Month: February 2015

A Most Violent Year (R)

9 Stars

For the most violent year in New York City’s history, there’s fairly little violence depicted visually.

For viewers paying close attention to the radio broadcasts, it’s a different story. Wink.

Oxymoronic also considering it’s an independent film and a period piece.

Elaborately set during the winter of 1981; it doesn’t feel very ‘independent.’

It stands at $4.6M in the box office, according to Box Office Mojo and Rotten Tomatoes; a tragedy considering it’s $20M production budget.

This may be a reflection of late distribution, finally releasing wide in theaters on January 30.

Which is intrinsically tied to its complete lack of Oscar nominations.

A gosh-darn-shame, considering the filmmaker’s credentials.

As the scholars say, J. C. Chandor is an ‘auteur.’

Which Google defines as, “A filmmaker whose personal influence and artistic control over a movie are so great that the filmmaker is regarded as the author of the movie.”

A less frilly description is writer/director.

J. C.’s crafted three flicks thus far, including 2011’s Margin Call and 2013’s All Is Lost.

Both were critically well-received, and particularly the former contains my stamp of approval.

In a way, he’s comparable to Woody Allen; relying less on elaborate cinematic sequences or stylistic editing, and focusing heavily on story and strong acting.

‘Great movies for adults’ is another way to say it.

A Most Violent Year’s no different.

The cast is phenomenal.

Oscar Isaac (of Inside Llewyn Davis fame) is fantastic in the leading role.

Albert Brooks is excellent, but did you expect anything less?

No; of course not. The man’s a master of his craft.

Another master, Jessica Chastain, delivers a remarkable performance.

The word ‘snub’ is overly bandied about.

But if Laura Dern’s five minutes of Wild screen time total up to a Best Supporting Actress nomination, one can easily argue Chastain deserves it more.

All in all, A Most Violent Year hasn’t received the credit it deserves.

It’s written well, full of strong performances and compelling throughout.

Catch it in theaters while you still have the chance!

Still Alice (PG-13)

8 Stars

“Movies are mechanisms of empathy,” Roger Ebert didn’t quite say.

But this reviewer prefers the misquoted diction (provided by Anderson Cowan of The Film Vault.)

When one asks, “Why watch Still Alice when it’s only going to depress me?”

There’s only one legitimate response.

“It’s a mechanism of empathy, dawg.”

Channeling an experiential river flow, the narrative spins the neurological waterwheel.

Did I want to watch Still Al? No.

Am I a smarter/better person following the experience? Absolutely.

The purely objective form of personal growth? The viewer’s exponentially more fluent in the Alzheimer’s realm of modern medicine.

The subjective forms? For one: The priceless merit of seeing a well-crafted, timely motion picture.

Two: If your torso’s peppered with shurikens, I’d hope it wouldn’t come as a complete surprise.

Likewise, if my demise arrives on a tidal wave of death stars, what’s to stop me from running around in a circle and screaming obscenities until the official end?

Maximizing (rather than minimizing) the agony of my unexpected affliction.

Catch my drift, proverbial reader?

Still Alice is profoundly sad, but not ‘depressing.’

‘Depressing’ connotes a residual effect; a lasting (potentially irrevocable) alteration of your emotional state.

I discourage this aversion toward cinematic tragedy. My top three films of all time (Platoon, Raging Bull and Schindler’s List) belong in the downer category.

Tragedy often spotlights hidden profundities.

Still Alice is a heartwarming narrative obscured by the haze of Early Onset Alzheimer’s, a rare form of the disease. Symptoms typically begin showing in the early fifties.

At that precise moment, the viewer meets Alice and her family.

It’s tough, folks.

No sugarcoating it.

Expect to weep. More than once.

On a high note, it’s well shot, directed and edited. The writing’s crisp; the drama’s chilly and real.

Lead by an outstanding performance from one of the best actresses ever, Julianne Moore, the entire cast is fantastic.

Alec Baldwin’s excellence in a major supporting role comes as no surprise.

What (perhaps) defies expectation is an equally terrific piece of acting from Kristen Stewart.

This reviewer hopped aboard Kristen’s locomotive after Snow White and The Huntsman. That gal’s gotten a bum rap, despite some serious acting chops.

Anyhow. For an educational and moving experience, check out Still Alice.

It’s a top quality flick, featuring adept performances from a tight (but stellar) cast.

Should one find oneself sobbing mid-theater, cursing a favorite film reviewer’s name, try to remind oneself:

“It’s a mechanism of empathy, dawg.”

Feel that cognitive waterwheel aturnin’.