LINCOLN vs. HITCHCOCK


A double feature!

I was having trouble putting together my review for Lincoln, knowing I didn't like it as much as I wanted to and not quite sure why. After all, I'm a huge fan of Spielberg and his favorite cinematographer Janusz Kaminski, I love Daniel Day-Lewis, Sally Field, and Tommy Lee Jones, and of course I have a soft spot in my heart for the music of John Williams. This movie should have knocked it out of the park for me, but it felt limp, slow, and overly polished. Then Hitchcock was released, one week later, and the two began to do battle in my head.

Both films are biopics, telling the story of a famous man. A biopic promises to show who this celebrity is outside of the public eye and on a close up, personal level. We should expect to learn something about that person that we didn't know before. This is missing from Lincoln. Daniel Day-Lewis' Lincoln, while certainly realistic, nuanced, and enjoyable, is exactly how we've all imagined the man in history class. This is a story about an extremely likable man, a hero of history, and a paragon of honesty. So naturally, I was waiting for the film to show me something dark and hidden about him. I was disappointed. We learn that his wife may have been driven partially insane through grief and that he had a rebellious son fighting to enlist without his father's permission, but there's nothing seedy whatsoever about the man himself. On the other hand, Alfred Hitchcock was a very secretive man about his personal life - most of what we know about him is from stories told by actors who worked with him. In Hitchcock, we learn about his creepy obsession with young, blonde actresses, his eating habits linked to his professional stress, and his extraordinary dependence on his wife, Alma Reville. All of this is pretty surprising for a man considered a genius and often called Britain's Greatest Film Director, and more importantly, it's severely interesting. Anthony Hopkins' Hitchcock is flawed, pitiable, and ugly. It's the first time I think I've ever seen Hopkins play a slightly stupid character, and it's refreshing. Hitchcock wins this round, as it makes a much better biopic than Lincoln.



Silhouette Battle
Both films have a considerable amount of production value, being set in a specific year of American history and portraying characters at the height of society, be it Washington or Hollywood. While they did manage to make Anthony Hopkins exactly match Hitchcock's famous profile, most of the film is shot from the front, where the make-up is considerably less believable. His lips look plastic, his double chin seems too firm, and he didn't have the unique gap in his teeth that gave Hitchcock that peculiar lisp. Helen Mirren does look very much like Ms. Reville did, albeit a bit more regal. Mirren seems to carry around the Queen's aura with her no matter which movie she's in. The actors playing Janet Leigh, Vera Miles, and Anthony Perkins dress off set exactly like they do on set for Psycho. In fact, they all move and speak like their counterparts do on set as well, lending a pretty hollow feel to the characters. For Lincoln, I couldn't tell if Day-Lewis grew those famous chin whiskers on his own or had them applied. He looks just like we want Lincoln to look, but he's messy enough that it's believable. This movie has literally hundreds of moustaches, goatees, beards, mutton chops, chin straps, soul patches, sideburns, and handlebars, every one sandwiched between a dapper hat and a three-pocket vest. The crowd scenes feel like you're in a hip Brooklyn neighborhood, but with less pink bicycles. As you might expect from a Spielberg film, the lighting is precisely sculpted in every shot, and a full orchestra scores each important moment. As far as production value goes, Lincoln blows Hitchcock out of the water.

Finally, I would be negligent if I didn't talk about how IMPORTANT a film is. Lincoln begins with a few black Union soldiers feeling honored to speak with the President. They quote his own speech back to him. They stand down in the mud, in the dark, and they are literally looking up to this charismatic, quiet man sitting on a stage with impeccable backlighting. We know immediately, as the camera slowly circles around him from behind to show his lined, thoughtful face, that this man is IMPORTANT. Hitchcock begins with a fat man in a suit standing alone, looking into the camera, and greeting the audience with a casual "Good evening." This man is not important. His appearance is comical, his speech is awkwardly slow, his sense of humor is off. The IMPORTANCE of Abraham Lincoln is the only reason Lincoln was made. It is certainly not a film about slavery; we don't see a single slave in the movie, and there's barely even one line spent on explaining why Lincoln should be so against it. This movie was made to bring the story of an IMPORTANT man to life, again, so we can all remember the nobler roots of our country and how politics used to work (the film was released on election week, after all). Hitchcock is a film about a film; an aging director wants to make another splash in his long, successful career and manages to do it by skirting censorship. While Abraham Lincoln's achievements have all sorts of ramifications for life today, including a black President, Alfred Hitchcock's success with Psycho has only led to the huge dependence of modern movies on violence to make money. Saw I through VI are the direct results of Hitchcock's work. Lincoln is undoubtedly the more IMPORTANT film, with an IMPORTANT director and IMPORTANT actors, and it will be talked about and referenced by IMPORTANT people for years to come, and it will surely win twice as many IMPORTANT Oscars as Hitchcock.

