THE SHEER DELIGHT OF WATCHING HIM RISE

DIRECTED BY CHRISTOPHER NOLAN 

STARRING: CHRISTIAN BALE, ANNE HATHAWAY, TOM HARDY, MICHAEL CAINE, GARY OLDMAN, MORGAN FREEMAN, JOSEPH GORDON-LEVITT with CILLIAN MURPHY, JOSH PENCE and LIAM NEESON 

I liked ‘the Dark Knight Rises’ in much the same way that I liked ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II’ and I trust that by saying that I mean no one any discredit. I had always wondered if J.K. Rowling had thought things through to completion before she even began with the franchise – it’s a mystery that has so far been unexplained. But I know for a fact in the case of Christopher Nolan that nothing was preordained. The script to the third film was ‘cracked’ as he puts it; the ends were tied. And it all comes down to how well he could do it. 

So how well has he done it? We shall have to look at the source material for that, regardless of the fact that the screenplay is original and penned by Nolan along with brother Jonathan. The film introduces three characters from various phases of the Batman spectrum as published by DC comics, but the focal point as far as I could see was in the introduction of Bane as a physical counterpart to a fairly weakened Batman. Bane seems to have first appeared in a comic called ‘Knightfall’ where he’s famous for having broken Batman’s back – it was a moment’s half-smile to see the scene repeated on screen, rather religiously. 

Bane (Tom Hardy) breaks Batman’s back, Selina Kyle has his. Nolan has always done a wonderful job of giving comic characters enough human features to inspire empathy in all. Even in the most apathetic character of his – the Joker – he could bring about understanding, if not get us fit our feet in his shoes. Selina, played by Anne Hathaway enhancing the shades of haughtiness we saw in ‘Havoc’, is as capable of vulnerability as Batman wears on bat-suit sleeve. Bane, we see, is capable of some of his own as well. All these people are humans behind their masks where not all who are unmasked are as human as we might see them to be. We had Ra’s Al Ghul (Liam Neeson) and Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy, who returns for a rather pointless, but exciting, cameo) in ‘Batman Begins’ as examples. In ‘the Dark Knight’ we had Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart). That we have yet another in ‘the Dark Knight Rises’ is all I shall say at this point in time. 

Why I felt the need to consult source material was to show the ropes of responsibility that seem to have tied Nolan to the wall as he wrote this screenplay. For all you know, the ropes could be his own, where he wouldn’t want to do injustice to the film from two angles very dear and extremely competent – the previous two films on the one hand, the comic books on the other. There are two loose ends that he’s tied together with fond recollection and a lot of nostalgia inspired by means of spirituality that goes back to ‘Batman Begins’. There’s also a vague rekindling of the Joker’s famous social experiment from ‘the Dark Knight’ that doesn’t work as well the second time around. 

Nolan, thus, looks over his shoulder with a perpetual eye on the past as he makes his way ahead. The result is a heavily-directional pile of sequences that do little but propel the story forward. One of the most fundamental of reasons as to why I liked ‘Batman Begins’ was the power of its scenes where every single one of them stand out. ‘the Dark Knight’, I thought, was a close match, and it is in this aspect that ‘the Dark Knight Rises’ is a little bit of a letdown. I’ve always seen Nolan to be a man capable of bursts of genius alongside constant action so that the bar-chart doesn’t hit a low anytime. But ‘the Dark Knight Rises’ is a little too active for its own good. It’s like he shot a lot of scenes and found a way to fit them in on the editing table. 

Of course this doesn’t imply a complete lack of glory. Batman contributes to ample heroism in the limited screen space he has (Bruce Wayne dominates, even though not as convincingly as he did in ‘Batman Begins’). Selina Kyle does justice to a cameo stretched to the limit with one-liners that thrive on Hathaway’s grace. Bane has his moments in that, as I mentioned before, he’s almost a sort of body double; someone who could match Batman blow-by-blow. There is suspense that’s kept alive right up to the end and there is ambiguity, some cheeky stuff as well, which Nolan has proven, time and again, to be capable of. And then there are scenes that cry for attention as though they’ve been compelled to exist – like the one snapshot that’s supposed to sum up the spirit of the film on the whole, which looked posed and arranged than natural. That didn’t stop me from screaming myself hoarse at it, though. 

I disapproved of Nolan the last time he tried his hand with a big haul of actors (‘Inception’, to be specific). This isn’t to say he didn’t manage to ‘pull it off’ but to say that he does just that. In ‘the Dark Knight Rises’ we have too many characters with too little time – to an extent that one of them has to sleep with Mr. Wayne in a show of desperation. If it’s not fair on part of the characters, it’s even worse on the actors’ front. Aside from regulars Michael Caine (whose Alfred, this time, lacks the usual spice of sarcasm on a melodramatic high), Morgan Freeman (as Lucius Fox, who looks too composed for one put in a spot) and Gary Oldman (Jim Gordon spends too much time on a comfy hospital bed as the rookie runs around), we have Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Det. John Blake who interns with the Batman before recruitment for a permanent job. And we have Miranda Tate, a pioneer of Fusion Energy at Wayne Enterprises, a role that Marion Cotillard, I thought, shouldn’t have been cast in. 

