Carol (***)

CAROL attempts to be profound with the help of visual beauty and two terrific performances. There is so much to admire about director Todd Haynes' production, but in the end the movie left me feeling cold, unmoved, and perhaps more questioning of these characters' motivations than understanding.

It's 1950's New York, and we are introduced to our two leading characters. Therese, a quiet and oftentimes boyish girl who works selling dolls at a department store and drinks beers with the guys after a long day. It's a curiously similar role to the one Rooney Mara also played in "Girl With The Dragon Tattoo": she is fragile behind a strong facade, timid and yet confident. In many ways the movie is her story and perspective on meeting Carol, a high-class woman who wears furs and lives in a New Jersey mansion. Where Therese lacks confidence, Carol is bathed in it, ordering at a restaurant without so much a glance at the menu, inviting Therese to her house for the weekend without even knowing her.

The fascination comes from the underbelly of their beings and their reactions behind closed doors. Carol is anything but strong in her own home, as she fights a bitter divorce and custody of her only child. She clings to Therese if only for companionship during the holidays when otherwise she is alone. Therese explains her passion for photography, and Carol surprises her with an expensive trunk full of the newest technology and film. Therese accepts these gifts, this friendship, without hesitation. Her relationship with her boyfriend is crumbling, and her need for drastic change or perhaps a new life is with welcome arms at her meeting of Carol.

Like I previously said, the real beauty in this movie is the visuals. From costumes to cinematography, the look of the film rings true to a time gone by (as we know Todd Haynes is capable of, especially looking at another of his 'gay' themed melodramas "Far From Heaven"). Haynes has a control of the camera as though in a dream, with many shots through car windows or in the reflection on wet glass. Soft edges and moody lighting, one sequence in particular still stays with me in which Therese and Carol drive through a tunnel. Tell me that isn't one of the most astounding sequences in a film this year, one that captures the feeling of love with barely a word spoken.

The film opens and closes with a scene at a dinner table, where Carol and Therese talk (and we come to find later much time has passed). From first viewing to second, it's remarkable how much these characters have changed, and how my first impression of the dominant character was entirely wrong. The marvel of someone like Cate Blanchett (one of the great actresses today) is that she demands a presence on screen and so fully understands the emotion of any given scene. Rooney Mara has an equal (but nearly opposite) effect, but no less powerful.

I was not put off by the depiction of romance and love, but perhaps thrown off by the lack of understanding of these two women who progress against the grain of their society. The slow pace gave me time to soak up the look of the film, and yet it didn't help my appreciation of the grandeur of the story. Like the character, Carol is a beautiful thing to look at, and yet just below the surface are flaws and questions and mystery. Perhaps that's just the heart of a woman.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens (****1/2)

There are some spoilers here, so if you don’t want to have the film ruined, turn back now. 


JJ Abrams was notoriously going to be called “Jar Jar Abrams” by fans if he were to ruin the seventh installment, but thankfully that will not be necessary. How funny that the last Star Wars film was released only 10 years ago, and yet it feels like “The Force Awakens” has been hotly anticipated since “Return of the Jedi” 32 years ago. Gone are the days of the Senate and confusing dialogue and green screened sets (in the prequels, of course), Abrams’ installment is a return to form in more ways than one.

Thinking about it now, I think “The Force Awakens” is in many ways a remake of the 1977 original film. It follows roughly the same plot, as we meet our hero (Rey in this film, but more on her later) living in a sandy, desolate planet. Here she finds a cute little droid (BB-8) containing restricted information to use against the galactic forces (The New Order). Recruiting the help of some colorful characters, our hero learns the ways of the force, flies a spaceship, and helps destroy a planet-sized weapon originally designed to crush the rebels once and for all.

The first success is undoubtedly the casting. Like Lucas with his original film, Abrams recruited two relatively unknown actors to play our heroine, Rey (Daisy Ridley), and Finn (John Boyega), a young man who deserts his job as a storm trooper to fight alongside the rebels instead. The trailers were fairly vague as to their purposes in the story, but Rey is a dreamer in many of the same ways Luke Skywalker was. She teams with Finn (in a refreshingly non-romantic way) to travel to rebel headquarters to deliver BB-8 to the hands of General Leia.

Star Wars has proven to be a story more about characters than setting, and getting to see the return of people like Han Solo and Princess Leia is a feeling of warmth and overwhelming nostalgia. In a worse film, the returning characters might have been given some wise words to say and nothing more. Here, Han Solo is fighting and charming the socks off aliens at every step – but is that any surprise for a man of such charisma and style?

