Category: Cate Blanchett

TÁR

By Marc S. Sanders

I’m not sure what to make of this.

One of the very first scenes of writer/director/producer Todd Field’s Oscar nominated film Tár captures its title character Lydia Tár being interviewed for her celebrated career as one of the few widely known female conductor/composers in the world.  Cate Blanchett is Lydia, and her vocal delivery is so crisp and sharp within the wordy conversation.  I hear everything she is saying and yet I can not comprehend one thing that she is talking about.  I’m sorry.  I lack the knowledge to know the value and gifts of a skilled classical musician who expertly leads an orchestra.  However, I think I gathered the most vital element of this scene.  Lydia Tár knows she’s a celebrity as she discusses the influence she collected from Leonard Bernstein, and as she sits on this stage with this interviewer, she knows that she is one to be admired.  Lydia Tár will likely claim to be the second coming of Bernstein. She is a proud -very proud-expert at her craft.  No question about that.  Yet, in front of this classroom audience she is also wearing her best figurative mask. 

(Interestingly enough and a POSSIBLE SPOILER, the final caption of the film has the audience she performs to donning masks.)

Shortly after that interview comes another one-on-one discussion with her agent/lawyer, and a different angle to Lydia is presented at the restaurant table.  I still found it challenging to understand the breadth of the conversation.  I could uncover one thing though.  The mask has been removed.  Lydia Tár is now a proud condescending bitch. 

The most eye opening scene occurs next as Lydia attempts to shatter the confidence of a student while she teaches a class at Julliard.  Constructively speaking, this roughly ten-minute sequence is fascinating.  Todd Field captures one long take, the camera never breaks away for an edit, as the composer destroys the position of this young student’s reasoning for not being an admirer of Bach.  It consists of long, breathless monologues that travel with Cate Blanchett’s stride and Todd Field’s camera as the actress circumvents the classroom and the stage located up front. The student does not approve of Bach as a CIS, white composer whose sexual activities led to multiple children.  However, Lydia does not factor in Bach as the person he was with his ugly warts and all. Rather she only values the art he created, and therefore this student should as well.  All that is contained in the notes on the page are what Bach should be treasured for.  Lydia confidently undoes the student’s argument with logic that is hard to win against.  Todd Field will demonstrate with the rest of his film this destructive skill will also be Lydia Tár’s undoing.

It’s quite a proficiency Lydia has for tearing down the principals of anyone confronted with her.  She is also adept at ripping away the promising potential and the talented traits that others possess.  Lydia knows what she does.  She knows the hurt and pain she inflicts among the people around her.  Yet, just as she explains to the student, she should also be appreciated like Bach.  You may despise her demeanor, but Lydia Tár is an artist of varying and exceptionally high degrees, especially for a woman.  She is writing a book about herself appropriately titled Tár On Tár.  She is in the middle of writing her own symphony, and she has the esteemed honor of conducting a major German orchestra in Berlin for an anticipated live performance of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 5. Therefore, who she is as a person should carry no matter.  Look only at what Lydia is capable of!!!!

Cate Blanchett is one of the few actors that can stand next to other talented peers like Meryl Streep, Jack Nicholson, Shirley MacLaine or Jimmy Stewart.  She is an uncompromising actress ready to play the unlikable characters necessary for effective storytelling.  Lydia Tár is one such sociopath.  Blanchett occupies nearly every frame of the picture, and she delivers such a frightening and obdurate drive to this person.  

It’s funny.  I often joke with a friend of mine about Faye Dunaway’s awful, over the top performance of Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest.  It’s so ridiculously out of control and manically abusive that I don’t know where to begin with that film.  Lydia Tár has that same kind of passion, but with Cate Blanchett possessing the character, accompanied by Todd Field’s script, there are an assortment of ways this tyrant leaves her carnage strewn about when she enters and leaves a scene.  The outbursts are timed perfectly for these crescendo moments where Lydia believes she has everything under control and contained, but then a screw comes loose in her functioning that derails everything she’s built herself up to be.

However, this character lives within the modern digital age, where cell phone video footage and social media serve as a mirror and a judge and jury.  It’s not so easy to dismiss what is said about Lydia when “if it appears on the internet, then it must be true.” Underlings will surrender to Lydia’s patronizing demands.  They will cower or fidget with an involuntary bouncing knee or a clicking pen in their hand, while in her presence.  Lydia is aware of the fear she invokes because she is so good at using it for her ongoing self-empowerment.  However, she is not capable of overcoming the judgment she must endure when she becomes associated with the suicide of one of her former musicians; someone she lent the illusion of valuing only to dismiss her without so much of a care later.  She’s also unaware of how to function without the dependability of her assistant, played by Noémie Merlant, doing her mousy best under the elephant shadow cast by Blanchett’s performance.  Furthermore, the intrusion of Lydia’s self-consciousness comes into play as she gets disrupted by sounds that interrupt her sleep or silence or concentration as she kills herself trying to write her piece and live within her ego.

