Tag: jodie foster

The Silence of the Lambs


The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
★★★★ / ★★★★

It seems everywhere she goes Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster), one of the top students at the FBI training academy, feels the male gaze caressing her: the local cops who find a corpse that had been underwater for days; her fellow trainees and superiors; the director of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane (Anthony Health); even the serial killer Dr. Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins), dubbed Hannibal the Cannibal by the media, the former psychiatrist Clarice has been assigned to interview in order to gather information about a recently infamous psychopath known as Buffalo Bill—whose M.O. involves removing women’s skin after murdering them. He intends to stitch the skins and wear them. “Are you about a size 14?”

“The Silence of the Lambs,” based on the screenplay by Ted Tally and directed by Jonathan Demme, is first-rate entertainment. It is filled to the brim with sharp, intelligent, and fluid dialogue; carefully calibrated performances that not only demand viewers not to blink but also invite us to lean in and listen more closely; and memorable images so graphic at times that when we close our eyes our brain traces the outlines of grotesque images in the back of our eyelids. It is a psychological thriller so potent, tension gathers every step of the way—and it doesn’t let go until Clarice’s gun is fired in the expertly paced final ten minutes.

The picture’s centerpiece is the interaction between earnest Clarice and cunning Dr. Lecter. The relationship is curious because it is strictly a business transaction, a bartering of crucial information: Clarice provides details—sometimes painful details—about her past, Lecter gives insight on how to detect and capture Buffalo Bill. There is no trace of romantic connection. Not even a twisted father-daughter connection. It is a thrilling chess match between two perceptive individuals must who must work together in order to achieve their goals.

I think deep down they like each other. Perhaps there is even respect there. This is a masterstroke in an already top notch material. It is a true horror film in that we are asked to identify with a serial killer who eats his victims and feels no remorse. There is no explanation offered regarding this compulsion. It just is. Hopkins appears on screen for less than fifteen minutes in total yet his presence can be felt throughout. The level of menace he injects in the Lecter character is so high that it is able to pierce through every scene with ease. He need not be mentioned because Foster carries Clarice’s exchanges with Dr. Lecter like a scar. She is challenged to think like him but at the same time overcome him in order to avoid being played.

Demme possesses an understanding of how to capture situational horror effectively. Forget corpses on a platter or blood spatters as security guards are beaten with a truncheon. Look at the way images are framed as Clarice walks down the hall seconds before she introduces herself to the notorious Dr. Lecter. Observe the manner in which Buffalo Bill interacts with his victims, particularly the scene where he tries to copy the way a woman screams. On the surface, it appears as though he’s simply mocking her misery. But no. Like Clarice and Dr. Lecter, Buffalo Bill is a person who studies, who yearns to be free through a kind of transformation.

Pay special attention to the finale when Clarice must make her way through the dark… while the killer, standing about five feet away from her, wears night vision goggles… gazing at her. All of these examples require patience to unfold so that they truly get under our skins. We remember them not necessarily for the images but how they make us feel, how anticipation grips us by the throat.

Hotel Artemis


Hotel Artemis (2018)
★★ / ★★★★

Take the cool concept of hotel-exclusively-for-criminals from “John Wick”—but turn the posh setting the opposite way: as grubby as possible without losing the foreboding mood—and set it amidst a political backdrop that involves rioters’ violent uprising against the privatization of clean water in Los Angeles 2028. The result is “Hotel Artemis,” written and directed by Drew Pearce, an action-thriller that offers a few neat ideas but quite underwhelming as a whole. In the middle of it, I wondered if it might have been better off as television show.

Part of its lack of cinematic appeal is the standard disparate characters having to converge at one place. Given that the titular hotel is meant to heal criminals, many of them killers, we already expect for them to drop like flies. It is all a matter of when and in what order. Since it takes on this level of predictability, dramatic gravity must be enhanced to such an extent that we overlook the final destination. Its attempt goes as far as to provide flashbacks of the nurse (Jodie Foster) who runs the hotel, how she found her son dead at the beach due to a drug overdose. Since then she has been in a state of grief—it has gotten so bad that she has developed agoraphobia over the years. She blames herself so much that she has made Hotel Artemis her personal prison, to exist to serve till the day she dies.

