Guy Beres

Speaking as someone who was practically raised at the teat of George Lucas and his composer-general John Williams, it goes without saying that I really had to go see this movie. After the Star Wars prequels, my expectations were not high. Leading up to the release, one could really only hope that the rollicking, grin-inducing moments of this new film would outnumber the “why, George, whyyy???” moments that we were practically guaranteed to receive. I have in recent days sought some solace in the fact that if there was a character in popular modern cinema who could carry a movie through sheer charisma, it probably would be Harrison Ford at his sheepish best playing Indiana Jones.

And the verdict? Make no mistake, this is the most absurd and somehow empty movie in the Indiana Jones franchise. On the flip side of the coin, I still enjoyed it thoroughly, and if you love the joyful adventure of the previous Indiana Jones movies, you will too. Harrison Ford was perhaps born to play this character. He does not look too old to play the part, and there are a few moments in this movie that will leave you with a slightly nostalgic grin from ear to ear. Cate Blanchett plays surely one of the most vampy villains in recent memory, and carries the somewhat threadbare character she has been given with aplomb. John Hurt is actually quite a bit of fun as the usually non-sensical Professor Oxley, and Shia LaBeouf is much better than I thought he would be.

The story is of course on the silly side: it starts fairly silly and it ends with a spectacular barrage of vintage Lucas silliness. There are a couple of occasions towards the end of the film when one realises that the world of Indiana Jones is one in which there is no place too illogical in which to have a secret passage or a hidden door elaborately concealed through mechanisms impossible. But you know, that doesn’t really matter. If you have any attachment at all to the previous movies, you will find something to like here. You will rejoice in the nuggets of rough-hewn gold hidden amongst the nonsense, some of which, mind, is wonderful nonsense.

The only questions that remain are: will Harrison Ford now finally hang up the hat? And what will George Lucas inject his fun-loving, frustrating self into next?

I had the pleasure of seeing an excellent production of David Mamet’s Speed-the-Plow at the Old Vic Theatre in London this evening, and it really was something. Hollywood star and more than that; fantastic actor Kevin Spacey, currently in the press for bagging out reality television, is artistic director at the Old Vic Theatre, and also plays a starring role as Charlie Fox in this two man and one woman show. In this star-studded production, Jeff Goldblum plays Bobby Gould, a Hollywood producer with the power to “green light” projects, with Fox his excitable underling. Both Goldblum and Spacey (the latter particularly so) were excellent, and Laura Michelle Kelly does a great job as well as temporary office worker Karen, sandwiched as she is between two titans of modern cinema.

The relatively short play is a satire of Hollywood, and a commentary on the age-old question of what it is that really makes art good. Is a film good because critics think it is good, or because it makes some kind of intellectual point? Or is it really at the end of the day the numbers of bums on seats that separates good films from great films?

If I have a brief think about the films that mean the most to me, I find that most of them probably do fall into the “publicly acclaimed” category, even if some of them are on the off-beat side of the fence. There probably is something of a consensus out there on what makes a good film, even it if it is a very thin consensus, with people’s tastes presumably collectively covering the entire spectrum. I suppose it goes without saying that a box office hit is not necessarily a great film (refer: Star Wars Episode I), and that many films that would probably be widely considered “great” today were not box office hits in their day (refer: Citizen Kane). I’d be interested if anybody has actually done any research in this area, but I would have to guess that if we plotted box-office takings against “best film of all time” survey results, we would find that box office takings are a decent but not outstanding indicator of whether a film is likely to be great.

It’s probably high time that Daniel Day-Lewis bagged himself another Best Actor Oscar, but the Irish actor’s performance is not just the only thing going for this inspired allegory of a film from Paul Thomas Anderson. There Will Be Blood is pleasingly unconventional in a number of ways. The opening sequence, in which a seemingly interminable time passes without a single word being spoken, is adventurous and in its own strange way, breathtaking. The same can be said for Jonny Greenwood’s jarring score, which positively infests the movie, bringing a lot of character and also some machine-like brutality to events as they unfold. The score infuses an air of modernity within the film, which otherwise revolves around bit-part characters, small towns, religious nutters, and oil companies lead by gregarious thugs.

