Showing posts with label Jean Dujardin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jean Dujardin. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

The Wolf of Wall Street



Director: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jonah Hill, Margot Robbie, Matthew McConaughey, Kyle Chandler, Rob Reiner, Jon Bernthal, Jon Favreau, Jean Dujardin, Cristin Milioti, Christine Ebersole, Shea Whigham, Jake Hoffman, Joanna Lumley, Spike Jonze, Ethan Suplee
Running Time: 180 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)
 
You know a film did something right when the discussions, arguments, and controversy surrounding it completely take over, deeming the director's motivations and intent for the project almost irrelevant. But I'll be honest. I didn't think Scorsese had it in him. I didn't think that at age 71 he'd still be able to make a film that's ignited as much controversy and debate as The Wolf of Wall Street already has, or feel as timely and pertinent to the world we live in now. And isn't that what all movies should do? Get us talking. Of course, this could be accomplished and the film still be terrible. It's what many believe of the similarly themed Spring Breakers, with which this would make an interesting, if exhausting, double feature. But the real evidence backing it up is on the screen.

It's not Scorsese's job to "punish" Wall Street crook Jordan Belfort or hold our hands and tell us what he and his cohorts did was wrong. Anyone needing guidance or reassurance in determining their actions are deplorable would likely require help beyond what Scorsese can offer. But that doesn't mean those actions and these characters can't be entertaining as hell when it's presented as a dark, twisted tragicomedy of wretched excess. We're meant to laugh at their idiocy, or not laugh at it, because the ball's in our court. It's a satire, but an unusually savvy one that manages to be both hilarious and horrifying in equal measure.

It's 1987 when young, wet behind the ears Queens native Jordan Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio) takes a job as a gopher at a prestigious Wall Street brokerage firm before passing the Series 7 and earning his broker's license. When "Black Monday" hits he goes to work for a dumpy Long Island boiler room that specializes in penny stocks, using his master pitching skills to net a fortune and eventually strike out on his own with new friend Donnie Azoff (Jonah Hill) and a ragtag group of local marijuana dealers. Jordan quickly polishes them up, transforming the newly christened Stratton Oakmont into a major industry force, reeling in millions. Then comes cocaine, quaaludes, sex, strippers, and a descent into hedonism that would make it easy to mistake the firm for a 24-7 orgy. He soon leaves his hairdresser wife (Cristin Milioti) for former model Naomi (Margot Robbie) and begins a rocky marriage, but the firm's illegal practices and suspected securities fraud catch the eye of FBI agent Patrick Denham (Kyle Chandler), who makes it his number one priority to bring Jordan down.

Jordan started by screwing over the poor, then moved on to screwing the rich, and then before all was said and done, he eventually screwed himself and got what was coming to him. Well, not really. And that's the big bone of contention and controversy within the film that never really leaves our minds as we're watching, despite it being entirely faithful to the true story detailed in Belfort's memoir.  From the first frame, Scorsese takes us deep into this world and forces us to hang out with these people and attempt to understand their behavior, as impossible as that seems. There's great use of narration and breaking the third wall right away as Belfort addresses the camera and rattles off all the money he's made and the drugs he had to take just to make it through each day. With his confident, charismatic swagger, he'd seem to be the very definition of an unreliable narrator, if not for the fact that everything he's telling is actually true.

When a senior broker takes him under his wing on his first day and lays out the rules for success on Wall Street (which involves some magical combination of greed, coke and masturbation) over lunch, the speech is so well written by Terence Winter and delivered pitch perfectly by king charisma himself, Matthew McConaughey (in yet another scene-stealing turn), it's easy to see how Jordan fell for his intoxicating pitch of wealth and power. We totally get it. And when Jordan turns around and uses those same motivational tactics on his employees, we're sucked in again. Scorsese and DiCaprio dare us to cheer and laugh at it because it's ridiculous, scary, and also fun. Everyone who takes the bait won't be happy about it, but aren't supposed to be. That's the point. The notion that Jordan could be any one of us or someone we know is tough to face because it's true. That's why the film's three hour running length works to its advantage in a way rarely experienced. We're completely immersed in this world of debauchery, moving a mile a minute from one uproariously memorable sequence to the next, each seemingly more shocking than the last. It's excessive because it needs to be and the party never feels like it'll never stop, making the length seem just right and setting the stage for their inevitable fall. I didn't feel the time at all, a feat the editing Oscar was seemingly created to honor.

