When N.W.A. glitched the mainstream radio system with their 1988 breakout album Straight Outta Compton, the five upstarts in black—Eazy-E, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, MC Ren and DJ Yella—branded their fresh, documentary-style take on hip-hop as “reality rap.” They took the country on a sonic tour through Compton, and while the group found mega success, wider audiences weren’t comfortable associating the grisly street stories they heard on the record with their own “reality.” They couldn’t stomach that. Hence, “reality rap” never caught on; the more ostracizing term “gangsta rap” sat better with the mainstream media, as it allowed white audiences to keep “gangstas” like N.W.A. at arms length.

F. Gary Gray reintroduces us to N.W.A. on an intimate level with his music-fueled biopic Straight Outta Compton, chronicling the group’s rise to prominence, their eventual split, and the death of ringleader Eazy-E. Full of good performances by actors who each bear an eye-popping resemblance to their real-life counterparts, the movie works—most of the time. Gray and screenwriters Jonathan Herman and Andrea Berloff at times feel too handcuffed to the group’s well-documented history, breaking up the rhythm of the story to check off a minor, well-documented detail of the journey, no matter how emotionally irrelevant it may be. As a result, the film lacks the same unbridled artistic vitality and brashness its subjects wore on their chests as they roared “Fuck Tha Police” in front of crowds of thousands.

Prioritizing narrative flow and historical accuracy is a challenge that comes with every biopic, but Gray had added pressure; two of the film’s producers are Dr. Dre and Ice Cube themselves. Their involvement is a blessing in that the movie’s first half, focusing on the group’s humble beginnings in Compton, feels alive and authentic. It starts with a young Ice Cube (played by his doppelganger son O’Shea Jackson) and Dr. Dre (Corey Hawkins, another dead-ringer) dropping hard beats and rhymes on a small club crowd who’d never heard anything realer. Determined to unleash their musical vision on a larger audience (larger than their local club, anyway), they convince drug dealer Eazy-E (Jason Mitchell) to finance their dreams. They start up an indie record label called Ruthless Records and hop in the studio, cutting the landmark record the movie’s named after.

Watching the creation of the group’s classic records come to life on-screen is an unfettered joy as a fan. An early scene sees Eazy hop his “non-rapping ass” into the booth as he struggles to find the beat on the Cube-penned “Boyz-n-the-Hood,” squealing the lyrics until Dre cuts him off from the other side of the glass, laughing. After a quick, playful trash-talk exchange, Dre offers some pointed advice, pleading with Eazy to relax and spit the lyrics like he means it, as if he was literally cruisin’ down the street in his ’64. The camaraderie between the actors feels genuine as they jam out in the studio, and there’s not much more you could want than that. Aldis Hodge and Neil Brown Jr. play MC Ren and DJ Yella, respectively, but they’re essentially non-entities in the story. It’s tough to say, but it feels like their C-character status in the film is informed by the public’s perception of the group rather than their value as human beings in the five-way friendship.

When the group hits the stage to perform their protest anthems in front of sold-out arenas, the movie flirts with greatness. A reenactment of the group’s performance of “Fuck Tha Police” at Joe Louis arena in Detroit brings the house down. Before they can finish the song, Detroit police storm the stage and shove the rappers into a van in handcuffs. It’s an exhilarating scene and a poignant one, once it dawns on you that the level of police harassment and brutality hasn’t diminished a bit since N.W.A. lit a fire under the country’s ass back in the early ’90s.

The movie starts to stumble in its second half, in which the rappers’ tight bond starts to crumble under the weight of contract negotiations and management disputes. These showbiz maneuverings were, in fact, what led to the group’s split (and their infamous volley of dis tracks), but in detailing these dealings the film loses a lot of the electricity it generates in the first act. Fan service moments like Dre and Snoop Doggy Dogg conceiving “Nuthin But a G Thang” and 2Pac nodding his head to the piano-driven “California Love” beat for the first time are amusing and full of nostalgia, but they stick out like sore thumbs and interfere with the larger emotional arc.

Eazy-E emerges as the film’s most layered character, with most of the story’s drama emanating from his mentor-student (master-slave?) relationship with the group’s longtime manager, Jerry Heller (Paul Giamatti), the first big supporter of the group who went on to reveal his true stripes as a cunning manipulator (“You’re smarter than this, Eazy!” he repeats) and shameless scam artist (“That’s how business works!”). Mitchell has the most challenging role of all, as our allegiance to Eazy shifts and sways several times throughout the movie. Eazy made some terrible mistakes and had a rabid ego, but was also a visionary and a symbol of strength, especially when he faced death at the hands of AIDS in 1995. Mitchell captures all of the colors of Eazy’s legacy, and there isn’t much more you could ask of him than that.

It’s freaky how much Jackson looks like his dad. Ice Cube is arguably the most lovable/toughest rapper of all time, and Jackson nails that dichotomy with that signature furrowed brow and big, toothy grin. Hawkins nails Dre’s whole “silent rage” thing, but the writers fail him in that they don’t explore the beauty of Dre’s musical thought process, something that’s earned the headphone mogul a reputation as being one of the most gifted music producers in history. With Dre’s deep involvement in the movie’s production, one would hope for a more penetrating insight into the way his mind works, artistically.

Influential and widely revered as they were, the N.W.A. crew weren’t exactly beacons of morality back then, and Gray mostly doesn’t shy away from that fact. Misogyny and violence were significant pieces of the group’s identity, but the movie is selective in its reflection of these less flattering characteristics. The women in the film are universally objectified, with bare, gyrating female bodies populating the screen on the regular. The party scenes look like booty-tastic ’90s rap videos, and rightfully so; this is an example of Gray staying true to the times and the mentality of the group. Like it or not, this is what the hip-hop scene looked like back then. There’s no mention of Dre’s history of violence against women, however, which, unfortunately, makes the story feel less complete.

This is certainly not the first so-called movie rodeo for Gustave Flaubert’s 1856 novel Madame Bovary. The somewhat scandalous (at publication) realist novel has seen many film iterations. Sophie Barthes directs this latest attempt, written by first-timer Rose Barreneche (née Felipe Marino), and it’s rather a wonder that anyone felt that, one, what the world was lacking at the moment is another Madame Bovary adaptation, or two, that quite so much money and talent should be thrown into it. Considering the entire nature of the realism movement—gritty and hard perspectives on those in difficult or lowly situations, meant to show the truth of the human condition—this Madame Bovary is flat and unassertive.

