The Road

A father and son try to survive in a dieing world in "The Road."

(John Hillcoat, 2009)

by Thomas Gatto

I’ve never read a single novel from Cormac McCarthy, but since viewing the literary adaptation of “No Country for Old Men” in 2007 and now this year’s “The Road,” I’m seriously considering a venture into this author’s work during winter break. “The Road,” deemed unadaptable by many scholars and critics, is not your typical post apocalyptic movie. Try to get the images of “Escape from New York” and “The Road Warrior” out of your mind. This is a grim, dark, and depressing exercise into the end-of-the-world genre that has recently crowded the film world with the likes of “2012” and “I Am Legend.” Many who have viewed the movie with the literary source in mind have criticized the John Hillcoat adaptation merely because it fails to conjure up the same emotions the source material was able to materialize with your own imagination. Fortunately, since I’ve never read this book I have the privilege to see “The Road” with an unbiased eye, judging the movie based upon its own merits rather than constantly making unfair parallels to its literary companion. With a very small cast, mostly consisting of Viggo Mortensen, Kodi Smit-McPhee, and Charlize Theron, “The Road” is a relentless look into the fall of humanity, a nightmare of a picture although hard to watch is compelling and intriguing with major help from the on-screen chemistry between Mortenson and Smit-McPhee.

“The Road” is set in a post-apocalyptic future where an unnamed father (Mortenson) and son (Smit-McPhee) are trying to survive on little food and a gun with two bullets in it. Forget the clips you saw in “2012” because “The Road” is not concerned with CGI and special effects. This is a film grounded in reality, suggesting what the world would be like if it really were to end. The father teaches his son how to properly kill himself if the time is appropriate. The sky fails to show any sunlight of any kind, remaining dark grayish for nearly the entire production. The only time we get sunlight is when director Hillcoat flashes us back to when the family was together, father, son, and mother, played by Charlize Theron. “The Road” may feel like it slogs along with a deliberate pace, but these flashbacks keep things interesting and eventful. Most are told through the father’s dreams. They are brilliantly shot and comfortably transitioned to. The problems the two survivors have to face is finding food, water, shelter, and avoiding cannibals. Yes, there are cannibals in the movie, and it is not a surprised to see humanity killing itself, falling down to the confounds of darkness like the tall trees falling in the woods while father and son endlessly escape death time and time again.

The trailers to this highly anticipated adaptation have sort of been a little misleading. Although vague, because I only watched it once or twice back when it was set to be released last year, I remember thinking this was depicted as an action picture in vein of post-apocalyptic action movies like “Mad Max” or the recent homage “Doomsday.” “The Road” is really nothing like this at all. But it does have moments of suspense and thrills. Run-in’s with strangers who will do anything for a bite in a house, paranoia when the father thinks people are following them after finding a safe haven underground, and a beginning moment where father has no choice but to gamble on his son’s life after the latter merely being captured by a gang member inhabit the on-goings in this human natured based experience.

Charlize Theoron does a lot with little screen time in her role told through flashbacks. She represents a loss of hope; her fate is never a mystery, just a dark reminder to the father that the current world he lives in is filled with despairing emotions, fearful atmospheric tones, and discouraging promises. Part of her decision to depart is solely based on her decision to rear her child in a world this grim and morbid. Even though her death direction is hard to relate to, you can understand why she does the things she does. Her last scene is unbearably emotional, and this is a testament to both the acting and direction. Although a characterization is never built for the Theron character, she plays as a dream to the audience, one that is haunting the father eternally in his cognition. Tossing his last picture of her away does little in helping him forget about his dearly departed life partner. The father’s son claims he wants to remember his mother, and in a heart breaking proclamation, the father states, “it’s time we start forgetting about her…the both of us.”

Although dividing audiences with its grim perspective, “The Road” has been universally praised for its look and acting. Viggo Mortenson is superb once again as the unnamed father. His only objectives are to head south and maintain the life of his very young son. Loss, depression, anger, and frustration is all garnered through Mortenson’s performance. Even though he will likely fail in getting an Oscar here, his road to the holy grail is inevitably growing shorter and shorter. New comer Smit-McPhee is outstanding as the son, a child who has been born into this depressing world. A scene depicting his first encounter with a soft drink is both poignant and sad. Although you would expect him to gobble down the drink, the son passionately insists on his father taking a sip, and these kinds of moments make “The Road” bearable. The on-screen chemistry between Mortenson and Smit-McPhee is at the epicenter of a world where all seems to be lost. The father’s undying will to live, and the son’s brave innocence keeps the audience involved and intrigued. It is a bleak, but altogether authentic post-apocalyptic experience.

The cast may mainly consist of Mortenson and Smit-McPhee but cameos by Robert Duval and Guy Pierce are also a welcome addition here. In particular, the performance by Robert Duval is extremely depressing and haunting, and it is all the more impressive based on the little screen time he shares with the audience. One of the admirable elements in “The Road” is Hillcoat’s direction. Every moment where you are beginning to get relaxed, something dramatic occurs. The pacing is deliberate but there are moments like the encounter with Duval’s character that keep the narrative both entertaining and involved. Moreover, the set pieces and overall look of the film is devastating and solidly sold to viewers. Rotted away buildings, slanted power line polls, a bleak sky, little sunlight, lack of hygiene regarding the two leads, cold and isolated landscape, broken down cars laying in the middle of the roads, and abandoned houses makes “The Road” feel all the more authentic and real.

However, some audiences may grow inpatient with the pacing exhibited by Hillcoat. His Australian western “The Proposition” I have not seen, but is known for having pace issues. For me, this did little in tainting my experience. Viewers looking for explosions and gut wrenching CGI sequences will probably be disappointed by where Hillcoat takes us. “The Road” is really not about plot, leaving the cause of this apocalypse marred in ambiguity, but focused heavily on the character of human nature. It begs to question what one would do in a situation like this. The son asks his father if they would ever eat a person if they were starving. The father simply answers no. And when the son doubles back with “even if we were really starving?” The father states “we’re starving now.” In a rather poetic sequence, the son may, or may not have seen another child lurking around a house where the father grew up. While the father was in the house, the son runs away to try and meet with this kid. The father does not believe anyone was there. Just like the cause of this apocalyptic occurrence, director Hillcoat leaves it in ambiguity. Isolation never felt more terrifying than exemplified here.

Ultimately, one would expect the novel to be better than the movie adaptation. But when was the last time the movie triumphed over the source material? The only instance I could think of is the Gregory Peck vehicle “To Kill a Mocking Bird,” but even that proclamation could be argued and debated upon. When you review a movie one has to detach themselves from the book if they had read it before watching the adaptation counterpart. Likewise with my experience with Zack Snyder’s adaptation of “Watchmen” earlier this year, I was able to view “The Road” with little distraction and solely focused on the movie that was presented to me. Director Hillcoat, alongside screenwriter Joe Penhall brings you into a stark universe filled with nightmare and despair. The foreshadowed conclusion is extremely poignant and poetic, but a lack-of-hope lingers in the back of your mind given the exhausting experience your driven to witness. “The Road” is not a movie I’m willing to watch again for quite some time, but delivers the emotional punch I was hoping for when first hearing about its acclaimed source material.

Stars (out of four): ***1/2

Away We Go

John Krasiniski and Maya Rudloph in "Away We Go."

