Fledermaus34 Reviews

Bad Education (2004)

A movie lover's dream come true.

[10/10 · 10 October 2004]

This is a difficult film to write about. For one thing, to describe the plot would be to give away the twists and thus spoil its surprises; but for another, it's impossible to take a great work of art and put it into words. That said, here goes:

Truth be told, it was the promise of Gael Garcia Bernal (whom I've loved since "Y Tu Mama Tambien") in drag that piqued my interest in seeing "Bad Education." The only other Almodovar movie I'd seen before this was "Talk to Her," which I was on the fence about, but if Gael Garcia Bernal was involved, I was happy to give Almodovar another shot. (Interestingly, "Bad Education" has given me a new appreciation of "Talk to Her." The two films share a lot of themes -- false identity and self-creation, the willful self-deception and fantasy of falling in love, the spiritualization of aesthetic beauty -- not to mention a hypnotic use of music, an indifferent attitude towards women, and a few actors I recognized.)

Almodovar's genius in both "Bad Education" and "Talk to Her" is his ability to set the scene, stringing the audience along, lulling it into a sense of comprehension and security, and then suddenly turning the tables with a twist of such dizzying magnitude that the mind, reeling, forced to give up on trying to understand, must just relax and allow the movie to take over -- miraculously, all without leaving the audience feeling manipulated. In "Bad Education," he takes this device to breathless, upper-atmospherical levels, for with each twist, the film takes on a new genre.

It begins as a tender coming-of-age story, interspersed with boarding-school flashbacks reminiscent of such French fare as Louis Malle's "Au revoir, les enfants" and François Truffaut's "L'argent de pôche," although I sensed a lot of Fellini in the mod outfits, feathery hairstyles, and picturesque bicycle-strewn streets. Probably the most romantic segment of the film, it alludes even to "Breakfast at Tiffany's" (Henry Mancini's "Moon River" hasn't been employed so creatively since last year's "Angels in America"). Indeed, the performances are so endearing, the cinematography so warm and luminous, that this segment of "Bad Education" could easily exist as its own self-contained movie. I was fully prepared to embrace it and love it as a sincere period romance.

But without warning, the film turns itself upside down and becomes an exhilarating meta-commentary in the vein of Charlie Kaufman's "Adaptation" (complete with crocodiles). Romance turns to farce and tragedy to comedy as the self-consciously cinematic style gives way to the silliness of a movie-within-a-movie.

Unlike "Adaptation," though, "Bad Education" goes on, and in this way it retains its heart and soul. Further twists are introduced, and the movie metamorphoses into a mystery, a thriller, a dark rain-soaked noir -- by the end, I felt as though I had just lived through a hundred years of cinema history, all condensed into less than two rich, glorious hours.

So what holds it all together? The answer is Gael Garcia Bernal. He is a true movie star -- divinely beautiful, dazzlingly charismatic, with that all-important aura of mystery -- and though he virtually plays five characters as his character transforms along with the film, his strikingly calm blue-green eyes and sensual mouth provide a steady center for the madness around him. Despite the rumors of his abusive treatment on set at the hands of Almodovar, Garcia Bernal has a dignity (without which "Bad Education" would collapse under the weight of its own intelligence) that no amount of makeup, wigs, dresses, induced anorexia, or fake Spanish lisping can mask.

"Bad Education" was one of the most intense movie-going experiences I've ever had, and if its future doesn't hold critical acclaim and recognition as a classic, then there's no justice in the world.

Erin Brockovich (2000)

An all-American Hollywood no-brainer.

[27 August 2003]

We've all heard the story of Erin Brockovich by now: a plucky, down-on-her-luck single mom takes on an evil corporation, gloriously beats all the odds to avenge the humble townsfolk, and lives happily ever after. "Kind of like David and what's-his-name!" she exclaims at one point, and yes, a straightforward David and Goliath story is exactly what it is. The good guys are very very good; the bad guys are very very evil. There is no moral ambiguity here. "Erin Brockovich" is as black and white as an Oreo cookie, and as sugary.

That said, it isn't a badly made David and Goliath reenactment -- on the contrary, it is as polished and professional as a movie can get. Susannah Grant's screenplay is dutifully by-the-book in its tidy structure; setup, confrontation, and resolution are laid out with a correctness that would make Syd Field proud. Stephen Soderbergh's direction bathes everything in a comforting sunny glow. The good guys are played by attractive actors; the bad guys are all ugly and say things like, "You can't scare us, we're a twenty-seven-million-dollar corporation!"

