Review: Jackie (2016)

* * * *
Director: Pablo Larrain
Starring: Natalie Portman

History isn't what happened, it's how what happened is remembered. That's why a phrase like "history is written by the victors" exists, because the legacy of an event is not a passive thing that simply occurs naturally, but something that is actively created and shaped for a specific purpose. Of course there are multiple versions of the legacy of John F. Kennedy, including the legacy of conspiracy created by his assassination, and the legacy of ambition tied to tragedy that hangs over the Kennedy family in popular imagination, but Jackie is specifically about the romantic legacy of Camelot, that enduring image of the Kennedy administration as being bathed in a golden, glamorous glow, as fragile and fleeting as it was beautiful. Jackie is about the creation of that idea, first given voice in an interview of Jackie Kennedy for Life magazine, and it's a raw, brutally intimate portrait of personal grief played out on a national stage. It's also a great movie that centers on what may prove to be the defining performance of Natalie Portman's career.

Review: Jane Got a Gun (2016)

* *
Director: Gavin O'Connor
Starring: Natalie Portman, Joel Edgerton, Ewan McGregor

Gene Siskel had a pretty simple test for determining the relative value of a film: is the end product more interesting than a documentary about the same actors having lunch? A film with a production history as famously fraught as Jane Got a Gun can simply never pass that test. I bet a documentary about the goings on behind the scenes of this film would be fascinating. It was developed and originally set to be directed by Lynne Ramsay, but she walked off the project before shooting could begin on the first day, resulting in both a lawsuit and Ramsay being replaced by Gavin O'Connor. The role of the main character's ex-lover was originally set to be played by Michael Fassbender, with the villain to be played by Joel Edgerton. However, when Fassbender dropped out, Edgerton was recast into his role and Jude Law was brought on board to play the villain. Then, when Ramsay walked, Law went with her, as did original cinematographer Darius Khondji. Bradley Cooper was then brought in to replace Law, Mandy Walker stepped in as cinematographer, and Edgerton and Anthony Tambakis were hired to rewrite the script that had been prepared by Brian Duffield. Finally, Cooper withdrew and Ewan McGregor came aboard to take his place. All that fuss and the result is really nothing to write home about, with Jane Got a Gun ending up being, at best, an okay B-western, and, at worst, a messy mix of the original vision plus all the subsequent visions of the story.

Review: Closer (2004)

* *
Director: Mike Nichols
Starring: Jude Law, Julia Roberts, Natalie Portman, Clive Owen

Love is a battlefield. The characters in Closer take that notion to heart, waging a winner take all brawl which leaves them all a little worse for wear by the end. The winner? Anyone and everyone who doesn't end up with any of these idiots. This is a story about four increasingly repulsive people who throw the word "love" around while openly embracing misery and making sure to spread it around to others. Closer is the sort of movie people describe as being about adults, yet it centers on characters whose emotional maturity seems to have peaked at approximately the age of 12. To be sure, the performances (particularly that of Clive Owen) are occasionally electrifying, but good lord is this story, with its seemingly endless back and forth and back again, tedious.

Review: Black Swan (2010)

* * * *
Director: Darren Aronofsky
Starring: Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassel, Barbara Hershey

I've given it some thought and the conclusion that I've come to regarding Black Swan is that if someone had just given that girl a vibrator and twenty minutes in peace, none of that would have happened. Darren Aronofsky's latest is a film deeply entrenched in sexual repression/shame, its protagonist driven over the edge when tasked with connecting, on any level, to her sensuality. It makes for an intense, thrilling and absolutely excellent film.

Natalie Portman stars as Nina Sayers, twenty-something ballerina balanced precariously on the precipice of sanity. She's infantalized by her overbearing mother (Barbara Hershey), herself a former dancer, who keeps her in a perpetual state of childhood in order to exert control over her and live vicariously through her. Nina dances for a company run by Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) and in which Beth MacIntyre (Winona Ryder) has long reigned as prima ballerina. However, the company has been losing money, prompting Thomas to replace Beth and announce his plans for a daring reimagining of the Tchaikovsky classic Swan Lake. Though she's amongst the dancers he picks to audition for The Swan Queen, Thomas has his doubts about Nina's ability to portray The Black Swan half of the role, and while Nina does get the lead, she has a lot of work to do in order to prove herself.

