Review #73 THE LAST CASTLE (2001, Rod Lurie)

 

* * * 

In a tough military prison, one inmate leads a rebellion against the corrupt warden. 

Starring  Robert Redford, James Gandolfini, Mark Ruffalo, Clifton Collins Jr, Delroy Lindo 

Written by  David Scarpa, Graham Yost 

Produced by  Robert Lawrence 

Duration  132 minutes

Separating art from the artist. Some people really struggle with it. Since I think that a rational, intelligent person, one who can tell fantasy from reality, should have no problem, I try my best. 

I'll still watch a Woody Allen movie (well, I haven't bothered with most of the newer ones; I'm talking about his mid-70s to mid-90s peak). As an example from a different medium, I remember how when I was at school, many people said they hated Oasis because they couldn’t stand the Gallagher brothers; personally, I wasn't dwelling on their personalities when I was belting along to 'Live Forever' or 'Supersonic'.

But I do struggle sometimes. Specifically, with two actors. One is Kevin Spacey; that's a strange one for me, though. Rather than boycotting the movies he's in, I actually find that his reputation now enhances his performances, since most of his characters are unsavoury and/or predatory types anyway (heartfelt attempts like PLAY IT FORWARD were never going to work, let's face it.)

The other actor is Robert Redford. I was always a little suspicious of his golden boy looks and megawatt smile, exacerbated with INDECENT PROPOSAL, where he plays an all-time sleazeball with a billionaire's arrogant lack of accountability.

But it was reading Peter Biskind's Down and Dirty Pictures that left me never being able to look at Redford the same way again. 

The book is pretty much the '90s version of Biskind's more famous Easy Riders, Raging Bulls, which was about the '70s movie brats (Scorsese, Friedkin, De Palma, Spielberg, etc). Pictures covers the independent movie scene of the late 20th Century. Included are Quentin Tarantino, Kevin Smith, Steven Soderbergh, Paul Thomas Anderson, David O Russell ... and, rather regrettably, Miramax, AKA the Weinstein brothers. 

And it has many chapters on the Sundance Film Festival, founded by one Charles Robert Redford Jr. Biskind portrays Redford as unreliable and full of himself; woefully under-committed to his own institution, forever breaking promises and failing to turn up. Now, the author does admit to having a vendetta against Redford, for reasons that remain vague, and the actor/director doesn't seem to have this reputation anywhere else. Yet the description stuck with me, and I haven't been able to view Butch Cassidy's pal in the same light since.

Redford is a charisma actor: more charm than talent. And that can work; hell, it usually does, that's kind of the point. But not all viewers can be won over. I have a friend, for instance, who doesn't like George Clooney, finding him smarmy and smug. And while I can see his point, my own heart melted 30 years ago watching salt and pepper-haired Dr Doug Ross every Thursday night on ER, and he's had a hold on me ever since.

Redford's THE LAST CASTLE co-star James Gandolfini was another charisma actor, albeit also a supremely talented performer overall. Here, however, he plays your archetypal sadistic warden. (More on Gandolfini in a minute.)

Yes, this is a prison movie – a military prison movie, but I don't think that makes much of a difference. As such, the first thing the modern viewer does is compare the film to modern titan of the genre THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION. And it starts similarly, with new prisoners arriving and the current inmates (including a young Mark Ruffalo) placing bets on who won't last the first night. But it soon takes its own path.

Redford's character, one of those newbies, is spoken about in revered, awed tones before he even appears onscreen. He's a highly decorated general, who turns up to this prison (nicknamed 'the castle') in full uniform and medals, although he's down to his vest after checking into his cell – still looking good at 65, Bob!

Adapting to life inside, General Redford mostly keeps himself to himself. He just wants to quietly do his time while absorbing people telling him things like "you are a great man, you've done so much for your country!" and "my father said you kept him alive in Hanoi!" Sometimes, he breaks things up by delivering inspirational speeches, most notably to a stammering Clifton Collins Jr. 

(If it's ever revealed what this saint among men did to end up behind bars, I missed it. Something about disobeying a direct order, I think. Was probably one of those morally murky ones.)

Warden Gandolfini, meanwhile, keeps himself amused with stunts like confiscating the inmates' basketballs and gleefully watching the resultant brawl from a window in his ivory tower. He lets the fighting go on until he gets bored, and then tells the guards to shoot some prisoners at random.

