Les Misérables (Tom Hooper)

Cosette.

Certainly the most visually stunning film of the year, "Les Misérables" is no doubt a musical picture of epic proportions that's passionately held together by numerous powerful performances. Running close to 3 hours, the film is indeed a cinematic dream come true for musical fans, but may also prove to be quite an extensive chore to watch for non-musical lovers. In a way, the song numbers may often tend to delay the film's otherwise smooth narrative progression, which is truly a proof of how musicals are more focused on prioritizing moods, emotions and internal turbulence rather than the stories themselves. As a song number ends and another one begins, I can't help but notice the audience's numerous laughs of disbelief as they uncomfortably twitch and readjust in their seats. "Les Misérables", despite its all-star cast and visual spectacle, is indeed not for everyone. But nonetheless, it's still powerful stuff, with Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman leading the way. 

     

Peter Greenaway, a visionary independent filmmaker, has once suggested that film adaptations (specifically Jane Austen's) are nothing but wastes of time. This statement may prove to be quite apt to this recent cinematic incarnation of "Les Misérables", but there's something in this Tom Hooper-directed version that is just quite transcendent to behold. One of them, quite naturally, is the performances, which were all elevated by a sense of both larger-than-life romanticism and subtle humanity. But the one who has really moved me close to tears is Anne Hathaway's performance as Fantine. Enhanced by the film's stylistic preference of capturing the song numbers in stark close-up shots (quite reminiscent of Carl Theodor Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc") rather than in flowing camera movements, Ms. Hathaway has delivered what may be the best performance of the year and the greatest of her career so far. Honestly, her rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream" is just so emotionally perfect and devastatingly heart-breaking that even at this very moment while writing this review, I'm still having some goose bumps. With echoes of Maria Falconetti in her performance, Anne Hathaway, despite her short screen time, has proven that although Jean Valjean's (Hugh Jackman) path to redemption is the real focus of "Les Misérables", it was her Fantine that is the anchoring soul of the film. I'm not exaggerating here or anything, but I do think that Anne Hathaway's "I Dreamed a Dream" scene is already worth the price of admission alone. 

     

But as expected, Hugh Jackman, whose resume boasts of a Tony award, is also pitch perfect in the role of Jean Valjean, who's just effortless in his embodiment of the character's rapid emotional transitions, usually from emotional fury to silent gentility and then back again. But let's not also forget Russell Crowe in the very complex role of Javert, who is very believable in his portrayal of the said character's adherence to both blind justice and pure conviction. Although his voice, as what other people complain about, quite lacks the power and range needed for such a crucial character, his facial expressions and imposing presence more than makes up for it. There's also the film's sleeper performance in the form of Samantha Barks' Eponine, who just shined in the role, especially in her "On My Own" number. On the other hand, Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter, although in their usual element, never quite did it for me because, well, they're just too humorously ho-hum in their roles. 

     

Admittedly, "Les Misérables" is a film that's quite dated in its themes and very derivative in its revolutionary spirit. But nonetheless, it was still able to connect with me on a very nationalistic level specifically because of its numerous parallels with Jose Rizal's (Philippines' National Hero) "Noli Me Tangere" and "El Filibusterismo". As the film reaches its final crescendo and as the screen goes to black, it's as if I've watched an actual West End production, but this time with all of "Les Misérables'" 'sound and fury' magnified a hundredfold. "Les Misérables", an emotionally overwhelming musical film, is a textbook example of how stunning the marriage of stage and film can be when done right.

FINAL RATING

Children of Paradise (Marcel Carné)

Baptiste and Garance.

The great Francois Truffaut has once stated that he would indeed give up all of his films to have directed "Children of Paradise" himself. If that's not a testament of the film's more than impressive whole, with its ability to impress and stir up healthy jealousy among other equally heralded filmmakers, then I don't know what else will be. The film, shot during the turbulent times of Nazi occupation in France (French Resistance members at the time even secretly worked in the film's production), is a miraculous achievement not just of cinema but of the entire realm of art. By merging the symphonic beauty of two of the greatest art forms the world has ever seen (theater and film), Marcel Carné, the film's director, has created an unforgettable screen masterpiece that is both aesthetically moving and emotionally evocative. 