 If there’s one thing I’d give Nolan total credit for, it’s that he knows his action choreography. Ben Affleck ('Gone Baby Gone', 'the Town') is the only other name that comes to mind when I think in those terms. ‘the Dark Knight Rises’ has more than usual – some too dull at times to put on the same pedestal as the man behind them. I could deal with that, though. This is, after all, a two-and-a-half star movie that gets three for the show. Except I’d give it four because I love Batman like that. And for Hans Zimmer and for the love of cheese.

MY OSCAR PREDICTIONS - 2011

Let’s keep it honest. I’ve watched about three-quarters of the nominees, I’ve soaked in the buzz, I suppose. About a day to go and this is when I thought I’d get word out on my own. An urge, the thought of having had a say, of having said something before it doesn’t matter anymore. Everyone wants to talk about the Oscars, good or bad. I’ve had my opinions, and I took the month to validate them. Some changed, some diversified. Some things just got unclear, too personal to have a say.

I’m only going to be discussing those sections where I have enough to corroborate. As for the rest, I shall humbly recline from saying anything. In all, the nominations, in my opinion, have been fair enough. I mean, they could’ve been worse, so it’s typical Oscars. Could’ve been worse, but just about managed to keep its dignity intact. Still, no ‘Shame’, no ‘Drive’, no ‘Martha Marcy May Marlene.’ No ‘Melancholia’, for the depression buffs, even though for me it’s a good thing.

Without ado, let me get on with my opinions on the nominees as well as predictions on who I think would win, and who I want/wanted to. The pattern would be self-explanatory, I guess I wouldn’t have to walk you through it. Let me let you enjoy your walk by yourself.

Best Picture

I know ‘the Artist’ won everything else, but all roads point to ‘Hugo,’ I think. The sad part is I haven’t watched it to have a clear opinion. ‘the Help’ had won Screen Actors’ Guild, ‘the Descendants’ had a Golden Globe win too. ‘A Separation’ would have been a major threat and has conveniently been excluded. I really don’t have a preference for Best Film, but I hope they don’t go ahead and honour Artists for the Filmmaker category, that sounds strangely sacrilegious.

Best Direction

Alexander Payne. ‘the Descendants’ is not going to win anything else, it’s not half as loaded as his brilliantly-written ‘Sideways’ to win the Screenwriters’ prize. Besides, face it – this is the single most impressive film that’s almost entirely a director’s credit as the Actor supports. Payne is one of America’s finest filmmakers of this generation; he deserves it more than anyone else. It would have been a different story had Nicolas Winding Refn (of ‘Drive’) been nominated. I’d still vouch for Payne. For ‘the Descendants,’ to me, has been the single most delightful movie event of the year.

Best Actor

One of the most substantial set of nominees in any award category this year. Michael Fassbender (for ‘Shame’) replaces Brad Pitt’s formality, and I think it’d be THE perfect set. Joseph Gordon-Levitt (in ‘50/50’) played an important role as well. Anyway, I think it’s between Gary Oldman (for ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy’) and George Clooney (for ‘the Descendants’). Clooney carried an entire film on his shoulders and well while Oldman played it simple and played it smart at that. Demian Bichir (for ‘A Better Life’) could be the buffer – the Surprise package. I vouch for Clooney but something tells me Oldman would bag it. He’s the virgin. Please no Dujardin. I need a break.

Best Actress

The Weinsteins make reservations – one for the money and one for the time – displacing two of the defining performances of the year. Elizabeth Olsen for ‘Martha Marcy May Marlene’, who gets my personal Oscar, and Kirsten Dunst for ‘Melancholia’, which, easily, was a career-best. Rooney Mara is the wrong young girl and it doesn’t make sense to nominate Meryl Streep anymore. Glenn Close was refreshingly subtle in ‘Albert Nobbs,’ although I think it’s a toss-in between Viola Davis (for ‘the Help’) and Michelle Williams for nailing her version of Marilyn Monroe in ‘my Week with Marilyn.’ Intuition points at Ms. Davis while my heart goes out for Michelle. She should have won it last time. She should win it this time too. Or so I think.

Best Supporting Actor

I haven’t watched enough movies to take a stand.