The story does not flow in a way that is normally expressed in film. The importance of the progression of the story runs a distant second to a focus on the antics of Day-Lewis’ character, Daniel Plainview. It will hardly surprise anyone, even those unfamiliar with the basic premise of the film that Plainview is a quintessential capitalist brute, putting his pursuit of oil wealth before everyone and everything else. He hates people and is individualistic to a harsh extreme. He is obsessive, immoral, and yet charming. He has more than just a slight resemblance to Day-Lewis’ other recent portrayal of a charismatic villain, Bill the Butcher from Gangs of New York. There are moments in this film where the comic mania of Bill the Butcher seeps through into Daniel Plainview’s character here, and although it probably takes away from Day-Lewis’ performance somewhat, you will probably enjoy it too much to care. Perhaps the genius in his performance is the fact that he really does make you empathise with Plainview. Daniel Plainview is obnoxious and ghastly, and does some horrific things, but in some ways his virtues are greater than those of practically all other people portrayed in the film. He is terrible, and yet he is a paragon. Plainview is a fictional manifestation of the greed motive as encouraged by the modern economic world.

Personally I wouldn’t mind soaking up this film again. It’s worth seeing twice - not just for the story, and not even just for Day-Lewis masterfully putting on his evil face. The sounds and the imagery of There Will Be Blood are what sets the film apart as something quite interesting and quite different to today’s mainstream cinematic fare. Atonement was perhaps a more conventionally good film than this one, but if you want to see something a bit different and marvelous in its own strange way, you could do a lot worse than going to see There Will Be Blood.

This film (or perhaps more specifically, the story of the film) and me go way back. Late last year, WH Smith had a deal on for a brief period advertising Ian McEwen’s Booker Prize nominated novel for half price, and I had all intentions of taking them up on the offer until it ended abruptly. With a pile of other unread books on my shelf I have resisted the temptation to indulge and buy the book since then, but I haven’t managed to resist the temptation to see the film, now that is has been released on DVD.

Nominated as it is for an Oscar for Best Picture, with Keira Knightley nominated for Best Actress, the film certainly comes with a bit of a reputation to live up to. I was fairly sceptical that I would actually enjoy the film, but came away from it quite pleasantly surprised and moved by the story. Without giving too much away, the film revolves around a blossoming relationship between the two main characters, Cecilia Tallis played by Knightley, and Robbie Turner played by James McAvoy, and crucially, how this relationship is viewed by Cecilia’s younger sister Briony. The thirteen year old Briony is played wonderfully by Saoirse Ronan in the early part of the film, and I think it is probably fair to say that the believability of her character really does provide the foundation needed for the remainder of the story to shine. Her Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress is not unjustified.

Knightley and McAvoy give quite credible if not virtuoso performances, and there are more than a couple unnerving twists in the tale as it progresses to keep the viewer interested. I was once one of those people who thought it always better to “read the book” before seeing the adapted film, but I think this may prove to be the film that changes my mind. Upon seeing such a polished rendition of a wonderful story on film, I am only more eager than before to pick up the book and relive the story through McEwen’s no doubt eloquent words.

In short, Atonement comes recommended. Of the two “Best Picture” nominated films I have seen for this year (the other being Clooney-fest Michael Clayton), this one takes the cake for me. I have a feeling that Daniel Day Lewis’ performance in There Will Be Blood may change my mind, however, if the reviews for that film are anything to go by.

If you have any desire to watch yet another playfully gothic film from Tim Burton featuring Johnny Depp, this time playing a character who appears to be second cousin of Edward Scissorhands, you can probably count Sweeney Todd as a film worth seeing. Of course, I should probably add to my list of qualifications that you really need to not mind a barrage of gratuitous neck slitting and blood spurting, and a plethora of tunes sung in often incomprehensible cockney accents. If there is anyone (anyone?) out there who will happily tolerate all these elements, roll up, roll up.