By now Mia Wasikowska must be permanently corset-shaped. She has so many period-set films under her tiny belt. And more to come with this fall’s Crimson Peak . In Madame Bovary she is given some especially detailed, colorful, and decadent dresses to wear over those corsets, and the costuming of this otherwise droll film is quite possibly its most shining feature. But I digress, because despite the dated material they are given to work with, the performances of the film are quite strong. Wasikowska plays the Madame, Emma, who, at a young age, marries a country doctor, Charles Bovary (Henry Lloyd-Hughes) who loves her in an earnest, boring sort of way. Book-read and sheltered away in a convent school for years, Emma, finds married life to be more provincial then she perhaps anticipated. The more she learns of her unambitious husband, the more she finds herself easily distracted by the young law student Leon Dupuis (Ezra Miller looking distractingly pretty) who has captured her attention with his romantic notions and traveled experiences. When he declares his attraction to her, she rejects him but immediately laments that he leaves town.

Determined not to spend the rest of her life passionless, Emma is much more eager to engage in scandal when her next suitor comes calling. The Marquis (Logan Marshall-Green) is rich and red-blooded. They begin a steamy affair as Emma grows bolder, and yet more prone to escapism. With the help of smooth salesman Monsieur Lheureux (Rhys Ifans practically stealing the show), Emma misplaces her ambition into worldly decadence, filling her home with fancy home furnishings her husband can never dream to afford. But being the pushover he is, Charles remains oblivious to his wife’s misdemeanors and their growing debt. Meanwhile, Emma’s life plays out like a sad version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. She tries out Charles (clarly a Mama bear) and he’s too soft. So she moves on to The Marquis (a definitive Papa bear) and he’s much too hard, leaving her broken. Finally she returns to Leon (whose baby-face isn’t the only thing defining him as Baby bear) and he is just right. But this is a morality tale, and we all know things don’t work out for Goldilocks. She needs to respect other animal’s property, and Emma needs to stop living in the 21st century when she’s clearly stuck in the 19th.

As is the case with many of these 19th century realist novels, the translation to film can be a bit drab. Mostly because the sorrows of the poor characters of the 19th century, rather than evoke sympathy in their plight, are often portrayed so pathetically, it rather feels like watching The Real Housewives of 19th Century Rural France. And in that world, no one gets a happy ending. Like last year’s In Secret, the adaptation of Émile Zola’s naturalist novel, cheaters (as justified as they may be) just don’t win. I won’t ruin the ending, though there’s so many version of this story floating around I doubt there are many of you out there who can’t guess. Interestingly enough Anne Fontaine’s Gemma Bovery is out now as well and is garnering positive reviews.

Barthes is an interesting choice of director, her most notable feature before this being the Paul Giamatti film Cold Souls. Which provides some explanation for his small role in Madame Bovary. The cinematography is reminiscent of Joe Wright’s Pride & Prejudice, minus the lens flares and warmth. Plenty of widely framed shots of the dreary French country-side. Emma in her colorful clothing shines among the blandness, but her smile-less face rather reminds us at all times of the film’s tone. Most puzzling is that Barthes chose to film so straightforwardly. There is very little deviation from the original story and yet no real emphasis on the naturalist/realist style of the novel. It all plays out with a restless predictability.

Considering the caliber of the ingredients—A-list actors, tried and tested content, gorgeous costumery—Madame Bovary is unexceptional and bland. While female inequity and subjection is still a relevant issue, and one Barthes could have played with more, the portrayal of one woman’s sexual dalliances and shopping sprees is not exactly empowering or modern. Most consider Emma Bovary to be a romantic, caught up in her fantasies, but this rendition offers very little of that starry-eyed quality. Without any emotional connection, its hard to root for or cry for Emma Bovary. And when sex and shopping can’t even spark the slightest of interest for this female reviewer, it doesn’t bode well for extended audiences.

In a 2011 CBC Radio interview, Beach Boys frontman Brian Wilson was asked why the sun was such a central theme in his famous pocket symphonies. His answer: “Because it’s California sunshine, you know?” (He then proceeded to sing an impromptu, acapella version of “Do It Again.”) It was a delightfully straightforward, almost childlike answer given by a man who wrote heavenly songs to bat away the demons that terrorized and ravaged him in his waking life.

Love & Mercy, an unconventional biopic based on Wilson, isn’t so much about sunshine as it is about his demons. The focus is the anguish and isolation that plagued him from his early days as a musical prodigy and deep into his adult years, when drugs and anxiety nearly reduced his mind to mush. It may be the best musician portrait of the millennium so far, for its artistic ambition, supreme sound design and chilling performances.

It’s a hard enough thing telling someone’s life story in two measly hours, but when your subject is Wilson, a man whose life is so legendary it could easily fill a 1,000-page book, the Wikipedia biopic approach simply won’t cut it. Bad biopics try to shove a life story into a bottle; good ones take on a life of their own. Director Bill Pohlad and screenwriter Oren Moverman get it: instead of going with the “rock ‘n’ roll rise ‘n’ fall” approach, they use two critical, defining slices of Wilson’s life to render a beautifully complex, abstract interpretation of the man who gifted us “Good Vibrations” and “California Girls.” Despite covering only two portions of Wilson’s life, Pohlad and Moverman’s film feels rounded, complete, and faithful to its subject’s soul and spirit.

The narrative is stereophonic, in a way. It tells two stories, phasing them into a larger arc with clever scene arrangement and seamless editing that echoes the fluidity of Boyhood‘s invisible time jumps. Paul Dano plays a young Brian in the ’60s, whose artistic awakening has coincided with the emergence of a debilitating anxiety disorder; John Cusack plays him in the ’80s, a chemically imbalanced mess who’s unsure of every word that escapes his lips.

’80s Brian is a man on a leash, held captive by Dr. Eugene Landy (Paul Giamatti), a shady therapist who’s taken charge of Brian’s life and, conveniently, his funds. (Landy’s moved into Brian’s Malibu mansion, moving Brian to a smaller house up the coast.) Brian meets his savior and future wife in Melinda Ledbetter (Elizabeth Banks), a savvy car saleswoman who he asks on a date while sitting in a car she’s in the process of selling him. Melinda and Brian’s romance and camaraderie and her efforts to liberate him from the imperious Dr. Landy drive their half of the film.

The earlier time frame covers the Beach Boys in their prime, topping the charts and competing for pop culture dominance with The Beatles. An early scene has the camera slowly circling Dano’s Brian, sitting at a piano and playing a kernel of a song that, as the movie progresses, turns into “God Only Knows,” which would become widely regarded as one of the best songs ever written. His gift comes with a curse: severe panic attacks begin to wreak havoc on his psyche, torturing him as he creates Pet Sounds, an album that would become his preeminent masterpiece.

