W.
directed by Oliver Stone
written by Stanley Weiser
starring Josh Brolin, Ellen Burstyn, James Cromwell, Elizabeth Banks, Jeffrey Wright, Richard Dreyfuss, Thandie Newton, Scott Glenn, Dennis Boutsikaris, Rob Corddry, Noah Wyle
Ah, to win a father’s love. What’s a man gotta do? Apparently according to this film winning the presidency and becoming arguably the most powerful man in the world is not quite enough in the son’s eyes. This film unfurls the flag and dramatizes various events in W’s life that made him into the man he is today.
Early on W is struggling to find himself. He’s a hard-drinking, driftless thorn in daddy’s side. He’s nothing like his brother Jeb who George Sr (Cromwell). sees great potential. In his other son he sees nothing but a drunken bum who just can’t seem to get things sorted out. W drinks constantly, can’t hold a job and routinely pushes his father’s buttons. The Bush name is at stake and W. seems to be doing everything to tarnish it. He gets into Harvard Business School despite his mediocre grades at Yale which Sr. takes credit for because he claims to have pulled some strings. Circumstances are dire, but after all he still remains a Bush and that name has real pull in Texas.
With daddy a congressman and brother Jeb excelling at everything he does, poor Georgie finds himself at a crossroads. He must take charge and make something of himself after as he’s threatening to never escape his father’s impressive shadow. The film never goes into detail as to just how W pulled this off but somehow he manages to master his demons and set to work. He decides to run for Congress but is soundly defeated by the Democratic incumbent. In the process he meets a lovely lass named Laura (Banks) and things begin to settle.
Far from canonizing Bush, this film reveals a man torn by doubt who struggles even as president to put things right. This Bush is unsure in office and relies on his staff to make any important decisions. Above reproach, however, is the man’s sincerity which comes off in every scene. This is never questioned as Stone insists on presenting a character who truly believes what he says and says what he means. In a sense Bush comes across as a bit simpler minded than he’s champions would have us believe. He isn’t forceful, aggressive, or particularly fast on his feet. W is portrayed as a man who appears at times to be out of his depths and the film does nothing to dispel the notion that this is indeed factual.
The real key to this film is in how Stone chooses to present W’s cabinet. Each of them are vital characters who aid and abet in the invasion of Iraq. Of these General Colin Powell (Wright) is the most fascinating as he alone challenges the efficacy of the invasion and clearly seems troubled about the ramifications of such an action. His eyes are haunted and it becomes clear that Stone holds him up as an example of rationality that is nevertheless thwarted by the totality of the decision and his lack of support in the cabinet. It remains a heartbreaking sight to see as we do on television Powell addressing the U.N. and capitulating for the sake of the status quo. The real firebrand of the film comes in the form of Vice President Dick Cheney (Dreyfuss). He’s on the other end of the spectrum from Powell and in a most disturbing scene he shows a series of maps that demonstrate where all the world’s oil comes from and just who the United States has to invade to maintain their position in this industry. It’s sobering and depressing and one of the truly terrifying moments in the film. He also foresees that the war will perhaps never end suggesting a callous rationale for sending yet more troops into harm’s way. The end of the film clearly presents Stone’s feelings on the matter as well as his insistence that Bush does not deserve any glory for the state of his presidency. It’s subtly handled and pictorially stimulating but the end result is a direct question as to just how much blame W deserves for the present state of things.
There is a decidedly melancholy tone to much of this film. Iraq threatens the fine balance between the ascendancy of the man and the harsh, bitter reality which he was faced with post 9/11. The severity of the crisis in the aftermath is played as an understated reminder at just what W was facing as president of this nation at that time. There isn’t a tremendous amount of joy to be found here as the film plays down W’s triumphs and never really gives him an opportunity to celebrate his victories. We see him almost resigned to his post as if he never really wanted to become president and considers it mainly to be a burden that has been thrust upon him.
Thandie Newton plays Condoleezza Rice as if she is about to burst into tears at any time. It is her face that reminds the viewer of the sober message this film is intent on selling. Newton also does something extraordinarily strange with half her face so that it appears as if Rice is slightly paralyzed. Her vocal intonations give her the air of an upper crust society woman from the late nineteenth century.
This is not necessarily George W. Bush unmasked but it does provide a framework that allows the viewer to engage the material in further inquiry. Much of his behavior is public record and perhaps there is a bit of poetic license here and there but the nuts and bolts of W’s life are well cemented here.
The performances in this film are all stellar and add to the legitimacy of the work. Jeffrey Wright is particularly impressive in conveying Colin Powell’s tortured soul over the decision to attack Iraq. Wright projects an intense calm that belies the sadness creeping into his character’s eyes. He presents Powell as a conflicted man who is put into a terrible position and must act contrary to his conscience. Josh Brolin creates a perception of Bush rather than an accurate portrayal. He has the affectations down and gives his character a presence that is less than imposing. He carries forth W’s initial doubts and shortcomings straight through to the White House. Elizabeth Banks is not particularly present in this film. Her Laura is mostly on the sides, out of the way, and doesn’t develop her own personality in this film. Richard Dreyfuss is scary as Dick Cheney. There is something rat like in his demeanor as he calmly lays out the plans for war. Thandie Newton as mentioned creates a peculiar impression of her character that nevertheless seems to capture something vital about her. James Cromwell is formidable as the bee in W’s bonnet. He’s pressing and a bit irritating as a man who has difficulty expressing his emotions to his son.
Overall, this is a passable version of the W mythos. It is filled with great performances and creates a colorful version of the story as it stands. Some will pull it apart for accuracy sake but they will miss the pleasure of discovering the man as a human being with very real flaws that nevertheless have not hindered his progress. Stone is evenhanded for the most part although his final message suggests that he is highly critical of many of the decisions that George Bush has made in the White House. Ultimately, this is a fairly entertaining telling of the life of a man who is none too liked around the world these days. It’s something of a daring move to create a portrait at such a time of a man who is so universally loathed. The film will do nothing to cause detractors to change their minds about the man. If anything they might come away with their most negative impressions more readily confirmed.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Film Review--Live and Let Die
Live and Let Live
directed by Guy Hamilton
written by Tom Mankiewicz
starring Roger Moore, Yaphet Kotto, Jane Seymour, Julius Harris, Geoffrey Holder, David Hedison, Gloria Hendry, Bernard Lee, Lois Maxwell
Voodoo charms, tarot, and heinous plots inform this thrilling addition to the Bond Cannon. Roger Moore takes the helm and proceeds to maintain Bond’s affable charm and fierce hold over the tender bits of every woman he meets.
In this installment three agents mysteriously die at the hands of assassins in New York, New Orleans and a small Caribbean island called San Monique. Bond goes on an epic voodoo excursion to the island via New York. He discovers a colorful, stimulating world filled with magical incantations, succulent voodoo magic and the exquisite pull of the Tarot as he attempts to get to the bottom of the mystery. He is called to the island where the tyrannical Dr. Kananga (Kotto) holds sway and is greeted with a fabulous display of local tribal ceremony. Along the way he meets and lusts after the luscious young Solitaire (Seymour), the virgin Tarot mistress who reads the future and present for the diabolical Dr. Kananga. She is to remain pure for her readings to have any effect and it’s immediately clear that Bond will pop that cherry for his own pleasure and edification.
The voodoo in this film certainly appears to be authentic and adds a scintillating backdrop to the story. It’s ribald and intensely sexual as its adherents grind and moan in a grand excess that sharply contrasts with Bond’s square, hopelessly white mien. He looks out of place with the natives and has a difficult time making himself inconspicuous. Voodoo is presented as sacred magic and the displays reflect this consideration in their primacy and unassailable totality. It has a decisive rhythm which is ably captured by cinematographer Ted Moore. There is a tremendous energy to these scenes and they intensify the narrative with a fluidity that is intoxicating and glorious.
The story involves the heinous plans of a man named Mr. Big who proves to be Dr. Kananga in disguise. He wants to place two metric tons of heroin into the market for free in order to drive all other suppliers out of business while doubling the number of addicts. Then he intends on charging outlandish prices and thereby cementing his position in the industry for many years to come. The film pits Bond’s haughty glamour against the venomous yet strident personality of the good doctor. It’s a nifty brand of warfare that leads to a spectacular if overlong boat chase that seems to drag on and on with no seeming end it sight. Of course Solitaire finds herself caught in Bond’s irresistible web and her pristine physicality lends a delectable aspect to the film. Bond takes her and leads her on a path toward ruin that is only thwarted by her willingness to continue following her man.
The film possesses an intensity that is maintained throughout. This is readily achieved by the occult aspects that play out in dramatic fashion and add a threat to the proceedings that Bond must circumvent. This is a dark world peopled by confusing deities who may or may not possess those who participate in the rituals. It is decidedly removed from the perfectly ordered universe in which Bond usually carries himself in and the contrast greatly enriches the film. There is a real sense of being led out of one’s senses or at least one’s comfort zone into a hysterical, treacherous place of potential danger where the usual rules do not apply.
Roger Moore captures all of the nuances one has come to expect from the Sean Connery and George Lazenby versions. He’s suave, even-tempered and impeccably dressed at all times. He conveys the same structured charm that attracts all those who are sucked into his realm. He is the proper man that cannot be wrecked by any vice that otherwise drains the life of lesser men who prove unable to handle themselves when confronted with tastes that overwhelm them.
As a Bond girl Jane Seymour projects a terrifying innocence that is almost too fragile and delicate. She represents a certifiable force of nature who is stripped of her powers by Bond’s unwavering sexual logic. He tricks her into bed and she is left with nothing but brief pleasure and the realization that there will now be a price on her head. Such is the consequence of falling for a man who treats most of his women with casual, throwaway disdain after using them for his own enormous pleasure. That she is a virgin only adds to the deliciousness of the endeavor. Solitaire is literally brought into the world by an intruder with a resolute focus on attaining his aim and who recognizes no protestations in the process. There has always been something of a rapist in Bond as he continuously forces himself on women who are seemingly too weak to resist. He takes what he wants and merely puts another notch in his belt after he has finished with them. Solitaire is a particularly juicy conquest for everything she represents: unsullied purity, sweet-faced innocence and a lack of womanly pretense.
