Das Experiment (The Experminent)

Taxi driver and freelance journalist Tarek Fahd spots an advert in a newspaper for volunteers to take part in a psychological experiment over two weeks. He arrives along with a group of others, to be divided up into prisoners and guards before being placed into a simulated prison and provided with rules, Tarek being prisoner number 77. Initially everyone is enjoying themselves but soon the guards tire of the prisoners taking the p*ss and decide it is time to clamp down on their behaviour. As they realize that they have no limit on their powers, the actions of the guards become increasingly brutal and uncaring.

Based on the infamous experiments carried out at Stanford in the 1970's, this film had it all going for it in terms of being an effective thriller while also looking at the ways that human nature will gravitate towards the cruel once they are placed in positions of power. I decided to watch this film because it seemed interesting on this basis but also very topical considering the behaviour of the US soldiers in the Iraq prisons – mostly poor 'white trash' types who were corrupted when they suddenly found themselves in a position they had never been in before – control. Like them, the characters here gradually get more extreme – just like they did in the real experiment as well. With this topicality it is no surprise that I was easily taken in by the film and was never really bored by it. Being a thriller in its own right, the film has to settle into the eventual action conclusion but even this works pretty well and doesn't detract from what has gone before in terms of interest.

This is not to say it is perfect, because it could have been much better than it was. The constant cutting to Tarek's girlfriend now and in flashback only took away from the film and she could have still played her part at the end with much less time during the main body of the film. Also it became a little too far-fetched for the sake of drama – a recent television drama in the UK did it differently by actually recreating the same experiment as opposed to this film which needed to go harder and faster in order to reach the eventual running and fighting stage! But it still works and, to be honest, it is well worth seeking out for the 'human nature' aspect alone – it had a special resonance in Germany but it is hard not to be put in a thoughtful mood given recent events in Iraqi military prisons.

The cast are roundly good and all slip one way or the other in a convincing manner. Beibtreu is good once he gets past the stage where he is making trouble for the sake of it – this is necessary to speed the descent into cruelty but it was laid on a bit thick at the start. After this his performance is much more evenly balanced and he is a good lead. I struggled to pick up the names of all the others because they were mostly unknown to me but the head guard was very good while the rest of the cast did more than just deliver their pigeon-holed characters, where really they could have been nothing more than 'prisoner who goes crazy', 'timid guard', 'angry guard', 'silent prisoner' etc – they weren't, they were all pretty real people.

Overall this is not the best thing to come to if you are after a sort of documentary drama about the original experiment but it is still a very good film. It is exciting and dramatic while still having a bit of a brain on it – an asset made more interesting by what we have seen in Iraq over the past few months with guards becoming even worse than those we see in this film! Not a perfect film but a well made one that is interesting, involving and exciting and one that is well worth looking up.

The author writes under the pen-name of 'bob the moo' from Birmingham, UK

Synecdoche, New York

The most exciting aspect of Synecdoche New York is that Charlie Kaufman is attempting greatness. The only real criticism you could level at this movie is that Kaufman tries to do too much. One should never fault a filmmaker for too much ambition. This is a first film by an untested director. For a freshman effort it is absolutely stunning in it's bravery and refusal to placate a mediocre, consumer audience. This movie is unabashedly an art film first and an entertainment second. You must meet the work halfway and join Kaufman on his spiraling, absurdist journey.

In an era of artistic timidity this movie is like a cleansing breath of fresh air. Charlie Kaufman is not afraid to explore topics that most other filmmakers would rather not touch. I sense an almost Bunuel influence in Kaufman's obsession at pushing bodily decay in the audience's face. Make no mistake, this film is about mortality and the end of life. A light, date night at the movies this ain't! If you want to watch a true work of art that you can really engage with intellectually then you should definitely watch this picture.

When Charlie Kaufman introduced the film at the Toronto Film Festival he described it as a conversation between himself and the viewer. That description is very apt. The piece has the exhilarating feel of a late night college bull session. It is a movie about everything and is not afraid to ponder the big questions while still employing a great deal of subversive and wry humor. If you like movies that take real chances than you should watch this picture. If you enjoyed Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Being John Malkovich, you will savor this film as Kaufman going for broke. This movie is like a cinematic Rorschach test.

To really enjoy this film you must have a high tolerance for metaphor and symbolism. Kaufman constantly plays with the narrative to bring forth subtext. This is a movie that cannot even be deciphered in one viewing. There is an accumulation of detail in this movie that is staggering. I defy the most eagle-eyed viewer to catch all the important details the first time they view it. This film is such a rich construction and the constantly roving eye of the camera mirrors the anxiety of the protagonist as well as the anxiousness of the viewer as one tries to take it all in.

Phillip Seymour Hoffman's minimalist performance as Caden Cotard will be unfairly derided in some circles as lazy. These unfortunate critics are not paying attention. Hoffman's character is so ground down by life that he barely has the energy to lift his head. His character is really just a fulcrum that other less neurotic characters spin around. The more Cotard tries to dramatize his life, the less sense it makes to him. Time ravages his body as he keeps trying to encapsulate the whole of his experience in a massive work of art. The whole movie is about an act of creation. Cotard's need to make sense of his life through art mirrors the audience's need to understand Kaufman's complex layers of symbolism. Kaufmann is doing the most important job of an artist. He is asking questions without providing the answers. It is left to the audience to figure out what, if any, grand statement is being made by the piece.

When the movie ended, the strongest feeling I came away with was one of melancholy tempered by a certain sense of hope as well. Kaufman is a secret romantic and that ultimately is what I love about him. As bleak and full of despair as things become within the narrative, the movie is ultimately comforting. The main character finds solace in another character that was not previously important to him. The final truth is that there is no truth. The fact that we die is what gives life meaning. As you get older everything is taken from you. Life is simply a transitory process. However, that transitory quality gives it urgency and meaning. There is real resonance to be found in our connections with one another.

I walked out of this picture in a sort of trance. It is one of the most important and exciting films to have been released this year. This is not a movie that you can like easily, but it is possibly a film that you will come to love. I know it is a film that I will watch many times in an attempt to catch all the small bits of nuance and detail. How wonderful and thrilling it is to discover a work of art that defies easy categorization. What you take from the piece may be entirely different from what I take from it. This fluidity of meaning is it's power and Kaufman's artistic triumph.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Just when it increasingly appears the wells of Hollywood's creativity have dried up, continually resorting to reworking tired cinematic and narrative clichés, films like The Curious Case of Benjamin Button emerge to unexpectedly rekindle faith in the industry. Intriguing enough by its mere storyline core (a man is born a senior citizen, and 'ages' backwards throughout his life), what could have resulted in an overly gimmicky excuse for a melodrama is seemingly effortlessly transformed by the delicate directorial touch of David Fincher into something far less contentious and volumes more poignant and lyrical. A haunting, resonant exploration of time, life, death and the transition from one to the other, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button miraculously manages to be sombre and emotionally draining without once becoming excessively dour, with sublime bits of charm, humour and hope peppering the profundity and making it a true cinematic experience for the ages.

To call The Curious Case of Benjamin Button close to a contemporary masterpiece would hardly be overstating things, and yet such praise feels out of place, not because the film is not deserving of it (far from it) but that it makes no claims as to aiming for such heights - were it not for the enormous budget and stars, the film could easily have been a small, independent production. Few films prove so enormously ambitious and yet ultimately unassuming, with such vast scopes, and yet such simple aims all things considered, and Fincher toes the line between the grand and the intimate with remarkable precision. Moreover, it is interesting to see perennial cynic Fincher tap into such unbridled emotional resonance (the film is unlikely to leave a single dry eye in the house), and yet such moments are pure sentiment trimmed of all sap and Hollywood tear-jerking cliché, making them all the more gently genuine and lasting. If his past films such as Fight Club and Seven appeared to be expunging hidden depths of suppressed rage and bitterness, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button appears an attempt to tap into more tender feelings, and the result is in no way less magnificent.

While on very first impression the film might be sized up as overlong, rambling and full of extraneous subplots, over time it becomes increasingly clear the film's intent is not merely to tell the story of Button, but, to the best of Fincher's considerable ability, to live alongside him, complete with all the highs, lows, and little bits in between. This not only provides incredible empathy and pathos for Button's unconventional situation, but allows the story through the character to extrapolate and explore deeper existential themes, reflecting upon the notions of time and its fleeting potential, the overlap of life and death and the importance of living life to the fullest regardless of adversity. While it can be argued that despite this the script still has the occasional clunky bit of exposition, with storytelling so operatic yet paradoxically quiet and unassuming, such concerns only register as rare minute breaches in the film's incredible quality.

