Film Is a Battleground #14 (Ray, Sideways, Shaun of the Dead)

RAY (on DVD)
SIDEWAYS (in theaters)
SHAUN OF THE DEAD (on DVD)

RAY (Taylor Hackford, 2004)
** (Worth seeing)

RAY is eminently watchable because it contains art but there’s little chance the film itself will be mistaken for art itself. Armond White accurately described the film as “conscientious but unimaginative.” Unlike Michael Mann (ALI) and Julie Taymor (FRIDA), Taylor Hackford makes no attempt to break free of the biopic’s constrictions. Neither Mann nor Taymor succeeded in dramatizing their admiration for their subjects. Both of those films exhibited far greater technical skill than does RAY, but RAY benefits from its modest ambitions. Too much of ALI and FRIDA seemed self-deluding; the filmmakers used their technical gifts relentlessly condescending to the genre and failing mask their lack of insight on their subjects.

Both ALI and FRIDA were long films and felt like it. Despite Hackford and screenwriter James L. White’s competent, pedestrian work and RAY’s prodigious running time one regrets the film’s abrupt ending which forgoes the second half of Charles’ life. All the film has going for it is Charles’ still-fascinating genius. As with Hank Williams or Bill Monroe, it’s amazing to consider that a man created a body of work so artistically innovative and universally popular that the culture completely assimilates them within a generation or two. In choosing to end the film at the point Charles vows to give up heroin, Hackford invites the cheap inference that the drug fueled the genius.

This choice undermines Jamie Foxx who has been quite rightly praised for rejecting the opportunity to make Charles a lovable character and embracing the man’s complexity. His anger and passion made him both a junkie and an R&B Caravaggio. Caravaggio found room in his religious commissions to depict the carnal, criminal life he lived. Charles used the passionate frenzy of gospel music to express similarly worldly desires. Somehow neither Caravaggio’s homosexuality nor Charles’ race and his blindness which their respective world’s treated as alienating weaknesses limited the scope of their artistic visions. Perhaps being put at arm’s length by the world gave them the perspective to conflate their realism about humanity with wonder of the transformative power of God’s grace.

Hackford deserves credit for surrounding the gifted Foxx with an impressive supporting cast. The film is filled with generally underemployed actors (Kerry Washington, Regina King, Terrence Howard, Curtis Armstrong, Richard Schiff, Clifton Powell, Bokeem Woodbine, David Krumholtz, and Wendell Pierce). Many of them are overqualified for their roles here as well, but Hackford clearly appreciates and makes use of their talents.

SIDEWAYS (Alexander Payne, 2004)
* (Has redeeming facet)

Like Matthew Broderick, Paul Giamatti is both an unassuming and an inventive actor. So, as Broderick did Alexander Payne’s similarly overpraised ELECTION, Giamatti brings an admirable dignity to an underwritten character that Payne thinks is a loser. Payne’s reticence has thus far prevented from developing any sort of style as a writer or filmmaker. Some have called this perceptively observational and evenhanded honesty. I just don’t think he has anything to say. This is, after all, the man who discovered Chris Klein and took offense to being compared to Preston Sturges upon the release of the worthless CITIZEN RUTH.

Still, Payne attracts good actors, and for a scene as good as the one in SIDEWAYS where Giamatti must make polite conversation with his ex-wife, I guess the whole enterprise (a dull, pretentiously middlebrow CALIFORNIA SPLIT) is somewhat worthwhile.

SHAUN OF THE DEAD (Edgar Wright, 2004)
** (Worth seeing)

A film of small, unassuming (not to be mistaken for slight) virtues that works better as social satire than horror film. The first half hour a minor classic, the film loses its way when rote zombie fighting dominates proceedings but recovers for a redemptive coda that simultaneously celebrates the human capacity for adaptability and satirizes the ambitionless manner we generally utilize that capacity.

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Film Is a Battleground #12: Iced In (American Splendor, Personal Velocity, High Roller)

The rare occurrence of severe winter weather left me stranded at home for January's final weekend. I watched some movies.

