Friday, February 17, 2017


The photo depicts Jude Law's Pope Pius XIII in a nutshell--a Pope who smokes even though it's banned in the Vatican (by His Holiness, if I recall correctly); who is vehemently opposed to homosexual priests even though he ultimately elevates one to be his overseer; who wants to remain unseen by the masses to preserve the mystery of the Church, yet wears what might be called runway Vatican chic (glowing white robes and hats, a white cashmere-looking running suit, red loafers) and orders a triple tiara for himself:

The Pope's given name, Lenny Belardo, also reflects this contrast or duality.  His first name recalls Lennie Small of Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men, a bear of a man yet innocent and intellectually/developmentally handicapped.  "Belardo" is from the Old High German, meaning strong and powerful as a bear. Pius XIII certainly presents himself initially as a powerful entity--a Trump-like tyrant who demands you do things his way or get the highway.  Yet Lenny is psychologically and developmentally handicapped by his trauma of abandonment, having been orphaned by hippie parents who left him to the care of a Catholic orphanage, where Lenny's surrogate "Ma" was Sister Mary, played by Diane Keaton, below, who wears a traditional habit during the day (tinted glasses and high-button collared in that Keaton-esque style, of course), but who lets her hair down and, well, expresses herself at night.

While the abandonment theme may come off as simplistic, as a psychotherapist, I can tell you that Lenny's fixation on why his parents gave him up (read: rejected him) is anything but. His self-worth is deeply wounded under a defensive armor of narcissistic grandiosity. (Look no further than Trump's narcissism: it is so very sad to witness how desperately this POTUS needs mirroring and validation of his acceptance--hence his incessant assertions of the "tremendous" numbers of those who supported him and his "yuge" ratings.)

A friend and fellow watcher of this show asked, Is Lenny a tyrant or is he a saint?  Sister Mary believes the latter, but I'd say
he's neither and both.  Lenny's an uncanny reader of those around him--for example, he knows that Guttierez (Javier Cámara, right) is essentially trustworthy and that the tonic for his anxiety and fear of life outside the Vatican walls is for him to be sent to New York on a mission, even though it initially seems like a penance. (Guttierez does, succeeds, and comes back a changed man.)  Lenny's impatient, dictatorial, dismissive.  Yet his prayers for a sterile couple result in a baby (whom the Pope literally drops in one scene--oops!--I guess he isn't completely infallible), and his prayers for divine intervention with regard to a false saintly nun end with her getting...well, let's just say some unholy water.

Lenny's mentor Cardinal Spencer (James Cronwell) becomes his rival and tormentor, but also ultimately guides his student from innocence to experience, from narcissism to empathy:

Lenny:  "Abortion has nothing to do with life."

Spencer:  "Who gives a damn about life?  Life is not some stupid centerpiece of the side table of nothingness.  Life is meant to be used, and to be used well.  To love and be loved. And let me remind you what St. Alphonsus said about abortion.  In an abortion, everyone is guilty, except for the woman."

Warning:  mild spoiler ahead!

By the end of this series (or season, hopefully), Lenny has softened, evolved:  he accepts Guittierez' sexuality; he shows himself to the people of Venice (okay, even if for the self-serving hope that his biological parents may show up).  But the strain of this transformation and acceptance on the the Pope's psyche makes him faint (one hopes not worse).

This HBO limited series has a 75% fresh critics' rating on Rotten Tomatoes--I'm shocked it wasn't higher.  Perhaps it has to do with the fact that people are essentially xenophobic when it comes to what might appear as a Catholic story.  It is, but with a small "c"--in the sense of universal (see references to DT above).  Or perhaps reviewers aren't used to a lead character who is so flagrantly both persona and shadow--who embodies our own dichotomies (we can tolerate superheroes or archenemies more readily--they're the ones who are simplistic).  Ironically, viewers give the series an 82% fresh rating--our unconventional young pope is amassing congregants.

