Friday, August 19, 2005
Closer - Looks like a film, but it isn't
What a pretentious movie this is; and how overrated. Based on a play that apparently knew great success on the US stage, the story pretends to be a merciless exploration to the sexual and emotional turmoils of two couples whose lives - and body limbs - intertwine over the course of several months. All very interesting on paper - or onstage - but absolutely boring onscreen. Because Closer is not a movie at all, it's filmed theatre. As a result, the impression I got was of laziness and lack of imagination.
Not the smallest effort has been made to adapt the play to the cinematic medium. I don't think the script involved a lot of work. Words are the only driver for the action here, defining the characters and marking the passing of time. The dialogues - lengthy and expositive, aimed to explain everything - are the fuel that make this movie go ahead. This is so evident that, at one point, I almost expected Derek Jakobi to pop out from behind a bush and start to talk in Shakespearian English, explaining where we are and what we are going to see, in case we didn't get it right the first time. I don't mind this when watching a play, but this is a movie!. Unlike onstage, in films you don't need to rely so strongly - or solely - on words to tell the story. And generally, a more economic use of dialogue results in a better movie - unless you are Eric Rohmer. In that case, you may pull the talking trick successfully, most of the time. Unfortunately, this is not the case.
Maybe it is that I didn't engage with any of the characters, so their endless blabber failed to move me. I didn't find them particularly alluring or capable or provoking such passions in others, so they seemed rather tiresome to me. When not dishonest bullies (Clive Owen's arrogant doctor), they were insufferably wimpy (Julia Robert's photographer and Jude Law's journalist). With regards of Natalie Portman's role - a feisty stripper - I still don't have a clue of what was going on with her. I don't even remember the names of the characters the actors play. In me, that's a bad sign; it means that I cannot care less about the whole thing.
Or perhaps it was the fact that I found the continued attempt of passing rude language and histrionics for a sincere exploration of the miseries of sex mildly irritating. Such cheap tricks put me off so much, that nothing of what came next managed to ring true. Call me old-fashioned, but I don't get it. This movie didn't make any sense to me.Read more!
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Le conseguenze dell' amore (The consequences of love)
A super-stylish Italian film about a middle- aged man, called Titta Di Girolamo, that has spent almost 10 years in a Swiss hotel, in what seems to be a Golden Exile from Hell: fixed routines, neatness and order all around, exquisite politeness and the same dinner companions over the years. Most of his time he spends it doing nothing, smoking and watching his fellow guests, who seem only a bit less lost than himself.
The only disruptions of this extremely predictable life are his occasional visits to a nearby bank to deliver a suitcase full of cash - that a team of clerks diligently count without making questions - and the everyday sight of Sofia, the beautiful waitress at the hotel bar. She is a vibrant young woman, half-intrigued, half-annoyed, by the aloofness and reserve of a guest that has attended the bar every evening for a long time, without greeting her even once. Because Titta keeps humankind at bay, when not directly observing it with the detached gaze of an entomologist.
However, Sofia is the only one that persists in trying to crack the defenses of the mysterious guest. The day he finally starts to consider letting her in, he makes a mental note of "never underestimating the consequences of love". And consequences there will be, that's for sure.
This is a very cool story, told in Dry Martini fashion: chilled, transparent and free of sugary elements. The olive of the cocktail are the sub-plots about an aging couple and a bunch of colorful characters that cast some light on Titta's past history and his reasons for vegetating in Switzerland.
You might like to carry a shawl with you anyway, as the story warms up at the same speed as its main character and the mise-en-scene is deliberately cool and distant. But the coldness and pace give the film its character. Thankfully, this is not your typical example of empty, watching-the-paint-go-dry filming style.
Read more!The only disruptions of this extremely predictable life are his occasional visits to a nearby bank to deliver a suitcase full of cash - that a team of clerks diligently count without making questions - and the everyday sight of Sofia, the beautiful waitress at the hotel bar. She is a vibrant young woman, half-intrigued, half-annoyed, by the aloofness and reserve of a guest that has attended the bar every evening for a long time, without greeting her even once. Because Titta keeps humankind at bay, when not directly observing it with the detached gaze of an entomologist.
However, Sofia is the only one that persists in trying to crack the defenses of the mysterious guest. The day he finally starts to consider letting her in, he makes a mental note of "never underestimating the consequences of love". And consequences there will be, that's for sure.
This is a very cool story, told in Dry Martini fashion: chilled, transparent and free of sugary elements. The olive of the cocktail are the sub-plots about an aging couple and a bunch of colorful characters that cast some light on Titta's past history and his reasons for vegetating in Switzerland.
You might like to carry a shawl with you anyway, as the story warms up at the same speed as its main character and the mise-en-scene is deliberately cool and distant. But the coldness and pace give the film its character. Thankfully, this is not your typical example of empty, watching-the-paint-go-dry filming style.
