Road to Perdition: TOMHANKSTOMHANKSTOMHANKS

Tom Hanks is a special kind of person. He is easily and immediately identifiable as Tom Hanks and nobody else. When you see Tom Hanks, no matter where he is or what he is doing, you know it is Tom Hanks. You cannot confuse him for anybody else. He's tall, he's squinty, he's got that Tom Hanks smirk that only Tom Hanks has, he's got that Tom Hanks voice that only Tom Hanks has. I've never smelled Tom Hanks, but I'm willing to bet he smells exactly like I would expect Tom Hanks to smell like.

There are a lot of actors like this. BOOM! That's Tom Cruise. BOOM! That's Bruce Willis. BOOM! That's Keven Costner. And BOOM! That's Tom Hanks.

But what sets Tom Hanks apart is his ability to convince his audience soon after a movie starts that they are no longer looking at Tom Hanks but at a particular character (even though clearly, CLEARLY, it is still Tom Hanks wearing a disguise).

Consider all those Tom Hanks movies you've seen. At the beginning, you're all, "Hey, that's Tom Hanks!" But by the end you're convinced you just saw a story about a Fed-Ex guy stuck on an island, or a gregarious historian with bad hair, or a kid who got turned into an adult by a mechanical fortune teller, or a gay Philadelphian dying of AIDS, or a ping-pong-playing chocolate-eating Southern dimwit. He convinces you of this despite the fact that he is and forever will be Tom Hanks, the most Tom Hanks Toms Hanks has ever Tom Hanksed.

As this Michael Sullivan guy, even though the character is blandishly written (an open canvas for anybody to inadvertently spill themselves all over), the Tom Hanks ebbs away and a conflicted mustachioed hitman appears. His performance is subtle and nuanced, even as he's shooting guns. A glance here, a well-timed pause there. He gives substance to a substanceless character.

On paper Michael Sullivan is drab, along with all the other characters, along with the story itself. There is just not much to it. It is just some stuff that happens. It is just some decisions people make without much thought. For a gangster movie this translates fairly unremarkably to film.

There are two exceptions here, plus some cinematographic excellence that keeps things interesting.

Exception 1) Tom Hanks, of course. He turns Michael Sullivan into something we care about (more so than the kid). It's not much, but it works.
Exception 2) Harlen Maguire, the hitman's hitman, portayed by Jude Law. On paper Maguire is supposed to be creepy and twisted and brilliant and terrifying. I'm inclined to believe that he was supposed to steal the show. But Jude Law turns him into something campy and silly and dumb and not-so-scary. I don't know if this is Jude Law's fault, but we get a caricature instead of a character.

So this film wouldn't be worth watching EXCEPT for this: it is shot perfectly. Seriously. You could watch Road to Perdition fifty times and every time you can pick out something you never noticed before.

The camera is somehow both subjective and objective, painting a picture of the things you need to see without blatantly telling you what it is you need to see. You pick up the details on your own time, maybe realizing what's happening before the characters do, maybe realizing as the characters do.

The cinematography is beautiful. The country goes on forever, as if heaven lay just beyond the fill-up station. Even the city looks good. Everything appears authentically Depression-era-esque without looking dumpy for dumpiness's sake.

And finally, hallway motifs!


Oh yes, there is one more good reason to watch Road to Perdition. Tom Hanks does that crazy yell he does when he's angry. You know the one. "DIDN'T YOU EVER SEE FATAL ATTRACTION?" Tom Hanks yelling is one of my favorite things in the world.

Road to Perdition, all told, is not a bad movie. It is by no means a great movie, but it's not bad. If you want to see a great movie in this same vein, watch Miller's Crossing. It's got John Turturro and Steve Buscemi and Sam Raimi is in there somewhere. No Tom Hanks, though.

I rate Road to Perdition 2.5 Tom Hankses... out of 5.

