Inside Llewyn Davis

Directors: Joel and Ethan Coen
Starring: Oscar Isaac, Carey Mulligan, John Goodman, Garrett Hedlund, Justin Timberlake, F. Murray Abraham, Stark Sands, Adam Driver, Max Casella, Ethan Phillips
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

The biggest surprise about Inside Llewyn Davis is just how narrow its focus is. The title should have probably been our first clue. This is a character study to the core. And it's a difficult, challenging one we should have known was coming since it's from the Coen brothers. And that will still don't see it coming is the greatest thing about it. What's surprising is just how unconventional it is, even by their standards. Anyone expecting an overview of the early 60's Greenwich Village folk scene and spoon fed warm, fuzzy feelings of nostalgia associated that period should probably search elsewhere. Which isn't to say they don't nail the time period completely in look, sound and everything else accompanying it. There is one brush with history, and while it's a big one, it's handled so nonchalantly that it hardly draws attention to itself. The Coens have nothing to prove. No one to impress. They just know exactly what they're doing, even when we haven't the slightest clue. Sometimes it's best to just trust the audience to figure things out.

Despite its subject being loosely based on late folk singer Dave Van Ronk (and his posthumously published 2005 memoir, The Mayor of MacDougal Street) this isn't Van Ronk biopic. That his ex-wife has criticized the film for being untruthful or inaccurate makes little sense considering it's not about him. By all accounts, Van Ronk was a well-liked guy with few (or any) of the problems this protagonist deals with. It's the trajectory of his career that provides the inspiration more than anything else. He's the jumping off point. Fame may have eluded him, but he wasn't a failure. Inside Llewyn Davis is all about failure and what it means. Or rather how thin the line separating failure and success can be. There were many more Dave Van Ronks than Bob Dylans, which makes one wonder if some strange combination of luck, opportunity, skill, timing or motivation caused the former to fade into obscurity while the latter became a legend? The film doesn't attempt to make sense of that because you can't. The Coens wisely choose not to try, and by doing that, somehow do.  

At one point Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac) is told, rather pointedly, that he doesn't have the innate charisma or connection with the audience to ever become a successful solo act in the business. It's clearer to us even earlier that he just might not have the ability to connect with people at all in any capacity. Llewyn was one half of a semi-popular folk duo with musical partner, Mike Timlin (sung by Mumford and Sons' Marcus Mumford), who killed himself jumping off the George Washington Bridge. At this rate, he's headed in the same direction, with his life stuck in an endless loop of mooching off friends who probably should have stopped tolerating him a while ago. What's saddest and darkly comical about the situation is how talented he actually is and how little that seems to matter.

The film's opening, in which he sings a gut-wrenching rendition of "Hang Me, Oh Hang Me" at the Gaslight wins us over immediately, and we'll stay on his side even as it's clear later the lengths he'll go to squander that potential. His manager isn't paying him. His sister hates him. And now he's stuck with an orange cat belonging to his friends the Gorfeins, whose Upper West Side apartment he's just crashed at. But his most fractured relationship is with folk singer and ex-flame Jean (Carey Mulligan), who he impregnated in spite of her being married to good friend Jim (Justin Timberlake). Short on money and with a solo recording deal far out of reach, Llewyn has to choose between what he considers "selling out" to pursue a music career, or abandoning it altogether. What's so tragicomic is how he somehow finds a way to royally screw up both options. He's just one of those guys where nothing he does seems to go right no matter how hard he tries. And, admittedly, he isn't even trying very hard since he doesn't care, or maybe cares a little too much, with very few definitive actions backing it up.

It's one hilarious catastrophe after the next that leads him to desperately take Timberlake's Jim up on his invitation to join he and Al Cody (Adam Driver) to record a goofy, folk-pop song called "Please, Mr. Kennedy." A lot has already been said and written about the scene and song being the film's defining (and funniest) moment, and it is, but it's interesting to look at it from the perspective of what qualified as embarrassingly bad commercial music that appealed to the masses in the early '60's. The real irony might be that the ridiculously catchy, borderline brilliant song is about ten times better than anything that would even pass as legitimately good pop music today. It really isn't bad, but the performances from the three actors as they discuss and prepare to deliver it in the scene's context makes it seem like the silliest song ever written. In any other context, it's amazing. But Llewyn is truly mortified having to perform it, before unintentionally sabatoging what could have been his only big payout with a lack of business acumen.

As much action that takes place in a time specific New York, the strangest section of the film actually occurs on the way to Chicago, as Llewyn hitches a ride with a James Dean-like beat poet named Johnny Five (Garrett Hedlund) and his passenger, the cranky, belligerent jazz musician Roland Turner (John Goodman, in top form), who spends the entire road trip hurling insults and telling nonsensical stories. I'm guessing this is the place where the movie probably loses a lot of perplexed audience members, but anyone familiar with the Coens work will instantly recognize it as the most Coen-like part of this whole absurd, but strangely moving adventure that's brimming at the rim with eccentric characters.

The casting of Oscar Isaac was a masterstroke because we don't really know who he is and doesn't bring the baggage a bigger, more established name would. Watching him as Llewyn is like seeing (and of course listening) to him for the first time, since few are likely to even recognize the actor from his supporting roles in movies like Drive. He's the star of the show playing a depressed character who lacks the charisma and drive to ever be the star of the show. Think how difficult that must be. And yet, against all odds, he manages to make this selfish, angry guy completely likable every step of the way. There wasn't a moment I wasn't rooting for him to pull out of this rut, even as the chances of that continue to diminish with each passing disaster. And boy can Isaac ever sing. I'd say he should release a folk album but he already did. It's the soundtrack to this movie which, top to bottom, feels like a legitimate folk release from the early '60's. Everyone in this does their own singing with famed producer T-Bone Burnett again turning in revelatory work by seamlessly replicating the music of the period.

In a way, it also feels like we're discovering the better known Carey Mulligan for the first time since seeing her play a morose, angry character who curses like a sailor would seem about a thousand paces removed for her if not for the added layer of vulnerability she infuses her with. Timberlake, as usual, proves there are few limits to what he can do as a performer in any medium, as it's unlikely anyone suspected he'd be able to believably portray one half of a folk duo with Mulligan and that they'd look and sound so authentic.

"Play me something from Inside Llewyn Davis," requests record producer Bud Grossman (F. Murray Abraham) when the singer arrives to meet him in Chicago. Llewyn responds by pouring his heart out with the beautifully depressing "The Death of Queen Jane," an eerily appropriate song selection given his current state. It's only upon reflection that this becomes the most important scene of the film, likely stinging quite a bit for anyone who's suffered for their art, been judged, or faced the pain of rejection. So basically everyone. Ultimately, does it matter whether this producer thinks there's any "money" in this? Are his criticisms valid or is he just on a power trip at Llewyn's expense? One could argue that if he truly had the passion and fire in his belly to see this through then it wouldn't have mattered to him one bit what this producer thought. If he loved making music he wouldn't he continue doing it, even if it meant temporarily finding another means of income? That's the big question mark. His talent is not.

A big fuss has been made by some about how a big a jerk this character is, but so was Bob Dylan, and we liked him. So that can't be it. History is written by the winners, even if the losers are often losers for a reason. Llewyn isn't quite as unlikable as he's been accused, or even as unlikable as some of the other characters he shares this Greenwich Village universe with. He's just badly floundering. Defeated by life and himself. The film's ending (which I won't dare spoil here) almost seems like a cruel (but wickedly hilarious) cosmic joke, reminding us that sometimes it really is only about being at the right place at the right time. And a bunch of other cards lining up just right. None of them have for this guy, partially by his own doing. The film does this loopy thing with time, folding over on itself and suggesting he may never break out of this cycle, opening up what was a relatively simple story for a variety of differing interpretations.

