Showing posts with label CONTAGION. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CONTAGION. Show all posts

Friday, September 9, 2011

Contagion

There's little time to waste in Contagion, Steven Soderbergh's latest, a brisk, nervy, globe-trotting thriller about a virus that takes hold of the population, so much so, that within the first few frames of the feature, movie star Gwyneth Paltrow is killed off, and nearly gutted.  She's the victim of a highly contagious and rapidly lethal unknown virus caught while on a business trip to Hong Kong.  For the record, she seizures beautifully, and does return in crucial flashbacks.  It takes a bit to get a grasp on the film, rooted in technical jargon, procedural takes and blatant matter-of-fact realism.  Yet there's still a little tinge of paranoid, antsy exasperation that the film opens with a grisly death of a Hollywood beauty, and the Janet Leigh of Psycho effect is part of the thrill, and oddly pleasurable allure of Soderbergh's multi-layered popcorn yarn.  And while Contagion, scripted by Scott Z. Burns (The Informant) has little interest in matters of the heart, Paltrow's character for instance is given but a blip of backstory, it fairly intelligently and absorbingly dives into a very scary and real reality of fear.  And the idea of a film, especially one starring a huge, very starry, cast of movie stars in which all must keep away from each other, there's a sort of cerebral and smart devise that the film intentionally keeps its audience at arms length the entire time.  But this is also one of Soderbergh's most commercial films in quite some time too, and the big, sprawling and glamorous ensemble he assembled is part of the manic joy, as is the mystery of whose going to go next.  The film plays a wicked mash-up of The China Syndrome and It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, or in simpler terms a B-movie ride with enough hints of broader social commentary, should one be up for it.

The film just jumps in, there's not enough time to spare for a single opening title sequence, as Soderbergh jets his camera all over the world, tracing the first cases of the mysterious virus.  We jump from major city to major city, and start watching people croak.  He jets from the Center of Disease Control to the World Health Organization to the homes of families, as this thing grows with little idea of what it is, and how it can be stopped.  One of the alarming features of the briskness, is just how eerily real it feels.  As Soderbergh jumps from governmental meetings, and major scares like the bird flu are name dropped, they feel like achingly real conversations, and the film grows on our own fears of overblown hysteria, and the unknown.  There's even a nifty subplot involving a slimy blogger (played by Jude Law), who using his power of free speech spawns his own sort of fear mongering for financial means.  The main thing that keeps Contagion as alive and interesting as it is, is because there's the frightful sense that this could actually happen, and all powers that be of government, media and health departments could be undone by a scared and frantic world.  Like all good thriller, Contagion's fears are all reality based.

The neatest feat might just be the certain joy in watching someone like Soderbergh tackle a film on a large scale again.  After amusing and sometimes brilliant, sometimes less than forays in small scaled independent films, crowd pleasing director for hire jobs, the spectacle of Contagion is its strength, in all it's fast moving, agonizing intensity, here's a filmmaker of immense scope and bold chutzpah.  Like with Traffic, it's almost more on the surface that matters most, the film as a whole, and when dissected to the microscopic level, things start to glisten a little less.  For Kate Winslet is formidable and commanding as a no-nonsense CDC investigator, and Jennifer Ehle is disarming and graceful as epidemiologist striving to stay on step ahead of the virus she knows nothing about, just as Marion Cotillard is short-tailed as a World Heath Organization worker given a subplot that needed more than Soderbergh's fast-moving parade could provide, and Matt Damon's panic-stricken suburban dad take tries to provide a thorny heartbeat to a film that's best when it's in motion.  Other names include Laurence Fishburne as a CDC head and Elliot Gould as a doctor who solves a critical clue in the puzzle.  Yet there's no mistaking that this is Soderbergh's show, and the aplomb and visceral gravitas he injects Contagion.

And yet even with a larger than life group of movie stars at hand, and a few too nods at global hotspots (the film does cross into Babel territory a few times-- especially when Cotillard travels to Hong Kong to retrace host Paltrow's sickly steps), there's still a few quieter and even more unsettling tricks up Soderbergh's sleeve.  As perhaps some of the most haunting shots are of empty airport terminals and school houses of fleeing children, and the onset of very real terror...parts feel like you're almost watching a documentary.  There's a lovely and chilling little sequence in the middle of the feature of Winslet struggling to keep everything together, and without giving anything away, a brief shot very human sorrow, but again Contagion cares very little of matters of the heart, it's the terse, direct, technically mechanics of driving panic that Soderbergh and Burns are clearly after.

