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Frost/Nixon
By Scott Mendelson
The idea of Richard Nixon being brought down because of a burglary and/or an attempt to bug the offices of the Democratic National Committee (and the subsequent cover up) is a lot like Al Capone being busted for tax evasion. Of the countless illegal and immoral deeds that Richard Nixon committed (countless politically based wiretaps, accepting illicit campaign contributions, engaging in harassment against political enemies and/or peaceful opposition groups, the bombing of Cambodia etc), the crime that actually caused his downfall was a minor one in the grand scheme of things. But there is something almost nostalgic about a time when citizens were actively outraged by shenanigans in the highest office, and partisan politics took a temporary backseat to do something about it.
Frost/Nixon is an adaptation of a stage play that details the build-up and production of four interviews between former president Richard M. Nixon and British television host David Frost in 1977. The interviews were quite important as they were the first to be conducted since Nixon resigned from the Oval Office. This was to be the first, and best chance, to theoretically heal the nation by getting Nixon to come clean about his criminal culpability. Would this lightweight showbiz interviewer be able to match wits with a master politician, or would be play an unwitting role in rehabilitating the image of the hated ex-president?
In a rare move, both of the original play's leads reprise their roles for this Ron Howard-directed film version. Frank Langella once again portrays Richard Nixon and Michael Sheen again takes on David Frost. Langella won a Tony in 2007 for the stage version, and he has a pretty solid shot at an Oscar nomination for this film version. While Richard Nixon is basically a supporting role (he's barely in the first half of the picture), it's the kind of flashy, pomp-and-circumstance role that the Academy loves to honor, especially when delivered by older veterans who haven't really had the chance to shine over the years (let's face it, most of Frank Langella's fan base knows him as 'the guy who played Skeletor').
The rest of the cast shines just as brightly. Michael Sheen has the difficult task of keeping Frost sympathetic while he consistently underestimates the demands of his task. However, the most entertaining beats involve Sam Rockwell and Oliver Platt. Rockwell in particular excels as James Reston Jr., who desperately wants to use this interview to 'give Nixon the trial he never got'. Oliver Platt is less overdramatic as ABC news honcho Bill Zelnick, but it's always a joy to watch him play subtly sarcastic, intelligent men of authority.
But, alas while the film is exceptionally acted and the story is usually entertaining, the sledgehammer attempt to equate politics and journalism with a sporting competition (such as a boxing match) slowly turns the film into something resembling a Rocky sequel. We have the initial training montage (research and practice interviews), the initial defeat (the first days of interviews), followed by the rehabilitation and potential for climactic redemption. We even have the equivalent of the late-night cramming session, where the lead character finally gets motivated and tries to learn a whole administration's history in a single night. If Ron Howard wanted to make a political drama into a underdog sports film, he would have been wise not to hit every cliché in the genre.
Not helping matters is the inclusion of a fictional late-night conversation between Nixon and Frost, which serves to give Langella the required 'big scene' as well as give Nixon the chance to explain his entire character arc. While entertaining, the scene feels like such a screenwriter's crutch that it could only be justified as good drama if it actually happened. It may be the clip that will be used in various awards shows, but it's the most artificial and phony bit in the whole film.
And, in the end, aside from historical anecdote, what is the long term consequence of Frost's potential victory against Richard Nixon? If we are to view this film purely as an acting treat and a tidbit of little known history, then it works as a solid entertainment, a fun glance at political theater. But it fails to achieve any deeper meaning, and it fails to convince us that the interview had any implications beyond one man's mea-culpa (besides, in our society, nothing rehabilitates an image like a humbled apology). The legacy of Nixon is a complicated one (by today's skewed standards, his politics would almost be considered center-left). Other than some fine moments by Langella and some nice supporting turns by Platt and Rockwell, and Kevin Bacon, Frost/Nixon fails to add anything of substance to the history that it portrays.
Grade: B-
MILK
By Theodore Ott
I'll say it right now and get it over with. .I expect this movie to snatch Oscar® nominations in at least the categories of Best Picture, Best Male Lead (Sean Penn), Best Director (Gus Van Sant), and Best Male Supporting Actor (James Franco or Josh Brolin). If it doesn't then there's something deeply and organically wrong with the Academy. This is not an easy film to watch, but it rewards any audience lucky enough to score a ticket.
