The Official Review Thread of 2009
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FilmFan720
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Thanks Tee. While I haven't seen the entire scope of Swinton's work, I have seen enough of the "earlier" work to never be overly impressed by her body of work. It's not that I don't find her talented, just that I was ill-prepared to be this sucked into her performance. Her work, even at its best, always kept me at arm's length before.
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Mister Tee
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Uri wrote:FilmFan720 wrote:Let me join (late, as usual) the chorus of complaining that Tilda Swinton is not getting a nomination for Julia. It is a brauva performance...I second everything Mister Tee put so perfectly in his summation of her performance. Swinton has never been a favorite of mine, but her transformation here makes me wonder if she has merely been miscast for the past few years...she is always the inc control bitch, but here her grasping for a complete lack of control is so powerful that you have to wonder why she doesn't play this kind of role more often. I have always seem her as too heady in her performances, but this one is all emotion and she nails it out of the park. Stupid Academy (and critics voters)
Off course, her career is much more then her turns in Vanilla Sky, Adaptation, Michael Clayton and Burn After Reading, although in a way one might associate them with her acclaimed early work in Edward II. Orlando, The War Zone, The Deep End, Young Adam, Thumbsucker, Broken Flowers, even Benjamin Button – all demonstrate a the much wider spectrum of her talent. The rather imagineless way she was used in big budget movies is more an indication of the limitation of the casting system in Hollywood than her abilities.
Maybe I'm being over-sensitive here, but it strikes me this post comes perilously close to assuming that FilmFan would only have seen Swinton's work in the wide-grossing stuff and would have a different opinion had he only a wider exposure to Swinton's hipper work. But I've seen Orlando, Broken Flowers, Young Adam, The Deep End (I in fact thought she gave the best performance of 2001 in Deep End), yet I still had a vague sense of boundaries to her work, through which I thought she pushed in Julia.
If I misread/overrreacted to your original post, apologies. I'm just getting too many hints of "you couldn't think that unless you were uneducated" around here lately, which I think gives too little credit to much of our membership.
Edited By Mister Tee on 1262978243
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Johnny Guitar
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Uri wrote:Off course, her career is much more then her turns in Vanilla Sky, Adaptation, Michael Clayton and Burn After Reading, although in a way one might associate them with her acclaimed early work in Edward II. Orlando, The War Zone, The Deep End, Young Adam, Thumbsucker, Broken Flowers, even Benjamin Button – all demonstrate a the much wider spectrum of her talent. The rather imagineless way she was used in big budget movies is more an indication of the limitation of the casting system in Hollywood than her abilities.
I second this post.
Swinton once said something to the effect that The Chronicles of Narnia was, unwittingly, the world's most expensive advertisement for the back catalogue of Derek Jarman.
I'm very glad, Damien, not only that you liked the movie, but also that you "got" it so well, something that honestly I wasn't sure a foreigner could do. But you did (missing "some" references is more than understandable, the movie is filled with such a number of details that even some Italians may have troubles catching all of them; like in a wide fresco, it's the general painting which counts).Damien wrote:Il Divo (Paolo Sorrentino)
Although those of us with only a passing knowledge of mid-to-late 20th century Italian political history will inevitably miss some references and nuances, this is still one terrific movie experience. Director Paolo Sorrentino has style to spare, but it's not empty flourishes for the sake of having flourishes – his choreographic tracking shots, effortlessly gliding camera, occasionally hallucinatory imagery, evocative eclectic musical score are all in the service of turning the career of former Italian prime minister Giulio Andreotti into a work that is at times operatic, Shakespearean (there are echoes of Richard III and, surprisingly, Lear), Fellini-esque. It's also a tense crime drama, trenchant social critique, fascinating character study and a mordant black comedy, and somehow all these elements coalesce in a coherent whole.
Andreotti remains an enigmatic figure, not because Sorrentino is incapable of defining him but because the Andreotti of the film wants to remain an enigma, and perhaps doesn't himself know exactly who he is. (His wife knows, but she keeps things to herself until towards the end of the picture.) One wonderful stylistic device Sorrentino employs is to have his camera come rushing towards the actor and then move to the side or above him, thus emphasizing the theme of Andreotti's inability to be pigeonholed, his refusal to be "understood."
