the kids are all right

Director Lisa Cholodenko (High Art) certainly gives us a rare portrait of family life in her film The Kids Are All Right. The family is crowned by two very different women--the controlling, perfectionist OB-GYN Nic (Annette Bening, in one of her fiercest performances) and a laid-back, somewhat aimless Jules (Julianne Moore). Their two children are Joni (Mia Wasikowska) and the jockish Laser (Josh Hutcherson) who decide to contact their mother's sperm donor (Mark Ruffalo). Once the family meets the affable, motorcycle-riding, organic farmer Paul (the antithesis of Nic), Jules, Joni and Laser begin to feel a certain kinship with him. These new bonds test Nic and Jules and the family they have worked so hard to shape.

For many reasons, The Kids Are All Right is disarming. The cast is small and it moves along in a laid-back way, carefully observing behavior. The appealing but admittedly canned quirkiness of the film's setup (catching Laser and his friend watching gay porn, etc) is undone by a sometimes funny but an emotionally resonant second half. So few films have captured a contemporary lesbian couple trying to raise children so brilliantly. Because well-drawn gays and lesbians characters are absent in many films, there will be those who may criticize when one finally appears and the implications it may have for a mass audience. Though progress has been made, the two heated LGBT issues still floundering are DADT and gay marriage. While efforts to appeal to straights over why these two issues should so obviously be non-issues have been sluggish, the institutions of military and marriage are derided by many within the community. Some may gripe that Nic and Jules aren't positive images of lesbians because they strive for monogamy and mimic a hetero-normative lifestyle that many believe aren't sustainable or healthy. Yet the very real, flawed, loving family portrayed here thwarts any political attacks from the right or left. They are as silly and obvious as the knowingly bad judgements Nic and Jules fling at National Geographic specials. It's refreshing to see this family bicker and love each other in intimate, emotional ways without the tidy, sitcomish resolutions that tatter away at many maudlin domestic dramas of today (i.e. the wan, sans-conflict Blind Side). The Who song informing the title also describes the grounded and smart children of Nic and Jules, one of which, sets the breezy, casualness of the film with the film's opening on skateboard. The changing social mores reflected in the lot's wry attitudes (Jules and Nic drink from twin World's Best Mom coffee cups) is a welcome breather in the midst of an exhausting, ongoing struggle for LGBT rights in America. Cholodenko peppers the soundtrack with 70s staples like Bowie and a devastating rendition of Joni Mitchell's "All I Want" by Bening (the only and last time Nic and Paul connect) but also contemporary pop rock: over the closing credits is MGMT's melodic and somber "The Youth" an anthem of sorts for generational shift.

The writing is strong but really the cast brings this unique and intricate family portrait alive. We are used to seeing Annette Bening as flashy, larger-than-life characters, emoting with rapid fire dialogue (American Beauty and The Grifters) but with Nic, she does a lot without speaking at all. She has some funny moments with scripted daggers (a rant against organic foods is one of them) though an acting class could be devoted to the way she sits at a table, drinking wine, and simply reacts to those around her. And yet, watching the film, Nic is so real that Bening doesn't seem "actorly" at all. It's just fine work. Moore is usually good, but I don't think we've ever seen her with such acute comic timing nor have we seen her hit the emotional register she hits in a monologue towards the film's end. It breaks some rules by summarizing much of the theme but is so wonderfully and organically delivered, I couldn't help but cry at her character's heartfelt passion. Wasikowska and Hutcherson have quieter roles but make lasting impacts. Ruffalo, who was so great as a similar character in You Can Count on Me, again shades his role with many layers. There is something aching and quietly wrenching about the way he is so dismissive of donating his sperm (he quips that he did it because it was less painful and more profitable than donating blood) and so regretful of being unable to establish his own relationships on a deeper level. Perhaps it's a spoiler to recall this scene but I can't help but end this review on one of the saddest moments in the picture. After fighting with Nic, alone, from an outside window, Paul observes the clan at the dinner table. When he smiles at Laser, Laser turns his back on him. It's all fleeting but because of the steady hand of Cholodenko and all involved, so apt and so very poignant.

-Jeffery Berg

Great interview with Lisa Cholodenko on NPR and one on Towleroad.

Spot-on review by David Edelstein in New York Magazine.

Lesbian perspectives on the film: LezGetReal, Jezebel, Interview with Julianne Moore on Goodkin

cagey george in his glass cage

In adapting a classic novel for a film, it seems to me a filmmaker has the responsibility of at least capturing the spirit of the source, even if the adaptation makes many changes. Tom Ford's A Single Man is certainly a noble attempt for a new filmmaker and it shows a lot of confidence. Yet, by making Isherwood's George suicidal, the film version becomes plodding and morose.

