Julie Taymor's spectacular "Across the Universe" is a musical set in the tumultuous 60s to the music of the Beatles. It is a fantastical romp through a time that often has been viewed through rose colored glasses, but here is beautiful and frightening and confusing and wild. Ms. Taymor's previous projects include The Lion King on Broadway (well-known for its use of large puppets that seem to dance above the people who dance while operating them), Titus (a cross between Baz Luhrmann and David Lynch making an obscure Shakespeare play) and the underrated Frida (with a fabulously unpretty Salma Hayek and stand out cameo by Ashley Judd). All share the same fantastical approach to storytelling that Across the Universe epitomizes — I'm reminded of Baz Luhrmann (again) and Alan Parker.
Julie Taymor and her musical producers reimagine familiar songs to give us a new way of hearing them. The idea is that the characters think and feel in songs by the Beatles organically — the Beatles don't seem to exist in the movie. There are plenty of examples in Universe of musical revelation, but the song "Something" when sung by Jude (Jim Sturgess) to a sleeping Lucy (Evan Rachel Wood) becomes an intimate soliloquy of his love for her. Despite already being a love song Sturgess' inflection changed the way I heard it. Ms. Taymor also uses terrific visual effects like animation, masks and puppets and 60s-era film effects to help her story along. This has the effect of making each musical vignette seem a little like a music video, but rather than derail the story they add up to the conclusion. One of the most effective and relevant vignettes is the beautifully choreographed Army draft office scene — identical Army sergeants sing "I Want You" to draftees in their briefs while they undergo the standard testing. "I Want You" is a 2 part song, notice the relevance of "She's So Heavy" to today's failing idea of nation-building.
In addition to honoring the writing of the Beatles, Universe is a love song for New York City. It's an homage in its details of New York. Katz's Delicatessen, the decaying docks, the iconic arch in Washington Square, the Village, the eclecticism, the loft and walk-ups, the brownstones. The New York that Taymor is reprising is the one of Bob Dylan and NYU and not — happily — the hippie mecca of Hair. Jude, an illegal alien, becomes nothing less than a graphic designer with home studio for painting on the side. New York was a hot bed of design in the 60s as it has been ever since. War protesters wear army jackets and are more quick to radicalize, full of leftist ideologies, than those seen in many other retrospectives. Much more New York than Left Coast. It's always wonderful to see how a filmmaker treats the location of the story. Woody Allen, Whit Stillman and PT Anderson are famous for it in their use of New York and California. New York is just another character and it sings every song in duet with the flesh and blood actors on screen. Even though we see other locations in the film, notably Liverpool, all life is drawn to NY and ends up there.
A final note: there are 2 cameos in the film that are worth noting. Bono and Eddie Izzard play competing leaders of communal groups. They make for a wonderful midpoint in the story and each bring his own strengths to the performances. Don't miss Joe Cocker and Salma Hayek in their brief cameos.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Friday, May 9, 2008
Juno: The Big Blue Slurpee Edition
I finally saw Juno. I want to cover a few things that I found remarkable — the slang, the adoptive parents and the decision to have the baby. Since I tend to see movies well after they've made it to DVD, I'm not really reviewing them. This is my analysis, what I got out of the film, so I'm going to write about the occasional ending or surprise plot element.
Diablo Cody got a lot of flack from the blogosphere for her slang-filled script. Folks felt that the characters and, by extension, the screenwriter were smarter than they were. I was prepared for word associations that sounded clever, but fell flat or were flatly indecipherable. I thought the dialog was sparkling and the only use of slang was between Juno and her best friend and the occasional slang when around adults. Stepping back to look at the big picture, Juno (the movie) is more modern fairy tale than it is realistic. That said it's great that Juno uses a completely unreal slanguage — some of it real but much of it made up I imagine. I was reminded of A Clockwork Orange with its slavic-heavy slang that required context for a full understanding. I certainly wish that I had had such a robust slanguage when I was 16, though I'm surely better off for only having used the most common phrasology. In any case, the presence of this second language enhanced the layers of Juno's character. One layer, perhaps the one most visible, is the kid who speaks a made up language to differentiate from the adults around her. A second layer is the kid who can still use proper English because she knows she's only 16, but wants to identify with the adults around her. I think a third is the kid who is speechless, despite her motormouth, because of the suddenly adult challenge of carrying and delivering a child — one that will belong to someone else. I think the slang is an integral part of this beautiful film.