In a masterful performance, Toni Servillo portrays the Prime Minister with a singular lack of facial expressions – adding to his inscrutability – and even when he walks he scarcely seems to be moving at all, as he slouches along. Yet with this extreme underplaying he somehow manages to be immensely emotive. And makes what is objectively a repugnant – both physically and morally – character, if not sympathetic at least empathetic, and somewhat tragic.
8/10
Italian movies historically have often, and wth uncommon honesty I'd say, dealt with the problems of the country, including the social and political ones; but mostly it was about the poor people or the mafia or the corruption or anything else which was the result of Italy's bizarre "high" politics, where the real power is. But that higher level was rarely directly shown. This movie isn't afraid to do so, and in the most explicit, courageous way (Andreotti is still alive) .
The result is a political movie which succeeds in being both complex AND affecting; a must for those who want to get a glimpse, and a deep one, in the subtle mechanisms of power (and not only of Italian power) It's also one of the very few movies of recent Italian cinema of which I can say I'm really proud.
And you got the references to Shakespeare and Fellini, too.
FilmFan720 wrote:Let me join (late, as usual) the chorus of complaining that Tilda Swinton is not getting a nomination for Julia. It is a brauva performance...I second everything Mister Tee put so perfectly in his summation of her performance. Swinton has never been a favorite of mine, but her transformation here makes me wonder if she has merely been miscast for the past few years...she is always the inc control bitch, but here her grasping for a complete lack of control is so powerful that you have to wonder why she doesn't play this kind of role more often. I have always seem her as too heady in her performances, but this one is all emotion and she nails it out of the park. Stupid Academy (and critics voters)
Off course, her career is much more then her turns in Vanilla Sky, Adaptation, Michael Clayton and Burn After Reading, although in a way one might associate them with her acclaimed early work in Edward II. Orlando, The War Zone, The Deep End, Young Adam, Thumbsucker, Broken Flowers, even Benjamin Button – all demonstrate a the much wider spectrum of her talent. The rather imagineless way she was used in big budget movies is more an indication of the limitation of the casting system in Hollywood than her abilities.
Edited By Uri on 1262933462
Il Divo (Paolo Sorrentino)
Although those of us with only a passing knowledge of mid-to-late 20th century Italian political history will inevitably miss some references and nuances, this is still one terrific movie experience. Director Paolo Sorrentino has style to spare, but it's not empty flourishes for the sake of having flourishes – his choreographic tracking shots, effortlessly gliding camera, occasionally hallucinatory imagery, evocative eclectic musical score are all in the service of turning the career of former Italian prime minister Giulio Andreotti into a work that is at times operatic, Shakespearean (there are echoes of Richard III and, surprisingly, Lear), Fellini-esque. It's also a tense crime drama, trenchant social critique, fascinating character study and a mordant black comedy, and somehow all these elements coalesce in a coherent whole.
Andreotti remains an enigmatic figure, not because Sorrentino is incapable of defining him but because the Andreotti of the film wants to remain an enigma, and perhaps doesn't himself know exactly who he is. (His wife knows, but she keeps things to herself until towards the end of the picture.) One wonderful stylistic device Sorrentino employs is to have his camera come rushing towards the actor and then move to the side or above him, thus emphasizing the theme of Andreotti's inability to be pigeonholed, his refusal to be "understood."
In a masterful performance, Toni Servillo portrays the Prime Minister with a singular lack of facial expressions – adding to his inscrutability – and even when he walks he scarcely seems to be moving at all, as he slouches along. Yet with this extreme underplaying he somehow manages to be immensely emotive. And makes what is objectively a repugnant – both physically and morally – character, if not sympathetic at least empathetic, and somewhat tragic.
8/10
Edited By Damien on 1262935143
Although those of us with only a passing knowledge of mid-to-late 20th century Italian political history will inevitably miss some references and nuances, this is still one terrific movie experience. Director Paolo Sorrentino has style to spare, but it's not empty flourishes for the sake of having flourishes – his choreographic tracking shots, effortlessly gliding camera, occasionally hallucinatory imagery, evocative eclectic musical score are all in the service of turning the career of former Italian prime minister Giulio Andreotti into a work that is at times operatic, Shakespearean (there are echoes of Richard III and, surprisingly, Lear), Fellini-esque. It's also a tense crime drama, trenchant social critique, fascinating character study and a mordant black comedy, and somehow all these elements coalesce in a coherent whole.
