To Leslie

Director: Michael Morris
Starring: Andrea Riseborough, Allison Janey Marc Maron, Andre Royo, Owen Teague, Stephen Root, James Landry Hebert, Matt Lauria
Running Time: 119 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

There's no mistaking the fact that Michael Morris' To Leslie is all about its gut-wrenching lead turn from English actress Andrea Riseborough as a destitute, alcoholic single mother who squandered her lottery payout. We're shown the consequences, after she's pushed away family and friends, still struggling to escape a tarnished reputation and cycle of self-inflicted emotional punishment. There's actually not much to the story, with a plot comparable to any number of low-budget indie dramas focusing on similarly tortured characters. And yet due to its disarming honesty this still feels like a wake-up call in the midst of bigger, more attention-grabbing releases. The surprises are minimal because the plot doesn't require them, excelling instead by serving up an unflinching look at what's become of this woman's life and why. 

As a low-key character study, this hits familiar notes, but has a lived-in quality stays with you, making it easier to understand why Riseborough pulled out all the stops in drawing eyes to a film and performance that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. With a career built on how anonymously she slides into each role, this is her biggest disappearing act, bolstered in part by a co-star who hasn't gotten nearly the attention he deserves. All of this would seem tired or cliched without the power these performances breathe into the material, resulting in one of the more painfully realistic recent takes on alcoholism depicted onscreen.

When Leslie Rowlands (Riseborough) won $190,00 in a West Texas lottery six years ago it was supposed to cure all her personal and financial troubles. Instead, she blew it on liquor and is now a penniless alcoholic living out of motels, roaming the streets and hitting bars. After being kicked out of her latest residence, she reunites with estranged 20 year-old son James (Owen Teague), who agrees to let her move in with him provided she doesn't drink and looks for a job. Their arrangement barely lasts a day, with Leslie hitting the bottle again and spiraling downward.

Old friend Nancy (Allison Janey) and her boyfriend Dutch (Stephen Root) temporarily allows Leslie to stay with them, but they're quickly fed up with the late night boozing and send her packing. After being found sleeping outside the local motel, its manager Sweeney (Marc Maron) offers her work and a free room, much to owner Royal's (Andre Royo) disapproval. Generous and patient with his new employee, Sweeney gives Leslie what could be a last chance at getting sober and changing her life's direction. But with a town full of people constantly reminding her of the past, it'll be an uphill battle.

Leslie's gone completely off the deep end, but what really stands out are everyone's reactions to her. Son James is forced to be the parent, disciplining and caring for his mom as if she's a child, while others choose to either ignore the embarrassing public displays, enable her, or just express a mixture of sometimes justifiable pity and anger. Sweeney is the only one to offer help without judgment, a reaction that at least partially stems from his own history. But the problem is that Leslie's already been given chances and couldn't stay sober long enough to capitalize on them, manipulating those closest to her to feed this ongoing addiction. 

In one particularly humiliating scene, Leslie gets wasted at her hometown bar and publicly acts out, oblivious to how it's being received. And while you do sympathize with her frustrated son, there's a whole contingent of bored, miserable townsfolk more than willing to rub her nose in it. Sweeney's the exception in that he's almost too trusting, sticking himself out there for Leslie in ways that could personally and professionally damage him. Maron impresses as this lonely, benevolent man whose interest in her plight is genuine, even as he second guesses the practicality of his risky commitment. 

Maron makes for an ideal sparring partner, delivering his most natural, low-key screen work thus far, elevating Riseborough in the process. Speaking with a Texas twang and appearing almost unrecognizably gaunt and disheveled, she somehow conveys Leslie's plight without resorting to histrionics or showy mannerisms. The character puts on a show, but it's a tragic one, through which you see glimpses of a better person occasionally peeking through. 

