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Written by Matthew Toomey

Created: 15 January 2015

American Sniper tries to juggle too many balls and ends up dropping every one of them.  One third of the film wants to celebrate a brave, real-life American hero.  Trained as a Navy SEAL, Chris Kyle (Cooper) was a proficient marksman who went on four tours of duty during the recent Iraq War and was credited with 160 enemy kills (more than any other sniper).  He was so successful that a group of Iraqi insurgents placed a lucrative bounty on his head.

In the opening half hour, we see Kyle’s first kill in the deserted Iraqi town of Nasiriya.  Lying patiently atop a multi-story dwelling, he spots a mother and child holding a grenade.  Do they intend to hand it over as a gesture of goodwill?  Or are they planning a suicide bombing?  When the child starts moving towards a group of U.S. soldiers, Kyle takes him out with a single gunshot.

It turns out to be the correct decision as the film is very clear to point out that the kid was “evil like I’ve never seen before.”  Why does everything have to be so simplistic though?  I realise he helped save a lot of soldiers (we see him honoured repeatedly) but did Kyle ever kill someone he wasn’t sure about?  Did he take pleasure from killing people (like he did animals)?  It feels like we’re getting a sheltered, overly patriotic view of who this man was.

Another third of the film wants to be a Hollywood-style action thriller.  Several scenes involve Kyle hunting down a Syrian born sniper named Mustafa who was once an Olympic shooter.  This never happened though.  It’s a largely fictional subplot that has been created by screenwriter Jason Hall because all action films need a keynote “villain”.

There’s no chance that you’ll sympathise with Mustafa since we know nothing about his past or his motivations.  He’s just a bad guy with a big gun who doesn’t say a word throughout the whole movie.  Bradley Cooper has described the film as “character study” as opposed to a “political movie” but it is noticeably unbalanced given the lack of time spent exploring the mindset of the insurgents.  If you want me to celebrate Kyle as a hero, at least show me what he’s fighting for and who he’s up against.

The other third of the film is trying to be a relationship drama that explores the heavy emotional toll that often comes with military service.  Kyle found it difficult to return to a “normal life” after his lengthy tours.  Part of him was glad to be home with his family but another part wanted to be back in Iraq and doing what he loved.  There’s a powerful moment when his wife (Miller) puts him on the spot and says “even when you’re here, you’re not here.”

The troubled connection between Kyle and his wife is the script’s most interesting element.  We finally get to see him as a human as opposed to an action hero.  He suppresses his suffering and refuses to talk about his work.  She tries to get him to open up and seek professional help.  Sadly, this area isn’t given enough screen time and is used more as a quick interlude to break up the numerous wham-bam shooting sequences.

I won’t spoil American Sniper’s climax except to say that it is laughably bad.  After discussing various possibilities, director Clint Eastwood decided to wrap up Kyle’s story before a particularly significant event.  It’s just another example of the film going with simplicity over complexity.

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Written by Matthew Toomey

Created: 01 January 2015

How does an artist measure their success?  Is director James Cameron satisfied that he’s made the two highest grossing films of all time (Titanic and Avatar)?  Is actor Audra McDonald content with the 6 Tony Awards on her mantelpiece?  Is Katy Perry happy with the fact she has more than 60 million followers on Twitter?

These questions get to the essence of Birdman, the latest creation of acclaimed Mexican director Alejandro González Iñárritu (Babel, Amores Perros).  It centres on a middle aged actor named Riggan Thomson (Keaton) who is trying to reboot his sagging career.  Twenty years ago, he was the star of a hugely successful superhero franchise.  Nowadays, he’s a “nobody” struggling to find even the smallest of roles.

Determined to prove his worth as an actor, Riggan has taken the biggest gamble of his professional life.  He’s used the last of his savings to write, direct and star in a Broadway play.  He’s booked a theatre in Times Square, he’s assembled a cast of inexperienced actors, and he’s ready to show the world that he’s more than just a guy in an elastic bird suit.  When Iñárritu’s film begins, we’re just a few days away from opening night.

Cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki (Gravity, Tree Of Life) was reluctant about the project at first but is now on track to win back-to-back Academy Awards.  He has delivered on Iñárritu’s inspired vision to have the film look like it was shot in a single take.  No cuts, no edits.  I particularly loved the way in which the camera smoothly slips between events and timeframes.

All of this required a huge amount of preparation to make it look so natural, so effortless.  I’m talking about not just the actors but also the editors, the cameramen, the prop guys, the boom operators, the lighting teams and the special effects artists (who had lots to do).  It’s no wonder that most scenes took in excess of 20 takes.  Kudos also must go to composer Antonio Sánchez for his distinctive, drum-based score.

Michael Keaton is superb in the leading role and is currently the short priced favourite to take home the Oscar for best actor.  Some may see parallels with Keaton’s own life given he starred in two Batman movies (released in 1989 and 1992) before disappearing off Hollywood’s radar.   That’s not the case though.  Keaton states in the film’s production notes that he’s “never related less to a character.”  He’s proud of his career and never really had any trouble stepping out from behind Batman’s shadow.

Keaton isn’t the only standout.  Edward Norton (Fight Club) plays Mike Shiner – a troublesome method actor who becomes a late addition to the play (as Fassbender, Harrelson and Renner were all unavailable).  Emma Stone (Easy A) features as Riggan’s daughter – a recovering drug addict looking to connect with her distant father.  Zach Galifianakis (The Hangover) is the biggest surprise as Riggan’s level-headed lawyer.  It seems everyone wants to derail the production but his character is working hard to keep it on track.

It may sound like a drama but Birdman is largely framed as a dark comedy.  You’re unlikely to feel too much sympathy towards these self-absorbed characters and so Iñárritu’s approach is to simply have fun with the scenario.  He skilfully blends reality and fantasy to help us get inside Riggan’s head.  He also throws in a plethora of insults.  When a clueless actor is struck by a falling light, Riggan’s first response is to say “the blood coming out of his ear is the most honest thing he’s done so far.”

What does it all add up to though?  That’s the part I’m still grappling with.  In addition to the theme of “art”, Birdman wants to say something about Hollywood blockbusters, what it takes to be an actor, the value of social media, and whether it’s better to be lucky than good.  Maybe it’s up to us to connect the dots but I was hoping for more resolution than what was offered by the ambiguous finale (which only works if you believe it’s a comedy).

Swamped with praise since its premiere at the Venice Film Festival back in August, I’m confident the film meets Iñárritu’s own definition of success.

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Written by Matthew Toomey

Created: 11 January 2015

It’s surprising that we don’t make more family orientated films in Australia.  We’ve certainly proven that they can be successful.  Babe, Happy Feet and Red Dog all made more than $20 million at the local box office (ranking them in the top 10 of all time).  Instead, our focus has been more on dramas, comedies and documentaries.  When it comes to family product, we’re happy to rely on the big budget stuff coming out of the United States.

Australian director Robert Connolly is trying to reverse that trend.  Having already made some terrific adult dramas (The Bank, Balibo and The Turning), Connolly wanted to make something for younger audiences.  His motivation wasn’t financial though.  He’d simply grown tired of taking his own kids to the movies every school holidays and seeing nothing but Americans on screen.  He’d rather they had the chance to see a film shot in this country where Aussie kids are the heroes.

The premise should be easy for children to follow.  Dylan (Oxenbould) is an 11-year-old who lives with his father (Worthington) is a remote part of Western Australia.  Motivated by a competition at his own school, Dylan has a crack at the Australian Paper Plane Championships.  His training runs are dismal but with the help of his teacher and a new best friend, it’s not long before he’s off to Sydney and ready to compete against the nation’s best.

