Archive '07 - Bicycle Review (The Truman Show)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE TRUMAN SHOW

4 Wheels (Spoilers Ahead!)

Bicycles have served many functions in movies. They’ve represented everything from childhood innocence to the drive to win, but The Truman Show may be the only cinematic depiction of the bike as an ominous force that hints all is not what it should be. Bikes make up most of the traffic in Seahaven, but how often do you see nurses riding to the hospital in full uniform?

Jim Carrey is Truman Burbank, a likeable everyman who seems just a little off. In fact, his whole town seems a little off, a bit too idealized, as if it were created for a TV show. As The Truman Show slyly teases at and finally reveals, Truman is the unwitting star of his own 24-hour reality television show that follows his every move and is watched by millions worldwide. Everyone he knows is an actor playing a role and Seahaven is, in fact, a giant set.

This is an enormously creative conceit and, happily, all the talent is in top form to make The Truman Show one of the most thought-provoking and emotionally satisfying films of the nineties. Jim Carrey, who was only known for his over-the-top slapstick at the time, proved himself a real dramatic actor (whose talent would shine even brighter in the phenomenal Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.) Little bits of Carrey’s shtick do sneak in, but it makes sense because someone raised in such an environment probably would end up a bit odd.

Laura Linney and Ed Harris give stellar supporting performances. Linney is Truman’s (Stepford?) wife who keeps her husband bewildered by launching into impromptu commercials on a regular basis. She is also the aforementioned bicycle-riding nurse and one of the more unsettling elements in Truman’s life. The always reliable Ed Harris plays Christof, the mastermind behind the Truman Show. Harris does not go for the obvious villain notes, but instead, he views himself as Truman’s surrogate father (not that he doesn't love those ratings.)

Veteran Australian director, Peter Weir, at first seems an unconventional choice for such a high concept film, but just as he did in Witness, Weir expertly empathizes with the experience of being a stranger in a foreign community.

It’s interesting to note that The Truman Show was released at the very beginning of the reality television craze and, as a result, holds it in a much more charitable light than if it had been made today. The filmmakers were naïve enough to portray a television audience satisfied with watching a real life unfold naturally and rooting for their hero’s happiness. How sad that the reverse turned out to be the case, and reality TV shows would mostly become cesspools of exploitation, greed and bringing out the worst in people.

Would we be better off in Seahaven? Like our hero, it’s a decision we all must make individually. Fortunately, once in a while, a special film like The Truman Show comes along to help us dig deeper and be entertained at the same time.

Archive '07 - Bicycle Review (The Good German)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE GOOD GERMAN

3 Wheels

The Good German may be a gimmick movie, but I have to admit, it's a damn good gimmick. It's filmed in the style of those classic spy thriller/love stories of the 1940s. It's not just the black and white cinematography, but the film stock, limited camera movements, use of sound and acting styles that give the distinct impression that this 2006 film was made in 1945, when the action of the story takes place.

Nowhere is this more powerful than the opening credits. The frame is cropped to eliminate the wide-screen that had not yet been developed in the period setting, while the retro-lettering and music seem to take you back in time. I could not stop grinning throughout the credits, but soon enough, it became apparent that the film itself is rather dark in nature. There are a few areas that The Good German distinctly does not make period, allowing for the inclusion of profanity, sex and violence.

George Clooney plays a reporter covering the Potsdam Conference which, in the wake of Hitler's defeat in World War II, will determine how Germany is to be divided. Berlin is itself divided into American, British and Russian sectors leading to much postwar intrigue between the Americans and Russians. In this, the film is reminiscent of perhaps the best '40s spy thriller, The Third Man with Orson Welles as Harry Lime, one of the all-time great movie villains. Its tone is much closer to that film than Casablanca, which The Good German's publicity is trying to emulate.

Casablanca is paid homage to near the end, but bike fans will also appreciate how similar postwar Berlin appears to the postwar Italy of The Bicycle Thief. Just as in the Italian film, bicycles are seen often as a practical means of transportation in the Europe of that period. Additionally, "The Good German" of the title, portrayed by Cate Blanchett, attends to a number of her covert activities (being purposefully vague here) on her bike.

