DVD Review: Incendiary (2008)

Michelle Williams & Ewan McGreggor
Reunite in Sharon Maguire's Explosive
Incendiary on 5/5/09

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As we hear in endless prescription commercials-- most medications come with a stern warning to patients not to operate heavy machinery while under the influence of whatever the pill contains. And much like the supremely devastating work of Danish Dogme director Lars von Trier (Breaking the Waves, Dancer in the Dark, Dogville, and Manderlay)-- Bridget Jones's Diary helmer Sharon Maguire traded in the tacky reindeer sweater of Colin Firth for her unflinchingly bleak follow-up film Incendiary which, similar to von Trier's films should be doled out to viewers along with a temporary supply of anti-depressants at least until the post-traumatic stress wears off.

Although the phenomenal turn by Brokeback Mountain Oscar nominee Michelle Williams anchors this controversial tragedy that-- like David Gordon Green's recent Snow Angels-- proves that women's weepie cinema didn't die in the 1950s as initially assumed-- even an impassioned portrayal can't aid the film during its severe gaps in logic, human decency, taste, and thinly disguised manipulation as a female punishment picture.

Although helmed by a woman, Incendiary invites us to judge right from the start as we meet Williams as a strong-willed Cockney accented cliched East Ender who takes her beloved four year old son to the beach for a day while running around in jeans that read "Sexy Mama." Soon her voice-over begins labeling her sad-sack soccer obsessed (or "football" rather), Top Gear, and TV dinner husband "right miserable," while she bemoans her hum-drum life as a third generation resident in what appears to be government housing.

Moreover, and in an incredibly unflattering light, we see Williams portraying someone whom Maguire and the original novel's author want us to assume is so typical that she hasn't even been given the decency of being bestowed with an actual name and the only one that seems to stick out from the start is the lewd one she applies to herself as a "slapper."



To this end, it isn't long before the "young mother" who is prone to wearing miniskirts and staring off into space in boredom decides to act. Thus, tired of coping with her psychologically drained police officer husband who returns from work on the bomb squad with the same unfunny line, "Well, I'm still here, aren't I?" whenever Williams inquires about his day, she begins looking for an outside thrill.

Dressing even trashier than usual and planting her baby monitor directly in the hands of a next door neighbor, she hits the local pub and makes a good show of blowing off the slightly sleazy journalist (Ewan McGregor) who comes onto her instantly before soon enough he's at her table, the floodgates open, and she begins telling him every detail about her unhappy life.

Williams manages to evoke sympathy for her stereotypical character in that we sense just how lonely she is without someone with whom to speak and-- despite the fact that she embarks on an affair, because of her undeniable humanity and authenticity, we're with her every step. However, it's a tentative trust we have in her that is dismissed just as soon as it is introduced by Maguire, working from the divisive and infamous novel by Chris Cleave-- when it moves Williams' and McGregor's early coupling into excruciatingly tawdry terrain.

For, in the middle of a very graphic extramarital shag right on the sofa she watches television on with her husband, the two are caught in the act by the most brutal form of comeuppance ever as a bomb rips through the soccer stadium where her husband and child are at that very minute.

Running towards the scene of horrific terrorism which left over a thousand residents killed-- still in shock-- we suspend our disbelief long enough with our jaws still on the floor as McGregor and Williams journey to the site knowing in our gut even before she does that the men in her immediate family are dead because as the film implies, "the slapper" deserved it.

While Cleave's novel had the intense misfortune of being released on the very day that London's public transit system was attacked back on July 7, 2005, Maguire's film-- already building in that bad sense of karma-- was struck by more horrific timing when its premiere at Sundance coincided with the death of Williams' ex and father of her child, Heath Ledger in 2008.

Now over one year later, Incendiary makes its way to DVD and Blu-ray via ThinkFilm and Image Entertainment. And while certainly it's bolstered by the performances of its two lead stars who also worked well together in the equally misguided yet infinitely more watchable, predictable clunker Deception with Hugh Jackman, Incendiary is a film that it's nonetheless hard to view objectively. This is especially true given not just the subject matter and sense that the wounds are still not healed in regards to horrific attacks but also on another level when you realize what Williams has gone through as well.

