Ironclad

It's becoming a habit.  I see a movie that I am unfamiliar with and would normally ignore, but then I notice an actor or director.  And then I recognize other cast members.  Pretty soon, I am watching the movie with the hope of discovering a diamond in the rough; the problem is that diamonds are (unsurprisingly) rare.  That's how I stumbled upon Ironclad.  Paul Giamatti, Brian Cox, Jason Flemyng and Derek Jacobi --- none of whom I trust to headline a movie, mind you --- tend to play solid supporting roles, and I had a vague recollection of James Purefoy from the Rome DVD covers.  The tagline is "Blood.  Will.  Run."  All of that should add up to a decent movie, right?

Judging by hair and makeup, I'd guess a period comedy

Ironclad opens with some narration about some of the basic reasons King John of England (Paul Giamatti) was forced to sign the Magna Carta, the document that essentially began the decline of the monarchy in the West and the rise of the individual.  This movie is not about the signing of the Magna Carta, though.  Ironclad is the story of what happened next, which is often overlooked.  After signing this important historical document, King John quickly waged war on the barons that had forced him to sign it, and he did it with Danish mercenaries.  

All of whom were designed by Frank Frazetta

Marshal (James Purefoy) was a Templar Knight who, like so many other recent film knights, had seen too much evil done in battle.  And, because this is a movie, that means that he is fated to see even more battle within the next few hours.  Marshal passed word of John's ill deeds on to others, including  the author of the Magna Carta, Archbishop Langton (Charles Dance), and a freedom-loving baron, William Albany (Brian Cox).  Agreeing that John must be stopped, the trio also agree that the place to do it is at Rochester Castle.  The castle isn't much to look at, but realty and strategic military objectives often share the same slogan: location, location, location.  If John plans to take the fight to London, he needs to capture Rochester Castle.  Albany and Marshal agree to take a few men to the castle and protect it to the last man against the evil of King John. 

Actual dialogue: "YEAAARRGH!"

I don't have any real problems with the idea of Ironclad.  Sure, I realize that the details of the film are not historically accurate, in the same way that the course of history isn't accurate when you play Sid Meier's Civilization on "Easy."

Above: my Civilization III navy, circa 1400

That reminds me...nobody ever uses the word "ironclad" in Ironclad.  Isn't that kind of strange?  It's not without precedent, of course, but I expected to see something heavily armored in the movie, at the very least.  Oh well, that's not a huge deal. 

While I have no problem with the idea behind Ironclad, I have some significant problems with its execution, starting with the cast.  Brian Cox was over-dramatic, but it was a part that called for some bombastic speeches, and he delivered them with enthusiasm.  Vladimir Kulich was pretty entertaining as John's lead Danish henchman, but he didn't get enough opportunities to show off.  I was conflicted over Paul Giamatti's performance as King John, though.  I liked that John isn't portrayed as a coward or a spoiled child, as he typically is.  I'm fine with the choice to make him into a meanie jerkface.  But Giamatti's typically solid performance has a hard time overcoming the fact that he looks like this:

You know...like Paul Giamatti in a bad wig and silly clothes

Giamatti chewed on some scenery and gave a couple of nasty speeches, but I couldn't enjoy his nastiness because he just looked silly.  The rest of the cast of Ironclad doesn't have quite the same problem.  While many of them looked nice, there wasn't much acting or characterization.

You'd think something cool was happening here, but no

James Purefoy is the lead in this film, but he doesn't do much.  He starts out as a reluctant warrior, winds up fighting, and grimaces his way through a love interest.  Kate Mara treats Purefoy's acting as a gambling bid, seeing his grimace and raising awkward motives and terrible dialogue.  The supporting cast is fairly noteworthy, but none of their performances are.  Derek Jacobi, Charles Dance, Jason Flemyng, and Mackenzie Crook are all welcome sights in a lesser-known film, but their parts are shallow and their screen time is limited, forcing the actors into well-trodden stereotypes the audience can understand without requiring anything like acting or character development. 

