The Informant! (***)

THE INFORMANT!
Directed by Steven Soderbergh

***

There's something fascinating lingering under the surface of Steven Soderbergh's latest film, The Informant!. Based on the true story of ADM Vice President Mark Whitacre and his role in the uncovering of the ADM price-fixing scandal, it's plot lends itself easily into the thriller genre. Yet, Soderbergh seems to do everything within his ability to make the film seem whimsical and absurd. Led by a superb performance by Matt Damon, The Informant! pulls off this experiment pleasantly, and still has room to be exceptionally stylish.

Mark Whitacre (Damon) is a well-liked member of upper-management within Archer Daniels Midland, which is a conglomerate that produces grains, and is involved in nearly everything we use in our everyday life. Mark was a former bio-chemist, and is now living a life of luxury in a large Illinois farm house, with his lovely wife Ginger (Melanie Lynsky) and their adopted children. He has no qualms with his more beneficial position, even if it does expose him to the more unattractive aspects of the business world.

When one of Mark's plants isn't producing to the tune of what it's supposed to, he goes to his colleagues to tell them that he is receiving cryptic phone calls from a man who wishes to extort money from ADM, in exchange for the identity of a man who may be a mole within the company and sabotaging the plant's production. Weary, but out of superior options, one of the company heads Mick (Tom Papa), informs Mark that they will allow the FBI to help with the investigation to discover who is making the phone calls. Special Agent Brian Shepard (Scott Bakula) visits Mark's home, and explains that they will tap his phones, which makes Mark all kinds of anxious.

Goaded by Ginger, Mark begins to confess to Shepard that he has been involved in a price-fixing scandal with ADM. Mark agrees to cooperate with Shepard and the FBI in helping them convict Mick and the other company heads in their illegal activity--in exchange for some immunity of his own. Mark agrees to wear a wire, and construct taped meetings wherein he will attempt to capture the company heads plainly discussing their wrongdoings. Problems arise though, when Mark proves not to be the most dependable or honest person, and seems more interested in his own well-being within the company than persecuting the bad guys.

I'm not sure what Soderbergh's motivations were when he decided to take the somewhat tragic tale of Mark Whitacre and turn it into a farce; nor am I positive that this route was the best way to tell this story. What is obvious is that Soderbergh had no interest in taking the plight of Mark Whitacre seriously. That's evidenced by the employment of numerous comedians in small parts (Papa, as well as Patton Oswalt & Paul F. Tompkins, among others) and a preposterous (though effective) musical score by Marvin Hamlisch which conjures more thoughts of Get Smart than a corporate thriller.

Soderbergh's madness pays off for the most part, though. The Mark Whitacre we see in The Informant! is a disturbed man, rolling off lie after lie to the point where he almost has no choice but to believe his own falsehoods. Soderbergh has no interest in telling his story through the complex plot devices he usually utilizes in his films. Instead, he makes mincemeat of the film's potential gravitas, and capitalizes on the story's ludicrous turns for laughs. This is something that is difficult to execute, and even harder to appreciate.

Though it must be said that none of Soderbergh's work would have been worthwhile without the stunning work from Matt Damon. There's something deeper to this performance than just the humor, though it is very funny. Sporting a few extra pounds and a thin, bristly mustache, Damon plays Whitacre like he's the only guy who isn't in on the joke, and without his sincere portrayal, the audience would be unable to generate any sympathy. It's stunning that Jason Bourne has delivered such a beautifully delivered Everyman performance.

In the end, Mark Whitacre's evidence lead to the conviction of the heads of ADM. Unfortunately, it was discovered that Whitacre himself was embezzling money, to the tune of over $10 million. When it was all said and done, Whitacre ended up spending more time in prison than anybody else at ADM. It's a fitting, if not heartbreaking conclusion to the madcap investigation, but if the title suggests anything, it's that this film puts a whole lot of thought into punctuation.

Trailer Watch: A Single Man

Tom Ford's A Single Man is the first real film to have a true emergence from the festival circuit. Most notably, the film's star, Colin Firth, won the Best Actor prize at the Venice Film Festival. Supposedly about a man (Firth) mourning the death of his lover, the trailer contains many things: wonderfully photographed images, a sophisticated soundtrack, and most importantly Julianne Moore (who I'd be willing to watch in anything, including Next, where she acted so poorly I tried to convince myself it was avant-garde). Will A Single Man's buzz last till Oscar time? I'm not sure, because even mid-September is too early to tell, but it's exciting to see the usually flighty Firth in something with true gravitas.

