The Happy Prince (2018)

Score: 2.5 / 5

In what is clearly a labor of love, Rupert Everett has delved deep into the character and cultural product that was Oscar Wilde. He fully attempts to embody his hero through acting; he channels absolute creative power, moreover, as writer and director. The film's central metaphor -- that of the eponymous story Wilde would tell children -- is voiced-over in sporadic intervals that creates amazing dramatic tension against the story we see. And while The Happy Prince works hard to educate and celebrate, it is almost never happy and only occasionally made me happy.

To be fair, it's not meant to. Wilde's biting wit and savage sensibilities have been the subject of countless works; this story, however, dramatizes the much-less-known time after his trial and imprisonment with hard labor. In fact, the film is almost exclusively concerned with his aging, his trauma, his despair, and his death. Obese, alcoholic, and weak, he stumbles his way across the screen and through the film, slurring words with a voice that was, surely, once beatific. He's selfish and pitiful, wallowing in misery and poverty while wasting away on gluttonous sin. And, true enough to the time and artist, he preys upon the youthful. I found Everett's representation of what amounts to abuse disturbing -- especially in light of current social movements -- and the pedophilia was not contextualized in the slightest, leaving even someone who knows plenty about Wilde's life confused as to the message being delivered in this film.

Everett views the story, thankfully, not as a straightforward biopic but rather as an expressionistic exhibition of Wilde's state of being. The camera pays close attention to color and light, texture and warmth, and we are left with a clear sensation of a man decaying within his own mind. We are forced to hear endless voiceovers, mostly narrated from snippets of Wilde's story that clash royally with what's happening narratively. It all becomes a dreamlike prison, a maze of audio and visual cues we follow for two good reasons: One, we aren't sure what the purpose is, and two, it's clear the aesthetic is so strictly controlled we don't want to impose ourselves upon it.

This latter point is why, in my opinion, the movie ultimately fails. In depicting so much suffering and failure, the film would have done well to engage the audience, letting Wilde get under our skin and into our hearts. Then again, that might not be faithful to the real Wilde. But the film instead alienates us from him even as it forces us into his headspace. He's totally unlikable but we still manage to feel everything he's going through. It becomes a sort of out-of-body experience, and it took all I could to stay alert, trying to piece together the film before me. Only too clear were Everett's efforts; if only he made his final product as accessible to us as it is for him.

I'm left with a conundrum. Am I impressed with Everett's performance but not his screenplay? Am I impressed with his direction but not his performance? For every compliment I can afford him, I find at least two complaints, but in different aspects. Let us leave it thus: It's a weird movie that deserves a place on the Wilde shelf but certainly not as an end-piece. And it certainly won't make anyone very happy.

IMDb: The Happy Prince

The Titan (2018)

Score: 1.5 / 5

Netflix's newest sci-fi thriller mashes together The Fly with something that might be Prometheus fanfiction. That is to say, while it's not terrible, it's a mess.

In a not-so-distant future, the overpopulated and war-torn Earth is looking to Titan, one of Saturn's moons, as a possible new home. Sam Worthington (is he playing a character, or just himself? I never really know) is recruited by Tom Wilkinson (forget the character names; they're unimportant) for an experimental training program that will prepare humans for the extreme conditions of the alien moon. The rigorous training and horrific experiments claim the lives of most of the team, and when Worthington is finally left standing as the sole success, he is no longer entirely human.

The Titan really wants to be profound, and I think that's what makes it fall flat. It centers on abstract ideas about human identity, evolution, and exploration. The heart of the story, it would seem, is not with the test subject himself but with his wife and son. The two watch, horrified, as their beloved man is injected and augmented with animal DNA and traits until he becomes a forced evolution of humanity. Homo titanien, he is labeled. What a crock. He looks like the bluish, scaly Engineer from the Alien franchise and can't communicate. He's a Frankenstein monster, but then the film lurches into a bizarre conspiracy mess about government agencies and money and other boring stuff that allows Wilkinson to be wicked. The film wants to be scientific but neglects to explore novel questions and possibilities: What would colonization actually look like? How would a single successful experiment become a legitimate wide-scale medical procedure, and who would undergo such a transformation?

Perhaps its primary problem is its budget. Shot in a gorgeous house that frankly steals the movie, it would seem the production only had funds for sets and salaries. Then again, the problems here are abundant. The special effects leave a lot to be desired, the script teeters violently between cerebral and campy, and half-baked ideas and sizable plot holes make navigating the movie at once treacherous and tedious. It doesn't help that Taylor Schilling is so desperately trying to make up for the lack of acting from her starring counterpart. Director Lennart Ruff doesn't know whose story he wants to tell or how to tell it. Its first two-thirds are a moody, broody character study with a lot of sci-fi freakshow buildup; its final stretch is body-horror-meets-romance with some gimmicky thriller elements, and none of it feels like it belongs to the same film.

