Oscars 2012: Worst Dressed and Meh (Mostly Meh Though)

This year nobody seemed to make a total fool out of themselves which is a surprise. Then again, the Oscars had never been this safe and predictable in terms of winner which makes the fashion all the more understandable. To kick things off in the meh department we have Miss Angelina Jolie, whose leg seems to have taken on a life of its own in the aftermath of this preposterous look. While we all can agree that she's a beautiful woman, her leg pose was stupid because it made everyone laugh while she thought she was being Jessica Rabbit in terms of sexiness. Perhaps if the leg hadn't been poking out of a boring velvet Atelier Versace, we might've been a bit more impressed by it.

Bérénice Bejo's  Elie Saab is not bad by any means, but the color washes her out in such a way, that not even her fiery hair can spark any life in it.

Jesus Christ, enough with the nude color Kristen Wiig! This J. Mendle might be beautiful but it feels like she's worn it to every awards show she's been to.

This Marchesa is a tricky thing. On one side the combination of colors is quite striking and the beading is quite the handcraft, but it makes poor SaBu look at least twenty years older and twenty pounds heavier. The unflattering mid-section makes it seem as if she just had too much ice cream and wants to conceal her new belly. The lack of drama upstairs (meaning the natural makeup) in this case work against her, because we keep being drawn to the strange ice claws around her waist. Overall this one's a mess.

Melissa Leo is a mess one more time. This time she went for a too informal Reem Acra that slightly recall this ensemble worn by Natalie Portman last year. Portman was pregnant at the time, which explains the fact that she was going for a shapeless look. Leo has no excuse.

Wouldn't Jane Fonda have looked great in this Valentino Couture gown? It's totally up her alley and she's only like 60 years older than Shailene Woodley...

Oy, most people are in love with Viola Davis and think saying something unflattering about her is either being a racist, an idiot or the most insensitive person alive, but not even they will be able to deny that she chose a very bad time to get rid of her wigs. We get it, she's proud of her heritage but the wigs were so beautiful that I'm sure no one really knew they were fake. This new hair gives her a Dennis Rodman look that's beyond unflattering, mostly because she's always pairing it up with dresses that are way too tight in the boob department. The color in this Vera Wang isn't doing anything for her really.

Oh J. Lo, you A-list hoochie. This Zuhair Murad dress is what Octavia Spencer was wearing but unlike what the pattern did for her, it does nothing for Lopez who looks like a hooker from space. The holes on her arms are inexplicable and give the dress a cheap look. Did she run out of fabric?

What do you think of these ladies? Anyone here you would promote to best?

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close ***

Director: Stephen Daldry
Cast: Tom Hanks, Sandra Bullock, Thomas Horn
Viola Davis, John Goodman, Max von Sydow
Jeffrey Wright, Zoe Caldwell

