Category Archives: politics

Advise & Consent

When I was about 10 or 12 I started reading Allen Drury’s Cold War tales of political intrigue in Washington, D.C. He had such an imaginative way of retelling what the real life pundits and politicos tried to warn us were the true dangers of those villainous Soviets and Red Chinese.

Advise & Consent was the first and most famous of those novels, originally published in 1959 and made into a stage play before turning out this 1962 film version. Henry Fonda plays Robert Leffingwell, nominated to be Secretary of State by a (never named in the script) president, a very controversial choice, mainly because he ran afoul of a very senior southern senator several years before. Senator Seabright Cooley (played by Charles Laughton) does not like to be shown up, not hardly, and knows how to hold on to a grudge.

Leffingwell’s politics are, perhaps, a bit too liberal in what was a country barely passed the McCarthyite Era and sure enough Cooley uses a trick right out of that nasty playbook. The nomination also runs into the ambitious young senator named Van Ackerman (a very young George Grizzard) and the morality of the committee chairman, Lafe Smith (Don Murray, Smith is the junior senator from Utah so of course he’s called Brigham Anderson). Playing a Kennedyesque bachelor senator is Peter Lawford (who was the real ones’ brother-in-law) and also stuck in the middle is Walter Pidgeon as the loyal workhorse majority leader.

Directed by Otto Preminger and with a screenplay from Wendell Mayes, Advise & Consent wisely avoids explicitly stating to which party any of the politicians belong. Though if one were to suggest the majority (and all the main characters) were Democrats, I’d probably agree. Preminger made this movie at the height of his career, coming after the Sidney Poitier version of Porgy and Bess, the Jimmy Stewart thriller Anatomy of a Murder (with script also by Wendell Mayes) and Exodus, improbably starring Paul Newman in the dramatic journey of Holocaust survivors trying to get past nasty British soldiers into pre-Israel Palestine.

This film version is just okay, the novels were much better; Preminger and Mayes take the melodramatic portions of Drury’s novel and as much as possible avoid the political story. Fonda is barely seen in the first half and refuses to involve himself in the back room maneuvers surrounding his nomination. Laughton and Murray have the meatiest parts, though the few women present–mainly Gene Tierney and Inga Swenson–have juicy cameos.

moderately recommended

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Fight Club

Nearly a decade after its release I finally saw this 1999 Brad Pitt/Edward Norton cult classic that, more than anything else, reminds me of a dramatic version of Office Space. Both are highly negative looks at the life of a modern corporate worker, or white collar slave as Pitt’s character Tyler Durden calls them. I like to think that, with my focus on leading edge technology and preference for the startup life, neither movie is really talking about me but that could be simple self-deception.

Fight Club begins with The Narrator (Norton, whose character is never addressed by name) showing us how attending various 12 step and illness support group meetings is the only cure for his insomnia; he also meets fellow impostor Marla (Helena Bonham Carter), a woman who attends as many of these as him.

Then our boy (the character is referred to as The Narrator since throughout Fight Club he, well, narrates) returns from yet another pointless business trip to find his apartment in flames. Everything in it is a complete loss with firefighters struggling to contain the damage. This is just after (I think) he’s explained having a serious Ikea addiction.

On the flight he met Durden and with nowhere else to go he phones him to meet for a beer. A few drinks later Tyler gets the Narrator to admit his real purpose was to ask for a place to crash. Then Tyler asks to be punched and the club is born. Somehow word gets out and frustrated men (exclusively men) show up to join; the Narrator moves into the decrepit, off the map house Durden squats in and blackmails his boss into a no-show job, complete with lots of plane tickets, and local chapters get launched all over.

Meanwhile Durden and Marla hook up. Constantly and loudly, much to the Narrator’s annoyance, though the two don’t seem capable of a direct conversation and, even more annoying, use him as an intermediary.