The story revolves around the macabre exploits of Johnny Depp’s character, Benjamin Barker, who returns to London at the start of the film after a period in exile. We come to learn that Depp’s character had been sent away for a crime he did not commit, by Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman), who was secretly lusting after Barker’s wife. Learning from Mrs. Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter) that his wife had apparently since died, Depp embarks on a quest for revenge, resuming his previous occupation as a barber under the moniker Sweeney Todd. Needless to say, things don’t go quite according to plan, and Barker’s vengeance quickly expands in scope to the throat of practically anyone within in reach. Mrs. Lovett, a pie shop owner concerned about the price of meat, “assists” in disposing of the resulting corpses in a most entrepreneurial way.

Put simply, there is more singing (or sing-song speaking) than speaking in this movie. You have been warned. Johnny Depp’s voice, as has been widely reported, is somewhat thin but surprisingly capable, although one gets the impression that some of the takes would have taken a significant amount of attempts to get right for someone of his somewhat limited calibre. Bonham Carter is a fine foil for Depp’s character, although at times in the movie her high-pitched singing and accent are virtually impenetrable. Alan Rickman plays a “bad guy” as perhaps only Alan Rickman can, and Sacha Baron Cohen even turns up in a most enjoyable but sadly brief cameo as Pirelli, a rival barber.

All in all, if you can get past the singing and the blood, it makes for a quite entertaining combination, and certainly a welcome diversion from run of the mill Hollywood pap. Johnny Depp occupies an interesting place in the pantheon of Hollywood actors at the moment; not really recognised as a prodigiously talented actor, but possessing a wonderful knack for bringing off the wall characters to life. As Joe Queenan ruminated in the Guardian in the wake of Heath Ledger’s sad death, Depp has not been showered with many formal awards for his performances, but is not just admired these days, but beloved. It is this sort of movie that he shines in, revolving around a character that he can fill with his seemingly boundless supply of oddball charm. Whether it will be enough to land him an Oscar this time around remains to be seen, but in the imaginary “Most Charming Performance” award category, he is certain to triumph hands down.

Readers of my previous review of Charlie Wilson’s War will not be surprised to hear me reiterate that I reckon any film featuring Philip Seymour Hoffman is worth seeing at the moment. On balance, I think The Savages is a better film than the aforementioned, and not least for the fact that Hoffman has a slightly larger canvas on which to paint his character, as one of the leads. The subject matter for this movie is also somewhat more serious, and focuses on a question that most of us have to come to terms with at some stage in our lives. What happens when our parents – the people who have invested time and money in caring for and nurturing us during our formative years – can no longer look after themselves? Should we feel guilty if, for whatever reason, we don’t feel up to the challenge of returning the favour in their old age? Is paying someone else to take care of the problem for us an ethical (or at least, morally tolerable) out?

The film begins when it becomes apparent that the estranged father (Lenny Savage, played by Philip Bosco) of Hoffman (Jon Savage, a philosopher and author) and Laura Linney (Wendy Savage, a troubled, wannabe scriptwriter) has become mentally disturbed and can no longer be cared for properly at home. When Lenny’s live-in partner passes away, and he is evicted from her property by her family, Hoffman and Linney’s characters are suddenly confronted with a moral dilemma. Jon takes a fairly clinical approach and does not canvass any other option besides installing their father in a nursing home. Wendy is more sceptical, and evidently feels a higher degree of obligation to ensure that her father is looked after, even if he didn’t do a particularly good job of looking after them as kids.