Admittedly it takes a while for this whole experience to settle in because there's so much more going on than first appears on the surface and I'm still not sure I've processed all of it. That final scene is a real zinger. We like to be on the winning team and watching movies about success make us feel good. But the few movies made about failure usually end up being deeper and more interesting. There are a limited number of ways to achieve, but no bounds to the amount of seemingly improbable ways someone can't. Llewyn Davis has most of them covered, and in showing that, the Coens give us exactly the '60's folk film we didn't know we wanted, or even necessarily deserved.

Trouble with the Curve

Director: Robert Lorenz
Starring: Clint Eastwood, Amy Adams, Justin Timberlake, Matthew Lillard, John Goodman, Robert Patrick, Scott Eastwood
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

When aging baseball scout Gus Lobel says a player looks good "on paper" you better believe he knows what he's talking about. No one has more paperwork since he refuses to rely on computers or even statistics to his job. But considering he's played by Clint Eastwood, you probably could have guessed that already. He's old school, as is the film's approach to sports recruiting. Trouble with the Curve could easily be his anti-Moneyball, if not for the fact that for the first time since 1993's In The Line of Fire, he's acting in a film he didn't actually direct. Taking over the reigns with mixed results is his longtime assistant director and producer Robert Lorenz, who puts his mentor front and center. And yet despite appearing in every scene, it still doesn't really feel like Eastwood's film. This is light, popcorn entertainment with the actor's performance playing as kind of a Grumpy Old Men version of his bitter, ornery Gran Torino character, minus the racial and ethnic slurs. It does some things well, and a few more wrong, but it's not exactly the disaster many have made it out to be, suffering more for its theatrical release coinciding with the actor's infamous Republican convention speech last November. Of course, that was blown way out of proportion by the media, undeserving of being remembered as anything other than a tiny blip on his storied career. He's earned that much, even if this effort still doesn't quite add up to much more than the sum of its parts. But if interviews implying that this could be his final acting appearance hold true, we can at least be grateful it's no Welcome To Mooseport.

With his contract up in three months, legendary Atlanta Braves' scout Gus refuses to see the handwriting on the wall. Now in his twilight years and with rapidly deteriorating eyesight, management may not extend his contract despite his best friend and boss Pete (John Goodman) doing everything he can to convince them otherwise. But Gus has a major, "can't miss" prospect to check out in North Carolina, and much to his displeasure, Pete convinces his workaholic lawyer daughter Mickey (Amy Adams) to join him on the trip, which evolves into an extended therapy session for both. With Mickey distracted by a potential promotion to partner at work and still harboring resentment toward her dad for abandoning her as a child and Gus in full denial about his declining health, their few moments of bonding come from their shared love of baseball. While there, they run into the charismatic Johnny Flanagan (Justin Timberlake) a former player Gus recruited who's now a scout for the Red Sox angling for a job in the broadcast booth. While scouting the kid he takes a romantic interest in Mickey but Gus has bigger problems to worry about. If he screws this up, he's done for good.

It's difficult to watch this without memories of 2011's vastly superior Moneyball lingering in the background. What's compelling about the comparison is that while both films focus heavily on major league baseball scouting, they take completely opposite approaches. Eastwood's Gus may as well be one of the old, out-of-touch veterans who were mocked by Brad Pitt's Billy Beane in so many of that picture's most effective scenes. There was no point in management actually "scouting" anyone anymore, as the key to the A's success came from the sabermetric system of running player stats through a computer. Here, computers are viewed as creating a culture of laziness in baseball management, screwing teams up by recruiting the wrong players and costing wise, grizzled veterans like Gus their office jobs. This is exemplified with Matthew Lillard's sleazy Braves scout, a character who rather heavy-handedly represents the supposedly clueless new guard. In other words, a one-dimensional moron who knows nothing about baseball and lets his computer program do the work. That's a bit of a stretch, as is the assertion that an aging well traveled blind man is preferable. The truth probably lies somewhere in between in terms of statistics and experience and a narrative exploring would have been far more interesting than the one we get. Fair or not, that manipulation kept me from completely sympathizing with Gus when we're clearly meant to. Also odd is what a slog the action is considering there's more of an emphasis on actual scouting and recruiting at games as opposed to just analyzing statistics, a task Moneyball somehow found a way to make extremely exciting.

It all has kind of a lazy Sunday afternoon TV movie feel about it, only coming alive when Justin Timberlake arrives to share the screen with Amy Adams and Eastwood. He's ideal for the part of a cocky, but good-hearted former player who's career was cut short. He just nails it, making you wonder why he wasn't the protagonist since he certainly feels like one in scenes opposite Adams, with whom he has surprisingly great chemistry. Too bad the pacing of the relationship feels off, as it seems to take about an hour of screen time for those sparks to go anywhere, and by the time they do, we've checked out. Adams basically carries the whole movie bringing a considerable amount of depth her ice princess character and the usually hackneyed storyline of a father-hating daughter carrying emotional baggage. Without spoiling too much, when we're finally given an explanation for the rift between the two, it's in a flashback scene meant to pack a dramatic wallop, but instead had me howling with laughter. It plays like a bizarre cross between Equus and Dirty Harry. But that we even got a brief moment of bad-ass, old school Eastwood is reason enough to celebrate since the rest of the way through it does kind of feel like he's on autopilot, at times almost sending up his own image as an actor and icon.

For all it does wrong, this gets one really important thing right. There's this seemingly throwaway moment toward the middle of the picture with the obnoxious (and boy he's obnoxious) player Gus and Johnny are scouting that's strangely memorable, its full repercussions figuring into the conclusion in a surprising way. The way it returns, much like everything else in the third act, is probably a bit too convenient, but the underlying message of talent hiding anywhere isn't. Of course, a few more happy (if not completely earned) resolutions are also shoehorned into an ending that clumsily juggles personal and professional trials, before tying them up nicely with a bow. Ironically, the film is strongest when dealing with the personal drama and weaker in the professional department, namely everything involving Mickey's work problems back home, resulting in annoying, undramatic scenes with Adams' face buried in her phone, texting non-stop. The attempt join everything together at the end comes off as well as it can given the circumstances, even as Lorenz faces limitations imposed on him by an overstuffed script. Despite its predictability and the fact it has nothing particularly important to say, Trouble With The Curve is still a breezy watch, as there are far worse ways to kill two hours, especially for Eastwood fans who will probably feel obligated to see it. And they should. Just as long as they don't expect anything special.

In Time

Director: Andrew Niccol
Starring: Justin Timberlake, Amanda Seyfried, Cillian Murphy, Olivia Wilde, Alex Pettyfr, Vincent Kartheiser, Johnny Galecki
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

In Time hooked me at the first scene. Justin Timberlake's character gets up, goes into the kitchen and greets Olivia Wilde with a "Good morning, Mom." We're not hearing things. He calls her "mom" about three or four times before wishing her a happy 50th birthday and loans her an hour of "time" before heading out to work. That's great screenwriting. Within a minute we're already immersed in this world, as well as surprised, intrigued and not at all confused. No set-up necessary. We're already there. For its first hour, Andrew Niccol's In Time is in the zone. Not The Twilight Zone (though comparisons could be made), but that zone where nothing is going wrong. It's brimming with ideas and atmosphere, visually stimulating and at least for a while seems to have something deep to say. When movies deserving of a wide audience like this flop and the critics dismiss it there's an excited film geek in me that dies a little bit. Or least it did until the second hour came. It's still effective, but far less so if only because action movie commercialism intrudes into a story that doesn't need it. Those ideas that were flawlessly implied become a bit too literalized, resulting in a high-octane mash-up of Logan's Run and Bonnie and Clyde and a messy final act. It's reach definitely exceeds its grasp. I wish all mainstream sci-fi movies could have that problem.

