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Saturday, 31 July 2010
Friday, 30 July 2010
For some reason I always find myself going easy on Nancy Meyer, and if I trace the reason I’d probably end up at Something’s Gotta Give - a film I’d easily place somewhere in my top ten of 2003. The thing is – I often feel as if I’m alone when it comes to appreciating the somewhat atypical romantic comedy. In retrospect Something’s Gotta Give’s sleight of hand (focusing on the mother of the romantic heroine instead of said presumed heroine) is not as inventive as it likes to think, but I’m damned if I don’t find it fresh and enjoyable nonetheless. A young woman brings home an older man and due to medical problems her mother ends up looking after him. The ending is probably obvious from the inception, but no matter - Something’s Gotta Give still has a whole lot to give (weak pun, I agree).
It seems like a non-argument to lament on it, but it’s a rare thing seeing two thespians, both over sixty, helming a film. It’s even less likely to see such a film that is not a drama focusing on inevitable loss of life (or parental woes). A romantic comedy for the aged? Unlikely. What’s more unlike her latest feature, which I just couldn’t love, Something’s Gotta Give doesn’t get its bearings from seeing older folks act like children. Sure, Nicholson’s playboy is still holding on to his youth – but he’s definitely an old chap and of course the always luminous Diane Keaton is wonderful just because she’s so mature. I think I’ve intimated as much before, but Keaton effortlessly stands out as my favourite female performance of 2003. Moreover, I’d find it difficult to say just what makes me so impressed with Keaton’s outing here. She’s a talented comedienne, that much is a given. She’s arguably the best of her era at comedy (even more than Dench and Sarandon and Streep and Mirren), but she’s so often in those horrendous comedies we tend to forget. The odd bits of subtlety in Something’s Gotta Give always surprise, and then Keaton is just doing so much to make her Erica deliciously interesting while still retaining that bit of weirdness.
It doesn’t take a genius to tell you that the third act of Something’s Gotta Give is not as tight as its previous too. Then, there’s just the slight feeling that Meyers solution to all the drama (albeit, comedic drama) is just a little too rote, but I will occasionally let those issues go because of the gusto with which the entire thing is created. Something’s Gotta Give probably started out as a foray in two Oscar greats working alongside each other, but it turns into a one woman show. Sure, Amanda Peet and Frances McDormand offer nice supporting bits, sure Jack Nicholson is surprisingly emotive at times and yes Keanu Reeves is shockingly on par with his cast – but this is all Diane Keaton. From the first shot we’re enamoured with this woman. Meyers is lucky she got such a talent; with her Something’s Gotta Give turns into more than the sum of its parts.
Am I too effusive with praise? What do you think of Keaton and Something’s Gotta Give?
Wednesday, 28 July 2010
I revealed in a meme some time ago that I wrote a paper on three adaptations of “Hamlet” for a writing course. I decided I’d post it, although the 17 page beast was much too much for a blog. And since while you read this I’ll actually be at school, read and enjoy a condensed version of the original paper.
At the height of Shakespeare’s talent (well, so most persons would say) is his 23rd play “Hamlet”. The tragedy about a Danish prince is Shakespeare’s longest play and despite not being as readily popular as his “Romeo & Juliet” it is enthusiastically accredited as his premier work. In addition to being singled out as the pinnacle of Shakespeare’s achievement, the character of Hamlet is unofficially considered to be the greatest dramatic male role – an enviable monogram. This, no doubt, accounts for the affinity that actors, directors and producers have felt in regard to the work on stage and film.
