12 Years a Slave (Steve McQueen)

Solomon chained.

In 2012, we were given multiple films about slavery, one about its abolition and the other plainly about its utter insanity, in the form of "Lincoln" and "Django Unchained": two films directed by premiere filmmakers Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarantino. This time, Steve McQueen ("Hunger" and "Shame"), a filmmaker who has steadily established himself throughout the past few years as a potent auteur, brings us "12 Years a Slave": a film that dares to strip 19th century slavery down to its bare essentials and examine the utter savagery that permeates its heart. 

Granted, "12 Years a Slave" is not an easy film to watch, as it contains plenty of racially discomforting scenes and is characterized by a sort of brutal realism that would make you feel awfully heavy all throughout. But as cliched as this may sound, this is perhaps one of the most eye-opening films about racism that I've seen. It is visceral, soulful, and even melancholic. It's without politics and gratuitous fantasy violence. It is sans sentimental speeches and a courageous, white man-slapping hero ala Sidney Poitier in "In the Heat of the Night" at its center. It is an ugly 2-hour portrait of racial oppression and inequality, sure, but what makes it even more heart-rending is the tragic character that exists in its core in the form of Solomon Northup, portrayed by Chiwetel Ejiofor with so much nuanced honesty that to just look at his suffering face is already painful enough to do. It's a film that will wrench your guts and twist your bones in anger, but at the same time, it will also move you to tears. Only a handful of films have made me so furious yet very much helpless, and this is definitely one of them.

The cast, comprised mainly of unknown but immensely talented African-American actors (watch out for Dwight Henry and Quvenzhané  Wallis of "Beasts of the Southern Wild" fame), have finely taken on the film's somber tone while also being intensely emotional in all the right moments without being overly dramatic. And if Chiwetel Ejiofor's devastating performance as Solomon Northup, a free black man who was tricked into slavery (and who has also written the book from which this was based), was the film's heart and soul, Lupita Nyong'o's empathetic turn as Patsey is its flesh, blood, and bones. 

On the other hand, Michael Fassbender, who just never ceases to amaze everyone with his almost unreal acting skills, is pure evil as Edwin Epps, the cotton plantation owner that Solomon and company were unfortunate enough to be sold to. Perennially drunk, ever-amorous, and always armed with a whip and his tendencies to power trip, Epps is the worst kind of slaver (not that I'm saying that there were actually good ones). As crazy as this may sound, countless times have I wished for "Django Unchained's" King Schultz to just magically appear out of nowhere, saunter along Epps' cotton plantation, and just blow his brains out. But then again, this is not how films work. Trust me, though; you will surely have a desire to really rewatch "Django Unchained", what with its not-so-diplomatic way of getting rid of the slave trade, as a sort of natural post-viewing reaction. It's that infuriating a film.  

For some, "12 Years a Slave" may come across as a film that desperately asks for pity the same way beggars ask for alms, or perhaps unnaturally incites moral indignation the same way how films about anything remotely biblical upset hardcore believers. But what it is certainly not, for sure, is a film devoid of emotional power. For only 2 hours, the film was able to delineate the violent extent of bigotry, both in action and in words, without resorting to unnecessary discourses about the politics of the situation. The film is assured in its stance about racism, but its power comes not from the white characters' shocking utterances of the 'N' word or from the disturbing scenes involving slaves and whips but from the tranquil scenes of the laborers humming soulfully while harvesting cotton, singing sadly yet defiantly while they bury a dead colleague, and from scenes of them painfully trying to keep their human decency intact even in the face of inhumanity. And if ever the age of slavery has taught us anything, then it is the fact that it never hurts to once in a while look back in retrospect and reflect at things that ultimately matter. 

"12 Years a Slave", undoubtedly one of the best films of 2013, is hardly a crash course about the historical scope of slavery, or even a cinematic indictment of all its evils. Looking at it personally, the film is essentially a story of resilience in a time when hope usually gets swatted away by condescending slaps and skin-tearing whiplashes. And kudos to Steve McQueen, who has finally made a relatively mainstream film but was still able to preserve his trademark aesthetics (that unsettling long take when Solomon Northup is hanging on a tree), he has created another film, after "Hunger", that marvels at the strength of the human spirit and makes the pain of proving it seem yet again palpable and all too real.

FINAL RATING 

Lincoln (Steven Spielberg)

Honest Abe.