In a dystopian future where people stop aging at 25 and must accumulate more time (displayed by a green counter on their arms) in order to remain alive, ghetto factory worker Will Salas (Timberlake) is on the run after being gifted 100 years by the wealthy Henry Hamilton (Matt Bomer), whom he saved in an attempted time robbery bar assault. Suddenly blessed (cursed?) with all this time, Will discovers the playing field between the "haves" and the "have nots" is more uneven than he imagined, with costs rising unreasonably as time accumulates, making the wealthy richer as the poor continue seeing their precious few minutes run out. Now a suspected murderer and time thief, Will's trailed by determined "Timekeeper" Raymond Leon (Cillian Murphy) as he enters the posh "time zone" of New Greenwich, where he kidnaps Sylvia (Amanda Seyfried), the beautiful daughter of millionaire businessman Phillipe Weis (Vincent Kartheiser). Having taken a more willing hostage than expected, Will must evade the Timekeeper as well as the mob of Minutemen led by elderly British crime boss Fortis (Alex Pettyfr), both of whom are after his time for very different reasons.

There are some sensational scenes dealing with the transfer of time and time running out throughout the entire film, which no one deny exploits its premise to a hilt. In a pulse-pounding one early on, a character's seconds are counting down in a literal race against time, their life depending on meeting someone fast enough to reload. In a smart, non-gory PG-13 manner, we can almost literally see life escaping the person's body as they flail helplessly to the ground after "timing out."  And take the introduction scene between Will and Sylvia, where it's cleverly pointed out that he can't be sure whether she's actually Philipe's daughter, sister or maybe even wife due to the strange situation of this world. Niccol's confident command over this world initially brings to mind something out of Blade Runner, A Brave New World, Dark City, or 1984. Unsurprisingly, Niccol wrote and directed 1997's terrific dystopian nightmare Gattaca and this looks and feels a lot like that. It's really a technical sight with stunning lens work from the great Roger Deakins and cool, futuristic production design from Alex McDowell. Craig Armstrong's score is unforgettably haunting, arguably of far greater quality than you'd usually expect attached to a film of this nature.

Being that you'd pretty much have to be under 25 to get cast in movies these days anyway, it seems to work perfectly that this film actually has a built-in, plot-related reason for stacking its cast with young actors. Justin Timberlake once again proves there's nothing he can't do by adding "action star" to his resume while Amanda Seyfried (resembling a short-haired porcelain doll) ends her recent string of fluffy flops with one of her most interesting turns yet, reminding us how she first became a star by giving an quiet, expressive performance in which see seems to only act with her saucer-sized eyes. With only a few crucial scenes White Collar's Matt Bomer makes a good case for why he was originally one of the top contenders to play the new Superman with a performance that could easily double as a Clark Kent audition reel. Based on those few minutes, I'd have hired him. Mad Men fans will be happy to know that Vincent Kartheiser gives what's probably the best big screen performance by a member of that cast so far. It's surprising how large the role is, how well he plays it, but also how natural a fit it seems for him. Primarily known for playing scary creeps, Cillian Murphy plays a character on the other side of the law this time, nobly committed to to a cause for a society with practices that are anything but noble. He's still playing a scary creep, but with some actual humanity  that he makes sure subtly seeps through.

There was some controversy this screenplay was plagiarized from legendary sci-fi author Harlan Ellison's short story, "Repent, Harlequin! Said the Ticktockman." Having read it years ago, I can't say that occurred to me once while watching this and apparently Ellison agreed since he dropped his intended lawsuit after seeing it. The entire picture is very much a tale of two movies, a victor and victim of its own brilliant premise, eventually undercut by a somewhat clumsy conclusion. The final ten minutes are particularly head scratching. If ever there's a time for a tragic ending, it's in a speculative story exactly like this. Any other direction feels like a cop-out. On the bright side, the tone remains consistent and it doesn't become a completely different movie that's untrue to its original conceit (like The Adjustment Bureau embarrassingly did), but it does point out the importance of being able to stick the landing. That In Time still comes off as an underrated achievement despite all this is a testament to the talent both behind and in front of the camera. It could have really been something special, and for a while there, it at least came very close.

Bad Teacher

Director: Jake Kasdan
Starring: Cameron Diaz, Justin Timberlake, Jason Segel, Lucy Punch, Phyllis Smith, John Michael
Higgins, Eric Stonestreet, Thomas Lennon 
Running Time: 92 min.
Rating: Unrated

★★ (out of ★★★★)

If Bad Santa took place in a classroom and was unfunny it would be called Bad Teacher. It goes without saying Cameron Diaz is no Billy Bob Thornton but after watching this I'm starting to wonder if that would have even helped. While her performance as disgusting, repulsive middle school teacher Elizabeth Halsey isn't anything to write home about, she can't shoulder too much of the blame. The film refuses to fully commit, merely going through the motions of a premise that should be smart and edgy, but instead becomes boringly repetitive. It's okay to have a depraved female protagonist carrying a comedy, but you better make her funny. And if she isn't, you better not try to redeem her. That's the worst offense right there.

After being dumped by her rich fiance, gold digger Elizabeth is forced to resume her teaching job at J.A.M.S. (John Adams Middle School) with the hope of earning enough for a boob job. Classes consist of her showing movies, smoking pot, cussing at students, napping and trying to get her claws into new, but somewhat goofy substitute teacher Scott Delacorte (Justin Timberlake). Appalled do-gooder Miss Squirrel (Lucy Punch) teaches across the hall while gym teacher Russell Gettis (Jason Segel) is clearly smitten with Elizabeth, but has no shot. Sweet, naive faculty member Lynn (Phyllis Smith) seems thrilled someone's hanging out with her. Principal Wally Snur (John Michael Higgins) has a chronic dolphin fetish and is completely clueless as to anything that's happening.  

The trailer for this (which oddly seemed to feature scenes not even present in the final cut) promises something that doesn't quite materialize. It promises Bad Santa. It delivers Bad Santa Lite. This isn't the the first time commercials made a crude comedy look edgier than it is but that doesn't make it any less disappointing that it's so by the numbers. Part of me wants to commend Diaz for diving into a project that deviates from your conventional female driven rom-com but the truth is this doesn't really differ from that at all. It's the same blueprint, just a little meaner. The character's motivations are so shallow and pointless, her schemes so unimaginative, that after a while I just lost energy rooting for a comeuppance that isn't in the cards. Though it's likely Lucy Punch's screechy Ms. Squirrel caused me to lose energy way before that.

The movie's saving grace are the other supporting players, especially a hilariously geeky Justin Timberlake, whose musical talents (and opinions on slavery and sharks) are put to good use. He's just as funny here as on SNL and supplies the few laughs there are. Jason Segel's role as Elizabeth's suitor is immensely underwritten and unrealized but at least he's good, milking it for all he can with limited screen time. They deserve better than this. So does the usually charismatic Diaz, even if she seems to be scraping the bottom of a barrel with her choices lately. You can probably count on one hand the number of actresses capable of creating laughs and rising above material like this (only Tina Fey, Ana Faris and Kristen Wiig come to mind) so she doesn't exactly need to hide her head in shame. The director, Jake Kasdan (Orange County, Walk Hard), has made some quality comedies in the past but Bad Teacher just feels thrown together and pedestrian. There are a number of nods to inspiring teacher movies like Stand and Deliver and Dangerous Minds, which only serve as a reminder that my time may have actually been better spent watching one of those preachy educational dramas. When those fail they're just painlessly cheesy. But when comedies do, it can be painful.