The upwards, downwards, sideways track that Soderbergh employs-- fans of his work will catch on quicker than others-- does provide proper closer to the tale, and while many might see it all coming, and perhaps even snicker a bit, it's far from the point.  The hysteric and menacing anguish of what fear can bring is the motive of the movie, and the nervy stylization of it here is practically contagious.  B

Sunday, August 21, 2011

The Soderbergh Experience

Perhaps there's not a more prolific contemporary auteur with a more varied resume than Steven Soderbergh, and that's just looking at what he has in store in the next year: three, maybe even four films that have absolutely no connective tissue, other than a huge, starry (and extremely varied) ensemble players.  Perhaps there's nothing surprising about that at all for a filmmaker that made waves, first in 1989 for exploring modern relationships and sexual insecurities and rightfully earned its place as a defining indie for a new generation (the film was sex, lies and videotapes, and won the filmmaker the Palme D'Or at that years Cannes Film Festival and went on to earn an Original Screenplay Oscar nomination and cultivate a fascinating reputation from actors), then eleven years later for earning two Best Director Oscar nominations for two highly different films, Erin Brockovich and Traffic.  One a highly respectable and rousing (if conventional, by his standards only) vehicle that earned a certain Pretty Woman an Academy Award, the other a gritty, intensely challenging ensemble epic on the drug war seen from the prism of the dealers, the bureaucrats, the addicts, and everyone else.  In the interim between his breakthrough and his second and third breakthrough, Soderbergh ran the gambit of nutty, sometimes surreal, tiny indies-- Kafka (1991), King of the Hill (1993), Gray's Anatomy (1996), Schizopolis (1996)-- anyone?-- to the critically appraised noirs Out of Sight (1998) and The Limey (1999.)  After the Academy acceptance, he seemed to be both iconoclast and company man at the same time with the enterprising (and lucrative) Ocean's Eleven franchise, playing alongside headier stuff like Solaris (2002), Full Frontal (2002), Bubble (2005), The Good German (2006) and Che (2008.)  Some of them worked, some did not, but the "keep going" aesthetic that's always been the foundation of Soderbergh's work is what's awe-inspiring and the ultra experimental vibe that's expressed nearly every time out is what keeps his films moving and interesting.  That rumors have surfaced that the famed, black-spectacle framed writer\director\cinematography (under the alias Peter Andrews) might be retiring soon seems like a shame and a loss.  If that's true, I suppose his making up for it by making a billion movies now, starring nearly everyone with a Screen Actors Guild card.

I normally reserve comment for upcoming movies because, really why be like everyone else and fan the flame of hype for something that's not going to reach cinema screens for months, or years, or ever.  But Soderbergh has always been a filmmaker on the move, it seems, so projects lined up soon, likely will have their day.

This September, he opens Contagion starring (gasp)- Matt Damon, Gwyneth Paltrow, Kate Winslet, Laurence Fishburne, Marion Cotillard and Jude Law in a Outbreak-style virus gone berserk film.  The kick, at the very least from the trailer and the marketing is that it looks like a sure hoot.  Quite possibly a state of Soderbergh doing on for them (the evil corporate bluebloods), or a pure popcorn, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World-style ensemble disaster film, or perhaps both, or neither-- one never knows with Soderbergh.
Whatever the case, and we already can surmise the outlook does not look good for Paltrow, this is likely the next must see film of 2011.


Wasting no time, Soderbergh's follow-up is slated for release next January-- an action\revenge thriller entitled Haywire.  With another super starry cast-- Ewan McGregor, Michael Fassbender, Channing Tatum, Antonio Banderas and Bill Paxton join the Soderbergh experience, along with Traffic alum Michael Douglas.  On first glimpse, the trailer seemed a bit too generic and a bit on the nose for a Soderbergh film, but again, this is an auteur whose films traditionally don't exactly have traditionally-backed marketing designs.  And who knows, it might all be a lark anyway.  Awesome poster art however-- surely not the final design...
It gets nuttier, as the follow-up to Haywire is potentially a comedy set in the world of male strippers entitled Magic Mike, with a cast of many a gay male's wet dreams-- Channing Tatum, Alex Pettyfer (model-turned-actor of I Am Number Four), Matt Bomer, Matthew McConaughey, and True Blood's Joe Manganiello.  That coupled with the rumored casting of Demi Moore (the kitsch factor of the Striptease debacle might be worth the price of admission alone), and this would single-handedly the strangest, most potentially embarrassing (or awesome) film to come out in some time.  Perhaps Soderbergh's main objective isn't to work with every actor living, but to work with as many Sexiest Men Alive as possible, surely he's set a world record for an Oscar-winning, respected filmmaker (Clooney, Damon, Pitt, now McConaughey)-- possibly he's secretly commissioned by People Magazine.  Then again, who knows, this could be his Boogie Nights...
That he's rumored to follow Magic Mike up with his long-awaited Liberace biopic (with currently attached actors Michael Douglas and Matt Damon), one may have to suspect that Soderbergh might just secretly be the most gay-friendly filmmaker currently working.

Whatever the angle, the most versatile auteur currently on good terms with mainstream Hollywood has, at the very least, my attention.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Contagion


Steven Soderbergh does Outbreak with nearly every member of the Screen Actors Guild in his latest thriller.  It looks fresh and fun, and far more genre than Soderbergh's been in quite a while.  Some may take note that the trailer gives away that Gwyneth Paltrow dies...
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