Imagine Bette Davis in
All About Eve, the devastating cutting wit, the constant need to be the center of attention in every situation. Got it? Now drain Bette of her regal bearing, her empathy, her self-confidence and up the venom quotient 100%. You've got Nicole Kidman's Margot in
Margot at the Wedding.
Noah Baumabch's (
The Squid and the Whale,
Kicking and Screaming) latest feature is his most aggressively edited to date. Chugging along at a brisk hour and a half run time, scenes cut from one to the next barely giving the audience recover from one blistering emotional assault to the next. Its a nice instance of style serving content as the movie feels like a Margot insult; quick but packing enormous bite. The story features Margot, a successful short story writer visiting her estranged sister (Jennifer Jason Leigh-solid as always) on the eve of her engagement to a good natured but immature loser (Jack Black unusually subdued). "This is the kind of guy we
rejected in high school" says Margot of Black. Margot visits with all sorts of baggage, not the least f which being her son (Zane Paris) who at her best she barely respects all the while keeping him at arms length. Margot's not much of a mother. Margot is in fact not much of a good anything; wife, sister, neighbour, adulteress, friend, its all a mess. Incredibly self-possessed and incapable of decent social behavior for anything more than a second or two. Margot's mantra seems to be "Were you just talking about me?" She's impossible to like.
Which is of course why I love her. The film may not work for people unfamiliar with Baumbach's typically acidic tone and less than huggable characters. But if one is willing to get their hands dirty there's lots of laughs to be found in
Margot. The movie has two impeccable strengths going for it. First is Baumabch's script, which though talky, never falls into the trap
of having characters say exactly what they mean. Meaning has to be inferred more by action and what goes unsaid and Margot has plenty of compelling bits at both ends of the spectrum. The film's other asset is Kidman who lords over the proceedings with inescapable presence. Its her best work in years and in playing such a flawed, human character she sheds the calculating, unapproachable, ice-queen veneer she's been slowly creating for herself (something
The Golden Compass will not help I'm afraid). While all the performances yield solid, naturalistic results (Black hardly ever dips into his comedic bag of tricks and its quite refreshing), Kidman is absolutely the main attraction. Probably my favorite female performance all year. Or at least that's what I would've said until last night.
What a phenomenal challenge for a director it must be to adapt a very distinct voice while adding your own particular voice to it. What a delight it must be one succeeds at it so spectacularly. Such is the case with Wes Anderson's adaptation of Roald Dahl's Fantastic Mr. Fox. Despite reports of a very tumultuous work environment Anderson and his masterful collabrators in the field of stop-motion have made a stunning world filled with great visual enchantment.
Anderson has always had a designer's eye, where even the most minute detail of books, board games, posters and utensils is properly framed and place in every room. Orson Welles once described movie-making as playing in "the world's greatest model train set" and Anderson is the sort who has given a great deal of consideration to his set's landscape. Anderson and his crew have created a breath-taking world for Mr. Fox, his family, friends and enemies to inhabit. Though if the film were just eye-candy it would not be nearly as satisfying. What Anderson has managed to capture is Mr Fox's beguiling wickedness and amorality. He never for a moment lets us forget that these are animals who are bound to unleash their inner-beastly natures no matter how well-tailored heir tweed or attempts at honest living. Dahl's work is peppered with such encouragement toward mischief and craftiness and that has been well ported into the film.
Helping this abounding sense of craftiness is the astute casting of George Clooney, the modern age's best movie star as well as a great actor. Clooney is no stranger to playing scoundrels and rascals and his most boffo box-office has come from playing the oh-so-slick Danny Ocean so just hearing his voice coming from the Mr. Fox stop-motion figure gives the character his chops. Anderson does equally well in casting voice talent whose voice make perfect signifiers for what their character is all about. Meryl Streep as a moral centered Mrs. Fox, Jason Schwartzman (easily the highlight) as the mopey emo son, Ash, Bill Murray as a cantankerous Badger and Michael Gambon as the surly leader of the evil farmers. Oh, I mustn't forget my personal favorite Willem Dafoe as a former compatriot of Mr. Fox who now works for the farmers. He's a knife wielding loony who moves like a West Side Story dancer accompanied by a scintillating bit of score by Alexandre Desplat channeling Ennio Moricone. Its these sort of oddball details that make each of the characters memorable and not just disposable would-be merchandise opportunities for a studio.
Indeed the film retains a creation of independent spirit. It mocks the popular children's film convention of advocating the bizarre and odd-ball. When Mrs. Fox tells Ash "Everyone is a little different" he flatly denies her "I don't want to be different." In a way the film succeeds in a way that Spike Jonze's Where the Wild Things Are doesn't. Anderson has created a film based on a childrens' book that specifically appeals to adults but can be enjoyed by anyone, whereas I'd hard pressed to think of a child who could enjoy or appreciate Jonze film (which I would favorably describe as a Bergman film covered in fur with a blood transfusion from Jackass). Anderson has created a film full of charms to delight the senses for young and old.