Fincher's flair for stunning visuals also carries through in fully force, from the luscious period costuming and sets to the bold visual contrast between the exhilarating (a tense second world war sea battle) to the amusing (boyhood/elderly man Benjamin discovering alcohol) to the heartbreakingly dramatic (Benjamin's quietly horrified meeting with his father) and the seamless flow between them. Alexandre Desplat's luminous musical score and Claudio Miranda's grandiose cinematography ably reinforce the lyrical content. This all, of course goes without even mentioning the film's most central hook, the visual effects and prosthetic 'reverse aging' effects. At first startlingly convincing, the greatest testament to the incredible visual talent on display is how near immediately the viewer forgets about it, remaining so engrossed in Button's bizarre story to extract one's self from the narrative enough to properly appraise the incredible work put into it - a sign, if any, of masterful film-making.

As the titular Button, Brad Pitt is simply a marvel, delivering a performance which is quiet, ego-less, unshowy and all the more supremely effective and credible for it, perfectly convincing no matter what age or contrasting physical appearance. Infusing unassuming heart and unspoken pathos into a character stoically resigned to 'unusual' circumstances rather than milking them for all their emotional worth, Pitt's Benjamin Button becomes an unforgettable underdog for the ages, all the more effective from Pitt's continual refusal to adhere to cliché or Hollywood showboating. Cate Blanchett proves just as marvellous, also essaying a character over the course of over 70 years of her life and proving completely convincing and heartwarming every step of the way while delivering a tremendously emotional performance with the utmost precision and grounded care. Rather than delivering a typical female romantic lead type, Blanchett's Daisy is a fleshed out, enormously credible human being, making her romantic struggle with Button all the more achingly affecting. Supporting the lead duo and their simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking relationship, Taraji P. Henson gives an enormously powerful yet understated performance as Button's surrogate orphanage mother, and Jason Flemyng proves a perfect combination of quirky and hauntingly credible as Button's estranged father. Finally, Tilda Swinton delivers a performance layered with emotional volumes and nuance as a fleeting romantic interest of Button's, managing to both capture the audience's heart and contempt simultaneously.

Despite demanding nearly three hours of the viewer's life, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button makes every last second more than worth it, its power and incredibly uniform quality made all the more appealing by its lack of pretension and vehement avoidance of cliché. While the story or length may not appeal to every last audience member, it is all the more of a shame, as such unanticipated cinematic mastery deserves to be enjoyed and reflected upon by as many as possible.

Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain

For 20 years Jean-Pierre Jeunet collected small astonishing and intriguing moments in his life, taking notes in his diary, not knowing that he was up to co-write and direct one of the most successful film in French film history. Jean-Pierre Jeunet fell in love with the story and the film he titled Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain. But it's popularity was even a surprise to Jean-Pierre Jeunet himself as he once stated: `I guess I have to produce a film like Alien Resurrection (USA 1997) to make a movie like Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain', obviously not aware of the films potential. Unfortunately the film didn't win an Academy Award for the best foreign film in 2001 which still puzzles film fans all over the world.

I consider Jean-Pierre Jeunet's film as a masterpiece. In my opinion, it is an outstanding film in film history for its cinematography, the music, the story, but above all the overall atmosphere. Going to the cinema is like meditating. We sit for over one-hour and comfortable chair - our breath slows down and as the lights are switched off, we enter a dream world. We seek to escape our normal world just for a short period of time, to experience something totally different and yet, we want to find ourselves in this world. Thanks to Jean-Pierre Jeunet I had a wonderful dream, I will never forget.

Jean-Pierre Jeunet and his camera man, Bruno Delbonnel, wanted to make the film look like the Spanish painter did his artwork. To establish a dreamlike atmosphere they used mostly red and green, sometimes adding a little blue spot in the picture to set the contrast. Audrey Tautou (Amélie Poulain), mostly wears either red or green dresses, as well as the housekeeper (Yolande Moreau as Madelaine Wallace, concierge), and Amélie's mother (Lorella Cravotta as Amandine Poulin) in the beginning of the film. When Amélie Poulain sits down to watch the tragedy of her life on her TV, there is an outstanding of a blue lamp in the background. Sometimes the use of color gets very obvious. Amélie's apartment for example is almost completely red, the underground station and the train station are kept in green and the green grocery store stands out from the grey buildings. Honestly, I haven't noticed the extreme use of color the first time I watched the movie. I just wondered how Jeunet succeeded in establishing such a fabulous atmosphere.

The atmosphere is also supported by the magnificent music by Yann Tiersen who has composed 19 songs in 15 days for this movie. The principal motive appears in many variations somehow being joyful, yet at the same time sad - slow and sometimes fast and activating. The music supports every moment in the film and becomes the sound of a fabulous world.

Camera movement certainly contributes its part to the atmosphere. Balanced and unbalanced pictures contribute to the message of each shot. Right in the beginning when Amélie's mother is introduced, the picture is balanced symbolizing her pursuit for correctness and cleanliness. The same can be about the first shots of Amélie's father. When talking about his dislikes, the shots are unbalanced. But more impressing are some camera movements. For example there is an astonishing high angle shot of Amélie flipping stones on le canal in Paris. The camera shows her leaning on a fence, flying above her head then craning to a low angle shot to show her flipping stones in the direction of the camera. Another one worth mentioning might be the chase of the repairs person. Nino is shown falling up the steps chasing the repairs person for the photo machines. The camera turns to show the man getting in the car driving off. Still in a low angle Nino starts his moped, trying to follow the worker, almost hitting a car. Amélie is entering the picture running after Nino. The camera follows her, then turning almost 180° around her to show her hold Nino's red bag that he lost. When Amélie sits in front of the station, we see her in a long shot, the camera dollies in to fly over her head to an over-the-shoulder shot. Some of these camera movements are really awesome, not only from a technical point of view, but moreover from an aesthetic standpoint. They support the dreamlike atmosphere, adding interesting aspects to ordinary actions.

Audrey Tautou at the age of 23 is an astonishing actress. I really can't imagine anybody doing the job better than she did. To me she is not only giving life to the character, she lives it. It's wonderful to watch her. There was no moment when I had the faintest impression that there is something wrong or inappropriate in her acting. Also Mathieu Kassovitz as Nino Quincampoix is extraordinarily gifted with his talent. Most of the actors have done a wonderful job, although I want to mention the scene when Amélie's mother gets her nervous breakdown because of the suicidal fish. This scene appeared to me exaggerated which it probably was intended to be. Anyhow, the extreme close-up of Yolande Moreau was to intriguing to me, so I shrug back in disgust rather than laughing about it. I gues this was the director's choice, so I don't hold her responsible for that.

Another negative and distracting thing where some scenes when Jean-Pierre Jeunet decided to show the key in Amélie's pocket after copying it and bringing the original key back to the grocer's door in a very unrealistic way. He uses a digital effet showing the key's silhouette in a yellow light. This is a technique that hasn't been used very often in the film, except for showing Amélie's heart going faster and the old, blind man feeling very happy after being guided by Amélie. All these scenes disturb the otherwise wonderful cinematography. There could have been other ways to communicate the actions. A simple smile on the old's man face, a close-up of Amélie's hand letting the copied key slide into her pocket and the heart beat as a background sound would have done the same without disturbing the atmosphere.

Anyway, Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain is still my favorite movie. The narration is perfectly arranged taking its time to tell every detail. I enjoyed the subplots a lot that are told in a subtle way. Maybe the introduction is a bit to long, but still I enjoyed every second. Maybe I am too used to typical Hollywood productions, where you can tell the stages of a story by watching the clock. Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain has its own rhythm driving the story forward not by a superhero trying to achieve his goal, but by a hero that knows that she has time to arrange everything by strategic means. Maybe that is also one reason why I like this film so much. The story is told with time and not against time. There is no last minute-rescue, no time pressure, no need to act. It just takes its time as life does.

In my opinion, Jean-Pierre Jeunet created a masterpiece. A film that is not only outstanding because of the cinematography, the special effects or any other technical characteristics, but also combines the perfection of craftsmanship with a wonderful story, humour, and emotion.

La Cité des enfants perdus

A soulless man named Krank who was long ago created by a brilliant but unstable scientist is struggling to remain alive. His inability to dream has made him age at an accelerated pace, and the only way he can halt this process is by stealing the dreams of children. He is aided in this endeavour by the other creations of the scientist: six identical goofy-looking clones, one midget and wide-faced wife named Mrs Bismuth, and a super-intelligent brain which lives in a fish-tank and sees using an old-school bendable camera lens. Krank appears successful at stealing children's dreams, but he is not a happy man because all the dreams he captures are nightmares by children who are obviously traumatized by the kidnapping process.

Meanwhile, Krank's hunting ground, the city of lost children, is a treacherous place; Krank's "cyclops" henchmen are always trying to capture children for his purposes. We follow the story of a young girl named Miette (meaning "crumb" in French) who belongs to a small and resourceful gang of children who are exploited by Siamese witch-like twin sisters who run a school where the children steal for them. Miette befriends a simple-talking strongman named Mr. One (Ron Perlman, aka Hellboy) who is looking for his kidnapped little brother Denree. As the story progresses, Miette must escape from the clutches of the evil Siamese twin witches, while also helping One find his long-lost Denree.