In what might be the performance of his career (if not certainly his most rewarding Scorsese collaboration yet) DiCaprio is given the rare opportunity to display his physical comedy chops with in a role that's as funny as it is dramatic. We know he can handle the heavy stuff, but who ever thought him capable of being this hilarious? There's never a moment that feels false or put on and it's unusual to see to the actor lose himself in a character to this extreme, burning the candle at both ends as Jordan appears to be having the time of his life while simultaneously wrecking it to pieces. That he seems completely like this man we don't know and possess so little knowledge of is a credit to how much DiCaprio pours into a performance that makes for an interesting companion piece to his work as Jay Gatsby earlier in the year. A more modern, outsized version of that character, Belfort has even even less of a soul and conscience. It's absolutely thrilling to watch and, nomination or not, will likely be appreciated and revisited for a while, squashing complaints from those down on all the frequent Scorsese-DiCaprio projects.   

Right alongside DiCaprio's tour de force is Jonah Hill's sociopathic, side-splitting turn as Jordan's boisterous associate and best friend, Donnie. Complete with buck teeth, bulging eyes and a colorfully hideous wardrobe even by 80's standards, he offers up what's less a performance than a grotesquely brilliant comedic creation so painfully funny and pathetically tragic you may not even believe it's him delivering it. Ironically it's in this, Hill's most prestigious role, that his gifts as a comedian seem best utilized as he makes Donnie almost uncomfortably real in his desire to fit in and make something of himself. Before things goes horribly awry.

Every line delivery, joke, or physical stunt Hill executes, he hits out of the park, causing me nearly uncontrollable laughter with each appearance. He's been exceptional in other things like Moneyball, but this is on another plane entirely. He and DiCaprio share what's sure to go down as the iconic sequence involving the delayed effects of quaaludes that defies description. Let's just say you'll never want to snack on cold cuts ever again. Actually, there are a lot of scenes like that, walking the razor's edge between comedy and drama to almost absurd extents while still somehow remaining within the boundaries of reality.

At the crux of Jordan's sort of downfall is his tumultuous marriage with "The Dutchess" Naomi and the instant Margot Robbie shows up, I wrongly braced myself for a terrible performance based on her appearance, assuming Leo requested they cast a supermodel for the role. For all I know that could have been entirely true, if not for the fact this is Scorsese we're talking about and the Australian Robbie absolutely nails it, going toe-to-toe with DiCaprio in every scene, while consistently maintaining a Brooklyn accent that never wavers. She clearly hit the jackpot in snagging this role but no one can claim it's a squandered opportunity.

Scorsese also provides director Rob Reiner with an entertaining supporting part as Jordan's trigger-tempered father and security head, "Mad Max" while other fellow directors Jon Favreau and Spike Jonze impress respectively as the firm's legal counsel and a hapless Oakmont employee. Recent Oscar winner Jean Dujardin is also really fun as a slick, Swiss banker with whom Jordan enters into business. Always hanging around the periphery is Kyle Chandler's FBI agent who makes Jordan aware of his presence in one of the best written, unexpected exchanges, and since he's played by "Coach Taylor," we're instantly on his side and know Belfort doesn't stand a chance outsmarting him.  It's fitting that what eventually trips him up is so randomly absurd and ridiculous considering how idiotic his behavior was up until that point. It was only a matter of time before it all caught up with him, and when it did, he still refused to just cash in his chips, even at the expense of losing his family and the firm he built.

