REVIEW: The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn: Part Two (2012)

The Twilight Saga, as it has named itself, is now over and the final film remains a victim of an undue opprobrium while other, much worse franchises (there are called cash cows when critics are being sniffy, franchises when they are not) receive much less flak, if not wholly unjustified adulation in the case of the lazy and meaningless The Dark Knight Rises (incidentally, now the final film in a trilogy, despite never having been planned that way). The hatred may stem more from male viewers having little time for films decidedly not aimed at them, a failure of insight and understanding on their part. And while it remains true that the thinking man’s (or woman's) franchise would be no franchise at all, the Twilight pentalogy remains a rare female-centric series that has ideas to burn.

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn: Part Two, to give it it’s full double-colon name, begins with Bella (Kristen Stewart) waking up as a newborn vampire and finds herself very well adjusted to her new found superpowers. A plot involving the Volturi is soon to kick in, but the less explained the better. Plot, as in some of the best art cinema, is not necessarily something that the Twilight films paid all that much attention to – something that has always been grist to the critical mill even as they lauded the latest Godard or, yes, Paul Thomas Anderson.

Part Two is not the best of the series (Eclipse is), but the Bill Condon diptych comes a close second. Like Eclipse-director David Slade, Condon is not afraid to do both the softly lit slightly overdone romance sequences and the 12A boundary-stretching carnage, here with a full-on battle sequence full of head-ripping. And like Slade, he gets the balance right, tipping the scales to the favour of the romantic scenes, which are, after all, what distinguishes Twilight from all the male-centred dehumanised action spectacles. The plot is addressed often and a comically large number of new characters are introduced but the film is all too aware that it is the three leads that hold attention. In one sequence, some exposition involving traitor vampire Irina (Maggie Grace) is swiftly handled and the camera focuses in on Edward and his daughter Renesmee (played mostly by Mackenzie Foy following some dodgy CGI) playing piano. Here it is clear that Condon is aware that what Twilight does best is a kind of unpretentious romanticism unhindered by embarrassment or a need to please or, even, the knowing tongue-in-cheek sensibility through which much romance in Hollywood cinema is dealt with. This sequence also nicely recalls the moment in the first Twilight in which everything slows down to allow Debussy’s ‘Clair de Lune’ to take an evocative and unexpected precedence. Yes, it is corny, but one of the best things about the Twilight films is that they are not afraid to be corny. You may cringe initially, but they always manage to bring you in.

That said, there is as much to laugh at in Part Two as there is to be touched by, and the film is extremely funny and wantonly bizarre – there are few, if any, less conventional franchises/cash cows at the moment. The Jacob/Renesmee stuff is awkward but can raise a few laughs. Regrettably, Taylor Lautner has little to do in this film other than a very funny scene early on between him and Charlie (Billy Burke, also underused despite often being one of the best things about the series) and the battle sequence concludes with a very good surprise/joke. As always, the film does have its dodgy moments, the line about the Loch Ness monster being a step too far into silliness. And, as with the rest of the films, Part Two suffers from what is presumably a high degree of loyalty to the books, no doubt at the demand of the fans, which gives the film quite a few obstacles to overcome. However, part of the fun of the films is that they are far from perfect but they are always risk-taking, surprising and always strike a good balance between being ridiculous and funny and moving and romantic.

As for the message, this has always be the most misunderstood part of the films and this one will no doubt be no different. Bella has always been the strongest character in the films and in this one she is able to match the other characters physically. She takes to her newfound abilities without any problems and, as always, is remarkably adept. Eclipse ended brilliantly with a speech from Bella in which she addresses what the films have been about so far – her choice and her pursuit of self-definition – a scene, which also acts as the series’ rebuttal to its many critics. Part Two has a similar scene, this time coming from Edward, in which he apologizes to Bella for constantly underestimating her. The films have all centred on the idea of Bella’s single-mindedness and the fact that she knows better than anyone what is best for her and the fact that in every film and in every situation that the narrative throws at her, other characters tell her what to do – usually using the words “Stop” or “Don’t.” However, Bella is never dissuaded and always succeeds. When Edward apologizes to Bella for misunderstanding her, it is almost as if Edward is here embodying the film’s critics who often sanctimoniously complain about the film in terms of feminism and abstinence and of being a bad influence to legions of young women (a recent article by Periwinkle Jones is equally harsh and nonsensical). Many people have misunderstood Bella and the message that the films have been making about self-determination and self-expression. If not a feminist icon, Bella is at least a good influence and there aren't very many of them for young women in mainstream cinema. And, incidentally, Bella, and the film in general, are far from asexual.

