Effie Gray

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Richard Laxton/Starring: Dakota Fanning, Emma Thompson, Greg Wise, Claudia Cardinale, Derek Jacobi, Julie Walters, Tom Sturridge, Robbie Coltrane, David Suchet and James Fox

Effie Gray, the one-time wife of 19th century eminent British art critic and author John Ruskin, is the subject of Richard Laxton's film, which might make a suitable companion piece to Mr. Turner, Mike Leigh's recent J.W. Turner biopic. Both men were contemporaries and Ruskin is credited for championing Turner's work. But the most conspicuous similarity between the two were their troubled relationships with women. While Turner experiences with the fairer sex were often tempestuous, Ruskin remained emotionally detached and almost cruel in his relationship with Effie Gray, as Laxton's film attests.

Laxton's film on Ruskin's suffering wife tells her story while illuminating the less flattering aspects of her husband's private life and his disturbingly odd relationship with his parents.

In an early scene, we see Effie Gray (Dakota Fanning) and John Ruskin (Greg Wise) in their post-nuptial ride to the Ruskin residence, where John shares a home with his parents; Margaret (Julie Walters) and his father, the elder John (David Suchet). In a moment that foreshadows the troubles to come, Effie presents herself to John in their wedding night bedchamber, only to be looked upon with disgust.

Ignoring her husband's odd behavior, Effie makes at attempt at being a useful, dutiful wife by assuming a role as amanuensis to John; only to be scolded by her mother-in-law. Margaret's harsh, dismissive rebuke sends a clear message to Effie that her help is neither adequate nor needed. Disparaged and feeling the crushing ennui of domestic idleness, Effie makes another attempt at being a homemaker. She deliberately rips one of John's shirts to provide herself an opportunity to mend it; a desperate effort that earns the maid's scorn, who treats Effie like an impertinent child. Unloved by her husband and denied any meaningful involvement in domestic affairs, Effie begins to feel the Ruskin home's noxious effects.

Compounding her misery are John's parents, who become increasingly cold to Effie while displaying a strange, neurotic over-protectiveness of their son.

Feeling stifled by her in-laws and virtually ignored by her husband, Effie finds herself subject to other oppressive behavior, this time at a dinner hosted in the Ruskin home for artists and intellectuals. During a dinner table debate, Effie asks a question of her husband, who stands before the mostly male gathering in a professorial manner. Her question is met with silent disdain--the severest her husband's as she abashedly resumes her silence. But a guest, Lady Eastlake (Emma Thompson), wife of the powerful art patron Sir Charles Eastlake (James Fox), comes to her rescue; complimenting Effie for her intelligence and perspicacity. The two take to one another which prompts Lady Eastlake to suggest the Ruskins host she and her husband for dinner.

In the interim, Effie is subjected to Margaret Ruskin's dubious attentions. Her mother-in-law begins to prescribe a strange, possibly harmful concoction of her own design for Effie's worsening mental and physical condition. The physical and mental toll the Ruskin family exacts on Effie leaves her feeling ill; a possible psycho-somatic affliction that Lady Eastlake recognizes when she and her husband arrive for dinner. Sensitive to the Ruskin home's ill-effects on Effie, Lady Eastlake becomes the young woman's sympathetic ally.

And as Effie's unhappiness continues, she begins to notice John's odd refusal to consummate their marriage and his tendency to self-stimulate; a disquieting, near-ascetic idiosyncrasy that contributes to the marriage's toxicity.

Though John Ruskin is a key figure in the story and a personality of scholarly fame, it is Effie's resilience and integrity that is the real focus. We feel the weight of Victorian social strictures on Effie Gray as life with her husband and the elder Ruskins become unbearable. It is made all the more difficult when a painter in John's artistic circle, Everett Millais, falls in love with Effie, which incurs her husband's scorn and jealous suspicion. Learning that divorce is an arduous pursuit for any woman in Victorian England, Effie pursues it nevertheless, which proves to be a significant turning point in her life.

Fanning, hardly an obvious choice to play Effie Gray, handles the role with assurance, allowing her ferociously innocent face to mask a steely resolve. Greg Wise--the memorably villainous Willoughby in Ang Lee's Sense and Sensibility, makes Ruskin a callous but pitiable figure and executes his performance well. As John was a pawn to his parents, whose draconian methods of child-rearing contributed both to his success and to his unhealthy regard for women, Wise shows us a man of towering intellect and frail psyche.