Dr. Kananga is a decidedly devious villain. He also presents a formidable personage that is both glamourous and absolute. He is a man of tremendous charisma and a perfect foil for Bond who must use all his resources in order to defeat him. He knows how to use the frightening aspects of the occult and voodoo to control his subjects who seem to worship him as a god after a fashion. He cares not for the meddling insistence of Bond and the outside world that he represents.
Possession by another, whether human or supernatural, plays as a theme that works its way throughout this film. Solitaire, it can be argued, is taken over by Bond’s potency just as the villagers are possessed of the spirits of gods who speak through them. Disassociation reigns in this film as various states are either suggested or played out that conflict with normative societal routine. Also the introduction of heroin into the narrative enhances this idea bringing forth yet another way that consciousness can be altered if only for a brief period of time. Bond is such a loose cad who nonetheless values his particular grip on reality so it’s interesting to place him against the volatile realm of alternative realities in which he proves to be horribly inept. One would never imagine Bond imbibing a strange pill or doing anything that didn’t serve some sort of purpose in the end. In this film Bond is calculating to a fault and his limitations are clearly demonstrated when he’s faced with the strange affectations of Voodoo and the Tarot.
The performances in this film all work well within the construct of the script. Roger Moore makes a most welcomed debut here although he seems more tightly wound than previous incantations. He possesses all the requisite qualities and his performance adds a rich texture to the character. Yaphet Kotto is formidable as any Bond antagonist and even manages to ratch up the deviancy of the type through his character’s diabolical plan to ruin the lives of as many people as possible. Kotto is quite good here at playing a man who imagines he’s got all the bases covered. His supreme confidence vibrates in every frame. Jane Seymour as mentioned is quite lovely if helpless in her role as the primary Bond girl. She captures the character’s general winsomeness and proves to make a mesmerizing damsel in distress. It’s a great pleasure to watch her in peril primarily for her relative innocence. Julius Harris has a menacing gaiety about him throughout this film. He’s the grinning, laughing torturer who adds a supreme giddiness to the canon of Bond villains. Gloria Hendry bounces into every frame and the screen immediately comes alive with her presence. She’s lean, athletic, and so easily cajoled by Bond’s vital, carnal aggressiveness.
Overall, this film does everything a Bond film is supposed to do. It’s intense, vibrant and the characters are all properly conveyed by a standout cast. It uses its plot devices to its advantage by allowing them to unveil themselves naturally and without pretense. The ensuing scenes are filled with amusement, wonder and a strong connection to spiritual reality as it exists for some people who take great solace in their beliefs. It captures a mood that is readily maintained throughout and the end result is quite enjoyable on every front.
directed by Guy Hamilton
written by Tom Mankiewicz
starring Roger Moore, Yaphet Kotto, Jane Seymour, Julius Harris, Geoffrey Holder, David Hedison, Gloria Hendry, Bernard Lee, Lois Maxwell
Voodoo charms, tarot, and heinous plots inform this thrilling addition to the Bond Cannon. Roger Moore takes the helm and proceeds to maintain Bond’s affable charm and fierce hold over the tender bits of every woman he meets.
In this installment three agents mysteriously die at the hands of assassins in New York, New Orleans and a small Caribbean island called San Monique. Bond goes on an epic voodoo excursion to the island via New York. He discovers a colorful, stimulating world filled with magical incantations, succulent voodoo magic and the exquisite pull of the Tarot as he attempts to get to the bottom of the mystery. He is called to the island where the tyrannical Dr. Kananga (Kotto) holds sway and is greeted with a fabulous display of local tribal ceremony. Along the way he meets and lusts after the luscious young Solitaire (Seymour), the virgin Tarot mistress who reads the future and present for the diabolical Dr. Kananga. She is to remain pure for her readings to have any effect and it’s immediately clear that Bond will pop that cherry for his own pleasure and edification.
The voodoo in this film certainly appears to be authentic and adds a scintillating backdrop to the story. It’s ribald and intensely sexual as its adherents grind and moan in a grand excess that sharply contrasts with Bond’s square, hopelessly white mien. He looks out of place with the natives and has a difficult time making himself inconspicuous. Voodoo is presented as sacred magic and the displays reflect this consideration in their primacy and unassailable totality. It has a decisive rhythm which is ably captured by cinematographer Ted Moore. There is a tremendous energy to these scenes and they intensify the narrative with a fluidity that is intoxicating and glorious.
The story involves the heinous plans of a man named Mr. Big who proves to be Dr. Kananga in disguise. He wants to place two metric tons of heroin into the market for free in order to drive all other suppliers out of business while doubling the number of addicts. Then he intends on charging outlandish prices and thereby cementing his position in the industry for many years to come. The film pits Bond’s haughty glamour against the venomous yet strident personality of the good doctor. It’s a nifty brand of warfare that leads to a spectacular if overlong boat chase that seems to drag on and on with no seeming end it sight. Of course Solitaire finds herself caught in Bond’s irresistible web and her pristine physicality lends a delectable aspect to the film. Bond takes her and leads her on a path toward ruin that is only thwarted by her willingness to continue following her man.
The film possesses an intensity that is maintained throughout. This is readily achieved by the occult aspects that play out in dramatic fashion and add a threat to the proceedings that Bond must circumvent. This is a dark world peopled by confusing deities who may or may not possess those who participate in the rituals. It is decidedly removed from the perfectly ordered universe in which Bond usually carries himself in and the contrast greatly enriches the film. There is a real sense of being led out of one’s senses or at least one’s comfort zone into a hysterical, treacherous place of potential danger where the usual rules do not apply.
Roger Moore captures all of the nuances one has come to expect from the Sean Connery and George Lazenby versions. He’s suave, even-tempered and impeccably dressed at all times. He conveys the same structured charm that attracts all those who are sucked into his realm. He is the proper man that cannot be wrecked by any vice that otherwise drains the life of lesser men who prove unable to handle themselves when confronted with tastes that overwhelm them.
As a Bond girl Jane Seymour projects a terrifying innocence that is almost too fragile and delicate. She represents a certifiable force of nature who is stripped of her powers by Bond’s unwavering sexual logic. He tricks her into bed and she is left with nothing but brief pleasure and the realization that there will now be a price on her head. Such is the consequence of falling for a man who treats most of his women with casual, throwaway disdain after using them for his own enormous pleasure. That she is a virgin only adds to the deliciousness of the endeavor. Solitaire is literally brought into the world by an intruder with a resolute focus on attaining his aim and who recognizes no protestations in the process. There has always been something of a rapist in Bond as he continuously forces himself on women who are seemingly too weak to resist. He takes what he wants and merely puts another notch in his belt after he has finished with them. Solitaire is a particularly juicy conquest for everything she represents: unsullied purity, sweet-faced innocence and a lack of womanly pretense.
Dr. Kananga is a decidedly devious villain. He also presents a formidable personage that is both glamourous and absolute. He is a man of tremendous charisma and a perfect foil for Bond who must use all his resources in order to defeat him. He knows how to use the frightening aspects of the occult and voodoo to control his subjects who seem to worship him as a god after a fashion. He cares not for the meddling insistence of Bond and the outside world that he represents.
Possession by another, whether human or supernatural, plays as a theme that works its way throughout this film. Solitaire, it can be argued, is taken over by Bond’s potency just as the villagers are possessed of the spirits of gods who speak through them. Disassociation reigns in this film as various states are either suggested or played out that conflict with normative societal routine. Also the introduction of heroin into the narrative enhances this idea bringing forth yet another way that consciousness can be altered if only for a brief period of time. Bond is such a loose cad who nonetheless values his particular grip on reality so it’s interesting to place him against the volatile realm of alternative realities in which he proves to be horribly inept. One would never imagine Bond imbibing a strange pill or doing anything that didn’t serve some sort of purpose in the end. In this film Bond is calculating to a fault and his limitations are clearly demonstrated when he’s faced with the strange affectations of Voodoo and the Tarot.
The performances in this film all work well within the construct of the script. Roger Moore makes a most welcomed debut here although he seems more tightly wound than previous incantations. He possesses all the requisite qualities and his performance adds a rich texture to the character. Yaphet Kotto is formidable as any Bond antagonist and even manages to ratch up the deviancy of the type through his character’s diabolical plan to ruin the lives of as many people as possible. Kotto is quite good here at playing a man who imagines he’s got all the bases covered. His supreme confidence vibrates in every frame. Jane Seymour as mentioned is quite lovely if helpless in her role as the primary Bond girl. She captures the character’s general winsomeness and proves to make a mesmerizing damsel in distress. It’s a great pleasure to watch her in peril primarily for her relative innocence. Julius Harris has a menacing gaiety about him throughout this film. He’s the grinning, laughing torturer who adds a supreme giddiness to the canon of Bond villains. Gloria Hendry bounces into every frame and the screen immediately comes alive with her presence. She’s lean, athletic, and so easily cajoled by Bond’s vital, carnal aggressiveness.
Overall, this film does everything a Bond film is supposed to do. It’s intense, vibrant and the characters are all properly conveyed by a standout cast. It uses its plot devices to its advantage by allowing them to unveil themselves naturally and without pretense. The ensuing scenes are filled with amusement, wonder and a strong connection to spiritual reality as it exists for some people who take great solace in their beliefs. It captures a mood that is readily maintained throughout and the end result is quite enjoyable on every front.
Film Review--Daddy's Little Girls
Daddy’s Little Girls
written and directed by Tyler Perry
starring Gabrielle Union, Idris Elba, Louis Gossett Jr., Tasha Smith, Gary Anthony Sturgis, Tracee Ellis Ross, Malinda Williams, Terri J Vaughn
In a town haunted with the dealings of a nasty drug hustler, one man struggles to maintain a righteous posture while supporting his three little girls.
Monty (Elba) is a mechanic who dreams of owning his own shop one day. His boss is the kindly Willie (Gossett Jr.) to whom he has been attempting to make down payments on the place although his funds or scant as he’s been supporting his girls due to the non-participation of deadbeat mom Jennifer (Smith). Jennifer lives with an unsavory character named Joseph who is perpetually arrested but keeps getting off because nobody in the neighborhood will testify against him.
