BRIDGE OF SPIES Is a Potent Argument From Spielberg About What America Can Be At Its Best

BRIDGE OF SPIES Review:

- A new Steven Spielberg film always feels like an event, but for whatever reason, BRIDGE OF SPIES seemed to come and go largely under many people's radar. It's always interesting to see Spielberg tackle serious period drama - and some of his best films, from Lincoln to Munich to Saving Private Ryan, have come from his examinations of pivotal moments in modern history. What makes BRIDGE OF SPIES different is that it's about the avoidance of conflict as opposed to the reaction to it. In a period when tensions between the US and the USSR created the constant threat of total war, this is a film about a decent man who searches for a way to settle a grievance decently. Spielberg - more than almost any other director - has been adept throughout his career at showing us beacons of hope in dark places. And he does so again with this film - a true story about a point in Cold War history in which, somehow, good sense and a mutual desire for life over death won the day.

In BRIDGE OF SPIES, Tom Hanks plays James Donovan - a lawyer recruited to defend an arrested Soviet Spy in court, and then kept on by the government to help facilitate an exchange with the Soviets: their spy for a captured American pilot, who was caught after going down in an experimental U2 bomber plane. The film gets off to a bit of a slow start. Don't get me wrong, a slow Spielberg start is still infinitely better than your average slow start, because oftentimes it's a pleasure just to bask in the director's wonderfully-lit, lovingly-recreated 1957 America. But what carries the film's first act is the back-and-forth between Hanks and actor Mark Rylance, as captured Soviet Spy Rudolf Abel.

Rylance is absolutely fantastic as Abel. He portrays the spy as a cultured, quiet man who was merely doing a job. His life as a spy is less glamorous than one might think - mostly, it's lonely and sad. Rylance brings a quiet, sullen grace to Abel - you can't help but feel sympathy for him as he faces a ruthless Soviet regime that will surely not take kindly to his capture upon his return to his homeland. On the other hand, his dispassionate outlook towards his duty and country are at times infuriating. Perhaps it is because Abel sees his job for what it is - an endless cat-and-mouse game that simply feeds a perpetual war-machine. But what's so fascinating, and what gives BRIDGE OF SPIES its beating heart, is the relationship between Abel and Donovan.

Hanks' Donovan is the kind of character that likely only Hanks could get away with. He's the Last Decent Man, a guy who loves his family, loves his country, but who by-god thinks everyone deserves a fair trial and a day in court. It might sound like a cookie-cutter role, but give Hanks all the credit in the world - he really adds a lot of layers to the character. For one thing, there's his relationship with Abel. In Abel, Donovan sees a person who is in some ways a kindred spirit. Both are being used as pawns by their countries. Both are expendable by regimes that are always going to protect their own interests rather than those of the individual. But where Abel has become too used up by the system to care much, at this point, about his fate ... Donovan still has some fight left in him. Donovan is still determined to view people as people, not as collateral damage. When an American student is captured by the Soviets, Hank's Donovan wants to make his safe return a part of the deal - even if doing so puts the deal at risk. But where the really impressive work from Hanks comes in are in the moments where you see the incredible toll that fighting this fight - that trying to be the better man - ultimately takes on Donovan. Hanks does an incredible job of showing us a character who continues to push his weariness and anger aside in favor of continued hope - that his way will win out.

This slow-build gives the first part of the film some definite pacing issues, but the net positive is that it leads to a hell of a final act. You can see Spielberg straining to liven things up at times though - he inserts a dazzling flight sequence into the film, as US pilots test out the new U2 planes, and seems relieved to break free from the film's mostly claustrophobic holding cells and offices. Still, is there anyone better at Spielberg at crafting incredible-looking scenes simply by virtue of framing, lighting, and texture?

The script, credited to Matt Charman as well as The Coen Bros. (!!!) contributes to the slow burn. This isn't the sort of film that one might normally associate with the Coens - it would be interesting to hear more about their contribution. But the script is smart, and deliberate, and knows very clearly where it's going. But where the Coens tend to view the world with a nihilistic bent, this film ultimately has the vintage Spielbergian optimism at its core. It's powered by the idea that one man *can* make a difference, that - if even for a moment - the great values that make America great can save it in its darkest hour. This is a film about how Hanks' Donovan reminds a lot of hawkish government officials just how far up their asses their heads had gotten amidst the arms race-inspired bravado of the Cold War. It's a potent lesson that seems just as relevant today, in a world where politicians call for blood rather than civility.