Laxton, a television veteran, shows patience with the material, never hurrying Effie's story along. Some lovely pans and wide-shots of Scottish highlands and lochs share screen-time with interiors refreshingly shorn of the Masterpiece Theater aesthetic to which some Victorian period pieces are sometimes prey.

Thompson is an accomplished script-scribe, having won an Oscar for her adaptation of Jane Austen, and again demonstrates her writerly acumen with a tight, original story with terrific dialogue and historical fidelity.

Effie Gray is nothing astonishing but it is well done and stimulating in its own, modest way. It doesn't sentimentalize Gray's story nor does it render her a martyr. I liked the film but won't rhapsodize over it.

Woman in Gold

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Simon Curtis/Starring: Helen Mirren, Ryan Reynolds, Daniel Bruhl, Katie Holmes, Jonathan Pryce, Frances Fisher, Antje Traue, Max Irons, Tatiana Maslany and Elizabeth McGovern

Maria Altmann, niece of Adele Bloch-Bauer; the subject of artist Gustav Klimt's masterpiece Woman in Gold (originally titled Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I) attempted to reclaim the painting which was stolen from her family's home by the Nazis during the 1938 annexation of Austria.

A reluctant Austrian government was unwilling to part with what it considered to be a national treasure, and vigorously resisted her efforts. This in spite of the Austrian government's late 20th century push to return stolen artwork to their rightful owners. Altmann pursued the painting by legal means, enlisting the help of a Los Angeles lawyer named Randal Schoenberg but the two found the Austrian legal system formidable. Just as the situation seemed impossible, Schoenberg discovered a way to sue the Austrian government by way of the American court system, which paved the way for a hearing before the Austrian court. Altmann's Sisyphean quest then gained a glimmer of hope after many setbacks and disppointments.

The story of Altmann's pursuit is the subject of director Simon Curtis' new film Woman in Gold.

One would think a real story such as Altmann's would only require minimal effort to be compelling onscreen but somehow Curtis' film simmers but never seethes, leaving the audience with something only adequately told and performed. How could this be, when Altmann's early life in Austria meant being in the company of a beautiful aunt who has since become an icon in the history of art? How could it be when Altmann faced persecution under the Nazi's and narrowly escaped its destructive agenda? Lesson to filmmakers telling "true" stories: riveting history doesn't necessarily mean riveting cinema; powerful intercession is required.

Helen Mirren plays Maria Altmann while Ryan Reynolds is lawyer Randal Schoenberg, grandson of the famed composer Arthur Schoenberg. Altmann and Randal meet in Los Angeles following the news of the Austrian government's restorative gesture. Randal's assignment as a newly-hired attorney in a prestigious law firm is to look into the feasibility of representing Altmann, which entails flying to Austria to examine files and records pertaining to her family. Complicating Randal's task is Altmann, who refuses to return to the country that is essentially responsible for her family's demise. After careful deliberation, Altmann reconsiders. She locks up her L.A. dress shop to join Randal in Austria.

In Austria, Altmann and Randal meet a journalist (Daniel Bruhl), who takes a special interest in her problem.

While Altmann's efforts are hobbled by bureaucratic resistance, her memories of her stunning aunt Adele (Antje Traue) mingle with her grim recollections of Nazi terror, which visited the Jewish population of Austria in the 1930s' and 40s'. Though Adele never faced Nazi oppression (she died in 1925 of Meningitis), Maria's parents, her Uncle and her husband Fritz Altmann all suffered a variety of humiliations, including the confiscation of property, particularly Klimt's famous painting of her aunt.

The film is really a diptych of Altmann's past and present, which also serves as its narrative structure. The closer Altmann comes to realizing her dream of repossessing the painting, the more we learn of the subject of Klimt's masterwork and her special place in Altmann's memory. And as the process of reclaiming the painting becomes an almost hopeless nightmare, we see that Altmann also seeks redress from a nation that abetted her family's destruction.

But the film is also about Randal and what he sacrifices to help Altmann reclaim the painting, namely his family's happiness and his career, which are jeopardized in the process.