Patrick Swayze (1952-2009)

Much in the case of Michael Jackson, the death of Patrick Swayze effects most people, whether or not they were fans of his work. It may seem strange to compare the death of an actor with such a limited time in the spotlight to the death of a man who is generally referred to as the King of Pop, but many should remember just how big Swayze was at his peak. Breaking through with films like Red Dawn and Youngblood, his major breakthrough came in 1987 with Dirty Dancing, which was not only a gargantuan hit, but also a remarkable showcase of a performer whose physicality was unmatched. His supposedly sexual gyrations and dance moves created a flurry of young girls to swoon, but it was only the beginning of a string of hit films.

He was the lead in the notorious guilty pleasure Road House in 1989, but his biggest hit would come one year later in Ghost where he played a murdered man trying to connect to his former lover, and extract revenge on his murderer using Whoopi Goldberg as a medium. Even writing the facets of the plot seems outlandish, but that unlikely Best Picture nominee became the staple of Swayze's career, and holds what is usually considered to be his greatest performance. Throughout the rest of the 90's, he continued working, finding varying success with such films as Point Break, Father Hood, and the campy draq queen cult classic Too Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar, and though he never quite returned to the pinnacle of Ghost, his image is always a representation of that gloomy transition from the glamorous materialism of the 80's to the murky cynicism of the 90's.

Patrick Swayze, at age 57, was taken too soon...

George Clooney: The Man Who Stares At Awesomeness

With three films lined up for the end of the year, George Clooney seems primed for another spectacular year of exceptional projects (and possible overexposure--but that never seems to happen to him, does it?). He plays a mischievous fox in Wes Anderson's animated film version of Roald Dahl's The Fantastic Fox; he is a mustachioed former Army man who thinks he's a Jedi knight in Grant Heslov's The Men Who Stares At Goats; and in December, he will play the lead in Jason Reitman's solemn meditation on commercial flight addiction, Up In The Air. Even for Clooney, this is an especially loaded year of prospective excellent motion pictures, and with his string of enormous success since 2005 (can we agree that his doubleheader that year of Syriana and Good Night, and Good Luck was the moment that we found out how good he truly was?), it is not unnecessary to pose this question: is there anyone bigger in movies right now than Clooney?

George Clooney staring down the total awesomeness he may or may not be coveting...

But despite the temptation, I won't answer that question. If only because I think it's one that everybody knows the answer to. Buzz for Up In The Air has seemingly exploded within the last few weeks, and the release of a superb trailer within the last few years has only heightened the mania. It is the third film from Jason Reitman (of Juno fame), who has shown that he can tackle the surprising depths of youngsters, and is now peering into the world of middle-aged malaise. George Clooney, always one to turn on the charm, seems entrenched within this character; his long monologue rumbling graciously throughout the whole two-minute preview.

Not to say that Men Who Stare At Goats or Fantastic Mr. Fox seems like small potatoes. I only speak about Up In The Air with more fervor because it is the flavor of the moment. I don't doubt that all three can be special (or terrible, for that matter), but that is not what is on my mind exactly. Which other actor can have this many buzzed-about films coming out within months of each other, and you're still willing to assume that he's giving first-rate performances in all of them? By the end of 2009, many bloggers and film dweebs will recount the decade's greatest films and directors, but how will we look down on Clooney? Because no other personality has dominated Hollywood more during that time span.

**Really, though, who else has the ability of playing a defeated frequent flier, an animated fox, and a middle-aged, bumbling field agent, and still look like the coolest guy in town? God, all men wish they were him.

Trailer Watch: Up In The Air

Jason Reitman's latest film, Up In The Air, has had a sudden bubble-burst of buzz since it's arrival at the Telluride Film Festival. Based on this trailer--which is executed with stunning grace--the film takes a solemn look at the supposed lonely, but advantageous lifestyle behind constant commercial flying. Having read the book the film is based on, I can say that it does not seem to reflect the overbearing irony that Walter Kirn had in his novel, and the trailer-long monologue by Clooney seems to reflect some serious, unexpected (by me) pathos. Reitman's follow-up to Juno seems like an exceptionally grown-up film.

**Sorry for the double-dip of trailer watches, and no film reviews. Too much reading and writing to attend the cinemas recently. Hope to get some reviews to you soon.

Trailer Watch: The Men Who Stare At Goats

Coming from Grant Heslov, The Men Who Stare At Goats seems like the excellent military satire we've all been waiting for. Surely, there hasn't been a good one since 1999's Three Kings, and it's no coincidence that both Kings and Goats stare the seemingly always exceptional George Clooney. Heslov has worked with Clooney previously on the screenplay for Good Night, and Good Luck, and now Heslov is getting the chance to direct his first feature film. Featuring an excellent cast (am I the only one wondering where the awesomeness of Kevin Spacey has gone?), and what seems to be an intelligent script from a nonfiction source, this film has a great opportunity to be a sleeper hit later in the year.

