Crazy, Stupid, Love

Directors: Glenn Ficarra and John Requa
Starring: Steve Carell, Ryan Gosling, Julianne Moore, Emma Stone, Jonah Bobo, Analeigh Tipton, Marisa Tomei, Kevin Bacon, John Carroll Lynch, Beth Littleford, Liza Lapira, Josh Groban
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

If not for everything else it has going for it, last year's somewhat unfortunately titled Crazy, Stupid, Love would still be worth watching for further confirmation that Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone completely rule. Individually they're super talented, but together they're somehow even more magnetic than expected. And they're really not even the stars of the film, but steal it anyway with the two or three extended sequences that put the rest of the movie to shame. That's no small order considering the rest of it is a smart, funny, well written look at romantic pitfalls from a few different perspectives. Other than occasionally being too interested in showing off connections between certain characters and storylines, it actually has something to say while still delivering the laughs. Steve Carell is again in top form playing a middle-aged sad sack, but it's Gosling who steals the show, adding an off kilter comic turn to his already impressive list of 2011 performances. The unlikely duo end up carrying an entertaining premise further than it really has any right going.

Carell plays Cal Weaver, a middle-aged married man who learns his wife Emily (Julianne Moore) cheated on him with her co-worker David Lindhagen (Kevin Bacon) and wants a divorce. Kicked out of the house and distraught, he drowns his sorrows at a bar every night, whining to complete strangers about his wife's betrayal. This catches the attention of smooth womanizer Jacob Palmer (Gosling), who can't stand watching this "former shell of a man" wallow in self-pity any longer and offers his services, promising Cal he'll transform his image and help him pick up women. Ironically, as Jacob steadily improves Cal's prospects, he's rejected by brainy law school grad Hannah (Emma Stone). Meanwhile at home, Cal's 13-year-old son Robbie ( Jonah Bobo) harbors a unrequited crush on his 17-year-old babysitter Jessica (Analeigh Tipton), who actually has a crush of her own on Cal. All this while he and Emily adjust to single life apart, wondering if there's still any chance of a reconciliation.

The scenes with Carell and Gosling make the movie, with the the former playing a hilarious, deadpan variation on his character in The 40-Year-Old Virgin. That is if he eventually got married, had kids and his wife left him for another man. Cal's always been a geek, but was never aware of just how much of one until he's single and Gosling's Jacob pulls no punches in letting him know it. Scenes where he shows him all his pick-up tricks and attempts to outfit him in a new wardrobe, are among the many highlights in their mentor-student bromance. And is there anyone cooler than Gosling? This is one of the few movies where I actually believed a guy could effortlessly pick up that many women in so little time. He then proceed to believably teach a class on it. What's funnier is that he plays Jacob as womanizing slime and still somehow makes him not only seem charming and likable, but worth rooting for. We'd also believe his schemes would come to a screeching halt when he discovers Emma Stone's goofy, but strangely desirable Hannah, resulting in the movie's best written and performed sequence. Stone, one of the select few actresses actually capable of making me laugh out loud with a facial expression or joke, proves again here that her comic timing is spot-on.     

Jacob's mentoring relationship with Cal clicks largely because each wants what the other has even though they don't know it yet, causing most of the story's complications. Less effective are attempts to create any sympathy for Moore's philandering wife. Yes, women cheat for a reason. We know that. However, Cal never seems to be guilty of anything beyond being excessively dorky during their marriage so when his starts bedding women during their separation, sympathy for her is minimal, if non-existent. This creates a poor payoff to a sub-plot involving Cal and a horny teacher played by Marisa Tomei that mostly misses its mark. I get what the writers were going for, but Moore's character is just too unlikable and one-dimensionally written to earn our sympathy. Surprisingly, the sub-plot involving Robbie's crush on his babysitter is better developed, coming off more sweet than creepy thanks to the winning performances of Bobo and Tipton. Kevin Bacon is suitably slimy as the "other guy" who breaks up Cal and Emily's marriage, and once you move past the inevitable "Is that who I think it is?" reaction, singer Josh Groban makes a solid debut with an extended cameo as Hannah's boyfriend, who couldn't care less about her.