The various stories should translate into a powerful film, but too often Mirren's Altmann comes off as a loveable senior with cute witticisms. I give Reynolds credit for taking on a role that doesn't resemble anything in his usual repertoire. He has some moments where he shows surprising range but he is mostly Altmann's straight man/sidekick, leading the legal struggle. Frances Fisher and Katie Holmes are the movie's furniture and little more than that. I wish Bruhl had been given more to do other than remind Altmann how hopeless her cause is. He is better than his very limited, short-shrifted role.

Curtis' film is interesting and if you find that word criminally tepid, then know that I use it deliberately, for that's as much praise as I can award it. I'm a bit weary, nay, very weary of Holocaust-related stories. Though the film is also about other things, it is essentially a story about how the Nazi's devastated a family and robbed it of one of its prized possessions while suppressing the Jewish identity of the woman in the painting Woman in Gold. I feel I've seen Nazi malice portrayed so often on screen, it's lost its ability to shock or make me feel outrage.

And though the young Maria Altmann's (Tatiana Maslany) escape from Nazi operatives gives the film a temporary pulse-quickener, it does little to bestow any vigor on the proceedings. What should be a powerful film is really just an okay film that could have been an AMC, HBO or Netflix production for streaming or television. As the story carried on, my eyelids began their inexorable pilgrimmage toward leadenness. I cared about Altmann's struggle but I could already anticipate the end titles that would inevitably say something about what became of Altmann's efforts.

Funny how many people I met at the local theater rolled their eyes when I asked if they had seen the movie. "Geez, the trailer looks bad, doesn't it? seemed to be the most frequently heard question/comment.

I implore you to see the trailer and skip the flick. If you find a two-minute trailer insufferable, the 109 minute version won't alter your perception much.

It Follows

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: David Robert Mitchell/Starring: Maika Monroe, Keir Gilchrist, Lili Sepe, Jake Weary, Daniel Zovatto and Olivia Luccardi

It's refreshing to see a horror film that doesn't have Saw or Insidious in the title and even more so to find one that isn't about idiots behaving idiotically. But based on the trailers I watched before director David Robert Mitchell's terrific new film It Follows, it seems more are to come. But in the meantime, Mitchell's film heralds the arrival of a young, new talent behind the camera; one who does so much with what appears to be an emaciated budget. Mitchell's film is creepy, imaginative and its look is something reminiscent of a 1980s' low-budget horror flick, which isn't a disparaging knock.

Set in the urban and suburban blight of Detroit, the film tells the story of a mysterious, malevolent entity or force (Mitchell never really divulges its origins, which works really well), that assumes human form then single-mindedly pursues a victim. The protagonist, Jay Height (Maika Monroe, who resembles both Chloe Sevigny and Dakota Fanning at times) learns of the entity the hard way.

One night, after a date with a young man named Hugh (Jake Weary), who exhibits strange behavior at the movies and dinner, he becomes alarmed when he sees a lady Jay (and the audience) can't. Hugh hurriedly leads her to a secluded area for some carnal pleasure. Unfortunately for Jay, Hugh has ulterior motives, which she learns when he places a rag over her mouth to render her unconscious. When she wakes, tied to a chair in an abandoned building, he explains to her that something is after him; something that assumes human form. Explaining further, he tells Jay that in making love to her he has "passed on" the entity to her; making her its prime target. He also insists she should never allow it to touch her, as it would mean certain death, which would also mean the thing would then find and kill him before moving along the chain of those who have managed to elude its lethal malevolence. He warns her she should always have access to an exit, lest the entity corner her. Jay discovers that only the entity's prey, namely herself, can see the assailant; making its existence difficult to prove to others.

Quite a bit to lay on anyone, eh?!

So begins Jay's ordeal, which means eluding the thing she can only see and convincing her friends she isn't crazy.

What is particularly impressive about Mitchell's film is its lack of special effects. With a meager $2 million dollar budget, Mitchell proves himself to be a resourceful filmmaker. No frame-clogging CGI or ear-shattering noise to tell his story; Mitchell relies on the most basic resource available to filmmakers: people. Every stalking comes in human guise; sometimes an old woman, another time a naked or half-naked assailant. Sometimes the entity approaches from behind or when Jay is sitting in class, looking out the window. The fact that it never runs; only creeps or staggers slowly and implacably toward its victim makes it all the more frightening.

