The Illusionist (2010)

"The Illusionist," while still being one of the most depressing films I've ever seen, is a definite improvement on the intense scathing and hopelessness of animator Sylvain Chomet's last film "The Triplets of Belleville" (a film that lessens on repeat viewings). This one is still ripe with pessimistic observation, to be sure. It sees how the power of illusion fades as time goes on, as rock music and television surge and the only sort of magic anyone cares about is that which can be used to sell merchandise. But it seems as if Chomet has matured since his first work, as he's created a much more refined film, that happily refuses to clutter its narrative. Instead of punching you, this one takes smaller jabs, and is all the better for it. Maybe Chomet needed a Jacques Tati screenplay for this sudden growth, but who knows?

In its opening quarter, the film seems to be going down the wrong path. The Illusionist (voiced by Jean-Claude Donda), a real magician (in that he really can pull things from thin air on a day-to-day basis) goes from audience to audience, no one appreciating his work. (They're more impressed by a fictionalized version of the Beatles.) That's until he performs at a Scottish pub, where, despite a jukebox being installed, people seem to respond to the tricks. The person who does most of all is Alice (Eilidh Rankin), a poor waitress who secretly follows the Illusionist when he sets off for Edinburgh (when the film arrives there, it starts to step right).

The film centers its social/economical satire on Alice, as she becomes assimilated into the constantly upgrading culture foreign to her. The Illusionist gave her red shoes before, but now she wants the white shoes and the Cinderella-type dress in the storefront windows. The film goes full-on critical when it completes a rhyming shot of Alice, now all primped up in expensive finery, walking as a country girl who looks just like her looks on in admiration (Alice was in this role earlier on). The film also places the Illusionist and Alice (as well as the Illusionist's abrasive hat-rabbit) in a hotel alongside a ventriloquist, a clown, and a trio of acrobats (all, except maybe the acrobats, heading towards a downfall) to chart how the times are a-changin'. And, as per usual, greedy businessmen take money that's not theirs when it's left unattended.

Chomet is nowhere near as good of a filmmaker as he is a visual artist or composer (the animation and music are both frequently astounding). He gives more establishing shots of Edinburgh than you can count, so many that it feels like one a minute. The man also needs to work on his skills of cohesion. The scenes never really flow together, and the movie would be better off if they did. But critics go crazy over his works, so why change a single thing? "The Illusionist," though, definitely deserves a nomination for Best Animated Film, and I want to at some point see it again (when I'm in a good enough mood), which is a good sign for a movie. It's actually pretty interested in being sublime, and it's hard to be cynical in the face of that. B

Four Lions

"Four Lions" is a sloppy movie that shows in every single scene that it is the work of someone experienced with television and not feature films. Christopher Morris is apparently very famous in England. I see from his IMDb page that he's only written and directed television shows, like "Nathan Barley" and "The Day Today." This is a great way to build up a fan base, but it may leave you out of touch with cinematic instincts. That's what's happened to Morris. For example, he uses a lot of establishing shots and thus makes the film come off as episodic. As I said in my review of "Hereafter," this reeks of a sitcom. A real filmmaker puts their faith in the audience and segues right in with regular shots.

But I wouldn't care about this as much if the film delivered. Let me tell you: it really doesn't. This is a British comedy and satire that is reported to produce many laughs. Nearly all of mine were forced. When these types of films don't work (like Winterbottom's "Tristam Shandy"), they can be very middling, and that's exactly what this is.

This film barely even has a plot: we follow a group of inane terrorists as they try over and over again to orchestrate a suicide bombing. Omar (Riz Ahmed) is very serious about it all, the most diehard of the group. Barry (Nigel Lindsay), a sometime panelist, is hellbent on blowing up a mosque so that he can get Muslims to rise up. Waj (Kayvan Novak) is basically a puppet, who can be easily swayed ideologically with the promise of going on theme park rides when he's in heaven. Fessal (Adeel Aktar) earnestly buys chemicals at the same store with "different voices," and one of the more minor members of the group. And finally, we have Hassan (Arsher Ali), who joins the group later on after he pulls an audacious but senseless stunt in the audience of one of Barry's talks. We follow them through their mishaps, in terrorist training camp, videotaping themselves, and sometimes just blowing up microwaves for good measure. This is all put together in a way devoid of sense, somehow not developing characters enough to really make us care about them. It must be said, though, that at a certain point, I stop finding people failing and arguing about silly stuff humorous. There are people that do like this kind of thing, and they will be satiated. However, they won't be enriched by a quality film experience.

