The Fighter ***½

Director: David O. Russell

Cast: Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Melissa Leo

Jack McGee, Mickey O'Keefe

If Rocky had been co-directed by Martin Scorsese and Woody Allen, it would've looked something like The Fighter. The energetic film, based on the life of welterweight fighter "Irish" Micky Ward (Wahlberg), borrows heavily from the cinematic style of those auteurs while preserving the dark humor that has characterized David O Russell's filmography.

The film concentrates on the rise to fame of Micky, who had to overcome the shadow cast by his oldest brother and trainer Dicky Eklund (Bale), a former boxer who succumbed to crack addiction.

The Fighter follows an established formula (does life come in formulas or are they heightened for dramatic purposes?) as Micky realizes the only chance he has of becoming "someone" is getting past his, well...past.
He falls for bartender Charlene (Adams), who helps him see things from a new perspective and slowly helps him to cut loose from Dicky's unhealthy drag as well as his mother7manager Alice's (Leo) excessive power over him.

What makes this film seem exciting in a way, is its screenplay, which more than delivering inspirational conventions, actually creates characters worth watching. This, combined with the dazzling performances delivered by the cast makes for a real treat.

Wahlberg, once again completely underrated (not only by other characters but by the script) moves through the film like an accessory. We mostly see him through others and in the film's centerpiece he literally has to solve his life in a boxing ring.

However beyond the huge biceps and quiet gracefulness lies a man with a harsh inner struggle. It's rare for movies to suggest families can have any sort of bad influence over people (heck, they are even romanticized in The Godfather!) which is why here it comes as surprise to see that even for a minute Wahlberg's character has to cope with choosing between family and self. It's probably not easy and the actor makes it seem like the most natural thing ever.
Bale once more recurs to his chamaleonic abilities and transforms into Dicky. The actor carries over his aggressive charm and makes this man someone who's both intensely attractive and unintentionally dangerous. His scenes with Wahlberg are amazing, as they have created a chemistry that makes us understand the bond that exists between them.

When Dicky finally realizes he might be hurting his younger brother, he doesn't do it with an intense action, he simply turns his back on him and walks away, as if telling him it's alright to move on.

The brothers' different personalities are expressed by Russell beautifully using cinema. Through most of the film we see HBO cameras following Dicky around as they make a documentary about him, on the other side we see that Micky takes Charlene to see a movie he doesn't particularly have any interest in for their first date.

Therefore while Dicky thinks he's made to be in movies, Micky uses them to hide, thinking perhaps they're more powerful than him.
The movie he sees is Belle Epoque (which he pronounces "belly epocue") and in this scene we see Amy Adams shine in completely unexpected ways. Playing a character unlike anyone we've seen her play before the actress achieves new heights and delivers a truly scene stealing performance.

She makes Charlene someone who may not have the class but certainly has the attitude. A conflicted bartender who dropped out of college, it's refreshing to see her find a new chance at happiness by being in love.
The actress delivers her lines with a defying mix of insecurity and bitchiness which makes her all the more fascinating to watch.

Leo is also terrific as the possessive mother. She expresses love for her kids in the only way she can: by making them feel still attached to her. Her Medea-like qualities are hilariously heightened by Russell through the use of her seven daughters who follow her around like a bitter Greek choir full of spinsters. When they confront Charlene in one scene their collective utterance of "skank" is brilliant.
It's ironic perhaps that the actual fight scenes in the movie don't hold a candle to the more intimate moments outside the gyms and auditoriums.
While the fighting sequences are done with superb technical mastery, the humanity felt outside the ring is what makes The Fighter feel like a champ.

Public Enemies **

Director: Michael Mann
Cast: Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, Marion Cotillard
Stephen Dorff, Billy Crudup, Stephen Graham, Channing Tatum
Giovanni Ribisi, Lily Taylor, Branka Katic
David Wenham, Leelee Sobieski

