Killing Them Softly

Director: Andrew Dominick
Starring: Brad Pitt, Scoot McNairy, Ben Mendelsohn, Richard Jenkins, James Gandolfini, Ray Liotta, Sam Shepard, Vincent Curatola
Running Time: 97 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Then-Presidential candidate Barack Obama and former President George W. Bush are seen or heard so many times in the 2008-set gangster drama Killing Them Softly that they could reasonably share top billing with Brad Pitt and no one would think anything of it. Hardly a scene goes by where they're not either on the radio delivering a speech or stumping for themselves on TV. It's obvious what director Andrew Dominik was going for with his repeated attempts to connect the U.S. economic crisis of six years ago to the state of organized crime, even going so far as to update the setting of George V. Higgins' 1974 novel, Cogan's Trade, to do it. Too obvious. That it seems to be the only thing worth talking about speaks volumes about how distractingly prominent it is, which is a shame because the film isn't without its virtues and actually starts off really well. At best, it's an interesting experiment that again proves Brad Pitt isn't afraid to take chances, but it just runs out of narrative steam after a while, hardly amounting to much by the time the closing credits arrive.

It's the fall of 2008 and a whiny, "in over his head" Frankie (Scoot McNairy) and drug addict Russell (Ben Mendolsohn) are recruited by Mafia boss Johnny "Squirrel" Amato to hold up and rob Markie Trattman's (Ray Liotta) poker room. Since Markie robbed his own game to earn insurance money before with no repercussions, Squirrel figures he'd just be suspected again without getting off as easy this time around. Everything seems to go off without a hitch until hitman Jackie Cogan (Pitt) is tipped off by a mob informant (Richard Jenkins) about what went down and he makes it it his mission to whack the party responsible, which isn't good news for Squirrel, Frankie, Russell, or even the falsely implicated Markie. He enlists the help of hitman Mickey Fallon (James Gandolfini) to get the job done, but things get a little more complicated than expected.  

When director Andrew Dominik focuses solely on the task at hand in developing this story and its characters, the results are surprisingly successful, especially in the film's engaging opening hour. When he turns his attention to overt symbolism and attempts to draw broad parallels between the country's financial collapse due to a lack of oversight and the political hiearachy within organized crime, the film fails miserably. Besides the comparison itself being somewhat of a stretch (at least in the context it's presented), Dominick just won't give the idea a rest, even when the heavy-handed allegorical flashiness is clearly detrimental, if not completely at odds, with the inherent grittiness of the material. The filmmakers probably would have been better off just setting this in 1974 and calling it Cogan's Trade since it does seem like that's what they really wanted to do the whole time, with the script basically shouting for it at points. If it's any relief, Roberta Flack's 70's hit does not at any point make a soundtrack appearance but the film's title is referenced through a memorable dialogue exchange that at least offers somewhat of a clue as to its meaning. I was satisfied, if completely unsurprised, by the explanation. But least that has more to do with an emotional crisis than a financial one.     

A lot of interesting things occur within the opening hour, too many of them under-cut with reminders that IT'S 2008 AND THERE'S A PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION COMING UP. In case you haven't heard. And hear you will. During the big hold-up. In the mobster's car radios. Everywhere. Do mobsters listen to talk radio? No matter. In this film they do it non-stop just so we get the message. The sad part is that most everything else works until the half-way point. President Bush's TV cameo aside, the big hold-up scene crackles with intensity and Scoot McNairy (who's the real lead here) is as impressive in this as we was in Argo last year, and just as unrecognizable as the bumbling, child-like Frankie. You almost feel sorry for a guy so clearly playing out of his league, while his partner in crime Russell is well played by a scary Mendelsohn as an  unpredictably dangerous wildcard.

