On the Writer and Ruby Sparks

Is writing the least glamorous glamorous job that one can hold? You may walk red carpets, mingle with celebrities, travel round the world and earn money to make life a comfortable experience, but in many cases remain anonymous. Without your work the finished product doesn’t exist, yet once it does and it is out there, an audience unfamiliar and uninterested unconsciously casts you aside with your methods, as do a press concerned only with the ‘names’ of entertainment.

Ruby Sparks concerns itself with a rare creature, the novelist who has achieved recognisable fame.  Fame he doesn’t necessarily crave. Yet, he is still portrayed as we expect writers to be portrayed; an indoors type, lonely, bookish (obviously) and out of place in a gym. Despite this stereotypical presentation, Ruby Sparks is mostly about writing, the pleasures, the difficulties and the dreams of writers. When we meet the film’s protagonist he is writing using a typewriter, despite this being the 21^st Century; he is anachronistic. Not just in his equipment, but also in his approach to love, believing in the magic of romance (a magic that becomes literal).

As the film progresses, his love of writing and of what his writing manifests reveals its true nature, its difficulties and complications. He writes less and when he does it is not for love of writing, but for a need to control his writing from spiralling out of his control. By the end of the film, he has come to learn that the magic of writing and of love does not exist in a romantic ideal somewhere located in the past, but exists in the present where it requires work and constant attention. He swaps his typewriter for a MacBook Pro and writes his next great novel. 

On Safe Comedy with Liberal Arts

It’s easy to think that a young, hipster looking writer/director like Josh Radnor would, when tackling the romantic comedy genre, produce something off beat or indy-esque. You would not be at fault for thinking this; he stars in a popular E4 comedy, How I Met Your Mother (2005 -) and his first film as writer/director was perfectly titled to connote eccentric cinematic sensibilities, Happythankyoumoreplease (2010). His new film, which he wrote, directed and stars in is Liberal Arts and tells the story of a graduate of a top university finding himself, twenty years later, back on campus and falling for a freshman.

However, Liberal Arts is, beneath the liberal, arty title, a very traditional romantic comedy. There is the mismatched romantic pairing, the wiser, foreshadowing older mentor, the off beat side-kick and a style of comedy which falls very much under the family friendly, don’t offend the elderly banner.

All of this feels very nice and fresh within the continuing onslaught of comedy inspired by the Judd Apatow lewd, bromance genre. Liberal Arts is funny and is touching and is able to reach out to a wide audience and make itself relevant and relatable. The performances, like the direction aren’t flashy, but display the restraint of a director confident of his vision. A film that is memorable for being unremarkable. 

On Star Power with The Campaign

It is a fair observation that without the comedic acting talents of Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis, The Campaign would not be a success. It may not even be a film. The entire script is written around the talents of the actors and what they have shown, time and again, they can bring to a film. Both are talented dramatic actors that bring these talents to dramatic comedy.

The result is a very funny film that has no significant secondary characters and a story that is wafer thin. Yet when Ferrell and Galifianakis are on screen The Campaign is entertaining. 

On a little bit Noir with Looper

It’s a little bit Blade Runner (1982), a little bit The Terminator (1984) and a lot noir, but entirely original. Looper is the latest film from writer, director Rian Johnson. Johnson has created a futuristic, time travelling story and in the vein of Inception (2010), has told a complex narrative with impressive ease. Yet, more than science fiction, Looper is a neo noir. A film that takes the conventions of the most uncertain genre, film noir, and updates them.

Like film noir, Looper focuses on a down and out anti-hero. A drug addict and a man stuck in a dead end job, literally. This man tells us his story in flashback surrounded by a shadowy, dirty, urban environment and with a sense of pessimism. All conventions of film noirs.

The differences come in the representation of the film noir staple, the femme fatale and this is not unusual for neo noirs. In classic film noirs like Double Indemnity (1944) and Detour (1945) the femme fatale is manipulative and dangerous, often knowingly leading the anti-hero to his end. Here and in other neo noirs, like Drive (2011) and The Dark Knight (2008), the main female character is dangerous, but in different ways. Looper’s protagonist is lead to his end by the involvement with a woman, but she is not bad, she does not lead him to his end, he takes the decision himself. Just like Drive’s Driver was led to his end by attachment with the female neighbour, she would have preferred his company; he chooses his absence or death.  

