The Brothers Bloom

Mark Ruffalo and Adrien Brody are The Brothers Bloom

Rian Johnson has emerged as one of the most interesting directorial talents of the last ten years or so. I first encountered his work, knowingly, with his Sci-Fi yarn Looper where he displayed a knack for dialogue, characterization and visual dynamism. I noticed that he had directed some of the better Breaking Bad episodes and this led me to his second feature, The Brothers Bloom.

Spurred by David Edelstein's largely positive review, I was eager to see this, but its quick exit from theaters led me to forget about it until I noticed it in my streaming queue. The Brothers Bloom is a con movie with roots in the screwball comedies of the 30s. Rachel Weisz plays a crazed heiress while the titular brothers who are out to con her are played by Mark Ruffalo and Adrien Brody. The leads are solid and playful, my wife commented that this was the first time she thought Brody exuded charm. 

Most critics were put off by the unevenness of tone in the film. it resembles a farce like Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, but has a thematic seriousness and sense of unease that keep popping up at odd junctures. Johnson has crammed the film with a host of allusions and references: The Man Who Would Be King, The Conformist, The Band, Diane Arbus, and, especially, Ulysses. Some may find this to be pretentious baggage dropped in a wacky farce, but I found the film to be bolstered and vivified by Johnson's lively intellect. 

I was not for a moment bored by The Brothers Bloom finding it both visually and intellectually stimulating. I interpreted the brothers as representing two sides of the same coin: one the conscious side, the other expressing the unconscious. The conscious one sacrifices himself at the end so his brother can go off with his lady love in much the way rational constraints must be cast off if one is to commit to one's beloved. There is much to chew on in the film: Johnson's use of hats, the maps/scripts the brothers use in their cons as meta texts and the possibility that the brothers are "wandering Jews". The Brothers Bloom is overstuffed and silly, but I found a lot in it to delight over and ponder. Johnson is laboring on the new Star Wars film, but I am more psyched to see his first feature, Brick. (8/3/16)

 

Amy

                  

Asif Kapadia's Amy is a first rate documentary on a topic I thought I wouldn't be interested in. Singer Amy Winehouse was an obvious talent, but was a little too retro for my tastes. The doc is one of the first to utilize the ubiquitous video self-documentation of the present generation. Winehouse's parties, rehearsals, vacation videos, etc., are at Kapadia's disposal here and he is artist enough to chronicle her rise and fall without becoming morbid or mawkish.

Kapadia subtitles most of Winehouse's performances with her lyrics to highlight how they were often a direct comment on her struggles. He shows how Winehouse was exploited by those around her, including her father, without any finger pointing or grandstanding. (3/20/16)

Benedetta

Paul Verhoeven and Virginie Efira

Paul Verhoeven's Benedetta tells the story of a 17th century Italian nun whose sapphic exploits and mystical visions brought the wrath of the Catholic Church upon her. Very loosely based on the life of Benedetta Carlini and Judith C. Brown's book on her, Immodest Acts..., the film is recognizably a work of the Dutch director, for good and ill. The mix of sexual content with social satire has been his bread and butter since 1973's Turkish Delight. A member of the Jesus seminar, Verhoeven published a book on the life of Jesus in 2008. Benedetta marks the first film in which Verhoeven has specifically addressed his spiritual concerns.

Leaving Hollywood after 2000's Hollow Man, Verhoeven has done his best work in the intervening years: Elle and, especially, Black Book. Sadly, Benedetta is not on the same level as these two films. The film is diverting enough, with themes and sequences that recall the sexual intrigue of The 4th Man, Spetters, Flesh + Blood, and, his most commercially successful film, Basic Instinct. Indeed, Verhoeven quotes the money shot of Sharon Stone in the latter film in a scene where Benedetta (Virginie Efira) flashes her charms at her lady love, Bartolomea, played by Daphne Patakia.

Efira is superb, effectively channeling her character's imperious mysticism and steely resolve. Patakia is much less effective and this throws the film's balance off. Verhoeven wants the relationship between the two to be both a passionate love affair and a folie a deux, but there is never a believable pull and tug in the relationship between the two, like the one successfully embodied by Kate Winslet and Melanie Lynskey in Peter Jackson's Heavenly Creatures. Efira nails the hauteur of a character born in the lap of aristocratic privilege, but Patakia, who is playing an abused young woman born of peasant stock, comes off as a whiny teenager.

Virginie Efira and Daphne Patakia in Benedetta

Benedetta's mystical visions, which are the most compelling parts of the first half of the film, recede from view as Verhoeven gradually shifts the focus of his film to his two lovers. I must confess I find Verhoeven's fascination with lesbianism (see also Basic Instinct and Showgirls) to be adolescent. Titillation seems to be the primary motivation for the director. I have nothing against sapphic sex on the screen. Indeed, like most hetero males, I kind of dig it. Therefore, watching Benedetta is an apt view for both Pride Month and Father's Day. However, Verhoeven's inclusion of it reminds one of the softcore porn elements of his early Dutch films; more an exploitation of a theme than a mature exploration of it.

Still, Benedetta works as a period film. The film is handsome without stinting on the appalling hygiene of the 17th century. Charlotte Rampling, Lambert Wilson, and Louise Chevillotte all offer fine support. The appearance of a crucifix dildo harkened me back to Ken Russell's The Devils, but, at least, Verhoeven is more restrained than Russell. However, there are two films with a similar theme that are superior to Benedetta: Jacques Rivette's La Religieuse  and Alain Cavalier's Therese, masterpieces both.