BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN Explores Homosexuality in Taboo Time

(134 minutes) Starring: Heath Ledger (Ennis), Jake Gyllenhaal (Jack), Randy Quaid (Aquirre), Michelle Williams (Alma), Anne Hathaway (Lureen) Directed by: Ang Lee Rated R for sexuality, nudity, language and mild violence.Nominated for 7 Golden Globes.

It's the same old love story, only different. Brokeback Mountain is about the unresolved love of two people, their struggles and regrets with the road not taken, and the pain they cause for themselves and others in denying who they are. What's different is that the two lovers are men, cowboys, in fact. Had this film been about a man and a woman, it would have yawned its way into ho-humness. But the originality and sincerity in which the story is presented makes it a film worth watching.

Ennis Del Mar (Ledger) and Jack Twist (Gyllenhaal) meet in 1963 while searching for work. They are employed by crotchety rancher Joe Aquirre (Quaid) to protect his sheep and are sent to camp on beautiful Brokeback Mountain, Wyoming. When Ennis and Jack's love relationship begins, it is as surprising to them as it is to the audience. Both men claim they're "not queer," but we see that their communion was not just a product of two lonely guys with booze and frigid nights atop a mountain. These men fall for each other.

Of course, the times and their upbringings dictate that they must keep their love a secret. They both struggle with the shame of being "different." After they head back down the mountain, they painfully go their separate ways and become typical American men who marry and raise families. Four years later, the two meet again and pick up where they left off, sustaining their clandestine relationship throughout the years as fishing buddies. While the film takes an unexpected turn, it does fizzle out a bit at the end.

In some ways, Brokeback is very disturbing. Though we may think we know the people connected to us, how well do we really know our husband, wife, son, ourselves? There's an awful lot of pretending going on, and we see its side-effects: the lives we destroy (even our own) when we pretend to be someone we're not.

The movie takes its time drawing out characters, meandering along like a horse down a steep slope. There is a curiosity factor here. How does a same-sex couple love, especially two men who break all stereotypes as homosexuals? Yet, because Brokeback is so well-acted, Ennis and Jake's story becomes a universal one. It could be anyone's love story, even Tom and Mary's.

The bond between the men develops naturally, with the unfolding of two distinct personalities that can be summed up in their disparate religious upbringings: Jake came from a Pentecostal upbringing and Ennis' from a Methodist. Like the religions, one man is emotionally conservative and repressed while the other is emotionally high-spirited. Neither man exhibits effeminate traits; no, these are rough-and-tough cowboys in their Wranglers, making the characters all the more intriguing. The acting is incredible from the major roles to the supporting roles, and Ledger's portrayal of Ennis as a poor ranch-hand who is emotionally withdrawn at times, yet explosive and tormented at others is phenomenal. (An interesting bit of trivia-Ledger's wife in the film is his real-life girlfriend, too.)

Viewers can relate on different levels. While Jack tells Ennis, "I wish I knew how to quit you," there is that sense of frustration that most people, no matter the sex, have felt -- the frustration of not being strong enough to rid yourself of a deep desire for someone.

The film is based on Annie Proulx's short story, which appeared in the New Yorker in 1997. It was adapted into a screenplay by Larry McMurtry (author of Lonesome Dove) and Diana Ossana. Brokeback is beautifully filmed, complete with brown bears and coyotes, but it is also gloomy with its images of poverty and physical and emotional isolation. There is a prevailing sense of discontent for life's circumstances that, as Ennis says, "If you can't fix it, you gotta stand it."

I'm not sure that everyone will feel comfortable with this film. While we are much more open to homosexuality than in 1963, there still remains quite a bit of taboo. But the film is not offensive or lewd in any way and it withholds judgment. Brokeback Mountain's theme transcends sexual politics and is impressively handled with great tact, as well as sensitivity. The sincerity of Jack and Ennis' story gives the characters a stickiness that will linger in your mind long after you've left the theater. I must admit that this movie drifted in and out of my mind all day long, as if it were a dead aunt with a message. There is something here we can all relate to -- love denied, the path not taken, and the choices we've made that say "yes" to one person, but "no" to another.

SYRIANA: A Confusing Mess

The question always comes down to this: Will a movie be worth the ticket price and the time? For Syriana, I’d have to say, no--wait for the rental. Syriana makes a noble attempt to examine the greed and corruption of the oil industry, but stumbles under the convolutions of its plot. The film is difficult to follow, even for someone who closely follows the maneuverings of the industry. There are some interesting threads, such as Prince Nasir’s (Siddig) desire to build the infrastructure of his country and spread the wealth around, and a fleeting look at the making of suicide bombers. However, the film is intoxicated with its own complexity—it stumbles around from sub-plot to sub-plot, bounces from country to country and introduces so many characters that it’s impossible to keep them all straight.

The movie begins with an investigation into the impending merger of oil giant Connex with a small Texas company, Killeen Oil, which happens to have drilling rights in Kazakhstan. There is some question as to how Killeen acquired those rights, and lawyer Bennett Holiday (Wright) is hired to investigate the merger before the government steps in. Then there is Bob Barnes, played by Clooney, who is a jaded CIA operative sent to Beirut to set up an assassination. Matt Damon is part of it all, too. He plays Bryan Woodman, an energy analyst who capitalizes on a personal tragedy and negotiates a lucrative business deal with Prince Nasir. There are even more subplots in this two-hour film, stuffed like a school of fish into a goldfish bowl.

