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This genie
is not going back in the bottle.
The Kids Are All Right
An Illusion Review by Joan
Ellis
Writer/director Lisa Cholodenko shines a contemporary light on a
traditional subject in her very good movie "The Kids are All Right."
The subject is marriage, and the new light springs from the vast
cultural changes of the last few years. Changes that used to evolve
now come with warp speed to burrow quickly into the fabric of
acceptance. Gay marriage, sperm donors, and extended families are here
to stay, and Cholodenko and her terrific cast don't waste a second
raising their eyebrows.
The fact that
Nic (Annette Bening) and Jules (Julianne Moore) are the married couple
is incidental to the fact that their marriage is hitting the
proverbial 20-year bump when the kids are getting ready to leave home.
Things are getting prickly. Joni (Mia Wasikowska) is going off to
college; Laser (Josh Hutcherson) is itching to find the sperm donor
who fathered both of them.
Paul (Mark
Ruffalo) is the relaxed former hippie who has carried his values
forward to the organic restaurant he now owns. He is only too happy to
accept Joni's invitation to meet his two offspring - and their
mothers. Paul's entry into the family adds to the rocky weather.
Responsible Nic is a serious doctor who is edging up to a drinking
problem; Former hippie Jules floats from one interest to another and
finds a new one in Paul whose unfocused life mirrors her own. Trouble.
That's the
plot, but the skill here lies in the details. Cholodenko consistently
directs her characters to reveal themselves in the little things -
they way they brush their teeth, their clothes, their habits, whatever
it is that unhinges each of them. Nic's impatience and Jules' airiness
were on a collision course before Paul's arrival. It is also the small
things that show their affection best - one hand on another, an
unexpected smile.
All five actors become masters at conveying the awkwardness of people
in emotional turmoil. No one knows how to handle the situation until
it eventually handles itself. Bening paints Nic in crisp judgments and
Moore takes refuge in the "feelings" of today's organic culture.
Ruffalo is Ruffalo, and for this movie, that's perfect. By the time
painful silence envelops the breakfast ritual, everyone is miserable.
This is authentic awkwardness, familiar and beautifully captured.
Another smart
stroke is the willingness of Bening and Moore to play their roles
without trying to look younger than they are. These are women
perfectly willing to be the harried mothers of adult children. Good
for them.
As for the
graphic sex and language from all players, it's a clear announcement
that the prevailing culture refuses to hide today's realities. This
genie is not going back in the bottle. A terrific writer and a fine
cast give us an authentic look at the complexities of one contemporary
family struggling with the new chaos. This movie might just do for all
kinds of marriages what "Thelma and Louise" did for feminism.
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The
unfathomable chaos becomes intolerable.
Inception
An Illusion Review by Joan
Ellis
"Inception" is not merely a bad movie; it's an enormous insult to the
audience. Christopher Nolan has conjured an intriguing premise which
he then wraps in millions of dollars worth of production money before
throwing an impossible challenge at all of us: "See if you can keep up
with this one!" Consider the premise.
The field of
Extraction has been discovered. Leonardo DiCaprio is Cobb, the
extractor. He intrigues us with the theory that it is now possible to
steal an idea from someone's mind. In fact, he has done it. Now he
suggests that if an idea can be so stolen, why is it not possible to
plant one in an unsuspecting mind? Ideas will be stolen or planted
while the subject is dreaming. For those of us who have always loved
the certainty that no one can read our minds, this has the promise of
a great story. But that promise is immediately annihilated by the
opening scenes that bombard us with violence and confusion. If we
listen very closely, we learn the plot involves something about a
corporation, the CEO, his heir, and the combination to the safe that
holds the rich man's will. But these essentials are buried in an
explosion of noise.
Because Cobb
blew it last time around, a new architect must be found to design the
dreams for the subjects after they are put to sleep. This would be
Ellen Page as Ariadne who will talk to the subconscious of the
subjects on a deeper dream level than usual. With understandable
hesitation, she takes the job "because it's pure creation."
We visit a
chemist's underground dream lab ("Come, I'll show you.) where the
chemist will develop a sedative powerful enough to sustain three
layers of dreaming. We travel to the Alps where white suited people
are tossed about by an avalanche. We visit Tokyo and New York where
landscapes become dreamscapes that fold physically in on themselves.
That's quite fun to watch for a few minutes. While the screen is awash
in car chases, fireballs, eruptions, gunfire, and the swashing of
knives into flesh, remember that this is ok because, if you're lucky,
it will probably be a dream. After two hours and thirty-six minutes
the unfathomable chaos becomes intolerable.
Mr. Nolan has
hired expensive talent (DiCaprio, Page, and Marion Cotillard) and
spent millions on special effects and stunts, making it ever more
dismal that he never allows the audience to fit the pieces of his
puzzle together. He never clarifies the connections between places and
people that would allow us to have a good time in the maze. As the
interminable ordeal finally winds down, we are wondering simply who
will be left alive at the end. Who will wake up from which dream? Once
again a movie becomes a canvas for special effects at the expense of
story. This ranks as the longest bad movie made by talented people
that I have seen in years.
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