When did manipulation become such a dirty word? Art after all is designed after the very concept of manipulation; whether it is to manipulate elements that become art (concept which goes from painting to the precise position of frames while editing films) or to provoke a reaction from audiences, artists throughout the ages have attempted to manipulate us into thinking, feeling or seeing differently.
It results quite baffling then that people often find themselves so surprised to "discover" an art piece is trying to manipulate them. Isn't this after all what is expected? Even those artists whose entire oeuvre is meant to provoke indifference, are asking something from their audiences.
Throughout his career, Stephen Daldry has been accused of being a manipulator who relies on specifically engineered elements to elicit pre-fabricated praise, stick to the whims of his producers and more often than not rake in some awards.
This shouldn't speak about Daldry's work more than about the industry he's working in, one where he has proved himself to be a highly efficient worker whose mastery of the medium reminisces the work being done by countless filmmakers during the studio system era. Perhaps this is what bothers most people about Daldry's success: his kind of machine-like filmmaking seems like it's set itself out there to invalidate the concept of auterism.
If so, such is the case with Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close an adaptation of Jonathan Safran Foer's
eponymous novel in which Daldry makes a case for his precise taste and manipulation abilities without trying to create something that remotely resembles a personal signature.
His movie is composed of quirks and settings that have worked before and therefore work again (the frenetic editing of Amélie, a musical score that evokes Daldry's own The Hours, a beautiful work of cinematography etc.) Daldry even goes as far as to extend this seeming laziness to the casting, to play the roles of two every-men (and every-women) he went with two of America's most beloved actors: Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock.
That these two get together to tale a story about 9/11 seems even more appalling! How does Daldry dare make Sandra and Tom suffer? And yet that's precisely what he does and unsurprisingly makes it work.
Daldry is one of those directors who is at the service of story and he concentrates on delivering just that, a well told tale with elements that work, too much, like clockwork.
Hanks plays Thomas Schell, a beloved husband (Bullock plays his wife Linda) and father (Horn plays his son, Oskar) who dies during the NYC terrorist attacks leaving his family without any closure. Oskar is angered at the fact that his mother buried an empty casket, until he finds that his oedipal trauma might have a cure when he finds a mysterious key his father left behind.
Not questioning whether this is a secret message or not, little Oskar sets out on a magical journey across New York City, trying to find the lock that will be opened by the key. Along the way he meets several characters who, like him, have lost someone or are enduring emotional pain (Viola Davis and Jeffrey Wright are particularly touching as a married couple) one of them being a mysterious elderly man (Sydow) who for no specified reason refuses to speak.
Oskar's adventure has less in common with Don Quixote than it does with the little boy from The Tin Drum  whose story is similarly placed against an unsteady historical background. Leaving behind all subtleties for an impressive, if often obnoxious, performance, child-actor Horn grabs all of Oskar's quirks and turns them into elements that eventually become believable. That he is able to both irritate you and warm your heart speaks about the actor's ability to overcome superfluous character details (he seems autistic but in old school fashion this is never alluded to in clear medical terms) and Daldry makes sure that he has enough to do around the adult actors. Watching the little boy with Sydow could've had creepy implications but instead evokes the legendary actor's devotion to his child in Pelle the Conqueror, in similar fashion, Horn stands perfectly against Hank's jolly demeanor and an impressive Bullock who forgoes all her usual movie star charm for an endless longing.
Perhaps the movie feels shallow because it doesn't devote itself to observing the suffering of 9/11 victims; instead attempting to find the universal in the specific, but touching a subject of that magnitude would always mean that catharsis would be impossible. Curiously to try and find answers within the movie would mean that audiences were recreating Oskar's journey, aiming for something higher than they can accomplish. Whether they take this journey with predisposed anger or hoping for the best and preparing for the worst is up to each of them.

SAG Style.

I was busy watching The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo for the third time last night and forgot all about the SAG awards. I loved the winners, so there's that and now let's focus on what really mattered, how everyone looked:

Again, as much as I loved pregnant Natalie Portman, that baby bump robbed us of some magic last year, just look how stunning Natalie looks in this plum Giambatista Valli. Her figure has never been better and the simplicity of the makeup and hair are to die for. 

I have come up with a theory. Every time Meryl Streep looks good she loses at awards shows. It's like they have something against the greatest living actress looking beautiful when she wins...

You want proof o my theory? Should I write a full post on this? Help me decide... 

Anyway she was fantastic in Vivienne Westwood last night.

Marchesa does no wrong when well used. Viola Davis is a true goddess in this flowy Greek inspired dress.

Tilda Swinton is a true vision in this astonishing Lanvin creation, which might just be the exact opposite of the liquid fabric Lanvin she collected her Oscar in. The red lips and hair remind me a bit of Marilyn Monroe and I'm imagining the late genius Derek Jarman doing Marilyn with her...

Is there anyone more adorable than Octavia Spencer? She's looking fierce in this light grey Tadashi Shoji. The high hairdo might be the best we've seen her in so far and the lovely top make her look truly regal.

Oh, actually yes, there is someone more adorable than Octavia, her The Help co-star Jessica Chastain. Want proof of that? Here you go. Anyway, the lovely actress stunned in a blue Calvin Klein that highlighted her upper body in a way she's failed to do recently. Doesn't she look dreamy?

Rose Byrne is gorgeous and this dazzling Elie Saab jumpsuit (and her new bob!) make her look even better! Only someone with real guts can pull off such a daring look on a red carpet. She's ace!

I will keep including Lea Michele in these lineups for as often as she looks completely ridiculous in her extreme posing and affected, almost constipated, in her facial gestures. This Versace dress is awesome, but Lea always manages to cheapen everything with her sluttiness and need to be in the spotlight. Sigh.

The always lovely Emma Stone rocked this Alexander McQueen tea-length dress which pays homage to The Help while reminding us of what a genius McQueen was...that top is SO Lee!

A Valentino red dress seems to be what Michelle Williams needed to finally look alive. She's a picture of joy in this column dress with delicate lace appliqués.

Someone needs to feed Angelina Jolie, she looks cadaverous in this Jenny Packham dress. The gown itself is lovely but Jolie's bracelet looks heavier than her entire body. 

