Scorsese Pays Tribute with Hugo; Iron Lady Not So Much; A Better Life an Average Movie

YEP – Is Martin Scorsese’s Hugo worthy of 11 Oscar nominations? Probably not. But it’s still an above average slice of entertainment; and, for better or for worse, a film that needs to be seen on the big screen. In fact, the bigger the better.

The story is simple. An orphan boy works secretly in a train station’s clock tower and longs for a family to call his own. Ok, so maybe not so simple. You see, the boy’s father (Jude Law) was a watch repairman who dazzled his young son (Asa Butterfield) with gadgets galore, most notably an automaton that cranks out cryptic etchings. But only if you have the right key to fire the melancholy “robot” up. Hmmm. Where is that stupid key?

Oh, there it is! Around my new girlfriends neck. Whew! What relief.

Yep, the plot has a few convenient contrivances, and I’m in the minority here, but I can only handle so much Ben Kingsley.  I will admit the 3-D is pretty slick. I found myself reaching out to scratch Sacha Baron Cohen’s tootsies a couple of times. He was practically resting his sore dogs on my lap!

At its core, Hugo is Scorsese’s Cinema Paradiso. Not only is it a tribute to the cinema, but moreover it is a testament to one of the director’s passions: film restoration. A worthwhile endeavor, not a bad film, but man I am sick of wearing those stupid glasses. Enough already with the 3-D.

YEP - Stating that Meryl Streep is the greatest film actress of all time is no leap. Still, I had reservations going in to The Iron Lady. Mostly, because it was directed by the woman, Phyllida Lloyd, who brought us the silly train wreck Mama Mia! 

I was right to be concerned.

Tackling a film about Margaret Thatcher was surely a daunting task. Lloyd chose to tell the former Prime Minister’s political story through flashbacks brought on by her dementia and acute paranoia. Not all that flattering. But Streep is spectacular and a lock to win the Oscar, as are Mark Coulier and J. Roy Helland for their makeup work.

Much of the present day story line is told through imaginary conversations between Thatcher and her late husband, played with his usual panache by the consistently watchable Jim Broadbent. There are a few strong scenes showcasing  Thatcher’s ability to not only hold her own amongst the old guard in parliament, but even chop them off at the knees. Ultimately, however, it is a film that leaves the audience feeling pity for this monumental world leader, rather than admiration.

YEP - I’m guessing that A Better Life was inspired by the classic Italian film Bicycle Thieves (or The Bicycle Thief). If it wasn’t, it should have been. Much to learn from that one.

The Bicycle Thief was a simple but brilliant morality tale between a father and son. A Better Life is a simple, but not so brilliant, illegal immigration tale between a father and son that comes off a bit too much like an ABC after school special. It’s not a bad picture, just a little thin. Kind of surprising considering it was directed by Chris Weitz (About a Boy).

It did snag Mexican born actor, Demian Bichir, an Oscar nomination. Pretty amazing example right there of the American Dream. Give it a rent and tell me what you think.

No Doubt About it, this Guy’s Good

News flash here: Philip Seymour Hoffman is a good actor.

Cut from that unconventional Charles Laughton, Ernest Borgnine, Gene Hackman mold of movie stars, Hoffman shows up in film after film, always adding depth and humanity to his roles. This year, tack on two more solid performances to the PSH resume with Moneyball and The Ides of March. the latter probably should have snagged him another Oscar nom, but that’s for a different post.

It was not easy to narrow it down to ten films, but I’m always up for a challenge.

Here are my favorite Philip Seymour Hoffman roles:

Doubt  (2008)  A performance that gets better every time you watch it. So much going on, attacked with so much energy, intellect and compassion. Hoffman manages to walk the tightrope for us, leaving us to question to the very end his innocence. But not in question in Doubt is the beauty of his craft. “Where is your compassion?” he asks his accuser. And we then ask ourselves the very same question. Isn’t that art at its very best?

Capote  (2005)  A worthy Oscar win for PSH. Always a risk to take on a well-known personality. No problem for this actor, who always lets the material breathe, always pays such close attention to detail, and fully inhabits both the physical and emotional life required.

