Paper Heart (2009)

Shot in documentary style, but in reality largely improvised (as witnessed by the fact that it won a screenwriting award at Sundance), Paper Heart wants to examine the nature of true love through the eyes of a couple of Hollywood stars.

Charlyne Yi (This is 40, Knocked Up) stars as herself. She’s a lovelorn starlet, searching for connection, while trying to understand what draws any two people to each other.

She moves in Hollywood circles, that bring her in contact with many celebrities (both major and minor). At a party she talks briefly with Micheal Cera (TVs Arrested Development, Juno, This is the End, Scott Pilgrim vs the World). The pair have a mutual attraction, but are both also wary. She doesn’t trust that true love exists, while he’s reluctant about being filmed constantly.

The film crew is intentionally on-screen. The “director” is played by Jake Johnson (Drinking Buddies, Safety Not Guaranteed). He conspires with Yi, trying desperately to coax a storyline from Yi’s romantic pursuits.

One interesting aspect of Paper Heart is its use of crude animation in its story telling. Rough sketches are made into even rougher puppets, and creatively assembled to accompany voice-over narration. These were my favorite parts of the film.

It has its moments, but overall I didn’t buy Paper Heart. It doesn’t reveal any new insights about human interaction, romantic or otherwise. Yi doesn’t come across as anywhere nearly as lonely and disillusioned as she professes. As similarly revealed in the 1997 Woody Allen doc Wild Man Blues, it seems Cera is more confident in real life than his accepted persona projects; he merely plays insecure onscreen. I expected more, and was mildly disappointed. 

However, there’s a bright spot in bonus DVD features. Yi conducts brief interviews with celebrity comedian friends. Her short conversations with Bill Hader and Demetri Martin (among others) are the funniest things about Paper Heart.

Silkwood (1980)

The main characters in Silkwood are all very blue collar. We know this because they have deep southern drawls (though Cher’s comes and goes), and smoke endlessly. Everyplace.

Meryl Streep (too many films to name) plays Karen Silkwood. She works at a Oklahoma factory that refines, processes and produces radioactive material. The place his similar safety protocols to the concession stand at a little-league game. Yokels working with radioactive materials reminiscent of Homer Simpson. Security procedures seem nearly non-existent.

Her beau Drew is played by Kurt Russell (1982’s the Thing, Death Proof) . A bit of a reactionary hothead, he wants to do his job, work some overtime, and drink beer.

Cher (Mask, Suspect, Moonstruck) is their roommate Dolly, who happens to be gay. It feels like a brave choice for the filmmakers to have an overtly gay character in a mainstream film, nearly 30 years ago. Less progressive is the fact that, upon learning Dolly’s gay, Karen and Drew are taken aback.

The three take a road trip. The long drive allows for a little backstory. They’re off to see Karen’s kids, who live with her ex-husband in Texas.

Some months before the workers at the plant went on strike. In the aftermath, there’s a movement towards union decertification, and diminished workers rights. Karen volunteers to help organize the workers, and immediately jumps into it headfirst. Which, of course, pisses off good ‘ole boy Drew. If it were up to him, Karen would cool it with the union rabble rousing. When he inevitably moves out in protest, he packs his 8-track tapes, two cartons of smokes, and his American flag.

Ron Silver (Reversal of Fortune, Ali) plays a Washington D.C. union rep. They want to highlight health and safety issues to keep membership up. He’s got the not-so-subtle long hair, beard-and-mustache and northeast nasal accent of a stereotypical liberal trouble-maker.

One day a co-worker is contaminated, “cooked” as they call it. She’s taken to a shower and scrubbed down by company doctors. They claim she’s received a negligible dose, and diagnose her safe and healthy. But Karen’s skeptical. She’s convinced the higher-ups aren’t telling the truth about acceptable safety levels.