Clooney, who grew a beard and packed on 35 pounds for this film, plays his role well as a puppet so dedicated to his country that he doesn’t see the betrayal around every corner. He is a lonely man, coming to the end in his career, whether he realizes it or not, and his job has compromised his family.

Into each of the character’s lives, we catch a small glimpse of both their private and public workings—the family struggles, the proverbial skeletons in the closet. Yet since there is no time to fully develop any of the characters as they are shuffled around in the film, the viewer does not have the chance to make an emotional connection with any of them.

Syriana was written and directed by Stephen Gaghan, who also wrote the award-winning screenplay for Traffic. While the latter film had a similar dizzying feel, viewers were able to eventually piece the story together. Not so with Syriana. Although Gaghan stated that he had hoped to make these characters more accessible to American audiences by juxtaposing the many personal perspectives of one story, he ultimately fails with the very tactic he hoped would accomplish this task. There are too many gaps, too many characters, and there are too many moments within the movie that ask viewers to turn off their brains rather than make sense of the details.

There’s also the frustrating matter of a movie that puts forth some strong opinions, but then backs away from taking a definitive stand. Various sub-plots allude to the Iraq affair, our government’s immoral deals, and the arrogance of our desire to create other nations in our own image. But, ultimately, Syriana, which is supposed to be an actual term used in Washington think-tanks to describe a hypothetical reshaping of the Middle East, quietly settles on a hackneyed statement about what is really important in life: family.

This Exxon Valdez-sized plot and cast could have been more successful if it had not been so ambitious in its desire to reflect the many intricacies and complications of the oil industry as a whole. Sometimes the most complicated ideas are best told simply through one or two small parts.

CAPOTE: Makes You Think

Starring Philip Seymour Hoffman (Truman Capote), Catherine Keener (Harper Lee), Clifton Collins, Jr. (Perry Smith) and Mark Pellegrino (Dick Hickock). Directed by Bennett Miller. Rated R for violent images and some strong language. 114 minutes.

Capote deserves high marks because it is superbly acted and because it does what a film often does not do: it makes you think.

In a small town in Holcomb, Kansas, a wealthy wheat farmer, his wife and their two teenage children are found dead in their desolate farmhouse. The four members of the respectable Clutter family have been bound, gagged, and shot in the head at close range with no apparent signs of struggle. The chilling murders become the basis for Truman Capote's famous novel, In Cold Blood (1966).

After reading about the case in The New York Times, Capote calls his editor at The New Yorker magazine, believing that the murders, and the affects on the townspeople, would make a compelling article. Capote is sent on assignment, along with childhood friend Harper Lee (author of To Kill a Mockingbird). He soon discovers that an article is not enough: a great book is in the works, a “non-fiction novel” that would prove his theory that true stories could be just as provocative and gripping as fiction.

Capote, with his child-like voice and effeminate manner, is seductive in an odd way. In spite of his eccentricities, the townspeople quickly grow to trust him. Even Perry Smith, the half-Cherokee convict, finds an unusual, yet mutually-beneficial friendship with Capote, giving the writer his journals as a sign of their emotional intimacy. Smith is intelligent, creative and manipulative, “a gold mine” notes Capote and not unlike himself.

In sharing their stories, the writer realizes the men could have grown up in the same house, only, Capote left through the front door and Smith through the back. The film begs the question, “What makes a man a criminal?” Yet the answer is not clear, as represented by the two men. Their relationship is complex and the business of unraveling the events and writing the story consumes Capote, sending him into emotional withdraw and near break-down.

The Clutter murders occurred in November 1959. It took Capote six years to finish the book, the period in time covered by the movie. As one of American’s most famous novelists and creator of the “non-fiction novel,” his style of writing provided a new element to fiction writing that would forever change the genre. Similarly, in recreating Capote’s story, screenwriter Dan Futterman took dialogue, almost word for word, from the forty letters sent to Capote by the two convicts during their time on death row.

The film shows the complexities of Capote’s personality: his many facets, how he morphs into different people in different company. There is great irony in the generous decision of Dick Hickock, the less-articulate convict, donating his eyes to science, and a suggestion that someone could become criminal by looking through the eyes of one. Capote tells his friend that, in writing the book, he wants to return the men to humanity. Yet the men never left. Humanity is full of criminality in varying degrees and respectability of different shades, from “thieves” of stories to robbers and murderers. Shards of the two men are in all of us.

Philip Seymour Hoffman gives an incredible performance of a dramatic man without crossing that fine line of being overly-dramatic. Perhaps another good reason to like Capote is that it doesn’t succumb to flashiness or sentimentality to move the story along. Moments of humor are natural and unforced, and the movie trots at an even, steady pace. There is no surprising climax or unusual twist; there is just a good story about an incredibly interesting man, the complexities of his relationships and his struggle to write one of the great American novels.

KING KONG: Too Big, Too Long

Starring: Naomi Watts (Ann Darrow), Adrien Brody (Jack Driscoll), Jack Black (Carl Denham), Thomas Kretschmann (Captain Englehorn). Directed by: Peter Jackson. Rated PG-13 for violence and disturbing images. 187 minutes

At just over three hours, King Kong is a beast of a movie that could have been tamed to two hours. It falls into three parts: New York before Kong, a trip to Skull Island, and New York after Kong. While the special effects are truly amazing, the film is overdone and, at times, melodramatic.

