Interlude 2: A Chicago Photo Journal

It was a day of rare beauty the Saturday I attended my first screenings at the Chicago Film Festival, October 8.  The films I wanted to see were hours apart, which provided enough time to walk, and enjoy the city around me...Navy Pier, Illinois Avenue, and the River East Art Center.

I had my camera.

The entrance to Navy Pier.  Hundreds of tourists, and natives enjoying an unseasonably warm October day. Maybe even a few movie lovers, in between Festival Screenings!

Mark and I had seafood on the pier.  Here, we met a young couple from Philadelphia; she was preparing to run in the Chicago Marathon the next day.

Lake Point Tower's surfaces have fun with the light!

The Wrigley Building appears to be "etched" into the side of Trump Tower behind it.

The River East Art Center's exterior, an old loft building, reveals nothing of the symmetrical beauty inside...

"Occupy Wall Street" Should Become "Too Big To Fail"

"Occupy Wall Street" has become a world movement, from Times Square (above) to Europe. I saw images from protests in Rome.  Having just been there, I was filled with a mixed sense of pride, in their solidarity with us; and sadness, in that so many people so far away are feeling the same economic pain. 

Those who control the media, who would have some reason to feel threatened by this movement, can no longer ignore it.  They can, however, try to cast doubt on it.

The coalition of common people, union groups, workers and students was being painted by reporters as an inarticulate mob not unlike a crowd at a Grateful Dead concert.  The protest had no center; no one knew what the result of all of this unrest was supposed to be. 

The ostensible leaders of the Occupy Wall Street groups tried to turn this uncertainty into a virtue.  There was anger and frustration in the air.  There was a shapeless desire to "organize" around common goals that would stir the passions of the disenfranchised, goals that could realistically be achieved. 

But now that the oligarchs who are ruining our country and the world have successfully turned public opinion against the idea of unions (unions are not altogether blameless, either), the call to "organize", to fight against worker exploitation and economic corruption, wasn't stirring enough .  

Reporters make the whole thing seem pathetic just by asking a spokesperson, "What do the protesters WANT?" And the response is often indefinite, and vaguely idealistic, nothing urgent or threatening enough to force the the have-it-alls to concede to... to what?

I was pleased to see the Chicago Tribune publish a list of twelve clear, concrete goals from Occupy Chicago, demanding what needs to be done and by whom. See the list here. 

From my point of view, for anything to come to the table, something drastic has to happen. 

And so, if a reporter asks, "What do you want?",  I want the response to be something  simple like this (with the backing of the thousands in the streets to see it through):

"We want our homes back. We want our livelihoods back. We want our lives back.

We want to see those who were rewarded for taking these things from us be brought to trial and to humbling justice.

We want to force Congress to pass legislation to redistribute the wealth.

If that does not happen, we will invoke our Second Amendment rights, and redistribute it by force.

And we will be TOO BIG TO FAIL."


Rome "Day of Rage"


Madrid


Berlin


London

Movie Review: "50/50" An Unexpected Pleasure

In the 1983 classic "Terms of Endearment", the word "cancer" is uttered, and gets the film's biggest laugh. 

 
Adam, the 27-year-old protagonist in the terrific new dramatic comedy "50/50", remembers that movie, and makes reference to the title as he tries, delicately, to tell his mother that he has been diagnosed with a rare form of spinal cancer.

"50/50" is infused with the audacious humor that made that particular moment in "Terms of Endearment" so memorable.  Be assured, however, that cancer here is not just a punchline, and that the humor, while sometimes crude in a teen-comedy sort of way, is not offensive.  I went in expecting a weepy sitcom---I worked myself into a mood for that--and was surprised at how unexpectedly warm and honest, and funny, this movie is..  "50/50", cleanly directed by Jonathan Levine, exceeded my expectations, and may be one of my year's favorites.

Most viewers know from the start that "50/50" is inspired by the story of comedy-writer and cancer-survivor, Will Reiser (in the photo above with the film's co-star Seth Rogen), who turned the experience into a screenplay.  (The title refers to Adam's chances for survival. )

Reiser, with help from friends, like Rogen, recalled the unbridled humor of his sad and incomprehensible situation.  They realized that it was the humor that allowed them to get through the shock of the diagnosis, the cold and clinical attitudes of some of the medical caregivers, the treatments, the side effects, the worry expressed by family members, the discomfort of well-meaning friends, the pain, and the despair. 


Knowing that Reiser had survived the ordeal takes away the false suspense of whether Adam will have a deathbed scene, and reassures the viewer that there will be less chance of emotional manipulation by exploiting the disease.


