Nebraska (*****)

Alexander Payne's latest flick is unquestionably a fine achievement. Quiet, fleeting, beautiful, blink and you may miss it, laugh too hard and you may miss an opportunity to reflect. Almost the pinnacle of his work thus far, incorporating themes from 'About Schmidt' and 'The Descendants' to name a few, Payne creates a road trip movie that is just about as good as anything I've seen in theaters this year. 

Woody Grant is a man of few words, married to his wife (Kate) and father to two awkward sons (David and Bob), he's slowly slipping into a state of unconsciousness. Perhaps its Alzheimer's, perhaps not, all we know is that Woody has won 1 million dollars, and he intends to collect his winnings in Lincoln, Nebraska, even if he has to walk there himself.

What follows is a story of a father (Bruce Dern) and his son (Will Forte), as Woody is humored into taking a trip to prove that it is simply a marketing ploy, not a promise of eternal fortune. 

What a funny film this was! As they travel from Montana to Nebraska, they stop at a relative's home, one of Woody's brothers, where we meet the aunt and cousins, as well as take a peek at the town where Woody was raised. There's the garage he used to own. That woman was who he dated before getting married to Kate. Or maybe not. To Woody, it's all the past, a blur of faces and places, nothing more. He wanders through town like a ghost, a man who has come to use alcohol as a crutch. To his son, his younger years are a mystery. 

Bruce Dern (who I admit, am not well-versed in) is a God-send in the leading role. He is quiet, stubborn, losing grip on reality. He captures a man that is not always likable but is entirely sympathetic. It's a quiet performance but truly one of the great leading roles of the year. In a genius scene with his son in a bar, for example, he summarizes marriage in the most brutally honest ways, so matter-of-fact and surprising to his son, and Dern maneuvers the dialogue like a master. His character has no motives or deception, he does not lie, and he has no agenda. Woody is only truthful, hard of hearing, and stubborn in his quest to collect his money.  

How funny that he finds himself married to the loudest mouth in Montana. In a performance sure to go down in history, June Squibb all but steals the show in every scene, Oscar-worthy in every sense of the term and likely this year's winner for Best Supporting Actress. She is a fiery woman, put up with her husband's antics, and the nail that holds the film together. Visiting the cemetery where Woody's family is buried, for example, Kate goes stone to stone, picking apart her deceased in-laws with insults and commentary. "Here's Woody's sister. What a whore. I liked Rose, but she was a slut..." It's undoubtedly the funniest scene of the film, perfectly encapsulating Kate's character and her relationship with her distanced husband and her ever-uncomfortable son. Squibb is sorely missed any moment she is not on screen, and she's a character just dripping with sass, charisma, and warmth. Give this woman an Oscar, dammit!

The black and white landscapes are remarkable, something we all recognize, as are the characters, so well-written and so Payne-ian in their depictions. The score is unique, simple, yet iconic. Humor isn't found in slapstick or funny visuals, but the way we find a disconnection with the elderly, with different groups of people, the awkwardness that comes from new scenery and change of pace.

Like all Alexander Payne films, we conclude on a masterfully-crafted shot, simple yet so effective, the son and father drive off into the sunset, driving over a hill and disappearing in the distance. What Woody fails to accomplish with his winnings, his son eventually fulfills for him anyways, and the movie concludes with such a sense of completion and love. What more needs to be said? So poignant and fulfilling, the perfect end to a perfect little story, 'Nebraska' had me floored long before the credits were rolling. 

(Awards potential: Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor (Dern), Best Supporting Actress (Squibb), Best Original Screenplay, Best Original Score)

Blue Is The Warmest Color (Jo *1/2)

This year's controversial (and do we mean controversial) Palm D'Or winner at the Cannes Film Festival has weaseled its way into American cinemas, despite the hard NC-17 rating, and despite it's 3-hour run time. The film, an allegory for some sort of sexual awakening or perhaps blossoming adulthood, is flawed, and there lies the very core problem of this film.

Let's begin by being quite clear: as one who is an avid film fan and has seen his fare share of 'queer cinema,' this film is not a member of that company. Queer cinema identifies itself as being made by, starring, even exploring what it means to be gay in the world. Perhaps this film explores, but never does it settle on anything genuine. Here is a film made by, starring, written and directed by heterosexuals. Plain and simple.

We see young Adele (newcomer Adèle Exarchopoulos, an actress whose nose runs so easily that she definitely needs an abundance of Kleenex with her at all times), a high schooler who dates a few guys, whatever. She is quiet, reserved, yet beautiful. She dates a guy, though it does nothing for her. She eats her feelings away yet gains no weight (aside from those adorable chubby cheeks).

And just as her English class begins discussing 'love at first sight' and 'predestination,' she meets Emma, a blue-haired wild girl, a meeting so fated that it feels almost like the two read the script and knew all about 'love at first sight' before even filming the scene. She feels something - a passion inside of her. We know what happens from here: they eventually fall in love, they begin dating, and the love falls apart in the end. It always does.

The process by which this happens is where the film draws much of my criticism. After moving in together, Adele becomes bored with the relationship, and like any level-headed lesbian in cinema does, she strikes up an affair with a man. Duh. This, of course, drives a spike through their relationship, and the two are parted forever. What is it with mainstream cinema that says lesbianism isn't valid? That a woman ALWAYS needs a man in order to feel fulfilled (both figuratively and literally, in this scenario). How offensive is that, knowing that films are still made (even in liberal France) that insist upon heteronormality, even in a film so proud to be called 'a revolution.'

And of course, with a lesbian movie, we are bound to see some sex scenes. Of course, these are the controversial and oftentimes graphic moments in the film that clearly are boosting the box office numbers. In a film so beautifully photographed and lit, the fact that all lesbian sex scenes are shot in wide angles and with the brightest studio lights is problematic to say the least. Hearing stories that the 10-minute scene took over 10 days to shoot (by the director's insistence) is so disturbing, and why this film draws praise for it's 'realism' is beyond me. These 'intimate' moments are the film's downfall: hokey, unrealistic, and jarring. This director could surely hit it big in the adult entertainment industry.

Perhaps this director could have taken the millions budgeted for this movie and made something of substance, instead of a 3-hour porn fest. Don't get me wrong, I am not in any way offended by nudity, or gratuity in film. Quite the contrary. What troubles me is the lack of regard given to the LGBT community by all involved with this film. What a sheer and utter waste of film, of time, of man power, of my $10.50, and my Saturday afternoon...

(Awards potential: Best Actress (Exarchopoulos), Best Supporting Actress (Léa Seydoux))