     

Although it was cleverly marketed in America as France's cinematic answer to Victor Fleming's "Gone with the Wind", "Children of Paradise" is so much more than just a foreign substitute to an epic Hollywood picture. It is, by its own right, a stand-alone film that ambitiously treads the territories of both love and artistry, not to mention that it is also a visually stunning rendition of 19th century France. Populated by characters that seem to be molded after Charles Dickens' creations, "Children of Paradise", in a way, moves and unfolds like great literature (the film was even split into two distinct, very novel-like chapters). But unlike the lively pageantry of "Gone with the Wind", "Children of Paradise", even at the film's early moments, is already burdened by a running sense of melancholy, specifically when the camera first focuses its lens on the face of Baptiste (Jean-Louis Barrault), a great pantomime who will find himself slowly falling under the spell (and pain) of love. The object of his affection is Garance (Arletty), a stunning woman who sees love merely as a simple phenomenon and who, at first sight, was immediately magnetized by Baptiste's romantic peculiarities. 

     

But then, it's not only Baptiste who's smitten by Garance; on one side, there's Frédérick Lemaître (Pierre Brasseur), a flamboyant theater actor whose acts atop the stage bleed through life itself. On the other, there's also Lacenaire (Marcel Herrand), a part-time poet and full-time criminal whose great contempt of life can only be matched by his enormous pride. And finally, there's Count Édouard de Montray (Louis Salou), a rich man who baits Garance with his unequaled fortune so that she will not love any other man ever again. 

     

Together, these four characters engage in a slow dance of doom that finally justifies the melancholic undercurrent that runs through the film. But even though "Children of Paradise" plays like a tragedy, the film, for plenty of reasons, will surely put a smile in every cinephile's face mainly because of its visual and thematic perfection. And even though the film runs close to 3 hours, I honestly would have wanted 3 more. Hell, the film, with its highly eloquent and intuitive screenplay (by Jacques Prévert), could have been an audio book. But then again, it could have also been an enjoyable silent film, what with its pantomime fluidity and swift physical timing. 

     

Considered by many as one of the greatest films of all time, "Children of Paradise", again despite of it being a romantic tragedy, is a celebratory film that embraces and makes one with art even in the midst of a violent global conflict. "Children of Paradise", a flawless masterpiece of French cinema, will always stand the test of time not just as great art but also as a proof that cinema can never be crippled by war-time destruction, be forced underground by bombs and be shackled by fear. "Children of Paradise" powerfully persists.

FINAL RATING

 

El Presidente (Mark Meily)

Aguinaldo.

After last year's surprisingly good period gangster film that is "Manila Kingpin: The Asiong Salonga Story", here is E.R. Ejercito again with an Emilio Aguinaldo biopic entitled "El Presidente", an infinitely trickier film to pull off, scope and exposition-wise.

     

If E.R.'s previous film focuses mainly on gangland altruism, "El Presidente" is all about patriotic resilience amidst imperialism, and it definitely shows on the film's abundant dose of sentimentalism. And if E.R. seems tailor-made for the role of Asiong Salonga (after all, he has already played Asiong in the '90s film "Asiong Salonga: Hari ng Tondo"), he seems feverishly out of place in this whole historical drama, especially when he's surrounded by character actors that are ten times more talented than him.

     

Now do not get me wrong, when I think of a more suitable and relatively bankable actor to play Aguinaldo, I can't really think of anyone save for Ejercito himself (as of the moment, that is). Except for his bulldog-ish cheeks, Ejercito nicely fits the title role specifically because of his relative mass appeal and sense of authority. But then, somebody has seemingly forgotten to remind him that "El Presidente" is, after all, a film and not a theatrical play.

     

With his repetitively oratorical hand gestures and monotonous line deliveries, despite of the stature of the person he's playing, E.R. is easily dwarfed by his co-actors in the film, specifically Cesar Montano, whose brief but strong turn as Andres Bonifacio is a mild cause for celebration. Except for his hair that's anachronistically gelled upwards, Cesar Montano's Bonifacio is so well-portrayed that I wouldn't bother for him to have more screen time than Aguinaldo himself. Granted, "El Presidente" is quite sophisticated with its cinematography and action sequences, but its whole narrative seems fairly derivative and very 'Philippine History 101' that the film's human aspect was left terribly wanting.

     

Complete with cursive texts beneath every establishing scene that continuously remind us that the film is more of a crash course on the history of pre-republic Philippines rather than a fairly humanizing story of a great man (this, of course, depends on who's seeing the film), "El Presidente" never quite connects on the emotional level. Instead, and this is quite saddening, it merely gives out the occasional 'wow' factor with its action set pieces, mammoth scope and nothing more. And although I also liked Baron Geisler's intense performance as a Spanish captain, the film's supporting cast was fairly uninspired and a tad too unconvincing; indeed, a bunch of artificially mustachioed lads sputtering things about independence and going slow-motion on simulated battles is not enough. Well, maybe that is the ultimate downside of a historical drama: the scope is almost always so big that the characters are rendered as nothing but glorified plot details.

