Citizen Twain - Reaction (and a Dream Come True)

So, for those of you who don't know. I'm the biggest Val Kilmer fan out there. I own his entire filmography on DVD.  Val Kilmer has been my hero since I was about 8 years old. I saw the Ghost and the Darkness and it became my favorite movie, and has remained a personal love. I watched him in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, and the gag reel, and thought they looked like they were having so much fun, I had to try that out. And I did. I enrolled in an acting class and most of you know the rest. I've acted in over 15 shows the last 5 years. I've starred in several, and produced a couple that I'm very proud of. And I'm not even close to getting started. Acting changed my life. It allowed me to discover who I was as a person, gave my life direction, and finally allowed me to define my identity in a word: Actor. So thanks for that Val.

Anyway, he's been developing a film about Mark Twain and Mary Baker Eddy for the past decade, which he has written, will direct, and will star as Mark Twain. I've been following it for the past 3-4 years since the preview was put on Youtube.

It's been a long slow process. But the last year things have really picked up. Val was ready to make the movie, but realized he hadn't spent enough time developing Twain as an actor, since he'll be too busy directing to take actor breaks. Which  lead him to the conclusion that the only way to discover Twain is to do him on stage. Acting is a funny thing.

After a year of previews and workshops, Citizen Twain finally hit the road, and to my delight, the second stop was the not too distant city of Dallas. I scooped up my ticket, and one for my lady friend, and almost peed myself when the option for a VIP ticket, that came with a meet and greet with my all time hero Val Kilmer was presented. I of course purchased it.

I got to Dallas and the theatre was gorgeous. The Wyly is a really cool looking building, in a happening part of town. I walked the area and people-watched quite a bit (I was unsurprisingly early). Once inside I hit the merch table immediately. I purchased a photo for Val to sign, a tshirt with the poster on it, the poster for the show, and a short documentary that gave a little glimpse into the rehearsal process. Anything to watch Val working on the craft.

So the doors open and we're inside. The set is simple, the 3d mapping a cool touch, as starts whiz by. I'm in the third row. Not 10 feet away from the stage. Dead center. Perfect seats.

I'm waiting, thumbing through the program, the pronounces production of the film will commence once Val, "gets the dough." Should've saved that Red Planet paycheck. It's about 10 minutes until curtain, when I spot the creme colored suit out of the corner of my eye. Then the crazy white wig. It's VAL (Mark Twain). He comes out into the audience (a small black box that seats about 450 (says an usher) there is about 400 in attendance) and begins to mingle. Puffing on a cigar, sipping a fifth of whiskey, he proclaims that he's lost. Hobnobs about, toasting with excited guests. I could've grabbed his ass at one point. He's hurrying stragglers to their seats. I'm lit up like an xmas tree. Most of the audience hasn't even noticed, or don't recognize him.

He then hits the stage. There I am, watching Val Kilmer. Act. In front of my eyes. "I apologize if you're having trouble hearing me in the back," he croaks in a phlegm ridden Missouri twang, "I'm dead." The audience guffaws in unison. I'm sold.

What follows is a most interesting experiment written, directed, and performed by Val. It's somewhere between a stand up show, and a stream of consciousness monologue in which Twain cracks one liners about politics, cat food, and whiskey. He also provides commentary on god, slavery, death, and family. He reenacts scenes from Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn as if they were anecdotes.

The premise being that Twain's ghost has been sent back by god (Twain's foot must be in his mouth upon that meeting) to apologize to Mary Baker Eddy and finish his autobiography. Eddy is the founder of Christian Science (Kilmer is a christian scientist) whom Twain was obsessed with, jealous of, and in a way akin to. He wrote a book about her. His worst. He called her a crook. And a genius.

Twain's autobiography set out to both tell Twain's story (as they tend to) and but also, Twain felt anything that popped into his head was him. So he included that too. Which allows some understanding into the structure and writing of the show. What could be seen as unfocused and damn near schizophrenic is actually an attempt to bring that style of writing to life.Viewed through that lens it is a success.

The first act of the show plays like a standup comic. The show uses something like 50% Twain's writing, and 50% Val. It's all interspersed and it's hard to tell where one ends and the other starts. The 3d mapping in the background provides laughs and visuals to accompany the story. It's a nice touch to give the whole thing some pop.

At one point Val accidentally spilled his whiskey where he needed to sit continuously through the show. Which was fun for me to see, because I could see his actor wheels turning on how to deal with the problem in character. Mopping up with prop newspapers, checking nonchalantly, all the things I did when I spilled a beer in "Tape." It's fun to see the gods you worship humanized before you, and see they do what you do. As an aspiring actor I was enthralled. He ended up pulling an audience member on stage.

The reenactments of the stories were fun, providing some pathos, and the feeling that you're listening to an uncle that can't do without an anecdote. The nature of the show allowed Val to break the fourth wall, and play with the audience, which was fun and intimate. And as the third act drew near, the show takes a somber turn, and was the biggest draw for me.

As Twain talks about god, the 3d mapping treats us to a Tree of Life-esque montage of stars, as Twain says god is too big for blasphemy, he is above it, or too small, and beneath it. Twain comes to the end of his life, where tragedy struck three-pence, with his daughter, wife, and youngest daughter all dying within a year. Twain died the next. He also never wrote following the Christmas eve passing of his youngest, who drowned in the bathtub of an epileptic seizure, Val's teenaged brother dying of the same cause in the pool (my brother and mother both battled epilepsy). All that's left to comfort Twain are the words, the humor. But he can't write anymore. Real humor is tragedy.

Needless to say Val was spectacular. Unrecognizable as Twain. He's still a theater actor, acting with his whole body. The shuffled walk, the gestures, the fine nuances in his face, as he puckered his lips as a tick, licked his lips like an older man. Not the finest hint of the man beneath. Accent never faltered. I was inspired and blown away to see the person I think is one of the greatest living actors do it, and from that close, and be that good. It was something I'll never forget.

Applause sounded. The show was over. I started the standing O. No way was he not going to get one. The crowd loved the show. Val stayed on to have his makeup removed and take questions. To see him transform back was truly remarkable. The questions were stuff that had mostly been answered before. I wanted to ask him the difference in preparation and feeling of stage vs film acting, but got looked over. A man said Twain was more of an atheist than Val's interpretation suggested. Not a stretch. Val countered that Twain was always searching for something. And Val didn't pull punches from religion in the show, but just the fact that god had sent him back was maybe too much for the fellow.

Makeup being removed.