Tár is a film with a lot to unpack.  The other Unpaid Movie Critic, Miguel, saw it before I did and told me that.  He could not be more astute with that observation.  I read his review after watching the film and my impression is pretty consistent with what he gathered from the piece.  However, as I stared at my computer monitor wanting to write about this film, I told Miguel that I am at a loss of what to say about the picture.  It’s a long movie.  It actually feels longer.  Ironically, if I were to watch it a second time, I think it would feel like a faster pace for me.  I guess because I’d have an idea of where Todd Field was going with his film.  My problem on this first go round was that I was lost as to what was occurring, and what or who was being talked about.  Todd Field tells this story with the presumption that his audience is familiar with the art and industry of music composition.  For me, the vernacular is totally foreign.  He doesn’t offer exposition to explain the science of it all like how a crime drama will allow moments to explain police procedure for example, or a fantasy will display who/what is most valuable in its kingdom.  Don’t misconstrue what I say, please.  I’m not complaining.  Tár speaks to the musicians first. 

Only later did I accept that much of what is held within the dialogue is not a priority for me. I should be examining the act of Lydia’s cruelty, self-absorption, and the response she elicits from anyone who steps into her world.  It’s interesting that Cate Blanchett speaks fluent German (she specifically learned it, as well as orchestral conducting for this film) to her orchestra, but sometimes Todd Field opts not to provide subtitles of what she’s saying to them.  In other moments though, he will.  It doesn’t matter what she is saying.  Her body language and her – well…her OUTSTANDING – performance convey the messages.

Because my mind deviated during the film, simply because it was a challenge to understand what was going on, I kept going back and forth with the little figures on my shoulders.  I hate it.  I like it.  I hate it.  Okay, now I like it.  Reflecting back on the film, I think Tár is an enormous achievement for both Cate Blanchett and Todd Field.  This film is a very far cry from the sentimental ingredients I found in his other films (Little Children, In The Bedroom). 

For Blanchett, this role is a massive test of endurance with endless amounts of dialogue to cover in long takes, along with speaking French, German and especially the dialect of classical music while she stands at the podium with the baton held in her hand.  She uses that baton like a weapon at times, a ruler with a broad sword or an extension of her arm.  There was one moment where she holds the instrument with both hands and swings it violently like a golf club or a baseball bat.  I’ve never seen that before.  It’s shocking how she handles herself.  I noted how Margot Robbie must have exhausted herself into oblivion while performing her drug fueled rages in Babylon.  I said she must have curled up in a corner after some takes just to calm herself down.  I would not be surprised if Cate Blanchett sought some therapeutical treatment following shooting some of these scenes.  A role like Lydia Tár is so tyrannical, so cruel, so paranoid and so indulgent that it exhausts you mentally to watch her function.  For Blanchett, her strive for perfection must have taken a toll on her mentally as well as physically. Her performance is comparable to the crazed obsession found in Daniel Day-Lewis’ portrayal of the greedy oilman Daniel Plainview in There Will Be Blood or what he achieved as Abraham Lincoln.

Come later this year, Cate Blanchett will be the one taking home the trophy for Best Actress at the Oscars. It’ll be so well deserved.

I recommend you see Tár, and I urge you to stay with it.  It’ll test you.  It’ll try you. Stay with it, though, because when it is over you won’t stop thinking about it.   

TÁR (2022)

by Miguel E. Rodriguez

DIRECTOR: Todd Field
CAST: Cate Blanchett, Noémie Merlant, Mark Strong, Allan Corduner
MY RATING: 10/10
ROTTEN TOMATOMETER: 91% Certified Fresh

PLOT: A renowned composer/conductor’s career and personal life take an unexpected turn after she embarks on a project to make a live recording of a prestigious, difficult symphony by Mahler.

[SPOILERS FOLLOW…BE WARNED]


In his invaluable book Making Movies, Sidney Lumet wrote: “Movies are very powerful.  You’d better have a lot to say if you want to run over two hours.”

I found myself remembering that quote as Tár began with three long scenes spanning 35 minutes of running time, in a film that runs 2 hours and 38 minutes.  In the first scene, a man interviews Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett), a prestigious and fiercely intelligent composer/conductor in a field traditionally dominated by men.  That scene runs at least ten minutes and is full of esoterica about composers, conducting, music theory, etcetera.  It’s wonderfully shot and acted…but despite my fanboy-level of admiration for Cate the Great, I started to wonder, “What have I gotten myself into?”

