1) Persona - Directed by Ingmar Bergman, Starring Bibi Andersson & Liv Ullman
I'm a sucker for Bergman. Ever since I heard one of my idols, Woody Allen, claim that Bergman was his favorite director, I knew I would love his work, and it was only confirmed and magnified by my viewing of The Seventh Seal, Wild Strawberries, and Fanny & Alexander, my first foray into the mind of a mad cinematic genius. With Persona, Bergman brings something much different than many of his other films - a deliberately experimental fever dream-like story that cannot be summed up in words as much as understood on a psychological level that goes far beyond the limits of language. In his narratively simple tale of a nurse and actress spending a summer away from the world, Bergman captures more about the human condition, and more importantly how we relate to one another and project our insecurities on one another, than in the past 15 modern American films possibly could.
Even the opening sequence is more resonant and powerful than pretty much anything seen on the screen today, and the emotions it provokes and confusion it leads to only act to strengthen its purpose, engraining itself in your mind and lingering there well after the final, beautiful frame fades out - perhaps even further than you want, so impregnable are the concepts the film aims to attack. Combine that with stunning cinematography and absolute pitch-perfect acting by Andersson and the near silent Ullman (who can convey more in a simple movement than many actresses can with a histrionic, oscar-clip worthy speech - a fact which may be attributed as much to Bergman as the actress herself), and you get a film that is one for the ages, and rightfully so. It is a cliche, but I must say it: They don't make them like this anymore. Challenging, intelligent to a fault, and wildly ambitious in derailing audience expectation (or simply not caring what the audience wants, instead giving them a taste of what they need) Persona is an essential film in cinematic history, and one I must go back to fully understand, despite my assurance that Bergman is so much smarter than me that whatever I discern from his work of art will merely scratch the surface of what he intended to say.
Final Grade: 9.5/10
2) Blue Ruin - Directed by Jeremy Saulnier, Starring Macon Blair
Getting rave reviews nearly across the board, Blue Ruin had me more excited than I can remember for a definitively independent thriller from a director I had no familiarity with and actors I had never seen before. Reviews relating it to the methodical noose-tightening of the masterful No Country for Old Men solidified the fact that this was one of my more anticipated films of the first half of the year. Unfortunately, while Saulnier is clearly a talented filmmaker, creating tension-filled scene after scene with an impressive eye for simple yet effective mise-en-scene, comparisons to the Coen Brothers classic simply acted to remind me just how much this film is lacking in terms of narrative structure and even full-on credulity at times. Telling the story of a down-on-his luck homeless man thrust into a battle for his life after taking revenge on a man who killed his parents very long ago, Ruin suffers from its repetitive nature and, more importantly, stilted dialogue and delivery of said dialogue that act to completely take you out of the film, rendering the well-executed action scenes (showing impressive restraint in terms of the violence shown versus the violence implied) relatively dry, due to the lack of stakes felt and the lack of empathy I had for the main character. In an interview speaking about the film, Saulnier said he gravitated towards the idea of a revenge thriller because very little exposition was needed in order to understand what was happening. While the lack of spoon-feeding the audience is of course much appreciated, it also acts to make the film leave little impact, for it retreads similar thriller ground as many other films, without a strong enough personality to make it truly memorable. Yes, the locations are gorgeous and some scenes run with an unique energy that sets it apart from many others similar films, particularly in the opening 15-20 minutes, but ultimately the whole thing feels a bit weightless, and by the time the climax rolled around, I simply was not invested in what was going on: there was too little characterization, some of the acting bordered on mundanely amateur, and the tension established plateaued early on, almost like Steven Soderbergh's Contagion, which rose to such a fever pitch intensity in the onset that the rest seemed underwhelming by comparison. Ultimately though, Saulnier is a talent to watch, if only he could have someone else write a more original script and if he was not so set on casting his best friend in a role that while admirable to take on, required much more than Blair delivered.