Andreotti remains an enigmatic figure, not because Sorrentino is incapable of defining him but because the Andreotti of the film wants to remain an enigma, and perhaps doesn't himself know exactly who he is. (His wife knows, but she keeps things to herself until towards the end of the picture.) One wonderful stylistic device Sorrentino employs is to have his camera come rushing towards the actor and then move to the side or above him, thus emphasizing the theme of Andreotti's inability to be pigeonholed, his refusal to be "understood."
In a masterful performance, Toni Servillo portrays the Prime Minister with a singular lack of facial expressions – adding to his inscrutability – and even when he walks he scarcely seems to be moving at all, as he slouches along. Yet with this extreme underplaying he somehow manages to be immensely emotive. And makes what is objectively a repugnant – both physically and morally – character, if not sympathetic at least empathetic, and somewhat tragic.
8/10
Edited By Damien on 1262935143
"Y'know, that's one of the things I like about Mitt Romney. He's been consistent since he changed his mind." -- Christine O'Donnell
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FilmFan720
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Let me join (late, as usual) the chorus of complaining that Tilda Swinton is not getting a nomination for Julia. It is a brauva performance...I second everything Mister Tee put so perfectly in his summation of her performance. Swinton has never been a favorite of mine, but her transformation here makes me wonder if she has merely been miscast for the past few years...she is always the inc control bitch, but here her grasping for a complete lack of control is so powerful that you have to wonder why she doesn't play this kind of role more often. I have always seem her as too heady in her performances, but this one is all emotion and she nails it out of the park. Stupid Academy (and critics voters)
"Go into the world and do well. But more importantly, go into the world and do good."
- Minor Myers, Jr.
- Minor Myers, Jr.
The International (Tom Tykwer)
A throwback to espionage/conspiracy films of the 60s and 70s, with its globe-trotting locations, sense of paranoia and complicated plot. The film is gripping and has a praiseworthy gravitas and sense of seriousness throughout. Tykwer’s direction is uneven, though – he mostly uses locations very well throughout and the action scenes are tensely done, but then a shootout at the Guggenheim Museum – which, with is multi-leveled rotunda offered a myriad of possibilities -- is almost a complete washout. The nicest aspect of the film is the low-key, non-star-preening performance of the two leads. Owen would have been a much better James Bond than Daniel Craig.
6/10
Edited By Damien on 1262836662
A throwback to espionage/conspiracy films of the 60s and 70s, with its globe-trotting locations, sense of paranoia and complicated plot. The film is gripping and has a praiseworthy gravitas and sense of seriousness throughout. Tykwer’s direction is uneven, though – he mostly uses locations very well throughout and the action scenes are tensely done, but then a shootout at the Guggenheim Museum – which, with is multi-leveled rotunda offered a myriad of possibilities -- is almost a complete washout. The nicest aspect of the film is the low-key, non-star-preening performance of the two leads. Owen would have been a much better James Bond than Daniel Craig.
6/10
Edited By Damien on 1262836662
"Y'know, that's one of the things I like about Mitt Romney. He's been consistent since he changed his mind." -- Christine O'Donnell
/Where the Wild Things Are/
My ballot for Best Supporting Actor is split between two egomaniacal monsters: Christian McKay for Me and Orson Welles and James Gandolfini for Where the Wild Things Are. I'm still hoping that McKay makes a surprise showing at the Oscars because it's such a glorious showboat, but James Gandolfini never touched foot in this race. The ensemble of In the Loop is just a little too strong for him to completely stand-out, although he does do a very funny impersonation of a ball-sack. Then there's his performance as Carol. I don't know the mechanics of this childish bruiser and how one would categorize his performance but James Gandolfini's voice supports Where the Wild Things Are like few performers do in few films this year. The fusion of physical creation and Gandolfini's voice together constitutes a truly one of a kind performance.
