HardKnockLife210

The Intruder (L'Intrus), a film directed by French director Clair Denis, is the liberation of film. It follows its own spirit across time, space, and character. There may be a plot, but what I understood of that I picked up from the description on the Netflix DVD sleeve. Honestly, it's probably better to know nothing about the film before watching it, because then the viewer can set aside any and all expectations. The film demands that the viewer think, but also taunts the fact that he or she will not gain full understanding.

The human heart is the film's enigma. Every image questions its role, its nature, and its form. The heart is the intruder, that of the viewer and that of Louis. Louis' character is played by Michel Subor with the peace and mystery required by such a character. Honestly, anyone could've played Louis' character, if he or she possessed a wandering, willing, and comfortable heart. Yet Subor is the one featured here; he becomes the film, his identity is inseparable from it. Many of the film's images lingering in my mind revolve around his expressions, vocal but mainly physical.

The Intruder is poetic in its ability to capture the stillness and fullness of movement, but more fluid than any literature in the shape it refuses to take. "Surrealistic" has been a term used in describing this film, but perhaps "quasirealistic" is a more adequate term. Nothing in the film exists outside of the possibilities of reality; the simple omnipresent score confirms that by imagining in music the connection between heartbeat and dim light.

Watch the trailer a few times if you're attracted to visual imagery; see the film to see the consequences of the combination of verse and a grasping for freedom.

Brick, the new film from director Rian Johnson (May) and winner of the Originality of Vision Award at Sundance, is a film that follows the adventures of a high school student, Brendan (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a kind of self-appointed private eye. The trailer is enticing on the first viewing, but loses some of its power when viewed again. The previews for films with multiple nuances rarely capture exactly what they intend. Yet for all of the trailer's problems, it forewarns, probably unintentionally, that this is a film of contradiction. The first watch is enticing, the ones that follow reveal an ugly aspect that makes the film look silly. The contradictions in the film itself make it worth your while.

1. Noir, yet modern. Roger Ebert's quote reads: "Noir to its very bones!" Perhaps he's right. The film follows a single character who wants to solve a single mystery to avenge the death of someone he loves. A complicated trail leads him to pieces of the puzzle that fit perfectly together (see #6). The film has little to no bad language, which is uncommon (especially in films about teenagers) and hearkens back to another era. Yet there is a reason Johnson filmed in color. The events of the film, although surprisingly distant from modern technology, could only have happened in a modern world and could only have sprung from a modern mind. More on this in #3.

2. Keep up, yet slow down. Go see this film with your friends, preferably some people who aren't geniuses. Wait until the credits start (if they can wait that long), and see if the first sentences out of their mouths aren't questions. Chances are that there will be a string of queries in the film's wake. To be honest, I have a hankering for a second viewing myself, not just because I enjoyed the film but because there are definitely some unanswered questions. Johnson, who also wrote the screenplay, dares you to keep up. Yet the cinematography (Steve Yedline) and direction, even the acting, beg you to take a second look. The moments of peace, the deep breaths between the action, scream (irony intended) at the viewer to take in the beauty existent even in a world full of twists and brokenness.

3. High school students, yet independent. This is probably the contrast that, if you didn't like this film, turned you off. "These kids are in high school?" is probably another response you'll hear after the credits roll or have yourself during the film. Yes, it's unbelievable. There's no way this actually could have happened. Good. We got that out of the way. Nonetheless, Brick has enough fact, enough "truth," to ring true. Perhaps it takes place in the not-so-distant future; maybe its action occurs in another world. Regardless, the kids in the movie are in high school. But their actions are their own. There is hardly any mention of parents, and when there is, there is no question that they will never know or understand any of the film's happenings. This, too, contributes to the film's modernity.

4. Ugly, yet beautiful. See #2. What strange bedfellows are beauty and violence! 5. Good guy, yet very bad. This is the film's true brilliance, and the brilliance of other film noirs. You root for Brendan, the protagonist. You simply can't help it; you want him to win, to overcome the odds and come out victorious on the other side of things. But who is this guy? Why does he love Emily? Does he love Emily? What secrets lie in his past? What good will it do if he does find answers? Joseph Gordon-Leavitt embodies Brick's mystery, but also manages to capture the spirit of the likable hero. More on this in #6.

6. Mystery solved? Watch the movie and wait until the end. I don't want to spoil it for you. See this, especially if you're still young enough to feel it and old enough to appreciate it.

9 out of 10.

The following are the top ten reasons to watch Jean-Pierre Jeunet's quirky, interesting film:

10. You thought that Travelocity invented the roaming gnome.

9. To prove to yourself that this really isn't a chick flick.

Okay, so a lot more girls than guys have seen it. The main character is female. There is romance included in the film's plot. These are not good reasons for gentlemen and masculine women not to see this movie. You won't regret it unless your heart is made of stone.

8. This film is very different from most other French films.

Okay, so I think the Dardenne brothers' "The Son" is vivid piece of not-for-pure-entertainment, realistic drama. For those of you who may disagree, you'll probably enjoy this - shall we say - more entertaining film a whole lot more than you did that one.

7. You can most likely identify with Amelie in some way.

Well, technically, we can all relate in some way with any character put to film, but I feel strongly that there is something special and different in Amelie's character that causes her to embody our own longings for love – in the lives of others and in our own lives.

6. To see why it was nominated for so many Oscars.

Five nominations for a foreign film? Practically unheard of.

5. To get angry at the fact that it didn't win any Oscars.

Five unanswered nominations? For such an amazing film? Come on now.

4. Yann Martel's beautiful score.

Martel's score, romantic with a hint of sadness and mingled with joy, gives the film a lot of its beauty.

3. Jeunet's inspired direction coupled with Delbonnel's lush cinematography.

Jeunet's unconventional camera movement and Delbonnel's use of color keep your attention.

