Movie Loner

Director Michael Cimino is responsible for one of the most acclaimed movies of the 1970’s, The Deer Hunter. He followed that with one of Hollywood’s most notorious disasters, Heaven’s Gate. Toast of the town to laughing stock in two years. Showbiz can be a fickle beast. Cimino would return five years later with the bloody, ultra-violent, fist-to-the-face crime drama, Year of the Dragon. Not for the squeamish, this movie is badass.

Mickey Rourke plays Stanley White, grizzled Vietnam vet and decorated cop, who’s put in charge of Chinatown. Joey Tai (Jone Lone) unleashes a wave of violence to become the new Chinese mafia kingpin in New York City. White warns his bosses, “the gutters will run red with blood,” but they don’t agree. When bodies start piling up, White declares war on Joey Tai. The rollercoaster story takes us from seedy Chinatown streets, to the lush mountains of Thailand.

The heart of this movie is Stan White. A bitter vet, fed up with status-quo, he is the ideal antihero. He has no friends, ignores his wife, and has an affair with a beautiful young reporter (Ariane). Mickey Rourke nails this role. Has there been a more under-appreciated actor than Rourke? This guy has been in Diner, The Pope of Greenwich Village, Angel Heart, and Barfly. That’s a damn good resume.

Written by Oliver Stone, Year of the Dragon pulls no punches. Rape, gunshots to the face, and decapitation are just some of the acts perpetrated. I’ve seen some violent films and this is near the top of the list. Violence, however, makes it compelling. The drug trade is a nasty business; there are no winners. The pushers live a kill-or-be-killed existence. The cops, faced with bureaucratic obstacles, are forced to bend the rules. There are few epic cop movies, but Year of the Dragon is one of the best.

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Cops versus drug dealers movies are a dime a dozen, but The Young Americans struck a nerve with me. Maybe it was the London setting, or the beautiful Thandie Newton, or the haunting song “Play Dead” by Bjork. To be truthful, I don’t know why this movie appeals to me, but I’ll watch it every time I stumble across it.

London is being overrun by a ruthless drug kingpin. DEA agent John Harris, played by Harvey Keitel, is brought aboard as an adviser. The drug trade is new to London so Harris’ expertise in this area is needed, if not welcome. The man responsible for this recent crime wave is Carl Frazer (Viggo Mortensen), another American who has brought his game across the pond.

At the center of the story is Chris O’Neill, a young bartender recruited by Frazer to join his gang of youths. Chris can’t help but be seduced by Frazer’s world. Harris knows Chris is a good kid, so he attempts to use him to infiltrate Frazer’s crime network. Chris wants to do the right thing, but his fear of Frazer is overwhelming.

Viggo Mortensen stands out as Frazer, a charming sociopath bent on destroying as many lives as possible. Keitel is solid as always, playing a tough cop who doubles as a father-figure for Chris. Director Danny Cannon paints a dark, moody canvas that effectively captures the bourgeoning London underworld. The Young Americans is far from The Godfather but if you’re looking for a good crime drama, you could do a lot worse.

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Guilt is a funny thing. It affects each of us differently. Some let it eat away at them until it kills them. Others choose to bury it and not deal with the consequences. What if you were forced to deal with guilt? This is the question director Michael Haneke raises in the quietly brilliant Cache.

Georges and Anne Laurent (Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche) are a successful married couple. They live in a stylish house and have a son named Pierrot. One day a videotape appears on their doorstep. They watch the video together; it’s a static shot of their house taken from across the street. Someone is watching them. The next day another tape arrives with a crude child-like drawing attached. A post card with another drawing greets Georges at work. At home, Anne starts getting strange phone calls. Fear quickly envelopes the Laurent family.

The tapes and drawings keep coming. The police offer no assistance. Georges begins to suspect someone from his past. Nightmares reveal a bloody boy and a vague memory from Georges childhood. He begins to investigate his suspicions but refuses to tell Anne. A deeper rift threatens their already icy relationship. Guilt consumes Georges as he comes face-to-face with the person he thinks is responsible for terrorizing his family.

Cache means “hidden.” Perfect because a lot is hidden in this film. Haneke crafts an uneasy story filled with ambiguity. He uses no music and employs long shots and long takes, eschewing manipulation of any sort. He traps us in the frame and forces us to look; not just at the seen, but more importantly, the unseen. Cache requires you to observe carefully and draw your own conclusions. If you love a challenge at the movies, this is a must see.

The trailer for Cache:

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I love a great title. For me, it can make or break a movie. A title should provoke a response, be it visceral or intellectual. An effective title encapsulates the movie’s plot and themes. It tells the audience exactly what they’re in for. Here are a few titles that really work:

Die Hard – Reaches out and punches you in the face.

Sex, Lies, and Videotape – Summarizes precisely what you’re about to see.

The Godfather – Safe to say it isn’t about a school teacher.

Here are my top Titles of 2007.

7) Sicko – Perfect for Michael Moore’s condemnation of America’s health care system.

6) Grindhouse – You know what you’re getting here and it ain’t no G rated Disney flick.

5) Zodiac – Say is out loud. It just sounds eerie.