Jude Law in his Tony nominated incarnation of Hamlet
Since the beginning of contemporary cinema in the early 20th century great thought has been placed on the constituents to good adaptations of literature, both drama and otherwise. Oftentimes works have been given the informal title of “unadaptable” but more and more fearless writers have worked against these labels and attempted at adapting great works for the medium of the film. Regardless of their valour however, something is lost when a great literature piece is transferred to cinema. It does not matter how exemplary the adaptation may be on its own their usually is some inadequacy when correlated with the original piece. There is no doubt that something is always lost when a literary work in transferred to the screen, and with the high esteem of “Hamlet” there may be an additional pressure placed on persons intending to adapt. This paper aims at assessing three notable adaptations of the Bard’s crucial play. The three versions in question are Laurence Olivier’s 1948 version, Franco Zeffirelli’s 1990 versions and Kenneth Branagh’s 1996 version. These three adaptations do not represent the gamut of “Hamlet”’s treatment on cinema. However, they are often regarded as the most popular – if not best – of the lot.
To look at each piece for a mere few minutes would immediately unearth the obvious dissimilarities. From its beginning we notice the mysteriousness of Olivier’s piece. There is a potent sense of confinement as the screen is covered in an eerie mist. Olivier’s Hamlet is mostly psychological and as Hamlet feels emotionally confined the film visually matches that with its simultaneous sense of captivity. Zeffirelli’s Hamlet is the stark opposite. The man is Italian, and vibrancy is the main component here as this is a Hamlet that is above all else, particularly physical. The court is lived in and muddy and the clothes are heavy and used. Continuing this visual comparison Branagh’s version probably falls in the middle. The confinement of Olivier is absent but there is not as much exuberance as Zeffirelli’s production.
Ironically, even though I single out the 17 year gap between Branagh’s Hamlet and Opelia, Olivier’s version sports an even more disconcerting gap. At 41 Olivier is the oldest Hamlet, and at 19 Jean Simmons is the youngest Ophelia. The gap here is 22 years. Olivier is older than Hamlet should be, and it shows. But there is a svelte manner in Olivier – an eternal showman, and he looks ten years younger than he is. He would still be too old for Hamlet at 31. But old as he is, I do not doubt the romance there. His Hamlet is undoubtedly too studied, and too (psychologically) mature and though he plays the moodiness of his character effectively it’s not completely as perfect as it could be. From reading, the conflict of Hamlet is his immaturity; this is why he cannot make up his mind. Olivier’s major crutch is that his Hamlet, though broody is far from immature. The ten year gap between Mel Gibson and Helena Bonham Carter in Ziffreli’s 1990 version is the least alarming, and on a purely physical level their romance seems truest. We never are privy to Ophelia and Hamlet’s relationship in good times, but when Hamlet denounces Ophelia there is a definite spark there and I believe – completely – that there was a significant relationship between the two. Gibson is an unlikely Hamlet. He is much more physical and boisterous than either of his peers; it’s not difficult to believe that he has not studied Shakespeare like his counterparts. To his credence, when he speaks Hamlet’s lines though – they are not just mellifluous words of Shakespeare but real words of a real man. However, Gibson lacks that vital emotional connection that such a tragic character demands, and competent as he is I am never completely moved by him. Even though he suggests the youth and boisterousness of Hamlet, he fails to bring any legitimate sense of seriousness and glumness that “Hamlet” demands. Hamlet’s first appearance in the play advocate his distemper; akin to Romeo at the beginning or “Romeo & Juliet”. Olivier triumphs in highlighting this broodiness. Despite his ostensible faults I would champion Olivier as the superior Hamlet. Yes, he is too mature but from a general level taking into account the ranges of the actors Olivier is clearly the one who is closest to Shakespeare’s incarnation, and to the common reader’s perspective on Hamlet.
Whereas Olivier triumphs when it comes to the Hamlets, his Ophelia played by Jean Simmons in an Academy Award nominated role is my least favourite of the Ophelias. I will not deny that Simmons is exceedingly beautiful has moments of charm; her early scenes with Terence Morgan (playing Laertes) are a good showing of filial love. However, she seems so amateurish here she turns Ophelia – already an ostensibly weak character on the page – into a mere trifle. I am never invested in her Ophelia and though she tries hard in those final scenes when Ophelia goes mad I don’t really care. It’s strange when you consider these words of Anderson:
“Jean Simmons makes a wonderful Ophelia (she was also nominated for an Oscar), and outdoes the other three (Helena Bonham Carter, Kate Winslet, and Julia Stiles). For one thing, she’s absolutely stunning. For another, her “mad” Ophelia comes across as glassy-eyed, singsongy and muttering, rather than the screaming, crying interpretations of the recent films. It’s much more tolerable and moving. And her death scene, floating on a stream on a bed of flowers, is both simple and stunning.”