Wilson led a turbulent life from the start, going from being the son of an emotionally and physically abusive father and straight into the arms of Dr. Landy. He didn’t live life on his terms, instead resigning himself to the role of peon for most of his adult life. The only time he had absolute control was in the studio, where he was notoriously meticulous about the execution of his musical arrangements. Pohlad recreates the famous Pet Sounds sessions in brilliant detail, in the same studio where Wilson and The Wrecking Crew laid down the classic record. Dano gets Wilson’s obsessive perfectionism down, well, perfectly, vocalizing to the musicians exactly how he wants each note played. He yells to the cello player from the booth: “Taka-ta-taka-ta-taka-ta-taka!”

Love & Mercy glides forward gracefully, flitting from side to side between the two time periods like a well handled hockey puck. Its shape doesn’t resemble any biopic I’ve ever seen, and that’s its strongest quality. It jumps forwards and backwards in time, but the story’s movement feels lateral, not linear. The way Pohlad accomplishes this is by letting the two stories breathe and develop on their own terms and on their own time, apart from each other. They’re weaved together with sharp filmmaking technique, but beyond that they’re completely discrete.

The most glaring proof of this is the fact that Dano and Cusack look nothing alike. Their interpretations of Wilson are unique, and there doesn’t seem to be any sense of continuity between their performances. This is a good thing. If they’d used makeup to make them look more alike, it would have soured the pot from the get-go.

Looper comes to mind: What sold Joseph Gordon-Levitt as a younger Bruce Willis wasn’t the creepy-looking makeup; it was his performance. It was the twitches, the way he spoke, the way he walked, the way he held his hands, the way he raised his eyebrow. Cusack looks nothing like Dano or Wilson, but when he’s in motion—dangling his arms at his sides, whispering like a child with a secret—he sounds and moves and feels just like Wilson. He had a steeper hill to climb than Dano (who’s a dead-ringer for a young Wilson in every way), but he makes it to the other side without the aid of prosthetics or CG tomfoolery. Impressive.

This is the most subtle, measured performance of Dano’s career. He’s always been a standout, but always seems to be aggressively trying to steal scenes in an almost competitive, selfish manner that occasionally undermines his on-screen partners (he does this in Looper to Gordon-Levitt, actually). The fact that he’s playing such an iconic man (who happens to still be alive) in this movie seems to have calmed him down a bit and allowed him to explore nuance in a way he never has before. As a bonus, he plays the piano and sings himself, an extra detail musicians will no doubt appreciate. (Nothing’s worse than the disconnect of hearing a lovely piano tune as an actor flails his fingers across the keys like a faulty marionette.

(Cue “Heroes and Villains.”) Banks and Giamatti’s contributions to the film shouldn’t be understated. They’re both phenomenal, and in fact share a handful of scenes together, one of which may be the film’s best. In the throes of a nasty legal battle (Landy was Wilson’s legal guardian for a time), Dr. Landy pays Melinda a visit at the car dealership, pounding on her locked office door like a threatened gorilla, screaming obscene threats. Eventually, Melinda swings the door open. The look on Banks’ face as she stares down Giamatti is more badass than anything you’ll see in any action blockbuster this summer. She’s killer.

Wilson devotees will likely be moved to tears by Love & Mercy (“God Only Knows” is waterworks material for me no matter the context), thought the experience of the uninitiated will be no less special. This man is a certified American icon, and for his legacy to be preserved in a way that comes ever so close to matching his artistry is a wonderful thing. The film’s only major obstacle is Cusack’s resemblance issue. If you can’t get past it, you may find yourself repeatedly thrown out of the movie every time he saunters into frame. If you can get past it (it took me a while, but I did), you’ll have a film experience to treasure for years to come.

I’d been fearing for years that, once a film about Brian Wilson was made, it would be one of those painfully formulaic biopics that have become so stale as of late. The Beach Boys frontman deserves a more artful big screen tribute than that; aside from being a veritable musical genius, he’s lived one of the most turbulent, awe-inspiring lives in documented rock and pop history.

Bill Pohlad‘s Love & Mercy, I’m relieved to report, is no soup-to-nuts hagiography, but rather an abstract, moody interpretation of two very important slices of Wilson’s life. Paul Dano plays a young Wilson in the process of writing the songs that would become Pet Sounds. An older, more mentally damaged Brian is played by John Cusack. Paul Giamatti joins Cusack’s half of the film as Dr. Eugene Landy, who in the ’80s exploited Wilson’s wealth and health, overmedicating him while he shacked up in one of Wilson’s mansions. Elizabeth Banks plays Melinda Ledbetter, Wilson’s soul mate who attempts to wrest Brian from Dr. Landy’s poisonous grip.

The film’s fragmented approach allows it to reach a stunning level of intimacy with Brian and his mind. During his visit to San Francisco this past April for the San Francisco International Film Festival, I spoke with Pohlad about the film and his experiences with Wilson, as well as the shining contributions of the rest of his team. Love & Mercy opens wide tomorrow, Friday, June 5th.

What did you like about Oren Moverman’s script that drew you to the project?
To be honest, it happened the other way around. There was a script floating around about Brian called Heroes & Villains that came to us. I read it and didn’t really like it, but I liked the idea of doing a movie about Brian Wilson. I met with Brian and Melinda and got a sense for trying to tell this story in a different way. I was never really interested in doing a biopic. In meeting them, I learned that she actually did meet him without knowing who he was and was kind of attracted to him, even though he was a bit quirky and odd. Then, she learned who he was and that all this weird stuff was going on around him. I thought it was a great way to get into his story. I was intrigued by that chapter of his life and the Pet Sounds period when he was so super-creative. It felt like those two strands would be the way to go to tell a story. We interviewed a bunch of writers, but Oren was a standout. It was one of those things where you immediately connect with somebody. We got along very well. It kind of took off from there.

I remember in high school buying the big Pet Sounds Sessions box set. The green one. I loved it. I listened to it front to back over and over. It had all these different versions of songs and Brian getting annoyed with everyone. [laughs] It was emotional for me to see those studio session recreated.
I did the same thing, buying that box set and being entranced by it and listening to it all the time. It was exciting to think about trying to recreate that. It was a magical time during the shoot, and the whole shoot honestly had a magic to it that doesn’t always happen in film production. We shot that studio section first, and it was great to be able to be in that studio, which is the actual one he recorded most of Pet Sounds in. I wanted it to have this spontaneous feel that I had appreciated in years growing up with Let It Be or Sympathy For the Devil, films like that where you’re able to get an inside look at what it’s like in the studio when guys are creating music like that. We actually hired real musicians, not actors, and gave them sheet music like they would get in a session. Paul would go in after listening to the Pet Sounds sessions over and over to get a sense of how Brian works, and we’d just let him go. We had two 16mm cameras and shot it like a documentary.