As the story progresses, we begin to see themes emerge; one involves the passing of the entity through sexual intercourse; a metaphor for sexually transmitted diseases. Much of the film's imagery is sexual; half-naked or fully naked bodies in relentless pursuit, while the libidinous and quasi-libidinous relationships Jay shares between three young men in the film connect to its sexual theme. Mitchell seems to be making a comment about the consequences of promiscuity and emotionally-detached sex.

Yet another theme focuses on Detroit's economic downturn, which serves as commentary on the country's financial woes as well. As Jay and her friends search for Hugh to learn more about the entity, the group travels from middle-class suburbs to blighted neighborhoods that may have thrived once upon a prosperity.

And as the teens devise a plan to kill the entity, the scheme's outcome leaves us with an uneasy feeling the force is impervious to destructive means. We never actually see or learn how the malign spirit came to be. Mitchell leaves much to mystery, which I think is very effective. We also never see the thing itself, only its human vessels--also very effective.

Though Jay and her friends are sometimes prey to conventional horror film teen behavior--doing things that are several bus-stops pass stupid--they act and react like real people, which means making choices and decisions that are reasonably logical. As many horror film fans know, level-headed teens with common sense are a rare species.

I really liked the film's look; we're never certain which decade we're in. We could be in a 70s' exploitation film or, as aforementioned, a modest multiplex offering from the 1980s'.

Mitchell's instinct to downplay gore is welcome and serves the film well, as does the ending, with its marvelous ambiguity.

It Follows has garnered strong reviews, which it richly deserves. Making a horror film so distinct and imaginative is hardly a frivolous venture;, as film-goers, like myself, are well-aware. To see a horror film as unique as Mitchell's, one usually has to sit through countless, uninspired, Hollywood splatter-fests and mediocre gore franchises that never seem to die.

I hope Mitchell avoids the pitfalls that sometimes rob young, successful filmmakers of their creative fire; either too much acclaim or the lure of Hollywood glamor, which almost always comes with a compromising price-tag. I think he will. Can't wait to see his next film.

Get Hard

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Etan Cohen/Starring: Will Ferrell, Kevin Hart, Craig T. Nelson, Alison Brie and John Mayer

First-time director Etan Cohen's Get Hard is an intermittently funny raunch-fest and like most Hollywood comedies, it can't establish and maintain a comedic pace that is entirely satisfying. Its failings can't be ascribed to its cast, because the film's strength lay in its two leads; funny men Will Ferrell and stand-up comic Kevin Hart; who know their way around a funny line and a gag. The film does manage to reach for the outrageous at times but more often it settles for quick and easy rather than comically inventive.

The story centers on James (Will Ferrell), a very successful trader who is offered a promotion by his boss Martin (Craig T. Nelson). Success comes at a price, for a disgruntled rival is vehemently opposed to James' good fortune.

The woman behind James' climb to the financial Empyrean is his fiancé--and boss' daughter--Alissa (Alison Brie). Alissa's Lady MacBeth ambitions tolerate no dithering or indecision on the part of her man and she is less than sympathetic when she finds her fiance is under arrest on charges of securities fraud. Slave to the lavish lifestyle she and her husband enjoy, Alissa lets nothing obstruct her pursuit of material needs.

Meanwhile, Darnell (Kevin Hart), a struggling foreman of a car-cleaning service, who wields an irrepressible entrepreneurial spirit, comes into contact with James, whose vehicle is in Darnell's care. Looking for an investor for his own car-cleaning business, Darnell approaches James for $30,000, only to be condescendingly brushed off. It is slightly amusing to see James panic when Darnell knocks on his car window; thinking a robbery is in progress.

After James is sentenced to ten years in San Quentin, he panics, knowing his time in jail won't be served in a cushy Federal prison, but the formidable San Quentin penitentionary. Aware that his chance of escaping rape and violent assault behind bars is very slim, he decides to enlist Darnell's help in how to survive prison life, holding to the bigoted notion that most black men have served jail-time. Incensed, Darnell takes umbrage until James offers money for his services that matches the investment he needs for his business. The wrinkle in Darnell's plan is that he has never been incarcerated. Unwilling to lose the money, he consults a cousin who has served time.