There is the briefest of breaks.  The second long scene takes place in a restaurant as Tár lunches with a colleague who seems interested in conducting as well, but who is not quite at Tár’s level…and she knows it, AND she never quite lets him forget it.  This scene is also filled with jargon and musical references that I didn’t quite get, but I found it interesting because here, Tár is no longer “performing” for the interviewer.  She’s more herself.  And she reveals herself to be, not only a tad self-involved, but also coldly calculating and decisive in her words and actions.

And then…the third scene.  Tár is teaching a class in music conducting at Juilliard.  In an astonishing unbroken take that lasts at least ten minutes, if not more, she demonstrates a mastery of the subject matter, but again reveals herself to be more overbearing and arrogant than we saw her at the top of the film.  One of her male students reveals he doesn’t care for Bach because he was a cis white male whose sexual proclivities resulted in 20-some-odd children.  In a wonderfully roundabout way, she asks him what Bach’s personal life has to do with chords and key changes.  It’s a brilliant dismantling of so-called “cancel culture,” though I’m not sure how much water her argument holds when it comes to, say, politicians or musicians espousing Nazism.  But it’s food for thought.

It’s that third scene that finally hooked me, and I was with Tár the whole rest of the way.  It was almost like an overture in three separate movements.  Given the subject matter, that can hardly be a coincidence.

I was not a literature major, but to a relative layman like me, Tár resembles nothing less than a Shakespearean tragedy.  It’s an intimate story told on a grand stage.  A towering figure, powerful, intelligent, passionate, makes questionable decisions based on her ego, her hubris, and her inability, or unwillingness, to allow humility into her life. Writer/producer/director Todd Field (making his first feature film since 2006) shoots his film in what appears to be mostly natural light, lending a Kubrickian feel to virtually every shot.  This enhances the film in a way that I can’t describe accurately…you’ll have to watch the movie to see what I mean.  The result is a movie that, yes, is “Oscar-bait”, but it’s too easy to dismiss it that way.  Tár stayed with me mentally the way only one other movie in the last few years has done: Hereditary.  The two could not be more different story-wise, but they both have a marvelous visual quality that, when combined with the dialogue and superlative acting, gives the impression of something pulsing beneath the surface.  This is top-notch filmmaking.

Throughout the movie, there are hints that, in spite of (or BECAUSE of) her meteoric rise to the lofty heights of her profession, there were casualties along the way.  These casualties seem to be haunting Tár in subtle ways.  Early in the film, we get glimpses of a woman with red hair.  Who is she?  We’re not told; she eventually disappears.  Tár receives an anonymous gift that, upon opening, she immediately throws into the trash.  What was the inscription?  On her morning jog through a tree-filled park, she hears blood-curdling screams, but she is unable to find the source.  (Easter egg alert: the screams were actually taken from the soundtrack of The Blair Witch Project…kinda cool.)

As Tár went on, I was continually fascinated, but I found myself coming back to that Lumet quote and asking: What is this movie saying?  What is Todd Field getting at?  That people in power should be more careful of how they treat others, especially friends and lovers?  Not exactly breaking news.  But as with so many other movies, it’s not WHAT the movie is saying, but HOW it’s saying it.  The movie’s length allows us to sort of settle into the routine of Tár’s life with her partner, her loyal assistant, her adopted child, her piano, her rehearsals, her infatuation with the new cellist, etcetera, so that when something out of the ordinary happens, you sit up and take notice.

As fate would have it, I recently sat down to watch another movie with a similar strategy: Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, a 1975 Belgian film that just recently won the top spot in Sight and Sound’s decennial critics’ poll.  For three hours, we observe a single mother going through the motions of “everyday” life – cooking, cleaning the house, feeding her teenage son, and daily assignations with men who pay her for sex.  The strategy of the movie is to establish the heroine’s routine drudgery so that when the smallest element is out of place, it takes on extraordinary meaning.

In my humble opinion, I believe Tár takes that strategy, refines it, and presents it for a more contemporary audience, take it or leave it.  For me, it worked.  The more I think about it, the more impressed I get.  I have a general rule about disliking movies with unlikable characters in the lead, but there are so many exceptions nowadays I’m thinking of demoting it to a guideline instead of a rule.  Cate Blanchett’s Tár is in every single scene of the film, and she has the trappings of being a fascinating dinner guest, but she is not someone I would want to be friends with.

Take her relationship with her assistant, played by Noémie Merlant (whom you may remember as the lead in Portrait of a Lady on Fire).  One day the assistant finds herself in line for a promotion.  Tár gives the promotion to someone else for her own petty reasons, and when the assistant resigns, Tár immediately resorts to anger and fury.  She has a revealing line where she says something to the effect of, “She KNOWS how much I depend on her!  She did this on purpose!”  Tár is so clueless about how terribly she treats people around her, she doesn’t even realize it when she accidentally admits how much she needs her assistant.  This is not a nice person.