This film is exceedingly simplistic in that it presents such a clear contrast between the good and the bad. So much so that the audience merely tunes out because the conflict is so straightforward that there are no nuances to keep the imagination active. It’s obvious from the start that Joseph is a bad apple utterly loathed by his community and that eventually justice will be served. It’s also readily apparent that once Monty meets Julia (Union), sparks will inevitably fly and everyone will go home singing hosannas to the trees. There is no mystery here and it’s only the performances that make this film watchable.
Julia is a trial lawyer who is known as something of a barracuda in court. When we first meet her she’s hard, uptight, and utterly dedicated to her work. She hasn’t had a man in a while and laments the forced blind dates her friends Cynthia (Ross) and Brenda (Vaughn) keep setting her up on. So, when Monty becomes her personal driver it’s clear that there will be tension followed immediately by kissy face nausea. Although her friends loath the idea of Julia dating a man so obviously beneath her, she trudges on and defies them with what eventually turns out to be a strong love for the man.
Monty is also an ex-con who screwed a seventeen year old girl who told him she was eighteen. Perhaps because he was black Monty was strung up for eight long years after the father caught them in flagrante delicto. But Monty recovered and has made something of himself despite the obstacle of being a known felon. It’s important for the film that he become something strong and definitive for his children who look upon him for guidance and substance. The key conflict in the film arises when one of the girls sets a fire inside Monty’s apartment after he has left them alone. Child Protective services get involved and give Jennifer custody despite the fact that she is a no good skank drug fiend who doesn’t care one iota for their safety and well being. She allows Joseph to blackmail the eldest child into running dope into her school by telling her he’ll kill her father if she doesn’t. He beats the youngest and leaves obvious bruises on her shoulders which any CPS agent would notice and raise the alarm or so one would think. Perhaps this film can be read as a critique of the CPS who are labeled as not caring for the children all that much.
Being a Tyler Perry film there is a distinct Christian tone throughout this picture. Monty is presented as a God-fearing man who dutifully goes to church and tries to live his life in accordance to biblical principles of good-will and submission. He merely wants to do the right thing by his girls without too many complications barring his progress. There are a couple of long sequences in church where singers praise their God and offer a firm backbone for the story as it unfolds. It’s a story about redemption after a fashion as Monty eventually cures a nasty societal ill in the only way that makes sense to him. Naturally, this singular act effects the entire community and brings things to a nice, tidy end that leaves all the good, humble people mightily fulfilled. Still, there is no mystery here and in its place simply a rather pedestrian moral about staying true to God and avoiding the trappings that befall those who refuse to accept God’s will in their life. Jennifer and Joseph are so demonstrably foul in everything they do that it isn’t a surprise to anyone when their sordid amusements come back to haunt them in the end.
Wanton greed and vice are demonized here in such a way that there is a clear divide between those who succumb to them and those who do not. The drug lord/pimp is presented as an absolute scourge to the community, a cancer that must be eradicated because he is single handedly causing so much tumult and grief. Yet, early on he’s allowed to prosper because so much fear wracks those who could otherwise offer assistance in facilitating his incarceration. Perry’s intention here is to demonstrate how a lost soul sick with his own glory has become something gross and fearsome for an entire community who live scared, half lives because of his existence. They are merely running from the devil toward God because they feel they have no alternative and cannot bear what they imagine would be a terrible price for their boldness in confronting him.
The innocence of the girls is held up as some kind of ideal state. Joseph tries to steal this from them by abusing them in a variety of ways but the film naturally stands up against this. The film concedes that there are sinister forces in the world that threaten the common decency of good folk who simply want to be left to worship in their own way without having to be confronted with human blight and the horrors that they wreak. In this film goodness is rewarded and it’s antithesis is duly shot down as a clear example of what a life that is disagreeable with God ends up like. There is not a single gesture by Joseph and Jennifer that makes them out to be anything other than scoundrels. It’s a shame that they do not possess even a modicum of decency because it might have made the overall story arc less tedious in the end. One fully knows what is coming even if the method employed isn’t so readily telegraphed.
Monty and Joe are two men who have taken very different routes in formulating their lives. In a sense their plights can be seen as an example of how the Christian God is known to test adherents through various struggles and trials and how perseverance in the end wins out if one maintain’s faith throughout the ordeals. Monty is presented as a long-suffering believer who the film argues is deserving of the blessings that are rightfully his after being falsely accused and subsequently locked up. Joe is a man who has not seen the light and continues to live selfishly at the expense of others, including children. He is a one-dimensional fiend who exploits others for his own gain and in the lexicon of this film there is only one place fit for such a man.
The performances in this film are all quite good. Gabrielle Union plays the softening of Julia with a considerable amount of grace. She captures the pent up sexual frustration that drives her character into her work at the expense of a personal life. She gives Julia an inner intensity that she slowly releases once she finds a man she can be comfortable around. Idris Elba is a formidable force of quiet integrity in this film. He carries himself with a gentleness that is so necessary if the audience is to sympathize with him. Elbla moves with assurance throughout the film and demonstrates a calm that carries the film effortlessly. Louis Gossett Jr. is simply totemic and gentle in his understated role as a strong male mentor for Monty. Gossett Jr. doesn’t have to say all that much as his presence provides a strong touchstone for the film. Tasha Smith captures her character’s unwholesomeness with disturbing clarity. Jennifer has so readily given herself up to a lifestyle that is vile and degrading. Smith is astonishingly apt and conveying a slimy petulance that works well within the context of the film. Gary Anthony Sturgis hams it up as the unsavory drug dealer who sucks the life out of every room he enters. His character is base but not glamorous which is certainly intentional and reflects Perry’s overarching aversion to creating characters who are both vile and presentable.
Overall, this film manages to capture the psychological tortures afflicting its main characters. However, the overall plot too readily paints a situation that is such an obvious dichotomy that it’s difficult to fully engage in the material. It’s merely a case of wholesomeness versus depravity and there is no catharsis in the end because nothing has been invested in the story. It’s all too clear where the film is headed so by the end it doesn’t matter much how it is resolved. The saving grace of this film is the performances which are natural and slightly elevated above the material. Ultimately, the message is too pat and the plot too unsophisticated to retain much interest.
written and directed by Tyler Perry
starring Gabrielle Union, Idris Elba, Louis Gossett Jr., Tasha Smith, Gary Anthony Sturgis, Tracee Ellis Ross, Malinda Williams, Terri J Vaughn
In a town haunted with the dealings of a nasty drug hustler, one man struggles to maintain a righteous posture while supporting his three little girls.
Monty (Elba) is a mechanic who dreams of owning his own shop one day. His boss is the kindly Willie (Gossett Jr.) to whom he has been attempting to make down payments on the place although his funds or scant as he’s been supporting his girls due to the non-participation of deadbeat mom Jennifer (Smith). Jennifer lives with an unsavory character named Joseph who is perpetually arrested but keeps getting off because nobody in the neighborhood will testify against him.
This film is exceedingly simplistic in that it presents such a clear contrast between the good and the bad. So much so that the audience merely tunes out because the conflict is so straightforward that there are no nuances to keep the imagination active. It’s obvious from the start that Joseph is a bad apple utterly loathed by his community and that eventually justice will be served. It’s also readily apparent that once Monty meets Julia (Union), sparks will inevitably fly and everyone will go home singing hosannas to the trees. There is no mystery here and it’s only the performances that make this film watchable.
Julia is a trial lawyer who is known as something of a barracuda in court. When we first meet her she’s hard, uptight, and utterly dedicated to her work. She hasn’t had a man in a while and laments the forced blind dates her friends Cynthia (Ross) and Brenda (Vaughn) keep setting her up on. So, when Monty becomes her personal driver it’s clear that there will be tension followed immediately by kissy face nausea. Although her friends loath the idea of Julia dating a man so obviously beneath her, she trudges on and defies them with what eventually turns out to be a strong love for the man.
Monty is also an ex-con who screwed a seventeen year old girl who told him she was eighteen. Perhaps because he was black Monty was strung up for eight long years after the father caught them in flagrante delicto. But Monty recovered and has made something of himself despite the obstacle of being a known felon. It’s important for the film that he become something strong and definitive for his children who look upon him for guidance and substance. The key conflict in the film arises when one of the girls sets a fire inside Monty’s apartment after he has left them alone. Child Protective services get involved and give Jennifer custody despite the fact that she is a no good skank drug fiend who doesn’t care one iota for their safety and well being. She allows Joseph to blackmail the eldest child into running dope into her school by telling her he’ll kill her father if she doesn’t. He beats the youngest and leaves obvious bruises on her shoulders which any CPS agent would notice and raise the alarm or so one would think. Perhaps this film can be read as a critique of the CPS who are labeled as not caring for the children all that much.
Being a Tyler Perry film there is a distinct Christian tone throughout this picture. Monty is presented as a God-fearing man who dutifully goes to church and tries to live his life in accordance to biblical principles of good-will and submission. He merely wants to do the right thing by his girls without too many complications barring his progress. There are a couple of long sequences in church where singers praise their God and offer a firm backbone for the story as it unfolds. It’s a story about redemption after a fashion as Monty eventually cures a nasty societal ill in the only way that makes sense to him. Naturally, this singular act effects the entire community and brings things to a nice, tidy end that leaves all the good, humble people mightily fulfilled. Still, there is no mystery here and in its place simply a rather pedestrian moral about staying true to God and avoiding the trappings that befall those who refuse to accept God’s will in their life. Jennifer and Joseph are so demonstrably foul in everything they do that it isn’t a surprise to anyone when their sordid amusements come back to haunt them in the end.
Wanton greed and vice are demonized here in such a way that there is a clear divide between those who succumb to them and those who do not. The drug lord/pimp is presented as an absolute scourge to the community, a cancer that must be eradicated because he is single handedly causing so much tumult and grief. Yet, early on he’s allowed to prosper because so much fear wracks those who could otherwise offer assistance in facilitating his incarceration. Perry’s intention here is to demonstrate how a lost soul sick with his own glory has become something gross and fearsome for an entire community who live scared, half lives because of his existence. They are merely running from the devil toward God because they feel they have no alternative and cannot bear what they imagine would be a terrible price for their boldness in confronting him.
