In the opening scene of Kenneth Lonergan’s Manchester by the Sea, Lee (played by the underappreciated Casey Affleck) asks his nephew Patrick (Lucas Hedges) who he’d rather have with him if he got trapped on a deserted island; his father Joe (Kyle Chandler) or his uncle. He chooses his dad. This hypothetical question sounds arbitrary at first, but it becomes vital to the story as the film progresses.

Jumping ahead several years to the present, Lee lives a lonely, emotionless life as a handyman for an apartment complex. Something tragic happened to him that caused him to be this way, and everyone around town has their own rumor about him. One day he receives a phone call from the hospital informing him that his brother has passed away. Lee learns that he’s now the parental guardian of his nephew, Patrick, even though it’s quite obvious he’s not able to handle that level of responsibility.

Through various flashbacks (sometimes it’s difficult to tell the past from present since Affleck doesn’t seem to age) it’s divulged Lee had a wife (Michelle Williams) and three young kids. Lonergan (Margaret, You Can Count on Me) carefully fills in missing parts of the story, one fragment at a time. Manchester by the Sea primarily focuses on the relationship between Lee and Patrick as they try to cope with various tragedies.

Nearly every aspect of Manchester by the Sea is expertly crafted. Lonergan demonstrates tremendous grace in all of the heartbreaking moments, an area where some filmmakers lay it on too thick. The cinematography and editing are terrific and, aside from an oddly placed Matthew Broderick appearance, the performances are as well. There’s a masterful scene late in the film between Affleck and Williams that’s so powerful it may leave you in tears. Manchester by the Sea is a revelation, a story about admitting defeat and dealing with consequences.

Rating:
8.5/10

Todd Haynes’ gorgeous new film Carol is a delicate, romantic examination of queer identity in the 1950s. Based on the Patricia Highsmith’s novel “The Price of Salt”, about a virginal shop girl named Therese (Rooney Mara) who falls for the titular Carol (Cate Blanchett), this understated lesbian romance is an often joyous look at a blossoming relationship that transcends all obstacles of its era. Articulating that imperceptible pull of deep affection, Carol is wonderfully acted by its two leads. Mara and Blanchett develop an instant, intriguing chemistry that breaths life into their reserved initial exchanges. The immaculately crafted love story demonstrates the power of genuine connection, regardless of gender.

Haynes and his actors are able to express more with a lingering hand on a shoulder than most romances achieve in an entire film. Opening with a nervous dinner between Therese and Carol, the pair of women communicate an extensive mutual history without the benefit of the context that will later be added. Blanchett brings a dignified elegance to her fiery character, with a controlled outward demeanor Carol tries her hardest to maintain. To paraphrase a line from Carol’s jilted husband Harge (an excellent, but one-note Kyle Chandler), she’s always the most commanding presence in the room.

Her stoicism gives way when in the presence of her younger counterpart. It’s the radiant Rooney Mara who shines brightest in Carol, in spite of her character’s passive tendencies. The reserved manner in which Mara carries herself—burdened by the men and job that take her presence for granted – slowly gives way to reveal a girl simply unsure of herself. To Therese, Carol is more than someone to love, but someone whose self-assuredness is something to which she aspires (during their first get together, Therese admits she, “barely know[s] what to order for lunch”). To Carol, Therese is an alluring presence that needs to be coaxed out of her shell. Each actor seems charmed by the other’s quirks. It’s only in Carol’s presence that Therese learns to stick up for her own desires.

Carol shares thematic and temporal similarities to another Haynes film, 2002’s Far From Heaven, with the notable difference between being how retrospectively coy Far From Heaven seems by comparison. While Far From Heaven treats its homosexual elements as a reveal, Carol gives the gay relationship center stage throughout. No characters go so far as to use the L-word, G-word or H-word, but they are unrepentant about their “immoral” feelings. Therese and Carol have a harmonious bond. Even with Haynes’ history in making gay-centric movies (Poison, Velvet Goldmine), Carol feels like a step towards normalcy.