Five Favorite Scenes: The Social Network

As I keep digging into The Social Network Blu-ray (so how about that weird packaging and the brilliantly bizarre title menu?) I've come to the conclusion that if it wins Best Picture that's great, but if it doesn't, well then, that's fine too. The Academy has impressively avoided rewarding the most deserving film for the past 83 years so why start now? No validation is necessary here because this is far and away, hands down the best film of this past year or any other recent one and nothing even comes remotely close. Oscar or not. It's best just to celebrate the achievement on its own terms and remind oneself that Driving Miss Daisy won Best Picture. See? That feels better already. As we all know, losing might actually be the best thing for it. For all the controversy surrounding the truthfulness of the movie I think it says a lot about Time's "Person of the Year" Mark Zuckerberg for publicly being a good sport and taking this bullet like a man for the sake of his company. Aaron Sorkin's script loosely incorporates real facts into a semi-fictional work so damning it makes Oliver Stone's W. look like a tribute documentary and it wouldn't have taken but a phone call to his lawyers for Zuckerberg to stop this project altogether (or at least prevented the use of his name and Facebook's trademarks). But he didn't. Give him credit for being seemingly one of the few to actually grasp this is meant for entertainment. He had to be slandered and dragged through the mud for the film to work as well as it does.

Back in October, I attempted a somewhat objective assessment of the film knowing my time to rant and rave about its greatness would get here soon enough. So now it's here. Director David Fincher has gone on the record humbly insisting his film isn't as "important" as Zodiac and if we're going strictly by their topics, he's right.  Only movies are rarely about their actual topics. Such is the case with The Social Network, a film no one said could be made, based on a topic no one wanted to see explored on screen. The level of difficulty here was insurmountable. I'd say in terms of actual execution this feels more important than anything he's done so far. So, how did Sorkin and Fincher ever make a movie about Facebook? Well, for starters, they didn't. Ranked in non-chronological order below are my five favorite scenes/moments in the film, along with accompanying thoughts. Obviously, SPOILERS follow.

5. MEET SEAN PARKER 

This brief, but memorable scene toward the middle portion of the picture when the action moves to the West Coast marks the first onscreen appearance of Justin Timberlake as Napster founder Sean Parker. It also marks the first instance of applause erupting from the theater I saw it in (the second: the reveal of Mark Zuckerberg's "Ardsley Athletics" T-Shirt). Has there ever been a better character introduction? If I could pick one scene that exemplifies the strength of Sorkin's writing it would probably be this brief sequence. Even over the "Did I adequately answer your condescending question?" lawsuit deposition scenes. A strange statement, but I just love the way this whole exchange unfolds and doesn't take the predictable route you'd expect given the situation.

It's reasonable that Parker would know every little detail about Amy (Dakota Johnson) from Stanford because he's Sean Parker and he does his research. So there's a glimpse of actual common sense in a movie script. Yet somehow Sorkin writes the scene in such a way that she still seems right in step with him and doesn't come across as an airhead for not knowing who he is, or worse, just a slutty party girl who woke up as his latest conquest. Of course, he finds out about "Thefacebook" through someone else, which is typical, and sets the stage for his leech-like behavior later as a charismatic opportunist who sees his opening and takes it. It's easy to see how Zuckerberg fell under his spell and bought what he was selling and why the purely idealistic Eduardo would hate his guts. The more times I watch the film the better Timberlake's performance seems, dropping subtle clues that the likable but flawed Parker was destined all along to make that pathetic police station phone call to Zuckerberg at the end of the film because that's what always happens with him. We get our first glimpse of that here.

4. HARVARD CODE OF CONDUCT

One of the film's more exciting, overlooked aspects was being given full access to Harvard University without really being given access to Harvard, a setting we've really never seen fully exploited on screen before (let's not count 2001's Harvard Man). Fincher changes that, miraculously giving us a very specific sense of time and place without ever even filming at the actual location (Fincher was forced to use Wheelock College as a stand-in) and it's a feeling especially present in the opening campus scenes. The two self-professed "gentlemen of Harvard" who best exemplify this world and our preconceived notions of it are Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss, twin rowers who find their idea for a campus social networking site hijacked by Mark Zuckerberg. Supposedly the real twins were thrilled at their depiction in the film, which is hilarious on too many levels to list. Then again, everything involving the Winklevi is hilarious as played by Armie Hammer in the best depiction of preppy entitlement ever put to screen.

I like how Sorkin doesn't write them as villains or bullies, but hard-working guys who had an idea that really could have been stolen out from under them. And they've got a strong case, which leads to their meeting with clueless, hysterically patronizing Harvard President Larry Summers (Douglas Urbanski) in which they futilely attempt to convince him that Zuckerberg's in violation of Harvard's student "Code of Conduct." Their allegations sound as ridiculous to him as the idea of making a movie about them seemed to us. You could compile another separate list of the twins' greatest moments ("I'm 6'5, 220 and there's two of me!") but this scene best exemplifies how the actor immerses himself in two very different and distinct personalities. As dark and nasty as the film gets at times, Hammer insures that it's also a comedy.

3. RICH MAN

Leave it up to Fincher to somehow find the one Beatles song that hasn't been played out. In a career packed with memorable musical moments he always seems to pick just the right song and put it in the perfect place for maximum effect, but he outdoes himself here. You could argue that with Reznor and Ross' haunting score the entire picture is a musical moment unto itself (their brilliantly twisted version of "In The Hall of the Mountain King" during the twins' Henley Royal Regatta rowing race is obviously one of many highlights) but what else but the under-appreciated 1967 Beatles B-Side "Baby, You're A Rich Man" could possibly wrap up the conundrum that is Mark Zuckerberg, or at least the fictional version of him presented here.

The "likability" of the character, and his obsessive desire to be popular, is something that's returned to many times as we get the unofficial closer to his conversation with Erica at the bar, except this time in a conference room with attorney Marylin Delpy (Rashida Jones, getting to deliver that unforgettable final line).  He might end up as a billionaire but this Zuckerberg never cared about money at all which might be his only link to the real-life counterpart, making the ending song choice especially ironic. Sitting alone at the computer, pathetically refreshing the page to see if Erica accepts his friend request is also the least pathetic and most understandable choice Zuckerberg makes in the film, confirming the trace of humanity we suspected he had throughout.

2. THE BAR 

Supposedly, Fincher filmed 99 takes of this opening scene in the bar to knock all the acting out the two actors, which kind of makes sense when you consider they're delivering Sorkin's dialogue. Anyone who watched The West Wing or any of his other TV or film projects knows how wordy it is and how fast it needs to come out. If it it doesn't it can really sound like someone's reading from a script, which you obviously never want. The best thing about Eisenberg's performance is how he almost invisibly implies on his face all these emotions that his character seems incapable of even expressing to anyone.

As Erica, Rooney Mara has an even tougher job here, having to sell that she would even like and date this guy to begin with, then by the end of a single 8 minute conversation be believably fed up enough with his arrogant antics to just walk. She knows his game and won't stand for it, making all the misogynistic accusations leveled against the picture seem ridiculous, especially considering the women always seem much smarter than the guys throughout the film (save Eduardo's psycho girlfriend). With minimal screen time Mara makes us believe that letting Erica go is a mistake Zuckerberg won't ever be able to live down. When we get to the final scene the big revelation isn't that he built a billion dollar company to impress her, but that he believes giving it all up for another chance would be worth it. The scariest part: He's right.


