blogandsqualor Reviews

A Serious Man (2009)

Best Coen Bros. Yet

[10/10 · 20 December 2009]

The Coen Brothers, with the exception of one film (I'm assuming I don't need to remind you of the frustrating Burn After Reading) never disappoint in the their delivery of intriguing stories, incredible performances, and hilarious comedic antics wedged in the midst of dark sadism. But with A Serious Man, they outdo even their best work, unearthing true cinematic excellence with a pervading sense of existential doom to create a lyrical masterpiece.

The trailer foreshadowed the film's tone with its hypnotic beat, a clock exponentially counting down, a rhythm present in every scene and splice of the film. The subtle tension it builds as victim and passive protagonist Larry Gopnik's (Michael Stuhlbarg who melts into the role) life spirals into oblivion, prevents the story from slipping into the boring or schlocky, and fully grounds the often overly zany Coen humor (at best in the Big Lebowski, at its worst in Burn After Reading).

Our recent pop culture obsession with the sixties is a powerful one. The suburban disillusionment, waning economy, and struggle with new freedoms visible every Sunday night during Mad Men, something we can all currently relate to. The Coen's play fully upon this familiarity, show-casing the starkness of the flat suburbs and the clean concrete lines of the college where Larry works. Even the Synagogue is perfectly paneled with the kind of stifling interior you'd rip out immediately if given the chance.

While the vision is bleak, it is also beautiful. The brothers skillfully mix a strong sense of mystical Jewish culture (the prequel starring Fyvush Finkel as a possible dybbuk, who I'm convinced may actually be one in real life, sets the initial tone), and find a strange reluctant splendor in the suburban Midwest landscape through brilliant cinematography. As in their previous works like No Country For Old Men, they prove again that they understand atmosphere and how it can make a movie. There is something haunting in the echo of opera through the perfectly ordered house as Larry and his mentally off brother (Richard Kind showing off his dramatic acting chops) share the living room sofa, or when his young son practices for his Bar Mitzvah with the the F-Troop on in the background. The frightening mystery of science, physics, and mathematics is also expertly woven into the religious and philosophical fabric of the film, making its punch even greater in force. No existential curiosity goes unquestioned.

Seething underneath, you can sense the primal power of God, fate, or chance (whatever you decide to call it). But despite all Larry goes through, the Coen's seem to leave the nature and intentions of that force up for interpretation.

This "show," don't "tell" attitude makes all the difference. As Gopnik glides through the film with only a slight neurotic unraveling invisible to his wife seeking a divorce, his religious leaders, coworkers, and lifeless children, you laugh at the disgusting hilarity of his situation, but also cringe, as the powers of the universe seem to take particular joy in destroying the short time that Larry has on this earth. As anyone whose experienced the heavy hand of said "powers that be" can tell you, that's exactly what it feels like. There are moments of conspiracy, in which you assume that everyone but you seems in on the joke. Each step seems to lead to another catastrophe, a descent into madness that often leaves you laughing and puzzled more than angry. Like Larry you seek help, in a book or a religious counselor, in friends. You question what you've been doing wrong, you move forward. You wonder what the future holds. But like Larry, you never know if the cat is alive or dead, or if it even matters; a Coen message at its very best.

Where the Wild Things Are (2009)

Pretty, Boring Things

[6/10 · 20 December 2009]

Spike Jonze's adaption of Where the Wild Things Are is a somewhat decent retelling of a classic that walks a fine line between beautiful success and disappointing failure, ever so slightly leaning towards the success for its younger audience. Jonze's ability to be both surreal and visceral makes the film a must see despite it's few problems. Jonze and cinematographer Lance Acord's imagery is absolutely stunning and beautiful to watch, capturing the imagination and beauty of the original illustrations completely. The settings and characters fuse together seamlessly, a hard thing to find in most fantasy films in which the setting never quite integrates properly. The bird nest-like huts and dazzling fort that the Wild Things create look like alien, organic installation art pieces that any modern art museum would clamor to have, and any child would be proud to claim their own. Carter Burwell's stunning score, mixed with the bittersweet vocals of Karen O (of Yeah Yeah Yeahs fame) further the dark atmosphere of the film, making the image a complete and impressive one.

