Taking Care of Business.

A review of Get Low.

There are certain pleasures in life, like soaking in a hot, relaxing bath until your fingers are prune-y, that you don’t always make time for, but when you actually do, you never regret it. Seeing Get Low is one of those pleasures. Get Low, written by Chris Provenzano (story and screenplay), C. Gaby Mitchell (screenplay) and Scott Seeke (story) and directed by Aaron Schneider (Oscar winner in 2004 for the short live action film Two Soldiers), is the epitome of what an independent film should be: an affecting, original, character-driven story that doesn’t require the distraction of car chases or massive CGI to entertain the viewer. Get Low is memorable for its unique characters, its atypical setting, its remarkable performances and the overall high level of creativity and craft with which it is executed.

Set in 1935 in East Tennessee, Get Low is based on the true tale of legendary hermit Felix “Bush” Breazeale (Robert Duvall) and the funeral party he threw for himself while still living. Get Low explores how the much-feared and reviled Felix planned and executed the shindig at which he raffled off his sizeable parcel of land. He finds willing accomplices in his strange endeavor to “get low” aka “get down to business” in the fiscally savvy Frank Quinn (Bill Murray), owner of Quinn Funeral Homes and Frank’s honest, good-hearted apprentice, Buddy (Lucas Black). As part of Felix’s journey to reconcile his life, he encounters and must make peace with Mattie Darrow (Sissy Spacek), a woman from his past, and Reverend Charlie Jackson (Bill Cobbs), among others.

While Get Low presents Felix as a typical mean old coot, a role he is all too happy to play to the general public, the beauty of the film is in peeling back Felix’s layers to reveal his unexpected back story. Get Low refreshingly refuses to spoon feed its audience. Instead, it utilizes the kind of detailed storytelling that requires the viewer to pay close attention. (A word of warning, however, that close attention must also be directed to the sound, as some dialogue is softly delivered and easy to miss.) Such attention is rewarded by a cleverly written, beautifully shot, skillfully directed, intimate film. The ambling pace and drawn out revelation of Felix’s history may feel a bit slow at times, but this is probably more due to the hyberbolic, hyperactive expectations of cinema that pre-fabricated movies like Clash of the Titans and Transformers have engendered in us. In the viewing of Get Low, patience has its virtues.

Among those many virtues are the strong, entertaining performances of the entire cast. Robert Duvall is heartbreakingly hilarious as Felix. As written, the character is singularly unique, and as brought to life by Mr. Duvall, he is engaging, infuriating at times and even charming at others. Bill Murray is pitch-perfect as the proprietor of Quinn Funeral Homes. Mr. Murray conveys more in a wordless moment than some actors can in an entire performance. His timing, both comic and dramatic, is impeccable, and he skillfully balances Frank’s self-interested and altruistic tendencies with subtlety. Sissy Spacek elevates an already top-notch cast -- her Mattie’s presence is warm, her soul so sad. Lucas Black’s Buddy is described by Frank as the “heart of Quinn Funeral Home,” but he could also aptly be described as the heart of the film. Buddy is a character who could have been cloying in his earnestness, but instead, Mr. Black underplayed him, making him someone you want to spend more time with on the screen. Finally, if Buddy is the heart of the film, then Bill Cobbs’ Charlie is its moral center, but without being preachy (remarkable for one playing a reverend) or self-righteous. Mr. Cobbs gives a memorable, biting performance.

Get Low is the kind of movie that reminds you that filmmaking is an art. It’s a film that nicely weaves together moments of humor with moments of darkness. So get ahead of the curve in this year’s Oscar prognosticating and jump into the darkness of your local theater to see Get Low when it opens (on July 30, 2010). Join me in sending a message to the “greenlighters” of movies to make more of this kind of film: (To paraphrase Felix Bush): “No damn trespassing [on our intellect.] Beware of mule.”

Seminal Issue.

A review of The Kids Are All Right.

