"La Notte" (1961)

There's a certain point in relationships where you have been together with someone for so long that it becomes difficult, if not impossible, to imagine that other person not being in your life. And when you add in marriage into the equation, this magnifies tenfold. Where you might not have been willing to forgive a small lapse in a longstanding partnership, you will be much more likely to forgive and forget transgressions when married. It is not only difficult to see yourself without the other person, but you just don't want to deal with the complications and difficulties that would come if you broke things off. But the other person also knows you better than anyone else, and you them, and, when you reach older and older ages, you just don't want to have to worry about and deal with being single and unsupported. This is exactly the point in a relationship La Notte's picks up with.

Giovanni (Marcello Mastroianni) and Lidia (Jeanne Moreau) don't love each other anymore. They tolerate one another, and they avoid the prickly subject matter of Giovanni's infidelity (which he has done on more than one occasion since the film began). They don't want to be together, but they also can't imagine not being together. Writer-director Michelangelo Antonioni purposely separates them for much of the story, as they can't seem to stand being around one other. Whenever they are together though, they're stilted and formal. Giovanni talks about only himself, and Lidia is tired of listening. Giovanni doesn't realize just how good he has it.

Cinematographer Gianni Di Venanzo emphasizes the loneliness, isolation and longing of the couple. The film is gorgeously moody. But Antonioni also trusts Moreau's face to convey the depths of her depression and unhappiness. It's a beautifully understated film, and nowhere is this more apparent than in Moreau's performance. Mastroianni's character is flashier; he's a brooding writer, trying to find muses in all the wrong places, when he should have long since been drawing inspiration from his wife.

Antonioni provides a clear-sighted and bittersweet portrait of a disaffected marriage on its last leg. The couple consistently finds themselves near or within crowds, particularly once they arrive at a party that neither wishes to be at. But both of them, for the most part, seem to be miles and miles away from those around them. Lidia offers up the suggestion that they go out and do something; it's a desperate last ditch effort to try to stir up whatever chemistry and connection exists between them. But they end up talking past one another (and that's when they're talking at all). Yet sometimes people would rather have someone to talk past, rather than no one to talk to at all. However, listening and hearing are often times very different things though. By the time Giovanni and Lidia do the latter, it's much too late.

Grade: ★★★

"Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!" and the Horrors of Addiction (and Relationships)

Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! is a film about addiction. Though it seems like a psycho-sexual drama, it often plays more like a horror film. The return of the repressed, Marina's (Victoria Abril) former heroin addiction, comes in the form of Ricky (Antonio Banderas). Ricky is obsessed with Marina, after a previous one night stand that she can't even recall, and kidnaps Marina in order to make her fall in love with him. Much of this plays out in protracted sequences where Ricky threatens Marina's life and limb if she does not cooperate with his crazed fantasy. After leaving a mental ward, Ricky sets about stalking her, like a horror villain eying his prey. Ricky believes he can will her into growing feelings for him. Through some unsettling Stockholm Syndrome, Marina begins slowly falling for her captor, embracing his disturbing sense of affection and romance. The highs and lows of Marina's twisted relationship with Ricky parallel those of her former addiction. Marina is beaten, bruised and mishandled, and yet unable to will herself to escape Ricky's clutches, as she finds herself oddly and strongly turned on by him. Granted, Ricky has a strong sexual magnetism of the Stanley Kowalski variety (He is, after all, Antonio Banderas). But it still doesn't distract from how alarming his actions are, no matter how erotically charged they may be.

The film opens itself up to be read this way by having Marina be a featured star in a horror movie. It's meant to be her big break into acting, after a career in pornography. Though she's been ostensibly exploited and objectified due to her former profession, the stigma carries with her. The aging director claims her as a muse, but his real motives appear to be getting her to desire him. But everyone in the film is strung up on some obsession or desire. Marina's sister wishes to be noticed by the director, but she is continually overlooked and never taken seriously. A journalist does interviews on the set of the horror film, only for us to discover she's done it as an excuse to "run into" an ex-boyfriend. Everyone is judging their self-worth based on their appearances or their sexual prowess. Oddly enough, Ricky never describes his interest for Marina in these terms, but it doesn't make the rest of his behavior any more tolerable.

But the film isn't using eroticism for the sake of eroticism. It's equating the power of Marina's addiction to an almost sexual control over her. "I don't know how to explain it," she tells her sister about the relationship, but that's because most people who've never had a drug addiction, or an abusive relationship, for that matter, hardly can begin to grasp what the person's experiencing. All that matters to the addict is getting the next fix; it doesn't matter how aware they are of the detrimental and destructive effects of their disease. They will pursue getting their high at any cost. Abusive relationships work in a similar regard to addiction in that people will find ways to justify or overlook their mistreatment or blame it on themselves rather than taking action against it and help themselves. It's this latter suggestion that writer-director uses for black comedic effect, pointing out the absurdity of the entire scenario. And it's ultimately through the film's humor that the unbearability of the premise becomes diffused.

Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! feels like an incomplete film. It's unfocused, taking too long to get started up and finishing on a weirdly anticlimactic note. But there are still the nuggets of some great ideas throughout about relationships, addiction, obsession and genre.

Grade: ★★★

"Robot & Frank" (2012)

On its face, Robot & Frank is a goofy little film about an elderly man, in the near distant future, whose estranged children give him a robot servant/companion to take care of him. The film is, for a large portion of its run-time, a buddy comedy with Frank (Frank Langella) playing straight-man to the overly rational robot (voiced by Peter Sarsgaard). But the film's playfulness, even its minor sci-fi elements (thankfully never overplayed), hide a deeper sense of longing and sadness. Frank is at the start of falling into Alzheimer's and his memory is slowly failing him, but that might be for the best, for him at least anyway, as his past doesn't appear to be something anyone on their last leg would want to dwell upon for too long. He was a terrible husband and a worse father, unsuccessfully pursuing cat burglary as a profession, at the expense of his familial ties. His relationships are now strained and his career is an unfulfilled dream. Frank is reluctant to have the robot around but he bonds with the bot, discovering his first real connection in ages, while the robot keeps reminding Frank he's not a human, even as he keeps referring to him as "friend" as if he is human. The film parallels Frank with the robot; it has the memory capacity, as well as the drive to improve Frank, that Frank so desperately needs. The story also contrasts Frank with the changing world; Frank is increasingly a relic in a digital age which makes his connection all the more amusing but also poignant. The film is funny, but its melancholic edge allows it to say meaningful things about growing old and yearning for the past. All of this leads to an ending that is surprisingly affecting but never sacrifices the film's oddball sense of humor.

Grade: ★★★

"Chungking Express" (1994)

Director Wong Kar-Wai's stylish and intoxicating mood piece film-making reached its fullest expression, up to that point, in Chungking Express. Wong's previous efforts, As Tears Go By and Days of Being Wild, feel like they were just dry runs; Wong proved he had talent, but those films didn't have as crystaline a vision as Express. Express is deliriously, palpably dripping with longing and sexual desire. Everything about the film is in the name of sensuous pleasure: the precise camera placement, the atmosphere, the dazzling color scheme, the lingering emotional suggestion. The film has a plot (about two heartbroken cops coping with their loss and falling into new, strange holding patterns and relationships), but discussing the plot fails to capture what make Express so erotically charged. The film is ennui wrapped up in sexual tension. It's a slow burn, and the film is interested in exuding a time and a place, and giving us a direct understanding and identification with the youthful listlessness of its characters. But it's the novelty by which Wong does this that really makes it stand out; the longing is so specifically rooted in its characters psyche, as if it's a character study by way of mood piece. The sensuality is so strong that it lingers long after the screening, clinging to the back of your mind and making you long just a little bit yourself.

Grade: ★★★

"The Magnificent Ambersons" (1942)

Tens Items or Less

A new writing segment, "Ten Items or Less" is an attempt to consciously cutback and restrict how much I write. I get ten sentences or less to discuss a movie. That's it. Let's see if some genius comes out of working around my self-made obstacle.  

Writer-director Orson Welles' ostentatious, opulent The Magnificent Ambersons is a film about the rippling effects of the past playing out into the present. Much like Welles' Citizen Kane, the film deals with people deeply wounded by events long since faded into memory, which they bitterly and nostalgically still cling to. The film shows the inevitably of change and the many scales on which it plays out on; the town goes from a Midwestern countryside hamlet to a bustling city, and the Ambersons go from wealthy benefactors to footnotes in the history of the town. Eugene Morgan (Joseph Cotton) pines for the woman, Isabel Amberson (Dolores Costello), who he long lost, and his daughter Lucy (Anne Baxter) is courted by his lost love's son George (Tim Holt). This all takes place under the scrutinizing gaze of the family and the townsfolk. In some ways, the film is about how family legacies are passed through generations, as well as how the evolution of the town is seen through the lens of the Amberson's experiences. Welles' direction is purposely showy but he fills each frame with a tremendous amount of telling detail. It's no wonder why Wes Anderson looked to Ambersons when making The Royal Tenenbaums, it's a film that uses background detail, character detail and precise framing to make unstated, dense points that enrich and inform the greater narrative. It's also a film about a wealthy, dysfunctional family coasting on their inheritance and legacy. But Welles' meticulous, brazen style hides a deep sense of melancholy reflective of individuals who hurt themselves and one another by refusing to let go of the past or by denying change in the present. 

Grade: ★★★

"Darkman" (1990)

Tens Items or Less

A new writing segment, "Ten Items or Less" is an attempt to consciously cutback and restrict how much I write. I get ten sentences or less to discuss a movie. That's it. Let's see if some genius comes out of working around my self-made obstacle.  

