Another Movie Guy?: "The Unknown Woman," etc.

Welcome to “Another Movie Guy?”! I review recent new releases, and then mention similar movies worth checking out. If all goes according to plan, you’ll have some new additions to your Netflix queue. Or someone with whom you can angrily disagree.

Giuseppe Tornatore’s The Unknown Woman tries to accomplish too much. It wants to be a revenge thriller, a family melodrama, a tearjerker, a horror movie, and a police procedural. The movie’s first act is bursting with tension and imagination. But as the plot unravels, the story becomes more and more ordinary. I’m not sure whether the twists were supposed to be obvious, but it’s depressing to solve the mystery before any of the characters do. The following review has spoilers. Don’t worry – I won’t divulge anything that an attentive viewer couldn’t easily guess.

Irena (Kseniya Rappoport) moves into a small Italian town. She claims to be from the Ukraine, and looks for work as a maid. Foreigners are treated with cool hostility. She’s searched by security staff at a grocery store, and her eyes grow wild. There are abrupt shots of her being sexually brutalized. The director makes it abundantly clear that Irena has an unsavory past. Soon Irena finds work in an apartment building with a Hitchcockian staircase. It becomes clear that she wants to get into the home of Valeria Adacher, who works as a jeweler. The current maid stays in the way, but Irena gets rid of her. Now she’s in the apartment, watching Valeria’s daughter, and trying to get access to the safe.

The rest of the movie  tells the story of Irena’s past, and what motivates her. The payoff does not satisfy. For example, Irena develops a rapport with Tea (Clara Dossena), Valeria’s young daughter. They both have the same curly brown hair – I’ll give you two seconds to guess their relationship. Yes, such a plot development is painfully obvious, but the director attempts to make it as earth-shattering as The Usual Suspects. At first I forgive these mis-steps, but one happens after the other, and I lose interest. At the hour mark I found myself checking my watch. I will say that for all its plot faults, the movie does have an abundance of style.  The camera sweeps with confidence. The score, by the great Ennio Morricone, pulses and does its best to keep the audience enthralled. But style does not equal substance.

The movie does not answer every question it raises. There are plot holes you could drive an 18-wheeler through, but the director tries to justify the holes with an inert emotional conclusion. Watching the movie, I found myself thinking about Tell No One, the superb French thriller whose airtight plot captivated me. The Unknown Woman pales in comparison. By the end, there was a guy snoring in the theater. I couldn’t really blame him – it’s easy to lose an interest in a movie that isn’t clever as it thinks it is.

Here are some better foreign thrillers worth knowing about:

The Aura.* The late Fabian Bielinsky tries his hand at another heist movie. Unlike his earlier effort Nine Queens which focuses on a highly intricate plot, The Aura is more about character. Its hero, played by Ricardo Darin, is an epileptic taxidermist with a gift for memory and observation. While on a hunting trip, he stumbles onto a casino heist, and through some luck and improvisation, becomes a co-conspirator. The movie has a dark palette and seems mournful throughout. Characters make choices based on their nature and not the convenience of the plot, making The Aura an uncommonly thoughtful heist movie. Those expecting twists like the ones found in Nine Queens might be disappointed. While the movie does have its share of double-crosses, they are not as ingenious as Nine Queens – a movie which borrows heavily from Mamet. Still, you’ll enjoy yourself if you’re patient and accept this is a slow-burn thriller.

* Full disclosure: I wrote this review on Netflix about a year ago. I don’t like rehashing my old reviews for this column, but since I had lots of homework weekend, I made an exception.

The Page Turner. The premise for this revenge thriller seems uniquely French. A young pianist is a bundle of nerves, and wants acceptance into a prestigious music school. She auditions before a panel of music instructors. One of the panelists, Ariane, does not offer her complete attention, and the student unravels. Years later, the student is now a gorgeous young woman named Melanie, and is intent on ruining Ariane’s life. At first Melanie’s revenge seems predictable. She becomes Ariane’s page-turner, which puts her in a unique position to ruin Ariane’s reputation as a pianist. Director Denis Dercourt is not content with such a simple story. He toys with our expectations so when the revenge finally comes, we’re surprised at Melanie’s capacity for sinister planning. The movie feels like a good short story – it’s not too long, focuses on few characters, and with a doozy of an ending. In addition to its fascinating plot, the movie is worth watching for its acting – Deborah Francois, the absolutely gorgeous woman who plays Melanie, does so much with a simple, sly smile.

