Here's the review from Variety.
Things We Lost in the Fire
By TODD MCCARTHY
A DreamWorks-Paramount release of a DreamWorks presentation of a Neal Street production. Produced by Sam Mendes, Sam Mercer. Executive producers, Pippa Harris, Allan Loeb. Co-producer, Barbara Kelly. Directed by Susanne Bier. Screenplay, Allan Loeb.
Audrey Burke - Halle Berry
Jerry Sunborne - Benicio Del Toro
Brian Burke - David Duchovny
Kelly - Alison Lohman
Neal - Omar Benson Miller
Howard Glassman - John Carroll Lynch
Harper Burke - Alexis Llewellyn
Dony Burke - Micah Berry
Brenda - Robin Weigert
Diane - Paula Newsome
A live-wire performance by Benicio Del Toro sparks an otherwise morose study of loss, addiction and catharsis in "Things We Lost in the Fire." First American feature from Danish helmer Susanne Bier intermittently finds ways to provide a fresh approach to conventional themes, but in the long run can't escape the limited dramatic options inherent in its story of the growing bond between a bereaved widow and the junkie who was her late husband's best friend. Modest B.O. looms.
There's nothing to suggest that Bier, known internationally for such films as "Open Hearts," "Brothers" and "After the Wedding," had to compromise her style in order to work in Hollywood; to the contrary, she was fortunate to find some strong collaborators, particularly Del Toro and producer/project godfather Sam Mendes, on both sides of the camera.
How effective that style is remains another matter, however. From the beginning, her Dogma-derived handheld camera is constantly darting hither and yon, probing to find the right angle and only sporadically succeeding. From an aesthetic standpoint, the visual results, in terms of composition, desaturated color schemes and mood, are not especially entrancing.
At the wake for the husband of Audrey Burke (Halle Berry), one man doesn't quite fit in with the upscale crowd at her elegant Seattle-area home. He's the oddly scruffy Jerry Sunborne (Del Toro), who reveals he grew up with the deceased, Brian Burke (David Duchovny).
As flashbacks soon disclose, Brian visited Jerry at the latter's flophouse lodgings on his birthday before impulsively intervening in a domestic dispute and being senselessly shot to death.
Brian's murder doesn't just devastate Audrey but effectively paralyzes her; entirely unprepared for being on her own and raising her 10-year-old daughter and 6-year-old son, she simply doesn't know what to do, although she gets a bit of help from her brother Neal (Omar Benson Miller). In her emotionally frozen condition, she tracks down Jerry at a methadone clinic and invites him to stay at her home, where he can do a little work on the side.
Trying to stay clean, Jerry attends group therapy meetings, where he attracts the interest of another recovering addict, Kelly (Alison Lohman). But, sure enough, he relapses, then endures a grueling withdrawal as Jerry and Audrey fall into a relationship of mutual dependency, relying on one another to get through the most difficult periods of their respective lives.
Emotional core of Allan Loeb's original screenplay is thoroughly legitimate and, fortunately, does not go the silly route of proposing a potential romance for the two lost souls who bond over their mutual closeness with the same man. Dialogue is strictly functional, however, and the characters remain essentially one-dimensional; very little is ever revealed about protags' pasts, interests or what brought them to this point. Pic's concern is all in the moment.
To this end, the one player who genuinely seems to live in the moment and can bring it alive is Del Toro. Drug addict characters famously provide abundant possibilities for the sort of intense emoting actors love, and while Del Toro doesn't avoid this entirely, he captivates by often going the other way, expressing a certain lightness and humor that cuts against expectations. You never doubt Jerry is hooked, but Del Toro's charm and behavioral variety provide the man with more dimension than is provided on the page.
Another performance that elicits more than meets the eye comes from Lohman, who has very little to work with but strongly imprints her character's resolve and positive outlook.
Perhaps partly because Audrey is so dumbstruck by the hand fate has dealt her, Berry can't develop the character beyond the obvious signposts. Plausibly enough, she seems ghostly and vacant much of the time, and not very interesting in the bargain. Even more simplistic is Duchovny's Brian, who is positioned as just short of saintly as a husband, friend and ill-advised do-gooder.