2. The irresistibility of Audrey Tautou.

You can't help smiling while watching her performance and your love for Amelie grows because of how she plays the part.

1. The irresistibility of the film itself.

Even if this movie isn't perfect, you can't help thinking so when it's all said and done.

Its IMDb rating is 8.7 is still perhaps a bit high, but the critics' average of 6.9 is much too low. Approximately 8.5 would be the most accurate rating for this film, so maybe Portland Oregonian critic Shawn Levy gave the most truthful review.

At least give this one a try.

So, you're not sure why you should be interested in watching a Czech film entitled Up and Down. The following are ten reasons why you SHOULD spend the time and money to watch this film.

10. It won the Czech Lion for Best Film Poster.

If that's not a good reason to watch a movie, I'm not sure what is. I mean, just examine its beauty. Actually, maybe in the Czech Republic, they used a different poster….

9. You've probably never seen a Czech film before, and this one is a heck of a lot better than the Oscar-nominated Zelary.

This film actually has characters in whom you are genuinely interested, unlike Zelary. This film's plot doesn't descend in muddled nonsense, like Zelary's does. But, hey, this one Czech actor (Jan Triska), is in BOTH films. Beat that.

8. Kristýna Boková is quite attractive.

Just when you thought that only Americans could be beautiful. Yeah…

7. It's only 1 hour and 48 minutes long.

Hey, if you don't like it, you've not even wasted two hours of your life. If you love it, watch it again, and you haven't even lost four hours.

6. The end credits.

No, seriously. I love the song played during them, and the cheap figurines add to the effect. In short, they allow you to contemplate what it was that you just saw.

5. The film's ending.

If only I could tell you about it without including a "spoiler."

4. Jan Hrebejk.

The direction isn't glamorous, but it doesn't need to be. His story is excellent, filled with vibrant characters caught up in a tragedy of hatred, need, and, surprisingly enough, comic occurrences.

3. The film's interesting understanding of American influence.

Perhaps what people not from America think of America is both more complex and more captivating than it seems at first glance.

2. You're not sure with whom to sympathize.

This film is not clear-cut, which makes the characters more intriguing.

1. Kentucky Fried Chicken.

You'll understand if you ever see it, but this element of the movie is sheer genius on the part of the writers.

The 7.4 from viewers is about right, making the 7.8 from critics a bit high, but I hope the above reasons will make you want to see it at least once.

Robert Rodriguez is something of an enigma. Take a look at what he's directed: Once Upon a Time in Mexico, the Spy Kids trilogy, Desperado, and now Sin City. Frankly, I don't think that Rodriguez has much of an identity as a director, except to use some sort of show-offy stylish direction in his action films. Sin City is more of the same, even though I would like to think that there is a method to Mr. Rodriguez's madness.

Sin City is indeed stylish, and is filmed in a way that is different any other film I have seen. Black and white are the two predominant colors, but Rodriguez (with the help of Miller and Tarantino) also infuses certain objects and body parts with color (eyes, blood, etc.). It was especially interesting to me why certain things were colored, while others were not. Again, I would hope that there is a specific and symbolic meaning behind each use of color, but I fear that color was used sporadically and spontaneously to catch the viewer's attention.

Indeed, this strikes me as a film dying to keep the viewer's attention for over two hours. Ultra-violence does just the trick, so Rodriguez makes sure that, every five seconds (literally), there is some kind of explosion or blood-splatter. If for some reason the violence misses its five second cue, there's always some nudity to add to the mix. On this level, the film is a repulsive bit of excrement.

Yet on another level, Miller and Rodriguez are merely going to extreme length to show the corruption of modern urban culture, where the good guys love violence and the bad guys love it too. There are no answers here, and the line is very thin between good and evil, so possibly this too is Rodriguez portraying his bleak view. There's also the mandatory Shakespearean reference that was of interest to me.

Then there's the acting and the dialogue. Again, I'm not sure whether the acting is just plain bad or if it is purposely cartoonish to fit the whole comic book scenario. The dialogue is the same way: performed in such a way as to set the mood for a stylized neo-film-noir.

Overall, I'm really not sure what to think of this film. On the one hand, it is viewer rape, a method of forcibly taking from the viewer every ounce of adrenaline he or she is worth by any means possible. On the other hand, it is a eye-catching statement regarding evil and total depravity.

Whatever Sin City is, it forced me to leave the theater feeling somehow cheated.

Final Grade: C+.

eXistenZ is one of those films that makes you laugh. It's not a comedy, though. In fact, it wants to be taken very seriously. I wanted to take it seriously, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. If you watch eXistenZ, you'll know why, and if you don't know why, then you should.

First of all, let me be fair and start out by saying that the opening credits sequence is very cool. It may even fool you into thinking that you're watching a decent movie. Appearances by Jennifer Jason Leigh, Jude Law, Willem Dafoe. Music by Howard Shore. Directed by the vaguely familiar name of David Cronenberg. Then the action begins, and you're ready for something cool to happen.

But it doesn't. Okay, maybe there are a few scenes that hold your attention and that remind you that you're supposed to be watching a mind-bending thriller, and not a repeat from the first season of Farscape. From the very beginning, the viewer understands that there's nothing hip or stylish about this film at all. Instead, the "new technology" in the film involves mutated reptile body parts. Sounds funny, right? Oh, it is.

The plot of the film involves a newly created virtual reality game that must be injected by some kind of umbilical cord-like mechanism into one's own back. The game cost millions of dollars to make, and the first testing begins, only to interrupted by an attempt to kill the game's creator, who also is at the game's first testing. The plot to kill the creator goes awry, a technician becomes the creator's protector, and the pair must enter the game to save the creator's disabled pod, a mechanism through which one enters the game. In other words, there is no plot. Then, after a short (thankfully) 90-some minutes, the film ends, and the ending tries to cover up any holes left in the plot.

