Sweeney Todd

I don't believe Tim Burton is a taste that can be acquired. You either love him, passionately, or you hate him, passionately. So those of you who have never been able to stand a Tim Burton film - and no, Beetlejuice doesn't count - you are now officially dismissed. For the rest of us who can't help but adore Burton's stylized, schizo-weird wonderfulness - it was indeed inevitable that Burton would do Sweeney Todd and just as inevitable that it would star Johnny Depp and Mrs. Burton (Helena Bonham-Carter) and that it would be very, very stylized and very, very gory and very, very wonderful.

For those of you who managed to miss the lengthy Broadway run of Sondheim's macabre musical, here's the gist: Sweeney Todd returns to London after a long unjust incarceration determined to have his vengeance on the judge who sent him away in order to acquire his wife. He falls into company with the rather lovestruck and diabolical Mrs. Lovett and the two of them proceed to off a good deal of the male population of their squalid little neighborhood - he barbering them off the mortal coil and she serving them up as meat pies. Ewwww! How delightful! Trust that there will be lots of white faces with sunken dark eyes, ooodles of gallows humor and gallons of very theatrical blood spurting.

But the really wonderful part is Johnny Depp can sing. No really. He has the presence and the timbre of a rock star, and is all Depp brooding sexuality. sigh. Carter carries a tune pretty darn well herownself and the music is catchy and memorable. Add in a hilarious Sacha Baron Cohen as a rival barber and the impeccable Alan Rickman as the evil Judge Turpin and whoa... you've got a great messy Broadway musical masterpiece ala Burton. Catch the equally cool website here.

Rendition

Movies with a political agenda rarely succeed in furthering their aims. This could be an exception to that rule, if the audience suspected that this was more than fiction. Unfortunately, I doubt that most Americans who saw Rendition believed that what this film portrays is the nature of our reality in a post 9/11 world. Even worse, perhaps they believe that this must be so. In spite of this, Gavin Hood (Tsotsi) gives us a remarkably good film.

It starts with a wrong number to the cell phone of Anwar El-Ibrihimi (Omar Metwally,) an Egyptian born American chemical engineer. This call makes him a suspect in a terrorist bombing and he's plucked off his flight home and spirited to Egypt to face interrogation. The CIA operative in charge (Jake Gyllenhall) has little stomach for the Egyptian methods (oh, the joys of water boarding!) and becomes increasingly convinced he has nothing to tell. In the meantime, El-Ibrihimi's terrified wife (Reese Witherspoon in a rare excellent performance) is trying to move someone to investigate her husbands disappearance and is given the full bureaucratic runaround.

The cast of this film includes Meryl Streep, Alan Arkin and Peter Sarsgaard and there is fine acting all around. The story and it's un-conclusion are chilling - but these are the ethics of our times. Rendition should leave you with lots of questions, but at the very least it's an entertaining evening. See the unremarkable website here, or better, read about a true story of extraordinary rendition here.

Blame it on Fidel!

Most "coming of age" films focus rather myopically on puberty and new found sexuality. It is a rarer thing to find a film that concentrates on a child reaching the age of reason and the realization that there are "others" who have feelings too. Julie Gavras has given us this gem of a film that does just that, with a back drop of social and political unrest. It's quite a worthy study.

Nine year old Anna (a gifted Nina Kervel) has a perfect little life - doting parents, a lovely home, a wonderful nanny who cooks delicious meals and the comfort of catechism class at her private school. But when her aunt and cousin come to stay with them, Anna's world turns upside down. Her upwardly mobile parents abandon their cushy jobs and become radical political activists and all Anna can see is what is being taken away from her - they move to a small apartment and eat peasant food, she is denied religious lessons and the house is suddenly full of bearded men and crying women who talk and eat and take her parents time. Kervel is brilliant at scowling and plotting her revenge and watching her grow to take in new ideas is decidedly prickly. It's hard to root for Anna, but you'll love her all the same.

Set in France in the early 70's Blame it on Fidel! captures an interesting period in world history that I wasn't terribly familiar with, the communist revolution in Cuba followed by the socialist election of Allende in Chile. The fervor of those caught up in these new ways of thinking and the hope for a better world caused a lot of stodgy, traditional folks to think again. Told from the perspective of a child - a child emerging from the familiarity of childhood things toward the horizons of adulthood - this is a sweet metaphor. Well worth an evening... see another review here.

Canvas

Just when you think you'll die of boredom or your last brain cell will commit harikari for lack of stimulation from the likes of Hollywood, some brilliant little film will come out of the nether regions (read 'independent') and renew your faith in human creativity. This is such a film. Written and directed by newbie Joseph Greco, and based loosely on his own childhood experiences with a schizophrenic parent, Canvas is a delight. And more - the doc on Psychflix gives it a big thumbs up for accuracy.
Sweet!