Carol could have simply been a story about a relationship falling victim to a bygone age. Instead, Haynes constructs a testament to love’s ability to endure. It’s a beautiful story only partly due to its unfettered handling of the lesbian relationship, but for the precision with which it portrays their romance. There’s a certain stiffness typically associated with Period Pieces—where costumes and era appropriate dialog gets in the way of character. That is never the case with Todd Haynes’ newest film, which uses time period as set dressing for a humanistic drama. The production details are flawless and immersive, but Haynes’ camera draws attention to his actors’ faces and their mindsets.

The culmination of Therese and Carol’s romance comes naturally. Haynes teases out the process until it seems as if the two are simply meant to get together, and that first blissful moment they share is exciting and moving. The film’s careful finale is Carol at its most tender, ending on a touchingly delightful note in sync with the rest of the film. It’s hope from the past to give us hope for our future.

Martin Scorsese went cold after surprising everybody with his 2006 Best Picture winning The Departed. Years of toiling for Oscar with big-scale period epics like Gangs of New York and The Aviator reaped little reward. Instead, it was a violent, rapidly-paced gangster picture with its loose roaming camera that finally gave a great director his due. In the seven years since, he’s made a slick thriller from a popcorn crime page-turner (Shutter Island), a couple of music documentaries (Shine a Light and George Harrison: Living in the Material World), a love-letter to his art disguised as a family movie (Hugo), but nothing to match the equal parts existential tragedy and offhanded comedy of the aforementioned Oscar champ; his best film since setting the mold with Goodfellas. Cue The Wolf of Wall Street, the 5-times nominated gonzo Jordan Belfort biopic that, while hardly ‘indie,’ is more against-grain than you’d think.

Working from a script by his Boardwalk Empire collaborator and show runner Terrence Winter, with The Wolf of Wall Street  Scorsese sets a feverish pace and never lets up, as if defying anyone to get bored across its epic, 180-minute runtime. A quick scene-setting with a wide-eyed graduate Belfort and his mentor, Mark Hanna (Matthew McConaughey, who can currently do no wrong) thrusts us right into the mindset of the wolfish stockbrokers that guide the audience through this twisted version of that elusive dream: pump some people up, screw some people over, then subject mind and body to enough excess to forget the amorality of it all. The film doesn’t waste it’s time getting into the specifics of the acts of swindling executed by Belfort and his merry pack of deranged bandits. Scorsese is more focused on the life they lived as a result of it: the seductive extravagance of it, the excitable glee we feel toward it as we live vicariously through the actions unfolding. It’s a hardline stance against giving the film a moral compass to relate to (and Academy members love their moral compasses) that has equally found detractors decrying Scorsese’s glorification of the depravity, and champions praising the artistic verve in his aligning the camera with the repugnant pricks, so that we experience the same empty, uncaring attitude they hold for their victims; the same selfishly indulgent attention for only their possessions, their own highs, their own comedowns and sexual coups.

It’s brash, bold filmmaking, but those qualities are worn like a face tattoo: overtly apparent and even attention-seeking, as if Scorsese wanted to subtly remind us he made Goodfellas by taking a megaphone into an echo chamber and blaring “Remember when I made Goodfellas?!?” Leonardo DiCaprio gives a brilliantly committed performance as a classically deluded Scorsesian protagonist, blind to his steadily advancing comeuppance because his brain renders ideas quicker than his rearview can reveal the speed bumps. But when he breaks the fourth wall to remind us we don’t really care about the technicalities of what he did, it’s his best Henry Hill conceding to the artifice of the work of art. And when he’s doing his best His Left Foot, in a magnificent expired quaaludes sequence that’s both a peak and nadir in Belfort’s story, it’s with the kind of satisfying, outwardly showy performing that makes you miss the frustrated, inwardly-focused anguish that so marked his unawarded career-best work in The Departed.

