More Oscars bait
"Whip" Whitaker (an Oscar-nominated Denzel Washington) is not bad at this aeroplane piloting lark, managing to flip a nosediving plane upside down in order to land it relatively safely in a bonkers and gripping sequence at the beginning of Flight. Unfortunately Whip is also rather fond of the sauce, amongst other substances. As the airline's lawyer (Don Cheadle) coolly informs him, America is the most generous country in the world regarding blood alcohol levels and he was still three times over the limit - and that's for driving a car. This film must rank as one of the best anti-drink drive ads of all time. (Except that Whip appears to fly well because of the drink and drugs rather than despite them, but we'll ignore that.)
Needless to say, after the accident the twin pressures of sudden celebrity and potential lawsuits begin to take their toll, and Washington holds a slightly patchy movie together with a measured performance. The script gives more scope for showiness to the supporting cast, especially Kelly Reilly's recovering addict who meets Whip at a similar life crossroads after a drug overdose, although she's heading in the opposite direction. Reilly can go from warm and luminous to haunted and skeletal with ease, the abruptness of some of these switches appearing to be down to the editing rather than her.
Director Robert Zemeckis sometimes paints the baggage of addiction with rather broad brushstrokes. Many of the soundtrack selections are clunkingly obvious (Under The Bridge for a smack-taking scene anyone?), and we never get too down and dirty into the dregs of Whip's life. Conversely, an edgy humour is often present, especially in scenes involving John Goodman's berserk buddy-cum-dealer and a knowingly OTT airline owner.
Flight is somewhat unbalanced as a result, and most of the best sequences come either at the beginning (the crash, obvs, and a fat line disappearing right up Denzel's nose in the opening scene) or in the closing stages, but the payoff ties things up nicely and is just about worth making the full journey for.
On the surface, the obvious connection between Django and Lincoln is the whole slavery thing, except that the two films are so different that you might as well say the link is Walton Goggins, who appears in both and who I felt like mentioning purely because he was so great in The Shield. (My blog, my rules.)
Other comparisons have been to such modern political-themed works as The West Wing, which are somewhat misleading in that Lincoln is a period piece and therefore features very different forms of political dialogue. As fond as President Bartlett and co were of a bit of speechifying, they have nothing on Daniel Day-Lewis's Honest Abe, whose love of parables is enough to provoke one of his cabinet to storm out of the room in exasperation.
Lincoln depicts an age when politicians weren't afraid to talk candidly and at great length (although see next paragraph) - when the public memorised entire speeches rather than pithy soundbites. All this dialogue takes a good while to get used to, and the film only really came to life for me once we visited the floor of the House of Representatives for the first time, which resembles a combination of courtroom, bar-room and a particularly raucous members' club.
The question of honesty is at the movie's heart. Lincoln is the arch-pragmatist who knows what needs to be done to achieve his goal of abolishing slavery. Meanwhile, Thaddeus Stevens (a delightfully gruff Tommy Lee Jones) is a firebrand who desires nothing less than equal rights for all, an inconceivable notion to most of his fellow citizens. Abe of course needs Stevens on his side in order to pass his amendment in the House, and Stevens wrestling with his conscience is the most effective thing here.
As for the President himself, to say Day-Lewis delivers a convincing portrayal is to state the obvious, and indeed the actor has somewhat fallen into the trap of being so consistently good that it's hard to to be surprised by him anymore. There have also been criticisms of his characterisation as being too mannered and reverential, but again this is rather a no-win situation. If he didn't wear the hat or employ the stoop then more people would complain about the portrayal not being sufficiently authentic.
Because this is based on a book subtitled "The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln", it's an illuminating portrait of Lincoln at work rather than shedding too much light on Lincoln the man. Indeed, the domestic scenes involving his wife and son - the former still grieving over the loss of their eldest child in the war, the latter stubbornly intent on following in his older brother's footsteps regardless - could easily be removed without detracting much from the story.
Ultimately, at its heart this is a tried-and-tested Quest Movie - Abe's goal of passing the 13th Amendment, which can only be done while the Civil War is still going, is initially derided as an impossible fantasy, but against all odds he somehow succeeds. That the film itself succeeds as a serious and thoughtful piece of work is down to Steven Spielberg basically staying in the background, lighting scenes in a low-key way and letting a fine cast get on with delivering Tony Kushner's script. Only the score is occasionally intrusive, and this is hardly as major a flaw as some have suggested.
