I have been back and forth on Woody Allen’s movies in recent years, but “Midnight in Paris” is one of his best and most entertaining movies ever. Its overture at the beginning made me want to fly out to Paris the very next day as Allen shows the country at its most invitingly beautiful. It also taps on those familiar themes he is always contemplating like insecurity, cold feet, and the possibility of being with more than one woman. But the big thematic focus of this movie is on nostalgia and how it always seem like any period of history appears better than the one we’re currently in.

Owen Wilson plays the Woody Allen-like character of Gil Pender, a successful screenwriter on vacation in Paris with his fiancée Inez (Rachel McAdams) and her conservative parents. Gil is serious about moving to the country for creative inspiration as it was home to many of his favorite writers. Inez however is settled on them living in Malibu, and neither she nor her pseudo-intellectual friend Paul (Michael Sheen) shares his romantic views. While walking down the street one night, the clock strikes midnight and Gil is greeted by an antique car which whisks him away with fun loving strangers drunk on champagne. It takes a bit for him to realize, but he sees that he’s been transported to the 1920s Paris.

Watching the befuddled expression on Wilson’s face when he realizes what time period he’s in is classic. Gil is greeted by a plethora of his favorite writers who have made their unforgettable mark in literary history like Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald (Allison Pill and Tom Hiddleston), and Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll). He even gets Hemingway’s agent Gertrude Stein to read the first novel he’s working on about a man working in a nostalgia shop. This is not to mention the plethora of other 1920s artists whom Gil constantly comes in contact with.

Having now seen “Midnight in Paris,” I now understand why my parents said that their friends who have watched this film 2 or 3 times already. Allen is taking us on a vivid trip of a favorite time period of his, and the love he has Paris is intoxicating to where you’re desperate to join Gil on his midnight escapades. Nothing feels false and the movie never succumbs to being a simple period piece. It is also brought to wonderful life by the terrific cast who inhabit these iconic artists without reducing them to caricatures of how historians perceive them.

Alison Pill, so memorable as the frowning female drummer in “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World,” is a hoot as Zelda Fitzgerald, a motor mouth writer who revels in having endless fun even when it’s at her own expense. But the performance I really liked was Corey Stoll’s as Hemingway. You can tell this is an actor who revels in playing a man as drunk on life as he is just plain drunk. Was Hemingway really like this? I don’t know and I don’t care because Stoll’s performance is full of passion, the kind Hemingway knows is his pleasure as well as his undoing through his conversations with Gil.

Marion Cotillard of “La Vie en Rose” and “Inception” fame is perfectly cast as the mistress of Picasso, Adriana. Throughout her screen time she is endlessly captivating as she forms a close bond with Gil who falls for her instantly. Her character encourages not just Gil’s but our own love for all things nostalgic, and she wants you to give in to it even as it becomes clear that there are other things more important. A lot of actors and actresses get a lot of criticism thrown at their choices of movie roles after winning an Oscar, as if we expected them to get good roles which these days are very rare, but Cotillard has continued to give one great performance after another.

I can’t remember the last movie I liked Owen Wilson so much in. He’s essentially playing a version of Woody Allen here, but he never falls into the trap of doing everything as Allen would. Wilson is endlessly whimsical, and I imagine he brought much of his own experience as a writer (he was involved in writing “Bottle Rocket” and “Rushmore” among other films) to this role. Watching him as Gil, he looks like he had a blast making this movie.

There is a bit of “The Purple Rose of Cairo” and even “Vicki Cristina Barcelona” on display in “Midnight in Paris.” It’s his exploration of the nostalgia we have of things that has helped make it his biggest box office hit to date. Thinking of his script for this one made me think of a lyric from Peter Gabriel’s song “More Than This”:

“Nothing fades as fast as the future, nothing clings like the past.”

What we universally share is this biting feeling of how our present really sucks and how nice it would be to live in another time in history where the problems we have now don’t exist. Heck, I’d love to go back to the 1970s and be involved in the making of the cinematic classics directed by Robert Altman and Martin Scorsese. But there’s the rub; the past always has a rose-colored tinge to it and doesn’t always appear to us the way it really was. These days we are stuck dealing with memories we’d rather forget while focusing on a future which holds constant worries for us. Michael Sheen’s character of Paul ends up equating nostalgia with denial. He may very well be right.

I’ve been lucky to finally watch some of Allen’s greatest movies recently like “Manhattan” which looks so very beautiful in black and white. I’m also reminded of the nauseous feeling I got from his handheld camera use he on “Deconstructing Harry.” And then there was the time I fell asleep while watching “Small Time Crooks.” It’s tempting from time to time to think Woody has bit off more than he can chew and that his glory days have long since passed him by, but every once in awhile he surprises us with something so creatively invigorating that you immediately believe he hasn’t lost his touch.

“Midnight in Paris” is great fun and one of the best movies of 2011. Travelling with Woody back through time to the 1920’s is something I want to watch again real soon. It doesn’t matter how Gil got there, all that matters is that this place exists to him. Either that or this is simply his version… of the Twilight Zone (cue music).

* * * * out of * * * *

This is both a brilliant and baffling movie. I spent much time after this movie trying to figure out what it was all about. This is not one of the movies that is easy to explain or understand initially. But for those who are not easily offended, it is worth a viewing to discover brave artists working at the peak of their talents, Marlon Brando and Bernardo Bertolucci. Their collaboration together on the 1972 classic “Last Tango In Paris” produced a shocking portrait of sexual excesses and overwhelming emotional needs. Many may have been put off by the sex and probably would consider this a porno more than anything else, but to dismiss it as such would be insulting to the director and actors who were insanely brave to do this type of movie.

Apparently, the idea for this movie rose out of Bertolucci’s sexual fantasies, and he stated that he “dreamed of seeing a beautiful nameless woman on the street and having sex with her without ever knowing who she was.” I wonder if his fantasies included sex and emotions that are as raw as they are displayed here in the movie. There’s certainly no holding back Brando here, and this may stand as the last truly brilliant performance he ever gave in a movie before he passed away. Then again, I guess you can count his performance in “The Freshman” as his brilliant one. It’s up to you.

“Last Tango In Paris” stars Brando as Paul, an American whose has been living with his wife in a decrepit hotel in Paris for 5 years. As the movie begins, we find that his wife has committed suicide, and we see him looking as morose as a human can get. Paul is in a wilderness of pain, and it has completely numbed him to any sort of enjoyment he can get out of life. We then meet up with Jeanne who is played by Maria Schneider in a part that no one has ever let her live down. She is currently enduring the passions of her boyfriend who wants to make a film of her life, and it gets to where she is not sure what is real and what is not. Both Paul and Maria end up meeting by chance in an apartment that Maria is thinking of renting, and the both of them end up having sex right there with no real explanation. It is said that Paul rapes Maria in this scene, but Maria never does say no or stop and doesn’t appear to resist his sudden advances.

From then on, the two of them agree to meet in that same apartment that Paul ends up renting on a regular basis. Paul sets up rules that define their relationship; they will not tell each other their real names, and that nothing outside of that apartment is real compared to what is going in this room right hear and right now. Inexplicably, Jeanne agrees to this even while trying to maintain a relationship with her filmmaker boyfriend who continues to drive her crazy. What goes on between these two people cannot easily be described as love, but more of a longing to feel something real, or something to take them away from the suffocating world they feel stuck in.

What drives this movie is not so much the sex in it, but the raw emotion that powers it from start to finish. What Paul is doing is not only degrading Jeanne, but really is degrading himself. Paul has such a hatred of himself that in the end, he is punishing himself more than he is punishing the women in his life. The sexual release he has with Jeanne represents the only sort of feeling he can generate for himself, and as a result, each encounter they have takes their sexual escapades to another level that is more dangerous than before. By the last half of the movie, they start to break the rules and want to get to know each other more intimately. They have spent their time before this having sex and then telling things about themselves to each other which may or may not be true.

With this movie, Bernardo Bertolucci bravely took a sexual fantasy of his and turned it into a movie which looked at relationships with and without complications. The result is an unforgettable movie dealing with naked emotions that becoming more and more apparent as the movie goes on. This relationship changes both of the main characters, and they later find themselves breaking the confines of it either to escape it, or to get more personal with each other. It is impossible to not have a passive reaction to this movie as it will enthrall and maybe even anger you. These two people are not involved in the healthiest of relationships.

I’m serious when I say that this is probably the last truly brilliant performance that Marlon Brando ever gave on film. His character of Paul is not exactly a likable person, and he does end up doing vicious things to both Jeanne and to himself, but Brando never hides away from any of those aspects. There are scenes where the camera lingers on Brando’s face for a couple of minutes as he tells a story to Jeanne that may or may not be true. You can visualize everything that he says so vividly, and that makes his performance all the more amazing. Brando paints pictures with the words that he says, and I can’t think of another actor that did that so effectively.

There is also an astonishing scene in the film where Brando looks over the body of his dead wife whose body is surrounded by flowers. He says so hateful things to her, but then he cries over her body with apologies she will never be able to hear. It is a scene of great emotional power, and it is further proof that he is one of the brilliant (not to mention one of the bravest) actors who has ever been onscreen. A lot of things have been said about him as a person, but you can never take away from his stature as an actor.

Maria Schneider is also great, although her performance is based more on her reactions to what Brando and Bertolucci do to her. Maria’s reactions to what she goes through onscreen are very real, and it does make for an uncomfortable experience at times. She bares all both physically and emotionally, and while it may never seem totally understandable why she would be consummating with Brando’s character, she seems to have justified it in her own mind.

The really interesting dynamic of their relationship in the film is that Brando’s character has had a long life and has been deeply wounded by it in many ways to the point where it seems like he can’t feel anything at all. The only way he can is if he hurts himself or hurts somebody else. Schneider’s character on the other hand is still young, and she has yet to fully understand how much life can hurt. These two are so different from each other, and they come from different stages in life, and yet somehow they are drawn to each other.

When I think of this movie, I immediately think of that Nine Inch Nails song that Johnny Cash did a brilliant cover of. The first set of lyrics of the song “Hurt” have always stayed in my mind:

“I hurt myself today to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real.”

I guess that’s what these two characters have in common; they feel more alive when they hurt. It shakes them out of their normal lives outside of that apartment they stay in, and nothing else seems to exist when the two of them are there.

Bertolucci dealt with this sexual fantasy of people in an apartment and locked off from the rest of the world several decades later in “The Dreamers,” so this seems to be a strong theme for him. This is probably a common theme in a lot of his other movies as well. I’m not sure if any of them are as brilliant and as emotionally affecting as “Last Tango In Paris.” It is another in a long line of movies that prove that the 1970’s was one of the greatest decades for films ever.

**** out of ****

“Ratatouille”
2007
**** out of ****
Director: Brad Bird
Cast: Patton Oswald, Ian Holm, Lou Romano


Last time I saw a movie that made me stand up and cheer was “V For Vendetta.” It was a full year and a quarter after that I had the pleasure of seeing “Ratatouille.” Looking back, I kind of feel like a douchebag when I wrote a column on my MySpace blog last Summer that was called “Summer 007 – The Ones Everyone Will See and the Ones That I Will Hate.” I was still mad over “Cars,” which was bland and mediocre to say the least. But I failed to look at one name in the credits before writing that very article…

His name is Brad Bird.

Bird was originally a consultant of the hit animated sitcom “The Simpsons” before coming to the film industry. After that, he did “The Iron Giant,” or the movie that I still haven’t gotten around to see. Five years later, he put out the very Pixar film that owned you and everyone around you – “The Incredibles.” It had EVERYTHING – superheroes that we all wanted to be, villains that were threatening for once, and Samuel L. Jackson. It is still one of the best animated movies that I’ve seen since “South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut.”

His next project was a movie called “Ratatouille,” an animated Pixar film that takes on the risky subject of a rat working on food in the kitchen. Lord knows how much rats make one frightened, but I can’t begin to say how much one of my biggest fears are to eat a bowl of pasta with a rat walking out with a little bit of sauce on the cheek of it’s ass-crack. I said “Ratatouille” couldn’t be done, and Bird proved me wrong. I have nothing to say but nice work… oh, and everything else in the review.

Remy the Rat (Patton Oswald) has a keen sense of smell, unlike the other rats. Most rats would dig through trash and be pleased with it, but Remy likes the taste of a good meal. His hero is Gusteau (Brad Garrett), a professional chef who owns his own restaurant in the heart of Paris. Gusteau’s famous line, “Anyone Can Cook,” helps Remy understand what he wants to be – a professional chef. There’s only one problem – he’s in the middle of country-lands where there is a gun-swinging old lady who will blow fucking heads off. Did I just use the f-word in a review for a children’s movie? Shame on me…

Anyway, Remy’s dream kind of comes true when he is separated by his family during a flood. He ends up in the sewers located in Paris, and walks right through the door of his hero’s restaurant. Apparently, Gusteau died after reading a review by the vicious food critic Anton Ego (Peter O’Toole). The restaurant, now ran by Skinner (Ian Holm), has been going through the shits. Skinner is doing frozen dinner meals and it seems like that none of the cooks are in positive moods anymore. Linguini (Lou Romano) comes walking in one day with a note saying asking for work. And he gets work, but as a janitor. When Remy messes around with some spices, Linguini receives the credit and is now works as a chef. But when Ego finds out about this, he comes knocking on the door, asking for some food.

We watch Remy and Linguini’s relationship evolve through the movie. Linguini is credited as a great chef as Remy does the cooking. It seems like Remy doesn’t even care about not being crediting half the time, because he’s living his dream. He’s introduced to all of these new spices while working at the restaurant and since Linguini doesn’t know how to do shit, they form a team. It’s a partnership that cannot be broken.

The plot of “Ratatouille” is much more complicated as it seems, especially for a children’s film. I sat there mesmerized how I could be so wide-eyed with the story of “Ratatouille.” It’s a film that should be for kids, but I’m glad that older people would get much more out of it. Out of the many scenes, I feel that the one scene that every adult will like is the scene as Anton Ego walks into the restaurant. These few moments didn’t only signal the reason why I liked the movie so damn much, but Anton Ego ended up to have the same look on his face after his meal ended as I had when the movie ended.

But the critic of Anton Ego is the most complex character here. A man like Ego was obviously inspired by the single greatest film critic of all-time, Roger Ebert. He plays around with words so that only the brightest can understand where he is coming from, which makes me stand up and applause. Only unlike Ebert, Anton Ego can be described as a critic who is respected by no one, which only adds to his personality. Restaurant owners cringe at the name whenever they hear it, and as he walks into the room of the restaurant, we cringe at the thought of what Ego will be thinking of the food.

Still, “Ratatouille” makes my heart warm the most out of all the films released in 2007, 2006, and 2005 put together. I watched “Ratatouille” thinking that I would come out as mad as I would have if I came out of a Tom Cruise flick that didn’t have him strapped to a chair with dental tools sitting next to him. But I was relatively surprised with one of the biggest aspects of the film. The Academy nominated “Ratatouille” for best screenplay, best score, best animation, best sound mixing, and best sound editing, and does it deserve in each of those categories.

I really can’t add onto anything else that has been said by others about the animation taking place in “Ratatouille,” but boy it sure looks fine. For much of the time, you don’t even realize that the film is animation and you begin to think that you’re looking at a photograph of Paris. Best part about it? They got everything right, including the Eiffel Tower.

“Ratatouille” was nominated for best animated film of 2007, but as typing this review, could it have easily been nominated for Best Picture? I left “Ratatouille,” surprised and happy, but nothing sums the movie up better than the quote used by Anton Ego at the end of the film…

“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends.”