BRIDGE OF SPIES is hurt by pacing issues that prevent it from really hitting its stride until its final act. But ultimately, Spielberg and company get their point across rather powerfully. The film is an important one, and it's got moments of greatness. Though in the Spielberg cannon, it still falls short of the director's best. There isn't quite the gut-punch of a Munich or the iconic moments of a Lincoln. It just feels like there's not quite enough real meat to this story to justify the decompressed way it's told here. But the meat that is there is the kind of Spielbergian goodness that reminds you just why the director is one of the great American storytellers of our time, and why Hanks is the quintessential cinematic every-man. This is a smaller story in some ways as compared to the epics that these two have brought us in the past. But the lesson here is that sometimes the small stories - the ones that don't get their own pages in the history books - are in their own ways the moments that most define us.

My Grade: B+

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS Is Uber-Intense Stunner

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS Review:

- The success of CAPTAIN PHILLIPS is a tribute to two things. One is the directorial prowess of Paul Greengrass. This is a guy whose reputation has perhaps taken a hit due to the rash of less-skilled imitators that he's spawned. But Greengrass is the real deal, and he proves it again here. Second is the amazing, continued ability of Tom Hanks to push himself and take his acting to new dramatic heights. While Hanks is the consummate everyman, he also doesn't merely coast on that rep, and his knockout performance in this film is proof. It's one of the best-ever performances from Hanks - a stunning, nuanced, emotionally raw performance that seriously wowed me. The combination of Greengrass and Hanks is a potent one indeed. I honestly didn't expect it from the trailers, but CAPTAIN PHILLIPS is a total stunner - one of the best dramas of 2013.

The movie is based on the recent, real-life story of Captain Richard Phillips, whose commercial cargo ship was the victim of an attempted hijacking and robbery by Somali pirates, back in 2009. Phillips wrote a book about the ordeal, and now, Greengrass and writer Billy Ray have adapted it into one hell of a film.

Greengrass expertly builds up the tension in the film - and once things fully escalate, the movie becomes a total nail-biter. But before the conflict ensues, we get some telling looks at Phillips, his crew, and also of the Somalis who carry out the desperate heist attempt. Phillips is immediately a fascinating character, perhaps in part because of his blue-collar ordinariness. When we meet him, he's with his wife (Catherine Keener) in their quiet New Hampshire home. As they drive in the rain, the middle-aged couple worries about all things you'd expect them to: their college-age kids facing a tough economy, and the long absences that Phillips' duties require of him. Hanks plays Phillips as a meat-and-potatoes guy, but also a very smart guy - a guy who's very aware of the world around him. That awareness is there in the movie's DNA - as we also see set-up scenes in Somalia, where the dreary, existential dread of mid-life in New Hampshire seems like paradise, as compared to the ramshackle living conditions and violent, chaotic lifestyle that is a fact of life there. The film by no means paints the Somali pirates as heroes or antiheroes or anything like that. But it does give context to their actions, and gives depth to their characters. Finally, there's the crew of Phillips' ship. Overall, they're a competent, salt-of-the-earth bunch - but the film, again, takes pains to give the crew guys unique personalities. The characters all feel real and lived-in. It helps that the crew isn't populated with GQ types, but with guys who are 100% believable as world-weary union workers. It all ties into Greengrass' realer-is-better aesthetic. His movies contain big action and spectacle, but it all comes from a place of authenticity. The starting point is the real-world, and the quieter moments have a documentary-like aesthetic that makes the crazier moments feel all the more plausible.

And as things get crazy, Greengrass expertly escalates the tension to almost unbearable levels. There are a number of factors that play into this. There's a very interesting dynamic, for example, between Phillip's crew and the pirates. The pirates are obviously the aggressors - boarding Phillip's ship with machine guns and ill-intent. But there's also an unsettling inevitability at play - these pirates are essentially #$%&'ed from moment one. Even though we're worried for Phillips and his crew, the feeling that the pirates are in over their heads keeps building as the movie goes on. Even if they pull off the heist ... then what? Best case scenario: they go back home to an unforgiving, war-torn country that is all but devoid of hope and opportunity. Worst case - and most likely scenario - is that they end up captured or killed by the U.S. military, which has every intent of stopping the situation before it becomes an international incident. So the intensity in the film has many, many layers. As the on-screen drama keeps getting bigger in scale - as Navy battleships and military helicopters and snipers get involved - there's so much at stake for every principal character that you can't help but be on the edge of your seat to see how this gets resolved.

