Nights in Rodanthe (2008)

Related Review:
Nicholas Sparks Limited Edition DVD Collection (7 Films!)

Director: George C. Wolfe

Thankfully having never staged an intervention before, I’m unaware on how one would begin, save for what I’ve seen onscreen where the unsuspecting “target” (or “subject” to be more politically correct) is invited to someone’s neutral location like a living room and prevented to leave before their friends and relatives have spoken their mind regarding the subject’s destructive behavior. Above all, it’s about making the subject realize that it’s time to change and/or seek help… or at least, that’s how it goes down on television. My problem is, having never met the author Nicholas Sparks, I doubt I could somehow finagle him into meeting me—and several readers and viewers—at a neutral location without alarming the poor man and becoming the target of authorities so the next best thing I have is the internet. Thus, we have with this unorthodox review a.k.a an open intervention for Mr. Sparks.

While the remarkable beauty of his work is undisputed and I especially loved his earlier offerings like The Notebook and Message in a Bottle, finally I had to stop reading. And this was not just because they were growing increasingly easy to predict as they all concern a great, passionate love wherein one character dies not to mention that universal equalizer of karma kicks in to kill off a character who has dared to love again after tragic events but also because they’re just so damned depressing.

I realize the cathartic need and justification in literature for depressing works of art—hell, my favorite novel is The Great Gatsby after all and I pride myself on having read nearly every major American literary classic (and a great deal of ones from around the globe), several of which end horrifically. (Hello, Ethan Frome!) Yet, there’s just something unrelentingly manipulative and especially tragic about the literary offerings of Sparks.

And after discovering via his website the vast amount of tragedy the poor man has suffered in his own life and as someone who has experienced tragedy as well, I received a greater empathetic window into his world and understand that a major reason it’s a recurring theme in his oeuvre is because it’s most likely his way to de-stress and work through his own devastation and ups and downs. Although when I also learned he was a former pharmacist, I began wondering what would happen if he went on the happy pills for at least a month. And if drugs aren’t the answer as I don’t want to inflict the wrath of Tom Cruise—then what about the unceasing medicinal power of laughter, of injecting at least a few more pleasant surprises and humorous moments than merely the obligatory wisecracking best friend that the wasted Viola Davis plays in Nights in Rodanthe?

However, if not for his audience or for him, than I must ask from one writer to another-- doesn’t one of his characters deserve a happy ending? He cares enough about the lives he creates to post a poll to visitors on his site asking whom their favorite Sparks hero or heroine is but the poll would be far more rewarding if those same characters were given more than a fleeting chance at happiness and a swift kick into the harsh devastation of a Sparks finale.

Hey, and if for no other reason, maybe by throwing us a curve ball of a happy ending, the works would suddenly become much more addictive again since we’ve realized we can’t simply depend on the fact we’ll figure it out long before we hit the final page or frame in a film. After all, greatness isn’t measured by how many Kleenex you can sell but by the longevity of the works and let’s just say that—even as a lover of the women’s weepy films made by the late great Douglas Sirk in the 1950s-- I have absolutely no desire to ever read The Notebook nor see the film upon which it was based ever again.

I admit to having stopped reading a few years back so I could be misinformed and if so I apologize. However, simply judging by the cinematic adaptations and the reaction on the general population, it’s high time to put a mini-moratorium on the Dickensian finales, Mr. Sparks. For, by now, they are so easy to predict that a majority of us were able to guess the concluding death in his latest work to make it to the big screen in director George C. Wolfe and screenwriters Ann Peacock and John Romano’s Nights in Rodanthe just from the trailer alone (view the trailer).

To be fair, cinematically, this one is far superior to The Notebook. And while I did find myself—albeit trying to remain strong in the press section—shedding tears not once but three times throughout the duration, despite my accurate prediction of the finale and the obvious manipulation of the production, it benefits more than any of his other filmed versions simply because of its star Diane Lane.

In her finest performance since her Academy nominated turn in Unfaithful (also opposite Rodanthe’s Richard Gere), she plays the struggling mother Adrienne Willis. Still reeling from her beloved father’s death and a separation from her unfaithful husband Jack (Christopher Meloni) who had an affair with someone in her carpool, she packs her kids including her Harry Potter clone son Danny (Charlie Tahan) and rebellious goth girl Amanda (Mae Whitman) off to Orlando with her ex.

