Johnny Simmons

I’ll get around to listing my official list of favourite films some time soon, but I was thinking recently – and for some months now – how treacherous the act of grading films can be at times. No, this is not that long-awaited article explaining my sometimes strange grades, but it’s something that occurred to me most notably when Nicholas (one of my writing idols) made this note on his website. Sometimes when I review a film that I don’t like, I’ll include an aside saying it’s a laudable effort. It’s not evidence of me being apologetic – sometimes films have importance beyond how good a film it is; and Nick’s words strike a chord when I look over the films that are my favourite– and the ones that aren’t.  Value, originality and risk is what he looks at and this list of films below  are those I consider to be propitious contributions to cinema. Not the films I remember most fondly (although, some turn up there) but the films that are important – those films that are worth your time, even if you don’t love them. (Come on; just check the dictionary to see what auspicious means.) If you will, this is the list of ten films that you shouldn’t have missed last year.

    

(click on the photos for reviews)

Agora (A-) Director: Alejandro Amenábar; originally written by Alejandro Amenábar and Mateo Gil, inspired by true events

Amenbar was interested in the idea of Hypatia, a feminist before her time – before feminists even. It’s more than plot that makes this a notable one, though. Amenbar and company recreate the world of the era through few special effects, but mostly from built-from-scratch production design. Perhaps I’m alone on this, but the persistent presence of objectivity in it is something to take note of. It’s not a sword and sandal epic of yore that has a specific agenda – sure it contorts historical facts to its advantages, but Agora is a bit like its heroine in being interested in examining all aspects of everything. And perhaps, that makes the transition from the first to the second half a bit splotchy – but it’s still laudable.

I feel a bit silly, because in my natural state of knowing nothing before I saw The Ghost Writer it wasn’t until the second attempt that I was able to glean the potential parallels between Tony Blair – and only after it was pointed out to me (I can be especially clueless about current affairs at times). Not that Polanski’s latest only has importance on that front only. What’s most noticeable about Polanski’s work here is how audacious his directing style still is. He’s still one of the most important cinematic entities alive, and he crafts a film about a man we have no idea about but keeps it finely tuned along with the excellent script. The Ghost Writer won’t top my list of favourite films, but the work put it into it marks it as the most prominent film of 2010 (including, but not relegated to its technical achievements).

             

Inception (B-/C+) Director: Chris Nolan; originally written by Christopher Nolan

I was not the biggest fan of Inception when it came out, and if anything my feelings have lessened but that doesn’t prevent me from admiring Nolan’s vision. No, my disliking Inception was not an example of me being deliberately subversive. Nolan is responsible for a significant portion of the actually story and he deserves credit for the scope of the film. I don’t think he succeeds as well as he might in the creation of completely lucid film, but Inception is the sort of achievement that’s important as a valid example of cinema moving forward – and getting more audacious. For that, I applaud him.

            

Scott Pilgrim vs the World (B+) Director: Edgar Wright; adapted by Edgar Wright and Mark Baccall from a graphic novel by Brian Lee O'Malley

There are a number of reasons that I’ve been miffed about the lukewarm reception Scott Pilgrim vs the World seems to have gotten this past year, and I’ll take solace in it becoming a potential cult classic. It’s not because I happen to like it, I might opine that this is probably the most significant comic to screen adaptation of the last decade. Strong words? Bear with me. Scott Pilgrim’s steadfast devotion to the things that define its generation (Nathan gives a thoughtful review on just that) AND its ability to satisfy the niche without making persons not in that niche audience balk is a significant asset that many films of the type don’t have. It seems as if it sets itself up for a box, but the overwhelming youthfulness of it all is not a crutch but one of its strong suits – one of many.

The Social Network (A) Director: David Fincher; adapted by Aaron Sorkin from the novel The Accidental Billionaires by Ben Mezrich and inspired by true events

To an extent I feel as if The Social Network is being celebrated for the wrong things. It doesn’t end up on my list because it reinvents the wheel, it’s here because Sorkin’s script wilily presents us with the most basic of human entities (friendship and jealousy) and Fincher, so astutely, takes up the mantle to helm the piece ensuring that it’s more than about Zuckerberg or facebook. I feel a bit lofty claiming that it’s some sort of social parable for civilisation today and to an extent it’s just a bit too serious for its own good. It’s possible that misrepresentation on this front has attracted claims of its misogynistic ways. In assessing The Social Network, though, it’s better to understand its importance through smaller lenses like human emotion than larger entities like internet addiction (not that human emotion is a “small” entity, but on a curve its less voluble – and more in tune with The Social Network’s inherently smaller – but  not necessarily lesser – standards).