The innocence of the girls is held up as some kind of ideal state. Joseph tries to steal this from them by abusing them in a variety of ways but the film naturally stands up against this. The film concedes that there are sinister forces in the world that threaten the common decency of good folk who simply want to be left to worship in their own way without having to be confronted with human blight and the horrors that they wreak. In this film goodness is rewarded and it’s antithesis is duly shot down as a clear example of what a life that is disagreeable with God ends up like. There is not a single gesture by Joseph and Jennifer that makes them out to be anything other than scoundrels. It’s a shame that they do not possess even a modicum of decency because it might have made the overall story arc less tedious in the end. One fully knows what is coming even if the method employed isn’t so readily telegraphed.
Monty and Joe are two men who have taken very different routes in formulating their lives. In a sense their plights can be seen as an example of how the Christian God is known to test adherents through various struggles and trials and how perseverance in the end wins out if one maintain’s faith throughout the ordeals. Monty is presented as a long-suffering believer who the film argues is deserving of the blessings that are rightfully his after being falsely accused and subsequently locked up. Joe is a man who has not seen the light and continues to live selfishly at the expense of others, including children. He is a one-dimensional fiend who exploits others for his own gain and in the lexicon of this film there is only one place fit for such a man.
The performances in this film are all quite good. Gabrielle Union plays the softening of Julia with a considerable amount of grace. She captures the pent up sexual frustration that drives her character into her work at the expense of a personal life. She gives Julia an inner intensity that she slowly releases once she finds a man she can be comfortable around. Idris Elba is a formidable force of quiet integrity in this film. He carries himself with a gentleness that is so necessary if the audience is to sympathize with him. Elbla moves with assurance throughout the film and demonstrates a calm that carries the film effortlessly. Louis Gossett Jr. is simply totemic and gentle in his understated role as a strong male mentor for Monty. Gossett Jr. doesn’t have to say all that much as his presence provides a strong touchstone for the film. Tasha Smith captures her character’s unwholesomeness with disturbing clarity. Jennifer has so readily given herself up to a lifestyle that is vile and degrading. Smith is astonishingly apt and conveying a slimy petulance that works well within the context of the film. Gary Anthony Sturgis hams it up as the unsavory drug dealer who sucks the life out of every room he enters. His character is base but not glamorous which is certainly intentional and reflects Perry’s overarching aversion to creating characters who are both vile and presentable.
Overall, this film manages to capture the psychological tortures afflicting its main characters. However, the overall plot too readily paints a situation that is such an obvious dichotomy that it’s difficult to fully engage in the material. It’s merely a case of wholesomeness versus depravity and there is no catharsis in the end because nothing has been invested in the story. It’s all too clear where the film is headed so by the end it doesn’t matter much how it is resolved. The saving grace of this film is the performances which are natural and slightly elevated above the material. Ultimately, the message is too pat and the plot too unsophisticated to retain much interest.
Film Review--Saw V
Saw V
directed by David Hackl
written by Patrick Melton, Marcus Dustan
starring Tobin Bell, Costas Mandylor, Scott Patterson, Meagan Good, Besty Russell, Julie Benz, Mark Rolston, Greg Bryk
It’s all about team work. After Jigsaw’s (Bell) untimely demise, his apprentice Mark Hoffman (Mandylor) takes up the reigns and seemingly enjoys unfettered terror porn access to the writhings of several subjects who are all connected to the deaths of eight people in the burning of what was supposed to be an empty warehouse. They are all guilty and we get to watch them have their comeuppance in a variety of ingenious ways that are presented with a curdled nonchalance.
There is absolutely no pretense to style in this film and since those in the lurch are shown each to have played their part in unnecessary carnage, it becomes a mere sport to watch them die. Their deaths have no meaning and the only discernible purpose for their ongoing abuse is for the audience to experience a vicarious thrill during their torments. That is the only reason films like this are made anymore. They serve no lasting purpose and only prove to irritate the senses into some sort of complicity to what is being done to the subjects at hand. It isn’t particularly eventful or edifying and there is only a threadbare plot to get in the way of all the bloodshed.
It’s difficult to rate this one against the others but suffice to say the main reason it fails to live up to the standards set before is it lacks the participation of Shawnee Smith as a major force in the film. She is truly the only legitimate reason to follow the franchise and without her there is nothing much to look at. The mere idea of a sexy young thing wreaking havoc and suffering the taunts and travails of pure unadulterated tortured male lust fantasies is worth the price of admission. Alas we are left with two bumbling men who try to outwit each other for no real purpose until the inevitable has run its course. The deaths are ultimately not particularly enjoyable as far as these things go. They lack the ribald edge that some of the earlier installments possessed and perhaps this is deliberate. After all, this isn’t the master’s work. It’s cheap, knock off material that only manage to tarnish the great one’s image.
Another failing in this film is that it kills off the only intriguing characters within a few minutes of introducing them. It leaves the audience with a cat and mouse game that is not worth getting worked up over. Simply put it doesn’t much matter what happens because the key actors are not engaging and do nothing to hold the audience’s interest. The film does include more of Jigsaw’s peculiar brand of justice although these sequences merely bog down what paltry story exists. They come across as filler that is only implemented to wait for the butcherings and for no other reason.
After a short while one becomes numb to scene after scene of inglorious torture. Although in this one there isn’t even much of that to nail down one’s attention. The deaths come too quick and the joys of the contraptions that made the earlier versions feel fresh and vital are completely lost. The brilliance of these earlier films lie in the many ingenious methods that Jigsaw devised to dispatch his victims. The pleasure was strictly in just how deviant they could be and in this one all of that is utterly abandoned. There is one interesting torture sequence at the beginning where a man is forced to make a choice between being sawed in half or having his hands crushed. He chooses the latter but pulls his hands back too soon and is sliced open anyway. It’s grisly for gore hounds and one of two particularly graphic demonstrations which ought to be why this sort of film exists in the first place.
Overall, this is a rather pedestrian effort in a franchise that appears to be running on empty. There is no story and the only thing that is left is to wait for the bodies to start falling. Perhaps there has never really been a story although some actors seem tailor made for this sort of thing and milk as much valor out of the material as they can. But this installment doesn’t seem to care about presenting anything worth watching and instead focuses entirely on presenting a series of poorly conceived torture scenes that serve no purpose in the end. Horror is genuinely best when it leaves things to the imagination and not when it ably shows the extreme level of violence it imagines its audiences are hungry for. Granted there is quite a following for this franchise and it will inevitably limp toward several other films but the audience seems to be waning although it is still a cash cow for Lionsgate.
directed by David Hackl
written by Patrick Melton, Marcus Dustan
starring Tobin Bell, Costas Mandylor, Scott Patterson, Meagan Good, Besty Russell, Julie Benz, Mark Rolston, Greg Bryk
It’s all about team work. After Jigsaw’s (Bell) untimely demise, his apprentice Mark Hoffman (Mandylor) takes up the reigns and seemingly enjoys unfettered terror porn access to the writhings of several subjects who are all connected to the deaths of eight people in the burning of what was supposed to be an empty warehouse. They are all guilty and we get to watch them have their comeuppance in a variety of ingenious ways that are presented with a curdled nonchalance.
There is absolutely no pretense to style in this film and since those in the lurch are shown each to have played their part in unnecessary carnage, it becomes a mere sport to watch them die. Their deaths have no meaning and the only discernible purpose for their ongoing abuse is for the audience to experience a vicarious thrill during their torments. That is the only reason films like this are made anymore. They serve no lasting purpose and only prove to irritate the senses into some sort of complicity to what is being done to the subjects at hand. It isn’t particularly eventful or edifying and there is only a threadbare plot to get in the way of all the bloodshed.
It’s difficult to rate this one against the others but suffice to say the main reason it fails to live up to the standards set before is it lacks the participation of Shawnee Smith as a major force in the film. She is truly the only legitimate reason to follow the franchise and without her there is nothing much to look at. The mere idea of a sexy young thing wreaking havoc and suffering the taunts and travails of pure unadulterated tortured male lust fantasies is worth the price of admission. Alas we are left with two bumbling men who try to outwit each other for no real purpose until the inevitable has run its course. The deaths are ultimately not particularly enjoyable as far as these things go. They lack the ribald edge that some of the earlier installments possessed and perhaps this is deliberate. After all, this isn’t the master’s work. It’s cheap, knock off material that only manage to tarnish the great one’s image.
Another failing in this film is that it kills off the only intriguing characters within a few minutes of introducing them. It leaves the audience with a cat and mouse game that is not worth getting worked up over. Simply put it doesn’t much matter what happens because the key actors are not engaging and do nothing to hold the audience’s interest. The film does include more of Jigsaw’s peculiar brand of justice although these sequences merely bog down what paltry story exists. They come across as filler that is only implemented to wait for the butcherings and for no other reason.
After a short while one becomes numb to scene after scene of inglorious torture. Although in this one there isn’t even much of that to nail down one’s attention. The deaths come too quick and the joys of the contraptions that made the earlier versions feel fresh and vital are completely lost. The brilliance of these earlier films lie in the many ingenious methods that Jigsaw devised to dispatch his victims. The pleasure was strictly in just how deviant they could be and in this one all of that is utterly abandoned. There is one interesting torture sequence at the beginning where a man is forced to make a choice between being sawed in half or having his hands crushed. He chooses the latter but pulls his hands back too soon and is sliced open anyway. It’s grisly for gore hounds and one of two particularly graphic demonstrations which ought to be why this sort of film exists in the first place.
Overall, this is a rather pedestrian effort in a franchise that appears to be running on empty. There is no story and the only thing that is left is to wait for the bodies to start falling. Perhaps there has never really been a story although some actors seem tailor made for this sort of thing and milk as much valor out of the material as they can. But this installment doesn’t seem to care about presenting anything worth watching and instead focuses entirely on presenting a series of poorly conceived torture scenes that serve no purpose in the end. Horror is genuinely best when it leaves things to the imagination and not when it ably shows the extreme level of violence it imagines its audiences are hungry for. Granted there is quite a following for this franchise and it will inevitably limp toward several other films but the audience seems to be waning although it is still a cash cow for Lionsgate.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Film Review--El Marido perfecto (The Perfect Husband)
El Marido Perfecto (The Perfect Husband)
directed by Beda Docampo Feijóo
written by Beda Docampo Feijóo and Juan Bautista Stagnaro
starring Tim Roth, Ana Belén, Peter Firth, Aitana Sánchez-Gijón, Jorge Marrale
At the end of the 19th century a man named Franz (Firth) returns to his old friend Milan’s (Roth) life and the pair quickly return to their placid friendship. After seven years apart, he bears news that his wife Nathasha (Belén) has died recently leaving him somewhat broken. The film chronicles their reunion and the many complications that were initiated back when they were friends.