Sam Raimi's passion project Darkman is a strange movie, more interesting than good really. Raimi shoots the films with a kinetic direction that gives the film a charisma that carries it through its unsubstantial and crazy plot. But it is a film that feels like Raimi ran amok with the big budget of a studio and it led to something occasionally inspired but more often simply peculiar. A scientist (Liam Neeson - at his gravel-voiced finest), badly burnt and disfigured in an explosion, uses his experiments with synthetic skin grafting to temporarily restore his appearances or adopt the appearances of the men who wronged him in order to get revenge. This means that most of the film features Neeson covered in bandages and hugged in a heavy, black trenchcoat, walking around hunched over and growling angrily to himself. Neeson is committed to the role, if nothing else, and the film embraces its craziness (gangsters, shady real estate developers, a tragic, moody antihero) which makes it more readily acceptable. This embrace leads the film to some curious but fun moments, and the film's sugar-rush pacing and Raimi's atypical, energetic directing makes it all go down much more easily. It's a superhero-action film that grunts and laughs in the face of superhero conventions -- a precursor to the dark comic book adaptations such as The Dark Knight trilogy. The film is not trying to take itself serious -- although it takes its hero's tragic state and his descent into darkness quite seriously -- but the self-consciously absurd tonality and narrative still makes for a film that is not entirely satisfying but at least, thankfully, is not forgettable.

Grade: ★★

"Thor: The Dark World" (2013)

The comic book world of Thor is the most grandiose and operatic of the current Marvel franchises, and therefore it is the one that has the most difficulty discovering the human core that makes it all ring true. Similarly, Thor is one of the less compelling characters of the Avengers. Captain America struggles with the meaning of heroism in an age that has shrugged off heroism into the dustbin. Tony Stark combats his ego and the expense it causes on his personal and professional life. It is not like there is not an underlying thematic pinning to Thor's struggle, but it feels very one-note. Thor confronts the nature of power and its corrupting influence, but it is not exactly the most well nuanced examination nor does the franchise seem all that keen on seriously exploring the issue. It does on the other hand love huge CGI spectacle, but it is often at the cost of really getting a grip on what makes Thor tick; he is into old fashioned notions of honor in a way that aligns him with Captain America but the films have yet to fully shade his character in a relatable or understandable way. He's a big heavy who can kick some serious ass and wants to defend all the worlds and innocents, but mostly because he was born to be this person rather than because he necessarily chooses to. Far more interesting than Thor are the many characters surrounding him, particularly Loki who continues to get more fascinating and complex each time we encounter him. Tom Hiddleston gives a Shakespearean eloquence to line-readings, turning even less than stellar moments into fun fleeting passages in between the brutal, epic fights elsewhere. Idris Elba even gets some expanded screen time as the gatekeeper Heimdall, giving surprisingly weighted, but brief, thoughtfulness on the duel-edged sword over the burden and love of duty. An under-serviced Kat Dennings brings comic relief but she also gives far more of a sense of what makes her character, the intern Darcy, who she is than the writing does for Thor. Chris Hemsworth looks the part and can deliver lines with stoic grandeur, but Thor just isn't that exciting of a character. He's only more well-considered than his love interest Dr. Jane Foster, in an embarrassingly simplistic part that turns Natalie Portman shamelessly into a damsel in distress.

The plot is not worth pondering too long on. Aliens plot against Thor's homeworld of Asgard and the plan threatens to harm Earth. There's some mumbo-jumbo science-magic stuff called Aether that uses Jane as a vessel to attempt to turn all worlds into primordial darkness. It doesn't matter; there are Big Bads and they intend to do harm, but it is the least memorable part of the film, a serviceable but forgettable excuse for initiating conflict. Thor: The Dark World is a fun film but it suffers from re-establishing characters and plots after the gap of time in between seeing most of these characters in any film. It also suffers just as much from being a stepping stone towards bigger ambitions that Marvel has in mind for the sequel to the Avengers. Finally, it suffers from excess; Thor kills a giant rock monster at the end of a lengthy battle sequence early in the film and the question then becomes: where is there to go after we've watched such a sprawling battle that ends on such a grace note? The film finds ways to mock itself, its dense mythology, and the success of Marvel films generally within both its world and our own, and that allows for a good deal of fodder. But the film's best moments are when the action, the motivation of characters and a sense of unrestrained exuberance come together (Thor's mother (Rene Russo) fighting in one-on-one combat to defend Jane, or Thor and Loki reluctantly teaming up to exact revenge). It doesn't happen enough throughout the movie but it definitely is an improvement upon the first Thor movie, which in too many ways felt like an after thought. This has far more ambition and care even if it lives under the duel edged sword of burdens to its duty and pressure over doing justice to that obligation.

Grade: ★★