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not. Audrey Tautou stars in this nightmarish thriller about a woman obsessed with a young doctor. Actually, “thriller” is not quite the right word. In a way, the audience already knows what will happen, so rather than generating suspense, the movie builds dread. It is told from two perspectives. Shot in bright colors, we watch Angelique (Tautou) leave sweet love notes for the doctor (Samuel Le Bahin). The first minutes almost play like a romantic comedy. But soon we see the doctor’s perspective – he does not even remember Angelique. What’s worse, his wife suspects infidelity. The stakes rise Angelique’s actions become increasingly crazed – soon the doctor’s life gets torn apart. Tautou is as charming as she was in Amelie. This time, however, the director ably turns the charm on its head, making her seem deeply deranged. The movie utilizes such a high concept, and could have easily become just another genre exercise. But with such nuanced performances, the story is ultimately a tragic one. The closing title cards inform us that Angelique’s psychological affliction is not uncommon. I remember thinking, “Great, with my luck, I bet the next girl that comes along will be as crazy but not as adorable.”

That’s it for this weeks “Another Movie Guy?”! Tune in next week when I run for Congress.

Another Movie Guy?: "W."

Welcome to “Another Movie Guy?”! Normally I review recent new releases, and then mention similar movies worth checking out. This time, out of laziness more than anything else, I’m offering a straight-up review. I think this one warrants a deviation from the norm. After all, movies like this don’t come around often.

Oliver Stone’s W. is no hatchet job. Too often the director has the subtlety of a sledge hammer, but with this fascinating movie, he’s thoughtful and curious. I think his approach is right. He takes it as a given that President Bush led our country astray, devastating our country’s constitution and moral authority. With his sharp screenwriter, Stone tries to answer a simple question: what shaped our President?

W. takes an episodic approach. Stone does not chronicle Bush’s life, and instead provides the development of his personality. The scenes are split between his wild early days and the first years of his administration. As a young man, Dubya (Josh Brolin) is a familiar archetype – the spoiled inebriate who resents his family’s burden. His father (James Cromwell) makes no secret that he prefers Jeb. Eventually Dubya meets Laura (Elizabeth Banks), a demure woman who functions more as a sounding board than a wife. After he quits drinking and finds God, his political career begins to take off.

The conclusion Stone draws is terrifying. Our president does not consider the consequences of his decisions. Ever. Sometimes his flaw works in his favor – when he quits drinking is an example. But often his certainty leads to disaster. Dick Cheney (Richard Dreyfuss), depicted as supremely evil, uses Bush’s flaw as a means to achieve his ends. We watch Dubya and his advisers discuss whether to invade Iraq, and Cheney’s wants nothing less than control of the planet. I’m not exaggerating. Others like Rice (Thandie Newton) and Powell (Jeffrey Wright), are in awe of Dubya’s vapidity. Powell tries to be the voice of reason, but soon falls lock-step with the administration’s policy.

Stone’s style is understated compared to his earlier efforts, giving the audience an opportunity to regard the performances. Brolin does not impersonate but embodies. He’s the key to the movie’s success. Yes, Dubya is a dim man who will never fully understand the havoc he wrought, but Brolin almost makes him sympathetic. Of the supporting performances, Dreyfus is memorable/loathsome as Cheney. The biggest surprise, however, comes from Thandie Newton. Like Rice, Newton’s voice made my skin crawl. Cromwell wisely avoids doing an impression of former President Bush, and instead makes him a distant, intelligent man whose constant disapproval is Dubya’s biggest influence.

W’s final twenty minutes lose steam, but that does not taint the overall impression. This is a good movie that plays fair. George W. Bush reflects the values of those who have his year – Rove’s resolute need for victory, Cheney’s malevolent foreign policy. In the hands of relatively more decent people, perhaps Dubya’s presidency would not have been such been, as my friend Ryan put it, the clusterfuck to end all clusterfucks. If nothing else, W. provides compelling reasons why our next president needs intellectual vigor.

Another Movie Guy?: "Rachel Getting Married," etc.

Welcome to “Another Movie Guy?”! I review recent new releases, and then mention similar movies worth checking out. If all goes according to plan, you’ll have some new additions to your Netflix queue. Or someone with whom you can angrily disagree.