(MINOR SPOILERS)
My initial faults with Where the Wild Things Are now seems a little overblown, but I still feel as though the film drops the ball in its most affecting moment. There are a lot of Moments Out of Time this year that just turned me into a wreck. Where Carol howls at Max near the end of Where the Wild Things are, I once again lost it. But the moment is problematic because immediately afterwards we see him sailing away with an adventurous smile on his face. He should leave that island as much a wreck as I did! The screenplay to Where the Wild Things Are is understandably sparse and for much of the film it works in its favor in creating a lovely mood narrative. One of my best friends (child of divorce that he is) was rendered weeping man-child by its end, and I feel as though children of divorce perhaps do a little too much heavy-lifting. I can certainly understand this as A Serious Man is one of my Jewish ass' favorite movies of the year.
When Max comes home, his mother gets him a wholly undeserved slice of cake and then falls asleep looking at him. Max looks at his mother and understands the eternal battle between squid and whale: divorce is such a primitive battle that it will never truly stop, only grow more restless. Yet the look he gives his mother ISN'T one of recognition. It's curiosity and then it blends into a smile. How is that recognition? I don't think Max has begun to grow by the end of the film. When he sails away from the Wild Things, he leaves Carol without one last moment. The howling is a lovely moment and I'll let that go, but what comes afterwards I still find problematic and incomplete, frustrating.
As frustrating as I find some it, you have NEVER seen a film like Where the Wild Things Are and it achieves a lifting coming of age power that is so genuine and beguiling and singular that I can forgive its flaws to a large degree. I do think it's a strong piece of filmmaking that's just a little limited by the scope of the narrative, not the direction. It's a gorgeously shot film with creatures that live and breathe as walking marvels, and the opening fifteen minutes or so are as perfectly calculated as anything this year.
My ballot for Best Supporting Actor is split between two egomaniacal monsters: Christian McKay for Me and Orson Welles and James Gandolfini for Where the Wild Things Are. I'm still hoping that McKay makes a surprise showing at the Oscars because it's such a glorious showboat, but James Gandolfini never touched foot in this race. The ensemble of In the Loop is just a little too strong for him to completely stand-out, although he does do a very funny impersonation of a ball-sack. Then there's his performance as Carol. I don't know the mechanics of this childish bruiser and how one would categorize his performance but James Gandolfini's voice supports Where the Wild Things Are like few performers do in few films this year. The fusion of physical creation and Gandolfini's voice together constitutes a truly one of a kind performance.
(MINOR SPOILERS)
My initial faults with Where the Wild Things Are now seems a little overblown, but I still feel as though the film drops the ball in its most affecting moment. There are a lot of Moments Out of Time this year that just turned me into a wreck. Where Carol howls at Max near the end of Where the Wild Things are, I once again lost it. But the moment is problematic because immediately afterwards we see him sailing away with an adventurous smile on his face. He should leave that island as much a wreck as I did! The screenplay to Where the Wild Things Are is understandably sparse and for much of the film it works in its favor in creating a lovely mood narrative. One of my best friends (child of divorce that he is) was rendered weeping man-child by its end, and I feel as though children of divorce perhaps do a little too much heavy-lifting. I can certainly understand this as A Serious Man is one of my Jewish ass' favorite movies of the year.
When Max comes home, his mother gets him a wholly undeserved slice of cake and then falls asleep looking at him. Max looks at his mother and understands the eternal battle between squid and whale: divorce is such a primitive battle that it will never truly stop, only grow more restless. Yet the look he gives his mother ISN'T one of recognition. It's curiosity and then it blends into a smile. How is that recognition? I don't think Max has begun to grow by the end of the film. When he sails away from the Wild Things, he leaves Carol without one last moment. The howling is a lovely moment and I'll let that go, but what comes afterwards I still find problematic and incomplete, frustrating.
As frustrating as I find some it, you have NEVER seen a film like Where the Wild Things Are and it achieves a lifting coming of age power that is so genuine and beguiling and singular that I can forgive its flaws to a large degree. I do think it's a strong piece of filmmaking that's just a little limited by the scope of the narrative, not the direction. It's a gorgeously shot film with creatures that live and breathe as walking marvels, and the opening fifteen minutes or so are as perfectly calculated as anything this year.
"How's the despair?"
Dogville is my favorite von Trier and one of my favorite films of the decade. I don't think it's a sophomoric rant, but ye gods! This is! Actually no. If Dogville is sophomoric, this is maaaaaybe 2nd grade. I think a 2nd grader understands as much about Mommy and Daddy as von Trier.
