A fun albiet predictable evening

Hey everyone, hope you all enjoyed the Oscars. I know I did. Hmm, what could've helped that?
Oh, also this.

Seems like everyone I was with had a fun night. In a year where the academy was unusually savvy in its choice for nominees, as usual early hyperbole brought the fix-in way too early. Blame for this certainly can fall on interminable post-festival buzz for films like No Country and La Vie En Rose. How can anyone else be a winner when certain films and people have had the phrase "Oscar winner" bandied about beside their name for months? I will say the Jon Stewart seemed relaxed despite a crunched prep-time. He was fun and off-the -cuff and while others may criticize him for being reined in there was a still a lot of strike-fueled bad blood in the room and overly edgy material would not have helped it. Still I felt the evening breezed by considering there were only really two brief "wtf" type montages as opposed to four or five. It was ALMOST interesting seeing how Oscar nominations get done and it's nice to see Oscar moments. I'm sure for non-cinephiles it was dull as dishwater to see the prior nominees bits before each of the "big six" but if you're one of us it's intriguing to see how trends have evolved in Hollywood (and to show off the best and worst choices for that matter).

Ok quick personal favorite moments and superlatives from the evening:
Best line of the opening monologue: In regards to Norbit's make-up nomination "Too often, the Academy ignores movies that aren't good."
Runner-up: On the Democratic front-runners "Usually when you see a black or woman president, an asteroid's about to hit The Statue Of Liberty." Which led to the nights most amusing audience reaction shot; tickled pink (metaphorically) Wesley Snipes and Spike Lee.
Bit that failed at show but killed at the party I was at: Jon Stewart and the girl from the August Rush musical number playing wii tennis.
Best presenters: Josh Brolin and James McAvoy make a lame bit work (reciting classic film lines) through sheer force of personality and Brolin's terrible Nicholson impression. Both were so psyched to be there (and will hopefully show up again in the future). Didn't hurt that they were easy on the eyes. Or McAvoy's adorable little skip as he walked on.
Runner-up: "Not Dame Judi Dench and Halle Berry" Jonah Hill and Seth Rogen. Also quoth the girlfriend "And I know that Seth...Seth Rogen can never figure out if he's the fat guy...the hot guy in Knocked Up or the other guy...or the other guy the one from Juno. I know the fat guy and the other one from Knocked Up presented." A follow-up phone call revealed that yes, my gf think Seth Rogen is sexy and was not in fact talking about Paul Rudd. Yes I am the luckiest man ever.
Worst presenter: Cameron Diaz, you should probably be able to pronounce the title of your category as a prerequisite to presenting. Also she's kind of irrelevant as her face has not appeared in a film since 2006.
Runner-up: Miley Cyrus, why do you exist? No children are watching these Oscars and your presence isn't changing anyone's mind.

Best entrance: Verbatim line from party "Hey wouldn't it be amazing if Travolta were one of the dancers?" Ask and ye shall receive Pat Oscar party. Truly awful Travolta (registered trademark pending) impressions and cheers followed.
The Steven Spielberg appreciation society: Amy Adams (who smiled enormously and genuinely when the themes for Jaws and Close Encounters played) and The Rock (Apparently little 8 year old Dwayne thought the face melting in Raiders "was very real").

Best reaction shot: Seeing Cate watch her clip for Elizabeth 2 and then made a face that looked like someone had just shown a clip from a terrible high-school play. See even she knows that movie had no business being nominated.

Best musical performance: I've got to give it up for Once's Glenn Hansard and Marketa Irglova who nailed "Falling Slowly" and hopefully got some more eyes on their fantastic movie (now on DVD). It was very cool to see Glenn playing THAT guitar and whenever he peaked over at Marketa it was perfect.


