Miracle at St. Anna

Dir: Spike Lee (2008)

Spike Lee has achieved what he has been dreaming about all his life: he has made a WWII movie centered on black soldiers that is just as bad as the ones Hollywood churned out during the war and just after. Trouble is, we are in the next century already! The war movie has been refined a bit since the 1940s (but apparently the only war movie Spike has seen since then is "Saving Private Ryan" (because he borrows from it shamelessly). His longtime music collaborator, Terrence Blanchard, uncharacteristically follows suit: his soundtrack is chock-full of every rehashed, hackneyed musical motif from all of those war movies combined! (This from the man who gave us the original and electrifying musical background to last year's "Inside Man." I wouldn't expect him to lay an egg, too.)

I will not start at the beginning, because the 'framing device' of a story set in the present is so mishandled that it rivals the other worse parts of the movie. The initial battle action faced by this unit of all-black soldiers is straight out of the first half-hour of Spielberg's SPR. Then Lee reverts to standard, cliche-driven hokum (also a feature of SPR) as we get to know the four members of group who are stranded on the wrong side of an Italian river. Individually, these young and mostly unknown actors are convincing, even likeable. I do not doubt for a minute the racism they endured in the US Army and in American society as a whole, either. But Lee's depiction of this racism is so ham-handed and obvious that it is embarrassing to watch. [For a parallel, see mentor Spielberg (again) in his absolute worst movie: "The Color Purple."]

But that's not the worst part of the movie. At the movie's centerpiece is an atrocity committed by the Nazis in a Tuscan village called Sant'Anna di Stazzema (where the movie was actually filmed): 560 civilians were gunned-down by the retreating SS. An unspeakable act that needs to be remembered and the lives of those victims honoured. For this sequence, I would have applauded Lee for taking a page from Spielberg's note-perfect "Schindler's List" on the proper, respectful way to depict such an atrocity in an entertainment vehicle. Instead, he treats it with all the subtlety (and historical accuracy) of Roland Emmerich's "The Patriot," i.e., none. (You remember that detestable Revolutionary War pic (with Mel Gibson & Heath Ledger), that had the nerve to depict the British soldiers on an equal plane of depravity as the Nazis!)

Here, Lee has come under fire from Italian survivors for inventing a character of a turncoat partisan who plays a part in the massacre. It is justified fire, from what I have read: it is these peoples' history, after all. They deserve to have it told to the world accurately. My beef is in the way Lee points his unblinking camera at every bullet-ridden civilian at the point of their murder, and then goes back to give us a shot of 'artfully-posed,' blood-streaked corpses. Most directors know when to show the brutality outright, and when it would be more powerful to show the aftermath. Lee cannot resist showing us both -- every time. The effect is dulling and vulgar. When Lee inevitably shows a crying baby on top of her dead mother, the audience's emotion is not sympathy or dread, it is "I can't believe he is stooping this low" (to show us a baby getting bayoneted). But stoop he literally does: you guessed it, he films the hovering Nazi from the perspective of the baby!

But that's not the worst part of the movie! Remember the framing device I said I wouldn't mention? Not only does it make a long movie interminable, it is filled with the worst collection of 'look-at-who-my-friends-are' cameos since Burt Reynolds hung up his car keys! Every one of them is out-of-place and completely unnecessary to the plot: John Turturro, ___ Gordon-Levitt, Kerry Washington, but especially, ESPECIALLY the pointless appearance by John Leguizamo! Somebody please explain to me why his scene was ever necessary? It ends with his newspaper flying out the window and landing on a key character's table. Why couldn't that character have just BOUGHT THE FREAKIN' PAPER! (I just saved five minutes of screen time, right there). Sheesh, Spike, sheesh ....

Sacred & Profane

Religulous

(D: Larry Charles; 2008)

This is the sacred one

You know Larry Charles: he's the guy who forced "Borat" on an unsuspecting world. He's at it again--making fun of unsuspecting fools, that is. I suppose it is tempting to appear on camera, no matter the circumstance (why else would people still agree to sit with a 'Daily Show' correspondent?). But the technique -- which can be amusing up to a point -- soon becomes tedious. And its more of the same here: why make a thoughtful critique of religion in today's society when you can just make fun of the wingnuts?

This movie is a veritable parade of wingnuts. I don't blame Bill Maher--he is a comedian first, so it is natural for him to go for the joke every chance he gets. But time after time, all we get are snippets of interviews with the most extreme members of one faith or another (Christians, Muslims, Jews, pot smokers) . Even the serious commentators who agreed to appear (scientist Francis X. Collins is the only one who comes to mind) get the same treatment: anytime anyone comes close to thoughtfully challenging Maher's premise, the movie quick-cuts to Mormon cartoons or an evangelical/Godspell song-and-dance number.

In the most-egregious example of this technique, the filmmakers send a film crew all the way to Vatican City, yet don't bother to find a more competent advocate of the Catholic faith than some nut Maher interviews on the street!