Milan is an exceedingly cocky bastard who is quite popular in the circles in which he runs. He’s a talented pianist and opera singer and routinely entertains around the city. He’s also something of a cad and women seem genuinely drawn to him. In many ways he’s the precise opposite of Franz who seems unsure of himself and unsteady at every turn. Milan professes to have no idea why Franz has returned but in actuality he is dead certain. Their reunion proves to be a game and the joy is seeing how far each man can involve themselves in the giddy proceedings.
The film spends half of its time in flashback establishing both the relationship between Milan and Natasha as well as Franz’s utter oblivion to it. Milan aggressively pursues Natasha from the outset. He paws and prods her, pushes her buttons and otherwise gets her all riled up. His technique manages to work and all inhibitions fall by the wayside. Their lovemaking is a bit rough which adds a tangy edge to the film because it really is about an untoward passion that cannot be restrained by any moral code. It’s supposed to have an animalistic quality to it because Milan represents a bawdy, contemptuous spirit who doesn’t live like most people. He’s daring, somewhat reckless, and utterly carefree. He’s a musician who knows his gift is remarkable and this fact affects his every movement. He’s languid, slow to temper, and seems to take life simply as it comes to him without getting overwrought for no good reason. He sees what he wants and he gets it because that’s just the type of chap he is. He doesn’t court someone or try to learn their favorite perfume. No, he’s up front because when he’s hungry he wants to dine on something rare and a bit unusual.
Throughout the film there is the issue of duels. Milan claims to have been in 29 of them and indeed as the film opens he is participating in another one. After the other man, a general, misses, Milan doesn’t take the opportunity to fatally wound him and instead shoots him in the leg. This adds a sense of honor to the film and provides a backdrop upon which the rest of the story can be ably displayed. If nothing else Milan is an honorable man who just happens to take his pleasures where he can find them even if the fruit he seeks is growing on another man’s vine. It doesn’t take much effort for him to succeed so he eventually tires and goes away just as Natasha has become pregnant.
The tension in this film is quite profoundly realized. The scenes between Milan and Franz are dutifully claustrophobic and one simply wants to have an opportunity to leave the room. The use of dramatic irony is effective as is the natural pacing which allows things to unfold in accordance with their own momentum. Not much in terms of action actually happens in this film as most of it pursues the psychological dance taking place between the two men. During the flashback we are made privy to the relationship between all three characters and it does strike one as rather foolish of Franz to allow his good friend so much access to his pretty wife. Honestly, no man should ever be so trusting to expect such intimacy to remain fully chaste. Human flesh is as it is and proximity often leads to entanglements that can never be undone. In this case it was but a matter of time.
There is a scientific approach to the physical movements in this film. Every gesture, movement, or posture is precisely choreographed economically in an almost martial sense. The act of folding a letter becomes something of a military maneuver or a ballet. Every scene has an exactness which is ordered and exceedingly well constructed. There are no false gestures and everything reeks of aesthetic perfection that can never be properly maintained. Order is inevitably compromised and in this film the undoing is methodical and painstaking.
The film is basically a slow, agonizing death march toward an inevitable conclusion. Along the way there is terrible heartache as Milan discovers something that he has long suspected to be true. Still, the actual knowledge turns to misery as what he discovers is quickly taken from him after but a short while. This is the key bit of information that informs the penultimate act which is necessary for the overall arc of the film. The film doesn’t spend much time exploring this setback for Milan; it is established and used at the end to explain the specific outcome of an event within which he fully was prepared to lose out.
The score by José Nieto is exquisitely rendered as it builds considerable tension through the use of strings and piano. Often times the strings are used much in the same way they are for horror films although in this case they are more subtle and buried further down in the mix. Still, they are quite effective and achieve just the correct amount of distemper from each scene. The music enhances the complexity of the relationship between these two men and doesn’t much allow the viewer to extract themselves from the agony held within.
There is a scene where Franz takes Milan along to meet with a young woman named Klara (Aitana Sánchez-Gijón) who he is enamored with. It is immediately clear that she is smitten with Milan despite him having done nothing direct to attract her attention. This is an example of the terrible charisma which Milan possesses and just how much Franz lacks this vital attribute. It proves that Milan’s charm is irresistible and intoxicating to just about any woman he encounters. It’s the ease with which he presents himself and the undeniable force of character which every gesture, however slight, suggests.
This is a film about the repercussions often realized by the application of animal appetites. Milan and Natasha carry out their design with supreme artistry that nevertheless contributes to the malaise of the man who is left outside the merrymaking and forced to brood once he becomes privy to the severity of the situation. His plight never becomes a matter of singular importance because he is played for the cuckold and this is a film about supreme confidence that has no place for the pet miseries of those who are incapable of performing. Milan is a bona fide man about town who seems not to acknowledge limits nor to spend anytime ruminating over the foul course of his actions. He’s an artist who expects a certain appeasement from everyone he comes in contact with.
The sex scenes between Milan and Natasha are truly primal and offer a nice offset to the gentility demonstrated throughout the rest of the picture. Natasha is presented as a proper lady which means she carries herself with a certain decorum in public. The joy in the film emerges as she is slowly stripped of all pretenses and reduced to a panting, heaving creature almost too hungry for her own good. This is a genuine debauch that slowly builds up to the point of distress. Natasha is released from a specific code that demands a particular demonstration and she revels in her freedom from socially-sanctioned restraint. Milan all too willingly takes advantage of Natasha’s desire to be pummeled somewhat by a man who knows what he is doing. She has tired of the polite, schoolboyish approach her husband, being somewhat terrified of her body, takes during their essentially unsatisfactory lovemaking sessions. Milan offers pleasures heretofore unrealized and Natasha enjoys them without suffering pangs of guilt or other unnecessary malaises.
The film presents an impossibly organized world in which everything has its place. People are expected to behave in accordance with specific rules that are duly enforced through measures of self-reproaching psychological tortures that leave individuals weighed down with tremendous guilt. This does not apply to Milan and Natasha because they have discovered a pathway straight to the source of all physical pleasure. They are divorced from society by the very fact that they refuse to acknowledge its restrictive rules and arbitrary edicts about what is decent and thereby acceptable.
The performances in this film are all quite delectable. Tim Roth gives one of his finer turns as a seducer with no qualms regarding any outcome that his behavior might wrought. Milan is simply too blase to become afflicted by any actions he indulges in. When he tires of the game he simply absconds. He seems to know no fear regarding any outcome that might bring him physical harm. He simply accepts the possibility and propels himself forward without a semblance of worry about what vile thing might happen to him. He haughtily places his hand over a flame to test his own ability to block out pain. Franz is unable to do this which demonstrates a clear distinction between the two men. Ana Belén plays a tempestuous woman ravished by lust who simply disappears from the story once Milan has tired of her. It is not made evident whether or no she lived in shame after the fact but the tone of the film suggests that this is unlikely. Belén radiates a heat that is readily apparent from her first appearance in the film. Peter Firth carries himself with a quiet dignity that is nevertheless undermined throughout the film. He is a man who does everything expected of him only to be made something of a laughingstock. The film is none to sympathetic to Franz until the very end when he makes a decisive gesture that makes direct sense in terms of his honor and integrity.
Overall, this is an intoxicating film that explores the vagaries of lust and the slow-burning entanglements of revenge. It is a character study of two men of distinctly different types who see the world through very different eyes. Milan is a man of the world who doesn’t shrink when faced with imminent danger. Franz is more reserved and less bold with his actions. Together they make an odd pair and it’s not evident just what they provide for one another. Perhaps Franz enjoys living vicariously through Milan due to his ability to effect so many people with his music. Still, it isn’t entirely clear just what Milan gets from the arrangement other than access to Franz’s wife. That may be all. It would explain why Milan asks Franz directly why he has come to visit him even though he is fully aware of Franz’s intentions and is merely awaiting the inevitable satisfaction.
directed by Beda Docampo Feijóo
written by Beda Docampo Feijóo and Juan Bautista Stagnaro
starring Tim Roth, Ana Belén, Peter Firth, Aitana Sánchez-Gijón, Jorge Marrale
At the end of the 19th century a man named Franz (Firth) returns to his old friend Milan’s (Roth) life and the pair quickly return to their placid friendship. After seven years apart, he bears news that his wife Nathasha (Belén) has died recently leaving him somewhat broken. The film chronicles their reunion and the many complications that were initiated back when they were friends.
Milan is an exceedingly cocky bastard who is quite popular in the circles in which he runs. He’s a talented pianist and opera singer and routinely entertains around the city. He’s also something of a cad and women seem genuinely drawn to him. In many ways he’s the precise opposite of Franz who seems unsure of himself and unsteady at every turn. Milan professes to have no idea why Franz has returned but in actuality he is dead certain. Their reunion proves to be a game and the joy is seeing how far each man can involve themselves in the giddy proceedings.
The film spends half of its time in flashback establishing both the relationship between Milan and Natasha as well as Franz’s utter oblivion to it. Milan aggressively pursues Natasha from the outset. He paws and prods her, pushes her buttons and otherwise gets her all riled up. His technique manages to work and all inhibitions fall by the wayside. Their lovemaking is a bit rough which adds a tangy edge to the film because it really is about an untoward passion that cannot be restrained by any moral code. It’s supposed to have an animalistic quality to it because Milan represents a bawdy, contemptuous spirit who doesn’t live like most people. He’s daring, somewhat reckless, and utterly carefree. He’s a musician who knows his gift is remarkable and this fact affects his every movement. He’s languid, slow to temper, and seems to take life simply as it comes to him without getting overwrought for no good reason. He sees what he wants and he gets it because that’s just the type of chap he is. He doesn’t court someone or try to learn their favorite perfume. No, he’s up front because when he’s hungry he wants to dine on something rare and a bit unusual.
