The Hugh Jackman Show (aka The Oscars)

When Hugh Jackman, otherwise known as the ideal man, finished his dynamite standing-ovation-inducing opening number you had the feeling there was no where they could go but down.  But let’s not worry about that for now. What an opening!  Jackman, a legitimate triple threat, took the audience by storm using his exceptional talents to turn the traditional opening ditty recapping the nominated films into a showstopper.  So well conceived, from the glittery “cost cutting” cardboard sets to the interpretive dance representing the “The Reader” to his final triumphant declaration a top the ropes of a wrestling ring a la Mickey Rourke “I’m Wolerveriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!” it was the most entertaining Oscar moment in my recent memory.  Bravo sir.  I wonder if he just wanted to announce Best Picture and call it a night right there, I wouldn’t have mined.

I remember saying right after it was over, well it’s all down hill from here.  I felt little bad for being so pessimistic, but I was right.  The newfound excitement was immediately undone by the self-serious, self -congratulatory tone we’ve become accustomed to.  Most notably in the new format used to present acting honors.  Instead of having the previous winner present the award, five past winners came out and each individually introduced a nominee providing a brief bio and praise.  Not a bad idea, but many of the presenters seemed unprepared with nothing particularly insightful to say, and the odd image of five men or women regally posed in formation looked more like the induction of some freaky cult minus the black hooded robes.

When it came time for another production number, dedicated to the movie musical, Jackman was now accompanied by the one Beyonce and it sadly was not nearly as memorable.  With far too many references the overly ambitious piece was often incomprehensible.  Hmmmm, do you think that had anything do with Baz Lurhman being the director? (Rip alert)  Would people just get over this guy.   I loved, loved Moulin Rouge! (despite having an exclamation point in the title).  But what has he done since?  A bunch of Chanel commercials that were embarrassingly self-important, not mention expensive, it cost like $40 million, (he also insists they be referred to as films, please), a Broadway show that by all accounts was atrocious, and “Australia,” a movie even I didn’t see this year because by all accounts it was so brutal (I have friend who walked out).  So why, oh why did they let him in the room when planning this years Oscars?  I picture him tip-toeing around in Groucho Marx glasses.

The rest of the show was fine, boring, overlong, but fine, it just didn’t live up to the first 8 minutes.   In terms of the actual awards there were few surprises.  Probably the biggest, or the most high profile, was Sean Penn taking home best actor.  I’ve been saying all along how much I hoped he’d win because Mickey Rourke wasn’t that great in “The Wrestler.”  Of course the second they said Sean Penn I immediately felt bad for Mickey.  I am such a pushover.  That must be tough when everyone expects you to win and then you don’t.  Then it must really feel like you lost.  I mean, he had to sit there for 4 freaking hours thinking he was going to hear his name called.  I feel for ya Mickey.  At least he didn’t storm out like Eddie Murphy did in 2006.

Another surprise winner I was particularly happy about was “La Maison en petits cubes” picking up best animated short!  Yay!  Why am I the only one clapping?  The film was one of two surprise wins for Japanese films whose acceptance speeches ran headfirst into the language barrier.  The second, “Departures” for foreign film, was probably the biggest shocker of the night.  I don’t know anyone who wasn’t picking “Waltz With Bashir” or “The Class.”  I have a hard time believing “Departures” is better than those two but if it is, hats off.  Who knows, maybe it’s another “The Lives of Others.”  When that beat out heavily favored “Pan’s Labyrinth” back in ’06 people, including me, were aghast.  But upon actually seeing the film everyone loved it, and if not for the Oscar it never would’ve gotten an audience.  So I’ll give “Departures” the benefit of the doubt.  If it ever gets released.

I hope Hugh’s back next year.  The ratings were up (not hard to do since the previous year was the worst ever) and he managed to shake off, however briefly, some of the staleness that has taken hold of the ceremony.  It’ll be interesting to see if this bumps ticket sales for his summer tent-pole “Wolverine.”  I know I’m a little more excited.  Here’s a formulaic trailer with an intense choral soundtrack.  Also check out the opening number that I’ve built up so much there’s no way it can live up to the hype (I hate when people do that, “Slumdog Millionaire”).  Until next year…..

Review: Medicine For Melancholy

While reflecting on the hugely entertaining “Medicine For Melancholy” I realized I felt guilty for liking it.   As a white New Yorker who is actively aiding the gentrification of Brooklyn I can’t help but feel somewhat culpable after watching Barry Jenkins’ grossly personal film about two black San Franciscans waxing on the evils of gentrification, class and race.  And saying I felt a connection to it feels like another case of the phenomenon that some people think got our latest president elected.  Did I mention this is a romantic comedy?

