The Revenant

Hugh Glass: As long as you can still grab a breath, you fight. You breathe. Keep breathing.

In Alejandro G. Iñárritu's latest film, Leonardo DiCaprio plays a highly fictionalized version of frontiersman Hugh Glass as he seeks revenge for being left for dead after a bear attack. On a fur trading expedition, Glass is viciously mauled by a bear, leaving him with a broken leg and numerous flesh wounds. While recovering, Glass witnesses his half-Pawnee son's murder at the hands of Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy), one of the men left behind to care for him. Fitzgerald and Jim Bridger (Will Poulter) leave him for dead in a shallow grave and, after clawing his way out, he sets off on a harrowing journey that pits him against both the wilderness and hostile groups in order the exact vengeance for his son.

This film is intense to say the least and Iñárritu's portrayal of life in the American frontier is unflinching in its brutality. Early on, we see an attack by a Arikara war band that manages to convey both the perilous nature of fur trading and the terrifying reality of guerrilla warfare at the time. The bear attack is disconcertingly realistic and the survival techniques Glass relies on are horrifyingly gruesome. Through it all DiCaprio's performance brings to life both Glass's dire predicament and the true loss he experiences in his family's death. We are frequently reminded of the strength of trees in the face of the wind and the imagery of the forest throughout the film are beautiful reminders of that. The lingering shots and natural lighting help reinforce the overall style and is truly one of the highlights of the film.

But in general, the film is overly sentimental to me. It's easy to sympathize with a man with a murdered wife and son and who appreciates the wisdom of the Pawnee. It's a lot harder the sympathize with the real life Glass, who sought revenge only for himself and the recovery of his rifle. As it is, we see a man settled in his wisdom who gains no new revelations through the experience. He is written as a man modern Americans' want their frontiersmen to be rather than how they really were which is probably closer to Fitzgerald and Bridger. The orchestral parts of the score are haunting but overdone and surprisingly European for the story. The flashbacks of his wife felt emotionally manipulative and could have been accomplished in a much more subtle manner. And all of this lead to the film feeling too long.

The Revenant is unremittingly depressing and gruesome and is not for the faint of heart, but is a wonderful representation of life on the American frontier. It shows the complex relationships amongst the diverse groups of settlers and Native Americans as well as the harsh conditions they faced in the wild. But the heavily revised depiction of Hugh Glass feels like it's pandering to the audience and its heavy-handed sentiment undercuts the strength of DiCaprio's performance. I would recommend this to those interested in the time period or in completing their Oscar scorecard.

Mary & Max

Max: The reason I forgive you is because you are not perfect. You are imperfect. And so am I. All humans are imperfect.

Adam Elliot's Mary & Max is one of my favorite movies although it's difficult to explain why to someone who has not seen it. It's the story of a lonely Australian girl named Mary (voiced by Bethany Whitmore and later Toni Collette) who becomes pen pals with a middle aged New Yorker with Asperger syndrome named Max (Philip Seymour Hoffman). They live in bleak worlds of sepia and black and white. And while Mary is neglected by her parents and picked on at school, Max is misunderstood by everyone but possibly his therapist. But through their letters, they form an unlikely friendship that endures through their happiest and saddest moments and changes their understanding of the world and themselves.

Although this is a claymation movie, it is not meant for children. It's a black comedy that presents characters through their flaws rather than their strengths. But we love them for their flaws because it's their imperfections that make them human. Mary has mud colored eyes with a birthmark on her forehead and she desperately wants to be beautiful. Max's three goals in life are a complete collection of Noblet figurines, a lifetime supply of chocolate and a non-imaginary friend, but but he finds people confusing. Each struggles with their own insecurities and difficulties but each also unconditionally loves the other, warts and all.

The film is not flashy with larger-than-life characters or an outlandish plot. It's simply the stuff of which life is made, but it's made by someone who clearly loves people not in spite of their imperfections, but because of them. At some point in our lives, we have all known a Mary or a Max. Some of us have even been them. But at one point, Max gives Mary a candy heart that reads, "Love yourself first." We can find strength in friendship but in the end, we will still smell like licorice and old books or have mud colored eyes. We need to find not just the value in those around us but also the value in ourselves, even if it means looking at ourselves through someone else's eyes.

Mary & Max is a tribute to everyone who have never quite fit it. It pokes fun at our foibles without malice and shows the worth each person no matter how eccentric. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Chef

Carl Casper: I may bot do everything great in my life, but I'm good at this. I manage to touch people's lives with what I do and I want to share this with you.

