Smashed

Director: James Ponsoldt
Starring: Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Aaron Paul, Octavia Spencer, Nick Offerman, Megan Mullally, Mary Kay Place, Kyle Gallner
Running Time: 81 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

There are certain actors and actresses you're just a fan of. It would probably be easier to deny it and pretend I go into every movie with complete objectivity, but the fact is that I'm much more likely to watch and appreciate a film starring performers I like and have followed throughout their careers. I want them to make smart choices that confirm my opinions of their talent, and if they don't, it's disappointing. Three of them co-star in James Ponsoldt's Smashed, a film about alcoholism that's really about a descent into sobriety. Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Aaron Paul and Nick Offerman appearing together in a single film reading from a phone book probably would have been enough for me, but here's Winstead giving an award caliber central performance as an alcoholic, Paul as her immature, unsupportive husband and Offerman proving he can inhabit a character that's about as far removed from Parks and Rec's Ron Swanson as possible. On top of that, the film itself is nearly perfect in a straightforward, no-nonsense way that may not be immediately apparent. It plays honestly, but without judgement.

Winstead plays Kate Hannah, a schoolteacher who also happens to be an alcoholic. We see in early scenes that, as the former, she's amazingly kind and patient with the kids and pretty much every parent's dream of who they'd trust with their children. Until, hungover from another night of partying, she vomits all over the classroom floor. The kids ask her if she's pregnant and, panicking, she to lies them and a supportive Principal Barnes (Megan Mullally). It's likely Kate's been an alcoholic for a while but is just now starting to come around and realize it. She's not there yet, but getting close. Hardly helping is her equally hard partying husband, Charlie (Paul) whose complete obliviousness to their situation and terminal complacency are the only qualities making him seem like he doesn't have as much of a problem as she does. Kate's only real support comes from the soft-spoken vice principal Dave Davies (Offerman), a recovering addict not only willing to cover up her lie because he has a big crush, but also willing to take her with him to AA meetings where she meets her sponsor, Jenny (Octavia Spencer). On the road to recovery, Kate discovers sobriety is slowly tearing her marriage apart, as a still drinking Charlie feels left behind and a slew of other problems start to surface.  

It seems to be a commonly held belief about young people that their drinking and drug use will never escalate to alcoholism or addiction, and it carries over into movies where the middle-aged tend to be the most serious substance abusers. It's almost as if young adults are expected to be doing it, and, as a result, should be able to handle it just fine. At the beginning of this film you'd almost be forgiven into thinking so, until a moment comes that's frightening in how well Winstead sells it. Waking up on the street with no idea where she is or how she got there, it's the first time Kate seems legitimately scared and mortified of what she's capable of when drinking. During a memorable sequence scored to Richard and Linda Thompson's "I Want to See The Bright Lights Tonight," we see Kate spend the night smoking crack with a hooker, and it's after that she realizes it's the final straw. But really it's just the beginning. Short-term, her decision to embrace sobriety surprisingly causes more problems than it solves in her marriage and life, while bringing dormant ones to the surface, such as an already strained relationship with her mother (Mary Kay Place).

There were already strong hints of Winstead promise in 2011's The Thing prequel and now seeing this it'll be easier to understand why I suspected that role in Scott Pilgrim was way beneath her. This confirms it. It's almost become a long-running joke that playing an alcoholic is every actor's dream since it invariably leads to awards recognition of some sort, but there's a reason for that. It's difficult to do believably. She doesn't squander the opportunity, knowing that drunk people often behave like delusional sober people, completely ignorant to everything going on around them. And it's the mode she's in for the entire first half of the film, which is no small feat. But it's when the drinking stops that her performance really kicks into high gear, as Kate's eaten with guilt over her sobriety driving a wedge through her marriage. She also has to ward off the advances of confidant and co-worker, Dave, though using the term "advances" is probably stretching it given his struggles talking to women. Offerman leaves all traces of the manly, breakfast obsessed Ron Swanson behind in a really subdued, low-key dramatic performance that still doesn't completely abandon the dry sense of humor he's known for. It proves, unsurprisingly, that he's capable of other things.

Aaron Paul plays Charlie as a good guy, but also one stuck in a complacent holding pattern. In this way, he resembles Jesse Pinkman of Breaking Bad's early seasons (right down to the substance abuse and playing video games on the couch) to the point that he'll probably be accused of just playing a variation on his TV character. But this speaks more to our familiarity with Paul than the actual performance, which is surprising in how he cedes so much of the spotlight to his co-star. Now that Kate's sober, there may no longer be a place for him in her life and they'll have to take stock as to whether they ever had anything that went beyond drinking and partying. We also wonder if she can move past how unforgivably unsupportive he's been in her recovery. But much like Flight, the other 2012 film dealing with alcoholism, Kate won't really be clean until she admits she isn't and takes responsibility for her lies.

