Showing posts with label Timothy Spall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Timothy Spall. Show all posts

Thursday, March 3, 2011

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.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Alice In Wonderland (2010)

Tim Burton is one of my favorite directors, because he makes odd little films that somehow manage to become big hits.  I tend to prefer his more intimate work (Edward Scissorhands, Ed Wood, Big Fish) over his obvious blockbusters (Batman, Planet of the Apes), but I always find his work interesting.  When you add my favorite actor and Burton collaborator, Johnny Depp, to the mix, you definitely have my attention.  Add those two oddballs to the fictional world of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, and you have a guaranteed formula for weirdness.

It should be pointed out that, despite the title, this actually isn't an adaptation or re-imagining of the source material, or even of the Disney animated classic.  Instead, it serves as a sequel of sorts.  This time around, Alice (Mia Wasikowska) is a teenager instead of a child.  Like all Wonderland stories, this one begins in the real world.  Alice is attending a party when she fields an unexpected (and unwanted) proposal for marriage; she is at the marrying age for Victorian England, and the match is sensible and proper.  And, in typical Tim Burton style, "sensible and proper" seem positively horrid, with madness being a preferable alternative.  Almost as if she is signaling for a rodeo clown to distract the bull away from her, Alice notices a white rabbit wearing a waistcoat.  Since her options are follow the rabbit or definitively choose a life path, the nineteen year-old Alice opts to follow the rabbit.  From here, things begin to get a little deja vu; Alice visits all the same places and meets all the same characters that she did in the original stories --- she eats stuff and grows/shrinks, she chases the White Rabbit (voiced by Michael Sheen), she goes to the Mad Hatter's (Johnny Depp) tea party, and gets confused by the Cheshire Cat (voiced by Stephen Fry) and the Caterpillar (voiced by Alan Rickman).  Alice seems to be going through these experiences for the first time, but something seems...different about everything.  The only clue we have that this is a new tale is the fact that all the the inhabitants of Underland (not Wonderland) remember an Alice from years ago.  It has even been prophesied that Alice will be the one to kill the Red Queen's (Helena Bonham Carter) fearsome dragon, the Jabberwocky (voiced by Christopher Lee).  Alice is supposed to kill a creature of Wonderland?  Well, that's different.  And, as this film insists, this really isn't Wonderland, but Underland.  What's the difference?  While both are filled with imaginative landscapes and characters, Underland is the nightmarish twin to the world of Wonderland; apparently, things were once shiny and happy, when the White Queen (Anne Hathaway) ruled, but things have gotten darker and more serious under the Red Queen's reign.  But is this Alice the Alice of the prophesy?  Or is this all something else, something darker?

Not too long ago, I read Lewis Carroll's works for the first time.  Frankly, I was underwhelmed.  I will admit to an unusual joy of language present in these stories, and some pretty interesting imagery, but I wasn't impressed on the whole.  In all honesty, I think that these stories are excellent launching points for adventures, but I am happy to see that most adaptations to the stories aren't slavishly devoted to the source material.  Obviously, then, I have no problem with Burton's Underland.  I do have a problem with the title, though.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I think that film titles are important indicators of the film's content; if I pop in a DVD titled Bambi, it had better be an animated deer story, and not a live-action bestiality flick.  Titling this Alice in Wonderland seems disingenuous to me, because the films goes to great lengths to differentiate itself from previous movie incarnations and the source material.  Alice in Underland would have been more appropriate, I think, and still drawn the connection to Wonderland.

The first thing that struck me about this film was its appearance.  Visually, this is a fantastic piece of moviemaking.  The environment, even though it is almost a post-apocalyptic version of Wonderland, is still full of color and detail.  The character designs were astounding, so different from the classic versions of the characters, and yet they all had something iconic that made them seem somehow familiar.  The use of CGI in the film was some of the best I have seen utilized in any motion picture.  Obviously, the environment was largely CGI, but most of the characters had something altered in post-production, some in subtle ways; Crispin Glover, who plays the Red Knave, had everything except his head replaced by CGI.  Tim Burton has always been a visual filmmaker, but this was really a step above anything else I've seen of his.

This film was chock full of recognizable actors, each of whom did a good job.  Many of them stuck to the classic interpretation of their characters, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.  Matt Lucas (Tweedledee and Tweedledum), Michael Sheen, Stephen Fry, and Alan Rickman were the principal actors who followed that practice.  There were several bit parts where I recognized the actor, but not the character.  Timothy Spall played a bloodhound, Michael Gough voiced a dodo bird, Crispin Glover was awkward as ever as the Knave, and Imelda Staunton was one of the talking flowers --- none of these were huge roles, but I found it interesting that such small parts were played by actors I have seen in so many other films.