The premise, on paper, is simple enough.  The film chronicles 24 hours post one night stand between two twenty-somethings.  Mr. Jenkins wastes no time with exposition and begins right in the middle of things as Micha (Wyatt Cenac of Daily Show fame) and Joanne (Tracey Heggins) stumble through the uncomfortable morning-aftermath of their dizzy encounter.   We aren’t given many clues as to what happened the night before, just that they didn’t exchange names.  Joanne, a distant, enigmatic beauty, is  at first eager to forget the incident (she even gives a fake name) but, Micha’s offbeat charm, which won me over immediately, is able to penetrate Joanne’s steely demeanor and the two become companions for the day.

Demonstrating chemistry to die for it’s not hard to fall in love with Joanne and Micha.  Wyatt Cenac, a successful stand up comedian, is another strong case for comedians being good dramatic actors (not necessarily vice versa).  Though not a comedic script, Cenac finds multiple opportunities to inject his easygoing brand of humor, even managing to slip in his brilliant Bill Cosby impression, “every black guy’s got one” he explains.  With frequent but uncontrived humor, they achieve some very rare moments where we’re laughing right along with the characters, as if part of the conversation.  The scripted comedic banter thing, a la “Sex and the City”, has always been one of my pet peeves, often ringing false.  But “Medicine for Melancholy” gets it just right and the spontaneous interactions exude the exhilaration of brand new love.  We’re discovering these characters, as they bike, stroll, chat, argue and laugh their way through San Francisco, at the same time they discover each other.

For those who doesn’t know the city (guilty as charged), we’re discovering San Francisco as well.  Dedicated to an accurate portrait, Jenkins avoids the cinematic staples we’re used to.  No Golden Bridge in a San Fransisco movie, crazy (I really appreciate this as New Yorker, it always bugs me in movies when Washington Square Park and the Flatiron Building end up on the same block).  But beyond serving as a setting, when conversations drift to the very real housing problems facing San Fransisco, the city evolves into a full fledged third character, turning the film, in the directors words, “into a love triangle.”

While debating these issues, as they do throughout, Micha constantly traces it all back to race, a topic he just can’t seem to stay away from.  It’s not without cause, only 6.3% of the city is black and rising housing costs forcing relocation is somewhat of a trend.  But for Micha it’s more than just a social matter.  For him, it seems, everything is boiled everything down to black or white.  As he explains, if using one word to describing himself he’d say he’s black before he’s a man.  This grates against Joanne’s point of view who doesn’t acknowledge labels.   To her, he’s Micha before anything else.

As these disputes progress it begins to sound like two opposing soapboxes.  Often I find a detectable agenda can bog down a narrative, for example “Crash” (I swear that wasn’t planned but it’s a perfect example).  But Jenkins’ film rarely strays into that territory.  Only once, when the camera drifts away from our protagonists to observe a small local organization does it feel a little contrived.  While the content is informative and engaging, I think Jenkins could’ve gotten what he wanted without it having to be directly explained.  Fortunately, the infectiously watchable Tracey Heggins and Wyatt Cenac are more than just vessels carrying a message and they keep the storytelling from becoming too didactic.

The look is so desaturated it’s only a tick or two above black and white, like the color has been physically drained out, giving things an appropriate mood that’s both beautiful and sad.  The film is scored with an eclectic mix of what my limited music knowledge can only describe as “indie”, giving it a very personal feel.  I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re listening to a playlist on Mr. Jenkins ipod.  In one particularly lovely sequence where the music strikingly enhances the action, Micha and Joanne playfully ride a Merry-go-round.  The scene plays out over the entire song suspending the fleeting, wonderful moment between the two whirling among the brightly painted equine.  When the song ends and the ride creaks to halt, giving way to familiarly abrasive organ music, the air is filled faint regret, like someone turned on the lights signalling that the party’s over.