Indeed Ford was probably trying to add some dramatic tension. He has recently shared that an unnamed family member committed suicide in a way similar to what George's character plans: "It was exactly that suicide. Everything planned, everything laid out, suit, cuff links, zipped himself in a sleeping bag so he wouldn't make a mess." By drawing on his personal life, Ford does indeed make the work interesting. Yet the book, so slim and fleeting, with pages of rich dialogue, is a celebratory and somber rush of a single day in the life of a middle-aged gay man in the early 1960s. Isherwood's George, particularly observant of his rapidly gentrifying Los Angeles suburb, offers many crackling insights. Ford infuses the movie with an overwrought, changeable warm and cool tone, exaggerated tick tock clocks, and slow-mo student film-ish shots of people's eyes and lips, to show George's isolation and fragmented world view. It has a healthy love for Bergman, Almodovar, and Kar Wai Wong's In the Mood for Love. And it is certainly a stylish affair (George's get-up is, as you may have guessed, Tom Ford, while Julianne Moore seems to be having fun with her part as a boozy, hopelessly in love fag hag with bouffant hair). But because Ford's George is so morbidly depressed, it's difficult to discern the meaning of whatever substance of Isherwood's is left intact. The entire movie becomes a will he or will he not kill himself kind of game. And that kind of dance can really only be viewed once. Isherwood's novel still feels fresh. Ford's film feels dated.


However there are things to be admired here. And perhaps it's wrong for me to do so much comparing and contrasting; a film is meant to be reviewed on its own merit. The re imagining of George as the sleek professor works largely due to Colin Firth and the brilliant set design. His modern, glass house, open for the world to see, is an ironic womb for such an isolated character stuck in the past. It's also a glimpse of the promise of what George's life used to hold. Colin Firth is a reason to see the picture. He has always been a quiet, very real presence in his best roles as difficult-to-read, aloof Mr. Darcy's. George is another one of those roles and he tackles it with gusto. The other supporting players are electric including the very handsome Matthew Goode as George's old lover and the very handsome Nicholas Hoult as a radiant, curious young student. The scenes involving these two really jolt George (and the film) to life. They connect with insular George in surprising ways. Despite the film's flaws, Ford should be commended for bringing such a strong cast to the screen and for taking on such an ambitious project.

-Jeffery Berg

i love you moore

Julianne Moore turns 49 today.

She is a fantastic actor... with a lot of duds on her resume.

Her worst moments are not because of lack of skill. Miscast in Robert Altman's Cookies Fortune and underwritten in Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia, attempting to fill the shoes of Jodie Foster's iconic Clarice in Hannibal and Vera Miles in the Psycho remake, at times Moore can look visibly uncomfortable.

And yet when Julianne is given a great role to tackle, her performance has a quiet, devastating power. This winter she's bound to impress again in Tom Ford's A Single Man.

Here are five great performances by Moore.

Amber Waves in Boogie Nights

As a the coke-addicted porn star, Moore is at turns tender, maternal and sometimes callous. It's a standout performance in finely acted ensemble.

Laura Brown in The Hours

When it was announced Michael Cunningham's novel would be a film, I wondered how such an interior character like Laura Brown be cinematic? She reads, bakes a cake, reads, throws the cake away, and bakes another cake. And yet, Julianne Moore's Laura Brown is a layered, eloquent characterization. Stephen Daldry wisely decided against having an older actress play Mrs. Brown in a final scene, instead trusting Moore's gifts. Bearing heavy (and daring) aged make-up, Moore delivers a haunting monologue of regret. In another scene standout, she communicates with her husband from another room while weeping, but from the pitch of her voice, she sounds perfectly fine.

Cathy Whitaker in Far From Heaven

Moore's other 1950s housewife is so removed from Laura Brown in The Hours that it's a marvel she delivered these two remarkable performances in the same year. Chipper and naive, she uncovers the dark secrets of her husband while falling into a deep (and taboo) interracial relationship with her gardener. Moore's Cathy is a touching and unnerving deconstruction of 1950s myths and Douglas Sirk melodramas. Like Todd Haynes's film, she is simultaneously antiquated and modern--an amazing feat.

Carol White in Safe

Another star vehicle from Todd Haynes, their first collaboration together, Moore plays a woman who develops a severe sensitivity to chemicals. The film is slightly uneven, especially when Carol enters a New Age clinic for salvation, but thrives on Moore's eerie presence.

Sarah Miles in The End of the Affair

Neil Jordan's film version of the Graham Greene novel is relatively forgotten today but still worth noting for its photography, Michael Nyman score and Julianne's turn as Ralph Fiennes's lover. It's all a pretty gloomy affair but Moore is masterfully understated.