1. EDUARDO SAVERIN'S MELTDOWN

Oh, that "Facebook movie." So cold, cynical, detached and unemotional. Such unlikable characters. Speaks to the mind, not the heart. No one has any FEELINGS. And that's only the second biggest misconception about the film. The biggest is one that Fincher's addressed in many interviews and involves the perception of the picture as some kind of cinematic landmark that speaks to a generation (one that ironically refused to support the movie and probably cost it a few Oscars). I expressed my own doubts on that when I reviewed it and see his point since it usually takes decades to make such a determine any film's value as a cultural touchstone. It also burdens the movie with added pressure it doesn't even need because it's important enough just as what it is: A perfectly directed, written and acted coming-of-age drama about the destruction of a friendship. And it all builds to this. 

Eduardo enters Facebook headquarters a boy but walks out a man after realizing he had the screws put to him by his best friend And in a movie packed with endlessly quotable lines, the criminally un-nominated Andrew Garfield gets to deliver its best to Timberlake's befuddled Parker, a verbal blow anyone caught in a volatile confrontation wished they could come up with in the heat of the moment. After being used and stepped on (though it's a credit to Garfield's performance it never exactly seems that way) Eduardo finally learns the hard way how to stand up for himself becoming the emotional center of what's otherwise been described as the most unemotional of films. He's our way in. Even though its characters talk endlessly, the film wisely holds a lot back in terms of what they're actually thinking and feeling until here, why is why this breaking point moment registers as powerfully as it does.

Images: DVD Beaver

The Social Network

Director: David Fincher
Starring: Jessie Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield, Justin Timberlake, Rooney Mara, Armie Hammer, Max Minghella, Brenda Song, Rashida Jones
Running Time: 121 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

SPOILERS FOLLOW 


“You are going to go through life thinking girls don’t like you because you’re a nerd. I can tell you from the bottom of my heart that that’s not true. It’ll be because you’re an asshole.”  


David Fincher's The Social Network doesn't waste any time. It gets down to business right away and if you thought going in this would just be "The Facebook Movie" it takes only until the end of the verbally explosive opening scene to change your mind. In it, future Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) gets dumped by his girlfriend Erica Albright (Rooney Mara) after she tires of putting up with his obsession with gaining entry into Harvard's "final clubs" because they'll lead to a better life. They talk and talk, firing Emmy-winning writer Aaron Sorkin's dialogue at and over each other at machine gun speed in a crowded, dimly lit bar with the conversation becoming more contentious as he turns sarcastic and condescending. At first, she almost seems interested, almost amused, until it becomes obvious this is someone without a clue how to interact with people, and as shocked as he is at being dumped, we are at how he got a date with her in the first place. Then comes that blistering quote above. That question of whether Zuckerberg really is an asshole never completely goes away. And if he is, does that preclude him from being a genius? Or a visionary? Or maybe he's just lucky. We don't get what resembles an answer until the final scene but it's the aftershock of the opening one that reverberates through the rest of the picture.

That night, the brutal break-up sends Zuckerberg sprinting back to his dorm room to drunkenly blog about Erica and with the help of his best (and only) friend, Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield), create a stir with a server-crashing page called "FaceMash," a "Hot or Not" type application where guys get to rate and compare the physical attractiveness of females on campus. With that the idea of Facebook is planted and one of the elements I appreciated most in Sorkin's screenplay is its full acknowledgment that Zuckerberg didn't exactly invent the light bulb here, but expanded on what was already being implemented shoddily by Friendster and MySpace. It's all in the execution, much of which revolves around the added ingredient of "exclusivity," or the notion that people want to feel as if they're in on something cool. That's what the other social networking sites were missing and once it's incorporated into what was then known as "THE Facebook" the possibilities became endless, as did the pitfalls. Ironically, Zuckerberg provides the perceived social acceptance for people online he could never receive himself on campus until meeting the Winklevoss Twins (Armie Hammer), crew team jocks who recruit him as programmer for their new relationship-based "Harvard Connection" web site emerging (coincidentally or not) just as Zuckerberg launches his.

The story is mostly told through flashbacks and interspersed with courtroom depositions from the two lawsuits eventually brought against Zuckerberg by the twins claiming intellectual property theft and from co-founder Saverin, who's cut out of his piece of the pie by his best friend as the company expands. The wedge driving them apart is Napster founder Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake), a hard partying hype machine looking to latch on to the next big thing after lawsuits from the music industry bled him dry. What's so funny is as the company grows bigger and bigger the further removed it becomes from the original conceit of re-creating the social experience of college online. With expansion comes at least some degree of exclusivity lost and you're left wondering whether the whole thing really would have been better off confined to campuses, since Facebook, as we know it now, has inadvertently come closer to re-creating the social experience of high school more than college. More importantly, we're also left wondering whether Zuckerberg would have been better off since the "better life" he wished for himself didn't necessarily include being the CEO of a billion dollar company. Money isn't the primary motivator for someone who shows up to courtroom depositions wearing jeans and Adidas flip-flops.

Jesse Eisenberg wasn't just the best choice for Zuckerberg, but the only actor who could have possibly done justice to the role, giving his most complex performance yet and one that should finally end those annoying and unjustified Michael Cera comparisons. Having already occupied one end of the spectrum with awkward portrayals of sensitive nerds who win the girl at the end, he leaves the nerd part intact, but removes nearly every other emotion. His trademark accessibility as a performer is muted, offering the character up as a damaged, rejected soul so frustrated at his social incompetence (which borders on Asperger's) and obsessed with fitting in that he uses the only weapon he has: His I.Q. Surprisingly, Timberlake's performance as opportunistic party animal Sean Parker isn't the strongest among the major supporting players but it's important to put that in perspective since he still steals every scene he's in. At first glance he appears to be playing an exaggerated version of himself but his work grows on you and the more you think back on it the more you have to love the irony of music's biggest superstar giving inspirational speeches extolling the virtues of internet piracy and file sharing.

British actor (and future Spider-Man) Andrew Garfield, steals the movie out from under everyone as Eduardo Saverin, the company's CFO who's betrayed by his best friend. We anticipate a smooth, cool operator in full control but Garfield conveys a certain vulnerability and wimpiness that suggests he's being taken for a ride and used as Zuckerberg's doormat, yet he still manages to find a way to make him not come off as a fool. He earns the most sympathy and while still not totally blameless emerges as the biggest victim no matter how many different sides of the story seem to be presented. It's his story as much as Zuckerberg's and you should probably get familiar with his laptop smashing meltdown at Facebook headquarters as you'll likely be seeing many clips of it over the next few months.

As twin rowers Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss (AKA the "Winklevii"), Armie Hammer, aided by Fincher's impressive Benjamin Button-level technology, creates two separate and unique personalities, identical only in never knowing how it feels to not get what they want, as Zuckerberg puts it. Consider how unlikable they could have been and appreciate how Hammer prevents that, to the point that you actually kind of feel bad for these privileged kids and want to take their side, if only because no one else will. With just two and a half scenes and under five minutes of screen time, Rooney Mara is unforgettably devastating as the catalyst of this social earthquake and it'll be a while before I forget that look on Erica's face when she realizes how Zuckerberg humiliated her. Facebook was about a girl, which makes perfect sense since everything always is. Speculation can now start as to whether she's real, fictitious or maybe resides in that gray area in between. 

Watching the deposition scenes and seeing each character's point of view gives us no better understanding of the truth since all that can be said for sure is that each character believes completely what they're saying. Similarly, you're left to watch and wonder how much if any of Sorkin's script (adapted in part from those depositions and Ben Mezrich's non-fiction novel, The Accidental Billionaires) can be considered a reliable interpretation of real-life events. Supposedly, the real Zuckerberg hasn't seen the film but has gone on record stating it's fictional and meant to be fun.  And on that count he's right, especially anything involving the twins and Zuckerberg's hilariously sarcastic "testimony."  Whether he's viewed it or not, or whether he actually means that or not, he may have unintentionally hit the nail on the head in terms of the right approach to take with this. And there are definitely worse things than being an important enough American figure to warrant a picture of this quality.