             

FINALISTS: Fish Tank (C+) doesn’t thrill me half as much as it does most, but Arnold’s debut is still admirable. Narrative issues aside, she has a striking sense of interest in her protagonist that’s sorely lacking in many coming-of-age films. For Colored Girls (B-) is flawed, but it’s disingenuous not to note the superb attempts that Perry takes in adapting this VERY theatrical piece and trying to maintain that beating theatrical heart and reconciling it with the cinema. Howl (C+) is even more faulty than the former, and I sort of wish that Epstein would have had the guts to be a little less prosaic with how he paced the story – but, that aside, he does some original things with Ginsberg’s life and it makes me interested in seeing him tackling another biographical piece – he seems to have an unbridled enthusiasm for it. Night Catches Us (B/B-) is not a history lesson, and Hamilton is not interested in forwarding a cause shrouded in a pedestrian story. Sometimes she's too reticent for her own good, but the drama she creates is taut and gutsy and most importantly adeptly handled. And, Shutter Island (B) – this one is notable, in particular, for its technical achievements and Scorsese’s ability to utilise past genres while still managing to make the film his, despite that ending – which he can’t be blamed for.

          

SEMI-FINALISTS: The American; Blue Valentine; Greenberg; The Kids Are All Right

         

Do you get where I’m going here, or am I confusing? (Again, I say, read Nick’s post) Have you been in the same boat, a film worthy of your respect that you may not love? What’s the most IMPORTANT film of 2010 for you?

Both Frankie & Alice, and Night Catches Us examine race relations in the seventies – one more overtly than the other. They both had the unfortunate fate of being released and getting lukewarm reception from audiences (although Frankie & Alice is only now expanding in theatres).

           

Geoffrey Sax directs Frankie & Alice without palpable interest for the time period, in fact Sax seems least interested in any extraneous bit of his characters opting to single insularly put his focus on Berry – which ends up being a decision that works for him. Halle Berry has never ranked among my favourite actors but I am elated to see her returning to the good work that I know she’s capable. 

It’s difficult to separate the film’s somewhat generic plot from the multiple incarnations of people with dissociative identity disorder. It’s a theme that ostensibly suggests mugging for the camera (and by extension) awards’ bait. But, Berry approaches the role with a striking amount of integrity ignoring – on the most obvious of levels at least – the potential for gimmickries that lies in the film. The fact that one of her multiple personalities is a racist ends up developing as a plot-point not played for the obvious shock potential one would expect. Even, Berry, in her occasional tendency to overdo employs a restraint here and plays well opposite Stellan Skarsgård. The two get the most signficant screen time, but Chandra Wilson and Phylicia Rashad offer up poignant supporting turns suggesting that they both deserve more recognition on the big screen. There comes a moment towards the end when the film becomes a bit too interested in being histrionic, but Vanessa Morgan (as a young Frankie) is surprisingly good in her part delivering on the emotional resonance along with Berry.

         

And, yet, though Night Catches Us exists with the very taut racial tension of the era Tanya Hamilton (writer and director) never takes it too far. There’s an admirable dormancy to the atmosphere that works in evoking that sort of unrest after great activity and in the midst of all this dissonance Marcus (Mackie) returns to his old neighbourhood where he may or may not have caused the death of his brother by ratting him out to the police. 

 

Hamilton avoids the usual tricks, like making that issue a major plotpoint. Instead, she has Mackie and Washington playing opposite each other to great results. Hamilton is interested in studying her characters – each of them, an she almost always goes for the sedate instead of the jarring which works for her. The race relations are almost aside to the main arc of the broken characters trying to rebuild their lives, and though her sedateness could be mistaken for reticent she deserves praise either way.

