Weekly Review -- Better the devil you know

The Haunting of Molly Hartley (2008) -- Oh, the lifespan of a cinematic time waster... Well, this movie makes me wonder about it, anyway, considering that I forgot about it immediately after having seen it. After a horrific incident, the titular heroine (Haley Bennett) intends to make a fresh start at a new school with the help of her father (Jake Weber) and new friends, including devoutly religious Alexis (Shanna Collins) and possible love interest Joseph (Chace Crawford). However, Molly is soon caught up in visions and hallucinations which, unbeknownst to her, are leading her toward a dark destiny... Or so they say. First of all, let me make it absolutely clear that the acting is atrocious. Bennett and Weber attempt to make the best of the lazy writing, and they do have their moments, but Crawford, AnnaLynne McCord and Nina Siemaszko are painful to watch. This particularly holds true for Crawford, whose delivery is as flat as a pancake, and Siemaszko, who shamelessly tries to channel an infamous performance from a similarly themed (but incomparably, not-belonging-in-the-same-sentence superior) movie. The writing is pulpy, brimming with clichés and pedestrian dramatics. Yes, there are a few jump scares, but hey, if you happen to be even a casual genre fan, you are going to see them coming from a mile away. The entire movie feels like a cheap hodgepodge of stories from great movies and TV shows, a few of which someone just threw into the Hollywood blender and tried to cash in on, while underestimating the audience. The ending is sudden, uninspiring and forced; still, considering the diet of reckless apathy that the younger generations are being weaned on, this ending might represent both a warning and premonition. If you truly wish to be frightened, please leave The Haunting of Molly Hartley to rest in peace, and switch on the evening news instead.

3/10

Weekly Review -- Apocalyptic chic

Doomsday (2008) -- Warriors, conspiracies, epidemics, oh my! Neil Marshall, director of Dog Soldiers and The Descent, takes on the potential end of civilization as we know it in his latest offering. After the so-called Reaper virus has wiped out most of Scotland and isolated it from the rest of Great Britain, the country suffers a social and economic collapse. Thirty-five years later, the virus reappears in ravaged London and survivors are uncovered in Glasgow, prompting the government to dispatch a team to Scotland, in order to find a possible cure. Led by Major Eden Sinclair (Rhona Mitra) and including infectious disease specialist Dr. Talbot (Sean Pertwee) and Sergeant Norton (Adrian Lester), the team soon runs into a host of problems, not the least of which are the savage mentality and harsh living conditions of the outbreak survivors. As he did with Dog Soldiers, Marshall imbues the proceedings with dark camp and unleashes gore with gusto, while infusing the story with numerous violently innovative action sequences. The world that the movie takes place in is a curious mishmash of prehistoric settings, Neo-Gothic stylings and techno sensibilities, all of which is topped off by dog-eat-not-only-dog instincts and drenched in war paint. This world is raw and vivid, making it easy to imagine that a group of people who have been through a similar catastrophe could revert to such primitive behavior. Mitra is a convincing action heroine, exploring the vulnerable and tough sides of Sinclair and demonstrating aptitude in the physically demanding scenes. After having also been the first human model for Lara Croft and having played the female lead in Underworld: Rise of the Lycans, she might be in for an adventurous cinematic ride, and she has the chops for it. The supporting cast is very good, particularly David O'Hara as ruthless Deputy Prime Minister Michael Canaris and Lester as a dutiful soldier. Doomsday is one of the better action movies of recent years, with enough tongue-in-cheek humor to bring hue into its dour milieu, as well as enough action to keep the genre fans satisfied.

7/10

Weekly Review -- Intimate or intimidate?

Intimacy (2001) -- Sexuality and desolation collide in this thoughtful drama about urbane loneliness pervading society and human relationships. Jay (Mark Rylance) and Claire (Kerry Fox) are strangers, linked only by their weekly sexual encounters, ones that take them both out of their partly self-imposed, isolationist routines every Wednesday. Sex is both a fiery undertaking and utilitarian task for the pair; it is a sweet obligation, yet it is also an unspoken promise of anonymous discretion. However, Jay becomes intrigued by Claire. He is fascinated by this woman who brings out feelings he thinks he has forgotten how to feel; captivated by this person whose reserved exterior seems to be hiding passions greater than their corporeal trysts. He decides to find out more, but more might be a problem for the two, particularly in light of their family situations... I liked the dry, sensual curtness of writer Anne-Louise Trividic and director Patrice Chéreau's screenplay, based on Hanif Kureishi's short stories. The writing introduces the audience to these characters in reverse, starting with a deceptively simple encounter and unraveling the circumstances to tell us more about how and why they have become so addicted to one another. The approach works for this type of story, since it effectively develops the characters through a fourth wall -- only making the viewer aware of Jay and Claire's lives, before they themselves are allowed knowing anything beyond their Wednesdays. The acting is superb. Rylance is compelling as Jay, who is searching for meaning in his life and mistakenly believing that Claire is the answer, when she is only a quick fix for his crisis. Fox is a picture of subtle euphoria as Claire, whose inner conflicts are drawn reservedly across her face in every sequence, only to explode in an unforgettable showdown. The supporting cast of quirky characters contributes answers to the questions that the two protagonists' actions keep posing; Timothy Spall and Marianne Faithfull offer up particularly fascinating portrayals. The many strengths of the film lie in its explorations of sexual norms and biological need for touch as a contrast to our dissolving societal interactions. Indeed, apart from the closeness they experience once a week, both Mark and Claire appear to be very detached from other people; then again, the world also appears to be detached from them, rushing past the two, when all they want to be doing is standing still. The weakness of the movie lies in too many unexplored relationships and instances, such as Jay's encounters with his friends and his attitude toward his family. A further development of these -- especially the latter -- could have provided valuable insight as to why this man does not have enough courage to change his chaotically dull life, as well as why he needs emotional band-aids like a weekly sexual rendezvous with a complete stranger. In the end, it is the general boldness of the writing and acting, as well as Eric Gautier's appropriately bleak cinematography, that makes this film different from many other ordinary romantic dramas. Intimacy is a mature and fulfilling character study, unafraid of sending its protagonists on a deeply cerebral physical odyssey, while holding up a mirror to the viewer's own psycho-sexual dilemmas.