The villains are more or less carbon copies of the original trilogy, down to the costumes and hairstyles. Their leader is Kylo Ren, a helmet-wearing cloaked figure who possesses powers of the force and a red lightsaber to instigate his menacing presence. We learn that Luke Skywalker has gone missing for quite some time, and that all of the Jedi are long gone. In fact, his last pupil was Ren, and seeing his turn to the dark side sent him into exile never to return. Unlike Vader in the first couple films, Ren is a divided character, torn between the light and the dark, and his inner battle will surely come into sharper focus given some of his unspeakable actions and family ties to both his father and grandfather.

The scope of the Empire’s weapon in this film is nearly unimaginable, and it makes the Death Star look like a spare tire in comparison. With the power to destroy multiple planets at once, it’s a wonder the entirely of it can be brought down by destroying a bunker no bigger than a football field. Thinking too much about plot holes or the reality of such situations can become overbearing, but then again, this is Star Wars, not a documentary.

Overall, there’s very little to dislike about the film. The action scenes are thrilling and oftentimes beautiful to watch (remember that shot in the first teaser trailer of the Millenium Falcon upside down in the desert? There’s plenty more where that came from). The new characters are sharp and compelling, and the smart script is littered with some of the original trilogy's humor and playfulness. It’s a fresh perspective that makes us realize even more so how misguided the prequels were to begin with.

The ending is nearly perfect and sets up the sequel with so many questions left unanswered. At last, we find Luke Skywalker in his seclusion, and light saber in hand, Rey stands in front of him ready to learn the ways of the force. The buildup to such a quiet moment was well worth it, and even if the sequel is nothing more than these two characters talking for two hours, there’s a whole lot more I would like to hear about. As a passing of the torch to the next generation, Star Wars has been reborn.

The Danish Girl (***1/2)

"The Danish Girl" is two parts "A Beautiful Mind" and one part "The Theory of Everything." Good news for the filmmakers, as both films went on to reap buckets of awards in their respective year. Bad for the typical movie-goer, who will watch this film feeling a sense of deja vu, disappointed that the story is in many ways a retreading of the classic "Oscar biopic" which follows the following the following plotline:


1. Introduce the main character and their lover/partner. Establish they have a healthy relationship
2. Reveal the main character's ailment that will challenge their romance
3. Watch as the characters learn to adapt to said ailment and work through difficult emotional turmoil
4. With love and support, the main character goes on to achieve the impossible (complete with a rousing musical accompaniment)


I'm being too hard on the film, aren't I? Afterall, the director Tom Hooper has won an Oscar for dealing with an historical story in "The King's Speech." He must know how to make a good movie, right? (Oh, we can add "The King's Speech" to that list, too).

Overall, yes. The story, a beautiful and heartbreaking story of a husband and wife (Gerda and Einar), painters, and the discovery that Einar feels as though a woman trapped in a man's body. He feels a tickling sensation when he brushes against lace. His wife plays along and suggests he goes by the name Lili. They go to a party and test a disguise. It's all fun and games until it's not - when Lili feels compelled to fulfill a deep need to transition to a female through and through.

The story is fascinating in the way it shows the dual personalities of husband and wife. Eddie Redmayne (last year's Oscar winner as Stephen Hawking) is simply transformative playing a man who is coming to terms with a new life. He's shy, fearful, and deeply curious - fascinated by a newfound male gaze and the process of daily makeup. His wife, Gerda (Alicia Vikander) is a strong-willed woman who is simultaneously broken-hearted at losing her husband and yet compelled to work on becoming a better professional on her own. It's one of the better female performances of the year - all the better for being a standout in a script that could have given her a few more liberties. At the end of the film, isn't she still a bit too dependent on a man's guidance?

The score is absolutely brilliant (again, last year's Oscar winner Alexandre Desplat), the photography memorable, the costumes unique and the sets convincing. On the basis of an Oscar-contender, we have a sure-fire winner. As I felt with last year's "Theory of Everything," and even more so here, it feels too much like a Hollywood romance presented with no loose ends and pretty bow on top. It's too bad the story took such a drastic departure from the truth, and yet with all the ups and downs, perhaps the movie would have never been made otherwise.

Beasts of No Nation (****1/2)

William Tecumseh Sherman once said "war is hell." Indeed, it's a phrase that has rolled into pop culture, and has been a focus of many films dating back as far as films go. Beasts of No Nation, an independent film released in conjunction with Netflix, is a marvelous and oftentimes dark movie that works to explore just that: that war is an attack on the soul.

It's an African civil war (and I don't even remember what country was setting to the story). Villages are falling apart, people are fleeing as refuges. The story is focused around a young boy named Agu. We first meet him carrying around a TV frame and using his friends to act out "stories" for the amusement of spectators. He is close with his brother, his mother... How much is lost when their entire town is executed and Agu narrowly escapes into the jungle.

