The Oscars

A good article on movies and the Oscars. (Link)

And another. (Link)

The King's Speech - Tim

As a Republican (in the European, not the US-American diction), I have the right to remain skeptic regarding a medium that in any way glorifies a member of a royal, or merely blue-blooded family. My fear that this would happen in the case of The King's Speech was quickly eased when I realised this is not a film about a great man, but about a terrified, insecure, all to human man who happens to become King of one fifth of the world's population. When King Edward VIII (Guy Pearce) accuses his brother Albert (Colin Firth) of wanting to replace him, he could not be further from the truth. "Bertie", who has stammered for as long as he can remember, is terrified of speaking in public. If he cannot even suppress his stammering when he is telling his daughters a story, how is he supposed to give a speech in front of thousands. The recent invention of radio even increases that number to millions of listeners worldwide. With the same reluctance with which he became king in the first place, Bertie agrees to a speech therapy with Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush) who has the audacity to suggest that for the duration of the therapy, the two men must treat each other as equals.

It is very hard to find flaws in The King's Speech. A historian might find some inaccuracies, but then the film is less about the life of King George VI - though an intriguing story this is. It is about friendship, sibling rivalry and conquering one's fears. It is about being pushed into a role that one never wanted. It is about feelings that transcend social classes. At its heart lie two central performances that are up for Oscars - and have every right to be. Colin Firth manages to harness the viewer's unreserved sympathy - and pity. Even though Geoffrey Rush doesn't have the possibility to individuate as much as Firth, he absolutely convinces us that this is an actual person he's playing: A teacher, a husband, a father. Beware, this is a tearjerker in the fashion of Shawshank Redemption. And like the latter, it shows that friendship can and must prevail even in the most unlikely circumstances.

An Evening at the Nelly - JAK

The Nelly Carmicheal Theatre--as you all already know--began as a high-class bordello in the rough and tumble streets of 1920s Boston. In 1927, the bordello had fallen on hard times, and in a desperate bid to save her establishment, the eponymous proprietor bought a single, silver screen and turned her girls to ticket taking and popcorn peddling. The gamble paid off, and the opening night Valentine’s Day feature of The Dancing Cavalier was the talk of the town.

The present day “Nelly” keeps to the same high-standard set by Madame Carmichael and her girls, with last night’s The Fallen Idol being no exception.

Fallen Idol: (Full disclosure: I slept during the last third of this movie), A must-see movie that sustains edge-of-your-seat suspense up until the last frame. When I awoke to find "THE END" etched into the screen, my friend told me that the scenes leading up to "THE END" had been masterfully done. From what I had seen in the first 2/3rds and from what I know about the film's creators, I have 0 doubt. First of all, this was a screenplay written by the great Graham Greene. Second of all, this was a collaboration with the great director, Carol Reed. The other collaboration between these two was The Third Man: one of the greatest films ever made. So, this story, of a diplomat's son who possibly witnesses a heinous act by his beloved butler, does not disappoint. We see the Butler's story unfold from the child's point of view, and understand his confusion at being thrust into the heart of messy, human relationships and intrigue. Idols may fall through no fault of their own, and an innocence lost can never be reclaimed...I think, from what my roommate told me.

Endless Summer - Rob Culpepper

For some people, myself included, winter is a really nice time of year. Of course, I live in the South (in the US), and the weather is generally mild. Most winters we have a few weeks of sub-freezing temps, and this year's came last week. (We still have snow on the ground in spots that don't get much sun.) So we, for a brief time, hunker down like our countrymen up north, and like those around the world who are snowed in regularly. Having stocked up on bread and milk (mainly because that is traditionally what we stock up on when snow threatens), we brace for a few days inside. That usually means movies for me, and I was feeling warmer weather and sunny days....

Endless Summer is a classic documentary about two surfers who travel around the world chasing the summer. The idea is that if you had enough money you could always surf in warm water under warm skies. The film is shot, edited, and narrated by Bruce Brown who does a really great job telling a story that could otherwise be supremely boring. He's got a sharp wit and really keeps things moving. My favorite part of the film was when, in Ghana, the two surfers teach a tribe of Africans how to surf. Also, the discussion of women's swim wear in Australia. Other spots they visit include South Africa, New Zealand, Tahiti, Hawaii, and Cali. Lots of great surf is covered, and you don't have to know anything about surfing to enjoy the cinematography, the humor, the scenery, the people, and the 1960s. The world was such a different (innocent? undiscovered?) place that the film is just as much of a time capsule as a surf movie. It'll make you want to travel, and definitely see the sea, and maybe try your skill at some waves.

So if you're hunkered down, waiting out the winter, Netflix that shiz. It's on Instant.

Blue Valentine - James King

Not a date movie.

There were few milestones on the road to Dean and Cindy’s breakup, only a long stretch of bumpy road wearing their relationship to broken down. This movie is mercilessly honest (no’you had me at hellos’ or ‘I love you Shopgirls’) ; and to understand the wreck of their relationship, or any relationship for that matter, your only evidence lies in the accumulation of small parts.

Where other movies explain the death of a relationship through the affair or the violent confrontation, Blue Valentine shows it in the countless little arguments, the weary looks, the palpable, unsaid, mutual disappointment. They both had expected so much more. What went wrong? Can they make it alright again?

In answer to these difficult, maybe unanswerable questions, the film exhibits the relationship at face value—the early, good moments inter cut with the later, painful moments, cohering into a whole, walking, talking relationship. But we know, as the characters themselves know, that this thing is doomed. The fact that neither of them can walk away until their relationship is dragged out to the last agonizing detail, is a testament to the thrill and poetry of their initial love.

Juxtaposing those early, beautiful moments (to some NC-17 beautiful) with the later gut-wrenchers creates the sense of watching two sets of Cindy and Deans—same people, at oppositional points in their lives, occupying the same space. Kind of like watching somebody get a root canal and a puppy at the same time.

Gossling in particular is all future and charm and poetic gazes into the New York distance as a young man and all angry and sad and sunken behind dark-tinted glasses as an older, young man. What makes this movie great is that there are shades of dark in the early character (charming aimlessness) and specks of light in the later character (any scene with his daughter).

It makes one wonder, in that climactic gut-wrenchingest of gut-wrenching scenes, whether the best and worst moments of a life don’t linger at the poles but rather circle and commingle, each bearing witness to the other.

Not a date movie. But a great movie, movie.