Example: Crook was referred to as "Gareth"

On the bright side, I thought Jamie Foreman was decently entertaining in his limited part and relative newcomer Aneurin Barnard wasn't completely obnoxious as the idealistic youth.

Ironclad is not a complete waste of time, though.  Director Jonathan English may not have shown any skill in making me care about the fate of any of these characters and he may have co-written a script that is not terribly accurate from the historical perspective, but he did manage to do this:

Yes, that's a hatchet splitting a skull like an overripe melon.  That's not all the ridiculous violence Ironclad has to offer, either.  Hands, feet and a tongue are all forcefully removed from their owners in this film.  There is even a scene where Jamie Foreman severs a man's arm and then proceeds to beat the man with his own arm.  There's a lot of what you might expect in a castle siege fight sequence (stabbings, arrows, tar, loss of life and limb, etc.), but even the typical fare is pretty decent.  Perhaps English's greatest achievement is that he gave the battle meaning by explaining the strategic significance of it.  At one point, John's top Dane gets annoyed that he is wasting his men on this little castle and wants to move on, which seems totally sensible.  Not only did English do a good job of giving the heroes a reason to fight and die for that castle, but he also had John explain why the bad guys needed to fight and die for the castle, too.

But is that enough to recommend Ironclad?  Uh, no.  A movie like this doesn't need to have witty banter or a well-written supporting cast, but it does need two or three important elements: a hero you root for, a villain you love to hate, and/or a romance that you give a damn about.  Purefoy's character isn't charismatic, he just seems weary, and that's a tough lead character type to watch. 

This is his "I'm glad we're having pie" look

Giamatti acted well enough as John, but his hair and the obviousness of some of his schemes (like the promise he made to the Danes) were just ridiculous.  And Kate Mara...her character is married to Derek Jacobi, and yet she spends her entire siege time intent on forcing Purefoy to break his Templar vows and have sexy time with her.  Sorry, Ironclad, you are zero for three.  Still, the action is pretty good, and the warfare felt authentic to the time period.  Plus, I learned a new use for pigs; they truly are a magical animal.  I wouldn't say that Ironclad is good, but it's halfway decent entertainment if you like battles and don't want to invest much emotions into the characters.

Gosford Park

Watching The Mirror Crack'd last month reminded me just how much I used to enjoy Agatha Christie novels.  Sure, they're a bit dated, but there is something I find appealing in a whodunnit with a limited number of suspects.  Luckily, there are very few whodunnits made into motion pictures, which means that it is relatively easy to find the most popular and critically-acclaimed entries in the genre.  According to a two-minute long internet search I conducted, the only famous whodunnits of this century are Gosford Park and Identity; I sure as hell wasn't going to subject myself to Identity again (John Cusack, please make better movies!), so I opted to watch Gosford Park.

The premise for Gosford Park is pretty straightforward, although the relationships between the characters are anything but.  Sir William McCordle (Michael Gambon) and Lady Sylvia McCordle (Kristin Scott Thomas) are entertaining for the weekend.  Their extended family and their servants all descend on Gosford Park for a few days of prim-and-proper 1930s British etiquette and dinners.  The servants defer to the needs of their masters, and the masters defer to Sir William, who has more than a few family members dependent on his generosity for their income.  Sir William, though, has had enough with generosity and plans to cut off a few needy family members.  The lives of the wealthy are not just their own, though; many among the help have intimate (read: sexy) knowledge of the masters.  With all the secret sexiness and financial desperation in the air, it is not a huge surprise that Sir William is found stabbed at his desk, at a time when almost anyone could have slipped away and done the deed.  It is a surprise when it is revealed that the stab was not the cause of death; someone else had killed Sir William, before he could be murdered by someone else.

