Showing posts with label Johnny Flynn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Johnny Flynn. Show all posts

Friday, April 10, 2015

Clouds of Sils Maria



**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Olivier Assayas/Starring: Juliette Binoche, Kristen Stewart, Chloe Grace Moretz, Lars Eidinger and Johnny Flynn

Clouds of Sils Maria, Olivier Assayas' exploration of an aging actresses anxieties and insecurities, is intellectually satisfying and symbolically rich and though not a great film, it commits to stimulating our minds and features some terrific performances.

Assayas' film is a story within a story and his deliberate attempt to dissolve the barrier between the two leaves us wondering if an actress' life and a role for which she is famous have coalesced to form a powerful but disturbing reality.

Inhabiting this role is the venerable Juliette Binoche, an actress with limitless talent who proves to be the most appropriate casting choice; her real-life acting career is also subject to the unforgiving ticking clock the film industry creates for actresses who face obscurity or oblivion in middle-age.

Binoche plays Maria Enders, an actress of international renown who has been offered a part in famed playwright Wilhelm Melchior's play; Maloja Snake. En route to a tribute honoring the literary figure, she learns of his sudden death, which occurred while hiking near his retreat in the Tyrolean Alps.

Maria earned a measure of fame for having played a character in Melchior's famous work; a play (and subsequently a film) about a middle-age female executive who falls in love with a young woman employed in her company. The relationship becomes a psychological melee as the younger woman indulges in manipulative head-games. As her middle-age anxieties leave her emotionally vulnerable, the older woman becomes the younger woman's pawn, which ultimately leads to her suicide.

Maria's performance as the younger woman became a touchstone for other actresses taking on the role. The new production calls for her to play the older woman's part, which she approaches with trepidation. And like the fictitious, mature woman in Maloja Snake, she is feeling acutely aware of her age and is fearful of the role, which she sees as a confirmation of her worst fears.

Maria's personal assistant/friend Valentine (Kristen Stewart), is with her at all hours of the day, reading lines and attending high-profile functions. As the two women rehearse Maloja Snake dialogue, their relationship begins to mirror the play. Assayas ensures the play's dialogue and Maria and Valentine's conversations become almost indistinguishable, thereby creating a continuum where fiction and reality co-exist.

And as the women become emotionally involved in the play-reading, Maria sees Valentine's interpretations of the characters as callow ravings while Valentine begins to reel from Maria's oppressive anxieties.

The title of Melchior's play refers to an uncommon meteorological phenomenon whereby clouds creep through a mountainous Alpine pass like a snake, hence its name. The peculiarity serves as a metaphor (in my interpretation) for the stealthy advance of old age; how it happens upon one like a slithering reptile. To witness the phenomenon is a figurative acceptance of one's mortality.

While the production approaches, Maria and Valentine watch films of the play's co-star, Jo-Ann Ellis (Chloe Grace Moretz) in preparation. Jo-Ann is a young star who draws tabloidy attention and who sometimes stars in bloated Hollywood blockbusters. Maria and Valentine attend a screening that stars Jo-Ann in her latest movie; a silly super-hero genre flick that may resemble something Maria once performed in in her younger years but now mockingly scorns. While Maria scoffs, Valentine is aware of Jo-Ann's widespread popularity and reminds her that the young actress is now the reality that won't go away.

The film is essentially is three parts. In the first, we see Maria as media darling, her feminine sex appeal still volcanic and vital. In the second, we see her undergoing a physical transformation; she is shorn of her pretty locks; a cosmetic harbinger of sexual decline and a prelude to a literal and metaphorical menopause. And the third, we see Jo-Ann subjected to fierce media attention; fleeing paparazzi and maneuvering her way through a scandal involving her new boyfriend. While the young actress' life is of keen interest to the media, Maria finds herself to be a marginal figure in Jo-Ann's dramas. As we watch the two women seek refuge from paparazzi in an escaping limousine, Maria is almost left behind. The scene is an effective depiction of Maria's inevitable obsolescence as a star and her imminent exile from the media epicenter she once occupied.

Assayas' film is about the terror of growing old and the film industry's low regard for actresses who have reached the middle-age ceiling. It is interesting that Maria isn't able to see the Snake until later in the film, when she finally accepts the wrenching reality of aging.

As the film captures Maria in different stages of aging, the characters themselves represent women in the respective stages: Jo-Ann is as Maria once was; a confident, cocky ingenue maybe slightly contemptuous of her elders; Valentine is the middle-ground between the young and old; one too old to be young and too young to perceive the metaphorical Snake while Maria's middle-age is the final stage; the accelerated slide to dotage.

