"Big Eyes": C-. Big Eyes is the most ridiculous drama I have seen since the
inception of The Quentin Chronicle. It also contains the poorest
rendition of a courtroom finale in recent memory. For the benefit of
those of you who decide to blow off my advice and see the flick anyway, I
will try not to spoil it for you. But, imagine the following scenario.
In
late '50's northern California, a man and a woman, neither one of whom
is famous, both claim to be artists. The man has "shyster" written all
over him. The woman is shy and lacks confidence. They get married, and
she spends most of her time in a home studio producing paintings which
become a national sensation. All of the human subjects in her pictures
feature huge eyes. Most would call the artwork "kitchy," but that's not
the case in this tale. Her husband, on the other hand, can barely
paint a stick man, but he is good at one thing in particular: as the
saying goes, he can sell ice to the Eskimos. He uses that skill to sell
his wife's work to dozens of people, including dignitaries like Dino
Olivetti. The man is a marketing genius. He soon realizes that he can
peddle even more paintings by claiming himself to be the artist. After
all, the pictures are signed "Keane," which is the surname shared by
both him and his wife. She doesn't really like the idea of him taking
credit for her work, but they're raking in so much dough that she can't
bring herself to say no.
When she finally
reaches the point where she's had enough of living a lie, she comes
forward with the truthful claim that it is she, not her husband, who
produced the famous paintings. He vehemently denies her assertion, even
suggesting that she is mentally unstable. The dispute becomes national
news. They end up in court.
Now, here comes
the $64,000 question: If you were the woman, or her attorney, what
would be the first, obvious and only thing you would need to demonstrate
in front of a judge to prove you were telling the truth? If you can't
think of the answer, then by all means go to see Big Eyes. The picture appears to be directed at those folks who think this is high drama with the outcome in doubt.
Amy
Adams does her best in the role of Margaret, the true creator of the
big-eyed portraits. Christoph Waltz, generally one of my favorite
actors, is not as effective here in the part of Walter, her husband,
because we catch on from the first line he speaks that this guy has
"used car salesman" in his blood. Waltz is more effective in roles
where there is a hint of that, instead of the sleaziness being an overt characteristic. In Big Eyes, he's not a tich off center; he's downright loopy.
Margaret
has a daughter, Jane (as a little girl played by Delaney Raye and as a
teen by Madeleine Arthur), whom Walter and Margaret try to keep in the
dark about their private secret, i.e., that Margaret is the artist and
Walter is not. As a parent of three kids and a former teacher of
teenagers for eleven years, I have to question just how well the script
writers, Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, know what teens are
like. Part of Walter's grand plan is to prevent Jane from discovering
the truth, even though Margaret's studio is in their glitzy house, right
off the living room! I don't mind a little Hollywood license
occasionally, but I have never known an able-bodied teen who would fall
for such a ruse.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Monday, December 29, 2014
Movie Review: "Unbroken"
"Unbroken": B+. Unbroken, one of the most eagerly anticipated movies of the year,
opened Christmas Day to large audiences. The movie tells the story of
Olympic track athlete Louie Zamperini, who served his country in World
War II with the Army Air Corps as a bombardier on a B-24. The first
third of the film establishes "Zam" as a kid with an adventurous spirit
who had his share of run-ins with authorities. Only his older brother,
Pete, was able to connect with him. Being a gifted runner was Louie's
ticket off the path of juvenile delinquency. Although he made the US
Olympic team for the Berlin Games in 1936, he had his sights set on the
next Olympiad, to be held in Tokyo, as his chance for a medal.
Unfortunately, the war got in the way. The competitiveness, zeal and
physical stamina which Zam drew upon to reach athletic stardom not only
served him well as a civilian, but were ingredients necessary to enable
him to survive the two major, life-threatening chapters he faced as an
airman.
The first of those was a combination of being airborne target practice for the Japanese as Zam and his mates flew overhead in their B-24 bomber, and the multi-week ordeal of being afloat in a rubber raft following a crash in the western Pacific. For personal reasons, the scenes inside the plane were my favorite sequences in this long (137 minutes) movie. The B-24's structure and interior architecture were very similar to the B-17s my father flew on eleven bombing missions over Germany. Like Zam, the Marquis was a bombardier, and as the film correctly shows, when the plane maneuvers near the target its course is actually under the direction of the bombardier, not the pilot or copilot. (By the way, the only officers on board were those three plus the navigator; the rest of the crew were enlisted men.) While the bombardier is lining up his sights, the plane is taking on both ground anti-aircraft fire and the enemy's evasive fighter jets. Inside and outside the plane, lethal bullets and rockets are everywhere. It is hard to imagine the courage it took for those airmen to risk their lives in that fashion.
The second major life-threatening event was Zam's gut-wrenching experiences as a prisoner of war on the Japanese mainland. The camp was run by a sadist, Wantanabe (Takamasa Ishihara), derisively referred to by the GIs as "the Bird," who finds out early on that one of the new prisoners is an Olympic athlete. Of course, that is Zamperini, who thereupon becomes the focus of much of Wantanabe's unwanted attention. The rules of the Geneva Convention concerning the treatment of POWs is willfully ignored. Beatings, forced labor and death threats become par for the course. We never see Wantanabe without his bamboo-wrapped cudgel, and we unsuccessfully hope that he won't use it to strike a prisoner.
The challenge facing director Angelina Jolie is familiar to any filmmaker telling a story to an audience comprised of people who already know the ultimate outcome, if not many of the details. Even if we did not know whatever happened to Zam, the film's title is, itself, a giveaway. Thus, Jolie's accomplishment in providing us a gripping account of the almost unbelievable heroic story is all the more extremely impressive.
Equally impressive is the film's editing, a combined effort by director Jolie and editors William Goldenberg and Tim Squyres. For example, Zam and some of his mates were afloat on the raft for forty-seven days, a length of time almost impossible to fathom -- no pun intended. During that ordeal they had to withstand hunger, thirst, shark attacks, violent storms and a relentless sun. The movie stays on this chapter just long enough for us to appreciate the hardship without turning the story into a "lost at sea" marathon. In a similar vein, Jolie leaves no doubt as to the cruelty inflicted upon Zam by the Bird, but does not go overboard with guts and gore (unlike, say, Quentin Tarantino in 2012's Django Unchained).
The casting for Unbroken is noteworthy for a couple of reasons. Jack O'Connell, a mostly unknown English actor picked to play Zamperini, hits the mark in every scene. Fifteen year old newcomer C.J. Valleroy, cast as young Zam, bears an uncanny resemblance to O'Connell. But Jolie's choice of Ishihara to fill the role of the Bird is generating the most buzz. In his native Japan, Ishihara is a rock star who goes by the name of Miyavi. Jolie had to talk him into accepting the part. His soft sad eyes and smooth voice set us up for a surprise when, as the camp commander, he turns into an inhumane thug.
The first of those was a combination of being airborne target practice for the Japanese as Zam and his mates flew overhead in their B-24 bomber, and the multi-week ordeal of being afloat in a rubber raft following a crash in the western Pacific. For personal reasons, the scenes inside the plane were my favorite sequences in this long (137 minutes) movie. The B-24's structure and interior architecture were very similar to the B-17s my father flew on eleven bombing missions over Germany. Like Zam, the Marquis was a bombardier, and as the film correctly shows, when the plane maneuvers near the target its course is actually under the direction of the bombardier, not the pilot or copilot. (By the way, the only officers on board were those three plus the navigator; the rest of the crew were enlisted men.) While the bombardier is lining up his sights, the plane is taking on both ground anti-aircraft fire and the enemy's evasive fighter jets. Inside and outside the plane, lethal bullets and rockets are everywhere. It is hard to imagine the courage it took for those airmen to risk their lives in that fashion.
The second major life-threatening event was Zam's gut-wrenching experiences as a prisoner of war on the Japanese mainland. The camp was run by a sadist, Wantanabe (Takamasa Ishihara), derisively referred to by the GIs as "the Bird," who finds out early on that one of the new prisoners is an Olympic athlete. Of course, that is Zamperini, who thereupon becomes the focus of much of Wantanabe's unwanted attention. The rules of the Geneva Convention concerning the treatment of POWs is willfully ignored. Beatings, forced labor and death threats become par for the course. We never see Wantanabe without his bamboo-wrapped cudgel, and we unsuccessfully hope that he won't use it to strike a prisoner.
The challenge facing director Angelina Jolie is familiar to any filmmaker telling a story to an audience comprised of people who already know the ultimate outcome, if not many of the details. Even if we did not know whatever happened to Zam, the film's title is, itself, a giveaway. Thus, Jolie's accomplishment in providing us a gripping account of the almost unbelievable heroic story is all the more extremely impressive.
Equally impressive is the film's editing, a combined effort by director Jolie and editors William Goldenberg and Tim Squyres. For example, Zam and some of his mates were afloat on the raft for forty-seven days, a length of time almost impossible to fathom -- no pun intended. During that ordeal they had to withstand hunger, thirst, shark attacks, violent storms and a relentless sun. The movie stays on this chapter just long enough for us to appreciate the hardship without turning the story into a "lost at sea" marathon. In a similar vein, Jolie leaves no doubt as to the cruelty inflicted upon Zam by the Bird, but does not go overboard with guts and gore (unlike, say, Quentin Tarantino in 2012's Django Unchained).
The casting for Unbroken is noteworthy for a couple of reasons. Jack O'Connell, a mostly unknown English actor picked to play Zamperini, hits the mark in every scene. Fifteen year old newcomer C.J. Valleroy, cast as young Zam, bears an uncanny resemblance to O'Connell. But Jolie's choice of Ishihara to fill the role of the Bird is generating the most buzz. In his native Japan, Ishihara is a rock star who goes by the name of Miyavi. Jolie had to talk him into accepting the part. His soft sad eyes and smooth voice set us up for a surprise when, as the camp commander, he turns into an inhumane thug.