The ensuing saga of accepting the inevitable and locating a nursing home takes place against a backdrop of depression and social issues in both Jon and Wendy’s lives. Hoffman’s Jon is almost the stereotypical college lecturer – scruffy, kind, but somewhat maladjusted to the practicalities of life “outside”. His young Polish girlfriend is moving back home after they found that they were unable to commit themselves to getting married. Linney’s Wendy is suffering from a mid-life crisis, sleeping with a somewhat slimy married neighbour, doing temporary office work, and submitting theatre treatments to grant committees in her spare time. All in all, the scene is set for enough drama to really allow the talents of both Hoffman and Linney to shine; and that they certainly do. Linney has been nominated for an Oscar for best actress for her performance, and Hoffman was probably unlucky.

This film is hardly what you would describe as a “Hollywood blockbuster” – but it just the sort of emotionally cerebral film that it would be nice to see a lot more of in cinemas. I don’t really have any reservation in recommending that you go and see The Savages. It will remind you that films don’t have to have explosions, fast cars or violence in them to be quite spectacular indeed on the big screen.

Over the course of late 2006 and early 2007 I discovered The West Wing in a big way, and promptly watched my way through all seven seasons of the groundbreaking political drama series. Aaron Sorkin is therefore a name in television production, in my book, that deserves considerable respect. As a result, the prospect of seeing Charlie Wilson’s War (Sorkin wrote the screenplay) for the princely sum of £3.50 at the Coronet cinema in Notting Hill yesterday evening was something I didn’t have to think about too much.

The film is based on real events, although obviously with a bit of literary license at work. Tom Hanks plays Charlie Wilson, the Texas congressman who played a major role in committing the United States government to a covert war in Afghanistan against the Soviet Union. Julia Roberts is Joanne Herring, a wealthy and religious Wilson donor who has her own evangelical reasons for pushing Wilson towards doing something about Afghanistan. Philip Seymour Hoffman plays the somewhat challengingly named Gust Avrokotos, a CIA agent assigned to the Afghanistan desk who becomes increasingly intertwined with the story as Wilson begins pushing to double (and double again, and again) funding for the US backed weapons provision to the mujahideen.The movie has been billed as satirical, although to be honest, the satire button is not as firmly pressed as I would have liked. The film is more of a political drama that occasionally threatens to become satirical, but never quite makes the leap. The actors are all solid, although that said, it is not at all surprising that Hoffman was the only actor of the “big three” in this movie who has been nominated for an Oscar - his performance in this film is superb. He is the best “big name” actor in Hollywood by a country mile at the present time. It is good to see Hanks in a role somewhat removed from his usual “average joe” good guy characters, but having said that, he probably plays it all a bit too nice and convivial. As for Roberts - she unfortunately is fairly unconvincing in her role. I am not sure whether her own completely opposite political sympathies contributed to it, but I just don’t buy her as a wealthy Republican religious nut from Texas.

With his screenplay, Sorkin has obviously been very tempted to make a hard political point about the repercussions of Wilson’s actions in Afghanistan, but has steered away from that path. The criticism of the path the US government took ( e.g. training and giving weapons to the mujahideen) is fairly muted, and the movie itself probably is more celebratory of Wilson’s role in the episode than critical. Having said that, if you are interested in politics, liked the West Wing, or are an admirer of Philip Seymour Hoffman’s work, you have a reason to go see this film. Intelligent political drama does not come cheap or frequently these days, and this one is certainly bright, even if I am not sure it really makes the firm points it could have about what happened in Afghanistan.

One wonders where in the Australian film industry we can unearth an Australian Aaron Sorkin. Or are Australians to jaded with their political scene to produce such a figure?

I can’t believe it. If someone told me that an unnamed Hollywood actor had died from a drug overdose, I would never have guessed that he would be the one.

To be brutally honest at a politically incorrect time, I can’t recall a single film that I have seen of his (and I’ve only seen a couple) that I thought he was brilliant in, but it is upsetting regardless. A fine young world-class Australian talent, tragically gone far too soon. Terrible.

Details are of course still emerging, but it’s hard not to wonder at this early stage whether the overdose was intentional or not.

I’d be interested in hearing about what your favourite Heath Ledger film was in comments. For mine its one of his more recent ventures, I’m Not There, the Bob Dylan biopic.