Runner-up: Amy Adams goes it alone and does an awesome "Happy Working Song." A rough position to be in since the number is greatly benefited by context so I'm sure she felt kind of silly just being up there without gross animal helpers. Meanwhile Kristen Chennowth nails "That's How You Know" to the surprise of no-one (though I think she extended her phrases an awful lot). Quoth the girlfriend "I saw some of the Oscars when I was working out. I know that um I think it was the girl from Wicked, Glinda, did 'That's How You Know.' She was wearing a super weird dress that did not fit her."
Classiest moment: Jon Stewart, following Marketa Irglova being cut-off before getting one word in brings her back on stage for her entire speech, which was pretty great. It's reasons like this that Stewart should be invited back again and again. That and his post modest and earnest Glenn Hansard speech moment of saying "That guy is so arrogant."
Runner-up: Daniel Day-Lewis bows to Helen Mirren. Who then dubs him with the Oscar. Fitting, symbolic, memorable.
Second Runner-Up: Art Director Robert Boyle's honorary Oscar presentation and speech. When you're Hitch's, Jewison's and Siegel's set-designer you've earned it.

Biggest surprise: Tilda Swinton for best supporting actress. I certainly didn't mind it, but no one expected it. Quoth the girlfriend "I think a redehead won for supporting actress and she gave a real good speech which is hard to do. Plus she's very interesting looking."
Runner-up: The Bourne Ultimatum mini-sweep. Good movie to be sure, but come on.

Biggest non-surprise fun anyway: Javier Bardem's win, followed by a sweet and brief speech. He's about to become super-duper famous. Quoth someone at my party (I think it was Katie, could be wrong): "He's the Spanish Clive Owen." Too true.


Fashion Faux-pas: Gracious winner and screenwriter Diablo Cody. Way to not remind everyone of the old gig Ms. Busey. Quoth Frank "This is the first time I've seen someone cry the amount in proportion to how high their slit is."
Fashion Faux-pas: Daniel Day-Lewis rocking not one, BUT TWO earrings. Wait, whats that? DDL can wear any damn thing he pleases? I guess you're right internal monologue.

Biggest death montage snubs: Brad Renfro, Robert Goulet. GOULET!

So bizarre it bears mentioning: Jack Nicholson during his best picture montage presentation , "Each of these film touches the humanity ha-ha-ha inside us." Was he laughing at the whole "touching inside us" thing? What is he, Michael Scott?
Most Coen-esque moment: During their accepting best director Joel says what everyone was thinking "I don't have a lot to add from the last time I was up here. So thank you."

Be Kind, Re-Link

Oscars so close I can smell them. Here are some ways to fill the time until then.

Interviews:
OMAR'S COMIN'! If you live in Baltimore and are on my favorite TV show ever, The Wire, there are no two scarier words. But you dear reader can enjoy the actor who plays Omar, Michael K. Williams, from the safety of your computer right here.
It wouldn't be a Sickness Cinema link roundup without Amy Adams. Here is a kick-ass interview with the Advocate. Surprise, surprise, she was bugging Idina Menzel to sing during the entire shoot, awesome.

Analysis:
Samuraifrog has a thoughtful piece on the sexual undertones (and overtones) in QT's Death Proof right here.
Speaking of Grindhouse, the Deuce has you covered with their list of the 20 greatest grindhouse films of all-time here.
Matt Seitz has a very thoughtful piece on No Country here, even if I continue to wrestle with the film, it still bares reading about. (thanks to Etan for the link)
The New Yorker has an intriguing piece on the Coen's if that last article still leaves you hungry here.

Lists:
The most overrated movies of all time according to AC here. I find myself doing more agreeing than disagreeing.
Entertainment Weekly takes a look at the 100 worst Oscar snubs of all-time here. Don't worry, Miss Adams, you're in good company.
A little late for Valentine's Day but here are five great screen-worthy declarations of love.


And I leave you with this: Behold a talented kid who in mere minutes proves to be more entertaining than the entirety of Across the Universe.

