312. Django Unchained

312. (19 Dec) Django Unchained (2012, Quentin Tarantino) 75



Coming off the lean, perfectly structured Inglourious Basterds, it's not really a surprise or much a disappointment that Django Unchained isn't on par. Mostly, it's the absence of Sally Menke as film editor that's deeply felt, since this doesn't have the sharpness her collaborations with Tarantino had. But this is nevertheless engaging and exhilarating. To his credit, the substantial runtime isn't felt for a second due to clever scripting that crafts believable relationships and allows on-screen time to pass fluidly.

Christoph Waltz is certainly the standout here, though Leonardo DiCaprio sinks his teeth into a menacing role. Samuel L. Jackson, offering a variation on his same old schtick, is impossibly fun to watch chew scenery. Jamie Foxx and Kerry Washington could have been recast midway through the film without anyone noting their absence.

Robert Richardson's cinematography is outstanding, as are the sets and costumes. Oscar nominations for most technical aspects are in order.

It took two viewings of Inglourious Basterds to fully appreciate this, so I have every intention of revisiting Django. It's so dense and thoughtful, full of nuanced arcs, all the while being quite reverential to its genre. There's a great deal to take in on a single go-around, and surely much reward in a second or third attempt.

284. Mister 880

284. (24 Nov) Mister 880 (1950, Edmund Goulding) 40



Burt Lancaster hams it up as a Secret Service agent tracking down a counterfeiter. He has cute scenes opposite Dorothy McGuire as they great distracted from the task at hand by falling in love. But that no one suspects Edmund Gwenn, despite his constant presence at crime scenes and his fitting the profile, prevents this from feeling suspenseful or believable. Gwenn's Oscar nomination is absurd; just like in Miracle on 34th Street he's a genial old man with a courtroom scene, but there's no substance to this performance whatsoever.

277. Silver Linings Playbook

277. (17 Nov) Silver Linings Playbook (2012, David O. Russell)* 31



Grating and mind-numbingly pandering, there's not a single genuine moment to be found in Silver Linings Playbook. There is, at least, the effervescent presence of Jennifer Lawrence, who at least elevates every scene she's in. But she's the only one bringing nuanced work alongside actors who are pure caricature. Bradley Cooper, Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver, in particular, could hardly be in worse form, offering performances without the slightest hint of humanity in them.

David O. Russell's script is pure amateurism. He feels the need to cram all of his small ensemble into every scene, even when they have no place there (e.g. the psychiatrist at the football game, the cop at the dance competition). This gives the false sense that people from all walks of life are bonding when, in fact, this underscores the phoniness. And what could be further from reality when, out of nowhere, someone shouts to a busload of Philadelphia Eagles fans who happen to be Indian, "Go back to your own country! The Eagles are our team!"

The gags here are about as subtle, revolving around something as stupid as a mispronunciation of Trazodone. The so-called drama includes a manic episode where Cooper freaks out about his missing wedding video. Such scenes are painfully out of place considering the serious tonal shift it requires from broad comedy, but it emphasizes just how bad Cooper is in the lead. It's all the more reason why I'm certainly overrating Lawrence, who at least can read a line without seeming like she's in a high school play.

268. Lincoln

268. (10 Nov) Lincoln (2012, Steven Spielberg)* 51



With their decisively titled Lincoln, Spielberg and company have invited the expectation that this will be the definitive film about the man's life and work. This is no sweeping biopic, however, as it narrowly focuses on his efforts to get the 13th Amendment through the House of Representatives. The confinement in time, along with Tony Kushner's careful selections of scenes, the right dramatic moments, and a surprising amount of humor keep this reined in. But other than a superb performance from Daniel Day-Lewis, this in no other way lives up to an overly ambitious title.

Spielberg attempts to play silly tricks on us, trying to draw suspense out of the final House of Representatives vote, for instance, which plays like we're watching C-SPAN more than anything else. A far more questionable decision comes when we're misled into thinking we're at Ford's Theater at the moment of assassination when in fact we're at another theater entirely.

Kushner understandably has to inject expository dialogue here and there, but it's often shockingly clumsy. Scenes with Sally Field, as a thoroughly unconvincing Mary Todd Lincoln, are full of bits where she explains something that's happened in years past, from her buggy accident to the death of their son. It places on undue burden on Field, who has to enlighten us on critical history that would be far more compelling if it had played out on-screen.

The cast is a mixed bag. Tommy Lee Jones and Lee Pace are the strongest scene stealers. Many smaller roles are downright distracting, notably appearances by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Adam Driver and S. Epatha Merkerson. Work by Michael Stuhlburg and Walton Goggins is shamefully lacking in nuance.

To Lincoln's credit, the film mostly make efforts not to be too much a revisionist history. Only a dopey moment where Mary Todd and Abraham chat about how history will remember them, near the film's end, feels totally unnecessary. Injecting African-American characters into a story that might otherwise have only been about white people granting equality is also well-advised.

In terms of crafts, Janusz Kaminski's cinematography looks like something you'd see on the History Channel. A handful of sets stand out, but the costumes are wholly unremarkable. John Williams has composed a subdued score that reminds me just how shameless and boisterous his work on War Horse was.