Sean Penn is, as a celebrity personality, a very large presence, but in a measure of his acting genius, his celebrity persona is completely subsumed into his character. Literally, within only moments, Penn disappears and Harvey Milk emerges with pulsating, raw, vitality. Despite what we all know of Penn's unimpeachable heterosexuality, his Harvey Milk is gay to the bone and there are neither false steps nor non-committed moments.
Harvey Milk was a New Yorker who uprooted himself and moved across the continent to build his version of the American Dream. He opens a camera shop in an area called The Castro and sets his roots down. Within less than ten years, Harvey Milk had midwifed the emergence of The Castro as a gay mecca, run repeatedly for office until finally being elected to the Board of Supervisors of the City/County of San Francisco, established the Gay Rights Movement in San Francisco, beaten back a right wing political attack and been murdered.
Van Sant has assembled a cast of incredibly talented actors to tell the story. Fresh from his triumph as G.W. Bush in W, Josh Brolin delivers the kind of seamless performance that would stand out in any year. Don't be shocked if he garners nominations in both the Lead and Supporting Actors categories. Diego Luna Alexander is brilliant as a bi-polar, traumatized soul seeking, ultimately unsuccessfully, to come to grips with his Latino heritage's view of his life-style.
There are no performances that are just phoned in. None! Under Van Sant's deft direction the actors stay in their moment and resist the temptation to play the denouement before they get there.
The only sort of jarring bit is the heavy use of archival and news footage in the beginning to set the mood and tone. They made this audience member wonder if we were going to see a documentary or a theatrical piece. But, that is quickly resolved as, once the parameters are set and Van Sant has us all on the same page, the film takes the bit between its teeth and we're off to the races. This is one of those films that everyone will be talking about in no time and if you haven't seen it, you'll be out of the conversation.
'YES MAN'
NOD TO CARREY FUN
By Sean Chavel
Yes Man marks the return of the kind of Jim Carrey movie we liked seeing ten years ago. The high concept comedy that Carrey could juice for all its worth. In this one, Carrey plays a sourpuss loan broker who turns says no to everybody around him and turns down his own life. He avoids social gatherings to the point where he misses his best friend's bachelor party. He puts his cell phone on silent mode all the time. He ducks out of conversations two moments too early. If he'd just give himself and the other person two more moments, great things will happen!
That's my editorializing, not the movie's. But anyway, we want to root for Carrey's character Carl Allen to stop living life like such a loser. Stop giving up before he tries. When Carl goes to a self-empowerment seminar, a motivational guru played by Terrence Stamp challenges him to say "YES!" to everything for now on and reap the rewards. Thousand other seminar attendees are yelling at Carl to say cheese and agree, too. The
pressure is on.
The first test is for Carl to drive a homeless man to Elysian Fields. The homeless man uses up the rest of his cell phone minutes. The car gets a flat tire at the end of the destination. Grouchy Carl is left hiking down the trail to a local gas station. The silver lining? He meets an awesome girl! Take note: Her name is Rachel and she's played by Zooey Deschanel ("Elf," "The Good Girl"). They will kiss but not go out on a date right away. But remember her because she will re-enter Carl's life later on.
Carl goes from party pooper to 24-hour party guy. He reaches out to the humble. He goes to work on Saturday when his boss asks him to come in an extra day. He goes to his boss' Harry Potter dress-up party. He goes on impromptu plane trips (eventually accosted by FBI and mistaken as a violator of the Homeland Security Act.) Situation jokes like that are sometimes funnier than the one-liners.
No modern day comedy can be without one truly risible and obnoxious scene that should have been left on the cutting room floor (it involves Carrey unable to say "No" to a flirtatious geriatric neighbor), a scene that goes too far. It's the 21st century comedy rule that comedy can exists unless it gets gross at least one time. Say yuk all you want, I mean, get over it. It never seems like we will ever get a comedy again without at least one awful gross-out. Learn to forgive (forgive bad scenes) and move on.
I would like to report I was laughing out of my seat during a barroom scene where a soused Carl criticizes a dirtbag for undervaluing his gorgeous girlfriend and then refusing to turn down a fight outside that Carl couldn't possibly win. It's the holidays, I deserve a big laugh. In-between all the drug abuse movies and racial persecution movies it feels good to walk into a movie like this one. Another upshot: I like comedies about grumpy guys that get their happiness revitalized once again. His doldrums life becomes joyful.