(Sam Mendes, 2009)

by Thomas Gatto

Sam Mendes is universally known as making films about families in crisis. “American Beauty,” the movie that nabbed him his first Oscar as well as garnishing best picture, hits the nail on the donkey when discussing suburban morals and the consequences for breaking those morals. A few films, like “Election” and “Little Children” borrow greatly from the Mendes masterwork but no other film in memory has illustrated a clearer insight into Middle America than “American Beauty.” Although I have not seen “Road to Perdition” yet, “Jarhead” seems to be a step in the right direction regarding the psyche of a soldier’s mind when it is bent on destruction and chaos. “Revolutionary Road,” most famous for pairing “Titanic” couple Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet together again, is a near-masterpiece, a perfect portrait of a marriage gone wrong. Now Mendes brings his directorial skills to helm “Away We Go,” a movie so off the beaten path for this particular auteur I had to look at the credits twice because I was in sheer disbelief. This is probably his letter to us stating that he is capable of making happy movies, stories that are absent of doomed fates, miserable people, and no-win situations. Well, “Away We Go” is not really absent of these things, just explores those themes in a much different way than he has ever exhibited before. “Away We Go” is about a not-so-rich couple who seems to be holding on to one thing; their love for each other. Although it may be too in love with itself at times, setting up characters that are too unbelievable to believe in, it nevertheless contains a handful of laughs and sentimental moments that are earned by the two leads in Maya Rudolph (SNL) and John Krasinski (The Office).

Verona and Burt live in Colorado and have cardboard windows inside a broken down cabin. After a comedic sequence involving oral play, Verona discovers that she is pregnant. But there is a problem. The couple is in their young 30’s and seems to have hit a cross-road. Burt works in insurance and Verona is an artist, but this does not stop Verona from deliberately using the word “fuck-ups” when describing their current life status. Luckily, Burt is their to convince her otherwise. Then again, Burt is not the one who is pregnant is he? Since she is pregnant, Burt and Verona visit Burt’s parents. They live close, and perhaps this is one of the reasons to why the couple is living in a place that they seem to be unhappy with. Burt’s parents, Gloria (Catherine O’Hara) and Jerry (Jeff Daniels) seem to be quirky individuals. But they announce their plans to move to Belgium and have their house rented out rather than give it to Burt and Verona to live in. Who said parents are supposed to care anyway? With the latter announcement, Burt and Verona decided there isn’t much reason to stick around, so they depart on a trip that takes them to places like Phoenix, Tucson, Madison, Montreal, and Miami. Resembling a picaresque in style, “Away We Go” sends Burt and Verona on a trip to find themselves as a family, as well as gain perspective on themselves and their inner demons.

The direction from Mendes and the script from Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida resemble recent indie comedies that have rattled audiences since “Little Miss Sunshine” surprised us all with its brilliant mixture of comedy and drama. The first visit the couple takes is to Verona’s former co-worker Lily, who resides in Phoenix. She is played by Allison Janney and is a riot. Her personality and parenting skills seem to scare the couple, but Burt is especially terrified. She basically ignores the presence of her children, an on occasion ridiculing them like her daughter who she calls a “lesbian” in the making. Her husband is sort of a silent mute, the victim of the brutal whip of Lily. Most of Burt and Verona’s time with them are spent at a baseball game, and this segment, on the whole, worked effectively. But as the couple goes from one location to the next, you begin to get the feeling that “Away We Go” is struggling in two fold. One the one hand, it is trying to invoke a series of mishaps and misfortunes, leading to subtle laughter and smiles from the audience. On the other hand, Mendes is directing a piece that hits hard on the issues every couple goes through when trying to establish identity in society. This issue of tackling too much at one time seems to be plaguing these indie comedies. Although not as uneven as “Sunshine Cleaning,” the latter is a perfect example of a small film trying to bite off more than it can chew.

The couple goes to Burt’s family friend Ellen, played by the wonderful Maggie Gyllenhaal. She lives in Madison, and right off the bat you know she is not normal. Although the trend of lack-of-normalcy friends and relatives begins to be a tiring trend in the movie, the actors and actresses step it up big time to lift the material to new heights. Gyllenhall is hilarious as Ellen. She says she does not like strollers in the house because she “doesn’t want to push her children away from her.” She claims to make love to her husband while her child is in bed with them. Burt and Verona are again terrified. After a dinner that goes terribly wrong, working effectively in the funny department, the couple sets out to another location; Montreal. The latter is where Verona’s college buddies Tom and Munch reside. But “Away We Go” is not all about a road trip, there are sweet moments that reward audiences with authentic acting and true-to-life problems. Even though they have been done before, it is compelling enough to warrant being called entertainment.

In my first experience with both of these performers, both Maya Rudolph and John Krasinski are extremely satisfying as Verona and Burt respectably. Each gives their character a set of quirky traits that make them undeniably likable. Their chemistry together may be their best asset, and in turn, this made those cliché moments dealing with Verona’s pregnancy stress and Burt’s problems finding a job both believable and effective. Verona is worried about becoming fat, like all women who are pregnant. In a sarcastic manner, Burt says “Are you sure you lose your boobs?” Although his vibes give off a joking notion, Verona seems to take this into deep consideration. While visiting her sister in Tucson, Verona whispers to her sister, “Look at him, I’m pregnant and all he cares about is if I’ll keep my breasts.” But this problem is only a pin prick on the issue radar of Verona. Her little sister tries to get information regarding their dead parents. Verona claims that she doesn’t want to talk about it, and doesn’t remember too much. But she was 22 when they died? That is two years older than me, and I would hope to think that if my parents were to die I’d have a good memory of who they were. However, while Verona is dealing with numerous issues about her self confidence or lack-there-of, Burt is always there to cheer her up and make her laugh. When Verona confronts Burt about how they don’t fight enough, Burt raises his voice in a remarkable comedic sequence. The situation is both relatable and funny.

Towards its conclusion, “Away We Go” makes a drastic turn towards being sentimental. While visiting Burt’s brother in Miami because of his recent separation from his significant other, John Krasinki turns in a poignantly acted moment while sitting on the trampoline. Although the couple was scares throughout the trips, observing wildly eccentric relatives and friends, this is the moment that terrified them the most. Seeing the pain his brother goes through sparks Burt’s own inner demons; his problem with Verona in regards to not being married. He wants to make it official but she does not want to for personal reasons. However, the moment they share together on the trampoline acts as a substitution for the traditional marriage convention. It may have been small and no guests were present, all that really matters is their love for one another. The latter is what makes “Away We Go” a recommendable motion picture. Through all the torment and turmoil Burt and Verona go through, it is really their love that holds them together. This is expertly exemplified through the dinner scene with Tom and Munch. Clichéd it is, but entertaining and sentimental is it too.

The formula for these type of indie comedies seems to be the follow; take an ordinary Hollywood issue that has been tackled hundreds of times before, carefully cloak it with a brilliant soundtrack and impeccable acting, and finally, create a set of quirky characters the leads run into from time to time to get laughs from audiences. Sometimes this fails, like in “Sunshine Cleaning.” Other times it works, like “500 Days of Summer” and ‘Juno.” What we have here is a film that falls in the middle. I can easily call it a film that will make you laugh and emotionally care, but also make you frustrated with its unrealistic supporting characters and annoying predictability regarding those sets of characters. But I think there is way too much here to like. “Away We Go” is a small film effectively tugging on your sense of humor and your heart, although you may feel melancholy after you’ve experienced it.

Stars (out of four): **1/2

Thirst

A priest faces a moral dilemma in "Thirst."

(Park Chan-wook, 2009)

by Thomas Gatto

In the past couple of days I have reviewed vampire and werewolf movies. The first two entries into the Twilight saga represent the bottom of the barrel, what not to do when making a supernatural movie with a romance involved. Ginger Snaps was a gem-of-a-film, a surprise diamond in the rough. The way the film was able to interlock lycanthropy with the excruciating process of puberty gave the cult movie certain intellectual elements not usually found in supernatural films, let alone teen films. Park Chan-wook, director of the audacious Oldboy helms the vampire thriller Thirst. The latter made a lot of noise at various film festivals, mostly being praised for its brilliant direction and bold style. But there seems to be more here than meets the eye. Chan-wook seems to be tugging at your emotional chord in a lot of diiferent directions throughout Thirst. Although by the end you are emotionally moved as you should be, the latest from Chan-wook probably tries to do too much at one time. A exploration into the moral dilemmas of a priest, his battle with becoming a vampire, a love story that turns wrong, and brutal killings of the innocence all inhabit the epic length of Thirst. Nevertheless, the movie is more effective and much more complex than one may believe when hearing about its vampire presence on paper.