"Public Enemies" gives away its biggest flaw just when it thinks it's making a point.
In one of the film's last scenes, bank robber, John Dillinger (Depp) sits in a movie theater watching "Manhattan Melodrama".
The Clark Gable gangster film, after which he met his demise at hands of the FBI. During the movie Dillinger's eyes shine with mockery and recognition.
He sees himself as the Gable character, a gangster coming to terms with his actions. If director Michael Mann was trying to point out the dicotomy of similarities and differences between movie and real life gangsters his intentions get lost in the process.
Because even if his movie is shot and styled like a docudrama, it still plays out like a Hollywood movie.
Filmed in high definition video by the brilliant Dante Spinotti, "Public Enemies" follows Dillinger's-short, but infamous- career as a bank robber during which he became America's number one public enemy.
The film also follows the rise of the FBI led by J. Edgar Hoover (played spectacularly by Crudup who gives the film's best performance) and agent Melvin Purvis' (Bale) interstate hunt for Dillinger.
The plot (or lack of it) extends languidly for almost two and a half hours during which nothing much happens. Dillinger goes to jail, escapes jail, robs a bank, is involved in a shootout. Purvis looks for him, thinks he's got him, he escapes...
Somewhere in the middle of this Dillinger is smitten by coat check girl Billie Frechette (Cotillard) and they become each other's anchors of sort.
But with this, as with almost everything else, "Public Enemies" fails in providing a sense of realism.
Ironic, thinking how the natural cinematography should by default give the movie a sense of honesty. Mann's biggest mistake was trusting movie precepts.
While Spinotti's work is commendable, most of the time the movie looks, and sounds, like a taped rehearsal. Hollywood hasn't gotten us used to watching gangsters look like real people, they have always possessed an aura of glamor (something highlighted in the "Manhattan Melodrama" scene) that makes them almost mythical creatures.
Now, if Mann's intention was precisely to bring the myth down to earth-which in itself would've been an admirable feat-why then does he insist on having them move, act and talk like movie characters?
Graham as Baby Face Nelson comes off looking like something James Cagney would've played while imitating Richard Widmark. It has been said that 1930's gangster copied their style from the way movies depicted them (a postmodernist stroke of genius by them) in order to justify their public behavior.
But Mann's gangsters act the same way in the comfort of their hideout places. Dillinger is given lines that make you cringe and while Depp gives the character a touch of vulnerability in the end once again it's Johnny Depp being Johnny Depp; an amalgam of mannierisms, quirk and "acting" trying to be passed off as non-acting.
Bale gives Purvis some affecting qualities and realism (augmentated by how magnified his pores look with the cinematography) but again he plays his character like a somber figure who speaks only when needed. Inside Purvis was Dillinger, inside Bale there's Jack Nicholson in "Chinatown".
It is Marion Cotillard who gives the most enigmatic performance in the movie, we do not for a single moment belive her love for Dillinger to be the stuff of "movies", but there is something buried inside her that make her behavior fascinating.
She is swept off her feet by the gangster like Jean Harlow-he needs only to use the perfect line-but in latter scenes when we see her loyalty towards him we wonder what is behind all this.
It's possible to say not even the actress is sure of what Frechette's psychology is (none of the characters in this movie provide the slightest glimpse of backstory).
But it is Billie who haunts us after we leave the theater. Perhaps because she represents everything the film could've been, but wasn't.
This is best summarized in the "Manhattan Melodrama" scene where Dillinger looks upon the screem at Myrna Loy.
Loy appears in several scenes looking stunning and magical, her eyes shining like cinematic diamonds and when we see Dillinger's face we're supposed to know he's remembering Billie.
And how wouldn't he, turns out even Dillinger knows best for the movie; he knows that Cotillard's eyelashes weren't made for shaky docudrama, they were made for celluloid.

Terminator Salvation **

Director: McG
Cast: Christian Bale, Sam Worthington
Common, Anton Yelchin, Bryce Dallas Howard
Helena Bonham Carter, Jane Alezander