Blanchett plays an old flame of Clooney's, but as the film opens, is shacking up with Tobey Maguire, whose sleazy role couldn't be further from his Spider-Man persona. As Blanchett's character is viewed with suspicion as a possible Nazi or Nazi sympathizer, the real theme of the film takes shape. With all the atrocities that took place in Nazi Germany, what of the supposed "Good Germans" who collaborated through seemingly unknowing action or silence. This issue's complexity is in stark contrast to the black and white film style.

Steven Soderbergh is an ambitious, but inconsistent director. His highlights include Sex, Lies, and Videotape, Out of Sight, and Traffic, but he can also be dragged down by failed experiments like Solaris and Full Frontal or the mindless commerciality of the Ocean's 11 films. With The Good German, Soderbergh has made a film that is too slow for the effect he seeks, but it really has something to say. Its own inconsistencies are the result of deliberately trying to bring two eras of film into one. They don't exactly fit, but it's fascinating to watch him try.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Malena)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


MALENA

1 1/2 Wheels

Malèna, an Italian film released in 2000, manages to accomplish a couple unusual feats. First, it's both juvenile and pretentious. More surprisingly, it's somehow managed to make the subject of sex utterly boring.

It begins as a typical coming-of-age tale in which 12-year-old Renato falls in love with the beautiful, but unattainable Malèna, played by model-turned-actress Monica Bellucci. Had this been an American film, it would be dismissed as a childish sex romp in the vein of Porky's or one of the American Pie sequels. I doubt their European counterparts are any better, but they certainly try to put more sophisticated gloss on their otherwise prurient subject matter.

So here we have an attempted sex comedy with serious overtones set in World War II Sicily, and Malèna is called upon to be both sex object and martyr. I'm sure we're supposed to read some kind of symbolism between the war and Malèna's suffering, but it would take a better film to hit that point home.

You see, in Malèna's village, nobody seems to have ever seen a beautiful woman before. When her husband goes missing in the war, every male immediately begins to lust after her and devise plans to get her into bed. Every woman burns with intense jealousy and assumes Malèna to be a prostitute. Only our young narrator, whose point of view we, as an audience, are expected to share, truly loves her. He proves this love by spying on her in various states of undress.

None of this is inherently inappropriate subject matter, but there are no full-blooded human beings portrayed on screen. We know exactly one thing about every character. For Malèna, it's loyalty to her husband. For Renato, it's his obsession with Malèna. For everyone else, it's either lust or hate for Malèna. So we really can't care about this kid's coming of age, since we don't know much about him. Malèna is reduced to her appearance and nothing else.

Unfortunately, this leads to a mean streak of misogyny in the film, demonstrated by its questionable use of nudity. Nudity, properly used, can be either an erotic force or a window into the souls of more fully developed characters. (See Body Heat for the former or Nashville for the latter.) While most of the exposure consists of quick, shadowy glimpses, the one scene of sustained and clear nudity is also one of violence and humiliation. Again, if Malèna were a three dimensional character, such a moment might have been powerful and horrifying. As it is, it's just exploitation.

Malèna is a bicycle movie in that Renato is given a bike at the beginning of the film and rides throughout. There's some dialogue to the effect that receiving his bicycle is a sign of his maturity. If so, it's the only sign of maturity to be found in this dull film.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Wired To Win)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


WIRED TO WIN

3 Wheels (if in Omnimax, 2 otherwise)

Any movie worth seeing is worth seeing in a theater, on a big screen and with an audience. Every time we watch a movie on cable or DVD, we’re watching a compromised version. Of course, in the real world, it’s impractical to limit our film-going to theaters, and it’s better to watch compromised versions of great films than miss them altogether. A film shot for an OMNIMAX theater, however, is a different story. Here the scope and scale of the screen is so vital to the experience that to view it outside that context means to literally be viewing a different film.

All this is a preface to my main point, which is that Wired to Win: Surviving the Tour de France is worth seeing, but only in its OMNIMAX format. As a film, it’s just so-so, but seen in its original format, there are scenes that take your breath away. A reminder - OMNIMAX is not simply a giant screen, as in IMAX. These movies can only be shown in specialized theaters, like the screenings we attended at Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry. The images are projected onto a domed interior so that the film takes up your entire field of vision.

Wired to Win is a short documentary with a split personality. It’s mostly Tour de France 101, describing the logistics of the 2003 race while showcasing featured riders. This is now the third Tour de France film we’ve reviewed (La Course en Tête and Hell on Wheels being the others), yet it’s the first not to assume a pre-existing detailed knowledge of the race on the part of the viewer.

