Tag: Melissa Leo

Wayward Pines (2015) s01e01 – Where Paradise Is Home

My favorite part of this episode is when M. Night Shyamalan’s name comes up for the director credit because there have already been so many terrible shots, it seemed like it had to be a named terrible. Shyamalan’s direction throughout the episode will be godawful, both with his composition and the direction of the actors. For instance, if I never see Shannyn Sossamon in anything again, I’ll be fine, and it’s entirely Shyamalan’s infinitely lousy direction of her performance.

He even manages to get a lousy performance from Melissa Leo, which I didn’t think was possible. At least, not this wretched a performance.

Shyamalan’s also one of the show’s executive producers, with Chad Hodge getting the creating credit. The show’s based on novels by Blake Crouch, which I haven’t and would need to be paid to read at this point, so it’s unclear who wrote all the terrible dialogue. I’m assuming Hodge. Though maybe Shyamalan gave the stars license.

Speaking of stars, “Wayward Pines” has a motley crew of “used to be movie stars” traipsing across the screen, starting with Matt Dillon. He’s a Secret Service agent on a secret mission somewhere in the Pacific Northwest who wakes up injured and stumbles into Wayward Pines, Idaho. Outside the one Black guy—Terrence Howard as the sheriff—the show’s strictly as white and exclusionary as you’d expect from real Idaho.

Except Dillon soon discovers Wayward Pines is no regular town. For one thing, there are no crickets, rather noise boxes making cricket sounds.

He’s trying to get in touch with Sossamon, his somewhat estranged wife (Dillon stepped out on her with partner Carla Gugino, who he’s now on assignment looking for), but she never seems to get any of his messages. He doesn’t call her cell phone because he’s a shitty husband and doesn’t know the number. All of his personal possessions are missing, so it’s a little weird when everyone just takes it at face value he’s not lying about his identity.

Though we find out this episode while things aren’t what they seem, some things—people being out to get Dillon—are actually happening.

The only friend Dillon makes in town is bartender Juliette Lewis, who fronts him a cheeseburger and the address to a mysterious house where he makes a horrifying discovery. Sort of. If Shyamalan could direct, if Hodge could write, if Dillon could run the show.

Dillon’s a bad lead. I’m not sure how much of it’s Shyamalan or the writing, but he’s a charm black hole. He’s not as bad as the forced quirky going on around him, like Leo, but he’s not good. He’s a little better than Lewis, but Lewis’s performance feels like someone’s constantly distracting her from doing her job like Shyamalan was yelping every time she had a delivery and throwing her off.

Maybe he was chirping like a cricket.

Howard’s better than anyone else. He seems to know it’s bad.

Reed Diamond comes in towards the end and does fine. He’s apparently impervious or just knows how to work on bad TV.

The worst part of the episode might come at the very end, when the show gives away the mystery, promising the rest of the show will just be watching a bunch of unlikeable characters poorly acted.

Ida Red (2021, John Swab)

I don’t think I’d ever have foreseen the Heartland Family Crime Saga genre. Or how it basically employs every white actor who isn’t in a Marvel movie (currently) or once tangentially appeared in some East or West Coast Crime Saga. For example, I didn’t recognize George Carroll from his Ben Affleck Boston Crime Sagas. And Melissa Leo’s proving you don’t have to be a British dude to earn off that single Oscar win.

Ida Red is an Oklahoma City Crime Saga; it’s hard not to imagine writer and director Swab feeling very Michael Mann-y for the big shootout, which involves the city’s shockingly dull downtown Underground. The music in the first half is mostly a riff on Tangerine Dream’s Thief score, so I’m sure Swab can talk a lot of Mann trivia. Can he turn it into a good movie?

No, but at least the actors don’t have to be embarrassed by their participation. Though you can see the clock running down on Leo’s contract, she doesn’t rush her big scene, and she does manage to make Swab’s wanting monologue work, but she keeps a brisk pace. She’s basically just playing a riff on Margo Martindale from “Justified.” Swab doesn’t have anything original to do. He just strings together lifts from other movies and sets them in Oklahoma City. It’s shocking the state underwrites their citizenry being portrayed as, at best, sociopaths. Everyone in the movie’s a piece of shit. You’d think the Oklahoma Film and Music Office would hold off on the subsidies unless there’s a positive role model.

Though it’s Oklahoma, so what do they consider positive. The whole movie’s just waiting for Carroll to get arrested for going to the Capitol riot.