But now it was time to meet him. I jumped into an elevator with about 30 other people and went up. We waited in line as Val got cleaned up. My hands were shaking. I chatted with a couple ahead of me. People were surprised by how much they liked the show. Val came in. He brushed by me. There he was. Him again. It was surreal. He's my height. I imagine meeting Tom Cruise is underwhelming with the height and all. He looked great. Reports of the 80 pound weight loss were true. He looked in a daze, tired, but cheery. A lot like I am post show. Coming out of character, trying to find yourself, exhausted.

I learned there was no professional photographer, as there had been at the LA show. What we had was all there was to take a picture. A phone in my case. I thanked the world's deities I hadn't killed the battery. The couple before me heard my plight, and offered to take pics with their camera for me as well. They have since sent them to me. Very kind gesture that I appreciated infinitely.

I finally made it to the front. I'd spent a week thinking about what I would say, what I settled on wasn't exactly revelatory, but appropriate I thought. I shook his hand (hands aren't as big as mine, weird the things you remember) and said hi. I gave him my photo for him to sign. To David I said. I told him that he was my hero, and that I'd become an actor because of him, and that watching him act was truly inspiring, and I'd hoped to do the next show I did as good as he was, and how amazing it was to see him act in real life, on stage, like I have. He said wow and thank you, and we posed for some pictures. There was a line, so that was all I got. As I walked away, I glanced back and caught a look from him, just the mischievous grin he wears, as we made eye contact, and I continued on. A brief, and as I describe it to someone else I realize not that amazing, but to me a dream come true. The whole affair, the night, the show, was something I'll never forget.

My next goal; to act with Val Kilmer. I want to be in that Mark Twain movie. I'll act for free. I'd act on stage with him. I'd pay to be an acting student. That'd be something....

Val says he'll be touring for the next 3 years, as that's how long it'll take to raise the money to finance the film. Here's to hoping I'll get to see it again. And if you get the chance so should you

Bang and Burn - 4/9

Interstellar goes Catshit Crazy

We're crying too...

Christopher Nolan has a habit of working with a small troop of actors, and that will likely continue as the cast of Interstellar, the Batman director's next feature, begins to take shape. Although, it is my solemn duty to report that instead of Tom Hardy, Cilian Murphy, Leo DiCaprio, Jo Gordon-Levitt, Ellen Page, Marion Cotillard, Liam Neeson, Gary Oldman, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale, Scarlett Johansson, Heath Ledger (oops), Al Pacino, Robin Williams, or even MF'in Tom Berenger returning, we get Anne Hathaway, who is set to return and costar with Matthew McConnaughey in Interstellar. The worst part of Batman (yes worse than Katie Holmes) is back to be overrated some more. Nolan has always struggled to cast female parts well in my opinion, and he keeps that streak going.

Matt Damon's Bald Plugged in Head is Here to Kick Ass and Chew Bubble Gum

And all the bubble gum is on the moon

Despite the trailer revealing nothing but the fact that much ass will be kicked, Damon looks good with a bald head, Jodie Foster is still a cold witch, and Bloomkamp can film some bad A action, I'm still excited. I know this will have some searing political commentary, and after other films have failed to really provide decent commentary on our times, and be a good film simultaneously (I'm looking at you In Time) I have no doubt Bloomkamp will deliver.

Hercules is Like a Rock

Agent: "Yea Dwayne, Brett Ratner is directing"

Brett Ratner has found a star for his next craphole of a film, Hercules, which exactly nobody was asking for, since Kevin Sorbo isn't involved. No word if Xena will be joining the action (but god I hope she is). While we're all glad that Dwayne "Don't call me the Rock" Johnson is back to doing action instead of kids movies, well... actually, yea, this is probably exactly what we had in mind.

I Like My Coffee Black, with a hint of Chestnut

0 - The amount of people I take seriously named Chestnut

Morris Chestnut is being linked to the role of Black Panther, which Marvel decided not to include in Phase 2, because they're pretty sure 2 black people in the entire universe is enough. But reportedly, despite no solo film (despite being totally worthy of one) the Panther may appear in Avengers 2. Because that cast isn't big enough yet. I've been a vocal advocate of Dijmon Honsou, who is an Oscar nominated very capable actor, and actually African. Also has real screen presence, while Chestnut (that damned name) is a Tyler Perry veteran. Excuse me while I vomit.

Jane's Got a Gun... and if She Were Smart, She'd Use it on Herself

*whisper* "Are you sure the contract says I have to be in this? What if I choke to death on this food? I know it's soup dammit!"

The latest catastrophe in the Jane's Got a Gun saga is that Bradley Cooper has made the mistake of replacing Jude Law who replaced Michael Fassbender in the western starring Portman that was to be directed by We Need to Talk About Kevin's director Lynne Ramsay, who was replaced by Gavin O'Connor (Warrior) 4 days before production was to start. 

...and that's it, so here's this Val Kilmer fun to end your day

Wreck-It Ralph

Wreck-It Ralph

Grade: B

Despite owning Pixar, Disney just can't seem to replicate their genius. Wreck-It Ralph is as close as they've come, and it is arguably better than Pixar's Brave (which may be no coincidence that it is their first film Post Disney (re)take over). Ralph is enjoyable, but never manages to establish the undercurrent of real emotion and pathos that a Pixar film has going. Not to mention they squander a golden opportunity to really have fun with the video game setting, by only allowing Ralph into two games. I needed a montage of in jokes and pop culture video game references. Seriously.

Ralph is an unappreciated villain of his video game that has been operated in the arcade for some thirty years. The setup is very similar to Toy Story, in that once the kids leave, the games come alive and have lives of their own. However, no kid laid in bed thinking that the games played without him like they do about toys. Ralph sets out to prove he's more than just a bad guy, after the highlight of the film that is the opening scene, which is Ralph at a bad guy support group. All the characters and their interaction, as well as the inside jokes about their behavior was a gift to a geek. Then they mostly dropped it.

The film is funny, in a weird way that it blends the over joking of the Will Ferrell brand of comedy (Ralph is voiced by Ferrell vet Reilly) and the traditional kids Disney humor. It can sometimes be a little awkward when it doesn't gel. Needless to say, things get complicated and Ralph's journey from just pretending to do a good thing, to actually doing one is solidified. And Ralph is a great character, if a little ape-ish.

But it's just not up to snuff with what my expectations are from being spoiled by Pixar. If I hadn't known who made it, I would've been able to tell you that it was a Disney or Dreamworks project. It is definitely a step in the right direction, and considering Ralph 2 is supposedly featuring a team up with Super Mario, all my dreams may come true. 

One Shot - Mean Creek, Newton Boys

Mean Creek

Grade: B+


A thoughtful, character focused examination of bullying and the consequences of revenge. This folly of youth tale centers around a young boy and his friends, who take a school bully out on a boating trip to play a practical joke on him. When it backfires and is accidentally killed, they are forced to grow up in ways they never expected. An honest look at being a teenager, respectfully written and well acted.

