A Chinese war epic depicting the “Rape of Nanjing” by the Japanese Army in 1937 that veers dangerously close to Orientalist (or Edward Zwick-ian, in cinematic terms) territory by focusing on John Miller (played by Christian Bale), an American mortician forced to impersonate a Catholic priest in order to save a convent of young girls. And, make no mistake, this dashing white man does get to save the day in the end. But unlike “The Last Samurai” or even “Dances with Wolves,” there are significant plot reasons and historical precedent for this Westerner’s heroic opportunity, even if the character’s overall arc is shortchanged in the process. Aesthetically, Zhang dials back his flamboyant style in order to capture the dirt and grime of war-torn China, but still makes room for some virtuoso tracking shots à la “Saving Private Ryan.” Though the film still threatens to become the worst kind of foreign blockbuster — whitewashed and Hollywoodized — its devotion to its story and characters — whether they be priests or prostitutes — ultimately proves its worth.
(Source: artsandopinion.com)
A good ol’ fashioned, blood-soaked, Canadian hockey romp — think a 21st century “Slap Shot.” But for all its nationalist pride and sensationalist violence, the film is deeply problematic on a couple levels. Despite being scripted by Canadians Jay Baruchel and Evan Goldberg, it nonetheless plays into the same kind of overblown stereotypes we’re used to from American depictions — lots of beer-guzzling, funny accents, and sentence-ending ‘ehs.’ Perhaps intended ironically, but more likely done to appeal to the American market. Further — and more worrisome — the film glorifies and glamourizes the role of the enforcer in hockey (as its title makes plain); mindless violence might’ve been okay in the ’70s, but in this age of headshots, concussions and ex-goon suicides, it’s more than a little troubling. Still, there’s laughs aplenty to be had, so perhaps it’s best to ignore the issues and just have a good time.
Plus, Liev Schreiber as a Newfie!
(Source: artsandopinion.com)
“Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen.”
“Carla was the prom queen.”
Badass.
Creepily effective, with a terrific Gothic atmosphere that is nearly ruined by the horribly grating performance of Julie Harris. Thank god she dies.
A typical Foreign Language Oscar winner: cloying, melodramatic, unsubtle, and historically important.
Suitably heartbreaking and depressing. Argentina seems to have had quite the turbulent history.
It’s like Jane Eyre crossed with Vertigo, and, like the latter, it loses something when the mystery is revealed to be not-so-supernatural. Still, it’s terrifically Gothic and spooky.
Another Oscar picture I’m largely indifferent to. Lazily written (the opening expository monologue is about the worst I’ve ever heard), boringly directed, and morally simplistic. And Clooney is always just Clooney - he can never really come across as the loser he’s supposed to here. At least Shailene Woodley is cute.
Biting and hilarious. Tourists are a funny brand (I say this having been one myself many a time). Do they really have no concept of their conceit?
