What Movie Have You Seen Today?

Still Alice from 2014, a deftly devastating portrayal of early-onset Alzheimer’s and its impact on the individual and her family. The film affected me so much that I couldn’t sleep that night.

I was surprised to learn about one of the co-directors, Richard Glatzer, having ALS and being unable to speak. Watching the “making of” documentary was a remarkable revelation of how everyone, cast and crew alike, made this work.

There was one scene among the deleted scenes that I wish they could have kept in, because it showed the intrusion of the disease into Alice’s professional life. This scene made it clear how intelligent and incisive she had been, and what Alzheimer’s was inexorably stealing from her, her colleagues and her students.

Julianne Moore is amazing in everything I’ve ever seen her in. I think the first time I saw her was in Magnolia, still one of my favorite films. (Though, in my opinion, neither she nor Anthony Hopkins could redeem Hannibal, which I felt was just cashing in on The Silence of the Lambs success. Same with Red Dragon. That whole franchise was, for me, an unfortunate development … though, given its box office success, I’m sure the studio was quite happy with it. I’m probably alone in this, but I consider Michael Mann’s Manhunter to be a vastly superior film adaptation of Thomas Harris’s Red Dragon novel.)

Enough about that. Though this train of thought reminds me: We recently rewatched a film I have long loved: 84 Charing Cross Road from 1987. Anthony Hopkins has done so much brilliant work. But here he shines in a movie about letters, which must be one of the most challenging subjects to depict in a movie. I’m guessing that at least half of the film is done in voice-overs. He and Anne Bancroft (plus Judi Dench in a supporting role that still surprises me because of how subdued her character is) are so skilled that I find myself forgetting about the voice-overs.

The only part that doesn’t quite work for me is the ending. The film was based on a stage play, which in turn was based on Helene Hanff’s book of correspondence between herself and a London bookseller. There are a few instances of breaking the fourth wall, including one at the end. I have a feeling it worked better in the stage play than in the film. But I find the rest of the film deeply moving, nostalgic in a way that perhaps is over-romanticized, and yet it resonates with me.

And, speaking of Anthony Hopkins, I’m sure The Father has been discussed here. I rewatched that a while back. It’s another heartbreaking portrayal of the impacts of Alzheimer’s disease and dementia. Olivia Colman is stellar, as always, but Hopkins delivers a stunningly believable performance.

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Get Out, 2017 horror film written, co-produced and directed by Jordan Peele. What a brilliant directorial debut! I love any film that makes me think, and when one from the horror genre achieves that, I appreciate it. It also stimulated lots of emotions, mostly sadness and dismay at what the main character goes through. I may not be able to sleep tonight. I’ll be contemplating this one for a good long while.

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Anatomy of a fall

This year’s critics‘ darling and Oscar winner for Best Original Screenplay is, IMO, a terribly overhyped reheating of a 90‘s „did she or didn’t she“-thriller, made like a German tv movie, incredibly talky, at least an hour too long, with horribly underdeveloped main characters and supporting characters who remain ciphers. German theatre star and this year‘s overhyped actress Sandra Hueller is very good in the leading role but not the revelation some critics insisted she is. The young actor who plays her 11 year old son is much better and more subtle. Was that script award worthy? Not in my mind.

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Hyperbole much, too?

Didn’t see the movie, but every clip and trailer I saw of it reminded me of exactly that. Maybe we both see it that way because we grew up on the stuff (and are old enough to remember the days of only three TV channels) :laughing:

Let’s hope* that this doesn’t turn into a trend and German TV movies become the Hollywood critics’ new favorite type of movies. Unlikely, but we also saw a guy we mostly knew from a couple of TV roles and for playing Roy Black turn into Hollywood’s beloved villain-du-jour, double Oscar winner and mediocre Bond villain… :flushed:

*actually, let’s not, because I guess there’d be one or the other interesting job in it for you, should it happen :wink:

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No, because I gave reasons for my opinion.

Oh, yes, I‘m sawing the branch again on which I am sitting. Self-sabotaging is my specialty.

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That may well be it. I enjoyed the film without loving it when I saw it at the New York Film Festival, but it has stayed in my memory, and now reached the point where I want to see it again (which was not my immediate response). A second viewing may reveal hollowness, or increase my admiration. As always, I will let you know.

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Since you have seen it I can ask these questions:

Summary
  • how can Sandra have had a relationship with her lawyer years ago when she hates her husband for dragging her to his hometown where this lawyer apparently works?