The acknowledgment of this darkness is the strength of the film. Jonze fully captures and plays upon the rare ability of children to hijack terror, turning it into a game, a friend, and a confidant. Every moment of the film brought me back to my childhood, where just like Max I was stricken with fear and grief over a small comment by a science teacher regarding the eventual death of the sun, or shameful after an outburst against my parents. Sendak's story is a simple one; powerful because in just ten lines its able to capture the innocent anger of childhood. Jonze and Dave Eggers understand the magic of this simplicity. It's an incredible feeling, something that only a director like Jonze could accomplish without superficial sentimentality. Despite its beauty, the film has some unfortunate issues. After such an enchanting trip to first meet the Wild Things, hearing their modern day language and cadence is jarring, in stark contrast to the imaginative look of their figures. The voices and dialog of KW (Six Feet Under's Lauren Ambrose) and Judith (Cathrine O'Hara doing Catherine O'Hara) are particularly distracting. I can see why Jonze and David Eggers made the choices they did (the Wild Things are supposed to be real examples from Max's 2009 life) but it doesn't quite fit. Judith especially, as self-proclaimed, is just a downer. Luckily, Paul Dano, Chris Cooper, Forest Whittaker, and James Gandolfini are able to create a little more depth and character with their voices, but it still doesn't do enough to make the dialog more cohesive to the rest of the film. The film also lags a bit, but not because its slow moving. Max's experience with the Wild Things is an allegory of his experience with his mother and family. As he discovers the perils and sadness of responsibility, he begins to appreciate his mother, even wishing upon the Wild Things, "I wish you guys had a mom." There are many moving moments as Max discovers this, specifically when Carol expresses his fear and frustration saying "everything keeps changing," while Max finds himself unable to comfort the Wild Things and prove to them that everything will be OK, exposing himself just as his mother and every parent before her has had to do when their child realizes that they aren't all powerful.

But instead of sticking with these powerful moments and keeping it close to the parent child allegory, Jonze and Eggers throw in an awkward, odd, and vaguely romantic (or does it mirror Max and his sister Claire?) relationship between Wild Things KW and Carol. It brings a conflict into the fray that is never fully realized or resolved and feels uncomfortable in a movie devoted to the powerful unconditional love between families. It's not that the relationship didn't deserve a place, but Eggers and Jonze seemed to struggle with whether or not they thought it did, leaving the film disjointed and sluggish whenever the subject was brought up. Despite these flaws, the film retains visual magic. I immediately ran home and hugged both my parents in respect of all they've done for me and their power to still make things OK, even after 25 years. Younger audiences will have no trouble getting beyond the films flaws (if they notice them at all), and will be enchanted for the rest of their lives. I wanted to like you Wild Things, I really did. You just couldn't do it for me despite your beautiful face.

M. Butterfly (1993)

A Sad Disappointment

[20 December 2009]

David Cronenberg is not a shrinking violet of a filmmaker. From gross out effects to inner darkness of mind and body, he's one of few masters of the surreal to capture the beasties that crawl out from the deepest recesses of human experience. Unfortunately in 1993's M Butterfly, his attempt to play things straight leaves the film distant and lackluster.

Based on a play of the same name, the film explores the real life relationship between a Beijing opera star posing as a woman (John Lone), and the French consulate officer (Jeremy Irons) that loves her for 20 years without discovering that she's actually a man. Irons and Lone provide solid performances, with a surprising level of chemistry. Lone especially deserves credit for his nuanced performance that plays with ambiguity, occupying the gray areas of gender with ease. While it's hard to believe that anyone could be so dense in regards to their lover's gender, the fact that it's a true story removes the fault from the film.