Movies like Rachel Getting Married are almost impossible to do well. Too many family dramas have a need for closure, or feature relatives so bizarre they can only be found in movies. Director Jonathon Demme and his screenwriter sidestep these land mines. Here’s a family that’s tender, heartbreaking, joyous, and above all authentic. Everyone is out of the ordinary, but no one is implausible.

Like many family celebrations, the story is deceptively simple. In the house where she grew up, Rachel (Rosemarie DeWitt) is marrying Sidney (Tunde Adebimpe, TV on the Radio’s singer). The family is worried about Rachel’s sister Kym (Anne Hathaway), who is taking a break from rehab for the special event. Kym can be crass, and though she is well on her way to recovery, the family does not know how to treat her. Everyone remembers a tragic event that ruptured the family dynamics. Both Rachel’s parents remarried, but the emotional wounds haven’t entirely healed. Once she arrives, Kym immediately makes herself the center of attention, which (justifiably) infuriates Rachel. Her father (Bill Irwin) and his second wife (Anna Deavre Smith) try and cool the situation, but tension arises amid the celebration. Awkward encounters become outright hostile.

Jonathan Demme, one the most humane directors, has the right approach for this kind of material. His hand-held camera plunges right into the middle of things, making you feel like you’re at the party. There is no soundtrack, but there is always music – either from guests practicing or performing. Sidney and Rachel are clearly in love. When everyone celebrates with them, I couldn’t help but get wrapped in everyone’s exuberance. But during scenes of ugly truths, the camera is soberingly still, allowing the audience to listen to hurtful words. The screenplay is Jenny Lumet‘s first, but it doesn’t show. Perhaps she got the creative chops from her father. Every word is closely observed, and within minutes you understand who these people are. There are abrupt shifts in tone, but they are not dizzying. During one scene, Sidney and Paul determine who is better at loading dishes, and in an instant, spontaneous glee gives way to mournful regret.

Such a movie wouldn’t work without stellar acting. They’re all great  – even Abdeimpe, who could quit his day job. Anne Hathaway, often thought of as another pretty face, pulls it off. At first, she’s just a drama queen who throws discomfort in the face of her happy family. But as you listen to her at a 12 step meeting, you see the complex emotion behind the facade. She’s completely convincing, and there are several times where I wanted to hug her. Her huge eyes, which can be strangely awkward, are so expressive here. Kym’s talk with her mother (Debra Winger) feels like a punch in the gut. Winger (whatever happened to her?), closed off and angry, is brutal when speaking honestly. As Rachel, Rosemarie DeWitt has a trickier job. She wants to be happy, but sibling rivalry gets in the way. Kym gets positive attention for her negative behavior, and Rachel resents it. DeWitt goes through a wide range of emotion convincingly, but what lingers in my memory is her face as she looks at Sidney. There is so much tenderness and adoration that, yes, I got a little misty.

Rachel Getting Married is a bit like attending a wedding. Everything feels chaotic. There are moments of awkwardness and perhaps even sadness. Your family gets your goad not because you don’t know what they’re going to do, but because you know exactly what they’re going to do. But at the end of the day, you forget the bad and remember the unbridled joy. Maybe you don’t want it to end.

Here are realistic family dramas worth knowing about:

After the Wedding. Danish director Susanne Bier is a one-trick pony. She makes astutely observed melodramas about regular people who console each another in unexpected ways. Of all the Bier movies I’ve seen, After the Wedding is her best. It tells the story of Jacob (Mads Mikkelsen), a Dane who manages a floundering Indian orphanage. Strapped for cash, he goes to meet Jorgen, a wealthy businessman who offers to bankroll the orphanage. Jorgen invites Jacob to his daughter’s wedding, where Jacob is surprised to discover his former lover is Jorgen’s wife. Melodrama ensues. I first noticed Mads Mikkelsen as Casino Royale’s villain – here he does a complete 180 playing an introspective, decent man. The plot developments could easily fit into a soap opera, but with careful direction, the story feels more authentic. Faces are often the subject of Bier’s camera, forcing the actors to silently demonstrate what they’re thinking. With an engaging story and a heartfelt ending, I’d recommend After the Wedding if you’re in a particularly meditative mood. Just don’t bother with Bier’s other movies. It’s all the same song, different verse.