Wanting an escape-- even one that comes with a fair warning that hurricanes are in the forecast, Adrienne returns to the Outer Banks coastal town of Rodanthe, North Carolina to care for the inn of her friend, Jean (Viola Davis). Adrienne’s hurried preparations to leave her troubled, chaotic life behind her are interspersed with the same actions by the only guest paid up for four days in Rodanthe, Dr. Paul Flanner (Richard Gere) who, having sold his home, throws a duffel bag filled with Spanish/English medical texts into his sports car and drives off to Rodanthe to deal with a tragedy of his own.

Exquisitely photographed, the picturesque setting of Rodanthe is a character in its own right and none more so than the beautiful clapboard and blue shutter old inn by the sea, where rumor has it in the form of an old pirate legend, wild horses every so often can be seen running free on the sandy beach. Gee, do you think we see any?

While it’s awkward at first as Adrienne cooks, cleans and tends to her one guest, Paul breaks the ice on the first night by carrying his dinner into the kitchen to mingle with the lovely stranger over wine, Dinah Washington, and stories of their heartache.

The chemistry between Gere and Lane is phenomenal and it’s more than obvious to even the most casual viewer who was unfamiliar with the two or their shared history working together, how comfortable they are in each other’s company. Yet, this is both a plus and a minus in Rodanthe. They bond much too quickly as Adrienne begins unloading all of her baggage right from the get-go in a way that would send most men running and despite the power of wine, mood music, evening l’amour, and the right lighting, they click far too easily, seeming like old lovers rather than new tentative ones. And possibly it’s because of this that Gere never fully settles into his role-- maybe feeling as though (even subconsciously) that it’s a cinematic extension of their other work together and they’re just finishing a conversation begun in earlier movies.

However, enough cannot be said in favor of Lane who turns Sparks’ overly sentimental moments (and some extraordinarily tacky dialogue) into the stuff of Shakespeare and none more so than, near the end of the film in a scene following a conversation with James Franco when she not only cries (along with the rest of the audience for the ten millionth time) but tears into that crying jag authentically in a way that makes us feel not just guilty for watching but wishing we were there to comfort her in her obvious pain. That-- my friends-- is an actress, and Lane just keeps getting better and better with each passing year, despite the fact that her roles are getting fewer and far more predictable, in the unfair and ageist Hollywood system.

While the film could’ve benefited from sharper editing as it feels much, much, much longer than its ninety-seven minutes and you’ll need to come armed with Kleenex, cinematically it’s one of the better Sparks adaptations, and the reason is purely Lane. Although, as great as she is at making us cry, it would be far more pleasurable to once see her laugh. Nicholas Sparks are you listening? Or more importantly is your keyboard?

Read the Book
&
Check out the Soundtrack

P.S. I Love You

Director:
Richard LaGravenese

In the late 1990’s and most likely to compete with Gap’s aggressively cool “jump, jive, an’ wail” and “Kerouac wore khakis,” advertising campaign, Dockers launched their own line of commercials which featured handsome men on subways and street corners catching the eyes of flirtatious female passersby who replaced the tired wolf whistle with the sexy, succinct line, “Nice pants.” As my favorite creative writing professor jokingly told us, “If a woman told me I had nice pants, I would MARRY her.” Now admittedly, unlike my professor who was on—I believe-- wife number four at the time, I’m not one for marriage. However—and no pun intended-- if pressed, my “nice pants” weakness would be men who write letters. Sketches are flattering and songs entertain but creative men who pour their hearts out on paper with wit, passion, and ease are few and far between. Indeed, unfortunately, it seems as though they only exist in syrupy tearjerker novels, movies about death, or in foreign countries. In the latest outing from director Richard LaGravenese, he confirms this suspicion by mixing up a cocktail of all three as we have a film adaptation of Cecilia Ahern’s novel about death in which our male letter writer hails from Ireland.