I was left with a sometimes pretty, sometimes ugly movie with sometimes smart, sometimes silly ideas and a so-so attitude. If James Cameron or Ridley Scott or J.J. Abrams had been involved, I could imagine any of them attempting to rework it into an early prequel of some of their respective projects. That's why I think The Titan is fanfiction: It hadn't the budget nor the vision nor the copyright allowance to become greater than it is. That's not good for a movie about evolution.

Save your time for Annihilation. It's just better.

IMDb: The Titan

Denial (2016)

Score: 4 / 5

An arresting reminder that history is far more fluid that we might prefer, Denial stands out not as a great film of the year but an uncomfortably timely one.

When a famed scholar who denies the Holocaust happened sues a Holocaust studies professor for libel, a colossal chess game is set. Or it would be, if Denial was a better film. What we get is an extended anecdote, a typical courtroom drama that features few surprises though it does remind us of an important real-life event that happened only two decades ago. The film, with its basic narrative cadence and the simple melodies it plays on your heartstrings isn't symphonic as, we might argue, it should be. But it is a simple reminder that some films are sound and sweet and smart and just plain solid, and that's okay.

What matters here -- besides the shockingly urgent implications of its revelation that history's facts are always up for debate and revision, which hit you only after the film is long over -- is Rachel Weisz. Reminding us once again (after her delicious presence in The Mummy) that knowledge can be power when married to passion, she reprises her role as librarian/scholar and transforms it into an heroic warrior, a pillar of virtue whose humanity only makes her stronger and fiercer. This is surely one of her great roles, and one that slowly reveals itself to be far more complex than we might suppose. Forced into silence by her legal team and hindered from the victory she deserves by publicity and legalities, her character keeps pushing for vindication until she achieves it. It's a relentless character, and Weisz crafts a powerhouse performance that still manages more nuances than you could bang a gavel at.

David Hare's screenplay, though simple and straightforward, isn't ever "bad". It just doesn't allow distractions or excess to obscure its heart. As honest and blunt as its leading character, the film reminds us of the inherent beauty of the tried-and-true courtroom drama (my favorite genre, after horror) by forcing us to pay attention to the duelling dialogue. Our era of political correctness and its vicious opposition, of instant messaging and virtual reality and artificial intelligence, might signal the end of this kind of film, where we are stuck watching and listening to people talk. We are compelled to listen and not speak as people present opposing ideas, and like the judge, come to our own opinions of it. In this particular instance, we are made to witness our history being subverted and questioned, and we must determine the extent to which we believe what has come before and why. We must confront the reality that our history is written not by facts but by people whose biases dictate its content, and -- even worse -- consider our own role in perpetuating a particular history as it is happening.

IMDb: Denial

Snowden (2016)

Score: 3 / 5

Oliver Stone surprises us again. This time, though, I'm wondering if it wasn't the lesser kind of surprise.

The enigmatic character of Edward Snowden and his apparent crimes against the US government seem to be the perfect basis for a political/legal thriller and an engrossing bio-drama. And so they do, as Oliver Stone shows us in the ensemble-driven spectacle that is Snowden. The odd thing with this film, however, is that Stone himself seems to, for what might be the first time in his many directorial features, shrink away from the possibilities of his own film. Whereas his style almost always gives his films' substance a run for its money, here, the only thrilling thing to be seen is the story itself. The fact-based plot and the obviously painstakingly detailed production design are the only things that hold our attention.

Well, okay, maybe not the only things. The ensemble cast (including Melissa Leo, Zachary Quinto, Tom Wilkinson, and even Nicolas Cage) are all at the top of their respective games. Leave it to Stone to handle ensemble casts better than almost anyone. Joseph Gordon-Levitt proves once again his fabulous ability to change characters without a single crack in his performance. He is not quite chameleonic -- we never forget who it is we're really watching -- but his delivery is so pitch-perfect and impassioned that he sweeps us away with it. The movie is stolen, though, by Rhys Ifans as his primary instructor. I won't give anything away, but that man knows how to do his thing.

The movie works best when it's telling its story of governmental espionage and whistle-blowing; it will downright scare you, if you, like me, didn't really understand what the secrets were Snowden leaked. I don't know that the movie convinced me of Snowden's heroism, probably because those tropes were played so heavily-handed. But it's an amazing journey either way, and one that certainly made me pause the next time I wanted to Google search something. The movie tries a few times to become a character drama starring Snowden and his girlfriend (played by Shailene Woodley, unfortunately), and those scenes are woefully underwritten.

