End of Watch (David Ayer, 2012)
Whether the cops in End of Watch talk like cops matters less than the joy of them talking like actual human beings. Jake Gyllenhaal and partner Michael Peña enjoy a natural chemistry that works with Ayer’s hyperactive, disjunctive direction to give the impression of normal police work on L.A. streets even as the calls to which they respond are not only blatantly cinematic on an individual basis but also link up in a building narrative arc. That frenetic direction is the result of handheld cameras, most of which appear diegetically, toted by cop and criminal alike as their colleagues attempt to dissuade the would be filmmakers from carrying around evidence against them. It figures: the one time these characters are spared the weight of allegorical importance, they strive to be symbolic stars of their own movies. Admittedly, the sheer frantic collision of shots holds the film back, but it also pays off in some nearly surreal setpieces, especially during a rescue effort in a burning house that actually manages to communicate the terror of heat forming physical barriers and exits being lost behind smokescreens at a second’s notice. Besides, the technique cannot be too distancing, as End of Watch creates an immediacy of emotional connection rare to cop films. Grade: B+
Personal blog of freelance critic Jake Cole, with exclusive content and links to writing around the Web.
Showing posts with label Jake Gyllenhaal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jake Gyllenhaal. Show all posts
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Monday, April 11, 2011
Source Code
My review for Duncan Jones' flawed but entertaining anti-sophomore slump Source Code is up now at Cinelogue. I'm still waiting for Jones to find his own voice or at least keep stewing his influences until they all turn into a homogeneous mix, but I cannot deny that he's rapidly becoming a force to be reckoned with as a sci-fi director. Source Code may not show off its cast the way Moon proved a vehicle for superb character and personal man-crush Sam Rockwell, but Jake Gyllenhaal hasn't been this interesting since Brokeback Mountain and Michelle Monaghan makes an irresistible person out of a completely flat character (though not even she can make the romantic plot all that believable, I'm afraid). Undercooked as it may be, Source Code played with some interesting ideas within a captivating narrative, and I would not hesitate to recommend it. On a numerical scale, I'd rate it about a 3.5 or maybe even a light 4 out of 5.
Please check out my review at Cinelogue and let me know what you think.
Please check out my review at Cinelogue and let me know what you think.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Zodiac

David Fincher is certainly no stranger to crime thrillers: his breakthrough Se7en remains one of the best pieces of neo-noir ever produced. But his return to serial killer dramas, Zodiac, stands as his finest achievement. Based on the real life murder spree of the unknown "Zodiac Killer" in the San Fransisco Bay Area in the late 60s and 70s, Zodiac follows the lives of the detectives and reporters who got caught up in the case that spanned numerous county lines and decades and was never officially solved.If nothing else, it's a bold film: Fincher opens the film with a string of the Zodiac's murders and then structures the other two hours or so as a police procedural in which a handful of people who become obsessed by the case try to sort out the various clues and cut through the red tape to find the truth: who is the Zodiac Killer? The early murders play out with a horrifying quality, not only because of how Fincher understates their deaths but because we know these people actually died, and for no other reason than they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
After the Zodiac murders a young woman and seriously injures her boyfriend at the start of the film, he sends in a cryptic letter to the San Fransisco Chronicle, admitting that he shot the two teenagers and promising to kill again if the editors don't print a portion of a cypher he sent to them (he sent the other two parts to other newspapers). Crime reporter Paul Avery (Robert Downey Jr.) gets on the case, and is soon joined by an unlikely aide: cartoonist Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal), a man who loves puzzles and obsesses over the killer's cypher.
For over two hours, Graysmith tries to put all the pieces together as all those around him give up; Paul Avery becomes paranoid when the Zodiac announces an intention to kill him, and eventually loses everything to alcoholism before winding up with emphysema. Detective Dave Toschi (Mark Ruffalo) works with Avery and Graysmith but eventually gets buried under the red tape involved with the cross-county investigation. That in particular made the Zodiac so brilliant: by committing crimes all over the place he prevented any one person from figuring it all out.
