The Devil's Double (2011)

      How crazy can a character be without even meaningfully touching on the horrific things the real person did before he was killed?
     Perhaps because The Devil's Double (2011) does not want to be so aggressively unpleasant, it shies away from more graphic and honest representations of Uday Hussein's many crimes against humanity.  Sure, he talks about them and there is some idea as to what the aftermath, but the end result is that baby Hussein feels more like a comic book villain than real-life terror.  Maybe that has something to do with the less than sinister giggle that Dominic Cooper gives him.
     Whatever its faults, The Devil's Double at least looks crisp, almost slick, when it delves into Uday's world.  It feels a little false that Baghdad has Beruit-like discotheques, or that cocaine is the drug of choice, but it is entirely possible that both represent an approximation of reality.  More to the point, those scenes seemed to be included to make The Devil's Double more analogous to Scarface (1983).  While those scenes look good, they take away much of the urgency that should be at the heart of the story.
     What is a man supposed to do when there is no appeal to justice, or even sanity?  That is what should be moving The Devil's Double forward, but occasionally the film seems to forget this.  The film's Iraq is run as a criminal enterprise, and Uday has little to do but abduct underage girls (to rape and have killed), drink and do drugs, and force a former classmate to both bear witness to his many crimes and act as a stand-in for the baby Hussein.  Latif (also Cooper) is given no choice but to become the property of Uday.  He has no one to trust and nowhere that can be a safe escape.
     It is also odd that Saddam Hussein is portrayed as a man who absolutely forbids anyone from harming his sons, is more than willing to brutalize Uday himself, but is largely restrained and disaffected.  While this adds to the feeling of him as a crime boss, it does not sell him as the murderous leader of a nation.  It is not clear how some of the people who work for the Husseins – both the quasi-virtuous and downright worthless – come to their positions because Saddam in never really shown doing or supervising anything.  His diminished presence makes the film feel too light.
     I would have liked for the movie to have been a little grittier and involved in the insanity of Uday.  Or even the toll Latif takes on just witnessing the events.  But The Devil's Double cannot find a satisfactory tone or consistent primary angle, and it ends up being an interesting disappointment.

Long Day's Journey into Night (1956*)

     I feel somewhat dirty when I'm hypercritical of Long Day's Journey into Night (published in 1956, but written in 1941-42).  I like the idea of an obtuse, intensely personal story being told in play format being a masterpiece.  Sure, mine isn't (and not just because it is in a sloppy screenplay format).  The problem that O'Neill has is that his play has not aged well.  More than that, because it was considered groundbreaking, many other authors have tackled similar stories and done so with much more ambition and clarity.  Compare Shepard's Buried Child to Long Day's Journey into Night and ask yourself which one has an element that better encapsulates the breakdown of family harmony in light of a secret.  O'Neill's work feels dated by the time it is published.
     Maybe that is exactly the problem.  The idea that a mother who has a morphine/heroin addiction is some kind of unbearable, unfaceable truth feels so suburban, so white middle-class.  It speaks of a lack of awareness of the world of the late 19th Century America; Sear & Roebuck used to sell heroin kits through the mail, legally, as a means to help people get off of morphine.  Clearly there was no shortage of usage.  So the entire crux becomes one of a reluctance to talk about what is actually wrong with Mary (and I'm sympathetic, because I did something similar – though much more awkwardly – in Without Distinction).  Well, that and how the Irish-American family of the era (there are no daughters, so we don't get to see them devalued as people) is not a particularly supportive unit.
     I saw this performed in 2002, though most of the cast was replaced when the production finally made it to Broadway.  At the time, the inconsistencies in the performance really bothered me.  Only Brian Dennehy failed to disappoint, and if he didn't look like he wanted to strangle his cast-mates, I would have tried to make it to the stage and ask him what the hell happened to make everything fall apart.  The rest of that cast was Pamela Payton-Wright as Mary (she was beyond awful, downright cringe-worthy), Steve Pickering as older brother Jamie (he was fine until the final act when he actually needed to be prompted for a line and nearly walked into another actor trying to hit his mark), David Cromer as younger brother Edmund (bad throughout, but consistent in that he wasn't so bad as to steal focus from Payton-Wright's disaster on stage), and Susan Bennett as a completely forgettable maid (so much so that I had almost no recollection of the scene where she has a fair amount of dialogue).  Really, the worst live show I've ever seen.  And I didn't know why.
     I think I do, now.  Long Day's Journey into Night isn't just reluctant to be about what it really is about, it is horribly overwritten when it comes to the directions for the characters.  All of them are in a constant, unflagging conflict with themselves.  While O'Neill was trying to show that there is an inner turmoil they cannot share (because of fear or pride?), the hurt always slips through and poisons the relationships with each other.  That is a powerful message utterly ruined when every other line a character has is there to show the duality.  It feels like watching a clan of supremely functional schizophreniacs who have to navigate a shared reality while beset with their own personal hells.  And not in an interesting way.
     What bothers me most about the play is that it has no sense of timelessness, which it should.  It is about the tensions that can destroy a family, how withholding love is more dangerous than any active hurt one can dish out.  But O'Neill has a need to make it so personal that it defies the audience (or in this instance, the reader) to give a damn.  Most of the plays I read last year were over 2300 years old and spoke to the human condition in an enduring manner.  O'Neill's play is less than 100 and is essentially a relic, and not a pleasant or fun one.  There may be something meaningful happening to the characters in the story, but O'Neill demands that the audience make all of the connections themselves, and dares them to give a damn in the end.  Quite frankly, I didn't.  And that is how I felt in 2002 as well.