In the final act of the movie, the club moves on to a direct assault on American business. If the job Norton’s character held early on was a 9mm handgun, Project Mayhem is a few tons of homebrew terrorist explosive. The Narrator finally wakes up to the Sixth Sense-ish twist on reality, perhaps a shade too late, though by then we’re (the audience) no longer able to decide what’s real and what’s, er, inside his head.

Novelist Chuck Palahniuk and scriptwriter Jim Uhls (his first feature credit, Uhls also wrote the recently released Jumper) took the humor of Bill Lumbergh’s constant deadpan reminders to turn in TPS reports, to work weekends, and said screw that, let’s just go right to the heart of the problem: modern workers allow themselves to be turned into nameless slaves kept passive through mindless consumerism built on top of advertising hammered right to their brain’s indiscriminating pleasure center.

Director David Fincher, who previously worked with Pitt in the nasty Se7en and will again in a new production of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Curious Case of Benjamin Button coming this Christmas, matches the visuals, particularly the sets, to the plot an dialog; that house Pitt and Norton share was an outstanding choice and the ways it changes over the course of the movie provides a mirror to the evolution of the Fight Club and the club members.

The three leads pull off some difficult acting assignments, the two men especially needing to be great to make the movie succeed and sell the last-innings twist. Meat Loaf has a great turn as a guy who connects with the Narrator early on at one of those support groups and then joins the club and both Zach Grenier and (a very dyed blonde) Jared Leto do well in smaller roles.

recommended

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City Hall

Hollywood used to turn out political potboilers on a regular basis but after Watergate and All the President’s Men the studios got all serious. Movies like The Insider and Syriana play it on the straight and serious and films like City Hall (1996) are rare throwbacks, dramas that run on melodrama and depend on ripping the innocence away from a key character who should already know better.

In this movie that character is New York City Deputy Mayor Kevin Calhoun (John Cusack), a good old Louisiana boy who moved from Washington to work for Mayor John Pappas (Al Pacino) after an inspirational day of testimony on the Hill. Back home in Faraday, he explains at one point to lawyer Marybeth Cogan (Bridget Fonda), politics was a disease every boy caught and Calhoun had a particularly bad case. Bad enough to believe that he could take Pappas to the White House in short order.

The reality the gets in the way is a Homicide detective off the radar taking a meeting with a small time hood–whose uncle is very much the mafia capo–and rather than talk the two trade bullets on a busy Brooklyn street corner. That wouldn’t be so bad, even though both men ended up dead, except that a six year old boy, being walked to school by his blue collar, black father, takes a stray round and also dies.

In the firestorm it turns out that the hood should have been upstate in prison except the mayor’s old law partner (Martin Landau) inexplicably signed off on a probation deal. Calhoun and Corgan, representing the deceased detective’s widow, dig deep and track the corruption through Brooklyn councilman/party boss Frank Anselmo (Danny Aiello).

More people die, though not anyone we really care about. The romantic tension between Cusack and Fonda though obvious never gets any energy. Pacino is terrific at playing characters like Pappas, serene on the surface but letting us know with a metaphorical wink darkness lurks nearby. Aiello is smooth to the end but seemed more excited during the scenes he got to sing snatches of show tunes with an old waiter than where he had to be the greasy pol.

The script originated with with Ken Lipper, a Wall Street exec who spent a few years as a New York Deputy Mayor (and in 2002 had his own financial scandal), and longtime journalist Nicholas Pileggi (who’d previously written the books that Goodfellas and Casino were based on) and then was worked over by Hollywood vets Bo Goldman (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Flamingo Kid, Scent of a Woman) and Paul Schrader (Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, The Mosquito Coast). With all that greatness and experience, well, I expected more and frankly I don’t blame the cast except Aiello and he has a relatively small part.

