Directed by darlings of the "mumblecore" scene Jay and Mark Duplass, 'Cyrus' is an off-beat American indie comedy which stars John C.Reilly as a John, a divorced, middle-aged man who is unlucky in love until he meets Molly (Marisa Tomei) at a party. John and Molly immediately click together and both seem to have found their soul mate. However, Molly has an adult son, Cyrus (Jonah Hill), with whom she retains an uncomfortably close relationship. Jealous of this new man in his mother's life, Cyrus resolves to break the relationship up and send John out the door. With hilarious consequences!
Well that's the idea. The tragedy of 'Cyrus' is that it isn't hilarious. Or even wryly amusing. Trapped somewhere between a high-concept Apatow comedy and a subtle, character driven mumblecore film, 'Cyrus' feels like a film in the throes of an identity crisis. I have no problem with filmmakers mixing genres, but the problem here is that the two disparate sets of influences which seem to lie behind this film actually seem to contradict each other and kill the comedy dead. Reilly and Tomei are quite naturalistic and subtle, whilst Hill gives a more heightened, overtly comic turn as Cyrus - his eyes permanently bulging out of his head as if in a state of constant bewilderment.
The gags themselves don't work with the film's lo-fi aesthetic at all. For instance, there is quite a bit of slapstick (with the characters fighting at a wedding, knocking over furniture) which seems out of place in a film which doesn't feel especially madcap (it's got Catherine Keener is in it for Christ's sake). Another scene sees Cyrus undermining John, as he talks to Molly, by holding up large signs in his eye line. "You're going down", Cyrus openly advertises. Why can't John simply point this out to Molly? Why can't he say "your son is trying to break us up... look, he's holding up a sign that says as much behind your head right now!" This scene wouldn't be out of place in a more self-consciously silly comedy (in fact it might even work as an amusing set piece) but in 'Cyrus' it falls completely flat, undermined by what is otherwise a fairly naturalistic film.
No doubt what I have flagged up as a failing may be the key to why some others find 'Cyrus' interesting and funny. Perhaps you could argue that placing this sort of comedy into a new setting, which sees them underplayed rather than exaggerated, is a comic masterstroke. While it didn't strike me that way, I can certainly see the merits of that argument. But even if I thought the gags and set-pieces in 'Cyrus' worked in this context, I would still argue that they have nothing else going for them. There is not a single original joke in the film. "There is no way I'm going to a party tonight" says John. Guess what the next shot is? Then there is a token embarrassing karaoke scene, mined hard for schadenfreude. There's a scene in which Cyrus plays some of his own terrible electronic music for an awkward John. Isn't that joke stolen wholesale from an episode of 'Friends' circa 1997? The comedy coming from the same disconnect between the musician's earnest intensity and his actual ability?
In the end I laughed twice during 'Cyrus'. Once was when Cyrus opines that John's hair is "like a crippled tree reaching for heaven" and the other time was when I realised John C.Reilly sounds exactly like Fozzie Bear from 'The Muppets'. Otherwise, I admired the performances of Reilly and Tomei and wished that 'Cyrus' could have been worthy of its cast. In its attempts to bring the mumblecore movement to a more mainstream comedy audience, it has failed to be either a comedy or a passable indie drama.
'Cyrus' is rated '15' by the BBFC and came out in the UK back in September.
As a huge fan of animation I have eagerly devoured every one of the Disney Blu-ray releases from the so-called "animated classics" canon* as they have been released. Not especially prudent use of my money, as I already owned them all on DVD, yet the superior treatment afforded to the 50th anniversary release of 'Sleeping Beauty' in 2008 convinced me that they were well worth investing in, yielding new insights into the old classics. As well as being presented in its original aspect ratio (Super Techirama 70) for the first time since it's 1958 release, 'Sleeping Beauty' received a glorious array of extra features, the best of which was a commentary track by Pixar legend John Lassester, film historian Leonard Maltin and veteran Disney character animator Andreas Deja.
What made that commentary so brilliant was its unprecedented level of depth, as it looked at all the circumstances behind the film's production, even including picture-in-picture images which allowed for archive interviews with the film's animators, as well as storyboards and concept art, to be displayed alongside the relevant bits of the movie. Happily Disney followed suit with their next Blu-ray animation titles, investing just as much love and care in 'Pinocchio' and Pixar's 'Wall-E', both of which boasted those same picture-in-picture commentaries (dubbed "Cine-Explore" in the promotional materials).