Twilight, as a whole, and Part Two is no different, is thoroughly entertaining, unpretentious and bravely romantic. The performances are all good, with Michael Sheen great fun again and the three leads still playing it with the right degree of seriousness and honesty. Far from flawless, the films are all very touching tributes to young love in all its hopes and naiveté. But the films are also committed to speaking to young women, something that no other franchise really does.

REVIEW: Cosmopolis (2012)

     

  As we have seen with David Cronenberg’s last great film, Crash, a world saturated with modernity and objectification (read shiny, metallic surfaces) is a world devoid of warmth and emotion. Where Crash works as a moody, almost-futuristic fantasy, Cosmopolis tries to be broader and, oddly, more recognisably down to earth.

  Eric Packer (Robert Pattinson, doing rather well despite being cast presumably only for marquee value) is a young billionaire who has everything he wants. He jumps into his cork-lined and impenetrable limousine and travels through the city in search of a haircut. On the way, he has one-on-one meeting with a variety of advisors, their talks becoming increasingly philosophical. He also meets his new wife Elise Shiffrin (Sarah Gadon) for a variety of meals, their relationship unconsummated and stalled. He also meets Benno Levin (Paul Giamatti), a disgruntled ex-employee who is dedicated to killing Packer in order to give his life meaning.

  Like Cronenberg’s previous, A Dangerous Method, the film is primarily a talking piece. Cronenberg has lately become committed to the idea that film need not especially be a visual medium and that images of people talking are of equal import. The conversations in Cosmopolis are stilted and deeply intellectual, taken largely from Don DeLillo’s original 2003 novel – which now seems remarkably prescient in view of the subsequent economic collapse. The film contains a philosophical and economic critique of the modern world in which young billionaires have two elevators, which they choose between depending on their mood and everyone keeps an eye on the rises and falls in the stock market like more spiritually-minded people would keep an eye on tea leaves. The intellectual conversations range from the fascinating to the almost incomprehensible, delivered with a palpable coldness and near total insincerity. His theory coach, Vija Kinski (Samantha Morton) trains him on philosophical matters, pointing out that money has become so abstract that “it talks to itself”, and, hence, people are almost obsolete. She criticizes a society fascinated by wealth, but she does not seem to be bothered by it all that much, her intellectual talk becoming exactly that. That Packer might slowly be returning back to humanity is reflected in how he becomes increasingly dissatisfied with other peoples’ inane conversations.

  The film is about a world in crisis, on the brink of economic ruin but with no alternative and no place to go. Even the protesters are ineffectual with one particularly destructive and anarchic riot quickly cleaned up and forgotten. Even the famous André Petrescu (Mathieu Amalric, delivering one of the film’s few funny performances), an anarchist prankster, acts for his own camera crew, but does not have any valid point to make. The view of the world from inside Packer’s sound-proofed limousine seems faraway and unreachable, the life outside moving in a graceless silence as if it is all playing from a television on mute. If Packer is getting tired of his lot, the film makes clear that there is little else for him to do. Though unreachable, however, the world outside feels remarkably and horridly familiar as it clearly refers to the economic collapse and the Occupy movement, even to the notorious incidence of the self-immolation of the Vietnamese monks. Unlike Crash, it becomes increasingly clear that Cosmopolis is about our world and not necessarily some post-human future.

  The film is a hard film to like, ultimately because there are none of the typical pleasures associated with escapist cinema nor are there any clear-cut messages or arthouse gimmicks. Cosmopolis is a very esoteric and somewhat unique film, which is difficult to categorize and even harder to qualitatively appraise.

