Tonight’s Silver Medallion Tribute to David Fincher at the Telluride Film Festival closed with a screening of 20 minutes of Fincher’s much-anticipated new film, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, starring Brad Pitt as a baby born old who reverse-ages over eight decades. Fincher called the footage “a series of scenelets,” meaning that, unlike the single reel of There Will Be Bloodshown at last year’s tribute to Daniel Day-Lewis, this reel was cut together to give us a teasing glimpse of the wider narrative and scope of the film.
First impression: it’s impressive. It’s absolutely gorgeous, for starters. Coming as it did after a show reel featuring excerpts from Fincher’s music videos and adverts (both cut into a montage set to “How Soon is Now?” by The Smiths, weirdly and unadvisedly divorcing both pop and product promos from what they were made to promote) and each of his features aside from Alien³, it’s clear that Fincher has moved beyond the cool blacks and blues with florescent highlights that have thus far defined his visual style. It’s a period epic, so the broader visual palette makes sense, but it came as a relief that, within all this beauty, the effects used to transform Pitt first into an 80-year-old man and then backwards into a child felt of a piece and not overwhelmingly effect-y.
Also exciting: though the reel gives every hint that Button is a proper epic tearjerker about love and pain and time and blah blah blah, it’s also infused with the dry, quippy sense of humor that cuts through the darkest swatches of Fincher’s filmography. This is, after all, the man who says he wanted to make Fight Club because he thought the book was “hilarious [and] ridiculous. But I’m an asshole.”
A detailed run-down of the clip follows after the jump. Not having seen the full film, I can’t say for sure whether or not there are spoilers, so I suppose if you want to know absolutely nothing, don’t click.
It’s funny how out of control a rumor can spin on the web. The Angelina Jolie as Catwoman “news” has to be at the top of the list of most reported unconfirmed rumors ever. And it’s sad that it’s not actually true, because after seeing Jolie in the dominatrix outfit she wears at the beginning of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I’d be perfectly fine seeing her wear another tight black costume for a possible third Christopher Nolan-directed Batman movie.
But who instead could play the part, if Jolie is indeed not interested, or not even offered the role (or, obviously, if Catwoman is not in the movie, as screenwriter David Goyer has apparently hinted)? One theory says that Maggie Gyllenhaal will return in the follow-up to The Dark Knight, this time donning a catsuit (Graeme at io9 strongly disputes the idea). Another terrible suggestion is to cast the too-cute Zooey Deschanel as the villainess. A far more interesting recommendation, from Catherine Bray, is Tilda Swinton. But I think the character needs to be a little sexier. Plus, I want to dismiss Bray’s idea on the principle that it’s included in the DenOfGeek list, which consists mostly of the usual hot young actress ideas that probably get thrown around for every casting decision like this.
I’m actually shocked that Eva Green wasn’t anyone’s pick, as she’s one of those hot young actresses, and she’s done the “good and bad at the same time” thing in Casino Royale. She was even part of my list until a better candidate edged her out, mostly on the idea that we don’t need to see her replay Vesper Lynd in a Catwoman costume. So, who did make the cut? Check out my 10 favorites, in descending order, after the jump:
We could do without the introduction with clips from the past three films. Just as Spielberg has pointed out in a recent promotional video, all we need is that first shadow on the jeep. Because few characters in cinema are able to be recognized on silhouette alone, and Indy is one of those few. But why should I complain about anything having to do with this long-awaited trailer for one of the most highly anticipated films of all time (Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull!)? Could it be that we’re all a bit cynical and are just waiting for it to be a Star Wars-prequels-size disappointment? Yeah, it could be that. However, there’s no denying that, aside from a few quips (obviously we knew there’d be jokes about Indy’s age — hence the “Damn, I thought that was closer” gag), it looks really friggin awesome.
Perhaps I’m just giddy over the shot of something with “Roswell, New Mexico” written on it (Raiders meets Close Encounters!). And the definite (but by now not at all surprising) callback to the warehouse where the Ark of the Covenant was hidden away. Or maybe I’m just drawn in by Cate Blanchett and her bad-ass Commie bob. Or is it the score, the whip, the Marion!? Am I too excited? Of course. But so is everyone else. I had planned to link to a number of reactions this afternoon, but unfortunately there are few bloggers or commenters with more to say than “YES! AWESOME!”
At The Envelope, Tom O’Neil has a no-names-named recap of what went on at yesterday’s New York Film Critics Circle vote. First: the inside story on I’m Not There’s aforementioned non-showing:
I’m Not There did surprisingly well in many top races today. It didn’t win any awards, but it came in third place for best picture after champ No Country for Old Men and runner-up There Will Be Blood. Ditto for its helmer Todd Haynes, who placed third in the directors’ lineup behind the winning Coen brothers and second-placed Paul Thomas Anderson…In the supporting-actress race, Cate Blanchett came in second place.
I don’t know how “surprising” that really is, considering that three of the critics in the room are on the record as giving the film a score of 90 or higher. I think the only surprise is that the staunchest suckers for Haynes’ soulless scrapbook schtickdefenders of the film actually let it leave the room without a single honor, and apparently without a fight. But let’s move on…
Amy Ryan has snagged at least five awards in the past four business days (I lost count after the NBR, New York critics, LA critics, DC critics and San Francisco critics) for her work in Ben Affleck’s Gone Baby Gone, and has thus usurped Cate Blanchett as the presumptive frontrunner in the Best Supporting Actress Oscar race. This is, to me, a fairly shocking turn of events, and judging by the noise it’s creatingamongstOscarbloggers, I’m not totally alone in my surprise.
It doesn’t help that Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There––the film that prompted Harvey Weinstein to promise to shoot himself if it didn’t net Blanchett an Oscar nomination––has been all but shut out of the critical derby thus far. I was particularly surprised to see the film earn nary a nod from the New York Film Critics Circle–it certainly has no shortage of local, effusivedefenders. And yet, the film has sort of slunk into the shadows of the season. Putting Harvey’s silly, trigger-happy bravado aside, it’s no secret that The Weinstein Company is hurting for hits, and so far, There is part of the problem; still on less than 150 screens and consistently dropping 30% from weekend to weekend, I don’t see how the distributor will be able to justify any kind of expansion unless there’s a major, major reversal in awards momentum.
The question is: where’s the loudest man in pseudo-indie distribution when his films really need him?
In the latest “What’s wrong with The Weinstein Company?” piece from the New York Times (Michael Cieply penned the previous installment of the saga, six months back), David Carr begins with the thesis, “For the second year in a row, Harvey and Bob have had some significant misses at the box office and probably won’t be major players at the Oscars.” He then offers a pack of typically hyperbolic denials from Harvey Weinstein. Among them is Harvey contention that his studio does, in fact, have a hand to play at the Oscars–behind Denzel Washington’s latest directorial effort, The Great Debaters, and the John Cusack war widower drama Grace is Gone.
But nowhere in the story does Weinstein mention I’m Not There, the film featuring the performance which prompted Weinstein to bellow just two months ago, “If Cate Blanchett doesn’t get nominated, I’ll shoot myself.”
Sure, it’s possible that Weinstein *did* flog Todd Haynes divisive Dylan film in his interview with the Times‘ David Carr, and the quote just didn’t make it into the final draft. It’s also possible that Carr, satisfied with the mogul’s name-checking of two barely-buzzing star vehicles, neglected to push the issue. But it could also be a sign that, despite his earlier bravado, Harvey’s been burned too much, too often of late to really stand behind a semi-difficult sell.
A number of films that we’ve covered previously on SpoutBlog are either opening or expanding this weekend:
Across the Universe: Julie Taymor’s Beatles musical has grossed almost $9 million over the last month in limited release, mainly drawing (as I predicted) repeat crowds of young women. The weekend, it expands to just under 1,000 screens. I’m not personally much of a fan, but I figure every generation of teenage stoners-cum-theater brats need a Hair, and I can’t begrudge them that. Read my Toronto coverage here.
Control: I was a big fan of Anton Corbijn’s Ian Curtis biopic at Toronto. In hindsight, I do wonder if the film will fall flatter for those who don’t go in with an emotional attachment to Joy Division’s music. But it’s still a fascinating character study, and of course, the cinematography is tremendously satisfying. Read my Toronto review here.
Elizabeth: The Golden Age: Destined to become some kind of camp classic, this sequel to 1998’s Elizabeth is artless at concealing its Freudian metaphors in a way that only truly miscalculated films can be. At Toronto, I wrote: “The Golden Age plays out in a very binary, comic-book reminiscent universe, in which Spain isn’t merely a sovereign nation pursing interests in conflict to that of Britain–the country as a whole is a supernatural embodiment of evil…The Queen is able to bounce from emotional devastation to patriotic warmongering with a flick of a switch; for the rest of us, the transition may not be as easy.”
The Darjeeling Limited: Another shot of crack for fans of Wes Anderson’s visual style, but with a stronger emphasis on character than some of his recent outings. If the idea of a film revolving around a set of limited-edition Marc Jacobs luggage sounds really annoying, this may not be the film for you. But watch the short-film prequel, Hotel Chevalier, on iTunes, read my coverage from NYFF, and if your Anderson allergy hasn’t yet flared up, go see the movie.
At Tuesday’s press conference following the press and industry screening of I’m Not There, writer/director Todd Haynes talked about referencing Godard and Fellini (but not, he insists, Don’t Look Back), the ability of film to collapse time, and why he chose to cast a woman and a black child to represent two of the six disparate facets of Bob Dylan’s life. We have audio from the press conference after the jump; to skip to a specific section of the 28-minute clip, see these handy show notes:
00:01: Getting Bob Dylan’s music and life rights
04:03: Why six Dylans?