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Album Review: "Melody Road" - Neil Diamond
"Melody Road": A. When Neil Diamond and his wife of twenty-five years, Marcia Murphey,
ended their marriage in 1995, the settlement resulted in the singer
shelling out $150 million in alimony. That unhappy occurrence ranks as
the fourth most expensive American celebrity divorce in history, behind
only those of Michael Jordan, Arnold Swarzenegger and Mel Gibson. Many
of Diamond's fans rightfully wondered if he would ever tie the knot
again -- Murphey was his second wife -- and whether the experience might
sour him on love to the point where it would adversely affect his
songwriting. Those questions were finally answered in 2012, when
Diamond married production assistant Katie McNeil, twenty-nine years his
junior, and a few weeks ago, when he released Melody Road. Apparently love and marriage agree with the crooner, as this new album is one of his best.
Although the sequencing of tracks might lead the listener to conclude that Melody Road is not a concept album, there is no denying that the common threads of love, hope and appreciation permeate throughout. Two of my favorites are third person tales of romantic pairs. Seongah And Jimmy tells the story of two kids, a Korean girl and a Long Island guy, meeting and falling in love in Brooklyn. They learn about each other's native culture at the same time they are getting to know one another as a partner. Love has more than one language.
He says "I love you," she knows he means it,
Although the sequencing of tracks might lead the listener to conclude that Melody Road is not a concept album, there is no denying that the common threads of love, hope and appreciation permeate throughout. Two of my favorites are third person tales of romantic pairs. Seongah And Jimmy tells the story of two kids, a Korean girl and a Long Island guy, meeting and falling in love in Brooklyn. They learn about each other's native culture at the same time they are getting to know one another as a partner. Love has more than one language.
He says "I love you," she knows he means it,
She says "Sarang-hae," he knows she means it too.
Similarly, Sunny Disposition is a story of a twosome's beginnings. Just as in Seongah And Jimmy,
at first blush one would not pick the two individuals to have a love
connection. He "had a cloud that never went away," while she, as the
song's title says, "had a sunny disposition." Made for each other?
Hardly, until he saw the light and came around to her way of thinking.
The female saves the day once again in Something Blue. This tune presents the same original predicament as Sunny Disposition,
although it is sung from a first person perspective. The male singer
was in the dumps until she pulled him out of it. Now he expresses his
gratitude.
You showed me what a little bit of love can do…
Took me to a place I never knew.
Goodbye to my little bit of something blue.
As I alluded to above (and as I also alluded to in my March 28, 2012 review of the Bruce Springsteen album Wrecking Ball), a true concept album should have a definite logic to the pattern of its track sequence. The sequencing of Melody Road throws a curve ball at us by placing two songs, In Better Days and especially Nothing But A Heartache,
in the middle of the playlist. Both of those numbers should,
rightfully, be at the beginning of the album, because they point to a
previous relationship, not the one that has inspired most of the rest of
the album. From the latter, directed to his new love and clearly
referencing a lost love:
Was a one way conversation
I never got the invitation
the sharpness of her words deceiving
and I couldn't stop the bleeding.
Nothing But A Heartache also contains the following great lyrics:
Lord I tried to be forgiving
but getting by don't mean you're living.
I also love this metaphor from the same song:
… on that highway going nowhere
was an exit overdue.
A mystery surrounding the negative tone of Nothing But A Heartache
is that Diamond has publicly admitted that the dissolution of his long
marriage to Murphey was almost entirely his fault. Perhaps the song is
not a slam against Murphey but some other failed love interest. Equally
likely is that the song recollects a fictitious flame.
In Better Days
is sung to his ex, bemoaning the fact that they were happiest when they
"didn't have a dime between us." The relationship was unable to find a
balance between gleam of success and the grind of simplicity.
There are many other worthy songs on this new album. Poignant lyrics prevail. The Art Of Love, classic Diamond and for my money the best song on the album, is simply beautiful and meaningful.
… love's not what you have
but what you give,
and the art of love is
who you share it with.
The orchestration throughout the collection is superior, including the ethereal keyboards and chimes in (OOO) Do I Wanna Be Yours, and the ragtime brass instruments in Marry Me Now.
Most importantly, Diamond's voice sounds like he's in mid-career form.
To have a performer gifted with his song-writing ability and his vocal
talent is certainly a rarity. Even the great Tony Bennett does not
write his own music.
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Movie Review: "Fury"
"Fury": C. I guess I am a sucker for attending super-hyped war movies starring
matinee idols. In May I caved in to the multitude of promotions and saw
Monuments Men, featuring George Clooney as the leader of a
GI troop with a mission to save priceless art confiscated by the
Germans. Ho hum; B- (reviewed on May 9). A few days ago, more or less
the same thing happened. Fury was heavily promoted as a World
War II story starring Brad Pitt. For a $2.50 investment at Hopkins
Theater, I thought it was worth a gamble. War stories are a film genre I
like, and some of them (The Dirty Dozen, Apocalypse Now, and my gold standard, The Deer Hunter) are among my all-time favorites of any kind. I am sad to report that Fury is not in that august company. I can't, in good conscience, rate it higher than a C.
