December 2005

Syriana, while not based on any specific events, gives a chillingly accurate portrait of the many pressures brought to bear on the Middle East oil concerns.  Multiple storylines (each intrinsically tied together) converge to show how poverty, politics, reform, and economic opportunity work against each other, creating unintended consequences for all.  People who don’t follow politics might get lost among the multiple storylines, but in reality each scene impacts every other, even if it’s not readily apparent.  Top notch performanaces from all the leads, with particular notice going to the excellent Jeffery Wright, as a lawyer who slowly gives in to corruption.

Syriana
5 Stars

If ever there was a film to showcase the banality of evil, Syriana is it.  There are no scenery-chewing maniacs gleefully cackling over their nefarious plans here; just dedicated men and women quietly doing a job they believe in because they can’t comprehend the alternatives, and the few reformers whose efforts are stymied at every turn.  Easily one of the most honest and frank portrayals of how American oil interests shape and define the Middle East at every level, Syriana is a film that is heartbreakingly relevant to our day to day lives, even if it’s portraying a world most of us never see.

Matt wonders how long it will take George to realize he’s lifted the Cloonster’s wallet.

On one side of the equation of Syriana is Bennett Holiday (Jeffery Wright), a lawyer tasked with easing the passage of a massive oil company merger that’s currently stuck due a Justice Department investigation.  Quiet and dignified, Holiday is being presented an opportunity to ascend into the realm of the real power-brokers, which would let him leave his past behind if only he can find and ‘eliminate’ any problem spots in the companies’ histories, while still allowing Justice to give the appearance of due dilligence.  Holiday’s boss Dean Whiting (Christopher Plummer) is a power broker of the highest order; juggling favors and influence in his other role as member of the Committee for the Liberation of Iran, a hawkish think tank that’s mouthpiecing the unofficial position of the administration.  Killien Oil owner Jimmy Pope (Chris Cooper) is sitting on the rights to one of the most lucrative drillings fields in existence, which Connex Oil desperately wants.

The other side of the equation has Bryan Woodman (Matt Damon), an analyst for an energy commodities firm whose personal tragedy opens the door to working with Prince Nasir Al-Subbai, a reform minded Gulf Prince who is next in line to become an Emir, if he can outmanuver his younger brother.  Together Woodman and Al-Subbai are attempting to bring the modern age to the Gulf region, by ignoring American influence and pursuing home grown democracy. 

In the middle is CIA agent Bob Barnes (George Clooney), a dutiful and capable agent doing work he believes in, but is beset by beauracratic meddling and manipulation from higher authorities.  Set up as a fall guy after a botched job, Barnes is simply trying to save himself from the machinations of government ideologues whose goals fly in the face of the reality Barnes lives in.

Finally we’re presented with the story of Wasid Ahmed Khan, a young Pakistani oil worker whose livelihood is taken away when one of Prince Nasir’s oil fields is shut down in retaliation for Nasir’s selling of drilling rights to a Chinese corporation.  Unable to find work and treated as ignorant trash by a corrupt system, Wasid falls under the influence of an extremist Islamic school, and is set upon the path to martyrdom in the name of a cause he doesn’t fully understand.

Still with me?  Yah, it’s convoluted, but every single frame impacts every other.  While similar to Traffic in terms of the multiple storylines converging to a single point, Syriana sidesteps the moralizing and speechifying of that film while also refusing to dumb down any of the issues at hand.  Indeed, Syriana’s authenticity can be confusing for non-political minded viewers, as most of what’s going on is revealed in spite of the vague and non-commital speech of the Washington aspects.  Syriana is a film that rewards both your patience and your intelligence, as after a slow start the seemingly random plotlines slowly converge into a tragic point. 

Beautifully filmed, and well acted all around, Syriana takes the high road with intelligent film making and, while it may not be a thrill-a-minute fun ride, it’s a power and compelling look at an issue that effects every single person on the planet.

Director Ang Lee tackles the subject of love against the odds with the heartbreakingly beautiful ‘Brokeback Mountain’.  Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal turn in astounding performances as two cowboys who are overtaken by emotions beyond their control against the backdrop of rural Wyoming.  Spanning their 20 year relationship, the film spends more time with the pair apart than together, examining the price they pay for repressing their most powerful desires.  Almost staggeringly beautiful in both tone and story, this film is a univsersal reminder of the need to be true to one’s self.  A love story that should resonate with anyone, regardless of orientation, Brokeback Mountain may be the best, most honest romance Hollywood has put out in years.

Brokeback Mountain
4 & 1/2 Stars

Yes, it’s finally here: the movie that’s almost unrelentingly been referred to as ‘that gay cowboy movie’.  Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain hits theaters today and I’m here to tell you why it needs to be on your must-see list. 

First off, let’s just look at the pedigree:  Originally a short story by Annie Proulx, Larry McMurtry turned it into a full-blown script which was originally going to be helmed by Gus Van Sant.  Thankfuly, Ang Lee (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) took over the project and brought along with him his trademark eye for astounding visuals and his ear for stories that portray the repercussions of our repressed passions.  I don’t care what the subject it, that’s a damn fine starting point.  Throw in the ridiculously good Jake Gyllenhall and the OMFG-he-can-act-like-nobody’s-business Heath Ledger and you’ve got a movie that’s about so much more than just two cowpokes pokin’ each other.

Spanning some 20 odd years, Brokeback Mountain starts off in the late 60’s when Jack Twist (Gyllenhall) and Ennis Del Mar (Ledger) first meet while herding sheep on the eponymous mountainside.  Both taciturn and withdrawn, the two find themselves inexplicably drawn toward one another with feelings they neither want nor can explain.  Once their summer work is over, they come down from the mountain knowing that what they’ve found in each other can’t exist in 1969 Wyoming, and part to make their own lives.  Both marry supportive and caring women, but eventually the pull becomes too much and the pair embark on a ‘fishing trip’ that will soon become a yearly (and much anticipated) outlet for their deeply hidden passions. 

While it’s easy to dismiss a film like this as a gay-themed love story, in reality the central message of Brokeback Mountain is universally accessible:  the price for repressing our most powerful desires is always greater than the gain.  Similar to Wong Kar Wei’s beautiful ‘In the Mood for Love’, the love Ennis and Jack share is explored more in how they can’t be together, not in the moments they can find for each other.  It’s a theme that Lee has explored in almost every one of his films (Yes, even The Hulk), and he brings a fine understanding of those who are forced to live in that quiet desperation.

A taciturn and solemn Ledger hides his heart away from all but Gyllenhaal’s Jack, alienating his wife, his children, and anyone who would try to love him.  While Jack suffers more openly under the blatant dismissal of his father-in-law and increasingly unconcerned wife (Anne Hathaway), only managing to escape in those fishing trips and the occasional anonymous pickup. 

Less a film about two men together as it is about why they are kept apart, Brokeback Mountain is easily one of the most emotionally powerful and beautiful films this year.  The simply gorgeous visuals act as a magnificent contrast to the inner lives of Jack and Ennis while they suffer the realities of a lesson most of us have already learned:  You don’t get to pick who you love.  You can only decide what you do about it.