04:49: Working in different film stocks/formats
05:41: Dylan didn’t have approval of details
06:29: The collapse of time, in the film and in Dylan’s work
09:21: On breaking free of the constraints of the biopic
11:23: Casting
12:51: Don’t say Don’t Look Back
16:05: References to other films
21:41: Fitting the strands of the story together
23:48: Why have Dylan played by a woman?
25:45: Portraying Dylan’s cultural influences, and Dylan-as-wannabe
Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There is a postmortem–but of what, exactly? It opens with the examination of a corpse, played by Cate Blanchett; the press notes tell us we’re supposed to connect this image to Bob Dylan’s 1968 motorcycle accident, in which he almost died but didn’t, and after which he was allegedly never the same. So on some level, it’s a love letter to a dead man whose body is still with us-–although, at the press conference following the New York Film Festival screening of the film yesterday, Haynes kept referring to Dylan in the past tense, as though his own private Dylan was long gone and never to return–but it’s also a catalogue of various shards of the dead culture of the 1960s. It’s as vital as it sounds: like so many of Haynes’ films, it’s based on a provocative concept that plays in practice like a museum piece.
It’s a collage of personality impressions and visual styles. Grainy, fluttering black and white gives way to a bottle green landscape, spotted with the second best psychedelic lens flares of the NYFF thus far. The film’s hallucinatory logic seems at first to defy any kind of stricture, until the references start to stack up: visual quotations from Dylan album covers, The Beatles doing silent comedy, La Strada; actual, scripted quotations from at least two Godard films. Each of the six protagonists is a walking (though hardly living or breathing) quotation, a riff on a Dylan phase or personality thread. A young ruffian who uses poetry to deliver uncomfortable truths to The Man. A prepubescent compulsive liar. A misunderstood prophet who finds his true calling by turning to God. An aging cowboy in hiding, laying low in a town obsessed with Halloween. A bad actor who becomes a big star and neglects the woman he loves. A put-opon speed freak who uses pop music to deliver uncomfortable truths to The Man.
What a strange hybrid The Golden Age is: a sequel, a costume fantasy, a romantic melodrama, a CGI war spectacular, a puzzling celebration of beauty over substance. It’s sort of an historical epic, although it doesn’t seem to care much about historical accuracy. If anything, it recasts the Anglo-Spanish War as a battle between superheroes (ie: British Protestants) and villains (ie: Catholics, particularly of the Spanish variety), with the former’s only impediment to success the pesky distractions of romantic rejection.
The meat of the film is the mutual but unequal admiration shared by Queen Elizabeth I (Cate Blanchett, reprising her Oscar-nominated role from 1998 film Elizabeth) and explorer/pirate/raconteur Sir Walter Raleigh (Clive Owen). (As far as I can tell, there’s no evidence that a personal relationship between Raleigh and the Queen ever developed, although Elizabeth did regularly sponsor his adventures.) In the film’s opening scenes, the Queen’s handlers tell her she’ll be less susceptible to threats to the throne (coming primarily from her imprisoned cousin, Mary Queen of Scots, who is not-so-secretly conspiring with the king of Spain) if she gets herself a husband and a baby. Raleigh shows up at the palace one day to present the Queen with tobacco from the newly-christened Virginia, and coincidentally walks right into an ensuing parade of suitors. He is the only man who earns a return invitation.
The unshaven Raleigh leaves his pirate boots on when he comes calling on the Queen, and as this rare specimen of man swaggers through the cavernous palace halls, bodices rip open on their own. Though conscious of the fact that the glorified pirate is not exactly marriage material, Elizabeth is smitten–so much so, that she allows herself to mistake Raleigh’s interest in her pocketbook for a romantic interest in her person. Raleigh humors Elizabeth in public, but privately betrays her affections. Though advisers keep warning that the situation with Spain is coming to a head, Elizabeth is increasingly, blindly focused on her all-consuming crush. The idea that the most powerful woman in the Western world could make it to her early 50s with her virginity proudly intact, only to become so besotted with a man that she lets crucial matters of international relations fall by the way side, is the first of the film’s many leaps of faith.
It’s funny how out of control a rumor can spin on the web. The Angelina Jolie as Catwoman “news” has to be at the top of the list of most reported unconfirmed rumors ever. And it’s sad that it’s not actually true, because after seeing Jolie in the dominatrix outfit she wears at the beginning of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I’d be perfectly fine seeing her wear another tight black costume for a possible third Christopher Nolan-directed Batman movie.
At 
Amy Ryan has snagged at least five awards in the past four business days (I lost count after the 
A number of films that we’ve covered previously on SpoutBlog are either opening or expanding this weekend:
