The man behind Austin Powers and Meet the Parents, Jay Roach, joins the podcast today to talk about his new film, Trumbo, starring Bryan Cranston as legendary Hollywood screenwriter Dalton Trumbo, whose career was cut short when he and a handful of his associates were blacklisted due to their association with the communist party. Bernard goes solo to review Tom McCarthy‘s newsroom drama Spotlight as well as share his Indie Pick of the Week.

Topics

• Indie Picks (1:23)
• Spotlight (5:28)
• Trumbo (26:49)
• Jay Roach (35:39)

Articles Referenced

Trumbo Review
Spotlight Review
Doomsdays Interview
Doomsdays Indiecast

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The Catholic Church’s sex abuse scandal is subject matter that evokes feelings of sorrow, disgust, confusion, regret, anger—bottom line, it’s one of the most unpleasant news stories to come to light in the past 50 years. Several documentaries have been made about the controversy (most notable is Amy Berg’s penetrating 2006 exposé Deliver Us From Evil), and each one is a horrific experience, for obvious reasons. Now, director Tom McCarthy examines the scandal with his incredible newsroom drama Spotlight, which focuses on the grinding efforts by a small team of reporters at the Boston Globe to break the conspiracy story. It’s a movie that has every right to be entirely dour and depressing—but is not.

It doesn’t deflect or skate around the terrors lived through by the priests’ young victims, and yet it still crackles with electricity. It’s both powerful and—get this—entertaining. The wound inflicted by the perpetrators and those in the Catholic hierarchy who protected them won’t heal anytime soon, but with Spotlight we’re reminded that, in the spirit of free press and honest reporting, there lies hope for justice.

McCarthy doesn’t present the reporters at the center of his story as paragons of journalistic nobility or even as Bostonian hometown heroes. It’s a more modest, workmanlike procedural that’s as, if not more concerned with its characters’ psyches, ideas and idiosyncrasies as it is with their hard-nosed truth-gathering efforts. Heading up the Globe’s Spotlight investigative department is editor Walter “Robby” Robinson (Michael Keaton), who’s spent years building unshakeable trust within his small team, Sacha Pfeiffer (Rachel McAdams), Michael Rezendes (Mark Ruffalo) and Matty Carroll (Brian d’Arcy James).

Their new boss, editor Marty Baron (Liev Schreiber, in a measured performance that could be his career-best), is slightly cold and semi-robotic in temperament (he and the gregarious Robby share an awkward rapport), but with his arrival he brings Spotlight a mission of utmost importance, motioning them to look deeper into the case of an accused priest. His directive is met with skepticism both by Robby’s team and the Globe’s higher-ups (personified by a John Slattery, playing the boss’ boss’ boss) due to the church’s strong presence in the city, but when the team begins gathering details and testimonies, it becomes clear that the church could very well have been covering up child-sexual-abuse scandals on an unimaginable scale for a long, long time.

The film is gripping in the way it follows the team’s cumulative breakthroughs on their path to uncovering the ugly truth about the Catholic Church to the public because it does so on a personal level. We see each of them put their nose to the grindstone as they search for clues high and low. They haul boxes and boxes of old files and articles from the Globe basement to their offices, sifting through everything by hand. Sacha goes from door to door, pen and notepad in hand, getting to know the tortured victims and their stories. Michael hounds an elusive attorney (Stanley Tucci) who’s worked closely with the victims for years. Robby incessantly pesters a tight-lipped lawyer (Billy Crudup) to give him a list of names that could blow the case wide open. Seeing the characters not just get their hands dirty, but deal with the psychological trauma of studying and living with these atrocities for months on end.

Keaton’s ball-of-fire turn in Birdman didn’t earn him an acting Oscar, so it’s a bit of a surprise, in that context, that he’s put his hat in the awards ring again with a performance that’s so low-key and operates mostly on undercurrents. He’s quiet and extraordinary, though the even quieter Schreiber threatens to steal the show with a cerebral supporting effort that will likely usher in a new era in the Ray Donovan actor’s career. Ruffalo, McAdams and the supporting cast are great as well, and if the Oscars gave out awards for ensemble casts, this lot would easily run away with it. The way the actors interact and move around each other feels so dynamic and pulsating and alive that the gravity of the story will sometimes dissipate for a moment as you’re caught up in the cast’s sizzling chemistry.