Then, shortly after cleaning up her work station alone, Karen’s scan sets off radiation alarms, too. She, too, has been irradiated, and goes through the same unpleasant clean-up procedure. But how did she become contaminated?

Craig T. Nelson (TVs Coach, Poltergeist, the Incredibles) plays the lecherous Winston. His biggest character trait is a gold chain with a lightning bolt pendent. He’s supposed to examine X-rays of fuel rods, checking for defects in welds. What he really does is touch up the images, to make them appear safe.

So the set-up is that Karen is agitating on behalf of the union, and is being poisoned by plant management for her efforts. Silkwood paints a clear divide between the workers and management. Workers=good, common folk. Management are all stern-faced and duplicitous. Which, while that view may have my sympathy, is more than a little heavy-handed. The worker/management antagonism recalls such films as Erin Brockovich and Norma Rae.

It’s hard to believe these workers wouldn't know more than they do about the dangers of radiation. They treat their workplace with no exceptional respect. Odd, given that they’re handling plutonium!

Music in the movie is sparse, but used conspicuously to punctuate supposedly poignant moments. It’s used to accentuate a fight between Karen and Dolly, and then again after Karen makes a particularly significant statement.

Streep is predictably terrific. Her characterization of an earnest-yet-reckless small-town girl feels right. It takes real talent to watch her as this country girl and not think the entire time “hey! That’s Meryl Streep.” But somehow she accomplishes it.

Cher was nominated for supporting actress, but has very few lines, and not much screen time. She was fine, but nothing special.

Minor roles are populated by familiar faces, and actors who went on to become stars: David Strathairn (Eight Men Out, City of Hope, Passion Fish, the Firm, L.A. Confidential, Good Night and Good Luck), Fred Ward (Tremors, Short Cuts, the Player, Henry and June), Bruce McGill (look him up), Anthony Heald (Dr. Chilton from the Silence of the Lambs), and many others you’ll recognize.

Silkwood’s art director (Richard D. James) gets props for the “Hang In There, Baby, Friday’s Comin’!” poster on the bathroom wall, and wine-bottle candle holder (with wax melted all down its sides) on the coffee table. Pure 80s.

The film was released during the height of the Cold War, and in the wakes of Three Mile Island and Love Canal accidents (as well as just before Chernobyl). It’s no surprise the nation was jumpy, and ripe for conspiracy-driven disaster films.

Silkwood is entertaining, and (save for a couple romantic scenes between Streep and Russsell) mostly well-paced, if a little light on subtlety. It looks grainy and washed out, the way the 70s exist in memory. Director Mike Nichols has done better (the Graduate, Closer, Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Primary Colors) and worse (Wolf, the Birdcage, What Planet are you From?). It has the distinction of being Nora Ephron’s (When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle) first cinema credit. The facts about Karen Silkwood’s life are more interesting than this film. Silkwood is an interesting first foray into her story.

Blood Brother (2013)

This is one of the most remarkable, emotionally-stirring, heartwarming, unbelievable, unlikely, thoughtful, kind, and tender documentaries I’ve ever seen. And I’m not speaking in hyperbole. It’s in the same class as So Much, So Fast and A Long Night’s Journey Into Day (both of which, if you haven’t seen, you need to immediately), in terms of emotional weight and overall impact.

Rocky’s (named Robin at birth, which his grandfather thought too feminine, so re-christened him “Rocky”) in his late 20s/early 30s, and looks a lot like the Foo Fighters Dave Grohl. He grew up in Ohio, but now lives in Pittsburgh. A thoughtful, gentle kid, he’s unsure what he wants to do with his life. So he visits India, and while there somehow stumbles upon an orphanage for HIV-positive kids and women (what could possibly be more heartrending, right?).

Rocky begins volunteering at the center, and seems to have found his vocation in helping kids. He stays in humble dwellings, in order to not project an air of Western superiority. He’s viewed by skeptical local villagers as an outsider, but takes to the children immediately.

