We'll Stick Together Forever, Stay Sick Together, Be Crazy Forever

The Informant! (Soderbergh, 2009)

So Steven Soderbergh has already made one of the year's most interesting films in the form of The Girlfriend Experience, and now he has returned with a more mainstream entry in his yarn about Mark Whitacre, famous corporate whistle blower. Starring Matt Damon as the lead, my excitement for the film was fairly high since, recently, I have been a fan of both Damon's and Soderbergh's work. However, the trailer told me that it the film would visually be in a style similar to his underwhelming Out of Sight. So I went in with little knowledge about the story, slightly hesitant that I would be in for something fairly light and comedic, and hoping to see one of the year's best films. In many ways none of those thoughts remained constant for very long after the film started rolling across the screen.

The Informant! is in no way a bad film, but these is certainly something off-putting about the whole affair, though I have to be slightly wary that, at least to an extent, much of that style is by Soderbergh's own craft. The score and style, both carefree and highly polished, are completely at odds with the incredibly dark overtones in the film's narrative such as the severity of the price fixing and, ultimately, the motivations for the Whitacre character. Unsettling is likely a more proper word used to describe my time with the film as even the casting choices are apparently meant to be at odds with viewer expectations. Matt Damon, a man I have known mostly as a 'serious' actor, easily slides into a comedic role while known comedians like Joel McHale and Tony Hale are given so little comedy to work with during the entire film. Perhaps Soderbergh wants the audience to make note of the foolish business practices and government actions through the supporting cast while still reminding the audience of the sincerity of the Whitacre character despite the surface comedy. Whatever his intention, he is clearly toying with preconceived ideas, which he also did in Out of Sight to similar success.

So I suppose the question is does the comedy work and, ultimately, is does the film succeed as a unique telling of this fascinating tale? The answer is not incredibly simple. While the comedy is usually not overt, Damon brings everything he can muster to the character and the dialogue, while a bit overt in some places and rather subtle in others, is simply superb. However, the film does not really have many big laughs, but the film does not really seem to be a straight comedy in the same sense that something like I Love You, Man attempts to exist as a comedy. The more apt comparison, as far as I am concerned, is to Observe and Report. While the audience may laugh with Damon, or perhaps even at him, I think the comedy, to an extent, comes to the hypocritical nature of man in addition to the constant idea to plan and progress. The film, in many ways, is about Whitacre's unraveling, but also about simply presenting the good and the bad, the serious and the comedic, aspects of the man. Nothing in the film is a definite, and I think Soderbergh does a nice job of presenting that idea through the portrayal of the Whitacre character and the constantly conflicting styles.

Ultimately, The Informant! is another interesting experiment from a director who, like one of my personal favorite filmmakers, Gus Van Sant, has a knack for bringing his own definitive perspective to even the most mainstream and conventional of films. Soderbergh does not hit this one out of the park in the same way that he does with The Girlfriend Experience, but he crafts a film that is a fun enough ride the first time through and probably will benefit from a second viewing. I have compared the film to Out of Sight throughout most of this review, and I will continue to do so here. Like Out of Sight, Soderbergh takes an interesting cast, anchors it with a fantastic lead performance, throws in an engaging story, adds a dose of flashy camera moves, a spiffy soundtrack, and toys with audience expectations to make an entertaining product that, like Out of Sight, does little more than serve as a mildly amusing way to spend a couple hours.

B-/B or 3.47483295634275163924561439

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

I Wish You Could Swim Like The Dolphins, Like Dolphins Can Swim

The Cove (Psihoyos, 2009)

While I would not consider myself very well versed in documentary film making, I do have an interest in these types of films and, when one builds buzz like The Cove, I feel compelled to do everything in my power to check out these types of films. Luckily, The Cove opened at a local theatre this week and I did not have to go incredibly far out of my way to see the film. The power of a documentary is something that few other films, or even many other artistic mediums, can effectively wield because, quite obviously, a documentary has the advantage of, at least to an extent, presenting life in its purest form. I knew little of the material that would be covered, only that dolphins in Japan were a focus, so I was hardly prepared for what I was about to witness.

About a year after the mesmerizing, and Academy Award Winning, doc, Man on Wire, The Cove begins to set up as a documentary that draws influence from various styles of film, most notably espionage films. While The Cove has far fewer constructed sequences than Man on Wire, the comparisons to these genre films are still incredibly warranted because, even without the construction, the entire film is practically an adrenaline rush of social and political intrigue that had me riveted from beginning until end. The action sequences here, and by action I mean the car tailings, the cop stuff, and the actual infiltration, are all nicely handled and enhanced by one of the best scores of the year. The film is surprisingly suspenseful for the type of film that it is and, quite masterfully, never skips a beat in terms of narrative, which is and of itself an impressive characteristic in any type of film, let alone a documentary.

Of course the film also succeeds as a standard documentary as well. The interviews all serve the film's purpose, the examination is immediately identified and builds throughout, and the whole thing advertises a payoff that, unlike in other docs, hits incredibly hard. For example, the film goes about humanizing the dolphins incredibly effectively. However, to say that the film is simply about dolphins is misleading, as Food, Inc, as well as other older documentaries, has chronicled an abusive industry. No, the tragedy of The Cove is elevated by the dolphin trade, but the actual sadness is in the exposure of government policy, the corruption of power, and the countless victims that will result in the future, all of which the film covers nicely. These aspects are all universal, and I would argue that every individual a part of at least once, usually for extended portions of time. The struggle is tragically heartbreaking and seems to be overlooked in favor of the film's more overt material.

SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT...I reckon. I mean the trailer kind of spoils it, and I have made references earlier. Still, spoilers.

Still, I do not mean to lessen the effect of the dolphin killings on screen, as the film serves wonderfully as a call to arms for that particular cause as well. The entire film's intrigue is built on seeing the inside of this cove, and once the film really starts to drive at that things start to pick up immensely. And of course that all leads to the hidden cameras in the cove, and the final fifteen minutes of the film, which also happen to be the best fifteen minutes or so of the year in cinema thus far. Soul shatteringly gruesome, the massacre of these dolphins is shown in full force, capped off by the greatest shot of the year, a cove where the water has gone completely red. The film then starts to wrap things up in grandiose fashion. One interview we have been seeing throughout the entire film is revealed to have taken place after the discovery of the footage, as O'Barry, after just being shot down with "I told you, we are not going to talk about what ifs," pulls out a camera and asks the man to take a look at some footage. Sure it's not very professional, I guess, but it's such a satisfying conclusion, you just want the man to be confronted with this evidence. And his reaction is priceless. Cue the reveal at the IWC, the final monologue, the obligatory call to arms, and then the mesmerizing introduction of David Bowie's "Heroes" as the credits start to roll.

It started during that hidden camera sequence, but by this point I had been effectively bowled over. I recall getting upset over films, I recall weeping after seeing George Washington, but until watching The Cove I had never broken down in tears in a movie theater. The political implications I talked about earlier, mixed with the chilling score and the scenes of the red water left me practically immobile. Does the film have some flaws as a documentary? Probably, as there are one or two points that really do not go very far. Does The Cove present all the facts? I don't really know. However, as I finally worked up the strength to leave the theater and began stumbling my way to the car before breaking down again, I was practically positive that The Cove is nothing short of one of, if not definitively, the best films of the year so far.

A+ or 4.9128934721842374230174

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

Meet The New Boss, Same As The Old Boss

Ikiru (To Live) (Kurosawa, 1952)

The Kurosawa marathon continues with the 1952 film Ikiru (To Live). Now because I know little about Kurosawa outside of what I saw in Rashomon I have to wonder if this film is any indication of what types of films are to come in the future from the acclaimed director. Sure Rashomon started getting all philosophical at the end, but Ikiru starts things off with a metaphoric bang as we quickly learn the circumstances and are introduced to our protagonist. Given the film's description on the Netflix packet I had little idea of what the film would consist of aside from a man trying to build a park, but little did I know just how deceptive such a description is in the film's larger context.

Speaking of larger context let's start pretty broad and begin narrowing things down from there. Kurosawa turns in another fantastic effort behind the camera and, in some ways even more than Rashomon, makes for a visually compelling film. Seeing how differently he handles shots in a larger and congested city as opposed to the tangled forests was interesting and really gave the film its own stylistic feel while keeping with elements that are quickly becoming Kurosawa trademarks. Once again seeing the influence that the man has had on future films is near unmistakable when watching Ikiru, but in some ways I almost felt that, as far as direction is concerned, Rashomon is just slightly stronger. However, every time I thought this we would get sequences like the playground one or the one in the bar early on. In other words, the film looks pretty damn beautiful.

So now we'll get a little more concise and focus on the acting. While the film is littered with a ton of really good performances throughout, the anchor, as the script demands, must be Watanabe. Thankfully, Takashi Shimura turns in a top notch performance that hits all of the right notes. Even if the script was horrible, the direction terrible, and the other actors particularly dreadful, I am completely confident that Shimura's performance alone would make for compelling cinema. Obviously none of that is the case though and all the surrounding elements only help to enhance his job on screen. He captures the mentality of man perfectly and seeing him develop in the face of certain death and a crumbling family life is handled masterfully, both by Shimura and Kurosawa. The performance is truly incredible and certainly had me impressed throughout the hefty two and a half hour run time.

Now the run time could have easily been a flaw, and there were one or two scenes where things slowed down a noticeable bit, but for the most part the film was paced excellently. It clearly followed a very direct Three Act structure, but age old tales have always been told about how life is, at its core, three different parts all making up a whole. I do not think it is by coincidence that Kurosawa structured the film in such a manner, and taken in context it's a truly remarkable technique. Actually, most of the artistic value of the film is handled wonderfully and just about all of the philosophical stuff is given ample attention.

The one problem I had with the film was in the bureaucratic commentary. The film starts off with a whole round about sequence of going from department to department that is used incredibly, and most of the stuff in the third act, especially the final returning to work portion, is flawlessly executed, but the theme feels a bit underdeveloped during the middle portion. Now I know this theme was not supposed to act as the backbone of this portion, but having a little more there could have really pushed the film over the top for me. When the number of successes in a film are so plentiful, as is the case with Ikiru, the one flaw tends to stand out, but as I evaluate it I am able to realize that it does not hurt the film all that much. The only other potential problem I can think of, as was the case with Rashomon, is how direct the ending is, though thankfully nothing feels rushed or forced here, so the problem here is more personal and less technical, so my supporting evidence is limited.

Ultimately, my second experience with Akira Kurosawa was similar to my first. Things start off fairly simple, but as the film builds it picks up momentum at an astounding rate and makes for an incredibly compelling film. I think the sheer amount of material here, extraneous ideas given to each individual viewer I mean, is so numerous that I need at least one more viewing to process everything, but I can say without a doubt that Ikiru demonstrates Kurosawa's versatility as a storyteller and as a director while still existing wonderfully as a narrative. Ikiru hits every note pitch perfect and has me, once again, excited to see more Kurosawa.

A[/A+?] or 4.672348239143679563159783

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.