November Movie Roundup

AN EDUCATION:
I already wrote about this one in my last post. Suffice to say it's one of the year's very best, the very definition of an instant classic. Carey Mulligan, Alfred Molina, and the rest of the flawless ensemble astound. A.

PRECIOUS:
This movie is so hyped that it'd have to cure the common cold to meet everyone's astronomical expectations for it. I don't know if Precious will change your life. It didn't change mine. But it did challenge me, repulse me, move me, and occasionally frustrate the hell out of me. This is a movie spilling over with heart, ambition, and good intentions. While telling the story of the titular character (Gabourey Sidibe), an illiterate 16-year-old pregnant with her second child and living with her monstrous mother Mary (Mo'nique), director Lee Daniels sometimes dives off the deep end, indulging in absurdist fantasy sequences and false uplifts that have no place in this story. Other times he errs in the other direction, showing too much of Precious troubles and coming off as lurid and exploitative. Even with the movie is all over the place, what stays solid are the performances. Let's start with Sidibe, a major major MAJOR discovery. Rather than Hollywooding her way through what could've been one hell of a showboat role, she plays Precious organically, eschewing Big Moments for a knockout of a cumulative effect. Mo'nique, the most buzzed-about actress of the year, lives up to all the hoopla. Mary is a broken woman who seems to have nothing left to do other than break those around her. Mo'nique captures that aimless, hungry drive so fully that the mere sight of her character entering a scene frayed my nerves. Mariah Carey and Paula Patton, given thankless roles as inner-city educators, do impressive work. The film's visual style is striking, and for once here's a pop soundtrack that enhances a film rather than distracts from it. Precious is a sloppily structured mess, but as far as messes go it's one of the best I've seen. B+

PIRATE RADIO:
This is the story of (Tom Sturridge) a teen growing up in the 60's who escapes his mother (Emma Thompson) and is brought back to life by the spirit of rock, the promise of love, and the sheer badassery of Philip Seymour Hoffman. And it's not Almost Famous, although I liked the film better when it had that name. No, this is Pirate Radio, an amiable, faux "bawdy" ensemble piece that must've been twice as much fun to film as it is to watch. As the characters buck the British establishment by blasting illegal rock music from their "Radio Rock" boat, director Richard Curtis puts them through a series of absurd situations, most of them involving those old comedy warhorses of Sex or Fat People (or fat people having sex), none of them as funny as he thinks they are. These characters do degrading, silly things in the name of music. But we never get how much the music means to them. Without motivation for said farting and frolicking about and sexual wackiness, the whole thing wears you down, the very opposite of what a good comedy should do. Props to Kenneth Branagh, genuinely hilarious as a government baddie, and Emma Thompson, who chews the scenery for five blessed minutes. But for the mostpart, Pirate Radio invites us to watch an A-game cast and crew show us their B-game. C-

THE ROAD:
This is not No Country for Old Men 2. This is not the Best Movie Ever Made, though the book it was adapted from is one of the best ever written. This is not destructo-porn. What this is is a movie about hope, and a very good one at that. The Father (Viggo Mortensen) and The Boy (Kodi Smit-McPhee), journey through the bombed-out remains of a world that's almost totally destroyed. They're headed to the sea, for no other reasons than that they hope something's there, something of worth and humanity in world without either. This is not a movie world; this is a real world, so ashen and spare that the chill of it all seeps into your bones. In this world they meet awful people, good people, wounded, desperate, hurting people, and they pray they'll never have to use the two bullets they have left, least of all on themselves. The trailer sells this film all wrong-it's not an action flick. It's a saga of Father and Son, and one that could've very well fallen apart had even the slightest casting error been made. The two's duet, however, is absolutely flawless. I envisioned Mortensen as the Father when reading the book, and was thrilled upon hearing of his involvement in the movie. Here he has exceeded even my high expectations. The man is a master, and he is in peak form here, giving the kind of understated, quietly astounding performance that too often gets overlooked. Smit-McPhee gives the best youth performance of the year, showing impressive range for any age. There are scenes of gut-wrenching tension, cathartic tears, even laughter. The full spectrum of the human emotion is covered here. The production values are commendable without being intrusive; these people know when to just stand back and tell a good story. The only mistake Hillcoat makes is inserting a series of sunny flashbacks to The Father's past life with his wife (Charlize Theron). These seem to interrupt the story, not enhance it. Still, Hillcoat has fallen into only one of the millions of potholes he could've tumbled down in adapting such a demanding, unique book. Most great movies make use of the idea of Discovery; Luke Discovers the message from Leiah, Rick Discovers Ilsa's past, Oskar Schindler discovers the true extent of Nazi injustice, etc. Here, two people discover that, no matter what else is pried away from them, Hope cannot be stolen, and can be held onto, can be used as both a comfort and a fuel to keep on goin'. Today's movie audiences don't know how to shut up; this one simply sat there for a while as the credits rolled, totally silent, shaken and stirred by the power of art. A-. (PS. READ THE BOOK, DAMNIT.)