Terrence Malick is one of my favourite directors, so it was with an incredible amount of excitement that I took to watching his 1978 picture Days of Heaven. The visual style of Malick is apparent from the outset, as the environment of the 1916 Texas Panhandle comes to life. The Ennio Morricone score adds to the experience, as the music’s sparing use helps in creating an immersive, overwhelming experience.

Now Malick’s Days of Heaven is a film of subdued emotions and of time. It is not a bold, adventurous sort of picture. It moves gracefully, logically. Malick doesn’t impose his characters or his visuals on us like other filmmakers and I think that’s part of what draws me to him. He allows the scene to manipulate us naturally, organically transforming us with every passing image.

It’s important to remember that Days of Heaven is a movie about a viewpoint. We are seeing the story of a love triangle and of tragic consequences through the eyes of Linda (Linda Manz), a young girl who is the younger sister of Chicago labourer Bill (Richard Gere). Linda travels with Bill and Bill’s girlfriend, the lovely Abby (Brooke Adams), as they look for work.

Their travels take them to work for a farmer (Sam Shepard). The farmer is a rich young man, but he’s dying of an unspecified condition and seems to have taken a liking to Abby. Because Bill and Abby are traveling under the guise of being siblings, this opens the door for a sort of con job that puts Abby in a relationship with the soon-to-die farmer in hopes of getting his money when he dies. Of course, this doesn’t really work out as planned and the surrounding emotions prove complicated.

This is all seen through the eyes of young Linda, whose understanding of the events is quite limited. Her narration is nothing short of brilliant, though, and we receive a number of special insights through her eyes that we wouldn’t have received by simply looking at the world through the eyes of the adults. This approach is part of what Malick uses to keep the emotions and the boldness of the tale at a distance.

In understanding the world of Days of Heaven through the eyes of Linda, we too have our perspectives limited. It is this limitation that Malick uses to draw us deeper into the natural world. He uses Linda to give us pause, to offer us a glimpse at the small bugs threatening the farmer’s crops, and to show us visions of blowing wheat fields and limitless prairie.

When it comes to creating films of profound beauty, Malick simply has no modern rival. The cinematography of Néstor Almendros helps draw his vision to life. Malick and Almendros meshed well together during production and the results are clear on screen. There is very little unnatural light cover these scenes, too, and that helps draw attention to the loneliness and exile of the Texas prairie.

It’s interesting to consider Gere in the role of Bill. Malick apparently had first tried to get Dustin Hoffman and Al Pacino to appear in the picture, but went with the young Gere after the other two turned him down. Looking at Days of Heaven now, I can’t think of anyone else who could have pulled off the muted resolve of Bill like Richard Gere. Shepard, too, is spot-on as the farmer.

Simply put, Days of Heaven is one of the most beautiful American pictures ever made. It’s showcase of the sprawling, lonely Texas prairie sets the standard for films about wide open spaces and its muted, withdrawn presentation of a very complex relationship is engrossing and stylish without being pretentious. With Days of Heaven, Malick continues to make a believer out of me and continues to be one of my absolute favourite directors of all time.

9.7/10

Trailer:

It’s almost impossible to imagine anyone in North American who hasn’t at least heard of James Cameron’s Avatar. The 2009 science fiction epic is everywhere and is racking up accolades and excitement from all sorts of different types of people. It’s also winning awards, including the Golden Globe for Best Motion Picture – Drama and Best Director. Avatar is expected to scoop the Oscar for Best Picture, too.

Cameron started development for Avatar in 1994, but he held off on making it because the technology was not available for him to make it how he wanted. Fast-forward almost ten years later and Avatar started to take shape thanks to Cameron’s development of the Fusion Camera System in stereoscopic 3-D. The Fusion was actually used by director Robert Rodriguez to film a pair of family films.

