TOP 5 FILMS OF 2014 (SO FAR)

Boyhood is an ingenious celebration of life. The concept is innovative (shooting over a period of twelve years, to capture the genuine growth of the actors), and the close portrayal of the family truly authentic. The script felt real, almost borderline documentary, and it was impossible not to identify with the characters as well as the events in their lives.

In fact, I’m not the best physiognomist when it comes to recognizing actors, and I found myself wondering where I had previously seen Mason (Ella Coltrane) for example. It so happened that I had never seen him in a movie, but he reminded me of a friend who like Mason, goes to art school. There is no doubt here that Linklater’s challenging casting plans were a great success! 

The truth is, Mason’s character isn’t the one that stood out for me the most, but the overall chemistry of the family and the talented performances: Patricia Arquette plays the mother, Ethan Hawk plays the free-spirited father, and Lorelei Linklater is the daughter. The movie should really be called Motherhood. 

Lastly, the film is particularly effective because it establishes an honest portrayal of life -- without omitting the negative impact it may have on us, thus resulting in a faithful ode to life.

Chef, Jon Favreau

It is so refreshing to list an independent comedy as one of my favorite movies of the year. In 2013, we had nothing but sequels: Grown Ups 2 (dreadful), Despicable Me 2 (not bad, although the first one was better), Anchorman 2 (disgraceful)…

In Chef, Jon Favreau (writer, director and main actor of Chef) skilfully adapts chef Roy Choi’s story (the latter oversaw all of the menus and food prepared for the film – could the food look any more delicious?). The result was a delightful modern coming of age road movie about a chef who is desperately trying to fulfill his passion: cooking for others, without having to worry about the pressure of working from someone else’s menu. He drives a food truck cross-country (with his son and sous-chef), and becomes famous due to his excellent cooking skills as well as social networking (with the help of his son, who introduces him to the world of Twitter and Facebook). 

Having worked in the service industry for years, one can’t help but chuckle in recognition at the realistic crude language in the kitchens and, the playful yet serious cooking teamwork. Most importantly, Favreau’s exceptional performance successfully portrays the life of  a chef who tries his absolute hardest to please his customers, as well as his family life while remaining fully dedicated to his work. For people who don’t appreciate food as much as I do, the film is worth watching for Robert Downey Jr’s hilarious appearance. He plays Favreau’s wife’s wacky ex-boyfriend, who donates an old food truck to Favreau. And let us not forget the parade of friendly faces: Dustin Hoffman, Scarlet Johansson, John Leguizamo, Sofia Vergara… 

Chef is a true gem with a bittersweet Little Miss Sunshine (2006, Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris) touch – but let’s replace the KFC bucket with gourmet appetizing images of El Jefe’s rediscovered love for Cuban Cuisine – the thought of it makes my mouth water again!

Birdman, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu

It would be near impossible for me not to include Birdman for its cinematic jazziness as well as it’s phenomenal script. The film is shot in one take, simulated by time lapse and clever editing technique, giving a whole new dimension to single location films. I have never seen anything like it (Russian Ark perhaps, in a Broadway theatre rather than the epic Russian State Hermitage Museum). 

The plot is flawless: Hollywood actor (Michael Keaton’s comeback!), known for his superhero role “Birdman,” attempts to prove to the critics and fans that he can also perform on stage, by performing a play on Broadway. His family gives him grief, as well as the press. Birdman  is a true actor’s midlife crisis, struggling for pride and post-peak career recognition. Keaton is surrounded by outstanding cast: Zach Galifianakis, Naomi Watts, Emma Stone, Edward Norton, and many more. 

The film (a drama at first sight) becomes a dark-humoured clever satire where even the stars make fun of themselves. The Broadway theatre is a No Exit playground, where all performances excels themselves: Naomi Watts, “Why don’t I have any self respect!?” Andrea Riseborough, “You’re an actress hunny.” The end was particularly striking, as it was divided into two major components: the death of Keaton on stage as well as the death of Birdman at the hospital. Inarritu could of ended on a tragic note, by having Keaton die on stage, but this would have been cliché of a Greek tragedy. Although Keaton was at the peak of his performance on stage, Inarritu doesn’t let him go that easily. Instead, he uses an extra layer of poetry (which had already been resonating throughout the film) in his grand finale at the hospital (I won’t spoil the end for those of you who haven’t seen it yet).