Throughout the film there is the issue of duels. Milan claims to have been in 29 of them and indeed as the film opens he is participating in another one. After the other man, a general, misses, Milan doesn’t take the opportunity to fatally wound him and instead shoots him in the leg. This adds a sense of honor to the film and provides a backdrop upon which the rest of the story can be ably displayed. If nothing else Milan is an honorable man who just happens to take his pleasures where he can find them even if the fruit he seeks is growing on another man’s vine. It doesn’t take much effort for him to succeed so he eventually tires and goes away just as Natasha has become pregnant.
The tension in this film is quite profoundly realized. The scenes between Milan and Franz are dutifully claustrophobic and one simply wants to have an opportunity to leave the room. The use of dramatic irony is effective as is the natural pacing which allows things to unfold in accordance with their own momentum. Not much in terms of action actually happens in this film as most of it pursues the psychological dance taking place between the two men. During the flashback we are made privy to the relationship between all three characters and it does strike one as rather foolish of Franz to allow his good friend so much access to his pretty wife. Honestly, no man should ever be so trusting to expect such intimacy to remain fully chaste. Human flesh is as it is and proximity often leads to entanglements that can never be undone. In this case it was but a matter of time.
There is a scientific approach to the physical movements in this film. Every gesture, movement, or posture is precisely choreographed economically in an almost martial sense. The act of folding a letter becomes something of a military maneuver or a ballet. Every scene has an exactness which is ordered and exceedingly well constructed. There are no false gestures and everything reeks of aesthetic perfection that can never be properly maintained. Order is inevitably compromised and in this film the undoing is methodical and painstaking.
The film is basically a slow, agonizing death march toward an inevitable conclusion. Along the way there is terrible heartache as Milan discovers something that he has long suspected to be true. Still, the actual knowledge turns to misery as what he discovers is quickly taken from him after but a short while. This is the key bit of information that informs the penultimate act which is necessary for the overall arc of the film. The film doesn’t spend much time exploring this setback for Milan; it is established and used at the end to explain the specific outcome of an event within which he fully was prepared to lose out.
The score by José Nieto is exquisitely rendered as it builds considerable tension through the use of strings and piano. Often times the strings are used much in the same way they are for horror films although in this case they are more subtle and buried further down in the mix. Still, they are quite effective and achieve just the correct amount of distemper from each scene. The music enhances the complexity of the relationship between these two men and doesn’t much allow the viewer to extract themselves from the agony held within.
There is a scene where Franz takes Milan along to meet with a young woman named Klara (Aitana Sánchez-Gijón) who he is enamored with. It is immediately clear that she is smitten with Milan despite him having done nothing direct to attract her attention. This is an example of the terrible charisma which Milan possesses and just how much Franz lacks this vital attribute. It proves that Milan’s charm is irresistible and intoxicating to just about any woman he encounters. It’s the ease with which he presents himself and the undeniable force of character which every gesture, however slight, suggests.
This is a film about the repercussions often realized by the application of animal appetites. Milan and Natasha carry out their design with supreme artistry that nevertheless contributes to the malaise of the man who is left outside the merrymaking and forced to brood once he becomes privy to the severity of the situation. His plight never becomes a matter of singular importance because he is played for the cuckold and this is a film about supreme confidence that has no place for the pet miseries of those who are incapable of performing. Milan is a bona fide man about town who seems not to acknowledge limits nor to spend anytime ruminating over the foul course of his actions. He’s an artist who expects a certain appeasement from everyone he comes in contact with.
The sex scenes between Milan and Natasha are truly primal and offer a nice offset to the gentility demonstrated throughout the rest of the picture. Natasha is presented as a proper lady which means she carries herself with a certain decorum in public. The joy in the film emerges as she is slowly stripped of all pretenses and reduced to a panting, heaving creature almost too hungry for her own good. This is a genuine debauch that slowly builds up to the point of distress. Natasha is released from a specific code that demands a particular demonstration and she revels in her freedom from socially-sanctioned restraint. Milan all too willingly takes advantage of Natasha’s desire to be pummeled somewhat by a man who knows what he is doing. She has tired of the polite, schoolboyish approach her husband, being somewhat terrified of her body, takes during their essentially unsatisfactory lovemaking sessions. Milan offers pleasures heretofore unrealized and Natasha enjoys them without suffering pangs of guilt or other unnecessary malaises.
The film presents an impossibly organized world in which everything has its place. People are expected to behave in accordance with specific rules that are duly enforced through measures of self-reproaching psychological tortures that leave individuals weighed down with tremendous guilt. This does not apply to Milan and Natasha because they have discovered a pathway straight to the source of all physical pleasure. They are divorced from society by the very fact that they refuse to acknowledge its restrictive rules and arbitrary edicts about what is decent and thereby acceptable.
The performances in this film are all quite delectable. Tim Roth gives one of his finer turns as a seducer with no qualms regarding any outcome that his behavior might wrought. Milan is simply too blase to become afflicted by any actions he indulges in. When he tires of the game he simply absconds. He seems to know no fear regarding any outcome that might bring him physical harm. He simply accepts the possibility and propels himself forward without a semblance of worry about what vile thing might happen to him. He haughtily places his hand over a flame to test his own ability to block out pain. Franz is unable to do this which demonstrates a clear distinction between the two men. Ana Belén plays a tempestuous woman ravished by lust who simply disappears from the story once Milan has tired of her. It is not made evident whether or no she lived in shame after the fact but the tone of the film suggests that this is unlikely. Belén radiates a heat that is readily apparent from her first appearance in the film. Peter Firth carries himself with a quiet dignity that is nevertheless undermined throughout the film. He is a man who does everything expected of him only to be made something of a laughingstock. The film is none to sympathetic to Franz until the very end when he makes a decisive gesture that makes direct sense in terms of his honor and integrity.
Overall, this is an intoxicating film that explores the vagaries of lust and the slow-burning entanglements of revenge. It is a character study of two men of distinctly different types who see the world through very different eyes. Milan is a man of the world who doesn’t shrink when faced with imminent danger. Franz is more reserved and less bold with his actions. Together they make an odd pair and it’s not evident just what they provide for one another. Perhaps Franz enjoys living vicariously through Milan due to his ability to effect so many people with his music. Still, it isn’t entirely clear just what Milan gets from the arrangement other than access to Franz’s wife. That may be all. It would explain why Milan asks Franz directly why he has come to visit him even though he is fully aware of Franz’s intentions and is merely awaiting the inevitable satisfaction.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Film Review--What Just Happened
What Just Happened
directed by Barry Levinson
written by Art Linson
based on the book by Art Linson
starring Robert De Niro, Catherine Keener, Michael Wincott, John Turturro, Stanley Tucci, Kristen Stewart, Bruce Willis, Sean Penn, Robin Wright Penn
An insider’s gaffe into the ins and out of the Hollywood sucking machine, this film offers a decently paced, intelligent view of the bright lights and blistering egos of the sordid and mercurial industry.
The story revolves around Bruce Willis’s beard. He plays himself and he’s being payed $20 million to star in the latest film from beleaguered producer Ben (De Niro). Unfortunately for everyone concerned Bruce loves his beard and has no intentions on shaving it off because he has grown rather attached to it. His reluctance threatens to shut down the film and this potential chaos weighs heavily on the soul of Ben who is going through his own brand of hell. One of his latest films, directed by the drug addled Jeremy Brunell (Wincott) tested poorly with audiences because of one disastrous scene that studio boss Lou Tarnow (Keener) insists must be cut out. Meanwhile Ben is going through the ringer with his soon to be ex-wife Kelly (Robin Wright Penn) and struggling to understand his daughter Zoe (Stewart) , the spawn of his first wife, who seems to have developed a sexuality that Ben finds cumbersome.
The film is all about the inside wreckage that makes up the typical Hollywood production. There is a legitimate slime factor at play here as everyone involved seems to slither and flick out their tongues at every turn. This is certainly one of the greasiest films of this ilk because everyone involved seems to be coated in slime from head to toe. This film is a series of disagreeable scenes between people who have sold their souls to the highest bidder. It’s a rather effective take on the quiet miseries that afflict those who find themselves drawn into this quagmire where there is nothing but sordid amusements and an ever flowing hosanna of death and ego destruction.
The overall feeling is one of desperation and inevitable heartbreak. Ben is simply a target for all those ill feelings that are a systematic element in the production of any film. The urgency and difficulty inherent in this process is played out well in this film. Sure, it’s mostly cobbled from better films and the overall project comes off as a series of cliches but overall there is something deeply likable about this bird’s eye view of the machinations of deceit that are played out here. It’s a bit claustrophobic which proves to convey the tight quarters in the shark cage as the various players attempt to maneuver for best position and the best shot at freshly killed meat.
Throughout this film deals with rather trivial terrors as Ben tries to sort out a series of distresses that are seemingly bearing down on him all at once. Still, it’s difficult to feel anything whatsoever for him and this probably has much to do with his job description which doesn’t exactly lend itself to sympathy. Actually, just about every character comes off as loathsome in their own way as they repeatedly cut into the flesh of anyone who dares to stand in proximity with them. Still, they just don’t quite cut hard enough to make this into a memorable account of these people and their pathetic attempts to make themselves appear more honorable than they are. The overall result is merely a number of individuals scrapping on the scrap heap looking to score a deal that will transform their ego-drunk happenstance into something bankable long into the dusty future.
This is a staying game and it’s ultimately difficult to comprehend precisely what the intended result is for these creatures of ill repute. Do they merely yearn to be allowed to continue smearing the world’s consciousness with their trite bedlam or do they consider the bottom line as the be all end all of this cinematic slaughterhouse where good ideas are raped and sent packing, back home to the small houses where drunk fathers continue the humiliation with switches and slobbering swipes at what is left of the victim’s dignity and pubic honor? Ben is certainly a likable guy on the surface but surfaces are always misleading in this particular game. There is no room for sweetness and the tender stroking of the chin. Ben’s job necessitates a certain brutality that he must engage with if he is to continue his ascent toward the vaunted peaks where very few are privileged enough to go. Yet, personally, he’s charming after a fashion and uses this ability to convince others to come along for the ride.
