Dreaming at 24 Frames Per Second

Movies: Hugo

Hugo is Martin Scorsese's love letter to film, and what a joyous, beautiful film it is. Based on Brian Selznick's book, the film follows the titular Hugo Cabret (played by adorable and talented newcomer, Asa Butterfield), an orphan in early 1930's Paris who, after his father dies and alcoholic uncle abandons him, keeps the clocks running in a train station and steals food from the shops at the station. He also steals knick knacks and small pieces of machinery that he uses to repair an automaton (a small robot) that his father found in a museum. The automaton (which is able to write out messages when wound up) is Hugo's last connection to his father and therefore very important and dear to him.



In his attempts to steal small parts to fix the robot, Hugo is caught by an old man (Ben Kingsley) who runs a toy shop in the train station. He takes Hugo's notebook, filled with drawings of the automaton, and makes Hugo clean and repair broken toys for him to earn the notebook back. Hugo makes friends with the man's goddaughter, Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz, aka Hit Girl from Kick Ass), who is also an orphan. The two work together to find out why "Papa George"--Isabelle's godfather--is so obsessed with Hugo's notebook.

Potential spoiler: It turns out that Papa George is actually George Melies, one of the earliest filmmakers and pioneer of the art of filmmaking. Melies, a prolific director in the early 1900's, lived to see his life's work and dreams destroyed during the Great War--a time so lean, that Melies was forced to sell his film reels to factories that melted the film down in order to make shoes.

Hugo and Isabelle dredge up a painful past that Melies has long kept buried (the automaton turns out to be an early invention Melies worked on before giving it to a museum). Of course, once the children convince Papa George that his work is still loved and valued, the old man realizes that he cannot and should not avoid his past, despite the painful memories. At the end of the film, Melies has adopted Hugo and hosts a film festival of his restored classics.

Despite the PG rating and neat and tidy happy ending, Hugo is not just a movie for kids. In fact, the gravity, leisurely pace, and tangents into film history make it more appropriate for cinephile teens and adults. As someone who fell in love with movies at a tender age (I remember watching City Lights and Annie Hall in middle school and never looking back), Hugo really meant something to me. There is a scene where Hugo and Isabelle visit a library and read a book called "The Invention of Dreams" about the early history of cinema. As they flip through the pages, the strains of "Danse Macabre" play to images of Chaplin, Keaton, Lloyd, the Lumiere brothers--all the greats of early 20th century cinema. It's a breathtaking and deeply emotional scene that pays tribute to film as an art form and part of history.

In Hugo, Melies says at the end, "Come dream with me". I suspect that if you read this blog, you are also a movie lover. Hugo will remind you why you fell in love with seeing your dreams come true on the big screen.

4.5 out of 5 stars

I Know It's Over...And It Never Really Began

Movies: Blue Valentine

It must be sad movie week for me. First, Melancholia and now Derek Cianfrance's beautiful and gut-wrenching Blue Valentine.

The central conflict in Blue Valentine is devastating in its simplicity and commonness. Two young people who don't have much in common other than their initial physical attraction get married for the wrong reasons and end up miserable years later. It's a story as old as time and nearly everyone can relate to it: to love is to experience pain. I don't mean to sound like a melodramatic teenager (despite my use of Smiths lyrics as the title of this post), but when we love someone and take that leap into a relationship, we are accepting vulnerability and helplessness. It's a given--it's part of the deal. Vulnerability is what makes love...well, love.


But I digress. Michelle Williams plays Cindy and Ryan Gosling plays Dean. The couple have been married for about 6 years and have a daughter, Frankie. The movie opens at the beginning of the end of their marriage and then cuts back and forth between how they met and fell in love and how it all unravels in the end. In the beginning, the major differences between Cindy and Dean don't matter so much. Cindy is intelligent and ambitious. She is studying medicine. She comes from what appears to be an abusive home and is in a relationship with an abusive jerk. When she meets Dean, he becomes an escape route for her--an attractive, fun guy who clearly worships her. Dean lacks ambition. He never finished high school. His ideal job is one that allows  him to drink beer at work and make enough money to put some food on the table. But Dean loves Cindy the way a puppy loves its master: unconditionally and in a way that puts the two of them on radically different footing. Cindy starts out as a lost girl who is intrigued by Dean's boyish qualities, but she grows into a woman who needs to be with a man. Dean stays a boy and doesn't want anything to change. He just wants to love Cindy and Frankie and do nothing else with his life.

It's this dynamic that makes Blue Valentine so real and so, so sad: neither Dean nor Cindy is the villain here. They both have their flaws--Cindy is unable to communicate effectively; Dean drinks too much, etc. But no one is really the bad guy. The two are just fundamentally different people. So many relationships end not because one person is abusive or adulterous, but because two people just change and grow apart over time.

In an attempt to salvage their flailing marriage, Dean convinces Cindy to spend the night with him what has to be the saddest sex motel ever. They choose the "Future" room, which Dean aptly remarks looks like "a robot's vagina". Dean's plan is for the two of them to "get drunk and make love". Well, the succeed on the "drunk" part. In fact, it's probably the alcohol that ruins the evening. The two get massively blitzed and try to...er..."make love" is definitely not the right phrase. "Screw" is more appropriate. Dean's attempts to pleasure Cindy are met with resistance and disgust. The look of pain and repulsion on Cindy's face while Dean kisses his way down her body says it all. She has no love, lust, like, or respect for this man any more, as much as he keeps trying and trying.

The next day, Cindy leaves for work and doesn't bother to wake Dean up. Dean goes to the doctor's office where Cindy works as a nurse and confronts her. The scene transitions from awkward and cringe-inducing to violent. It culminates with Cindy telling Dean "I am so out of love with you! I have nothing left for you!" Ouch. It's not that Cindy hates Dean--that would indicate passion of some sort. She's just apathetic and exhausted. The marriage isn't dying, it's dead.

Despite the pain of Blue Valentine, I was enthralled by the film. It's a fascinating character study and although it's difficult to watch at times, it's never boring. For a movie with such a simple plot, Blue Valentine feels full and complete. Williams and Gosling are so talented--they fully inhabit their characters, and the viewer is able to forget their outer beauty when they let their characters' inner ugliness shine through.

A quick side note/rant: Blue Valentine was originally given an NC-17 rating before the director appealed to the MPAA and got the rating downgraded to an R. Apparently, the film was given its original rating for an "emotionally charged scene of sexuality". I've seen this movie and there is no way any of the sex scenes warrant an NC-17. You barely see the actors' bodies, since the camera focuses mainly on their faces in extreme close-up. In addition to the sex motel scene, there's a slightly more graphic scene of Dean performing oral sex on Cindy when they first start going out. The characters are fully clothed and the scene lasts about 20 seconds, but I can just see the MPAA counting the head bobs, or moans, or whatever it is on their checklist of "consensual adult pleasure" that offends them so much and slapping the film with an NC-17. I know it's been said before, but when movies like Hostel and The Human Centipede get R ratings and Blue Valentine gets an NC-17 for an "emotional" sex scene and half a minute of fully-clothed oral sex, there's something wrong with our culture and societal values. Or, you know, the values of the MPAA, which are extremely out of touch with reality.

I said that Melancholia was "painful and somewhat worth it". Blue Valentine is painful and completely worth it. It's a small-scale masterpiece. I know that Cindy and Dean aren't real, but at the end of the movie I found myself hoping that they would be able to move on with their lives and find new partners better suited for them. It's the mark of a great movie when the characters feel so real that you continue to think about them and worry for them long after the movie is over.

4.5 out of 5 stars

It's the End of the World as We Know It, And She Doesn't Feel Fine

Movies: Melancholia

Spoilers ahead.

"Divisive" is a good word to describe director Lars von Trier, both in terms of his work and of the man himself. Von Trier has been known to be a difficult man to work with at best, and downright cruel and piggish at worst. Earlier this year, he made a, er, gaffe at Cannes by saying he "understood" Hitler (Google the clip--it's painful to watch). It's no secret that von Trier, as talented as he may be, has some serious issues.

Likewise, von Trier's films are, well, difficult. I've seen a number of them and I always seem to either love them or hate them. While I felt that Breaking the Waves and Dogville were beautiful, amazing films, Dancer in the Dark was like nails on a chalkboard to me. And Manderlay, the sequel to Dogville, was just stupid in my opinion. Melancholia may be the first von Trier film that I didn't hate, but didn't love. It's beautiful, it's intense, and it's extremely difficult to sit through. At times, I was bored to distraction. But by the end of the film, my heart was racing. I still don't know what I really think of this movie.

