I see nightmares of suicide, I see tales of abandonment, survival, and grief. I see psychos and murderers, and potential world destruction. Oh, it’s just another ten movies with the female of the species sitting in the director’s chair.
Frozen River (2008) – Courtney Hunt — Steve Schweighofer
Courtney Hunt’s brilliantly simple writing and direction of this indie labor of love gave us of one of the best films of its decade. The border spanning Akwesasne reserve is the setting for her human smuggling drama that not only shines a non-judgmental light on the issue at hand, but also on the plight and living conditions of First Nations/Native Americans living in this autonomous region that recognizes its own sovereignty over that of the US or Canada. Every winter, the St Lawrence River freezes over and provides a frozen bridge that is used to smuggle everything from drugs and cigarettes to, in the case of Hunt’s story, desperate illegal immigrants attempting to pass from one side of the border to the other. Hunt perfectly conveys the tension one would expect in such an endeavor and manages to add some harrowing layers to each occurrence, none more so than a scene where a duffel bag, suspected of containing explosives, is left out on the frozen river and we subsequently discover it contains the infant child of the Pakistani refugees making the crossing. And this is not even the climatic event that allows for the full reveal of the film’s themes of sacrifice and redemption. Melissa Leo should have won the Oscar for her portrayal of Ray Eddy, a mother who pursues the answer for her families comfort and security – a new double-wide trailer – and she is more than ably supported by the late Misty Upham in a heartbreaking performance as Lila Littlewolf, also a mother, who is at odds with both the white mans’ law and her own tribe. In 97 short minutes, Courtney Hunt obliterates cultural and racial boundaries without once being political, while at the same time providing us with a thrilling story set in the dark corner of our own backyard where nobody ever goes.
American Psycho (2000) – Mary Harron — Marshall Flores
Bret Easton Ellis’ American Psycho – the infamously lurid critique of American capitalism and consumer culture – was something I thought was completely unfilmable. Ellis’ satirical vivisection of the materialistic, shallow narcissism of the 80’s was a rich read, but there was just so much grotesque depravity permeating the world of serial killer Patrick Bateman. I strongly felt any honest adaptation of “Psycho” would not survive the scrutiny of film censors. But after a decade of development and multiple directors/stars attached, director Mary Harron (along with screenwriter Guinevere Turner) delivered a first-rate adaptation in 2000. Combined with a tour-de-force performance from Christian Bale, Harron’s “Psycho” stays true to its perverse roots while also excising Ellis’ excesses (and avoiding the wrath of the MPAA). With this “less is more” approach, Ellis’ caustic commentary on the “greed is good” decade is strengthened and focused. Harron and Turner also insert in a feminist subtext not present in the novel – all the male characters are interchangeable, soulless corporate vipers; only the female characters have some shred of humanity. That said, Harron certainly doesn’t shy away from detailing Bateman’s depravities on-screen, instilling a glossy, horror chic visual style appropriate to the setting. For example, the now-legendary scene where Bateman murders Paul Allen to “Hip to Be Square” isn’t explicitly gory, but the shiny, designer-looking axe, the crimson geyser spraying on Bateman’s face after the first whack, Bateman’s sitting on his couch half-drenched in blood while lighting a cigar – the entire scene plays like a horror yuppie funhouse depiction of Jackson Pollack at work. A dazzling, unforgettable moment that successfully evokes both shock and laughs — just like the rest of the film.
Jesus’ Son (1999) – Alison Maclean — Steve Schweighofer
“When I’m rushing on my run/And I feel just like Jesus’ son/And I guess I just don’t know/And I guess that I just don’t know“. Lou Reed’s song, Heroin, from which the title comes, neither condemns nor condones the junkie’s high, but simply describes it. That is precisely what Alison Maclean expertly manages in her faithful and wildly episodic film adaptation of Denis Johnson’s wonderful collection of short stories by the same name. Films about drug abuse and addiction usually fall into one of two camps with the preachy finger-wagging sort being in the solid majority. Every decade or so we get works of great imagination, humor and poetry, such as Trainspotting and Requiem for a Dream. Jesus’ Son is one of these. Billy Crudup – he of the four TONY acting nominations who can’t breakthrough in H’wood to save his life – plays Fuckhead, our Horse-addicted Huck Finn on his crazy encounters with drugs, women, crazies, do-gooders and the sometimes harsh and often glorious things he sees along the way. Maclean smartly veered from Johnson’s work and combined all of Fuckhead’s sexual encounters into a single character, played by Samantha Morton. This gives us a bit of an anchor in a very riley sea of comings and goings where the likes of Dennis Hopper, Jack Black, Holly Hunter Will Patton and Denis Leary pop up like whack-a-moles. Rivaling Adam Kimmel’s outstanding cinematography is the super-sized adapted score, which includes dozens of tracks ranging from Dylan to Barry Sadler; from The McCoys Sloopy to Dorothy Moore’s Misty Blue, each track perfectly placed for maximum impact. At one point, Fuckhead says ”All these, weirdoes, and me, getting a little better every day right in the middle of ’em. I had never known. I had never even imagined for a heartbeat that, there might be a place in the world for people like us.” With writing – and overall filmmaking – like this, there should always be a place for Alison Maclean, who has somehow chosen docs, shorts and TV over feature films. That is a loss for film-goers.
The Savages (2007) – Tamara Jenkins — Tobi Ogunyemi
The most telling trait that The Savages carries with it, besides being a wicked top-shelf black comedy, is how human it carries itself – not just in its story but most importantly, with its characters. Siblings Jon and Wendy Savage have the difficult task of finding out and taking care of their increasingly senile father while they deal with the difficulties of their own lives as a college professor and a playwright respectively. As 2007 was a banner year in American cinema (especially on the independent front), Jenkins’ multi-layered writing and nuanced direction was up there among the best. The portrayal of generational abandonment and fracture within a family is harrowing to watch – what’s the best way to take care of a father when he needs it who never took care of his children when they needed it? But the performances by two master New York thespians by Linney and Hoffman anchor the portrayal and that question with such realism. Despite how hard the situation is, and the siblings are hard on each other as well, the love Wendy and Jon have for each other is apparent, from helping each other through their individual and tumultuous love lives to the last shot of them together hugging as Jon catches a cab. Oscar-nominated for Best Actress and Original Screenplay, Jenkins’ film is an incredible text on the multitude of levels that it delves into.
Deep Impact (1996) – Mimi Leder — Robin Write
You may think you know director Mimi Leder from the movies, but it is more likely you recognize the name from countless works on television, most notably China Beach and ER. Her filmography is actually only five features long. I’ve heard mixed things about the likes of The Peacemaker and Pay It Forward, but her most cinematic, crowd-pleasing film has to be Deep Impact, made in the late nineties by which time the disaster film was always a stone’s throw away. Leder’s big budget effort (penned by Bruce Joel Rubin and Michael Tolkin no less) packs quite a few punches in the entertainment arena, somehow remaining one of the more compelling, valid – can we say scientifically accurate – pictures of that genre surge. And a diverse, likable cast mixes kids (Elijah Wood, Leelee Sobieski), flavors of that time (Téa Leoni, James Cromwell), and acting veterans (Robert Duvall, Vanessa Redgrave). The tension and adrenaline of such end of world tragedy is fast-balled, while the finale offers some true hope in the message that we can rebuild our planet. And Morgan Freeman as the President of the United States, well, we all had that dream.
Originally posted August 2015.
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