Julia Roberts as the eponymous heroine sure is plucky. She may be down on her luck, but she's got pluck coming out of her ears and cleavage. That's why she's able to curse so boldly at her evil male oppressors, even as she cares for her three obnoxiously angelic blonde children and wanders around doing what I guess is supposed to be housework. We know that a girl like that can't possibly lose in a movie like this, so all we have to do is sit back and wait for her to overcome her obstacles. Ms. Grant has, of course, kindly written in a love interest for her as a diversion from her relentless overcoming.

Ms. Roberts isn't exactly a brilliant actress. She's not, for example, Julianne Moore, who conveys infinite depths of subtle emotion with the tiniest twitch of her face. And I'm yet to be convinced that Roberts has any range. Still, I can't imagine anyone else in a role like this, because Julia Roberts can do what few actresses can: she can carry a movie. Erin Brockovich occupies every single scene here without a single consistent partner, which would be daunting for anyone, but Roberts confidently yanks hold of the screen and lets the movie hang on her like a flattering cashmere sweater. And she looks great in it, almost too great -- "I can't even pay for my phone," she whines in one scene, but the camera is too busy noticing her gorgeously leggy figure to sympathize much. On the other hand, it would be nice to see a movie about the adventures of an average-looking middle-aged woman who actually does look like she's had three kids. (Shirley Valentine, where have you gone?)

The strange, nagging element of weirdness to "Erin Brockovich" is its unapologetically capitalist worldview. In this movie, litigation is presented as a means to an end, and the end is money. Mr. Soderbergh seems to assume that the proper response to any form of oppression is to press charges, and that enough money will assuage even the most grievous of injuries. Look at the face of that teary, frail wisp of a housewife (Humble Townsfolk Exhbit A) in the end, when she learns how much money she'll be awarded. The score swells; it's a glorious moment. Apparently she's forgotten that she and her entire family are still dying of cancer. Ah, the American dream.

Almost Famous (2000)

Wildly overrated, and Kate Hudson makes me want to rip my hair out.

[5/10 · 15 June 2003]

Attractive movie stars, pseudo-sagacious dialogue, and enough hype to choke on have all conspired to blow this Cameron Crowe movie's reputation way out of proportion. Contrary to popular opinion, viewing this film will not be a life-altering experience; it will not blow anyone's mind or provide an existential revelation. It won't even entertain them much. Unfortunately, "Almost Famous" is crushingly average.

It isn't an awful movie. It has a few good moments, mostly when it doesn't try to be anything more than a wacky period comedy. Most of the time, though, its overblown pretentiousness sinks it into the ground. It's hard to tell if the grandiose mythologizing of rock-and-roll as a way of life is tongue-in-cheek or not; either way, it doesn't make it look like an appealing way of life at all, or even a decadent one--messy and dull is more like it.

The cast must be charismatic for a movie like this to work, but it is sadly inconsistent. Billy Crudup, as Hudson's would-be lover, seems to saunter through the film as though trying to be as handsome as possible, forgetting that he is supposed to act as well. But the most grating aspect of "Almost Famous" is everyone's favorite little ray of sunshine, the irrepressible Kate Hudson. Though nominated by the Acadamy as a supporting actress, Hudson takes up so much screen time she's all you'll remember by the time the end credits begin to roll (with her smiling golden face in the background). Crowe films her as though he can't tear her eyes away from her, and points out her beauty with every shot and musical cue, rather than letting the audience discover it for themselves. Gorgeously attired and carefully coifed, she has the appearance of a pampered starlet rather than that of the scrappy groupie she is supposedly playing. Only at one point does she stop smiling so angelically to let a forced frown and "teary" eye scream out, "Look at me! I'm acting!" (helped along by yet another extreme closeup from Crowe). After such a horrendous overdose, I don't think I ever want to see Kate Hudson in any movie again.