  • why is the 11 year old son more logically and methodically asking questions?

  • why is the film so damn long? A shorter running time (cutting too longwinded speeches in the courtroom and the poisoning of the dog as an explanation for the boy to believe the mother‘s vomit story which could have been solved differently and better) would have been a huge benefit. Also, the plot point of Sandra alienating her husband’s friends in the village is important, yet we never get to see them at all. They would have reacted to his mysterious death, yes?

Sorry for my delay in responding:

Summary

how can Sandra have had a relationship with her lawyer years ago when she hates her husband for dragging her to his hometown where this lawyer apparently works?

I do not see why she could not have. Maybe the relationship happened elsewhere?

why is the 11 year old son more logically and methodically asking questions?

Because most other characters believe that Sandra did kill her husband. They are not open to the possibility that she may not have.

why is the film so damn long?

I did not find it long, but then I was enjoying it.

Also, the plot point of Sandra alienating her husband’s friends in the village is important, yet we never get to see them at all. They would have reacted to his mysterious death, yes?

May I suggest that the issue here is one that occurs for me sometimes: you would have done it differently, and questions important to you were not answered/addressed. I do not see any loss in not showing the neighbors reactions, or even the neighbors. But I sense that you found the film thin–both psychologically and sociologically–and, at the same time, overlong despite this thinness.

For me, the film was a series of interlacing webs that the Sandra was caught in–various power games/strategies being played out by the different characters. The son, who is visually-impaired, may be the only one who wants to see the truth–or at least attempt to. Heavy-handed symbolism? No doubt. But there is something allegorical/schematic here–as in the film’s obvious predecessor ANATOMY OF A MURDER, which could be (and has been) critiqued in much the same way.

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You‘re right - my opinion is influenced by my ideas about the film.

Summary

However, the film does raise many issues as important plot points and then forgets about them.

I also never understood why the lawyer arrives, asks the right questions, and then seems to fall for Sandra again, despite her suspicious behavior. He becomes a very one dimensional character, completely smitten with her, and he only wins the case because the boy raises a question. Even the district attorney, who deliciously picks apart everything with reason for the whole duration of the court scenes, gets sidelined after the boy‘s doubt.

It all just felt to me like an early draft of the script which should have been developed more.

And the point of the film that we always get one part of the truth but never the whole truth is, to me, old hat but also, in this particular story, a construct which only works because the filmmakers deliberately withhold the whole truth. Either Sandra lies or she does not. By not telling that truth the filmmakers take the easy way out.

Wouldn’t it have been so much more interesting to have her be exposed as the murderer, yet at the same time making us understand and feel for her?

Schrödingers Cat as a movie? :stuck_out_tongue:

But with that, we’d really be in German TV movie territory :wink:

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Summary

However, the film does raise many issues as important plot points and then forgets about them.

Yes, but this is a movie about questions not being answered. It is all loose ends.

Even the district attorney, who deliciously picks apart everything with reason for the whole duration of the court scenes, gets sidelined after the boy‘s doubt.

Because the film is more medieval mystery play than Ibsen naturalistic drama.

It all just felt to me like an early draft of the script which should have been developed more.

Understood. You might have fleshed the characters out, instead of leaving them schematic. Now, I know it is a questionable defense–akin to: “Visconti knows the zooms in THE DAMNED are crappy. They are crash zooms!”–but I would argue that the characters are deliberately schematic, so as not to interfere with the examination of mechanisms of control/interrogation–societal, cultural, judicial, romantic, personal, etc. (You are making me want to watch the movie again more than ever LOL)

And the point of the film that we always get one part of the truth but never the whole truth is, to me, old hat

But not a bad one to be reminded of in a time of the strident assertion of certainty (from all directions).

but also, in this particular story, a construct which only works because the filmmakers deliberately withhold the whole truth.

Agreed. One can argue with this particular aesthetic construct–that a story should arrive at a definitive conclusion, but to my eyes, there was an intention not to reveal the truth of the incident–just the result of the trial–the judicial inquiry.

Either Sandra lies or she does not. By not telling that truth the filmmakers take the easy way out.

