Monday, 2 January 2012

The Ides of Mr Clooney


One might wish that more on-screen time was given to Paul Giamatti and Phillip Seymour Hoffman in The Ides of March – the latest flick brought to us by the Hollywood mogul Gorge Clooney. Knowing how much potential the film has with the quad of male leads it is a little disappointing that the story focuses almost exclusively on the Clooney-Gosling duo. But that’s the consequence of following almost word by word the play Farragut North on which the screenplay to The Ides was based. 

Truth be told, the film is enjoyable through most of its duration, mostly because of its nicely done editing and clear, yet conventional aesthetics. There is unfortunately less excitement in the storyline department. The first half of the film feels like one long sequence taken out of an HBO drama. It has some very promising stylistic features and as it moves at its considerably slow pace, it feels as if it may have been building up to something grand. But for a feature film which The Ides of March is, the flick runs out of steam pretty quickly. In addition to that, the twist which drives the second half of the narrative is both predictable and underwhelming.

I was reminded of Woody Allen’s Crimes and Misdemeanours as the film was heading towards its climax. An affair with a young woman and its moral as well as pragmatic consequences is the driving force for both films. But while Woody Allen shapes his storyline attempting to find out what is the purpose of guilt in our lives, Clooney stops at asking a faint and clichéd, “are human beings moral?” Stephen Meyers (Gosling) compromises his integrity for a career in politics, while Governor Mike Morris (Clooney) reinforces his unethical act of adultery by making unscrupulous arrangements with  Meyers. The matter of guilt does not even enter the universe in which Meyers and Morris rival their male egos, and perhaps the lack of that aspect of consciousness in both men’s thinking is the director’s way of bluntly stating that politics is a game only for those who are able to silence their consciousness. But if so, the film falls into its own intellectual trap, as for anyone who has even the slightest idea about the world in general, such an assumption about politics is a no-brainer. 

Even if we are to speak strictly about The Ides’ relevance to other films, we are to discover  that the same theme was discussed in almost all political dramas, beginning with the all-time classic Mr Smith Goes to Washington, ending with Good Night and Good Luck, or more recently, Lions for Lambs.

The last scene of the film in which Stephen Meyers is about to give an interview, leaves us with the man staring directly into the camera. The mechanism of an open ending has its use in a variety of genres, but in case of The Ides of March feels completely out of place. It seems to be regarded as a mysterious and exciting way to finish the film, assuming that the audience will wonder over the meaning of that last glance. Instead, the ending feels rushed and inconclusive, as if Clooney did not quite know what else to add. Interestingly enough Clooney might have proven something that he did not intend – that films themselves are very much like politicians. With its amount of Golden Globes’ nominations and the potential success at the Oscars, one can only compare The Ides of March to Clooney’s character, Governor Morris. Similarly to Governor’s political campaign, the film’s true tour de force is its marketing promotion. Will it be enough to grant Mr Clooney the grand prize?






Wednesday, 26 October 2011

The Future? Not necessarily.


Miranda July’s directorial style represents the best and the worst of what the American indie cinema has to offer. There is the corny, over the top and at the same time dull story-telling which she manages to combine with a masterful, daunting study of human behaviour. The lack of an appropriate balance of these two ingredients is what kept her first feature film Me, You and Everyone We Know from expanding outside its comfort zone and becoming something more than a mediocre flick. It goes without saying that I was slightly apprehensive when going to see her latest film, The Future. While hoping that I would be nicely surprised, I was definitely prepared for the worst.

And yet again, what I got was a mix of both; some aspects of the film truly disappointed while the others made me extremely excited. The disappointing parts are a result of Miranda’s choice to assign her dramatic arc to a semi-comedy formula. Every time the film takes an emotional plunge into the depths of the human psyche, July very quickly brings it back to the surface with comic relief, assuming that her audience won’t be able to stand the pressure should the film get too serious. She talks in her film about displeasure with life, an inability to control our fate and sexual desires. But July very forcefully tries to balance these issues with situational farce which to me, not only belittles the importance of the portrayed matters but suggests that the dramatic aspects of our existence aren’t entertaining enough for a film.

The starting point of the film is when Sophie (July) and Jason (Linklater) decide to adopt a cat. They see that as a very important step in their relationship, a commitment that requires long time sacrifices from both of them. Their new pet must undergo surgery and it takes an additional month before they can bring it home with them. They take advantage of that convenient ‘delay’ and they decide to re-evaluate their lives and find out what to do with their future. Their process of discovery is juxtaposed with a commentary of Paw-Paw, their newly adopted cat who longingly looks forward to the moment when the couple will come back to take him home. Paw-Paw sets a rather sad, sentimental tone for the story, and is probably the nicest feature of the entire film. As he looks through the bars of his cage, counting down minutes and seconds to the fulfilling moment of becoming a part of his new family, we see Jason and Sophie turning into prisoners of their own desires. 

The two quit their jobs and undertake activities that are supposed to enrich their existence and bring happiness. But breaking with the routine pulls the couple away from each other as it brings a scary realisation that they are no longer bound by any expectations from the outside world. The feeling of freedom makes them happy for a while, but in the long run brings a terrifying awareness that they lack any ambition. With the extra time on her hands, Sophie begins an affair with Paw-Paw’s ex-owner, and Jason spends his days talking to a randomly met older man who treats him to stories about his dead wife. Sophie’s eccentric behaviour is the cause of her affair falling apart in the end, and Jason is too scared to face the reality of a break-up and literally freezes time in order to avoid confrontation.

With her use of surreal aesthetics in the final moments of the film July stumbles upon something spectacular but it positively takes her far too much time to get to that point. Although charmed by  Paw-Paw’s voiceover and the ending sequences, I found myself mostly disinterested by July’s slow and safe narration preceding the final scenes. The characters doom their happiness by constant longing for the future. Similarly to that, July hangs her film’s potential for greatness somewhere towards the end, but that promise seems too far in the future for someone who doesn’t find the first two-thirds of the film engaging enough to care about the characters’ fate.