The Bon Vivant of Brooklyn

There Will Be OSCARS.  Oh yes, there will be Oscars.

Paul Thomas Anderson may not be the most prolific auteur in Hollywood, but he is without a doubt the most consistently brilliant.  It's been five years since Punch Drunk Love, and it's been eight years since Magnolia, but it has surely been worth the wait, because this film is his Citizen Kane.  It is an epic tragedy of ambition that pulls whole cloth from Shakespeare's MacBeth and any number of depressing Greek sagas, but weaves the tale with an originality that is rarely found these days.  He has honestly made Ang Lee and Brokeback Mountain look pathetic in comparison (okay, well, that's a romantic tragedy, but you get my drift).

Daniel Day-Lewis delivers one of the most compelling performances I have seen in a very, very, very long time.  If he does not win Best Actor this year, it will be absolutely criminal.  And his genius is all in the details:  the nuance of his facial expressions, the gesture of a limp that stays with the character throughout his life, and the perfect inflection of his voice reflecting exactly what his character is thinking at that exact moment.

Paul Dano (Little Miss Sunshine, L.I.E.) has an inspired performance himself as the adversarial town preacher, but somehow it feels like the casting choice was slighty off.  He cannot compete at all with the monumental Day-Lewis, and thus his frenetic and fanatic character comes off a bit more childish than it should, despite his valiant attempts at religious fervor.  Dano is simply a young flower wilting in the shadow of the mature oak tree that is Daniel Day-Lewis, who is at his peak powers playing the wildcat oil man who runs along the razor's edge of madness.

And Anderson is also scaling and topping his own creative heights.  His director's vision is uncanny, and the images he captures in the film border on supernaturally beautiful.  I'm thinking in particular of the way he exhibits the harsh desert landscapes; the portrayal of the rough mechanisms of turn-of-the-century industry - churning derricks, wooden rigging, rusting metal, men as cogs in the unstoppable machine of progress; and even a peaceful moment of blue sky and fluffy clouds reflected in the shiny yet abyssal blackness of a pool of crude oil.  The tension in the film is unrelenting without being dissatisfying, and the original score by Jonny Greenwood (lead guitarist of Radiohead) masterfully plays out this coil of suspense, winding and unwinding it throughout, complementing the pure insanity that drips out of Daniel Day-Lewis at all the right moments.

Kudos to Paramount Vantage and Miramax for blowing this incredible breath of fresh air back into cinema.  Paramount Vantage is having a banner year with the release of No Country For Old Men, Margot at the Wedding, and Into The Wild - but this masterpiece is the tastiest icing on that cake that I can imagine.  Well done, and may you win the awards you richly deserve!

(Gawker-style note:  I had a brief celebrity sighting of Peter Sarsgaard and Maggie Gyllenhaal arm in arm at the concession stand, and thought "OMG how cool" in my inimitable not-yet-used-to-seeing-celebrities-in-real-life style.)

When I first came across The Golden Compass as a novel, several years ago, I was pretty fascinated by the concepts presented in it; every reviewer compared it to Tolkein as similar in scope.  And to some degree, I think this is true; the alternate world in Phillip Pullman's trilogy is grand and diverse, with a sweeping, rich tapestry of history.

If only the first cinematic installment of that trilogy had achieved that same sense of scale!  I won't say that the film was a bad adaptation of the story - it was fantastically true to the spirit of the book.  I also won't say that the effects or the cinematography were poorly executed; the animal Daemons are probably the pinnacle of CG, and the design of vehicles and buildings and other pieces of sets and production is truly fantastic in all senses of the word.  I can't even say that the performances in the film were subpar - every word uttered by Nicole Kidman was tinged with venom and madness, and Derek Jacobi played the self-righteous leader of the Magisterium with every ounce of skill he had.

My disappointment with The Golden Compass is that it has a running time of one hour, fifty-three minutes.  In an era of long-ass movies, on the heels of the twelve hour extended uber-fantasy Lord of the Rings, director Chris Weitz took the bold step of shoehorning this story into a two hour slot.  And it's my belief that squeezing 200 minutes of fantasy movie into a 150 minute film has detracted from the experience.  I wanted more of the actor's performances than I got.  I wanted to be watching a movie that didn't feel as though it were stuck on fast forward.  It barely made sense in places; how did the relationship between those two characters become so deep and strong so quickly?  If you blink in some places, you'll miss what's happening, if you don't listen very carefully, you'll miss the important setup that the characters are talking about.  Maybe it was just an odd side effect, that somehow the sense of time passing in the film wasn't conveyed properly.