An unlikely star of the film is Somali-American actor Barkhad Abdi, as the pirates' leader, Muse. Skeleton-skinny, Abdi infuses Muse with a blend of misguided ambition and desperation. He repeats an upbeat-sounding mantra of "everything will be alright," but behind it there's a sadness, hurt, and anger. Muse is perhaps the most rational of his associates - others are violent and aggressive, one is a young teen who got more than he bargained for in this mission. What he and the other pirates likely didn't bargain for was being pitted against a tough, sea-hardened crew and their resourceful captain.

There's great drama to be had in the chicken-and-egg game that Hank's Phillips plays with the pirates once they've boarded his ship. He uses every trick in the book to try to outwit them and get them to think of him as their friend. But there's something more in the way Hanks deals with them. Yes, he's putting on an act, to some extent, in an attempt to save his crew. But he's also acting in a kind, decent manner towards the Somalis (well, as kind and decent as one can be with people trying to hijack your boat), and they seem genuinely taken aback by it. There's a fascinating clash of worlds here - Phillips is a "put your head down and work hard" New Englander. The pirates have an entirely different ethos - take what you can, because tomorrow you may be dead. It's hard to imagine a more pronounced culture clash. Later, as the military gets involved and the situation spirals out of control, we see those same ethos pushed to their extremes, until they bend and snap. Phillips gives in to the instinct for self-preservation, and the pirates trick themselves into thinking there's a way out of their impossible situation, as they find themselves backed into a corner by the full might of Western Civilization.

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS isn't an overtly political movie, but there's a ton to chew on in its subtext. So rarely do all characters in a film feel so fleshed-out and three-dimensional. Ultimately, the pirates are the film's de facto villains. But the film also forces you to think of its plotline as more than just your typical USA: good, Others: bad narrative. There's a nuance and complexity here that's admirable.

But let me get back to Hanks for a second. It's funny, because going into the film, I found his heavily-accented New England dialect to be sort of comical, judging from the previews. "We ah being boarded" became a bit of a running joke. But the reality is: in context, there's nothing cartoonish about Hanks here. In fact, there's so much subtlety and so much humanity to his performance that I was increasingly impressed as the movie went on. But what sealed the deal for me that this was an all-time great piece of acting was the film's final ten minutes or so, in which Phillips finally just breaks down after the traumatic events he's been through. This stretch of the film's final act is just jaw-droppingly powerful stuff, and it's all Hanks. The way he depicts a level-headed, almost stoic man lose his $#%^ is flat-out chill-inducing, to the point where I wanted to reach out and hand the man an Oscar right then and there. It might just be the best work of Hanks' career.

And Greengrass ... like I said, he's often imitated, but what the wannabes lack is his seeming complete command and control over even the most subtle shaky-cam movements. With Greengrass, it never feels like shaky-cam for the sake of it. Instead, you feel like you're in the hands of a guy with a very precise handle on what he's trying to accomplish. The guy is just really, really good, and he moves from small-scale slice-of-life stuff to huge-scale action in a way that's so seamless, it's amazing.

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS is right up there as one of the best of the year to date. Coming only a week after the epic Gravity, it makes for one hell of an October one-two punch.

My Grade: A

CLOUD ATLAS Soars With Grand Ambition and Mind-Blowing Imagination

CLOUD ATLAS Review:

- CLOUD ATLAS is a sprawling, ambitious, thematically-rich epic that is practically bursting with ideas, philosophy, high-concept storytelling, and audio-visual fireworks. It's also an unabashedly earnest movie that wears its heart on its sleeve. In short, a lot of people will probably hate it. But personally, I was totally captivated by its mind-blowing ideas and time-spanning story. To see a movie that looks this good, with this sort of A-list cast and incredible f/x - to see a movie of that high production value tackle themes so heady and grand - well, you couldn't ask for a better alternative to what typically passes as blockbuster filmmaking these days. The Wachowskis have always pushed the boundaries of mainstream cinema - and that's brought them both mainstream success (the Matrix), and popular dismissal (the still-underrated cult classic Speed Racer). But Cloud Atlas might just be their most boundary-pushing film yet - and also their best. This film has it all - pulpy adventure, star-crossed romance, hysterical comedy, and imagination-igniting sci-fi. But when all was said and done, I felt like I had just watched a very personal film from a group of artists telling a story their way. Despite all of its grandeur, Cloud Atlas still feels like a thesis-statement film - a personal rumination on life, the universe, and everything. This is one of the must-see movies of 2012.

