There’s a peacefulness and a rage inside us all

Let Me In is based on the novel Let the Right One In (or Låt den rätte komma in, if you prefer), but it’s probably more accurate to say it’s based on the Swedish film adaptation written by the book’s original author, John Ajvide Lindqvist, and directed by Tomas Alfredson. It’s a debt that’s openly acknowledged, including a special citation in the the credits. It’s also unavoidable. The original film version has a spirited cult following and earned critical praise well beyond that usually afforded to entertainments centered on supernatural creatures spilling a lot of blood. Writer-director Matt Reeves had … Continue reading There’s a peacefulness and a rage inside us all

Blitz, Miller, Newman, Rudolph, Thurman

Lucky (Jeffrey Blitz, 2010). After a middling sidetrack into fiction filmmaking, Blitz returns to the sort of quirky documentary that first earned him attention. Lucky is about lottery winners. Blitz follows the trajectories of several different individuals that became instant millionaires when a few kinetic ping pong balls bounced their way. While some of the asides are good, especially those that consider the incredible unlikelihood of actually striking it rich this way, Blitz struggles to find a clear narrative to give the film some structure and cohesion. It winds up instead as a smattering of human interest studios. Some are … Continue reading Blitz, Miller, Newman, Rudolph, Thurman

Spellbound an’ swallowed ’til the tolling ended, tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed

It takes no time at all for Restrepo to establish itself as a completely different breed of war documentary. The film follows an American platoon that’s been dispatched to Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley, an area so fraught with danger that it’s … Continue reading Spellbound an’ swallowed ’til the tolling ended, tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed

Bier, Brooks, Galkin, Jarmusch, Karlson

Kevorkian (Matthew Galkin, 2010). This documentary is about the Michigan physician who gained notoriety and, in some quarters, infamy by advocating for the right of terminally ill patients to end their lives on their own terms and providing the mechanized means to do so in the most humane fashion possible. The relative lack of voices arguing against the very premise of Kevorkian’s actions makes it fairly clear where Galkin’s sympathies lie, but the film is no hagiography. He gives a full airing to the combativeness, unpleasantness and self-defeating egotism of the man, leaving a strong impression that Kevorkian may be … Continue reading Bier, Brooks, Galkin, Jarmusch, Karlson

Bertolucci, Boden and Fleck, Bozzo, Coffin and Renaud, Levinson

The Last Emperor (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1987). Bertolucci’s masterwork probably won its Best Picture Oscar due to its effortless embrace of the epic, but its the acute realization of the most intimate portions of its story that makes it a great film. It follows the life of the last emperor of China from his coronation while still a toddler to his later years toiling as an anonymous gardener after his royal role had disappeared. The sweep of history is what the film moves through, but Bertolucci and his co-screenwriter Mark Peploe rightly realize that the intricacies of the different personality entanglements … Continue reading Bertolucci, Boden and Fleck, Bozzo, Coffin and Renaud, Levinson

Edel, Farrow, Hitchcock, Jordan, Siegel

His Kind of Woman (John Farrow, 1951). How many other actors completely own a genre of film the way that Robert Mitchum does film noir? It’s like he was born into a delivery room filled with murky shadows and cigarette smoke, the doctor instructing the nurse to slap his bottom by growling, “Give him what’s comin’ to him, and make him sing when you do it.” He moves through this story of scheming and duplicity at a Mexican resort as if he’s walking through his own front door, tossing of aloof wisecracks with the ease of a guy who’s already … Continue reading Edel, Farrow, Hitchcock, Jordan, Siegel