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Ashkevron
I am a great lover of dramas, Fantasy, Sci Fi, Classics, and anything surreal.
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In Bruges (2008)
Seeing Right Through to the Script
While it has its charms--most notably Gleeson's Ken and his love of Medieval architecture--'in Bruges' mostly stumbles under the weight of trying too hard to appear witty and quirky. The dialogue, although delivered sincerely enough by Farrell, Gleeson, and especially Fiennes, seems forced, and I could not stop myself from realizing that I was listening to a script. Likewise, the screenwriter, McDonagh (who also directed), is under the delusion that dropping the f-bomb often will take care of things such as making the dialogue "hip" and "funny."
There are throw-away moments of true charm here, though: Harry (Fiennes)'s love of "fairytale" Bruges, the random Robert Powell comparison, a completely unbelievable yet somewhat refreshing "shoot-out" where a normally victimized female stock-character (a proprietress) refuses to budge from her place between the shooters, and, above and beyond all, the true sense of brotherly concern Ken (Gleeson) has for Ray (Farrell). But once it gets caught up in the unfunny "alcoves" and "racist dwarfs" and a female character desperate to be shocking yet merely sweet and pretty and, ultimately, useless, the picture sinks.
In time, McDonagh may write a better script, one that does not feel like a student's first attempt to impress his professor, and us.
Rasputin (1996)
The Power of Faith
The more interesting aspect of 'Rasputin' is not so much the history it portrays, but the ambiguity of it. Are we, as an audience, meant to feel sympathetic towards Rasputin? Towards the Romanovs? The movie gives no clear answers.
Rickman portrays Rasputin in a way that the question of whether he was a true holy man or merely a charlatan is never truly answered. On the one hand, we have Stolypin's opinion of Rasputin's "powers" as little more than hypnotism and suggestion, and on the other we have Alexeiwho could be considered an unreliable narratorwho admires and believes in Rasputin's "magic." Rickman, meanwhile, plays Rasputin as a man who believes strongly, who may just be convinced that he does have healing powersbut who may just be a poor, deluded fool.
McKellen, meanwhile, does a masterful job of portraying Nicholas II as neither cloyingly sympathetic not narrow-mindedly unsympathetic. His Nicholas II is not a likable man, but we can see his humanity and his faults, and how these things blind him to his mismanagement of the country. He is not a black and white portrayal, but grey.
In a way, 'Rasputin' (saddled with a most unfortunate subtitle) is more about religion than history or politics. Its main theme is its characters passionate adherence to their religion: Rasputin who wants to see and experience miracles and apparitions, Nicholas II and Alexei who believe God has made them unquestionable kings, and Alexandra who allows her faith to blind her to the dangers of placing too much power and confidence on the "holy man" who "cures" her son. It is this aspect of the movie that makes it interesting, and which gives it its power. It would have been easy to make yet another film in which either Rasputin or the Romanovs are made to look like either blameless saints or black hearted villains, but 'Rasputin' (for the most part) chooses to portray its characters as flawed, human creatures.
Rickman, perhaps, goes a tad bit overboard on the melodrama and histrionics (and I greatly disliked the strip of bright light over his eyes as some kind of dramatization of either madness or holiness), but he brings a real sense of despair and anguish to Rasputin's eventual downfall, of his apparent loss of faith as Alexandra, in turn, loses faith in him. McKellen's in the more understated role, and a great treat to watch. His role may not be as dramatic, but it is more subtly nuanced.
The Ruling Class (1972)
A Giddy, Surreal Treat
I found The Ruling Class to be nothing but a treat from beginning to end. The story of a deluded aristocrat, Jack, who believes himself to be Jesus Christ (all to the great consternation and puzzlement of his relatives), this film is an entertaining blend of dark comedy, drama, romance and even a musical. All of these diverse elements are held together by a quirky sense of the surreal: society ladies burst into song right smack in the middle of the parlour, a hunting party cavorts about the grounds singing about dry and disconnected bones, and lovers sing opera and dance across suddenly empty--but previously quite cluttered--rooms. This use of sporadic, vaudeville-type songs is a giddy, irreverent, and delightful show.