However, I was really disappointed to find that the same treatment has not been afforded the subsequent releases. Don't get me wrong: 'Dumbo', 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs', 'Princess and the Frog' and 'Beauty and the Beast' have, by any other studios standards, benefited from a decent array of extras and the main feature has been provided in the best possible quality. But the thing about those other commentaries was that they were much more in-depth than the standard director's observations that we usually hear. They contextualised the films they accompanied wonderfully and the picture-in-picture element gave you the chance to see some interesting supporting materials alongside the feature. For example, when being told about the influence of Hieronymus Bosch paintings on Eyvind Earle's designs for Malificent's goons in 'Sleeping Beauty' we were also shown the paintings themselves. To my mind that was the way every Blu-ray commentary should have been done since. Certainly, those features certainly made me less reticent about re-buying films I already own on DVD.
But it seems Disney has its own quite canny and interesting new strategy for converting its customers to the format, eschewing extras as the big selling point. Disney have for a while now been at the forefront of the move to include a DVD with each Blu-ray as standard (they've been doing this since 'Sleeping Beauty' was released two years ago), but earlier this week (when buying 'Beauty and the Beast') I noticed a very clever and hugely interesting new development. With previous releases Disney has put out a cheaper standard DVD version alongside a more expensive Blu-ray version (with DVD included), however 'Beauty and the Beast' is the same price in DVD form as it is in its Blu-ray incarnation. The reason? The DVD edition now includes a "bonus" Blu-ray version of the film! In familiar DVD packaging, standard-def customers are now unwittingly buying Blu-ray.
Many may express anger at this bold move. After all, aren't Disney charging the majority of people extra money for something that they don't want/need? Well, yes. But, as a supporter of that format who hopes to see it take off (and take over) I welcome the move. What better way to move the discs into people's homes Trojan horse style? Of course there is more in it for Disney then just creating a user base for the next generation of home entertainment players. It is also a rather ingenious way of allowing their cherished classics to retain their value in a world where the £19.99 DVD is a thing of the past.
Disney has always been justly protective of these films, re-releasing them and subsequently withdrawing them from stores in an endless rotation designed to keep them "special", and what better way is there to reasonably keep the value of these films up? (And I say this as someone who has paid the full price for many of them more than once.) You never see a Beatles CD on sale for less than £10 for the same reason you never see a Disney classic in the bargain bins: like Apple Corp, Disney just won't let it happen. Just try making money selling copies of 'Men in Black II' once it's been available for 99p (or possibly less). Once you reduce somethings value you reduce it forever. You can't put the toothpaste back in the tube.
Whilst I wouldn't argue too strongly against those who would argue that Disney's keeping these films sacred is chiefly for financial gain (yes, they are a company with shareholders), I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss the idea that the Mouse House is historically run by people with an earnest desire to maintain the company's heritage. After all, in 2006 Disney were rumoured to have paid a huge multi-million dollar sum to acquire the rights to Mickey Mouse's ancestor Oswald the Lucky Rabbit from Universal. Oswald, the first big claim to fame of Walt Disney in his earliest days as an animator, was purchased at the behest of the Disney family (the real family... that wasn't a creepy corporate metaphor) for no other purpose than maintaining Walt's legacy. Whilst Oswald merchandise is no doubt now available, it is not really a big money spinner - at least in the short term - and certainly not enough to offset the cost of buying the rights. You could say Oswald is just Mickey Mouse with longer ears and fewer fans: and you'd be right. But I guess at the corporate level buying him is the equivalent of paying out for the Blu-ray hoping to get that little extra you were missing.
Anyway, I have just sat through the commentaries on 'Princess and the Frog' and 'Beauty in the Beast' and wanted to spout off about it all somewhere. I am super excited by the prospect of the 'Fantasia'/'Fantasia 2000' box set which comes to Blu-ray on Monday - and which will no doubt cost just as much on Blu-ray with a free DVD as on DVD with a free Blu-ray! I am interested to see what form Disney's home video releases take in the next few years, namely on the subject of which titles will be re-released and what sorts of features they will boast (especially in the post 3D-TV era). Whether Disney's new pricing strategy will continue beyond 'Fantasia' and 'Toy Story 3', who knows? Could it continue into releases by other studios? As the format comes close to being half a decade old, surely the next few years are decisive if it's to become a feature of the living rooms of people other than early adopters and obsessive collectors. In summary: I hope more people are persuaded to buy these things so Disney can keep releasing them.