Just as it seems Belfort will finally be punished, Scorsese subtly turns the camera on us, showing how the problem's much bigger than he is, with a culture that not only condoned, but often encouraged these behaviors and practices. We still do. He knows the only way to do that is by actually showing us, not telling us. Giving us a morality tale that punishes the character would have been far easier in every respect, but it wouldn't be truthful, nor would it be as dramatically interesting. There's a point where even Jordan worries that the law will come down hard on him, before coming to the realization that he's rich and the rules are different for him. We'll buy his books and go to the motivational seminars where audiences are entranced with the knowledge he has to share. Chandler's FBI agent has won only a very small battle, if he's won at all. He'll still have to ride the hot subway to work, integrity intact. But it's Belfort who will be remembered. Scorsese was stuck between a rock and a hard place in how strong a stance should be taken. If he condemns Belfort he's accused of being preachy, but if he doesn't then he's somehow glorifying his actions. Despite popular belief, he made the right choice in showing an uncensored account of what happened and leaving the judging to us.  

While baring most of the hallmarks that categorize a modern day Scorsese movie, it's still hard to recognize it is one since it feels edgy enough to have been made by a young, hungry filmmaker with something to prove. I've heard DiCaprio describe the film as being "punk" and it's easy to see how that adjective fits with the action, comedy, breakneck pacing and especially the Robbie Robertson supervised soundtrack, which takes the director's penchant for seamlessly incorporating classic rock and flips it on its head with lesser known covers of famous songs. Truthfully, it's strange to be on the side defending him since I'm usually never as excited about his work as everyone else, often respecting rather than flat-out loving his output. Not this time. I was on board all the way. At this point in his career no one would think any less of him if he just took it easy and cashed some paychecks so it's impossible not to greatly admire what he did here, delivering a work that carries all the urgency and reckless energy of his most respected titles.

By all accounts, the real Jordan Belfort and his associates certainly had fun doing this stuff so the damage needs to be shown, even if the result is as close to an NC-17 as it gets. The drugs. The hookers. The money. The strippers. The drugs. The government didn't punish Belfort so it's unfair to ask the filmmaker to do it. But the larger question might be whether the very act of making this picture is in some way irresponsible or signs off on the behavior. As if he's supposed to be a moral policeman for audiences and critics who can't make decisions for themselves. The film is whatever the viewer brings to it, as the best one usually are. And obviously anyone coming out of this thinking Belfort is some kind of anti-hero is welcome to that. But that's their decision, not Scorsese's. His job was to make a great film. It's ours to live with it.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Burning Questions from the 84th Annual Academy Awards


So I guess that whole banning Sacha Baron Cohen from the red carpet thing didn't exactly work out, did it?

And didn't Ryan Seacrest look thrilled?

Who would have ever thought the opening would feature Billy Crystal inserting himself into a montage of the year's Best Picture nominees?

Blackface?

Really?

Justin Bieber?

Really?

Wasn't Crystal in Tintin face slightly more disturbing than Crystal in Blackface?

Wasn't the segue from the pie-eating scene in The Help to the bathroom scene in Bridesmaids pretty clever?

Who would have thought Crystal would ever do a song and dance number?

Is there something to be said for not stepping out of your comfort zone?

Is it 1997?

No monologue?

Didn't the set actually look pretty good this year?

Why do I always seem to predict cinematography wrong every year?

Is it really THAT difficult a category?

That I feel more invested in the results since reviewing films be a viable reason why my predictions have gotten progressively worse over the years?

So how about J-Lo's dress?

Wardrobe malfunction?

Wouldn't it be great if we someday saw the return of serious actress Lopez who starred in Out of Sight, Anaconda and The Cell?

Did I just call Anaconda "serious?"

But compared to her recent work, isn't it?

How bad was that audio all night?

With its near sweep of the technical awards Hugo really had some momentum going there for a while didn't it?

Did that give its fans false hope it actually had a shot at the big prize?

Based on the clips, didn't the makeup for The Iron Lady actually look pretty bad?

Didn't the makeup in Albert Nobbs look even worse?

How about that standing O for Octavia Spencer?

How often does a film not nominated for Best Picture win film editing?

Weren't having clips of actors sharing their first movie memories a cool idea (at least on paper)?

Should Brad Pitt have offered up a spoiler warning before discussing War of the Gargantuas?

So Miss Piggy and Kermit introduce Cirque du Soleil but they can't find time to have the nominated Muppets song performed?

Wasn't it funny when Christopher Plummer pointed out that Oscar is only two years older than him?

Isn't it scary he's right?

How great was Crystal's dig following Academy president Tom Sherek's "speech?"

