J. Edgar *½

Director: Clint Eastwood
Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Armie Hammer, Naomi Watts
Judi Dench, Josh Lucas, Ed Westwick, Jeffrey Donovan, Denis O'Hare

Somewhere between his cross-dressing and legacy as one of the most controversial figures in 20th century history, J. Edgar hoover might have been a fascinating man; however you can't tell this judging by Clint Eastwood's biopic.
Leonardo DiCaprio plays Hoover as a young idealist man, all the way to the eccentric, paranoid creature he turned into towards the end of his life. The film's framing device is having Hoover dictate his biography to several typists (among them Westwick in full Chuck Bass mode), highlighting his feats and hinting at events in his private life that make us wonder if they are part of said framing device or slips in Eastwood's uneven narrative.
Shot in absolute darkness by Tom Stern, who foregoes the chiaro in chiaroscuro, the film feels like if it wants to hide things from us because it's not even sure how to tell them or if it's even allowed to tell them. We see Hoover as a young man taking charge of the newly created Bureau of Investigation, trying to solve crimes as famous as Charles Lindbergh's (Lucas) baby being kidnapped and taking credit for arresting famed gangster John Dillinger.
Throughout the film there's a sense of conflict between the screenplay and the filmed result and this makes sense because the screenplay was written by openly gay writer Dustin Lance Black who, with reason, tries to push the film's gay agenda by stressing out Hoover's infamous love of cross dressing and his strange relationship with Clyde Tolson (Hammer). There is of course nothing wrong with revealing aspects of a public figure that might've been unknown by most people, but to do so when the film being made is an homage to old studio filmmaking only works out in disastrous ways.
You get a sense, because of the film's structure, that every time Hoover's homosexuality is hinted at, Eastwood immediately "denies" it with something more "macho" and has him abuse someone or explode in a political tantrum.
The performances don't really help convey any coherent message either with DiCaprio mumbling his way throughout the running time, Hammer being eaten alive by his ridiculous old age makeup and Dench as Mama Hoover not even trying to come up with a decent American accent in her Shakespearean mama-wolf portrayal.
With its conflicting ideologies, excessive running time and preposterous selfimportance, the only person who comes up truly revealed in J. Edgar is its director, who despite a productive run as one of the most iconic American heroes is revealing signs of sad, albeit expected, senility.

Short Take: Three Horror Movies.

The scariest thing about the Paranormal Activity movies is still how popular they are. How this brand of cheaply done and cheaply looking films can manage to outgross much better projects is a sad reminder that today's audiences are victim of cattle thinking. Once they get used to a "series", they don't care how many times they are told the same story. These movies prove that audiences enjoy the act of not thinking. The third installment in the series, goes back to the very beginning and explores why numbers 1 and 2 happened. To say the reasons are preposterous would be nothing compared to the way in which the filmmakers rely on facile trickery and obvious techniques to try and scare us. The effects have been getting consistently better, something which can't be said about the acting and plot devices. This one, set in the 80s, has us wondering how did these progressive people guess that everything should've been filmed in case a movie was made about them decades later. The film doesn't rely try to adjust itself to the settings and to the spirit of the era, it goes straight for the established process that's worked for them in the past, the only thing they've changed is the medium by which we see the demonic activities. One must wonder, by the time they get to Paranormal Activity 45 will the stories be displayed using cave paintings? Grade *

The only good thing that came out of Dream House must've been Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz getting married. The rest is an outrageously bad attempt at mating Shutter Island, Memento and any Stephen King novel involving snow and houses. If you've seen the trailer, you don't need to bother with the rest of the movie. What remains mysterious is why people like Sheridan, Watts and pretty much everyone else involved in the production (the underrated Elias Koteas for example) saw in the lazy screenplay and the redundant characters.  Grade *

The Change-Up tries to invent the wheel by taking Freaky Friday and adding curse words, boobs and poop jokes. Jason Bateman and Ryan Reynolds play bets buds who go through a body exchange situation after peeing in a magical fountain. One's a control freak lawyer, the other's a slacker. You don't need to try hard to guess which one plays which; one of the many reasons why you wonder why was this movie even made. Everything about it has been done before and in much better ways. Props to Leslie Mann for always adding a very human layer to her characters. Grade *

Style Sunday.

