Thursday, August 22, 2013

Lee Daniels' The Butler

Hollywood has a sad history of dumbing-down movies about race (think of how the Oscars have rewarded movies like "Driving Miss Daisy" instead of "Do the Right Thing"). With one glance at "Lee Daniels' The Butler," you might think this is the case. Instead, we have a film that more or less plays it safe, but ultimately provides a compelling and moving story of bravery and the art of challenging the status quo.

Before I get carried away, I need to say that "Lee Daniels' The Butler" is a movie that will be nominated for everything, and the cast will easily be rewarded. Forest Whitaker has never given us a bad performance, and he continues that streak here as the main character. He plays Cecil Gaines, a successful butler in a hotel who is offered a job as butler to the White House. These are incredible achievements for Gaines, particularly considering that he escaped from a terrible environment headed by malicious crop farmers in Georgia. In his portrayal, Whitaker's performance is everything it needs to be. It's simple when required, yet simultaneously potent. Even small moments, like when he tells President Eisenhower that he did not go to school but instead grew up on a farm, are perfectly delivered. And Whitaker has great support from his other cast members. I'm sure Oprah Winfrey is proud of her extraordinary career on television, but if she had made a career in movies, she would easily be one of the greats. As Cecil's faithful yet bored and frequently drunk wife, she knows exactly the right notes to hit. She is powerful when she needs to, as during the tear-jerking scene in which she sends her son off to college, and humorous as well; what else could bring a smile faster to one's face than Oprah in 70s attire dancing to disco music?

Whereas the heart of this movie is a hard-working man and a witness to history, it's also a story about not only Cecil's troubled relationship with his oldest son, but also his absence in the house. This vacuum provides for a lot of drinking and smoking for Winfrey's character, Gloria, and her vulnerability to a drunk, womanizing neighbor, played by Terrence Howard. David Oyelowo (you might recall him in a very different role in "Rise of the Planet of the Apes") is the oldest son, Louis, who is almost insulted by his father's affection for the presidents he serves (and their, according to Louis, halfhearted and weak measures to push for civil rights). Whitaker is also joined by Lenny Kravitz (one of Daniels' stars in "Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire") and Cuba Gooding, Jr. (in his best performance in years) as butler colleagues of Cecil's.

I imagine that a lot of the talk before, during, and after the film has centered on the portrayal of the presidents Cecil serves. I, like probably many others, was skeptical.  There was an awkward laugh as Robin Williams first appeared as President Eisenhower, a role that provided him only several scenes and zero (intentional) laughs. But eventually, the audience bought it. But Severus Snape as Ronald Reagan? I adore Alan Rickman as much as everyone else, but perhaps this is the most miscast role. Still, for the most part, the players do an effective job, even if they don't look exactly like the presidents they play.  

The film's politics is not necessarily visualized through the ideologies of the presidents portrayed, but by the criticality of its subject. This is a movie that understands the parallels between then and now, gently reminding its audience that while things have improved, we are not yet to the promised land. At first, it seems that it embraces the dumbed-downness I was worried about. It's somewhat annoying how "Lee Daniels' The Butler" employs the mythos of Americans' perceptions of their presidents: Richard Nixon, played by John Cusack, comes across as slimy and paranoid. John Kennedy, played by James Marsden, is youthful and boyish, while his vice president and successor Lyndon Johnson (Liev Schrieber) gives commands to his aides while on the toilet (and it's Cecil who has to fetch him his glass of prune juice). Ronald Reagan (Rickman) is a kind, grandfatherly man who asks Cecil to mail his letters with money in them to people who write explaining their financial struggles (but there's no mention of how Reagan often cut those struggling people's welfare benefits). So at its core, it seems like it embraces the very "see no evil, hear no evil" philosophy of its protagonist.

But the movie is actually much smarter than that. Screenwriter Danny Strong (who won an Emmy for writing the HBO movie "Game Change" about the 2008 presidential election; you may recognize him as an actor from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Mad Men") deserves credit not only for his creativity (the story is only loosely based on the real-life story of White House butler Eugene Allen) but also his powerful dialogue and characters. In some ways, his screenplay embraces the polite, soft version of history, that radicalism of all kind should be shunned.  But he understands, for example, that there is no such thing as a good segregationist, for if they couldn't be on the right side of some of the simplest moral questions, how could they be right on anything else? Vanessa Redgrave's performance as young Gaines' mean old boss demonstrates this. When Gaines' father is shot, instead of seeking the law and making sure that justice was served, she orders the other black folks to dig a whole and, without hesitating after the gruesome act, assures young Gaines that she's now going to teach him how to "be a house nigger."