Immersing himself in his mission, Darnell transforms James' lush home into a simulated prison environment. He also has the house staff, who aren't exactly fond of their boss, assume the roles of prison guards and fellow inmates.

This is ripe for comedic plunder but Cohen never fully exploits its possibilities. Darnell spends more time trying to toughen a weak, cowardly James for the eventualities of both anal and oral rape.

In a sequence that shows some daring, Darnell and James visit a gay hangout for the express purpose of James propositioning a man to perform fellatio. Unfortunately, the subsequent scene where James finds himself on his knees before another man in a bathroom stall plays too long and is leached of its humorous potential. While James recoils in fear and loathing, Darnell resists the advances of a man back at the bar. The whole scene smacks a little of homophobia but it earns points for its willingness to pursue raunch to extremes.

The film would like to be about James' gradual conversion from heartless capitalist to hero sensitive to class struggle and racial disparity. Somehow a lowest common denominator comedy featuring a character like James always seems to be somewhat incongruous. Dumb Hollywood comedies would do better to stick to the tasteless jokes and leave socially conscious messages to more sophisticated satire.

So eventually both parties work out their respective issues and a campaign to smear James comes to light; no earth-shattering revelations here. Some gags hit home while others are dead on arrival or delivery. Ferrell and Hart manage to keep it all afloat long enough for the film to reach the end credits. Alison Brie makes an interesting shrew but Craig T. Nelson is unfortunately only asked to hit his marks.

It's interesting to note that a group of teenagers sitting in front of me at the late show were actually smoking weed. The teens desperately fanned the big, billowy clouds of smoke to avoid detection. I don't remember seeing anyone attempt anything so brazen in a movie theater, but I thought, good for them, maybe they'll find the movie uproariously funny now. I wish they had passed their magic wand back to me; I could have used it. No such luck; I was forced to watch it all with my senses intact. Maybe the young folks had the right idea. Keep that in mind if you feel an uncontrollable impulse to see Get Hard.

Or maybe skip the movie and just get stoned.

3 Hearts (3 Coeurs)

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Benoit Jacquot/Starring: Charlotte Gainsbourg, Chiara Mastroianni, Catherine Deneuve and Benoit Poelvoorde

You know you're watching a French film when a middle-age man initiates a conversation with an unhappy but beautiful middle-age woman, then after walking and talking all night, agrees to meet her a week later in a Parisian park, only to arrive late to the meeting, thus missing what might have been. We know instinctively, from our experiences watching French cinema, that the thwarted assignation will have powerful ramifications. But I'm not being dismissive of what the French do so well; I'm actually praising the French for excelling in telling stories that are both intimate and riveting. In Benoit Jacquot's 3 Hearts, we have both qualities in abundance.

Benoit Poelvoorde stars as Marc Beaulieu, a Parisian tax auditor who finds himself in a small French town for the night. Out late in the deserted streets, he meets a woman, Sylvie Berger (the beautiful Charlotte Gainsbourg) walking alone. He asks her for directions to a hotel as a pretext for conversation. The pair end up spending a romantic evening strolling, until dawn arrives. Mutually enchanted, they agree to meet in Paris the following week. But though Sylvie is punctual, Marc is held up in traffic and arrives too late. Dejected, Sylvie walks away sadly while Marc, staring at an empty park chair, thinks about his stifled opportunity.

In another scene, we see Sylvie bidding on antiques at an auction. She wins a beautiful but expensive mirror for the family antique store, in which her sister Sophie (Chiara Mastroianni) acts as proprietress. Shortly after, as her heart-broken sister leaves for America, Sophie tends to the store's financial troubles, which are many and dire.

After having sought advice on the store's troubled finances in the town tax office, Sophie stands in a corridor, overcome with anxiety and tears. Marc, who happens to be serving in the offices on an out-of-Paris assignment, happens to notice Sophie sobbing and stops to offer an ear and some sympathy. Wanting to help and maybe get to know Sophie, he agrees to help her with her books. After fixing a potentially pernicious problem, a romance burgeons and before long, Sophie finds herself leaving her boyfriend for Marc. A courtship follows in which Marc meets Sophie's mother, Madame Berger (Catherine Deneuve, Mastroianni's real-life mother). And while the happy couple's relationship hastens toward marriage, Sophie shares her joy with Sylvie via Skype while Marc just narrowly misses being seen onscreen.

