Recently I finished the novel The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt. (Haven’t seen the movie based on the novel yet but certainly cannot argue with the casting of the two brothers. Joaquin Phoenix and John C. Reilly should be just about perfect in the roles.)
The book reminded me of the film Joel and Ethan Coen made for Netflix. In fact, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs should have been a more coherent and unified narrative. Don’t get me wrong. I have seen and enjoyed of the Coen brothers oeuvre over the years (if not always understanding their choices) but in my (possibly flawed,although I doubt it) opinion, Buster could have benefited from Mr. DeWitt’s discipline and sense of purpose.
Joaquin Phoenix plays Joe, a burly hitman looking after his ailing mother (Judith Roberts) while coping with a severe case of PTSD caused by a triple whammy of childhood abuse, FBI raids and the horrors of military combat. His “job” is rescuing underage girls from sex traffickers. which he dispatches with a ballpeen hammer. (Obviously, this bleak, brutal film is not for squeamish viewers).
Writer/director Lynne Ramsay (We Need to Talk about Kevin) bases her screenplay on a novella by Jonathan Ames (Bored toDeath.) While the book offers glimpses of Joe’s method and madness (well, sorta) Phoenix and Ramsay use only the actor’s eyes and facial expressions (partially hidden by a ferocious beard) and judicious use of millisecond flashbacks. to conjure up the character. (Phoenix has less than a page of dialogue). The actor meets the challenge with another fierce and focused character study. (This is, after all, the same performer who famously pulled out a sink from a wall while filming I Walk the Line. According to showbiz legend, he was not expecting the prop sink to completely give. Rather than call for another take – as I’ve seen in countless DVD extras- the actor masked his surprise and completed the scene in character.)
Ms. Ramsay shows scenes of brutal violence while Rosie and the Originals’ exquisite oldie “Angel Baby” and Engelbert’s syrupy “After the Lovin’ ” play on the soundtrack. This has been interpreted by several reviewers as examples of Ms. Ramsay’s midnight black sense of humor.
In one riveting scene, the carnage is shown as viewed on the building’s security cameras.
Not to start including spoilers in my “reviews ” at this late date but there is a scene towards the end of the film that may make you doubt the truth of Joe’s point of view. (He is not the most reliable narrator, after all.)
Yes, it is bleak. Yes, it can be violent. However, if you can handle it, You Were Never Really Here is worth viewing (it’s now available on DVD) for the force of Phoenix’s performance and the skills and unique touch of the Glasgow-born Ms. Ramsay (surprisingly, this is only her fourth feature-length film since her 1999 debut Ratcatcher. In addition to the films already mentioned, her resume also includes 2002’s highly acclaimed Morvern Callar. Needless to say, this is onewriter/director who chooses projects carefully and on her own terms.
Ballad of Buster Scruggs may work for completist Coenheads but those of us who appreciate the brothers’ films (but hopefully retain most of our critical faculties) may find these six slim stories comprising what has been called “a revisionist western ” somewhat underwhelming.
For this viewer ,who has seen most of Joel and Ethan Coen’s films dating back to 1984’s Blood Simple, it may be their most lightweight effort to date. Yes, even slighter than Hail Caesar.
The opening gambit with Tim Blake Nelson is fitfully entertaining. And there is a bit in one of the other snippets in which James Franco says “First time?” with a rope around his neck that is kinda funny (in a dark sorta way) As for Zoe Kazan, she would seem to be a natural for the Coens’ skewed version of cinematic reality. (The wonder is that it hasn’t been done before.) But that is the extent of this viewer’s tolerance for this latest effort by the Coens (streaming exclusively on Netflix at the time of this posting.)
It’s almost as if these “stories” were sitting in a drawer somewhere. There wasn’t enough there for a complete movie but they were too developed to throw out . Along came Netflix with their reputation for deep pockets and hunger for prestige projects, like Orson Welles’ chaotic, unfinished Other Side of the Wind. (Perhaps that is the future of affluent streaming services like Netflix – to fund projects that would normally never be fully realized.)
Naturally, film critics genuflect at the mention of the Coens’ name (the lone dissenting voice in the rottentomatoes.com website seems to be The New York Post) although the British newspaper The Independent calls the resulting film “superbly crafted but frustrating” and goes to say the Coens feed us “tasty morsels rather than a full meal. ”
I didn’t fully appreciate the Coen’s peculiar touch until I saw another “revisionist western” by another brother act, David and Nathan Zellner, who are allegedly fans of Joel and Ethan’s work.