The New World: I Totally Didn't Nod Off (For Very Long)

I feel like I have to warn somebody before I show them a Terrence Malick film. The conversations go something like this:

"Okay, this movie is going to be pretty long. And if it isn't actually long, it's going to feel long. Not that this is going to be a bad movie, but Malick likes to fill his films with a whole lot of nothingness. You'll get a lot of quiet extended random shots of trees or grass or lawn gnomes or scampering natives or whatever have you. Not that this is bad either as it's all very beautifully shot. In fact, you could pause the movie at any time, take that image on your screen to Kinkos, and have them create a very serene poster for you. So I guess really it's the imagery that drives the film as none of the characters say much and often times there's not a whole lot going on. But it pays off at the end as you feel like these characters and events are very real, like you're actually physically there observing these events instead of watching on TV or at a theater. And you feel like you know these characters even though they spent the bulk of the movie hiding their feelings instead of emoting them. But you really have to invest yourself in Malick's movies, and you'll get bored, so you have to stick it out."

"Wait, which Clarence Gaylick movie are you talking about?"

"Terrence Malick, and... all of them."

"Yeah, can't we just watch a Fast & Furious movie instead?"

"NO."

It's hard to talk about Terrence Malick's films without sounding like a pretentious jackhole.

Incidentally, Malick films earn you a popcorn bucket full of film snobbery points, but only if you sit all the way through them. I just earned film snob butter by sitting through the extended version of The New World. Dozens more minutes of passing glances, wandering silhouettes, and static greenery!

Again, there's a lot of empty space. In art you can create an image by manipulating the non-image around it, and I suppose you can do the same in film. And like the way empty space forces you to reevaluate how you look at a picture, Malick's use of nothing in particular forces you to approach movie-watching differently. It becomes less about entertainment and more about the ebb and flow of life.

Putting it another way, The New World is like watching a fish tank. Fish tanks are pretty. The fish are pretty. The bubbles are pretty. And it all moves in slow motion. Nothing much happens, but you get to learn the habits of the fish, their routines, the way they interact. You see a couple fish fall in love. Aw, that's nice. They dart in and out of the plastic castles and fake seaweed. Then one day you wake up, check out your fish tank, and notice that all of the fish are fighting and there are fins and scales and bones strewn about everywhere and somehow the plastic castle is on fire. Now THIS is interesting. But then the fish work something out and they stop fighting, and later a couple of them visit the fish bowl way over in England. You tell your friends about your awesome fish, and they seem uninterested because you're talking to them about fish.

In the end I'm conflicted. The New World is certainly a film I can (and do) appreciate, but I can't see myself recommending it to anybody, not because it's bad -- which it definitely is not -- but because ultimately this is a film you don't watch for fun. It's a film to study. It's a film meant to enrich. It's a FILM more than it is a MOVIE.

In fact, if you must watch one Terrence Malick film, or you need a proper Terrence Malick introduction, I'd recommend The Thin Red Line. In addition to all of Malick's usual quiet cinematographic brilliance, it's got war and explosions and a bunch of unexpected cameos. You know, all that stuff that will keep your attention. Woody Harrelson blows his butt off.

So, to over-succinctly summate, here are reasons why I like The New World:
- it's pretty
- wonderful subtle performances
- it causes me to reevaluate (or at the very least consider from a different perspective) how I approach my own life
- Batman
- some fightin' and killin'
- film snob points

And reasons why I might balk at a second viewing:
- looooong
- considerable amount of non-action
- mushy love story (although if I'm honest with myself I was actually quite moved in the final few minutes of the film... not enough to cry or anything, but, well, you know...)
- Native American men never wear enough clothing
- I'm bad with accents, and I have a hard time with Colin Farrell's

Overall I give The New World 3.5 intrusive English colonies... out of 5

Beauty and the Beast, AKA What's Wrong With Gaston?