He soon finds a militia of guerilla soldiers. Led by a powerful and intimidating Commander (the recognizable Idris Elba), Agu is taken in and sheltered, though in exchange he is developed into a child soldier who must kill the enemy without fear. The psychological breakdown of the child features some of the more disturbing moments in the film, and our first introduction to death comes when Agu's leader gives him a machete, a prisoner, and an order to kill him at this very moment.

Abraham Attah is the boy, a brilliant young actor who just about steals the movie at every turn and oversteps Jacob Tremblay from "Room" to be perhaps the most incredible performance by a youth in a film this year. From his initial requests to simply find his mother again, we trek Agu's descent into the underbellies of war, of sin, all the while we hear his prayers to God to understand that there is no other way. There's a final moment with him where he tries to justify his actions during the war and realizing that he will have to cope with these memories the rest of his life. There's a real weight on his shoulders. It's hard for me to believe that it's anything but the truth coming from this boy's mouth.

The violence in the film is truly brutal, and I was more shocked perhaps to see the majority of the bloodshed coming from these young children's hands. We have heard stories of child warriors and the horrors that come with such a robbery of innocence, but seeing it in the flesh makes it no less a difficult concept to grasp.

And yet I found beauty in the story, the potential for redemption and the gorgeous camerawork that makes this a story worthy of art and discussion. With current events the way they are and the amount of death in the news on a daily basis, "Beasts" was not a film I looked forward to watching with eagerness. I'm still glad I did.

Bridge of Spies (*****)

From Steven Spielberg, I don't think anyone ever expects a film less than stellar, and yet my urgency to see BRIDGE OF SPIES was on the back burner at most. A story of cold war, prison cells, and prisoner exchanges surprisingly didn't tickle my curiosity, and yet here I am convinced that it is one of the better films of the year and surely alongside 'Lincoln' as the director's best work in quite some time.

The intrigue of the Cold War was, I suppose, the lack of guns and the prevalence of quick wit. This wasn't a war of bloodshed but rather the need for information about the enemy. Espionage, as it were, stocked the front lines with men hidden in plain sight, both in America and Russia.

Enter Rudolph Abel (Mark Rylance), a quiet Brooklyn dweller who paints landscapes in the park and self-portraits in the quiet of his apartment. In fact, the front half of the film is dedicated to just that; the portrait of a spy living amongst us. He is arrested, searched, hated, and yet his first thoughts are to tidy up the apartment before being hauled to prison. As a Russian spy, he is even more unassuming given his vague Scottish accent. His birth records indicate he was born in England, but how can we be sure he isn't just making it all up?

As it's America, Abel is given due process of the law, and he is introduced to James B. Donovan (Tom Hanks), an insurance lawyer tasked with defending the man. "If Abel is the most hated man in America, then I'm #2," Donovan remarks during the case. Indeed, his entry into the story isn't one of passion, but as the case grows and evidence is assembled, Donovan can't help but see two things: that were it not for the high publicity of the case the trial would be thrown out, and that Abel is indeed a dignified man of honor.

The relationship between these two men is one of the more intriguing relationships I can remember in a movie. From distrust grows mutual respect, and though they part ways in the end, can the bond they share truly be considered a friendship? Tom Hanks is truly the man for the part, and in every way he bleeds a sense of urgency and dignity to his performance as a man only seeking to do the right thing. Same for Mr Rylance, sure to be an Oscar nominee within a month or two. His quiet and yet memorable turn as the Russian spy is constantly full of surprises and humor. When asked why he doesn't appear scared to be sentenced to death, he plainly remarks "will it help?"

The story is full of depth  and proceeds much further than the Supreme Court hearing (wouldn't any other movie make that the climax as opposed to the midway mark?). We see Donovan cross into Germany during the time of the Berlin Wall's construction. In the search for justice, it seems, he realizes that the importance of saving the life of a spy would benefit America if ever a prisoner exchange were to occur. What follows is a battle of wits and integrity between Donovan and American policy and Germany and Russia.

What's most surprising is the lack of John Williams in the production, nearly unprecedented in Spielberg's nearly 50 year career. The composer instead is Thomas Newman, one of the most established and recognizable musicians in movies today. Following in the vein of a true Williams' score and weaving in a tapestry of his personal style, Newman's work is truly memorable and perhaps could win him his first Oscar after a record 12 losses.

It's easy to take Steven Spielberg for granted. His name has come to represent excellence in movie-making, and yet his films are typically given a quiet ovation. 'Bridge of Spies' is a beautiful story of large proportions that is also an intimate, heartwarming account of a narrow sliver of global history. Here is continued proof why this is a director who will never be matched.