Bile Bile WestGod love them for trying. No matter how many times people cry out that westerns are dead, there's always a group of people ready to make a movie that tries to prove them wrong. And it seems to be that this new decade is a grand force of ushering in a revival for the genre. Last year, we had two: James Mangold's remake of 3:10 to Yuma and the Brad Pitt-Casey Affleck starer The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, one of my absolute favorites from the year before. Now, Ed Harris has thrown his hat into the ring for this film, not only as actor but director and co-writer as well, which is a pleasantly enjoyable, but occasionally murky piece of work.
Like many westerns that were produced, this one follows the shoot 'em up formula that also inspires the "buddy" tale. Harris plays Virgil Cole, a hired gun that travels around cities looking to install justice along with his friend and partner Everett, played by Viggo Mortensen. The two gentleman are brought to the particular town of Appaloosa to enforce the law among a group of bandits and criminals, head by the notorious Randall Bragg (Jeremy Irons). If trying to keep these bad men in line wasn't enough, they also have to try to pin a multiple murder on Bragg, and a new lady has moved into town (Reneé Zellweger) and is vying for the affection of both Virgil and Everett, all before the action really starts to heat up.
Harris is certainly not an amateur director. Even though it's been eight years since he last stepped behind the camera for Pollock, his light touches of direction fill the gigantic canvass of the film. He is a man who has a lot of respect for this genre, and his style and plot structure within the script, which he co-wrote with first time writer Robert Knott, tries to convey a simple and elegant tale that was present in those old westerns. The problem is that the film is so much like those old westerns that it's difficult to say if this film is like one of them or is simply imitating them. I felt Mangold did that last year, and I fear Harris has done it as well. The entire movie feels like a John Ford western that has updated for today, even though Harris's direction is probably more maneuvered that Ford would have done. One could argue that's not a bad thing, but I find it pure imitation without anything behind it. There are bonus technical points for the beautiful scenery by Dean Semler, but its quickly taken away by the modern, and occasionally distracting, score provided by Jeff Beal.
As an actor, Harris definitely tries for a John Wayne type, and his character comes off like that. He's heroic and strong, but is occasionally naive about women around him and the intellectuals of the world. Mortensen's character is obviously supposed to foil Cole, but this is a role that Mortensen, or anyone for that matter, could probably play blindfolded. Jeremy Irons is very effective as the villain, as he always is, but something tells me it will be difficult to explain his retained English accent. There's also some very good character actor work from James Gammon, Timothy Spall, Gabriel Marantz, and Lance Henrickson in the background of the story. However, I wish that Zellweger wasn't continually the weakest part of every film. I don't think she's a horrendous actress, but I always get the the feeling that these two men should not be fighting over her affection. Then again, the film only shows roughly four women in the whole town, so variety may not be a luxury of theirs.
The film I thought was the second best last year was a western. But I loved it because it was unconventional. It was a western that took a different approach in its story, using a familiar set up but instead forcing the audience to take a long, drawn out, and superbly crafted character study. Appaloosa fails to go beyond its boundaries, and ends up becoming a reincarnation of the films from the old days. Still, Harris and company do fine work, and its easy to lose yourself in the majesty of the canvass. However, if you feel like a void is missing after watching it, I would recommend The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, and let me know if imitation is truly the highest form of flattery. **1/2 / ****; GRADE: B-
Blind FuryWhen this film had the distinguished privilege of being selected as the opening film at the Cannes Film festival, that was already a greatly bestowed honor. After the film was shown, there were whispers going around that there were some big problems in it. So then, the studio pressured the director to do what any other studio would pressure a director to do when there's a potential for the test audiences to respond negatively: they ordered a re-cut. To the best of my knowledge, the new version that now shows in the theatres today is a slightly improved version from the one that premiered earlier this year. Be that as it may, Blindness is still an insanely jumbled thriller held together by an overbearing message and convenient plot device.
All of the characters in the film are not named, so when a man in a car (Yusuke Iseya) starts seeing the world in a pale white tone, it seems to be completely surprising, as well as when his car gets stolen eventually by the Thief (Don McKellar, who also wrote the screenplay). Soon, it is discovered that this blindness has turned into an epidemic spreading through the films unnamed country. Even the local eye doctor (Mark Ruffalo) contracts the disease, but his wife (Julianne Moore) seems to remain immune. Fearing a spread of infection, the government quarantines the newly blind in several wards that then start to feud with each other, with the King of Ward Three (Gael García Bernal) taking charge and wrecking havoc before hell really breaks loose.
Director Fernando Meirelles is a truly gifted filmmaker, and I still consider his breakout his to American audiences, City of God, to be a true masterpiece in any age. There were times when I was deeply impressed with his direction here as he tries to put forth an allegory that is shrouded by shadows and fuzzy images. Sometimes, though, Meirelles is very maneuvered with those allegories, and the message of self-destructing human nature is weakened by its overbearing presence. Still, at least Meirelles knows how to still use his Oscar-nominated cinematographer and editor. César Charlone drenches each scene is a beautiful milky white that truly enhances the loss of sense within the film, and Daniel Rezende's tight and clever editing is something to behold, even when the musical score is at times just as preachy as the messages.
I don't think anyone can say that the film isn't well acted, but many could argue that the most talented aren't used to their full potential. I get the feeling that players like Moore and Ruffalo are holding back something in their scenes, particularly Moore. She's magnificently talented, but there's never any great momentum within her. Other well known actors, like Danny Glover and Sandra Oh, are given basically extended cameos in underdeveloped roles. However, I most disappointed in the limited time given to Bernal. He always knows how to be one of the best parts of a film (see: Babel), but often subjected to being one of the least used talents in those films (again, see: Babel). He always commands an amazing presence, especially when he is fighting against Moore's character. The two of them have more believable chemistry than anyone else in the film, despite their screen time together probably totaling only two minutes. It's a shame, because the feud between these two were of great caliber, and its a shame it was used so little.
Even at just reaching the two-hour mark, Blindness still manages to drag on, especially in its third act which broadens the film's scope just as the audience has already settled into the hellish conditions in the wards. At times the film is effective, but it mostly consists of a laborious message that is tangled within a heavy handed plot. Despite the best intentions of an underused cast, the film fails to become anything truly marvelous, and instead wanders in its own blind sense of self-righteousness. ** / ****; GRADE: C
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