Movie Review: Take Shelter

Take Shelter (2011)
Written & Directed By: Jeff Nichols
Starring: Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain

"You think I'm crazy? Well, listen up, there's a storm coming like nothing you've ever seen, and not a one of you is prepared for it."

A quietly unsettling indie hit, Take Shelter is more character study than apocalyptic thriller, leaving the audience just as overwhelmed and perplexed as the central protagonist -- a man who literally lets fear rule his life.

The setting: rural Ohio. Hard-working and loving family man Curtis (Michael Shannon) is plagued by shockingly realistic apocalyptic visions while he sleeps. Curtis isn't sure if he's inherited schizophrenia from his mother or if his visions are real -- a glimpse into the very near future. He decides to err on the side of caution and builds a survivalist shelter for himself and his wife, Samantha (Jessica Chastain), and young daughter, Hannah (Tova Stewart). Curtis is not a particularly religious man -- instead of looking up Bible passages to uncover answers to his violent and chilling visions, he checks out books on psychiatry from the local library instead. The overriding theme in the film is fear -- fear of economic hardship, fear of health problems, fear of losing those we love most, and fear of death and the end of the world. Fear often influences our greatest decisions and it's what ultimately sparks Curtis into action, regardless of what those around him think.


Take Shelter has a slow-burning narrative, carefully revealing the frustration and fear felt by a man unraveling right before his family's eyes. Despite its leisurely pace there's never a dull moment.

From a visual standpoint alone the film is stunning -- the apocalyptic visions are chillingly vague and appropriately ominous; like Curtis, you aren't sure exactly what they mean ...or if they even actually exist. With its smart use of CGI, the film conjures realistic thunderstorms and inky rain showers, using them to greater effect than any big-budget blockbuster.

Curtis (Shannon) and an apocalyptic vision.

In the lead role, Shannon is remarkable. His quietly commanding performance as Curtis is one of the highlights of 2011 and it's fascinating to watch this gentle character struggle with inner demons he just doesn't understand. A man of few words, Curtis is hesitant to explain his situation to his loving wife -- in fact, his pent up frustration and fear only boils over once in a shocking fire and brimstone speech that rattles those around him, himself included.

As Samantha, a religiously devout woman who dotes on her husband and young daughter, Chastain makes another case for why she's the biggest star of the year. Her performance is the definition of a supporting player -- she may be secondary in the plot but she makes her presence felt with a quietly beautiful performance. It'd be a shame if this wasn't the film she was recognized for at the Oscars.

Although the final scene may polarize moviegoers, Take Shelter leaves an undeniable impact. It's an intelligent piece of cinema that provokes a powerful response. Up-and-comer writer-director Jeff Nichols has crafted a resonating film that utilizes our societal fears to propel the story forward.

Part psychological thriller, character piece and family drama, Take Shelter is one of the highlights of 2011. 

FINAL GRADE: A-

Movie Rant: The debate over the SAG Award nominees

For me, this is the most wonderful time of the year. It's Christmas, hockey season and a prelude to all the upcoming film awards where I get to catch up on everything I've missed over the year. Nothing satiates my passion for cinema more than a good film debate.

I've enjoyed the SAG Awards in the past -- I often find them to the be the most accurate indicator as to which films and performances deserve the greatest accolades. The Golden Globes are a joke and the Oscars rarely get it right, which is why I've often relied on the SAG awards to set things straight -- well, kind of anyway. Moreso than the Oscars.

Not the case this year. Today's announcement of the 2012 nominees brought a lot of disappointment -- not just to me but all over the Internet, especially Twitter (you can see the full list of nominees HERE). A lot of people seem shocked at some of the obvious snubs in a what should have been a breakout year for smaller films and up-and-coming actors.

That being said, they did make some really great choices:
-Midnight in Paris (Best Ensemble): One of my favourite films of 2011, it's one of those feel-good whimsical gems with a ridiculously perfect (and charming) cast and a story that just sweeps you away. I was worried it'd get lost in the shuffle. Still not sure where it stands with regards to the Oscars, though.
-Brad Pitt (Best Actor, Moneyball): I'm not surprised they went with the audience-friendly baseball movie. Pitt has had a truly breakout year with diverse performances. He could very easily have been nominated for Tree of Life; however, his performance as Billy Beane in Moneyball truly carries the film into a whole new level in the sports genre. He won't win but in his case it will be an honour to have been recognized.
-Christopher Plummer (Best Supporting Actor, Beginnners): This nearly-forgotten indie from earlier this year boasted one of the finest performances of 2011. We should all be happy that they remembered Plummer's lovely turn as an older gentleman finally coming to terms with his homosexuality. His performance is a lesson in how to subtly convey a persons inner conflict without having to resort to scenery-chewing.