The film is beautifully shot, showcasing the elaborate staging of Chinese opera and the exotic splendor of a 1960's China caught between the old and the modern. Within these performances and strong backdrop, Cronenberg asks many important questions about gender, race, art, and love, but they never quite feel sincere. He's distant here, just as the Asian Song Liling is from her white lover Gallimard. It gives the film a Kubrick-esquire feeling that may work on a grander scale, but feels forced and cold in such an intimate tale focused on love and obsession, especially from a director usually so skilled in addressing inexpressible emotional themes on screen.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)

Worth the View

[7/10 · 20 December 2009]

Loosely based on the F. Scott Fitzgerald story about a New Orleans native (Brad Pitt) that ages backward, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button has all the ingredients for success, but falls victim to its own and Oscar aspirations. Button narrates his life story as it's posthumously read to true love Daisy (Cate Blanchett) on her deathbed, just hours before hurricane Katrina hits. With Pitt's characteristic faux Southern narration and the anciently made-up, mumbling Blanchett who intermittently croaks out one final fantastical story, the narrative feels instantly trite; the impending catastrophe just a cheap melodramatic gimmick. Oscar nominee Taraji P. Henson is the only strong point in the film at this point, her role as Benjamin's adopted mother heartbreaking.

Fincher, whose directing style is consistently cold (effective in the right setting), doesn't do enough with the backgrounds, a missed opportunity for a story set in one of America's oldest and most historically lush cities. It feels cold all around, especially as both Pitt and Blanchett are the type of actor to play their roles with a gusto that feels like an actor playing a part, and not an actor sinking into a character. That's not always a bad thing (ie. Inglorious Basterds or Elizabeth), but when their forces combine with the addition of Fincher, it's hard to stay invested.

The film does find its heart once Daisy (who ages normally) and Benjamin meet in the middle. What was once clichéd begins to feel real and magical, especially at the end as Daisy nurses the infant Button at the end of his life, or as the waters of the Katrina engulf New Orleans. Sadly, the last half is not enough to save the film from itself, but does make it worth a viewing.

The Young Victoria (2009)

Blunt and Friend Sparkle, Wish the Film Did

[8/10 · 20 December 2009]

It's hard to find an outright bad historical drama that's based on the life of any number of British monarchs. Just take a well respected British or Australian actor, make things look pretty, and you're guaranteed a formula for Oscar success.

The Young Victoria is no exception, getting just about everything right, the cinematography striking and beautiful, with soft lights and lush colors and fabrics. Starring Emily Blunt in a role she can finally soar in, the film begins with Victoria's 18th birthday and moves through the intrigue and issues that surrounded her eventual rise to the throne and her famous marriage to Prince Albert (Rupert Friend). As the young Victoria herself laments, she's moved like a chess pawn by a variety of parties as she finds her footing and her voice as one of Britain's most influential rulers.

While this moving around the chess board is fairly typical territory, it is the development of Victoria's relationship with Albert that makes the film slightly more interesting. I confess: I have a degree in history with a specialization in the Victorian era, so I'm a bit attached to these figures. Despite their many flaws as rulers, Victoria and Albert were some of the first leaders devoted to improving civilization for their people. They left their legacy in the arts, in public health and education, and in Victoria's conservative views and mourning culture after Albert's death. But these things are only briefly hinted at during the film.

It is fairly well established that Victoria and Albert were not only madly in love, but held a level of respect for each other not usually seen between monarchs in arranged marriages. Even if it did occur behind the scenes, their's was certainly one of the best known. Blunt and and Friend have just the right type of chemistry to do the famous pair justice, the proper mix of restraint and desperation. It's a different love, not usually shown on screen, especially in this sort of film. It's encouraging to finally see a relationship in which man and woman are on a equal playing field.

