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writ. and dir. Albert Lamorisse
feat. Pascal Lamorisse
The Red Balloon is a rare bit of magic, a short film without need for dialogue that illustrates the fantastic world of a child and his enchanted companion. The boy runs around Paris as though with his best playmate, the balloon alternately chasing, being chased, or joining him by his side. Lamorisse imbues the balloon with life and personality, making it playful, sneaky, coy and even brave. The playmates are inseparable, and their joy induces jealousy in the local young hooligans who can't stand to let them be. And tragedy befalls our dear balloon, but he will not be left to fall alone. The troops rally, and our boy is carried off like a hero in a breathtaking finale, the kind of the imagery that transforms movies into living dreams.
dir. Hou Hsiao-Hsien
writ. Hou Hsiao-Hsien & Francois Margolin
feat. Juliette Binoche, Simon Iteanu, Fang Song
It is a tribute to Binoche's charisma that this film holds the attention pleasantly enough for as long as it does. While intended as a tribute to the 1956 short film The Red Balloon by Albert Lamorisse, one can't help but wonder if Hsiao-Hsien paid much attention to that piece, either for its magic or narrative arc. Other than the occasional appearance by the mysterious red balloon, little comparison may be made. While Binoche's character's involvement with puppet theater may be intended to connect her more closely to her son's fascination with the balloon and his supposed boyish dreams, there is little evidence of this. Instead, we follow these characters through their daily lives, waiting for any of the suggested drama to unfold, for anything to actually happen. Perhaps the balloon of this picture is meant to represent the floating nature of life, how nothing truly matters, just as this film doesn't matter.
dir. Jia Zhang-Ke
writ. Zhang Ke Jia, Na Guan, Jiamin Sun
feat. Tao Zhao, Zhou Lan, Sanming Han, Lizhen Ma, Hongwei Wang
Still Life examines the lives of two different protagonists as they seek out lost loved ones along the Yangtse River. In every direction buildings are being destroyed, burying even more of the past than the Three Gorges dam project has already submerged underwater. Clearly, Zhang-Ke has this close in mind as he observes the quiet lives of his characters who seem to have awoken to recognize their alienation and wish to reconnect.
While Zhang-Ke's patient filming style and somber tone achieve a similar feeling to the work of Tsai Ming Liang, his disparate stories and occasional flights of fancy (most notably, a surprise alien spaceship) keep him from rounding the bend to arrive at anything but an assembly of ideas and images, without the subtle, yet notable turns that Ming Liang understands are required to puncuate those ideas, to tie the package together. The viewer is left with more than just a beautiful sense of longing, but also an emptiness, the movie lacking a greater substance.
dir. & writ. Albert Brooks
feat. Albert Brooks, Meryl Streep, Rip Torn
The concept behind Defending Your Life, proving your life's worth by trial held in a (naturally) funny purgatory with the hope of moving forward to a higher, more enlightened state instead of returning to our world to try again, appears to be a good vehicle for cleverly humorous Brooksian (yeah, that's right) musings on man's dreams, doubts and foibles. And the story moves along amiably enough as yuppy Miller (Brooks), self-conscious and full of angst, crashes his brand new BMW, instantly killing himself, and is quickly transported to Judgement City, a somewhat boring theme park with trams and places like the Past Lives Pavilion where everyone can eat all they want and never gain a pound.
Miller meets Bob Diamond (Torn), his defender, meant to argue his case for enlightenment. Torn brings great life to the quirky Diamond, and does his best to support Miller in the trial that follows, as amusing and often embarrassing moments from Miller's past clearly illustrate a man without backbone or nobility. Unfortunately, this routine distances the audience from Miller, and each return to the room where the prosecutor and judges preside brings with it increasing boredom, calling attention to this strict and limited storytelling device.