This movie is as predictable as just about any other rom-com, with an ending that puts the "crazy" in its title and brings all the intersecting story threads together in one huge comic finale. What sets it apart is the acting and writing that's more interested in exploring truths about relationships than relying on plot contrivances to advance the story. There are some of them, but for the most part you're too engaged with the characters to even care. But who are we kidding? The real reason this entire movie works is because of Carell, Gosling and Stone. Without them, it's unlikely anyone would even be talking about Crazy, Stupid, Love much less showering it with praise. It's one of the rare, smart romantic comedies and a great example of how funny material can elevate and be elevated by talented actors.

The Ides of March

Director: George Clooney
Starring: Ryan Gosling, George Clooney, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Paul Giamatti, Marisa Tomei, Jeffrey Wright, Evan Rachel Wood
Running Time: 101 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)
 
Is there any better casting than George Clooney playing a liberal Presidential candidate? If the actor ran right now he'd probably win and you'd have problems convincing me he'd be any worse a choice than the other available options. Having also wrote and directed the timely political thriller The Ides of March, he knew the right role to give himself. As expected, he smoothly plays Pennsylvania Governor Mike Morris like it's effortless. But the film's not about him. At least not completely. It's about his press secretary Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling), who starts off as an idealist and ends up as someone else entirely. We kind of know that's where we're going but the real thrill is in how Clooney's airtight script and precise direction masterfully turn the screws to take us there. It's a step-by-step examination of how someone becomes corrupted and why our political system is so broken. It's a stretch, but not unrealistic, and I believed if something like this were to go down, this is how it would and these are the kind of bad decisions people make that allow it to happen.

Two such decisions send the story spiraling out of control and they're easy to justify because the characters making them are smart. The first starts with Gosling's Stephen receiving a phone call from rival Presidential campaign manager Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti) trying to woo him over to their side. And for good reason. He's the best. It's a tempting offer since Morris' Presidential campaign is struggling and they're about to lose Ohio. An Obama-like idealist to his core (or so it seems at first), Morris refuses to compromise his beliefs to get elected, which makes one wonder how he got into politics at all. Topping the list is his refusal to court the potentially election-clinching endorsement of Sen. Thompson (Jeffrey Wright), which does come at a price. Stephen's on a sinking ship and knows it but his loyalty to Morris and senior campaign manager Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman) won't let him jump. But the opposition's interest in him is undeniably flattering, resulting in a fleeting moment of weakness that has disastrous consequences.

The second mistake involves a young, connected intern named Molly (Evan Rachel Wood) with whom Stephen becomes romantically involved. Only that's not the mistake. It's unwise, but the real mistake is hers. And it's a doozy. From there, the plot, with all its twists and turns, unravels and a reporter (Marisa Tomei) threatens to bust it wide open in a welcome return to the days in movies where journalists wielded considerable power. At one point Giamatti's character states that the problem with Democrats is their refusal to be like Republicans. They won't get down in the dirt and sling mud. But corruption crosses party lines.

A while back Clooney revealed his 100 favorite movies and now he's directed one that's an interesting companion piece to that list, recalling similarly themed political/conspiracy thrillers of the '70's like The Parallax View and All The President's Men. It's not surprising a smart, engaging film for adults would underperform at the box office right now, but that critics would use it as a punching bag is, with more than a few disparagingly referring to it as a glorified TV movie. I don't get that at all, even if it may be more a compliment considering the healthy creative state of television these days. It could be because it covers a topic that's often explored on the small screen or that the revelations in the film aren't shocking per se (though one did blow me out of my seat), but instead meticulously constructed and executed, like a chess game with its pieces moving across the board. And all the players are perfectly utilized.

Given the banner year each had it's no surprise Gosling facing off against Clooney on screen yielded such successful results, making Gosling worthy of competing against himself for a Best Actor Oscar if that were allowable (and now I'm thinking it should). In a way what he does here is similar but completely different to his more muted, intense performance in Drive in that he's playing a cool, calculated character suddenly rattled threatened by circumstances exceeding his grasp. It's a difficult role, but he expertly sells the tricky transformation from idealist to cynic. Giamatti and Hoffman are two of our finest contemporary actors, but they could have easily been marginalized in an ensemble like this. Neither are, with each at the top of their games making essential supporting contributions on which the entire foundation of the story rests. Evan Rachel Wood is tragically tremendous as the doomed intern in way over her head.     

