I truly admire director DANNY BOYLE, even when he fails. Unlike most directors, who generally toil in the same genre throughout their career, Boyle seems interested in stretching himself thematically and stylistically with each new film. It’s hard to believe the man who made 28 DAYS LATER also made SUNSHINE and TRAINSPOTTING. While MICHAEL BAY continues to essentially make the same film again and again, Boyle tries something new with each film.

This is no exception with Boyle’s latest effort, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE.

The film follows a poor boy named Jamal Malik (DEV PATEL) as he grows up in the impoverished streets of India. His adventures unwittingly prepare him to become a million-dollar winner on the Indian version of WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE?, which then gets Jamal in trouble with the Indian government. We know he wins from the outset, as the film is told in a series of flashbacks during Jamal’s brutal interrogation after his dramatic win. Along the way, we follow Jamal, his best friend Salim, and Jamal’s love interest Latika as they scramble through underground crime and a variety of seedy jobs in order to survive.

The underbelly of Indian culture and the massive tidal wave of humans that shuffle through it provides a dense, rich backdrop for Boyle’s film. He captures it well through digital video, which easily snakes through the tiny side streets and streamy backrooms of India’s most impoverished alleyways. Throughout, the film pulses with life and energy that lends an immediacy to the events in the film. The cinematography by ANTHONY DOD MANTLE is richly vibrant and contrasty, with dark blacks and heavy shadows. Visually, the film is terrific candy for the eye.

Boyle’s masterstroke was to employ very talented kids to portray their own lives onscreen, which they do impressively. Patel is the heart of the film, his soulful eyes betraying a sadness and a cunning intelligence. Also impressive are the kids who portray Jamal and Salim as younger kids. Unlike traditionally-trained Hollywood child actors, these young kids provide the film with a realism that cannot be faked.

The ROCKY-like, feel-good storyline, however, is a little less impressive. Take away the relatively-alien Indian backdrop – which gives this film a distinctive flavor – and you have a film like most of its kind, fairly cliched and ordinary. Boyle’s creative, thoughtful direction and the naturalistic performances in this special environment set this film apart in many ways, and might be one of the better special effects of the year.

I can certainly see why this film has been garnering so much Oscar talk, and most of that comes from the environment of the film rather than the film itself. It is certainly a terrific film for its kind, but nothing in it suggests a transcendent greatness deserving of Best Picture. It is, however, another wonderful piece of filmmaking from one of our most diverse and creative directing talents, and an enjoyable one at that. I definitely recommend it.

You know how the story goes: a young boy meets a young girl, both of them full of vivid dreams and aspirations, who then trade them in for an ordinary life like any other. Before long, repressed hope becomes a boiling anger that eventually leads to collapse. In a society like ours, which almost parasitically depends on conformity and compromise, we have seen more dreams squandered and more marriages torn asunder in increasingly greater numbers.

Such a story forms the backbone of the powerfully-acted and ultimately cliched and empty domestic drama REVOLUTIONARY ROAD.

The films reunites TITANIC stars LEONARDO DICAPRIO and KATE WINSLET as Frank and April Wheeler, a young couple who meet one night at a party. Almost instantly, they are married and burdened/blessed with two small children. They buy a beautiful two-story house that sits squarely in the middle of a Middle American suburb at the end of the titular road. Frank has a mind-numbing, poorly-defined job in an advertising firm while April, once a budding actress, plays domestic housewife while stifling her aspirations. Soon, the weight of giving in to the machinery results in aborted plans, infidelities, rage, and, ultimately, catastrophe.

The film, adapted from the much-loved novel by Richard Yates, provides a tremendous showcase for two of our better young actors, and they do not disappoint. DiCaprio perfectly captures the inner doubts that drive Frank to mediocrity, while Winslet restrains her April from some of the melodramatic elements of her character. The story arc pits the two actors against each other in a series increasingly frustrated and wearying fits of rage and despair, and they rise to the challenge spectacularly; in one fight near the end of the film, DiCaprio unleashes a desperate and naked amount of emotion that might be one of his finest moments on film.

Director SAM MENDES composes his shots artfully, and the restrained atmosphere is appropriately suffocating. Our greatest living cinematographer, ROGER DEAKINS, amazingly lights and photographs the film like a soft catalogue of fifties decor and style. The musical score by THOMAS NEWMAN is terribly repetitive, endlessly repeating the same three and four note chord progression; it’s like orchestral Chinese water torture. While these elements are skillfully crafted and serve their purpose in the telling of this story, they also tend to be elementally cold, emotionally holding the audience away from the drama. This is disastrous for a film that desperately wants to pull us into the emotional subtext of the DiCaprio and (especially) Winslet characters.

