Short Take: "Take Shelter", "Margin Call" and "Texas Killing Fields"

In Take Shelter, Michael Shannon plays Curtis, a man who is having constant apocalyptic visions, and can you blame him? With the world going through one of its most severe cases of economic, cultural and sociological

crises, he would need to be heavily sedated to be optimistic. This is the film's magic, how writer/director Jeff Nichols transports all these feelings of impending doom and crafts with them, not a preposterous ode to negativity but an intelligent psychological portrait about the way in which our subconscious manifests its fears.

The film isn't clever because we wonder whether Curtis' visions are signs of insanity or actual premonitions, but because of the way in which Shannon taps onto the fear of losing one's mind when trying to remain a responsible member of society. The film is almost socialist in the way it so fixates itself on work, as Curtis builds a shelter to protect his family (the ubiquitous Jessica Chastain plays his wife and is nothing short of perfect). Nichols crafts a workman symbolism as we see, construction worker, Curtis dig deep down into the ground to escape from a sky that for the first time seems to be noticing him. He's trying to escape doom by working harder. Now how's that for a pitch perfect snapshot of our times?  

Margin Call deals with the corruption that goes behind the stock market and emphasizes on the "thrills" that make Wall Street such an adored object of Hollywood's attention. Why not make a comedy about  this for once? The film doesn't really contribute anything new to the genre with Penn Badgley and Zachary Quinto playing the wide eyed virgins willing to sell their soul to get a piece of the pie and Kevin Spacey and Jeremy Irons playing larger-than-life monsters who control everything with their ruthlessness and suspenders. The ensemble is quite effective (despite having the likes of Simon Baker and Demi Moore in its ranks) but the film's lack of actual excitement makes it endlessly dull.

Oy, Sam Worthington really needs blue aliens or Keira Knightley to turn in semi-decent performances, playing a violent detective in Texas Killing Fields does him no favors, but then again the material does none of the actors any favor (although Jessica Chastain somehow manages to deliver the goods). This serial killer flick had all the makings of a B-gore fest, but everything is so overdone that its intention to be some sort of feminist essay bites in the back by becoming endlessly stereotypical and cliché. The film was directed by Michael Mann's daughter and one would wish she had inherited some of her dad's stylish eye for crime movies.

Grades
Take Shelter ***
Margin Call **
Texas Killing Fields *

I Did It All for the Nucky.

Last year like everyone else I was thrilled when it was announced that Marty was directing the pilot for a new HBO show. When said show arrived I gave it a try once and never bothered to return. As it's tradition, the Golden Globes showered the new kid in town with awards and so did the SAG eventually. Then a few weeks ago when Emmy nods were announced, Boardwalk Empire led the way. I couldn't help but wonder what was I missing on that everyone else loved so much.

Unlike a show like Game of Thrones for example that got me so hooked I devoured the whole first season in a day, this one did nothing for me. At the insistence of my buddy Andrew (who recently got me hooked to Parks and Recreation like a crack whore, on well, crack) I got my little hands on the entire first season and recently made my way through every single ep.

If there's something I pride myself in is my ethics when it comes to discussing popular media. I refuse to discuss something I haven't seen in its totality, so I held my peace and now can talk freely about the show.

I guess one of the main reasons why the show never truly clicked with me is because I've never been much into the crime and gangster genre, I respect but don't love The Godfather for example, but hold your breath, so I had a slight bias when watching this show. I was pleasantly surprised by the way in which the writers create some fascinating characters like the one played by Jack Huston (pictured above). I of course loved, loved, loved when they link his character to The Wizard of Oz (the book, not the movie obviously) and for all his precision as a cold blooded murderer, there's a sense of possibility in his story.

Of course I loved Kelly Macdonald's Margaret, as the soul of the show she has the difficult task of being both a symbol and a human but there's nothing this woman can't do. This could've been another take of her troubled wife from No Country for Old Men but she turns her into something more, something that tempts me to come back next season.

Also, I'm a sucker for a Scottish accent.

Now most of what bugs me about the show is how uneven it is and how it relies so much on mediocre actors to carry, take Paz de la Huerta for example, sure she has amazing boobs and is quite hot but I felt her Lucy lacked the slutty selfawareness of someone who uses her looks to get ahead. Same goes for Michael Pitt, who as Andrew himself said is just a poor man's version of Leonardo di Caprio. Those two are the weakest links in a truly outstanding ensemble that somehow never really shines as a coherent whole. The best scenes are always the one in which Macdonald interacts with others.

Oh and Michael Shannon is all sorts of terrific as a slightly psychotic bureau agent trying to get his hands on the mob. I love his character and therefore I was surprised when this happened:

One of my favorite characters doing my least favorite character and then leading to something that promises to tie the characters closer together next season...I have a full month to decide if I wanna invest more time with these characters (new season begins September 25th)

Oh and as far as my blasphemy goes, I much prefer Tim Van Patten's directorial work in Game of Thrones than Marty's in this.

Where do you stand on Boardwalk Empire? Care to convince me to like it or do you support my cause?

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call-New Orleans ***

Director: Werner Herzog
Cast: Nicolas Cage, Eva Mendes
Val Kilmer, Jennifer Coolidge, Fairuza Balk, Brad Dourif
Michael Shannon, Shawn Hatosy, Denzel Whitaker, Xzibit
Shea Wigham, Irma P. Hall, Tom Bower

Lieutenant Terence McDonagh (Cage) is the kind of man that would drive a car from New Orleans to Biloxi, to deliver his father's (Bower) dog to his prostitute girlfriend Frankie (Mendes) while taking care of a young crime witness (Whitaker) and snorting cocaine.
He is also the kind of man who gives Nicolas Cage the opportunity to ensue in the kind of deranged brilliance few actors can achieve like he does, when he's given the chance.
His performance is an exercise in excess and contradiction: while investigating a massacre Terence seems more frightened of a couple of iguanas than drug dealing thugs armed to their teeth.
He roams the Big Easy with a hunch (due to a spinal condition that keeps him in constant pain) and tells everyone to fuck themselves if they come in between him and his plans, which usually involve getting drugs or money to pay his bookies.
At one point his superior reminds him "you can not get away with that cowboy shit anymore", emphasis on the anymore as Herzog contemplates how the always decadent, but once glorious city fell under the wrath of Katrina and became a boiling pot for crime and corruption.
He's not talking about New Orleans exclusively but about a whole world that is becoming known for the evils that lurk in unexpected places always pushing the boundaries.
A world that's saying to us "think I can't get away with this?".
It's because of this world that an authority figure like Terence can get away with raping a girl while threatening her boyfriend with a gun and a drug lord (Xzibit) is suspected of trafficking but not murder.
Herzog fills his movie with red herrings that hook us as we become fascinated by Terence's behavior.
With Cage, the German iconoclast creates one of the funniest characters to come out in the past decade, all while paying tribute to a genre that's dying precisely because we know now that the good guys and heroes rarely come in uniforms.
Their vision of the world might not be optimistic, but sometimes we just have to take them in whatever shape they come in.

Revolutionary Road ***

Director: Sam Mendes
Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Kate Winslet
Kathy Bates, Michael Shannon, Zoe Kazan, David Harbour
Kathryn Hahn, Richard Easton

The suburbs have been the mythical creature of innumerable films; it's within the picket fences and tree lined roads where some of the darkest machinations behind American culture have occurred.
Seen by the cynical as the place where dreams go to die, the notion that anyone who holds esteem towards these values is a killer robot or an alien has spoken more about the people who say it, than their actual discourse has done for them.
But when we are invited to view them under a critical light in a context that includes several other variables instead of just one accusing finger, the suburbs can turn out to be much more complex than we'd imagined.
And to explore this ambiguity seemed to be the intention of Sam Mendes' "Revolutionary Road", an adaptation of Richard Yates' cult novel about the Wheelers, Frank (DiCaprio) and April (Winslet), a couple who moves to the suburbs where they find their dreams crumbling before their eyes.
Frank works as an "executive" in a city based company where not even he's sure of what he does, while April stays home looking after the house and their children.
They socialize with the neighbors which include real estate agent, the gossipy Mrs.Helen Givings (an excellent Bates), her son John (Shannon) who has recently been released from a mental institution and the Campbells, Shep (Harbour who does miracles with the little scenes he's given) and Milly (Hahn).
The Wheelers find comfort in their knowledge that they're above everyone else. That the executive lunches, martini breaks and egg salad sandwiches are just a waiting room for the grand life they have ahead of them.
But when April realizes they are slowly giving in to convention, she takes action and comes up with a plan for them to move to Paris where she will work while Frank "finds himself".
Early on the film announces it will be mostly about marital problems and for this it becomes a showcase for its two lead actors who are phenomenal.
DiCaprio, ever more maturing, imbues Frank with the kind of fear only lessened by the fact that you may have seen it in people you know.
His eagerness to please and a sense of "deserving" everything promised with post-WWII America, but not getting it or at least not in the way he expected, touches on a sensitive part of you.
With April, Winslet goes for earnestness avoiding the melodrama one would come to expect from a hysterical housewife. She throws tantrums and most of the time sparks up fights she knows she shouldn't be holding, but there is something remarkably human about April that makes these things comprehensible, maybe the fact that a sense of emasculating her husband is one of the only things that make her feel alive.
Her eyes often wonder "how did we get here?" and her nuances are what give April the soul the movie never obtains. Talking to a friend she confesses how "she wanted in" not escaping and in the same scene she goes from moving and confessional to raw and sexual without us expecting it.
Eventually we wonder if April is putting on a performance all the time. Winslet taps into this element to make us doubt our very surroundings.
DiCaprio and Winslet convey this angst beautifully and turn "Revolutionary Road" into the movie that chronicles the implicitness other dysfunctional suburbia films have taken for granted.
Shannon's character then comes and questions everything about the Wheelers in a way nobody else dared to, think of him as a contemporary viewer interceding for all who have doubts about why people choose these lives.
Because if there is something true about the film is that its themes are as relevant as ever. John whose insanity might receive a milder diagnosis nowadays, has so many questions that he can't contain them and Shannon holds up remarkably well, given how other actors would've dealt with this character.
He represents a rage that most would opt to hide and in his final scene creeps under your skin and gives the film what ultimately becomes it's one undeniable truth.
Mendes crafts a work that is easy to admire, giving it a nice structure and an adequate pace, if the symbolism is nothing too new (enough with the pastels and light! Give us a film about suburbia inspired by German Expressionism!), it's talking to us in the only terms the director knows how and this is perhaps because even he's unsure of what he's trying to say.
The director puts out a troubling representation of traditional values, that nevertheless offers no option. It's like a window to hell from inside a burning house.
If he gets one thing right is the idea that the one thing humans can share is their misery, especially in the last scene where he tries to send us away with an ironic wink at a how it all will become a vicious cycle, but feels more like how Frank is described at the beginning of the film "a smartass with a big mouth" or camera in this case.
Throughout the film something that remains constant is the carelessness for the children, they are barely featured and the characters themselves' are rarely asked for opinion.
They appear purely as accesories and perhaps without trying Mendes makes the most lasting impression with them.
By not taking them into account he makes their consequent story the only one we're dying to hear.