(My) Best of 2011: Supporting Actress

5. Jennifer Lawrence in The Beaver

Jennifer Lawrence has one of those faces made to encompass the concept of All-American Girl however she has the acting chops to subvert these very notions and turn them into enigmatic traits. Take her performance in Jodie Foster's vastly underrated work of art The Beaver, here Lawrence plays Norah, a high-school girl who also happens to be a cheerleader, valedictorian and an underground graffiti artist. While lesser actresses would've conformed with letting the character do all the work, Lawrence taps onto something great: she recognizes the deep humanity that lies beneath the seemingly perfect shell and turns Norah into the most haunting characters in an already enthralling film.

4. Jennifer Ehle in Contagion

In an ensemble piece that feels more Nashville than Gosford Park it results kind of difficult for one actor to make a more lasting impact than others, particularly when their stories barely intersect and each of them end up commanding tiny movies of their own. In the case of Contagion it would seem almost impossible to choose between the impressively moving work of Kate Winslet, the vanity free performance of  Gwyneth Paltrow or the worldly wisdom projected by the lovely Marion Cotillard and yet it's the subtle work of Jennifer Ehle that stays with you and lingers for weeks after you see the movie. Playing the part of a dedicated scientist most of her scenes are actually dialogue-free. However watching the way her Meryl Streep-ian features light up is nothing if not magical. Ehle has the kind of face that evokes Falconetti and Streep in equal measures, the camera becomes so transfixed by her ethereal beauty that she needs but to muster a smile to let us into the secrets of creation.

3. Keira Knightley in A Dangerous Method

Year after year Keira Knightley seems to be delivering astonishing work that goes by without people making a fuss about it. Why? Her work in a movie like A Dangerous Method for example would get countless actresses hyperbolic comments about their craft and such. The way in which the young actress immerses herself into the character of Sabina Spielrein proves she possesses talents that go beyond her years. The way she allows the character to possess her is almost too disturbing to watch. The way in which Sabina's inner demons surface in shocking demonic moves makes Keira look completely awful, her notorious jaw and underbite deforming her lovely features and yet out of all of this - done without prosthetic work or special effects - Keira is always able to come back and find the latent humanity in this woman. She turns in absolutely moving work and steals the show from both Michael Fassbender and Viggo Mortensen; watching her squirm with pleasure as Carl Jung (Fassbender) whips her might just send you into nervous shock.

2. Jessica Chastain in The Help

We all know Jessica Chastain had the most terrific year any actress could've ever wished for. Her presence in some of the most important pictures of 2011 turned into a recurrent joke, where everyone assumed in reality she'd literally been in every single movie. The beauty of  the Chastain effect however wasn't her perseverance but the quality of her work. She was the MVP in each of those movies she was in! She created different characters whose only common denominator was the actress playing them, other than that you could never see any of her conflicted Samantha from Take Shelter in the haunting performance she turned in The Tree of Life. However even within her flawless list of performances it was her affecting turn as Celia Foote in The Help the one which might very well become the most iconic of her short career. Filling the colorful 60's costumes and donning an outrageous blond wig, Chastain plays the ultimate ditzy blond, who moves into a town where she is hated for representing everything others only dream they could be. In a movie that takes intolerance to the front of the equation, it's her beautifully nuanced performance that comments on the way in which hatred can go beyond the confines of race, sex or religion. With the comedic timing of Judy Holliday and the whoop-dee-doop sex appeal of Marilyn Monroe, Chastain is more remarkable in quiet scenes where Celia's true persona surfaces. She might be all sunshine and smiles on the outside but we learn that she crafted this persona in order to survive in a world that would crush her without giving it a second thought.

