Vanity Fair
Long before “Vanity Fair” was the name for the world’s glossiest celebrity magazine it was one of the most bitingly satirical novels ever written – a brilliant demolition of early nineteenth century society. If the magazine of the same name was anywhere near as critical of the people who feature within its covers as William Makepeace Thackeray was of his characters it would have been bankrupted through lawsuits decades ago.
The last major big-screen outing for a Thackeray novel was Stanley Kubrick’s often under-appreciated 1975 adaptation, Barry Lyndon, in which the master director decided to abandon much of the novel’s plot and characterisation in favour of a lush visual experiment. It’s an incredible film, but hardly very faithful to the book.
Vanity Fair is an immensely broad, lengthy, amusing, insightful and complex novel with a strong central narrative based around the formidable social climber that is Becky Sharp - one of the most interesting and complicated heroines in literature. It should be ideal movie material – assuming the normal pitfalls of literary adaptation are avoided and a skilled screenwriter and director are put in charge, and assuming that they, unlike Kubrick, stick to the material.
The director assigned the task of bringing this classic to the cinema is the supremely talented Indian all-rounder Mira Nair, responsible for 2001’s surprise hit Monsoon Wedding – an examination of prejudice with much in common with Thackeray’s tale from a century and a half earlier. The original screenplay, by a couple of relative unknowns, has been given a hefty polish by Julian Fellowes, the Oscar-winning scribe behind the wonderful examination of class relations that was Gosford Park. If anyone could condense the novel for the screen, you’d imagine this pair would have a good chance.
When the casting was announced there was initially also much to raise hopes. The original novel is inundated with great characters, and the casting department for the movie seemed to have scoured high and low for some of the best character actors in the business – Bob Hoskins, Rhys Ifans and Jonathan Rhys-Meyers among them.
But the key to this quintessentially British tale was always going to be the shrewdly manipulative Becky Sharpe. So why did they pick American Reese Witherspoon, best known for her ditzy blondes in the likes of Cruel Intentions and Legally Blonde? Despite her best efforts to cope with a UK accent in one of her most challenging roles to date, she just can’t quite bring the character believably to life.
This isn’t the only problem. Director Nair, for some reason not content with the ability to exploit Thackeray’s immense imagination, bizarrely opts to include a couple of almost Bollywood-style production numbers, and reduces a number of key characters to minor roles, despite them being played by some of the best talent in the film.
Yet despite the diminishment of the central character and the director’s tendency to go off on tangents, this is nonetheless a far more appealing film than might be feared. Just enough of Thackeray remains to give a hint at the complexity of the world he created. It certainly would have been nicer if more of the original could have been retained – and if the film could have been made to look rather more like Thackeray’s own illustrations – but for those who have never read it this will still act as an ideal introduction to one of the greatest English novels ever written.
Team America: World Police
One short explanation will tell you all you need to know about this film: it’s from the people who brought us South Park. If you liked that, you’ll probably like this – if not, stay well away.
Yep, this is Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s take on George W Bush’s foreign policy. Told through Thunderbirds-style puppets.
But as with most things this pair of occasionally masterful satirists set out to do, simply offending fans of Bush isn’t enough – they want, as usual, to offend everybody. Namby-pamby peacenik liberals, redneck warmongers, the vacuous celebrity-centred culture we live in, terrorism, Hollywood clichés and vomiting are all equally at risk of having jokes made at their expense.
The thing many people will find themselves asking is “what’s the message?” In the US, both left and right claimed this movie to be upholding their own views – albeit in highly exaggerated forms. Is the film’s critique of Michael Moore genuine, or is its portrayal of the tubby film maker itself a satire on how he has been portrayed by his detractors?
Is there in fact a message at all? It’s left so very nicely ambiguous that it is entirely up to each individual audience member to decide. It is mostly played so very straight that it could almost be a genuine attempt at a Jerry Bruckheimer action flick along the lines of Pearl Harbour – all gung-ho patriotism, wooden acting (both literally and metaphorically) and stupidly simplistic plot.