My take on The Kids Are All Right (“TKAAR”), written by Lisa Cholodenko (Laurel Canyon, High Art) and Stuart Blumberg (The Girl Next Door, Keeping the Faith) and directed by Lisa Cholodenko, can aptly be compared to my feelings about the Obama presidency thus far: it was eagerly anticipated and highly touted, but, likely because expectations were so high, it failed to live up to the hype. While there are a fair number of elements to enjoy, appreciate and even admire, overall, the experience of seeing TKAAR, like the experience of being led by the Obama administration, isn’t all it was cracked up to be.

TKAAR tells the story of a long-married lesbian couple, Nic (Annette Bening) and Jules (Julianne Moore), who have two teenagers, Joni (Mia Wasikowksa) and Laser (Josh Hutcherson) and the disruption to the harmony of their family caused by newly-18-year-old Joni’s decision, at younger brother Laser’s urging, to seek out the sperm donor who “fathered” them. The donor, Paul (Mark Ruffalo), is more than happy to make contact with the kids and tries to establish a relationship with each member of the family, who respond with varying degrees of receptiveness. The drama plays out over the summer before Joni is to leave for college. The summer is fraught with tensions and fears over what growing up and moving on means for everyone, which are only exacerbated by the introduction of interloper Paul.

TKAAR is a smartly written, sharply directed film with rich, flawed, multi-dimensional characters. It captures the growing pains of a family wrestling with the adolescence of not only its children, but also its marriage, in a realistic and heartfelt manner. TKAAR does a particularly good job of depicting the struggle, through Joni, of a kid on the precipice of adulthood trying to differentiate herself from her family unit and overcome the anxiety wrapped up in leaving the proverbial nest. Joni’s dramatics feel a bit over-the-top at times, but then again, so do most teenage girls.

Less successful is the portrayal of the stagnation of a long-term marriage. From the first scene, Jules felt like she was another of Nic’s children (which was likely due in equal parts to the way the character was written and the way Julianne Moore chose to play the role), and given how whiny and self-indulgent they both were, it was difficult to see what made them ever work as a happy couple. There were moments during the film when I consciously wondered who I was rooting for, because none of the characters were likeable. For me, this was the central weakness of the film. I enjoy watching flawed, complex characters, but my personal preference is to have a character to get behind. For the most part, Joni was that type of character and occasionally Nic was as well, but Jules became so frustrating to watch that she was no longer funny.

There is, however, a great deal of humor in the film. TKAAR successfully uses levity to lighten the load that the heavy themes impose. And the performances are tremendous. Annette Bening is terrific as Nic; she truly inhabits her role and made me love her in the end despite her flaws. Mark Ruffalo disappears into his portrayal of Paul and made a very selfish, unlikeable character entertaining to watch. Both Mia Wasikowska and Josh Hutcherson made their teenage characters relatable, sympathetic and layered. The weakest link was Julianne Moore’s Jules, also the most difficult character to capture. Jules is a free spirit who hasn’t quite grown up and there were scenes where Ms. Moore achieved authenticity in her performance and other scenes where Jules felt more like a caricature, as though Ms. Moore was playing at her rather than playing her, which made it much more difficult to relate to Jules.

In the end, the movie for me paralleled Ms. Moore’s performance -- it was strong in parts, but just didn’t always hit its mark. I have mixed feelings about TKAAR. It’s the kind of movie that I feel like I’m supposed to love, but didn’t. What I do love is that a movie like TKAAR, an independent film with a smart script that has a point of view, is being made (especially in this summer schlockfest we are in the midst of). TKAAR is certainly far more worthy of viewing than at least 90% of what’s at the box office right now. The higher my expectations for a film, the higher my standards are. So I encourage you to check it out TKAAR and other indie films for yourself. Because just like with the Obama administration, there’s always hope that the next thing will fulfill, or even exceed, our expectations.

Lotso Good Buzz

A review of Toy Story 3.