The audience may know where this is will lead and although the plot seems a tad bit gimmicky, Director Benoit Jacquot doesn't let the story become a silly contrivance. As Sophie and Marc make wedding arrangements, the audience dreads the imminent moment when Sylvie will learn Marc is to be her brother-in-law. Having seen Sylvie's picture on Madame Berger's wall, Marc is well aware of his predicament. And before the wedding commences, Sylvie finally learns of the groom's identity when she accidentally sees him on another Skype call. Her reaction is powerful and the scene wrenching.

A subplot involving the Mayor of the town who, after presiding at Marc and Sophie's wedding, is the subject of one of Marc's audits, which reveals illicit irregularities. Marc's refusal to help someone so close to the Berger family betrays a hypocritical devotion to his own mercurial principles, which he was quick to overlook when re-auditing Sophie's records.

When Sylvie arrives for the wedding reception, the tension is almost overpowering.

The suspense is heightened further as we wonder if Sophie will learn of Sylvie and Marc's past and whether the revelation could destroy the marriage. Jacquot, like many excellent French directors, knows how to make a relationship drama burn. He keeps the roiling pace steady but it helps to have an exceptional cast at the call. Gainsbourg is a fascinating actress. She can project vulnerability and coiled rage at the same time. Mastroianni is no less intriguing while I wish Deneuve had had more to do. Poolvoorde is another physical contradiction; he has a buffoon's face one moment, a thoughtful and compassionate mien the next; an appropriate contrast for someone who has gotten himself--inadvertently--into a tangled mess.

When the situation becomes nearly unbearable, Jacquot wisely keeps the outcome as messy and unresolved as the triangle itself. The final scene shows us an affective what if scenario; something neat, tidy and romantic to play against the Gordian knot strangling Marc, Sophie and Sylvie.

I was drawn into the story. A few scenes made me squirm and I couldn't help but be moved by the idea that a failed rendezvous could bring about so much misfortune for three people. Is the film a singular achievement? No, but it sears nevertheless. One may feel the story relies too much on a hard to swallow Macguffin, to wit; the coincidental meeting of Marc and Sophie but one need not slavishly adhere to the strict demands of reality to be carried along by the story.

It seems so little French cinema crosses the oceanic divide these days, so seeing Jacquot's drama is a bit of a relief. I hope more are forthcoming; American films are quite toxic this time of year.

Cinderella

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Kenneth Branagh/Starring: Cate Blanchett, Lily James, Richard Madden, Helena Bonham Carter, Stellan Skarsgard, Derek Jacobi, Nonzo Anozie, Holliday Grainger, Ben Chaplin and Sophie McShera and Rob Brydon

With myriad iterations of the Cinderella in film and television, one might expect a live action interpretation to be superfluous and unnecessary. But Kenneth Branagh's Cinderella proves any fairy tale can re-told if inspiration and heart serve as guides. I'm happy (and surprised) to say this version succeeds amiably, which is no small accomplishment, given the universal fondness for the Disney version. How Branagh pulls off this creative coup is due in part to breathtaking visuals, fine casting and maybe best of all, outstanding costumes, which are beautifully designed spectacles of color and texture.

I must admit that I came to the film with low expectations. Re-tellings or re-interpretations tend to be drearily revisionist, CGI nightmares or misguided attempts to make said stories seem contemporary and hip. Some horrific examples from recent years are Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Sam Raimi's Oz the Great and Powerful. I realize both films are more retellings that anything else, but the two films share an awareness of their more successful predecessors, which doesn't help.

If one is to take on a beloved story like Cinderella, it helps to cast actors with presence and quirky charm. Who better to fill the shoes of the iconic wicked stepmother than Cate Blanchett, who plays the character as if she invented it. Of course we need a disarming couple to play the put-upon heroine and the charming prince. Lily James from Downton Abbey and Richard Madden from Game of Thrones make an attractive, fairy tale pair who don't rely solely on their youthful comeliness to give their characters warmth and spirit.