So the other obvious question is, “is it actually any fun to watch?” For some people, even fans of South Park, the answer will be a resounding “no”. The obvious jokes are so obvious as to lose any novelty value after five minutes. From then on, the deliberately awful dialogue and rather basic action sequences (this is based on Thunderbirds, after all) could put some people off the task the film makers leave entirely up to their audience, namely thinking about what it could all mean.
At the same time as being prime satire – after all, the best satire is always so well-crafted that it can be nearly impossible to tell whether it is actually poking fun or not – this is an intensely silly movie. These are, after all, the same people who brought us the fat sociopath Cartman and the perennially dying Kenny, the people who brought us songs about bombing Canada, and a giant mechanical Barbra Streisand.
Is the state of the world post-September 11th 2001 a fit subject for taking the micky in such an unrelenting and heartless manner? Are terrorist atrocities and self-righteous western reactions to them, along with all the resulting loss of life, fair game for such puerile humour?
It all comes down to your attitude. If you like the wilfully offensive style of humour of the likes of South Park and Britain’s own spoof news show Brass Eye, don’t mind graphic sex scenes (yes, really – despite the puppets) and extremely strong language, and can get over the style of presentation here, then the unrelenting courage to take on all comers that is on display here should be right up your alley. If, however, you don’t find the idea of swearing marionettes, flatulence and mass killings to be a suitable source of humour, avoid this like the plague.
One thing is for certain – as with South Park, despite how it may appear at first glance, this is definitely not one for the kids.
Ray
The legendary blind soul singer Ray Charles died last June at the age of 74, having done as much to shape the music of the late twentieth century as pretty much anyone, as well as act as an inspiration to countless thousands for his perseverance in overcoming his disability. His success despite his twin disadvantages of growing up both handicapped and black at a time when America was tolerant of neither of these things would have been enough of itself to warrant a biopic, but add in his dabblings with hard drugs, involvement with the civil rights movement, two marriages and twelve children, there’s room for something genuinely interesting.
During his career, Charles shifted from crooning ballads to gospel, blues to Rock’n’Roll, Soul to Country, blending them all and distilling them into a uniquely original take on the soundtrack of the American century. The filmmakers have made the sensible choice of focussing on the brilliance of the music as much as on the overcoming of adversity which plays such a prominent part in pretty much every biopic ever made.
What most people going to see a film about an artist are most interested in is, after all, the art. While revelations about their personal life may be interesting, and these are also included here, what is truly fascinating here is the creativity which allowed a blind orphan to rise from his deprived and tragic roots to the very pinnacle of his profession.
Of course, the fact that this film is coming out just five months after its subject died will lead to all sorts of fears that it is little more than a rushed hack job, and won’t do justice to a man who, despite his flaws, was a true great. Thankfully these fears are utterly unfounded – not only was the film in production well before Charles’ demise, but it is a remarkable piece of work, and not just for featuring so many of the near-legend’s near-legendary tunes.
Any biopic relies almost entirely on the performance of its lead – no amount of fancy filmmaking techniques and quality supporting cast can possibly cover for an unbelievable central actor, especially when playing such a well-known and well-loved figure as Ray Charles. So when rumours of impending Oscar nominations begin to circulate about the lead in a movie of this type, you know something special is on the cards.
Comedian Jamie Foxx – last seen as the taxi driver in the Tom Cruise hitman flick Collateral – looks to have secured himself a position among the very top Hollywood talent with this amazingly assured and versatile showing. Whether he will be named Best Actor in March – which would make him only the third African American actor to achieve the accolade in the Oscars’ history – remains to be seen, but he most certainly deserves to be nominated.
This is one of those rare performances which promises to mark the emergence of a major new talent. Foxx has been knocking around on the sidelines for years, never managing to break permanently out of his television work, but with Ray he shows an uncanny ability to both imitate and innovate at the same time – much like the man he is playing. For both the music and for Jamie Foxx, as much as for the memory of its subject, Ray is certainly worth checking out.
Meet the Fockers
Ben Stiller really made his mark with 2000’s comedy about the nightmare of in-laws that was Meet the Parents. His double-act with Robert De Niro, on rare comic form as the sadistic father-in-law, demonstrated amply that he could hack it with the best of them after a series of promising turns in the likes of There’s Something About Mary and Mystery Men. Overseen by the director behind all three Austin Powers flicks, it was a top-notch comedy from a very simple key premise – like a 90 minute sitcom with an A-list cast.