A Weekend Wasting...

No movies this weekend. The big releases today are Ang Lee's Taking Woodstock which seems mildly amusing (by that I mean, I can wait until a DVD release), and two torture porn horror flicks: Rob Zombie's diabolical redress of Halloween 2, and the 3-D film The Final Destination. I don't really forecast much box office success for Woodstock--did anybody really want to see a historical fiction about Woodstock starring Demitri Martin? That said, it's obvious that the only true contenders for winning the weekend will be one of the two sadistic bloodbaths.

We love to watch beautiful people suffer horrific deaths...

I don't fault Rob Zombie for wanting to make his own kind of film, I'll just say that I don't care to see it. I do, on the other hand, have a huge problem with the latest Final Destination which is a rather lazy recycling of plot. It is literally point-for-point the same film as the previous film with added 3-D technology, less-famous actors, and a "The" slapped on the front of it. Seriously, studio heads are laughing at the fact that all they have to do is place a useless word in front of the old title, and people will think they've created a completely different film. It's hard not to argue that the film is only a guise to gouge more money out of audiences for 3-D glasses. Instead of feeding the shitty-movie-machine, I think I'll rather stay home.

Great Films: The Manchurian Candidate (1962)

GREAT FILMS: THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE (1962)
Directed by John Frankenheimer

The political thriller genre has become stumped in a field of mediocrity recently, never able to escape the disease of recycled plot points and predictability. To be fair, it’s hard to be exceptional within that specific category of films without being a bit foggy and convoluted, since most audience members don’t possess the political savvy to truly understand all of the concepts within the story. The Manchurian Candidate pulls off the perfect balance between intelligence and exuberance, while containing one of the smartest screenplays ever written, and because of that, it is the beacon of political thrillers, unmatched by any movie before or since.

The film tells the story of a captured platoon of American GIs during The Korean War. Upon return to the United States, one member of the platoon, Staff Sgt. Raymond Shaw (Laurence Harvey) receives the Congressional Medal of Honor for his heroic escape and rescue of his fellow soldiers. Raymond comes home to cheers, and is greeted by his meddling mother (Angela Lansbury) and his dim-witted step-father Sen. Johnny Iselin (James Gregory). Possessing an icy personality, and a strong disdain for both his mother and her husband, Raymond quickly decides to work for the newspaper for Johnny's biggest journalistic rival.

Maj. Ben Marco (Frank Sinatra), also a member of Raymond's platoon, is able to find a job within the military upon his return, but he is plagued by terrible nightmares, where he's sitting with his fellow soldiers (and Raymond) amongst a group of older women discussing horticulture. As the dream continues, though, the older women turn into Korean political scientists, discussing how they have successfully brainwashed the entire platoon. The dream always end the same way: Raymond Shaw gets out of his seat, and murders two of his fellow soldiers--mysteriously enough, the only two soldiers who did not survive capture. Marco details his dreams to the military, but after little investigation, they conclude simply that he is suffering from a delayed Post-Traumatic Stress disorder, and send him to work in the Public Relations department, so he can relax.

Around the same time, Raymond Shaw begins to be greeted by sinister phone calls, asking him to play Solitaire. Raymond plays until he encounters a red Queen, and after that, he has become activated to enforce the murders of a number of inconspicuous puppet-masters with obvious political agendas. Of course, Raymond is never consciously aware of his violent deeds, and because of that, his brain-washers see him as the perfect weapon. Still tormented by dreams, Marco sees Raymond Shaw, and as he slowly begins to befriend Raymond, he begins to discover what Raymond is programmed to do. The climax of the plan is unknown to Marco, though, and working against the clock, he attempts to save Raymond from his discreet controllers before Raymond executes something horrible.

Today, it seems almost impossible that the film's original audiences in the early 1960's were not too fond of it. All sorts of things are thrown at the viewers: hypnosis, intrigue, tension, and one of the very first choreographed fight scenes in a non-martial arts film. It's sufficient to mention that many of the things that director John Frankenheimer displays on the screen were unlike anything ever seen in American cinemas. Sure, The Manchurian Candidate was not the first movie to address McCarthy-era paranoia, but it's the manner in which the film deals with this particularly mistrustful moment in our country's history; the film throws it themes around almost playfully, to the point that many film enthusiasts at the time (like, for example, The New Yorker's Pauline Kael) to consider the movie a farce or a satire.

Is The Manchurian Candidate a farce or satire? I don't think so, but I also don't think that it does a wonderful film any good to box it into any particular corner of genre or classification. It's pretty obvious that the political aspects of the film generate the most disinterest, because it is only used to set up the curious plot points of brainwashing and corruption. It's the characters, of which there are many, that really make this film fascinating. Amongst Shaw, Marco, and Shaw's Mother, there is Josie, Raymond's lover; Rosie, Marco's newly-acquainted girlfriend; and also Thomas Jordan, a senator, Josie's father, and Johnny Iselin's main political rival.