Melancholia is about two things: depression and the apocalypse (now I know you're dying to see it!). The first half of the film focuses on internal depression. It follows Justine (Kirsten Dunst, in what I think is her greatest performance yet), a young woman on her wedding day. Her sister, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg), and brother-in-law, John (Kiefer Sutherland), are enormously wealthy and the reception is held at their estate. Justine barely makes it through the evening, often sneaking away to walk outside or take a bath in the middle of the festivities. Claire, John, and Justine's brand new hubby, Michael (Alexander Skarsgaard), keep guilt-tripping her about not being happy. When she protests "I keep smiling and smiling..." her sister says "You're lying to all of us." God, with family like this, who needs enemies?

No wonder Justine is exhausted and depressed--I was exhausted and depressed just watching the damn thing unfold. Seriously, the wedding in Melancholia has to be the most awful wedding, in real life or on screen, ever. By the end of the evening, Justine leaves her husband and has sex with another guy on Claire and John's golf course (yes, they have a golf course. These people have more money than God) and then insults her boss and gets fired. You go, girl! It's her wedding and she can act like a crazy person if she wants to!

At the start of the second half of the movie, Justine is so severely depressed, she can no longer bathe herself or eat. She comes to live with Claire and John and just sleeps for 15 hours a day. Anti-depressants, people! They exist for a reason!

But the bigger concern of the second half of Melancholia is a giant planet that has been discovered by scientists. Appropriately named "Melancholia", the experts believe that the planet will pass by Earth harmlessly. Claire, however, is terrified of it. She has reason to be. Although Melancholia does initially pass by Earth, it starts heading back on a collision course. When John discovers this, he quickly takes the coward's way out and commits suicide, leaving his wife and young son behind. Claire is, of course, distraught. Her husband has killed himself, she has a young son she can no longer protect, and not only will she die when Melancholia hits the earth--everything and everyone she ever loved will be destroyed as well. Justine, on the other hand, emerges from her depression and becomes a source of calm and strength for Claire. Now that Justine's depression is externalized in Melancholia, she and Claire have reversed roles. In the last moments, she helps Claire's son, Leo, build a symbolic "magical cave" out of sticks.  Claire, Leo, and Justine sit in the cave as Melancholia gets closer to Earth and eventually destroys it.

Interestingly, watching the earth blow up was easier than watching Justine's travesty of a wedding.

What does it all mean? I think the simplest interpretation is the best--Melancholia is simply about depression and its destructive nature. Because of her depression, Justine destroys her marriage and career in the first half of the film. In the second half, a planet named after depression destroys everything. No one can escape it. Claire and John may be insanely wealthy, but even they can't fight the inevitability of such an enormous disaster. Like the disease of depression, the planet Melancholia is all-consuming.

Melancholia is filled with beautiful images (as well as a lot of gut-churning hand-held camera work) and devastating emotions. Claire's agitation and hysteria near the end of the film really got to me. I didn't enjoy the first half of the movie mainly because I couldn't relate to the characters or the situation at all. I just kept thinking how annoying, mean, and stupid everyone was acting. But I could sympathize with Claire's helpless response in the face of impending doom. If I was in the same situation, I would not be calm like Justine. I would definitely be like Claire--a frantic, trapped animal. So while the emotions I experienced during the second half of Melancholia were not positive, they felt very real and very intense. I don't watch Lars von Trier's movies to feel happy--I watch them to feel a sort of catharsis. And to that end, Melancholia was successful. In terms of cinematography and acting, Melancholia is among von Trier's best work. But it just didn't captivate me and hold on to me the way Breaking the Waves and Dogville did.

3.5 out of 5 stars

The Person on the Inside

Movies: The Skin I Live In

Where to start? Pedro Almodovar's latest film, The Skin I Live In, is somehow both violent and delicate. Almodovar is no stranger to dark themes: AIDS, rape, incest, pedophilia, and pain of all kinds pervade his films, yet they still manage to be lovely and hopeful. His main characters are typically women and vulnerable/nontraditional men (crossdressers, gay men, boys, etc). These characters are pillars of strength even after facing abuse at the hands of "stronger" members of society. I love Almodovar's films because they don't patronize or condescend to women and queer men. Almodovar's characters have dignity and, to use the word again, strength that allow them to overcome and transcend their circumstances, no matter how rough.


The Skin I Live In is yet another beautiful and traumatic Almodovar film. It is not gender-normative, the sexuality of the characters is wildly fluid and even bizarre, and it is about a supposedly weak person who thrives under the thumb of a supposedly strong person.