There are some things you can always count on: You will always spill something dark and sticky on white pants; you will always be hungry half an hour after eating Chinese food; and you will always, always leave the theater smiling (and probably humming) when you go to see a Pixar movie. Toy Story 3, written by Michael Arndt (Little Miss Sunshine), John Lasseter (Cars, Toy Story 2, Toy Story), Andrew Stanton (WALL-E, Finding Nemo, Monsters, Inc.) and Lee Unkrich (Finding Nemo, Monsters, Inc., Toy Story 2) and directed by Lee Unkrich, continues Pixar’s unblemished streak of original, clever and downright moving films.

Set about ten years after Toy Story 2 (which approximates real time, as it was released in 1999), Toy Story 3 continues the story of Andy and his toys, following the consequences for all of them of Andy’s imminent departure for college. Because Andy must pack up his entire room to make way for little sister Molly to move in, Andy is confronted with the difficult decision of what to do with toys that no longer plays with, but which still hold a great deal of sentimental value. And by the same token, his toys, corralled as always by steadfast leader Woody, must survive a dangerous adventure into the unexpectedly hostile territory of a local daycare center. Themes of duty, loyalty and selflessness play prominently amidst the amusing hijinx of old favorites Buzz Lightyear, the Potato Heads, Rex, Slinky Dog, new friends Ken and Chatter Telephone and many, many others.

I should provide a disclaimer, in case you couldn’t already tell, that I am an unabashed lover of Pixar movies. As far as I’m concerned, Up was the best film of 2009. I think that the artists and writers at Pixar handle story and character better than just about any filmmakers -- including both animated and live action films. Toy Story 3 is yet another example of their ability to create sophisticated stories that entertain at multiple levels and appeal to children and adults of all ages. There are great callbacks, winks and nods to adults and some of the funniest “potty” humor -- which will appeal to both sixty and six-year-olds.

The vocal talent employed for every character is outstanding. Tom Hanks and Tim Allen infuse Woody and Buzz with warmth and heart and inhabit them, never allowing their own personas to overshadow the characters. Newcomer-to-the-franchise Ned Beatty is terrific as Lotso, as is everyone new (Michael Keaton as Ken, Timothy Dalton as Mr. Pricklepants) and old (Don Rickles as Mr. Potato Head, Estelle Harris as Mrs. Potato Head, Wallace Shawn as Rex, John Ratzenberger as Hamm, etc. etc. etc.). The animation is vibrant and exciting. In particular, the specificity of the movement and detail of the Ken and Barbie dolls was impressive. However, I will note that I saw the 3D version and don’t know that my visual experience was significantly enhanced by it; the 2D version should be just as enjoyable (especially given the sky high price for 3D movie tickets).

Toy Story 3 should also be just as enjoyable for someone who has never seen the first two movies in the Toy Story franchise as for someone who has. While I’ve seen both films, it’s been many years since I’ve watched either and it did not detract from my movie-going experience. Toy Story 3 is more than just a fun movie, it shares important lessons about sticking by your friends, doing for others and knowing when to let go. Only the most cynical will not be made a little bit misty by the end of the film, but it’s not a sadness that weighs upon the heart, rather, a recognition of a shared experience that resonates. You are only depriving yourself if you choose not to see Toy Story 3; is the first must-see movie of the summer, if not the year.

Queen for a Day... or 23,227

A review of The Young Victoria.

Like a rich, high quality milk shake, The Young Victoria is the kind frothy good fun with substance that makes me grin. It will appeal to anyone who enjoys seeing a well-made film, but it will particularly delight those who are fans of historical dramas and/or intelligent romances. Written by Julian Fellowes (Gosford Park) and directed by Jean-Marc Vallée, The Young Victoria is a wonderful film that makes for an immensely-satisfying movie-going experience. While it will not thrill or surprise you with plot twists, it will more than entertain for each of its 100 minutes with a well constructed story that is well paced, well cast and well acted.

