Archive for the 'movies' Category



Different rules for the rich & famous? Nah!

Like many, I’ve always been intrigued by Roman Polanski’s story.  Born in France, but raised in Poland, Polanski survived the Holocaust by hiding in a barn in Poland’s countryside.  His father survived the Austrian concentration camp he was forced into, but his mother died at Auschwitz.  Polanski went on to become a famous and successful director of Polish films.  After conquering the Polish film industry, Polanski moved west to France and England.  It was in England that he meant and married the American actress Sharon Tate.  They married in January 1968, but in August 1969 Tate — along with their unborn child and several others — was brutally murdered in a house in Hollywood by members of the Manson family.  Polanski was in London at the time and was, originally, considered a suspect depsite the improbability of it.    

So, wow, quite a story, right?  Well, then we all know what comes next.  In 1977, he rapes a 13-year-old girl he is supposedly photographing for some version of Vogue. 

When I was at Sundance in January 2008, the documentary Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired was being screened.  I dutifully lined up to see it, but was turned away as were many others.  It was an incredibly popular film there.  The good news, I was told, was that it had already been picked up by a distributor so that meant I would be able to see it at a later date.  That date was last night.

The documentary contains interviews with Polanski’s defense attorney, the assistant district attorney who prosecuted the case, the victim, the victim’s attorney, Polanski’s friends (including Mia Farrow), a gossip columnist at the time of the rape case, and even Polanski himself.  The film is more than sympathetic to the rapist.

Polanski was charged with several crimes, including rape by the use of drugs and sodomy.  The victim, through her lawyer, expressed her desire for a plea agreement.  After all, she was 13 years old and folks were figuring out who she was; she was being harrassed and wanted to put the incident behind her.  The ADA stated he was not interested in plea bargaining, so the victim’s lawyer went to Polanski’s lawyer who also said he had no interest in it.  That was before the girl’s underwear was found and analyzed.  After that, Polanski was very open to a plea.  The ADA acqueisced in the victim and her family’s wishes, and Polanski pleaded guilty to the least serious of the sex charges: unlawful sex with a minor.  Apparently, the sentence he faced for this crime was “indeterminate,” which seems to me that it could range from probation to fifty years’ imprisonment.  This is where things go even more awry.  I won’t go into too many details, but will say this: the judge may have been a little wacky, a little corrupt, a little unreliable and a little susceptible to public pressures, but Roman Polanski spent 42 days in a state prison for psychiatric evaluation before being sentenced and that is all the time he has ever served.  The judge sentenced him to 90 days in the facility, but he was released early, presumably because he was not actually crazy.  Apparently, this really pissed the judge off.  According to the film, the judge had been prepared to give him the 90 days and then sentence him to probation, but because 90 days turned into 42, all bets were off.  Now Polanski may have faced some time in county jail or something more serious.  Though the judge still seemed all over the place in what he wanted.  Putting aside the oddness of this (90 days is perfect, but 42 is outrageous!), it still seems to me to have been a &^%#$#* great deal for a rapist.  Polanski’s lawyer tells him that he can’t trust the judge and that they can appeal whatever sentence he is ultimately given, but that appeals take time and he will have to be in prison during the appeal.  Now, I know nothing, really, of California law, but I do know that’s it’s not terribly uncommon for a defendant to be free on bond pending an appeal when the sentence he received was small, like the one Roman would probably have gotten (had he gotten any time at all).  I’m also not sure why Polanski’s lawyer waited so long to move for substitution of judge when, by all accounts in the film, the judge was not to be trusted by either party (when the defense attorney finally did move for substitution – after Polanski had fled – the ADA did not dispute the motion).  In any event, hearing the news from his lawyer, Polanski gets on a plane to France and has never returned to the States.  He can’t.  He’s a fugitive and were he to do so, he would be arrested.

