Worth a Look

I pray everyone had an enjoyable and relaxing Christmas break. I imagine a number of you, like me, are back at work for the next three days (the un-productivity of which may well set new standards for lost hours). If that is the case, my condolences.

Who else remembers the days when we would have nearly a month off for Christmas? At my former job we did a good deal of business with Ireland (our sister plant was in Galway) and the workflow came close to a complete standstill from December 1 to January 3. The corporate world takes the whole month off over there. I originally suspected this phenomenon was limited to the tiny, drunken island. But recently, while waiting for a flight out of LAX, I met a woman from Australia who was traveling for a month because Australia doesn’t work during the holidays either.

In other words, we’re getting screwed.

On a brighter note, I took advantage of the weekend to catch a couple of flicks I’d been wanting to see and I’ll give both glowing endorsements.

The first was Charlie Wilson’s War, the story of the rogue congressman (Tom Hanks) who, at the prodding of a wealthy socialite (Julia Roberts), managed to secure the funding that enabled the Afghan mujahideen to defeat the Soviet occupation during the ‘80s.

The film offers a fascinating look at history that has for the most part flown under the radar. I knew very little about Charlie Wilson going in (and why would I? He was a nobody politician from Texas), but now see that, despite his faults (womanizing, drinking, drug using…maybe), his impact on the last 25 years of American history are arguably unparalleled. Consider that he was solely responsible for arming and training the men who would become Al Qaeda. And that to a certain extent he saw it coming (I’d say more, but I don’t want to spoil anything).

The performances in Charlie Wilson’s War are, as I’d expect, nothing short of genius. Hanks as the charming and mischievous Charlie Wilson is what can only be described as typical Tom Hanks. This sounds like a knock on his performance; like he phoned it in. Not so. I mean to say it is the Tom Hanks we know and love (the Oscar winning extraordinaire) and that he is hands down (I won’t listen to argument) the best actor ever (dead or living).

Though Julia Roberts as the glamorous (if a bit self-righteous) debutante and Philip Seymour Hoffman as the volatile, underestimated CIA agent are more than capable of holding their own.

The second film I saw was Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. Keeping with Tim Burton/Johnny Depp fashion, this offering is dark, creepy and obsessed with curiosities at the fringe of society.

With Burton, it’s sometimes difficult knowing what to expect. At his best (in my opinion Big Fish), he creates peculiar tales filled with characters longing to belong. At his worst (Planet of the Apes), he creates films where plot takes a back seat to spectacle. It’s impossible to deny his ability as a visual filmmaker, or the unique style that he has created and may as well copyright, but to say he can be inconsistent is somewhat of an understatement.

With this adaptation of the Broadway musical, Burton is at his absolute best. Every scene is a visual masterpiece, stunning in both artistic composition and brooding emotion. The London he creates is terrifying in its shadows, merciless in its squalor, and splendid in all its filth.

Johnny Depp as the vengefully murderous barber is seething in his wrath; his obsession with revenge permeates every word, every glance. He is not a natural Broadway singer, but that suits this role just fine. His rock tenor boils over with anger, making his hatred palpable. Helena Bonham Carter (Burton’s wife, and also not a natural singer) embodies the role of the lonely, desperate pie maker with a spot on slumming accent and a visible longing in her eyes.

Perhaps most impressive, Burton manages to make this musical subdued, intimate. I usually find that musicals adapted for the screen are overdone and silly. Grandiosity is fine on stage because the audience is further removed from the action. But in film we are invited to wander amongst the characters. It can be disarming if they inexplicably break out into song. Not so in Sweeney Todd. By avoiding any chorus line sing-along type scenes, Burton focuses on the story and the development of emotional tension. He ends up with a taut, character driven film in which the style beautifully serves, but never overwhelms, the flow of the story.

As a disclaimer, Sweeney Todd is almost overwhelmingly bloody. Burton has washed most of the color out of the film, rendering it nearly black and white. Yet the blood is a vibrant, startling red. When Mr. Todd takes his first victim, and the screen is filled with ruby, viscous liquid, be warned: you may be disturbed.

Thanks for reading.