The fourth installment in the "Terminator" series begins in the year 2003 where Dr. Serena Kogan (Bonham Carter in full Burton, necrophylia mode) convinces death rown inmate Marcus Wright (Worthington) to donate his body to science. After this "random" prelude we flash forward to 2018 where Judgment Day has taken place and humans are living in hiding under the threat of Skynet and their terminators.
After a Resistance attack, Marcus Wright wakes up and finds himself with no memory of what happened to him after his death. He decides to find answer at Skynet.
John Connor (Bale) is now a leader of the Resistance planning a massive attack on Skynet enterprises. Little does he know that the company has a plan of its own and are trying to kill his yet-to-be father, the young Kyle Reese (Yelchin) who is unaware of being a target.
Before you can say Arnold Schwarzenegger their stories become intertwined and fans of the "Terminator" franchise will hopefully be thrilled to find out new links in the mythology they follow religiously.
For the rest of the audience the film will seem yet another mindless summer blockbuster and that is obviously its biggest flaw.
The characters' history is quite easy to follow, you just need to know "John Connor must die" and disengage all scientific notion of time travelling to get in the film's universe.
This however doesn't justify the fact that the movie feels mostly like a very long prequel to the upcoming sequels.
The film's very existence is impossible to justify as it doesn't add much to what should feel like a saga. You never really care for the characters because early on the filmmakers reassure us that life is expendable if you have time travel and evil machine corporations.
This leaves them time to fill two hours with explosions, all the kinds of robots they can invent (look it's a Motonator!) and references to the previous movies.
The ensemble is mostly uninterested and uninteresting; Bale loves his time in the spotlight and squeezes even the last tough scream and grunt he can get out of a single line of dialogue (is his character dislikable because of the arrogant incident between the actor and the film's cinematographer? It obviously adds a little something to those watching the film), Alexander is cast as one of those "wise and eccentric post apocalyptic priestesses" sci-fi has reserved for respected actresses, Yelchin lacks presence to feel as if his character is important and the underrated Howard is left as an accesory.
The film overall would be a complete miss if it wasn't for the electrifying Worthington who convinces you there is something meaningful going on, at least through his character's eyes.
He turns Marcus into a battlefield of emotions and after a twist (revealed in one of the trailers...) he finds the humanity nobody else in the film ever achieves.
Even when the plot gives him opportunity after opportunity to revel in grandiose moments deemed to be iconic for the franchise (the whole Jesus Christ metaphor is ridiculous and lacks subtlety...crucifixion motives, the whole resurrection issue, John Connor's initials and their connection in the end...) Worthington keeps it down to Earth and visceral. He is this sequel's salvation.

Citizen Slade.

"It doesn't matter what a man does with his life, what matters is the legend that grows up around him"
Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor) in "Velvet Goldmine".

