Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts

Thursday, 28 July 2011

I've been remiss about some of the running features on the blog and it’s been some time since I delivered on an episode of The Spinoff – wherein I find ideas for sequels (prequels, spin-offs – you name it) more inspired than what Hollywood is tossing out. Of course, in Hollywood’s defence that’s not a difficult task when the most recent sequel in production is Ghost Rider, but I digress.


CS actually had a post a few weeks ago about knowing when to keep supporting characters supportive so I should probably tread lightly in the resuscitating of the feature. But, I’m starting with a kick-ass supporting character – Matron Mama Morton from Chicago as played by Queen Latifah. Chicago was a major high in 2002, what with its 13 Oscar nominees and whatnot. And, sometimes people remember Queen Latifah’s nod as one of those coaster nominations but I think that’s a bit of an underestimation of the work she does. But, this post isn’t about her specifically – it’s about Mama.
Chicago runs amok with interesting characters on the side-lines, and Mama Morton’s number is one of those pseudo-biographical musical numbers (I am ---, and so on) and it’s not just a significant number for the double entendre moments. I do wonder if Marshall and Condon were being anachronistic when they cast a black woman as a prison matron in the twenties, but wouldn’t that be an interesting (non-musical) story to tell? Just imagine all the hijinks she could get herself caught up in. Hollywood has been known to make money off ass kicking females, although Mama Morton’s brand of justice probably won’t be very altruistic. I’ve got faith in Queen Latifah, but I’m tempted to bring in Viola Davis for the spin-off. And who better than Martin Scorsese to direct? He knows his gritty crime dramas - and yes, Mama's tale is going to be a gritty crime drama, and Alfre Woodard will show up to play her mother.
        
Would you watch this spin-off? How would you rate it as against Hollywood’s own sequel ideas?

Tuesday, 14 June 2011

"Uh-uh! Not guilty!"

Monday, 25 April 2011

I’ll just come right out and say it – I like Renee Zellweger in Cold Mountain. I don’t like to make excessive use of the superlative, but this is probably the most hated Oscar win of the last decade and with it Zellweger has turned into arguably one of the most loathed Oscar winners of all time – which is a shame because she’s a fine actress, and a talented comedienne. Sure, she’s not my favourite actress – or anywhere especially near, but as it’s her birthday now is as good a time as any to count down my five favourite performances of hers.

Dorothy Boyd in Jerry Maguire (1996)

“This is an occasion for genuinely tiny knickers.”
 Being a romantic/comedy lead is something that seems less than impressive but even though it’s Cuba and Tom who were nominated Renee’s Dorothy is imperative to this one. It’s such a sweet performance (no other words come to mind) and overflows with honesty, which is important to measure of protagonist against. Without her, it would be difficult to love Jerry as much.
         
Bridget Jones in Bridget Jones’s Diary
“ I just want to be inspired.”
It’s her first Oscar nominated role, and it’s become a little less prestigious because of that sequel but the whimsy humour of this one is irresistible. No, it’s not Pride & Prejudice (regardless of what they say) but it’s funny enough and Renee sells it all – the insecurity, the accent and the humour.

Barbara Novak in Down With Love
“This is Barbara Novak.”
This remains as one of the most hilarious romps of the decades. McGregor and Kidman had Moulin Rouge, Zellweger and he have this – and sure, this might not be as great as Moulin Rouge, but it features excellent work from the two leads – especially Renee. She manages to pull off the film’s less than stellar portions (remember that revelation monologue?) and she pulls it all off with a great amount of charm that a number of actors wouldn’t have been able to accomplish.

Mae Braddock in Cinderella Man
“Every time you get hit, it feels like I'm getting hit too.”
In a smack-down, I’d be more willing to support this Crow/Howard film than A Beautiful Mind and it’s a shame it was such a miss with the awards’ bodies. I’d have nominated Zellweger’s excellent turn as wife of boxer Jim Braddock. There’s real potential for this role to turn mawkish, but Zellweger avoids it. It easily triumphs as the strongest dramatic work I’ve seen her do – it’s a shame so few remember this one.

