Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Inequality for All (2013)



Inequality for All, the 2013 documentary by Jacob Kornbluth which stars former Labor Secretary Robert Reich, paints a disturbing picture of how the wealth in the United States is concentrating into fewer and fewer hands. Based on Reich’s 2010 book Aftershock: the Next Economy and America’s Future, the film’s main point is that a strong and stable middle class is indicative of a nation’s healthy, productive and sustainable economy. And in the America of 2014, the middle class is shrinking.

The film opens with Reich’s lecturing before one of his large Cal-Berkely classes. A diminutive man, he holds court before auditorium packed to overflowing. He’s clearly a rock-star professor.

Though charts and graphs, Inequality makes a convincing case that the 1% are profiting the expense of the rest of us. Reich shows inverse correlation between union membership, political partisanship, and of middle-class wealth. According to him, things are not headed in the right direction. 

In addition to being well informed on the issues, Reich comes across as an amiable, thoughtful, charismatic guy. Despite his small stature, he’s clearly a big thinker (he’s taught at Harvard and Brandeis; he’s clearly a bright guy). He drives a Mini Cooper because (as he says) the two are “in proportion.” He’s funny, insightful, seems trustworthy and (unlike most politicians) remarkably human. What drives his thinking is not ideology, but compassion for his fellow human. He’s inspiring and optimistic.

What surprised me was how emotionally stirring parts of the film are. Reich recalls boyhood connections with a well-known historical figure, and how it affected his philosophy and life choices. It’s moving, and heart warming.

Along with a recurring suspension-bridge-shaped graph, the film makers use personal interviews, animation, and myriad stock footage (ranging from black-and-white images from several decades ago, all the way up to the present day) to make their points. Despite some fairly dense material, the film’s nimble and interesting. It’s not a dry, slow or boring, but instead engaging and entertaining throughout. It’s also persuasive (which is perhaps to be expected since, where my politics are concerned, it’s preaching the choir). Inequality joins Enron: the Smartest Guys in the Room, An Inconvenient Truth, Client 9: the Rise and Fall of Eliot Spitzer, and Inside Job on a growing list of left-leaning docs, which are as intellectually stimulating as they are viscerally compelling.


Sightseers (2012)

"Did you bring the sleeping bags and s'mores fix-ins?"

In the DVD bonus materials for the 2012 movie Sightseers, the principal actors and director claim they made a black comedy. That wasn’t how it came across. What I found was a character study of two very maladjusted, dangerous people.

Chris and Tina recently began dating. At the start, we see them packing a caravan. Against the wishes of her judgmental mother, they’ve decided to go camping across rural England.

Though outwardly each seems fairly normal, it’s not long before it’s clear they’re odd birds. Just beneath the surface each harbors seething rage.

We’re not told much about their backgrounds. She lives at home with a controlling mother, and works with animals. She’s conspicuously insecure, and a little too eager to please Chris. His acceptance nourishes her more than it would if she possessed more confidence.

Chris is tormented by perceived petty slights. He interprets a man littering at a trolley museum as a personal affront. The fact that he’s powerless to do anything about it beyond calling the litterbug on his actions only heightens his resentment. When the man not only refuses to clean up his mess, but taunts Chris about it, Chris gets his revenge by “accidently” backing over the man with the caravan.

So it begins.

At campgrounds, on hiking trails, while visiting pencil museums (???) and the like, Tina and Chris bump in to various people who annoy them to varying degrees. They come to realize that, rather than being inconvenienced by such things as a stranger’s requests to pick up after their dog at a public park, they can simply off him instead.

As they travel around to different locales, the bodies pile up. Someone’s too loud in a restaurant, or not polite enough by the campfire. Grounds enough for Chris and Tina to nix them. Initially Chris does most of the dirty work, but as time passes Tina gets in on the act. He approves of her violence, which only validates her, and provides her much-needed esteem.


I’ve never seen either actor (Alice Lowe and Steve Oram, who were members of a British comedy troupe) before, which does lend a sense of creepy mystery. The pair are mundane, nondescript, middle-class nobodies. I suppose this is where the comedy is supposed to come in. The movie's tag line talks about murder having "a ginger beard" and "knitted jumper." Kinda amusing, but not so much jocular. 

With eerie music, long silences and awkward character interactions, director Ben Wheatley (Kill List; Down Terrace) imbues Sightseers with a palpable uncomfortable (not comedic) mood. Scenes of goofy, stilted small talk between strangers at tourist spots feel right. I've been on those vacations with my parents, rolling my eyes when they blurted out what they thought were funny rejoinders in response to tour guides’ questions, and then wanted to visit yet another battle field. That wasn’t funny, either.



