Showing posts with label Annette Bening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Annette Bening. Show all posts

Monday, February 6, 2017

20th Century Women














20th CENTURY WOMEN               B                     
USA  (118 mi)  2016  d:  Mike Mills              Official site

When you were born, I told you life was very big and unknown.  There were animals and cities and music.  You’d fall in love, have passions, have meaning.  But now it’s 1979 and nothing means anything and I know you less every day.
—Dorothea Fields (Annette Bening)

Whatever you imagine your life is going to be like, know your life is not going to be anything like that.
—Abbie (Greta Gerwig)

A film that attempts to be like DONNIE DARKO (2001), only without all the cool stuff, where instead everything is analyzed and over explained to the point of exhaustion.  While it’s something of a fairy tale version about growing up in America during the Jimmy Carter era, just before Reagan’s appearance, it all feels like an end to an era of innocence.  The question, is why did it have to feel so innocent?  And the answer is this is filled with cultural references about growing up in an overly pampered youth, where you literally have no responsibilities to speak of.  Hell, in this film, you don’t even have to go to school, as it cleverly reveals a multitude of ways to get out of going to school.  While it deals with adolescence, where in every middle class life the child is always the center of attention, yet in this life, the kid has no household chores or responsibilities, no male friends, never hangs out with friends, never spends any time on the phone pursuing the opposite sex, never does any homework or spends time in school, yet is remarkably smart, as if he was born that way.  The film simply leaves out any world of reality to create this otherworld that exists only in the movies.   Actually, the film it most resembles is Cameron Crowe’s ALMOST FAMOUS (2000), which follows the fictional life of a boyish young teenage kid as he follows around various rock bands as an aspiring journalist writing for Rolling Stone magazine in the early 70’s, where the experience is akin to an innocent kid gloriously losing his virginity by the self-indulgent and raucous behavior of rock stars.  Well, trade the women’s movement for rock bands and you ostensibly end up with this film, which follows the life of a 15-year old boy, Jamie (Lucas Jade Zumann), as he’s raised by a single mom who didn’t get pregnant until her forties, Dorothea (Annette Bening), along with the help of two other women, Abbie (Greta Gerwig), an art photographer in her twenties fascinated by the emerging underground punk scene, and Julie (Elle Fanning), a few years older than Jamie, but a girl he’s known all his life, which includes having sexual feelings, but she insists they remain strictly friends with no hanky panky.  Nonetheless, she has a habit of climbing into his window at night, stripping down to her underwear and slipping into bed with him, like an expression of sibling closeness, actually spending more time in his home than her own.  So basically, he’s a sensitive and impressionistic boy being raised by a three-women collective, suggesting this offers him a uniquely different perspective on life.    

Set in Santa Barbara in 1979, life is good, as there is no sign whatsoever of racial diversity, as this is middle class white suburban America at its aspiring best, where kids are well educated, live on tree-lined streets, and are on a fast track to success, as they can go to the best schools in the country and have access to the best jobs, where chances are they’ll be more affluent than their parents.  This is the world they’re born into, where privilege is built into the status quo, yet they’re blind to this reality, knowing no other world exists but their own.  The self-centered nature of the film is undeniable, yet the director’s unflappable recollection of all the cultural details of the era make this feel more like a time capsule visit back into 1970’s America.  While it has its quirky charm and offbeat humor, it also feels like a film out of time, lingering in an era that no longer exists, or never existed, really, where it remains questionable whether this has anything relevant to say about our modern era.  Contrast this film with Little Men (2016), for instance, another exploration of alienated teenage youth, yet it pulsates with a modern vibrancy that this film lacks, holding a more limited appeal.  If this film speaks to you, if you’re on the same wavelength, then more power to you, perhaps it’s enlightening for some, but the question is does it resonate with a wider audience?  Does it have universal appeal?  And it falls very short in that capacity, feeling closer to Captain Fantastic  (2016), substituting Annette Benning for Viggo Mortensen, adding feminism and the women’s movement for 60’s counterculture, where earlier cultural time periods have a hard time fitting into today’s myriad of modern era complexities.  Like the director’s other films, he tends to draw on his own personal experiences, from a 17-year old teenage angst story in THUMBSUCKER (2005) to being raised by a father that announces late in life that he’s gay in Beginners (2010), while this film, more of a tribute to his mother, is loosely modeled on Mills, born in Berkeley, being raised by his mother and sister.  While much of this describes the laid back California culture of the West coast, what’s missing is the pervasiveness of the pot smokers, as their influence cannot be minimized.  Instead what we see is a sympathetic yet existential single mom who keeps trying to figure out her son’s place in the world, who tends to be a bit of a distanced, but overprotective mother hen, though for his part, Jamie seems fairly well adjusted, where his absent father, divorced some time ago, is simply never mentioned and is not part of the landscape.