At my wedding my wife walked down the aisle to “God Only Knows.” That scene where Paul’s writing that song at the piano killed me; I got very emotional.
Shooting that was emotional, but the whole project was emotional, to be honest. The second thing we shot was the scene when he’s writing “Surf’s Up” at the piano. Paul sat and played “Surf’s Up” for, like, three hours in front of the crew. He was amazing. That was really emotional because I knew what Paul and all of us had invested in this. We were kind of doing this shot-by-shot recreation from a documentary. The “God Only Knows” thing was equally emotional because, yes, I love that song. It’s such a great song. I wanted to capture this progression of moments. When you first see him it’s like he’s just coming up with this song, and then it develops. He gets more sure of it, and by the end he’s playing it for his father. Showing that progression was really special.

Is it tricky selling John Cusack as Brian Wilson since, frankly, he looks nothing like him?
First of all, he does kind of look like him.

You think so? I don’t see it.
He just looks like him from another period. If you look at shots of Brian from the ’80s, he’s this big, bearded behemoth, almost. Then, he’d look like this skinny, emaciated guy. He was working with Landy, and his weight was going up and down. We were really trying to figure out which look we’d go with and who would portray him. I watched the Don Was documentary I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times, which was shot in the early ’90s. There’s a shot early on of him in a leather jacket, and he looks like John. People say they don’t look alike occasionally, but Melinda and Brian say to them, “Yes he does!”

But I didn’t want them to be doing things like using prosthetics to make John look more like Brian or Paul. I also didn’t encourage John and Paul to work together. I wanted them to find their own, organic way into the character. You kind of let them find it. John did it by spending time with Brian and the Smile sessions. Paul did it by spending time with the Pet Sounds sessions and trying to get a sense for Brian back in that time. He said working with Brian wouldn’t have been as productive as John working with Brian.

John got Brian’s walk almost exactly, with his arms turned forward.
I’ve had psychologists and doctors say that the way John walks and the way he holds his hands are all indications of when somebody is over-medicated or getting the wrong medication.

Paul resembles Brian so much.
It’s spooky at times.

What was it like meeting Brian for the first time?
It was amazing. The first thing I’ll admit is that I grew up as a Beatles guy, and I think that’s good, in a way. There were a lot of people who wanted to be involved in the picture because they loved Brian, but it’s almost like they were too close, too big of fans. I’ve gotten more into Brian and his music over the years, and very into it about 15-20 years ago through Pet Sounds. But I think it’s good to have some objectivity. When I met Brian, it was a thrill, but I didn’t fall over. The key thing is to represent the human side of him. The celebrity and musical genius side is important, and we want to get that across, but what I want more than anything is to be able to relate to this guy. If you want to put him up on a pedestal and survey his life, you do that in a biopic. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to relate to this guy. I think the mental health issues he went through carry a more important message than saying how great a guy he is. It’s about how we treat people and how we make assumptions about people who have those challenges.

Giamatti is killer.
It’s tough, because a character like Landy…[pauses]. I couldn’t find anybody who had anything positive to say about him. He’s dead, so we don’t have a lot to go on, but you don’t want to create a one-dimensional character. You want to relate to what drove him to this and brought him to this place. There are a lot of subtleties, and having Paul Giamatti navigate those waters is huge.

One of my favorite moments in the movie is when Elizabeth Banks opens that office door in Paul’s face. She looked like such a warrior.
All of that happened [in real life]. She was in the office with the door locked and he was yelling outside. Honestly, with Brian’s story, there are so many things that happened that you would just never put in a script because they’re unbelievable. [laughs] At the end when Brian walks out in front of Melinda’s car, we struggled with that for a long time. We thought, nobody’s going to believe that! It sounds like a movie thing! It literally happened that way. Brian walked out in front of the car and she almost ran into him. As a filmmaker, it’s hard to pull it off without people thinking it’s a movie convention or something.

Favorite Beach Boys song?
“God Only Knows.” But it’s tough. “Don’t Worry Baby” would be up there.

“Good Vibrations” is my number two.
“Surf’s Up” is really great. I could go on and on.

Talk about your approach to sound. I assume that’s high priority in a film like this.
Oh, totally. Brian has aural hallucinations, not visual. Your default thing in a movie is to put all these weird things on-screen and create a “trip.” But this is what he’s hearing in his head, all these disparate chords and harmonies. They’re a part of his genius, but he can’t turn it off, so it becomes part of his nightmare as well. I wanted to figure out a way to depict that so people understood it. I thought “Revolution Number 9” off the Beatles’ White Album would be a good model. We sat down with Atticus Ross and he got it immediately. Beyond the “mind trips,” the score itself is Brian’s music, just rearranged. We’ve taken the stems from the original recordings, taken one from one song and one from another, and weaved them together. I hope Atticus’ story of what he did on this movie comes out, because it’s extraordinary.

I loved how audacious those hallucinations are. You’ll hear a weird sound mixed very hard to the right, and then a loud chord all the way on the left. Crazy stuff.
Our sound mixer Chris Jenkins’ contributions are as valuable as Atticus’ or mine.

What was the hardest thing for Brian to watch?
Brian’s quite hard to read. He’s very asocial. It’s not his thing. But I wanted to make sure he was onboard and made sure the film [was credible], so we had a table read for him early on, just the script. At times I thought he wasn’t paying attention at all or that he was sleeping. An hour later, he’d come back with these really insightful notes. The guy was listening the whole time! When he saw a rough cut the first time, he watched it alone. I heard he liked it, but I didn’t get to watch it with him until Toronto. He never shared what the hardest thing about it was, but he says reliving that whole process is hard for him.

He’s a curious guy. if you ask him about Landy now, he’d say, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Landy,” even though he knows everything Landy did to him. He still sees it in a childlike way, a purity that’s just fascinating. But then, for the rough cut, he said we were being too kind to Landy. He thought our portrayal was a little softer than he actually was.

In the advertising for Brad Peyton‘s natural disaster flick San Andreas, there’s an unspoken promise. It’s one of unbridled tectonic terror and eye-popping structural devastation, the sort of stuff we used to lap up like thirsty dogs every summer in the ’90s, when disaster movies came out seemingly every week. In this respect, San Andreas makes good on its promise, with a sizable chunk of its nearly 2-hour runtime dedicated to demonstrating in painful detail the effects of a series of earthquakes that rattles California and reduces San Francisco to a pile of urban mush.

But there’s another, deeper promise that comes as a package deal with all of the NorCal mass destruction: death (minor spoilers inbound). Earthquakes and tsunamis are frightening because they kill us, simple as that. The script written by Carlton Cuse (Lost) has a major flaw in that nobody of consequence dies. Aside from a bit player meeting a heroic demise early on, every death we see involves either an extra (typically computer generated) or a character whose death Cuse makes one hundred percent certain will not make us sad. The establishing of stakes and value of life is the difference between a bad disaster movie and a good one, and on this front San Andreas bites the dust.