Inaccurately billed, advertised and even critiqued as a traditional romantic comedy which raised enough eyebrows when one realized that Hilary Swank-- Oscar’s queen of doom and gloom-- was starring in something funny, P.S. I Love You crashed and burned at the box office, with audiences preferring to see Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman’s awkwardly characterized “feel-good” movie about death, The Bucket List. Think of this film as The Bucket List in reverse as it opens with Holly (Hilary Swank in as my dad described “Jennifer Garner mode”) and Gerry Kennedy (dishy Gerard Butler) returning home from a disastrous evening as they wait until they get to their apartment to argue to avoid making a scene.

Unfortunately, while the Kennedy’s neighbors are spared the scene, we watch the loud, chaotic confrontation escalate as the two begin with one issue, and predictably although authentically, proceed to use that as a springboard to attack each and every problem existing in their marriage. Faster than you can say, “show us, don’t tell us,” in a scene perhaps best suited for the stage as exposition literally comes spewing from the mouths of our talented leads making them grate on our nerves fairly quickly, we learn moments later that Gerry has died from a tragic illness, leaving his young, devoted wife reeling.

Cutting herself off from the world, Holly proceeds to grieve in her own way, avoiding hygiene and cleanliness, ignoring work, and instead sublimating her loss in fantasy as she imagines still speaking, holding and sleeping with Gerry as well as watching every woman’s weepie classic one can imagine starring Bette Davis and Judy Garland on her bedroom television. Things change on her thirtieth birthday, when Holly's mother Patricia (Kathy Bates) and two best friends (Lisa Kudrow and Gina Gershon) stage an intervention that nearly fails until a surprise letter arrives from the deceased Gerry who reveals that he has left Holly ten messages which will appear in mysterious ways over the course of one year.

Signing each letter with—you guessed it-- “P.S. I Love You,” Holly begins to come out of both her apartment and shell as Gerry's assignments challenge her to take part in everything from karaoke to a trip to Ireland where she meets Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s Billy Gallagher, another sensitive and gorgeous lad who-- wouldn’t you know?-- was one of Gerry’s old mates.

Meanwhile, in New York, Harry Connick Jr.’s bartending Daniel hopes to become more to Holly than just a friendly shoulder to cry on, as Holly realizes that as much as she wants to move on, it’s hard to let go, especially when Gerry keeps reminding her of their love with each successive letter.

While Swank’s character never feels entirely authentic and too much back-story is crammed in awkwardly throughout the narrative, despite its contrivances and predictable plot points, P.S. I Love You isn’t quite the disaster that one would have expected going in. However with obvious parallels to The Notebook and Ghost, it’s important to note to prospective renters hoping for a romantic comedy that the film is much sadder and far more devastating than the lighthearted trailers would have one believe, which tests the patience of viewers considering its overly long running time of 126 minutes.

In addition and quite surprisingly for a chick flick that was originally penned in novel form by a woman, I was amazed by the fact that the most fascinating and rewarding characters in Love weren't predictably Holly or her friends but rather the men in their lives including Gerry, Billy and Daniel. But then again, it's easy to forgive the author's understandable indulgence; as I said before, men like these only exist in the movies… or maybe just in Ireland.

Romulus, My Father

Director:

Richard Roxburgh

Shortly after young Rai (Kodi Smit-McPhee) begins noticing that women in his desolate town seem to be so struck by his exceedingly handsome father Romulus (Eric Bana) that they stare openly with smiles as bright as the Australian sun, a woman returns who had smiled at him decades earlier in World War II.

With the arrival of his restless mother Christina (Franka Potente) who-- as Romulus phrases it-- seems to come and go as if their home is a hotel, young Raimond Gaita begins to become acquainted with the indescribably intense and complicated relationship shared by his passionate, quiet Romanian father and beguiling German mother who’s always had more than just a wandering smile for masculine passersby.

Unable to be content in the hot desert with her husband and son, Christina has set up a second life in 1960 Melbourne, moving in with the brother of her husband’s best friend Hora (Marton Csokas). Instead of divorcing her for her frequent infidelities which we learn are nothing new, Romulus explains that he’s unable to turn his back on Christina whom he feels not only needs him but whose love affects him to such an extent that at times it’s driven him to suicidal actions. After such a stunt puts his father in the hospital once again, Rai starts getting bounced from one place to the next as he comes of age when staying with friends and family, all the while hoping that the catastrophic fire and gasoline relationship between his parents will somehow get resolved.