The entire film unfolds in a flashback mode, a constant reminder that what we see onscreen is already long gone, with various characters providing their own narration, though we largely follow the film on two tracks unfolding simultaneously, where we become more intimately acquainted with Dorothea and her son Jaimie, as their viewpoints comprise the majority of the film.  They live in a large house that’s being rehabbed, but in slow motion, as little progress is made, though William (Billy Crudup) is a handyman living on the premises, though his real passion is working on old vintage cars.  Dorothea and William both seem like leftovers from the 60’s, though neither knew one another at the time, so experienced it in their own ways.  While William is more of a drifter, not really rooted to one place or another, Dorothea remains rooted to her home, as it provides the security she needs, spending the start of each day reviewing the stock reports, rarely seen without a cigarette in her mouth, where she has a tendency to latch onto strangers and invite them to dinner, as this gives her a sense of broadening her reach without ever leaving her home.  Jamie is in tune with the quirky rhythm of his mother, and while she’s found a way to be happy and/or content with herself, Jamie is in constant search for whoever the hell he is, filled with plenty of insecurities and doubts about his own abilities, yet has a near mirror relationship with Julie, as they both tell each other everything and are always there to support each other, so there’s little lingering negativity between them.  Abbie is the other tenant, who easily stands out as the most individualistic and most in touch with the times, defined by her punkish exuberance and bright red hair, where she is perhaps the only one in the entire film who spends much time soul searching, so in a way, she becomes the real star, emblematic of the film’s spiritual center, as she’s the character most in the audience will identify with.  For some mysterious reason, Dorothea begins to think she’s losing touch with Jamie, that he’s getting away from her, unable to penetrate his teenage angst, so she enlists the help of both Julie and Abbie to act in a surrogate role to watch over and help guide him along the way.  When he goes out, his mother has no idea who he is, but they are often with him, so the three of them act as a collective nurturing force, all claiming to have Jamie’s best interests in mind.

The problem with the multiple voiceovers is the film becomes overly analytic, where there’s too much interior explanation for what’s happening, as the film doesn’t rely upon a plot structure, but is more open ended, yet leaves little space between the lines for the viewer to ponder what they’re witnessing, other than a recreation of the time period, as instead it’s all laid out for you.  For instance, as Abbie and Jamie attempt to explain to Dorothea the cultural appeal of the Raincoats, THE RAINCOATS Fairytale in the Supermarket - YouTube (2:57), she finds it mostly a lot of noise, as she’s a sucker for Bogart and Hollywood romanticism, preferring the sound of 1940’s big band dance music.  Jamie tells her, “Pretty music’s used to hide how unfair and corrupt society is,” while Abbie is more to the point, “What happens when your passion is bigger than the tools you have to deal with it,” claiming if the band was based on virtuosity, it would minimize the energy and detract from the open display of raw expression.  Part of punk’s appeal was its very limited technique.   While Julie tries to teach him how to smoke and walk like a man, Abbie hands him feminist texts like Our Bodies, Our Selves and Sisterhood Is Powerful, which he takes to heart immediately, amusingly showing how others in his peer group are not so enamored, especially when he suggests to a skateboard freak bragging about sex that his girlfriend might be faking orgasms, as he failed to properly stimulate her clitoris.  The next day their car is spray painted Art Fag on one side and Black Flag on the other.  Once again, Abbie comes to the rescue suggesting there is a deep divide between the male aggressive, hard corps punks like Black Flag and new wave art bands like the Talking Heads, who have an altogether dreamy quality about them.  While the cultural contrasts are designed to help him become a decent man, making this one of the few films that seriously attempts to deal with the current crisis of male anxiety in adults, looking back at the root of the problem, where one of the things the film gets right is capturing the interior emotional devastation in a mother watching her son gradually grow farther and farther away from her, knowing it’s a mandatory rite of passage, but hating it anyway.  Too much time, unfortunately, is spent searching for an existential meaning and purpose that simply isn’t there, no matter how hard you look.  While there’s actually poetry to be found in President Carter’s “Crisis in Confidence” speech, it becomes a prominent theme of the film.

I want to talk to you right now about a fundamental threat to American democracy…I do not refer to the outward strength of America, a nation that is at peace tonight everywhere in the world, with unmatched economic power and military might.  The threat is nearly invisible in ordinary ways.  It is a crisis of confidence.  It is a crisis that strikes at the very heart and soul and spirit of our national will.  We can see this crisis in the growing doubt about the meaning of our own lives and in the loss of a unity of purpose for our nation...In a nation that was proud of hard work, strong families, close-knit communities, and our faith in God, too many of us now tend to worship self-indulgence and consumption.  Human identity is no longer defined by what one does, but by what one owns.  But we’ve discovered that owning things and consuming things does not satisfy our longing for meaning. 