This sequel sees all the key cast – including Stiller’s now equally big-name best buddy Owen Wilson – return for Stiller’s put-upon son-in-law to repay the favour by introducing his new in-laws to his own somewhat eccentric parents. Much as with the original, the basic premise could sound rather uninspired; much as with the original, it is thanks to the tight script and superb cast that this turns into something special.
The double-act cast as Stiller’s somewhat odd Jewish parents is perfect. One half you’d expect this of – Dustin Hoffman is, after all, one of the finest actors of the last four decades, and among his many talents is gifted with superb comic timing. The surprise – for many – will be with the mother.
Barbra Streisand is, these days, often thought of as a bit of a nutter with a big nose who used to sing ballad-style songs, but whose career has now mercifully ended. Her last film role was back in 1996, and that came five years after her previous one, so many have forgotten what a talented actress she can be. She did, after all, deservedly win an Oscar for her debut role as comedienne Fanny Brice in 1968’s Funny Girl.
With two such talented new cast members to add to the mix, both of whom are on absolutely top form, it is unsurprising that they, rather than Stiller and De Niro, become the focus of the sequel. Stiller maintains his put-upon embarrassment of the first movie, and De Niro is relegated to the part of the cynical straight man to the zany antics of Hoffman and Streisand. Which, considering De Niro’s rather lacklustre performances of late, is something of a relief.
On the whole, if you liked the original you will likely like this – and, unlike with some sequels, to really appreciate it you will probably need to have seen the first movie. But even for those who have missed the first film’s character-building there will be a fair few belly-laugh moments. The petty rivalries between De Niro and Hoffman in particular are perfect, and a great reminder of the superb team they made in the sorely underappreciated (and still very relevant) 1997 political satire Wag the Dog.
It still may be a trifle too long and a little slow in a few places, where the humour temporarily seems to dry up or turn somewhat derivative, but there is more than enough here to bring chuckles even to those who hate Barbra Streisand with a passion. And for a comedy to overcome that kind of aversion is an impressive feat indeed.
Ladder 49
It has always been difficult to portray firefighters as anything other than heroic because, let’s face it, they are. But since those events in New York of September three years ago, they have become, in America at least, even more of a sacred cow than they ever were.
To Ladder 49’s credit, September 11th is never directly mentioned. The film is even set in Baltimore to try and distance it from that tragic event. Yet those unforgettable images of the ash, blood and dust covered men of the New York Fire Department staggering out of the rubble of the World Trade Centre have informed every frame of this movie.
The most successful film about firefighters to date, 1991’s Backdraft, allowed an exploration of internal rivalries between the movie’s smoke-choked heroes; in today’s climate it seems that even this could be seen as a criticism. There is almost no human conflict on display here – just irreproachable decency, honour and respect both for the profession and for each individual fireman who has made the noble sacrifice of constantly putting their lives on the line to save others.
There are no real character flaws among these men, as they can be seen to be nothing other than perfect heroes. But without flaws, they seem less human. As such, it is hard to truly connect or identify with them. That in turn doesn’t make for an especially strong or interesting film.
All this is despite being focussed around good performances from the two leads – the rookie Joaquin Phoenix and veteran chief John Travolta. They both turn in decent enough showings to make the most of the material, which comes slightly more to life when Phoenix is trapped in a blazing building, with Travolta frantically coordinating rescue efforts on the ground.
But then the rookie fireman starts having a series of flashbacks to his nascent career, family life and the benevolence of his older mentor, and the Hollywood schmaltz goes into overdrive. Although Travolta’s presence can be explained through his recent poor performances, it is a wonder that Phoenix, whose choices of role are normally superb, would associate himself with such platitudinous pap.
The true aim of this film rapidly becomes clear – it is thinly-disguised propaganda and little more. After a couple of years of ever-growing criticisms of the men who were labelled heroes in America after September 11th – the likes of the Abu Ghraib torture scandal shattering the myth of US moral superiority along with the idea of those who serve the flag being irreproachable – this seems little more than an attempt to revive the unanimity of respect and patriotic pride of the immediate post-9/11 period.