Magnolia  (1999)  Again, a thoughtful performance in a brilliant film filled with thoughtful performances. Hoffman’s hospice phone call to the min-mart for the dying Jason Robards, after finally getting around to asking for the porno mags, her response “Do you still want the peanut butter, bread, and cigarettes?” is classic.  Magnolia is one of my top five favorite films of all time; and you might say Hoffman’s ‘Phil Parma’ is the soul of the picture. The way he removes the imaginary pen from Robards’ hand on his death bed is genius.

Synecdoche (2008)  I will admit this film is aimed at a very small sliver of an audience: Those who find life in the theatre (or the arts in general) all-encompassing. But if you’re in that sliver, such is such a great flick. Not sure who else Charlie Kaufman could have cast to play this role. Another brilliant piece of acting from an actor who just gets better and better and better.

Savages  (2007)  This one was right in his wheelhouse, but that doesn’t make it any less significant. It’s an adult comedy with a smart sense of family and family loyalty. A very satisfying ending. If you haven’t seen it, put it on your list. You won’t be disappointed.

The Talented Mr. Ripley  (1999)  A supporting role, but one that sticks to your ribs. Fun to see him play this kind of elitist preppy that first put him on the map (see Scent of a Woman). Reminded me of one of my favorite Richard Yates short stories “A Really Good Jazz Piano.” We’ve all known a few guys like ‘Freddie Miles’ in our day. Hoffman nailed it.

The Ides of March  (2011)  Again, not a huge stretch for this versatile actor, but his presence in a picture like this adds so much to the credibility because you know he has done the work to make it so. His scenes with Ryan Gosling provide the best moments in the film.

Punch-drunk Love (2002)  Aside from his Mission Impossible III (2006) role, this was his stab at a villain. And he was sufficiently detestable as the porn pedaling phone con ‘Dean Trumbell.’

Moneyball  (2011)  I would never have thought to cast Hoffman as A’s Manager Art Howe. But there he was, showing up in yet another solid film delivering yet another spot on, believable, and layered performance. His exasperation with Pitt’s micromanaging of his lineup was full of so much heartache. Funny choice. Excellent work.

Scent of a Woman  (1992)  Had to include the role that put this incredible actor on the map. Pacino won the Oscar for his over-the-top turn as the retired (and blind! “Whoo-ha”) Colonel; but I walked out of the theatre that day, 20 years ago, saying to myself “Who is Philip Seymour Hoffman? That guy’s good.”

Two Actors Who Blew Up in ’11

Both had three critically acclaimed films released this past year. Films that made us stand and cheer. Each performance stood out – both stocks rising, no doubt. Each had a blockbuster hit – one got to work with Pitt. The camera loves them far and close – I better keep this moving before I go all verbose.

Jessica Chastain and Tom Hiddleston are the real deal. Memorize their names before your next social gathering. Be it a kegger down by the river or a swanky Strip and Go Naked, foie gras on Melba toast elbow rub at Nigel’s cozy but smart Village apartment.

Ladies first.

Chastain may be a California girl, but her polish came at Julliard, and now’s she’s all growed up and rocking the big screen.

Early in the year she showed up in Terrence Malik’s intensely thought-provoking existentialist drama The Tree of Life. Her angelic presence as the nurturing mother to three sons and the wife to Brad Pitt’s tormented and explosive father was a thing of exquisite beauty. It’s a gorgeous film, elevated by Chastain’s grace and alabaster purity.

In The Help, Chastain plays a misunderstood “floozy” outcast with a heart of gold; and, in a film with more than a couple of memorable performances, almost steals the show. It is a role that, if in the wrong hands, would have upset the balance of the film’s tone. It’s going to be very interesting to see which actresses will be singled out from this picture with Oscar nominations.

For good measure, she played a very convincing Israeli special agent in The Debt, proving she can handle almost any genre.

