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Showing posts with label jessica chastain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jessica chastain. Show all posts

Saturday

Scary Movie 5: So unfunny, it's frightening

My one-star review of Scary Movie 5 from The National

Be afraid. Be very afraid. The Scary Movie franchise has risen from the grave after a seven-year interment and it is as mouldy, mindless and rank-smelling as a zombie. Those shuffling revenants want to eat your brains and so, too, it feels like, does Scary Movie 5. But only after inveigling some hard-earned cash from your pocket, of course.

Although it doesn’t depart very far from the formula established by its predecessors, some things have changed. Most notably, the series regular Anna Faris decided not to return this time, which could be one of the smartest career decisions she ever makes. In her place is the High School Musical alumna Ashley Tisdale, who gamely does what she can as a wife reluctantly saddled with three children, who are rescued from the wild after being kidnapped, and bedevilled by the ghost that haunts them, in a tedious, extended riff on the recent Jessica Chastain horror flick, Mama.

Sadly for Tisdale and fans of the franchise, Scary Movie 5 is a vivid illustration of the law of diminishing returns. The jokes are flat, the star cameos perfunctory and unimaginative and the plotting barely functional. Nods to Inception, Black Swan and Rise of the Planet of the Apes are behind the curve. On the other hand, a mildly amusing send-up of the gory excesses of the recent remake of The Evil Dead couldn’t be more current.

The film’s humour rarely rises above the juvenile. But it isn’t just the witlessness that makes Scary Movie 5 so hard to laugh along with, but the feeling that you, the audience, are being laughed at.

A pre-title sequence featuring Charlie Sheen and Lindsay Lohan spoofing their tabloid images while they make a sex tape, could have had some comic mileage; but their speeded-up Benny Hill-style bedroom antics and self-skewering jokes about car crashes (appropriate in the context of this train-wreck of a movie), sobriety monitors and tracking ankle bracelets just come across as an ugly combination of silliness and smugness.

And it is all downhill from there. Or rather uphill – as in struggle – because even though it comes in under 90 minutes, the film is still a test of endurance.

Even so, don’t be surprised if this isn’t the last we have seen of the franchise. But you have been warned: Scary Movie 5 isn’t so much entertainment as a mugging. Avoid


Wednesday

Ralph Fiennes: Coriolanus

Bad Bard to the bone

Bad Bard to the Bone 

 

STEPHENAPPLEBAUM, The West Australian March 1, 2012


Ralph Fiennes makes acting look easy. But when he mixed performing with his first stint as a film director, on a brutal, modern-day riff on Shakespeare's unloved and rarely staged political drama Coriolanus, it proved to be one of the two-time Oscar nominee's toughest assignments.

"It was very, very hard, and a bit mad," he says, ensconced in a London hotel room, his soldier character's beat-up body armour now replaced by a cardie and jeans. "The days I wasn't acting, I was relieved. But underneath it all there was a kind of thrill about it. It was a huge adrenaline rush."

As the eponymous battle-hardened general - whose refusal to beg for the support of the people, when he swaps the theatre of war for the bearpit of Roman politics, leads to tragedy - Fiennes is in almost every scene. He first played Coriolanus on stage, at London's Almeida Theatre, 10 years ago and the film is, to some extent, the result of unfinished business.

He wasn't unhappy with his earlier performance. But he'd felt there were sides to the Bard's rage-filled antihero that he'd been unable to convey in the theatre. "In a perverse way I love Coriolanus because he's so hard to like," says the actor who many thought should have won an Oscar (he was nominated) for his complex portrayal of a nazi SS officer in Schindler's List. "There was an interior life that I was starting to tap into but which could never be transmitted on stage where you just become someone striding around in anger, saying, 'I hate the people'."

In the cinema, close-ups allow the audience to look into Fiennes' eyes, making Coriolanus less monolithic, more knowable. We see deeper inside the man, who is at home in the masculine world of the military but emotionally stunted outside it, and, arguably, get to understand his flawed humanity better. "The moment that a man breaks the shell of his military conditioning," Fiennes says, "he's going to die." And so it goes.

The film's language makes few concessions to contemporary speech and Fiennes admits this was an obstacle when he was pitching the project. "People would go 'Um, will you be keeping Shakespeare's dialogue?' That was a big worry factor, that it would be a turn-off for audiences."

The movie's screenwriter, John Logan, shared his passion for the playwright's words, however, and they decided early on not to rewrite them. It's like "looking at a complex painting or listening to a difficult piece of music", suggests Fiennes. "It is a challenge. But I think it's a challenge people should rise to. Sorry," he adds, in a tone suggesting he isn't sorry at all. "You have to come with your ears open."

Less challenging is the modern setting (the movie was shot on location in Serbia), which is as instantly recognisable as any urban war zone seen on the news, while the film's action sequences are as dynamic, hard-hitting and raw as anything in Children of Men or Full Metal Jacket. To help potential backers understand his vision, Fiennes put together a book of photojournalistic images that reflected the story and drew parallels between the play's characters and real-life figures such as Jacques Chirac, Madeleine Albright, and Vladimir Putin.