This makes her tragic story arc fairly satisfying.  She begins to imagine phantom noises in her apartment at night.  Some are explained away; others aren’t.  An off-camera suicide occurs, and she is summoned to a deposition.  The press gets hold of the story, and suddenly she finds herself in the process of becoming cancelled, which makes her opening teaching session that much more ironic.

I’m rambling at this point.  I’m trying desperately to get my feelings of the movie across without giving too much of the plot away.  This was a thoroughly enjoyable character study, shot and written and performed in a way that made every moment impactful and mesmerizing.  As a fan of classical music, I LOVED the scenes where she conducts a German orchestra.  She has a speech about how a conductor must literally obliterate herself in the service of the music, and I found that equally applicable to stagecraft.  There is so much to like in this movie it’s difficult to know where to start or how to finish.

What is Tár telling us that is so important that it takes 2-and-half hours to tell?  Maybe it’s something different for everyone.  Maybe the better question is: What does it tell you?

INDIANA JONES AND THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL

By Marc S. Sanders

Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull succeeds on so many levels of storytelling and construction. It stays true to form of its title character protagonist. Indy is not only a hero. He’s also a traveler of history. The film takes place in the year 1957, and director Steven Spielberg delivers visuals that reiterate the time, when the Cold War was on the horizon, and Nazi Germany was behind us. It’s time for the Russians to step up as the big bad.

David Koepp’s script really is quite brilliant as it never loses sight of the times with references to McCarthyism, communist red scare, and flying saucers and aliens directly inspired by the B movie serials of the decade. Even Shia LeBeouf portraying a sidekick to Indy is a model of Marlon Brando from The Wild One.

I’ve mentioned before how simply the silhouette of the famed archeologist with his fedora hat and bullwhip is as recognizable as Batman or Darth Vader or James Bond. Here, Spielberg uses the visual motif against a mushroom cloud of a nuclear bomb test site, and later against a flying saucer. As noted earlier, Dr. Jones moves with time; truly living up to his famous phrase, “It’s not the years honey. It’s the mileage.”

Harrison Ford maintains the character quite well, still skeptical of what is not literal. He’s not prepared to believe in higher powers until he sees it for himself. Ford conveys Koepp’s interpretation very well.

It’s refreshing that he is paired up again with Karen Allen as Marion Ravenwood (from Raiders), the best of Indy’s female companions. Their sparring remains natural. Allen folds back into her role quite comfortably.

Stalin’s top underling is dispatched with recovering a legendary Crystal Skull and revealing it’s true power. Master character actor Cate Blanchett makes for a great Russian bob haircut villain, with uniform physique. She’s smart but she’s got every fighting skill known to pose great threat.

An infamous scene involves Indy sheltering himself in a refrigerator to survive a nuclear blast. Majority despise this scene. The phrase “Nuke The Fridge” became almost as iconic as “Jump The Shark,” simply for the audacity of its imagination. After having witnessed the near-death escapes of his past adventures (parachuting from a plane in an inflatable raft, sliding under a speeding truck, becoming “a penitent man” to cross a cavern), what is so wrong with this moment? Heck, Spielberg knows it’s crazy which is why he offers a close up indicating the fridge is “lead lined.” The scene works because it holds true to Indiana Jones’ series of absurd survival.

Besides all of the periodic references, the set design of Kingdom… is spectacular. Looking at the final act of the film, we are treated to a column that opens itself up with ingenuity as sand must pour out of the column in order for the structure to open with a receding downward staircase. Then, there’s a beautiful open sesame moment before entering a circular throne room.

Another earlier moment stages a hidden chamber that is revealed on a large, stone, tilted disc. All of this collectively speaking is truly one of the best set pieces in all four of the Indy films.

A delightfully fun car/motorcycle chase on Indy’s college campus is great as well as there is jumping from bike to car and back to on to the bike before swerving into the library. The scenic background design has to be admired for showing protest signs to Communism on campus. The film never loses sight of where its story is set. Detractors of this film fail to recognize any of this.

Fans also took issue with LeBeouf. Not me. He’s got an adventurous fun side to him. The smart aleck way of Ford’s younger years, but not the same character background. He has fun with swinging from vines and sword fights, in the same vein of a mine car chase from a prior installment.

The story is moved by clues and maps and deciphering a welcome John Hurt who speaks in a gibberish of riddles that stem from a brainwash his character experiences. This is all good for a great pursuit. Nothing is easily revealed. Mayan writing needs to be interpreted; maps need to be read. Stories of legend need to be told. Indy needs to apply his professional knowledge to move forward through the Amazon to his final destination.

I’d argue that Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull is one of the most misunderstood and divisive films of all time. People gave up on it too easily, I think. They reserved their approval because of either a ridiculous title (a great B movie title), or LeBeouf’s casting, or Ford’s age, or vine swinging and big ass red ants (a great monster horror scene by the way). I say those folks just didn’t get it and failed to recognize where all of this stemmed from. David Koepp, George Lucas and Steven Spielberg were very aware of what to present. If I were them, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Again, it’s not the years. It’s the mileage.