When not on the road with Lance and friends, Wired to Win doubles as a very basic educational film. Computer graphics take the viewer through simulations of the human brain and how its electrical impulses affect the body and lead to our mental and physical functioning. Much time is devoted to the question of what makes us strive towards our goals despite great obstacles, few of which are more intense than those faced by Tour athletes.

Because Wired to Win only uses the Tour de France as a backdrop, the race itself provides only sporadic drama. Most notable is Lance Armstrong’s remarkable comeback after taking a nasty spill. French cyclist, Jimmy Caspar, suffers an injury early in the race, providing the filmmakers with an ideal opportunity to connect his recovery and return to the race with the science behind his motivation.

Were the film shown in a standard theater setting, all this would be informative, but not fascinating. What’s memorable is the visual panorama that OMNIMAX provides. A real "you are there" vibe prevails as the scenic mountains and countryside of France loom in front of and above your eyes. As the riders make sharp turns along the roads, the theater itself seems to tilt. What would otherwise seem to be cheesy graphics of brain synapses instead become a psychedelic 3D ride.

OMNIMAX is well suited to showcasing spectacles like Wired to Win. What would really be something is if some truly visionary filmmakers found a way to use the format to service the narrative as well as the visuals.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Empire of the Sun)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


EMPIRE OF THE SUN

2 1/2 Wheels

It goes without saying that Steven Spielberg is one of the truly great directors in the history of cinema. His best films are among the all-time greats, but even a filmmaker as gifted as Spielberg may go through dry spells. He's smack dab in one now. His last three films – Munich, War of the Worlds and The Terminal – have been among his weakest and least inspired. If history is a guide, he will recover.

Spielberg had a similar dry spell in the late eighties, and it began with the film we now review, Empire of the Sun. Back then we had to endure the sugary fluff of Always and Hook before he returned to form with the devastatingly powerful Schindler's List. Empire of the Sun is better than most of the above-mentioned slump films, but it's the perfect example of how Spielberg's attempts to move beyond popular entertainment toward serious filmmaking have led to some works being well below his own very high standards.

Empire of the Sun was Spielberg's second attempt at a "serious" film. The first was The Color Purple, which was significantly better. My guess is that he relied on his strong source material in filming the Alice Walker novel, so his usual "signatures" were limited to the visual look of the film. Empire of the Sun, on the other hand, suffers because he overly relies on his traditional theme of childlike wonderment, which served him so well in classics like Close Encounters of the Third Kind and E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, for a story that does not necessarily lend itself to that message.

Christian Bale, in an outstanding performance, plays Jim, a British lad living in Shanghai at the outset of World War II. Japan had been occupying this area of China and, at the time of Pearl Harbor, all American and British citizens were sent to prison camps for the duration of the war. Jim, separated from his family, is soon befriended by a shady American mercenary played by John Malkovich. Jim must grow up fast in this brutal environment as he witnesses the horrors of war.

To demonstrate this forced journey into adulthood, Spielberg uses Jim's bike as shorthand for his innocence. He is first seen riding around his family's wealthy estate carrying a toy plane, which tips us off to his ultimately bizarre obsession with flying. Since he cannot fly, he rides. After his parents are captured, he cycles through the empty rooms of his former home. Just before his own capture, his bike is stolen, never to be recovered, just like his childhood.

While Empire of the Sun's subject matter is grim, at this stage of his career, Spielberg could not subjugate his own optimism. The result is an expertly made film with beautiful cinematography that doesn't really know what it's about. It could have been a rousing adventure story or a tragic meditation on war, not both at the same time. In 1987, Spielberg wasn't yet ready to make this film, but Empire of the Sun can now be seen as a curious transitional work of an important director.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (BMX Bandits)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


BMX BANDITS

1 Wheel

I'm sure that the BMX is a perfectly fine bicycle. It seems durable, colorful and fun to ride. Unfortunately, it has also been the inspiration for some terrible terrible movies. First we were subjected to Rad, an anemically dreary mess about a small town kid and a big race. After having seen BMX Bandits, I'm feeling more charitable toward Rad. That movie was simply dull and poorly made, while BMX Bandits is a mind-numbing waste of celluloid with all the charm of a root canal.

This early eighties Australian import is best known as the film debut of Nicole Kidman. Her wooden performance is proof positive that a bad actress can be taught to be a good actress. No signs of her future success are visible here, and all she can seem to come up with is a spacey stare as her reaction to all situations. Nicole's co-stars are all equally vapid and now enjoy well deserved obscurity.