"There was endless battle imagery that we have all seen from Iraq and Afghanistan," he recalls. He felt from the outset that the film would be a political thriller that resonated with our fractious and out-of-joint times. He wasn't thinking in terms of party politics or "isms", Fiennes says, but, like Shakespeare, in more general terms. "What I love is that what he is showing is the bigger perspective on the endless shifts of power. But this is a pattern that is particular to nowhere. It is a global dysfunction."

If anyone still had doubts about Coriolanus' relevance, they were swept aside when the film's premiere at last year's Berlin Film Festival coincided with the protests in Cairo and the beginning of the Arab Spring. Suddenly its scenes of popular unrest looked like they'd been ripped from the headlines.

"On the one hand it was odd," says Fiennes, pondering the timing. "But I think the things in Coriolanus are always going on. It's just that they're at the point of critical mass and have all come together. The world is in a state of complete uncertainty."

The economic uncertainty stymied Fiennes' first bid to finance the film in 2008 when "the big crash" sent interest in the project into reverse. Of course, he hadn't made things easy for himself by choosing a play with such a spiky protagonist. Fiennes, though, revels in portraying characters - from Schindler's Amon Goeth to the mentally disturbed lead of Spider, or Harry Potter's monstrous Lord Voldemort - that are often riven by internal tensions and not immediately accessible to the viewer. "I'm wary of this question, 'Is he or she likable?', he sneers. "I mean, f… off, I don't always want protagonists to be likable. Likable is rather deadly."

That said, playing Voldemort was particularly difficult, he admits, since J. K. Rowling had written a character that was so "creepy and evil and all-powerful and malign" that it made understanding him tough. "I was glad I had four films to try to get to the heart of him."

He will soon play Magwitch, the convict with a heart, in yet another adaptation of Charles Dickens' Great Expectations ("I couldn't resist having a go because it's a part that's not in my natural casting zone"), and the villain, probably ("that is classified information," he teases), in the 23rd Bond film, Skyfall. The actor is also set to repeat the "schizophrenic" feat of directing and acting with a period drama, The Invisible Woman, about Dickens' (Fiennes) affair with the young actress Nelly Ternan. He says he has been approached to direct other things, but cannot talk about them yet. Which begs the question of whether he can see a day when, like Clint Eastwood, he will give up acting for good?

"I can see why he would do that, not having to be on camera all the time, but I love being on stage," says Fiennes.

From The West Australian

Monday

Jessica Chastain Comes Into Bloom With The Tree Of Life

While most people's childhood dreams remain just that, Jessica Chastain is living hers. After being taken to a play by her grandmother at the age of five, and been awed by the spotlight falling on its 10-year-old narrator, the redhead from northern California announced that what she really wanted to be when she grew up, was an actor. She never wavered in her ambition, and when she was old enough enrolled in Juilliard on a scholarship funded by Robin Williams. Today, Chastain – born Jessica Howard - is one of the best kept secrets in cinema.

In the past four years she has made almost a dozen films with some of the most respected names in the business - Al Pacino (who directed and starred opposite her in Wilde Salome, which is due to premiere at the Venice Film Festival in September), Ralph Fiennes and Vanessa Redgrave (Coriolanus), Helen Mirren (The Debt), Emma Stone (The Help), Michael Shannon (Take Shelter), John Hillcoat and Gary Oldman (The Wettest County in the World) – but only now are most of them being released. First out of the gate is Terrence Malick's Palme d'Or winning cosmic epic, The Tree of Life, in which she plays wife and mother to Brad Pitt and Sean Penn, respectively.

It's an impressive body of work and Chastain is happy that finally people, including her mother - who wondered for some time what her daughter was doing in Los Angeles, because she didn't seem to be making movies - will get to see it. But she is also understandably anxious. “It makes me a little nervous, to be honest. Because I think, 'Okay, I made 11 films over four years and, gosh, how is my life going to be different at the end of the year when six come out?' My family and my friends are so supportive and helping me to kind of embrace the unknown, which is the only thing I can do, I guess.”

For her, acting has always been about “connecting to other people and exploring humanity," she says, "and by doing that it makes me feel whole. So the idea that I could, when the movies come out, meet strangers and them no longer be able to relate to me because they would no longer see that we could be the same, because I'm an actor, that worries me.”

Chastain has seen up close how “some people can be too nervous to talk to actors [because they're famous] or try to put them on a pedestal,”  and she wants none of it. “I just want to be normal," she insists. "And if someone tries to treat me that way it's going to make me crazy. I'm going to become a crazy actress, and I don't want to be.”