Another integral part of Juno, one that I didn't fully realize would be so well defined, is that of the adoptive parents, Mark and Vanessa Loring. I haven't endured the challenge and the heartbreak of trying and trying and failing to conceive. I do, however, know those who have. For the families that are in tact in the end, after all the trying — over some years — and the IVF and the adoption planning and waiting hopefully they are stronger. These days many people wait until later in life to start their families. That wait can be a fight against both the biological clock and the biological possibility of conceiving — the older the parents, the harder it is to get pregnant. One other difficulty can be that while the prospective mom is physically committed to the lengthy and stressful process, the dad — who can only be a supporter, a cheerleader — can begin to resent the eventual responsibility. That's quite a burden. Well, that burden is evident in the writing and portrayal of the Lorings. Mark is happyish at what he does, but he's a prisoner in his own home — albeit a beautiful one. His cherished mementos of other, happier times are put away in their "own room" or packed away in the basement. The result is a house that is orderly and the product of Vanessa — whether it contains any real mementos for her isn't covered. She is a hard worker who doesn't understand what's happened to her husband. They both talk about the baby, but he's set in the background using body language that suggests he doesn't want it. They've endured the excruciating attempts at conceiving and adopting from a surrogate only to meet failure again and again. The clincher, after much drama and a twist, comes at the end. Spoiler: Vanessa goes to meet her new son and she is like ice — a blend of fear and incredulity that this is her baby, that she is finally a mother — but she melts at the newborn's touch. The transformation to mother is completed by Juno's stepmother admiring presence in the door of the nursery — she's technically the grandmother after all. All of Vanessa's suffering at failing to become a mother is replaced by the beauty of her baby boy.
That leads me to Juno's decision to have the baby in the first place. I've read that folks interpreted carrying the baby as an anti-choice message, somewhat supported by Juno's quick escape from a Planned Parenthood-like clinic, though I think it was mostly the MSM. Other folks were offended by the subject matter. I'm more interested in this notion that the script was somehow anti-choice. It wasn't. First of all, dramatically and comedically the story is about a girl who decides to carry a baby to term and to find a couple to adopt it. Whatever political messaging there might be, the story can't include an abortion. In any case, Choice, with a capital "C", is about choice not automatically having an abortion. Certainly, Juno's first decision is to end the pregnancy, though her girlfriend is too matter of fact and the father of the baby is too bewildered and still a boy to know how to comfort her. His reaction moves almost imperceptibly from stun to relief, probably still reeling from the hormonal wackiness of having had sex with Juno in the first place. While at the clinic, where the receptionist is psychotic and overly attentive yet somehow dismissive, the atmosphere is crude and discomforting. This probably owes more to a typical lack of funding and heavy community work probably than to a disregard for the comfort of the patients. Anyway, with no support apparatus Juno freaks and bolts. Choice is paramount, but some choices just cannot be casually made when you're a 16 year old all alone. In the following parent sit-down scene she tells the truth about her pregnancy then correctly deduces that her stepmother prefers that she keep the baby with a quick lie about considering an abortion. Her support was still her own family, no matter how grown up she might have felt, and their rules and aspirations drove her decisionmaking. Whatever the political motive, the choice to keep the baby makes the story.
Lastly, I want to mention how exciting it is that alongside new, unknown directors there is a new generation of Hollywood directors born of the last generation: Sofia Copolla, Jake Kasdan and, in this case, Jason Reitman (I'm sure there are others, but these are off the top of head). Their vision is fresh, informed by their illustrious parents yet full of unique viewpoints. They appreciate the skill of a good photographer, they can make the most out of a script and they can elicit performances out of their actors that receive the highest regard. Think Bill Murray's turn in Lost in Translation or John C. Reilly in Walk Hard or Ellen Page — and Michael Cera, Allison Janney, J.K. Simmons, Jason Bateman or Jennifer Garner for that matter — in Juno. Bravo!
Diablo Cody got a lot of flack from the blogosphere for her slang-filled script. Folks felt that the characters and, by extension, the screenwriter were smarter than they were. I was prepared for word associations that sounded clever, but fell flat or were flatly indecipherable. I thought the dialog was sparkling and the only use of slang was between Juno and her best friend and the occasional slang when around adults. Stepping back to look at the big picture, Juno (the movie) is more modern fairy tale than it is realistic. That said it's great that Juno uses a completely unreal slanguage — some of it real but much of it made up I imagine. I was reminded of A Clockwork Orange with its slavic-heavy slang that required context for a full understanding. I certainly wish that I had had such a robust slanguage when I was 16, though I'm surely better off for only having used the most common phrasology. In any case, the presence of this second language enhanced the layers of Juno's character. One layer, perhaps the one most visible, is the kid who speaks a made up language to differentiate from the adults around her. A second layer is the kid who can still use proper English because she knows she's only 16, but wants to identify with the adults around her. I think a third is the kid who is speechless, despite her motormouth, because of the suddenly adult challenge of carrying and delivering a child — one that will belong to someone else. I think the slang is an integral part of this beautiful film.