Chef is a movie that continually baffles me. I had it recommended to me by several diverse sources before I finally watched it and over a year later I still hear people talking about it or listening to the admittedly great soundtrack. But I have have a difficult time understanding its popularity. It's a simple story. After an accidental Twitter war with a food critic (Oliver Platt) who gave him a bad review, chef Carl Casper (Jon Favreau) quits his job to start a food truck with his sous chef (John Leguizamo) and his son (Emjay Anthony). The cast is impressive. The photography is beautiful. The soundtrack is festive.

Then what's the problem? Well, once they're on the road, the conflict stops. There's no more arguments with the food critics, no familial strife over custody or shoddy parenting, no financial woes with the business, nothing. Everything's roses from then on out. So how is a movie with half a plot so popular across so many different groups of people? There's something about it that speaks to us as people. We see characters we like with all of the flaws and foibles we see in ourselves. We see men being men, people living their dreams, a father teaching his son and a son helping his father. We see people struggle with and overcome the social media with which our lives are so entangled. And in the war over our food, we see our simple, local cuisine triumph over the overpriced, inaccessible food of the wealthy.

This is a movie that will want to make you want to celebrate the simple joys of life, family and food while eating the best damn grilled cheese sandwich of your life. Just be prepared that the only twist in this movie is when it suddenly ends.

The Great Gatsby

Daisy: You always look so cool. The man in the cool, beautiful shirts.

From every high school in America to the big screen, The Great Gatsby is the story of everyman Nick who gets wrapped up in the reckless, consequence-free lifestyle of his wealthy cousin Daisy and her former lover, the mysterious Gatsby. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t end well. Never one of my favorite books, I went to see it because it seemed like the perfect movie for Baz Luhrmann, kind of like Moulin Rouge but with better plot construction. I even sprung for 3D. Unfortunately, it didn’t really seem like a step forward for him.

One of the first things they tell you in film school is never to use narration. Then, every student rattles off all the films that use narration well as an excuse for why they should be able to use it. Well, the best argument a teacher could use against it is this movie. Tobey Maguire’s narration is over everything. Everything. Why let the audience contemplate what the characters are thinking when you can have Maguire read huge chunks of the book that explain exactly what’s happening? Pro tip, I don’t need him to tell me that it seemed like Gatsby was reaching for something when I can see DiCaprio physically reaching toward the green light. I got it. It’s not rocket science. If about fifty percent of the narration had been cut, the emotion throughout would have been a lot stronger.

The other problem is that when I go to see a Luhrmann film, I want to see something visually stunning. Don’t get me wrong, everything looks beautiful and there are a few particularly stunning shots, but it’s nothing like his earlier films. He used to take risks and push the limits of what was acceptable. Romeo + Juliet is the most 90s looking movie you’ll see because of that. But while this movie is pretty, it isn’t daring. Even the Jay-Z produced soundtrack has issues. It’s at its best the few times it blends the jazz that challenged conventions in the 20s and the hip-hop that challenges conventions today. But for the most part, the soundtrack feels like it was assembled at random from a playlist of someone’s favorite songs with very little to tie them together.

With the powerful cast and beautiful sets, this movie should have been spectacular but Luhrmann’s attachment to the book came back to bite him in the end. Definitely a pass.

Once Upon A Time In The West

Jill: What's he waiting for out there? What's he doing?
Cheyenne: He's whittling on a piece of wood. I got a feeling that when he stops whittling, something's gonna happen.

I'm not really big on westerns but there are a few that I love and this one tops the chart. Sergio Leone has a penchant for long, epic westerns that for all their tough characters and desert landscapes play like a love poem to the American West. His characters are memorable, exchanging quips with one hand on a gun, with a moral ambiguity that can make it had to tell the heroes from the villains and Once Upon a Time in the West is no different. The story follows Jill McBain a woman who was widowed just before she arrived to join her new husband on his farm. With her husband and his children murdered and thugs trying to intimidate her off her supposedly worthless land, she turns to loveable scumbag Cheyenne and Harmonica, a mysterious gunman searching for a gang leader named Frank.

For it's almost three hour run time, there's very little dialogue. Leone chooses instead to focus on the characters' expressions which gives the whole film a very cool feel. Harmonica is a man of few words but when he speaks, people listen. He's the stoic hero, a man with a mission, and nothing, not even a beautiful, willing woman, will distract him. When Charles Bronson is onscreen, he draws the audience's attention with his silence and the eerie harmonica music he plays.