It’s a super-cheesy film that doesn’t always make a lot of sense… but its heart is in the right place.  There’s an important subplot involving another kid (Bakopoulos-Cooke) who has also entered the competition with just one goal in mind – to win.  His dad (Wenham), a former top professional golfer who has been through his share of ups and downs, is trying to tell him otherwise.  What’s the point of being victorious if no one likes you?

Those who saw last month’s Alexander And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day will already be familiar with this film’s star, Ed Oxenbould.  He comes from an acting family (his uncle played Ben in the 1990s television series Hey Dad) and is loaded with talent.  He delivers his dialogue so genuinely and it’s also nice to see him using his native Aussie accent this time around.

Connolly and co-writer Steve Worland (Bootmen) have tried to pack a touch too much into the 90 minute running time.  Not all the storylines get the attention they deserve and it’s a rush to wrap them all up in the later stages.  Still, this is a satisfying Aussie family flick that I hope audiences make time for over the holidays.  

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Written by Matthew Toomey

Created: 01 January 2015

With music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim (West Side Story, Sweeney Todd), Into The Woods was a successful, much acclaimed musical that was first performed on Broadway in 1987.  Whilst it didn’t take home the Tony Award that year for best new musical (that honour went to Phantom Of The Opera), it’s a show that has proven its greatness over time.  It’s been performed across the globe and has gone through numerous revivals.

I haven’t seen the live musical myself but on paper, it sounds fantastic!  It takes the heroes from several Brothers Grimm fairy tales and brings them together as part of a new adventure.  A baker (Corden) and his wife (Blunt) have been cursed by a witch (Streep) and are unable to have children.  The curse will only be broken if the couple obtain four ingredients that are required by the witch for an important potion.

Firstly, they need a cow as white as milk.  This can be obtained from Jack in exchange for some dodgy magic beans.  Secondly, they need a cape as red as blood.  Little Red Riding Hood is the perfect candidate but she won’t be handing it over without a fight.  Thirdly, they need hair as yellow as corn.  Rapunzel has plenty to spare but it won’t be easy locating her tower.  Finally, they need a slipper as pure as gold.  This is where Cinderella comes into the frame.

There’s a moment in almost every fairy tale where the bad people are punished and the good people “live happily ever after”.  The catch with Into The Woods is that this moment presents itself in the middle of the story as opposed to end.  The show’s second act flips the whole narrative on its head and looks at things from a different, more realistic perspective.  It illustrates life’s many contradictions and the trouble in differentiating “good” from “bad”.  Further, it shows that not all of these characters deserve to live happily ever after.

Director Rob Marshall is no stranger to a big screen movie musical.  His first feature film, Chicago, won 6 Academy Awards including best picture in 2003.  Marshall was heavily favoured to win best director that year but lost to Roman Polanski (The Pianist) in a major upset.   His next musical outing was anything but successful.  Nine, released back in 2009, was savaged by critics and tanked at the box-office.

There are a lot of good reasons to see Marshall’s cinematic adaptation of Into The Woods.  The film opens with a brilliant 15-minute musical number that introduces us to all the major characters.  Having had to endure the horrendous Annie several weeks ago, this opening reminded me of how wonderful musicals can be.  The casting is great, the voices are clear, and the plot is easy to follow.  The creativity shown with the overlapping lyrics and storylines also put a smile on my face.  It’s a lot of fun.

It’s a well written musical but the character who gets the best lines and the most laughs is the baker’s wife.  It’s a role that won Joanna Gleeson a Tony Award in 1988 and Imelda Staunton an Olivier Award (the London equivalent) in 1991.  Emily Blunt (The Devil Wears Prada) steps into the character’s shoes here and is wonderfully good.  So too is Chris Pine (Star Trek) who appears in the film’s best song – a duet where two princes agonise about the women in their life who are “just out of reach”.