Here's where, in my opinionated opinion, the SAG Awards got it wrong:
-Jessica Chastain (Best Supporting Actress, The Help): Chastain has been the story of the year, the toast of Hollywood. When was the last time an actress had such an astounding breakout year? She co-starred in four films and has one more coming up (Coriolanus) to round out 2011. She gave two truly stunning performances in Tree of Life and Take Shelter. And while she was equally wonderful in The Help it's a shame that the obvious love-fest for the 1960s-era drama resulted in her receiving a nomination for one of her "lesser" performances. I'm shocked she wasn't recognized for Tree of Life or Take Shelter but I suppose we should just be grateful that she was recognized in the first place.
-Michael Fassbender for Shame: Probably the BIGGEST shock of them all -- a lack of Best Actor nomination for the finest male performance of 2011 (that I've seen so far). Fassbender is outstanding in Shame -- a raw, realistic and truly challenging role. The fact that the film was given the equivalent of a porn rating in the U.S. likely damaged his chance of being recognized for his work. Unfortunate.
-Carey Mulligan for Shame: Some may argue that she didn't have a whole lot of screen time -- but remember when Judi Dench won Best Supporting Actress in 1998 for clocking in only eight minutes in Shakespeare in Love? Mulligan was heartbreaking and more than held her own alongside Fassbender.
-Shame: I suppose the lack of a Best Ensemble nomination shouldn't be all that surprising. It likely had to do with the MPAA ratings. Still disappointing. There's no way Bridesmaids was the better film in this department. To those stuffy, uptight SAG members, Shame is obviously too hot to handle.
-Michael Shannon for Take Shelter: In many critics circles, his performance was voted the best of the year. There's really no excuse for his snub -- unless he's secretly anti-SAG or not a member. People may be torn over the film itself but Shannon was just so good that he should should have been considered an automatic nominee.
-Elizabeth Olsen for Martha Marcy May Marlene:  I think a lot of people expected her to be a shoo-in. In her breakout role she carries the emotional weight of the film on her shoulders and never lets the ball drop once. She'll make you forget there were ever other actresses with the last name Olsen. I look forward to more of her work. I can only hope she's recognized by the Academy.
-Andy Serkis for The Rise of the Planet of the Apes: I've been on his bandwagon since Day 1, when he first started doing interviews about why motion capture performance is still acting. It's amazing how many people just brush it off as "voice work." Recognition from the SAG or the Academy would go a long way towards opening peoples eyes to this different (but still legitimate) method of performance art. Serkis deserves his chance in the spotlight.

Which of the SAG nominations to you agree (and disagree) with?

Film Noir Series: Out of the Past (1947)

I'm continuing my ongoing Film Noir series for Next Projection. You can check out my post HERE. The third film on my list is Out of the Past (1947).

Like its sleepy-eyed antihero, Out of the Past is disorderly and complex – a thrillingly chaotic example of a multiple-narrative film noir.

Former private investigator Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum) is leading a quiet life in a small town in rural California where he owns a gas station. However, Jeff harbours a secret – one that is gradually revealed when his past reaches out to tap him on the shoulder one day. Back in another life in New York, he was known as Jeff Markham, hired by Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas), a gangster willing to pay whatever is necessary to get his double-crossing girlfriend back. Kathie (Jane Greer), the girlfriend in question, left Whit’s body riddled with four bullets before taking off with his $40,000. Whit wants her back, but not for revenge. As he tells Jeff: “I just want her back. When you see her you’ll understand better.” The beautiful, doe-eyed Kathie is a maneater – shooting and conniving her way out of tough situations. The ultimate femme fatale, she would appear to have both Jeff and Whit wrapped around her finger.

Jeff’s story is told in a flashback narrative as he reveals his past to his new girlfriend Ann (Virginia Huston) on a long trip to Lake Tahoe. He tells Ann everything: How he tracked Kathie down for Whit, followed the trail to Mexico and instantly fell in love with her. Jeff goes even further; telling Ann he lied to Whit about finding Kathie so the two could run away together.  When Jeff and Kathie are spotted in San Francisco by Jeff’s former partner Jack Fisher (Steve Brodie) Kathie shoots him dead – leaving Jeff with the corpse and Kathie’s bank book showing that she had, indeed, stolen the $40,000 from Whit.