All of them, in their own particular way, enrich this monumental film. They best represent the film's moral ambiguity, which is another reason why the film has only become popular within recent decades. No character, no matter how delicate or ferocious is assumed innocent or fragile, and not till the film's rising climax (which, despite the film's age, I won't reveal here, since it is still one of cinema's most under-viewed classics) do any of them become clear in their motives. You could say that the film goes out of its way to trick you, but I give George Axelrod's script a lot more credit than that.

As two anguished military officers, both Harvey and Sinatra are spectacular. Lawrence Harvey's Raymond Shaw is parts unfeeling bastard, and parts socially-awkward, sympathetic figure. Sinatra, though never the best-formed actor throughout his work in films, uses his blue-eyed charm to its fullest potential to plug life into the otherwise weary Maj. Marco. Of course, the most infamous performance in the film belongs to the great Angela Lansbury, who invests such conniving schemes and foul play into Mrs. Iselin that in her intermittent moments, she grasps the screen absolutely. Nominated for an Academy Award, Lansbury's memorable performance creates of the best, most layered movie villains of all time.

I believe The Manchurian Candidate gets its proper due these days, though its exclusion from AFI's most recent 100 American Films list was quite troubling (seeing as they were able to make room for Titanic, after all). What's not a debate, though, is The Manchurian Candidate's unbelievable influence on cinema afterward. Unfortunately, most contemporary moviegoers will think of the unparalleled remake in 2004, by the usually superb director Jonathon Demme. The 2004 film was uninteresting in all of the ways the original was special, and hope is that despite the remake's atrociousness, it compelled many to see the original.

What unfolds in the film's complex and clever conclusion is the work of a first-rate political strategist, and it does what few movie endings are able to do: it actually surprises you. Not all of the characters get what they deserve, but some do. That said, a resolution involving anything different from the film's consistent murky themes would have been a disappointment, indeed. Even today, The Manchurian Candidate stands as one of the more brilliantly executed suspense films of all time.

25 Great Actors

A response to Nathaniel (from The Film Experience), who asked all web film fanatics to create a sporadic, subjective list of their twenty-five favorite actors. Here are mine:


Woody Allen
Alec Baldwin
Humphrey Bogart
Steve Buscemi
Joseph Cotten


Tom Cruise
John Cusack
Matt Damon
Jeff Daniels
Daniel Day-Lewis


Robert DeNiro
Ralph Fiennes
Morgan Freeman
Paul Giamatti
Cary Grant


Dustin Hoffman
Phillip Seymour Hoffman
William Holden
Jack Lemmon
William H. Macy


Jack Nicholson
Al Pacino
Sean Penn
James Stewart
Orson Welles

**Note to readers: Don't try to create collages if you don't have Photoshop. The result is not nearly as satisfying as you'd expect. Sigh...

The Tarantino Divide

With the release of Tarantino's latest film, Inglourious Basterds, he has received a flood of divisive responses with some seeing the film as an invigorating piece of tour-de-force filmmaking (like me), and others dismissing it as an interminable film with barbarous violence and a confusing focus: "Are we watching farce or a serious attempt to re-imagine the Second World War?". Do I feel that I have to defend Tarantino and his new movie? Not at all, but I think it's important to state that Inglourious Basterds--like almost all of his movies--is made to create a division between fanboys and haters, but overall, Tarantino still created an exceptional film.

**Spoilers Will Most Likely Await Further Down**

One of the main complaints that people have of Basterds is that it simply cannot make up its own mind as to whether or not it takes itself seriously. Quite frankly, I don't think I'm going out on a limb by saying that it's quite obvious that Tarantino was not attempting to create a World War II film with true gravitas, but a spaghetti western that happens to take place in Nazi-occupied France. If you're having trouble deciding whether or not Basterds is farce (a film, mind you, which supposes that World War II ended in a French cinema by eight suicide bombers, and has Hitler being murdered via machine gun), then perhaps you're simply not watching the correct movie.

I will agree with some critics that the desensitized nature American audiences have toward brutal violence is a bit disturbing. I did cringe when audiences hooted and cheered when the character Sgt. Donny Donowitz (played by Eli Roth), beats a Nazi with a baseball bat to the point that his face is nothing but pulp, but there are many moments when Tarantino reflects our own sadism against us.



The bat-wielding Donny Donowitz.