The title of The Young Victoria is fairly self-explanatory to its plot: it tells the story of Queen Victoria's ascent to the throne of England's monarchy from a year before her coronation through her early missteps as a young, inexperienced queen to her love affair with and eventual marriage to Prince Albert. The film focuses on the relationships that Victoria (Emily Blunt) developed with various influential figures in her life – from her mother (Miranda Richardson) to her governess (Jeanette Hain) to her uncle, King William IV (Jim Broadbent), whom she succeeded, to Lord Melbourne (Paul Bettany) to Prince Albert (Rupert Friend) to finally, last, but not least, her beloved King Charles Spaniel, Dash.

Emily Blunt is terrific as Victoria. She plays the stages of her maturation in a realistic, sympathetic way, believably conveying the charming and self-possessed attractive side of Victoria, as well as the thoughtful and uncertain side and the less attractive impulsive and obstinate aspects of her character. The one area of weakness in Ms. Blunt's performance was her portrayal of the young, almost-childlike, sheltered Victoria in the pre-coronation part of the tale. It was simply harder to buy, as Ms. Blunt's appearance and demeanor is naturally a bit more mature. The rest of the cast was similarly strong. It was not at all difficult to imagine how Victoria could have fallen head over heels for Rupert Friend's (Chéri) Prince Albert. He managed to convey a great deal not only through his words, but through his soulful eyes that mesmerized from behind a mess of facial hair that made him unrecognizable to this passionate Pride & Prejudice (2005) fan as the nefarious Mr. Wickham from that production. Similarly, Paul Bettany so inhabited the role of Lord Melbourne that he was unrecognizable – in a good way. And Jim Broadbent deserves special mention for his portrayal of King William IV – he was simultaneously hilarious and frighteningly out of control at certain moments.

Those moments of King William IV's royal bellowing may provide the only true suspense to anyone who knows anything at all about British History, but you do not choose to see a movie like The Young Victoria to find out what will happen next, but rather to experience how the story will unfold, and the film tells its tale splendidly. The masterful pacing of the story is a credit both to Mr. Fellowes and Mr. Vallée. The use of the correspondence between Victoria and Albert to frame the story in narration worked very nicely and was well-balanced; it never felt overdone. In fact, no aspect of the story ever felt dwelled upon for too long. The Young Victoria was the rare movie whose end came before I was ready for it to be over. I would've gladly spent more time with Queen Victoria, especially if it meant gazing further upon Mr. Friend's Albert.

Lovely though he may be, Mr. Friend was not the only delightful sight in The Young Victoria. One expects the costumes in a period film to be elaborate, but the costumes in this movie (designed by Sandy Powell, Oscar Winner for The Aviator and Shakespeare in Love) were exquisite: intricate without being overblown and memorable without overshadowing the characters. Of particular note is the rose-adorned gown Victoria wears to the first ball after her coronation. Were I ever to have the opportunity to attend a royal ball, I believe that would be my first choice in attire.

Barring an opportunity to attend a royal ball with Mr. Friend, seeing The Young Victoria is a first rate way to spend an evening. The movie does not open for even limited release until December, but we (that would be the "royal we") highly recommend that you seek it out when it does.

The Boys Are Back... and So Am I

A review of The Boys Are Back.

[Apologies for the extremely long gap between reviews. With the awards season for films heating up once again, this site will be updated on a much more regular basis.]

Seeing The Boys Are Back, adapted by Alan Cubitt from a memoir by Simon Carr, and directed by Scott Hicks (Shine, Snow Falling on Cedars), is kind of like having a store-bought chocolate chip cookie. It doesn't quite rate the way a homemade chocolate chip cookie does, but when you're really in the mood for a cookie, it satisfies the craving and you don't regret eating it afterward. The Boys Are Back, possibly the most unfittingly-titled movie in recent memory (seriously, is there anyone who doesn't automatically think of the identically-named song as well as the Woody and Buzz sequence in Toy Story that uses that song when you hear the title?), is a quality film that you will in no way regret seeing, but I boldly venture to predict that it will not be the best film you will see in 2009. Clive Owen's performance, on the other hand, may soon enough be advertised as "award-winning," and award-worthy it is, but we'll get to that in due time.