At once funny, romantic, political and thought-provoking, “Medicine For Melancholy” is littered with moments that are simultaneously comic and disturbing.  Early on when Micha refuses Joanne suggestion they go to MOMA because, “Black people don’t go to MOMA.”  She responds, “What do two black people do on a Sunday afternoon?”  He counters,”Go to church, what to two black people not do on a Sunday afternoon?  Go to MOMA.”  When you think about the reality of that statement, it’s not funny, but I still laughed, because it was.  That’s what makes this film so confusing.  It it there to be enjoyed or contemplated?  I think, finally, it’s best not to worry and just tip my hat to Mr. Jenkins, any film that makes me feel bad for living in my apartment is well worth the price of admission.  Here’s hoping Jenkins is able to cut as close to the bone in future work.  And that at least a few of his contemporaries follow the lead.

Oscar Time!

Whoa, so the Oscars sure came up fast.  Is it just me or are people kinda “meh” about the them this year?  I feel like I haven’t had (or randomly engaged in uninvited) nearly as many conversations regarding them as in past years.  I do know that in terms of box office the traditional bump films get as a result of being nominated has been largely nonexistent.  The only film that seems to to have benefited is “The Reader,” which has doubled it’s take since being nominated.  But at 19 million in today’s prices maybe, what, 30 people have gone to see it?

Still the Oscars are the Oscars and for all my berating I still love them.  Since 2005’s loss of innocence (damn you “Crash”!) I maybe haven’t held them in as high a regard, but I still acknowledge them, for better or for worse, as an great annual celebration of films.  And how is a guy blogging about movies not going to pay attention to that.

So how about some predictions?  As I said it’s pretty boring this year, I think many of the categories are easy to pick.  I’ll run through the major ones.

Best Picture – Slumdog Millionaire

If Benjamin Button were a little better received it would win by default but since the entire world seems to have caught Slumdog fever I think it’s pretty much a lock.  I would love to see “Milk” pull out an upset but it doesn’t seem to have any momentum going.  It’s kinda sad, you’d think “Brokeback Mountain’s” breakthrough in ’05 would’ve been the perfect setup for a film like “Milk” not to mention it coming in on the coattails of Obama’s air of hope and change, which producers never could have anticipated.  Maybe if “Crash” hadn’t beat out Brokeback in ’05 for Best Picture things would be different.  Ok, I’ll stop hating on Crash now.  Ummmmm, no I won’t.  I hate you Crash.

Best Actor – Mickey Rourke, The Wrestler

It just seems unanimous.  This one frustrates me a little because I think he’s great in this, really great.  But I don’t think he’s as incredible as everyone is making him out to be.  So even though I dug his performance I’m always on the dissenting side of conversations.  In the end, he’s playing a character that is dealing with some things that must be very close to Mr. Rourke’s experiences.  And while there’s nothing wrong with that, for my money, Sean Penn in “Milk” had to create that person from scratch within himself.  And you can bet that, for Penn, the affable persona of Harvey Milk took some digging.

Best Actress – Kate Winslet, The Reader

It’s not a great film but Kate Winslet is easily one of the two best actresses named Kate on the planet (and the best to spell it with a K).  She’s been nominated 5 times before and while there are no travesties in the people who won the phrase: Helen Hunt and Halle Berry beat out Kate Winslet for an Oscar just doesn’t sound right.  Personally I’d love to see Melissa Leo win for her fantastic work in “Frozen River” but I’d be bummed if Kate was ousted a 6th time.

Best Supporting Actor – Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight

How bad do you feel for everyone else in this category?  Do you think they’re more worried that they might actually win than anything else?  What would someone like Michael Shannon say?  Who’s Michael Shannon?  Exactly.  In all seriousness, Heath does deserve to win for his unforgettable work as the Joker.  As I’ve said before, coming out of “The Dark Knight” my overriding feeling was sadness that we wouldn’t get another 40 years of his performances.

Best Supporting Actress – Penelope Cruz, Vicky Christina Barcelona

She’s as much a lock as anyone.  The film has some large flaws (one of them is named Scarlett Johansson) but Cruz is such a firecracker in her role as a passionate/insane artist you forget about everything else when she’s onscreen and when she’s offscreen you’re just thinking about when she’ll be back.  I really couldn’t see anyone breaking through here.  Cheers Penelope.

Best Director – Danny Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz.  Are there actually people evaluating direction in the Academy?  It’s feels like when deciding the Directing nominees they just ctrl+c the Best Picture noms and paste them in the Directing category.  This year all 5 nominated Directors had their films nominated for Best Picture as well.  In the last 5 years only 3 directors have been nominated whose film wasn’t.  Boring.  Don’t get me wrong, Danny Boyle’s great and I’ll be happy to see him win.  This category just seems uninspired.

