Having been a grateful guest of LiveJournal since May of 2007, I've decided for various reasons to move Less Hat, Moorhead to Blogspot. Check me out here:

http://mvmoorhead.blogspot.com/

Terry Gilliam’s The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus was the final film of the late Heath Ledger, who passed on before he had completed his scenes. To fill the gaps in the story, the filmmakers devised a gimmick by which Ledger’s character could be “transformed” into three other young stars for one scene apiece: Johnny Depp, Jude Law & Colin Farrell (the three reportedly then donated their salaries to Ledger’s daughter).



The result is clearly a patch job, but it doesn’t come across all that strangely in context of the movie, & that, perhaps, gives some idea of what a bizarre, mercurial work The Imaginarium is. Like most of Gilliam’s films, it’s terribly uneven &, on the whole, it probably can’t be called successful. Yet in its parts it’s so full of wonder & sinister beauty & freaky wit that it sticks in the mind far more than many more coherent films.

The title character, played by Christopher Plummer, is the bearded, wizardly master of a sideshow that rattles around the desolate riverfront of modern-day London, staffed by the Doc’s lovely teenage daughter Valentina (Lily Cole), a youthful magician & barker (Andrew Garfield), & a diminutive driver (Verne Troyer).

Their show consists of a magic mirror which can transport those who step through it into a shifting, surreal wonderland created from their own imaginations, sometimes with terrifying results. The Doc claims to be centuries old, having gained immortality through a deal with The Devil, amusingly played by a relaxed, muttering Tom Waits. The Devil’s end of the deal, however, involves Valentina’s soul, & the debt is about to come due.



 

The story, which is somewhat confusingly explicated, also involves a character named Tony, played by Ledger, who falls in with the Imaginarium gang when they rescue him from an apparent suicide attempt. Tony somehow provides the key to getting Parnassus & his daughter out of the Devil’s clutches.



Make no mistake, The Imaginarium isn’t for everyone, & it should probably be noted that despite its fairy-tale flavor it isn’t a kids’ movie. But if you’re a Gilliam fan, all you really need to know about the film is that it has many of the strengths as well as the weaknesses of his earlier works. It reels from one sequence of whimsy & pageantry & visual splendor to another. There were many times when I didn’t know what, exactly, was supposed to be going on, but there was no point at which there wasn’t something fascinating onscreen.

There’s splendor in the acting, too. Christopher Plummer brings a ravaged, weary-of-existence grandeur worthy of King Lear or Prospero to the role of Parnassus (the name, by the way, comes from the mountain in Greece that was traditionally the home of the Muses). Waits is all too elegant & likable as Old Scratch, & Cole, Garfield & Troyer are appealing, companionable company. As for Ledger, abetted by his three surrogates he managed to create one last portrait for what was, at the time of his death, a gallery of memorable characters that most actors twice his age could have been proud of.

A Very Merry Christmas to all from Your Humble Narrator, The Wife & Lily! Check out The Wife’s annual creation:

(photo credit: Moi)

This pic doesn’t remotely do it justice, I’m afraid. It’s possibly the prettiest Christmas Tree I’ve ever seen.

Here's a bit of seasonal Sting:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-vZ8FDvnW8

Here are quick takes on a couple more movies opening here in Phoenix today:



Crazy Heart: Jeff Bridges is entirely convincing as country singer Bad Blake, once a star, now a broke, drunken has-been. The movie, directed by Scott Cooper from a novel by Thomas Cobb, isn’t a downer, though—Bridges makes Bad a deeply likable wreck, & when he falls in love with a Santa Fe music journalist (Maggie Gyllenhaal) & her little son (Jack Nation) & tries to clean himself up for them, you root for him. Though Robert Duvall plays a supporting role & Colin Farrell sings impressively as a hotshot up-&-comer who idolizes Bad, there really isn’t all that much to the movie apart from the star’s performance. But that’s plenty.

Nine: Rob Marshall uses the same gimmick that he used on Chicago—the ol’ musical-happening-in-the-main-character’s-head bit—to translate the 1982 Broadway adaptation of Fellini’s 8 ½ into a movie. Once again, Marshall’s directorial touch is flawless, but this time the source material isn’t that captivating, & the result is a finely-crafted, well-acted bore. Daniel Day-Lewis is the Felliniesque Italian movie director who, stuck for an idea for his next film, ruminates on the women in his life, among them some of the great beauties now in movies: Sophia Loren (as his mother), Marion Cotillard, Penelope Cruz, Nicole Kidman, Kate Hudson & Judi Dench. The best number is “Be Italian”—it’s the only really good number, I’d say—& Fergie, of Black Eyed Peas fame, steals the movie with her lusty performance of it.