A possible clue is that City Hall was directed by Harold Becker, whose career rarely rose above the above average: Paul Newman in Malice, Pacino and Ellen Barkin in Sea of Love, and the then very young Tim Hutton, Sean Penn and Tom Cruise in Taps. IMDB says this has a run time of 111 minutes but 50 years ago the studio would have cut at least 15 minutes of flab.

recommended

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Breach

Chris Cooper and Ryan Phillipe face off as a young FBI investigator, not even yet a full Special Agent, and a 25 year veteran of the Bureau in a very dramatic retelling of the takedown of the worst betrayal by an American spy ever, Robert Hanssen. Sadly, as with so many fact-based films, this 2007 release isn’t quite able to deliver the suspense and dramatic tension of most made up stories.

Breach is intriguing but lacks the kind of heartpounding I generally want to get from thrillers. Throw in a difficult to accept subplot, pressure from Phillipe’s character’s wife about his assignment, and I think this movie just squeaks over the line to…

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The Good Shepherd

In his second directorial effort, Robert De Niro does not live up to the quality of A Bronx Tale, his first, nor his status as a god in the acting category. The Good Shepherd is a good movie when it sticks to telling us the spy side of the story but has two key problems that block it from being really good or excellent.

The problems: despite constantly shifting between the movie’s main time period, the weeks just before and after the Bay of Pigs fiasco in 1961, and an episodic look at how protagonist Edward Wilson (Matt Damon) grew from a Yale scholastic stud and poet into one of the CIA’s top leaders, there’s just too much wasted screen time in the nearly three hours this runs, and, second, Damon plays Wilson as if he were made of rock, which is terrific for a spy but terrible for what is a drama and not a Bourne-style thriller.

De Niro and scripter Eric Roth (Munich, Ali, The Insider, The Postman) are attempting to give us a retro-modern lesson on the founding of the Central Intelligence Agency (referred to as CIA, never “the CIA,” since as one character says late in the movie, you never say “the God”) via the Wilson viewpoint character. They feel we need to learn about Wilson as a person to give the Agency’s actions context and humanity so we see Edward as:

  • a college student at Yale, his induction into Skull and Bones, his only real love affair–with Laura, a lovely deaf Yale coed played by Tammy Blanchard–and his shotgun albeit career enhancing marriage to Clover Russell (Angeline Jolie), sister of a Bones mate and daughter of a US Senator, all in the two years before WWII;
  • his return home after spending the entire war in Europe to a wife with whom he has no emotional connection and a six year old son he’s never met and who he also never bonds with
  • a one night sexual reunion with that deaf woman, 18 years after their last date, after a chance meeting.

These scenes take up at least 45 minutes and probably closer to an hour, which could have been condensed to about 15 minutes without losing any of their plot setup or audience identifying effects.

Damon is generally quite capable of delivering a much better performance than we see here (Syriana, Good Will Hunting, The Departed, the Bourne trilogy) and I can only attribute the difference to De Niro’s instructions. Perhaps he wanted us to believe or understand that the spy’s need to display the ultimate poker face cannot be turned off and on at will; those willing to back up their extreme patriotism with ruthless dedication, that is, have little compunction in sacrificing family either, but instead of extraneous verbiage and scenes this could have been delivered in a few scraps of dialog. However, even in the scenes with Laura or his college poetry class, which I expect are intended to gift us a glance at who Edward might have been, I felt Damon was never allowed to soften his granite body language.

If The Good Shepherd had only focused on the rivalry between Mother (the KGB’s nickname for Wilson) and Ulysses (CIA’s codename for his KGB counterpart, played by Oleg Shtefanko) I think this could have been the success that De Niro, Roth and Damon expected cinematically and as a historical analysis. This rivalry takes center stage in the movie’s final third, rewarding the patient viewer with the emotional energy absent from most of the first 100+ minutes with dramatic spy games that continually raise the stakes and provide a meaningful payoff to the interspersed scenes in which Wilson and his constant companion Ray Broca (John Turturro, who wisely offers his emotions throughout) are analyzing the reasons for the failure to overthrow Castro at the Bay of Pigs.

moderately recommended

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Children of Men

Filmmakers have embedded their political views in their work from the birth of the industry (e.g., The Birth of a Nation) and director Alfonso Cuaron, along with his writing partner Timothy Sexton, use this 2006 movie as vehicle that asks viewers to think about the potentially calamitous effects of human activities on ourselves and our home. While the plot may be overly complex, the question asked is brash and unmistakable.

