BIG SCREEN: 12 Years A Slave Revieux (Rated R)

It’s always chancy to read the book before seeing the movie that’s based on it. Way too often the book is a thousand times better, so the movie suffers in comparison. But I threw caution to the wind and read Twelve Years a Slave by Solomon Northup prior to the screening, with mixed results.

First of all, I really, really, really think the book should become required reading for high school kids. The perspective on slavery – and lesson in humanity -- is truly like no other. It’s written by an African-American man who was born a free man in 19^th century New York state. He enjoyed a pleasant, comfortable life with a wife, family, home, education, and respect from his racially mixed community. While he was certainly aware of the institution of slavery in the South, he was far removed from its terrifying reality – just like those of us who have only read about it in text books. So, when he describes being kidnapped, sold into slavery, and forced to endure all the ensuing horrors and hardships, the reader is able to identify with him, and experience the utter shock and hopelessness right along with him.

The movie -- which stars a perfectly cast Chiwetel Ejiofor as Solomon and was shot in and around New Orleans -- remains quite faithful to the plot and overall tone of the book, eschewing unnecessary dramatic elements, and sticking with a very realistic and stark portrayal of his journey.  Both the book and the movie are surprisingly even-handed in the portrayal of the very ugliest aspects of slavery, as well as the slightly less brutal side – which is, at best, depraved indifference, as opposed to outright depravity. In the movie, Michael Fassbender turns in a MASTERFUL performance as Edwin Epps, the heartless slave owner who terrorizes Solomon for ten of his twelve years in captivity. On the other end of the spectrum, Benedict Cumberbatch plays Master Ford, a much more sympathetic man, who is obviously conflicted by slavery, though still a very willing participant. (Brad Pitt, one of the producers, *somehow* managed to land the pivotal role of the film's ultimate good guy. Which is fine, I guess. I mean, he was the boss and all, but his presence is sort of random and disruptive, if you ask me.) 

One of the benefits of having read the book is the slight advantage of knowing what’s coming. Not that it’s easier to see the nightmares and heartbreaks play out on screen, but having already experienced them in written form allowed me to sort of steel myself a bit more when I knew tough, tough scenes were coming. But they are, indeed, still very tough to watch.

Anyone who hasn’t read the book will probably be completely unaware of what I consider to be a really important missed opportunity in the movie. What makes the book so powerful is Solomon’s voice. His eloquence, gentle insight, and even his incredibly detailed understanding of the mechanics of running plantations and their mills, creates more depth of character, and it establishes a respectful intimacy with the reader. So, why in the world didn’t the movie use a little voice over narration to replicate a little of that intimacy and point of view? I think it would’ve elevated a very good movie to a GREAT one. But, they didn’t ask me, so there ya go.

Overall, I highly recommend 12 Years a Slave. Phenomenal cast, haunting locations, and some pretty devastating directing. It's truly astounding to know you're basically watching reenactments of real events that happened to, and because of, real people. The movie may be a bit too brutal for younger teens, but the book is a must.

12 Years a Slave is now playing in theaters. For local theaters and showtimes, please go here.

BIG SCREEN: Blue Jasmine Revieux (Rated PG-13)

I suppose I should preface this by admitting that I was already a total jittery wreck, full of decongestant and coffee, when I arrived at the screening of Woody Allen’s latest film. I would’ve either skipped that last coffee, or maybe sucked down a Bloody Mary beforehand had I known more about the nature of Blue Jasmine. But, as per my usual pre-screening habit, I made sure not to read anything about it in advance so that I could be pleasantly surprised. 

(It has nothing to do with being lazy and unprepared. Really.)

So, the plot… Cate Blanchett plays a woman named Jasmine, and she’s really unhappy. (Get it? Blue Jasmine?) She’s a pampered Park Avenue wife who’s trying to regain her footing after her unscrupulous husband (Alec Baldwin) gets taken down by the feds, leaving her homeless and penniless. With nowhere else to turn, she moves in with her estranged, blue-collar sister Ginger (Sally Hawkins) in San Francisco, and thus begins her steady decline into madness.

She's much like I image Annie Hall would’ve turned out, if she’d gone on to become a shallow, soulless socialite. She’s perpetually nervous and jumpy, she talks to herself in public, and is quite fond of booze and pills. Despite feeling like I needed to breathe into a paper bag just watching her, I was willing to see where this anxiety-ridden little ride was heading at first. But I started to disconnect when I was expected to believe that a socially agile, modern woman -- who’d spearheaded multiple Manhattan charity events -- would have no idea how to operate a computer. As in, could barely turn one on. As in, she couldn’t even shop for Louis Vuitton bags on the Nieman Marcus website if her life depended on it.  And it’s the only thing keeping her from launching an interior design career, and therefore getting her life back on track.  M-kay.

