Misery

All the ideas behind Stephen King’s Misery terrify me.  Driving in a blizzard, flipping the car, breaking bones and possibly losing a manuscript is bad enough.  But being saved and dependant on an emotionally unstable woman with unlimited medications is scary.  Her holding Paul captive, destroying his best work and forcing him to write for her is pure torture.

Paul (James Caan) is a novelist, famous for his series of romantic novels about a young woman named Misery.  He hates those novels and is putting them in the past, ready to write for himself now.  However, Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates), his savior from the blizzard, nurse to his shattered legs and complete caregiver, is Paul’s number one fan and loves his Misery novels.  She even named her big hairy pig Misery.  When she discovers Paul’s new manuscript, she becomes furious that it’s nothing like the Misery stories.  With the sympathy of a disappointed mother and the control of a madwoman, she forces Paul to destroy it and write a new Misery novel.  Paul has no choice since he is helpless, unable to walk, dependant on Annie’s care and has no way to escape.

Kathy Bates’ Annie is one of the scariest women I’ve ever seen in film, and it earned her an Oscar.  Watching her is like watching a volcano, never knowing when it will erupt.  One minute, she seems friendly, helpful even loving to Paul.  Then, in an instant, her mood explodes into rage.  These moment shook me more than I was prepared for.  In these moments, Annie goes from plain and creepy and seems to lose herself in her crazed rage.  The camera keeps low and zooms in on her face slowly, her eyes seem glazed and unfocused as all the muscles in her face rant.  I love how even in her more docile moments, she can look like a lazy-eyed shark: ugly, even stupid, but still menacing.  Even in her laced collar dress, she is still so menacing.

That might be one of my favorite scenes in the movie, when Paul and Annie have dinner together.  It’s a part of Paul’s plan to drug Annie and escape.  He has been meticulously saving his medication and finally found the occasion.  Of course, Annie is bowled over and giddy about the idea of sharing a special meal with Paul.  I’m sure she feels like a lady in that frumpy dress, just as I’m sure Paul despises every moment he has to spend sucking up to her.  When the moment Paul sees his chance to drug Annie, we hold our breath thinking it’s too good to be true.  I nearly cried when Paul’s plan was ruined by Annie just being a clumsy oaf.

What makes Paul work so well is that we are completely on his side. No one wants Annie to win.  Our spirits are crushed when any of Paul’s plans goes amiss.  Throughout the film, I kept wondering what else can Paul do?  From what I could come up with, he’s been very brave and done all he could against his captor.  And for a middle aged guy confined to a bed, he’s charming, with a sharp mind.  His sense of wit and humor help defend him from Annie and keep him alive.

When I think about Stephen King coming out and telling the world that Misery was inspired by his substance addictions, the ideas in film become much clearer and more terrifying.  Annie is a personification of his addictions, nursing him, bringing him relief from the pain, but keeping him captive and isolated from the world.  To break free is next to impossible, frightening and could kill him.  Annie as a character is intriguing enough, but as a personal taboo issue King was battling within while writing the novel brings both the novel and film to a whole new level.

Misery is a great movie about something as simple as being captive and powerless.  At first glance, this seems like an odd film for Rob Reiner to direct, especially right after When Harry Met Sally, but he does a fantastic job of keeping the tension tight.  Best of all, he focuses on the relationship between Paul and Annie, which is all you really need to keep the story moving forward.  The small side plot where the local sheriff trying to find Paul just smooths out the rest of the world.  From start to finish, there are plenty of tense moments in fear of Annie that keep us at the edge of our seats.  And the unforgettable sledgehammer scene is one of the most painful moments in film for audiences to watch.

“I am your number one fan.  There is nothing to worry about.  You are going to be just fine.  I am your number one fan.”

Rachel Getting Married

Often times, films about family tensions skirt around the main issue.  Here, Kym (Anne Hathaway) is the issue, and she knows it all too well.  She always feels the eyes upon her, judging and keeping a safe distance.  It’s enough to drive anyone mad and the bravest, and worst thing she can do is acknowledge everything that everyone is already thinking.

Kym has a sketchy and tragic history with drug and alcohol abuse since she was a teenager.  She is allowed enough time out of rehab to attend her sister Rachel’s wedding festivities for the weekend.  Little by little throughout the film, we understand more and more about how her addiction has affected her family.  Bringing up these painful memories only diminishes the spotlight and happiness that Rachel feels she is well overdue to deserve.  All the resentment that Kym feels toward her doesn’t make her recovery any easier.

The family home is busy, filled with busy people excited about Rachel’s wedding.  Like the natural light shining in through most of the film, there is a happy sense of family here.  Kym feels it and enjoys it, but seems to be afraid she will only ruin it.  Her first scene with Rachel shows mix perfectly.  They are obviously sisters with love and memories to share, but always some tension.

At first, we may not think Kym is making a real effort to put her life back together.  She hopes to have some alone time at her family’s home and attends an AA meeting not long after arriving, but does not speak up.  After the rehearsal dinner, she hooks up with the best man (Mather Zickel), who was also at the meeting.  Later in the film, however, she opens up more, more than she probably has in years.  The old wounds we watch her open up are heart wrenchingly painful, but only after everything has been put out in the open can forgiveness have a chance.

Part of what makes Hathaway’s performance worth of Oscar nomination is the uncomfortably honest way she portrays Kym.  She blatently brings up the way everyone is walking on eggshells around her, as well as her assumption that she would be her sister’s maid of honor.  We get the sense that she is self centered, but if she isn’t honest with her family now, then when?

One of Hathaway’s best scenes is her speech at the rehearsal dinner.  It seems everyone is giving a speech but her, and she seems to grab the nearest microphone to cut in.  Repeatedly in her speech, she references her problems, sometimes with too much detail.  She fumbles and isn’t very classy here.  We’re embarrassed for her just watching, but she continues so she can make her apologies.  Kym isn’t very good at it, but at least she’s trying.  If only Rachel could understand that.

While Hathaway is the obvious star, many of the actors provide beautiful and stirring roles.  Bill Irwin’s father role shows how stretched thin he is between both daughters, but still loves Kym no matter what.  Rosemarie DeWitt’s Rachel is a tense balance between happily stressed bride and struggling with her sisterly love.  And Debra Winger as Kym and Rachel’s mother has a very bold scene I did not expect.

Rachel Getting Married is a stirring, well written film about family tensions that may not sit well for all audiences.  Such high tensions piling up right before a wedding with no laughter in sight may make this a tough film to swallow for some.  The frequent use of handheld cameras give it a lackluster indie feel, but Johnathan Demme’s direction makes it work.  And though I enjoyed the happy mix of cultures, I couldn’t help but wonder where the Indian influences for the wedding ceremony came from; Rachel seems like a very white girl and her fiance an average black man.  Nonetheless, Rachel Getting Married is a surprisingly great film, filled with tension and heartache.  That’s just how it is on the road to recovery.

“I can live with it, but I can’t forgive myself.  And sometimes I don’t want to believe in a God that could forgive me.”

Meryl Streep – The Iron Lady

In previews, The Iron Lady surely looked Best Picture bound.  A biopic about Margaret Thatcher starring Meryl Streep seemed like a shoo-in.  However, between some odd editing choices and perhaps too much focus on Thatcher’s dementia in her old age the whole film became a bit muddled.  Many will place the blame on director Phyllida Lloyd, her only other film that was released to theaters was Mamma Mia!, also starring Streep.  But if you ask me, going from a happy Abba inspired musical to Thatcher biopic is extremely gutsy and to pull it off as well as she did is an accomplishment.

However, I’d like to focus on the greatest thing about The Iron Lady, Meryl Streep’s performance.  After nearly twenty years with twelve other Oscar nominations, never another win since Sophie’s Choice, this role finally brought Streep her third Oscar.  It was quite a surprise, with most critics betting on her always a bridesmaid, never the bride status and predicting Viola Davis would come out on top.  After seeing this film, I have to agree with the Academy, Streeps performance was amazing and well deserved the award.

Streep portrays Thatcher through most of her political career and into her old age.  In the present, we see Margaret shuffling about her home, remembering her past and suffering from dementia.  The worst part is that she realizes her mind is going.  She regularly imagines her late husband around, talking to her, carrying on conversations and bringing up memories of their life together.  Her present is a bit sad when we think about the game changing, strong and powerful world leader she once was.

In flashbacks, we gets a sense of Thatcher’s struggles and political rise.  For a while, it seems that being a woman is a handicap Thatcher must work to overcome.  A scene where a vocal coach teaches her to naturally lower her voice feels like it could have been inspired by similar scenes in The King’s Speech.  Over the years, she seems to transform from strong willed British housewife to the tough as nails woman, making difficult decisions for her country without batting an eyelash.

In one scene, Thatcher is preparing for an occasion of some sort and has a seamstress sewing on a button at the last minute, right over her bosom leaving it much more exposed than usual.  While that is being taken care of, she carries on an argument with two of her political advisers.  She never misses a beat, stays particularly strong and stands her ground with confidence.  The whole time, it’s as if she were a man having a button sewn on his jacket having this conversation.  She doesn’t show one bit of female frailty or shy away in such an awkward position and I think that makes her one hell of a powerful lady.

“We will stand on principle… or we will not stand at all.”

Melissa McCarthy – Bridesmaids

Bridesmaids was easily one of the funniest films of 2011 and surprisingly well done all around.  It has earned Oscar nominations in Original Screenplay and for Mellisa McCarthy’s performance.  However, some people feel inclined to count McCarthy out of the acting race because her role is on a different level than the other nominees.  As a fellow tomboy and former bridesmaid, I feel compelled to defend Melissa McCarthy’s Supporting Actress nomination.

There is much more to this role than being the chubby, gross-out queen of the bridesmaids.  Megan is the sister of the groom, so she already does not quite fit in with the rest of the girl-friends.  I feel there would be a level of guilt if the bride had not asked Megan to stand up in the wedding.  She seems to be the kind of girl who was always outside of the clique and isn’t as petty or catty as the rest of the group.  Thankfully, she has a strong sense of who she is already and is wonderfully confident in just being herself.  Even if that includes some weird sexual stuff, being proud of that falling off a cruise ship story and owning up to her farts.

Thing is, we see a level past the superficial with Megan that the rest of the gals do not bring.  When Annie has become the pariah of the group, Megan is the only one willing to talk to her.  And it is not the usual fake girl talk, “Oh, it’ll be alright.”  Megan gets real with Annie, while keeping to her intense, butch attitude.  “I’m life Annie, and I’m biting you in the ass!”

What Melissa McCarthy has dared to do with this role was create a unique female character that feels more genuine and memorable than anyone else in the film.  Burping, farting, having a real deal-with-it conversation is not something Hollywood shows women doing without sounding like a cure-that-feminine-itch commercial.  Even though Megan comes off immediately as gross, McCarthy can make her surprisingly refreshing.

Whether she was shitting in a sink or driving a van full of puppies, Melissa McCarthy was spot on and made me laugh until I cried.  It is nice to see an unusual comedy role get some well deserved recognition.

“I want to apologize.  I’m not even confident on which end that came out of.”

Jeff Bridges – Crazy Heart

In the spirit of honoring the Academy Awards, this review will focus on Bridges’ Oscar winning role, rather than the entire film.  This seems more appropriate for an Oscar focused blog, especially since Crazy Heart is a film driven and focused on Bridges’ performance.  In the film, Jeff Bridges plays Bad Blake, an aging, washed up, alcoholic country singer.

What many people remember most from Crazy Heart is Bridges singing and playing his the songs.  Now, I’ve listened to classic country music most of my life.  Country may be easier on the guitar, but they come so close to the heart that the singing cannot be faked.  Bridges captures this idea in his voice perfectly.  And it doesn’t matter whether he is drunk on stage or solemnly writing new songs on his porch, that country style brought on by heartache and hard times shines through as if he were channeling Hank Williams.

The most powerful things Bridges shows us about Blake are his low points.  Sure, he can remember to dedicate a song to people he met earlier that day, but he will be too busy drunkenly vomiting outside to sing the song.  When he quietly walks out of the concert with Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell, who also sings his own numbers), who was hoping Blake would do a duet with him, we feel a mutual shame and disappointed in him.  And when he loses a child as he is trying to satisfy his thirst for whiskey, we know that things have gone too far.  The half-drunk, limping desperation Bridges brings in his frantic search in Houston is heartbreaking.

I never believed Bad Blake was really a bad person, just a man who had made some bad decisions.  Perhaps earlier in his life, Bad was more appropriate, but who we are shown is a man stuck with an old name he cannot shake.  It seems to be one of the things keeping him in his rut.  As the film progresses, his atonement for the bad decisions he made becomes more fulfilled.  If there were doubts about Blake’s good side, they are washed away.

So far, this has been Bridges’ only Oscar win.  Since 1971, in The Last Picture Show, he has been nominated by the Academy for six acting nominations, three for lead actor and three for supporting.  His most recent nomination was in 2010 for playing Rooster Cogburn in True Grit.

If I wasn’t lied to, the Oscar statue I held back when I first began this project was intended to go to the winner of Best Actor of 2009.  I’m sure my fingerprints, along with countless others, were wiped clean before the ceremony, but it is still fun to think that I got to hold Jeff Bridges’ Oscar back when I was just hoping that it would go to him.

“Ain’t rememberin’ wonderful?”