So this is not so much a film about politics but a film about history, one which is destined to be played in schools around the country, as it should. Teachers have a responsibility to show this movie to their students. I was a bit disappointed that there weren't more young people in the theater (though it was the second day back to school during the early evening, so I don't blame them for not being at that particular showing). The theater instead was filled with mostly elderly audience members, many of whom whispered to each other as they watched, probably reminiscing about the different historical events seen in the movie. (Say what you will about young whippersnappers in theaters texting, but at least they not only know that it's their phone going off, but they also know the actual procedure to turn them off.)

I haven't even mentioned the wonderful direction of Lee Daniels. With such an ambitious project on his hands with so many elements to juggle, it would be easy for any director to drop the ball. Daniels does not, and provides a worthy follow-up to "Precious." It's one of the year's best movies, and I greatly look forward to his next film.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

The Conjuring

"No animal had ever made such sounds. Neither the lions of East Africa nor the angry bulls. At times, it sounded like a veritable herd of wild beasts orchestrated by Satan had formed a hellish choir."

This quote is from a nun describing the horrible nature of a young South African girl named Clara Germana Cele, who was reportedly possessed by a demon in 1906. When thinking of this summer's "The Conjuring," I have pondered my habitual nature as a person who was raised Catholic to fear the Devil. I can remember crying myself to sleep in the first grade after hearing stories in school of how Satan would pull children by the hair to Hell if they were bad. (Appropriate classroom topic for a first grader?) Supposedly, many of the so-called possessions are explained by science as mental disorders; perhaps this was the case with the young South African girl. But despite the scientific skepticism of exorcisms, why bother being skeptical when it can happen to you?

The above thoughts intrigued me. A lot of the other elements of "The Conjuring," however, did not. Compare this movie to last year's super creepy "The Woman in Black." In terms of terror, there is not much of a comparison. One is scary because it tries to be; the other doesn't try hard enough and then tries too hard. Personally, I get scared rather easily. Dark basements? Terrifying. Shadows? Petrifying. Something under the bed? Would rather not look. So utilizing such features in a movie may be scary, but it's not very impressive or innovative. (Anyone can go "boo!"; it doesn't necessarily make you a horror genius.) As Jonah Hill mocked his exorcist in this summer's "This Is the End," when the demon is being compelled to leave the body, "it's not very compelling."

The film's typical horror story is about a family (led by Lili Taylor and Ron Livingston) who move to a quiet (yet terribly eerie) country home that (you guessed it) experienced grim murders.  The couple and their five girls (Shanley Caswell, Hayley McFarland, Joey King, Mackenzie Foy, and Kyla Deaver) start to experience paranormal activities. They include the youngest girl talking to an imaginary friend, and another girl who sleep walks and bangs her head against a closet door; there's an odd, awful stench and a severe chill when things go wrong. Things start to get much worse. During their first night there, the family dog is murdered. Birds start to fly into the house's walls and break their necks. Someone else is clapping along during their hide-and-clap game. The mother wakes up with bruises, and the girls are positively sure that someone else in the room is abusively pulling their legs during their sleep. 

The activity becomes unbearable, so the family has no choice but to seek demonologists Ed and Lorraine Warren (the real-life couple who investigated the Amityville Horror episode and who are here played by Patrick Wilson and Vera Farminga). The investigators conclude that this ain't no case of sleep paralysis or loud pipes. So they go to the house to begin their investigation and plan. Fairly soon, it becomes an all-hands-on-deck approach, with their assistant (Shannon Kook) and (for no explained reason) a cop (John Brotherton) joining them. This is problem number one that I had with "The Conjuring." Instead of picking one paranormal aspect (a demon, a ghost, a witch), this movie assumes that more is more, so all three are included. I couldn't quite follow the story (and wasn't that motivated to try), but there's something about a Salem witch who burned her baby (I think) and then haunted the house (or maybe the demon haunted it) and told inhabitants to murder people, and then a little creepy boy ran away (or something).

Why bother including so much? Wouldn't it have been more effectively horrifying to simply focus on the witch or the demon or the ghost?    