I remember watching this Disney classic as a youth and wondering, wait, why doesn't Belle like Gaston?  He's so cool.  Gaston was slick, quick, and had a neck that was incredibly thick.  He had biceps to spare and every inch of him was covered in hair.  As a 10 year old child being hairy was kind of the penultimate proof of one's manhood.  I never really understood  Belle. It was this point from which I concluded that all Women were A: illogical and B: didn't know what they really wanted.  Fast forward 20 years and turns out I was 100% correct as a child. 

As for the film.  It's a classic.  It says so on the title.  I'm not really a mega fan of Disney musicals.  I remember enjoying them more as a child when singing silly songs made sense but I grew out of that ideology at some point.  Movies such as this are wonderful for children and I would guess for parents to an extent but as a 30-year-old childless adult, the magic of Disney definitely lost on me.  It is not however lost on my wife who in her own respect is basically a 10 year old at heart half of the time.  For her sake I smile and am grateful that someday I will have young ones who will adore singing silly songs with Mom.

I'll award BatB a fully flexed 3 hairy biceps out of 5.

Beauty and the Beast: Sometimes I Don't Try Very Hard

3 Stars.

The New world eau de toilette

The New World is a flick that I liken to eau de toilette fragrances; it’s not quite good as perfume, but it’s said to awaken the senses, offering lighter aromatics than perfume. Like a great scent that sometimes lingers in a room after the source of the smell is long gone, this film sneaks up on you well after it’s end. Watching the film however, is a bit of an awkward experience. Well, with the forest frolicking (which was probably this group's favorite part), snail pace, and lack of in movie dialog, this movie could easily be turned off before you come to the end. To me, it’s the end (the last 45 mins or so) that really showcases the best elements of this movie. A broken Indian girl blossoms into multi-cultural woman, the pace picks up considerably, the cinematography is showcased via two continents, and two beautiful men compete for one striking woman’s stoic affection.

A lot of concepts in this movie could easily be overlooked though, as they’re either subtle or could not be considered of interest (in a movie). I value the use of the land/nature as it's own character, the nuances of human condition, and the challenges of two groups of people coming to terms with the existence of each other. What I love in particular is Mataoka’s emotional/spiritual journey and the behaviors of the settlers vs that of the Indians. The Indians have life down to a science; their connection to the land, commitment to each other, and savvy life skills (particularly farming/hunting) afforded them a truly simple, yet meaningful life. Met with the contrast of the Settlers, whose first steps onto the virgin land are filled with betrayal, and a sense of entitlement, begin the long and treacherous relationship between the white man and the reds. This yin/yang brings forth a lot of thoughts for me, with voyeuristic opportunities abound. I often think of how scary it was for both communities to encounter each other - it’s one thing to travel to another land and know that you will be greeted by another race, and people who speak another language, but how does your mind process the discovery of a new persons, on an unknown land? Mataouka’s story is truly poignant, whether autobiographical or not. Her growth from being a tribe leader’s daughter, to a lover, to a woman, while also overcoming her failures, and remaining open enough to take on the settler’s culture, leads to the arrival of a unified spirit/mother.

Robin Hood: Men In Tights -- It's Not You, It's Me

Dear Robin Hood: Men In Tights,

Hey. How are you doing? What are you up to today? We haven't seen each other in a while, have we? I'm alright. I assume you're about the same. You've always been fairly consistent that way.

Whatever, listen, I've got something I've got to say.

We've had some good times together. Actually, we've had A LOT of good times. The memories, the laughter. You're irreplaceable. I can't picture my life without you. But the future... OUR future...

Alright, hold on, this isn't turning out like I planned. You've always been direct with me, so it's time I was direct with you. There are things that need to be addressed. Things regarding you and me. You see, I'm having second thoughts...

Don't get me wrong. I've enjoyed the history we've shared. I don't remember the first time we met, but that only makes it feel like you've been there all along. I've talked about you to my friends. I've repeated the funny things you say. I've let you shape my image of British history.