Watching Smashed, I couldn't help but wonder how badly it would have turned out if a major studio had released it, interfering to make it more exciting or dumbing it down so a depressing topic like alcoholism could be more cheery and accessible. Thankfully, we'll never see that version and I'm given the opportunity to see three of my favorites given free reign to just tear into this meaningful material with everything they've got. It also marks the first time I've seen a movie character pulled over for driving drunk...on a bicycle. First-time director Ponsoldt makes it happen but it's easy believe the hard part was over once this cast was set in place. It wasn't until the end that I realized Paul and Offerman don't share a single scene together. And that feels strangely like the right call. For the story's purposes, there's no need, so they don't.  But the film ultimately belongs to Winstead, revealing dimensions to her abilities even her biggest fans couldn't have anticipated. And that she does it opposite two of TV's best, only makes the accomplishment seem that much greater.

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?

The Help

Director: Tate Taylor
Starring: Emma Stone, Viola Davis, Bryce Dallas Howard, Octavia Spencer, Jessica Chastain, Ahna O' Reilly, Allison Janey, Emma Henry, Chris Lowell, Cicely Tyson, Mike Vogel, Sissy Spacek
Running Time: 146 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ¼ (out of ★★★★) 

From a critical standpoint, The Help is underrated. It may seem like a strange comment to make about a decently reviewed awards contender beloved by many and that's grossed over $200 million, but it seems whenever the film's discussed there's always some qualifier belittling or explaining away its success. The most pointed accusation slung its way is that it's a "whitewashing" of racism, taking what's obviously extremely sensitive and important issue and sanitizing it for mainstream entertainment, even going so far as to filter it all through the eyes of a white protagonist. Accused of engaging in revisionist history, many have claimed it presents a Hollywood version of the Jim Crow South that fails to make everyone understand the true pain and suffering blacks experienced during that time. But could any film do that? Should it? Going into Tate Taylor's The Help (based on Kathryn Sockett's 2009 bestselling novel) I expected mainstream fluff, kind of a Hallmark greeting card or Lifetime movie of the week transported to the big screen. Something like The Blind Side meets Driving Miss Daisy. But it's instead a well acted, well directed drama that works as a snapshot of a time and a depiction of attitudes. This isn't pretending to be something it's not, and overlooking that is the biggest mistake that can be made critiquing it. And if it is fluff someone forgot to tell the talented array of actresses who carry it. If anything, it should be praised, not derided, for deftly handling a difficult topic with an intelligence uncommon among most mainstream movies.

It's the early 60's in Jackson, Mississippi and 23 year-old Eugenia "Skeeter" Phelan (Emma Stone) is fresh out of college with a new job writing for the local newspaper, an opportunity frowned upon by her cancer-striken mother Charlotte (Alison Janey) who feels she should just find a man and settle down. Upon discovering their longtime maid Constantine (Cicely Tyson) had mysteriously quit then disappeared while she was away, Skeeter's eyes are opened to the racist attitudes her friends and neighbors have toward "the help." The worst of them is stuck-up socialite and Junior League president Hilly Holbrook (Bryce Dallas Howard) who actually proposes a "Home Help Sanitation Initiative" that would provide separate bathrooms for their black housekeepers. Having not been brought up racist, Skeeter starts questioning these injustices and comes up with the idea to write a book from their perspective, detailing the feelings of maids who've sacrificed own lives to raise white children who will more than likely grow up to become racists themselves. Two maids, the quiet, somber Abileen Clark (Viola Davis) and tough talking Minny Jackson (Octavia Spencer) agree to participate. The former quietly soldiers forward while mourning the death of her son while the latter isn't afraid of telling it like it is, a trait that gets her fired by Hilly and eventually taken under the employ of social outcast Celia Foote (Jessica Chastain). With the deadline from her editor fast approaching, Skeeter must get as many stories from the help as she can, which proves difficult considering the potential consequences of the book's publication.

What really jumps out about the story are the hypocritical attitudes of these well-to-do white women who trust the help enough to let them essentially raise their children, but refuse to share a bathroom with them because of the color of their skin.  While Skeeter is the first to notice this inane reasoning and sets in motion a plan to rectify it, the story really isn't about her. Those complaining the maids' histories are being dictated to a white person should consider the likelihood of any editor publishing a book by a black housekeeper during that era, not mention the chances they'd risk their lives trying to write one. The character of Skeeter actually makes the events seem more plausible, not less. So by even employing this narrative device (taken straight from the novel) the film's already operating at a higher level of realism than it's being given credit for. But the movie is all about the performances, which are just about as good as any from an ensemble cast this year.