Intricate work is done by McCarthy and co-writer Josh Singer to ensure the movie can’t be read as a blatant attack on the church. It’s undeniable that their presence in the city was, in a way, mafia-like (they did cover up a bevy of serious crimes, after all), but McCarthy and Singer refuse to exploit the narrative in a way that cheaply villainizes them. The real villain here is the idea of institutionalized secrecy. Staunchly, the filmmakers focus on Spotlight’s investigation and the emotional trials the journalists faced. It’s really a class-act of a movie, with all involved approaching the material as tastefully as possible without losing a modicum of artful intent on the way. Spotlight is the best kind of newsroom drama in that it doesn’t get weighed down by meditations on the virtues of old journalism. Instead, it celebrates the people who changed the world with unglamorous, day-to-day, hard work.

Two heavy Oscar hopefuls opened the Mill Valley Film Festival last night as Tom Hooper‘s The Danish Girl and Tom McCarthy‘s Spotlight played to packed movie houses surrounded by towering redwoods in downtown Mill Valley and in San Rafael just a few minutes up the road. Both directors were in attendance to introduce their respective films and participate in Q&As before the crowds hurried to the open-air Opening Night party to pass around their thoughts on the films.

Teamwork Makes the Dream Work

The cast of Spotlight is arguably the best ensemble you’ll see in a movie all year. If the Oscars gave out Best Ensemble statues they’d have it in the bag, hands down. Starring Michael Keaton, Rachel McAdams, Mark Ruffalo, Stanley Tucci, and Liev Schreiber (whose top-notch performance will likely go unappreciated in the coming months), the film feels dynamic and alive and spontaneous despite its true-story roots. It recounts the breaking of the Catholic church child molestation cover-up by the Boston Globe’s “Spotlight” news team, an investigation that shook Boston to its core. While reviews coming out of TIFF have gotten movie lovers across the country itching in anticipation to see Tom McCarthy’s latest, I feel compelled to offer a word of warning: This is an excellent movie that’s also decidedly humble; don’t expect any loud, earth-shattering performances or slow-motion, tearful eruptions meant to entice members of the Academy. Spotlight stays right in the pocket, which is exactly where it should be.

Butterflies Are Free To Fly

One of the big shockers from the Oscars last year was Eddie Redmayne‘s Best Actor win, as many expected Michael Keaton to go home with the prize (including Keaton himself). Well, the young British charmer is in the race again with The Danish Girl, the Tom Hooper-helmed historical drama about trans icon Lili Elbe (Redmayne) and her wife, Gerda Wegener (Alicia Vikander). Lili’s rebirth as a woman in the 1920s (she was formerly known as Einar Wegener, a successful painter) is a staggeringly beautiful story in real life, but Hooper’s picture is too glossy and overly poetic to be truly inspiring. Redmayne exudes femininity and is as good on-screen as ever, and Vikander is his equal, but the dialogue is so maudlin that many moments, especially later in the film, feel hollow and disingenuous. The actors are knockouts across the board, though. Matthias Schoenaerts, Amber Heard, and Ben Wishaw round out a wonderful supporting cast, though the film never provides a solid enough platform for them to look and sound their best.

After an evocative opening credit sequence featuring warm, grainy 8mm footage of old buildings in New York City that harkens back to the ’70s “director’s era”, Fading Gigolo locks its gaze on a charming book shop. Murray (Woody Allen), the owner of the soon-to-be-closing shop, suggests (in a fidgety, roundabout way that’s classic Allen) to his friend and employee Fioravante (John Turturro), that they enter a pimp-prostitute partnership to make some much-needed dough, Fioravante is audibly trepidatious, but barely flinches at the preposterous offer. He barely flinches at anything really, as is demonstrated in the rest of the film: his default reaction to any situation is a melancholy, almost expressionless stare.

