Category Archives: English

Has L.A. been as sophisticated and elegant as what we see in Shopgirl?

The answer is an enthusiastic ‘yes’, as we know the film is penned by Steve Martin, whose treatment towards the city can be in the same par with how Woody Allen muses New York in his stories.

Only the challenge this time is that Martin writes a screenplay for the film which is based on his own novella. Certainly a lot of reservations are put throughout the script, and that is what exactly translated to the screen. A certain hold-back attitude seems to keep the film on hold from letting it free, confining each and every character within their own designated frames, unmoveable ones.

Unfortunately this does not work to Jason Schwartzman who is more at ease with over-the-top acts as he did in many of his previous comedies. Even being assigned with the role of Jeremy, the supposedly free-spirited artist, Schwartzman only seen comfortable when he conveys more with his meaningful silence rather than goofy acts that he does uncomfortably here.

Magically, the confinement does not work at all towards Martin himself, and the actress playing the title character, Claire Danes. Once again pulling off his ability to play serious roles, Martin brings suave attitude to his character, Ray, that makes us understand wholeheartedly why we do not mind being swooned over by him at the first glance.
On the other hand, Danes, at her most mature role to date, gives her character, Mirabella, a sense of independence through the actress’ radiant presence, which suspiciously resulted from her own confidence in imbuing the role. Danes breathes Mirabella with fragility and strength that only makes her presence riveting and lovable at the same time.

Alas, such character traits understandably bring hope to the film, making it uplifting and charming.
In a hard way, the mission to become a romantic comedy, with a little dark humor a la Martin, is accomplished.

Perhaps we can take out that particular music genre above, then we are in for a treat of self-discovery journey.

The hype on the music itself is what mars this film, along with other subplot involving an unnecessary love story among the leading characters. There are times when Upi, the director, tries too hard to emphasize the films two main actors’ penchants over the rock music by unconvincingly tortures Herjunot Ali to sing horrendously at wasted scenes of rehearsal, or the prolong dramatic scenes between the two guys and their families.

Yet, as the film slowly builds up its rhythm, we find a solace to an unexpected source: Barry Prima.

After poking his established macho image in Janji Joni, now Barry returns to what I dare say his most prima performance ever graced the big screen. He acts for the first time, and he does not get overwhelmed with, shall I say without trying to spoil, the costume he has to wear throughout his presence. It is interesting how once hard-wooden, static acting of Barry manages to pull some heart-rending scenes that heighten the film to a level beyond pleasure.
Thus, his presence is never a bore, and being funny while dramatic at the same time in imbuing a multi-dimensional character is a rare feat only dreamed of by most actors to this date.

And this is the reality of Realita Cinta dan Rock ‘n Roll.
That we are not fooled by the rock as previously done in mostly lyrical ways in Garasi, nor the much hyped homoerotic subtleties that only makes the film look pale in comparison to Y Tu Mama Tambien or any Pedro Almodovar’s films.

The verdict reality of this film stands on its unpretentiousness fun, and do watch it with a big smile throughout.

The abovementioned title will centre in one piece that makes the film riveting to watch, and that is, Jack Nicholson.

In his youthful menacing act, Nicholson shows his comprehensive understanding that to carry a multi-dimensional character, one’s got to inhabit it from within. Thus, we see his being a tormented guy trapped in his own ego as a highly-educated pianist, yet having to face the reality of being stuck in a mindless job that plunges him deeper to endless soul-searching, only hurting the people he initially cares about. Eventually, we will accept any seemingly evil doings he led himself to, from being abusive to philandering, for they serve to strengthen his misled behaviour.

As you read the premise of the film as stated, you may begin to notice that the film came at the time when rebellion movements were the voices of the films, and the film could not be more attuned to that. Released in 1969, Five Easy Pieces marvels through its steady pace that once you get hold of it, you will be taken further to an achingly real life-like story of how one lives his life that often is bleak, yet unintentionally comic at times.

The idea of Western world as cold and frozen as captured in McCabe & Mrs. Miller may recall the lonely and almost-empty atmosphere of a kingdom in England in The Lion in Winter, since both films brought out contrast looks of their respective background as commonly perceived, yet the strong elements of both genres still convincingly present in the films, either to enhance the genre or to serve as a supporting backdrop.