Nightcrawler, Dan Gilroy

A groundbreaking performance by Jake Gyllenhaal, creepy as ever, and disturbing to say the least. The film progresses through the power of suspense keeping us going and leading us to play devil’s advocate. This is all due to Gyllenhaal’s character but also the finely written script: a tormented genius, who quotes marketing strategies day and night, trying his hardest to break into the TV news industry. The term “nightcrawler” is a great find, unsettling as ever. 

The film also convincingly portrays the corrupt backstage world of TV Production, always looking for the next alarming crude images to provoke and shock a hungry audience. Nightcrawler is difficult to praise without sounding a tad bit psychotic, but worth every second for it’s real-time car chases, it’s everlasting gradual suspense, and a heavy critic of the TV industry. The film is timeless, and looks like it could have been shot ten years ago due to the grain on the obscure pictures.

Gone Girl, David Fincher

Gone Girl has by far been one of the films I discussed the most with friends as well as Fincher fans due to the spot-on job of cast as well as the incredible twists of the plot. Even now, I still remain haunted by Rosamund Pike and Ben Affleck’s performances. Gone Girls is unique as it is really two films in one. Fincher’s characters have no set boundaries. We are drawn to them in such a way that the movie deviates slightly from a Film Noir to a psychological drama: it’s no longer cinematographically driven but character driven. Fincher provokes his audience by giving an extensive emphasis on the twist of the plot rather than taking us through a traditional linear narrative. I still hold my breath as I reminisce certain parts of the film. When the film ended, there were no sudden moves or shouts to be heard in the theatre; only gasps and sighs of disbelief. We remained awe stricken, haunted with intrigue and fascination – a similar emotion to what I felt during Nightcrawler.

My overall impression of my top five so far is a positive one. 2014 has proven to be a year where comedies, dramas and crime movies can all be received successfully together. I could have easily continued the list which is something that I would have been far from doing in 2013 (The Wolf of Wall Street, Captain Phillips, 12 Years a Slave, Dallas Buyers Club, Gravity were all “big names” but all too commercial to earn my outermost respect. I found potential in Her, which sadly didn’t do as well).

The 2014 films mostly deal with outstanding performances, and in depth character retrospectives. There is an large emphasis on male protagonists: Michael Keaton in Birdman, Jake Gyllenhal in Nightcrawler, Ben Affleck in Gone Girl, John Favreau in Chef, Ella Coltrane in Boyhood. However all remain very different. This could indeed lead to a misogynistic reflection on the part of modern male directors. However, let us not forget the role Patricia Arquette played in Boyhood: a crucial role which founded the others, and the iconic femme fatale, Rosamund Pike in Gone Girl. I am curious to see who will win the Oscars for Best Actor Award, and I have no doubt that it will be one of the actors listed above. The films I chose, also deal mostly with functional and dysfunctional family portraits, which I found touching in a “coming of age” form as well as realistic modern portrayal of life and the impact of the bad economy. Last year, the films were more provocative like American Hustle, The Wolf of Wall Street, or concerned about events in the past Captain Phillips, 12 Years a Slave, Dallas Buyers Club or fiction, Her and Gravity… 

It’s relieving to have finally come to our senses and deal with the day to day issues, critic and satire of the modern world.

DAVID FINCHER: LA VIE EN NOIR

Gone Girl is without a doubt an innovative modern Film Noir with a unique David Fincher touch.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had been to a mainstream movie theatre, where the carpeting is coated with sticky soda and the odor of stale popcorn permeates the air. The line for the tickets was never-ending. Gone Girl was sold out twice, I went to the 10:30 pm screening instead of the one I was aiming for at 8:30 pm. I (wisely) chose to return half an hour before the show, hoping to find a seat. Three escalators and several corridors later I arrived at the “balcony” area of Theatre number four. I stood in a line once more. People grew impatient. I noticed someone trying to get his friends to cut in line with him, but there was zero tolerance among the angry mob. A fight almost broke out, “Your friends should wait at the back like everyone else,” a tall college guy said, holding his large coke in one hand and girlfriend in the other, to which the other guys replied, “You can go ahead of me if you don’t want them to cut in front of you.” The discussion went on endlessly for a few minutes, until the line started moving, and everyone headed towards the theatre in a rapid military fashion. There were at least one hundred of us up there (I looked down and saw twice as many seats in the main theatre space). Coats, hats, and scarves were placed to save seats for those yet to come. I settled for one seat left, settled between two couples.  The couple on my left had a great big bucket of popcorn, the young man would plunge his mouth into the bucket instead of reaching in with his hand. This was a lot more entertaining to watch than the endless previews for TV shows, Iphone Apps, M&Ms… We were blessed with three movie trailers, and then Gone Girl with no introduction, suddenly began just after a faint fade out.

The room grew silent instantly. Not a peep was heard, even from the popcorn munchers. David Fincher was casting his dark spell. I remember how I felt after watching Fight Club, and Se7en for the first time. I was a teenager then, and never felt quite the same again after. His mystery twists remained with me forever. Little did I know that Gone Girl would be his lengthiest and darkest twist yet.

Paul Schrader defines Film Noir as “subtle qualities of tone and mood” in his Notes on Film Noir. For this, Schrader reminds us of Film Noir as a means of representing darkness through highly stylized visual esthetics. This is flagrant in Gone Girl through the multiple usages of crane shots, or slow travelling camera-movements. The shaky handheld filmic look is never once used. Schrader writes, “we move cinematographically,” as opposed to with the characters. Indeed, the film progresses with a constant fluid rhythm, also due to the atmospheric music byTrent Reznor (loyal Fincher composer for Se7en, The Social Network, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) and Atticus Ross (also composed The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The Social Network) as opposed to a spoken soundtrack. There is a muted color palate, no excessive bright colors are to be seen. This is emblematic in the first kissing scene, when Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) kisses his wife to be in the alleyway. They are surrounded by floating powdered sugar. Amy’s (Rosamund Pike) face becomes pale from the sugar, and Nick prints two fingers on her lips, before kissing them. At first sight, the powdered sugar creates a poetic and enchanting vision. However, there is a serious tone behind everything in Film Noir. The paleness of the powered sugar brings out a corpse-like expression. In fact, the tone is similar to her corpse which we see floating in the water. Once more, an allusion to Film Noir and the Freudian fascination for water. 

Film Noir was highly used in the 1940s and 50s to portray a world of “dark, slick, city streets crime and corruption.” Most of these actions took place at night. David Fincher redefines the noir tone by spreading it across the whole film, day and night. He respects Schrader’s noir hero, who “survives by the day,” by skillfully playing with the “complex chronological order.” The film indicates precise date and time from the very beginning. We are informed right away of Amy and Nick’s fifth wedding anniversary. Titles throughout the film divide and explain the exact chronology of past, present and future.

Fincher provokes his audience by giving an extensive emphasis on the twist of the plot rather than taking us through a traditional linear narrative. Gone Girls is really two films in one. Fincher masters his audience by forcing us to explore two sides of the story through his character’s point of views. I was never convinced by Ben Affleck’s performance, although I did appreciate the effort he put into Argo. I felt the same with the casting choice of Neil Patrick Harris, for the stereotypes associated with his usual comical roles in How I Met Your Mother, and Harold and Kumar go to White Castle. Fincher knew better. He knew Ben Affleck’s character couldn’t make the “murderer” cut, and indeed he was perfect for the role of the generic, constant, yet vulnerable hero. His character mentions it himself when being interviewed by the media, “I am not a murderer, but I am far from being perfect.” The choice of Neil Patrick Harris turns out to be more than effective as we can’t help but feel a hint of pity for his character. In a way, his character is Barney Stinson (from How I met your Mother) with a twist, as if he were hopelessly in love and punished for being so – nothing close to being a laughing matter. Rosamund Pike is convincing as ever, with or without makeup, psychopath or lucid.  

