Showing posts with label films. Show all posts
Showing posts with label films. Show all posts

Friday, November 26, 2010

eat pray love (the film): a review


I try to avoid reviewing books and films. In writing, at least. I do like to share what I love about them, what inspired me when I read or  watched them, but I don't like to criticise - because I know how much thought and effort is embedded within them. I try to restrict my criticism to politicians (with the exception of Obama, of course) and (the abomination)  Sex and the City II. So this review of Eat Pray Love, the film, will be a kind one, but one which will steadfastly defend the book I love so much.

I'm sure you probably know how much I love Eat Pray Love. It's not that I could relate to the book in its entirety. Elizabeth Gilbert and I are different in a lot of ways. She is of another generation, a different upbringing, a different culture. I have never been married, nor divorced. I am nearly two decades younger than she. We have differing religious beliefs. Nevertheless, I adore her. I don't think that we need to share life experiences or characteristics in order to be able to empathise with somebody's pain and joy. And because she is such a beautiful writer that you cannot help but fall in love with her... as long as you read her book with an open heart. Which I suspect a lot of jaded women have NOT been doing. (See, I am biased. Sorry!)

Anyhow, I watched the film a few weeks ago. I enjoyed it a lot. I cried in parts (three times, to be exact... the Thanksgiving dinner, Richard's confession and José's son leaving him). I laughed. I thought that Julia Roberts was a good fit for the role of Liz. I fell in love with the gorgeous Javier Bardem and James Franco. Ketut and Wayan were as charming as I imagined. The scenery was beautiful. 

The only thing about the movie that didn't quite sit right was the premise. Which, as you can imagine, is a pretty big deal. It seems to have ruined the film for people who have not yet read the book and now, are very unlikely to ever do so. David Stratton and Margaret Pomeranz - two movie reviewers I admire very much - are just two examples of disillusioned audience members. You can read their review here. (Please do. It's pretty funny.) Here is an excerpt: 

MARGARET: It is interminable and twee and unbelievably self-indulgent and the trouble is that much as you want to enjoy this character I just found I couldn't. I found it - I couldn't understand why she abruptly breaks up her marriage to begin with.

DAVID: No. That put me off right from the start because the husband seemed so...

MARGARET: ... and she caused a lot of hurt in the process and, oh, she's going off to discover herself and it sort of immediately sets up a tremendously selfish motive.

DAVID: It's a me, me, me film.

MARGARET: And I should sympathise with this woman more but - I tried to read the book and I actually couldn't.

DAVID: Ah, okay.

MARGARET: So I'm a bit with you on this.

DAVID: So I don't feel so bad not having read the book?

MARGARET: No. No, don't feel guilty. Not that you ever would.

DAVID: Not that I would, no.

MARGARET: Look, I'm giving this two and a half stars.

DAVID: Oh, really? Okay, well, I'm giving it one and a half.

Now, I would never dispute their right to have an opinion. And it is a very esteemed opinion at that. But here exists a clash - a clash of pre-ordained judgments of the film and the film failing to address those inevitable preconceptions in its storyline. What I mean to say is that Eat Pray Love was always going a film that would be heavily criticised. It is, after all, now considered a cliché for women "finding themselves", and Liz's journey is often made light of, sometimes in a nasty way. This column by Karen Brooks, for example, is particularly scathing.

It is clear to me that David and Margaret saw the film with the impression that it would be a bit of a self-indulgent joke. And that impression has been fulfilled, to the tee. The film DOES portray Liz as selfish and delusional. Her husband seems eccentric and perhaps a little selfish himself... but, of course, that is not reason enough to leave somebody and cause them so much hurt and pain. So of course David and Margaret think that Liz is utterly self-centred, and therefore deemed the rest of the film completely frivolous and worthless. Because the insensitivity and superficiality with which the divorce was dealt cheapened the journey itself.

The thing is, the divorce was glossed over in the book as well. But not because Liz made her decision to leave her husband lightly. It was out of respect to him; she did not want to delve into their marriage breakdown at all. She just made clear that she had loved him dearly, but she was desperately unhappy. It was not only his fault, nor was it hers. Well, in actual fact, they were both to blame. And the gulf between them simply could not be bridged. It was over.

Despite that, Liz details the pain of the divorce in excruciating detail. The divorce spanned over two years. He refused to acquiese, no matter how much she bequeathed him. (This is her ex-husband, by the way. Word has it that he also took off after the divorce was finalised, traveling through the Middle East providing aid to the needy. No need to judge whose journey was more noble... but he seems to be a good person.) Liz spiraled into a deep depression which, despite her best efforts, could only be curbed by medication. The film-makers clearly decided not to cover that ground. I understand their decision, I suppose. They wanted to make a feel-good, inspirational film, and launch into the eating, praying and loving as soon as possible - which is so much more fun than heartache and depression. 