I'll admit to laughing a little when Clooney's script (adapted from Beau Willimon's 2008 play Farragut North) was nominated for Best Adapted screenplay thinking it was just another way for the Academy to pat their favorite movie star on the back. But he deserves the praise, streamlining a complicated narrative into a clean, concise cinematic experience free of any excess fat. Technically speaking, it's perfect. Consider it the Michael Clayton of political thrillers, right down to its chilling final image. If that film marked the turning point for Clooney as an actor then this is his as a director, easily surpassing all his three previous efforts behind the camera which were solid, but dry. There's nothing dry or slight about this. Here's a movie with something important to say. The political system may be broken but those engulfed in it should look no further than the mirror to determine what's most in need of fixing.

The Lincoln Lawyer

Director: Brad Furman
Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Marisa Tomei, Ryan Phillipe, Josh Lucas, John Leguizamo, William H. Macy, Michael Pena, Bryan Cranston
Running Time: 119 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

For whatever reason, Matthew McConaughey really excels at playing lawyers. I know, it's crazy. I don't understand it either, but it fits him. With so many choices he's made in the past decade resulting in disaster, The Lincoln Lawyer is a welcome return to form, positioning him in the type of part that first put him on the map and signaled the arrival of a major star in 1996's A Time To Kill. That I'd have to reach back that far back to find his last successful starring performance isn't good news. He definitely got sidetracked, with many of us asking "What happened?" as he starred in a series of flops, most of them romantic comedies.  Despite having screen presence and charisma to burn, he's unfortunately spent the past several years making us wonder what we saw in him in the first place. This movie reminds us what that was and that all needed this entire time was the right vehicle that plays to his strengths. And it turns out that vehicle is a Lincoln Towncar. Getting back down to business again as an actor, he gives maybe his best performance since the '90's in a smart, twisty legal potboiler credible enough to be taken seriously, without losing any of the fun. He's a huge reason it works, but not the only one. The events that go down in this adaptation of Michael Connolly's 2005 novel seem on the surface to be ordinarily basic but this is actually one of the few recent legal thrillers to not only successfully explore the idea of attorney-client privilege, but wring it for maximum tension.

Los Angeles criminal defense attorney Mickey Haller (McConaughey) works out of his Lincoln representing a variety of low level criminals, most of them repeat offenders. Slick, charismatic and used to talking his way out of any jam, he lands the biggest, most high profile case of his career when wealthy Beverly Hills playboy Louis Roulet (Ryan Phillipe) is accused of the brutal beating of prostitute Regina Campo (Margarita Levieva). Backed by his overbearing real estate mogul mother (Frances Fisher), Louis swears he's being set up as Mickey and his private investigator Frank Levin (a hippie looking William H. Macy) digs into the sordid details of the case, trying to make sense of what happened that night at the victim's apartment.  Initially starting as a mystery thriller, a major development occurs within the first hour that pushes the story in another direction. It would be a stretch to call it a plot "twist," but let's just say the film doesn't end up at all being about the guilt or innocence of the accused and this isn't a whodunnit. Mickey becomes privy to some information and what he chooses to do or not do with it sets up an intriguing ethical dilemma you don't see depicted often in courtroom dramas. Becoming a pawn in his own client's game, the super slick protagonist who never had a care in the world must negotiate his way out of a legal trap that puts his obligations as an attorney on a collision course with moral responsibility.