Writer-director Paolo Sorrentino (The Great Beauty, Youth) extends the duality to every aspect of his series.  From The Pope drinking Cherry Coke to the use of contemporary music--the credit sequence diorama with Devlin's (All Along the) Watchtower and Law's wink is absolutely stunning.  (Click here for all the songs in the series.)  

Jude Law is hot as Pius XIII, and so is his publicist Sofia (Cécile De France), whom he lets sit on the papal throne. And how endearing does the Pope's potential nemesis Cardinal Voielllo (Silvio Orlando, below), with his yearning for Sister Mary, become?

This series is like Twin Peaks set in the Vatican.  It's written and directed with jaw-dropping style and verve.  It starts like a gangster movie but defies genre-fication.  So what's not to worship?

Let us pray for a Season 2.

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Sunday, December 25, 2016



Moving and meditative, Arrival is even better on second viewing--it resonates long after you leave the theater.  Amy Adams is wonderful.  There's Denis Villeneuve's soulful direction, Eric Heisserer's brilliant screenplay from Ted Chiang's Story of Your Life (no mean feat to adapt!), and a haunting, lovely score from Villeneuve's Sicario composer Jóhann Jóhansson (who's also composing for Blade Runner 2049).


Truth be told, I approached this film with some skepticism after having endured the 3-hour Lonergan cut of Margaret. But Manchester, with its seamless organic flashbacks and best-of-the-year actor and supporting actress performances from Casey Affleck and Michelle Williams, blew me away.


Quite simply, I think it's the best work Verhoeven and Huppert have ever done.  They're both auteurs.  And for my money, there's nothing like a stylish, well-wrought, provocative thriller.  I hope Huppert gets the Oscar for this.  For my full post on the film, click here.


Park Chan-Wook's stunning and sexy adaptation of Sarah Waters' novel Fingersmith.  The plot, in three parts, from three different POVs, left me slack-jawed with awe.


This appears to be director Pablo Larraín's year (his Neruda was also recently released).  The script for Jackie by Noah Oppenheim was originally to be an HBO mini-series produced by Steven Spielberg.  Natalie Portman gives an Oscar-worthy performance, and 29-year-old Mica (Micachu) Levi's arrestingly dissonant score knocked me out.


It appears to be Amy Adams' year as well.  I have to hand it to writer-director Tom Ford:  he took an interior, non-cinematic, not particularly well-written or engaging novel that somehow spoke to him, and he applied his vision to every aspect, resulting in a compelling, stylish neo noir.  And...Ford bankrolled the film himself (as he had done with A Single Man), because he can, and because he likes to have total creative control.  Kudos to him, Adams, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson.  And a terrific Michael Shannon.


Sleeper of the year from Scottish director David Mackenzie and writer Taylor (Sicario) Sheridan (part two of a trilogy). Ben Foster and Jeff Bridges are particularly great.


Superb film from director Anne Fontaine that's been puzzlingly missing from critics' top 2016 lists.  Here's the log line:   In 1945 Poland, a young French Red Cross doctor who's sent to assist the survivors of the German camps discovers several nuns in advanced states of pregnancy during a visit to a nearby convent.  The film is this year's Ida.


Jim Jarmusch's latest is refreshingly sincere and less self-consciously hip than his previous films.  Quite simply, it's the story of a bus driver/poet (wonderfully played by Adam Driver) named Paterson who lives in Paterson, New Jersey, home to poets William Carlos Williams and Allen Ginsberg.


You'd have to be pretty jaded to not respond at all to Damien Chazelle's magical tribute to musicals (which I generally won't even see) and Los Angeles.  It's not nearly as accomplished a film as Chazelle's Whiplash, but it's a charming outlier, and as so, audacious.  And Stone and Gosling are eminently watchable.

RUNNERS UP/HONORABLE MENTION:  Loving (beautiful jobs by writer-director Jeff Nichols, Ruth Negga, and Joel Edgerton), A Bigger Splash (Swinton! Schöenarts! Fiennes!), Moonlight (the adult casting of the leads ruined it for me--they looked nothing like their younger counterparts), Captain Fantastic (Viggo Mortensen deserves a nomination for this), Kicks, Midnight Special (also by writer-director Jeff Nichols), The Neon Demon.

