The stress of this particular week and the fast approaching Oscars forces me to address the nominees a bit more quickly than I initially intended. My write-ups will more than likely not measure up the length of coverage I gave Moneyball and The Help -- and considering I already covered Tree of Life, I doubt I will again.
That having been said, let's dive into the Daldry.
Extremely Loud strikes me as one of the most critically misunderstood films of the year. Were it up to me it would have been one of the five and Daldry would most certainly have a directing nod. The fact that this adaptation of Jonathan Safron Foer's novel has met with mixed reception is not exactly a surprise -- but this should not give those who've not yet seen it the impression that it's a mixed bag of a film: truth be told, it's nothing short of excellent.
Yes, you have to be someone who is wiling to submerge yourself into the world of Daldry and someone who enjoys the way in which he constructs his films. Considering those films are The Reader, The Hours, and Billy Elliot, that's not a ridiculous request. The man is one of the top directors working and all four of his films has delivered straight down the line. Extremely is no exception. In fact, I would argue that as Daldry vies more and more for the chance to be heralded as the best British director -- considering the loss of Anthony Minghella and the fact that Mendes has been floundering of late. Additionally, Daldry, as I mentioned in my brief coverage of my personal top dozen or so films this year, has taken on the responsibility of bringing masterpieces of modern literature to the screen -- and doing so in a way that doesn't violate the intentions of the original text. To have done so with material as varied as The Hours, The Reader, and Extremely Loud is remarkable. There isn't a wobbly piece in any of his films. One just has to be prepared for the depth.
With Extremely Loud, the maestro has melded the strengths of The Hours and The Reader with his expert child-directing skills so evident in every form of Billy Elliot -- be it stage or screen. But here is where the film runs into its controversy and where there is a blatant -- nay, irresponsible reaction from critics who should be approaching a piece this sophisticated with more intelligence.
No, this kid is not Billy Elliot. He's not hammering out his coal town woes by kicking down the alleyway to some tough and tumble T-Rex. Nor is this kid Jamie Bell -- someone who hooks us all the moment we look into his eyes and who makes the audience fall in love with him by simply choosing to shadow dance with the heavy bag rather than throwing a few quick punches. The boy is a find the likes of Christian Bale and has proven to be far warmer as the years have gone by.
But that is not what Extremely Loud called for -- and Daldry had the balls to know it and a kid with the innate chops to pull it off. Whether Thomas Horn - the young chap playing Oskar Schell - was merely the kid "Jeopardy" star who mimics this character best -- already having his personality -- or whether he's an expert actor who got right into the groove of Schell and heeded the words of Daldry is something only those who worked on the film will ever know. And frankly, who gives a damn? In the end, he pulls it off remarkably.
Is this the warmest kid under the sun? Do you want him to challenge his father face to face in a tutu and be the charmingest little kid there ever was? Well -- if you do, then you should rent Billy Elliot. This kid is a different beast entirely and he hits this role square between the eyes. He is a special needs kid of undefined diagnosis that is absolutely on the autism spectrum. Any critic who claimed he was "precocious" or "unlikable" is nothing short of a jackass. I try to keep these reviews somewhere within the realm of decorum -- but sometimes braying brainless jackass who'd be better of trapped on Pleasure Island is the most accurate way to categorize irresponsible "journalists" who have absolutely no experience with the ever-growing population of special needs children who are more demanding, a bit icy, perhaps too direct and fact driven -- but just as much in need of love and warmth as anyone walking the earth. Way to be the adult who has no problem disliking a child that's more difficult to handle and to take the shortcut to thinking this consequently makes him more difficult to love. Children are easy to love. Their lives are normally simple. When their internal structures are heartbreakingly complicated, it's a call for more from us "grown-ups," not an invitation to cast them aside and write off their plight.
It behooves me to point out that this Thomas Horn's Oskar Schell needs no great decoding. He is clearly this boy - trapped within himself, struggling to make sense of a complex world where cut and dry facts don't work in all aspects of everyday life. For the most part -- Schell's mission is to take the over-stimulation of life and to narrow it down even more than the most myopic of us. Wouldn't that be the quest of any person whose system is on overload? Horn does this with mere speech patterns - a stiff blink of his eyes - a rude quip - a shake of his tambourine.
The brilliance of making this boy's only harbor in the storm his father (at first, anyway) -- and then making that father Tom Hanks -- gives Hanks one of the best "latter part of his career" roles a man of Hanks' prowess has had in ages. It's a Jimmy Steward move. It's a Henry Fonda move. It's a Donald Sutherland move. He steps out of the spotlight. Lets his overwhelming magnetism elevate the work of the younger actor whose character loves you so thoroughly. And allows his screen time to be as limited as possible.
(He and Bullock - as amazing as they are - are a bit of a mismatch as a couple. It dings the film in a minor way. But that's neither's fault and they spend so little time together it's barely worth mentioning.)
In Hanks' case -- his fate as Oskar Schell's father lies in the crumbling Twin Towers on the fateful morning of 9-11. None of us has been able to make sense of that day. The best each of us can do is recount what we went through and to relate some of our friends' tales or perhaps the near "urban legend" like miracles we've heard of survivors, coincidences, and sheer insanity. Now ask Oskar Schell to process the fact that the person he thought understood him best was obliterated by one of the most senseless acts in history. Amazingly, Safron Foer - adapted by the amazing Eric Roth - then in the hands of Stephen Daldry - did just that.
How does one do all this and steer it away from the rocky cliffs of films like The Hours and The Reader and keep a 9-11 movie infused with hope? So few of us are Virginia Woolf or the cutest boy in the world whose icy mother was Julianne Moore. So few of us wandered home one day with a controller of a German streetcar only to have a hot affair with a bosomy Nazi. But far too many of us felt the shock of 9-11 rattle through our lives and change our perception of the world forever. Few of us were able to see the possibility of hope rising out of such a tragedy. This story does just that. I won't give a damn thing away because you all need to see it. But my goodness does this thing put your heart in a vice and then hand it back to you -- tear-soaked as all hell -- in the most glorious place.
Finally, I must talk about Max von Sydow and Sandra Bullock -- two of the year's best performances. Sandy Bullock continues to prove herself to be so much more than the industry allows her to be. While her Oscar for The Blind Side may seem to some that it was more of a lifetime achievement award than it was a deserving statue for a specific performance -- Extremely Loud demonstrates that the lady can act. Man can she ever. You wonder what the hell she's doing all movie. And then you have your mind and heart blown to pieces. Brace yourselves.
And then there's the Exorcist himself, Mr. von Sydow - who went up against death in a chess game, who dated Barbara Hershey in a Woody Allen film and lived to tell the tale. One of the greatest living actors, it's a shame von Sydow had to be nominated in a year where a fellow elder-statesman already has the momentum to snag supporting actor gold. Were this any other year, he would have deserving taken the trophy -- all without muttering a word -- all by simply holding up his tattooed palms bearing the words "Yes" and "No." Max's eyes show his deep understanding of Oksar's struggle as he accompanies the boy on his post-9-11 quest. His work is amazing.
My personal pick for best picture of the year remains Midnight in Paris. That doesn't seem like it has the clout to take the gold - let's be honest, the tap-dancing Frenchman who does a bit with a dog has it all locked up. But that seemed to me to have more to do with the fact that Woody Allen is the kind of guy who is going to win one best picture - and that's all. Extremely Loud, on the other hand, is the kind of movie that would ask the Academy to really have a brain and have some balls. This is an important film that could recalibrate the nation's heart about our greatest tragedy. Let go and let it take you on its ride. Daldry has handled the material admirably - any open mind will be overwhelmed.
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