Reviews - W., Blindness and My Name is Bruce

W. - ***

In short: An adequate, well-acted portrait, but far from a compehensive retrospective of the W. years.

It delivers what it promises without major problems. Maybe it would have worked better with a more comedic tone, but that's not ours to judge. Does it cast Bush as sympathetic? Yes, but it doesn't defend the man. All it's guilty of is major oversimplification, paying lip service to the 'good and evil' cowboy psychology behind Bush's thinking and writing off all his failings as the result of daddy issues. That makes for some good drama, but falls short of the scope of the subject, which has staunchly occupied American popular culture for the better part of a decade. A sense of scale is missing, apart from a few protests we never see more than a couple of dozen people at a time, and while this is in keeping with Bush's close-knit group of advisers, the sequence that takes us from the 'Mission Accomplished' speech to the realization that Iraq was a massive error feels glossed over. Brolin is dead on, as many have noted, but Condie Rice feels like a caricature, and Powell, fulfilling the dramatic role of devil's advocate, is made out like an unmitigated saint, which is neither accurate nor dramatically interesting. I do admire the film for pinning responsibility on Bush, as while he is portrayed as a puppet of his advisers, the 'decider' line is used to reinforce his complicity. It's not a bad film, better than it could have been, but I hope we get a more definitive document once the dust has settled.

Blindness - **1/2

In short: A solid premise and excellent visuals can't save a plodding and emotionally disconnected film.

It's a frustrating and ambivalent experience. I think the film's commitment to straight-up drama, casting aside clear opportunities to move into thriller or horror territory, was a mistake. But who needs tension or fear to hold interest when we're examining the core tenets and assumptions of our society, right? And that would be fine, only the film gives the very subtlest clues about the inner world of the characters, and this creates serious problems when those characters behave in completely nonsensical ways. Everyone who's seen a film that features a pandemic has got to be asking why Julianne Moore doesn't just turn herself over to the medical research community so we can isolate her immunity and cure the plague. Why doesn't she do that? Why doesn't anyone who knows she's immune suggest she do that? There could be perfectly reasonable answers to these questions, the film just doesn't feel it needs to address them. And frankly, that would be fine as long as it can hold my interest with character-driven drama, which it can't. I have a feeling it worked much better as a novel, where we can seamlessly enter the inner world of the characters' minds. I absolutely must applaud the visuals though, Meirelles' love of texture and contrast makes for consistently impeccable cinematography, and elevates everything else. I just feel that when the film's crucial final line has to be delivered via narration by an apparently clairvoyant Danny Glover, maybe that means you've chosen the wrong novel to film.

My Name Is Bruce - ***

In short: If you love all things Bruce Campbell, you're going to see it anyway. If you've never heard of the guy, don't bother.

And here we have a movie that seems entirely impossible to criticize. I mean, if a scene is bad, they meant it to be bad! If a joke comes off lame, they meant it that way! It's infuriating, frankly. Then there's the fact that to even be in the audience of these jokes, you'd need to be a shameless pop culture attendee. So let me just stick to what I can criticize: What seems like a pretty original idea is actually just a point-for-point rehash of Galaxy Quest, only without a trace of sincerity. Very little time is spent actually examining the difference between an on-screen persona and a real person, even though to me one of the funniest things about the film is how much of a caricature 'Bruce Campbell' is. The third act fails to reach the same intensity as the climax of the second. But hell, what am I even doing this for? If you're a Campbell fan you have to see it, and if you're not you'll wonder why anyone would be. It made me laugh anyway, but is it a bad thing when the funniest part of a film is the sly, self-mocking racism?