The acting is poor from the first scene to the last, with only a few scenes where any talent is displayed whatsoever. The talent is mostly provided by Jude Law, but his acting inexperience is obvious. Reactions seem forced, and every scene is either under-acted or over-acted with hardly anything in between. The screenplay is on the same level. There are formulaic lines like, "trust no one," corny lines like, "I like your script," and downright horrible lines like "that's my pink phone." Add then some demented sexual double entendres, bad accents, and characters with no depth, and you have the essence of eXistenZ.

As for those who would defend such a film, they would perhaps look at the concept of the thin line between virtual reality and reality, and would hold up Cronenberg's statement regarding the consequences of blurring that line. These things are interesting to me as well, but if only they could've been examined with more intelligence and finesse.

It is quite funny, though, and if you're able to take science fiction TV shows seriously, then try this one on for size.

Final Grade: D.

Some films are weird beyond description. You could just call them unique or distinctive, but some are just plain odd. Pedro Almodóvar's Talk to Her is one of those films that, when it gets right down to it, is bizarre. Yet it is exactly that aspect of this film that makes it so memorable, albeit some of the memories are those I would rather forget.

The film really has four main characters, two of which are men and two of which are women. First is Benigno, a man who has lived almost his entire life taking care of a woman. The first woman in his care was his mother, and his constant attention toward her kept him from experiencing the real world. The woman in his care at a private clinic where he works is Alicia, a woman who has been in a coma for a long while. The full extent of Benigno and Alicia's relationship is developed on film, and it is indeed the oddest relationship ever to appear on screen. Javier Cámara's performance as Benigno is somewhat disturbing, but intriguing throughout.

Second is Marco, a journalist who is in essence the opposite of Benigno. Marco is one who has experienced the world around him, while Benigno is one who naively and curiously examines and experiences life because he knows so little about it. Marco is the boyfriend of Lydia, another woman who has fallen into a coma following a horrible accident. Their relationship is developed in a different method than that of Benigno and Alicia, but it too is intriguing nevertheless. Darío Grandinetti puts in a good performance as Marco, and the film continues to intrigue as the relationship between Marco and Benigno begins to develop as well.

Pedro Almodóvar's direction and screenplay are both incredible. He goes about things in such a away as to set himself apart from every other director and writer. It's hard to describe direction, but Almodóvar's is beautiful, colorful, and full of life. I do have a couple complaints, however. First, I do enjoy bizarre filming methods, but Almodóvar's examination of the female body and female pleasure no less than stained my mind with peculiar images that I could never forget even if I wanted to. Furthermore, I felt that, at points, the film progresses to quickly instead of allowing the viewer to soak up what he or she is witnessing on screen.

Overall, I've never seen a film so bizarre, yet so mysterious. I love Almodóvar's examination of life, and although the story is very complex, he somehow manages to remain focused on the many relationships and intricate characters he presents. There were moments of disgust for me, but there were also moments of great, yet subtle pleasures, such as the beautiful contrast between the beginning and the end of the film.

This definitely is not for all tastes, but if you're looking for something different, this is it.

Final Grade: B+.

Nowhere in Africa is a film, directed by Caroline Link, dealing with a Jewish family who must move to Africa in the midst of World War I. The Redlich family, made up of Jettel, Walter, and Regina, struggles to adjust and to understand the definition of home. In 2002, it won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film, and it won much critical acclaim.

I have never seen a film less deserving of an Oscar, any Oscar, much less one that carries with it so much prestige. The family struggles to find their identity, but the film has none of its own identity of which it can speak. The direction especially lacks any creativity. It is merely a foreign film that extracts many elements from movies that are actually relevant, and then throws them together in one horrible, stinking mess.

The acting is decent, but it holds little emotion, so to the viewer it seems sloppy. Every scene stands alone, and seemingly has little or no connection to the scenes surrounding it. If the audience could get an idea of who these characters are and why they are struggling, they might be more affected by the anger and sadness that appears on screen. In fact, there are so many random outbreaks of anger and sadness that the film becomes an irrelevant soap opera with random nude scenes to catch the viewer's attention. The screenplay too is filled with disgustingly simple and phony lines that steal away any remaining dignity this film may have.

Yet there were two memorable aspects of this film: the music and the scenery. The music was not mind-blowing, but it was at least unique enough to make the film stand apart (other than it being the worst Foreign Film Oscar-Winner I have ever seen). The scenery truly was beautiful, but I would much rather view it in a magazine or on the Discovery Channel than ever have to watch this garbage again.

Still, people probably defend this movie, because there are people everywhere who defend Oscar no matter what travesties he commits. These defenders would hold up the music and the scenery (as I have done), but they would probably also attempt to defend the film as a socially-relevant statement regarding the identity of those swept away to foreign lands during World War II by Hitler's regime. They would say that the film shows the struggle of finding oneself amidst a foreign culture that has so many different traditions.

I would say that I would gladly watch a film that does these things well, or even at all. Nowhere in Africa is merely a pathetic attempt to bring these important questions to the screen, but answers to these questions or even an involved examination of them is nowhere to be found in this movie that lacks any emotion, coherence, relevance, and life.

Final Grade: D.

The Sea Inside, directed by Alejandro Amenábar, tells the true and controversial story of Ramón Sampedro, a paralyzed man who fights for euthanasia to take his own life. Needless to say, not all agree with his decision, including many of his friends and family, along with some other key figures.

Sampedro is played brilliantly by Javier Bardem, and his every word is convincing and vivid. His imagination continues to thrive even as he wishes for death and longs to experience such an event. However, Bardem's character is far from one-dimensional, unlike the main character in other bio-pics, such as Kinsey. Writers Amenábar and Gil give so much life (ironic, isn't it?) to Sampedro in the material they provide, that we cannot help to sympathize with Sampedro, whether we agree with his actions or not.

