Yet another buddy comedy, albeit with a few jokes

      Judd Apatow is often hailed as one of the best things to have happened in American mainstream comedy cinema. He has spawned a new breed of buddy-comedies, with regular looking, pot-smoking social outcasts and lovable weirdos . I Love You, Man is not an Apatow film but the influences and the cast come straight out of an Apatow flick. The film stars Apatow regulars Paul Rudd and Jules Segal as Peter Claven and Sydney Fife.

   Peter Claven, a real estate agent, is getting engaged to Zooey (Rashida Jones) only to be faced with dilemma of finding a best man. Peter, in his relentless pursuit of girlfriends, didn’t make many male friends and gets upset when his wife and her friends taunt him about it. He meets Sydney Fife at a house sale and strikes an instant friendship. Complications ensue as he starts spending more time with Sydney as his fiancé forces him to make a choice between her and Sydney.

   On the upside, the film has several funny moments and is without doubt, enjoyable to people with an affinity for buddy comedies. Paul Rudd is amiable and funny, and Segal is perfectly cast as the languid yet charming, Sydney Fife. Rashida Jones and the rest of the cast just ham their way through their roles. The sex jokes and scatological references could start getting annoying and unoriginal at times but the film aims at nothing more than being a perfect wagon for the lead actors. Though the film doesn’t achieve the comedic heights of Apatow films like The 40 Year Old Virgin or Superbad, it is nevertheless promises a pleasant time out.

Rating: 3/5

                                            Mickey Rourke (left) in The Wrestler


A dark,uplifing tale of a professional wrestler

    Over the last few decades, professional entertainment wrestling has gained a notorious amount of exposure that it is impossible for someone to be ignorant about this phenomenon any longer. Vince Mcmahon, the CEO of World Wrestling Entertainment (erstwhile WWF) has propelled this art of faking a fight into a lucrative marketable commodity that thrives on the adrenaline pumping, latent savageness of millions of spectators all over the world. (I was drawn into it for a while till things started getting a little mundane and far-fetched, even with my inclination towards everything barbaric). Professional wrestlers are sought after in the film industry nowadays, with The Rock, John Cena and Stone Cold Steve Austin, all having made their foray into Hollywood. They are modern-day gladiators on steroids, with finesse and an eye for showmanship. They fake fights for a living, and a number of them end up with a life-threatening injury, only to fade away from public imagination. Their private lives are often gone unnoticed. Millions of adolescents worship their wrestling incarnations but few seem to know about their everyday afflictions. With news of the deaths of professional wrestlers like Chris Benoit and Eddie Guerrero, an occasional fan like me tends to quiver at the painful, traumatic life they lead behind the scenes. But the show goes on, they entertain and people forget. The latest venture by Darren Aronofsky (Pi, The Requiem for a Dream, The Fountain) is the story of one such wrestler, Randy ‘’The Ram’’ Robinson.

 The Ram (Mickey Rourke) was a legend in his day, but now commands only smaller arenas, which are usually frequented by nostalgic old fans. He works at delis and supermarkets for a living, has a trailer van for a home and an estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) for a family. He finds solace, isolation and a sort of peaceful anonymity in a strip club, where he is drawn to a stripper, Cassidy (Marisa Tomei). He gets an offer to relive the greatest match of his career, a return bout with Ayatollah (based on the real life wrestler who goes by the name The Iron Sheik). His coke-snorting, pill-popping, weight lifting lifestyle takes a toll on his body as he suffers a stroke which makes any form of wrestling fatal. He tries to mend the broken ties with his daughter, and gets closer to Cassidy, only to realize that wrestling is all that he can do. The Ram, a demi-god in the ring and a failure in life, in an act of stoical resignation, decides to fight Ayatollah with a weak heart and a burning passion- a passion to entertain. Many professional wrestlers like ‘’Rowdy’’ Roddy Piper, admitted to have been moved to tears after watching this film. Such is the impact that a film like this has on the viewer.