The former film as discussed here decided to bask itself under the heavy thick of snow, somehow confining the brass loud of Western as usually appeared on the screen, particularly the Western films made in this era, mid-1960s to early-1970s, when Sergio Leone did not hesitate to downgrade the genre with uncomforting violence, at the same time when John Wayne was still around to maintain the dignity of the genre through traditional values of good deeds over evil doings, in a very two-dimensional way at the very best.
The confinement itself then is redeemed by the presence of the two leading characters with their unique traits considered as a breakthrough then. Warren Beatty’s McCabe is an opportunist who often confuses himself with his indecisiveness. He deliberately suppresses himself from his past that made him what he is, yet eventually he surrenders to the past, his own reputation, to a very unfortunate result at the end. It is understandable then that he carries his gloominess throughout the entire film, making each scenes he appeared seemed to be palpable to swallow.

However, the same cannot be said towards Julie Christie, the saving grace of the film. Thanks to her radiant presence shining through her feisty acts, Christie turns her Mrs. Miller as a multi-dimensional character with a mere single look as represented by her generous eyes that speak many things themselves. It is hardly any wonder then that Robert Altman chose to end this film with the camera zooming in Christie’s bewildering eyes, something we seldom see in recent times until another film, Facing Window, does it with the same satisfying effect.

And isn’t that a rarity to see a Western film is almost entirely carried out by a mere presence of the leading lady character? Another breakthrough indeed, from Altman at his playful time in accordance to his famous M.A.S.H..

“I’ll tell you the greatest regret of my life. I let my love go”.

Then my only regret would be of not watching one of the most powerful dramatic ensemble films ever produced and released amidst the chaotic of mindless and plotless films these days.

What glued one to the seat throughout the entire 195-minute duration lies on the parallel lines of many souls living their lives right in front of us, no matter if you see it on a big screen or small ones, which actually serve as a mirror to what we really are. From the first 10 minutes of puzzling images spanning through decades of human (in)decencies as visualized through quick-cut editings, we seem to be asked to trace our roots that lead us to what we are today.

Thus, in one rainy day of Los Angeles where many intricated stories of life begins, Magnolia starts depicting and exploiting ourselves through the impossible list of characters as portrayed by impossibly talented actors at their best.

At once, we are asked to redeem our sins in the past by suffering from painful pains, both literally and mentally.
Other times, we wish to break ourselves free from any haunting commitment as told to us regularly on daily basis.
Occasionally, we do not realize how little lies as we started imagining from our youth has become a life on its own, trapping us inside that only wounding us everytime we make an attempt to get out of it.
Worse, sometimes we realize that it is only too late to show our deepest affection to our beloved ones.

As the characters start unravelling their masks and allowing us to touch their wounds, the film works as a paradigm that strikes hard to our mind without even being preachy. Those opposing the film may question the necessity of cursive languages, but this opposing team may not realize the aching reality the film grounds itself, that behind the seemingly ruthless acts, it is the hearts yearning for acknowledgement of existence that speaks at their loudest.

Through Tom Cruise’s perfectly-fit annoying charisma, through Julianne Moore’s heart-rending acute portrayal of a tormented spouse, through Melora Walter’s emotional grievances, through our sympathetic nods to William H. Macy’s abused character, we finally realize that these people are pieces of what made the film compelling to watch, all while we are kept reminded that:

“We might be through with the past, but the past ain’t through with us”

Funny how often cases of mistaken identities would lead to some surprises, be them pleasant, irritating, thrilling, or a little mixture of all of them. And that’s how Intimate Strangers tells its story, with a very much subdued eroticism that often raises hairs behind your neck, a little bit.

But what makes the film appealing is how it derives its playful theme. For sure, the story of how strangers get intimate to one another after planted coincidences, no puns intended to the title, has been told many times in numerous films, yet Patrice Leconte magically directs the film and gives the story a suspense feeling through the film’s original score as done by Pascal Esteve which reminds a lot to Bernard Herrmann’s collaborations with Alfred Hitchcock’s in the latter’s best works. The score is visually matched with Eduardo Serra’s unusual angle of how camera looks at the two leading characters revealing themselves as the film progresses that gives intimate feeling yet distancing us at the same time.

Thus, don’t force yourself to laugh to this widely-acclaimed film put as comedy by some critics. Instead, let yourself feel rooting for these characters to seduce you with their seductive wits.

Believe it or not, that’s a fun on its own.

