Funny How Fallin' Feels Like Flyin'

In a splash of autumnal browns and golds the weathered visage of Jeff Bridges steps into some dive-bar spotlight, picks up his guitar and sings, barely out of a drunken stupor about how "fallin' feels like flyin'." It's an apt description for rookie director Scott Cooper's Crazy Heart. The film, which at its core about an alcoholic hitting rock bottom and pulling his life together, is never crushingly somber and often quite a joy to watch. The film, while small and simple in scope, is masterfully acted and manages to be pensive without ever becoming maudlin.
At the heart of the film is Jeff Bridge's Bad Blake, a country singer whose musical repertoire feels like a hybrid of Merle Haggard and Leonard Cohen. Blake, who was once a renowned songwriter and performer, has fallen on hard times and is now reduced to playing in bowling alleys and spending his nights either with floozy fans, booze, or more often than not, both. Blake is a masterful creation, a perfect synthesis of all the elements that have made Bridges the one of the most respected actor/stars of the past several decades. As Blake, Bridges has the wry likability of The Dude, the frustration of Duane Jackson and on stage the control of President Evans. Things slowly begin to turn around for Blake when he meets Maggie Gyllenhaal's reporter Jean. She's a single mom who is seeking an interview with Blake and the two quickly fall into an easy chemistry. At first Jean wants to maintain a professional distance, but she quickly gives in. They're too knowing to play the games of young lovers and Gyllenhaal brings a sinewy sensuality to her early scenes with Bridges. She doesn't just like him because it says so in the script, these characters work, even when they make bad decisions.
As the bond between Bad, Jean and her son deepens, Bad is moved to try to reinvigorate his career and reconnects with his new-country superstar protege Tommy Sweet (an always improving Colin Farrell). Of course the road to redemption is beset by all kinds of obstacles and while Bad does get his priorities straight, it is at great personal cost. If this is all starting to feel like a country music version of the Wrestler the comparison is apt. However, Cooper is a little less inclined toward melodrama than Aronofsky. He never pushes or manipulates and is content in keeping things as quiet as need be. The film takes its time and the viewing experience is richer for it. Cooper has an amazing cast of performers and lets them hold the stage, letting the audience enjoy genuine moments.

There are millions of tiny, wonderful details that puts Bridges alongside Christoph Waltz and Colin Firth as delivering one the finest male performances of the year. First off, there is Bridge's appearance. Bad Blake is a wreck of a once attractive man, he has let himself go. Bridges looks like a wet muskrat; scraggy haired, salt and pepper hair, leading each scene with his gut. Yet underneath it all there are still traces and swagger of a star and the composure of a professional. Take for example a scene where Bad is playing as a warm-up act for Tommy and Tommy sneaks up behind him to the delight of the audience. A broader film would have a more stated reaction from Bad, perhaps chagrin or surprise, but Bridges always aware of the character has Bad give Tommy a quick tip of his hat to Tommy. It's such a tiny moment but it's gloriously authentic, Bad is functional enough and lived enough that he knows how to deal with this sort of thing. Another scene finds Bad and his friend Wayne (a majestic Robert Duvall) on a boat as Bad recovers from a nasty hangover. It's a quiet moment where the two men hold the screen with idle chatter, quiet singing and fishing. It's the type of moment that is generally absent from mainstream American cinema. The audience isn't bombarded with flash but instead is embraced by quiet.

Oh and I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the sensational songs by T. Bone Burnett and Stephen Bruton. Honestly, I defy you to see this movie and not want the soundtrack immediately after. Bridges may not have the prettiest voice in the world but he has the chops to pull off each song. I could see them fitting seamlessly into a country jukebox between Kris Kristoferson and Waylon Jennings. There is so much to recommend about this film. Though I'm curious to see if it's just the exceptional alchemy of the actors and their material or if Cooper really has the goods as a director.

Iron Helps Us Play

You know what? Screw waiting I feel like I'm the last person on the internet to be talking about it. Iron Man is the best pure blockbuster film of the last, let's call it five years. What's most gratifying about the movie's success is that the film dazzles and delights in it's smaller moments as much as it does during the big set-pieces. The reason behind it's success? Simple: Robert Downey Jr, quite simply the best special effect in a summer movie to come along in a long time.