Sumptuously photographed by Geoffrey Simpson (Oscar and Lucinda, Under the Tuscan Sun), the film marks the directorial debut of Richard Roxburgh who, after seven years of labor on his pet project, finally saw playwright Nick Drake’s adaptation of Raimond Gaita’s memoir realized on the big screen. Winner of four Australian Film Institute honors including Best Picture and three richly deserved acting accolades for Bana (in his finest performance since Munich), Csokas, and McPhee, Roxburgh’s work is not only a remarkable achievement but also provides greater proof of Bana’s range with a turn that, while shy on dialogue, manages to convey planets of emotion in a few chosen reactions.

However, the film itself does frustrate viewers in its devastating second half, making us wish that greater detail had been transferred from Gaita’s book in reference to his parent’s courtship and background since we wonder just what had happened in the war to make them so mentally unstable. Despite this, it’s a lush, old-fashioned and impressive film that additionally benefits from extraordinarily magical touches of cinematic poetry such as the exquisite bookend of Romulus and Rai tending to bees that have fallen from a hive which echoes the healing bond of their relationship.

War Dance

Directors:
Sean Fine
&
Andrea Nix Fine

“Since the day we were born, we’ve heard gunshots,” a child tells the camera near the beginning of this heartbreaking Oscar nominated documentary, which focuses on three children from the Acholi tribe living in a northern Uganda displaced person’s camp (population: 60,000) after murderous rebels from the Lord’s Resistance Army drove 90% of the tribe from their homes.

Even before we hear the words, their faces prepare us for the horrific stories to come, yet while unspeakably tragic, the film by Sean and Andrea Fine takes an unorthodox approach—it’s a heroic underdog tale framed as a war documentary as we focus on the preparation of the displaced students’ Patongo Primary School in working towards Uganda’s 2005 National Music Competition that will find 20,000 schools contending “for the right to represent their tribe.”

Exquisitely photographed with majestic beauty that’s in stark contrast to the atrocities being relayed, at first the idea of a Mad Hot Ballroom styled documentary is off-putting yet soon we, like the three children we’re following, realize how vital it is for the arts to serve to sublimate pain and refocus the children’s energies to something positive as opposed to feeling defeated or orphaned by the unspeakable acts perpetrated on them in the past and dangers of living in the “most remote and vulnerable” northern Uganda camp.

Refreshingly, the film opted to let the children, including thirteen year old orphaned Rose, fourteen year old Nancy who looks after her three younger siblings, and fourteen year old talented xylophone playing Dominic document their own experiences straight to the Fines’s camera in lieu of a narrator. However, some critics cried foul at the “uneasy sense of being manipulated” (Stephen Holden, New York Times) by both the “children’s controlled, likely coached interviews,” (Rachel Howard, San Francisco Chronicle) and as Holden noted one devastating scene in particular that he felt seemed rehearsed, and while there’s no doubt that the children probably did go over their tales a few times with the filmmakers, it doesn’t make their words any less heartrending or true.

Rated PG-13, THINKFilm’s War Dance seems like a terrific choice for eighth grade and above classrooms due to its timeliness and accessibility in getting the message across to viewers of all ages with an unusually uplifting storytelling arc, yet at the same time opening the eyes of young viewers to events happening around the globe.

The Life Before Her Eyes

Original Title:
In Bloom

Director:
Vadim Perelman

“But it’s too late to say you’re sorry.
How would I know, Why should I care?

Please don’t bother trying to find her,
She’s not there.”
- “She’s Not There,” (The Zombies)

In just one of the recurring artistic references that echo continuously during the follow-up feature from House of Sand and Fog director Vadim Perelman, the melody and refrain of the Zombies hit “She’s Not There” float throughout this tragic tale from screenwriter Emil Stern’s adaptation of the Laura Kasischke novel. Similar to the way that William Blake’s “Nurse’s Song” from his Songs of Innocence collection is used in a key moment, “She’s Not There” has a subtle effect on our main character that rivals the way she jumps when she hears the sound of gunfire on the family room television.