     

In a way, "El Presidente" is "Jose Rizal's" (the film, not the man) campy and overly sentimental half-brother who gets into too much unjustified scuffles. If Cesar Montano's portrayal of Jose Rizal is one founded upon complexity, dedication and utter intensity, E.R. Ejercito's Emilio Aguinaldo is founded upon monotony, misplaced emotions and uncalled-for action star-ism. In one action scene when he has suddenly pulled out a very gangster-looking boot knife, I even expected E.R. to suddenly show his ever-wriggling tongue and shout "Ako si Boy Sputnik!" His performance is just so all over the place that at the end of the day, "El Presidente" has made me root more for Andres Bonifacio. Now I have this sudden craving to watch Richard Somes' Bonifacio biopic "Supremo".

     

But in all fairness, the film's final 15 minutes or so is quite powerful. In a way, it reminds me of the final moments of Bernardo Bertolucci's "The Last Emperor" in how both finely convey the elegy of time in the lives of the most powerful and seemingly immortal leaders. The appearance of Nora Aunor as Emilio Aguinaldo's second wife though, who was cast just so she can be put into the posters as a potential crowd-drawer, is a complete non-event. In my opinion, they could have put Lilia Cuntapay in the role and it wouldn't really even make a strand of difference.

     

"El Presidente", although admittedly a grand, sweeping production, is a very clunky film that offers little to nothing that our history text books have not taught us yet. Perhaps showing some of Aguinaldo's trivial humanity wouldn't hurt. And yes, "Manila Kingpin" is better.

FINAL RATING

 

The Dark Knight Rises (Christopher Nolan)

Pain.

Being one of the most hyped films of the year, "The Dark Knight Rises" is one of those motion pictures that are very easy to venerate yet just as easy to bash. It's prone to criticism and fevered hate because, well, it's an easy target. There's also that little "The Avengers" vs. "The Dark Knight Rises" thing going on in the internet so the pressure for this film to deliver is quite great especially compared to the former's unexpected critical success. 

But after watching "The Dark Knight Rises" after more than a year of utter anticipation, it's very fair to say that this film has immensely delivered both in scope and emotional magnitude. It has also solidified Nolan as the best blockbuster filmmaker and his vision of Batman as the most definitive ever. Oh, and did I mention that this film completely blows "The Avengers" into the deep waters? Oh, well, enough with the comparison. 

Like the previous installments, "The Dark Knight Rises" is successful not just as a superhero film but as a drama of human flaws and as a deeply penetrating tragedy of lies and loss. But this time, it's even more than just a Batman film. It's not even just a story of Batman's heroics. Instead, it's the story of Bruce Wayne and his ultimate struggle against fear and his ever-consuming savior complex. Judging from his performance, it's quite easy to see that Christian Bale is back in his groove as the narrative center (he took the backseat for Ledger's scene-stealing presence in "The Dark Knight"), and after this film and the trilogy in general, it's really quite hard to see any other Bruce Wayne other than him. 

Now, reckon how many people consider "The Dark Knight" as a Joker film and not as a Batman tale? I think "The Dark Knight Rises" is the answer. Never has Wayne's unconditional martyrdom as a crime-fighting man in a cape and cowl better highlighted and explored than in this film. If "The Dark Knight" is all about the rise and fall of the alliance between Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman), Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) and Batman (Christian Bale), "The Dark Knight Rises" is all about the inevitable rise of Batman long after his chosen path of self-incrimination (of Dent's murder). But with the brooding atmosphere that was frenetically sustained all throughout the film, we're not sure anymore if that rise will be all the way or will it entail a most fatal fall. And with Bane (Tom Hardy) in the villainous seat, the man we all know as the one who broke Batman's back in "Knightfall", it strongly suggests an inescapable destiny for the caped crusader. Can he save Gotham City from the terrorist clutches of Bane? Can he match Bane's brains and brawns? Or to be more exact, can he even survive it at all? 

These are the questions that Nolan (with his brother Jonathan and David S. Goyer) is more than happy to tease us with for the past year or so, and his answers embedded within this film are really more than satisfying. This is not just a superhero film anymore. It's something that walks the thin line between action and gut-wrenching drama and the result is just astounding. And although the film's first half or so is something that can be repaired a bit by better pacing and less clunky action, the film's second half has more than supplied the power that has seemingly been amiss in the early half. 