Noomi Rapace evoked old Hollywood glamour in this stunningly simple Giambatista Valli dress. Gotta love how she keeps it so simple in the hair and makeup department and allows the dress to do all the work for her.

Lately I feel that Annie has abandoned me. I miss her in movies and even if she has a ton coming up, she should be in at least a movie a month, no? With that said, I'm not sure if my undying love for her makes me worship her public appearances so much, or this Valentino beaded dress is actually worthy of writing about. You help me decide.

When Naomi Watts gets it right, she gets it right. Even if she always seems to favor nude colors and simple designs, here she proves that sometimes sticking to what you know is the best strategy. This Stella McCartney design just reassures us that Naomi's undeniable sexiness would've made her ideal for that other rumored Marilyn biopic. She exudes class and sensuality with such effortlessness that it's just amazing.

Who of these ladies is your fave?

Style Sunday.

My god is Jessica Chastain lovely. Who the hell knows where she was hiding last year but she's proved herself worthy of future fashion icon appearance after appearance in 2011. This golden Vivienne Westwood is no exception and she compliments the Westwood-esque cuts with a simple hairstyle and nude color heels.

Will someone please get to work on the Marilyn Monroe movie starring Naomi Watts? This simple Stella McCartney pantsuit proves that this blonde needs nothing more than her star wattage to shine.

SJP, those who are about to die from stylegasms salute you. It's become cliché to have the lovely Sarah featured in this column, but really, do I need an explanation? This stunning Stella McCartney dress proves why she is such a remarkable dresser; the craftsmanship of the dress is fabulous and the combination of trends she pulls off so effortlessly just makes one swoon.

Which of these ladies do you think was the best dressed of the week?

Fair Game ***

Director: Doug Liman

Cast: Naomi Watts

Sean Penn

Sam Shepard, Ty Burrell, Noah Emmerich

Bruce McGill, Brooke Smith

Perhaps casting Sean Penn as former US diplomat Joseph Wilson isn't the most subtle way of expressing your film's liberal agenda. Not only is the actor one of the most politically outspoken celebrities in the world, he also has become a universal symbol for portraying tragic heroes who more often than not are screwed by the system they're trying to change.

What continues being remarkable about Penn though is the way in which he makes each of these characters completely his own.

As Wilson, he's the epitome of suburban discontent. When we see him take on each of his dinner parties as if he was taking part in a huge political debate we understand this is a man who has fully assumed the idea that democracy begins with each of us.

It's even a more pleasant surprise when we see him become "human" when he's with his wife Valerie Plamer (Watts). She's a CIA agent who spends half her time traveling around the world organizing top secret missions for the government.

When the Iraq war breaks and Wilson makes it known that after investigating abroad, no evidence of actual weapons of mass destruction were found (which instantly might remind you of Penn's 2004 Oscar acceptance speech), his wife is outed by government officials and their life becomes a harsh "he said they said" game as they face the fact that they have been betrayed by the very system they were trying to protect.

This turns Fair Game into a strange hybrid movie that's one part thriller, two parts domestic drama and a lot of political outrage. In a time when films choose to be so blatantly subtle or encode everything through alien, monster or fantastic metaphors, it's actually refreshing to see a movie that expresses its deep dissatisfaction with the state of the world.

Watts gives yet another electrifying performance, making Valerie a woman who has to choose where her loyalties stand under the eye of the press, the government and family.

Few performers would be able to expose themselves so much without recurring to cheap trickery and mannerisms. Watching the actress as Valerie is watching a testament for the way in which films have always been the most powerful medium of ideas.