Roxie Hart in Chicago
“He loves me so, that funny honey of mine...”
I don’t understand when persons lament the potentials who Renee won the role from (Colette, Theron) – perhaps they might have been good, but it’s folly to deny that Renee was excellent here. Catherine uses her voice to sell Velma and Renee uses her excellent comedic timing to good use. It’s a tricky character, but Renee sells it excellently. Sure, she wasn’t my favourite of the lot – but I do love the performance nonetheless.
        
To celebrate Renee's birthday, which performance would you rewatch?

Monday, 15 November 2010

I hope that whoever directs the Oscars next year doesn’t take any tips from Adam Shankman. It’s not that the ceremony was atrocious, it was just underwhelming and months after the fact I still can’t believe had the gall to cut the live performances of the nominated songs. I’m certain seeing Marion Cotillard and Anika Noni Rose live would have made up for the otherwise dull ceremony. And to think, if all of the show’s directors were like him we’d never had had a moment like this in 2003.

That’s kind of brilliant, no?

Wednesday, 14 July 2010

Screenplays are different from the actual films they precipitate. Quite often the screenplay ends up being my favourite of a film. It all begins with the screenplay really – here are the ones that I remember most clearly from the last decade.
Runners Up: (Alpha): Big Fish* – adapted (2003); Bright Star* – original (2009); Brokeback Mountain – adapted (2005); The Constant Gardener – adapted (2005); Corpse Bride* – original (2005); The Fantastic Mr. Fox – adapted (2009); In the Loop – adapted (2009); Little Miss Sunshine  – original (2006); Mean Girls* – adapted (2004); (2009); The Others* – original (2001)
       
#15: A History of Violence (2005), adaptation by Josh Olson
Richie Cusack: “So you like that farm life? Milking cows and shit?”
Tom Stall: “I don't have a farm.”
Richie Cusack: [chuckling] “No? Fogarty thought you lived on some kind of farm. Said you could smell pig. How that old fart would know what a pig smells like, I don't know, but that's what he said.”
Visceral is not a word I find myself using often, but it’s the one that comes to mind immediately when I think of A History of Violence. It approaches an issue – a character with two sensibilities – in a manner that’s unorthodox and also quite sanguine. Its aim is not to shock, at least not unwarrantedly. In approaching the concept with such smoothness Tom Stall becomes a symbol for any man.
     
#14: Chicago (2002), adaptation by Bill Condon
Billy: “When she returns, she gently wakes up Harry. Harry says, "What? I'm alone." She says, "Alone? You got two other women in bed with you ." So, get this. Harry says, Come on , doll . You gonna believe what you see or what I tell you?”
Marshall is not credited, though a significant amount of the idea emanates from him. Still, Condon does excellent here. He doesn’t get overwhelmed by Ebb and Kander’s standards and forget to make sure they’re resting on a dependable set of words. He raises the standard ensuring that the every scene exists as it should and the spoken scenes succeed as much as the musical ones.
        
#13: You Can Count on Me (2000), originated by Kenneth Lonergan
Terry: “Where are we going?”
Sammy: “To pick up Rudy.”
Terry: “What, do you not even want me to come visit now?”
Sammy: “Of course I want you to visit, you idiot! I've been looking forward to seeing you from the moment I got your letter, I told everyone in town that you were coming home, I cleaned the whole fucking house just so it would look nice for you! I had no idea you were just broke again! I wish you'd just send me an invoice!”
A bitingly realistic and poignant look at filial love, it’s easy to forget and just see the excellent work being done by Ruffalo and Linney. Longergan crafts his screenplay with a surprising lack of pretentiousness, and even when we might hope for something a little more “movie-like” she’s careful to ensure that her characters are acting in keeping with the world he’s created for them.

