8MM

You never can tell which Nicolas Cage is going to show up in his movies.  Will it be the Academy Award-winning actor?  Usually not.  Will it be the dead-eyed action hero?  You've got a decent chance of that, but Vegas odds are always on Nicolas Cage, the ridiculous over-actor.  When you combine those odds with the chances of a post-Batman and Robin Joel Schumacher directing a good movie, you get 8MM.  Of course, Cage and Schumacher could have theoretically teamed up for an over-the-top action romp, full of ridiculous explosions and tough guy dialogue; it wouldn't have been very good, but it would have been watchable.  Instead, this is a movie about snuff films, which are by definition not full of hilarity.

Yeah, that's how I react to Nicolas Cage movies, too.

Tom Welles (Nicolas Cage) is a private detective that specializes in seedy cases in which his photos and research frequently end up as evidence in divorce proceedings.  I bet his wife loves his job.  One day, he gets a call to visit a new widow.  Her late husband left her a vast fortune, but she found something odd in his safe: an 8MM film that depicted a rape culminating in what appears to be murder.  The widow wants Welles to find out whether the murder was real or staged, no matter the cost.  After assuring her that snuff films are just an urban legend, Welles agrees to take the case, expecting to uncover a privately-financed movie with some fancy special effects.  What he finds does not support that theory.  Welles does some boring grunt work and manages to stumble across a missing persons photo that resembles the girl from the movie.  As odds-defying as that it, Welles manages to track down her family, discover evidence in her bedroom that neither her family nor the police found, and learn that she went to Hollywood.  As earth-shaking as that concept may be --- a runaway girl who starred in a porn film went to California?  Gasp! --- Welles quickly realized that he did not know how to dig any deeper into this case without help.  Enter Max California (Joaquin Phoenix).

...and he works in a porn shop?  Chick magnet!

Max is a failed musician and belly shirt aficionado who works the counter in a dingy sex shop.  Welles hires Max to help him enter the pornography underworld and the two begin to piece together who could have made a snuff film and who would have acted in it.  Hint: if you see a recognizable actor being questioned by Nicolas Cage in this movie, he's probably involved in the snuff film.

I'd be sweating bullets, too, if this was the best role I could get.

The acting in 8MM is definitely not for fans of subtlety.  Nicolas Cage spends a lot of time grimacing and looking tired.  I don't blame him.  His character had to watch hours and hours of low-budget weird porn before he found enough clues to track down the killers.  Joaquin Phoenix was a little better, but that's just by comparison, and his character's costumes were pretty ridiculous.  I'm not saying that people in California don't wear baggy leather pants every day with their proto-Ed Hardy T-shirts, but there isn't a scene in this movie where I don't want to smack Phoenix just on general principles.  James Gandolfini was fine as a low-life porn producer and Peter Stormare was his typically slimy self as a high-end low-life porn producer, but this is a film that relied heavily on Cage and Phoenix.

Creepy: a new fragrance by Peter Stormare

There are a few other actors in small roles, but none of them have any great impact on the quality of the film.  Anthony Heald is unsympathetic (surprise, surprise), Catherine Keener is kind of bitchy, Norman Reedus is a loser with a bad haircut, and Chris Bauer wears a gimp outfit.  It is worth noting that Bauer's character, The Machine, has occasionally popped up in the sports world.  San Francisco Giants closer --- and professional sports' most entertaining personality, since the retirement of Shaquille O'Neal --- Brian Wilson is apparently a fan.  You can spot Chris "The Machine" Bauer's likeness at around the 4:20 mark.


So...that's kind of weird.  Anyway...

There's really not much that goes right with 8MM.  Director Joel Schumacher placed himself in a tough spot.  The obvious trapping that comes with making a movie about snuff films is that the movie winds up being as exploitative as the snuff films themselves.  I will give Schumacher credit for not falling into that trap.  However, to avoid seeming exploitative, I think 8MM loses its teeth. 

If this isn't a movie that is meant to shock you, then what is it?  A ludicrously tangled mystery?  An expose on pornography's seedy underbelly?  An argument for the banality of evil?  You could choose any of those, but none make this a satisfying movie.  The mystery is too easily untangled, possibly because the mystery focused on "Who made this snuff film?" instead of "Why was this snuff film made?"  The dark side of porn is a potentially disturbing focus, but 8MM just has Cage wander through a couple creepy basement VHS flea markets; nothing is really said or done about anything but this one particular snuff film.  Perhaps sensing that this movie is neither shocking nor captivating, Schumacher changes the tone of the film, transforming Cage from an investigator to an avenger in the final act.  It is here that the bad guys explain themselves, and that explanation --- which is meant to be chilling --- is simply underwhelming.

Less sensual than it looks.

Personally, I can't think of a story that involved snuff films that I would have enjoyed.  Maybe that's just me, though.  I assumed that 8MM would try to be disturbing and maybe take a stand on the issue (murder is bad, perhaps?).  It doesn't.  It's a detective story where the audience is only allowed to see snippets of what Nic Cage is reacting to; that means that Cage's acting needs to convey our disgust for us, and he turns in a very melodramatic performance that undermines that notion.  I'm not saying that I need to see the damn titular movie --- not seeing a prized object can work wonders, as in The Maltese Falcon and Pulp Fiction.  The script and the acting weren't anywhere near where they needed to be to pull that off, though.  Hell, Cage's character lost his private detective credibility in the beginning of the film, when he hides his smoking habit from his wife by spraying air freshener, just like a fifteen year-old.  Hint: change your clothes and hide your ashtrays, too, dumbass.  If he can't do that convincingly, how is the audience supposed to buy into anything else he does in this film?

This movie just plain sucks.  There is nothing quite like a film that is trying to be edgy and watching it fail.  I would have enjoyed laughing at 8MM, but it is a joyless train wreck that is at least thirty minutes too long.  Nicolas Cage does a poor job acting, which is not terribly surprising, and he appears to have no fun doing it.  His character is stupid and without charm.  The script is surprisingly dull and the supporting cast is mostly unmemorable.  This is a surprisingly bad movie with a surprisingly bad story, and I went in with low expectations.  The only redeeming quality this film has --- aside from a surprising second life in sports interviews --- is that it was too draining and incompetent to earn my hatred.

Brian's Best of 2010

Why is this Best of 2010 list being posted at the end of February 2011?  If the Academy Awards can wait until then, so can I.

Of course, I don't follow the same rules as the Academy and I don't watch all of the same movies.  I'm going to give you my Top 10 and Worst 5 movies of the year, the best and worst actors and actresses, as well as best director, bit part and biggest surprise and disappointment.  I should point out that, at the time of this post, I have not seen The Fighter, 127 Hours, Machete, or Piranha (2010), so you might notice a discrepancy between my lists and most critical listings.  For a complete list of the 2010 films that were considered in my 2010 wrap-up, check my review index; I will have reviews for Black Swan, The Social Network, Toy Story 3 and The King's Speech later this week.

Let's begin with the bottom of the barrel...
Worst Actor: Joaquin Phoenix in I'm Still Here.  The movie was awful, and all it did was follow him around being awful.

Word!

Dishonorable mention goes to Channing Tatum in Dear John, mostly for his godawful monologue about coins.

Worst Actress: Amanda Seyfried in Dear John.  I'm just tired of her stupid face.

Why does she have a belly bra?

Dishonorable mention goes to Tiffany in Mega Piranha, but only because she actually looked like she was trying to act in that awesomely bad crap-fest.

Biggest Disappointment: It had to be Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland.  It wasn't bad, and it was visually spectacular, but I expected more from Burton and Johnny Depp.  This was their chance to get really, really inventively weird, and they half-assed the story.  Even the spectacular special effects would have been more impressive if they were a little more bizarre.  The last thing I expected to feel after watching this movie was indifference, but that's what I got.

Worst Five Movies
5. A Nightmare on Elm Street - Yeah, I know remakes suck.  Yeah, I know that the people who brought me the Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake produced this, too, but it managed to get Freddy Kreuger exactly wrong.  He's not scary because he's a killer, he's scary because he's in your dreams.  This also has one of the lamest "twists" I've seen in a while.

You know it's bad when the NES version is scarier than the 2010 movie.

4. Leap Year - Romantic comedies are terrible.  Case in point.  Amy Adams is generally adorable, but not when her character is obnoxious.
3. Unthinkable - There's nothing like bringing up a controversial issue, not arguing both sides equally and still not taking sides by the end.  This movie is my all-time winner for ending a film before key plot points get resolved.  If you thought The French Connection ends abruptly, this conclusion will blow your mind.
2. Dear John - Manipulative drivel with awful acting.  I hate you so much, Nicholas Sparks.  But hey, at least he made the point that autism is not the same thing as mental retardation.  Consider me schooled.
1. I'm Still Here - Self-indulgent tripe of no value.  By far, the most painful viewing experience of the year.  When the highlight of your movie has somebody pooping on the star, you know you've hit rock bottom.

Okay, that gets some of the bile out of the way.  Now on to the fun stuff!

Best Bit Part: This award absolutely had to go to someone from Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, because the movie was chock full of great minor roles.  I'm going to give it to Chris Evans for two reasons.  First, the posters for his fictional movie roles were amazing.  Second, I loved his response to someone saying they're a fan: "Why wouldn't you be?"  That was great.

Best Supporting Actress: Chloe Moretz in Kick-Ass, primarily because her character was awesome, but also because her fight with Mark Strong was the only time the movie's gratuitous violence disturbed me.

Best Supporting Actor: Geoffrey Rush in The King's Speech.  I'm a huge fan of Rush in supporting roles, and this is some of his best work in years.  Silly and touching at the same time, his performance was the perfect compliment to Colin Firth's.
This is my favorite category because there are so many great small but memorable roles every year.  Honorable mentions goes to Eddie Marsan in The Disappearance of Alice Creed for the purity of his performance in a crime movie.  It wasn't terribly complex, but it was very well executed.

Mrsan may look like a hobbit here, but he was scary in Alice Creed.

John Hawkes deserves some recognition for his work in Winter's Bone, too --- he has the most character development I have seen in any supporting character this year.


Best Actress: Jennifer Lawrence in Winter's Bone.  She was just terrific.  Sure, the character was pretty good, being all tough and determined and whatnot, but Lawrence gave her redneck character real dignity.  That is no small task.
Honorable mention goes to Hailee Steinfeld in True Grit.  I realize that she received Supporting Actress nods (probably because teenage girls don't win Best Actress anythings), but hers was definitely a co-starring role, and she deserves the credit for her work.

Best Actor: I didn't have a clear-cut favorite in this category this year until I watched a marathon of Oscar-nominated films this weekend.  Now, it seems pretty obvious that Colin Firth deserves to be considered the year's best actor for The King's Speech.  I'm not a huge Firth fan, but he managed to make me care about the personal problems of a foreign royal, and I didn't laugh at his stutter once in the whole movie.  And I'm a jerk, so that's doubly impressive.

"You want me to sing into this tin can?": NOT a British remake of O Brother Where Art Thou?

Honorable mentions go to Michael Cera, for his stunningly perfect work in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, and Jesse Eisenberg, for his fast-talking asshole performance in The Social Network.

Best Director: Christopher Nolan for Inception.  The movie was smart, visually fabulous, well-told, and well-acted.  Nolan is responsible for all of that greatness, so he wins.
Honorable mentions go to Martin Scorcese, for his beautifully directed (but a tad predictable) Shutter Island, Edgar Wright for making THE GREATEST comic book adaptation ever (Scott Pilgrim vs. the World), and Tom Hooper for directing the Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor performances in The King's Speech.

Top Ten Movies

10. The Crazies: For my money, this is the smartest, most well-crafted horror movie of the year.  It's not Oscar-worthy, but the main characters seem reasonable and don't act stupidly.  That might sound a little simple, but it makes a potentially fun horror-watching experience into a thrilling one.
9. The Expendables: Old men make boom punch pow.  Violence good.

Fashion by Stallone.

8. Iron Man 2: It wasn't as deep as the first movie, but I love me a good sequel and IM2 delivered.  Well-directed, -paced, and -acted, this is a sequel that had only a few moments of Sequel Stupidity.  Thankfully, it balanced those moments out with Sam Rockwell being obnoxious and dudes fighting other dudes in robotic (you might even say iron) suits.  I don't know about you, but I got what I paid to see.

I can't believe they replaced Terrence Howard with that guy.

7. The Social Network: It's hard not to love a whole movie full of fast-paced witty dialogue, and it was a pleasure seeing Jesse Eisenberg step out of Michael Cera's shadow with this film.  Good performances and great dialogue --- I just wish the real Mark Zuckerberg was anywhere near this cool.
6. Kick-Ass: It answers the question of why there aren't superheroes in the real world --- because they would get ass-kicked on day one.  It's not a deep movie, but it is fun and violent.  As an added treat, Nicolas Cage doesn't ruin the film.  What are the odds?
5. Toy Story 3: Just because it makes you cry doesn't make it sad.  One of the most touching dramas about family and growing up you can see.  This is probably the best artistic statement of the year, even if it's not my favorite movie.  Pixar is the Alan Moore of animation.
4. True Grit: Certainly one of the best remakes of all time and a return to gorgeous filmmaking and quirky supporting roles for the Coen Brothers.  It doesn't quite shake off reminders of the original, but it certainly offers another argument for the importance of the Western in modern filmmaking.
3. The King's Speech: Impressive performances make this potentially boring subject matter thoroughly entertaining and emotional.  It's just really, really good.
2. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: This movie was an 8-bit love song, aimed directly at my heart.  Goofy, stupid, fast, and video gamer-friendly, this movie was perfect for what it is --- a movie about comic books and video games that is as much fun as reading comic books and playing video games.

Actors holding original comic art of their characters is pretty sweet.

1. Inception: Don't ask questions about the ending.  Just smile and laugh.  The always interesting Christopher Nolan crafted his masterpiece here.  The acting is very good, with many actors doing a lot of little things well; the plot is labyrinthine to explain, but understandable when you see it; the visual effects are unique and awe-inspiring.  This is a film that dreamed big and achieved everything it reached for.  It is absolutely the most impressive film I have seen all year.

I'm Still Here

In early 2009, while promoting the film Two Lovers, two-time Academy Award nominee Joaquin Phoenix made an infamous appearance on The Late Show with David Letterman:

As you can see, he appeared disheveled, confused, and probably (to use the clinical term) stoned out of his gourd.  For most of the American public, this was the first look they had of the "new" Joaquin Phoenix --- no longer an actor, but apparently an aspiring hip-hop artist/advocate of not bathing.

What we saw on Letterman was also the climax of the documentary that Phoenix's brother-in-law, Casey Affleck, was filming about Joaquin's retirement from acting and his "budding" rap career.  I'm Still Here starts in late-2008, with Joaquin declaring his retirement to a random TV journalist at a press event.  Over the next three or four months, the cameras follow him as Joaquin tries to articulate just why he doesn't want to act anymore.  It has something to do with too much time spent on preparation and direction, and not enough time spent being creative.  Okay, that's a fair critique of professional acting, I guess.  Of course, I paraphrased JP's (as he wants people to call him) f-bomb littered ramblings.  I believe his exact words were, "mumble mumble mumble shit."  If you like incoherent mumbling, though, this movie is a gold mine.  The majority of the film follows JP as he complains about being taken seriously and all the phoniness of celebrity life; some time is spent as he tries desperately to get Sean "Diddy" Combs to listen to (and produce) his album, but that is just a symptom of his disgust with whatever it is he's trying to get away from.  Unfortunately, JP is a terrible, terrible rapper.  Worse than Macho Man Randy Savage.  And it's obvious.  He has no hope of a rap career, and he burns his bridges in the film community.  What else does a downward spiral need?  Narcissism, sex and drugs?  Check, check, and check.  Aside from the constant smoking of what appears to be pot and the frequent snorting of what appears to be cocaine, viewers get to see (well, I don't know if "get to" is the right phrase; it's not like this is a prize) JP order some hookers and abuse his closest friends for his own mistakes.  The Letterman appearance is the climax of the film, but there is plenty of falling action afterward, as JP has to figure out his next step.

As a documentary, I'm Still Here is a complete mess.  Affleck's direction is awful, the camera work is terrible, and the sound sucks.  Aside from the pretentious inclusion of an old home video to serve as a bookend to the film, it doesn't really go anywhere or have anything to say.  You would think that this was documenting the fall of Joaquin Phoenix, but it's not; he was already at the bottom when this started filming, his hobo beard just hadn't grown in yet.  JP is completely unlikable throughout, and everything he says sounds like art school bullshit.  You would hear less whining if you went to a Goth convention.  The most likable people in the whole film are the two who are the meanest to Joaquin.  Diddy gave him some pretty kind advice on his music, but scoffed at the idea of them working together, while his buddy/assistant Anton eventually tired of JP's abuse and literally crapped on his head.  But even that slight amusement is not nearly enough to make this documentary worth seeing.


