Oliver Schmitz: Meandering Melodrama (Life, Above All)

Khomotso Manyaka, Life, Above All, Sony Pictures Classics

One key virtue of the equal distribution of the melodrama is that it has no borders. The weepie can be from Golden Era Hollywood, 1980s China or modern South Africa. What entwines them as a genre is their reliance on classical theatrical methods of character and narrative development, as well as the universality of human emotion. Their success depends upon the hand which shapes them into a cohesive cinematic whole.

McCarey, Ozu, Sirk, and Fassbinder all mastered the dual devices of the form, while directors such as Seaton, Kramer, Columbus and Perry have struggled with coalescing the fragments. While the latter directors have crafted some interesting films and the sporadic great one, their are debatable as members of the master pantheon, to say the least.

Oliver Schmitz falls more into the second group, although there are moments of clarity and power in his film Life, Above All. Set in a South African village, he traces the coming of age of brave little Chanda (Khomotso Manyaka) as she holds her fractured family together in the midst of disease, alcoholism, village strife and death. Manyaka's performance is revelatory as she fearlessly inhabits the fragility and courage of this young woman. The remaining cast members are the tops as well.

A good choice on Schmitz's part is to steep his film in a cutting realism, steeped in the bleached out colors of Bernhard Jasper's piercing cinematography. Yet he fails to mold the work in any encapsulating manner, which I understand is partially the point. The film just is. Only the plot is too been there, the execution too threadbare to be transformative as it could have been. He does say a lot about less developed countries, children and families. We've just heard it all before.

Let's say that there are many elements which make the film here worth existing, yet a whole they do not make. Schmitz  has promise, but this meandering third world melodrama cannot be his fulfillment. George Seaton began with the tepid Betty Grable vehicle, Diamond Horseshoe, and Tyler Perry began with the mixed bag Madea's Family Reunion. Here's looking to his future as a hands on gritty melodrama meister.

Stephen Anderson and Don Hall: Sonorous Storybook (Winnie the Pooh)

Winnie the Pooh, Walt Disney Pictures, 2011

The American animated film has been in a sad decline the past decade as hand drawn preciousness demoted into computer generated banality. The days of classic Disney and later Don Bluth are long gone, replaced like anything by a more efficient way to produce. Occasionally we are blessed with Up!, Coraline, Legend of the Guardians or Rango, only when CGI is combined with all the elements which a good film make: great writing and direction, namely. Creativity and a spark of originality.

Yet nothing can compare to the magic of classic Disney. Those films took fairy tales and classic children's lit and transformed them into moving art, a sheer magic which became All-American in its intrinsic emphasis on our craving for cinematic spectacle forged with timeless themes and emotions.

A.A. Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh smote generations of kids across the globe, with its storybook smile upon childhood and imagination. How much has Pooh meant to so many children, starry eyed with the promise of their hearts and minds? The Disney shorts in the 60s spawned some of the corporation's most beloved characters, a merchandising mecca unparalleled in its grandiosity.

So it comes with great anticipation and delight that the first true Pooh feature, based on Walt Disney's original versions of Milne and illustrator Shepard's creations, has come to fruition, and at a perfect time, when children of the cineplexes are drowning in the bombast of flash and 3-D without soul. The simplicity of Pooh and friends, Christopher Robin and the Hundred Acre Wood comes like a breath of fresh air.

The gossamer treasure of this new hand drawn, 2-D picture is deceptive in its delicacy. Winnie the Pooh calls to the child in all of us, the human in all of us, to remember the wonderful years when we looked through clear eyes and understood that its all around us. Disney's new moving storybook is beautiful, nostalgic and narratively adventurous, resounding deep within the child in our eyes.

David Yates: Ending to a Fantasy Era (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, Daniel Radcliffe, Warner Bros Pictures, 2011

J.K. Rowling's ambitious, deceptively simple literary bonanza Harry Potter has been a phenomenon unlike any this world has seen. Not the Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew or even Twilight can hold a candle to the ways she has stirred up the child in all of us, the craving for magic and drama and a good classic story. Many imitators have come out of the woodworks, but that is all nil in the shadow of Hogwarts.

A decade ago, undervalued studio maven Chris Columbus helmed the first two films in the series, enchantingly old fashioned kids flicks. The third picture, Prisoner of Azkaban, saw master Alfonso Cuaron tapped into the dark teen angst of the plotline, drawing out the themes in the rich visuals of his ingenious adaptation, the best in the series. Each succeeding film saw the f/x and misadventure spiraling upwards, culminating in this climax of a capper to the most popular film franchise of all time.

Deathly Hallows Part 1 set up the storyline, a reckoning of debts, a tying up of loose ends, an end all to end all. With Part 2, we have an apocalyptic rush of sheer pop cinema delight, which washes over you in ash olympia hues, as Harry finally battles Voldemort to the very death. Director David Yates, who capably handled the last few installments, earns merit as it becomes apparent that in the last film he has truly mastered Rowling's universe. As we watch the movie, we realize just how transformative and vital this series has been to the youth culture of the modern world. We've watched Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson grow into their characters, Harry, Ron and Hermione, and it has been a revelation of the casting process and the organic acting contraption.