*As a random geeky sidebar: whilst Disney's effort to preserve a hallowed canon has been consistent for years, what actually constitutes an "animated classic" is under almost constant revision somewhere in the marketing department of the home entertainment wing. In the mid-90s predominantly live-action features such as 'Pete's Dragon', 'Bed Knobs and Broomsticks' and 'Mary Poppins' were treated as part of the canon, whilst the 2000 release 'Dinosaur' has only recently begun to be included in the official reckoning - now listed as number 39, with everything from 'The Emperor's New Groove' onwards shifting up a number.
It is not often that homosexuality is presented on movie screens as smartly, as sweetly and as frankly as it is in Lisa Cholodenko's brilliantly acted family drama 'The Kids Are All Right'. The film looks at a modern family headed by two women, Jules and Nic played by Julianne Moore and Annette Bening, and their two children conceived via an anonymous sperm donor. The family are functional, loving and the fact that it is headed by a pair of lesbians is almost incidental. Which is not to say that the film ignores the characters sexuality, but just that the couple's relationship is never exaggerated or patronised by Cholodenko, who also co-wrote the screenplay.
As functional and healthy as they are, the family (like all families) has its problems. The son, Laser (Josh Hutcherson), is in a destructive friendship which is causing him to behave antisocially, whilst the daughter, Joni (Mia Wasikowska), is a straight 'A' student who has recently turned eighteen and is increasingly fed up with her parents refusal to treat her like an adult. Meanwhile, Jules feels taken for granted by Nic, who seems to spend more time working than paying her attention and who even seems to belittle her contribution to the household following a series of aborted business ideas. Nic, in turn, feels burdened by her position as the breadwinner and as the strict parent.
Breaking the relative equilibrium, and bringing some of these background problems to the fore, is the sudden appearance of the kid's genetic father on scene. At the behest of her younger brother, Joni uses her status as a legal adult to make contact with her parent's sperm donor Paul (Mark Ruffalo), who immediately ingratiates himself with most of the family and becomes a regular part of their lives - attempting to become a permanent fixture and establish himself as the children's father. Soon the kids are breaking rules laid down by their parents, whilst Jules becomes rather too close to Paul whilst working to redesign his garden with her fledgling landscaping company.
That plotline and the dynamic between all the central characters isn't exactly virgin territory and you could be forgiven for groaning when the film includes a tired "young-lady-I-forbid-you-to-ride-that-motorcycle" sub-plot, seemingly carried over from any number of trite 90s US sitcoms. But what marks this film apart from more hackneyed fare is the depth of the characters (none of whom are judged by the writing) and the performances of the actors. Each of the characters operates in three dimensions with each of them flawed in their own way. But none are flawed in any way which is obvious and none of the film's conflicts stem from lazy and contrived scenes of miscommunication. The family ring true as a family and it is testament to the great skill of the filmmakers and their actors that the film's brighter moments never feel overly sentimental or cheesy.
Annette Bening and Mark Ruffalo provide the most nuanced and heartbreaking performances, with Ruffalo creating a character of great warmth and charm in Paul where another less gifted actor might have portrayed him as a more outwardly Machiavellian figure. In Ruffalo's hands I was never really sure of Paul's intentions. He is certainly not blameless for any of the events which follow his meeting the family, but there is a touching sincerity in Ruffalo's eyes which led me to suspect his intentions were basically good. Julianne Moore is as raw and damaged as she has ever been, whilst Mia Wasikowska (best known for her title role in the rubbish 'Alice in Wonderland' earlier this year) is an engaging and thoughtful presence. Josh Hutcherson is effective, but shines less brightly than his co-stars with relatively little to do but play "the slightly obnoxious sulky one".
As well as being an effective family drama, 'The Kids Are All Right' is also enlivened by deftly written dialogue which includes some pretty funny one-liners. As a result it never sags and consistently entertains all the way up to its emotional finale.