I always go overboard with the supporting women because year after year it’s always this category that offers the widest foray of good performances, most of which incidentally are not as lauded as they ought to be. Last year, my top three supporting women (Marion Cotillard in Nine, Samantha Morton in The Messenger, Rosamund Pike in An Education) all did great jobs in elevating potentially stock roles and this year there’s one again a gamut of supporting women to choose from. I single out five nominees, but I make mention of twenty more bringing the total to 25. Take a look:

            

(click on photos for review)

          

Like Bale she’ll get the kneejerk support for all the wrong reasons. The fact that she’s brilliant here doesn’t hinge on the fact that she’s playing against type, Charlene’s toughness. Adams will always impress me because she always has the ability to appeal to my emotions with her facial expressions – and it’s a running thread in her performances that doesn’t make them any less worthy. She’s no saint, and she’s as interested in forwarding her own agenda in Micky’s life as his dysfunctional family – but her heart in the right place, and it’s that sort of internal conflict facing her that Adams is able to demonstrate. Like a cat, she’s always ready to fight but she’d much prefer to sit back and relax. (Highlight: “I’m Charlene, we just met. Do we have to do this again?”)

 

I was prepared to like this performance, but at first I was sceptic. “No, Kristin, you’re overdoing,” I thought. “Too obvious with the coldness, too palpably prickly.” And then she surprises me, and keeps surprising. It’s sort a thin role, and then again it’s not when she plays it and she really manages to pull off the rapport with Aaron Johnson well even though Duff has the more “obvious” chemistry. Speaking of Duff, though, both women burn brightest against each other and it’s that sort of filial chemistry that can’t be forced (well in actuality it is, they are *acting*). (Highlight: Confrontation with her Sister)

Kerry Washington in Mother & Child (as Lucy)

Of the three main role hers seems to emerge as a caricature almost immediately. I immediately feel an eye roll coming on as I watch her talk about how much she wants a baby – and then amidst all the mannered ways of Lucy you sort of get the authentic of the character even though she’s still mannered and then those small moments like a dinner with her husband’s parents or watching her try (almost like it’s a physical exertion) to be the perfect wife it’s almost chilling in a Stepford wife sort of way. But Kerry still manages to make this character the most sympathetic of the three. Odd, and yet sort of awesome. (Highlight: “Who the fuck does she think she is?”)

The thing I like most about Weaver’s work here is, incidentally, how difficult it is to read her. It’s no surprise that she’s been doing this for decades because the adeptness with which she approaches the character is impressive. Someone remarked, and I agree, that Weaver’s biggest credit is ensuring that Animal Kingdom doesn’t become bogged down by the barrage of maleness that surrounds it. She doesn’t “tower” above the narrative, but still looms – often in the background – but still in our consciousness ensuring that her agenda emerges as important – even if she’s really not as certain about everything as she pretends. (Highlight: “I’m trying to find my positive spin...”)

I love her eyes , sure they look like she’s constantly squinting (it’s just her face) but she’s like a hawk in the way she takes note of everything and she shrouds her sagacity behind a smokescreen of congeniality. Case in point: her first scene where Becca brings the clothes to Izzy. She’s watching them closely, she knows what’s going on and then she injects her random bit of kooky mother humour and her soothsaying powers. You’re tempted to roll your eyes and this sort of lovable woman, but it’s just her brand of damage control. She spends the entire film being there for Becca and yet carrying around her own grief – with aplomb. (Highlight: too hard to pick.)

FINALISTS: Helena Bonham-Carter plays the officious Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland to brilliant results (more here). She succeeds in the overbearing loudness all the while ensuring that the character’s (admittedly vague) humanity is shrouded in the high comedic way of it all; Kim Cattrall and Olivia Williams don’t really play off each other in The Ghost Writer but their opposing viewpoints are an important part of learning about our protagonist. Cattrall’s ostentatious mannerisms do not indicate not a flaw in her performance but a clear realisation of her character and Williams’ pragmatism is brilliant to watch; Thandie Newton is riveting to watch in For Colored Girls so in touch with her troubled character easily doing some of the best work of her career; and Naomi Watts emerges from Mother & Child with a refreshingly good handle on a difficult character managing to deliver emotional poignancy in those last few minutes.