 The character of The Ram, in a career-best, infectious performance by Mickey Rourke, is analogous to John Travolta’s character (Tony Manero) in Saturday Night Fever. Both characters are not necessarily a success in life but inside their own little avenues of cult worship, the wrestling ring for Randy and the dance floor for Manero, they are nothing short of gods. They entertain and inspire the crowd and this act shapes their identities to a large extent. Duality is another theme that the movie explores. The Ram/Randy is a popular wrestler as well as a man scurrying for odd jobs; Cassidy/Pam is a stripper and a single mother; The Ram’s daughter is a closet lesbian. Then there is the issue of the wrestlers. They struggle to find stability between their succulent stage avatars and the fairly monotonous, struggling real-life characters. The film sparkles in terms of complexity and rises above a usual sports film, where the emphasis is usually on the end result and not on the story or the characters.             

 The Wrestler is a departure for Aronofsky in terms of cinematic vision. The trademarks of his direction are still here- the rapid editing, the evocative Clint Mansell score- but this film is fairly straightforward, a character study from a very shrewd director. The rest of the cast shines, especially Marisa Tomei as the troubled stripper, Cassidy. The excellent camera work of Maryse Alberti deserves accolades. If you thought the fights in Raging Bull or the Rocky series were raw and visceral, the ones in The Wrestler would take the viewer to a different level of vicarious torture. Rourke, a former boxer, has put in an astonishing degree of physical acting that you can’t help but believe when he claims that a number of stunts were performed without the aid of a body double. The film has a decent theme song by Bruce Springsteen and is certainly one of the best English language films, if not the best, released in the year. A lot of hue and cry have been raised on the anti-Iranian sentiments depicted in the film, but one has to realize that the wrestling entertainment industries always thrive on this playful chauvinism which adds to the charm of seeing a bunch of hulks making us believe that they are fighting a cause which has been settled hours before they even stepped into the ring.

Rating: 5/5

         The multiple award winner, Slumdog Millionaire, the critic's favourite of the season, has been overwhelmingly touted as one of the best films of the year. I approached the film with apprehensions that belied my beaming exterior. The film, which is about an 18 year-old boy called Jamal (played by Dev Patel), plays out like a fairy tale of sorts. Jamal, who works in a busy call-centre in Mumbai as a chaiwallah (tea vendor) fortuitously gets into the Indian version of Who Wants To Be a Millionaire?. He defies all expectations by answering each question that comes his way, much to the angst of the scheming talk show host, Prem Kumar (played by the veteran Bollywood actor, Anil Kapoor). Danny Boyle uses a series of flashbacks to disclose Jamal's fantastically impossible journey into television history. On the eve of the 'one-million question', a suspicious Prem Kumar hands Jamal over to the police for interrogation. It is later revealed that Jamal has been using the quiz show as a means to be reunited with the love of his life, Latika (Freida Pinto), who was separated from him in the slums of Mumbai after being betrayed by his brother, Salim. After a predictable finale, the film just validated the doubts I had in the first place. Danny Boyle, who had made the wonderful Trainspotting (1996) band the woeful The Beach (2000) seems to have been confused about his vision. On one hand, the film appeals to us as a mellowed version of City of God, while on the other, it works as a routine Bollywood film, complete with glorious impossibilities and vibrancy. It is the balance between the neorealist elements and the popcorn romance that the script by Simon Beaufoy is desperately lacking in. One couldn't help but notice the fact that, in spite of the authenticity of the sets, cast and crew, the film looks into the slums of Mumbai with a tinted magnifying glass of stereotypes. Unlike the visceral and gutsy Salaam Bombay (1988), which dealt with a similar theme, Slumdog Millionaire is just a regular boy-girl flick embellished by a healthy dose of violence and poverty. In all fairness to the film, it is colourful, enjoyable, slickly edited and features some brilliant acting from the kids who portray the younger versions of Jamal and Salim. Yet, under all the hype that has been heaved on to this film, it falls short of being a classic that some critics claim it is. With the Golden Globes riding on its back, this film was certain to illuminate the glistening eyes of the Oscar judges. Poverty and violence do appeal to the image of Oscars. The status of an underdog wouldn't hurt either.

