Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012)

           One of the most critically-renowned films of 2012 (and one of my own personal favorites) is Beasts of the Southern Wild. Quvenzhané Wallis stars as Hushpuppy, a caring and resourceful six-year old living in an offshore bayou community called “the Bathtub.” When her father, Wink (Dwight Henry) becomes mysteriously ill, Hushpuppy’s already less-than-stable home life takes a confusing turn. Hushpuppy and her neighbors prepare to cope with the imminent flooding of the Bathtub, and she learns to grow in courage and independence, while facing a future filled with uncertainty.

           To say that Wallis shines as Hushpuppy would be an understatement. The girl radiates love and charm. Wallis is 100% adorable, 100% of the time. But she brings to life a much wider range of emotions than one would expect: fear, shame, worry, immaturity. After deliberately starting a fire to spite her father, Hushpuppy actually believes that he might kill her. Yet there is a complexity to Hushpuppy that is rarely seen in characters her age. She feels responsible for her mother having left her, and carries a great deal of guilt because of it. Hushpuppy is concerned about things that are beyond her control, and considers the entire universe and the way it fits together. Yet even when she is trying to be serious, her youth slips out. Near the beginning of the film, she fiercely states to her father, "I hope you die. And after you die I'm gonna go to your grave and eat birthday cake, all by myself."
           Wink often behaves in ways that are abusive and frightening, but there is never a doubt that he loves Hushpuppy. When she throws a tantrum, he jumps right in there and starts throwing things with her. But he doesn’t allow her to be the little kid she is. Wink has awful tact, but his effort to have a relationship with his daughter is apparent. And she loves him like only a child can. After Wink suddenly disappears, leaving her alone overnight, he returns wearing a hospital bracelet and gown. Hushpuppy rushes to greet him, exclaiming, “I learned lots of things while you were gone!” The portrayal of such a complex relationship is all the more impressive, considering Beasts of the Southern Wild is the first film in which either Wallis or Henry had ever acted.
           The location of the Bathtub is very much a character in itself. Here, nature is untamable and free-spirited (much like Hushpuppy). While dirty and rough, there's something appealing about it, too. It’s a real community, where its residents don’t need a reason to celebrate – they’re just excited to be alive. The Bathtub is a neighborhood that thrives on love, where everyone knows and respects each other.  The spiritual connection that Hushpuppy feels towards her home is almost as charmingly mythical as the aurochs that reside in her imagination.
           Beasts of the Southern Wild was shot on 16mm film stock, which, due to advancements in digital alternatives, is becoming more and more of a novelty.  For this story, director Benh Zeitlin and director of photography Ben Richardson made the perfect choice. The soft, grainy quality of shooting on film contributes to the feel of a world that is gritty and imperfect, yet full of love. The shallow depth of field visually underscores Hushpuppy’s mindset by representing her childlike inability to truly focus on more than one thing at a time. Cinematographically, one scene in particular stands out. When Hushpuppy and three other young girls are picked up by a floating brothel, the prostitutes fawn over them. Hushpuppy slow-dances with a woman who reminds her of her mother, and states, “This is my favorite thing.” The sequence is shot in close-up, with tinsel and out-of-focus lights glittering in the background: the perfect picture of intimacy. 
           Another immersive element of Beasts of the Southern Wild is the film’s score. Music by Zeitlin and composer Dan Romer weaves childlike innocence with a hint that something much bigger is coming. It's sad yet comforting, and the one component that simultaneously accentuates all the others. 
           Beasts of the Southern Wild explores several engaging themes. Ideas of resilience against forces of nature, the complexity of a meaningful father/daughter relationship, and discovery of self-sufficiency all play an integral role in telling Hushpuppy’s story. “The whole universe depends on everything fitting together just right,” she says. Zeitlin takes that thoughtfulness and enthusiasm for life and applies it to Beasts of the Southern Wild, creating a memorable film wherein all the elements fits together just right.  

Zero Dark Thirty (2013)

One of the year’s top contenders for Academy Award Best Picture is Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty. The film follows CIA agent Maya (Jessica Chastain) in her nearly ten-year endeavor to track down terrorist leader Osama bin Laden. Beginning with the aftermath of the September 11, 2001 World Trade Center attacks, it documents this objective through bin Laden’s eventual capture by a United States special forces unit on May 2, 2011.

