TALKIN' THE TALK
Hey, back again. It's been a busy time of the year for me with the new job and the holidays, but my New Year's resolution is to see and write about a lot more films. On to the review!
Saw Walk the Line with Viv a few weeks ago in Evanston.
Apparently, this is the story of Johnny Cash's life: He had a mean old Daddy whom he could never please, especially after a tragic incident involving the death of his older brother. Then, years later he joined the Air Force where he spent his time messing around with a guitar. This was thoughtful of him, as he was going to become a country music star in the future. Then he came home to the U.S. and married his high school sweetheart who turned out to be the most godawful, ballbreaking shrew that ever lived. He messed around with guitar some more and then auditioned for Sam Phillips of Sun Records. Sam liked what he heard and soon Johnny was on the road with Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis. (Hey, they're famous! You've heard of them!) More importantly, Johnny was on the road with June Carter of the singing Carter family. Johnny was sweet on June, but they were both married and she didn't much care for him anyway, with his weird, uncouth ways.
Well, Johnny started to make it big, but he wasn't very happy because his sourpuss wife still took every chance she could to kick him in the nads. So, he started doing drugs, which, shockingly, only caused his life to unravel that much more quickly. His wife left him and took the kids, wouldn't you know. It gets to the point where you're thinking, "If only something could save Johnny, you know, like the love of a good woman." Well, thankfully, there is a good woman that can save Johnny, June Carter! She seems to hang around in the background of Johnny's life a lot, so she's there to help him straighten himself out. She and her parents even come over to Johnny's place for Thanksgiving and Johnny finally confronts his Scrooge-like father. Then Johnny and June go play a concert at Folsom prison because Johnny's felt like a prisoner his whole life. There's even a saw at the prison just like the one that killed his brother! The Circle of Life! After Johnny's prison liberation, he proposes to June at a concert. She finally says yes and the end-titles tell us that they lived happily ever after.
I wish that I could say that I was exaggerating the small-mindedness of the screenplay for Walk the Line, but, alas, I'm not. It really was
that schematic and formulaic. I can't quite understand why anyone would want to be involved ina project like this: taking the life and work of one of America's greatest popular musicians and reducing it to the stuff of a bad T.V. movie of the week.
So many of the characters feel like cardboard cut-outs. The stern, distant father who only serves to provide a CONFLICT in Johnny's life. The misery-inducing first wife who would even convince the Pope of the necessity of divorce. The cameos by Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Waylon Jennings whose only purpose seems to be to make the viewer feel good about him or herself for recognizing them.
There are some good things about Walk the Line, the things that Hollywood does well now. The production deign and the actors. The hair, the clothes, and the sets all look period perfect, especially the scenes in and around 50s and 60s Vegas.
The actors are good too, expecially Joaquin Phoenix. He does a good job of fleshing out the script's thin characterization of Johnny Cash, so well indeed that you're almost tempted to buy its inanities. His brooding, tortured Cash suggests someone much more complicated than the one we see in the film, it's as if the film-makers forgot to provide him with the necessary lines to express himself, which, I suppose, they did. The overall effect of Phoenix's performance is a little jarring; it's as if a character from a Dostoevsky novel has wandered into a soap opera.
DESTINATION: NOWHERE
Saw Antonioni’s The Passenger at the Music Box on Thanksgiving night with Vivian and Amy, her partner in academic skullduggery.
Plot: Jack Nicholson plays David Locke, a British-born, American-raised journalist. As the film opens, Locke is in an un-named African country, to cover some sort of insurgency or civil war. We see him attempt to find some information about the situation by driving out into a mountianous, desert area, presumably to locate some rebels, before he skulks back to his hotel in frustration. After a shower, Locke discovers that, Robertson, the man in the room next to him, has died. As a tape recording of a conversation with Robertson plays in the background, and as we see flashbacks of the dead man from Locke's point of view, Locke fixes his own passport photo to Robertson’s. He then tells the unwitting hotel employees that Mr. Locke has died.
After returning to England, Locke casually decides to live Robertson’s life. He flies to Frankfurt to keep one of the dead man's appointments. In a meeting there with two somewhat sinister men, Locke discovers that Robertson is an arms dealer. This doesn’t seem to trouble him very much, as he continues to use Robertson’s identity, raising the issue that locke might be looking for trouble. Locke eventually winds up in Barcelona, striking up a relationship with an aimless young woman, played by Maria Schneider.
I really enjoyed The Passenger. I've always been a sucker for film-makers that emphaize character and mood over plot, and Antonioni is certainly that style's master.
It was also amazing to see a young, slim Jack Nicholoson that refrained from hamming it up like the "Jack" we all know now. In The Passenger, Nicholosn is a sharp as a razor. He plays Locke with a self-hatred that's so intense it's hard to watch. Maria Schneider was a revelation too. Like many, I'd only seen her in Las Tango in Paris, where, at best, I thought her inadequacy as an actress matched up well with the character of the confused young woman that she played. Here, she's amazing. She plays her character with such calm and assuredness, that she seems one of those people that has known and seen more than us. She seems older and wiser than Nicholson, making his character's ultimate decision that much more plausible.
And speaking of that crucial decision, I apologize to all two of you who read this blog, but I’m going to cut to the chase and talk about the ending of the film.
Since Locke’s wife, the arms buyers, and the Spanish police are all after him, Locke and the woman go on the lam in Spain, moving from seedy hotel to seedy hotel. Finally, the woman convinces Locke that he shouldn’t hide from his pursuers anymore. Locke agrees, knowing that the arms buyers will ultimately find him. He then waits in his hotel room.
In one of those extraordinary Antonioni shots, the camera slowly moves from one side of Locke’s hotel room toward the window. The camera stops at the window, and for about five minutes, focuses on the action in the hotel’s courtyard. We see various passers-by, then the woman, (walking around purposelessly,) and finally a man that looks like he might have been one of the arms buyers. We see him go toward the hotel entrance. The camera stays at the window, looking out, while we hear a brief, very muffled struggle in Locke’s room. Then Locke’s wife shows up and she, the woman, and the hotel staff discover Locke’s dead body.
Here’s what I want to know about the ending: Does the woman know that she is helping Locke on his way to death? I think that she has to understand that when she tells him to commit to being Robertson that there’s a lot of danger involved with that choice. Or does she not understand? Does she still really have no idea what it means for Locke to be come Robertson? Forgetting the woman for a second, I think the important thing is that Locke understands what it means for him to choose to keep Robertson's appointment. He knows it means his death. But whether his decision to choose death is a good or bad thing remains an unanswered question.