I really wanted to love this movie, but I only liked it.  Damning praise, I know, but my standards are pretty high.  I suspect that it will do well at the box office no matter what, as it's a "kids' movie" and parents will take their kids to a movie during the holiday season (and there's no Harry Potter flick to compete with it).  And there will surely be sequels no matter what.  Really what I'm suspecting is that no one of these movies will be able to stand on its own - but I bet all three, probably even watched all at once, will make one fantastic story.

So, should you go see it?  Well, it is a pretty dry season for movies right now.  But if you're like me, you'll find that The Golden Compass goes down like Chinese food... you'll be hungry for something else right after you finish.

What does Zen Buddhism have to do with food?  A lot more than you might think.

This documentary from writer/director Doris Dorrie regales us with the personality and philosophy of zen master chef (also called a tenzo) Edward Espe Brown of the Tassajara center in San Francisco.  I had previously heard of the Tassajara bread book and the Tassajara cookbook, but had not realized that these came from a zen meditation center!  When I first saw the trailer for this film at the IFC Center, I was thrilled - when I got to see a screener of the film some time ago, I was utterly captivated.

I've always believed that there should be a religion based solely on food.  I think that Edward Espe Brown has gotten as close to that goal as anyone else ever has.  He is a fascinating character; a calm and present zen master who utterly lacks patience, and becomes overwhelmed by emotion!  I almost found myself comparing him to Star Trek's Mr. Spock, who would be completely rational one minute, then be getting jiggy with his Pon Far the next minute.  You can easily see that Brown is filled with passion for food - the film goes from cooking class to lecture to dinner table and back again, and every scene is a tale or a tantrum from Mr. Brown.

In between each narrative section of the film, there is a gorgeous shot of a foodstuff that represents the subject matter of that section.  It's a great segue technique... I almost found myself drooling a couple times while watching the food and the preparation.  There's really not much more to say - the film is essentially just a character study of the chef, with only fleeting appearances by students and other members of the zen cooking staff.  But I highly recommend the film, whether you're interested in the study of zen, or interesting characters, or food and cooking, or all of the above.  The film itself is really a meditation on life and being, as enabled by the literally creative process of cooking and eating.  It'll be playing at the IFC Center for the next two weeks, catch it while you can!

[Where: 323 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10014]

Documentaries are rarely mainstream fare; they are too often relegated to the dusty corners of non-fiction shelves, and left for consumption by political activists and intellectuals willing to stomach the sometimes dry content.

Not so with The King Of Kong: A Fistful Of Quarters.  The truth behind this real-life narrative, and behind many other documentary features, is that reality is stranger, funnier, and more believable than any type of fiction could ever be.  This film in particular is especially theatrical in its execution, perhaps because of its subject:  the competition over who holds the world's highest score on the classic video game Donkey Kong.  As any sports fan can tell you, the drama of competitive games can be riveting, with the ultimate challenge often gluing you to the edge of your seat.

This is exactly the case with The King Of Kong.  At its heart it is a sports rivalry story - but it expands into something much greater by the time it concludes.  It slowly unfolds itself beginning with the life stories of the middle aging video game wizards, and telling the history of Walter Day and Twin Galaxies (the individual and his arcade/organization that made itself responsible for keeping scores).  Billy Mitchell, the champ (and his twenty year Donkey Kong record), stands proudly beside Twin Galaxies - and is himself a referee of scoring, while also holding multiple records on several classic games.  Steve Wiebe, the challenger, is a schoolteacher who just happens to have incredible hand-eye coordination and obsessive determination.  Steve is the focus of the film, as he fights an uphill battle to get his score recognized by an organization that refuses to recognize him.

Gathered around these nearly archetypal personalities of crowned champ and quietly raging contender are a constellation of nerds, geeks, dorks, and combinations of all three; a literal cavalcade of wacky characters who frame the conflict in the most human terms possible.  And this conflict is exactly what the film is all about:  human nature at its best and most base; the drive to win, and the prices people will pay; and yes - "the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat."