            Bigelow’s female perspective contributes to a great sense of sincerity in the character of Maya, and the way she is perceived by her male colleagues. They are well-aware that she is female, but it’s her confidence rather than her gender that sets her apart. She doesn’t allow others to doubt her. Bigelow was not honored with a 2013 Academy Award nomination earlier this week (regardless of the fact that she won the Oscar just three years ago for The Hurt Locker, making me question whether the Academy disregarded her so as not to appear to play favorites… with women, at least.) Yet the final shot in the film is a prime example of why she is deserving of the recognition. So much emotional information is conveyed in that moment, with not a word of dialogue.
            For her part, Chastain portrays the strongest and most likeable female lead of the year. Maya is hardly verbose, but when she speaks, her words have meaning. She is not romantically involved and her career is her life. She is sharp, blunt, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. Whether she’s interrogating detainees, threatening her superiors, or indulging in a brief bit of girl talk, Maya is completely captivating. (Not to mention that her hair is always ravishing – more on that later.)    

Director of Photography Greig Fraser makes excellent use of low lighting and silhouettes. While I generally prefer the look of a work shot on film over that of digital capture, Fraser utilizes the range and sharpness of the Arri Alexa camera to its greatest advantage, producing a film rife with gorgeous cinematography. I believe Zero Dark Thirty looked every bit as good as Roger Deakins’ much talked-about work on Skyfall, also shot on Alexa. (And I swear, Fraser and his key lighting technician developed some magic formula to make Chastain’s hair consistently look the perfect tone of fiery gold).

            As should be expected from any film recounting terrorist events, Zero Dark Thirty is intense. Yet the violence is never glamorized or exaggerated. At just over two and a half hours, the film runs a little long, but that can be attributed to the extensive attention to detail which makes Zero Dark Thirty feel so truthful. This film isn’t overtly political, or full of ethical questions. At its core, it’s a simple story about a woman and her unwavering drive to get the job done. Considering its flawless direction, performances (most notably that of Chastain), and cinematography, Zero Dark Thirty is by far one of the most thought-provoking and technically impressive films of the year.

Brave (2012)

         Ask any person under the age of 25 (or their parents, for that matter), and they are likely to be familiar with such iconic animated characters as Woody and Buzz, Nemo, Lightning McQueen, Wall-E, and Dug the dog – just to name a handful. The collaboration between Disney and Pixar has produced thirteen feature films to date, including their most recent installment, Brave. Disney-Pixar films have garnered a reputation as the premier brand of children’s entertainment, due to their flawless blend of stunning imagery and heartwarming stories. These films have incredibly high expectations, which may have been why I found myself slightly disappointed with Brave.
         Princess Merida (Kelly Macdonald) has a passion for archery, and her unruly orange mane is almost as wild as she is – or desires to be, if only her mother (Emma Thompson) would permit it. Tired of rules, restraints, and potential suitors, Merida lashes out at the queen. She runs out into the Scottish woods, and happens upon a cottage, where a mysterious witch gives her a spell that she promises will help Merida “change her fate.” The spell turns out to be more terrible than Merida could have ever imagined, and she must quickly figure out how to undo it – before her family is torn apart forever. 
         While Brave holds up well as a film in general, it fell short of what I have come to expect from most Disney-Pixar films. (In fact, when the man sitting next to me in the theater asked his very young son if he liked the film, the son responded, “Yes. But Madagascar 3 was better.” ) The film is full of touching moments, funny beats, and extensive character development; but it lacks that grand, sweeping adventure that triggers this development. Merida undergoes a personal transformation, but takes no physical journey: most of the film takes place in her castle or the environment surrounding it. There is no “bad guy” – just an antagonistic situation. While that is all very well and good, I craved a little more classical adventure intertwined with the personal exploration.
         Brave holds many thematic parallels to Pixar’s 2003 film, Finding Nemo. In fact, Brave is to mother-daughter relationships as Nemo is to their father-son counterparts. Yet Nemo did it much better (and, let’s face it, first).
        About thirty minutes into Brave, the film takes a complete twist. For attentive viewers, it can be spotted ahead of time (there are several little clues, but I won’t spoil them here). We quickly realize that the plot is branching off into something new, and the themes morph accordingly. Merida is no longer fighting off potential suitors, but has a different, much grizzlier problem to solve.  The film’s tagline is “Change your fate,” but I felt that this theme only came into play at the beginning, and dissipated from there. In fact, the only action Merida consciously took to change her fate ended up being the one that put her family in great danger.  
         I also had a hard time figuring out just what made Merida so “brave” in the first place. At the start of the film, she is tough and strong-willed, but filled with teenage angst and rebellion against her mother.  She gradually learns to compromise and relate to her parents, but this makes her more open-minded than brave. Merida has the courage to stand up for herself and her beliefs, but isn’t this true of most Disney characters?
         Let me be clear: Brave is good as a film in general. But as a Pixar film, it underwhelms. Better luck next time, Lasseter.

