The Place Beyond the Pines

The Place Beyond the Pines
Directed by Derek Cianfrance
Written by Derek Cianfrance, Ben Coccio, Darius Marder
with Ryan Gosling, Bradley Cooper, Eva Mendes
2012

People who are hoping for a stylish, Gosling-filled crime thriller are going to be as disappointed as those who watched Blue Valentine hoping for a mushy, Gosling-filled love-in. Re-uniting the star with Blue Valentine’s director, Derek Cianfrance, The Place Beyond the Pines is a highly ambitious, intergenerational drama presented with a hefty splash of social commentary. Ryan Gosling plays Luke Glanton, a semi-itinerant motorcycle stuntman who returns to his hometown of Schenectady, New York to find he has a baby by a past lover, Romina (Eva Mendes). Though determined to contribute to his son’s upbringing, he has difficulty making enough money to support himself, let alone his child, and ends up being persuaded to perform bank robberies with a friend. These robberies lead to a run-in with rookie cop Avery Cross (Bradley Cooper), about the same age and also with a small son. Their meeting has a huge effect on both their lives, and from then on the film’s focus begins to drift, first over Cross himself, and then on to the two men’s offspring, Jason (Dane DeHaan) and AJ (Emory Cohen), and how their lives are affected by the actions of their fathers.

Given the lengthy, chopped narrative, Cianfrance has to paint in fairly broad strokes, so the social commentary is a little simplistic and any points the film is trying to make are dry well before the routine ending. It's also very predictable, yet in a way that’s soobvious, for example the chance meeting of the two sons, that it feels less like a lack of imagination and more a deliberate lack of concern. Arguing that the plot doesn’t surprise you would be like complaining about how predictable it is that Jason and AJ are messed-up individuals; one of the main concerns in the film is social mobility, and so the sense that these boys are traveling down some form of pre-determined path is oddly appropriate, even if it would have been laudable for Cianfranco to find a way of doing so in a more interesting way. I’m going to single out the film’s depiction of the ageing process for criticism, as after a fifteen-year gap the only adult character who seems to have aged at all is Romina, and this is specifically because she’s had such a hard time bringing up her son. Bradley Cooper just seems to lose a little weight, despite a presumably highly-pressured job.

What I enjoyed about the film was the details, the touching quieter scenes and the strong supporting characters a result of Cianfranco’s ability to conjure depth from a few well-chosen moments, and a fairly great cast. Gosling and Cooper may seem a little A-list for what’s meant to be a challenging, meaningful film, but the former is ultimately more of an off-screen presence than on-screen, and the latter is continuing a well-advised move into playing characters that are actually intended to be not-entirely likeable. Eva Mendes makes the most of the only prominent female role – she’s good even though her character is mainly there through necessity; Rose Byrne unfortunately gets swallowed up by the essential maleness of the film. Emory Cohen, as the spoilt AJ, gives one of those performances that are so dickish that you can only be impressed, and pray he’s not just playing himself. The Place Beyond the Pines isn’t the sweeping epic it tries to be, but it’s by no means a failure.
Tom

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In the House

In the House
Directed by François Ozon
Written by François Ozon
with Fabrice Luchini, Kristen Scott Thomas, Ernst Umhauer
2012

Germain (Fabrice Luchini) teaches Literature to sixteen-year-olds. With a fresh class to work with, he sets each of them to producing an essay about their weekends: a simple task so he can assess their writing ability. A failed novelist himself, his discerning but frustrated eye passes disdainfully over one lazy note after another, before he comes across a piece different to the others. It shows a vaguely unsettling fascination with the home and family of a fellow pupil, but expresses it intriguingly, and what’s more promises further installments. His attention caught, Germain reads the essay out to his wife, Jeanne (Kristen Scott Thomas) who is as bemused by it as he is. The next day he finds the author, a quiet, intelligent boy named Claude (Ernst Umhauer), and, telling him he has talent but needs to learn, begins to guide him through the next installments of his story. But as he begins to impress his own ideas on Claude (and those of Jeanne, to whom he faithfully recounts each new chapter), is he beginning to take part in Claude’s interference with an unassuming family? Or is he just revealing more of himself to Claude than he means to?