Newton Boys

Grade: C+

A misfire in the career of Linklater, who takes a high stakes dramatic genre in bank robbing cum westerns, and turns it into a breezy lark. No real center or POV is established, and it just moseys along with no real drama or interest. The characters are charming and well acted by a game cast, but Linklater can't stray far enough from his roots. This would've been much better in a more suited directors hands (paging Michael Mann).

One Shot - Little Birds, Loneliest Planet, Jack and Diane, Man with the Iron Fists

Little Birds

Grade: C

A coming of age tale featuring two young girls from the Salton Sea, who journey to LA, and get caught up with some no-good young boys who get in over their heads with crime and cons. Juno Temple continues to do any indie movie that comes her way, and proves to be effective as the devil-may-care half, while her best friend is still young. It's a little boring at times, and takes too long to get anywhere, but it has it's moments.

Loneliest Planet

Grade: F

An exhaustingly minimalistic mediation on nature and the nature of people in relationships. Hardly stopping to develop a character, and when it does they aren't likable, or develop a story, and recycling the same monotonous landscapes and banal pointless dialogue. Avoid.

Jack and Diane

Grade: C-

Juno Temple strikes again (again) in another indie flick, this time a summer romance between two girls (titular characters). This time Temple is the bubbly and naive Diane, while Jack is the clingy hard-ass (oxymoron?). This is also very slow, and tries to mix in this very awkward horror element, for no reason that some film-school level thesis of love being a monster. Or Diane is a werewolf. I don't know.

Man with the Iron Fists

Grade: C-

I usually would write a longer review for a film like this, but I can't think of much nice to say. I love the RZA, and his tutelage under Tarantino and Jarmusch has definitely given him an eye for good shots, and a taste for a floating camera. But his writing (hackneyed) and the editing (first cut was 4.5 hours now 114 minutes) really undermine anything good going on. With a terrible voiceover that amounts to "and then this happened" and "but you thought that was bad, aw naw son" and fight scenes that play like sportscenter highlight reels in which you have no physical idea of what is going on, not to mention poor CGI (that is overused) and you just have a trainwreck of a film. A shame.

Stoker

Stoker

Grade: B+

Directed by: Chan Wook-Park

Starring: Mia Wasikowska, Nicole Kidman, Matthew Goode

Chan Wook-Park arrives with his English directorial debut and make no mistake, this is his movie. That's not to say that the actors aren't good (they are) or the story isn't solid (it's effectively creepy, if a little predictable) but it's his directorial flourishes and borderline showboating that delivers, and almost upends at times, the film. It's interesting that his first english language film would be a gothic tale, a very western hemisphere type of story. If anything, he proves beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he belongs making films on this side of the pond.

Stoker opens fittingly, with a funeral. We see a dark, morbid sort of girl, the kind that Twilight has hijacked and turned into a mushy mess. Wasikowska proves to be a far superior ("surprise!" thought no one) actress that Stewart in this type of role. We see India (Wasikowska) looking distant, her grieving mother (Kidman) and in the distance, a figure, watching. We hear him say hello to India. Who is he? Why is he at India's funeral? He is Uncle Charlie (Goode) and has returned for the funeral after some 20 years abroad. He is magnetic. Sophisticated, good-looking, and charming, nobody can believe he's there. He's actually going to be staying for a while. He seems particularly keen to get to know India, who seems instinctively afraid of him. 

India's mother is all too ready to welcome him, to warm their home, to take her mind off her very cold relationship with her daughter. But all the while, it seems that Charlie has his eyes on India. We follow India to school, where to no surprise she is not exactly popular. But she's no victim either. When a bullying male goes to strike her, she stabs him in the hand with a pencil. She's got a mean streak. The film excels at building these characters and situations, while still maintaining a healthy amount of mystery and intrigue. And as events unfold, and secrets are revealed seemingly much too soon (poor Auntie Gwen never stood a chance), there is still more to come. While this could be too much under a lesser director, Park has a tight grip on the pacing and mood of his film. He won't let there be a lull, even when you perceive there should be one. He keeps tightening the screws.

He allows himself this control by tapping into India's apparent super senses. She can hear, see, and feel the slightest nuances. We hear the squeak and creak of a belt around someone's waist as they move. Whispers under breath. The squish of blood mixed with wood from sharpening a bloody pencil. This hyper-awareness is a bond between her and Charlie, who says he is the same way, and always knew that she would be too. They are meant to know each other. Their relationship grows very strange as Evelyn seems to be falling for Charlie's wiles, but what are his motivations. As he watches India as he caresses her mother, things get complicated. Add in India masturbating in the shower to a murder that happens in the film, and you've got yourself an effectively fucked up gothic tale, that takes the conventions further than they were meant to go.

Wasikowska shines in a difficult role of being cold, innocent, vulnerable, dark, curious, and then dangerous in a turn that feels that way, instead of something that we were just waiting to happen, which would've been the case if too dark of an actress took the role. Kidman is conniving and breathy, and Goode is solid as Charlie, although I didn't see enough of a difference once the character's true nature is revealed. They are all effectively understated, otherwise the film would've collapsed in on itself.

It's not very often we get these Bronte-ish (Wasikowska was also very good in the newest Jane Eyre) dark castle films, featuring a messed up family, and some creepy goings on. Even less frequent that they are done well, and build upon the genre, rather than letting modern trappings undermine the very point of the stories. While the end isn't necessarily where I thought things needed to end up, it's not enough to take away from a stylish film, made by the hand of a craftsman.

Fun fact: Carey Mulligan and Jodie Foster and Colin Firth were originally cast, but were replaced by Wasikowska and Kidman and Goode. A host of young actresses including Kristen Stewart and Rooney mara were considered. As was James Franco and Michael Fassbender.

Sinister

Sinister

Grade: B-

Directed by: Scott Derrickson

Starring: Ethan Hawke

From the makers of the better-than-expected Insidious comes Sinister, another better-than-most scary movie, that while not truly traumatizing or revelatory, is a welcome addition to the much maligned state of modern horror. This follows the same setup as Insidious and relies more on suspense and mood, rather than gore and shock (currently in vogue (e.g. Evil Dead, Saw)). Adding a solid thespian front and center (Hawke, in his first foray into the genre) helps ground the picture and get it away from teeny bopper slasher mode.

Hawke plays a true crime writer, whose first book was a landmark success. And he's been struggling to match that genius since. He moves his family to a new town, because he can't take being a teacher and editing textbooks anymore. He's not exactly a likable character, as it is revealed that he's mostly doing this for the money and fame. He yearns to be lusted after again, and is willing to put his family's safety at risk to do so. Hawke succeeds at playing the prideful and headstrong author, who is also manipulative and a heavy drinker. His wife seems to do nothing but create conflict when it's needed, and the kids are there to up the ante. Needless to say, this particular crime is bigger and scarier than he could've imagined.

