Almodóvar, Argott, Butterworth, Fellowes, Scorsese

Separate Lies (Julian Fellowes, 2005). Following his Oscar win for scripting Robert Altman’s exemplary Gosford Park, Julian Fellowes made his directorial debut with an adaptation of an an old novel by Nigel Balchin. The film focuses of a busy, distracted solicitor whose marriage begins to fray, a situation compounded when the death of a local man in a hit-and-run car accident brings secrets to light and sets everyone reeling into a series of moral compromises. The stuff of high drama is certainly present in abundance in the story, and with Tom Wilkinson, Emily Watson and Rupert Everett at the head … Continue reading Almodóvar, Argott, Butterworth, Fellowes, Scorsese

Altman, Clements and Musker, Gordon (and others), Kubrick, Weir

Lolita (Stanley Kubrick, 1962). Vladimir Nabokov’s novel was less than ten years old when Stanley Kubrick took a swing at it, so he was working with a best-selling sensation instead of a revered part of the canon. That–combined with the significant detail that he was Stanley Kubrick and he plainly did want he wanted–gives the director great latitude in his adaptation. Nabokov himself is the credited screenwriter, but much of that material was jettisoned by Kubrick on the way to making his own distinct, darkly comic work. James Mason is marvelous as Professor Humbert Humbert, the man who becomes smitten … Continue reading Altman, Clements and Musker, Gordon (and others), Kubrick, Weir

Armstrong, Brooks, Hodges, Laven, Lester

My Brilliant Career (Gillian Armstrong, 1979). It’s always fun to watch Judy Davis lead with her chin, and sharp, distinctive onscreen personality was basically in place from the beginning. She plays a young Australian woman in the late 19th century who is certain that greatness awaits her out in the big, bad world. Her headstrong nature is continually put to the test, and part of the pleasure of the movie is watching Davis emotionally endure the various indignities and challenges laid in her character’s path. Armstrong balances the storytelling nicely, evoking the period without letting the film become needlessly smothered … Continue reading Armstrong, Brooks, Hodges, Laven, Lester

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

Demme, Frears, Hooper, Lee, Wang

Swimming to Cambodia (Jonathan Demme, 1987). Jonathan Demme may not have been the best filmmaker of the nineteen-eighties, but I think there’s an argument to be made that he was the most interesting. This film is a good illustration of that point. It’s a film version of one of Spalding Gray’s monologues, a meandering but always focused act of storytelling that springs from his involvement in the film The Killing Fields. Gray’s approach was simplicity itself, sitting behind a small wooden table with his spiral notebook before him and little more than a couple of maps to help fill out … Continue reading Demme, Frears, Hooper, Lee, Wang

Acker, Cronenberg, Denis, Heckerling, Sturges

Clueless (Amy Heckerling, 1995). I’m prepared to concede that Heckerling’s gum-snap reworking of Jane Austen’s Emma is better than I would have said after seeing it upon its original release. It’s also, despite its reputation, not some glistening pop gem. It’s an agreeable bit of fluff with some charming moments, and a suitably bright performance from Alicia Silverstone, who’s more a beneficiary of shrewd casting than anything. Writer-director Amy Heckerling–here fresh from a couple dippy crowdpleasers about the inner monologues of babies, let’s not forget–is a sloppy, unfocused filmmaker. Just because her attention span may sync up with those of … Continue reading Acker, Cronenberg, Denis, Heckerling, Sturges

Benedek, Lang, Morris, Scorsese, Wilder

Standard Operating Procedure (Errol Morris, 2008). The Oscar-winning documentarian turns his attention (and his Interrotron) to the appalling abuse of prisoners inflicted by American soldiers at Abu Ghraib prison. The resulting film is exhaustive and exhausting, laying out the ugly details of the matter with an appropriate relentlessness. Morris corrals interviews with most of the principals, and their collective testimony seems painfully honest if sometimes buffered down in the name of understandable self-preservation. Morris inserts a handful of subdued and yet entirely unnecessary recreations. It’s a tactic that he’s notably employed before, but this time out it’s just intrusive. The … Continue reading Benedek, Lang, Morris, Scorsese, Wilder

Aldrich, Huston, Kore-Eda, Lee, Sanders

Black Dynamite (Scott Sanders, 2009). An inspired spoof of nineteen-seventies Blaxploitation films, Black Dynamite stars Michael Jai White as the title character, who dispenses justice on the mean streets while searching for his brother’s killer. Sanders gets the tone exactly right, mocking the conventions of the subgenre without lapsing into condescension. There’s a clear affection here, a conviction that no matter what else the original films may have been, they were also fun. How many movies can have claim major climactic sequences taking place on Kung Fu Island? Clever as it is, it’s a hard conceit to sustain over the … Continue reading Aldrich, Huston, Kore-Eda, Lee, Sanders

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