I can't say much more without giving away a huge plot point of the film, which isn't so much of a surprise twist, but still radically changes your understanding of everything that comes before it. So, if you want to see the movie with a fresh slate, I'll say that it is difficult, but worth seeing (if you're a fan of Almodovar's other films, you'll probably love it, or at least know what to expect). If you're squeamish about violence, be prepared for scenes of rape, torture, and murder (not terribly graphic, but still pretty hard to watch). I can tell you that it's about a plastic surgeon, Robert Ledgard (played by Antonio Banderas) who has been developing a synthetic skin that is indestructible ever since the death of his wife, who was horribly burned in a car accident. Ledgard has a beautiful female captive whom he tests the skin on. The second half of the movie reveals who the woman is and how she came to be Ledgard's prisoner.

Now, if you want to know the twist, read ahead!

So, after the death of Ledgard's wife (who threw herself out a window after seeing her burned face), Ledgard's daughter, Norma, is emotionally destroyed. After she begins to recover and is able to socialize with peers, Ledgard takes her to a party where she meets a handsome young man named Vincente. Norma and Vincente sneak out of the party and start to make out in a nearby garden. Vincente fails to pay attention to Norma's increasing distress and proceeds to rape her until she starts screaming. He flees the scene, and Ledgard finds his daughter in a state of shock. She ends up back in a mental institution, with a crippling fear of men, including her father.

Ledgard finds out Vincente is the one who raped his daughter. He hunts the young man down, knocks him out, and chains his up. After starving him for several weeks, Ledgard drugs Vincente and performs surgery on him--specifically, a vaginoplasty. Vincente is completely broken at this point and just trying to mentally survive. Ledgard, over many months and years, turns Vincente into a woman--Vera--with the use of plastic surgery and drugs.

Vincente copes with his situation by rebelling in small ways (refusing to wear the makeup and female clothes Ledgard gives him) and also through yoga, which allows him to find a place to escape inside himself. Over time, he gains Ledgard's trust and even begins a *gulp* romantic and sexual relationship with him (so much wrong there!), leading the viewer to believe that Vincente has truly fallen in love with his captor, Stockholm Syndrome-style. But at the end, Vincente manages to escape and return to his mother, who doesn't recognize him.

So, for many reasons, this movie is all sorts of screwed up. But despite the violence and twisted plot, I loved it for its message that no matter what you look like on the outside, you are always yourself on the inside. In our culture of body shame, it's sometimes easy to forget that a person is much more than what they look like. I judge people based on their looks all the time (not proud of it)! Learning to look beyond outer appearances is a lifelong process.

In addition, The Skin I Live In suggests that gender identity is all in a person's mind. Some have accused to film of being transphobic, but I think it's the opposite. No matter how feminized he is on the outside, Vincente never stops identifying as a man on the inside. Much like a transgender person, Vincente knows who he is and does not let his outer appearance and the ways others perceive him affect his identity.

The Skin I Live In challenges many assumptions we make about people and the kinds of boxes we automatically put people in. Obviously, it challenges our perspectives on sex and gender--is Vincente still a man, even after his body and mannerism are completely feminized? Is he a man because he was born with male genitalia? Is he a man because he never chose to identify as a woman?

It also challenges our assumptions of sexuality. Both Ledgard and Vincente are straight men. Are they still straight after starting a (again--*gulp*) sexual relationship with one another--even though one of them now has a woman's body?

Finally, it challenges our view of criminality and justice. Vincente rapes Norma. At first, the situation is ambiguous--Norma appears to be into Vincente. But quickly enough we realize that she is terrified and not consenting, yet Vincente continues to have sex with her. Even though he does not throw her down and violently assault her, he still rapes her. Normally, that would make us hate Vincente, yet his punishment hardly fits the crime. We sympathize with him for the rest of the movie, as he faces unspeakable physical and psychological abuse at Norma's father's hands. Ledgard, on the other hand, is the true villain. He may have lost his wife and daughter, but his insane form of revenge makes it impossible to sympathize with him. However, there are a few moments where he seems to genuinely love Vincente/Vera. It's almost like reverse Stockholm Syndrome--the captor falls in love with his captive.