You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger **

Director: Woody Allen
Cast: Antonio Banderas, Josh Brolin, Pauline Collins, Anna Friel
Anthony Hopkins, Neil Jackson, Gemma Jones, Freida Pinto
Lucy Punch, Naomi Watts

Throughout his filmography, Woody Allen has been characterized for delivering existentialist meditations filtered through comedy and relationships, yet even his darkest movies have been characterized by something that resembles hope. Yes, even in something like Interiors, we find ourselves finding that there's always more than meets the tragic eye.
It's a surprise then to find the master feeling so jaded in You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger. And it's not that feeling of bitterness itself what makes the film fail where other of his works have blossomed, it's just that it feels more like a work in progress than an actual film.
For all the plot twists, winks at some sort of divine justice and quips Allen inserts here, there's also an unintentional sense of disconnect within the characters who this time merely seem to become puppets in a convoluted plot that doesn't know where it's going.
The plot is quintessential Allen, a series of interconnected characters all trying to find their way in the misery of life.
We first meet Helena (Jones) a woman who has just been abandoned by her husband (Hopkins) who ends up marrying former prostitute Charmaine (Punch). Heartbroken, Helena begins to visit a fortuneteller (a delightful Collins) who begins to fix her life.
Helena's daughter Sally (Watts) has developed a crush on her employer (Banderas who curiously isn't the stranger from the title) while her husband (Brolin) tries to get out of his writer block by spying at their sensual neighbor (Pinto).
Allen's dialogues are fascinating as usual, even if sometimes the quips sound forced and cold and while it would be easy to say that any Allen is better than most things playing out there, the truth is that this film in particular shows that as a writer some of his tricks don't work as they used to.
For all the charm contained in the fact that his characters still say things like "erotic" and study musicology sometimes his lines feel derivative. This movie would've been aided by the use of silence and restraint.
If Allen fails a bit, his actors are mostly fantastic (even if this cast doesn't particularly fit together). Brolin broods marvelously and reaches a level of dishevelment that's an act upon itself, while Watts should get an award for being the actress who reached the lower depths of selfdeprecation in films this year. When she confronts a character to ask him if he ever fathomed the idea of falling in love with her, she asks it from a place of such pain that your heart will be broken along with her character's dignity.
It's interesting to see that when it comes to the two central characters in the film Allen pretty much redoes Interiors.
Jones as the resentful wife gives a layered performance filled with the over the top theatrics muffled by her sensitive British comedic timing, it's like watching Blance Dubois being played by Helen Mirren's version of Queen Elizabeth.
Then there's Punch who proves that nobody writes a hooker with a heart of gold like Woody does. Sometimes she comes off looking as an inferior version of Mira Sorvino's character in Mighty Aphrodite but even in cliché Punch finds an odd sense of beauty. Watch her act next to Hopkins, while he tries a bit too hard, she flows effortlessly like a skanky Eliza Dolittle.
It's the cast that make this stranger more alluring than he has any right to be.

Mother and Child **

Director: Rodrigo García
Cast: Annette Bening, Naomi Watts, Kerry Washington
Samuel L. Jackson, David Morse, Shareeka Epps, Amy Brenneman
Marc Blucas, Jimmy Smits, Cherry Jones, Elpidia Carrillo
S. Epatha Merkerson, David Ramsey

