The Departed (Martin Scorsese)

Sullivan's travails.

Stripped off of all the cinematic gloss and melodrama of "Infernal Affairs", "The Departed" is much more raw and pulsating in its delivery compared to the said Hong Kong original, and also more entertaining in its step-by-step revelation and thrills. Headlined by an all-star cast, particularly by Matt Damon and Leonardo DiCaprio (evidently showing how a Hollywood pretty boy before can convincingly pull off a hardened and at the same time conflicted character) and with the film itself fully enhanced with a much extensively realistic and sometimes spontaneously comic screenplay, it's a Best Picture Oscar well-deserved. And don't get me started about Martin Scorsese's best director win merely being an overdue honor for his legendary film career and not for his individual merit for this film. It sickens me, really.

"The Departed", above all, is the crowning jewel of his post-De Niro 'crime' film resume. Unlike "Infernal Affairs", which presents a deep articulation about choice, identity and destiny, "The Departed" ignored those flowery things and instead replaced them with sharp-edged machismo, rough visual texture and a hint of madness. This time, it's not much about the double lives of two moles pitted against each other and their subtle connection but more of an acute generalization of the violent nature of gangsterism itself.

And Jack Nicholson, as caricature-like as he can be, still displayed a thoroughly commanding and menacing presence as Frank Costello, whose knack for unpredictably pungent humor puts a slight comic antidote to refresh and balance the film's dark tone. An overly serious villain for a gravely-toned film is too much a chore to watch, so having someone like Mr. Nicholson to grace the screen with a conspicuously unique persona is, although I know how violently ragged "The Departed" can often times be, a thing akin to beauty.

But that does not mean that Nicholson owned and breathes fire and life unto the film. Damon and DiCaprio, the dual center of the film, didn't give in to Nicholson's larger-than-life screen occupancy. Matt Damon, with films such as "The Talented Mr. Ripley", "Good Will Hunting" and the more recent "The Informant!" as evidences to his stellar acting range, shows how he can be as increasingly heroic as Jason Bourne but can be equally despicable as a con man, scam artist, a nervous liar or as a man who runs a life of cyclic performance art. His Colin Sullivan, a mole planted by Nicholson's Costello in the police ranks, belongs fully to the last, but is a combination of all that were mentioned. That's how tricky and quite complex Damon's role really was.

Again, unlike "Infernal Affairs", who treated its Sullivan equivalent as a redemptive anti-hero, Scorsese (and screenwriter William Monahan) molded Colin Sullivan from pure lies, self-advantage and pure-bred 'pretty face' villainy and manipulation. Maybe it's just me, but I can't see one likable factor regarding Sullivan, except for the fact that him being constantly pushed around by more righteous bullies like Mark Wahlberg's Staff Sergeant Dignam (who would have thought that he's the same guy who played Dirk Diggler?) and, of course, Leonardo DiCaprio's Billy Costigan is surely a pitiful view. And after seeing the film for about four times, I believe that Damon's character is much harder to pull off than DiCaprio's, although both performed with equal energy and considerable dimension.

Some scenes were taken contextually verbatim from "Infernal Affairs", such as the wrongly-spelled word in the envelope and the pre-climactic final unraveling of the film's integral secret via the scene between Sullivan and Costigan inside the police headquarters. But what takes me in as to why "The Departed" is the better film overall, quality-wise, is the fact that everything seems to belong, and not a single thing felt forced.

Granted, the Hong Kong original is much more exquisite in its moody cinematography and perfect choice of seedy locations, but there's this pure spontaneity encapsulating "The Departed's" wholeness, enabling all its aspects, from its gallery of characters to the endlessly profane sputtering, to attain a specific level of believability.

Martin Scorsese, after creating opuses after opuses in his directorial heydays, seems to have been merely sitting tight and effortless while directing "The Departed". But that does not suggest any negative connotations. 'Sitting tight', meaning that he's been through so much cinematic gems (It's just not easy to choose just one 'best' film from his resume) that directing another masterpiece such as this one is, for him, not even a walk in the park, but like a leisurely sit in some prairie.

"Could you double-check the envelope?" Martin Scorsese uttered while finally taking hold of his first ever Oscar statuette. Don't worry, sir, that may just be a sole award, but with all the films that you've made that have waited and truly deserved that little golden man, the one that you've just received is much denser in its meaning.