Now let's talk about the departures from the norm.  For starters, Paul Whitehouse's March Hare had a dangerous edge to him that bordered on sociopathic.  While Christopher Lee's lines as the Jabberwocky fell in line with Carroll's poem, I'm not so sure about the use of this character as a fearsome enemy.  Anne Hathaway was okay as the White Queen, showing a few hints at bizarre character traits, but I don't think she had enough screen time to develop her character much.  Helena Bonham Carter had more screen time, but most of it was spent emphasizing how odd her character was and was, I think, supposed to generate more laughs than I gave it.  I felt that Mia Wasikowska did a pretty good job as Alice, making her one of the stronger heroines I've seen in a children's movie; I'm not entirely convinced that her "roll with the weirdness" attitude was the right one for a character entering Underland, but it was a choice and she stuck to it.  And then there's Johnny Depp.  The Mad Hatter isn't a character that is usually given depth, but here he has a back story and plays a critical role in the film.  To do that, Burton and Depp had to change the character significantly, and not just cosmetically (although his CGI/makeup was some of the most interesting in the film); this Hatter seems to have almost a split personality, with the harmless goofball character that is well known and a Scottish (I think) warrior character that is brand new.  I think Depp captured the mercurial nature of his character well, but his character is one of the aspects of this film that I found disappointing.

I have heard that Alice in Wonderland is not so much a children's story, so much as it is an acid trip told in nonsense rhymes.  Yes, this is a story that is typically aimed at children, and yes, this story does has some surreal nightmare qualities to it.  I think that balance lends itself nicely to Tim Burton's guiding hand; much of his work appears dark, but has a childlike quality at its core.  On the surface, this is a can't-miss concept.  In practice, though, all the visual effects in the world can't disguise the fact that the story in Alice in Wonderland is lacking.  There isn't a strong narrative, which shouldn't be a problem, since this is a story that should be about the wonders of this Underland.  But the whole movie builds toward a final battle that fails to do anything imaginative and ends up as a surprisingly dull action sequence.  Because this movie has that climax and they foreshadow it from the beginning, the rest of the story feels like an unstructured jumble that rambles on without much purpose.  Personally, I would have preferred a story where there was more rambling and a less typical climax.

With that story structure in place, though, Alice must be given motivation for trying to thwart the Red Queen's rule.  Since Alice is a stranger, that motivation has to come from the supporting cast, which ends up being the most prominent Underland inhabitant, The Mad Hatter.  I love me some Johnny Depp, and he is occasionally very charming in this role, but the militant edge to his character is left largely unexplained and his shifts into that persona are abrupt and unexplained.  This could have been circumvented if Alice had a personal stake in Underland, but she does not, and remains fairly dispassionate about the bizarre events surrounding her.

This movie just feels like ninety percent of the creative process focused on how the film would look, and maybe ten percent was spent on the story itself.  There are so many pieces of this film that work.  I liked all the voice acting and I didn't see a poor performance in the whole film.  I don't particularly like Depp or Mia Wasikowska's characters, but I think they both played their parts well.  There are all sorts of high concept issues brought up in this film (Colonialism, feminism, etc.), but I was happy to see these topics left without any explicit conclusions.  And let's not forget just how gorgeous this movie is.  Just looking at promotional posters for this movie makes me want to watch it again.  No, that's not right...they make me want my own production stills, framed and mounted on my wall.  I really liked a lot about this movie.  I just didn't like...well, the movie part of it.  With such a surprisingly limp emotional core, I was left unsatisfied with the film and extremely disappointed in Johnny Depp and Tim Burton.  The gorgeous peculiarity that is Alice in Wonderland is certainly worth viewing, but the story is inconsequential at best. 

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Quick, name your favorite third installment of a film franchise.  Yeah...it takes a little bit of thought, doesn't it?  Aside from Die Hard With a Vengeance and Army of Darkness, is there a great third movie in a series?  If you can think of another great #3, leave it in the comments (I can think of two others).  These movies usually end up putting the lid on the franchise coffin, instead of improving upon the established formula.  After two successful (but similar) movies about magical children, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban changes the tone a bit and delves into darker territory, with a tale about betrayal and murder.  That sounds about right for a family film, doesn't it?

Like the last two films, Azkaban covers an entire school year for Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) and his friends, Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson).  Also like the last two films, the plot is split between the ongoing struggle between Harry and the forces of evil wizard extraordinaire, Lord Voldemort, and Harry's smaller-scale problems at school.  As Harry prepares to return to Hogwart's wizard boarding school, he notices wanted posters for a man named Sirius Black (Gary Oldman) everywhere he looks.  Black, a disciple of Voldemort, had just broken out of the super-secure wizard gulag, Azkaban; this is a big deal for the wizarding world because Black was the first-ever escapee of the prison and also because his crimes were especially heinous.  Not only did he blow up a fellow wizard, Peter Pettigrew (Timothy Spall), with only a finger escaping total incineration, but Sirius Black was the man who led Voldemort to Harry Potter's parents on the night they were murdered.  Out of prison, it just makes sense that his first move would be to kill Harry for his master.  When Harry learns Black's history, he welcomes the fight and declares his intention to kill Black.  Apparently, having evil wizards try to kill you every year can make thirteen-year-olds get a little aggressive.