But Graysmith never gives up; years after the Zodiac stops killing, he tries to consolidate the various pieces of evidence into a book in the hopes that, if all the facts are placed in one location, maybe someone can figure out the identity of the killer. People repeatedly ask if the intrepid, doe-eyed young man is "some kind of Boy Scout or something," to which he chirpily responds "Eagle Scout, First Class!" His dogged determination wins him the grudging respect of many of the detectives who find themselves routinely astonished by the things that Robert digs up.
Technically, the film employs Fincher's visual genius, but in a far more understated manner than his usual effects. He uses digital tricks not to add in the expressionist nightmares of Se7en or the fantasy splendor of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button but to cast a dreary gloom over the Bay Area. Fincher never shows us the media phenomenon the murders created, but he captures the mood of a city gripped in fear with its muted colors and dour feel. It works so well that it's a little hard to make out the effects at all
I've heard some people complain that the film fails because it doesn't tell you who the killer was. Some people are just plain stupid: is Fincher really supposed to solve an actual cold case for the purposes of entertainment? Personally, I find the film to be astonishing; Fincher throws a lot of facts and figures at us for 2-1/2 hours and not once did they bore me. At its heart, Zodiac is a police procedural about police procedurals, whose hopelessness and cynicism is tempered by the knowledge that even if crimes go unsolved, a few individuals are willing to do their best to solve them no matter the cost. Fincher has a few modern classics under his belt, but here is his first true masterpiece.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Donnie Darko

Do you have a favorite movie? Something you can watch over and over again, and find something new to love each time? Well, in a Bizarro world kind of way (or perhaps the alternate dimension Donnie explores in the film), I feel the same way about Donnie Darko, except each time I find some new tidbit that fills me with loathing. I've seen the film only one and a half times and watched it another with the director's commentary, yet I've come no closer to gleaning a point from this jumbled mess of psychological and philosophical clichés. I would have preferred never to watch this again as long as I live, and perhaps to turn to alcoholism one day to purge the final remnants from my memory, but my film teacher couldn't find a copy of The Usual Suspects to buy or rent so I had to pack my bags for my third trip into Hell.The protagonist of Donnie Darko is an unbalanced teenager living in suburban Virginia in 1988. He's heavily medicated, he sees a shrink and he's so brilliant that he just lazes in his classes out of boredom. He has two sisters, Elizabeth (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and Samantha (Daveigh Chase) and two loving but concerned parents, Rose and Eddie (Mary McDonnel and Holmes Osborne), who try to understand Donnie but cannot.
One night Donnie wakes up to a mysterious voice leading him out of the house. On the lawn, he meets a man named Frank, who wears a perverse bunny suit and tells him the world will end in 28 days. That same night, a jet engine falls on Donnie's bedroom while he's out. The next morning he returns to the house, and his parents greet him so casually it's as if he went out for a few minutes to go get milk. Here's where the problems start.
Despite some serious talent on-screen, from McDonnel to both Gyllenhaals (and keep a look out for a young Seth Rogen), the acting in this film is laughable. Jake Gyllenhaal just looks sullen the whole time so that when he smiles you'll react (you won't), while Drew Barrymore, who plays a teacher unafraid to teach outside the curriculum, kills every scene she's in with her atrocious performance. I understand that the character speaks in a thickly ironic tone, but the utterly blank look and feel of the character do nothing but suck the life from the film. And she's supposed to be the fun teacher.
As for dialogue, Kelly gets laughs on the back of the tried and true method of "Just say random things and people will chuckle" rule of anti-comedy. There's a Chinese girl who shouts "Chut up!" whenever someone speaks to her (usually to insult her), but really she has a crush on Donnie so that gives her depth, I suppose. Bullies shout crass nonsense at every turn. At a dinner scene at the beginning Donnie and Elizabeth trade non-sequitur barbs at the table. All of it got a chuckle out of my classmates, but the film did not earn them; the recent Gran Torino used similar tactics to get a rise out of the audience, but at least that became genuinely funny after a fashion.