King Kong is set in New York during the 1930’s. Carl Denham (Black) is a somewhat sleazy movie producer, struggling to make “the big one.” After another disappointing meeting with venture capitalists, he sneaks away for fear of losing his funding. Denham then makes quick plans to assemble a cast and crew for his next lofty venture. In his search for a leading lady, he runs into Ann Darrow (Watts), an unemployed Vaudeville actress. Denham persuades the starving actress to take the lead part, then tricks her and the rest of the cast into sailing to Skull Island, which has never been seen by man. At least, not the kind of men we know. Along the way to the island, the beautiful Ms. Darrow falls for writer Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody), but not nearly as hard as she will fall for King Kong. (Go figure—guess the bigger muscles and sharp teeth of the Alpha male are a real draw.)

On Skull Island the cast and crew find all sorts of creatures, including the ones that supposedly died out when a big meteor struck the earth. Somehow, this speck in the ocean was spared and man evolved to live among dinosaurs and other mutant life forms. King Kong rules the place, which is chock-full of creepiness: skulls, bones and freaky natives who roll their eyes into the backs of their heads.
To make a very long story short, King Kong falls for the gorgeous and entertaining blond rather than making a snack out of her. Darrow and the King become buddies. There is a dramatic rescue of the girl, and most of the crew makes a narrow escape. But Denham can’t leave the island with just his life; he realizes that there is a chance to make big bucks. King Kong is anesthetized and brought back to New York as the star of one big circus act. The rest of the movie is about the pitiful treatment of the 25-foot beast, and the romantic bond between the girl, the ape and Jack Driscoll.

Naomi Watts is a great heroine in distress. She makes a convincing transition from a fearful victim to a woman who knows her own power. Watts is successful in the variety and nuances of her expressions through meticulous attention to her craft. Adrien Brody is the other part of this unique love triangle. Though his performance is commendable, the melodrama and long loving gazes typical of this type of action/adventure film does not give Brody the chance to demonstrate the sophisticated character acting he is capable of—as in The Pianist.

There is some interesting symbolism in this movie. Denham is obviously excited over his find of King Kong, an aberration of nature. We see dollar signs all over his face as he gazes upon the animal. Exploitation is just a boat ride away, and viewers can make an easy connection between the zoo animals in the opening scene and the animals we cage in our own neighborhoods. There is clearly a struggle between man and nature, and while man appears to conquer and to win in the end, we all know there is no winner. Then there is the case of the fair woman. Evidently, she is a more worthy prize than any other sacrificial victim. Not only does Kong spare her, he protects her. Guess blonds not only have more fun, they get other perks, too. Which brings me to my next question: does anyone feel just a little uncomfortable that this woman prefers King Kong over a human?

The characters in this film have more close-calls than your typical cartoon. While the minor roles are easily expendable, the main characters have at least nine lives. Ms. Darrow should have been dead of a broken neck as soon as Kong grasped her in his huge hand and began running. Have you ever seen how a little boy holds a butterfly? Imagine the little boy on all fours, crawling around with a butterfly in his hand. Get the picture?

Everything about King Kong was big, including the media hype and its price tag of $220 million. Yes, I know King Kong is an action, adventure, drama, fantasy, sci-fi thriller. So? It doesn’t have to be silly. There were scenes when I thought, enough already. How many times does Jack Driscoll have to be attacked by huge flesh-eating bugs? How long can a man really run between the legs of stampeding dinosaurs? And how many wordless, loving gazes do you really need in one movie? King Kong sails on its special effects, but those effects are so many that it runs the risk of making the movie one big parody. At times, you can’t help but chuckle at scenes that are not supposed to be funny, such as the contorted expressions on the faces of the natives.

Make no mistake: this is at least a PG-13 film, and it is not for kids. It is violent and scary and sad for little ones. The fight scene between Kong and the T-Rex is one of several that are too violent and too intense.

Yes, King Kong is visually stunning. There are times when the sentimental moments, the loving looks between woman and ape tug on your heart strings, even though you know it’s Hollywood. There are times when you think wow! look what the film industry can do now. But two-thirds through the movie, I was looking at my watching and wondering if King Kong could possibly get any sillier.

Match Point: Entertaining, But Predictable Match

(124 minutes) Rated R for some sexuality. Written and Directed by Woody Allen. Starring: Jonathan Rhys-Meyers (Chris Wilton), Scarlett Johansson (Nola Rice), Matthew Goode (Tom Hewett), Emily Mortimer (Chloe Hewett Wilton), Brian Cox (Alec Hewett)

Match Point is a surprisingly different type of Woody Allen film, and it is very successful at being different from the rest of his work. Throughout most of its two hours, the movie is entertaining with its beautiful people and places, but the last few miles of Match Point fall into a certain predictability.

Chris Wilton (Rhys-Meyers) is a former tennis pro who lands a job as an instructor at an exclusive country club. All we know about his past is that he was a “have-not,” a poor Irish boy who has atypically rich tastes and interests. He is lucky enough to meet Tom Hewett (Goode), who brings Chris into his world of thorough-bred horses, country estates, and private boxes at the Royal Opera House. Luckily, Tom also introduces Chris to the women in his life: his sister, Chloe (Mortimer) and his fiancée, Nola (Johansson). Sister Chloe is immediately smitten with Chris, who is immediately smitten with fiancée Nola, a struggling actress from America. Chris wants both relationships, but ultimately must chose between his greed and his lust, a decision that will show just how lucky—or unlucky--he is.

Match Point offers some interesting food for your thoughts. Luck is always a fascinating concept to ponder. How much of life rolls along on Lady Luck’s wheels, and how much is a result of hard work and determination? This is not a love story, though it may appear to be, for there really is no indication of love in any of the relationships. It is a film about luck, lust and greed and the selfishness that is characteristic of living on such a superficial level.