The movie features terrific acting by all involved. Especially noteworthy is the high quality of the child actors. Further, although the dialogue is simplified in the subtitles for the sake of easy reading, it is very imaginative. Of special note is the scene where one of the clones is describing a dream to Krank. Many dialogue quirks help to give the movie a unique and memorable feel, such as the writer's fondness for making insults out of calling others the name of an unfavourable animal. City also features great casting, with every actor having a look which suits the character ideally (note the one gluttonous and very cute boy). But perhaps the best aspect of the movie is its cinematography. Every shot is done impeccably, and the look and feel of the movie is very much in the surrealist vein in which the directors intended. Make no mistake, this is a full-fledge dark fairy-tale fantasy movie. Finally, the classical score complements the movie very well.

If there is anything that detracts from the movie, it would be the lack of focus. The movie hops from one scene to another without allowing enough development of any particular story thread early on. As such, we don't get a good grasp of what the story is really about until later in the movie. For many, this will mean the movie will fail to hold their interest early on, and they may be tempted to give up. For those that don't give up, however, they will find the story to be quite satisfying. And for those willing to give the movie a second viewing, they may be able to fill all the story gaps that they missed the first time around. Much like most Cohen brothers movies, this is one of those movies that improves after the first viewing. Also, much like other movies that improve after first viewing, this is one of those movies that makes the top ten on many film-buff's top movies list.

The following movies/stories have major similarities to City: Brazil, for its own lack of focus and its similar retro-futuristic feel (note the hyper-intelligent brain's look as well as the cyclops'); Dark City, for its similar cinematographic style; Frankenstein, for its "scientist creates something awful and tragic" theme; and Amelie, for its imaginative similarities stemming from the director in common. Terry Gilliam himself made the following comment on City of Lost Children: "the most astounding visuals of 1995, 1996, and possibly 1982." Genre: Fantasy. Verdict: 8/10.

Delicatessen

Delicatessen is hard to pin down under a specific genre label; it's a surreal black comedy, a human drama, a post-apocalyptic horror movie, a twisted thriller, a futuristic fantasy; and all in all; one of the strangest and most original films I've ever seen.

In this fantasy world, the world has been ravaged and food is now in short supply. This has therefore made food invaluable and it is being used as currency. Things are traded for with grain, corn and lentils, but not everyone can afford the luxury of food, and some have had to resort to cannibalism to continue to enjoy eating. Our scene opens at a delicatessen in an unspecified location in France, and we are treated to an absolutely delicious sequence (no pun intended) in which a man is desperately trying to hide himself in the trash can. We later find that the reason for this is that this particular delicatessen hires handymen and keeps them long enough to fatten them up, and then they are eaten by the delicatessen's butcher and the inhabitants of the apartment building in which they live. The story really gets going when an ex-clown turns up at the shop, wanting the handyman's job, which has...become available. The plot thickens when the new handyman meets, and later falls in love with, the butcher's daughter; Julie. Julie knows what goes on at the delicatessen and can't allow her new found love to meet the same fate as the others, and therefore does the only thing she can do; hire a band of vegetarian freedom fighters to save her love from becoming dinner for the butcher and his customers.

Delicatessen is directed by the team of Marc Caro (whom, I'm afraid, I am unfamiliar with) and the more well known Jean-Pierre Jeunet, director of a few lesser known modern classics, but best known for the enthusiastic 'Amelie'. The film is brought to life by a brilliant ensemble cast. Dominique Pinon (who also featured in Jeunet's Amelie, Alien 4 and City of Lost Children) takes the lead role of the clown turned handyman. His performance is both understated and magical; as he simultaneously manages to entice the viewer into his performance, and yet keeps his character in the realms of reality (a place in which this film doesn't take place). Jean-Claude Dreyfus is the real star of the show, however, as the extroverted and over the top butcher. His performance certainly isn't subdued, to say the least; and every moment that he is on screen is a delight. In a stark contrast to Dreyfus, Marie-Laure Dougnac; the young lady that plays his daughter and love interest for Pinon is very down to earth, and is the most 'normal' character in the film...although there's still room for her to be a nearly blind klutz. The rest of the ensemble comes together excellently, and not a single actor in the film performs below par or looks out of place; and there's not many films that you can say that for.

This film isn't quite like anything else I've ever seen. In fact, the only film I can think of that is similar to this is Terry Gilliam's futuristic fantasy; Brazil. The film draws it's originality from it's plot mainly, which is extremely surreal and inventive in itself, but it's not just that which makes Delicatessen one of a kind; it's all the smaller plot points. How many films do you know that feature a bullshit detector? (that is set off when the butcher tells it that "life is wonderful", no less). The way that the film looks is also wonderfully different; Delicatessen has a yellow hue, which lends it a style that is very dull and dreary; and that does the film no end of favours when you consider it's core subject material. The yellow hue also makes the film almost feel like a moving comic book, which is one of the things that gives the film it's surreal and absurd edge. I'm a big fan of atmospheric films, which is one of the main reasons why I like horror so much; and this film also has an atmosphere like no other. It's the way that the yellow-ish buildings look next to the dark skyline, and the way that the film uses darkness and smoke to make it more horrifying (see roof sequence towards the end) that gives this film the finishing touch to it's already distinct style.

The love story in the film is sweet and tender, and this very much offsets the dark overtones of the rest of the film. This is nice, as during the scenes between the clown (Pinon) and Julie (Dougnac), the film allows itself to indulge in humour that isn't dark like the rest of the film, and you get the impression that it's enjoying itself a little more. This is just another thing in a long line of great things that make Delicatessen a great movie. Another of these things is the more minor characters. I have never seen a more motley crew than the one in this film. As previously mentioned, Julie, although not entirely 'normal', is the most normal character in the film; the rest of it is populated by lunatics. There's a man with a house full of frogs, a woman that continually tries to commit suicide, a man that puts cans on his deaf mother in law so they know where she is etc. The support cast's wackiness don't add anything much to the story itself (which only really requires them to be there), but the fact that they are different and imaginative is another of the film's absurd edges, and another thing that makes this film different from everything else.

Delicatessen concentrates more on being absurd and surreal than it does in posing deep and philosophical questions. Personally, I have no problem with that, but those who do want a movie to be deep and meaningful might find the film disappointing because of that. That is not to say that the film completely lacks depth or meaning; although a moral to the story doesn't seem to present itself, the film takes it's depth from the 'what if' scenario that it presents; "if the world's food supply became too short to feed the population, would you resort to cannibalism or join the vegetarian freedom fighters?". It's a very general message; but it's definitely there.

Overall, Delicatessen is a sublime piece of cinema. You wont find imagination and inventiveness to the extent that it is shown here in most films, and that alone is reason enough to warrant this classic status. Delicatessen is everything I say it is and more; and overall the film is one of the true highlights of the 1990's. A gem.

The Bothersome Man (Danish)

Where the heck is Andreas(Trond Fausa Aurvaag), exactly? Heaven? Hell? A parallel universe?

When the bothersome man steps off the subway platform and meets an onrushing train, his next conscious moment occurs on a bus; riding solo, the newest arrival, in a dead netherworld where all the suicides go. Dressed as he was at the time of his sudden departure from the corporeal biosphere, Andreas is greeted by an official man, who processes and transports the bothersome man from the barren flatlands to a city, if the eyeballs work, is a dead ringer for the sort of urban landscapes that he once inhabited, if memory serves him right. Andreas retains the look of a sleepwalker in a trance, a man estranged from people and objects, struggling to find his bearings; at home, or rather, his assigned apartment; or at work, where the bothersome man is randomly designated as an accountant for an independent contractor. Havard(Johannes Joner), his boss, tells him, "You'll get used to it," which covers more than just crunching numbers, we suspect, in this world, same as the old world.

If life is meaningless, like French existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Satre said, the same can be said for death, as well. The subculture of office life might be heaven for one man, but it looks like hell to us, under the context that "Den Brysomme Mannen" operates on. To work in the afterlife, in essence, is to work for the rest of your life. The social intercourse among Andreas' office mates may pass as normal in the physical world, but death is a variable that creates estrangement in the viewer, as he/she now recognizes the drudgery of white-collar labor performed by white-collar laborers, who kill the hours with their inconsequential small-talk and designated jobs they perform during the course of a day like automotons, each and every day, seem irrational in its self-evident absurdity. To see daily life replicated in a speculative light, "Den Brysomme mannen" makes normal human interaction look like deadpan comedy, as quotidian life becomes a performance, which transforms Karl Marx's meaning of the word "alienation", because here, the men and women in the office, "do" identify with their labor, like actors in a play who conspire to make their fictionalized selves appear real. But the bothersome man never fully participates in the facade. He's always aware of the cracks.