Using time like a revolving door, the film’s parallel narratives surround the beautiful blonde Hillview High School student (played by the talented Evan Rachel Wood) happily laughing and chatting away with her best friend Maureen (Eva Amurri) as they question when their lives will start. Ironically their wish to have something happen in their lives takes place just moments before a young, troubled boy armed with a gun enters their school and leaves an eerily quiet, bloody massacre in his wake before cornering the young women in the lavatory and telling them that only one will live.

Quickly we cut to the fifteenth anniversary of the event as the now married mother Diana (Uma Thurman) tries to cope with intense survivor’s guilt as she brings her precocious, rebellious daughter to Catholic school and goes to work as an art teacher analyzing the usage of flowers and symbolism in paintings in a way that seems to mirror her professor husband’s ethical lectures on conscience and morality.

Although she frequently wears floral attire and the same clanging bracelets she favored in her youth, there appears to be several changes from this now perfection seeking, restless and mentally exhausted Diana to her more wild and careless youth as a promiscuous, pot smoking teenager. In the film's extensive flashbacks, the younger frequently troublemaking Diana served as a stark contrast to her church going, prim best friend Maureen and the girls who shared a close bond that felt more like sisterhood jokingly called each other “the virgin and the whore.”

Visually stunning with clever effects utilized throughout in the way that both narratives seem to play off of one another which heighten the viewer’s interest after a devastating beginning sets the overwhelmingly bleak tone (which seems especially ill-timed given more recent school violence on the college level as well), Perelman’s film boasts excellent performances by its leads especially in the form of Amurri, who is the daughter of Susan Sarandon and Franco Amurri.

While initially it’s hard to step back from the shockingly tragic events unfolding onscreen that culminate into a surprising twist ending that had some audience members debating all the way to their cars, once the symbolism gets overtly preachy near the film’s conclusion which prompted some critics to bash the film as a right-wing statement movie and time passes, the filmmakers’ delicate anti-feminist subtext becomes far more apparent. Is it a female punishment film disguised as something quite close to a ghost story? I hesitate to say more as I want to avoid spoilers and further review reading (most notably John Anderson’s spoiler heavy one in Variety) will no doubt answer any lurking questions curious viewers may have.

A few less heavy-handed symbolic references near the end of the film may have decreased some of the backlash and it’s a tough film to recommend given not only the subject matter but also some of the slightly propagandist messages laced throughout, however it’s visually imaginative and fans of the actors will surely find the work of interest, even if the end result makes Life a large sophomore slump for Perelman after his critical smash House of Sand and Fog.

Of Mice and Men

Nominated for the 1992 Golden Palm at the Cannes Film Festival, Pulitzer Prize and Oscar winning writer Horton Foote adapted John Steinbeck’s 1937 classic novella Of Mice and Men for the second and far superior cinematic interpretation from director/producer/star Gary Sinise. As he notes on the DVD, Sinise, who had first seen the play as a 16 year old at the renowned Minneapolis Guthrie Theatre, acquired the rights from Elaine Steinbeck while performing in the Broadway version of The Grapes of Wrath. After a breakneck year of planning, including solidifying the script which was approved on the spot by MGM studios, production was underway.

Having taken part in the play twelve years earlier at the Steppenwolf Theatre, Sinise once again tackled the role of the protective George Milton. In one of his smartest moves as a filmmaker, Sinise reunited with his Mice costar John Malkovich for his pitch-perfect characterization of the mentally challenged Lennie Small in the heartbreaking tale of two close friends who travel together during the Great Depression while working on California ranches as they try to save enough money to buy their own farm and secure a piece of the American dream.

Nearly as vital and timely as it was in its first printing given the state of our questionable economy with frequent discussion of recession, Sinise’s film has also stood the test of time with its painstaking attention to detail in bringing Steinbeck’s vision to life. And perhaps it's even more accessible thanks to Foote’s augmentation of his lean and muscular writing by adding more emotion to the tale in order to enrich Steinbeck’s theme of loneliness.