If someone had told Orson Welles in 1941 that his "Citizen Kane" would be remade more than half a century later as an ode to glam rock, he probably wouldn't have believed it...or he would've loved the idea and endorsed it completely.
Todd Haynes' "Velvet Goldmine" is supposed to share only the narrative structure with Welles' masterpiece, but on a closer look, the film is a precise dissection of what many consider to be the greatest film ever made.
While the tag of tribute, reinterpretation or copy is subjective, truth of the matter is that Haynes owes to "Kane" much more than a backbone; and the beauty of "Goldmine" lies not only in watching how he touches a holy grail, but how his views reexamine the classic film and even help us watch it with different eyes as he "dares" to question Welles' choices.
"Kane" was written by Herman J. Mankiewicz and Welles after Mankiewicz came up with the idea of telling the life of a public figure through the eyes of those who knew him as opposed to traditional, chronological biographies.
They settled on media mogul William Randolph Hearst who for the screenplay became Charles Foster Kane: tycoon, womanizer, debaucher, greedy, insecure and madly ambitious.
The film, which begins with Kane's death, follows a reporter as he interviews people from his past including his former business manager (Joseph Cotten), his ex-wife (Dorothy Comingore) and some of his advisors in order to discover what his last words meant.
"Velvet Goldmine" also begins with a death, that of glam rocker Brian Slade, who at the height of his popularity stages his own demise, a fake one, but a death nevertheless (Although technically the film begins with Haynes introducing the idea that an other worldly Oscar Wilde was the first glam rocker).
Reporter Arthur Stewart (Christian Bale) is sent a decade later to investigate whatever happened to him after that event by interviewing people from his life, including his former business manager (Eddie Izzard), his ex-wife (Toni Collette) and former glam rock star Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor).
We first learn about Slade through a television show (Kane's life is revealed to us through a newsreel) and then the plot moves backwards as each character reveals a piece of his life.
It's widely known, or at least understood, that Slade is shaped after David Bowie (especially during his Ziggy Stardust era) while Curt is a hybrid between Iggy Pop and Kurt Cobain (think of him as a sensitive streaker).
So the first thing to ask ourselves is if this is a direct comparison between Hearst and Bowie, Kane and Slade, or if Haynes is simply finding equivalents in terms of influential power during different eras.
The individual cases might come off looking shallow, especially because they live up to being similar only in small, random details like the fact that both Kane and Slade marry flashy, trashy girls (who are later interviewed in the same fashion in the remnants of a bar) who have grown to become jaded women.
Neither film tries to hide the identity of the people who inspired them (note how they stress the words American and trailer park when Slade first sees Curt, as if to make clear it can't be other than Iggy), matters which were incendiary in terms of the fact that Hearst tried to destroy every copy of "Citizen Kane" and Bowie asked none of his songs to be featured in the film despite acknowledgment that this was a completely fictionalized version of a period in his life.
If there was nothing of the truth to be found in any of the films why would someone go to the lengths of trying to stop its release? Slade himself endorses activities of the kind when he says "Nothing makes one so vain as being told one is a sinner."
And for the filmmakers what truth was to be found in these stories?
"Kane" was supposedly a revenge against Hearst on part of Mankiewicz (after the tycoon stopped inviting him to his parties), Welles just played along for subversive fun's sake, but nothing in Haynes filmography or biography tells us that he had any special interest in Bowie or Iggy.
Curiously the effect is reversed in the histories of the narrators. The reporter investigating Kane remains anonymous throughout the film, we never even see his face, he's more of a device if anything; while Arthur Stewart not only was a fan of glam rock (fact which seems to embarrass him in the 80's) but was also emotionally involved with the movement so much that one of the film's most haunting scenes has him masturbate to a Brian Slade record cover as if it was a religious experience.
What difference does it make then how much we know about the subject we're investigating about? How do our perceptions and objectivity change when we have any emotional connections to our subject?
For the reporter in Kane, albeit fascinating, the mogul ends up being nothing more than an assignment. For Arthur on the other side, the investigation becomes the completion of a soul search he began decades before.
But in the end it's debatable if the reporters learn more about their subjects or about themselves.
On a stylistic level "Kane" is still unrivaled in terms of technical prowess (the only thing missing in it is CGI, but Welles probably was already machinating something similar in his mind), while "Goldmine" evokes the qualities of 60's and 70's filmmaking.
From Richard Lester to exploitation and quasi documentaries (technique which also proved effective in "Kane"), but perhaps the film is better known for its dazzling musical sequences, which like a loophole into the characters' minds and emotions, threads them to the rest of the narrative.
Watching "Velvet Goldmine" should feel like both the hangover and the drunkenness, its observations on hedonism as fascinated as they are opposed to it.
What's true is that both films concentrate on eras that had gone by, or would soon (Hearst died ten years after "Kane", same time that the characters in "Goldmine" take before they start investigating Slade) and both look at them as if to find relevance with the present and the future.
After all what is "Goldmine" other than a nostalgic take on artistic evolution?
For Haynes it's obvious that some of the best things have already been done and what better way to prove it than to use a classic film as model to talk about an almost vanished music genre?
Another of the issues to explore about "Kane" is how much of Welles was in Charles Foster Kane. From his upbringing to certain tics and specific details about his life, which lead you to ask why would he decide to create a hybrid of himself and someone he obviously didn't like that much?
Haynes isn't as notorious a character as Welles was, but one can guess that he must have put a little of himself into the characters. Then again he has Curt utter the line "a real artist creates beautiful things and puts nothing of his own life into it".
But maybe this is looking too much into things that are better left off as experiences. After all Haynes himself washes his hands, or triggers our imagination, when he quotes Nathan Brown in the fact that "meaning is not in things, but in between them".

- This post is part of "Musical of the Month" hosted by Nathaniel Rogers of "The Film Experience".

The Dark Knight ***1/2

Director: Christopher Nolan
Cast:
Christian Bale,
Heath Ledger,
Aaron Eckhart
Maggie Gyllenhaal,
Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Gary Oldman