"How's the despair?"
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Big Magilla
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Sabin, I think you've go von Trier pegged, but after Dancing in the Dark and Dogville I couldn't be bothered wasting my time watching another one of his sophomoric rants let alone having the energy to write about them.
I still have fond memories of Emily Watson in Breaking the Waves, though I will probably never watch it again.
I still have fond memories of Emily Watson in Breaking the Waves, though I will probably never watch it again.
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Big Magilla
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Yes, the performance is that transformative. A brilliant piece of acting that is getting short shrift for reasons I can't fathom. Maybe too many Julie and Julias in this year's race.Mister Tee wrote:Right from the first shot, I found myself thinking, that's Swinton, right? -- yet, somehow, it didn't seem like the Swinton to whom I'm accustomed. (I had a similar reaction to Edith Evans in The Whisperers)
Antichrist (von Trier)
I would love it if Julie & Julia would cross-cut to DaFoe & Gainsbrough for a triptych. Amy Adams is trying a poached egg for the first time while Charlotte Gainsbrough is beating the shit out of a buried Willem DaFoe screaming WHERE ARE YOU?!? Both films deal with trying to be just the best person you can be, and trying to juggle having it all with pleasing your man.
I pretty much have the same opinion of people who like Antichrist as Julie & Julia. WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU GAINING FROM THIS NONSENSE? These aren't people! These aren't problems! Before I move onto Antichrist fully, I'll just say that Willem DaFoe is a bitch in this movie. After Gainsbrough smashes his testicles and screws a wheel into his leg, he proceeds to drag himself half a mile after her ON HIS STOMACH. Like a bitch! And every once in a while, it looks like he can actually feel it! God, suck it up, pussy! It's only a weighted open wound and your bleeding, open testicles.
Did you know that man or woman, you can basically run a mile with mutilated genitalia? It's true. It's totally doable.
Lars von Trier hits on something interesting in the first third, starts really flirting with it, and then just hate-fucks for the rest of the film. I've read that essentially he had to entirely rewrite this screenplay because it was leaked public. So basically von Trier could either make his movie or rewrite it in desperation. I don't want to speculate too much, but this feels like a movie you're perennially on the outside of. Anthony Dod Mantel's cinematography does some very interesting spatial techniques early on, but the meat of the screenplay becomes heavily rooted in archaic symbolism and historical lore from characters who vaguely talk "around" situations that I found myself quite confused. I'm sure you could watch this film again to decipher it but why would you?
DaFoe & Gainsbrough lose their son. She blames herself for not being there and essentially becomes ripped from the fabric of her existence, what she's cultivated, and grieves like an animal whose vagina you can always see. This is nature. DaFoe is a therapist who tries to get her through this on his human terms. This is Selfish Evil Man And Basically Von Trier. Like in every Von Trier film for the past fifteen years, he stages a woman who is suffering the weight of the world and unintentionally courts charges of misogyny. I don't think Von Trier is a misogynist. I don't see anything misogynist in Breaking the Waves, Dogville, or Dancer in the Dark. Antichrist is being charged in some corners as the most misogynist film EVER in competition. I would ask any woman who feels that way DO YOU THINK FOR A SECOND THAT THIS SERIOUSLY REPRESENTS YOU? If it does, then perhaps, yes, it might be. But I don't think any intelligent person could honestly look at Antichrist and think that it touches a little too close to home.
Anyway, he tries to coax her through grief and she resists because grief is not a human thing. It is an animal thing. And because woman gives birth to life, man's attempt to shape grief is inherently flawed and fraudulent. von Trier wants to punish the men who would dare to take something as fragile as grief and distort it. I haven't seen any von Trier film before Zentropa which I've only seen once and can't terribly recall but I'm inclined to say on the basis of Breaking the Waves, Dogville, Dancer in the Dark, and Antichrist that this man is not a thinker. He takes dogma, deep-set beliefs, casts a female protagonist who represents all that this credo is, beats the shit out of her until she is defeated, and either the virtue is too pure for this world or the virtue's father kills everyone in the town. In Antichrist, he flirts with heavy symbolism and I think he comes up very short. It's the veritable definition of art-house hell.