In addition to being controversial for conclusions made regarding disabled individuals such as Lennie, Steinbeck’s novel also caused a feminist outcry as female sexuality leads to the men’s undoing, in the form of the flirtatious wife of their boss Curley (Casey Siemaszko). However, in the 1992 version both of these oft debated characterizations are deepened without losing any of Steinbeck’s intent. In the DVD interview, Sinise argued that one of the most important things he wanted to address in the movie was the treatment of Curley’s wife by humanizing the woman (played by the lovely Sherilyn Fenn) and emphasizing her loneliness being the only woman on the ranch without a soul to talk to. In doing so, he considerably plays up audience sympathy as opposed to the book’s depiction of her as a dangerous, aggressive symbolic villain. In addition, as Sinise shared, this change of developing Curley’s wife into a fully realized character makes the film’s memorably shocking ending all the more tragic. Additionally, in my view, it makes her yet another one of the many lonely outcasts that populate Steinbeck’s world, inviting the audience to draw greater parallels between her character as well as the others, especially Lennie who is painted as the ultimate outsider, given his childlike innocence that’s contrasted with his dangerous strength and overwhelming size.

While it’s Malkovich that ultimately steals the film, I was especially touched by Sinise’s characterization in depicting George in a tenderer fatherly manner, and after viewing the film a second time around, began to realize that in truth, he had the more difficult role. Not only does George serve as the negotiator of both Lennie’s optimistic fairy tale like hope for a better future and the harsh realities of the ranch but he also served as the glue in the relationships with every character in a way that had me recalling William Hurt’s underrated, similarly all-encompassing role in Children of a Lesser God. While George is nowhere near as flashy or memorable as Lennie who holds our hearts for the entire running time, it’s ultimately George who serves as the contemplative stand-in for the audience as he’s the one we’re constantly judging throughout the movie.

Seeing the two great actors working together at the peak of their careers makes Of Mice and Men all the more precious and it’s this immediate bond the two share that wins us over from the start. This relationship is definitely heightened by Foote’s script which, under the guidance of Sinise who wanted to make his own Scarecrow like “buddy movie” (for lack of a better phrase), allows the two not only to shine but invites Steinbeck fans to look even deeper into the novella. And perhaps it's this more than anything that should be the true test of the success of adapting literature in whether or not it inspires us to go back to Steinbeck’s novella to compare and contrast while appreciating the similarities and differences of each instead of just choosing one over the other. In that regard and so many others, Sinise's Of Mice and Men is an overwhelming success.

Ladder 49

Director:
Jay Russell

When this old-fashioned epic honoring the brave men and women who dedicate their lives to saving others as firefighters was first released in 2004, on the surface it looked like it was a salute to the everyday heroes who stepped up to help search and rescue on September 11, 2001. However, further research revealed that it was written prior to 9/11 and originally set in New York but understandably changed its location after that fateful day to Baltimore, Maryland in this saga that follows Jack Morrison (Joaquin Phoenix) from his earliest days as a probationary trainee to a full fledged veteran with years of service with his fire station group, Ladder 49 that’s led by Captain Mike Kennedy (John Travolta).

Bookending the film with a horrifying blaze that finds Jack trapped in a huge building while Kennedy and the others on his crew try to rescue him, Jack looks back on the events that had led him to that particular moment in time including not only his role as a fireman but also a husband and father. Although some critics felt the work was overly sentimental and pointed out the film’s admittedly episodic structure, I felt that it was respectful and highly compelling filmmaking with the only major flaw being the unconvincing makeup of Phoenix and Jacinda Barrett who played his wife as-- throughout the picture-- they looked exactly how they did when they first met even though supposedly ten years had gone by.

Impressively, IMDb reported that every fire related incident in the film depicted an actual event that occurred within the United States and while, at times one can predict the events that may possibly happen to further the narrative, it’s elevated by the script by Lewis Colick (who worked on the screenplays of the equally old-fashioned October Sky and Beyond the Sea) along with the thoughtful direction of Jay Russell (My Dog Skip, Tuck Everlasting). Of course, it’s the thinking person’s action star Joaquin Phoenix who completed extensive academy and job training that’s the real star of this picture, managing to capture several emotions in a single scene and in the end will undoubtedly make even the toughest viewer find it nearly impossible to fight back tears.