This may work for some American audiences, but box office returns were not overly impressive across the Atlantic despite this being released on the anniversary of 9/11, and UK cinemagoers are traditionally a rather more cynical bunch anyway.
It is difficult to see what the attraction could be here – underneath the propaganda this is little more than an overly sentimental exercise in emotions-by-numbers male bonding. Whether it helps revive American national pride is debatable; one thing that is for certain is that it will do little to help the careers of any involved.
Closer
Throughout his career, director Mike Nichols has excelled at creating superbly realised character studies, from his 1960s classics Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf and The Graduate through to his last feature film to receive widespread acclaim, 1998’s Bill Clinton-inspired Primary Colours. Closer is more in the same vein, following hot on the heels of his all-star, award-winning TV mini-series, Angels in America, which took a surreal, existentialist look at the AIDS crisis of the 1980s.
Although Angels in America was, both in terms of subject matter and style, somewhat unappealing for many, Closer returns to the more accessible, yet still somehow unpleasant, approach of Nichols’ earlier films. Much as both the lead characters in The Graduate were rather dislikeable at the same time as remaining largely sympathetic, here all four principles – played by a remarkable key cast made up of some of the biggest names working today – are deeply flawed people with which, nonetheless, audiences can easily identify.
Dan (Jude Law) is a writer who ends up living with and writing about dancer Alice (Natalie Portman) after she is hit by a London taxi. In the kind of typically complicated series of events which seem to happen in these kinds of relationship dramas, Dan cheats on Alice with photographer Anna (Julia Roberts), with whom he then becomes obsessed even after she starts going out with dermatologist Larry (Clive Owen) – largely as a result of his own actions. After this initial set up, the film follows the quintet over the next four years, as their already complex inter-relationships develop.
In the hands of a less talented director, even the imaginative script by British screenwriter Patrick Marber (a long-time collaborator with comic Steve Coogan) could have descended into fairly bland, unoriginal fare. But with Nichols’ expertise this easily rises to a par with some of the best cinematic explorations of sex and love yet committed to screen. He even manages to coax top-end performances out of Law and Roberts – two actors who seem content to rely more on their looks than their actual talent more often than not.
But what this film will probably be most remembered for is as the movie that marked Natalie Portman’s coming of age. After more than a decade as one of the big names in Hollywood, the 23 year old here puts in her first truly grown-up performance – and this is even after her nude scenes have been edited out. The lack of nudity is in fact entirely appropriate as, despite dealing intimately with the steamier side of romance, it is the emotions behind these relationships which are the real focus. Portman’s mastery of her character – especially in her scenes with the superb Clive Owen – should ensure that her utterly wooden turns in the Star Wars prequels will be forgiven as an aberration.
This is not a date movie – not unless you want to convince your other half that your relationship is doomed to pain and betrayal, at any rate. But it is an expertly accomplished exploration of the nature of love and lust, and a far more intelligent film than anyone would normally expect Hollywood to be able to produce.
Alexander
The master of controversial political movies shifts back a few thousand years for his latest – his biggest, most expensive film to date. So, will Oliver Stone’s take on Alexander the Great be JFK-style conspiracies, Nixon-style high politics, or Platoon-style gritty battle sequences?
For a director lumbered with a reputation for controversy, a historically factual tale of a supposedly bisexual political and military behemoth who came to power thanks to political assassination and died in mysterious circumstances at the height of his career is perfect material. Alexander had the personal flaws of a Nixon, his life the political intrigue of a JFK, and he took part in umpteen battles which, although on a grander scale than the jungle conflicts of Vietnam, nonetheless provide ample opportunities for a master of war film direction to go overboard.
And going overboard is precisely the accusation which has been levelled at Stone for this film. With an all-star cast, headed by Colin Farrell, Angelina Jolie and Anthony Hopkins, a budget of more than $150 million, literally thousands of extras, and filming taking place on three continents, it is Stone’s most ambitious project by a long way. Some have felt that he wasn’t quite able to cope with the pressure, and that the film has suffered as a result.