As much as I loved the lead up, the film struggles to sell the messages contained in its meaningful conclusion.  I’m worried that audiences will be divided about the sudden change in tone (which should have been darker to make it more obvious) and the rush to resolve so many subplots (characters are dying at a rapid pace).

The theatrical version was able to use certain techniques to assist its cause.  For example, the actor who played the villainous wolf also played Cinderella’s charming prince.  It was a way of showing that while their characters may seem very different, their personalities are actually quite similar.  I’m not saying that Marshall should have used the same actor for the two roles in the film (it would have been tricky) but it highlights that important details have been lost in the translation from stage to screen.

Named as one of the year’s top 10 films by the American Film Institute, Into The Woods is ultimately a film that entertains but also underachieves.

Details

Written by Matthew Toomey

Created: 11 January 2015

Born of Italian parents in 1917, Louis Zamperini found life difficult growing up in the United States.  Bullied at school and struggling to make friends, Louis natural instinct was to rebel.  He drank, he smoked, and he generally got up to mischief.  There’s a flashback scene early in Unbroken where a police officer tells him straight up – “everyone in this town wants you put away.”

You’ll be left with a wry smile when you see how quickly things changed.  Following the advice of his older brother, Louis took up running.  He wasn’t good.  He wasn’t great.  He was amazing.  That’s what you get when you combine hard work with natural talent.

At the age of 17, Louis would become the fastest high school runner (over a mile) in U.S. history.  Two years later, he was representing his country and competing at the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin. Suffice to say that Louis was no longer bullied.  The kid had become a much adored superstar.

Sadly, that would be the pinnacle of Louis’s career.  The 1940 Olympic Games in Tokyo were cancelled due to the outbreak of World War II and so he enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Forces not long after.  He reached the rank of second lieutenant and served as a bombardier aboard a B-24 Liberator.

Most war films feature epic gun fights or heroic rescues.  That isn’t the case here.  Unbroken is about something quite different – the power of human endurance.  Louis was aboard a plane that crashed in the Pacific Ocean in April 1943.  After spending weeks floating on a life raft, he was found by a Japanese navy ship and taken to a prisoner of war camp.  He was tortured and beaten by the Japanese soldiers – the most notable being a ruthless, violent prison guard nicknamed “The Bird” who targeted Louis because of his Olympic history.

There’s a moment early in the film where Louis’s brother gives him a piece of advice that he would carry with him throughout the ordeal – “if you can take it, you can make it.”  Louis didn’t fight back.  He didn’t ask for help from his fellow prisoners.  He didn’t devise a cunning escape plan.  He didn’t try to kill himself.  Louis’s strategy was simple – to fight the fight inside.  He kept quiet, took the beatings, and prayed that the U.S. would one day with the war.

This is a very impressive feature from actor-turned-director Angelina Jolie.  While she’s a relative newbie in terms of direction (she’s only made one feature film previously), she’s backed by a ridiculously talented crew that includes cinematographer Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption), composer Alexandre Desplat (The King’s Speech), and editors William Goldberg (Argo) and Tim Squyers (Life Of Pi).  The screenwriting team, that includes 4-time Academy Award winners Ethan and Joel Coen (No Country For Old Men), also deserve praise for the breadth of material covered in the two-hour running time.  It never at any stage feels rushed.

I wasn’t familiar with British actor Jack O’Connell (This Is England, 300: Rise Of An Empire) prior to the film but I’m his latest fan thanks to his stellar performance as Louis.  He looks like a defeated wreck throughout much of the film’s second half (kudos to the make-up artists) but you can see from his eyes and his body language that he will, as the film’s title suggests, remain “unbroken”.  It’s tough to watch but also hugely inspiring. 

In a big coup for the Australian film industry, most of Unbroken was shot in Queensland and New South Wales.  It hasn’t quite generated the Oscar buzz that many were anticipating but it’s performed very well at the U.S. box-office (it’s already made more than $100m) and that’s great to see.

You can read by chat with star Miyavi by clicking here.