(Originally published in Drum Media, Issue 1036, 23/11/2010. Flipbook here, p71 http://streetpress.com.au/online_mags/DM/DM_1036/)
If you primarily go to the movies to: a) read wikipedia, and b) have your liberal leanings confirmed by Important Movie Stars, then Fair Game is the film for you. It’s a dutiful recap of the saga of CIA agent Valerie Plame (Naomi Watts), detailing her vengeful outing by White House officials, after her husband (Joe Wilson, played by Sean Penn) leaked details of the Bush Administration’s fabrication of details about WMD’s to justify the war on Iraq.
Truth be told (ha!), Fair Game isn’t terrible, and for the first half, it offers a reasonably engaging accumulation of various facts related to the case, with Watts giving her usual steely turn as Plame. If nothing else, it’s a gratifyingly strong female role in a Hollywood climate lacking in them. Unfortunately, director Doug Liman (of zippy entertainments like Go and Swingers) adopts a sloppy, tired docudrama aesthetic that makes one yearn for the formal precision of All the President’s Men - which this film poses no threat toward in the pantheon of fact-based political thrillers. This unimaginative filmmaking approach manages to diffuse much of the righteous anger that the story naturally provokes.
In the second half, the focus turns toward the strain that the fiasco places on Wilson/Plame’s marriage. But with little prior development of them as people, things turn dramatically DOA. Then Penn glowers wistfully at the Whitehouse (Oh, What Once Was!), gets up on his soapbox for a final spiel, and the muted colour scheme brightens up, ensuring everything will end up fine. There’s no doubt that Fair Game was made with the best of intentions, but ultimately its argument for a just and ethical US government is that there’ll be less films like Fair Game.
The Messenger
(Originally published in Drum Media, Issue 1035 16/11/2010. Flipbook here, p70: http://streetpress.com.au/online_mags/DM/DM_1035/_
The subject of the Iraq War has recently made for a number of great documentaries and TV series, and very few great – or even good – fictional feature films. A cynic could make the case for a good deal of The Hurt Locker’s hosannas being an overreaction in relation to preachy dreck like Lions For Lambs or Home of the Brave. Enter The Messenger, a account of the human toll of the war, to buck the trend.
On a military base in New Jersey, recently injured soldier Will (Ben Foster) is assigned to the Casualty Notification Team under the guidance of the older and more experienced Tony (Woody Harrelson), who shows him the ropes. After several harrowing experiences on the job, Will becomes intrigued by the curiously muted reaction of Olivia to the news of her husband’s passing, and a tentative relationship begins between her and Will that effects all three players in unpredictable ways.
That such an engaging, and unexpectedly entertaining film emerges from a premise based on what is often considered the least desirable job in the military, is largely a testament to Harrelson’s performance. As the motormouthed, tough-shelled career soldier, he undergoes a fairly standard arc; his cocky bravado eventually dissipating to reveal a broken man (cue waterworks-in-private scene). But he’s magnetic enough that his character’s familiarity is kept at bay.
Foster too, is a revelation, dialling down his usual bug-eyed scenery-chewing for a unexpectedly tender turn, and Samantha Morton is Samantha Morton, ie. incapable of a false moment as ever. A long, mid-film interaction between the two, played out in a single fluid take, is one of the best-acted scenes in recent memory. What could’ve been frustratingly opaque characters are given immense clarity in moments like this one.
The Messenger is ultimately an unabashed male weepie, and engagement with the film will depend on one’s threshold for wounded machismo. Indeed, it’d be roughly 30 minutes shorter without all the scenes of Foster drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, alone in his room with metal pumping in the background. But for fans of the ‘actor’s showcase’, it’ll be harder to find more flawlessly embodied grief and angst at the movies this year. It’s also a must for Steve Buscemi completists – his brief performance is one of his best.
0 comments:
Post a Comment