Showing posts with label Christopher Nolan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christopher Nolan. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 22, 2026

The Odyssey

The theme in Ancient Greek literature of nostos, in which a heroic figure returns home, seems like an appropriate theme for Sir Christopher Nolan, the hugely successful auteur who has returned to action flicks after his slow-churning but acclaimed multi-Oscar-winning biographical film Oppenheimer four years ago. For his newest project, he's chosen something that seems like a natural fit for him: adapting Homer's Odyssey in what is likely his most ambitious film (and certainly the most ambitious adaptation of this famous tale). 

Is it as stunning as they say? The Odyssey is a home run according to just about every source (it's got an 8.5 score on IMDb, a 94% on Rotten Tomatoes, a 4.4 on Letterboxd, and an 89 on Metacritic), and it's destined to be nominated for a host of awards next year. It will be included in the pantheon of Nolan films when he starts collecting honorary awards several decades from now. I would argue the film is being received so warmly chiefly because, even if you don't like it, you have to marvel at the sheer talent in front of and behind the camera to make a story from antiquity feel fresh for a new audience and for it to have such an authentic look to it. However, I regret to say that while I marvel at the work of these artists, I also felt like I was forced into a cacophonous roller coaster by a director flying a little too close to the sun. Despite the marvelous production they've all participated in, it's at times boring, it's often pretentious, and it's nearly always vituperatively clangorous.   

Written about 3,000 years ago, Homer's Odyssey is one of the oldest works of literature, but it still should be worth noting a few key parts of the plot. (Though there are, of course, artistic liberties Nolan and his team have taken, the film is remarkably faithful to the source material.) After ten years of war between the Greeks and Troy—the one that was launched after Paris of Troy took Helen from her husband, Menelaus—the King Odysseus (Matt Damon) and his men try to finally return home. (Paris, a key character in Homer's Iliad, does not appear in this film adaptation, but Menelaus and Helen do. Helen is played by Lupita Nyong'o, who also plays her sister, Clytemnestra, and Menelaus is played by Jon Bernthal.) Things go awry almost immediately, with the crew becoming lost and encountering all sorts of problems involving witches, sirens, giants, and monsters. 

While Odysseus toils to get to his home, his home is under siege from violent suitors who assure Ithaca's queen, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), that Odysseus is in fact dead and Ithaca needs a new king. The young prince, Telemachus (Tom Holland), could take over, but he is too young. One particularly nasty suitor is named Antinous and is played by Robert Pattinson. He sneakily tries to assure Penelope that if he were to become Ithaca's king, the throne would in fact be Telemachus's...that is, unless Penelope and Antinous were to have a son. At any rate, Antinous, Polybus (played by Corey Hawkins, whom you'll probably recognize from films like Straight Outta Compton, In the Heights, and the newer adaptation of The Color Purple), and the other suitors fully utilize the law requiring hospitality as they dine and make fools of themselves in Odysseus's home, awaiting Penelope to face reality and choose a new king, all while bullying Telemachus, servant Eumaeus (John Leguizamo), and the others.

It seems Nolan (who also wrote the screenplay) wanted to lean in hard on an aesthetic of realism and especially an anti-war theme, which is surprising given the adventurous qualities of Homer's Odyssey. That's a noble intention, especially because the world is engulfed in its highest level of conflicts since the end of World War II and certain elements of "warrior" ethos have crept into the current U.S. military. In this respect, we are to view Odysseus not so much as an action hero or even a cautionary tale due to his being a victim of excessive hubris but instead more like a soldier who might be suffering from post-traumatic stress and has slowly come to the conclusion that maybe, in fact, he's not one of the good guys. Yet whereas the 1997 NBC miniseries of The Odyssey may be criticized for being devoid of much depth, this 2026 Odyssey should be criticized for having too much of it and taking itself too seriously. 

