Showing posts with label Pete Postlethwaite. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pete Postlethwaite. Show all posts

October 3, 2020

The Town.


Review #1554: The Town.

Cast: 
Ben Affleck (Douglas "Doug" MacRay), Rebecca Hall (Claire Keesey), Jon Hamm (FBI Special Agent Adam Frawley), Jeremy Renner (James "Jem" Coughlin), Blake Lively (Krista "Kris" Coughlin), Chris Cooper (Stephen MacRay), Pete Postlethwaite (Fergus "Fergie" Colm), Slaine (Albert "Gloansy" MacGloan), Owen Burke (Desmond "Dez" Elden), and Titus Welliver (Officer Dino Ciampa) Directed by Ben Affleck.

Review: 
"It was concealing a character-based drama centered around themes that I was interested in, particularly the theme of children paying for the sins of their parents...But wrapping that in the sort of candy shell of a heist movie."

There is always room for another actor to find additional calling in directing, particularly if they have the instinct to accomplish it well. Ben Affleck (born in Berkeley, California but raised in Cambridge, Massachusetts) had started in acting since he was a child with television such as The Voyage of the Mimi (1984) before eventually moving on to search for work after high school in film (initially with small roles before his first lead role in Glory Daze in 1995). His prominent moment came at the age of 25, where he co-wrote and co-starred with Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting (1997, which resulted in his first of two Academy Awards). The years that followed resulted in a varying quality of films, but he moved on to directing with Gone Baby Gone (2007, which he also co-wrote), which led to fair notice. It is adapted from the 2004 novel Prince of Thieves written by Chuck Hogan (born in Massachusetts that based his story upon the dubious reputation of the neighborhood of Charlestown), which was adapted to the screen by Affleck, Peter Craig, and Aaron Stockard. After a few years of shuffling in development struggle (including a failed attempt to have Adrian Lyne to direct and Hogan to write a script for), Affleck found himself attached to star and direct. He was attracted to its similar to Gone, Baby, Gone in how he could use its structure of the story alongside its characters and dialogue that could inspire him to add on to it for a film adaptation. This naturally led to research being done within the region alongside consultation with the FBI and actual bank robbers, with Affleck finding his note-taking of the latter particularly fascinating. It should be noted that there exists three versions of the film - the theatrical version, which runs at 124 minutes (as per request by the studio), and an extended cut that runs at 153 minutes, alongside with a 154 minute version that has an ending more faithful to the novel (which is more darker; I picked the original cut because that seemed like the right one to pick).

What we have is a film wrapped entirely in Boston that might as well be summed up by its opening quote involving pride in one's city despite it ruining their life - one could almost think of it as Affleck's attempt to make a city crime movie in the style of Mean Streets (1973), although Affleck has cited influences being films in the crime genre like Heat (1995) and The Departed (2006). It is a fine film building on delivering a heist and drama worth investing some time with, headlined by a usefully-crafted ensemble cast and some usefully crafted action sequences that make a worthwhile sophomore effort from Affleck. For a film that builds itself on part-heist/part-human interest, Affleck handles acting/directing just fine, displaying range in getting what he needs from his fellow actors while displaying wavering charm in directing himself that works most of its points of finding oneself apart from what was and instead trying to look somewhere else for satisfaction in life. Hall does fine in going along with Affleck in unassuming prevalence that does fine with the occasional task needed that makes decent chemistry with Affleck. Hamm has something of interest to do in terms of authority and pursuit, which he handles alright in terms of terse usefulness in that segmented time needed. Renner outshines the others in terms of hardened edge and menace that drives the film in various scenes that can be as simple as entering in a lunch conversation with Affleck and Hall. Lively does alright when quivering against Affleck, while Cooper and Postlethwaite (in his penultimate role before his death in 2011) each do well in momentary scenes involving wat it means to wrapped in a web of crime. On the whole, I liked the film in what it manages to accomplish in its heist aspects mixed in with its attempts at looking at life beyond the score that lend itself to some useful points of interest without being too wrapped up in cliché. It's a nice movie, honing itself with some realism and atmosphere for a useful film to start off another decade of heist drama cinema.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

And now, the list for the final decade of focus this year. The decade will start and end with new directors to make their first spotlight moment, which includes a few notable films for the decade we just left along with some other ones to highlight that I hope you enjoy.

August 20, 2020

The Usual Suspects.


Review #1508: The Usual Suspects.

Cast: 
Stephen Baldwin (Michael McManus), Gabriel Byrne (Dean Keaton), Benicio del Toro (Fred Fenster), Kevin Pollak (Todd Hockney), Kevin Spacey (Roger "Verbal" Kint), Chazz Palminteri (Dave Kujan), Pete Postlethwaite (Kobayashi), Suzy Amis (Edie Finneran), Giancarlo Esposito (Jack Baer), and Dan Hedaya (Sergeant Jeff Rabin) Produced and Directed by Bryan Singer (#008 - X-Men, #010 - X2, #584 - X-Men: Days of Future Past, and #1077 - Superman Returns)

Review: 
"I believe that as a writer and a director, you're only providing the skeleton of a character, and you're hiring actors to fill it out."

It's easy to make a film people remember when you have assembled a script worth thinking about. Christopher McQuarrie spent his first few years out of high school (spent with classmate Singer) doing some traveling and work in a boarding school and a detective agency. His first foray into film came with Public Access (which he co-wrote with Singer) in 1993, which he co-wrote with Singer and Michael Feit Dougan. The film did win some attention from critics (such as with the Sundance Film Festival), but it ultimately did not find much of an audience to play to. The thing that sparked interest in writing the film came about from seeing a title of a Spy magazine column that was "The Usual Suspects" (which also happens to be a classic line from Casablanca), and a casual conversation about doing a film with that title led later on to Singer asking if he could write a film for him with that in mind (since there was interest by investors interested in their last work for a $3 million project). McQuarrie, working at a law firm at the time, found inspiration in a small white room that looked like one used for interrogation, with this springing to mind a character who talks too much; names for some of the characters would come from stuff revolving around McQuarrie in his workplace, such as the interrogator (named for a office manager at the firm) and even Keyser Söze (although the last name was changed from real life).

The most interesting parts of the film involve those little moments of interaction between the core cast that we follow along with in its story, more so in the first half than the second. It is Byrne who we gravitate to in terms of interest, one who just grabs at you with a flickering intensity that certain inspires a certain kind of imagination as to what he really is, since he is the figure we see in the midst of events that had started the film anyway. Baldwin follows along with useful pacing that is quick on the trigger in high-temperedness. Del Toro does fine with a share of eccentricity that lends curiosity for what really seems to be a plain character on paper. Pollak proves worthy of a few cheeky smiles in short fused-temperament, while Palminteri proves a worthy one to contrast against the core group of seediness with coarse charm. Spacey is the key to plenty in the film, since he is the one we are listening to and viewing within the background of the perspective, and he does a fairly decent job in unassuming nature, useful to the film is what it shows without seeming like an extra presence, verbalizing himself with effective weaving.

You know those movies that people say they would like for you to see in how it plays out? There are some films that people can really, really get into, ones that can lend plenty of discussion for how something "just works", something far more than what one could assume from a noir mystery and so on and so on. Honestly, the one sticking point for me when it comes to this film is that I wish it was better than I expected. What was there to expect? The climax at the end isn't exactly spoiler-free from pop culture, but it generally does help to not read too much into an ending for a film before you watch it anyway (look, either Keyser Söze will be revealed to us in the end as either someone already established or he won't be at all, it isn't exactly more than a binary choice). The film relies on this twist because of its perspective that it wants to tell within its confines of a story that perhaps works for numerous viewings, one might say (it has been described as Double Indemnity meets Rashomon). Well, that doesn't really work if you don't find its shaggy dog kind of storytelling that particularly highly to begin with, a big trick to play on the audiences. The cast ultimately plays into part of how this film falls into what I like to call the "five stages of movie classic disappointment" (in which one does when they are faced with a movie people like but you don't, which obviously differs from the inverse of normal movie disappointment, namely in paragraphs). In this never-tested method, they would represent denial, in that I am believing that because they do pretty well, I cling to the idea that this really will be a great film. Anger (or in this case, frustration, because who really gets mad at being tricked by a film?) presumably kicks in right around when the story starts to teeter a bit too long in making me keep caring to the inevitable stop. Bargaining comes around in the whiny voice of consciousness that argues that wants me to compromise (in other words, not just immediately say this film isn't quite right without a little bit of digging) and think of it as "good, but not quite perfect" because maybe the climax really will prove itself. This leads to that fourth stage of depression (disappointment), where I just sit through the motions of how it really chooses to go the way it goes and sighing all the way, with that fifth stage standing right there practically mocking me when I finish that last train of thought.

This isn't to say I hated the film, because I actually did find it okay in making a fair piece of curiosity with a few highlights within conventional folks made fair through the actors (such as the scene where they all have to say a line in a police lineup), but in my view its magic trick leaves me feeling indifferent rather than astonishment. Pull that tablecloth from under the table all you want, but that doesn't make it a cool trick if I can see the way you "did it" coming.  Conventional can seem old hat and tired, but you know what was better in its portrayal of details and chase in the same year that this came out? Coincidence or not, that film is Seven (1995), which also happened to feature Spacey in a key role. Why stop there? Why not just chuck along a better film in dealing with stringed-together storytelling in Reservoir Dogs (1992)? Look, sometimes a film just doesn't have the reaching power it thinks it does, and that just falls to the perspective of the person who just saw it, and I just thought it was okay. I can understand the accolades and praise it received from certain audiences (which included an Academy Award for its screenplay, beating films of that year such as Braveheart and Toy Story) while also reaching the final stage of movie-classic-disappointment-grief: Acceptance that it just isn't completely what I think of when I think of a classic, and I move on to the next one.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.