All is Lost (2013)

The Old Man and the Sea

All is Lost is a simple enough movie: it puts its protagonist in a series of extraordinary situations, then asks him to rescue himself. But how it does this is enormously entertaining.

As the film opens, we see red cargo container bobbing innocently in the ocean. As the camera circles it, screen-legend and Sundance Film Festival-founder Robert Redford’s familiar voice calmly begins reading the elegiac words, from what sounds like the final letter of a doomed man.

The scene shifts to a shot of Redford (known earnestly as “Our Man,” in the credits) sleeping below decks, in a sailboat. On the sea alone, he’s jolted awake by a loud crash, and gallons of seawater suddenly rushing into the cabin. The wayward shipping container has ripped a jagged hole in the side of his yacht, just above the water level. The flood of water has ruined his radio and all navigation electronics. There’s no land in sight, and nobody to help him. He’s on his own against the elements. If he’s to survive, he must think and act fast.

This initial mishap is merely the start of his nautical ordeal. Before the credits roll, he will face countless other misfortunes, and far greater adversity. Relentless thunderstorms, massive waves, and crippling hopelessness all take their toll, challenging his strength and courage. What he endures is unimaginable. Just when it looks like he might get out of the woods, another life-threatening emergency arises. When it does, he must muster all his guile and stamina to thwart yet another catastrophe. With each new calamity I thought to my provincial, landlubber self “I never want to go out on the ocean ever again. I’m fine right here, on dry land.”

Like any good disaster film, the fun part is wondering: “what would I do in that situation? I think I might try this? Or maybe that? Or perhaps this other thing.” Ultimately the question becomes “If I were in his soaked shoes, could I save myself? Or would I wind up at the bottom of the sea?” It’s fascinating to play along, and see if we’re more enterprising than the movie.

Because Redford is alone on the ship, the movie contains very little dialogue. It’s just him vs. the elements, in a fight to the death. All his emotions and inner dialogue are written on his face, and conveyed through body language. It’s a virtuoso performance of physical acting. I can’t imagine the untold hours he must’ve spent in the water, during the shoot. How many other actors his age could’ve pulled this off?

Given that there’s almost no dialogue, director J.C. Chandor (Margin Call) does an outstanding job of storytelling. There’s never any doubt about what’s happening, or where we are along the story. Like Titanic and The Perfect Storm before it, the movie does a fantastic job of capturing how unforgiving and dangerous severe weather can be. Its visual effects are top rate. Through them, the filmmakers do a worthy of recreating the harrowing dangers of the open ocean. The actions scenes are terrifying, and believable. Though it’s employed, there’s no conspicuous use CGI. The movie credits two directors of photography, one underwater (Peter Zuccarini), and another above (Frank G. DeMarco). There are images of sunsets, calm breezes, and placid seas in this film, which are beautiful. Others— that show howling wind, torrential rain, and crashing waves—are chaotic and pulse pounding.

All is Lost is a gripping story of resourcefulness, steely resolve and survival, against overwhelming odds. It’s an adventure tale as exciting as any Indiana Jones movie. I felt exhausted when it was over. And happy to be no where near a boat or water.

In a World... (2013)

Carol, in the booth

The words “In a World…” begin far, far too many movie trailers begin. Say them in your head, and think about how many times you’ve been sitting in a dark theatre waiting for the movie to begin, and heard them at the start of a preview. That they’re used so often is a sign of lazy, unimaginative writing (and also probably producers who hope to make their movie sound more substantial than it really is).

In a World… is also the title of a witty and good-natured new comedy starring, directed, and written by the talented Lake Bell (What Happens in Vegas, Pride and Glory, It’s Complicated).

The movie takes place in the insular world of voice-over actors. These are the people who not only narrate movie trailers, but also tell you how much you can save on your car insurance, how many square feet of trunk space a new sedan has, and advise you to see your doctor if your erection lasts more than four hours. It’s kind of an interesting world, if you think about it. We hear and are familiar with these people’s voices every day, but never know the faces and human being attached to them.

In the film, the voice-over fraternity (and it does seem to be mostly male) is a relatively small club, where members constantly compete for a very few plum jobs. Bell plays Carol, a freelance vocal coach, who lives in Los Angeles. She’s brought in to help actors re-record dialogue, any time a particularly difficult accent is required (we see her trying to help a hapless Eva Longoria achieve a believable cockney delivery). Her father Sam (Fred Melamed; A Serious Man, Hollywood Ending, Hannah and Her Sisters) is a legendary in the field, so she’s witnessed first-hand that the career almost entirely omits women.