David Fincher strikes again, with a spot-on job of cast. His characters have no set boundaries. We are drawn to the characters in such a way that the movie deviates slightly from the noir theory to a psychological drama: it’s no longer cinematographically driven but character driven. Yet the noir is undeniably omnipresent in other ways until the very end of the film. For instance, the looped first and last scenes with Ben Affleck’s voice over, “I wish I could break my wife’s skull,” embodies the everlasting noir mood: What is she really thinking? She could strike at any time, but we will never know when and how.  By repeating that scene David Fincher leads us to a false interpretation of the characters. Initially the scene suggests that Ben Affls intentions are dangerous. However the second time around, at the end of the film, we are aware of the context of the plot, and know who the real psycho killer is out among the two.

The film ends abruptly. No sudden moves or shouts are to be heard; only gasps and sighs of disbelief.  The viewer remains awe stricken, haunted with intrigue and fascination.

YANN MARTEL VS: ANG LEE

Yann Martel deemed Life of Pi as “un-filmable” because of its “enormous technical challenges.”  Indeed, filming a young adolescent boy alone with a Bengal Tiger on a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean poses certain technical challenges.

Yet, Ang Lee took on the project. Long gone are the days of Bringing Up Baby (Howard Hawks, 1983), when actors were in contact with actual wild animals on set (Katherine Hepburn was almost attacked by the leopard on the set of Bringing Up Baby, she was saved by his trainer as the leopard was about to lunge at her back). Ang Lee was not allowed to shoot the tiger at the same time as his lead actor, Pi Patel (played by Suraj Sharma). Instead, he had to intercut between footage of a real tiger and a digital one. Bill Westenhofer (visual effect supervisor of Life of Pi) disposed of hundreds of hours of real tiger footage, and he conducted a team of fifteen artists to work on animating the ten million hairs of the tiger’s fur. The amount of meticulous work put in to the CGI alone is astounding. However did Ang Lee take this device a little too far?

When Avatar (James Cameron, 2009) came out, spectators were drawn to its innovative visuals rather than its mediocre screenplay. This isn’t the case with Life of Pi (thankfully), and let us not forget that is was a best-selling novel first and foremost. Although Yann Martel defined his story as “un-filmable,” it would be absurd to deny the copious amount of stunning imageries he uses throughout his novel. Through an illustrious description of a fanciful island, the ocean’s “smooth skin reflecting the light with a million mirrors,” and comparing the killing of a dorado to “beating a rainbow to death,” one can’t help themselves from picturing while reading. Ang Lee clearly saw this too – especially through the sea-life sequences. He personifies the sea as a powerful and unpredictable key to the plot. The story sways through the constant rhythmic movements of the waves, making the spectators feel slightly seasick at times (as well as the protagonists). The grandeur of the movements are epic, and the scene when the wale crashes out of the fluorescent sea (due to the jellyfish) is memorable (the thought of it still sends shivers down my spine). Another striking moment was when the camera swam through the ocean like a fish, focusing on an Architeuthis (giant squid) who then latches on to a whale, that transforms itself into the Pondicherry zoo animals (hippopotamus, crocodile, leopard, giraffe, rhinoceros and zebra). This may all sounds abstract (and absurd?) but it’s a lot more interesting than the mindless science fiction depicted in Avatar.

                           