In line with Bier's preference for handheld, often multiple camera coverage and lots of jump cutting, tech quality is on the raw side by Hollywood standards.
Camera (Deluxe color, Panavision widescreen), Tom Stern; editors, Pernille Bech Christensen, Bruce Cannon; music, Johan Soderqvist; themes, Gustavo Santaolalla; music supervisor, Susan Jacobs; production designer, Richard Sherman; art director, Geoff Wallace; set decorator, Dominique Fauquet-Lemaitre; costume designer, Karen Matthews; sound (Dolby Digital/DTS/SDDS), James Kusan; supervising sound editors, Karen Baker Landers, Per Hallberg; re-recording mixers, Scott Millan, David Parker; assistant director, Paul Barry; casting, Debra Zane. Reviewed at Paramount studios, Los Angeles, Oct. 4, 2007. MPAA Rating: R. Running time: 118 MIN.
Things We Lost in the Fire
-
Precious Doll
- Emeritus
- Posts: 4453
- Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2003 2:20 am
- Location: Sydney
- Contact:
-
Precious Doll
- Emeritus
- Posts: 4453
- Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2003 2:20 am
- Location: Sydney
- Contact:
When Charlize Theron & Halle Berry actually ever deliver a good performance - that will be headline news!Big Magilla wrote:Mister Tee wrote:I don't actually get why the critic felt such a need to cite this factor in her review. Haven't there been a number of films over recent years that have featured incidental inter-racial romances? Perhaps they've been mostly in the junk genres (all those dance-contest movies). The critic might be mostly expressing surprise that a "serious drama" has finally caught up to a mainstream trend.
This also struck me as very odd. Morgan Freeman, Denzel Washington and Don Cheadle, among others, have been showing up in roles "written" for white characters for years. Numerous TV shows feature inter-racial couples without commenting on the fact that one of them is of a different race than the other.
Ten years ago Filipino Paulo Montalban played the Prince in Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderalla in which white Victor Garber and black Whoopi Goldberg played his parents. Audra McDonald has been playing "white" characters on Broadway and winning awards for them for years.
When Charlize Theron plays Halle Berry's maid - that will be news!
"I want cement covering every blade of grass in this nation! Don't we taxpayers have a voice anymore?" Peggy Gravel (Mink Stole) in John Waters' Desperate Living (1977)
-
Big Magilla
- Site Admin
- Posts: 19336
- Joined: Wed Jan 01, 2003 3:22 pm
- Location: Jersey Shore
This also struck me as very odd. Morgan Freeman, Denzel Washington and Don Cheadle, among others, have been showing up in roles "written" for white characters for years. Numerous TV shows feature inter-racial couples without commenting on the fact that one of them is of a different race than the other.Mister Tee wrote:I don't actually get why the critic felt such a need to cite this factor in her review. Haven't there been a number of films over recent years that have featured incidental inter-racial romances? Perhaps they've been mostly in the junk genres (all those dance-contest movies). The critic might be mostly expressing surprise that a "serious drama" has finally caught up to a mainstream trend.
Ten years ago Filipino Paulo Montalban played the Prince in Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderalla in which white Victor Garber and black Whoopi Goldberg played his parents. Audra McDonald has been playing "white" characters on Broadway and winning awards for them for years.
When Charlize Theron plays Halle Berry's maid - that will be news!
-
Mister Tee
- Tenured Laureate
- Posts: 8648
- Joined: Wed Jan 01, 2003 2:57 pm
- Location: NYC
- Contact:
Penelope's exactly right. My older, bigoted Irish relatives would see only the black blood in Berry, and label her (nastily) accordingly.
(It was a bit jarring, however, the night she won the Oscar: everyone was acclaiming the racial breakthrough, while we were treated to endless shots of her completely white mother)
Uri is also correct in saying those black women who are touted as true beauties by American media are those with the most Caucasian features. It's hardly a new development: Alex Haley discussed this years ago in explaining why Lena Horne was always singled out.