Honest Abe, the Liberator, the Great Emancipator. Throughout the course of human history, or to be more exact, the human understanding of history, Abraham Lincoln has always been highly considered as a pinnacle icon of human nobility, and numerous films have been made about him. From John Ford's "Young Mr. Lincoln" (starring Henry Fonda) to the insanely random "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter", Honest Abe has always been ubiquitous in the annals of cinema. But do you know what's the only thing lacking? Yes, you've guessed right, a proper biopic that would cater to a modern audience. And that, my friends, is just what director Steven Spielberg has given us: a version of Abraham Lincoln that wouldn't kill vampires for pleasure or would just serve as a supporting snippet for a Nostradamus documentary (D.W. Griffith's "Abraham Lincoln") but one that would really make us feel how it is to be a pressured leader whose sole purpose is to deliver his country from prejudice and bondage. 

     

It of course stars one of the greatest actors of our time, Daniel Day-Lewis, as the eponymous American president, a role that has deservedly given him his third Academy Award (although my heart still have a soft spot for Joaquin Phoenix's performance in "The Master"). Even from this film's early stages of pre-production, I was keen enough to follow the latest developments, specifically when Liam Neeson has surprisingly decided to vacate the lead role. In a way, when Neeson left the cast, I thought the film will certainly be shelved. But then, the great news has struck me: according to reports, Daniel Day-Lewis has agreed to replace Neeson as Lincoln. And then just like that, the film's first production picture, that of DDL sitting with a humble grin, came out; Day-Lewis, even in his casual, non-19th century garb, looks spot-on as the much-venerated president. From that moment on, with him looking more Abraham Lincoln than Abraham Lincoln himself, I just knew it: Daniel Day-Lewis will make history as the first actor to nab 3 Best Actor Oscars. And bless the Oracle of Delphi, made he did. 

     

Although "Lincoln", as a period biopic, sometimes lacks the particular liveliness that characterizes the genre, Day-Lewis' performance and Steve Kushner's exquisitely written screenplay was able to work hand-in-hand to carry the whole film through. And for Spielberg, who, for this film, is surprisingly subtle in his sentimentalism, his choice of where to approach Lincoln's humanity was perfect, and that is through Abe's humbling skill as a storyteller. Instead of utilizing some emotionally swaying speeches (hell, the Gettysburg address has not even seen the light of day), Spielberg has filtered Lincoln's influential personality through his witty retelling of various anecdotes and whatnot, which makes him all the more endearing and instantly reachable not just for the characters that surround him but also for us viewers. In this case, myth-making works the other way around: this time, a veneer of enigma won't certainly do Abe Lincoln's personality justice. What's needed is a dose of humble humanity and some hints of vulnerability, which this film has taken on with class. 

     

Consider the brief scene when Abe's son is sleeping on the floor. Instead of immediately bringing him to his bed, Abe, uncharacteristic of a larger-than-life leader, slowly hunched his posture and lied down on the floor with his son. Despite the film's abundance of memorable images, this is the scene that has stayed with me the most. Perhaps the film is suggesting that more than being a father of an entire nation, Lincoln is also the patriarch of a simple family, and in many cases, it's as important to be good as the latter as it is to be great as the former. 

     

Again, Spielberg was able to display his exceptional range as a director in this film; that he can be subtle as he can be emotionally preachy and that he can direct sequences of massive proportions the same way he can execute smaller scenes of emotional resonance. If ever this film has proven anything, aside of course from Daniel Day-Lewis' flawless acting prowess (not to mention the film's great supporting cast that is headlined by the great Sally Field and the grumpy-looking yet very witty Tommy Lee Jones) which has given life and character to a man whom we have never even seen in actual footage or even heard deliver speeches, then it is Spielberg's utter completeness as a filmmaker. 

     

But then again, after all is said and done, this film is solely Abraham Lincoln's: A man who has shaken the status quo for the sake of a higher purpose, a man who has delivered America from the ruthless hands of slavery, and a man who, simply put, has forever changed the face of human history.

FINAL RATING

Argo (Ben Affleck)

Rescue 101: The Hollywood Way.

First, he won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. And then, he went on to direct a fine adaptation of a Dennis Lehane novel, which was then followed by a tense, Boston-set crime thriller. But despite all those, many are still quite unsure as to whether or not Ben Affleck is really more than just a pretty face and if he really is a capable filmmaker and screenwriter. This perception of him, of course, can mainly be attributed to cinematic abominations such as "Gigli" and "Pearl Harbor", both of which he had unfortunately starred in. Here then enters "Argo", a gripping thriller that may surely turn even the most extreme Affleck skeptics into instant believers. Well, although I won't completely go out of my way as to call Affleck a bad filmmaker, I'm honestly not that deeply awed of his directorial body of work prior to this film. Intrigued by what he can do, maybe, but not that much. But this time around, count me in as one of them converts; "Argo" is indeed an insanely great film.