Cinema, which allows people to speak from beyond the grave in the form of home movies or archival footage, resorts to unorthodox methods in resurrecting significant cultural signposts, where we have the luxury to look back at turning points in history and examine what might have happened if men (and women) had taken the message of the women’s movement more to heart and instead of insisting on dominating the power structure, not get so embattled and defensive about the cultural message, which is really about sharing power and learning to treat people equally, suggesting the mistreatment of women is the number one human right, a view that was labeled radical at the time.  Evidence of male insecurity has never been more openly displayed than on our current national landscape, where the idea of treating one another with equal respect remains a deeply divisive issue that the nation has still not come to grips with half a century later, as evidenced by the sexually predatory and misogynistic rants of the newly elected American President, giving rise to the 2017 Women's March - Wikipedia, the largest one day protest in American history, joined by other similar marches around the world, where the best sign seen at the Women’s March in Chicago, January 21, 2017, “I wouldn’t want somebody to regulate my penis.”  Unlike the punk scene of the 70’s and 80’s that quickly flared out, women around the world aren’t going anywhere, and deserve to be included in any discussion about the future.  While the film is a celebration of a period of social history that gave rise to the women’s movement, it’s also clear that this remains a sadly unachieved political agenda, as women remain a distinct minority in any national debate, outnumbered four to one in the U.S. Senate, even more than that in the House of Representatives, and evidenced by the irrefutable fact that no woman has ever been elected President of the United States. 

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Rules Don't Apply













RULES DON’T APPLY        C                   
USA  (126 mi)  2016  d:  Warren Beatty                    Official Site

A lighthearted Hollywood romance that aspires to be more, where Warren Beatty comes out of a 15-year absence to play the part of a doddering Howard Hughes near the twilight of his career, as he was making the transition from a semi-recluse in Los Angeles to a total recluse in Las Vegas.  Writing, directing, acting, and producing the film himself, after languishing on the shelf for a few years, you’d think there might be some new revelations about the character, but Beatty goes all ISHTAR (1987) on us, resorting to the same comic absurdity with which we are already quite familiar, where his stumbling eccentricities are key to understanding his overly flawed character, where you wonder how this guy could ever have earned a single dollar, much less a million and/or billion dollar empire, depending upon how much his wealth fluctuated.  The narcissistic view of himself is so over the top that you wonder if Beatty is making a comment on the Hollywood industry itself, where it thinks of itself exclusively at the expense of all other interests, remaining so out of touch with the real world that it’s only real invention is pure fantasy.  Since Hughes is known to us today as someone who went into hiding, where few ever had the chance to actually see him in his final days, it’s only natural that he remains hidden in the opening 30-minutes of the picture, where we hear about him, but never see him.  Instead the story revolves around one of the many rising starlets discovered by Hughes, flying them out to Hollywood, providing beautiful individual homes, maid service, and a private chauffeur taking them to a neverending litany of acting, singing, and dancing lessons, where all were steered into the dream of one day having the chance to appear in one of his RKO Studios motion pictures.  What they all had in common was a full-figured beauty on display, the supposed female desire of all American men, where Hughes was the original Hugh Hefner, displaying the 50’s Playboy magazine mentality even before Hefner started his enterprise.  As described in Charles Higham’s 1993 biography, Howard Hughes: The Secret Life, at least partially used in Scorsese’s depiction of Hughes in THE AVIATOR (2004):

The appropriate actress would be given the use of an elegant house in Beverly Hills or Bel-Air, with a maid. At exactly 7 a.m., she must rise and take a shower and make up. At seven-thirty, the maid would serve her breakfast. At eight, a driver would take her to acting, dancing, and singing lessons. In the afternoon, she must rest or watch TV. Shopping was permitted once a week. In the evening she would go to one of six restaurants Hughes specified. She was forbidden to date. A driver would be her companion for dinner. … The drivers were told never to negotiate bumps in a road at more than two miles an hour as the jolt to the automobile might cause the girls’ breasts to sag.