Novel Ideas

The other day I had the opportunity to see William Wyler's 1939 adaptation of Wuthering Heights and can firmly say I enjoyed it. There's a lot to chew on for fans of classic studio era productions, not the least of which being the SUMPTUOUS cinematography of Gregg Toland (Citizen Kane, The Grapes of Wrath) coupled with great gobs of melodrama. What struck me the most about the film is how clever it is in parsing down the non-essential elements (though fans of the novel may disagree) of the story; particularly Cathy and Heathcliff's children.
As we get oh-so-closer to the Oscars I find myself thinking more about adaptations (which comprises a good chunk of the nominated work) and how the various films do and don't work for me. My friend Frank really changed my thinking about No Country by pointing out that the film offers up very little different from the book. This is not to say that the film is not a remarkable technical achievement or has insightful things to say about the modern world, HOWEVER, these are not things that the film itself offers up as an independent work of art, these are things that the story provides as it's own entity. Now compare this to Wuthering Heights which sacrifices huge chunks of plot to streamline the story and make it about one thing and one thing only, the romance of Heathcliff and Catherine. The novel talks about fate and families, social mobility and revenge but the movie is built around the romance. As a result the emotions and dynamics are heightened by the film (especially the lush lighting and cinematography). Now all these themes I mentioned are touched upon in the film but it's not the primary focus. By making the film really clamp down and focus, Wyler is able to make a film that stands on it's own merit.
For me, the best films that start out as books tend to be the one's that streamline or alter their source material. Whether it be There Will Be Blood, The Godfather, Beowulf, Naked Lunch, Jaws or the Unbearable Lightness of Being adaptations are best when they stray away from their source material, otherwise what's the point? Now the moment you start altering things to the point of being unrecognizable then you're screwed BUT as longs as you keep the basics of the story then my feeling with a film is go with it. If you don't believe me ask yourself, which Harry Potter film is your favorite? I can virtually guarantee you it is not the rote first two films of Chris Columbus.

Question for visitors, what are YOUR favorite novel-to-film adaptations and what changes from the source text work for you?

The Jew Abides

I've been chatted up by many, MANY people today about the Coen Brothers picking up a brand new project. Now currently they're working post on the dark political comedy Burn After Reading about C.I.A. agents and starring a couple of nobodies by the names of Clooney, Pitt, Swinton, Malkovich and McDormand (awesome). But their next project is an adaptation of critically acclaimed piece of modern fiction, namely Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Policemen's Union.

This is very exciting and intriguing. Reading YPU was one of those strange experiences wherein I felt like the author was writing just for me. The story concerns an alternate universe where world history is distorted when the newly formed country of Israel is decimated by it's enemies shortly after it becomes a state in 1948. Consequently a temporary Jewish settlement is established in Sitka, Alaska and an entirely new Alaskan-Jewish culture is created. Unfortunately in 2008 the temporary allowance for the Jewish settlement is up. It is against this backdrop that Chabon sets YPU's story; a twisty, funny noir mystery about a tortured detective solving the murder of the would-be messiah. Judaism and noir conventions, together again for the first time. I'm shocked that other people enjoyed this odd mash-up but many critics did and so BOOM here we go movie.

No Country For Old Men is a very impressive technical achievement and a fine addition to the Coen's filmmography but my issue (and Frank pointed this out to me) it's a very rote adaptation. I don't really feel I get anything out of the film I didn't get exactly out of the book. The thing about Yiddish Policeman's Union is that the Coen's would HAVE to alter the story in some ways or else the thing would be completely incomprehensible to a mainstream audience. I mean, this thing is Jewish to the core, will it play in the Peoria?

I know they can nail the noir (I mean come on; Big Lebowski, Miller's Crossing, Fargo, The Man Who Wasn't There-beautiful) but how will the Coen's convey the slang, the history, the culture of Sitka? I don't know, but I'm optimistic. Remember the Coen's were the one that made a generation of young men bellow "Shomer FUCKING SHABBOS!" There is a really shaggy dog vibe that protagonist Meyer Landsman gives off that isn't too far from the Dude (though Meyer is actually competent when he's not drunk). Oh man, this could be really, really good.

I hope they load this thing down with a solid mix of Coen regulars and some fun new faces. Might I recommend Dominic West for Meyer (he deserves to be in something good other than the Wire cause man has he got some shitty movies on his resume). For his enormous half-Tlingit, half-Jewish partner might I recommend Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson in a fat suit (or Dwayne could bust a DeNiro, either way). The Rock is a talented comedian and deserves to be in an honest to god great film and I think this could FINALLY be it. As Meyer's former wife and new boss Bina you'll need a beautiful, firey, classy lady who can deliver noir pater. Hmmmmm, let's check whose blog this is.. oh wait, it's MINE! AMY ADAMS! Boom, done. Let's get Huddleston, Polito and Goodman in there as some Yids too. And it wouldn't be a Coen movie without the corpse of Steve Buscemi.

