AWAY WE GO

Written by Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida
Directed by Sam Mendes
Starring John Krasinski and Maya Rudolph


Burt Farlander: I had a dream about Montreal last week.
Verona De Tessant: Was I topless in it?
Burt Farlander: Yes.

From the moment you see this dilapidated shack of a house, you think how could anyone live here? There is a light on inside so someone must live there. Who could possibly though? It looks as though it could fall in on itself at any moment. And then you see the inside. There is a tool and workstation in the bedroom! What hapless losers call this dump home? Well, that would be Burt Farlander and Verona De Tessant (John Krasinski and Maya Rudolph) and when you meet them, you realize instantly that they deserve so much better. They’re good people who are trying to find their place who haven’t realized yet that they don’t have to stay in one place to find it. They are also just now, both in their early 30’s, waking up to the reality of their adult life and seeing that they’ve got a lot more work to do than they thought. And so away they go in search of a real home in Sam Mendes’s AWAY WE GO.


It might have been the decrepit yet necessary space heater in the living room or the cardboard box that was doubling as a window in the kitchen but it was a lot more likely that it was Verona’s unexpected pregnancy that tipped the couple off. There comes a point in time in our lives when we can no longer just get by on our youthful charms, when we must take specific action to fashion our lives into something we can grow into security or a legacy. That time is now for Burt and Verona. After Burt’s parents (Catherine O’Hara and Jeff Daniels) inform the twosome that they are moving to Belgium for two years, they realize that there is no reason for them to continue living in Colorado as they were only doing so to be close to his parents. All too often, we resign ourselves to what we know and avoid venturing past our safety zones out of fear of the unknown or because of just plain complacency but Burt and Verona have just realized that there is nothing remotely safe about their particular zone. Worse yet, it isn’t home.


This charming road trip film is winning and touching despite its formulaic trappings. After leaving Colorado, Burt and Verona go to Phoenix, Madison and Miami. They even make their way north of the border to Montreal. At each spot, they visit with friends and family in hopes of feeling a connection that might make them want to move there. The premise is inherently episodic as each of these people they meet with has children already and they each have different approaches to proper parenting. There is always something to learn and Mendes does nothing to mask the transparency of their journey. What he does is allow seasoned character actors like O’Hara and Daniels, or Maggie Gyllenhaal, Alison Janney and Chris Messina to bring sincerity and depth to what would otherwise be hollow shells. And with the unavoidably likable Krasinski and the refreshingly honest Rudolph taking us on this ride, even long lulls on the road pass by like a breeze.


AWAY WE GO is the kind of film that makes me wish I had someone to get out there and look for a home with. Burt and Verona are something of a dying breed today. The love they have for each other is deep but practical and at no point in time does either take for granted that they will make it through to the other side without having to do a little work to get there. They also don’t take it all so seriously so as much as they work, they play just as hard. The way in which they play is what gives AWAY WE GO a warmth that I’ve only known from one place before … home.

REVOLUTIONARY ROAD

Written by Justin Haythe
Directed by Sam Mendes
Starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Kate Winslet, Michael Shannon and Kathy Bates


John Givings: Now you’ve said it. Plenty of people are onto the emptiness but it takes real guts to see the hopelessness.

The drive from the train station is not that far. Once you get past the first stretch, home to local folk like plumbers, seamstresses and the like, you turn on to a quaint, quiet road. The house that will hopefully soon be the home to you and your children, present and future, sits atop its tiny slope, understated but proud. As you drive past the other homes, you see the people that inhabit them. The children run under sprinklers; the parents sit on their porches and enjoy their afternoon cocktails. They all look so happy, so home. This is what you need. This is what will make you happy too. This is Revolutionary Road. Only, it isn’t really that. What it is really, is Sam Mendes’ REVOLUTIONARY ROAD, and just like the pretty picture it paints, it isn’t as revelatory as it inherently suggests nor does it bring the happiness you thought it might.


Mendes has been down this particular road before. In the Oscar winning, AMERICAN BEAUTY, Mendes explored the trappings of suburban life. It was hardly revelatory when he did it then but screenwriter, Alan Ball’s unique take on the subject made it feel fresh and relevant. REVOLUTIONARY ROAD is based on Richard Yates’ 1961 novel of the same name. It tells the story of Frank and April Wheeler (Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet), the lovely, new couple who have bought the aforementioned house at the end of Revolutionary Road and who bring with them the promise of youth and vitality. You see, the Wheeler’s are special. Everyone has always said as much. Then they moved to Revolutionary Road. They made their house into a home and filled that home with two wonderful children. It was at this point that they realized that they may not truly be as special as everyone has always said, that perhaps they are not destined for anything greater than what they already have.


