Saturday, February 18, 2023

Great, Good, Fair, or Amusing: A Few Recent Films

 
Living

A "gentleman" bureaucrat, Rodney Williams, circa 1953, facing a serious medical prognosis, realizes that he's never "really" lived, and decides to do something about it. Trouble is, he doesn't quite know how. But this film isn't your average madcap exercise in better-late-than-never carpe diem nonsense. Bill Nighy was nominated for a Best Actor Oscar for his portrayal of the tight-lipped central figure, and the film wouldn't be much without him, but the entire production is sophisticated, from the use of squarish 35-millimeter color stock, which looks to have been discovered in a deceased WWII documentarian's trunk, to the office staff's nuanced display of petulance, deference, and diffidence in maintaining the buttoned-up atmosphere over which Mr. Williams has held sway for years. But Aimée Lou Wood, in the role of the good-hearted office secretary, also plays a crucial part in the unfolding drama. Brilliant.

The screenplay, by Kazuo Ishiguro, also received an Oscar nod. I saw the Akira Kurosawa film on which it's based, Ikiru, many years ago. I hardly remember it, but I liked the recent version better, perhaps because the appeal of the film is based so much on nuances of facial expression and tone of voice. Kurosawa's most popular films feature Toshiro Mifune, a vigorous actor who makes Jack Nicholson look like a wallflower. Takashi Shimura, the star of Ikiru, is a far more sedate and enigmatic figure. 


 Turn Every Page

What could be more fascinating than a documentary about an editor and his client, a hard-working biographer whose door-stopper-sized books come out at infrequent intervals? Nothing, if the editor is Robert Gottlieb and the biographer is Robert Caro. Gottlieb's daughter made the film, which helped. Both men turn out to be somewhat different—more humble, gracious, idiosyncratic, and interesting—than one might expect. A variety of commentators appear briefly, from Ethan Hawke and Colm Toibin to the New Yorker's David Remnick and Mary (Comma Queen) Norris. One of many highlights is when Caro recounts how he tracked down the political operative, in a trailer home in south Texas, who provided the fake votes that elected LBJ to elective office for the first time. Another is the effort made by Toibin to convey how important the semi-colon can be to maintain is certain breathing rhythm in a sentence. Gottlieb personifies the sympathetic yet no-nonsense editor, and he describes his relationship with Caro well. The love of books is everywhere. So, also, is the conviction that what books reveal can make a difference.  


Good Night Oppy

This documentary about the 2003 NASA mission that sent two rovers to Mars is full of wonderful bits. Though we've seen many of them before, it's fun to see them all lined up in a row, along with a narrative thread about the project and personal stories of the engineers and scientists involved intermixed with maps, reenactments, and genuine footage from Mars. The two rovers, Opportunity and Spirit, were designed to operate for 90 days. Spirit kept going for almost fifteen years. One unexpected turns of events was that the ferocious dust-storms on Mar, far from undermining the physical integrity of the rovers, actually proved to be beneficial, wiping away the sand and dust that would otherwise have rendered the solar cells useless. 


 Aftersun

An atmosphere of melancholy hangs over this Scottish film, which depicts a vacation taken by a young girl and her father at a Turkish resort by means of commonplace holiday events interspersed with  random videos taken by the girl herself. Her parents are divorced, and her dad, though good-natured and affectionate, seems to be struggling with demons we never learn much about. He practices tai chi, gives his daughter quite a bit of latitude to play pinball with strangers much older than her, and never really comes alive except on the dance floor. The few scenes of the woman as an adult tell us little about anything, and viewers are likely to leave the theater disappointed. Paul Mescal received an Oscar nomination as the listless dad, though I don't quite see why.   

II. Matinee Fare

The Fablemans

Steven Spielberg has made quite a few popular films. Jurassic Park, Close Encounters, E.T. I can't remember them all. But few have approached greatness. True to form, The Fablemans is a matinee diversion with high production values but little depth. I enjoyed it. Anyone who sees it will enjoy it. But no one will be gripped by it. Throughout the film I kept thinking of other films that did the same things better, made similar scenes seem more real: Licorice Pizza, A Serious Man, Little Miss Sunshine, Ladybug. It's worth noting that Judd Hirsch received an Oscar nomination for a bit part as the family's estranged and embarrassing  uncle. He's the only really interesting character in an otherwise sad and sweet but  "milquetoast" film about a shy kid who turns to film-making as a means of escape from  things, including the slightly weird dynamics of his family life.


See How They Run

This semi-comical period mystery works largely as a result of Saoirse Ronan's wry performance as the unwanted rookie side-kick to Sam Rockwell's world-weary alcoholic detective. Free of the excesses of the big-budget Knives Out series, it putters along a notch or two above the standard PBS Agatha Christie fare.  It would be hard not to like it.


Knives Out: Glass Onion

We've gotten used to Daniel Craig's bad Southern accent, which, to be fair, is better than Lawrence Olivier's accent as Big Daddy in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. And the mystery is intriguing. It's a star-studded, extravagant, corny, and ridiculous romp.

 

 

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