     

Being a regular inhabitant at Cracked (a very intelligent comedy website), I was able to constantly scan through numerous well-written humor articles that tackle relatively obscure historical/political facts and stories. One of them, obviously, is the very story of "Argo" itself, which has fascinated me (and made me laugh at some point, naturally) to high heavens when I first read it. Yet weird enough, when "Argo" was released, I haven't the slightest idea that it is indeed about the said 'Cracked' article. Instead, what I thought the film will be is something akin to a mere stylistic copy of Roman Polanski's "The Ghost Writer". But boy was I wrong.

     

Packed with just the right amount of endearing characterization, tense sequences and moments of genuine humor, "Argo" is easily one of the best films of the year specifically because of how it has managed to be both politically compelling and entertaining at the same time, with great supporting performances by Alan Arkin and John Goodman (as the legendary Hollywood make-up artist John Chambers) to boot. As for Affleck's performance itself, it is, in no way, very memorable, especially when he's in scenes alongside Walter White, er, Bryan Cranston, who's just perfect in that bureaucratic CIA role. But even though Affleck's acting is not much of a revelation (his first choice for the role was not himself but Brad Pitt), the real star in this film is his inspired directorial effort; that and the beauty of 'science fiction' itself, which the film was able to subtly highlight.

     

Of course, with "Argo" being a politically-charged film, its closeness to the truth is surely a great question, especially in its depiction of the Iranian populace and the real role of Canada in the accomplishment of the rescue mission. But for me, "Argo" is really not much about politics. Instead, what I think the film is actually all about is how seemingly contradictory forces (the Hollywood and the Government; Canada and the USA) can do an almost miraculous difference, all with the help of a make-believe planet and some storyboard aliens.

     

Like 2011's "Hugo", "Argo", although very sublimely at that, is a tribute to the power of movies, and how it's not just a medium where we're able to discover the intricacies of life, but one which can also save some. And who would have thought that it will be some cheaply-imagined science fiction tale that can do such? "Argo", despite its heavily political nature, is an understated celebration of the imagination.

     

For the longest time, the science fiction genre has been widely considered as the ultimate form of 'escape'. Indeed, in many cases, it actually is, what with its abundance of colorful interplanetary creatures, silver-clad heroes and interstellar adventures. But let's not forget that, for once, it was also instrumental for actually pulling off quite a literal one. "Argo", a stunningly inspired sleeper of a film, will forever remind us of that fact.

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 Lives of Others (Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck)

Intently listening.

A second viewing.

With Francis Ford Coppola's "The Conversation" being its closest cinematic kin, "The Lives of Others", one of the decade's best films and is also a stunning directorial debut by Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, is also exceptional in its well-calculated thrills and is touchingly human in its very essence, which more or less separates it from the aforementioned paranoid classic. "The Lives of Others", with its beautiful emotional center that develops and permeates throughout the film, elevates itself from merely being a strongly-acted piece about the iron-fisted times of the German Democratic Republic into a genuinely transcendent piece about the beauty and mystery of human nature.

Set in 1980's East Germany during the times when German socialism is at an all-time high, privacy invasions through surveillances a commonality, and the destruction of the Berlin Wall nothing but an unrealized fantasy. Wiesler, played by the late Ulrich Muhe in a truly underrated performance that I think should be considered as one of the best in the last twenty years or so, is a seemingly cold surveillance expert and Stasi (German secret police) agent with principles that are well-intact, objective methods for investigations that are proven to be effective, and a solitary way of life. For many years, he has been a success in his field, capable of making suspected radicals squeal the names of associates and potential inciters of rebellion against the state confess to whatever they know. But despite of his strengths and an ability to thoroughly dissect, he struggles to connect.

"Stay a little while", says Wiesler as he futilely tries to convince a cheap prostitute to stay with him after they had a stiff sexual intercourse. Ironically, he is a man that technically controls the fate of those he interrogates and wiretaps but can't even guide his own. Here is a man whose existence has been rendered almost meaningless by his work but still oblivious of the fact.

Enter Dreyman (Sebastian Koch), a playwright, and Christa-Maria (Martina Gedeck), a stage actress: a couple that has been ordered to be put under surveillance technically because of radical suspicions but is really about Minister Hempf's (Thomas Thieme), a Stasi superior, ulterior intent to personally own Christa-Maria for his own sexual fulfillment.

Wiesler willingly signed up for the former but never for the latter; and to make his situation even more conflicted, Dreyman is slowly turning into the serious GDR critic that he was always suspected to be. And to make it even worse, Wiesler is silently being drawn into the couple's personal world plagued by emotional imperfections and forces they cannot control but nonetheless proved to fit Wiesler's concept of transcendent human connection. Furthermore, it's a world that Wiesler has never experienced before let alone felt. They represent his most hidden of hopes and the very truth of his own being.