And besides, you've transcended the AMPAS a long time ago, and a masterwork such as "The Departed" is just a mere reminder that you certainly still have 'it' and your burning artistry won't go out anytime soon, on this life or the next. It's (the film) also a clear-cut benchmark of how one must do a contemporary gangster neo-noir: with rough intensity, abundance of grit, and a penetrating moral undertone.

FINAL RATING

Hereafter (Clint Eastwood)

The exhaustion of vision.

The film that seemingly came at a right time considering the stage of Clint Eastwood's career and age already sealed with greatness, composure and productivity. There's not much left to explore for him, so why not the mystery of the afterlife and, at times, tricky to pull off atmosphere of the supernatural? "Hereafter", with its uncommon use of a finely recreated natural disaster and unrelated though interconnected stories, is more of a well-thought curiosity piece whose focus goes everywhere, filmmaking wise, rather than a pure narrative that speaks of some tightly-drawn drama.

It stars Matt Damon in a very vulnerable performance as George, a genuine psychic that considers his insights into the netherworld a curse rather than a gift. Like a "Miss Lonelyhearts", he has given up to what he does best, keeps his profile low, yet the quantity of those who seek for help is at an all-time high. Above his personal and psychological struggles, at the opposite side of existence, he unconsciously serves as the personification of the kid, Marcus' (played by Frankie and George McLaren) primary goal: To find a medium for him to talk to his deceased twin brother.

You know those motifs prevalent throughout ensemble, non-linear films that connects each characters and sub-stories? The briefcase in "Pulp Fiction", the dog in "Amores Perros" or the frog rain in "Magnolia"? In "Hereafter's" case, it is Damon's character and his uncompromising visions; as we witness the emotional plight of the grieving kid and the startling, subconscious discovery of the French journalist, it all forms into a wide round of events that ultimately encircles George and his subsequent interactions with the two.

It's a given that in the film's 2 hour running time, these characters' destiny will soon converge just like other typical films of its kind. How it will come out convincingly and without any contrivances or narrative convolution rests on the handling of the material. And while it's not anything new in terms of cinematic experience, Clint Eastwood has, even in a very meager way, still delivered.

"Hereafter" surely does not belong in the league of Eastwood's very best works; but damn, his directorial range is just astounding. He pulled off something akin to Inarritu's works, filled it with the evocative anticipation of what lies beyond the limits of life and mortal existence, and armed it with consistency.

Judging that Clint Eastwood is not fond of leaving personal trademarks in his films, "Hereafter", although having its own flaws, still came out strengthened by an unhindered emotional urgency and subtly encompassing vision; indeed distinguishable marks of his own. Only the questionable ending disappoints, and the closure for the poor Bryce Dallas Howard character not given enough importance.

Her connection with Damon's character, in my opinion, is much more believable. But thinking that "Hereafter" is a fantasy, I guess the ethereal is preferably highlighted rather than the definite. Dramatic escapism, it ultimately seems.

FINAL RATING

True Grit (Joel and Ethan Coen)

'The Duke Abides.'

I really cannot say that this is a considerably dark rendition of the novel of the same name in comparison with John Wayne's version. Aside from the occasional violence fully prevalent in almost all of the Coen brothers' films, this "True Grit" is still particularly colorful in its characterizations, and with Jeff 'The Dude' Bridges playing the same role that has given John 'The Duke' Wayne's sole Oscar statuette, one can't go on to see this film without even expecting a slight hint of 'fun'.

I do think that Mr. Bridges is simply put, the best actor that has able to portray the guiltless stagnation of a modern-day slacker via his role in "The Big Lebowski". And here in "True Grit", which marks his reunion with the Coen brothers since that classic cult film, he portrays Rooster Cogburn with almost the same unfathomable sweat, liquor and scratchy beard; a perfect companion description to his 'mean' reputation as a reckless marshal, yet a physical contradiction to his skills in gun fighting.

Hailee Steinfeld is very animated and lively as Mattie Ross that I think her performance equals that of Kim Darby in the 1969 film and her chemistry with Mr. Bridges almost on par with the latter's wonderful connection with John Wayne's Rooster.