Branagh doesn't tweak the story or characters much, which is a sound approach. We see Ella (the Cinder appendage comes later) and her loving family residing in their idyllic country home. Ella enjoys harmonious relations with nature and as one would expect (demand?) her mice are always about to provide companionship. But tragedy befalls the family when Ella's mother passes away. Her father (Ben Chaplain) remarries and suddenly Ella's halcyon life is upended when her new stepmother (Blanchett) and her insufferable new stepsisters Drisella and Anastasia (played with diabolical glee by Sophie McShera and Holliday Grainger) become permanent fixtures in her home. Unfortunately for Ella, her father is often away on business, leaving her in the company of her step-family, who have little love for their new digs and even less for their new step family member. When an accident claims her father's life, Ella suddenly finds she is little more than a scullery maid for her new step-family.

Slaving around the clock, Ella manages to escape the cottage one day for a ride in the forest. There, she encounters a handsome prince (Madden) who is busy leading a stag hunt. Incensed by the idea of a woodland creature being stalked, Ella convinces the Prince to halt the hunt. Fairy-tale sparks fly and though Ella returns home knowing very little about the prince, she feels a resonant buzz from the encounter.

Back home among her wicked step-family, Ella's ash-soiled face becomes the butt of her stepsisters jokes, which earns her the sobriquet Cinder-Ella.

The rest of the film is more or less faithful to the classic story; the invitation to the ball, which serves as a means for the prince to choose a princess, Cinderella's confinement during the ball, the fairy godmother's fateful appearance, etc.

So what does Branagh's Cinderella do to earn its own relevance? Simple: it cares about the characters more than CGI. But what CGI we do see is deployed with discretion and taste.
Branagh, as a seasoned director of Shakespearean adaptations, understands stimulating characters and dialogue make for more compelling drama than the visual rubbish. Having directed big budget, CGI-dependent Hollywood fare like Thor and live action drama like Henry V, with its Kurosawa-like battle scenes, it's probably safe to say Branagh respects humans more than special effects wizardry.

Another quality in this production are the memorable costumes. The staggeringly beautiful designs make a powerful impression. Cate Blanchett was quite striking in her various dresses, which not only suggested elegance but sex appeal. This wicked stepmother had some delicious curves the dresses accentuated quite nicely. Blanchett's lovely blue eyes and camera-loving red hair must be a cinematographer's delight and a costumer designer's muse. Costumer designer Sandy Powell, whose impressive resume includes many Scorsese films and the costume dramas Shakespeare in Love and Hugo, intoxicates our eyes with vivid, tactile colors. Though I wasn't a fan of Hugo, I can still recall Powell's gorgeous costumes. In Cinderella one can admire the beautiful finery; the shiny embroidery, the stunning ball gowns that blossom like flowers, Cinderella's other-worldly blue dress and the offbeat humor of Anastasia's and Drisella's polka-dotted skirts. Though Lily James is quite lovely in her ball gown, I wanted to see more of Blanchett in the seductive green she always seems to be wearing.

Fairy tales are only as good as the villains who inhabit them and the film is well served by Blanchett, who is deliciously diabolical. Her slithery saunters are sexy; she's a witch in satiny fabrics and she's pleased to be so. She has a lot of fun with the role and she doesn't waste the opportunity. Helena Bonham-Carter as the fairy godmother is another bit of inspired casting. Her ever-eccentric presence is perfect for the character and she is quite amusing.

I enjoyed Cinderella. I'm hardly conferring masterpiece accolades on Branagh's film but it is true to its fairy-tale status. It has humor and aesthetic appeal and will beguile both the young and old.

Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem

**Spoiler Alert**

Directors: Ronit Elkabetz, Schlomi Elkabetz/Starring: Ronit Elkabetz, Simon Abkarian, Sasson Gabai, and Menashe Noy

One of the extraordinary qualities one may notice in the Israeli/French production Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem is its ability to tell a spellbinding, powerful story within a claustrophobic setting; namely, an Israeli courtroom. And among many of the film's wondrous attributes is its story, which might leave one wondering how such breathtaking yet deceptive simplicity could translate to a deeply moving courtroom drama. The title suggests a woman's condemnation, which becomes all but fact in a story depicting the rabbinical court and its female-hostile, rigid interpretations of divorce. The story is mainly an indictment of a system predicated on religious dogma that denies women self-determination while reducing them to the status of chattel.