By avoiding the melodrama of the book, however, the film presented as Liz's story as shallow. What on earth did they hope to achieve by the ridiculous divorce settlement scene, for example? Was it supposed to be humorous? Because all it did was make divorce seem like some sort of selfish bourgeoisie game. Which it is not. It is difficult, hurtful and incredibly sad. So, with all that in mind, it is natural that people who did not read, understand or relate to the book find the movie excruciating.

Please know that I am totally aware of the fact that screenwriters need to condense an entire book into a relatively short film, and that many nuances will be left by the wayside. Of course that is inevitable. But since that is the case, it should have been that the screenwriters had the foresight to realise that they would never be able to capture the complexity of a marriage within a few short minutes. And so they should have, quite rightfully, glossed over it. But with sensitivity. With the message that: "This was painful. This was hard. Whether or not it was the right thing to do, we will never know, but Liz was desperately unhappy and, after trying and trying to make it work, she did the best thing she could do for herself, and for her husband."

Okay. So I know that I am no professional screenwriter. In fact, I know absolutely nothing about it. Except that I watch films. And I like Elizabeth Gilbert. I don't like it when people criticise and don't offer a viable solution. So, for those EPL afficionados out there (for I know many of you exist, even if you won't admit it), here is my ideal exposition.... I would start with the famous bathroom scene. Where Liz is desperately asking God what on earth to do, because she doesn't want to be married anymore. That scene would reveal the gravity of her pain. With no need for explanations or justifications. Then go to Bali. Meet Ketut. Then tell her husband she is leaving him. I wouldn't have made him a character, as such. More of a shadowy being to represent Liz's intense unhappiness and dissatisfaction with her life. (Somewhat like the opening scenes of Antonioni's L'Eclisse... for film buffs.)

That's it. I think those three scenes would be enough. Then they could have launched into all the fun yummy stuff, like her love affair with bedroom-eyed David, traipsing through the streets of Rome, finding clarity in India, bicycling through the Balinese jungle and making love to Penelope Cruz's husband. Because that is all perfectly lovely and heart-lifting. But without the underlying backstory - without the journey from one state of being to another, which was the whole rationale behind the trip in the first place - it just has no meaning. The audience cannot be truly happy for their protagonist, because there is nothing to validate the transformation she undertakes. All we see is an incredibly beautiful woman sweeping from one privileged life to the next, from one loving man into the arms of another... and another. Why on earth should we care?

So that is my first review. What did you think of the movie? Have you read the book? I would love to hear your opinions!

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

groundhog day


Last week I watched Groundhog Day, for what was probably the trillionth time. It is a really wonderful, classic film.

I guess there is a lot that you can take away from it. The themes are intertwining and ever-lasting: self-improvement, prioritising, generosity, the pursuit of happiness, and all that.

This time, what really spoke to me was, how much we can fit into a day. I mean, if we truly fill our days to the brim, there is so much that we can do and achieve. Every single day is a fresh opportunity to learn something new, initiate a friendship, foster a skill, make a difference in somebody else's life... fall in love. Do something truly great. 

That realisation (or lack thereof) is something I really struggle with. I tend to embroil myself in a downward spiral, day after day, allowing the previous day's mood, worries and ennui to colour what happens the next... rather than nurturing the awareness that everyday is a completely blank slate, yet another chance to start anew (to break through walls we have built around ourselves; to change whatever needs changing; to dream; to take the next step; to cherish the beauty all around us).

“Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.”
— Siddhārtha Gautama

Friday, October 29, 2010

the infinite abyss

I am a bit of a nerd. A soul nerd. But also a story nerd. One of the things I do for fun is track down and read the original scripts of my favourite movies, trying to find the true heart behind the story, which is often hidden within the polish of the finished product. They are pretty easy to find (all you need is a little Google sleuthing) and it is fascinating to get an idea of how the draft was moulded and amended to create a profitable film. Plus, it's great practice for writing the Oscar-winning screenplay based upon my Man Booker Prize-winning novel. (Just kidding.)


I watched Garden State when it was first released. I loved it right away, and it has since been one of my favourite movies. There is something refreshingly awkward about it. I like that it's not a perfectly flowing film. I like the often jarring, messy dialogue, peppered with moments of hilarity. I think that has something to do with the writer taking the role of the director and the lead actor. The fact that Zach Braff's protagonist, Large, is not the cookie-cutter Hollywood heartthrob but, rather, a confused, floppy haired "soul nerd" with a dopey expression plastered onto his face, is endearing. And, of course, nobody can help but fall head over heels in love with the adorable pathological liar, Sam, beautifully played by Natalie Portman. (That said, Rachel Hills writes a brilliant article on her character, as well as Kirsten Dunst's Claire in Elizabethtown, being "the alternative flat female fantasy".)