It also becomes apparent that like all great storytelling, and fantasy in particular, Potter is rooted in Christian symbolism. As Lewis' Narnia in the literary realm and Lucas' Star Wars in the cinematic, Rowling's iconic tales embody the faith and devotion of generations, transfiguring them into a fantastic world of her own reckoning. This has made for a powerfully enduring phenomenon.

Eduardo Serra's cinematography beautifully imbues the armageddon days of Hogwarts, Alexandre Desplat's music score is alternately epic and ethereal. Daniel Radcliffe is especially revelatory, his turn is incendiary as he nears the end of his Harry life, bringing the fascinating character full circle. Out of an eye opening cast, which brings back all of the characters from the seven part series, Alan Rickman as Snape and Ralph Fiennes as Voldemort are both excellent, bringing a tenderness to their "villainous" roles.

The film took me a bit to get into, but once it had me, I was entranced. The visual effects and set pieces are marvelously immersive, sucking us into the magic without the threat of a third dimension. Yates, Rowling and company unfurl a majestic and bittersweet ending to a fantasy era, and the world will never be the same again.

Seth Gordon: Weakness in the Workplace (Horrible Bosses)

Charlie Day, Jasons Sudeikis and Bateman, Horrible Bosses, New Line Cinema 2011.

American comedy has sadly become victim to a collusion of pandering studios, gross out humor and low audience expectation. Comedy that doesn't insult viewer intelligence is left to Woody Allen and the Farrelly Brothers. At least the Farrellys have enough wit to use scatology in context, not just as a cop out. Everybody wants another Hangover, simplistic idiocy which may have a few chuckles, but nothing you'll take to your grave.

And so the Summer trajectory of huge wastes of time and money persists with Seth Gordon's Horrible Bosses, a mostly akward and unfunny movie which could have been something great. A promising idea is wasted with a mediocre script and lackluster direction, which is a shame because the cast is so ready to cut loose in a naughty un-P.C. flick. It all comes down to the captain of the ship: Gordon previously helmed the dismal rom-com Four Christmases, and here drags it all together D.O.A. He should take lessons from Jake Kasdan, who with The T.V. Set and Bad Teacher, is showing the youngsters how to shape an intelligent, edgy satire within bureaucratic constraints.

Recent comedy stalwarts Jasons Bateman and Sudeikis are joined by t.v. comedic actor Charlie Day as three schlubs we don't give a crap about who want to off their bosses: a wicked Kevin Spacey, delicious Jennifer Aniston and over the top, akward Colin Farrell. In between are a few laughs, but the overall effect is boredom. Nothing is pulling us in, making us care then laugh.

What we take away is Spacey hamming it up and stealing the film, making us realize how much we miss him, and Jamie Foxx having more fun than anyone in an extended cameo. Aniston looks great, has her usual charm but plays such a one dimensional and offensive misogynist wish fulfillment stereotype that it makes one cringe.

There will undoubtedly be many more shitty comedies before the season is over, but do yourself a favor and see Tom Hanks' Larry Crowne or Chris Weitz's A Better Life, two imperfect but sublime films which are better than anything else at your local cineplex.

Chris Weitz: New American Realism (A Better Life)

Demian Bichir, Jose Julian, A Better Life,Summit Entertainment.

For every writer and director with vacant dreams of creating a resonant work which speaks to man and country, Chris Weitz and Eric Eason have effortlessly engendered one of the most important pictures of the year. A Better Life not only empowers a majority mainly excluded from portrayal in the cineplexes, but both criticizes and loves our country in all its spiralling complexity. They do what great filmmakers do best, namely lay bare the truth through the kino eye.

A Better Life contains the rhythms, cadences and calamities of life in the inner city of Los Angeles, its noises and colors, as seen through the eyes of two men, a hardworking, good hearted illegal and his teenage son, struggling against the grain of poverty and crime in their neighborhood. So simply is this tale told and so powerfully in each aspect, that a few missteps are taken in stride. The overall impact is shattering.

Weitz, one half of the Brothers behind American Pie and American Dreamz, has forged out on his own and his voice is clear, his eye cutting. After the entertaining fantasy epic The Golden Compass and the deadly dull New Moon, he has hit his mark and we realize we are in the hands of a great storyteller, possibly a future master. He is not only a versatile visionary, but his passions and themes become crystalline within. As in his best work, the affecting About a Boy, Weitz speaks to us of family, alienation, socialization, fathers and sons.

The two lead actors are inseparable from the fluid power of the picture. Demian Bichir rises from the ranks of character actor in Steven Soderbergh's Che to lead status with his wrenching, beautifully calibrated turn as the father. The emotion in his weather beaten face betrays a diamond soul. Jose Julian is fresh and deeply felt as his torn son. Together, their chemistry is a force to be felt. They are the heart of the film, we can see their hearts on their sleeves, in their very faces. This is the most natural, realistic, the best acting of the year.

