A Story of Friendship and Hope: Movie Review of The Intouchables

The Intouchables, a French drama comedy is one of the only films that can make a person cry throughout and still leave the theatre with a smile on their face.

There have been many different reviews on this film, many of them criticizing the French on how they portray race.  Before I continue my review, I have to say that I recognize that cultures other than our own have different viewpoints.  There was never a moment in the film where I felt uncomfortable with the jokes, and going by the laughter in my theatre, I do not think I was the only one.  I allowed myself to enter the French point of view, and I found myself smiling the whole time.  If anyone were to take offense to this movie, I have not heard a complaint yet from other nonprofessional viewers.

The television comedian, Omar Sy plays Driss, an ex-con who is looking to apply to every job he can in order to claim his unemployment benefit from the government.  Thus, he applies to be Phillipe's caretaker, a rich quadriplegic who was injured in a paragliding accident.  The incredible Francois Cluzet plays Phillipe, and right away, we are on his side.  He has no self-pity or anger on account of his accident, and his positive attitude gets tested right as Driss steps into his home.

However, Phillipe, who is used to interviewing straight-edged, degree-laden medical students, is intrigued by Driss' sardonic and cocky demeanor, and hires him to be his full-time caretaker.

Driss is asked to move into Phillipe's mansion, and by the way he plays with and gawks at all the elaborate decorations, we know that Driss is not used to this kind of scene.  Omar Sy is a charming actor, and even though Driss is a thief and a self-seeker, we come to root for his character as well.

Phillipe, before Driss' arrival, is cold with his staff and ashamed of his disability.  He is still grieving over the death of his wife and feels constrained over his dependency on other people.  However, when Driss enters the picture, Phillipe begins to take pleasure in the smaller things.  He enjoys Driss' selfishness and ungratefulness because it allows no time for pity.              

Quickly, yet believably, Driss and Phillipe become great friends.  Their relationship is tested by other people and small conflicts, and at times, the audience may feel a comment from Driss has gone too far, but Phillipe smiles and lets out his endearing chuckle, and all is well.  Although there are some heartwrenching moments, the film has an upbeat feel to it.  It never crosses into the "depressing" mode because Phillipe, who has lived through horror, manages to appreciate the little things in life.

Every individual story within the film has a beginning, a middle, and an end.  Some films have side stories that are never really tied up by the end.  The Intouchables, however, manages to give a happy ending to all supporting actors which adds to the enduring bubbly feeling the film gives its audiences.  Every character is initially suspicious of Driss, but by the end, everyone is won over by his charisma and carefree attitude.  Driss provides adventures and hope for Phillipe, and Phillipe provides a home and friendship to Driss.  The two end up saving each other, without either of them realizing it.

Overall, The Intouchables was one of the best movies I have seen in a while.  And when I say this, I do not mean just as a foreign film.  The entire mood of the film is contagious, and there is a unique allure to the characters that I have not seen for some time.  There are parts that take your breath away, either by the beautiful French scenery or the realness of Phillipe and Driss' conversations.  There are moments where your eyes water, either with emotion or with laughter.  And even with the negative talk on racism that has been mentioned in many critiques of this film, The Intouchables and every actor from the film overcomes these offenses with an appealing and easygoing tone.         

  

Closed-Off Intimacy: Movie Review of Shame

I recently watched Steve McQueen's 2011 film, Shame, expecting a gritty, over-sensual, too-real story, and I got just that.  However, it was strikingly intense and gripping, and the performances of the two main actors were incredibly impressive.

The mystery behind Brandon (played by Michael Fassbender) is what made this movie and its theme so intriguing.  We never truly learn anything substantial about him.  All we come to know is that he has a high-paying job, he was born in Ireland but grew up in New Jersey, and he has a little sister named, Sissy.

Right off the bat, we as the viewers are sucked into the intimacy of the film.  Brandon, a handsome successful employee of a job that we precisely never learn about, lies naked in his bed.  His face is expressionless, and he lives in a metallic block of an apartment, looking out over New York City.  From here, and what I find to be the most impressive scene of the movie, the film continues with Brandon on the subway, on what we can assume to be his daily commute. He catches the eye of an attractive red-headed woman.  As the sequence continues where the two appear to be having "eye sex", we are provided with flashbacks to the night before where Brandon fools around with a call girl.  The scene finishes in present time with Brandon following the red-head off the train, and he loses her in the crowd.  Dejected, he walks away and gets back onto the train.  We are instantly pulled into the daily rituals of a sex addict.

Carey Mulligan's performance as Sissy was spectacular.  She is actually vulnerable to what people do and say to her; the complete opposite of Brandon.  She is spirited and slightly immature, crying over the phone to her ex-boyfriend the first night she stays with Brandon.  She enters Brandon's life, leading to conflicts among them and with Brandon's addiction.  However, the two have some sort of a bond, shown through their mutual comfort at being naked in front of the other.  This bond is shown in a much more heart-warming scene where Sissy performs at a night club Brandon and his boss are drinking at.  She sings "New York, New York," and the camera gives us two shots throughout the scene: one a close-up on Sissy, looking out shyly at the audience as she sings; the other on Brandon, trying his very best not to cry.  This is the first time we see some sort of emotion out of Brandon, and we become aware just how important Sissy is to him.

