Posts tonen met het label Steven Soderbergh. Alle posts tonen
Posts tonen met het label Steven Soderbergh. Alle posts tonen

dinsdag 22 oktober 2013

Today's Mini-Review: Contagion





Rating: ****/*****, or 7/10


Starring: Matt Damon, Laurence Fishburne, Marion Cotillard

Directed by Steven Soderbergh

USA: Warner Bros., 2011


Steven Soderbergh's cautionary tale about the dangerous reality that is (and/or could be) a deadly global pandemic and its disastrous effects of human society and sense of morality proves an often harrowing but ultimately overly clinical film. Gwyneth Paltrow returns home from a business trip (which included some secret bedding out of wedlock) and is struck by seizures. Her husband Matt Damon rushes her to a hospital where she soon dies, much to everybody's shock and surprise. Her demise is only the beginning, as the disease that killed her – a fictional form (fortunately!) of meningoencephalitis – soon manifests itself all over the globe. The social order starts to break down everywhere as governments are unable to cope with the sudden onslaught that plagues their citizens. Experts from the CDC and WHO attempt to find a cure and to locate the origin of the outbreak but are hindered by problems as diverse as boundaries in their professional ethics, conspiracy bloggers inciting public revolt against the rule of law for their own profit, and the overall fear and hopelessness that drives people to extremes they would otherwise never consider, just to survive another day. The result is a carefully woven mosaic of various plot lines that never merge but end up making for an excellently rounded structure as a whole in terms of exploring the nature of the virus, its effects on global society and the race for ending its reign of terror. Though credit has to be given to Soderbergh and his team for keeping this narrative as close to reality as possible, both for chilling us to the bone and for the benefit of our education, it's hard to deny the film's occasional uneven pace and its constant need for overexplaining the more technical situations portrayed, even though it's tremendously helpful in understanding the motions of science in hazardous scenarios like these, and provides some always welcome intellectual uplifting of the audience in general. At times it feels a documentary would have better suited this topic (and no doubt some have). An all-star cast is brought on board to demonstrate how swiftly a lethal, worldwide viral outbreak makes an end to everyday life and in some instances, human values we claim to hold dear until circumstances prove us otherwise.


Though convincing performances are found throughout, in hindsight it would have been more apt to have these characters be played by less known talents to increase the level of realism Contagion aims for. Though the likes of Matt Damon, Marion Cotillard, Kate Winslet, Laurence Fishburne and Jude Law are undoubtedly just as susceptible to nasty diseases as the rest of us (unless fortune really is a cure for every illness), their struggle against the horrible infliction in question doesn't feel as grounded in reality as it ought to because of the high level of internationally familiar faces and the lack of “normal people” in major roles throughout the whole. The movie's overall style is rather cold and detached, a tone many spectators would expect a scientifically accurate story to convey, while the human element is relegated to the background a little too much. Soderbergh focuses on the microcosm of things, so scenes of mass panic and rampant lawlessness are absent though they are referred to abundantly, which doesn't make the concerns addressed in this film feel as immediate and as serious as we are meant to experience them. Contagion is a fine attempt at explaining in a scientifically correct sense what very well could (and most likely would) transpire if it came down to a global pandemic of this magnitude – the death toll at the end of the film reaches 26 million people – but its reliance on letting science determine the course of the film doesn't make for as compelling and intense a drama as it should have been.