Leo and Kate are perfectly cast as the Wheeler’s. More than ten years after TITANIC, the pair are together again and now everyone gets to see exactly what might have happened if the couple had survived the boat going down. (I trust I gave nothing away there.) And while there is nothing romantic about their reunion, they are REVOTIONARY ROAD’s one true revelation. Winslet is remarkable. She is subtly but always at odds with herself inside. She wants to love her life, her husband, and on some level, she does. But she is also yearning and desperate to feel alive. DiCaprio is a bit shaky but while April’s hand is less than reassuring, Winslet’s hand lifts him and elevates his performance to nearly the same level as hers. To watch the two of them go back and forth between being hopeful for their futures and dismally resigned to a lifetime of unhappiness is a ride well worth taking and one that will certainly leave you dizzy by the time it comes to its harrowing close.


The problem with REVOLUTIONARY ROAD is that Mendes seems more concerned in presenting the Wheeler’s as a symbol for the greater point instead of allowing them to just be the relatable characters that they are. Frank and April are special. When we begin to buy into the idea that we are just like everyone else is when we become just like everyone else. When a film tries to make a point instead of just allowing the point to make itself is when a film takes on an importance it did not earn to start. REVOLUTIONARY ROAD could have been beautiful if it wasn’t trying so hard to be the biggest house on the block.

JARHEAD

Written by William Broyles Jr.
Directed by Sam Mendes

Something I like to do before writing a review is avoid writing it. Before sitting down to write this particular piece about Sam Mendes’ war epic, “Jarhead”, I made a quick stop at a local sandwich shop for a large club. Whilst waiting in line, I paused Kanye West’s “Jesus Walks” on my ipod to listen in on the conversation taking place between the young, male sandwich maker and his customer counterpart. The sandwich maker had just seen “Jarhead” the night before and he was very vexed by the experience. You see, he had spent his hard earned sandwich making money on this war flick after not having seen anything on the big screen for a very long time. Imagine his disappointment when he sat through an entire film about the gulf war, the first one, and didn’t get to see any war. I’m paraphrasing here, as I don’t make it a habit to write down everything I hear other people say but his complaint went something like, “You just watch these guys drift around in the dessert forever and nothing happens. Finally it seems like something’s going to happen, they’re gonna get to fight and then nothing. No one fires a single shot.” I snickered silently to myself. Hmmm, I wondered if the sandwich maker would eventually connect his frustration to the infinitely more frustrating experience it must have been to actually be a marine in the Gulf War marching aimlessly through the dessert and never getting to take the shot you’ve trained so thoroughly for or if he’d figure out that his frustration may very well have been the desired effect of the film to begin with. Then | got distracted and wondered if I wanted mayo or Dijon.

In many ways, “Jarhead” is not that different from other war films. There is a loud, foul drill sergeant at boot camp; there are strapping, young men horsing around for no reason in particular other than having pent up sexual energy; there are familiar character types like the unbalanced loose cannon and the quiet, uncomfortable farm boy. What does differentiate “Jarhead” from films it is quite clearly influenced by, like Stanley Kubrick’s “Full Metal Jacket”, is that these soldiers’ war never comes. There are no ultra-violent, intensely choreographed battle sequences in Sam Mendes’ take on the war movie. Instead the soldiers simulate warfare, play football, have drunken parties (thank you whoever you are who decided Jake Gyllenhaal should wear only a Santa Claus hat in this particular scene) and make themselves look useful and sound like appreciative, dedicated soldiers for the media cameras. By the time they’re told the war is on, you may find yourself also excited and anxious for their piece of the action. What they get is more walking through the dessert. What they came across made me nauseous enough to not want a large-scale attack scene anyway. I guess the sandwich maker has a larger bloodlust than I.



Not having the bloodbath to distract us or shatter our naïve impression of how violent war genuinely is leaves us with very little other than the characters themselves to focus on. Whereas Mendes suggestion that these expectations may in fact be what is actually naïve, none of his characters are developed further than boys who think they’re men and want to kill and get back to their girlfriends and wives. Even the central character, Anthony Swofford (played by Gyllenhaal and based on the author who wrote the book the screenplay is based upon) is only given about two minutes of quick flashbacks, giving us some incite into his family history and sex life but not enough to give him any clear storyline to carry the film forward and home. And though cinematographer Roger Deakins frames and lights everything in a beautiful yellow-orange haze and editor Walter Murch keeps the pacing steady as a marine’s march, the characters come off as a bunch of apes in a cage. That may have been what Mendes intended but it isn’t always compelling or engaging. We are detached but so are they.

By testing our patience, Mendes leaves us frustrated and wanting some much-needed release. In addition, he points out that the very disturbing need to kill these men exhibit is inherent in you, me and sandwich makers everywhere. Did you know that was there?