Hello again world. I'm glad to see you were so entertained by yesterdays post that you decided to come back. Just in case a readership of any kind, individual, or communal actually exists, and didn't read yesterdays post, this is entry number 2 in my weekly movie blog, "Five a Week." Over the weekend, I went to the movies with my good buddy Teddy, and we saw Knowing (2009). You may ask why exactly we felt in necessary to watch a film that was so clearly a piece of shit, and the reason is this; Every Saturday, Teddy and I head to the local theater to watch "the shittiest movie of the week." The criteria for this choice has shifted in some special weeks, but is still most firmly grounded in the expectation we have being low enough to be impressed by the film in the end. The tradition started about a year ago with 21 (2008), a film about card counting in Vegas, and has most recently been struggling to recover from the temporary high of oscar season. To further explain the outlandish appeal of this tradition, I will break it down as simply as I can; We go to the movies to see "popcorn cinema." To us, that usually means films that are either unintentionally funny due to poor quality, or films that are just generally entertaining based on big budget film principles (action, explosions, nudity, sex, anything to do with batman, etc.) This weeks Nicolas Cage vehicle stood as our second this year, as we had already marveled at the receding hairline he displayed so well in the sinister, but unfortunately named, Bangkok Dangerous (2008). We assumed that the general reaction to his assasin hairstyle was probably so appalling, he would insist on something better for his next picture. I guess someone didn't get the memo though because Nic just shortened the back and shaved off his sideburns completely, creating some sort strange birds next of hair on his head. That
having been said, the film itself was almost too strange to be properly criticized. The set-up led us to a dubious payoff, involving some sort of combination of alien/catholic imagery combined with a special effects show belonging to a film like Armageddon (1998). While I will admit that certain moments in the film were unsettling, and even a little scary, the movie itself just never gave me anything close to what I was expecting to watch. I wanted to see The Day After Tomorrow (2004), but ended up watching A.I. (2001), meets Children of The Corn (1984), directed by Michael Bay or something. The director, Alex Proyas, has done a couple of interesting films in the past, so the abstract nature of the story isn't totally unpredictable, just marketed poorly. Also, Cage turns in yet another completely cardboard action star performance, complete with all the sadness and conviction we've become accustomed to in the last 8 or so films. It's almost absurd that this man actually won an oscar the first time he was ever nominated. I don't doubt that he still has the chops, but either he owes somebody a great deal of money, or his agent is addicted to smack, because nobody can take so many poor projects back to back. Let's look back to Mike Figgis' oscar winning portrait of an alcoholic on his way to the grave to really understand how far Mr. Cage has truly fallen. Until this film, Cage was still considered to be a darling of Hollywood, doing films like Raising Arizona (1987), and Moonstruck (1987). As the nephew of legendary director, Francis Ford Coppola, Cage was even in cult classics like Rumble Fish (1983), and The Cotton Club (1984). Although he had a run of bad luck in the early 90's with some poorly made thriller's, he still gave the performance of his life in 1995's Leaving Las Vegas (1995). For this role, he beat out the brilliant Sean Penn for the "best male in a leading role" oscar. I just watched the film as part of my 5 films this week, and for the sake of practice, I will review it for you (or just me if no-one is there).I believe that like so many other films, Leaving Las Vegas was praised as an oscar worthy film, based solely on the strength of the actors involved. Recently, Doubt (2008) did the same thing, and although it was largely uncelebrated at the oscars, David Mamet's Glengarry Glenross (1992), may be the most famous example in recent years. When reviewed as a complete piece of art, Las Vegas is really a sup-par film, as the only engrossing elements are Nicolas Cage's tragically hilarious alcoholic, and Elizabeth Shue's less entertaining, but still very truthful portrayal of a prostitute. The films narrative tries to seem very personal, as you are with these two in their very endearing, and emotionally intimate relationship whole film. Figgis tries to bring you in even closer as he has Shue's character talk to the camera as if it were an attentive therapist, attempting to give a very candid tone to the film. Ultimately though, when deviating from Cage, the film slows down, and becomes dark and depressing, instead of charming and sincere. The outcome of the characters fates are shown to us right at the beginning of the film, but nonetheless, you keep hoping for a different resolution, as the harrowing honesty shown to us by Cage is so endearing it almost has us forget the vile nature of men consumed by a substance. The films in your face depiction of an addict past the point of recovery is stirring and probably very real to a great number of people familiar to the subject. The small sub-plot at the beginning feels cliche' and out of place, but is quickly forgotten, as it only really serves as a means to advance the story. The standout quality that Nicolas Cage shows here is so unique, that he has seldom if ever performed on this level again. Charlie Kaufman's Adaptation (2002) was Cage's only other oscar nomination, and deservedly so, as when Cage is at the top of his game, he stands alone as a symbol of humorous dysfunction. I only wish he'd stop making trashy action flicks and styling his hair, and return to his place as Hollywood's most successful character actor, turned leading man.
No comments:
Post a Comment