So, here we have a man who, at 44, with an incredibly successful film career, chose to rape, drug and sodomize a 13-year-old girl and then flee from the country when it came time for him to face his sentence.  Now, all these years later, he is requesting to be forgiven by the American justice system from which he ran.  And people are lining up to help him.  The victim, it is said, now wants the case to be dropped because she is sick to death of it.  I understand this position and I sympathize with it.  But I’m fundamentally disgusted by the actions of this pig of a man.  He is unapologetic about the rape (having flounted his relationship with a 15-year-old in the years prior to the rape, no one should really be surprised) and frank in his admiration for young women and girls.  He was famously unfaithful to Tate and seems to continue to do just as he pleases.  His career was certainly not harmed by his criminality (having  won a best director Oscar for The Pianist in 2002).  All that has happened to him, really, is that he is not allowed into the United States — a country not his own — without risk that he will be rearrested, taken to court and forgiven in front of a camera.  Yup, that’s right.  The film ends stating that the latest negotiations broke down because — despite California’s readiness to close the case — Polanski wouldn’t agree to appear if there was a camera in the courtroom.  Yeah, because this guy is so afraid of publicity.

Suburban prisons

So I saw Revolutionary Road this weekend.  I was totally scared — fearing that it would be a modern Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, but I made myself go.  I watched the movie and was engrossed.  The acting was really great and I was thinking how far Kate Winslet has come since Titanic.  Leonardo was very impressive — he displayed a great range of emotions, I thought, and convincingly so.  The sets and costumes were just beautiful and it seemed to be shot on film that is clearer and crisper and prettier than those used in other movies.  And yet.

I didn’t cry once.  Or anything close to it.  In fact, I let out an embarrassing and unintended guffaw during one of the couple’s particularly bad fights.  Although I thought I was deeply involved in the story, I realized after leaving the theater that I didn’t really care.  I’m not entirely sure why.  Maybe because the movie was all too cynical and didn’t create enough nuance or something.  Maybe because I felt it was too dramatic and desperate.  Maybe because it’s ultimately just a tired old recycled story of suburban despair that we’ve seen too many times.  So, although I saw Kate Winslet’s pain and Leonardo’s inertia, I just didn’t really feel anything about it.

Craptastic

I don’t know how many readers have seen Benjamin Button, but I know there is at least one who colorfully dubbed it ‘craptastic.’

Now that it has garnered 13 nominations, that same loyal reader — our very own Kristin — has offered this additional thought: Benjamin Button makes Forrest Gump look like Citizen Kane.

For some reason, this has made me want to see it. It sounds so awful that I don’t know that I want to be left out of the joke. But three hours?

Globedy Globes

I thought the show was, on the whole, super fun.  I love how relaxed and silly everyone is at the Globes, and how they always get it done in pretty much their alloted time.  I also love how there are really no super boring awards or long speeches from people who shouldn’t be allowed to give speeches.  My favorite moments were these (in no particular order):

1.  Tracy Morgan saying “Lorney Mikes.”

2.  Tracy Morgan in general.

3.  Tina Fey and how she’s so damn funny.  I wish she would have told Christopher Hitchens to suck it.

4.  Kate Winslet winning twice even though I have yet to see either of her movies.

5.  Kate Winslet forgetting Angelina Jolie was nominated.  So awesome.

6.  Steven Speilberg giving a rather forgettable speech but not really caring because he’s Steven Speilberg and he brushed by me at Sundance and I will never forgive myself for missing him and I love him so.

My least favorite moment was this: All the shots of Drew Barrymore.  What the hell was that about?

Did anyone catch any of Bush’s final press conference this morning?  I found it rather interesting.  He seemed very, well, engaged.  I don’t know.  I wouldn’t say he was genuinely relaxed or waxing particularly sentimental, but there was something rather honest and unguarded about it.  My favorite part, though, was when he said that he didn’t think Obama would feel isolated in the office because he will be a 45 second commute away from a great wife and two little girls who adore him.  I thought that was sweet.  And true.

It’s Oscar season

Let me just put out there since the time that I mentioned that BoDeans song in my previous post, I hear it everywhere. I know it’s possible that my awareness of it is suddenly heightened, but I don’t see how that can be. I’ve been craving hearing the song for some time now and those cravings went unsatisfied. But just the other day I heard it pumping out of Anthropologie  as I was walking by, and I just heard it coming from the downstairs Milio’s when I went and got a soda. It’s like when you learn a new word and suddenly it’s the only word anyone ever uses.

