Duane Hopwood

There is a certain freedom when you lose everything you ever cared about in life. It sounds insane, I know. But it simplifies the process of life. It means you can start from scratch... A clean slate if you will.
"Duane Hopwood" (David Schwimmer) first loses his sobriety, then his wife and two daughters, then his job, then his hope and comes dangerously close to losing his will to live. At the custody hearing, he tells the judge that he "needs a reason to stay".
The only thing Duane doesn't lose is the unconditional love of his daughters and the loyalty of a very quirky group of friends.
What is so skillful about this film is the way in which it balances our sympathy for Duane's tragic situation with our understanding that Duane is the cause of his own problems and the only one who can remedy them.
The pivot, around which the film's emotional power revolves, is the quite magnificent transformation of David Schwimmer from the almost unshakable familiarity of his role as Ross on NBC's 'Friends' to this ever so sad and bedraggled ex-husband and father who is desperate to stop the sand slipping through his fingers. This is absolutely a career transforming role that, surprisingly to me, certifies that he has a very promising film career as a dramatic actor in front of him. If enough people see this film, he will be reaping the rewards with great parts for years to come.
Janeane Garofalo also delivers in an atypical role. As Duane's estranged wife, she delicately balances the cold-hearted reality of wanting to move on with her life and the sympathetic understanding of someone who knows him better than anyone else. Her role could so easily have drifted into cynical and clichéd 'mean ex-wife' territory... but this film is too smart to go down that path.
There are some truly fine performances from the supporting cast members. Judah Friedlander & Susan Lynch are both very good as Duane's new support system. Friedlander plays Anthony, an aspiring comedian who becomes Duane's roommate. Lynch is Duane's first girlfriend since getting divorced. Each of them change the pace of the film nicely and add depth and nuance to an already powerful story.
I also want to point out the girls who play Duane's kids. So often I complain that bad performances from kids can ruin the believability of a film... However, Ramya Pratt & Rachel Covey are both splendid here.
This film feels like a cross between "The Family Man" and "Leaving Las Vegas"... an odd combination indeed. But it works on so many levels. I laughed during this film. I shed tears in the final act. I cared about each and every character. It is a tremendously well written screenplay, and it is acted with precision.
This is a small independent feature that really deserves a wide audience. Unfortunately, it will have trouble finding one because it doesn't have a huge publicity campaign behind it or 75 copies lining the shelves of DVD stores. I can only hope that word of mouth and positive reviews like mine will convince a few people to seek this film out. If they do, they will find a diamond in the rough and will be telling all their friends about it too.

John Rabe

 'To the Führer of the German people. Chancellor Adolf Hitler. My Führer. As a loyal party member and upstanding German. I turn to you in a time of great need. The Japanese Imperial troops conquered the city of Nanking on December 12, 1937. Since then I have witnessed atrocious crimes against civilians. Please help to end this catastrophe and make an appeal to our Japanese allies in the name of humanity. With a German salute, John Rabe ' This is an actual letter, unheeded, that along with the diaries of John Rabe provide the story for this deeply moving film about the Japanese destruction of Nanking as gathered in the book "John Rabe: Der Gute Deutsche von Nanking" edited by Erwin Wickert and adapted for the screen and directed by the immensely gifted Florian Gallenberger. Having just seen Chuan Lu's 'City of Life and Death', a brilliant black and white Chinese epic film about this same period of history, it is doubly troubling to view this shameful piece of history. JOHN RABE is after all a biography of the man the Chinese still regard as a saint for providing shelter of thousands of victims of the rape of Nanking and as such we learn much more about the German machinations in the event than in Chuan's film. Burt there is a similarity of distinction: in both films the writer/director shows that both sides of the atrocity had heroes and champions.

The film shares the writing of the diary kept by John Rabe during this time frame and follows his diary as the story line. Rabe (Ulrich Tukur in a brilliant performance) was living with his wife Dora (Dagmar Manzell) in Nanking for 27 years as the head of the Siemens Factory, a German resource for construction in China. They were loyal to Germany, were members of the Nazi party, but lived the good life in the city: Rabe was a compassionate but focused director of the Chinese employees. He is to be retired by the Germans and replaced by a rigid, seemingly evil Werner Fliess (Mathias Herrmann). On the night of his tender farewell party the Japanese attack and it soon becomes apparent that Prince Asaka Yasuhiko (Teruyuki Kagawa) plans to decimate the city. There are others from other nations who are working Nanking - in the university, Valérie Dupres (Anne Consigny), in the hospital, Dr. Robert Wilson (Steve Buscemi), and in the German Embassy, the Jewish lawyer Dr. Georg Rosen (Daniel Brühl) - as well as Chinese aligned with Rabe, Langshu (Jingchu Zhang). When it becomes obvious that the Japanese will slaughter all the populace of the city, John Rabe gathers as many Chinese as he can into a Safety Zone where no soldiers or weapons are allowed, only the support with food and medical attention and beneficence Rabe is able to gather. The atrocities and bombings continue until the very existence of the Safety Zone is vulnerable. Rabe's gathering of the forces around him to protect as many citizens as he can, despite his own gradual physical failure due to his diabetes and lack of insulin, gains him the respect and admiration and love of the people of Nanking.