Rating: 3/5

Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet in Revolutionary Road (2008)

                                       Dark Days in the lives of the Wheelers

      Perhaps, no other contemporary director could capture the essence of American suburbia more passionately than Sam Mendes. The latest offering from the director who gave us the fabulous American Beauty (1998) is a visceral visualization of the breakdown of a marriage. Adapted from one of the greatest American novels ever written, Mendes has set up a riveting framework for the lead actors to immerse into their characters. The film is about the dreams and distresses of the Wheeler family-their love, their hopes and their troubles. Frank Wheeler has a job that he doesn't like while his dreamer wife, April wants them to be the couple that their neighbour's aren't. Doubts, discussions and distress ensue as the pair tries to tread their way through murky waters. Kate Winslet and Leonardo Dicaprio finally reunite, as the Wheelers, eleven years after the big-budget, ship-sinking chick-flick, Titanic (1997). Those Kleenex-covered girls who wished a better life for the couple would be disappointed with Revolutionary Road, as the actors move toward more minefields in their on-screen relationship. Watching this film is like leafing through a photo album, with scenes compiled together, like snapshots. Roger Deakins has once again done an excellent job in cinematography, providing us with beautifully rendered frames of suburbian ambience, evoking his legendary association with the Coen brothers. While Thomas Newman's understated score aptly sets the sombre mood for the film, it is Michael Shannon’s (Shotgun Stories) snarling performance as the raving lunatic son of the Givens’ that moves the story forward.

      Though this is a great film, it still falls short of achieving the impact unleashed by the original novel. Richard Yates opted for an efficient directness in narrating the story while Mendes has sacrificed the passivity in the novel for emotional interludes on several occasions. The film is more likely to appeal to viewers who haven’t read the novel. Reading the book was a lasting experience, but I wouldn’t necessarily wish to revisit this photo album, despite its pleasant diversions.

Rating: 3.5/5

      The exact translation of Entre les murs would read as Between the Walls. This is precisely what this Palme D'or winning film by Laurent Cantet deals with. Based on a semi-autobiographical novel by François Bégaudeau, Cantet, in a wildly bold move, has cast Begaudeau himself in the role of the protagonist Francois Marin. Francois is a French teacher in a middle class Paris school. His class is an ethnically diverse mixture of confused students. Francois is frank and sincere and believes in mutual respect when it comes to his relationship with students.  

      The Class is filmed in Cinema-verite style, often rendering a documentary atmosphere to the film. The Class room is a battlefield of racial arguments, boiling attitudes and cultural clashes. The story, which covers a full academic year, follows Francois in his attempts to inspire the students into venting their anguish and angst as outputs of creative development. We are made witness to the banal life of high-school teachers, with their weekly meetings often reduced to the discussion of expulsion of a student or the rising price of coffee in the vending machine. The film eventually zeroes in on the incidents involving Suleimaan, an immigrant student from Mali, who has trouble adhering to the disciplinary rules of the school. Francois becomes embroiled in an incident involving two girls, whom he indicts as behaving like ‘’skanks’’. They interpret this term as a derogatory slang for prostitutes. Suleimaan jumps to their defence and ends up having a minor physical tussle with Francois. Suleimaan gets called for a disciplinary hearing to discuss his expulsion, while the class complains about the offensive behaviour of Francois. Suleimaan eventually gets expelled and Francois resumes with his classes, only to find a bunch of students whose future inevitably seems drawn to the streets. 

    The film is considered by many to be an acute representation of contemporary France, with its eclectic groups of immigrants and rising tensions. Football unites these students, but their allegiance is divided between France and their country of origin. The film, by constraining itself to a small classroom, addresses the dogmas and identity issues faced by an entire nation. The Class  is a film that Hollywood could never produce. In an industry where classroom dramas are twisted into idealistic, inspirational stories for self-gratification and profit (Dead Poet’s Society, Freedom Writers), this small French film could work as an example of honest, direct cinema, devoid of manipulation or melodrama.

Rating: 4.5/5

                                 


Julia Roberts (left)  and Clive Owen (right) in Duplicity, 2008.


 The latest spy-thriller to hit the screens is Duplicity, director Tony Gilroy's (Michael Clayton) second outing. The film reunites the pair of Clive Owen and Julia Roberts once again after Closer. Clive Owen was a strong candidate to be the next James Bond before Daniel Craig took over. As if to prove a point, he has been appearing in several James Bondesque roles in films like Shoot ‘em Up, The International and now, Duplicity. Clive Owen would have made a very good Bond but perhaps, it’s time to move on.