Who were your best dressed at SAG? 

My Favorite Things About the Oscar Nods.

Rooney Fucking Mara!
I gasped, squealed with joy and peed my pants a little when her name came after the very deserving Viola Davis. I still wonder what people saw in Glenn Close's ridiculous performance as Albert Nobbs (even SaBu makes more sense in retrospect) but stranger things have happened...
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo got four other nominations and even if it missed out on the big ones (not that David Fincher would care) you all know I live for Best Actress, so this is quite a joy for me.

Other things that made me gleeful and smiley:
- The Tree of Life getting in Best Picture and Best Director.
- Allen, Scorsese AND Malick in for Best Director. In terms of pure auterist class this is the best year for the category since 2001 (with Payne taking the ugly Ron Howard spot)
- Jessica Chastain getting in for The Help.
- Bret McKenzie being an Oscar nominee for The Muppets, even if Sergio Mendes will probably win, considering how Oscar likes to be all "worldly" and "embracing of different cultures".
- Midnight in Paris' Best Art Direction nod, completely unexpected but incredibly deserved.
- J. Edgar failing to earn a single nod. Really Clint, even you need to make an effort sometimes.

and of course...

Jennifer Lawrence looking absolutely radiant! That hair color makes her look luscious! Anyone know who was she wearing?

What were your fave things?

Girls on Film.

Head over to PopMatters and read out list of the Best Female Performances of 2011. You'll be in for quite a treat!

The Help ***

What Tate Taylor does with his adaptation of The Help defies expected - if slightly biased - ideas of how African Americans are treated in Hollywood mainstream cinema. His film deals with civil rights, racism and segregation with such delicate command that, for all the industry has accustomed us to...

read the rest of my review over at PopMatters.

Eat Pray Love ***

Director: Ryan Murphy
Cast: Julia Roberts
Javier Bardem, James Franco, Richard Jenkins, Viola Davis
Billy Crudup, Hadi Subiyanto, Tuva Novotny, Mike O'Malley
Luca Argentero, Rushita Singh, David Lyons

How do you sell a movie about a woman who leaves her husband to find herself, while traveling to some of the most exotic locales on the planet? You get Julia Roberts to play her.
It makes no difference that Eat Pray Love is based on the autobiographical novel written by Elizabeth Gilbert, the truth is that perhaps there would've been no way to bring this movie to the screen without making it feel like a "whine fest" if it wasn't because Roberts turns it into a Julia Roberts movie.
Not to pay any disservice to Gilbert, since apparently those who love her book think it gets to be spiritual and transcendental, but the thing is that watching Julia on a movie screen immediately takes you to a place where movie stars still are gods of sorts and mortals can still drool over them.
This helps the movie because it helps make Gilbert approachable, given that we rarely think of her as an actual "normal" person, she's pretty much Julia Roberts' version of Gilbert.
This makes it easy to like Julia because it wouldn't really be easy to like Liz.
When the film begins she decides to leave her husband (Crudup) after figuring out she doesn't love him. She begins an affair with a young actor (Franco) who she doesn't love either and then decides it's time to travel the world and find her balance.
She begins her journey in Italy where she eats, then goes to India where she prays and culminates it in Bali where she loves (Bardem plays Felipe her Brazilian love interest).
Director Murphy (who also wrote the screenplay with Alice Salt) seems to have no real intention to make anything in the movie subtle.
Besides the obvious explanation of the title, he spends trying to digest everything for the audience. Along with director of photography Robert Richardson he tries to make everything seem like what we'd expect it to be.
Therefore the entire movie is bathed in a golden light that makes everything seem nice but doesn't really allow elements to breathe. Richardson who is an extraordinary DP, here seems restricted by the homogeneous look Murphy tries to impose on everything.
The same can be said about the editing, which more often than not seems overcompensating. The scenes where Liz eats are usually cut with such quickness that they make her bites seem car commercials, it's as if Murphy is too worried we would get too envious about the foods and chose not to show them too much and there's a particularly obnoxious scene where a woman's fashion success is celebrated by an entire crowd of football fans.
It's fortunate then that while Murphy digests for us, Julia gets to do the actual savoring. Her performance might not be a reinvention of modern acting but the actress shows glimpses of a maturity that she has experimented with very few times in her career.
Not only does she look more radiant and beautiful than ever but she also manages to infuse Liz with a certain sense of earthiness despite the whole "she's Julia" issue.
Even when the movie succumbs to cliché Julia takes it to a completely different place. For example it doesn't take long to assume Gilbert was a fan of Sex and the City given the way she narrates and tries too hard to deliver Carrie Bradshaw-isms, but Roberts takes these comments with a pinch of salt and instead of turning them into puns or teabag advice she confronts them and even make us wonder if Gilbert wasn't actually consciously creating a marketable product while trying to be spiritual (think Paulo Coelho minus the ominous hocus pocus).
After all this is a woman who literally had to begin from zero after an ugly divorce. It would make sense, and give her some humanity, to think that she was finding ways to make money after her trip was over.
Eat Pray Love rarely gives us a glimpse of the Julia Roberts laughter, you know that big, loud roar that's impossible to ignore, instead we get more of her soulful smile this time around.
Perhaps the screenplay doesn't really try hard to see what's behind Liz, her motivations rarely move past the "find myself" stereotype but Julia detected this and tries to explore it without acquiring methodical tics.
Instead of approaching Liz like a vessel waiting to be invaded, Roberts gets near her and tries to empathize, which is why it's evident that nobody else would've been able to play this woman and not make her seem selfish and to an extent an anti-heroine.
Because for all its soul searching and mumbo jumbo, Eat Pray Love is still very much about an American woman using the world to expiate her sins but without the selfawareness to make it a satire.
Because it has Roberts though it gains a heart, one that is broken on several occassions (mostly by herself) and because of this we leave the movie, not feeling patronized or offended but actually questioning what we just saw.
If people like Gilbert get to travel the world and still come up empty handed, what hope is there for the people who only get to travel from movie to movie looking for answers to their existential questions.
Murphy doesn't seem to know that his glossy travelogue might seem shallow but Julia does and with a comforting smile lets us know that however deep we sink in our own tragedies, almost everyone knows that a spoonful of gelato makes the world seem perfect even for at least a second.

