Movie Review: The Martian

The Martian (2015)

PG-13

3.5 Stars out of 5

Director                              Ridley Scott
Writer                                 Drew Goddard, Andy Weir (book)
Cinematography               Dariusz Wolski
Music                                  Harry Gregson-Williams

Matt Damon                      Mark Watney
Jessica Chastain                 Melissa Lewis
Kristen Wiig                        Annie Montrose
Jeff Daniels                         Teddy Sanders
Michael Pena                     Rick Martinez
Sean Bean                           Mitch Henderson
Kate Mara                           Beth Johanssen
Chiwetel Ejiofor                 Vincent Kapoor

 

Like similar tales that have come before (“Gravity” – 2013, “Cast Away” - 2000, “Apollo 13” - 1995, even “Robinson Crusoe on Mars” – 1964, and many more), Hollywood loves a good survival story. What could be more compelling than a resilient hero pushed to his or her limits fighting the environment and their own personal demons in order to survive? Combine this cinematic trope with some spectacular cinematography illustrating Martian landscapes, sprinkle in some reasonable acting from Matt Damon and the under-used Jessica Chastain; borrow some scenes from “Apollo 13” and “Gravity” (apparently when all else fails in space, you simply have to jump really, really hard in order to save yourself), and some (let’s say) irritating music from the Disco era, and you have the recipe for “The Martian”. That being said, it was a fairly entertaining film.

Mark Watney (Matt Damon) is on a mission to Mars with his disco music loving commander Melissa Lewis (Jessica Chastain) when a very nasty storm rolls in. Are such storms even possible in Mars’ thin atmosphere, and if they are what’s NASA’s plan for their escape module to avoid falling over in such a wind? These questions and more may run through your mind as you watch Mark get left behind by Melissa and the rest of her crew, Beth Johanssen (Kate Mara), Mark’s wisecracking buddy Rick Martinez (Michael Pena), and a couple others too insignificant to list here. Commander Melissa is led to believe by events that Mark is dead and as such leaves Mars with a heavy heart before her escape pod falls over and they are all stranded. Mark, of course (spoiler alert) is not dead. The bulk of the movie depicts how he is going to “science the heck out Mars” in order to survive. Needless to say, he has a few setbacks, but where there is a will, there is a way (at least in Hollywood).

To the movie’s and the writers’ credit, there is considerable time spent watching the team at NASA in Houston and JPL in Pasadena work with Mark to help him help himself. This movie borrows the scene from “Apollo 13” wherein some tape and a bunch of stuff on the table must be used in order to create a jury-rigged oxygen generator. “Apollo 13” had the benefit of being based on actual events; “The Martian” does not. Instead, we are asked to believe that Mark can solve a leaking space suit helmet with duct tape (it’s silvery, so maybe it’s NASA duct tape) and then shortly thereafter seal up his compromised habitat with the same tape and some plastic sheeting – remember, this is the same planet that had winds which just about toppled the escape pod. Oh well, its “science” fiction; emphasis on the fiction.

This type of movie follows such a set formula, you can almost set your watch to the events on screen: Mark solves a problem, next problem coming up in 3, 2, 1 seconds – bingo, go solve another one Mark. The writers do address this scenario in the very end during a lecture to new astronauts: they must be prepared to do just that, solve one problem, then another. So, maybe, this really is the way space travel is and will be conducted; or maybe, it just some kind of cinematic alarm clock that must be adhered to. However, formula or not, “The Martian” as directed by Ridley Scott and written by Drew Goddard based on a book by Andy Weir is exciting. You know problems are coming, you know solutions will always be there, so don’t worry about the predictability, just sit back and enjoy the ride. And it is an entertaining ride, a ride made the more enjoyable by the remarkable sceneries created to stand in for Mars coupled with some very poetic cinematography by Dariusz Wolski.

The technical tools used to make this movie, the build –up and release of tension and the frequently wry comments made by Mark as he addresses his seemingly hopeless situation help make this a fun movie. It quite probably would have been a better candidate for the summer blockbuster season, but considering how well it has done in the market place, it would seem the studio knew what it was doing when it released “The Martian” during the roll up to the Oscar-contending film release season. One other curious note about the movie is the use of large amounts of Disco music in the soundtrack. The screenplay has Mark complain fairly non-stop about Melissa’s musical choice, and I presume the viewers must assume she is the only one to have brought any music to Mars, but what was Ridley Scott and Drew Goddard thinking? Is there some musical or thematic reason to use this musical genre? Are they trying to drive the audience that much closer to the edge of their seats with musical anxiety? In any event, “The Martian” can fall into my guilty pleasures category. There are no surprises, no deep currents running in this movie, but it was a fun and thrilling ride to spend a rainy afternoon watching.