Lower left: the look of a man who finds out there is a line to murder him

The cast of Gosford Park is large and ridiculously noteworthy; the ensemble is so large, in fact, that it is difficult to gauge the acting quality for most of the cast.

It is, almost but not at all literally, a cast of thousands

For the upper class characters, Michael Gambon stands out as the patriarch/victim; I became familiar with Gambon through Harry Potter, so I enjoy it when he plays characters with a bastard streak in them.  Kristin Scott Thomas was solid as your typical woman-married-to-a-wealthy-man-much-older-than-her, although I thought she was at her best when she was dealing with Ryan Phillipe.  Maggie Smith was fun as a crotchety old witch.  Camila Rutherford got to look dazed and confused.  I don't think I've ever seen Geraldine Somerville in a role outside of Harry Potter's mother, so that was mildly interesting.  Charles Dance didn't make much of an impression on me.  Tom Hollander was kind of wimpy in his role, but it was better than the pompous one he played in Pirates of the Caribbean.  Jeremy Northam, who is rarely in anything I want to watch, was surprisingly likable and actually sang quite well in this movie.  Bob Balaban (along with Maggie Smith) quietly delivered most of the film's humor.

Hilarity!

While not quite upper class, comedian Stephen Fry makes a short appearance as a humorously inept (but surprisingly plausible) police inspector.  The help were, surprisingly, given (by my estimates, anyway) a little more time to shine.  Helen Mirren had the meatiest role and was predictably excellent.  Emily Watson was also very good as the character that shows the point-of-view character, meekly played by Kelly Macdonald, how things work at formal functions.  This was a good film for long-established Brits; I thought Derek Jacobi had one of the better sub-sub-plots, and Alan Bates was solid as the head butler.  Richard E. Grant provided some very low-key humor, which suited his snooty character just fine.  Ryan Phillipe got to play a character with a twist, which he managed to not completely screw up.  Clive Owen rounded out the underlings by being rude and mysterious whenever he wasn't undressing me with his eyes.

There is just a crap ton of actors in this movie, and a surprising few made a lasting impression on me.  I haven't seen many of Robert Altman's films (please don't recommend The Player to me, it makes my eyes roll more than a teenage girl talking to her mother), but I know he likes to play with large, well-known casts.  I thought that worked in his favor in Gosford Park.  Really, the biggest problem with movie mysteries is that the audience knows that certain actors are destined to have important roles because they are well-known.  Having such a big cast, filled with recognizable actors makes both the victim and killer a lot more surprising.  As far as the standard pillars I judge directors by (cinematography, editing, cohesive storytelling, and actor-handling), Altman is fine, although nothing fantastic.  Instead, he focused on adding layers of nuance to this film.  Yes, it's a murder mystery, but it is also as much about the British class system as my favorite Pulp album.  And that class commentary invites a lot of moments for subtle humor, although I wouldn't qualify this as a comedy.  Still, Altman takes a pretty simple idea and makes it enjoyably complex.

But not enjoyable for everyone

For such a clever work of direction, I was not terribly impressed with the story.  Altman and Balaban come up with the general story, but I found it surprisingly predictable.  Normally, I would be disappointed by that --- I immediately called Ryan Phillipe's secret and figured out Clive Owen's rather quickly --- but there was thankfully an extra twist to keep things interesting.  Still, I was hoping for this movie to take the mystery part a little more seriously.  If it feels like Altman is just using the mystery plot as an excuse to delve into the cultural politics of the British class system pre-World War II, that's because he is.  I really don't mind the subterfuge, but I wish I had gone in knowing that, because I was looking forward to the whodunnit.

I think I appreciate Gosford Park for what it is, but it didn't blow me away.  I didn't see any stellar performances or find myself shocked or appalled by any of the characters.  The plot was decent, but not great.  The commentary, while occasionally funny, was not as sharp as I would have expected, especially given current views on servitude, homosexuality, empowerment, and romance.

1930s view: Scandalous!  2012 view: Where'd his fist go?