This sequence is a good indicator of things to come. The well-written, interesting characters populating the film (written and directd by Turturro) seem to flock to Fioravante, with his low-key, knowing, guru-like aura. The problem is, he’s the most uninteresting character of the bunch, making the film feel a bit lopsided. Still, it’s an ultimately worthwhile experience. (Woody Allen is John Turturro’s pimp. That’s a priceless setup no matter which way you slice it.)

The film is an earnest, tender take on the world’s oldest profession, steering clear of many tropes of the subgenre and focusing more on the healing properties of the human touch. Fioravante’s new career as a high-end gigolo gets off to a great start, to his surprise. His clients (Sofia Vergara and Sharon Stone among them) gravitate to him because he treats them with respect and a gentle touch, awakening in them something that undeniably feels like love. He’s a natural, and business is booming, with Murray handing out business cards at local hangouts.

When Murray sends an extremely orthodox widow named Avigal (Vanessa Paradis) Fioravante’s way, however, things get more complicated, as he finds himself becoming emotionally attached to the fragile, meek mother of six. Their sessions consist of sensual therapeutic massages that unlock suppressed emotions in both of them. It’s a deeply moving, wordless exchange between the two, beautifully directed and shot by Turturro and DP Marco Pontecorvo. Paradis is a showstopper, conveying tidal waves of emotion with her tiny, porcelain face. Every quiver and lip-bite is captured in extreme close-up, underlining the sensuous nature of the experience.

Noticing a marked improvement in Avigal’s typically sullen complexion is the lovelorn Dovi (Liev Schreiber), a local law-enforcement officer for the Orthodox community who’s been in love with her since they were kids. “I’ve never seen her smile…not like this.” Suspicious, he investigates to discover her regular appointments with Fioravante at his apartment. Dovi utilizes every resource available to him (including Secret Service-like Orthodox agents, which is hilarious) to muck up Murray and Fioravante’s business.

Turturro plays Fioravante in such an understated fashion that he comes across as more detached than quietly perceptive. His ultra-low enthusiasm is too disengaging, to the point where, when he’s talking to the unbelievably funny Murray, he virtually fades into the background (pardon the pun). Yes, the at-arms-length nature of the character is by design, but it feels as though Turturro undershot it.

Allen is the crowning jewel of the film, putting on his best performance on film in years. He’s not doing anything out of the ordinary here–he convulses awkwardly when he doesn’t know what to say, his voice goes up and down like a yo-yo as he stammers, he overthinks everything he says–but the difference here is that he embraces the role Turturro’s writing wholeheartedly, aggressively finding ways to make scenes funnier. He even gets to do some physical comedy: When Dovi’s Hasidic SWAT team apprehends Murray and stuffs him into a car to take him in for questioning, he unexpectedly pops out of the opposite door in a feeble attempt to elude his captors, an attempt thwarted quickly. Precious moments like these are vital.

The plot is ridiculous, but the absurdity of it a.l is easily forgiven thanks to Turturro’s disciplined skills as a filmmaker. Many scenes shine, all of them involving either Allen or Paradis. What makes Fading Gigolo unique is its sensitivity toward the female perspective, representing hooking in a positive light as an emotionally therapeutic practice. There’s too much distance between us and Fioravante, however, for the film to go down as a seminal work.

Fading Gigolo trailer

This past Sunday, I saw a pair of fantastic adaptations of prize-winning books: Deepa Mehta’s adaptation of Salman Rushdie’s epic Midnight’s Children, and Mira Nair’s take on Mohsin Hamid’s cultural drama, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, starring Riz Ahmed, Liev Schreiber, Kate Hudson, and Keifer Sutherland. The screenings were held at San Francisco’s beautiful Castro Theater, which is one of my favorites in the Bay Area.

After the screening of The Reluctant Fundamentalist, the red carpet was rolled out for two of the stars of Midnight’s Children, Satya Bhabha (Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, The New Girl), and Samrat Chakrabarti (The Waiting City). After the red carpet, I moved up to the mezzanine for a pre-screening party with amazing Indian food and delicious sweets from Jade Chocolates. Following the screening of their film, Bhabha and Chakrabarti answered a few questions in a fun and engaging Q&A. This was the strongest day of the festival so far, and I highly recommend both films.