Brandon's life takes a downhill plunge with Sissy's appearance.  His love for her goes unsaid, and the tension between the two causes him and his sexual urges to reach a new peak.  As she sleeps with his married boss, Brandon chooses to go on a midnight run through downtown New York, a beautiful single long take of the city that never sleeps.  He chooses to run on a stomach full of cocktails rather than listen to the quiet moans of his little sister; not because hearing it disgusts him but because he is jealous of the sex going on around him that he cannot be a part of.

One other significant relationship Brandon has in the film is with his co-worker, Marianne.  We experience their very first date, which seems to go generally well.  Again, we are closed-off from Brandon, which may add to his attractiveness from Marianne's perspective.  He has no wine preference, no food preference, and says very little about himself.  He does not even give an explanation for being late to the date.  However, we learn to like Marianne, who has a nice sense of humor, who is independent, and who is endearingly nervous.  Nevertheless, the relationship ends as the title of the film would suggest in a surprising scene.  And from there, Brandon's night takes a turn for the worst.

The end of the movie gives us a sequence of disturbing events.  Some of them include Brandon fighting with Sissy; purposefully hitting on a jealous boyfriend's girl, leading to a punch in the face; sexual relations at a gay club; and then a long scene of a three-way between Brandon and two random call girls.  Even after a major accident (I don't want to give anything away) near the end of the film, Brandon sees no change.  The movie goes full circle when the end scene has Brandon on the train, and he spots the red-headed girl from the first scene.  And again, the two undress each other with their eyes.  The rituals begin again.  Brandon is continuing his cycle of shame.

Fassbender was great as Brandon and really played the part of a sex addict courageously and realistically.  Mulligan, as the supporting actress, did her part well and gave us a sense of dependence throughout that Brandon could never learn to comprehend, even while striving to protect his little sister from the world that she feared so much.  The two were fantastic together, and after this movie, it is clear to me how versatile these two actors are.

Shame is a thought-provoking film and touches on subjects that others may be hesitant on touching on.  The images onscreen are ones that cannot go unseen, so while some may be turned off by that fact, others may be intrigued.  I wholly recommend seeing the film because the entire set-up, editing, and order of events bring us into the daily life of this closed-off man, which allows us to be the most intimate people in his schedule.  It is a very compelling film, and even if people are uninterested in the theme, it is worth it just to see Fassbender's and Mulligan's performances.     

      

Combining Sexy and Disturbing in All the Right Ways: Movie Review of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (American Version)

David Fincher has done it again!

No matter what anyone says, it is clear that Fincher is a talented and fantastic director.  With this new edition of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, he has not only brought justice to the original book, he has also provided a fresh and sleek version off of the Swedish film.  The movie is sexy, daring, disturbing, grungy, and yet, the toughness of it is at just the right caliber.

Daniel Craig, in an impressive performance, plays Mikael Blomkvist, an investigative journalist of Stockholm who is asked to solve a years-old mystery.  The man who calls him in is Henrik Vanger, who is still struggling to uncover what happened to his missing niece.  Blomkvist accepts the case hoping to bring a positive image to his name, only to uncover trails leading to horrific serial killings on a mysterious island full of anti-Semites.  Once the story takes off, Lisbeth Salander (played by Rooney Mara), becomes Blomkvist's assistant, and that is what truly triggers the movie to get to the brilliant state that it achieves.    

Everything about the movie, from the beginning credits with haunting versions of the two main characters in black liquid selves, to the ear-crunching score, and to the last ending scene, was terrific.  After seeing most of the Best Picture nominees for this year, I am honestly shocked The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was not included in the race.  Fincher does have his style, which may rub some people the wrong way, but his directing skills in this were precise and necessarily so.  It takes some time to set up the central story, in both this and the Swedish version, but once we get there, Fincher recreates a compelling version of this bestselling story.

That being said, the best part of this film was the title woman, Rooney Mara.  The film she made her debut in was Fincher's The Social Network, as Mark Zuckerberg's bitter ex-girlfriend.  In that, and in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, she shines.  And I'm not just talking about her gelled hair.  She provides a reason as to why the novel and the films are named after Lisbeth.  She is a black widow, absolutely dangerous and sexy in the strangest way.  The difference between Rooney Mara and Noomi Rapace, who plays Lisbeth in the Swedish films, is subtle, but one could sense it if they thought it through hard enough.  Mara seemed to take the character from a more confident perspective, abrasive and explicit, whereas Rapace was more reclusive and mysterious.  Rooney Mara was physically tough, from the top of her spiky black mohawk all the way down to her chained-up combat boots.  Rapace seemed to hide behind her hair more, like an emo kid in middle school.