Ultimately, however, these montages take on an air of melancholy, adding poignancy to Jack's disturbing, almost pitiful transformation into the stuttering, obsessing Jack the Ripper during the second, darker half of the film. As the film draws to its close, one can't help but remember those scenes of frolicking merriment with a bit of sadness, recognizing that, in saving Jack from his harmless delusion, his family and doctor have cursed him to a life of loneliness and misery instead.
The Brothers Karamazov (1958)
Well Worth the Self-imposed Wait
I have never read The Brothers Karamazov. I have always been under the impression that the novel is too long, probably preachy, and most probably boring. Therefore, I put off seeing this film, even though most of my friends and family gushed about it whenever I watched anything with Yul Brynner on it (Anastasia, Ten Commandments). When I came to New York as a graduate student, though, it happened that my roommate was an even bigger Brynner fan than I, and I soon found myself in what amounted to a one week Brynner marathon. The Brothers Karamazov was the 2nd film we watched. And I loved it. It felt strange to think so back then, and it feels strange to write it now. But I loved it.
As a fan of both Classic films and literary classics (I haven't read Brothers Karamazov, but I have read several other classics, and thoroughly enjoyed them), I know that the first is almost always 180º apart from the latter. No one needs to tell me this film is probably only 20% of the original novel, and changed/re-arranged to boot. Doesn't matter. I still enjoyed it. I have never watched a film classic that so moved me, drew me in, and made me forget that the year was 1958. Brynner is at his most vulnerable here, and the actors portraying his brothers all did top-notch jobs (such a good job, in fact, that I was able to watch William Shatner -Captain Kirk to anyone remotely Trekkie- without even chuckling), as well as the leading ladies. Mr. Cobb deserved his Oscar. What a wonderful performance. The man must've had a blast playing Fyodor Karamazov; he cavorts about with energy and flair. The best scenes are whenever he is on screen with all four sons around him, although I liked this film so much that, at this point, "favourite scenes" would include 90% of the film.
Truly a wonderful work. Don't hesitate, as I did, to treat yourself to this cinematic jewel.
Plunkett & Macleane (1999)
On the Surface...
I must admit that although I never expected to fully dislike Plunkett & Macleane, I had my reservations. It's been my observation that supremely hyped, "music video" movies tend to be all surface and very little depth. Because the director of Plunkett & Macleane (Jake Scott) is the son of Ridley Scott, I expected even more surface than usual (the movie visually reminds me of a 1980 Ridley Scott film, Legend, in its cluttered, almost shimmering food and jewels). The movie didn't prove me wrong. Its surface is beautifully crafted and eye-catching (mud-caked coats, dust coated food, foppish lords and ladies, decadence around every corner), but there's very little depth.
To be fair to the movie, there -are- small, almost throw-away moments of characterization: Plunkett gazing at his map of America and later telling Macleane that he's never loved anyone, Macleane admiring his new, dashing figure as a highwayman in the mirror, Rochester's eyes closing as Macleane is sentenced to hang. But these small touches remain mostly superficial as well. They work because they are archetypes. The viewers expect Plunkett to have a painful past (no decent highwayman mentor would be without one) and Macleane to suddenly feel proud of being a highwayman (it's supposed to be a buddy/surrogate son movie, right?). Still, if you don't ask much from the movie, these small moments do work, in their simple formula.
I think it is to Robert Carlyle's and Ken Stott's credit that despite the lack of depth given to their characters (Plunkett and Mr. chance, respectively) they can still manage to pull a somewhat haunted past behind their character's eyes. Too bad the movie never devotes the time to bringing these (mostly) implied pasts to the forefront. As it is, Plunkett & Macleane is the promise of a much better movie that never unfolds.