Spider

From the opening frames of the credits, the church hymn, the Rorschach prints and the measured and precise pacing of them, we are entering a world of a severely disengaged man, who has had the spectre of schizophrenia as his constant companion, both in his waking and sleeping hours. The mumblings and rememberances of Dennis Clegg (Ralph Fiennes)combine to make for a journey down Memory Lane that is unlike any that rational, thinking people would care to take, let alone inhabit and from which there is very little chance of escape.
Fiennes spends the length of the film attempting to piece together bits and pieces of times past in his childhood, that may or may not have happened. The prize in this herculanean effort is not so much to discover the unseemly goings on of his father, but rather seeking a discourse into the inner workings of Clegg's mind and what it potentially holds and abandons at will.
Dennis Clegg has been released into the care of a matron (Lynn Regrave) in a halfway house in a decaying, dying section of London, that has become the home, heart and soul for others of his ilk; the mentally disabled, discharged from the asylum, but not quite ready for habitation in the outside world at large. His lodgings represent the underbelly of a netherworld that caters to no one and where rehabilitation is a foreign word,absent from the vocabulary of those in charge.
Redgrave plays Mrs. Wilkinson, the spawn of Nurse Ratchet, with a demeanor as cold as the grave and as uncaring as any you are likely to see. Hers is a job, nothing more, nothing less; an automaton in the flesh. John Neville (teamed again with Fiennes. He was in "Sunshine.") as Terrance,another resident of the house, has etched a character who sums up the medicated and serene patient seen as a non-threat to the establishment, but who attempts to warn Clegg of the "queenly" attitudes of Wilkinson and the powers she holds. This British character actor's small part in this film is a gem deserving of recognition.
Every movement that Clegg makes is guaranteed to bear witness to a recollection and to focus on events as perceived in his ever crumbling mind. Once his journey into neverland begins, we are brought along ever so slowly so that we capture these moments precisely and without seeing error. We learn that his mother, as played by Miranda Richardson, had nicknamed him "Spider" and it is through his newly gained name that his mannerisms take on the skin of the animal. Each newly remembered facet of his world is honed on the impressions of a spider web -- the string, broken glass, the jigsaw puzzle, the string game he plays at the kitchen table -- spiraling and spinning the child and the man into its deadly web and further from reality as we know it.
Richardson portrays three multi-faceted characters in this film, three spirits, and with each one she sheds a skin and grows another, entirely different in bearing and manner. It is a tour de force performance. Gabriel Bryne as Bill Clegg is dark and daunting, shown as a family man bored and tired with the mundance existance that is his life. Or is he?
The performance of Bradley Hall as the young Spider is eerie and precisely on the money. You can feel a kindred spirit between his child Spider and the adult that he is to become in Ralph Fiennes.
The best has been saved for last and that honour belongs to Ralph Fiennes. His Spider is haunted and haunting, gritty and realistic. This crumbling vestige of a man has been finely honed and not once did I think that I was watching a "performance" but rather as true a representation of a schizophrenic as one is able to command. It is not a glamour role or a safe role, not a trace of "pretty boy" about it and thank god, none attempting to project itself from the proceedings! Fiennes, who is known for the research he puts into his roles, has scored all aces with this one.
Another added plus is that Hollywood has not managed to ruin a good thing -- a film that truly makes one THINK about what they have just seen. I cannot help but put another role as a schizophrenic into play -- that of Russell Crowe in "A Beautiful Mind." When you see these two films and attempt to add the similarities, about the only one that comes to mind IS the fact that schizophrenics are being represented and nothing more. Fiennes has left, for all intents and purposes, Crowe's portrayal in the dust, and if Hollywood has any guts come Oscar nomination time, they will credit a true acting triumph, rather than the orchestrated ones that usually win because of huge studio mounted pushes. "Spider" is the little film that could, did and should.
"Spider" is not an easy film to watch, but then seeing madness never is. There are those who will be turned off by it, or perhaps momentarily subjected to moments of quiet. Then again, others will cheer a peformance that is worthy of the accolade, "a job very well done indeed! BRAVO!" Cronenberg, as director, has launched a film that is as subdued and unassuming as a breath of air as it brushes past a cheek. The hollow streets, the absence of crowds and the delicate renderings of cast and crew alike, have conveyed a dream or as some would insist, a nightmare and forsaken a Hollywood beginning, middle and end.
I sincerely hope that "Spider" is not lost in the shuffle of films that will spill forth over the course of the spring, or be considered as "too arthouse" to warrant consideration by other than those who know absolute talent when it is put in front of them. This film is not "entertainment" per se, and that would be the wrong word to use. Rather, eye opening and thought provoking would be a more apt description. It's a step on the edge of the abyss and the eventual and catastrophic conclusion that must become Spider's reality.
It is minimalist and daring and I can't say strongly enough how much this ensemble cast has brought forth for our inspection. See this film and be amazed at it in all its consummate glory!

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.