In Children of Men, Cuaron and Sexton (along with P.D. James, who wrote the 1992 source novel) ask, what if some of the chemicals we use, biological agents with which we experiment and thoughtless sexual activities we pursue combine to eradicate human fertility? Destroy it so completely that by 2027, the year in which the movie is set, no child has been born for more than 18 years and, despite worldwide quests for cause and cure, no one is remotely close to an answer. Indeed, Children opens with the suicide of Diego, that last baby born, who simply cannot handle a level of media attention that dwarfs what we see given to Britney, Paris and JLo.

A miracle is needed and perhaps that’s what’s happened. Theo Faron (Clive Owens), a UK bureaucrat, is kidnapped right off a city street, only to find that his abductor is his ex-wife Julian (Julianne Moore). Emotional bond intact despite 20 years having passed–they split up over the death of their baby son–Theo agrees to help her underground/terrorist group move a woman past internal security. First he agrees to do it for a money but after finding out the woman, in the country illegally, is pregnant (our miracle) Theo is driven to complete the mission.

Julian’s group has its own internal conflict, though, which surfaces immediately after the three (plus the girl’s midwife) get out into the countryside. Chiwitel Ejiofor, always excellent, plays the leader of a militant faction, Luke, but Theo, paranoid and suspicious of everyone, acts quickly to get pregnant Kee (Claire-Hope Ashitey) out of harm’s way. They run to his parent’s hidden rural home (the unrepentant hippy dad is Michael Caine), conveniently nearby, and then to a coastal refugee camp from where they hope to connect with a semi-mythical hospital ship run by the Human Project (humanity’s last, best hope?).

It’s all rough and tumble from here. Luke and his men have hardly given up, tracking them to Caine’s place and then the camp. The refugee camp is hardly a summer holiday all on its own, especially since they feel the need to hide Kee’s nearly baked state. Plenty of action and turbulence right up until the last frame keep our protagonists’ fate in doubt and no attempt to answer the bigger question is (smartly) ever made.

PR and advertising for Children position the film as a 21st century compliment to Blade Runner, Ridley Scott’s 1982 masterpiece adaptation of Phillip K. Dick’s post-apocalyptic distopian thriller, a reasonable proposition. The film is visually all dreary shades of grey, with England as rainy as Seattle, a hero dragged against his will into life and death skullduggery and no-longer wanted immigrants updating cybernetic replicants.

The biggest negative for me in this movie is what feels like unnecessary plot complications in the form of Luke’s faction. Given the anti-government tone of the opening scenes (manifested by brutal treatment of the refugees), I would have continued with them as the opposition throughout. Second, the overwhelming amount of gun play and explosions. Last is the minimal screen time for Ms. Moore, contrary to what the publicity leads us to expect. Where I might rate Blade Runner a 4 (out of five), the best I can do for Children of Men is a 3.

recommended

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Notorious

Released just months after V-E day and the end of World War II, Alfred Hitchcock’s Notorious is fixed clearly on the post-Hitler Nazi threat, among the earliest manifestations of a pop culture meme that continued for decades in movies like the Dustin Hoffman/Lawrence Olivier thriller Marathon Man and Robert Harris’s classic ‘what if England lost’ novel Fatherland.

John Huberman is convicted of treason for being a German spy in early 1946 and his daughter Alicia (Ingrid Bergman) attempts to drown her sorrow in liquor and men in Miami. One night T.R. Devlin (Cary Grant) shows up at one of those parties at her bungalow and, in the morning when she wakes with a nasty hangover, suggests that a better way to get past her dad’s disgrace is to work for him to infiltrate a Nazi gang in Rio de Janeiro; Devlin wants her because one of the conspiracy’s leaders has held a crush on Alicia for years and is himself getting old enough to feel real pressure to marry and settle down.