Knight and Day *

Director: James Mangold
Cast: Tom Cruise, Cameron Diaz
Peter Sarsgaard, Jordi Mollà, Viola Davis, Paul Dano
Marc Blucas, Celia Weston, Dale Dye

When thinking of Knight and Day, the word "throwback" might come to mind but it's definitely not the word that best helps describe it.
It reminds us of a throwback because we understand the film wanted to be something in the tradition of The African Queen or Charade; a show for grownups featuring two big movie stars who romance each other while running away from peril.
In execution though the movie feels more like a bad TV pilot, done just to pair Diaz and Cruise (who had been wickedly good together in Vanilla Sky, her more than him, but still there was something there).
This time around the tables are turned and it's Cruise who's in control as he plays Roy Miller, a seductive rogue spy who teams up with unsuspecting ditzy civilian June Havens (Diaz) as he tries to clean his good name from the people who framed him...or so we think.
After meeting "by accident" in an airport, Roy takes a liking to June (some might call it plain old stalking) and spends most of the movie trying to convince her he's a good guy trying to do his best to protect an important weapon designer (Dano in full geeky glory).
She's approached by an FBI agent (Sarsgaard) and his boss (Davis) who tell her, Roy is in fact an agent who lost his mind...
But who to believe?
The film in a way acts like an analogy for Tom Cruise's latter days career. On one side we have Cruise trying to remind us how he's the irresistibly charming movie star we always thought he was, this part is essentially conveyed by Miller, who needs to do not more than flash his million dollar smile and scoff (in that very Tom Cruise way) to get away with anything.
On the other side we have what seems to be the voice of reason in the shape of the FBI who informs us that despite our best knowledge this man is in fact insane. This could very well represent, well, our opinion of what Cruise has been doing for the past seven years; meaning action after action to convince us something's not quite working up there.
So on a very basic level the film is an endurance test of how much Cruise you can take. If you think he's an obnoxious midget you'd be better off watching something else because besides the whole lotta Tom we get, the plot also asks us to push the boundaries of coherence in order to accept what's going onscreen as something remotely real.
There is a recurring gag throughout the film where Roy drugs June, mostly to move locations without her having a panic attack, which are represented visually by a series of mostly blurry snippets that give us an idea of what the hell is going on.
We see Roy hanging upside down, Roy on a plane, Roy on a boat etc...the difference between this and say something like North by Northwest (another example of polar opposites in a cross continent adventure) is that we don't care where June will wake up next, or if she'll even wake up at all.
Deep inside we know everything will turn out well for these two and the movie fails to raise even a second of real excitement, thrills or even fun.
The one thing that remains a mystery throughout the film is what got Sarsgaard and Davis to star in this?

The Ten Movies That Defined My Decade.