'The Kids Are All Right' opened in the UK on October 29th and is rated '15' by the BBFC.
November's episode of Flick's Flicks is now online. In it I preview the upcoming films and events for Picturehouse cinemas, which for the next month includes 'Chico & Rita', 'Let Me In', 'Another Year' and 'My Afternoons With Marguerite'. This is my penultimate episode as guest host standing in for Felicity, who returns for January's show (which I'm told will have a brand new look for the new year).
Also, Jon and I recorded our 38th Splendor Cinema podcast the other night, whilst working through a Zombie All-nighter at the Duke of York's cinema. We were joined by special guests (and Duke's co-workers) Adam Whitehall, Toby King and Craig Lakin Ennis as we chatted about favourite horror movies. The podcast should be at it's usual homes on the Picturehouse website and on iTunes within the next couple of days.
Check back later this week for my belated review of indie comedy 'Cyrus' and of current release 'The Kids Are All Right'. You can also read my review of today's 'Predators' Blu-ray release over at Obsessed With Film.
In recent years British cinema has seemingly started to move on from the sort of poverty porn, "ain't life grim" aesthetic that typified past depictions of working class life. Films like 'Cemetery Junction' and, more recently, 'Made in Dagenham' have presented a more palatable and infinitely more hopeful picture of life at the bottom (although both look fondly backwards to the 70s and 60s respectively), whilst even the longtime stalwarts of British social realist cinema have taken a turn for what some might disparagingly term "the mainstream", with Ken Loach last year directing the feelgood 'Looking for Eric' and Mike Leigh increasingly turning his talent to films of great warmth and humanist goodwill. It would be tempting to think that we'd all forgotten how to peer through the net curtains, with tears of condescension in our eyes, at the plight of the nation's great unhosed.
Well fear not, because ably filling this void is Clio Barnard's 'The Arbor', which has just bagged itself a couple of prizes at the London Film Festival and opened in UK cinemas last Friday. 'The Arbor' is a grim watch indeed as it forms a sort of biography of the late Bradford playwright Andrea Dunbar (writer of 'Rita, Sue and Bob Too!'), focusing on her strained relationship with her eldest daughter, the mixed-race Lorraine. The film goes beyond Dunbar's death from a brain hemorrhage in 1990, aged just 29, to look at how Lorraine became a heroin addict, a prostitute and, eventually, ended up in prison for allowing her son to die of "gross neglect". To tell this story, Barnard blends together a variety of techniques which include archive news footage, newly staged re-enactments of her first play, The Arbor, shot on location in the Brafferton Arbor area of Bradford (performed by actors, including Jimi Mistry) and, most startlingly, extracts of audio interviews with Dunbar's friends and family, dubbed over the performances of actors.
This latter technique is unorthodox, at least outside of Nick Park's 'Creature Comforts' series of animations - there used for comedy rather than drama - and has received mixed responses from critics, one of the most damning coming from The Guardian's David Cox. Personally, I found it distracting and sometimes even comical, which undermined the films very earnest approach and heavy subject matter. Many of the voices really don't work with the actors, the most obvious being Dunbar's younger daughter Lisa played by Christine Bottomley. The real life Lisa's voice, which is deep and slightly gruff Yorkshire accent, doesn't convincingly come from the mouth of the pretty, youthful looking actress. But such is the undeniable raw emotional power of some of the testimony - specifically regarding the death of Lorraine's child - that some of the film works in spite of this clunky device.
What I can't help but wonder though is this: what is the point of it all? We find out that behind Dunbar's broadsheet friendly persona as "a genius straight from the slums" she was perhaps a less than wonderful mother, by Lorraine's account at least. We also hear how she spent the majority of her time in the local pub, never moving away from the people and the area she immortalised in her stage plays. But does this look at the real life Dunbar and her offspring shed new light on her plays? And does this unusual, experimental device do the story any greater service than a traditional documentary or completely dramatised film might have otherwise done? I tend to doubt it. By straddling the line between documentary and drama, the film functions as neither. Nor does that film try to hard to draw any parallels between the Arbor of thirty years ago and the street as it is today. We see some footage of children playing football in a park, but nothing revealing.