Already at the recording studio, helping an actor perfect an accent, she happens to record a temporary voice-over demo for a children’s film. The producers like it, and give her the job. When she finds out, she responds incredulously “…but I’m a chick?!” Soon after she successfully lands two other voice jobs in quick succession. Carol can’t believe her good fortune.

However, there is a price: now that she’s finally punched through the glass ceiling, she now finds herself in direct competition with her father for what little work there is. To make matters worse, at a party she sleeps with Gustav (Ken Marino, essentially playing the same character he did on East Bound and Down), without realizing that he, too, is a voice actor, and thus the competition. The film’s climax involves Carol competing with Sam and Gustav for a career-making job, as the voice of a new tween-action “quadrilogy” (a thinly-veiled jab at the Hunger Games).

On screen, Bell’s a natural. Her Carol is cute, clever, appealing and playfully down-to-earth (not easy to pull off, since the actress is disarmingly good looking). Her reactions and comedic timing are spot on. It doesn’t hurt that she’s written most of the best lines for herself.

There are other subplots involving Carol’s sister Dani’s (Michaela Watkins; Thanks for Sharing, Wanderlust)) near infidelity with an attractive Irish director, Sam’s tedious new trophy wife (Alexandra Holden), and a burgeoning romance between Carol and a sound engineer (Comedy Central staple Dmitri Martin). But basically In a World… is a likeable feminist fable, about Carol trying to integrate the all-male world of voice acting.

As a director, Bell’s story-telling ability could use some polish. The film looks good, and is well paced, but certain parts either seem unnecessary, or are underdeveloped. The storyline involving the struggling relationship of Dani and her husband Moe (Daily Show alum Rob Corddry; Warm Bodies, Cedar Rapids, the Way Way Back) doesn’t quite work. They seem happy and comfortable together, so why are they both tempted to stray? The film doesn’t ever say. So In a World… could be more cohesive. But that doesn't keep it from being funny and compassionate. It’s actors are likeable, instead of banal and cliche. I particularly liked the satirical running gag about grown women intentionally talking like little girls.

So what if the film’s story line isn’t terribly sophisticated, some of the characters are too one-note, and potentially major conflicts resolve a little too easily? The film has a pleasant, sweet nature and ultimately it’s heart is in the right place. It is unfair that the vocal industry is dominated by men, when women are equally capable. I'm not sure for how long the specific details of In a World… will stick with me, but I enjoyed the movie just the same. It made me laugh, and left my world feeling warm and content.

The Heat (2013)

Kung Fu=guaranteed comedy

This movie is very funny. I’m not sure if it’s actually any good, but it’s awfully funny.

Essentially, the Heat is law-enforcement version of The Odd Couple. Crass Boston cop Mullins (Melissa McCarthy; Bridesmaids, This is 40, TV’s Mike & Molly) is the sloppy Oscar Madison character. She wears the same ratty sweat pants and raggedy vest for the entire film. Sandra Bullock (Gravity, Speed) is Ashburn, the uptight FBI-agent version of Felix Unger. She won’t swear, plays exclusively by-the-book, and wears business suits for every occasion. The mismatched duo wind up unlikely partners (think Steve Martin and John Candy in Planes, Trains and Automobiles, or Chris Farley and David Spade from Tommyboy), trying to track down a drug kingpin, in Boston. 

The plot involves…never mind what it involves. None of it is important (is the story what you remember from Caddyshack, Anchorman, Airplane, Kingpin, Vacation, the Jerk, I’m Gonna Git You Sucka, Animal House, Old School, or any episode of the Three Stooges? Of course not; you remember Carl Spackler’s monologue, Ron Burgundy’s suit and mustache, Woody Harrelson’s combover, Chris Farley’s manic energy, Kenny Powers’ mullet, “I’m a zit, get it?”, etc…). What is important is that it’s laugh-out-loud hysterical. The performances and jokes are what persists. They make or break a movie like this. 

For example, a scene where Mullins takes Ashburn to meet her churlish family is comedy gold. Mullins’ brothers are there (one of whom is former New Kid On the Block, and actual Boston native Joey McIntyre), with their stringy-haired, cheaply dressed, foul-mouthed girlfriends. They’re all fighting and screaming insults at one another, in thick Boston accents. Ashburn tries to fit it, couldn’t be more out of place. It’s perfect.

A friend of mine described Melissa McCarthy as a female Will Ferrell: willing to behave in unimaginably inappropriate ways, just to sell a joke. I agree with him, but would add that—at present—she’s funnier. Like him, she may be one-note. But it’s one helluva funny note. If you liked and laughed at her character in "Bridesmaids" (like I did; how is her talking about the “steam heat” rising from her “undercarriage” ever NOT going to be funny? She got an Oscar nomination for it, for Pete’s sake), you will here, too.

