Dec2Jan
Showing posts with label channing tatum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label channing tatum. Show all posts

Thursday, November 13, 2014

FILM REVIEW: FOXCATCHER

A scene from Foxcatcher.
Chemical ro(am)Mance
 
By John Esther
 
In 1996 recluse millionaire madman John du Pont assassinated a man who was arguably the greatest American wrestler ever. It was not supposed to happen. After all, du Pont invited the wrestling extraordinaire brothers Dave and Mark Schultz to come to du Point’s Foxcatcher estate to create a great American wrestling team. Great things were supposed to be accomplished, and sometimes they were. But wrestling on the mat and wrestling with one’s own and another’s psyche are two different phenomena – yet not necessarily distinct.
 
Inspired by the events leading up to the senseless murder, director Bennett Miller (Capote; Moneyball) and company bring forth a plethora of information, detail and skill in order to recreate the “truth” about those involved in Foxcatcher.
 
A seemingly nobody in working-class Wisconsin, Olympic Gold winner Mark Schultz (Channing Tatum) is training for the upcoming world wrestling championships. An Olympic champion reduced to living hand to mouth in near-poverty squalor, Mark is a loner barely recognized by his fellow citizens. His existence would be essentially ephemeral if it were not for his older brother, Dave Schultz (Mark Ruffalo). While hardly living the grand life, Dave does have a wife (Sienna Miller) and two kids, a steady job, and is on a regular relationship with USA Wrestling (USAW).
 
In a highly memorable scene, Foxcather precisely and aggressively establishes the relationship between the two brothers during their first encounter in the film.
 
Then, without warning, Mark’s seemingly bleak existence is disrupted by a call from a man calling on behalf of a man from one of the richest and most powerful American families since America’s Civil War.
 
Like a dream he never had coming true, Mark is lifted out of his dismal apartment and onto the 800-acre du Pont estate located in the Philadelphia suburbs. His benefactor, John du Pont (Steve Carell) a man of many interests, influences and eccentricities, wants to build a great American wrestling team. (We are talking authentic, athletic, amateur wrestling here, not the homoerotic, choreographed, steroid-fueled show known as professional wrestling.)
 
With relish and determination, the two start to build a formidable force. Training, meals and salaries are provided to Mark and the rest of wrestling team. Meanwhile, Dave remains back in Wisconsin, happy to do what he is doing.
 
As the training continues, Mark and du Pont begin to form a sort of son-father relationship. As someone who lived without his father and under his brother’s wings growing up, Mark has found a father surrogate in du Pont. Du Pont never had much of a father either.
 
Then drugs and alcohol enter the mix. The paternalistic dynamic becomes one of friendship, perhaps the only real one du Pont ever had. Well, his mother, Jean du Pont (Vanessa Redgrave), did buy her son a friend many years ago.
 
However, that friendship becomes restrained, too. Mark lashes out. John, with vastly superior intellectual skills, responds by systematically dismantling Mark by seducing Dave and his family out to the estate.
 
Now the three are wrestling on the mat, plus with fears, egos and loyalty. Mark is overwhelmed; Dave wants to keep his brother from hurting himself or others; and “Eagle” John is a man who is used to getting what he wants. The results will not be pretty.
 
Winner of Best Director at Cannes Film Festival 2014, Miller and company recreate those tragic events without mawkishness or fear. Simply put, this is well-done filmmaking with some extraordinary performances. Tatum is allowed to tap his inner emotions while Carell is breaking his comedic mold by playing a tragically pathetic character far from his comically pathetic Michael Scott on The Office. Typical Carell fans should not expect to laugh at Carell in the usual manner. Du Pont may be a virgin, but it is not for laughs. For his part, Ruffalo is excellent in an understated performance; it is the kind of nuanced acting typically overlooked during awards groups by more obvious performances.
 
As far as Redgrave’s contribution goes, sure, she does her job; but there is not much for her to do. She is simply here to add a little gravitas, which is not necessary. Running at a quick 132-minutes, Foxcatcher is a story about two brothers, one with personal demons, attached to a man who was obviously confused, spoiled, and likely sexually frustrated (some say mentally ill), who met two interests/subjects who did not serve his needs and thus had to be dispensed with extreme prejudice. (To put it Hollywoody: The Fighter meets Snowpiercer.)
 