Dwayne Johnson plays Ray, a rescue helicopter pilot for the Los Angeles Fire Department. He’s a family man, though that’s been a stressful role to upkeep as of late as his family’s been recently fractured. He and his wife, Emma (Carla Gugino) are in the process of getting a divorce. What’s worse, Emma’s getting ready to move in with her millionaire developer boyfriend, Daniel (Ioan Gruffudd), and she’s taking she and Ray’s daughter, Blake (Alexandra Daddario), with her. This obviously doesn’t sit well with Ray, who’s a ball of pent-up frustration and regret, but he’s got lives to save.

When a “swarm” of earthquakes surges up the San Andreas fault from Los Angeles to the Bay Area, Ray and Emma reunite to save their daughter, who’s flown up with Daniel to the soon-to-be-flattened San Francisco. Daniel, of course, reveals himself to be a sniveling villain who leaves Blake for dead in a pile of rubble. Thankfully, while her parents race against the clock to make their way up the coastline, Blake befriends two British brothers (Hugo Johnstone-Burt and Art Parkinson), who aid and accompany her in her mission to find higher ground in the hilly city by the bay.

Bolstering the parents’ drive to save their daughter is the dark memory of their other daughter, Mallory, who died in a river rafting accident years before. Aside from providing grandiose views of buildings toppling into each other like sky-high dominos, the 9.6 quake at the center of the movie also serves to shake up the repressed guilt and sorrow Ray’s bottled up inside since his daughter’s death, feelings that contributed heavily to he and Emma’s divorce. This is meant to be touching, but really, it’s just another way for the film to tiptoe around death. While tragic, Mallory’s death is a red herring, a plot device designed to give the story gravity without actually killing off a character we actually get to know. Nice try, Cuse, but no cigar.

The film’s obligatory scientific expert is played by Paul Giamatti, who’s cast perfectly. The “expert” character’s job in any disaster film is to sell us on the seriousness and consequences of the impending events. Giamatti does a bang-up job, especially when he screams at his fellow seismologists at Cal Tech to “TAKE COVER!” whenever he senses an incoming tremor. His character develops technology that’s able to predict the time and magnitude of earthquakes, but of course, it’s too little too late. It’s essentially a detail written in as an excuse for him to deliver the “here comes the Big One” speech, a speech which obviously can’t be made in real life since seismologists have no way of predicting when the next “Big One” will strike.

The images of destruction the filmmakers and visual effects teams conjure up look great. I’m a Bay Area boy, but there was a sadistic thrill in watching the landmarks and buildings I’ve grown up with smashed into oblivion. Some memorable shots: the Bay Bridge twisting and contorting so violently it takes the shape of a DNA strand; a gang of boats racing up a towering tsunami to make it to the other side before it crests; a long shot of Emma frantically scrambling to the roof of a crumbling building. These sequences, exhilarating as they are, are strung together so poorly by the narrative that they offer no more enjoyment than a Universal Studios theme park ride.

When Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson left the world of professional wrestling to conquer Hollywood, everyone laughed (including me, a lifelong WWE fan). When he started, he was awful (The Scorpion King is an unwatchable shlock-fest). But San Andreas is yet further proof that “Rocky” has proven everybody wrong: he ties with Giamatti as best actor in the movie. (That’s not for lack of competition, either, as the rest of the cast do a great job themselves.) He nails not just the action scenes, but the somber ones where he laments the loss of his daughter.

His casting feels a bit off, though. He’s got more muscle on him than everyone else in the movie combined, but he rarely gets to use them. Mostly, we see him driving things: helicopters, trucks, boats—you name it. I don’t want to see him drive stuff; I want to see him smash stuff! He punches one guy and moves the occasional semi-heavy thing out of the way. I’m not saying Johnson should be hitting things in every movie. But in this movie, more physicality would have been nice.

[Spoiler warning #2.] San Andreas is just one kill away from being pretty good. If just one of the main five characters had died, it would have made a world of difference. The effects are great and the destruction is extensive, but the loss of someone we care about is the one thing that could have truly sold us on the weight of it all. Instead, Peyton and Cuse are gun-shy and baby us like over-protective parents covering their children’s eyes during the “scary” parts. The scariest thing about San Andreas is that, as a depiction of such wide-spread death and devastation, it only elicits a half-hearted shrug.

Love & Mercy

Brian Wilson wrote some of the most beautifully complex pieces of music in history throughout his decades-long career with the Beach Boys and beyond. But as a person, he’s more beautifully complex than anything anyone could ever write. Bill Pohlad’s Love & Mercy explores Wilson’s psyche from two angles, focusing on the biggest artistic and personal turning points in his life. Paul Dano plays a Wilson as a young man in the Beach Boys’ heyday, in the midst of writing what would become one of the greatest albums of all time, Pet Sounds. Making up the other half of the movie is a more recent, frightening period in Wilson’s life (he’s played here by John Cusack), when he was under the (highly medicated) spell of unethical therapist Dr. Eugene Landy (Paul Giamatti), his only protection from whom being his beach blonde soul mate, Melinda Ledbetter (Elizabeth Banks).

Alternating between the two Brians is a welcome break from the typical biopic schematic. Dano’s resemblance is scary uncanny, and while Cusack’s isn’t so spot-on (I didn’t see it, to be honest), their commitment as actors is about level. Beach Boys fans will suffer uncontrollable geek-outs during the Pet Sounds studio session reenactments, but the real value of the film lies in the respectfully unkempt and fraught depiction of Wilson’s legacy as both a musician and a man.

Experimenter

Slipping between several planes of reality with the nimbleness of a jazz ensemble, Michael Almereyda‘s Experimenter, starring Peter Sarsgaard as late social psychologist Stanley Milgram, is more of a delectable treat than the dark subject matter might lead you to believe. It centers on Milgram’s famed contributions to the world of social experimentation, most notably his controversial experiment on obedience conducted in the ’60s. We see the Holocaust-inspired experiment—involving test subjects led to believe they’re remotely causing harm to a man in an adjacent room (played by Jim Gaffigan)—reenacted by a litany of strong players, including Anton Yelchin, John Leguizamo, Anthony Edwards, and others.

The film sees Sarsgaard’s Milgram periodically address us, the audience, in cleverly worded monologues that highlight the actor’s natural wit and intellect. It’s fun to see Sarsgaard given so much breathing room; he has a lot of fun with the role, and so we do as well. Almereyda lets loose too, with neat touches like utilizing rear-projection backdrops and employing a real-life elephant to stalk behind Sarsgaard down a hall as a fun metaphor. Winona Ryder stars as Milgram’s wife, Sasha, and gives the film an emotional oomph whose importance is clearest by film’s end.