Meanwhile, we get snippets of snappy banter among a slate of criminals, from bank robbers (Sterling K. Brown), arms dealers (Charlie Day), to hired assassins (Sofia Boutella). All of them are convincing in their respective roles with the exception of Zachary Quinto as the hotel owner’s volatile son. Every time he utters a line, I felt as though the performer was taken from a completely different picture. It is distracting at best, laughable at worst—especially when the character is supposed to be taken seriously as a major threat against everyone in the hotel. The angry son is given no character development.

The picture is shot against a curious political backdrop but the anger swelling outside of the hotel is used merely as a device. News coverage is shown on televisions inside the Artemis, we hear bombs going off in the distance, and rooftop scenes show aircrafts crashing on nearby buildings. These images are meant to amplify the tension from the outside in, perhaps even aiming to paint a picture of a hellish near-future, but the social commentary, while present, is completely lost. Like its underdeveloped characters, its ideas, too, are undercooked. I felt no excitement or enjoyment from these images.

A cursory approach almost always does not work with high-concept action-thrillers. The point of having ambitious ideas is to explore them in a way that is thoroughly entertaining—that if one were to strip away the action altogether, the viewers would still want to know what would happen because the drama is rooted in something real. “Hotel Artemis” fails to invest emotionally and so only a shallow experience is offered. While not necessarily bad or unbearable, nearly everything about it is forgettable. If there were to be a sequel, which the material nudges by mentioning other hotels with a similar purpose, ideas must be explored first and foremost. Otherwise, what would be the point?

Elysium


Elysium (2013)
★★★ / ★★★★

Exposed to a lethal dose of radiation while at work, Max (Matt Damon) is informed that he has about five days to live. Although his condition can be cured, it is available only to the wealthiest and they reside not on Earth—since it has become overpopulated, polluted, and diseased—but on a space station called Elysium led by President Patel (Faran Tahir) and run by Defense Secretary Delacourt (Jodie Foster). People on Earth know that the panacea comes in a form of a med bay and it is available to every home in Elysium. However, every time non-Elysium citizens try to breach the space station, they are killed without a moment’s hesitation.

I am not convinced that the concepts tackled by “Elysium”—the division between developed and developing countries, illegal immigration, the gap when it comes to healthcare between the rich and the poor—are fully developed. However, writer-director Neill Blomkamp sure knows how to construct a thrilling action sequence. As a social critique, it did not inspire me to think much but as a sci-fi action, I was entertained.

The look of the picture is quite beautiful. The slums of Los Angeles in 2154 look very lived-in but not so much that they look like an utter wasteland. Though Damon’s physicality, especially when his character is eventually fused with an exo-suit designed to enhance Max’ strength, dominates just about every frame, there is always something worth noticing in the background: children playing, vendors selling fruit, the way the heat rests on men hanging out under the sun. We can almost feel the dust being inhaled and tasted.

Conversely, the interiors and exteriors of Elysium look very polished. The trees look almost like plastic or genetically engineered to perfection. The floors are so white, one wonders if there is such a thing as mud or grime in the sheltered world. The extras are mostly white, happy, and wearing clothing that seem to come right off Ralph Lauren ads. The availability of space between them are also noticeable. There is room to move around and breathe air without dust. On Earth, just about everyone is only an arm’s length away.

The film excels in showcasing adrenaline-fueled action. I liked the build-up between characters using mostly guns initially and then eventually utilizing knives, swords, and fists to render or pummel an opponent into submission. Sharlto Copley, playing a psychopathic sleeper agent named Kruger who takes orders from the cold and calculating Delacourt, exudes a gruff menace so potent, I believed him as a formidable villain seconds after he first appears on screen. Kruger and Max are well-matched. Though the former has more experience and considers the hunt as a game, the other is fueled by desperation.

Perhaps the greatest limitation of “Elysium” is its less than subtle commentary on what is wrong with America today. Images involving the system imposing its power on those with little or without means made me look back on real-life footages shown in the news or documentaries. By comparison, it is a level of irony because even though what is shown here is more dramatized, it is less powerful than actuality. If the approach has been less forceful, maybe a challenge for comparison would not have been as recurrent.