The movie follows a five man tank group, led by tough guy Sergeant Don Collier (Pitt). The title of the movie is the name of their tank, painted in white on the long gun protruding from the vehicle's front. Despite its length of 135 minutes, the story basically takes place over three scenes, all behind enemy lines inside Germany: the rescue mission of other GIs who are playing dead while under fire in an open meadow, the invasion of a small village providing lots of hiding places for the bad guys, and the defense of a countryside crossroads for the purpose of keeping the Germans from making their way to a distant American supply line. For the most part, each of these scenes is independent of the other two, and consume too many minutes of viewing time.
As you would expect from a war movie, there are a fair number of gun battles, but their staging is not impressive. One problem is that the focus is always on Pitt, who does not, himself, shoot any of the tank's weapons; he merely instructs his four underlings where to aim. If it is true that soldiers manning tank weaponry needed their superior to tell them whom to shoot, it is a miracle we won the war. Another problem is the annoying habit of saying everything at least twice. "Watch out for the tree line! Watch out for the tree line!" Or, "Krauts at ten o'clock! Krauts at ten o'clock!" It reminded me of coaching youth baseball games, when I could hear the players' parents yelling from the grandstand. "It only takes one, Billy. It only takes one!" Or, "You can do it, number seven. You can do it!"
I usually like Pitt as an actor, but it seems he mailed this one in. There are several scenes when the viewer expects him to say something forceful, perhaps even witty, but instead he strikes a silent pose, sometimes even displaying a goofy face. Is this acting? Casting Shia LaBeouf as a hardened army veteran is also questionable. He comes across more as a short order cook at Liquor Lyle's. Perhaps I'd have a problem with LaBeouf being cast in any movie.
The only interesting character in the bunch is the greenhorn newcomer, Norman Ellison (Logan Lerman). Trained for clerical duty, he is nevertheless assigned to man a gun inside Fury, the tank. "I was trained to type sixty words a minute, not to kill people," he protests to Sergeant Collier. Of course, as soon as those words part his lips, you know he is going to have to do just that, maybe more than once. Collier's words of advice to Ellison are, "Do what you're told. Don't get too close," meaning don't get too personally attached to your colleagues, because they might die in a flash right before your eyes.
Predictability is a problem with any movie, especially war movies, and Fury has its share of it. The movie also falls victim to portraying the Germans as imbecilic opponents, especially in the last act. Are we to believe that a company of over a hundred jerries can't figure out how to put an American tank out of commission?
If you have an extra moment, go back and read the last paragraph of my June 25, 2014 review of Jersey Boys. The topic of that paragraph is ensemble movies. Jersey Boys is the story of the four guys who comprised the singing group the Four Seasons. Fury is the story of a five man tank group. Fury is the antithesis of Jersey Boys. That, in a nutshell, explains why the music movie is a triumph while the war movie is not.
The movie follows a five man tank group, led by tough guy Sergeant Don Collier (Pitt). The title of the movie is the name of their tank, painted in white on the long gun protruding from the vehicle's front. Despite its length of 135 minutes, the story basically takes place over three scenes, all behind enemy lines inside Germany: the rescue mission of other GIs who are playing dead while under fire in an open meadow, the invasion of a small village providing lots of hiding places for the bad guys, and the defense of a countryside crossroads for the purpose of keeping the Germans from making their way to a distant American supply line. For the most part, each of these scenes is independent of the other two, and consume too many minutes of viewing time.
As you would expect from a war movie, there are a fair number of gun battles, but their staging is not impressive. One problem is that the focus is always on Pitt, who does not, himself, shoot any of the tank's weapons; he merely instructs his four underlings where to aim. If it is true that soldiers manning tank weaponry needed their superior to tell them whom to shoot, it is a miracle we won the war. Another problem is the annoying habit of saying everything at least twice. "Watch out for the tree line! Watch out for the tree line!" Or, "Krauts at ten o'clock! Krauts at ten o'clock!" It reminded me of coaching youth baseball games, when I could hear the players' parents yelling from the grandstand. "It only takes one, Billy. It only takes one!" Or, "You can do it, number seven. You can do it!"
I usually like Pitt as an actor, but it seems he mailed this one in. There are several scenes when the viewer expects him to say something forceful, perhaps even witty, but instead he strikes a silent pose, sometimes even displaying a goofy face. Is this acting? Casting Shia LaBeouf as a hardened army veteran is also questionable. He comes across more as a short order cook at Liquor Lyle's. Perhaps I'd have a problem with LaBeouf being cast in any movie.
The only interesting character in the bunch is the greenhorn newcomer, Norman Ellison (Logan Lerman). Trained for clerical duty, he is nevertheless assigned to man a gun inside Fury, the tank. "I was trained to type sixty words a minute, not to kill people," he protests to Sergeant Collier. Of course, as soon as those words part his lips, you know he is going to have to do just that, maybe more than once. Collier's words of advice to Ellison are, "Do what you're told. Don't get too close," meaning don't get too personally attached to your colleagues, because they might die in a flash right before your eyes.
Predictability is a problem with any movie, especially war movies, and Fury has its share of it. The movie also falls victim to portraying the Germans as imbecilic opponents, especially in the last act. Are we to believe that a company of over a hundred jerries can't figure out how to put an American tank out of commission?
If you have an extra moment, go back and read the last paragraph of my June 25, 2014 review of Jersey Boys. The topic of that paragraph is ensemble movies. Jersey Boys is the story of the four guys who comprised the singing group the Four Seasons. Fury is the story of a five man tank group. Fury is the antithesis of Jersey Boys. That, in a nutshell, explains why the music movie is a triumph while the war movie is not.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Movie Review: "The Judge"
"The Judge": B+. Courtroom dramas are hard scripts to sell to audiences convincingly if
authenticity is a goal of the moviemakers. The main obstacles are the
abundance of evidentiary rules and rules of civil procedure which are
important components in actual litigation. Most civil and criminal
trials are not nearly as interesting in real life as Hollywood portrays
them. For example, surprise witnesses, which seem to constitute a
staple of Hollywood trials, almost never materialize in real life,
because the court's procedural rules not only require each side to
disclose its witness list ahead of trial, but to reveal essentially what
each witness will state under oath. Another stark contrast is that in a
real criminal trial, the defendant's lawyer's sole mission is to
convince the jury that reasonable doubt exists, thereby resulting in a
not-guilty verdict. It is important to note that there's a big
difference in the eyes of the law between "not guilty" and "innocent."
In Hollywood films, that distinction is often lost. There, the defense
attorney usually not only gets his client off the hook, but solves the
crime too by identifying the real bad guy, a la Perry Mason. In short,
the filmmakers bend the rules a little bit for the purpose of engaging
the audience.
When I choose a courtroom drama for my movie selection, I want to be entertained just like everybody else. But I also want what's portrayed on screen to bear strong resemblance to what would transpire in real life if presented with the same facts. In other words, to borrow a phrase often used by my father when he saw a war movie which was ridiculously inauthentic, I don't want to see a legal "fairy story." One of the characteristics I appreciated while watching The Judge is that, for the most part, it is not a fairy story.
The tone is set early on when Hank Palmer (Robert Downey, Jr.) is packing to travel from Chicago to fictional Carlinville, Indiana for his mother's funeral. He tries to distinguish for his inquisitive little daughter the difference between his mother, who is biologically dead, and his father, "who is dead to me. It's just a figure of speech." The father to whom he refers is also the title character, Judge Joseph Palmer (Robert Duvall), a veteran of almost forty years on the bench. Although his courthouse is in a small river town far removed from the national legal scene, Judge Palmer's constant concern is the legacy he will leave behind once he no longer possesses the gavel. He compares himself to Ronald Reagan, whom the judge believes should be remembered as a great president who presided over the end of the Cold War, instead of the White House occupant who enjoyed frequent naps and ate jelly beans. The judge takes his job seriously and is well respected, if not feared, throughout Carlinville, yet he's haunted by a sentencing decision he made years ago which will indirectly lead to his own freedom and reputation being put at risk.
In addition to Hank, Judge Palmer has two other adult sons who both live in town. Glen (Vincent D'Onofrio), the oldest, was a promising pitcher whose career was cut short as a result of an automobile accident, the details of which we learn piecemeal. The youngest, Dale (Jeremy Strong), is autistic but high functioning. His hobby is shooting and editing sixteen millimeter film. At times Dale draws his family's sympathy, other times its scorn.
Hank Palmer is a sharp but shady defense attorney, whose compliance with the ethical expectations of the bar is borderline. "Innocent clients can't afford me," he tells opposing counsel during a testy men's room conversation. One would think that high roller Hank would book himself a room in a nice local hotel, but then that would eliminate several of the family interactions among the brothers and their father. Instead, Hank bunks down in the judge's big old house. He hates being in Carlinville, and can hardly wait to fly back to Chicago. But after his mother's funeral he gets an SOS call from Glen minutes before the plane's scheduled departure. Their father has been accused of a felony, and Glen (unbeknownst to the judge) persuades Hank that the old man needs Hank's services.
The best moments in the film take place in the courtroom. The prosecutor is not the County Attorney, but a hot shot prosecutor from Gary, Dwight Dickham (Billy Bob Thornton), who is equipped to match wits with the Chicago trial ace. It turns out Dickham has some history with Hank. Billy Bob looks quite dashing in his trial togs, and is convincing as a skilled barrister. The criminal trial judge, Judge Warren, is played by none other than The White Shadow himself, Ken Howard. One of the several humorous segments occurs during the voir dire (aka jury selection), when people from the jury pool are selected or rejected for the trial. Hank does not ask them the usual questions, preferring instead to inquire about what their vehicle bumper stickers state. One man in the pool claims that his bumper sticker reads, "Gun control means two hands on the revolver." Hank accepts him without further questions.
