FILM REVIEW: TO ROME WITH LOVE



Antonio (Alessandro Tiberi) and Anna (Penelope Cruz) in To Rome with Love.

Woody Allen, Italian Style

By Ed Rampell

Woody Allen is the motion picture poet laureate of New York Jews and one of the most successful independent filmmakers in history. With his 43^rdfeature length film, the 77-year-old legendary director-writer-actor returns to the screen in his familiar persona and with his recurring obsessions: The neurotic kvetching about death; shifting romantic entanglements; the lampooning of psychoanalysis; cultural commentary with pseudo-lefty politics; etc. Of course, there are the usual Allen-esque quips and sight gags, as well as a golden cast only a maestro of indies could conjure up.

However, Woody’s newest movie once again finds the quintessential New Yorker far afield from his beloved Manhattan. Since 2005’s U.K.-set Match Point, the Woodman has ventured forth to and been shooting on location in Europe. Vicky Cristina Barcelona and the Oscar-winning Midnight in Paris (Woody’s last -- and most financially lucrative -- film) were lensed in Spain and France, respectively. His latest work, To Rome With Love, is his third with a major European city in the title, and it is no less informed by a sense of place than his 1979 classic, Manhattan.

The latter opened with a glorious black and white montage of the town that never sleeps’ scenic sights set to George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, and was this Manhattanite’s morale booster for beleaguered urbanites and riposte to the Daily News’ famous front page headline about the then-President’s response on New York’s fiscal crisis: “Ford to City: Drop Dead.” Darius Khondji’s cinematography in To Rome With Love is no less a visual love letter to the Eternal City, with sweeping panoramic shots of the Roman Forum, the Spanish Steps, etc.

Since all roads, of course, lead to Rome, it was only a matter of time before this world renowned filmmaker found his way there. This Nero of neuroses’ all too human comedy has four totally separate storylines that may or may not be tangentially thematically related, something which has disconcerted some viewers and reviewers. Roberto Benigni -- who skyrocketed to fame in America with his thrice-Oscar winning 1997 concentration camp comedy Life is Beautiful, then promptly precipitously plummeted out of sight -- is, happily, back on the silver screen in a film intended for U.S. audiences. As Leopoldo Pisanello, Benigni plays a pissant paisano who complains about being ignored, only to then be mysteriously thrust into the limelight and besieged by  paparazzi. As the leaning tower of Pisanello experiences the perks and downside of fame, Allen concocts a clever commentary not only on the fickle nature of celebrity, but on Benigni’s audience-losing predicament offscreen. It’s all the more in the know because the word “paparazzi” is derived from Walter Santesso’s character “Paparazzo” in Federico Fellini’s 1960 Roma-set masterpiece, La Dolce Vita.

In the film’s subplot featuring Allen himself, he plays Jerry, a retired avante garde opera director yearning to make a comeback who is married to a shrink who is no shrinking violet, Phyllis (Judy Davis in her fifth collaboration with Woody). Their daughter Hayley (Alison Pill) is being wooed by a Roman attorney for the oppressed, Michelangelo (Flavio Parenti), whom Jerry considers to be a “Communist.” Jerry muses that in his youth, he too had been “left” -- but never a Communist per se, mainly because that would have meant sharing bathrooms. He’s also concerned that his pro bono pro-proletarian socialist son-in-law-to-be won’t be able to provide for his daughter.

In any case, Michelangelo’s father, Giancarlo (tenor Fabio Armiliato), has a voice to die for, which galvanizes Jerry’s operatic aspirations. There’s only one problem: Giancarlo can only sing under specific circumstances, and the resolution of this complication leads to what may be Allen's wildest sight gag since that gigantic breast ran amok in 1972’s Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex, But Were Afraid to Ask. Phyllis’ Freudian profession also provides Woody with what is arguably his wittiest one liner ever -- and that’s saying a lot.

Ellen Page’s Monica is the latest incarnation of the Allen-esque neurotic girlfriend, previously played on- and offscreen by his exes Louise Lasser and Diane Keaton (who perfected the bit). Page’s angsty actress entices an architectural student studying abroad, Jack (Jesse Eisenberg), into her antisocial network, as Alec Baldwin cracks wry world weary Woody-esque observations.  

In the fourth Italian-only storyline, Penelope Cruz’s voluptuous hooker Anna is anything but sexually inhibited. In another critique of fame, newlywed Milly (Alessandra Mastronadri) is led astray by movie star Luca Salta (Antonio Albanese), while Milly’s husband Antonio (Alessandro Tiberi) cavorts with micro-skirted Anna. To Rome With Love has dialogue in English and Italian; the Italian-speaking actors are subtitled.

Quo vadis, Allen? This film finds Allen true to and in top form, at the peak of his creative powers, still making the world laugh while imparting a whimsical, rollicking, romantic sensibility, as the eternal Allen meets the Eternal City.

Long may this emperor of humor and the human condition reign!     

 

  

  

 

LALIFF 2011: CHICO & RITA

A scene from Chico Y Rita.

True-ba-loney

By Ed Rampell 

Chico & Rita is another Cuban-music themed film, although it is actually an animated feature, not a doc, co-directed/co-written by Spanish filmmaker Fernando Trueba (director of 1992’s Belle Epoque starring Penelope Cruz).

Chico & Rita's animation is stellar, vividly bringing to life the Havana, Manhattan, Paris and Las Vegas of the 1940s/1950s. The music, too, makes this film worth seeing. However, the script leaves much to be desired. The Havana of bygone days looks glamorous, especially in comparison to today’s Cuban capital, which looks drab and shabby. Well, half a century of embargo may or may not do that to you, but the film's Havana of yesterday is largely devoid of that grinding poverty that inspired, oh you know, that little thing we call “revolution.” It wasn’t all mambo and showgirls under Cuban dictator and U.S. puppet Fulgencio Batista, don’tchaknow?