The film's story is of little interest compared to the vivacious characters Amenábar portrays. Belén Rueda plays Julia, a beautiful and troubled woman who is Sampedro's lawyer. The development of her relationship with Sampedro is beautiful and artistic, and the film only becomes more beautiful when Julia discovers Ramón's magnificent poetry. Lola Dueñas plays Rosa, another influential woman in Sampedro's life, who wishes to be Ramón's friend, but who initially alienates him. Her troubles with her children and the men in her life constantly bring her back to Ramón, that he may comfort and console her.

The members of Ramón's family also are very alive, and play their individual roles gracefully and uniquely. There are no significant one-dimensional characters in this film, which is a rarely-experienced wonder when it comes to film. The dialogue of the characters help develop them, making them real and filling Sampedro's words with wisdom. Going along with the beautiful words is beautiful camera work by Amenábar and cinematographer Aguirresarobe.

The only problem I had with the film was its over-dramatization. The film works best when its subtle, not when there's quick-paced music and yelling and sobbing. The tears are more real when they flow silently, the music more moving when playing softly, and the dialogue more introspective when whispered and gasped.

As far as political messages go, I feel that the film stays pretty balanced, but as Sampedro continues to have a profound and wonderful effect on the lives of others, the viewer is left wondering how the death of this man can possibly have a good effect on the world he leaves behind. Maybe it is the sound of the sea inside Sampedro that drowns out the sound of the voices of those desperate for hope.

See it.

Final Grade: A-.

Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events, a "children's film" directed by Brad Silberling, tells the tale of the Baudelaire family, or what remains of it after the parents of Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire die in a fire. The film is told from Mr. Snicket's perspective, as an observer who gives his own perspective on events. From the beginning, the film warns the viewer that it will not be the happiest of films, and the film does have somewhat of a dark atmosphere, especially for young viewers.

So Violet, Klaus, and young Sunny (played by three youngsters), end up in the hands of Count Olaf (Jim Carrey), a villain who wants nothing but the Baudelaire riches. To receive the Baudelaire riches, Olaf makes several creative attempts at the children's lives. The film is very intriguing, as the children go from obscure relative to obscure relative to hide from their wicked uncle, and as Olaf thinks up new and hilarious disguises for himself. It's true that the film is dark, but it's not completely devoid of comedic material.

The set and costume design is indeed brilliant and is about as intriguing as the quirky relatives of the young Baudelaires. Sure, everything's cartoonish, but the film isn't exactly trying to be serious. Lemony Snicket's isn't completely lacking in commentary on society's attitude toward children and the current condition of the legal system, but if you're looking for something deep and thought-provoking, this isn't the movie to see. Plus, the situations are complicated enough to keep a child's mind working, instead of providing mere visceral pleasures.

Carrey does a pretty good job as Olaf, and Streep does a decent job as Josephine, too, but the children are slightly below average in their display of skill. Also, the characters of the children are mysteriously less developed than those of the minor characters, so the emotion that the children display seems strangely distant and empty.

Even though the film sometimes successfully displays a dark atmosphere throughout the film, I found the ending of the film disappointing in that it wraps everything up too nicely, putting any troubles that the children have visibly experienced into a more felicitous light. It becomes just another children's movie, although it be a more visually creative one.

So if you're looking for smart entertainment and something that you can show your kids, check this film out. Be sure you pay close attention to Thomas Newman's inventive music, and stay tuned for the brilliant credits.

Final Grade: B.

Vera Drake, and Oscar-nominated film directed by Mike Leigh, tells the story of Vera Drake, a woman living in 1950s Britain. Drake is pictured as a kind-hearted, caring woman who is willing to care for others and to "help girls out." She and her family must question her actions, however, when she is arrested for aborting the babies of young girls.

The strongest aspect of the film is Drake herself, or at least Imelda Staunton's portrayal of her. Her kindness gives her a kind of resilience that causes her to stand out from the rest of the characters in the film. The rest of her family is ever-aware of her love as well, and her children, Sid and Ethel, as well as her husband, George, realize her importance in their lives. All of the scandal erupts amidst a time of celebration, and the viewer is aware of the emotional vacuum that seems to be present when Vera is absent.

The second strongest aspect of the film is Leigh's wonderful, gritty direction. He draws several parallels in the film, yet he makes them so wonderfully subtle, as to make to viewer think. And think the viewer must, as we are presented with Vera's kind-heartedness in contrast to her life-endangering acts, and the tangible life of the girls in contrast to present, but near-invisible, but life of the babies in their wombs. Sure, conservative critics view Drake as a political, pro-choice piece of garbage, but Leigh does not make the film so straight-forward or so one-dimensional. He makes no one the clear villain, with the possible exception of two women: one who is evidently pro-choice and one who is evidently pro-life.

Yet amongst Leigh's thought-provoking images and parallels is Andrew Dickson's music, which at first is quite beautiful, and even troubling, but then takes a turn for the worst as the same theme is played over and over again, distracting from the rest of the film, which is purposefully silent. Also, I feel that, towards the end of the film, the conflict is made too simple and too rushed. Some scenes are unnecessary to the film, but I think Leigh is just further contrasting happiness and celebration with eventual tragedy.

I would encourage those who watch the film to look past the idea that this movie is mere political propaganda. We must examine Drake's character, see her motives, and question her actions, but also her heart. The questioning of one's own moral values should not be ceased, regardless of his or her political view. I think Leigh challenges the viewer, not to support abortion, but to support loving and caring for others, even when we disagree with their actions.

Final Grade: B+.