Ten year old Chris Marino ( Devon Gearhart) is living in chaos. His mother Mary (Marcia Gay Harden) has been diagnosed with schizophrenia, and her bizarre behavior embarrasses and confuses him. His father (Joe Pantoliano) is struggling to make ends meet and hold the family together. When a particularly bad turn for Mary lands her in an institution, the elder Chris takes time off work to start obsessively building a sailboat in the driveway, and little Chris thinks both his parents have gone off the deep end and deals with the loss of both parents and the cruel taunts of his peers. This is very real stuff, folks. About life, love and relationship.

Rarely do films about mental illness show the perspective of the family. Although Harden is wonderful in her portrayal of paranoia and pain, the real crux of this film is watching two men, (well, one and a half) deal with real emotion, helplessness and grief. Gearhart is sweet and authentic and Pantoliano is amazing as a man frustrated to the point of exhaustion. There really isn't an ending... but there is hope. Check out the website here.

American Gangster

The story behind American Gangster is intriguing in one of those truth being stranger than fiction sort of ways but, even with a story that is larger than life, Hollywood can find a way to reduce that to the least interesting denominator. This is a BIG story made into a BIG movie with two Oscar winning heavy hitters in the leads and a great BIG fancy Director (Ridley Scott) and writer (Steven Zaillion.) Maybe it was the weight of its own self importance. Maybe it was the length. I was already to have my socks knocked off and found myself a little... bored.

The Return of Superfly was the working title and the story is that of one Frank Lucas (Denzel Washington,) a country boy who drives for a crime boss in 1970's Harlem and learns the bidness really, really well. When his mentor dies suddenly, he takes over the drug trade in the city, finds his own line of supply straight from Vietnam and with impeccable business ethics, outwits the cops and the Mafia to become very, very rich and very, very powerful. Of course, his nemesis Detective Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe) strives with equal nobility to bring him to justice. You just know how this one's going to end.

The interesting part of the story is that in the real world Roberts and Lucas became lifelong friends, despite the whole 'one sending the other up the river for a very long time' thing. Washington and Crowe worked and worked and they had an excellent supporting cast to play with, but again the screenplay didn't hold my attention. The really "interactive to the point of overkill" website is more entertaining.

310 to Yuma

Boys will be boys. Boys love westerns. Westerns have lots of action, shooting, men being men and, you know, dying in the dirt. Westerns sort of took it on the nose as not cool there for awhile, until Dances With Wolves brought them moderately back into fashion. And since the Powers of Hollywood don't have an original thought among them, when someone says 'let's make us a Western,' someone else dug out something to remake. The original (1957) starred Glen Ford. You already know it was better.

The oh so classic western storyline: white hat noble farmer type Dan Evans (Christian Bale) volunteers to see that black hat train robber type Ben Wade (Russell Crowe) actually makes the train that will take him to a fair trial and prison for his multiple misdeeds. Of course, Ben's gang is out to save him and everyone else is quaking in their boots so our hero must do all this alone. In order to impress his smart ass teenage son with his Courage. And make him proud. Probably post mortem. And of course, Dan and Ben will grow to Respect One Another.

Okay, the hokey story line would work better with Glen Ford as Ben and Van Helflin as the doomed Dan. But Western story lines are always just that hokey, and at least this version tries for a little gritty realism in costuming (nobody looks clean at all,) set detail and sound. You have to dig the nifty little way the bullets plink and plunk as they fly about (this actually won an Oscar for sound!) Christian works his over thin booty off, Russell seems to be having fun, but the film is stolen by Ben Foster as the very psychotic Charlie - second in command of the gang and deeply committed to his boss (he's scary and hilarious.) It's entertaining, but you can easily take a potty break without hitting pause.... Check out the website here.

Gone Baby Gone

Ben Affleck is hereby forever to stay behind the camera and Casey Affleck in front. That is my official pronouncement. Based on this film - this is the natural order of things. Gone Baby Gone is based on a Dennis Lehane (Mystic River) novel, which was a good start to begin with, is directed by Ben (who knew?) and Casey is the star. Damn. I am rarely blown away be a directorial debut, but here you go. Ben runs with this story and makes a film, with no small measure of terrific acting, that will hang with you for days.

A little girl goes missing in Boston and the child's aunt hires a couple of young private investigators to look into the part of the neighborhood unlikely to talk to the cops. The more they look the worse it gets, from the hard drug use of the girl's mother, to the questionable demeanor of the cops. Patrick (Casey Affleck) has a bad case of ethics and all these questions stick in his craw, until it all unravels and he's faced with a horrible decision. It's the ultimate game of "what would YOU do?"

The cast is remarkable - including Morgan Freeman, Ed Harris, and Amy Ryan who was nominated for Best Supporting Actress as the drug addled mom. But Ben deserves the credit for creating a gritty, ugly world chock full of unsavory characters (where do they find people who look so... ick?) and making it searingly real. Casey fills Patrick with conscience and noble intention, and aches with the consequences. I was expecting the hero to make some Hollywood style compromise, but... the ending left me speechless. Check out the website here.