There seems to be some key to successful and creative films that attach themselves to noir, as Looper, like those films mentioned above, is fantastic. It has the potential to be both a financial success and a critical success. 

On Jesse James Comparisons with Killing Them Softly

In 2007 Andrew Dominik released The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, a masterpiece of contemporary cinema. Jesse James was a measured, contemplative, beautiful film that was always going to be difficult to follow up. Five years on Dominik releases his third feature as writer, director, Killing Them Softly, which reunites him with Jesse James actor, Brad Pitt.

Killing Them Softly is a perfect choice as a follow up to Jesse James. It is a contemporary piece, much shorter and blackly comic, yet the principal characters of both films share similarities, making Dominik something of an auteur. Dominik and Pitt’s interpretation of the American civil war outlaw/hero Jesse James was as a man who felt betrayed by his country. A man who was increasingly isolated by a changing America and searched for and on occasion found his identity in violence. Specifically what he saw as retributory violence.  Pitt’s character in Killing Them Softly Jackie Coogan is a gangster, specifically a hit man, brought into clear up a difficult situation. As the entire film is an allegory for the depressed economic state of America, Coogan’s frustrations in carrying out his job can be read as frustrations with American economic policy. Like Jesse James, Coogan sees himself as the only sane man in a corrupt system, a man who sees his own isolation as those around him struggle to adapt and a man to whom violence is an answer and an identity.

The politics may not be subtly intertwined, but there is great humour created from comparing organised crime to struggling businesses in a depressed America. And Coogan is relatable because his actions come from a place of pragmatism, when the powers that be (in this instance George W. Bush) are making decisions with apparently no thought.

The performances are terrific and as expected, Dominik has created a beautiful aesthetic from the glum settings with a script that may not be subtle, but puts fantastic dialogue into his characters’ mouths. This may be a new genre, the anti-Capitalist gangster film.

On Lawless

Lawless first tells us it is based on a true story. Writer Nick Cave has however clarified this further by saying his screenplay is actually based on a true myth, which is a convenient way of avoiding historical criticism. What we get from Lawless is a probation era story of three brothers running a bootlegging operation in rural America. The film is well acted and violent enough to make the period piece uncomfortably real, which is a positive. The narrative however feels too busy and therefore the film doesn’t flow in the same way that Michael Mann’s Public Enemies (2009) did, a film that Lawless share many similarities with. Cave’s screenplay, or what parts of it made it to the screen, don’t dedicate enough time to certain characters, which results in detachment from an audience perspective. So, instead of becoming involved, emotionally and intellectually, with the brothers’ story, we instead find ourselves entertained passengers. There is much to admire in Lawless, but little to remember.  

On Breaking the Rules with Anna Karenina

It should come as no surprise that Joe Wright’s Anna Karenina is more than just your average period drama. Wright’s adaptation of Atonement (2007) had a savage edge that shocked and gave the film a vividly contemporary feel. The Soloist (2009) and Hanna (2011) were both well constructed genre pieces that benefitted from Wright’s creative camera.

Throughout his relatively short career as a director, Wright has quickly learnt all the rules and now he knows them, with Anna Karenina he breaks them. Wright takes creative film making to another level. This film is best described as a mixture of film, opera and dance. The way Wright intertwines sets and scenery using characters and props feels utterly unique in contemporary, mainstream cinema. Characters move as if dancing. Twirling in and out of each other’s space and in and out of sets that frequently overlap in fascinating ways.

This film is an absolute treat on the eyes, assuming the audience posses the right level of film fluency. As after all, film is a language and to fully appreciate Anna Karenina, you need a high degree of fluency. This adaptation is not for everyone and will anger some audience members who will find its treatment of Tolstoy’s text sacrilegious.

As with Atonement, Wright has made a period film (19^th Century Russia), complete with period costumes and props feel incredibly contemporary. The heavy plot flows unpredictably between different narrative threads and the actors all play their roles with a sense of tradition, yet modernity. Jude Law especially is fantastic as Alexei Karenin.

Where Anna Karenina falls down is in the emotional resonance that is lost amongst the magnificent work done by Wright and his team. As engaging as the film is, the affair between Anna and Count Vronsky never feels as dangerous as it should and it is hard to become emotional invested in their lives. Even at the end, when sacrifices are made and the tragedy of the story is revealed, there is still more to enjoy about the art of the film making rather than the lives of the characters. This is a shame. If Anna Karenina packed an emotional punch to match the artistry, this would be a breathtaking film.