I don't actually get why the critic felt such a need to cite this factor in her review. Haven't there been a number of films over recent years that have featured incidental inter-racial romances? Perhaps they've been mostly in the junk genres (all those dance-contest movies). The critic might be mostly expressing surprise that a "serious drama" has finally caught up to a mainstream trend.
(It was a bit jarring, however, the night she won the Oscar: everyone was acclaiming the racial breakthrough, while we were treated to endless shots of her completely white mother)
Uri is also correct in saying those black women who are touted as true beauties by American media are those with the most Caucasian features. It's hardly a new development: Alex Haley discussed this years ago in explaining why Lena Horne was always singled out.
I don't actually get why the critic felt such a need to cite this factor in her review. Haven't there been a number of films over recent years that have featured incidental inter-racial romances? Perhaps they've been mostly in the junk genres (all those dance-contest movies). The critic might be mostly expressing surprise that a "serious drama" has finally caught up to a mainstream trend.
Uri, you must remember that in the United States--as wrong-headed as it is--one drop of blood from a black ancester makes a person black. This is how society has viewed it since the country began--it was even written as law (Show Boat is a cinematic example); I'm not saying this is right, or excuse it, or that an individual should be forced to choose, I'm just trying to explain where such a cultural idea would come from. To the vast majority of Americans, Halle Berry is black.
"...it is the weak who are cruel, and...gentleness is only to be expected from the strong." - Leo Reston
"Cruelty might be very human, and it might be cultural, but it's not acceptable." - Jodie Foster
"Cruelty might be very human, and it might be cultural, but it's not acceptable." - Jodie Foster
No, it’s not about the fact that the terms “Halle Barry” and “best actors” are mentioned together. But isn’t Del Toro white? And while we’re at it, isn’t Barry just as white as she’s black? That all “I’m the first black woman to win best actress, sob, sob” was so grotesque to begin with exactly because her distinctive Caucasian features, (just like Vanessa Williams’ – the first black Miss America – were), made her so “easy on the eye”. Yes, Bier, while making manipulative and exploitive films, is a rather progressive European, therefore for her two slightly tanned people are, well, people.Mister Tee wrote:One final twist: In going for the best actors, Bier has put together a racially mixed cast with Halle Berry and Benicio Del Toro in roles that were undoubtedly written as white. What a refreshing change.
-
Mister Tee
- Tenured Laureate
- Posts: 8648
- Joined: Wed Jan 01, 2003 2:57 pm
- Location: NYC
- Contact:
Not everyone is as quite enthusiastic as Wells.
Hollywood Reporter
Kirk Honeycutt
"Things We Lost in the Fire" is an unstable mix of a tearjerker, junkie-recovery story and odd-couple pairing. The film marks the American debut of Danish filmmaker Susanne Bier, whose European films show a strong affinity for stories of human frailties and of families unraveling. So this one is right up her alley. One final twist: In going for the best actors, Bier has put together a racially mixed cast with Halle Berry and Benicio Del Toro in roles that were undoubtedly written as white. What a refreshing change.
Despite the challenges of blending a European sensibility into a Hollywood production, the film holds together not all that badly. Bier brings her audience into the film, to live the story with the characters in a manner highly unusual in an American film. Normally such dramatic intensity and keen observation come in top Sundance films pitched to small adult audiences, but with Oscar-winning actors top billed and the full-court press of Paramount's marketing team, "Fire" could and should break out to a much wider audience.
The film does not initially follow a linear path. Tacking forward and back over a brief period of time, the film, written by Allan Loeb, much more effectively conveys a sense of devastating loss than chronology would provide. A comfortable, happy family of four suffers the tragic death of the father, Brian Burke (David Duchovny). Yet because Brian appears on and off throughout these opening scenes via flashbacks, his actual absence becomes all the more an emotional, physical and even spiritual void.
