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Tag Archives: Rushmore

11/1/14 (Part Two): The Imaginarium of Dr. Anderson

08 Monday Dec 2014

Posted by phillipkaragas in Uncategorized

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Adrien Brody, adventure, Alexandre Desplat, all-star cast, auteur theory, best films of 2014, coming of age, concierge, contested will, Edward Norton, F. Murray Abraham, Film auteurs, friendship, Grand Budapest Hotel, Jeff Goldblum, lobby boy, M. Gustave, magical-realism, male friendships, Mathieu Amalric, Ralph Fiennes, Robert D. Yeoman, romance, Rushmore, Saoirse Ronan, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Royal Tennenbaums, the Society of the Crossed Keys, Tilda Swinton, Tony Revolori, Wes Anderson, Willem Dafoe, writer-director, Zero Moustafa

grand_budapest_hotel

Even though the concept may no longer be in fashion, there really is no better word to describe writer-director Wes Anderson than “auteur”: it’s quite impossible to mistake any of his movies for the work of any other filmmaker and, as a whole, his back catalog is just as indispensable as those of Martin Scorcese, John Ford or Francis Ford Coppola. With a fussy, vibrant and immaculately composed style that recalls such filmmaking peers as Peter Greenaway and Jean-Pierre Jeunet, Anderson has been making wonderfully quirky odes to the importance of family (both biological and “acquired”) for nearly 20 years now. While Anderson’s canon is one of the most high-quality bodies of work in modern cinema, his newest film, The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014), might just be the most inherently “Andersonian” film he’s yet crafted, a gorgeous, baroque and almost impossibly dense marvel that spans some 80 years of European history and introduces the world to one of his all-time best characters: the amazingly vibrant M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes), ever-faithful head concierge at the titular establishment.

Opening with a flashback structure that most resembles a set of those Russian nesting dolls, we begin in the present, where a young girl is visiting the grave site of the author responsible for the book, “The Grand Budapest Hotel,” before jumping back to 1985, where we actually meet the author (Tom Wilkinson) before jumping back, again, to 1968. At this point, we’re introduced to Mr. Zero Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham), the fantastically wealthy owner of the Grand Budapest Hotel: he agrees to tell the author the story of how he came to own the hotel, which jumps us back one final time to 1932, where the meat of the tale occurs.

We now meet Moustafa when he’s but a lowly lobby boy (Tony Revolori), taken under the wing of the indomitable M. Gustave. Gustave is the whip-smart, rakish force-of-nature who is the living embodiment of everything the Grand Budapest stands for. He’s also quite the Don Juan, as it turns out, handily romancing the lonely, elderly ladies who constantly stream in and out of the hotel. “She was dynamite in the sack,” he fondly reminisces to Zero, only to be told, incredulously, that she was 84 years old. “I’ve had older,” he happily replies, “When you’re young, it’s all filet steak, but as the years go by, you have to move on to the cheap cuts. Which is fine with me, because I like those. More flavorful, or so they say.” One of these “cheap cuts,” as it were, is Madame D (Tilda Swinton), an exceptionally wealthy society matriarch and one of Gustave’s biggest “fans.” When Madame D dies after a passionate evening with Gustave, the concierge suddenly finds himself bequeathed a priceless painting, much to the massive consternation of Madame D’s patently awful son, Dmitri (Adrien Brody).

Convinced that Gustave killed his mother in order to gain access to her fortune, Dmitri is bound and determined to see Gustave in leg-irons. With the help of his sleazy right-hand man, Jopling (Willem Dafoe), Dmitri frames Gustave and gets him thrown into prison. As anyone whose met him can attest, however, it’s patently impossible to keep the irrepressible Gustave penned up and he’s soon on the lam, thanks to an ingeniously messy prison break. With the help of the always-faithful Zero and his new lady-love, Agatha (Saoirse Ronan), Gustave must work to clear his name and assume his rightful reward, even as Dmitri and Jopling cut a bloody swath through the countryside. With the dedicated Inspector Henckels (Edward Norton) on his trail, however, escape won’t be easy and Gustave, Zero and Agatha might just find themselves in the fight of their lives.