In the film's climax, important members of the Nazi party sit in a cinema, laughing and cheering as they watch a film where Nazi war hero Frederick Zoller (played by Daniel Brühl) eagerly snipes away at three-hundred American soldiers, one by one. Then, in a plan set up by the Jewish cinema owner Shosanna (played by Mélanie Laurent), a mountain of flammable 35mm film is lit, incinerating the entire theater, while the Nazis are locked in. As they desperately attempt to escape, Shosanna presents her own face on the screen and laughs at their terror.

I won't presume to know what Tarantino was trying to say in that scene, but I will state what I obviously saw: when the audience was sentenced into watching Nazis laugh at the countless murders of American soldiers, they sat with tense, stone faces. Only when the Basterds came in, and the fire was set did the audience release their animosity, and re-enter the energy of the movie. The film mirrored our own sadism, and for me, created an unforgettably ironic theater atmosphere in which people, perhaps unknowingly, were forced to face their own demented views of violence.

The face of this reflection is Col. Hans Landa (the fantastic Christoph Waltz), who is easily the film's most delightful character, even though he is a Nazi detective better known as the Jew Hunter. Some may remember that I discarded last year's The Reader because it asked us to feel sympathy for a Nazi, which is all but impossible. Tarantino doesn't ask us to feel sympathy for Landa, but he does dare us to be swayed by his charm, and many find this to be a bad thing. Nazis will always be the bad guys, some think; and even though Landa is the de-facto "bad guy", he is probably the most likable person to watch in the movie.

Hans Landa: A Misunderstood Man

Audiences aren't usually entertained by moral ambiguity, but Quentin Tarantino has always been successful despite this. Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction is filled with the same paradox in which the protagonists are murderers, gangsters, drug-addicts, etc. He's been accused at various times of glorifying violence, even though I feel he has always glorified the characters, and not their actions. It's been a rather grand debate ever since Tarantino has appeared on the scene, but no matter how you feel about the films themselves and their content, it's rather difficult to make the case that they aren't some of the more innovative films of the last two decades. It's probably better to be divisive than to be mediocre.

Trailer Watch: Avatar

Is it fair that I would probably have no interest in this movie whatsoever if James Cameron wasn't involved? Seriously, stick any other director onto this project, and I would say that this looks rather silly, and quite frankly, like a video game commercial. That said, it's widely known that Cameron's talent for creating alternate worlds is unmatched, and with Avatar, it seems like he is undertaking one of his most ambitious projects. It is supposedly about an epic battle between humans and a mutant semi-human avatars, though the preview doesn't seem to document any of this. No matter how much the trailer makes me squirm (those blue avatar people are spectacularly under-created, no?), I will still be going to see this film come Christmas time.

Inglourious Basterds (***1/2)

INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS
Written and Directed by Quentin Tarantino

***1/2

As evidenced by the title of Quentin Tarantino's latest film, Inglourious Basterds, not even the strict confinements of grammar and spelling can contain the eccentric filmmaker. Harbored lately, Basterds is Tarantino's first full film since 2004's Kill Bill Vol. 2 (you'll remember he co-directed the Grindhouse film with Robert Rodriguez in 2007). Always hip to conquer any genre he wishes, Tarantino now turns his eye toward World War II, though it probably isn't the World War II you learned about in high school. Instead, Tarantino shows us the war through the eyes of three distinctly charismatic and idiosyncratic characters.

The first is Col. Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz--Best Actor winner at the Cannes Film Festival), a Nazi detective who's better known by his nickname: the Jew Hunter. Known for his charm, Landa has a talent for searching out Jews, and tasteful liking for killing them. The film opens with a wondrously-wordy scene in which Landa enters into the home of a French farmer whom he believes is hiding Jews. Never once does he udder a threatening word, but there is always the look of menace hiding deep within his eyes. With swift efficiency, Landa breaks down the farmer and finds the Jews where they are promptly executed.

That is, except for one: Shosanna Dreyfuss (Mélanie Laurent). She is able to out-run Landa after her entire family is massacred, and years later she has been able to make a living in Paris running a small cinema. Free from the Nazis, and now under the gentile pseudonym of Emmanuelle, Shosanna has found a respectable and safe living, that is until she captures the eye and heart of a Third Reich war hero, Frederick Zoller (Daniel Brühl). Zoller insists that she accompany him to various Nazi gatherings, where she is once again face-to-face with Landa.

The other important character is American Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt), who is the head of a special military battalion named "The Basterds". Consisting of eight men, all Jewish, their missions comprise of finding Nazis and murdering them cruelly. Raine himself has his own sadistic requirement: he insists that all encountered dead Nazis shall be scalped, and all living Nazis will have a swastika carved into their forehead. When the Basterds hear that a film premiere will be held harboring numerous key members of the Third Reich, they hope to blow it up.