(Satya Bhabha & Samrat Chakrabarti)

The Reluctant Fundamentalist

An adaptation of Mohsin Hamid’s bestselling novel, Mira Nair’s The Reluctant Fundamentalist follows Changez Khan (Riz Ahmed), a Pakistani pulled in two directions by his American dream and his devotion to his native Pakistan. It’s a startling commentary on the dangerous fundamentalism that is shared—frighteningly—by both terrorists and anti-terrorists.

The story begins in Lahore, Pakistan in 2011. The city is in a state of unrest due to the the American military presence. Changez—deemed a ‘person of interest’ by the CIA—is interviewed by an American reporter (Liev Schreiber) about his life from 2001 leading up to the present: He graduated college, made a name for himself on Wall Street, and found a beautiful American girlfriend. He was a man living out the American dream. However, after the terrorist attacks of 9/11, the the country he had learned to love ridiculed and reduced him to his fundamental form: a Pakistani. A foreigner. His American dream was ripped away in an instant. The United States turned its back on him and he endured emasculating interrogations and hateful accusations. It’s this dismissal of humanity, of the individual, that Changez aims to combat.

Nair does a good job of getting the message across, but the story is a little indulgent and hits the nail on the head too hard. Ahmed’s performance is impressively subdued and paints the picture of cultural divide better than the script does. The difficult and uncomfortable situations he is put in speak a little too loudly, but he sells them like a pro. The rest of the cast are excellent as well, with Keifer Sutherland being the standout as Changez’s omnipotent boss and mentor on Wall Street. Declan Quinn’s lush cinematography looks absolutely slick but gets dirty when it needs to. The ending is disappointingly trite and doesn’t resonate emotionally, but the film hits a good pace leading up to that point, which is difficult for such a weighty two-hour drama.

RATING: 7.7

Midnight’s Children

Deepa Mehta and Salman Rushdie give us a lot to digest in their adaptation of Rushdie’s award winning novel, Midnight’s Children. Maybe a little too much; this film is DENSE. Themes, images, symbolism, plot points, and new characters are thrown at us at such a speed that by the end of the film, it’s hard to remember it all. The good news? Everything presented is wonderful; the film is visually breathtaking, deeply moving, epic, and joyously whimsical. Watching Midnight’s Children is like trying to eat a huge bowl of ice cream as fast as you can; it’ll all be a blur, it’ll give you a headache, and you’ll wish you could have taken your time, but it’s also delicious and incredibly fun, and you’ll look back on the experience fondly.

We follow Saleem (Satya Bhabha), who was born at the stroke of midnight at the precise moment India gained its independence in 1947. As he grows older, he discovers two extraordinary things: he can telepathically gather every other child born at the moment he was (hence the title) for pow-wows in his bedroom, and secondly, his life story is somehow linked to the political trajectory of India and its people. Saleem finds himself in a dangerous love triangle with two other Midnight’s Children, the kind, diplomatic Parvati (Shriya Saran), and the bull-headed Shiva (Siddharth), who was switched with Saleem at birth.

Rushdie wrote the screenplay himself, which is apparent in how caught up he gets in the details of the narrative. It’s obvious that he couldn’t help but try to cram in as many moments from the book as he could. That’s common fault in book-to-film adaptations. However, the essence and spirit of the book remain intact, so the script’s density far from a deal-breaker. The hopeful tone of the film feels just right, and there are several powerful moments throughout that are guaranteed to rouse and inspire you. Rushdie narrates the film himself, which provides a nice thread to tie the branching narrative together, but is otherwise unnecessary.

Mehta’s visuals are intoxicating, a rush of color and life that you won’t be able to take your eyes off of. Everything looks magical while representing India with sincerity and love. An exhilarating bit involving a low sweeping camera and Saleem dancing the twist in glistening sunlight comes to mind. This is eye candy on the highest level.

The cast is excellent across the board, delivering the exuberant dialog with flair. Bhabha couldn’t have done a better job. He gives his all in every scene and is irresistibly likable and sympathetic. Midnight’s Children is a sprawling epic that feels slightly bloated, but constantly excites the senses in a way that will keep you enchanted from beginning to end.

RATING: 8.2