The plot (and I use that term loosely) involves three Aussie teens who, when not riding their BMX's, get into trouble by swiping walkie-talkies from some inept robbers. All this is meant to be fun and kid-friendly in the Disney mode, but even kids don't need their intelligence insulted. They deserve protagonists they can identify with, not interchangeable teens with no personalities. The deserve villains with some menace, not generic buffoons. They deserve action scenes that at least attempt genuine excitement. None is to be found here.

BMX Bandits is basically one long, painfully slow, chase scene. Sometimes the teens are on bikes, but the stunt work doesn't even reach the standards of Rad, let alone a quality bicycle film. When on foot, we mostly get inane misunderstandings over the walkie-talkies between the kids, crooks and cops. Come on! Walkie-talkies? No diamonds, gold or microchips - everyone's motivation is dependent on a box of walkie-talkies.

Meanwhile we have to suffer through dialogue Ed Wood would be embarrassed by. Bad guys yell, "We'll get you! There's no escape! You can't get away!" As the kids wander through a graveyard, we get such Scooby Doo lines as "What can people do to you when they're dead?" Answer: "That's what I'm afraid of." Now imagine 90 minutes of dialogue like this.

Then there's the music. There is a film term called "Mickey Mousing," in which an actual score is replaced by cartoon-like cues that mimic exactly the action on screen. BMX Bandits is just about the worst perpetrator of this reviled musical format that I have ever seen. Every time a bad guy appears, so does a simplistic menacing cue. Every time! Each BMX jump is accompanied by an equally annoying whoosh cue.

I'd hoped that Quicksilver would be the nadir of my Roll Film viewings, but BMX Bandits is worse. This Aussie fiasco gives new meaning to the term, "Down Under." As for BMX fans looking for a cinematic experience to celebrate your favorite bike, I'd suggest making your own film. It's bound to be better than those actually produced.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Hell on Wheels)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


HELL ON WHEELS

3 Wheels

As a rule, I try to review films from my own perspective and not attempt to imagine how they may be viewed by a hypothetical audience. In the case of Hell on Wheels, however, I couldn't help but think that die-hard fans of the Tour de France, those who have watched it regularly or even traveled to France for the event, would be in heaven screening this comprehensive documentary.

Like the race itself, Hell on Wheels is sprawling, chaotic, unwieldy and, at times, epic. As the film began, I was slow getting into it. Only being familiar with the Tour de France through news reports, I felt thrown into this world with no introduction. A quarter through, I stopped trying to figure out the rules and who was winning and just took in the atmosphere. This approach allowed me to appreciate what a massive event the Tour is and how many stories must be converging around it.

The strategy used by directors Pepe Danquart and Werner Schweizer is to show the Tour from as many perspectives as possible. Primarily, we follow the race through the riders themselves, mostly through the eyes of the German team. At other times, we assume the point of view of a television audience, a historian lecturing on the tour's history, sportscasters, fans along the route, French residents having to live with this annual onslaught, coaches (who are invariably either giving rubdowns or in radio communication with their riders while following them in cars) and even construction workers and security.

Equally chaotic is the music that goes along with the racing scenes. Not content to stick with any one style, it shifts freely from jazz to rock to techno to traditional French folk melodies. Even the opening credits make liberal use of split screens, wild graphics and quick editing to prepare the viewer for a bumpy ride. And a bumpy ride is the least of the horrors facing many tour riders.

Hell on Wheels lives up to its title by showing accidents galore and, ouch, they look nasty. We're helpfully informed that a serious injury almost always takes place on the first day of the race, not that a small thing like a broken collarbone will deter these riders. The power of the Tour de France is crystallized by the historian (biased as he may be) claiming that the Tour is a much bigger event than either the Olympics or the World Cup. For another perspective, a weary rider observes, "Why didn't I become a surfer?"

The race scenes themselves are entertaining, but not as visually striking as in stylized films like Breaking Away. Aside from the aforementioned crashes, most of the memorable scenes are backstage mini-dramas that showcase the personality of the riders. We're not meant to care too much who wins the race. While the result will be obvious to connoisseurs, the filmmakers don't even bother to inform us newbies who the victor actually is. It's the images, sounds and surroundings that we're meant to soak up. And we do.