Above and beyond almost all of Anderson’s previous films, The Grand Budapest Hotel practically demands repeat viewings in order to parse through the dense, layered material. There’s an awful lot going on in the film: not only do we deal with all of Gustave’s madcap adventures but there’s also the implied background of the film, itself, to deal with. Set between World Wars I and II, in the imaginary Republic of Zubrowka, The Grand Budapest Hotel deals (albeit in a slightly modified way) with the events that lead up to World War II, specifically the German aggression which would, in turn, lead to the National Socialist Party. Despite its loose, easy-going nature, the specter of the SS (here renamed the ZZ) and World War II hangs over The Grand Budapest Hotel like a pall, subtly informing everything from the background politics of the piece to interactions between the various characters. Despite its weighty subject-matter, The Grand Budapest Hotel is a remarkably light-weight film, certainly more easy-going and laid-back than one might expect for a film that discusses, in a roundabout way, the societal issues which led to the rise of the Nazis.

Two of the most “Andersonian” features of any of his films are the exceptional ensemble casts and meticulously detailed mise en scene and, in these regards, The Grand Budapest Hotel may just be the pick of the litter. The film looks absolutely gorgeous, so pretty and detailed as to almost seem like the life-sized embodiment of a miniature-adorned dollhouse. The Hotel, itself, is a masterpiece of baroque architecture, although the film is never short of astounding locations: Gustave’s prison, in particular, is a real marvel and reminded me of nothing so much as one of Jeunet’s eye-popping, studiously “unrealistically real” sets. And then, of course, there’s that cast…

It goes without saying that Fiennes is superb as Gustave: he’s one of cinema’s finest actors and he rips into the character of Gustave with real zeal, disappearing into the role so completely that it never seemed like acting. Watching Fiennes work is a real pleasure and he brings Gustave to glorious life with ease. The real surprise and shining star in the cast (which manages to include a veritable ocean of “blink-and-you’ll-miss-’em” cameos by acting heavyweights such as Harvey Keitel, Tilda Swinton, Bill Murray, Bob Balaban, Jeff Goldblum and Jude Law), however, is Tony Revolori as the rock-solid lobby boy. Revolori, with only one full-length film under his belt prior to The Grand Budapest Hotel, is a complete revelation: watching his performance, I was struck with the notion that here, before our very eyes, is a star on the rise. Revolori is absolutely perfect in the film: whether courting Agatha, decking Dmitri or saving Gustave’s life (multiple times), Zero is a completely three-dimensional, warm character and Revolori is a thoroughly magnetic performer. There’s a realness to Zero’s relationships with both Gustave and Agatha that lends the film a truly bittersweet edge. For her part, Ronan is marvelous as Agatha: as far from a generic “manic pixie girl” as one can get, there’s an edge to her character that’s nicely balanced by a real sense of intelligence. She’s a more than suitable partner for Zero and holds her own quite nicely.

On the “bad guy” side, both Brody and Dafoe turn in fantastic, endlessly fun performances as Dmitri and Jopling, respectively, with Dafoe turning in one of the most effortlessly “cool” performances of a long and storied career. It’s quite obvious that both actors are having a blast with their characters: Anderson even allows Dafoe engage in a little bit o’ the old ultra-violence that his cinematic characters are normally known for when he slams a door on a character’s hand, cutting off several fingers in the process. Unlike some of Anderson’s previous films, there’s a real sense of danger and imminent violence to be found in The Grand Budapest Hotel and much of the credit for this must go to Dafoe, who still manages to seem like one of the most dangerous guys in the world, even as he pushes sixty.

As previously mentioned, all of these aspects add up to not only one of the finest films of 2014 but, arguably, one of the finest films of Anderson’s storied career. While I didn’t find the film to be as immediately gripping as either Rushmore (1998) or The Royal Tennenbaums (2001), that’s not really a fair “criticism,” either: Anderson’s second and third movies are absolutely perfect masterpieces of modern cinema and I doubt that anything will ever quite equal that pair. That being said, The Grand Budapest Hotel is a real marvel: endlessly fun, inventive and appropriately bittersweet, the film has an epic scope that’s belied by Anderson’s typically low-key goals. At its heart, The Grand Budapest Hotel is a story about misfits trying to find their way in an increasingly cold-hearted world, about the importance of family and friends and about the joy…nay, the need, to remain true to yourself in a homogenous world. M. Gustave is a true individual, as is Zero Moustafa: united against the world, they’re capable of anything. Come to think of it, that sounds like a pretty damn good description for Anderson, too: a true individual whose capable of absolutely anything.

