What Brett Watched

outland22 film review January 21, 2022 5 Minutes

The Power of the Dog (2021)

Each year, a film comes out that reminds us of the hive-mind of modern film criticism. The outstanding reviews for Jane Campion’s The Power of the Dog, along with the film’s front-running hype for academy awards including best picture, had me excited for Netflix Studio’s latest Oscar hope. Indeed, the film has some high quality ingredients, such as its cinematography, acting and music, but it suffers from a poor script and questionable narrative choices. Ultimately, The Power of the Dog is all bark and no bite.

Set in Montana in 1925, The Power of the Dog, based upon Tom Savages’ 1967 novel of the same name, follows brothers Phil (Benedict Cumberbatch) and George Burbank (Jesse Plemons); wealthy ranchers who meet an Innkeeper, Rose (Kirsten Dunst) and her son Peter (Kodi Smit-Mcphee)while on a cattle drive. George falls in love with and marries Rose, bringing Peter along. Apprehension mounts as Phil clashes with Rose and her son, leading to a shocking conclusion…or so it would seem. Campion’s adaptation of Savages’ story tries to be too clever for its own good. The narrative execution is lacking, and causes the sum to be lesser than its parts.

The elements of The Power of the Dog that work are worthy of high praise. Ari Wegner’s cinematography is stunning. Vast, empty landscapes guarded by towering snow-capped mountains and beautiful lighting evoke crushing feelings of loneliness along with a pervading sense of danger. The photography, combined with Johny Greenwood’s haunting score creates a mounting tension on the ranch, as if some unforeseen menace stalks in the shadows. Greenwood uses uneven strings, strums and plucks, and creates an unnerving heartbeat that paces the film. Greenwood’s score reminds me of his work in Paul Thomas Anderson’s There Will be Blood, and it seems clear that the atmospheric tension of that film was an inspiration to Campion’s film. The music follows the tone of the film closely, and creates a sensation of dread, felt by each character. As the plot deepens, Rose falls further into a tortured madness, and Phil into an obsessive rage, and the score and cinematography highlight this psychological deterioration well.

Jane Campion’s direction is fluid. Her film flows effortlessly from scene to scene, and she receives some stellar performances from her actors, particularly Kirsten Dunst. With the tormented Rose, Dunst does some career work here. All we really know about Rose is that her husband committed suicide, and Dunst initially gives Rose a meek, passive discomfort that boils over into drunken hysteria. It’s difficult to delve too deep into the character’s motivations because of the weakness of the script, so really all we have to gauge Dunst’s performance is what we have on the surface, and she does an impressive job, and will probably be in the awards discussion. Cumberbatch also gives a commanding performance as the brooding Phil, a conflicted and agitated man with clear repressed sexual issues. Cumberbatch’s accent is a bit uneven, but this is clearly a professional actor at work, and he gives Phil a sort of haunting essence that permeates the entire ranch. Phil seems to make everyone on the ranch uncomfortable and Cumberbatch is like a thorn in a shoe here, manifesting that discomfort on screen. Jesse Plemons disappears in this film literally and figuratively; his George sees some screen time in the beginning and then sparingly, if at all throughout. When he’s on screen, Plemons mumbles around, existing mostly as a foil to Phil. That brings us to Kodi Smit-Mcfee, whose Peter is the de facto main character of the film. Mcfee definitely looks the part, playing an effeminate oddball, hopelessly out of place on the ranch. Mcfee doesn’t really do anything too special here; he does a fine job of playing to Peter’s quirkiness, and Mcfee contrasts well with the projected hyper-masculinity of Phil, but there’s nothing too cerebral going on here, especially given the nature of the plot twist. He gives few, if any clues about his character’s intentions and capabilities, which is something a better actor might be able to do, but also because the script won’t allow it in order to protect the ending.