But we don't get to see that love enough. While the filmmakers try to fit the affair amongst the political trappings, it doesn't quite build up the sort of momentum needed to keep the tension high. Also, without delving into the more advanced important public work of the pair, things feel a bit in limbo, superficial instead of intimate, and sometimes confusing. It's not as big an issue during the film, but afterward, the effects wear off rather quickly and you find yourself trying to remember what you just watched, despite the perfect performances by the leads, most noticeably Blunt who even captures the famous monarch's expressions.

For as much as it tries, Victoria succeeds on many levels but lacks that certain sparkle that would take it from solid to classic.

Gone with the Wind (1939)

Classic for a Reason

[9/10 · 20 December 2009]

Gone With the Wind is a drawn out affair that many youngsters roll their eyes at if they ever catch a parent or grandparent watching it on TCM. Whenever I start watching it, I initially have the same reaction that I do when reading the Twilight Series ( I know! Sacrilegious to even mention them in the same sentence right?). Bella by the end of the Twilight series, is in effect, just another reincarnation of Scarlett, a whiny brat who somehow makes it through all this adversity and ends up with a throng of male followers. I always wonder why anybody cared about Scarlett and didn't leave her to the Yankees in the first place.

But while Bella remains boring, Gone With the Wind slips under your skin and drags you into the drama and web of selfishness. You aren't supposed to like Scarlett and her continuous melodramatic exclamations, she's not the heroine, but a train wreck. As she and Rhett spiral out of control, you can't help but start to care. It's an experience in itself to listen to the clever words drawl off of Clark Gable's lips.

This is the one film that is synonymous with Hollywood. Set against a beautiful cinematic backdrop where every epic scene is laid out with precision and care, the film captures the lushness of the South that exists within the collective American imagination (these images most likely influenced by this film itself). Before watching the film for the first time, I recommend reading a bit about the production and influence it had at the time, facts that only make the film even more impressive. In the background, it captures the death of an era and empire with just the right balance of subtlety and force, an excellent foil to the old Hollywood staginess of the production. But let's face it; that's part of the fun.

Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

A Modern Classic for All Ages and Viewers

[10/10 · 20 December 2009]

Fantastic Mr. Fox is not just the ultimate Wes Anderson film; it's also one of the most unique works of art ever released, an instant classic for kids, adults, hipsters, and the rest of us at large. It captures a magic that few, if any filmmaker has ever been able to find, and moves Anderson from beloved to genius.

Based on the classic Roald Dahl tale, Anderson's take follows Mr. Fox (voiced by George Clooney) through his mid-life, or 7 year-old crisis. Once a talented and adventurous bird thief, he now finds himself living in a hole with a dead end job, a beautiful wife (the perfect Meryl Streep) and a disappointment of a son (stand-out Jason Schwartzman). After an impulsive move into a larger home within a tree trunk and a visit by his talented nephew Kristofferson, Mr. Fox finds himself drawn back into his old ways and into the chicken coups of big box farming operators Boggis, Bunce, and Bean (Michael Gambon).

Like all Anderson movies (most notably The Royal Tenebaums), this film occupies a strange mental and physical space that's both beautiful and intriguing, always evoking a nostalgia that you can't quite place but know deep in your heart. But unlike his other films, it's as if everything that is Wes Anderson was finally allowed to fully germinate and blooms in this entirely stop motion film. Every shot contains an inventive touch that hearkens back the genius of Chuck Jones' Looney Tunes and the twisted beauty of Dahl's England, the town and interiors mirroring Dahl's own home and village. One of the most beautiful and haunting scenes is a glimpse of a wolf across the road; an iconic image that has forever been burned on my brain. The scene pictured below is another example (especially when the boys turn off the lights and switch on a play train that slides into the "real" train on the outside), so rich in atmosphere that it leaves me smiling every time I get a glimpse of it.