The local coppers aren't too kind to hear of the author rolling into town and basically saying they didn't do their job, which supplies some early ominous feelings. And while moving to the town to do research is why they have come to town, let's just say the research hits a little closer to home. Then he finds a box of old "home movies" upstairs. They have cutesy titles like "Pool Party" but upon viewing the harmless title actually reveals itself to be about this child dropping his family into a pool and watching them drown, as they squirm helplessly tied to fold-out sunbathing chairs. Hawke smells gold mine. This is his ticket to the big time. Never mind that creepy stuff happens every time he watches them, and that he is in fact watching them repeatedly.

Things take a turn for the supernatural, and a local prof is brought in to clear things up (lazy writer device) in the Skyping D'Onofrio, who apparently had nothing better to do besides be bearded and sort of eccentric. Extra points for having the gall to give such an ugly ending, although the crazy bits and the true crime nature feel a little at odds to me. It's what a scary movie should be, a little unnerving, ominous, moody, and out there. 

Bang and Burn 3/29

Welcome to the new Bang and Burn series. Where every week I'll be rounding up the best movie news and rumors and throwing in some commentary to boot.

The Wolverine gets it's first full trailer

The trailer looks great. I like the short hair look for Logan, and the tone and feel of the film is definitely different from the rest of the entries in the series. I like that we're left with a lot of questions, and no real antagonist shown. It looks to be more of a character study. And with director Mangold saying it's a japanese noir, and using Chinatown as an influence, hopes are high. And the bullet train sequence looks interesting.

McConaughey goes Interstellar

If you haven't heard, Matthew McConaughey is in the midst of a career renaissance that has him over the moon at the moment. After a decade without a good film, McConaughey has rattled off Bernie, Killer Joe, Magic Mike, and Lincoln Lawyer and is working with Scorcese in Wolf of Wall Street, and what could be an Oscar role in Dallas Buyer's Club, and working with Jeff Nichols on Mud. And Paperboy, he was the best thing about that movie. Short story is holy hell is he back with a vengeance. Now, he could be getting his biggest role of all time with the lead in a Nolan film. I've always been a McConaughey defender, and although he has limitations as an actor, he's still damn fine. And Nolan is known for bringing out the best in his leading men, so this seems like a great pairing. Interstellar sounds like it's going to be a head trip of a film, full of action and hard science. Also with time travel and multiple dimensions, get ready for the Nolan bros to go full fledged on their beloved cross-cutting while writing the script.

Escape from New York Remake

Tom Hardy and Jason Statham are reportedly duking it out over who will get to be Snake. Snake is one of my favorite characters of all time. I can only hope Hardy gets it. Statham will just be Statham as Snake, Hardy is an exciting and inventive actor. And do you remember what Statham looks like with long hair?

Like a child molester...

Disney makes Cars spinoff "Planes" without Pixar.

As if Cars 2 wasn't bad enough we have this. And the main character is voiced by the ever-aggravating Dane Cook. On the bright side, Val Kilmer is voicing a plane with Anthony Edwards, so a Top Gun reunion is happening. 

My film to see this week is Place Beyond the Pines. The new multi-generational crime drama from Blue Valentine writer/director and starring Ryan Gosling and Bradley Cooper.

And here is my Val Kilmer fun of the week...

One Shot - Near Dark

Near Dark

Grade: C

Directed by: Kathryn Bigelow

Starring: Adrian Pasdar, Jenny Wright, Bill Paxton

Before there was Twilight and at the same time there was Lost Boys comes Near Dark. A sort of cult-classic vampire in west Texas tale. It's very 80's, and features a not very interesting lead performance, and doesn't do much to further the genre, but it's a lot like the Lost Boys. Using vampires to sort of be the skeezer, punk kids just having a good time. Throw in a love story and some family drama, and you have yourself a movie.

Killing Them Softly

Killing Them Softly

Grade: C-

Directed by: Andrew Dominik

Starring Brad Pitt, James Gandolfini, Ray Liotta

Killing them by ham-fistedly bludgeoning them to death with an oversimplified theme, is actually the title to this movie. Andrew Dominik must've gotten the words overt, in-your-face, and monotonous confused with subtext, subtlety, and good. It's a baffling, inert, and mostly pointless film that has all the ideas of something that could've been extraordinary. After seeing his (rightly) lauded epic Assasination of Jesse James, where he made a western feel new and interesting, I thought I was in for the same treat for a similarly tired gangster genre. Instead I was given a banal metaphor for petty crime and the american economy, where I can practically hear Dominik screaming from just off camera, "DO YOU GET IT?! DO YOU GET IT?! SEE WHAT I'M DOING HERE?!"

A card game is knocked off in Boston, by some petty thieves who think they're smarter than they are. We are treated to some 15 plus minutes of unnecessary background and exposition to set this up. This robbery is probably the most unpleasant, long, drawn-out, and flat boring robbery I've ever seen on film, it's the antithesis of something like Heat. All the while a presidential candidate is blathering away as the soundtrack, be prepared for this every other scene. Literally. And for shots to come to focus center on a TV, and not the actors, because it's not enough that we're drowning in the words. I also have to look at a TV in my TV of something I wouldn't watch on my TV. Anyway, a mob hitman or fixer is brought in to take care of everyone involved. Enter Brad Pitt. The protagonist (of sorts). Twenty-five (count 'em) minutes into the ninety eight minute film. This is probably where the movie should start since it's the first injection of energy into a dull thus far film.

Unfortunately that energy is immediately wasted by a long drawn out bureaucratic talk with Richard Jenkins who seems to represent the mob as a whole. I get it. It's drab and dull and banal because that's what bureaucracy is like and now the mob is like that and we get it, it's an analogy. That does not make it good entertainment. Or interesting. Or justified. And you come in thinking Pitt is going to get to act, considering Jesse James is his best character and performance on film. Nope. Pitt is rarely the target of the shots, and spends almost the entire movie reacting to less interesting characters. Like Gandolfini's washed up Mickey, who drinks too much and goes on drunken rants, recanting tales of old. Pitt sits looking the way we look. Eyebrows raised in disbelief, that we've been subjected to almost three scenes worth of nothing involving or interesting or relevant, just Gandolfini just rambling.