maandag 16 september 2013

Today's Mini-Review: Behind the Candelabra



Behind the Candelabra: ***/*****, or 7/10

After having immersed himself in one world of extreme showmanship and male relations in Magic Mike, Steven Soderbergh tells another, not quite so dissimilar version of the same topic when he tackles the love life of Liberace in Behind the Candelabra. Based on the autobiographical novel by Scott Thorson (played in this movie by Matt Damon), Soderbergh explores the stormy six year relationship, starting in 1977, between the famed pianist – already an older man at that time – and the much younger man who he sweeps into his world of excess. A naive boy uncomfortable with a life of glamour and glitter, you'd think Thorson knows better than to simply accept Liberace's invitation into his effusive lifestyle, but the call of adventure and glory is too much for any young adult to ignore. What starts as a seemingly genuine love affair between the flamboyant musician and his younger bisexual paramour generally devolves into an untenable situation as Thorson, victim to various cosmetic whims of what is basically his benefactor, fears himself just a fling, easily replaced if Liberace so desires. Eventually their relationship unravels and tragedy ensues. Even more so in later years, long after the legal dust has settled between them, as Liberace suffers from AIDS and once again calls on his former romantic partner for reaching an understanding. It may be Thorson's story, but thanks to a fabulous performance by Michael Douglas (which has unmistakably written 'Academy Award' all over it), no quarter is given to the fact that this is Liberace's movie. The historical character drives every scene from the get-go, even when not physically present, while Douglas dominates every sequence with his superb acting which all too carefully balances character and caricaturism. Despite being an insufferable, arrogant and commandeering presence, often driving Thorson to extremes for his own pleasure, there's also a definite poignancy and heart to Liberace as he searches for someone to hold on to during all the madness of his life as a totally over-the-top artist. Douglas successfully makes you love and hate Liberace. Damon, though certainly not lacking the necessary chemistry duelling this opponent and holding his own when it matters, is unsurprisingly outstaged at all times, but this is naturally unavoidable as you can't outshine the likes of Liberace and Soderbergh knows better than to have his supporting cast try to do just that. Nevertheless, Damon proves as brave as Douglas when it comes to making the expression in the flesh of the love between Liberace and Thorson feel convincing. Though dealing with heavy themes of lust, betrayal and passion gone awry, Soderbergh isn't afraid to employ a lighter tone for much of the film, making us enjoy Liberace's various campy acts as much as his contemporary audience did, while also relaying the sheer absurdity of a man who was so clearly gay, but who vividly denied his nature at every turn to the point of suing people who openly commented on his homosexuality: if you watch Douglas' playing the part it seems incredulous people ever actually believed such continuous denials. The greatest fun the movie provides comes with courtesy from Rob Lowe playing Liberace's plastic surgeon, who is commisioned to turn Thorson into a young duplicate of the celeb. Here the joy gradually turns to disgust (and not just because of several explicit surgery shots!) as Thorson all too easily drops his resistance to please his lover who's asking things of him no sane human being would allow, with detrimental results to his face and in the longer run, his mental health. However, it was perfectly clear from the start the relationship between the two was doomed to failure and would only cause harm. In principle, Behind the Candelabra is no different in any way from hundreds of other films dealing with an inexperienced younger person who is drawn into a world of fame and passion which turns out a web of lies in which he is devoured unless he breaks free and returns to his roots: in fact, Magic Mike's plot line was similar in all too many ways. However, neither Mike nor all those other films in the same veign had the benefit from Michael Douglas' delightful but ultimately heartbreaking performance, which makes up for any of such narrative predictabilities. Douglas delivers, as Liberace lives again.

donderdag 2 februari 2012

Ocean's Thirteen




Rating: **/*****, or 4/10

Clooney en co. op automatische piloot

Wanneer is genoeg daadwerkelijk genoeg? Die vraag dringt zich op bij het zien van het derde deel in de reeks films rond Danny Ocean (George Clooney) en zijn vrolijke dievenbende. Na het hoogst vermakelijke Ocean's Eleven volgde het niet bijster hoogstaande Ocean's Twelve, waarin het stel een reeks overvallen in meerdere landen pleegde. Wegens goede bezoekersaantallen mochten Clooney en zijn maten een derde keer aan de bak: Hollywood stopt immers nooit tijdens een 'winning streak', net als Ocean's bende zelf. Dus daar gaan ze weer onder regie van Steven Soderbergh: Clooney, Pitt, Damon en de rest, met hun charme en hun Hollywoodflair, om eens te meer de harten van het publiek te stelen. Dit keer falen ze jammerlijk.