SEMI-FINALISTS: There are a whole slew of women who don’t make it to the finalists, but are instrumental in lending bits of hilarity, emotion or fun to their films. The most notable lot are: Helena Bonham Carter for being as perfect as necessary as the charming wife on the sidelines in The King’s Speech; Cher for putting her natural cadence to good use and being essential to the joie de vivre of Burlesque; Patricia Clarkson for doing the same thing in Easy A while always augmenting and never taking away from Emma Stone; Marion Cotillard for being the best-in-show in Inception while playing a woman that’s more memory than realism; Loretta Devine for impressing with the monologue work in For Colored Girls and reminding us why we fell in love with her assertiveness so many years ago; 

Anne-Marie Duff for being wonderfully charismatic in Nowhere Boy playing the role of exotic mother to perfection, but finding the heart beneath; Kimberly Elise for managing to turn what could be a hot mess of character into something worthy of our appreciation in ; Barbara Hershey for working the vaguely clichéd stage mother to better results than you’d expect in Black Swan; Keira Knightley for taking a humdrum character and presenting her as a sort of flawed anti-heroine in Never Let Me Go; Melissa Leo for being especially moving opposite her suns even amidst all the distractions of being loud in The Fighter; Vanessa Redgrave for turning a potentially tepid romance flick into something worthy of luminosity in Letters to Juliet; Anika Noni Rose for bringing an effusive charm to her character in For Colored Girls and maintaining that dignity throughout the lowest points; Susan Sarandon for being the best in show in The Greatest playing her grief more obviously than we’d expect from her, but succeeding nonetheless; Sissy Spacek for surprising with how she decides to show emotion in Get Low and then slaying you towards the end without even saying anything; Kierston Wareing for playing her potentially terrible mother as someone with more humanity than you’d expect.

               

I’m always fond of this category because there are so many brilliant supporting women to find who’re doing great stuff – I could, perhaps, collectively offer up the entire casts of For Colored Girls, Rabbit Hole and Scott Pilgrim vs the World. People are always lamenting the sorry state of female roles, but I don’t know I’m always being wowed by the work the work they offer up. This category always gets me excited, I offer up two dozen supporting women – do any of them appear on your list? Which supporting women made your 2010?

The entirety of Conviction depends on us believing that Betty Anne Waters is so devoted to her brother that she spend her life studying to get him out of prison. In theory, it seems like something any sibling would do, but it’s a special sort of devotion and though Sam Rockwell’s charisma suggests that he’s the type of rebel that people want to help I hate that Goldwyn does a disservice to his story by providing us with a stronger clarification for that arc. The occasional flashbacks touching on them as children don’t suffice, although I give him (grudging) credit for it. And, it’s not that he errs in not devoting enough time to it – it’s just one of the (many) ways that Conviction doesn’t sell itself as a cinematic entity. Compare that relationship to Becca and Izzy in Rabbit Hole. That relationship isn’t at the forefront of the film, but in two short scenes Lindsay-Abaire and Mitchell give us the strengths and weaknesses in that liaison – of course, buoyed by the good work being done by Blanchard and Kidman (more on Tammy). Filial love is probably a disingenuous title for this article, though I’d intimate that in any sort of rapport between siblings could be traced back to filial love – let’s examine 2010’s crop.

One of the singular deficiencies in Animal Kingdom, which I’m even wary of calling an actual deficiency, is the relationship that J’s mother had with her siblings and mother. “Mum kept me away from her family” is striking in its vagueness, and Janine’s bit on why they stopped talking is obviously a smokescreen for something else – but what? I often found myself thinking what sort of a relationship she had with her brothers. It’s a bit difficult to extrapolate anything close to love among the three brothers. Craig, in his sincerity, grieves for Baz – but Baz isn’t a brother. And in that subdued scene where Darren and Pope prepare for the funeral the dejectedness seems less about grief for Craig and more of a general discontent with their lives. Aaron Johnson’s Graham – the eponymous Greatest of his film – dies and leaves a grieving family, and a wayward brother, and I feel a bit awful for not even mentioning Johnny Simmons as a semi-finalist for his work here. He’s still an actor learning the ways, but it’s interesting watching the way he decides to show grief for his brother.

        

Thandie Newton is all sorts of fabulous in For Colored Girls, and there’s an arc where she sees her sister (Tessa Thompson) heading down the same path as she did. Newton has always had a natural prickliness in her performances and that makes her work even more striking here as she responds not with sympathy but with a laugh at a key moment in the narrative. It’s the sort of bottling of emotions that defines most of the women in For Colored Girls, but Newton’s Tangie is especially dangerous because these emotions burst out at the strangest points. In a way, that way in which she cares for her sister by not caring is indicative of Dicky and Micky in The Fighter. I keep getting the urge to give The Fighter a new and more interesting title (The Family, Brothers) and the second one especially would suffice here. It’s not incidental that the very first image of the film is Dicky and Micky together, since it’s that relationship that functions as an impetus for every other plotpoint in the film. And by omission you could probably say the same of the sisterly rapport between Anne-Marie Duff and Kristin Scott Thomas in Nowhere Boy. It’s difficult to deny that the two women are golden opposite each other, and it’s wrong to hope they had more scenes to do so – it’s not their story. But Mimi’s attitude towards Julia (and by extension John) is a significant arc of the story.