The two fly to Brazil where a chance encounter with Alexander Sebastian (Claude Rains) is arranged; a few lunches and dinner later, after Momma Sebastian (played with a delightfully nasty edge by Leopoldine Konstantin) can meet and give her blessing, he pops the question. Neither Alicia nor Devlin are happy about this since by now they are in love but the bosses don’t know that, nor would they care even so, and instruct her to accept.

While the conspiracy is disposed of by the end–could you imagine some other outcome?–the survival of the two lovebirds and their romance is far less certain. Hitchcock is the master of suspense and Notorious is considered one of his best films, Ben Hecht wrote a very strong script (he won the Best Original Screenplay Oscar) and Grant, Bergman and Rains all give terrific performances (Rains was nominated for Best Supporting Actor, losing to Harrold Russell’s outstanding effort in The Best Years of Our Lives) so this is a movie you really ought to see when the chance comes around again on DVD or cable.

recommended

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The Fountainhead

A 1949 screen interpretation of Ayn Rand’s classic novel starring Gary Cooper and a very young, lovely Patricia O’Neil, I watched this mainly due to the recent publicity surrounding the 50th anniversary of Rand’s other big novel, Atlas Shrugged, and since Rand herself wrote the screenplay. I read both novels back in college but, unlike some well-known people as former Fed Chairman Alan Greenspan and rocker Geddy Lee, I saw gaping holes in her logic as well as a serious deficit in sympathy for other humans. Shrugged, oddly, was never made into a movie despite its continuing popularity, though Angelina Jolie is spearheading a production that may be released next year.

The Fountainhead, directed by Hollywood vet King Vidor (Duel in the Sun, Northwest Passage), is the story of Howard Roarke (Cooper). Unwilling to submit to the grinding impersonalization forced on anyone who shows signs of real talent, beginning with college professors, moving on to his early bosses and then media critics after he finds wealthy patrons brave enough to erect his out of the mainstream building designs.

After losing one contract too many when he was insistant on his exact plan being built, Roarke flees the city to work with his hands in a granite quarry. Who should be there but Dominic Francon, running away from her weak-willed fiance (who was Roarke’s classmate and a partner in Francon’s father’s firm), who rides her horse over the hill one day to see what’s happening at the quarry. Of course the two see each other and the attraction is immediate.

Roarke won’t marry her, though, until she becomes as strong an individual as he; instead she marries the owner of the newspaper at which she used to work. A newspaper which, on the urging of its architecture critic, had run a smear campaign against a residential skyscraper Roarke designed. Strangely, Roarke and Dominic’s husband (played suavely by Raymond Massey) become great friends–which makes the girl quite nervous as hubby has never been told about their love–and Roarke’s career takes off.

Finally, Roarke wins the contract for a huge low-income housing development through the subterfuge of submitting his bid under the name of Dominic’s former fiance. The city officials agree to the condition that it be built as designed, absolutely, but then just before construction begins that darn, and influential, newspaper critic (Robert Douglas, slick enough as Toohey to make me wonder if he’s half snake) gets two other architects brought in and they make a huge number of ridiculous changes.

Roarke has been away all this time but returns when construction is nearly complete and is disgusted. He dynamites the entire site and is arrested since he’s stayed to surrender when the police arrive. The entire movie up to this point has simply been an exercise to show us Roarke’s true character, the foolishness of those who would impose their will upon others as well as any kind of collective responsibility, and, though it isn’t easy, it’s ever too late to reach the Randian ideal.