We're talking about a microcosm in an arcade that mirrors the deepest metaphors of human conflict:  bad guy versus good guy, dark versus light, empire versus rebellion, Donkey Kong versus Mario.  Even the game itself represents the fight between Billy and Steve!  To paraphrase Ed Cunningham (former football star, ESPN commentator, and the film's producer):

"The metaphor extends into the game itself!  You've got this great big gorilla [Billy] hucking barrels at the hero [Steve] who keeps on going no matter what!"

I was lucky enough to attend two events for the film this week (the photos come from those events, more can be found here); the first was a screening at the Museum of the Moving Image, followed by a party and a Donkey Kong demonstration, and the second was a screening party at Dave & Busters Times Square, where Steve Wiebe managed to achieve the fourth ever known "kill screen" on Donkey Kong (video link)  (For those not in the know:  a kill screen is the point where the game truly ends - the program of the arcade game doesn't loop forever, so when it reaches the limits of its capacity, the player dies for no apparent reason... GAME OVER).

It may seem strange to think of a lone man bathed in the glowing lights of an arcade game as a hero or a great competitor - but I promise you that this story will make you laugh, cry, and even think!  You should also know that the rights to create a fictionalized version of the documentary have already been sold.  That's how good it is; if you can imagine Dodgeball being based on a true story, where the characters are based on real people, this movie would be akin to that precursory tale.

I can't recommend this movie enough.  I plan to see it again on opening night (it starts this Friday at the IFC center and AMC Empire Times Square in New York, and opens nationally next week), and I also plan to start working once more on my own mad DK skillz... 

Weeks and weeks into this Summer of Disappointing Movies, we have finally unearthed a decent gem of a film.  This is the one you take a date to; especially if your significant other wears an ankh or has a Death (the D.C. comic character) tattoo somewhere or owns all the Sandman graphic novels.  Paramount Pictures has graciously brought the fairy tale back to the screen, with a quality not seen since The Princess Bride.  Forget Narnia, Terabithia, and Hogwart's - it's all about Stormhold and the fallen star.

Like all good fairy tales, this story has a bit of everything:  eternal love, dark deeds, merciless witches, wicked royalty, inescapable destiny, and a happily ever after.  The best news is that at no point does it descend into platitudes or condescension; it simply is what it is, a fable about love and adventure.  There are many inventive little twists which are no doubt the product of acclaimed writer Neil Gaiman (who has always had a knack for telling old stories in a new way) - but having not read the graphic novel or paperback novelization, I can't say for sure how well the movie was adapted from its original forms.  I rather think that it doesn't matter a whit, as the movie is a joyful romp filled with great dialogue, fun action, and light humor.

It will be an excellent movie for kids, if parents don't overly worry about a couple of very mildly violent scenes - any injury is practically cartoon level mayhem, and "real" blood and gore is never even visibly spilled.  Honestly, any Harry Potter movie is quite a bit scarier than this flick, and it emphasizes the importance of true love above all things.  Its light-hearted tone, brave heroics, bad-guy-comeuppance, and comic relief make it perfect for younger audiences.

The only drawbacks are the mediocre performances of Claire Danes and Charlie Cox.  Charlie is a bit too dweeby and wooden, though he almost accidentally turns into Orlando Bloom towards the end of the film.  All of which fits the character to a T, yet, like good Chinese food, he still somehow leaves you feeling a bit empty a short while after consumption.  Claire just plain needed to lose the fake British accent, or get a better voice coach.  It unfortunately tainted her earnest words with cheesiness, making an unintended self-mockery of her character.

Michelle Pfeiffer is in rare form as a villainous witch who continuously undoes her plans by way of her own vanity and laziness, wasting her finite magical power in pursuit of the additional power the fallen star can give her.  She is every bit Maleficient and wicked stepmother, leering at herself in mirrors and haughtily punishing anyone who stands in her way.  Robert De Niro also shines as an air pirate with secret ambitions, and Ricky Gervais has an all too brief comedic cameo.

Most surprising of all is that this great fare comes from Matthew Vaughn, he who brought us Layer Cake (director and producer), Snatch, and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (producer on both).  Fairy Tale is quite a bit of a departure from the hyperkinetic crime genre, but perhaps in another sense they're more closely related than one would think.

Go see this flick!  Give Neil Gaiman your money, and tell Paramount to keep making more like this one!