We Need to Talk About Kevin

Wow. Just - wow.

I'm not sure why I chose this movie from Redbox this weekend; I could hardly see the screen in the blistering sun and was making my selections as quickly as I could so that I could dive back into my air conditioned car asap, and somehow this came home with me. 

I'm so, so, so glad that it did.  We Need to Talk About Kevin, directed by Lynn Ramsey - a largely off the radar Scottish artist whose past work as a cinemetographer plays to the film's advantage - and adapted from the book by Lionel Shriver is a small budget gem that is emotionally draining, visually striking, and lyrically written.  There is a dance, a sort of rhythm to Tilda Swinton's use of sound and silence in her portrayal of Eva that was unexpected and enticing.  I think we all know that Tilda's ace card has always been those pensive multipurpose gazes into the camera, second only to the perfect use of even the most subtle change to her facial expression.  Tilda and Bill Nighy are, in my opinion, the best in their trade at the classic cheek clench.


Images courtesy of coolspotters.com and wordpress.com

So what's the film about anyway? The first answer I think of is what ISN'T it about?  The imdb blib will share that Eva is a mother with an unthinkable problem - she can't seem to stand her son Kevin, despite all her efforts.  As despicable and impossible as that might seem, empathy isn't hard to offer Eva through the majority of the movie.  Her son is a brat, constantly put in contrast with her darling of a daughter, and her husband thinks she's crazy and unfeeling.  You want to wash Kevin's mouth out with soap, and there are a few moments when your mind wanders to a more corporal course of action.  Yes, even ye time-outters and go-to-your-roomers will understand the difficulty Eva experiences - the lengths to which she is stretched.

What I enjoyed so much about this movie is that I can relate with Tilda's portrayal of Eva so completely, despite my not having children.  In fact, this movie brings to light a lot of my wariness around being a mother some day.  No, I don't fear the mean streak my unborn child is bound to have.  Rather, I recognize my own selfishness.  Eva wants to see the world - met the love of her life doing just that.  Eva wants her own identity, outside of her children and husband, she wants to make a mark and be recognized for her own abilities.  I imagine Eva constantly rehearsing for a show she'll never perform. 

“Yet if there's no reason to live without a child, how could there be with one? To answer one life with a successive life is simply to transfer the onus of purpose to the next generation; the displacements amounts to a cowardly and potentially infinite delay. Your children's answer, presumably, will be to procreate as well, and in doing so to distract themselves, to foist their own aimlessness onto their offspring.”
― Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin

I also cannot believe the intracy and complicated nature of Eva and Kevin's relationship.  I'm not sure how Ramsey does it, but you understand implicitly that Kevin is his mother, that every step he takes is designed to draw a reaction of some sort out of her.  It's like he came out of the womb destined to push every one of her buttons, and even his most evil actions are wrapped up with a look over his shoulder to make sure his mother was watching. 

Can you tell I'm talking around the plot line?  It's just too good to spoil.  Ramsey pulls out a wonderful balance between present and past, happiness and horror, irony and insanity.  I wasn't sure what the most prominent message of the film was meant to be.  Do we all have the capability to hate absolutely anyone on this earth - even our own children?  Is a mother's love actually that resilient?  Is the story about how our actions influene those impressionable minds that surround us, or can a child feel his mother's disinterest and dislike while still in the womb?

I don't know how I felt after the movie.  I was sorry for Kevin, sorry for Eva, sorry for everyone they encountered, sorry for the fragility of our own nature.  But I don't yet know what piece of the pie matters the most to me, why I feel it's so very important that you watch this movie now. 

“Kevin was a shell game in which all three cups were empty.”
― Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin

I asked myself throughout the movie who exactly "we" is supposed to be in the title - I've decided now it's the audience. We need to talk about Kevin.  So watch it so we can!

The Lucky One

Source: Fuscia.cl

A few weeks ago Amanda and I decided to go to the movies.  We originally leaned toward Titanic 3D, but I was tired and I know myself well enough; if I don't know the plot, I'll stay awake. I was sure I'd fall asleep right around when Jack wins the poker game and wake up when he loses at life.  Plus we were meeting in Kokomo and  didn't want to get out at 1am or something crazy - Titanic is a LONG movie!

So we went for The Lucky One instead.  I wanted to see it, because I'm a sap and will watch anything poignant and romantic - but I'd thought it'd be one of those I waited to see on Netflix.  I'm not sure why Amanda went along for the ride - she isn't usually one for syrup-infused cinema - maybe it was the Nicholas Sparks thing.  Anyway we went.

As we walked up to the theater, there was a Twilight-like line.  I was shocked and confused; surely The Hunger Games buzz had died down by  now! I used my veteran skills and got us past the line and to the self serve kiosk, only to find when the guy took our tickets that the crowd was all for The Lucky One! 

