Jennifer's Body

You may be forgiven for thinking that Jennifer’s Body was just another teen horror film. In many ways it is, of course, and I’m sure some people saw it as such, but there must have been a seed of doubt in their minds. The dialogue is smart and the plot is ironic and deviant. If you were in a cinema, you wouldn’t realise the reason for this until the end credits (there are no credits at the beginning): Jennifer’s Body was written by Diablo Cody. You may know her from her acclaimed debut Juno. This film is not unlike that one, except that it is firmly situated in the very gory teen horror genre. We’ve become used to writers and directors playing with genre in recent years, and some of these experiments are more successful than others. It has to be said that this is one of the least successful, primarily because the intelligent dialogue gets lost under the plot. You don’t really care what the actors are saying when someone is about to rip their chest open. Nonetheless, the film does stand out for its intention to subvert some standard narratives. The instigation of the action, for instance, is down to an insignificant indie rock band that practices satanic rituals in the hope of becoming successful. This film is enjoyably dark and twisted, but a lot of it was all done over ten years ago in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Moneyball

I think it is almost impossible for me to review this film. I read and loved the book. When I heard it was being made into a film, and who was making it (script by Aaron Sorkin, acting by Brad Pitt, Jonah Hill, and Philip Seymour Hoffman), I was excited but cautious. The book is about a concept, rather than a story, and it is about one man, rather than a plot. Billy Beane, the general manager of the Oakland A’s and a former failed player himself, fed up with losing to teams with far higher budgets, decides to implement a new way of thinking about baseball. This is a hard thing to put into cinema, but the makers of Moneyball give it a cohesive structure, following the team through the 2002 season, with flashbacks to Beane’s attempt at a career as a player. The pacing is slightly flawed as it so often is in films adapted from real life (a close comparison would be The Social Network). The successes and failures don’t follow a natural pattern until the end of the film. Here, though, they do reach a satisfying and compelling climax. There is good music and intriguing camera movement – for example, long tracking shots – but they do feel slightly out of place. Beane’s relationship with his daughter is a curious addition and there is no mention, for some reason, of an important player and figure in the book: Nick Swisher. Besides this, the focus on Beane’s obsession with winning is compelling, especially towards the end of the film. Ultimately, Pitt perhaps wasn’t the best choice for this role. There is a great tragedy to Beane’s character which is touched on here but not as fully explored as it could’ve been. He didn’t win the World Series; he didn’t go on to manage a better team; and his methods have not been fully embraced by the baseball community. Nonetheless, as soon as it ended I wanted to watch it again, and again. This may, however, say more about my attachment to the book than the quality of the film.

A Single Man

Colin Firth missed out on an Oscar in 2010 for this film. He won instead the next year with The King’s Speech. Arguably, it should’ve been the other way around. This is by far the better film, with a powerful, poignant performance by Firth in the lead role. The film ostensibly takes place over a single day, although we are given flashbacks to previous events. Firth stars as an English academic at an American university in the early 1960s whose partner has been killed in a car crash. He is not allowed to go to the funeral, due to the family’s reservations about homosexuality. The day of the film’s duration is intended to be his last day alive – he wants to commit suicide. Yet there is nothing overly morbid or pathological in this film. His principal relationships are with Julianne Moore’s character, one of his oldest friends with whom he has a confused but tender companionship, and one of his students, played by Nicholas Hoult, who becomes intrigued by his teacher and starts following him. It is a tragic, deeply affecting movie, with a profound desolation at its core. You may find it precocious, and little is done or said, but if you have the patience and the sensibility, you will find it hard not to be moved.