Despite having no part in either of the recent versions I cannot help taking offence to Anderson who seems to have misread the entire character of Ophelia. Certainly he’s accurate in claiming that Simmons is “stunning”. She is. Ophelia, I suppose, should be beautiful. However, he implicitly says that Bonham Carter and Winslet are facially inadequate for the role. Firstly, the proficiency of any actresses’ is more than their looks and Anderson seems to be unfairly prone to conventional beauty of Simmons, who is not definitely the most beautiful of the three. Secondly, and more importantly, what inflections does a mad person make? Certainly, dramatic license may be made since each actress will interpret Ophelia in her own rite, but even as I single out Simmons’s latter scenes as at least capable I cannot completely believe that she has descended completely into craziness. Of course, I am unaware as to the realism of any truly insane person, just as Anderson is. Neither of us can explicitly vow for how Ophelia should behave when she loses her sense, however Simmons at her best seems to be feigning (capably, albeit) her madness. Even though I believe this, I do not doubt that some may be charmed her turn, since like any character interpretation it is all subjective, and unlike Hamlet it is difficult to surmise from the play what her character is explicitly like.
Simmons’ weak Ophelia is in stark contrast to Bonham Carter’s Ophelia. With her expressive eyes Bonham Carter’s Ophelia is charming, even if not as malleable as one would expect. Her Ophelia is the obedient daughter Shakespeare demanded, but she is no simpleton. Those scenes from Act IV Scene 5 play out incredibly well on screen with her, even though they are distributed unevenly. Ophelia’s soliloquies are even more disconcerting when measured against what we have seen of her earlier. Kate Winslet’s downward spirals into madness are the most horrific though. Perhaps, due to the unabridged nature of the piece the weight of Ophelia’s destruction is even more horrific. I must consider Anderson’s disgust with the “screaming” and “crying” of the recent Ophelia’s. He is probably referring explicitly to Winslet’s Ophelia, who in the latter scenes are perpetually teary eyed. Not only is this tear-stained characterisation appropriate for her interpretation of the character – but it also lends to a fuller appreciation of the character across the interpretations. Prima facie, Winslet seems to be the best of the Ophelias, but Bonham Carter’s is my personal choice. She’s now learning her talents, but she outshines every incarnation. Whereas Kate shines when Ophelia has her important lines, Bonham Carter is more magical when she has less to say making extensive use of her face and eyes.
We may surmise that Ophelia is the female lead of Hamlet owing to her title as Hamlet’s girlfriend, but Queen Gertrude represents the central female in the play. Actually, it is Gertrude’s illicit (according to Hamlet) marriage to her dead husband’s brother that directly leads to his downward spiral into insanity. In his production Olivier secured a 27 year unknown Eileen Herlie to represent the formidable figure of Queen Gertrude. It is a casting decision that seems absurd to me. Olivier’s defenders have identified the prospective incestuous relationship between Hamlet and the Queen as added reason for highlighting a potential physical attraction between the two. Firstly, I’m sure that any son – whether he be having an unlawful relationship with her mother or not – would be despaired by her marriage to her dead husband’s brother three months hence. Olivier’s take on the plot point bears close resemblance to the Oedipus complex, but regardless of whether that interpretation is valid (or accurate) I do not find it as sufficient to warrant Herlie being fourteen years the junior of her purported son. Obviously he is attempting to imbue Gertrude with as much sexuality and sensuality as possible, but are his attempts justified? Herlie’s performance is competent, and regardless of how much she tries – her youth is highlighted, not downplayed – the realism of her fathering Hamlet seems ludicrous. Interestingly enough in the 1990 adaptation Glenn Close at 43 plays mother to Mel Gibson’s 34 year old Hamlet. It is still a strange disparity in age, but not as wide a conceit as Olivier. At 43 Close is 16 years the senior of Herlie, however Murray opines “Close brings…sexuality…to Gertrude…”. Obviously, Close’s age doesn’t detract from her ability to portray Gertrude as a figure of sensuality. The running theme of the Oedipus complex are not as overt here, but in the 1990 version the evidence of Gertrude’s (physical) love for Claudius is evident. Even if we don’t quite agree, we realise that her hasty marriage is not (just?) a calculated political movement. In addition, Herlie’s age could not have been the only way of turning Gertrude into a legitimate object of affection for the men in Hamlet. It is iniquitous to criticise the vision of the play that Olivier intended, but on a scholastic level his motives for casting such a young Gertrude seem uninspired.