Holy Zac Efron Cult Crowd!  I mean yes, the man has blue eyes and a perpetual 5'0 clock shadow.   I honestly think he'll look even better when he finishes growing into his features - I'm sure my 40+ self will drool over the 34 year old version - but this was insane.  Was High School Musical really that popular?

I have to pause here while on the topic of Zac.  What in the world was Director Scott Hicks thinking casting Zac in this role?  I suppose the line at the box office answers that question, but the age gap between he and Taylor Schilling was frankly disturbing.  I felt like he could be her much younger brother or she could have been his very young mother.  I was shocked when I found they only had a 3 year age gap between them in real life; you watch the movie and see if you agree. 

I'm attributing this perceived age gap to several factors. 1) Zac has been cast young for most of his career, and his features have changed little.  I would have put him at 20 or 21 instead of 24 or 25 (not sure his birth month in 1987).  These are only a few years to quibble over, unless you're putting him across an actress who looks to be in her mid 30's.    2) Taylor Schilling has had a very limited film career, and I attribute her age to her role in this movie.  Though she's her grandmother in the script, 69 year old Blythe Danner plays her mother figure and 38 year old Jay Ferguson plays her anger-saturated ex husband.

Age is just a number Heidi. What kind of movie review spends multiple paragraphs talking about age casting? This is why: try watching a steamy shower sex scene between people you think are 12 years apart. It isn't good for the stomach or the eyes.  I felt protective of Zac, especially since he played the attraction from a stoic characterization on his part - a lot of pensive looks and firmly set jawlines.  I couldn't tell if he was bracing for impact or resisting her allure.

Here's what I did enjoy; the entire feel of the town in Louisiana Beth hales from.  I want to live in a town like that, I want to believe in the value of a small community and an old house and a piece of land that's got a history and meaning to my family.  Ideally anyway.  I think Hicks appeals to that American pride that seems inherent in us when he shows Zac greasing up the old tractor and hauling storm debris across the southern landscape.  I also love the twists and romantic angst that Sparks is known for; and I think he does so well with that by playing into the themes of destiny and faith and fate. 

In my opinion, the movie was great.  Amanda was lukewarm about it, and I got her viewpoint completely.  It all seemed impossibly perfect, and the director failed to pull enough out of the actors to give it the ring of authenticity it needed.  I never saw Beth's face truly distrust Logan.  Logan never seemed to really love Beth.  The sexier moments seemed awkward and forced, and all these little things added up to more of a Lifetime movie feel than a Blockbuster moment.

Oh, and there's also an end scene eye-roller that I felt was completely unneeded.  I won't go into details because the rest of the storyline is pretty much told in the previews, but it made me groan with its unnecessary nature. Watch and tell me if you agree!

Again with the half thumbs up for me.  Not even the right hand - you get a lefty thumb Zac!  Please grow up a little more before you grab someone's butt and push her into a wall on a big screen.  I feel like sending you to your room.

Yes, I really did watch Leap Year on a Leap Year.

Source: celebritywonder.ugo.com

I'm thumbing through the DVR tonight, and I see my choices are Invictus and Leap Year. Invictus is an eventuality for me - I knew it from the first preview - but not a step I wanted to take tonight.

When I watch movies about causes I always get convicted and conflicted and twisty inside. I can't do that with work in the morning.

I was excited by the description provided: "In this whimsical romantic comedy, a young woman decides to strong-arm her Irish boyfriend into marriage by flying to his home country and proposing to him on leap day when tradition forces him to accept."

Romance? Comedy? Ireland? Amy Adams?? Cha-ching.

I will say that when I start a movie from this genre, I start by lowering my expectations a notch or two. I don't think romcom is about art, or profound impact, or even quotable screenplay. It's about finding hope in a cynical world, about forgetting cares and mental heavy lifting for a few hours. About the ultimate idyllic connection we aspire to find in someone else on this planet. And while some might suggest that this unrealistic standard can reflect poorly on the real relationships we have, I think it's important to see a higher standard every once in a while. It helps find the great in our ordinary.

The plot of Leap Year has a healthy weight to it. Yes, we've heard the opening theme of unrequited love or at least a relational imbalance time and time again. But Amy Adams and Adam Scott do a great job of muddying the waters a bit. Their slightly sterile connection is actually kind of cute - like the director wants to shine a hopeful light on the ability for anyone, no matter their neurosis or compulsion, to find a good connection. Amy & Adam are stiff, precise, career-obsessed, and materialistic. And they love each other for it. When Adam misses the mark and doesn't propose to Amy, she decides to take matters into her own hands -- though I'm not sure why John Lithgow was determined to be necessary to the film to share 3 minutes about the Leap Year tradition in Ireland in which women propose to men. The part was simply beneth him, and I hope he had some sort of personal interest in the film that warranted such an ill-placed cameo. So yes, I know it isn't realistic for most of us to be able to afford an impromptu flight to Ireland to propose to our stubborn boyfriends, but it was believable for Amy's character. That's all I needed.