Lou is hard and mean which she must be as she is a woman sloughing through what is traditionally a man’s world. She is simply forward and decidedly organized which makes her dangerous to anyone who dares to cross her. Yet, there is something of the gamine in her as she flashes that smile that can charm a farmer out of his last stick of butter. This is Catherine Keener’s genius. She creates this character as both a tiger shark and the woman you would want to spend your time drinking egg nog and changing nappies.
There is a film within a film that features Sean Penn who plays himself with a sort of awkward grace that must cause him to wonder if he really behaves in that manner. The same can be said of Bruce Willis who is actually playing a bloated curmudgeon version of himself as he’s prone to throwing fits because he refuses to lose the beard and become the traditional leading man the film crew and producers are demanding him to be. In a way his plight is sympathetic because he’s merely reflecting an indie sensibility where principle actors often play against the standard look of the leading man and do occasionally look scruffy and ill-kempt. It’s a parody of the Hollywood that insists on keeping things within a specific parameter because it imagines audiences will not accept a character who challenges their expectations.
The performances in this film are all quite good. John Turturro is gangly and possesses a strange mien which is smarmy in its own way but deeply likable nonetheless. His character comes off as rather helpless and suffers from a terrible stomach ailment. Catherine Keener brings a solvency to Lou which is paramount in the film and singularly worth the price of admission. She stands the other characters down and owns every scene she’s in. Stanley Tucci has his own irksome qualities as he works the angle while attempting to get his work read and turned into a film. Robert De Niro plays it rather downbeat and doesn’t seem to be making too much of an effort in this film which is still better than most everyone else out there. Michael Wincott as Jeremy is hyperactive and captures the urgency of the spoilt director who needs so desperately to be loved. He’s petulant but his immense talent allows him to get away with murder.
Overall, this film is a decent overview of the shark eat shark world of Hollywood. It captures the essence of the pains that are a natural part of attempting to create such monumental organisms that so often prove to possess no value whatsoever. This film is all about the interactions of those caught up into the maelstrom and for the most part it delivers a fascinating portrait of just how the industry represents itself. It’s provocative but not necessarily profound. It’s a small film with a minimal agenda and ultimately works out in the end.
directed by Barry Levinson
written by Art Linson
based on the book by Art Linson
starring Robert De Niro, Catherine Keener, Michael Wincott, John Turturro, Stanley Tucci, Kristen Stewart, Bruce Willis, Sean Penn, Robin Wright Penn
An insider’s gaffe into the ins and out of the Hollywood sucking machine, this film offers a decently paced, intelligent view of the bright lights and blistering egos of the sordid and mercurial industry.
The story revolves around Bruce Willis’s beard. He plays himself and he’s being payed $20 million to star in the latest film from beleaguered producer Ben (De Niro). Unfortunately for everyone concerned Bruce loves his beard and has no intentions on shaving it off because he has grown rather attached to it. His reluctance threatens to shut down the film and this potential chaos weighs heavily on the soul of Ben who is going through his own brand of hell. One of his latest films, directed by the drug addled Jeremy Brunell (Wincott) tested poorly with audiences because of one disastrous scene that studio boss Lou Tarnow (Keener) insists must be cut out. Meanwhile Ben is going through the ringer with his soon to be ex-wife Kelly (Robin Wright Penn) and struggling to understand his daughter Zoe (Stewart) , the spawn of his first wife, who seems to have developed a sexuality that Ben finds cumbersome.
The film is all about the inside wreckage that makes up the typical Hollywood production. There is a legitimate slime factor at play here as everyone involved seems to slither and flick out their tongues at every turn. This is certainly one of the greasiest films of this ilk because everyone involved seems to be coated in slime from head to toe. This film is a series of disagreeable scenes between people who have sold their souls to the highest bidder. It’s a rather effective take on the quiet miseries that afflict those who find themselves drawn into this quagmire where there is nothing but sordid amusements and an ever flowing hosanna of death and ego destruction.
The overall feeling is one of desperation and inevitable heartbreak. Ben is simply a target for all those ill feelings that are a systematic element in the production of any film. The urgency and difficulty inherent in this process is played out well in this film. Sure, it’s mostly cobbled from better films and the overall project comes off as a series of cliches but overall there is something deeply likable about this bird’s eye view of the machinations of deceit that are played out here. It’s a bit claustrophobic which proves to convey the tight quarters in the shark cage as the various players attempt to maneuver for best position and the best shot at freshly killed meat.
Throughout this film deals with rather trivial terrors as Ben tries to sort out a series of distresses that are seemingly bearing down on him all at once. Still, it’s difficult to feel anything whatsoever for him and this probably has much to do with his job description which doesn’t exactly lend itself to sympathy. Actually, just about every character comes off as loathsome in their own way as they repeatedly cut into the flesh of anyone who dares to stand in proximity with them. Still, they just don’t quite cut hard enough to make this into a memorable account of these people and their pathetic attempts to make themselves appear more honorable than they are. The overall result is merely a number of individuals scrapping on the scrap heap looking to score a deal that will transform their ego-drunk happenstance into something bankable long into the dusty future.
This is a staying game and it’s ultimately difficult to comprehend precisely what the intended result is for these creatures of ill repute. Do they merely yearn to be allowed to continue smearing the world’s consciousness with their trite bedlam or do they consider the bottom line as the be all end all of this cinematic slaughterhouse where good ideas are raped and sent packing, back home to the small houses where drunk fathers continue the humiliation with switches and slobbering swipes at what is left of the victim’s dignity and pubic honor? Ben is certainly a likable guy on the surface but surfaces are always misleading in this particular game. There is no room for sweetness and the tender stroking of the chin. Ben’s job necessitates a certain brutality that he must engage with if he is to continue his ascent toward the vaunted peaks where very few are privileged enough to go. Yet, personally, he’s charming after a fashion and uses this ability to convince others to come along for the ride.
Lou is hard and mean which she must be as she is a woman sloughing through what is traditionally a man’s world. She is simply forward and decidedly organized which makes her dangerous to anyone who dares to cross her. Yet, there is something of the gamine in her as she flashes that smile that can charm a farmer out of his last stick of butter. This is Catherine Keener’s genius. She creates this character as both a tiger shark and the woman you would want to spend your time drinking egg nog and changing nappies.
There is a film within a film that features Sean Penn who plays himself with a sort of awkward grace that must cause him to wonder if he really behaves in that manner. The same can be said of Bruce Willis who is actually playing a bloated curmudgeon version of himself as he’s prone to throwing fits because he refuses to lose the beard and become the traditional leading man the film crew and producers are demanding him to be. In a way his plight is sympathetic because he’s merely reflecting an indie sensibility where principle actors often play against the standard look of the leading man and do occasionally look scruffy and ill-kempt. It’s a parody of the Hollywood that insists on keeping things within a specific parameter because it imagines audiences will not accept a character who challenges their expectations.
The performances in this film are all quite good. John Turturro is gangly and possesses a strange mien which is smarmy in its own way but deeply likable nonetheless. His character comes off as rather helpless and suffers from a terrible stomach ailment. Catherine Keener brings a solvency to Lou which is paramount in the film and singularly worth the price of admission. She stands the other characters down and owns every scene she’s in. Stanley Tucci has his own irksome qualities as he works the angle while attempting to get his work read and turned into a film. Robert De Niro plays it rather downbeat and doesn’t seem to be making too much of an effort in this film which is still better than most everyone else out there. Michael Wincott as Jeremy is hyperactive and captures the urgency of the spoilt director who needs so desperately to be loved. He’s petulant but his immense talent allows him to get away with murder.
Overall, this film is a decent overview of the shark eat shark world of Hollywood. It captures the essence of the pains that are a natural part of attempting to create such monumental organisms that so often prove to possess no value whatsoever. This film is all about the interactions of those caught up into the maelstrom and for the most part it delivers a fascinating portrait of just how the industry represents itself. It’s provocative but not necessarily profound. It’s a small film with a minimal agenda and ultimately works out in the end.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Film Review--Diamonds are Forever
Diamonds are Forever
directed by Guy Hamilton
written by Richard Maibaum and Mankiewicz
starring Sean Connery, Jill St. John, Charles Gray, Lana Wood, Putter Smith, Jimmy Dean, Bruce Cabot, Bruce Glover, Norman Burton, Bernard Lee, Desmond Llewelyn, Leonard Barr, Lois Maxwell
Excruciating luxury, dead-on black humour, and the sexual politics of power inform the seventh installment in the Bond series. Sean Connery is lured back after a brief hiatus and he brings the expected totemic aesthetic to his performance that has made the character synonymous with easy sex and all out cool.
In this story Bond is sent to Amsterdam to get to the bottom of a diamond smuggling ring. He impersonates a man named Peter Franks (Joe Robinson) and meets up with Tiffany Case (St. John). She’s initially cold which merely means Bond is going to have to step up the charm a bit more to conquer her as is his standard practice with every woman he meets. She is part of a chain and slowly the film reveals the other oddball players involved in the scheme. The film is basically about characters and showcases a collection of primary weirdos who are working together to complete their unsavory task.
Although they are universally loathed as Bond henchman, I find the homosexual duo Mr. Wint (Glover) and Mr. Kidd (Smith) to be delightfully menacing and genuinely entertaining throughout the film. They slowly set out to eliminate every one in the chain and aside from an understandable slip-up they nearly succeed. They are the source of much of the film’s morbid humour and send off each of their victims with dry puns that provide the film with a decadent swagger.
Eventually, the whole mess leads to the great Bond villain Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Gray). His employment of the diamonds is for yet another diabolical grab of ultimate power. His achievement is grand if not wholly implausible but it demonstrates a tremendous ambition regarding technology and a devious application of talents born from a type of studied winsomeness. Blofeld proves to be a quintessential foil to Bond’s essential charisma as he was in two previous films, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service and You Only Live Twice. In this film Blofeld uses a double to fool Bond on two separate occasions. He is certainly less mysterious here, more out in the open and therefore more vulnerable to any device Bond might employ to terminate him and bring an end to his reign of threatened terror.