The Boys Are Back tells the story of Joe Warr (Clive Owen), a successful sports journalist who loses his young wife, Katy (Laura Fraser), to cancer and is left to cluelessly raise his six-year-old son, Artie (Nicholas McAnulty), on his own. Joe's parenting philosophy to "just say yes" and live in "hog heaven" works for a while, until the arrival of Joe's fifteen-year-old son from a previous marriage, Harry (George MacKay). Harry's visit both complicates and illuminates the inadequacies of Joe's parenting style, forcing Joe to confront the damage he has inflicted with the mistakes that he has made and continues to make.

Clive Owen gives a remarkable performance as Joe, as he brings real humanity and soul to the role. There are times when Joe does or says things that are patently unlikeable and it's a credit to Mr. Owen's talent (as well as Mr. Hicks' direction) that you still root for Joe to turn it around, make the better choice, say the right thing, even in those moments. George MacKay (seen most recently giving a noteworthy performance in Defiance) also merits special mention for his portrayal of Harry. As Harry, Mr. MacKay conveyed such an enormous amount of heartache and heartbreak merely through a doleful look at his father that I challenge you not to have the impulse to want to hug him fiercely. And while Mr. McAnulty did a fine job as little Artie, his large role in the film reminded me of the many reasons why I generally dislike child actors, through no fault of their own. I find that, with few exceptions, child actors tend to be coached into being a version of themselves onscreen and thus occasionally their performances feel false, and this was such a case. There were moments when Artie would say or do something to his dad that was designed to have a particular impact, and I would have to force myself to focus on watching Joe so as not to feel quite as manipulated.

Another form of manipulation that The Boys Are Back relied upon was the device of a narration that bookended the film. I found it unnecessary and distracting. Some narrators have their place and add something beyond exposition to their stories with their disembodied voices. Unfortunately, not so much with Mr. Owen's narration. While it was helpful in delineating Joe's terribly sad situation quickly, it felt somehow out of sync with the tone of the rest of the movie. In addition, I wasn't crazy about the choice to have Joe actually see and converse with his deceased wife in certain situations – it also felt like a manipulative device. I admit that I could be biased by the esteem I hold for HBO's Six Feet Under and its skillful use of that contrivance, but I did find it to be an overt way for Joe to express sentiments that otherwise might not have been verbally explicated. I contend that they might not have needed such explication, as we the audience could have been trusted to understand what was being spelled out by watching and connecting with the emotion of the surrounding scenes.

In addition to being comprised of well-constructed, emotionally rich scenes, the physical scenery of the film was exquisite. Shot in South Australia and England, The Boys Are Back was beautifully shot and contains a number of visually stunning sequences. But despite the fact that you may have recognized while watching that you enjoyed what you were looking at, the film never felt like it was showing you the story, rather, it kept you involved in the story. You really felt that you knew the individuals and their relationships and their pain, which is a credit to the great skill of Mr. Hicks' direction.

Mr. Hicks also did an excellent job balancing the tone of The Boys Are Back. It is a tragic story that doesn't wallow in its tragedy, but rather, embraces a fair amount of humor and even a few heartwarming moments, particularly in the development of the relationship between the two brothers. Mr. Hicks also did a nice job of pacing what could've been a very slow film. It feels a bit long in the first half or so, but picks up nicely after that.

Overall, The Boys Are Back is more than worth your time, but be forewarned that while it may win awards for its performances, it will not win the moniker of the "feel good movie of 2009." And if you in any way possess any neat-freak or obsessive-compulsive tendencies, the kitchen scenes may have you re-classifying this film from the "drama" category to the "horror" genre.