Coming, as Alexander does, on the back of swords and sandals epics Gladiator and Troy, the novelty of these ancient worlds may now have worn off. The spectacle of vast armies clashing in desert sands, of majestic, near-legendary cities, and well-toned, sun-tanned warriors pirouetting in the glaring sun may not hold as much appeal as it would have done a few years back. The fact that the real, historical battles recreated here are on a smaller, more realistic scale than those of The Lord of the Rings adds to the worry that this may not have anything much new to offer.
The critics have, for the most part, not been kind. Although based on the best-selling biography by Robin Lane Fox, the plot has been lambasted for its confusing complexity, and the script derided nearly as much as the unusual choice of accents on show from the cast – Farrell even keeps his native Irish brogue in his portrayal of the Macedonian king.
In short, this is a disappointing show from Stone – especially as his first feature film in five years. While he was able to cope with a vast cast on Nixon, yet still coax superb performances from all involved, here he seems to have concentrated on the epic scope of the confusing narrative rather than individual performances. While the film seems like it should be focussed more on personal relationships than big battles, it seems that Stone was keener to get his war elephants and long lines of infantry looking good than on ensuring that the heart of his film rings true.
There was supposed to be another film about Alexander the Great coming out this year, directed by Moulin Rouge’s Baz Luhrman and starring Leonardo DiCaprio. When Stone’s take got the go-ahead first, the studio put it on hold. After Stone’s inability to pull it off, will they give it another go, and try and produce the film Alexander immense achievements deserve? Or is this massively complex and fascinating figure simply too big for the screen?
2046
Chinese cinema has gained serious mainstream interest over the last few years. Thanks to a combination of the appearance in Hollywood of the likes of John Woo, Jackie Chan and Jet Li, as well as films like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Hero and House of Flying Daggers, cinemagoers who would previously never have imagined going to see such films are flocking in their droves for the new releases.
What all three of those films had in common was the actress Zhang Ziyi. She seems to have secured herself a place as the single most popular Chinese actress working today. Here she is reunited with Maggie Cheung from Hero to team up with one of the most revered of all Chinese directors, the cult master that is Wong Kar Wai, for a very different film to the epic martial arts flicks in which audiences are most used to seeing her.
Wong Kar Wai has built a reputation for directing truly beautiful films. But unlike the almost overwhelming, broad beauty of the sweeping landscapes of Hero and Crouching Tiger, his films are usually visually stunning in a deeply intimate manner. His last, In the Mood for Love, which also starred Maggie Cheung, was a close, personal look at love and extra-marital affairs. His most famous, Chunking Express, focussed on twin tales of lost love and its ensuing despair. Both received attention as much for the richly inventive visuals of joint cinematographers Wai Keung Lau (who has since made his own name as a director with the superb Infernal Affairs series, whose Tony Leung also stars here) and Christopher Doyle as for their director’s uncanny knack for portraying melancholy emotion in a truly engaging and sensitive manner.
Here, Christopher Doyle again returns, and his eye for colour and knack for framing shots to heighten the on-screen action is again one of the primary reasons for seeing the film. Between them, director and cinematographer have created another film that is almost a work of high art as much as a piece of restrained entertainment. Like In the Mood for Love and the director’s 1997 film Happy Together before it, 2046 was nominated for the Palm D’Or at the Cannes Film Festival, and very nearly won – pipped to the post by the jury’s decision to court controversy by rewarding the political polemic that was Fahrenheit9/11.
Perhaps because of all this talent and expectation, 2046 may well disappoint some viewers. It covers many of Wong Kar Wai’s usual themes – love lost and found amidst a hunt for privacy in a decidedly non-private environment – and at its heart lies an attempt to unravel the nature of memory.
Yep, this is an art-house flick through and through, it just happens to have got a wider release. Told from the perspective of a writer reminiscing from the year 2046, the plot – such as there is one – is highly confusing, as various women and relationships come and go in a small hotel.
But the plot isn’t the point – this is an exercise in atmosphere, and in this it succeeds perfectly. Rarely will you find a more entrancingly wistful portrayal of nostalgic longing on screen. It’s certainly not going to be everyone’s cup of tea, but for those who approach it in the right frame of mind, 2046 could well end up holding a special place in your hearts.