Emotionally, Rooney Mara as Lisbeth was demanding, forcing the viewers to feel her pent-up rage from being raped and beaten by men.  This is what made her connection to Blomkvist make sense, as they both fought to destroy a misogynistic killer.  There was something bittersweet about their relationship.  It couldn't be called a normal relationship in any way, and Lisbeth's feelings for Mikael couldn't be called love.  However, Lisbeth's hate-filled self seems to melt slightly when she gives us the most revealing information about herself after making breakfast for Mikael: "I like working with you."  And Mikael says it right back, without even thinking about it.  And that's when we realize it as well: we love them working together, and we want to see more of it.

In all honestly, Mara is the driving force of the film, but even without her, the story was thrilling and exciting to watch unfold.  Audiences may find the revealing of the killer very normal, and in truth, it was.  However, that was not a hindrance.  The missing niece becomes just a scene of a three-act play, and it was a play that was simple to stay with the entire time.  For seeing the Swedish version and knowing the twist, I still found myself clenching my teeth near the end, waiting for Lisbeth to work her magic in ways the audience came to believe she was capable of.  The only part of the movie that was slightly distracting was the Nazism aspect, and Fincher seemed to struggle with presenting this grim standpoint in a more fluid way.  He had no problem with putting more difficult themes in, such as rape and murder, so that was a notable accomplishment.

With Mara's Oscar-worthy performance and the icy, European setting that combined extraordinarily well with the disturbing storyline, Fincher's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, was on fire, ignited with a fantastic cast and a genuinely horrifying mystery.                      

The Purest of Films: Movie Review of The Artist

The black and white, silent film, The Artist, renews the purity of the silent age of Hollywood during the 1920s in a stylish and romantic way.  Each scene in this film was full of subtle passion and had a precise way of sticking with the beloved movie themes that were present in old Hollywood.  Although the film was not completely silent throughout, I felt transported back into when the narrative took place: 1927.  And when a movie can do that for me, I am instantly hooked.  In fact, I was hooked not even ten minutes in.

Everything about The Artist, to put it simply, was art: the humor was light and classic, as was the refined comedy back in the day; and the love story is simple, yet full of undeniable ardor.  The chemistry between the two main characters was the most realistic I have seen in a while.  And though it was a love that grew from attraction at first sight, the affection and sense of protection they felt for one another was what made their love seem so real.  Even though I never heard them say one word about their feelings, both characters looked at each other in a way that reassured me that no words were needed.

The story seems simple on paper: George Valentin, played by Jean Dujardin, a silent movie star tries to avoid fading into the background as silent films begin to be replaced with the arrival of "talkies."  He helps a dancer, Peppy Miller, played by Berenice Bejo, become a star.  The twist: she hits the big time when she becomes an established star of talking films.  What starts out as a flirtation turns into an impossible love once Peppy's face takes over Hollywood and George's begins to be forgotten.  Over the course of a few years, the story follows both characters separately.  George begins to go into a downward spiral as Peppy does the opposite.  Although the two are rarely together throughout the film, Peppy cannot seem to forget how she was nothing before she met George.  She also cannot forget how she felt when they were together.  For a movie with no sex scenes, not even a kiss, The Artist was elegantly sexy.

Jean Dujardin was handsome, dazzling, and endearing as George Valentin.  I was instantly attracted to his quirks, such as his cartoon-like moustache and his friendship with his dog sidekick that went everywhere George went.  Dujardin remained mysterious and sexy while, at the same time, gave off a likeable air with his willingness to meet and smile at everyone he passed.  He was the epitome of a silent movie star with his charm and alertness.

Berenice Bejo was breathtaking as Peppy Miller.  The second she met George outside one of his movie premieres, all eyes went to her: the characters in The Artist and the viewers of my movie theater.  It was easy to see how she accomplished becoming a movie star from starting as an extra in one of George's films.  What made Peppy so likeable was that her infatuation for George started just like any of his other fans.  But what made her different was that she felt the need to protect him and his movie career when everybody else in the world began to forget about him.  So even as the entire world falls in love with Peppy Miller, she is still, in fact, in love with George.

Every scene of The Artist was perfect.  The French director, Michel Hazanavicius, made the movie shine for any type of audience.  There is a scene between Peppy and George within the first half hour of the movie that made every person in my theater go wonderfully silent.  It was unbelievably romantic, and it marked the beginning of two people falling in love.  The sequence was short, yet captivating, and I had not even realized I was smiling the entire time until the scene changed.

After seeing The Artist, it became clear to me: silence is an art, not an inconvenience.  This movie celebrated seeing and made the ability to watch and comprehend a movie an extravaganza.  The film being silent automatically put us on George's side.  Words came up on the screen to provide us with dialogue.  It is not until the end of the movie when we are able to hear voices.  It is then, and only then, that we realize George is finally content with how things are.  And that makes it okay for us as well.

What a pleasure it was to see this film!  I loved every minute of it, and I am pleasantly surprised to say that I do not have one complaint against it.  The Artist celebrates silence, which is what would be considered outdated in today's Hollywood, but the elegance, the romance, and the theme of this film is what makes it so modern.