Avengers: Age of Ultron

Avengers: Age of Ultron officially kicks off the summer movie season.  Box office records for Marvel's eleventh entry to its venerable cinematic universe are insured.  After all, the Marvel brand is such a finely oiled, storm-weathered machine that it's nearly irrelevant to put much serious thought or intellectual weight over whether or not the movies themselves are good or bad.  Analysis is besides the point-- the approval ratings and billion dollar global business dictates Hollywood investments rather than artfulness, originality and aesthetic value.  This may sound horribly cynical-- the corporatist, overstuffed Age of Ultron can't not be iced with a little cynicism-- but that's certainly not meant to imply that there aren't pleasures to be found in Joss Whedon's second go as captain of the ship.  Nor is it meant to imply that there shouldn't be a place in the cinematic marketplace for the adventures of this rag-tag group of superhero misfits-- Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Captain America (Chris Evans), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner)-- learning how to form a team.  There's value in that, just as there is in Richard Linklater's effortlessly insightful 18-year spanning Before-trilogy.  I just wish slightly more people flocked to the latter and slightly less blathered endlessly at the former.

Hiring Whedon was Marvel's smartest move.  When he came aboard to write and direct the first Avengers, the Marvel universe was still an unsteady, risky venture.  Yet with Whedon's verve as a writer and willingness to work within the iron-clad Marvel infrastructure as a director, it was clear way before the iconic 360 money shot near the end of the 2012 film that franchise/brand was going to take over the world (whilst simultaneously showing the destruction of it in every movie).  Whedon already established on the great television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer a way to deconstruct, mold and sharpen genre pieces by attaching humanity, levity and relatable anguish while still respecting and holding true its mythology.  The first Avengers film was hardly a work of art but it was zesty and chock full of small, human-sized moments to savor on thanks to Whedon's sharp one-liners and gift with performers.  Avengers: Age of Ultron at times feels like a heated divide between Whedon's untethered imagination and Marvel's eternal task to retain the status quo.  Which again, isn't to say the movie is altogether bad (devotees will probably be happy, agnostics may continue to shrug), but perhaps marks a blessing that Whedon is handing directorial duties moving forward.

Godzilla

Gareth Edwards' Godzilla did something few recent films, especially epically budgeted summertime beasts, have managed to do...it surprised me.  In this increasingly homogenized, made-by-committee-Hollywood-blockbuster-filmmaking-of-now culture, there's become a routine formula of what to expect to see on the screen.  There's running climaxes, the expected strokes of the musical score and the typical beats of propulsion and exposition to keep it going and going and going, hopefully ending with enough of hook so that we will all return for more and more and more.  And then return again for the eventual reboot (what a hideous word.)  The machine keeps rolling, but this latest version of Godzilla, while totally within the franchise filmmaking game, plays almost at odds with the contemporary summer blockbuster structure-- it's almost anachronistic and plays as something not made by committee but by an imaginative, resourceful and singular artist looking to share a bustling and joyful artistic expression.  That this such expression involves monster vs. monster attack scenes matter not at all.

It's rather amazing that Edwards got the gig at all, considering he has but one feature film to name-- the micro-budgeted (approximately $500,000) 2010 import Monsters, but he proves just the right director to be tasked with a $160 million property, infusing a gorgeously rendered, humanistic design to the monster bash.  It would be silly to call his Godzilla a master stroke of artistry, but it sets a high water mark for the impending summer assault season.  It would also be silly to invite cinematic comparisons, but for a film that adorns its influences proudly and mightily, perhaps not as reductive a call as typically.  For this Godzilla of 2014, is in my eyes, the best summertime escapism since 2011's Rise of the Planet of the Apes.  The comparison is apt, as both film reshaped and gathered from the dust of properties that long ago were disregarded by the pop cultural mass and surprised with an astonishingly visual ingenuity and uniquely sharpened sense of popcorn utopia.  Both film evoked a child-like sense of wonder and wealth of imagination and glints of awe because they weaved surprising joy amidst all the bombast and (presumed) studio notes...plus they both pretty much (digitally) destroyed the tony city of San Francisco in the process.  Yet, for even greater measure, Edwards cites and rests his Godzilla on the great Spielbergian treats of yore.

A Most Unusual One-Sheet

What do you think?