We are also treated to a subplot involving Hank and his old high school flame, Samantha (Vera Farmiga), who is the owner of The Firefly, a busy watering hole. Samantha is the mother of Carla (Leighton Meester), a law school student whom Hank gets to know up close and personal in a phone booth. There are some nice moments between Samantha and Hank, but their scenes together are not essential to the story. One note of interest is that Farmiga, at age forty-one, is only thirteen years older than Meester. Well, they both do look younger than their ages. No wonder they're actresses.
When I choose a courtroom drama for my movie selection, I want to be entertained just like everybody else. But I also want what's portrayed on screen to bear strong resemblance to what would transpire in real life if presented with the same facts. In other words, to borrow a phrase often used by my father when he saw a war movie which was ridiculously inauthentic, I don't want to see a legal "fairy story." One of the characteristics I appreciated while watching The Judge is that, for the most part, it is not a fairy story.
The tone is set early on when Hank Palmer (Robert Downey, Jr.) is packing to travel from Chicago to fictional Carlinville, Indiana for his mother's funeral. He tries to distinguish for his inquisitive little daughter the difference between his mother, who is biologically dead, and his father, "who is dead to me. It's just a figure of speech." The father to whom he refers is also the title character, Judge Joseph Palmer (Robert Duvall), a veteran of almost forty years on the bench. Although his courthouse is in a small river town far removed from the national legal scene, Judge Palmer's constant concern is the legacy he will leave behind once he no longer possesses the gavel. He compares himself to Ronald Reagan, whom the judge believes should be remembered as a great president who presided over the end of the Cold War, instead of the White House occupant who enjoyed frequent naps and ate jelly beans. The judge takes his job seriously and is well respected, if not feared, throughout Carlinville, yet he's haunted by a sentencing decision he made years ago which will indirectly lead to his own freedom and reputation being put at risk.
In addition to Hank, Judge Palmer has two other adult sons who both live in town. Glen (Vincent D'Onofrio), the oldest, was a promising pitcher whose career was cut short as a result of an automobile accident, the details of which we learn piecemeal. The youngest, Dale (Jeremy Strong), is autistic but high functioning. His hobby is shooting and editing sixteen millimeter film. At times Dale draws his family's sympathy, other times its scorn.
Hank Palmer is a sharp but shady defense attorney, whose compliance with the ethical expectations of the bar is borderline. "Innocent clients can't afford me," he tells opposing counsel during a testy men's room conversation. One would think that high roller Hank would book himself a room in a nice local hotel, but then that would eliminate several of the family interactions among the brothers and their father. Instead, Hank bunks down in the judge's big old house. He hates being in Carlinville, and can hardly wait to fly back to Chicago. But after his mother's funeral he gets an SOS call from Glen minutes before the plane's scheduled departure. Their father has been accused of a felony, and Glen (unbeknownst to the judge) persuades Hank that the old man needs Hank's services.
The best moments in the film take place in the courtroom. The prosecutor is not the County Attorney, but a hot shot prosecutor from Gary, Dwight Dickham (Billy Bob Thornton), who is equipped to match wits with the Chicago trial ace. It turns out Dickham has some history with Hank. Billy Bob looks quite dashing in his trial togs, and is convincing as a skilled barrister. The criminal trial judge, Judge Warren, is played by none other than The White Shadow himself, Ken Howard. One of the several humorous segments occurs during the voir dire (aka jury selection), when people from the jury pool are selected or rejected for the trial. Hank does not ask them the usual questions, preferring instead to inquire about what their vehicle bumper stickers state. One man in the pool claims that his bumper sticker reads, "Gun control means two hands on the revolver." Hank accepts him without further questions.
We are also treated to a subplot involving Hank and his old high school flame, Samantha (Vera Farmiga), who is the owner of The Firefly, a busy watering hole. Samantha is the mother of Carla (Leighton Meester), a law school student whom Hank gets to know up close and personal in a phone booth. There are some nice moments between Samantha and Hank, but their scenes together are not essential to the story. One note of interest is that Farmiga, at age forty-one, is only thirteen years older than Meester. Well, they both do look younger than their ages. No wonder they're actresses.
Friday, December 5, 2014
Conflicts Of Interest Mar College Football
Imagine your job puts you in a position where you have a lot of
discretion regarding the decisions you make. One day you are faced with
a tough decision requiring an instantaneous verdict. If you rule one
way, your employer will make approximately $18 million with a good chance at $40
million. If you rule the opposite way, instead of $40 million, the
revenue will be approximately $5 million, at best, and more likely
around $2 million. Oh, yeah, there's one other component of this
scenario: There are millions of people watching in real time as you
perform your duty. Do you think you would be up to the task?
That is precisely what awaits the officials for the four major conference title games this weekend. You might recall the brilliant explanation of the new college football playoffs contained in my August 28 post (Musical Chairs, Football Style). In that post I explained how a "select" committee of thirteen people was going to chose the four teams to play in a playoff format for the national championship. (One panelist, Archie Manning, had to resign for health reasons, so the committee ended up being comprised of twelve members.) The committee's decision will be announced this Sunday. In the meantime, starting tonight, four of the five so-called Power 5 conferences (i.e., all but the Big 12 Conference, which does not have a title game) will hold their championship games on neutral fields. Let's take a quick look at what's at stake.