AMERICAN SPLENDOR (on cable and DVD)
PERSONAL VELOCITY (on cable and DVD)
HIGH ROLLER: THE STU UNGAR STORY (on cable)

AMERICAN SPLENDOR (Robert Pulcini & Shari Springer Berman, 2003)
** (Worth seeing)

For the first hour or so, AMERICAN SPLENDOR’s ambitious mix of biopic, literary adaptation, documentary, and animation admirably captures Harvey Pekar’s worldview. Pekar can’t imagine living happily in a world that makes sense. By accepting and cataloging his own eccentricities (without romanticizing or mythologizing them) in the autobiographical “American Splendor” comic books Pekar re-casts himself as the center of a particular, peculiar world, one that most resembles a 1970s, rust-belt version of Fred Allen’s radio show.

The film loses its way when it attempts to recreate Pekar’s brief exposure in the mainstream media world as a semi-regular guest on “Late Night with David Letterman.” Pekar’s reasons for returning to the Letterman show, where he served as an eccentric straight man (presumably allowing Larry “Bud” Melman a night off) are vague, thus softening the impact of his on-air diatribe against GE that ended his participation with Letterman. Because we don’t know what drew Pekar to do the Letterman show repeatedly (he claims it was only for the money), we can’t understand why he rejects the program in such a passive-aggressive, public manner. The directors become more interested in impressing the audience with the mixture of on-air archival footage and backstage re-enactments featuring Paul Giamatti as Pekar and Hope Davis as his wife, Joyce Brabner. Unfortunately, the diatribe itself features the film’s most awkward staging. GE and/or Letterman wouldn’t allow use of the footage of Pekar’s final appearance so Giamatti is forced to deliver the rant into the vacuum of a Letterman impersonator. It’s the only moment where his performance falters.

It’s as if the filmmakers shy away from commenting on Pekar’s exposure in the mainstream media as a way to avoid acknowledging the parallels between the Letterman appearances and their own project. That’s a shame because both Pekar the man and Pekar the artist are interesting enough figures to carry an entire movie. Pulcini and Berman’s audacious attempt to integrate both of those possible movies into a single framework works exceedingly well until it threatens to reveal something of them, though the manner in which they ultimately fail further serves to illustrate Pekar’s unique talent.

PERSONAL VELOCITY (Rebecca Miller, 2002)
* (Has redeeming facet)

Rebecca Miller’s admirable attempt at creating worthy roles for talented character actresses falls victim to the too-neat, MFA quality of the three stories she adapted for the film. A failing the film accentuates by providing the most redundant use of voice-over since ME, MYSELF, AND IRENE.

“Delia” features the excellent Kyra Sedgwick in title role and is the most compelling of the three stories which makes the deflating, sub-Carver ending all the more disappointing. The second story, “Greta,” has a wistful comic energy. Parker Posey even at her most still seems on the edge of mania. Watching her, one gets the sense that being polite takes great effort. The story benefits from that tension only to squander it completely when the narrator explains the final scene lest the slower members of the audience fail to be impressed by the neatness of Miller’s conceit. The final story, “Paula,” pulls the unconnected stories together tenuously. We learn that all three stories take place at the same time, but the revelation adds no meaning. Like the Annie Ross/Lori Singer sections of SHORT CUTS, the story used to link the other stories houses little more than leftover ideas, thus lacking any inherent reason to exist.

HIGH ROLLER: THE STU UNGAR STORY (AW Vidmer, 2005)
0 stars (Has no redeeming facet)

Stu Ungar was a card playing prodigy. He was also a degenerate gambler and drug addict. Rumor and legend of his prodigious talents, appetites, and desperation overshadow the known facts of his life. Best known to the general public from his appearance in A. Alvarez’s The Biggest Game in Town, Ungar should be both a great subject for a film and a great role for an actor. In this film he’s neither. There is the consolation that this film (unlike Barry Sonnenfeld’s GET SHORTY travesty) will likely be little-seen and won’t preclude a better, bolder attempt at Ungar’s life.

I spent part of the ice storm watching early Sopranos episodes. Even in those rich surroundings, Michael Imperioli stands out as a talented and compelling actor. One wouldn’t know that from Vidmer’s film. His script sanitizes Ungar and his mise-en-scene is lifeless. Imperioli is left adrift.

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