World Trade Center (2006)

Rescue workers search for survivors

Even though I was fascinated by the event that inspired it, for some reason I never saw the 2006 film World Trade Center. I guess I figured it was going to be an overly earnest, biased, or over-the-top portrayal of the horrible carnage we all saw that day. Because of the exhaustive and continuous news coverage, I couldn’t imagine there was much about the tragedy I didn’t already know. Still, curious about the film all these years later, I watched it recently on DVD, and was pleasantly surprised.

The planes crash relatively early in the film. All that’s shown is the shadow of a jet racing over Manhattan’s skyline. We’ve all seen enough unsettling newsreel footage that we understand what’s coming. Smart of director Oliver Stone to avoid showing all that again. It could've veered into exploitative, gratuitous territory.

Rather than trying to encompass all the overarching events of the disaster, Stone (Natural Born Killers, JFK, Wall Street, Platoon) chooses instead to focus on the stories of just a handful of locals who suffered as a result the tragedy.

The main protagonists are a group of Port Authority police officers, who arrive shortly after the airliners’ impact. The buildings are still standing, but on fire many floors up. Chaos reigns. Unsure how to even begin to comprehend the carnage they discover, they begin evacuating victims, and prepare to scale the towers. When the buildings ultimately fall, the group's in an underground shopping mall beneath them. Miraculously three of the men survive the collapse by diving into a stairwell. However, once the dust settles they’re trapped beneath the towers’ endless sea of rubble. Their families don’t know whether they’ve survived or not, only that the men were at the scene (and maybe inside) when the buildings came down. Like the rest of us at the time, the families are tortured by conflicting media reports, and sometimes contradictory and incomplete government press conferences.

A lesser storyline documents an ex-marine (Michael Shannon; Take Shelter, HBO's prohibition-crime drama Boardwalk Empire, Revolutionary Road) who, after seeing media coverage, decides to don his old uniform and head down to ground zero. He’s not sure how, but hopes he might be able to help.

The bulk of the film takes place in conversations between police chief McLoughlin (Nicolas Cage; H.I. in Raising Arizona, Matchstick Men, the Weather Man, Face/Off, the Rock) and Jimeno (Michael Pena; Academy-Award winning Crash, the crackling End of Watch, Oscar-nominated American Hustle, and the hysterical HBO comedy Eastbound and Down). They try to keep each other's spirits up, and stay alive while buried beneath tons of twisted metal and concrete. Badly injured and located several yards below the surface, it seems impossible they’ll ever be found.

WTC is undeniably emotionally powerful. Watching the two men suffer against immeasurable odds, is gripping. The lengths to which the rescue workers go to save them is life affirming. The families’ rollercoaster of alternating hope and despair is excruciating/agonizing. I was moved by several scenes, especially those with McLoughlin’s wife Donna (Maria Bello; the Cooler, A History of Violence, Auto Focus, Thank You for Smoking).

That said, most of the film is a fairly standard melodrama. Men trapped in life-threatening situations, and their families fear of the worst, is fare we’ve seen countless times before. The enormity of the 9/11 incident isn’t matched by the film’s scope. It’s somehow diminished by reducing it to the story of two men and their immediate families. Not that their suffering isn’t worth something, but this was an event that affected the entire globe.

The scenes of the towers’ crumbling are incredibly tense, realistic and accomplished filmmaking. They’re as violent, frightening and believable as anything in this year’s Academy Award-winning Gravity. It’s difficult to imagine what being there might have been like, but the film makers do an impressive job of re-creating the unimaginable. The images director Stone and his special- and visual-effects teams created are an impressive technical achievement.

Art director (Richard L. Johnson) and production designer (Jan Roelfs) merit mention. The live-action sets for “the pile” are terrifically expansive and realistic. The DVD extras, which describe how the sets (as well as the computer and visual effects) were created, are nearly as interesting as the movie itself.

WTC is certainly worth seeing. It’s not Stone's best work, but it is riveting, powerful stuff. His camera takes us inside the crevices beneath the towers’ shattered remains. To its credit, the film doesn’t trivialize 9/11 by using it solely as a vehicle for entertainment. It’s about the emotions left behind by the aftermath, more than terrorism. Likewise, it doesn’t traffic in politics, either. No mention is made of al Qaeda, President Bush, blowback, or failures of the intelligence community. It’s about a few individuals whose lives were directly affected by that dreadful day.