There are a few bright spots in "Almost Famous." Zooey Deschanel is brilliant and tragically underused as always, but she remains one of those actresses who can steal a scene with the tiniest gesture and stay in the viewer's memory forever. Frances McDormand, of course, delivers a properly intense, nuanced, and hilarious performance, but even she doesn't crop up enough. Patrick Fugit, though a rather obvious actor, at least looks the part, and it's a delight to see Anna Paquin in anything, though her role is thankless and nearly lineless. She should have played Hudson's part; Paquin has more sensitivity and vulnerability in her brief cameos than Hudson manufactures throughout the entire movie. Jason Lee plays the oblivous blowhard as well as ever, and Fairuza Balk has a few great moments.

See "Almost Famous" for the first ten minutes, which have virtually nothing to do with the rest of the movie but are brilliantly scripted and acted. Then you can walk out, pretending you've just tasted the first drop of a wonderful movie, rather than the only trace of juice in a lifeless and pretentious disappointment.

Down with Love (2003)

Breezy, sparkly, cute -- an absolute delight!

[9/10 · 18 May 2003]

I like to think I'm above romantic comedies, but I must admit I had more fun watching "Down With Love" than I've had at any theatrically released movie in years. A tribute to the Hudson/Day vehicles of the early sixties, "Down With Love" takes the viewer completely by surprise with the sheer pleasure it offers. McGregor carries this film with his suave, almost jokingly self-conscious sex appeal, but he is in talented company. Zellweger, though overrated in general, is a refreshingly quirky actress whose genuine screen presence develops further with each film she's in; her squinty eyes, bee-stung pout, and squeaky voice are a welcome relief from the plasticky beauty of most leading ladies, and her already-legendary three-minute one-take monologue is brilliantly deadpanned (as is the subsequent, priceless reaction shot). David Hyde Pierce steals his every scene in a winning turn as Catcher's prissy, neurotic companion. The innuendo-heavy script is clever and neatly structured, written by two almost completely unknown screenwriters. The tone is so confident, the look and pace so slick and tidy, it's hard to believe the director's only previous film was "Bring It On." The zippy cinematography is every bit as witty as the script's best lines, and the sets and costumes have the Technicolor ridiculousness of the period down to the last button. Marc Shaiman, who blew audiences away with his songs for the South Park movie and the hit Broadway musical "Hairspray", has composed the perfect backdrop for this story, and his original song performed by McGregor and Zellweger during the end credits is a true cinematic treat. In fact, the movie's stagey artificiality spiked with old-fashioned romance makes it more a Hollywood musical than a chick flick. "Down With Love" has received some flak from purists who believe that its use of the old formula is smug and disloyal. Perhaps they are right; however, they miss the point, the secret that makes the film not just a success, but a near-perfect movie all around--that "Down With Love", unlike almost any other movie you'll find in theaters nowadays, is just plain fun.

Raising Victor Vargas (2002)

Gritty, intimate and lovely.

[8/10 · 5 April 2003]

"Raising Victor Vargas" is a scruffy little gem of a movie. Spanning only a few weeks in very little space, it modestly tells the story of six Hispanic-American teenagers and one fussy Dominican grandmother living in the sweaty, seedy midsummer heat of Spanish Harlem. The kids brag, squabble, and fumble their way through first love, and their interactions are sweet, charming, gently funny, and completely believable. (The kids in the movie weren't professional actors; they were real inner-city kids who were pretty much playing themselves, right down to the first names, and it gives the impression that all the action is happening for real.) Every tiny detail about the set feels right--the crackling hamburger grease, the display rack of detergent bottles in a storefront, the little chocolate stain on Vicky's wrinkled pajamas--to the point of almost transporting the audience there. There's a loose, improvisational quality to the dialogue, and all the characters are so vividly portrayed that they seem as real as family.

Only once does the story go over the top, about two-thirds of the way through, when Victor's grandmother tries to get rid of him. This is not believable and feels contrived, but it works itself out, and the simple, natural performances keep it from being too irritating. The hand-held camera work is blurry and dizzying, so perhaps this is not a movie to see on the big screen, but staying with it is a rewarding experience.

See it for the realism of the city, the sweetness of the romance, the natural dialogue, and the characters--warm, bravado-filled Victor; cool, sexy Judy; shy, endearing Melonie; sulky, chubby Vicky; pining, lisping Carlos; timid, conflicted Nino; and firm, devout Grandma. In fact, see it for everything--everything about "Raising Victor Vargas" is real and, in its way, beautiful.