Open Water was filmed on a $130,000 budget by Chris Kentis. It tells the story of Susan and Daniel, a young couple who decide to go scuba diving with a small group. However, their boat leaves them and they are stranded out in the middle of the ocean. It sounds like an interesting idea, but I didn't know how long something so seemingly simple as two people wading out in the middle of the ocean could possibly take up 79 minutes of well-used time.

And it doesn't. It only takes up about 59 of those minutes. Kentis begins the movie with a bit of exposition, showing how Susan and Daniel maintain their relationship on land. Also, I think he tries to contrast the hard, appealing quality of the ground with the churning, sickening quality of the sea. On paper it does seem like a good idea, but it didn't translate onto film too well. The viewer is merely left with some odd camera movement, and two people who apparently have no real significance in their actions. Kentis had the bad idea of including a brief nude scene in this first twenty minutes as well, unneeded for the "R" rating and extremely pointless in its inclusion.

Yet after the near-insufferable, obviously low-budget beginning, the film truly begins. From the moment Susan and Daniel step onto their boat, the film becomes captivating and real. The cheap cameras and low-profile actors begin to work to the film's advantage, as the viewer begins to experience emotionally what Susan and Daniel experience. Their reactions to the occurrences around them are very human and very real.

No, neither Daniel Travis nor Blanchard Ryan deserve any kind of nomination for their respective performances, but, at the same time, the viewer never doubts that these two people are stranded in the middle of the ocean. Also, Kentis' strange camera techniques work much better in the water than on land, and they remind the viewer of all the ocean's beautiful and horrifying effects. Revell's original music is somewhat out of the ordinary, but it too fits the film well. Stay tuned for the compelling credits.

Really, Open Water was much better than expected. I was more emotionally involved in Open Water than I was Troy or most other large-budget films. The film plays with your mind and with your greatest fears. You feel as if you also are stranded out in the water with Susan and Daniel, and every glimmer of hope is as much yours as it is theirs.

Final Grade: B.

Ryan, an animated short by Chris Landreth, is on the most original and innovative pieces of animation I have ever seen. Not that I'm big into animation or anything, but how the characters are drawn (via computer) is unrealistic, yet oddly truthful, as if the shape of each character's face reveals something about him. The story of the film is actually told by Landreth himself, and regards his past, combined with bits of conversation with another innovative animator: Ryan Larkin.

The film is not the most focused bit of material, but it is extremely introspective. You see, Chris sees himself and the mistakes he has made in Ryan, who struggles with alcohol and poverty. The characters do not look real, but they are real, and they have something to reveal to the viewer, an important message of self-improvement and of the splendor of those whom we so quickly forget.

Final Grade: A.

7:35 in the Morning, a short film by Nacho Vigalando, gives us a woman, a café full of people, and a man. The movie is a song, sung by a man (and by the others in the café whom he forces to sing) who is afraid of approaching the woman to whom he sings. It's all fun and games until the viewer realizes that the man has a bomb strapped to his chest and could kill everyone at any moment.

The film displays a whole spectrum of human emotion, and that emotion is displayed in the woman, but also in the viewer. First, both the clueless woman and the viewer are stunned by the happenings in the restaurant, and then the viewer sees the whole event as a kind of hilarious romantic ballad dedicated to the woman. The woman's shock continues, and the viewer's laughter comes to an abrupt end with the revelation of the bomb. Then the woman is left with the memory of a man who says he loves her, but who is strangely suicidal and sadistic. The flattery of the man becomes strangely repulsive to both the viewer and the woman.

Final Grade: A.

Million Dollar Baby, is the newest, as of March 4, 2005, Best Picture winner at the Academy Awards. I am fairly pleased with its victory (I would've been thrilled if Sideways had won), although I am surprised that The Aviator didn't take the award (I'm glad it didn't). Anyways, it is film directed by Clint Eastwood, who is quickly establishing himself as a great director.

It is a film in the fashion of Eastwood's own Mystic River in that it explores a darker and grimmer side of human life. What made the film for me was Eastwood himself. Sure, in the trailer, he seems to be a caricature of the tough-guy boxing coach, but you must see the movie to see how Eastwood's acting skills help develop the character of Frankie Dunn. Eastwood's direction is gritty, realistic, and completely unashamed of the message he portrays through the lives of the characters on screen. Further, Eastwood's music (where's the nomination, Academy?) beautifully and heartbreakingly sets the tone.

The story is that of Maggie Fitzgerald (played INCREDIBLY by Hilary Swank with honesty and heart), an older (at least in the boxing world) woman who will only let herself be trained by one man, Frankie Dunn. Frankie's friend and the training center's janitor is Eddie Dupris, who is played by Morgan Freeman and who voices over much of the film (a la The Shawshank Redemption). These three actors so beautifully portray their characters that it approaches the indescribable.

One of the film's interesting points (although it is a slight downfall), is its use of somewhat one-dimensional characters. By this I mean, that the main characters rarely, if ever, show an evil side, while the enemies of these characters rarely, if ever, seem to contain even a bit of good. This is interesting to me because Eastwood is realistic, at least in the sense that he's not afraid to explore tragedy and evil, but he still uses some one-sided characters, seemingly to contrast the multi-dimensional (although they are ever-heroic), heartful characters.

The beauty of life, the wondrous escape of death, and shattered hopes are topics that Eastwood is so unafraid to portray, and this is somewhat refreshing to the viewer. Not everything has a simple solution, and Eastwood wants to show us that too, by ultimately offering the viewer a very troubling resolution.

Final Grade: A.

Annie Hall, a film from back in 1977 and winner at the 1978 Academy Awards of the coveted Best Picture prize, is a film directed by Woody Allen. It tells the story, or rather shows the viewers scenes from the story, of how Alvy Singer (Woody Allen) falls in love with and carries on a relationship with none other than Annie Hall (Diane Keaton).