Now the thing you’ve got to know about James Cameron is that he’s a “big vision” sort of filmmaker. He loves to tell broad, large-scale stories on the screen. Avatar is a story of epic proportions and it swells and heaves in large part due to Cameron’s presentation. The tale is brought to life using Cameron’s use of stereoscopic filmmaking techniques and, of course, the 3-D. But beneath all the technological work, there’s still a story to be told.

So Avatar is set in the year 2154 and centres on a planet called Pandora. People from Earth are hoping to colonize Pandora because of the existence of a substance that can bring a lot of energy. The substance is called, I kid you not, “unobtanium.” Staggering. Anyways, we’re introduced to a basic group of humans that are working for a mining company. The mining company has dispatched a series of mercenaries, of course.

Pandora is inhabited by Na’vi, a relatively tall species of blue people that resemble a combination between elves and Native Americans. They live in harmony with nature, but they’re standing in the way of all the unobtanium and the mining company needs the mercenaries to bust in there and get the Na’vi out of the way. To do this, they’ve dispatched some scientists who’ve come up with a way to infiltrate the Na’vi using things called “avatars.” Avatars are basically Na’vi forms with humans inside.

Cameron’s picture zeroes in on all of this and tries to create personal connections, of course. In order to make said personal connections, he’s going to need actors and that’s where Sam Worthington comes in. He gets to play the film’s protagonist Jake Sully. He’s a paraplegic former Marine and he’s supposed to get the inside scoop on the Na’vi, but there are a few complications and he finds himself falling in love with their love of nature and Pandora.

If the basic story outline sounds familiar, it’s because it’s reminiscent of just about every “going native” storyline in the history of film. As though to stress the point that things aren’t exactly entirely original, Cameron’s Na’vi are essentially blue Native Americans. They worship in similar ways, they communicate with animals in similar ways, and they have similar mythologized aspects. They give off an aura of mystery and majesty, sure, but don’t worry: the humans are still smarter.

For all their communion with Pandora’s environment, the Na’vi don’t wind up being all that bright and it isn’t until the human Jake Sully shows up as a Na’vi and gets into the tribe that they start being able to learn valuable lessons like fighting for what’s theirs and so forth. Prior to his arrival, the Na’vi sort of demonstrate a primitive sort of energy and remain objects designed to help elevate the hero.

Cameron does treat Pandora with a certain amount of respect and intrigue and there’s a lot of beautiful stuff to see, but I couldn’t help but struggle with the idea of the natural world being portrayed in a way that was so damn synthetic. I appreciated his use of colour, but I wasn’t overly enamoured with the animals or the plantlife. It all seemed pretty basic to me and the appearance of the Na’vi as merely blue and tall humanoids with pointy ears and glitter seemed a cop-out.

At the end of the day, though, people are going to worship this movie. Have I seen better expressions of honouring the planet and the natural world? Absolutely. Any Hayao Miyazaki film offers that. But Avatar is visually stunning and Cameron’s achievement should be seen. That it lacks a single original line of dialogue counts against it, too, but these sorts of big budget blockbusters are rarely meant to be examined this closely. In fact, I’ve probably already said too much. Sorry.

6.2/10

Trailer:

A lot of the criticism over American Teen lies with the notion that some of what occurs in the documentary appears staged. Watching the Nannette Burstein film left me unconvinced of those critiques, however, as the 2008 doc gets so close to its subjects as to inherit some of their flair for the dramatic.

Indeed, American Teen gets right inside the lives of a group of teens from Indiana. The picture tucks in at Warsaw Community High School in an affluent town, remaining there for the course of one school year for a class of seniors eager to get on with their lives. Burstein’s capturing of this crucial time is compelling, as the doc is able to chart the drama and comedy of high school life with all the tricks and flash today’s teens exhibit.

We’re introduced to the teens and they come across, at first, like stereotypes. Hannah is the artist, Colin is the jock, Jake is the nerd, Megan is the popular girl, and Mitch is the apparent heartthrob. As the documentary expands, however, we learn that there’s more to these people than we first thought. Each one struggles with the crushing weight of expectations, heartache, insecurity and loneliness to a certain degree.