Strange how I feel scared in giving my piece of comments about the film, as opposed to its title.

And the more I feel my fear, the stranger it becomes since I grew up with gong-fu genre. Back in 1980s when Beta videocassettes ruled the world the way DVD does now, I was exposed to the world of martial arts films, thanks to my parents’ weekly visit to a video rental store nearby. Thus, I heartily understand that beneath a simple plot which usually revolves around revenges and preserving dignity of the main characters, lies words of wisdom flowing towards the end of the films. In addition, I am also aware that for male-centred stories, the ladies have to step aside to become backdrops of the films, but for female-centred stories, the guys will always be the sidekicks, or the villains.

The rules are what makes Fearless is a sacred film to look up to.

First, the film does not try to pay tribute or homage to the genre, nor it tries to enhance with overused CGI-ladden visual effects that work well with confusing Hero and not with plot-less The Promise.
Fearless gives indeed what an old time gong-fu flick had: a simple storyline that requires your brain to rest and to blink once in a while to alert yourself on your whereabout, and open your eyes widely for action sequences exquisitely choreographed by the master himself, Woo-ping Yuen.

Second, the inescapable notion that the film would be Jet Li’s last martial arts film affects our judgment, and as much as we laugh over predictable sequences, be them during action scenes or those very few dialogue ones, there seems to be a bound to respect his effort to be back to the root that brings him fame and fortune to the global world of film.

Thus, it is only right then to applaud the filmmakers involved to choose a story which leaves no potential sequels behind to avoid any further cliche that would only bring down Li’s hard-earned reputation as a martial arts actor who ages well like a fine wine. Take a look at his multi-layered facial expressions in some dramatic scenes, a great departure from what he initially came up with more than two decades back.

I tip my hat off, take a bow, and salute Jet Li, leaving my fear behind and closing the chapter of his terrifying Hollywood years with what he knows best, a martial arts film. Period.

Let the music speak for itself.

But this is a film, right?

We are very much tickled with the above two statements upon watching the film which tries to revive a rock-film genre. As music is strongly linked to this kind of genre, Garasi does what it knows best: pulsating rhythms that make filmgoers tap in their feet despite the sorrowful lyrics or the gothic-look of the band’s members, the score that works within the same note of the soundtrack, altogether potentially gives a way for spawning merchandises, in particular, a rocking soundtrack album.

Set aside the music, what else do we have?

Sadly, not much.

What draws me to the film prior to watching it is the premise of the film that tries to balance the narrative structure of storytelling with the rock genre as mentioned early on. What I have seen later is the imbalance of the two, leaving each one standing on its own, and not supporting one another. Thus, we will see the highly-energized scenes of the band’s performances do initiate our heads to bang and nod, but once they stop, we are retreated back to the literally dark scenes which will take our eyes for a while to get used to. Patiently waiting for the next few minutes, we will see Prima Rusdi excels in writing dramatic scenes and their twists, particularly the climatic revelation between the band’s singer and her mother (in addition to the slip-in of criticism towards gossipy news which is subtly done very well). And Prima knows not to dwell on this kind of scene for too long to create a good impact to the entire film, leaving the path back to the rock scenes to quench the thirst of the film’s intended audience, i.e. teens or youngsters with high aspiration in music.

There goes how the film will appeal, and for those who prefer to scratch their heads over its simplistic story line, let the comical scenes entertain you instead, for the film knows what it aims best, that is, to rock, the hard way.

Keep telling yourself that this is a love story.

And to have a love story that could span into some other multi-layered stories enriched with complicated subtexts is what makes the film applaudable, and certainly what has put Fernando Meirelles as a director with an edge.

Recalling the quick-cut scene-changes style of City of God, Meirelles once again establishes himself as a director with a penchant for non-conventional narrative storytelling. Audience is forced to sit through the entire 120 minutes of the film to arrange the puzzle, despite some lengthy scenes, yet quickly redeemed with pulsating scores from Alberto Iglesias, and breathtaking looks of Africa as captured by Cesar Charlone, the cinematographer.

The puzzle itself may contain numerous characters whom at times seem to be merely passing by to enjoy their limited fame, although the same cannot be said of Bill Nighy, Danny Huston and Pete Postlethwaite who light up the screen with their dignified turns that make their scenes compelling to watch. Especially the latter, with the least screen time among the three, yet audience will root for more, only to get some salvation towards the end of the film.