All of this takes place in the opening 40 minutes. The rest of the film is set in the present and includes two other storylines which all culminate in a violent finale. Screenwriter Daniel Mainwaring (the blacklisted novelist writing under the pseudonym “Geoffrey Homes”) wrote the script to his own 1946 novel, Build My Gallows High. The pulpy dialogue is rife with quotable one-liners (“If anyone’s gonna die, baby, I’m gonna die last”). Despite its melodrama and convoluted plot, Out of the Past is still thrillingly paced and pays close attention to the rising tension between Jeff, Whit and Kathie.

Half of the action takes place in lush, outdoor locations instead of stuffy soundstage sets, lending the film an atmosphere of authenticity rarely felt in the noir genre. Director Jacques Tourneur and cinematographer Nicholas Musuraca used rural locations, untouched by human corruption, to visually contrast the two lives of Jeff Bailey. The scenic landscape is as calm and beautiful as Jeff’s life is chaotic and violent.

As Jeff Bailey, Mitchum makes for an intriguing noir antihero. Constantly surrounded by a bright white ring of cigarette smoke and easily seduced by Kathie (does this make him a hopeless romantic or a deluded chump?) Jeff ultimately comes to terms with his fate – resigned to the fact that the majority of his choices in life have been poor. Mitchum’s slow, deliberate speech pattern and heavy-lidded eyes give Jeff the world-weary appearance of a man who has seen it all – the eternal cynic.

Out of the Past is essential viewing for any cineaste. Like Murder, My Sweet (1944) before it, the film is a measuring stick with which to gauge the success of every noir before and after its release.

FINAL GRADE: A-

Film Noir Series: Murder, My Sweet (1944)

I'm continuing my ongoing film noir series. You can check out my post on the Next Projection website HERE. The second film on my list is Murder, My Sweet (1944).

This iconic and richly layered film from RKO Pictures remains a highlight of the film noir genre, with its famously glib antihero at the centre – a man with a witty one-liner for every insult thrown his way.

Based on the Raymond Chandler pulp novel Farewell, My Sweet, this highly quotable adaptation is a quintessential film noir. With screenwriter John Paxton at the helm, the sharply scripted Murder, My Sweet expertly weaves together what are essentially three separate narratives. The film utilizes the traditional film noir tropes, complete with a flashback framing narrative and descriptive voice-over narration. Director Edward Dymtryk created a moody, atmospheric masterpiece. You can practically smell the whiskey that the characters chug down. Dymtryk and Paxton neatly knit the loose narrative threads together and the end result is a dark, seedy and occasionally violent ode to the crime dramas of Raymond Chandler.

Private investigator, Philip Marlowe (Dick Powell), is hired by Moose Malloy (Mike Mazurki), a longtime crook recently sprung from jail after serving a lengthy sentence. Malloy is concerned about the whereabouts of his beloved moll Velma Valento, whom he hasn’t seen for the last six years. The case becomes a tougher nut to crack than Marlowe originally anticipated, leading him into a tangled web of deceit, bribery and theft.

The visuals lensed by cinematographer Harry J. Wilde explore the dark recesses of the human psyche through lavish visual concepts that literally reveal the state of paranoia in which Marlowe finds himself. A literal black haze moves over the screen as a fainting Marlowe narrates, “A black pool opened up at my feet. I dived in. It had no bottom.” His bizarre hallucinations are conveyed by overlapping imagery and cobwebs that seem to literally cling to the screen and blur the audiences’ vision.

Dick Powell (left) and Claire Trevor.

Dick Powell portrays Marlowe as a world-weary “everyman” – even though his career may involve him in the happenings of the criminal underworld, his moral compass remains intact.
As Marlowe himself explains early on in the film: “I’m just a small businessman in a very messy business, but I like to follow through on a sale.” A former crooner in the musical genre, Powell was cast against type yet convincingly made the transition from a song-and-dance man to a P.I. antihero.

Anne Shirley plays Ann Grayle, a woman who teams with Marlowe when she discovers her father is involved in the mess surrounding the whereabouts of Velma Valento. Earnest and eager to help, Ann’s apparent naïve charm casts a spell over Marlowe, although her motivations are not always clear.

As Helen Grayle, Ann’s bombshell stepmother, Claire Trevor is flawless, the very embodiment of the femme fatale. She’s platinum blonde and all legs – she’s introduced to the audience sitting curled up on the couch, like a predatory cat waiting to pounce. With her plunging necklines, glittering jewels and overtly sexual haughtiness, Helen is the type of woman who could lure a man into a life of corruption.

And then there’s Mike Mazurki, an absolute revelation as Moose Malloy. The former professional wrestler was more than just a craggy face with a body built like a piece of concrete. He gives a touching performance as a lovesick criminal who just wants to be reunited with his girlfriend.