           

One of my favourite running arcs in Scott Pilgrim vs the World is those phone calls Stacey makes to Scott in his lowest points. I still don’t buy Stacy as Scott’s little sister – but the chemistry between Kendrick and Cera sell what should be an example of a terrible sibling relationship, but in actuality is not really. And, I sort of don’t want to say that Bertie and Edward have an awful relationship in The King’s Speech though that significant moment at Edward’s party where Pearce so wonderfully imitates his stutter is almost horrific – not because of its teasing way, but because it’s so glibly done – as if it’s the usual way to treat Bertie (wish that arc could have been examined more). And then I think of The Kids Are All Right. Hutcherson and Wasikowska are so obviously on the same wavelength – another example of how brilliant this cast is. It’s difficult for me not to call them my favourite sibling relationship of the year even though they have few actual scenes together – those moments when they’ll catch each others’ eye across the table for a slight roll of the eyes underscores – perfectly, and promptly – that tenuous thing called filial love.

           

So, I'm on to what is so lovingly referred to as the the artistic side of the technical branch. I say lovingly because I love this branch. I'm like a child in that way, look pretty things, bright colours and I'm distracted. Shame on me.

(click on the photos for reviews) 

The BAFTA gives out their awards for achievement in hair & makeup, and I’m not sure if the AMPAS has the same rules because in theory, you’d think hair is an important aspect of film but from the nominees that AMPAS gives out you wouldn’t think so. Anyhow, my citations are for both.

Black Swan (Marjorie Durand, Geordie Sheffer)

 

I could say that like the costumes – but to a lesser degree – I resent the artistic work in Black Swan for being so obvious with its dark versus light theme. Yes, I get it – that’s the overarching theme and all, but still. Nonetheless, I have much love for the hair and makeup here because it’s sort of fun in its histrionic way. I’d give them recognition just for what they do with Barbra Hershey, and as the film reaches its (tentative) resolution the work here becomes more and more important.

The amount of times my sister and I would make a comment about the voluble hair of the sisters made me know that I’d remember The Fighter here. Sure, the work on Leo and Bale is good and sure, the boxing injuries use makeup but it’s the hair and not the makeup that I remember most – from Leo’s blonde coiffeur to every single one of those sisters who you can identify by their hair. 

The citation here, in theory, would be for uglifying the luminous Emma Thompson (which is borderline crazy – because she’s so gorgeous and all), but it’s Ralph Fiennes I keep thinking of. He doesn’t quite look vile, but the work is astounding and then Rhys Ifans in his villainous madness (and Maggie’s hair – which makes me laugh, for reasons beyond my knowledge.) 

This is probably the only film this year that pays as much attention to hair as the makeup, and with brilliant results. It’s a bit lucky, because it’s show business so they NEED the makeup and the hair and all that pizzazz and it’s used for all it’s worth (but never too much). As good as Kristin Stewart is, I want to give half of the accolades she gets to the makeup team. 

Is it me or do all Westerns look the same? And True Grit looks like a typical Western, and then it doesn’t. The goodness of the makeup takes some time to sink in because it’s not especially striking but the work on Damon and Brolin comes to mind as especially developed – even if you’d immediately think of Bridges as a candidate here. True, they don’t have that much hair to work with – but it’s all well done.

FINALISTS: I’m at once impressed and confused with the hair and makeup choices in Never Let Me Go. The wigs especially come across as immediately ridiculous (and not in the hillbilly way of The Fighter) and yet they sort of work. I’m still surprised at how technical aspects – makeup included – are not as obvious and jarring as you’d have expected them to be even if they’re weird; the patients seem like the most obvious candidates for makeup work in Shutter Island, but I’m most impressed by their ability to turn Michelle Williams into a femme fatale before she even has lines and making Patricia Clarkson just the right amount of creepy, it’s the sort of work that is not usually recognised – shame.