The best part of the movie comes towards the end, when Maher goes to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. Here I actually learn something--but it comes much too late to save this picture. In what should be the movie's strong point, the equivalent of Maher's closing "Real Time" essay, where he looks into the camera and delivers a scathing attack on the latest outrage of the day, is undermined by this hack director, who insists on diverting our attention with an MTV-montage of violence and extremism (which we are supposed to take "on faith" was religion-inspired) while Maher's point is completely drowned out. If Charles was striving for a "call to action" moment, like the end of "An Inconvenient Truth," he fails miserably. If Charles thinks he can clone the Michael Moore formula, he has only left out the intelligence, the wit, and the courage to confront an issue head-on.

Now for the good stuff . . . The Profane:

Choke

(D: Stuart Gregg; 2008)

The author of "Fight Club" penned this outrageous look at a sex addict who works in a Williamsburg-type colonial village by day, and by night cons people into giving him money after they save his life by performing the Heimlich maneuver on him (and in-between visits his mother in a mental institution). That's the best synopsis I can give, but it fails to convey the hilarious sordidness of the piece. This guy--and the people he interacts with -- are real losers! But the creators of this indie hit have an obvious fondness for these oh-so damaged characters, which is conveyed in every committed, whacked-out performance: from Sam Rockwell in the lead, to the great Anjelica Huston as the deranged mother, to Kelly Macdonald (last seen in "No Country For Old Men"), down to the perfect supporting turns by Heather Burns ("Miss Congeniality I & II"), newcomer Gillian Jacobs (as a stripper named Cherry Daiquiri--"not her real name") and the director himself. You might not have heard of this movie--it is not to everyone's taste--but neither was "Fight Club". . . and you remember the first rule of Fight Club, don't you?

Tropic Thunder

(D: Ben Stiller, 2008)

(Profane, part II)

The summer comedy blockbuster of the year!
Ben Stiller nails it, in his scathing send-up of all of our worst fears about Hollywood's egotism, excess, greed, and crassness. To wit: Actors are pompous asses, and so is everyone else in Hollywood! No, that's not a revelation, but never has it been driven home so relentlessly. Outrageous and offensive it is -- but it has to be! Not since Austin Powers (I) has a comedy been this silly, daring, ridiculous and laugh-out-loud funny throughout.

For better or worse, Stiller has developed his craft at the feet of the Farrelly Brothers, which becomes obvious in the movie's most controversial segment (repeated references to the leading man's role in a movie as a mentally-challenged man, in a blatant attempt to earn an Oscar). But the at-times uncomfortable laughs are at the expense of an industry that will exploit anyone, not at the expense of the so-called 'retarded.'

Yes, Tom Cruise is great in a supporting role --I've known that since "magnolia." It is Robert Downey, Jr. who steals the show, however, proving to be equally adept at comedy as he is at drama (witness last year's "Zodiac.")

Vicky Christina Barcelona

D: Woody Allen (2008)

Here's the funny thing--it turns out I liked Vicky better than Christina or Barcelona! That's not what I expected from the reviews, trailers, even the poster: Vicky is barely in any of them (if at all). Yet Vicky (played by British stage actress Rebecca Hall) has more screen time than either of the two female leads: Scarlett Johansson (the titular Christina) or Penelope Cruz (Maria Elena). What I really like about her is that she's uptight, intellectual, and brunette--a combination I have never been able to resist.

Christina, on the other hand, is blonde, flirty, and can't hold her liquor.

In her defense, who wouldn't jump at the chance to spend a weekend in the Spanish countryside with Javier Bardem? (I mean it beats 'Rodanthe'-- I don't even know where that is!!) As for the third woman in this love quadrangle, Woody Allen makes us wait a good hour before Penelope Cruz even makes an appearance! It is effective in one sense: after all the anticipation, she blazes a hole in the screen when she arrives and shakes up their world.

[SIDEBAR: I can't think of another foreign actress who is so markedly better in her native tongue than she is in English. If you need proof (and have Netflix), rent Abre los ojos, Vanilla Sky, Volver, and Woman on Top -- and watch them back-to-back-to-back. I dare you!!]

The movie unfolds as an adult exploration of love, passion, fear, and perpetual dissatisfaction with life... all the uncomfortable issues you expect in a Woody Allen film. I must say, getting him out of Manhattan has really rejuvenated his filmmaking.

On the other hand (there is always another hand) the film's drawbacks are apparent: Penelope Cruz is so good, you wish the movie were about her! Her scenes with Bardem show such untapped potential: that is the core relationship in the movie -- I wish it had been explored more. (How often do you get the 'King & Queen of Spanish Cinema' in the same movie, after all!) Second, the narration is rather bland. I don't know if its the fault of the script or the narrator, but if you are going to use that device, why not use it to its full advantage by providing some insight? Third, the climactic scene is somewhat of a dud, even though the movie ends on a satisfactory, wistful note that remains consistent with the overall tone of the film. And the too-few scenes of Barcelona's landmarks look strangely washed out.

Back to the first hand, the Spanish guitar-heavy soundtrack is awesome!! It really puts you in the place. (The opening theme alone is worth the price of admission). Book my flight now! (as soon as the dollar rebounds).

Rebecca Hall at Cannes