Short Take: "The Muppets", "The Adventures of Tintin".

Appealing to nostalgia might not be the best angle to use in a society where history is constantly relegated to a previous, usually inferior, level of existence, however this is exactly what The Muppets does and it does it magically. Based on the beloved characters made famous by Jim Henson in the late 1970s, the film tries to rekindle the memories of those who loved the Muppets, while introducing them to a whole new generation.
Injected with the fresh blood of director James Bobin and musical composer Bret McKenzie (two of the men behind the amazing Flight of the Conchords) and writer/actor Jason Segel, the movie is a pure labor of love, done by the people who grew up with these characters and who wanted younger people to get to know them.
The movie in a way is a fictitious version of its creation. When it starts we meet Gary (Segel) and Walter, two brothers who live in Smalltown, USA and who grew up loving the Muppets (one of the first scenes has them watching the show together in an episode with Steve Martin as a guest). Walter has a special reason for loving them more: he is a Muppet himself.
Gary and his girlfriend Mary (Adams) take Walter to Los Angeles so he can make his dream come true and visit The Muppets' studio, however once there, Walter is appalled to find out that not only is the lot practically deserted, but an evil businessman (Cooper) has decided to steal it and turn it into an oil refinery.
Walter sets out on a mission to get all the Muppets back together and raise the money to save the studio.
Call it a mix between a telethon (moviethon?), an old fashioned "let's put a show together" spectacle and a trip down memory lane.
The film goes the extra mile to put a smile on audience faces while paying tribute to the enormous legacy The Muppets have had in pop culture but more than that it works as a superb exercise in postmodern theories regarding memory and its direct relation with mass entertainment.
Many people may not remember when they took their first step or when their first tooth fell out but they're more than likely to remember the first time they watched their favorite movie or their favorite TV show. Why and how media has developed parallel to our sensory is perhaps a matter best left to anthropologists and sociologists, however the issue with this film is that it taps onto something similar to an imagined collective consciousness; its pleasures exclusive to those who feel at home watching The Muppets.
The film's meta elements wonderfully convey the nature of filmmaking and interestingly enough lead us to question the prevalence of film as a medium, for example how will future generations feel about the use of current celebrities as "stars"? The film itself makes a point - in some truly outrageous jokes - about the ups and downs of star power. If people fifty years from now think of Jack Black as a movie star, then the movie will have huge nostalgic power, however if they wonder who the hell the fat guy with the weird smile is, the film will prove a point. Either way The Muppets come out winners.

The Adventures of Tintin might very well be the best movie Steven Spielberg has made in a decade. Unlike his "live action" projects which suffer from his excessive use of sentimentality and his need to tie everything up with a lovely bow, this graphic novel adaptation is served from its source material's no-bullshit approach to entertaining, which is something Spielberg has truly excelled at.
Tintin reminds you of the Indiana Jones movies and some of his family classics like E.T.: The Extra-terrestrial because you can feel how the director is loving every minute of it. Motion capture seems to have opened up a door that he's kept shut in favor of more "serious" films. From its lovingly detailed opening sequence, to its wonderful homage to Lawrence of Arabia the film thrives with a restlessness that becomes truly addictive. The work of the actors is superb and the film has one of the most exciting sequences Spielberg has ever shot.
It's refreshing to see how medium experts are finding new life in modern techniques.

Grades:
The Muppets ***½
The Adventures of Tintin ***

The Town ***

Director: Ben Affleck
Cast: Ben Affleck, Jeremy Renner, Jon Hamm, Rebecca Hall
Blake Lively, Chris Cooper, Titus Welliver, Slaine, Pete Postlethwaite

Who would've guessed that in his directing Ben Affleck would manifest all the straightforwardness he fails to present in his redundant work as a thespian? The Town is barely his second directorial effort and already he's developing what could be called a style. Of course Affleck's style is highly influenced, if not directly extracted, from the work of Clint Eastwood (the cinematography and sense of in-justice) and Martin Scorsese (the seductiveness of crime as a lifestyle) but with this and Gone Baby Gone he seems to have mastered what it takes to deliver a no-bullshit film in what can be referred to as a "classic style".
His film is straight out of this universe where crime is the only kind of life and the one everyone's trying to escape. Affleck plays Doug MacRay, a career criminal who falls in love with Claire (Hall), the bank manager he takes hostage after one of his gang's heists gets threatening.
In Claire, Doug sees the perfect way to atone for his sins while giving himself a second chance. Of course this threatens the stability of his gang as his friend James (Renner) begins to resent Doug for wanting to leave and they also end at the mercy of the local kingpin (Postlethwaite).
The Town has all the makings of a movie we've seen countless times, or at least to come from the same place where these movies have come from. There's also an FBI agent, keen on catching the criminals and even a femme fatale, in the shape of Lively's Krista, a woman who had an affair with Doug and is reluctant to see him move on.
It seems that every element and every character in the film are trying to drag Doug down with them and in a way it's fascinating to see how Affleck manages to make us sympathize with this character who is unarguably guilty of several crimes. Yet we find ourselves rooting for him to succeed in his relationship with Claire for example and in the bloody climax we still have an idea of him as some sort of hero.
The film boasts an impressive cast and all of them deliver efficient work. The seriously underrated Hall gives Claire the complexity needed to empathize with her even when she makes strange choices, Hamm is superb, even if nothing is really demanded of him other than to look heroic and use the hell out of his Superman looks and Cooper is fantastic in a single scene.
Renner gives the film's best performance as he creates a character that's as real as he's cinematic. James is one part Method acting, two parts hybrid between James Cagney and Richard Widmark. He's electrifying!
In the biggest setpieces he seems to be fueling the energy from within his body and you can not take your eyes off him even as he commits the most gruesome acts of violence.
It has to be said that Affleck is a master at action sequences, there isn't a single action scene in this movie that feels lacking or unnecessary. They are executed with such precision and stamina that you believe they are recreations of things we might've seen on the news.
If he fails a bit with the most intimate scenes, it only means that he's still finding his niche (there are several red herrings that feel more like plot holes than Hitchcockian techniques) but for all that matters, The Town is nothing if not promising.