It is also interesting to see that money buys beautiful people as well as beautiful things. Like it or not, the rich have a greater pool of marital prospects. While money doesn’t buy love, it does buy relationships. I think there’s another word for people who sell themselves for money, and it can probably be used to describe Chris and Nola—who, at one, point even tells Chris, “No one’s ever asked for their money back.” The two, by the way, even look surprisingly similar with the same puffy lips, angular jaw lines and bedroom eyes.

The downside to Match Point is this: it’s too homogeneous. I might like the color red, but I don’t want every surface in my house painted candy apple crimson. This film is about all the good fortune one greedy, lustful person has. Chris is not a complex character, and he doesn’t move from one point on the moral spectrum to another. That kind of sameness gets a little boring. Having a story that shows why a good guy does something bad or a bad guy does something good, is a lot more interesting than a bad guy who continues to meander down the same awful path. This predictability and flatness of character is what keeps Match Point from winning at Wimbledon.

There are also some underpinnings missing. Time in this film is a little confusing, so don’t try to put together a time line. Like a lot of films, you aren’t supposed to ask questions. Also, unless you believe in pure luck, Chris’ ready acceptance by work associates and his quick ascension to the top of the business food chain does not make sense. In a tennis match, you can win a few lucky points, but, in the end, it takes genuine skill to win. Chris, admittedly, has no prior credentials or business experience. That’s not only lucky, it’s unlikely.

In spite of being a soulless and shallow film, it is, for the most part, entertaining and somewhat provocative. A voice-over at the beginning of Match Point, says “The man who said, “I’d rather be lucky than good” saw deeply into life.” That question is left in the mind of the viewers at the end of the film. If you had to choose between the two, which would you choose?

Paradise Lost Gives Insights into Psychology of Suicide Bombers

(90 minutes, Subtitles) Grade: B. Starring: Kais Nashef (Said), Ali Suliman (Khaled), Lubna Azabal (Suha), and Amer Hlehel (Jamal). Directed by: Hany Abu-Assad. Rated: PG-13 for some strong language and mature themes. Awards: Five, including winner of 2005 Berlin Film Festival.

Have you ever wondered why a healthy young man would strap a bomb to his chest and climb aboard a crowded bus? If you have, this film might give you a little insight into the psychology and recruitment of suicide bombers.

Two young Palestinian friends, Said and Khaled, are told they are the chosen ones, the next in line for martyrdom. The childhood friends live and work as auto mechanics in the Westbank city of Nablus, a city filled with rubble and images of poverty. Together they will steal through a hole in the fence surrounding Nablus and into the crowded city of Tel Aviv to carry out their strike.

The film follows two pivotal days in their lives: the deception of their families and friends, the ceremonial preparations, the planning of the event and the conflicting emotions they face in their decision to become walking bombs. During their mission, an unexpected event causes the two friends, who had agreed to die together, to become separated. The plan is aborted and a frantic search begins to find Said, believed to be a threat to the cause.

In the brief initial contact when Jamal, a father-like figure from a Palestinian organization, tells Said that he and Khaled are the chosen ones, we get a glimpse into the propaganda that is used in recruiting suicide bombers. With the promise of martyrdom, paradise in the next life and care of the family that is left behind, the young men and women “chosen” for the cause are sold on the idea that they will be more than they could ever be in their present lives: heroes.

Along comes Suha, a pretty young woman, who meets Said when he works on her car and who spends a few predawn hours with him before he is to begin preparations as a suicide bomber. She is drawn to him, although it is clear that he is distracted with the secret that he keeps. Throughout the film, she is the voice of reason, the voice that says there are other options and that suicide bombings are not a legitimate means of political expression.

This is where the movie is successful: it does not condone the suicide bombers, yet it helps us understand their motives. We get a chance to see them as humans rather than crazed kamikazes. The film attempts to stay as close to reality as possible. The scene where Khaled makes a martyr video is shot in the actual place where martyr videos were made.

Perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of this film is what happened behind the scenes. For starters, in creating the movie, writers Hany Abu-Assand and Bero Beyer studied interrogation transcripts of suicide bombers who had failed, read official reports from the Israeli government and spoke with friends and family of the bombers who died.
The cast and crew faced serious security issues and tricky politics, particularly in Nablus, where they had to tread lightly in working with both the Israeli army and the various Palestinian factions.

Oftentimes, the crew feared retaliation from Palestinian groups that believed the film portrayed them in a negative light. Of the many difficulties, one local faction kidnapped their local location manager and demanded that filming be stopped. The location manager was returned with the help of Prime Minister Yasser Arafat. Later, an Israeli missile attack near the set sent six crew members packing for home, and the film’s director, (understandably) had difficulty recruiting more crew members. Intermittent gunfire and the explosion of a land mine nearby was extremely stressful and, at one point, the lead actress, Lubna Azabal, fainted.

Although Paradise Now lacks the emotional “stickiness” of some memorable films, this is an enlightening story for Americans who don’t have to deal with the constant threat of suicide bombings. There are a lot of “quiet spaces” in the movie, pauses for thoughts. The idea that life without dignity is worthless is often repeated; many Palestinians believe that “death is better than inferiority” and that fear of death is a ruse that saps control over their own lives. The questions are posed: When you live with the continuous sense of inferiority and fear, is it better to die a hero? Is death all that it’s promised to be? Is paradise here and now or “up there”? The neat thing about Paradise Now is that it answers none of these.