The film's title isn't to be taken literally, as most of the action takes place in courtrooms, inside prisons and apartments where crimes are committed and evidence gathered. Mickey does work out of his Lincoln and is driven around L.A., but it's hardly as integral to the plot as the trailers and commercials implied, which is a good thing since that would make it seem like a gimmick. Instead it seems that's just the kind of guy Mickey is: A fly by night D.A. looking for his next big payday until his life and career outlook is flipped upside down by one case. Without giving too much away, John Romano's timely screenplay cleverly incorporates the idea that defense attorneys are often put into situations where they must knowingly send criminals back onto the street to protect the integrity of a sometimes questionable justice system. One of the more interesting points raised is that Mickey can live with himself knowing he helped set a guilty man free, but the idea of an innocent man spending his life behind bars, or worse, facing the death penalty, makes him sick. A lawyer always seems to operate better not knowing whether or not their client did it, or maybe just assume that they did so they can think like the prosecution. But what happens when he really does find out for sure and it isn't the answer he expected? That changes the game completely.

McConaughey is so good at adjusting to the twists and turns the story takes, going from being smooth and in-control in one minute to a frazzled, intense mess the next, specifically in the courtroom scenes where he faces off with Josh Lucas' prosecutor. It may say as much about how we perceive flashy "movie lawyers" than it does about McConaughey's talent, but the fact remains that this is a great performance in a seemingly custom-made role that takes full advantage of his natural charisma and smoothness while also giving him his biggest dramatic challenge in a while. Ryan Phillipe is downright chilling as the accused, doing his best work in years, even if delving into the details of how would probably give too much away. Macy is solid as always as the investigator while Marisa Tomei is saddled with the most uninteresting part in the film as his estranged wife. But the script is smart in how it bothers to make their relationship seem realistically uninteresting and unobtrusive to the central storyline. It doesn't feel thrown in for dramatic effect. It's also a relief to finally have a movie lawyer without a drinking problem or some other unnecessary addiction thrown just in case we didn't get the memo he has to redeem himself. Everything here is focused on the case and McConaughey's performance takes care of the rest. 

There are many ways this movie could have gone wrong but director Brad Furman sidesteps many of them in delivering the rare legal thriller that isn't dumb and kind of feels like a throwback to all those John Grisham adaptations from the 90's that managed to be fun, fast-paced but still retained a certain degree of intelligence. Most impressive is that nothing occurs in the film that can't be predicted within its opening minutes but you're still on pins and needles waiting to see how it unfolds. It provides just the right type of old school, audience pleasing entertainment value lacking in most mainstream adult dramas these days, complete with an ending that's suspenseful and ridiculous in the best possible way. Even having not read the novel from which it's based it's difficult to imagine author Michael Connolly and the book's fans could feel let down in any way with the adaptation. But maybe the biggest compliment that can be thrown toward The Lincoln Lawyer and McConaughey is when it ended I still wondered what happens to his character and actually wouldn't mind seeing a sequel.

The Wrestler

Director: Darren Aronofsky
Starring: Mickey Rourke, Marisa Tomei, Evan Rachel Wood, Ernest Miller Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: R

**** (out of ****)

Boxing has Rocky and Raging Bull. Basketball has Hoosiers. Football has Rudy. Now wrestling has The Wrestler. Only it comes at the highest price and is the darkest of victories. Now everyone knows. The curtain is pulled all the way back and at times it’s really difficult to watch. I kept trying to convince myself that director Darren Aronofsky was exaggerating for effect. It's a movie. It’s not really that bad. But let’s not fool ourselves. It is. We know because we’ve seen the long list of wrestlers who passed away too soon. The numbers don’t lie and neither does this film, an unflinching, brutalizing look at the life of a past his prime wrestler that’s about as uplifting as a funeral. The film starts dark and then it gets darker until finally it goes so dark it practically plunges itself into the depths of emotional hell.

Supposedly, Aronofsky took a trip up to Stanford, Connecticut to show the film to WWE chairman Vince McMahon. Why he even bothered I have no idea. Those who watch wrestling would seek the movie out anyway, with or without McMahon’s endorsement (more likely without it). Of course he despised the film and now after finally viewing it I find it hard to believe he didn’t hurl himself off the roof of Titan Towers. I’m sure he thinks this “exposes the business.” Damn right it does. The truth hurts.

