Movie Review: A Serious Man (2009)

A Serious Man begins strangely, if you consider where it spends the majority of its run time. Sometime in the 1800's, a man comes home in the dead of night to his wife, who is busy cracking ice in a bucket. He bears strange news: On the way home, his cart broke, but a friend passed by and helped him fix it. He's on his way over for soup. What's strange about that? The friend has been dead for three years. He knocks on the door, sits down by the fire, and decides that he doesn't want soup afterall. This, according to the man's wife, is because the man sitting in the chair is a dybbuk, a kind of spirit that inhabits a dead person for whatever reason, here because of a family member's failure to sit shiva. The man apologizes for his wife, telling his guest that he's a rational man and doesn't believe in fairy tales, but eventually he comes to realize, and I won't tell you how, that his family's been cursed.

Flash forward 100 years, to a Minneapolis suburb that's almost blissfully unaware that there's a cultural revolution going on out there. Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg), happily married and on the verge of securing tenure at a university where he teaches physics, is cursed. A student tries to bribe him over a failed test while setting out to blackmail him for accepting bribes. Anonymous letters are being sent to the tenure committee strongly urging that Larry be denied. Larry's brother is sleeping on the couch and is always in the bathroom. His son is more interested in Jefferson Airplane than Hebrew School. Oh, and his wife (Sari Lennick) wants to leave him for Sy Ableman (Fred Melamed), an erudite fellow with a taste for wine and an unsettling remorse for Larry's loss.

Larry, as he is fond of telling everybody, hasn't done anything, so why is he cursed? It could be that he is descended from the two with the dybbuk problem, but the Cohens don't say. Don't count it out. After all, God told Abraham that the number of his descendants would rival the stars...without ever telling Abraham when to expect such a contract to be fulfilled. Or not--maybe the explanation is that there is no explanation, that fate has a way around reason, regardless of how reasonable men consider fairy tales.

After all, that's what the Book of Job is, right? Job's a nice guy, he's got wealth and a good family, honors God and all that. But Satan, who apparently gets to shoot the shit with God regardless of their longstanding feud, has a theory: Job is only pious because he's doing so well. So God gives Satan permission to destroy Job's life, and Satan gives Job the works. He loses his kids, his possessions, Satan afflicts him with boils, his friends come to visit and come to the conclusion that Job has done something to deserve all of this--they berate him so harshly that he curses the day he was born. Eventually God pays a visit and tells Job that it's a problem of perspective--Job can't understand why God allowed him to suffer, because Job hasn't seen the world through God's eyes, which is a rather mild way of telling somebody that you've allowed Satan to screw with you just because he had a hunch. However, Job gets a sweet reward for not cursing God: seven new sons, three new daughters (the most beautiful ones in the land), and double his original wealth.

Shame that nobody told Larry Gopnik what Job's lot in life was, post-smiting. As he is told at a family picnic, he's lucky that he's got thousands of years of tradition to draw upon, but the rabbis that he's referred to seem to miss the most obvious paralell--maybe because Larry isn't covered in boils. A junior rabbi tells Larry that he needs a fresh perspective, that he needs to look on things with wonder. But that's before he knows that Larry's wife is leaving for Sy Ableman. Still, "Consider the parking lot!" is his cry. Rabbi Marshak (Alan Mandell) tells Larry the story of a Jewish dentist who finds the words "Help me" in perfect Hebrew on the back of a gentile's teeth. The dentist, like Larry, frets over the meaning of his message. He asks Marshak, whose two word response puts him at ease. Not so with Larry, who demands an answer. He tries to meet with Rabbi Nachtner (George Wyner), but he rarely does pastoral work outside of speaking with the bar mitsvah boy and is perpetually busy thinking. Meanwhile, things continue to spiral out of control. His brother (Richard Kind) is a suspected gambler and might not be going to singles mixers after all. F-Troop is coming in fuzzy on the TV. One of his neighbors might be anti-semetic. The other sunbathes nude in her backyard and wonders if he's explored the freedoms of divorce. He owes the Columbia Record Club for Santana's Abraxas and, unless he acts quickly, will soon owe them for Credence Clearwater Revival's Cosmo's Factory. That's Larry's problem though--he can't act quickly. He can only watch as everything come crashing down around him.

I greatly admire the Coens, and after the veritable orgy of stars that appeared in Burn After Reading, they turn in a smaller, more focused film with no A-listers in sight. I really dug Burn After Reading, more than most people, I'd imagine, and if told that I could only watch 15 movies for the rest of my life, three of theirs would make the cut, with three or four more earning honorable mention. This movie is is so rich and multi-faceted, and while it might not kick Fargo, The Big Lebowski, or Barton Fink off of my island, it might be the one I'd try hardest to sneak past customs. If you don't live around one of the 262 theaters it's been released to, here's a tip: This is the sort of movie Netflix was invented for. A must see.