#12: Babel (2006), originated by Guillermo Arriaga
Yussef: “I killed the American, I was the only one who shot at you. They did nothing... nothing. Kill me, but save my brother, he did nothing... nothing. Save my brother... he did nothing. ”
It’s simple to ignore because of Crash, which it’s mistakenly seen as a derivative of. It does tend to get a little bit too heavy-handed when delving into its symbolism but I forgive a few of its occasional missteps because in the greater realm of things I do treasure its ultimate result. The balancing between the three narratives is handled gracefully; and the message though obvious is not less profound for it.

#11: Traffic (2000), adapted by Stephen Gaghan
Caroline: “On the good days, I feel like I get it, like it all makes sense. I can stay in the moment, I don't have to control everything in the future, and I believe everything is gonna work out fine. On the bad days I just want to grab the phone and start dialing numbers. I want to pull my hair and run through the streets screaming. But thanks to the people I've met in these rooms, like Margaret and Jim and Sarah, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna make it through today.” 
Another massive ensemble drama, Traffic depends significantly on its screenplay. It's riveting and it flies by, but it's also incredibly smart. Gaghan has an ear for dialogue, especially topical dialogue, and the script serves as an excellent appraisal of current affairs.
     
#10: Erin Brockovich (2000), originated by Susannah Grant
Erin: “I've been working, that is all I have been doing, what am I supposed to do check in with you every two seconds?” 
Brenda: “Yes, it's called accountability and...” 
Erin: “I'm not talking to you, bitch!”
Brenda: “Excuse me?” 
Erin: “Get out of my face!”
This is another one that’s often overlooked. Grant takes a concept that’s almost pedestrian – the hardworking heroine against the world – and creates a screenplay that’s uncluttered and not at all condescending. We forget at times that at the end of the day this film is ultimately a legal drama, because Grant is willing to touch on more than just a single issue in her script.
    
#9: An Education (2009), adaptation by Nick Hornby
Helen: We should go shopping together one day, if you want.
Jenny: That would be nice. But South Ken, C'est beaucoup trop cher pour moi.
[Pause]
Helen: Sorry?
Jenny: I just said...It was too expensive for me.
Helen: No you didn't. You said something completely different.
Hornby has the admirable ability to push a host of ideas into a particularly short screenplay. Moreover, though it ostensibly focuses on something as singular as a girl’s “coming-of-age” each character, regardless of their relative importance, speaks words that are completely their own.

#8: Match Point (2005), originated by Woody Allen
Chris: “The man who said "I'd rather be lucky than good" saw deeply into life. People are afraid to face how great a part of life is dependent on luck. It's scary to think so much is out of one's control. There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net, and for a split second, it can either go forward or fall back. With a little luck, it goes forward, and you win. Or maybe it doesn't, and you lose.” 
On the surface it’s just Woody Allen’s perverse take on a classic tale, but underneath it’s a thoroughly original and almost subversive take on people in the world. It stings as much as it amuses and when you think it’s a trifle there’s always something deeper lurking below – if you’re willing to look closer.
      
#7: The Departed (2006), adaptation by William Monahan
Uncle Ed: “Are you trying to prove something to the family?”
Billy Costigan: “When you say "the family," who do mean exactly? You?”
Uncle Ed: “You always have to question everything, don't you?”
Billy Costigan: “Maybe it would have done you some good to have some *questions* from time to time, you know? Am I an asshole? Are my kids a mess? Is my wife a money-grubbing whore? I mean, those are questions, right? Have I ever been good to my dying sister or am I just now pretending to be?”
Monahan’s adaptation of the Asian drama is a beast of its own. Complete with little character idiosyncrasies that are all his Monahan’s piece is completely original – adaptation or not. The world he creates is probably fabricated but everything that occurs is rendered believable simply because of the sameness throughout the narrative.

#6: Burn After Reading* (2008), originated by Ethan and Joel Coen
Osbourne: “And you're my wife's lover?”
Ted: [shaking his head] “No.”
Osbourne: “Then what are you doing here? [pause] I know you. You're the guy from the gym.”
Ted: “I'm not here representing HardBodies.”
Osbourne: “Oh, yes. I know very well what you represent. [pause] You represent the idiocy of today. ”
This remains as one of the most inventive comedies of the decade, and the script is one of the decade’s best. The entire thing is permeated with a glorious amount of irreverence that doesn’t stop the harsh truths in the screenplay from being seen. It’s the very fact that it doesn’t take itself too seriously though, not caring to sentimentalise any of its characters.