Bullock plays the straight-man well. Her awkward reactions to McCarthy’s ridiculous antics work well. She causes McCarthy lots of eye rolls, and exasperation.

The movie was directed by Paul Feig, who also made Bridesmaids. The comedy here is very similar: Lots of what my Boston friends would politely call “salty language,” dick jokes, scatological humor, paired with characters doing ridiculous, unrealistic, but terrifically hilarious physical comedy. 

Much credit should also go to writer Katie Dippold, for the inspired lines that fall from McCarthy’s lips. I have no idea how much dialogue was ad-libbed, but whatever wasn’t is still fantastic.

There are needless characters and plot lines. Marlon Wayans’ young FBI agent could have been edited out entirely, and the film would be no less amusing, or concise. Not all the comedy bits work, either. One non-sequitur scene of an impromptu tracheotomy (could that ever create laughter?) is gory, and falls flat. However, these criticisms are minor. The film’s filled with many other jokes that work terrifically.

If you find McCarthy funny, see the Heat. It might be kinda thin on story, but you’ll laugh plenty. 

Blue Jasmine (2013)

How did my life come to this?

Blue Jasmine, Woody Allen’s 48th film as a director, opens with bluesy piano/trumpet music, and credits in Allens’s now-familiar, trademark font. We see Cate Blanchett on a plane, talking the ear off the woman next to her. Blanchett plays the anxious and frazzled Jasmine. After a failed marriage to a rich financial swindler, she’s flying to S.F. to move in with her sister, and “start anew in the West.”

Crashing at her sister’s apartment is a considerable downgrade from her former Manhattan lifestyle. After a cab ride, Jasmine’s mortified to find her new digs located over a fast-food joint. She’s suffocated by its size, euphemistically calling it “homey.” Having already downsized once, she rhetorically asks “Can you believe I had to move out of my beautiful home, and take a place in Brooklyn?” She’s the type who claims she’s “tapped out,” but still flies 1st class. An over-sharer, she makes those around her (fellow travelers, strangers on a park bench, other partygoers, etc...) uncomfortable by incessantly forcing the intimate details of her life onto them.

Sally Hawkins is Ginger, the sister taking Jasmine in. She’s kind, generous, genuine, effervescent and charming—always smiling—almost the exact opposite of Jasmine. Sweet to a fault, as well as a caring and loving sister, Ginger’s never quite gotten beyond that period after college when you need roommates and ramen noodles in order to make the bills. She refers to her ex-husband Augie (Andrew “Dice” Clay) as “a contractor….a handyman.”. He’s schlubby but sensitive, a regular, blue-collar guy who isn’t cerebral, but means well.

The film’s told in intermittent flashback, jumping between the present (in San Francisco) and past (New York). During one flashback, we see both couples when they were still married. Jasmine and her high-finance husband Hal (Alec Baldwin) met at a party on Nantucket. They have a house in the Hamptons (one of many), where Ginger and Augie come to vacation. When the rich relatives name-drop high-end NY restaurants, the references are lost completely on their guests. In Jasmine and Hal’s condescending eyes, Ginger and Augie have wound up on the wrong side of the tracks.

Sipping gin and tonics around the pool one day, Ginger mentions Augie’s unexpectedly come into some money. He won the lottery, and for the first time in his life suddenly has some leverage. Between that and the little he’s managed to save, Augie wants to start his own business. However, when Hal hears “money,” he’s like moths to flame. He assures Augie that he can turn the newfound wealth into even more. Surrounded by her sister’s affluence, Ginger urges Augie to let Hal invest it.

Later, while out sightseeing in the city, Ginger by chance spies Hal passionately kissing another woman on the street. What’s she to do? Should she tell her sis that Hal’s a cheat (and risk the consequences), or keep quiet and leave Jasmine to her own devices? After too many drinks at a fancy party, Ginger drops a not too subtle hint to Jasmine that she better keep an eye on her husband. Comfortable in her big house, designer clothes and expensive Chanel handbag, Jasmine chooses ignorance.

After establishing all that, movie winds along its path. New romantic interests pursued. Jobs are found and lost. Characters try to pretend all is fine. Ultimately we find out what happened to both marriages. Jasmine tries to keep her former life a secret, with disastrous results. It’s all fairly standard Allen fare. But really entertaining stuff, too.  