As with the performances, I believe that this is the best-acted film in the series. And although "The Dark Knight" is particularly special because of Ledger's performance (easily the best in the series), "The Dark Knight Rises" is the most emotionally draining of the three. Michael Caine's Alfred, for instance, with his controlled demeanor in the two previous installments, is a complete revelation in this film. He has both been Bruce's butler, friend and father; we saw how he has always been the calm spirit that constantly guides Bruce through confusion and psychological torment, and we saw how well-cultivated his relationship with Wayne really was in the previous films. But we have never seen their relationship as being on the line as in this one and we have never seen Alfred so emotionally fragile and elegiac ("I've buried enough members of the Wayne family"). Michael Caine certainly saved his best performance for last. 

Same goes for Gary Oldman's Gordon (my favorite character in the whole series) who, after hiding everything Dent has done and letting Batman take all the blame for the former's murderous deeds, is seemingly struck with guilt and an impulse to tell the whole truth to the city of Gotham. Even Morgan Freeman's Lucius Fox, the easygoing, technologically savvy CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is having a hard time wearing a smile here. But then again, with arguably the most iconic superhero to ever grace the screen finally reaching a cinematic conclusion of eschatological proportions, it really is hard to wear one. 

But aside from the regulars, there are also some new characters introduced: John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), an idealistic cop whose utter devotion to his work is quite reminiscent of a younger Jim Gordon, Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway), the cunning burglar who we also know as the pun-filled Catwoman, and the mysterious Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard), a woman who's more than interested to invest in Wayne Enterprises. And finally, there's Tom Hardy's Bane. 

We all know the burden of pressure and expectations of being a Batman villain ever since Heath Ledger took the bar sky high. But nonetheless, Hardy has still pulled off a Bane rendition that he can wholly call his own (with that peculiarly menacing accent) and can stand alone not in the shadows of Ledger's Joker but somewhere that is just as potent and convincing. 

"The Dark Knight Rises" is the final, tearful salvo of Christopher Nolan's Batman legend. And evident of the film's massively chaotic scale which, if I may say, has rendered the happenings in "Batman Begins" and "The Dark Knight" quite small in comparison, Nolan's trilogy wouldn't just go quietly into the night. It went with flying colors and with a bang. The whimper part is for us to handle. 

And with that, this trilogy is really something more. If a costumed superhero like Batman can make you shed a tear, then there's something really, really special going on. That, I think, is the case with "The Dark Knight Rises". The drama is just so multi-layered and so affecting that I couldn't care less about the special effects. This is not just a superhero film at its best. This is blockbuster filmmaking at the height of its promised power. Cheers to that.

FINAL RATING

Oro, Plata, Mata (Peque Gallaga)

Ablaze.

A second viewing.

"Oro, Plata, Mata" can easily be accused of being too explicit and overly indulgent on Peque Gallaga's part, but it can't be doubted that this film puts forth a visually harrowing perspective that does not merely settle on pacifist commentaries or wartime tears. Sometimes, just like how Gallaga has presented his allegorical "Scorpio Nights", films must not wait in some dark corner in hopes that someone may clumsily pick them up out of curiosity. They must be assertive with their audience regarding whatever they want to show, and "Oro, Plata, Mata" succeeded to do just that, with the occasional 'shock' factor on the side.

Just like "Batch '81", which suddenly begins with a musical score that mirrors the sounds of a circus fun fair, this film also opened with a music that seems out of place. A mixture of harmlessness and sardonic sarcasm, the music plays as if it's poking fun of its mannered bourgeoisie characters, Bunuel-style. The film's opening credits greet us with assortment of characters moving in 'slow-motion' as they fix their hairs and smoke tobaccos. Going along with these scenes is this sinister feel that wraps them that seem to suggest that "Oro, Plata, Mata" is about decadence as it is about the entrails of war, if not more.

And as the film furthers its linear yet episodic narrative descent into the grave unknowns of war, it unfolds an unsettling portrait of how even the most mannered of people may easily concede to the angst-ridden sexual temptations that root out from living in ennui. But Gallaga, who shows his mastery of visual composition and a hint of exploitation (I believe that the film still would have worked even with two to three sex/nude scenes less), backed by Jose Javier Reyes' screenplay, extends the fact that the film's characters' emotional and carnal transformations weren't human deconstructions, but a simple case of skeletons in the closet. It's right with them all along.

Joel Torre, his first screen role, is remarkably effective as the frail Miguel, whose psychological metamorphosis from a mama's boy to a hardened killer is every bit believable. While an array of portrayals by Sandy Andolong, Lisa Lorena and Maneul Ojeda balances the film with subtlety, the film is made literally alive amid the film's more dragging moments by commanding performances from Lorli Villanueva and especially Mitch Valdez (credited as Maya Valdes in the film) as the calculating 'doktora', whose sexual promiscuity inspires the innocent Trining (Cherie Gil) to pursue and quench the thirsts of the flesh with Hermes (the vastly underrated Ronnie Lazaro), a Guerrilla rendered mute by the war.