7 Chinese Brothers

Jason Schwartzman is ridiculously funny in Bob Byington‘s 7 Chinese Brothers, a film created in the Wild West indie landscape that panders to no one (mainstream audiences will likely balk at the quaint, offbeat humor), but will please crackpot-comedy weirdos (like yours truly) to no end. Larry (Schwartzman) is a small-town schlub who drinks his way into and out of menial jobs he can’t stand. He’s got his romantically savvy friend, Major Norwood (TVOTR’s Tunde Adebimpe), his silvery grandmother (Olympia Dukakis), and his impossibly drowsy dog (Schwartzman’s real dog, Arrow) to keep him company most days. When he finds himself gravitated to his new boss, Lupe (Eleanore Pienta), he’s shocked to discover that, for once, he actually looks forward to going to work.

A lot of the funniest stuff in 7 Chinese Brothers involves Schwartzman almost having a contest with himself, trying to come up with the most bizarre behaviors he can think of and making them as out-there as possible. It’s the little, absurdist stuff that makes you laugh, like Schwartzman throwing garbage into a garbage can, and then throwing said garbage can into a dumpster. Byington’s written a great script, too, each line of dialogue going in a different direction than you expected. Keep this one in mind.

To say that John Cusack has been in a slump of late might be an understatement. The actor, who can be undeniably great when given the right material, has become something of a muted Nic Cage, with last year’s Drive Hard and The Bag Man (to name just two). But this year it looks as though the actor might be turning that all around with some far more interesting roles on the horizon. One of which arrives in the form of Love & Mercy alongside the ever great Paul Dano.

The film, directed by Bill Pohlad, is an unconventional portrait of Brian Wilson, the mercurial singer, songwriter, and leader of The Beach Boys. Dano and Cusack share the duties of portraying Wilson, with Dano taking the younger as he battles to preserve the vision of his music during the production of Pet Sounds, and Cusack the elder as he struggles to free himself from the oppressive thumb of Eugene Landy.

Love & Mercy left TIFF 20114 with some solid buzz, and now the teaser trailer is here so we can get a taste for ourselves. With the familiar faces of Paul Giamatti and Elizabeth Banks rounding out the cast, it’s safe to say we’re excited for this one.

Check out the trailer below:

Love & Mercy trailer

In more than one way Ari Folman’s The Congress reminds me a lot of last year’s Cannes film Holy Motors. The most obvious way is how both films can be said to be about the future of cinema. In The Congress Robin Wright essentially plays herself, a B-list actor who is complimenting on whether or not to allow herself to be sampled by the studio who can digitally re-create and place “her” in future films. Holy Motors was also a futuristic take on cinema where the camera never stops thus the actor is always acting. Both films are incredibly creative, fascinating, and push the envelope in terms of filmmaking; all things that by itself is worth a lot of praise. Another more personal reason why they both are alike to me is that I opened film festivals with these two wild mind-trip films. I am starting to question whether diving head first into these film festivals is really a good idea.

The first half of The Congress is displayed in live-action form and is relatively straight forward. A boss from a fictitious studio company named “Miramount”, played by spectacularly by Danny Huston, expresses to Robin Wright that she should allow the studio to sample her as it is the future of cinema. And we are not just talking about sampling her voice, but all her emotions and facial expressions. This way the studio can then re-create a version of Robin Wright that will live on forever, allowing them to place in her an infinite amount of films over the next two decades. This is the path that they claim cinema is going on and it is without a doubt an interesting concept.

Robin refused to sign the contract which states she has no choice of what kind of films will be made with her digitally assigned to. Freedom of choice is what the actress fights for, at least initially. Although her son’s recent poor health begins to outweigh her dignity and she caves in. Later on in the film, an even newer trend is discovered which allows a film to be completely unique to its viewer. Technology advances far enough to be able to trigger personal emotional experiences from the audience member’s brain, making the film watching experience feel more intimate. It is even suggested that audience will be able to literally taste actors and actress that get sampled into future (which is basically the entire plot of Brandon Cronenberg’s Antiviral).

The second half of the film takes a wicked turn. All of a sudden the live-action film turns into the kind of digital animated world that was talked about in the first half. Here Folman creates a trippy environment that is beautiful to look at and hard to look away from. Just imagine if Yellow Submarine was combined with Waking Life, you would likely get something close to The Congress.

The Congress seems to be an obvious satire on movie studios, but the film continues to explore other plotlines along the way that makes it difficult to pinpoint exactly what message the film was trying to get across. The truth is, there are many ideas expressed in the film and that might be its biggest downfall. There are laugh-out-loud moments when the film is making fun of movie studios. There are some fascinating insights on the future of cinema. There is even some good old family drama and love interests in the film. The problem is some areas work much better than others. One thing is for sure, it is a wildly ambitious film – perhaps it was trying to achieve just a little too much though.

Originally published on May 17th, 2013

Check out the official poster (courtesy of EW.com) and trailer for Ari Folman‘s upcoming film The Congress, starring Robin Wright. In the film, Wright plays a version of herself, who sells her digital likeness to Hollywood producers in order to help care for her sick son.

Folman’s previous film, Waltz with Bashir, was an intriguing blend of documentary and animation — The Congress looks to blend the lines between reality and art in similarly interesting ways.

The film premiered way back when at the 2013 Cannes Film Festival where we had a chance to see it (read our review), and after a long line of festival showcases, is set to be released by Drafthouse Films and On Demand starting July 24, 2014.

Watch the trailer for The Congress

The Congress movie poster

Steven McQueen’s highly anticipated 12 Years A Slave is a follow up to his mesmerizing sex addiction film Shame, which also features Michael Fassbender, and the first trailer for the film has just been released. The most notable part of the trailer seems to be the stunning performances from the cast, some of which include; Chiwetel Ejiofor, Paul Dano, Paul Giamatti, Quvenzhane Wallis, and Brad Pitt. 12 Years A Slave will be out on October 18th, the perfect time for Oscar potential.

Watch the official trailer for 12 Years A Slave:

George Clooney directs and stars in his latest film, The Ides of March, which focuses on people involved in American politics and the scandals that often come with them. The film also shows how people evolve in politics from a passionate driven nobody who legitimately believes in what they are doing to a position climber who only cares about gaining power. These are all things most already know so you are not likely to walk away with anything new but thanks to the excellent cast giving strong performances it is not a deal breaker.

It is one week from the Ohio Democratic primary, which is one of the most important primaries because normally it puts the winner in a position to win the party and thus in the running for president in the general election. Mike Morris (George Clooney) is a Democrat governor who is looking to win this primary. Along his sides are his senior campaign manager Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and his press secretary Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling).