I also like the ripe tension between Amy and Matthew Goode. Their banter and blunt way of interacting with one another is so fun to watch - to imagine ourselves engaging in - that I found myself giggling like a school girl. I think I was okay attributing some of the pushiness in Matthew's punchlines to his shallow acting career, though there were a few moments when I felt like saying "Yes Matt dear, I get the play on words. Very punny." Writers always have to overcome the gap in reality a script presents when the leading lad and lassie have to fall in love in a few days or a week or something. Noone. Well at least noone I know would drop their job, home, fiance, and nation for the love of a man whose middle name they did not know. Whose underwear drawer and medicine cabinet has not yet been raided. Whose mother they haven't met. At the same time, we picky audience members don't want to see all that stuff. We just want to believe that the steps have been taken appropriately.

AHH, but the witty writers push Amy and Matthew into a situation that requires they burst through the normal social process - even forcing the couple to feign marriage and publicly kiss one another senseless. I can believe that Amy felt something when pushed into an intimate situation she would not have logically been in, and subsequently having to process the new emotions. Again, that's all I need!

About that kiss.

One facet of romcom I can't look past is an unauthentic connection between the leading couple. What is the point in a staged kiss, in a long stare that has no passion behind it? This bastardizes the concept of love, of the poignancy of an intense moment in the script. It's like finding a typo in a romance novel. It pops the bubble. Actors can get away with a flat kiss in an action movie, but not in a romantic comedy. The kiss - the connection - is really all the movie's about. And that's the most dissapointing part of Leap Year, in my opinion.

Amy just isn't into Matthew. Yes, she reaches out to him when they kiss, but it's very staged and she barely rests the full weight of her hand on his neck. I pushed through it the first time, but then that horrible end scene came along.

Ugh. I just don't know HOW to feel about that scene. I mean they're in Ireland, so I guess they deserve the sillouhette shot, but why all the recycling of script at the end? It's like the director thumbed through the screenplay and started finding all the "good lines" to squeeze into the last five minutes.

For Matthew to tie "Louis" to the top of his beat up car and jest that a "throw in the wash" will fix him up is just plain wrong.

I was going to give Leap Year two thumbs up from the romantic grading system - definitely not the regular weight...more like two pinkies up - until I saw the end of the film. I have seen cliffs used in film to evoke huge emotion, to ponder our insignificance, to bring us to the very edge of our reality. Instead of aspiring to such heights, Leap Year gave into its weaknesses and used this beautiful scene to poke some jokes and force the audience to watch two people with no connection kiss each other for a million dollar bet. It was utterly painful to watch, and a game changer for me.

Pride and Prejudice wins cliff usage points.

Thelma and Louise win cliff-jumping-off points.

Bella gets cliff usage points, like woah.


Even though there is no cliff at all, Scarlett gets cliff usage points for this poignant cliff-standing-ish-pivotal-moment at the end of Act 1 in Gone with the Wind.

What does Leap Year give me? Matthew getting on one knee and saying "It's kind of soggy down here, so what'll it be?"

Oy.

A mini teeny weeny romcom one thumb up for me. Go ahead and watch it - Amy Adams nose will make up for most of it! (Isn't she just the cutest bunny in girl's clothing you've ever seen?)

Broadcast News

I waited until the very end of my Holiday Break to dig into the 1980's collection on HBO OnDemand. I enjoy film from the late 1980's and early 1990's, but I have to be in the mood. Think a full day off, or a bright sunny Saturday, or a Holiday break. I think it has to do with the endurance it takes to get past the shoulder pads and feathered hair and focus on what went well - what is taken for granted or lacking in modern film that makes looking twenty years back worth it all.

I mean, look at this hair.

This scene brings up two facets of older film I actually enjoy. First, we get the rare opportunity to use older film to see a ton of amazing actors all on the screen at the same time. I feel like I've come from the future and can see which of the cast will and won't make the cut. I spend a lot of these films trying to decide who I would have been impressed with then. After watching this gem, I think I would have walked out thinking Joan Cusack was a glorified lisp with a bad Julia Roberts wig, and that Holly Hunter was going places. Same thing with Albert Brooks and William Hurt - totally would have gotten that wrong.

Does he look like someone who could create an alternate town in a secluded forest and convince his peers to convert to a protected provincial lifestyle?

No. That's why the makers of The Village didn't cast Tom Brokaw for the role.

