"Life During Wartime" (2010)

  There’s a lot of talk of the humanization - or lack there of – of the monsters that pervade the mainline of the outside world in “Life During Wartime”, the new film from director Todd Solondz. The director first made a name for himself by branding absolutely no subject too taboo to hold under his microscope of twisted humanity, gauging every topic from the overlooked sadism of middle-school adolescence in “Welcome to the Dollhouse” to the ambiguous, dark and sometimes hilarious corners of sexuality in “Happiness”.  Both films maintain a certain level of mastery that solidifies credibility.  Shot with an eerily humane blindness to objectivity accompanied by patient, steady pacing and razor-sharp wit, Solondz has uniquely pastiched portraits of socially distorted losers and misanthropes, whose richly dimensioned presense haunted us long after their journeys into perverse self-fulfillment.  One does not go into a Todd Solondz film in the hopes of participating in some misty-eyed road to redemption. 
 
  His latest ranges from the usual dark, closeted suburban observations on everything from rape, pedophilia, suicide and murder, though on this particular outing, Mr. Solondz is scaling interests the director himself described as “a little more politically overt”. Here he places themes of forgiveness and emotional fortitude against the backdrop of a post-9/11 sense of paranoia that seems to have taken hold of the three sisters Trish (Allison Janney), Joy (Shirley Henderson) and Helen (Ally Sheedy), and the rest of their family, comprising a microcosm of neurosis and dysfunction.

  A sound understanding of the color spectrum, from black to white, might be a basic operating principle that ought to be in place when dealing with themes of this magnitude. There is a strength of unpredictable fluidity from Solondz’s relationship with that color black - known commonly as the only shade with utter absence of color - and its adverse white, the collective blending of all colors, one that shocks, rattles, astounds and even caps off its defining moments with some troublesome humour. In this context, these colors would allude to the obsessive intricacies of their respective characters, like some depraved subjects of a pulp-filled cartoon. What made "Happiness" so swift in its movement was its observation of the ways one operates when in a state of sexually arrested development, and its horrifying revelation of how these people maintain superficial acceptance in a society fixated on certain accepted levels of so-called "normalcy".  The result is often hilarious, but also fundamentally sad.

  “Life During Wartime”, which presents itself more as a follow-up variation than a sequel to the 1998 masterpiece that is “Happiness”, knows no such bounds, and forgets that this blend of restless black void once served a purpose in compelling those who watched to embark down unsettling, yet fascinating corridors of empathy. Here, Solondz’s formula has been watered down to a tactic that is gapingly less effective: Just how much dysfunction can we follow, and how unnerved will it render us?

  Our revisitation of the Jordan family brings us to their newly settled home in Miami, where the offbeat peculiarity of this closely-knit bunch now seems to exist as one big parody. Trish (originally played by Cynthia Stevenson) and Joy (played by Jane Adams in the 1998 film) have found themselves again in their usual trappings.  Trish begins a courtship with Harvey (Michael Lerner), a man whose Jewish blood, professed connection to Israel and gentle sincerity give her comfort she feared she may have lost ago; "You're so...normal!", she says.  Joy continues to be haunted by an old boyfriend Andy (Paul Reubens) who's long since committed suicide, but still can't seem to let go of his lingering resentment.  If not emotionally, she at least seems to be weakened down here by starvation.

  There is implication that their search for male companionship is some bi-product of the effect of their sour sexual and marital experiences.  But most of that melancholy is feigned this time around, and exhausted nearly to death with the same stomach curdling blend of static communication that played so fresh in Solondz's original effort.  In one bit of the film's opening dialogue, Trish has a frank and explicitly sexual conversation with her son Timmy (Dylan Riley Snyder, in an incredibly precocious portrayal), whose naive concern for the mysteries of life begin to ruminate with his Bar Mitzvah ceremony approaching.  For an exchange intended to illicit humor, the nature of this such scene has an adverse effect on its humanistic commentary, and the result becomes a disappointing exercise for those who might have been quick to excite over something as stalely cynical as this mock-shock-gag expo, described as a worthy companion piece.  While Solondz's eye for this kind of exchange in borderline repulsion was so keen in "Happiness", "Life During Wartime" has decided to recycle what cannot appropriately be transposed, as the film begins to objectify the crises of its decidedly ill-fated characters.  It's a shame, since they are - after all - a lost bunch of people, so obviously struggling with a considerable amount of angst.

Then there's the men.

  The male characters in "Happiness" haunted us with a resonance in their passive aggressive disconnection.  Bill Maplewood, played originally by Dylan Baker in arguably one of the most noble and uncompromising performances of the last twenty years, certainly gets a transformative revamp here.  Ciaran Hinds, now in the role as the psychiatrist pedophile who shattered the lives and stability of his family years earlier, starts on a path to reunite with his son Billy (Chris Marquette), who is now at college, and now suffering the ramifications of traumatic stress that his father so consciously and tragically embedded in him.  The culmination of that journey, however, feels rather insensitive to the events that preceded it, and ends on a note that's actually a little offensive given its circumstance.

  I acknowledge that "offensive" is a slippery description of a film that features a pedophile in one of its leading roles, and perhaps I've overextended my critique of a black comedy. Hinds does, as all the actors do here, give a fine performance.  And this is a film about forgiveness, right?  Still, what can't be shaken is the feeling that "Wartime" depends on the bizarre humane window of "Happiness" as a crutch while diminishing that effect, and the material simply can't support it.  One pivotal encounter speaks for itself:

  Hearing a knock on his college dorm room door, Billy answers the door to find his father standing there, waiting for him.  After letting him in, they engage in a discussion in which Bill questions, extensively, his son's sexual nature.  What follows - a disclosure that his son does not have rape fantasies as his father does - suddenly turns into a line of questioning as to whether or not Billy is gay, and the question's response ("No") is met with a smiling sigh of relief.


If he grew up a pedophiliac rapist like me, Bill seems to say, well I'd have someone to relate to.  But at least he's not gay. *Pfhew*.

  Solondz's ambitions to wrestle with themes of forgiveness are admirable, specifically the juxtaposition of intimate family dysfunction and trauma in a post 9/11 world.  But the film lacks the nerve to handle these characters with the compassion that "Happiness" granted, the compassion they deserve.  Instead, a boy without a father works towards false absolution.  Should he be?  If Timmy forgives a father he cannot respect, who isn't there, how can he possess the capacity to forget?  Or does he (like the film he's stuck in) just give him a pass?  Revisiting these characters becomes sickly, frustrating and, well, unforgiving.

★★☆☆☆ (2/5)


Cast & Credits

Joy Jordan:  Shirley Henderson
Allen:  Michael Kenneth Williams
Trish Jordan/Maplewood:  Allison Janney
Harvey Wiener:  Michael Lerner
Timmy Maplewood:  Dylan Riley Snyder
Bill Maplewood:  Ciaran Hinds
Andy:  Paul Reubens
Mona Jordan:  Renee Taylor
Jacqueline:  Charlotte Rampling
Helen Jordan:  Ally Sheedy
Mark Wiener:  Rich Pecci
Wanda:  Gaby Hoffman
Billy Maplewood:  Chris Marquette

IFC Films presents a film written and directed by Todd Solondz.  Running Time: 96 Minutes.  MPAA Rating:  No rating.



You can find this review, its supplemental materials, as well as other extensive film coverage at EInsiders.com.

"Inception" (2010)

Leonardo DiCaprio and Ellen Page peer out onto the shore of the subconscious.  Inception, 2010.

  Imagine Christopher Nolan as a child building sandcastles not unlike the structures in "Inception". Then he destroys them. What he does next is unclear, but I'm certain that before he arrives at that conclusion, he wonders how he built it and what made him destroy it, and that's what fascinates him most.  It's as if the flourishing labyrinths he constructs have never had destinations at all.  Instead, they open reflexive doors that demand exploration.  I doubt Nolan's characters have heard of pre-determinism a day in their lives.  And not since Quentin Tarantino emerged to helm "Pulp Fiction" has a filmmaker been so pristinely clear about the rules by which the dimensions of those characters operate.  Christopher Nolan knows his universe, and guides us through it more as a host than as a writer-director.

  To explain the plot of "Inception" is pointless.  Such an exercise would be like trying to explain someone how to work a Rubick's Cube, rather than just allowing them to navigate it for themselves, discovering as they go.  It is the film's composition, its design, and ultimately its apt ability to evoke response that is infinitely more important. Some may find it laughable. Others will be quick to dismiss its dialogue as shallow minded psycho-babble.  Those in admiration will incessantly pluck through its questionable holes in continuity, obsessing over arguments for something more tangible, more lucid. The objections one may have can only stem from either love or hate. Such is the mark of filmmaking of a high order.

  "Inception" is a deftly blended cocktail of noir and surrealism, pulled off with the conventions of an action thriller that gives dreams a life that is both metaphysical and rich in its enormity. One of the film's secrets is the way in which it avoids giving its guiding vessel, Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio)'s journey one particular purpose. The lengths Cobb will go to attain catharsis are the only inklings he has of a compass. The weight of his conviction is measured by bold and breathtaking physical feats, instead of hand-delivered motivation, or "plot points".

  I have read some criticisms of Nolan's sculpting of this kind of literal dream-scape construct as a negative, and understand where one might find it too objective.  I do not believe in literal confines within narrative as being equated with literal-mindedness, and found it to work for me. With ways in which Cobb describes the depths of dreams he and his team set out to raid, I am reminded of a recurring action sequence from the James Bond franchise - in which Bond scales the outside walls of buildings with a harness and bungee cord, with some delicate determination to infiltrate. In a sense, this is Nolan's own Bond movie, and Cobb is his super-agent.

  Descending, then reascending projections of reality, the subconscious mind, paradoxical occurrences and dreams within dreams manage to keep us in the present of each moment that holds this balance at stake, and translate what could be lost in pseudo-philosophy into compelling adventure. The film invites us to play a game that raises fundamental questions of existentialist dread, while confronting them as the characters do, through classical staples of the great heist and crew-oriented films like 1969's "The Italian Job" or Spielberg's "Munich".