Still, add in the comic chops of Jonah Hill, as deranged caporegime Donnie, and a relatively unknown Margot Robbie (as Belfort’s second wife, Naomi) — who, for better or worse, has nailed the sort of role that will make her a lot better known — as well as bit parts from Hollywood’s finest just-shy-of-A-Listers (McConaughey, Kyle Chandler, Jean Dujardin, to name a few), and The Wolf of Wall Street offers more than enough to satisfy at the cineplex. It’s an explicitly funny, absolutely entertaining three hours that nonetheless leaves us with a distinctive sense of emptiness, despite the fullness of aesthetic experience to which we’ve just been subject. Scorsese means precisely to close the film with his camera turned back to the audience, with a moment that — in perhaps another nod to The Departed — is almost cheekily literal. In spite of its length, it’s been said that The Wolf of Wall Street barely scratches the surface, hardly covering half of the story contained in the book. It may have just been a running time thing. Maybe I look too hard for poetics. But I like the idea that Scorsese wanted his audience to close the loop by design.

The Wolf of Wall Street trailer:

Considering James Ponsoldt’s first two films (Off the Black, Smashed) deal with alcoholism, it comes as no surprise that the subject is also baked into his third film, The Spectacular Now. This time around the theme is buried underneath the surface of a high school coming-of-age film that demonstrates there is more to life than living in the spectacular now. There is more to appreciate than to despise in The Spectacular Now, largely due to the outstanding performances from the two leads that transcend the film beyond just an ordinary young adult drama.

The Spectacular Now begins not unlike other of high school dramas, with an 18-year-old named Sutter (Miles Teller) recalling how the love of his life Cassidy (Brie Larson) recently broke up with him. Everyone in the school thought they were the perfect couple and together they were the life of every party. After a long night of partying in an attempt to free his mind from his recent breakup, Sutter wakes up on a random lawn to the sound of a timid girl named Aimee (Shailene Woodley) calling his name. Aimee recognizes Sutter from school, but the familiarity is not mutual. As with most high school stories the popular student is completely unaware the quiet nerdy student even exists. However, instead of viewing her as solely a rebound girl (like what typically happens before realizing they are good together) he takes a genuine interest in her from the very beginning.

Sutter is known as the sarcastic class clown at school and the person everyone wants to be around at parties. He subscribes to the ‘living in the now’ philosophy, though to a punishing fault. His literal interpretation of this viewpoint means that he takes absolutely nothing seriously. Slowly he begins to realize that his classmates not only think he is the class joker, but also someone who is destined to go nowhere in life. The ultimate eye-opener for him is when he meets his father for the first time since he was a child only to discover he does not want to windup like him.

When you first see Sutter drinking alcoholic beverages at parties you do not think much of it. After all, it is a somewhat socially acceptable occurrence regardless of the fact he is underage. It is when he busts out his flask seemingly everywhere (including his job!) that we begin to notice a much larger issue at hand. And so does he. Because of Aimee he begins to think about consequences for the first time.

Both of the main character’s weaknesses stem from their strengths. Sutter’s flaws are easily seen in plain sight, living in the moment without ever thinking about his actions. But his shortcomings are not as exasperating as Aimee’s are because he is a troubled teen who is smarter than he appears; whereas Aimee seems to contradict her intelligence by repeatedly making poor decisions. While her unconditional affection towards Sutter is inspiring most of the time, her willingness to always look the other way, turn the other cheek, and to forgive everything he does can be frustrating to watch. Specifically, there is an incident late in the film that would have been a wake up call for most people, or at the very least a chance for her character to stand up for herself for once. In the grand scheme of things however these are admittedly only minor complaints to otherwise enjoyable characters.