Anderson is known for being an obsessive, difficult, and anal-retentive director, all characteristics that allowed him to complete such an impressive work. The film is flawless in its execution. Close-ups on the foxes' faces are expressive and incredibly lifelike. Smoke and flowing water feel real and visceral even if they are just a few cotton balls strung together. Most importantly, the foxes and celebrity voices melt into their surroundings, allowing the film to shake off any box it might have been forced into. Combined with the hilarious, snappy script by Noah Baumbach (Anderson fanboy of The Squid and the Whale fame), you forget you're watching animals or Clooney on screen and fall in love with each character independently.

The music is the final piece of the puzzle. Anderson throws a mix of Beach Boys, Burl Ives, and The Wellingtons among others, my favorite being the inclusion of the love story from Disney's Robin Hood (which starred two foxes).

I don't know what else to say, other than it's utterly, indelibly, and totally fantastic. You'll just have to see it yourself.

The Twilight Saga: New Moon (2009)

Just Have Fun

[8/10 · 20 December 2009]

Let's establish some things first. I have Twilight cred. I have read all of the books, and totally loved and appreciated the first one, and mostly enjoyed the remaining three with some reservations that we aren't going to start fighting about here. I also thought that the first movie, or Twilight, was absolute crap and an embarrassment to the resume of all involved, especially director Catherine Hardwicke, regardless of how it fit in with the books. Thankfully, she was fired.

New Moon, the much anticipated, sparklely and shirtless sequel, is not only fun to watch due to the multiple young men with six pack abs, but is also beautifully photographed, has great action, and captures the Gothic/romantic spirit of the books that launched a billion Hot Topic tee shirt sales.

After an incident that reveals Bella's (Kristen Stewart) fragility, vampire boyfriend and true love Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson, in case you didn't already know) vanishes from her life to protect her from future harm. Enter slightly more grown up, buffer, and Native American werewolf (the movie leaves out the more convoluted rules about shape shifting) Jacob Black (youngster Taylor Lautner), who saves the day. Bella, still reeling from the vampire drama, slips slowly into a puppy love that ends up being unrequited after Cullen returns, leaving little Jake alone in the woods with his pack, just as Edward left Bella.

It's Lautner that ends up stealing the show. The man who fought to keep his part shows off his hard work both physically and emotionally, and plays Black with perfect, sincere sweetness and frustration. More importantly, Lautner holds the sexual tension. Forget the Bella/Edward love affair; Stewart and Lautner show incredible chemistry that saturates the film. It keeps the pressure between the Edward/Bella/Jacob love triangle high, playing off of the driving force that makes the books so attractive and page turning.

The other actors also seem to have gotten a boost from new director Chris Weitz. The previously wooden Pattinson and Stewart actually show real emotion and facial expressions, something that seemed out of their grasp in the first film. Most exciting for a fan of the books is the change in Ashley Greene's Alice, who is transformed from boring and quiet to her proper place as perky and electric. Perhaps, its because Weitz is able to capture the introspective nature of the books, which are mostly narrated by Bella, a place where Hardwicke failed horribly. Mastering that perspective is the key to keeping the film interesting, maintaining the flow, and giving the actors a stake in the film. The film isn't just dramatic, it's also funny with a well written script, allowing the actors a little breathing room.

To top it off, Weitz captures the haunting backdrop of the books by bringing in rich color, and lush surroundings, making the film pop off the screen; a huge change from Hardwicke's homage to bad, melodramatic monster movies. The scene in which Bella leaps from a cliff and ends up in the water with an imagined Edward and killer red headed vampire on her heels is absolutely stunning. The vampires finally look simultaneously more normal (remember the horrible wigs and strange hair we witnessed in the first one?) and more exotic. The CGI werewolves are a bit shocking at first, but begin to fit more seamlessly as the film goes along. Weitz also took the fight scenes multiple notches above Hardwicke's film and it's clear why the ability to make a decent one became an issue in her firing.

New Moon is not the greatest film ever made, but it's certainly a decent one. It's fun for girls and guys, Twilighters and non-Twilighers alike, and has enough to feed the romantic souls of Team Jacob members and Team Edward members for generations to come. If there is fault here, it's not in the moving making, but in the original source material.