The man about town who seems to own nearly everything of note is named Willard Whyte (Dean) and Blofeld’s been using voice recognition technology to impersonate him for years. Whyte’s mien is impressive and he represents the excesses of pure economic power and how it can easily be uprooted by a strong military force bent on domination and creating states of servitude to its infinite might. Power hungry dictators often get their way at least at first but history has proven that a stultified sex appeal ultimately leads to their unfortunate demise.
Diamonds are described and displayed as principle objects of great purity in form and substance. They are the alluring symbol of excellence that plagues mankind with an insistence that can never be stripped away. Yet they remain mere symbols here and seem to lack the sexual component that makes so many individuals purr at the very thought of being draped in their unabashed certainty. They are mere tools for a terrible plan of destruction that is more symbolic of ingenuity than anything else. Each character in the drama nonchalantly captures the enigma of the diamonds before paying dearly with their life. These diamonds start off in the mines of South Africa and work their way to the states through a number of tricky ploys that are daringly pulled off with compunction and skill. The writers of this tale end up with a rather complicated and mostly believable film replete with all the dangers one has come to expect of the Bond Franchise. Yet, there seems to be something lacking here and it mostly comes down to the chemistry between Bond and Tiffany. It just doesn’t feel like they have anything particularly vital together plus she doesn’t really do anything of note. There is something quite delectable however between Bond and Plenty O’Toole (Wood) but she’s hardly on the screen which is a crying shame. I imagine an alternative story where Plenty seduces Bond and proves to be Blofeld’s niece working hard to make Uncle proud. Still, she’s a real doll when she’s on screen and her inevitable demise has a dark erotic elegance.
Very often in this film one wonders if Bond is going to be able to throw on that terrible charm but it so often doesn’t materialize. In many ways this feels like a Bond film without Bond. The chase scene is fabulous as it involves a brilliant stunt that gives the film a legitimate jolt that carries it along for a considerable length of time. Bond is on screen for much of it but there is something decidedly lacking about how much the character is committed to the scorching scenarios playing out around him. It’s dreadful to attempt to say that perhaps Connery was walking through this one but it’s a distinct possibility.
Still, there’s quite a bit of inventive killing in this film and even Bond ends up nearly baked in a coffin being sent through the crematorium. He’s also shoved into a giant pipe on a construction site and left to scramble for his life. Indeed, it’s rather enjoyable to watch how close Bond comes to his death although one is always reminded that it’s never going to happen.
This doesn’t seem to be as sexy as previous Bond films. The only real sex appeal comes in the guise of Plenty and two bombastic hotties who guard Whyte for Blofeld. Bambi (Lola Larson) and Thumper (Trina Parks) offer a whiz bang formidability that poses a real threat to Bond’s cool. Their acrobatic maneuvers add a real kick to the film that is only too brief. I don’t honestly think the vaunted James Bond could handle either of these women because they would be all too unconquerable as potential lust objects who can be merely tossed aside as soon as the flesh cools down.
The performances in this film are all quite adequate for the Bond legacy. Sean Connery whips his magic spell and mostly gives Bond the standard flex of debonair necessity and strong arm dynamics that we all have come to expect of him. Jill St. John does what she can with a rather weak character who doesn’t live up to the other Bond women who have come before her in the canon. Charles Gray makes for a worthy adversary who is as commanding as the other Blofelds who have risen and fallen before him. He’s gamey and his movements startle and confound. Bruce Glover is a grand joy to watch as he works with Putter Smith toward wicked ends that provide the film with moments of legitimate glee. Jimmy Dean looks like an impresario with a massive bankroll and his scenes are imbued with a confidence that only comes with absurd amounts of cold hard cash.
Overall, this Bond excursion seems to lack the energy of previous films but it makes up for it with humour and an exegesis on the allure of diamonds in a variety of contexts. It doesn’t capture the thrill of the gems but it’s fairly expressive in its action sequences and how it presents its characters. The wanderings of its key henchmen are worthy of a story by themselves and each of them play off the other quite well. Ultimately, this isn’t the best of the early Bonds but it’s entertaining enough and holds the attention throughout.
directed by Guy Hamilton
written by Richard Maibaum and Mankiewicz
starring Sean Connery, Jill St. John, Charles Gray, Lana Wood, Putter Smith, Jimmy Dean, Bruce Cabot, Bruce Glover, Norman Burton, Bernard Lee, Desmond Llewelyn, Leonard Barr, Lois Maxwell
Excruciating luxury, dead-on black humour, and the sexual politics of power inform the seventh installment in the Bond series. Sean Connery is lured back after a brief hiatus and he brings the expected totemic aesthetic to his performance that has made the character synonymous with easy sex and all out cool.
In this story Bond is sent to Amsterdam to get to the bottom of a diamond smuggling ring. He impersonates a man named Peter Franks (Joe Robinson) and meets up with Tiffany Case (St. John). She’s initially cold which merely means Bond is going to have to step up the charm a bit more to conquer her as is his standard practice with every woman he meets. She is part of a chain and slowly the film reveals the other oddball players involved in the scheme. The film is basically about characters and showcases a collection of primary weirdos who are working together to complete their unsavory task.
Although they are universally loathed as Bond henchman, I find the homosexual duo Mr. Wint (Glover) and Mr. Kidd (Smith) to be delightfully menacing and genuinely entertaining throughout the film. They slowly set out to eliminate every one in the chain and aside from an understandable slip-up they nearly succeed. They are the source of much of the film’s morbid humour and send off each of their victims with dry puns that provide the film with a decadent swagger.
Eventually, the whole mess leads to the great Bond villain Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Gray). His employment of the diamonds is for yet another diabolical grab of ultimate power. His achievement is grand if not wholly implausible but it demonstrates a tremendous ambition regarding technology and a devious application of talents born from a type of studied winsomeness. Blofeld proves to be a quintessential foil to Bond’s essential charisma as he was in two previous films, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service and You Only Live Twice. In this film Blofeld uses a double to fool Bond on two separate occasions. He is certainly less mysterious here, more out in the open and therefore more vulnerable to any device Bond might employ to terminate him and bring an end to his reign of threatened terror.
The man about town who seems to own nearly everything of note is named Willard Whyte (Dean) and Blofeld’s been using voice recognition technology to impersonate him for years. Whyte’s mien is impressive and he represents the excesses of pure economic power and how it can easily be uprooted by a strong military force bent on domination and creating states of servitude to its infinite might. Power hungry dictators often get their way at least at first but history has proven that a stultified sex appeal ultimately leads to their unfortunate demise.
Diamonds are described and displayed as principle objects of great purity in form and substance. They are the alluring symbol of excellence that plagues mankind with an insistence that can never be stripped away. Yet they remain mere symbols here and seem to lack the sexual component that makes so many individuals purr at the very thought of being draped in their unabashed certainty. They are mere tools for a terrible plan of destruction that is more symbolic of ingenuity than anything else. Each character in the drama nonchalantly captures the enigma of the diamonds before paying dearly with their life. These diamonds start off in the mines of South Africa and work their way to the states through a number of tricky ploys that are daringly pulled off with compunction and skill. The writers of this tale end up with a rather complicated and mostly believable film replete with all the dangers one has come to expect of the Bond Franchise. Yet, there seems to be something lacking here and it mostly comes down to the chemistry between Bond and Tiffany. It just doesn’t feel like they have anything particularly vital together plus she doesn’t really do anything of note. There is something quite delectable however between Bond and Plenty O’Toole (Wood) but she’s hardly on the screen which is a crying shame. I imagine an alternative story where Plenty seduces Bond and proves to be Blofeld’s niece working hard to make Uncle proud. Still, she’s a real doll when she’s on screen and her inevitable demise has a dark erotic elegance.
Very often in this film one wonders if Bond is going to be able to throw on that terrible charm but it so often doesn’t materialize. In many ways this feels like a Bond film without Bond. The chase scene is fabulous as it involves a brilliant stunt that gives the film a legitimate jolt that carries it along for a considerable length of time. Bond is on screen for much of it but there is something decidedly lacking about how much the character is committed to the scorching scenarios playing out around him. It’s dreadful to attempt to say that perhaps Connery was walking through this one but it’s a distinct possibility.
Still, there’s quite a bit of inventive killing in this film and even Bond ends up nearly baked in a coffin being sent through the crematorium. He’s also shoved into a giant pipe on a construction site and left to scramble for his life. Indeed, it’s rather enjoyable to watch how close Bond comes to his death although one is always reminded that it’s never going to happen.
This doesn’t seem to be as sexy as previous Bond films. The only real sex appeal comes in the guise of Plenty and two bombastic hotties who guard Whyte for Blofeld. Bambi (Lola Larson) and Thumper (Trina Parks) offer a whiz bang formidability that poses a real threat to Bond’s cool. Their acrobatic maneuvers add a real kick to the film that is only too brief. I don’t honestly think the vaunted James Bond could handle either of these women because they would be all too unconquerable as potential lust objects who can be merely tossed aside as soon as the flesh cools down.
The performances in this film are all quite adequate for the Bond legacy. Sean Connery whips his magic spell and mostly gives Bond the standard flex of debonair necessity and strong arm dynamics that we all have come to expect of him. Jill St. John does what she can with a rather weak character who doesn’t live up to the other Bond women who have come before her in the canon. Charles Gray makes for a worthy adversary who is as commanding as the other Blofelds who have risen and fallen before him. He’s gamey and his movements startle and confound. Bruce Glover is a grand joy to watch as he works with Putter Smith toward wicked ends that provide the film with moments of legitimate glee. Jimmy Dean looks like an impresario with a massive bankroll and his scenes are imbued with a confidence that only comes with absurd amounts of cold hard cash.
Overall, this Bond excursion seems to lack the energy of previous films but it makes up for it with humour and an exegesis on the allure of diamonds in a variety of contexts. It doesn’t capture the thrill of the gems but it’s fairly expressive in its action sequences and how it presents its characters. The wanderings of its key henchmen are worthy of a story by themselves and each of them play off the other quite well. Ultimately, this isn’t the best of the early Bonds but it’s entertaining enough and holds the attention throughout.
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