Of course, this isn't a documentary.  Aside from the fact that Joaquin Phoenix and Casey Affleck received writing credits for the film, some cast members did not star as themselves, the cameras and sound are rolling at all hours of the day (even after JP is asleep) and...well, I'm sorry, but this movie is just beyond any suspension of disbelief.  There is no way in hell that Affleck's wife, Joaquin's sister, would have let him release this movie; well, not if he wanted to stay married, anyway.  There is zero chance that professional escorts would allow themselves to be filmed (with a cameraman and sound guy) screwing around with movie stars.  And I find it hard to believe that any documentary about hip-hop would include this much gratuitous penis on camera.  After the movie was released in theaters this fall, everyone involved admitted that the film was a hoax.  Gasp.  I'm crushed.

Here's the problem: even when you know that this film is a joke (and, trust me, you know within minutes of its start), it's still not funny.  The best mockumentaries (This is Spinal Tap, Borat, Best in Show, etc.) are funny because they are, in some ways, spot-on with their interpretations of what the public assumes their characters are like (rock stars, foreigners, dog people).  But then, they surprise us with totally left-field personality traits, or so-dumb-it-has-to-be-true moments (lost behind the stage, outrageous racism, Fred Willard).  I'm Still Here doesn't make any jokes, aside from the prolonged joke of JP's rapping career.  This movie is ridiculous, but it's never funny.  That is very, very frustrating.  So, what is this mockumentary mocking?  I assume that it's supposed to be poking fun at our culture's obsession with celebrities and/or reality television.  It doesn't really matter, since this film completely fails in either respect.

This was a very upsetting film.  I don't usually look at someone defecating on the star of a film as the high point in the movie, but that is the situation I find myself in; worse, my immediate reaction was "now, hit him in the face with a shovel!"  It's difficult for me to articulate just how much I despise this film.  It's pretentious on the surface (everything that comes out of JP's mouth), and it's pretentious as a finished product ("It doesn't suck, you just don't get it...").  This is a movie that feels like it wants to say something important, aside from "gotcha!" but never even tries.  Have you ever gone on a date with someone and realized that everything they laugh at, you hate?  That's how this movie makes me feel.  There is nothing funny about this movie, there is nothing true in this movie...in fact, there is nothing redeeming in this movie at all.  "But what about the penises and the pooping?"  There's a wide world of porn out there for anyone interested in those things, and I can guarantee that the production quality would be better than this film.  Utterly worthless.

As a mini-tribute to David Letterman, here's my list of ten awful things that would have made this movie better:

• All of Joaquin's friends go to a costume party with him, and they all dressed as his dead brother, River.
• Have M. Night Shyamalan throw water on Joaquin, making him melt.  That's why he hasn't washed his hair in months!  He's one of the aliens from Signs!
• Forty minutes of dead baby jokes.
• Complementary picked koala paste with purchase of the DVD.
• The cast of Twilight made a commentary track where they explain particle physics.
• Thunderbird bum wine.
• Having Casey Affleck wake up and realize it was all a dream.  And then realize that he's in bed next to Bob Newhart.  And their home is inside the snow globe of an autistic child.
• Getting stuck in an elevator during a blackout after you've taken a pound of horse laxatives.  And there are eight other people in the elevator with you.
• In the ultimate act of defiance against the culture of beauty in Hollywood, Joaquin tears his lip open because his cleft lip was "real" and Hollywood is fake.
• A tornado hits Joaquin Phoenix's home, decimating the crew and scattering various bodies through walls, trees, and pavement.  As the movie fades to black, you hear "Why did we waste the last days of our life making something so awful...?!?"

Hotel Rwanda

I borrowed this DVD from a friend when the movie first came out, intent on watching Don Cheadle's acclaimed performance.  I never got around to it.  I always looked at the film as inevitably depressing, and I didn't know much about the Rwandan genocide of 1994, and I always feel sketchy if I let a movie educate me on world events.  In the intervening years, I've educated myself to a point where, when I saw the movie available On Demand through my cable, I finally felt I was ready to watch it.