Bret McKenzie for "Man or Muppet"...most deserving win of the night?

Does Crystal's mind reading bit ever get old?

Especially when he's doing it to Nick Nolte?

Is Angelina Jolie okay?

Does it bother anyone else that Woody Allen no-shows when the Academy went out of their way to give him multiple nominations for an average film?

Why is it when Terrence Malick no-shows it adds to his mystique but with Allen it makes him look bitter and resentful?

We know these awards are ridiculous but would it really kill him to just once suck it up and graciously accept the praise of his peers?

Was Emma Stone (successfully) imitating Anne Hathaway's performance last year as host?

Was she the only presenter all night who was actually funny and charming?

Couldn't a case be made she deserved a nomination for The Help?

Weren't you glad the previous year's Best Director winner didn't announce this year's Best Director since no one remembers him?

Did you know it was Tom Hooper?

Who?

Wasn't the In Memoriam montage well done and classy this year?

Isn't it always a pleasure to be reminded that Esperanza Spalding beat Justin Bieber for the Best New Artist Grammy?

Natalie Portman had some work ahead of her with that Best Actor presentation, didn't see?

Didn't she do a good job?

Am I the only one who misses the five friends/colleagues personally addressing each Best Actor/Actress nominee?

Am I just saying that because I wanted Katie Holmes to appear and talk about Michelle Williams?

Would that have made the show for me?

And how exactly does Portman doing the work of of five people at the podium SAVE time? 

Given their connection with The Professional wouldn't it have been great to see her announce Gary Oldman as the winner?

Didn't Jean Dujardin have a Roberto Benigni/Cuba Gooding Jr. moment of excitement there toward the end of his speech?

Am I the only one hoping his post-Oscar career is significantly better than theirs?

How could it not be?

Didn't Clooney look legitimately happy for him?

Or was he just happy to be there with Stacy?

Given how her career's been going, should we just go ahead and reserve Michelle Williams and BFF Busy Phillips their front row seats at next year's Oscars now?

Did Colin Firth really need to remind everyone of Mama Mia?

Wasn't Meryl Streep spot-on when she imitated everyone's likely reaction to her winning?

Do I wish she would give her Oscar to its rightful owner Charlize Theron?

Did you know you can see for yourself when Young Adult hits DVD/Blu-ray on March 13?

How boring a year is it when Streep winning Best Actress is an "upset?"

Did this screw everyone up in their Oscar pools?

Are there even still Oscar pools?

Do you think voters realized Viola Davis' performance really belonged in the supporting category instead?

Has Tom Cruise aged in the past twenty years?

Is it ironic he was seriously considered for the role of Benjamin Button?

Wouldn't The Artist's catchy score make for a great ringtone? 

Given how much they played Mychael Danna's incredible score for Moneyball in the video packages all night, isn't it embarrassing it wasn't nominated?

Considering the year he had, wasn't it weird not seeing Ryan Gosling at the show?

Isn't it weirder he wasn't nominated?

After a really awkward start, didn't Crystal settle back into his role well?

Unlike Hathaway and Franco last year, doesn't it help when a host actually HOSTS the show?

Wasn't there something strangely reassuring about seeing him up there again?

Are you as excited as I am to not (mis)spell or (mis)pronounce Hazanavicius again for a while?

Should I just be relieved there couldn't have possibly been an injustice as big as The King's Speech winning over The Social Network last year?

Thursday, February 23, 2012

The Artist


Director: Michel Hazanavicius
Starring: Jean Dujardin, Berenice Bejo, Uggie, John Goodman, James Cromwell, Missi Pyle, Penelope Ann Miller, Malcolm McDowell, Beth Grant
Running Time: 100 min.
Rating: PG-13
 
★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)
 
The exact moment when The Artist becomes really interesting arrives when silent film star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) puts down a glass and it actually makes a sound. Up until then it's the first noise we hear other than the film's bouncy musical score. Then his dog Jack (Uggie) barks. Actresses walk by giggling. Valentin screams in frustration but he can't make a sound as the whole sequence plays out like a scene from The Twilight Zone. This nightmare quickly becomes reality for Valentin as Kinograph Studios' boss Al Zimmer (John Goodman) announces that the advent of "talkies" have led to them halting production on silent films and his services are no longer needed. Watching, it's hard not to think of actors being replaced by computer graphics and motion capture in an age of 3D technology, older actresses being marginalized in an industry that worships youth and, of course, the current economic crisis. Despite the old fashioned approach, it's surprising just how fresh and relevant it all seems, and while it's frequently funny, it's also a bit deeper than you'd expect. 