For the most part, this is a film about the writing process, full of intensely literate discussions on symbolism and different writing styles, and rather neatly raising questions on the nature of authorship and how meaning is derived from art. Yet there is more humanity – albeit of a slightly disparaging sort– and character to it than pure intellectualism. Germain, a kind of benevolent Salieri, begins to cut quite a pathetic figure as his responsibilities as a teacher start to clash with his cherished creative impulses. Luchini is very good both on his own terms and as part of two double acts within the film; he and Scott Thomas are funny and believable as a cultured couple becoming addicted to Claude’s world and inadvertently finding themselves looking in a mirror, and it is amusing to watch him with Umhauer, and to try and figure out which one of them is out of his depth.

Both the script and the direction are very deft; interweaving imaginary scenes with ‘reality’ can often be unwieldy and damage the flow of a story, but here the subject matter more or less demands it and it is done very well. Ozon, a talented director and a good judge of when to be visually playful and when to rest on the dialogue, doesn’t go in for pulling the rug from under the audience or keeping them guessing as to what’s really happening. That question remains at the back of the mind throughout the film, but the format is really used, under the guise of appraising Claude’s writing, to go over the preoccupations of the characters and what meaning they take from events. I had the same problem I have with many French films with middle-class characters, in that I’m never sure whether the endless conversations about literature, art and philosophy are intended seriously or are mocking pretensions, but in this case either way works just as well. I can’t pick out any coherent overall message, but as drama In the House is entertaining and thoughtful even if, like me, you’re left with the feeling you should have reached a deeper understanding than you did.
Tom

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Compliance

Compliance
Directed by Craig Zobel
Written by Craig Zobel
with Ann Dowd, Dreama Walker, Pat Healy
2012

Stanley Milgram’s investigations into obedience to authority, referenced at the beginning of this film, don’t paint us in the most flattering light. Performed in the wake of trials of Nazi war criminals, they revealed some uncomfortable truths about the malleability of people in the right situation. Yet Craig Zobel of Compliance makes no further direct reference to Milgram; the story he tells is based on real events so odd he needs scientific evidence to back up the claim that “Nothing has been exaggerated”.

It is Friday evening at ChickWich, and general manager Sandra is preparing her unenthusiastic workforce for a busy evening. Slightly understaffed, and with supplies of various ingredients running low, her patience is fraying when the store receives a phonecall from a man claiming to be a police officer. He says he has a ChickWich customer with him who has accused one of the staff, a pretty 19-year old called Becky, of stealing from her purse while it was resting on the counter. He asks Sandra to detain Becky until the police can come and pick her up. Distracted, rushed off her feet and dismayed at the idea of having to do without a further member of staff, Sandra is cajoled, flattered, and gently threatened into complying with each of the voice’s instructions, even as they get increasingly odd.

Compliance runs on understated, detailed performances, and a script that sounds completely natural despite a lot of effort clearly having gone into accurately representing the ways such a manipulation would work. To be completely honest, I’m not sure how believable I would have found it had I not been assured it was based on real events before the film had even started. But throughout, even as you are despairing of some people’s idiocy, and wishing you could intervene and ask a few simple questions to reveal the deceit, the actions of the victims never go as far as striking a false note. Though of course mainly due to the skill of the actors (especially Ann Dowd as Sandra), it also has a lot to do with the sheer amount of detail Zobel has managed to fit into the script. Had he simply inserted as much psychological research as possible the film would have come across as dry and over-scientific, but he has taken the trouble to draw rounded characters, whose quirks and personal resentments believably inform their actions, and occasionally point you in the wrong direction as to how you think they might react to the anonymous authority. It results in a captivating yet uncomfortable psychological drama; you might watch with a growing sense of disbelief, but it will be disbelief not in the film itself, but in what people are capable - or sometimes incapable - of.
Tom

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