Sang-hyun is a priest, volunteering at the local hospital to perform ministries to numerous patients. He is praised by many but secretly hides his suffering for humanity. A man who observes as much death and sorrow as this man has would surely exhibit similar emotions. He volunteers in a medical experiment in order to find a cure for a deadly disease. He is warned that he will more than likely die during the course of the experiment. But the priest lives, although everyone else who volunteered died. Time passes and the priest is beginning to be viewed as a godly figure. He wears cloth over his face because the sunlight bothers him. He feels the need to drink blood. Could the experiment have infected Sang-hyun with a disease turning him into a vampire? The priest begins to reconnect with an old friend, named Kang-woo. He goes to their house to play a traditional  game every night. But along with his yearning for blood, the priest begins to have feelings for Kang-woo’s wife, Tae-ju. Breaking a significant rule of the priest way of life, Sang-hyun makes love to Tae-ju. She seems to be attracted to him based on his vampire qualities. Eventually, Sang-hyun reveals that he is a vampire to Tae-ju. Contrasting greatly from the robotic emotions from Twilight, Tae-ju, at first, is scared and wants to get as far away from her new lover as possible.

Director Chan-wook sets himself up with a compelling premise. The morality of a priest and his never ending battle with being a vampire is intriguing. Unlike other films, the vampire here has to drink blood because the disease will come back and take over his body. His powers are all consistent with the mythology. He can jump to great distances and is stronger than ever before. Rather than kill for his blood, the priest takes blood from a patient who is in a deep coma. The latter worked well and was very inventive. But Chan-wook departs from this story to make an expansion into the romantic realm. Tae-ju shows marks on her body that her husband, Kang-woo, supposedly put on her. Sang-hyun is disgusted and eventually kills his old friend while on a boat trip. But the pot only seems to be boiling at this point. The couple is haunted by the ghost of Kang-woo. The dead corpse of Kang-woo suddenly appears lying in their bed, in a cabinet in the basement, or physically between the two of them as they make love. These shots are both comedic and haunting, a skill not easy to accomplish. But after a slip-up where Tae-ju accidentally reveals that her husband never beat her, and wanted him dead for revenge on the dire conditions she was kept in during the course of her stay, the priest becomes deeply outraged. Tae-ju asks Sang-hyun to kill her in order to be with her dead husband. He quickly obliges.

The set-up that gets us to this climactic moment is both beautiful and strange. Chan-wook does not shy away from showing nudity. This is an erotic of a film, and be on the look out for some prolonged sex scenes. The development between Tae-ju and the family she lives with is satisfying, but could have used a little more tinkering and fleshing out. The performances from the two leads are outstanding, encompassing their characters uniformly and whole-heartedly. Some audiences may become a little uneven at the pacing here, but it is not done in vein. Chan-wook is setting you up for a second act that promises bloodshed and thrills, but perhaps pales in comparison to the promising morality tale he could have expanded with the priest in the first act. Just before becoming outraged by Tae-ju over her lie, the priest goes on a long tangent stating how hard it was for him not to kill. But we, as an audience, never feel that agonizing pain Sang-hyun claims to feel when he embodies this vampire entity.

However, Thirst never fails in its stunning cinematography and gorgeous set pieces. Most of what takes place during the second act may get the story going in an action sense, but is not as fluidly narrated or poignantly toned as the first half was. Chan-wook tosses horror, thriller, romance, and revenge in a blender and spits it onto the screen. Is it entertaining? Indeed, but you get the feeling that a tragedy is on the horizon, and the unpredictable element that made the first act so finely tuned is now completely gone. The priest begins to realize what he has to do, and it takes sort of forever to get there. But Chon-wook keeps you on your toes by explicitly showing disgusting events. Scary they are not, but gruesome and disturbing they are.

Furthermore, while hurdling towards its conclusion, Chan-wook decides to toss an assortment of themes your way. False prophets, incompatible love, suicide, revenge, and grief are all explored here. Whether or not Chan-wook fluidly installs these themes into his narrative is not my focal concern. Never have I seen a foreign vampire film filled with so much emotion and feeling. The ending may be funny at first, but it never fails in moving you. Comparing Thirst to the likes of mega vampire hits like Let the Right One In will undoubtedly taint its value. But for those looking for a stylish film that is entertaining from start to finish, rather than stalling in the middle and filling the screen with shirtless boy toys, than Thirst will indeed quench your thirst. But be careful, Chan-wook is relentless when showing the most challenging of scenes to audiences. Not for the squeamish in the least.

Stars (out of four): ***

Ginger Snaps

Ginger (Katharine Isabelle) begins to worry about her recent brush with a werewolf in "Ginger Snaps."

(John Fawcett, 2000)

by Thomas Gatto

After watching the expected train wreck that is New Moon I turned to my friend and said, “If you want to see a good modern werewolf movie, you should check out Ginger Snaps.” Well, I took my own advice and re-watched the film last night. I was unable to write a proper review upon my first viewing because I only caught the film about 20 minutes in. My experience with the werewolf genre is extremely limited. I caught that dismal movie where Michael J. Fox plays basketball as a werewolf, and saw only bits and pieces of the classic An American Werewolf in London. I just think vampires or a more interesting breed of beast. But nevertheless, Ginger Snaps surprisingly delivers the goods. If I stated the names John Fawcett, Emily Perkins, and Katharine Isabelle, they would probably fail to generate any memories or thoughts. You can say Ginger Snaps is a movie that flew under the radar, given its limited release and poor budget. However, presenting a naturalistic script from Karen Walton and John Fawcett, terrific performances from its two female leads, and an interesting allegory to female menstruation, Ginger Snaps never fails to surprise.

The film opens with a brilliantly shot sequence involving a mutilated dog. The neighbor screams her dog has been killed, a bunch of kids playing hockey in the streets pause for a minute, then as if nothing had happened, go back to playing their game. It’s a darkly comedic introduction. Much of what follows in Ginger Snaps plays true to this opening. We are given two sisters, Brigitte and Ginger Fitzgerald. One is 15 and the other is 16, respectably. They are loners, the gothic type in their school. Dark clothes and a project on suicide, used poignantly as the opening credits, are perfect events that identify these two personas. The girls make a pact; to stick together till the end. Basically meaning if one was to die, the other would die too. When arriving at school Ginger Snaps takes heavy inspiration from Heathers, highlighting the terrors of adolescence and the various cliques within every high school hallway. The girls make fun of a pretty girl who teases them. Her name is Trina. Trina, in retaliation, pushes Brigitte into the demented body parts of a killed dog, yet another victim of the mysterious beast lurking around town. In an effort to get back at Trina, the sisters embark into the woods that night to kill Trina’s dog. They find an already dead dog and try to pick it up in an attempt to disguise the dog as Trina’s. Although there is blood everywhere, the blood oozing down Ginger’s leg is that of her first period. It is three years late, but it finally came.

The aforementioned period begins a set of compelling parallels linking lycanthropy to puberty. The beast comes out of nowhere and bites Ginger. After running across the road where the werewolf is killed by a van, whose driver is Sam, a boy from school, the wounds begin to heal and the sisters go to sleep. Although perhaps a little too coincidental, the period occurring the same night of the attack, I was willing to look past this flaw simply because it is a supernatural movie with realistic undercurrents. But as the film progresses, Ginger begins to separate herself from Brigitte. She starts wearing more revealing clothes, and catching the eyes of some of the boys in school. Although these changes seem normal in a menstrual cycle, they are actually the phases of her transformation in becoming a werewolf. The idea is both clever and bold. The latter makes Ginger Snaps a study on binary ideals. On the one hand, it is an exclusive into the inner workings of a feminine teenage mind finally blossoming after waiting three years to fully mature. On the other hand, it is a terrific modern day werewolf movie, introducing newcomers to a classic tale never too old to tell. Director Fawcett blends these two ideals beautifully. Ginger passes her werewolf virus to a boy from school through unprotected sex. The latter rings so true to the mass population of teens performing sex without the proper protection against numerous STD’s. Ginger also mentions gender stereotypes. She has sex with the boy and fears being labeled a slut. Although the boy also took part in the act, he will be praised rather than ridiculed. The metaphors are not subtle, but work effectively within the tight narration of the story.