As the narrator and centerpiece of the story, Viola Davis has surprisingly limited screen time and dialogue as Aibileen, but the the film never needs to go to the ugly places everyone's complaining it doesn't because all the pain, suffering and indignity these maids begrudgingly endure is visible on Davis' face. Given the opportunity to finally speak out against injustice she's justifiably filled with mixed feelings since it's the only life she knows, as awful as it is. Octavia Spencer steals the spotlight as the feisty Minny, role that was specifically written with the longtime character actress in mind. The special surprise she delivers to her former employer Hilly is easily the funniest moment in the picture, as an ignorant racist finally gets her comeuppance courtesy of an unusual dessert. That a movie covering this topic can even have funny moments and we don't feel guilty laughing should be proof enough something was done right.

Bryce Howard is brilliantly detestable as Hilly, and while she's the kind of villain you just want to reach through the screen and strangle, Howard's portrayal impressively avoids turning her into a one-dimensional caricature. As in her supporting turn in this year's cancer dramedy 50/50, she makes her character's deplorable actions seem real and sad, not manufactured for the sake of cheap drama. Sissy Spacek provides scene-stealing comic relief as Hilly's mother, who's losing her marbles but can still see what an annoying brat her daughter's turned into. Emma Stone is charmingly goofy and endearing as Skeeter, in a difficult role that most other actresses in her age range likely would have struggled with. She pulls off a surprisingly convincing southern accent, handles the more dramatic scenes well, and effectively conveys Skeeter's insecurity and outspoken bravery. Making her sixth or seventh screen appearance this year, 2011's biggest acting discovery Jessica Chastain disappears into Marilyn Monroe lookalike Celia, a social outcast who ends up having a lot more substance to her than it seems at first. On the outskirts and sheltered from the racist views of her peers, the emotional bond she forms with new employee Minny is one of the film's many surprising pleasures.

The big mystery and what her mother's been keeping from Skeeter is what exactly happened with their longtime help Constantine while she was away at school. It's a secret that's kept throughout the entire film, until being revealed in a flashback in the third act and without spoiling anything, I'll just say it's one hell of a scene. I can't understand how anyone can watch this powerful sequence and the heartbreaking performances of Allison Janey and Cicely Tyson in it and still claim this is just fluff.  There's an indelible image that concludes this expertly directed and acted scene that's difficult to shake after it's passed, regardless of anyone's feelings on the film's treatment of history as a whole.

Is the movie meant to be a mainstream audience pleaser? Absolutely. And there's nothing wrong with that. While there are inherent limitations when you take this approach and the length of ten football fields separates the quality of something like this and the year's higher quality films like The Tree of Life or Drive, I still wouldn't begrudge the casual moviegoer--who maybe sees only a handful of features each year--for naming it one their favorites. To say it's "dumbed down" for mainstream audiences or they want to be spoon-fed a revisionist history isn't exactly fair since the presentation of the material never really backs that argument up. It's presented in a manner that definitely aims to make it feel more accessible, but it isn't dumb. If anything, it would hopefully get viewers unaware of the exact history to learn more about the actual events that inspired it or seek the kind of documentary some critics are complaining this isn't. And it shouldn't be punished for tackling a sensitive topic in more lightweight manner, especially if its intentions are clearly laid out from the onset and it doesn't waver in that approach all the way through. It was obvious from the first frame what the goal of the film was and it almost flawlessly delivers on that promise with just a few missteps, such as a poorly developed sub-plot involving Skeeter and her boyfriend (Chris Lowell), that's left dangling without any clear resolution.  

Negotiating his way some tough tonal territory, relatively unknown director Tate Taylor keeps the pace moving breezily along for almost two and a half hours, while the production, costume design and cinematography succeed in creating a feel for the setting and period. Given all the complaints I heard before seeing it, you'd figure the film toppled Gone With The Wind in its stereotypical depiction of black maids in the south, but these two characters are way too well written and performed to even jokingly warrant such a comparison. They're strong, brave women trying to improve their situation, not helpless caricatures.

I know it's generally frowned upon for a critic to even react to the reaction of others to a film, but getting to it so late and hearing so many accusations beforehand, there really wasn't much choice. I'll admit it probably doesn't bode well for its shelf life that I had to work this hard defending it. Great movies should be enthusiastically praised without reservation rather than defended with a laundry list of excuses of why it isn't as bad as everyone says it is, followed by an apology. And because the filmmakers took this lighter approach it just simply won't stay in the mind as long as something with more substance to it. That's no one's fault, just an inevitability when the decision was made in the pre-production stage to remain faithful to the source material. I understand and even appreciate many of the criticisms leveled against it, but at the same time there's no denying the on screen results are above average in every possible category. The unusual rating above comes from sensing this is exactly the kind of movie I'll forget about it in less than a month, if I haven't already. Or maybe I'm just kind of disturbed only half a star would separate this from the very best, putting it on par with films that actually do dig deeper. Either way, it seems those most offended by The Help are more against the idea of it being made in the first place, which becomes another issue altogether. In this case, approaching a movie for what it is rather than what it isn't, is a tip some critics could have taken from audiences.