4) The Savages – Not just a family name, also a state of mind.

3) Hot Fuzz – The boys who brought you Shaun of the Dead pick another winner.

2) The King of Kong - Documentary about ‘Donkey Kong’ record holder. Clever.

1) There Will Be Blood – Blood equals oil. Blood equals blood. Both will be shed.

Did I miss any? Let me know.

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One of the best films of the 1980’s, At Close Range, features two of America’s finest actors going head-to-head. Christopher Walken and Sean Penn provide a clinic on how to give memorable and authentic performances. The Academy Awards routinely ignores worthy acting, but they should be flogged for omitting both Walken and Penn in 1986. Forgive me for venting. This movie is the shit.

Penn plays Brad Jr., a bored teen living in a rural Pennsylvania town. One day his absentee father Brad Sr. (Walken) shows up, awakening Brad Jr.’s desire for a male influence in his life. Brad Jr. and his brother Tommy (Chris Penn) begin hanging with Brad Sr. and his crew of miscreants. Seduced by a life of crime and seeking love and admiration from his father, Brad Jr. recruits his friends into joining Brad Sr.’s gang.

After popping his criminal cherry, Brad Jr. gets bold and sets up a job on his own. Without Brad Sr.’s guidance, the heist goes awry. Brad and his buddies end up in jail which brings unwanted attention to Brad Sr. and his associates. Fearing one of the kids might snitch, Brad Sr. decides to silence voices before they incriminate him. Brad Jr. discovers his father’s duplicity and plans to escape.

Brad Jr.’s naive hope for acceptance collides with Brad Sr.’s vicious lack of morality. Unwilling to follow his father’s path, Brad Jr. learns a lesson Brad Sr. never taught him: to be his own man. At Close Range succeeds where most movies fail; it creates real characters with real conflict. Director James Foley (Glengarry Glen Ross) lets his actors tell the story without distraction. He simply frames Penn and Walken and they do the rest. Great movie with an outstanding soundtrack featuring one of Madonna’s best songs, “Live to Tell.”

A scene from At Close Range:

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Sexy and mysterious. Two words that best describe French director Francois Ozon’s neo-noir film Swimming Pool. I recommend this with a warning: pay close attention and question everything. Ozon revels playing mind games with his audience. The plot is a bit deliberate but the payoff is worth it.

Wildly successful British mystery writer Sarah Morton (Charlotte Rampling) needs a vacation. Fearing burnout, her editor John (Charles Dance) offers her his villa in the South of France. Sarah agrees, hoping the relaxation will inspire her to start another novel.

Once in France, the stodgy, set-in-her-ways Sarah attempts to cut loose. She eats junk food and wears a funny hat. Quite the party animal. She also begins writing another book. Things are going swimmingly (bad pun intended) for Sarah. However, her solitude quickly erodes after the unexpected arrival of John’s teenage daughter, Julie. Sultry and brash, young Julie and old Sarah clash immediately.

Julie wanders the house topless, lounges by the pool, and engages in sexual trysts with the locals. Needless to say, her behavior perturbs Sarah. Eventually, Julie’s freewheeling ways rub off on Sarah. Fascinated by her youthful exuberance, Sarah begins to adopt Julie’s persona; sexually awakened, her novel takes a new direction.

Swimming Pool is a study of the writer’s process. Ozon enters Sarah’s mind and asks us to make a choice. Is the world we’re being presented real or imagined? Is Sarah living the story she’s creating, or simply documenting events in her life? Ozon’s twists and turns keep an otherwise ordinary plot interesting. Cheers to Ludivine Sagnier, who plays Julie with seductive gusto.

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I dig this movie for superficial reasons. I love Gong Li. She’s one of the most beautiful women in the world. Okay, I’ll stop now. Truth be told, I like Chinese Box for several reasons. In addition to Gong Li, it also stars Jeremy Irons who is one of the few legit actors working. Unfortunately, this is the last good film he’s done. Sorry, Eragon and Kingdom of Heaven don’t make the cut.

Irons plays John, an English photojournalist based in Hong Kong at the time of England’s transfer back to China. John pines for the good ol’ days but realizes those days are numbered. He fears Hong Kong will never be the same. He also pines for Vivian (Gong Li), a former prostitute turned bartender, whom he’s known for years. Vivian loves Chang, a wealthy businessman, who stays with her even though he never intends to marry her.

John falls gravely ill and decides to spend his last days documenting Hong Kong before the turnover. He meets an odd young woman (Maggie Cheung) who joins him in making a video diary of the city. This subplot distracts from the central storyline, John and Vivian’s relationship. Will he admit his feelings? Will she reciprocate?

Director Wayne Wang shoots Hong Kong with a poetic lens. Chinese Box is a love story, but not between a man and a woman. It is a love story between a man and a city. John’s physical death is not nearly as tragic as is the death of an era, and the death of memories.

I recommend this film to anyone unfamiliar with Gong Li. Not only is she gorgeous, but she’s also quite an engaging actress. She’s famous for being in director Yimou Zhang’s Chinese period films during the 1990’s, but she’s beginning to venture into more mainstream fare, including 2006’s Miami Vice.

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