But it is not all about teen angst and adolescent issues. There is a real physical problem here, and now not just one, but two people have been infected with the werewolf disease. The full moon is coming, and Brigitte knows she has to act quickly. In an effort to save her sister, she collaborates with the bold Sam, the only other person in school who knows about the werewolf incident. Ginger, now destroyed by the teen stereotypes, thinks Sam only wants to get into her pants. But Sam, under the notion that Brigitte is infected rather than Ginger, is there to help and manages to discover an antidote for the lycanthropy. First he claims a silver ring would do the trick, so Brigitte pierces Ginger’s belly button. But that proves to be ineffective. Progressively the girls fall into a number of traps, hiding a dead body and searching for monkshood, a plant that can bring about the cure for Ginger and Jason, the boy she infected.

The performances by the two female leads are surprisingly authentic. Emily Perkins is dark and silent as Brigitte. She makes you think back to all the darkly cloaked, gothic type girls that walked every hallway. Depressed, confused, over-reliant on her sister, the real heroine here is complicated, complex, and intriguingly intelligent. Ginger, the older sister, is the feistier of the two. Although in the beginning she is a loner, there are moments before her exploration into the world of lycanthropy that reveals her on-the-edge attitude. Katharine Isabelle gives Ginger the “Snap” that is invoked within the title. She’s not only gorgeous, but a talent that I hope finds more work as the years go on. The supporting work by Kris Lemche as Sam, Mimi Rodgers as the mother, and Jesse Moss as Jason, are all satisfying and complete. No amateur acting as far as I can tell.

Ginger Snaps begins to formulate into a horror, showcased when arriving to its conclusion. Ginger, a fully transformed werewolf, is hiding throughout the house while Brigitte and Sam search for her in an effort to purify the disease. This is the only instance where the low budget gets in the way of telling an effective story. Failing in the special effects department, the werewolf, when shown to its fullest, looks poorly crafted and rushed into completion. The way Fawcett used his camera to hide this flaw in the beginning, depicting the first instance between the girls and the unknown beastly werewolf, was done effectively and with much higher intensity than exhibited in the climactic moments.

However, the latter is only a small quibble and the concluding moments in Ginger Snaps recalls the poignant allegory for puberty. A sisterhood so strongly built is now damaged goods. The concluding segments share a resemblance to the broken innocence that every teen girl feels when going through the first cycle of menstruation. Ginger Snaps deserves its cult following to the tee. Boosting a devastating final shot, director Fawcett, along with screenwriter Walton and the terrific female leads, work tremendous wonders on a very small scale. For those sickened over the lack of insight put into the werewolves in the wildly popular Twilight saga, Ginger Snaps provides for the perfect antidote. Finally, a little comedy to go along with all the teen angst.

Stars (out of four): ***1/2

The Twilight Saga: New Moon

Bella (Kristen Stewart) and Jacob (Taylor Lautner) spend a lot of time together in "The Twilight Saga: New Moon."

(Chris Weitz, 2009)

by Thomas Gatto

As I sat in the theatre watching “The Twilight Saga: New Moon” I kept wishing for Sookie Stackhouse to miraculously pop out onto the screen in some way or fashion. There, we have a complex individual, troubling, emotionally detailed, jolly, and disturbed all at the same time. Yes, she dates Bill, a vampire. The latter goes to show you that vampire romances can be done the right way and appeal to mass audiences. Coming into “New Moon” my expectations were obviously low. This was not like going into the second Potter installment where there was underlying potential waiting to be given the sufficient space to breath. “Twilight,” in a simple sense, was a train wreck. A disappointing outing for acclaimed director Catherine Hardwicke and an ugly spot on Kristen Stewart’s young and quickly growing resume. Rather than retool completely, Summit Entertainment retains Melissa Rosenburg and hires Chris Weitz, director of the mixed bag “The Golden Compass,” to helm the second installment. Plagued by similar elements of the first installment, “New Moon” is a bore of a film. Soap operas are supposed to be fun, aren’t they? Someone forgot to tell that to Stephanie Meyer. Showcasing an uninteresting love triangle and a leading lady that is as bland as bland can be, “New Moon,” despite record breaking box office intakes, is a mess of a film.

Perhaps the best shot sequence is the beginning scene depicting a dream Bella has about her fear of aging. Sparkly vampire aside, it is a well crafted scene, showing that maybe “New Moon” will have some emotional dignity to go with it. Never was I more wrong. Director Weitz shows some humor in the beginning, trying to reveal that not everything has to be joyless and dour like in the first movie. Well, this does not last too long. Bella is dumped by Edward because he wants her to live a normal life without having to worry about aging. She claims the solution to be turning her into a vampire. I cannot recall a single character so ready to throw her humanity away. She has parents and friends, but I guess they don’t seem to matter too much. It’s just very hard to buy into a character willing to change so drastically for a love story so weakly developed. But Edward ignores this notion, and leaves with his family. Bella is depressed, typical teen girly emotions right? Months pass one by one, in a decently shot circular sequence by Weitz. However, Jacob starts to come around, and Bella finds a friend to help her in regaining her unstable emotional state. They build motorcycles and go to the movies. Bella declares, “Your beautiful” as Jacob conveniently takes his shirt off to wipe the blood off the side of Bella’s forehead. She would later call him “Buff!.” Great dialogue right?

Although the vampires left, a new breed of supernatural comes in. Jacob discovers that he is a werewolf. What are the odds? Don’t get me started. Nonetheless, the werewolves do not look as bad in the CGI department as I thought they would be. But their mythology is handled quite embarrassingly. Subplots are tossed aside to invest time in the Bella/Jacob relationship, one that just sits there and never takes off. I asked myself, “What is so attractive about this couple? Or any couple in this saga?” It’s mind boggling. “New Moon” is so badly paced and dull that you are left craving “The Village.” Weitz is so wrapped up in making Bella and Jacob an attractive couple that he forgets to accomplish any sort of narrative or excitement. Once again, it is a cheese fest. There is a scene with Bella and Jacob where they have a so called “deep” conversation. It is set in the clichéd downpour of rain. His shirt is off. They stare at each other and recite poorly written dialogue. Stewart and Lautner are not believable. However, after nearly kissing Jacob in the truck (yep, they have not even kissed yet) Alice comes back to Forks. Much of the movie has heard Bella recite letters in which she sends to Alice via e-mail. She is supposed to be dead according to her vampire vision. But she isn’t. Jacob makes Edward believe Bella is dead after a brief phone call. Victoria (vampire who wants revenge on Bella) is set to kill Bella, Jacob is chasing her away. Bella rushes to Italy without Daddy taking notice in an attempt to save Edward from killing himself. Ok, so finally something is going on.

But “New Moon” has already buried itself by then. The tone is dour and the pacing is too deliberate for its own good. Some criticize “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” because, in a literal sense, not much happens. Those viewers failed to realize the emotional reform Harry resembles throughout the movie. So I have evidence of being patient and looking for certain character moments when the plot is put on the back burner. I can say loud and clear that “New Moon” has close to no redeeming qualities. Kristen Stewart, who seems to be slightly more comfortable here than she was in the first installment, is still rigidity and blinking all the time. Robert Pattinson, who is not in the film a whole lot, mostly playing a pathetic inner voice in Bella’s conscience, is still unable to be judged because he is not given a whole lot to work with. Taylor Lautner does an unintentionally laughable job of imitating a miniature Hulk as Jacob. He brings charisma here and there, but fails in more demanding scenes calling for his acting to be authentic. But then again, the material they have to work with is below average.