It may seem to some that American Teen looks a bit too polished, but I believe this is a real reflection of the subject. These teens, complete in their awareness of being filmed, would most assuredly behave accordingly. Some may be bolder than normal and may show a bizarre sense of pride during an act of vandalism, for instance, while others may be more apt to share apparent heartache with a watching camera lens.

In that respect, American Teen is incredibly real. As Burstein’s camera explores the spreading of a nude photo via email and cell phone, for instance, we see reactions and intentions out in the open. We see the players without shame, as they are in these moments, and exposing their true intentions as plays for popularity and attention. Why else would a seemingly normal high school girl behave with cruelty?

This is a film that gets it right. High schoolers do often match up with stereotypes, they do match up with their cliques, and they do behave in absurd, laughable, emotional ways. Burstein’s camera, like any other filmmaker’s camera attempting to draw out the reality of a teen, runs up against the usual trappings of a highly volatile subject. There is bound to be dishonesty and showmanship and, to this documentary’s credit, all is laid out there for the viewer.

For a lot of the audience, American Teen will not be the high school experience they remember. The text messaging breakups, the interesting relationships and the strong dedication to maintaining popularity despite internal emotional pressures are all symbols of this generation. If nothing else, Burstein’s doc shows us just how much damn pressure these kids are under to succeed and to excel.

American Teen made me grateful that I was a Canadian teen. The pressures of academia will always be difficult to bear, as will the parental expectations, but it just seems to me that the Canadian culture is less harsh and less competitive when it comes to the notion of success in young people. I was allowed to grow and decide on school when I felt ready, thankfully.

So Burstein’s film is a bold reflection of teen life in modern, affluent America. It is the entire shebang of teen life, in fact, warts and all. There are flaws to this picture, naturally, and those flaws exist because there are flaws to the human experience and because there are flaws in being a teen. With that in mind, American Teen may be one of the purest pictures on the subject of teenagers I’ve seen in a long time.

8.8/10

Trailer:

A folk music reunion tour is the subject of Christopher Guest’s 2003 mockumentary A Mighty Wind. The usual suspects are along for the ride, of course, with Eugene Levy, Catherine O’Hara, Bob Balaban, Harry Shearer, Fred Willard, Paul Dooley, Ed Begley Jr., Jennifer Coolidge, Michael McKean, and others in starring roles.

A Mighty Wind lives and dies by its subject, however, and in that respect it threatens to be an inaccessible comedy for many. There’s also a thread of sincerity here, as Guest makes his picture more about a love for folk music and the reunion concert that forms its climax and less about the pursuit of comedy. The results are uneven and largely uninteresting.

That’s not to say that there isn’t some truly funny stuff here, of course, but that comes as the result of vignettes and characters and not as the result of a cohesive narrative that drives the action. We follow three different folk groups as they head towards a reunion show organized by the son (Balaban) of an influential folk music producer. The various groups all have different misgivings and expectations, so it’s interesting to some degree to see what could happen.

At the end of it all, things are less than fulfilling. We are given a concert, in essence, that features the Folksmen (Shearer, Guest and McKean), the New Main Street Singers, and Mickey (O’Hara) and Mitch (Levy). The songs take on a life of their own and exist beyond the film, which is a both a hindrance and a delight.

A Mighty Wind is just too filled with fondness to invoke that much comedy. The characters are actually rather bland as a result and we’re made to get by on their musical prowess. Any interesting qualities, such as the troubled relationship between Mitch and Mickey, are almost treated in a soapish way and this damages Guest’s comic sense.

Great comedy just can’t be this, well, respectful. A Mighty Wind imposes sweetness on the audience, forcing the enjoyment of the picture to be extracted from the songs and the clapping and the hootin’ hoopla of the thing. The problem with this approach is that we’re almost left being too fond of the characters to be interested in where they wind up. The set up exudes this sort of “what could happen?” style energy, but Guest goes nowhere with it and leaves us in the lurch.