Still, trying to push all this aside and simply focus on the narrative with gaping plot holes and juggling a few too many red herrings and false starts in this jam-packed work that has several storylines all fighting to be the main one-- we're left with an absolutely compelling and heart-rending performance by Williams in a film that moves from a five stages of grief melodrama to paranoid thriller as Williams and McGregor ascertain that a cover-up may have been involved. As if this isn't enough, it also tries at least for little while as well to become a portrait of loss on both sides of the situation when she becomes friends with the unaware and surviving family members of a man who was more than likely one of the suicide bombers.

Flirting with the possibility of moving into Pelican Brief territory as her husband's former boss (creepily played by Matthew Macfadyen) makes a play for Williams and lets a few details about that fateful day at the stadium slip in an unforgiving and disturbing love triangle-- the film's decision to make McGregor a journalist at first showed potential that a mystery would be resolved but ultimately it's all inconsequential.

And unfortunately Maguire's adaptation and direction for the work soon makes a large case that it's an allegorical female punishment movie a la The Life Before Her Eyes as Williams' tartish character must make amends and physically save or resurrect life to "replace" the ones she took away with her unbridled lust.

While it does have its moments of sheer power and gives Williams a real "one woman show" style to display her amazing capability to convey emotion despite our wish that she was offered something far better than this work-- in the end it buries itself an even deeper grave. Embodied in an arc that at first seemed chilling and intriguing-- we find Williams narrating letters she's written to Osama Bin Laden as part of the healing process to deal with her loss that move from poignant to ridiculous by the film's conclusion with lines that have been quoted verbatim in countless reviews in utter disbelief.

A well-intentioned film that nonetheless "blows apart"-- to borrow from its tagline-- by the "truth" that it's all flash and spark that ignites us more from shock than by anything from the picture as a whole; in fact, you'll discover that much like Life Before Her Eyes and Blindness, you'll grow even warier of it the day after the one hundred minute work concludes and you can start wrapping your head around what you've seen.

Of course, I must admit that it's always nice to see the natural chemistry between Williams and McGregor and this pleasant admiration would be even stronger if the two were actually allowed to act opposite one another in a film that's worth their considerable talents. Moreover, let's hope that next time for the sake of the women of London's East End who may not appreciate the idea that they're all nameless and interchangeable or journalists who will do anything for a story-- we find them moving away from anything resembling a conspiracy and perhaps towards something that--horror of horrors, may actually involve a smile or come without a warning of serious post-traumatic depression.

Stuck (2007)

View the Trailer, Clips, Photos & an Exclusive Interview

The nature vs. nurture debate has gone on forever, nearly as long as the chicken and the egg question (which ironically would tie right in if that chicken starts misbehaving) and while it's one that we'll never solve, the bottom line is I think most of us want to believe that humans are born basically good. Certain things we're taught and certain things are instinctual-- from looking both ways before we cross the street or not taking candy from strangers to treating others as you want to be treated, some of this seems almost ingrained in our DNA but the one that seems to outweigh them all is self-preservation.

While this can be a positive whether it's willing oneself to make it through some horrific ordeal or illness, it can also be used to ill effect when its at the expense of others and such is the case which comprises the plot of director Stuart Gordon's internationally acclaimed and award-winning film, Stuck, which has newly arrived on DVD shelves.

Stuck's self-preservation battle is shown from two competing points of view when Mena Suvari's young character Brandi ignores proper and downright moral protocol and after accidentally driving straight into a down-on-his-luck newly homeless man (Stephen Rea) makes the panicked decision to keep on driving. While hit-and-runs make the news everyday and their cowardly actions are upsetting indeed especially if the struck pedestrian is in serious condition or worse-- the horrific events of Stuck are even more appalling when one realizes that the pedestrian wasn't just struck but instead stuck halfway through her windshield.