And Redford's soon running afoul of the warden's tyranny, when the prison boss decides to knock Mr War Hero down a peg or two. He's punished for standing up for the other prisoners and forced to arbitrarily carry heavy rocks from one side of the yard to the other. For this, we upgrade from vest to a shirtless Redford, curly ginger chest hair and all. 

Next, he starts persuading these thieves and murderers and whatever else to rebuild a broken wall, as a symbolic act of loyalty and companionship. And from there, it's a battle of wits to the end, with Redford deciding that it's going to be him who runs this penal establishment, not the onetime Tony Soprano. By the end, the former is leading a full-on prison escape/battle which, as per the whole 'castle' motif, resembles the final stretch of ROBIN HOOD: PRINCE OF THIEVES, with Gandolfini even eyeing up a ceremonial sword he has displayed in his office as an option to charge into battle with.

I also wanted to mention Delroy Lindo, who turns up as Redford's ex-colleague and advocate. Only because a) Lindo was such a beloved staple of '90s cinema (THE HARD WAY, CONGO, GET SHORTY [also with Gandolfini], BROKEN ARROW, RANSOM, A LIFE LESS ORDINARY, etc); and b) while ostensibly from the USA, he actually spent his early childhood in the London borough of Lewisham. Respect due.

As for THE LAST CASTLE itself ... it's fine. Redford won't annoy most people and, to be fair, he's likable enough here. Biskind was probably wrong ... probably. It's not among the greatest prison movies (SHAWSHANK, ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ, that part in FACE/OFF) and is a little too rah-rah flag-waving for this non-American. I mean, the Goddamn climax is a bullet-ridden Redford hoisting up the stars and stripes, with the flag then filling the screen as the movie fades to black over triumphant music.

But if you like stories about men behind bars overcoming adversity, then it'll do fine. Plus at one point Ruffalo pilots a helicopter and destroys a guard tower with its tail rotor. That's something Morgan Freeman's crusty lifer Red never got to do, at least.

Three stars out of five.

Additional: Another point in Redford's favour is his 1980 directorial debut, ORDINARY PEOPLE, which I happened to watch recently. What a great movie! It definitely takes the title of most forgotten '80s Best Picture winner away from THE LAST EMPEROR. Only, you know, undeservedly forgotten in this case.

Valid use of the word ‘last’? I guess it’s supposed to be some kind of metaphor for changing times, or maybe the overcoming the ‘last castle’ in all of us? 

What would a movie called THE FIRST CASTLE be about?  An hilarious and charming coming of age story about two young brothers who both enter a sandcastle building competition. 

Previously:  THE LAST FACE

Next time:  THE LAST JOURNEY

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

Review #72 THE LAST FACE (2016, Sean Penn)

 * 

They were two people in love, during a war. The war was brutal. But just as brutal … was their love.

Starring  Charlize Theron, Javier Bardem, Adèle Exarchopoulos, Jean Reno

Written by  Erin Dignam   

Produced by  Bill Gerber, Matt Palmieri, Bill Pohlad

Duration  132 minutes

 

 

THE LAST FACE reminds me of SUPERMAN III. Bear with me a minute.

It would be so easy to get the wrong idea about an actor if you only knew them from one film, and if that role turned out to be atypical.

Imagine if the only Bruce Willis movie you'd ever seen was DEATH BECOMES HER, where he plays a hen-pecked, nerdy plastic surgeon. Or if for Tom Hanks it was as an enforcer for the Irish mafia in ROAD TO PERDITION. Or Cameron Diaz as a mousey spinster in BEING JOHN MALKOVICH. Or what about nice guys playing villains: Albert Brooks in DRIVE, Steve Carrell in FOXCATCHER, Tom Cruise in COLLATERAL or MAGNOLIA, Stanley Tucci in THE LOVELY BONES, Henry Fonda in ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST …

For me, it's Richard Pryor. Watching the Christopher Reeve Superman movies growing up, the one that made the biggest impression on me was the much-maligned SUPERMAN III (although it’s not as maligned as film number four, nuclear disarmament propaganda THE QUEST FOR PEACE). The movie exists for me as a succession of memories: the chemical factory fire, with its bubbling jars of acid and Supes freezing a nearby lake to use for water; the Man of Steel getting drunk and picking a junkyard fight with his physically manifested bespectacled alter ego; the female villain being restrained by wires while a supercomputer builds her into a terrifying, metal-eyed robot lady.