A Woman Under the Influence. Gena Rowlands earned an Academy Award nomination as Mabel, a wife and mother driven to madness. Mabel’s husband Nick (Peter Falk) is also batshit crazy, but with his job and patriarchal status, others excuse his reckless behavior. You get the impression that if Mabel had similar outlets, she could handle the expectations everyone has of her. Watching these two actors interact is a little frightening. They scream, abruptly change moods, endanger their kids, and alienate their relatives. With understated confidence, the movie was directed by John Cassavetes, Rowlands’ husband. It’s truly a family affair: Nick and Mabel’s mothers are portrayed by Cassevetes and Rowlands real-life mothers, respectively. Given such an approach, the material is all the more arresting because of how autobiographical it seems. Rowlands’ performance is the movie’s centerpiece – much like Mabel’s predicament, the actress has no place to hide. Little happens in the way of plot. And the movie is two and half hours long. It has a resolution, yes, but all the plot developments are in the minds of the two leads. Yet everything is handled with such skill that you will (probably) be ensnared by the story.

Margot at the Wedding. Directed by Noah “Kicking and Screaming” Baumbach, this is easily among the most uncomfortable family movies I’ve seen. Margot (Nicole Kidman) travels to her family home to meet her sister Pauline’s (Jennifer Jason Leigh) new fiancé, Malcolm (Jack Black). Both Pauline and Margot have children. Soon the bickering begins – Malcolm disgusts Margot, and Pauline always tries to one-up her sister. These characters are bright, self-centered, and cruel. A particularly telling moment is when Margot and Pauline laugh about their other sister who was, “Raped by the horse trainer.” As I was watching, I found myself laughing not because the movie was particularly funny, but as a way of releasing the tension. Baumbach (who, incidentally, is married to Leigh) seems intent on nakedly showing how families terrorize one another. First with The Squid and the Whale and now this, he’s developing a unique voice – albeit one that’s hard to stomach. I made the inspired choice of seeing this right before my family’s Thanksgiving dinner – it made my crazy relatives seem functional by comparison.

That’s it for this week’s “Another Movie Guy?”! Tune in next week when I terrorize Italians.

Live DC: The Secret Machines / TK Webb @ 930 Club

photos: Irfan Khalil

I first heard The Secret Machines the same way I imagine most people have: I saw the video for “Nowhere Again” on MTV, loved the hook, and bought the album. Upon listening to “Now Here is Nowhere,” it seemed that people had one of two reactions: “Hey, they sound like a spacey Led Zeppelin. Cool!” or “These other songs are too fucking long.” Needless to say, I belong to the former group. Their mainstream popularity seemed to wane over the years, but with a solid fanbase, they have become the band for those who want a healthy mix of prog and pop. Their show at the 9:30 club didn’t disappoint, but as with most proggy bands I see, rock eventually gave way to indulgence.

The opening band, TK Webb and the Visions, started on a solemn note. After a brief mumble into the microphone, front man Webb began with slow, measured hard-rock designed to demonstrate guitar histrionics. The band mates, all clearly talented, created a pleasant dirge, but seemed to be going through the motions. It certainly didn’t help that maybe three dozen people were in the audience. Only one guy with a pony tail seemed enthusiastic – everyone else was polite. But as the set continued, it became clear that their set was an extended crescendo. A turning point was when Webb broke out a harmonica. The songs began to vary, and the band gained some energy. When Webb addressed the audience before their last song, he seemed relatively perky, making jokes and clearly pleased with the audience’s growing numbers. They ended on a high note, but as with many throwbacks to 70s hard rock, it felt that I’ve heard all this before.

If nothing else, The Secret Machines gave us something to experience. Their light show was simple yet unusual. A metal frame caged the band into a small space. Attached to the frame, thin white ribbons rendered curvy three-dimensional planes. The only light sources were from the floor, making the band secondary to their shadows. Oh, and they sounded great, too. Drummer Josh Garza is the band’s center – his thunderous playing had the steadiness of firing pistons. It was great to watch their new guitarist Phil Karnats play a chord with his entire body. And keyboardist/bassist Brandon Curtis had the role of the enigmatic front man down pat, showing little enthusiasm yet exuding charisma. They played through songs steadily.

Most of their set focused on cuts from their new album, which was released earlier this month. My eyes kept wandering to Garza, who played like a fierce, unwavering automaton. Unfortunately, at the half-way mark the group delved into the kind of prog repetitiveness that gets mistaken for musical prowess. In spite of their indulgences, however, the set was never boring.

Leaving the 9:30 club before the encore, it occurred to me that I’d remember the light show long after I remembered the music. The Secret Machines worked best when I thought of them as an accompaniment to visual spectacle. The hair on the back of my neck stood up more than once. Still, I think the best approach to experiencing the band came from a group of shrieking girls on the balcony. They rocked the fuck out during “Nowhere Again,” and left before the show got too boring. For a band that provided only one kind of mood, that felt about right.

Another Movie Guy?: "Body of Lies," etc.

Welcome to “Another Movie Guy?”! I review recent new releases, and then mention similar movies worth checking out. If all goes according to plan, you’ll have some new additions to your Netflix queue. Or someone with whom you can angrily disagree.

Ridley Scott’s Body of Lies feels authentic. The characters are consummate professionals whose personalities hinder their intentions. Taking place in about eight  countries*, the story is complex but not impenetrable. Unlike other recent thrillers about the War on Terror, this one lacks an overt political message. Yet for its uncommon verisimilitude (I love that word), the movie leaves me with lukewarm feelings.

Roger Ferris (Leonardo DiCaprio) is the CIA’s man-on-the-ground in the Middle East. From the movie’s first frames, you get the impression he’s the best at his job. He knows how to handle assets, wishes to preserve life, but does not shy away from violence. The objective? To take down Al-Saleem, an Al-Qaeda operative close in stature to Osama Bin Laden. Ferris isn’t alone in his efforts – Ed Hoffman (Russell Crowe), a mid-level CIA bureaucrat, watches everything from his comfortable home. The CIA mission hits a wall, so they enlist the help of Hani, Jordan‘s head of intelligence. Hani and Hoffman have very different methods, and their conflicting ideas routinely leave Ferris battered. By the movie’s end, Ferris undergoes a harrowing ordeal.

The movie’s strongest aspect is its understanding of espionage. Unlike James Bond, Ferris isn’t particularly showy. He’s not one to sip on shaken vodka martinis – in one scene, both he and Hoffman share about a dozen Budweisers. The strategy these two develop is kind of brilliant – they invent a more sinister terrorist, which sparks Al-Saleem’s jealousy, causing him to let down his defenses. As with many spy movies, personal interests get in the way of the ultimate objective. For someone so competent, it’s hard to believe that Ferris lets himself get caught up with Aisha, an Iranian nurse. Hoffman first appears like a cut of the Cheney mold: victory at all costs, collateral damage be damned. The screenplay, written by William “The Departed” Monahan, slowly flushes out the Crowe character. He ends up not as evil as I initially thought.

DiCaprio is becoming the go-to guy when a director needs an action star with frayed nerves and wispy facial hair. First The Departed, then Blood Diamond, and now this. Sure, he’s great at this kind of thing, but if he wasn’t making a movie like Reservation Road, I’d worry that he’s becoming type cast. Crowe is gains weight for his role, but his performance is not particularly noteworthy. The stand-out performance belongs to Mark Strong, who plays Hani. I first noticed Strong in Ms. Pettigrew Lives for a Day, where he plays a different role entirely. Here he’s suave, a little slimy, but ultimately a sophisticated spy. I love how Hani mixes Western indulgences with reverence for his homeland. It’s surprising to learn that the actor isn’t of Middle-Eastern descent.

A few weeks ago I reviewed a spy movie about stupid people in a situation they don’t  understand. Body of Lies is like the other side of the same coin – a spy movie about smart people in a situation they don’t understand. Scott’s movie demands that the viewer pay attention, but for all of its strengths, his movies does not add to a greater whole. For one thing, the love story is a little too much to swallow. And I’ve definitely seen too much of this sort of thing before.  I didn’t leave Body of Lies disappointed, but I also didn’t leave satisfied.

* Attentive viewers will notice that Eastern Market doubles for Amsterdam during a terrorist bombing.