Life of Pi is about the power of story-telling : “Doesn’t the telling of something always become a story,” reminds us of a Socratic comment. This “mise en abîme” automatically becomes clearer in the book, as it is literally “a story within a story.” There are two narrators: the writer who is directly speaking to the reader, and Pi, the main character, of whom we read the story. This isn’t very clear in the film. It would seem as though we have three narrators: the writer, the young Pi and the older Pi. The film overuses flashback between the older and younger Pi, which interrupts the magic of the story-telling. The voice of the young Pi (largely explored in the book, as we read his direct thoughts), comes out as quite abstract for someone who hasn’t read the book. It is difficult to sympathize with the character because although we see him struggle a great deal to stay alive, we are not aware of his immediate thoughts. Perhaps more voice-over on his part would have done his character justice make his character more believable. I also have some reservations about the casting of Suraj Sharma (cast as the young Pi). A stronger and more experienced actor would of done his part better justice. The monologue at the end was well performed but some of the dialogues when he speaks to the animals in the boat sound off. The first animal he speaks to is the hyena. The delivery of his lines lacks emotion – he is clearly reciting them to a green screen. Perhaps it’s also a failure on the part of the screenwriter who should of internalised his speech rather than having Pi ramble out loud. It would of made more sense to have him speak out later on in the film, after his solitude grew to an outgoing state of delirium (I can’t help but think of Tom Hanks and his beloved Wilson in Cast Away).The rest of the time, he is shouting out to God in numerous rainstorms. This too fails to develop his part as we cannot hear nor decrypt his words due to the high level of sound effects in the background. In the book, there are moments that make us smile when we realize that the narrator is just a boy. For example, the description of the “ugly beyond redemption,” hyena (along with another vivid description of the tiger), the detailed butchering of the turtle (explaining his disgust, especially as he’s a vegetarian). There are many survival elements in the book that we fail to see in the movie. Perhaps it was because of the explicit content it could have created (which would of changed the rating of the film from a PG 13 to an R, reducing its prospective audience). Overall, the actions on the boat seemed too fast paced through rapid editing (discovering the food, building multiple rafts although there was only one in the book). There was also a much larger emphasis on the visuals of the tiger and the aesthetics of the scene rather than developing Pi’s character. Lee’s interpretation of Martel’s ocean’s “smooth skin reflecting the light with a million mirrors,” is a still golden motionless ocean. It seems overdone and screams sci-fi.

“If you stumble at mere believability, what are you living for? Isn’t love hard to believe?” This appears in both the book and the film. We are reminded about story-telling and also the theme of Love. To my great disappointment, the romance story between Pi and Anandi at the beginning was an added element to the film – and an unnecessary one too. The story is meant to “make you believe in God.” Pi is obsessed with learning how to love God so surely that should have been the only source of Love. Ang Lee chose to delete one of the most amusing and key scenes of the book when the religious leaders of Pi’s three chosen religions confront each other and refuse to believe that Pi is equally “a good Christian boy,” “a good Muslim boy,” and “born a Hindu,” therefore will “die a Hindu.” When the argument turns to Pi, his response (memorable to say the least) is “Bapu Gandhi said, ‘All religions are true.’ I just want to love God.” The three men are forced to approve of this and the argument comes to an end. From one shot to another, the movie shows Pi discovering a Catholic church to then praying on a rug at home. It’s as if Ang Lee chose to replace Pi’s religious encounter with one dull puppy-love relationship. Is he dumbing it down purposely, willing to avoid any religious and political conflict?  Looking back, the warm lighting at the beginning, used in the Pondicherry zoo with the Parisian music playing as well as the Hindu Lullaby reminds us of a the beginning of an upbeat contemporary Disney movie. Story-telling shouldn’t have to immediately be linked to child-like fantasy. Life of Pi is a story about youth to begin with, but Pi is clearly mature and driven. It’s as if suddenly Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo Del Toro, 2006) became a children’s movie. It’s far from being one, although Ophelia clearly chooses to compare her real life to a world of fantasy that she makes up in her head. In my opinion, Ang Lee was challenged by who his targeted audience really was, drowning himself into the quality of his effects and failing to exploit the true “Adult” themes which are, devotion to religion/God, and developing your survival instinct.

I hate to sound influenced by the “dichotomous thinking,” expressed by Robert Stam in The Theory and Practise of Adaptation, which relates to a “bitter rivalry between film and literature.” Perhaps I was too harsh when criticizing the film’s visual effects which are pleasing to the eye, and I don’t want to downsize the fastidious work of Ang Lee. I do believe that Film and Novel should be treated as two different entities (as they are) and in the case of Life of Pi, they could work hand in hand. One for the treatment of the visuals, and the other for the integrity of the character. Lastly, one can’t help but notice a faint echo to Big Fish (Tim Burton, 2003), where we had a similar interweaving plot differentiating “Man from Myth,” and “Fact from Fiction.”