Christoph Waltz as the wonderfully evil Col. Hans Landa

Many connections are made: the premiere is being held at Shosanna's theater, the film itself is based on Zoller's life, etc., but Tarantino is working something crafty here. Many Americans have made better WWII films, but none of them have been anything like this. It's not that Tarantino doesn't care about the real history of this country's most idealized war, it's just that it's more convenient for his characters if things happen in a fairly different way. Authenticity be damned, Tarantino's version makes for a much more entertaining movie.

Not that any of this is surprising, Tarantino has never made conventional films, and with each consecutive film, there seems to be an even bolder, more ambitious turn. There are the usual aspects of the Tarantino model: fantastic dialogue, unbelievably memorable characters, but most importantly, there is always space saved to tip its cap toward cinema itself. It's not an accident that Shosanna runs a cinema; it gives Tarantino the chance to flex his film-dweeb muscles and drop names like Louis B. Mayer and Max Linder. Can anybody else get away with adding a seemingly arbitrary sequence describing how 35mm film is incredibly flammable? There may be a few, but not many.

Oh, but those wonderful words, of which Tarantino seems to have an infinite artillery. When most people think of his films, they ponder sadistic violence, which is fair--his films have always indulged in intense bloodiness and extreme violence. What separates him from the torture porn exploitation artists like Eli Roth (who I only mention because he happens to have a major role in this film as one of the Basterds)? What makes Tarantino exceptional is his unmatched gift for words, and how they are able to create characters so wonderfully mannered, that they never fully divulge into caricature--though they come close.

Always known to have a gift with actors, Inglourious Basterds generates a handful of wonderful performances. Pitt's Aldo Raine is a comical farce of American arrogance and brutish macho-ness. Not to mention, it's a perfect example of how Pitt is at his best when he is at his silliest. French actress Mélanie Laurent displays all kinds of fear, attraction, and vengeance-fueled anger, and underplays it all perfectly. The film's most exciting performance comes from Christoph Waltz, whose cruel, but calculated Col. Landa is beautiful rendering of exasperating personality veiling overwhelming sadism. Waltz should be looking at an Oscar nomination in late January.

Can a film be great when it's best moments all come within the first twenty-five minutes? Well, Inglourious Basterds seems to prove that it can. Sure the rowdiness occasionally seems campy, and the references to spaghetti westerns and 1940's Film Noir will not be caught by most audience members, but despite it all, Tarantino is able to craft a wonderfully rich screenplay which recreates the phrase "historical fiction". Possessing some of the best dialogue he's ever written, Basterds is a brilliant return to filmmaking from one our most neurotic, but rarest movie directors.

The Time Traveler's Wife (***)

THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE
Directed by Robert Schwentke

***

It's hard to have a plot as preposterous as The Time Traveler's Wife and continue to be sincere. Films have tried and failed to make romantic tear-jerkers involving robots, space, and whatnot, but the overall craziness makes it hard for any audience not to giggle in unintentional hilarity. I feel The Time Traveler's Wife manages to succeed where those other films didn't simply because its actors took the story seriously, and through genuine performances, created an effective film about love and what it means to be truly "in the moment".

Based on the best-selling novel by Audrey Niffenegger, the story is about Henry TeDamble (Eric Bana). At the age of six, moments before a car accident took his mother's life, he became unstuck within the time-space continuum, and realized he could travel through time. As he grew older, he learns to accept his impairment, though he never becomes any less unnerved when he randomly disappears to view moments from his past and his future. Other than his father (Arliss Howard), there is no one who he can talk to about his affliction.

That is, until he meets Clare Abshire (Rachel McAdams) while working at the library. She gleams a smile at him and asks him to dinner, even though he doesn't even know her. Sitting with her, she tells him that she has known him since she was a little girl, and he came to visit her various times when he was much older. With her, Henry feels safe for one of the few times in his incredibly hectic life, and with little hesitation asks her to marry him--she accepts.

As Clare attempts to endure Henry's peculiar gene deformity, Henry begins to travel back and visit Clare when she's younger, as she said he had. Problems persist when the two try to have children, and a number of miscarriages occur when the fetus begins to time travel out of her uterus (yeah, you read that right). Of course, when they finally do have a daughter, she's a little time traveler as well. It creates a pleasantly poignant scene where Henry meets his daughter (Hailey McCann) before she has even been born.

Rather early in the film, the plot's erratic plausibility pushes the audience into a tight corner where they will either choose to accept the film or not. I don't know whether or not most people will walk away from this film, but I assume they won't. German filmmaker Robert Schwentke deals with the film's rather rapid plot points so delicately, that even the most ludicrous elements stand with feasibility. Perhaps it's strange that most of Henry's friends and loved ones seem so casual about his time traveling, but what would you do?

