Cineplexus

Un Prophète (A Prophet) ★ ★ ★ ★

When I sat down to watch Un Prophète (A Prophet) I didn’t know that it was three hours long, that it was in three languages (mostly French, but also Arabic and Corsican Italian) or that its main character would be introduced with no backstory whatsoever. But watching writer/director Jacques Audiard’s 2009 film didn’t just educate me in the details of its modus operandi, it was an education on the nature of gangster films as a genre. And more often than not, it teaches not by following the rules, but by breaking them.

The "Prophet" in question is young Malik El Djebena, played so expertly by Tahar Rahim that it feels like he's playing himself. Thrust into a prison (we don't know if he's truly guilty of any crime; he says he "didn't do anything," but not with much conviction), Malik is quickly pegged by the Corsicans that rule the joint. He's part Arab and part Corsican, speaks Arabic and French, and has no ties inside the prison or out; this makes him a useful tool for the prison mobsters (my phone's auto correct wanted me to say 'monsters,' which is also apt).

The Corsicans are led by Cesar Luciani (the scary-good Niels Arestrup, an old don that has guards and even the warden in his pocket. Luciani needs a Muslim rival (Reyeb) killed, so he puts the task to Malik simply: "Now that you're in on it, if you don't kill him, I kill you." (Watch this scene.) "In on it" pretty much defines the rest of Malik's time in prison, and probably beyond, as he transforms into an unassuming crime lord. It's like watching the true-to-life prequel to some great Hollywood mob movie: all of the grit, struggle, and blood, and none of the fancy cars and gold watches.

Reyeb ironically proves to be the first person in the prison who is truly kind to Malik, and after murdering him, Malik is haunted by the man throughout the rest of the film. Reyeb's ghost whispers things to come into Malik's ear, and seems to motivate Malik's drive to free himself from the servitude of Luciani and his ilk. Even as Malik begins taking day trips during his prison leave to do Luciani's dirty work, he asserts "I work for no one. I work for myself." One gangster he meets on such a trip – an Arab named Brahim Lattrache – senses Malik's ability to play both sides and think one step ahead. "What are you," he asks, "some kind of prophet?"

The power that dominates the film's events is real, but it is never glamorous. There's lots of blood, constant death, and no one to trust. The imminent threat of violence keeps any interaction from seeming humorous or particularly sentimental. But all of this dark humorlessness makes this three-hour film drag at times. I don't mind a long film, but it's never a good sign when it actually feels long. Add in the film's fascinating-but-cryptic exploration of "prophecy," and some scenes seem especially extraneous. That said, these scenes lend an air of mystery and divinity to Malik's character that might not have been there otherwise.

More than any crime film I can think of, Un Prophète paints a picture of the underworld that is simultaneously real and epic, but does so without agrandizing that underworld in the least. No one leaves the theater considering a life of crime, that's for damn sure. How's that for a change of pace?

Today I have to decide what to say about "Un prophète" besides "Dark, interesting, long."

New Movie Year, New Look

In case you hadn't noticed, Cineplexus os looking a little different. Or, one might say, a lot different. The change comes as part of an initiative to (a) be more awesome and (b) streamline this movie love with my more all-purpose blog, Popular Sentiment.

I'm also excited to announce a new transition for me into full-time freelancehood, a choice I've been meaning to make for a while now. The transition has begun, so expect to see much more here in 2010. Hopefully by Oscars 2011, we'll be able to have predictions, nomination announcements, the whole bit. But my main goal remains the same: see as many movies as possible. And then write about them.

Wish me luck!

Oscars 2010: Kind of Weird

Last night I dreamt that I wrote a quick Oscar recap. It began, "The evening was full of young stars just starting out and old stars we were relieved to know were still alive." of course, in my dream, the show had featured Todd Bridges and Art Garfunkel, as opposes to the higher-profile (but still strangely chosen) celebrities the real show featured.

Last night, why did Kathy Bates, Keanu Reeves, and Ryan Reynolds each come out to talk about one of the Best Picture nominees? Why did James Taylor sing a Beatles song? I'm not complaining, the choices just seem a little odd. Maybe names were drawn from a hat?

I am, of course, ignoring the biggest shock of the evening. I'm not talking about the thrills of awarding the first screenwriting Oscar ever won by an African American (Geoffrey Forrester for Precious) and the first directing award won by a woman (Kathryn Bigelow of The Hurt Locker ;) and the odd speeches that followed. No, I don't mean the lady from "Music by Prudence" weirdly interrupting the first guy's speech with an insult before taking over. Or the fact that hosts Baldwin and Martin (really a funny duo, why didn't they do two hosts sooner?) getting away with calling Sarah Jessica Parker a "whore" and a "horse" simultaneously (it was a TelePrompTer gag surrounding the term "clothes horse". For me, the shock of the evening was that I suddenly LOVE Sandra Bullock. She gave a speech that included jokes, kudos, and a few tears all at once. It was kind of the highlight of the evening.

Weird, right?!

An Education ★★★★

Ah youth. It's hard to know where it ends and real adulthood begins. That said, it seems universally true that we all think we've made it to a responsible decisionmaking age long before we truly grasp the gravity of our adulthood, or of our decisions. This is the dilemma that Jenny embodies in An Education (which is based on the memoirs of journalist Lynn Barber). Jenny's father isn't helping — he's so dead-set on getting her into Oxford that he cares of little else. For example, he feels that Jenny needn't *practice* her cello or attend the symphony; just being a member of the youth orchestra is enough to beef up her application. 

No surprise, then that Jenny (Carey Mulligan) is swept off her feet by the older David (Peter Saaragaard), with his culture, his fun-loving grown-upness, his glamourous friends, and his inescapable charm. He's able to charm even her parents, as he and Jenny devise harmless lies to goad them into allowing her to accompany him on increasingly extravagant trips. Jenny is too young, too trusting, or too naive to realize how much one lie begets another, and that someone with one secret probably has others. 

An Education is beautifully filmed, wonderfully acted, and often hilarious or poignant. It has glorious speeches on the role of formal education in our lives and about the severe career and cultural limits women still faced in the '60s (limits that women in some cultures still face).

"Best Picture," however, it is not. 

For a film that makes such a valiant effort to prove the lameness of The Establishment, of square British upper-middle-class expectations, its ultimate message serves to totally undermine that initial premise. It's as if screenwriter Nick Hornby was unaware of the film's ending when he wrote the film's tenacious beginning and middle acts. If this seems like nitpicking, perhaps my opinion of the picture was skewed from the start because of how creepy I find it's central romance. Nowadays, there are laws against someone in his late 20s — maybe 30s!— courting a 16-year-old girl. Of course, the movie is based on a true story. But that might actually make the whole thing worse. 

Considering the grave implications of this romance and what happens between this starring couple, the last act of An Education felt a bit easy and trite. Cloying music detracts from a heartfelt speech from Jenny's dad, and the closing scene features an out-of-nowhere voice-over that feels like a cop-out. 

Ultimately, I'd be less critical of An Education's last 20 minutes if I hadn't been so impressed with the rest of the film. Maybe the sea of critics with nary a negative word to say about the film had the opposite reaction, i.e., the minor ending issues were forgivable because of the movies' superior majority. With whom will you side? It's definitely worth seeng An Education to fnd out for yourself.