THOR: RAGNORöK

By Marc S. Sanders

Thor’s third adventure in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, subtitled Ragnarök, is altogether fun, silly and primarily very campy. Sure, Cate Blanchett looks wickedly theatric as Thor’s evil older sibling Hera, but even she is not taking any of this too seriously.

There’s not much to evaluate within this film. Chris Hemsworth and Tom Hiddleston return as brothers at odds, Thor & Loki, and get sidetracked on a gladiator battle planet where they encounter a lighter, more tender and funnier Hulk care of Mark Ruffalo. The camp also comes to the forefront by way of Jeff Goldblum as the Gamemaster, a role obviously engineered to cater to his dialect idiosyncrasies.

The film is lots of neon colors of CGI and set piece junk helmed by director Taika Waititi. I commend Marvel Studios for recruiting these (at the time) unheard of directors with insightful visions. While most every Marvel film to date has its own unique appearance, Thor: Ragnarök is a balance of the prior Thor films, banking on the humorous success of the Guardians Of The Galaxy films.

The gem this film offers is combining Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” with a fierce lightening powered one eyed Thor to fend off a few baddies. Compliments also to a bad ass, and sometimes drunk, Tessa Thompson as the Asgardian known as Valkyrie.

A favorite moment is an encounter with Benedict Cumberbatch as Dr. Strange. Good editing and direction offer an inspired Three Stooges routine where Thor is unexpectedly thrust about down a staircase or through a room. Plays like a great cartoon short.

Ragnarök has some shocking moments in its ending, but the weight of drama or story is none too burdensome.

It’s nothing special of a film, but it is amusing and gleeful, especially when Thor is forced to a chair while Willy Wonka’s “Pure Imagination” plays like annoying elevator music. That is sure to make the God Of Thunder irritable, and we the audience only gain from it.

Thor: Ragnarök is really a fun family movie of adventure, good character design and laughs.

THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING

By Marc S. Sanders

I remember film critic Gene Siskel once said that to take issue with the length of a film is not entirely fair. After all, you are getting more movie for your buck. Would Siskel have felt that way about The Lord Of The Rings: The Return Of The King? Peter Jackson closes out the film adaptation of JRR Tolkien’s sweeping fantasy with an epic that allows you to marvel at everything you see, but does that mean we want to feel as overly exhausted as its main protagonist, Frodo Baggins, feels? Trust me. Poor Frodo looks wiped.

More battles are enacted in the third film. Jackson just changes the dynamics up a little bit. Now armies don elephants with a number of enormous, curved tusks. Another army has a different looking giant troll. Haven’t seen elephants before. Haven’t seen that kind of troll yet either. As well, there is another King who is apprehensive to cooperate in the fight against Sauran and his Orc minions. There’s also a green glowing ghost army. Meanwhile, Frodo and Sam (Elijah Wood and Sean Astin) continue their journey to Mount Doom where the almighty Ring must be destroyed. Gollum (Andy Serkis) remains as their untrustworthy guide.

Jackson seemingly covers every page written by Tolkien. I’m talking about depicting every dream each character has or line they utter or slow motion expression they offer, or walk that they take. Peter Jackson is a completist.

The Return Of The King won Best Picture along with a bevy of other Oscars. Seemingly it should have won anyway. The first two films were recognized with Best Picture nominations as well. For the third film to win was to honor the entire trilogy and its achievements in filmmaking. The Lord Of The Rings trilogy reinvented movie making as a whole. The bar was set so much higher following its release and huge reception of these films.

That being said, it takes endurance to stay with the picture. Most especially with The Return Of The King as the film has multiple endings. Just when you think it’s over, it’s not, and it’s tedious and a little frustrating. Jackson seemed to have too hard a time saying farewell to his digital Middle Earth with its endearing characters.

The length is a problem I have with the film, but none of it seems wasteful either. Every caption and scene carry an importance to it. At least that’s how Jackson wants you to feel. The question is, if a number of momentary scenes had not been woven into the final edit, would I miss it, and my answer would be likely not.

THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE TWO TOWERS

By Marc S. Sanders

Peter Jackson’s second installment film adaptation of JRR Tolkien’s The Lord Of The Rings trilogy is The Two Towers. The captivating fantasy themes that audiences discovered in the first film continues.

Battle scenes with Orc armies are well edited and staged perfectly in digital settings. The film’s ending with a long, drawn-out battle located at the stone castle Helms Deep is stunning, full of heroic actions executed by favorite characters like Legolas the Elf (Orlando Bloom), Gimli the Dwarf (John Rhys-Davis) and especially Aragorn, destined to be King (Viggo Mortensen).