Simple acts of goodness begin to payback Carl ten-fold. That job promotion came way too easy! All those friends are practically bouncing on his lap! Facial mannerisms are liberated, a lá, Carrey gets in touch with the old face contortion-twist Carrey! Back when Carrey used to be fun! No god awful traces of Carrey from "The Number 23" here. Carrey the broad comedy actor is back in full swing.
Yes (no pun intended), I nearly forgot that Carrey did do a comedy a couple of Christmas seasons ago called "Fun With Dick & Jane" but let's face the fact that it wasn't all that fun because it lacked humane spirit. "Yes Man" is gimmicky good fun, but if you dislike package-formula comedies than you will probably go all scrooge on this one. But if you're like me, and you like all those Jim Carrey early funny ones, then you are going to like this one.
'CADILLAC RECORDS'
HIGH CHESS
By Sean Chavel
Cadillac Records is a flavorful overview of the R & B music of the 1940's era concentrating on a label sprang out of Chicago started by Leonard Chess (Adrien Brody), also originating from his first association with guitar virtuoso Muddy Waters (Jeffrey Wright). Waters rises on the record charts making both men rich - the music becomes legendary, the personal lives turbulent, and the money spent capriciously.
Sounds like every other musical biopic you've seen, but the music and the milieu makes it an alluring and supple experience. Wright is such a tremendous actor ("Basquiat," "Broken Flowers," "W.") that if you know his work, you come to desire to see him brace every scene of an entire movie. For awhile, Wright's embodiment as Muddy Waters is a constant show-stealer, but you come to realize that the whole movie isn't about just him. Other musical artists on the Chess label make their names.
So while Wright's Muddy Waters eventually gets less screen time, the plus side is getting to know other prime figures from old school R & B. All of them are wonderfully played by a top-notch cast. Eamoon Walker as Howlin' Wolf, Beyoncé Knowles as Etta James, Colombus Short as Little Walter, Cedric the Entertainer as Big Willie Dixon, and Mos Def as Chuck Berry. All of them are given the ample screen time to express their robust personalities in and out of the recording room. But one wishes that the Chuck Berry portrayal was given more internal depth, although filmmaker Darnell Martin lets us get to know Beyoncé's talent by showing us the full blown troubles of Etta James.
Leonard Chess (Adrien Brody), known for issuing brand new Cadillacs to any signed talent that sells their first hit record, is the magnet of the entire movie. His wife at home is played by the beautiful but passive Emmanuelle Chriqui (TV's "Entourage"), but it's his conduction of his music business that takes precedence in this film. Chess was perhaps the first guy to use payola as a business tactic. Payola was when record producers would pay off dee-jays to play their artists on the air. The film takes a quick glance at payola without really exploring into it. That's another casualty that occurs when you try to pack in lots of great materials into one story package.
Brody, in short, is a steadfast anchor for the film who believably earns the veneration from all the artists who work underneath him. But in an industry that leads its artists to temptation in sex, drugs, booze - it's anticipated that a few talents will blow their fuse. You have to wonder, for instance, if harmonica prodigy Little Walter (Columbus Short) would have had a lengthier career had he not trashed his own cred. Rising to such egomania, he eventually gets clubbed to a pulp by provoked policemen.
Then there was Chuck Berry, perhaps the granddaddy of rock n' roll (Chess believes the R & B market was dying, thus, Berry's rock n' roll tunes augmented). Berry's records were hitting #1 on the charts but an arrest for illegal transport of a female minor across state lines got him thrown into prison, and put his career on hold. Mos Def, as Berry, gets the exuberant "duck walk" right on and gets a couple of in-custody scenes to depict his disbelief into the scandal. But all famous stories get condensed.
The film is well-paced and never lags, but it's also structured like a greatest hits album sampling of the criteria highs and lows. But once the script touches all the bases, the eyes always get drawn back to the mesmerizing Jeffrey Wright and the chuckling rumble of his voice. His Muddy Waters is also a philanderer, but his fixation on his long-faithful wife at home (played by Gabrielle Union) adds to the drama of sex, unfaithfulness, jealousy - and back to renewed love again. Wright exudes charismatic gusto in heavy drama. There's no other actor out there like him.