Movie Review: "A Most Violent Year"

A Most Violent Year (2014)

R

4.5 Stars out of 5

Writer/Director                 J.C. Chandor

Cinematography              Bradford Young

Music                                  Alex Ebert

Oscar Isaac                         Abel Morales

Jessica Chastain                Anna Morales

Albert Brooks                    Andrew Walsh

Elyes Gabel                        Julian

David Oyelowo                 District Atty. Lawrence

 

Since the 1970’s through the 90’s, movies like “The Godfather”, “Scarface”, and “Goodfellas” (amongst others) have set the tone in American filmdom for a kind of cinematic cult. Certainly it is genre, but the almost slavish adherence to the cinematography used with respect to framing, lighting and color plus the use of a central character as anti-hero, must make one wonder whether there is a school of thought and technique that many directors feel must not be violated. That just like the mafia life they depict in the movies, Coppola, De Palma and Scorcese (and others) make their movies to a code as strict as the code of omerta that guides the Mafia itself. In 2014, J.C. Chandor took on this code with his movie, “A Most Violent Year”. He took it on, adopted it, challenged it, and with a few minor missteps, improved on it.

Chandor has written and directed the story of Abel Morales (Oscar Isaac), the owner of a heating oil distributor in 1980’s New York. He is married to the daughter of the previous owner; an owner that practiced a much harsher and more illegal brand of corporate vision. Abel had worked himself up from driver and appears to be an immigrant. He hires others with a similar background; one of whom is Julian (Elwes Gabel). We first meet Julian on one of his runs to deliver heating oil to the company’s clients. On the way to make his delivery, he is stopped on the expressway and assaulted, his truck hijacked. We learn this has been going on for months and Abel’s business is suffering. His wife Anna (Jessica Chastain) in a Lady Macbeth-like manner that is true to her mafia father’s upbringing urges Abel to arm his drivers and to make a vigorous (read violent) response to his enemies. Abel, however, true to his nature and to the story’s premise, refuses to do so. He argues then and throughout the movie, that responding with violence will worsen the situation, not improve it.

When Abel seeks legal redress from the law,  District Attorney Lawrence (David Oyelowo) gives him a very frosty response. As Abel is soon to learn Lawrence is about to bring 14 counts of price fixing, tax evasion and various misdemeanors against Abel. Lawrence has been tasked to clean up the heating oil business and decided to focus on Abel, at least in part because of the legacy left to him by his decidedly not-by-the-book father-in-law. However, Abel remains polite, acknowledges the hard work Lawrence must do and leaves. To be sure, Lawrence thinks that Abel is being disingenuous and thinks Abel’s behavior is only an act. But this is in fact the real Abel. He does everything according to the law and with deep and true respect to everyone he meets; he may look like a gangster based on his clothing but he has the heart of good man. Whether Abel is polite and law-abiding or not, he is nevertheless ambitious and wants to grow his company. He does this by outplaying his competition on their home turf, likely creating the enemies he fears is hijacking his trucks. However to truly grow, he needs a new facility for his operations. As such, with the assistance of his attorney Andrew Walsh (Albert Brooks) he has entered into a 30 day escrow with a neighboring company that wants to exit the business. They are a Hasidic family-owned company with a heating oil tank farm that has many unused tanks and water access – two features Abel desperately needs. The problems mount for Abel as he tries manfully to meet the 30 day deadline on his escrow. If he fails to come up with the balance for the purchase of the property, he loses his down payment and ultimately his business. The attacks on Abel’s business by unknown parties continue, Julian makes several fatal mistakes, and his enemies seem to have Abel in a corner from which there is no escape.