British born Hiddleston began his year by running away with Thor’s thunder, playing the title character’s brother, ‘Loki.’ For a young actor, having Anthony Hopkins play your father is like showing up at a Toyota dealership and being handed the keys to a Mercedes E class. Smooth sailing. Hiddleston more than held his own, and even managed to elevate the performance of neophyte Chris Hemsworth.  On deck for ‘Loki’ is the highly anticipated Joss Whedon superhero megapack, The Avengers, and then Thor 2.

Next up, Hiddleston embodied the suave persona of none other than F. Scott Fitzgerald in Woody Allen’s sublime Midnight in Paris. For Allen’s concept of a writer’s fantasy world inhabited by literary greats to work, the actors had to be up to the task. While Corey Stoll stands out most as Ernest Hemingway, Hiddleston is a totally believable Fitzgerald, filling the screen with understated intellect and charm. Makes one almost wish he were playing ‘Jay Gatsby’ in Baz Luhrmann’s work in progress.

Finally, in Steven Spielberg’s War Horse, Hiddleston plays earnest British battlefront bound ‘Captain Nicholls.’ It’s a minor role with a major moment of foreshadowing requiring just the right actor’s touch to resonate. When ‘Captain Nicholls’ looks at young ‘Albert’ and promises to return his horse safely, we need to believe not only his intentions but his forecast. In this simple moment it became clear to me that this actor has everything it takes to be a major star.

The camera does not lie. And neither do I. Sure as pie these two actors will soar sky high.

Goodbye.

The Desert Island List

After reading the recent New York Times list of most desirable travel destinations, I couldn’t help but notice how self-indulgently pompous one can get when sharing such subjective trivialities in the name of public service.

Oakland? Number 5? Okay, I see you working. But…no, I don’t. Oakland? Panama City number 1? Whatever. Lemme tell you, folks, I lived in Panama City for nearly 20 years, six of my seven sons were born in the coastal village of Pedasi. There is absolutely no parking, half of the movie theaters do not have air conditioning and none of them have captain’s chairs, Diet Dr. Pepper was banned in 1989, and you can’t find a good falafel in the entire country. So, buyer beware.

That said, here is my list of ten albums that, were I stranded on an island, I would thrive with until my rescue or heroic “escape.” The temptation to dazzle my readers with obscure and intellectually challenging titles is great, but when I stopped and imagined actually being stranded on an island and having to live with my list, I found myself leaning on the albums and songs that would not drive me totally bat bonkers.

In no specific order:

Born to Run        Bruce Springsteen

Vs.                          Pearl Jam

August and Everything After           Counting Crows

Blood Sugar Sex Magik          Red Hot Chili Peppers

Purple Rain           Prince

Sign O’ the Times        Prince          

Appetite for Destruction          Guns N’ Roses   

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band      The Beatles

Achtung Baby         U2

The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle                    The Boss

“Huh?” you say. “What a garbage list of commercial crap!”

Here’s my logic:

The Counting Crows, U2,  and The Boss when I just wanna cruise the island, pick coconuts, and spear fish – while singing my sun-parched lungs out; Red Hot Chili Peppers and Pearl Jam when I’m in the mood for some good old-fashioned air guitar action (altho air bass is my specialty); I’d startle the wild boars and sand crabs with my funky Prince stylings, complete with mascara drawn on from beach tar residue; when angry at my present state of being stranded, I would blast Guns N’ Roses’ “It’s So Easy” until I calmed down and got back to the biznezz of spearing fish; then, once calm and back on my game, Sgt. Pepper’s would bring me back to the potential of man and the poetry of existence; and finally, by day’s end, exhausted from all of that stone cold jamming, sobbing, sneering, and sophisticated spear fishing, no song has ever been more successful at escorting me off to dreamsville than The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle’s “New York City Serenade.”

Now, hit me with your list and let’s hope we all get home safely.

Who knew Madonna was from Tanzania?

A few observations from last night’s Golden Globes telecast:

Ricky Gervais was funnier last year, but he still had me grinning. Loved when he asked Johnny Depp if he had even seen The Tourist.