Carroll’s the local sheriff, who’s not very good at his job. The movie starts with federal agent and professional bad movie check-casher William Forsythe teaming up with Carroll. See, Carroll’s in-laws are the local crime bosses. Leo’s in prison, running the thing, with son Josh Hartnett and her dead husband’s brother Frank Grillo doing the legwork. Hartnett’s got a used car lot, and no one wanted him to get into the crime family business, but when Leo went to prison, lots changed. That used car lot is the extent of Hartnett’s personality. He’s less violent than Grillo, but Grillo’s a vicious psychopath. Also, apparently an avid male rapist, but that detail’s only in the first act when the film’s trying to flex its homophobia for the Redbox audience. It takes until halfway through to establish the real crime bosses of Oklahoma City are Black people pretending to be upstanding citizens, and the crackers just do what they say. It’s actually less racist than I was expecting but more homophobic. Not sure about the misogyny because women are only meaningful if they commit crimes.

Deborah Ann Woll, married to Carroll, and Hartnett’s older sister and in the movie for even less time than Leo, is anti-crime. She resents Hartnett and Grillo looking down on her relationship with Carroll, which is basically her being a housewife, silently watching TV with Carroll, and being a terrible mom to Sofia Hublitz. Hublitz is the fifteen-year-old troublemaker who’s got too much of the family blood not to be a rabble-rouser. Hublitz and Hartnett are pals but only for the purposes of the film. There’s no depth to their relationship, which is fine; there’s no depth to their characters either.

Swab’s direction is fine. He and cinematographer Matt Clegg screw up the third act—including badly slowing down the establishing shots in Oklahoma City—but otherwise, it looks fine. John David Allen’s editing is easily the technical win. Except for the swipes. They do swipes like it’s Star Wars. David Sardy’s music—Tangerine Dream-lite or not—is acceptable. Ida Red’s not an inadequate production.

Acting… Hartnett’s fine. He holds it together when he doesn’t have a single character motivation. Grillo’s showier, but it’s just as empty. They’re about even. A better script would’ve been about them and not shoe-horning in Carroll or Hublitz. Hublitz is middling. Woll’s middling. Forsythe’s embarrassing but fine; he really needs to sell his likeness to a CGI company so they can just make him a digital asset. I mean, sure, the writing’s terrible on his aged super-cop thing, and it’s not like he gets an iota of energy off Carroll, but still. Why make him show up when you could just do a digital standee?

Leo’s okay. Mark Boone Junior’s okay. Beau Knapp’s almost good. The writing gets him. Ben Hall’s got a more prominent part than his acting can handle.

It all could be worse. And it’s definitely of note if you’re a Michael Mann aficionado and want to see Swab artlessly mimic him.

Hartnett, Grillo, Leo, and Junior should try doing a good movie together.

Prisoners (2013, Denis Villeneuve)

Director Villeneuve takes a very interesting approach to how a thriller works with Prisoners. He ignores it. During the first act, there are quite a few flirtations with thriller standards. But the film almost always immediately dismisses them–like Villeneuve and writer Aaron Guzikowski are holding up a standard, tossing it away. Jóhann Jóhannsson’s music helps them through these quick examinations, as does Roger Deakins’s photography. Villeneuve gets some truly astounding shots with Deakins. Many are so good one wonders how Villeneuve resisted showing off. He never does.

That restraint carries over to the performances as well. Prisoners is constantly difficult. In theory, the four primary actors should be Hugh Jackman, Maria Bello, Viola Davis and Terrence Howard. They play two couples who have had their daughters abducted, they should be the leads. Well, them and Jake Gyllenhaal as the primary detective.

But no. And there’s another break–Gyllenhaal doesn’t have a partner. When’s the last time a movie cop didn’t have a partner. But Jackman takes matters into his own hands and the film juxtapositions his pursuit against Gyllenhaal’s. They aren’t alter egos; Guzikowski wouldn’t never be so simplistic. The script’s phenomenal.

Both Jackman and Gyllenhaal are amazing. Gyllenhaal wins out. He has a more complicated role and more screen time.

Great supporting work from Davis and Wayne Duvall. Bello and Howard have the least to do in the film, another of Villeneuve and Guzikowski’s plays on expectations. They’re both good. There’s no weak performances.

Prisoners is truly exceptional.

Oblivion (2013, Joseph Kosinski)

There’s not much original about Oblivion. Most of the sci-fi elements are familiar, as are most of the plot twists; the unfamiliar ones play like sci-fi elements no one had been able to do before because the special effects were too expensive. None of that familiarity matters, however, thanks to director Kosinski and star Tom Cruise.

Kosinski is able to play each scene earnestly. It catches on; one gets so enthralled with the film–Cruise’s performance holds it all together, whether he’s running around fighting aliens or just sitting and listening to someone talk–the unoriginality doesn’t matter in the least.

Oh, and the music from M.8.3, Anthony Gonzalez and Joseph Trapanese is also essential. It’s a loud electronic score out of the eighties (but with modern sensibilities) and it makes each frame seem new.

The special effects are outstanding. The desolate Earth, the giant futuristic constructs… everything looks great. Kosinski does an outstanding job putting Cruise into these amazing environments too. Claudio Miranda’s photography is fantastic.

As for the supporting cast, it’s decent. Morgan Freeman’s not doing anything he hasn’t done before, but he’s solid. Olga Kurylenko is fine as the mystery woman who haunts Cruise. Her role’s underwritten and she suffers in comparison to Andrea Riseborough. Riseborough plays Cruise’s supervisor and love interest. She’s excellent.

Oblivion is a big, pseudo-smart sci-fi epic. It’s breezy and engaging. Cruise’s performance gives it some depth. Could it be deeper? Sure. But it doesn’t need to be.

2/4★★

CREDITS

Directed by Joseph Kosinski; screenplay by Karl Gajdusek and Michael Arndt, based on a graphic novel written by Kosinski and Arvid Nelson; director of photography, Claudio Miranda; edited by Richard Francis-Bruce; music by M.8.3, Anthony Gonzalez and Joseph Trapanese; production designer, Darren Gilford; produced by Kosinski, Peter Chernin, Dylan Clark, Barry Levine and Duncan Henderson; released by Universal Pictures.

Starring Tom Cruise (Jack), Morgan Freeman (Beech), Olga Kurylenko (Julia), Andrea Riseborough (Victoria), Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Sykes), Zoe Bell (Kara) and Melissa Leo (Sally).

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The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada (2005, Tommy Lee Jones)

People really started noticing Tommy Lee Jones fifteen years ago, with The Fugitive. He was recognizable, given his long career to that point, but it was after The Fugitive, people started talking. Since then, Jones has done some good work and some bad work. He’s not usually bad in that bad work, but come on… he’s made some really stupid movies.

So, twelve years after he “broke out,” Jones finally got around to doing something really worth noticing. As a directorial debut, The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada is one of the finest. Given how many good directors Jones has worked with, it shouldn’t be a surprise, but Jones’s direction doesn’t really resemble any of them. It’s a particular, but traditional Western. They’ve modernized the story, but the essentials are classic.

Jones’s composition is both striking and anti-iconic. Chris Menges shoots in high contrast, emphasizing the visual beauty of the settings. Even the mobile home yard looks beautiful, even as the unhappiness drowns its residents. But Jones keeps his shots–he uses the full Panavision frame perfectly–close and personal. The shots are for the actors and their characters to inhabit more than for the viewer to admire. Jones hammers away at the idea of any sentimentality or hope for the characters.

In the lead, Jones is fantastic, but unimpressively so. He never gets flashy–the only area where he really could is with his romancing of married waitress Melissa Leo and the film avoids it, though it probably shouldn’t have. Barry Pepper is great. January Jones is great. But Leo’s the real surprise. She’s astoundingly good.

But where Three Burials has problems is with Leo and Jones. Leo is comic relief for the first half, which the script cuts to awkwardly. The story itself is linear and about Jones and Pepper, but the script jumbles it up. For the first thirty minutes, the narrative is fractured. Flash forwards, flashbacks. Lots of cute contrived relationships between characters, lots of coincidences. It’s cute instead of serious. The film’s legitimate until the end at least–the cuteness can be overlooked–but at the end, Three Burials forgets itself. It wants to be a film with an actual first act, instead of a bunch of cute edits. There’s nothing wrong with the first act and those cute edits, except they belong in a different film. Once the film really gets moving… it’s hampered with them, as it is with January Jones and Leo–who form just an interesting a relationship as Jones and Pepper, except the film ignores them.

They’re women… and it is a Western, after all.

But it’s a fine film with some excellent performances. Jones’s direction is amazing and he needs to get back behind the camera. Another big surprise is former Dimension Films horror movie composer Marco Beltrami, who does a great job here.

2.5/4★★½

CREDITS

Directed by Tommy Lee Jones; written by Guillermo Arriaga; director of photography, Chris Menges; edited by Roberto Silvi; music by Marco Beltrami; produced by Michael Fitzgerald, Luc Besson and Pierre-Ange le Pogam; released by Sony Pictures Classics.

Starring Tommy Lee Jones (Pete Perkins), Barry Pepper (Mike Norton), Julio Cedillo (Melquiades Estrada), January Jones (Lou Ann Norton), Dwight Yoakam (Sheriff Frank Belmont), Melissa Leo (Rachel), Levon Helm (Old Man With Radio) and Vanessa Bauche (Mariana).

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