In this latest doomsday pic Earth's inner core has stopped rotating a situation that will eventually cause the planet's electromagnetic fields to collapse. If it isn't fixed pronto static charges will create "super storms" that will generate hundreds of lightening strikes per square mile and cause microwave radiation to ultimately cook the planet. Government and military officials conjure up a team of scientists led by geophysicist Josh Keyes (Aaron Eckhart) to travel to the planet's core and get it spinning again. Accompanying them are geophysicist Dr. Zimsky (Stanley Tucci) atomic weapons expert Dr. Levesque (Tchéky Karyo) "terranauts" Major Childs (Hilary Swank) and Commander Iverson (Bruce Greenwood) and Dr. Brazzelton (Delroy Lindo)--the renegade scientist who built the subterranean vessel. Their mission is to travel to the center of the earth to detonate a nuclear device that will hopefully jump-start the core and save the world. Like the "terranauts" grinding their way through Earth's layers to get to the planet's core The Core laboriously plods through the storyline to get to its climax--and both are equally uneventful.
Despite a really corny scene in which he demonstrates what will happen to the planet by torching some sort of fruit on a fork Eckhart (Possession) is believable as the sensible Keyes. Co-star Swank (Insomnia) meanwhile brings intensity to the role of fledgling astronaut Childs. It is Tucci (Big Trouble) however who creates the film's most interesting character the arrogant Dr. Zimsky. The diva-esque geophysicist heads to the center of the earth in style with his Louis Vuitton monogrammed canvas bag and an endless supply of cigarettes--making him politically--and refreshingly--incorrect. You'll love how he pompously records the mission's progress in a Carl Sagan-style narration. Back at mission control D.J. Qualls' computer-hacking character Rat mirrors a recent report describing the characteristics of computer virus writers: Male. Obsessed with computers. Lacking a girlfriend. Aged 14 to 34. Capable of sowing chaos worldwide. Qualls (The New Guy) couldn't be more suited for this digital graffiti artist role.
Director Jon Amiel helps define the film's main characters by weaving vignettes of their everyday lives throughout the first half of the film but so much effort is devoted to exploring their individual backgrounds that relationships among the team members are never established. The minor characters are like extras in a Star Trek episode--they're just onscreen to die. The Core also fizzles as a believable disaster movie because of its flimsy scientific reasoning even if you try to suspend your disbelief for the sake of cinematic "escapism." While I can make myself believe for example that a government-created weapon of mass destruction is to blame for the planet's imminent annihilation I cannot buy into the notion that this high-tech vessel was built by a renegade scientist in his backyard and is able to withstand the rough trip to the center of the earth. Although the film's original November release date was delayed because more time was needed to complete the special effects don't expect to be visually dazzled by the voyage. Most of what we see is what the "terranauts" see on their screen: spotty black-and-white renditions of sharp jagged rock. Scenes of the Roman Coliseum getting zapped by lightening and San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge melting aren't convincing either.
The weekend flew by with no signs of slowing down, starting with Saturday night's cocktail party at the Carlton Terrace, where wine started flowing early for everyone celebrating Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant's new film, Two Weeks Notice.
Also on Saturday, Antonio Banderas and Rebecca Romijn-Stamos hosted their après-midnight exclusive screening of Brian de Palma's Femme Fatale. Melanie Griffith, wearing a red-carpet shade of lipstick, accompanied her husband up the Palais steps.
Finally, Sunday: awards night! A full moon graced the Riviera, bathing the winners in a light the paparazzi couldn't rival.
A screening of Jeremy Irons's movie And Now… Ladies and Gentlemen coincides with the closing ceremony. In it, he plays an English gangster who meets a burnt-out jazz singer (played by real-life French pop star Patricia Kass) in Morocco.
David Lynch has quite a decorated history here in Cannes. In 1990 he won the coveted Palme d'Or for Wild at Heart, last year he won Best Director for Mulholland Drive, and last week he was awarded the French Legion of Honor while he was the head of the jury. On Sunday, everybody was waiting to find out from him who'd won what!