Blue Jasmine has some of the madcap farce and unlikely coincidence that Allen’s famous for. And while there is humor—most provided by Bobby Cannavale (The Station Agent, Win, Win, Romance and Cigarettes), as Ginger’s new, even-more-blue-collar boyfriend Chili—for the most part, it’s a serious drama. People’s lives and marriages have been ruined by bad financial decisions, infidelity and corruption. These are no laughing matters, at least not here.

But the movie is dominated by Blanchett’s Jasmine. She is restless, jittery, and seems perpetually on the verge of a nervous breakdown. In addition to an ever-present bottle of Xanax, she self medicates with vodka and complaining. Her unsettling habit of thinking the deepest, most personal feelings and details of her life out loud—to no one in particular—keeps most at arm’s length. She dresses and carries herself like a wealthy, well-cared-for woman, even when she takes a job as a dentist’s receptionist. Unable to release the trappings of her former upscale life and accept her new station, she’s detached from reality. Self absorbed, reckless and self involved, she recalls a former Allen creation, Melinda from the eponymous Melinda & Melinda.

Blanchett’s performance has rightly been highly praised (and nominated for an Oscar; she’s rumored to be the front runner). Her fragility and lack of self control is like watching someone walk a tightrope. At any moment it could all come tumbling down. When I watched the dvd’s supplemental material, the difference between Blanchett in press interviews, and her on-screen persona, is striking. In real life she comes across as confident, worldly, composed, mature, and prepossessing. There’s no hint of the fretful, insecure, panic-stricken Jasmine she plays in the film (perhaps it’s just the Australian accent?)

The rest of the film’s cast is likewise fantastic. Hawkins (also Oscar-nominated) and Cannavale are terrifically affecting. It’s amazing to see the same actor who played the ruthlessly violent Gyp Rosetti in Boardwalk Empire, plead for his girlfriend’s return in a grocery-store produce department. Even minor roles are played by unusually skilled actors. Peter Sarsgaard (Jarhead, Kinsey, Shattered Glass and Garden State) is an erudite ambassador, who becomes Jasmine’s post-Hal love interest. Michael Stuhlbarg (also Boardwalk Empire, as well as the Coen Brothers’ A Serious Man, Scorsese’s Hugo and Men In Black 3) is the hapless dentist, who can’t take a hint. And Louis CK (American Hustle, The Invention of Lying, Louis) is amiable and endearing as Al, Ginger’s romantic life raft.

Blue Jasmine is “serious” Woody Allen (as opposed to comedic). It leans more towards Crimes and Misdemeanors, Husbands and Wives, and Match Point, than Bananas, Love and Death, Small Time Crooks, Mighty Aphrodite or Manhattan Murder Mystery. But like all his work, it’s insightful about the human condition: our fretful nature, fickle and fleeting romantic interests, and the problems we inevitably and inescapably cause ourselves. I’m biased, and perhaps in the minority; I think all Allen’s movies are worth seeing. (I don’t subscribe to the notion that he’s ever “fallen off,” or “finally returned to form”). While some pictures are surely more enjoyable than others, almost without exception they’re superior to all but a few of what Hollywood releases today. Blue Jasmine included. It may not be Annie Hall or Manhattan (few are), but it still provides a great return on your investment.

Enough Said (2013)

TV titans hangin' on the stoop. 

There are so many good things to like about this movie, I’m not sure where to begin. After I saw Fruitvale Station, I was pretty certain it was going to be my favorite film of 2013. Now I’m not so positive.

Enough Said is articulate, poignant, heartfelt, honest, kind, sincere, insightful, funny, and touching. Writer/director Nicole Holofcener somehow manages to put all these qualities together, using characters that are never clichéd or predictable.

The movie stars two of the most recognizable TV actors of the last 25 years: the late James Gandolfini, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus. She’s Eva, a pleasant and playful massage therapist. He plays the genial Albert, who works at the museum of television history. There he transitions old broadcasts to newer, digital formats (kind of a neat job, really). Both are divorced, single parents, who live with daughters soon off to their freshmen years at college.

Eva and Albert meet at a swanky party, where they exchange pleasantries. Afterwards, he asks her to dinner.

From the outset she’s ambivalent. He’s a little overweight, so she doesn’t find him particularly attractive. Curious and lonely, she accepts his invitation anyway. What’s the harm?

The result is one of the best, least-awkward first dates in history. The banter is clever, rhythmic, interesting, and engaging. They make each other laugh, and share a winning chemistry. Unusually frank with each other, there’s a surprising mutual attraction, the result of an easy-going comfort to their togetherness. It feels like the start of a charming, mature, stable new relationship.