SEC Conference. This game, to be played in Atlanta, pits SEC West Division champ Alabama against SEC East Division champ Missouri. (Yes, you read that correctly; Missouri is in the east!). Alabama is currently ranked # 1 according to the committee's latest poll, which was released three days ago. If 'Bama wins, they are a shoo-in to be chosen for the four-team playoff. If the Crimson Tide gets upset by Mizzou, there is an excellent chance that the SEC will not have any team in the playoffs, especially if the favorites in this weekend's other big games win as predicted. Currently, Missouri is ranked relatively low at # 16. The second highest SEC school is Mississippi State at # 10. Mizzou and Mississippi State are too far back to jump other teams to reach the top four. The result of having no SEC team in the playoffs would be flabbergasting, because the SEC is universally considered the best conference in the world of college football. In fact, about five weeks ago, three of the committee's top four teams were SEC schools. If Alabama loses tomorrow, the best hope for the SEC is that the committee only drops them down to # 4, an unlikely result since, at that point, 'Bama would be a two-loss team.
PAC 12 Conference. This game features PAC 12 North champ Oregon versus PAC 12 South champ Arizona. The site is Santa Clara, California. The analysis here is pretty close to that for the SEC. If Oregon wins, it's a lock for the playoffs. At its current # 2 ranking, it is a heavy favorite. A Wildcat win probably leaves the PAC 12 without a playoff team. My guess is that Arizona at #7 is likely too far back to jump other teams up to the top four, and Oregon would be a two-loss team.
ACC. The Atlantic Coast Conference championship will be played tomorrow in Charlotte. Florida State, the Atlantic Division champ, is the sole undefeated major college team, but they are only ranked # 4. They allegedly run a dirty program, and my guess is that the committee will drop them like a rock if they lose to Georgia Tech, the Coastal Division champ. Georgia Tech, at # 11, has virtually no shot at making the playoffs, even with a win over the 'Noles.
Big 10: This is the only one of the four major conference championship games which does not have a team currently in the top four. However, Ohio State is poised at # 5 to claim a playoff spot if at least one of the four teams above it (Alabama, Oregon, Texas Christian or Florida State) loses. The Buckeyes' opponent is Wisconsin, currently ranked # 13. Just like Missouri and Georgia Tech -- and possibly Arizona -- a conference championship does not guarantee a playoff berth for the Badgers. They are too far back and already have two losses. Ironically, Wisconsin is a slight favorite to beat Ohio State, because State's two best quarterbacks have injuries which will deprive them of playing.
Now, back to my point. The payout per team for the two playoff semi-finals (this season, the Rose Bowl and the Sugar Bowl) is $18 million. The payout per team for the college football championship game, to be played in Arlington on January 12, is a cool $22 million. According to my North Dakota high school math, therefore, each of the two teams making it to Arlington will be paid a total of $40 million, the lion's share of which goes to those schools' respective conferences to be split among all its member schools. The highest payout for any bowl outside of the four-team playoff is the Citrus Bowl on New Year's Day, with a payout per team of $4.25 million.
In summary, for the first three championship games described above, if the favorites (Alabama, Oregon and Florida State) win, their respective conferences are practically assured of benefiting to the tune of at least $18 million, and possibly $40 million. If any of the underdogs (Missouri, Arizona and Georgia Tech) win, their conferences can probably kiss the mega bucks goodbye, because those winners will not make the playoffs. Regarding the Big 10 title game, that conference's only realistic hope for the two huge paydays is for Ohio State to win.
In college football, referees are employed by a conference, and each conference obviously uses one of its own crews for their title games. Contrast this with professional sports, which employ their game officials on a national basis, without consideration to a particular league or conference. For example, Major League Baseball might use a certain umpiring crew for a National League series, and then send that crew to another city to work an American League series.
So, put yourself in this situation. You are a back judge on the SEC crew which is assigned to work the SEC title game tomorrow night. Your main job is to decide, in a split second, whether there is pass interference on any passing play. Alabama has the ball, 4th down on the Mizzou 35 yard line. Missouri is winning, 24 to 20, and there are only three seconds left in the game; time for only one more play. The ball is snapped, the Alabama receiver and the Missouri cornerback are hand-checking each other all the way downfield as the quarterback lofts the ball toward the end zone. Theoretically, each player is entitled to go for the ball, but whether the Missouri DB is being too aggressive is up to you. Do you, as the back judge, think about who signs your paycheck? Do you think about the fact that an Alabama loss means no $40 million pot of gold for the SEC? Is this not a conflict of interest? Even if you decide to throw the flag in good faith, is there not the appearance of a conflict of interest?
It is time for major college football to end the conference alliance of game officials. There should be one national referees association, just like there is for professional sports.