From a wooden bench, Andreas witnesses the aftermath of a jumper, who impales himself on an iron fence while people on their lunch breaks walk on by, indifferent to his escaping intestines that create red splatters on the clean sidewalk. Andreas faces the same impassivity from his own co-workers after he purposely cuts off his own finger, with the hope that he'll feel the pain, on a paper slicer. He doesn't. It's just another sensation, in addition to being able to taste and smell that's lost to the bothersome man. This inability of being able to take solace in the simple pleasures, amplifies the bothersome man's need for love,where simple pleasures compensated for his loneliness in the physical world. At a dinner party, hosted by his boss, Andreas meets Anne Britt(Petonella Barker). They hit it off. He walks her home. She invites him in. They become a couple. He moves in. When they have sex, however, it's good for neither Andreas, nor Anne, who seems to get more pleasure out of interior design. Love is an abstract concept, another sensation that's unattainable in this world, but love matters to the bothersome man, so he tries again with Ingeborg(Birgette Lagen), a girl from work. "Den Brysomme mannen" deconstructs love by presenting its foundation as a series of gestures that require performances from both the man and woman. When Ingeborg doesn't elicit the same tender feelings for Andreas after his hyper-romantic gesture of leaving Anne Britt for her, this Norwegian film reveals its secrets about the prosaic, but odd city, with an open-endedness that's solvable, and offer up multiple interpretations.

Wounded by Ingeborg's apathy towards his avowal of love for her, the bothersome man wanders into the same subway station, stands at the same platform, leers at the same couple aggressively making out, and jumps. This time, he can't die. How can you die when you're already dead? Hit repeatedly by train after train, Andreas' face turns into ground beef; his body contorts in angles previously seen only seen in art. When the bothersome man realizes that love and death are out of his grasp, he seeks out the man from the club, who was willing to say what goes unsaid in this city of the walking dead. Which is: death, not life, has no meaning.

Getting to the bottom of the mystery behind Andreas' whereabouts drives the narrative, and to the filmmaker's credit, this enigma is satisfactorily addressed, in a scene that recalls Spike Jonze's "Being John Malkovich", when Andreas crawls through a tunnel in order to cross over into another world, like a newborn baby, which resembles the portal to Malkovich's brain that Craig Schwartz charges people to crawl through. Andreas' attempt to traverse the great divide presents a beguiling paradox. Since heaven and earth are literally separated by a wall, this vulnerable boundary acts as a perfect encapsulation of the atheistic belief that "heaven is a place on Earth". But at the same time, heaven is proved by the reality of a hell; the place that Andreas is sent to after being banished from the city of his destination.

Maelstrom

''Maelstrom'' is probably the first romantic drama ever narrated by a smelly dead fish. What might a dead fish have to do with love? It has something to do with the ocean whence life springs. And as it turns out, fish figure prominently in the symbolic structure of this fine French Canadian film, written and directed by Denis Villeneuve. Its protagonist, Bibi Champagne (Marie-Josée Croze), is a beautiful and successful 25-year-old businesswoman. Virtually overnight, Bibi's sleek yuppie existence unravels, and she faces an acute spiritual crisis when she has a series of personal disasters.

Commenting on her travails, the craggy-voiced fish (Pierre Lebeau), the movie's philosophical voice, periodically punctuates the soundtrack of a movie whose strategy is to surprise us by taking abrupt surreal sidetracks. At one point in the story, when a character in a restaurant complains about the toughness of her octopus, the film goes on a wild tangent as the waiter complains to the cook who in turn calls his supplier, and we follow the path the octopus took to reach her plate.

As weird as it may sound, the movie's aquatic fixation is integral to its concept. For above and beyond telling a story, ''Maelstrom'' is a meditation on the disconnection between the glossy surfaces of high-end urban existence and the life-and-death realities they camouflage. The opening scene finds Bibi undergoing an abortion. The procedure is carried out with such a cool, clinical dispassion that she doesn't see what is removed from inside her, which is taken away and immediately incinerated.

Afterward Bibi, feeling desolate, is comforted by her best friend, Claire (Stephanie Morgenstern), who has had three abortions and who advises Bibi to ''de-dramatize'' what has just happened. Bibi's composure further unravels when her brother -- who employs her in a business importing high-priced boutique items from Sumatra -- fires her for losing $200,000 in a transaction. We also learn that Bibi's mother, now dead, is a legend in the fashion world. A glossy magazine called L'Avenir (The Future) interviews Bibi and photographs her posing as her mother for a cover story.

The final blow comes when Bibi, preoccupied with her problems, strikes a pedestrian while driving and blithely leaves the scene of the accident. Later she learns from the newspaper that the victim, a Norwegian immigrant who worked as a fishmonger, has died. Guilt-stricken and terrified, she drives her car off a pier in an act that's both penance and an attempt to erase any evidence.

For all the modern anomie that ''Maelstrom'' evokes, the movie insists there is a hidden connection between things. And when Bibi meets the dead man's son, Evian (Jean-Nicolas Verreault), a handsome frogman, their anguished tango recalls the dance of Billy Bob Thornton and Halle Berry in ''Monster's Ball.''

''Maelstrom'' is a deliberately unsteady mixture of stylistic elements. Some, like the recurrent images of turbulent water foaming at the bottom of the screen, are abstract. Others, like the abortion, are clinical. The talking fish chopped up by a blood-spattered fishmonger is Dadaist, while the swooning images of sunsets over water and the love scenes are intensely romantic.

The soundtrack also varies from the Dadaist (Tom Waits growling a lyric about drowning in the ocean) to the romantic (Edvard Grieg). Not all the selections are well advised. ''Good Morning, Starshine'' from ''Hair,'' which recurs as a perky upbeat palliative, sounds annoyingly tinny and ends the movie on a shallow note.

What's sacrificed by the conceptual audacity is a sharp sense of character. Ms. Croze's Bibi never really transcends the stereotype of a yuppie cold fish (if you will), and the details of her family history remain frustratingly sketchy. But the film's iconoclastic mixture of elements is still a courageous attempt to ambush us by tearing through the surfaces of Bibi's life to conjure the gnarly essence of what lies beneath.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Violent, thrilling, musical, and comedic, Tim Burton's latest Gothic period piece is many things – and unoriginal is certainly not one of them. This eclectic blend of genres may not always produce the perfect results, but the utter bizarreness keeps the intrigue from wearing off..... before the killing begins...:-)

Based on the Broadway musical,Benjamin Barker, is a happily married father in Victorian London. But an evil perverted judge named Turpin (Alan Rickman at his oil-slick smoothest) lusts after Barker's wife. So he wrongly sentences Barker to prison, seduces and poisoningly induces Barker's wife, and takes Barker's baby daughter as his "charge," to await the day when she is old enough to marry him. Fifteen years later, Barker escapes from prison, returns to London along with a fellow sailor Anthony Hope, and adopts the persona of barber Sweeney Todd. At first, he intends only upon avenging Turpin, assuming that both his wife and daughter have been murdered/dead long ago, but he soon discovers that his daughter is still alive. He also discovers he has an other-barberly way with a razor.....

Meanwhile, the sailor, Hope discovers love at first sight with Johanna, Todd's now grown up daughter, unknown to him and now the "charge" of Judge Turpin. And as it happens, Todd's landlady (Helena Bonham Carter), an unsuccessful baker, could use (spoiler) some fresh ingredients to sell her pies: Human Meat. Yes, (chorus) Human Meat. (Spoiler complete).

As bizarre as Sweeney Todd is, it works on quite a few levels. It is literally unlike anything committed to the big screen before, with its wide array of odd imagery and fiercely vibrant performances. The fact that it is a musical is its most inspiring aspect, considering the subject matter is unbelievably dark. To blend slashing throats with melodic tunes is a feat perhaps no one but Tim Burton could pull off. The heavy contrast of singing and bloody violence is utterly singular and many thanks go to Steven Sondheim for crafting such luscious music to go with the sinister plot. That stark contrast adds to the undeniably visceral imagery, which at times becomes so outrageous that you can't help but laugh or applaud.

Those unfamiliar with Sweeney Todd's origins may be surprised to find that the majority of the film is sung. Rather than inserting musical numbers into the story, practically the whole plot is revealed through musical exchanges between the actors, and ominous lyrics foreshadow the visuals to come. Strangely, with so many songs throughout, very few carry a tune or melody that will stay with you after the credits roll. Much of the clever writing will evoke laughter at first listen, but even the more light-hearted songs rarely recall the catchy riffs of macabre musical relative The Rocky Horror Picture Show. While the tunes themselves may not be overly memorable, their delivery is, as several extremely talented actors showcase their singing abilities.

Johnny Depp is the perfect match for portraying the scheming, vengeance-obsessed barber Sweeney Todd, with his brooding presence and sullen voice. There is no better actor in the world that could portray this like Johnny Depp does. His performance is a defining one, one that goes far beyond the Jack Sparrows, Edward Scissorhands, or J.M Barries that Depp portrayed with perfection. Sweeney Todd is a man torn apart by vengeance, a man that answers only to the call of death. Depp illustrates the psychological factors of the character in subtle nuances, giving one of the greatest performances in the history of cinema. A true achievement that lives up to the excellence of the entire movie. His wild-haired accomplice Mrs. Lovett receives exquisite attention by Helena Bonham Carter and her musical numbers with Depp are easily the most impressive in the film. Sacha Baron Cohen turns in an enjoyably maniacal performance as Todd's barber rival and even the main antagonist portrayed by Alan Rickman joins in the singing. Young Ed Sanders as Toby steals his fair share of scenes as well, and the newcomer proves he can sing with the best of them.