Cloud Atlas' premise can seem intimidatingly vast on paper, but I actually found it fairly straightforward and easy to grasp. Essentially, the film takes place over six different time periods, with people and events in each period having some sort of game-changing effect on the subsequent era. As the tapestry unfolds, we realize we're not just seeing the story of six disparate groups of people, but of six interrelated events that serve as a microcosm of humanity's story. In these six events, we see mankind rise, fall, and rise again. We see the seeds of the sorts of hatred and divisiveness that ultimately lead to annihilation and apocalypse, and we also see the sorts of bonds of love and friendship that could prove to be our salvation.

The oldest era explored in the film is in the 1840's. In this story, a young man meets with his slave-owning father-in-law and prepares to set sail on a business venture. One of the slaves stows away on the ship, and becomes an unlikely friend and ally of the businessman, especially in the face of a sinister doctor who is plotting against him. In 1936, a young, secretly gay musician leaves his lover to become the apprentice of a reclusive master composer. In 1973, a crusading journalist seeks to expose dangerous corruption at a nuclear power plant. The powers-that-be at the plant are on to her, and will stop at nothing to silence her story, and anyone who tries to act as an informant to her. In 2012, a book publisher squanders his unlikely, late-in-life success by accumulating debts and getting in with the wrong sort. He seeks help from his wealthy brother, who - instead of helping - prematurely confines him to a prison-like nursing home to get him out of his hair. In 2144, revolutionaries lead an uprising against an oppressive regime. Their rallying cry revolves around the liberation of "fabricants" - a genetically-modified slave-class of clones, from their subservient and demeaning way of life. One of those fabricants - Sonmi-451, becomes an unlikely messianic figure once recruited by the rebels. Finally, in 2321, earth is a post-apocalyptic mess. The lucky ones live in remote sky-cities, while others have reverted to a primitive, tribal, savage way of life down below. An emissary from one of the cities travels to tribal lands on a unique mission - trying to find a long-lost site that might open up communication with other worlds. Perhaps, she hopes, humanity's ultimate salvation from this post-Fall desolation lies in the stars.

Much attention has been paid to how the six stories interweave. Again, the film's trio of directors - the Wachowski siblings and Tom Twyker (Run Lola Run), tell each story in a fairly easy-to-grasp manner. But what the do brilliantly - in a departure from the novel on which this is based - is to intercut between each of the stories. The theme of six, of the sextet, comes back again, as the film is loosely divided into six thematic sections, with a prologue and epilogue as bookends. This could have been confusing, but by elegantly tying each segment of each story together through thematic links - discovery, capture, escape, pursuit, etc. - each of the six stories rides the same wave of momentum. It may sound cheesy, but the movie really is structured in a symphonic manner - it ebbs, flows, and builds to a narrative crescendo. The name "Cloud Atlas" comes from the piece of music - the Cloud Atlas Sextet - composed in 1936 by one of our key protagonists. And it's fitting, because the film unfolds in a manner that mirrors its titular composition. It's sort of awesome.

Now, from a narrative standpoint, the way the stories relate is pretty straightforward. Key events in one era come into play in the next era and beyond, causing a domino effect of history. But there are also all sorts of notable crossover moments and similarities between the eras. Names recur. Motifs come back. Family legacies extend across eras. This is a movie that has many, many layers. Beneath the surface is an ocean of connectivity. But the directors go even a step further - by casting the same troupe of actors as different characters in each story, in each era. Here is where the movie *could* become complicated if you let it. One could spend hours trying to decipher the connections between the characters played by each actor. And one could interpret the nature of these multiple roles in different ways. You could say it's just an acting exercise - that it's just an excuse to have talented actors play different parts. Or you could look at it as each set of characters played by an actor as representing different incarnations of one soul. This is the interpretation that I like, but I also wouldn't overthink it too much. The point, to me, is to show the different types of journeys that one soul can take. Some are eternally evil - witness the characters played by the great Hugo Weaving, each reliably ruthless and sinister. Some are eternally good - the characters played by Halle Barry, for example, always seem to be crusaders fighting for truth and justice. And some, like the characters played by Tom Hanks, seem to be on a more up-and-down path - always torn between right and wrong.