Speaking of Johnny Depp, his bio says he’s from Owensboro, Kentucky, not Bordeaux, France. Ditch the accent, Depp. It doesn’t make you sound smarter, just Deppier.

No shocker that the Hollywood Foreign Press voting body would love The Artist. The Oscars will too.

Also no shocker that the Hollywood Foreign Press would ignore Moneyball - the French know as much about baseball as we do about medieval art. The Oscars will not ignore Moneyball.

Just as the Germans love David Hasselhoff, the French love George Clooney. Ok, I guess everybody pretty much loves “the Cloonmeister” (although I’m not sure I wanna golf with him!)  - but make no mistake, the Oscar will go to Pitt. Clooney may not even be nominated. The Descendants is a very forgettable film.

Giving Iran the Globe for Best Foreign Film was about as predictable as whether or not they would return our spy drone.

Angelina Jolie is scary skinny. That girl is getting interrupted while eating too often.

Nicole Kidman looked surprisingly healthy and unaltered. Perhaps someone told her The Wax Museum look was out?

Sidney Poitier was his usual graceful self. What a thrill for Morgan Freeman to receive the Cecil B. DeMille Award from Poitier.

Helen Mirren somehow managed to make her tribute to Morgan Freeman all about her. I still find it odd that she’s married to director Taylor Hackford. Seems she should be married to, oh I don’t know, Sir John Gielgud…or James Mason. Alfred Hitchcock?

I’m guessing Pepsi is paying Sofia Vergara a boat load of cabbage. Hard to calculate who got more face time during the telecast last night, Vergara or the Latin actress from Modern Family. I forget her name. Begins with a “V.”

Shows I need to give a look: Homeland, Game of Thrones, and Boss.

Mark Wahlberg takes low-key to new heights. Or depths, depending on how you look at it.

Peter Dinklage has been doing consistently solid work on-screen since I first saw him in the oft overlooked Living In Oblivion. Haven’t seen it? You’ll thank me.

Madonna was born in Bay City, Michigan. But she did grow up in New York, so I guess it’s possible in that uprooting she would now sound as though she was from Tanzania. However, if you play her moments in super slow mo you would almost think she’s from Uranus.

Enough Already with this Jason Statham Guy

What was mildly amusing over a decade ago when Guy Ritchie delivered us Jason Statham in Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels (1998) and Snatch (2000), has so outstayed its welcome it’s now become infuriating. And to be perfectly honest, I was already sick of him by Snatch.

Watching Jason Statham on-screen is like thumbing through Decor Magazine hung over. Watching Jason Statham trade lines in formula action movies is like sitting in the holding pen for two hours at the department of motor vehicles without your Kindle. Watching Jason Statham pretend to listen to other actors on-screen is like pretending you’re interested when a highway patrolman explains to you that your signature is not an admission of guilt. Watching Jason Statham hide behind sun glasses in various hoodies and windbreakers is like trying on khakis at the Gap and realizing you’re just  buying cheap slacks. Watching Jason Statham pretend to be involved in a love story is like thinking you’re gonna discover a great novel at the Denver airport snack stand before you board. Watching Jason Statham drive around really really fast and do donuts in muscle cars is like trying to back out of a parking spot at the Trader Joes on LaBrea in an Escalade while two separate Prius drivers honk at you. Watching Jason Statham crinkle his forehead in disgust is like crinkling your own forehead in disgust with a seven-inch nail sticking in your eyeball. Watching Jason Statham walk into a scene and then lean against something and fold his arms is like watching Steve McQueen in the The Cincinnati Kid, except it’s not Steve McQueen it’s Jason Statham, and it’s not The Cincinnati Kid it’s some horrible movie you foolishly rented. Watching Jason Statham try to put on an American accent…oh wait, he’s yet to tackle that enormous acting challenge. Forget that one. Watching Jason Statham try to have a spontaneous on-screen moment that he probably didn’t do in every single take is like watching an ant try to lug a crust of sourdough across the kitchen floor. Watching a Jason Statham fight scene is like watching an employee at Best Buy try to collapse flat screen boxes and fit them into the dumpster behind the building. Watching Jason Statham carry on a meaningless plot point expositional conversation with his shirt unbuttoned and his perpetual five o’clock shadow is like having your best friend dump a pitcher of ice cold Sangria over your head while you’re on the phone with your mother. Watching a Jason Statham film and expecting it to be any good is like going to the gym in your flip flops and thinking you’re getting a work out.