However, as the puzzling story is centred at the unconditional love story between the film’s two leads, so is the ensemble which would only work should there present the two leading actors, Ralph Fiennes and Rachel Weisz. Fiennes succesfully channels his transformation from a tight-up diplomat to be a tormented husband who listens to his gut feelings to save his love. Although the transformation here is far from the physical ones as what he previously did in Sunshine or Spider, the subtleness is felt throughout his entire presence.
While Weisz never gets a chance of character-transformation as her partner does, she radiates the screen with her fearless persona that bowl over every single character in the film. In short, without further spoiler of this write-up, the tagline stating “Love. At Any Cost” does indeed reflect and revolve around Weisz’s character, almost entirely. This surely explains why at times, the film seems to be on her shoulder.

And to carry the task effortlessly, Weisz has earned her own spotlight amidst the crowd surrounding her life with The Constant Gardener.

Once again, a love story never fails to prevail.

Why do I find it hard to come up with any reviews on this film?

I came to the theatre with, I can’t help it, a high expectation on this film, knowing that it comes from the guy who blew my mind with Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, and made me believe Brad Pitt (once) did deliver a performance worth of praises in Snatch, although God only knows why he made Swept Away. Forget about the latter, Revolver is his latest vehicle supposedly showing his going back to the root of the former two films mentioned, a genre he seems to be at his utmost ease with: gangster.

Alas, his gangster films are filled with his penchant towards philosophical wisdoms, which serve well with British humor, and this film is no exception. From the time we see the extreme close-up shots of clues written in a white card for Mr. Green (Jason Statham) to the dialogues revealing the messed-up mind of his opponent, Macha (Ray Liotta at his most enjoyable performance), some intelligent audience will find the film a pleasant entertainment to pass two hours by, yet on the other hand, the average audience may find the dialogues tedious, and the only thing to keep them glued to the seat is the action scenes, generously scattered throughout.

Yet, those who are familiar with Ritchie’s works know very well that violent action scenes are not his cup of tea. He will take you through the motifs of every single action slowly, feeding us with visually descriptive scenes to make us belief that behind every character’s gesture lies complicated thoughts that drive them.

Now, does it succeed?

It is up to you to measure the performance of A-list cast which includes the aforementioned Statham, Liotta, Vincent Pastore, Francesca Annis, yet the one who keeps us intrigued with his constantly focused act is none other than André Benjamin, also known as André 3000 of OutKast. He slips through every single scene he’s in with a charming presence that leaves us wanting more. The same feeling I had when I watched P.Diddy in Monster’s Ball.

At the end, my expectation may not be fully met, but seeing a director believing in his own style by not trying hard to redefine the genre he’s familiar with, is more than a relief to me.

Seriously, the show kept me glued to my seat as it had a few surprises at the beginning, yet as other critics’ choices have gone so far, what followed towards the end seemed to be repetitions of familiar picks.

Yet, what turned out to be the delights of the night came from TV categories. Who would’ve thought that Geena Davis could be capable of doing ad-libs, and did it very well? Who would’ve guessed that Sandra Oh finally deserves recognition she’s been long to receive? And again, any show with the presence of Desperate Housewives’s stars would always be glamorous. Add Eric McCormack, the result is even more hilarious.

On to my comments now!

Best Picture (Drama): BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN
Comment:
It highly deserves so.

Best Picture (Comedy or Musical): WALK THE LINE
Comment:
See above. Biopic is always a tough dan likeable subject.

Best Director: ANG LEE (BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN)
Comment:
He can’t hardly wait for the coveted Oscar soon. And a nice tribute to anyone celebrating Chinese New Year soon!

Best Actor (Drama): PHILIP SEYMOUR HOFFMAN (CAPOTE)
Comment:
I told ya, he’s been overdue.

Best Actress (Drama): FELICITY HUFFMAN (TRANSAMERICA)
Comment:
At least she should get one out of two.

Best Actor (Comedy/Musical): JOAQUIN PHOENIX (WALK THE LINE)
Comment:
Everyone’s darling, and …

Best Actress (Comedy/Musical): REESE WITHERSPOON (WALK THE LINE)
Comment:
… so is she.