Downey Jr's portrayal of the "cool exec with the heart of steel", Tony Stark, is invigorating, exciting and most importantly fun. I've no doubt watching The Dark Knight and it's impressive roster of talent will take my breathe away later this summer but I sincerely doubt I'll be having nearly as much fun in the theater. Downey plays the comedy to the hilt, he's got "fuck you" money and at the movie's start he's more than happy to revel in his hedonism with gambling, women and booze (the man has the coolest looking liquor cabinet in movie history-and it's PORTABLE). He's just so damn fun. But what's more remarkable is that Downey handles Stark's dramatic (his post-kidnapping press conference-getting the press to sit down on the ground-it's so bizarre it comes off as authentic), romantic (his encounter with Pepper Potts at the gala) and impassioned moments (watching the news report of the Ten Rings attack) with just as much aplomb. It's a rare superhero picture that makes you long to see the man out of the costume as much as you want to see him in it. Downey is electrifying in more than one sense of the word, he invigorates his co-stars who would otherwise be sleep-walking through a big action comic book movie any way (I remember you in Sky Captain Gwenyth, I don't forget).
Devin Faraci over at CHUD really nailed it right on the head in his review stating that the film scores it's highest marks in character and tone. Downey brings the character and Favreau and his writers (Mark Fergus and Hawk Ostby of Children of Men) bring the tone. It'd be very simple to have Tony be incredibly mournful about the death and destruction around him that has by-in-large been caused by him, plenty of opportunities for big sloppy, soppy melodrama (and we all know how well THAT worked out for Toby crying every three minutes Maguire). However, Iron Man remains breezy fun even in it's non-superhero moments. It's brisk, energetic and the script keeps the proceedings a delight from start to finish (a finish which really underlines that overriding sense of fun that permeates the film). Sure the film follows the standard first superhero movie formula, but it finds original ways to overcome and twist that formula. The film breezes through it's exposition opening en media res with Tony Stark getting attacked and captured in the Middle East and then flashing back in an exposition dispensing award sequence where the "before" Tony gets revealed to the audience. You'd think that that a billionaire, screw-around, playboy, weapons designer would be the last role-model for audiences to lash onto, but Downey charms with the material, not in spite of it. We latch onto him because he has a can-do attitude, his conflicts (like being near fatally wounded) are just problems that can be over come with ingenuity and spirit.
If we're going to get nit-picky, I will say that none of the actors (as talented as they are) can even touch Downey. Sure they raise their game when he's around, but make no mistake who's the star of this movie. The moment he leaves a scene the other performers feel just a touch limp. They're fine, bu not GREAT. Paltrow's Pepper Potts has the verve and spunk one would expect from the character (and is given way more to do then I would've ever imagined). Howard and Downey have a nice, easy chemistry that makes the two a fun pair but I don't think Howard will find his "oomph" in the role until he becomes War Machine. Jeff Bridges gives an oddball verve to Stark's antagonistic business partner Obadiah Stane but when he turns villainous it's as though Bridges is out of ideas and plays it rather obviously. Additionally the score is flat, uninspiring and unmemorable, I certainly wish Marvel got iconic music that was worthy of their iconic characters.

Once the Iron Man armor comes to the fore it's Favreau's time to shine. His reliance on equal parts practical effects as well as cgi makes the suit believable and a really powerful and visually dynamic piece of work. When Tony in his mark II armor makes goes into action it's a real "hell yeah!" moment for the audience. Iron Man is a big, dangerous, incredibly cool piece of technology. It really feels as though the armors in this movie are functional and exist in the real world. Which makes it all the better when two suits of armor duke it out at the end it doesn't feel like two cgi characters bashing each other, two avatars. No, it's two characters and there are stakes here, life and death, ideologies.
Now I need to reveal my nerd bias a bit. The movie is littered with nerd references and allusions that only comic fans will get (but they never overwhlem the film and make it impossible to enjoy). You get references to War Machine, the Roxxon Corporation, SHIELD, the Mandarin, Jarvis, Happy Hogan and a lot more (especially at the end) and I got squeal-ish at all of the film. Especially the SHIELD agents. I mean, if those are SHIELD agents then there is SO much more happening on the periphery in the world of the film. It's...very exciting.

Guys, Iron Man, Seriously

The tickets are bought, the armor inspired outfit is set-aside and the nerdgasm noises are being practiced (EEEEEE!) we are less than 24 hours away from the summer movie season people. I'll be seeing Iron Man Saturday night (Baby Mama will serve as a Friday night appertif so expect reviews for both this weekend). The advance word is extremely positive see, see! Get excited people. I can't even think about anything else right now, it's Tony Stark's world and we're just living in it. Kind of like the actual Marvel Universe, watch out for Skrulls.

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.