Ok, have I used the word important enough that it's lost its meaning? Good. Important is important, and this is a film for classes, historians, awards, and long discussions. But the bottom line is that Hitchcock is more fun. Psycho may have led to the deterioration of the horror genre today, but it's an incredible film all the same, as gripping now as it was in 1960. I'm in love with film because of the way it can grab an audience and coax them into feeling and thinking things they never do in real life. My favorite movies are those that work on this gut level. Hitchcock, while certainly not perfect, knows that it's a film and has fun with itself. Lincoln mostly feels like an episode of The West Wing without the zippy energy of the walking-and-talking scenes.

I ate mozzarella sticks at Lincoln. I ate falafel at Hitchcock. Let's see... While they're both fried, one is standard American fare and the other is an import from another country. Similarly, um, Lincoln was American, while Hitchcock came from England... Falafel is more IMPORTANT because of its cultural...

Forget it. This review is long enough.

CLOUD ATLAS and a Melty Cheese Sandwich


"Everything is connected." This is an incredibly fitting slogan, not just for this film, but for the state of the world. We are all so connected to films, to TV, to iphones, to social media, to web videos, to so many different screens playing so many different themes, that we have no idea what we want anymore. This is especially true of the team behind Cloud Atlas. And I'll admit, when I stopped into The Grind cafe to pick up some lunch on my way to the theater, it took me a while to decide on the Melty Cheese Sandwich, on toasted multigrain with some sliced tomato. There are just too many choices today.

Let's start by taking a look at that poster up there. All in one image, we have Tom Hanks with a tribal face tattoo, Jim Sturgess with a victorian top hat, Susan Sarandon looking like Queen Bavmorda melting at the end of Willow,  Doona Bae wearing a futuristic, sexy nurse costume, an ocean with a pirate ship, a field with a 19th century mansion, a magic blue cave, and space. If you show me this and say that everything is connected, I say "prove it".

The film follows six stories taking place between 1849 and 2250:
  • A sweeping historical fiction dealing with issues of slavery and racism
  • An intimate and dark tale of the hidden homosexuality of a musical genius
  • A crime suspense thriller about Big Oil's nefarious plans for an energy crisis
  • A British comedy about spunky old folks prison-breaking from a nursing home
  • A sci-fi action flick about a dystopian world where cloning is in wide-spread use
  • A post-apocalyptic struggle among the scattered remnants of humanity on a poisoned and polluted Earth

All the actors play multiple roles, with excellent make-up and costume work in nearly all cases. Of particular note is the chance to see Hugh Grant play a savage, tattooed cannibal, with fingers and jawbones adorning his armor. Not exactly type casting.


I get it, I do. We love multi-tasking. Why go see a sci-fi movie, when you could see a sci-fi action suspense historical romantic comedy drama? There's a lot of fun to be had in this film, particularly in the sudden, jarring cuts between story lines of completely different tones and themes. The problem is that each of these stories has its roots very solidly in one or more films that just do it better. Here are some possible inspirations, listed in the same order as above:
  • Amistad
  • A Single Man   or   The Reader
  • The French Connection   or   Conspiracy Theory
  • Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day   or   The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
  • The Matrix   or   Soylent Green
  • Waterworld   or   Mad Max 

Each of these films, maybe only because they devote a full two hours to their own specific genre, exceeds the stitched together pieces of their offspring in Cloud Atlas. The film is well-done, with excellent visuals, effective writing, and the high caliber of acting you would expect from all those Stars. But it is a scattered narrative, with the efforts to connect the disparate stories ending up clumsy or overly simple. One character in each story has a comet-shaped birthmark, but there is never any significance given to the shape. There is a romance in each story, but the love at first sight feels rushed and unnecessary in the stories that don't revolve around it. The strongest connection between everything is the same actors appearing in each time period, and you'll spend a large amount of time distracted from the film trying to figure out if that's Hugo Weaving or Halle Berry under all that make-up.