And if there is a narrative I missed it. I guess he shows up and kills the people. But there isn't any difficulty in doing it. Nor do we feel any particular way about it at all. The only upside to the film is that it has some really brutal violence (though it's unwarranted and seemingly out of place), and a nihilistic feel that makes you wish that was what he was going for instead of political speeches. Dominik also goes over the top with is camera stylings, in particular a scene where a character is high on heroin, and we are treated to the same camera trick over and over so that we get that he's high. Oh and just a few more times, in case you didn't get it. And every character just abruptly leaves. Either killed or just disappears. Like Dominik was writing it and remembered that they were in the story and just needed them gone. 

I'm still startled over just how poorly the whole thing was executed. From conception to completion. It is possible to make a film that skewers your subject matter without in turn becoming your subject matter. If you want to make a scorch-the-earth damnation of the economy and american society, or a nihilistic fuck-all of the gangster genre you can do it without becoming a vacant hole where a movie used to be. The fact is, every movie that has tried to have something to say about the state of things (In Time, Dark Knight Rises) has faltered in doing so. Because they have "tried" to say it, without just making the movie and letting the themes and commentary arise organically. And like it's political figureheads filling the speakers, Killing Them Softly is completely artificial.

One Shot- Charade

Charade

Directed by: Stanley Donen

Starring: Audrey Hepburn, Cary Grant, James Coburn

Grade: C+

A relatively dated Hitchcockian flick, about a widow and a man who may or may not be a flim flam man (favorite synopsis I've ever read). Filled with real thrills, great suspense, and an illogical amount of humor, you can see the trappings of a genre that grew over the decades to come in films like Argo. However, it's no surprise when you know the guy playing the attractive lead can't be the bad guy. That surprise hadn't been invented yet.

Anna Karenina

Anna Karenina

Directed by: Joe Wright

Starring: Keira Knightley, Jude Law, Aaron Taylor-Johnson

Grade: B-

Art imitates life in Joe Wright's new adaptation of the classic Tolstoy work. The pedigree is outstanding with Wright helming a script from Tom Stoppard and an all-star cast to boot, not to mention a high concept design to separate it from a typical period piece. So why was I left feeling a little underwhelmed? It's a solid film from Wright, but it doesn't hold par with his better works Atonement and Pride and Prejudice.

Anna Karenina (Knightley) follows the titular character who is in a loveless marriage to her husband (Law) who couldn't be more distant. When she happens upon a dashing young man (Johnson) her passion is ignited. And against societal rules and customs, and at the expense of everyone around them, and perhaps even themselves, they continue their affair, following it through to the last. Strong themes of jealousy, love, passion, marriage, and Tolstoyan social commentary abound. Can one build happiness on another's pain?

Knightley is luminous as the complex and difficult Anna. She is insecure, indecisive, impulsive, and trapped. We begin the film feeling for her, with such an unfeeling husband what self-respecting women wouldn't choose passion? We feel the Jane Eyre creeping in. However, Eyre, Tolstoy is not. There are great repercussions for this act against god, and Anna doesn't seem prepared for them. She is not so willing to give up the life being married to her husband has afforded her, and face the shame that comes with being a divorcee. As she flip-flops between the two men, our empathy wanes. She goes from trapped and the victim, to a selfish, cold-hearted, emotional tornado that is destroying everything around her and herself. Knightley goes for it with considerable aplomb.

However, she is not propped up the way she should be, and this is mostly Wright's fault. He gets the best out of her performance wise, but here he seems to have fallen in love with his concept of setting the entire film as taking place on a stage. Scenery comes and goes, some is 2D, toy models, and there are backstage areas. And aesthetically, these are all beautiful. The actors and scenes are sometimes performed in a Baz Luhrman-ish overly presentational style which adds considerable thematic interest. Stage lighting, frozen actors, and the choreography of some of the scenes are brilliant. Also, Wright's long tracking dolly shots are here, and the way he segues seamlessly between scenes is breathtaking at times. But this over-stylized production design is in great contrast with what is viewed as the pinnacle of realist fiction. In fact it's a polar opposite.Cognitive dissonance radiates throughout the film.

Knightley is supported by a dream cast, with Law doing his best not to be wooden with such a bore of a character, but who is so earnest and so forgiving that it is he who we end up siding with by the third act. And his cold, arms-length, calculated, distracted disposition that the film's style resembles. Not the hot-blooded passion and overwhelming emotions that Anna grows to experience. In fact as she heats up, the film cools off. Johnson doesn't have off the charts chemistry with Knightley, nor does he smolder like I imagine the character should. 

The subplot of Levin and Kitty's love, the real love, which echoes Tolstoy's views on the matter, is nice, but seems at odds when we break for it, when I'm ready to build with Anna. Levin and his story is also the only story allowed to leave the confines of the theatre, representing the real aspect of love, but it is a jarring effect. Levin is essentially Tolstoy in the film, and is one of the few reasonable characters. But he's basically charisma-less, so doesn't leave the lasting impression he should. 

The film's emotional climax also happens to soon, leaving the last 30 minutes as falling action, so when it leads to the shocking conclusion, there is no proper build. It just sort of happens. Wright takes a sizable chance with such a take on classic literature, and that is to be applauded. And the film is technically brilliant, features a wonderful lead performance, but it just doesn't add up to the sum of its parts. You're left remembering all of the wrong things, like many of the characters, unable to focus and to see what is really important.

Spring Breakers

Spring Breakers

Directed by: Harmony Korine

Starring: James Franco, Selena Gomez, Vanessa Hudgens

Grade: A-

Who would've thunk it? Harmony Korine has made a critical and financial success of a film, without sacrificing any artistic integrity (eat your heart out David Gordon Green). Spring Breakers is by far his most accessible film, and his most fun, a trend he started with his contribution to the 4th Dimension with Val Kilmer. Spring Breakers is a burn it to the ground, scathing satire of the hedonistic pop culture world we live in, and the neon bikini wearing sheep who are doing nothing but imitating what they vaguely think MTV told them to do. But the beauty of it is that it's so brilliantly disguised by Korine's mad cap, hallucinatory avant-garde style, that most of the people who see it who are anything like those portrayed, will only think that it's just badass. Since Korine has freed himself of the dogme 95 rules, and is now playing with the idea of doing something more than just simply provoking his audience, he is showing some real flair.

Spring Breakers is plot-lite, but style heavy. Four college girls want to go to Florida for spring break. The only one that stands out is Disney girl Selena Gomez, because she is given a backstory of being the virginal churchgoer. She will spend most of the movie crying before heading home in the second act. Hudgens is the most vicious, but the other three are more or less interchangeable, that being the point I think. They don't have enough money to get to Florida, so what do they do? Call it quits and stay at school? No, they're sick of seeing the same thing. So they do what any reasonable student would do; they rob a chicken shack with water pistols and a mallet. And that is where it all begins...

