Demolition Review

Movies about disconnected, mentally ill people are nothing new. As a matter of fact, it’s often an obligatory role that actors will often go for to give them some awards attention. However, in those kinds of movies, there is often a sense that the main character is just troubled for now, but will find his way eventually. After all, these awards conscious movies have to have some kind of over arching message after all, and what’s a socially awkward character without redemption. Demolition however, is in many ways a whole other animal. This isn’t a film that’s particularly interested in redeeming it’s deeply grief stricken characters so much as it is an excuse to study them as they carry on. That may be an unsatisfying notion for many, but then there’s me.

The film opens with Davis Mitchel (Jake Gyllenhaal), a successful investment banker, losing his wife in a horrific car accident. However, he frankly seems more disturbed by his peanut M&Ms getting stuck in the hospital vending machine than he is by the loss of his life partner. In fact, he doesn’t seem to care about much of anything, much to the extreme aggravation of Phil (Chris Cooper), his grieving father in law/boss. Davis becomes fascinated by destruction, wanting nothing more than to break apart all of the material possessions he acquired of the course of his marriage. Meanwhile, he befriends Karen (Naomi Watts), a customer service rep at the vending machine company who becomes moved by his detailed complaint letters, and her young son Chris (Judah Lewis).

Demolition paints itself into a deep corner by pinning the story on a character as challenging as Davis. Since we’re essentially centering on a borderline sociopath, who has to force himself to relate to the death of his own wife, the entire narrative could have easily collapsed if the actor didn’t pull it of just right. Fortunately, we have Gyllenhaal, who has become something of a master of these kinds of characters as of late. Essentially dialing down his Nightcrawler persona into somebody who could at least somewhat function in normal society, he masterfully pulls the audience into every word Davis says. He’s an absolutely puzzling individual, but Gyllenhaal finds something about him that is absorbing and completely human. Watts and Cooper play their notes just right, even if their characters are slight cliches, but the real break-out supporting star here is Lewis. Chris is a boy with perhaps as much of a disconnection from society as Davis, and when the movie turns into a bonding story between these two odd-balls, that’s when it really kicks into gear. There’s something very realistic about the way these characters very naturalistically relate, and the film is smart enough to just let them be without forcing them into a trite direction.

Jean-Marc Valee, who previously directed Dallas Buyers Club and Wild, proves once again that he is very adept at character study. Scenes will occasionally be a bit curt, as if he’s trying to make us as disconnected from our surroundings as Davis is. That said,  his direction here isn’t showy, only occasionally opting to let anything but his characters do the storytelling. He’s here to let his actors act, often exuding a similar vibe that David O Russell did with Silver Linings Playbook. He keeps everything moving at a nimble pace, ensuring that we aren’t stuck focusing on one piece of Davis’ grief for too long. There’s also a really nice conclusion here rising only just to the point it needs to to feel poetic and dramatic, while not shoving the messages down the audience’s throat.

While perhaps not a movie that will be super memorable once the more sizable dramas of the year come into play, Demolition is a solid drama that occasionally has moments as destructive as it’s main character. Gyllenhaal is given yet another showcase for his undeniable talent, while Valee delivers a story that may leave some feeling a little cold if they’re expecting that’s a bit more Hollywood, but may surprise those with an open mind. If you’re trying to dodge all of the superheroes, bullets, and Melissa McCarthys in theaters right now, you may want to grab a bulldozer and crash into this one.

Rating: A- 

Birdman Review

Alas my friends, we have arrived at the undisputed champion of this years festival circuit. The film that every online blogger, newspaper critic, and random IMDB message boarder who was lucky enough to score a screening says that you ‘have’ to see, and why wouldn’t they? Birdman seems to have everything that these sorts of audiences love, experimental filmmaking techniques, hollywood satire, and a couple leading men in desperate need of a comeback. Hell, it seems as though this might be one of the main oscar contenders this year. Even with all that hype surrounding it, I did my best to approach Birdman not as an impending masterpiece going in, despite being almost certain that I would join that very chorus of ‘Birdman’ worshipers. I can’t say it worked out that way…

Birdman centers on Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton), a washed up actor who back in the early 90s played an massively popular superhero named Birdman, but is now stuck writing/directing/staring in a broadway adaptation of a book for, as his daughter Sam (Emma Stone) puts it, rich white people who are more concerned with what they are getting to eat afterwards. The rehearsals and previews for this production have been, simply put, a disaster. Not only is Riggan dealing with his own existential crisis as he faces the potential end of his career, but when one of the leading men in the play is brutally injured, Riggan is forced to turn to one of his actresses’ (Naomi Watts) boyfriend Mike Shiner (Edward Norton), an acclaimed but deliriously egotistical man who is almost purely concerned with how he thinks the play should be.

On paper, Birdman certainly is a deeply impressive film, particularly from a technical standpoint. Almost the entire film is presented as one continuous take, and while there are certainly cheats here and there, this gives the entire film a very play-like feel (deeply appropriate considering the setting). It’s not only impressive based on the sheer level of technique and blocking incorporated, but it also really gives the actors a chance to live and breathe in these scenes. While the dialogue is certainly very over the top, the presentation aids that, and as such, the non naturalism comes off a great deal more organic then it would if the film was made traditionally.

 

The actors here are mostly stellar. Keaton certainly has not had such a meaty role in quite some time, and he jumps full force into it, embodying Riggan’s madness stemming from wanting to feel important again. It’s deeply personal, darkly comic performance that does anchors everything wonderfully. Norton is even better, adapting to and satirizing the arrogant, control hogging persona that he seems to have built a reputation for having. Even so, Mike is never just a stock villain, getting plenty of moments to show humanity mostly through his interactions with Stone, who is also very strong as the film’s main voice of reason. Zach Galifianakis also has a nice role as Riggan’s agent, nicely subduing his normal persona while still delivering the laugh. The only weak link here is Watts, who goes slightly over the top here, particularly in several monologues where her character is going off about how she was just an innocent little actress with broken expectations. Her performance makes it feel a little forced, but granted, it’s not a very good character either.

So with all these great working parts, how come this film didn’t hit for me the way it has for so many others? To put it simply, I just didn’t care. Despite director Alejandro Inarritu’s best efforts in making me sympathize and connect with these pathological, egotistical people, it just never connected with me. There’s an aura of self importance that protrudes through this film like an airborne virus, and it never lets up. It’s a movie that repeatedly bashed me over the head with just how “important” true acting and production is, and how “soulless and cynical” the world outside of it is. Yes, I understand that it’s all satirical, but since the film isn’t nearly as funny as it seems to think it is, it just spills over into condescension. As a result, I was never truly gripped by the main conflict, merely forced to enjoy individual shining moments (of which there are quite a few), as opposed to the film as a whole.

Also, the movie completely squanders what could have been a brilliantly dark and deeply satirical final shot in favor of laboriously moving on for another fifteen minutes to end on an image that is equal parts baffling, nonsensical, and silly. I was literally ready to forgive most of my problems with this film because of this potential ending, and then it just spat in my face. Very disappointing indeed.

If I were to grade Birdman on a report card based simply on assembly, it would probably sore pretty high. There’s no doubt that Inarritu has created a masterfully assembled piece here, with some of the most fascinating cinematography I’ve seen in a film in many years, coupled by fantastic performances. With that said, I quite simply never found myself enjoying the film, and I would be lying both to myself, and to you, my lovely readers, if I avoided that simple truth. It’s definitely worth seeing to form your own opinion, but for me, this is one flight that I’ll definitely be only taking one way.

Grade: C+