8/10/14: The Hair Protects the Brain

31 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by phillipkaragas in Uncategorized

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academic quiz show, Alex Wolff, Austin Pendleton, Billy Kent, Brendan Fraser, child genius, college student, Collegiate Mastermind, collegiate rivalries, coming of age, Eli Pettifog, Elisabeth Hower, Fred Melamed, Greta Lee, HairBrained, Harvard, independent films, indie comedies, Julia Garner, Kimiko Glenn, Leo Searly, Michael Oberholtzer, midlife crisis, Napoleon Dynamite, Parker Posey, Robin de Jesus, romance, Rushmore, social outcasts, Teddy Bergman, The Trotsky, voice-over narration, Whittman College

hairbrained-movie-poster-2014-1020769522

Sporting a King Buzzo hairdo and dragging an outrageously overstuffed dufflebag of books behind him, Eli Pettifog (Alex Wolff) is quite the memorable figure. He’s also a socially inept, fourteen-year-old certifiable genius who’s just begun his freshman year at Whittman College, the 37th best school on his list, far below his beloved first choice, Harvard. Eli, obviously, is not going to have an easy go of it. On the other hand, Eli is droll, fearless and has a way with a witty comeback that would make Juno proud. In other words, at least as far as indie comedies go, Eli is gonna be just fine.

As the centerpiece of Billy Kent’s HairBrained (2013), Eli joins a proud tradition of cinematic misfits made good, taking his place with the likes of Max Fischer, Napoleon Dynamite and Leon Bronstein. Like his predecessors, Eli faces a pretty predictable arc: begin as the maligned outsider and win the world over with his quirky charm. While HairBrained is nowhere near the ivied walls of Wes Anderson’s Rushmore (1998), nor even the high school halls of Jacob Tierney’s The Trotsky (2009), the film has enough charm to make it a breezy watch and a worthwhile addition to the canon.

We’re first introduced to Eli as his waste-case of a mother (Parker Posey, in a great cameo) drops him off at the bus station on his first day of college. She’s “too tired” to drive him to school: she’s a “terrible mother,” his voice-over informs us. “Make some friends,” she tells him, with a tone that indicates she knows how this particular request will go. And, with the gentle, psuedo-tropical rhythms of Cayucas’ “Cayucos” playing on the soundtrack, we’re off. It’s an effective opening and a good portent of what’s to come: plenty of gently snark, some genuine emotion and lots of quirk.

Every good movie misfit needs a sidekick and Eli gets his in the form of Leo Searly (Brendan Fraser), the unnaturally happy, easy-going, oldest freshman student at Whittman. As we discover via a clever “slot-machine”-style interlude, Leo has recently had a bit of a mid-life crisis, abandoning his job and family to “rediscover” himself which, as we’ll come to see, mostly consists of flipping a coin to decide between adding badminton or squash to his schedule and attending raging keggers where he gleefully picks up on co-eds young enough to be his daughter. Leo takes to Eli at first sight and makes it his goal to help steer his young protegé through the rocky waters of academia which, again, mostly consists of attending parties and learning to “loosen up.”

For his part, however, Eli can never truly be happy since he’ll always have to settle for second-best: namely, any place that isn’t Harvard. He’s wanted to attend the Ivy League school since he was a small boy and still plasters every inch of his Whittman dorm with his accumulated Harvard memorabilia: being rejected by the school is a blow that Eli still struggles to overcome, even as his outward appearance suggests nothing so much as bored acceptance.

After seeing a flyer for Collegiate Mastermind, an academic quiz show, Eli attends a competition only to watch in delight as his beloved Harvard wipes the floor with the pathetic Whittman team (Eli stands and cheers every time Harvard scores, earning him multiple “atta boys” from the smug Harvard crew, along with dismayed looks from his own peers). After the meet, Eli tries to wheedle himself in with the Harvard boys, only for the nerds to turn around and bully him after finding out that he goes to Whittman. In one moment, Eli’s entire world is turned upside-down: where once burned the flame of adulation, now only burns hatred. Rushing back to his room and destroying all of his Harvard gear, Eli vows revenge on his former crush: he will join Whittman’s Collegiate Mastermind team and he will utterly destroy Harvard…or, at least, Harvard’s Collegiate Mastermind team.