Best Supporting Actor: GEORGE CLOONEY (SYRIANA)
Comment:
The very first surprise of the night, right when the ceremony just started. I figured out that since it was not possible for win in the other two categories he was nominated in (Best Picture and Best Director), and in addition to the weak listing of Supporting Actor category, Clooney charms voters easily, especially when they recognize he had to put extra 30 pound for his role! Oh, how Hollywood loves sacrifice.

Best Supporting Actress: RACHEL WEISZ (THE CONSTANT GARDENER)
Comment:
What did she do with her hair? To look unrecognized?
What has been unrecognized is her consistently good performances in every single film she’s made so far. Frankly, I couldn’t come up with any predictions why Weisz could come on top, but her winning will guarantee her an Oscar nod, and now it’s a matter of eliminating stiff competitions from Maria Bello and Gong Li to proceed further.

Best Screenplay: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN
Comment:
A surprise over everyone’s choices on more serious theme in Crash or Good Night, and Good Luck., but a beautifully heart-rending story like Brokeback deserves a royal treatment.

Best Original Score: JOHN WILLIAMS (MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA)
Comment:
See? Having two giants in cello and violin never hurt a chance to win.

Best Original Song: A LOVE THAT WILL NEVER GROW OLD (BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN)
Comment:
See? A beautiful and tender song, indeed.

Best Foreign Language Film: PARADISE NOW (Palestine)
Comment:
See? No Man’s Land and Osama won in this category before, can’t you see the pattern?

There you go, the first glam show of the year. If there’s anyone to thank, I’d like to thank one particular smart cameraman who keeps framing Anne Hathaway despite her merely being seated next to Ang Lee. What a choice for such a luminuous beauty!

Oh, and thank you Anthony Hopkins. A short speech indeed for such an award, yet it doesn’t reduce your majestic presence in the film industry throughout.
(What I’ve been meaning to say is that you succeed in not doing what Barbra Streisand did when she accepted the same award a few years back. A 24-minute speech!)

Goodbye, and good luck.

Imagine you are in a foreign country, being there for the first time, and you decide to hop on a bus, taking a trip that lasts for 105 minutes from one point in the West to the other end in the East.

When you jump aboard, you will see unfamiliar faces revealing their characters, yet you can’t trust your instinct to believe in face value, but you’d rather wait for them telling their stories which may transport you to disbelief, as the stories will actually reveal their multi-layered characters. Of course, part of the stories will bore you to death, especially if they decide to give the explosive parts within the first half an hour, while you still have more than one hour to reach your destination.
How do you fill the gap hole?
One option will tell you to enjoy the scenery, something you might need to keep you well informed about that new city you are in. Otherwise, you can (pretend to) nod in whatever agreement those people telling you, and slowly sink yourself to doze off, right until you see that the terminal of your last stop is within the horizon.

There goes how you should watch 9 Naga.

The unsteady pace in telling the stories might be exactly what you experience when a car you’re in hits a bumpy road, after a brisk pace, you are forced to take a few gears back, and slowly build up the speed again, right before hitting another bumpy ones.

In this case, we are given a blowing promise within the first 30 minutes when Rudi Soedjarwo decides to lift the story up, pumping our adrenaline with some gritty scenes done exquisitely well, without either being banal or vulgar.
After all, this is the theme where Soedjarwo finds himself familiar with, having directed Mengejar Matahari which shares a similar brotherhood theme, and even Ada Apa Dengan Cinta? that puts a strong emphasize on sisterhood.

Yet, what follows afterwards is one big hole with overtly long, unnecessary scenes that seem to be filled in order to make the duration lasts longer than 90 minutes, something that Soedjarwo should be able to avoid. A conspiracy theory might predict that Soedjarwo tries hard to compromise the highly macho-theme with a touch of feminine side with a few light-hearted scenes, although the effect tends to prolong the film circling to nowhere.

Thankfully, the balance is more than enough to make the film as one of the rare films to bare the multi-faceted layers of its male characters. This is the field where Soedjarwo excels best, and he never shies away from exploring their emotional outbursts to a good extent. We get to see a tough man with a gentle heart and being responsible towards his family in his own way, whereas the other get to provide us with enlightening comic efffect, much needed in a film with such a ‘heavy’ theme like this.

No matter how heavy it is, your trip has ended, and when you look back, you realize that it shouldn’t take that long to reach your destination. But you are still grateful for the people you meet along the way.

Isn’t it a worth taking trip after all?!