Ok, that aside, let’s get started on this genuinely awesome movie season. Of what I consider note, I have seen Slumdog Millionaire, Doubt and Milk so far. If I had to pick best pic from these three, I surprise myself when I say I think I would go with Milk. I really enjoyed Slumdog (for the most part — what is it with Danny Boyle and toilet scenes?) and thought that it was an awesome tale and a great love story. It was pretty creative and neat-looking and the soundtrack accompanying the images was outstanding. The main character — I consider Jamal the Young Adult to be the main guy — was just terrific: all hero, all innocent, all lovely. And his acting was great — understated, patient and true. But, for whatever reason, the movie just hasn’t exactly stayed with me as I thought it would.

Then I saw Doubt. What an acting tour de force. Kent Williams, the main movie reviewer in the Isthmus, said that he thought the acting was a problem because the three main actors all had such different styles that it seemed they were in three different movies. With all due respect to Mr. Williams (whom I do respect a great deal), I totally disagree. I thought that Amy Adams, Meryl Streep and PSH all worked beautifully together to achieve a great piece of work. Additionally, I thought that the play was brought to the screen with love and care, but also in a very cinematic way. For example, when PSH gives his sermon on gossip, the movie shows us the unforgettable image of the feathers falling from the rooftop. This is an image that would not be feasibly rendered from the stage and it’s the very best things about film — you can do anything. Ultimately, though, I was disappointed in the ending. Not in the fact that Sister Aloysius got her way or that Sister James didn’t have to be there when Father Flynn gave his goodbyes, but in the very, very ending. I found it nearly incredible that Sister Aloysius — immediately upon telling Sister James that her lie had confirmed for her her own truth — would break down into tears expressing her doubts. I just didn’t buy it. And I don’t think it was necessary. While she was a cold woman with an unmalleable agenda, she was not a one-dimensional character that the audience needed to see some form of humanity in. That was amply demostrated, I thought, by her talk with Donald Miller’s mother. As she struggles to understand what Mrs. Miller is telling her, we can see in her eyes that while she doesn’t like it, she knows the world isn’t so black and white. I don’t know: for me, it just didn’t make a lot of sense.

Then I saw Milk. I forced myself to see it. I admit, I was not keen on it. Ever since Sean Penn did I Am Sam, I haven’t been very interested in him. But since it’s award season and I knew I’d be asked if I saw it and, if I hadn’t, I’d be inundated with the age-old, “You HAVE to”s that I decided to suck it up and sit down and watch. Oh dear. I LOVED it. I thought that Sean Penn was sheer genius. He was loving without being sappy, funny without being cheesy and charming with all the sincerity in the world. And I thought James Franco gave an outstanding performance — subtle and smiley. The scene in which he shoos out all of the campaign workers and insists that he and Harvey have dinner may have been my favorite scene this movie season (I know — still lots to see). It felt so emotional, compassionate and loving to me. It felt honest and not forced. Like the whole film, really. I also liked that Dan White’s motivations were not really explored, but just gently suggested (is he just struggling to make ends meet? is he in the closet? is he just a bigot? is he just lost?). Because we don’t know what his thinking really was, I think it best not to draft a theory and make the man’s actions fit that theory, but instead to lay it out for the audience: this is who he was to those around him; we don’t know why he did what he did; your guess is as good as mine.  And as far as a cinematic piece of film goes, I thought it lovely.  I loved looking at Penn’s and Franco’s faces close-up — seeing the lines from both stress and smiling — and the candlelight march is about as haunting and beautiful a scene as there can be.  I just really embrace this film.

Still to see: Frost/Nixon, Revolutionary Road, The Reader (I am not into WWII movies but feel compelled — please tell me if I needn’t be), The Wrestler, Gran Torino and Last Chance Harvey.  Am I forgetting anything?  Because Kristin declared Benjamin Button to be ‘crap-tastic,’ I think I am nixing that one from my list.  Can’t say I’m disappointed.