Sherlock Holmes: Robert Downey, Jr. & Jude Law play the longtime Baker Street companions in the latest from Guy Ritchie. Conan Doyle purists won’t like it, since it’s not really a mystery—it’s more of a swashbuckling buddy picture, wired up with Ritchie’s feverish, forward-lunging style. But the stars are charming company, & there’s real visual imagination both in the design & the imagery. The script doesn’t shy away from the same-sex-marriage aspects of the Holmes-Watson relationship, though it isn’t (apparently) sexual or romantic—Holmes is plainly & spitefully jealous over Watson’s intention to get married (to Kelly Reilly; who could blame him?) & move out. It’s a flashy, silly film, but I had a blast watching it.

By the way, if you’re in a Holmesian mood but don’t care to brave the multiplex on opening day, the ever-marvelous Turner Classic Moviers is showing a marathon of Holmes movies today, starting at 6 pm (Phoenix time). Selections include Billy Wilder's 1970 The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, & the moody 1939 Basil Rathbone/Nigel Bruce version of Hound of the Baskervilles.

Details:

http://www.tcm.com/index.jsp

For the last few weeks I’ve been cramming, watching movies I hadn’t yet caught up with in anticipation of the Phoenix Film Critics Society Awards vote I had to cast this past weekend (see Tuesday’s posting for the PFCS award winners). So here is a quick tour through some of what I’ve seen:

Fantastic Mr. Fox: Lots of George Clooney this year. He’s triumphed with Up in the Air, & again, flawlessly providing the voice of the title character in this stop-motion animated adaptation of (& expansion upon) Roald Dahl’s book from director Wes Anderson. Fox is a daring chicken thief at heart, but he becomes a newspaper columnist at the request of his wife (Meryl Streep) when she becomes pregnant; alas, his larcenous urges recur. This stylized, sophisticated work is arguably not a kids’ movie—it’s for older or smarter kids, anyway—nor is it for those whose patience is tried by Anderson’s sly, low-key style. But I think it’s his funniest, most focused work since his great Rushmore, & the animation is enchanting.

The Men Who Stare at Goats: More Clooney; this one concerns a small-potatoes journalist (Ewan McGregor) in Kuwait who stumbles into an acquaintance with an oddball (Clooney) who claims to be part of a “psychic soldier” corps in the U.S. Military. Despite a superb cast—Jeff Bridges, Kevin Spacey, Stephen Lang & Stephen Root are also in it—an interesting premise & some weird & amusing scenes, the movie never takes off; this directorial effort by the actor & producer Grant Heslov is an unfortunate misfire.

Up: This dreamlike animated tale concerns a crotchety old widower (voiced by Ed Asner) who turns his house into an airship & sets sail for South America in search of the adventures he & his late wife always dreamed of. He’s joined, to his annoyance, by a little boy, & later by a big flightless bird & a sweet dog who can talk, electronically, through his collar. The strand involving the sinister explorer voiced by Christopher Plummer isn’t well-developed, but otherwise this is close to a perfect movie. Squirrel!

Julie & Julia: Amy Adams is food blogger Julie Powell, Meryl Streep is the redoubtable Julia Child, & the movie flips back & forth between the stories of their gustatory matriculation. As cinema it’s negligible, but Streep is sublimely hilarious & charismatic.

A Serious Man: The Coen Brothers do for the Book of Job what they did for Homer’s Odyssey in O Brother, Where Are Thou? Their Job figure is a ‘60s-era college physics professor (the excellent Michael Stuhlbarg) whose life falls humiliatingly apart through no discernable fault of his own. It’s a fascinating, painfully funny film, but my favorite scene was a Yiddish prologue before the credits, set in a 19^th-Century shtetl, suggesting that the poor man’s troubles may stem from a curse placed on his family by a genial Dybbuk, played by the great Fyvush Finkel.