I tried to watch Killer Elite last night and it took me all of 17 seconds to regret it.

Jack in the 70′s

I shot a commercial last year with an interesting bit of trivia. At the wardrobe fitting I was informed that the location we would be using for my home in the spot was used in Chinatown (#19 on AFI’s TOP 100) - the modest Los Angeles home where Faye Dunaway’s character hid away her little sister.

When I sat down to revisit the brilliant Roman Polanski noir classic, lo and behold, there it was. The very yard I raked for the folks of Bank of America.

This prompted me to go on a Jack Nicholson film appreciation spree.

Everyone loves Jack. What a career. We will surely never see another like him.

To fully appreciate his cinematic significance look no further than his work in the 1970′s, a decade of films that begins with Five Easy Pieces and ends with The Shining.

Check this list out:

1970  Five Easy Pieces -  The scene in the diner where he tries to order the BLT is vintage Jack. One of many reasons to watch this one. Excellent script, beautiful film.

1971  Carnal Knowledge - Adult comedy with an inspired cast including Art Garfunkel of all people. Sexy film. A must-see for Jack fans.

1972  The King of Marvin Gardens - Not a great film, but marks another collaboration with Five Easy Pieces director Bob Rafelson.

1973  The Last Detail - One of my personal favorites. A simple story about transporting a military prisoner that evolves with such depth. Randy Quaid also excellent.

1974  Chinatown - “Forget it, Jake – it’s just Chinatown.” Watch the interviews on the DVD’s special features. A film noir masterpiece.

1975  One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest - One of only three films to win the five major Academy Awards (Best Picture, Director, Screenplay, Actor & Actress). Disturbingly brilliant and hugely influential. It ranks #20 on AFI’s list.

1976  The Missouri Breaks - This quirky Arthur Penn western marks Jack’s only collaboration with his longtime Mullholland Dr. neighbor Marlon Brando. Fun watching ‘em both chew it up.

1976  The Last Tycoon - Should have been great, but meandered. With Jack playing a supporting role to Robert DeNiro’s lead, a script by Harold Pinter from the  F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, and directed by Frank Capra. Still a nice day at the office.

1980  The Shining - Widely considered one of the scariest films ever made (although the slasher film generation scoffs). Nicholson proves here that a leading man can also be the villain – “Heeeeeere’s Johnny!” says it all. Directed by Stanley Kubrick, but starring Jack Nicholson.

Quite a decade of work. Then, for good measure, The Postman Always Rings Twice came out in 1981, meaning it was shot in the late 70′s. This was one of my first glimpses of the power Jack Nicholson brings to the screen. Oh, and Easy Rider (#88 on that AFI list) was released in 1969.

War Horse Soars

INSPIRED - The amazing Steven Spielberg has done it again! Making a terrific film that not only works on a high artistic level, but has that elusive golden Spielbergian touch of mass appeal.

War Horse wisely scheduled its release for Christmas day – and what a present it is.

Co-written by Lee Hall and Richard Curtis from the Michael Morpurgo novel, and shot by the one and only Janusz Kaminski, War Horse opens with a rural British farmer (Peter Mullan) overpaying for a thoroughbred at a town auction when he really needed a plow horse. He brings the beast home and quickly gets an earful from his more practical wife (Emily Watson). In steps their fresh scrubbed and eager to please son, ‘Albert’ (Jeremy Irvine). ‘Albert’ immediately falls for the horse they name ‘Joey,’ and promises to train it to plow and soften the rugged land.

The bonding begins, and because we are in the land of Spielberg, we know it will be tested  - and tested –  and tested again.

The adventure goes full throttle once Great Britain gets dragged into the war (WWI) and the father decides to get his money back by selling the horse to a local officer  heading to the front.