The film ultimately fails because of the script and storyline crafted by Yates and screenwriter JUSTIN HAYTHE, which is loaded to the brim with cliched contrivances and soap-opera histrionics. There hasn’t been an Oscar contender this ridiculously over-the-top since TERMS OF ENDEARMENT. Again and again, the film leaps from one prurient and gossipy event to another; the story may have been written by transcribing the conversations of old sewing circle housewives … Will his wife find out about the affair? And what about HER affair?? Will she keep the baby, or have an abortion? And HOW will she do it??? You can almost hear them whispering to each other and then gasping as they relate the tale.

While the film is well-made, and definitely has something to say about the male ego and the soul-deadening effect of conformity, its ridiculously cliched and restrained atmosphere ultimately makes REVOLUTIONARY ROAD a path unpleasant to tread.

Remember the days when Will Smith was our most electric and charismatic movie star? If you still do, then you apparently haven’t been watching the guy’s movies lately.

I’m not sure what happened to Smith in the last three years. Perhaps he has had one too many auditing sessions with Scientologist/actor Tom Cruise. Maybe Jada Pinkett bit his dick off. I don’t know … but something ain’t right in Big Willie-ville. In 2006, Smith went for an Oscar with the vomitoriously sentimental THE PURSUIT OF HAPPYNESS, a film that should come with a free vial of insulin. He followed that up with I AM LEGEND, in which he played a brave man who sulks around alone and sad with his dog. And now, just in time for Oscar consideration, is Smith as the saddest man in the whole wide world in the revolting SEVEN POUNDS.

In SEVEN POUNDS, Smith plays Ben Thomas, an IRS agent with a tragic past. Years earlier, he caused a car accident that killed people, including his lovely bride. He has spent the subsequent years in perpetual mourning, hunched over and sheepish. Then, he decides to do some good for other people to help make his own life worthwhile. But it can’t be just anyone; the recipients of his good fortune must pass tests in order to demonstrate their worth. In the process, he meets Emily Posa (Rosario Dawson), a struggling heart patient … and they fall in love.

First of all, let me warn you: SEVEN POUNDS is a trick film in the same vein as THE SIXTH SENSE. Throughout much of the running time, Smith’s Ben is consorting with certain people in serious tones, as if some great plan is at work. During his interrogations with the seven worthy objects of his generosity, it’s clear that the film is working toward some sort of major revelation at the climax. Unlike THE SIXTH SENSE, however, the strings are clearly visible throughout, making the conclusion less shocking and more infuriating.

It doesn’t help matters at all that the film is so dour and limp; it’s like watching rain fill up a cadaver’s mouth on an overcast day. Absolutely NOTHING in this film feels warm or alive. It just sits there, droning on while tinkling, “serious” piano music wanders on the soundtrack. Credit this unappealing mood to director Gabriele Muccino, who here reteams with HAPPYNESS star Smith in order to depress anyone who managed to survive their last effort together.

The one saving grace is Dawson, who manages to almost resemble a human being rather than an oil painting of sadness and despair like everyone around her. Dawson is a gifted presence, naturally warm and inviting … even here. It’s unfortunate that her role is so poorly written; her character as written comes off like a lost angel that just alighted upon the planet Earth rather than a flesh and blood creation. Dawson does imbue Emily and the film with a much-needed range of human emotion; unfortunately, her efforts are akin to a flickering candle burning inside of a crevasse in the least habitable zip code of Antarctica.

As for Smith, his super-serious turn here sends out distress calls for the man’s once-formidable talent. Every fucking hung-dog stare from the guy made me want to get my gun; while watching, I was constantly surprised that they didn’t digitally droop Will’s famous jug ears for extra sadness. I realize that they are trying to make an emotionally devastating drama, but this movie makes you feel like you’re being covered in blankets drenched in a dead hobo’s cold cum. In other words, it’s not particularly enjoyable.

I can certainly appreciate an emotional drama, and I love twist films when they’re done correctly. But this pathetic piece of Oscar bait tries to trick us emotionally for a “powerful” pay off, and it’s offensive beyond belief. It’s time for Smith to get off his high horse and lighten up a bit. Clint Eastwood didn’t start earning Oscars until he was in his sixties, and Tom Hanks had to wait until his late thirties. Just make what you’re good at, Will … sooner or later, the Academy will reward you just for being who you are.

They certainly aren’t going to give Smith one when he takes a SEVEN POUND shit.

At this late stage in the Hollywood game, Clint Eastwood could film himself taking a shit and likely receive accolades. And wouldn’t you know, his latest film, GRAN TORINO, has already garnered talk of an acting nomination for Eastwood and a Best Picture nomination for the film.

Hopefully neither comes to pass, because they are definitely unworthy of the honor.