Best Original Screenplay -Wall E

This one’s tough.  I’m going with “Wall E” because there’s been some backlash stemming from it’s Best Picutre snub.  I think this’ll be offered up as a consolation.  However, the same thing could happen for “Milk” since it probably won’t win anything else.  To which I offer “The Simspons” reference: boo-urns.  Or “Happy-go-Lucky,” another well received but under represented film.  Basically I have no idea so I’m just listing the nominees to take up space so I can move on.  It could be “In Bruges” or “Frozen River” you never know!

Best Adapted Screenplay – Slumdog Millionaire

I say a clean sweep.  But Benjamin Button certainly has a shot.  As I mentioned above the screenplay categories are often reserved as consolations for films that don’t take home the big prize.  “Juno,” “Sideways,” “Lost in Translation,” “Little Miss Sunshine,” “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”  You know looking at this list, these are all films of the same ilk, got great reviews, did great business, loved by all but ultimately deemed not “important” enough for Best Picture.  Coincidence?  The Oscars: exposed.

Odd and Ends

“Wall E” is a lock for animated film (despite “Kung Fu Panda” randomly winning “The Annie” award a couple weeks ago).  The spectacular “Man on Wire” should pick up best doc.  I think Pixar’s “Presto” will win animated short but I’d like to see Japan’s wonderful “Maison en Petits Cubes” pull out an upset in the highly anticipated category.  In foreign film I’ve only seen 2 and I’m torn.  Both “The Class” (please read my novel, I mean, review I posted couple weeks ago) and “Waltz With Bashir” are decidedly great films.  I think Bashir has a little more buzz surrounding it so I’ll make that my pick, but for sure, check them both out.

Who’s excited for Sunday!  I’ll post my reactions to the winners, losers, all the glitz and glam, and that delicious Hugh Jackman sometime next week.

Brief, But Brilliant

I’ve been meaning to catch the Oscar nominated shorts since IFC started screening them in back 2005 and I finally got around to it this past Thursday.  They’re split into two presentations, live-action and animated.  I went with the animated out of pure convenience.  The program consisted of the 5 nominated shorts and 5 acclaimed shorts, I’m assuming the latter 5 are to bump up the running time to get you your moneys worth.

Short films are a grossly under appreciated medium.  I think the internet may be the tool to remedy that but for now they toil mainly in film festival purgatory, largely unavailable to the general public.  On the rare occasion that I happen to check some out I’m constantly amazed at the clout a good short can have.  2006’s “Paris, je t’aime,” a collection of shorts from various directors centered on the iconic city, was one of the more memorable films I’ve seen in the last few years, even though I saw it on a plane.  Alexander Payne’s (director of “Election”, “About Schmidt” and “Sideways”) final piece “14th arrondissement” is particularly wonderful.

Still, my short film viewing leaves much to be desired and my most recent encoutner with them has confirmed that.  My appreciation for the medium was renewed once again by several of the great shorts featured in this program.  And some of them are online.

John and Karen

I’ve actually seen this before, it was randomly featured in front of “Encounters at the End of the World” (another great film).  John and Karen wasn’t nominated for an Oscar (add it to the long list of snubs) but it is an absolute delight.   At only 3 minutes, it’s the shortest masterpiece I’ve ever seen.  Any plot explanation will dull the brilliance, just go and see your yourselves.

Oktapodi

Another mini-gem that comes in a minute shorter than John and Karen.  It’s basically a CGI chase sequence featuring some octopi and it’s quite a ride.  Perhaps more impressive is how well it compares to the Pixar juggernaut, as it’s operating in territory usually dominated by them.  Fast and fun, check it.

La Maison En Petits Cubes

At 12 minutes this had a bigger emotional impact on me than most films.  I’m not much of a crier, I could count on one hand the films that made the theatre a little dusty in 2008, but for some reason this one got to me.  With a beautiful animation style reminiscent of the old Winnie the Pooh drawings and a mystifying concept “Cubes” was quite a revelation for me.  Unfortunately the link is to a 30 second clip that will only whet your appetite.  But keep it in mind.  The shorts should be released on DVD soon.  Queue it up.

Those were my favorite 3 but the whole program was definitely time and money well spent.  I’m hoping catch up with the live action and report on those soon.  But I really encourage everyone to go out and see this stuff.   I guarantee it will be a unqiue and satisfying trip to the cinema.  Plus you’ll have a real leg up in your Oscar pool.