The young officer, played by break through star Tom Hiddleston, promises to return safely from the war and deliver the horse back to the boy. Although his earnest intentions are crystal clear in his eyes, we know this will be a difficult promise to keep.

What follows is a wonderfully woven tale of just how ‘Albert’ will get his trusty steed back. The type of tale that Spielberg tells better than anyone in the history of filmmaking, short of maybe Frank Capra.

There is so much to admire about War Horse. I highly recommend seeing it on the big screen. The bigger the better. I actually sat in the front row of a sold out theatre on Christmas day with my two youngest sons. We were mesmerized.

It’s a big film with a big heart and a very simple story. Honesty, integrity, heroics, and virtue all on display.

No Mission Impossible For Cruise; Warrior Wins Despite Formula

Yep Yep - Anyone who reads my blog regularly knows that I’m down with Tom Cruise. Always have been. But I’m not immune to his clunkers. The last Mission Impossible, for instance, was not good. Barely held my attention.But I’m happy to report that IMF agent ‘Ethan Hunt’ is back in form in Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, probably the best of the series.

One thing you can count on in nearly all Tom Cruise films is gravity defying action. The guy is an adrenaline junkie of the first order and some of the stunts in this film will drop your jaw. Cruise proves yet again that he can take the helm of Hollywood’s most ambitious fare better than all the rest.

MI4 opens with ‘Hunt’ in a Russian prison while his crew works their shenanigans in the bowels prepping for a jailbreak. But, because this is a Tom Cruise flick, it can’t be just your garden variety break out. Cue Dean Martin’s “Ain’t That A Kick In The Head,” as Cruise,  not content to merely break out, has to head back in and co-bust out a Russian prisoner who contains valuable intel (of course), and then run the gauntlet of rowdy, newly sprung thugs in order to rendezvous with his escape crew. It’s a great opening, followed by the well-known television show theme song.

The rest of the plot unfortunately revolves around a boiler plate mad man hellbent on blowing up the world. In this case the “nuclear extremist” is played by Michael Nyqvist, giving us a somewhat forgettable villain.

There’s a Kremlin infiltration scene and some slight of hand double-crossing at the world’s tallest building in Dubai that are spectacularly executed. Watching Cruise run along the side of a 120 floor building is breathtaking.

The crew assembled this time around is spot on and a lot of fun. Simon Pegg provides the comedy relief and offers up several doozies, like “You sure I shouldn’t wear a mask? I’m not exactly Omar Sharif.”  Jeremy Renner carries a dark secret and more than holds his own opposite megastar Cruise; and Paula Patton is gorgeous and kicks some serious booty – especially delicious is cat fight (not pc?) with a sultry Russian agent (Lea Seydoux from Midnight in Paris) who has it coming.

Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to carve out two plus hours to see MI4, preferably on an IMAX screen.

Yep – The Warrior could have very easily crumbled under its mountain of boxer movie clichés. But like a good title fight, the final round survives on heart and the end result left me feeling better for having made the effort to watch.

Director Gavin O’Connor (Miracle) manages to ultimately make us care about characters whose circumstances are far from original. We’ve seen these guys before – too many times.

But…

Joel Edgerton and Tom Hardy are well cast as the dueling brothers with tormented pasts, and the picture gathers significant momentum resulting in a touching final sequence.

So interesting, for those of us who have followed Nick Nolte from the beginning, to now see him play the broken down father opposite the rebellious and angry son; so similar to the role that first put Nolte on the map in the seminal tv miniseries        Rich Man, Poor Man (1976). 

The Warrior is not on par with last year’s The Fighter, but it’s a worthwhile rent.