If this is starting to sound familiar it should-- inspired by the tragic, true story of a Texas woman who hit a businessman in 2001 and left him for dead in her garage, Re-Animator helmer Stuart Gordon and his screenwriter John Strysick produce a film that's as compelling as it is utterly unbelievable in its primal ferocity.

Instead of ripping it straight from the headlines verbatim and making their version into a docudrama, the filmmakers ingeniously craft a film that plays equally well as a dark yet intellectually compelling and often surprisingly wicked comic satire about the all-time low of public decency (as several timely issues including health care, immigration, the economy, and others are investigated) as well as going right for Gordon's prime demographic of horror fans looking for a succinct, gory little thriller. Much like Brandi's car, the intense nail-biter Stuck packs a wallop and the results of the film you will feel for not simply miles but days.

We first encounter Brandi (Suvari, who also produced) as a dedicated, loyal and hardworking nursing home employee who kindly tends to her patients even the one who requests her assistance by name when he soils his sheets and despite the impression that her boss is simply manipulating her, routinely comes into work on Saturdays to pitch in. Dangled with the idea of a possible lucrative and prestigious promotion in becoming the captain of the nursing assistants, Brandi and her friend Tanya go out for a typical Friday night of clubbing, drinking and pill-popping along with her dealer and low-level gang member boyfriend Rashid (Russell Hornsby).

Our introduction to Brandi is intercut with the man whose fate will him find wasting away in her garage, namely Stephen Rea's Tom Bardo whose last name is derived from a Buddhist term referencing his future "life-or-death situation." A recently downsized project manager who was let go before his benefits would've kicked in and unable to pay his rent, Bardo finds himself on the unfortunate receiving end of one bad circumstance after another as he's denied governmental assistance from what appears to be both a human and computer error, kicked out of his apartment and taking to the streets for the evening. It's later that night that he's dealt the worst hand yet when after far too many cocktails and pills, Brandi and Tom find themselves in the same intersection at the wrong time.

Video Clip:
The Hit

Although she instinctively drives to a hospital and later contemplates calling 911, ultimately, the irrational Brandi drives home where she pulls into her garage and closes the door. Since she was the first character we met and the horrible event was definitely an accident, we instinctively feel bad for both "stuck" individuals but with the more time passes from the initial impact, we begin glimpsing the inhumanity that lies in Brandi who's so fearful of losing her job (and essentially ending up in Tom's shoes) that she disgustingly puts her life before human decency and quietly waits for him to die.

When her boyfriend arrives, she confesses that she struck a man but leaves out the most important detail involving his close proximity and in a scene that at first felt unnecessarily gratuitous yet serves as the revolting introduction to her more deceptive side that will further reveal itself as the night turns into day, Brandi and Rashid have sex that's intercut with the recently awakened Rea's agonizing pain.

While morning finds her sobered up and beginning to think clearly-- guiltily she once again contemplates calling the authorities but when Brandi first lies to Tom and tells him that help is on the way and then suddenly turns on a dime and later asks, "Why are you doing this to me?" we're horrified to realize we know precisely what she has in mind. Feeling complicit, we silently beg for someone to discover Tom. While I can't reveal more-- structurally changes were made that ultimately strengthen the film into an intelligent and frightening character-driven piece that's escalated by the talent of those involved, especially the humorous scene stealer Hornsby who provides much needed comic relief as we realize we're headed straight for a brutal showdown that can only end one of two ways.

Far better than I expected-- upon reading the synopsis, it's precisely the type of film I'd typically avoid but due to the accolades, acclaim and inclusion in several prestigious film festivals including the American Film Institute Fest in Dallas and the Toronto International Film Festival, I'm glad I took a chance. Ultimately a testament to one man's fight for survival pitted against one woman's escalating mental breakdown, Stuart Gordon's shocking story of being caught between a windshield and a garage is a master class in visceral filmmaking. Just be sure afterward you don't drink, dial and drive and always look both ways before you cross the street.