His denouncement was the first positive sign for me that Aronofsky had probably made a great film. But as someone who's been watching wrestling far longer than I have movies, I couldn’t help but be overcome with wildly mixed feelings. Thrilled as both a fan and filmgoer that the profession of “wrestler” and what they do has finally been treated with the respect and dignity it deserves on screen, but also at the same time thoroughly devastated with the cold reality that unfolds.
Mentioning this film alongside the best sports movies could seem blasphemous to many since wrestling is so often belittled as “fake” by those who don't understand the work involved. But its brilliance is in how it explores the toll that unfair label has taken on those who earn their living doing it, or in the case of this protagonist, struggle to. This isn’t a feel-good movie about redemption, overcoming the odds or even winning the big match. If pushed for comparisons, it comes closest in tone to the gritty Raging Bull, digging so deep and pulling so few punches that the professional wrestling industry as a whole had no choice but to disown it. The accolades and superlatives for that accomplishment belong to Aronofsky, and especially Mickey Rourke, drawing on a well-documented lifetime of pain and suffering to give a performance for the ages.

Rourke is faded 80’s wrestling superstar Randy “The Ram” Robinson, who at the height of his popularity was one of the most recognizable and successful professional wrestlers in the world. Now, twenty years later, his hearing is almost gone, he’s nursing a laundry list of wrestling-related injuries and instead of filling up arenas he lives in a trailer park where he can’t even make the month’s rent. He spends his weekdays working at the supermarket and the weekends wrestling local independent shows in New Jersey. The energy of the crowd (however small it may be) keeps him going but the closest he gets to his glory days is playing himself on an old 8-Bit Nintendo game with the neighborhood kids.

Following a brutal, hardcore match with crazed opponent Necro Butcher (Dylan Summers) Ram collapses in the locker room, suffering a heart attack. He’s told he can never wrestle again but how he’s given the news by the doctor is particularly cold and condescending, as if he views his profession as just a crazy side hobby he can drop at any time rather than what he does for a living. He can’t just "stop." It’s not that simple.

For Ram there is no life outside of wrestling. His only friend is a stripper named Cassidy (Marisa Tomei) but she has an invisible line she doesn’t want to cross with customers that prevents their relationship from going any further. His estranged daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood) hates his guts and at the beginning we’re confused as to exactly why. By the end we’re not. Ram may be a force between the ropes but outside of them he’s essentially a wounded dog, discarded by the business (and it is very much a business) he literally gave his heart to. But he’s still got one match left to go, against his old arc-nemesis The Ayatollah (Ernest Miller”), if he can make it.
Afonofsky, bringing to life the vivid details of Robert Siegel’s script, shows us EVERYTHING. The blading. The steroids. The locker room. The promoters. The planned finishes. Nothing is left out and there are no inconsistencies to be found (and believe me I was looking). I was surprised not only how much wrestling action was in the film, but how good and seamless it looked. And now maybe after seeing close-ups of staples, thumbtacks and barbed wire removed from someone’s flesh, cynics may actually think twice before throwing that ridiculous “fake” label around. Aronofsky has finally done what I've always wanted to my entire life: Shut those people up for good. Pre-determined? Yes. Fake? Try taking a chair shot to the head. Doesn't hurt. I promise.

It’s often said a director or writer did their research before making a film but in the case of Aronofsky and screenwriter Robert Siegel it must have been exhaustive and the results are visible in every frame. There so many little, specific details that are thrown in that can’t be given away at risk of ruining the first-time experience. Besides being thrown right into the ring we’re given unlimited access to the locker room and the camaraderie that exists between the wrestlers. One of my favorite moments is Ram discussing the plans for his match with Butcher, who when you first see him in the locker room reminds you more of a tenured English professor than a hardcore wrestler. Then we see the match and can’t believe it’s even the same guy. After over 20 years watching I thought I had seen everything in pro wrestling but there were some moments here that were really eye opening and educational in shocking ways, like a sleazy promoter paying Randy chump change for a show in a high school gym. The saddest of all is a legends autograph signing where wrestlers are either in wheelchairs, hooked up to I.V’s, or asleep. Only a couple of fans show up.