The third act confrontation with the Volturi coven, led by Aro (Michael Sheen) and deadly pixie Jane (Dakota Fanning), is disappointingly anticlimactic. Why bring in two big names for mere cameo appearances? Don’t give me that next movie garbage; this movie needed a punch of adrenaline. It never came. “Eclipse” is set to debut in June. Yes, June 2010, nearly 8 months away. Rushing things much? I guess money will make a studio do all sorts of crazy things. Unintentionally funny at times, taking itself to serious, “New Moon” is no better than Hardwicke’s effort in “Twilight.” The lingering question still remains alive and thriving. “Why are all these supernatural beasts so in love with this girl?” After 109 years of living, you’re willing to tell me Edward has never met a girl like Bella Swan? I’ve seen teen soaps do more with similar material then a big budget phenomenon like this has exhibited. The latter is inexcusable. Oh yeah, where was the blood…this is a vampire movie right?

Stars (out of four): *1/2

Twilight

Edward (Robert Pattinson) and Bella (Kristen Stewart) stare at each other for the 200th time in, "Twilight."

(Catherine Hardwicke, 2008)

by Thomas Gatto

As many of you already know by now, the new Twilight installment titled, “The Twilight Saga: New Moon” has premiered to theaters in record numbers. The same was said regarding the first installment titled simply, “Twilight.” It was around the spring of 2008 when I began hearing buzz and strong fan-based reviews covering the “Twilight” novels with endless praise and admiration. It was the most buzzed about fantasy piece since J.K. Rowling introduced the world to a boy wizard by the name of Harry Potter. My experience with the novel did not go too well. Author Stephanie Meyer, although honored by teens around the world, exhibited a writing style both boring and dull. Perhaps my expectations were too high. There just wasn’t much new here. Nevertheless, I had to give credit where credit was due. Meyer successfully reached out to a demographic and achieved celebrity status within a blink of an eye. Her other novel titled “The Host,” is geared more towards young adults, taking place within the science fiction realm. One day I might read that work. Obviously if the book is this successful there has to be a movie, just too much money to be made.

Summit Entertainment acquired the rights to the novel(s), and brought in critically acclaimed director Catherine Hardwicke to direct the first adaption. Her previous work, “Thirteen” and “Lords of Dogtown” were solid projects. In specific, “Thirteen” was a heart breaking dive into the mind and eventual downward spiral of a 13 year old girl. Since “Twilight” focuses on teens, I was very curious to see how Hardwicke would bring an authentic and gritty atmosphere to the world of glittering vampires. But somewhere in her thinking, a bulb went off that suggested to stick close to the source material and play it safe. Try and converge everything in a two hour time span. Screenwriter Melissa Rosenburg, whose credits include writing for the critically acclaimed first season of “The OC” and several episodes for Showtime darling “Dexter,” does just that. You just wish she brought the kind of talent she showed in her other works to the table when watching the unraveling of “Twilight” on the screen. Boosting a young cast and a rather bland source material, “Twilight” fails in a number of ways, but will probably satisfy the targeted demographic of teen girls clamoring for Robert Pattinson’s body.

Seventeen-year-old Isabella “Bella” Swan (Kristen Stewart) moves to Forks, a small town near Washington state’s rugged coast, to live with her father, Charlie, after her mother remarries to a minor league baseball player. She befriends with many students at the school, with one boy clearly having a love-at-first-sight crush on her. Right away the film presents itself with an issue- two to be exact. There are two conflicts that had the chance to be flushed out more. For one, a beautifully crafted rekindling between father and daughter could have made “Twilight” not just a love story with vampirism, but about the bond of family and how every teen needs some sort of adult in their life. Additionally, the feelings of being an outcast or outsider in a new school, a very common problem for teens in a new school, could have been dealt with here. Both conflicts present opportunities for filmmaker Hardwicke to invest her own style, and make “Twilight” an authentic depiction of teenage life. But rather than follow the formula so wonderfully used in “Thirteen,” she stays the course and sticks close to the sappy romance displayed in the novel.

At lunch, Bella spots the Cullen family, a clan that keeps their distance from the rest of the student body. Edward (Robert Pattinson) is introduced in the most teen heart throb sort of way, not subtly or naturally but artificially with the appropriate music and atmosphere. After trying to switch out of her class, Edward finally introduces himself to Bella. They talk in some of the dullest conversations I’ve cared to witness. Eventually, the infamous car accident occurs in the school parking lot where Edward bravely comes to Bella’s rescues. He reveals his power as a vampire to her, but at the hospital tries to rebut from revealing. He claims it was his adrenaline. Now, for a vampire who’s been around since 1918, couldn’t have you come up with something better? Nonetheless, through research and interesting mythological stories told by Jacob Black, a childhood friend of Bella’s, it is discovered that Edward is a vampire. The pair fall in love with one another while snuggling in the woods. No, I’m not kidding, this is what happens. Bella says “I’m not afraid of you…just afraid of losing you.” Edward states, “You’re my life now.” Did I miss something here? I thought it took a couple of months, maybe even a year to address someone like this. They have only been dating for a couple of weeks, although the pacing by Hardwicke may make it feel like a couple of days. Now the fans reading this may claim “It’s a love story and you’re a boy, enough said.” Well, I’m here to inform you that I enjoyed the often labeled cheesy and hammy dialogue in James Cameron’s “Titanic.” There we have a fully developed love story with interesting characters and fully realized conflicts. “Twilight” displays none of this.

However, some of the technical work is brilliant. Aside from a misstep or two, Hardwicke’s shaky cam is an interesting way to approach a rather conventional narrative. The look of the film is dark and Gothic, resembling something you might see in some of the later installments of the “Harry Potter” franchise. But the special effects are severely lacking when needed to be brilliant given the number of failures brought on by the concrete story. Edward running with Bella in the woods comes off as unbelievable and corny, not a target result Hardwicke was hoping for. Also, while Bella gets to know the Cullen family, she is invited to play baseball with them in a traditional ritual they share together. In what might be the most out-of-place sequence I’ve seen in a buzzed about movie in years, the baseball game is endlessly cloaked with slow motion camera work and a poor effort in intensity craftsmanship. It is truly not a sight to see. But then we are introduced to three rouge vampires, still hunting humans for food. They smell Bella and proceed to hunt her. This is “Twilight’s” focal conflict towards its concluding moments. Again, it is not riveting or compelling enough to be warranted as entertaining. Just the same cheese fest over and over.

The effort by the cast is good to note. Kristen Stewart has been blossomed to stardom with this role, but can be put to near the bottom of her resume in terms of quality. She tries to make the best out of what she has, but it is useless. In “Adventureland,” Stewart was a complete revelation, expressing authenticity and relatable qualities all terrific characters have in their arsenals. Other works, like “Into the Wild,” “The Cake Eaters,” and to a lesser extent, “In the Land of Women,” are all instances of work she has done that can be validly labeled as quality. But maybe she is only as good as her script makes her to be. We will see with time. Teen heartthrob Robert Pattinson is satisfying enough as Edward, although his character is a mystery to me. He expresses the same behavior a teen would show, but in actuality he is much, much older than that. Has he not grown up yet after all these years? O’ brother.

This was my second time viewing this. The first time I applauded some of the supporting work and technical triumphs. But a second time viewing experience barely held my attention. But kudos must be given where it is deserved. The films have gobbled tremendous amounts of cash, and have intrigued teen girls to go back to reading books. I have longed said that keeping Rosenburg as screenwriter will forever taint the movie adaption’s, but I believe I am incorrect in saying this. Just looking carefully at the original source material will reveal a hefty amount of flaws and faults within this twist on the vampire genre. With all of the accomplished vampire pieces out there now, like “True Blood,” and “Let the Right One in,” “Twilight” rightfully deserves to be called a poorly crafted, good-looking failure. Thank the gods I’ll be viewing “New Moon” for free.

Stars (out of four): *1/2

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

The lovely couple discusses their relationship in, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button."