Here are other smart recent spy movies worth knowing about:

Black Book. I’m a sucker for moral ambiguity, and this WW2 flick, directed by Paul “Showgirls” Verhoeven, has ambiguity up the wazzoo. It’s about a Jewish woman who falls in love with the Nazi officer that she tries to deceive. With thrilling set pieces and a compelling story, viewers will easily be caught up in the narrative. At the same time, however, this movie does a good job of illustrating the futility of war, and how it becomes a larger-than-life, chaotic force. The lead actress, capable and duplicitous, is as good a heroine as Sigourney Weaver from the Alien movies. Fans of The Lives of Others will recognize the German actor who plays the Nazi officer. This movie will give you sights you (probably) don’t see often. How often, for example, do you get a scene of a woman dyeing her pubic hair? Released last year, this outstanding thriller was largely unseen by theater-goers. I think it was playing at the Chinatown Regal for only one week. Now Black Book is available for rental from Netflix, so I heartily recommend you give this one a shot.

Fay Grim. Hal Hartley wrote and directed this sequel to his 1997 dramedy Henry Fool. Starring Parker Posey, the movie is full of the oblique camerawork/dialog that made Hartley’s earlier effort such a cult success. The movie takes place nine years later, and follows Fay as she tries to locate her long lost husband Henry (Thomas Jay Ryan) with help from the CIA (represented here by Jeff Goldblum). Apparently Henry’s absurd Confession contains secrets that many governments are now scrambling over. The result is a muted spy thriller – yes, there is intrigue and double cross, but Hartley’s off-kilter style  (see above) prevents the viewer from being fully engaged.  Sure, there is plenty of clever dialog. Sure, Posey and Goldblum have a detached delivery that’s perfect for this sort of material. But I would recommend this only to those who are familiar with Hartley’s esoteric style. It’s probably a good idea to check out Henry Fool first – it’s a better movie, anyway.

Army of Shadows. Jean-Pierre Melville is both the coolest and the most existential of French directors. He more or less invented the heist movie, and completely re-invented the hit man movie. Army of Shadows is his take on the French Resistance during WW2. A member of the resistance himself, Melville ignores heroics, his characters understand why they anonymously fight for a cause bigger than themselves. The movie is bleak – no Resistance fighter expects to survive. In one particularly memorable moment, a French prisoner is led into a vast warehouse. He is told to run from the Nazi machine guns, and if he survives, his reward is to live another day. Melville shoots harsh scenes like this one without frills – by focusing on the fierce determination of the players involved, he generates ample suspense. Lost for many years, a print of Army of Shadows was found two years ago, and fully restored. The result is stunning – the colors are vivid, and the movies looks as good as many movie I’ve seen from the 60s. There have been many movies made about WW2, but few featured such singularly badass characters.

That’s it for this week’s “Another Movie Guy?”! Tune in next week when I choke on a pretzel or crash a wedding.

Another Movie Guy?: "Appaloosa" etc.

Welcome to “Another Movie Guy?”! I review recent new releases, and then mention similar movies worth checking out. If all goes according to plan, you’ll have some new additions to your Netflix queue. Or someone with whom you can angrily disagree.

The best westerns use a vast landscape to show how hard men create some form of order. Deals are made, rules are understood, guns are necessary. The worth of man, understood but never spoken, is crucial. Appaloosa, the new western directed by Ed Harris, also knows this but adds something more: a woman with rules of her own.

Virgil Cole (Harris) and his partner Everett Hitch (Viggo Mortensen) are hired guns who operate under the semblance of law. They go from town to town, establish themselves as marshals, and kill the bad guys. Their work takes them to the town of Appaloosa, where the murderous Randall Bragg (Jeremy Irons) resides. Bragg and Cole are both strong-willed, and have no plans to leave. Soon Allison French (Renee Zellwegger) arrives. Cole, of course, is immediately smitten. He buys a house for his new flame, and makes Appaloosa his home. Everett is skeptical.

Much to my surprise, the movie works best as a romantic comedy. There is gentle humor throughout. Most of the movie’s running time is devoted to an unusual triangle between Allison, Virgil, and Everett. These two men know each other well, and have a relationship based on trust and respect. I wouldn’t say they are friends. Allison, whose intentions are dubious, quickly establishes herself as the alpha female. Her companion must be the best man around – she sets her sights on Cole first, but looks elsewhere. Even Bragg becomes a suitable choice for her. If I make Appaloosa sound like a Nora Ephron movie, don’t fret. The gun fights are deadly, fast, and brutal. Yet even during the shoot-outs, Harris directs with an understated style. He wants to give his characters room to develop. Yes, they must fight, but motivations are more interesting.