The other plot line follows Harry's progressive immersion in the world of magic.  As a side effect of Black's escape, Azkaban guards (called Dementors) arrive, looking for Black.  Dementors are not people, but soul-sucking monsters that find Harry a particularly tasty morsel.  Harry takes lessons on how to deflect these creatures from his new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin (David Thewlis).  Like Harry's last two DADA teachers (villains in the last two films), Lupin has a secret that plays a part in the film's climax.  Also playing a part is the school groundskeeper, Hagrid (Robbie Coltrane), who earned a promotion to teacher.  He introduced a hippogriff (a magical half-horse and half-eagle creature) to some students and, despite it being very friendly to Harry, it injured a student, perennial Potter bully Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton).  As such, the animal receives an execution date.  I wonder...will these seemingly dissimilar plots ever coalesce in time for the film's end?

At the time of its publication, the book, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, was the longest in the series.  Since the last two films went over two hours to cover everything in the books, it became necessary to cut the novel into something more digestible in movie form.  As such, Azkaban is the first Harry Potter film to take liberties with the source text.  That's great news for someone like me, who liked the first two films, but felt that they could have done more to adapt to the film genre.  That means that this film is more plot-driven that the others.  The other big change is Alfonso Cuaron's assumption of the director's role; aside from making a very good cutting of the story (in my opinion) for the screenplay, Cuaron played with the film's color palette, opting for more blues and a general washed-out feel, which I thought matched the story's being-hunted-by-a-murderer plot.  The DVD special features also point out an instance of Cuaron's dealings with his teenage cast; he asked the three main actors to write an essay about their characters, and the responses he got were surprisingly in-line with the work the characters themselves would have done: Watson wrote a fifteen-page paper, Radcliffe wrote a few pages, and Grint didn't do his homework.  Well, I laughed, anyway.

The acting in this film is a marked improvement over The Chamber of Secrets.  Daniel Radcliffe not only looked the part, with the most Harry Potter-ish hair of any of the movies, but his casual acting skills showed a lot of growth.  He doesn't quite nail every emotion (anger seems a little out of his grasp), but it's still a big step.  Emma Watson is, once again, the most natural actor of the three, but this movie gives her less screen time and, thus, less to do.  Rupert Grint manages to make ugly faces whenever he's supposed to be frightened, which is often.  I wasn't terribly impressed with David Thewlis' Lupin, but that has more to do with the CGI used on his character and my own impression of the character from the book than any particular shortcoming in his performance; I thought he would be more...raggedy, I guess.  And I'm still not certain why his CGI-aided moments went with such a lanky character design instead of the more traditional bulk.  Gary Oldman, one of the great actors of the 90s, took this role to make some money, but his performance is still pretty good; I loved the design for his character, from the hair and tattoos to his emaciated body.  Much of Oldman's presence in the film comes from wanted posters, but they are pretty awesome, just the same.  Tom Felton's turn as Draco is far less sinister than in previous movies; here he is used as comic relief instead of a legitimate rival to Harry.  Michael Gambon replaced Richard Harris as Hogwarts headmaster Dumbledore, and his performance had the subtle mischief I felt was lacking in Harris' performances.  Emma Thompson and Timothy Spall make their Potter debuts here in limited performances and cast staples Maggie Smith, Alan Rickman, and Robbie Coltrane all do fine work in their small supporting roles.

Personally, I think this third installment surpasses the first two Harry Potters easily.  The acting is better, the pace of the film is better, and several details are glossed over in favor of a more seamless narrative.  Not only were the individual acting performances better than in previous films, but I think the more casual scenes showing the kids goofing off and having fun felt natural an unforced, which was a huge departure from the I'm-waiting-for-you-to-stop-talking-so-I-can-deliver-my-lines performances from the last film.  This movie also helped build the budding romance between Hermione and Ron a bit, something the other films left on the cutting room floor.

Not every choice was well made, though.  The Jamaican shrunken head in the early stages of the film was just obnoxious, for starters.  There were a few instances where the token black student at Hogwarts makes some reference to Black (as in Sirius) being up to no good, or how he could be anywhere, or whatever --- I'm not a racist, but unintentional racism makes me giggle.  I mean, really?  You couldn't find any other actor to make negative comments about "Black"?  Those aren't major complaints, though.  The one thing holding this movie back is the source material.  There is a plot element that is revealed in the final third of the movie (to be fair, it is foreshadowed) that essentially acts as a deus ex machina.  As such, the final third of the movie can seem somewhat contrived, but that is what the book offered, so I guess the filmmakers were kind of stuck.  Still, even with the contrived ending, this is the best of the bunch so far.