The ferociously talented Ronit Elkabetz; the film's co-writer, co-director and star, is brilliant as a middle-age wife named Viviane Amsalem, who is fed up with her failed marriage and her husband Elisha, (the terrific French-Armenian actor Simon Abkarian) who refuses to grant her a divorce.

When the film begins, we hear only male voices and for awhile, we see only men in a courtroom. The opening makes a strong statement about the male-dominated, rabbinical divorce court. We learn it is nigh impossible for a woman to be granted a divorce in Israel without the husband's consent. And though divorces are the domain of civil courts in the west, in Israel all divorces are adjudicated by Rabbi's, who also serve as arbiters of morality.

During the hearings, we understand Viviane and Elisha have been married for years and have four children to show for their troubled marriage. We learn Viviane hasn't lived with her husband for sometime; residing at her sister's home with three of her kids and supporting herself as a hairdresser in her own salon.

Serving as her attorney is Carmel Ben Tovim (Menashe Noy) while her husband is represented by his brother, Rabbi Shimon (Sasson Gabai). With a male-dominated courtroom: three rabbinical judges, two male attorneys and Elisha, Viviane seems caught in masculine vise with little hope or means of being properly heard. In the early scenes, the three rabbis presiding over the case regard Viviane menacingly; granting her moderate freedom of expression in her testimony.

As the hearings are prolonged needlessly by Elisha, who has no intention of divorcing his wife, his contempt for Viviane's position is made manifest in his repeated failures to appear before the court. While Viviane becomes increasingly frustrated, she points out to the judges that in America, repeated failures to appear would hasten a divorce but the rabbis', intent on adhering to rabbinical law, enable Elisha to delay a court judgement, thus obstructing progress. The intertitles inform us of elapsed time between hearings, which leaves the audience and the rabbis' infuriated as Elisha's stubborn refusals to grant his wife a divorce become unbearable.

A film's setting confined to a single room poses a herculean challenge to the actors and the directors, who must rely on strong performances and a solid script to shoulder the dramatic tension. Fortunately for the cast (and audience) the Elkabetz siblings know precisely how to keep the camera movements unobtrusive and make the audience both spectator and participants in the hearings.

Outstanding performances are uniform. Ronit Elkabetz herself is unforgettable as Viviane. So often we see weariness, anger and exasperation on her beautifully mysterious face, which conveys much of her character. Her eyes and the jet black hair are so expressive and so striking, it takes little effort for the audience to share her agony.
But the rest of the cast also more than meet the challenge with astonishing performances of their own. Abkarian is exceptional as the immovable husband while Sasson Gabai and Menashe Noy are riveting as dueling attorneys who are caught up in the emotional firestorm.

As months become years, the hearings continue ad nauseam as the court summons witnesses from both parties to assert or deny the marriage's soundness. Some witnesses who appear to testify for one party inadvertently help the cause of the other. Viviane's brother appears on her behalf, only to present testimony supporting her husband. Viviane's sister also offers testimony, which quickly degenerates into a funny monologue that neither helps nor hinders the hearings.

And as the hearings become a protracted ordeal, Elisha's remains steadfast and in being so, we cannot but empathize with Viviane. We also recognize the weight that Viviane and women bear in world courts where rule of law is based on religious dogma that inevitably minimalizes women's rights.

The question that we ask ourselves throughout the film is whether Viviane will ever be granted a divorce. I never divulge an ending and I won't do it here. All I will say is that I left the theater feeling ambivalent about the outcome but a film like Gett would feel false if it had ended in any other way.

The setting is very austere, as is the strategic lack of color. Black and white hues pervade. We even see the absence of color in Viviane's courtroom attire until a visually arresting, feminine red dress makes a powerful statement; defying the masculine blacks and whites both judges and advocates wear defensively. Eventually, Viviane's sartorial expression expires until she too is bullied into a black and white compliance.

Gett is so well conceived and the story executed so compellingly it is hardly premature to say it will be among the year's best. It is an unforgettable film with an unforgettable heroine, whose dignified opposition to the court and its inherently monolithic, religiously-based, female-hostile laws serves as one of the more courageous battles I've seen in cinema in some time.

This is a great film; no doubt about it.