Showing posts with label Tommy Lee Jones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tommy Lee Jones. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Lincoln











LINCOLN                   B-                   
USA  (150 mi)  2012  ‘Scope  d:  Steven Spielberg      Official site

Fondly do we hope—fervently do we pray—that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, “The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.”

With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan—to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.

—Abraham Lincoln, 2nd Inaugural Address, March 4, 1865.  He was assassinated a month later, just days after the Appomattox terms of surrender were signed on April 9, and died April 15, 1865.    

Spielberg continues the American tradition of grandiose filmmaking, initially spun by the mythmaking of John Ford who himself made YOUNG MR. LINCOLN (1939), another fictionalized account of the life of Abraham Lincoln, using Henry Fonda in another near saintly role.  Though based in part by the historical accounts of biographer Doris Kearns Goodwin in her book Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln, adapted by Angels in America playwright and screenwriter Tony Kushner, who also wrote Spielberg’s earlier film MUNICH (2005), Spielberg has a Cecil B. DeMille tendency to exaggerate Lincoln into larger than life, iconic status even while he’s alive, turning every frame of this film into mythological spectacle instead of history.  In this manner, much as he did with AMISTAD (1997), Spielberg takes liberties in fictionalizing history that he peddles as the truth, actually printing study guides to be used in schools alongside his films as an example of American history, where much like Fox News on the political right, Spielberg often blurs the lines between fact and fiction.  Spielberg actually purchased the film rights to the movie before the Team of Rivals book was even written, suggesting a pre-conceived notion of what he wanted to do, which is elevate Lincoln into heroic and saintly status.  While he uses actual biographical accounts to humanize the man, he continually displays skewed and preferential treatment to show Lincoln above the fray, always seen as a noble figure, while all around him his more self-interested minions are fighting to cover their own political hides, forever squabbling about minor details, losing sight of the big picture, where only Lincoln seems to hold together this vision of ending slavery.  Worried that the Emancipation Proclamation could legally be construed as only valid as a Presidential decree issued during wartime, once the war is over, he didn’t want to consider the possibility of the return of slavery, so he needed the 13th Amendment passed abolishing it once and for all.

In the film it’s all about slavery, about being on the right side of history, with barely a word about state’s rights or protectionism, which is at least part of the Civil War argument.  States wanted the right to preserve slavery, but also their own sovereignty, and much like today, they didn’t like the idea of a weak and often unpopular government interfering with their individual freedoms.  Lincoln took his decisive re-election in 1864 (losing only 3 states, Kentucky, Delaware, and New Jersey) as a referendum on slavery and a sign that the nation demanded immediate redress.  In typical movie fashion, even up until a few hours before the vote, Lincoln must overcome near impossible obstacles, as the votes are not there.  In noble fashion, he arranges private meetings with needed legislators and speaks with a kind of mystical reverence about making history, where people are often puzzled or a bit mystified by what he’s saying, as he’s never on the same plane as anyone else, always in a higher spiritual register, where his art of persuasion is miraculous, as little else explains the victory.  Behind the scenes, he has hired a trio of more conniving political operators who have skillfully attempted to offer promises of patronage as incentives to vote with Lincoln, but they run into a brick wall and some personal arm twisting from the President is invaluable in turning the tide.  Using a two pronged attack, Spielberg shows Lincoln’s personal life behind the scenes, often debating current strategy with David Strathairn as Secretary of State William Steward, whose job at the time seems more like today’s chief of staff, balanced against interactions with his family, including his stubbornly entrenched wife Mary (Sally Field), still mourning the loss of a child from illness a few years earlier, and struggling with recurrent migraine headaches.  Simultaneously, much of the action takes place on the floor of the House of Representatives during the January debate on the Amendment, an often contentious affair filled with snide remarks, personal backstabbing, and insults, an unflattering portrait of the messiness of democracy, where strangely out of chaos comes order.  What’s perhaps most exceptional about Lincoln, the man, is his generous and merciful tone expressed near the war’s end, especially the use of the phrase “with malice toward none,” where he honors those lost on both sides and spreads no further rancor or discord. 