Interestingly, though Branagh’s Hamlet and Kate Winslet’s Ophelia share a large age disparity, strangely enough Julie Christie – playing his mother – is age appropriate for Gertrude; not for Shakespeare’s Gertrude (who judging by Hamlet’s actual age would be in her early forties), but for Branagh’s 36 year old Hamlet. Of the three Gertrudes she’s the only one who could have actually borne their Hamlet. So with a 27 year old, a 41 year old and a 54 year old playing the Queen Gertrude the question arises as to which is superior. As with Jean Simmons’ Ophelia, Olivier’s production boasts the weakest Gertrude. It’s not that her performance is glaringly bad; it is actually quite competent in the film but measuring against the more inspired interpretation of Close and Christie, it pales. There is a particular scene where Close’s Gertrude stands out. An enraged Hamlet has (mistakenly) killed Polonius and he and his mother have a fierce battle of words. Close not only outshines her co-star (Gibson), but the layers she adds to the performance and the realism of it all is astonishing. Gertrude is a completely real woman, throughout, not the steely Queen that Herlie is. Of course, this could all be attributed to Zeffirelli’s passionate take on the story. Nonetheless, Julie Christie – though not the best – is an admirable pillar for Shakespeare’s Gertrude to hang upon. In her 54 years she is completely resplendent, and though not as uninhibited as Close she still brings a strange girlishness to her character. Whereas Close shines in that pivotal aforementioned scene, Christie’s shining moments for me come when she sees the degradation of Ophelia. Her lines are slight, but Christie is a talented facial actress and her interpretation of this scene is splendid. Nevertheless, despite Herlie not being as extraordinary as her older counterparts the Gertrudes of each adaptation seems to be competently handled.
Without uncertainty I would sincerely recommend each adaptation of Hamlet. What makes each production priceless in its own right is that they are each separate and autonomous onto themselves. This is both a positive and a negative, each production goes wrong in some entities but each also goes right in many ways. On a purely populist level Zeffirelli’s 1990 production is estimable. It’s the simplest version for someone unacquainted with Shakespeare. This is obviously owing to the dramatic licences taken, lines are abridged and characters are condensed. But the realistic nature of the piece and its excellent aesthetics make it worthy, not just for its populist appeal for its performances. Glenn Close and Helena Bonham Carter were previously mentioned as particularly exceptional, and Mel Gibson though not the best Hamlet is still good. Although not one of the main characters Ian Holm’s Polonius is excellent, he is by far the best Polonius of the three adaptations. When he coaches his son Laertes with the time worn saying “To thine own self be true” he is not just saying a line, but speaking words as if they were authentically his. The Zeffirelli version however, from a purely scholastic level, is also the one diverting most from Shakespeare. The most glaring change is the placement of the pivotal “Get thee to a nunnery” speech that Hamlet delivers to Ophelia in Act III Scene One. Zeffirelli’s version retains Polonius, Claudius and Gertrude’s plan to forge an engagement between Hamlet and Ophelia, but the aforementioned speech is moved to after the play-within-a-play. This is obviously for dramatic effect, since Hamlet’s departure, his caustic remarks and Polonius’ death could easily be regarded as a logical reason for her subsequent madness. It’s not Shakespeare’s intention, though it does work within the context of the interpretation.
