Amalgam

Love Actually

If you enjoy romantic comedies, it's hard to imagine that you won't enjoy this one. If you're an Anglophile, it's even harder: Hugh Grant, Emma Thompson, Alan Rickman, Colin Firth, and Liam Neeson take turns on screen throughout the movie. So if you're just looking for a pick-me-up, or a romantic movie night, search no more. Here it is.

With that said, Richard Curtis goes a bit overboard here--and the DVD extras reveal that he wanted to go even further. The movie juggles at least eight subplots; is it any wonder Curtis had a hard time cutting it down to two hours and 15 minutes? A few subplots are clearly meant as comic relief of a sort; I particularly liked the couple that met while working as body doubles for a movie, an occupation that required them to spend long periods of time simulating all manner of sex acts with one another; when they finally fall for one another (this gives away nothing in this movie, by the way--the plots are pretty much telegraphed to the audience in the first ten minutes) they experience awkwardness just kissing. It's a sly commentary on culture and a funny moment at the same time.

Other subplots are sadder; Liam Neeson's wife dies at the start of the film, and he deals with his own grief and that of his stepson mostly on his own. And while it's clear that Alan Rickman will eventually succumb to the temptation of his secretary--even Emma Thompson, who plays his wife, warns him about her--it isn't clear until the end that he'll do so in a way that raises and then devastates his wife.

Which brings us to the primary fault with the film: the ending. There are a great many happy moments, including the wrap of the Colin Firth subplot (another one that starts out sadly), but there are also many loose ends left untied. After witnessing the devastation of Emma Thompson, we get a 15-second outro from her subplot that tells us nothing about how she and Alan Rickman dealt with his infidelity. A subplot involving Keira Knightley wraps clumsily, with Curtis asking us to accept that one kiss from a married woman can quell an obsession and make everything right. The whole thing races to close within the allotted time, as if Curtis is fearful his audience will have to leave for the bathroom if he lingers any longer.

This should have been a high-profile mini-series. Really. There's nothing about it that demands the movie theatre screen, and Curtis clearly had enough plot to fill six or seven hours if he tried. The footage he left out and shows on the DVD would have made for a better movie, and the loose ends he leaves could have been wrapped up more effectively given more time.

Alas, that's not what happened. Don't get me wrong: you'll enjoy this movie. The airport scenes at the start and end of the movie, showing ordinary people embracing their loved ones as they arrive at the gate, will make you smile at the beginning and probably prolong your happy tears at the end. But when you stop to think about it afterward, you'll wish you could have stayed with these characters longer and known more about them. Curtis could have given you that, too.

Surreal

Elephant (2003)

Not many people saw this movie in theatres, which is probably a shame; I think the mood of the film would be enhanced by being trapped in your seat the entire time. Gus Van Sant takes advantage of the fact that you already know what his movie is about: a high school shooting. He uses your knowledge to his advantage by playing on the tension you inevitably feel as you wonder, "Will it happen now? Now? Now?" Framing his shots to limit your view, he lets you wonder, all through the movie, what is going on just outside the frame--and eventually forces you to think about how, if many of the kids you're watching would do the same and think about things outside of their own small worlds, the tragic end of the movie might never arrive. But the movie doesn't offer solutions nearly as neat and tidy as that; it simply allows a day to unfold before your eyes, lets you see the world as it's experienced by both the killers and their victims, and shows both how hard it is to see the signs that someone is capable of such a massacre and how easy it might be if people would only pay attention.

And then there's the kiss, which has caused Van Sant no small amount of frustration. Without ruining the tension for those of you who choose to give 80 minutes to this movie, I can tell you that at one point the two killers, about to head for school to act out their plan, get in the shower together--or does one ambush the other? I'm really not sure if the first occupant of the shower knows the second will join him; I don't think we're meant to think that this has happened before. But he walks in, joins his only friend, and says, "Today's the day we're going to die...I never even kissed anyone, did you?" Then the two friends, alienated by the rest of the world, are kissing; the shot lingers long enough to make it clear this is more than a quick kiss goodbye--more like an extended, naked make-out session in the shower.

And then it's over, and the rest of the movie unfolds, including one event, which I'd love to discuss with anyone who sees it, that made me reinterpret the whole friendship between the two killers and their individual reactions to what happens in the shower.

I've made this movie sound like it's filled with action, which isn't fair to those who might consider watching it; much of the 80-minute length of the film is ordinary stuff, like walking down long hallways and playing football and developing film and playing the piano, and much of this plays out without dialogue. I was proud of myself at the end for not speeding up the movie to get down those hallways or get that film developed and clipped; the slight boredom I felt gave my dread an opportunity to build. In the end, this is not an easy film; it won't tell you what you should think about it, and you may not be able to decide on your own what to think, either. I know I haven't. But I'm thinking about it, and that's got to count for something.