The movie’s as much about them as it is the American visitor. Though desperately sick, they aren’t victims. They’re just like most other kids, rowdy, playful, silly, high-energy. In fact, I’ve never seen children smile so brightly. Their eyes sparkle with happiness and optimism. And they love Rocky, calling him “Rocky anna” (or “Rocky big brother”).

Rocky’s incredibly loving and giving with the kids. They climb all over him like a tree, drag him to the ground, and generally bathe him in affection. He’s a latter-day Mother Theresa, giving them all his energy and devotion. Unlike most of us, he’s unfazed by the potential dangers of their illness. He wrestles with them on the floor. He oils their dry skin, and cleans their wounds when their blisters weep. To earn their trust, he even shares his plate with them. He’s as committed to these kids as anyone could be.

Because AIDS is such a horrible disease, children inevitably become sick and die, which takes an emotional toll on not only Rocky, but also the filmmakers. There’s no pretense that they maintain a safe distance from their subjects; there’s hardly a way to look at this story dispassionately. The emotional weight is so overwhelming Rocky’s uncertain he can continue, knowing that this grim reality will be a constant. Who has the emotional wherewithal to choose to develop these intimate bonds, only to know many of the kids will ultimately die far too young?

Through it all, Rocky tries to keep the kids spirits’ up. What’s incredible is how much they buoy his.

Footage for Blood Brother was shot by Rocky’s best friend/director Steve Hoover. After Rocky’s been at the nursery for three years, Steve visits and is blown away by what he discovers, so decides to film it. The movie’s made up of countless shots of kids smiling faces, juxtaposed with India’s abject poverty. It’s colors are vibrant and rich. There are slo-mo scenes of simple pleasures, like kids learning to read, playing with toys, and eating birthday cake.

The storytelling isn’t always perfect. There’s a subplot where Rocky pursues a romantic relationship with an Indian woman, which fades sporadically in and out of the story. She’s just suddenly there, then gone, then back. It’s confusing. Also, the topic sometimes feels bigger than this film. It can’t always encompass the enormity of children living with AIDS. But it tries, and what it does show is filled with emotion.

This film is so profound and affecting, it made me wonder “what the hell am I doing with my life that's so great? Why am I not helping terminally ill children???” it also made me wonder why it hadn’t made a bigger impression upon its release. It’s so affecting and so perfectly poetic, for about the first half hour I wondered if it was scripted, and not really a documentary. Large portions of the film are composed of a zillion shots quickly edited together, which adds to the energy of the joyous shots, but can at times feel like an MTV video. Still, it’s a small criticism in a film this uncommon.

It’s hard to overstate the visceral impact of Blood Brother.\ It’s sincerity and innocence are undeniably poignant. The children’s warmth and energy are irresistible. Rocky’s enthusiasm and dedication to the kids is inspiring. In one scene Rocky talks about how he can at times be arrogant and impatient, but he hopes he’s teaching the kids worthwhile lessons. What’s truly amazing is how just much they’re teaching him.

Rush (2013)

2013’s Rush (which I always want to call “Crash,” b/c of all the wrecks in trailer) is beautiful to look at. Director Ron Howard (the Paper, Night Shift, Frost/Nixon, Apollo 13) has loaded the screen with plenty of bright, oversaturated colors, lightening-fast cars, and unusually handsome people. There are views from inside cars, inside helmets and even inside the engines. Everything zooms around the screen.

The story’s details a rivalry between Formula 1 drivers: Britian’s roguish, impulsive ladies man James Hunt (Thor’s Chris Hemsworth), and the coldly calculating, orthodontally-challenged Austrian Nikki Lauda (Daniel Bruhl of Inglorious Bastards). It’s a fairly traditional tale, where the former is a happy-go-lucky, reckless free spirit, in contrast with the latter, who believe in laser focus to his craft, a strict training regimen, and the benefits of science.