 The film begins in Dubai, where agent Ray Koval (Owen) loses some secret documents after he is drugged by another corporate spy, Claire Stenwick (Julia Roberts). The film switches back and forth in time and location to establish the deceptive romance of the lead pair who tries to steal a medical formula to grow hair with a purpose to sell it to the highest bidder. Intricately tied and overly complicated, the film will appeal to the viewer who can survive the nauseating twists and turns that Gilroy and team manage to deliver. This globetrotting thriller-romance is more or less a let-down for viewers expecting something as brilliant as Michael Clayton. Full of clever dialogues drooling in wit, it is certainly an enjoyable ride. Clive Owen is as slick as always while a visibly older Julia Roberts delivers a satisfying performance. Tom Wilkinson shines in his cameo while Paul Giamatti is too loud and gets little support from the script. The film fails to work as a result of a weak plot, where too much emphasis is given on surprising the audience instead of providing a structured narrative. If you have nothing to do on a Saturday night and the prospect of watching two high-profile actors scheme their way through a world full of secrets and agents, go for it. 

Rating: 3/5         

Benicio Del Toro in Che (Soderbergh, 2008).
 
Ernesto ''Che'' Guevara has forever been a cult personality among millions of rebellious unsatisfied youth, disillusioned by the far reaching hands of the bureaucracy. Growing up in a state which glorified communists into mythical figures who fought for a cause, it was inevitable that I would get caught up in the idolatry surrounding the various revolutionary figures of the movement, like Che, Lenin and Castro. As I struggled past puberty, my notions about communism changed and my posters of Che and Marx were replaced by more subdued figures,  but I still can’t help but pay attention whenever one of their names crop up.

Jorge Castaneda comments in the introduction to his biography of Che Guevara, that his death came at the perfect juncture in history. In an age where premature death was sublimated into avenues for cult worship and inspirations, Che, perhaps unnecessarily, was propelled into the social mythos, along with the likes of James Dean, Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison. The release of The Motorcycle Diaries (2004), aroused a renewed interest in the life of Che, which doubled the sales of the original memoirs written by Guevara. The bulk of the screenplay for the new film by Steven Soderbergh is also based on two works written by Che Guevara, Reminiscences of The Cuban Revolutionary War and The Bolivian Diary. Soderbergh had previously commented that this film was the realization of his dream project and the film certainly looks and feels like one.

Just over four hours in length, Che could prove to be challenging to the viewer. Though, the film has been distributed in most parts of the world in two segments, I believe that the real power of the film could be identified only in its full length. The first part of the film, marketed as The Argentine, deals with the Cuban Revolutionary War. The film makes no reference to his significant road trip over South America, visualized in The Motorcycle Diaries (2004), which shaped his ideas and provided him with the impetus to fight for the people. The film does not possess a strict standard narrative and it is more or less the cinematizaton of various events in the Guerrilla life of Che. This technique renders the film into a hypnotic, dreamy contemplation of the man’s life.

The Argentine is arguably the weaker of the two parts, with some annoying intercuts detailing Che’s visit to the UN assembly. While The Argentine is the story of the heroic rebel victory in the Cuban Revolutionary War, The Guerilla, the second part of the film,  is a dark visualization of Che’s attempt to free the people of Bolivia, while grappling with bouts of asthma, deception and a weakening guerrilla army, leading to his capture and death. The film is embellished by a brilliant performance by Benicio Del Toro as the eponymous Che. Soderbergh has left his imprints all over the film, by handling both the direction and cinematography (the latter, under the pseudonym of Peter Andrews). Each frame is perfectly composed, often evoking the wild photography in Apocalypse Now, to involve the viewer in the life of the Guerrilla. Soderbergh does not try to romanticize or condemn the character of Che. He is explicitly shown as a man fighting for an idea, even if it involves the execution of people who break the code of the Guerrilla. By refusing to tie down Che into the pantheon of heroic celluloid figures, Soderbergh has managed to create a idiosyncratic yet brilliant depiction of the life of a man, who is has been gravely misrepresented in the annals of history.

Rating: 4.5/5

PS: The film was amazingly overlooked by the Oscar committee in all the categories, which just goes on to the show the aimless lobbying that is involved in that system.