"The Conjuring," especially as it progresses, seems like a duller version of "The Exorcist," almost like an "Exorcism for Dummies"-type of film, particularly with that annoyingly explanatory dialogue.  "Paranormal Activity," four years ago, was also about helpless victims being possessed by hateful demons, and yet that movie brought freshness and novelty that is unfortunately lacking here in "The Conjuring." To say "The Conjuring" is bad would be inaccurate. The actors do a mostly effective job, even though they're provided with such a lame screenplay with lamer dialogue by Chad and Carey Hayes. Director James Wan should be commended for his ability to more or less be on a role (he is also the director of "Saw" and "Insidious") but criticized for not making a particularly scary movie.  With all due respect to Wan, who is probably America's leading horror filmmaker today, his direction reminded me of the famous story regarding Alfred Hitchcock. Hitchcock claimed that it would be easy for him to make a movie where a group of characters sat around a table and a bomb unexpectedly blew up, thus shocking the audience. But Hitchcock said he would rather direct a movie in which the audience knew there was a bomb under the table, and so the tension was in waiting for it to explode. For Wan's next movie, he should focus on Hitchcock's approach.


Sunday, August 11, 2013

Yeah, Mr. White! Yeah, Season Five!

In attempting to write an article about "Breaking Bad" as a whole, it is much simpler for me to focus on the show's characters. This is especially so because "Breaking Bad" is a show that understands that there are no small roles. I am not exaggerating when I say that there has not been a single character in this series that hasn't been fascinating. Consider one of show's most intriguing characters, Saul Goodman. Played by Bob Odenkirk, the character is a highlight in every scene. A highly unethical lawyer with poor production infomercials, Saul has a plan for Walter and Jessie no matter what bizarre, impossible situation they find themselves in. A comedian who worked with Conan O'Brien and Robert Smigel on "Saturday Night Live," Odenkirk brought necessary comic relief to the show. But if there was any instance of humor, it was usually offset by powerful and dark performances like those from the villains. Tuco Salamanca (Raymond Cruz) and his uncle Hector (Mark Margolis) provided the show with a level of psychotic intensity, and yet they seemed tame compared to Gustavo Fring (played excellently by Giancarlo Esposito). Fring is a small, delicate man, yet one who effortlessly instills fear in virtually anyone (character or audience member).

The show is really not so much about interesting characters but characters caught up in failure. Consider John de Lancie's reoccurring role in season two as the father of Jesse's drug-addicted girlfriend. As an actor, he knew exactly the right notes to hit. Upon seeing his dead daughter, instead of launching out at Jessie and ripping him apart, he simply glances at him for a moment; he's too destroyed to do anything else. His failure to save his daughter has enormous consequences; this is a reoccurring theme in the show. Case in point: Jesse Pinkman, played flawlessly by Aaron Paul.  Like Bryan Cranston's portrayal of Walter White, he is humorous when he needs to, easily slipping into tirades, and is complex and challenged at the same time. He is, as he says, "the bad guy," incapable of not making mistakes. And yet ironically, because he eventually sees the error of his ways, audiences have interpreted him to be the show's moral compass. Vince Gilligan and his fellow makers of "Breaking Bad" understood from the beginning that the show was never about only Walter, but Jesse and Walter.

Is Walter White a good man? Frankly, no, even before he started poisoning children. He's a terrible human being who has made terrible choices, and this should have been evident for most viewers by the end of the first season. But as a character, he's fascinating. It's fortunate for Walter that he discovers his talent for cooking meth because he is such a poor teacher. Constantly autocratic and overly didactic, he not only bores his students but practically bullies them. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter," he mercilessly tells one of them. His mercilessness explodes into his latter incarnation as the meth cook Heisenberg, though the show went a bit far pushing this point in the first part of season five. The evolution of Mr. White from bumbling teacher to meth emperor seemed to help the show lose its novelty and fun earlier. The metamorphosis was necessary, I suppose, but the show also ditched its unique blend of dark humor and grit by subtracting the former. Heisenberg, barking negotiations at rivals, is simply less interesting than Walter White, running scared through the desert in his underwear and gas mask.

But perhaps my favorite character has been Skyler, who utters probably the show's best line: "Someone has to protect this family from the man who protects this family." She is the logical and practical force of the show, analytic when her Nobel Peace Prize-winning husband acts stupidly. But could a person really be that stupid by making that so many stupid mistakes, as Walter has been? (And he's in a show where the character's brother-in-law DEA agent--played perfectly by Dean Norris in perhaps the most loved character of the show--frequently and unwittingly gives away details of the investigations to Walt/Heisenberg.) Believing that a high school chemistry teacher could cook meth to pay for his cancer treatment?  Believable.  The same character turning down free money to treat the cancer from a former college classmate?  Way too far fetched.  But then again, there wouldn't be much of a show if he had, would there?

So here's hoping Gilligan and his crew conclude the show and its terrific characters exceptionally.

Save Walter White

Heisenberg before he cooked meth