Prometheus (2012)

        The summer movie-going season has officially kicked off with Ridley Scott’s Prometheus. Written by John Spaihts and LOST co-creator Damon Lindelof, Prometheus takes place in the year 2093 and follows small crew of scientists headed by Dr. Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) and her partner and long-term love interest Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green). The team embarks on a mission to prove the existence of beings depicted in hieroglyphics they have uncovered across the globe. Shaw refers to them as the “engineers,” believing they were once responsible for the creation of the human race, although Weyland Corporation executive Meredith Vickers (Charlize Theron) has little faith. Shaw and her team find what they are looking for, but things hardly go according to plan. The crew soon finds itself fighting for survival in an unfamiliar environment where they are clearly not welcome.
        Prometheus is, for all intents and purposes, a prequel to Scott’s 1979 Alien, and explores the creation and discovery of the iconic creatures. The film starts out slow, but builds nicely into a second half of almost nonstop action. Michael Fassbender plays David, an eerily humanesque android (think Replicants). One of the first characters we meet, David continues to steal the show throughout, and Fassbender portrays him in a way that is simultaneously endearing and menacing. Guy Pearce is completely unrecognizable in his role as the aged financier Peter Weyland. He blends into the prosthetics and computer imagery so well that I had completely forgotten he was even in the film until the end credits. Rapace is quite probably one of the toughest female leads since Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley; Shaw is inarguably and unabashedly badass, as evidenced by her remarkable ability to keep fighting in spite of extreme physical and emotional impediments.
        One of the film’s biggest strengths is deep character exploration. Background details that are not necessarily critical to the plot are provided, juxtaposing the characters’ lives onboard the Prometheus against the lives they left on Earth. Each player has their own emotional baggage: Shaw’s inability to have children and loss of her own parents at an early age; Vickers’ complicated relationship with Weyland and her thirst for control; David’s repressed desire to be human; even the home life of pilot Janek (Idris Elba) is subtly hinted at.
        While Prometheus has its moments of levity, the tone is generally very dark. It is a gritty take on the science fiction genre, much in keeping with the original Alien film, which has been missing from mainstream cinema as of late. (In fact, the only recently similar film I can think of would be Danny Boyle’s 2007 Sunshine, discounting the highly stylized Star Trek reboot and TRON sequel.) A particular sequence involving a medical pod had me feeling nauseated while at the same time suppressing laughter – not at the execution of the scene, but because it was so distinctly reminiscent of Alien; a perfect homage.
        In true Lindelof fashion, the film neglects to answer many of the key questions it poses, prompting further thought, discussions, and second viewings. The story is complex, the characters are well-rounded, and the visuals are stunning. If you’re searching for a place to escape the heat on a summer afternoon, look no further than the eerie, frigid world of Prometheus.

New Year's Eve (2011)