Fortunately, though, none of the actors are going over the top. As a leading man, Damon pulls off yet another win, and while it may not have posed the same challenges as something like Good Will Hunting or The Talented Mr. Ripley did, he is still a commanding presence in this film. He is supported by a rich cast, the most entertaining to watch is most likely Samantha Morton as Circe and Robert Pattinson. Pattinson has chiseled quite a career playing heroes in franchises like Harry Potter, Twilight, and The Batman, as well as arthouse flicks like Good Time and The Lighthouse. Here, he's enticing as the chief suitor, not quite twirling a mustache but nevertheless establishing his character as conniving and very punchable. Morton only appears in one segment, but it is a segment that nevertheless rescues the film from the drudge that it's in. Truth be told, many of the scenes Morton, Pattinson, and the others are in work wonderfully well because, frankly, the original source material is doing much of the heavy lifting. Two apt examples of this are the metamorphosis of Odysseus's men by the witch and the climactic scene (always my favorite). But Nolan, his actors, and his crew do deserve credit for elevating them to make them the stuff of cinematic wonder. (This is quite the crowded cast, by the way. I haven't even mentioned Zendaya, Charlize Theron, Himesh Patel, Mia Goth, Elliot Page, and a whole host of others.) 

Thus, despite my complaints, one must surely tip their hat to Christopher Nolan, a director unlike any other today. Whereas other masters of the cinema have retreated to an overreliance of computer-generated imagery or even a tolerance of AI in filmmaking, Nolan has avoided that temptation in favor of painstaking filmmaking that surely costs a lot ($250 million, to be more precise) and undoubtedly resulted in copious amounts of sweat and tears from members of his team (like cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema, editor Jennifer Lame, production designer Ruth De Jong, costume designer Ellen Mirojnick, and visual effects supervisor Andrew Jackson, all of whom have previously been nominated for Oscars for Nolan films and who most certainly will again be for this one). 

However, much criticism should simultaneously be given to Nolan, his composer (the thrice-Oscar winner Ludwig Göransson), and his sound team led by Richard King for creating what might be the most obnoxiously loud movie in the history of cinema. While the omnipresence of vibrating theater chairs might be a unique experience at first, it really starts to become dreadful once one realizes that it will be a constant element of the viewing experience. I mentioned earlier that this film feels like it embraces nostos by returning Nolan to the action genre, but I, for one, would really be interested in him trying a smaller, quieter film like he used to do. That is a challenge I hope he one day accepts. 

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Man of Steel

It is puzzling. How can I like the emotion of a film so much and yet be so annoyed by its visuals? How can interesting characters surrender to gratuitous special effects? Such is the case with Zack Snyder's "Man of Steel," the newest franchise reboot, this time about, of course, Superman. This is the seventeen-hundredth film I've seen, and I wish I could have left the theater with a bit more excitement.

But it can be said happily that I did leave the theater thinking about the actors. I get the impression that these performers really insisted that they would only sign on if their characters were made more interesting than they were in previous installments, and for the most part, it works. Kevin Costner as Jonathan Kent and Russell Crowe as Jor-El here are not simply cameos. (How cool would it be to have both Kevin Costner and Russell Crowe as fathers?) Superman is fatherless and yet he is not. He has answers, but many of them don't make sense. These two fathers are the moral fabric of the movie. Consider Jor-El's precious goodbye to his only son, and later guidance throughout the film. He is a scientist and a pacifist, ready to engage in a debate to win but just as ready to wield a gun. Also consider Pa Kent's fatherly supervision of young Clark, who is understandably confused (played quite well by young Dylan Sprayberry), far more so than any other teenager. Pa Kent doesn't have many answers, but he does have humility, hope and work ethic, and he tries to instill this in his young adopted son.  He's far more simple than Jor-El, but he's done the best he can. The young Clark panics and begs to keep on pretending to be Jonathan's son. "You are my son," Jonathan replies, holding Clark tightly. It's a moving scene; this is the emotion I mentioned liking so much.

