FILM REVIEW: THE FIGHTER

Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale) and Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg) in The Fighter.

Rocking bulls in Boston 

By John Esther

Based on a true story, "Irish" Mickey Ward (Mark Wahlberg) is a boxer living in the shadows of his older half brother, Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale), the first boxer to knock down Sugar Ray Leonard during a professional match. Eklund taught Ward everything he knows about fighting, but the time for a successful future in boxing for Ward runs against the successful past in boxing for Eklunds. 

Eklund is now trying to spank the monkey on his back known as crack. In fact he is the subject of an HBO documentary about crack. Eklund gets high, misses training sessions and breaks laws to feed the need. (Does anybody do "skinny" better than Bale?) Ward requires reliability in order to win.

Now in his early 30s, Ward may be taking his last shots in the ring. He might make it, but it could require severing ties from his half brother and his meddling mother, Alice Ward (Melissa Leo), plus her seven co-dependent daughters (Melissa McMeekin, Bianca Hunter, Erica McDermott, Jill Quigg, Dendrie Taylor, Kate O'Brien and Jenna Lamia). 

In contrast, Edwards' new girlfriend, Charlene Fleming (Amy Adams) -- an "MTV Girl" who is as independent, smart and attractive as the daughters are not -- and others insists he will have to cut the family ties if he is to have a fighting chance.  

The dilemma for Ward is nobody knows his strengths as well as Eklund and company yet they are also his biggest problem. With friends supporting him and family hindering him, The Fighter raises questions about choosing between family and friends, family and one's self, friends and one's self. In the tight white community of Lowell, MA. a man can only go so far if he chooses one over the other -- especially if he fails in the ring. Yet the decision is not so precise as George Ward (an excellent Jack McGee) supports the split from the family.

If you are familiar with boxing history you know how the story ends. If you do not, take a seat and find out for yourself. Either way The Fighter pays off.

Directed by David O. Russell (Flirting with Disaster; Three Kings), The Fighter has a tempo harking back to various boxing films of the late 1970s and early 1980s -- which the film is not afraid to acknowledge via homages vis-a-vis Rocky-esque montages and Raging Bull aesthetics. As the film is set in Lowell, MA. during the early 1990s on paper yet the people are mentally trapped in 1980s (e.g. the soundtrack), this comes off rather smoothly.

There are also some wonderful performances in The Fighter, in particular Leo and Bale, who will probably receive Oscar nominations, with both having a strong chance of winning in the supporting categories. 

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FILM REVIEW: LET ME IN

A scene from Let Me In.

Girls just want to have blood
 
By Don Simpson

If you are a fan of Tomas Alfredson’s Let the Right One In, you more than likely welcomed the news of Matt Reeves’ (Cloverfield) remake with one word: Why? 

It seemed like the only “reasonable” answer was that there must be a significant enough segment of the world’s English-speaking film audience that would prefer to see John Ajvide Lindqvist's book, Låt den rätte komma in, adapted for the silver screen without pesky subtitles. Considering just how faithful writer-director Matt Reeves’ remake is to Alfredson’s original (sometimes it is shot-for-shot and word-for-word), the subtitle logic seems pretty sound. No matter how puzzling that logic is to me, all I can say is that at least Reeves did not screw it up.

Let Me In takes place in Los Alamos (a small New Mexican town Northeast of Santa Fe that was founded as a secret planned community for the employees of the Manhattan Project during World War II) during the winter of 1983. A televised speech by then-U.S President Ronald Reagan features prominently in the opening scene and sets the political undertone of Reeves’ film. This is a time period of economic discontent and rampant divorce in the U.S. The entire nation is suffering and in search for a savior and Reagan is on the boob tube preaching about Jesus and evil. (Whatever happened to the separation of church and state?) This setting is very similar to the dismal political and economic subtext of Let the Right One In (though it is discussed much more subtly by Alfredson). Let the Right One In takes place in a downtrodden Stockholm apartment complex (which Reeves rebuilds in Los Alamos) -- clearly representing Sweden’s social democracy, which is in decline -- and the protagonist’s (Oskar) parents are divorced. Setting the film in 1983 also allows Reeves to showcase the kitschy elements of early 1980s American popular culture such as video arcades, Rubik’s Cubes and pop music (we hear songs like Culture Club’s “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?” and David Bowie’s “Let's Dance” on the radio).