(David Fincher, 2008)

by Thomas Gatto

Recurring collaborations between actors and directors usually expresses a sign of success. DiCaprio/Scorsese, Damon/Greengrass, Depp/Burton, Washington/Scott, and Johansson/Allen are all modern day pairings in which have seen success critically, or in the box office. You can officially add Pitt/Fincher to the mix, and somewhere near the top because of their ingenious work behind the emotionally exhausting, fantasy age epic The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Both have shown what they can do outside their pairing, with Fincher’s superbly crafted Zodiac and Pitt’s wide variety of brilliant roles, ranging from the Edward Zwick epic Legends of the Fall to his most recent work in the Coen Bros. hilarious dark comedy Burn After Reading. Having previously worked together on Fight Club and Se7en, this dynamic pair has a three film win streak, and this is one of their best efforts yet.

The story is told in the year 2005, with the haunting Hurricane Katrina just nearing its target in New Orleans. An old women named Daisy (Cate Blanchett), in the hospital with little time to live asks her daughter Caroline (Julia Ormond) to open up a journal in which she hasn’t opened ever before. Caroline begins to read the story of Benjamin Button, a person who had been born under unusual circumstances. Anyone who’s seen the trailer, or is in fact alive knows the epic tale of Benjamin Button, the person who ages backwards. He’s born and abandoned to a young black women named Queenie, played warmly and solidly by Taraji P. Henson. The baby is the actual size of baby, but looks horrendous with wrinkles, etc. Queenie runs a house dedicated to the catering of the elderly, so this seemed like a perfect fit for Benjamin.

From crawling, to walking, to talking, and finally to moving out we see this odd character grow up right before our eyes. While he’s staying at the elderly house he encounters a couple of interesting people. Some are funny, sad, or lonely individuals. By far the most interesting and significant character is that in Daisy, in who Benjamin befriends. Although he appears to be much much older than Daisy, who’s the granddaughter of one of the elders in the catering house, they’re really very close in their youth. While Benjamin and Daisy are the heart of the piece, they’re only together for a brief period of time. While in his teens and twenties, Benjamin survives a WWII attack on his tugboat while Daisy pursues her dream of becoming a dancer.

The direction by Fincher is just incredibly strong, with dazzling visuals and brilliant camera work. While the script by Eric Roth is lacking when compared to Fincher’s direction, it is solid nonetheless. Roth is most famous for writing the screenplay for Forrest Gump, a film I’m not overwhelmed by like the masses that voted it best picture of the year. Unlike Gump, Button is a much more interesting character. Having spent his early years in an old age home, he has seen death time and time again. Throughout most of the picture Button seems content and just fine about his backward aging, and maybe his years with Queenie in the elderly home gave birth to that. He rarely ever crumbles under adversity, and even has confidence to engage in a tiny, but special affair with Elizabeth Abbott, a woman who’s not so much in love with Benjamin but just his peculiar case of aging.

Moving at a gradual pace, the film really starts to peak when Benjamin and Daisy decide to live together in a small duplex. Their relationship, while filled with love and romance, is burdened when Daisy claims she’s pregnant. This is the first telling signs of fatigue by Button, and while he remains in love with Daisy, he knows his daughter is going to need a father, not a playmate. The agonizing pain of nothing lasts forever is brutally depicted throughout this segment of the film. Benjamin Button feels like a life themed film, and how luck, chance, and death are inevitably apart of everybody’s days on earth. There are comedic segments between an elderly man and Benjamin in which entail the man claiming he’d been hit by lighting on numerous accounts. The symbolic representation of the clock, or it’s round shape in comparison to his biological father’s business of buttons all echo back to the films themes and motifs. Furthermore, this is a film focused on an unreal, but fascinating character and not an ordinary character living an unreal life. Maybe this is why I enjoyed this epic so much. My taste in films is not so much in plot, but in characters. Character driven films has always been my sweet tooth in film watching. Last years There Will Be Blood and Into the Wild set their places on my top ten list because they’re character studies on fascinating individuals.

There’s a lot more going on here than what I have stated in this review. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a near three hour film, and perhaps this puts a tiny wrinkle in what is an exceptional fantastical romance epic. It’s not as engaging as Fincher’s crime drama Zodiac, but to compare every film he does with the latter seems unfair and unreal. Whether it’s the complex characters, the fantastical journey, the themes on life and death, the moving music, or the top notch performances by Pitt and Blanchett, it’s almost impossible not to enjoy The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

Stars (out of four): ***1/2

The House of the Devil

Samantha (Jocelin Donahue) gets bloody in "The House of the Devil."

(Ti West, 2009)

by Thomas Gatto

At the beginning of the year I expressed my hatred and disgust for the displeasing re-imagining of the cult horror film “Friday the 13^th.” In that review, I expressed my negative views towards Platinum Dunes and their never-ending decisions to remake classic slasher films. Although I am a solid believer in the philosophy that no matter how atrocious the remake is, the original film will always sustain its rightful position with me. I also believe the majority agrees with me, just take a look at Rob Zombie’s “Halloween.” The latter unjustifiably humanizes Michael Myers, perhaps one of the worst decisions made regarding a major iconic figure in the horror realm in years, and Carpenter’s classic still remains as demanded viewing every Halloween. Luckily, 2009 has had three films that strike new energy into the genre, displaying filmmakers that undeniably love the genre, or just plain know how to scare and build tension throughout scenes. The leader of the pack is Lars von Trier’s “Antichrist,” a controversial film that divided audiences but held me at awe throughout all of its run time. “Trick r’ Treat,” the film held in development hell for nearly two years, is maybe the best project regarding the tradition of Halloween and its various rules and regulations. The third film, although the weakest of the three, is the Ti West horror/thriller “The House of the Devil.” A perfectly crafted homage to the late 70’s, early 80’s, “The House of the Devil,” although slightly disappointing in its overall payoff, is a patiently, suspenseful film that puts heavy investments in the common saying; “it’s not the end, it’s the journey.”

Withholding a beginning screen of text hinting at the film’s satanic suggestions, “The House of the Devil” begins as an ordinary slice-of-life depicting a college school girl scrounging for cash. Her name is Samantha, and she wants to move out of the dorms in her school and reside in an apartment. But she needs cash as soon as possible. On the activity board on her campus, Samantha calls a number for a babysitting job. There is no answer at first, but she is called back immediately via pay phone. Strange isn’t it? You haven’t seen anything yet. With the help of her ditzy friend Megan, the two girls go forth to the house where Samantha is set to baby-sit. But little does she know about the terrifying secret her client’s possess, one that talented director Ti West endlessly builds with foreboding suspense, terrifying tonal atmosphere, and impressive characterizations and performances.

The most telling aspect regarding this film is its look. Although made in 2009, if viewed completely blinded, you may say it was made in the 1980’s. The opening credits are a pitch-perfect ode to a beloved time period, scored with intelligence and eerie dread by Jeff Grace, utilizing a delightfully frightening synthesizer. The fashion and set pieces are also consistent here, giving the viewer a terrific image of a past time forgotten by most but famously critiqued by horror pro Wes Craven in his “Scream” trilogy. However, director Ti West does not stop with simply making a good-looking movie, he’s a real filmmaker- he knows how to build two-dimensional characters. A wholly likable protagonist, Samantha is given heart and dignity by new comer Jocelin Donahue. She literally carries this piece, embedded in nearly every scene except for maybe one. A regular college girl looking for money, a mature young adult not looking for sexual encounters left and right, and resembling behavioral objectives that consist of being a good friend and a helpful companion sums up a nearly faultless character. Not a target for Satanism in the least. However, her one and only fall, asking for 400 dollars when revealed by the strange, old-aged client Mr. Ulman that there are no kids to baby-sit but only his ill mother casts a grim shadow that eventually catches up to our beloved Samantha.