Beyond getting sober, the toughest part for Leslie is reconciling the awful choices she's made with where she is now, admitting she deserves help before betting on herself to accept it. The film opens with home video footage of her lottery win, and while the amount isn't a colossal windfall, her reaction reveals just how big a difference it could have made. Beaming enthusiastically about goals and plans that never come to pass, the money ultimately proves to be more of a curse than any kind of life improving reward.

Writer Ryan Binaco (whose tightly woven script is partially inspired by his own relationship with his mother) shows how Leslie continues to run from that lotto victory while struggling to regain whatever hope it once represented. The ending is somewhat convenient but earned, providing a tangible glimmer of hope she'll now have to follow through on. But regardless of how depressing it may be to revisit, To Leslie is still somewhat of a hard luck redemption story, bolstered by a performance that ensures the film won't be so easily forgotten.                     

Liberal Arts

Director: Josh Radnor
Starring: Josh Radnor, Elizabeth Olsen, Richard Jenkins, Allison Janey, John Magaro, Elizabeth Reaser, Zac Efron
Running Time: 97 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Any fears that writer/director/star Josh Radnor's Liberal Arts would hit uncomfortably close to home for me wiped away during the first half-hour when 35 year-old New York college admissions counselor Jesse Fisher (Radnor) laughs and rolls around in the grass upon returning to his alma mater in Ohio. It's a relief when the movie does eventually hit on the truth that returning to your college at any point after graduating can be awkward, uncomfortable experience that isn't the slightest bit welcoming despite how much you may have enjoyed your time there. Once college is over, it's done. The best case scenario is you take what you've learned and the experiences you've had and carry them with you for the rest of your days to positively inform your actions and decisions as an adult. That's not exactly what's happened for Jesse (Radnor) who jumps at the opportunity to return for the retirement ceremony of his second favorite professor, Peter Holberg (Richard Jenkins).

Obsessed with literature and the arts, Jesse's mind had never really left so returning is almost a formality at this point. But it won't be the same. Not by a long shot. It's to Radnor's credit that his script acknowledges that but then somewhere along the line it loses me and it starts to become a movie written by someone trying to send a message rather than stay true to the characters.We knew the message we were going to get going in and it's unquestionably the right one, but I just didn't care for the way Radnor delivered it. What starts as a highly relatable personal journey of self-discovery ends up giving too many easy answers for the more challenging questions the film intelligently asks.

At times I felt almost bludgeoned over the head with its black and white philosophizing which is a real a shame considering the more honest feelings it subtly invoked. It kind of becomes a mess in the third act, but at least it's a fascinating one that has something to say and proves that Radnor definitely has a promising filmmaking future ahead of him when (if?) How I Met Your Mother ends. His forseeable acting future could be taken up playing characters within in the same general realm of his lovelorn, super sensitive Ted Mosby but that's okay. I really like that character and consider Radnor a likable, underrated actor capable of delivering performances that may end up being even better than the really good one he gives here. Because of the rather obvious similarities between Ted and Jesse you wouldn't necessarily be wrong in calling this Ted Mosby: The Movie, and from where I sit there's nothing necessarily wrong with that either. Nor is the fact that Elisabeth Olsen's Zibby ends up being the latest addition into the "Manic Pixie Dream Girl" canon. If you look up the very definition of the term there's likely to be a picture of  Zibby right there next to it as it would be difficult to find a character that better exemplifies that infamous (and sometimes unfairly derided) movie trope. But let's be honest. Did anyone really expect Radnor to make a film without a MPDG? I'd almost be disappointed if he didn't. What I don't like are those characters being discarded by the screenplay once they've served their purpose, rendering them practically pointless aside from their role as a life message deliverer.