In a very difficult role, Eric Bana is able to create Henry from something deep inside. There are times when the Australian's American accent sounds a bit like a voice-over talent, but it's Bana that makes The Time Traveler's Wife so compelling. He seems to put a lot of trust in the film's story and the filmmakers behind it, and it adds to his performance which powers what may have otherwise been a very weak motion picture. *Interesting piece of trivia: Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston bought the movie rights to the book before it was even released. I would've been interesting to see that combination in this film.

Rachel McAdams, a young actress who I have great admiration for, was disappointingly stale in her role as the woman who tames the time traveler. She's been much better in lesser films. Other than the obvious, there are few things in the film that make The Time Traveler's Wife anything less than a potent romance with genuine tragedy. It will be discarded quickly by many as nothing more than a sappy, chick flick, and in a way, it is pandering toward an audience which would enjoy that kind of film. I can't help but think, though, about how difficult it is to tell this kind of story, and the fact that it is anything other than mediocre is an accomplishment onto itself.

Ponyo (***)

PONYO
Written and Directed by Hayao Mayazaki

***

I will admit that I am a complete ignoramus when it comes to Japanese Anime films. Mamoru Oshii's ultra-violent Ghost In The Shell always seemed slow and uninteresting, and even though there is a strong American following for these films, they always seemed strangely archaic to me. Of course, the Japanese take their animated works much more seriously than us Americans do, and they aren't afraid to draw something up specifically for adults. The biggest conundrum for me when it comes to Japanese Anime is the level of animation compared to the added maturity within the storylines. How can the films be more sophisticated than American animation, when the animation itself is so much more unsophisticated?

That said, Hayao Mayazaki is not just any Japanese Anime filmmaker. Many consider him to be the ultimate genius within the genre, and his film Howl's Moving Castle is considered a masterpiece, while 2001's Spirited Away won the Animated Feature Oscar, the only foreign film to ever win that young award. So it makes sense that Mayazaki's newest film, Ponyo, would get the Hollywood treatment. As the film's status grew in Japan, Disney bought the film, and dubbed it over with superstar voices including Matt Damon, Cate Blanchett, Tina Fey, and Liam Neeson. Now, it is in American theaters for many to see.

The film is about a young goldfish who travels up to the land and ends up in the hands of a small boy named Sosuke. Despite the obvious emotional limitations of being a fish, Ponyo begins to openly state her love for Sosuke, and her desire to be a human. This comes as a shock to her father, Fujimoto, who watches her from under and above the water. He hates humans, and sees them only as beings who make waste to the sea. Having tasted human blood, Ponyo's powers become stronger and she is able to grow feet and hands, and transform into a little girl.

Fujimoto's worst fear is realized when Ponyo's transformation disrupts the balance of nature, and causes a dangerous tsunami to blow through Sosuke's small town. Sosuke and his open-minded mother Risa allow Ponyo to stay in their home while the storm rages outside. Ponyo endears the two of them as she is able to use her special powers to start the generator, and turn Sosuke's toy boat into a big enough boat to get around in after the tsunami has settled. As she continues to meld with Risa and Sosuke, Fujimoto tries desperately to get Ponyo back to make the world right.

You can't state enough how impressive it is that Mayazaki continues to do hand-drawn animation. It's particularly impressive when you consider that almost all animation in America has shifted toward the computer-animations of Pixar and Dreamworks, and there hasn't really been a successful hand-drawn cartoon film since Aladdin. Not that Mayazaki is interested in what is successful in the states, his films have been enormously successful in numerous countries, but it's important not to underscore how breathtaking Mayazaki's animation is.

Mayazaki's eye for the fantastical is another thing which may stunt the attention of American audiences. I assume that walking out of this film, I shouldn't ask why Ponyo looks nothing like a goldfish, but actually like a toddler in a nightgown. I also shouldn't ask why Ponyo's sorcerer father looks absolutely nothing like a fish, but instead like a 1970's glam rocker, equipped with hair spray and sanguine suits. Perhaps Japanese audiences don't even bat an eye at this, but for many (including me), it produces a quizzical eyebrow raise.

What makes Ponyo such a wonderful experience, though, is not it's majestic characters, but it's heart. It has an unbelievable affection for its characters, and even the evil ones get their opportunities to show all of their dimensions. The characters of Fujimoto and Risa, particularly, are a perfect showcase of the varying worries and responsibilities of parenthood, and even when they aren't showing the best judgment, there is never a moment of doubt of their true feelings for their children.