Damsel is toplined by Robert Pattinson and the always estimable Mia Wasikowska. Mr. Pattinson seems determined to distance himself from the pop cultural furor surrounding his characterization in the Twilight movies (he was surprisingly convincing in Good Time by yet another brother team, Benny and Josh Safdie, but I think he should leave the western genre alone – unless his line readings in this movie were meant to be flat. It’s hard to tell).
The critics and most of the users seemed to like this one,too, but for this viewer, my thoughts on this movie can be summed up by the headline for the review in Newsweek magazine:: NEW WESTERN COMEDY GETS LOST IN THE WOODS
A different spin on the zombie movie genre? I know, I know, you’ve heard that before.
But THE CURED really is a zombie movie with a difference.
I mean, what would happen if zombies(there I go using the “z-word” again, to quote Shaun of the Dead) were turned back into normal (that is to say, non-people-chomping) people again?
That’s the premise of this movie written and directed by an Irishman,David Freyne (in his feature film debut) and set in Dublin.
Anyway, a virus has infected 75% of the population, turning them into z’s (Relax, fans of The Walking Dead, that still leaves 25% to kick up a little homicidal mischief.)
Life isn’t so good for those who have been cured, either.
“This is worse than jail. They’re treating us like lepers,”moans one of the former zombies who have taken the cure.
A former lawyer (Tom Vaughn-Lawlor) and ex-z is shunned by his parents and reduced to a cleaning job. He doesn’t take it well.
Abbie, a single mom with a child (her hubby is chomped to death) is played by Ellen Page (once referred to by one “reviewer” as “that tiny little Canadian”). Senan (Sam Keeley), Abbie’s brother-in-law, is also struggling with his zombified past.
It isn’t long before the resentful Cured are mounting a protest against their conditions, as if Ireland hasn’t had enough Troubles in the past. (One metaphor fits all oppressed minorities.)
The film has a low budget look to it (although there are enough companies listed in the opening credits.)
Ms. Page fully commits to the role (she is listed as one of the producers) and the rest of the cast do their best. The result is, well, a zombie movie with a difference.
She extinguished her cigarette in the remains of the chop suey. “So much for that. To go back: Is there love at this table?”
Probably at every one of these tables, I told her, except perhaps the one at which the Cantonese cashier was sitting by himself. I already knew that I could use a term like “Cantonese” when speaking to Bernice.
“Here. I’ll put it this way. I don’t feel love: now is there love at this table?”
Half-love,” I remarked. Said she: “I’d rather have a baked apple.”
No, the above quote is not from the attempted novelization of some long-lost Tarentino screenplay. It’s actually from a 1932 novel called “Manhattan Love Song” by Cornell Woolrich, regarded by many as the godfather of what came to be known as noir.
Copyright 1932 by Cornell Woolrich First Pegasus Books edition 2006
I can accept that the great Annette Bening did her best to bring Gloria Grahame to life and I understand that Ms. Bening believes she is portraying the legendary film star to the best of her ability – but, sorry, there is only one Gloria Grahame as anyone who has seen the genuine article on screen can attest. (Watching her go toe-to-toe with Bogie in the noir classsic In a Lonely Place, an achievement in itself, should have gained her lasting fame, let alone memorable performances in The Big Heat, The Bad and the Beautiful and many others.)
Gloria Grahame and Humphrey Bogart in 1950’s “In a Lonely Place
However, Ms. Bening does succeed in conjuring up the spirit and vivacity of the late star and perhaps that is enough. I can’t think off the top of my pointed head who could do a better job. (I prefer to think of this film as a homage rather than a straight-ahead biopic.)
The only time I could accept Ms. Bening as an aging Gloria Grahame is in the poignant scene in which the dying actress and her young beau read Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” together (easily one of the highlights of the film.)
The screenplay, by Matthew Greenhalgh (who has done serviceable jobs bringing other real-life protagonists to life – doomed Joy Division lead singer Ian Curtis in Control and a young John Lennon in Nowhere Boy, for example) is based on a memoir by Mr. Turner, who , as a young man, had a romantic relationship with Ms. Grahame in the last years of her life.
It is ironic, perhaps, that the film based on the final years of Ms.Grahame’s life didn’t fare much better at the box office than what happened to her career in the end.
The term “star-crossed” could have been invented just for her.