New Sherlock All Style No Story; The Debt Pays Handsome Dividends

DRIVEL - I never thought I’d say this, but I’m tired of watching Robert Downey Jr. In fact, I would be okay if he went back to disappearing for years at a time and showing up disoriented and nude in strangers’ foyers.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows cost a fortune to make (over $100m), and while Downey Jr. backed up his personal Brinks truck to the Warner Bros. accounting department, most of the moolah is up on the screen. The film looks spectacular, a 19th Century urban London playground that is gorgeous to stare at. But they might have been wise to spend another six months and a couple of million more on the script – maybe even considered bringing in Aaron Sorkin.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is apparently about anarchy resulting in terrorism, and how when weapons and business collide war is inevitable (funny, similar theme to the original Iron Man). But none of this really carries much water.

Basically, it is not much more than an overly-stylized two-hour and ten minute slap dash collage of pithy dialogue exchanges and super slo-mo action sequences. Director Guy Ritchie has some inspired visual concepts and techniques up his sleeve, but the relationships in the film are window dressing at best, and odd to say the least.

The film’s main thrust is a seemingly gay love story between super sleuth ‘Holmes’ and his slender and docile side kick ‘Watson,’played by Jude Law. Law’s character comes off like a lamb in the wolf’s den as Downey’s crafty and manipulating ‘Holmes’ relentlessly finagles ways to get him alone – all to himself.

I identified this subtext all throughout the first Sherlock Holmes (2009). Here it is worn on the sleeve with ‘Holmes’ showing up in drag on a train to sabotage ‘Watson’s’ honeymoon, saying things like “Unlike you, I repress nothing,” and “lay with me, Watson.” And finally this cliché line of domestic matrimonial angst “Are you happy?”

If you have never seen the 1995 documentary The Celluloid Closet, give it a rent. It’s a fascinating look at the lengths that gay writers, producers, and directors used to go to tell “their” stories in otherwise conventional and commercial Hollywood films. So much of it extremely subtle – some of the inside winks not so much.

But in the case of Sherlock Holmes I’m not sure what the filmmakers intentions are, because it’s not subtle at all, yet there is no open declaration that the legendary snoop is homosexual, so…what gives? Seems cowardly to try and have it both ways in today’s more tolerant cinematic climate.

Since it is inevitable that there will be another Sherlock Holmes film down the road, I for one, will be happy when Ritchie goes back to making music videos and turns the reigns over to a better story-teller. I’m pretty sure the late ‘Sherlock Holmes’ creator Sir Arthur Conan Doyle would have agreed.

As for Robert Downey Jr.? Clearly he is enormously talented, but he is heading down the wrong path with his chops here and in the Iron Man role ( Iron Man 2 was atrocious). For me to watch him in either again, both of Downey Jr.’s blockbuster personas would have to battle ‘Captain Jack Sparrow’ in a bloody cage match where no one walks away.

Read Louise Keller’s review here.

YEP YEP - The Debt held my attention from the opening moments all the way through to the credit roll. There is not one wasted moment in this picture. It is shot beautifully, written with a clear intention, directed by a sure hand, expertly edited, and expertly acted. I loved it.

The actors, Marton Csokas, Sam Worthington, and Jessica Chastain, make a compelling and totally believable trio of Israeli special agents assigned the harrowing task of capturing a Nazi war criminal and spiriting him out of Germany.

I was reminded of two other war criminal films I admired, Spielberg’s Munich (2005) and Costa-Gavras’ Music Box (1989); but an even stronger recall of Roman Polanski’s Death and the Maiden (1994).

John Madden, Oscar nominated for Shakespeare In Love (1998), is really good here. There is not an ounce of fat on the spine of The Debt. Every moment connects and the action is taut and delivered with precision. Much like the Israeli military itself.

Writer Matthew Vaughn and cinematographer Ben Davis collaborated on the kick ass Layer Cake (2004). Here they were guided by Madden, who handles the material beautifully.

Of course it doesn’t hurt to have Helen Mirren and Tom Wilkinson anchor the narrative, a non-linear story that takes us back and forth between what really happened with their prisoner and what they told the world. The dilemma of their deception is “the debt” they owe.

Some of the accents are a bit wonky - Worthington and Wilkinson being the most significant culprits – but overall the picture’s authenticity, time and place, is never an issue. Chastain in particular stands out. The camera loves her and she is an outstanding actor. Remember her name.