323. Santa's Slay

323. (24 Dec) Santa's Slay (2005, David Steiman) 29



I'll give this points for creativity in its kills, but you'd think this would be less awful considering how much fun it's having with itself. Amateurism wins out at every turn, keeping this from being capable horror or comedy. The clear highlight is the cold open, featuring Chris Kattan and Fran Drescher, which ultimately sets us up for the disappointing film which follows.

Review: Six Shooter (2005)

Conroy and Gleeson on the train.

Directed by Martin McDonagh
Produced by Kenton Allen and Mia Bays
Written by Martin McDonagh
Starring Brendan Gleeson, Ruaidhri Conroy, David Wilmot, Aisling O'Sullivan, Gary Lydon, Domhnall Gleeson, and David Murray

****

Martin McDonagh's Oscar-winning short is headlined by Brendan Gleeson and unknown Ruaidhri Conroy as a pair of train passengers. Mr. Donnelly (Gleeson) has just lost his wife, when he sits across from a "kid" (Conroy) on the train. Across from them are a man and a woman who's just lost her infant son. What should be a brief, relatively normal train ride turns into a violent affair that is downbeat, jarring, and, ironically, funny. 

As a clear precursor to In Bruges, much of the film consists of the two leads having offensive, hilarious conversations, including a memorable, outlandish story about a cow. It's not surprising that McDonagh's film debut uses his off-color humor in the dialogue, and his distinctive style is also incorporated effectively. Gleeson's character is a depressed, endearing protagonist, fleshed out by the always brilliant veteran performer. Also, Conroy's humorous performance appears to have been studied by Colin Farrell for his lauded portrayal of Ray in 2008's In Bruges. Both of the actors inhabit their characters wonderfully, conveying their subtle pain and spouting blunt witticisms without pushing the material too far. Though, this duo is merely the tip of the iceberg compared to what McDonagh would deliver with his first feature. This film is dark and amusing, and, even though it's only twenty-seven minutes long, it belongs in the conversation with McDonagh's two features. 

Oscar Tally: Best Short Film, Live Action (won)

213. Lackawanna Blues

213. (19 Sep) Lackawanna Blues (2005, George C. Wolfe) 47



S. Epatha Merkerson's world-weary performance is outstanding and the clear standout in an ensemble full of famous faces. She's giving a plainly theatrical performance, fitting in well with George C. Wolfe's stagy, episodic production. This is clearly his first feature, uncinematic and mostly ineffective, but he gets the best out of his actors minus a hammy Jimmy Smits.

Hidden (Caché) 2005, **

(While I try to avoid including too many spoilers, I have to discuss a big one in the following post.)

There is absolutely no music in Hidden (Caché) (2005). I don’t know why this is a big deal to me, but it is.  I suspect the slow, deliberate style of director Michael Haneke seemed even more drawn out than usual to me because this film literally lacked rhythm. I’m a fan of cerebral dramas, but sometimes directors just take things one step too far intellectually even for me.  Haneke has said that his films are “polemical statements against the American ‘barrel down' cinema and its disempowerment of the spectator—they are an appeal for a cinema of insistent questions instead of false answers.” He has illustrated this cinematic philosophy in such other films as Funny Games (1997), The Piano Teacher (2001), and The White Ribbon (2010).  If you have seen those films (along with the one being reviewed here), then you know what I do: Haneke makes movies that are uncomfortable to watch.  His films are filled with mentally unstable people who do extremely irrational things in very calm manners.  As such, he presents cinema that is jarring and exhausting to watch.

Caché is a French film that will make you ask a lot of unanswered questions. The first few minutes of the movie are a static long shot of a quiet suburban street in Paris. This is followed by the screen turning into a fast-forwarded VHS tape with an unseen couple discussing why they are watching a recording of the front-side of their home.  Soon we are introduced to Georges (Daniel Auteuil) and Anne Laurent (Juliette Binoche), a married couple who start to receive strange tapes, drawings, and phone calls from a creepy anonymous source.  Not long after this it is revealed that a sordid incident from Georges’ adolescence may be connected to these events. When he confronts the person he thinks may be responsible (Maurice Bénichou), things begin to slowly-spiral out of control. 

Okay, I can’t give this movie a poor rating because the dialogue and acting are superb. Other than the fact that Binoche is dressed like some Bohemian bag-lady in many of her scenes, there isn’t much that irks me about the characters or how they communicate with one another.  Yes, it is strange how calm they remain when horrible things happen, but I can overlook this because, well, they are French and lets face it, the French have a strange jena se qua.  Yet, there is just something I don’t like (other than the lack of music) about Caché: I had too many unanswered questions at the end of it.  (Spoiler alert) After being totally shocked upright out of my seat by Majid (Bénichou) slitting his own throat, I thought I had a clear understanding of what had taken place and who was responsible for what.  Then his son (Walid Afkir) showed up and all of my understanding slowly dissipated.  To make matters worse, the film ended in the most idiotic fashion, with yet another static long shot of the front of a school, and that’s it.  Will there be a sequel? I certainly hope not.

While it may have won all sorts of awards and earned the praise of many critics, Caché is not what I would classify as must-see cinema.  It just really pissed me off—but not in such a way that I loathed it and wanted to write hate-mail to Haneke.  Now that I’ve seen most of Haneke’s oeuvre, I think I know what to expect from him.  His work makes me uncomfortable and I am forced to think about it after the credits roll—I’m sure that is his intention. 

154. The Life and Death of Peter Sellers

154. (15 Aug) The Life and Death of Peter Sellers (2005, Stephen Hopkins) 53



Odd directorial choices abound in The Life and Death of Peter Sellers with some unnecessary breaking of the fourth wall and editing that rarely feels less than choppy. It's only a thoroughly absorbing performance from Geoffrey Rush that holds this together. He's continuously better than the too ambitious script. The film just can't delve into his personal life without coming across as disingenuous. For instance, scenes with his children all feel like this should be titled Daddie Dearest.

151. Warm Springs

151. (13 Aug) Warm Springs (2005, Joseph Sargent) 51



Warm Springs tells a more dramatic tale of FDR's battle against polio than Sunrise at Campobello. This look at an unfaithful, sad sack Franklin and chilly Eleanor feels overly critical of the pair. In an attempt to keep them relatable, this repeatedly ventures into mawkish territory where a teary-eyed FDR is repeatedly confronted for feeling sorry for himself. During such scenes, Joseph Sargent does nothing to conceal that he's making a movie in tone and appearance that's for the small screen.

Kenneth Branagh gives a convincing turn as Franklin while Cynthia Nixon is more teeth than performer as Eleanor. Kathy Bates is amiable in a supporting role while Jane Alexander, who bested her for the Emmy, is not noteworthy in the slightest.

Oscar Campaign Bust #2: The Libertine

This 2005 film about John Wilmot, the Earl of Rochester, featured a phenomenal performance from Johnny Depp, great costume work, and a haunting score by Michael Nyman. The film was yet another product of The Weinstein Company that came and went ignored by Oscar's radar.

Did it deserve to be nominated? Yes, at the very least a Best Actor nod for Johnny Depp in what I consider to be the finest leading male performance of the Aughts.