#5: Atonement (2007), adaptation by Christopher Hampton
Robbie: “Dearest Cecilia, the story can resume. The one I had been planning on that evening walk. I can become again the man who once crossed the surrey park at dusk, in my best suit, swaggering on the promise of life. The man who, with the clarity of passion, made love to you in the library. The story can resume. I will return. Find you, love you, marry you and live without shame.”
Not as piercing as his work on Dangerous Liaisons, but done with the same amount of astonishing brevity. Like any such adaptation the script is littered with bits of symbolism here and there, and it must have been a task creating a screenplay from McEwan’s impressive novel. He doesn’t quake at the challenge, though, and the story works well on its own.
       
#4: The Hours (2003), adaptation by David Hare
Laura: “It would be wonderful to say you regretted it. It would be easy. But what does it mean? What does it mean to regret when you have no choice? It's what you can bear. There it is. No one's going to forgive me. It was death. I chose life.”
I’ve not read Cunningham’s novel, though I’ve read extensive biographies on Woolf and Mrs. Dalloway. The screenplay exists seamlessly; there are three women but it is one story. Oddly, it never becomes too “talky”, the dialogue is never obtrusive. Instead everything flows together in beautiful subtlety.

#3: Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead* (2007), originated by Kelly Masterson
Gina: “When are you going to grow up, Hank? We have a really good thing going, and you should just enjoy it. We have a really good time in bed. I don't ask for anything.”
Hank: “I love you. I want more.”
Gina: “So does Oliver Twist.” 
Masterson’s script is discordant, but that's the beauty of it. Such a tale could easily have become a message film, instea she turns it into a nuanced character study giving every character their pivotal moment – and ensuring that plot points that occur are readdressed. She refuses to conform to the norm creating a world that is completely hers.
     
#2: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), originated Charlie Kauffman with Michael Gondry
Joel: “I can't see anything that I don't like about you.”
Clementine: “But you will! But you will. You know, you will think of things. And I'll get bored with you and feel trapped because that's what happens with me.”
Joel: “Okay.”
Clementine: [pauses] “Okay. ”
It’s an obvious choice, but deservedly so. It is a work that’s strikingly original even though the issues are ones we know all too well. Ostensibly it seems to be science fiction, but that solitary plot point is just that, and the issues addressed are done so with some of the most perceptive and smart comedic writing.

#1: Gosford Park (2001), originated by Julian Fellowes with Robert Altman
Sylvia: “Where's that wretched Mabel.”
Aunt Constance: “Has anyone checked her outfit? She's probably in black velvet with a feather in her hair.”
Lavinia: “She's in the morning room looking perfectly normal. Don't be such a snob aunt Constance.”
Aunt Constance: “Me? I haven't a snobish bone in my body.”
So subtle and yet so intense, addressing serious issues and yet so hilarious it’s a choice that comes easily – almost too easily. The ensemble drama gives the writer much ground to cover, and Fellowes does it with aplomb. He travels upstairs, downstairs and back again – but never tries too hard. Character development is vivid, but sometimes subtle we need to look (and listen) carefully…and just when you think you can put it in a box, he’s waiting to add something to new. Perfect.
     
Twelve originals and thirteen adaptations make up my twenty favourite screenplays. The ones with asterisks (seven) were, unfortunately, ignored by the Academy.
     
Which screenplay from the last decade would you want to take credit for?