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Saturday, October 22, 2016


 Writer-director Jeff Nichols' second film of 2016 (earlier this year his terrific Midnight Special was released) is Loving, a title that is a double entendre, being both the last name of the couple at its center as well as a story about loving.

I haven't seen Nichols' first film, 2007's Shotgun Stories, which he said he shot for $48K and which sat in the back of his father's furniture store for a long time because he initially didn't have the money to process the film stock, but all of the ones I have seen have been strikingly unique and affective dramas:  Take Shelter (in which Michael Shannon's character is well into developing paranoid schizophrenia--or maybe not), Mud (a Twainish story about young boys befriending a fugitive played by Matthew McConaughey), and the aforementioned Midnight Special (about a father and a son with special powers on the run).  Nichols was approached by the producers (who include Colin Firth) of the HBO documentary The Loving Story by Nancy Buirski, about Mildred and Richard Loving (pictured below), to turn the doc into a narrative film.

Nichols, at the Director's Guild in West Hollywood for a screening, said he warned the producers that if they were looking for a commercial film with the usual tropes--for example, the big courtroom drama that this could have been--he was not their guy.  In fact, this film is bigger than any courtroom drama, promised in the extreme close up that is its opening shot--simply Mildred's face wracked with an emotion that we don't, for a few moments, have any context for, hence her expression is initially inexplicable.  As inexplicable and ineffable as is love, and as Shakespeare put it, the "marriage of true minds."  Loving is a minimalist character drama that achieves intensity through its aching minimalism and subtlety.  And because it is so affecting and personal, it is far more effective in making a larger political statement about race and marriage and equality.  

"I think equality is an idea," Nichols put it, explaining that it's something never fully achieved or even achievable, but something each generation strives for again and again.  He was shocked that, as a Southerner (from Little Rock, Arkansas) and an American, he had known nothing about the Lovings' story until he'd seen the documentary.  (I hadn't, either.)  In the 50s and 60s, with regard to marriage, it was about equality in interracial marriage; now it's about same sex marriage.

Nichols has shot all five of his films on celluloid.  He explained why.  "I think suspension of disbelief is a very precious thing," and something he believes all narrative films need to have--even those based on real events.  He feels that celluloid helps that, because he finds that film "makes me sit up and focus."  Nichols says that when he's viewed recent period films shot on digital, he just doesn't buy them.  Also, "I want my films to have weight."  Joking about the literal weight of film canisters, he said he truly feels that celluloid adds heft.  Nichols' films not only induce "the willing suspension of disbelief," but demonstrate the filmmaker's "poetic faith," terms first used by the poet Coleridge:

"It was agreed, that my endeavours should be directed to persons and characters supernatural, or at least romantic, yet so as to transfer from our inward nature a human interest and a semblance of truth sufficient to procure for these shadows of imagination that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith."  --Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1817

Leads Ruth Negga (who's Irish, by the way), and Joel Edgerton (Australian) give Oscar-worthy performances.  The finesse of Mildred's subtly emerging character arc is particularly deft (I can't wait to for the PDF of the screenplay to see how it read without these performances).  And just the way Edgerton uses his body shows us everything about Richard's internal conflicts and feelings of awkwardness.  Nichols is fond of working with the same team--Edgerton was also in Midnight Special, and Michael Shannon, another alum, has a choice cameo in this film.

I loved the choice that Nichols made to use an elliptical approach to the lovers' relationship.  We come upon it in medias res--no trite meeting/courtship scenes, no sex scenes (but how soulful and sexy it is, then, when at one point Mildred takes Richard's hand, leads him into the bedroom, and he closes the door!).  In fact, in their first scene together, the two sit side by side but aren't initially even touching each other.  Nevertheless, the connection between them is palpable.  This is a testament to the actors' craft and to Nichols' writing and directing.

Loving is a beautiful piece of work by a gifted young (37) auteur whom Elle magazine deemed "already a national treasure" in their November issue.  Here's the trailer:

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