1.Charlotte Gainsbourg in Melancholia

Lars von Trier has earned a reputation for torturing and destroying any actress who come near him. This results in quite the paradox when you see the performances he gets out of women in his films. It should mean something then - both for Lars and his ways and tough love in general - to see how Charlotte Gainsbourg has flourished under his direction. She was absolutely ravishing in Antichrist turning a performance that fearlessly dared to carry all the evil of the world upon its shoulders. Conversely her work in Melancholia seems almost saintlike. Playing Claire, the sister of depressed bride Justine (Kirsten Dunst), Gainsbourg effortlessly overcomes what could've been one of the film's biggest setbacks: the fact that no one in the family seems to be even remotely related. Instead of focusing on the differences between Claire and Justine, Gainsbourg devotes her performance to making them familiar because of the intense love they share. The way in which the actress seems to take pleasure in comforting the petite Dunst exudes warmth and a humanity unlike anything you've ever seen in a von Trier film. Even as she has to cope with her own fears and pain - after all a huge planet is about to destroy Earth - Gainsbourg gives a mature, unfathomably brave performance. She only allows Claire to break down during the very last moments of the film and unlike Dunst who is always one minute away from exploding with the joys of new discoveries, Gainsbourg always seems to have the knowledge of the world. Watching the way Claire's entire life flashes by in Gainsbourg's eyes in a matter of seconds isn't only testament to her prowess as an actress, it also reminds us of the beauty and fragility of life. 

Short Take: "We Need to Talk About Kevin", "Carnage" and "Higher Ground".

Evil doings always bring up questions about origins: where do people learn to be evil? Is it something you're born with? Is it something the world teaches you? Art has always been fascinated with the subject and artists have tried to tackle it from psychological, spiritual and sociological points of view. The fascination with the subject and the subject itself have become a "chicken or egg" situation. Cinema in particular has a shown a fetish for showing evil children who wreak havoc on their parents or the world (if they happen to be the Antichrist). Movies like The Omen for example deal with how people react around these demonic infants and more often than not give them a protector, someone who believes in the good within them or someone who wants to encourage their evil. We Need to Talk About Kevin isn't precisely that kind of movie but it doesn't steer too far from it either. Lynne Ramsay's adaptation of Lionel Shriver's novel gives us the title child, who goes from being a rebellious baby to committing a massacre as a teenager. The movie seems to have decided that there is something very wrong with Kevin from the start, giving the audience no choice but to observe how Ramsay captures his behavior through offbeat framing and artsy sequences. Kevin is shown as a cute but creepy child, who grows into a cute but creepier teenager (played by Ezra Miller) who likes to frown all day long. Ramsay seems to have a ball displaying Kevin's darkness and the film relies too much on the facile horror conventions it's also trying to escape. Since the film has already settled his evil for us, it's up to Tilda Swinton as his mom to try and convey some humanity within the movie. As always, Swinton creates a precise portrait of someone whose humanity overflows the screen. How is it that she results such an otherworldy, almost extraterrestrial public figure, yet she always embodies imperfectly perfect humanity when she acts? As Kevin's mom, Swinton delivers yet another masterful performance that lingers between Mia Farrow's delicious work in Rosemary's Baby and Swinton's own in the remarkable The Deep End: she makes us understand that she would go to the confines of the world to rescue her child's soul, even if she has to lose hers in the process.

Jodie Foster and John C. Reilly play a liberal couple whose kid was beaten up by another kid whose parents are A types played by Kate Winslet and Christoph Waltz. Over the course of an afternoon (the film happens in real time) both couples try to come up with a civilized solution to their problem. The problem is, nobody really knows what the problem is. For the parents of the victim, it's something about having their child's integrity restored, for the parents of the abuser, the issue has to do with how many time they're losing trying to understand "child's play". Before soon, the couples are going at each other like their kids did. Roman Polanski, who's always been a fan of confinement, takes the concept to a whole new level in his adaptation of Yasmina Reza's play about the Russian doll-ness of our society. The film is superbly acted (Foster is phenomenal!) but more often than not its purpose seems to be rather vacuous. Is it an exercise for its thespians? A playground diversion for its director? Or can it be simply that the source material never had that much to say?