Final Grade: 6.5/10
3) Joe - Directed by David Gordon Green, Starring Nichols Cage and Tye Sheridan
David Gordon Green has become one of the more prolific directors of this era and one my favorites, in large part because of his ability to bring artistry to the most outrageous of environments, perhaps best seen in his brilliant episodes of Eastbound & Down. His combination of dark, absurd comedy and intense pathos is unique to him, and combined with his "southern gothic" mystique, gives him a cinematic personality all his own - a special thing in a world filled with derivative or copy-cat films becoming more and more commonplace. With Joe, his follow up to the wonderful, very different Prince Avalanche, Green is at his most indulgent, with varying results. His protagonist, Gary (Sheridan), lives a grown-up life in a child's body, forced into maturity due to an abuse, alcoholic, incoherent father. Joe (Cage), takes him under his wing (as much as an introverted fuck-up can), and the two form a bond that grows stronger as the tension in the world builds. This description sounds relatively mundane and ends up being so, with not very many emotional beats surprising me, leaving me underwhelmed with the main story. That being said, Green is a strong enough filmmaker to leave indelible impressions despite merely satisfactory material - specifically in his characterization of Gary's father, played by unknown Gary Poulter - a deeply troubled man with great misfortune all his own. It is in early scenes depicting the poisoning of trees that the film works best - and shows that Green needs no structure to entice and enchant an audience. Combined with the rambling of other unknowns, all tasked to poison a forest (I believe the same forest used to absolute perfection in Avalanche) Poulter gives the impression of a man so upset with how his life turned out that he simply has to destroy everything around him. In the hilarious, tension-filled scenes of him arguing with the African-Americans in a dialect almost impossible to understand, Green is nearly at his best, using the landscape and blocking to depict the emotionality of the moment. It is when the script falters when Green falters, and most of pertains to Joe's story, despite Cage's best (and impressive) efforts to give the film a mind of its own. Cage plays Joe as troubled, brooding, but right-minded man who simply cannot keep himself under control - and lets his emotions get the best of him at the exact wrong moments. Similarly, Green indulges a bit too much, and the script becomes a bit too predictable - exactly when it could have separated itself from the pack - leading to the entire film to fill a bit underwhelming, if still beautifully shot, directed, and acted. Everybody involved is clearly talented, but at times it does not result in a coherent whole - a shame considering how all the talents coming together correctly could have led to another independent masterpiece by a director chock full of them.
Final Grade: 7/10
4) The Great Beauty - Directed by Paolo Sorrentino, Starring Tony Servillo
Winner of the Academy Award for Best Foreign Film, Paolo Sorrentino's follow up to his first American production, the mixed bag, eccentric to a fault This Must Be the Place, The Great Beauty is much less of a narrative film than an expressionistic piece of art about culture, fulfillment, aging, life, death, and the high-society in all its beauty and misery. Depicting an undetermined period of time in a journalist's life, Sorrentino leaves a mark on its audience through the coherence of stunning visuals, a beautiful score, an an unbridled energy that simply is too hard to ignore, and too charming to not be swept up in. Scenes cut in and out of one another with little narrative purpose, focusing more on an emotional and intellectual understanding of how all the seemingly random vignettes might fit together - similar to how a man, in this case the journalist played by Servillo, might try to build some structure and meaning in a privileged life that ultimately might have wasted that which makes us most human. From the high-society parties to the amazing museums of Rome, there is not a single frame that Sorrentino does not find beauty in, leading me to believe the "Great Beauty" of the title is not the journalists long-lost love (whose death prompts Servillo's journalist's reminiscing) or the beautiful sculptures and painting of a city left behind by most of the world, but life itself. For many it is stale, but for just as many it is magnificent, unpredictable, and absolutely breath-taking just what the world can offer, if only we would take the time to look at it. At times, the unevenness of the film is a distraction, particularly at around the hour and a half mark, where hilarious scenes of high-society art shows are mixed with lavish parties (undeniably enjoyable but ultimately not serving much of a purpose), and at 2 hours and 20 minutes, the film is far too indulgent, but much of this can be excused because the moments of cinematic purity and power are so successful at what they set out to achieve that you can tolerate a few extraneous moments. A bit more problematic is the semblance of a plot the film ends up trying to have, particularly in Servillo's relationship with a friends daughter, played by the stunning, quintessentially Italian Sabrina Ferilli, which builds momentum and ends on a strange note that leaves her fate unclear and unsatisfying. While we are whisked off to more beautiful landscapes and moments of intense reflection, I couldn't help but feel cheated by the emotional connection I had made (and perhaps to my own fault defined as necessary to the film's overall "story") and disappointed in how scattered the script turned out to be. Ultimately though, much of this did not matter, for the film will be remembered not for it's scattershot approach to storytelling, but its profound images of unique cinematic language which marks Sorrentino as one of the more defined visually artistic voices, at least as far as my realm of artistic knowledge goes. A reminder of a bygone era of Italian Cinema, The Great Beauty is the rare film that is heavily flawed but emotionally grand nonetheless, a love letter to life in all its glory, mystery, and occasional misery.
Final Grade: 8./10
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