The Two Towers is almost marvelous with the exception of an overstayed welcome of the Ents – life size talking trees. Treebeard is the main Ent character, where the Hobbits Merry and Pippin take shelter by sitting on his branches. The effects of the Ents work. When the film returns to this storyline however, the narrative drags and the audience suffers. Treebeard converses in his own speak with the other Ents, the Hobbits ask “well?” and it’s supposed to be amusing that all they said was good morning. It’s not amusing. It’s boring.

The big centerpiece of the film belongs to Andy Serkis doing his full body animated effect to bring the untrustworthy, dual personality Gollum/Sméagol to life. Serkis should have received an Oscar nomination as he piggy backs on the continuous journey that Samwise Gamgee (Sean Astin) takes with the ring bearer Frodo (Elijah Wood). Gollum can’t resist what he once owned for himself-the “precious” Ring. Frodo’s good instincts insist upon not harming Gollum or Sméagol while Sam has strong reservations.

Jackson’s second film offers up a heightened urgency on all fronts. He’s good at showing the weight of the ring upon the psyche of Frodo and Gollum and he leaves time for other stories where Saruman’s (Christopher Lee) army conquers more lands-allegorical to the period of time when Tolkien wrote his novels following Nazi occupation within Europe.

Jackson is a completist and no stone is left unturned. A large portion of the film is appreciated even when you consider that you can take a bathroom break anytime Treebeard shows up.

THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWHSHIP OF THE RING

By Marc S. Sanders

JRR Tolkien was one of the 20th Century’s greatest fantasy writers. The Lord Of The Rings series was a dense, sweeping epic inspired by the torn European climate during World War II and its conflict with the Axis nations, particularly Hitler and his organized Nazi Germany.

Peter Jackson found the opportunity to adapt Tolkien’s works. In 2001, The Fellowship Of The Ring amazed audiences with its epic landscape of Middle Earth, Isengard and Mordor where the fiery Mount Doom is located and the evil eye of Sauron waits for a resurgence of overthrow.

Much happens in each three hours plus Rings films. Tolkien’s story is not so much plot, but moreover a journey from one adventure to another. What’s special is that the main hero is a small, kind Hobbit named Frodo Baggins (Elijah Wood) who has been tasked with carrying the dangerously powerful “One Ring To Rule Them All” back to Mount Doom and destroy it. He is aided by eight fellows, three other Hobbits and four representatives of various nations and backgrounds to protect and escort him. The most significant member is the wise wizard Gandalf The Grey played by Ian McKellen in an Oscar nominated performance. The other characters’ significance become more established in later films.

This first installment is my favorite of the series because it is the most absorbing. I believe in the all but sinister and deadly value of Tolkien and Jackson’s MacGuffin, the Ring. Jackson does well of posing the threat of danger each time Frodo dons the Ring for the sake of invisibility while the Orc army of Saruman, Sauron’s Wizard henchman played by Christopher Lee, bears down on the Fellowship. The film shows one battle after another but the suspense is heightened each time as we become more familiar with Jackson’s digital world. It’s also quite dramatic to see Frodo become consumed in fear and a kind of sickness as the possession of the Ring weighs upon him. To precisely show that transition requires a three hour film, and Elijah Wood is up to the task, always appearing quite angelic and unsure of his assignment. Wood is quite the underrated actor.

There are a multitude of character descriptions in The Fellowship Of The Ring and a number of them come into play when centered around the viewpoint of the Ring. Backstories for others are really not necessary but Jackson attempts to cram as much of Tolkien’s narrative as possible. Beyond Frodo, and maybe Gandalf, the other most interesting character here is that of Boromir played by Sean Bean, often playing a variation of a hero in his films, but quite good at not being worthy of endless accolades. Boromir is a great character to show how the temptation of the Ring can cloud and poison the mind. Bean evokes that of one who might be a weak addict, needing a quick fix of the Ring’s power. There’s a complexity to his performance. Boromir is likable but Sean Bean makes the character quite shocking as well. He’s not a villain but his internal weakness presents a conflict for Frodo and his band. Sean Bean never got enough recognition for his role here.

Peter Jackson is the real hero though. This series is a massive cinematic accomplishment. Everything feels gratefully familiar. Perhaps that is from reading Tolkien’s visually descriptive books, or maybe even the animated film from the seventies. There’s something to see in every corner of the screen. It’s a world come alive in leaves, creatures on land or in the sky, sorcery and swords, flames and even saloons of overflowing drink and large platters of food. The Shire where Frodo lives with his uncle Bilbo (an excellent and jovial Ian Holm) comes off as a happy utopian village of farming and Hobbit celebrations of laziness and relaxation from any outside elements. Jackson contrasts this beautifully against the majesty of Rivendell and the hell of Mordor. It’s a nuanced universe.