What a good movie this is and what a great movie this could have been, too! Running at 1 hour and 48 minutes, the movie leaves you hungry for more. And also makes you wonder why the title isn't called "Chess Records" which would make more sense. Or maybe "Cadillac Men." Or "Chess Records and the Cadillac Men." Beyond that, next I'd like to see a whole biopic devoted to Chuck Berry with Mos Def in the lead. And find another plum part for Jeffrey Wright. He can disappear into anything.
Nothing But The Truth
By Scott Mendelson
Rod Lurie's Nothing But The Truth is the very definition of professionalism. It is a rock-solid entertainment, made by adults, starring adults, and intended for adults. In a film industry less dominated by more fantastical genres, it probably would qualify as a B-movie. But, in today's kid-friendly and fantasy-drenched multiplexes it stands out as that rarest of things - a quality drama for grownups.
The plot is a moderate reworking of the Valerie Plame/Judith Miller story from summer 2005 In very brief, New York Times reporter Judith Miller was jailed for a time for refusing to reveal a source on a story (written by others) that revealed the identity of a CIA operative Valerie Plame. Plame's husband had written an embarrassing editorial debunking on one of the main justifications that the Bush administration used for war with Iraq. The story here is slightly different. In this case, Washington-based reporter Rachel Armstrong (Kate Beck-insale, capping a solid year that started with Snow Angels) refuses to reveal the source of leak regarding the identity of a CIA officer (an Oscar worthy Vera Farmiga), whose husband revealed that Venezuela was wrongly blamed for the assassination attempt on the president.
As you can see, this slight change almost qualifies as cheating. In Lurie's version, the reporter may be reckless in exposing the identity of an undercover operative, but she's still on the side that wishes to expose the corruption of a sitting (right-wing) president. In the real story, Judith Miller was helping to cover up those who exposed Plame's identity as an act of right-wing political retribution. It didn't help that Miller was one of the primary cheerleaders in the run up to the Iraq invasion, her work was eventually so debunked that she was allegedly forced out. First-amendment die-hards like myself were torn that summer, but the constitutional martyrs are not always the good guys. It would have been interesting to see Lurie paint a sympathetic picture of a war-monger and lousy reporter, playing the righteous victim as she went to jail to protect the tenants of her profession.
But, that is not the film that Lurie wishes to make. And the film he has made is a very good one. Presented with a bare minimum of melodrama, the film focuses on the plight of Armstrong while also dealing with the aftershock for CIA agent Erica Van Doren. As Van Doren is repeatedly grilled by her superiors (who think that either she is the leak or she sloppily disclosed her identity) and Armstrong is threatened with jail time, we realize that we sympathize with both of these women. Surprisingly for a Rod Lurie picture, the film goes out of its way to avoid painting anyone with a particularly villainous brush. Even the bulldoggish Special Prosecutor (Matt Dillon) is not evil, but simply dedicated to a course of action that the film does not agree with.
The rest of the film is exceptionally cast. Alan Alda has several winning scenes as a once powerful attorney who eventually takes Armstrong's case (he knows full well that the press no longer has the support of the public it attempts to inform). David Schwimmer does understated work as Armstrong's embittered husband, and Noah Wyle has fun as the increasingly flustered representative of the newspaper in peril. Only Angela Bassett is underserved, as she's given too little to do as Armstrong's sympathetic editor.
There really isn't much more to say. The story unfolds pretty much as you'd expect it to, with a couple mild twists along the way. That the film stands up for reporters' rights over national security is kind of a given. Farmiga does some of the best work of her career, even if it's too understated to attract much attention. Beckinsale has a great moment when she acknowledges the double standard of women/ mothers sticking up for principle to the emotional harm of their children ("you can trust reporters, unless they're mothers, cause then they'll eventually crack"), and every major character is portrayed as intelligent, principled, and at least partially sympathetic. This is simply a smart film filled with smart actors who play smart characters.
It is a shame that it is likely to be lost in the December awards derby, since surely it would have gotten more attention as adult counter programming in the spring or summer (why oh why can't the studios release 'award-worthy' movies all year round?). But Nothing But The Truth absolutely deserves your attention. It rises to the level of quality that we should not take for granted, even while we wish we could. It's just a darn good movie.
Grade B+