An Education (2009)

Nothing New, But Stronger Than Most

[8/10 · 20 December 2009]

An Education follows a fairly straightforward premise; younger, underage girl falls for rich, debonair older man with the ability to charm the pants off girls and parents alike. Surprise, surprise, he's just as slimy as you expected and she gets an education in life and love. I expected a Police song "wet bus stop" and all to start playing. Been there, seen that.

But director Lone Scherfig's film is unconventional in its delivery. Nick Hornby's screenplay (based on Lynn Barber's memoir which, sadly cannot be purchased in the U.S.) is hilarious, intelligent and never trite or sappy, unusual territory for this sort of coming of age yarn. Beyond the script, the performances also deserve credit for transforming the film from boring to success. Lead Carey Mulligan is entirely natural and charming. While she easily shows the naïve arrogance we expect from Jenny, Mulligan never comes off as the annoying rebellious teenager or pretentious pseudo intellectual, making her watchable and likable. It also makes her return to earth sobering in its sincerity and her fall from grace both upsetting and humorous. It's hard not to laugh along with Rosamund Pike's skillfully jaded and flaky Helen when Jenny throws French into their conversation like any too-cool-for-school-teen would have done in the presence of such money and beauty.

Pike and on screen boyfriend Dominic Cooper are one of the great strengths of the film, their facial expressions narrating the film on a sub-textual level that gives it more depth. Alfred Molina also gives a startlingly complex performance as Jenny's father. Again, while he could have fallen into a bumbling caricature, he makes it sweet and earnest, giving the film a dose of reality that keeps it engaging. Peter Sarsgaard's performance as the seducer David is not overly impressive, falling into his usual creepy undertones, but his accent succeeds where I expected it to fail miserably. It's here that the movie falls flat just a bit. Jenny and David's relationship never feels quite as creepy or as passionate as it should, a fact that removes the luster from an otherwise stunning film if pondered too closely.

In addition to the performances, my favorite part of the film was a message that lay between the lines. Jenny's time at school with her no nonsense headmistress (the beautifully glib Emma Thompson) and her exasperated well-meaning teacher Ms. Stubbs (Olivia Williams) is never quite the center of the story, acting as more of a foil to her exploits with David. But Jenny's interactions with Ms. Stubbs and even the headmistress reveal a girl power message that can't be ignored. They know how limiting early 60's life is for an average girl. They understand why Jenny wants to escape and the instant bonding session that occurs between the older and younger generation as a result is moving and instantly recognizable. It leaves you with a surprisingly upbeat story and a big smile on your face.

It's great fun, moving entertainment in a beguiling package despite its standard messages about the big bad wolf hiding underneath fancy sports cars and trips to Paris.

Up in the Air (I) (2009)

Don't Believe the Hype

[6/10 · 19 December 2009]

"Up In the Air" is perhaps the most hyped film of the year, and also the most undeserving of said hype.

The story is a simple and predictable one. Ryan Bingham (George Clooney) is a consultant sent throughout the country to fire unsuspecting employees for bosses too cowardly to do the job themselves. He lives for the routine of these trips and the frequent flier miles, spending only a few days at home in a studio apartment too small for a house cat. Enter 23 year-old upstart Natalie (Anna Kendrick) who revolutionizes the process with video conferencing, removing the last human element from the job. Bingham is naturally horrified by the changes and is forced to take Natalie under his wing, teaching her the ways of the force, getting her to loosen up while simultaneously showing her a thing or two about humanity and the wisdom of experience. As his relationship with fellow chronic traveler Alex (Vera Farmiga) heats up, Natalie imparts her own advice to Bingham, helping him to grow a heart.