This is not to say, however, that 'The Arbor' is a total failure. After all, it is daring and experimental in a way few films can boast (especially British films) and it is hard to take against that too strongly. For me though, the film is devoid of any real point, other than to take us on yet another grim poverty safari. It is another film about the poor intended to be consumed by chin-stroking liberals, who more often than not frown on the more accessible films enjoyed by the very people they patronise. Honestly, it is as if Preston Sturges never made 'Sullivan's Travels'.
With the demise of the UKFC, and the latest cuts to the budget of the Arts Council and the BFI, it could well be that British cinema makes a return to these sorts of grim portrayals of life for the working poor - low budget films made in a climate devoid of that initial wave of New Labour optimism. I have no problem with seeing those sorts of films at all. I just hope they have a bit more to offer than 'The Arbor'.
'The Arbor' is out in the UK now on a limited release and is rated '15' by the BBFC.
It's been over a week now since my last post. In fact October has been the least productive month for this blog since it began earlier this year (with just three film reviews up this month down from almost fifty in September). But that is not to say that I haven't been busy. For one thing Jon and I recorded our 36th Splendor Cinema Podcast, talking about 'The Social Network'. (Since that recording Jon has now actually seen and reviewed the film on his own blog.) Expect us to talk about the film again (in brief) in our next episode.
I've also been busy writing the last bits of programme copy for Brighton's CineCity Film Festival - and I promise that festival, hosted by the Duke of York's cinema - has a cracking line-up, so look out for that.
I also interviewed Darren Aronofsky, Vincent Cassel and Mila Kunis about my favourite film of the year so far: 'Black Swan'. That series of interviews is under embargo until the film's UK release date early next year and will be posted over at Obsessed With Film.
I haven't been able to see very many films this month as I've sought more shifts at my day job (at the Duke's), but I should be able to review gritty, British drama 'The Arbor' before the week is through. So come back for that before the week is out.
This year few films have intrigued me more than David Fincher's 'The Social Network': a film about the founding fathers of the hugely successful Facebook website based on the book 'The Accidental Billionaires' by Ben Mezrich. The film focuses on the lawsuits filed against Mark Zuckerberg and ever since I read that 'West Wing' creator Aaron Sorkin had penned the screenplay, and that 'Squid and the Whale' star Jesse Eisenberg had been cast as Zuckerberg, I have been excited to see the finished film. Then, at the end of last month, the positive reviews began to come in and are yet to stop. It seemed as though everyone was calling it a masterpiece and awarding it "film of the year" status.
I worried that all this praise, coupled with my own longstanding interest in the film, might raise my level of expectation unrealistically high. After all, earlier this year my headlong descent into a world of hype left me a little underwhelmed by Christopher Nolan's 'Inception' and earlier this month a great weight of expectation probably played its part in my less than enthusiastic response to Palm d'Or winning 'Uncle Boonmee'. I needn't have worried, however, as it turned out that 'The Social Network' was actually better than I had ever anticipated. In fact I saw it for a second time within twenty-four hours.
Aaron Sorkin's reputation as a screenwriter has taken a few knocks in recent years as his TV follow up to 'The West Wing', 'Studio 60 On the Sunset Strip', was cancelled after one season and is generally disliked (though I was in the minority who enjoyed it), whilst he also scripted Mike Nichols' horrible 2007 film 'Charlie Wilson's War'. However his status as one of the best contemporary writers of dialogue has been completely restored as 'The Social Network' is, to my mind, his best work to date by some distance. I have always enjoyed the self-consciously clever and fast-paced style of his character's speech, but if I had one problem with his other work (even the best of it) it was that often it was all too clear who the "good guys" were.
'The West Wing' casts his White House staffers as shining white knights battling the forces of evil - Republicans (until the post-Sorkin addition of Alan Alda) always portrayed as though they are the snarling agents of Satan. Politically I was never upset by this representation, but however much it preached to this particular choir I tend to prefer more nuanced and humanistic depictions of people. In 'The Social Network' all of Sorkin's best qualities as a writer are evident whilst all the principle characters are fully formed and multi-dimensional. Much has been made of Zuckerberg having been portrayed unfavourably by the film - that it is a smear campaign against him - but I disagree with this.