Here's where I’m obligated to talk about the incredible comeback of Mickey Rourke. Since I'm criminally unfamiliar with much of his early work there’s no baseline for which I can judge his performance here against those, not as if there should be any need to. But I am fully aware of what happened to him and how far he had to climb to get back. And I can tell you, in this film, measured against any criteria, for 115 minutes MICKEY ROURKE IS A PRO WRESTLER. But don’t believe anyone who tells you he’s “playing himself.” If that's true how would you explain how he’s somehow more believable in the role than most of the wrestlers you’d see on television every week? This guy could headline Wrestlemania right now. But it's as Randy where he should earn his Oscar.
Discussing the merits of the film outside of Rourke’s performance is difficult but not because he overshadows it. In fact, just the opposite. He’s in every scene and must carry every moment but what sets his performance apart from Oscar rival Sean Penn’s in Milk is that Rourke makes everything and everyone around him better. While Penn’s work was technically staggering it wasn’t giving like this is. There’s something deeper going on and an emotionally draining ordeal that that could have easily turned into the cinematic equivalent of slitting your wrists is grounded in the warmth and sensitivity Rourke brings to the role. Inside the ring Ram is a maniac but outside of it he’s a gentle soul. He never plays Randy as pitiful cause, instead as a man soldiers on and rolls with the punches despite the obvious emotional pain he feels.

Watching him I got the impression I was witnessing the kind of performance that people will look back on 30 years from now as a standard-bearer in film acting, a Brando-level achievement. Him not winning the Oscar would be a flat-out horror and that’s taking into account that Penn gave arguably the performance of his career. Rourke is that great. The role had originally belonged to Nicolas Cage, who dropped out. To his credit, he knew this was Mickey’s part, or maybe he just wet his pants at the sight of a staple gun. Either way, Cage finally makes a career move we can all support.

As much as it may appear Rourke does it alone, he doesn’t. Evan Rachel Wood has maybe only two or three big scenes but they’re absolutely huge and it’s a powerhouse turn, much more restrained than you might imagine. The dichotomy between Ram and Marisa Tomei’s stripper Cassidy cuts to the very heart of the film. Both dress up (or in her case down) and put on a show. Neither is taken seriously when the show ends, nor do they know who they’re supposed to be when that curtain closes. Two lost souls kicked to the curb in the professions they love when they've reached their expiration date.

Gone are the stylistic and visual flourishes that have become hallmarks of Aronofsky’s films like Requiem For A Dream and The Fountain. The latter was perceived by many to be a failure. Not by me, but if you think he needed a "comeback" film after it this was exactly the kind of one he should have made and an even bigger challenge. Practically stripped bare of everything but Siegel’s script and the actors we find out what’s he really got.
Aided by documentary cinematographer Maryse Alberti the movie has a docu-style feel that's uncomfortable and at times even scary in its immediacy, but never drawing unnecessary attention to its method. We're taking this trip with him as it succeeds even beyond taking us with cruel intimacy into the ring and depicts an even more desolate, depressing world outside of it. A deli scene where Ram finally reaches his breaking point is so frightening I'm swearing off cold cuts for life. The ‘80’s soundtrack could easily double as Guitar Hero’s Greatest Hits, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. And if you don’t get chills when Ram comes through the curtain to Guns n’ Roses’ “Sweet Child O’ Mine” it’s time to check for a pulse. Had Axl not given them the song for free it would have been worth every penny the studio paid for it.

Because it’s an Aronofsky film we know he won’t supply any easy answers or let us go with a pat ending. One of the few movies I've seen in recent years that ended perfectly. The beauty of the final minutes is how it can be interpreted as either tragic or uplifting. It stays with you. Why should you feel sorry for someone who chose to do this for a living? You shouldn’t, and like the protagonist the film never asks for your sympathy or sentimentalizes the situation. It just asks you to think about it....hard.

Maybe years down the line if wrestlers are ever respected as athletes and entertainers rather than demeaned as “independent contractors” we can look back on Aronofsky’s accomplishment as taking the first steps toward getting there. Wrestling now finally has its film and there’s nothing anyone can do to take it away. Not even McMahon. But what might be the saddest thing about The Wrestler, sadder even than the struggle of the title character, is that the wrestling business is unable to share in the victory.