Oh well now we play the waiting game. This is how we start the post-strike era off right.

How She Link

Got some good ones for you this week, lets start with a pair of very interesting interviews.

Interviews:
Every year Time magazine does a pre-Oscar round table with several of the year's biggest stars. This year was a very impressive and fun grouping that included Daniel Day-Lewis, George Clooney, James McAvoy, Angelina Jolie, Ellen Page and Marion Cotillard. It's fun watching everyone interact; Jolie comes off as serious and aloof, Clooney and McAvoy just enjoy joking around, Page is awestruck by the company and everyone is blown away by Day-Lewis. If you click on any link from this week let it be this one HERE.

Also my good buddy Amir from jakeandamir.com and collegehumor.com got interviewed like an actual famous person right below. I am super proud of him (and slightly jealous). But isn't that what all friendships are about?

Music:
This blog I discovered is completely amazing. It's all about the convergence of pop music and movies. It's amazing and once you visit you'll want to check back daily here.

The Coen's composer, Carter Burwell, has a pretty neat homepage too, right here.

In honor of Rambo:
Someone took the time to count the type and number of kills in all the Rambo movies here. My friend David and I once did this with all the Romero zombie movies and Shaun of the Dead. I think he still has it.

The rise and fall of the action icons of the 80's (the less famous ones anyway) here.

Because you're on THIS site:
Here is an old school Amy Adams interview where I culled a lot of information for my last post on her. Click here to adore her circa Catch Me If You Can.

Also apparently David Hyde-Pierce was going to play Nathaniel in Enchanted and Susan Sarandon has been attached to the movie since 2001. Weird. Also at one point National Treasure's John Turtletaub and Hairspray's Adam Shankman were attached to direct.

I'm talkin' about character

Look at this face, jut look at it.
You've seen him before. Maybe dozens of times. You can probably even hear his voice, lightly Italian accented, when he laughs it seems a little too hard, maybe you've seen him beg with desperation, or crack a yawn like he's been working a case all day. Or maybe you've been lucky enough to see him drive himself into a frenzy yelling to the point of near hoarseness at some flunky who has screwed up. This is the kind of face that fills out the edge of a film, you look at him and think "yeah I know what the deal is, this guy is probably trouble."

They most certainly do NOT make them like Jon Polito anymore that is a fact.

In honor of Jon Polito's birthday, I think a look back at some of his work from a long and storied career is in order. Oh sure there are number of other film related birthdays we COULD be celebrating; pretty boys like Jude Law and Diego Luna, long-time stalwarts like John Voight and Mary Tyler Moore and no doubt the actress-sexuals have Patricia Clarkson covered. But damn it here on The Sickness' Cinema we love guys like Polito. He's the kind of guy who can turn up in a movie and provide that sense of relief where you think "ah at least the next scene with THIS guy will be good." The invaluable resource for character actor fans like me, Hey! It's That Guy puts it succinctly.

Jon Polito just wasn't made for these times.
There used to be an era, back in the days of The Maltese Falcon, Casablanca and Peter Lorre in M, when Hollywood valued the weasel, the slippery rat, and the rotund double-crosser. Unfortunately for Jon Polito, those times are not these times, and we're all the poorer for it.
If you need proof look what happened to him in 1994. Polito, an actor who, with his spherical stature and shifty, sweaty demeanor, often comes across as a snowman made of Crisco had finally procured a feature role on a smart new TV series: that of Detective Steve Crossetti on the critically lauded Homicide: Life on the Street [...] Pre-Homicide, Polito had established himself as an art-house Joe Pesci, a thinking man's Danny DeVito. Now, it seemed, he'd have a weekly national platform from which we could all indulge in his particular talents.
But Homicide's ratings flatlined, and in an effort to improve them, the producers tossed out many of the compelling character actors and trucked in more photogenic, less interesting replacements. Out went Polito, in came the hunky Reed Diamond, and, to our mind, the show was never quite the same.

Getting rid of Polito did illustrate a larger shift in this much beloved police procedural. He did get an excellent goodbye episode where (spoiler alert) his character was found dead, entitled, appropriately enough, "Crossetti." Polito has lucked out since though, being a valued recurring player in the Coen brothers acting ensemble. Polito has appeared in five of the brothers films and in parts of various sizes and is dynamite in all of them. While he may never be a matinee idol the man gets the job done and has been a ubiquitous presence in many a period film and genre picture. Most recently he could be seen as part of Denzel Washington's competition in American Gangster a perfect sort of movie for finding a casting director's ace like Polito.

But Polito has done more, much more. He was Willy Loman's boss in the excellent Dustin Hoffman TV version of Death of a Salesman. He was Mr. Bigelow, the air-field owner in the retroactively beloved The Rocketeer. He infamously thought Dr. Reed was a man and lived the dream by whacking Sarah Chalke on her bottom in an episode of Scrubs. He's menaced superheroes in The Crow and Blankman and beloved children's character in Stuart Little and The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle. He showed up in Flags of Our Fathers and will actually play one of the titular brothers in the forthcoming (and friend of the blog edited) Marconi Brothers. For god sakes the man was in C.H.U.D. Jon Polito is greatness.

But it all comes down to the man's Coen Brothers work. His most famous role to date being Johnny Caspar the villain of the masterwork Miller's Crossing. Caspar cuts a mighty figure, ranting and raving ad making all manner of moves against our "heroes" Gabriel Byrne and Albert Finney. Talking out f one side of his mouth about "morals" and "ethics", while at the other end nearly exploding about being given "the high hat." Polito gets to chew scenery like nobody else.

Look I've talked enough, if you haven't seen it with your own eyes let me SHOW you the greatness that is Polito in this glorious tribute vid that I found honoring Polito before receiving his Cinequest award. It sums him up nicely.

Monday Night Monologue: Get a JOB sir!

Hooray, hooray it's the second week installment of our recurring feature Monday Night Monologue. This one comes from another personal favorite which also happens to arguably be the greatest film comedy of all-time. A film that features, well, I wouldn't call him a hero exactly, but some sort of a man. The movie that made being shomer shabbas cool. The movie that taught us that nobody fucks wit da Jesus. Have you guessed yet?

With all the hyperbole being thrown at No Country For Old Men (of which I will cop to being a part of back in the long ago days of the blog-a whole two plus weeks ago) it might be tempting to forget that the Coen's already have several classics under their belt (I'm thinking Miller's Crossing, Barton Fink, O Brother... and some other people like Fargo not so much me). The Big Lebowski absolutely belongs on that list of Coen classics. The film is endlessly re-watchable and ultra-quotable. Every character so rich and fascinating that they could each easily support their own film. Though the twists and turns of plot may be as convoluted as the Chandler inspired plots the film is satirizing the basic set-up is straightforward enough.

Generally affable The Dude (a blissfully chill Jeff Bridges) has had his mellow harshed by nihilist thugs who demand money from him and have the nerve to pee on his rug (which is a shame as it really tied the room together). It turns out that the villains have mistaken The Dude (who used to go by Jeff Lebowski) with crippled philanthropist millionaire Jeffrey Lebowski (David Huddleston). Seeking compensation, The Dude confronts old-man Lebowski, the titular Big Lebowski. It doesn't go well. The bit I'm talking about is at 3:53 but you could do worse then watching the whole clip.

Mr. Lebowski: My wife is not the issue here! I hope that some day my wife will learn to live on the allowance, which is ample, but if she does not that is her problem not mine. Just as the rug is your problem. Just as every bum's lot in life is his own responsibility, regardless of who he chooses to blame. I didn't blame anyone for the loss of my legs. Some Chinaman took them from me in Korea, but I went out and achieved anyway. Heh, heh. Now I cannot solve your problems sir, only you can.

The Dude: Oh fuck it.

Mr. Lebowski: "Oh, fuck it." Yes, that's your answer, that's your answer to everything. Tattoo it onto your forehead. Your revolution is over Mr. Lebowski. Condolences, the bums lost. My advice to you is to do what your parents did and get a job sir! The bums will always lose, do you hear me Lebowski? The bums will always lose!

