Let the Grown-Ups Work

Two new films deal - in very different ways - with grown men who are at odds with the world around them. In Black Mass, small-time gangster James "Whitey" Bulger sees opportunity and ruthlessly moves to expand his sphere of influence while in The Intern, retired phone book manufacturer Ben Whittaker seeks to fill his days by working at an internet start-up.

 Black Mass purports to be the story of how far loyalty can stretch when one boy grows up to become an FBI agent and another grows up to become a gangster with his fingers in the criminal pies of extortion, loan sharking, drugs, and everything else an FBI agent is supposed to stop. (I say "purports" because there's some question about how much is true - a common problem with biopics.) Wanting to bring down the Italian mob more than wanting to bust an old friend from Southie, Agent John Connolly convinces his onetime friend, James Bulger, to become an informant. He won't be a rat, you understand - rats are bad - but he'll be able to clean out the old neighborhood.

Bulger understands very well. Nature, and crime, abhor a vacuum, so as the Italians go away, Bulger takes over. Played by Johnny Depp is one of his most compelling performances ever, Bulger is the picture of the neighborhood gangster. He's kind to little old ladies and probably tells kids to stay in school, but he's absolutely ruthless when crossed and he doesn't bother to ask anyone else to do his dirty work - Bulger's fine killing with his bare hands. It's an astonishing performance and the supporting cast (which includes Benedict Cumberbatch, Kevin Bacon, and Jesse Plemons) is very strong. In fact, the performances are probably a shade better than the story, which can seem choppy in places. However, Black Mass is well worth seeing, even if it just to remind you that behind Depp's campy romps is an actor who has honed his craft to a fine edge.

In another generation, The Intern would have been a Cary Grant movie.* Ben Whittaker (Robert De Niro) answers an ad seeking senior citizens to be interns at "About the Fit," an internet clothing company that was established by Jules Ostin (Anne Hathaway). The company isn't even two years old and Jules has over 200 employees, as well as a husband and daughter. She's trying to juggle her responsibilities in all these areas of her life and, while she means well, she's making a hash of it all. Ben might not be familiar with the technological whosits, but he's the voice of calm reason and picture of style. (Side note - yes, men should carry handkerchiefs - I married a man who does and it certainly does get noticed!) This film doesn't really have any sharp edges; it's a throwback to a quieter sort of comedy and while not all of it quite holds together (I think writer/director Nancy Meyers lets Jules' husband off too easily and the film praises overwork more than I think it ought to), The Intern will become a late-night movie staple. See it in the theaters first.


*One of the later ones - maybe Walk Don't Run.

Things in the Dark

Two new movies came across my bow this week - the action/adventure revenge flick John Wick and the Chris Nolan science-fiction epic Interstellar. What to see, what to see . . .

Seriously - wouldn't you kill for this dog?

 First - John Wick is surprisingly good. It's a film that knows what it is, makes no pretensions beyond that, and works within its parameters quite well. It's cliched (seriously, everything - everything - hinges on a cute beagle puppy named "Daisy" that was a gift to John Wick from his wife after her tragic death), but somehow it manages to make that work, possibly because the movie embraces the silliness of it. First time co-directors David Leith (who is best known for exceptional stunt work on movies such as V for Vendetta, 300, and the upcoming Jupiter Ascending) and Chad Stahelski (who has an equally deep resume on stunt work, including Whedon's Serenity) know what makes an action movie look good and there's nary a shaky hand-held shot in sight. (Thank you!) Keanu Reeves may have limited range as an actor, but here he's in his element (full disclosure - I like Keanu Reeves. There is story after story about him being a genuinely decent, nice guy (click here!) and I think that get shoved aside all too often. Besides, he was half of Bill & Ted, and that counts for something with me.)

John Wick is a revenge picture - Wick is a very talented hit man who got out of the game and lived a quiet, very comfortable life with his wife, who dies not from some other assassin's bullet, but from something as mundane as disease. She knew she was dying and arranged for a puppy to be delivered to her grieving husband after her death so he could have something to love and to help him heal. So far so good, until some piddling kid with a Russian mobster for a father tries to carjack Wick's ride and winds up staging a home invasion where the puppy - well, it's not graphic (wives and girlfriends usually get it worse in these sorts of pictures), but Wick is back in the game. The movie puts together a dark world that has rules, including hotels and clubs that cater to the dark underworld of hired killers and let me just say - awesome customer service! Not for children, but a solid action movie that understands how to film a gunfight so the audience actually knows what's going on in the frame. Tremendous, but highly violent, fun - and Ian McShane!

Interstellar, on the other hand, is less fun. I'm not going to quibble with the science - it's a feature film, not a documentary, and I allow a lot of leeway there, understanding that directors like Nolan are far more concerned with making it look good than making it strictly accurate.

But.

Bad design - way too much surface area
to get hit by debris, but hey! looks cool.

I know I'm going to be in the minority on this one - people love Nolan's movies, which I have often found to be disjointed, hinge on befuddling relationships, and rely far too much on bulk deliveries from the Plot Convenience Warehouse.* That said, Interstellar will be a wonderful movie to snark you way through and, at just under three hours, you'll have plenty of time to be clever. The core problem here is that Nolan is confusing intricacy of plot with depth. A tangled necklace chain can take some patient work to untangle, but then you have it sorted out in front of you. The plot to Interstellar is not worth nearly as much work, although I am gratified to know that there will apparently be no shortage of mascara in space. I could go on and on about the problems I have with this film (and there are many), but let me just hit on four.