The movie is filmed in browns, ochre, and with many of the interior scenes, in deep shadows. Abel is always dressed impeccably and always with a coat to match the cinematic color palettes used in the older mafia movies.  While these techniques alone might well do justice in honoring the older films, there is a scene where Julian is first attacked just past an expressway toll booth that seems to directly link this movie to the “Godfather” and Sonny’s departing scene. However, unlike Sonny’s exit, no one is shot. Later when Julian is attacked again, and despite having armed himself, again no one is shot. Chandor has the characters in this movie get so close to violence, but just not quite there. This appears at times to almost be a tease to the audience: will Abel or Anna or Julian actually defend themselves with a gun or not. It is an unusual kind of dramatic tension – certainly not one normally practiced in the iconic mafia films of the late 20^th century.

Another notable technique Chandor uses in multiple scenes is a very sedate pacing; often slowing the action down to a normal, non-cinematic pace. People talk in reasonable dialogs, rarely is there a sense of menace in their actions or voices. Even when Abel finally comes close to losing his temper in a meeting with his business rivals, he barely does so, and none of his rivals do much more than blandly stare back at him. No, the violence in this film is not really in the central story being told, but rather in the surrounding atmosphere. That atmosphere is highlighted by Greek Chorus-like voice-over radio descriptions of unrelated violence in the city. In fact, the title refers to the fact that 1981, the year the movie depicts, it was the most violent year in New York’s history (sadly, since eclipsed). The ironic contrast between the violence elsewhere in the city and the only near-violence surrounding Abel, or the contrast between this movie and its cinematic antecedents is striking.

Chandor has created a different kind of dramatic tension, one that more closely mirrors normal everyday life: will Abel get the loan and save his business or won’t he? There is also the artificial Hollywood tension: will Abel finally lose his patience and use the pistol he took from his wife. This is not to say that Chandor does not use some Hollywood tricks. Consider the scene where a car driven by Abel is raced at high speed through a dark, dust-choked tunnel. It is exciting and nerve-wracking as you wonder how it will end. But in this movie, it is far more likely a metaphor for Abel’s groping attempts to discover who his enemies are. It would be a major spoiler to reveal them here; suffice to say, their identity remains true to this movie’s core meaning: life is not a Hollywood movie. There are good people with some bad tendencies; tendencies that are sometimes acted on directly, but more typically, are simply allowed to happen with a wink and a nod. “A Most Violent Year” does honor the earlier mafia movies, but it is more importantly homage to normal life. A life filled with people who may well break the law, who certainly display a very poor understanding of right and wrong, but quite frankly simply don’t go around shooting people like Scarface with large caliber machine guns in their own living room.

This movie is beautifully made, intelligently inspired, and wonderfully acted. Indeed, the acting by Oscar Isaac continues to impress me (see also the recent HBO mini-series, “Show Me a Hero” for a poignant performance by Isaac that will leave you seriously moved). There are few points that I found wanting: an underused Jessica Chastain and a completely unbelievable exit scene by Julian. But otherwise, sit back and enjoy the life like pacing, the Autumnal color palette, the breathtaking cityscapes, and admire the real people that inhabit this movie, just as they inhabit the world we live in.

Movie Review: The Tree of Life

The Tree of Life (2011)

Four and half Stars out of Five

PG13

Mr. O’Brien (Father): Brad Pitt

Mrs. O’Brien (Mother): Jessica Chastain

Adult Jack: Sean Penn

Young Jack: Hunter McCracken

Director/Writer: Terrence Malick

Cinematography Director:  Emmanuel  Lubezki

Music: Alexandre Desplat

Film Editing: Hank Corwin et. al.

Terrence Malik has directed six movies with “The Tree of Life” being his fifth. His topics have ranged from John Smith and Pocahontas (“The New World”), to WWII (“The Thin Red Line”), to romance (“Days of Heaven”), to a romantic art film (“To The Wonder”). “The Tree of Life” has its own genre, one not usually seen in Hollywood: religious/philosophical/nostalgic.  “The Tree of Life” has been widely praised (it is on many Top 100 lists, won the Palme D’Or in Cannes, and is listed as the best picture ever by several critics), and widely panned. It is one of the most ambitious movies I have ever seen, but perhaps in a final analysis, it is a little too ambitious with its message.

The movie is told in four parts: the death of the O’Brien family’s second son, RL; the birth of the universe and of life on Earth; the birth and early life of Jack O’Brien (the first born child of the O’Brien’s) in Waco Texas, and a slice of time in the middle-aged years of Jack. The seemingly unrelated segments are linked by the philosophical and religious underpinnings to this story. The underpinnings at first glance seem to reduce to the eternal question: what is God’s intent with respect to Man. But then it has a second philosophical question to address: what is Man’s intent and his means with respect to Life.