What Gosford Park provides is a solid mystery with a good cast, some good performances, and enough light humor to keep for being too depressing.  Given the number of Oscars it got nominated for (it won for its screenplay, which I didn't love!), I was hoping for more.  Maybe this is one of those movies you enjoy more after the initial viewing; having the suspense of the plot out of the way could conceivably make some of the especially subtle humor stand out more, I suppose.  If you have some thoughts on the matter, please leave a comment.  As a first-time viewer, I thought this was pretty good, but not great.

And here's my favorite song about class warfare, from Pulp's Different Class:

The King's Speech

"I'm gonna knock you owwwt!  Queen Momma said knock you owwwt!"

I'm reading a lot of post-Oscar snobbery against The King's Speech's Best Picture win, and I don't get it.  If you haven't heard (or don't care), the criticisms have sounded more or less like this:

Of course The King's Speech beat out The Social Network for Best Picture.  It's a period piece with British accents, while The Social Network is about the most cutting edge technology EVER!  Way to take the conservative choice, Academy!

First of all, let me just say that my best film of the year was Inception, not either of these prestige pictures.  That said, I completely disagree with the negative feedback toward The King's Speech.  Yes, it has British accents, but I don't consider WWII-era England as a "period piece;" aside from some ladies' dresses, they still wear the same suits and hats there today.  Heck, according to British "comedy," men still wear the same dresses today.  As for the technology angle, I would argue that this film shows an example of just how powerful technology (in this case, radio) is.  More importantly, though, this is a movie about friendship and overcoming adversity --- and it's not a huge downer!

Prince Albert (Colin Firth) is second-in-line for the British throne.  His father, Albus Dumbledore King George V (Michael Gambon), a forceful personality, is getting on in years and laments that he will have to pass the crown on to his playboy son, Prince Edward (Guy Pearce).  Edward isn't a bad guy, but he's not prim-and-proper, like royalty should be, and he has a tendency to sleep with married women.  Obviously, it's okay for British noblemen to have sex with married women --- the primae noctis decree was clearly supported in Braveheart --- but you're not supposed to keep a relationship going with them!  That's peasant behavior, man!  It's just as well, though; in these modern times (the 20s and 30s), it is becoming increasingly expected that the King and Princes will give public addresses on that new-fangled radio box.  In another fascinating concession toward popular trends, here is a clip of Edward and Albert (I assume) dancing the Charleston to the music of the times:

Edward is handsome and a good speaker, like his father, but Albert --- well, he's got a bit of a problem.  Albert has a stammer, a stutter, a speech impediment, or whatever you want to call it.  His speeches are punctuated with long, awkward silences that draw attention away from whatever he's supposed to be talking about and embarrass him and everyone listening.  Awkward!

Okay, fine, the man isn't a public speaker.  Neither are most people.  The only problem is that his "job," such as it is, won't let him avoid public speaking.  Tired of seeing her husband humiliated in public and private by his stammering, Albert's wife, Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) decides to approach an unconventional therapist after all the traditional doctors have failed.  This therapist, Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), is a transplanted Australian with some radical ideas --- he wants to be informal with the Prince!  Gasp! --- but he is able to prove his theories relatively quickly.  Unfortunately, George V opts to check out of life's grand hotel a little earlier than was convenient, which makes Edward the king.  Ed's insistence on marrying his lady love (an American multiple divorcee), partying with commoners and generally acting un-kingly alienates Parliament and just about everybody else.  When he is faced with his crown or his woman, Eddie chooses the lady and resigns his post.  That makes Albert the new King of England, and he assumes his new rap name kingly name of George VI.  Soon afterward, Parliament declares war on Germany, and AlbertGeorge VI needs to give the most important public address of his life to an audience that could cover as much as a quarter of the world.  Can Lionel and AlbertGeorge fix his stutter in time?


I have to admit that I really enjoyed this movie.  The acting was great.  Colin Firth, who wastes his talents so frequently on romantic comedies, is wonderful in an understated performance.  I love laughing at people, but I didn't laugh at his stutter even once in this film --- that is quite an accomplishment for this creative team.  His character was very well written, too; it can be difficult to identify with the problems of royalty, but focusing so much on Albert's perception of his duties and the embarrassment that comes with not being able to communicate was endearing to watch.  When Bertie failed, I felt awkward; when he made progress, I felt proud.  That's some damn fine filmmaking, right there.  Geoffrey Rush was also very good.  I picked him as my Best Supporting Actor of 2010 because he did a great job playing a no-bullshit, I'm-right-and-I-know-it type, while simultaneously being the embarrassing father to his sons and being justly afraid of his wife.  It was a well-rounded performance that felt very real.  Helena Bonham Carter was also good as the supportive wife --- definitely a solid supporting performance --- but I would have liked to see her develop a personality of her own, outside of "I'm helping my husband."  The rest of the cast was fine, excluding Timothy Spall, who did a pretty annoying impression of Winston Churchill, and a pretty standard interpretation of a self-important religious guy by Derek Jacobi.  And am I the only one who found it funny that Rush's character is called out for being Australian, but Guy Pearce (another Aussie) was playing a British Prince?  ...maybe it was just me, then.

The direction by Tom Hooper was interesting.  Obviously, with some of the best performances of the year in his movie, Hooper must have done a pretty good job of directing.  It goes beyond the simplicity of a good working relationship with the cattle actors, though.  Hooper was able to hit all the right emotional buttons with this movie, overcoming any resistance from Recession-era America.  The politics of the film was played down and Hooper wisely chose to emphasize a very relatable problem: the fear of public speaking.  It also helps that the glamor of being a Prince is de-emphasized, with many of Albert's efforts being spent on things he did not enjoy.  Most importantly, though, Hooper was able to make the friendship between a King and a commoner seem plausible, warm, and mutual.  A lot of movies make you tear up because something is sad, but it takes a special movie to make you proud of a character.  On a cinematography side-note, I didn't notice the high-vaulted ceilings that are so common in movies about Kings and Queens; instead, I noticed fairly enclosed spaces and hallways.  I don't want to get all artsy on you, but I think Hooper might have subtly been suggesting the pressure on Albert, or at least symbolizing his throat problems.

In the making of this movie, the filmmakers chose an interesting path.  You would think that the story of a King who abdicates his throne for his lady love would be worthy of a movie; heck, even a story about a woman who feels that she is important enough to forfeit a kingdom over could be good viewing.  Other movies might have focused on the politics of England in the years leading up to World War II.  Instead, this movie is about a King with a stutter, a story that doesn't sound interesting at all, and it is far more engaging than those other possibilities could hope to be.

Films that are based on real people often fall into the trap of telling their life's tale, without having an explicit dramatic arc.  Thankfully, this was a movie about overcoming an impediment, and didn't focus on George VI's reign --- Bertie was King when Britain went from a worldwide empire to its modern size.  Surprisingly, the film didn't call out the Royal Family at all.  Helena Bonham Carter's character became the Queen Mother into this millennium, Bertie's daughters eventually became the seemingly eternal Queen Elizabeth II (still on the throne) and the scandal-plagued Princess Margaret.  I really appreciated that this movie doesn't poke you in the eye with its historical impact, or that of its characters.  Avoiding those self-serving odes to history definitely kept the interest on the relationship between King and commoner, and that simplicity is part of what makes this film work.

Is The King's Speech a movie that will floor you with special effects or a powerhouse performance?  No, but that's okay.  It's well-written, -acted, and -directed.  It's pretty low-key, but it is able to make you laugh and tear up.  What more do you want?  It's just a really, really, well-made film.

If you're curious as to what AlbertGeorge sounded like in real life, check out this link.  Firth's final speech is a very good imitation.