  However, the film does reach a fascinating and rather moving climax, with an extended conversation between Packer and the Mark Chapman-like Levin, introduced with Levin actually saying, “Let’s sit and philosophise together.” Silly as that may sound, the film develops into a conversation about finding meaning in one’s life and gaining the ability to feel again. Giamatti gives the film its sole believable and human performance, capturing with great honesty and subtlety a man who has nothing and who no longer knows himself. It all sounds very arch, but in the context of the rest of the film, coming as it does at the end, it works very well. The arthouse prerequisite ambiguous ending notwithstanding, Cosmopolis does develop into something much more thought-provoking and, surprisingly, moving, something more than the rest of this very strange and very cold film. It feels almost triumphant in a weird and incalculable way.

  Cosmopolis is practically impossible to like and it is far from entertaining, but it is a work that reminds us that film is a versatile medium, one that is expressive in more ways than we would probably want. Cosmopolis does not really tell us anything encouraging about our world, or ourselves but it is a film with courage behind its convictions and a near fearless rebuttal in a mainstream film culture that is becomes increasingly safe and unsurprising. Cosmopolis is ultimately a film that is hard to get out of your head after you have seen it, whether or not you are willing to engage with its ideas.

REVIEW: The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part One

  The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part One is the long awaited fourth instalment of the criminally vilified series of Twilight adaptations. What these adaptations manage to do is work as films rather than becoming pedantically faithful, messy and uninteresting ‘picture books’, like the Harry Potter franchise. For once, having not read the books is not a disadvantage as this series is clear-headed enough to be accessible to everyone. As well as this, they are also thoroughly entertaining, deeply heartfelt and powerfully poignant.

  There remains a lot of hatred for this series, partly, I suspect, because franchises aimed at teenage girls come under a lot more scrutiny than similar franchises aimed at teenage boys. Indeed, this new film will most likely not sway people who would rather ignore the Twilight franchise and those who actively hate it. However, it may very well be the best one so far.

  Breaking Dawn – Part One deals with the marriage of Edward and Bella (played by Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart) and their subsequent honeymoon. When Bella becomes pregnant, her health rapidly fades, necessitating a return to Forks. When news of the pregnancy reaches the ears of Jacob (Taylor Lautner) and his pack, relations between the vampires and the wolves are strained to breaking point. While Edward and Bella deal with marriage and mortality, Jacob finds his loyalties questioned.

  Breaking Dawn – Part One is an extremely powerful drama. While David Slade’s fantastic rendering of Eclipse allowed the series to move successfully in and out of horror and drama, Bill Condon’s diptych opener is mostly a drama. As always the performances of the three leads are great as each approaches their role with a sincerity and dramatic weight that marks this series out. Many of the supporting actors are also great, with Billy Burke’s Charlie still the most brilliantly realized of the ‘real world’ characters. Breaking Dawn – Part One manages to be the most heartrending of the series, particularly during the moving marriage sequences and towards the end. In fact, the performances are probably the series’ best. While the increasingly Cronenbergian plot machinations may threaten to lose all credibility, the film’s raw, at times intense, power keeps it together. There is also a healthy dose of humour in this film, which manages to keep the film’s feet firmly on the ground.

  However, what is most successful about this film is the fact that many of its most powerful scenes are primarily dialogue-free. Stewart manages to convey a lot during the marriage sequences and during the honeymoon, while Lautner gives an always-fascinating performance as the torn Jacob, often without saying anything.

  Breaking Dawn – Part One is also refreshingly adult and thought provoking. As with the rest of the films, there is much more than meets the eye. The film is ultimately a study of the passage from childhood to adulthood with a female take on marriage, sex and pregnancy that is too little seen. Along the way, it looks at loyalty, trust, prejudice and sacrifice.  

  Ultimately, with this series, you get out of it what you bring to it. Those in the audience who have built an emotional investment with these characters over the course of the previous three films will find it an extremely powerful, tense and moving drama. As such, it is one of the most affecting films of the year from one of the most sincere and emotionally satisfying franchises of the decade.