It's out with the old and in with the new as Valentin suddenly finds himself out of work, replaced with a new generation of fresh faces at Kinograph. The freshest is Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) an energetic young actress accidentally discovered by Valentin at one of his premieres. As the stock market crashes in 1929 and The Great Depression hits, her star rises fast while he's forced to finance his own silent films, which flop. Kicked out by his wife Doris (Penelope Ann Miller) he's forced to declare bankruptcy, auction off all his belongings and even fire his loyal valet Clifton (James Cromwell). Other than his dog, the one willing to help is Peppy, if only Valentin can somehow swallow his pride and let her before he hits rock bottom.

The big question is whether the film would attract this much attention if it wasn't silent and in black and white, but that's mostly irrelevant since director Michel Hazanavicius didn't just take any old material and tell it in this style for kicks. It's about a specific era and technology and he's using that technology to tell the story it so it can hardly be considered a gimmick. There is sound aside from Ludovic Bource's score (which drew some controversy for incorporating a portion of Bernard Herrmann's work from Hitchcock's Vertigo) but it's carefully placed at key moments related to the story, making its impact that much greater. It's not every day you see get to see a contemporary silent film on the big screen so it does take a couple of minutes to get used to the somewhat jarring effect of seeing contemporary actors in this setting.

You could only imagine the effect if the actors were huge, recognizable names so its helps American audiences are relatively unfamiliar with Dujardin and Bejo and the rest of the cast is rounded out with solid supporting players like Goodman, Miller (who shares a great Citizen Kane-inspired breakfast scene with Dujardin), Missi Pyle, James Cromwell and Malcolm McDowell. All actors who can slide into any environment, a useful skill here in contributing to the feeling we're actually watching a movie from that era.With no dialogue there's added pressure on the acting, so with his matinee idol looks that recall Clark Gable or Douglas Fairbanks, Dujardin's not only a perfect physical match for the part, he tells the entire story on his face and with his movements. At one point, Valentin's silent movie acting is disparagingly referred to as "mugging" which is funny considering what Dujardin does here is anything but. You'll gain a new appreciation of how screen acting so often transcends dialogue and the best moments in a screenplay can be found in between the lines, brought to life by the actor.

It's somewhat ironic Dujardin's competing against George Clooney in the Best Actor race considering that he's essentially playing a suicidal version of Clooney if he were exiled from the industry and lost everything. Given Valentin's movie star charisma and nice guy likability it's too tempting not to draw the comparison. Bejo is charming, lighting up the scenes she shares with Dujardin, as well as all the ones she doesn't. And as someone who always has trouble winking, I could also appreciate she has one the best winks I've ever seen. But the most memorable performance just might come from Uggie the dog, the Jack Russell Terrier who seems to display a whole range of emotions that go way beyond merely performing tricks and being obedient. He makes a good case for an honorary animal Oscar.

This runs 100 minutes and that's just enough. Any longer would have felt too long, but the highest compliment just might be that anyone uninterested in silent films would lose themselves in the story without realizing they were watching one. Say what you want about the Academy Awards, but they rarely ever nominate garbage. How this holds up will be determined by time, which hasn't been kind to Best Picture winners in the past. But at least it'll still be fun to see the stunned looks on people's faces years later when they're told the year this was released. The movie doesn't feel like a dated relic from a bygone era and tackles nostalgia on a deeper level than Woody Allen's far slighter Midnight in Paris by actually exploring what it's about. As the biggest silent star of the '20's, Valentin thinks he's untouchable and this sound thing is just a fad, an idea that can almost be considered as crazy as releasing a silent black and white film in 2011. But it's not much the idea that Hazanavicius could do this that's crazy, but rather that any studio would agree to release it and expect success. The Artist is a lot of things, but safe isn't one of them.