I could have let the predictable story go if director Jason Reitman had given the audience something else, anything else. But the script is entirely lackluster, full of cheap one liners that even Clooney's usual charm just barely supports. Clooney does his usual Cary Grant routine, which is neither here nor there, not horrible, but not groundbreaking, all sadness in the eyes and slight smile. It is refreshing to see Vera Farmiga as a love interest, a woman over 30 who neither whores herself out or plays the strong ice queen, but exudes intelligence and confidence without becoming a caricature of the high-powered woman. Here, she's entirely natural and beautiful in an atypical way. I'm also strangely attached to Kendrick, who doesn't do anything that impressive, but seems to be trying hard enough. It's in the few bonding moments between Clooney's Bingham and Kendrick's Natalie that the film takes a minute of serious drama and finds a bit of sincerity, but these moments are few and far between.

If the film had concentrated on the superficiality and desolation of corporate consulting, we might have gotten somewhere. Or, if Bingham and Natalie had found themselves unemployed, the film might have presented just the type of irony and schadenfreude we would need to relate. Instead, the film makes an attempt to reach out to the jobless masses of America in the most trite and insulting way possible, the only slight reflection of sincerity found in the sadness of Clooney and Kendrick's eyes as they listen to the newly unemployed lament their inevitable fates.

Many critics have praised this film for its timeliness and Reitman's understanding of the current American situation. It was irritating to sit there and watch Bingham tell a man that being fired was his chance to become a French cuisine chef, after the man had just talked about his expensive mortgage and his daughter's need of health care. After a little smile and pep talk from Bingham, the man is suddenly on board, ready to follow his dreams. It's always helpful to be positive and stay focused, but there comes a point when this sort of clichéd platitude becomes insensitive, and here, Reitman shows himself the king of producing them. The film didn't need this sort of faux validation to draw out the drama, there was already enough there to work with.

For a typical film, Up In the Air is perfectly satisfactory and an enjoyable enough distraction for anyone that gets pleasure watching Clooney do what he does best. But ignore the hype, ignore the awards, and lower your expectations. There's nothings shocking or particularly moving here, unless of course you're one of the unemployed. In that case, it's better to just go see something like "Avatar" and escape for a few hours.

Moon (2009)

Great Movie If You Want It To Be

[9/10 · 25 July 2009]

Moon is a philosophical film at heart, examining a variety of complex subjects and dilemmas with a precise and perfect manner, mirroring the voice of its robot servant Gerty and the emptiness of the base itself. This is both the source of its beauty and a few problems.

(Spoiler Alert) Although the beginning of the film gives us the usual stark view of the "astronaut alone," common in all well-done space movies and in this case especially derivative of the original Solaris, it is in Sam's discovery that the film really takes flight and becomes something exciting and new. Sam Rockwell gives a stunning performance, playing multiple versions of Sam Bell with great care and delicacy, making each clone new and yet the same; totally different from the often unintentionally comedic performances a role like that can manifest.

But the subtlety of Rockwell's performance, when combined with the starkness and quiet of the base, can make the film feel mechanical to the unprepared viewer. Rockwell doesn't force his audience to feel for him. It's something that occurs only when you take time out from the screen to examine just how lonely, terrifying, and unfair Sam's experience is. You have to explore Sam's plight on your own. It is up to you to unravel the multitude of layers and depths swimming beneath the surface of this intricate story or take them at face value, an aspect of the film that can potentially leave many viewers understandably unsatisfied and unmoved.

One of the emotional surprises in the film does come from Sam's interaction with Gerty the robot, his only companion. Gerty is the best on screen portrayal of a robot "friend" to date. He takes great care of Sam, not because he feels for Sam, but because that is logically the best thing for him to do, and yet he does his job well. He is neither sinister or abnormally compliant, his emoticon "face" lending the film an at times eerie and other times emotive component that feels more realistic and effective then his counterparts like HAL or Robbie the Robot.

I loved the film, was compelled as I watched it, and unable to easily leave it behind once I left the theater. But I also didn't leave with a strong emotional response, despite my understanding of the broad horrors of that Sam was facing. I'm not sure if that's a bad thing or not; maybe it depends on which version of me was watching.