28 December, 2005 | Leave a Comment
While in Paris, I saw two films, Match Point and King Kong. Movies in Paris are cheaper than in London! And the theatre I went to sold snacks (including popcorn) in self-serve vending machines. How adorable. We saw a preview for Brokeback Mountain. At first it seems like just a regular cowboy movie, but as soon as it became clear that it’s a gay cowboy movie, the audience burst into laughter. Not a good sign!
Woody Allen’s Match Point, set in London, is very dark. I’m not a huge fan of Allen and I went to the film having no clue what it was about. I was expecting a comedy. Nope! It was quite grim. But London looks gorgeous in the film, from Covent Garden to the Tate Modern. And the flat with the view of Parliament and Big Ben was fab. Visually, the movie was like perusing an issue of Condé Nast Traveller.
In the film, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers (who might be gorgeous but looks dead inside) is an average Irish bloke in London, an ex-tennis pro who through a bit of luck and social-climbing becomes part of a very privileged English family. Scarlett Johansson plays an American hussy/aspiring actress (What? A one-dimensional slut in a Woody Allen movie? You’re kidding!). I don’t want to give anything away, though I guessed what was going to happen and I felt gutted when it actually did.
Today I read two reviews of Match Point, both of which offered a different take on the film. From Salon:
And maybe that’s why “Match Point,” a movie made by a poor little rich boy who’s perpetually on the outside looking in, gazing forlornly at this privileged world to which he’s always wanted to belong, is so phony. “Match Point” is a fatally neat exercise in detached craftsmanship, and maybe that’s the best we can expect from Allen at this point.
From The New York Times:
But it is the film’s brisk, chilly precision that makes it so bracingly pleasurable. The gloom of random, meaningless existence has rarely been so much fun, and Mr. Allen’s bite has never been so sharp, or so deep. A movie this good is no laughing matter.
Both reviewers have a point – it’s that kind of movie. I tend to agree more with Salon. Overall, the movie left me feeling conflicted. Did I like it? I’m not sure. I might go see it again.
The next movie I saw was King Kong. I like my fair share of cheesy Hollywood flicks, believe me, but special-effects-laden “event” movies are not my thing. So perhaps it’s unfair of me to review this film, but I’m going to do it anyway. I never intended to see Kong, but one night I craved a movie. I’d already seen Match Point and my only choices were Harry Potter, Narnia or the big KK. Slim pickings.
Peter Jackson (who should really go back to making films like Heavenly Creatures, in my opinion) must be given credit for at least attempting to impose a meaningful human-driven story on this ape epic. Nice try. The cast, all men except for one, are an interesting choice of character actors, led by Jack Black and the quirky-cute Adrien Brody. A formulaic “hunk” like Nicholas Cage or Orlando Bloom (excuse me while I wretch) would have made the film unbearable. Sadly, the lone female in the film is blond starlet Naomi Watts. Snooze. Peter’s brave casting choices don’t extend to the ladies, apparently. Too bad.
In the film, our scrappy gang of characters leave Depression-era NYC for the undiscovered Skull Island to make their own movie. The looooong middle section of the film is set on the island, which is loaded with dinosaurs, giant insects and King Kong himself. Kong is the only giant ape in town, so how on earth did he get there? Where are his ancestors? Who gave birth to this ugly beast? We never find that out.
In an early cringe-worthy scene, the dark-skinned island natives offer up the blond goddess Watts to Kong as a sacrifice. The majority of the film sees Watts – in a nightgown, of course – alternately running from and bonding with Kong. What if she had been wearing overalls and a long-sleeved work shirt? Hmmmm. Kong totes Watts around Skull Island in his giant hand like a Malibu Barbie. It goes on. And on. And on. We get the point, Jackson. Kong loves Watts but will rip to shreds any other human being who crosses his path. How cuddly and cute. And what a loyal pet!
By this time I’m looking at my watch, wondering when Kong will get to NYC and pole dance around the Empire State Building, which is all anyone wants to see anyway. Kong does eventually land in the Big Apple, though how they transport this giant genetic freak halfway around the world is never explained. He runs amok in New York, which was actually quite funny to me. He even ice skates with his bitch (er, starlet gal pal) in Central Park. Awwwww.
You see, I never should have reviewed this film!
Anglofille said @ 6:04 pm | film |