The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans: An improbable movie—a semi-remake of Abel Ferrara’s 1992 cult fave, reset in Nawlins in the aftermath of Katrina, starring Nicolas Cage in the title role & directed by, get this, Werner Herzog. More improbably still, it’s really good—a highly imaginative & often erotic long-dark-night-of-the-soul melodrama. Cage does his thrashing, eye-bugging stuff, but in context it works beautifully, & there are scenes that you haven’t seen in another crime movie. The ironic Hollywood ending is slightly anticlimactic, but otherwise this film kicks significant ass.

Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire: Much of the reticence toward this film seems to center on its subject matter, the horrifying abuse of the title character, an obese black inner-city teenager—not any dispute of the story’s plausibility, just a revulsion toward its depiction. Of the heavy-handed approach of director Lee Daniel there can be no question, but you aren’t likely to see better acting in a movie this year, not only by Gabourey “Gabby” Sidibe as Precious but also by Mo’Nique as her venomous mother & by Lenny Kravitz & Mariah Carey (first-rate!) in smaller roles.

The Blind Side—John Lee Hancock’s deft touch for “wholesome” material enlivens this account, based on a true story, of the adoption of Michael Oher, a poor & uneducated black youth, by an affluent white family in Memphis, & how it led to a successful football career at the University of Mississippi & the NFL (he’s currently with the Baltimore Ravens). Sandra Bullock brings a thoughtful yet comic touch to the role of the impulsively well-meaning Mom. This is an extremely square movie, & though I enjoyed it, I suppose I felt the same reflexive distrust that a lot of critics did at its depiction of salvation for a black kid via the intercession of rich Republican-Christian white folk. But then I read the New Yorker review’s complaint that the film “offers a vision of anti-racism devoid of liberalism” (horrors!), & it lightened me up. After all, one of the commonest leftie complaints about conservative evangelicals is that they so often seem indifferent to, or even at odds with, Christ’s teachings on charity & tolerance. If that’s the case, should an example to the contrary be discouraged?

Me & Orson Welles: Zac Efron is the Me, a precocious (& fictitious) kid who stumbles into the role of Lucius in the famous modern-dress production of Julius Caesar directed by & starring Welles at the Mercury Theatre in 1937. I’m sucker for all those legendary Welles stories, but even so I found this movie, based on Robert Kaplow’s 2003 novel, irritatingly formulaic coming-of-age stuff. It’s redeemed, though, by the performance of the amazing young British actor Christian McKay, who nails the voice & mannerisms of Welles. There are also amusing supporting turns by Ben Chaplin as George Coulouris, Eddie Marsan as John Houseman, Leo Bill as Norman Lloyd & handsome James Tupper as Joseph Cotten.

Finally…in memory of my grammar-cop Mom, I have to ask: Shouldn’t it be Orson Welles & I?

Phoenix Film Critics Society, of which Your Humble Narrator takes pride in being a founding member, has announced its 2009 Awards. Some of this list reflects my voting--I'm particularly pleased at Moon's award for Overlooked Film--while some does not, but there are lots of movies on it worth seeing...

Best Picture
Inglourious Basterds

Top Ten Films of 2009 (in alphabetical order)
Avatar
District 9
(500) Days of Summer
The Hurt Locker
Inglourious Basterds
Precious
Sherlock Holmes
Star Trek
Up
Up In The Air

Best Director
Quentin Tarantino, Inglourious Basterds

Best Performance by an Actor in a Lead Role
George Clooney, Up In The Air

Best Performance by an Actress in a Lead Role
Meryl Streep, Julie and Julia

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role
Christoph Waltz, Inglourious Basterds

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role
Mo'Nique, Precious

Best Acting Ensemble
The cast of Inglourious Basterds

Best screenplay written directly for the screen
Up

Best screenplay adapted from another medium
Up In The Air

Best Live Action Family Film
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

Overlooked Film
Moon

Best Animated Film
Up

Best Foreign Language Film
Broken Embraces

Best Documentary
Capitalism: A Love Story

Best Original Song
"Weary Kind" from Crazy Heart

Best Original Score
Up

Best Cinematography
Avatar

Best Film Editing
Avatar

Best Production Design
Avatar

Best Costume Design
The Young Victoria

Best Visual Effects
Avatar

Best Stunts
Star Trek

Breakout on Camera
Gabourey Sidibe, Precious

Breakout Behind the Camera
Neill Blomkamp, District 9

Best Performance by a Youth - Male
Jae Head, The Blind Side

Best Performance by a Youth - Female
Saoirse Ronan - The Lovely Bones

RIP to the beguilingly beautiful Jennifer Jones, star of Portrait of Jennie, The Song of Bernadette & the juicy Duel in the Sun, who has passed on at 90…

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/18/movies/18jones.html

Though the young Australian Sam Worthington technically holds the title, the real star of Avatar is Pandora, the world on which it mostly takes place. In his first fiction feature since Titanic, James Cameron has created his own exotic globe of dense yet luminous fairy-tale forests teeming with strange creatures & mystical secrets. He’s also brought humans there, & with them, alas, dramatic clichés.