Murder, My Sweet is ultimately a higher breed of film noir – highly quotable, expertly paced and well acted. There are few finer examples of the genre.

FINAL GRADE: A

Movie Review: Shame

Shame (2011)

Written and Directed By: Steve McQueen

Starring: Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan

"We're not bad people. We just come from a bad place."

When it comes to sophomore efforts there's always that fear that a director won't live up to the same level of excellence achieved in his debut. However, after the 2008 film Hunger catapulted British director Steve McQueen (and his star Michael Fassbender) to stardom, his follow-up film is among the best of 2011. It's also one of the most explicit theatrical releases in years and is bound to stir up some controversy. 

Controversy aside, Shame is ultimately a character study, a close look at the isolating nature of addiction. That gradual sense of separation from the tangible and the emotional that is experienced by the central figure in the film is something many can identify with in our current digital age. 

Brandon Sullivan (Michael Fassbender) is handsome, owns a beautiful apartment and owes his financial success to his cushy executive job. However, beneath the surface lies a chronic addiction -- one that requires Brandon to constantly, almost exhaustively, seek sexual release, albeit without ever finding true fulfillment. He follows a meticulous, rigid schedule each day -- beginning with masturbation in the shower and ending with picking up a prostitute at night. When his younger sister, Sissy (a wonderful Carey Mulligan) shows up at his apartment after a nasty breakup, she encrouches on his personal space, forcing Brandon to break out of his pattern and come face-to-face with his addiction and obsessive nature. Their relationship is not a traditional one shared between two siblings. With Brandon and Sissy there is an unspoken tension lying just beneath the surface -- somewhere along the way, something happened between them, although the viewer is left without answers which only adds to our unease. 

Brandon's lack of real connection with the people around him coincides with the films subtler theme of humanity's gradual loss of basic connection in the modern world. The New York in which Brandon lives is seen as cold and unfriendly, a place filled with concrete buildings and self-involved people. His is a world where the sun never shines and Brandon must go through the motions of interacting with the people he meets in lounges and bars with his egotistical boss (and only friend), David (James Badge Dale), a man who communicates with his own young son via web cam. 

Some of the most revealing scenes in Shame are often the ones that require a very limited use of dialogue. In an early scene, we witness the the interaction between Brandon and a pretty woman (Lucy Walters) on the subway late at night. While both ride the train in silence, sitting across from one another, a wordless exchange  is passed between them. The scene is astounding in its ability to go through a range of emotions in just under three minutes -- from initial attraction, to flirtation, to devastating regret. It's a shockingly powerful scene that is a highlight in an already excellent film. 

Fassbender gives the best male performance of 2011, to date. His Brandon is a man of obsession and desperation and Fassbender is able to convey this through his expressive eyes and quietly commanding presence. Watching him struggle to connect with Marianne (Nicole Beharie), a colleague he asks out on a date, allows the viewer to see another side of Brandon -- the charming man beneath the cold surface is briefly and touchingly revealed. But his attempts at human connection are more often than not in vain. Fassbender's performance is nothing short of astonishing. 

Shame hits you like a ton of bricks and sits heavily on your shoulders. It stays with you long after the final credits. It's an absorbing, piercing look at isolation and addiction -- a true work of art that requires more than one viewing, in order to pick up on its smaller nuances. You'll leave the theatre with conflicting emotions -- an effect all great films should have on its audience. 

FINAL GRADE: A

Film Noir Series: Dillinger (1945)

I've recently started blogging for the Toronto-based film website, Next Projection. They also have a Facebook page and a Twitter account.

I'll be doing a Film Noir series for them, which I'm really excited about. You can check out my first post HERE. I also plan on putting them on here, to help me keep track.

The first film on my list: Dillinger (1945).

Before establishing himself as a weathered thug in films like Born to Kill (1947) and Reservoir Dogs (1992), Lawrence Tierney made his major film debut playing one of America’s most notorious bank robbers.

Clocking in at a brisk 70 minutes, this mostly forgotten crime noir chronicles the illicit career of John Dillinger at breakneck speed. Having robbed more than a dozen banks with his rag-tag group of associates, Dillinger joined the ranks of Bonnie and Clyde and Pretty Boy Floyd as the top newsmakers of the Depression era.

However, Dillinger is not a traditional biopic. The Oscar nominated screenplay by Philip Yordan played it fast and loose with the facts. Yordan chose not to dwell on the motivations that saw Dillinger resort to a life of crime. The film is, essentially, a largely fictitious glossing over of the infamous career criminal who, at the time of the films release, had only been dead for 11 years.

Lawrence Tierney (right) as Dillinger.

