Criticism, Movies

‘Only Lovers Left Alive’ Delivers Eternal Love, Not Teen-Vamp Infatuation

No Comments 17 August 2014

To bite alone, or jointly....Nosferatu

To bite alone, or jointly….Nosferatu

Jim Jarmusch’s vampire romance about night-owls-in-love Adam (Tom Hiddleston) and Eve (Tilda Swinton) plants a stake in the heart of the popular “Twilight” teen-movie fantasy franchise. I can’t be the only moviegoer alive still left irritated by the notion that any being who had seen as much of the world as Robert Pattinson’s twinkly Edward Cullen, born back in 1901, would stick around for pre-calculus, “The Scarlet Letter,” and cafeteria flirtations with twitchy Bella Swan (Kirsten Stewart).

In “Only Lovers Left Alive,” hipster filmmaker Jarmusch (“Down by Law,” “Broken Flowers”) wonders what perfect love would be like if it spanned not years or decades but centuries. Well, first, the couple would be vampires, which makes for an intriguing premise — and not one that needs “Twilight” for inspiration when there’s already “Nosferatu,” “Let the Right One In,” and all that Hammer horror in the vaults.

[RELATED: My Personal Favorite at TIFF13: Jim Jarmusch's 'Only Lovers Left Alive']

And so the nocturnal Jarmusch, 61, who has never seen “Twilight,” delivers a very personal long-distance love story, which could probably be interpreted as a note to his long-time partner, Sara Driver, 58. The pair met at film school at NYU and she produced Jarmusch’s early masterpiece, “Stranger Than Paradise,” in 1984, and they’re still together today. In show business coupling, that’s an eternity.

The couple’s on-screen alter-egos, Adam and Eve, give each other emotional space – that key ingredient to lasting love — by living worlds apart. Adam resides in “Omega Man” seclusion in Detroit; Eve lives in the literary Tangier romanticized by Paul Bowles. Still, through the wonders of 21st century technology, Adam and Eve can keep in touch – and when Eve senses her man’s emotional distress, she grabs her blood stash and hops the redeye for a reunion.

[RELATED: TIFF13 Q&A: Tom Hiddleston and Mia Wasikowska Open Up]

Once together, Adam and Eve fall into well-worn patterns. She nurses back his will to create — because for Jarmusch, creativity is life — and gets Adam out of the house for a change. Back at his place, they listen to music and entwine around each other like beautifully decadent figures in a Klimt painting. Together they weather the arrival of her disruptive and destructive sister (Mia Wasikowska) — what couple hasn’t handled the trials of unwanted in-law houseguests, even if they don’t all bite the help?

Deep into the night, the pair takes a long moonlit drive through the urban ruins of Detroit. They are like Sunday drivers sharing a day out together in tandem peace. Adam and Eve have achieved that calm after the storm. They have long passed the early throes of passion, the distractions of jealousy and infidelity that animates “Twilight” and keeps Bella’s human heart fluttering like hummingbird wings.

And, when the couple’s blood supply dwindles, Eve whisks Adam to Morocco. In the movie’s climax — no spoilers here — we see what long-term couples know. That the efforts to shield one’s partner from danger can inspire superhuman actions. To protect the beloved’s existence, one also ensures one’s own survival.

Now that’s a marriage lesson for you.

THR’s Critic Todd McCarthy archly, and aptly, described the movie as “‘The Thin Man’ with blood cocktails.” He’s comparing Adam and Eve to Nick and Nora Charles. While this supernatural pair is edgier than Nick and Nora, those icons of boozy wedded bliss, they’re no less engaging — or well-matched.

In “Only Lovers Left Alive,” Jarmusch’s moody hero depends on a more-grounded spouse. She offers a mirror for his soul when he casts no reflection. Eve sees Adam for who he really is, warts, fangs and all, and still loves him.

It’s a vision developed not over a semester but over centuries.

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Criticism, Movies

Must-Stream: Snag Films’ troubling doc ‘Lost for Life’

No Comments 28 July 2014

Whatever you think about life without parole for minors who murder — and you may not have even considered the issue — Joshua Rofe’s engaging documentary Lost For Life will challenge your preconceptions. If first met the director at the Middleburg Film Festival last October.

Immediately after watching the film last October I wrote: “One notable nonfiction feature was Snag Films’ “Lost for Life.” Director Joshua Rofé has created a tight, extremely well-researched documentary that addresses juvenile offenders with a record of heinous crimes sentenced to life without parole — hence they are lost, for life. The movie allows the audience to have an internal debate about the justice of this irrevocable sentence for juvenile offenders. But its power lies in the director’s ability to get up close and pull the truth from his subjects, like one man now in his twenties who killed a fellow high school student with almost no motive and no previous indications of violent behavior. The result is a movie that is both shocking and revealing about the American justice system and the children in our midst.”

Currently available via iTunes, here’s the most recent trailer released by Snag Films:

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Criticism, Movies

DVD Review: ‘Winter’s Tale’

No Comments 24 June 2014

Don't hate me because I have a bad haircut: Colin Farrell and Jessica Brown Findlay (Warner Brothers)

Don’t hate me because I have a bad haircut: Colin Farrell and Jessica Brown Findlay (Warner Brothers)

We all have those movies that everybody seems to hate but we love — and now that “Winter’s Tale” is out on video, isn’t it worth a second look? Here’s what I had to say when the romantic fantasy came out theatrically:

“Winter’s Tale” will never be confused with “Nymphomania.” There is nothing hip, or shocking, or cutting edge about it. There is not one sex scene where you wonder: how did they film that, much less how did they do that?