The Beaver


The Beaver (2011)
★★★ / ★★★★

Walter Black (Mel Gibson) had been suffering from major depression for two years. His wife, Meredith (Jodie Foster), could no longer put up with his illness because it began to affect their kids, Porter (Anton Yelchin) and Henry (Riley Thomas Stewart), so she decided to kick him out of the house. Right after a failed suicide attempt, Walter began to speak through a hand-puppet called The Beaver. With a promise to make his life better, Walter agreed to all of Beaver’s demands. Written by Kyle Killen and directed by Jodie Foster, “The Beaver” was an honest look at how depression could demolish even the strongest families. It was challenging because we were asked to identify with a character who took the puppet everywhere, British accent and all, and somehow take him seriously. It could have been a disaster in less capable hands. However, the writing and direction were focused on the human elements rather than the inanimate object. Foster was wonderful as the wife and mother who clung onto any hint that maybe her husband was getting better. We stuck with her because we knew as well as she did that, deep down, Walter’s condition was getting worse as long as he had the puppet in hand. Denial was her greatest coping mechanism. Foster excelled in reaction shots in which she had to shift from one side of the emotional spectrum to another. For instance, the happiness she felt when she saw her husband finally spending time with their youngest up until she realized that trigger of the sudden change in Walter wasn’t quite normal. I wouldn’t necessarily have made certain decisions she took on, but it was difficult not to be reminded that she was an exhausted wife and mother and perhaps she needed to escape. There was subplot that involved Porter, very angry but a smart and sensitive young man, and Norah (Jennifer Lawrence), the valedictorian of their graduating class. Although interesting because of their atypical chemistry, their relationship was less powerful and less urgent than the family that was essentially rotting from the inside. When the film switched to the teenagers’ emotional struggles, I questioned where it was ultimately heading. Though the reward was present at the finish line, we received it too late. Perhaps if Porter and Norah were not always front and center, the material’s momentum would not have staggered. Furthermore, the heavy symbolism weighed down an already astute material. Images involving a broken wall, roller coasters, and someone floating passively on water felt forced. It might have sounded great on paper but it verged on melodrama on screen. “The Beaver,” Gibson’s notoriety aside, deserves to be commended because of its strong performances and its fearlessness in portraying depression as a contagion. That is, if gone untreated, a downward spiral was inevitable. A snide “Get over it” doesn’t help anybody.

Carnage


Carnage (2011)
★★ / ★★★★

In the opening sequence of “Carnage,” directed by Roman Polanski, we observed a group of kids interacting at a park. As one kid walked away from a group, obviously upset, the leader of the group followed. The former kid turned around suddenly and smacked the latter in the face with a long stick. The one who used the weapon was Zachary and the one who ended up on the ground was Ethan. Penelope (Jodie Foster) and Michael (John C. Reilly), Ethan’s parents, invited Nancy (Kate Winslet) and Alan (Christoph Waltz), Zachary’s parents, in their home to discuss, in a calm and friendly way, the issue and what should be done next. Initially, everyone was as serene as a kettle of full of water recently put on a stove to boil. But as the parents spent more time together, they began to turn against one another until the issues they began to discuss were no longer related to the conflict between their children. Based on a play called “Le Dieu du carnage” by Yasmina Reza, for a film packed with four excellent and versatile comedic and dramatic actors, it ended up only slightly comedic and barely dramatic. While nuance in the acting was present, I felt as though there was nothing underneath the surface emotions. Having an experience with working with kids and dealing with equally difficult parents, I can vouch that these people were caricatures. Perhaps they were supposed to be, fine, but it seemed as though Polanski neglected to provide his audience multiple angles of each character so that we would be forced to recognize our parents, or even ourselves, in them. While parents may be as self-centered and sensitive as their children, not for one second did I believe that an adult, after being insulted several times, directly and indirectly, would decide not to flee the situation as quickly as possible. Penelope delivered sententious speeches about how much she loved the history of Africa and how she claimed to understand Africa’s suffering. Nancy felt very ill. Michael kept making jokes in order to palliate the increasing unhappiness. Alan was programmed to pick up his cell phone every time it rang. Didn’t it occur to any of them that it just wasn’t worth it? If I’m talking to someone and it’s obvious that my words are going in one ear and out the other, I’ll feel compelled to no longer speak. I’m not going to waste my time trying to get through to someone who’s too stubborn to consider what I have to say. Deep down, Penelope and Michael felt like Nancy and Alan just didn’t care that their child picked up a weapon and struck another person. The very act had a lot of social, emotional, and psychological implications yet none of them were explored. I argue that if they had been explored, the last shot would have been more powerful. Because the screenplay was adamant in remaining loyal the source material, the movie became asphyxiated by contrivances; I found it difficult to engage with it in a meaningful way. Most plays, like movies, are successful because they make the audiences feel something. Since my emotions remained rather neutral, except for a few snickers here and there, I felt the material did not translate to the big screen. What special quality did this picture have that the play did not? The yelling, screaming, and bickering were aimed, I think, to distract us from its insipidity.

A Very Long Engagement


A Very Long Engagement (2004)
★★★ / ★★★★

Mathilde (Audrey Tautou) wouldn’t accept that Manech (Gaspard Ulliel), her fiancé, could possibly have died in the trenches during World War I’s Battle of the Somme. So she hired a private investigator (Ticky Holgado) to aid her search for the truth. Based on a novel by Sébastien Japrisot, “A Very Long Engagement” was romantic, shot in a golden glow, full of hope and optimism, a nice change of tone from most movies about war. While it still featured the violence and chaos in the front lines, the picture had a habit of going back to Mathilde and her tireless quest to prove that her lover was alive. But it wasn’t just Mathilde’s story. During her investigation, she met strong women along the way who were similar to her in terms of their loyalty and the great lengths they were willing to go through to preserve what they had prior to the war. There was Tina Lombardi (Marion Cotillard) who was on a desperate mission to murder the men who mistreated her lover in the trenches. On the other hand, Elodie Gordes (Jodie Foster) tried to keep a secret the fact that her husband, who was infertile, asked her to sleep with another man so they would eventually have a total of six children. When a soldier had half a dozen kids, the soldier was sent back home. The film took a bit of getting used to because it attempted to juggle the brutality of war and the romance between Mathilde and Manech from when they were children up until Manech had been summoned to serve his country. Admittedly, the two conflicting ideas didn’t always work together. Having less scenes in the trenches could have been more effective. However, the lighthouse scenes were beautiful and it was the point where I became convinced that what Mathilde and Manech had was something special. The film came into focus when Mathilde had to endure and sift through other people’s versions of the truth. I sympathized with her for the majority of the time but there were other times when I just felt sorry for her because she only listened to things she wanted to hear. It was as if denial was her only comfort through difficult times. She had the tendency to play a strange game of “if” and “then.” For instance, if the train she was on reached a tunnel within seven seconds, then it would be a sure-fire sign that her lover was alive. Her games often led to unexpected and slightly amusing results, but we had to understand that it was her unique way of coping in order to avoid an emotional meltdown. Directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet, “Un long dimanche de fiançailles” was touching and uplifting. Equipped with more than a dozen key characters and subplots, one of its downsides was it would most likely require audiences multiple viewings to fully understand how they were all connected.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1


Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (2010)
★★★★ / ★★★★

Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) is dead. Everybody is on the run including some Muggle families who are aware of the wizarding community. Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) is in the most danger he’s ever faced because Voldermort (Ralph Fiennes), corporeal and has gathered the full support of the Death Eaters, is desperate to get his hands on The Boy Who Lived and kill him–the act he failed to accomplish seventeen years ago. We see not an inch of Hogwarts because it has been taken over by those who follow the Dark Lord. Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) make difficult sacrifices to try to protect their best friend. The trio go into hiding in various woods and landscapes to try to figure out the location of seven Horcruxes, Voldermort’s shattered soul, and how to destroy it. Failure to do so means losing the war and Voldermort gets to rule both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. We know Voldermort wants to perform his own holocaust because he and his followers believe that a less than a “pure-blood” heritage equates to inferiority and deserving of death.

