Thursday, April 9, 2009

Knowing: Artifice of an Odious Actor







Knowing (2009) - I find Nicolas Cage to be one of the strangest, confounded, and downright unappealing box office draws in this country since Tom Cruise. The fact that he won an Oscar makes his presence seem even more repugnant. And I'm not just saying that because, especially with age, he has come to resemble a terribly botched transgender experiment (either that or an inbred hermaphroditic cousin of Ellen Degeneres). The man, simply put, cannot ACT. When you are in one of those adroitly named professions where your skills are imperative to the very title of what you're getting paid for, well, when you're unable to get the job done you shouldn't be getting work. Nicolas Cage is the ugly girl at the party that also has the shit personality---you have to make up for something, somewhere, catch my drift? Anyhow, the feeling in my gut leaving a screening of Knowing is how I'd imagine sports fans would feel if an overtly physically handicapped individual was appointed to an integral position on their favorite sports team---they were so close to having something if only.....for the sake of being PC, I'll stop that analogy here. That's not to say Knowing would be an excellent film with a different leading man--it's got several problems--but it would look a hell of a lot better---like your senior pictures--an awkward time in life, except that Nicolas Cage in your movie is like that huge, yellow pustule you can't have airbrushed off your face. The plot of Knowing circulates around a creepy girl named Lucinda, who, in 1959 placed a string of numbers representing the dates of world-disasters-to-come in her elementary school's time capsule. 50 years later, the son of MIT professor Nicolas Cage becomes the student to acquire Lucinda's capsule offering, setting Cage and crew into the maelstrom of the plot. Cage's performance becomes more and more hysterical as the film goes on--he heroically jumps into the remains of a burning airplane, only to shout "Hey" at a man engulfed in flames as he runs past, as if they should stop and talk about it; having won an Oscar for playing an alcoholic, Cage ironically is unable to effectively play it off here, stomping around his home and noisily clambering his thick fingers all over the keyboard, lugubriously decoding some numbers while swilling down vast amounts of hard liquor; he chases strange, scary men into the woods that are bothering his kid (referred to as the whisperers) clunking a blunt instrument against a tree while bellowing "Do you want some of this" (umm no); there's another awful fake crying scene that rivals the hamminess of 8MM (1999); and, to top it off, a subway scene where Cage crazily asks a policewoman why the street hasn't been cordoned off due to the impending terrorist attack, directly followed by a dizzyingly silly chase sequence involving one of those wily DVD pirates; and then there's that awful little Dutch boy wig he's wearing. However, like I said, there's more wrong with the film than just Cage and his weave; the screenplay suffers from some awfully bad stock dialogue that affects even the usually charismatic Rose Byrne (The Dead Girl - 2006; 28 Weeks Later - 2007). And the melding of some clever, realistic characteristics with the unexplainable shape-shifting super beings that happen to pick Cage's son as the new forefather of the human race gave me some heartburn concerning the film. I suppose I was at first alarmed that it's two little white children that are of course picked to restart the human race, but also, if the world is ending due to sun flares, wouldn't only half the earth burn? Since, as we've known for some time now, the earth is not flat. Therefore, half the earth is in darkness. So as the USofA starts on fire due to a solar flares, wouldn't people in China be okay, at least for several hours longer? These are the explanations I need, especially in a film that chooses to be very precise about it's human elements (Cage, the scientist, reuniting at last with his preacher father). And then the film has to bonk us over the head with Eden symbolism. And though I think bunnies are cute, I'm not sure that super intelligent extraterrestrials would so poetically and strangely use these furry fertility symbols while they abduct their little white New England schoolchildren only to deposit them in some windy utopia with lots of brown grass and a big tree that's not bearing any visible fruit. At least the little girl would logically know about the demise of Eve---hope she's wary of fruit and phallic symbols. Cage, however, is purely an unacceptable cinematic presence. Alex Proyas, a talented director with work like The Crow (1994) and Dark City (1998) seems to have various studio issues, the least being saddled with talentless multiplex fodder like Cage. At least with I, Robot (2004) he had the luck to have a less offensively talentless draw with Will Smith.

Everlasting Moments (2008) -- Destined to be included in one of my favorite theatrical releases of this year is Jan Troell's latest offering, Everlasting Moments. At times upsetting, but ultimately rewarding and an excellent piece of cinema, the film stars Maria Hesikanen in a riveting portrayal of a Finnish woman living in turn of the century Sweden with her rather large family. Her husband, not altogether a bad man, is a terribly violent drunk, and he likes to drink, it would seem, incessantly. Thankfully, the woman finds joy in a camera she discovers hidden away, which leads her into one of those beautiful but awful to watch relationships rife with sexual tension that will never be realized with the man that owns the local camera shop (think sort of like Julianne Moore & Dennis Haysbert in Far From Heaven - 2001). Though there's not the kind of satisfactory ending you'd expect from American fare, there's a lot of surprises on the journey there, and a potent yearning that oozes off the screen--that makes the end that much more moving. And painfully human.

