The Air I Breathe

Here I go again. It's good that no one will sue me for having eclectic taste; perhaps I'm just looking for something that the typical film 'critic' isn't... because usually the films that make my socks go up and down are thought provoking. That's the big criteria. Does it get me thinking... does it linger in the back room of my mind for days... do I find myself returning to a scene... and most importantly, does it make me glimpse yet another facet of the ever fascinating human condition? The Air I Breathe did just those things... so I'm unmoved that virtually every paid critic hated it. I found it thought provoking.

Four main characters, representing the four emotional cornerstones of human existence, Happiness, Pleasure, Sorrow and Love, are linked together by luck? destiny? and a really evil crime boss who goes by the name of Fingers (Andy Garcia.) The characters have no names - a fact that only registered with me after it was over - they are archetypes. Happiness (Forest Whitaker) risks everything in an effort to simply have something extraordinary happen. Life is a burden to Pleasure (Brendan Fraser) until his gift of precognition desserts him. Sorrow (Sarah Michelle Gellar) is a sad victim of circumstance who discovers the strength to finally live when Love (Kevin Bacon) offers her the chance to save a life. Their stories are woven together (think Babel or Crash,) and presented in vignettes that are chronologically uneven, but you'll get the point. Two will make it. Two won't.

You'll figure out how an unknown director got this cast in a minute - this is an actors film and they all do a fine job. Andy Garcia is chilling, Whitaker and Gellar take fear and pain to new levels and Fraser stays complicated. It's a violent story well done without going over the top, and I personally enjoyed the fact that the observer is asked to read between the obvious lines. Is the outcome predictable? Perhaps. Was it thought provoking? Definitely. See the (not so great) website here.

Paranoid Park

Gus Van Sant is a weird dude. Okay, that's unfair - he's just not a Hollywood dude and I should add that I don't think that is a bad thing. He just refuses to be categorized. Big time Director with a capital D - sure - think Good Will Hunting, To Die For, Milk. Independent film maker with an eye for teen angst - you bet - My Own Private Idaho, Elephant and Paranoid Park. Likes to thumb his nose at studios and Big Money - well let's remake Psycho... exactly like the original, cheesy dialogue and all but in color. hmmmm.

Paranoid Park is based on a novel by Blake Nelson and is set in a real skatepark in Van Sant's native Portland. Perhaps that is what drew him to the material. The story revolves around Alex (Gabe Nevins) who's disaffection draws him methodically through his days, until the accidental death of a security guard seems to give him a reason to breathe. The skaters, the oblivious adults and the urban blight seem to coalesce into... not much. It's hard not to watch though, lovingly filmed and framed - and Nevins is so pretty.

Sooo, I don't know. Verdict is still out on how Van Sant keeps getting money (even small amounts) to make these sort of ego driven visual cotton candy movies. All shiny and no substance? I have to admit that his fascination with his star is founded (Nevins is a natural, most of the other teens in the film are stilted) if a little creepy in its dedication. But long moments of the camera lingering hungrily on Nevins walking, or skating, or taking off his shirt??? hmmm. Another review here.

Reservation Road

Terry George displayed a gift for handling difficult subject matter with Hotel Rwanda. That was a big story with big implications and Reservation Road is a more subtle thing. Again, with the difficult subject matter, but this time George endeavors to show us both sides of the story - walking a careful line and reserving judgement for the viewer. It is both deft and heartbreaking, and aided (as was Hotel) by some incredibly talented actors.

The story starts with two families wrapping up their weekends. Ethan and Grace (Joaquin Phoenix and Jennifer Connelly) are driving the kids home from a lakeside concert. Dwight (Mark Ruffalo) is racing home late from taking his son to the ball game - an extra innings, angry ex-wife sort of desperation about him. Dwight bolts in fear from the accident that leaves Ethan's son dead on the side of the road. What follows is a sort of descent into hell - Ethan from grief and Dwight from guilt.

This could have been another overdone vigilante film, but it isn't. Ruffalo brings such human vulnerability to Dwight, showing a depth of pain and desperation that easily matches the anger and frustration of Phoenix. The two men show a range of emotion often alien from films with men as protagonists, and the women of the film get to demonstrate some rarely seen female rationality. The ending is just about pitch perfect. Worth the watch... see another review here.

Fugitive Pieces

It is the rare film that stays with you. You know what I mean. The type of thing that haunts your head with images and words that linger and slide past your defenses; snapshots that stick around and crop up in unexpected places. Fugitive Pieces is such a film, so lyrical and lovely and ripe with human experience that I found myself thinking of it as poetry. This is my favorite type of film - one that takes you to another facet of our humanity - and takes you there with all your senses.

Told largely in the fragmentary flashbacks of memory, this is the story of Jakob (Stephen Dillane)who at seven years old watches in terror as his parents are murdered by Nazis in occupied Poland. Jakob escapes to the woods where he is rescued by Athos (Rade Serbedzija)who successfully smuggles him out of Poland to Greece. Jakob is haunted by images of his sister being dragged away, but the war comes to an end and Athos packs them off to live in Canada - far from memories. Despite the love and dedication of his 'godfather' Jakob grows into a brilliant writer but a deeply lonely man as "living with ghosts requires solitude." But through the love of friends, themselves all in some ways victims of the war, Jakob finally makes peace with his ghosts and learns to love, and live, again.

Jeremy Podeswa delivers a masterful adaptation of Anne Michael's novel - beautifully framed and lovingly filmed. The acting is superb and subtle as well; I was particularly smitten with Serbedzija and his expressive eyes. This lovely film may well break your heart, but it demonstrates the ever remarkable ability of the human heart to heal. See more here.