Through Said and Khaled, we understand their sense of hopelessness, but will they go through with the bombing or will they be convinced by Suha that there are other, better solutions? Will they be both victims and murderers? If you don’t mind reading subtitles, this film is worth seeing.

World's Fastest Indian: A Guy Flick

Starring: Anthony Hopkins (Burt Munro), Diane Ladd (Ada), Aaron Murphy (Tom),Chris Williams (Tina Washington), Christopher Lawford (Jim). Rate PG13 for language and sexual themes. Written and Directed by Roger Donaldson. 127 minutes.

What do you get when you combine Anthony Hopkins with a modified, 1920 Indian Twin Scout? A film with guy-appeal.

Burt Munro (Hopkins) is a wee bit deaf and a lot of years old. Most of his life he has dreamed of breaking the land-speed record. In his hometown of Invercargill, New Zealand, he has spent forty years tinkering with his beloved Indian Scout, which looks like a modern-day piece of metal art—or perhaps just a pile of scrap.

Munro yearns to take his machine to Speed Week at the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah to see just how fast his “old girl” will run, but there are a few obstacles, including lack of funds and poor health. At an age when most men are quietly rocking away their last days on the front porch, Munro scrapes up enough cash and throws his heart problems to the wind.

Here is the best part about the movie: Burt Munro was a real man who, at age 68, broke a land-speed record for motorcycles less than 1000 CC’s. And that 1967 record still stands. This was director Roger Donaldson’s second round making a movie about Munro. In 1973, Donaldson made a documentary that aired in New Zealand called, “Offerings to the God of Speed.” You’ll notice this phrase written in chalk in Burt’s workshop in The World’s Fastest Indian.

Burt is old, but not crotchety, and that in itself is one reason to like this movie. It’s a refreshing change to see a leading man with gray hair and wrinkles, living a huge life and chasing his most passionate dreams. The film has humorous moments, and it also has endearing moments. Munro’s unique way of expressing wisdom is heard in his words to the neighbor boy, “If you don’t live your dreams, you might as well be a vegetable.” To which the little boy responds, “What kind of vegetable?”

This is a nice date film, but The World’s Fastest Indian is far from one of the best films of the year. If it were not for acting giant Anthony Hopkins, the movie would have collapsed under its contrivances and sentimentality. There is always an awareness that Hollywood is behind the screen, fiddling with the plot. Sure, everyone loves a little old man, but this guy gets lucky around every turn. Surprisingly, he even (ahem) gets lucky with the ladies (wink, wink). As if the world were filled only with Pollyannas, each person he meets—and he meets some real characters--helps him along his journey, sometimes risking their proverbial necks for a stranger.

In spite of the all the good guys and the moments of humor, we know by the title what the film is about, and it’s just a little too easy. If you’re going to have punks on motorcycles intimidating a group of senior citizens in one scene, don’t suddenly turn the hoodlums into saints who offer cash in the next. Either scenes were left out of the film, or the director is just manipulating us. Audiences are smarter than that. Yes, I liked the film’s philosophy, I liked the message, but I didn’t like the cheap tricks to try to draw me in.

If you want two hours of easy entertainment, you might really like The World’s Fastest Indian, but if you want something a little more thought-provoking, this probably shouldn’t be at the top of your movie list.

TRANSAMERICA: All-American Dysfunctional

Starring Felicity Huffman (Bree), Kevin Zegers (Toby), Elizabeth Pena (Margaret) Fionnula Flanagan (Bree’s mom), Burt Young (Bree’s father), Graham Greene (Calvin)
Director/Writer: Duncan Tucker. 103 Minutes. Rated R for sexuality, language, nudity and drug use.

After passing the battery of psychological tests required for sexual reassignment surgery, Bree Osbourne (still technically a man on female hormones) learns that “she” has fathered a son from a short-lived college relationship. The seventeen-year-old boy, Toby, is a runaway, drug-addicted prostitute, who needs, among many things, someone to bail him out of jail. But Bree, so close to the finish line after working two jobs to pay for the procedure, tries to avoid dealing with her newfound paternity. With the operation only one week away, Bree’s therapist (Pena) withholds consent for the surgery until she flies from Los Angeles to New York in order to meet Toby and face this new obstacle.

In New York, Bree posts bail for the runaway, who mistakenly thinks that the “woman” is a Christian missionary there to save his soul. Bree plays along. The two begin a road trip to the west coast, Bree believing that she will find and leave the teen with his stepfather, and Toby believing the freakish female missionary will take him to California, where he will become a famous porn star and find his long-lost, larger-than-life birth father.

Transamerica is well-acted from the major to the minor roles. Though Felicity Huffman’s physique, with its narrow waist and round hips, is clearly not masculine, she convincingly portrays a dysphoric man who is a wanna-be woman. Huffman’s performance brought her an Oscar nomination for leading actress. In spite of the overwhelming and somewhat narcissistic character of Bree, Kevin Zegers artfully renders a cunning and troubled son with good heart, but a lot of issues.

There is nothing spectacular about the cinematography. At times, Bree is a little difficult to understand because she is actually a woman who tries to sounds like a man speaking like a woman. (Gets a little confusing.) She is proud and conservative, having the stereotypical feminine fear of snakes. Bree also seems more asexual than transsexual, but perhaps that is part of her genetic condition. A little bit of trivia: director Duncan Tucker came up with the idea for this film after talking about gender perceptions with actress Katherine Connella, who had been sharing a house with Tucker for about four months. During that conversation Connella revealed that she was transgendered and had been raised as a male.