Good lord does Huddleston give good blowhard. Then again the Coen's have a bottomless stable of portly, robust, old, cranky white guys (Huddleston, Charles Durning, John Goodman, John Polito). I laugh every time he gets to the part about the bums always losing. Also amusing is the un-noticed dissonance between "Chinaman" and "Korea." I also particularly enjoy how completely un-phased Bridges is by the whole explosion, it's at best a nuisance, not anywhere near the life changing scolding the real Lebowski thinks he's giving.

Till next time, the blog abides.

A pair of Aces but you won't be smiling

Here's a fine way to kick off the blog, a look at two of the high profile, critically acclaimed crime films that were released this winter. The two films have a lot of superficial similarities; they're both about botched criminal endeavors, they're both brilliantly made and they're both incredibly bleak . Stylistically though they could not be more different. I am speaking about the gruesome two-some that is No Country for Old Men and Before the Devil Knows You're Dead.
No Country is the Coen's Adaptation of the acclaimed book of the same name by Cormac McCarthy. McCarthy's minimalist dialogue and elegant prose may seem to break with the more verbose Coen's (Hudsucker Proxy, O Brother and Miller's Crossing all have their share of motormouths), but the pairing is a match made in cinematic heaven. The Coen's nail this adaptation, serving both the plot and characters, while loading it with extravagant cinematic flourishes.The plot: Llewelyn Moss (having a wonderful year Josh Brolin) is a good-old-boy out hunting when he stumbles upon the bloody aftermath of a drug deal gone horribly wrong (they even killed the dog). Llewelyn recovers the money but his conscience can't leave well enough alone. He goes back to the scene of the crime to help one of the half-dead men who was begging for water and soon he's being chased by all manner of disreputable folks, the absolute most terrifying of which is Anton Chigurh (soon to be Oscar front-runner Javier Bardem). Llewelyn's fleeing girlfriend (Irish-gal Kelly MacDonald with a flawless accent) is in turn trailed by old-fashioned values personified Sheriff Ed Tom Bell (an at home Tommy Lee Jones). Sheriff Bell is desperate to find and help Moss before the Biblical showdown between Moss and Chigurh can take place. Along the way the moral decay of the world is considered by Sheriff Bell who frequently thinks back to kinder, gentler times.
If Lee Jone's character is a relic from this better, less twisted time, his antithesis is Bardem's Chigurh. With a cold dead stare, creepy Prince Valiant 'do and monster-ish gait, he is every inch a terrifying and imposing figure. He is dark, twisted and guided into making his killing blows by something as capricious as a coin toss (comic book dork irony: this schtick seems awful similar to the Batman villain Two-Face [once played terribly by Tommy Lee Jones in Batman Forever] whose coin toss bit was no doubt at least partially inspired by the coin flipping of Tony Camonte in Hawks' original Scarface). In a marvelous scene where he's cornered MaDonald, Chigurh flatly orders her to call a side of the coin and she desperately begs him to just let her go. There's no reason for him to kill her, his motivation has been taken from him, but Chigurh's so unflinchingly set in his destructive ways that once he's started he can't even begin to comprehend how to stop. He is the all consuming, all destroying, unfeeling end of the world.
On a technical level alone, No Country is a pretty staggering achievement. The Coen's can make the film go from contemplative to incredibly tense with unparalleled skill and guile. Passive scenes in hotel rooms become Hitchcockian nail-biters with nary a line of dialogue in sight. One scene in particular features Llewelyn finally thinking he's checked into a safe, secure motel, but just to be sure he dials the front desk. No one picks up. Cut to downstairs and the clerk who had previously been stationed there is nowhere to be seen. Only a cat and its milk saucer. Cut back to Llewelyn and we can hear foot-steps coming down the hall. Llewelyn grabs his considerable rifle and positions himself on the bed, ready for anything. Cut to POV of Llewelyn staring at the door and we see a shadow appear under the door. Everything is still for what seems like an eternity and then the shadow moves away from the door. Both the audience and Llewelyn and the audience breathe a sigh of relief. Only to gasp as the lights in the hallway are shut off and we hear those footsteps and then BOOM we're off to the races.