We see the pair rise up through the ranks, ultimately establishing themselves as the top two drivers in the sport. The gregarious and outgoing Hunt is well liked within the racing community, by the media, and especially women. A surly, isolated loner, Lauda is all about his job. He doesn’t have time for the extracurriculars, even if it makes him unpopular.

Danger’s a given in this sport. The fact that every season drivers will certainly die steering at outlandish speeds around twisty race tracks, is just the cost of doing business for these men. Hunt seems to shrug at that reality, preferring to instead floor the gas pedal, drive fearlessly, and let the chips fall where they may. Lauda believes it foolish to try and win races if the cost might be your life.

Like Avatar, I was more impressed with Rush as a technical achievement than entertained by it as an film. The visual effects are seamless and convincing. Twisted metal and resulting fireballs look life threatening. Crashes feel real and frightening. Unfortunately, I didn’t care much about the characters. Lauda’s not really a likeable guy, which makes it hard to root for him when he faces adversity. Hunt is a big lunk, who seems to have more of life’s benefits that perhaps he deserves.

Rush is a rivalry sports film, like Rocky or Hoosiers before it, but with a little morality thrown in to provide depth. We’re supposed to like Hunt because he’s outgoing and affable, if kind of a dim bulb. Lauda is unapproachable and taciturn, but not such a bad guy either, when it comes down to it. Their rivalry moves from competition, to grudging respect, to friendship, as most films like this usually do. Unfortunately, the watching ti happen isn’t all that memorable, and as such Crash (I mean Rush) hasn’t stayed with me so much. It’s lasting impression is as fleeting as the cars that blur past the camera. It’s racing scenes are thrilling, as much as cars driving very fast in circles can be (Americans don’t really care about this sport the way Europeans do). The drama, not so much. Also, the score I found distracting, because the main theme sounds almost identical to the one from HBO’s NFL series Hard Knocks series. Rush is an easy effortless 123 minutes to sit before. Unfortunately, like Chinese food it’s great in the moment, but soon leaves one wanting.

Short Term 12 (2013)

Let me say this right off the bat: this is one of my favorite films of 2013. I don’t remember it ever being in theaters, and am not even sure how I heard about it. But I’m happy it found its way into my Netflix queue. It’s smartly written, well acted, emotionally touching, and well worth your 96 minutes. 

The movie’s about a group of 20-somethings, who work at a center for “underprivileged kids.” They’re caretakers who are less than nurses, and definitely not therapists, but certainly more than orderlies. They describe their role as being “the people who are there to create a safe place for the residents.” They not only keep the peace and enforce the rules (“no swearing”), but also try to show residents a little kindness in the process.

Short Term opens with a scene outside the facility (called “Short Term 12”) one morning, where a small group of current staff members are welcoming a new recruit (played by Rami Malek; Ain’t Them Bodies Saints, The Master, Oldboy) to the fold. John Gallagher Jr (known mostly for his TV work, like HBO’s the Newsroom, but also Woody Allen’s Larry David-vehicle Whatever Works) plays Mason, a facility veteran who’s as patient and understanding with the teens as he is compassionate.

As he’s telling the group a charming but embarrassing story, one of the center’s clients runs screaming from the building. The staff has to get him before he reaches the front gates; if he gets off the grounds, they can’t legally intervene.

Mason lives with Grace, the manager of the caretakers. She’s played by the appealing Brie Larson (the Spectacular Now, Don Jon, 21 Jump Street). Grace goes far-and-beyond for the kids, treating them with respect, tenderness and empathy. She feels deeply for them. This isn’t just a job for her.

Mason and Grace are clearly fond of one another, but at the same time the relationship is struggling. Grace is emotionally isolated for unknown reasons, creating distance between them. As much as Mason wants her to open up, she just can’t. 