          

SEMI-FINALISTS: Burlesque; The King’s Speech; Let Me In; Night Catches Us

            

The biggest compliment is that the costumes do seem to be designed with especial care for the characters and for my (untrained eye) it’s not anything boring like recent – failed – epics of the period. They don’t overestimate the importance of colour – although it is taken into account, and though we don’t have that many women to judge Hypatia against I love how her costumes are feminine but never ornate.

Alice in Wonderland (Colleen Atwood)

There’s a moment where Alice begins to grow – literally – and her very basic dress turns into another not so basic one. It’s the sort of indication of dress indicating character growth, at times the costumes provide indication of Alice’s mindset more than Wasikowska’s general boredom.

We know by now that contemporary costuming is the Oscars’ blindside unless it’s begging for recognition (see The Devil Wears Prada), but in such a piece that depends on EVERY aspect of poetic conceits the costuming is as striking as the dialogue at times. And though that final scenes costuming makes me smile for its whimsical way it’s still serving the story excellently.

 

Sensibility thrives over whimsy here, and true – I’m a fan of whimsy, but it is impressive how Beavan is more interested in serving her story than going over-the-top. I’ll admit, I’m not especially in love with her decision to go more monochromatic than necessary, but when she does bring out the softer tones (for the Queen) it is beautifully done.

Aspects of the film fall short for me oftentimes when it comes to the right amount of subtlety, but the technical aspect (score aside) constantly impress in their delicacy. It’s proof that pretty and artistic doesn’t necessarily mean loud and obvious.

FINALISTS: Sometimes Burlesque gets a bit wild with the clothes, but is it wrong that I love it for that? I think not; I like the work done in Robin Hood for the opposite reason. Janty Yates avoids the chance go overboard with overly flamboyant period pieces; and Sandy Powell is doing a whole lot Shutter Island is doing a whole lot with her costumes – just like every other technical aspect that eluded praise this season. Shame.

SEMI-FINALISTS: Night Catches Us; Nowhere Boy; The Runaways; Scott Pilgrim vs the World

           

Agora (Guy Hendrix Dyas, Frank Walsh)

 

Maybe, just maybe, my unknowledgeable self may not be the best expert – but then, even though it’s not all made from scratch there’s no doubt that even the rooms in Hypatia’s house are so meticulously created and developed. I’m not certain where the line ends between its production design and the photography team (who, by the way, are brilliant) – but what the hell? It’s thrilling either way

Inception (Guy Hendrix Dyas, Brad Ricker)          

Where do the visual effects end and where does the production design begin? Ah, questions – questions. I feel a bit annoyed that because of the (admittedly good) visuals a modern day piece like this gets the praise for art direction than most contemporary flicks to get but I can’t stay mad because the production work is especially good – and it should be, the story demands it and even though there’s a bit of a symbiotic and on that count Nolan and his team deliver admirably.

The King’s Speech (Eve Stewart, Netty Chapman)

Sue me, but I have a penchant for pretty things so I find the entire production design here a bit difficult to resist. Everything is just so lovely to watch, but what’s really surprising is it never turns into one of those annoying ornamental period pieces where the film is just begging you to pay attention to it. Everything in Logue’s office works so well, and it’s serving the story, being regal but not officious – functional but still appealing; a bit like the monarch himself.

I’d intimate that it does what Black Swan does a little better – on the art direction front at least. Notice how Mimi and Julia almost have the production design of their houses defining themselves (and it’s not unsubtle like the costumes.) Taylor-Wood is already interested in creating a world that’s a bit more fanciful than realistic and the production design doesn’t exploit this – but does it in an unexpectedly subtle manner.

Shutter Island (Dante Ferretti, Robert Guerra)

Like Inception the tie-in with visuals is potentially dense, and like Inception it’s the sort of film where creation of atmosphere is imperative to the success. It’s not as overtly dazzling, but it’s not really supposed to be. It underscores, but never overpowers the story so that when those very literal plot revelations come the production design is there to back it up – but not ham it up.

FINALIST: Get Low More than Felix’s appearance it’s the production design of his abode that makes the impact on the audiences. Geoffrey Kirkland resists the urge to make it too embellished and in a film that depends a whole lot on atmosphere the production design becomes a key asset in achieving this;

  

SEMI-FINALISTS: Black Swan; Never Let Me Go; Robin Hood; True Grit

What would top your list? Did the hair and makeup in The Runaways do it for you? Did Atwood’s costumes impress? Was the production design in Shutter Island snubbed? What would top your list?