The on-goings in “The House of the Devil” when Samantha and Megan arrive to the house are truly a sparkle to see. The weird clients, played creepily by veterans Tom Noonan and Mary Woronov are effective and enhance the building intensity of the mood. Best friend Megan, played with surprising authenticity by Greta Gerwig displays mostly rude and ditzy behavior, but loyal and necessarily worried when the moment calls her to be. Not a one-dimensional character in the least. While waiting for her best friend to return to the house, a conflict I won’t dare give away here, Samantha walks around the Ulman house, exploring rooms and sections that any other babysitter would do when worried about whereabouts of a close friend. Where many mainstream fans will quickly denounce the films effectiveness is where the more passionate, patient audience member will inevitably praise it. Waiting for a pizza man to arrive, listening to music and dancing around the house, exploring the large area of house, hearing strange noises, watching TV, and anticipating a solar eclipse all inhabit a middle section meaty with technical triumphs and suspenseful prizes. The camera work, putting you into this house as another character, as well as putting you in other scenes throughout, is maybe the best I’ve seen this side of Quentin Tarantino in “Inglorious Basterds.” This is truly an impressive piece of directorial work indeed.

But this may be the eventual downfall of the audacious ode to a past time. With a naturally dialectic script and directorial techniques that are nearly second to none, the climax that eventually is handed to us is satisfactory, showing moments of brilliance but perhaps a little too short for its own good. Not giving much away, “The House of the Devil” borrows from films like “The Exorcist” when traveling down its conclusion. Is it effective? Sure, but not on the same level of effectiveness in the journey it took to get there. West seems to have dug his own hole with the brilliance of his pacing and development, so good and authentic that a mediocre climax will come off as almost poor or degrading. I appreciated the hints of ambiguity, but there is a moment where a certain character does a certain action that I truly failed to buy into. I understood why she did it, but West fails to spend enough time developing this on-going to make it plausible. If he put as much love and passion in his climax as he did in his building process, “The House of the Devil” could have been the best horror beast since Neil Marshall’s crusade into the caves in “The Descent.”

Will “The House of the Devil” hold up on second and third viewings? I’m not too sure. I think the technical elements of the film overshadows the finished product. For audiences looking for impressive camera work, good-looking set-pieces, and impressive characterizations will find a gem-of-a-film in this exercise in Hitchcockian suspense so often forgotten in numerous horror productions. However, for viewers looking for a story that is new, ambitious, and debatable, I advise you to search for this years “Antichrist,” but with great caution of course.

Stars (out of four): ***

Antichrist

She (Charlotte Gainsburg) sits around ominously in "Antichrist."

(Lars von Trier, 2009)

by Thomas Gatto

Lars von Trier has not exactly been the ideal director to find likable qualities in. He has been accused of putting stake in misogyny, and putting his cast through excruciating experiences while filming his works. He has also dubbed himself the best director of all time. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending upon your feelings toward this director’s style of filming, I have never seen any of his previous efforts. I meant to catch the Nicole Kidman vehicle “Dogville” but with classes becoming more hectic and time consuming, my Netflix queue has not really seen much shrinkage in the past month or so. Overlooking his resume, nearly all of his films have been received with a mixed hand. For every one critic that called “Dancer in the Dark” a musical triumph, there was another to tout it as pretentious, self-indulgent, and too experimental for its own good. Doing my own research on the particular auteur, “Antichrist” is universally seen as a departure of sorts for von Trier. Usually his films focus on Anti-American notions and substituting set sound stages for immense movie sets. If you have read anything about “Antichrist” you would already know the controversial buzz that has been swarming around the release regarding the explicit psychosexual content, and the shocking actions leading lady Charlotte Gainsbourg puts on herself in the films chaotically charged second half. Although “Antichrist” may not be for some- perhaps unsuitable for most, there will be one or two in a mainstream crowd that will appreciate the artistry and craftsmanship of a work like the one exhibited by von Trier here. You can count me in the latter.

Right away von Trier lets the audience know that he will be placing you in a no-holds-bar type of atmosphere. The film is divided into six parts; a Prologue, four chapters entitled “Grief”, “Pain (Chaos Reigns)”, “Despair (Gynocide)” and “The Three Beggars”, along with an Epilogue. The Prologue is filmed in black and white, paced in slow motion sequence and scored to the beautiful aria “Lascia ch’io pianga” from Georg Friedrich Handel’s opera “Rinaldo.” Although some may label it self-indulgent, I found what I was watching a stunning sequence of events. While a couple is having sex with the baby monitor turned off, their child crawls out of a window and falls to his doom. Von Trier films the sex sequence in full form, showing the penetration in clear and concise fashion. Was it necessary? On some levels, it prepares the viewer for what he/she will be getting themselves into. On the other hand, it probably could have been done without, getting the full effect of the sequence without having to watch the deep sexual drive the two embark on. As for me, with or without the explicitness, the sequence is a sight to behold. Before an initial viewing of the film I thought I would be seeing a disgusting, vial, piece-of-cinematic torture porn much in the vein of “Hostel” and “Saw.” While the film would later wander into those territories, most of its first half is devoted to building tension and suspension, providing a beautiful gothic canvas for von Trier’s artistry work, and developing a conflict that will be eradicated and explicated through the stages of grief.

Charlotte Gainsbourg and William Dafoe play “She” and “He,” respectably. They are the only two cast member listed in the credits. After their child dies, She has been experiencing intense feelings of grief. It is obvious that she feels an immense amount of guilt for her child’s death. He, on the other hand, is a therapist who takes an interest in treating her himself. He knows it is unethical and probably inappropriate, but he states that “no other therapist knows you like I would.” Through various breathing techniques and experimental emotional trial runs, Dafoe’s He tries to help his wife endlessly. He asks her where her greatest fears lie, and she claims the woods. Although at first confused, as it was her that decided to take their child to the cabin ironically titled “Eden” with her to write her thesis last year, He figures it would be best to go to the woods and face her problems head on. They travel together to the secluded cabin, where after a little while; the film takes a drastic turn-of-events into the realms of psychodrama, misogyny, witchcraft, religious undertones, abusive behavior, patriarchy, and deep philosophical symbolism. It seems as if von Trier took all of these elements (and probably more I have not listed), put them in a blender, chaotically brushed them onto the film, and carefully glazed it over with superb acting and some of the best cinematography you will see all year (compliments to Anthony Dod Mantle who made “Slumdog Millionaire” the great looking movie it is).

Are all of these ideas and thoughts processed well on the screen? Perhaps not, but I found it so thought-provoking, intriguing, compelling, suspenseful, interesting, ambitious, and unique that I was enthralled with this beast from start to finish. It is similar to my experience with experimental films like “Mulholland Drive” and “Donnie Darko.” Although the two latter masterworks are undeniably difficult to comprehend or make sense of on a first time viewing, I deeply appreciated all of the artistry and craftsmanship that went into bringing these innovative projects to life. Additionally, while von Trier works his way towards a second half filled with gore and gruesome bloodshed, he continually raises the bar on the mood and tone of the picture.

“Antichrist” is not a traditional horror film where things pop out at the screen in ridiculous and clichéd ways. This is an exercise in mood and tonal craftsmanship. The breathing and experimental emotional techniques used throughout the first half are extremely intense, and qualify for further viewing. There are two instances where He has to help She with her breathing routines. The latter is, for starters, well acted, and perhaps insinuates He’s continual progress to make She reborn in some fashion. One of the smaller conflicts tackled in “Antichrist” is Therapist procedures vs. the natural order of human nature. Von Trier has stated that he was depressed when he wrote and directed this film, and his therapist character could be seen as a commentary on the medical practices he might have experienced or thought about while undergoing his depressed state-of-mind. But again, this is a small conflict in a film filled with many conflicts.

What many critics and audiences have responded to are the performances. This is probably the one single element nearly all viewers will agree on. William Dafoe plays an arrogant man, one who probably cares for his wife naturally but regretfully neglected their family while the child was alive. Although as great as Dafoe is, it really is Charlotte Gainsburg as She who takes the picture into new directions. I’ve read literature that claim von Trier films have always invested an emotional and tiring burden on its female cast. I can clearly see evidence to support this theory in “Antichrist.” She’s devastatingly believable as a mother who is grieving and entirely authentic when her role is switched to display almost the complete opposite of what her character called for in the earlier segments. It’s a performance that has every right, privilege, and license to be nominated for an Academy Award, but there isn’t a thought in my mind that will defend the Academy’s ideology in choosing the safer picture over the more ambitious works.