4. Far From Heaven (Todd Haynes, 2002)

A few years ago in film school I was asked to do a paper on one movie and dissect its influences. I approached the professor and told him I was doing "Far From Heaven".
When he told me to pick another subject and stay away from fluff like this, I knew I'd taken the correct decision.
Todd Haynes misunderstood masterpiece is the kind of movie that was dismissed by the masses when it was released, in the same way the movies it pays tribute to were seen as just "women's pictures" during their era.
A clever study of how little things have changed since the days when Douglas Sirk directed Jane Wyman in glossy, gorgeous pictures, "Far From Heaven" was never about the past or just a "remake" of sorts, it was a full out critique to a system that in the United States particularly, was becoming more and more conservative.
The Army's "Don't Ask Don't Tell" policy was cleverly shown in how Frank Whitaker (Dennis Whitaker) has to hide his homosexuality from his town and reminds me of another wonderful movie that dealt with the same period.
In "The Hours" Julianne Moore played a quiet housewife who's become an ornament in her home, when one day she asks a neighbor (played wonderfully by Toni Collette) about heir own fears, she just replies that all she knows is that their husbands deserve them, they went to the war and everything after all...
In Haynes' delicate work of art Moore again plays the 50's housewife coming to terms with her own inner demons (she played the "same" character in the exterior in both movies, but couldn't have made each of them more intimate and distinct if she'd had facial reconstruction).
"Far From Heaven" dealt with the Bush administration in a way few movies dared to, it questioned values that Americans had been carrying for generations and simply had chosen to name "tradition".
It helps that the movie is a wonder to behold (and to listen-it features the great Elmer Bernstein's last film work) with Haynes and crew recreating every single aspect of a production circa 1950's-and on a indie budget!
When the time came for me to get working on my paper I didn't just choose Sirk as a source of inspiration, I concentrated more on the works of Norman Rockwell, who also suffered from an utter underestimation of his work based on its looks.
A few months ago I read a wonderful profile on Rockwell and history is beginning to appreciate him for the brilliant artist he was.
He got away with paintings that contain layers and layers of disturbing symbolism and hid them under lovely family scenes.
I'd like to think that we live in an era where artists no longer have to codify what they're trying to say in order to avoid repression.
That's not always true and "Far From Heaven" will forever be a proof of how ideas wrapped in the prettiest packages might just be the most subversive.

State of Play **1/2

Director: Kevin Macdonald
Cast: Russell Crowe, Ben Affleck
Rachel McAdams, Jeff Daniels, Robin Wright Penn, Helen Mirren
Jason Bateman, Viola Davis, Michael Berresse

A research assistant working for congressman Stephen Collins (Affleck) dies mysteriously. A man and a pizza deliverer are shot by an unidentified gunman.
Before you can say Clark Kent, Washington Globe reporter Cal McAffrey (Crowe) has found links between both incidents as well as a corporate conspiracy involving senators, sex scandals and hitmen.
Based on Paul Abbott's magnificent miniseries for the BBC, director Macdonald finds himself trying to deliver six hours worth of material in two streamlined hours; with results that often thrill, but never fulfill.
The succession of events is rapid and keeps you interested in the action, especially because new evidence/leads arrive by the minute and for this the film essentially achieves its mission of being one of the only adult thrillers delivered so far this year.
The cast is phenomenal, even if they don't really push their craft too much. Crowe is always fascinating to watch, he inhabits McAffrey in such a way that you never doubt he's been a reporter for almost two decades.
McAdams as ingenue blogger Della Frye brings a sense of girl scout perkiness that flies well with Crowe's more established macho ways (romance between them is never hinted, but there is sexual tension all the time).
Mirren plays editor Cameron Lynne and the role is a walk through the park for her, it requires her just being commanding and elegantly offensive. Wright Penn, who really needs to get herself a leading role, brings a moving sense of despair playing Stephen's cheated wife.
Daniels is wonderful in a limited role, as is the always fascinating Davis (she gets one miserable scene here!). The only inadequate piece is Affleck, who thinks playing a congressman requires him to frown and overuse his squared jaw.
The screenplay remains taut and the changes that have been made from the miniseries actually work (for the most part), there are still some lose ends and some rather Hollywood-esque plot twists (a deranged hitman goes all Terminator on Crowe in the final, unnecessary, showdown).
But mostly the film suffers because it fails to follow one of the guiding rules of journalism; it doesn't choose an angle.
It wants to be about everything, about current politics, about Iraq war profits, about the decease of printed media (which should've been the angle to pick!), plus each of the characters represents a particular point of view.
Cal is all about respect for the the story, Della believes in morality and "the right thing", Cameron thinks about money and company losses and there is just so much going on that the whole movie feels as a work in progress.
Those who can, should stick to the miniseries, those who have not seen it will probably enjoy this movie with all and its typos.