If her advancement seems meteoric, the 30 year old has, in fact, been working in TV – she was given a holding deal with producer John Wells before graduating - and the theatre for a number of years. She puts her current success down to making the transition from stage to the big screen under the auspices of Pacino. They worked together on the stage version of Oscar Wilde's Salome, and when they adapted it for film she got to see how the legendary actor modulated his performance for the cinema. “My whole life it had been theatre, theatre, theatre. So I was a little afraid because there's this myth of the camera. Everyone says, 'Theatre's big, the camera's small,' and I didn't quite understand. Then I got to watch Al Pacino go from the stage, where there's 1400 people in the audience, to the camera. And because he was also directing me, it was like an acting class every second. I don't think I would have this career without my acting teacher for that year,” she insists.

No one, though, has made as big an impact on her life as Terrence Malick. An air of mystery surrounds the press-shy auteur behind Badlands and The Thin Red Line, and Chastain had no idea what to expect when she flew to Texas to discuss The Tree of Life with him for the first time. “I guess because of the myth I expected someone in all black and a hat, with weird glasses, and messy.” Instead, she found a “normal, very simple man,” in a brightly coloured shirt, who took great interest in learning about her. “He's like my Tolstoy,” she says, smiling. “He's so educated, he knows so much about music, about theatre, about literature. He translated Heidegger. He was a Rhodes Scholar. He played football at Harvard. He's the first person I've met in my life that's good at everything.”

When it came to filming, his set was an ego-free environment, she says, where cast and crew were encouraged to be spontaneous. So spontaneous, in fact, that she instinctively rubbed pepper in Pitt's face during a domestic argument scene. The actor took it in his stride, apparently, and played along. “He's so inventive and spontaneous, I think he's a true actor,” says Chastain. “It's almost like he's a character actor trapped in the body of a leading man.”

She admits that the looseness of Malick's style, which included being allowed to say dialogue in any order, took a while to settle into. “The very first week of rehearsal I was so nervous, because I had so much insecurity. I thought, 'I'm going to get fired.'” She wasn't, of course, and the experience proved liberating. It also proved somewhat lengthy, because even after the film had wrapped, Malick would phone Chastain to ask if she'd record more lines for him.

“I'd be on sets or even up at Thanksgiving with my family and I would get a call asking me to put some stuff on tape, which of course I was very happy to do, and I would get a FedEx with 30 pages. I would go into a sound booth in Budapest or London, or wherever I was, with someone who had no idea who I was or what I was there for or what the movie was, and I would just whisper these lines, like 'Where are you?'” Most of it didn't make it into the film, she laughs, but it didn't matter. “I loved doing it. Maybe because I came from the theatre I just loved the idea of collaboration, and I liked not having a timeline.”

We may see her in Malick's next project, The Burial, for which she shot some scenes with Ben Affleck, although she's not confident she'll make it to the final cut this time. It won't matter if she doesn't, just the experience of being around American cinema's most secretive director again was enough for her. “I don't have a greater teacher in my life than Terrence Malick," she says adoringly, "and I think he will always be the greatest teacher I know.” Indeed, such is her devotion, you get the feeling she'd be happy to whisper her way through the Yellow Pages if he asked her to.

A version of this story appeared in Scotland on Sunday, 3/7/11

Cannes Review: The Tree Of Life


Terrence Malick has only made a handful of films in 38 years. So when a new one comes along, it is always an event - and yesterday's world premiere of his The Tree of Life, starring Brad Pitt, Sean Penn and the very busy Jessica Chastain, who also had
the disturbing apocalyptic thriller Take Shelter in Cannes, was no exception.

Filmed three years ago, the press-shy auteur's fragmented epic is challenging, bloated, sometimes boring, poignant and one of the most visually breathtaking films since Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Book-ended by a haunted-looking Sean Penn, the film is both an intimate family drama and an epic overview of the origins and fragility of life. With monumental ambition, Malick depicts the fiery birth of planet Earth from cosmic dust, and the origins of life on land. A vaguely twee scene with dinosaurs appears to show the beginnings of empathy, before the beasties are wiped out by a meteor.

After the awe-inspiring visual splendour of these elemental scenes, the sections focusing on the story of Penn's character's childhood in a small Texas town in the 1950s feel a little bathetic. His parents, played by Chastain and Pitt, personify the eternal struggle between good and bad that is at the heart of Malick's films. She is grace and love; he is ego, anger and disappointment.

Here the creation of the Earth becomes the development of a boy from childhood innocence to adult disillusionment and, his claustrophobic environment of vertiginous tower blocks seems to be saying, to a way of living that is estranged from nature and spiritually bankrupt.

The mixture of boos and applause that erupted at the end of the Cannes screening suggested the film will divide audiences. But then Malick has been doing that ever since The Thin Red Line. But love The Tree of Life or loathe it, it is impossible to fault Malick's ambition and not to admire a man who is making big, personal, non-genre films at a time when many filmmakers are playing it safe. Long may he continue. 
Originally published in The Scotsman, 17/05/11