Still, Julia (Streep) infuses the story with some life, clearly a noble soul who has no worries in purgatory, having adopted children and saved them from a burning building. Her lighthearted attitude contrasts effectively with Miller's awkward, wary manner, and gives the story a much needed lift in spirit. She is also a believable source of inspiration for Miller, surely enough to kick him forward into bolder action, even if he's a bit slow in in catching up for the predictable conclusion.
dir. & writ. Carlos Reygadas
feat. Cornelio Wall, Maria Pankratz, Miriam Toews
Reygadas' tale of adultery in a Mexican Mennonite community seems to seek a new film language, perhaps one to suit the mix of German and Spanish spoken by the people of the film. From the endless opening shot of a starry night sky tilting down to show dawn breaking over the fields to children bathing in a pond to the sweat on the brow of Jonah and Esther, his mistress, after sex, there is an otherworldly quality to the cinematography, as well as a rich tactile quality reminiscent of the work of Sergei Urusevsky (I Am Cuba, The Cranes Are Flying).
This world, while familiar in its farmers and fields, offers up a slice of somewhere else, a spiritual detour. When Jonah asks for the advice of his father over what to do about his mistress, the expected initial reply of being true to his wife is deflected by his insistence that he has found the better woman for him, hinting at a religious right, or divine duty, to find and pursue this chosen mate. This conflict appears to be at the heart of Jonah's distress, plaguing him as he waffles between pleasant moments with his children and subtly more inspired stolen moments with Esther.
Marianne, Jonah's wife, suffers through in obedient silence, fully aware of the situation, awaiting Jonah's action on it. When she finally speaks up, recalling a happier time in their relationship, the sudden minimalist display of anger and resentment equates to a roar from the demure, devoted woman.
What follows is a confusing foray into symbolic redemption, a stretch for a film that doesn't seem to have earned the magic that it wishes to dole out. While there is an undeniable emotional power to Esther's visit to Marianne and her subsequent transformation, it is unclear to whom this gift is being granted and why.
dir. Darren Aronofsky
writ. Peter D. Siegel
feat. Mickey Rourke, Marisa Tomei, Evan Rachel Wood
More than just the perfect combination of player and part that has been much raved about for the The Wrestler, is the timing of the release of this film about a man at the end of his rope. The formula isn't new but the delivery is so precisely on target, the terrain so familiar, and the pain so physical and real that it cooks down to something irresistible.
Randy's energy and resilience carry the picture, particularly his resistance to self-pity, never more evident than during his first day on the job at the deli counter. We know what to expect, having seen this before, primed to watch our hero suffer insults from disrespectful customers, reducing him to a blue collar prisoner or, more likely, provoking him to violence. But not this time. Instead, Randy charms the customers, cheerily serving them as he makes a few bucks to keep his life on track.
It is this kind of playful reality that breathes life into an otherwise typical tale. Randy's games of Nintendo with neighboring kids and jokes about 80s metal with stripper, Cassidy (Tomei) charm us just like those deli patrons, warming us up to the brutality of his wrestling life and earning our sympathy, not pity, for his difficult life.
And while Cassidy's believably rough life never quite mirrors Randy's as the filmmakers seem to hope for, and Randy's daughter, Stephanie (Wood), isn't convincing as either a family member or a fully functioning human, Randy brings enough life (and pain) to soothe over these faults, emerging victorious.
dir. Stephen Daldry
writ. David Hare from book by Bernhard Schlink
feat. Ralph Fiennes, Kate Winslet, David Kross
Grow up, Mr. Berg. I'm sorry your first sexual experience scarred you so deeply, that you never recovered from your much older lover's sudden disappearance. And how harrowing it must have been to find out that she was a heartless Nazi guard. But wait, she was also illiterate. How woefully tragic. If only she was better educated, perhaps she wouldn't have murdered her prisoners.
But you seem to have it under control. Sure, send her books on tape to fill the void that has become your life. Yes, pretend that it's the road to recovery, that it will help you mend the relationship with your largely ignored and absent daughter. Why not. Something has to happen in your boring story, might as well fake some kind of unwarranted progress.
And while on the topic of things not earned, let's toss awards at a one-note performance devoid of dynamism or purpose. Why not. Hell, it is vaguely Holocaust related and she does the old and ugly makeup routine so challenging for attractive actresses.
Grow the fuck up America.
