Splatter: on FILM

The conflict: the city is broken.

In her young adult book of vignettes, Sandra Cisneros writes partly autobiographical glimpses into growing up on the poor side of a big city. A short chapter near the end is called “Alicia and I sitting on Edna’s steps.” In it, the main character laughs when Alicia discusses whether the Mayor will stoop to “fix” the city.

This film, Broken City, is about just that: mayoral re-election, and whether Russell Crowe is willing to stoop to fix anything.

Promises made and broken. Vows questioned. Lives taken. For Mark Wahlberg’s character, fixing the city involves finding himself, his real purpose, his moral compass. In his search for self he gets mixed up in the Mayor’s fight.

The language is as profane as it gets and as unnecessary as the suggestive scenes, but somehow the writer also offers complex characters and scenes to be solved. Russell Crowe is allowed to murmur an actual soliloquy. This feels like a writer’s film. Brilliant hints, bread crumbs really, are dropped along the way. Films like this train you to pay attention. Forget Pavlovian laugh tracks for a moment and enjoy hunting on your own for clues in radio and TV announcements, painted murals, and scenes of baptism.

“Who’s going to fix it?  Not the Mayor.”

Dear Katheryn Bigelow ,

I am writing this to thank you and more so to apologize for missing approximately 1.5 hours of your film. Please see the following ad addressed to Mr. Affleck.

Dear Ben Affleck,

I hope you’ll understand that I did not intend to cheat you out of a ticket sale for your recent film Argo, of which I caught approximately 1.5 hours of its 2 at full length.

You see, the introduction, or hook, if you will, of the film Zero Dark Thirty (2012) contains scenes of torture in which likable characters repeat, “You lie to me, I hurt you.” These only increased with intensity on an already suspense-laden plot. So, I took a walk in order to miss the climax of an opening sequence. My jaunt led me to the candy counter and oddly, into your film, Sir.
70’s quaffs and mustaches greeted me there, as did you yourself.
Your character never smiled as he shook hands with Hollywood types and  CIA agents alike. He maintained the sullen  composure as he met, instructed, and ushered his charges through busy middle eastern markets and streets.
I was amazed to find myself in the same desperate, fearful tone as the film two doors down, as well as the same part of the world. They somehow complimented one another. I augured well despite the tenor of both films and, recognizing the timing and opportunity, boldly reentered Zero Dark Thirty after your film ended.
The timing felt serendipitous. The vivacious and lovely Jessica Chastain had taken her place as the lead and had begun her window count of days til Bin laden’s death. She carried the weight of the mission and could do nothing else. Tenacious.
She ate alone, swore like a sailor, and stalked each premise undaunted in her quest.
The final scenes took place through night vision lenses. We in the mask and on the man hunt. Effective.
The final scene is my favorite. The sunset, tears, and a question: now what?

Brilliant finale. Now what?

So, I write to thank both directors for taking big risks with the film medium to tell stories which would otherwise be left to fade into whispers.

Sincerely,
Splatter: on film

The stage lamps are lit, the horses in place. The curtains newly mended and the hay fields cut.

Director Joe Wright choreographs the tragic loves of Russian elites who must choose between duty-bound, repetitive lives of show and the destructive feeding of appetites. One thing that I love about Mr. Wright’s direction is that period pieces do not call for period characters. They are very real people. This I believe is actually due to  the brilliant screenwriting of Tom Stoppard.

It is not Tolstoy‘s ancient sin story that coaxes the audiences to enjoy this film, however. It is Joe Wright’s direction.

 Wright works special magic on screen. He made his mark early on with long choreographed pan shots like the scene following Elizabeth Bennet through the entire house for the party in Pride & Prejudice (2005) and the incredible Dunkirk sequence shot with Steadicam in Atonement (2007). These were just the dipping of a toe compared to his work in Anna Karenina.

Shakespeare said, “All the world’s a stage.” Wright must have agreed when he set Anna Karenina almost entirely on stage. Do not miss the metaphor of Russain aristocracy living for show in Anna’s time.

Taking the politic of fishbowl living to new levels, Wright lifts Tolstoy’s characters from the page like little marionettes or figurines and sets them up to play roles on little play doll stage pieces. Moving players on intricate sets interwoven and laced, one set piece with another.

Lift the curtain on one stage and enter a warm dining room. Walk from center stage through the rear stage doors onto frozen tundra of the Russian countryside. Anna steps off the train onto the rafters above the stage where characters frozen in time offer downcast looks for her gossiped indiscretions.

“Divorce is one thing, but dinner is quite another” says MacFadyen’s quirky character who has just gotten away with yet another extra-marital tryst. He played the dashing Darcy in Wright’s Pride and Prejudice (2009) with Keira Knightly, obviously two of Wright’s favorites.

Morality plays of old showed the folly of immoral ways. This play showed both the domino crash from consistently compromising moral character and the polar joy of seeking peace, forgiveness, and purity. Too often a vacuum exists where only consequence is shown. Here birth and death meet and we see the frivolity of stage living purely for show as well as an equally fruitless existence if self-served.

 The cessation of appetite alone can only destroy. The irony isn’t lost in the wings.

It is Jude Law‘s character, the husband Karenina, who baffles entirely. He who gives all for country, who supposedly forgives, he is the one for whom I believe this play / novel is written. I believe he is the central figure on stage. He takes the final bow, and only then do we recognize that his experience of living in the tall grasses of nature watching the children play is still only a guise, for the man still lives on the stage making choices for appearance sake in order to keep his good political name.

His parallel is perhaps Oblonsky, Macfadyen’s character, who runs his business methodically and can have his affairs and the forgiveness of his wife but is left literally standing alone in the cold, excluded from the joys of family.

“All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players;”