Like Crazy

Like Crazy, 2011
Directed by Drake Doremus

Jacob, an American, and Anna, a Brit, meet at college in California and fall in love. When Anna overstays her Visa, the two find themselves seperated.

After the first viewing of the trailer a long time ago, I was excited to watch it. It was a romance film, but it was also receiving good reviews from critics, and was winning film festival awards. So I knew it'd be a little bit better of a film than something like Dear John. And between watching that trailer and reviewing it now, I've watched this film four or five times.

This film is pretty unique in a few ways. It was shot on a DSLR camera. You know, like one of those Canon T2i ones. So it already has this indie hipster feel. Additionally, most of the dialogue between Anna and Jacob was improvised. Drake Doremus gave the general direction of what he wanted to happen in each scene, but Anton Yelchin (Jacob) and Felicity Jones (Anna) did the rest mostly improve. So that being said, this film would either be pretty stiff and awkward, or it would be very natural and realistic. And it was definitely the latter that came through. The two of them have funny little conversations, and really seem to think through the questions they ask each other, like they would in real life. It's cute, and believable, and makes it seem like you're watching a real couple. It doesn't sound at all scripted, because they aren't saying anything cliche or poetic. It's just them, and it's really neat to watch.

Felicity Jones, who portrays journalist and fashion writer Brit Anna, continually broke my heart throughout this whole movie. Felicity Jones won a few small awards for her portrayal as Anna, including the Sundance Special Jury Best Actress, National Board of Review Breakthrough Performance, The New Hollywood award from the Hollywood Film Festival, and breakthrough awards at both the Empire and Gotham awards. Needless to say, Felicty Jones was pretty flawless in this film. She was confused, and heartbroken, and obsessed. She couldn't let her first love go. And just seeing her cry as Jacob leaves her at the airport, kills you, as it does Jacob ("oh man, you're really killing me..." as he cries as well).

Anton Yelchin, on the other hand, won nothing for his portrayal as Jacob. To me, his performance is severely underrated. Jacob is so different, yet so similar to Anna. They're both quirky, like Paul Simon, and is just really goofy, yet really artsy too. But Jacob tries to move on when they decide to. He knows he still loves Anna, but he tries to go on with his life, whereas Anna is a lot more tied to the past and their history. Not to say Jacob doesn't love Anna, because he does, but he shows it in different ways. Anton really balances the conflicted side of Jacob, and the fun-loving goofy side, and also the sensitive side.

Overall, I love this film so much. The music is gorgeous, and while it's made up of so many montage scenes, they also don't feel scripted either. They're goofy, and unconventional, and you really think these 2 people are in love in their quirky ways.

The ending, while some people were unsatisfied, it so portrays the way things end in real life. I won't say much more, but I'll say I respect the direction Drake Doremus chose to go and how to end it. It's heartbreaking, yet so believable.

Yes, I love this movie, and pretty much everything about it. It's sad, it's cute, it's comfy, it's a tearjerker, but overall, it's lovely, with hearbreaking performances (and also a nice little Jennifer Lawrence in it!).

8.5/10

THE BEAVER

Written by Kyle Killen

Directed by Jodie Foster

Starring Mel Gibson, Jodie Foster, Anton Yelchin and Jennifer Lawrence

The Beaver: Everybody needs a friend, Walter, and you've got me.

Who does depression hurt? Everybody. Ordinarily, this would mean to include everyone directly involved with a person suffering from depression but thanks to Jodie Foster, now depression can also hurt everyone who comes to see her latest directorial effort, THE BEAVER, as well. While I’m sure she was well intentioned, Foster’s eager beaver preoccupation with rehabilitating the image of her maligned co-star, Mel Gibson, must have distracted her from seeing that the film’s lack of focus was ultimately gnawing away at its own foundation the whole time.

It is no secret that THE BEAVER is meant to be a prestige picture designed to remind the filmgoing public that they once loved Gibson for his talent and charisma, both of which have returned fully to form in THE BEAVER. While Gibson may successfully handle the material, this does not mean the material itself is doing him any good. Gibson is Walter Black, a family man with a successful career who just can’t seem to be happy. He is hopelessly depressed, as we are reminded frequently at the film’s onset, and he has tried every therapy known to man to fix himself save for one. Up until now, he has never considered giving into his depression and just allowing it to take over his life. Enter the beaver.

After an unsuccessful suicide attempt, Walter snaps and begins living through the beaver, a puppet that has seen better days but that now rests comfortably on Walter’s left hand and speaks in a delightfully chipper Australian accent. Apparently, the inherently playful nature of the beaver makes it possible for Walter to instantaneously shelf his bigger issues and function successfully again in society, despite society’s discomfort with his unorthodox manner of expression. Gibson goes back and forth between his two personas with impressive ease, finding himself in some rather uncomfortable predicaments. Still, the tone of the film gets confused – is this psychotic lapse meant to be jovial? The underlying quirkiness borders on offensive at times, as it undermines the seriousness of the situation at hand.

The beaver places a convenient wall between Walter and all he encounters, protecting him from hurt and pain. Foster’s oversimplification of the subject matter takes that same wall and puts it up between THE BEAVER itself and it’s audience. We are never allowed in to the movie, which makes some sense considering all the characters have their own metaphoric beavers to protect themselves as well. The insinuation though that if we would just let down our guards and allow people in, no matter how difficult that may be, is almost insulting to those of us who still walk the world alone. The fact that the advice comes from a puppet is what ultimately damns the whole thing.