Daily Archives: February 23, 2010

Coco Before Chanel

Coco Before Chanel tells the story of Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel, who beganher life as a headstrong orphan, and through an extraordinary personal journeyovercame her impoverished childhood and defied societal convention to become a legendary couturier who embodied the modern woman and becamea timeless symbol of success, freedom and style. The problem, though, is that there’s not an ounce of honest dynamism in this stuffy biopic, and so it plays out on a purely textual level, as a yawning exercise in heritage cinema, with a slight spritz of self-congratulatory, up-with-gender promotion.

Audrey Tautou stars as Coco, who as a designer ahead of her time eschewed corsets and derided the fashionable “meringues” of women’s headwear as akin to “being in a pastry shop.” She journeys from amundane seamstress job to boisterous cabarets to the opulent Frenchcountryside, possessing little more than her unwavering determination,unique style and visionary talent. Her headstrong nature eventually puts her somewhat at odds with her more pragmatic sister Adrienne (Marie Gillain), and also causes complications with a pair of would-be suitors, Etienne Balsan (Benoît Poelvoorde) and Arthur Capel (Alessandro Nivola).

Coco Before Chanel is directed by Anne Fontaine (The Girl From Monaco, In His Hands), from ascreenplay by she and Camille Fontaine, with the collaboration ofDangerous Liaisons scribe Christopher Hampton. It’s based loosely on the book Chanel and Her World: Friends, Fashion and Fame by author Edmonde Charles-Roux, the former editor-in-chief of French Vogue, so there’s plenty of an exhaustive sense of the background fashion detail. The movie was also selected to close the 2009 Cannes Film Festival, which is partially a case of boosterism, to be sure, but also an indication of just how innately nationalistic this story is, despite Chanel’s stature in the fashion world.

Part of the chief problem is evident in the title, which tips the hand of the film’s area of focus. In portraying theformative years of Chanel’s life, only the years Chanel spent discoveringand inventing herself before she became the most famous fashion designer of the 20th century, the movie robs itself of any real, legitimate chance at connecting with audiences for whom her name means nothing — or at least nothing outside of the vague recollection of some perfume ad postcards tumbling out of a magazine at a newsstand. All the accouterments are just so — from a lush score by two-time Academy Award nominee Alexandre Desplat and gauzy yet involving cinematography from Christophe Beaucarne to equally detailed production design work from Olivier Radot and exacting costumes by Catherine Leterrier — yet the screenplay is awfully academic, and formal. There is the sense that Coco uses fashion as an emotional shield, but Fontaine constructs a wall that treats personal desire and professional ambition as separate, discrete things.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Coco Before Chanel comes to DVD presented in 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen, with a static menu screen divided into 28 chapters. An audio commentary track with Fontaine anchors the bonus materials, but a superlative, seven-part, subtitled making-of documentary, running 46 minutes, is like manna from heaven for those who want to soak up all the details surrounding in particular the movie’s sumptuous costumes and production design. A separate 18-minute featurette, subtitled “La Rencontre (The Meeting),” includes chats with Tautou, her director, and her costars; Fontaine places Chanel tied alongside Edith Piaf in the canon of famous Frenchwomen, while Poelvoorde says she made huge contributions to “the well-being of generations of French [females].” Somewhat appropriately for such a fashion-centric title, there’s also an eight-minute featurette which tracks the movie’s red carpet premieres, from Los Angeles to New York and in between. Rounding things out are a gallery of preview trailers for Paris 36, I’ve Loved You So Long, Every Little Step, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus and other Sony home video titles. To purchase DVD via Amazon, click here. C- (Movie) A- (Disc)

Michael Smerconish Explains Leaving the GOP

Over at the Huffington Post, Michael Smerconish explains why he’s exited the Republican Party, writing, “Where political parties once existed to create coalitions and win elections, now they seek to advance strict ideological agendas.” I don’t know that I totally agree that that statement accurately portrays the Democratic Party, but he’s right that the current level of public discourse is fairly laughable, and the general political atmosphere one of toxic stasis. His defection to “Independent” status also points out the cruel, protected self-interest of the Republican and Democratic parties alike — the ridiculous status quo that most voters still labor under. A dedicated and informed voter since 1980, Smerconish is now unable to vote in primary elections, since Pennsylvania law prohibits unaffiliated voters from “crossing over” and choosing a single party’s primary in which to take part. Since reasonable congressional re-districting won’t be taking place anytime soon, at the very least that needs to change, in every state in the union.

The Yellow Handkerchief

If the funky, energetic The Runaways is the film
that proves Kristen Stewart has a future outside of movies with
vampires and Robert Pattinson, The Yellow
Handkerchief
is the pleasant, slight, oblique character study
that finds her not yet in full control of her instrument, and trading
in familiar, telegraphed cues of adolescent distress. An idyllic road
trip, not played for any particular peril or menace, through
post-Hurricane Katrina Louisiana
, this wistfully pitched
travelogue/mood piece works best as a showcase for William Hurt.