Now on a slightly negative note, Matt Damon's build-up as LaBoeuf isn't particularly convincing; one sequence he is an enigmatic Texas ranger lighting a cigarette and silently looming over the sleeping Mattie Ross. On the next, he's suddenly saddling a horse, already with Rooster and on the course for Mattie's father's killer's hunt (this is where the 1969 adaptation is better). Matt Damon did very fine on the role, but his character's introduction was quite hazy at best that in some ways, it has put down the essence of the film's idea of an adventure inhabited by a richly detailed 'trio'.

"True Grit" is a gritty (not a pun, mind you) re-imagining of the, realistically speaking, quite obsolete novel, putting the action not on vibrant landscapes seemingly taken from an illusory yet perfect western world, but through a rocky, icy, and pale environment that puts the 'dread' in the violence and the concept of revenge seemingly at ease.

This is an immense improvement over the 1969 adaptation with an equally compelling though at times inconsistent chemistry, a collective effort from very talented actors to boot, and a screenplay that has given way to a more powerful and emotionally penetrating final sequence that the John Wayne version has completely neglected for the sake of a happier resolution.

In the end, aside from being a film deservedly belonging to the great western handfuls made today and a film that reunites the duo of cinematic geniuses that is the Coen brothers with arguably their most charismatic lead in the form of Jeff 'The Dude' (let's repeat that 'moniker', shall we?) Bridges, "True Grit" also stands as a benchmark for the brothers' cinematic emotional capacity and a proof that even these filmmakers commonly associated with the idiosyncratic and cynical nature of man also have a sentimental side. A 'side' deeply devoted to the contemplation of a violent adventure's aftermath rather than the constructed wit and complexity of a narrative leading into it.

Being different and deviant is normal for these cinematic non-conformists (the Coens), but as "True Grit" displays its utmost straightforwardness in terms of plot and characters, ironically, by their body of works' standards, it's their most 'unusual' film to date.

FINAL RATING

Green Zone (Paul Greengrass)

Miller, not Bourne.

Whether you are a 'Bourne' fan or not, it's almost impossible to look forward to watching "Green Zone" without even the slightest inclination of at least expecting an 'Iraq' war deviation of the famous spy franchise, especially with its last two film's director and 'shaky' cam master Paul Greengrass on the helm and Matt Damon as the lead.

I have to say that although the epileptic cinematography will never be denied of its place in the film, "Green Zone" has surprisingly focused more on the complexity of its story and the scope of its intrigue rather than the simple pleasures of some formulaic action sequences. The film's premise is mainly about the supposed 'Weapons of Mass Destruction' hidden and secretly created by Saddam Hussein, the fear and the symbol of ultimate villainy that it has created to distort the minds and perception of a world searching for someone to ultimately blame for the 9/11 attacks (stupid) and to model a tailor-made foe for a United States government hungry for war and profit (stupider).

Matt Damon plays a heroic soldier tired of all the red tapes, bent on disproving the idea of a 'weapon' said to be buried somewhere underneath the ruins of Iraq, and also to answer puzzling questions of his own about a reality where patriotic ideologies are being bastardized and compromised for the sake of saving faces and preserving images.

Greg Kinnear and Brendan Gleeson were both good in supporting roles that although look familiar and feel like cliched staples of political thriller films, carried the characters with some sort of short-tempered intensity and momentary urgency scene after scene, as if the current line they deliver is more important than the last. No redundant and unnecessary beatings around the 'bush' (no pun intended). With less than 1 and a half hours for exposition (I estimate the other 30 minutes to be dedicated to obligatory action sequences), the film's screenplay has proven itself as very tightly written and effectively compact.

The Vietnam War has always been criticized primarily because America's unsolicited intervention was a bit shallow in its justification. It also caused a lot of 'misplaced aggression'.

The War in Iraq can also be classified with the same deficiencies, although I think it's a bit 'deconstructive' (as if it served as a slight euphemism) in its approach: destroyed the common, accepted notions of war and instead relied on the unpredictable ripple effect of an 'illusion'; a big-time trick without reservations and with casualties involved. The deceptive manipulation of the higher ones: the ignobility of war indeed.

FINAL RATING