This is where we disagree. I do not think the decision was an example of “taking the easy way out.” There are just too many loose ends and ambiguities, for it to be poor writing/directing skills. And remember: I am the guy who champions DAF as a failed James Bond movie–all the deviations and seeming mistakes/errors are actually elements contributing to a James Bond movie that undercuts its own serious effort to be a James Bond movie. I know this argument is often proffered to excuse flat-out bad filmmaking, but, once in a while, I think it can be supported by the filmic text.

Wouldn’t it have been so much more interesting to have her be exposed as the murderer, yet at the same time making us understand and feel for her?

It would have been an entirely different movie–more in the vein of humanist modernism, and, possibly, how you would have approached the story.

And to reflect back one of your criticisms: isn’t attempting to arouse sympathy/feelings for the bad person/villain rather old hat?

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Soko Wismar and every other Soko/Hafen early evening crime franchise…

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Summary

Indeed. I was thinking of showing Sandra‘s conundrum (loving her husband, rejecting him for his jealousy, hating herself for being so egotistical, arriving in a situation in which the husband‘s fall was just one small step up from an accident).

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I see. For my taste that strategy is not working for a story clearly set up as a crime drama with all its trappings.

If the idea was to use that genre and deliberately leave loose ends everywhere it should have spiralled into many more tangents, showing how many paths to the truth were still unrecognized. Instead

Summary

the film is constructed methodically to have the boy ask the one question all the adults never asked, and the way even the judge has her aha-moment because of him made me think of all the children’s movies in which that is the conclusion.

I do have to admit, by the way, that I found Sandra deeply unsympathetic, and the movie at no time made me feel for her. Which the movie needed in order to work.

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Summary

I was thinking of showing Sandra‘s conundrum (loving her husband, rejecting him for his jealousy, hating herself for being so egotistical, arriving in a situation in which the husband‘s fall was just one small step up from an accident

That was similar to a thought I had a few days after seeing the film: there was an argument; Samuel becomes upset, and from a combination of anger/emotional upset/distraction, he falls. No, Sandra did not kill him, but there was a deep argument right before he did fall–your “one small step up from an accident.” Did she witness or not? Another question that occurred to me.

As for Sandra being egotistical–if a man engaged in her behavior, he would be considered to be reaching for the gusto, and pursuing his dreams.

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The you have a miniseries, rather than a feature film.

Summary

I found Sandra deeply unsympathetic, and the movie at no time made me feel for her. Which the movie needed in order to work.

I think the choice was deliberate to make Sandra unsympathetic–calling into question the practice/need for people–especially women–to offer a sympathetic mien in order for their actions to be judged on the merits, and not on how one feels about a person.

This goes to the heart of something I have been thinking a lot about lately–the practice of telling stories in order to prove a person’s/people’s common humanity, which, after having been established, becomes the basis for extending rights to said person/people.

As a gay man of a certain age, I will say that I hate the “Hey, we are just like you” argument that is trotted out so frequently to secure and maintain queer rights. When I was younger, and people asked me what it meant to be gay, I would respond: “Gay is everything that is not straight.”

I think, in part, AOAF is examining this question, which is receiving more and more attention: do people who are unsympathetic/do not share their stories/do not demonstrate a common humanity exist in a deficit position, when it comes to possessing rights, and having them respected and honored.

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I would consider a man behaving like that just as unsympathetic.

My problem with Sandra is

Summary

she wants everything but does only contribute what she wants. Yes, she is not responsible for her husband’s inability to focus or to actually have talent. But she uses him to raise her child, she does not care about his feelings and engages in affairs, and she is also apparently using others for her books, kind of a vampiristic way to plunder her life for attention through her work?

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I would consider a man behaving like that just as unsympathetic.

You would, but not all viewers.

Summary

But she uses him to raise her child

Which we have watched men do in lots of movies. Think RECKLESS MOMENT, to take one example. Triet is playing around with movie/narrative tropes.

kind of a vampiristic way to plunder her life for attention through her work?

Kind of like Fellini? LOL

I get that you do not like the character, and would not like the same behaviors exhibited by a male character, but there are a number of films that have male characters doing similar things, which are considered classics.

My guess is that in the end, the lack of sympathy you feel for the female lead, along with the film’s mild meta qualities is not your glass of cinematic tea. You would have a made a much different picture with the same basic story–less cerebral, and more humanist.

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You‘re right. And I am an old softie anyway.

I am even shocked thinking that male characters like that could be applauded and admired, by the way.

One thing‘s for sure: the fact that this film allowed us to debate makes me like it better after all.