REVIEW: Capitalism: A Love Story

Michael Moore may be many different things to many different people, but what sets him apart among documentary filmmakers is, he's funny.

While his movies usually have serious underpinnings, what has made him popular over the years is his sense of humor, whether he's trying to get a meeting with a GM chairman or whether he explains the history of firearms through an animated cartoon.

What makes his latest film, Capitalism: A Love Story such a strange animal is that it's best when Moore's not trying to be funny. Sure, we get footage of Moore's antics, and many of them did make me laugh, such as his trying crime scene type around the offices of megabanks in Manhattan.

The parts of the movie that stayed with me the most, however, were the ones in which Moore wasn't smiling. I was astounded to see he found the footage of FDR's final State of the Union address,  in which the president proposed  a "second bill of rights" to necessities like health care and a decent job. FDR died not long after making the speech, so his vision never came to pass.



Then there are more contemporary stories Moore tells, like the ones at Republic Windows and Doors in Chicago, who fought their layoffs by sitting in at their factory until they finally won their case.

It's in these moments that the film makes its greatest impact, by showing what can be done when people take a stand, and what people can achieve when they're more forward thinking.

Some readers may roll their eyes at Moore, noting his leftist bent and his tendency to play fast and loose with the facts. But some of those same people may be surprised to see Moore take a few swipes at the left. He comes down especially hard on Democratic Senator Christopher Dodd, whom he sees as very much in bed with the bankers. And he's merciless with Congress as a whole for agreeing to the bailouts at all.

As blunt as he can be, Moore's approach is sometimes a bit scattershot. A few scenes where he talks economics with actor Wallace Shawn are amusing but inessential to the whole. The film could stand some trimming to make its argument more cohesive, and more powerful.

Moore's decrying of capitalism as an immoral system may be a bit overstated, but the movie does highlight what I believe to be a central problem of American life, and not just of our economy.

Too many of us are afflicted with tunnel vision in which we only consider short-term benefits and we give short shrift to long-run consequences  that sort of thinking has marred everything from Hollywood to Wall Street. Capitalism: A Love Story asks us to look ahead, and to take action – and that's a point worth hearing whether one thinks Moore is funny or not.

NOTE: For a more formal look at the current economic boondoggle, see the  insightful and sobering I.O.U.S.A., streaming for Netflix members.

GRADE: B+

REVIEW: Bright Star

Roger Ebert once said that "there is something inside me resists the films of David Lynch." I share that sentiment when it comes to another genre: Something inside me resists period costume dramas. The latest, Bright Star, is and isn't an exception at the same time.

 I can understand why many people love the likes of A Room with a View, Howards End and much of Merchant/Ivory canon, but those films just don't sing for me.  I recognize the strength of the performances and the stories, but most of these movies have no visual energy – they come across as glorified episodes of Masterpiece Theatre – pictures of people talking.

There are occasionally exceptions, like Ang Lee's Sense and Sensibility, Joe Wright's Pride & Prejudice and even Merchant/Ivory's The Remains of the Day. I was hoping Bright Star would be among this group, given that it was directed by Jane Campion, best known for The Piano. Alas, Campion's direction is uncommonly staid, and that rubs off on the film. As was the case with Howards End, what saves it is an excellent performance by the lead actress.

Abbie Cornish plays Fanny Brawne, a headstrong girl who fell passionately in love with British romantic poet John Keats. Their match, however, is ill-fated, not least because Keats is broke and deeply in debt.

Cornish is outstanding and very moving as Fanny. She is a woman of contradictions, of many colors, and that makes her fascinating. Keats, on the other hand, as written by Campion and played by Ben Whishaw, comes across as a morose, sullen fop. I fully understood, why he fell for her, but I was a little mystified as to why she fell for him other than the fact that he was "John Keats." I couldn't muster up much enthusiasm for the romance when I was only rooting for half of the couple.

Adding to the ennui is Campion's unimaginative direction. She's usually much more interesting visually, but aside from the odd striking shot or montage, too much of the movie is yet another Masterpiece Theatre episode.

I do slimly recommend the movie on the strength of Cornish – the title of the film very much applies to her. The film as a whole? Not so much.

GRADE: B-

'Whip It' doesn't crack so loud at the BO

Drew Barrymore's directorial debut Whip It (which I review here) did middling business at the box office, which is a real shame. It's a very winning film that could catch on with a large audience if only they'd actually see it.