Sheet-y Saturday.

Where we take a look at posters for upcoming features.


The upper half of this poster is a thing of beauty. Simple illustrations to make a powerful point.
The lower half is a mess though. Not only is it a total ripoff of things that have been done better before but the images and credits are so conflicting.
For starters the movie is called Company Men, emphasis in "men", yet we have the awesome Maria Bello right in the middle of that testosterone party looking all lost and confused.
What's weird isn't that the lack of her name among the credits makes this seem like some misogynist Neil Labute experiment but that once you realize she's the only one in that group who doesn't have an Oscar (or a goddamn nomination for starters!) makes it all seem more unfair and just plain bad.


This movie is honestly making me think of this too much.
But just how cute was Matt Damon in the 30 Rock season premiere?

Interested in either of these movies?
Also I just realized this edition of Sheet-y Saturday paired Ben and Matt, I promise it was totally unintentional.

Where the Wild Things Are ****

Director: Spike Jonze
Cast: Max Records, Catherine Keener, Mark Ruffalo
Lauren Ambrose, James Gandolfini, Paul Dano, Chris Cooper
Forest Whitaker, Catherine O'Hara, Michael Berry Jr.

A wave of pure joy rushes over you from the moment the studio logos appear in Spike Jonze's "Where the Wild Things Are", an energetic, achingly bittersweet adaptation of Maurice Sendak's children's book.
Published in 1963 the book was deemed impossible to translate to the screen considering it's made out of ten sentences and pictures. The kind of beautiful simplicity contained in it charms both kids and adults, because they have the liberty of imagining more than they read.
Jonze, who co-wrote the screenplay with Dave Eggers, retains the essence of the book and expands on it without taking away its power.
But how do you expand on a story that depends so much on each person's own world views? Jonze deftly crafts the story of Max (Records) using conventional archetypes and turns him into a little boy who's ignored by his older sister (Pepita Emmerichs) and bullied by her friends who destroy an igloo he's very proud of.
He also lives with his mom (the luminous Keener) who can't give him all the attention he craves and the only reference we see of his father is in an inscription attached to a globe he gave him which reads "to Max owner of this world love Dad".
One night Max builds a fort to protect himself from the sun's imminent death (which he learned of earlier that day at school) and when his mother refuses to enter in it because she's busy with her boyfriend (Ruffalo), Max proceeds to put on his wolf costume and create the ultimate tantrum.
He runs away to escapepunishment and finds a small rowboat floating in a pond. He gets in it and sails until he reaches an island where he runs into a group of strange creatures.
Max identifies with their love for destruction and approaches them with the kind of selfconfidence he lacked in his own home.
The creatures, who have hair, horns and feather, don't seem to scare him at all. He tells them he has magical powers and they name him their king.
Max's reign will have dirt-clod fights, giant forts, rumpuses and also the promise that he will vanish loneliness and sadness from the creatures' lives.
The king identifies the most with Carol (Gadolfini) who like him throws tantrums when his wishes aren't granted and wants everyone to be together and love each other.
This brings him problems with the others like pushover Ira (Whitaker) and his girlfriend Judith (O'Hara) who's the self appointed downer. Or Alexander (Dano) a goat like creature who feels belittled and ignored most of the time.
But Carol's biggest disappointments usually come at the hand of K.W. (Ambrose), the most independent creature in the group who has decided to leave them and move somewhere else creating conflicts in their society.
Max soon realizes that he won't be able to keep harmony long, after all he's just "a boy pretending to be a wolf pretending to be a king".
Jonze's first miracle comes in the way he doesn't really ask us to suspend our disbelief, he gives Max so much confidence that we believe what he's seeing without having time to wonder where did all this come from.
In a way he does for the creatures' island what Victor Fleming made for Oz; as in creating a land of wonder that might exist only within the main character's imagination, but has enough humanity to allow all of us as visitors too.
But Max thanks to Records' phenomenal work also gives the boy a characteristic that's usually hidden in these kinds of films: complete selfishness.
When he first reaches the island the boy doesn't think for one second of going back home, unlike Dorothy, his quest isn't to find a way back but to remain there forever.
He only starts thinking about his past when he realizes that even in this special world he still feels alone.
Despite Records' fantastic performance, Jonze doesn't make the island specifically about him. It's more like a place where to find every kind of archetype from a collective childhood's psyche.
The journey there is like an existential crisis at a time when simplistic reasoning contains the most powerful wisdom. "Happiness isn't always the best way to be happy" complains Judith and the statement makes sense in the context.
The director tries to tell children that they are not alone in the world and attempts to explain to them that the perils that lie ahead are nothing compared to the joys.
When Max hears that the sun, like all things, will die the camera shows us how he looks at his mother and sister with an angst he can't share with them. He's also aware that this is the very sun that scenes later will illuminate a vast desert and make it seem like the most beautiful thing he's seen.
He also reasons with spirituality as he becomes a God to the creatures who blame him for their unhappiness. This exemplifies perfectly the deification of parents in the child's eye.
Max can't fathom that his father both gave him the world (the globe in this case) and then took it away by leaving them.
His probable guilt is projected in the island with the complicated relationship between Carol and K.W. who love each other but can't be together.
Jonze's raw production, aided by Lance Acord's breathtaking earthy cinematography and Karen O and the Kids' rich, cheerful music, doesn't really give us time to sit down and think about the film's psychological observations. It's way too busy having fun and feeling alive.
The film spoils itself in the first ten minutes or so where again like "The Wizard of Oz" it gives us all the references we need to solve Max's puzzle in the island of the wild things.
The emotional connection it makes to that movie is a bittersweet reminder that Max's story might be ridden with perpetual repetition; its events meant to be reenacted forever by generations to come.
Jonze may not know how to solve the issues of childhood, but he tells us the island will be there when we need it.
And if Jonze, like Max, asks too many questions the imaginative answers he comes up with serve to appease at least for a minute or two the alienation that comes with being a child, regardless of how old we are.