The first question is strongly alluded to with a quote from the Bible’s Book of Job: “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth? When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for Joy?” Throughout this movie, various players within the movie are overheard asking questions, apparently to God the Father, but conceivably in some cases to their own father or mother. There is within the story’s overall structure a frequent sense of being disconnected from a powerful, perhaps loving parental figure. There is a near constant questing for answers, for a sense of understanding to the question of why we are here, and where are we going. The second part of the story, the part that depicts the formation of solar systems and then of life, provides a literal answer on the “how” of why-we-are-here, but of course leaves the “why” question unanswered. Near the end of the film as the adult Jack has a vision, we see the expansion of our sun into a Red Giant and the end of the Earth; thus, we see the physical answer to the where-are-we-going question. We see this even further defined in the last parts of Jack’s vision as he walks amongst the dead on a beach.

In the third part of the story, we are told the explanation to a topic first brought up by Mrs. O’Brien (Jessica Chastain) in the opening scenes of the movie: there are two paths in life for Man to follow, the path of grace or the path of nature. These paths of nature versus grace are first suggested in the second part of the movie, the part that illustrates the origin of life. We observe a dinosaur that “compassionately” does not kill a second dinosaur that is at the mercy of the first. Instead, it would seem this dinosaur chooses the path of grace. The metaphor is greatly expanded in the third part of the movie wherein the early life of Jack, his two brothers and his parents are depicted in Waco. That his mother is clearly the human icon for the path of Grace, while his father is the icon for the path of nature is made abundantly clear. Mr. O’Brien (Brad Pitt) made a choice early in his life to turn away from music for engineering. He has not become successful in this field and as a result carries a heavy burden of shame. After having been a stern father to Jack and his brothers and having lost his engineering job, Mr. O’Brien questions his own worth to Jack; Jack (having chosen the same path in life) rushes to reassure his father. Mrs. O’Brien has in the meanwhile been shown to be a person captivated by the joy of life as it surrounds her, and specifically in the joy of her three children.

Besides the philosophical aspects of the story, Malick himself grew up in 1950’s Waco Texas. For those of us that also grew up in this era, it is entertaining to watch the third part of the movie for the little details of life in the 50’s: the physical details like the beaded belts worn by little boys, or the bigger picture such as the sense of safety that permits people to leave their front doors unlocked or their children to walk home alone from school. The family life of the O’Brien family struck me as one not too atypical for life in the 50’s and early 60’s. The father works during the day, the mother stays at home to wash, clean, and cook. The father is a stern disciplinarian that walks a fine line between loving his children and guiding his children; the mother is there to pick up the pieces when the father crosses too far over the line into discipline. The movie makes much of the father’s delicate dance between his two desires towards the children, while the mother universally keeps to her single –minded path of love, of grace.

The final part of the movie is surely a complicated part. We see the adult Jack dealing with the passing of his younger brother and also with the upbringing he had at the hands of his father. To be sure, Jack was raised by both of his parents, but as he states in the movie, he is just like his father; he has chosen the path of nature. On the anniversary of the passing of RL, the adult Jack (Sean Penn) is filled with remorse; remorse for the lost little brother that “trusted him” (even when he shouldn’t have), remorse over a sterile marriage, and remorse over an unhappy life; a life buried in the stainless steel and glass canyons of Dallas – very far from his bucolic childhood in Waco. With his little brother dead and seemingly his loving mother, too, Jack is searching again for the answer to the big question raised by this movie; that is the meaning of life. Fortunately for Jack, he has a vision of walking through a portal in the desert. He meets his mother and his little brother once again. He sees many people on a beach, apparently happy and satisfied. Jack returns from his vision with a smile on his face.

This movie is gorgeous in both visual and musical imagery. Apparently, Malik chose to minimize the use of CGI and to use older techniques in order to create his vision of the origin of the universe and life (presumably this did not extend to the various dinosaurs depicted). That Malik had a vision for this movie and that he exercised his considerable skills to bring it to life cannot be doubted by anyone that has seen this movie. The only failure in the story from my point of view is that the viewer can sense Malik’s desire to send a profound message of hope and joy found by one path through life versus the despair and self-doubt to be found by the other path. I believe I can see and understand his message, but I was strangely unmoved by it. At a time in my life where I can be brought to tears by animated movies such as “Up”, I was simply not feeling the emotion I am sure Malik himself felt in writing and directing this movie. In the final analysis though, and despite being a scientist that has also largely chosen the path of nature, I concede his point. The path chosen and symbolized by the mother figure, Mrs. O’Brien, and so beautifully shown in the scene of her smilingly holding a butterfly is surely a wonderful and happy path to take in life. Is it the only way to understand and be content with the universe is a question I am not certain is so clearly true. I believe there are several ways to shout with joy for the universe.