Martha Marcy May and Oscar?

The Sundance hit Martha Marcy May Marlene opened in Los Angeles and New York this weekend, and to warm critical reception.  A few hiccups here and there; A.O. Scott of The New York Times was the highest profile descender, but one thing seems clear, that whatever one takes away from the murky, intentionally unresolvable film, its leading lady-- Elizabeth Olsen-- is a genuine find and prime elevator of the film.  The question is how far she will go.  She's already a recipient of a Gotham Awards nomination for Breakthrough Performer, which suggests she will likely add many more such breakthrough honors as the critics prizes start being handed out (The New York Film Critics Circle will get the ball rolling this year, a scowling effect that the critics prizes will now start to unveil November 28th), but the question is if Oscar is in her foreseeable future.  On a personal perspective, I'd love to say yes, as a fan of the film and her performance, the work is there, and it's wonderful.  Of course, Oscar doesn't work that way.  What she has going for her, aside from an outstandingly nuanced and perceptive performance, is Fox Searchlight, a canny awards promoter, even for films that read less than middlebrow Academy fodder (think Black Swan), and while the distributor has their hands full this year, as it does every year (The Descendants, Shame and The Tree of Life are all products of Fox, Jr.), this is their only shot at Best Actress; one must assume they have faith in it.  The other side is Olsen has an infinite media hook as the younger sister of billionaire twin Mary-Kate and Ashley-- the narrative of a smart young woman becoming classically trained and make it good on screen, despite perceived seemingly spoiled upbringing, will play well-- that in the press, she presents herself with such charm and sense of humor doesn't hurt either, nor does it hurt that she's young and pretty-- it's always a bit sad, but the performance in the awards game matters nil anymore.

The rest lies in her competition, so far her competitors might be:

• Viola Davis, The Help (the only way this doesn't happen is if there's a confusion of whether she's a lead or supporting, but that's doubtful-- at this early stage, she's the only lock, potential winner.)
• Glenn Close, Albert Nobbs (the film earned mixed reviews at Telluride and Toronto, but she's an Oscar-less legend working on a passion project-- as long as it isn't a huge critical\box office embarrassment, she's in)
• Meryl Streep, The Iron Lady (she's Meryl Streep, and the film doesn't need to be great, nor her performance for a nomination, it just can't be a joke-- sight unseen, it might be-- question mark.)
• Michelle Williams, My Week with Marilyn (New York and London film festivals came with mixed thoughts of the movie, but nice words for Williams-- she's playing a legend, which helps-- the movie just needs a big push-- that Weinstein Company is behind it helps too-- question mark.)
• Tilda Swinton, We Need to Talk About Kevin (hit at Cannes with wonderful reviews, but the film will likely be a hard sell-- set around a school shooting-- she needs the critics, as does Olsen; however the Academy must know by now they owe her for snubbing her so often.)
• Charlize Theron, Young Adult (question mark because nobody has seen it-- on the surface this dark comedy from Reitman\Cody looks solid.)
• Kirsten Dunst, Melancholia (perhaps not likely, but her Best Actress prize at Cannes makes for a nice FYC ad, and her reviews are the best she's ever gotten.)
• Kristen Wiig, Bridesmaids (I wish, but she'll have to settle for a Golden Globe in a Comedy trophy.)

Am I missing anyone?  While this year may not be the vast richness of last year, it's (on paper) not looking too bad...can Olsen make it in?  Or will Academy members be left chilled by the haunting ambiguity of the acclaimed performance and the foreboding film that surrounds it?

Martha Marcy May Marlene

At times ponderous, but achingly haunting and utterly controlled, the tongue-twistingly titled new feature Martha Marcy May Marlene, a hit at this years Sundance Film Festival (where it won the directors prize for Sean Durkin), is a demanding and difficult sit.  Tense, unnerving and, and despite very little actual violence, nearly as frightening as any recent thriller.  Yet, what makes the film pop is it's even more unsettling character study of a raw and fragile young woman, unhinged and unraveled in her own identity.  For a film with so much visual and emotional dimension, the most demanding part of the mysterious Martha is that it's not at all concerned with tying up loose ends, for all it's questions, there's striking few answers.  It inevitably matters little however, as patient moviegoers will be allured by the striking mystery at it's core.  Most striking, behind the fact that a film can look so utterly accomplished and masterfully paced coming for a man on his first try, is the altogether astonishing and graceful magnitude of Martha Marcy May Marlene's leading lady-- Elizabeth Olsen, who will likely only suffer "younger sister to Olsen twins" press releases just this once.