Unfortunately, A Mighty Wind is a disappointment. It lacks the snap of Guest’s This is Spinal Tap and the eviscerating glee of Best in Show. The characters never exceed the boundaries of their interests and are left as mere folk performers, producing a sort of one-dimensional effect that makes them vehicles for the enjoyable songs they play at the reunion show.

This film may offer good entertainment to those seeking out some vintage folk fun from a few “fake” folk groups, but it doesn’t make the cut in terms of providing great comedy. It’s too bad, too, as I really did enjoy the recent For Your Consideration.

3.7/10

Trailer:

The main reason Transamerica succeeds as a motion picture is that it never tries to be an issue movie. While Duncan Tucker’s 2005 film does deal with a transsexual lead character and a whole whack of sexual issues, it isn’t a movie about those issues and that helps keep it strong. Other films would have been about the components, of course, but Tucker allows his characters to exist as human beings and not placards for social issues.

The theme of self-discovery is present for all characters in the picture, which makes Transamerica a surprisingly universal experience. It is a movie about finding true purpose and about changing expectations in light of, shall we say, new evidence. The characters adapt and alter their perceptions throughout the movie’s 103 minutes, but things never feel unnatural or forced. Tucker’s Transamerica is a completely organic experience.

Felicity Huffman stars as Bree Osborne, a transsexual who is one week away from sex reassignment surgery. Bree has a job at a Mexican restaurant and leads a normal life while approaching the surgery with anticipation and excitement. Anxious to start her new life as a woman, Bree sees a therapist to aid with her adjustment period.

One day Bree receives a phone call from Toby Wilkins (Kevin Zegers), a 17-year-old delinquent who turns out to be her son. Of course, Toby is seeking his father Stanley, but Stanley is now Bree. This presents a number of complications and Bree heads to NYC to face up to her past on the “advice” of her therapist. This begins a complicated journey to help Toby and Bree both find their sense of purpose and belonging in life. Along the way, Bree faces her parents and Toby learns more about his father.

Huffman is simply astounding in this role. It isn’t an easy one, that’s for sure, and she handles the part with poise. Huffman never comes across as though she’s putting on an act and the piece never feels gimmicky. This is due to some strong writing by Tucker and William H. Macy, but her performance is what really elevates this material and makes things pop.

The character she weaves is truly amazing. Bree is an uncomplicated person, but she has an interesting way about her that proves captivating. She is an endless fount of knowledge, constantly bringing up seemingly trivial facts about the world and dotting her language with little French phrases. Despite working in a rather dead-end job, Bree is happy and seems rather impressed with her place in life. There is no shame. She even spends a lot of time correcting poor Toby’s grammar.

Toby presents a series of complications beyond what Bree is used to, of course. At first he is simply annoying her by putting his feet up on the dash of the car, but then he proceeds to take drugs and engage in prostitution and things become more complex. It falls on Bree to raise her son, certainly, but she soon becomes aware of just how intricate a job it is.

The beauty in Transamerica is that it is a movie about relationships and discovery. It is also a movie about a father and son and about how change, even the most seemingly drastic change, can lead to new understandings and new roles. Backed by powerful performances and a brilliant script that never allows this film to roll off the hill into Lifetime territory, Transamerica is a wonderful movie.

8.6/10

Trailer:

Werner Herzog considers F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu to be one of the finest films in German history, so his 1979 remake of it reflects the German director’s passion and pride in the process of filmmaking. More than that, however, it reflects the mood and texture of vampirism in bleak terms. It describes without telling and moves without taking a step, allowing the brilliant Klaus Kinski to draw out the vampire organically while Herzog handles the rest.

At the core of Herzog’s version of the vampire legend is a sense of pity for the Count. All good vampire stories, whether in film or in books, need a certain sense of pity and regret. This isn’t a sort of lifestyle to aspire to, nor is it a condition to envy. The lust for blood, at least in the reliable tales, is a metaphor for a desire for life and for love. Herzog takes that element and presses it deep within the landscape of our story, thus transforming Count Dracula into a character to feel a certain sense of shame for.

Nosferatu the Vampyre opens with the introduction of Bruno Ganz as Jonathan Harker. He is married to the beautiful Lucy (Isabelle Adjani) and they live in Wismar. Lucy’s been having weird dreams lately and becomes very uncomfortable when her husband announces that he’s taking a trip to Transylvania. Jonathan is to visit an eccentric nobleman named Count Dracula (Kinski) and is to help him complete a lucrative deal on his house that will have the Count moving to Wismar.

Along the way to visit the Count, Harker encounters the locals and they tell him various stories about the evil that lies in the area. He brushes it off, thinking nothing of it and wanting to close the deal so that he can move his dear Lucy into a more suitable home. Upon meeting the Count, however, Harker is convinced he should have listened to the locals. The Count is drawn to Lucy through an image and makes his way to Wismar to wreak all sorts of havoc.

Ganz, who I have come to know and love as the man bold enough to play Hitler in Downfall, is brilliantly understated at Jonathan Harker. He truly knows nothing of the evils that lie ahead and maintains a focus on Lucy and the idea of living with her. Adjani, too, draws the same elements of the purity of love into her character. She exists only for her husband, she tells the Count at a later encounter, and would die before having to be in another’s arms.

With all of this on her plate, Adjani’s Lucy is the legitimate protagonist of the story. Her “pure heart” holds the key to it all and her love for Jonathan is the element that draws the Count out. Lucy’s ultimate sacrifice reveals her raison d’être profoundly, as she winds up deciding that it is better to sacrifice herself than to sacrifice Jonathan.

Against this purity is Kinski’s Dracula, a character inflamed with covetousness towards this purity. He wants what Lucy has; he wants what Jonathan has. The blood serves as a symbol for the essential fluidity of existence, something that has left Dracula long ago. In place of life’s vibrant kiss are long fingernails and decrepit teeth. Herzog’s vision of a vampire lacks strong incisors, just as Murnau’s did. In place of the strong, assertive fangs of modern vamps lie two pathetic-looking tusks.

Nosferatu the Vampyre is also largely concerned with Herzog’s style. This is a film that uses atmosphere, sound and music extremely well. Much like Malick would do later, Herzog allows scenes of nature to unfurl in their own stillness. He invokes small, slow shots to draw us into the world of the vampire and into Transylvania, making the tale richer by taking his time developing a sense of place and texture.

Herzog’s picture does more for the vampire movie than most other similar films. It establishes a life of pain and suffering for the creatures, robbing them of the glamour and glitz of modern Hollywood and placing them in a painful, jealous existence. They want what we, as humans, have. They want life and love.

NOTE: Herzog actually shot two versions of this film, one in German and one in English. I urge you to seek out the German version and use the subtitles.

10/10

Trailer (English version):

There’s no questioning the influence John Ford’s The Searchers has had on modern movies. Named as the AFI’s “Greatest Western of All Time,” this film has influenced everyone from David Lean to Buddy Holly. Its amazing cinematography, shot beautifully in Arizona and Utah by Winton C. Hoch, set the model for broad-scope epic pictures and its dark plot still causes debate and discussion to this very day.

Racism and genocide are common themes that come up in most discussions of The Searchers. There are, indeed, many unfortunate and uncomfortable situations in this motion picture that relate to attitudes towards Native Americans and to cultural differences. Ford’s hero is openly racist and attempts to show his  motivations as a result of some sort of atrocities committed. While The Searchers certainly is a tale of revenge, its coating of racism is awkward when examined today.