The Original Blockbuster

I happened to catch the second half of “Jaws” on TV the other day.  I’ve seen it probably about 5-7 times, but not in the last year. I came in at the scene where they’re cutting the shark in half at Brody’s house.  Oh cool, I’ll watch until they find the license plate.  But before I could even think about turning to something else, Richard Dreyfuss was underwater at night, examining a hole in the hull of an abandoned boat.  Well, it’s not like I wasn’t going to watch the dead guy’s head pop out.  And from then on I was screwed.  “You are going to ignore this particular problem until it swims up and bites you in the ass!”. “We’re going to need a bigger boat.” The scar battle, USS Indianapolis, shark cage, smile you son of a…boom!  How good is that movie?  I mean seriously.  Has to be one of the most watchable movies ever.

While reveling in it’s mastery I was reminded of the impact “Jaws” made on the film industry when it was released and it rekindled some thoughts I have on the subject.  Arriving in 1975, the New Hollywood movement in full swing film and American film was at an impressionable juncture.  Finally liberating itself from the shadow cast by the production code and the Ed Sullivan show, like the French and Italians before them, Americans now too had their new cinema.  Films like “Bonnie and Clyde,” “Easy Rider,” “The Graduate” and “Midnight Cowboy” closed out the sixties, giving way to the 70s and the emergence of Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, Robert Altman, and yes George Lucas with great films like the “Godfather,”  “Mean Streets,” “MASH” and Lucas’ “American Graffiti” (so ironic) to name just a few.  This crusade not only drastically changed the way films were made but how they were seen.  With more attention paid to the artistic aspects of filmmaking a new generation found themselves engaged in cinema with a passion not seen since the golden age of the 1940s.  Smaller, independent production companies were churning out groundbreaking films and the public was eating them right up.

So along comes Jaws, a troubled production, due largely to a malfunctioning Shark, helmed by a largely unknown Director, the obscenly young Steven Spielberg.  It’s release on June 20th was remarkable in itself.  Up to this point film distribution was done on a much smaller scale compared to today’s standards.  Beginning with a handful of theatre in major cities a film would gradually accumulate screens as word of mouth spread.  Here, MCA executive Sidney Sheinberg gambled by opening Jaws on 409 theatres across the country making it the first wide release in film history.  This was coupled with a nation wide marketing campaign that was aimed at raising awareness and elevating the release to something of an event.  Suffice it to say, Sheinberg’s strategy paid off and the blockbuster was born.  “Jaws” was the first film to surpass $100 blowing by “The Exorcist” to become the highest grossing film of all time.   “Jaws” was a bona fide phenomenon and the film industry has never looked back.  Event films are now the cornerstone of big studio business.  This past summer “The Dark Knight” opened in 4,366 theatres and grossed $100 in two days.

There are some people, myself included, who view this blockbuster mindset as an exercise in cinematic mediocrity.  The films, to attract the biggest audience, are as broad as possible and their chief goal is a huge opening weekend.   The profits of a film are dived between the studio and the theatre.  The first two weeks of a films run are the weeks the studio gets it’s biggest piece of the pie, as time goes on the theatre takes an increasingly larger ratio.  So basically, studios pump up the marketing, get everyone to turn out on opening weekend, the movie stinks, but they’ve already made their money so who cares?  I acknowledge this opinion is littered with exceptions but I still think it’s a fair assumption.

Now, there are also some people (looking for someone to blame perhaps) that accuse “Jaws” of being the catalyst of this trend.   And contend that it’s like-minded kin, “Star Wars,” “Indiana Jones,” “Jurassic Park,” have permanently cemented reliance on the big budget drivel we’re exposed to every summer.  “These films have obliterated the dignity of American film and spawned the demise of the New Hollywood!”  Author Peter Biskind actually wrote best selling book called “Easy Riders and Raging Bulls” that showcases this philosophy.  Well to Mr. Biskind and all the other haters out there I say, *fart noise*.

You know what, if all blockbusters were half as good as “Jaws” we’d still be in a new wave, but by now it wouldn’t be new.  We’d just be in a wave.  Or maybe it wouldn’t even be a wave, it would just be the way movies are.  Good.  If a movie costs a lot of money or makes a lot a money that doesn’t make it bad.  What makes a movie bad is a studio exec looking to cash with a string of poor imitations.  Case in point, look at the epic craze that took over after “Lord of the Rings” took the world by storm.  You wouldn’t blame Peter Jackson for “Troy”, “Alexander” and The “Golden Compass” would you? (Although I wouldn’t mind a personal apology from Brad Pitt).