With Fincher and Sorkin involved I knew this wouldn't actually be ABOUT Facebook, but it's still amazing just how little it is about it and how much is accomplished with what looked on paper to be the most laughable of topics for a feature film. We should have known not to doubt them when we first hear Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' unforgettably unnerving and moody score and see just how dark and gloomy everything looks, confirming that the director who made Fight Club and Zodiac most definitely made this. And as challenging as it should have been to maneuveur around a subject that potentially deals with a lot of talking and sitting around at computers and boardrooms, it's surprising the number of scenes that consist of that, and how tension-filled and exciting they are. 

Comparisons are being made to Citizen Kane, but in all fairness those stem mostly from narrative and thematic similarities, which are plentiful. Like Kane, Zuckerberg gets lonelier and more isolated as he rises to the top, except he manages to spread his loneliness to everyone else. We're all now as socially disconnected as he is, while strangely somehow feeling more connected, at least on some superficial level. Yet there's something admirable and anti-heroic about the character because he set out to achieve a goal and did it the only way he knew how.

How you enter The Social Network is a big determining factor as to how you'll feel when you leave, mainly because of that mysterious phenomenon known as "HYPE," a force capable of cutting down any film, regardless of quality. It seems for a change I was actually able to keep my insanely high expectations mostly in check, resulting in them being exceeded. And as difficult as it's been, I've been careful to contain my praise knowing plenty of opportunities should arise for me to gush about it further in the coming months. It'll be interesting to find out how a film so timely and dependent on current technology will age, but I bet if you showed it to an audience ten years ago and told them this is the direction we're headed, their eyes probably would have popped out of their heads.

It's entirely too early to determine whether it "speaks to a generation" but it definitely speaks to the moment and there is a feeling that its story of greed, loneliness and betrayal has a fighting chance at outlasting the social phenomenon that spawned it. Despite not caring much for Facebook, I'd never suggest the story behind it doesn't deserve to be told, especially when it's constructed as brilliantly as this. The Social Network makes the strongest case yet for Facebook's existence, being that we couldn't have gotten this film without it.

Southland Tales

Director: Richard Kelly
Starring: Dwayne Johnson, Seann William Scott, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Justin Timberlake, Mandy Moore Running Time: 144 min.
Rating: R

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

For the past two years or so I’ve been telling anyone willing to listen that if something were to happen to me like, say, accidentally getting hit by a MAC truck, that my only request is that it occurs AFTER I’ve seen and reviewed Southland Tales. To fully understand why requires a little bit of explanation. You see Southland Tales is what I like to refer to as a "Jeremy Movie." Such films, which only seem to come down the pike every few years, follow a certain set of rules. The first of which is usually that they don’t follow any. They’re also self-indulgent, tend to make little or no sense on an initial viewing, take huge risks, feature insane casting and sometimes, but not always, are directed by a filmmaker who just doesn’t seem to give a shit whether their movie is embraced by the public.

These films often elicit harsh, polarizing reactions from audiences and critics. When I tell anyone I happen to love one of them I can read the frustration on their faces, even if they’re too polite to say anything. They just can’t stand it. The second I saw the trailer for for this I thought: "Awesome. Richard Kelly made a really insane film…just for me." Well, me and just a couple of other people who might be crazy enough to appreciate what he’s trying to do. Nearly everyone else will probably despise it.

Southland Tales is the most ambitious, self-indulgent film to ever be released by a major studio. By comparison, Kelly’s own Donnie Darko and last year’s Grindhouse look like tame, mainstream crowd pleasers. It’s a sci-fi epic, a dark comedy, a drama, a romance, a musical, an action-adventure and a religious allegory all rolled into one messy inaccessible package. It’s also the most biting political satire since Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove. In presenting a dystopian fantasy, it ends up saying more about the world we live in than any of the heavy-handed political dramas Hollywood force-fed us over the past year.

Its nearly 3-hour cut at the Cannes Film Festival in 2006 screened to the harshest reception there since The Brown Bunny. This cut is shorter at 144 minutes, but I can see how Kelly would’ve needed more time to tell such an expansive tale that bursts at the seams with such force and energy. Its reception at Cannes makes perfect sense. This isn’t a movie for film festivals, critics or even most audiences. Hell, this isn’t really a movie for anyone except a few. But for those few it will be very special. A little while back I almost felt the need to actually apologize for liking Juno, a polarizing movie reviled by many. You won’t be able to beat an apology out of me for this one.

It’s an alternate 2008 and the country is in political, social and environmental upheaval. A set of nuclear attacks in El Paso and Albilene, Texas in 2005 have set off a chain of events that has led America into World War III. We’re told this via clever Fox News-like visuals and a T.S. Elliot and Robert Frost quoting voice-over supplied by wounded Iraq War vet, Private Pilot Abiline (Justin Timberlake). The government responds by beefing up the Patriot Act and creating USIDent, an oppressive "Big Brother" police state. With a gas crisis on its hands the country makes a deal to use an alternative source of energy known as "Liquid Karma," the brainchild of mad scientist Baron Von Westphalen (The Princess Bride’s Wallace Shawn). The fate of the upcoming election rests solely on the electoral votes in the state of California.

Amongst the political unrest, extreme liberal cells to emerge, specifically a group called the Neo-Marxists. They’ll stop at nothing to destroy USIDent and break the Republican stranglehold in office, using movie star Boxer Santaros (Dwayne Johnson) to do it. Having recently disappeared in the middle of the desert, Boxer has returned to the California Southland with a mysterious case of amnesia, which right after impotence has to rank as the next worst condition with which to be afflicted if your wife is Mandy Moore. He’s shacked up with porn star and aspiring reality talk show host, Krysta Now (Sarah Michelle Gellar). They’re working on a screenplay, which bears more than a passing resemblance to the events that unfold in this film.

Boxer becomes the target of an extortion plot by the Neo-Marxists to bring down his in-laws, Republican Presidential candidate Bobby Frost (Holmes Osbourne) and his Lady MacBeth of a wife Nana Mae (Miranda Richardson. The other two pieces of the apocalyptic puzzle are twins Roland and Ronald Taverner (both played by Seann William Scott). And this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of all the plots and sub-plots contained within this jam-packed film or how they merge together for a visually stunning July 4th finale that takes you as far down the rabbit hole as humanly possible, owing more to Donnie Darko than you might expect.

It’s literally impossible to see this film once and attempt to make any sense of it at all, much less form an opinion on it. This creates a problem because an initial viewing will be so frustrating for most audiences that the last thing they’d want to do is revisit it, which is a shame because they’d be missing out. I’ve only seen it twice and I say "only" because I still don’t believe I’ve come anywhere close to extracting all there is from it. I don’t think I ever will. But it is amazing how much you pick up on in another viewing because it’s structured in such a way that you really do have to pay attention to every little detail. The narration. Those tickers at the bottom of the screen. The frequent news updates. They all play a role in filling in the blanks and dropping hints. The plot is complicated in its details, yet so meticulously crafted and constructed that from a big picture perspective it holds together in some sort of insane way when you step back and look at it all. More directly, it’s an extremely loose and very clever creative adaptation of the Book of Revelation, which is quoted many times during Timberlake’s voice-overs throughout the film.