There is something about Rodrigo García's vision of women that feels both spot-on and terribly, terribly cliché.
At times his characters achieve an intense melancholy and feel so lived-in that it's completely annoying how seconds later he forces them to deliver elaborate dialogues that make them sound like they've just arrived from Peyton Place.
In this case his screenplay centers on the relationships between mothers and children. We have Karen (Bening) a middle aged woman whose life was marked by the fact she gave up her daughter for adoption almost forty years before. This has made her cold and so afraid of people that she doesn't know how to respond to the attentions she receives from a new coworker (Smits).
Elizabeth (Watts), the daughter, is a successful attorney who uses sex as an asset and the fact that she was abandoned as an excuse to have no attachments. "I don't have expectations to fulfill" she tells her new boss (Jackson) before she begins an affair with him.
Then there's Lucy (Washington) a woman contemplating adoption given she can't have children of her own. This complicates her marriage since her husband (Ramsey) is reluctant to raising a stranger.
The film unfolds like something González Iñárritu would've made as we see how the three parallel stories eventually converge into one massive, tear-your-heart-out conclusion.
What fails in Mother and Child is that because of García's need to be poetic (usually highlighted by his elaborate camera moves and unrealistic dialogues) we never really think there's an emotional peak coming our way.
We are usually left wondering what will be the climax and this doesn't mean there's some sort of mystery going on, it's just that the director sometimes even forgets some of the stories he's telling.
There's a massive disconnect in Lucy's story especially as we see the other two women move forward in time and she's stuck in the same episode (that or either a freakishly long pregnancy from a mother to be played with charming confidence by Epps).
The movie is saved because of the performers. Bening provides beautifully nuanced work and it's a wonder to see her because the plot first tries to turn her into Charlotte Vale from Now, Voyager yet the actress finds a way to move past this extremely melodramatic mood and by the movie's end she has bloomed into a full blown human being.
Bening is stuck with some preposterous scenes where she writes letters to the daughter she has never met, any other actress would've turned these moments into exaggerated postcard moments, Bening though seems to know there's an awful amount of silliness to them and performs them like a duty, which gives her character a natural quality impossible to judge.
Watts is good but the film under uses her and turns her too much into a femme fatale (Elizabeth would've been played by Glenn Close in the 80's).
The film's revelation is actually Washington who is able to do so much with so little. Her character disappears for rather long amounts of time and we find ourselves wondering what is happening to her, more than anyone else in the film.
The manner in which she completely gives into Lucy is remarkable. She is able to embody sexuality, despair and intense warmth without recurring to cheap dramatic tricks. In a particular scene as she wonders how to deal with a baby's needs she screams "who the fuck does she think she is?" and this is perhaps the only moment in the entire film where we fully grasp what it's like to be a mother.
The pain, confusion and relentless patience that comes with motherhood isn't really easy to convey or to understand and Washington does this with effortless grace.
Mother and Child often feels rushed, despite García's languorous directing and it's fair to think that it might've worked better in serial form where we could've gotten to know these women more and understand some of their rash decisions.
Cinematic form turns it into an obnoxious condensed soap opera that never does justice to the larger themes it wants to study.

Sheet-y Saturday.

Where we take a look at posters for upcoming features.


Anne Hathaway is getting all sorts of awards buzz for a performance people haven't even seen but with each passing day Love and Other Drugs looks more promising.
If not just take a look at this delightful poster that puts any recent rom-com sheet to shame. The color palette is delicious and even it makes no secret of the fact people are dying to see this because Jake Gyllenhaal and Annie are rumored to be naked all the freaking time.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with sex and it's refreshing to see a studio sell a movie based on purely carnal desires.
Some might complain we aren't seeing too much and the poster could've been somewhat bolder but anything featuring Annie's million dollar smile makes me a happy camper and did you see the size of Gyllenhaal's foot?


Apparently our previous complaints were heard and someone went and fixed the Fair Game poster. The results are not entirely better but at least this time Sean Penn seems to know what movie he's in.

Sheet-y Saturday.

Where we take a look at posters for upcoming features.


Today we have two examples of how to do the poster for an adult thriller. One of them's bad, the other's simply outstanding.
First up is the lazy, lazy Fair Game design. I'm really interested in this movie but the marketing team seems to want to make me look elsewhere. First up was that by-the-numbers trailer that made the plot seem like a Lifetime drama and not the actual, too amazing to be real, spy story it is. Now there's this lackluster poster that seems to have been made by the kind of person who had trouble staying inside the line when coloring as a child (those titles couldn't be less symmetrical if they tried! It's impossible to read what this poster has to say with words everywhere!).
Then there's the fact that the actors seem to be in completely different movies. Naomi Watts seems to be auditioning to play Matt Damon in a Bourne poster (not coincidentally Doug Liman directed this and the first Bourne installment) and Sean Penn seems to be still playing Harvey Milk.


Next we have this incredible design for, wait for it, the new Paul Haggis movie.
That was enough of a surprise for me before digging into the richness of the poster and how it plays with the "movie star floating head" in an unexpected way. Reminds me of that poster form Premonition with Sandra Bullock's face made out of branches.
Excellent all over.

Seen anything interesting in your theater lobby?

Are All Aussie Actresses the Same Person?

...or is it just me?

Black and White: Naomi Watts.

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The lovely Ms. Watts rocked the Cannes red carpet in two quite polar looks.
First in white for the premiere of Fair Game in what I'm assuming is Armani Privé.


Next for a film screening in simple black (designer to be found) for the premiere of Biutiful.

Which do you prefer?

Before I Have to Move On...