This film is dedicated to Tarkovsky and the visual allusions to Stalker are very evident. Tarkovsky got away with more sensory discord without a 4K manipulation. He implied getting lost in the woods masterfully. You follow that stalker or you will die. With Antichrist, it's like von Trier decided that the problem with Tarkovsky is that he didn't manifest haunting visuals literally enough.
I would love it if Julie & Julia would cross-cut to DaFoe & Gainsbrough for a triptych. Amy Adams is trying a poached egg for the first time while Charlotte Gainsbrough is beating the shit out of a buried Willem DaFoe screaming WHERE ARE YOU?!? Both films deal with trying to be just the best person you can be, and trying to juggle having it all with pleasing your man.
I pretty much have the same opinion of people who like Antichrist as Julie & Julia. WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU GAINING FROM THIS NONSENSE? These aren't people! These aren't problems! Before I move onto Antichrist fully, I'll just say that Willem DaFoe is a bitch in this movie. After Gainsbrough smashes his testicles and screws a wheel into his leg, he proceeds to drag himself half a mile after her ON HIS STOMACH. Like a bitch! And every once in a while, it looks like he can actually feel it! God, suck it up, pussy! It's only a weighted open wound and your bleeding, open testicles.
Did you know that man or woman, you can basically run a mile with mutilated genitalia? It's true. It's totally doable.
Lars von Trier hits on something interesting in the first third, starts really flirting with it, and then just hate-fucks for the rest of the film. I've read that essentially he had to entirely rewrite this screenplay because it was leaked public. So basically von Trier could either make his movie or rewrite it in desperation. I don't want to speculate too much, but this feels like a movie you're perennially on the outside of. Anthony Dod Mantel's cinematography does some very interesting spatial techniques early on, but the meat of the screenplay becomes heavily rooted in archaic symbolism and historical lore from characters who vaguely talk "around" situations that I found myself quite confused. I'm sure you could watch this film again to decipher it but why would you?
DaFoe & Gainsbrough lose their son. She blames herself for not being there and essentially becomes ripped from the fabric of her existence, what she's cultivated, and grieves like an animal whose vagina you can always see. This is nature. DaFoe is a therapist who tries to get her through this on his human terms. This is Selfish Evil Man And Basically Von Trier. Like in every Von Trier film for the past fifteen years, he stages a woman who is suffering the weight of the world and unintentionally courts charges of misogyny. I don't think Von Trier is a misogynist. I don't see anything misogynist in Breaking the Waves, Dogville, or Dancer in the Dark. Antichrist is being charged in some corners as the most misogynist film EVER in competition. I would ask any woman who feels that way DO YOU THINK FOR A SECOND THAT THIS SERIOUSLY REPRESENTS YOU? If it does, then perhaps, yes, it might be. But I don't think any intelligent person could honestly look at Antichrist and think that it touches a little too close to home.
Anyway, he tries to coax her through grief and she resists because grief is not a human thing. It is an animal thing. And because woman gives birth to life, man's attempt to shape grief is inherently flawed and fraudulent. von Trier wants to punish the men who would dare to take something as fragile as grief and distort it. I haven't seen any von Trier film before Zentropa which I've only seen once and can't terribly recall but I'm inclined to say on the basis of Breaking the Waves, Dogville, Dancer in the Dark, and Antichrist that this man is not a thinker. He takes dogma, deep-set beliefs, casts a female protagonist who represents all that this credo is, beats the shit out of her until she is defeated, and either the virtue is too pure for this world or the virtue's father kills everyone in the town. In Antichrist, he flirts with heavy symbolism and I think he comes up very short. It's the veritable definition of art-house hell.
This film is dedicated to Tarkovsky and the visual allusions to Stalker are very evident. Tarkovsky got away with more sensory discord without a 4K manipulation. He implied getting lost in the woods masterfully. You follow that stalker or you will die. With Antichrist, it's like von Trier decided that the problem with Tarkovsky is that he didn't manifest haunting visuals literally enough.
"How's the despair?"
I just saw Julie & Julia. I quite enjoyed it, but Sabin your write-up is just great. Especially these two lines: "ulie & Julia is a quietly affecting story of husbands dealing with crazy bitches." and "the other to the lengths to which she deludes herself that she can be special through another person's specialness."