While this reflected the Hughes rule, anyone failing to adhere to the strict protocol was fired on the spot, including the chauffeurs, who were instructed to have no intimate contact with the girls, with Hughes hiring private detectives to guarantee compliance.  In this restrictive, puritanical atmosphere of the Eisenhower era of the 50’s, a love story develops between an aspiring young actress, Marla Mabrey (Lily Collins), and her assigned chauffeur Frank Forbes, Alden Ahrenreich from Hail, Caesar! (2016), something that is strictly forbidden, but they sneak around corners and learn to live by their own titular mantra.  But initially it’s all eye contact, as Frank is assigned to pick up Marla and her overly possessive mother (Annette Bening) at the airport, learning Marla was crowned the Apple Blossom Queen back in Virginia, as he drives them to a gorgeous mansion overlooking the Hollywood Bowl.  It doesn’t take long before she realizes she’s just one of dozens of girls all striving for the same thing, each one promised a screen test by Hughes.  While they all come from a strict religious background, with Frank already engaged to a high school sweetheart back home in Fresno, not much happens under the watchful eye of her mother, yet Marla, the only vulnerable character in the film, has the kind of dreamy, wild-eyed enthusiasm and innocence that other star-struck actors wish they possessed, where her real intent is not acting, but writing songs.  Part of the comic absurdity is her mother sensing what’s really going on, indignant that no one has actually met Mr. Hughes, or had a screen test, believing it’s all a sham of some kind, as these girls are being exploited without actually having a chance to appear in pictures.  Defiantly, she heads back to Virginia in a huff, leaving Marla on her own, still tapping into her own personal dreams and ambitions, not yet ready to call it quits and head back to the University of Virginia as her fallback plan.  In this opening, Frank steps out of the shadows, another small-town kid with his own dreams, where he’s got his eyes set on some property on Mullholland Drive, but he needs an investor, hoping he can entice Mr. Hughes, if he ever meets him.  In his eyes (and the audience), Marla is perceived as an ideal, a paragon of virtue, expressing exactly the same kind of illusion Hollywood personified back in the 50’s, a good Baptist girl who doesn't drink, smoke, or “go all the way,” informing her she’s not like the others, who are overtly sexual, accentuating their buxom physiques, telling her she’s an exception, that “the rules don’t apply to you.”  Spontaneously writing a song for the occasion, the romantic overtones are inevitable. 

What holds the viewer’s attention early on is the complete absence of Howard Hughes, yet Marla has lofty thoughts of the kind of man he must be, extravagantly rich, everyone at his beck and call, so important and all, where she even dreams of him making a good President.  By the time she actually meets him, he appears out of the dark, tongue-tied, not even sure who she is, where they sit and eat Stouffer’s TV dinners on folding trays, peeling back the aluminum foil while Hughes awkwardly tries to think of something to say, invariably excusing himself as he attends to other pressing business, where he’s seen as a man stymied by his own changeable moods, often to the point of paralysis, where he rambles incoherently, repeats himself, and has a pathological fear that TWA executives attempting to purchase his aviation company are secretly trying to find him legally insane so they can take over the company, so he refuses to meet with them, or even reveal where he is.  In this hidden and secretive manner, he continues to conduct his company’s business, growing increasingly erratic.  Beatty seems to relish the idea of playing Hughes for laughs and comic amusement, often seen where he’s crazy as a loon, but watching a feeble old man whose best years are behind him isn’t really funny, especially when he’s obsessed by watching old movie footage of himself when he was an aviator and still a virile young man, continually reliving his youth, playing it out in his head so often he could almost believe it was still real.  This kind of pathetic display is more tragic than anything else, but the film reveals no backstory about Hughes, where we’re not given any details about what led him to this pitiful state.  The film really dovetails in exposing the mad eccentricities of the man, as it’s just not that interesting seeing someone so out of touch with himself gradually losing focus.  If he were a sympathetic figure, it might be different, but Hughes is larger than life, a demanding egomaniac obsessed only with himself, going on an outrageous binge where all he wants is Baskin Robbins banana nut ice cream, where his underlings are forced to buy all the remaining reserves as the company doesn’t make it any more, then just as quickly he changes his mind and wants something else.  The man is an infuriating business partner, where working for him is something of a nightmare.  While there are attempts to show a more intimate side of Hughes, quieter, perhaps more self-possessed, where incredibly he has romantic aspirations with Marla as well, who has grown so frustrated at the lack of progress in her career, overconsuming champagne, drinking alcohol for the first time in her life, allowing her to speak bluntly when she’s finally in the presence of the elusive one, singing a drunken arrangement of her song which plays with archival Hughes footage playing behind her, leaving the man in a trance of sensory overkill.  Out of control passions between the two lead to sex as a comical slapstick routine, becoming one of the true ick factors of the film, where he’s 79 and she looks considerably younger than 27, with more than a 50 year difference between them, where it’s hard not to see Beatty transforming into the aging Maurice Chevalier from GIGI (1958) singing “Thank Heaven for Little Girls” Thank Heaven for Little Girls from Gigi - YouTube (2:36).  While there are a few entertaining moments, mostly this is a coming out party for Lily Collins who dominates the film with her zest for life and youthful Audrey Hepburn appeal, literally stealing the film from a man who was once himself a youthful wonder and the talk of the town, rumored to have slept with nearly every female star in Hollywood, where according to Cher, “Warren has probably been with everybody I know.”  One popular theory on why Beatty turned down so many roles (prior to his marriage to Bening in 1992) was that he didn’t like interrupting his prolific love life to go to work.