Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps
Director:
Oliver Stone
Cast:
Michael Douglas, Shia LaBeouf, Carey
Mulligan, Josh Brolin, Frank Langella, Susan Sarandon, Eli Wallach, Austin
Pendelton, Charlie Sheen Running Time: 2hrs. 20mins
Throughout its two-hour-and-20
minute
running time, Oliver Stone’s sequel to his 1987 financial thriller is
relentless, with Josh Brolin, moving on from his previous Stone-helmed
performance as George Bush in W., into the role of Bretton James, a
heartless, cigar-chomping capitalist villain.
Michael Douglas returns
as Gordon Gekko,
now released from an over-extended sojourn in prison to seek reconciliation
with his daughter, Winnie (Carey Mulligan). Winnie’s fiancé, Jake (Shia
LaBeouf), a Wall Street investor who wants to finance green technology, thinks
Gekko can help him out. Then comes the 2008 crash, outlined across the
Manhattan skyline in a downward-tracking graph, which becomes the beating heart
of the plot. Will Jake lose his soul or his job? Will he earn revenge for the
suicide of his mentor (Frank Langella)? Will Gekko make a comeback? Has he
really changed? Is greed, indeed, still as good?
Finally, will every conversation
consist of
exposition, an exercise in one-upmanship or a deal being pitched? Banter never
sleeps, as each character does a fair simulation of the mystifying buzz of
investment jargon but can’t disguise logical plot holes big enough to drive an
armoured truck through..
Some of the aphoristic dialogue
works
superbly however. (“You’re the Ninja generation – no income, no jobs, no
assets.”). But too often, the dialogue slips into glib and derivative, and not
in the financial sense of the word. We know Gekko is a thief, but it’s strange
to hear the character’s best bon mots have been previously used more or less
verbatim. Uncredited sources include Adlai Stevenson (“If you promise to stop
telling lies about me, I’ll stop telling the truth about you”), Mae West
(“Whenever I have to choose between two evils, I always like to try the one I
haven’t tried before”) and Rita Mae Brown (“Insanity is doing the same thing
over and over again but expecting different results”).
Also distracting is the
coy use of cameos:
Charlie Sheen, co-star of the original Wall Street, pops up at a party to say
hi. The director himself finds a way into a couple of scenes. And Vanity Fair
editor Graydon Carter has a walk-on. Appearances by old-timers Langella, Sylvia
Miles (as a real-estate agent) and Eli Wallach leave the misleading impression
that Wall Street might be plagued more by senescence than avarice.
For the most part though,
the film is a
welcome return show for Douglas, who adds some shades of vulnerability to his
familiar, sleazily charming character. The ambiguity of LaBeouf’s character is
more troubling, feeling inconsistent rather than intentional, while Mulligan is
used sparingly but breaks down and cries really well. Susan Sarandon, as Jake’s
free-spending mother, and even Brolin are essentially cartoons. As a film about
a sinner trying to right his wrongs (or is he?) with his estranged daughter,
while acknowledging his pain - ''Money Never Sleeps'' succeeds brilliantly.
Ultimately, this is Michael
Douglas's show
and though the claws are retracted, he again reminds us why the Academy voted
Gordon Gekko their Man of 1988.
Director:
Rodrigo Cortés
Writer: Chris Sparling
Cast: Ryan Reynolds, Robert Paterson, José Luis García-Pérez, Stephen Tobolowsky,
Samantha Mathis, Warner Loughlin, Erik Palladino, Ivana Miño
Running time: 1hr 40mins
Buried opens in an extended
period of complete darkness and silence. A minute or two passes
before we hear breathing, and another before Paul Conroy (Ryan Reynolds), an
American contractor working in Iraq as a truck driver in 2006 (during one of
the worst periods of the U.S.-led occupation), realises he has awakened in a
small, confined space and even longer to realise he’s been kidnapped and buried
in a coffin. His
kidnappers, presumably Iraqis, have left him with a lighter, a mobile phone,
several glow sticks, a knife, an alcohol-filled flask, and 90 minutes of air
(the not-coincidental running time for Buried) their intentions unknown.
Phone in hand, Paul attempts
to contact someone, anyone who
can help, calling the US emergency number 911, his wife, Linda (voiced by
Samantha Mathis) back in the America (he gets her voicemail), an employer
representative, Alan Davenport (Stephen Tobolowsky), a U.S. State Department
rep (Chris William Martin)., and finally, a British officer in charge of
search-and-rescue in Iraq, Dan Brenner (Robert Paterson). Finding Conroy’s
location proves to be more
difficult than expected. A call to Conroy’s
mobile finally reveals why he was kidnapped: he’s
being held for ransom. A man identifying himself as Jabir (Jose
Luis Garcea Perez)
asks for five million dollars in exchange for Conroy’s freedom. Dwindling air
supply and a dying phone
battery naturally lead to an increasing sense of desperation and hopelessness
for Conroy and his seemingly inescapable predicament.
Utterly persuasive, completely
convincing, totally
compelling, Reynolds gives the kind of bravura performance that, under
different circumstances (i.e., a non-genre film), would easily nab him an Oscar
nomination for Best Actor, Sparling’s
intense script calls on Reynolds to show off his dramatic range, from
befuddlement to fear, to anguish and despair (and maybe even hope), all while
the camera mercilessly hovers inches away from Reynolds’ face. Superficially, the
tight close-ups might seem
non- or un-cinematic, but they are
not. The larger the close-up, the longer it’s
sustained, the stronger the audience identification with the character, an
identification that would be vastly diminished if experienced non-theatrically
as eventually it will when it’s grabbed for blu-ray/dvd.