This brings us to the narrative itself. I’m no film expert, and I simply write what I feel. This film ended and I didn’t even realize that it was over. I was still taking notes and waiting for something to happen. The Power of the Dog really had no denouement, and very little exposition throughout, and that’s fine; Many great films have little to no exposition. My problem is that the plot was not engaging and in turn, did not earn its ending or develop any of it’s main points. The third act is confusing and messy. The passage of time is poorly executed. The character motivations are extremely vague. It’s obvious that Phil has some sort of repressed homosexual desires regarding Bronco Henry, but what does this ultimately have to do with the plot? The film contends that Phil resents Rose because her femininity is a threat to the hyper-masculine facade he’s established for himself at the ranch that shields his hidden homosexual desires. So Phil is a homosexual and becomes a bully because he represses it. That seems to be the case only to set up Peter’s murder of Phil. All of this is discarded when the film suddenly becomes a revenge-murder thriller. It feels like plot-filler. And if the intention is to paint Phil as an abuser who deserves to die, then the film has to do more than offer only subtle implications of abuse. In a film where very little actually happens, these implications with no actual consequences become nothing more than a showcase for the film’s acting, direction, etc., which is not a bad thing, but also doesn’t make for a “Best Picture” elite film.

Rose’s character gives us the same stuff. She’s haunted and tormented by Phil, but we’re given very few reasons why. Phil vibes her and mocks her, but he doesn’t do anything to her that would warrant his death, and the film centers around Phil as this horrible man, when in reality he’s merely a jerk. We also get no notion that Peter is capable of being a calculated killer. He’s portrayed as the opposite of that, and we get zero indication that this character is even capable of such a diabolical plan. In other words, The Power of the Dog gives us little to no exposition because it tries to fool or confuse the audience by not revealing anything in order to seem more profound when the plot twist happens. Pretentious is word that comes to mind. Its unfair to the viewer to have a plot filled with nonsense and then conclude as if everything made sense all along. This type of ending must be earned, and The Power of the Dog did not earn it.

Jane Campion did a fine job directing The Power of the Dog, and her film contains award-winning elements, particularly the music, acting and cinematography. Those elements also work to distract us from the boring script that doesn’t do enough to earn its payoff. The film mostly serves as an exhibition for its parts; it reeks of “Oscar-bait.” While I didn’t really enjoy the film, I know many do, and I think that’s cool, but if this is the front runner for best picture, then it demonstrates the decline in the Academy’s choices over the years, while also highlighting the fact that when a film starts to trend with film critics, almost all the top critics jump on board and go with the flow. Personally, I prefer a film that’s well made and that I enjoy watching. 6.5/10

 

What Brett Watched

Chef (2014)

Life is all about second chances, and it’s never too late to reignite our passions and assess what it is that truly makes us happy. 2014’s Chef, written, directed, and produced by Jon Favreau (Iron Man), gives us a simple and soulful main course that is as delightful as it is delicious, while also commenting on the director’s own journey.

Chef Carl Casper (Jon Favreau) is in a creative rut at posh LA restaurant, La Gauloises, where he leads his loyal team to prepare for a visit from top food critic, Ramsey Michel (Oliver Platt). Carl sees this as an opportunity to show off his creativity, something he’s been missing, but after his boss, Riva (Dustin Hoffman) douses his attempts to innovate, Casper suffers a scathing review and piles on a second helping of train-wreck with a very public meltdown. Carl’s ex-wife (Sofia Vergara) persuades him to travel to Miami with his son in tow to look at a food truck, and it’s from this career nadir that the chef hits the road to find out all over again what is most important to him in life.

In many ways, Chef, a passion project for the director, parallels Favreau’s own path in film. Like Carl Casper, Favreau is a big deal in his profession, with his previous films, Cowboys and Aliens, Iron Man and Iron Man 2 being massive big budget studio films. The auteur also juggles being a father with having a bustling career. Chef, is a return to simplicity for Favreau, akin to Swingers, which he wrote and starred in back in 1996 and helped launch him into the business. It feels like Favreau, smack dab in the middle of the massive Marvel Universe, is very content and loose making Chef, just as Casper is happiest when he’s creating divine dishes. Favreau has some playful digs at Hollywood, with Hoffman’s Riva telling Casper, “When you put that artsy shit on the menu, people don’t like it,” also saying, “now suddenly you’re gonna be an artist, well go be an artist on your own time.” Favreau does exactly that, and while Chef isn’t complex by a long shot, it makes up for any lack of real conflict with crisp direction, passion, and of course, food.

In a film with a top notch cast, food just might be the real star here. Favreau gives us mouth watering close shots of every stage of food preparation, from simply cutting vegetables to perfecting grilled cheese sandwiches; flawless carne asada to Cubano sandwiches and everything in between. The food in this film is art; it’s perfection, and the smells and tastes ooze through the screen, seducing us. The food-game works here as well as any cooking show, and elevates the film to delectable heights.

Favreau himself gives a charming performance, working seamlessly with his cast as well as his food. His Casper comes off as ultra confident with his skills as a chef, yet not so much regarding fatherhood and being a husband, and Favreau is able to negotiate these disparate worlds with subtlety and warmth. Emjay Anthony matches well with Favreau as his son Percy, who works as the youthful tech infusion to his dad’s old world outlook. Anthony does a fine job showing Percy’s desire to be close with his dad and learn from this man whom he admires, but doesn’t know as well as he’d like. Percy becomes the moral center in Chef, like a glue that binds the personal and professional elements of Carl’s life. Favreau and Anthony’s characters express a desire to learn from each other, and we get to see a vulnerable side of Casper that he may not of known existed, or at least forgot about. When Percy tries to give off a burnt sandwich just because it happened to be free, Carl fervently teaches Percy the ethics of doing right and pursuing perfection at what he loves; he’s bringing his son into his world, and the two actors portray the sentiment gracefully.

Sofia Vergara gives a restrained and sweet performance as Casper’s wife Inez, who sees that the Chef is unhappy before even Casper realizes it, and works to get her ex going again. Vergara is impressive here, and stands out amongst her other works as presenting a more refined and indistinct character whose love for Carl and Percy is apparent. John Leguizamo deserves much credit as well as Martin, Casper’s right hand man. Leguizamo brings a lot of warmth and humor to this faithful line cook turned sous chef, and gives us a memorable showing. Oliver Platt shines as food critic Michel, and Amy Sedaris has a hilarious cameo as Jen the publicist, and another cameo worth mentioning is Tony Stark himself, Robert Downey Jr., who manages solid laughs in his strange role.

The music sets the tempo immediately and pairs with the film like a good pinot. With a combination of Latin Jazz, New Orleans Jazz, and Blues, the music serves as a background to the films locations, Miami, New Orleans, and Austin; the music being chosen by Music Supervisor Mathieu Schreyer and scored by Lyle Workman. The filming locations themselves, are represented beautifully and soulfully, as Miami, New Orleans and Austin, respectively, each possessing their own unique feel in the film, and bringing vibrancy and culture to go along with regional food favorites.

Chef is an endearing film about passion, second chances, and of course, food. It’s not worth digging too deep, and should be taken for what it is. With enjoyable acting, tasty cuisine, and bright direction, Chef is a film we can sink our teeth into and not worry too much about empty calories, just enjoy the ride. 8.5/10

 

What Brett Watched

The Big Short (2015)

To drown in cliche’s and paraphrase Gordon Gecko, ‘Greed is good,” though Adam Mckay would have us believe that greed is indeed good, as long as the greedy feel bad about doing greedy things. The BIg Short, Directed by Adam Mckay and adapted by Mckay and Charles Randolph from Michael Lewis’ book The Big Short: Inside the Doomsday Machine, is well oiled machine of a film that is effective at making the dense narrative relatable, albeit from a condescending, and often times insulting parapet.

The film is built around it star-studded cast, which works as a circulatory system for a plot that will confuse the average person, this reviewer included. The tangled web starts with Christian Bale’s MIchael Burry, a hedge fund manager who first realizes that the US housing market, based on high-risk subprime loans, is unstable and likely to crash. Burry invests over a billion in his investor’s money to bet against the housing market, which infuriates his investors, obliges the big banks, and attracts the attention of Ryan Gosling’s Jared Vennet, a trader from Deutsche Bank, who decides to sell Burry’s credit defaults for his own profit. A mistaken phone call alerts Steve Carrell’s Mark Baum to the scheme, and Baum, a hedge fund manager disillusioned with the Wall Street big banks, and his team, hop on board. Finally, we have John Magaro’s Charlie Geller and Finn Wittrock’s Jamie Shipley, two young investors who by chance discover Vennett’s prospectus on the scheme and join the party. Are you getting all this? Need a break? Throw Brad Pitt, whose Plan B Entertainment produced the film, into the mix as Ben Rickert, a retired former trader who helps Geller and Shipley navigate Wall Street, and you have most of Hollywood represented in this film telling us about greed. Can you smell the irony yet?

Mckay’s characters, while wholly motivated by the all-mighty dollar, want to have have their cake and eat it too, as does the film in general. Burry understands the moral ambiguity of what he’s doing, but is driven by some primal nature to proceed, precisely because he can. The eccentric, metal-fueled Burry is initially motivated by opportunity; he can’t help but act on what he’s discovered, and Mckay often juxtaposes images of American pop/consumer culture with Burry making deals with the big boys of banking, thanks to crisp editing by Hank Corwin, to comment on the chasm between those in the banking world, and the wholly ignorant common people they prey upon. We get a sense that Burry is, or at least, becomes uncomfortable with profiting off of predatory lending, but follows through regardless in his quest to make the rich even richer, himself included; a building theme in the film. Bale does a terrific job here capturing the all-out weirdness of Burry, a flawed genius who is driven close to obsession to prove to himself, and everyone else, that he is right. Bale loses himself in the role; a modest caricature of entrepreneurship while simultaneously a toxic force of nature.

Baum and his team Frontpoint Partners, are used to send a similar message, although much less subtle. Mckay stresses Baum’s disdain for the ethics of Wall Street, and the character is poorly positioned as a moral pillar. Carrell gives the character all he has, and his efforts are impressive at times, but the character goes through a revelation process bordering on aloofness, and often ridiculousness. In Vegas, Baum dines with a CDO specialist (Byron Mann) and has an epiphany that predatory lending is wrong, as if he hasn’t been profiting off others his whole life. In another scene, Baum and his team learn from strippers about the housing bubble, because obviously strippers know best, and this requires Baum to not only go to a strip club, but actually receive a lap dance while learning this information. Mckay emphasizes repeatedly that Baum’s brother committed suicide in some attempt to garner our sympathy, yet this tragedy does little to effect the outcome; Baum still profits wildly from the housing crash, no matter how bad he feels about it.

In contrast to Baum is Jared Vennet, who Gosling tries to turn into a comedic springboard, but there’s not much here for Gosling to sink his teeth into. Vennet doesn’t have much room to grow as a character, ans as the film’s narrator, is used primarily to inject some machismo into the film and let us know that Wall Street is where the big boys play. Charlie Geller and Jamie Shipley cater to the same dilemma as Baum and his team, in that the during their quest to infiltrate Wall Street, they are used as a spotlight exposing the system’s fraud, yet still have no issue profiting. The duo is used frequently to remind us how confusing and opaque the financial world is, even though they are also portrayed as sharp self-starters.

Most of the film is, in fact, exposition, and with good reason. As Vennett tells us, “Wall Street loves to use confusing terms to make you think only they can do what they do.” It’s difficult stuff to understand for the uninitiated, and Mckay pulls out all the stops, including celebrity cameos, to explain the concepts. None of it works particularly well. Maybe using vapid celebrities to talk down to the audience seemed like a good idea to Mckay, but it only serves to interrupt the flow of the narrative. It was pure torture watching Selena Gomez read lines to us explaining synthetic CDO’s, and using Jenga is only slightly better. This exposition device comes off as smug and patronizing; almost like the film hates it’s audience. And maybe that’s the point. The film is yelling at us to care about this stuff, yet most people, then and now, are either willfully ignorant or just apathetic to this event. We’re distracted by pop culture, just as the the film distracts us with a starry cast and celebrity cameos; a dreary outlook for our future.