As one could expect from an R-rated Tim Burton thriller about a demonic barber, there is plenty of bloodshed. Straight razors are the primary tool of destruction and the blood flows freely once Todd begins his vengeful killing spree. In a manner reminiscent of Tarantino's Kill Bill, the violence is so excessively brutal that one quickly becomes desensitized to the carnage, and throat slashing montages can be appreciated for their morbid humor and the eventual cannibalistic endeavors they represent. Plenty of physical humor and darkly comedic imagery do find their way into Sweeney Todd, though the story at the heart of this tragic musical is so horrific that the overall mood of the film remains grim.

I believe one needs to have an open mind and appreciation for (or better yet understanding of) musical theatre, melodrama, and old film noir/horror films and actors. This movie does not cater to the brutish. I don't mean this to sound elitist but the level of art going on here (visual, acting, music) is significant and requires participation by the audience. If you're passive you won't enjoy it.

Aside from an abundance of bleeding necks, the visuals are truly amazing. The foggy streets of London and the haunting menace of Mrs. Lovett's meat pie shop recall the eerily dark set designs of Sleepy Hollow, while the vibrant dream sequence leans toward Beetlejuice. Every character's costume also superbly matches their physique, from Lovett's Gothic dresses to Pirelli's garish garb.

Overall, the casting is flawless: Johnny Depp is dark, menacing, brooding, damaged, and coldly insane at both the loss of his wife, his deportation to Australia, and imbues a very real sense of revenge. He is well complemented by Helena Bonham-Carter's Mrs Lovall: a woman who really does know how to fail and obsess well; and Alan Rickman as Judge Turpin is lascivious, and evil. Timothy Spall gives a career best - I thought him even better here than Boys from the black Stuff, which is saying something - he weaves an intricate beadle, who knows his status depends on obsequious violence, and Sasha Baron Cohen is simply a turn to be enjoyed - and shows his very fine skill as giving credibility to pomposity.

Tim Burton loves the macabre, as well as bleak colors, and the film is so heavily desaturated that at times it appears black-and-white. At least until the red begins to flow. But this harsh color scheme does wonders for the makeup, locations and sets, for they all become more vividly alive - the performances stand out, as do the carefully planned expressions and lyrics, since color only interferes visually with characters such as Sacha Baron Cohen's flamboyant Pirelli. Additionally, the daydream sequences by Mrs. Lovett are wildly vibrant in comparison to the real world of ashen streets and neutral shadowy rooms. The movie is undeniably bloody. That's the first thing that everyone has to know. The blood is over-the-top, though, on purpose. The blood isn't supposed to gross you out, it's supposed to be a character all its own. With all of the dark hues and blacks everywhere, the blood serves as a frightening contrast with Sweeney's spiraling madness. The bright colors are so noticeable that it's no wonder the upbeat number "By the Sea" works so well; it shows viewers a world different from this one, where everything is bright and pretty and colorful. Mrs. Lovett has fallen so completely and totally in love with Sweeney that when we finally glimpse what she's thinking, it is beyond beautiful in some strange and twisted way.

More visually stunning than musically memorable, Sweeney Todd nevertheless presents an epic and ghastly tale of love and revenge in a manner unlike any before it. Bloodthirsty to an extreme, but with entertainment to match, Burton's latest should not be missed for those with an appreciation of the daringly original.

Finding Neverland

FINDING NEVERLAND simply lets Johnny Depp fly from being everybody's best friend in the extremely slick and stylish pirate Jack Sparrow into a mind-opener, writer and failed in success James M. Barrie.

Kate Winslet goes from the giggling, weird, mood-swinging Clementine from Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, into a lost but in the same time cheerful widow Sylvia L. Davies.

It's truly a beautiful little masterpiece. FINDING NEVERLAND is such charming, excellent in every way that you simply can't find anything negative about it. It's truly wonderful scenes as Depp's writer character hanging out with the family, trying to get a kite in the air is just so beautiful watching. But FINDING NEVERLAND finds it true class work in it's changes from fantasy and reality, seeing threw the eyes of a mind-unlocking Johnny Depp that sees everything else than we see in happenings. As when the Davies' family's strict grandmother points at one of the small boys, Barrie sees a hook in the old woman's hand and we can clearly see him shaping and creating the character of Captain Hook.

Threw all the beautiful scenes and truly inspiring settings, there are nice laughs put between and emotional work on the finest piece of work. Creating great settings as a small house on the county side, a elegant theater - all off course having its special place in the whole movie the picking of locations and moods are really breathtaking.

Johnny Depp does one of his best character performances ever, and with fine dialogs and fine poetic sentences threw the movie this can't do anything than be one big, charming beauty in his filmography. The whole idea of making a movie about how the writer of Peter Pan invented and started creating it, it's itself just original and great.

James Barrie being a successful writer are having dry times with his pen and paper, making disappointing plays, and with the theater owner Frohman counting 100% on him. While sitting in the park he suddenly bumps into a widow and her boys, this awakes a magic inside him and spending a summer with the family he gets new, incredible ideas and starts writing like never before. Although having problems with his wife, James Barrie realises that he has to put everything in his mind to create this play into something that would become Peter Pan.. STARS: 5/5

Edward Scissorhands

Burton's films are usually set in a world of its own and in that regard Edward Scissorhands isn't much different. However, here he shows us two different worlds. One is that of Edward's house and the other is that of the neighborhood. While the neighborhood is inhabited by 'normal' people, Burton uses his imagination with the colourful houses and the people who are sort of from the 60s or 70s era. It's a typical suburban neighborhood where men drive to work and women gossip. Edward's mansion is more coloured in black and white (sort of reflects on the idea that he's an 'unfinished' experiment) and his garden is richer in green. The background score contributes well to the screenplay and cinematography is fine.

The story is simple but sublimely told. It's a little Frankensteinish, Edward (Johnny Depp) is created by his inventor, a scientist, who dies before giving him hands(he has scissor-hands). After the death of his creator, he stays locked inside the mansion until a kind lady Peg (Dianne Wiest) decides to take care of him. She takes him home. This arouses curiosity from the neighbors. Edward tries to adjust himself to this new world and falls in love with Peg's daughter Kim (Winona Ryder). While the neighbors accept him (because of their own benefits), it does not take long for them to turn their backs against him. Edward mows their garden, cuts their trees in marvelous shapes of animals and humans, cuts their hair among so many other things that attract the neighbors, but soon he faces difficult obstacles where these people turn against him and things only get so much worse that even Peg's and Kim's efforts to save him hardly seem to succeed...

Burton tells this wonderful story beautifully. The characters are indeed very well-written and the climax is moving. The film is a little weird, especially with the combination of the dark humour, romance, drama and action set in the 'real' world but it works well. The film is said to be inspired by a fictional childhood hero of Burton who had scissor-hands. Clearly he's put a lot of heart into it. I just saw the film recently and it clearly has stood the test of time and one movie that will stay for a long time.

Depp in the title role is wonderfully outstanding. I can't imagine anyone else play the part. It was made for him as he did full justice to the character and immortalized it. Wiest is completely different from her other roles and only proves what a versatile actress she is. Ryder is charming and adequate.

To conclude, this is a simple, yet beautiful story of an outsider who is initially accepted by all, just to be shunned. While the people accept him for their own benefit they refuse to see his wonderful heart and eventually smash it. I know I'm using the world wonderful too often but that's the adjective that best describes 'Edward Scissorhands'.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

"Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" is a twisted, outlandish venture into the mind of a warped junkie, a reporter who is traveling to Nevada in order to cover a Hells Angels motorcycle race, along with his Samoan attorney Dr. Gonzo (Benicio Del Toro, who gained forty pounds for his role). "We were somewhere around Barstow when the drugs began to take hold," is the line that opens the movie in an expeditious manner, as a red convertible roars from right to left, in the direction of Las Vegas. The vehicle's trunk is packed with an abundance of deadly drugs. "We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, a whole galaxy of multicolored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers. Also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, two dozen amyls."

The narrator of the story is Raoul Duke (played by Johnny Depp), a balding, stumbling shell of a man, constantly smoking or inhaling drugs, his body overloaded with deadly substances. He is in a permanent daze throughout the entire film, constantly consuming drugs every time the camera pans onto him. He is also the reporter, the main character of the film, and he is in such a daze that after the motorcycle race is over, he's not even sure who has won. So sitting cramped in his increasingly trashed hotel apartment, he begins clacking away mumbo-jumbo on his typewriter, desperately trying to make sense of the seemingly frenzied world surrounding him.

The year is 1971, the beginning of the after-effects of the frivolous sixties. Raoul still seems to think that he is living in the past decade. He explains that his carefree ways were out of place for such an area as Las Vegas, and in one of the funniest scenes in the entire movie, he visits a conference detailing the dangers of substance abuse, and inhales cocaine throughout the seminar (led by the late Michael Jeter).