1. We need some explanation as to how the "blight" destroying the crops has been able to leapfrog species.  And really - was it necessary to pick on okra?
2. Nolan's use of Ken Burns' Dust Bowl footage is an interesting use of misdirection to get us thinking that the folks being interviewed there are looking back and discussing the timeframe of the movie, not the 1920s and 1930s. You know, the Dust Bowl - the worst man-made ecological disaster in American history that really happened.
3. McConaughey's Cooper hasn't been a test pilot for at least a dozen years, yet he finds NORAD and within three days or so, he's in a spaceship.
4. Thank heavens Cooper didn't prefer a digital watch.

Scientists are weighing in on the hard science of Interstellar - click here  for that view and Vulture has compiled a list of "things in Interstellar that don't make sense" that's a fun read (click here!) if you want to get that point of view.

There's good in this film, too - particularly Mackenzie Foy, who plays the young Murph, Cooper's daughter who is left behind as he goes off to save the world.

I know that many, many people are loving this movie and finding profound questions in it regarding time, space, and love. I'm just not one of them. I've often said that science fiction is the genre that is perhaps best suited to asking those big questions - but no, Interstellar is not a film that does that, preferring to skim the surface, muddy the waters, and direct the audience in how to feel when. Plus, I think it owes an apology to the estate of Dylan Thomas for the heavy overuse of "Do Not Go Gentle." Last bit of snark - could someone PLEASE tell Hans Zimmer that the soundtrack doesn't always have to go to eleven? It makes the dialogue hard to hear, although now that I think about it . . . nevermind.



*I allow that Memento and The Prestige are exceptions to this - both are strong Nolan films that I enjoyed, even as I had to work to unravel the plots.

Can You Hear the People Sing?

Confession - I like musicals.  Big, splashy, in-your-face musicals.  Lately, it seems that most musicals we get are of the kid variety - you know, Pixar and Disney; that sort of thing.  There's nothing at all wrong with that - there's some great stuff in that type of film.  But I occasionally like my singing to come from people, rather than from animated teacups and cartoon elephants.

Which brings us to the big-screen version of Les Miserables.  The original novel is by Victor Hugo (who also wrote The Hunchback of Notre-Dame - there ought to be a limit on how much talent one man gets) and it's a tale well worth telling.  Technically, the film is a musical (basically meaning that it's not entirely sung) rather than an opera, but the grand scheme and sweep of the tale deserves the operatic tag.  One song was added specifically for the film and while I certainly don't think "Suddenly" is awful, I have to admit that I don't think it adds all that much - mostly because Les Miserables needs no addition.  It's a lovely show as is.  The book of the original stage show is by Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boubil with lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer and Les Miserables has been thrilling audiences ever since its debut in the mid-1980s.  

A show such as this has a nigh-fanatically devoted following, so why film it?  What does film offer that the stage doesn't?  Valid questions - in a film, you can do take after take until you get it just right.  On stage - well, the show well and truly must go on, regardless of sore throats, emotional upheaval backstage, or rude audiences.  There's a certain immediacy to a stage show - yes, you have a script, but the show really is different from night to night.

All in a single take.  ONE!

I think Tom Hooper pulled it off.  Hooper is probably best known for 2010's The King's Speech and for the TV miniseries about John Adams.  With Les Miserables, he did something extraordinary.  He filmed it live.  Really.  It's usual for the cast to assemble in a studio, sing their parts, then lip-sync during filming.  Hooper said, "Nuts to that!" and had his cast sing live - take after take.  The results are breathtaking.  Anne Hathaway's Fantine will move you to tears (by the way, in an interesting bit of trivia, Hathaway's mother covered the role of Fantine in the touring production when Hathaway was a child) at the sheer unfairness of life and that's unlikely to be the only time you cry.  (Samantha Barks' Eponine is a sublime joy to watch, even though you have a sinking feeling this can't end well.  Trust your instincts.)  Hugh Jackman, a renowned song-and-dance man before he became Wolverine, does Valjean proud and I'm even willing to give Russell Crowe a pass, although his voice is noticeably weaker than that of the other main characters.

Les Miserables is a gorgeous show that makes you  itch for revolution - in three-part harmony.  The settings, even in the slums, are rich with detail (note the shivering Fantine as she tries to survive winter on the docks)  It depicts a world in which cruelty is everywhere and it's dog-eat-dog out there.  Watch out for yourself, for no one else will bother and if you're too stupid to understand that, well, you deserve to get fleeced.*  The haves living in comfort and luxury, oblivious to the misery of the have-nots.  It makes you angry.  Yet Les Miserables is also about grace.  Kindness extended to those who don't deserve it.  The law as an unforgiving snare versus the obligation to repay what can't be repaid by doing your best to live right.  Taking a chance because you made a promise, even though that promise makes your life much, much more difficult.  In many ways, it's not a happy movie, but it's one that makes you glad to be alive.  But no, the good guys don't always win here.  It's not called "The Happy Ones," after all.

*Side note:  I once overheard someone say:  "Thank God we don't get what we deserve."  Gruesomely true words.