The BIg Short effectively and efficiently tells us about what happened behind the scenes leading up to the housing market crash in 2007-8, and it’s cast gives us a mostly inspired effort, however, the moral arcs of the characters fall flat and the expository methods miss the target. Mckay, in his most mature film to date, does succeed in telling us this dense story and that alone is admirable enough. 7/10.

 

What Brett Watched

The Terminal (2004)

Sometimes in life, we must go through the motions before we find our way home. In Steven Spielberg’s The Terminal, Viktor Navarski, does just that, and while becoming a symbol of hope to the everyman of our American melting pot. Navarski, charmingly portrayed by Tom Hanks, drives this human comedy into fulfilling territory and a strong supporting cast helps to highlight a core value of America that makes this place so special.

Viktor Navarski becomes a refugee who is stranded at JFK Airport when his home region of Krakozhia erupts in a military coup, causing his passport to be invalid. With the clothes on his back and a mysterious Planter’s Peanut can, Viktor sets up shop in Terminal 67 and calls it home. He is initially welcomed by Acting Field Commisioner Frank Dixon, played exquisitely by Stanley Tucci, but eventually Navarski’s quirky but charismatic mannerisms garner too much attention for the promotion-seeking Dixon, who vows to make Navarski someone else’s problem.

Spielberg does a brilliant job using comedy to comment on this notion of governmental red tape often seeking to make matters of immigration someone else’s problem. Navarski is deemed “unacceptable” by Dixon, a term at odds with a country founded by and dependent upon immigration. When Navarski is introduced to his new home at JFK, he’s told the only thing he can do is shop; as a person, he’s “unacceptable” but as a consumer, he’s welcome.

Surrounded by the capitalist wasteland of JFK airport’s international travel lounge, Navarski only gets glimpses of television clips showing his homeland in chaos, and this is juxtaposed with his surroundings; the dregs of hyper-American culture and the bright lights of endless enterprise. In this grotesque holding-cell, Viktor is left to fend for himself; and he does just that. With the resourcefulness and spirit of the common folk, Navarsky figures out how to survive, then thrive. The refugee catches the attention of many airport staff, who indulge themselves in the Viktor Navarski show as if it were a cheap reality television show.

The lounge at JKF works as a microcosm of our country, as the terminal itself, filled with workers of all backgrounds and restaurants of many ethnicity’s; The airport depends upon immigration, as does America. Navarski inspires hope in these people after an incident where he talks down an agitated man trying to get his dying father medicine, but cannot because of the unbending and often heartless American bureaucracy that would deny a man cheap medicine, but not a goat. Navarski navigates the situation cleverly and compassionately and wins the hearts of the Airport’s working force.

The Airport workers are endearing, and well-cast with the likes of Diego Luna, Zoe Saldana, Chi Mcbride, and especially Kumar Pallana, who plays Gupta Rajan, a janitor from India. Pallana provides some big laughs and just as much heart. Stanley Tucci gives a solid performance as Dixon, adding just the right amount of push to Hanks’ pull, while showing obsession with a bit of heart at the end. Catherine Zeta Jones does a fine job navigating a peculiar almost-romance as flight attendant Amelia warren. The connection between Amelia and Viktor is apparent but complicated in that she’s involved in an extra-marital affair. Zeta-Jones plays the unique role with care, as her Amelia yearns for a good man like Viktor, but her self-destructive tendencies drive her toward sour relationships. We want Viktor and Amelia to be together, but the irony of her going back to the married man, only because she uses this man to help Viktor finally gain entry to New York City, underscores the theme of sacrifice throughout the film, which we also see when Gupta chooses to return to India to face charges so Viktor can leave the airport.

Worth mentioning is John Williams’s playful and heartfelt score, which celebrates Eastern European culture, and reels it in with subtlety in just the right moments. Williams has some of his finest work here, and it perfectly reflects the themes.

In one if his more modest films, the Spielberg succeeds in bringing a heartfelt feature that has more to say than meets the eye. With an excellent cast and a fun and warm score, The Terminal triumphs. 8.5 out of 10

What Brett Watched

The Illusionist (2006)

Abracadabra! In a year of magic in film, the only trick Neil Burger’s The Illusionist conjures is to fool audiences into seeing this movie. Burger seems not quite sure what themes to highlight and in the end, with some slight of hand, we are left wonder about the role of magic and illusion in this film.

Written and directed by Neil Burger, and based loosely on Steven Millhauser’s short story, “Eisenheim the Illusionist,” The Illusionist brings an impressive cast, starring Edward Norton as Eisenheim, Paul Giamattie as Chief Inspector Walter Uhl, and Jessica Biel as Duchess Sophie Von Teschen. Set in Vienna in 1889, Burger’s film wants to develop a theme of class early on, presenting a forbidden love between young Eisenheim, the peasant son of a cabinet-maker, and Sophie, the daughter of an aristocrat. But alas, the two love-birds are separated and the resulting despair is what drives Eisenheim to wander the earth, eventually learning the secrets of illusion and magic.

It is during a performance by Eisenheim the Illusionist, who has made quite a name for himself, that we are introduced to Giamatti’s Uhl, a pragmatist, who none the less is quite enthralled by Eisenheim’s sorcery. Also attending the show is Eisenheim’s lost love Sophie, now a Duchess who is expected to marry Crown Prince Leopold, played acutely by Rufus Sewell. The meeting of these two star-crossed lovers sets the stage for a tale of lost love; or is it a tale of magic and illusion? It appears I’ve been hypnotized, because I’m not sure.

It’s unclear whether or not the magic is supposed to set up the social love story, or the other way around, but it feels that social structure is emphasized purely to drive the love story, but in the end, did it matter? In one scene, Giammati’s Uhl counters Eisenheim, saying that he’s a butcher’s son, a neat fact, but one that doesn’t matter to the story, other than to paint Uhl and Eisenheim as civil equals playing a game with royalty.

Concerning the magic, the film does have a chance to explore the mythology or mystery of it’s illusions, but either immediately dismisses them as mechanical illusions, or fails to explain them at all, despite Eisenheim’s illusions being quite impressive and seemingly impossible. (Cinematographer Dick Pope’s sepia saturated picture, while providing a filmic and old fashioned presentation, wears thin throughout the length of the film, giving it a tin-like ersatz feel, but the films illusions and magic shine with little CGI.) By the time of the big reveal, the illusions and magic take a back seat to the love story, and with little to no explanation of the tricks, the viewer is left to wonder how and why?

The lack of exposition causes the reveal to ring hollow, as we get twenty seconds of disparate images that tell us what happened, and even then it’s difficult to understand or get excited about, despite Giamatti’s Uhl laughing with a “they got me!” shrug. We’re expected to forget most of what we’ve seen for the last hour and a half accept this happy ending love story. Or was it a magic story? I’m still not sure.

As for the acting, Giamatti brings the best chops here, using tone and idiosyncrasy to overcome a weak script, and he often outshines Norton, who brings a wooden performance where a showmen is needed. Biel is forgettable and washed out; essentially a plot device to propel the story, and out-shined by her A-list co-stars. Rufus Sewell gives a strong performance, as does Eddie Marsan who plays Eisenheim’s manager.

In year that saw another magical movie in Christopher Nolan’s far superior, The Prestige, The Illusionist brings a strong cast with decent acting, but that’s about it. Burger’s film is uneven, and ultimately, undecided about what it wants to be. With a too little too late reveal appearing to explain the film’s mysteries, all mystique and curiosity fizzles and disappears like a rabbit in a hat.