THE AMERICAN

Written by Rowan Joffe

Directed by Anton Corbijn

Starring George Clooney, Thekla Reuten and and Violante Placido

Father Benedetto: You are American. You think you can escape history. You live for the present.

Ordinarily, when Americans travel abroad, they are expected to be boorish, loud and down right disruptive. In Anton Corbijn’s second feature, THE AMERICAN, it is practically the polar opposite. George Clooney plays Jack (or Edward depending on who he is talking to), an assassin on what he hopes to be his last assignment, hidden away in a tiny Italian village, where he expects no one will ever find him. Unlike his American friends, Jack keeps to himself as much as possible and tries to make as little noise as he can but, just like his American friends, he does not leave without disrupting everything.

THE AMERICAN is a very quiet film. Corbijn shows immense growth from his first feature, CONTROL, a black and white ode to Ian Curtis, the tragic lead singer of Joy Division. As promising a start as that was, Corbijn seems to have found a pace and tone that he is not only comfortable with but that he finishes by owning as a distinct style by the close of the film. He manages to maintain a subtly captivating sense of suspense and intrigue despite the fact that very little is actually happening on screen. Jack spends most of his time assembling a weapon for a kill and fighting his desire for a local prostitute (Violante Placido). Still, the real threat that comes with the territory of wanting to end your career as an assassin is forever looming over everything.

Clooney is THE AMERICAN. In fact, he is the only American actor in this whole picture, which only further serves to separate him from his surroundings. Clooney stands out because he chooses to embrace his position as an aging actor, one who is faced with wanting more from life than he has come to know and expect. Jack is no different. He is torn between his American drive to be the best and his human need to retire his crown in the name of deeper ideals. When it comes to depth, America is not always on its strongest legs but fortunately for this American, he’s got some very solid direction from a talented Dutch filmmaker to back him up.

Shearing the Oscars: Best Actor

This weekend, Black Sheep will be taking a closer look at one of the most exciting categories and one of the most infuriating at this year's Academy Awards. As I figure it best to start my weekend on a positive note, I am going to go with exciting to start. The ladies will wait until tomorrow, where apparently I will begin my day with a coffee and a scowl as I muse on their category. Meanwhile, if we could get to the gentlemen, and they all appear to be folks I could say that about, I describe the Best Actor category as exciting because I genuinely feel that they all deserve to be there. Though Bridges definitely has the edge, it is not a lost cause for the other competitors. And the nominees are ...

JEFF BRIDGES as Bad Black in CRAZY HEART


I did not get the chance to review Scott Cooper's CRAZY HEART when it came out but if I had I would have called it pretty good but not amazing. I also would have said that Bridge's incredible performance is the only real reason to see this film. To watch him disheveled and barely able to stand up is to understand how heavy life can get for an alcoholic who has no respect for his own self. His expression is restrained and real but his resonance is staggering. Bridges has been nominated for four Oscars already, the first for 1971's THE LAST PICTURE SHOW and the last for 2000's THE CONTENDER, but he has yet to win. After snagging the Golden Globe and the Screen Actors Guild Award for this role, Bridges does seem somewhat destined.

GEORGE CLOONEY as Ryan Bingham in UP IN THE AIR


Clooney had the momentum going in. He picked up early kudos from the National Board of Review and the New York Film Critics Circle for his smooth work as Ryan Bingham, in Jason Reitman's UP IN THE AIR. The role almost seems tailor made for Clooney, as art imitates what we think we know about his life. Bingham is unattached and approaching 50. He has no interest in settling in one place in particular or holding any one person's hand for too long. Clooney brings so much more than himself to the role though. He brings class and sophistication and such sympathy that he sets the tone for the film to follow. He has lost his edge though and has already won for a supporting role in SYRIANA. He could turn it around but I fear his plane might be grounded.

COLIN FIRTH as George in A SINGLE MAN


I have never really been a big Colin Firth fan. When I caught the North American premiere of Tom Ford's A SINGLE MAN at TIFF this fall though, I was floored by the depth of his range and how much sadness he could carry in his soul. Firth was on hand for the premiere and he could not appear to be more proud of his work and the film itself. The Academy didn't shower A SINGLE MAN with any other love than this nod though so Firth has his work cut out for him. He won awards for his work at the Venice Film Festival as well as from some West Coast critic's associations but so far, he has come up short for anything really big. This is his first nomination and without a major campaign, I can't see this being his first win as well.

MORGAN FREEMAN as Nelson Mandela in INVICTUS


I'm happy to say that with Freeman's and Matt Damon's Supporting Actor nods being the only one's awarded to Clint Eastwood's INVICTUS, it would appear that the Academy's unconditional love for all of Eastwood's work is finally falling off. The best thing about INVICTUS is the acting and Freeman certainly deserves to be nominated for his uncanny interpretation of the former President of South Africa. My criticism, and also why I don't feel this fifth nomination will turn into a second win for Freeman, is that his performance often borders more on imitation.

JEREMY RENNER as Staff Sgt. William James in THE HURT LOCKER


Renner's nod is the only one that doesn't match my Top 5 for the year. I enjoyed him. I felt that he brought different layers to a role that could have been very one-dimensional. I just happened to enjoy another performance more (Michael Stuhlbarg in A SERIOUS MAN). Renner is a fairly fresh face and this is his first nomination. My guess is that he got swept up in the enormous support for Kathryn Bigelow's THE HURT LOCKER and that just being honoured among these other veteran actors is his award.

WHO WILL WIN? Jeff Bridges

WHO COULD STILL UPSET? George Clooney

And so there are the men. Tomorrow, it's the women. I will not be covering the supporting categories as those are pretty much locks already. What do you think? Who do you think will win? And who do you think actually should win? Black Sheep wants to know what you think!

UP IN THE AIR

Written by Jason Reitman and Sheldon Turner
Directed by Jason Reitman
Starring George Clooney, Anna Kendrick, Vera Farmiga and Jason Bateman


Ryan Bingham: To know me is to fly with me. This is where I live.

It isn’t as easy as you might think but writer/director, Jason Reitman has managed to make it into the mile high club on just his third attempt. Though the Oscar-nominated director is still a novice by most standard definitions of the word, his latest, UP IN THE AIR, soars with such grace and ease that you would think he has been piloting these birds for ages now. Sure he has the familial pedigree in his back pocket (Daddy’s name is Ivan, in case you didn’t know) but it is his personal track record that continues to impress. His debut, THANK YOU FOR SMOKING was well, smoking; and his follow-up, JUNO, made him one of the most sought after directors of the day. He is taking a decidedly more adult flight path with his return and, though I appreciated the maturity he brought to the teenage world of JUNO, I am happy to see UP IN THE AIR is an adult-only flight.


Upon take-off, Reitman takes us straight to the skies. In fact, all you can hear is the serene sound of nothing but air as you glide above the clouds. When you look down, you see the states from above, accompanied by a funked out version of “This Land Is Your Land”. Looking down on the land, it looks so pristine and lustrous. The orderly lines that divide the grounds and the huddled masses of tall buildings look to provide a solid structure in which to foster those American dreams everyone is always talking about. But when the plane lands, it becomes pretty clear pretty quick that life on the ground is an illusion to those looking down on it. On the ground, America is crumbling. People are losing their jobs, their security and their hope. This is where “he” comes in …


A passenger on this flight and our humbled protagonist, is George Clooney, I mean, Ryan Bingham. I get them confused because they both seem to be aging players who have refused their entire lives to ever being weighed down by anything or anyone. Clooney of course is one of the most famous bachelors on the planet. Ryan may not be famous but he is famous to those who do know him for keeping himself up in the air, if you will, as often as he can. Ryan travels across the United States and fires people for a living. He shows up at an office and calls people he has never met in one by one to tell them that their position no longer exists because these companies don’t have the decency to do it themselves. When he isn’t telling people that they no longer have the means to support their families, he moonlights as a motivational speaker who insists that families are life’s biggest trap.


Ryan is still a likeable guy despite all these things. He doesn’t get off on firing people; it is just how he makes his living and it affords him the lifestyle that suits him best. Another reason he endears is because Clooney plays him so smoothly. You could say it isn’t much of a stretch for him but playing Ryan and going through everything he does means seeing a Clooney that is finally accepting his own mortality and questioning what kind of meaning his later years will hold for him. When his boss (Jason Bateman) informs him that his job may become locally executed, Ryan realizes that his grounding means that life will finally stop moving at 500 miles an hour. Meanwhile, the girl he is showing the professional ropes to (Anna Kendrick) reminds him of what it means to be young and how to believe in the possibilities people offer and the woman he is romantically roped up with (Vera Farmiga) suddenly seems like that possibility.


UP IN THE AIR may touch on some fairly contrived topics and set itself in an all too timely milieu but with Reitman in the captain’s chair, the flight is completely turbulence free. Reitman has crafted a poignant reflection on where America is right now, in terms of the economy and their value system, that is always insightful and never judgmental. He pulls performances from his cast that are so fine in their restraint and their candidness. He puts it all together with style and finesse and, by taking to the lofty skies, he cements himself as a great modern storyteller. Perhaps most importantly, in what is so often called the darkest period America has had to face in years, Reitman somehow pays homage to how trying it all is while reminding us that it is also perfectly acceptable to laugh.

Black Sheep Previews: UP IN THE AIR

You might have seen this already but I wanted to throw it up here as I had the chance to catch the whole thing at TIFF last week. Director, Jason Reitman, has only made three feature films to date - JUNO and THANK YOU FOR SMOKING before this - and his latest, UP IN THE AIR, proves that he is a director with a clear vision and a concise approach to storytelling. His pictures are always crisp and clean and, while that may turn off some looking for rougher edges, I find it only allows for the details and the subtleties to break through.

UP IN THE AIR stars George Clooney as a modern day nomad. He has a one-bedroom apartment in Omaha but he ordinarily spends less than 50 days a year there. His home lies somewhere between the airports he flies to and the hotels he stays in. Clooney brings his own life into the picture for this eternal bachelor character and the supporting cast - Vera Farmiga, Anna Kendrick and Jason Bateman - are all excellent characters unto themselves, hence redefining the term "supporting".

UP IN THE AIR will certainly generate a lot of buzz this coming awards season and rightfully so. Look for it in theatres this December.

Black Sheep TIFF Review: THE MEN WHO STARE AT GOATS

I’m not sure what I was expecting considering the title. I can say that what I got from Grant Heslov’s new film, THE MEN WHO STARE AT GOATS, I could never have expected even if I tried. Heslov tells you right away that most of what you’re about to see is truer than you would think, which implies that at least some of what you’re about to see is a fat lie. What actually follows is so entirely ludicrous that it’s hard to imagine it as either made up or the truth. The other thing I wasn’t expecting before going in was laughing as hard and as often as I did.


Ewan McGregor is back in familiar territory as an earnest, likeable lead. He plays reporter and underachiever, Bob Wilton. His wife has just left him and he has, in turn, left the United States for Iraq. It is 2003 and he wants to prove to the world and himself that he is worth something by writing the best post-Iraq war feature ever written. He decides the best angle for his story is to be found with Lyn Cassidy (George Clooney). Cassidy, an army man himself, used to roll with the U.S. Army’s New Earth Division, a division based on the principal that peace is the only thing that can actually win a war and that takes from the paranormal studies to develop its weaponry and calls its top soldiers Jedi warriors. Cassidy himself is said to be able to stare at goats long enough to make their hearts stop. How the U.S. army could have funded any of this is beyond me but it was … or at least some of it was.


I’ll be honest; I am not sure whether Heslov is suggesting that this approach is just as nonsensical as the military methods that we’re familiar with now or that war makes no sense no matter what your plan of attack is. All I know is that when McGregor asks Clooney what a Jedi warrior is, the theatre erupts in laughter. Now, that’s using the force.

Revisiting MICHAEL CLAYTON

Written and Directed by Tony Gilroy
Starring George Clooney, Tom Wilkinson, Tilda Swinton and Sydney Pollack


This Friday, Tony Gilroy's follow up to the Oscar nominated MICHAEL CLAYTON, DUPLICITY, hits theatres. Before Black Sheep takes a look at the repairing of Clive Owen and Julia Roberts, we would like to look back at Gilroy's thrilling directorial debut.

This is a movie about a man, precisely a man named Michael Clayton (George Clooney). The man behind the man is writer/director, Gilroy, (the man behind the words of another famous man you may know as the moniker of the Bourne series) and he is not the least bit interested in pandering to his first audience as a director. Each early scene establishes characteristics of Mr. Clayton’s personality that none of us would have necessarily expected. What we’re given is an intriguing, if not somewhat broken man, caught at a pivotal time in his life. The action does start shortly after all this establishment and while I may not have known Mr. Clayton to begin with, I certainly finished by wanting to know more.


Clayton is a lawyer who no longer litigates in a courtroom but whose major purpose is to clean up messes made by other lawyers in the firm that employs him. Originally, Clooney wanted to direct this project and had refused to star in it if it were to be directed by a first time director. Gilroy somehow convinced him of otherwise and it’s a very good thing he did. Clooney’s portrayal of Clayton is subtle and understated, certainly one of his finest. He is also surrounded by fiercely talented performances by Tom Wilkinson as a man on the brink of delusion and Tilda Swinton in an Oscar-winning performance as a corporate head who can barely keep that head above water. And while it is certainly the least showy performance, Sydney Pollack's turn as Clayton's boss should not go unnoticed as it was his last performance before his death last year.


Gilroy is one of the smartest writers in Hollywood these days and with MICHAEL CLAYTON, he reintroduces himself as an impressively meticulous director, crafting an intelligent thriller that brings more attention to the hero than most films do. By doing so, he makes it apparent that heroes are humans too and there is always more going on that you don’t know a thing about. I have now seen the film three times and it only gets better.

What to rent, what to rent ...

The last piece of turkey has finally been devoured by the dog; the dishes have been crammed into the dishwasher; and the last house guests have taken their gifts and gone home. You can finally change into the jammies your mom bought you and plop yourself down in front of the TV for some much needed and well deserved down time. Luckily for you, there are plenty of great releases available to rent just in time for precisely this moment in time. You’re even luckier still because Black Sheep is make sure that moment isn’t followed by a bad movie.


If you're in the mood for entirely off the cuff, whacked out comedy, plenty of A-list celebs and hearty laughs on top of it all, then the Coen Brothers' BURN AFTER READING is perfect for you. The premise itself is certainly amusing, if not a little scattered, but it is the top-notch ensemble that solidifies this work as quintessentially Coen-esque. Regulars like George Clooney and Frances McDormand return as two particularly kooky people who find each other online while pretending to be different versions of themselves. Tilda Swinton and John Malkovich are a married couple on the way to divorce. Both are, to a fault, cold and crazed respectively, as well as formidable performers. Richard Jenkins turns in another self-effacing, understated performance (after this year’s THE VISITOR) that should nab him more work with high profile directors. And while all of these performances are top notch and so delightfully exaggerated, it is Brad Pitt that shines brightest for the simple reason that he is entirely ridiculous. Pitt plays Chad Feldheimer, a fitness trainer who has perhaps been running on endorphins for one too many laps, and the only character in this film who isn’t pretending to be anything he isn’t. This could have a lot to do with his character not being smart enough to pull off disguise but Pitt himself is more than capable. We never quite forget that we’re watching Pitt but that’s what makes his unbridled exuberance as he bounces around to the music in his headphones so darn funny.


Now I know that when it comes to famliy film, I can clearly not say enough aout WALL-E, but I actually have an alternative for you that you may have forgotten about considering it took from March until now for this film to finally get its home release. HORTON HEARS A WHO! is by far the funniest big screen Dr. Seuss adaptation I've ever seen and plenty of great lessons for the kids to learn while you leave them to watch for hours on end in front of the TV. When the book was originally published in 1954, Dr. Seuss gave his young readers an important lesson about how any voice, no matter how small it may appear to be, can change the world. Screenwriters, Ken Dario and Cinco Paul, have developed the confidence-boosting tale into a much grander take on societal hierarchies, the power of the imagination and the possibility that we are not alone in this universe. The very big elephant, Horton (voiced in a lovably whimsical fashion of fancy by Jim Carrey), randomly finds the tiniest world in the most unexpected of places, a spec of dust that has flown past him to eventually rest comfortably on a clover. It turns out that this world is known as Whoville. It plays home to hundreds if not thousands of Who’s and is run by a Who known only as The Mayor. You can only imagine The Mayor’s surprise when Horton finally makes contact with him. Now imagine that surprise voiced by the self-deprecating, neurotic genius of Steve Carrell. Together, Carell and Carey play perfectly off each other as their performances are based in the knowledge that Horton and The Mayor are not nearly as different as they initially appear. Though one is huge and one is small, they both know the meaning of responsibility and importance of helping all who need.


And for all you Christmas matriarchs out there, I have just the thing for you. Sure, you could rent MAMMA MIA! and sing along with your girlfriends one night but when you want a good, deep cry, pick up the underrated period piece, THE DUCHESS. Keira Knightly carries the weight of this film on her shoulders while carrying the weight of the wigs on her head with poise and prominence. Her big brown eyes go from playful to shy to distraught and defeated. When we first meet her, she is free and seemingly unaware of the heavier world outside of her backyard games. Before long though, she is face to face with adulthood. This particular face belongs to Ralph Fiennes as the Duke of Devonshire. It is here that director, Saul Dibb steps in to add another layer to the played out trajectory. With an age difference that is only matched in vastness by the distance between them, the Duke undresses his Duchess and asks why women’s clothing must be so complicated. There is no better occasion for small talk than before two practical strangers go to bed for the first time. Knightly, trying desperately to hide her nervousness, replies to the obviously rhetorical question though, claiming that this is the only way for women to express themselves in the times they live in. It is clear she is not sure that a reply is necessary or even allowed but it is also clear that she speaks to ensure that she is seen, that her person is present. Her clothing falls to the floor and the imprints of her corset can still be seen on the smooth of her back. THE DUCHESS is shocking on many levels but perhaps mostly in how harsh it is underneath its polished finish and how new this old tale feels.

Now, get out there and rent, rent, rent!

BURN AFTER READING

Written and directed by Joel Coen and Ethan Coen
Starring George Clooney, Frances McDormand, John Malkovich, Tilda Swinton and Brad Pitt


Osborne Cox: With all due respect, what the fuck is this? Whose ass did I forget to kiss?

The now infamous Coen brothers make a lot of movies and they know that people out there see a whole lot of movies too. A population distracted by constant film watching is a population led to see the world in a truly dramatic fashion. Finding a computer disc in the ladies locker room of a fitness club would ordinarily be just another occasion to throw something left behind in a lost and found box, likely never to be reclaimed. If you’ve seen one too many movies though, and you don’t have a whole lot going on in your own little life, you might see finding this disc as an opportunity to blackmail the owner of said disc for contents you believe to be top secret C.I.A. intelligence. There’s just one thing the movies don’t tell you about capers such as these though, and that is that none of it is real. In BURN AFTER READING, the Coens decide it’s time for a little fun and serve up a hearty dose of signature comedy that both highlights the influence of film and perpetuates it further at the same time.


BURN AFTER READING begins with a thunderous, percussion heavy score and an all too familiar opening shot of the planet we call home. Slowly but persistently, the worldview becomes more focused and as we descend, we zero in on the city of Washington. The titles appear on the screen, digitally processed as though you were reading them off a computer. Have the Coens made a super spy movie, I wondered, and with that, they had me exactly where they wanted me. Though you wouldn’t know it from the way they speak in public, the Coens are big jokers; they like to play with their audiences. They get you thinking one way and then take you in a whole other direction. It’s almost like they’re laughing at you sometimes but really, they just want you to have as much fun as they seem to be having. And fun is to be had in BURN AFTER READING. After perfecting the art of suspenseful drama with last year’s NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, the brothers have returned to more familiar waters for zaniness that is entirely offbeat while still sharp and biting.


The premise itself is certainly amusing, if not a little scattered, but it is the top-notch ensemble that solidifies this work as quintessentially Coen-esque. Regulars like George Clooney and Frances McDormand return as two particularly kooky people who find each other online while pretending to be different versions of themselves. Tilda Swinton and John Malkovich are a married couple on the way to divorce. Both are, to a fault, cold and crazed respectively, as well as formidable performers. Richard Jenkins turns in another self-effacing, understated performance (after this year’s THE VISITOR) that should nab him more work with high profile directors. And while all of these performances are top notch and so delightfully exaggerated, it is Brad Pitt that shines brightest for the simple reason that he is entirely ridiculous. Pitt plays Chad Feldheimer, a fitness trainer who has perhaps been running on endorphins for one too many laps, and the only character in this film who isn’t pretending to be anything he isn’t. This could have a lot to do with his character not being smart enough to pull off disguise but Pitt himself is more than capable. We never quite forget that we’re watching Pitt but that’s what makes his unbridled exuberance as he bounces around to the music in his headphones so darn funny.


Despite the title, nothing actually gets burnt after being read at any point in the film. The act itself though is so dramatic that to name your movie this essentially announces the intended tone. BURN AFTER READING definitely makes good on its promise and has a blast doing it. The Coen Brothers are sitting pretty atop their throne as two of Hollywood’s most celebrated filmmakers and their latest plays out almost effortlessly. Even switching over to a new cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki (rather than long time collaborator, Roger Deakins), happens without a beat missed. It’s as though they could do all of this in their sleep. Now, that would be one hell of a dream that would make one heck of a good movie. We just have to make sure we can spot the difference between that and the real thing.

LEATHERHEADS

Written by Duncan Brantley and Rick Reilly
Directed by George Clooney
Starring George Clooney, Renee Zellweger, John Krasinski and Jonathan Pryce


Reporter: They got a completely different style; how are you going to adjust to that?
Carter Rutherford: Maybe they’ll just adjust to me.

Every seat in the stands is filled. The screams from the crowd almost eclipse the sound of the marching band. It is 1925 and both the country and its interest in college football is thriving. Meanwhile, at a game just a few fields away, a spectator could practically get an entire bench to themselves; a cow on the field goes unnoticed; and the entire thing could be called off because there is no spare football to be found when the game ball goes missing. Given today’s interest in the sport, it seems implausible to say but this second game is actually being played by the professionals. Apparently, back in the 20’s, America encouraged their young men to get on the field and toss the ball around for their amusement but expected them to grow up and be real men once college and the game were done. LEATHERHEADS, George Clooney’s third time behind the lens of a feature film, follows one man’s refusal to play by the rules and his quest to legitimize the boys who would rather play than become productive members of society.


With Randy Newman’s swing jazz score keeping the tone lively and the entire cast generally looking like they’re having a blast, it is a wonder that LEATHERHEADS falls as flat as it does. It’s got the look, the style and the attitude but it lacks the luster and the laughs necessary to transport the audience to a time when comedy meant screwball instead of raunchy. First time feature writers, Duncan Brantley and Rick Reilly, go back over 80 years to tell their story but while recreating the proper language lends to the credibility of the scenario, writing in jokes that are just as old as the story itself does nothing to inspire a single guffaw. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. A guy and a gal are having words and the lady says, “I didn’t come here to be insulted.” Without pause, the man retorts, “No, where do you usually go?” You aren’t laughing, are you? I told you to stop me. Still, it may be unfair to lay the blame entirely on Brantley and Reilly as the script itself has a few years on it. Originally written over fifteen years ago, only a few original scenes made it into Clooney’s revised version but with the bare essentials intact, Clooney was not awarded any writing credit for his overhaul.


This particular caper finds Clooney as Dodge Connolly, a forty-five year old professional football player that has no other skills other than playing it rough on the field. When his team seems to be headed for extinction due to lack of interest and therefore funds, he must make the country take notice of professional football or find a real job. To do this, he enlists Carter “The Bullet” Rutherford (Krasinski) out of college ball and turns him pro. This puts the crowds in the seats instantly and draws the attention of the media to a franchise they thought to be fumbling. One journalist in particular, Lexie Littleton (Zellweger), is sent in from Chicago to debunk the star player and soon enough, both Dodge and The Bullet are vying for her attentions. Clooney’s got his Cary Grant face on, Zellweger’s back in her Roxie Hart mode and Krasinski’s just got a face that beams with earnestness that you can’t help but love the guy. All around, the film is perfectly cast but everyone plays their part by the book. Funny how a film that makes such a strong statement about how rules ruined the game of football is so afraid of breaking any.


Clooney is a formidable director. His last effort, GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD LUCK, earned him well-warranted accolades and he proves once again with LEATHERHEADS that he is capable of assembling all the proper elements necessary to design a particular tenor. His issue here is that there are perhaps too many factors to consider and he loses sight of the whole and how that final product will come across to the audience. Unlike the players on the field, Clooney seems afraid to dive into the mud and get his film a little dirty. Every aspect is so polished but the game just isn’t as exciting if nobody gets their uniform dirty. And just because a play works on paper, doesn’t mean it will score your team a touchdown.

BLACK SHEEP @ THE 32ND ANNUAL TORONTO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL II

PERSEPOLIS and MICHAEL CLAYTON


Saturday was supposed to be my big movie day at the festival. The weather report was calling for rain and there were plenty of films playing all day that I was dying to see. There was just one small snag to get past. Going into the weekend, I only had one ticket purchased for the entire day and everything else I wanted to see was sold out. This brings me to my one complaint about the Toronto Film Festival. This is not a festival for the people. The regular filmgoer is first weeded out by the cost of a ticket. Regular screenings sell for $17.95 plus applicable taxes and service fees if purchased online. This may seem exorbitant but it is nowhere near as pricey as the cost of a gala or Visa screening. These elite projections go for $37.95. I suppose the rationale is that they are often high profile films having their world or North American premieres and will most likely be attended by the directors and stars. My Friday night alone, which consisted of just two films, cost me almost $85. That was hard to swallow at first but I became appreciative of these tickets as it was beginning to seem like they might end up being my only tickets. When the general onsale finally happened, there had been so many pre-sale opportunities for Visa gold or platinum customers that the only ticket I was able to get was to watch a restored print of Jean Renoir’s LA GRANDE ILLUSION. I spent the entire day trying to get through to the festival box office and when I finally did, the operator who had clearly had one of the longest days of his life, simply told me that if the website said the show was sold out, then it was. I was not amused as the website specifically referred me to the box office in the event the film had no tickets available online.


Tickets for gala screenings were going for as high as $400 dollars online. It was mind boggling to me that anyone would pay that much to see any movie, no matter who was going to be in attendance at the screening. I thought about this while I waited in the regular ticket holders line and watched all the Visa gold or platinum ticket holders walk past me into the theatre when many of them had not been there as long as I had. This was a festival for the privileged. I was certainly privileged to be there but not every cinephile can afford, or is silly enough to justify being able to afford, the prices at TIFF. Going to TIFF was, for many, not about the movies but rather about being seen at the movies. The privilege is not appreciating the film itself but rather telling your friends and colleagues that you caught the world premiere of this movie or that movie and you were sitting three seats away from Cate Blanchett when you did. Luckily for my day, I managed to find people online who were looking to unload their tickets to PERSEPOLIS and MICHAEL CLAYTON at prices that resembled what they paid for them (an easy $55 for the set). And fortunately for my piece of mind, I was sitting in front of two devout cinephiles at GRAND ILLUSION, who went on before the screening about the many films they had already seen so early into the festival and how great the festival was after so many years. The passion is still afire for those who can afford it. It was Tony Gilroy, MICHAEL CLAYTON writer/director, who said it best before his film screened that Saturday afternoon. It went a little something like, ”You are all so lucky to live somewhere where something like this takes place.” So true, Tony, considering I’ve heard it ain’t cheap to live there either.