The most innovative part of this film is its screenplay, so very unique in its randomness and in its straightforward quality. Allen isn't afraid to show exactly what Alvy is thinking, even if its means having him speak directly into the camera or showing his thoughts directly on screen. The film isn't about exciting moments and beautiful love scenes; rather, it's about two normal, abnormal people whose relationship is just as interesting as Hall and Singer themselves.

The direction, although it too won an Oscar, is rather simple, but just as direct as the screenplay is. Really, the screenplay is the only element that is complicated and unique, but Allen wants that screenplay and all that introspective dialogue to be the viewer's focus. This explains the lack of music and lack of flamboyant camera techniques.

For all the very, very funny parts of the film, there also seem to be a few large chunks of dialogue that leave the viewer scratching his head. The film isn't focused really, but I believe that it's focused in its blurriness. It focuses on Hall and Singer alone, not on a certain atmosphere; but what relationship does retain the same atmosphere throughout its entirety?

The film is so fresh in its exploration of all relationships, not just that of Annie and Alvy. Allen is obviously frustrated with elusiveness of pleasure, especially emotional pleasure in relationships between men and women. It forces the viewer to reminisce on both the bad and the good, just as Singer himself does, even though most of us may not be quite so innovative in our display of memory.

Final Grade: A-.

Bad Education is a film directed by Pedro Almodóvar that courts controversy in so many ways. It covers topics ranging from homosexuality to cross-dressing to the Roman Catholic Church to murder. Plus, it carries an NC-17 rating. It is true, that at certain points, this film is extremely gross and very hard to watch without retching.

Yet what stood out to me about the film is its style, so unique in its use of color. I haven't seen any other of Almodóvar's films, but this one kept my attention. Every shot seems specifically chosen for its desired effect. A swimming pool, a soccer field, and a Catholic Church all come to life through various camera techniques. It is filmed is in the Hitchcockian tradition (e.g., the wonderful music in the opening credits composed by Alberto Iglesias), yet it's definitely not some kind of rip-off. In fact, I have never seen anything quite like it.

Yet all this style means nothing without the interesting, yet repulsive screenplay, written by Almodóvar. The film tells the story of a screenplay (no, really), and its basis upon the schooling of Ignacio and Enrique in a Catholic school under the corrupt Father Manolo. It's carried along with such determination by the actors, among which are an excellent Gael Garcia Bernal, Fele Martinez, and Daniel Giménez Cacho. The plot twists occur suddenly, but subtly, as if Almodóvar expected us to realize they were there the entire time.

Again, I will mention the film's sickening quality, a quality that can be a necessity. With the subject matter in the film, I can understand it to a point, but sometimes it seems as if it is included merely for the purpose of appalling the viewer. I feel that the film also loses focus in its ending, retaining its style, but losing what seems the purpose of the rest of the film.

The film doesn't explore life to its core, but it does show a man who will go to any length to get what he wants, and several other characters who seem to fit in the same category. It is as if Almodóvar is disillusioned by so many things, and since he cannot see beauty in these things themselves, he uses his camera to inject beauty into them. The beauty is real, but somehow forced.

Final Grade: B.

Under the security blanket of America, we tend to forget or ignore the destruction that is occurring throughout the world. We may catch a glimpse of the danger present in foreign countries, but we put it off as out of our control. Yet Hotel Rwanda shows the viewer the tragic consequences of inaction in the face of genocide.

The main character of Hotel Rwanda is Paul Rusesabagina, a hotel manager who looks out for his family in Rwanda, and who stands as an innocent bystander in Rwanda's civil war between the Hutu and the Tutsis. The Hutu forces are on the attack, and although Paul is Hutu, he must take a stand to protect the Tutsis being persecuted. His wife, Tatiana, a Tutsi, does not face the situation as calmly as Paul, because she is very protective of her children. These two main performances are extremely impressive and bring a lot of the emotional power of the film as well as to the characters themselves. Supporting cast includes Nick Nolte as Colonel Oliver from the UN and Joaquin Phoenix as a cameraman who catches on film the atrocities of the occurrences outside the ever-crumbling walls of the hotel. Nolte does a very good job in his position of helplessness, but Phoenix puts in a far less-impressive bit role.

The screenplay, written by Keir Pearson and Terry George is very good, and the dialogue shows the strength of a few, the helplessness of many, and the evil of those who started executing innocent people out of their own selfish ambition. The film reminds us, albeit through simple direction, of the destruction of which we as human beings are capable, but it also shows us the power of love for others. Some parts of the film are so hard to watch and so emotional, that one cannot help but remember them vividly. The power of Gregson-Williams' and Guerra's score stands out especially in such scenes.

If only films with such heart could be made without flaw! Although the flaws are outweighed, in my mind, by the film's message and stunning images, they must be mentioned. As I alluded to earlier, the acting of those in smaller roles is below par. Also, there seemed to be a kind of alacrity of direction throughout the film, as if George were attempting to speed through the film. This does not take much from the film's power, but the viewer is left with little time to take in each specific scene in order to understand the movie as a whole. Further, the song played in the credits, "Million Voices," seems poorly hashed together, so that the viewer cannot think to his full potential upon the film in all its intensity.

Ironically enough, the film's strength increases when we see that we too are in a sense responsible for the genocide in Rwanda, because we leave the theater still unwilling to take action to help the helpless. The film is sadly flawed, but incredible in its message and force.

Final Grade: B+.

There are movies like Army of Darkness that poke fun at themselves and get some laughs along the way. There are movies like Scary Movie that pretty much play out as a long sequence of gross jokes. But then there are the very rare films (like Shaun of the Dead) that belittle entire genres of movies while still showing life of their own, creativity, and a kind of weirdness that can't help but entertain.