In a beautiful continuous tracking shot we see the surprisingly violent robbery take place. Then they're off to spring break. From the opening scene we are presented with slow-mo boobs, beer, and party. A scene of utter debauchery and chaos is created. It's a sort of paradise for the stressed out kids, and indeed for a while it is. They drink, they party, they ride scooters. They're at the beach. Scene after scene, everyone is having such a good time. Until they're arrested at a party that gets a little out of control. Enter Alien. A local drug dealer/rapper bails them out. Played by James Franco covered in tattoos, a platinum grill, and cornrows, this instantly becomes Alien's movie.

And this is where things get interesting. This is why spring break is only a week. The girls talk about wanting spring break to last forever. How they really found themselves. How they wish they could just pause it and live like this forever. Well, Alien is a person who lives like that forever. Played with no interest in self-preservation (I don't think Franco has that instinct) but also without they self-awareness that has been plaguing Franco's work the last few years. It's his best performance since 127 Hours, and top three best performance, along with his character in Milk. Alien is the MTV lifestyle epitomized. He has a 3 minute monologue where he incessantly repeats "Look at my shit" while showing the girls his guns, cash, and other admittedly impressive displays of wealth. He has Scarface on repeat.

Through him the girls learn the true meaning of the repeated-like-a-mantra phrase "Spring break 4-eva." The rob, steal, injure, have sex, get high, drink, and party all day. It's the american dream. The fun never stops. Except it does, and this is where Korine's penchant for prodding his audience comes through. As the "fun" begins to become tiresome, dangerous, and repetitive, so does the film. With lines of dialogue being repeated, layered over the top of scenes reshot from different angles, as the girls lose themselves, so do we lose our grip on reality. Each scene change is accentuated by a gimmicky gun shot or cocking, colors are over-saturated, slow motion, images become distorted. Suddenly naked women become repulsive. A gangstered out Alien sings a Britney Spears song while playing the piano as the girls sing along, holding assault rifles and masked in pink ski-masks. 

It culminates in a scene of violent decadence, as if Korine just wanted to take a shot at the rap music video world. Interspersed with the two remaining girls making confessional phone calls home, saying how they want to be better, reminds me of a comic book I once read. The main character asks, "how do you know you want to be a good person unless you've done the worst thing possible, and then chosen to be good?" These girls have done that, found themselves by losing themselves. And perhaps Korine has as well.

Robot & Frank

Robot & Frank

Directed by: Jake Schreier

Starring: Frank Langella, Peter Saarsgard, Susan Sarandon

Grade: B-

High concept indie films have really found a niche these last few years with movies like Another Earth and Safety Not Guaranteed being two shining examples of what the subgenre is capable of. Robot and Frank arrives as a small and subtle entry into the field, just smart and clever enough to earn merit. As the audience, we bring some preconceptions about humans and their automated pals from films like 2001 and Moon more recently. New ground is not exactly broken, but there is some subtle playing with memory and the loss of it here, that adds an undercurrent of real depth.

Frank is an elderly man, given to bouts of dementia. He can't remember people, restaurants, or exactly what time period it is. His memory is fading, and in the near future, a home is not the only option. A robot caretaker is provided for him by his son (James "Milquetoast" Marsden), who is sick of making the long trip to see him, and the lack of gratitude from a strained relationship doesn't help. See, Frank used to be a high-end cat burglar, and that skill, and the penchant for thieving, seem to be all that has really stayed with Frank.. The robot seeks to improve his health by starting a garden, and preparing healthy food, Frank proclaims he'd rather die eatingh cheeseburgers. Most americans would agree. But after much chagrin, Frank warms up to the robot. They mostly bond by planning heists together.

Frank has a crush on a librarian, whose library is being retrofitted as some augmented reality center. Frank is unimpressed. What he is impressed by, is the wealth of those involved, noting their jewelry at a party. The next heist is on. But there are no clean getaways.

Frank is played wonderfully by Frank Langella, who is a consummate professional, and I was reminded of his performance in Starting Out in the Evening, playing another aging man whose greatness is behind him. Peter Saarsgard was a good choice for the robot, and makes the expressionless little guy lovable (as if he already wasn't). Susan Sarandon, James Marsden, and Liv Tyler don't really impress, with characters sketched out no more definitely than Frank's fuzzy memory of them. His strained relationship with his family is alluded to, and hinted at, but never fully developed as the emotional subplot it could've been.

As the heat catches up to Frank and the robot, Frank is forced to make some tough choices, and finds himself to still be the manipulative angle-player he is. The last act has some unneeded twists, and a tacked on redeeming epilogue that isn't warranted by the scene preceding it.  The wonderful concept isn't quite capitalized on like I would've liked to see, but the dialogue and moments between Frank and his robot are worth the price of admission alone.

One Shot Review - Miller's Crossing

Miller's Crossing

Directed by: The Coen Brothers

Starring: Gabriel Byrne, Marcia Gay Harden, John Turturro

Grade: B+

The Coen Brothers prove their excellence as film makers here, making a crime movie that doesn't have any huge revelation or injection of something new into the genre, just an extremely well-made entry that would put most in its company to shame. Following a number two in a crime syndicate running a small town, who responds to changes by playing the angles and everyone around him. Typical Coen Brothers flare and humor.

Sessions

Directed by: Ben Lewin

Starring: John Hawkes, Helen Hunt, William H. Macy

Grade: A

This crowd pleasing drama follows in the footsteps of My Left Foot and Sea Inside, except it has a little more of a sense of humor along the ride. The movie stands out because of the frankness and honesty in which it deals with sex and sexuality that is very unlike most American films. It is written and portrayed sensitively, featuring a character with an "advanced" sense of humor. Sessions succeeds in large part because of the virtuoso performance of John Hawkes anchoring the entire film, but luckily for him (and us) the film builds from there, rather than relying on him.
Mark O'Brien got polio when he was eight years old, and wasn't supposed to live into his 40s. He attended college, majored in english, is a poet and a journalist. What he does with only control of his neck up, supersedes what most do with their entire bodies. It's a cruel world. Mark is a religious man, otherwise who would he have to blame all of this on? He confides in his priest and friend (Macy) who listens with empathy and an ear that extends beyond the confines of catholicism. Mark is approaching his "used by" date, and he knows it. A poet and a romantic, he longs to have sex (and perhaps love). He begins meeting with a sex surrogate.
There is a difference between a surrogate and a prostitute. Helen Hunt arrives with a questionable Boston accent, and begins seeing the severely disabled Mark. He can only live outside of the iron lung for 3-4 hours at a time. The sessions begin rocky, but they quickly develop a chemistry. The thing with Mark is he is whip sharp, and has a wicked sense of humor. You can't help but love the guy, and knowing your physical body is such a limitation is a crushing sense. As Mark progresses toward full intercourse (he can have an erection) he (like most of us) begins mixing physical expression and emotional attachment, transference, and begins to fall for Cheryl. The first woman to show him both kindness and physical intimacy. The tragic aspect is that she echoes it, despite her best efforts. She is a married woman, in a stale relationship, and Mark sees her, and is there with every fiber of his being.
The film sidesteps a lot of cliches on this road, and deals with its characters sensitively, allowing themselves to follow their journey thoughtfully. It never plays up the emotion, and any uplifting feeling is earned. John Hawkes delivers a performance of real depth, deserving the comparisons to Day-Lewis' My Left Foot. Hawkes physical transformation, the veins popping out of his forehead just to breathe, the breathy northeastern-accented voice, the constant smile, the pained eyes. But he never dives into sentimentality, he plays Mark as a human being. Someone who is smart and has a playful attitude toward life and his predicament, and is on a real journey. Hunt is brave and matter-of-fact in a role that needed to contrast with Mark's romanticism. And Macy steals scenes with the coolest priest this side of DeNiro in Sleepers.
Most American films wouldn't show a woman in her 40s naked, wouldn't talk about sex in such unsexy ways. It's a real pleasure to see something so sensitive and honest toward sex and disability, and in the same movie, while mixing in some religion, it seems like an odd concoction. Like Mark, it overcomes. Mark died at 44 years old. A published writer, who enjoyed the love of 3 women in his life, both emotionally and physically. That's more than most of us can say.

