Showing posts with label Sacha Baron Cohen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sacha Baron Cohen. Show all posts

Friday, December 28, 2012

Les Miserables is exactly the experience you get

If you're not on board from the first song that opens the film, you're sure to drown in the film's over indulgence.

King's Speech director Tom Hooper was certainly the ideal person to helm this adaptation set in 18th century France. He managed to capture some beautiful shots--we see Hugh Jackman against a plain wall with a cross on it, hinting at his religious struggles earlier in the film; Russell Crowe in blue uniform against a nicely juxtaposed red brick wall; and Aaron Tveit's character waving a flag over the city's barricade, it's all a set but the beauty of it is not lost on us.

We also get some nice performances from this A-list cast. Anne Hathaway's interpretation of perhaps the play's most famous tune "I dreamed a dream" was emotional. Amanda Seyfried's voice was tender and delicate, perfectly matching her character's persona. Isabelle Allen, playing Seyfried's younger character was exactly what you would hope for, also tender and evoking the right amount of pity. And Eddie Redmayne (My Week with Marilyn), is sure to breakthrough for his performance as a love struck rebel.

"So, Cristina, what's wrong with the movie?" Glad you asked.

Les Miserables fails at a film adaptation: it's too long and in translating it into a film narrative it became less narrative and more of a pre-recorded live Broadway musical. In attempting to capture the songs as direct sound (recorded at the time of filming) the film became so self-indulged in the performances it sacrificed basic technicalities. During long takes the characters moved in and out of focus and camera jerks were noticeable during long tracking sequences. It almost defeated the purpose of preserving or trying to capture these moments. In one scene, Jackman sings a soliloquy in a church--it's his repent for past sins, he wants to start over--but the close-ups, in trying to capture every tear, every bead of sweat, every spit producing vocal, are beyond wearing. Most exhausting of all was Russell Crowe's monotonous baritone voice.

Yeah, you probably guessed it, I don't care for musicals, but I can admire one when it's done right. Cabaret managed to balance song from story, even Sweeney Todd knew when to scale it back. What's wrong with Miserables is its beautiful moments, and there certainly were plenty--I mean the movie was like three frickin' hours long--were lost in the grand spectacle of it all. Almost every scene, every moment, every line of dialogue was milked for a tune. Screenwriter William Nicholson is to blame here. There was a lot that could have been cut out and more that could have been better translated for film, say a couple of normal conversations here or there.

But, as I said, there were some real moments captured here. There's a scene where Jackman's character is singing in a court yard and his vocals are accompanied by a church choir we know to be in the adjacent building--quite beautiful. Although I wasn't completely invested in the story, Jackman was at least believable. And who could hate Hathaway for that performance? Perhaps this is the performance that will earn her a little golden statue.

And I'm not quite sure if it's a compliment to say Sacha Baron Cohen's (The Dictator) scenes were the best part of the movie, but they were. His and Helena Bonham's Carter rendition of "Master of the House" added some much appreciated comic relief and a much needed montage to break up some of the tension from long close-ups throughout.

If you're on board from the get-go, you'll enjoy the proceeding three hours. There's much to be admired here, but ultimately stunning visuals and memorable tunes get lost in the over achievement of replicating a faithful adaptation of this much-loved Broadway hit.

Rating: C

Friday, December 16, 2011

'Hugo' is a dream for cinephiles

From the best-selling book by Brian Selznick, you would expect someone like Chris Columbus, Robert Zemeckis, or even Steven Spielberg to helm this film, based on the popular children's novel The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Instead, you have veteran director Martin Scorcese, known for his more mature credit of work like Goodfellas, Taxi Driver and the film that finally won him an Oscar 2006's The Departed. It sounds like an odd match and it is for the first hour or so, but during the second half it becomes obvious no one could have treated the subject matter of this film with as much care and finesse as Scorcese.

The story revolves around Hugo (Asa Butterfield), an orphan living in a Paris train station, whose job is to wind the clocks. He lives alone, hidden within the walls of the station that is until he meets the sesquipedalist Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz, Kickass) after being caught by the station toy-maker and Isabelle's godfather Georges (Ben Kingsley, Shutter Island) for stealing toy parts. Hugo's father (played by Jude Law) was a clock smith and after his death Hugo went to work for his uncle, managing the station clocks. He took only one object with him--an automaton, a mechanical man, his father was working on, up until his death, but couldn't quite fix. Hugo believes fixing the automaton will send him a message from his father and Isabelle is more than jocund to help, because she claims it is an adventure, like the books she indulges in. But not everybody is so willing to help. The station inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen, Borat) is just waiting to catch Hugo and send him off to an orphanage, where he believes he belongs and Georges holds on to the secret of the automaton, but refuses to divulge anything to the boy who has been stealing from him.

It sounds like a children's tale and it is for the most part, but the foremost question is why Scorcese would want to tackle such a genre this late in his career? The answer is simple. This film is a film maker's dream and for a cinephile like Scorcese it's no wonder he chose such an endeavor. Simply put, it's an ode to the birth of cinema, a well crafted homage to the early, black and white era of silent film and filmmakers. Scorcese recreates, shot for shot, some of the earliest scenes from films by Melies and the Lumiere brothers. He eloquently retells their story with such a creative and innovative twist, the film oozes with his sentimental tribute to such landmark directors. The entire film feels like a personal payment of gratitude to the greats before him.

As a children's film, it doesn't quite work. It's hard to imagine young kids knowing the context of what's happening or what a silent picture is. However, I'm sure the adults taking their kids will both appreciate and respect the level of achievement behind this tale. It's more of a film about film, told through the eyes of a child. Children nonetheless will find this film just as enjoyable. Butterfield gives a very vulnerable and tender performance as the orphan who wants to fix his father's machine. In a head-scratching role, Cohen also gives a rather vulnerable performance, considering his previous films, as the station inspector and produces a few laughs. But the true star of the film are the films themselves. Just like the films of Melies, his purpose was to capture dreams onto film and Scorcese manages to achieve nothing less than that.

In the film, Hugo states, "If you lose your purpose...it's like you're broken." Scorcese's purpose is clear, to pay a tribute to the films that inspired him when he was a child. And like those films, Hugo should be an inspiration for film lovers of all ages.

Rating: A-