Because the story has so much depth to it—much more than your typical teenage drama—it is easy to tell The Spectacular Now is based on a novel. Each character in the film has a specific purpose not only to the story, but meaningfully intricate to one another as well. For these reasons it is easy to compare this production to The Perks of Being a Wallflower, another come-of-age story that successfully transitioned from novel to film.

Credit the writing for creating a redeeming character that makes you want to reach out to stop him from ruining his life, but also for allowing the character to be smart enough to so himself. You must also give credit to the two main leads who help make some of the familiar plot devices feel fresh again. Far too many teenage dramas are content with staying within the boundaries of the schoolyard, in this case placing all the focus on Sutter’s temptations with getting back together with his ex. Fortunately, The Spectacular Now introduces a darker side of the film that helps separate it from its competition.

The Spectacular Now trailer

Super 8 is a summer blockbuster film by director J.J. Abrams that contains obvious hints of Spielberg throughout. The film is both entertaining and predictable when a group of adolescent filmmakers stumble upon a magical discovery. It is everything you would expect from a summer blockbuster; it’s exciting, entertaining, mindless and the plot could have used a little work.

Super 8 takes place in a small Ohio town set in 1979, with 12 year old Joe Lamb (Joel Courtney) helping his friend Charles (Riley Griffiths) make an 8mm zombie movie for a local film festival. Those two have a few other friends to join them that are committed to filmmaking as well. Together they try keeping it mostly a secret from their parents as best as they can.

Somehow the group of boys gets the attractive girl, Alice (Elle Fanning), to star in their film but she is reluctant when she figures out Joe is a part of it. This is because she is driving her father’s vehicle without a license and Joe’s father is a deputy. Joe is at first shocked that she even knew who he was and tells her that he will never tell his father about it.

Once they arrive at the train station where they are going to shoot the next scene, they begin to setup lights, get makeup on and rehearse the lines. I must say it was truly impressive for a group of 12 year olds. As they are reading their lines everyone is taken aback at how wonderful Alice conveys emotion through her lines. She does so in a way that is brilliant because you can tell she is acting like she is acting.

The scene suddenly gets a huge break when they hear a train coming on the tracks next to them. Charles realizes that this opportunity will add a great amount of production value to the film if they can use it in the scene. So Charles rushes everyone into position and starts filming.

Everything goes as planned and the scene nears the end as the train is passing until Joe witnesses something odd. He spots a pickup truck getting on the tracks and heading towards the train at full speed. The train and pickup collide head-on that derails the train and setting off an enormous explosion. The camera gets knocked over on its side during all the commotion but continues to film the entire thing.

The group slowly wanders around the site looking at all the train parts on fire when they spot the truck that caused the accident. They approach the truck cautiously and find that the person behind the wheel of the truck had a schedule of the train. The man who is barely alive tells them not to tell anyone else about the accident.

You cannot read any reviews of this film without someone comparing this to a Steven Spielberg film but it is easy to see why. First of all, Spielberg is an executive producer of this film. Second of all, the film contains a ton of classic Spielberg elements such as; having a small courageous group of friends who all vary in different talents that are slightly beyond normal for their age. In my head I could not stop comparing this to a modern day version of The Goonies. It did lack one element that Spielberg seemed to always nail, an amazing original soundtrack.

Oddly enough, I was least impressed with the main character’s acting; Joel seemed to lack emotion that Elle and Riley expressed. Elle Fanning’s performance stood out the most for me but knowing that she is the younger sister of actress Dakota Fanning, it is not surprising she has so much talent. I would be shocked if she did not start getting some larger roles and later down the road pick up an Oscar for one of them.

I very much enjoyed the first two-thirds of Super 8 because it was focused much more on the group of kids trying to make a film together and less on the monster itself. However, the film seemed to abandon that in the last third of the film. This made it seem like the whole idea of them making a film for a festival seem like an afterthought by showing it in the ending credits only instead of referencing it again beforehand. The film is called Super 8 after all. I wonder if they won the local film festival?