There's no question about "Oro, Plata, Mata's" distinct influence across Philippine cinema. Whether it's the scope, the family-centered narrative or the violence, this film attracted 'greatness' for itself but does not brag about it. Never did I feel, all throughout its more than 3 hours of running time, that the film relished in self-importance. Self-indulgent, yes, there were specific scenes which were more a showcase of great cinematography and production design than sharp needles to stitch the whole film together. But still, "Oro, Plata, Mata" is nonetheless a lasting Filipino film that tackled the horrors, the deep wounds and the indelible scars of the Second World War unlike any other of its kind.

In the long run (quite literally for its length), it's never an overly pacifist film. Although there's this ambiguous 'diwata' character played by Kuh Ledesma that may subjectively symbolize the tarnished state of our 'Inang Bayan' (Mother Land) during the onset of war, the film is more about the isolated effect of violence and sexual immorality upon two families than it is a cinematic anti-war essay. Hell, we only see one Japanese soldier in the entirety of the film.

"Oro, Plata, Mata" is never concerned about the sentiments against foreign oppression that comes from islands away. With its blood-drenched message, the film is a brutal depiction of how at chaotic times, barbarism and decay gush out from nowhere else but within one's own backyard.

FINAL RATING

Hamlet (Kenneth Branagh)

4 hours long? "To be or not to be."

Film Review Archive (date seen: October 31, 2010)

An exhausting (both in length and content) but worthwhile screen adaptation of arguably the masterwork of William Shakespeare. Hamlet, as how he was always described as the "Melancholic Dane", lingers through every stage productions and film renditions with controlled anger and fury suppressed by sadness.

But Kenneth Branagh, who also directed the film, added an energetic haze into the Prince's persona, turning him from a quiet rebel into an unpredictable, flamboyant protagonist, playing out the character with both loud intensity and emotional subtlety. Through its running length of 4 hours, though there are some clever use of quick editing, Branagh's "Hamlet" may very well be one of the cases of "substance over style", championing the sheer strength of Shakespeare's material too much that the film itself sometimes becomes unconscious of its cinematic audience and that some of it actually looked very much "theatrical", save for the live sets.

If I have to pick the best "Hamlet" adaptation from the 3 which I have seen, I have to say the Laurence Olivier version, with this and Franco Zeffirelli's tied; Though this film version is good, I thought its visuals were too pretty to completely emphasize the core of the play, yet it's (the visuals) also one of the film's main points that made it much more accessible than the other versions. I'm really unsure on what to say about this film, but maybe it's an unconscious psychological effect from the "man that could not make up his mind".

FINAL RATING

Das Boot (Wolfgang Petersen)

Submerged claustrophobia.

Film Review Archive (date seen: September 18, 2010)

Claustrophobic and tense, "Das Boot" is an epic human study of survival set in the less-explored battlefields of the great second world war: the vast nothingness of the oceans. We know the stories of war zones: Stalingrad, Iwo Jima, Normandy. All has been said about those places: heroism, tragedy, casualties, you name it. But then there lies, beneath the watery abyss, the untold lives and existence of U-boat crews. The tension, anticipation, disappointments and camaraderie. Who would have surmised that a film out of these would be conceived? And even more so, the Germans, the much-dreaded stereotypical villains of the war genre, as chief protagonists? Director Wolfgang Petersen broke the boundaries of the genre and presented the said race not as ideological, ethnocentric monsters, but as vulnerable individuals that still cower on the face of imminent danger.

Jurgen Prochnow is unforgettable as the U-boat's captain, having the required experience and strength of character for such position, but still mentally encapsulated by endless insecurities and anxiety about the military hardware and capabilities of the Nazi regime. There were sequences of supreme technicalities always obligatory on the war genre but ultimately surpassing it and boasts not of the loud explosions and hard clashing of metals, but its brilliant foreshadowing of tension, its perfectly-balanced criss-cross between the narrow, sweaty confines of the U-boats' interior and the turbulent expanse of the perilous waters. Some complain about its long running time, but I think its the right approach to the film to thoroughly maintain the distress throughout the film, bombard audiences' senses with relentless suspense and create a credible bond and affection between the characters.

Adolf Hitler is on his podium, reciting reasons of the Aryan race's supremacy and yelling preposterous ideologies. But deep down the unforgiving bowels of the seas, lies the men to whom the world he promised; disillusioned, desperate, and hungry for home, they don't care about global conquest, they just need the 'silent run' and the 'surface'.

FINAL RATING