Binoche is no stranger to nuanced material and she handles it with consummate skill, as we might expect. It is a delightful surprise to see Stewart and Moretz in an Assayas film; their presence shows both actresses are eager to take on more challenging roles and they acquit themselves quite well.

Assayas' narrative structure is compelling and clever; the play within a play within a movie works famously and manages to sustain its coherence.

Though the film is pleasing to the mind, I didn't find it absorbing. It should be seen for Binoche's performance and the interplay between she and Stewart and its astute commentary on the film industry's attitudes about women. The film works but falls well short of greatness, in spite of its ambitions. If nothing else, Assayas can be commended for engaging our minds, if not entirely our hearts.

Friday, January 23, 2015

Song One



**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Kate Barker-Froyland/Starring: Anne Hathaway, Johnny Flynn and Mary Steenburgen

It makes sense that Jonathan Demme, renowned for Stop Making Sense, his Neil Young trilogy and other music documentaries, would be a producer on Song One; a film that is as much about music as it is a drama about how three lives are impacted by one man's struggle to survive a traffic accident. Music flows throughout the film but rather than a score or song-track providing the soundtrack, the characters themselves create a sonic atmosphere that is more than a worthy surrogate. Music serves as an emotional thread; connecting characters to one another, their respective pasts and for some, it is a way of life.

The accident that befalls a young man named Henry (Ben Rosenfield) comes after he caps off a busking gig in a New York City subway. While distracted by music playing on his headphones, he is struck by a vehicle, which leaves him hospitalized and in critical condition. While doing research on nomadic tribes in Morocco for her doctoral dissertation, his sister Franny (Anne Hathaway) learns of his accident and hurries home to be at his side. Greeting her at the hospital is her distraught mother; played with verve and poignancy by Mary Steenburgen.

While the Damoclean sword of death hangs over Henry in his comatose state, Franny sifts through her brother's personal belongings in his room at her mother's house. She comes across demo CDs' Henry has recorded and while looking through his guitar case, she finds a concert ticket for a folksy singer named James Forester, whose posters line her brother's walls.

Franny uses the ticket and in doing so, she steps into her brother's musical world and becomes moved by the experience. Afterward, she visits James (the talented singer/songwriter/actor Johnny Flynn) backstage and after mentioning her brother's comatose state, she presents him Henry's CD demo. Sensitive to Franny's brother's serious condition, James visits the hospital and plays a song to Henry as he clings to life in his bed. Touched by James' compassionate act, the two begin to hang around together and soon after a romance blossoms.

Franny spends time reading her brother's diaries and notebooks, learning of his favorite clubs and his partiality to a certain diner which has great pancakes. Visiting all his favorite places, she becomes sympathetic to his musical pursuits, which was previously a cause of contention between the two when years earlier, Henry left school against his sister's wishes to pursue a career in music.

If the story seems gimmicky and in danger of mugging by schmaltz, the material is steered toward the melancholy and somber by Barker-Froyland's direction. The actors manage to keep their performances from sliding to a melodramatic precipice.

We learn James has slipped into a creative block, which has carried on five years. Try as he might, he has had little success extricating himself from his mental impasse, which Franny, with her charm and modest musical talent, slowly draws him out of.

Furthering her quest to free her brother from his coma, Franny buys a small, vintage organ to play at his bedside. Henry's coma and James' musical block are a sort of metaphorical parallel.

As Franny and James' romance begins to burn white hot, their divergent life paths pose an obstacle to their nascent relationship.

I couldn't help but think of the film Once as I was watching Song One, and it may be the case that other film-goers might be reminded of that film as well. Both films have a bittersweet and beautiful aura of ephemeral love and music is a landscape the characters' inhabit lovingly. Both feature charming lovers whose time on screen never degenerates into cuteness and silliness one might find in any movie where Rachel McAdams is the love interest.

Whether Henry awakes is a question dealt with late in the story, and what becomes of Franny and James is left refreshingly vague and unanswered.

Barker-Froyland's first feature is moving and sweet without being cloying and melancholy without being morose.

Anne Hathaway gives a heartfelt performance, while Johnny Flynn effortlessly embodies the musical spirit of James Forester; showcasing some strong vocal chops and musicianship. I would like to have seen more of Mary Steenburgen but she electrifies her scenes; nevertheless, with presence and charm.

Song One is a film that will stimulate your tear ducts but will do so without cheesy manipulation. As they say; it earns its tears. But this isn't maudlin cinema; it's a simple story and an emotionally satisfying one. It may not be monumental, but it more than serves its purpose.