Showing posts with label Michelle Williams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michelle Williams. Show all posts

December 22, 2016

Manchester by the Sea

Kenneth Lonergan, 2016
4/5
Any New Englander is going to feel a sense of familiarity to Manchester by the Sea. It's a movie filled with characters constantly battling the cold temperatures, something we are all used to dealing with in the Northeast. But these characters, while possibly making the mistake of dressing a little too lightly, are tough people. They have endured. There is a sense of resilience. These are working class people who are dealing with the difficulties of ordinary life. Loss of a loved one, past mistakes, struggling to make that next dollar.

Casey Affleck is a proper casting choice for the Lee Chandler character because he's not a very external actor. Lee is not a very external character. Lee bottles things up. He carries the weight of his past on his back. The only release for him is the occasional bar-fight that can be provoked by something as simple as accidentally bumping into him. So it's safe to say he's a man on edge. He becomes a profoundly sympathetic character when more of his past is revealed during the films constant flashbacks. There's just so much nuance to his character, along with the other characters in this film. Kyle Chandler, who plays Lee's brother Joe, brings the same level of consistency that he always brings. Chandler is really one of those actors that is always just dependable. Michelle Williams continues to prove how unbelievably good she is. She has this ability to pull a reaction out of you with little dialogue. She's all in with her supporting performance as Randi Chandler. The standout scene with her being an alleyway confrontation with Lee that dares you to not tear up.

This is a movie where you can't point fingers. Everyone is struggling in some way or another, just like normal folk do. There is a defining turning point in the tone of this film that you never fully recover from, even after the end credits. That's why it takes such an emotional toll on you. Because this is a real movie, maybe too real. You aren't spoon-fed a Hollywood ending here. This film ends just like life goes on. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don't, sometimes it's neither. Sometimes things just keep on keeping on. You just continue to exist in the world, with no choice but to carry the entirety of your history with you.

March 14, 2015

Synecdoche, New York

Charlie Kaufman, 2008

5/5
This is one of those films that after you process, it, it changes you. You want to tell your other movie-lover friends to go see it so you can gauge their reaction. They ask you “what’s it about?”. That’s the challenging task. “Okay, so it’s about a struggling playwright played by Philip Seymour Hoffman”. They reply “That’s it? That sounds kind of boring”. Your brain rattles, trying to come up with a better way to describe the film. “Okay, so it’s about a struggling playwright who works on an ambitious project after getting substantial funding and is able to recreate a miniature New York inside a massive warehouse that he purchases”. Closer. More descriptive, but no, that’s still not it. Maybe this is just another one of those films that you say “Just go see it.”

Synecdoche is one of those films sort of difficult to really discuss upon first viewing. It almost demands rewatching. The attention to detail, the exhausting carefulness that Kaufman clearly puts into his film. It’s one of those films that after looking back on it a few days later, there’s a dream-like quality to it. There is lingering imagery. Life and death. The fear of death, the neverending clinging to one’s mortality. Hypocondria, paranoia of being ill or falling ill. Parental pressures, the fear of losing your family or struggling to live without your family by your side. Career insecurities, self-doubt on the creative level. It’s also an examination of the American marriage, or at least a focus on a fading relationship. Complacency, marital boredom. Love lost, wandering eyes, jealousy. Kaufman is a genius when it comes to taking everyday life and completely manipulating it. Sometimes he is just toying with it slightly, with a minor hallucination. At others he is bending the world in different shapes and forms. He is an artist with a lot to say, and there’s not enough room in the massive warehouse to store it all. Hoffman’s Caden character is one of the more complex characters to come out of 21st century cinema. As he seems to grow more and more disconnected from reality, his artificial world seems to grow more elaborate. There are certainly people out there who will watch a film like this and pick it apart. It’s a complicated film. At times probably over-complicated. But that’s sort of what Kaufman has done with his screenwriting, so why would he not do the same thing while sitting in the directors’ chair? Nobody but Kaufman could conceivably make a movie quite like Synecdoche. He turns parts of upstate New York and New York City into an urban mind-field. The final result is some kind of surreal hybrid of Vanilla Sky, Being John Malkovich and Adaptation. And who wouldn’t want that?

