Showing posts with label Michael Fassbender. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Fassbender. Show all posts

Monday, April 2, 2012

Fassbender Snuggles A Bear Cub For 2 Hours.

A BEAR NAMED WINNIE (2004)
A good reprieve from American Psycho, no? A Bear Named Winnie delves into the origins of the bear that inspired Winnie The Pooh, a bear named Winnie who was adopted by a World War I army veterinarian, an ultimately won over (most of) the infantry. In short, A Bear Named Winnie is what happens when you feel like doing your history on Michael Fassbender and realize that this one is an instant watch on Netflix. I'm assuming the target audience encompasses young children and their tired mothers looking for a little more eye-candy than The Hunchback Of Notre Dame has to offer, so with that in mind, I'm fully aware that I fall outside this movie's spectrum. However, I have to give it points for trying. Credit where credit is due, there have been worse movies for children dedicated to animals, which can be summed up in "animals do silly animal things for 90 minutes straight." At very least, this movie has a World War I backdrop. Which makes for good bromances and vague moral queries. It also makes for a hardass commanding officer antagonist, who is always over the top but necessary for movies like this.

The highlight, of course, is the bear, Winnie, and Michael Fassbender. The movie really could have been called Fassbender Snuggles A Bear Cub For 2 Hours and I would've been satisfied. Winnie herself is an adorable, lumbering thing and watching her wrap Fassbender in a bear hug sends me into spasms of irrational glee. It doesn't help that Stephen Fry makes a brief but always welcome cameo. Overall, the movie is a happy-go-lucky feel good animal film that never gets too campy nor too Old Yeller style dark, and while it might run a little longer than it has to, it's an entertaining watch for children, Fassbender fanatics, and anyone who stays up at night dreaming about burrowing their face into a mountain of warm bear fur.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

We're Not Bad People.

SHAME (2011)
Here's a challenge: how do you make sex with two beautiful actors look repulsive and ugly on screen? The repetition. The uncomfortable expressions on the actors faces. All the quiet little details that give the scene the edge of unease it needs to make the audience squirm in their seats...and not in a good way. Shame follows the life of Brandon Sullivan (Michael Fassbender)--the man all the girls want and all the guys want to be. He's a successful business man and attractive bachelor with no emotional commitments to weigh him down. He's also a sex addict of the ADD generation whose inner demons rear their ugly heads when his down-and-out sister (Carey Mulligan) moves in with him and upsets the delicate balance of his sanity.

One of the real accomplishments of Shame is that director Steve McQueen manages to take the very temptations that Hollywood so often uses to draw people to the box office--sex, beautiful women, attractive actors--and twists in it on its head. The magic of this subtle yet brilliant little trick is the fact that instead of buying into a "time is money" feel, McQueen lingers in every scene. We have long, fleshed out gazes into Brandon's life instead of brief snippets and highlights. At one point, Brandon goes on a date, and we get the first ten minutes of the date in a single shot, getting everything from what food they order to the way they awkwardly stumble from topic to topic with nervous first date smiles. By dragging the scene out without any snappy cuts and breaks, we've ceased to become movie-watchers and instead become voyeurs, hooked on watching these characters bear themselves bit by bit.

McQueen doesn't bother with trying to explain why Brandon is the way he is or what led him and his sister to lead such self-destructive lives with distracting flashbacks and forced exposition; instead, he holds us in every second of the painful present and doesn't let go. As Michael Fassbender said, "There is no place to hide in this whole script." Between the fearless acting, the solid script, and the unflinching eye of Steve McQueen, Shame is, if nothing else, the most courageous film of the year. The characters bare themselves (literally and figuratively) again and again, yet, like Brandon, when the film tempts us with "Want to play?", we find ourselves unable to look away.