If there is a false note here it is that this is a family set up for a fall: Everyone is too happy, comfortable and good looking to be real, and dad is impossibly good. He even dies a hero's death, trying to rescue a battered woman from her abusive -- and, it turns out, murderous -- husband. He also is a real estate genius who leaves behind enough of a nest egg that the only issue confronting his family is his loss.
There apparently was only one sore point between Brian and his loving, sexy wife Audrey (Berry). She neither understands nor appreciates his continuing friendship and support of childhood friend Jerry (Del Toro), a lawyer who has landed on skid row thanks to heroin addiction. So Jerry's appearance, at Audrey's generous invitation, during Brian's funeral is that of a ghost from another world -- yet a world in which he knows things about Brian that his wife does not.
As the only adult who loved Brian as much as she did, Audrey finds herself unnervingly drawn to Jerry. She invites the recovering addict to occupy the family's garage that was converted into a living quarters following a fire but never occupied. Jerry soon finds himself uncomfortably acting as a surrogate father and head of house. Ten-year-old Harper (Alexis Llewellyn) and 6-year-old Dory (Micah Berry, no relation to Halle) naturally respond to him with affection and emotional neediness. And there is something about him that allows him to tune into their wavelengths more easily than their own parents.
Another false note is hit when Audrey insists that Jerry come to her bed one night and hold her as Brian once did so she can fall asleep. It makes sense on no level -- especially given her antipathy for him at this time -- and the movie takes a while to recover.
Sensing that Jerry is getting too close to her kids, Audrey abruptly and unfairly kicks him out of the garage. She does so just as Jerry has gotten a real estate license thanks to a friendly neighbor (John Carroll Lynch), who is trying to shake off his own sense of loss following Brian's death. This rejection causes Jerry to relapse. A fellow Narcotics Anonymous attendee, Kelly (Alison Lohman), notices his absence and her tip sends Audrey into skid row to reclaim the troubled man.
The scenes of Jerry's recovery and Kelly's surprising impact on the Burke family elevate the third act into finely observed human drama. Despite its false steps, the film reclaims the intensity and integrity of its early scenes to finish on a note of hope.
Bier again sticks to the handheld camera style of previous films, even shoving her camera into actors' eyeballs, which is not always the best way to convey the emotions of particular scenes. Probably the most distracting problem is, oddly, her lead actress' glamour. With her own credited makeup artist and hair stylist, Berry walks into each scene, no matter what the emotions, as if ready for a photo shoot. The worst instance comes when Audrey searches for Jerry in a grim back alley junkies have turned into a shooting gallery. She is dressed in a tight outfit and eye-catching red jacket that is completely out of place.
Berry does deliver a solid performance as a woman and mother at the end of her emotional rope, not always rational but struggling to hold it together. Del Toro has nailed the junkie vibe without resorting to histrionics. He too is trying to hold himself together even as his insides threaten to implode. Duchovny makes a considerable impact in his brief appearances.
Lynch and Lohman do well with much meatier roles than minor supporting character generally have. Llewellyn and Berry are excellent as the children, who don't quite know how to feel about their father's death and the sudden appearance of a new man in their lives.
Hollywood Reporter
Kirk Honeycutt
"Things We Lost in the Fire" is an unstable mix of a tearjerker, junkie-recovery story and odd-couple pairing. The film marks the American debut of Danish filmmaker Susanne Bier, whose European films show a strong affinity for stories of human frailties and of families unraveling. So this one is right up her alley. One final twist: In going for the best actors, Bier has put together a racially mixed cast with Halle Berry and Benicio Del Toro in roles that were undoubtedly written as white. What a refreshing change.
Despite the challenges of blending a European sensibility into a Hollywood production, the film holds together not all that badly. Bier brings her audience into the film, to live the story with the characters in a manner highly unusual in an American film. Normally such dramatic intensity and keen observation come in top Sundance films pitched to small adult audiences, but with Oscar-winning actors top billed and the full-court press of Paramount's marketing team, "Fire" could and should break out to a much wider audience.