Monday, 19 April 2010

I think I can say I've done my duty in recapping the decade. I've done a number of entries dedicated to the decade in review. I'm sure there's some miscellaneous category, but if it comes to me I'll let you know. I think it's time for me to stop looking back before I turn into a pillar of salt, and I suppose that the logical conclusion is to sum it up with the best films of the decade. But, you know me - always atypical, so I'm not recapping film quality, but acting quality. What were the films this past decade with the best ensembles? It's a question that always triggers me thoughts (I did the same for the nineties). So with no explanations I list the 30 best film ensembles of the decade -with a few runners up. Let me remind you, this is not a list of the best films. It's a list of the ensembles that I think were best - the most collectively good performances, the best chemistry among actors, the most talented....
          
Runners Up (alpha): The Constant Gardener, Closer, Dreamgirls, Erin Brockovich, In the Bedroom, In the Loop, King Kong, The Messenger, The Reader, Sweeney Todd

Tier Five
 
                      
Tier Four
  
           
Tier Three
 
             
Tier Two
 

Tier One

The Greatest Ensemble of the Decade
                                              
I'd expect that fans of certains films are foaming at the mouth, so do your worst and tell me where I went wrong. What's missing from the list, what should be missing...what are your thoughts on the top choice?

Sunday, 18 April 2010

I’ve spoken enthusiastically about Chicago and about Catherine Zeta Jones in it before, and always my thoughts go to a particular scene in the film. I often refer to it as my favourite scene in the film, but the entire film is excellent – so I can’t be certain. Velma is at her wits’ end and knows that Roxie is taking so she goes to make her plea for a collaborative effort. It’s already funny because we’ve only just heard her tell Mama Morton that she would only suck up to Roxie “over her dead body”.
          
I love how she comes in so sanguine.
Mind if I join you? She's not being overconfident.She knows very well that Roxie does mind, but she's being the ultimate diva and ensuring that we never see her sweat. Then she takes out the box, oh so incidentally. Am I the only one who thinks that Velma probably confiscated the box of chocolates? Its seems like just the sort of thing she'd do, then go into her lie:
Look what some Johnny sent me. Triple cream caramels all the way from San Francisco. 
             

Roxie’s cold demeanour throws her though, even as she tries and tries to cajole mentioning her double act with her dead sister. I love her slight looks of fear like this one as she prepares for her “Act of Desperation”.  She's worried, and it's the first time we're seeing it.
 As she goes into the prelude for the number this particular short always amuses me.
Is that faux cheerfulness just for Roxie's behalf, is she imagining this double act with Roxie or remembering her departed sister? She starts out her number in typical diva fashion and I love how the camera cuts to Roxie’s bored face.
Say what you want about Renee, but she knows to sell her emotions with her face and doesn't she look so innocent in that costume? Nothing like the snake underneath. But back to Cathy, she attacks the number with fervour she's even frantic; just look at the shot below.
 It’s amazing watching her do her thing though,and I especially love the part where the music shifts into the Egyptian beats.
Cinematographer Dion Beebe makes her look so very good. It was an excellent year for the category, but damn I wish he'd taken it home. I heard a detractor comment that Catherine's height makes the scene awkaward, but I think it's her svelteness that makes her look so enticing, especially on that table.
Even Roxie isn't able to be completely stoic. Catherine ends the first part with aplomb, even if Roxie does shoot her efforts down.
 Pbbbbbt
But it's a good thing Roxie's a sceptic, because it leads into the very excellent part 2 of the dance.
She'd go...
The chair dance is something special, Velma/Catherine really is a talented lady and all the technical elements come together so well. I don't know who to thank most for this shot: Catherine (dancer), Rob (choreographer) or Dion (cinematographer).
See, how even Roxie's impressed by it all.

 
 As she climbs the steps to complete the number I'm amazed at how in character she stays - singing, dancing, acting and emoting. The number's getting more frenzied by the second.
 Here's a few partin' shots..
 
 
 The above shot really puts into perspective just how much dedication she put into this: no stunt doubles...and then the slide down the pole...
 
I love how the number ends with the shots of her face.
I like the first because because you can see how into it she is as she sings that final note, but the second one with the look of desperation is so poignant. Knowing how smart Velma was she probably knew that Roxie was not going to take her up on the offer... but what a thrill ride it was watching her plead her case.

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