The movie is based on the semi-autobiographical memoirs of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, who traveled to Las Vegas in 1971 with an overweight "Samoan lawyer" named Oscar Zeta Acosta. According to Thompson's novel, "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," originally published at the end of the decade, they broke many laws and were essentially high on various dangerous substances the entire time. In his novel, Thompson used the character Raoul Duke as a relation to his own past, and the pair's psychedelic weekend as a metaphor for the Lost America. After the sixties, during the Vietnam War, Americans were deeply confused, and turned to many dangerous substances for answers. Some critics claim that "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" glamorizes drugs. If anything, it demonizes them (sometimes quite literally), and the constant drug use is merely present to account for the duo's wacky behavior.

That's not to say that "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" is a harmless film. Under the wrong circumstances, it could be misunderstood, which is why it was nearly slapped with an X-rating by the MPAA, and -- along with the book -- caused outrage when it was released in 1998, alongside the utter disaster "Godzilla."

Depp is the reason the film's narration succeeds as well as it does -- a lesser actor might come across as annoying. Depp seems to be channeling the physical freedom of Steve Martin and the slurred speech patterns of Thompson himself -- although he was given ample time to pick up on Thompson's mannerisms, since they spent much time together prior to shooting and throughout the filming process.

But what is essentially so fascinating about "Fear and Loathing" is its blazing style and blatant uniqueness. Brought to the screen by Terry Gilliam ("Monty Python and the Holy Grail," "Brazil"), one can only expect the movie to be strange, but it is severely distorted to the point of insanity. What is even more intriguing is Gilliam's use of his camera, cinematography and backgrounds -- the camera essentially takes on the role of a third person, as it is constantly moving, positioned at awkward angles against harsh, dizzying backdrops, wallpapers and carpets. The overall effect of the movie is the equivalent of getting high -- only this probably isn't as dangerous. Probably.

In some ways, "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" is an utter mess of a movie -- pointless, sick, but yet it is also occasionally hilarious, and I found myself very entertained. I am not usually a fan of these sorts of movies, which only helps account for my extreme surprise in finding that I not only enjoyed "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," but found it to be an important art house movie -- bizarre, mystifying, strange, bewildering. It is as if Fellini directed a Cheech and Chong movie. It is an experience unlike any other, and although I can completely understand the negative reviews it received upon its release years ago, I find myself somewhere in between the haters and the die-hard cult fans. The film was released on a Criterion DVD last year; a sign that despite its infamous background it actually has a fairly strong legion of fans. In some ways the movie is as confused and wandering as its narrator. It's somewhat pointless, but incidentally, I think that is the point. 

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Author: EdBloom from Belgium

I have seen Charlie & The Chocolate Factory last night and though I usually don't care very much in giving my opinion, the journey M. Burton and his team made me cross deserves an homage. Especially with all that criticism rising around the film before it has been released.

I have been a Tim Burton fan for more than a decade now; I grew up with his films. But what I have been through yesterday his really unique. I actually never thought he would offer us such a film one day. Fans of his first period, with all the lonely and desperate characters won't like it for sure. Since Mars Attacks !, and more specifically since Big Fish, Burton decided to tell things differently. His vision of the world slightly changed in every of his films : now, the rejected freak comes down to the world and stays. A world that remains frightening and weird even thought we call it "reality" but a world worth living in. And that's what Charlie & The Chocolate Factory is all about… It all begins with a main title sequence that may be one of the main weaknesses of the film. The sequence is very entertaining and visually ambitious but they decided to go with CGI and it looks like it was a decision they made in last minute. Since the film was proudly made with "real" sets, "real" Oompas Loompas, "real" squirrels, the main title looks inappropriate. It's not that important but it's a Tim Burton film and we know how much he usually works on his main title. Hopefully, Danny Elfman is there with a crazy mix of the Edward Scissorhands and Spider-Man (the music when the title of the film appears gave me shivers), a true musical roller-coaster that gives a hint on what his score will sound like through the film.

After that, it's just emotions. All kinds of them: laughs (many – the audience laughed almost every thirty seconds), tears of joy (we all know Charlie's gonna find that ticket but when he does, you just can't refrain your heart to beat faster), mercy (the way Burton depicts the social misery of the Bucket's family is really touching), amazement (the Wonka Factory and its many rooms is true wonder, one the most achieved design Burton ever offered us) and many mores. Very much like the book, even though it seems simple and childish, you would like to stop for a second to collect those feelings and try to analyze them but you don't have the time. It just never stops (I realize it might be a flaw for some people in fact). Burton never has been so generous in terms of human warmness.

Johnny Depp proposes another inventive and completely wacky interpretation here. I won't compare with Gene Wilder since I don't know the first film very well (pretty unknown flick here in Europe) and those comparisons should stop anyway. Depp makes of Wonka a tormented and unadapted character who doesn't know much about common courtesy and doesn't really care anyway. He built up his own universe in response to his authoritarian father and he's pretty proud of it. He just doesn't want those "weird" (a word he likes – you've all seen the TV spots) and boring parents with their despicable children to ruin what is life is based on. Yet… So Depp's Wonka is actually very moving and pathetic in his attempts to entertain his visitors. As Burton does everything he can to make you hate Augustus, Vercua, Violet and Mike at the moment you first see them, you get instantly closer to Wonka when you noticed he feels the same. In addition to that, John August's vision of Wonka's past (including an always perfect cameo by Christopher Lee) offers the character a real depth you didn't expect.

Danny Elfman is also one of the main attractions of the film. While his score is already classic Burton/Elfman work with some interesting experiments (the main themes are splendid), the songs he wrote for the Oompas Loompas are just so funny. Hugh laughs in the audience for some musical choices. Those songs don't intend to stay with you for months (it would have been hard as they're based on Dahl's lyrics that doesn't allow Broadway impulses), they're just off-beat numbers playing with many references in so many styles. Oingo Boingo fans have to buy the soundtrack when it'll come out, it'll bring them back 15 years ago.

What can I tell you more ? McDowell's sets are amazing, Pescucci's work is impressive as well as Rousselot's beautiful cinematography. Some Oscar Nominations should fall here.

As for the ending, without revealing it, August's additions are really touching and fit perfectly to Burton's new approach. Even though the final shot tempers the "family" theme that he developed through the film (it's still Burton, not Disney), Burton makes you feel good because he feels good (and what I'm writing here will ring a bell when you'll see the movie). I don't know for you but after so many distressed and pessimistic films, it really moved to see that he found a certain peace. Charlie and The Chocolate Factory is a step forward in the direction he gave to his career with Big Fish. He lost his father, he became one, he's getting older and all those questions and doubts are expressed in many important and very complex images and scenes he imagined for the film. That's why I could call this film the "Edward Scissorhands" of his new period. Those films are very different but gave me both some very essential emotions.

Arizona Dream

Some movies only work if we let ourselves carry away by them. They present a surrealistic imagination world that comes from the mind of their creators. They are hard to watch, especially when they mix real characters that live their lives sometimes awaken, or inside one big dream or their own dreams.

Axel Blackmar (Johnny Depp) is a dreamer, and an unusual example of personal choices. His parents died and he went to New York, to work with fish. He could have sold cars with his uncle Leo (Jerry Lewis), but he's there, talking with that monotonous voice about what he does. Maybe it was a simple dream, where an Eskimo catches a fish with two eyes on the same side, and tells his kids to go out with their dog so he and his wife can…And the kid with the dog allow to see an orange balloon that seems to go from Alaska to New York, where Alex sleeps in a truck. "Wake up, Columbus", the words of his mother and Axel's hope to find something in the land already discovered by that man.

Alongside fish flying through the air, we join Axel to be the best man of his uncle's wedding. With his friend Paul Leger (Vincent Gallo), the untiring chats go from movies to philosophies about cakes, pies and bananas. Paul is an actor: "I'm having a great performance on Friday", he says. "It's an audition", Axel says to humiliate him. The truth is that it's not even an audition. This stuff lived by Axel is a story for us, but is a personal rediscovering and rethought of decisions in life for the character. When he sees Elaine (Faye Dunaway) he feels something strong, but doesn't know how to call it. Days later he becomes the lover of a woman decades older than him. Elaine's daughter, Grace (Lili Taylor) is also there, and it doesn't goes long until Axel finds himself in a crossroad between the heart of two women, that as he describes them, are "too similar and big to be in the same world".

David Atkin's story and screenplay comes plagued of phrases that could come out of a lunatic's mouth, but they fit in the film's context and twist your head at maximum. "I've got to climb…It's a long way to the moon"; "I'm gonna live forever until I become a turtle…They have infinite lives", besides scenes of well known movies in crucial moments. And what music (Goran Bregovic)! And what editing (Andrija Zafranovic)! And what cinematography (Vilko Filac)! And what director! Known for his originality, recognized director Emir Kusturica puts his own signature to his movie, collaborating in the story he must have dreamed a little to; giving life to the dream with his flying camera, full of unexpected turns and in love of its surroundings. What he achieves is greater words, although not everybody could understand it, and, for that matter, appreciate it.

