endymion82
abr 2001 se unió
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Clasificación de endymion82
This movie isn't for everyone. The show isn't either. That's exactly why it's good.
One star for Disney having the guts to make a film of the show that challenges and inverts what Disney built its career on- sanitizing the common mythology of folktales and fairy tales. The anger with which people react to Disney having made this film is proof of why we needed it and they needed to do it.
One star for the costumes, a hodgepodge of sly references to the various European time periods and settings each of these tales comes from.
One star for the woods themselves. Haunting, beautiful, menacing, and so very real.
One star for the ensemble- probably the best assembled for a musical film since CHICAGO. Everyone can sing and sings well, more importantly they can all act, and act while they sing, which is essential for Sondheim.
One star for Anna Kendrick- she knocks her big song out of the park. Cinderella is the hardest character in the story- indecisive, sad, alienated, but so intelligent, so hopeful, so optimistic in spite of the abandonment, the beatings, the humiliation and ultimately even the betrayal of her fantasies- and Kendrick hits every beat perfectly, moving from girl to woman, from someone who can barely express what she wants to someone who tells her prince its over when she realizes she loves a man she doesn't actually know.
One star for Emily Blunt- so smart, so adept at crafting a character in broad and tiny strokes. The Baker's Wife is the jewel in the crown of a play/movie featuring an embarrassment of excellent and complex women's roles and Blunt carries the morally ambiguous but staunchly optimistic message of the movie beautifully. She's simultaneously charming, funny, tragic and human.
One star for James Corden- the best Baker I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot. He is the heart of the movie. His journey is profound. He's believable at every step and he, of everybody, made this character entirely his own.
One star for Stephen Sondheim- one of America's finest songwriters. The early songs are complex sung monologues of lyrical gymnastics, characters explaining their thinking, their motives, their discoveries in the deceptively simple manner of fairy tales, but as the story deepens the simple, sing-song melodies are replaced by richer, deeper, darker music, till we finally get the screaming wail of LAST MIDNIGHT and then the melancholy lullaby of NO ONE IS ALONE. It's brilliant, beautifully constructed, and eschews mainstream sound while still creating one of the richest harmonic pallets in any movie musical ever. And you have to listen to it more than once to truly get it- and that's okay.
One star for James Lapine, for finding a way to condense his stage play and reinvent it for a new millennium, for adhering to the moral ambiguity of the world he created and not compromising on that front.
One star for Rob Marshall, for opening his film with a shot of the sky, and closing it with the same, before the reprise of the prologue, with the last notes of CHILDREN WILL LISTEN playing themselves out. To have the guts to make a movie that tells the truth- that all of our lives are the space between Giant attacks brought on by the wishes of humans who can't see the long term consequences of their actions- is pretty commendable. We're a country so scared of the truth right now, and the moral of INTO THE WOODS is that fantasy has its place, as a coping mechanism, but the imagination always has been and always will be a double-edged sword. "I wish" is a powerful statement, and the spark of life (the Greeks knew this- and that's why the universe begins with the birth of Desire) but it's also the beginning of a long road that leads deeper and deeper into the woods- even when you think it leads out. And sure, you can see this as bleak, or you can see this as a rallying cry to be courageous and recognize life for what it is- brutal and hard, but graced with moments where you win or come to truly understand something, and where you are never alone because we're all going through it together.
This movie is absolutely suitable for children. I saw the show- which is much more violent and sexual- when I was 10. Best thing that ever happened to me, taught me how to live in the real world and care about other human beings and be a part of a community. Partly because I had parents who talked to me about the show I saw afterward. So yes, this movie is completely suitable for children- you just have to be the kind of parent who uses film to engage your child's mind, not shut them up for two hours with harmless drivel.
One star for Disney having the guts to make a film of the show that challenges and inverts what Disney built its career on- sanitizing the common mythology of folktales and fairy tales. The anger with which people react to Disney having made this film is proof of why we needed it and they needed to do it.
One star for the costumes, a hodgepodge of sly references to the various European time periods and settings each of these tales comes from.
One star for the woods themselves. Haunting, beautiful, menacing, and so very real.
One star for the ensemble- probably the best assembled for a musical film since CHICAGO. Everyone can sing and sings well, more importantly they can all act, and act while they sing, which is essential for Sondheim.
One star for Anna Kendrick- she knocks her big song out of the park. Cinderella is the hardest character in the story- indecisive, sad, alienated, but so intelligent, so hopeful, so optimistic in spite of the abandonment, the beatings, the humiliation and ultimately even the betrayal of her fantasies- and Kendrick hits every beat perfectly, moving from girl to woman, from someone who can barely express what she wants to someone who tells her prince its over when she realizes she loves a man she doesn't actually know.