While there are few laughs to be had and you won't walk out of the theatre with good feelings toward humanity at all, the film is a more than worthy addition to the impressive cannon of the Coen's. Less a character piece and more a look at decay on several thematic levels, the Coen's have found a real partner in McCarty's epic. After a few lean years it would seem that the brother's have righted themselves with a grim classic crime drama that stands up admirably to the likes of Miller's Crossing, Blood Simple and Fargo.

A quick word before moving onto our second film. The foley work and sound design in No Country is astonishing. The impact of the bullets and cattle canons will make you either jump or claw at your seat. I think people sometimes forget how terrifying the sound of a gun can be but the film does not let up and indulges in some serious aural assault. A quick trip to the imdb reveals that the film's sound designer isCraig Berkey Berkey has spent a good chunk of his career working on all sorts of loud, exploding noises in some of the major studio blockbusters of the last decade (Transformers, the X-Men films etc). Berkey's work here shows he is capable of some seriously nuanced sound design that can create a serene sense of calm and then irrevocably shatter it.

The other excellent downer out now is Before the Devil Knows You're Dead. Sidney Lumet, the film's director neatly personifies the term living legend. Now in his eighties, Before shows that Lumet is still capable of incredibly rich story-telling in a career where he has already won a lifetime achievement Oscar. This is not to say that Lumet has had a flawless career but ultimately his hits (12 Angry Men, Dog Day Afternoon and Network to name but a few) far outweigh his misses (Gloria, The Wiz, A Stranger Among Us). Lumet certainly knows how to shoot a botched heist and Before gives him a massive screw-up to orchestrate and circle around like a hungry vulture.
The story features Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke as brothers. Both are rather put upon in their own way and both are desperate for cash. Hoffman needs it so he can give up his job as a broker and reinvigorate his married life in Rio with wife Marissa Tomei (utilizing her intense sexuality and still impressive physique to manipulate the men she crosses paths with). Hawke, a whiny loser, needs the money to earn back his self-respect and the respect of his divorced wife (the once again stellar Wire vet Amy Ryan) and their daughter. Hoffman hatches the plan to rob their parents jewelry store. They know exactly how the store operates, where the money is, which jewels are most valuable and knows that the insurance will cover the robbery. Its perfect, practically a victimless crime. Of course, things manage t go catastrophically wrong.

The story is played to the hilt by all parties involved. There are some incredibly meaty scenes here and Hoffman, Hawke, Tomei and Albert Finney as the mens' father, bite into them with relish. There is a particularly telling scene in the movie where Hawke goes to watch his daughter in a performance of King Lear. His daughter is playing Edgar who gives the denouement of the play urging members of the audience to "Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say." Oh if only the characters could heed the advice. Hoffman's character desperately wants to seem cool and collected, a ball-busting Mamet character, but the story ultimately reveals him to be just as desperate, cowardly and unthinking as his brother. Hoffman however cues us into the fact that Finney is not the saint that the film would have us believe he is, while Hawke is at first cloying and obnoxious he grows increasingly sympathetic and pitiable as the story turns downwards.
The real find here is rookie screenwriter Kelly Masterson who has crafted a deeply felt, emotionally resonant character study in the midst of a genuinely intense and gripping thriller. The film has numerous opportunities to delve into Paul Haggis-eqsue miserablism but manages to steer clear away. The script is simply too taut to get into such emo hand-wringing. There's more story to tell, we'll let the characters have their moment to assess what's going on but not much more, the stakes are too high, the engine must keep running. Masterson fractures her screenplay, playing havoc with the continuity, cutting back and forth to before and after the heist. She starts us off with Hoffman's impetus for the crime, then with no other information we're seeing it unfold. Then we cut back to a few days before. At first its jarring, but once the viewer is accustomed to it one begins to see that Masterson is peeling away layers that increasingly up the stakes and provide disturbing twists that skew the viewers perspective on what they're looking at and what they've seen.

If Before is any indication, Lumet still has plenty of verve in him to crank out a couple more small, but powerful film gems. I hope he gets the opportunity as Before is just the antidote to the bigger, more attention grabbing winter releases.