Cortes shot
Buried in only 17 days in Spain, limiting himself to tight close-ups and medium
shots and only a handful of angles. Cortes
doesn’t break away for
exterior shots, flashbacks, or character reactions. We’re in the coffin with Conroy
from the beginning of the
film all the way through the end and his (potential) rescue. And while he could
have shown Conroy pre-attack and show the attack itself at the beginning of the
film, he doesn’t, an extremely
smart move, smarter because he was following Sparling’s screenplay and not the
producers’ wishes which indeed wanted Cortes
and Sparling to ‘open up’ Buried
with exterior shots, flashbacks, and additional characters.
There is a
political context and subtext too. Sparling wanted to combine a single-setting
premise, perfect for a low-budget indie film, with contemporary politics. He
found his story when he came across reports of U.S. non-mercenary contractors
being kidnapped by Iraqi militants and held for ransom. Sparling’s
sympathies are undoubtedly with
contractors who’ve risked life
and limb for economic (non-political) reasons, but he also includes pointed
criticisms of U.S. foreign policy in Iraq (i.e., hubristic neglect of Iraqi
suffering) as context for the kidnappers’
actions. Whether you agree or not with that criticism, Sparling and Cortes do not allow politics get in the
way of telling a highly effective, exceptionally efficient suspense-thriller,
one you should not miss experiencing in a cinema.
Written and Directed by Ben Affleck
Cast: Ben Affleck, Jeremy Renner, Slaine,
Owen Burke, Jon
Hamm, Rebecca Hall, Blake Lively, Pete Postlethwaite, Chris Cooper
Running time:
2hrs 5mins
With the release of “Gone Baby Gone” in 2008, Ben Affleck climbed from
being simply a modestly agreeable actor with a battered professional reputation
to an unexpectedly elegant filmmaker, interested in dramatic dark spaces and
disturbing questions of morality, stewing in the juices of suburban Boston.
“The Town” finds Affleck in a more mainstream mood, mounting a sturdy crime
thriller that spotlights the turmoil churning within a soulful, sombre crook.
Almost impossibly, Affleck generates a spellbinding pulse to the proceedings,
constructing a magnificently exhaustive suspense piece that effectively mines
the anxiety of criminal behaviour with the bleak confines of domestic needs.
With his partners in tow, Doug MacRay (Ben Affleck) leads a
troubled life, successfully pulling off a string of bank and armoured van
robberies around the criminal hot spot of the erstwhile town itself -
Charleston. When one of the heists goes slightly askew, Doug’s hothead partner James (Jeremy
Renner) takes bank manager Claire (the ever-excellent Rebecca Hall) hostage,
soon releasing her once the coast is clear. Feeling guilt and attraction for
the frightened woman, Doug attempts to develop a relationship with Claire,
partially as a way to keep tabs on her, as F.B.I. forces, led by Frawley (John
Hamm), move in to investigate. Falling in love, Doug considers a better life
with Claire, but Charleston, with all of its insidious secrets and unfinished
business, isn’t quite ready to
let him go.
Gone Baby Gone was a more insular, reflective piece of
thriller cinema, permitting Affleck an opportunity to build as a filmmaker
without the crushing weight of a bloated budget or media expectations to
distract from the business at hand. The Town however, moves
Affleck a considerable distance up the industry ladder, as the film assumes a more commercial batting
stance, exploring a blistered blue-collar community of broken dreams and
criminal fortitude, with the primary goal of the picture grounded in more
customary pieces of excitement. These include numerous shoot-outs, car chases,
explosions, and tough guy communication. However, The Town is not just a
formula crime thriller, instead it’s an outstanding work, moulded into
something a great deal more substantial in Affleck’s capable hands.
Special attention is paid to the brooding neighbourhood of
Charleston. Employing his knowledge of the area, Affleck instills The Town with
local customs and heated attitudes, making the whole film feel terrifically
alert and lived-in. There’s an
ominous quality that permeates the frame, emerging from an awareness of the
surroundings, with Affleck eschewing glossy locations to turn his Massachusetts
backyard into a claustrophobic war zone, urging Doug to reconsider his vocation
once the serenity of Claire enters his life. The Town holds to that tightly, keeping the area’s personality alive through
vivid
locations and characterisations, with dialogue often tearing into
incomprehensible vernacular befitting this rough criminal brotherhood,
underlining the uneasy bond between Doug and James.
While neatly arranged with hostile acts of robbery (the boys
wear ghoulish disguises and attack with heavy weaponry to add a nightmarish
dimension to the sequences) and feverish law enforcement intervention (Hamm is
highly effective as the government bloodhound), The Town slows down to survey
the emotional disturbance at hand. Affleck himself is marvellous with his
actors, permitting elements of tentative endearment and threat to create havoc
in Doug’s once deceptively
simple life of crime. It’s a
measured and quite masterly
helming job that makes the most of the top ensemble, with Affleck the director
supporting Affleck the actor with a horde of expressive faces, creating a
glorious effect for the lead character.
The Town saves the big bang for the finale, where Doug and
the gang are ordered to rob the Cathedral of Boston, complicating the crook’s life to a point of implosion. It’s a breathtaking, rattling closing
sequence, littered with spent bullet casings and bodies, concluding the picture
with a dynamite show of force, barrelling through the beating heart of the
city.
The Town is a menacing, gripping triumph from Ben Affleck,
who finds a precise tone between introspection and extermination to launch a
brutal tale of abortive destiny. It’s
a turbulent story explored with a steady hand, launching Affleck to the upper
echelon of American filmmaking talent.
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