Directed by David Yates, the first half of “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” is full of dread and sadness but is arguably one of the more compelling additions to the series. Radcliffe, Watson and Grint, more adult than ever both in physicality and acting abilities, were successfully able to deliver the emotional range necessary to make not only the happenings in a magical community believable but also completely engrossing. Out of the three, I paid particular attention to Watson because there has been rumors that she might want to stop acting after the series. I think it would be unfortunate if she decides to give it up because I believe she has the potential to be as great as the likes of Natalie Portman and Jodie Foster. In this film, she was able to fluidly summon the softness and vulnerability (Portman’s forte) in the quieter scenes and unrelenting toughness and bravery (Foster’s forte) amidst the chaos of flying curses and deafening explosions. Yates had a difficult task ahead of him because of the extended “camping” scenes. To be perfectly honest, when I read J.K. Rowling’s novel of the same name, I do not remember much other than the frustration of reading through well over two hundred pages of the “camping” scenes. While I did realize its importance not just in terms of rising action but also a key ingredient in terms of further character development and almost procedural-like analysis of how to finally defeat Voldermort, I could not help but feel disappointment toward the book’s first half. I was afraid I was going to feel the same toward the film, especially when it was announced that it was going to be divided in two.

I was surprised that I was actually perfectly happy with the final product. Sitting through an hour of seeing the characters in the woods felt less like pulling teeth than reading through hundreds of pages about it. The power of omitting unnecessary details became integral because it was done in a smart way. It was balanced with pace that aimed to proactively move the story forward while giving us small rewards along the way that ranged from the expected (events in the novel such as Harry and Hermione’s showdown with the slithery Nagini) to the unexpected (events not in the novel such as the scene when Harry tried to cheer up Hermione during the darkest time in their friendship). Instead of feeling rushed like Yates’ “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,” this film, judging only from the book’s first half, felt complete. Admittedly, those who have not read the book might end up getting somewhat confused. Since I do not remember much from the novel, I can relate to an extent because I wanted to know more about R.A.B., Bathilda Bagshot, and a handful of individuals Voldermort wanted to question about the Deathly Hallows. For example, during the most critical time, the name R.A.B. first came about in “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince” so, naturally, we would expect a relatively in-depth explanation about who that person was and why that person was key in the story arc. Instead, R.A.B. was mentioned in approximately two or three scenes and we never heard of it again.

Nevertheless, “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” is a wonderful addition to the franchise. It successfully breaks out of the formula regarding the characters going to Hogwarts, having a plethora of laughs, Quidditch and adventures, and saving the day just when they were about to fail. The three best friends being in isolation was interesting because we got to see them perform what they learned in Hogwarts over the years. When certain artifacts and familiar faces appeared (tell me the goblin imprisoned in the Malfoy mansion was not the same goblin that Harry met in the Gringotts Wizarding Bank in “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”), I could not help but feel nostalgic because the journey is almost at an end. At the same time, I cannot help but feel happy and excited because I have a feeling that the best has yet to come.

Directors: Martin Scorsese


Directors: Martin Scorsese (2000)
★★★ / ★★★★

American Film Institute’s documentary focused a spotlight on Martin Scorsese’s works from the 1970s up until 1999. In this documentary, we got to hear from Scorsese himself and his actors such as Jodie Foster, Ray Liotta, Paul Newman, Robert De Niro, Willem Dafoe, and Harvey Keitel. I enjoyed this movie because I am absolutely in love with Scorsese’s work but I felt like it should have been much longer. Just when Scorsese stated something really interesting like an event from his childhood that he incorporated into a particular film, for instance, the picture jumped to another work and left me wanting so much more. I’ve read about Scorsese but it was a much richer experience hearing him talk about his childhood and the struggles he had trying to establish himself as a director–a director that did not make movies in which the material was based on his life. I found it fascinating how he wanted to be a specific kind of director, a long way from his initial dream of becoming a priest. I also enjoyed the fact that Scorsese talked about every film and what he tried to achieve with each of them. Even though I have not yet seen his movies such as “The King of Comedy,” “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore” and his independent movie “After Hours,” (at the time I wrote this review) hearing him discuss the themes he tried to tackle made me want to see them that much more. The actors who he had worked with also said some very interesting things about Scorsese. One of them said that Scorsese was one of a kind because he sometimes said, “My actors are getting tired.” And it was easy to tell that the actors he used in his films time and again have a special connection with him because even though he was sympathetic to them, he had the ability to get great performances out of them. For instance, I was not aware of the fact that Scorsese actually encouraged his actors to keep going whenever they messed up a line or completely forgot the line–and such improvisations often made it to the final cut. I have a feeling that this documentary is just half of Scorsese’s amazing career. With movies like “The Departed” and “Shutter Island” recently attached to his name, I strongly believe that the thick-browed master has more memorable and exciting movies up his sleeves.