A very good film rather than a game-changer, but more deserving of the Best Picture statuette than any of the others I've seen so far. Next up: Zero Dark Thirty, and most probably a rant about torture and stuff. Apologies in advance.
Needless to say, after the accident the twin pressures of sudden celebrity and potential lawsuits begin to take their toll, and Washington holds a slightly patchy movie together with a measured performance. The script gives more scope for showiness to the supporting cast, especially Kelly Reilly's recovering addict who meets Whip at a similar life crossroads after a drug overdose, although she's heading in the opposite direction. Reilly can go from warm and luminous to haunted and skeletal with ease, the abruptness of some of these switches appearing to be down to the editing rather than her.
Director Robert Zemeckis sometimes paints the baggage of addiction with rather broad brushstrokes. Many of the soundtrack selections are clunkingly obvious (Under The Bridge for a smack-taking scene anyone?), and we never get too down and dirty into the dregs of Whip's life. Conversely, an edgy humour is often present, especially in scenes involving John Goodman's berserk buddy-cum-dealer and a knowingly OTT airline owner.
Flight is somewhat unbalanced as a result, and most of the best sequences come either at the beginning (the crash, obvs, and a fat line disappearing right up Denzel's nose in the opening scene) or in the closing stages, but the payoff ties things up nicely and is just about worth making the full journey for.
* * * * *
On the surface, the obvious connection between Django and Lincoln is the whole slavery thing, except that the two films are so different that you might as well say the link is Walton Goggins, who appears in both and who I felt like mentioning purely because he was so great in The Shield. (My blog, my rules.)
Other comparisons have been to such modern political-themed works as The West Wing, which are somewhat misleading in that Lincoln is a period piece and therefore features very different forms of political dialogue. As fond as President Bartlett and co were of a bit of speechifying, they have nothing on Daniel Day-Lewis's Honest Abe, whose love of parables is enough to provoke one of his cabinet to storm out of the room in exasperation.
Lincoln depicts an age when politicians weren't afraid to talk candidly and at great length (although see next paragraph) - when the public memorised entire speeches rather than pithy soundbites. All this dialogue takes a good while to get used to, and the film only really came to life for me once we visited the floor of the House of Representatives for the first time, which resembles a combination of courtroom, bar-room and a particularly raucous members' club.
The question of honesty is at the movie's heart. Lincoln is the arch-pragmatist who knows what needs to be done to achieve his goal of abolishing slavery. Meanwhile, Thaddeus Stevens (a delightfully gruff Tommy Lee Jones) is a firebrand who desires nothing less than equal rights for all, an inconceivable notion to most of his fellow citizens. Abe of course needs Stevens on his side in order to pass his amendment in the House, and Stevens wrestling with his conscience is the most effective thing here.
As for the President himself, to say Day-Lewis delivers a convincing portrayal is to state the obvious, and indeed the actor has somewhat fallen into the trap of being so consistently good that it's hard to to be surprised by him anymore. There have also been criticisms of his characterisation as being too mannered and reverential, but again this is rather a no-win situation. If he didn't wear the hat or employ the stoop then more people would complain about the portrayal not being sufficiently authentic.
Because this is based on a book subtitled "The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln", it's an illuminating portrait of Lincoln at work rather than shedding too much light on Lincoln the man. Indeed, the domestic scenes involving his wife and son - the former still grieving over the loss of their eldest child in the war, the latter stubbornly intent on following in his older brother's footsteps regardless - could easily be removed without detracting much from the story.
Ultimately, at its heart this is a tried-and-tested Quest Movie - Abe's goal of passing the 13th Amendment, which can only be done while the Civil War is still going, is initially derided as an impossible fantasy, but against all odds he somehow succeeds. That the film itself succeeds as a serious and thoughtful piece of work is down to Steven Spielberg basically staying in the background, lighting scenes in a low-key way and letting a fine cast get on with delivering Tony Kushner's script. Only the score is occasionally intrusive, and this is hardly as major a flaw as some have suggested.
A very good film rather than a game-changer, but more deserving of the Best Picture statuette than any of the others I've seen so far. Next up: Zero Dark Thirty, and most probably a rant about torture and stuff. Apologies in advance.
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