Other than the conventional stereotype of a mean and abusive step-parent, Transamerica gives us a glimpse of the people and issues that are on the fringe of our culture. Yet one interesting point to be noted is that Bree is every man and every woman: in search of herself and in her journey to self-acceptance. She has issues with her body, and in today’s society, who doesn’t? It just so happens that the small part of her body that disgusts her the most is the part that makes the biggest statement about who she is. Or so we think. Transamerica does a good job of showing how fluid gender can be. Bree tells her mother that the difference between men and women comes down to hormones (which Bree and her mother both get from a bottle) and that men simply have “out-ies” while women have “in-ies.”

On the other hand, this film was unsettling for several reasons, none of which have anything to do with the plot. Sexual abuse, incest and exploitation of a child are such deeply disturbing issues that it seems a little disingenuous and unfair to use these subjects lightly as part of the plot or as a plot manipulation. Without spoiling the turns in the film, I’ll leave off here.

As I left the theater, one word popped into my head: dysfunctional. Every character in the film was in some way dysfunctional. Transamerica is a well-acted and unusual story that never judges, never apologizes. It stays off the morality and ethics soapbox. If films about gender reassignment don’t bother you, Transamerica offers more substantial food for your thoughts than the average Hollywood film.

TSOTSI: One of My Favorite Foreign Films

Written and Directed: Gavin HoodCast: Presley Chweneyagae (Tsotsi), Mothusi Magano (Boston), Zenso Ngqobe (Butcher), Kenneth Nkosi (Aap), Terry Pheto (Miriam). Rated R for violence, language and partial nudity. 94 Minutes, Subtitles. Oscar for best foreign film.

If you see only one film this year, you should see this one. Set in a crowded South African shantytown near Johannesburg over six riveting days, Tsotsi is a film with integrity. It is a raw and sincere story of one young man’s psychological evolution and potential for redemption.

Tsotsi is a cruel gang leader. At nineteen, he stalks and kills as easily as he walks. Tsotsi, meaning thug or gangster in the vernacular language of the streets, refuses to use his birth name for his childhood memories bring too much pain. A mere inquiry into his past results in a brutal beating of Boston (Magano), a fellow gang member. After leaving his friend bloodied and beaten, Tsotsi runs off into the night, to the wealthy side of town. There he finds a woman who has left her car running as she tries to open a malfunctioning gate. The young thug jumps in, but before he can make off with her BMW, the woman fights hysterically to get back in the car. Tsotsi shoots her. He soon finds the reason for the woman’s hysteria: her three-month-old son is asleep in the backseat. From here a poignant journey begins.

The hook in this film is the baby. There’s nothing quite as intriguing as a hardened criminal who reveals that a soft core exists somewhere inside. What moves him is something that we all feel but cannot articulate: the primal, instinctive desire to help someone who cannot help themselves. Tsotsi’s need for family—to love or to be loved unconditionally—is revealed through the relationship with the helpless infant that he carries around in a shopping bag as if it were a sack of potatoes. Though Tsotsi raised himself, living in a cement pipe after losing his mother to AIDS and being estranged from his father, he knows nothing of how to care for or feed a baby.

Presley Chweneyagae pulls off an incredible performance as the lead in his first feature film. Surprisingly, he had no formal drama training, yet he is capable of conveying so much through the subtleties of his expressions. Director and writer Gavin Hood wanted to cast local South African talent who could speak “tsotsi-tall,” the language of the streets. But investors were leery about casting a film without some of the big names in the industry. They wanted Hood to meet with well-known actors in Los Angeles. Ultimately, the director followed his instincts and struck gold with his cast of unknowns.

This is a film where everything works: the story is told in an honest and unique way, the acting is superb and the seductive rhythms of the “Kwaito” music (South Africa’s hip hop) pull you into Tsotsi’s world. There is no sentimentality or over-dramatization. The plot isn’t pulled solely by action or by gratuitous violence. It is driven by the consequences of violence and the psychology of the character’s development.
In the quiet spaces of the film, what is not said is spoken more powerfully than what is said.

The juxtaposition of sorrow and hope, drab and color, wealth and poverty, the loved and the unloved, add layers of richness to this film. Average stories are moved by actions, but great stories are moved along by subtle changes in the characters. They allow you to see through someone else’s eyes, if only for a moment. Tsotsi, the person and the film, has a profoundly sorrowful soul, yet viewers find hope as the progression of his character leads to redemption.

Thank You For Smoking Shamelessly Funny

Starring: Aaron Eckhart (Nick Naylor), Maria Bello (Polly Bailey), Cameron Bright (Joey Naylor), Sam Elliott (Marlboro Man), Katie Holmes (Heather Holloway), Robert Duvall (Captain), Rob Lowe (Jeff Megall). Directed by: Jason Reitman Rated R for language and sexual content; 92 minutes.

Based on Christopher Buckley’s 1994 novel, Thank You for Smoking is a hilarious satire about an ultra-smooth tobacco lobbyist.

Charismatic Nick Naylor (Eckhart) works for the Academy of Tobacco Studies and has no qualms about spinning, bending and distorting the truth in favor of cigarette companies. He is handsome and charming in a gold-plated sort of way. Only Naylor’s ever-watchful 12-year-old son, Joey (Bright), gives his conscience pause. He doesn’t exactly teach Joey Ben Franklin’s rules of virtue, but he does teach his son the difference between an argument and a negotiation, very important knowledge every American kid must have to maneuver his way through childhood. Right? Enter an attractive brunette, of course, and terrorist-like health fanatics who kidnap Naylor. Throw in funny dialogue instead of slapstick humor, and Hollywood legends like Sam Elliot and Robert Duvall, and you’ve got great entertainment.