Warm Bodies

Directed by: Jonathan Levine
Starring: Nicolas Hoult, Teresa Palmer, John Malkovich

Grade: B

Zombies have served for decades as the perfect antagonist for a story. They require little exposition, no explanation, development, or thought. Here in Warm Bodies we get a playful deconstruction of the zombie mythos, by way of one zombie named R. R is having a bit of an existential crisis. He is still sort of himself, inside his zombie head, but he can't make any sort of human connection with the rest of the dead he's surrounded by. That is until he meets Julie. It's love at first sight. Then he eats her boyfriend (Dave Franco (James' brother, that looks distractingly like him)). The relationship is complicated.

It's far along in the zombie apocalypse and there are not much people left. There is one holdout surrounded by concrete walls in which Malkovich is the leader. His daughter Julie is smart, and a touch rebellious. When her friends are all eaten alive, R saves her, and takes her back to his home. He is sort of the Wall-E of zombies. Hoarding all the little random junk he finds, and narrating the film with cheeky humor, pointing out the large amount of cognitive dissonance found in one with a functioning brain, a nonresponsive body, and a need to eat brains. He manages to croak out a few words, and after some bonding with a hesitant Julie, his heart beats.

Julie doesn't quite trust the zombie, but is perplexed. She makes a dash for it and encounters the bonies. You thought zombies were bad. These guys are (poorly animated) skeletons from zombies who have lost hope (yep, there are a lot of thinly disguised symbolism to come), and they're ruthless. Somehow, the other zombies see the love R has, and don't you know it, love conquers all, even the undead. They head back to civilization, as R munches on leftovers of Julie's ex's brains. This allows him to relive memories he had. When he reveals this, Julie splits.

But the revitalization of the zombies is somehow a threat to the bonies, although I'm not sure how. Anyway it sets up a climax of going after the girl who got away and impending doom. Bodies isn't as a whole, really laugh out loud funny. It's charming, it has its moments, but it's a little predictable both plot and humor-wise. While Hoult makes a good zombie, and a change to a handsome boy, Teresa Palmer is completely luminous as the tough and smart Julie. And Malkovich is surprisingly restrained, given the material. It's no Shaun of the Dead or Zombieland, but if you've become dead to the zombie genre, it'll get the heart beating again.

One Shot Reviews - Birth, Metropolitan, Frantic

Birth

Directed by: Jonathan Glazer
Starring: Nicole Kidman, Danny Huston

Grade: B+

An effectively creepy psychological thriller featuring a bold whisper of a performance by Nicole Kidman. When a young boy turns up claiming to be her dead husband, a young woman is thrown into an emotional tailspin when her heart and head come to different conclusions. Uncomfortable scenes and moments are directed with complete assurance and confidence by Glazer.

Metropolitan

Directed by: Whit Stillman
Starring: Ed Clements, Carolyn Farina

Grade: B+

A one-of-a-kind well-written indie film about a group debutante teenagers in New York. Stillman's dialogue is witty and sharp, walking a fine line without being too precious or intellectual. An idealist meets a group of upscale bourgeoisie kids and falls in with the group. He is introduced to a world of intellectual conversations and well-dressed, classy parties. An odd mix, that manages to be charming, in a movie where people just talk.

Frantic

Directed by: Roman Polanski
Starring: Harrison Ford

Grade: C+

When the master of thrillers and one of the best thriller actors joined forces it must've seemed like a slam dunk. However, Frantic is anything but what it's namesake suggests. Ford, after reading the script, suggested that the title be changed to "Moderately Disturbed" as he felt Frantic was misleading. Polanski was not amused. When a man goes to Paris with his wife, she is abducted, and the man enters a world of intrigue, suspicion, drugs and murder. A not very taut movie that has some decent performances, but nothing to make it stand out.

Paperboy

Paperboy

Grade: B-

Directed by: Lee Daniels
Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Zac Efron, Nicole Kidman, John Cusack

Paperboy IMDB

I never bothered to watch Lee Daniels' Precious. It seemed like too much of a muchness for me, I only have so much sympathy I can have for a character in a bad situation, when you go overboard, you've taken advantage of me as an audience. Paperboy is not any sort of revelation wherein Daniels has found some restraint. In fact, it may go even further. At least here though, it's not in some misguided attempt to make a moving drama. Here, Paperboy, seeks to be nothing but unabashed, unapologetic trashy, sweaty, pulpy and gonzo storytelling that succeeds in at least being so crazy you can't look away.

A journalist, Ward (McConaughey), and his black writing partner (Oyelowo) return to Ward's hometown in racist northern Florida in 1969. His brother Jack (Efron) is there to drive them around as they go trying to prove the innocence of a man on death row (Cusack) in lieu of letters written by a convict lovebird (Kidman). That setup sounds like a journalistic thriller would be on the way, especially given McConaughey's track record with them (Lincoln Lawyer, Time to Kill). That is not the case. What follows is a bizarre story so over-the-top that it's in the stratosphere. There's hardly a through line for the plot, as the screenplay (co-written by Daniels) has little interest in whether or not Hillary actually killed anybody. It essentially is delegated to the backseat and only thrown in occasionally to move some part of the story forward. Daniels is much more interested in creating the sweatiest, most sexually charged atmosphere he can. The story focuses more on Efron's Jack, which is a mistake because Efron, despite his best efforts, is not a leading man. He doesn't have the range, gravitas, or power to make you want to watch him for 90 minutes. His performances are shallow and flat, he maintains a steady distant gaze. There seems to be nothing going on underneath. He falls in love with Kidman, who plays her character as lurid and nasty as possible. She swings for the fences, going overboard at times, but essentially nailing the part.

