Blue Valentine (2010)

Contemporary cinema is a juggernaut producer of romance films tracing a couples' elevation of compassion to a seemingly immortal love. This commonplace depiction of love certainly evokes a grandiose falsity: love is easy and love invincibly endures. When the last frame vanishes from the screen, the dominating denouement is of course one teeming with superficial catharsis. With Blue Valentine, it's as if Derek Cianfrance, the film's co-writer and director, felt that the phrase "gag me" had floated through his thoughts one too many times. Just as Dean (Ryan Gosling), the husband of the film's centerpiece marriage, ruefully admits, "Maybe I've seen too many movies, you know, love at first sight?" Among the ubiquity of portrayals of conquering affection, Cianfrance's Valentine audaciously confronts the pernicious obstacles of relationships that other films apprehensively hurdle and dodge.

When we first meet Dean and Cindy (Michelle Williams), they are married couple parenting a bubbly daughter Franky (Faith Wladyka). The film's first 15 minutes are surely reminiscent of many parents' typical morning, as Dean and Cindy soldier on to their separate jobs, painting and nursing. Nevertheless, as drama strikes the family with the death of their beloved dog, we begin to realize that Dean and Cindy's marriage is in mid crumble.

The film advances in a non-linear fashion, jumping back and forth from the early formations of the relationship to current time. The juxtaposition of Dean and Cindy's blooming interest for one another against their distinctly deteriorated state proficiently elaborates what Cianfrance intends to address. In one moment, as Cindy skips playfully to Dean's ukulele performance, it is confounding to imagine how this darling unity could possibly be anything else. The time flipping is charged with such a hyper contrast of building ardor and corroding tension that Valentine drags the viewer along a whirl of undulating emotion. Part of Cianfrance's genius is pitting the slowly culminating eruption alongside an equally forceful bonding.

Let there be no debate, Gosling and Williams astound. Seldom do two characters band to form a relationship that conjures nearly simultaneous heartrending and refreshing sensations with the effectiveness exhibited in Valentine. Williams lassos viewers with her inhabitation of the severe character arc, bridging the slightly younger sanguine persona and the hopeless mother version of Cindy. Gosling has seldom entranced as well as during the hospital scene, the climactic portion of the film. Arriving drunk to Cindy's place of work, Dean has come with no purpose in mind, only to diffuse an enormity of pent frustration. While the tension unfurls in real time, one is desperately tempted to keel over in sickness at Dean's paining as he is stripped down to nothingness at the hand of Cindy's vicious words.

Indeed, Valentine tackles head on agonizing truths about the vulnerability of love and the mortality of feelings, but the film holds an interesting structure. The flashbacks collectively represent a time span of multiple months, but the scenes in current time sum to just over a single day. Years of time sit in between the two narratives. This formula makes for a truly enlightening cinematic experience, for without it, the film would simply be a story of meaningless patchwork. The film's gaping hole is fitting; Valentine does not intend to dole out all the answers. If it did, the film would take a seat tantamount to a myriad of others in the romance genre. The history of Dean and Cindy is one of sophisticated love, one that unassumingly reaches into the dark, unknowing of what is to come. 

Grade: Flat 9

     I would like to devote a post to explaining the title change of the site. Previously dubbed "The Red Review," the site is now entitled "Reel to Reel." The new title is based on the mechanics of a film projection system. In a film projector, the reel of film shoots out from the supply reel, passes through the gate where the frames are flashed onto the screen, and then collected once again by the take-up reel. The process is continued until all of the film from the supply reel has been accumulated in the take-up reel. So, technically, a film is viewed during the time it takes for the film to pass from "reel to reel." Pretty enlightening, huh?

     Lastly, as you may have noticed in my first review, I assigned the grade of a "Flat 8" to The Long Goodbye. The grading system I will use to accompany my reviews will be a 1 to 10 scale, with 1 being the most pitiful, meaningless, and putrid piece of filth and 10 being a film that humbles me to the point that I am confounded I ever thought I knew anything about movies (I actually don't). Oh, and for the sake of even further specificity, I will tac on either "light," "flat," or "strong" before the numerical evaluation.