Martin Scorsese headed the short film competition with the help of fellow judge Tilda Swinton (Orlando) and others. Co-winners of the Jury Prize were The Stone of Folly, a story about a medieval-era doctor by Canadian director Jesse Rosensweet, and Very, Very Silent Film, by Indian director Manish Jua. Peter Meszaros of Hungary won the Palm d'Or of Short Film for Eso Utan.
The Camera d'Or is a prize that any first-time feature director in any part of the festival is eligible to win. This year two winners were awarded the Camera: French helmer Julie Lopes-Curval for Bord du Mar, about love in a seaside town, and Mexican filmmaker Carlos Reygadas for Japon, a story about redemption. Both films were part of the Directors Fortnight.
Mulholland Drive star Naomi Watts presented Michael Moore with the 55th Anniversary of Cannes Award for the first documentary ever to win, Bowling for Columbine. Michael attempted to make his acceptance speech in very labored French, and it was unclear what the locals thought of his mangled repartee.
Andie MacDowell awarded Elia Suleiman the Prix du Jury (the bronze prize.) His Divine Intervention is the first Palestinian movie in Competition.
Paul Laverty won the Best Screenplay Award for his work on Ken Loach's latest, Sweet Sixteen.
For the second year in a row, two directors shared the Best Director prize. In 2001, David Lynch and Joel Cohen shared it. This year it went to South Korean director Im Kwon-Taek for Chihwaseon, about a painter, and Paul Thomas Anderson for his dark romantic comedy Punch-Drunk Love, starring Adam Sandler.
The Best Actor award went to Belgian director Olivier Gourmet for his role in The Son from Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne. Best Actress went to Finnish performer Kati Outinen in The Man Without a Past. The movie, directed by Aki Kaurismakis, won the Grand Prix. Perhaps the silver medal wasn't good enough for him, because when he fumbled onstage to accept the award, he said, "I thank myself," and returned to his seat!
The big winner? Diminutive Roman Polanski loomed large at the festival this year. He received The Palme d'Or for The Pianist, a movie about the life of the Jewish pianist Wladyslaw Szpilman living in the Warsaw ghetto, starring Adrien Brody.
…and that's a wrap! Catch you next year live from Cannes!
FBI agent Wesley Doyle (Powers Boothe) is cold on the trail of Texas' notorious "God's Hand" serial killer until he's paid a mysterious call by solemn Fenton Meiks (Matthew McConaughey). It seems Meiks could bust the case wide open--he declares that "God's Hand"'s handiwork is that of his brother Adam and he's got a long and complicated tale to tell that'll explain it. Doyle's ears perk up and he and Meiks embark on a trip to the rose garden where Meiks claims Adam buried his victims and then killed himself. On the way Meiks reveals his gory story. It involves the boys' kindly father (Bill Paxton) who was a sensitive caring man--until he went insane one day claiming God had chosen him and his family to kill all the "demons" that inhabit Earth disguised as real people like their neighbors. Dad regularly makes a list and checks it twice for all the demon folk he needs to exterminate on any given Sunday but he's not on this holy mission alone--his sons are "God's hands" as well and together they must hunt down the demons and destroy them. In a weird variation on Cain and Abel 12-year-old Fenton rebels against Dad (killing others isn't exactly his idea of a fun after-school activity) while little brother Adam is happy to join in.