The film does not initially follow a linear path. Tacking forward and back over a brief period of time, the film, written by Allan Loeb, much more effectively conveys a sense of devastating loss than chronology would provide. A comfortable, happy family of four suffers the tragic death of the father, Brian Burke (David Duchovny). Yet because Brian appears on and off throughout these opening scenes via flashbacks, his actual absence becomes all the more an emotional, physical and even spiritual void.
If there is a false note here it is that this is a family set up for a fall: Everyone is too happy, comfortable and good looking to be real, and dad is impossibly good. He even dies a hero's death, trying to rescue a battered woman from her abusive -- and, it turns out, murderous -- husband. He also is a real estate genius who leaves behind enough of a nest egg that the only issue confronting his family is his loss.
There apparently was only one sore point between Brian and his loving, sexy wife Audrey (Berry). She neither understands nor appreciates his continuing friendship and support of childhood friend Jerry (Del Toro), a lawyer who has landed on skid row thanks to heroin addiction. So Jerry's appearance, at Audrey's generous invitation, during Brian's funeral is that of a ghost from another world -- yet a world in which he knows things about Brian that his wife does not.
As the only adult who loved Brian as much as she did, Audrey finds herself unnervingly drawn to Jerry. She invites the recovering addict to occupy the family's garage that was converted into a living quarters following a fire but never occupied. Jerry soon finds himself uncomfortably acting as a surrogate father and head of house. Ten-year-old Harper (Alexis Llewellyn) and 6-year-old Dory (Micah Berry, no relation to Halle) naturally respond to him with affection and emotional neediness. And there is something about him that allows him to tune into their wavelengths more easily than their own parents.
Another false note is hit when Audrey insists that Jerry come to her bed one night and hold her as Brian once did so she can fall asleep. It makes sense on no level -- especially given her antipathy for him at this time -- and the movie takes a while to recover.
Sensing that Jerry is getting too close to her kids, Audrey abruptly and unfairly kicks him out of the garage. She does so just as Jerry has gotten a real estate license thanks to a friendly neighbor (John Carroll Lynch), who is trying to shake off his own sense of loss following Brian's death. This rejection causes Jerry to relapse. A fellow Narcotics Anonymous attendee, Kelly (Alison Lohman), notices his absence and her tip sends Audrey into skid row to reclaim the troubled man.
The scenes of Jerry's recovery and Kelly's surprising impact on the Burke family elevate the third act into finely observed human drama. Despite its false steps, the film reclaims the intensity and integrity of its early scenes to finish on a note of hope.
Bier again sticks to the handheld camera style of previous films, even shoving her camera into actors' eyeballs, which is not always the best way to convey the emotions of particular scenes. Probably the most distracting problem is, oddly, her lead actress' glamour. With her own credited makeup artist and hair stylist, Berry walks into each scene, no matter what the emotions, as if ready for a photo shoot. The worst instance comes when Audrey searches for Jerry in a grim back alley junkies have turned into a shooting gallery. She is dressed in a tight outfit and eye-catching red jacket that is completely out of place.
Berry does deliver a solid performance as a woman and mother at the end of her emotional rope, not always rational but struggling to hold it together. Del Toro has nailed the junkie vibe without resorting to histrionics. He too is trying to hold himself together even as his insides threaten to implode. Duchovny makes a considerable impact in his brief appearances.
Lynch and Lohman do well with much meatier roles than minor supporting character generally have. Llewellyn and Berry are excellent as the children, who don't quite know how to feel about their father's death and the sudden appearance of a new man in their lives.
Jeffrey Wells raves...
Susanne Bier's Things We Lost in the Fire (Dreamamount, 10.19) is like a thousand emotional wind-chimes made into a quiet symphony. It's my idea of a flat-out masterpiece, certainly within the realm of the family- tragedy drama. Bier knows exactly what she's doing and how to make every moment feel true and on-target, and Benicio del Toro's lead performance as a heroin addict struggling to recover and stay that way is the best I've seen this year from anyone of either gender, country or classification. Yeah, that's what I said.