7/10

Weekly Review -- The two Barcelonas

It just so happens that both films I have seen over this weekend take place in Barcelona; however, these two portrayals of the same city could not be more different. The journey takes us from the plentiful beauty of corporeal and natural aesthetics to the darkly urban, claustrophobic depths of human dread.


Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008) -- Woody Allen's latest offering is a romantic drama that examines matters of the heart and the concept of soulmates, topics it peppers with elements of farcical comedy. Best friends Vicky (Scarlett Johansson) and Cristina (Rebecca Hall) arrive in Barcelona for a summer holiday and soon become romantically entangled with painter Juan Antonio Gonzalo (Javier Bardem), but the situation changes when Gonzalo's ex-wife, eccentric bohemian Maria Elena (Penélope Cruz), re-enters his life. The actors bite into Allen's juicy screenplay, relishing every word and every intellectually intriguing twist. Bardem and Johansson are excellent as the seductive painter and his new ingenuous muse, respectively, but it is Cruz and Hall that pull the emotional strings of this show. Cruz is a firecracker that keeps erupting; a fragile, messy beauty trying to survive in a world of too many rationalized contradictions. She is a force of nature, whose passion is as unstoppable as her art is expressive. Hall is subtle and vulnerable as a woman unable to reconcile her repressed longing with the truth about her real conservative self, one that she does not want to recognize. One could say that, in a sense, it is Gonzalo's charmer ways that act as the main catalyst for the two women's yearnings, and this is exactly where Bardem's paradoxically subtle masculinity serves its purpose. Hall's interactions with Bardem serve to reveal her character's much-too-traditionalist personality layer by layer, just like Cruz's interactions with Bardem serve to unlock the stunning allure beneath Maria Elena's illusory madness. These incredibly drawn out, detailed relations almost make us forget the initial relationship presented -- the one between the two friends, one that is slowly being shaken and stirred within the context of the narrative. Both Vicky and Cristina are using the vacation to attempt to find themselves in love and life; the problem is, neither of them has researched and come to know their personal, innermost identity first. It is ironic, yet appropriate, that Cristina should be doing a thesis on a topic so obscure as the Catalan identity, since it makes us wonder just how far removed she is from any reality outside of her own sheltered existence. Vicky, as the guileless temptress wannabe, gets another type of jolt from her affair; however, she is much too inexperienced to grasp any kind of love that does not focus on her own needs and that goes beyond her understanding. In the end, learn Vicky and Cristina do, and learn a whole lot; in the end, it is Maria Elena who is fully self-aware, recognizing her desires without being afraid to explore them deeper, all the while not compromising herself and her beliefs. One cannot take a closer look at this film without taking a closer look at its Spanish locales. The lush, archaic beauty of Spain -- Barcelona and Oviedo in particular -- leaves the impression of an ever-present, omniscient character, one that keeps a watchful eye over the romantic escapades of the protagonists. Vicky Cristina Barcelona is a cultured, evolved look at 21st century relationships, making us wish that more on-screen romances were just as clever as they were sexy.

10/10


[Rec] (2007) -- Dark, frightening and repellent are only three adjectives that one could use to describe this Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza collaboration. Young, take-no-prisoners reporter Angela Vidal (Manuela Velasco) is filming a report about a typical firefighters' night for her TV program. When a call concerning a holed-up elderly lady comes in, Angela and her cameraman Pablo (Pablo Rosso) hop along for the ride, not expecting a whole load of excitement, but hoping for a sensibly engaging story. What they get surpasses anything that they may have anticipated, as a routine emergency call turns into a night of otherworldly fear. The strength of [Rec] lies as much in its real-time approach and filming techniques, as it does in intense moments and the relatively plausible aspects of the story. The jump scares come at the viewer unpredictably and insatiably; the gore is sporadic, yet disturbing, in the most clinical, squirm-inducing sense. I can imagine how frightening this experience must have been for cinema audiences -- the claustrophobia alone will get you -- and I do not even want to imagine seeing the second half in a cavernous, inescapable space. The movie struggles when it attempts to be a stylistic and thematic combination of The Blair Witch Project and, for me, the far superior 28 Days Later, managing only to mutate into a neurotic offspring of the two. Some scenes are rather similar to certain parts of the latter film, although [Rec] leaves an impression of a visceral attack that is more raw and unpolished in regard to its aesthetics. The movie is better off when exploring the humanity of the individuals caught up in the inhumane, than while trying to imitate cinematic flair. The actors get embroiled in the panic, particularly Velasco, on whose hassled shoulders lies the responsibility of transferring the human experience to the audience, all within the chaos of the unknown. As a novelty, [Rec] is not exactly novel, considering its predecessors; as a film, however, it frequently taps into our deepest fears, using its minimalist elements to produce maximum dread.

7/10