At the risk of giving too much away, not everything appears as it seems. What looks to be a grieving couple longing over the loss of a child is soon removed from the film’s focal stress point. Devices such as the child’s autopsy report and the unfinished thesis of a year ago on misogyny are all brought to the table in von Trier’s second half. A scene that triggers the dark events to follow proclaims Dafoe’s He as having weird dreams. There is a scene involving a talking fox, three animals consisting of; a deer and its stillborn calf, a self-cannibalizing fox, and a buried black crow that refuses to die. All three are insinuated as “The Three Beggars.” Perhaps guardians for this hell hole, in which She declares “nature is Satan’s church,” the three animals play integral roles in the eventual downfall of the couple. Obviously done on purpose, von Trier drenches much of his second half in ambiguity. Sometimes this can be done the wrong way. For instance, David Lynch’s most recent work “Inland Empire,” is so muddled and wrapped in its own cognitive world that we as the viewers, cannot cohesively make much of anything that was put forth onto the screen. While some may believe this philosophy can be applied to “Antichrist” it is my fairly firm belief that this film indefinitely had a thesis behind it. What is it to be exact? Well, I’m not here to explain that, although the inner film student in me (I’m really not one, but I like to think I am) would love to share some type of interpretation to strike engagement in viewing this NC-17 film.

Contrasting in casting an interpretation of the film, I can simply tell you that if you watch this with a buddy who is into art house productions or strange movie experiences as much as you are, you will be endlessly debating the overall meaning and ideology behind the film. But reviewing a film is to answer the age old question; was it any good? This particular reviewer thoroughly enjoyed most of what he saw displayed on the screen. It poses fascinating questions regarding nature and its exchanges with religious and psychotherapeutic theories, regardless of whether he was offended or shocked by the three minutes of indefensible gore that von Trier chose to eradicate from his arsenal. To sum this up, “Antichrist” appears to be a poetic study on a couple grieving over the loss of a child. However, explicated in its second half, the film dives into the nature of women, the battle of good vs. evil, the symbolic rebirth of man, the aforementioned conflict between Therapy and the natural order of human nature, the burdens one carries when processing grief, and the battles we face when confronted by psychological disorders. The ending is one that see’s a reverse in ideology for a certain character, and an occurrence that will probably have endless interpretations and contexts. Could I have asked for more?

Stars (out of four): ****

Revolutionary Road

Frank and April share a rare, but tender moment in "Revolutionary Road."

(Sam Mendes, 2008)

by Thomas Gatto

In recent years, struggling marriages has transformed into a plot device that grandly entertains the masses. John Curran’s “We Don’t Live Here Anymore” and David Gordon Green’s “Snow Angels” heavily focus on relationships and the adversity that comes with it. AMC’s award winning series “Mad Men” probably has the most in common with “Revolutionary Road” than any of the other films I mentioned or will mention later on. Mendes saw a great opportunity to adapt a classic literature piece, tackle an issue that won him the Oscar in the form of “American Beauty,” and provide a setting in which critics and fans have already come accustomed to. It’s also hard to ignore the on screen couple in Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet, the first time they’ve been on screen since the blockbuster drama “Titanic,” in which have the ladies hooked on the idea of a sweet romantic tale between one of Hollywood’s most popular on-screen couples. If women, or anyone for that matter thinks this is a sweet tale then go home because Mendes has crafted a Shakespearean tragedy laced in 1950’s suburbia America.

The Wheeler’s seem to be like any other couple living in a Connecticut suburb. They have two kids, with Frank Wheeler (DiCaprio) working in a cubicle while April Wheeler (Winslet) stays home and sits the children. What separates the often doomed couple is their awareness of it all. April starts to reminisce about the beginning years of their marriage, and how Frank claimed how Paris was the only place where people really felt “alive.” With Frank’s savings and April’s opportunity to work for big wages in Europe doing secretary work, the Wheeler’s find themselves packing up and planning a family move to Paris. This would allow Frank to find himself and what occupation he really wants to pursue, without the pressure of significantly providing for a family. While the couple seems extremely pleased with the idea, both Frank and April hold secrets from each other that can prevent them from moving, ultimately casting a grim shadow over the entire production and the deliberately paced story.

At the core of the matter, “Revolutionary Road” can be seen as a showcase vehicle for the powerhouse performances from DiCaprio and Winslet. We have seen the plot a number of times, with Matthew Weiner’s Mad Men being the most recent example. This doesn’t necessarily mean the film was boring, because it infinitely entertained me for the near two hour time run. The interactions and exchanges between DiCaprio and Winslet keep things interesting and thought provoking, while simultaneously providing solid supporting characters. Kathy Bates, reuniting with her “Titanic” teammates turns in a good performance as Helen Givings, the community gossip queen while Kathryn Hahn turns in a terrific portrayal as Milly, the friendly neighbor living beside the Wheeler’s. Both characters bought into the lifestyle the Wheeler’s are trying to stray away from, in which marks the grand performance by Michael Shannon, the Givings’ son whose been labeled mentally ill by his parents for exposing the boring and hopeless lifestyle of the “American Dream.” Mendes makes good use of irony throughout “Revolutionary Road,” with Shannon being labeled as mentally ill but the only person in the community with his head on his shoulders with only April recognizing the potential behind his claims.

Irony is superbly applied to the downward spiral of Frank. DiCaprio really nails this performance and probably gives his most powerful acting piece here. The guilt, anger, loneliness, and doubt of Frank is masterfully embedded in the performance, with every facial expression providing a different layer to the character. He’s the one who crafted Paris as a utopia, but distances himself away from the idea of moving there with the pressure of filling his father shoes in the workplace, taking care of a family, and endlessly executing an emotionless affair with a new secretary at work. Winslet is equally impressive as April, showing the world why she’s undoubtedly one of the best actresses in the business today. She switches from angry to happy to frustrated to guilty all with a flick of a switch. Much like her better half, April is troubled by a rather routine secret, a failed acting career, and the path Frank seems to be heading towards. It’s tough to establish who the hero or the villain is in this tale. Their are multiple assumptions, in which can entail; Frank as the villain, with April the victim, the suburbia lifestyle as the villain while the Wheeler’s the victim, or just plainly there are no villains or heroes but just a simple drop-in on a marriage powered by arguments, adversity, and goals labeled too unrealistic to be pursued.

Oddly enough, the Wheelers are often admired by the entire community, another example of irony being excercised by Mendes. Theirs a scene in which shows Milly’s husband (David Harbour) giving a prolonged, gaze look at the Wheeler’s house next door. Such a simple scene speaks great volumes about how couples, undeniably stretching to today seem to act completely different around other people. Fake marital success and love relations are explored in Revolutionary Road, lacing the element of irony with every powerful scene throughout the concoction. The reactions by the supporting characters, with the exception of the Givings’ so called ill son are all negative. Their expressions say, “Wait, you can’t leave, your our friends, you can’t leave us alone here in this miserable place!” All of these characters have been swallowed by this lifestyle, with the Wheeler’s trying to endlessly run from this boring, dreadful, but ironically labeled the “American Dream” way of living.

“Revolutionary Road” borders on masterpiece level, an autopsy on a doomed marriage from beginning to end. The film’s conclusion, which seems to be the main point of negative reviews by various critics, is really the only quibble keeping Mende’s fourth film from becoming a true American masterpiece. Perhaps if he decided to shave the last ten minutes or so off from the production this would’ve been my absolute favorite film 2008. It dives into territory that seems to be unnecessary and a tad forced. With that being said, “Rev Road” is still one of the best films of last year, in which should have seen a collection of Oscar nominations for Justin Haythe’s screenplay, and the two transcendent performances from DiCaprio and Winslet.

Stars (out of four): ***1/2