With long stretches of dialog punctuated by violence, there is plenty of time to observe the actors. Cole veers from taciturn to giddy, but Harris makes him convincing. Viggo Mortensen is quickly becoming one of my favorite actors. He often plays stoic characters who reveal their thoughts with their eyes. Mortensen does the same here. Hitch is smarter than Cole, and wisely chooses to not say much. Ms. French is quite the strumpet, but with Zellwegger’s pluck and warm smile, the character remains likable. Jeremy Irons is a quite the character actor, and makes Randall Bragg a magnificent bastard. He’s cruel, snobby, duplicitous, and funny. Seriously folks, Irons should be the go-to movie villain. I can’t think of anyone who says their lines with such an icy delivery.

Appaloosa is pleasant but slow-moving. I enjoyed it, but not as much as other recent westerns. The crowd was probably the most grizzled I’ve encountered at E Street. They struck me as intense western fans – precisely the sort of people who should see this movie. I hope those mutton-chopped men enjoyed themselves.

Here are other movies where Jeremy Irons plays characters with memorable names:

Reversal of Fortune. Irons won an Academy Award for his portrayal of Claus von Bulow, a thoroughly strange man who stood trial for the attempted murder of his wife. Based on real events, the circumstances of Sunny von Bulow’s coma are convoluted: she was an alcoholic and a drug addict who has been in a “persistent vegetative state” since 1980. The prosecution argued that Claus gave his wife an overdose of insulin, causing the coma. After a conviction, von Bulow began the appeal process with the help of Alan Dershowitz, a Harvard law professor. The movie is based on Dershowitz’s book of the same name. Irons plays von Bulow as an affected, pretentious aristocrat – someone prone to bizarre mannerisms and speech. He constantly jokes about his culpability, a fact which doesn’t particularly make him sympathetic. Yet he has a solid defense, and is eventually acquitted on all charges. Of course, the movie leaves it ambiguous whether von Bulow is guilty. Reversal of Fortunate is worth watching for its larger-than-life characters, and its memorable performances. Sure, von Bulow probably poisoned his wife, but he ultimately emerges as a strangely likable man.

Lolita. Irons stars as Humbert Humbert, the hero of this modern adaptation of Nabokov’s novel. Anyone who has seen the older version or read the book knows the territory: European professor falls in love with prepubescent girl, marries her mother, etc etc. Directed by Adrian “Indecent Proposal” Lyne, the 1997 version does not differentiate too greatly from the 1962 Stanley Kubrick version. I prefer Irons’ performance over James Mason’s – Irons takes more chances, making his Humbert more insidious and creepy. The supporting performances in the Kubrick version far exceed those in the Lyne version: Shelley Winters outshines Melanie Griffith as Dolores Haze, and Peter Sellers eclipses Frank Langella as Claire Quilty. Both adaptations often lack the subtlety (and dark humor) of Nabokov’s novel. Still, the 1997 update is worth watching for Irons and its racier content. Where else would you get the opportunity to watch a crazed Frank Langella nakedly sprint down a hallway?

Dead Ringers. Irons plays twin gynecologists in this David Cronenberg movie. Elliott and Beverly are brilliant doctors who delight in manipulating those around them. One will routinely pretend to be the other, and hardly anyone can spot the difference. The movie argues that twins have an otherworldly, indefinable bond that takes precedence over all other relationships. Beverly soon throws this bond in a tailspin as he becomes infatuated with an drug-addicted actress. Elliott desperately tries to save this brother, but soon all three descend into madness. Irons delivers a stellar performance – through subtle body language and verbal tics, the viewer is always certain which brother is which. Long before CGI, Cronenberg puts both brothers on screen by using “moving splits.” Most of the time, the illusion looks authentic. Like many other Cronenberg movies, Dead Ringers focuses on how uncomfortable we are with our bodies – Beverly invents some bizarre gynecological instruments that’ll freak everyone the fuck out. The movie is sort of like watching a surgery: coldly clinical, but nonetheless fascinating. Most viewers probably won’t feel much of an emotional impact, but the performances and imagery will haunt your thoughts.

That’s it for this week’s “Another Movie Guy?”! Tune in next week when I (probably) am rich, unhappy, and English.