Nina's struggle to connect with the sexually charged role is intensified by the arrival of a Lily (Mila Kunis), a new dancer whom Thomas praises for the passion of her dancing, even if she's not as technically proficient as Nina. Nina immediately feels threatened by Lily, whom she is convinced is trying to destroy and replace her. As the ballet's opening night approaches, Nina begins to drift further and further from reality, her anxieties expressed through bodily mutilation, violent fantasies (although how much is fantasy and how much is reality is up for debate), and paranoid outbursts.

To return to my original statement, if you haven't seen Black Swan yet, you might think that I was being facetious, but if you have seen the film, then you know just how true that statement is. This is not simply a story about a woman who isn't in touch with her sexuality, but about a woman who has been actively denied the opportunity or the space to mature sexually. Her identity in this respect is so underdeveloped that even Thomas - whose penchant for referring to his, ahem, protégés as "my little princess" would suggest that he isn't opposed to relationships in which the balance of power is significantly in his favor - thinks twice about getting involved with her.

Nina is the embodiment of the innocent white swan but rather than being drawn to a prince, she's alternately attracted to and repelled by the sexual energy of the Black Swan embodied by Lily. Given that the bodily horror aspect of the story has to do with the impossibility of denying one's true nature (the "black swan" part of Nina has been repressed, but in the end it overpowers her and she imagines that she's physically becoming the black swan), I think it's significant that the only positive (albeit only briefly positive and then ultimately destructive) sexual response Nina has is to Lily. I think a decent argument could be made for Black Swan as a story of coming out and the power of internalized homophobia, though I don't think I could properly articulate such an argument after just one viewing of the film.

The imagery of Black Swan can sometimes be lacking in subtlety but Aronofsky maintains such a high level of tension throughout the film that the force of the narrative just rolls right over you so that you aren't really bothered by the spoon fed symbolism. This is an incredibly intense and engrossing film and while I know that the whole is-it-real-or-is-it-hallucination thing will be off-putting to some, I think that Aronofsky makes it work each and every time. The fragility of Nina's mental state is established pretty much immediately but the film keeps building it up and building it up until finally getting to the point of her final descent into madness. The way this plays out is frightening and mesmerizing, leading to an ending that leaves you breathless.

At this point I don't think that there's anything I can add to the conversation about how great Portman's performance is or how brave; I can simply confirm that she's fantastic. The whole cast, really, is great from Hershey's clingy stage mother to Cassel's lecherous director to Kunis' Eve Harrington-esque understudy to Ryder's desperate fading star. The performances work together in a perfect harmony of chaos and while there is no doubt that Portman will receive an Oscar nomination for her work here, hopefully the supporting cast will receive some recognition as well.

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Maythew #4: Leon (1994)

* * * 1/2
Director: Luc Besson
Starring: Jean Reno, Natalie Portman, Gary Oldman

First of all, many thanks to my brother for picking a movie that I've been meaning to see for a long time. Second, many thanks to Luc Besson for making a movie that more than lives up to its formidable reputation. Leon (alternately known as The Professional and Leon: The Professional) is not just a fantastic action picture, it's also a pretty great character movie thanks in no small part to the central performances by Jean Reno and Natalie Portman.

Leon (Jean Reno) and Mathilda (Natalie Portman). On the surface the two could not seem to have less in common, one a grown contract killer, the other an abused child. Quickly, though, Leon establishes their personalities so that they seem to be on an even plane (which, incidentally, makes their relationship mildly less creepy. Mildly). Leon may be an efficient and ruthless killer, but he's also remarkably childlike, watching films with wide-eyed wonder, and submissively deferring to his mentor, a mobster named Tony (Danny Aiello). Mathilda, despite her young age and inherent immaturity, is nevertheless a remarkably self-possessed young woman who is, in certain ways, more grown up than her protector.

Leon and Mathilda are brought together following the slaughter of her family at the hands of rogue DEA agents lead by drug addicted Stansfield (Gary Oldman). Mathilda narrowly escapes death and reasons that since Leon saved her life, he's now responsible for it. He's reluctant to accept this responsibility but she persists, just as she's able to persist in convincing him to teach her how to be a "cleaner." She's a quick learner but not so quick that she's able to carry out her plans to exact revenge on Stansfield and her actions put her and Leon in an impossible situation that can only result in a great deal of bloodshed.