This isn’t a movie that has one or two amusing moments, all of which you’ve seen in the previews. This is a humorous film (almost) until the end. Thank You for Smoking is a success because it does not rely on plot manipulations to move the story along. There are no unlikely coincidences here that tie the story up neatly and artificially into an Oscar-winning package.

On the other hand, because the main character is not very complex, this film won't go down as one of the year's greats either. And because Nick Naylor doesn't change--nor would we want or expect him to--it's one of those movies that doesn’t have a good place to end. It takes a lot of bows and fizzles out.In its lack of depth, ironically, there is one thing that rings true. Naylor pays his mortgage by defending the producers of disease. It seems shallow, but it’s the American way, making profit from others’ weaknesses and from exploitation--whether it's the company we work for, the stock we buy or the places where we shop.

How do we live with ourselves? Spin, spin, spin. The language of our contemporary culture gives us good arguments for all sides: good, bad or ugly. There are special interest groups for virtually every business, defending, pushing, and selling their interests at the cost of the public good. Only a lobbyist could convince people—as Nick Naylor does—that tobacco use actually saved his life. And Naylor advises his own son, "If you argue correctly, you're never wrong." Truth and morality are slippery, changeable beasts. (I'll bet every attorney in America agrees with that statement.)

Thank You for Smoking takes a good poke at our health-conscious, anti-smoking environment that has blossomed over the years. There's a lot of smoke to blow. In an NPR interview, author Christopher Buckley said that many potential investors turned the film down because of the message it sends. Yet a sudden stand against smoking in the finale would have prostituted the story and its characters.

This movie does not take us deep into the human psyche or reveal some sort of profound moral truth. It is superficial and doesn’t try to pretend that it’s not. Thank goodness. Thank You For Smoking stays on the surface and sails along right where it belongs, keeping the humor and entertainment genuine.

Art School Confidential

Starring: Max Minghella (Jerome), Sophia Myles (Audry), John Malkovich (Professor Sandiford), Jim Broadbent (Jimmy), Matt Keeslar (Jonah), Anjelica Huston (Sophie), Joel David Moore (Bardo). Directed by: Terry Zwigoff. Written by: Daniel Clowes. Rated: R for nudity, language and adult themes; 102 minutes

Art School Confidential takes a few shots at the art world. What exactly is art? What makes it good? Who decides?

Jerome Platz (Minghella) is a young artist who wants to be famous like his idol Pablo Picasso. His dream is to become the greatest artist of the 21st century (and to win heart of the art model, of course). Yet sometimes success as an artist has everything to do with the drama in the artist’s personal life and little to do with the talent exhibited in his works.

In high school, Jerome is the nerd on the fringe. He believes that he will find acceptance and the girl of his youthful dreams in art school. At Strathmore Institute, a small arts college, he befriends Bardo (Moore), an on-again, off-again student and professional cynic. Bardo knows all the student types and pokes fun at them: The Vegan Holy-man, The Boring Blowhard, The Angry Lesbian and the Brown-Noser.

Soon Jerome sees the girl he has been holding out for. Audrey (Myles) is the class art model, who must pose sans clothes. Of course, Audrey is inaccessible and a wanderer when it comes to love. She ignores his obvious interest for the attentions of attractive but dopey Jonah, who is not really a struggling art student (hint is in the title). More frustrations await Jerome. He ultimately learns two important life lessons: nice guys don’t win and sometimes crime does pay.

Directory Terry Zwifoff also directed Bad Santa, which was much more successful as an irreverent and offbeat comedy because of its continuity. Art School Confidential veers off course, becoming a dark murder mystery after a start as a humorous satire of the art world. Some viewers may find this hard to swallow. It’s as if the screenwriter ran out of laughs halfway into the movie.

Even Jerome’s ultimate guiding reason for his art changes from a desire to be a great artist to a life-or-death need to win Audrey. He becomes a pathetic approval-seeking character, desperate for acceptance from his teachers, peers and, of course, the girl. Is there a message here that successful—not necessarily talented—artists must prostitute their craft to their audience? Maybe. But isn’t that what happens with politicians and even filmmakers?

Is this film worth a watch on the big screen? I think so. While it’s not an Oscar winner, it is leagues above Date Movie. It offers a few laughs in the first half and poses some interesting questions about the art and artists. What makes a painting valuable? Are there aesthetic standards or is all art subjective? Is it all about the viewer’s expectations? Is success more luck than talent? For any of you (like me) who have questioned how a certain painting ever made its way into a museum, you might like this film.

DUMA: Delightful Coming-of-Age Story

Starring: Alex Michaletos (Xan), Eamonn Walker (Ripkuna), Hope Davis (Kristin), Campbell Scott (Peter)Director: Carroll BallardBased on the book How it Was with DoomsRated: PG for “mild adventure peril;” 100 minutes

For children, Duma is a delightful coming-of-age story with a good message. For adults, it’s a worthy watch, too. The story is not complicated: a young boy, Xan, and his father, driving late at night, find a furry little cub alone into the middle of the road. They adopt the adorable cheetah, name him Duma (the Swahili name for cheetah) and make him their pet. But unlike the family dog or cat, this big cat must be returned to the wild.