That is precisely what awaits the officials for the four major conference title games this weekend. You might recall the brilliant explanation of the new college football playoffs contained in my August 28 post (Musical Chairs, Football Style). In that post I explained how a "select" committee of thirteen people was going to chose the four teams to play in a playoff format for the national championship. (One panelist, Archie Manning, had to resign for health reasons, so the committee ended up being comprised of twelve members.) The committee's decision will be announced this Sunday. In the meantime, starting tonight, four of the five so-called Power 5 conferences (i.e., all but the Big 12 Conference, which does not have a title game) will hold their championship games on neutral fields. Let's take a quick look at what's at stake.
SEC Conference. This game, to be played in Atlanta, pits SEC West Division champ Alabama against SEC East Division champ Missouri. (Yes, you read that correctly; Missouri is in the east!). Alabama is currently ranked # 1 according to the committee's latest poll, which was released three days ago. If 'Bama wins, they are a shoo-in to be chosen for the four-team playoff. If the Crimson Tide gets upset by Mizzou, there is an excellent chance that the SEC will not have any team in the playoffs, especially if the favorites in this weekend's other big games win as predicted. Currently, Missouri is ranked relatively low at # 16. The second highest SEC school is Mississippi State at # 10. Mizzou and Mississippi State are too far back to jump other teams to reach the top four. The result of having no SEC team in the playoffs would be flabbergasting, because the SEC is universally considered the best conference in the world of college football. In fact, about five weeks ago, three of the committee's top four teams were SEC schools. If Alabama loses tomorrow, the best hope for the SEC is that the committee only drops them down to # 4, an unlikely result since, at that point, 'Bama would be a two-loss team.
PAC 12 Conference. This game features PAC 12 North champ Oregon versus PAC 12 South champ Arizona. The site is Santa Clara, California. The analysis here is pretty close to that for the SEC. If Oregon wins, it's a lock for the playoffs. At its current # 2 ranking, it is a heavy favorite. A Wildcat win probably leaves the PAC 12 without a playoff team. My guess is that Arizona at #7 is likely too far back to jump other teams up to the top four, and Oregon would be a two-loss team.
ACC. The Atlantic Coast Conference championship will be played tomorrow in Charlotte. Florida State, the Atlantic Division champ, is the sole undefeated major college team, but they are only ranked # 4. They allegedly run a dirty program, and my guess is that the committee will drop them like a rock if they lose to Georgia Tech, the Coastal Division champ. Georgia Tech, at # 11, has virtually no shot at making the playoffs, even with a win over the 'Noles.
Big 10: This is the only one of the four major conference championship games which does not have a team currently in the top four. However, Ohio State is poised at # 5 to claim a playoff spot if at least one of the four teams above it (Alabama, Oregon, Texas Christian or Florida State) loses. The Buckeyes' opponent is Wisconsin, currently ranked # 13. Just like Missouri and Georgia Tech -- and possibly Arizona -- a conference championship does not guarantee a playoff berth for the Badgers. They are too far back and already have two losses. Ironically, Wisconsin is a slight favorite to beat Ohio State, because State's two best quarterbacks have injuries which will deprive them of playing.
Now, back to my point. The payout per team for the two playoff semi-finals (this season, the Rose Bowl and the Sugar Bowl) is $18 million. The payout per team for the college football championship game, to be played in Arlington on January 12, is a cool $22 million. According to my North Dakota high school math, therefore, each of the two teams making it to Arlington will be paid a total of $40 million, the lion's share of which goes to those schools' respective conferences to be split among all its member schools. The highest payout for any bowl outside of the four-team playoff is the Citrus Bowl on New Year's Day, with a payout per team of $4.25 million.
In summary, for the first three championship games described above, if the favorites (Alabama, Oregon and Florida State) win, their respective conferences are practically assured of benefiting to the tune of at least $18 million, and possibly $40 million. If any of the underdogs (Missouri, Arizona and Georgia Tech) win, their conferences can probably kiss the mega bucks goodbye, because those winners will not make the playoffs. Regarding the Big 10 title game, that conference's only realistic hope for the two huge paydays is for Ohio State to win.
In college football, referees are employed by a conference, and each conference obviously uses one of its own crews for their title games. Contrast this with professional sports, which employ their game officials on a national basis, without consideration to a particular league or conference. For example, Major League Baseball might use a certain umpiring crew for a National League series, and then send that crew to another city to work an American League series.
So, put yourself in this situation. You are a back judge on the SEC crew which is assigned to work the SEC title game tomorrow night. Your main job is to decide, in a split second, whether there is pass interference on any passing play. Alabama has the ball, 4th down on the Mizzou 35 yard line. Missouri is winning, 24 to 20, and there are only three seconds left in the game; time for only one more play. The ball is snapped, the Alabama receiver and the Missouri cornerback are hand-checking each other all the way downfield as the quarterback lofts the ball toward the end zone. Theoretically, each player is entitled to go for the ball, but whether the Missouri DB is being too aggressive is up to you. Do you, as the back judge, think about who signs your paycheck? Do you think about the fact that an Alabama loss means no $40 million pot of gold for the SEC? Is this not a conflict of interest? Even if you decide to throw the flag in good faith, is there not the appearance of a conflict of interest?
It is time for major college football to end the conference alliance of game officials. There should be one national referees association, just like there is for professional sports.
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