Graphic Film

A review of Waltz With Bashir.

Waltz With Bashir is a unique film that is both watched and experienced, the kind of art that does far more than entertain. It is advertised as an “animated documentary,” but the filmmaker himself, Ari Folman, admitted that it would more accurately be described as an “animated autobiography.” (I was privileged to attend a screening of the film that featured a Q&A session with Mr. Folman afterward.) Mr. Folman also described Waltz With Bashir as an “anti-war film.” It succeeds as both, opening the door to allow us to witness a part of Mr. Folman’s life that he could understandably have preferred not to think about, let alone share, and in so sharing, he deeply impacts his audience with his very personal chronicle of the senselessness and horrific cost of war. While seeing Waltz With Bashir may only take up 87 minutes of screen time, it will occupy your mind for far longer.

Waltz With Bashir tells the story of Mr. Folman’s journey to recover suppressed memory of certain of his time served in the Israeli army. Mr. Folman was a soldier during Israel’s 1982 war against Lebanon and was among those troops who advanced into West Beirut. It was during this campaign that Bashir Gemayel, senior commander of the “Phalangists” Christian militia, was elected President of Lebanon. Soon afterward, Bashir Gemayel was assassinated. In response, his Phalangist army, declaring their aim to be the purging of Palestinian fighters (who were suspected of committing the assassination), massacred large numbers of women, children and elderly Palestinians who were occupying the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps. The gaps in Mr. Folman’s memory pertained to his and his fellow soldiers’ role or lack thereof in that massacre. In order to fill in those holes, Mr. Folman reconnects with a number of men with whom he served and interviews them, attempting to use their recounting of their memories to jog his own.

From its opening moments, Waltz With Bashir jarringly demands your attention and very cleverly takes one into the film by introducing an illustration of the recurring war-related nightmare of one of Mr. Folman’s friends, which involves being chased by 26 rabid dogs. It is through his friend’s distorted memory that Mr. Folman confronts his own and sets about on his quest to set his own personal record straight. The film does take concentration to follow, particularly because there’s no set-up at the beginning to explain the history of events behind and during the 1982 Lebanon war. But the manner in which the information unfolded ultimately was more compelling than if it had been presented linearly, and I applaud Mr. Folman’s choice to challenge the audience rather than spoon-feed it.

Similarly, Mr. Folman challenges his audience to confront unsettling and ugly truths throughout the film. It was disquieting to hear the perspective of these men who served as Israeli soldiers so casually admit that in their youth, they were scared shitless and really didn’t know what they were doing. Disquieting because such statements could easily apply to any nation’s soldiers and put war in context: really, it must be what nearly every war is about for its combatants from the inside out. Even more disturbing was the parallel that a psychologist draws with Mr. Folman in a session depicted in the film regarding the complicity of the act of bystanding, because of the accuracy of that parallel. It was for me one of the most affecting moments of the film.

The medium utilized by Waltz With Bashir, Mr. Folman’s choice to animate this film, was likewise effective. It infuses a dreamlike quality to the illustration of the visions or hallucinations with which he and his friends had replaced certain actual memories. And it allows the audience to absorb certain disconcerting events without shutting down and distancing themselves. It also makes the last 50 seconds of the film all the more shocking and horrifying in contrast. The bottom line is that while Waltz With Bashir can feel somewhat slow and at times a bit arduous to watch, it’s worth the effort. Seeing this film will make you think and that’s a good thing.

Go Ahead, Make His Day

A review of Gran Torino.