Like other lavish Hollywood productions, this one $65 million dollars, the movie is star heavy, where familiar faces can be seen in relatively minor roles, but two stand out.  Ironically, it is British actor Daniel Day-Lewis that most perfectly expresses the 16th American President, literally inhabiting his folksy personality, the kind of guy that pays attention to minor details, often asking the opinion of people in ordinary walks of life, but also likes telling stories or dirty jokes.  The only time he raises his voice is to his wife who is at the same time screaming at him, as Lincoln could easily lose his focus by the multitude of distractions, not to mention the war dead, but he’s able to balance everything in a rational manner, somehow finding wisdom in the most tragic circumstances.  Outside of Lincoln, Tommy Lee Jones as Pennsylvania Republican Thaddeus Stevens, the powerful Chairman of the House Ways and Means Committee, literally steals the show, as his flowery oratory in describing the vile and vulgar quality of his loathsome Democratic opposition adds a touch of much needed humor, but also provides another tiresome supporter of the President’s views abolishing slavery.  You’d think since the bill passed with a 2/3 majority, there’d be plenty of support, but in Spielberg’s drama, only these two spend any time actually making the case, usually shaming others in the room who are not so convinced.  While the mechanical aspects of the film are well constructed, it does feel like Oscar bait, and its hammy overreach could win a slew of awards, even Best Picture, as in the year of Obama’s re-election, Spielberg may draw historic parallels, even if others don’t, as Hollywood adores this kind of excess of patriotic Americana on display, utilizing a jingoistic quality of filmmaking reminiscent of James Cagney as George M. Cohan in YANKEE DOODLE DANDY (1942).  As he did in There Will Be Blood (2007), Daniel Day-Lewis provides a performance for the ages, but the rest of the movie never rises to his level, always bogged down by black and white, good and evil stereotypes of the ugly opposition, a venomous group of Northerners who hate the idea of freed slaves actually having the same rights as them, thinking this is inhuman and against God, where really, their impact only detracts from the overall complexity of the drama, as too much attention is paid to the virulent hostility of opposing views, and barely any to actually building consensus.  Given the balance of time on the argument onscreen, it’s astonishing the Amendment passed, as in Spielberg’s version, it’s something of a miracle.  Such is the presentation of history in Hollywood movies, as it’s always presented with the most melodramatic flourish.  At some point, particularly when addressing historical portraits, American viewers need to be able to get past the theater of manipulation and learn to demand a more objective, less patronizing approach. 

Monday, September 5, 2011

Lonesome Dove — TV mini-series















LONESOME DOVE – Made for TV               B+                  
USA  (384 mi, four 90-minute installments, Pt. 1:  Leaving, Pt. II:  On the Trail, Pt. III:  The Plains, Pt. IV:  Return)  1989  d:  Simon Wincer

Gus, why not go up to Montana? It's a cattleman's paradise to hear Jake tell it.    
—Tommy Lee Jones (Woodrow F. Call)

It ain’t dyin’ I'm talkin’ about…it’s livin’.     —Robert Duvall (Augustus “Gus” McCrae)

This project started out as a Larry McMurtry movie screenplay in 1970, where Peter Bogdanovich was lined up to direct John Wayne (Captain Call), James Stewart (Gus McCrae), and Henry Fonda (Jake Spoon).  But once Wayne dropped out, supposedly at the urging of director John Ford, the rest backed out of the project as well, where eventually the screenplay was expanded to a full length novel which won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 1986.  After director John Huston turned down the project, and Charles Bronson, James Garner, Jon Voight, and even Robert Duvall all turned down the part of Captain Call, it was eventually turned into a television mini-series.  Considered Robert Duvall’s favorite role throughout his entire career, so that’s saying something, but this is a tragic and bittersweet saga, an epic post Civil War adventure that details the colorful interior worlds of the plentiful characters while showcasing spectacular landscapes of the vast American plains, one of the more spectacular TV mini-series to ever play on American television, largely due to the strength of the novelesque writing, adapted from the Larry McMurtry novel, that really documents the life-long friendship between two former Texas Rangers, Duvall as Augustus “Gus” McCrae and Tommy Lee Jones as Woodrow Call, known as the Captain.  While Woodrow is a severe taskmaster, a dour and emotionally distant man who continually undertakes back breaking work, Gus is his polar opposite, claiming that for all the hard work Woodrow does, he has to balance the equation by doing as little work as possible.  Both are stubborn, individualistic, tough as nails, and cantankerous men who have survived when others didn’t, proud bastions of the Old West, experts in their field and living legends of their era who are now already forgotten, having paid their dues and are expected to coast easily into the comforts of retirement.  But both are restless souls, driven by the frontier spirit of living free, and like a bank robber who needs to pull off one last heist, these guys feel the need for one more great adventure, deciding on a whim to run a cattle drive from Lonesome Dove, a tiny border town in South Texas, to Montana, a place they’ve never been, but only heard of, a good 2500 miles away where the Captain believes he’ll be the first rancher to raise cattle in Montana.  It’s a crazy idea that makes no sense, but that’s precisely why they feel compelled to do it.  These are the kind of men that don’t want to ever admit that life got the best of them, continually staring death in the face and standing up to outlaws, thieves, and Indians, providing the kind of moral authority needed in a lawless land, where they also continually needle one another about each other’s supposed deficiencies, where their ongoing running commentary throughout the film is a thing of beauty rarely seen over such an extended period of time, initially shown over four consecutive nights in 90-minute installments.

