Sunday, August 16, 2009

Movie Review: Public Enemies (2009)


Public Enemies (2009)


No one does it quite like Michael Mann. Whether it’s sex or violence, or both, no one will saturate the audience so well in the intended scene of adrenalin more so than he, who is truly a unique filmmaker. And that’s something that constitutes its own film classification. Similar to Quentin Tarantino, a Michael Mann film really is Michael Mann’s take on something, something in his signature style. But where Tarantino will intentionally take the hyperbolic/campy route, Mann will journey along the cinéma vérité highway (and probably at night), picking up a few tricks along the way. Of course, this is all old news, and the quality, craft, and innovation that we’ve come to expect from Mann is certainly alive and shooting in Public Enemies (2009).

Public Enemies tells the true events surrounding the escapades of notorious depression era bank robber John Dillinger (a surprisingly docile but very likable Johnny Depp) and his eventual downfall at the hands of detective Melvin Purvis (Christian Bale, thankfully sans Batman mode). Dillinger’s roguishly good looks and quasi-Robin Hood complex served to both provide a media spectacle for needed escapism from the depression, and justify the true establishment of the FBI with the fearless “G-Men” leading the way. Purvis, of course, is the law man for the job, at the request of J. Edgar Hoover (Billy Crudup, capturing the closet OCD psycho perfectly) himself. What ensues is a frustrating cat and mouse game that covers much of America’s mid-west and then some, with Dillinger always one step ahead of the Feds. One could argue that Dillinger’s Marian, Billie Frechette (an always beautiful Marion Cotillard), is the reason for his increasingly sloppy behavior and eventual demise; but really, no one robbing banks can truly expect to live forever, can they? The acting is no doubt solid on all levels. Surrounding the strong leading cast is literally a legion of very capable supporting character actors, providing a rich base for both the narrative and the setting. But therein lies a bit of a problem: there are too many characters to be concerned about, which ultimately inhibits any real character development. This is no fault of the actors; it’s just that the direction of the film effectively barricades the audience from really getting into the lead characters, thus preventing the film from achieving anything excellent.

It’s been the better part of two decades since Mann last tackled a period piece (1992’s epic The Last of the Mohicans), and it certainly shows. Since then, the director has migrated toward a more personal and intimate film style, picking up a few digital cameras along the way. While that might sound like the recipe for porn, it has, in fact, turned out to be a further level of distinction for the filmmaker. That being said, it makes for one different kind of period piece. Truth be told, filming in digital makes the film seem all the more realistic, as if a documentary filmmaker was following every step of the investigation, and this is where Public Enemies excels. In addition, the film treats the audience to several meticulously crafted shootout scenes; some that rank among Mann’s finest, especially with the digital veil only multiplying the tension. By the time the film’s inevitable conclusion rolls around, it’s clear that Mann has made his point.

In the end, Public Enemies is a solid dependable Mann film, even if it isn’t his best. While it has certainly built upon the visual and technical blueprint set by Collateral (2004), it ultimately falls short of Mann’s predecessor, the exquisite Miami Vice (2006), where the digital canvas fit perfectly with the film’s grainy night scene (and where the characters had not a crevasse to hide in). Because of its successes on both the visual and character fronts, Miami Vice will most likely be Mann’s definitive offering of this decade, but Public Enemies is still a more than worthy parting gift and a fine product from one of the most innovative and unique major studio directors of the last thirty years.

3.5/5

McS

Monday, August 3, 2009

Album Review: The Jayhawks - Tomorrow the Green Grass (1995)


The Jayhawks - Tomorrow the Green Grass (1995)

The Jayhawks may have made their definitive album in 1992 with the alt-country masterpiece Hollywood Town Hall, but it’s the opening track of their subsequent effort that gives the band their definitive song. In fact, “Blue” might just be the summit of the band’s career, not just because it’s their biggest hit to date, but because it stands at a musical crossroads, the calm before the band’s relative storm. With its surprisingly smooth acoustic guitars (less twang), and keyboard/string buildup, “Blue” is a rich departure from anything prior, a sure sign that its residence, Tomorrow the Green Grass (1995), is a different kind of Jayhawks masterpiece.

In addition to having one of the better album titles ever, Tomorrow the Green Grass boasts a sort of anticipation in its music and concept (certainly apparent when comparing its lush spring-like album cover to that of Hollywood Town Hall’s stark winter scape), and the contents reflects that. The austere twang is largely absent here, replaced with subtle piano and occasional strings; however, nothing here feels overproduced. Tomorrow is still very much an alt-country album; it’s just been augmented with more melody. And in the hands of core songwriters Gary Louris and Mark Olson, the results are nothing short of masterful. While Tomorrow might not be as arresting as Hollywood, it’s certainly more accessible. The clear winner is “Blue,” but the expert arrangements and executions of songs like “I’d Run Away” and “Bad Time” give the album secondary gems against a backdrop of muscular song craft. However, the real secret weapon of Tomorrow is the new addition of pianist Karen Grotberg. The combination of more pronounced keyboards and female vocal harmonies with the standard Louris/Olson vocals makes for a much more eclectic and flushed out album. Indeed, the band rocks a little harder on “Real Light,” but then digs a little deeper on “Two Hearts,” only to soar a little higher on “Nothing Left To Borrow.” All in all, there is not a weak track to be found; only differing musical avenues that ultimately end up at the same satisfying destination.

While the album displays no feeling of finality, it would end up being Mark Olson’s final outing with the band, where he amicably left in 1996 to spend more time with his then wife, musician Victoria Williams (who is paid tribute on this album via “Miss Williams’ Guitar,” which feels like bittersweet irony in retrospect). Therefore, Tomorrow the Green Grass marks the end of chapter one in the Jayhawks story, but it also provides us with a distance glimpse of what was to come in chapter two. While the continual distancing from alt-country is not necessarily suggested here, its eventuality seems logical considering the bands evolution up to this point. That being said, this is a comfortable Jayhawks album, with the band at its most realized, before any of the upheavals or true sonic shifts. It’s their lesser masterpiece, but a masterpiece none the less.

4.5/5

"Gave all of my mercy/ Gave all of my heart / Never thought I'd miss you / That I'd miss you so much"
McS