Watching Gran Torino evoked the feeling you get when you watch a youngster take his first training-wheels-free ride on a bicycle – you hold your breath while he weaves and wobbles and fervently hope he can stay on without faltering, or worse, crashing, and when it’s over, it’s taken a little longer to get from point A to point B than it should’ve, but you applaud the accomplishment enthusiastically because all in all, it was an ambitious task completed with aplomb. Directed by Clint Eastwood (Letters from Iwo Jima, Million Dollar Baby) and written by Nick Schenk (with story credit to Dave Johannson and Nick Schenk), Gran Torino is a well-paced, engaging, affecting drama. As with a child’s maiden two-wheel voyage, Gran Torino pressed the line between success and disaster, as, at various times, it flirted with being overly-earnest, cartoonish or predictably stereotypical. Luckily for the audience, Mr. Eastwood is an incredibly skillful director, aided immensely on this project by his own substantial acting chops.

Mr. Eastwood plays Walt Kowalski, a freshly widowed, sharply grizzled Korean war vet living in the same house in which he raised his family. From the first moment you meet Walt (that’s “Mr. Kowalski” to you), his loneliness is palpable. With his wife gone, the most meaningful relationship he has is with his barber, who rivals him in crankiness. Walt’s bond with his two sons and their families is distant at best. His priest, Father Janovich (Christopher Carley), looks like he’s not old enough to drive, let alone legally consume the sacramental wine or tend his flock. Plus, Walt is an unrepentant racist sonofabitch, further isolating him from even the people in his neighborhood, which has changed over the many years he’s resided there and now consists largely of Hmong immigrants. So it surprises everyone, himself included, when Walt takes a shine to Thao (Bee Vang), the teenage boy next door (after Walt’s caught him trying to steal the prized 1972 Gran Torino of the film’s title), and develops a friendship with him and his sister, Sue (Ahney Her). Unfortunately, the transitioning character of the neighborhood has also included an infiltration of gang activity, and Walt can’t stop himself from getting to involved to protect his new friends, embroiling himself in a vicious, dangerous cycle of violence from which no good can ultimately come.

Mr. Eastwood’s portrayal of Walt is fully committed to the snarling nastiness of the bigot that lies at Walt’s core. But he equally allows the human side of Walt to seep through, the side made up of genuine goodness that desires a connection with people and sincerely wants to help. It is the precision of maintaining this balance that was so effective in preventing Walt from becoming cartoonish, in keeping Walt feeling real. Less effective was the aspect of Walt’s character that was haunted by his Korean war experience. Telegraphed by an ongoing push-pull with Father Janovich over whether Walt will fulfill his wife’s dying wish to go to confession, Mr. Eastwood doesn’t so much show us Walt’s feelings about his war experience as tell them, which gives us less to connect with.

What Mr. Eastwood does beautifully as a director, though, is show us how the various relationships at the center of Gran Torino develop. There was a poignancy and organic quality to the progression of Walt’s relationships with Thao, Sue, Father Janovich and even Thao and Sue’s grandmother (Chee Thao), who spoke no English. In particular, Walt’s relationship with the grandmother brought a little comic relief. Gran Torino is a serious, heavy tale and it was a great counterbalance that the script, direction and performances made use of humor to lighten things up, because otherwise seeing the movie would’ve been a ponderous experience.

But there were a number of flaws in the film. While the script did make good use of humor, some of the dialogue felt overwritten, almost novel-esque. A number of the characters did veer into the cartoonish realm – the degree to which Walt’s sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren were portrayed as selfish and self-centered was exaggerated; less would’ve been more. Further, in the hands of a lesser actor, I suspect that Walt would also have veered into this territory; Mr. Eastwood’s performance elevated the movie significantly. And while I applaud Mr. Eastwood for what appeared to be authentic casting of Hmong actors in the Hmong roles, several of the characters, particularly Sue and Thao, came off as a bit unnatural, particularly evident only because both of them shared so many scenes with the masterful Mr. Eastwood.

These flaws, however, do not amount to enough to interfere with one’s overall appreciation of Gran Torino. While it certainly isn’t the “feel good movie” of 2009, it’s a compelling tale that merits viewing on the big screen. Ride on over to your local theater and give it a test drive.