Anyway the SECOND reason I like these films is that subtle acting is emphasized and appreciated. Scripts are actually eloquent, physical comedy and scene composition are relied on over special effects and action shots, and everyone looks so young and promising. This is why the Burbs, Honey I Shrunk the Kids, and the like continue to appeal year after year.

But I had never heard of Broadcast News before HBO threw it in my DVR. I was 4 years old when it hit the silver screen, and was a hit with seven Golden Globe nominations (unfortunately no wins in 1987). It isn't hard to see why, when we look at what else was in contention that year: Good Morning Vietnam, Wall Street, Fatal Attraction, and Moonstruck -- Oh My! I don't know that Holly Hunter thought for one minute should could pull Best Actress out of Cher's glorious hands. Still, it blows my mind that the film isn't as well known as the others I've mentioned, especially with such a stellar cast:

(You know these faces)


There's even a small uncredited bit part for Phillip Seymour Hoffman as a film editor. He looks positively prepubescent!

I have to assume it was the limp attempt at romance and the over emphasis on the cause at hand: the waning authenticity of broadcast news in today's media. While a valid topic, there's little energy to be found in its depths, no buzz to keep the audience on the edge. And so its witty one liners (most of which were delivered expertly by the often overlooked Albert Brooks) gather dust on the shelves of retro cinema utnil HBO fills a 2a-4a spot on a Sunday night.

I could offer a synopsis here, but there's so little actual matter to the plot that summarizing would obliterate any need to see the film. Unless of course you like to look at bad hair - I mean really bad hair - or maybe make a game out of counting how many VHS tapes an actor holds in his/her hand during the movie.

I still don't know who Jane ends up with. There's this lukewarm love triangle between Jane and Aaron and Jane and Tom. You think Jane's all about Tom until she decides not to get on a plane with him near the end of the film. Then the screen says "7 Years Later". Tom's engaged to someone else, he runs into Aaron who has a son, and they both meet Jane at the park. Here's the closing dialogue.

Tom, Aaron and the boy walking along. Tom plays with Cliff
as they move. The boy is delighted. Jane is in a park -- a
blanket spread out -- she is wearing shorts and a top -- she
has some wine and a small picnic -- a toy for Clifford.

She HEARS her name being called.

ON JANE

Shielding her eyes from the sun -- now making out Tom. As
they reach her.

JANE
(to herself)
Well, why not?
(as they arrive)
Hey, what is this? My life's
rushing in front of my eyes.

TOM
A picnic?

JANE
I thought for ol' Cliff here --
Look at you? You're more adorable
than your pictures. Look what I
got for you.

She hands him a toy.

AARON
What do you say, Cliff?

The boy kisses Jane's hand.

AARON
He excels at gratitude.

TOM
(to Jane)
Are you any closer to a decision?

JANE
I think so...They've been talking
to me about being Tom's Managing
Editor.

AARON
Really?

JANE
(to Tom)
I'm going to take it.

TOM
What a great surprise. I didn't
think we had a chance. I heard
you wanted to stay in Washington.

JANE
Well, there's a guy, but he says he'll
fly up a lot.

TOM
Well, we should talk. You going to
have time for dinner? I'd like
you to meet Lila.

JANE
I'm sorry because I was looking
forward to that, but I' m going
back in a few hours.

TOM
Okay...It's so good to see you.

She gives him a quick kiss. He shakes hands with Aaron.

TOM
(to Aaron)
It's nice to see you.

AARON
Congratulations on history's longest
winning streak.

TOM
If you ever get restless in Portland,
let me know.

AARON
Why?

Tom shuffles uncomfortably.

ON JANE

Smiling, appreciating Aaron's attitude toward a blandishment of the
powerful.

TOM
(to Jane as he leaves)
Bye...boss.

Tom walks away. He's a good twenty yards away when Aaron looks up
to see his son running after Tom.

AARON
(calling)
Hey! Cliff! Cliff!

Tom now notices the boy, leans down and pats him.

TOM
(to Clifford)
Go back to your daddy.

The boy starts back.

AARON
Come on, Cliff. Come on.

As Clifford runs back to his father, Aaron sits next to Jane.

AARON
(to Jane)
So who's the guy?

JANE
Well, we met about three months ago.
He works at the surgeon general office.
He loves boating. So, he's been
getting me into water skiing.

Aaron laughs at the very notion of Jane finding water sports a lure.
Jane deliberately moves past this moment.

JANE
I like it! So, doll, what about you
lately?

AARON
Well -- my wife got this new job...


FADE OUT.

You tell Me! They don't kiss, they sit on opposite sides of a bench. Cliff doesn't call her Mommy. These last 3 minutes of an otherwise mundane two hours are absolutely frustrating to me. It doesn't really matter, but I feel like something about the film SHOULD.

1 star out of 3, or 3 out of 10, or 10 out of 50 depending on your ranking system. One thumb and a shrug.