Think. Think more. Think again. It was supposed to be a filler for lack of attention-grabbing titles or creative chutzpah, but then it's almost funny, kinda like a parody of the affirmation that we're human beings. Well, this is life. As I know it. What I think is what you get.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
'little' wonders
Over the weekend, I watched Little Miss Sunshine and Little Children until the wee hours of the morning. Sunshine is the debut of filmmakers Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, with an ensemble cast composed of Greg Kinnear, Toni Collette, Steve Carell, the comebacking Alan Arkin, Paul Dano and the talented Abigail Breslin, as the honest kid in search of that elusive beauty crown. Some of the cast are up for acting nods like Breslin, Collette and Carell, who is playing a gay Proust scholar. Carell's take on the role recalls Jim Carrey's move when he ventured into films like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
Touted by critics as a 'gem' of a small film, Sunshine delights with its honest script and very nuanced portrayal of each of the characters. It's a road trip movie but the one in which not only an individual gets his or her shot at self-rediscovery but the entire family. There's something really striking in the scenes where they have to push their van to get it started and graciously jump in one by one.
One of the characters I really liked the most was Paul Dano who plays the brother of Breslin. During the opening scenes, we learned that Dano has taken a vow of silence in preparation of his stint with the airforce. He is reading Nietzche and writes down in a pad whenever he wants to say something. He reluctantly goes with the family on the trip to California for the Little Miss Sunshine beauty pageant. While on the road and doing riddles, his little sister and his uncle discovered he's color-blind thus he can't pursue the airforce. He prodded to stopped the van as if he is about to vomit and then run amok. He screamed THE F WORD, thus breaking his vow of silence for nine months. This sequence for me is really one the defining and shining moments of the film.
****
Children, on the other hand, is an adaptation of a novel of the same title and directed for the screen by Todd Field. Kate Winslet plays Sarah Pierce who is caught in an adulterous affair with neighbor Brad played by Patrick Wilson. The character and relationships explored in the film is a smart critique of the seemingly antiseptic superficiality of suburban America.
Winslet's character is alluded to Madam Bovary, and this is made obvious during one of the scenes wherein the lady neighbors gathered for their scheduled literary discussion to discuss on what else but Madam Bovary. The acerbic glances and piercing dialogue that ensued in fact is a point of explanation of Winslet's character, her eventual transformation and the choices she has and is going to make as the movie draws to its end.
One of the interesting characters though is Ronnie McGorvey, played by Jackie Earl Haley, who's quite a revelation in this one. I never saw him before in other films, and he looks like a creep, and yes, he plays a creep in the film, at least from the neighbors' perception. He is constantly being hounded by the people around him due to his 'psycho-sexual disorder' to the point that banners were pasted along the neighborhood saying "Are Your Children Safe?", with his mugshot below. Ronnie went on to masturbate in front of his date to drive home this Freudian point. His only confidante, his mother, eventually succumbed to cardiac arrest, after a fight with their neighbor Larry, who megaphoned the neighborhood shouting "your children are not safe" in the middle of the night. Crushed by her death and the deathnote 'please be a good boy', Ronnie mutilated his penis and ran towards the playground.
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f—king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f—king junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?
Renton, Trainspotting
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