John Wayne stars as Ethan Edwards, the hero of the story. He returns from the American Civil War, having fought for the Confederacy, and visits his brother in northern Texas. Ethan has been absent for the past three years and it is implied that some sort of wrongdoing or otherwise untoward activity has kept him away from it all. After he arrives, a bunch of cattle are stolen and, in the pursuit, Ethan’s brother’s family is massacred by Comanche. His young niece and her sister are kidnapped by the tribe.

This leads Edwards on a quest to find the Comanche and his niece. He is joined by a group of Texas Rangers, but the going is rough as Ethan doesn’t particularly get along with them. He elects to cover more ground with his adoptive nephew (Jeffrey Hunter) and this leads to a host of situations and complications.

Ford’s film is largely a tale of the all-consuming power of revenge, but it is also meant as a tale of heroism. Wayne’s Ethan heads to some pretty dark places in his anger over the killings and over the abduction. He wears his disdain for the Comanche on his sleeve with no apologies, leading to unfortunate comments about miscegenation and race issues. Ethan states, at one point, that he’d rather kill his niece than have her living with the Comanche.

This fear of racial mixing and of the Native American culture on a whole is exemplified throughout The Searchers, making it a rather difficult film to watch today. Ford never really offers an explanation for the Comanche attack on the Texas homestead and even creates the impression that the whole thing was premeditated and rather coordinated. There’s also the grotesque treatment of a Comanche wife as Ethan’s nephew kicks her down a hill. The sad part is that the sequence is played up for laughs and the character of Look (Beulah Archuletta) is nothing more than comic relief.

On the other hand, it does seem that Ford is at least attempting to explain this attitude. He does offer a vision of Wayne’s character as a bit of a relic of a dying age. He is, towards the end of the picture, left alone with his hate and misguided worldview. And his final decision about the nature of his niece possibly reflects a greater tolerance. Then there’s the fact that no other character in the picture actually gets the Comanche culture like Ethan does.

So Ford’s movie is, at best, a conflicted meditation on racism and on revenge. He manages to push scenes of perverse racism, like the one where Ethan glowers threateningly at a group of girls recovering from captivity and states that they aren’t “white” anymore, into the foreground while simultaneously making various moves in the other direction.

It is also a touch unbalanced. The subplot involving Ethan’s nephew and a love interest is tedious and useless and the exploration of the Comanche tribe that killed Ethan’s brother’s family is nonexistent. Still, Ford’s direction is almost impeccable and The Searchers can be a bit of a lush, crazy mess with all of these rather obvious flaws. It’s an imperfect, loud, boisterous western picture that attempts to make rather conflicted points. Important as it is in terms of the art of film, I struggle to see this as a classic movie. Perhaps one day…

7.4/10

Trailer:

Just about everything to do with Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call, New Orleans is bizarre. Werner Herzog’s film is a druggy, odd bit of work, but it is also deeply fascinating and electrifying. There is, of course, the bit about Herzog’s movie being a “remake” of Abel Ferrara’s 1992 Bad Lieutenant, but it is not. It is a movie that only draws “superficially,” to borrow superficially from Wikipedia, from the Harvey Keitel vehicle.

No, this is an original movie that has a few similarities with Ferrara’s Bad Lieutenant. Basically the only kindred element is the notion that the lieutenant is, well, bad. From there, Herzog’s movie is an original ride all its own. It is also an astonishingly weird bit of work that leans heavily on a strange but brilliant performance by Nicolas Cage and a whole pile of creative visuals and “plot” points.

Cage is Terrence McDonagh, a police sergeant in New Orleans who gets promoted to lieutenant after being a hero during Hurricane Katrina. He ends up hurting his back in his act of heroism, however, and finds himself relying on medication a little too much. McDonagh heads down a dangerous road of addiction, causing him to become involved with the seedy side of New Orleans.