Branagh’s Hamlet is fortunate because it’s an unabridged account of Shakespeare’s work. The play within a play is relegated to a mere dumb show in both previous incarnations, but in this version it is a complete spoken word piece. Charlton Heston shines as the King within the play, and from this angle we are able to more appreciate the (prospective) guilt of Claudius. I was not as enamoured with Branagh’s Hamlet though Winslet as Ophelia and Christie as Gertude were good. I previously glossed over the visual capabilities of Branagh’s version, since compared to Zeffirelli they are second, but in all its spotlessness the film is a visual treat. Something I find interesting of this incarnation is the use of the flashback technique by Branagh, it’s an inspired notion. Though the film is an unabridged version of the play, but Branagh makes use of (voiceless) flashbacks as we see happier times in Ellsinore with Claudius seeming to lurk in the shadows, all the while plotting. These scenes are especially profound and are a nice addition to the narrative, and despite the seemingly tedious length of the film already (nearing four hours) it is never superfluous. We even see Claudius murder his brother as the ghost speaks which unlike the other two incarnations is more startling. Though I do say that I do not find Branagh’s interpretation appropriate for the role and his chemistry with Winslet to be feigned, the scene where he acknowledges her in the coffin is done so tastefully that I will single that particular moment out as handled the best of the three.
In the end though, I must single out Olivier’s 1948 production as the best of the lot. It’s ironic because I am not fond of Jean Simmons Ophelia or particularly besotted with Herlie’s Gertrude, but it seems that Agee is correct when he asserts “Any production of Hamlet stands or falls, in the long run, by the quality of its leading actor.” Olivier is the best of the Hamlets – even though he is not faultless. The thing about it is that Olivier’s Hamlet is not a true representation of Shakespeare’s play. Lines are cut, and the subplot of Fortinbras (who is plotting to overthrow Denmark) is eviscerated. Purists will call foul, but even though his is not the four hour epic that Branagh is it exists as a fulfilling incarnation of Shakespeare. A moment I appreciate greatly in his incarnation is the meeting of the ghost. In 1948 little special effects are available, but as the ghost appears in a mist and his face is almost obliterated by a helmet it is appropriately haunting and seems like such an apt way for a ghost to exist. Olivier’s talent makes up for some shortcomings in his pivotal scenes with Simmons and its possible that the mystique of the black and white palette make the film even more artistic, but as a film the talents of cinematography, and editing is utilised so effectively and despite condensation of lines, it’s still particularly profound. It is not Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” complete, but more of a compact Hamlet. Nevertheless, I feel it exists as the best of the lot, even though each is significant in their own rite.
Note: “Hamlet” is nowhere near my favourite Shakespeare play Twelfth Night, The Taming of the Shrew, Romeo & Juliet and Othello all rank above.
In the battle of Hamlet vs Hamlet vs Hamlet
It goes thus:
Hamlet (1996) B
Hamlet (1990) B+
Hamlet (1948) B+
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Wuthering Heights is such a depressing novel, I wonder why I keep rereading. Of course it will be compulsory on my reading list, so it doesn’t hurt to get reacquainted with it. It’s still the only Brontë novel I like (neither Jane Eyre or Agnes Grey, et al do move me). I used to consider the possibility of Joaquin Phoenix and Kate Winslet reteaming for a film (or TV) adaptation of it – but I suppose they’re too old. I’m still not sure that the “current” version ever will be made. I’ve lazily reached an impasse with Wicked: The Life & Times of the Wicked Witch of the East. I should restart it soon, Jose says it’s a blast (as have many others). It doesn’t help that I’m being distracted by David Sedaris’ hilarious Me Talk Pretty One Day (which reinforces the possible fact that gay writers are funnier than us straight folks). Honestly, though, Sedaris may be one of the best nonfiction writers ever – although nonfiction sounds like the wrong word to describe something so irreverent.