        Director Garry Marshall’s 2010 film Valentine’s Day was slaughtered by critics , and talks of a spin-off had filmgoers rolling their eyes and asking, “What’s next – Memorial Day?” True, the thought of an entire franchise based on holidays is enough to make any self-respecting cinephile gag, but the concept actually works very well in relation to December 31. It is the one annual night when people all over the world come together to reflect on the past year, and look forward to the promise of the future. What better night to illustrate the story of families, lovers, and strangers coming together in anticipation of the next chapter of their lives?
        Of course, what drives New Year’s Eve (and will no doubt rake in enormous sums at the box office in the weeks to come) is not the story; it’s the sheer star power. The film’s promotional poster features stills of eighteen of its “stars,” which include Halle Berry, Jon Bon Jovi, Robert DeNiro, Zac Efron, Ashton Kutcher, Lea Michele, Sarah Jessica Parker, Hilary Swank and Sophia Vergara – among several other leads and assorted cameos. Although none of the performances are groundbreaking, every character was likeable in some way. Efron’s tool with a heart of gold, Michelle Pfeiffer’s cautious office worker, Seth Meyers’ frazzled but competitive father-to-be, Katherine Heigl’s woman scorned – each managed to earn some measure of my affections. (The only exception being Kutcher’s unkempt, holiday-bashing comic artist; who, in light of recent events in Kutcher’s personal life, failed at evoking my sympathy.) Audiences will be amazed at how much Abigail Breslin has grown up since the days of Signs and Little Miss Sunshine, but she still brings her own childlike innocence to a film otherwise carried by adults. Vergara essentially plays her character from Modern Family (using incorrect vocabulary and telling stories about “my country”), but it works; she has the best comedic timing of the cast.
        What surprised me about this film is, ironically, its ability to surprise. Apparently, decades of working in romantic comedies has enabled Marshall to avoid many of the clichés inherent to the genre. At several points throughout the film, I found myself absolutely certain of what was to come next, only to be shocked to discover my assumptions were incorrect. Rather than falling victim to generic conventions, Marshall chooses to confront them directly. He teases the audience, almost as if to say, “You thought I was going to go for the obvious, didn’t you?” What is predictable about this film is how pleasantly everything wraps up – once midnight hits, all characters are instantly at peace. Yes, New Year’s Day is considered a “blank slate” for many, a fresh start at becoming the people they want to be; but that does not negate all of the complications attached to the days, months, and years prior (for example, a messy breakup between Heigl and Bon Jovi’s characters, which is easily reconciled in the film).
        New Year’s Eve is by no means a cinematic masterpiece from a technical standpoint. Dialogue is dubbed over shots wherein the actors’ mouths are not moving, and Jessica Biel’s pregnant tummy is laughably fake-looking. The pacing is inconsistent: the first half of the film is exceedingly slow (understandable, considering how many character introductions must be plowed through), while the second half picks up and begins intertwining, complicating, and eventually resolving all of the stories. However, New Year’s Eve serves its purpose as a feel-good film and succeeds in eliciting a few powerful sentiments from the emotionally-accessible viewer. The stories involving Halle Berry and Robert DeNiro are particularly touching.
        New Year’s Eve improves upon what Valentine’s Day did for the star-studded seasonal heartwarmer. This is certainly not the film anyone should expect to garner Oscar nominations, but it can be appreciated when one goes in with the proper mindset. It is the perfect fit for those seeking a little heartfelt entertainment. Not to mention a whole lot of celebrities.

Drive (2011)

The premise of Drive sounds promising: a Hollywood stunt driver (Ryan Gosling) who moonlights assisting with heist getaways befriends his attractive neighbor (Carey Mulligan) and her young son (Kaden Leos). The three grow close, and the driver agrees to help the family by taking on a job, unaware of who he is dealing with. Unfortunately, the execution of this core idea is muddled with sappy montages, unnecessary carnage, and lack of any character traits whatsoever, detracting from any interest inspired by the logline.

Hardly any information is provided about Gosling’s character.  He isn’t given so much as a name (and is credited only as “the driver”), much less any sort of personality. He’s emotionless, a “good guy” for good guy’s sake. It’s no secret that Gosling is talented, disciplined in the craft of acting. But there’s not much material here for him to work with. Rather than giving him the chance to develop his character into a complex human being without the constraint of excessive dialogue, this lack of any backstory proves to be a serious limitation. Perhaps director Nicolas Winding Refn assumed that audiences would be blinded by Gosling’s good looks, but outside of a romantic comedy, that just doesn’t cut it.