Married Life **

Director: Ira Sachs
Cast: Pierce Brosnan, Chris Cooper, Patricia Clarkson, Rachel McAdams

We get it, life in the 1940's wasn't any better than life in our times.
Which is why one has to look beneath the surface to explain why does Hollywood choose to go back to this time to deconstruct the picket fenced, pastel colored lives of its inhabitants.
A reminder perhaps that old isn't necessarily better? Or a bitter attempt to bring our illusions about nostalgia down to Earth?
Whatever the reason is, and judging from the result of this film, director, Ira Sachs himself has no clue of why he chose this path as he explores love and relationships through the eyes of four characters.
Harry Allen (Cooper) is a successful man in his fifties married to Pat (Clarkson), a devoted wife who believes that love is best embodied by sex.
This leads the romantic Harry to fall in love with young war widow Kay (McAdams) who breathes new life into his existence.
The trouble with Harry is that he just doesn't know how to leave Pat without causing her too much pain and decides that the most humane way would be murder.
When his best friend, and narrator, Richard Langley (Brosnan) becomes infatuated with Kay, the plot gives path to a hybrid of noir, Sirk and Hitchcock on style and dark comedy and drama on genre (with none of the factors coming out unscathed or slightly clear).
With a flawless eye for detail (including title credits that promise more than they deliver) "Married Life" is beautiful to behold, but unlike films of the era to which the aesthetics were inherent and to postmodern essays that choose this setting to deliver a specific message, Sachs goes to the 40s because they sure look pretty.
Shot with a European sensibility, the film often lacks some sort of soul, which is luckily provided by two of the performers.
Cooper brings a sense of decency to this man who contemplates murder in such a complex way that for a minute or two you might find yourself understanding his motives.
While the endlessly surprising Clarkson gives Pat a duality one would've thought was inexistent for a character like hers. She can be completely sweet and dedicated, just as easily as she can become wickedly seductive (and her raspy voice does wonders for this).
McAdams never really musters any sort of passion in order for us to believe she'd make men act like this, but if the intention was to go for a frigid Hitchcock blonde, she's as pretty an ornament as she ever was (and you can argue more if the intention was to sexualize her all American goodness).
But one of the film's major problems comes in the shape of Brosnan, while it's undeniable that he's growing as an actor, the plot throws him into the mix and never really knows what to do with him.
His voice is a perfect choice for noir narration and in theory his looks and charm make him tailor made for this role (one that would've probably been played by Fred McMurray back in the day) but the director makes the fatal mistake of also turning him into his own opinion, a sort of anachronistic intruder that is supposed to work as our mediator.
When events start unfolding and he becomes key part in the futures of the other characters we realize that the film doesn't have the guts to turn into a full farce, has no real respect to be an homage and it also lacks the winks to turn into a parody, making it as lost as the emotions of the people in it.
It's even worse when it's unable to sustain ideals its characters were supposed to have, not because characters aren't allowed to change which would be a ridiculous suggestion, but because it's yet another proof of how the film slips so much in its attempt to distract us with smoldering style.