The residents are an assortment of variously troubled, but generally sweet kids: Sammy (Alex Calloway) is the kid who ran out at the beginning. He’s passive, and enjoys playing with his sisters dolls, but otherwise seems a fairly normal teenager. Marcus (Lakeith Lee Stanfield) is a brooding African-American teenager, who’s about to turn 18. He’s struggling with the fact that when he does, he inevitably has to leave the safety and stability of the center. Luis (Kevin Hernandez) likes to sleep late, and torment Marcus by talking trash on the whiffle ball field.

One day a new resident is admitted, a young teenage girl named Jayden (Kaitlyn Dever). She’s the daughter of a friend of the center’s head therapist, who’s promised to take good care of her. Withdrawn and angry, Jayden’s hiding something from her past. Grace takes a special interest in the girl, trying to break through her defenses, with little luck.

Larsen is unusually good here. Her commanding performance as Grace is multi-layered and charismatic. Every time she's on screen, Grace is the one we’re watching. Gallagher, too, is especially skilled. He’s so kind and decent, in fact, that we’re rooting for things to work out between him and Grace.

Newcomer writer/director Destin Cretton fills Short Term 12 with sensitivity and pathos. He takes what could’ve felt like an after-school special and makes it feel unique. The film’s characters feel like real people, not caricatures or archetypes. Their actions are neither predictable or clichéd. Neither do they behave in ways merely meant to further the plot.

There’s nothing overly flashy about Short Term 12. It’s just winsome.

Prince Avalanche (2013)

On the road again

The set-up of Prince Avalanche is simple enough: two men work together painting lines in the road, along a part of Texas that’s been ravaged by fire. They work all day, then tent-camp overnight, only to get up and do it all over again. It’s an isolating, routine existence, filled with mundane work, with just one other person for company.

Paul Rudd (the Shape of Things, This is 40, Anchorman, Forgetting Sarah Marshall) plays Alvin, the straight-laced, by-the-numbers, no-nonsense, practical leader of the team. Sporting an unfortunate mustache, and shorter hair than normal, he’s a nose-to-the grindstone worker, who’s learning German for an upcoming European trip with his unseen girlfriend. He enjoys the isolation of the work. It gives him time to think.

Emile Hirsch (Alpha Dog, Into the Wild, Killer Joe) is Lance, the younger of the two. He got the job because Alvin’s dating his sister. He's a loose cannon, who possesses no internal censor. He asks Alvin if sex with a woman after she’s had a baby feels different than before. He asks this of the man dating his sister (a sister who has a child). Unlike Alvin, working and living in the forest, away from the temptations of town (read: “women” and “booze”) makes Lance crazy. He could be Jack Black’s dimwit younger brother. His blissfully-unaware dopiness is incredibly funny.

At its heart, "Avalanche" is and odd couple/buddy film, set in the great outdoors. The men talk, argue, joke and offer each other advice. They regard one another across a curious divide. Alvin doesn’t understand how Lance has gotten to this point in his life not knowing how to gut a fish. Lance can’t believe Alvin can be out in the wilderness so long without getting laid.

Director David Gordon Green (George Washington, Undertow, and HBO’s Eastbound and Down) uses the charred, lonely landscape as the film’s third character. Shots of blackened trees, rushing streams and close-ups of paint spraying on asphalt create a moody loneliness. An imaginative score by Texas’ Explosions in the Sky also adds to the desolation.

It may not sound like much, but this wonderful little film has some magic in it. You can feel the characters, as well as their relationship, grow and change over the movie’s 94 minutes. It’s funnier than I expected, but also more moving. At times it’s quiet, but never slow. In Prince Avalanche, director Green has made another subtle, insightful, entertaining gem. His latest film Joe (starring Nicolas Cage) is already getting high marks. If it’s anywhere near as enjoyable as this film, he’s building quite a resume. 

See Prince Avalanche. It doesn't have any superheroes, massive gun fights, foreign spies, shape-shifting robots, vampires, teens killing each other for sport, or barely-clad supermodels. And that's its charm.