Under the Same Moon

Foreign Title:
La Misma Luna
Director:
Patricia Riggen

Think of it as August Rush flavored neorealism in the wondrous crowd pleaser Under the Same Moon that, in its Sundance Film Festival premiere, received a standing ovation from the audience. Making her feature film debut, director Patricia Riggen, working from a script by “Go, Diego! Go!” writer Ligiah Villalobos follows Carlitos (Adrian Alonso), a young, precocious boy who, just after his ninth birthday decides to make the risky and increasingly dangerous illegal journey from Mexico to East Los Angeles on his own in order to reunite with his mother (Kate del Castillo). After a rocky start hiding in the vehicle driven by college students America Ferrera and Jesse Garcia, he soon makes the unlikely acquaintance of Enrique (Eugenio Derbez), who like the elderly woman in Salles’ Central Station, is a rough around the edges, grumpy sort who finds their heart melting around the adorable child.

While it’s the gifted young Alonso who captures the affection of the audience from the get-go, it’s ultimately Derbez who is the film’s most valuable asset, turning in a tough, convincing and layered performance that may have easily ventured over in the land of camp or as a one-note portrayal. The travels of Carlitos are intercut with the story of his struggling single mother Rosario, who, beautiful and hardworking, cleans houses for wealthy white employers to try and give her son a better life and has come to the crossroads of her life in trying to figure out if she should return home or make her citizenship legal by marrying the handsome and sensitive Paco (Gabriel Porras) who has long had a romantic interest in Rosario.

With plenty of dramatic heartbreak and missed connections along the way, Under the Same Moon, much like its tiny hero Carlitos, journeys onward to an emotional conclusion guaranteed to make even the most hardened viewer blink back a few tears. While there’s a definite political undercurrent to the topical tale of illegal immigration in Riggen’s film, it’s never heavy handed and takes the lofty stance of character driven plot to illuminate the struggle and even for those who may disagree with the border crossing, one cannot deny the relatable story of a child going to great lengths to reunite with a mother who in return has gone to great lengths to take care of her son.

Digging to China

Director:
Timothy Hutton

Some kids want to run away to join the circus, or as the heroine of My Girl decided, to run away and join The Brady Bunch. In Digging to China, Harriet (Evan Rachel Wood) wants to run away so badly that she tries to get abducted by a UFO so that she can be anywhere but 1960’s rural New Hampshire. Living with her caring but maddeningly alcoholic mother Mrs. Frankovitz (Cathy Moriarty) and twenty-six year old flirtatious sister Gwen (Mary Stuart Masterson) in the motel that the women earned in a divorce settlement, Harriet longs for adventure and when she’s unable to get it by trying to escape, she decides to use her imagination and ingenuity in a wide variety of failed experiments such as a balloon chair and other attempts. Her flights from reality take a backseat with the arrival of thirty year old mentally impaired Ricky (Kevin Bacon) who shows up to stay at the hotel en route to an institution by his sickly, aging mother Leah (Marian Seldes) who worries about what will happen to her son after she has passed away.

Despite their twenty year age difference, mentally and emotionally Ricky is on the same page as the ten year old Harriet and the two become fast friends whose limitations and worries are lessened as they begin to find confidence and hope even after Harriet is faced with an overwhelming and unexpected tragedy. However, the rest of the world isn’t as forgiving of a grown man spending time with an impressionable child and Gwen tries to separate the two which inspires Harriet’s escapist tendencies once again when she and Ricky go on the lam to live the life of boxcar children until they must return.

While it’s easy to dismiss as what Maltin referred to as a “one note” premise, it’s compassionately told and startlingly well acted by Wood in her screen debut as well as by Bacon that recalls at times I Am Sam. Winner of two film festival awards, actor Timothy Hutton’s likable debut as a feature film director was written by the talented screenwriter Karen Janszen who also penned quality family films Duma and Gracie.