Movie Review: Interstellar

Interstellar (2014)

Four and half Stars out of Five

Cooper: Matthew McConaughey

Brand: Anne Hathaway

Murph: Jessica Chastain

Director/Writer: Christopher Nolan

Writer: Jonathan Nolan

Cinematography Director:  Hoyte Van Hoytema

Music: Hans Zimmer

Christopher Nolan has consistently shown himself willing to take on difficult-to-tell stories (the reverse time flow of Memento is a good example). As the director and co-writer with his younger brother, Jonathan, Nolan has found with Interstellar an incredibly challenging story to tell. If one focuses on the science and time sequence issues, the story might be as confusing as 2001: A Space Odyssey. On the other hand, if one instead focuses on the father/daughter tale, it is a wonderfully emotional story than anyone can follow and appreciate.

The story is of a future Earth (with oddly contemporary trucks and cars) where a “blight” is systematically destroying the Earth’s food crops and converting the atmosphere to an oxygen-free version of today’s air. We are introduced to Cooper played by Matthew McConaughey and his immediate family, which includes a pre-adolescent daughter, Murph (Mackenzie Foy). These early scenes are often oddly comic in dialog but deeply sinister in foreshadowing. Borrowing sequences from Ken Burns’ documentary on the American dust-bowl, the viewer is shown that the Earth and her inhabitants have no future in this second dust-bowl.

Through a largely unbelievable story line Cooper is engaged by NASA to pilot a vessel to Saturn, enter a worm hole and venture out to three prospective new worlds where Humankind might begin again. There are logical inconsistencies in setting this stage, and the physics (despite being advised by Cal Tech’s Kip Thorne) require on several occasions much from the viewer, but then this is fiction, science fiction, and one must make allowances for this kind of tale.

The stage is a fantastic one, but like television’s The Walking Dead, the viewer is allowed to take in situations and people on this stage that are completely believable in this context and to take part in several scenes of overwhelming emotional intensity. This has always been for me the hallmark, even the raison d’etre for good speculative fiction, whether of a scientific or fantasy nature. That is to say create a stage where the story-teller can give the audience a tale that will involve them emotionally and inform them intellectually; and ideally tell such emotions and ideas that simply cannot be told without that fantastic stage.

The Nolan’s in Interstellar have created a story that makes intimate and completely requisite use of time dilation, of Einstein/Hawking attempts at a theory of everything (and of course, they get one – hey, it’s Hollywood), and to involve the audience in the effects of the former, and the necessity of the latter to save Mankind. Such a fantastic stage this is. And yet, because of the time dilation effects of immense gravity near a black hole, we are treated to a story of life-long love between a father and a daughter that simply cannot be told in any other way.

The acting by McConaughey and Chastain as the adult Murph are as in last year’s Texas Buyer’s Club for McConaughey and 2012’s Zero Dark Thirty for Chastain are easily Oscar-worthy performances. Indeed, this movie is filled with superb acting: John Lithgow as Coop’s father-in-law, Michael Caine as Brand’s father, Matt Damon and Anne Hathaway as fellow astronauts. But for me the highlight scene involved McConaughey reacting to a message from home – it was almost too painful to watch for its intensity.

Another great aspect of using the science fiction stage was the incredible special effects depicting the worm hole and black hole (though I must say, some of the space ship exterior scenes seemed oddly of a lower caliber). The editing near the end of the movie and the music score by Hans Zimmer throughout were of very high quality. The use in particular of an absence of sound for various space scenes to help give a feel for space versus the soaring music for other scenes of great emotional intensity were often spectacular.

I loved this movie and wanted so badly to give it five stars, but alas the science and logical inconsistencies won’t let me. But I did love this film and want everyone to see it. I’ll write elsewhere of the problematic parts that keep occurring to me after walking out of the theater.