All that, and also Richard Pryor. Bumbling, wisecracking, downtrodden, seduced by bad influences for a taste of success – but actually a harmless goof. Pryor had played this type on screen before and would again, but only after first having burned himself into the public’s consciousness as a no-holds-barred stand-up comedian. The family-friendly comedies and collaborations with Gene Wilder only came later, and for most people those were a departure from the edginess they had come to know. But pre-teenage me had no idea about Pryor being a brilliant deliverer of hilarious and profanity-leaden monologues about contemporary America.

Now, as evidenced by the list above, a casting aberration is often when someone who is usually virtuous becomes a baddie, or the usually glamorous plays dowdy. And there is, of course, a tradition of comedians segueing into dramatic roles. Robin Williams is a good example, going back and forth throughout his career. But while the ultimately feelgood GOOD WILL HUNTING or AWAKENINGS or WHAT DREAMS MAY COME are one thing, if all you’d seen is ONE HOUR PHOTO (stalker) or INSOMNIA (murderer) or AUGUST RUSH (child exploiter) or DEAD AGAIN (disgraced psychiatrist) or DEATH TO SMOOCHY (alcoholic children’s entertainer), you’d have a far different impression of the former Mork from Ork – despite the fact that clearly he always wanted to stretch himself with a range of roles.

All of this brings us to the director of THE LAST FACE. Sean Penn has to be the most humourless person to ever get his break playing a comedic role; or indeed to have ever given such an inaccurate first impression of how his career would end up. Penn's first major part was as archetypal stoner Jeff Spicoli in FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH: long blond hair, “woah, dude!” surfer talk, Vans trainers, hilarious teacher-baiting stunts like ordering pizza to the classroom – basically, nothing like the Penn we would come to know and … um, to know. And sure enough, only one year later he was headlining uncompromising juvie flick BAD BOYS, forging a career path of dourness and self-seriousness (his cameo in Friends notwithstanding).

Now, with THE LAST FACE, we aren't dealing with Penn the actor; I know that. But his natural sensibility transfers to his work behind the camera – and that is entirely evident in this, his fifth feature and surely his worst (for the record, I really liked his one before, INTO THE WILD).

No one can claim that Penn doesn't have good intentions. He certainly wanted to highlight some serious issues, judging by the opening salvo (white text over an outline of Africa, in a graphic style that bizarrely recalls the opening of ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK):

 

Ten years apart, the Liberian civil war of 2003 and the ongoing conflict with South Sudan today share a singular brutality of corrupted innocence.

Heavy. OK, but then straight after we get this, which turns out to be a grim portent of the quality of movie coming up:

 

A corruption of innocence only known to the West by any remotely common degree ... through the brutality of an impossible love ... shared by a man ... and a woman ...

Um, what?

Then we're into a cosy domestic scene of our impossibly gorgeous stars, Charlize Theron and Javier Bardem, whispering sweet nothings to each other in soft-focus close ups. So, I guess this is the love between the man and the woman that is going to be both brutal and impossible, to the extent that it is the only way that Westerners such as us (and them – although Charlize is actually South African) can 'know' a pair of years-apart but comparable African wars?

It's pretty confusing, and kind of an odd premise for an ostensibly sincere project. And pretty tasteless, too, right? Wouldn't it have been better to highlight the plight of the Liberians and Sudanese by, you know, focusing on the actual people from those countries?

And as we follow this allegorical love story over 132 tedious minutes, as Charlize lobbies stuffy men in stuffy rooms and Javier plunges arm deep into bloody corpses in hospital tents, the awkwardness of the movie's conceit never lets us go.

It's there in the predictable, sub-romcom ups and downs of their relationship. It's there in the cheesy dialogue, overblown speeches and forced emotion. It's there in the marginalising of talented co-stars like Jean Reno, Adèle Exarchopoulos and Jared Harris. And it's definitely there in the swelling Hans Zimmer score, one of his rare paint-by-numbers jobs that lets no melodramatic moment pass by without mining it for maximum melodrama.

THE LAST FACE got booed at its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival. You hear that now and then about a movie, and usually it turns out to be not so bad in the end.

This isn't one of those occasions.

Come back, Jeff Spicoli, all is forgiven! Pizzas all round!