(I should be blogging more.)
What have you been reading lately?
Monday, 26 July 2010
According to my count I’ve seen 650 films from the last decade, which is more or less an accurate count. I was particularly anxious to cover the “worst of” list, because looking at the worst is even more subjective than looking at the best. I have a feeling I may step on some toes, but it’s all done in good faith.
Of the films I remember seeing (yes, I tabulated a list) I’ve given 45 Fs. I’m unsure if that’s too much or too little. Here they are, alphabetically…
Big Momma’s House (2000) / Anger Management (2003) / Are We There Yet (2005) / Around the World in 80 Days (2004) / Big Fat Liar (2002) / Big Momma’s House II (2006) / Blades of Glory (2007) / Boat Trip (2003) / Cats & Dogs (2001) / Cinderella Story (2004) / Daredevil (2003) / Dukes of Hazzard (2005) / Duplex (2003) / Elektra (2005) / Fred Claus (2007) / Garfield: A Tale of Two Kitties (2006) / High Crimes (2002) / House of Wax (2005) / I Love You Beth Cooper (2009) / John Q (2002) / Josie & the Pussycats (2001) / Kangaroo Jack (2003) / Like Mike (2002) / The Lizzie MaGuire Movie (2003) / Love Don’t Cost A Thing (2003) / Mad Money (2008) / Marley & Me (2008) / Material Girls (2006) / Men In Black II (2002) / Nacho Libre (2006) / Next (2007) / Norbit (2007) / Not Another Teen Movie (2001) / Rat Race (2001) / The Ring (2002) / Scary Movie II (2001) / Scary Movie III (2003) / Scooby Doo (2002) / Seven Pounds (2008) / Shallow Hal (2001) / Stuart Little II (2002) / Stuck On You (2003) / Swing Vote (2008) / Wild Hogs (2007) / XXX (2002)
The above 45 films are those eligible for my own personal awards of “Worst”. The biggest offender was 2002 with a whopping ten titles emerging from it. 2000 and 2009 (the book ends) only got one a piece.
The Worst Performances
Runners Up (Paris Hilton in House of Wax, Fred Willard in Scooby Doo, Ben Stiller in Blades of Glory, Ben Stiller in Duplex, Jack Black in Shallow Hal)
#10: Ben Affleck in Daredevil
#9: Jack Black in Nacho Libre
I’ve covered this before – let’s just leave it at bad, bad, bad.
#8: Eddie Murphey in Norbit
An atrocity, and probably the lowest point in his career (and there have been other low points); so disgusting it fails to be humorous and just becomes sad.
#7: Martin Lawrence in Big Momma’s House
#6: Jerry O’Connell in Kangaroo Jack
O'Connell seemed to show at least an average amount of competence in Crossing Jordan. Thus, I wonder if he's really that talent-less or just not talented enough to make this drivel work. It's painful to watch at times, and I think he knows.
#5: Hayley Duff in Material Girls
Sure, she'll never be as big as her sister (and by big I mean terrible), but she does give her a run for her money in the shrill acting department.
#4: Hayden Panetirre in I Love You, Beth Cooper
Perhaps it's unfair to single her out as the film's worse offender, but then again - no.
# 3: Hilary Duff in Material Girls
It's one of the oddest performance I've seen. She manages to overact and underact at the same time, and still manages to annoy me with her shrill platitudes (the script's fault as much) on life. What a bore.
#2: Will Ferrell in Blades of Glory
There has been one occasion where I have not loathed Will Ferrell, in Stranger than Fiction. Other than not, his talent eludes me. but this is just too horrible for words.