While Efron is in love, McConaughey's Ward is obsessed with the case, and too bad the film rarely follows him. What we get is a loose sketch of a character who turns out to be a masochistic homosexual with a self-hatred due to his desires. It's an interesting portrait of a man, which McConaughey plays with some mystery and danger. But after his dark side gets the better of him, the case gets away and Hillary is set free. Pardoned because of a story written by his fame hungry partner, without any regard for the truth. Ward is destroyed over the fact. When Hillary gets out, we realize that Kidman's Charlotte and Ward, have made a mistake. Hillary is dangerous. Cusack looks puffy and has a hairdo that would make Nic Cage blush. Mumbling in a thick accent, and looking nothing like someone who would pose any sort of a physical threat to the bigger Efron and McConaughey. Add in a clunky voice over and unnecessary narration by the grating Macy Gray, and you've got a cast whose performances only have sweat in common.

There are incredibly strange scenes in which Cusack and Kidman have a sort of sex from across the room while Efron, McConaughey, and Oyelowo watch on awkwardly. Top that off with a scene where Kidman pees on Efron's face, seeing McConaughey hog tied, and a strange editing style that throws in shots from earlier for reasons that aren't clear or make any sort of symbolic sense.

Daniels definitely has a gift for excess, and encourages his actors to do the same. Subtlety be damned. It's definitely a film that has it's own goals, and shirks a traditional setup. Rumors were Pedro Almodovar was slated to be the original director. One could only imagine how much stranger it would've been if he'd been in the chair. It's a strange experience, and not one I'm sure that I'd want to repeat again, but it deserves to be watched, just so you can believe the rumors.

FUN FACT: Alex Pettyfer was originally to play Efron's character, Sofia Veraga for Nicole Kidman, Tobey Maguire in McConaughey's role. In which case I would've never watched this film.

Late Quarter

A Late Quartet

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1226240/?ref_=sr_1

Directed by: Yaron Zilberman

Starring: Christopher Walken, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Catherine Keener, Imogen Poots

RATING: A-

A Late Quartet uses classical music as a backdrop, and to set the tone, for a familiar indie drama where a group of people manage to make a mess of every aspect of their personal life. The Fugue Quartet has been playing together for 25 years, and now the elder statesmen (Walken) is stepping down due to the onset of Parkinsons. This is the domino that tips, that unravels all of their lives. It's a quiet, classy drama about powerful music and emotions. One subplot too many (mainly a love story) isn't enough to undercut fine performances from everyone.
Hoffman is the underappreciated second chair violinist, who's spent an entire career being the least celebrated member of the quartet, and is married to the viola player, the distant Keener. Mark Ivanir is the anal and obsessive first chair violinist, who has shaped and molded the group to his vision, and more accurately his ear. Hoffman wants to play first chair on occasion, and his wife doesn't support his bid. This throws their marriage into a tailspin, Walken is retiring and his guidance is missed, and Ivanir falls in love with someone he shouldn't. As the personal lives become a mess, the actors get a chance to shine.
Hoffman finds his character coming out of a daze and embracing life and passion in ways he let go of in the safety of marriage and success. And Walken makes good use of some of the most moving writing in the show, using extended metaphors to draw parallels between life and music, between individual playing and being part of a group, sharing the experience. Walken is making interesting choices over the last year or so, taking on dramatic parts and showing the type of actor he can be, instead of playing to the caricature he's created.
The strengths are in the understated acting, which makes the few times the writing gets a little too melodramatic, one scene between Poots and Keener goes a little too far, not helped by Poots also going a little big (but otherwise holding her own), more bearable. It's about masters of a profession working on one of the hardest pieces of music out there, and the similarity to watching three of the most talented actors work on their craft is not lost. It's a pleasure to sit back and watch the characters they've created really come alive in their interactions. The end is incredibly subtle, and quietly resolves issues, circumventing the usual have-it-out for these convoluted life movies. The movie is unexpected and masterful, and is a showcase for these actors to really shine. Bravo.

Twixt (2012)
Directed by: Francis Ford Coppola
Starring: Val Kilmer, Elle Fanning, Bruce Dern, Ben Chaplin, Joanne Whaley

Rating: A+

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1756851/

This is Coppola cum David Lynch. In fact, if this were directed by Lynch it would be hailed as a return to form from the master of the surreal, however Coppola can't seem to catch a break. I've been a big fan of his revitalized arthouse film making, admiring Youth Without Youth, and really loving Tetro. Here he continues the trend with a surreal film right up the Twin Peaks alley. 
It is gorgeously shot, the dream sequences are visually astounding, Coppola playing with blacks and whites, and touches of vivid color, providing a lucid experience. What's more is that this is an extremely personal film for Coppola, with themes of selling out as an artist, losing a child, and confronting failure. After spending the 90s as a director for hire, Coppola has gotten back to making films that are important to him, critics be damned. This has polarized sides over the new direction of one of the greatest in the history of the medium. But with Lucas selling Star Wars and saying he's going back to making movies in his garage (probably bigger than any of our houses) it seems these two who had lost their way, are finding themselves again.
It has some great acting, providing Val Kilmer with is first decent role since Felon, and much to his own surprise, he still has it. He is in turns funny, but also hopeless and adrift. Drunk, tired, and distracted as the bargain basement Stephen King. Kilmer shows he still has the gravitas to carry a film on his back, it's just too bad that it won't be seen enough to provide him the career renaissance he deserves. After he and Coppola nearly worked together a few times over the past 25 years, they finally get the opportunity, and each seems glad to have made it. The supporting cast, especially Elle Fanning, are great, and the costuming and makeup is also a treat.
When Baltimore (Kilmer) roles into town to sign books at a hardware store, the local sheriff ropes him into the haunted towns history. Through a series of strange experiences, and lucid fever dreams (a drunken dream inspired the film) he uncovers the dark secrets of the town, meets Poe, and confronts his long buried feelings. Coppola also plays with meta-storytelling a bit, hinting at Baltimore's own struggles interpreting his dream into a book echo Coppola's, who woke up before the end. Which is going to be a love it or hate it thing... the end. But for me, It's a pleasure to watch something so pulpy, abstract, and full of atmosphere. It's a mishmash of styles, but Coppola gets it to work. Now if only he'd stuck with the original title, Twixt Now and Sunrise...

This behind the scenes still never made the final cut...