PERSEPOLIS was by far the best film I saw at the festival. Based on Marjane Satrapi’s highly lauded graphic novel of the same name, PERSEPOLIS is her biographical account of what it was like growing up in Iran during both a revolution and a war. It is mostly black and white, entirely hand drawn and always captivating. Her story is heartbreaking and enlightening. As a precocious your girl, she was easily influenced by her surrounding family and their progressive, humanistic ideals. Her family had convictions and integrity and these were not so much passed on to Marjane so much as awakened within her at an early age. Despite an abundance of love surrounding her amidst such political turmoil, Marjane still develops into a very lonesome figure who goes inside of herself in search of understanding and does not return for many a year. Her journey is sometimes painful and sometimes hilarious but it is the intimate, personal frankness that makes you feel privileged for being privy to it. The richness of the story is only further enhanced by the stark beauty of the style. PERSEPOLIS is a unique experience that will find a special place in your soul while it exposes you to worlds unknown.


The festival has screenings all over town. They have a convenient online schedule that shows how long each film is and whether or not your choices will overlap but they often do not start on time and not being familiar with the terrain made it difficult to assess travel times between venues. I needed again to grab a cab to my next screening, MICHAEL CLAYTON, at Ryerson University, in order to make it on time. Luckily, I did, lucky for a couple of reason. First, I was able to find a reasonable seat and secondly, lucky because the movie was pretty solid. It is slick, stylish and stellar from the start but still somewhat unfocused. This is a movie about a man, precisely a man named Michael Clayton (George Clooney). Writer/Director, Gilroy, is not interested in pandering to his audience but it makes the beginning of his film a bit clunky. Scene after scene establishes characteristics of Mr. Clayton’s personality but this is before any of us has been given the chance to care to know anything about him. The action does start shortly after all this establishment and while I may not have cared to begin with, I certainly finished by wanting to know more. Clayton is a lawyer who no longer litigates in a courtroom but whose major purpose is to clean up messes made by employees of the firm that employs him. Gilroy is one of the smartest writers in Hollywood these days, having written the entire Bourne series. With MICHAEL CLAYTON, he tries his hand at directing and crafts an intelligent thriller that brings more attention to the hero than most films do. By doing so, he makes it apparent that heroes are humans too and there is always more going on that you don’t know a thing about.


While I may not have had the privileged experience those with more money and clout have at this festival, I must say that I certainly feel privileged for the opportunity to see such wonderful films. All in all, it was a beautiful day.
Next ...
Part Three:
3:10 TO YUMA
INTO THE WILD

OCEAN’S 13

Written by Brian Koppelman and David Levien
Directed by Steven Soderbergh


Turk Malloy: Is it in yet?
Virgil Malloy: I hate that question.

I am a member of minority group. This group is made up of a small number of people who actually enjoyed OCEAN’S 12. Sure it was somewhat unbelievable and occasionally ridiculous but it kept a good groove on while filling the screen with some slick style. The boys all looked like they were having a good time, perhaps too good a time. Maybe audiences felt like they had taken it all too far; that the Ocean gang was having fun without them. And so, a director and a cast who generally don’t seem to pay much heed to appeasing the masses, have returned to the original scene of the crime, Las Vegas, for their third and final caper in OCEAN’S 13. The main goal for this reunion is to make up for their supposed misfire last time out and every possible effort to do so is made diligently. With the exception of Julia Roberts, the original players have all returned. From Clooney to Pitt to Damon to Affleck (no, not that one, the younger one), the stars are all out. Even Al Pacino has come on board to lend more weight to this already heavy load. And with Mr. Style himself, Steven Soderbergh, at the helm, the dream is kept alive. So why then, with every element so perfectly placed, has the fun disappeared almost entirely?


Perhaps perfection is part of the problem. The Ocean gang is a smart bunch, crafty fellas. They are also often prone to making mistakes. The situations they find themselves in stem from their own decisions and almost always lead them to the brink of unraveling. The cracks they need to squeeze through get tighter and tighter, creating both intrigue and urgency for the viewer. OCEAN’S 13 finds Danny Ocean et al plotting sweet revenge against Willie Bank (Pacino) for putting Ocean member, Reuben Tishkoff (Elliott Gould), in the hospital after screwing him out of a huge hotel/casino deal. The plan is to ruin his prestigious grand opening and milk him for hundreds of thousands of dollars all in one night. The execution is vast, ranging from rigging the dice at the source of manufacturing in Mexico to orchestrating an earthquake to disarm the stronghold security system that stands between them and the prize. Clearly, the good guys are going to win but never does it feel that there is a chance this might not happen. The urgency and intrigue were bet and lost.


Pacino is a welcome addition to the mix. His portrayal of hotel mogul, Willie Banks, is so sinister and egotistical that you can’t wait for the Ocean boys to bring him down. However, while Pacino is stepping it up, Clooney and Pitt might as well have had their stand-ins play their parts. The camaraderie that brought such joy and laughs to the Ocean film experience in the past has grown tired. When the boys laugh now, it almost seems like the joke is on us; that getting us into the theatre with their pretty faces was all they were obliged to do. Once there, entertaining us was not part of their contract. These two haven’t left it to just showing up for work in a while and the effect weighs you down. Luckily, Damon, Affleck, Scott Caan and Don Cheadle are still working for their paychecks, bringing wit, charm and humility to an often-lifeless script. Sadly, the sporadic laughs are not enough to call this film funny, or even fun for that matter.


So if OCEAN’S 13 isn’t fun, what is it? Well, it’s neatly packaged and pristinely presented. Soderbergh has a fantastic eye. He has a knack for crafting colorful films that are visual worlds unto themselves, which draw the viewer in to a point where the real world can look somewhat drab in comparison once you leave them. Only this time out, he spent too much time setting everything up that no room was left for error or chance. It’s like a perfectly dealt hand that just isn’t played with any finesse. It’s ironic really how a film set against the gambling capital of the world takes so few risks. Soderbergh sets out to distract the audience with OCEAN’S 13, like any good casino would. With all the flashing lights, pretty colours and fireworks, you might not realize that you’ve been playing the slots for longer than you should.

SYRIANA

Written & Directed by Stephen Gaghan

As human beings, we are able to detach ourselves from injustices and hardships taking place throughout the rest of the world. Disassociation is not merely a capability, it is often a necessity for survival of the mind. Film going is often thought to be a primary means of exercising this need. Escaping into the dark of the cinema to avoid the world’s problems is both common and effective, even when dealing with more personal problems instead of the global variation. The whole theory is threatened by films like, “Syriana”, a film that makes sure you’ve been punched in the stomach and spit on while lying on the floor recovering before exiting the cineplex. The realism of the oil industry, from the US government corruption trickling all the way down to illegal workers on the verge of becoming suicide bombers in Iran is difficult to completely grasp, even more troublesome to digest, yet still a topic that needs more awareness brought to it. What becomes easy to forget when you’re trying strongly to focus on how vast this particular reality reaches is that this is actually not reality; it is still a movie after all. It is a reality shaped by the vision of director Stephen Gaghan.

Gaghan is the Academy Award winning screenwriter of “Traffic” and the construction of this new story comes together much the same way. There are three separate storylines that intersect each other throughout while becoming clearer as the end draws closer. As a director, this is only Gaghan’s second project and a definite step up from his previous effort, the Katie Holmes thriller, “Abandon”. He keeps the viewer engaged and affected throughout, showing as much strength and control as “Traffic” director, Steven Soderbergh. The difference between the two is Soderbergh’s ability to better balance the time spent on your toes and the time spent clutching your chest in pain. The scope of Gaghan’s script is too vast to be fully absorbed, leaving the viewer moved but not clearly understanding why. I respect Gaghan’s ability to pick up a scene at any given time without over explaining every tangent or spending too much time contextualizing the viewer but this can leave the viewer feeling removed … not the desired effect when your hopes as a director lie in educating the viewer on this poignant topic. Thank goodness for home theatre and multiple screenings.


What is missing is a more human element while at the same time, most of the human elements involved seem unnecessary. Again, going back to “Traffic” (as you will find yourself unable to resist comparing the two as well), the majority of the drug-related threats were personalized, tying the string between the drug lords mass-producing their product to the street kids and upper class privileged buying the junk. Here, the players’ humanity is incorporated to give them some characterization, depth. With so much happening in their professional lives, their personal lives seem superfluous and consequently lend nothing to their motivation, eventually being ignored and mostly unfinished. The most personalized focus comes from George Clooney’s portrayal of Bob Barnes, an agent with the CIA who seems just as lost and caught up in this cyclone of corruption, greed and power as we are. Clooney’s performance begins so quietly, so passively, and builds like a rumbling beneath your feet before a natural disaster strikes. Getting on in years and always well intentioned, Barnes no longer knows who controls his life, only that it is not himself. He has much to say but cowers when given the chance to say it. To a large extent, he has given up trying to make change. Clooney plays Barnes as exhausted, apathetic and frustrated without having the drive to change that. He has been telling the same lies and making the same deals for so long, he no longer questions to what goal they contribute. He has not been corrupted but he turns away his eyes to every command he executes under the moral armor that his decisions are not his own. Only they are.

Gaghan’s camera is constantly positioned either very close or very far from the action, sometimes within the same scene. The effect is a varied degree of understanding, that we are closer to the problem than we think one minute and then detached and removed, lost the next, with numerous obstacles obstructing our view. We try to piece together the connection between the American government, the Saudi monarchy, the corporate control, the legal whitewashing and the resulting racism that instills fear and lack of understanding of everything Arab and hatred of America by the Arab people. I walked in with a vague understanding of the interconnectedness of all these issues and left “Syriana” with the concrete knowledge that it is oh so much more complicated than I originally thought.