At the trial Roarke defends himself. He essentially asks no questions in his cross of the prosecution witnesses other than to confirm the facts as he sees them, most importantly that he did design the project and his only condition and his only compensation was for it to be built exactly as designed. Nor does he call any witnesses of his own, he simply delivers a combined testimony/closing argument that (according to my Law & Order legal education) counts on jury nullification to win a not guilty result.

In fact Roarke’s entire soliloquy is a statement of Rand’s philosophy. Though Cooper’s delivery is his typical understated yet insistently firm style, it’s a poor climax for a film that has barely crawled along for the previous 90 minutes. Judged as a film, The Fountainhead becomes essentially a university lecture; surely having Rand make a documentary would have been a better choice and somehow I doubt Jolie’s Atlas Shrugged, if it gets made, will be much better.

not recommended

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The Spy Who Came in from the Cold

Based on the classic John Le Carre novel, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold strikes me as perhaps the first major feature film taking an overtly cynical posture on the way intelligence agencies on both sides of the iron curtain did business. In 1965, released amidst the massive success of the first James Bond movies and just before the anti-war movement went mainstream, the film’s attitude and low tech approach–it was one of the last major releases shot in black and white–didn’t go over well and the film pretty much sank from sight.

Forty years later those are no longer obstacles to appreciating the quality of the acting, direction and screenplay. Richard Burton has one of his best outings as the title character, a spy called Alec Leamas returned from a decade of service running the Berlin station, though one wonders just how difficult playing a burned out drunk was for the former Mr. Elizabeth Taylor.

Some fine supporting performances by Claire Bloom as a beautiful, naive young English communist, Cyril Cusack as Leamas’ MI-6 controller, Oskar Werner as a Jewish East German spy boss at war with Peter van Eyck, his anti-semitic boss, and Beatrix Lehmann as the stern chief of the tribunal where Leamas and the two East German spies face off.

Martin Ritt, who also directed such classics as Woody Allen’s The Front, Sounder, a couple of Paul Newman hits (Hud and The Long, Hot Summer) and Norma Rae, has his A game on Cold, using lighting as a powerful tool to convey emotions and framing shots precisely to help viewers see beneath the dialog. The script by Guy Trosper (Jailhouse Rock and Birdman of Alcatraz) and Paul Dehn (Goldfinger, the second Bond movie), who came on to finish it when Trosper passed away, does very well in getting the meat of Le Carre’s novel on screen with some very crisp dialog and plot construction.

Le Carre is the pen name of David Cornwell, a real life an MI-6 spy. He was still active when this movie was made but shortly thereafter left the agency as one of the dozens of western agents betrayed to the Soviets by Kim Philby; one expects he’d have not stayed much longer in any case as his literary star bloomed. Many Le Carre novels have been made into acclaimed films and mini-series, including his best known work Tinker, Tailor, Solder, Spy starring Alec Guinness, The Little Drummer Girl with Diane Keaton and ex-Bond Pierce Brosnan starrer The Tailor of Panama as well as the 2005 critical favorite Constant Gardener.

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Dirty Work

I only watched this movie because there was nothing else even remotely interesting and Lance Reddick is so good on The Wire. Reddick is a dirty cop but we’re supposed to think that’s only due to some bad luck and too much gambling, which got him under the thumb of Julian, a weird local crime boss played by Austin Pembleton.

Dirty Work picks up when Assistant State Attorney Frank Sullivan (Mike McGlore), running for his boss’s job, comes home late one night. During a fight he gets physical with his alcoholic wife and strangles her; he and his campaign manager smuggle the body out and stage her to appear as if she was another victim of a rapist/murderer. The other plot is that Reddick decides he’s not going to let Julian ruin a young Polish hotel maid, after she overheard the real killer, Julian’s top goon, admit that fact to his boss.

In the end, this movie is too simple and formulaic. Writer/director Bruce Terris, in his first feature-length production, leans too heavily on dark visuals, bad Chicago winter weather and some pretty decent acting to overcome poor material with too few surprises for a thriller.

not recommended

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