June 30, 2014

Meek's Cutoff

Kelly Reichardt, 2010
2/5
Set in 1845, a group travels across the Oregon country under the guidance of a man named Stephen Meek. Meek promises to guide them through what he believes is a shortcut over the Cascade Mountains. Their doubts grow as they continue to travel in what seems like endless country with food and water running low. When they encounter a Native American in their journey, they are torn between the guidance of Meek and the guidance of the man widely thought to be threatening to settlers.

Reichardt's Oregon Trail-based period piece focuses on the survival of a group across a very desolate landscape. Scattered clusters of dry grass across the cracked earth. The intermittent sight of copper boulders that provide a small sliver of hope that there may be something bounteous on the other side, only to soon find that it's just one of many disappointments across the steppes. Very unforgiving. While the group moves across the harsh terrain, there is a common theme at work: uncertainty. Uncertainty is a dominant motif at work here. They don't know if they can necessarily count on Meek to bring them to their destination. They are certainly losing faith in him. They aren't sure how close they are to finding water, food. In fact, they don't even know if they will drink any water tomorrow. Because of this, they aren't even certain of how long they will be able to maintain the same company. They aren't certain that the cattle or the wagons will persevere. The wooden barrels roped to the sides of the wagons are running dry like their morale. They don't know if their recent "companion" to join the group is going to be helpful, or dangerous. As the wheels turn on the rickety wagon, the wheels turn in their minds. They tread on, continuing forward. Because they have no other choice. The uneventful days turn to black nights, consisting of Emily scraping together some supplies for some minimal calories.

Unfortunately the story maintains synchronicity in terms of the crawling pace that the group upholds. Devoid of any real bursts, you are left in the company of a fairly two-dimensional group of people who don't ever really pull you in and keep you fully concerned. To their credit, their struggles feel realistic and their fortitude is inspiring. But like them, your thirst builds to the point of pure exhaustion. It's betraying when the score builds in the background, only to have that particular moment deflate and transition to a long shot of the two wagons continuing slowly across the empty plain. It's a bold piece of work for Reichardt in terms of a filmmaker attempting to make something with very little. Sadly that it's just not enough.

March 23, 2014

The Station Agent

Thomas McCarthy, 2003
2/5
Fin (Peter Dinklage) is a train enthusiast who was born with dwarfism. When his friend dies and the train shop closes, he decides to relocate to the property he inherited to live a life in isolation.

McCarthy succeeds in drawing the sympathy early. Fin's world in Hoboken is an unforgiving one. He is laughed at by the children in the streets, pointed at by the people in the grocery store. When his friend passes, you can't blame him for wanting to get the hell out of the hell he is living in. The only thing that Hoboken had to offer was a job and a companion. Both of those are gone. He hasn't even seen the small bit of land he inherits but assumes it's an upgrade from the status quo. The backdrop of the run-down rail-yards and miles of power lines doesn't necessarily paint a warm landscape. Fin is a man who has been faced with adversity all of his life but also struggles with geographical limitations. Getting through his days are work, not because of physical limitations but because of the world around him. He appears to be on the edge of complete surrender by the time that he walks to Newfoundland. He's convinced that the one genuine person has died, and there's not another one left in the world. When he arrives in the small town, the ridicule is diminished but still present. When the friendly souls surface, it almost feels as if he is the one who passed and he is in some kind of strange afterlife. The film has a certain mythical quality to it in that sense. Food truck Joe is too friendly, to the point of being disconcerting. This works against his character too, because he truly seems like a person of unlimited patience and persistence. While McCarthy's simple story is earnest, at times it feels like it's dragging. While Dinklage is clearly a talented actor and provides a layered performance, when he finally opens up to Joe and Olivia he doesn't lay a lot out there. That's disappointing because the film  is really a character study, built for Fin. He succeeds in constructing the beaten man, but fails at showing us a man who has truly opened up even though the story forces him to. Not that he needed to make an embellished character arch with a happily-ever-after conclusion, it would have been nice to see Fin truly conquer something within himself, rather than just crack a smile.