The film starts in action, a young woman is running.  From what, we are not sure yet, to where, again, we are unclear (she likely is too.)  Anxious and scared, she makes a frantic phone call for help.  We learn her name is Martha (Olsen) and the phone call was made to her estranged older sister Lucy (Sarah Paulson), who quickly picks up the nervous young girl, completely unknowing to what to expect to her or it.  Through careful explaining through seamlessly constructed flashbacks, Martha was taken in by a cult, a community of seemingly peaceful, free-loving spirits, whose streak of violence (both physically and emotionally) are carefully distilled through Martha's fragile psyche.  The cult, set on a farm in the Catskills, is ruled by a offbeat cad named Patrick (John Hawkes), whose soft, oddball charisma belie a Manson-like malevolence.  On first meeting, Patrick changes Martha's name to Marcy May, and is so coyly seductive about it, that she, and the audience, forget what a huge inappropriate invasion that really is; in essence, she's trapped before anything has happened.  There's precious little backstory for Martha, but what is surmised is an unhappy childhood, and lack of real family, a hint that Patrick picks up on and latches on to her with seeming comfort and compassion.  The films drifting from idyllic but troubled farmland cult Marcy May to familial but troubled Martha is what makes the film so enchanting, as memories pour out of her head, it awakens a haunting dreamscape for the film.  As the film goes deeper into the troubled, identity-less heroine, we are posed with more questions.

Martha has to essentially re-learn what it's like to be back in the civilized world-- her farmland beds were communal and preachings of Patrick are still engrained in her-- it's important that her sister is the first to hear her say "I'm a leader and a teacher" before we see the false-messiah's backstory of why she would have such a silly notion in her head.  What mounts is an escalating state of paranoia as wounder memories of her past begin to unfurl.  Durkin masterfully underplays this, but makes every specific sound cue or shot of Olsen count, which adds the potency and chilling final act.  Whether targeted or not by abandoning her "family," she is forever is doubt and in fear of always being on the run in some way, the wrestling of pine combs or wind or whatever forever keeps Martha tense as it evokes powerful and destructive memories of her past, and the abuse she escaped from.  There's even perhaps a case to be made as which world the shapeless Martha actually prefers-- it's not incidental that the cult-y farm is filmed as a peaceful, carved out Eden, versus the stiller and colder textures that make up Lucy's spacious but remote lakeside vacation home.

The most appealing reason to watch Martha Marcy May Marlene is the presence of Olsen, who in her first film, manages something completely compelling.  For the most part, she's soft and still, but distills so much nuance and expressiveness while doing very little.  She hits the notes of vulnerability, withdrawal, sadness and shapelessness with an almost alchemist precision and punctuated charm.  While under the spell of Patrick, she is seduced by his false gentleness, while at home with her worrying sister, she is shut down and spastic, the genuineness of both is eery and unnerving in its own right.  It's perhaps the stark exchanges with her sister that leave the sharpest impression, as neither are comfortable enough to have an actual conversion; it's what's unsaid that gravitates both Olsen and Paulson's performances, and what makes the painfully bluntness of words that spew out towards the end all the more pointed and piercing.  As for Hawkes, whose made a nifty career out of playing shifty folks, it's incredibly credible that Martha would follow.

What we're left with is more questions.  It hardly matters why Martha heeded to Catskills and joined her abusive cult, but the best thrill of the film is one that is best left unrevealed, for the final scenes of Martha Marcy May Marlene are terse and chilling, effective as both thriller and character study, and elusive to what shape this beguiling young woman will finally take.  In the end, that monster tongue-twister of a title is perhaps the most effective one for it's a film about a young woman in search of her true identity, not just with the world, or her family (real or fake), but with herself.  What matters more is the joy of the subtly unhinged work of a brash new actress, and the masterfully uneasy accomplishment of a new filmmaker, whose already set out a clear, fresh-eyed and hopeful identity for himself.  A-