Few actresses are as magnetic and fascinating as Vera Farmiga. She always conveys a sense of mystery and parallel earthiness that make her seem like a pre-Raphaelite goddess who's come to life out of a painting to say something about our world. In Higher Ground, her directorial debut, she does just that by teaching us a lesson about newborn evangelical Christians. While the movies often have conversion as the twist and usually the enemy of liberal purposes, Farmiga takes her time to observe these people and show us that - gasp - they too are human! Despite their narrow minded world views, despite their beliefs that rely on an unseen force and despite their constant bible quoting, they are not "the enemy". That Farmiga manages to do this without being preachy and instead injecting the film with a languorous sensuality might be the real miracle in store.

Grades:

We Need to Talk About Kevin **½

Carnage **

Higher Ground **½

My First FYC of the Awards Season:

Mel Gibson might be insane but I still haven't seen a better male performance this year than his amazing star turn in The Beaver. To read more, check out my brand new review for PopMatters.

Sheet-y Saturday.

Where we take a look at posters for upcoming features.

I don't know how I feel about the idea of the movie itself but I am digging their use of the iconic logo, also using the song as tagline is genius, which only makes me wonder...if they're relying on the original one's elements so much, why the hell was an update even necessary?

I would give my arm to see this movie ASAP! I've heard only wonderful things about it and this Chungking Express inspired poster just makes me want to hug the idea of watching it!

Can this movie please open today? Got to love how well they're using the floating heads to show us the range of emotions the actors will provide (this is an entire FYC campaign in the making!).

The use of colors is remarkable and it reveals a bit how the film isn't a full on drama. Extra points for Jodie's faces. That smile is still as captivating as it was in 1976.

So, dying to cut loose some carnage this weekend? (Hardy har har) No really, which of these posters make you go gaga?

The Beaver ***½

Director: Jodie Foster

Cast: Mel Gibson, Jodie Foster, Anton Yelchin, Jennifer Lawrence

Riley Thomas Stewart, Cherry Jones, Zachary Booth

Is an artist his own art? In recent times it's become practically impossible to analyze an artistic work without connecting it to the private life of its creator. Ever since the media became obsessed with covering aspects of artists' lives outside their medium of work, audiences have developed strange relationships with them, that in a way makes them believe that a bond exists between them.

However the truth is, that despite Hollywood's greatest efforts to prove us wrong, movie stars have never been like the rest of us. They were made to exist in a different level and as much as we're told that they're just another regular Joe, in reality they are people with whom we may never cross paths. This need to identify with them however should be restricted, or perhaps encouraged, only in those stars who also exude talent.

When said movie star is also talented, we learn to empathize with them, not through their love of mansions, sports cars and super models, but because of the humanity they infuse into their characters. Should a movie star then, be forgiven for his "sins" when they commit themselves to a deeply touching performance?

For starters, who gave the audience the authority to become a moral judge and do movie stars even need to be ethical beacons of decency? Why has separating the public from the artistic become such a difficult task?

Of course on several occasions, film personalities have used the medium to exorcise their public demons (or is it their demons in public?) and we have seen works of art like On the Waterfront arrive in the shape of what looked like an apology, or a justification for previous sins committed.

As usual, this need to separate the two aspects of a performer and to judge them accordingly is left best to each individual, but rarely has this reflection been as crucial to a product and its maker as it is in The Beaver.

After a long battle with alcoholism, outbursts of antisemitism and even domestic violence, Gibson is back with his first "serious" role in quite some time. Appealing to those who think of him, not as a movie star, but as an actor, Gibson plays Walter Black, the depressed CEO of a toy company who one day decides he has had enough.

His wife Meredith (Foster) has kicked him out of the house where she stays with their children Porter and Henry (Yelchin and Stewart), so Walter chooses to go by way of necktie hanging. Moments before, he had found a puppet in the form of a beaver, which he places on his hand. Walter attempts suicide only to wake up realizing that not only is he, well, still alive, but that the beaver has taken over him and is talking to him in a Cockney-by-way-of-Michael Caine accent. The beaver, who works as a therapist of sorts, helps Walter regain control of his life and soon he establishes that he will only address others through his beaver.