Shaun of the Dead gives us Shaun, a hero of all heroes, who must save the world from zombies that bite people to turn them into zombies themselves. Shaun's tragic flaw is his friend, Ed, who pretty much sits around all day and does nothing, but he and Ed need to rescue Shaun's mom (and stepdad) and Shaun's ex-girlfriend (and her flatmates). None of the performances are especially dramatic, but all actors, in both major and supporting roles, do quite a good job.

Everything is done in jest, with kind of an obviously feigned seriousness that makes the film all the more hilarious. Also, a brilliant comparison near the beginning of the film gives it creative flavor and strikes interest with the viewer. The characters' reactions to the zombies, especially the reactions of Shaun and Ed, are very similar to the reactions of regular characters in zombie films, but satirical enough to draw many laughs. There are some specific scenes that stand out as especially creative and bizarre, but they must be viewed for full effect.

The direction, then, by Edgar Wright, isn't earth-shattering, but it's adequate for the subject matter, and I, personally, enjoyed the non-original music selections at place in the film. The film's strongest point is its screenplay, but it does contain some confusion for the viewer. For instance, there are certain points in the film that approach the realm of the sentimental, and the viewer cannot figure out whether what's on screen is meant to be viewed jokingly or meant to evoke sympathy for these brilliant characters. And even though the film is very, very funny, there are lines, especially those that make use of scatological humor, that are very not funny and leave a sour taste in the viewer's mouth.

Yet this movie entertains almost to its full potential. Don't watch if you're looking for something profound or classic, but definitely take in a viewing of Shaun of the Dead if you're looking for a comedy that's pretty smart and often hilarious and creative.

Final Grade: B.

Life is a mystery, and within that mystery are mysteries of their own. Chinatown is the mystery film of all mystery films, and J.J. Gittes nearly outdoes Sherlock Holmes himself. Yet the mysteriousness that is contained in every waking moment and in every human being is also explored in Chinatown.

Chinatown tells the story of Private Investigator J.J. Gittes, who does dirty work for husbands, wives, boyfriends, and girlfriends to find out for them if their significant other is involved romantically with somebody on the side. A woman comes into Mr. Gittes' office and asks him to investigate her husband, who is named Hollis Mulwray. Mr. Mulwray just happens to be a man with a very important position in the city of San Francisco.

Mr. Gittes' investigation takes twists and turns, and each one causes the viewer to yearn for more action and mystery. Yet the investigation means nothing without Gittes, who is played quite brilliantly by Jack Nicholson. It is Gittes who seems to be more of a mystery than that which he is trying to solve (even though that which he investigates is captivating indeed), and Polanski's exploration of the human mystery is breath-taking and thought-provoking. Speaking of Polanski, his direction is wonderful, creative, and eye-catching, but not flashy to the point of distraction.

The screenplay is very smart as well, and it takes ahold one's attention and attaches it to the story and characters at hand while including enigmatic elements. Further, what I have failed to mention is that the film takes place not in the 1970s, but in the 1920s or 1930s. Roman Polanski's score, the design of the credits, and the accurate set and costume design fit perfectly into that era.

The only problem with this film is some acting difficulty on the part of the supporting actors, but these problems are merely a mote of dust on the beautiful waters of Chinatown. THIS IS A MUST-SEE.

Final Grade: A.

Controversial subjects usually make for interesting movies, and American History X courts controversy in so many ways by examining neo-Nazis, racism, prison violence, and school violence all in the same movie. So American History X is a very interesting film, but it is executed so haphazardly that it becomes hard to enjoy, and it loses most of its potential and some of its power in the process.

The film examines the life and crimes of Derek Vinyard (Edward Norton) through the eyes of his younger brother, Danny (Edward Furlong), both whom are "involved" in the neo-nazi movement. In exactly what ways they are (and were) involved are examined in the film, much of which is told through flashbacks. It is evident that these two boys have forced much hardship upon their families, evident in the performance of Beverly D'Angelo as the boys' mother. However, the performances of both Norton and Furlong, although adequate, are short of spectacular.

Much of the action of the film is shot in pain-staking slow motion, making everything so over-dramatic that it's almost laughable. McKenna's screenplay is indeed interesting at points, but some of it too gets caught up on formulaic statements and unneeded dialogue. Many of the scenes seem unneeded and seem to need replacement by scenes that give more insight into Danny's mindset. Instead of these scenes, though, the viewer is left with a character who seems somewhat one-dimensional.

Even with the slow motion, Kaye's direction and cinematography are unique enough to grab the viewer's attention, even when it does distract from the rest of the film. Also, the film is thought-provoking in its examination of racial matters, especially as we see through the eyes of characters so prejudiced. Further questioning and thought is provoked by the movie's ending, which is both beautiful and shocking in such an odd way that it almost makes the whole film worthwhile.

It is obvious that this film is unashamed to say what it wants to say. Yet it's still a shame that American History X was not caught on film as something more powerful and profound in its display.

Final Grade: B-.

A fable, especially when transferred to film, can be a beautiful thing. It becomes even more beautiful in contrast to the horrors of reality all around it. But not only can a fable be beautiful, it can be hilarious, heart-warming, and heart-breaking, and Life Is Beautiful shows us a wonderful film that is all of these things.

Life Is Beautiful gives us Guido Orefice, a Jewish man who is innovative, brilliant, and extremely funny. He works for his uncle in Italy in pre-WWII Italy, before all mayhem breaks loose. He meets a female school-teacher, Dora, whom he entertainingly wins over. Years pass, a son is born, Eliseo, and the threesome is seized and taken to a concentration camp, where Guido refuses to give up hope.