Plot-wise--oh, who am I kidding? There isn't one. Kelly uses Donnie's survival to open up an alternate universe, as in the real world Donnie would have died in the engine accident. From this comes a number of highly complex themes, which are promptly handled with child-like simplicity. Eventually Donnie inquires about time travel, and we can smell the beginning of the end.
Perhaps if Kelly had stuck to these themes he might have made sense of them, but instead he tries to cover everything under the sun. There's an old lady who lives on the outskirts of town, so riddled with dementia that everyday she stands in the middle of the road and routinely checks her mailbox to see if she has any post. A religious teacher attempts to ban books from the curriculum and forces students to watch a self-help video series offered by a charismatic yet immediately off-putting salesman named Bill Cunningham (Patrick Swayze). She also runs the dance team Samantha works on, and frequently criticizes Rose's parenting. A girl (Jena Malone) transfers to the school and falls for Donnie, who falls for her.
All of these strands offer interesting potential, yet Kelly leads them along with uncertainty, as if working without a script, only to crush them all together at various points in ways that offer no insight into the characters and no real resolution of narrative. We learn that the mad old woman wrote a book about time, Donnie's relationship with Gretchen is sweet but pointless, and Rose covers for the uptight Miss Farmer even though she had no real reason to do so.
The only satisfactory moment of the entire film comes in Donnie's rebellion against Miss Farmer and Bill Cunningham. When he calls Bill the Antichrist it's the first real emotional release of the film. Then we learn a secret about Bill that adds nothing to the story other than to confirm our suspicions that he was not to be trusted.
The ending lacks emotional resonance because, like Donnie, we know it's coming. This does necessarily mean that emotion could not be wrung from the event, but Kelly treats it like a surprise and thus does not go out of his way to make it powerful. In the end Donnie meets his fate because he must, not because he's grown or matured, and it offers no sense of closure for the character. His actions set the world right, but we now know things about the characters that makes them not worth saving.
I did try even after my miserable past with this film, to examine it closer than ever before, to see if I could connect the dots and maybe see whatever it is its supporters see in it (the usual response I get is "because it's awesome!"). Yet the only thing I discovered this time is how cheap and punny the music selection is. Using music, even contemporary pop songs, to establish moods and characters is great, but Kelly seems to read the title of the song and/or the lines of its chorus and play that over a relating event as if it encapsulates the mood of the scene.
Also lacking is any skill with a camera. Kelly tries his hand at pseudo-experimental flourishes, some of which (the speed of the frames) relate to the themes of the film but nevertheless distract and annoy. He seems to loop shots out of laziness, not emphasis. He's not a terrible director, but I'd rather see a film in which the camera barely moves than one in which it calls attention to itself, especially if it's not doing anything that impressive.
All in all, this is a muddled journey through Richard Kelly's head; it's like watching a chalkboard where he's outlined the themes of the film he wants to make rather than a finished product. Our teacher told us to look out for rounded characters in the film, and I honestly can't pick one. Donnie becomes a little three-dimensional when he admits he's afraid of being alone, but that's never truly built upon, even in his relationship with Gretchen. Because these themes never pay off, the film lacks flow and plays like a disjointed series of shots. Kelly wants to craft an existential quandary with these themes but opts not to show us his metaphysical musing but to tell us bluntly.
Yet the most maddening aspect of the film is how much it overflows with potential. Somewhere, buried deep in Kelly's inability to link everything, lies a real story, one that can utilize at least most of the themes he presents in a way that will work. His follow-up, Southland Tales, which is even worse than this, has the same potential, and that will keep me interested in the director. One of these days Richard Kelly is going to figure out how to make all the ideas floating around in his head work, and I can't wait to be there when he does.
Now, I don't like focusing solely on the negative unless something is truly without artistic merit, so here's some food for thought: Mary McDonnell absolutely owns her role. She has little to do but she walks away with the entire film as the mother who wants so desperately to connect with her son, but never presumes to change him. If only we got more characters like her this film might have been worth watching. But the real delight of this viewing is that, as I looked around the room, all these kids who'd been so happy to watch the film were fast asleep. Now that they actually had to pay attention they were bored out of their skulls. My faith in humanity has been somewhat restored.
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