Once the boy genius is on-board, Whittman’s Collegiate Mastermind team is virtually unstoppable. In face, Eli pretty much becomes the entire team, completely over-shadowing original members Gertrude (Greta Lee), Alan (Teddy Bergman) and Romeo (Ruben de Jesus). He even gets a girlfriend in the form of the equally quirky Shauna (Julia Garner), who works at the local mall and enjoys smoking pot and making out (clumsily). Eli also ends up with his own fan base (success-starved Whittman students will hold on to any victories they can get, attending CM meets and chanting “We’re not dumb” en masse) and even a groupie, of sorts, in out-of-his-league cheerleader Eve (Elisabeth Hower), whose football player boyfriend, Laird (Michael Oberholtzer), has become some sort of “frenemy” to Eli. As for Leo, a chance reunion with his estranged daughter, who is now a perspective Whittman student, has got him re-evaluating his life choices: it certainly gets him rethinking his choice in bed partners, as his latest girlfriend is too close in age to his daughter for comfort.

As Eli and the Whittman team get ever closer to their elusive Harvard rivals, temptations arise everywhere for our intrepid heroes: Eli’s increasing showboating and obnoxious behavior during meets threatens his participation in the Collegiate Mastermind finals, Leo’s need for tuition money for his daughter leads him to return to his formerly destructive gambling habits. Will Eli be a hero and take Whittman all the way to a championship? Will Leo do right by his family, at long last? And will someone finally shut up those egotistical Harvard nitwits?

Although HairBrained doesn’t do much different from any other indie coming-of-age comedies of late, it’s still a pleasant, fun film, even if it manages to lose quite a bit of steam by the final third. Without a doubt, the film’s biggest asset is its incredibly winning cast: while there are certainly stand-outs, nearly every performer is equally likeable, charismatic and entertaining, whether in major or minor roles. Wolff and Fraser make an excellent odd couple, sort of a Mutt and Jeff where Fraser gets to traffic in his patented “aw shucks” attitude to great effect. Wolff is a pretty extraordinary young actor, definitely someone who we’ll be seeing more of in the future. Michael Oberholtzer almost steals the film away as Laird, however, playing the character as anything but the stereotypical bully: the bit where he inexplicably dresses like the Donnie Darko rabbit is pretty great but even better is his initial meeting with Eli, wherein he holds his head in the toilet after which he toasts his new “enemy” with a swig from his hip-flask. It’s a great, funny character and Oberholtzer is endlessly fun to watch.

Just as impressive, however, are Greta Lee, Julia Garner and Elisabeth Hower as, respectively, Gertrude, Shauna and Eve. As the no-nonsense anchor to Whittman’s CM team, Lee’s Gertrude is the perfect combination of wistful desire and bland practicality, while Garner’s take on the “manic pixie girl” stereotype is infinitely more tolerable than similar recent examples. Hower, for her part, is magnificent as Eve, playing the character as something of a lackadaisical predator, a sleepy-eyed shark who sets her sights on Eli, for whatever reason: the scene where she corners her prey in the library and implores him to “Look past her breasts,” to which Eli gives his best Henny Youngman-esque answer, “Look past them? I can’t even look at them!” is one of the film’s funniest moments.

On the downside, HairBrained ends up running out of steam well before the conclusion and a lot of what seemed charming and funny in the first two-thirds begins to feel strained and humdrum by the finale. My biggest issue came with the two deux ex machinas dropped into the script, either of which would have been bad enough on their own but taken together almost seem insulting: in essence, any time the relatively “stakes-free” film threatens its characters’ complacency, the script throws in a handy way to get them out, free and easy. As mentioned, it’s more than tiresome: it mars what’s otherwise a pretty good, funny script and smacks of lazy writing.

Despite a few issues, however, HairBrained is a pretty charming film: it’s not a classic, by any stretch of the imagination, but I found myself liking it a great deal more than I did Juno (2007). The dialogue is (usually) pretty clever, Wolff and Fraser have great chemistry and are completely believable as the odd couple friends and the supporting cast is exceptionally strong. While the film doesn’t break any new ground, it does just fine with what it has.

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