Against The Hype

In alphabetical order, the tweets I wrote for some of the movies that I caught this past month (vastly under-representative, as I saw 25 movies this month):

ALICE DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE, ’74: Starts treacly, but once mother-son duo hit the road, so does film: flighty & grounded at Alice’s pace of life

ENTER THE VOID, ’09: Low-life melodrama bled through experimental art. “Soul’s eye view” mannered, meditative, crass, whettingly psychedelic

ISHTAR, ’87: So they made HAROLD & KUMAR movies in the 80s, starring A-listers (Beatty, Hoffman) to boot! Preposterous, broad, kinda funny

THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING (Extended), ’01: Expansive, mythmaking

LOVE ME TONIGHT, ’32: Rickety songs, but crisp chiaroscuro, sprightly direction, comic use of sound make up for a lot. “Oh! oh! oh! oh!…”

MEMENTO (Chronological), ’00: Brutally ironic. Memory-loss plot duly serves Nolan’s penchant for exposition. His most moving dead wives, too

NEW YORK, NEW YORK, ’77: De Niro fearlessly mean, Minnelli never splashier; Scorsese milks their push-and-pull with grandiose aplomb

RAGING BULL, ’80: A stylish, dripping biopic of raw male ego. De Niro’s weight flux a bit gimmicky; Pesci understatedly impressive

SCARFACE, ’32: Thrilling eruptions of gunfire abound, and yet hammy and preordained as a Thankgiving dinner. Are remakes hammier still?

SHE DONE HIM WRONG, ’33: Mae West still chews delightfully on her rounded vowels, but scripted quips don’t match her NIGHT AFTER NIGHT debut

STAGECOACH, ’39: Inventive boxing-in of a tiny motley cast across dusty, empty locales, capped with two genre-making showdowns

TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT, ’44: Reprises CASABLANCA’s moods of war-time dissent, quiet heroism, sultry exchanges—and yet never feels copied. How?

THE YOUNG MR LINCOLN, ’39: Atrocious liberal tosh, beautifully staged and lit, tastelessly incoherent on justice and mob rage

In alphabetical order, the movies released in the US this year that I caught this month, then all the others beneath the jump:

BLACK SWAN, ’10: Aronofsky’s mastery of body horror prickles the skin. Other scare tactics, dance clichés, flat character types unimpressive

I AM LOVE, ’09: Lavishes on Tilda’s face and body as it does on hairdos, garments, cuisine. But we see, not feel, as she (and plot) unravels

THE SOCIAL NETWORK, ’10: A new story (Facebook-era entrepreneurship) witticized zippily through old idioms (loneliness of power/fame/riches)

TRON: LEGACY, ’10: Dramatically conflict-free; no human in sight. Scant SFX-on-rails action better than D.O.A. exposition that drags forever

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As the month closes, I’m consolidating here all the tweets on all the movies I’ve seen since I boarded the flight to college, in lieu of the fuller reviews that I haven’t found the time to write. I’ll be listing, in alphabetical order, the movies released in the US this year that I’ve seen, then all the others beneath the jump:

ANOTHER YEAR, ’10: Homely, comic, laced with bitter regret; end chapter tips into frost. A gem ensemble. Staunton haunts, Manville improves

CATERPILLAR, ’10: Assaulting, repetitive, too literal in its nationalistic and gendered metaphors; but in historical context, it kinda works

DOGTOOTH, ’09: Achieves the dark, biting horror of parental overprotection and deceit that Shyamalan’s THE VILLAGE only feigned to hint at

HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS, PART 1, ’10: Cried within opening minute for Hermione’s self-erasure. Mechanical Cliff’s Notes-ing and scenery porn thereafter

IF I WANT TO WHISTLE, I WHISTLE, ’10: Incessantly follows its unlikable lead, with literal closeups on his back. But his unknowability wears thin

THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT, ’10: Milks awkwardness for long stretches, often swerves broad/tasteless for laughs. Still raw and tender, though

UNCLE BOONMEE WHO CAN RECALL HIS PAST LIVES, ’10: Mostly linear Apichatpong: not a good sign. At its best when unpredictable, and steeped in folkloric desire

WINTER’S BONE, ’10: Generic plot of cockblocks shifts to meth gang-fueled jolt, deus ex machina, Oscar clip. Sharper in scenes of domestic resilience

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