The Accused


The Accused (1988)
★★★ / ★★★★

This film is based on the true story of what happened to Cheryl Araujo in a bar back on March 6, 1983. Jodie Foster plays Sarah Tobias who was gang-raped in a bar despite having many people around that could potentially help. Some of the men decided to cheer on what was happening instead of putting a stop to such a horrific crime. I thought this was a terrific film because of how visceral each scene felt. Even though Foster is the victim, she doesn’t play the character in a typical manner, unlike how rape victims are played on films nowadays. She’s tough and a little bit rough around the edges but we root for her despite her deep flaws because her goal is to find justice for what had happened to her (with the help of her lawyer played with such bravado by Kelly McGillis). I’ve always had a problem whenever people say, “She’s just asking for it” whenever they see a person, especifically a woman, wearing revealing clothes or acting promiscuous. To me, that statement implies that that person is partly to blame if or when she is sexually assaulted. No rational individual, despite how one looks or acts, wants to be sexually assaulted. Sometimes, I hear that statement from my friends and it really gets under my skin because there’s a certain lack of sensitivity to the issue of sexual assault. The most powerful scene for me was when the film finally revealed what really happed with Sarah. It shows images and intentions that were not recalled by the witnesses on the stand. (Not to mention the filmmakers were smart enough not to show every person who gave their testimonies.) I thought that it’s really true to life because people tend to forget aspects of events right after they happened; some form false memories but some tend to remember the most important (or least important) details. When Jonathan Kaplan, the director, showed the rape scene, it was so disturbing to the point where I had to look away from the screen. I can withstand the most morbid scenes in films like the “Hostel” and “Saw” franchises because I know that it’s rare for people to get kidnapped for the sole purpose of appreciating their life a bit more if they happen to survive a test. But in this film, I couldn’t handle such a violent scene because I know that crimes like rape happen so often. Foster deserved her Best Actress Oscar because she was able to fully embody an atypical rape victim, whose sensitivity can only be found by truly looking in her eyes.

Desperate Hours


Desperate Hours (1990)
★ / ★★★★

This is the kind of film that proves that a talented cast means nothing if the execution of the story is weak and uninvolving. Mickey Rourke, Anthony Hopkins, Mimi Rogers, and David Morse’s characters are one-dimensional and annoying. The only character that I was remotely interested in was played by Lindsay Crouse. She was smart and I was at ease whenever she had a plan on how to attack a certain problem. Another big problem I had with this picture is its inconsistency. In the first fifteen minutes, it was established that Rouke’s character is smart and deadly, almost assassin-like in his movement and has an uncanny ability to find another person’s weaknesses. But in the last fifteen minutes, all of those qualities were thrown out the window; he almost was as stupid as his henchmen. Since Crouse is the strongest in this, I was actually more interested on what was going on outside of the house, where the hostage wasn’t happening, than inside. It’s not supposed to work that way because the dramatic core is the family’s interactions with the criminals. Instead, nothing much happens inside the house other than threats being thrown at one another and long moments of merely standing around. If Michael Cimino, the director, paced this film better and reshot a couple of scenes, it may have had the chance to redeem itself. Instead, we get an extremely slow-moving picture that isn’t even thrilling in the least. If one is interested in a much better hostage movie, I recommend “Panic Room” starring Jodie Foster instead. At least that one has an interesting premise and hostages that one can root for all the way to the final scene.