Blue Valentine, which I’m yet to review, offers up what is probably the most stagnant portrayal of marriages that’s potentially off-putting in its desire to capture that tedium that marriage sometime reaches. I can’t decide if it’s my favourite portrayal of marital bliss (or lack thereof) this year since it has the advantage of focusing resolutely on the marital relations between the lead characters. Chloe pretends that it’s interested in examining the stagnancy of marriage but that’s just really a smokescreen for Egoyan’s agenda (not that I’m really sure what those are). This year wasn’t one full of romance – or of marriage, expect in incidental bits. We could probably add Rabbit Hole and The Kids Are All Right to Blue Valentine as two that deal significantly with it – though it’s not the main arc in either. I still think it’ difficult to pinpoint a single theme for The Kids Are All Right, since sperm donation seems especially vague and unsatisfactory – and that moment where Jules confronts her family to give her semi-soliloquy of sorts (Julianne’s strongest moment) functions as a major plot point for the film. Rabbit Hole is about dealing with grief, but like its potentially precise tagline (the only way out is through) the only way to assess Becca and Howie’s reaction to their son’s death is to examine marriage.

In The Greatest something similar occurs. When Susan and Sarandon take in the woman that’s carrying their dead son’s child – Pierce’s Allen reaches out to her getting some sort of closure, something that Susan’s Grace is lacking. The Greatest is an imperfect flick but it has its moments and though the two seem like a very odd couple, The Greatest is more obvious (not necessarily a bad thing) in examining how grief pulls a family apart. Unlike, Rabbit Hole, they don’t start the story eight months after the death. Brosnan was no stranger to tenuous marriages this year, though, playing opposite Olivia Williams in The Ghost Writer. I’d say he was better opposite Sarandon even The Ghost Writer is a better film. The marriage between Adam and Ruth is very incidental in The Ghost Writer, and Polanski doesn’t seem interested in it for its own sake – just for plot purposes, which – to an extent – is how Cobb and Mal’s relationship emerges in Inception. True, Marion Cotillard’s wonderful actressing is responsible for creating an emotional centre of sorts for Inception, its methodical way is sorely lacking in that department. I’m not fond of Leo here, though he soars most in his scenes opposite Marion – but as interesting as the arc is, it’s still Nolan’s most unconvincing.

That potentially unconvincing marriage makes me think of the King & Queen in The King’s Speech. I’m still fascinated by that arc in the film, even if Bonham Carter’s Queen Mother and her inclinations are poorly addressed. More than Rush’s admittedly good work, the film has its strongest grasp on me in two scenes – Bertie’s disastrous first meeting with that kooky voice coach, and that story he tells his daughters with the Queen silent in the background. Helena’s face has always been an enigma, but it’s even more exasperating here because she’s not playing an ostensibly mysterious character. I’d love to see Hooper (or maybe, Seidler) revisit this marriage since I’d be more invested in that relationship – though The King’s Marriage doesn’t have much of a ring to it. A bit like Eat Pray Love – Julia does all three beautifully, and her general charisma is invaluable, but my favourite portion of the film is neither eating, praying nor loving. I’m still overly fond of that New York chapter, and though I’ve been remiss in mentioning him Billy Crudup is intriguing opposite Roberts. Instead of Gilbert’s somewhat selfserving trip around the world, I’d not have minded a simple deconstruction of that marriage relationship. As little love as I have for Hofencer’s Please Give, though, I’ll laud it for the relationship between Platt and Keener which is handled so sensitively that I’m surprised at how insincere how everything around it seems. Maybe it only seems good in perspective. 

Patricia Clarkson played two wives this year, and the marriages seemed incidental in both. It’s difficult to deny the awesomeness of her and Stanley Tucci in Easy A, but Cairo Time is a puzzle – it’s perhaps the flipside to Blue Valentine. Juliette seems to be experiencing a bit of tedium in her marriage, though even that seems like too active of a word. That gentle placidity is one of the smartest things about Cairo Time, how it just all floats around, not aimless but not assertively. And more than Blue Valentine’s almost shocking teidum Juliette's dissonance in Cairo (most of the time without her husband) is probably the strongest example of a marriage gone stale, but not a bad marriage.

         

Marriage is hard, and it’s even harder making them work cinematically. Which married couples stood out last 2010 for you?