Mulligan’s character is equally bland. She doesn’t seem terribly upset about the fact that her husband is in jail, and being with the driver doesn’t give her any particular spark that makes the audience say, “they should be together.” I couldn’t figure out any reason that they should, other than the fact that they’re neighbors and it’s convenient. With the short blonde hair and petite physique, Mulligan looks almost exactly like Michelle Williams in Blue Valentine, which elicits a strong feeling of “been there, done that”. It’s nice to see Bryan Cranston and Christina Hendricks in roles outside of AMC, but their parts in the film are so small that it seems like a tremendous waste of talent.

The pacing is inconsistent; some sequences are incredibly slow and without much motivation, while others snap from one action-packed shot to the next with little time in between to allow the audience to catch up. The film starts out on an excessively saccharine note as we observe the romance develop between Gosling and Mulligan. But about midway through, it suddenly takes a bizarre and jarring turn towards gratuitous violence. Some of these images are so disturbing and impossible for the viewer to get out of their head – which would be permissible if the audience went in with any idea about what was to come. Unfortunately, Drive offers no such disclaimer, and those looking for a bit of The Fast and the Furious-esque fun will be sorely disappointed. (Those looking for a film that displays the craft of filmmaking in its most excellent form will be devastated).

For a film titled Drive, the film has very little to do with the physical action of driving. Apart from a quick car chase that opens the film, and another near the end, Gosling primarily operates on foot. The cinematography is beautiful, but doesn’t enhance anything inherently powerful in the script like good cinematography should. The gore effects are impressive, but can be overwhelming given the context.

Drive has already garnered a devoted fanbase and the approval of many critics, but this viewer remains unimpressed. The tone, motivations, and technical elements do not work together to create a cohesive piece of work, and this can only be attributed to one thing: bad direction.

I realize I’m in the minority, but there is nothing “driving” me to see this film again.

The Tough Ones (2011)

          Successful directors can take a strong vision and see it through to completion. If the story and characters are important enough to them, it becomes immediately evident in the finished product. No element lacks in devotion and care, and each enhances the next. A perfect example: The Tough Ones, a short film written and directed by Konish Dutta.
          While home for Thanksgiving, personal trainer Adam (Michael King) discovers his fifteen-year-old brother Gary (Casey Adler) being bullied at school. Middle brother Vince (Gary Iacobucci) rushes to Gary’s defense, but Adam intervenes, arguing that Gary must learn to stand up for himself. Adam pushes Gary further and further, and it’s only when the three brothers end up lost in a forest that Adam realizes that everyone has a breaking point.
          The brothers are fleshed-out and real, and their actions are motivated by emotions the audience can easily relate to. It is amazing that three intricate human beings can both be introduced and grow in a mere fifteen minutes, but Dutta and his actors manage to do just that without overwhelming the audience or slowing down the pace of the film. King’s Adam is relentless and severe, but its obvious that his tough love is, in fact, based in devotion to his family. Iacobucci makes for a cocky and sometimes irritating Vince, while still retaining an endearing compassion toward Gary that makes him impossible to truly dislike. Adler gives the youngest brother an initial submissiveness that gradually turns into strength and independence. The relationship among the brothers changes as their circumstances become more dire, but their core personalities remain the same. This relationship is so authentic that it comes as little surprise that Dutta himself is the oldest of three brothers.
          Taking his responsibilities beyond those of many directors, Dutta assisted editor Darren Virtue and sound designer Catherine McGourty in many aspects of postproduction. He even tackled the daunting task of scoring the film. Music is used sparingly so as to emphasize the naturalistic feel of such an earthy setting, but Dutta drops it in during a few appropriate moments to underscore the melancholy of the situation and to foreshadow the events to come.
          Dutta’s collaboration with cinematographer Taylor Mahony is most notable. Every shot was meticulously planned, placing the audience alternately close enough to experience the growing tension and far away to emphasize the emotional disconnect between the brothers. The very last shot in particular is haunting in a way that the viewer will never forget, not necessarily for what is happening within the frame, but for the way in which the camera accentuates the action. This is the only film I have seen where the cinematographer is credited alongside the director - a true testament to the significance of Mahony’s contributions.
          It is certain that Dutta will continue to pursue his passion for filmmaking, and if his most recent project is any indication, he’s off to a promising start. The Tough Ones is an emotional journey - it’s simultaneously hopeful, inspirational, funny, and sad. It is also a prime example of dedicated technical craftsmanship. For these reasons and more, The Tough Ones would indeed be a “tough one” to miss.