Sleepwalking

Director: William Maher

Returning to the same bleak and gritty territory she explored in works such as In the Valley of Elah, North Country and Monster, Charlize Theron proves her devotion to indie sleepers with her involvement as both a supporting actress and producer on Sleepwalking. An Official Selection at the Sundance Film Festival and a feature debut for former assistant director William Maher and his former Chumscrubber colleague (writer Zac Stanford), Theron stars as Joleen, an irresponsible, unlucky, self-involved and promiscuous mother who, after her live-in boyfriend is arrested for growing marijuana, packs up her belongings and brings her eleven year old daughter Tara (AnnaSophia Robb) to stay with her younger brother James (Nick Stahl).

After a one-night stand with a trucker, Joleen impulsively leaves, abandoning her daughter with her clueless brother and a vague letter explaining that she’ll be back in a month in time for Tara’s birthday. Barely able to take care of himself and without a driver’s license, James struggles with his newfound responsibility and it isn’t long before he loses his job, apartment and social services starts calling until he and Tara ultimately decide to go off on their own. While my summary ends there, the film’s marketing campaign wasn’t quite that tactful, saddling Sleepwalking with one of the most wholly revealing film trailers in recent memory. From only one viewing, I’d venture to guess that 99.9% of the viewers will be able to predict the entire plot in detail so this being said, if you have any desire to see Sleepwalking, avoid the preview like the plague.

With fine support from character actors Woody Harrelson (the film’s sole comic relief) and a chilling, one-note Dennis Hopper who seems to be, at this point, playing a Dennis Hopper stereotypical baddie, the film is filled with the typical depression and purposely dirty, ugly and gray cinematography to superfluously establish the tone. In a sea of endlessly depressing indie works, Sleepwalking rates about average and the film's simplistic feel makes one realize that it may have been more successful as a work of fiction. While not as good as the aforementioned Theron films or nearly as brilliant as Nick Stahl’s similarly themed picture In the Bedroom, it provides Stahl with an even greater opportunity than his brief role in Bedroom to show his impressive range and although it’s hard to relate to any of the characters in the film, the viewers (just like the characters of Joleen and Tara) tend to put their trust in him and are lucky that their belief is largely justified… even if I can’t say the same for the film.

In the Valley of Elah

Director:
Paul Haggis

Inspired by a true story, this heart-wrenching and gritty drama follows career army veteran Hank Deerfield (Tommy Lee Jones) who gets a startling phone call from his son Mike’s base in New Mexico’s Fort Rudd stating that Mike (Jonathan Tucker) has gone AWOL just after returning to American soil from his time in Iraq.

Leaving his worried wife Joan (Susan Sarandon) behind, Hank sets off from Tennessee to try and find his son, assuming that he’s just disappeared for awhile to enjoy himself and blow off some much needed steam only to be devastated by the unspeakable aftermath following the discovery of his son’s charred remains. Caught between the bureaucracy of the army base that wants to take over the investigation of one of its own and the local police who struggle against that red tape daily, Hank fears that the crime will be covered up and conducts his own investigation after grudgingly receiving help from Detective Emily Sanders (Charlize Theron) who, tired of being ridiculed by her sexist male coworkers aids Hank in his quest.

With only a few clues to go on sent by Mike himself in the form of e-mailed photos and a fried cell phone containing brief video clips shot by Mike while in Iraq that Hank hires a hacker to try and unscramble, Hank and Emily go down a road of haunting deeds and outrageous lies that shocks them, and the audience, to their very core.

While largely ignored, as other Iraqi themed films were in the fall of 2007, In the Valley of Elah garnered rave critical reviews including prominent placement on top ten lists from noteworthy sources and also recognition in the form of an Oscar nomination for Jones as Best Actor, although his role in this was overshadowed by his even more potent supporting turn in No Country for Old Men which, like Elah, also costars Josh Brolin.

Written specifically for Theron and originally as a vehicle for Clint Eastwood who helped get the film greenlighted (IMDb), talented writer/director Paul Haggis (Crash) crafts a memorable and emotionally charged film that will not only haunt audiences for days but also admirably and subtly without preaching, make us wonder just what we are doing to another generation of young military men and women by sending them into foreign countries to fight wars that do not make any sense, yet they go bravely like David fighting Goliath in the biblical story where the film received its name.