The movie takes place during the genocide, but thankfully is not a document of the killings.  Instead, it tells the tale of Paul (Don Cheadle), a manager for the finest hotel around.  Paul is very talented at using words to get what he wants; when that fails, bribery usually does the trick.  This serves him well as manager, allowing him to get his hands on high end cigars, liquor, and more.  These treats are not for him, but to gain favor with local politicians, international military leaders, and anyone else.  It's a good thing he is good at his job, because ethnic tensions in Rwanda reach their boiling point, with paramilitary groups of the Hutu ethnic majority gathering and executing any of the Tutsi minority they can find.  Paul is Hutu, but his wife (Sophie Okonedo) is Tutsi.  Seeing his neighborhood quickly becoming a war zone, Paul manages to sneak and bribe his family's way into the hotel.  There, he tries to keep things business-as-usual.  It doesn't really work.  First of all, a war was going on, just outside the hotel.  Secondly, it's the old any-port-in-a-storm rule.  The hotel quickly acts as a shelter for overflow from the United Nations camps, the Red Cross, and for war orphans.  Why don't the Hutu militias just attack the hotel?  Good question.  The answer seems to be because Paul maintains the image of a professional European hotel; it feels like another country, or at least an embassy.  That means that, if the locals attack, there could possibly be some retaliation from the Western world.  Seeing the importance of maintaining this image, Paul must keep the hotel running for appearances' sake, care for the refugees, and act as the support for his own family.  For a while, Paul has his hopes set on the United Nations sending in a peacekeeping force to stop the massacre, but that never happens.  The burden for saving the 1200+ refugees in his hotel ultimately falls on Paul's shoulders.

This is an important movie to watch.  Hearing the abstract numbers (about 800,000 dead in an area about the size of a New England state) doesn't really sink in.  Seeing people being shot in the streets is more effective.  Showing trucks drive over miles of road, clogged with dead bodies is better still.  This movie doesn't set out to over-horrify you, which is good.  This is an exhausting viewing experience, and I say that in the best way possible; at the time of this genocide, Americans were either upset over Kurt Cobain's suicide, or fascinated by OJ Simpson's car chase in a white Ford Bronco.  Sure, those are obviously important things, but I have no recollection of Rwanda from school or news at that time, and that embarrasses me.  Still, this could have easily become a testament to the horrific things humans do to each other, but director and co-writer Terry George wisely chose to avoid making this movie an unwatchable guilt trip.  Instead, we have these terrible things framing a true story of heroic humanitarianism.

I was surprised that this movie did not show off the director or cinematographer's skills more.  Usually, when directors make an "important" movie, they make sure to show their skills or make things a little artsy.  This movie is shot in a straightforward fashion, with no artistic embellishments.

The film clearly focuses on Cheadle's character, but there are several recognizable actors with supporting roles.  Nick Nolte plays a Canadian UN military forces member, and he delivers the best white-versus-black speech I have heard in a long while.  Joaquin Phoenix is a news cameraman that asks many questions about the Hutu and the Tutsi for the benefits of the viewers; since his character is essentially there for exposition, his role is less impressive.  Jean Reno makes a brief, uncredited cameo just for recognition purposes.  Cara Seymour is the Red Cross worker that helps Paul save refugees; she's not in the movie much, but I thought she did a pretty good job.  Sophie Okonedo plays Paul's wife, and it is a demanding performance; she basically spends the whole movie terrified.

As I mentioned earlier, though, the real acting burden belongs to Don Cheadle.  It's rare to see a movie about death and destruction where the hero is not a man of action.  There are several points where Cheadle's character reaches a breaking point, and you watch him crumble in private, only to put himself back together in front of others.  It's fairly common for a low-key drama to have a nuanced grieving performance given by the lead actor or actress; this movie is not low-key, but Cheadle is still able to channel that same sort of private, subtle performance here.  There are two great scenes in particular that show this off.  The first is when he tells his wife to kill herself and their kids if the hotel is invaded; this could have easily been overacted, but his control here made his loss of control later all the more effective.  The second scene is just Cheadle cleaning himself up after unwittingly stumbling upon thousands of fresh corpses.  Cheadle has always been pretty good, but this role really showed what he is capable of.

Despite Cheadle's performance, this isn't a movie I will ever watch over and over again.  That's probably not the point of this movie, I get that, but it should be a little better.  Joaquin Phoenix's character is a little too guilt-ridden and a little too clueless to not be offensive.  I understand that Americans don't know what Hutus and Tutsis are; I think a short prologue would have worked better than having a stupid American make obvious comments about how he can't tell the difference between the two groups (there's a racist joke there, but I'm passing it by).  I think it's funny that Nick Nolte's character expressed his guilt more creatively and accurately (basically, the West sees Africa as a crap pile) as a Canadian than Phoenix's American could.  I also would have enjoyed a little more time spent adding symbolism and the like to make this a little more technically interesting.  I'm not saying the movie needed a Schindler's List red jacket, but a few little touches would have been nice.  Other than that, though, this is an interesting subject with one excellent performance.