And his actors…Jerry Lewis in a total comprehension of his character, and so involved in his work that you wouldn't believe it. So incredibly likable in one of those roles we never give much importance to. Faye Dunaway…Wow! She got to work with some of these actors later, but here, as an old woman in character and, with respect, in person, she maintains that virtue of creating uniqueness, with her laughs, smiles and way of saying things. Lili Taylor was the most interesting character here. The silent daughter that could be crazy but no one can really tell. With imagination and freedom, Taylor makes her character believable and not as overacted as it might be. Vincent Gallo, who I respect mostly as a director and as an actor that does what he wants, the ability he has had to choose his roles is visible here again; as he shines without lights to help him. A wonderful performance his fans shouldn't miss.

But Depp…How can I explain? I've said it a lot, surely, but I will repeat it. He's like a magician, but not with the cards and the hat and the tricks. He is with his face, his looks, his way of talking, his perfection of movement…But it's not really something technical: "in the acting world, Johnny Depp is a magician". I'm sure he still has plenty of that for us, but here is where he let us know first.

In one scene, Vincent Gallo's character Paul, an actor, requests that no one touches his face, because it's important. "Do you think they touch Brando's face? Do you think they touch Pacino's, De Niro's? Do you think they touch Johnny Depp's face? I don't know then, but not know; and if they did before, they shouldn't have. 

Corpse Bride

Don't let the creepy title of this animated, musical tale throw you off. In the tradition of other excellent, animated features of recent years, The Corpse Bride will surely rank as one of the best. Granted, this kind of film may not be for all tastes, but if you can get past the title and are game for a wondrous, haunting world of fantasy and love, then this is your meal ticket.

Victor and his parents meet Victoria and her family to attend a wedding rehearsal. Unbeknownst to Victor's family, it seems Victoria's parents are broke and desperately need the marriage to secure their future. Yet, marriage is new to the nervous Victor, and when he gets jittery at the church, he runs off and into the woods to collect his thoughts. There, he jokingly recites his wedding vows and slips his wedding band on a finger shaped piece of what appears to be wood. The next thing he knows, the wooden finger is a real finger belonging to a former bride, and she has sprung 'alive' to his offer of marriage. As Victor reels in horror and confusion at his 'corpse bride', he is whisked away to another world of people who have died. While the corpse bride is partly decomposed, she retains much of her former beauty. Yet others in this strange land are mere skeletons and rotted flesh. It turns out that the corpse bride was to be married, but her groom had evil plans for her. She has been waiting for her true love ever since her demise. Meanwhile, Victoria's parents are approached by a mysterious, handsome suitor who wants to marry Victoria. Victor must make a fateful decision and choose between the two brides even as the dead descend on the land of the living for a wedding ceremony like none other. One groom and two brides-what to do? This is Tim Burton's latest foray into stop motion animation, and he and Mike Johnson direct with economy from a relatively simple screenplay by John August, Pamela Pettler, and Caroline Thompson. The characters, especially Victor and the corpse bride, are well etched and create an emotional bond with the audience. Although we want Victor to marry his love Victoria, we grow to feel sympathy and attachment to the corpse bride as well. As for the images of the dead, Burton and company do a delightful job of making what, on the outset, could be grotesque and turning them into energized, playful souls. There is a terrific Peter Lorre homage with a worm who keeps popping in and out of the bride's eye socket. After a short time, the skeletal limbs and discolored dead no longer seem frightening or gross. Ironically the most colorful sequences involve the world of the dead while the living are painted in austere, lifeless mutes of gray.

Much of the production team are veterans of other Burton films. Longtime collaborator Danny Elfman again provides an atmospheric score and a handful of nifty, little songs to move things along. Even the voices of the principals are Burton alumni, Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter (Burton's significant other). Give Depp credit for voicing a British sounding character convincingly while others like Emily Watson, Albert Finney, Christopher Lee and Tracey Ullman, to name a few, are quite effective at bringing their figures to life. It's a testament to Burton's imaginative appeal that twice the usual number of major acting talents contributed to this work.

For all those who loved Burton's earlier produced efforts, The Nightmare Before Christmas (whose ghoulish nature is quite similar) and James and the Giant Peach, this is a worthy followup. The animation itself is virtually seamless, and the characters and figures move as in real life. It is a far cry from the Rankin-Bass Christmas specials of the 1960's. The set designs and costumes are very much Gothic in style. It seems that Burton is drawing from his own films or is perpetuating his influences as evidenced in his previous films like Beetlejuice, Batman, and Edward Scissorhands particularly in his obsession with the good and evil in man. It also delves into the perception of life versus death. Who is really alive and who acts like the nonliving? It is evident that the true antecedent of The Corpse Bride is Burton's own version of Washington Irving's Sleepy Hollow with a nod toward Dickens (with its contrast in class distinction and its unsavory characters), especially the Miss Havisham character in Great Expectations.

The Corpse Bride marks a continuing peak in the current revival of animated feature films which was signaled by Toy Story a decade earlier and has been raised to new heights with such recent triumphs as Shrek and Finding Nemo. The final shot is a wondrous, memorable end that recalls the transformation scene in Disney's classic, Beauty and the Beast. In fact, so good is its animation and technique that it is easy to forgive any shortcomings in what is basically a one act, one note story albeit told with sincerity. With just a bit more pathos and storyline, Burton's team would have had an instant classic. It's a near miss, but its status as the best animated film of the year is secure. 

The Brave

This is an altogether creepy replication of the inner states of mind that perpetuate themselves in class society. The notion that one should submit to all sorts of violent and humiliating forms of inner degradation which rob you of your life in order to support your family is experienced, in conventional society, as "the reality principle". The vulgar, self-indulgent and pointless, political, power-trip sadism of the bosses -- who are significantly, in this movie, decadent and repulsive, old, rich white men -- is reproduced with force. But then, it's a familiar scene to anyone familiar with certain religious doctrines: the father gives the son the power to do a miracle or two during his last days; but demands the ultimate sacrifice to pay for the "sins" of humanity, this time, not on a cross; but a medieval appearing torture chair, looking very much like a tool from some forgotten Inquisition. Indeed, the seller must pay the price of the sale, even it that seller is a miserable wage-slave trying to create a little temporary happiness in a garbage strewn world, gone to the dogs.

The problem with this movie is that it makes you feel more than a bit ill inside and out. You know, at some level, that a parent's sacrificial lamb-like suicide for their child will not help to give their kids a life but will emotionally destroy the next generation and on ad infinitum, by leaving most of humanity with internal psychological scar and legacy which is masochism.

Depp plays a Native American in the movie, a brave so to speak. And, he does have courage. He faces death at the hands of his employer. But, in this reviewer's opinion, this brave should have seen a better ending--with the death of the employer, not the implied death of the wage-slave; for in taking that path, a brave only ensures that the poor will always be with us. 

Dead Man

Heading towards a metalworks factory at the edge of the known universe, a pristine, young accountant named William Blake steps into the ungodly, mechanical hell that is the town of Machine. And so begins this man's descent into purgatory...in the wrong place, at a point where time itself is nonexistent.

Blake arrives in Machine after a demented, tireless train ride through what may be his own self. Spanning the beauty of epic horizons and dense forests, yet ending in the bleak misery of the barren desert, we meet this out-of-place traveler in a tiring, strange situation. His frailty is evident: alone, without a living heir, struggling to make his way amidst the freaks and grim destination that awaits. As expected, the town itself begs no welcome, as the malevolent rumors prove true, and leave Blake face to face with the dusty spines of inexorable destiny. In more ways than one, the Wild West awaits...

From this point on, Blake embarks on his surrealistic journey into nothingness, as he becomes a marked man running from nearly everyone and everything. Trusting in a Native friend (appropriately named `Nobody'), the descent into Blake's rejection is juxtaposed with the realities of a truly inescapable destiny. As such, the notions of ill fate and bad luck are separately defined alongside each other. Soon enough, however, Blake learns to cope with the road to ruin, and from his relationship with Nobody, he begins to transform into the gunslinging poet he never was.

In these aspects - the premise, the cinematic device, and the endless attention to narrative and metaphoric detail - the film is simply brilliant. Watching Johnny Depp's character transformation amidst Jim Jarmusch's artistic direction of both beauty and brutality is simply exceptional, despite any problems the film may contain. A feeling of purgatorial confinement is truly achieved as humor is mixed with suspense, and uneasiness blends with inevitability. This is definitely one of the few movies that strangely seizes the disposition, toying with it until sufficiently queasy.

Nevertheless, while the story, acting, and cinematic composition of the film are excellent, certain directorial choices do prevent it from achieving perfection. The primary problem concerns the dreamlike quality interspersed through several drawn-out fades: while effective, they are overused, and only serve to impair the flow of the film and it's intended message. Another problem is the tempo of the action: the characters, while quick to quip and raise their weapons, engage in gunfights at the speed of snails. When a shot is fired, the attacker simply stands in place, only to be killed by the target he missed. This particular criticism can lend itself to the film as a whole, as well. In other words, had the entire pace of the film been quickened, perhaps Jarmusch's voyage into the depths of doom and despair may have been more effective. Lastly, as in many independent films, superfluous `art film' shots and indie flavor over-season the picture simply to separate it from big-studio Hollywood...though as the film progresses, these moments become less apparent.

