Showing posts with label Hans Zimmer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hans Zimmer. Show all posts

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Film Review: 12 Years a Slave (2013)

Here's who I really want to see this film: Quentin Tarantino and Steven Spielberg. The pair should be strapped into chairs, have their eyelids locked open a la Clockwork Orange, and be made to watch it over and over again until they begin screaming, "I get it! I get it!" The former will have learned that the history of American slavery is not a suitable subject for an action-comedy wankfest, and the latter will realize that a historical film about a grave and serious subject doesn't need to be buried under a pyroclastic flow of sentimentality, melodrama, bombastic music, and overripe production design.

12 Years a Slave is a harrowing true story about Solomon Northrup, a free black man living in Saratoga, New York, in 1841 who is kidnapped and sold into slavery in the South. Northup's story (the film is based on the book he wrote about his experiences) is filled with the historical tropes of American slavery--beatings, separation of families, sexual exploitation, rape, lynchings, and backbreaking labour. All of these crimes have been shown before in films about the pre-Civil War South, so don't be expecting to see something new on the subject of slavery. What makes this film so exceptional is its artistry.

Director Steve McQueen has made the brilliant decision to let the facts speak for themselves. The horrors of slavery are presented without undue emphasis or sentimentality. One scene early in the film shows a black mother being sold and thereby permanently separated from her two small children. It would have been easy to go the Spielberg route and turn the scene into something overblown, like an aria from a tragic opera, but McQueen lets the scene play out sans editorial comment, and it becomes all the more ghastly because it's underplayed. The director's restraint is even more evident at the end of the film when a single scene encompasses both Northrup's salvation as his white Northern friends find him and secure his release, and his parting from Patsey, a female slave who's the tormented concubine of her demented owner, played brilliantly by Michael Fassbender. Any other director would have dragged this sequence out for maximum emotional value, but McQueen positively whips through the scene and captures that bolt from the blue feeling Northup must have experienced. McQueen clearly made the decision that the facts of Northrup's enslavement needed no dressing up.

This is also a beautifully shot film. There's no sweeping camerawork, no overuse of filters to create gaudy sunrises and sunsets, there's just one beautifully composed shot after another. Like the script and the direction, the cinematography isn't trying to manipulate our emotions or hammer home plot points. And the same can be said for the music by Hans Zimmer, which sometimes has a jarring, almost science fiction-y sound to it that emphasizes Northrup's transition from freedom to slavery. The actors are all top-notch, although Brad Pitt's cameo felt more like a movie star doing a cameo than an actor tackling a role. And yet more credit for McQueen for his choice of Lupita Nyong'o as Patsey. She's beautiful, but most directors would have chosen a more conventionally attractive actor for the role, and they certainly would have played up her looks to explain why she becomes her owner's sex slave. So, needless to say, this is my choice for best film of the year, and I might have to rate it as one of the best films of the last ten years. That it should have to face off against trash like American Hustle and The Wolf of Wall Street for Oscars is a tragedy of another kind.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Film Review: The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

A confession: I haven't liked any of the Batman films. It hasn't mattered if it was Tim Burton, Joel Schumacher or Christopher Nolan doing the directing, I've found all of them fatuous, overblown and dreary. It turns out, however, that TDKR is the least annoying of the bunch. That doesn't mean it's good, just that it doesn't commit any epic blunders. It's worst sin is that it's utterly pedestrian. It's not dull, but it's not exciting; it's not dumb, but it's not clever; and the acting is competent, but not gripping.

The major improvement in Nolan's third crack at Batman is that the speechifying has been cut way back. The previous film, The Dark Knight, was stuffed with tedious, stilted orations about morality, personal responsibility, yadda, yadda, yadda. Each of the major characters got the chance to yak it up, and each time one of them opened their mouth the film ground to a halt. If this film's been greatly improved by a decrease in pretentious chatter, it's a bit surprising to report that the action elements have become weaker. We get some generic fistfights between Bane (the villain du jour) and Batman, Catwoman roughs up some people, and that`s about it. The action set-piece is supposed to be a fight between hundreds of cops and an equal force of Bane`s henchmen, but the sequence is practically over before it begins and it isn`t filmed with any visual imagination. All of the action is accompanied by Hans Zimmer's hyper-bombastic soundtrack, which is scored exclusively for tea kettle drums and tubas, and sounds like a symphonic ode to dinosaur flatulence. On the plus side, the pacing is good and the special effects are seamless.

A strippergram girl on the Planet Adolescentia
The mega-success of Nolan`s Batman films has always struck me as a bit surprising. I think the main reason for it is that Nolan`s films appeal to the demographic that takes their comic books very, very seriously. For decades comics were only of interest to kids and teens. In 1977 Heavy Metal magazine appeared in North America and the ground rules in the comic book industry changed. Heavy Metal was a mix of sci-fi and fantasy comics, all of them featuring copious amounts of violence, nudity and  rough sex. Batman`s Marquis of Queensbury rules-violence and chaste lifestyle couldn`t compete with Heavy Metal, at least among teen readers. Heavy Metal (and its imitators) also pulled in adult male readers, and suddenly the superheroes of the Marvel and D.C. universes had to get dark, dirty and serious to keep up with Joneses. It`s from that point onwards that "serious" superhero comics became an obsession amongst precocious 12-year-olds and thirtysomethings suffering from arrested intellectual development. And that's exactly the demographic, I suspect, that appreciates Nolan's approach, which, according to the fans, adds psychological depth to the superhero genre. The comic book people have finally found a director who takes their hero (and their obsessions) as seriously as they do.