Saw three movies this week. Thumbnails of each:
Never Let Me Go—shabby and gray, with ugly men, just like a real visit to England. SF fans will be able to protect themselves from the emotional power of this film by scoffing at the science—boys and girls are cloned and raised in reduced circumstances to be reserve army of donor organs. "But but...it's easier to just grow the organs!" So? You know what other movie had bad science? Ghostbusters, and everyone liked ghostbusters. Wonderful performances here, even from the usually awful Keira Knightley, who even shows off what may be her real teeth. Alex Garland's clever script eliminates Ishiguro's compelling chattiness but captures most of the high points with economy, though the last two lines are a bit foolishly on the nose. "Ho ho, maybe you TOO audience member, are trapped in a world you didn't create!" Carey Mulligan may as well have shouted five inches away from the camera lens. But very good movie.
Let Me In—a dumber and bloodier remake of Let The Right One In. The film was utterly unnecessary and most of the small number of changes made were foolish, really. For the example, the subtle alienation of the housing project in the first film is replaced by sledgehammer hints of social desperation through the rise of the religious right as shown via one character's religious conversion and lots of stock footage of Ronald Reagan. Crappy CGI bits too, though there are several excellent shots that take place in cars. (Not kidding, there's some really compelling automotive cinematography.) One interesting change cements what the original film hinted at (in opposition to the novel). Not only did this film lack the atmosphere of the first, it even lacked the whimsy, though I do wonder if I'd have liked this movie in an alternative universe where I didn't see the original—probably! Chloë Moretz is uncanny as usual; she'll probably grow up into some sort of Jodie Foster figure if Hollywood doesn't kill her in the next decade or so.
Howl—a unique experience, as I saw this film this evening with Gerald Nicosia, Brenda Knight, and Marc Olmsted. The script was a cut-and-paste of Ginsberg interviews, the text of the titular poem, and the transcript of the trial. James Franco is a frighteningly good mimic as both Olmsted and Nicosia testified afterward, and we all like the trial bits. Sadly, the animated sequences that backed much of the recitation of the poem were tedious, despite being created by Eric Drooker. Also lacking was any context for the obscenity case, and Nicosia especially was quite annoyed with the ending, which claimed that Allen Ginsberg helped Kerouac publish On the Road (false) and that intimated that Ginsberg and Peter Orlovsky had an uncomplicated life together as lovers. As biopics go, this wasn't much of one, but it was still pretty compelling, if only to remember a time when poetry was taken seriously, if only by the censorious state. Bonus gossip: Knight believes that Franco is gay but is being kept in the closet by his handlers.
So three pretty interesting films (if only in how they failed in two of the three cases) with excellent performances. It was like Oscar screener week a few months early.
Never Let Me Go—shabby and gray, with ugly men, just like a real visit to England. SF fans will be able to protect themselves from the emotional power of this film by scoffing at the science—boys and girls are cloned and raised in reduced circumstances to be reserve army of donor organs. "But but...it's easier to just grow the organs!" So? You know what other movie had bad science? Ghostbusters, and everyone liked ghostbusters. Wonderful performances here, even from the usually awful Keira Knightley, who even shows off what may be her real teeth. Alex Garland's clever script eliminates Ishiguro's compelling chattiness but captures most of the high points with economy, though the last two lines are a bit foolishly on the nose. "Ho ho, maybe you TOO audience member, are trapped in a world you didn't create!" Carey Mulligan may as well have shouted five inches away from the camera lens. But very good movie.
Let Me In—a dumber and bloodier remake of Let The Right One In. The film was utterly unnecessary and most of the small number of changes made were foolish, really. For the example, the subtle alienation of the housing project in the first film is replaced by sledgehammer hints of social desperation through the rise of the religious right as shown via one character's religious conversion and lots of stock footage of Ronald Reagan. Crappy CGI bits too, though there are several excellent shots that take place in cars. (Not kidding, there's some really compelling automotive cinematography.) One interesting change cements what the original film hinted at (in opposition to the novel). Not only did this film lack the atmosphere of the first, it even lacked the whimsy, though I do wonder if I'd have liked this movie in an alternative universe where I didn't see the original—probably! Chloë Moretz is uncanny as usual; she'll probably grow up into some sort of Jodie Foster figure if Hollywood doesn't kill her in the next decade or so.
Howl—a unique experience, as I saw this film this evening with Gerald Nicosia, Brenda Knight, and Marc Olmsted. The script was a cut-and-paste of Ginsberg interviews, the text of the titular poem, and the transcript of the trial. James Franco is a frighteningly good mimic as both Olmsted and Nicosia testified afterward, and we all like the trial bits. Sadly, the animated sequences that backed much of the recitation of the poem were tedious, despite being created by Eric Drooker. Also lacking was any context for the obscenity case, and Nicosia especially was quite annoyed with the ending, which claimed that Allen Ginsberg helped Kerouac publish On the Road (false) and that intimated that Ginsberg and Peter Orlovsky had an uncomplicated life together as lovers. As biopics go, this wasn't much of one, but it was still pretty compelling, if only to remember a time when poetry was taken seriously, if only by the censorious state. Bonus gossip: Knight believes that Franco is gay but is being kept in the closet by his handlers.
So three pretty interesting films (if only in how they failed in two of the three cases) with excellent performances. It was like Oscar screener week a few months early.