REVIEW: FISH TANK

Grand Readership,

I must admit I was quite excited to see FISH TANK... it had been some time since I’d given patronage to the IFC theater (despite my accolades for it in my NYC VENUE review (here) I don’t get there nearly as often as I’d like) and it’d also been some time since I reviewed a picture outside the Hollywood studio system.  FISH TANK (by director ANDREA ARNOLD - who's first picture, RED ROAD, I'm told is outstanding) not only does not disappoint, but is surprising and delightful: a skillfully told story, a true drama and an even (at times) disturbing portraiture of a girl coming into her own.

MIA is 15.  She lives with her mom (who, if she has a job – we’re not told about it) and younger sister, TYLER.  There’s no father… there’s no money – in fact there’s little of anything but spite.  It’s a decidedly poor neighborhood, Mia lives in a tenement building – her mother, when she isn’t drunk, is at best verbally abusive and at worst irresponsibly neglectful.  The conditions of Mia’s life are both shocking and upsetting, but they never overwhelm her, nor seem to overtly inform her behavior.  Instead, Mia simply wants grow up and like any teenage girl who feels stuck... she feels the world is against her in this.  It’s summer time and her days are filled with practicing dance, roaming around, fighting with peers and getting into mischief with boys... and while on the surface this may appear carefree - we quickly learn it's anything but.

There’s a refreshing simplicity about the story Arnold tells coupled with a frankness... Mia's life isn't pretty and Arnold isn't shy about sharing this.  First and foremost, however, FISH TANK Mia’s story – and it is never anyone else’s.  When Mia is introduced to her mother’s latest boyfriend, CONNOR, (played exceptionally by MICHAEL FASSBENDER - who some may recognize from his also exceptional appearance in INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS) there’s an obvious tension between the two.  And while the relationship grows in tension and immediacy throughout the film the camera never lingers on the boyfriend.  We’re never bothered with his emotional state beyond the interactions he has with Mia.  In fact, we are always with Mia – when we see her little sister smoke cigarettes and drink beers with a friend, it’s because Mia is there to show us.  What little we learn of Mia’s mother’s friends, we learn as Mia spies on them.  The arguments Mia has with her friends remain unexplained and why shouldn’t they?  What do 15 year-old girls really argue about anyway?

FISH TANK succeeds as much for what is in the picture as what is left out of it.  We don’t need to know why Mia bickers with her peers to understand to her angst.  We don’t need to know what her mom does all day to understand the type of role model she is for her girls.  Essentially – we don’t need to know anything about anyone, except for Mia.  I cannot stress enough how nice it is not to be hammered with storylines.  Instead of being dealt several poorly handled storylines (as it seems is the ever-increasing norm in today’s pictures) FISH TANK actually delivers on a single one.  Considering how singular our focus is on MIA - its almost startling how much we learn and feel about the supporting players - which we must immediately attribute to Arnold's sophisticated choice in dialogue and scene.

Speaking of sophistication, the film itself is stunning to look at.  I saw a 35mm print and noticed immediately that it was a 1.33:1 frame – quite unusual in a day in age where 16:9 is standard even for television and 2:35:1 is the now-traditional cinema aspect.  The cinematographer, Robbie Ryan, has delivered each shot as if it were plucked from a tree of brilliant Polaroids.   We’re treated to flares of morning sun, the contrast of high noon summers, the magic of glowing, late-summer evenings and that warm summer night we all can’t describe but know when we see it.  The smaller, square frame always keeps us proximate to Mia while the film grain and dirt specs (evident throughout the picture) recollect the imperfections of life. 

I suppose that’s the best way to sum up FISH TANK – its near masterpiece as a picture is in how perfectly it brings the imperfect to life.  There’s nothing unnatural about Mia’s curiosity and sexual turmoil – but that it’s happening in concert with Connor giving her attention is unsettling.  There’s an inevitable sadness about Mia’s lot in life, but there’s also a beauty in how she moves throughout it.  Amplified in parts by the photography, in parts by the performances but always by its direction – FISH TANK is bubbling with tears and laughter and… well, life.  Make a point to see in theaters if you can – otherwise, be sure to check on home-release.

REVIEW: BOOK OF ELI

Well folks, COMEDY N CHAOS has done it again - beating me to the next review.  Behold: his words of wisdom (or warning?) for BOOK OF ELI... along with some other most valuable anecdotes!

Movies like this always make me want to eat with my hands.  I’m not talking about finger foods, where you’re supposed to eat with your hands.  I’m talking about cooking a chicken whole and pulling it to pieces with your fingers.  Maybe letting out a grunt or two along the way.  And eating a side of potatoes with your hands too. 

That’s about the most I got out of this movie.  Was it awesome?  No.  It was actually pretty bad.  But it was the kind of pretty bad I wanted.   That 13-year-old kid in me still likes a Van Dam movie kind of bad.  My girlfriend would have walked out of it.  But it pleased me on some adolescent level. 

Also, it was about 8 degrees on Saturday when I saw it.  I cleaned my apartment and had nothing to do for a few hours.  The movie had caught my eye initially, Denzel is always good, and Gary Oldman is in it.  So those are two positives.  And you ‘ve got the end of the world, and The Book, which makes it some kind of religious movie.  So that’s cool.  And Denzel is walking around slicing people’s heads off.  And Mila Kunis is a babe, even when it looks like she hasn’t showered in years.  And yes, I’m defending it, because on so many levels it needs defending.

The Savagery of the movie was there.  But if you want to be depressed, this wasn’t the movie for that either.  It wasn’t High Art, by any means.  But I liked it. If for only one reason:  This OCD woman at work hounds me on this long running project.  All day long.  35 emails a day—just thoughts—not like email used to be where it was and emailable letter with a beginning, middle and end.  Email has now turned into a Twitter feed.  So I get nonstop thoughts from this woman.  She’s not my boss, but I have to read her emails.  So it gets annoying as all hell.  Well, she loves cats.  She has two, and usually has a 3^rd and 4^th around the apartment from rescue shelters that she “adopts.”  She’s 40, no kids, no man in her life.  Just these cats.  She has a blog about these cats.  About all things cat.  Give her a lull in the conversation and it turns to cats.  So at the beginning of the movie, the opening shot has a cat in it.  It’s in the woods, It’s snowing.  Camera pans left, pans over a dead body.  The cat approached the dead body. A toe is exposed.  The cat hunkers in for a meal. And cut to Old Eli, poised just ten yards from the body.  Bow and Arrow poised, ready for the kill.  Release, thwack, meow.  And the cat is over an open flame, roasting away.  Eli’s nibbling at it, and a mouse pops out and he even gives the mouse some cat!  I laughed out loud.

I think that about sums it up.  Childish revenge.  Release from reality.  A shitty ending.  Man, it was pretty bad.  But you can see it for yourself when you’re feeling that youngster within pull at you for some ass kicking.  And then come home and eat dinner with your hands.  See what your girl thinks of that.  Reach out and take some of that salad and munch on it with your fingers.  It’s cold as hell outside, it might heat things up a bit.  Nothing wrong with a little Holy Hell stirred up on cold Saturday night in January, over a bottle of wine.  With the Apocalypse just around the corner, better enjoy it before it’s gone.