McDonagh uses cop busts to score drugs like coke and heroin, relying on his hooker girlfriend (Eva Mendes) to help him set up johns to loot them of their drug property. He’s also sort of trying to solve a crime, but gets so distracted by sports gambling that he lets a key witness fly the coop. There’s also a bit of hanging around with drug-dealing gangsters, one of whom may actually be the lead suspect in the crime McDonagh is trying to solve.

Herzog’s movie isn’t so much about directional plot or discernable goals for his characters. It is, instead, about mood and Cage’s over-the-top lieutenant. Cage and Herzog have pieced together a character that becomes unhinged throughout the process of Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call, New Orleans. McDonagh is a man who relies on drugs to get through each and every single second of his job, so any conception of reality becomes increasingly skewed as we look through his eyes.

Herzog chooses an interesting route here. Other directors might have leaned more on some wild special effects or some tricky camera angles, but Herzog gives the movie a sort of buzzed, druggy feel. And Cage plays right along, having his character walk in such a way as to show the mood and choosing a host of different voice textures in trying to both mask and promote his character’s twisted truth.

Cage’s character is certainly difficult to get behind. He’s a creepy in just about every sense of the word, taking advantage of people and the deserted city of New Orleans to feed his cruel habits. Interestingly, Cage’s wild energy makes him an almost likeable person. We don’t find ourselves rooting for him, mind you, but we do find ourselves tolerating his actions. Herzog and Cage give us actions on-screen that are reprehensible, but the process seems more comic than frightening.

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call, New Orleans takes these elements and mashes them together under the roof of a film noir, making the experience all the stranger. Those looking for stability in their narrative would be best advised to head elsewhere, as Herzog isn’t playing by the rules and he’s proud of that fact with every shot and every scene. This is a jazzy, hazy motion picture that toys with convention almost pompously. It is a surreal film experience and yet it remains oddly accessible.

And then there are those fucking iguanas.

9.5/10

Trailer:

With Jason Reitman’s Up in the Air, George Clooney plays a similar character to Robert Redford’s character in This Property is Condemned. Both characters have unpopular, undesirable jobs that create enemies out of ordinary working people. And both characters, especially in today’s economic climate, would be among the most hated people walking the face of the earth.

Yet Reitman’s film doesn’t dwell on what Clooney’s character does. Instead, this is a movie about who Clooney’s character is and about why Clooney’s character is and about how Clooney’s character is. It is as bold and simple a character study I’ve seen all year and is one of my favourite motion pictures of 2009 for a number of reasons.

Clooney stars as Ryan Bingham. He’s a man who makes his living travelling around to various places and firing people. Bingham conducts employee layoffs for bosses who are too cowardly to do it for themselves; he is a corporate downsizer. Amazingly enough, he also loves his job because it enables him to have the sort of insulated lifestyle he’s chosen for himself. It allows him to stay up in the air, to keep his feet off of any particular piece of ground for too long. It allows him to have his freedom.

Like everything in life, there are changes. Bingham soon finds his own lifestyle threatened by new technology that will make it “easier” to fire people. He opposes this cold way of doing things, of course, because he understands the humanity in what he does. Still, his boss (Jason Bateman) requires this new form of firing people and sends him out on the road with an ambitious young coworker (Anna Kendrick) to flesh things out.

Another part of Up in the Air concerns a relationship Ryan develops with another frequent flyer named Alex (Vera Farmiga). They begin a relationship that is mostly physical and mostly designed as a cure for the loneliness of life on the road. They have no want to commit to anything real, however, and it isn’t until Ryan second guesses his loneliness that things look to be in peril.

Reitman brilliantly uses these two women to parallel the character of Ryan Bingham. The young coworker, Natalie, is a Ryan from the past. She swells with ambition and desires, above all else, to be professional. She makes choices with her heart until it is ripped out via text message. Then she changes. Alex is a modern version of Ryan. She is distant and probably hiding something. And she may or may not be as lonely as he is.