When we get to the ending, set during the London Marathon, Morris doesn't flinch at surprising violence. But even this he ends up making repetitive. He struggles a bit with tone, which doesn't help. It's really not his business. He's in it for setting up the music and the image, as that's what I assume he does with his television programs.

Morris hits some nice marks with his jabs at the faulty ideology of the terrorists. They completely misunderstand the meaning of jihad. Omar feeds it both to Waj (through the whole theme park meme) and his own son (through a story about "The Lion King") in misleading ways. There is also the idea of "following your heart," which is brought up in a scene between Omar and Waj where Waj obviously has doubts and where Omar has to convince him that "his brain really is his heart."

I will finally speak of the acting, which is a maker or a breaker in a comedy. Sad to say that "Four Lions" gets let down on this front. Ahmed in the lead role admirably plays a straight man, but he's not very good at delivery of jokes and this costs the film. Also underperforming is Lindsay, who swings and misses when it comes to making an endearingly annoying character and ends up just with the latter half. I didn't much like Novak either and had mixed feelings about Ali (who is admittedly better than his lookalike Aasif Mandvi, which is not saying a whole lot). Good work is given in my opinion is by Aktar making a comical character out of Fessel (providing salvation like David Rasche did in "In the Loop"), but he's such a small part of the film that it really doesn't matter that much.

I don't tend to get into the groove of cult films that cause unstoppable laughter. That was why for me "Four Lions" was a dissatisfactory movie. It definitely has an audience, which you may be a part of. Speaking for myself, though... C

Don't Say a Word: Silent Movie

Better known for such comedic vehicles such as "Blazing Saddles" and "Young Frankenstein", Mel Brooks churned out this masterpiece-and it may even be better than the other two. "Silent Movie" is an extreme gag-o-rama, filled with many hilarious, witty, and accurately satirical moments that are delightful. The plot: Big Picture Studios is a struggling distributor that needs to make more hits so that it can compete with Engulf and Devour, which is the big cheese of the industry. There to help out the struggling Studio Chief (Sid Caesar) is Mel Funn (Brooks), director, and his two bumbling sidekicks, Marty Eggs (Marty Feldman) and Dom Bell (Dom Deluise). The plan: make the first silent film in 40 years to relaunch the studio and make big bucks. How? Get stars, of course. The celebrity courting scenes (including Burt Reynolds, James Caan, Paul Newman, Liza Minnelli, Marcel Marceau, and Anne Bancroft) are an absolute scream and are some of the best work Brooks has ever done. Anyways, Engulf and Devour is watching the little company grow and decides to send in Vilma Kaplan (Bernadette Peters) to seduce the rising director (who also has a drinking problem). This proves for more hilarious results, and, although this follows a certain formula that Brooks has devised (except with Madeleine Kahn in "Blazing Saddles"), it works well. This leads to the arousing of Funn's drinking problems and, when Kaplan quits E and D, a new member of the Big Picture Studios team. In the end, the shoot works out (and nothing is seen of any of the silent movie in question), and provides for two things: an over-the-top chase sequence (featuring a previous "Coca-Cola" gag as a main feature) and a caricature of a premiere audience that ends up loving the film. Anyways, Brooks is good at endings and hits this one right on target, as he did with the zany and ultra silly fight at the end of "Blazing Saddles." Now, to the message and technicalities: this movie is not only a parody of the moviemaking biz but of Hollywood itself, with jokes about fashion, acupuncture, and star maps. Also, the movie provides laughs in it's idea, taking advantage of being able to put different things on the title cards than what is actually said, plus, allowing for a surprise gag with Marceau that is ironic and very funny. Also, it uses old-time sound effects to also produce mad gags. On another subject, Brooks is good and has a versatile face that works wonders and gets across a lot of expression. Feldman takes up the sidekick role again (he was obviously Igor in "Young Frankenstein") and does it well. Deluise is okay. Bottom line: this film is amazingly funny, and I don't need any more words than that. A