The love story between a pianist and singer is also remarkably stupid and senseless, full of celluloid stereotypes and completely absent of the sense of the ongoing bond a romantic relationship can generate between two people. The movie’s notion of love is, well, cartoonish; there’s a big difference between true, lasting love and obsession, don’tchaknow? 

But again, having said this, if you can overlook these points Chico & Rita is a fiesta for the eyes and ears, with some of the most compelling cartoon, animated erotic imagery since R. Crumb and Ralph Bakshi’s 1972 Fritz the Cat.  

FILM REVIEW: PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN IV

Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) in Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides.

Slow ride

By Allan Heifetz

Truth be told, I’m not a fan of the first three installments of Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. They always left me wanting less -- less characters, less CGI spectacle and less of a convoluted and confusing story. These movies, inspired by an amusement park ride, bludgeon you over the head with swashbuckling until you just want to close your eyes and experience something close to nothingness.

At any rate, I was sort of looking forward to Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, which comes four years after the third and most hated chapter, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. This time there is no Orlando Bloom (Will) or Kiera Knightley (Elizabeth) mucking up the works; Johnny Depp’s “delightful” Captain Jack Sparrow is now front and center and ready to give us a good time.

After pulling off the daring rescue of his pal, Gibbs (Kevin McNally), from a London jail, Jack runs into Angelica (Penelope Cruz), an old flame turned adventurer who happens to be the daughter of the infamous Blackbeard (Ian McShane). Against his will, Jack ends up on Blackbeard’s ship and is forced to guide the scary captain and his daughter to the fabled Fountain of Youth. At the same time, Jack's old rival, Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush), is sailing to the fountain as well, having snagged the job of captain on a royal expedition to plunder the fountain’s powers. Oh yeah, the Spaniards have a ship in the race, too (just one of many story elements that could have been easily ripped out of the movie). On their way Blackbeard and crew must find some ancient chalices and snag a mermaid’s tear to help them activate the fountain.

What I like most about the Pirates of the Caribbean movies is the makeup; a real sense of griminess and decrepitude permeates every scene. Everyone has horribly decaying teeth and is covered in soot. I could barely pay attention to the story for imagining just how ungodly these characters must smell. No toothbrushes? No showers? No vitamin C? Dear lord, can’t we just kill them all and let god brush their teeth? Pirates of the Caribbean: Stranger Tides coasts along on sheer spectacle for a good long while before that inevitable fatigue hits us. In the meantime there are some great set pieces, breathtaking crane shots of awesome looking ships and a pretty cool scene in which Jack's crew falls victim to a school of seductive and super vicious killer mermaids.

Running for a total of 136 minutes, Pirates of the Caribbean: Stranger Tides makes us wait two hours to get to the Fountain of Youth only to do absolutely nothing with the idea of a mythical magical fountain. Nobody ages rapidly and disintegrates in front of your eyes; nobody drinks too much from the fountain and turns into a baby or anything. Imagine if, at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981), Dr. René Belloq (Paul Freeman) opens the ark to find nothing but sand and then…that’s it. No screaming ghosts and no melting faces. That’s sort of what the finale of Pirates of the Caribbean: Stranger Tides is like.

Depp’s charm is palpable in Pirates of the Caribbean: Stranger Tides, but after two hours of Jack cracking wise, messing shit up and acting like a goof you sort of want him to stop the shenanigans, get angry and be a real hero. I prefer an action hero like an Indiana Jones who is serious, troubled, super-focused and will crack a joke only when cornered. Jack is too silly and unreliable to really get behind. All he does is stumble into tedious sword fights and swing on things. I hate to say it, but isn’t sword fighting in general fairly dull to watch? It’s especially dull in Pirates of the Caribbean: Stranger Tides since the film’s violence is completely sterilized and bloodless. After any given large scale sword fight you’re never sure whether everyone was killed or nobody was killed. Since nothing is at stake, you are never fully involved in the action. You know what Indy does to swordsmen? ‘Nuff said.

Cruz’s Angelica has all the gravitas of lovely Spanish wallpaper. She made me pine for the enchanting and smashed-in face of Knightley. Cruz was super shrill, annoying and hard to understand in Blow (2001) -- the first film she appeared in with Depp and in Pirates of the Caribbean: Stranger Tides -- and she continues from there. Clearly Jack and Angelica are supposed to have Indy/Marion Ravenwood (Harrison Ford/Karen Allen) like chemistry, but Pirates of the Caribbean: Stranger Tides has no classic reunion scene like the one in Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indy walks into Marion’s Tibetan tavern after all those years only to get punched in the jaw. Jack and Angelica run into each other, spew a lot of awkward exposition about their past and continue to bitch back and forth until the end. We don’t care about their love. McShane’s Blackbeard is quite frightening at first, but over the course of this endless movie he loses his presence. It would have helped if we knew why he had supernatural powers and if we got to see a bit of his back story.

Of course Keith Richards pops in for a meaningless cameo as Jack‘s pirate dad. What a horrible relationship this father and son have. Senior surprises Junior. Junior says “Hi, Dad.” Senior gives Junior some quick warnings in a pub and then vanishes into thin air when Junior isn’t looking. Wouldn’t a hug have been better?

Directed by Rob Marshall (Chicago; Nine), and credited to nine different writers, Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides doesn’t really improve on the previous films and, unless the next one gets an R rating, costs two million to make and is directed by Neill Blomkamp (District 9), I don’t have much hope for the franchise.

Oh, and of course the 3D glasses made everything a little darker and therefore had me wishing I could watch it in 2D. Idea: why not boost the brightness on the entire film one stop so the glasses will make the picture normal? Genius.