247. Argo

247. (13 Oct) Argo (2012, Ben Affleck)* 76



Ben Affleck continues to be one of the most consistent, exciting directors working today with Argo. Though this tense, taut thriller plays exquisitely throughout, it's hard not to relish the details. From the old Warner Bros. logo that opens the film to the outstanding production design to an ensemble all but destined to win a SAG Award, Affleck manages to barely falter in a film precariously straddling genres. The comedic bits set in Los Angeles are admittedly very funny, but some of that scripting is too on-the-nose in a way that's not in keeping with the more organic feel of the thriller segments. Alan Arkin's crowd-pleasing performance is especially out of step with the powerful work of the Houseguests. All the plots wrap up a little too tidily, as well, but it's too satisfying to matter much.

205. The Master

205. (16 Sep) The Master (2012, Paul Thomas Anderson)* 76



It's not disappointing to see Paul Thomas Anderson in such similar territory to There Will Be Blood, but the earlier film's such a stronger indictment of religion and a more ordered, compelling narrative. It's still extraordinary to see Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman build off one another's performances with such collaborative spirit. The deprogramming scene, in particular, is an acting master class. Each man's use of charisma to different ends is intriguing enough and there's much to be said for the strength of Anderson's script. However, the film's final third feels sluggish, distractingly on-the-nose when when Amy Adams delivers a monologue in her last scene. Adams seems slightly out of place here, simply not keeping up with her co-stars. With the most limited of screentime, Laura Dern makes a far better impression. It's difficult to imagine anything will come close to matching Mihai Malaimare Jr.'s perfect cinematography.

008. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

008. (05 Jan) /Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close/ (2011, Stephen Daldry)* 82



On a second viewing, I can truly appreciate what powerful filmmaking this is. The emotional weight Daldry lends to both simple scenes, like Thomas Horn's scenes opposite Jeffrey Wright and Viola Davis, and the powerhouse ones like Horn's with Bullock. It's a rarity when fine acting, focused direction, and technical achievement combine like this. Chris Menges' cinematography and Alexandre Desplat's score are especially wonderful.

The film itself is repeatedly an outright devastating experience. I can scarcely recall being more moved by situational sadness or finely drawn connections between characters. Daldry continues to be the most accomplished of emotion-driven directors working today.

486. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

486. (07 Dec) Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (2011, Stephen Daldry)* 82

483. Beginners

483. (04 Dec) Beginners (2011, Mike Mills) 66



The structure of Beginners gets a little too cutesy at times, but it's also rather dreamlike. Dramatic events are exaggerated, as are the romantic ones, as if remembered too tragically or fondly. That makes it easy to invest yourself in the film even if there's some deck-stacking in play. Anything with an adorable, subtitled dog is obviously aiming to crowd please. But I was nevertheless drawn in by Ewan McGregor and Melanie Laurent's adorable romance. Christopher Plummer's performance is warm and well-crafted. He's a deserving Oscar frontrunner considering this year's Supporting Actor category will otherwise look abysmal.

463. My Week with Marilyn

463. (13 Nov) My Week with Marilyn (2011, Simon Curtis)* 56



While Kenneth Branagh and Julia Ormond are completely unbelievable as Laurence Olivier and Vivien Leigh, Michelle Williams immediately convinces us she's inhabiting the role of Marilyn Monroe. She gets everything right, particularly Marilyn's deer in the headlights look. Singing her own songs and recreating some iconic moments, it's easy to see how she got into the Best Actress discussion early on.

The film itself isn't much to speak of. Joyce Carol Oates' novel Blonde would've been better to adapt since this offers only so much insight and ultimately is just a tired celebrity encounter story. But for what it is, it's an enjoyable look into a bygone era of filmmaking. Oddly enough, the film never feels cinematic. All those comparisons to TV movies are apt. Eddie Redmayne and Judi Dench also offer worthwhile performances.

422. Moneyball

422. (24 Sep) Moneyball (2011, Bennett Miller)* 74



With zingers clearly written by Aaron Sorkin and under Bennett Miller's intensely focused direction, Moneyball's clearest fault is its tendency to be too on the nose. Nevertheless, it's captivating filmmaking that defies sports genre cliches. (It's a novelty that Moneyball is about an underdog team that's poised to defy all the odds, but doesn't actually go the distance.) Unlike most films integrating sports or new footage, Miller isn't reliant on them. Instead, he sustains tension or lets us off the hook to craft a bona fide crowd-pleaser. Brad Pitt and Chris Pratt give the film's most accomplished performances.

420. Warrior

420. (17 Sep) Warrior (2011, Gavin O'Connor)* 39



An underdog story has rarely had less suspense or momentum than what's found in Warrior. The script is laughably cliched and trite from the first scene, failing to ever establish characters and constantly waiting to fill in back-story when it's most convenient to the plot. The whole plot is so preposterous, however, that there's never any pay-off. If these characters put their brooding machismo aside for half a second, there would be no conflict whatsoever. Without convincing motivation, it's hard to root for anybody. The scripting issues might have been overcome if the ensemble were at all good or if there was some level of technical proficiency.

I can't recall ever seeing a studio film photographed this poorly. Grainy close-ups, even in the repetitive fight sequences, make it almost impossible for O'Connor to establish space. Fights are over and done with without a clear idea of what just happened. (The effect is really not successful enough for me to think it's an intentional aesthetic choice.)

Tom Hardy swaggers about like he thinks he's Marlon Brando, but the only thing they really have in common is a beefy frame. Joel Edgerton doesn't look like he's at all related to Hardy, but he's a slightly more amiable presence. Nick Nolte gives his umpteenth performance as a hurt puppy dog.

There are a few good laughs to be had here, particularly when unnecessary announcers and commentators pop up to fill us in on plot details when the writers don't know how else to let things unfold. When melodrama is this clueless and self-serious, it's hard not to be a little bemused. It's really rare to see awfulness compound like this.