The story begins as a mysterious man, disfigured by acid, is brought to the hospital. He is a suspect in a wave of seemingly ritualistic murders, a detective (Elias Koteas) arrives to question him. I am not sure why Reeves opts to start the film here, other than to place more emphasis on the one character who was not part of Alfredson’s original film. (The townspeople of Alfredson’s Stockholm are more aware of their surroundings than the people of Reeves’ Los Alamos -- Alfredson lets the community piece together the crimes, while Reeves needs to bring in a detective in order to do so.) From the hospital, we flashback to when 12-year-old Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee) meets Abby (Chloe Moretz) -- Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant) and Eli (Lina Leandersson), respectively, from Let the Right One In.

Owen’s gender is more ambiguous than Oskar’s. Owen is called "little girl" at school (Oskar was just called a pig) and his hair style and fashion sense clearly identifies him as an “other” at school. Owen is the stereotypical weirdo/outcast -- the bullies are also hyperbolic stereotypes and much more violent (the bullies in Let the Right One In seem more like bullies-in-training). Owen’s wee little pen knife is significantly smaller than Oskar’s hunting knife, making Owen appear even weaker.

Abby is slightly more feminine than Let the Right One In’s Eli; also, Abby wears a winter coat but no shoes, whereas Eli wears shoes but no jacket (and only a short sleeve shirt).
The most significant difference between Abby and Eli, however, is that Reeves turns Abby into a CGI monster whenever she is ready to feast, making a clear distinction between the girl and the monster. (Eli remains physically unchanged whenever she feeds.) It seems Reeves wants to very clearly differentiate between Abby the good girl and Abby the bad monster.

As far as Owen and Abby’s relationship is concerned, Let Me In is less about the troubling quasi-sexual relationship between the central duo. Let Me In is quite innocent and conservative when compared to the strange -- if not disturbing -- romantic subtext of Let the Right One In: the bed scene is significantly less sensual in Let Me In (though presumably Abby is naked); we never see a full-frontal shot of Abby in Let Me In (the full-frontal shot of Eli in Let the Right One In is truly discomforting); Owen and Abby do not kiss as passionately as Oskar and Eli.

Abby’s “father” (Richard Jenkins) violently strangles his victims in their cars while wearing a trash bag over his head; while Eli’s “father” (Per Ragnar) strategically uses gas to knock out his victims. Abby’s “father” is getting weak and becoming very frustrated with his role as her keeper; while Eli’s “father” sees no option other than to continue supporting Eli. Abby and her “father” argue loudly and violently and Abby’s voice sounds significantly more mature during their arguments (it clearly is not a 12-year old girl arguing with her “father”); while Eli and her “father” have arguments but we are far removed (and there is no noticeable change in Eli’s voice during the arguments). With these changes, Reeves blatantly tones down Abby’s love and affection for the significantly older man while simultaneous making the older man much more menacing.

As for Owen’s parents, Reeves opts to replace Oskar’s father (Henrik Dahl) -- who, other than when he is drunk, is like a best friend to Oskar -- with Owen’s absentee father with whom Owen speaks on the phone only once. Owen’s mother (Cara Buono) is a working mother; she is very religious (a devout Christian) but seems unable to connect with Owen. Oskar’s mother (Karin Bergquist) cares about him and enforces a curfew to protect him.

All in all, Reeves film is much more blatant and in your face than Alfredson's. Good and bad are very exaggerated and quite easily identifiable. Any ambiguity and nuances from Alfredson's film are abandoned by Reeves. The color palate of the cinematography might be the same, but where Alfredson uses long shots (emphasizing the loneliness of the characters) Reeves opts for close-ups (relying heavily on body language). If Alfredson used any CGI effects they were very subtle, but Reeves has no qualms about making the CGI effects very apparent.

I cannot think of any instance that Reeves is able to improve upon the near perfect Let the Right One In -- except for Michael Giacchino’s score which is pretty damn close to brilliant. Instead, Reeves abandons most of the qualities of Let the Right One In that made it a very unique horror film: the romance between Eli and Oskar; the relationship between Eli and her “father”; the ambiguity between good and evil (for one, Eli never morphs into a monster); and the poetic neo-realism. But as I mentioned in the first paragraph, at least Reeves did not screw it up. Let Me In -- although a more traditional horror film (and police procedural) -- is a well constructed and beautifully acted film. The overall plot (and a majority of the dialogue) might be the same, but the subtexts are completely different.

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