Certain character types exist because they work when effectively executed and the real reason the MPDG gets more flack than other more insulting stereotypes has to do with the fact that it hits a rather embarrassing nerve for guys, depicting them as insecure and needing to have their lives saved by a woman. Or rather a girl. A free-spirited one who doesn't care a single iota about any issues or flaws they may have. Like any screenwriting creation it's shaded in a certain amount of truth. And also like any, there are good and bad depictions that primarily depend on the integrity of the surrounding narrative. As far as these things go, Olsen's Libby, the 19-year-old daughter of one of Prof. Holberg's colleagues, makes for a textbook MPDG who's smart, pretty and seemingly mature beyond her years. And that's not to mention the fact she writes letters. On actual paper. A real keeper. The only drawback is that she reads Twilight, which horrifies Jesse (and me). While I don't recall that the books are never implicitly mentioned by name it's clear what they're talking about and it soon becomes this hilarious symbol of their age difference and an opportunity for Radnor to go into full Mosby mode, giving a snobby, pretentious speech about how its popularity represents America's declining tastes. It's a fun scene.

Compelling, the film burns through much of its story in the first 25 minutes only to pleasantly reveal that it's just getting started. The meat of their relationship takes place by mail, making it even harder for Jesse to stay away this time. They do seem made for each other which is why it gets so frustrating when Radnor the writer attempts to undercut that in favor of delivering his well-intentioned, but poorly realized message. While there's undeniably a lot wrong with a 35 year-old guy getting involved with a 19-year-old girl and creeping around the dorm and attending parties, Radnor underestimates how good he and Olsen are together at selling something that comes off as the complete opposite. So attempts later to turn this into an American Beauty or Lolita-like situation fall flat because certain plot developments feel overwritten. And it sure doesn't help the cause of his goal that the two of them look around the same age despite Radnor being considerably older. At points the movie is so relentless in its morality it seems like he's trying to have his cake and eat it too by depicting this magical, once-in-a-lifetime connection before telling audiences, "Oh wait, shame on YOU. It's wrong." Without spoiling too much, I'll say that Jesse does (or rather doesn't) do something I just couldn't buy. Well, I could buy it, but it felt manufactured to teach a lesson and stands in stark contrast to his actions leading up it. Then sub-plots are piled on top of it and an entire separate story is tagged on involving a bookstore clerk (played by Elizabeth Reaser) that's actually kind of insulting in its obviousness.

The movie's best scenes are on campus with Jesse and Zibby talking and just hanging out. It feels real and Olsen proves she's capable of going to the opposite end of the spectrum as the brainwashed cult follower she darkly portrayed in Martha Marcy May Marlene. As a director Radnor perfectly captures the very specific feeling of a small liberal arts school at that point in someone's life without missing a beat, as well as the wild array of supporting characters you'd encounter there. The great Richard Jenkins serves as the film's sturdy anchor with his heartfelt performance as the retiring Holberg, who's not quite sure he's ready to leave or what to do with himself once he does. His attempts to hang on as long as possible mirror Jesse's and their bond feels like a honest one. Far less successful is a sub-plot involving his old romantics professor, the cold, detached Judith Fairfield (Allison Janey) who seems to exist as a bitch on wheels plot device to provide final act shock value rather than an actual human. Surprisingly, Zac Efron is really effective in a small role as a campus stoner trying to get Jesse to embrace the spontaneity of life while John Magaro impresses as a depressed, emotionally disturbed student he takes under his wing.

Radnor supposedly based this script off a visit he made to his alma mater of Kenyon College in Ohio while promoting his directorial debut a couple of years ago and the strange feelings it invoked. I almost feel guilty not recommending it since I'm a big fan of the actor and it definitely strikes a chord but a story like this can't for a second feel overplotted and needs some room to breathe. All the scenes with he and Olsen are gold and after the first 40 minutes or so you really think this is going somewhere deep, only to just pull back and handle everything with kid gloves.As unfair as it is, I couldn't help but compare it to the all-time greatest college-set dramedy, 2000's Wonder Boys, which tackles a similar topic, but appears to do so effortlessly by showing instead of telling. Or in this case lecturing. While it all doesn't quite come together, I'd still rather watch this again than some better movies that don't screw up as interestingly. It's at least clear coming out of this that Radnor will at some point make a great film. This just wasn't it, too often coming across as overly sensitive and eager to please as its protagonist.

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.