Again, for me this first installment remains the best as it is cinched up tightly in its exposition and narrative. Later films are just as grand but maybe sidestep away from themselves a little.

I never got that impression with The Fellowship Of The Ring. Everything I see belongs in the film.

NIGHTMARE ALLEY (2021)

By Marc S. Sanders

Guillermo del Toro’s Nightmare Alley is a visual feast of the macabre set in a Depression era western America.  Every caption caught on film is unbelievable to look at, and while I know del Toro released his picture in black and white to enhance its film noir theme, I was truly delighted with the color version of the film.  With del Toro’s direction and photography designed by Dan Lausten, every dimension and sparkle of color from a sunset to a dreary cloud in the sky to the lights on a Ferris wheel spinning in an open field from the distance is absolutely jaw dropping.  Nightmare Alley is a modern technical masterpiece.  It makes me want to go back and watch the original 1947 version, as well as explore other productions in the film noir category.

Bradley Cooper portrays Stanton Carlisle, a murderous drifter who ends up accompanying a traveling carnival of garish figures who entertain their quirky qualities for townsfolk to be marveled and amazed.  There’s the flexible snakeman, the world’s strongest man (del Toro regular, Ron Perlman), the smallest man alive, the electrical woman, the psychic and the terrorizing, caged “geek” who will eat the head off a live chicken in front of your very eyes.  At first Stanton serves as a heavy meant to carry loads and set up and strike the tents and stages as the show moves from town to town.  He connects though with the psychic (Toni Collette) and the architect behind her façade (David Strathairn).  Soon, Stanton is adopting their techniques of using code words and hand gestures to “read the minds” of the various audience participants. 

He goes even further by redesigning the electrical woman’s presentation. Before she was using teslas to demonstrate her will to generate electrical currents.  Now she can be zapped in an electric chair.  The woman is Molly (Rooney Mara), and a relationship begins that sends her and Stanton on a successful tour away from the carnival where they entertain more sophisticated and wealthier nightclub guests with his psychic abilities.  One attendee, however, is on to Stanton’s devices, a beautifully alluring psychiatrist named Lilith (Cate Blanchett).  She maneuvers Stanton into using his manipulative talents into conning her clients.  She has recorded her sessions and will share confidential information with Stanton. Then, he will use that towards his ongoing psychic advantage as a means to swindle them of their fortunes.  Lilith and Stanton will split the rewards.  The play seems convincing enough for the likes of a wealthy industrialist named Ezra, played by Richard Jenkins yearning to reconnect with his deceased wife at a cost of thousands of dollars for Stanton’s services.

The narrative of Nightmare Alley is so absorbing.  Everything is beautifully staged.  A fun house hall of mirrors has a décor of disturbing imagery.  Stanton enters this place symbolically at the beginning of the film in search of the runaway “geek.”  The surroundings display the seven deadly sins around a large skull and other haunted house imagery.  del Toro demonstrates what Stanton is about to enter, which occupies the remainder of the film.  Stanton performs on the motivations of greed and lust and vanity.  Maybe, pride as well.  At least those are the first couple of sins that come to my mind.  How will his actions reflect back on him later on, though?

The film is also performed by a magnificent cast.  Cooper is doing some of his best work here.  While I feel like I’ve seen Blanchett’s deceitful character before, I don’t mind.  I can’t think of anyone else to play the role.  Curiously, del Toro has Mara, with her snow-white complexion, dressed in red quite often amid a cast of characters and extras wearing blacks and dark greys.  She’s meant to stand out as the innocent.  Molly questions Stanton’s decisions while also trying to convince him to end his charades.  Yet, she only serves as a disturbing pawn in the shyster’s tricks.  Will Stanton corrupt Molly though?  It’s one thing to put on a magic show for a couple of hours each night.  It’s another when you are swindling the massive fortunes of others and toying with their despair. 

Other surprise performers that appear include Willem Dafoe as the showman for the “geek,” and a late appearance by Tim Blake Nelson to close out the film and deliver what’s to come of Stanton. 

Nightmare Alley deliberately moves at a slow pace, but that only allows you to take in its various environments.  From the carnival tents to the nightclubs to the alleyways, to Ezra’s snow covered never-ending garden, and even Lillith’s gold embossed office of cabinetry and furniture are so hypnotic and dark in its intended film noir way.  Again, while I’m sure there’s some striking qualities to the black and white interpretation of the film, I really fell in love with the colors provided by Lausten’s photography.

I won’t call this a favorite film of mine, but I loved the journey of it all.  I appreciated the script by del Toro and Kim Morgan, adapted from the novel by Lindsay Gresham, that depicts a sinful man like Stanton devolve into more sin, until he’s only undone by a smarter sinner than he; a sinner masked within beauty and wealth with a noble and educated profession.  Bradley Cooper and Cate Blanchett perform beautifully with one another.  They make a terrific pair.  I only hope they’ll do another film together.