The film has a fun-loving slacker spirit that Rogen embodies throughout.  But the film wisely keeps to an even, thoughtful tone so that Rogen provides comic high points and needed relief, but does not dominate the story. 


The film belongs to Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Adam.  As he plays him, Adam is the quiet center of the movie, a common-sense low-key everyman, a feature reporter for a Seattle NPR station where he works with his best friend Kyle (Rogen). When the pain and discomfort in his back are discovered to be the cancer that will require a possibly fatal surgery, Levine's camera stays close to Adam, and captures  how those closest to him respond. His vulnerability touches everyone in different ways.  

Gordon-Levitt has been a bright spot for me in almost every film I have seen him do.  Here, he resists  temptation toward histrionics. In collaboration with his real-life counterpart Reiser, he is able to express the numbness, deep emotion, and even wry humor in a straightforward portrayal. The result is a lovable, convincing and compelling performance that is also a quiet tribute to Reiser.




I liked many of the details and motifs that lent some depth to what would have been simply a sufficiently involving story:


For instance, hair is seen as a sort of a sign of health, strength, and virility.  Early on, Adam runs out of shampoo and must use his girlfriend's fruit-scented brand, a foreshadowing of his impending dependence on an unreliable partner.  When Kyle gets a whiff of Adam's fruit-scented mane, he riffs on it in his broad, ironic way that gives us the first of many clues that these two are soul mates who are only outwardly platonic. 


Later, Adam, with squeamish help from Kyle, has shaved all of the hair off his head in a remarkable scene that appears to have been the real thing (remarkable in that the actors stayed in character without the need to do retakes!).  Completely shorn, Levitt has a gamine, almost androgynous quality that inspires intense feeling from others, including the audience.  There are a few closeups of his face, his head completely bald as he lays on his pillow, that make one want to weep, or enfold him in one's arms.



There are several times Kyle makes a brash statement to Adam, like a verbal buddy-punch to the arm, which translates roughly to "I love you."  Levitt's Adam gamely puts up with Rogen's constant search for women, even when Adam is too tired from illness or treatment. 

When Adam breaks down from the strain and calls Kyle out for his selfishness, the pain and regret from both of them are palpable.  (This is Levitt's big emotional moment in the film, and he is brilliantly up to the task.)  Adam has finally shattered his demeanor of "Acceptance", spoken his heart, and can now put things back in order.


In another subplot in the chemotherapy room, Adam's two older companions-in-treatment (Philip Baker Hall and Matt Frewer) offer him some pot-laced cookies (served in a tin painted with a fruit pattern!)  This leads to a goofy and wonderful interlude in which Levitt, stoned out of his mind, wanders the hospital halls while the Bee Gees wail on the soundtrack. Soon after that, there is an sequence in which Adam succumbs to nausea.  Broad humor in this film is often followed by physical or emotional intensity.


Adam's relationship with his doting, anxious but inwardly strong mother (Anjelica Houston), provides another side-plot that is entirely natural but is saved from cliche by Houston's powerhouse presence.  She is so good on film;  As she reacts to the news of her son's illness, Houston dredges up pain from deep inside, and her cries of anguish, even off-screen, dominate the scene's emotional landscape. Houston's character is also caring for a husband with Alzheimer's disease.  As annoying as Adam thinks her to be, her unwavering strength in the face of it all helps Adam break through an adolescent phase in his relationship with her, and allows him to accept, and even be strong for, his parents in a new way.


Best of all is Adam's budding relationship with Katherine, (Anna Kendrick) an apprentice social worker who has been assigned by the clinic to help him deal with the uncertainty and emotional trauma of his cancer. This completes a sort of triangle with his philandering artist-girlfriend (Bryce Dallas Howard in her smarmy best). 

Kendrick, who won me over as the insecure young professional in "Up In The Air", here does insecurity one better in a role that initially works as a "type":  trying to do what's proper, and go by-the-book,  she reacts awkwardly, realizing that she is out of her depth with her new "patient".  Her tentativeness mirrors some of our own, and their banter is deftly written and often very funny.  There is a definite chemistry brewing, and the movie is smart to allow the inevitable to linger for a while, so we can enjoy how well-matched thes actors are emotionally.

Finally, Katherine learns to be authentic in her treatment of Adam.  Her "touch" on Adam's arm, a professional device that is menat meant to inspire trust, but that is clearly artificial and annoying to him, eventually becomes a warm touch of encouragement and love, as she accepts her romantic yearnings for him.