Lakeview Terrace

Welcome to the neighborhood;
it’s time to move.

In his previous films, writer/director Neil LaBute has warned us that even disabled women aren’t safe In the Company of Men, one never can predict the deception living within the hearts of Your Friends & Neighbors, pleasant symmetry isn’t to be expected in The Shape of Things, and you don’t need medical training to be called Nurse Betty. And although he’s moved away from the Mamet-like morality tales of the evil lurking behind the smiling and welcoming faces we encounter on a daily basis by directing some less-than-stellar Hollywood fare, his obsession with miscommunication, misperception, and the just plain meanness to be found in the unlikeliest of places is again the subject of his entertaining if lukewarm new thriller Lakeview Terrace.

Unfortunately, its heroic main characters, the young, bright, and beautiful interracial couple Chris (Little Children’s Patrick Wilson) and Lisa Mattson (Kerry Washington), weren’t forewarned with a LaBute memo. Thankfully, their new neighbor, the stoic disciplinarian and widowed LAPD police officer Abel Turner (Samuel L. Jackson) is not only able but all too willing to turn and inform them that they’re not exactly welcome in his neighborhood. Greeting them with the intimidating gesture of an unfilled out traffic ticket with a note scrawled on the back that either threatens or chides, “Welcome to Lakeview, neighbor; observe all parking regulations,” it’s only a matter of time before he decides to confront Chris directly.

“Meet Your New Neighbor.”

Obviously, one shouldn’t rely too heavily on first impressions and Lisa tries to give her new neighbor the benefit of the doubt but it’s Chris who receives the most disdain as Abel not only repeatedly announces his dissatisfaction with their relationship but also begins to drive a wedge in the previously solid relationship between the married Mattsons. Whether it’s refusing to take down his insanely bright security lights that seem like they could double at an airstrip, which flood through his neighbor’s windows and emit an annoying high-pitched buzzing, running a near dictatorship when dealing with his two children, or when he’s all too willing to cross a line at work along with his loyal partner Javier Villareal (the always talented Jay Hernandez), eventually Chris has had enough.

Although in polite society, one’s first line of defense is to always attempt to work things out conversationally. Yet after Abel continually proves unwilling to change his attitude and ramps up his hostility to the new young couple, Chris—upon realizing that even if he could phone the police, they obviously wouldn’t choose his side—tries to reason with Abel directly before it escalates into an ultimatum.

“Back Off.”

Produced by Will Smith, LaBute’s film which was based on a script by David Loughery and Howard Korder doesn’t quite pack enough heft to justify the talent involved including not just the aforementioned producer and director but also its talented cast and gifted Dutch cinematographer Rogier Stoffers (Mongol).

Still, Stoffers is no stranger to suburban tales of evil neighbors and domestic discord, having lensed the Jennifer Lopez Sleeping With the Enemy-styled Enough and the impressive Rear Window teenage update Disturbia, and while we’ve no doubt seen this storyline dozens of times before such as in the over-the-top police thriller Unlawful Entry, I couldn’t take my eyes off the powerful Samuel L. Jackson. And within moments, it’s easy to see why—even though I wish LaBute would get back to his roots or make something as wonderful as my favorite (Nurse Betty) again—he would’ve been so fascinated by the material and the chance to work with Jackson.

Neil LaBute

And similar to his work in Quentin Tarantino’s Jackie Brown—it is all the more fitting that Jackson’s character is named Abel Turner as he’s consistently able to turn from funny to frightening in two seconds flat. As the cop who’s quickly going off the deep end, Jackson’s charisma is off the charts. And although the last act of the film has so many dubious plot-holes and logic free rationalizations that it’s ultimately distracting, he’s the one holding things together, making me laugh at even the scariest of moments. This is especially evident in a phenomenal understated scene where you feel as though you can cut the tension with a knife as Abel attends Lisa and Chris’s housewarming party and tries to make frightening small talk with their liberal friends.