Pitt's role is much smaller than ads let on but also a lot cooler and more calculated, dressed in all black and making his intro to Johnny Cash's "The Man Comes Around." He makes a co-starring part seem larger and more important than it should on the strength of his charisma, used to menacing effect as Cogan. This also marks one of the final supporting performances in what was the increasingly prolific big screen career of the late James Gandolfini. And I'm glad there's still a few films of his still coming down the pike because he's much better than what he's saddled with here. As an aging, hot-headed hitman addicted to drugs and hookers he goes toe-to-toe with Pitt and more than holds his own, even if I'm completely uncertain as to the character's purpose in the story. It's right around this point that the film starts spinning its wheels and eventually limps over the finish line without much to show for it.  

Less a crime drama than a thematic bludgeoning, the character-centric moments of Killing Them Softly are subtle, and at times even masterful.  It's just a shame most of that is masked under a heavy load of pretension and overt symbolism. Being someone who's generally no big fan of mob movies in general, I was surprised how well the crime component played for me and how much potential it had, despite a myriad of issues that seemed fixable with a re-write or two. It was also impossible to market this as a "guy movie" since there's very little action to speak of and hardly a woman to be found. Even with a trimmed running time, calling this a tough sell is an understatement. Cited as a rare flop for Pitt, it isn't as worthless as you've heard, and at least undeserving of the "F" cinemascore rating thrust upon it by dejected audiences expecting an action thriller from the star. This is about as far from that as it gets, its meditative tone and style more closely resembling a crime film released in 1974 than 2008 or 2012. That's its biggest strength. Its weaknesses are scattered almost everywhere else, with its admittedly silly title actually representing the least of its problems. 

Where The Wild Things Are

Director: Spike Jonze
Starring: Max Records, Catherine Keener, Mark Ruffalo, Lauren Ambrose, Chris Cooper, Paul Dano, James Gandolfini, Catherine O' Hara, Forest Whitaker
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: PG

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

There may be no bigger burden on a filmmaker than adapting a popular work of literature that's already ingrained in the public's conscience. That burden is doubled when that work happens to be a beloved children's classic passed from generation to generation over the past few decades. Everyone always has an opinion about what would make for a "faithful" adaptation. It's only natural those of all ages who grew up on Maurice Sendak's 1963 picture book Where The Wild Things Are would feel as protective of it as their own childhood and be perfectly content if it were never adapted into feature film form. That's why you could hear a collective sigh of relief when it was announced the the filmmaker attached to the project would be Spike Jonze, the quirky genius behind mind trips like Being John Malkovich and Adaptation. That relief soon turned to horror when it landed in theaters late last year with a thud and flopped commercially. The biggest complaint: How dare Jonze adapt this world famous children's book and have the nerve to not even aim it at kids?

Those who thought they wanted an inventive, mature interpretation of the material should have known the commitment that would entail as audience members and the sacrifices the studio would have to make to do that. One of those was not making a children's movie. That's not to say it's inappropriate for small kids or that they shouldn't watch it, but this wasn't necessarily made for them.  Instead, Jonze was more interested in making a movie ABOUT childhood and the pain, sadness and confusion that can accompany it, especially for kids with overactive imaginations. More than that though, it's about the child in all of us that fades away as we enter a world full of responsibilities and burdens. If you're lucky enough, a small piece of that kid hangs on for the ride. That small piece is immortalized in Max's journey And what's most surprising is that Jonze saw something even darker in the material than what was on the page. He obviously felt a commitment that transcended mere adaptation, if not rendering the idea completely irrelevant altogether.

What the film has in common with the 10 sentences on which it's based on is that both lack a substantial plot. The opening minutes represent an excellent microcosm of what to expect throughout the movie as that feeling of warm childhood nostalgia is quickly replaced with isolation and melancholy in a reminder that growing up can be difficult...especially for a boy like Max (Max Records). With an absent father, a seemingly uncaring sister (Pepita Emmerichs) and a mother preoccupied with her career and new boyfriend, the 9-year-old lets his imagination run wild. After a temper tantrum he runs away and discovers the island of the wild things. That's a major deviation from the book that loyalists have complained about, even if I'm at a loss as to why. Changing the means by which he arrives in this new world neither adds nor detracts from the story and while I can appreciate complaints this method is less imaginative, I wouldn't want it attempted if the visual effects can't believably project it onscreen.