One star for Emily Blunt- so smart, so adept at crafting a character in broad and tiny strokes. The Baker's Wife is the jewel in the crown of a play/movie featuring an embarrassment of excellent and complex women's roles and Blunt carries the morally ambiguous but staunchly optimistic message of the movie beautifully. She's simultaneously charming, funny, tragic and human.
One star for James Corden- the best Baker I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot. He is the heart of the movie. His journey is profound. He's believable at every step and he, of everybody, made this character entirely his own.
One star for Stephen Sondheim- one of America's finest songwriters. The early songs are complex sung monologues of lyrical gymnastics, characters explaining their thinking, their motives, their discoveries in the deceptively simple manner of fairy tales, but as the story deepens the simple, sing-song melodies are replaced by richer, deeper, darker music, till we finally get the screaming wail of LAST MIDNIGHT and then the melancholy lullaby of NO ONE IS ALONE. It's brilliant, beautifully constructed, and eschews mainstream sound while still creating one of the richest harmonic pallets in any movie musical ever. And you have to listen to it more than once to truly get it- and that's okay.
One star for James Lapine, for finding a way to condense his stage play and reinvent it for a new millennium, for adhering to the moral ambiguity of the world he created and not compromising on that front.
One star for Rob Marshall, for opening his film with a shot of the sky, and closing it with the same, before the reprise of the prologue, with the last notes of CHILDREN WILL LISTEN playing themselves out. To have the guts to make a movie that tells the truth- that all of our lives are the space between Giant attacks brought on by the wishes of humans who can't see the long term consequences of their actions- is pretty commendable. We're a country so scared of the truth right now, and the moral of INTO THE WOODS is that fantasy has its place, as a coping mechanism, but the imagination always has been and always will be a double-edged sword. "I wish" is a powerful statement, and the spark of life (the Greeks knew this- and that's why the universe begins with the birth of Desire) but it's also the beginning of a long road that leads deeper and deeper into the woods- even when you think it leads out. And sure, you can see this as bleak, or you can see this as a rallying cry to be courageous and recognize life for what it is- brutal and hard, but graced with moments where you win or come to truly understand something, and where you are never alone because we're all going through it together.
This movie is absolutely suitable for children. I saw the show- which is much more violent and sexual- when I was 10. Best thing that ever happened to me, taught me how to live in the real world and care about other human beings and be a part of a community. Partly because I had parents who talked to me about the show I saw afterward. So yes, this movie is completely suitable for children- you just have to be the kind of parent who uses film to engage your child's mind, not shut them up for two hours with harmless drivel.
I loved this film, and upon watching it, turned to my partner and said, "That just made me happier than anything I've seen all year." I've been a fan of Hartley's for years, (my favorite of his films is FLIRT) and this movie was a welcome return to form, the best aspects of his early work combined with the visually slick and fluid style of his later years. Excellent dialogue, gorgeous use of colors and camera angles, well paced and just the perfect mix of quirky humor, contemporary philosophy, and drama. Almost perfect in every way, with a truly excellent performance at the center, and as Hartley films go it is abnormally accessible to boot, though still entirely Hartley, and so perfect for fans and for folks looking for a door into the world of one of America's most talented but underrated modern film makers.
Saw a midnight showing of this film and was up all night thinking about it. Now, almost 12 hours later, I am finally forming some thoughts about it and I have to say: the majority are positive, and the whole of me really thinks everybody should see this movie, if only because it will give you so much to think about.
From a review perspective, there is a lot that is good: the visuals, the pacing, the bulk of the script. As a fan of the book, was there stuff I missed? Characters, episodes, conversations- sure. But I get that it had to be cut down and re-shaped to make it work as a film, and I think it does work. In some ways it is even more powerful, helping to bring home a lot of the inter-connected elements of the novel's nesting stories with an extra dramatic punch that only something like film can really provide. If there are occasional mis-steps, they are in moments when it gets a little too heavy handed and for me this is really confined to the ending- the final moments of both Zachry's and Adam's stories feel just a bit too layered on, almost as if the film makers were afraid we wouldn't get it. Ironic, since the film demands so much from its audience (it's in no way a passive movie experience) up to that point, and maybe the intention was to, in some ways, ease the audience out of the three hours of wildly engaging cinema they had been subjected to.
The performances run the gamut from decent (Tom Hanks) to solid (Halle Berry) to good (Keith David, James D'arcy) to inspired (Hugh Grant, Susan Sarandon, Jim Sturgess)to the brilliant (Ben Whishaw, Jim Broadbent, Doona Bae). Is the make-up occasionally distracting? Yes, but often it's supposed to be, with the men of New Seoul, for instance, looking utterly strange and phony next to the all-too-human female fabricants, and the ridiculous 70's haircuts slyly reminding you that Luisa Reyes' story is told through the eyes of a precocious young novelist. Sometimes the make-up is startlingly good- Broadbent, for instance, is completely unrecognizable as the 19th century ship captain, and Xun Zhou disappears into her role as Tom Hank's sister in the far far future. Like every other aspect of this movie, it's one more piece of a puzzle that is by turns utterly sincere and completely tongue-in-cheek.