One star out of five.

 

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  I have no idea what this movie’s title means. The last face you see before you die? Is it Javier's? Charlize's? ... Sean Penn's?!

What would a movie called THE FIRST FACE be about?  “In the early 11th century, Ibn al-Haytham's Maqala fi al-Binkam described a mechanical water clock that, for the first time in history, accurately measures time in hours and minutes. To represent the hours and minutes, Ibn al-Haytham invented ... a clock face.” I want to see that as a movie, History Wiki!

Previously:  THE LAST MAN

Next time:  THE LAST CASTLE

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

Review #71 THE LAST MAN (2019, Rodrigo H Vila)

 

* 

It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel … like it’s yet another post-apocalypse movie, this time with a lot of brooding, murky visuals and Hayden Christensen.

Starring  Hayden Christensen, Harvey Keitel, Marco Leonardi, Liz Solari, Justin Kelly, Rafael Spregelburd

Written by  Rodrigo H Vila, Gustavo Lencina   

Produced by  Gustavo Lencina, Rodrigo H Vila

Duration  100 minutes   

 

(Ring ring, ring ring)

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi, um, is that Mr Keitel?”

 

“No, Mr Keitel is my father.”

 

“Oh … um, but …”

 

“And also me. I’m just teasing you, son.”

 

“Right …”

 

“What can I do for you?”

 

“Sorry to call so late … it’s Hayden.”

 

“I’m sorry … who?”

 

“Hayden Christensen.”

 

“From the contractor? Ah, I’m glad you called, son. I needed to talk to you about windows. Now, my wife, she thinks we should be getting the oak frames, but me, well …”

 

“No, sorry, I’m not calling about your, uh, about your windows.”

 

“Oh, I apologise. So, who did you say you were?”

 

“Christensen, Hayden Christensen.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“From the STAR WARS prequels?”

 

“Oh, you were the little kid, from that space race?”

 

“No, that was Jake Lloyd. Look, Mr Keitel–”

 

“Harvey.”

 

“Harvey, I’m Hayden Christensen. We’re gonna be in this movie together, THE LAST MAN?”

 

“Oh, right! Now I remember. And son, I was right the first time.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, I’m only doing that movie so I can get us a sunroom in the Malibu place. Or a solarium, whatever you call it. So, in a way, you were calling me about that.”

 

“... Right.”

 

“So, what’s on your mind, Hayden? Young Padawan?”

 

“Well, Mr … Harvey. It’s just that … I’m having second thoughts about the movie.”

 

“Oh? Can’t your agent negotiate a better fee?”

 

“No, it’s not the money … although … no, that’s the thing. I’m not doing it just for the money.”

 

“Of course you’re not. You’re young.”

 

“Well, I’m 37 now …”

 

“Really? Jeez, those STAR WARS movies were a while ago now, huh?”

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

“So, OK, you’re relatively young. You still have a career ahead of you.”

 

“Well …”

 

“But me, I’ve been doing this for 50 years! I don’t have to care about what the actual movie is. If I decide – or, more usually, the old lady decides – that it’s time for a new conservatory, then so long as they pay me enough to cover the costs, you better believe that I’m getting that conservatory.”

 

“OK, but it’s different for me.”

 

“Of course it is, Hayden. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

 

“So, what I really wanted to know was–”

 

“You wanted to know if I think that you should do this film.”

 

“Yes! If you don’t mind.”

 

“You’d like some advice from someone who’s been around the block once or twice.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Or three or four times.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Hmm. Well, what is it that’s giving you doubts, son?”

 

“OK. Well, look. You’ve read the script, right?”

 

“Why in the hell would I do that?”

“Right, OK, sorry. Um, but you do know that it’s kind of a grim, dystopian, vaguely futuristic type deal?”

 

“I had a vague inkling.”

“I start off with a beard, losing my mind, in a hellhole. Flashbacks to a war where I'm a soldier.”

“Mmm …”

“I have a lot of voiceover exposition at the start ... it's set in a world the sounds like Blade Runner but on a ten-dollar budget. I describe it as being ‘the end of the world’.”

“OK …”

“I get the shit kicked out of me by a skinhead gang in the rain about 10 pages in. Then, at 15 pages, I hold a gun to my head but can't pull the trigger.”