Roberto Benigni is incredible in his performance as Guido, who works against the odds, out of his overwhelming love. Nicoletta Braschi does a good job too in her role as Dora, and the biggest surprise of all is little Giustino Durano's solid performance as Guido's son. These three characters are so rich and captivating, and most of the minor characters too are strong, but a few of the characters with tiny roles seem strangely unmotivated and seem to take away the tiniest bit of magic from this film.

Benigni's direction and co-writing with Cerami, though, is terrific, and reminiscent of classic films. It's all so beautiful, so warm, real, and full of color, that one can't help but immediately fall in love with the film. It never loses its ability to entertain, but it never loses its sense of reality, either, making it lovely and strangely horrifying simultaneously. Piovani's score is excellent as well, and displays the atmosphere of a fairy tale in its haunting beauty.

Life is Beautiful is exactly what a film should be all about, and it never loses its focus: human emotion that within which lies the beauty of life.

Final Grade: A.

Insanity can be a hard thing to grasp, but often it is even harder to witness it, to see it portrayed unabashedly. Yet insanity becomes all the more real and all the more scary when there's some truth in the thoughts of the insane. Niels Mueller takes a twisted, but striking view of reality and throws it into the viewers face in The Assassination of Richard Nixon.

This film, "inspired by a true story," gives us Sam Bicke, a struggling salesman, disenchanted by the world around him. The world truly does crumble around him, as he attempts to work things out with his close friend Bonny and his wife Marie. Acceptance is a rare thing for Sam, and when he stumbles upon it, he seems to mess it up quickly.

Bicke who begins as a moral man and slowly declines into despondency, is played by Sean Penn, in a brilliant and powerful performance. As the tragedy flashes before the viewers eyes, it becomes so very real thanks to Penn in all his madness. The supporting performances are not as powerful, but strong nevertheless, as Don Cheadle plays Bonny, Naomi Watts plays Marie, and Jack Thompson plays Jack Jones, Sam's boss.

The story is striking, thought-provoking, and captivating, but it does fail in one sense: it does not try to explain Bicke's relationship with Leonard Bernstein, a composer to whom Bicke reveals his plans. Instead, from the very beginning, the film merely throws Bernstein's name into the mix. Also, Mueller's direction is superb for the most part, but near the end of the film, the direction becomes chaotic and almost desperate. Although this may fit perfectly the inner turmoil of Bicke, it seems to distract rather than enhance.

All in all, this film is an achievement on so many different emotional levels, but sadly was blatantly snubbed by both the 2005 Golden Globes and Oscars.

Final Grade: A-.

"Music without emotion is like a gun without bullets," says Professor Yu to young violinist Liu Xiaochun. And that's what this film is: a study of emotion, music, and the relationships that bring music and emotion together.

The story revolves around a son's relationship to his father, as his father takes the boy to Beijing to become rich and famous as a violinist. The boy, Liu Xiaochun, played by Yun Tang, seems to have all odds against him: a peasant's background, a careless teacher (Prof. Jiang, played well by Zhiwen Wang), and a troubled young woman (Lili, played by Hong Chen). The boy seeks to overcome these odds with the help of his father, played by Peiqi Liu, who puts forth the best performance in the film.

The film carries with it a sort of "fairy-tale" atmosphere that celebrates music and family. The music played in the film is indeed beautiful, and the highlights of the film occur in scenes where wonderful classical music is played. The direction by Kaige Chen is also very good, especially in one particular scene in the train station near the end of the film.

Nevertheless, where Chen succeeds as director, he fails as a writer. As you may be able to see from the quote I have placed at the beginning of this review, the screenplay, written by Chen and Xiao Lu Xue, is full of generic material, mixed with some Americanization, which is frustrating because most people watch foreign films to escape familiarity. Although the acting of Wang and Liu is superb, the acting on the parts of the other characters is not always so solid, and that fact may be due to the poor screenplay with which they are forced to work. Furthermore, the fairy-tale atmosphere, although suitable, takes away from some of the films "should-be" powerful reality, especially in relation to the conflicts in the film.

Overall, though, this one is worth your time, although it's sad that the most powerful moments in the film are derived from music written centuries ago.

Final Grade: B.

Men with the most money get the most attention, especially when they're involved with Hollywood. One of these men was Howard Hughes, a man who faced barriers from without and within. The Aviator does a pretty good job of capturing this man on film, but the movie still has some barriers of its own.

The Aviator does not begin at the beginning of Hughes' life; rather it picks up in the midst of Hughes' production of Hell's Angels. And just like Hell's Angels, there's never a moment in the film that's boring. In fact, all 170 minutes are captivating. There are so many big-names behind this film that one can't help but be awed. Alec Baldwin, John C. Reilly, Willem Dafoe, Jude Law, Ian Holm. Standing out, though, was Cate Blanchett as Katharine Hepburn, eccentric in her performance, but only as eccentric as Hepburn herself.

Furthermore, Scorsese's direction and Richardson's cinematography are both excellent and pleasing to the eye throughout the film. Also, Shore provides a score that captures the excitement of aviation alongside the tragedy of Hughes life. The screenplay, sets, and costumes also seem to fit the time period very well.

Now, on to DiCaprio's performance. Overall, I felt that he did a very good job in his very tough role as a deeply-troubled man whom no one ever understood. However, at the beginning of the film, he just seems to be Leonardo DiCaprio, not Howard Hughes. Maybe this is because the film delves right into the action and the viewer cannot even start to grasp Hughes' character until later in the film. Needless to say, though, as Hughes ages, DiCaprio seems to embrace the character fully and without restraint. One other complaint I have regards a certain transition in the film that I found hard to believe, and it has to do with the mental state of Mr. Hughes, but I cannot discuss it in full here because it may spoil the film for potential viewers.

Anyways, this is a must-see, in turns entertaining and disturbing. The ending is a beauty.

Final Grade: A-.