With all that in mind, the movie's impossible ambition is thoroughly entertaining, and the three hours does fly by. We love the idea of getting a little bit of everything rather than just a lot of one thing. When I ordered my Melty Cheese sandwich, the girl behind the counter asked me if I wanted that with cheddar, smoked mozzarella, goat, swiss, pepper-jack, or ALL OF THE ABOVE. This handheld cheese platter, this jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none sandwich is what I brought into the theater with me for Cloud Atlas. What a fitting metaphor... maybe everything is connected.

SEVEN PSYCHOPATHS and Taco Bell


A writer having his life threatened by his own story. A hardened killer with an intense emotional connection to a cute, furry animal. A lot of people getting shot in the head.

If you find these things in the same story, you're probably enjoying something by Irish playwright-turned-screenwriter Martin McDonagh, who uses these plot devices often as a way to explore revenge, forgiveness, and humanity. Seven Psychopaths is the second feature film he's written and directed, a hilarious, bloody, and surprisingly thoughtful movie. Taco Bell, on the other hand, is an American chain of fast food restaurants with a Tex-Mex culinary concept. 

Seven Psychopaths and Taco Bell are both based in Southern California, although the film has a much more interesting story. A drunk screenwriter (Colin Farrell) attempts to overcome his writer's block on his new screenplay, titled "Seven Psychopaths". He's equally distracted and inspired by his best friend (Sam Rockwell), who makes money by stealing rich people's dogs with his partner in petty crime (Christopher Walken). Things take a turn for the worse when they steal a charismatic Shih Tzu that belongs to a violent mob boss (Woody Harrelson), much like Taco Bell took a turn for the worse when they started using a talking Chihuahua for publicity. As you might expect, the lines between the screenplay and the movie itself get real blurry, with a lot of tongue-in-cheek  commentary on action films. Wait a second, is that Tom Waits holding a rabbit on the poster?

The film succeeds in achieving comedy through the tension of imminent violence, and this makes for a very enjoyable experience. While the movie is filled to the brim with blood and murder, it somehow manages to be really quite charming. The characters are all so human and quirky, so unashamed about their vulnerabilities, we have no choice but to love them. Imagine a Quentin Tarantino flick with the warmth and humor of a Wes Anderson film. McDonagh is more than willing to stop the plot in order to delve into a character's thoughts and dreams or build an unexpected camaraderie, making the people in the story so much more important than the story itself.

The only time I've really enjoyed a performance by Colin Farrell was in McDonagh's other film, In Bruges. (Well, maybe his trashy cokehead in Horrible Bosses...) Farrell fits the bill perfectly here again, pulling off the brash Irish vernacular of McDonagh's writing effortlessly. My black bean burrito, a new addition to the menu, was squishy and slightly damp, but full of flavor. Walken is comfortable and debonair as always, but we get to see a new side of him as he matches Rockwell's casual and childlike demeanor. This time around, I asked for my XXL Grilled Stuft Burrito with no guacamole and found it to be a huge improvement. Woody Harrelson, as usual, delivers a solid and unremarkable performance. Tom Waits holding a rabbit is every bit as wonderful as you might expect.

The weakest part of this film, and maybe every McDonagh story, is actually commented on in the movie itself: he doesn't know how to write women, or maybe he just doesn't like writing women. Walken's character points this out to Farrell's screenwriter (whose name is Martin, transparently), accusing him of killing all the women off before they ever say anything for themselves. "It's a tough world for women," Farrell says, to which Walken responds, "Sure, it's a tough world for women, but the women I know can at least string two sentences together." True to his own criticism, the female characters in this story have nearly nothing to do with the story at all, and those ladies up there on the poster are just there for sex appeal. Each of them has less than ten lines, and they're both nearly naked at some point in the film. The Shih Tzu gets more screen time than those two put together.

Taco Bell is cheap, filling, and consistent, always delivering the same quality of food and slightly nauseous feeling afterward no matter which location you visit. Seven Psychopaths is fun, fast-paced, and way smarter than any other movie you can find with a similar number of bullet wounds to the head. It makes light-hearted fun of the conventions of action films throughout the script, but the deepest question it asks is why everything always has to end in a shoot-out. Wouldn't it be nice, McDonagh asks through his onscreen Martin, if everyone could just walk away with their lives and talk things over?

And then the movie ends with a shoot-out. Way to think outside the bun, McDonagh.