The film spares no images of the mass executions, the beheadings, and the sexual abuse and torture of the people of Nanking by the Japanese. Much of the film is difficult to watch. But even more tragic is the discovery of the information after the film is complete that John Rabe (as well as Dr. Georg Rosen) returned to Germany as undesirables in 1938 and died in poverty and abandonment by the Germans. The cast is exemplary: many fine cameo roles played by fine actors make this film as touching than the main story. This is a very fine cinematic achievement and deserves a global audience.

Biutiful

Those were the days, when in morality plays people were wearing black hats and white hats, then came Sergio Leone and put the Ugly into the center, the human nature, unstable, treacherous, weak, until black and white faded and only gray remained in Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven.
Biutiful, the latest Alejandro González Iñárritu movie is in the above context an anti-morality play, set to the bleakest possible world, or better underworld, of street crime, drugs, disease, illegal immigrants, sweat shops and lowering costs, but where the costs have distinctive human faces. The creatures that dwell at the bottom of the sea. A search for empathy, solidarity, kindness, love, seems futile in this world in which Inarritu searches for beauty.
And we have a perfect anti-hero Uxbal, a middle aged man, a former street kid, who did not move far away from where the circumstances have thrown him and also seemingly failing in everything he tries to do. He has problems connecting to his son, tries to keep his wife away from his children, he fails to protect his "client" street-peddler of counterfeit goods, a Chinese young turk is trying to replace him in his business of connecting cost-lowering sweatshop owners with people who have no better options in life and the police with its overt brutality (to which no-one objects) and covert insatiable greed. Ironically he earns additional money with (again seemingly earnestly) trying to help people (for a small fee of course) to pass into afterlife, but having problems accepting his own pending death from a prostate cancer. He is surrounded with a support cast of closet homosexual sweat-shop owner, bipolar wife, non-violent asshole brother and of course crews of illegal immigrants (if they still count as human, as for example in Children of men).
We have to give Uxbal credit for trying hard to do the right thing. He tries to help everyone the best way he can, he is trying to support his family, he is being loyal to his business partners and he treats them like partners, not like faceless numbers, he tries to help those for who we usually do not care about (even if for a commission), but he fails in practically everything.
The black street peddlers are being deported to their home countries, chines workers are dead because of cheap heaters Uxbal has bought to keep them warm in a cold cement basement. His children risk to become street kids (his own fate, he really does not want them to experience). His wife ends up in a hospital. But he manages to gather some money, to provide for his kids, all of which he leaves in hands of a woman, illegal immigrant, a wife of a deported street-peddler, no relation to him.
And there we find finally some hope, some grace, skewed beauty in this movie. Walking past the green shark composed of (pictures of) 500 € bills, Ige returns to take care for Uxbal's children, passing the opportunity to return to her homeland, reunite with her man, perhaps start a business with money Uxbal has left her and most probably live a better life than the one in the portrayed Barcelona barrio.
So this cough-ball of dirt of a movie, after all the wisdom, reflection seems to be dead (I cannot find any other metaphor for a dead owl) is a morality play under all its complexity after all, the only possible for today. There were times, when there was something to fight for (or to flee from, just to die alone in a foreign country shortly afterwards, as in case of Uxbal's father) and these are times of sharks composed of 500 € notes, whose bite is not apparent, but no less deadly. And here we can compare the youthful enthusiasm, hope of a better life (even elsewhere) of our fathers, with the disillusionment of today. At the end of the movie Uxbal is heading towards abyss with his young father (Smoke anyone?). So are we.

We Have a Pope

Facing upto one's limitations is the most humble trait that man has inherited when he evolved out of apes, thousands of years back. It doesn't take much to let the world know that you're not what people expect you to be, rather you're someone who is just you. Everytime great speakers, diplomats and leaders of the world move our hearts with their great speeches and powerful presence, we often wonder how these people carry the burden of such enormous responsibility on their backs, especially when he or she is actually quite old. Beyond a point, such people transcend the layers of humanity and become something else in our eyes. We revere them when we want, revile them when we want too. They become the bean-bags of their people.

It is in this context that Nanni Moretti throws open the gauntlet to his 91 year old newly elected pontiff, the new vatican pope, head of the roman-catholic church. Even as the landscape-like processions and meticulous, traditional methods slowly uncloud to reveal our protagonist, we could feel the tension that he involuntary summons out of his heart. Michel Piccoli, in probably the most enduring performance by a nonagenarian has what may safely be assumed, the most innocent-looking pair of eyes in the world. He's scared of responsibility. He's frightened of large crowds. He's someone who spreads love not from a balcony, but beside shoulders. In other words, he shows the qualms every person bestowed with responsibility does initially. When people say responsibility spurns fear, they're mostly afraid to admit it in public. But here, father Pope doesn't set his fears aside, hold onto them for dear life and fights to save himself from greatness.