I promise this is the last Penélope picture I post this week, I found this one and I just loved her smile so much that I had to share with everyone else.
So, browsing through IMDB today I read the following news.
First of all, interesting that they're shooting this new film so little after the vastly underrated "Nothing But the Truth", which came and went with few, if no, notices in the rush of awards season.
Can it be a "Capote", "Infamous" situation? And if so could this put Naomi Watts in the game again? Watts is, again, a very underrated actress, she's been nominated for an Oscar one single time and arguably deserved nominations for "Mulholland Drive", "The Painted Veil" (although 2006 Best Actress was just too flawless...) and especially for "King Kong".
Kate Beckinsale got a few mentions for her masterful work in the Rod Lurie film, but the movie was just "inspired" by true events, while the Watts' project is the "real deal".
Awards people just love biopics so let's see how this goes.
And then Woody Allen with that cast!
If he gets Penélope to a place even as remotely as good as he did with "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" I'll probably explode from excitement.
OK now that awards season is over tomorrow we must resume "normal" writing, I had to give up on a big project I had for the whole year (an homage of sorts to the 70th anniversary of some of the greatest films ever made...) but I'll be sure to squeeze some of it at some point.
Tomorrow expect reviews for "Coraline" and "He's Just Not That Into You".

Funny Games ***

Director: Michael Haneke

Cast: Naomi Watts, Tim Roth

Michael Pitt, Brady Corbet, Devon Gearhart

Married couple, Ann (Watts) and George (Roth), leave on a holiday to their lake house with their young son Georgie (Gearhart).

Shortly after arriving, two young men by the names of Paul (Pitt) and Peter (Corbet) arrive at their door. They come to borrow some eggs and after a bizarre shift in their behavior they take the family hostage and make a bet: that all members of the family will be dead in less than twelve hours.

What sounds like the premise of your average gore thriller (and probably should sound just like that...) is in fact an explosive study on the nature of violence in the media.

Helmed by the visionary Michael Haneke, this is one of those films that completely divides an audience; you either love it or loathe it.

Making a shot by shot remake of his homonymous 1997 film, Haneke proves to be the kind of filmmaker who decides that when you watch one of his movies you won't be able to get it out of your head (whatever the reasons are).

"Funny Games" is the kind of teasing, brutal spectacle that works both as a genre picture (surprisingly most of the shocking violence here occurs offscreen, proving just how more sadistic the human imagination can be) and as a more artistic treatise.

When the first one was released, it was a time appropriate exploration on how insensitive we have become to violence. The title is both a nod to the torture Paul and Peter subject the other characters to, as well as our own voyeuristic involvement in the whole deal.

Haneke was once quoted as saying that "if you leave the theater you don't need this movie, if you stay you do", his intention seems to be one of preoccupation towards the amount of psychological disturbances his audience can be put through.

But then if this is the case, why bother making a film like this and expect the audience to just walk out of it?

And even more adequate for our times, why would someone go and remake the same film they made a mere decade ago?

The one thing you can't argue about the film is the brilliance of its performers. Watts is hypnotizing, the way her suburban discomfort is followed by a complete mental destruction while layering it with strokes of maternity, slightly awkward sexuality and guilt have to be seen to be believed.

While the usually overpowering Roth completely changes your vision of what he can do, the idea that a few years ago he would've been perfect for one of the torturers might cross your mind.

While Pitt and Corbet become real demonic minions; the actors, who might prove to be the most threatening baby faced thespians this side of McCaulay Culkin, have the ability to haunt your nightmares after this.

Haneke has never been one for subtlety (could there be a clearer metaphor for his accusation as when he implies that we literally open the door to violence?), but what the film lacks in teasing abilities, it more than fulfills with complex brain food.

That he constantly breaks the fourth wall, making the experience more "interactive" is pure wickedness and that he sometimes refuses to move the camera might feel like those times when as kids we were sent to "think about what we did" in the corner.

He treats us like the children who erred, like the adults who should know better and like the kids who chose to become these adults.

Perhaps thinking as an idealist, Haneke assumed that the first film would guarantee a mind shift in our doings, but ten years later, the world is doing worse than ever.

Is the fact that this is an American production a direct nod to the Iraq War? (Films rarely invite to hold such discussions afterwards...).

"Funny Games" often feels like playing hide and seek. The twist is that you don't really know the part you're playing, but you can't help but embrace the challenge.