Upon his arrival Max is anointed the "king of all wild things" by this strange group of six large, furry creatures that have serious problems co-existing and have bought into the idea that he has magical powers that can help. His first order of business is to declare a wild rumpus but as tension mounts Max discovers that controlling and leading his new family isn't all fun and games. The whole thing is a strange trip where nothing much happens, yet everything happens. Most of the film consists of Max hanging out with these creatures and having a great time until cracks start to form in the relationship and the story really starts to enter darker territory. It turns from a wild rumpus into a cutthroat game of social politics not unlike something you'd expect to see on Survivor. They doubt his leadership and the cracks in the family's relationship can't be so easily fixed. His burgeoning friendship with the miscreant of the wild things, Carrol (brilliantly voiced by James Gandolfini), becomes most strained of all mainly because they're so much alike. But that's not say his interactions with the bickering Ira and Judith (Forest Whitaker and Catherine O' Hara), ignored Alexander (Paul Dano) and flighty K.W. (Lauren Ambrose) is all smooth sailing.

Above all else, this is really a film about a child's anger and how it manifests itself in the form of his imagination so it's understandable this wouldn't make for the most family friendly experience. But that's definitely in line with the themes of the book and the look and feel of this world created onscreen by Jonze is something we've never seen before, or if we have, it sure hasn't been very common this decade. There's a minimum of computer generated effects and the muppet-like monsters are all actually actors in suits provided by Jim Henson's Creature Shop. All I can say to that is "FINALLY." Finally, a filmmaker understands that CGI is not the way to go for this kind of a story and animatronics looks about a thousand times better and more believable. As if a side-by-side comparison of Frank Oz's Yoda in the Empire Strikes Back and that embarrassing looking computer generated thing that appeared in the prequels didn't prove that point already. CGI can be used well but most of the time it isn't and creates an effect similar to that of bad plastic surgery, where instead of improving the appearance of what's on screen, it just draws attention to the fact you're watching something that looks fake. The decision to take this approach made the film for me and the entire look and feel of the world recalls treasured family classics like The Neverending Story and the Henson-directed The Dark Crystal, both of which depend on the childlike thrill of imagination rather than bludgeoning viewers with special effects, although the level of technical craft is obviously much higher here.

The movie's magical trailer hinted at that and this is one of those rare cases where the final product not only lives up to the expectations of those 2 minutes, but actually exceeds them. Lance Accord's cinematography and Karen O's score just enhance the movie's trippy, other-worldly atmosphere with the only small complaint on the musical side being the absence of Arcade Fire's "Wake Up," if only because it was employed so brilliantly in the trailer that in my mind it almost already seemed like an important part of the film. The visuals or music never overwhelm, allowing the great performances plenty breathing room. The best belongs to a revelatory Max Records as young Max who perfectly conveys the many emotional shifts required for the moody protagonist. Since he escapes to the island of the wild things fairly early into the picture, Catherine Keener is limited in her screen time but still brings so much to the role of a mother who loves her son but feels overwhelmed by her life and his behavior. The wild things are just as fully realized by the actors under the suits, especially Gandolfini, who at times does seem to incorporate a little of Tony Soprano (or at least his short fuse) into the sensitive humanity of Max's new best friend, Carrol.

Jonze deserves credit for sticking by his vision, as does Warner Bros. for having the guts to release a film that didn't dumb Sendak's ideas down to make a more family friendly product. While that would have probably resulted in much bigger bank at the box office, it would do so at the expense of preserving the integrity of the material. Max finds that he can't escape the problems of growing up through his imagination and the world and creatures he creates in his own head can't make the confusion go away. Only he can. The film may be dark but it isn't depressing as proven by the wordless final scene that's just about as perfect an encapsulation of Sendak's creation as could possibly be. Will kids enjoy it? Maybe, but as far as I'm concerned that issue is irrelevant. Where The Wild Things Are is is really for adults who remember what it's like to be a kid and haven't lost the ability to see and appreciate the world through their eyes.