Saturday, March 29, 2014

The Brothers Bloom (2008)

"Pick a card..."

At one point during the delightfully charming and unfortunately little-noticed The Brothers Bloom, one of its characters says "A picture is a secret about a secret. The more it tells, the less you know." Her insightful ekphrasis is actually a quote by acclaimed American photographer Diane Arbus. It sums up this ingenious film perfectly.

The movie stars Oscar winner Adrien Brody (The Pianist, Hollywoodland, Liberty Heights) and Mark Ruffalo (You Can Count on Me, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Collateral) as the eponymous Brothers. They’re con men from way back. And I mean way back: they started as elementary-school kids, swindling money from parents of other kids by concocting an intricate scheme to get the children muddy, just to benefit a dry cleaner.

Ruffalo is Stephen, the idea man. He dreams up the unimaginably complicated blueprints for their schemes, and will go to great lengths to pull them off. About his devotion to the plans, his brother says “he writes cons the way dead Russians write novels, with thematic arcs and embedded symbolism, and shit.” To Stephan, his cons are literally works of art. They’re also a way to escape the mundane existence of day-to-day life. He believes “the perfect con is one where everyone involved gets just what they wanted.”

Brody plays Bloom, the idealist of the pair. He dutifully plays his role in their swindles, but is suffering a bit of an existential crisis. He long for something more. Something that’s not illusory and fleeting. Something real, stable and permanent.

The third member of the team is a charismatic and mysterious Japanese demolition expert, known alternately as Ying Ling (like the beer?), but mostly as “Bang Bang.” She’s played by Rinko Kikuchi (Babel, Pacific Rim). She rarely speaks, choosing instead to communicate almost exclusively through gestures, facial expressions, reactions and her explosions.

The Brothers hatch a plan for one last, big heist. It involves conning a rich, reclusive, beautiful young woman called Penelope (the lovely and talented Rachel Weisz from The Shape of Things, The Constant Gardner, The Whistleblower). She lives alone in an enormous mansion, battling her loneliness by “collecting hobbies.” She’s a photographer, juggler, skateboarder, rapper, and can ride a unicycle. She’s also endlessly trusting, kind, forgiving, and more than a little naïve. In short, the perfect mark for a con artist.

As the Brothers set about separating her from her fortune with their latest ruse, a funny thing happens along the way. During its execution, Bloom starts to wonder if lines are blurring. Is he’s simply playing his prescribed role, or actually starting to empathize with, and develop honest feelings for, Penelope? There’s the rub.

Director Rian Johnson lists The Sting as one of his chief inspirations. When you see Bloom, you’ll understand why. There are set-ups and distractions here that closely recall the Newman/Redford classic. Only here, we’re not sure if the swindlers are conning only their marks, each other, or unwittingly themselves, all at the same time.

Bloom also reminded me of another Redford film I much admire, the inventive Sneakers. Like that film, Bloom never quite tips its hand. We’re not sure about the motivations and allegiances of its characters. Which only adds to the mystery and fun.

Johnson’s writing in The Brothers Bloom is particularly sharp. There are too many references (self and otherwise) to count. Even the music has relevance. In addition to having crafted an endlessly creative story, Johnson’s characters her have razor-sharp wit, and each thinks incredibly quick on their feet. They’re all fully developed, individually different, and fascinating.  

The film is sumptuous looking, through and through. Its costumes are luxurious. The settings exotic and magnificent. The color palette is rich and saturated. There are interesting title-card scenes, where subtle animation blends seamlessly back in to live action. The cons are minutely detailed and elaborate. Everything about Bloom suggests wealth, cunning and intrigue. It’s plot is inventive and clever, sometimes to the point of confusion. But it’s always performing with a nod-and-a-wink. It knows it’s being precocious and audacious, and it knows that you know, too.

What separates Bloom from other enjoyable heist films (like David Mamet’s estimable The Heist, as well as Soderbergh’s Ocean’s movies), and the primary reason the film’s successful, is that the characters here care about each other. They’re not merely self absorbed crooks, worried only about how much the plan’s successful execution will benefit them. Stephen’s and Bloom’s fraternal bond feels real. Despite all the deceit and double crosses, somewhere deep down they sincerely care about one another. Their mutual affection grounds an otherwise dizzying storyline.