You’re never in doubt of the fact that—no matter how ludicrous the finale seems in the world of actual police procedure—Jackson not only knows his character inside and out but we can actual feel as though we’re witnessing his very thought processes. It’s too bad that some of his best work in recent memory is in something that in the end feels like a slightly above average made-for-TV thriller but fans of Jackson’s won’t be disappointed. Not to mention that-- all of its problems aside-- I still enjoyed the film far more than the other cops-and-robbers-themed press screening held that day for the far more advertised A-list offering, De Niro and Pacino’s mystery, Righteous Kill. So in the choice between these two, I wouldn’t hesitate that you head over to Lakeview Terrace, although ignore your financial advisor and rent before you buy since you never know with whom you’ll be sharing a fence.

Rendition

Director:
Gavin Hood

Director of the Oscar winning Best Foreign Film Tsotsi, former lawyer Gavin Hood calls on both his legal expertise and interest in the moral issues of politics for his follow-up film Rendition. The film, one of the first to crash and burn at the box office in America where audiences decided to vote against the war in Iraq and instead go for alternative entertainment, gets a second life on DVD where it should fare much better given that films of bleak subject matter tend to overwhelm on the big screen and also due to the jaw-droppingly talented cast of Oscar winners and nominees.

Reese Witherspoon plays Isabella, a devoted wife roughly eight months pregnant living in Chicago with her husband, son and mother-in-law. When her brainy chemical engineer husband Anwar El-Ibrahimi (Omar Metwally), an Egyptian who holds a green card but not U.S. citizenship fails to return from his conference in Capetown, South Africa, Isabella fears the worst as it’s revealed that Anwar has been taken into CIA custody and rerouted shortly after his D.C. arrival to another country where he can be tortured and interrogated ceaselessly for information related to American national security. After it’s learned that his cell phone received several incoming calls from a known global terrorist Anwar is apprehended and his rights are stripped under the rendition policy which, born under the Clinton administration has become increasingly utilized after Bush’s war on terror began to transfer prisoners to other facilities in countries where the laws on how to acquire intelligence are far more dangerous and employ both electricity and later the infamous topic of waterboarding in a number of brutally intense scenes. Metwally’s Anwar manages to hold his own, insisting that he is innocent and that there has been some type of mistake which eventually finds an advocate in young CIA desk worker Douglas Freeman (Jake Gyllenhaal) who was grudgingly promoted to attending the interrogation after a colleague was killed in a terror attack.

Back in the states, worried and frightened Isabella tries to piece together the puzzle of her husband’s disappearance by asking help of Alan Smith (Peter Sarsgaard) an old flame from college who now works in a prominent position as an aid for Senator Hawkins (Alan Arkin). Acting on her behalf, Alan repeatedly tries to get the attention of CIA head Corrine Whitman (a chilling Meryl Streep) which results in the film’s best scene when fed up from unanswered calls, he confronts her in public to no avail. In addition to the main plot, another is interwoven back in South Africa as a teenaged girl (Yigal Naor) runs away from her domineering father (who is running the Anwar interrogation) to stay with her boyfriend as he begins to climb the ranks of a small sect of a much larger terror network responsible for the blast that killed Freeman’s colleague. If it sounds confusing, it is very much so as the film careens a bit out of control near the ending when the plotlines intersect and there’s a few jumps in time and place that will make your head spin.

The actors, especially Metwally are all very good, although Gyllenhaal seems far too young for his role, but ultimately, you’re left dissatisfied by an overly complicated finale that The Big Picture’s Colin Boyd noted leaves us to not only wonder “what happens next to so many of these characters,” but we’re also asked “to assume a considerable amount by the end.” It’s these loose ends and Rendition’s resulting air of mystery that doesn’t seem to fit the film’s tone as a think piece rather than a Clancy like thriller but hopefully, at the very least, it will get viewers talking about the tactics used to extract information and how reliable or moral they are in our global climate.