And in the end, that's what allows this movie to transcend some its flaws: for every mis-step, there is a bullseye, and it leaves you wondering if even some of the "mistakes" or "oversights" are part of the equation, intentionally done to make you think harder about what you just saw. Some of the stories feel dense and rich, some feel shallow and pulpy- but all of them are compelling and watchable and leave you wanting more. The over-all impression is one of a myriad of complex and diverse indivdiuals, who in their brief moments all contribute to a larger impression of humanity as a whole, of life as an experience, of the universe and history composed of many tiny points of light, each intrinsically valuable, but only truly catching your eye for a moment, usually as one falls to its death, or breaks from its fixed place to wander. The statement is deeply compelling, but what is more remarkable is how each element of the movie structurally upholds that core statement, as no one person or tale is allowed to upstage another (though of course, some elements will call stronger to some viewers), but the piece as a whole could not be as effective without each of them.
It's a remarkably ambitious work of art, in both what it is trying to say and how it is trying to say it, and it's not for everybody. That, for me, makes me like it even more: it seems rare that such a big budget, star spangled film should take so many risks, and be so uncompromising. In light of that, I think it's something people should see, even if they hate it. Liking a work of art is less important than if we're stimulated by it, and I can't imagine anyone seeing this film and not having something to talk about afterwards.
From a review perspective, there is a lot that is good: the visuals, the pacing, the bulk of the script. As a fan of the book, was there stuff I missed? Characters, episodes, conversations- sure. But I get that it had to be cut down and re-shaped to make it work as a film, and I think it does work. In some ways it is even more powerful, helping to bring home a lot of the inter-connected elements of the novel's nesting stories with an extra dramatic punch that only something like film can really provide. If there are occasional mis-steps, they are in moments when it gets a little too heavy handed and for me this is really confined to the ending- the final moments of both Zachry's and Adam's stories feel just a bit too layered on, almost as if the film makers were afraid we wouldn't get it. Ironic, since the film demands so much from its audience (it's in no way a passive movie experience) up to that point, and maybe the intention was to, in some ways, ease the audience out of the three hours of wildly engaging cinema they had been subjected to.
The performances run the gamut from decent (Tom Hanks) to solid (Halle Berry) to good (Keith David, James D'arcy) to inspired (Hugh Grant, Susan Sarandon, Jim Sturgess)to the brilliant (Ben Whishaw, Jim Broadbent, Doona Bae). Is the make-up occasionally distracting? Yes, but often it's supposed to be, with the men of New Seoul, for instance, looking utterly strange and phony next to the all-too-human female fabricants, and the ridiculous 70's haircuts slyly reminding you that Luisa Reyes' story is told through the eyes of a precocious young novelist. Sometimes the make-up is startlingly good- Broadbent, for instance, is completely unrecognizable as the 19th century ship captain, and Xun Zhou disappears into her role as Tom Hank's sister in the far far future. Like every other aspect of this movie, it's one more piece of a puzzle that is by turns utterly sincere and completely tongue-in-cheek.
And in the end, that's what allows this movie to transcend some its flaws: for every mis-step, there is a bullseye, and it leaves you wondering if even some of the "mistakes" or "oversights" are part of the equation, intentionally done to make you think harder about what you just saw. Some of the stories feel dense and rich, some feel shallow and pulpy- but all of them are compelling and watchable and leave you wanting more. The over-all impression is one of a myriad of complex and diverse indivdiuals, who in their brief moments all contribute to a larger impression of humanity as a whole, of life as an experience, of the universe and history composed of many tiny points of light, each intrinsically valuable, but only truly catching your eye for a moment, usually as one falls to its death, or breaks from its fixed place to wander. The statement is deeply compelling, but what is more remarkable is how each element of the movie structurally upholds that core statement, as no one person or tale is allowed to upstage another (though of course, some elements will call stronger to some viewers), but the piece as a whole could not be as effective without each of them.
It's a remarkably ambitious work of art, in both what it is trying to say and how it is trying to say it, and it's not for everybody. That, for me, makes me like it even more: it seems rare that such a big budget, star spangled film should take so many risks, and be so uncompromising. In light of that, I think it's something people should see, even if they hate it. Liking a work of art is less important than if we're stimulated by it, and I can't imagine anyone seeing this film and not having something to talk about afterwards.