Fresh out of prison and dealing with a painful past, taciturn Brett
Hanson (Hurt) crosses paths with troubled teenager Martine (Stewart)
and Gordy (Eddie Redmayne, above left), an eccentric loner. The latter has a car,
and Martine wants to hit the open road but also wants a father-figure
protector, so some back-road meandering ensues. Along the way,
conversation and doleful introspection impacts both mindsets and
relationships
, leading to the possibility of new life choices. Brett
weighs trying to track down his ex-wife May
(Maria Bello), for whom he still yearns. Martine, meanwhile, wants to escape her
family, while the pathologically introverted Gordy hopes to just get
close to her.

Attractively, almost plaintively photographed, and directed in
humanistic fashion
by Udayan Prasad, The Yellow
Handkerchief
flashes back and forward in time, charting
Brett’s relationship with May as well as its 2005 present day. Despite
the revelation of the reason behind Brett’s incarceration, there’s
really no grander sense of mystery tugging the film forward, and eating
at the edges of these three strangers’ relationships
. And so its
dawdling pace is never truly earned. Shuffling the temporal deck a bit
in favor of chronology, and reframing the story more through Brett’s
eyes would be the best thing for this story. The kids are all right,
beset by wanly defined problems that can’t (and shouldn’t) be neatly
wrapped up in any story arc of just a couple days. It’s Hurt’s keenly
observed hurt that is most mesmerizing, though, which makes The Yellow
Handkerchief
chiefly a reminder that he’s too infrequent a
big screen visitor, at least in roles of such layered quietude. (Samuel Goldwyn, PG-13, 102 minutes)

Michael Cera Hosts Screening of Freebie and the Bean

Exercising his inner film programmer, Youth in Revolt‘s Michael Cera has tabbed Freebie and the Bean as one of his favorite movies, and slated it for a special screening as part of the Comedy Death-Ray series at the Silent Movie Theatre in Los Angeles, on Sunday, March 14 at 8 p.m. Directed by Richard Rush (The Stunt Man, Getting Straight), the movie is a veritable “who’s who” of ’70s film awesomeness, starring James Caan and Alan Arkin as a pair of racist, homophobic and misogynist San Francisco supercops. But here, let Cera explain: “Filled with car crash sequences, guns, yelling, transvestites and Alan Arkin, Freebie and the Bean has got to be the best buddy-cop film of 1974,” he raves. Tickets are $14; for more information, including the movie’s trailer, click here.

FlashForward: Season One, Part One

FlashForward (one word, that — the two-word spelling must be tied up already, copyrighted as some big screen Flash sequel) is the latest serial drama to try to capture the same lightning in a bottle that Lost did, with its survivalist blend of mythology, sci-fi elements and base-level humanistic drama. No tropic polar bears here (there is a kangaroo, however), but instead there’s a somewhat template-familiar grand, mysterious event, some knowing exploitation of temporal shifts and of course an injection of law-enforcement muscle, the better to make bait a primetime audience looking for something other than (at the time) Jay Leno’s same old shtick. Co-creator David Goyer will shortly be leaving show-running duties, busy on a quiet little project for Warner Bros., it seems. But after an interrupted run, the series returns to ABC on March 18; this DVD release is timed to drum up support for that marketplace reentry.

Based loosely on a novel by Robert Sawyer, FlashForward unfolds in Los Angeles, in the aftermath of a bizarre phenomenon which causes everyone in the world to lose consciousness at exactly the same moment — blacking out for 137 seconds on April 30, 2010, at 1:00 a.m. Eastern time, and glimpsing a series of events from their own future. Naturally, some events are mundane, but positive, others are terrible, and others simply strange and unknowable. Uncertain as to whether the incident was a freak act of nature or something man-made gone wrong, an elite law enforcement team, including FBI agents Mark Benford (Joseph Fiennes) and Demetri Noh (John Cho), jumps into investigatory mode, trying to make sense of a security camera surveillance video from the blackout in which a conscious man is seen wandering about. Most of the rest of the world’s population, meanwhile, wrestles with end-time possibilities and more personal dilemmas, including the choice of whether to embrace the fates they’ve seen, or fight to change the future.

The show’s pilot episode is superb, with Goyer getting lots of mileage out of the admittedly cool, breezily seductive premise; it certainly helps that he concretely establishes a world with consequences, as mass casualties resulted from those flying planes, driving cars or performing operations suddenly blacking out, along with those in their care or stead. This tells us the show isn’t going to be some massive, pointless jack-off. But as it unfolds, some of the plot contrivances wear a bit thin relatively quickly, certain portions of the narrative friction seem stock (do we really need to delve into the head-drama of another alcoholic law enforcement officer?), and the dialogue comes off as a bit hokey at times. All 10 episodes of the show’s debut run are included here, and there’s a decent blend of mystery, menace and bear-baiting excitement. It’s the future bends of the road that will determine the final grade for this exercise in genre mash-up, however.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray two-disc case that in turn slots in a glossy cardboard slipcover, FlashForward comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, and its transfer, free of digital artifacting but marked by a bit of grain, is fairly solid, preserving a visual scheme that is heavy on gritty, depressive hues of blue and green. Audio arrives in clear, nicely balanced Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound tracks, with optional English, French and Spanish subtitles. Special features consist of a seven-minute look at the special effects work involved in creating the series’ catastrophic leaping-off point; on-set interviews with Goyer and crew members showcase the exacting mix of practical effects and CG elements utilized. Also included are a pair of brief preview featurettes, one narrated by Dominic Monaghan, that tout and tease the rest of the first season. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. B- (Show) B- (Disc)