But there's one personal challenge for him: He mustn't fly too close to the fire. Should he be the silently harsh Stasi agent that he always was? Or should he be a silent crusader for the sake of what's more righteous and more beautiful, at least for him?

From such a simple character as Wiesler, in a performance by Ulrich Muhe that is brilliantly understated and flawlessly complete, "The Lives of Others" has brilliantly embraced emotional importance and an unconditional faith in humanity more than the usual conundrums of a suspense-filled affair.

Director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck once mentioned in an interview (and is also mentioned briefly in the film) that he was always fascinated of the fact that Vladimir Lenin, as it was told, can't seem to bring himself into finishing the Russian revolution every time he listens to Beethoven's 'Appasionata', his favorite musical piece of all time.

If the power of art can bring or manipulate people to such momentary departures from who they really are, how powerful can it really be? But is that really the case? What if art and beauty, in fact, brings people closer into what they really are? "The Lives of Others" sided with the potential idea that humans are innately good and that humanity, for whatever it has been all throughout history, always strives for an inner truth. The oblivious Wiesler unconsciously did, and unlike Lenin, his 'Appasionata' never stopped playing.

FINAL RATING

Good Bye, Lenin! (Wolfgang Becker)

'Oh well, goodbye then'.

I was quite weary before watching this film as I haven't been that familiar with the history of German division aside from the fall of Berlin Wall and well, Reagan's famous 'tear down this wall' speech. But "Good Bye, Lenin!", with a narrator (that's also the film's protagonist) that seem far too poetic at times but ultimately convincing, delivered the necessary information with a tone of mundane deliberateness to highlight the character's naturalism for audiences to follow the film's political background closely .

It's as if there's a far more important theme to tackle other than socialist intricacies. But of course, there is: An enduring story of a son's love to his mother devoid of any conditionals.

After his socialist mother (Katrin Sass in an impressive performance) has awakened from an 8-month comma due to a heart attack, Alex (played by Daniel Bruhl, whom you may recognize as Frederick Zoller in the later Tarantino film "Inglourious Basterds"), who have learned from the doctor that his mother shouldn't be shocked or hooked into excitement in any way whatsoever as it may result to complications, is eager to keep her home. But complications is never just a health dilemma. The Berlin Wall has fallen. It's now one Germany, and the stocks of Spreewald gherkins has cruised into scarcity. Her mother's reality has turned into a unified land filled with alien capitalism.

He faced the situation with a calm demeanor and absurdist resolute, and helped by his friend and aspirant filmmaker Denis (Florian Lukas, who's like a cross between Robert Carlyle and a younger Ed Harris), decided to re-create GDR in ingenious kinds of ways as to prevent her mother from having the heart-thumping revelation of her life. A well-intended deception heightened by comedy. A 'comedy' that surely roots out from social idealism (the mother) suppressed by empirical determination.

Director Wolfgang Becker directed these sequences with uncommon energy and quirks that the first hour of the film flowed so effortlessly with quick pace, ease and story-telling delight. Yet from those elements mainly conceived from clever concepts and scenarios, "Good Bye, Lenin!" is still focused in its human drama.

It's less a politically-toned film than it is a penetrating study of connection (Alex's family), re-connection (the father sub-plot) and disconnection (from A horrid emotional past and the attachment to the GDR). Of course, from the point of view of a German who have experienced the social atmosphere of East/West Germany, "Good Bye, Lenin!" is mainly affecting due to the countless nostalgic references to olden times and the euphoric destruction of separatist sentiments. But from those way outside looking in (like me), what's very special with this film is its balance of happiness and melancholy by way of how it highlights the fun of liberty and the anguish of mistakes.

"Good Bye, Lenin!" is very eloquent on all sides, capturing the essential 'celebratory' mood of reunified Germany and the irony of the countless ruins and how it tries to accommodate its reverberated surroundings in desperate vain, especially how the wrecked Lenin statue hanging below a helicopter seems to communicate something to Alex's mother (one of the many great scenes in the film) as if asking for forgiveness or asking for her hand and saying, 'my child, my deeply socialist child, come with me'.

From its shifting pace to comic moments and times of tears, "Good Bye, Lenin!" has been strongly consistent with the entirety of its delivery and it has rendered a political reverie-turned reality into a convincing world of varied emotions and where euphemistic acceptance is a possibility. And moreover, departing from the complexities, the film is, simply put, a lasting love letter to all mothers who have loved their children unlike any other.

FINAL RATING