Eva mostly dreads her clients, complaining about them to married friends Sarah (Toni Collette; The Way Way Back, Little Miss Sunshine) and Will (Ben Falcone; “Not” Air Marshall Jon in Bridesmaids, and current husband of the brilliantly funny Melissa McCarthy). Who could blame her? From superficial, overly-chatty, rich housewives, to oblivious men with oppressively bad breath, most are intolerable boors. It seems all she can muster just to tolerate them. They talk at, rather than to, her. Still, it’s a living. So she dutifully lugs her massage table from her Prius, up flights of stairs, only to find customers who drone on endlessly about life’s minutiae.

One, however, (Marianne, played by Holofcener-regular Catherine Keener; Being John Malkovich, Out of Sight, the 40-Year Old Virgin, Friends with Money, Capote) seems a kindred spirit. Like Eva, Marianne is also a middle-aged divorcee, with a daughter preparing to leave the nest. She is interesting—a poet (Eva asks incredulously “you make a living doing that?”)—with a gorgeous home who, instead of simply babbling about herself, is generous, empathic and a good listener. Over complaints about their failed marriages and ex’s insufferable habits, Eva and Marianne soon become friends.  

Eva makes a fateful choice to keep a secret from both Albert and Marianne. It’s an immature, regrettable, and devastating decision, one from which she cannot return. As a result, Eva begins questioning her relationship with Albert, and slowly, subtly and deliberately pulling away.

The scenes between Eva and Albert feel so genuine, some almost made me uncomfortable. They hit too close to home. Anyone who’s ever been in a serious relationship will recognize the wild shifts in power: once eagerly-anticipated phone calls instead now are screened. Rather than finding excuses to spend time together, other plans start to take precedence. Eva stops seeing his charms, instead only recognizing his shortcomings. Albert is criticized for meaningless indiscretions, such as not having bedside tables, or being able to whisper. Sex becomes clumsy, less spontaneous and infrequent. Eva tries to convince herself that she’s merely being neurotic, overly anxious, and possessive. In reality, everything’s going to be alright, isn’t it? When things seem slightly off, Albert asks her “what’s wrong?” She replies “nothing,” even though clearly something is. Who wants to open that enormous can of worms, when they can avoid conflict, and pretend things are fine?

Enough Said keenly observes how quickly relationships transition from that first thrilling but all-too-fleeting period of a relationship—the intoxicating first flush of realizing someone new really wants to be with me!—into an altogether different one. Suddenly and without warning, things change. The giddy excitement and impulsive sex evaporate. Private moments become filled with insecurity and self doubt. Confidence and stability quickly erode, replaced by the nagging question “are we really a good fit?” Eager to keep the peace, both parties make things worse by pretending everything’s still fine. Couples begin making lists of all the annoying qualities about the other person. Once that bell's sounded, it can't be un-rung. Traits we don’t like, and wish would change, become all we can see. 

There are lines in Enough Said that made me wish I’d said them. Not because they’re the smartest, or funniest, or cleverest strings of words ever uttered, but because they are brave. The characters who deliver them must have deep wells of self confidence, self respect, and self worth. How else to explain taking the risk of opening up so much, and leaving oneself so vulnerable?

Gandolfini and Louis-Dreyfuss are so convincing in their roles, never once did I think “that’s Tony Soprano!”, or “hey! Elaine, from Seinfeld!” Seeing him as the gentle, considerate, and tender Albert, made me sad he’s gone. Her Eva made me happy the next season of Veep isn’t far off. Given their talents, lofty statures and impeccable reputations, Gandolfini and Louis-Dreyfuss could’ve sleepwalked through their roles. We’d have likely still been entertained. They didn’t, and the movie’s all the better for it.

The film mostly focuses on the multi-faceted Eva character. She hides behind humor, rather than risking genuine connection. As the time for her daughter to leave for college approaches, the two drift apart, while at the same time a bond with one of her daughter’s friends grows. She cares about Albert deeply, but can’t help but sabotaging the relationship.

There’s a haywire, Woody Allen-esque twist, which some might claim is too convenient and coincidental, thus undermining the film’s authenticity. It’s a valid point, though I didn’t find any of those things to be the case. I’m unsure whether or not to divulge the particulars, for fear of ruining the surprise. I never saw it coming. However, it’s central to the story, as well as to why the film’s as compelling and entertaining as it is. In the interest of not spoiling it, I think I’ll leave it be, and let you discover for yourself.

Enough Said is filled with honesty, compassion, and humor. It’s characters are vibrant, sharply contrasting, and possess real depth. They react towards one another, and the developments in their lives, in the same ways real people would. It left me feeling warm, hopeful and content. It’s one of the best films of 2013.