Duplicity (2009) -- The problem with Tony Gilroy's (Michael Clayton - 2007) latest is offering is that I didn't believe a word of it. The chemistry between Julia Roberts and Clive Owen was almost nonexistent. There was more chemistry between Naomi Watts and Clive Owen in this year's earlier release of The International (which, strangely, also features Ulrich Thomsen as an icky European banker). It doesn't help that Gilroy casts two people I typically find to be vastly overrated. Foremost being the one trick pony Roberts and the other being Paul Giamatti, who either gets to play vindictive slimeballs or quintessential losers. The slow motion fistfight between Giamatti and Tom Wilkinson that opens the film is perhaps the most entertaining scene---and it only goes downhill from there. Gilroy seems to have an obsession with multi-billion dollar companies doing strange and devious things with or pertaining to highly marketable products. Since the product in question here is about as sought after as the fountain of youth I wasn't surprised at all by the highly predictable ending to a completely un-engaging film. Some nice filming locations, however. It would be nice to see Clive Owen do something that stretches his abilities a little better.

Sunshine Cleaning (2008) -- The latest entry in the indie-quirk brigade is this new offering from the producers of Little Miss Sunshine (2006) -- but whereas that film had a lot of heart, this offering from director Christine Jeffs (Sylvia - 2003) feels a bit forced and highly illogical under close examination. It's hard to be too irritated with Amy Adams, I find. She might be vaguely the same in most of her films, but she has an effervescence that's refreshing. (And no, I don't believe she deserved an Oscar nod for Doubt - 2008). Emily Blunt (The Devil Wear Prada - 2006) is also entertaining and believable, but in the end, I found most of her interactions with her sister, Adams, to be a bit forced (e.g., they wouldn't have discussed their mother's death anytime beforehand, even though she died when they were children?) and Alan Arkin's character is basically a resurrection of his turn in Little Miss Sunshine. Steve Zahn, though good to see, is basically an underused bastard. Perhaps I was most disappointed at the build up between Blunt's character and a young woman she basically stalks (the always entertaining Mary Lynn Rajskub, from "24") or perhaps it was that I didn't care, in the end. Adams is repeatedly made aware that there are certain steps towards certain certifications she needs for crime scene cleanups---and she fails. Repeatedly. I can only have empathy for so long. In the end, I found this to be not an entirely bad film, but one that relies too entirely much on being about "quirky" women, seemingly unscathed by some arguably avoidable situations.

Goodbye Solo (2008); Chop Shop (2007); Man Push Cart (2005) -- I recently had the opportunity to see Rahmin Bahrani's three films, virtually back to back. With the opening of his latest film, Goodbye Solo, Mr. Bahrani has received quite a bit of attention due to the glowing reviews by Roger Ebert and AO Scott. Needless to say, I find their reviews to be a little overrated. Of the three, I found Chop Shop to be Bahrani's best work, documenting the relationship between a brother and sister virtually living in chop shop outside of Queens in NYC. Bahrani's first two films were made without professional actors, which, amazingly to myself, I preferred over what I felt were some forced dynamics in Goodbye Solo---perhaps it's the cynic in me, but it's really not that I don't believe someone would go so far to stop a stranger from committing suicide, it's just that for the main character of Solo to do so in this film, conversely, made him rather irresponsible about other choices he was making. Perhaps I was irked that, rather than spend time with his son that's just been born, Solo decides to prevent William, a man he's known for about two weeks because he gave him a ride in his taxi, from killing himself. Not only is William an old white man, he's not that friendly or even engaging. He is like that old, sad dog you can roughhouse with until they become angry enough to muster up the strength to bite. As Mr. Bahrani gets bigger budgets for his films, perhaps we can see him grow into a filmmaker of impressive magnitude--until then, the dynamics of his adult characters are rather one dimensional, hence why I enjoyed Chop Shop more than the other two. Perhaps to make you understand, I found Man Push Cart to have a lot of similarities with "Death of a Salesman." However, I find Arthur Miller's classic play to be one of the most difficult pieces for me to read or sit through---because Willy Loman is such a pathetic loser I can't stomach listening to his endless pathetic shit drivel, literary theory to the side. Neo-neo-realism is bit like off-off-Broadway---some of it works, some of it doesn't. In the end, it's difficult to watch people that refuse to help themselves--and even more so if it's done half-heartedly.

No comments:

Post a Comment