One of the things Reitman hammers down in each of his movies is the way the corporation’s cold steel skeleton can infect our society. Ryan is a part of a bitter industry and he is a bitter man for it, but even he recognizes the coldness and impersonal nature of the direction it is heading. His resistance gives him humanity and we are able to care about him and interact with him.

The performances are terrific. Bingham is a role naturally written for a guy like Clooney. He uses his charm and his unflappable nature elegantly, passing his character over to us with truth and integrity despite the sullenness of his place in life and the frostiness of his occupation. On top of that, Clooney infuses Bingham with a sense of proud loneliness. We never get the sense that he is certainly happy, but we do get the sense that he’s doing his best.

Up in the Air is a terrific motion picture. It is a modern document, showcasing our world as it is now with our lives confined to cards and points. Ryan Bingham is Cary Grant in our world, dressed in impeccable suits and showing charm whether he wants to or not. Under it all, though, this is one lonely Cary Grant. We allow him that, too, because he smiles at us just long enough to put us off the scent.

9.6/10

Trailer:

Peter Sellers stars in The Pink Panther Strikes Again, the fifth film in the Pink Panther series. Directed by Blake Edwards, this movie picks up where The Return of the Pink Panther left off and maintains the slapstick tradition of the series thanks to the relentless zaniness fans have come to expect. This film was rushed to production thanks to the success of its predecessor and is the only movie in the series that directly follows the events of its earlier film.

Edwards never got along with Sellers and this put a strain on the picture. Sellers wasn’t in very good shape at the time of the shoot, but it never really shows on-screen to the casual observer. He’s up to his usual tricks and handles most of the slapstick rather well, except in some relatively obvious sequences in which the stunt double handles the action.

Sellers is Inspector Jacques Clouseau. He’s just been named the Chief Inspector and the former Chief Inspector, Charles Dreyfus (Herbert Lom), couldn’t be angrier about the fact. Dreyfus blames Clouseau for everything that has happened to him and, once he escapes an insane asylum, he develops a plot to kill Clouseau at any cost and complication. This requires Dreyfus to assemble a crew of the world’s most dastardly villains and even includes a rather weird disappearing ray that he threatens to use on a city.

The disappearing ray gets the attention of the world after Dreyfus cuts a tape threatening to make the United Nations building vanish into thin air. This calls the world’s leaders into action, but not before Dreyfus can make good on his threat and make another larger one. This causes many countries to send assassins after Clouseau to please Dreyfus’ demands and forces the bumbling detective to run for his life.

Sellers will probably always be remembered as Clouseau. He embodies the role from top to bottom and, while he may have been better in other pictures, it’s hard to imagine Clouseau played by anybody else. The Pink Panther Strikes Again carries on this tradition and slides a bunch of other terrific bits and pieces into the mix. Lom is good as the villain, transforming his long-suffering Chief Inspector into his character’s unavoidable conclusion.

For Edwards, the Pink Panther films resembled a bit of a dead horse after the filming of The Pink Panther Strikes Again. This one is probably the last of the good movies in the series and the later pictures, all still handled by Edwards, were cobbled together cutting room floor shards and used the name of Clouseau to boost another plot. That really makes this one the one to see out of the latter Pink Panther films.

There are a lot of funny ideas here, as you might expect. The design of the team of super villains is good, although Edwards doesn’t explore it as much as he could have and this leads to the standard strain of cardboard bad guys. The use of Lom’s Dreyfus to arrange the mischief is a stroke of good fun, however, and keeps this movie floating above the others. Sellers works well with Lom, too, and the two achieve some really great comic stuff.

Overall, The Pink Panther Strikes Again is hardly earth-shattering entertainment. It’s good fun, but there’s nothing here that is overly memorable or overly extraordinary. It’s neat and somewhat tragic to see Sellers doing this shtick so close to his 1980 death, giving this movie more meaning than it perhaps deserves, and there are some big meaty laughs to be had. For this sort of entertainment, I suppose that’s more than enough.

6.0/10

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