The reason most people will love Ponyo, though, is because of the adorable love story between Ponyo and Sosuke. It was, in fact, adorable though the idea of a story about true love involving two toddlers is a little unnerving. Surely, Mayazaki does not take this underage affection into Todd Solondz, Welcome To The Dollhouse atmosphere, and is able to produce a constant feel of innocence underneath everything. With the addition of Joe Hisaishi's wondrous score, the film's startling beauty does overtake you, even if some of its moments involve great suspension of disbelief.

500 Days of Summer (****)

500 DAYS OF SUMMER
Directed by Marc Webb

****

Within Marc Webb's film, 500 Days of Summer, I experienced a mixture of emotions--but none of them were negative. Traveling through the highs and lows of two twenty-somethings treading through what may or may not be love, the film always teeters on that ledge that balances between earnest emotion and hipster, goofball convolution. Luckily for all of us, Summer pulls of its high-wire act superbly.

The story follows Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a loyal employee at a greeting card company, who has strong belief in romantic love and "the one". He's convinced that he's met "the one" when he sees Summer Finn (Zooey Deschanel), his boss' new assistant. She has a perky style, beautiful blue eyes, and (most importantly) she's a fan of the Smiths. As they discuss their comparative tastes in all things pop culture, Tom is more and more enraptured with Summer, and eventually admits his infatuation drunkenly at a karaoke party.

What follows is not something Tom expects, but something he finds exciting. Summer admits early in their relationship that she is not searching for anything long-term or serious, and very bluntly states that there is no such thing as love. At their young, fruitful age, she feels, they should be trying to have as much fun as they can, and tying yourself down to one specific person is actually stunting your progression. Tom immediately thinks this idea is sophomoric, but he could care less as long as he gets to be around Summer.

Their relationship grows steadily, but even as they get closer and closer, Summer is always aware to keep a safe distance, maintaining that what they have is no more than a friendship. Tom gets frustrated, and as the months go by, the relationship trudges along, emotions begin to boil, and the romance starts to stale. Before long, Summer decides to leave Tom, and all Tom can think of is how to win her back. Using his friend and co-worker McKenzie (Geoffrey Arend), and his wiser-than-her-years little sister Rachel (Chloe Moretz), he plots on the best way to win her over once again.

I realize now, that I've done the movie a disservice by explaining the plot chronologically, because part of the charm of this film is its defiant middle-finger in the direction of linear storytelling. It jumps back, it jumps forward. We see them giggling during blooming romance, and then we cut to see them preoccupied with the frustration of waning love moments later. Like a modern day Annie Hall, the film utilizes flashbacks and flashforwards to best show how the relationship between Tom and Summer both succeeded and failed.

I make the comparison to Annie Hall because both films possessed a similar theme: love is relative, and love lost is not always love tarnished. 2004's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was another film which showcased this beautifully. Unlike Eternal Sunshine and Annie Hall, though, 500 Days possesses a invigorating and sublime attitude, and contains such unbelievable sunniness, it's almost impossible to not keep a smile on your face. Few films can mix an entire sequence devoted to Belle & Sebastian's "The Boy with the Arab Strap" with a choreographed dance number with Hall & Oats' "You Make My Dreams Come True" and live to tell about it.

At twenty-eight years old, it seems like Joseph Gordon-Levitt has been around forever, with success as a child actor in Angels In The Outfield and television's 3rd Rock From The Sun. He has recently begun to establish himself as a serious actor, like in 2004's Mysterious Skin and 2007's brilliantly underrated The Lookout. In 500 Days, he no longer has to mope, and is given the opportunity to be wistful and charming, and his exuberance holds the soul of the entire film. He never overstates his big moments, and always delivers the brilliant dialogue (by Scott Neustadter & Michael H. Weber) with ease.

One of the main criticisms of the film has been the screenplay's inability to draw out the character of Summer into anything more than a Smiths-loving hipster who adores Ringo Starr. Sure, I can understand how some can see Summer as a cipher who floats in a strange place above the film's otherwise sophisticated character development, but I believe Deschanel plays Summer perfectly. She creates Summer as a blank canvas on which Tom hopes to paint his masterpiece (in fact, there is a scene where Tom actually draws on her, literally). We sometimes try to push our own ideals about romance onto someone, in hope that they will become the person from our dreams. Note to readers: this never works.

The film is directed by Marc Webb, and it is his first film. It's quite a good one. I know 500 Days of Summer will surely become lumped into the "offbeat" category, in the fashion of other films like Juno or Little Miss Sunshine. It's rather convenient analysis, and much easier than saying exactly what it is: an exceptional and intelligent romantic comedy. In other words, it's something Hollywood studios think audiences hate. The film has built strongly over the last few weeks with word-of-mouth, further proving that audiences are not nearly as stupid as the studio heads seem to think we are. Then again, G.I. Joe was the #1 movie this weekend, but I'll try and put that in the back of my mind.