One man's fears shall not be of any relevance when the perspective of the consequences is so big, it could damage the reputation of an entire faith, something that close to a billion people believe in. Hell, we're talking about an individual to whom even presidents, queens, princes and prime ministers bow to. The enormous pressures that now rest upon the shoulders of the solitary old man, makes the church call a therapist (Nanni Moretti) at this critical moment. The therapist however is able to do little with the limited privacy he's granted with his patient. However, he's now not permitted to leave the Vatican church until his patient is cured. In the middle of this paradoxical situation, the pose goes into such a state, he vanishes from the church itself and ventures into the city, without permission. Of course this information is not divulged to anyone present, resulting in some hilarious cover-ups. Now among the cardinals still locked inside the church, we start to see a whole different side to these religious heads of state. The fact that these people are also human beings, ordinary men and women, like you and me is surely obvious, but not necessarily not too apparent. The livery, the aura, the feeling of religious peace and serenity these people exude when they're in the eyes of the world is in sharp contrast to the people who they really are. From competing in sports, to consuming tranquilizers for sleep disorders, to eating disorders, we see them as a bunch of school kids, happily engrossed in their own worlds.

Nanni Moretti has mostly cast non-actors for his small crowd of cardinals. And through these inexperienced actors, he brings out exactly what is needed out of such roles: their innocence. We see these men, inexperienced in the harsh, cruel ways of life, loitering around in groups like school children, gossiping, laughing and chatting. The therapist too isn't spared of the irony. He had recently split with his wife who also happened to be a better therapist than he is, and who's apparently now living with another therapist.
It's true the movie tries to be too proud of the fact that that they're portraying some very important characters. I'm not exactly certain whether the locations that we see are really those from within the Vatican church or not. But the effect is flawless, making full use of the architecture, backed by an excellent score. Even the crowds and their reaction seem natural and eager, there could be a chance that this project began filming a couple of years back when Pope Benedict took charge. Being a relatively unknown film at the Chennai Film Festival, there weren't too many people who were keen on watching a movie about a Pope, especially when the show was in place of the Iranian film A Separation, as an alternative. It really didn't fill in the void as much as we expected it to, but was enjoyable, nevertheless.

Another Year

 On the surface this is a movie about the day to day life of an elderly, happily married couple (Tom and Gerri), their son and friends, among them Mary and Ken. All seems well in suburban London until that very last shot of the film, a most disturbing scene, the climax of the movie.
We see Mary at the kitchen table of her friends and as the conversation passes her by she realizes she doesn't matter to them any more. Worse, we see it dawning on her that she may never have mattered to them at all in their relationship of 20 years. The comparison with her car is inevitable, a vehicle that should have brought her a sense of freedom, but turned out to be a lemon if ever there was one. As another commenter wrote, it is a scene of exceptional cruelty. (Can I nominate Ms Manville for an Oscar, please?)
How could this insincerity, this not-so-mild form of wickedness persist over such a long time ? Perhaps it has something to do with the British fondness of manners, but I think it has to do with work, more specifically in Tom and Gerri's case with having a profession, being a professional.
A professional is someone who is applying a set of rules, an algorithm to a standard input to produce a standard output. (What distinguishes a professional from a craftsman is that the input, rules and output are so complex that they defy supervision.) Tom and Gerri are professionals and what they are doing is extending their professional attitude to their personal lives. Their relationship with Mary is professional. Their marriage is dealt with professionally. Their marital bliss is ultimately based on their contentment with the standardized output it produces. Tomatoes anyone ?
Contrast this with Ken and Mary. Ken is an alcoholic in bad physical shape. He was once handsome however and has a good heart. His problem is that he questions the meaning of his job, which in his case seems to amount to questioning the meaning of his life. And then there is Mary. Her goal in life is Love, not work, thereby committing the ultimate sin (not making work your life goal that is).
Two scenes illustrate the stranglehold work has on our lives (and the importance of it for the movie's theme, I think). In the first an Asian couple is visiting Joe, an old man threatened with eviction and a young woman acting as his interpreter, her ability to help the old man, however, limited to the duration of her lunch break. In the second Carl arrives too late for his mother's funeral, having been stuck in a traffic jam. The funeral couldn't be postponed however, another one was already waiting.
So are Tom and Gerri right ? At the dinner table Tom is telling of how he and Gerri met, by chance on their first day in university. This detail hints at the internal inconsistency of their way of life. And of course right at the beginning of the movie there is this session of Gerri with the sleepless patient, an Everywoman. It shows her utterly failing in her role of counselor, her very profession.
Mary is indeed looking for love in all the wrong places. At the end of the film you realize that, despite all appearances Tom & Gerri's was such a place.