The funny thing is that I think I only just "got" Garden State. Only after watching it again, for the first time in about a year, and reading the original script, equipped with my present whimsy-ness and disillusionment, have I finally grasped the message that Zach was trying to portray. I mean, I have always appreciated the film, even when I watched it for the first time at the age of 15. But, oddly enough, I had never really understood it before now. Which I think is an accomplishment, on Zach's part, to create a film which somebody can enjoy without absorbing it at all. It shows how multi-layered and universal it is. 


One of the analogies I have only just fully identified with is The Infinite Abyss. For those of you who don't know or don't remember, Large (Zach), Sam (Natalie) and Mark (Peter Sarsgaard) go on a little adventure towards the end of the film, trying to track down a momento (I won't spoil it). Their ultimate destination is a natural phemonenon, a huge underground crevice in the earth which was discovered during the construction of a new mall. There, they meet a family who live in a makeshift house, a boat on stilts, whose job it is to protect the quarry from the company who still want to build upon it. I guess I just like the idea of doing something completely unique, says Albert, the guardian of the infinite abyss. Something that has never been done before. Afterwards, Large, Sam and Mark stand in the pouring rain, on a tractor, wearing garbage bags, screaming into the chasm. And then Large and Sam kiss, for the first time. I had always disassociated myself from that moment, thinking that was just weird. But now I get the full picture; which is that the infinite abyss is, of course, life. We think that we are trapped, but we really have all the freedom in the world. And once we know it, we can use it. Tellingly, the film was supposed to be called Large's Ark, but nobody really understood what it meant.


Before this post ends, I just want to address the critics of this film. A lot of people hate it, with a passion. They say it is stupid, pointless, self-indulgent and boring. I won't dispute those reactions; everybody is entitled to their opinion and I don't doubt that they really felt that way about the film. I just wanted to say that I think that idiosyncrasy is what makes a great film, or website, or article, or book, or message. When you are watching or reading or hearing a story, those "aha" moments don't come when you come across an entirely universal, clichéd phrase or moment that you have seen a million times before. Those "shock treatments" occur when you come across something that you were convinced was completely unique to you... but watching or reading the piece makes you realise that, wow, actually, somebody else has had exactly the same thought or experience... isn't that funny? Those touching reactions can only be achieved with heartfelt honesty. They cannot be manufactured. And so, that is why I love films like Garden State. Of course, they are not for everybody. Which is exactly what makes them so special. 

Saturday, July 3, 2010

i'm a planet



I have watched Juno a few times over the last couple of weeks and each time I see this scene, I find it so touching and oddly powerful. The acting and dialogue kind of sums up the innate, biological inequity between men and women. Even in this case, where the guy is incredibly sweet and the girl is tough as nails, she is forced to carry the burden of their tryst. Under her sweater. Whilst he goes along with his life, as if nothing ever happened. And even though she clearly wanted that for him, she is heartbroken at the same time. And this is all portrayed with such lightness and humour. Simply perfection!

Monday, May 17, 2010

lay me down, by your side


This is Glen Hansard, the male lead in the incredible film Once, a modern-day musical set in Dublin, about a busker and an immigrant who fall in love whilst writing songs and singing together.

I would be remiss if I didn't also alert you to this beautiful, Oscar-winning song from the film, Falling Slowly (the clips reveal some parts of the film, so you may just want to listen if you think that you'd like to see it).

Once made me feel strangely grateful for not being naturally talented at anything (I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me, honestly, it's something I accepted a long time ago!) I think that extraordinary talent can be as much of a hindrance as a blessing. How could these characters devote themselves to anything but music? Yet, they had virtually nothing.

This is one of my favourite films ♥ Please watch it, on a rainy day. With chocolate.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

things (I think) you need to watch*

1. George Carlin Jammin' in New York. 2. The Office, Season 6, Episode 4/5. 3. My Flesh and Blood. 4. Mad Men, Season 1, Episodes 1-5 (then you are officially addicted!). 5. Scrubs, Season 5. 6. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. 7. Russell Peters Red, White and Brown. 8. Julie Delpy in 2 Days in Paris and Before Sunset. 9. Damages. 10. Eva Cassidy Live at Blue's Alley. 11. Project Runway, Season 1. 12. Once. 13. Obama's democratic nomination speech. 14. Little Miss Sunshine. 15. Go Girls.

* please keep in mind my love of the romantic, lame, politically incorrect, guilty pleasures, tear-inducing, French, God-denouncing, thought-provoking, etc.

Friday, December 18, 2009

paris je t'aime



Directed by Tom Tykwer, starring Natalie Portman - one of the many short films (my favourite) in Paris, Je T'aime.

Friday, November 27, 2009

bran nue dae



"A classic indigenous Australian coming-of-age road trip adventure musical." I can't wait to see this :)