The Ides of March
Dir. George Clooney
George Clooney’s fourth turn in the director’s chair observes the inner workings of a Democratic primary. Steven Myers (Ryan Gosling) is an idealistic, wunderkind press secretary who works for Governor Mike Morris (Clooney), a diehard Democrat’s golden god. A political thriller, the film is tensely paced, solidly acted in its taut and economical dialogue. The flawless ensemble cast, including Philip Seymour Hoffman, Marisa Tomei, and Paul Giamatti, keeps the film from drowning in the melodrama and self-importance of American politics by avoiding moralistic heroics.
The film’s most glaring weakness is its treatment of the rather predictable realization that the seeming ruthlessness of politics is both provocative and revolutionary: Clooney sure does seem pretty pleased with his own cynicism, both as a performer and as a director. But the grandiose, Shakespearean portrayal of backhanded corruption and manipulation actually render it captivating enough to be forgiven for its more cumbersome missteps. You’ve learned these lessons before, but Gosling and Clooney, both weighty with charm and screen presence, ensure that you’ll be no worse for the wear to see them played out like this. — Elizabeth Haq
Headhunters
Dir. Morten Tyldum
Headhunters, a Norwegian thriller film, brings the trashy airport novel to life. However, ignoring action genre clichés is easy, as the movie delivers strokes of originality, with one clever scene after another. Yes, there are murdered prostitutes and yes, there are greedy, evil bad guys; but director Morten Tyldum is creative and thoughtful enough to produce a captivating, fun, and grossly over-the-top experience. The film’s hero is a guy with a hardcore short-man complex, who, over the course of the blood-drenched narrative, receives the ultimate lesson in confidence. When his tall, gorgeous wife, thirty-million-dollar home, and art-thievery escapades fall into jeopardy, our diminutive hero takes charge, and hits the road. At times, things can seem out of balance, as crude humour unexpectedly interrupts the darker themes of death and infidelity, and, at just over ninety minutes, the conclusion is brisk. With action flicks constantly being churned out, eager for your money, it’s nice to see a film that, while residing in familiar territory, also succeeds in providing good-quality thrills. — Jakob Tanner
Shame
Dir. Steve McQueen
Steve McQueen’s Shame is by all accounts a dark film. The darkness lies in the unflinching confrontation with the raw and often self-destructive nature of sexual desire gone awry. The film stars Michael Fassbender as Brandon, a man possesed of good looks and luxuries. Living behind a facade of sterile normalcy, Brandon masks his escalating and all-consuming desire for sexual gratification. His inability to emotionally connect with people manifests itself in his insatiable desire for pornography. Themes of alienation, virtual escapism, and the inability to maintain meaningful relationships are by no means new, but by stripping the film of any context, McQueen makes it difficult to come up with an easy pop-psychology explanation for Brandon’s behaviour. The audience never gets to know anything about Brandon – his sister’s acknowledgement that “we are not bad people, we just come from bad places,” serves as a cryptic clue into a seemingly troubled past; and therefore, all that remains is the unsettling glimpse at the pure force of dark, human desire. — Lily Tarba
Pina
Dir. Wim Wenders
Wenders, one of Germany’s most renowned postwar filmmakers, was a close friend of Pina Bausch, the German choreographer who paved the way for modern dance. Wenders’ 20+ year desire to shoot a documentary about Bausch hit a roadblock when she passed away in 2009. Despite her death, however, Bausch’s dance troupe was adamant to continue with the tribute.
The result is a 3D experience made up of loving anecdotes and expressive dance sequences. A musical/documentary hybrid, Pina takes the choreography of Bausch’s productions and repositions them in urban landscapes; the film is set against the backdrop of industrial buildings and side-streets where Bausch’s timeless art form is cemented.
The film does not offer any interviews, and those unfamiliar with Pina won’t learn about her back story. Instead, an essential understanding of space and its relation to the language of the body will be imparted. Less a biography than a catalyst for initiating interest in Pina’s work, Wenders’ film proves that 3D effects can triumph in areas besides CGI-saturated action. — Damanjit Lamba
Surviving Progress
Dir. Mathieu Roy, Harold Crooks
Surviving Progress, Mathieu Roy and Harold Crooks’ adaptation of Ronald Wright’s “A Short History of Progress,” is a respectable retelling of Wright’s predictions of impending societal collapse. With interviews from Margaret Atwood to Jane Goodall, the film focuses on the economic and ecological stresses of systems moving towards some great apocalyptic collapse.
While clever editing and apt use of stock footage make the film quite watchable, it tends to fall short intellectually. Some coherent themes, such as a dichotomy between biological and cultural evolution, are present through the film’s argument, but its attempt to deal with an enormously wide range of topics through several speakers ends up feeling scattered. The pitfalls of Ideology are offered as an explanation for the absence of a coherent argument but Surviving Progress, like its source material, seems to relish asking questions that it is afraid to answer. — Sam Bowman
Melancholia
Dir. Lars von Trier
Seeing a faux-apocalypse through the eyes of a dysfunctional family is probably the most painful way to express a loss of faith in humanity. The latest from Lars Von Trier, Melancholia, reveals that the Danish director is dealing with some heavy despair.
The film is essentially split into two chapters, one devoted to Justine’s (Kristen Dunst) reaction to the oncoming fly-by of the planet, and the other defined by her sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg). There is little dialogue or action amid the lush scenery of the nameless, guarded estate — adding to the family’s estrangement from the wider public. No news channels or headlines make it into the film, either — a welcome departure from the majority of films fixated on the end of the world. The film lacks any real confrontation but Von Trier is still able to infuse each scene with throngs of tension, as the family is distraught and cripplingly unable to articulate final thoughts and feelings. The end (when it does arrive) is momentous on a visual and audible level. With a classical score intensifying the day of reckoning, Melancholia is a film that really needs to be experienced in a grand, enveloping theatre. — Damanjit Lamba