As I experienced Southland Tales I could swear it must have been based on a comic or graphic novel because what’s onscreen comes so close to creating a living, breathing comic universe. As it turns out, the story is Kelly’s creation and while graphic novels were released separately from the film, they’re based on his screenplay, not the other way around. Not unlike George Lucas with Star Wars, Kelly had originally envisioned this as a nine-part series. What we get here is the final three parts entitled: Part Four: Temptation Waits, Part Five: Memory Gospel and Part Six: Wave of Mutilation. The graphic novels are prequels and this method likely alienated mainstream moviegoers who could point to it as yet another example of Kelly’s self-indulgence. To an extent they’re right, but I’d argue the three parts we get here wouldn’t be necessarily any more comprehensible if we had more background. And the prologue (which the studio pushed Kelly to include) does help make sense of this…if you pay close attention to it.

If I could compare it to any film, the closest it comes to matching, at least in tone, is Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. But it really isn’t like that movie at all, or like anything else for that matter. Kelly wears the influences of David Lynch, George Orwell and Phillip K. Dick proudly on his sleeve, yet he somehow still manages to build a universe that’s completely fresh and original. The movie is also incredible to look at with visionary production design and special effects that, if the film had been better received (or received at all) could’ve warranted Oscar consideration. Moby’s synthesized dream-like score seems almost ingrained into the fabric of the film and story itself. It’s hard to imagine any other composer’s work being as close of a match to this challenging material as his. Music also provides the exhilarating centerpiece of the film, a Justin Timberlake lip-synched musical number set to The Killers’ "All These Things That I’ve Done." After watching it you won’t hear that song the same way again. I have no idea how much was paid for the rights to use it, but it was worth every penny.

If someone asked me what my dream cast for a movie would be, the list would read almost exactly as you see above. It’s almost surreal seeing these names assembled together for one film. You may have noticed for the first time the conspicuous absence of "The Rock" moniker in Dwayne Johnson’s billing in the credits and the ads for the film. It’s appropriate. As a wrestling fan I was disappointed when Johnson hung up his trunks and retired for a movie career. If you looked at the long, unsuccessful list of wrestlers who’ve tried acting you’d know where I’m coming from. That disappointment officially ends now. I don’t want ever to see this guy anywhere near a ring again. I had a feeling he’d star in a great movie eventually, but I didn’t think it would be this early. The role of Boxer is right up his alley and Johnson deftly handles some of the most difficult material an actor can be given: the frustrating, incomprehensible kind. He’s no fluke and that this flopped won’t hurt him in the slightest. His performance drives the movie.

Sharing top acting honors with him is Sarah Michelle Gellar, who gives real heart and depth to what should have been the shallowest character in the film while Seann William Scott comes closest here to fulfilling the potential we’ve been suspecting he had all along. As the narrator, Timberlake is our eyes and ears in a story where we need a lot of help. Compared to his larger recent roles in Alpha Dog and Black Snake Moan, this doesn’t let him show as much dramatic range, but of the three, his work here is the most memorable…and craziest.

One of the biggest thrills in this is for me was seeing actors who I never thought would get a good role again (some of whose careers peaked a decade ago) finally given a chance to impress. You really get to see them like you never have before. Jon Lovitz as a psychotic cop. John Larroquette as a clueless Presidential advisor. Christopher Lambert as a weapons dealer. MadTV’s Will Sasso as a drug-dealing movie producer. Saturday Night Live’s Amy Poehler as an unhinged "performance artist." The biggest surprise of the film is another SNL vet, Cheri Oteri. Anyone familiar with her work on that show will be surprised that as Zora Carmichaels, the leader of the Neo-Marxist movement, she actually gives one of the strongest dramatic performances in the film… a dramatic performance made all the more impressive by the fact that it’s given in the midst of a screwball comedy.

As Madeline Frost Santaros, Mandy Moore’s free fall of terrible film choices comes to a screeching halt. It isn’t a big role yet in some strange way it ends up being one of her most exciting and, much like 2004’s Saved, represents the risky parts that for whatever reason she’s strayed away from. A completely unrecognizable Kevin Smith (looking EXACTLY like music producer Rick Rubin) even cameos as a military expert, who may have the answers everyone’s looking for. Also, keep an eye out for the appearance of one of America’s most hated directors in a "blink and you’ll miss it" moment. There are so many wild performances and cameos its impossible to single them all out and I know I’m missing many. When there are this many big names in a movie there’s a tendency for it to become a massive distraction but here there’s none of that. Everything is dead-on.

Regardless of how important it is for filmmakers to take risks and give us something we haven’t seen before, most don’t because they’re not given the creative freedom and the few that are know that walking this close to the edge is too dangerous for their careers. There’s much less downside when you have modest goals. No one will ever accuse Richard Kelly of lacking ambition or playing it safe. That says something, and it's something we desperately need more of. I’m not praising this film to be cool or different. Nor do I think being ambitious and risky automatically qualifies a movie as brilliant. You shouldn’t take chances just for the sake of taking them. The risks have to be good ones that pay off. And I’d never imply anyone who hates the film just doesn’t "GET IT." Even those who love it will probably never "get it." From where I’m sitting, the mystery accounts for much of its appeal.

Despite my admiration for Kelly’s previous feature, I’m far from one of those Emo, glue sniffing, wrist-slashing Darko fanboys who would have salivated over anything he put up on screen. I knew what I was getting into and expected to be entertained, but was also fully prepared for the possibility I’d hate it. Either way I knew I’d be getting something daring and original. There’s just no telling how something so "of the moment" and reflective of our times will hold up over the long run, but I have this sneaking suspicion it’ll age very well.

I’ve been very critical of films incorporating, or even worse, preaching politics, but when presented in the context of such a creative fantasy, it goes down so much easier. It helps that Kelly is an equal opportunity offender, hilariously taking swipes at both sides. It works as a hysterical spoof of everything from YouTube to cable news channels to celebrity culture. Maybe it’s just my weird sense of humor, but I laughed harder during this than any mainstream comedy in years. Labeling this a masterpiece is false advertising if only because it’s just such a beautifully flawed mess. Perfect in its imperfection.


In a rare, welcome case of an actor not running for cover when their film flops, Sarah Michelle Gellar has been vehemently defending Kelly and the movie. She told Sci-Fi Wire:

"You know, at the end of the day, I hope people talk about it. That’s the whole point of it. It’s not a movie made for every audience. This isn’t a film made to go across the board. And what I love about it is, I went and saw the new cut with, like, five people. And afterwards for about three hours we all talked about it, because everybody took different things out of it. She added that "The true fans, the people that are the Donnie Darko fans, that are my fans, Dwayne’s fans, I think they’re going to enjoy it. And you know what? Those are the reasons I make movies."

She offers up a much better defense than I ever could. If you want a sterile, emotionless exercise (albeit a very good one) then see No Country For Old Men. If you feel like being challenged, then see this. Sometimes I’m asked which kinds of movies excite me and get my pulse racing. Pop in this DVD and you’ll have your answer.

I was counting down the days until its theatrical release but was then disappointed when its run came and went within a week. But interestingly, when I went to pick it up the DVD this past week it was almost sold out everywhere. Either the stores didn’t order enough copies or, much like Donnie Darko, there may be a second life yet for this film. I have a theory (which admittedly isn’t much of a stretch) that Kelly deliberately set out to make a cult film with Darko. He’d probably even admit it himself. That goal seems even more intentional here since he now actually has a cult to cater to. This already feels like a cult classic so it shouldn’t be long before it unofficially becomes one.

It’s shocking Kelly was given this much freedom by the studio but even his biggest detractors have to give him credit for abusing the privilege and making the movie he and his fans wanted to see. It’s so challenging, visionary and daring he may have also just lost some of those very fans he was making it for. That any cut of this almost totally impenetrable film was even released at all is somewhat of a miracle. It was worth the wait for me.