Film represents different things to different people. There are those who see it as pure entertainment and others a sophisticated art form.  Except for the extreme members of each party (I’m speaking to the fans of the “[insert genre] Movie” franchise and a large percentage of Film Forum’s audience), I think it’s healthy to subscribe to both.  Growing up a movie obsessed kid I watched “Superman” and “Ghostbusters” practically on repeat, and now I myself am a frequenter of Film Forum.  I just think a good movie is a good movie.  It can cost $5,000 or $250,000,000.   To quote a line from “Ratatouille” (shut up I love that movie) “Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.”  So lay off Spielberg (unless it’s for “Indiana Jones 4”).  And if you didn’t have problem with him to begin with, watch “Jaws” again.  Just remember, don’t hate the player, hate the game.

Review: The Class

After watching the trailer for “The Class” you may think you’ve already seen it.  Dedicated teacher writes his name on chalkboard, unruly students chide him for it, dedicated teacher cleverly retorts, unruly students laugh, dedicated teacher gains their respect.  Eventually, dedicated teacher will inspire unruly students, despite being minorities and coming from dysfunctional households, to strive for a future beyond gangs and drugs and, just to round things out, dedicated teacher will learn something about himself along the way.  Sound familiar?

This formula has been beaten to death, perhaps most memorably by Michelle Pfeiffer in the oh so 90s “Dangerous Minds” (the tagline was:  She Broke The Rules… And Changed Their Lives.  Yikes.)  Also by the desk-standing triumph of Robin “O Captain my Captain” Williams in the sadly very dated “Dead Poets Society.”  And most recently by Hilary “I either give Oscar winning performances or make terrible movies” Swank in “Freedom Writers” (which, to be fair, I have not seen, and never will).  So what could possibly be so great about this one that it deserves the Palme d’Or it won at Cannes last April?  Because it’s in french?  Sorry, you can put lipstick on a VP candidate, but it’s still going to be a pig (zing!).  Ok, I’ll calm down.  Obviously I had a lot of, perhaps unfair, reservations going into this film.  I didn’t necessarily think it would be bad mind you, but I was skeptical it could live up to it’s unanimously rapturous acclaim.  I expected a solid, well-made, superior version of it’s like-minded predecessors that didn’t cover any new territory.

How wrong I was.

Writer/director Laurent Cantet and writer/lead actor François Bégaudeau have (hyperbole alert) made the most insightful, thought-provoking film about education I have ever seen.  Before discussing, may I just say the marketing team should be ashamed of themselves.  If it hadn’t won the Palme d’Or I would have totally overlooked it, and that would have been a shame.  They are sending the wrong message, this is no story about a superhuman teacher.

François Marin, a geekier, fenchier version of Daniel Craig, played by François Bégaudeau (who wrote the autobiographical novel on which the film is derived and, based on his excellent performance, has no inhibitions playing a character so close to himself) quietly sits with his coffee.  He is framed almost from behind and his mood is difficult to read.  The quiet pensive moment could one of reflection, frustration, relaxation.  It’s as if Cantent is saying, look, this guys got a lot going on but we’re not going to tell you what.  It is the first, last and only scene to take place outside the walls of the school (appropriately, the direct translation of the french title “Entre Les Murs” is “Between the Walls”).

It’s the first day of classes at this unnamed inner-Parisian Junior High School.  At a politely uncomfortable pre-year meeting we are introduced to the faculty, a group that has their own strange a classroom dynamic.   Each member states their subject and tenure (François’ teaches French and is in his 4th year), the only personal information about them we will learn, before heading to class.

François’ has no impact on the cacophony of overlapping conversations as he enters the room and the task of getting the class silent is met with resistance, as are all tasks.  From simple requests, “why do we have to write down our names if you already know them?” to the value of the curriculum, “nobody uses the subjunctive when they talk in everyday life,” the students turn their teacher into a modern day Sisyphus.  To combat this opposition, François’ takes an informal approach.  Not unlike his cinematic predecessors he attempts to engage the students with a more conversational than didactic style in hopes of gaining their trust and forming a connection.  But whereas, say, Michelle Pfeiffer’s students eat it right up, François’ students often use it against him.  Though he may be talked to like a peer he is rarely treated like one.  And while the buddy tactic has its merits, the students laugh at as his jokes and genuinely seem to like him, it blurs the authoritative line into a thin gray one.