Duvall is simply magnificent, an enthralling, wise-cracking character in nearly every shot throughout the entire ordeal, a guts and glory kind of guy (also a Captain) with endless stories to tell who literally commands the screen, where his enthusiasm and his zest for life endears him to the audience, continually charming his way into people’s hearts.  But much of the strength of this work lies in such well drawn out characters and the superb cast that brings them to life.  Robert Urich is Jake Spoon, another former Texas Ranger who rode with Gus and the Captain, but one who drifts and continually strays from moral virtue, displaying selfishness, greed, and weakness, allowing himself to get sucked into other people’s dirty business instead of standing up to it.  Diane Lane is Lorena (Lorie), a beautiful saloon girl who’s sick and tired of seeing the same do-nothing faces of the men in Lonesome Dove, a sleepy town where literally nothing ever happens, where she’s the only good thing to happen in the lives of the available men, but she is suffocating on the monotony of the dreary emptiness.  Ricky Schroder is Newt, most likely the Captain’s son, though he’s loathe to admit it, as his mother died years ago, but entering adulthood he’s still kept in the dark about who his real father may be.  Nonetheless he’s a handsome and likeable kid, a bit green under the collar, but game, the kind of guy who would always lend a helping hand.  Chris Cooper plays the good-natured Sheriff July Johnson from Fort Smith, Arkansas, the town where Jake Spoon accidentally kills a man, who turns out to be the Sheriff’s brother, returning back to Lonesome Dove after nearly a decade to ride out the storm hiding among friends.  Goaded by his pregnant wife Elmira (Glenne Headly) to take their young son on the trail as he tracks down Jake Spoon in Texas, Sheriff Johnson is sent on more than one wild goose chase, as after the Sheriff’s departure his wife immediately leaves town in search of the man she really loves, an outlaw named Dee Boot in Ogallala, Nebraska.  Danny Glover is Joshua Deets, a former slave, but also another former Texas Ranger and an expert tracker, one of the few men trusted by the Captain, a guy who affectionately looks after Newt, as seemingly none of the other men do.  And finally, though she doesn’t appear until the third episode, Anjelica Huston is Clara, the love of Gus’s life, the only woman he still pines over though he hasn’t seen her in a decade, a woman of regal stature who remains sassy and independent, refusing Gus’s earlier marriage proposals.   