I saw Bier's film yesterday afternoon and came out weak-kneed. I knew it was doing something really right and dead-center five minutes in. Films about healing and recovery (the oppressors in this case being grief and drug addiction) can sound dreary as hell when you read the capsule descriptions, but there are some that settle down into themselves and strike deep, sonorous chords (in the vein of, say, Ordinary People, which isn't as subtle and carefully shaded as this one). Add the curious but unmistakable chemistry of spot-on performances (i.e., the ones that never seem to try to do anything but wind up doing everything) and you've left with something that can feel almost miraculous.
Dreamamount is sitting on Things We Lost in the Fire like a chicken sits on an egg. They're keeping it warm and protected, but they're not exactly doing the old ballyhoo cartwheel. Maybe there's nothing to sing about response-wise. I'm guessing that the film hasn't played all that strongly with Average Joes (i.e., a distaste for stories dealing with drug users?), and that reactions from critics hasn't been universally ecstatic (despite others having had reactions similar to mine), and that a decision has been made by marketers to limit spending. Promote it modestly, put it into theatres two weeks from now and let it die.
Good smallish films like Things We Lost in the Fire are faintly promoted to death all the time by big-studio marketing departments A film like this should be released by a smallish outfit like Picturehouse or ThinkFilm or Sony Classics. Movies this good shouldn't somehow be given flight. I know I'm not feeling the juice so far, and it makes me want to shake my head and kick the curb.
I don't care what others may be saying. I know it when I've seen something exceptional. Movies about small emotional brewings that gradually turn into magic potions simply don't get any better than this.
And there can be no beating around the bush about Del Toro's performance as Jerry the junkie, a once-successful lawyer who's succumbed to heroin addiction who, over the course of this two-hour film, climbs out of his drug hole, brightens up, chills out and settles in, relapses, almost dies, and then gradually climbs out of it again. The man (his friends and Esquire magazine profilers call him "Benny") is a God. He's holding bigger mountains in the palm of his hand, right now, than De Niro held in the '70s and '80s. He's one of the top four or five superman actors we have out there. There isn't a frame of his performance in this film that doesn't express pure, undiluted human truth.
On one hand I don't care what anyone else thinks, and on another it's irritating as hell that few others seem to feel the same way. I'll tell you this -- when journalists who've seen Things We Lost in the Fire go "I don't know...meh" and then say in the same breath that Gone Baby Gone is "pretty good" there's some kind of disease out there that I don't want to give a name to.
I know that at least two critic friends (one of whom I saw it with yesterday) aren't big fans. But this is a film that's been kissed by something. Beir (Open Hearts, Brothers, After The Wedding) is a master of intimacy and soul-searchings that feel like un-rhymed and.uncalculated, but which really sink in. The behavior in her films never seems pushed or "performed," and there's no question in my mind that this is her best effort ever.
I'm really not understanding the subdued response so far to del Toro's performance so far. He might floor everyone next year with is Che Guevara in The Argentine and Guerilla, but Jerry is the best thing he's ever done thus far -- twitchier than Fenster in The Usual Suspects, weaker and more vulnerable than Javier Rodriguez in Traffic, less ravaged and down-heady than Jack Jordan in 21 Grams.
And Halle Berry has truly saved her career with her performance as Audrey, a Seattle-based mother of two who loses her husband Brian (David Duchovny, rejoicing in his best part since The Rapture), a very successful architect and house-builder, to an act of idiotic violence one night. It's easily her best role and best performance since Monster's Ball.
Audrey isn't a weakling, but she's prone to emotionally needy behavior at times. Her kids, a six year old buy named Dory (Micah Berry) and a ten year old girl named Harper (Alexis Llewellyn), are as stunned as Audrey but, being kids, seem to have it in them to cope better and recover faster.
Jerry, caught up in a long downswirl and living in a flop house, had been Brian's best friend since childhood. He's dazed and out of it when told of Brian's death, and has to be driven to the funeral reception. Audrey resented him when Brain was alive -- she saw as pure deadweight --but she feels lost and zombified in the days and weeks after the funeral, and one day she invites Jerry to live with her and the kids in a room attached to, but not part of, the house -- not as a mercy or pity gesture for Jerry's sake (although it's partly that), but because she feels on some level that she needs some remnant of Brian to keep on with, or at least be near to.
So she helps Jerry out, and then he helps her out (particularly with the kids), and then things suddenly go wrong due to some moments of near-panic on Audrey's part, which triggers the same in Jerry and before you know it it's recovery time again and the slow, always difficult process back to health and stability.
Bier and screenwriter Allan Loeb stay as far away as you can imagine from the standard beats and turns in stories like these, first and foremost being the avoidanc e of romantic entanglement (although this is flirted with briefly). The sense of restraint and searching for "a different way to milk it" in Things We Lost in the Fire is constant and, in its own way, quite soothing. Delightful, in fact.
Cheers to a superb supporting cast, particularly John Carroll Lynch (as a next-door neighbor going through his own strife and uncertainty) and Omar Benson Miller.
Susanne Bier's Things We Lost in the Fire (Dreamamount, 10.19) is like a thousand emotional wind-chimes made into a quiet symphony. It's my idea of a flat-out masterpiece, certainly within the realm of the family- tragedy drama. Bier knows exactly what she's doing and how to make every moment feel true and on-target, and Benicio del Toro's lead performance as a heroin addict struggling to recover and stay that way is the best I've seen this year from anyone of either gender, country or classification. Yeah, that's what I said.
I saw Bier's film yesterday afternoon and came out weak-kneed. I knew it was doing something really right and dead-center five minutes in. Films about healing and recovery (the oppressors in this case being grief and drug addiction) can sound dreary as hell when you read the capsule descriptions, but there are some that settle down into themselves and strike deep, sonorous chords (in the vein of, say, Ordinary People, which isn't as subtle and carefully shaded as this one). Add the curious but unmistakable chemistry of spot-on performances (i.e., the ones that never seem to try to do anything but wind up doing everything) and you've left with something that can feel almost miraculous.
Dreamamount is sitting on Things We Lost in the Fire like a chicken sits on an egg. They're keeping it warm and protected, but they're not exactly doing the old ballyhoo cartwheel. Maybe there's nothing to sing about response-wise. I'm guessing that the film hasn't played all that strongly with Average Joes (i.e., a distaste for stories dealing with drug users?), and that reactions from critics hasn't been universally ecstatic (despite others having had reactions similar to mine), and that a decision has been made by marketers to limit spending. Promote it modestly, put it into theatres two weeks from now and let it die.
Good smallish films like Things We Lost in the Fire are faintly promoted to death all the time by big-studio marketing departments A film like this should be released by a smallish outfit like Picturehouse or ThinkFilm or Sony Classics. Movies this good shouldn't somehow be given flight. I know I'm not feeling the juice so far, and it makes me want to shake my head and kick the curb.
I don't care what others may be saying. I know it when I've seen something exceptional. Movies about small emotional brewings that gradually turn into magic potions simply don't get any better than this.
And there can be no beating around the bush about Del Toro's performance as Jerry the junkie, a once-successful lawyer who's succumbed to heroin addiction who, over the course of this two-hour film, climbs out of his drug hole, brightens up, chills out and settles in, relapses, almost dies, and then gradually climbs out of it again. The man (his friends and Esquire magazine profilers call him "Benny") is a God. He's holding bigger mountains in the palm of his hand, right now, than De Niro held in the '70s and '80s. He's one of the top four or five superman actors we have out there. There isn't a frame of his performance in this film that doesn't express pure, undiluted human truth.
On one hand I don't care what anyone else thinks, and on another it's irritating as hell that few others seem to feel the same way. I'll tell you this -- when journalists who've seen Things We Lost in the Fire go "I don't know...meh" and then say in the same breath that Gone Baby Gone is "pretty good" there's some kind of disease out there that I don't want to give a name to.