Xan learns that Duma’s instinct is a “memory” that must be honored. When the cheetah is nearly full-grown, the boy’s father becomes seriously ill. Twelve-year-old Xan must undertake the task of returning Duma alone. On their perilous trek across the dry South-African Salt Pans, the boy and the cheetah meet up with a mysterious traveler named Ripkuna, who adds an interesting mix of danger, heroism and life lessons to the experience. The journey becomes a rite-of-passage for Xan and Duma, and returns them both to their rightful homes.

Duma is the kind of film kids love: wild animals, big roars, lovable little bush babies. Set in the raw beauty of South Africa, the cinematography provides a visual feast for children, young and old. There’s enough breathtaking scenery and intriguing footage of the cheetah for adults to forgive any contrivances in the story. No, Ripkuna does not make a convincing transformation from suspicious petty thief to hero, but that’s o.k. The movie’s messages of love, doing the right thing, forgiveness and moving on after a tragedy, make up for Duma’s shortcomings.

Some interesting tidbits from behind the scenes: The production crew traveled the world to find a twelve-year-old boy to play Xan. They needed a kid who could get in the face of a cheetah, who was not afraid to play with a wild animal. In the end, they found Xan’s character, Alexander Michaletos, in their backyard, only thirty minutes from the production office. Although Michaletos had never acted, he had grown up on a farm with wild animals that included lions, wildebeest and cheetahs. He was a natural.

Cheetahs hate water, but they love to run. They are known as the fastest animals on land. The running scenes in Duma are phenomenal, but filming the fast cats proved problematic. The crew’s vehicles couldn’t accelerate and move as fast the cheetahs.It took three months to train all the animals (of varying ages) involved in making this film. By nature, cheetahs have the attention span of a human toddler, and they don’t look at objects close-up because their eyes are designed to spot prey far-away. “Full-grown” Duma was actually played by four different cheetahs, each chosen for specific personality traits. For instance, one was affectionate and worked well with Michaletos. Another cheetah had a natural “worried” expression that was useful for dramatic scenes.

Duma is a fun family film with some important messages. To pluck a wild animal from its home and domesticate it is a form of cruelty. Doing the right thing for something or someone you love can be difficult, but necessary. Letting go of Duma is a journey of growth for both boy and cheetah.

Robert Downey, Jr. as Harry Lockhart 

Review of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang (103 minutes)
By Deborah Mitchell

Grade: B
Starring: Robert Downey, Jr. (Harry Lockhart), Val Kilmer (Gay Perry), Michelle
Monaghan (Harmony Lane), Corbin Bernsen (Harlan Dexter)
Directed by: Shane Black (also the writer of the screenplay)
Rated: R for language, violence, nudity and sexuality.
Showing at: The Anglika Film Center, 7205 Bishop Road, Plano


There’s definitely more banging than kissing, but this spoof of the crime novel has many good laughs along with the dead bodies. The dialogue is quick, clever and unexpected, and it’s one of the best parts of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang.

Robert Downey, Jr., plays Harry Lockhart, a petty thief from New York who narrowly escapes the police one night by ducking into a movie audition. Voila! In the throes of bungled-burglary distress, he shows that art and life are interchangeable, giving the best performance of the evening. Before he can say “break a leg,” Lockhart is flown out to Los Angeles for a screen test and on-the-job training with private eye, Gay Perry (Kilmer). Yes, Perry is gay, though not in the happy sense, and the two make an interesting and, at times, hilarious, combination. They soon find themselves embroiled in a complicated murder mystery.

There is a girl of course: Harmony Lane (Monaghan), a wanna-be actress with only one commercial to her credit. Harmony just happens to be Harry Lockhart’s unrequited love interest from high school. She, too, becomes part the crime-solving team with a personal stake in the crime.

Downey gives a stellar performance as the mumbling, self-deprecating narrator and accidental actor. His neurotic charm and pathetic, puppy-dog eyes are endearing, sort of. The other characters constantly yell at him for being stupid, and you get the sense that he was the kid in high school who had “kick me” taped to his backside.

Downey’s dual role as narrator adds a great touch, and he converses familiarly with the audience as if he’s your buddy. He makes no apologies for the parts of the movie that are ridiculously unrealistic or don’t fit neatly together. And he let’s the audience know that he will spare them of typical theatrical contrivances: “Don’t worry,” he says. “I saw Lord of the Rings; I’m not going to end this 17 times.” This is, after all, a movie, and while it’s not supposed to follow life’s rules, it’s also not obligated to follow theatrical conventions. That’s what makes the film so funny.

This is a detective-story parody, with a little bit of Pulp Fiction sprinkled in. The characters are all caricatures, and, like a dime-store novel, the plot is dense and convoluted at times. Loose ends are tenuously tied with suspicious or unlikely connections. Even the dead characters are brought back at the end of the film. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang is what it is: a movie, and that gives the film lots of room for fiction and far-fetched events. Yes, the plot is unrealistic, but so are detective novels.

There are some things that just don’t work, such as Gay Perry’s visit to Harmony’s father, who raped her sister for years. In this comical light-hearted flick, there isn’t room for statements about a subject as somber as child abuse and incest. The matter is akin to finding an elephant in your linen closet. Just doesn’t fit.

Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang is playful and moves along at a fast clip with dialogue that never sleeps. You’ll laugh at unexpected moments, even at the reckless disposal of a body that shows up in Lockhart’s shower. The supporting characters add great chemistry and quirkiness: not more of the same detective-types, but more dimension. An interesting bit of trivia: Harry Lockhart at age 9 is played by Downey’s own son, Indio Falconer Downey.

If you try to make sense of all the details, you can’t. But if you can sit back and let your mind ride along, the movie’s great dialogue and refreshing style make a big bang for your movie buck.