Still, for a snow-slammed Valentine’s Day (on the East Coast at least), what could be better than escaping to the theater and falling for Colin Farrell? Or “Downton Abbey” beauty Jessica Brown Findlay, who played the littlest sister that took up with the chauffeur for love.

At the movie’s dynamic opening sequence set in Gilded Age New York, there is a confusing moment (some would and have said it is all confusing) when Colin Farrell’s Peter Lake hops on an enormous white horse. In a single bound, hero and beast escape the brutal Pearly Soames (a snarly, scarf aced Russell Crowe) and his henchmen by flying over an impossibly high iron fence.

The key to enjoying “Winter’s Tale” is making that leap into fantasy with Lake. The love story, directed by Akiva Goldsman, from his adaptation of Mark Helprin’s novel, is a time-bending action romance with production and costume design as rich as Godiva Chocolates.

Lake’s thief carries a Dickensian backstory. Soames plucked the immigrant orphan off the cobble-stoned streets. He mentored the lad until Lake grew into New York’s best burglar. It’s a hard-knock life.

But, now, Lake wants out, inspiring his mentor’s wrathy wrath. In a one-last-job plot twist, Lake burgles a Central Park West mansion on the way out of Dodge. He thinks it’s vacant, but encounters its sole remaining resident, Beverly Penn (Brown Findlay). The pre-Raphaelite beauty has just a touch of a very deadly, wasting fever. Just a touch, but definitely terminal.

Romance ensues (ill-fated, of course), just as surely as Soames’ relentless vengeance.

Farrell rarely gets to be this unabashedly romantic. Even as the drunken father (and title character) in “Saving Mr. Banks,” he sweated charm in an overlooked supporting performance. Not only is he easy on the eyes, but he’s a self-effacing and good-natured romantic hero. He holds the swagger – and leaves all that macho stuff to Crowe.

Crowe, the lead in “A Beautiful Mind,” meets up with “I, Robot” star Will Smith for a Goldsman reunion where they both break bad. There’s a trippy interplay between Soames — he’s not just bad, he’s demonic — and his supervisor, Judge (Smith), a.k.a. Beelzebub. If you can go with the white horse’s leap, you can cope with the loose-limbed black magical meeting of Smith and Crowe.

Devilishly lush, with jaw-dropping set pieces and a fantastic supporting cast, “Winter’s Tale” mixes action, fantasy and romance for a less cynical time. Remember: Critics didn’t like the similarly PG-13 romantic fantasy “The Time Traveler’s Wife,” either, or have much good to say about all those Nicholas Sparks movies. Follow your heart. Or follow Farrell.

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Books, Criticism

Book Review: ‘Midnight in Europe’ by Alan Furst

No Comments 21 June 2014

Midnight in Europe: A NovelMidnight in Europe: A Novel by Alan Furst

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Has Alan Furst spoiled me for Alan Furst? He remains one of my favorite authors of historical espionage. I pre-buy every new volume, although his last book, “Mission to Paris,” about a Hollywood actor spying in Europe was the least satisfying. In “Midnight in Europe,” the research is impeccable. The prose pristine. The psychological insight astute. The women characters intrigue; the protagonist wise and complicated.

Again we have a chapter from the WWII playbook, a slice that evokes the whole: a sophisticated Spanish-born lawyer living in Paris moonlights in the arms trade in service of the Spanish Republic in 1938. While we know that Franco’s fascists won this battle, and that the Nazi’s will rise even further in the coming years, Furst builds suspense in the way that small acts of courage build to impact large strategic movements — or fall by the wayside in futility.

Still, the romantic underpinnings of this particular volume — between the lawyer and a mysterious Marquesa, and a Manhattan library worker — seems particularly forced, as if even Furst had tired of creating these couplings. And that could be because I know Furst too well, and found this book a less compelling read than “The Polish Officer,” “Red Gold,” or “Night Soldiers.” Maybe I am ready for Furst to reach back to his Eric Ambler roots and go darker, quirkier, even as his elegant novels gain wider recognition within the literary mainstream.



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Books, Criticism

Book Review: David Downing’s ‘Jack of Spies’

No Comments 07 June 2014

Jack of SpiesJack of Spies by David Downing

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Sometimes I worry that all my reviews are positive and that will seem phony. The truth of the matter is that I’m very picky about what I read, and tend not to write about those things that I do not like. But two things drew me to Downing’s latest novel: that Soho Press published it, and that the Washington Post said of his work: “In the elite company of literary spy masters Alan Furst and Philip Kerr.”

The problem with that review is overpraise. Furst is absolutely one of my favorite authors, not only because he teaches me, through his own extensive research, about the activities in the shadows during WWII, but also because his characters are so psychologically rich. He truly carries on the tradition of Eric Ambler and “A Coffin for Dimitrios.” If anything, Furst can sometimes be a little too romantic. And his female characters are complex and complicated.

But it’s not fair to spend this space over-talking about Furst (and I could go on about Kerr, too). Downing’s book — set before WW1 and hooked to a Scottish-born British spy — is well-researched but unmoving. There are times when the dialog is just an information infusion — these are not people talking but exposition donkeys.

The central romantic relationship between the ambiguous hero, Jack McColl, and an insufferably modern Irish-American journalist suffragette, left me cold. They had sex, and sex again, in hotels and on board trains and ships, but never seem to use protection — and talk the most nonsense politics.

Furst and Kerr drew me to try this author, with a nod from the Washington Post, but the comparison only reinforces how much more brilliant those authors are, weaving historical details into rich, psychologically complex and ultimately satisfying fiction. (Furst even more than Kerr.) I am always looking for authors of their caliber — and often, I must go back in time to Ambler and those still undiscovered writers, rather than contemporary authors like the tepid Downing.




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