NIGHTMARE ALLEY (2021)

by Miguel E. Rodriguez

Director: Guillermo del Toro
Cast: Bradley Cooper, Cate Blanchett, Toni Collette, Willem Dafoe, Rooney Mara, David Strathairn
My Rating: 6/10
Rotten Tomatometer: 80% Certified Fresh

PLOT: An ambitious carny with a talent for manipulating people with a few well-chosen words hooks up with a female psychiatrist who is even more dangerous than he is.


No good movie is too long; no bad movie is short enough. – Roger Ebert

Nightmare Alley is director Guillermo del Toro’s longest film to date at exactly two-and-a-half hours.  Going by Ebert’s dictum above, I have to say that it was too long by maybe a half hour or more, but that doesn’t make it a “bad” film.  Just a poorly edited one.

The story revolves around a Depression-era drifter with a troubled past who becomes a carny with the kind of flea-bitten traveling circus that tours all the urban hotspots of Iowa and Kansas, and which is almost all sideshows: a psychic (Toni Collette), a giant (played by del Toro regular Ron Perlman), a rubber man, a girl impervious to electrical currents (Rooney Mara), and a geek show, among other things.  What’s a geek show, you ask?  Why, that’s where people pay two bits to watch a man bite the head off a live chicken.  We are shown one such performance in the opening minutes of the film.  It’s hard for me to believe people were entertained by this, no matter how long ago it was.  I mean, the geek did not look like he was having much fun…although he did seem to be having more fun than the chicken.

Anyway, to make a long story short, the carny, named Stanton (Bradley Cooper), befriends the psychic and her husband (David Strathairn) and reveals that he has always been a student of human behavior, and with a few quick observations, he can make factual statements about someone that boggle the mind.  One thing leads to another, and eventually he leaves the carny behind, with the electrical-current girl, Molly, in tow.  Soon he is headlining nightclubs and posh bars with his mind-reading act, with Molly as his assistant.  One night a beautiful psychiatrist with a level-headed gaze (Cate Blanchett) sees one of his performances and suggests a con: she will provide detailed information about her rich and powerful patients on the sly, and he will do command performances for these elites, making them both rich.  What happens next, I leave for you to discover.

(I must be honest: this is not the kind of film I was expecting from del Toro.  A character study of tragic greed and hubris?  Where are the monsters?  The supernatural nightmares of the title?  But I’m always telling people to criticize the movie the filmmakers made, and not the movie you wish they had made.  I press on.)

I’m finding it hard to summarize my thoughts here.  The movie looked great.  I mean, it looked amazing.  At one point, Stanton runs into the carnival’s funhouse looking for someone, and it’s filled with the kind of over-the-top prop demons and fake ghosts that made me hope we would get a later sequence where these things came alive in some horrifying way.  But no, it’s just intended as throwaway scenery, glimpsed once and never seen again.

There is an extended sequence where Stanton tries to revamp Molly’s act as the “Electric Girl”, coming up with new costumes, new props, new patter (patter is important with sideshows), and it’s a relatively lengthy sequence which felt like it was setting something up.  And, yeah, there’s kind of a payoff, but not the kind I felt it was building towards.

The movie left me with a vague sense of frustration throughout.  We are fed gobs of information about the tricks used by sideshow psychics, the sad ploy used to hire the geeks, the psychic’s husband looms large in the story and then abruptly becomes a non-factor, and it just went on and on and on.  Then in the “riches” part of the rags-to-riches story, Stanton has become insufferable, a believer of his own press releases, willing to put his livelihood (and his life) in jeopardy for that one last big job.

This is all very intriguing stuff, on paper.  But as executed and written, there seemed to be unnecessarily long scenes with loads of information being dumped on us with nothing moving the action forward.  I would pay money to watch Cate Blanchett read a Denny’s menu, but even her extended “therapy” sessions with Bradley Cooper felt interminable.  I felt like those random crowds in Monty Python and the Holy Grail periodically yelling, “GET ON WITH IT!”

To be fair, the Stanton character does eventually get his comeuppance, in literally the final ten minutes of the film.  Full disclosure, I will say without spoilers that it is very gratifying, it had me and some random dude behind me exclaiming loudly in the movie theater, and it features some of the best acting Bradley Cooper has ever done.  But…it came long after I had started shifting in my seat and wondering if I would miss anything important if I ran to get some more candy.

I give Nightmare Alley a 6 out of 10, mainly because it looks so damn good.  del Toro has yet to make a movie that doesn’t look masterful (yes, even Blade II is a beauty to behold).  Also, the acting all around is top notch.  There’s talk Cooper may get an Oscar nod, which wouldn’t surprise me.  But it boils down to a very, VERY long drive for an all-too-short day at Denouement Beach.  A ninety-minute movie crammed into 150 minutes.  Alas.