Any and all discipline is very difficult.  In one incident, Rachel (one of the more intriguing, prominently featured students), repeatedly refuses to read aloud in class.  When François keeps her after and demands an apology, rejecting any he deems untruthful, Rachel is unthreatened, more concerned with the infringement on her afternoon plans.  After he finally accepts her apology as genuine, Rachel quickly rescinds it as she walks out the door.  This type of infuriating confrontation is one in an unending chain that equate François’ job to pushing full force up against a brick wall.  Clearly a dedicated teacher, what motivates his stiff resolve remains a confounding mystery.

Taking place over the course of one full school year, we gradually become acquainted with the individual students and the specific challenge each poses.  The chosen method to attack these challenges, however, is in dispute.  The benefit of punishment and praise is debated throughout the film in faculty meetings where staff members support contradicting tactics.  Watching them tackle these delicate issues doesn’t instill any envy for them.  After pondering my own opinions on the subjects discussed I was forced to reconsidered the better part of my own time spent in a classroom.

In the films last third, where it most resembles a traditional narrative, the challenges facing the administration become more complex.   Souleyman, at times a promising but frequently impertinent student, charges out of class, after François physically attempts to stop him, and inadvertently injures another student.  To complicate matters, before the incident François, in a moment of frustration, insulted two girls during a heated exchange.  The fallout tracks the decision of whether to expel Souleyman.  François’ involvement throws an additional wrench into the mix as he and his fellow staff members weigh the consequences expulsion will have on the boy’s future given his tenuous life at home, against the consequences of allowing him to remain in class.  Despite the outcome, ethically, there is no clear solution and that is the conclusion Cantet and Bégaudeau are after.  There is no right answer.

This inconclusive subject matter is perfectly married with the film’s unique look and feel.   Forgoing the conventional use of wideshots to establish a scene within a time and place, there are no inter-titles denoting the season or how much time has passed.  Cantet sets the camera up close on the actors faces, rarely any wider than a midshot, and keeps the action in the classroom.  This creates an unrelenting pace that flows from day to day leaving little space to breathe in between.  With no scenes cluing us in on François’ hopes and dreams or the details of Souleyman’s violent father, Cantet merely presents the events of the film without putting them in any sort of context.  This not only makes the 128 minute running time fly by, but by not commenting it forces the viewer to be objective.  Surprisingly by the films end, despite this arms length approach, the attachment that wasn’t being forced upon you has been deceptively instilled.  For a film seemingly so adverse to sentimentality, it yields some very moving ineractions, particularly in the final encounters.

At the center of this bold style are the, across the board, splendid performances from a group of non-actors playing versions of themselves (all the characters keep their real names).  The classroom scenes in particular have a striking feel of vibrant spontaneity (much of the film was improvised) where not a single moment rings false.  Credit Cantet for creating an environment that, with three cameras going at once, allowed these kids to perform at such high levels, to produce a multitude of fascinating moments.

But fascinating as it is, this vivid reality they’ve created doesn’t really generate a thesis, and it doesn’t intend to.   “The Class” is more of an open examination that only asks questions.  And while some of the questions may have been asked before.   Never, in my experience, have they been so clearly illustrated.  I think, particularly, teachers who have lived the reality this film depicts will appreciate that.  I was constantly reminded of a friend of mine, while watching this film, who at one time taught 10th grade English at a High School in the Bronx.  Furiously passionate about his job he would recount to me his frequent feelings of futility.   “I have a “Dangerous Minds” moment at least once a day,” he’d explain. “Someone will come up to me after class and say ‘Mista, you’re the only teacher I’ve ever had who really believes in me’.”  “And then the next day” he continued, “they’ll come in not having done their homework.”

Damn.  If only he could’ve gotten them to stand on their desks.

5 Oscar Movies That Rock

It’s a hassle to go to the movies.  It’s expensive, ($12.50 in NYC!) inconvenient, (in many cases the living room couch is a much better option) and annoying (you call that a whisper?) Side note: an advantage of movie-going in NYC is whenever someone talks they are met with the vocal equivalent of being drawn and quartered by a surly lot of senior citizens.

All of this can make catching up with all the Oscar films a daunting mountain to climb.  Especially if you wait until after the nominations to start watching.  While some people feel the need to catch up with all of the nominated films so they can avoid the mortifying conversation exit line “I haven’t seen it yet” (or am I the only one mortified in that situation?), others just want to see some good movies.  And as we all know, an nomination does not a good film make (Crash).  So the question is do you want to see every movie nominated for an Oscar (better queue up Kung Fu Panda!), or just the good ones?

If your answer is the latter here are 5 films, currently in the running for an Oscar, that really deserve to be.  Not to say that the Frost/Nixon’s out there aren’t enjoyable, but they are also very rent-able.

Milk Milk, Milk, Milk!  Gus Vant Sant’s film about Harvey Milk, the first gay elected official in US history is a biopic of sorts, dealing with the period of Harvey’s life leading up to his election and time in office.  There is no reason for not seeing this.  Right now it’s playing in a couple hundred theatres so there’s probably a screening somewhat nearby.  Especially if you don’t know this incredible story, “Milk” is required viewing.  Sean Penn is, and I don’t say this lightly because he usually rubs me the wrong way , fan-freaking-tastic as Harvey Milk.  There’s not a hint of the heavy handedness that I think plagues some of his other work (great Sean, you can emote, yay), Harvey Milk is portrayed as the joyful, charismatic, inspiring man that he was.   I never thought I’d say this, but in this movie, I just wanted to jump through the screen and give Sean Penn a big hug.

Rachael Getting Married Anne Hathaway is up for best actress and rightfully so.  Jonathan Demme (back from his obscure documentary sabbatical) crafts a perfectly pitched familial turf war.  With a not too jerky hand held camera it has an almost improvised feeling but it is anything but.  Screenwriter Jenny Lumet (daughter of Sidney) deftly develops her characters, even the minor ones, without drawing too much attention to them.  The group scenes when the narrative seems to disappear are where the film really shines.  By the end I felt like I was watching two dear friends getting married and I felt all the emotions that go along with that.  Anne Hathaway as the family time bomb is ruthless, Rosemarie Dewitt in the title role nails the very difficult-to-play overlooked sister and Bill Irwin as the doting father caught in the middle is, for lack of a more dynamic phrase, just great.  See it!

Waltz With Bashir– Up against some tough competition in the foreign film category, namely Palme d’Or winner “The Class” (look for my review in the coming days), this animated-doc/memoir by Ari Folman would have nothing to be ashamed of in defeat.  With a combination of cell, flash and digital animation, Mr. Folman explores the hazy memories (and nightmares) from his experiences as a young Israeli soldier in the first Lebanon war.  Flipping between talking (animated) heads and artful recreations we follow him as he pieces together his past.  This device is the perfect way to tell his story, removing the viewer with more surreal images that evoke rather provoke.  Only at the end does Mr. Folman drive the horror of the events home leaving us with the chilling reality of what haunts him.

Frozen River– I’ve championed this already, but it warrants repeating.  Courtney Hunt comes out of nowhere with her unclassifiable film about a mom having a really really bad week.  Melissa Leo as Ray Eddy gives a ferocious performance, from the films opening moments, a closeup, she gives you everything you need to know.  Taking place near a Mohawk reservation on New York’s border with Quebec, a series of unfortunate events leads to Ray ‘s befriending of a teenage Mohawk (a very good Misty Upham) and smuggling illegal immigrants across the border which is, you guessed it, a frozen river.  Set in a frigid version of John Ford’s America beautifully captured by Cinematographer Reed Morano, what starts out as an indie drama about single mom soon becomes into a taught thriller.  Great entertainment.

The Docs:

Encounters at the End of the World, Man on Wire, Trouble the Water

Even though we’ve seen an increase in the number of documentaries being released, thanks to Michael Moore’s demonstration of their box office potential, they remain among the most underrated films year in and year out.  The documentary category is so stacked this year and I’ve only seen three of the five, two of which were in my top 10.  I’ve already written about “Encounters,” Werner Herzog’s existential nature film about Antarctica, and “Man on Wire” (the front-runner), a heist thriller recounting the man who tightrope-walked between the twin towers.  Both fantastic.

“Trouble the Water,” a criminally under-seen film, is one I have not mentioned thus far.  A first hand account of hurricane Katrina, Kimberly Roberts and her husband Scott Roberts stayed through the storm capturing the waters rising around them with a video camera.  Upon seeing the footage, filmmakers Carl Deal and Tia Lessin followed them through the aftermath as they, like so many others, tried to put their lives back together.  In this age of political documentaries “Trouble the Water” side steps some of the usual conventions by resisting  pointing fingers and keeps the focus on Kimberly and Scott.  Kimberly, being an aspiring rapper, really makes the movie sing (literally and metaphorically).  She is a force of such raw energy and perseverance that this devastating story in the end is brimming with life.

There you go, only 20 days left!  Get to it!