Overall, this film is one to be seen by anyone who enjoys a creative story with TONS of review value. Several notable faces make their way through the screen (Gabriel Bryne, Robert Mitchum, Crispin Glover, Iggy Pop, and more), and the dirty, electric twang of Neil Young's guitar fills the gaps with a dark, mechanical, Southwestern gloom.

Enter the town of Machine, and you'll be processed as well. Just watch out for snags along the trail - they make the journey a bit annoying, and certainly longer than what is warranted by the reaches of the attention span...or simply the principles of artistic efficiency. 

Secret Window

This is based on the Stephen King short story called "Secret Window, Secret Garden". It is about Mort Rainey, a mystery writer who had recently divorced his wife because she has cheated on him. He is struggling with the loss and lives in a cabin on lake with his beloved dog. The movie begins with him taking a nap (he does that a lot in this movie) when he hears a knock on the door, at the door there is a man blaming him of plagiarism. He soon finds out that this man,John Shooter, is very serious about the story situation, he find s his beloved dog dead, along with a few other people. Who is this John Shooter? Does he even exist? Is Mort just plain crazy? Find the answer to all of these questions in this drama/thriller. The violence in this film is scarce but pretty graphic. The language is constant, but since it is PG-13 there is only one use of the F-word, with many used of the S-word. The sexual content is the basis of the movie. Overall i love this movie and recommend it to anyone, though some may find it boring.

IMDB

Secret Window

"Secret Window" is another one of those eerie thrillers where danger lurks within the shadows. We can almost feel it, and so can the hero, as he walks through his house, armed with a weapon, ready to defend himself at all costs. He hears a noise from somewhere behind him, spins around, and suddenly realizes it was just his imagination. He sighs, puts down the weapon, turns around, and BOO! There's the bad guy, who has somehow managed to enter the locked home and avoid being detected. What if, I wonder, one of these times, the bad guy was seen as he entered? What if the Fisherman from "I Know What You Did Last Summer" had been spotted, and confronted, by one of the teenagers? What if Norman Bates' "Mother" had been exposed from the start? Then there presumably would be no movie, of course.

Although we know where "Secret Window" is headed quite early on, David Koepp (writer of "Panic Room" and director of the well-made "Stir of Echoes") manages to sustain the audience's interest through a series of suspenseful camera shots. Some are inventive, while others are merely fun to watch because we can guess where Koepp got his inspiration.

Mort Rainey (Johnny Depp) is a successful author who lives up north with his beloved dog and a laptop. He apparently abandons his social life, never gets a haircut, and wears quite silly-looking glasses. He has a sarcastic personality and presumably does not get along very well with the local residents, who generally keep to themselves anyway.

Mort's life is changed forever when a strange man named John Shooter (John Turturro) shows up at his doorstep claiming that Mort has "stolen" his story. Mort is handed a dirty manuscript. Within the pages are passages literally identical to those from Mort's own book, "Secret Window," published in 1994, three years before John claims he wrote his. "Secret Window," the novel, is about a man whose wife cheats on him. Fueled by rage, the fictional character murders his own wife and buries her in the "secret garden" located outside of the "secret window" of their home.

It is said that art imitates life, and through a series of flashbacks we learn that Mort's novel bears an eerie similarity to his own problems -- "six months ago" his wife (Maria Bello) had an affair with Ted (Timothy Hutton). Mort assumes that John Shooter has some sort of connection to his past, and hires a detective (Charles S. Dutton) to find the mysterious man, who always seems to appear out of nowhere when Mort is alone.

Depp's performance is the highlight of the film -- if Depp is imitating Stephen King (the author of the short story "Secret Window" is based on), he succeeds. Barely recognizable hidden underneath a layer of geeky clothing and a generally disheveled appearance, Depp once again proves that he can tackle any sort of role as an actor -- from a scared teenager who has to stay up ("A Nightmare on Elm Street") to a Hunter S. Thompson lookalike ("Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas").

Koepp, who wrote the screenplay for the film, realizes that the key to the story is Depp's performance wisely allows his primary actor to let loose. Meanwhile the co-stars all deliver fine, convincing performances and although the grand finale is a bit of a let-down, and terribly predictable, the movie's style is interesting. "Secret Window" is better than most in its genre, although by no means is it a masterpiece of any sort. Just an enjoyable Friday/Saturday night matinée, and worthy of recommendation if you're not looking for anything special.

I could criticize the "twist" of the movie and say that it has become one of the most overused solutions to Hollywood film thriller/mysteries of the past decade, but I won't spoil it, and let you decide for yourself whether it does the story justice. 

Sleepy Hollow

Tim Burton is just about as good as they get in the movie business when it comes to creating an atmospheric world to inhabit specific characters. "Sleepy Hollow" is the perfect kind of movie for his directional Midas touch; it resembles the best of Burton in every way. In the film, an adaptation based on a story by Washington Irving called The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, he captures the slumbering, creepy village of Sleepy Hollow with vivid details and imaginative description. The way everything is presented, the trees look like something out of a fairy tale and the scenery represents deception in a mysterious wonderland, is what makes this production one of the years most captivating and magical film experiences.

Some of the visual credit should also be given to the film's Cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki, and the credited production designer, Rick Heinrichs. These elements contribute a great deal of success to Burton's masterpiece. Both the design and Cinematography are some of the best seen all year, and deserve a hard earned Oscar Nomination. They make the film intriguing and visually stimulating. 

The film takes place in the late 1700's, in New York. Constable Ichabod Crane, a timid and but smart man played by Johnny Depp, is assigned to investigate a series of grizzly murders in a nearby town called Sleepy Hollow. He's rather concerned about his latest task, however, due to the content of the killings. The victim's heads have been sliced, in one clean sweep, straight from their bodies. He accepts his duties, and travels by horse and carriage to the isolated village. 

Once Ichabod arrives, the locals, including Lady Van Tassel (Miranda Richardson), Baltus Van Tassel (Michael Gambon), Brom Van Brunt (Casper Van Dien), and Reverend Steenwyck (Jeffrey Jones), greet him with eagerness. They explain the legend of the headless horseman, who is supposedly causing the murders in their town. At first he is skeptical. Then, after witnessing a victim losing their head personally, he arrives at the conclusion that a headless horseman is responsible for the tragic catastrophes accruing. Ichabod soon meets Katrina Van Tassel, an innocent looking, self spoken young woman who may have some advice, as well as several secrets of her own.

The Headless horseman is a perfect portrayed villain for "Sleepy Hollow." He is brute, oversized, and roughly textured with outwear. The actor who brings him to life when his head is on is perfect for the role; Christopher Walken. For some odd reason, however, popular film critic Roger Ebert reluctantly refused to tell his readers the name of the actor, thinking it would give something away. Well, I am sorry, Mr. Ebert, but it isn't that hard to find this information elsewhere. The filmmakers are not trying to hold Walken as a secret. Stating he stars as the headed horseman gives nothing away. One must see his performance and make up for themselves to even imagine what material the film's bad guy brings forth.

Tim Burton's direction is focused and wonderfully observant here. The murder sequences are gory and violent, but never way over the top. Burton never losses sight of his main characters, has a good idea about what he wants to place in film, and the special effects do not distract his ability to do so. He has a knack for allowing an audience to become involved with his pictures. We must think for ourselves, figuring out nuggets of the plot on our own, without the projectors help. He has demonstrated these techniques before in such films as "Edward Scissorhands," "The Nightmare Before Christmas," and even the best Batman film yet, "Batman Returns." 

Johnny Depp offers an Oscar worthy performance as Ichabod Crane. He brings the squeamish role to life effortlessly with striking details and perfect form. He is flawlessly cast, as well as Christina Ricci, who also acts with style and poignancy. Compliments also go out to splendid costuming the actors are permitted to wear. 

Although "Sleepy Hollow" offers lots of creepy impressions, the film is far from being very scary. Some moments do generate some minor thrills, but for the most part, the production is not as terrifying as it could have been. Much of it lacks momentum and build-up for the dozen or so graphic beheadings that take place. Burton could have easily loaded his picture with bombarding amounts of shock value, suspense, and tension filled fright, but instead goes for all out violence, plot, and mystery. Not that this effects the overall production. This is more of an atmospheric movie than a scream feast. The atmosphere is certainly above the average. 

The conclusion of "Sleepy Hollow" works in a bizarre, but unpredictable fashion. The climax occurs unexpectedly and excitingly, with much surprise and special effects. The film's foreshadowing is effective, but regardless of how experienced of a filmgoer you are, this is one ending that is not meant to be figured out before it takes place. It is one of the preferred closings I've seen in a while. Despite a few personal objections, "Sleepy Hollow" is a brilliantly crafted work of art--one of the years better films.