There be Dragons (2011)

     It takes a fair amount of work to set out to tell four different stories and effectively illuminate none of them.  That is exactly what happens in Roland Joffé's There be Dragons (2011).  The audience gains no insight into the works and history of Opus Dei, the Spanish Civil War (1936-39), the Spanish aspect of the Terrible Triangle, or the relationship between the two central characters in the film.  Indeed, there is no rational reason for the characters to be linked.
     In what feels like the ultimate cheat, there is almost no definition given to the sides or conflict of the civil war.  Joffé, I assume, was going for a sense of confusion on the part of those living through the events, but those characters certainly would have had much more insight than what the film allows them.  Then there is the possibility that Josemaría Escrivá's (Charlie Cox) siblings may have died because of the flu pandemic of 1918, but no reason is given for their deaths.  Like the rest of the film, it feels both ill-informed and halfhearted. 
     Essentially, this should be the story of how a man spent his adult life trying to come to terms with the actions he took during the Spanish Civil War, which he relates to his estranged son.  For some reason, this story is mixed with a priest-on-the-run tale, and it is nowhere near as interesting as the real story must be.  Giving no character enough room to develop, There be Dragons moves ever onward towards the reveal that has nothing to do with the priest or Opus Dei.
     I found myself actively upset that this film was not done with a Spanish cast; I cannot explain why, except to say that it would have felt less artificial if the actors were at least Spanish or even speaking Spanish.  The budget seems to have been spent on a few set-pieces and not on making the scant war scenes look authentic (though I was very excited to see a Lancia IZM in action, that was ruined for me with the independent movement on the turret-mounted machine-guns).  The English speaking cast gives no urgency to the material, and they seem caught somewhere between a dull period piece and an ironic anti-war movie.
     This is a prime example of where bad reviews are a great indication that a film should be avoided.  It is largely a waste of time.  Read a book about Opus Dei or one written by its founder, like The Way.  Read about the Spanish Civil War.  But don't expect any insight into life, the Church, Opus Dei, or the Spanish Civil War from There be Dragons.  All you will get is some half-formed notions that don't develop into anything coherent.

Moneyball (2011) (Review)

     Moneyball (2011) does two things I would have thought impossible.  First, it makes the Oakland Athletics – the franchise that gave us the Bash Brothers (and a team that routinely abused the Red Sox in the late 1980s) and Jason Giambi – appear to be a likeable, earnest franchise that one would not feel dirty when cheering for.  Second, and much more impressively, it provides an opportunity for Brad Pitt to act – to take on a role with layers that demands a level of maturity in the portrayal – and not diminish the work of the other actors around him.
     Seriously, I find myself writing praise for Pitt.  Sure, I think that there are others who could have done a better job.  Occasionally Pitt affects a bit of a Western accent, and his mannerisms for compulsion – excepting the workout scenes – feel a little forced.  But on the whole, he gives a good performance and even elevates some of the work of those around him.
     Working opposite Pitt's Billy Beane is Jonah Hill as Peter Brand.  Hill is restrained in his performance (thank God!) and provides a decent counterpoint to Pitt's often fiery – even if it is only behind closed doors – Beane.  Hill makes Brand feel like a real person, learning the ropes about the human side of baseball and the rewards of being out in front of the curve in regards to player evaluation.  Philip Seymour Hoffman becomes manager Art Howe, though his role doesn't allow him to do much other than resist Beane and Brand's efforts to remake the team.
     There isn't anything tricky going on with the story or dialogue.  Beane has to find a way to win with a limited payroll and a support staff that believes in business as usual.  He has struggles with the owner and manager.  He doesn't get to spend a lot of time with his daughter, but when he does he doesn't want his work problems spilling over on her (my guess is that this was shown to humanize Beane, and while it was done with a deft touch I don't think it was necessary).  
     A good chunk of time in the film is dedicated to the A's winning streak of twenty games in 2002.  This part of the movie feels like it was added in later, but it still works.  Indeed, the mix of real-life footage and material shot just for the film make Moneyball the best looking (maybe most authentic) film about baseball that I have seen.  There is also no shortage of sound bites from so-called experts – Joe Morgan, I'm talking about you – who give praise to anyone but Beane and place all blame at his feet, which absolutely illuminates how little of what we think we know is based on anything other than what we are told.
     I think this is a good movie.  I saw that Entertainment Weekly gave it an A-, which sounds about right.  There are some weaknesses, but the overall product is so strong that it doesn't weigh the finished project down.  It may not have the ending that a typical Hollywood movie would devise for the story, but I think that makes it all the more worthwhile.