#1: Anthony Anderson in Kangaroo Jack
The Worst Worst
Runners Up: (Big Momma’s House, Daredevil, Nacho Libre, Shallow Hal, Stuart Little II)
#10: Blades of Glory
I’ve permanently been standoffish about Will Ferrell and Ben Stiller since. This is the sort of contemptible imaginings that just make me sigh at the state of “comedy” in this day and age. What a chore.
#9: Scary Movie III
Dare I continue? Anna Farris shows burst of talent at times, but it’s never in this franchise. It just gets worse and worse and this third incarnation is just vile. To add to its badness they decide to spoof every single movie they can think of. Epic fail. Epic.
#8: Garfield: A Tale of Two Kitties
I can’t explain what prompted me to see this. I missed the original (with good reason apparently). I like the comics, but the sight of this disgusting cat makes me want to hurl and with a story that beats as much as a punctured heart I curse the day that the filmmakers realised the money to be made in anamorphic characters.
#7: I Love You, Beth Cooper
#6: Men In Black II
I remember being mildly charmed by the original; the sequel? Not so much. Will Smith aggravates me most of the time, and though I don’t despise Tommy Lee Jones I’m not a big fan of his. With this unfortunate sequel I though at least they’d stop with the pairing; I was wrong
#5: Elektra
#4: Norbit
I didn’t want Murphy to win the Oscar for Dreamgirls, and if this is what prevented it – I’m fine. That doesn’t make it any better, though. Eddie Murphy has talent, but the offensiveness horribleness of this “film” is unnerving. What a travesty.
#3: Big Momma’s House II
What’s worse than the original? The sequel. I suppose once upon a time the crossdressing thing held some appeal (Robin Williams, Dustin Hoffman, Jack Lemmon all did it with genuine comedic ability) but this tired film is such a chore I cringe that this is what black comedy has turned. I cringe that this is what ANY sort of comedy has turned to.
#2: Material Girls
Perhaps, there’s just the slightest bit of folly in expecting this to be good; but I’m not one to harshly judge all teenage fodder. In the case of Material Girls, all the hate is justified. Uninspired, ridiculous and so horribly acting I can’t believe that Anjelica Huston has reached this level.
#1: Kangaroo Jack
Is there any film above that you’d be willing to defend? Make your arguments.
An F is more than just a bad movie; an F is a film I wish would disappear completely. What were your Fs last decade?
Sunday, 25 July 2010
Saturday, 24 July 2010
Baumbach is not an easy director. His Margot at the Wedding was so uncomfortable, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the reason that so few care to remember it (despite Nicole Kidman’s excellent performance). Greenberg is not as obviously prickly but it’s not an easy comedy either. The eponymous Greenberg (Ben Stiller) has recently been released from a mental institution and other than his somewhat dormant career as a carpenter his life seems dedicated to wasting time and making everyone around him feel terrible.
Stiller is an odd one for me, I’ve never found myself particularly impressed by him and watching Greenberg there’s something that tells me that tells me that someone else could have done the role better justice. That said, it’s arguably one of Stiller’s strongest performances and though he occasionally comes off as too perfunctory with his lines he does a good job of carrying the film on his shoulders. His Greenberg seems to be a disgusting man-child, but Stiller manages (somehow) to make him into something more accessible to the audience. Sometimes it's difficult to forget we're watching Stiller, but more often than not Stiller manages to drown in his character and that's when the film is strongest - when Stiller really acts and let the great screenplay shine through.
Oddly, despite Baumbach’s apparent intention to make this a film about Stiller Greta Gerwig and Rhys Ifana contribute too excellent supporting performances. The latter in particular takes a potential stock role of the wronged friend and turns it into something bathetic and real. This is my first outing with Greta Gerwig, but she plays well as a potential love interest for the misanthropic Greenberg. Greenberg shouldn’t come off as such an easy watch – the characters (most of them) are unfeeling and cold, but Baumbach knows how to work with these type of flawed beings and even though it’s not pleasant per se, it is pleasing to watch.
B
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