Doubt **1/2

Director: John Patrick Shanley
Cast: Meryl Streep, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, Viola Davis

Perhaps not all theater was meant to be adapted into cinema. Even if the notion that both mediums share a fraternal link has existed since movies began, the truth is that they are completely different experiences and the same screenplay performed in each of the mediums will create a distinct effect in the audience.
"Doubt" probably plays better on the stage, with its small cast limited to a reduced space and the omnipresence of the audience whose eyes add weight to the characters' burdens.
As a movie it lacks a certain punch and urgency which ultimately affects its entire purpose.
Meryl Streep plays Sister Aloysius Beauvier, a nun serving as principal for a Catholic school in 1964 Bronx. Conservative in every aspect she commands respect and fear from the students and her fellow nuns including the naive Sister James (Adams).
Intent on maintaining a certain order she sets her eyes on Father Flynn (Hoffman) a revolutionary priest who people like even if he suggests they use a "secular" song for the school's Christmas pageant.
After alerting Sister James to watch out for the priest, she receives notice that Father Flynn has had a private meeting with Donald Miller (Joseph Foster), the only African American student in the school who has become victim to pranks and isolation, convinced that the priest molested the child Sister Aloysius goes on a campaign to destroy him.
Based on his own play Shanley's adaptation offers some moral, spiritual and ethical questions that make for a fascinating piece. "Doubt can be a bond as powerful and sustaining as certainty" affirms Father Flynn during one of his sermons and after a too obvious shot of Sister Aloysius and Sister James, Shanley makes it obvious that this is entirely an actor's showcase.
Adams gives an effective portrayal of innocence; she suggests maliciousness when interacting with Sister Aloysius, but ends up being a naive girl torn apart between right, wrong and her commitment to her profession.
Davis has two scenes as David's mother Mrs. Miller, but in just one makes an absolutely indelible impression; as she walks with Sister Aloysius listening to what might be happening to her son she walks through a whole life, Davis' face contains the entire history of this woman who might be the only character in the film who really knows who she is.
Hoffman has the face to pull off both a pedophile and a saint and does so portraying Father Flynn like a man who can only give love, in whatever way the audience chooses to conceive it.
His character could've ended up being a villain or a martyr and Hoffman avoids both making his character completely human.
The film is ambiguous about what really happened and watching Hoffman you have to become judge and decide for yourself.
Then there's Streep who makes sure she commands all the attention as Sister Aloysius, the brilliant actress seems to have trouble getting into character; known for her subtle immersion into her roles, during her first scenes in the film she still seems to be adjusting to the character.
She twitches, purses her lips and provides more affecting mannerisms than a mime but just as you're about to condemn the actress for showing the tactics of her craft you realize that this has been Sister Aloysius all along.
Like a diva, she is so sure about her ability to cause fear, her self imposed superiority and her overall power that she lets us know she can do whatever she wants to do with it.
Those who know people raised in Catholic schools will recognize Sister Aloysius in stories they've heard or people they know.
If she wants to offer grandiose displays of histrionics who among her congregation will dare to tell her she's wrong? Streep finds a certain vulnerability in Sister Aloysius because more than the other characters she is the one with the crisis of faith, more precisely who or what to have faith in.
Should it be her pride, her position, her God or her need to do good even if she must hurt others?
She proclaims herself as the one to "outshine the fox in cleverness", but Streep knows better than to reduce this woman to a psychopath, a woman with penis envy looking for gender equality or a villain.
It's a shame then that Shanley doesn't seem to know his characters the way his ensemble does. While it seems he's putting his faith in them, his directorial skills prove otherwise as he uses every trick in the book to convey ideas and emotions.
He directs with the insecure eagerness of someone who landed a movie star for the high school theater production.
Big scenes are done with tilted Hitchcokian angles and moments of revelation are accompanied by storms and wind.
While it's understandable that the director would want to highlight dramatic moments, truth is all along you feel almost as if Shanley was hovering above the screen with little puppet strings, then running off to bang the metal for the thunder effects, then run again once more to play the wicked organ music and so on.
For a subject which deals so much with our own power to choose, and a last scene that relies heavily on this, it's a shame that for his film Shanley has no belief in free will.