Best Supporting Actress

Hailee Steinfeld (for ‘True Grit’) was shifted from ‘Best Actress’ to ‘Best Supporting Actress’ last time so that she’d stand a chance – something she didn’t have against Ms. Portman sweeping the floors everywhere. Berenice Bejo (for ‘the Artist’) looks like this year’s version. It's a Weinstein move. Anyway, Octavia Spencer (for ‘the Help’) seems a universal favourite in a Dreamworks sweep. No Carey Mulligan (for ‘Shame’ and ‘Drive’). No Charlotte Gainsbourg (for ‘Melancholia’). Jessica Chastain for the wrong movie. I was impressed with Janet McTeer’s performance in the offbeat ‘Albert Nobbs.’ She gets my personal vote. Chastain gets my heart. And I go with Ms. Spencer as most probable, safely said.

Best Original Screenplay

‘A Separation’ in its only big nomination (aside from ‘Foreign Language Feature’) in a bunch of the inconsequential and the lacklustre. ‘Midnight in Paris’ is second best. This ought to be the most unoriginal year in the history of the Oscars; the year of adaptations and second-takes. ‘Win Win,' the American feel-good film of the year, hasn't been counted in. Or ‘50/50,’ the autobiography of a cancer-survivor who still hasn’t lost it in life. Disappointing. I’m glad the Iranian sneaked in. Otherwise, we’d have nothing to show.

Best Adapted Screenplay

Why do I think ‘Moneyball’ doesn’t deserve a single place in the Oscars this time? Because I haven’t watched it, perhaps. Nevertheless, Aaron Sorkin, who wasn’t rewarded last time when he stretched a one-liner story to film’s length with ‘the Social Network’ needed mention, I suppose. ‘the Help,’ I thought, was tidy. Like ‘the Ides of March’ or ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy’ – Tidy. That’s about it. Both my ignorance and precedence points at John Logan and his ‘Hugo.’ Alexander Payne needs the bigger prize. Pals Nat Faxon and Jim Rash better excuse him for that.

Best Animated Feature

A complete DreamWorks sweep, and I wonder why ‘the Adventures of Tintin’ hasn’t been counted in. Maybe a clause violation, I wouldn’t know. ‘Cars 2’ is the best. Any list without it doesn’t get my attention in any denomination. I think that’s enough said.

As for the rest, I think ‘A Separation’ deserves both the awards it has been nominated for, but that’s only because I think it deserves more. Ludovico Bource for ‘the Artist’ was succinct with his music score, but then Alexandre Desplat (for ‘A Better Life’, ‘my Week with Marilyn’ and on a darker note, ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II’) has not been nominated. Or Michael Giacchino for ‘Cars 2’, two of the most important musicians of the decade. Too bad ‘Midnight in Paris’ can’t fall under Original Score. Or ‘the Descendants’, for that matter. There’s too little to decide between for ‘Best Original Song,’ there hasn’t been a worthy musical this year. I’d pick ‘Rio’ over ‘the Muppets,’ even though I love Jason Segel. A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

‘Transformers: Dark of the Moon’ gets multiple nominations for mixing and editing machine noises in a ‘Linkin Park’ soundtrack? Ridiculous. ‘Drive’ needs its consolation prize. So does the unnecessary effort behind ‘the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo’, I think. For the first time, we saw Hogwarts broken with so much fire, so convincing it touches your heart. The ‘Harry Potter’ franchise needs its recognition from the Muggle world. Nominations just don’t work anymore. ‘the Tree of Life’ can get the Photography prize, although I thought ‘A Better Life’ needed nomination. As well as Darius Khondji for ‘Midnight in Paris.’

Every critic has his Oscar dream – pre-nomination, post-nomination. Dreams, grievances; the little elation at seeing your horse win. I’ve taken my time to voice mine. Now I feel relieved. Relieved that I’ve shared, that I’ve spoken before it’s too late. And I hope you don’t sit with a clipboard and grade me on how much I’ve got it right. After all, I’m just another who waits for Wikipedia to tell me who has won.

DOESN'T GLITTER, DOESN'T LIE

DIRECTED BY TOMAS ALFREDSON

STARRING: GARY OLDMAN, BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH, TOM HARDY, TOBY JONES, COLIN FIRTH, CIARAN HINDS, DAVID DENCIK, KATHY BURKE, STEPHEN GRAHAM, SVETLANA KHODCHENKOVA with SIMON McBURNEY and JOHN HURT

Imagine a James Bond title sequence. Bond on his way into a mission most definitely involving killing – double agents, men who know too much – whoever. He’d be all stealth and slickness on his way in, helter-skelter on the return trip. There is no easy way out. Five minutes of Steve McQueen styled muscle-car action, a couple of explosions and a triumphant stance, we’d have the title credits roll, of girls and guns and maybe even gold. A brief post-title, pre-introduction scene would feature Bond being told off by a half-amused-half-startled Judi Dench (a.k.a. ‘M’), words he’d conveniently dust off his blazer. Before we know it, he’d be on his next mission, stepping into the actual storyline.

‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy’ starts not too differently. Control (John Hurt), head of the British Secret Service, gives laconic instructions to field agent Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) about meeting up with a Hungarian counterpart who claims he has information about a Mole in their midst. Prideaux walks the streets in Budapest and meets the man at an open-air cafeteria where the waiter leaves a blotch of sweat on the table-cloth. He’s walked into trouble. An Old Lady at a window high above knows as much. Prideaux turns, paces away from the table and gets shot in a futile attempt at fleeing. The waiter wields the gun, he’s got it right only the second time, the first hitting a woman as she breastfeeds her infant. There’s a painful frame showing the child alive when the mother isn’t.

The operation having gone disastrously wrong, Control is unanimously asked to step down by his deputies, agents Percy ‘Tinker’ Alleline (Toby Jones), Bill ‘Tailor’ Haydon (Colin Firth), Roy ‘Soldier’ Bland (Ciaran Hinds) and Toby ‘Poorman’ Esterhase (David Dencik) upon his disagreement with them going for ‘Operation Witchcraft’ involving an influx of Soviet intelligence for British nothings, in turn used as leverage to obtain American intelligence. It’s pitched to him as a ‘treasure chest.’ Control calls it nonsense. We then have an ‘out with you and your ideas’ moment where Tinker, Tailor, Soldier and Poorman lose Control, decidedly. Tinker takes top spot as replacement. Control keeps his aging smirk and the faith of a colleague and an old friend in George Smiley (Gary Oldman).

The Bond operative, thus, splits four ways, where Control is an ‘M’ who takes the fall and takes his man with him. The title sequence is still a smooth jazz number as is most of the soundtrack and the credits roll on top of clippings of a weary, womanless and out-of-work Smiley getting used to newly-acquired idleness. He is, obviously, re-hired. Once an agent, he turns NOC, looking into the Circus’ affairs, instructed to catch the Mole. He asks for and gets the assistance of Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch, who looks like a young Malcolm McDowell). Armed with both humility and ability to do everything the man asks him to, Guillam and Smiley work their way through the informants in Connie Sachs (Kathy Burke), phone-attendant Jerry Westerby (Stephen Graham) and the unorthodox (and thus, crucial) Ricki Tarr (Tom Hardy, delightful).

Smiley is a sort of real-time Bond. The film even says that loud. There’s a party that Smiley keeps recollecting – a source of valuable information as we come to know late into the film. One such scene at the party has ‘the Second Best secret agent’ playing in the background as everyone sings along. Smiley doesn’t, but he’s kept in focus until fade-out. The song, as I learn, is from the Bond-wannabe ‘Licensed to Kill’ (1965), its usage suggesting the film and its makers’ awareness of the standard they had set out to defy.

But ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy’ is not a parody. It’s a well-paced and neatly crafted suspense thriller that never gets out of Stealth Mode; a stronger comparison to ‘the Ghost Writer’ than ‘the Ides of March’ was. It’s actually a sort of equivalent. Both are translations of existing text (a 1974 John La Carre novel and a 1979 television series with Alec Guinness playing Smiley) to screen with the help of succinct performances by a galaxy of stars. The difference is the man in the middle, where the gritty and giant-killer in Stephen Meyers (as played by Ryan Gosling) is replaced by the wiser, more venerable Smiley, the stakes being higher and the consequences – more brutal.

Gary Oldman has the air of an Agent-turned-Watchdog, a subconscious advocate of protocol that he’s tried, tested and is tired of. Like Morgan Freeman in Fincher’s ‘Se7en’, but subtler. It’s amusing how different this performance is from his usual of recent times Jim Gordon, and how little he has actually done to make it look so. He keeps his accent, his natural gray. He acts his age – even older. There’s inherent warmth in him, a droopiness that endears. No one can play tired and wise better than Oldman can. A more physical performance could call for Liam Neeson. Oldman here is tailormade.

Bridget O’Connor (died of cancer and has this film dedicated to her) and husband Peter Straughan write the film to be the typical hard-to-understand-but-slow-enough-to-keep-track-of drama with dialogues that half-explain what’s going on, the rest left to flashbacks woven into a steady narrative. With the number of characters and the nature of plot, the details do get confusing at times. But Tomas Alfredson (‘Let the Right One in’), with poise in intensity on the lines of the great Polanski, prioritizes to set things straight. The film conveys. It doesn’t affect you; it’s not too much of a surprise. But it succeeds in bringing the movie-spy to fit the shoes of an everyday man - as lonesome, over-worked and wise that he doesn’t do any actual killing. And in that, as far as I know, it’s a first.