Lincoln ★★★★

Making History, Then and Now

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Steven Spielberg is the master of revealing iconic characters on film. Think back to Raiders of the Lost Ark, where, during the opening credits of the film, Indiana Jones' face isn't revealed until he prevents a man from shooting him with the crack of his whip. Or how about Quint's scratch across the chalkboard introduction in Jaws? And I'm sure we all remember the fate of the unlucky goat in Jurassic Park, when the Tyrannosaurus Rex rears his ugly head. Spielberg has a gift for creating memorable imagery that resonates with us years after we've seen our favorite film of his. That talent of revealing memorable characters is echoed once again in his latest film, Lincoln.

The opening scene involves two African American soldiers talking to Lincoln (the perfectly casted Daniel Day-Lewis) about the hardships they continue to face as the Civil War rages on. The camera, focused on these two men, pulls back ever so slowly to show us Lincoln, giving him an almost heroic glow and certainly showing us that were looking at one of the most important figures in our nation's history.

More successfully than any other portrayal of this famous president, Day-Lewis brings humanity to a character that could have very easily been played as an over-the-top idealist. What he and Spielberg pull off in this film is nothing short of amazing. We see Lincoln portrayed as not only a president, but a husband, father, politician and, in some scenes, a normal, everyday guy who loves telling stories. We're familiar with Lincoln's success in creating the Thirteenth Amendment, and while much has been written about him, many will be surprised to see what Day-Lewis brings to the role.

For starters, the voice Day-Lewis created is much higher than previous portrayals of the character, which, as history tells us is probably the closest to how Lincoln actually sounded. In addition, we see his estranged relationship with his son, Robert (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), as the result of his dedication to politics. Furthermore, his wife, Mary (Sally Field, doing some of her best work in years), still distraught over the death of one of their son's, is more of a burden to the president, even though he tries to be as supportive as he can. In other scenes, we see Lincoln at his best, as he does everything within his power (bribery, persuasion, etc.) to get the Thirteenth Amendment passed in The House of Representatives.

The bulk of the film takes place during those proceedings, which has resulted in the unfair criticism by some that the film as being just a bunch of people talking. The script, from playwright Tony Kushner, is dialogue-heavy and sharp-witted, which somehow turns people off from seeing the film. Take it from me: I'm someone who could not be less interested in politics and I loved Lincoln. For those who know me, and who enjoy reading my work, that should mean a lot.

Because of what he does with the camera, Spielberg is the perfect choice to keep Kushner's dialogue entertaining and informative. We feel like we're a part of the political process in ways that, in recent years, many have forgotten about. This is how our country works and how major events within our government are shaped. Spielberg and Kushner invite us in and never talk down to the audience, nor is anything that any character says difficult for the less politically-savvy people like myself to comprehend.

Yet, if you still feel like you just cannot relate to the material, or if it's a film that just doesn't interest you, alas, Tommy Lee Jones as Thaddeus Stevens spends most of the movie yelling at those who believe the color of one's skin somehow makes them less than those with white skin. Jones is terrific as Stevens, bringing out the comedy in ridiculing others and, like Day-Lewis, showing the human side to a man who was seen as a radical for his belief in equality.

If Lincoln isn't a movie you want to see, it's a movie that you should see. It's easily the best film Spielberg has made in years and a reminder of why he's considered one of the greatest directors of our time.

The Master ★★★

Who Is In Command Of Who?

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master has quickly become the most theorized film of 2012. It's not interested in story, but rather, mood. Before its release, it was said that this film was Anderson's take on Scientology, and to a degree it is, just not in the way many are expecting.

The overall atmosphere of the film is disturbing: every scene hints at an eruption of violence that sometimes occurs and sometimes doesn't, creating a sense of unease and fascination. We feel this largely due to Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman, both entirely different characters, yet each one possessing a certain sinister quality that hints at instability. 