  The pieces to such a game are elaborate, but not without necessity. There is an assembling of Cobb's team that calls into play several members, all with a crucial importance. Their assignment - to perform inception, the covert implantation of an idea in one's mind to pass it off as that person's own idea - becomes fluid with the introduction of associate Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), Eames (Tom Hardy), Yusuf (Dileep Rao), a chemist, and the newly recruited Ariadne (Ellen Page).

  At first I found myself asking why Cobb remained explaining the nature of their dream navigation in such consistent fashion, almost ad nauseam. Then it occurred to me: he's rationalizing this world as he goes, perpetuating the process of this continuous, unraveling one man.  Cobb's brooding over wife Mal (played with haunting grace by Marion Cotillard) intertwines an emotional output that furthers the growth of this obsession with each devastating circumstance that rifts in time.  DiCaprio has solidified his status as our generation's leading man, while adding ink to the stamp he has now made for himself as a purveyor of films dealing with psychological turmoil.  It's a mark he can bear proudly.

Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) plunges into his inner depths.  Inception, 2010.

  All actors bring incredible range and a subtle sense of discovery to their roles.  The character of Ariadne is a fascinating complement to Cobb in a similar respect, with her role as "architect" in their grand scheme sharing this constant discovery with his fiendish self-exploration.  The always fresh Cillian Murphy, as Fischer, a young corporate heir at a crossroads of identity is again inspired in his role.  Fischer's final meeting with a father with whom he has always been at odds plucks at hues of sadness, shame and self-doubt, which is met by a triumph of discourse and humanity.

  Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Arthur is another expertly played performance of straight-forwardness.  At times, he evokes the supporting and balancing sincerity of Robert Duvall's consigliere Tom Hagan in "The Godfather".  Levitt's performance is always quietly calculated, with subtle mediation.  He provides Dom and all those roped into his anxiety-ridden roller coaster with a sense of gravity that allows them to recollect themselves, while setting the film's pacing at ease.

   I'll run the risk of stealing the title from a song by Jason Mraz when I say that "Inception" commands the powers of its cast with the dynamo of volition.

  I have not met Christopher Nolan, and I have yet to hear him speak extensively about "Inception", as it was, as always, my prerogative to maintain a clean slate before absorbing the film.  I do feel, however, that I know something about him.  I know he believes in this construct of dreams he has created, in the same way Machiavelli perceives the world to be able to be condensed in a blueprint of conduct and decisiveness.  I know that he is a man who is unafraid - without hesitation - to make films that exercise his relentless affinity for self-discovery, however dark or unfulfilling it might be.  With "Inception", I think he has reached some level of fulfillment.

  The essence of Nolan's vision could have likely drawn inspiration from the surrealist, paradoxical art of M.C. Escher, those mirroring echoes of deep-seated torment.  Wally Pfister, a collaborator with Nolan dating back ten years ago in 2000's "Memento" deserves an Oscar nomination for his piercing cinematography, which inspires awe on the shores of our most primal human fears and dreams, literally and figuratively.  There is a virtuous motif of a spinning top Cobb keeps nearby that is perhaps the most meditative of all of the director's iconic staples, more so even than the twisted philosophy of the anarchic Joker in his "The Dark Knight".  To follow its presence as you watch, is to succumb to a seduction that harnesses universal principle.

M.C. Escher's Drawing Hands, 1948.

   "Inception" can be viewed as a thorough massaging of the senses and a cerebral fantasy, although Dom Cobb is completely unaware of the existence of such make-watch-easy labels, which enriches the performance leaps and bounds.  Its special effects are never exploited, but brushed over the film's ideas and notions with the faith that they'll stick.  They are astonishing not so much by way of flashy demonstration, but in the way they are transposed, fixated on and revealed.  The misconception of the film as a sci-fi shoot 'em up picture is an unfortunate communication breakdown, with advertising campaigns at the center of responsibility.

  Make no mistake:  this is a film withheld by no boundaries or contrivances.  It's for anyone with a sense of marvel, who still yearns to take flight on their own terms.  And for those who continue to challenge what we should accept as we inhabit the world, as each day passes.

  Nolan's script contains what he understands to be true, designs it in abstraction and holds it to that standard, sending it all the way home.  The film will also prove that virtually none of my review can encapsulate experience, only project it.  I bear in mind that it is July, but for now, he has crafted the most captivating achievement of 2010.


★★★★★ (5/5)


Cast & Credits

Cobb:  Leonardo DiCaprio
Saito:  Ken Watanabe
Arthur:  Joseph Gordon-Levitt
Mal:  Marion Cotillard
Ariande:  Ellen Page
Eames:  Tom Hardy
Robert Fischer, Jr.:  Cillian Murphy
Browning:  Tom Berenger
Miles:  Michael Caine
Yusuf:  Dileep Rao
Maurice Fischer:  Pete Postlethwaite

Warner Brothers presents a film written and directed by Christopher Nolan.  Running time:  148 minutes.  MPAA rating:  PG-13 (For sequences of violence and action throughout).