As someone who has never met Zuckerberg (in fact I've never heard him speak) I can't vouch for how accurate the film is. I expect, like the film itself says, 85% of testimony is exaggerated (with the remaining 15% being fabricated altogether). Sorkin has said that his main duty is to storytelling and not to "truth". But regardless of what the truth of this story might be, within the world of the film all of the characters are pleasingly well rounded out. Zuckerberg is not portrayed altogether negatively, in fact I sympathised with him and even at times respected him (for his intelligence, self-belief and single mindedness). In fact the film questions its own validity at several points: set during two lawsuits the film positions all the actual founding of Facebook stuff as coming to us via each plaintiff's skewed testimony and referred to by Zuckerberg, more than once, as "lies".
Even Zuckerberg's best friend Eduardo (played by the new 'Spiderman' actor Andrew Garfield), who is perhaps the most obviously likable and sympathetic character, is not perfect: he is a rubbish businessman when it comes to understanding what Facebook can become and seeks to gain instant, easy profit from it in a way which may have damaged the site. As a counterpoint, Justin Timberlake's character, Napster co-founder Sean Parker, is probably the most obvious "villain" of the piece - threatening to throw Zuckerberg's empire into hedonistic chaos and freezing out Eduardo - yet he is also the one who sees the site's potential and helps to catapult it into the big time.
Then we have Armie Hammer skillfully portraying both of the rich, athletic and popular Winklevoss twins: Cameron and Tyler . Depending on your viewpoint they can stand as the instantly hateful examples of social inequality and of arrogant fraternity boys raised in privilege, but they are also shown to be fairly reasonable and decent people who have a real case against Zuckerberg - who they claim stole the Facebook idea from them. And we can also see why Zuckerberg might honestly believe he owes them nothing: "someone who makes a nice chair doesn't owe money to everyone who ever made a chair". Every character has an angle and nobody is cast as a hero or a villain. This well balanced script is also full of truly brilliant one-liners and more than one self-righteous and indignant tirade from Zuckerberg, delivered with intensity, and with a delicious air of spite and malice, by the ever-excellent Eisenberg.
Another great strength of Sorkin's screenplay is that it never makes any obvious comment about Facebook as a social phenomenon and its impact on our lives - save for one girl's throwaway remark that it's addictive - but plenty of allusions to its perceived evils are made in subtle ways. For example, Zuckerberg's ex-girlfriend played by the up-and-coming Rooney Mara (now confirmed as the star of Fincher's 'Girl With the Dragon Tattoo' remake) lambasts the Facebook founder for writing trash about her on his blog commenting on his need to write everything he feels: "as if every thought that tumbles through your head was so clever it would be a crime for it not to be shared."
As well as the great cast and the gripping, intelligent script, which doesn't shy away from technical detail and fizzes by at a rate of knots (evaporating the films 125 minute running time), there is also the direction of Fincher to admire. He is able to shoot this film, essentially about nerds arguing, in such a way that it plays as an effective thriller. This is aided in no small part by the Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross score which lends an air of foreboding to everything that takes place. The film's colour palette is reminiscent of Fincher's 'Fight Club' (also shot by Jeff Cronenweth) and helps to make every aspect of Harvard campus life seem seedy and undesirable thus enabling the film establish a tone which differentiates it from anything else about American college campus life.
'The Social Network' is a staggering film and an instant classic. It is often very funny and always very clever, with a script that doesn't infantilize its audience. It is also thrilling and exciting... and dark too. As with Darren Aronofsky's 'Black Swan' I am moved to say that this film is quite simply perfect. Historians and technology experts may disagree with the film's take on real events and I have some sympathy with business writer Andrew Clark at The Guardian when he asks: "does a 26-year-old businessman really deserve to have his name dragged through the mud in a murky mixture of fact and imagination for the general entertainment of the movie-viewing public?" Probably not. But whatever the "truth", and whatever the moral implications of this type of dramatised treatment of very recent history, 'The Social Network' is a quite brilliant piece of entertainment and a wonderful example of American cinema at its very best.
'The Social Network' is out now in the UK and is rated '12A' by the BBFC.
A former freelance film journalist based in Brighton, I have written contributions to The Daily Telegraph and several websites, provided occasional analysis for BBC Radio Sussex and Radio Reverb, and recently I've been involved with several volumes published by Intellect Books.
I've also written about video games for GamesIndustry.biz.
I can be "followed" on Twitter:
http://twitter.com/BeamesOnFilm