I have heard that the 2014 documentary Citizenfour is even more thrilling than Snowden, and I intend to find that out for myself. I wouldn't be surprised; Stone's film often feels dry and uninspired, finding its uncertain way between a not-so-thrilling thriller and cut-and-pasted biography. In short, it's not one of Stone's masterpieces, and if you're watching it for his craft, you will be disappointed as I was. If, on the other hand, you want to see the excellent cast doing what they do best, this is one picture you just can't miss.

IMDb: Snowden

Selma (2014)

Score: 5 / 5

One of the most direct, intelligent films I've seen on racial politics in twentieth-century America, Selma is also one of the best films of the year. It doesn't preach quite as much as last year's big winner 12 Years a Slave, and it isn't as overtly sentimental as most films with a message. Ava DuVernay directs with crystal clear compassion and understanding, paired with an aggressive sense of narrative rhythm. She demonstrates time and again her willingness to show all aspects of her story, which makes her collaboration with her lead actor that much more interesting.

Driven by a fierce and engrossing performance by the incredible David Oyelowo, the film follows Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., as he works in Selma, Alabama, to overcome racial inequality and bring voting rights to the desegregated South. But King, for all his eloquent fervor and passionate dreams, isn't depicted here as anything but profoundly human -- complete with uncertainty, self-doubt, and exhaustion. We see firsthand -- literally, as the camera often takes to the street riots with handheld urgency -- exactly how King worked in both private and public life. And we see that his dreams have yet to come true in our own culture.

DuVernay and her team (notably cinematographer Bradford Young) brilliantly pull no punches, but they also carefully set up the film to allow for the countless parallels of social injustice in our own twenty-first-century country. And I don't just say that because John Legend and Common's credits song "Glory" references Ferguson. They not-so-delicately pull back the curtains on white privilege and the system of white power enshrined in our political and social institutions. Perhaps the most concise scene in this respect is when Annie Lee Cooper (played by the amazing actor Oprah Winfrey -- there, I said it) attempts yet again to apply for voters' registration. Or perhaps it's when the governor (?) played by Tim Roth discusses the Selma marches with president Lyndon B. Johnson (Tom Wilkinson) and blatantly reveals his racist agenda but receives no explicit reprimand. Or maybe it's when white preacher James Reeb (Jeremy Strong) who joined the marches is brutally and fatally attacked by white supremacists who declare that "The only thing we hate more than a nigger is a white nigger." In all these scenes and more, the filmmakers' sense of urgency and honesty make this historical drama quite thrilling and its message all the more critical.

IMDb: Selma

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (2011)

Score: 4.5 / 5

John Madden (director of Shakespeare in Love (1998), Proof (2005), The Debt (2010), Mrs Brown (1997), and Ethan Frome (1993), if you didn't know) heads this delightful excursion into another world. A ragtag group of retirees find themselves in search of something they've been missing their whole lives: life. So they pack their bags for India and the promise of a luxurious hotel "for the elderly and beautiful." After arriving at their dilapidated destination, romance and comedy ensue in one of the most memorable adult fantasies in recent history.

A dream cast creates this ensemble picture, and their respective wits increasingly sharpen each other for the two-hour running time. Judi Dench, Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkinson, and Maggie Smith display their comic and dramatic selves in masterful performances that drive straight to the heart. Supporting these four are Penelope Wilton, Ronald Pickup, and Celia Imrie, who each display fabulous comedic timing and sassy characterizations. Dev Patel (whom I only remember from 2008's Slumdog Millionaire) expertly plays the optimistic, almost manic hotel manager.

Ensemble casts are beautiful when each member is given ample time to shine, though this is understandably difficult to accomplish. Madden succeeds in balancing his A-listers with his unknowns, and allowing each to perform at their relaxed and intelligent best. And though there is some criticism that the film employs racist and ageist stereotypes, I think that for every stereotype it hints at (never overt or condescending) it also depicts the realities of the cultures in question. India may be the exotic Other of the film, but so are the "invading" Westerners, in a way, who carry most of the film's social baggage with them. And the infectious joy flooding off the screen highlights diversity and community, rather than humorous riffs off cultural differences. Ultimately the film explores the psychology of older people attempting to reclaim their lives; the fact that they are in India is merely a symbolic manifestation of their place in an unfamiliar world. Madden obviously admires it for its unique beauty, and graciously shares that vision with us.

 With its script of hilarious one-liners and occasionally heightened dialogue, the film sparkles at every turn. It feels neither forced nor trivial in its expertly weaved pattern of drama and comedy. Though the romantic element is by no means original, Madden keeps a relaxed grip on its reins. He isn't interested in geriatric titillation, but rather in a notion that increased age should not equate to increased torpidity. These characters are yearning for something more; as such, they are both desperate and vulnerable. They are also relatively alone in a strange country with only each other to lean upon. Despite these extreme internal forces, each character bravely reaches out in order to make some sense of their new lives. And the actors capture every nuance of that complex identity.

IMDb: The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel