The Trial of the Chicago 7

Aaron Sorkin’s The Trial of the Chicago 7 is a compelling courtroom drama depicting the infamous trial of seven defendants charged with inciting a riot, conspiracy and other charges relating to their counter-culture movement and anti-Vietnam war protests. In 1968 a large protest took place in Chicago during the Democratic National Convention. It was led and attended by a variety of people, from young democrats to hippies. Permits for the protests were requested but not given. Undercover Chicago police gained the trust of a few of the protest leaders, in an attempt to infiltrate the protest. Eventually, violence broke out. 

In the film, the trial itself is infuriating, mostly due to the apathetic Judge Julius Hoffman (Frank Langella). At first it’s almost funny, the way Judge Hoffman feels he needs to explain to the jury that he and Abbie Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) are not related in the middle of the prosecution’s opening statements. But it becomes grating how over and over, the judge refuses to listen as multiple people try to explain that William Kunstler (Mark Rylance) is not Bobby Seale’s (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) lawyer. In fact, his lawyer is not present, making the very fact that he is on trial unconstitutional. Eventually, Seale is so furious over this fact that Judge Hoffman commands “Deal with him as he should be dealt with.” Seale is dragged out of the courtroom, beaten and brought back bound and gagged. It’s only after this dehumanizing moment that Seale’s case is dismissed. And when a star witness has proof claiming that it was the police who started the riot, Judge Hoffman decides that this bit of testimony is not something that the jury needs to hear. 

What makes this film work so well is the spot-on editing. The opening montage perfectly ties together the eight (Seale included here) defendants as they individually prepare to travel to Chicago, recent news stories and Chicago preparing for the Democratic convention. Some of the best moments in the film flashback to the riot, mixed with black and white “footage” cut in between present dialogue (often courtroom testimony explaining what happened) and Abbie’s infamous storytelling/stand up on college campuses. It’s a lot happening at once, but it’s edited so well it works and really helps the audience understand all sides of the situation. 

The Trial of the Chicago 7 is nominated for six Academy Awards, including Best Picture. Sacha Baron Cohen earned his very first acting nomination for his supporting role as Abbie Hoffman. The other nominations include best cinematography, original screenplay, film editing and original song, Hear My Voice. 

There’s an uncanny similarity to the events depicted in this film and recent events. The film’s writing was not molded to fit our turbulent times, but rather we are living in a new revolutionary era and perhaps that makes this film all the more compelling. Hoffman, Hayden and the rest protested against sending young men to be slaughtered in Vietnam. Today, we protest to not be slaughtered in our own neighborhoods, either by police or this week’s mass shooter. This film serves to pay tribute to the 7 who the government attempted to make an example of only for them to become heroes to a new generation and a reminder to not let our voices be silenced.  

“We carried certain ideas across state lines. Not machine guns or drugs or little girls. Ideas. When we crossed from New York to New Jersey to Pennsylvania to Ohio to Illinois, we had certain ideas. And for that, we were gassed, beaten, arrested, and put on trial.”

Les Misérables

Those who have been reading my blog for awhile may have noticed that my tolerance and appreciation for musicals has gotten better.  I am much less likely to roll my eyes or groan in pain whenever films break into an elaborate song and dance number.  In fact, apart from awkward singing conversations, the musical aspect was one of my favorite things about Tom Hooper’s Les Misérables.

The film is a musical form of Victor Hugo’s novel that has come from page, to stage and to screen.  Hugh Jackman plays Jean Valjean, who was harshly sentenced to years as a slave for stealing bread for his sister’s child.  He breaks parole and makes a new life for himself, but always fears his real identity will send him back to prison.  Russell Crowe plays Javert, the inspector who will uphold the law dutifully and chase Valjean to no end.  Along the way Valjean’s life is touched and changed by a kind bishop, Fantine (Anne Hathaway), her daughter Cosette (Isabelle Allen as a child, Amanda Seyfried as a young woman) and the young men pushing France into revolution.

The opening longshot, beginning under water and rising up to see a tipping ship being pulled by hundreds of slaves in a storm, absolutely astounded me.  I felt my jaw literally drop and my expectations for a beautifully shot film rise.  Unfortunately, that was the visual high of the film.  I kept seeing glimpses of beautiful sets, but they were all obscured by the large singing faces that dominated the screen.

I understand how close-ups are something you just won’t get if you see a stage production of Les Misérables, so why not enjoy them in a film production?  However, it’s too much and too often.  I’m the kind of person who prefers the back of a classroom so I can see all my setting and I can have plenty of space between myself and those facing me.  At one point during the film, I realized I had my feet on the seat in front of me, trying to push myself back from Jackman’s singing face on the screen.  It was too much and too close for comfort.  And for those who will defend that he’s not a bad face too look at, maybe so, but I never want to be so close that I can see snot glistening in his nostril.

Despite being in their faces too much, I enjoyed all the different actors, their characters and singing talent.  Jackman’s leads the film both musically and emotionally, fitting perfectly into Valjean at the different stages in his life.  Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen are a fun swindling duo who add some much needed comic relief.  The child actors, mainly Isabelle Allen and Daniel Huttlestone, add vocal range and melt our hearts with their sad stories.  While Russell Crowe certainly isn’t the best singer in the film, he isn’t awful, as some sources led me to expect.  Besides, if any character is going to sound like he’s got a stick up his ass, it’s going to be Javert.

Anne Hathaway gives the strongest performance in the film.  Even before she is cast out into the street, she shows us what a vulnerable and fragile person Fantine is.  Her shining moment is singing I Dreamed a Dream.  The whole song is done in one continuous shot, always keeping Hathaway’s face toward us and in frame.  This moment, her singing, her face feels like an overwhelming wave of crushing despair and sorrow.  It was the one moment in the film that brought tears to my eyes and I heard a few sniffles around the theater.

Les Misérables is nominated for for eight Academy Awards.  Along with best picture, the film is competing for best sound mixing, original song, costume design, hair and makeup design and production design.  In the acting categories, Hugh Jackman is nominated for lead actor and Anne Hathaway is nominated for supporting actress.  I believe Hathaway will come home with the Oscar, but that may be the only one for Les Mis.

While Les Misérables is well done film with a beautiful soundtrack, I found the whole experience a little disappointing.  It was far too long.  I found myself checking the time only an hour into the film wondering how the last hour had lasted so long.  Unless you are really into checking out every last detail of someone’s face, the film is visually lacking.  Still, as far as epic musicals go, Les Mis is good, will draw you in emotionally, give you some engaging characters and leave you with a good tune in your head.

“Suddenly the world seems a different place, somehow full of grace and delight.”

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

I remember well the time Sweeney Todd came to theaters.  It was late 2007, my little brother was in the height of his everything Tim Butron phase and excited to see his latest film.  Naturally, I decided to take him to see it, our parents concerned about their youngest seeing his first rated R film.  I reassured them that it was R for “just a bunch of throats being sliced while singing” and we were off to the theater.  I can’t remember if afterward, my brother was still thrilled that his first rated R film was a Tim Burton musical, but I ended up liking it much more than I expected.

Now, back in 2007, I was years away from starting this project and had little respect for musicals.  I had agreed to see Sweeney Todd for two main reasons: to spend some time with my brother and I too enjoyed Tim Burton films.  Johnny Depp’s surprisingly beautiful singing, a richly dark setting, blood-spraying murder and a bit of cannibal-consumerism were just layers of delicious icing.

As Oscar nominations approached, I honestly thought Sweeney Todd had a good chance of being nominated for Best Picture.  It was like no other film that year, bold, daring, an odd sense of beauty and a musical.  Sadly, all it was only nominated for was art direction, costume design and Johnny Depp was up for lead actor.  How ironic that There Will Be Blood beat out a movie that used so much blood so beautifully.

Based off the Broadway musical, Sweeney Todd takes place in Victorian London.  Benjamin Barker, the barber, had a lovely wife and beautiful daughter, Johanna, but was sent away from them on false charges so that Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman) could be with the wife.  Fifteen years in hell later, the barber returns, only to find his wife poisoned herself and daughter has been raised by the Judge.  As a young sailor, Anthony (Jamie Campbell Bower), tries to save Johanna (Jayne Wisener) from the cage the judge keeps her in, the barber sets up shop above Mrs. Lovett’s (Helena Bonham Carter) meat pie shop.  He calls himself Sweeney Todd (Depp) and seeks revenge against the Judge.  When Todd’s plan fails and he’s sure he’s lost his chance of revenge, he turns to slicing nearly every throat that sits in his chair and supplying Miss Lovett with fresh meat for her pies.

Though this is a musical, I don’t watch the film for the songs.  In fact, I don’t find them to be the kind of songs that get stuck in your head easily; they’re not that catchy.  They’re the kind of songs in musicals that mostly expand plot slowly, add emphasis to a character’s feelings or motives or create a wonderful juxdeposition between music and inpending doom.  I love the suspense as Depp and Rickman sing “Pretty Women,” while we all wait on the edge of our seat, seeing if the next stroke of the razor will end the Judge.

What I find most engaging about Sweeney Todd is the atmosphere, the characters and the visualization of the blood.  Everything in this London is so gloomy and covered in soot.  It perfectly portrays one of my favorite lines: There’s a hole in the world like a great black pit. Most of the characters fit this description as well.  Everyone is so pale, like they haven’t seen the sun in years.  Their clothes are dark, gloomy (except for Sacha Baron Cohen’s Pirelli) and at the opposite end of festive.

The visual use of blood throughout the film is beautiful.  In the opening credits, it starts a machine, lubricates the gears with a glistening, gooey and nearly neon glowing effect and runs like a torrent through the sewer.  The red blood is the brightest color you will see in the entire film.  It appears like a phantom flash on Todd’s sleeve.  It sprays and flows multiple times like fireworks and gurgling waterfalls.  I honestly found it not disgusting, but brutally beautiful.  And I couldn’t help but thinking, this is worth an R rating?

I grew up with my father calling me into the living room in time to see the severed horse head in The Godfather.  With still beating hearts bursting into flames as Indiana Jones witnessed human sacrifice.  And a child back from the dead slicing an old man’s Achilles tendon.  A little throat slicing and blood spraying does not make me think an R rating is necessary.  But until I’m in charge of the MPAA, whole generations of Tim Burton fans may be missing out on the one musical they’ll really enjoy.

“No denying times is hard, sir.  Even harder than the worst pies in London.”

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan

The art of comedy spreads into a wide spectrum.  At one end, you can find wholesome classics like Bringing Up Baby and Charlie Chaplin films.  Down at the other end, you will find the crude, rude, and brashly satirical.  While more modern comedies find themselves at this deep end, not many can keep afloat for an audience who considers themselves mature by action, not just by age.  In my opinion, Borat is one of those strong swimmers that gets it right, even when it is so wrong.

Before everyone professes their disgust with this film, I understand that Borat is not for everyone.  To appreciate this kind of humor, you don’t have to be smart or in the loop.  Sadly, you just have to be comfortable realizing that this glorious nation of America is full of crazy, backwards thinking people who can become the perfect punchline for this movie.  By all means, if you are uncomfortable with racist jokes, sexist jokes, nudity or watching people reveal unflattering characteristics that they don’t realize will be in a movie, don’t make yourself watch Borat.

When this first hit theaters, I did not expect to be impressed by Borat.  From previews, I guessed that we would see it, laugh like idiots and make some cheesy Borat impressions for a week and be done with it.  Not only did I laugh, but I cried (mostly from laughter), got very involved in Borat’s journey and grew to love him as a person.  And the universal truths (sometimes surprising and ugly) that he captured about the people he met were just astounding.  Today, Borat has a spot on my dvd shelf, and I don’t have a sprawling collection.

What makes Borat work is the character Sacha Baron Cohen has created.  From a fictitious Kazakhstan, Borat is a sweet, well meaning young journalist who is proud of his village, his family and excited to go see America.  We are shown that ideals are very different and not at all politically correct in this Kazakhstan.  His family is very proud of his sister, the number 4 ranked prostitute in all of Kazakhstan (with a trophy!), and one of his village’s family oriented traditions is The Running of the Jew.  When he arrives in America, calling Borat a fish out of water is putting it lightly.  On the New York subways, he attempts to politely make friends, but people are hostile toward him.  Anyone who’s ever felt out of their element can sympathize with him.

His mission in America is to learn about American life to help out Kazakhstan.  As events unfold, he falls in love with Pamela Anderson after watching Baywatch and convinces his producer, Azamat (Ken Davitian), to turn this project into a road trip to California.  They’ll get a broader look at the whole country, and Borat can find a new wife.  The movie quickly becomes a mockumentry/journey filled with unforgettable real life characters who reveal more about the real America than this film could have originally envisioned.

When Oscar season rolled around for 2006, Borat was surprisingly not forgotten.  It earned a nomination for best adapted screenplay.  I still argue that Borat’s writing holds up as well as it’s jokes.  It holds a compelling narrative within its mocumentary style that lets Borat grow as a character.  And considering the film’s critical acclaim, it’s running for Best Picture was probably not far off.

The premise of Borat was a bit of candid camera, to make real people believe that this was a real documentary.  The local news segment really aired live on television, he really put his own twist on the national anthem at a rodeo (nearly inciting a riot) and a real driving instructor gave Borat a lesson, oblivious to the nature of the film.  Many of the unsuspecting characters have attempted to sue the filmmakers.

The comic genius of this film comes from showing how real people react to and interact with Borat.  We get a man in New York fleeing as Borat attempts to hug him.  A rodeo manager shares some shocking homophobia.  Young black men teach him a new way to dress and talk.  Drunk frat boys willingly give him a ride.  And an entire Pentecostal church saves and embraces him.  Though it’s not always flattering, this is probably the most honest portrait of the American people in the past decade.

“When you chase a dream, especially one with plastic chests, you sometimes do not see the beauty right in front of you.”

Hugo

Young Hugo (Asa Butterfield) finds comfort in imagining that the entire world is a machine, because in a machine, there are no extra parts.  In that idea, he, everyone and everything around him have a purpose.

It is obvious to see where he develops this understanding.  Before his father (Jude Law) died, he taught Hugo how to fix clockwork.  Now as an orphan, he keeps all the clocks running in a Paris train station.  Like a twentieth century Quisimoto, he observes the people within the station from his hiding places.  They have their purposes inside the station.  Passengers, conductors, the flower shop girl, cafe owner with a little dog are all benign.  However, the toy shop keeper (Ben Kingsley) is out to get Hugo for stealing and the inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen) would send him to the orphanage if he ever got a hold of him.

Along with keeping the station’s clocks running, Hugo is determined to fix an automaton he and his father were working on together.  If working properly, it should write a message, one Hugo hopes would bring him some last connection to his father.  But it requires a mysterious key, and the more Hugo works on the automaton, the more enveloped he becomes in the mystery surrounding it.

One of the fondest memories Hugo has about his father is going to the movies.  Stories Hugo heard of seeing a rocket landing in the eye of the man in the moon sounds like an old legend.  As the mystery unfolds, it brings out the influence and importance of early film, film preservation and the ways movies bring people together.  In terms of themes closes to Martin Scorsese’s heart, Hugo may be one of his proudest works.  His nomination for Best Director is well deserved.

In addition to Best Director, there are ten other Oscar nominations Hugo is competing for: Best Picture, Art Direction, Costume Design, Cinematography, Film Editing, Original Score, Sound Editing, Sound Mixing, Visual Effects and Adapted Screenplay.  As you can see, many of them come from how technically compelling the film is.

For a film buff, some of the most amazing scenes are watching turn of the century silent movies in production.  To see them recreated, in film so vivid and colorful you feel you are right there, is a surreal experience.  It really does feel like watching dreams being made.  I was first introduced to Georges Melies in college, my professor describing his films as magic tricks.  They truly were and still are.

Personally, I view 3D as a gimmick and fad in film, but the use of 3D in Hugo is like nothing else I have ever seen.  There are no cheap tricks and the colors do not feel dulled.  Instead, the 3D brings out the depth of the scenes in amazing layers.  As Hugo runs through the train station and within its walls, the camera follows in magnificent long-shots that unfold in a lovely fluid movement and we feel transported as the surroundings and layers of steam rush by.  Its been said that Scorsese wore clip-on 3D lenses of over his glasses to assist in the cinematography and get a better grip on how the final film would turn out in 3D.  I have to say, whatever Scorsese did, he should keep on doing it.

“My friends, I address you all tonight as you truly are; wizards, mermaids, travelers, adventurers, magicians.  Come and dream with me.”

If the Academy is looking to award a magical film for all ages that reminds us how important film history and preservation is, Hugo will win the Oscar for Best Picture.