However, there is one positive post-trope here: a one-percenter did not get away with murder. Du Pont died in prison in 2010.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, June 29, 2012

FILM REVIEW: MAGIC MIKE

A scene from Magic Mike.
The gazed male

By Don Simpson

The titular Magic Mike (Channing Tatum) is the lead attraction of the Cock-Rocking Kings of Tampa. In an effort to raise enough capital to open his own custom furniture business (he is a self-proclaimed entrepreneur), Mike also does custom detailing and works various construction jobs. It is on a construction site that Mike meets a 19-year-old college dropout, Adam (Alex Pettyfer), who is desperately trying to make enough cash to get out of his oh-so-serious sister Brooke's (Cody Horn) drab apartment.

By pure happenstance they meet again; this time Mike brings Adam to Club Xquisite, an all-male revue run with fantastic bravado by Dallas (Matthew McConaughey). At first, Dallas agrees to hire Adam to do odd jobs around the club; but it is not long until Adam fatefully appears on stage as "The Kid." It becomes increasingly evident that Adam represents Mike's past. (In a strange sort of way, Magic Mike takes on an A Christmas Carol-esque quality, except that this film is set in Tampa in the summertime -- does that make Scrooge a financially-struggling stripper who has still found a way to live in excess, albeit quite unhappily?) Like an apparition from Mike’s past, young Adam reminds Mike what his life was like before it started spiralling downward, and it is by spending time with Adam that Mike discovers an option to improve his life. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Dallas has offered Mike a slice of equity in a beachfront club in Miami that promises to be a much bigger version of Club Xquisite, which basically means that Mike's current lifestyle will soon be jacked-up on steroids. But as Mike observes Adam's downward spiral into the seedy world of perpetual parties, drugs, sex and easy money he recognizes the safety and security of Brooke, a woman who works a respectable day job and lives an extremely bland existence.  That's right, Brooke can save Mike from the seedy life of a stripper!

So, on one level, Magic Mike works as a portrait of working-class struggles; people who are striving for financial success and have learned how to (temporarily?) live in gross extravagance by way of the few options that are currently available to them. This is a world in while women represent security, while men aimlessly flounder around until they recognize the strength and maturity of the women around them. In other words, women allow men to realize their dreams and true potential. Without the guidance of women, men waste their money, they buy big ass SUVs and invest in get-rich-quick schemes (such as male strip clubs and drug deals).

But relationships in Steven Soderbergh's hyper-real universe are not just another business transaction. Relationships are just as much about sexual attraction. Against her better judgment, Brooke is attracted to Mike because he represents a sexier and more honest alternative to her boyfriend (Reid Carolin);just as it is Brooke's physical beauty that first catches Mike's attention. Playing with the concepts of observation and perception, Soderbergh's film is about watching people and watching people watch other people as well as what the voyeurs learn about the people that they watch. The most obvious example is when Brooke visits Club Xquisite. She stands in the back of the club, remaining totally detached as an observer, as if this is merely a sociological experiment for her. We observe Brooke as she reacts to the hordes of women swooning over Mike. It is clearly the way that the women are watching and reacting to Mike that interests Brooke, not his performance. Brooke explains to Mike later that by observing this particular moment she gets what he does and why he does it. (Not one for expository dialogue, Soderbergh refrains from having Brooke lecture us on her findings.)

The narrative comes to a grinding halt any time the camera enters Club Xquisite -- which functions as a total escape from reality for its entertainers and their audience. The stage presentations are choreographed like scenes from classic Hollywood musicals. Everything is hilariously over-the-top from the stage design to the lighting and the props, not to mention the cartoonishly hammy ringleader, Dallas (McConaughey is nothing short of brilliant). Visually, this topsy-turvy carnival turns 100-plus years of the objectification of women in cinema on its head. Soderbergh presents us with the Cock-Rocking Kings, men with impeccable pecs and 12-pack abs, flaunting their bulging banana hammocks and taut bare buttocks (which garner a fair share of close-ups and zoom ins) for the audience to ogle and fantasize about. All the while, Magic Mike is an overtly intelligent, message-driven film that is worthy of inclusion in gender studies curriculum.
Designed By Blogger Templates | Distributed By Gooyaabi Templates