The Social Network

I was expecting to like this film. I felt both internal and external pressure to do so. Directed by David Fincher, written by Aaron Sorkin, starring Jesse Eisenberg, and having received extremely positive reviews, I was excited. Yet, as so often with such great anticipation, a certain amount of disappointment was inevitable. The film goes nowhere. It doesn’t follow the history of the company exactly (we are supposed to know a certain amount of it, which I didn’t - I don’t use Facebook), nor the history of a person, or a relationship. We are given snapshots that portend importance, but do not achieve it. It is fast-talking and fast-flowing, some of the dialogue is sparkling, but a lot of this is mumbled, incoherent or uninteresting to someone who doesn’t know anything about Facebook. In ten years, will this film be at all intriguing to anyone? I hesitate to dismiss it outright, because of the talent involved and the accolades it has received. The most fascinating aspect of the movie is the final effect on Zuckerberg himself, but this isn’t the whole film, and the whole film doesn’t lead inextricably to this point. It is almost an after-thought. The problem with a good ending is that it seduces us into thinking the whole film was good.

Drive

With last night’s Oscar success for The Artist (which I’ve yet to see), we’ve been given evident corroboration that you don’t need a lot of dialogue (or any) to make a good picture. One of 2011’s less successful films during the award season, Drive, also backs up this statement. Ryan Gosling says little to nothing throughout most of this movie (his character doesn’t even have a name), yet that won’t detract from your enjoyment of it. The film is deeply alluring –  due largely to Ryan Gosling’s good looks, the cinematography and the soundtrack. There is a somewhat deliberate attempt to give it a 1980s feel – the music, the slick look, the helicopter shots of L.A., and the Dirty Dancing-like typeface of the credits. Overall, it is a slight film which while impressive, doesn’t have a lot to say. At worse, some of you may finish watching it feeling empty, or nihilistic. The violence when it happens is short and brutal. I was reminded particularly of recent Korean cinema, especially Old Boy. It’s a film that has been perhaps understandably overlooked by the awarding bodies, and yet finds itself in the top ten of most critics’ lists of movies from 2011. It is definitely in mine.

Crazy Heart

Jeff Bridges won an Oscar for his performance in this film, beating Colin Firth (in a film I’m going to watch soon, for comparison). Bridges stars as ‘Bad’ Blake, a country singer whose career is falling apart as he struggles with alcoholism, whilst his former friend (Colin Farrell) becomes successful in his wake. It is not hard to predict that some one or thing will appear at the end of the first act to change his life. In this case it is Maggie Gyllenhaal, a single mother who wants to be a music journalist. She, as usual, is the most compelling presence in this film. Bridges is good but, as much as I do like him as an actor, there is nothing enthralling about his performance. He is not helped by the plot, which follows fairly ordinary lines. For UK viewers (or non-country music lovers in general) there is nothing that exciting about the world that we are thrust into. Bridges is to be admired for actually playing the guitar and singing, but that is technical ability, not acting brilliance. The film is little more than a slight, sensitive drama. The issues it raises are not engaged with or overcome. Whilst in film and literature we do enjoy bad things happening in the anticipation of a reversal or retribution, here it becomes unappealing as we watch for too long a talented man struggle through alcoholism. He is never really as desperate as he could’ve been, or as passionate in his high points. There are no great speeches. It is a tempered, moderate film, even if its ending is poignant and memorable.

X-Men: First Class

Whilst I’m generally wary of prequels that attempt to explain the origins of characters, it has to be admitted that this film succeeds where others have failed. The back story here is a truly compelling one, and it makes the earlier X-Men films more fascinating because of it (instead of some other prequels which merely serve to remove the mystery of their originals). In this movie we find out how Xavier and Magneto meet, and the pressures they come under as some of the first mutants to be brought to the attention of the government. The backdrop of the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962 provides an interesting, realistic setting for the otherwise fantastical events taking place. Although the film can’t resist the odd knowing, ironic joke, and playing to the audience who’ve seen the first three (four?) films, or read the comics (the scene with Wolverine springs to mind). There are some slightly ridiculous moments, but the movie in general is concerned with real issues, if perhaps a bit too portentous at times. The whole thing is greatly helped by the very good performances of James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender. Perhaps this isn’t the place to criticise a whole franchise, but the mutations seem random – that is, with no theme to them except to provide good cinema viewing, and interesting fight scenes (compare Heroes, or Fantastic Four). We have to take this film for what it is and what it attempts to achieve, however, and on those terms it succeeds admirably.