Finally, there's Michael Shannon's performance as Superman's nemesis, General Zod. His multilingual ultimatum to the people of Earth is harrowing. Shannon has a talent for playing villains and morally complex men, but here I think his portrayal is just as much of the latter as it is the former. Zod sees himself as protector of Krypton, and he will fight to save it; he is utilitarianism at its worst. Fortunately, it's not only these four actors I've mentioned who are really good in their roles.  So too are Richard Schiff as a benign scientist, Christopher Meloni as a hawkish military officer, Laurence Fishburne as Daily Planet editor Perry White, and Diane Lane as Martha Kent.  And finally, Henry Cavill as Superman does a remarkable job. He brings unique qualities to the character: youth, vulnerability, pride, confusion, confidence. He deserves accolades for his performance for how well he carries it. But one disappointing aspect of the film is that charming chemistry between Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder in "Superman" from 1978 is missing here.

Do I prefer "Superman" over "Man of Steel"? Definitely not. I found the first film to be dull and silly, a classic example of style over substance. Unfortunately, though, that is prevalent more often than not in "Man of Steel." I mentioned Jor-El's ability to debate. At one point, he is engaged in an argument with Zod. Zod and Jor-El are once comrades but now enemies, at odds with how to ensure the future prosperity of their home, Krypton. As Krypton is destroyed, Jor-El manages to send his son to Earth, far away from Zod, where he hopes his son will lead the people of Earth to a brighter future.  Reunited, the tables have turned. Zod has escaped from prison and is ready to destroy Earth, and he doesn't intend any reason or logic to stop him, despite Jor-El's best efforts. It's an entertaining scene, but it's ruined immediately with a cutaway to Superman being chased by some sort of arm machine.  It's unfortunate that Snyder has let visual effects practically ruin "Man of Steel." Visual effects enhanced, not hindered, his previous comic book film, "Watchmen." Here, it is not the case. The first half-hour or so features special effects that look as bad as they were in "Star Wars: Attack of the Clones" more than a decade ago. The film's second half features a lot of the character-driven scenes I previously mentioned. But with about an hour left to go, the audience must sit through scene after scene of headache-inducing noise and destruction, with the vision of "Independence Day" but the amateurish performance of "Transformers." And just when you think it's over, there's more (and that ain't a good thing). Supposedly, even Superman's cape in the action scenes is CGI.

So now I feel as though the film has not lived up to its very high expectations.  It's a bit ironic that the previous "Superman" film, Bryan Singer's "Superman Returns," which, despite a lot of money and solid reviews (much higher than "Man of Steel"), was deemed so much a failure that the studio felt they needed to reboot their reboot. Studio logic would then dictate that it's time for another reboot. But Superman the character has a great talent for picking himself up, and so I am reminded of previous comic book films. "X-Men" was fairly lame but was followed by an exceptional sequel. "Batman Begins" brought a breath of fresh air to Batman but was not nearly as terrific as Christopher Nolan's masterful "The Dark Knight."  Many fans consider "Spider-Man 2" to be superior to "Spider-Man" (I disagree). So, I have what Superman claims his "S" stands for that the next installment will be much better. This looks like a job for Superman.

Friday, August 3, 2012

The Dark Knight Rises

It occurred to me recently that Christopher Nolan's Batman films are mostly about fear. They explore the fears not only of everyday citizens but also of a man most of us likely thought was never scared: the Dark Knight. Batman probably follows the advice to never let anyone see him bleed, but we see his premonition that perhaps one day he won't be able to prevent terrible things from happening. There are some really scary, terrible things in our world. A recent Gallup poll found that the things Americans fear the most are terrorist attacks, spiders, death, being a failure, war, heights, criminal or gang violence, being alone, the future, and nuclear war. All of these (except spiders and to a lesser extent heights) are featured prominently in Nolan's "The Dark Knight Rises," his final installment of his Batman trilogy.

Years after defeating the Joker and Two-Face (while keeping the true identity of Harvey Dent secret), Batman has left Gotham largely in peace. The Dent Act has kept police officers on the streets, and there is no need for Batman. Bruce Wayne is still injured from previous events, and largely remains a recluse, with hardly anything to do in the world, certainly not protect Gotham.  