The Dude Abides

And this is just awesome...

Is it just me, or is it somewhat ironic that Robocop starred in so many commercials?

If you're anything like me, then Paul Verhoven's 1987 classic Robocop is embarrassingly high on a hypothetical "Best Movies Ever!" list. Say, top 25 or so. Maybe 26, depending on the last time you saw Total Recall.

If you've seen Robocop, you're probably keenly aware of Verhoven's scorn towards the world of consumerism. I mean, it's probably more apparent in the much maligned sequel (Robocop 2, which was cleverly named for the movie's antagonist), but those news broadcasts? The fake commercials? The fact that Detroit is owned by a slightly evil company that plans on leveling the place and putting up a luxury high rise? The "I'd buy that for a dollar!" guy? For a movie about a massive, robotic cop who prowls the mean streets of Detroit, there's an awful lot of jabs at society's greed.

With that in mind, can somebody explain any of the following YouTube videos?















I really want those Robochopsticks.

Amazon.com's description of Sarah Palin's "Going Rogue" is as hilarious as it is wrong...

You probably don't need me to figure this one out, but Sarah Palin's autobiography is going to be huge. The same crowd of people who buy those Wal-Mart exclusive albums from bands who peaked in the mid 1970's are going to eat this book up like hotcakes put in front of a drunk frat boy at IHOP. And Mrs. Palin will not go away. Not now, not ever, and especially not if she manages to snag the G.O.P.'s nomination in 2012, especially if she comes out with another book about policy, lies, deceit, and the evilness of the left. Going Rogue, which comes out in two weeks, should prove to be the ideal launching point, if the product description is anything to go by:

One year ago, Sarah Palin burst onto the national political stage like a comet. Yet even now, few Americans know who this remarkable woman really is.

On September 3, 2008 Alaska Governor and vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin delivered a speech at the Republican National Convention that electrified the nation and instantly made her one of the most recognizable women in the world.

As chief executive of America's largest state, she had built a record as a reformer who cast aside politics-as-usual and pushed through changes other politicians only talked about: Energy independence. Ethics reform. And the biggest private sector infrastructure project in U.S. history. And while revitalizing public school funding and ensuring the state met its responsibilities to seniors and Alaska Native populations, Palin also beat the political "good ol' boys club" at their own game and brought Big Oil to heel.

Like her GOP running mate, John McCain, Palin wasn't a packaged and over-produced candidate. She was a Main Street American woman: a working mom, wife of a blue collar union man, and mother of five children, the eldest of whom was serving his country in a yearlong deployment in Iraq and the youngest, an infant with special needs. Palin's hometown story touched a populist nerve, rallying hundreds of thousands of ordinary Americans to the GOP ticket.

But as the campaign unfolded, Palin became a lightning rod for both praise and criticism. Supporters called her "refreshing" and "honest," a kitchen-table public servant they felt would fight for their interests. Opponents derided her as a wide-eyed Pollyanna unprepared for national leadership. But none of them knew the real Sarah Palin.

In this eagerly anticipated memoir, Palin paints an intimate portrait of growing up in the wilds of Alaska; meeting her lifelong love; her decision to enter politics; the importance of faith and family; and the unique joys and trials of life as a high-profile working mother. She also opens up for the first time about the 2008 presidential race, providing a rare, mom's-eye view of high-stakes national politics—from patriots dedicated to "Country First" to slick politicos bent on winning at any cost.

Going Rogue traces one ordinary citizen's extraordinary journey and imparts Palin's vision of a way forward for America and her unfailing hope in the greatest nation on earth.

It's not even worth picking apart paragraph by paragraph, but just take a look at that mess. I love how Alaska is referred to as "the nation's largest state," which it is, but not in any meaningful way. I love how, in less than 250 words, there are at least 150 different ways of describing Palin as "normal," "down to earth," and "like you, the common man." I also love the reprisal of McCain's awful slogan ("Country First"), and that the words "refreshing" and "honest" appear in quotation marks somewhat ironically.

Going Rogue is only $9 on Amazon, which is a low enough price point that I might just buy it because it’s about the same price as most of the awful horror movies I pay money to see in January for the laughs and frustration. Beyond that, I’ve been looking for the perfect book to pair with The God Delusion, just in case there’s a human in a closet at an Amazon building whose job it is to read receipts. I want to blow minds.

Ric Flair can't control his hands!