Writing this review makes me feel a little guilty for liking The Skin I Live In. When I see the plot laid out in writing, it seems that only a messed up person could enjoy this film. But watching Almodovar's films reminds me of reading John Irving's novels--specifically, The Cider House Rules. In that book, Irving manages to write about incest, rape, and abortion with what I can only describe as a "cozy" writing style. He managed to take the reader to dark corners while never making the reader feel alienated or frightened. Almodovar's films are similar--his themes are melodramatic and, at times, pitch black. But unlike other directors who cover similar themes (Todd Solondz and Lars von Trier come to mind), I don't come away from Almodovar's films hating humanity. Almodovar uses dark themes to uncover the deepest, most genuine emotions. When Vincente, now in a woman's body, kisses a picture of himself--his old self; his true self--he sees in a "missing persons" section of a newspaper, it is a classic Almodovar moment: it brings up feelings of love, heartache, and empathy in the viewer. Or at least it did in me.

5 out of 5 stars

PS: The Skin I Live In is based on an excellent novella, Mygale, by French author Thierry Jonquet. I read the book years ago, so I already knew the big "twist" in the movie. I highly recommend checking out the book.

Cancer Sucks

Movies: 50/50

50/50 is not your typical cancer movie. Unlike Terms of Endearment, Stepmom, and One True Thing, 50/50 treats cancer with a sense of humor and nonchalance bordering on apathy. Of course, while the aforementioned films focus on middle-aged women with cancer, 50/50's hero is a 27-year-old man, played a little too adorably by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Written by Will Reiser, who was diagnosed with cancer in his mid-twenties (and is now in his 30's), the film can't be accused of being unrealistic. However, it's surprisingly thin on comedy, drama, and character development. A movie in which a young dude is given a 50/50 chance of beating a disease has enormous potential--to be heartbreaking, enraging, hilarious, something. Yet, as much as I chuckled during the movie, I never really thought it lived up to its potential.

Gordon-Levitt plays Adam, a young man who works in radio (at "SPR"--heh). Adam goes in for a check-up since his back has been hurting him and finds out he has a rare type of cancer on his spine. As he begins the process of chemotherapy, his god-awful girlfriend, Rachel (Bryce Dallas Howard, who seems to be type-cast as a bitch these days), attempts to "compartmentalize" his illness by refusing to support him or accept reality. She cheats on him and, when confronted by pictorial evidence, attempts to emotionally blackmail Adam into not dumping her. Ugh. Do people this stupid and terrible actually exist? Sadly, I think the answer may be yes. In any case, with the support of his friend Kyle (Seth "the Bro-gen" Rogen), Adam dumps Rachel and sets out on a revitalizing course of smoking medicinal marijuana and using his bald head to pick up chicks.

By the end of the film, Adam has beaten cancer (at least for now) through surgery, since the chemo didn't work, reconnected with his meddling mother (Angelica Huston), and scored a new girlfriend: his young counselor, Katie (Anna Kendrick). After he's no longer her patient of course. Still, I think that's kind of unethical. Whatever. All's fair in love and cancer!

That's pretty much it. Laughs are mainly provided by Kyle in typical Seth Rogen style. There are a few heartwarming scenes. But overall, the film is bizarrely underwhelming. If I recall correctly, you don't really see the damage cancer can do to the human body. Adam shaves his head, so you don't see him lose his hair. I don't recall any vomiting scenes (although there may have been one). Even after Adam's surgery, which is described as very invasive, he seems totally fine. It's not that I take joy in seeing illness, but 50/50 seemed to completely skip over the realities of cancer that would have made the movie interesting in the first place: i.e. how does an attractive young man, who is mostly concerned with his budding career, women, and friends (all the typical things guys in their 20's are focused on), deal with the indignities of illness? For Adam, the indignities are few and the story never delves too deeply into the complicated emotions surrounding a sickness that would cause almost anyone to have an existential crisis. I didn't want melodrama, but I did want an honest look at how cancer would bodily, emotionally, and spiritually affect a guy in his 20's. Instead, I got marijuana jokes.

50/50 is not an unpleasant film. It's funny and cute--and I get the importance of there being movies about cancer that aren't all Lifetime movie three-hankie weepers. I admire what 50/50 was aiming for, but I felt that it fell short of the mark.

3 out of 5 stars

Vampire-Baby Mama Drama

Movies: Breaking Dawn pt. 1

Spoilers everywhere.