But then Bane enters. He is played by Tom Hardy, as chiseled and intimidating as he was in last year's "Warrior." Bane's main goal seems to be to give the power of Gotham "back to the people." But democracy without rules isn't a democracy, it's anarchy, and this is perfect for Bane. He plans on getting his hands on a nuclear bomb and doing a whole lot more to severely disrupt the order of things. Batman is hardly a match for Bane's strength, and Bane seems to enjoy taunting him. "Oh, you think darkness is your ally," he mocks. "You merely adopted the dark. I was born in it, modeled by it...The shadows betray you because they belong to me." (This is Shakespeare compared to the last time we saw Bane, in the dismal 1997 film "Batman and Robin.") How haunting he sounds as he instructs Bruce Wayne that once Gotham is ashes, only then does he have Bane's permission to die. But it's not simply Bane and his malicious army Batman has to worry about--Selina Kyle, better known as Catwoman (Anne Hathaway), is causing quite a bit of mischief as well.  

Nolan is a director who knows his visuals. The opening sequence is a reminder of his talent for unusual, acrobatic stunts, and he seems more prone to use minimalist makeup and a lack of green suits for his characters (which certainly makes him part of a minority among directors). When he does use visual effects, he convinces the audience that every effort was taken to make it look as realistic as possible. One of the previews before the movie was for Sam Raimi's "Oz: The Great and Powerful." The movie looks like it will be filled with computer-generated effects. I was reminded of the visuals of "The Wizard of Oz" from 1939 (the same year as the first "Bat-man" comic) and I thought to myself that while I basically know that Raimi and his team used CGI for the effects, decades later I still don't know how the effects were made for "The Wizard of Oz" and yet they look so much better. The feeling I get from "The Wizard of Oz" is the feeling I get when I watch a Christopher Nolan movie; I'm so amazed at the attention to detail, and his appreciation of visual imagery and his shunning of lazy film making.
 
There are some flaws, of course. Do we need all of these characters? Michael Caine as Alfred, Gary Oldman as Commissioner Gordon, and Morgan Freeman as Lucious Fox are all back, but why have Matthew Modine here as an ambitious cop? What purpose does Marion Cotillard's character really have here?  I'm as big a fan of Joseph Gordon-Levitt as anyone, but what is he doing here?  (My question was answered at the end of the film, and I had mixed feelings about it.) There's a henchman who kind of looks like Willem Dafoe, and I was more interested in him than I was in numerous other characters. The Catwoman scenes are nice, but also are unnecessary. Additionally, this might be the most confusing Batman movie ever. There's something about the stock market and something else about a congressman or something like that. Three hours is a lot to ask for from an audience, and "The Dark Knight Rises" is unjustifiably long, overly ambitious, and increasingly clunky as it moves along. My reaction to "Batman Begins" was excitement that Batman was back; my reaction to "The Dark Knight" was excitement because I recognized that I had just seen a masterpiece. My reaction to "The Dark Knight Rises" was a bizarre sense of being simultaneously overwhelmed and underwhelmed, though ultimately feeling that it was efficient and satisfying.

Likewise, I had mixed feelings about Tom Hardy as Bane.  I admired his physical force, his performance that relies heavily on his voice and eyes, and the thought he likely put behind it.  Still, my reaction to his peculiar voice was similar to my reaction towards Bale's voice as Batman.  At times it works perfectly, and at times it sounds utterly ridiculous.  

At times I was so bored with the movie that I began to compare it to the previous Batman movies by Tim Burton; I still believe his "Batman" from 1989 is the superior one, as I have a preference towards fantastical stories and prefer it to the grittier Nolan versions. Still, one cannot deny Nolan's talent or understate our appreciation for him resurrecting what was surely a dead franchise. Beyond saving it, he brought it back with intelligence and force. Nolan toys with our emotions, as is the case with the scene where Bane and his crew shoot up Wall Street; Nolan shows us the criminality and horror of such weaponry and visualizes the chaos of terrorism.  

Batman has been such an important part of Americana. Originally meant to be a complement to the pride and patriotism (and frankly, lack of realism) of Superman, Batman, particularly Nolan's version of him, has intrigued Americans as the darker, more psychologically and sociologically interesting of the two, and indeed of any American character. Britain recently has shown us a lot of its pride with the Olympics, and who can blame them? After all, they have Bond, the Beatles, and Mr. Bean.  But America has and always will have Batman.





Movies, movies, theater, cinema, watch, watching, watches, view,  see, saw, cinema,  film, flick, motion picture, Dark Knight Rises, Bane, Christian Bale, Christopher Nolan, Batman, Anne Hatheway 

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Inception

Christopher Nolan's "Inception" is a film about characters who perchance to dream. There is something deeply philosophical and fascinating about man's ability to dream, to analyze and reflect on one's own dreams, one's own nightmares, that offers women and men the ability to command such creative power that would make everyone a Dante or Shakespeare, as H.F. Hedge put it, and Nolan capitalizes on this.

There seems to be a genuine dissonance between man's rationality of being awake and the insanity of dreaming, where all absurdity and surrealism is finally available. This is the case with Nolan's film, a film which almost entirely creates a perfect equilibrium between intellectualism and entertainment.

The story is likely inspired by the science and psychology of lucid dreams, that is when a dreamer recognizes and acknowledges that he or she is in a dream. Many characters have such moments in "Inception." The film toys with our own recognition of dreams in that it is difficult to recollect them; we in essence quickly forget what dreams we dreamed. Another aspect is dream incubation, or the placing of a seed in the brain, or inception.

Leonardo DiCaprio plays Cobb, a dream extractor who leads teams to steal secrets from people's dreams. But in this case, for a complicated and quickly-described reason, Cobb and his team are not extracting but creating an idea in someone's mind. Dreams within dreams are created, totems are used to detect whether or not the person is in a dream, and the subjects (those whom the idea is created or stolen from) possess subconscious protections against the extractors. The more dreams-within-dreams that are created, the more risk there is; usually "death" in a dream returns the dreamer to reality, but with heavy sedation (as is the case on the team's special assignment), being killed could result in actual death. To die is truly to sleep for these characters.

Like in Scorsese's "Shutter Island" from earlier this year, DiCaprio's character is a man struggling with deep guilt and alienation. It is as if he exists in a prison when he is awake, and dreaming provides him the perfect escapism. The dreams allow him to take enormous risks, regardless of the potential consequences to him and his team members.

Another wonderful aspect is the fact that Nolan has largely avoided shortchanging his actors. Aside from Michael Caine and Pete Postlethwaite who both have small roles, this is an ensemble piece, with DiCaprio, Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Ken Watanabe, Marion Cotillard, Tom Hardy, Cillian Murphy and Tom Berenger all having important roles.

With Nolan, there is a special attention to detail, and when there are elaborate and expensive CGI images, one gets the sense that Nolan, unlike so many other directions, has not forgotten that the onus is on him to make the audience believe that these images are real. Cities fold onto themselves and characters fly like acrobats in a gravity-less corridor. There are nightmares--Cotillard's near-perfect moments as practically a ghost tormenting Cobb's guilt--filled with sudden horrifying glances, a look that could kill. And then a firm grip with a broken glass, and a powerful charge. And there is the wonder of subtext with regards to psychology and even architecture, all culminating in a film inspired by obvious previous science fiction films.

But this is a film with flaws. While there certainly is a sense of wonder here, that wonder unfortunately often does not go far enough. At times it feels as if there is nothing really new here, unlike other films that have dealt with similar subjects, as varied as Wilcox's "Forbidden Planet" to Hitchcock's "Spellbound," to Kurosawa's "Dreams." This film has been called a Kubrickian masterpiece; it is not. Part of the reason is that Nolan already is one of the best directors around, so the bar is just so high every time, but that does not mean one should not see "Inception." If you can tolerate the intensity, confusion, rapid speed at which the plot is explained, the lack of details to the plot, the real-or-not jargon about our dreams, the non-stop gun fights, etc., then it is a film worth seeing. There are many reasons to see this movie: its thrills, its acting, its cinematography, its ideas and especially its visuals.

You probably have heard about the ending. I won't mention much, other than it will probably make you smile (or groan if you are less patient or intellectually curious), and it would be best not to dwell too much time on it.