I love Ric Flair as much as any other wrestling fan, but part of me is glad that the trainwreck that will be Hogan/Flair is happening in Australia. However, this Hulkamania thing is awesome for one reason: Bringing back the old school "Guy talks in front of logo for two minutes" segments that are sorely missing from today's television. In fact, Flair seems to be channeling The Ultimate Warrior:



And Hogan?



He sure seems excited to face the self pork claimed greatest wrestler in the world. More excited by the possibility that Flair will submit to his will.

Woo.

Movie Review: Cold Souls (2009)

Half of me wants to admit that Cold Souls was an impulse decision--that I went to it because the French guy sleeping on the top bunk at the hostel in Philadelphia was snoring much too loudly at ten in the morning and that once my eyes were open with the sun shining in them, I had no choice but to shower, eat, and amble around Philly until my friend got off of work and seeing a movie at the prestigious Ritz East, where I'd previously seen The Hurt Locker seemed more worthwhile than the ultimate touristy endeavor, the guided tour.

However, that's not the entire truth, as the other half of me wants to believe that I went and saw Cold Souls because I was ashamed at having missed Charlie Kaufman's directing debut, last year's Synecdoche, New York. I know that Kaufman has absolutely nothing to do with the film, but watch the trailer for this high concept movie and tell me that it doesn't draw inspiration from Kaufman's work. The giant soul-ripping machine, the emphasis on the eclectic actors-as-artistes set, or what happens when a person's soul is snatched and put into a different body; all of these feel somewhat fimiliar, heck, even if you've only seen one of Kaufman's films.

Even though Kauffman's fingerprints are smudging the lens a bit, director Sophie Barthes' debut dances away from any direct accusations of copycating. It's a different movie alright, for better and for worse. This is an extremely straight forward movie with a clear narrative arc. Paul Giamatti, playing himself, finds that he is unable to get into the body of a character in one of Chekov's plays. He reads an article in the New Yorker about soul storage, goes to check it out for himself, climbs into the giant CT Scan looking machine and, presto!, out comes the soul, looking for all the world like a chickpea.

If you, like me, thought that what would follow would be a deep, meaningful excursion into one of life's bigger questions, the actual events the movie depicts after Giamatti consents may be a little disappointing. There are the usual platitudes about beautiful souls, albeit that they come with a nice poetic flourish, but, for the most part, the movie becomes a limp-wristed dramedy about Paul's attempt to get his soul back from a Russian mobster who has stolen it to give to his wife, who wants the soul of a great actor because she wants to do well in her role on a Russian sitcom.

This is what they call a "missed opportunity." Take away all of the comparisons between Sophie Barthes' debut film and the work of Kaufman, and you've still got a high concept that can go places and do things. While soulless Paul Giamatti can't act, can't get it up, and is somewhat lecherous, that's as far as the movie goes in examining the consequences of extracting your soul, looking at the damn thing, and putting it on ice. Paul is so unhappy that he requests a new soul, and, when that doesn't work, his soul, and when that doesn't work out because his soul's in Russia, we're so far away from the meat of the story that one wonders if there was any meat there at all. The high concept is trivial in the face of the movie's fetish for dry humor. Considering that I spent more of my time wondering if the soul storage procedure, which produces a change so minuscule that it probably wouldn't be noticed were it not for the script's pointing it out, was a sham played on poor Paul Giamatti and other like-minded readers of The New Yorker than I did laughing at any of the jokes, that's a crying shame.

Still, I wanted to like Cold Souls, even after I left the theater and walked back to the hostel, wondering why I still wanted to like it. It's the damned concept. Looking at my DVD collection, there are tons of films where quirky protagonists are forced to stand outside of themselves in order to get a better understanding of who they are and how they operate. This seems to be a favorite theme of indie film-making, the disaffected loner rising above whatever inner turmoil is stopping them from living life. It's something I've seen done much better before. And considering that Synecdoche, New York is the next thing in my Netflix queue, I'm sure it's something that I'll see done much better in the future.



Yeah, Well, That's Just Your Opinion, Man

Glitter/Doom

Tom Waits is going on tour to promote his new, live album, Glitter and Doom. You can download the first 8 songs from the new album here. Its surly worth a listen.

Of particular delight to me was the live version of 'Get Behind the Mule' (previously on Mule Variations, 1999). I was less impressed by the re-working 'Singapore' but if you are familiar with the original (Rain Dogs, 1985) you can understand how it is a difficult song to improve on. But easily the most enjoyable track on the preview comes just before the end with 'Circus.' Its classic Tom Waits- five minutes of his alcoholic pirate drawl describing the big top for the down and out.

cml