I might have left the theatre looking as guilty as a guy in a trench coat leaving a porno movie because, God help me, I enjoyed Breaking Dawn. Or, more accurately, I enjoyed the second half of Breaking Dawn. The first half is mostly concerned with whether or not Bella and Edward will have sex on their honeymoon (spoiler alert: they totally do!). But in the second half, things get crazy. Vampire-baby crazy.


The film begins with Edward and Bella's wedding. For some reason, this takes up about 30 minutes of the movie. The best part is Charlie Swan (Bella's dad) looking skeptical about the whole thing and pounding back champagne at the reception. Also, Jacob (Bella's werewolf friend) shows up to dance with Bella and then yell at her when he finds out she's planning on having sex with Edward while she's still human. Since Edward's super-strength allows him to crush diamonds as if they were rose petals, God only knows what he'll do to a human woman while in the throes of passion. Don't worry, Jake--the Twilight books have established that Edward is a 110-year-old virgin, so the consummation will probably only last a minute or two. Wocka wocka!

About the sex: because this is a PG-13 movie, they only show some softly lit kissing and Edward breaking the headboard. Hey, maybe the movie should have been titled "Breaking Headboard". Or, "Breaking Hymen: A Chaste Supernatural Love Story". Anyway, because we're in movieland, the wedding night defloration of two virgins is beautiful, not messy or awkward, and later described as "amazing" and "the best night of my existence". Thanks for setting the bar unreasonably high for all the tweens in the audience, movie!

The next day, Bella has like, three bruises on her arm and Edward emotionally abuses her by getting mad at himself and then mad at her for not being mad at him. Healthy relationship! Edward then denies Bella sex for the rest of the honeymoon because he is a meanie. They play chess instead.

At this point, we're an hour into the movie. I've had about all I can take of romantic indie rock and kowtowing to the Wedding-Industrial Complex. But then the movie takes a turn for the awesome: Bella realizes her period is a week late and that *gasp* her belly is puffy and there's something moving inside it! Edward looks horrified. He tells Bella that his doctor-vampire-father, Carlisle, will "Get that thing out of you". But Bella has already fallen in love with the fetus! I'm sorry, the baby! Heavy-handed anti-abortion message ahead!

They return to the Cullen's home in the woods, where Bella grows paler and more skeletal by the day. Everyone is against her having the baby except Bella herself and baby-obsessed vampire sister-in-law Rosalie. Rosalie doesn't give a crap whether Bella dies, but dammit, she will have something to care for and nurture! I guess Rosalie's maternal instinct didn't die when she did.

Meanwhile, Jacob and his pack of werewolves find out about the vampire-baby fetus and Sam, the alpha wolf, decides they have to kill it before it becomes an uncontrollable threat to their territory. All the wolves must submit to the alpha, except for Jacob because Stephenie Meyers says so Jacob is the grandson of the chief and has magical not-submitting powers.

Jacob vows to protect Bella, and he and the rest of the Cullens surround Bella and feed her delicious blood until the baby comes. When it does, Dr. Cullen is out feeding, so Edward has to deliver the baby. He does this by biting into Bella's uterus and tearing the baby out. It's a girl and Bella names her "Renesme", a mix of Bella and Edward's mothers' names. Bella then dies. Edward injects venom into her to "turn" her and then bites her all over. Jacob goes to kill Renesme, but ends up "imprinting" on her and falling insanely in love. Remember kids, this is Twilight world, where love just magically happens and isn't based on a history of shared experiences, respect, and trust, or anything like that. Silly!

Conveniently, the wolf pack can't kill Renesme now because their "most absolute rule" is that you can't kill someone that a fellow wolf has imprinted on.

So then comes the big reveal. Bella has been lying there like a corpse for days, but when the vampire venom starts working its magic, she transforms from a skeletal pasty-face to a big-boobed pasty-face! I'm serious. You actually see her boobs puff up. And apparently vampire venom gives you eyeshadow that is perfect for your skin tone and hair color...for eternity! In the last scene, Bella opens her eyes, and they are blood-red. END OF MOVIE!

Overall, it was pretty awesome. I still think Bella should have gone for Jacob because he's a lot more attractive and a lot less emotionally manipulative than Edward. He's a man who'll give it to you straight. Edward is the kind of man-boy who sulks and makes you guess why he's upset. Basically, he is a 17-year-old boy for eternity.