What saves this movie from being totally "meh" for me is Cate Blanchett’s beautifully executed portrayal of this woman’s tragic and sloppy decline.  Impeccably dressed, but sporting perpetual mascara smudges and a Stoli buzz, she give us insight into the perspective of those wealthy women who enjoy their husbands’ ill-gotten riches, but turn a conveniently blind eye to the piracy behind the acquisition of the treasure – a la, Ruth Madoff.

Yes, this is definitely the Cate Blanchett show. But while none of the supporting characters were particularly interesting (Alec Baldwin as a morally corrupt husband? Ho-hum. What a stretch.), it was a treat to see an aging Andrew Dice Clay and Louis C.K. take on rather non-comedic roles. 

Being that I’m a big Woody Allen fan, I have certain expectations of his projects, and was pretty bummed when I realized this movie was not going to be chock full of his usual witty dialogue and playful neuroses. That, in itself, is not a crime. I guess he was going for a little social commentary and a character study, which I could appreciate, but overall, it really never hits its stride.

Bummer, indeed.

Now, where's that Xanax?

BIG SCREEN: Trance Revieux (Rated R)

I'm always excited about seeing a Danny Boyle film. He has such a signature energy that I always connect with, and this energy leaped off the screen from the very first scene in Trance.

Trance tells the story of a fine art auctioneer named Simon (James McAvoy) who gets caught up in a brazen heist. With the assistance of his charming, Scottish voiceover, we’re shown the auction house’s detailed security measures, then we witness a choreographed robbery, and Simon’s subsequent head injury at the hands of one of the thieves.  When the thieves discover they don’t actually have the valuable painting they thought they'd stolen, they go after Simon, who is now suffering from amnesia. To locate the missing painting, they enlist the help of hypnotherapist, Elizabeth Lamb (Rosario Dawson). And this is when the real fun begins, as there's a lot more than they bargained for locked up in Simon's injured brain. The movie becomes a big, tangled web of recalled memories and post-hypnotic suggestion, which are often indecipherable from each other.

Okay, is this really happening? Or is he under hypnosis? Who is actually recalling this memory? Who’s the real bad guy here? Wait, I’m perplexed. Whoa, Rosario Dawson is completely nude -- the girls got guts (and a rockin' bod)!

Working off the premise that seeing is not necessarily believing, This twisty, turny little romp employs all the wit and cadence and cool music that come standard in the artistic arsenal of director Danny Boyle to offset all the violence and confusion.

McAvoy is a delightful cross between Ewan McGregor and Edward Norton, and Vincent Cassell, as the leader of the band of crooks, is a charismatic scene-stealer. But, Dawson actually holds her own amidst a big cluster of dudes. One minute  a beguiling minx, the next a terrified victim, she is an essential component in the unpredictability of the movie.

Trance is a crisp, energetic, mind-trippy little caper. I’ve never had so much fun being left a bit baffled and unsure if I actually reached the correct conclusion in the end. 

BIG SCREEN: The Place Beyond the Pines Revieux (Rated R)

While I’ve never truly understood why so many women are so rabidly ga-ga for Ryan Gosling, I will say that opening a movie with images of his shirtless torso covered in tattoos is quite a pleasant attention-getter. And having him straddle a motorcycle with a cigarette dangling from his lips, yeah – I'll admit that had a little bit of a ga-ga effect.

In The Place Beyond the Pines, a bleach-blond Gosling plays a gritty motorcycle daredevil, aptly named “Awesome Luke,” who performs with a traveling carnival. When he reconnects with a former conquest (Eva Mendes), and discovers that she has given birth to their child, the nomadic bad boy decides to stick around and give fatherhood a go. Having grown up without a father himself, he has no clue how to be one, and comes to the misguided conclusion that robbing banks is his best option for providing for his child.

Bradley Cooper plays a cop whose run-in with Luke forever alters his life, and the lives of both of their sons. And thus begins a chain of events that affect and connect two generations of the two families. The movie strings together three separate narratives that illustrate the dramatic domino effect, set in motion by Luke’s choices.

Sounds interesting , right? In theory, it is.

Out of curiosity, I scanned the internet to see what other reviewers thought of the movie, and sure enough, I found that I’m in the minority in my lack of enthusiasm for it. The premise is certainly intriguing, the cast is great (it's sort of a battle of blue-eyed brooders, if you will), and I think it had the potential to be really cool. But, to me, it was poorly executed and the pacing was atrocious! I checked the time at about an hour in, and realized I still had an hour and twenty minutes to go. I managed to contain my audible groan, but just barely.

Many people say it’s brilliantly clever, but I must have had a rare moment of clairvoyance, because I saw most of it coming from a mile away. The movie certainly maintains a very dangerous, desperate vibe throughout, but I just didn’t find the characters sympathetic or compelling enough to keep me adequately invested the whole time. As far as I know, I don’t suffer from A.D.D., but it felt like the movie slowed to a snail’s pace, and it lost me more and more as it progressed.