What’s immediately clear is that the film doesn’t sugar coat history, where the Captain, despite his law abiding standing, sees little conflict when it comes to stealing horses or cattle from Mexicans across the border.  Despite tracking men down for this exact same crime over the course of their entire careers, Mexico is outside the jurisdiction of the United States, so apparently anything outside the law goes, where ironically the entire herd on this legendary drive consists of stolen Mexican cattle.  This reveals the state of mind of Texas Rangers, who had no problem using guns and brute strength to impose their will on others, much like the U.S. Cavalry was doing tracking down the last of the free Indians.  The cattle drive north takes place in 1876 shortly after the death of General Custer, in fact, exactly into the Montana territory of the Little Big Horn where the threat of Indians was everpresent, as Indians had collectively gathered in that region literally to make a last stand against the advancing encroachment of the whites.  While the drive slowly heads north, complete with wind and dust storms, not to mention lightning strikes, Jake has promised Lorie he’d take her to San Francisco, an offer that she leaped at, traveling close to the protection of the cattle men.  But Jake quickly grows tired of the monotony and leaves Lorie alone in search of a card game, where she’s quickly kidnapped by a murderous outlaw Indian named Blue Duck (Frederick Forrest—yes, another white guy in a wig), quickly turning this into a variation of THE SEARCHERS (1956), where Gus goes alone to track her down and bring her back alive.  Like a film within a film, this long and arduous journey coincides with Sheriff Johnson’s fruitless search for Jake and Elmira’s attempted escape north as well, all fraught with difficulties, unexpected horrors, senseless murders, and life threatening situations, where viewers develop a keen sense of how some outlaws, or those beyond the reach of the law, have such a low regard for life itself, routinely killing or brutalizing others for the sheer pleasure of it.  To survive in this vast wilderness outside the safe and supposedly “civilized” confines of the towns and cities required unusual fortitude, expert marksmanship, an ability to survive in the oppressive heat with little to no water, a clear head and a sharp mind, and a kind of fearlessness that doesn’t exist in the ordinary man.  This is what attracts us to a man like Augustus “Gus” McCrae, as despite his warm personal charm, it’s his qualities “outside” the laws of man that make him so endearing, the stuff of myth and legends, where it’s highly appealing to watch this man in action over the course of the entire mini-series.  His adventures carry with it a kind of Greek Odysseus heroicism, as his journey represents places we can only visit in our imaginations.      

Because of the historic setting, just at the time of Custer's last stand, the anxious tone of white settlers continually in fear of unforeseen Indian attacks does accurately represent the state of mind in the West at the time.  Nonetheless, this is hardly an accurate portrayal of Indians, again stereotypically seen as drunk, loco, excessively brutal, and heavily involved in the sex trade of white women (perhaps an idealization of the white male’s biggest fear), or Mexicans, viewed as a lawless nation mixing its citizens among our own, continually projected, along with the Indians, as horribly incompetent shooters, as both groups in the eyes of Texans in particular, are outsider groups known for creating havoc and unwarranted violence in the eyes of whites.  The tone of suspicion bordering on prejudice continues to this day, as Mexicans in Texas and the greater Southwest continue to be portrayed by politicians as illegals, un-American, second class citizens, and a threat to the freedoms of whites.  Unfortunately, this kind of racial perception was largely enhanced by the mythical view of the West, which projected brave men fighting and prevailing against insurmountable odds, where the enemy has been continually dehumanized through newspaper accounts or dime store novels over the course of a hundred years or more so that it has become ingrained and accepted as truth in mainstream American society.  This film makes no attempt to alter the prejudices or misconceptions, but instead uses many of the same deplorable Indian stereotypes seen in nearly all American Western movies, best typified by the great westerns of John Ford.  The real secret of the film’s remarkable success, however, is the strong and endearing characters, so unforgettably placed in the context of American history, making a compelling case for a re-examination of the fundamental principles of American society, many of which were fought over during the Civil War, needing reinforcement in the fragile and potentially vulnerable era afterwards, becoming more solidified over time when justice could finally eradicate the inherent lawlessness of the West.  Perhaps the highpoint of the film is the emotional payoff in the scene of Gus leaving Clara near the end of Pt. III, which is as melodramatic as anything seen in GONE WITH THE WIND (1939), a tearful and sweepingly majestic moment that defines how significant it was for there to be valiant men in the West, men of guts and honor and sacrifice, men who deserve to be loved and revered, not forgotten, as it was their vision of a free land that ultimately prevailed. 