MILD SPOILERS AHEAD

It's a film that glorifies the lawlessness of the old West and the Old Testament judgement that goes with it. No one's a saint. They've made tough choices to survive but while some can overcome their pasts to a better, more hopeful future, others have defined themselves too much by it and are left with nothing in the end. And at the same time, it shows the inevitable end of that lifestyle. The coming railroad will bring civilization with it and people like Harmonica will no longer have a place in the world. Frank, for all his villainy, has a better understanding of the coming changes. The conniving industrialist will replace the hardened gunman. A man's sense of honor and justice will be replaced by the comfort of the law. It's a bittersweet ending but Jill represents the hope that the change brings.

Leone's sweeping film pays tribute the short lived but most enduring period in American history. It's one of the best westerns I've ever seen and I highly recommend it to everyone.

American Psycho

Courtney Rawlinson: Listen Patrick, can we talk?
Patrick Bateman: You look... marvelous. There's nothing to say.

SPOILERS AHEAD
In this condemnation of 80s materialism, Patrick Bateman is a wealthy, upper class investment banker who is obsessed with appearance. His world revolves around looking better, wearing better clothes, having better business cards, and getting better dinner reservations than all his equally superficial social peers. Of course, his killer instincts become doubly apparent at night when his kills homeless men, prostitutes, and even the occasional business associate. But after an all out killing spree causes him to confess his crimes to his lawyer, Bateman discovers all traces of the murders have disappeared, proving that his peers would rather turn a blind eye to his true nature than be forced to examine their own lifestyles.

What makes this film so much better than an average serial killer film is the dark, understated sense of humor that accents it. Christan Bale's performance as Patrick Bateman is amazing at conveying his narcissism and complete lack of empathy. His explanations about his favorite musicians before his murders are hilarious as well as an eerie juxtaposition to the following carnage. And the business card scene with everyone exchanging slight variations on the same design is truly an amazing show of the trivialities that are so important in Bateman's world. If you can take the sex and violence, it's a highly entertaining film and a nice commentary on the extremes of materialism.

Where the Wild Things Are

Judith: Happiness isn't always the best way to be happy.

This wasn't a book I really read as a child and normally a film adaptation of a 300 word picture book wouldn't be something I'd pay attention to (considering the outcome of numerous Seuss adaptations), but after seeing the trailer for this live-action Spike Jonze's film, I knew it would be different. One thing that was obvious after seeing it was that this isn't a kids' film (unfortunately for the adorable little boy dressed as Max that we met outside the theater) and that may have cost it theatrical success, but for adults, it's an interesting look at what it means to be a child and what it means to grow up.

Max, a rambunctious, imaginative little boy, feels ignored and helpless. His sister is too busy with her friends to pay any attention to him and his mother is preoccupied with work and her new boyfriend. After throwing a tantrum, Max runs away from home, sailing across the sea to the land where the wild things are. He becomes their king and immediately gets all the friends and attention he wants. But when real problems start to interrupt his eternal playtime, Max begins to see that the world is more complicated than he thought.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Where the Wild Things Are is a beautifully shot film with wonderful sets and landscapes. The acting, especially by the star Max Records, brings the whole thing to life with the actors playing the wild things (James Gandolfini, Paul Dano, Catherine O'Hara, Forest Whitaker, Chris Cooper, and Lauren Ambrose) doing a great job of emulating the childish behavior that script draws upon. And the childishness isn't always the idealized, joyful innocence we prefer to remember but also the stubbornness, pettiness, and selfishness. Max, angry at his mother, runs away from home and finds the wild things who are trying to calm down Carol, who's having his own tantrum and destroying their houses. And even though Max and Carol become friends, Carol's initial tantrum looms over the rest of the story as a threat to any sort of peace and happiness Max tries to establish. As king, Max concerns himself with the superficial needs of his subjects, but he is unable to take care of their emotional needs. Many of them are unsure of their place in the group, in constant need of love and reassurance, feeling that the others are treating them unfairly or that they are being replace by the ones they love most. All of them are children with none of the perspective that time brings. They're all so concerned with being hurt that they are heedless of who they hurt. Max, now in the role of a parent, is forced to look beyond himself and finally realizes how his own behavior has affected his mother. And so, he returns home to find his worried mother waiting for him with a bowl of soup.

But as viewers, this glimpse into the bittersweet memories of our childhood reminds us not only of the mentality children are struggling with but also shows us the immaturity of our own selfishness. Even when we're grown it can be difficult to see beyond ourselves and recognize that one friend doesn't preclude the other and just because we want something now doesn't mean we are owed it. This is certainly not a film for children but rather a film about children. A reminder of where we have been and where we are going.