“Right …”

“I can't really work out what happened in the backstory in my narration: the economy collapses, millions dead, I think there was some kind of ecological disaster? Then you show up on TV, talking about ‘a storm coming’, but I can't work out of if you're speaking about an actual storm or if it's just a metaphor.”

“Oh, that’s right. Like you, I have a beard in this one. So, I'm going to play the character as a spiritual successor to Jacob in FROM DUSK TILL DAWN, where I also had a beard. Except my beard is going to be longer this time.”

“Right. Um, so I also meet some creepy kid, or he may just be a manifestation of my own insanity or my guilt or something like that. Then about 25 pages in I decide I need some money for ... something, so I get a job. It's not clear what this job entails, but I'm interviewed in an office by a man in a suit. Then after about 30 pages, an old army buddy of mine turns up at my apartment, and I at first pull out a gun on him not trusting that he's real, but then he does seem to be ... Harvey, I hate to admit it, but I’m completely lost with this script! There's just so little cohesion between scenes. Nothing makes any sense.”

"OK, let's pull things back a little. Do you get to do anything heroic?"

“Well, I turn the tables on the skinheads after about 40 pages, grabbing one of their guns and shooting them.”

"Anything else?"

“I kind of just skim-read it after that. I think I have an affair with my new boss's daughter, and towards the end I'm locked up in a cell, not sure why ... there's a kind of Mexican standoff at the climax, me with a shotgun facing down two other guys with handguns.”

"Like me at the end of RESERVOIR DOGS! ... Except, no shotguns."

“I guess …”

“Hmm.”

“So … what do you think?”

“Hayden, son?”

“Yes, Harvey?”

“I have four rules for my career. Or at least I did, you know, when I was your age.”

“OK …”

“Would you like me to tell you them?”

“Yes please.”

“The first one is, find a high-class director and stick to him like glue. Now, I did five films with Marty Scorsese and yes, he ended up making Bobby D his go-to guy instead. Which is fine, I’m over it now. But I knew Marty was good, and he knew how to use me. Now, you had the right idea with George Lucas …”

“I thought so at the time …”

“But we’re talking about a man who obviously does not like to direct motion pictures. So, find yourself a new guy who's a bit more prolific.”

“OK.”

“Next rule: Show your vulnerable side. You’ve seen BAD LIEUTENANT? The scene in the church? Or when I’m cradling Tim Roth at the end of DOGS? Or my scene alone with Jodie Foster in TAXI DRIVER? Or basically any time I’m on screen in THE PIANO?”

“Yes! All brilliant work, Harvey.”

“Aw, thanks. The point is, kid, you can be the tough guy, but if you wanna win ‘em round, you gotta make ‘em cry.”

“Got it.”

“The third rule is, you can’t just be vulnerable on the inside. You gotta show what you’re worth underneath, behind all the bullshit we protect ourselves with.”

“Wait, are you talking about–”

“Yes, Hayden. You gotta go nude. You gotta let ‘em see Little Hayden.”

“Um …”

“I have appeared naked in seven motion pictures. Can Bobby DeNiro say that? Can Pacino say that? Did Marlon or Jack or Paul Newman ever do that? I don’t think so!”

“I see.”

“One final rule, kid.”

 “Hit me, Harvey.”

 “Cops. You gotta play cops.”

 “OK.”

“COPKILLER, MORTAL THOUGHTS, THELMA & LOUISE, BAD LIEUTENANT (of course), RISING SUN, THE YOUNG AMERICANS, CLOCKERS, COP LAND, RED DRAGON, NATIONAL TREASURE and its sequel … and those are just the ones I can remember.”

“Wow.”

“You betcha. So: latch onto a hot director, be vulnerable, give your johnson some air, and hold a badge. Nothing to it.”

“Got it. Thanks for the advice, Harvey.”

“No problem kid. See you on set – and hey, would it be OK if I showed you a few catalogues between setups? Because, I gotta tell you, oak frames are OK, but I'm leaning towards mahogany, or maybe pine. Or even accoya, whatever the hell that is ..."

“Sure, Harvey. It'd be my pleasure.”

“Thanks, kid. See ya.”

“Bye.”

(Click)

 

One star out of five.

 

 

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  Who the fuck knows.

What would a movie called THE FIRST MAN be about?  In 2016, if his wife had won the election, that would have been Bill Clinton.

 

Previously:  THE LAST TREE

Next time:  THE LAST FACE

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com