First and foremost, Leon is an awesome action movie. Besson has a great eye for staging dramatic and memorable action sequences and the final blowout between Leon and an entire police force is incredibly well crafted and executed. Even more amazing is that his attention to the visual details has not come at the expense of the characters, who are distinct and allowed to have dimension (though, in truth, Stansfield is a character who walks a fine line between inspired and over the top and Oldman's performance is something you'll either love or that will take you right out of the movie). The performances by Reno and Portman are pitch perfect, finding all the right notes in the complex relationship between their characters. There is absolutely no question in my mind as to why Leon only seems to grow in reputation as the years go by.

Matt's Thoughts: Young Natalie Portman is a creepy monster child, and I do not care for her lustfulness towards grown men. I'm not saying that Leon should have kept his door shut and allowed her to die in the hallway, but maybe Mathilda could have just left the groceries outside his door and walked away, saying she just needed to deliver them. It would have made Leon's life much easier. Also, he wouldn't be dead.

I liked the movie, but, again, my main concern is creepy Natalie Portman child. I understand that she was bored and stupid, but telling the desk clerk that you're the 12-year-old lover of a hitman is not that great an idea, considering he's, you know, a hitman. I just can't figure out why Leon left all of his money to her. She ruined your life, dude.

But maybe that's just my child-hate raging.

Review: Brothers (2009)

* * * 1/2
Director: Jim Sheridan
Starring: Toby Maguire, Natalie Portman, Jake Gyllenhaal

It has been said that you can never go home again. If this adage is true about simply growing up and becoming an adult, it must be doubly so about going away and returning from war. Brothers tackles this tricky and emotionally fraught subject from two perspectives: the soldier who returns and the family he returns to. It is an often harrowing film with a trio of fine performances that make it more than worth checking out.

The brothers of the title are Sam (Toby Maguire) and Tommy (Jake Gyllenhaal). Sam is the golden boy, the one who has always done right and is about to leave for a tour in Afghanistan, and Tommy is the perpetual screw up who has just been released from prison. Things are tense between Tommy and the rest of his family - he and his father (Sam Shepard) have always butted heads and the old tension is still very much there; and Sam's wife Grace (Natalie Portman) has never cared for him - but after Sam is reported dead overseas, Tommy steps up to help Grace, whether she likes it or not.

Tommy's not perfect but he tries hard and develops a nice rapport with Sam and Grace's two girls, Isabelle (Bailee Maddison) and Maggie (Taylor Geare). As they deal with Sam's death, Tommy and Grace grow closer, perhaps a little too close, and then have to pull back completely when they learn that Sam is not dead after all. Returning home Sam fixates on the tension he picks up on between Tommy and Grace in order to avoid having to deal with his experiences as a prisoner of war, which have left him traumatized. Avoidance, however, only gives his emotions time to build and when he finally reaches the breaking point, it threatens to tear the entire family apart permanently.

The story intercuts between scenes of Sam's experiences as a prisoner and scenes of the family back home trying to carry on in his absence. The juxtaposition is effective for the most part and sets up the shift in relationships that will occur when Sam finally gets back home. Though Tommy steps back - partly because Sam directly questions him about his relationship with Grace - Sam remains an outsider. His children are withdrawn from him, afraid of his moods and longing for the return of their uncle, and Grace, despite her efforts, simply can't understand him. His father, a war veteran himself, could understand him but, like Sam, he's reluctant to talk. Though the film is far less overtly political than its subject matter might suggest, it is an indictment of the macho, no emotions allowed, sensibility that in many ways defines popular ideas about the military and the people in it.

The three leads all deliver good performances that provide the film with a nice, lived in feeling. This is perhaps the most mature performance of Maguire's career so far and he manages to remain focused even when the story begins to veer into the cliched "crazy veteran" area. Portman renders a much quieter performance, playing a woman who is inwardly collapsing from grief but outwardly trying to keep it together for the sake of her children - it's a performance built more on what she doesn't do than what she does do, which can often be tricky. The real standout, however, is Gyllenhaal, who tells half of Tommy's story simply through body language. This is definitely an actors' showcase and it's surprising that outside of Maguire's Golden Globe nomination and Portman's nomination from the Chicago Film Critics, the performances weren't more widely embraced.

If the film has a flaw, it's ultimately to do with its treatment of the relationship between Grace and Tommy. There isn't really much heat between Gyllenhaal and Portman - Sam remarks at one point that they look at each other like two teenagers in love, and while I can see that coming from Tommy's side, I didn't get that from Grace - and the relationship itself is a bit too ambiguous and muted. The film works in spite of this but better chemistry would have gone a long way.