The essence of Christopher Nolan’s “The Dark Knight” is pretty much contained in an exchange of dialogue between two random characters.
Two men sit in a bar while everyone else in the city is consumed by fear. One of them asks “shouldn’t you be out there doing something?”, the other remains seated and replies “today’s my day off”.
The new entry in the Batman saga, might as well have been called “On the Gotham Waterfront” because like, and maybe not as deep since, the 1954 film it explores what makes a singular person stand up against a decaying world of corruption.
As a group of mobsters flood Gotham City with crime, three men unite to bring an end to the mob; Lieutenant James Gordon (Oldman) who seems to be the only incorruptible police member, new District Attorney Howard Dent (Eckhart) who has become a guiding light of hope in the arena of politics and billionaire Bruce Wayne (Bale) as the Batman, the masked vigilante who Gotham fears, hates and loves.
After a couple of big hits against organized crime, the mafia bosses receive a business proposition from a bizarre psychopath who calls himself the Joker (Ledger): for half their money, he will kill Batman for them.
Once they understand the scope of the Joker’s evil, they, ironically, take him seriously, accept his plan and stand back as the villain unleashes complete hell on the city.
The finale of “Batman Begins” was a thing of rare beauty; as a single card announced the arrival of a villain for the next chapter and the film somehow assumed that the audience would be back for more.
Turns out that this overpowering mix of excitement and arrogance was built upon steady grounds, because “The Dark Knight” not only fulfills the promise set by its predecessor, it raises the bar to a completely different level which films, not merely the ones inspired by comic books, rarely touch.
Nolan’s hyper realistic vision, gets under your skin and creates constant threat and fear, making this the most political film released so far this year as it deals with terrorism, impending cataclysms and seeping corruption without moralizing and going to absolutely dark places without becoming hopeless.
The Joker is Nolan’s biggest ally in this, because as a self professed lover of chaos he is as unpredictable and destructive as a force of nature.
Ledger’s performance is one of pure maniacal evil; wearing makeup he seems to have extracted from the ashes and blood of the dead, he moves like a sneaky creature. His scars are terrifying because you never learn where they come from (he delivers a different backstory to whoever he’s interested in destroying next) and whenever he’s not onscreen you fear what he will do next.
The whole film serves itself from this impending sense of doom, but Nolan is a master at keeping this feeling on various levels.
His idea of chaos doesn’t come only as obvious explosions and evident acts of terrorism (dealt with in thrilling and elaborated action sequences, where Wally Pfister’s cinematography shines and which the movie has plenty of), but the worst kind which grows inside all of his characters making them question the nature of good and evil.
Eckhart’s Dent begins as an idealistic politician, aided by his looks (which make him feel like Gary Cooper in a Capra film) and his defiant spirit, the actor brings a sense of optimistic sadness to Harvey, with Eckhart you feel the struggles he had to face to get where he’s at.
Those familiar with the Batman story (and sometimes the script becomes a bit predictable based on this need to satisfy its comic book roots) know that Dent will turn out for the worst and those that don’t, still will feel that he is too good to be true and will expect him to fulfill their need to be right and show his dark side.
Proving that Christopher and Jonathan Nolan’s screenplay has a point when it tackles people’s shaky view of moral grounds.
When you take into consideration that Dent and Wayne both are in love with the same woman (played by Gyllenhaal, more luminous than ever) and that fate plays a big deal in their lives, you realize that Dent is the real tragic figure of the story. He is the one the gods choose to play with.
In an ensemble that works wonders, Freeman as Lucius Fox and Caine as faithful butler Alfred, go beyond bringing the joy of their mere presences and deliver their lines with enough class to avoid being tagged as comedic relief.
Oldman’s Gordon anchors the film with a performance that draws from serenity and subtlety. His quiet manner and his strong belief in the good in others, especially in the slowly rotting system he’s part of, give the story its strongest axis of hope.
And Bale, who like Batman suffers from a syndrome of being given for granted, turns in the film’s most powerful performance as someone who has to take on all the troubles times two.
For his Bruce Wayne a line must be set between the careless playboy image and the part of him that comes closer to his alter ego and leads him to put his secret identity in jeopardy.
For his Batman a limit must be established between how strong is his will to fight injustice, without crossing to the side of lawlessness.
This is no ordinary superhero and Bale vanishes so much into both of them that even his character begins to feel shakable.
While we wonder what makes people choose between good and evil, Bale pushes us further and at moments makes us believe that Wayne is so selfish that as Batman he uses Gotham (designed by Nathan Crowley as a concrete labyrinth that rivals the mind in terms of dark alleys) as his personal playground or as his unlimited therapy session where he can battle his demons at the sake of others.
The Joker feeds from this sense of duality inside everyone and in the film’s greatest scene poses a dilemma of Melvillean proportions between the passengers of two ferries.
During these moments you can see “the whole world contained in one place” as people fighting for survival build democracy for contingencies, wonder about the paths they’ve taken in their lives and even dare to think they can decide who lives and who doesn’t.
Interestingly enough, here the audience also makes a choice and based on this personal decision the film will have a different outcome for anyone who watches it.
While for some it will instill the need to find the light shining in the darkest places, for others who have laughed at the Joker’s horrifying deeds it will just be a reassurance of apocalypse.
What remains true is that in “The Dark Knight”s sadomasochist view of the world the brave ones are those who wonder if we’ve become immune to other people’s pain; with the potential for the heroic lying in the path this leads them to.