The indigenous humanoids on Pandora, an earthlike moon in orbit of a colossal planet, are the Na’vi, a race of tall, svelte, blue-skinned people with catlike eyes, noses, ears & tails.

The Na’vi are Noble Savages in the mythic tradition, a generally peaceable warrior culture that lives in harmony with the environment. They’re even equipped with an organ that plugs them into direct symbiotic connection with the horselike galloping creatures & dragonlike flying creatures on whose backs they ride.

The tribe has had the poor luck, however, to live in an enormous tree situated over a rich vein of the mineral that the human colonists are on the planet to mine—Cameron has rather cheekily named it “Unobtanium.” As a result, the military-industrial complex sends a spy to win the Na’vi’s trust, & this is the title character.

In the Hindu tradition, an Avatar is a deity in a physical body; in this film it’s a Na’vi clone remotely controlled by the mind of a human. The Avatar of the title is Jake Sully (Worthington), a Marine who’s been crippled from the waist down & relishes the freedom of his new Na’vi bod. Jake is theoretically there to assist two other Avatars (Sigourney Weaver & Joel David Moore) in research & to help negotiate terms with the natives. But he’s secretly there to gain military intelligence for the rabid Colonel Quaritch (Stephen Lang), on behalf of his corporate master (Giovanni Ribisi).

Bet you can’t guess what happens: Once Jake spends some time with the Na’vi & gets to know them, he starts to wonder if he’s playing for the right team. Getting close to the rather fetching young Na’vi (Zoe Saldana) who’s assigned to train him in the tribe’s ways doesn’t impede this change of heart.



Avatar has been much anticipated, in part because of its supposedly revolutionary CGI special effects, & indeed it’s undeniable that on a visual level, it’s a thrilling spectacle. The flora & fauna & landscapes of Pandora stir & delight the imagination. I loved the plants that look like Dale Chihuly’s glass sculptures & snap shut at the touch, the great thundering herd animals with the hammerhead-shark faces, & the big predator that looked like a giant Doberman from hell. The visit to the dragon rookery & Jake’s first solo flight are classically executed sci-fi flourishes, & so are many other sequences.

Yet for all Cameron’s exuberance, Avatar doesn’t quite satisfy. It lasts for more than two & a half hours, & while at any given moment there’s something interesting onscreen to watch, the movie still feels overblown. It could probably be cut by forty minutes or so without losing a major plot point or a cool scene.

Furthermore, the special effects aren’t as seamless as we might hope. While the “Pandoran” settings are splendidly evoked, the Na’vi themselves, though alluring in conception, aren’t always rock-solidly convincing; at times they suggest video-game graphics.

But the most disappointing aspect of Avatar is Cameron’s uninspired sense of drama. His parable-like plot about exploitation of versus harmony with nature is perfectly virtuous & admirable, but it’s also one-dimensional & unsurprising. Cameron’s formidable talents have created a Brave New World, but he’s used it to tell a Stale Old Story.

Assorted stuff:

My niece Kerri used to play football in Erie, now she's with Central Florida Anarchy in the Women's Football Alliance...



Check them out here...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNEvMEC9jRE

Insult to injury department: My beloved hometown of Erie is sure getting some national exposure this year; first it was thought by the makers of The Road to be a fine location for a film set in a devastated & lifeless earth, & now it's turned up in a Saturday Night Live sketch. Near the end of this week's show, the "Erie Pennsylvania Chamber of Commerce" was mentioned as one of the only sponsors the PGA could get since Tiger's departure.

This video kicks ass:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFM140rju4k

Here's a site with an intriguing concept: open debate...

http://www.debateitout.com/

Finally, RIP to the ever-jaunty Bat Masterson himself, Gene Barry, who has passed on at 90...

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/11/arts/television/11barry.html?_r=2&ref=obituaries