Javier Aguirresarobe's lens follows their trek through the city, steeped in the shades of the day and the color of the night, as we wonder at Weitz's effortless glide from docudrama to melodrama to suspense film. The main influence is Vittorio De Sica's Neo-realist tale of fatherhood and loss, Bicycle Thieves. But more so than this, his influence is the cultural climate of our country, of wretched immigration policies. Alexandre Desplat's sublime score accompanies these men on their journey, lilting while cleverly incorporating pieces from the ethnic milieu.

This all is bound together by Weitz's strong hand, firm and unshakable. He has birthed his greatest film, one of the most vital pieces of celluloid audiences must, but most likely won't, see. He lifts us up on high while our feet remain on the theater floor.

Tom Hanks: Simple Man (Larry Crowne)

Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, Larry Crowne, Universal Pictures 2011.

Too few pictures these days concentrate on the mediocrity and joys of regular, everyday life. Brit kitchen sink master Mike Leigh is in a splendid minority of craftsmen who catch the breeze we all recognize and overlook each and every day. Audiences are hooked on the high octane of empty flicks to wash away their problems for a couple hours, not to reflect on the wonders of our world.

Tom Hanks has claimed his place in hearts and minds of the last twenty odd years as the everyman, the Jimmy Stewart of the post-industrial age. His ability to uncannily connect us with what it is to be an American, in all its sincerity and splendor, is unrivaled. Demme, Zemeckis and Spielberg all utilized him in partnerships recalling the amazing auteur-thesp duos of the golden era. They taught Hanks a lot, as evidenced by his sweet, nostalgic debut That Thing You Do, and even more so his beaut of a sophomore pic, the wonderful Larry Crowne.

What we have here is a deceptively simple comedy-drama, replete with all the "normalcy" of real life as filtered through the glow of "reel life". Hanks has a light touch, savoring his characters in this sweet world, and his script with Nia Vardalos(the best work she's ever done) is effervescent. The plot is almost incidental as the title character loses his job at a corporate chain and decides to go to community college. The people and connections he makes there are the meat of a film which brilliantly dissolves substance into style.

Hanks, looking tired and worn, gleans the soul of a good man with the grace that makes him one of the greatest of American movie stars. We never learn much about Larry's past, but then the film is about living in the moment, taking the time to stop and smell the roses as they say. Julia Roberts has never been better, her warmth and sharpness melded into a tangible woman. Hanks is either blessed or ingenious in having the best cast so far this year, all in top form; Cedric the Entertainer, Taraji P. Henson, Bryan Cranston, Pam Grier, Wilmer Valderrama, Gugu Mbatha Raw, George Takei, Holmes Osborne and Rita Wilson.

Phillippe Rousselot's cinematography is rich and expressionistic of a world so much like our own yet remarkably optimistic, and James Newton Howard's score matches the playful joie de vivre of Hanks' overall tone. Most of all, Hanks channels the master of feel good Americana, Frank Capra. In all its charm and wile, Larry Crowne speaks to a current climate of hardship and hopefulness running through our red, white and blue veins. Larry Crowne is the real thing, a valentine to humanity, to Capra, to Americans, to the simple man. Larry Crowne is the feel good movie of the year.

Michael Bay: Big City Bombast (Transformers:Dark of the Moon)

     Transformers:Dark of the Moon, Paramount Pictures, Shia Labeouf, Rosie Huntington-Whitely

The third film in havoc auteur Michael Bay's action extravaganza contains some of the most mind melting set pieces in recent memory. Not since Battle: Los Angeles has the utter destruction of an American city been so hypnotically numbing, nearly narcoticized.

For, if nothing else, Bay is the one  American filmmaker who knows how to tap into the inner boys of men, the sheer love of a good explosion, for better or worse. His chaotic template can be alternately grinding and blinding. His best films(The Rock, The Island, Transformers) are pop cinema perfection, welding the distinctly American art of the actioner with classic B movie plotline love. His weakest (Armageddon, Pearl Harbor, this film) are fascinating messes which never quite converge their elliptical elements.

Love him or hate him, Bay is a master of the cinematic form. Transformers 3, the weakest in the series, contains some of his most riveting tour de force sequences. Yet it is hampered by a sub par script by the usually reliable Ehren Kruger. The first half is slavishly painful exposition, with Bay's curious combo of slapstick and straight face he has lent the series. Offensive racial and sexual stereotypes and the jarring absence of Megan Fox are only the beginning of stumbles from which the picture never quite recovers. At least Revenge of the Fallen, steeped in its slam bang platitudes, felt cohesive. This time, with a wrenching run time of 154 minutes, nothing comes together.

Labeouf is reliable, Turturro, Duhamel and Gibson return, while John Malkovich and Frances McDormand are left to flounder. The second half is long in coming, but Bay mercifully delivers us from the confines of the inane plot and revels in the glory of his gift. Steve Jablonsky's music score is riveting, and the opening is fascinating in its incorporation of American history, tweaking it into the film's storyline, recalling the much better X-Men earlier in the season.

Reviled or revered, there is no denying that Bay has left his mark on our pop culture consciousness. His passion for pyrotechnics and drive in story splendor is an art form in and of itself, touching us even when he fails.