I was also very disappointed to see Ray Liotta and character actor Robert Clohessy tossed in as ubiquitous two-dimensional, almost cartoonish bad cops. Why try to elevate such throw-away characters by using such familiar, beloved actors who are capable of so much more? Quite a letdown.

So, bleh. I had high hopes, but The Place Beyond the Pines just left me flat. Bummer.

BIG SCREEN: Stoker Revieux (R)

From the opening scene, it’s apparent that Stoker is no cookie-cutter film. The whispery voice over and highly textural sights and sounds certainly create an immediate sense of foreboding, and spark curiosity. You know the old saying, “It’s not what you say, but how you say it?” That sort of applies here.

So, the plot… an odd young girl named India (Mia Wasikowska) -- who’s fully embraced the whole somber, Wednesday Addams, goth vibe -- has just lost her beloved father (DermotMulroney), and is left to wander the halls and grounds of her grand Connecticut manor like a ghost. She and her mother, Evelyn (Nicole Kidman), cannot relate to each other in the slightest, and this relationship further deteriorates when long-lost Uncle Charlie (Matthew Goode), suddenly arrives for the funeral. He’s an impossibly handsome and charming man, but with a severely disturbing and mysterious aura. Evelyn is smitten, India is both drawn to and repelled by him, and a sense of danger invades the already-morose household.

But what’s going on here? He’s an excellent cook who never eats. He’s always got a smarmy grin on his face. And he seems to just appear out of thin air. Is he a vampire? A serial killer? An apparition? Or just a twisted dude who may or may not be hot for his brother’s widow… and possibly his niece?!

Ew.

While the audience is left to wonder what exactly is amiss, the movie treats us to some gorgeous, stylish photography accompanied by captivating audio. There’s certainly a horror aspect to the movie, but it’s treated quite artfully. It’s creepy, but not campy. There’s a great deal of suspense, but it’s never heavy-handed or overly dramatic.

In his English-language film debut, acclaimed South Korean director Chan-wook Park creates a visceral appeal that keeps us engaged as we’re teased by the allure of an explanation that remains just out of reach for much of the movie. While the resolution is not quite as satisfying as I’d liked for it to have been, the whole experience is still rather enthralling.

I call it form over function, but a no-nonsense Cajun friend of mine in the movie business summed it up thusly, “At first, I didn’t think I’d be able to sit through that crap. But, for some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen.” (He’s got a way with words.)

BIG SCREEN: Amour Revieux (PG-13)

I was so excited to finally see Amour, the French film that’s up for Oscars in the categories of Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actress in a Leading Role. I had read nothing about it, so I had no real expectations, but I’m a sucker for arty foreign films. And, I mean, a French film called Amour? Pass the champagne and bring on the high-brow, chic, European romance!

Um, yeah. Not that kind of amour.

This Amour is the story of an elderly couple, Georges (Jean-Louis Trintignant) and Anne (Emmanuelle Riva), whose pleasant, comfortable life together is cruelly disrupted when Anne suffers a series of strokes that slowly rob her of control of her body. Georges resists suggestions from others to institutionalize her, opting to care for her himself at home. Naturally, this becomes increasingly difficult, and his love for her is put to the ultimate test.

So, yeah -- the subject matter is pretty bleak, but it certainly sets the stage for an amazing love story. Unfortunately, the film is so dedicated to portraying the ugliness of physical decline that it fails to give enough attention to beauty of love.

While I applaud the film's brutal honesty, I really wanted to see more dimension. Georges and Anne’s devotion to each other is apparent, but I found myself wanting to catch a glimpse of how things were between them in happier, more youthful days. I wanted a more complete picture of these lovely individuals and their relationship so that I could become emotionally invested, instead of merely witnessing this painful deterioration. As it stands, Amour felt more like a documentary than a fictional film. This is, of course, a testament to the actors’ incredibly believable performances, but other than a few tender moments and a couple of snapshots in a photo album, there’s no real context beyond this almost clinical look at the cruelty of aging.

Now, I’m not one who requires sappy music and a happy Hollywood ending, but this thing should come with a free prescription for Zoloft, for Pete’s sake! I got a little satisfaction out of the ending (I won’t ruin it for you), but I still walked out of the theater wondering if I should rush home to write out my living will, or just go suck on an exhaust pipe, and get it over with!

I think Ms. Riva is certainly deserving of her nomination, but I’ll be shocked if Amour takes home any other awards. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try to lighten up with a volume of Shakespeare’s tragedies while listening to "La Boheme."

Amour opens in New Orleans at The Theatres at Canal Place on Friday, February 15.