A B-movie from Monogram Pictures, the tiny “poverty row” studio that made a quick buck with low budget films between 1931-1953, Dillinger went on to gross more than 4 million dollars at the box office – this despite its obvious flaws.  At the time, Dillinger defied the Production Code’s unofficial rule to relegate real life criminal activity to the background in Hollywood films, likely the reason behind its popularity.

No one else in Hollywood would touch the story of Public Enemy #1, leaving the door open for Monogram to adapt Dillinger’s exploits to its own liking.

Riddled with inconsistencies, Dillinger begins with a framing narrative that is quickly abandoned. A theatre audience listens as Dillinger’s elderly father recounts his sons’ misadventures. The film than moves into a flashback of Dillinger’s early introduction to a life of crime and the story proceeds from there. There is no concluding scene that features Dillinger’s father finishing his account.

Another curiosity comes out in the DVD commentary (featuring John Milius, the director of 1973’s Dillinger) where it’s revealed that the 1945 film actually used stock footage in some of its prominent scenes. Most notably, the tear gas robbery sequence was lifted straight from Fritz Lang’s 1937 film You Only Live Once – complete with a close-up shot of the films star, Henry Fonda, peering out of the back of his car.

Although some have argued against the films classification as film noir, director Max Nosseck utilized traditional narrative devices and visuals often associated with the genre. With its use of flashbacks, albeit briefly, and reductionist lighting, Dillinger features sequences with heavy rain, thick clouds of cigarette smoke and spinning newspapers with bold titles revealing Dillinger’s criminal activity to propel the plot forward. In terms of its aesthetic qualities, the film as aged remarkably well.

However, its strongest facet is Tierney; he makes for a shifty, anxious and explosive Dillinger. Although the character development is kept to the bare minimum you understand he’s a man to be feared – the type of guy who would take serious offense to being called a “two-bit chiseler”.  His barely concealed rage simmers just beneath the surface. Tierney doesn’t strive to make Dillinger likeable, opting instead to portray him as an outright villain with questionable motivations.

Dillinger is strange hybrid of gangster flick, film noir and docudrama, without ever quite achieving success as any of the three in terms of storytelling. Its simplistic approach to storytelling propels the action forward, however it ultimately leaves little impact outside of Tierney’s performance.

FINAL GRADE: C+

Movie Rant: When Theatres Screen Classic Films

James Dean, a Rebel Without a Cause (1955)

I've found a new obsession and I need to start making it a weekly thing.

About three weeks ago I finally got around to actually seeing a film at the TIFF Bell Lightbox here in Toronto. I've been there before, most notably for the Tim Burton exhibit a few months back. But, for whatever reason, it has taken me this long to actually buy a ticket to see a movie there.

Maybe I was subconsciously waiting for the right one, the perfect movie for the perfect first experience.

Well, it came along in the form of a Spotlight on director Nicholas Ray. I bought two tickets to see Rebel Without a Cause and took my sister. It's unlikely we could have found a better film to introduce us to the TIFF experience. I got to watch an iconic film in all its scratchy, crackly glory. No high-definition Blu-Ray edition just popped into a player. No DVD anniversary edition. It was actual film. It popped, cracked and showed its wear and tear.

I've seen Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) in an anniversary theatrical run a few years back, but it was essentially just the DVD copy projected on the screen. Still incredible, but not quite the same experience.

Another miracle of miracles: the audience remained silent throughout the entire screening of Rebel. No talking, no cellphone-checking and no heaving around their weight in restlessness. You could have heard a pin drop. They laughed at the right moments, but other than that, nada. It's rare to have such a perfect viewing experience.

I told my friends about the great experience I had while watching Rebel Without a Cause (oh, and seeing James Dean on the big screen for the first time wasn't too shabby, either) and I recommended that we see a movie together sometime soon.

Jon Cryer and Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink (1986)

That "sometime soon" happened to be this past Friday night. We had a girls night and chose John Hughes' teen angst movie, Pretty in Pink. To see that wonderful piece of melodramatic teen fluff ("What about prom, Blaine? What about prom?") on screen was equally awesome -- ragged and scratched, it looked and sounded so good.

You could almost feel the audience drowning in nostalgia. With its fantastic soundtrack and quotable lines, it would appear that John Hughes movies are still meant to be viewed in their natural state -- on the big screen.

There's just something about seeing your favourite films on the big screen, especially if they were originally released before your time. To have that opportunity to go back and enjoy it the way film audiences of the past did is a huge treat for any film buff.

This must be the equivalent of what music buffs feel when they sit back with a glass of wine and listen to their vinyl records.

What classics or old favourites have you seen on the big screen?