Eastwood stars as Walt Kowalski, a cranky old man who has just lost his beloved wife. Walt is a foul-tempered bigot who rarely passes an opportunity to belittle the people he meets. Not surprisingly, Walt has a terrible relationship with his two sons and their extended families, who keep their distance and talk behind his back. Then, much to Walt’s chagrin, an Oriental family moves in next door, bringing with them trouble in the form of local gang warfare. Will Walt be able to overcome his demons and prejudices long enough to stop the violence? What do you think happens?

Eastwood is Eastwood here, growling every line with that familiar snarl. It’s a fun performance, high on nostalgia, but it is also horribly cliched and puddle-deep. The rest of the cast of relative unknowns are decent (in the case of Bee Vang and Ahney Her as Oriental siblings helped by Walt) to atrocious (Brian Haley is awful as the priest assigned to help Walt).

The main problem with the film is the script. It is riddled with the moldiest cliches in Hollywood’s cupboard. Dying old man seeking redemption? CHECK. Troubled teenager yearning for older guidance? CHECK. Cranky bigot learning to overcome his prejudices? CHECK. Gang of thugs who never learn until they are taught a stern lesson? CHECK. Annoying priest spitting out sermons at every turn to help the hero? CHECK. It plays like a television version of THE KARATE KID, and it sucks. For instance, there is one horrible scene near the end where Walt takes young Thao to the barbershop to “teach him how to act like a man.” Walt and the barber trade racist insults, and then tell Thao that this is how “real men” talk to each other.  It’s so ludicrous in every respect that my mouth dropped open at the sheer stupidity of the scene. Terrible, terrible writing … absolutely lazy in every respect. 

What an awful way for Eastwood to end his acting career, on this limp, paper-thin piffle. Rather than use his iconic visage one last time in the service of something bigger, Eastwood has made a small, pointless drama that fails to gel. It would have been a better idea to end his career in UNFORGIVEN 2: MUNNY’S MUMMY.

Seriously. This is not an Oscar-worthy film at all.

In the 18 years since Harvey Milk’s assassination as the first openly gay official in American history, little has changed. Homosexuals hide their orientation for fear of reprisals. Church groups continue to loudly denounce them and call for their destruction. And, amazingly, even the American constitution can be changed to restrict the rights of certain people based on their sexual orientation. In 2008. Unfortunately, discriminatory hatred and blind religiosity cloud the central issue: people have the right to be free, no matter their situation, as long as their rights do not encroach on the rights of someone else. A simple philosophy, trampled down again and again by those who care only for their own vision and beliefs. 

As I’ve pointed out recently, I despise this way of thinking.

Though coming out too late to help the recent issue in California, Gus Van Sant’s brilliant MILK still manages to make the case that all men are created equal. The film focuses on the last eight years of Milk’s life, when he abandoned insurance sales and began a run for public office in San Fransisco. When we first see Milk, he is cruising a popular gay spot and picking up handsome Scott Smith (James Franco). The two quickly shack up, but soon Milk’s desire to right the injustices inflicted against the gay community in his area lead him to a series of elections. This puts a strain on him and all of his relationships, but he ultimately succeeds in attaining his goal. His victory, though, comes at a high price.

As Harvey Milk, Sean Penn delivers one of the greatest performances in a career of great performances. We see Milk range from a flirtatious pick up artist to a frustrated and angry politician eager to make a difference. Penn slips effortlessly into the role, disappearing entirely and exuding just enough flamboyance without overdoing it. It’s a stunning achievement.

The rest of the cast matches Penn note for note. Franco impresses again in a stellar year with his portrayal of the shy and reserved Scott. Emile Hirsch transforms into radical activist Cleve Jones in a remarkably physical performance. And Josh Brolin amazes as Catholic conservative Dan White, his stern demeanor concealing a deep inner turmoil.

This is easily director Gus Van Sant’s best film to date, reminiscent of Oliver Stone’s early work. Van Sant deftly steps between filmed and archival footage, giving the film a near documentary look that perfectly captures the decade. And the openly-gay Van Sant doesn’t sugar coat the gay lifestyle, either, unflinchingly gazing at the rampant promiscuity and drug-use that dominated the seventies gay scene. Even Milk himself doesn’t escape blame, as Van Sant portrays the man as a skillful politician willing to cut deals for votes and use political power against opposers. While Milk is certainly deified in the inevitably sad conclusion, the film attempts to be fair to the real man behind the movement.

Occasionally art can show us the way to better paths and higher roads to take in the efforts of all men to coexist. For instance, the James Brown concerts held during the worst period of racial strife helped everyone to see the need for racial equality. May films like MILK add their voices to this ongoing struggle for equality, so that all men – regardless of their position in life – may gain the same opportunities and the same hopes together.

A magnificent film.