Because the movie is told mostly in flashback McConaughey is relegated mostly to voiceover and a few present-day scenes in which he acts frighteningly morose and gives the sense that there's more to his story than first meets the eye. Because most of the story takes place in 1979 the boys are the ones who really make this film work. Fenton the younger (Matthew O'Leary) is a real find--he clearly struggles with his love for his father whom he knows has gone over the edge and his repulsion for the deeds Dad is determined to have the family carry out. Wrestling with his own demons he finally is able to settle on a solution for how to stop the horror. Little Adam (Jeremy Sumpter) is quite good as the innocent youngster who adores his dad and hangs on his every word seeking only his approval and refusing to believe he has lost his mind. Paxton effectively bridges the transitions between gentle loving father and insane murderer insisting the boys finish all their veggies and revealing his next victim in one breath. He's like those killers on the news about whom people say "But…he was such a nice quiet guy." The performance almost verges on funny if it weren't so horrific.
Paxton makes an auspicious directing debut with this tight little movie keeping the action going and the plot flowing and letting you completely get to know the characters as they exist in their own eras. He deftly avoids choppy flashbacks and the potentially confusing story is perfectly clear yet no less gripping. The killing scenes are absolutely squirm-in-your-seat nightmarish but thankfully we don't see all the grisly details as with so many slasher flicks. Instead we're shown everything right up to the point of death and we're spared the splattering blood and guts. It's just enough to make you cringe and cover your eyes and ultimately far worse to imagine the outcome than to see it all in special effects and makeup. Frailty is also scarier than the typical slasher flick bloodfest--it's way more frightening to imagine the nice guy next door committing such crimes than a made-up character wearing a hockey mask or razors on his gloves. The movie also comes up with a startling twist that you don't see coming right away. But--without revealing too much--the movie falls apart at the end with some enormous problems. Sometimes directors try to explain too much; we won't so we'll just leave it at that.
How to Kill Your Neighbor's Dog is the story of acerbic curmudgeonly Peter McGowan's enlightenment a renowned critically acclaimed playwright fallen on hard times. Having knocked out a trio of Broadway blockbusters during the 1980s he is going through a dry spell though he is still considered the movie capital's most dynamic (and perhaps only) playwright. McGowan's beautiful wife exacerbates his problems putting real pressure on Peter to have children which he couldn't care less about. (He also has to deal with living with his rapidly declining mother-in-law.) And McGowan's attempts to fix up his latest production (directed by a maniacal young savant who favors old show tunes as a means of communication) are being jeopardized by his new neighbor's noisy dog which is keeping him awake at night. Ultimately Peter learns to like children thanks to the neighbor's mildly handicapped daughter fixes his play and the dog is dealt with--though not by Peter.
Kenneth Branagh playing a wordsmith is given too many words to say in the film. Most are funny some are not but Branagh is the film's comedic center and he performs that function more than adequately. Robin Wright Penn is fine as Branagh's wife/foil though she isn't given too much to do other than be happy or sad--there seems to be no in-between for her. Other actors shine brighter: David Krumholtz is hysterical as the loony director of Branagh's new play Jared Harris is too funny as Branagh's modern-day Falstaff and Suzi Hofrichter who plays the cerebral palsy-stricken Amy is a real find. (Unfortunately the laconic Peter Riegert and dumbfounded Jonathan Schaech are underused.) The highlight of the film however is Peri Gilpin's performance as the vapid TV talk show host-turned-Mike Wallace who gets her comeuppance from Branagh. Simply brilliant acting by both Gilpin and Branagh or....
...is it more wonderful writing and directing by writer/director Michael Kalesniko? That interview scene with Gilpin and Branagh is just one instance of the skillful stylized parody he uses to tell the story of a man's life in the theater in a highly theatrical style. During the course of blaming McGowan's slump on anyone but McGowan Kalesniko skewers the usual suspects: nagging wives troublesome in-laws TV news shows neurotic intellectuals lovable bums insane co-workers cynical doctors and of course the ubiquitous barking dog living next door. As Kalesniko allows McGowan to grow closer to his adorable troubled neighbor Amy the movie almost edges into predictability. Fortunately the mostly witty dialogue saves the film from too saccharine an ending rendering it a potent comedy. Ah if only Kalesniko had found someone to edit the film a little more to make it sharper and more biting.