Reviews to come: Fish Tank (2009), Blue Valentine (2010)

The Long Goodbye (1973)

     Upon being initially acquainted with Phillip Marlowe during the opening minutes of The Long Goodbye, one finds a man seemingly rid of obligation. A man who's chief priority is a late-night run for cat food and brownie mix for the band of pothead bimbos next door wouldn't appear to have any building concerns. Yet, in a matter of minutes, Marlowe is tossed amid a whirlwind of uncertainty. Meshed with an amalgamation of vibrant characters and gentle pacing, the mounting of the unknown helps bind The Long Goodbye to effectively provide a beautifully intriguing picture.

     As a freelancing private investigator, Marlowe must set his instinctive suspicions aside when his buddy, Terry Lennox, shows up at his doorstep desperately asking for a favor: one ride across the border to Tijuana. Marlowe smells trouble, but acquiesces, prompting interrogations from federal detectives, an ephemeral stint in the clink, and the confirmation of the Sylvia Lennox's murder. Effortlessly inhabiting the protagonist, Elliot Gould cogently exhibits the relentlessly suave sarcasm held by Marlowe, even in the grittier moments of the film.

Phillip Marlowe (right) shares a drink with Roger Wade in The Long Goodbye.

     Following his release from prison, Marlowe becomes caught in a net of conflict with an assignment to track down Roger Wade (Sterling Hayden), the alcoholic husband of Eileen Wade (Nina van Pallandt). Only adding to the subtle chaos is Marty Augustine, the gangster boss of Terry Lennox who is aggressively demanding the $350,000 Lennox failed to leave behind before he crossed the border.

     As the tension and ambivalence surrounding the murder of Sylvia Lennox accumulate, the audience is trapped alongside Marlowe in a cage of yearning curiosity. After all, Marlowe makes his living by questioning everything, so it comes as no surprise to see Marlowe set out to discover the truth of the Lennox case. Shot mainly on locations scattered throughout Los Angeles, director Robert Altman and his team exquisitely capture some beautiful neo-noir aesthetics. Despite the tranquility of Marlowe's disposition, Altman has no trouble expertly conjuring anxiety-ridden moments. In one instance, Marlowe is being questioned by federal agents in his apartment as topless hippies gyrate hypnotically in the background. In another, Marlowe is prying at Eileen Wade for answers as Roger Wade drunkenly stumbles to his drowning death in the background, all the while audio of waves pounding the sand are intermixed with jarring barks from a dog.

     The Long Goodbye totals to be an unabashed depiction of troubled relationships gone awry. The story takes the most honest perspective, that of an innocent onlooker. As Marlowe finds himself more entangled in the Wade/Lennox marital debris, the viewer gains a deeper sense of empathy for the witty chain-smoker. Marlowe, a man who remains true and honest to a friend, a customer, and a blackmailer, is only asking for the same in return. In the end, he prefers his supply of cat food to be his number one concern.

Grade: Flat 8

Side Note: Considering Paul Thomas Anderson's next film will be a cinematic adaptation of Thomas Pynchon's novel, Inherent Vice, I think it noteworthy to voice the possibility that this upcoming film is, in my mind, Anderson paying homage to The Long Goodbye. Having read the novel and knowing Anderson has noted Altman to be a central influence, one can see a multitude of parallels between Doc Sportello and Phillip Marlowe, with the investigative sprees that drive the plot, and even with the neo-noir genre of the stories. I could be overemphasizing the similarity, but I don't doubt Anderson will be confirming the relationships of the two films when Inherent Vice hits the scene.
   

     This post marks the commencement of The Red Review, a film review blog. The purpose of this blog is to share ideas, evoke discussion, and enlighten the mind of not only the reader, but of the author as well. I believe the art of film to be the most beautiful. The immense space that a film offers for an artist to express their thoughts is a canvass unparalleled in its potential for flexibility and creativity. Even more important is the level of attention granted to contemporary film. The cinematic experience is one close to the heart of the common man, and this is why dialogue about film is more important than ever. The goal for the Red Review is to provide honest, detailed, and illuminative examinations of films from the past and present. May this be the first post of many.