I know that at least two critic friends (one of whom I saw it with yesterday) aren't big fans. But this is a film that's been kissed by something. Beir (Open Hearts, Brothers, After The Wedding) is a master of intimacy and soul-searchings that feel like un-rhymed and.uncalculated, but which really sink in. The behavior in her films never seems pushed or "performed," and there's no question in my mind that this is her best effort ever.
I'm really not understanding the subdued response so far to del Toro's performance so far. He might floor everyone next year with is Che Guevara in The Argentine and Guerilla, but Jerry is the best thing he's ever done thus far -- twitchier than Fenster in The Usual Suspects, weaker and more vulnerable than Javier Rodriguez in Traffic, less ravaged and down-heady than Jack Jordan in 21 Grams.
And Halle Berry has truly saved her career with her performance as Audrey, a Seattle-based mother of two who loses her husband Brian (David Duchovny, rejoicing in his best part since The Rapture), a very successful architect and house-builder, to an act of idiotic violence one night. It's easily her best role and best performance since Monster's Ball.
Audrey isn't a weakling, but she's prone to emotionally needy behavior at times. Her kids, a six year old buy named Dory (Micah Berry) and a ten year old girl named Harper (Alexis Llewellyn), are as stunned as Audrey but, being kids, seem to have it in them to cope better and recover faster.
Jerry, caught up in a long downswirl and living in a flop house, had been Brian's best friend since childhood. He's dazed and out of it when told of Brian's death, and has to be driven to the funeral reception. Audrey resented him when Brain was alive -- she saw as pure deadweight --but she feels lost and zombified in the days and weeks after the funeral, and one day she invites Jerry to live with her and the kids in a room attached to, but not part of, the house -- not as a mercy or pity gesture for Jerry's sake (although it's partly that), but because she feels on some level that she needs some remnant of Brian to keep on with, or at least be near to.
So she helps Jerry out, and then he helps her out (particularly with the kids), and then things suddenly go wrong due to some moments of near-panic on Audrey's part, which triggers the same in Jerry and before you know it it's recovery time again and the slow, always difficult process back to health and stability.
Bier and screenwriter Allan Loeb stay as far away as you can imagine from the standard beats and turns in stories like these, first and foremost being the avoidanc e of romantic entanglement (although this is flirted with briefly). The sense of restraint and searching for "a different way to milk it" in Things We Lost in the Fire is constant and, in its own way, quite soothing. Delightful, in fact.
Cheers to a superb supporting cast, particularly John Carroll Lynch (as a next-door neighbor going through his own strife and uncertainty) and Omar Benson Miller.
"How's the despair?"
-
Big Magilla
- Site Admin
- Posts: 19336
- Joined: Wed Jan 01, 2003 3:22 pm
- Location: Jersey Shore
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0469623/tra ... 33837-10-2
Not the most original concept and the trailer makes me believe the film will have several very saccharine moments. But the trailer also makes me want to see this film. Looks like Halle and Benecio did some of their best work in a long time.
Especially happy to see Halle doing something worthwhile. I was not a fan of Monster's Ball or her performance in that film. But I was sad to see her waste her talent on one lame project after another. This trailer gives me hope that this project will be a welcome change.
Any buzz about this? Any screenings or festival showings?
(Sorry, looks like you will have to copy and paste the link to the trailer onto your address bar. Don't know why the direct link did not post.)
Not the most original concept and the trailer makes me believe the film will have several very saccharine moments. But the trailer also makes me want to see this film. Looks like Halle and Benecio did some of their best work in a long time.
Especially happy to see Halle doing something worthwhile. I was not a fan of Monster's Ball or her performance in that film. But I was sad to see her waste her talent on one lame project after another. This trailer gives me hope that this project will be a welcome change.
Any buzz about this? Any screenings or festival showings?
(Sorry, looks like you will have to copy and paste the link to the trailer onto your address bar. Don't know why the direct link did not post.)
The great thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving. It's faith in something and enthusiasm for something that makes a life worth living. Oliver Wendell Holmes