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Company Men
















THE COMPANY MEN                                              B+                                          
USA   Great Britain  (109 mi)  2010  d:  John Wells

This is the first film that attempts to project the magnitude of the nation’s recent economic woes, as seen through the eyes of several white collar managers that are fired, whose lives, as they know it, are inexplicably altered forever, where people have to do a gut check and re-assess what they’re willing to endure in order to survive.  Pride is on the line, as people have a high opinion of themselves, but this film is about watching that veneer of confidence slowly dissipate, as without a job many have a hard time believing in themselves.  The film documents the various stages of the fall from grace, from the initial denial that it’s happening to you, the injustice of it all, leading to anger and bitterness, until eventually one is humbled by the force of having to admit that they’re unemployed, where the social stigma is like having leprosy.  No one wants to get near you, and you’re ashamed to admit it.  The film really gets that defeated tone just right from the start until just before the finish, where a needless Hollywood happy ending is tagged on at the end.  But up until that point, this film surprisingly gets it right, largely due to the viewer empathy established with the characters and the truthfulness of the performances all around, starting with Ben Affleck as a Boston manufacturing super salesman who’s pulling down $160,000 a year, plus incentives and bonuses, until his company merges and in order to keep the stock prices high, he finds himself a casualty, as he’s suddenly terminated in the opening moments of the film and offered three month’s severance pay.  With a million dollar home in the suburbs, a Porsche car, memberships in exclusive golf resorts, and kids who aren’t nearly old enough yet to even be thinking about college, he suddenly doesn’t have the means to pay his bills, even after he sells the house and the car, as he still owes more than they’re worth.  After initially refusing to acknowledge the obvious, that he would never again make anything close to his previous salary range, he just needs to find one employer that’s willing to hire again.  And of course, millions of people in identical situations around the country are hoping for the same thing, where a job offer would be paramount to a miracle, as none are forthcoming. 

What makes this film particularly interesting is that it escalates to the people above Affleck, where one of the original co-founders of the company, Tommy Lee Jones, who is now criticizing the decisions of the CEO, his former college roommate and best friend, Craig T. Nelson, who is the driving force behind the decisions to make drastic cuts in personnel, identifying that they’re working for the stockholders not the employees, believing they were well paid and the company no longer owes them anything.  The trustful interplay between these two is cracking, as their priorities are different.  Nelson’s stock options are going through the roof, while Jones is watching good people that he hired a decade ago get tossed along the wayside as collateral damage.  One of those is Chris Cooper, one of the last of the high paid execs to go, and one that doesn’t deal with it gracefully.  For awhile, the more interesting story belongs to the upper echelon, as Jones is actually sleeping with and invested in a personal relationship with the hatchet lady (Maria Bello), the company spokesperson performing the dreaded layoff interviews face to face, while also maintaining a disastrous marriage in an oversized home with a woman he can barely even speak to any more.  It’s interesting to see just how the economic scale affects how the wives deal with the sudden changes, where Jones’s wife will still take her shopping trip to Palm Springs but without the corporate jet while Affleck’s wife can’t pay the mortgage.  Brother-in-law Kevin Costner who’s continually making snide remarks about corporate excess even prior to the news is excellent as a working class carpenter who offers Affleck a job during the hard times, an offer that is rejected out of hand.  Many months later, however, Affleck comes crawling to Costner for the work, even bringing in help that he met on the unemployment line, showing that these are desperate times. 

This is writer and director John Wells’s first film, where he’s previously done television work on ER, and he’s aided here by a superlative cast, also the Coen Brother’s ace cinematographer Roger Deakins.  Shot on location in Boston, the giant interior corporate window scenes are especially expressive, as the windows determine the executive pecking order, doled out to those willing to support the CEO and make him look good, as much of their lives is spent on the cocktail party circuit showing themselves and their wives or mistresses off, living the high society life, and basically talking about themselves in an insular world that is defined by the executive yes man mentality, as any critical voice is quickly distanced from the inner circle.  While this film may be told in broad strokes, it does an excellent job framing what goes wrong, showing the world falling apart for certain individuals who are used to being on top all the time, with people catering to their every need.  When that stops, there’s some question about whether these individuals can accept their downfall, as we’re all aware of stories of former employees “going postal,” where they come back to work with a bagful of guns and ammunition after being fired.  This doesn’t go there, but it considers it, meaning anything’s possible.  The film is weakest when it comes to finding a way out of this mess, even for the characters portrayed in the film, as that part of the story really isn’t being told.  What is happening to all these middle class families with kids that need to go to college whose parents have lost their jobs and their homes?  Where are they now?  In my view, they’ve become invisible.