Phoenix plays Freddie Quell, a World War II veteran who brings new meaning to the word addiction, as he both an extreme alcoholic and completely obsessed with sex. His face is twisted, his body is bent, and his actions are menacing. He floats from one job to the next, first as a photographer, then as a cabbage farmer, though his primary skill in both occupations is concocting new ways of making his own alcoholic beverages. When he poisons an old man on the cabbage farm (whether or not it's accidental is up to the viewer to decide), he flees the farm and stows away on a yacht for the evening. As fate would have it, this yacht belongs to Lancaster Dodd (Hoffman), the leader of group called "The Cause". 

Lancaster sees something in Freddie and decides to take him on as his protégé. For whatever reason, Freddie doesn't run away from him, and yet again, the reasons are left up to us to decide. There's a connection between these two men, one that is so powerful, Lancaster's wife, Peggy (played with understated intimidation by the brilliant Amy Adams), takes notice and becomes visibly jealous the longer Freddie stays with The Cause. 

One of the many theories out there posit that The Master, more than anything else, is a love story between these two men, and to an extent, it is. Lancaster seems more aware and comfortable with his feelings for Freddie, whereas Freddie is a puzzle. You can't help but wonder if he's aware of those feelings and playing him for a fool, or if he's just too stupid to realize it. Thus, the question of who the master is shifts back and forth between these two characters, even though Lancaster is mostly referred to as Master by his followers. 

Freddie doesn't seem to need a world with rules and regulations. He doesn't fit in with society and could very much qualify as his own distinct breed of human. Yet Phoenix plays him so perfectly that you cannot help but wonder if he truly is the Master of his world, everything he does being a calculated choice in manipulating Lancaster to reveal himself as a fraud. Or maybe, Lancaster is the master manipulator, though much more overtly than Freddie. He has a following, a commanding presence, and most importantly, the power of persuasion. 

Anderson succeeds in making a movie that is open to a variety of interpretations. and his attention to period detail (it takes place in 1950) and visual composition are breathtaking. Shooting mostly in close-up only further illicits that sinister feeling in the audience that conveys something bad will happen. It's claustrophobic, jarring and very effective. Setting it in 1950 makes the film feel otherworldly all together, as this is a 1950 we've never seen before and one that could only come to life through Anderson's lens. Assisting him perfectly, as far as the tone of the film is concerned, is the eerie score provided by Jonny Greenwood. If there's one thing that stays in your head leaving the theater, it's the music heard throughout the film, more twisted than Freddie himself. 

In other words, The Master is different. It's unique in almost every way, yet somehow a lesser achievement when compared to Anderson's previous work. The pacing is off, the length of the film becomes problematic when the last chunk of the film feels unnecessary, and the shift in focus between both men doesn't fully work. Despite these flaws, however, The Master succeeds on its own terms. While it may not be Anderson's masterpiece, it's certainly unlike anything else you're likely to see all year.

Searching For Sugar Man ★★★★

A Detroit Musician Brought Back To Life By Two Loving Fans

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

It's safe to say that movies showcasing the talent that the city of Detroit has to offer are few and far between. It's a city I'm associated with as a result of my Michigan location and is often the butt of every joke. Every now and then, however, Detroit is recognized as a place where many true originals came from, a point exemplified in the terrific documentary, Searching For Sugar Man.

A Detroit musician named Sixto Rodriguez recorded two albums (Cold Fact in 1970 and Coming From Reality in 1971) that did absolutely no business in the U.S. His voice was reminiscent of Bob Dylan, his music had a very Led Zeppelin feel to it, and his lyrics were truly original. What's astounding is that while these albums failed here, Rodriguez was more famous than Elvis in South Africa due his anti-establishment lyrics during the Apartheid - and he never knew about it.

After the failure of his two albums in the U.S., no one knew what became of him, which eventually resulted in two of his biggest fans from Cape Town, Stephen Segerman and Craig Bartholomew Strydom, trying to find out the rest of Rodriguez's story. Searching For Sugar Man unfolds almost like a detective story, drawing you in with every new detail as the film progresses, and is absolutely brilliant as a result. The efforts of these two men, combined with other music journalists and old record producers, is truly fascinating to watch; a lesson in the merits of great research combined with outstanding storytelling technique.