I’ve seen this film several times (the first at the Boston Independent Film Festival, where director spoke afterwards), and am still not positive about what happens, exactly. I think I might know, but I’m not certain. Because it’s about a con within a con within a con within a con, it’s like those nested Russian dolls. Every time you think you have a handle on what’s happening, that notion’s turned on its head. Every time you think you have it figured out, the filmmakers are three steps ahead, and have not only already diverted your attention with several other plausible explanations, but they’ve also worked out several other different paths they could send you down. You think “…well, maybe this person’s doing this, and they’re going to end up here…”. But you’re wrong. What’s actually honestly-and-truly happening is rarely apparent on the surface. Like The Usual Suspects, it plays its cards beneath its vest. It enjoys letting the audience think it knows where its headed, then pulls the rug out from under us. When you go back to consider what might’ve actually happened, it makes you wonder “was any of it real?” The Brothers Bloom is the kind of film where exactly nothing is as it appears. It’s like a spinning hall of mirrors, full of strobe lights. All is deception and convincing sleight of hand. Sometimes it’s great fun to get tricked. The truth is what's going on inside Brody's character's heart.

Monday, March 24, 2014

Jack Goes Boating (2010)

Gone too soon

In light of Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s recent death, I went back and watched his directorial debut Jack Goes Boating. I’m glad I did. It’s fairly straightforward yet insightful, touching, honest movie, about the difficulties in finding and maintaining romantic relationships. I liked it very much, though it left me saddened. I wish he were still around.

I’d never seen Jack before, but have vague memories of NPR talking about it when it was released. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but figured if nothing else I’d enjoy Hoffman’s dynamic performance. He’s one of my favorite actors. His roles in Magnolia, Capote, Synecdoche, Scent of a Woman, Doubt and the Master are diverse, nuanced, affecting and always interesting. What I found in Jack was a calm (almost quiet) film about a frumpy, awkward guy, struggling to find emotional connection.

The movie’s based on a play by the same name, written by Robert Glaudini. Hoffman plays Jack, a limo driver. He wears ill-fitting clothes, a winter hat year round, and listens to reggae music because of its “positive vibe.” Most of the time he looks disheveled, but cleans up OK for work. Fellow driver Clyde (John Ortiz; Silver Linings Playbook, Public Enemies) is his buddy. He likes Jack, maybe more than Jack likes himself.

Clyde and his wife Lucy (Daphne Rubin-Vega) invite Jack over to dinner. It’s a blind-date set-up with her equally shy co-worker Connie (the Wire’s terrific Amy Ryan; Win Win, Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead, Gone Baby Gone, Green Zone). Connie works as a salesperson for a mortuary, perhaps the world’s least-sexy job ever.

Though mutually reluctant, the two seem to hit it off (at least as much as they’ll allow themselves). Afterwards, on a walk home through snowy NY streets, the pair make stilted conversation. He clumsily invites her to go boating in Central Park, once spring arrives. She excitedly accepts. It’s not until after plans are made that he realizes he doesn't even know how to swim. But if it means winning Connie over, Jack’s willing to learn.

Later, after a mugging on the subway lands Connie in the hospital, Jack visits her. Though they still don’t know each other very well, she’s touched by his sweetness. He’s kind and genuine, qualities she’s not used to finding in men. He wants to cook her dinner, because she says no one’s ever done that for her before. Only he doesn’t know how to cook, either. Another skill to acquire.

The film’s second storyline is about Clyde and Lucy’s troubled relationship. They’ve suffered infidelity issues in the past which, as much as he wants to, Clyde’s unable to let go and get past. He copes by recreational drug use and alcohol. Because of this Lucy doesn’t respect him. There’s a smoldering distance between them, because of the emotionally injury that hasn’t healed. Seeing this, Jack becomes more doubtful about his chances with Connie. The eternal question: should he take the leap and risk rejection with Connie, or remain lonely in his safe, isolated little world?

This description may sound like not much happens. Perhaps not much does? But that’s not the point. The film’s about two couples: one struggling to gain its feet, the other struggling just to hang on. It captures perfectly the awkward silences and deafening nervousness between Jack and Connie, as well as the familiar fights between Lucy and Clyde. Like most people getting to know each other, Jack and Connie are at once hesitant, and overly-eager. Lucy and Clyde are familiar enough to know exactly where the other’s weak spots are.

Jack Goes Boating feels like a play. Most of it takes place in just a few places: tiny apartments, inside cars, hospital rooms. The action is in the dialogue and reactions of its actors. The small cast is pitch perfect, especially Hoffman. He struggles to hold it together hoping to impress Connie, despite his nervousness and insecurity. Each character has their particular quirks, charms and neuroses. The film won’t blow you away, but it's not trying to. What it does is leave a lasting sense of contentment and hope. It’s too bad the world won’t get to see more of the conspicuous talents Hoffman had to offer.