But of course, Bella marries Edward. In other news, Harry Potter defeats Voldemort and Anna Karenina throws herself under a train. Some endings are inevitable. For what it's worth, Breaking Dawn isn't a terrible film. If you think I'm damning it with faint praise, you clearly haven't seen the other Twilight movies. The first one is a truly awful film. The second one is pretty good because Jacob is the hero (and Edward almost kills himself! Alas, Bella saves him at the last second), and I can't remember what happened in the third one. So, by comparison, Breaking Dawn is...not as bad as it could have been. But I wouldn't buy the DVD or anything.

3 out of 5 stars

This doesn't happen in the movie. Sorry.

Cult Status

Movies: Martha Marcy May Marlene

Potential spoilers.

Martha Marcy May Marlene (hereafter referred to as MMMM) is not a good movie if you like solid answers and conclusions. We see glimpses into the past and the psyche of the main character, but we never know for sure what's really going on. Like Black Swan, MMMM blurs the line between reality and what's happening in the heroine's mind. Unlike Black Swan, MMMM is subtle, slowly paced, and gripping in a way that twists your guts rather than slapping you in the face.



MMMM is about a young woman (Elizabeth Olsen, a radiant and talented newcomer to film) who, in the opening scenes, runs away from what appears to be a family-like cult. The word "cult" is never uttered in the film, but it's clear enough that this group of people who live together on a farm in upstate New York are not part of an egalitarian commune. They are drawn in and manipulated in a variety of ways by Patrick (John Hawkes), the leader of this group/cult/family. It's easy to see how the women and men find themselves under Patrick's thumb--he's older than most of them and speaks with an authority that seems wise and seductive to the college-age members of the cult. The members of the cult also keep the other ones in line. When they step out of line, they aren't punished brutally (although the threat of violence hangs in the air), but rather approached with concern and gentle chiding: "Why did you run away to town? Patrick's worried about you." Through this gentle but consistent brain-washing, the heroine (known as Martha to her biological family and Marcy May to her cult family) loses herself to the cult for two years before she finds the courage to run away.

MMMM juxtaposes "before" and "after" scenes. The before scenes take place on the farm where the cult lives and reveal the weird rules and sexual violence Martha was subjected to. The after scenes take place at a lake house in Connecticut where Martha's sister, Lucy, and Lucy's husband, Ted, live. Lucy is the only family Martha has (mom is dead and dad's out of the picture) and is woefully unprepared to care for Martha who is clearly suffering from some sort of PTSD. Instead of letting Martha open up about her missing years when she's ready, Lucy repeatedly asks Martha "what happened to you?" in a tone that causes Martha to clam up. Lucy and Ted respond with frustration to Martha's inappropriate and strange ways--crawling into bed with them while they're having sex, asking inappropriate questions, etc. In one very telling scene, Martha freaks out at a party and becomes hysterical. Lucy and Ted respond to this breakdown by immediately giving Martha a valium and putting her to bed. To them, saving face at a party is more important than addressing Martha's obvious trauma and mental distress head on.

It was odd to me how Lucy dealt with her sister's disappearance and sudden reappearance. If my sister fell off the face of the earth only to reappear two years lately in filthy clothes, crying and acting strangely, damn if I wouldn't assume that she had been abused or traumatized in some bizarre way, even if she denied it. But Martha and Lucy are presented as having grown up with a dead mother and absent father, so I can see how that would affect their ability to relate and care for one another. Lucy treats Martha as if she's a cross between a distant relative that you have to be polite to and a wild animal who you're a little scared will attack you. There is no sisterly love between the two beyond the guilt Lucy feels: "I'm the only family she has" Lucy explains to Ted. To Lucy, Martha's return is more of a burden than a joy or a relief

As I said above, MMMM is a film that raises more questions than answers them. The last 20 minutes or so are especially challenging because there is little distinction between Martha's memories, fears, and reality. Is she being hunted by the cult? Is she having hallucinations? It's up to the viewer to decide. MMMM is an interesting film because it touches on the problem of mental illness and the effects of brain-washing, rape, and abuse, without directly making a statement about any of it. And although Martha comes off as increasingly disturbed and, yes, a tad crazy, our sympathies lie with her rather than with her sister and brother-in-law, who despite their concern, are more interested in not having their comfortable lifestyle interrupted than in trying to understand what happened to Martha.

Martha proves that she is a young woman of immense courage and strength, even after years of manipulation and abuse. But despite her survival instinct, she can't escape paranoia and haunted memories.

4 out of 5 stars