Another integral part of Juno, one that I didn't fully realize would be so well defined, is that of the adoptive parents, Mark and Vanessa Loring. I haven't endured the challenge and the heartbreak of trying and trying and failing to conceive. I do, however, know those who have. For the families that are in tact in the end, after all the trying — over some years — and the IVF and the adoption planning and waiting hopefully they are stronger. These days many people wait until later in life to start their families. That wait can be a fight against both the biological clock and the biological possibility of conceiving — the older the parents, the harder it is to get pregnant. One other difficulty can be that while the prospective mom is physically committed to the lengthy and stressful process, the dad — who can only be a supporter, a cheerleader — can begin to resent the eventual responsibility. That's quite a burden. Well, that burden is evident in the writing and portrayal of the Lorings. Mark is happyish at what he does, but he's a prisoner in his own home — albeit a beautiful one. His cherished mementos of other, happier times are put away in their "own room" or packed away in the basement. The result is a house that is orderly and the product of Vanessa — whether it contains any real mementos for her isn't covered. She is a hard worker who doesn't understand what's happened to her husband. They both talk about the baby, but he's set in the background using body language that suggests he doesn't want it. They've endured the excruciating attempts at conceiving and adopting from a surrogate only to meet failure again and again. The clincher, after much drama and a twist, comes at the end. Spoiler: Vanessa goes to meet her new son and she is like ice — a blend of fear and incredulity that this is her baby, that she is finally a mother — but she melts at the newborn's touch. The transformation to mother is completed by Juno's stepmother admiring presence in the door of the nursery — she's technically the grandmother after all. All of Vanessa's suffering at failing to become a mother is replaced by the beauty of her baby boy.
That leads me to Juno's decision to have the baby in the first place. I've read that folks interpreted carrying the baby as an anti-choice message, somewhat supported by Juno's quick escape from a Planned Parenthood-like clinic, though I think it was mostly the MSM. Other folks were offended by the subject matter. I'm more interested in this notion that the script was somehow anti-choice. It wasn't. First of all, dramatically and comedically the story is about a girl who decides to carry a baby to term and to find a couple to adopt it. Whatever political messaging there might be, the story can't include an abortion. In any case, Choice, with a capital "C", is about choice not automatically having an abortion. Certainly, Juno's first decision is to end the pregnancy, though her girlfriend is too matter of fact and the father of the baby is too bewildered and still a boy to know how to comfort her. His reaction moves almost imperceptibly from stun to relief, probably still reeling from the hormonal wackiness of having had sex with Juno in the first place. While at the clinic, where the receptionist is psychotic and overly attentive yet somehow dismissive, the atmosphere is crude and discomforting. This probably owes more to a typical lack of funding and heavy community work probably than to a disregard for the comfort of the patients. Anyway, with no support apparatus Juno freaks and bolts. Choice is paramount, but some choices just cannot be casually made when you're a 16 year old all alone. In the following parent sit-down scene she tells the truth about her pregnancy then correctly deduces that her stepmother prefers that she keep the baby with a quick lie about considering an abortion. Her support was still her own family, no matter how grown up she might have felt, and their rules and aspirations drove her decisionmaking. Whatever the political motive, the choice to keep the baby makes the story.
Lastly, I want to mention how exciting it is that alongside new, unknown directors there is a new generation of Hollywood directors born of the last generation: Sofia Copolla, Jake Kasdan and, in this case, Jason Reitman (I'm sure there are others, but these are off the top of head). Their vision is fresh, informed by their illustrious parents yet full of unique viewpoints. They appreciate the skill of a good photographer, they can make the most out of a script and they can elicit performances out of their actors that receive the highest regard. Think Bill Murray's turn in Lost in Translation or John C. Reilly in Walk Hard or Ellen Page — and Michael Cera, Allison Janney, J.K. Simmons, Jason Bateman or Jennifer Garner for that matter — in Juno. Bravo!
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