Those closer to him put up with his "talk to the hand" policy because they think it's healing him, although his son Porter begins to distance himself from his dad even more and then Walter begins to thrive in business as well (Jones plays VP to his CEO).

After a while though, like any medication, the beaver becomes a nuisance and Walter is in danger of fully losing his identity to a puppet.

As Harvey redux as the movie might sound, the truth is that The Beaver can be filtered through an array of different readings, most of which go beyond facile analysis of suburban farce and character through mental disease dissection.

For starters it becomes impossible to ignore the fact that in a completely meta way, The Beaver acts as Mel Gibson's own beaver. Is he trying to explain his irrational behavior through a movie where a character explains his irrational behavior through a character?

If so it would make sense that it was a commissioned screenplay right? However Kyle Killen's script had been making the rounds in Hollywood for years with nobody knowing exactly how to pull it off. Given to Foster, who is a truly accomplished director, the story is suddenly infused with tenderness, urgency and best of all: a lack of irony.

Foster excels at delivering a movie full of gimmicks that effortlessly overcomes them and feels like a modern take on Frank Capra. That she uses her friend Gibson is extraordinary because she brings out perhaps the greatest performance of his career. One that's both moving and scary to watch. Gibson fearlessly dives into insanity but often achieves sublime tiny moments where all you want to do is hug his character.

As Walter descends into madness, you might find yourself snickering more and more at how this character's path resembles the one of the actor playing him and the film can be studied as a postmodernist take on the public apology.

Is Gibson trying to defend his behavior and throwing out a public cry for help or is he merely trying to seduce us all over with his charm and inarguable talent?

One of The Beaver's most conflicting scenes has Walter being interviewed by Matt Lauer and here audiences have to decide whether they are watching Gibson or Walter, the effect of the movie depends on this, it's as simple as that.

On the other side, and perhaps much more interesting from an academic level, we have an exploration of gender, sexuality and their deep connection to words. We won't pretend that the film's title doesn't strike a funny bone from a childish, vulgar point of view. Especially when the film's title animal can also be used to make jokes about the director's private life (again, both angles can be linked).

What exactly made a beaver more appealing to the writer, than say, a dog or a mouse? As with everything in a movie, even if "subconsciously" done, there are no coincidences and the beaver becomes an embodiment of a feminine side which Walter needs to connect to in order to evolve.

Perhaps from a queer theory point of view, the beaver that takes over Walter is an expression of his deep desire to be someone he isn't. The movie never really hints at bisexuality or homosexuality but it makes it clear for us that Walter is leading an unhappy life that only this tiny furry thing can help. Using his hand in drag gives Walter a freedom he never thought he could achieve.

The inner struggles with masculinity are also expressed through Walter's relationship with Porter. Throughout the movie we see Porter keep a list of the reasons why he does not want to become his dad and the things that are taking him there so far.

What can make Porter so unsure about admiring his dad other than having him represent a facet of being a man, that he doesn't agree with? What son wants his father to have a beaver?

Porter is given a romantic interest in the shape of the always haunting Jennifer Lawrence (perhaps to reassure us of his heterosexual points of view) and while the film tries to give their subplot more importance, the center of the film is always the relationship between father and son.

Kudos to Foster for being capable of removing herself from the main themes and exploring the notions of masculinity with such delicacy. As the breach between father and son becomes wider, Foster suddenly makes a heartbreaking statement and shows us that sometimes the only way for different perspectives to come together is through a symbolic castration.

In the case of The Beaver it must be seen to be believed, especially because you never expect a whimsical movie about the suburbs to explore the issues of "being a 'man'" with such liberated honesty.

God of Wow-age.

I am simply dying to see this movie.