Bandwidth

Gratuitous photo of Kirsten Dunst in a wet tank top.  Or, the only redeeming feature of the Spiderman movies.

Drive

When I try to be all professional and shit…

Drive is about stunt driver Ryan Gosling, whose past-times include chewing toothpicks, brooding, and driving getaway cars for professional burglars. He is the perfect professional – a lone wolf who lives to drive and drives to live. Until, that is, he meets Carrie Mulligan, who is prettier than any woman really has a right to be. The Goz gets involved with her and her son and everything is going well, until her husband gets out of prison and comes home. The husband owes money to some nasty people, who want him to pull a job as payment. The Goz agrees to help him, because he is a bloody decent guy. But, of course, things don’t go to plan.

Films with this much style don’t often come with substance to match, so this is quite a rare species. The Goz, aside from being the handsomest devil on the planet, is a damn fine actor and turns in a pitch perfect performance as the getaway driver with such huge balls he has to wear specially tailored jeans. All of the actors are good too, but this is very much a one man movie. A man who doesn’t blink and has a scorpion on his jacket.

It just wouldn’t be right to neglect to mention the cinematography and the score, though – both of which are stunning. The attention to detail in every aspect of the film creates an experience that goes beyond simple storytelling. There is a cohesion between the story that is being told, and how it is being told, which is something most lazy film-makers just don’t bother with. The artistic merits offset the gloriously graphic violence, which rather than seeming gratuitous, is brutal and shocking and absolutely right for the tone of the film, turning a simple shotgun blast to the head into a beautiful ballet of brains and blood.  That’s right, alliteration bitch.

A truly exceptional piece of uber-cool cinema.

When I just say what I really thought…

Ron Perlman is like a fucking alligator. He has too many teeth and his number one interest is murder. And he’s not even the best thing about this goddamn movie…

Melancholia

When I try to be all professional and shit…

Melancholia is a film in two halves. The first one is about a doomed wedding reception for newly-weds Justine (Kirsten Dunst) and Michael (Alexander Skarsgard). Not only can their family members not get along, Justine is suffering from a sort of melancholia that is only made worse by everyone’s insistence that she be happy. The second chapter, as Von Trier does enjoy his films in chapters, is about Justine’s sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg) who is convinced that a planet called Melancholia, which is due to pass by close to Earth, is actually going to collide with and destroy the entire planet. As if that isn’t enough to worry about, she is also trying to look after Justine, whose melancholia has developed into a fully fledged depression.

Each chapter works well independently. The wedding reception at first appears to be nothing more than a beautifully shot melodrama, but is in actual fact quite a nuanced and subtle study of depression and modern-day malaise. Dunst’s performance was a true revelation to me, as I personally haven’t seen her given free roam in a challenging role before. The second chapter is a simpler, more tightly contained story. Charlotte Gainsbourg’s performance is on par with Kirsten Dunst’s, as she slowly unravels in the face of potential world destruction. Like Justine in the first chapter, Claire’s mental state is only antagonised by those around her – scientifically-minded husband (Kiefer Sutherland) and walking zombie depressive sister – who fail, or refuse, to understand her fear. Though each half is accomplished in itself, the film taken as a whole becomes more than the sum of its parts.

The prosaic pacing had me wondering, at points, if it was all really necessary, or if the director had simply given himself over to self-indulgence. Lars Von Trier is not one to shy away from controversy or unconventionality, and is not afraid to explore some plot threads which are ultimately left dangling – a terribly faux pas in Hollywood film but strangely intriguing when done correctly, as it is here. The whole thing probably could have been more concise but I have to admit that after the screening, and for the days since, I have been thinking about the film, which isn’t something I can often say. I feel like I haven’t fully processed it yet, and as such am slightly ill-equipped to say anything definite about it. It is a ponderous, beautiful film, which won’t be to everyone’s tastes. There are some true flashes of brilliance, though, in the performances and in the epic, intense imagery, which is more aesthetically than emotionally pleasing, but incredible to behold all the same. It is beautiful and thoughtful and I liked it. I just haven’t decided how much yet.

When I just say what I really thought…

Damn, Kirsten Dunst has some nice boobs.