An example of how brilliant Stephen is, he comes up with a plan that would mandate 18 year olds to do 2 years of service of some kind whether that be in the army or the Peace Corps and in return their college will be paid for. They know that is a bold plan to announce but they also know the voting demographic will be for it since it does not affect them and the age group it does affect is too young to even vote.

Stephen makes the mistake of agreeing to meet with Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti), who is the running mates campaign manager. Tom tries to lure Stephen into jump ship from his current position and work for his guy Senator Pullman. Stephen declines and that is when Tom lets him know that the race is much closer than he thinks. Tom informs him that they are in position to capture North Carolina’s delegates from a deal with the governor.

Stephen lets his team know of the situation and Paul comes up with a plan. Walk away from Ohio immediately and take a loss and head over to North Carolina to offer the governor a higher position if Morris is elected for his endorsement vote. Morris does not go for it and decides to stick it out in Ohio.

Meanwhile, a young intern named Molly Stearns (Evan Rachel Wood) takes interest in Stephen. They meet up outside of work where it is admitted that she has wanted him for some time now. He knows that they must keep this a secret but what he does not know is that he will soon discover a secret that could end the campaign in a heartbeat.

The ensemble cast is comprised of a collection of well-seasoned actors and actresses. A group that you would expect great performances from and they fulfill those expectations. With a cast of; George Clooney, Ryan Gosling, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Paul Giamatti, Evan Rachel Wood and Marisa Tomei, you just cannot go wrong in terms of performance.

Although the entire cast was great, the obvious stand out was Gosling. Watching his character development was my favorite quality of the film. You see Stephen changed from a guy who just wanted to win the polls to a guy that just wanted to get ahead in power.

If there is one thing you take away from The Ides of March it is that all politicians are dirty, even the ones you think are the good guys. Scandals are just the nature of being in politics, being under the microscope on everything you say and do does not help. It is nothing that most people did not already know which is why the storyline is fairly compelling but ultimately one that is not hard to predict how the scene would end once it had started.

Win Win is an indie drama from Thomas McCarthy whose third film proves he knows how to write genuine human behavior. Although there are some similarities between his other films, Win Win should appeal to a wider audience with this simple but sweet film about family.

Mike Flaherty (Paul Giamatti) is a high school wrestling coach for a losing team. He is a lawyer with his own practice but work is slow. He is so stressed out because of the lack of work he sometimes collapses while jogging. Needless to say, things are not looking up for him.

Looking to seize an opportunity at work he becomes a legal guardian for one of his clients named Leo (Burt Young), who has dementia in order to gain some extra income. While looking after Leo’s house, Mike finds Leo’s 16 year old grandson Kyle (Alex Shaffer), who randomly shows up at the home. He has never met his grandfather before but since he no longer gets along with his mother he had no choice but to flee.

Turns out that Kyle’s mother Cindy (Melanie Lynskey) is in drug rehab and never really provided a stable household for Kyle to live in. That might explain why Kyle is a foul mouthed chain-smoker at the age of 16. Although Kyle may seem like a punk on the outside, deep down he is a gentle soul.

Kyle comes to wrestling practice with Mike and asks if he could join. Mike asks him if he has ever wrestled before and Kyle causally says, “Yeah.” It turns out Kyle is fantastic at wrestling and is easily the best one on the team. Mike knows that Kyle is just what the team needs in order to turn their losing season around.

At his first match on the team, Kyle dominates his opponent with ease. His teammates are thankful to have the newcomer bring such success to the team. Kyle also bonds quickly with Mike’s family and soon becomes part of it. Even Mike’s wife, who was a little reluctant with the idea of Kyle at first, now thinks of Kyle as her own son.

With each match the team seems to be getting better and better now that they have Kyle. For the first time in a long time, things are looking up for Mike. Extra income from Leo and Kyle is vastly improving the wresting team’s record. Kyle is very happy to be wrestling again and has even quit smoking. Everything is swell until Kyle’s mother Cindy comes for him.

Cindy claims she came back to take care of Leo but made it obvious she just came back for his money. When she threatens to take Mike to court over it he comes up with a deal, saying he will take care of Leo for free and send her the monthly commission as long as she leaves Kyle alone. But Cindy now wants her son too, even if it is against his will.

Paul Giamatti is fantastic as always, playing the likeable but slightly flawed character of Mike, a family man who seizes opportunities when they arise. Amy Ryan is not on the screen as much as I would have liked, playing the role of a mother not at all like the one in Gone Baby Gone. This time she is a loving mother that thinks the world of her family and does it very convincingly.

Alex Shaffer was very natural playing the role of Kyle but after doing some research it is easy to understand why. At the age 17 Alex Shaffer won the New Jersey State Wrestling Championship in real life. He felt right at home when he shot for the legs and hop around the wrestling mat. There are only a couple of dialog scenes where you could tell he had never acted before.

Thomas McCarthy has used actor Bobby Cannavale in two of his films and in both he plays nearly the same character. The characters he plays are so socially desperate to be a part of someone else’s life because they are bored with their own. In The Station Agent that character was Joe, in Win Win it is Terry. Terry comes to Mike’s wrestling practice because he just wants to see this Kyle kid wrestle and perhaps trying to fill a void in his life from a recent divorce he had. He is excellent in both films providing comedic relief at the same time being the third wheel.

Win Win is the kind of film that will not blow you away, but is still enjoyable. It is well-acted and well told; even though the story is ultimately too safe which results in a warm family film that is worth watching once. However, compared to McCarthy’s The Station Agent this film was a bit of a let down.

Based off a Pulitzer Prize winning short story, The Illusionist is a film about a magician who must overcome class struggle throughout his life in order to win the hand of his lover. Not only are the illusions mysterious but so are some of the events that occur in the magician’s life. Both Edward Norton and Paul Giamatti give solid performances in this magic themed film.

Taking place around the turn of the last century, Eisenheim the Illusionist (Edward Norton) is traveling around on tour showcasing his masterful illusions to many stunned audiences. His audience seems to grow with each new show and when his tour comes to Vienna, he gets an opportunity to perform for Crown Prince Leopold (Rufus Sewell). That is where things start to get interesting.

In a series of flashbacks, we see a young Eisenheim, who at that time went by his real name, Edward. As a young child he had been fascinated by magic and had been trying to perfect it since. His family was poor and his childhood love was a young duchess named Sophie (Jessica Biel). It almost goes without saying but their love was frown upon by others. So at an early age they separated from one another.

Crown Prince Leopold prides himself on logic and believes he can solve how Eisenheim does his illusions. When the audience is asked for a volunteer, the crown prince sends up his fiancée-to-be. As she gets onto the stage Eisenheim suddenly realizes who she is, his long-last lady love Sophie.

Eisenheim quickly learns of her intent to marry the crown prince just as the crown prince learns about Sophie and Eisenheim’s past. Both have their own plans to take each other out and win over the girl. Leopold gets the Chief Inspector Uhl (Paul Giamatti) to follow Eisenheim and find out how he performs his illusions. By doing this he hopes he can expose and thus discredit Eisenheim as a magician.

Things take a turn when Sophie turns up dead soon after refusing Leopold. Eisenheim has his own plan to use Inspector Uhl to find evidence about the case that will expose Leopold as a murderer. Uhl has always been fond of Eisenheim but now has an internal struggle between helping Eisenheim or helping Leopold which could grant him more power.

The Illusionist is based on a short story called Eisenheim the Illusionist by Steven Millhauser and feels more like a fairy tale than it does a film. This may be because of how unbelievable the illusions that Eisenheim performs. Such as an orange tree growing out of a pot that produces real oranges in a matter of a minute all while butterflies hover above it. It also may feel like a fairy tale because the story centers on a poor boy and a rich girl that know their love is true but stands in their way is a socially powerful man.

Edward Norton shines in the lead role as the witty and charming illusionist. He even did many of his own magic tricks in the film. Jessica Biel does not stand out but is not given much chance even though two men fighting over her is the central plot. On the other hand, Paul Giamatti may have stood out the most. I think Giamatti had the best performance in this film and further proving he is an under-rated actor.

It may be unfair to compare films, but it is hard to ignore it when the both The Illusionist and The Prestige both came out in 2006 and are both about magicians. Even their titles are somewhat similar. They both were nominated for the same award at the 2007 Academy Awards, Best Achievement in Cinematography, which they both lost. In my opinion, I believe Christopher Nolan’s The Prestige to be the better of the two. Each has their own uniqueness and qualities but The Prestige did most of them better.

The Illusionist is an aesthetically pleasing fairy tale-like film. As a viewer, we are like the audience in the film. We watch Eisenheim perform his illusions and wonder whether or not they are supernatural or not as we try to figure out the trick. Unfortunately, the middle act of the film drags on a bit especially compared to the romantic filled beginning and ending acts. Which would not have been such a problem if the connection between Sophie and Eisenheim did not slip as the focus of the film.

Ricky Gervais hosted the 68th Golden Globe Awards this year. Even though The King’s Speech had the most nominations with seven, it was rather unsurprising that The Social Network ended up with the most of the film awards that included; Best Picture, Best Screenplay, Best Director, Best Original Score. I was very happy to see Natalie Portman won Best Actress in Motion Picture Drama, it was very well deserved. Glee had the most awards for TV with three total wins. I was happy to see Jim Parsons win Best Actor in a TV comedy or musical. Not only do I enjoy The Big Bang Theory but it was nice to see someone in a comedy or musical get some respect other than Glee. Here is the full list of winners:

FILM

Best Motion Picture – Drama:
The Social Network

Best Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical:
The Kids Are All Right

Best Director:
David Fincher, The Social Network

Best Actress – Drama:
Natalie Portman, Black Swan

Best Actor – Drama:
Colin Firth, The King’s Speech

Best Actress – Comedy or Musical:
Annette Bening, The Kids Are All Right

Best Actor – Comedy or Musical:
Paul Giamatti, Barney’s Version

Best Supporting Actress:
Melissa Leo, The Fighter

Best Supporting Actor:
Christian Bale, The Fighter

Best Foreign Language Film:
In A Better World

Best Screenplay – Motion Picture:
Aaron Sorkin, The Social Network

Best Original Score – Motion Picture:
Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, The Social Network

Best Animated Feature Film:
Toy Story 3

Best Original Song – Motion Picture:
“You Haven’t Seen The Last Of Me”, Burlesque

Cecil B. DeMille Award:
Robert De Niro

TV

Best Drama Series:
Boardwalk Empire

Best Comedy Or Musical:
Glee

Best TV Movie/Miniseries:
Carlos

Best Actress – Drama:
Katey Sagal, Sons of Anarchy

Best Actor – Drama:
Steve Buscemi, Boardwalk Empire

Best Actress – Comedy or Musical:
Laura Linney, The Big C

Best Actor – Comedy or Musical:
Jim Parsons, The Big Bang Theory

Best Actress – TV Movie/Miniseries:
Claire Danes, Temple Grandin

Best Actor – TV Movie/Miniseries:
Al Pacino, You Don’t Know Jack

Best Supporting Actress – TV Series:
Jane Lynch, Glee

Best Supporting Actor – TV Series:
Chris Colfer, Glee

Cold Souls is a dark comedy that doesn’t sacrifice a storyline for its laughs. Not entirely memorable but certainly watchable, this indie film should not be overlooked completely.

Paul Giamatti stars as himself in Cold Souls which the concept behind the film is souls can be extracted and also implanted similar to an organ transplant. Giamatti struggles with anxiety and seeks for a cure. After hearing about a company that does soul transplants, he signs up to remove his soul. He intends for it to be a temporarily thing, just to get him past his next acting performance. Complications arise when later his soul disappears from the storage facility. A soul-trafficking mule borrows Giamatti’s soul for an actress overseas. He sets out to retrieve what was once his.

Paul Giamatti is not afraid of making fun of himself a little. Since he is playing himself there are some subtle jabs that he (or the director) takes at himself. The different pronunciations of his last name and when he asks the person why they choose his soul to take, she simply replies that he was the only actor they could get. Thus sort of alluding that he isn’t a big time actor. There may be a little truth to that because I don’t think that everyone knows who he is, which is rather unfortunate.

Cold Souls is a very quiet film. Throughout the duration many scenes are of Giamatti living his life without saying much. As a viewer you get a good and detailed sense of what the characters life is like. The cinematography was beautifully done, it mostly expressed emptiness. For example, there is a shot of him at a very large table all alone and also by a large body of water with no one else in sight with him just pondering. This is done perhaps because he believes his soul is empty.

I felt like the concept of this film was very interesting. Being able to rid your soul and implant a new one is quite intriguing. However, I did feel like Cold Souls could have been better, it had a lot more potential than I think the final result turned out.

Labeled as a comedy and I would add dark to that, it didn’t have to try that hard to be funny. It was more of a drama that had an odd sense of humor. Sometimes it was hard to tell if something was meant to be funny or not, it has such a serious tone to it. There are a few punch lines but none of them felt forced at all and I enjoyed that.

I kept wondering how it was going to end and then it just did. It’s fitting because of the emptiness theme going on but also I felt that it just wasn’t memorable. Cold Souls not a film that I feel like everyone will appreciate but I would recommend it to some.