But speaking of the actors in this - wow. Cloud Atlas is a total tour de force, acting-wise. I'll preface by saying that each segment of the film has a different tone, so some of the acting is silly, over-the-top, or melodramatic - but, it's supposed to be. The cool thing is that each time period evokes not just a certain time, but a specific film genre. So the 70's-set segments have the drab, gritty look of a 70's-style crime thriller (think All The President's Men), while the future-world segments evoke a mixture of Star Wars-style swashbuckling with Blade Runner-esque neon-lit dystopia. The 2012 segments are an homage to classic screwball comedy - with an almost Python-esque wit. In any case, much of Cloud Atlas is intentionally pulpy, melodramatic, comedic, etc. And that makes the varied acting we see from the likes of Tom Hanks, Halle Barry, Hugo Weaving, Jim Broadbent, and the rest of the cast that much more remarkable. Those are some of the film's real MVP's, as far as I'm concerned. What they do in this one is pretty stunning. Hanks plays a scheming villain, a do-gooding whistle-blower, a simple tribesman ... and makes all of them work. The most classic, Hanksian work is in the post-apocalyptic tribesman role, where Hanks brings an fantastic groundedness, earnestness and moral complexity to a story that is fairly epic and crazy. To look at the sum total of what he does here - it's mind-blowing. I don't know if it will be recognized come awards season - perhaps the pulpiness of some of the characters will be held against him (or his brief, silly turn as a foul-mouthed Irish writer in the 2012 segment). But holy crap, this is some of the most impressive work I've ever seen from Hanks. Same goes for Halle Barry - she was probably my biggest question mark going into the film - could she pull this off? She does - effortlessly playing a number of roles - most less showy than Hanks, but very effective nonetheless. She particularly shines in the 70's segments as an intrepid reporter with an axe to grind. But I also thought she was pretty great (and incredibly kick-ass), in the post-apocalyptic segments, as a woman on a quest for answers. Weaving - wow. He recurs as a villain throughout the film, but he plays everything from an expressionless hired thug, to a battleaxe of a woman in 2012 (yep, Weaving plays a woman!), to a demonic creature who haunts Tom Hanks in the post-apocalyptic wasteland. Awesome. Finally, Jim Broadbent is the guy who may get the most critical acclaim, because he's just such a scene-stealer. Chiefly, as a book publisher trapped in an existential nightmare in 2012. Broadbent is just hilarious in these segments. But he also shines in the darker and more somber 1936 segments, as a master composer who comes into conflict with his young apprentice. Jim Sturges is also amazing in this. Keith David kicks ass. Hugh Grant, of all people, surprised me - he plays in his wheelhouse as a smarmy CEO, but also (quite convincingly!) plays a savage tribal leader. Who woulda' thunk it? Susan Sarandon has some memorable moments. James D'Arcy is also great, particularly when you think about how he so convincingly plays the same character as a young and old man, in the 1930's and 1970's.

But I will single out one other MVP of the cast - Doona Bae. She is the heart and soul of the film as Sonmi-451. Even without speaking much ... it's all in her eyes. She is a real find, and I can't wait to see her in more movies. Now, it's occasionally awkward when they've got her playing some of the other characters that are more out of her comfort zone. But as Sonmi, man, she just nails it, and is instantly iconic in the part. If there's one lasting image that CLOUD ATLAS leaves you with, it may just be wide-eyed Sonmi confronting the horrific reality of her Fabricant existence, that until now she was blissfully ignorant of.

Some of that iconography can again be attributed to the Wachowskis and Tom Tykwer. Again, can't say enough about their directorial prowess here. Prior to this, I thought of the Wachowskis as fantastic genre directors, but now I put them in the categories of great directors - period. That said, the sci-fi and action stuff in Cloud Atlas is just off-the-chain and badass as hell. Get these guys on Star Wars. At the same time, the comedy stuff in 2012, the period piece drama in the 1840's and 1930's, the gritty crime drama in the 1970's ... equally well-done. And the icing on the cake is how it's all so skillfully woven together. The various time-periods interweave in a way that is exciting, that keeps the momentum high - but that also brilliantly ties scenes together from a thematic perspective.

As I said, it's rare that such an epic, blockbuster film can also feel so personal. But this is a movie that is bursting with heart and soul and humanity. It's a thesis statement on the human condition, a look at who we are and where we've been and where we might go. Not everyone wants such ambition in what is, in some ways, a popcorn flick. But I gladly absorbed it all and went along for the ride. To me, this was big, thought-provoking, cosmic storytelling - the kind of thing I wish we'd see more of at the movies.

My Grade: A