Kendrick becomes our surrogate and finally our heroine. A viewer understands the difficulty that anyone, even one who is a trained professional, can have in being direct,  not falsely optimistic or avoiding reality.  By the end, we are relieved to see her, and hope that she is will provide the strength Adam that needs to see him through.

Adam allows his cancer to teach him about the people around him, lessons he feels an urgency to learn as he senses his time running short.  Most moving is his discovery that his crude and often selfish buddy (Rogen) has actually been studying books about how to help a friend with cancer, books they originally bought as a ploy to score a date for Rogen with an attractive bookstore clerk.


It is impossible to remain unmoved as Adam's realization of his mortality finally settles in.  He expresses his unabashed affection for his equally reticent pal Kyle, (the camera giving them space as Adam desperately, appropriately hugs Kyle in the front seat of their truck); proclaims his love for his awkward and earnest therapist, (Kendrick); and makes peace with his anxious, smothering but good-hearted mother (Houston).

Finally, I have to give voice to my particular bias for dogs, by stating that the best, funniest closeup of any celebrity in any film this year was scored by...a very perplexed and loving greyhound named Skeletor. Skeletor is adopted for Adam early in the film, and it is to the movie's great credit (in my eyes) that the dog is not used for one joke and then simply abandonded. I felt real love coming from the screen when Skeletor crawls next to a despondend Levitt in bed, and nuzzles his face. 

From out of left field, a movie that got relatively little advanced press has won over audiences in a quietly hilarious way. I think the film, without preaching, will give some people hope.

I hope this becomes Levitt's breakout moment; allows Rogen to move into more sensitive roles; brings Houston back to the big screen more regularly; gives Kendrick a place of stardom next to Amy Adams;  encourages people to save orphaned racing greyhounds; and gets its name called a few times on a certain Sunday night in February. 

Most of all, seriously, I hope contemporary audiences will see this movie, take ot to heart, and make it a perennial favorite, in the same way their predecessors embraced a movie like---well, maybe "Terms of Endearment".

Up Next: "50/50"

Gay Romantic Film "Weekend" Offers Nothing New

Mark and I made a special trip to one of our favorite movie houses, The Music Box, last Sunday night to be sure not to miss "Weekend".  The film promised to be a contemporary story about two young men who fall in love and have a life-changing weekend together. A few of the reviews were rapturous.

Maybe we're so starved for realistic screen depictions of gay life, that we gladly support any little film that comes our way.  And a film like "Weekend" does deserve a vote of confidence for trying to fill a void. It's earnest, and sincere...but unfortunately, a little bit flat and empty.

Russell (Tom Cullen) picks up Glen (Chris New) in a London bar, and they go back to Russell's apartment for a one-night stand.  Russell is a lifeguard who is struggling with the closet; Glen is an artist and activist on his way to America to live openly.  The two have sex, drink a lot, take drugs, talk about nothing in particular, have more sex, drink, and finally, after about an hour's running time, have one heated and interesting conversation, before a tearful, embraceable farewell at a train station, filmed in an effective slow zoom-in.

That is about all.

Say what you will about the documentary-feel, and the almost improvisatory unfolding of action (minimal) and dialog, "Weekend" has almost nothing new to say.  Even though the actors are natural in their roles, there's little for them to do, and not much at stake.  There's a general ennui hanging over the film, and an aura of self-importance that keeps it firmly in adolescent territory with mere pretensions to exploring more mature themes about gay life. 

I had high hopes for this film, and as it meandered on to a fairly gripping final twenty minutes, I felt all the more disappointed at the tiredness of what came before.  When the first couple left the theater after about 30 minutes, I was surprised. When the second couple got up and walked out 15 minutes later, I wasn't.

"Weekend" also suffered from some of the worst sound recording I have ever encountered in a professional movie, independent or otherwise. I would think that director Andrew Haigh's experience as an assistant film editor on films like "Gladiator" and "Black Hawk Down" would make him sensitive to the importance of crisp sound in a film that depends so much on dialog and relatively little on visuals or cutting. 

The argument between Russell and Glen toward the end of their weekend, when they confront their falling in love (or not), the meaning of their lives, and their difference of opinion about things as fundamental as marriage and coming out, seemed like the only bit of dialogue that was really thought-out or significant.  Glen's idea that he could live openly in the United States felt more naive than we had come to expect from this character. Maybe the script contained idealistic notions about "liberal" America, or perhaps the script was written before Prop. 8 was passed in California.  Either way, despite its quaintness there were real emotions and real issues in this scene.

Don't get me wrong, I love cerebral films, and action is not always my cup of tea.  But  "Weekend" might have benefited from a little more activity and a lot fewer banal ideas and cliched self-reflection.