I’ve never really had the burning desire to write or direct a film. I know my limitations and far prefer writing about them. But if I did, I do know the type of movie I would want to make … and Richard Kelly has filmed it. He even stole my cast. For nearly two and a half hours all my crazy cinematic dreams played out on screen. I still haven’t completely processed what I saw, but I know I’ll be returning to it over and over again. While nothing makes me happier than singing the praises of an underappreciated, overlooked film that needs the support, it is awkward recommending one most of you will hate. But love it or hate it, no one can deny that they’ll only ever be one Southland Tales.

Alpha Dog

Director: Nick Cassavetes
Starring: Emile Hirsch, Justin Timberlake, Anton Yelchin, Bruce Willis, Sharon Stone, Ben Foster, Shawn Hatosy, Olivia Wilde, Dominique Swain, Amanda Seyfried
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: R

*** (out of ****)

Yes, Justin Timberlake can act. Going into Alpha Dog that seemed to be the question on everyone's mind, myself included. He's not asked to do anything too demanding, but toward the end he gets to do some emotionally heavy lifting and pulls it all off really well. Is he just playing himself? Maybe, but every actor brings who they are to a role, or at least some version of it. He's one of the highlights of the film and when it ended I was curious what he'd be capable of if given even heftier material to work with. For a while I thought this film would supply that, but it doesn't take itself seriously enough which is fine because it's just not that kind of movie anyway. Alpha Dog is instead a stylishly made guilty pleasure that's a lot of fun. It's cinematic trash and I mean that in the nicest way possible.

The story had the potential to be a little more, but as we head toward the somewhat unsatisfying conclusion it becomes clear writer and director Nick Cassavettes isn't interested in that. We start to really care about these kids, but he pulls back at just the wrong time to bombard us with visual tricks and gimmicks, including a very ill advised cosmetic one involving a major actress that comes late in the film. Still, it's a blast and anyone looking to be entertained won't be let down.

Alpha Dog is based on the true story of Jesse James Hollywood a notorious drug dealer who became one of the youngest men ever to appear on the F.B.I.'s most wanted list. In this film we find out how. Here, all the names are changed to protect the innocent, or not so innocent, as Jesse James becomes Johnny Truelove. He's played well by Emile Hirsch, in a performance some people will undoubtedly have problems with. I didn't. He has a huge posse which includes but isn't limited to his right hand man Frankie Ballenbacher (Timberlake), kiss ass Elvis Schmidt (Eddie Vedder look alike Shawn Hatosy) and his hot girlfriend Angela Holden (The O.C's Olivia Wilde). When Johnny has a major falling out with one of his premiere customers, loose cannon Jake Mazursky (an explosive Ben Foster), seemingly by accident Johnny and Frankie kidnap Jake's 15 year-old-brother Zack (Anton Yelchin) and shove him in the back of their van. They hold him for ransom even though they never really make any ransom demands and have no idea what they're doing.

The irony of this "kidnapping" is it's the best thing to ever happen to the shy, introverted Zack who's smothered daily by his mother Olivia (Sharon Stone) and isn't even allowed to leave the front stoop of their house. With these guys he finally fits in as he's exposed to drinking, drugs, three ways and basically everything else California teens do on a daily basis that he can't. What's neat about the film is that it exposes the parents as being every bit as irresponsible and stupid as their kids as they have sex in front of them and grow pot in their backyards.

Watch when Foster's character storms into his dad's house high out of his mind demanding money and dad can't even bring himself to say no. Symbolic of this epidemic is Johnny's father, notorious mob boss Sonny Truelove (Bruce Willis in what amounts to a cameo role) and his grandfather Cosmo (the great Harry Dean Stanton) who've spent their lives cheering on his behavior until now. Now things have gotten too heavy even for them. With kids going around all day playing Scarface, real life was bound to catch up with them at some point. Everyone's in over their heads.

What ends up being the surprisingly touching relationship at the center of the film is the one between young Zack and Frankie, who's been put in charge by Johnny to look after the kid. Resistant at first, Frankie grows to like him and becomes kind of his de facto big brother. Zack idolizes him and because we get to see all these messed up kids through Zack's eyes it actually kind of humanizes them and the movie. It helps that Yelchin gives a quiet, unassuming, and likeable performance. He actually comes across as a little brother you'd want to have. Timberlake also really steps up in this third act, suggesting the film was going places deeper than I initially thought. Unfortunately though, it doesn't.

The decision Johnny makes as to what should happen to this kid, while without question morally wrong, also makes little sense. How anyone, even a kid this wreckless and stupid, could possibly think that this is the best way out of this situation for everyone involved (especially him) is unfathomable. I realize this is based on a true story, but that doesn't make what the characters do in this movie any more believable or make it less disappointing. Cassavettes had the information and it was his responsibility to present it in a way onscreen that would ring true. He'll probably be excused by most on this one since this is how it supposedly went down in real life, but he can't be excused for what follows.

Just after the most dramatic and emotionally gut wrenching moment in the film we're treated to a Sharon Stone scene that hits every wrong note imaginable. It would have been better placed in The Nutty Professor or Norbit. I was literally rolling on the floor laughing. It's a shame too because Stone does good work in the film and didn't deserve to be humiliated like this. Without giving too much away, let's just say Cassavetes could have gotten the effect he wanted out of the scene without resorting to this trickery. That it stands out as campy and unintentionally hilarious in a film that includes a cameo from Growing Pains' Alan Thicke is quite an accomplishment.

Even though it's Timberlake who steals the show, Emile Hirsch continues his string of strong performances with his work here, even if in the minds of many he doesn't exactly look the part. I think that was point and it's even questioned during the film why everyone fears and is frightened by this scrawny little kid. He looks young but Hirsch carries himself in such a way that he can pull it off believably, and does. In many ways his Johnny Truelove is very similar to skateboarder Jay Adams, whom he portrayed in 2005's The Lords of Dogtown. Both are egomaniacs desperate for respect and attention and afraid they'll be exposed as frauds. Truelove is even more a product of his own twisted environment.

Had this movie dug deeper and really explored the issues it brought up, Ben Foster's strung-out performance as Jake probably would have gotten more respect and possibly awards consideration. As it stands though, it instead makes for an entertaining and often times frighteningly hilarious diversion. He has a fight scene that's so over-the-top you can't help but cheer, and there were many times during the film where I wondered if Foster was really on something. That's how believable he is as an out of control addict. I should mention there are also a lot of girls in this movie. A lot. So many that it's hard for any of them to really make a lasting impression. Wilde seemed like she was just there for decoration, while Domique Swain gets to yell and shriek most of the time. The only two you'll remember (and for good reason) are Amanda Seyfried and Amber Heard, who break-in young Zack during a memorable pool scene.

Of course the easy joke here is that John Cassavetes is probably rolling over in his grave right now at the film his son Nick directed. I don't think that's fair. Every filmmmaker has their own strengths and weaknesses and while the elder Cassavetes' strengths may have resided in intimate character portraits, it's clear between this, John Q. and The Notebook that Nick's talent lies in mainstream popcorn audience pleasers. There's nothing wrong with that. He shouldn't be expected to follow in his legendary father's footsteps, nor would it benefit him to.

There were times during the film where I wished Cassavetes would just tell the story in a meaningful way instead of hiding behind fat suits, split screen technology and title cards telling us the name and number of witnesses as they appear onscreen. For some reason I expected the latter to pay off in some way at the end of the film but it never really went anywhere. It's just a gimmick. In any event, this movie does now hold the infamous honor of coming in fourth all-time for the amount of "F-bombs" dropped in a motion picture. That's a telling fact. Alpha Dog could have been more, but it couldn't have possibly been any more fun.