De mislukking ligt hoofdzakelijk in de routine. Ocean's Thirteen biedt niets nieuws achter de zon en blijkt een herhaling van zetten. Dat is jammer, want deze heist is persoonlijker dan in de voorgaande films. De mentor van het stel, Reuben (de immer competente Elliot Gould), wordt belazerd door een partner bij de bouw van een super-de-luxe casino in Las Vegas, en bezwijkt vervolgens bijna aan een hartaanval. Uiteraard laten de schelmen hun oude vriend niet ongewroken en trekken zij eropuit om het casino tijdens de openingsavond te beroven en de schurk, Willy Bank (Al Pacino, altijd een genoegen om naar te kijken) op zijn nummer te zetten. Natuurlijk is het casino voorzien van hoogstaande hightech beveiliging en zitten er de nodige haken en ogen aan deze zaak, zodat onze helden er een hele kluif aan hebben hun karwei te klaren en er glansrijk met de poen vandoor te gaan. Alweer.

En dus mogen Clooney en zijn makkers de zoveelste onmogelijke klus uitvoeren en een hele reeks inventieve zetten plannen om de zaak tot een goed einde te brengen. Uiteraard met een minimum aan geweld en een overdaad aan charme, want dat zijn we van ze gewend. Wat dat betreft is deze heist niet anders dan de vorige, en blijft het persoonlijke element van het werk onderbelicht. Reuben ligt het grootste deel van de film in bed, terwijl de jongens beurtelings langskomen om te vertellen welk obstakel hun pad nu weer kruist. 'Oh Reuben, we hebben het zo moeilijk', en daar blijft het drama bij. Verder is het 'business as usual', maar de overtreffende trap: een nog complexere klus, die om immer vergaande oplossingen vraagt, tot aan het simuleren van een aardbeving aan toe.



De wijze waarop de planning en de eigenlijke beroving getoond worden laat helaas ernstig te wensen over. Waar Eleven en Twelve de kijker nog vroegen de aandacht erbij te houden door niet alle details van de klus openlijk te tonen, is deze opzet in Thirteen afwezig en biedt de gang van zaken hier geen verrassingen. Sterker nog, in de eerste helft van de film wordt keurig uit de doeken gedaan hoe Ocean en co. te werk zullen gaan, waarna de klus precies verloopt als gepland. Niks geen plotwendingen of mysteries, maar een recht-toe recht-aan afhandeling zonder dramatische climax. Immers, na twee delen Ocean weten we al dat onze schavuiten elke klus kunnen klaren, dus waarom zou er nog moeite gedaan moeten worden om ons te verrassen?

De enige surprise die de film biedt is het toevoegen van Al Pacino aan een cast die toch al uit louter grote namen bestond. Pacino speelt de slinkse Willy Bank met verve als een innemende en gewiekste zakenman die als het hem uitkomt zonder te twijfelen een mes in de rug van zijn vrienden steekt om er alleen met het geld vandoor te gaan. Wat dat betreft is het geen crime om Clooney en kornuiten tegen een dergelijke tegenstander te zien spelen. Bank is als het ware de anti-Ocean: charmant, bevlogen,maar wel degelijk bereid tot meer schimmige tactieken om het spel te spelen. Wat er ook mis gaat, aan Pacino's immer betrouwbare acteer talent ligt het nooit. Hij speelt zijn rol met meer inspiratie en passie dan de rest van het gezelschap bij elkaar (voor hem is het immers nog nieuw).


Ondanks Pacino's aanwezigheid blijkt Ocean's Thirteen een overbodig derde deel in een reeks die het sowieso best bij één film had kunnen houden, als die opbrengsten niet zo winstgevend waren geweest. Clooney en zijn bende doen hun ding volledig op de automatische piloot om het publiek maar te geven wat het kennelijk wil hebben en brengen eens te meer een onmogelijke klus tot een voorspelbaar goed einde in een fletse film die verder niets nieuws te bieden heeft. De charme heeft haar glans onderhand wel verloren. Hopelijk hebben de schavuiten nu eindelijk genoeg geld geroofd om van een onbekommerd pensioen te genieten.