Over on the Hot Blog, commenter Scott Mendelson remarks "If women moviegoers at large cannot bother to support a purely mainstream and commercial entertainment that is also a good, genuinely feminist movie, then they deserve to have nothing aimed at them except more variations of Jennifer Aniston or Katherine Heigl starring in I'm Nothing Without A Man. To be fair, this is the same as parents complaining about quality family movies and then ignoring The Iron Giant."

I gotta say, Mendelson has a point, even if he is a little strident. Many times people complain there are no good movies out there, then they don't go when such a movie arrives. On the other hand, movie marketing is so saturated by the A-list blockbusters that the Whip Its of the world tend to get lost in the shuffle anyway. And speaking from a purely selfish standpoint, I have to say that I wish more people would hear us critics when we point them to that smaller, lower-key film.

Thoughts?

Who is this Sir Critic?

Once upon a time ... or maybe twice ... there was an unearthly paradise called Pepperland.

Yes, I know, that may seem like a strange way to begin a movie blog, although people who know me and know what I'm referring to are either smiling knowingly, or rolling their eyes.

For those of you scratching your heads in confusion, however, let me explain, and introduce myself. To paraphrase John Ford, my name is Eric Robinette, and I love movies.

 
My  opening line is from the movie Yellow Submarine, the very first film I can clearly remember seeing in a movie theater. The year was 1975, the place was the Victory Theatre in Dayton, Ohio (now the Victoria Theatre), and the rest ...

... well, I'd love to say the rest is history, and thus was born a film buff, but that's not quite how it happened. Like most kids of my age (nearly 39) I was more of a TV creature at first.  Coming of age in the 70s, I was silly enough then to believe The Dukes of Hazzard was a really great show, and I'm silly enough now to throw some credibility out the window.

By the time the mid-1980s rolled around, however, my interests began to change. I remember getting sick, and to keep me busy, my dad brought home copies of 2001: A Space Odyssey and Taxi Driver. Both movies immediatly engrossed me. Not long after, I saw A Clockwork Orange and After Hours, which, you may notice are another pair by Kubrick and Scorsese. Immediately I realized just what it was a director did, and I began noticing how certain directors made movies certain ways. I noticed Kubrick's cold, clinical eye and Scorsese's restless energy, with his forever darting camera. 

In 1989 I took a creative language arts class at Bellbrook High School that emphasized film (got an A+ on my Kubrick paper at the age of 18) and by then I was hooked.  Even though I hadn't heard the quote at the time, this very much applied to me:

"'Film is a disease,' Frank Capra said. 'When it infects your bloodstream, it takes over as the number one hormone. It plays Iago to your psyche. As with heroin, the antidote to film, is more film.'" - Martin Scorsese, from A Personal Journey With Martin Scorsese Through American Movies.

By that time, I had also discovered a talent for writing. It seemed only natural to want to merge my talent with my love for film and become a critic. From 1991 to 1993 I was one of the film reviewers at the Wright State University student newspaper, The Guardian, where I created the Sir Critic moniker. (That's a story for another post.)  I went on to a career as a reporter, and in 2002, after working at the Middletown Journal for four years, I was lucky enough to be allowed to review movies. Beginning in 2006, my writings moved to the blog Sir Critic on Cinema, which is still online here.  I was always surprised and especially pleased to get the recognition I did. 

Just recently, however,  my duties at the newspaper changed so that I became the Arts and Entertainment reporter for all of our coverage area. The enlarged responsibilities meant that I could no longer devote time to that blog, a fact I recognized with more than a little regret. Wanting to keep my movie writings going, I decided to take Sir Critic "private" and move him here.

Although I am no longer reviewing movies for the newspaper, I still see them  quite frequently. Long before I started working for a newspaper, I was averaging more than 100 titles a year - in the theater. I will bring you reviews of those films as I see them, and will also review ones I see on the small screen. I will also opine on movie news and whatever cinematic flight of fancy sparks my interest.

You might wonder what kind of movies I like. I like one kind: good ones. I like films from any genre and any age, so long as they're compelling.

But I don't want this blog to be all about me and my thoughts. One of my favorite things about the newspaper blog was interacting with my readers, and I very much hope to continue that tradition here. I welcome and any comments and suggestions, and constructive criticisms. Most importantly, I thank you for reading and hope you enjoy my musings. Coming soon: Reviews of Bright Star and Capitalism: A Love Story.

Because after all, as Steve Martin said in Grand Canyon, "All of life's riddles are answered in the movies."