I've never liked Stanley Tucci before -- primarily because whenever he's on screen all I can see is Gene Siskel, but I think his is an extremely lovely performance.
I've never liked Stanley Tucci before -- primarily because whenever he's on screen all I can see is Gene Siskel, but I think his is an extremely lovely performance.
"Y'know, that's one of the things I like about Mitt Romney. He's been consistent since he changed his mind." -- Christine O'Donnell
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Mister Tee
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As for the single Julia...
As we've seen in the best actress threads, there are divergent standards for what constitutes a great performance. I can't say I'm even consistent from film to film, actor to actor, in upholding the same criteria. But there's one element I think works for me time after time: when I see an actor who seems to be possessed of a new soul for a character, I pretty much have to acknowledge the performance is great.
This was the case for me with Swinton's work. Right from the first shot, I found myself thinking, that's Swinton, right? -- yet, somehow, it didn't seem like the Swinton to whom I'm accustomed. (I had a similar reaction to Edith Evans in The Whisperers) Even in some of her dialogue scenes -- her snide put-downs of, say, the AA scene -- the way she expressed her contempt felt different from the way I've seen her display such attitudes in previous roles. Above all, we know Swinton the person is an intelligent, insightful, utterly rational being -- and here she plays a character of pure instinct (bordering on batshit crazy) without ever seeming to be distancing herself from Julia by even a millimeter. It may be this quality that makes some consider her miscast (someone said something similar about Weaver at the end of Gorillas in the Mist, where the "startling transformation" effect also worked for me). But for me it's a mark of excellence.
I wish I liked the movie on the same level. I had trouble from the beginning, as watching crazy losers do crazy losing things is not a favorite genre. I didn't ever really buy into the lunacy of the plot, and I thought it really jumped the rails when the Mexican kidnappers jumped into the frame. I was only glad the movie didn't go full-on bummer -- there were no truly horrific events, save poor Miguel's demise, about which the film seems to feel little lasting angst. Oh, and I didn't buy the "I'll sacrifice every penny to indulge a newly discovered maternal instinct" -- if that was really the concept from the beginning, someone needed to tell the writer/director how shockingly banal it is.
The film did move reasonably well, considering the excessive running time, but mostly it was Swinton that propelled things forward -- she succeeded in spite of the movie, not because of it.
As we've seen in the best actress threads, there are divergent standards for what constitutes a great performance. I can't say I'm even consistent from film to film, actor to actor, in upholding the same criteria. But there's one element I think works for me time after time: when I see an actor who seems to be possessed of a new soul for a character, I pretty much have to acknowledge the performance is great.
This was the case for me with Swinton's work. Right from the first shot, I found myself thinking, that's Swinton, right? -- yet, somehow, it didn't seem like the Swinton to whom I'm accustomed. (I had a similar reaction to Edith Evans in The Whisperers) Even in some of her dialogue scenes -- her snide put-downs of, say, the AA scene -- the way she expressed her contempt felt different from the way I've seen her display such attitudes in previous roles. Above all, we know Swinton the person is an intelligent, insightful, utterly rational being -- and here she plays a character of pure instinct (bordering on batshit crazy) without ever seeming to be distancing herself from Julia by even a millimeter. It may be this quality that makes some consider her miscast (someone said something similar about Weaver at the end of Gorillas in the Mist, where the "startling transformation" effect also worked for me). But for me it's a mark of excellence.
I wish I liked the movie on the same level. I had trouble from the beginning, as watching crazy losers do crazy losing things is not a favorite genre. I didn't ever really buy into the lunacy of the plot, and I thought it really jumped the rails when the Mexican kidnappers jumped into the frame. I was only glad the movie didn't go full-on bummer -- there were no truly horrific events, save poor Miguel's demise, about which the film seems to feel little lasting angst. Oh, and I didn't buy the "I'll sacrifice every penny to indulge a newly discovered maternal instinct" -- if that was really the concept from the beginning, someone needed to tell the writer/director how shockingly banal it is.
The film did move reasonably well, considering the excessive running time, but mostly it was Swinton that propelled things forward -- she succeeded in spite of the movie, not because of it.