This documentary, like Rodriguez himself, is a hidden gem among the many great films 2012 has offered so far. It's an amazing look inside the world of the 1970's music industry, as we see the producers who championed Rodriguez as an original artist, and some who didn't really care what became of him because of the popularity of other bands at that time. It is also a commentary about the realities of living in Detroit by showing the detail of urban decay throughout areas of the city and, in particular, the stories family members tell about Rodriguez's life in Motown.

More than anything this is a documentary about hope, redemption and rebirth as it pertains to one man's omission from music history and the recognition he eventually received as the result of two fans who were inspired by the lyrics he wrote. At the time, Rodriguez was a symbol of hope for the African nation divided by prejudice and censorship. Rodriguez himself was cast aside for similar reasons in a way, somehow viewed as less than other talents of the time, even though, as you'll no doubt learn seeing this film, he's more original than all of them.

Rodriguez's story is very much the story of Detroit itself. A city forgotten and looked down upon by others, yet capable of producing original talent. I'm glad Rodriguez finally got the fame he always deserved but never expected, nor wanted. One day, Detroit may be as lucky as Rodriguez.

Rise Of The Guardians ★

Seeing Isn't Believing

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

A large amount of the joy I receive from the best of animated features comes from the fact that they all manage to bring something human to a story that, to the naked eye, seems like it's from a different world all together. Most recently, Wreck-It Ralph was set in the world of video games, yet anyone who saw the film probably recognized a version of themselves or someone they knew in at least one character. It's the heart of films like that and many others that make us love the possibilities animation offers. The worst in animation however, trades heart for technology, a fault that the new film Rise Of The Guardians has in spades.

The problem with Guardians is that it's all visual spectacle and very little story. Director Peter Ramsey seems like he's only interested in the freedom animation offers, delivering sweeping shots over rooftops during the film's many, many action sequences, and never allowing the camera to stay stationary for a moment's breath. What little story there is involves Jack Frost (Chris Pine) being chosen to help the other Guardians - North (Alec Baldwin), Bunnymund (Hugh Jackman), Tooth (Isla Fisher) and Sandy, or, as they're all more commonly known, Santa, The Easter Bunny, The Tooth Fairy and Sandman - defend themselves against Pitch, otherwise known as The Boogeyman who's voiced by Jude Law. Pitch has found a way to bring terror and nightmares back into the minds of children, growing more powerful with every success. His goal is to rob children of their belief in all of these characters thereby taking away the Guardians' power and being free to corrupt the world.

It's an easy enough plot to get behind and not much more than that. Sure, they throw in Jack's identity crisis (he can't remember who he was before he became Jack Frost) and forcibly try to make his story the one we're interested in, but he's the weakest character of the bunch. And by weak, I mean both in character development and animation. One could argue that it was the animators' point to make Jack so inhuman, as he's not even believed in by any of the children, but the animation is so lifeless that it just looks lazy. Whereas the other characters in the story, particularly North, have such grandiose features it's a shame they were not part of a better movie.

What Rise Of The Guardians ends up feeling like is the collision of too many ideas that do not fit together at all. I get that each of the Guardians come from different worlds and therefore need their own distinct look, but it seems as though attention and favoritism was paid to the characters the filmmaker's felt they could have the most fun with, in this case, North. His design and features look gorgeous, and the detail of the North Pole is different than most are used to seeing - one amusing difference is that Yetis make the toys, not the elves because well, they're not right in the head. Pitch meanwhile looks like something out of the art-deco era (which I actually didn't mind, except for the fact that it doesn't work within the film) and Bunnymund just looks like a standard Rabbit.

I don't think Ramsey was the best choice of a director for a movie like this (it's also his first feature) mainly due to the fact that Guardians seems directionless. There are simply too many separate ideas about the animation going on for the story to function well. The designs for all of the characters are so separate that they don't work in the same movie. I feel especially bad for Jack Frost, given that the premise is supposed to be all about him, yet Ramsey and Co. seem awfully uninterested in him. It's no wonder the children don't believe in him; the filmmakers don't either.