Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps

What made the first Wall Street good (not great) was that it broke down very complex, segmented issues for those who were fiscally inept.  But its sequel, alas, falls short of this criterion by a long shot.  And them some.

For most of Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, Oliver Stone’s follow up to his much better 1987 film, I hadn’t the slightest idea what the hell the main characters were talking about.  Like Stone’s last film, W., a lot of the characters in this Wall Street sit around large tables in large conference rooms talking about a familiar concept (money) by using complicated terms that only 5 percent of the American population will be able to understand.

I don’t expect to be able to comprehend every single detail of every single film, but if I don’t understand it, the material should at least be presented in a compelling way.  I have no idea how to diffuse a bomb, but that doesn’t make The Hurt Locker any less interesting.

Following the aftermath of the last film, Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) has just served an eight year bit in prison, and now, on the eve of the biggest American financial meltdown in history, he’s become a successful writer and motivational speaker.  After delivering one amusing speech, he’s stopped by stock market prodigy Jake (Shia LaBeouf) who tells Gekko that he will soon marry his estranged daughter Winnie (Carey Mulligan).

That should be enough for a plot, but Stone weighs his film down with stock market revenge games involving the VP of a firm (Josh Brolin), Jake’s mentor (Frank Langella), and a bunch of suited-up rich dudes.  Other plot elements include Jake’s debt ridden mother (Susan Sarandon), and his fascination with… motorcycles.

I mean, Jesus Christ, why so much?

My main hesitation walking into this film was LaBeouf’s ability to pull off a lead role opposite Douglas reprising his best role.  To say LaBeouf pulls it off is an understatement.  The 24-year-old actor damn near carries the film, that is, unless his scenes are being stolen from Mulligan, who has every right to be argued as one of the best actresses of her generation.  The tender relationship the two share (which, of course, resulted into them having a real life relationship) is the highlight of the film.  The way Jake proposes to Winnie is touching and original; it’s a standout scene.

The rest of the acting is top notch. Brolin has a blast playing the gutless villain while Douglas fits seamlessly into the role that won him an Oscar more than 20 years ago.  And there is an obvious but extremely rewarding cameo that should earn applause from the audience. But the film is simply not compelling.  Maybe it’s because there is too much going on, maybe it’s because, at times, it’s hard to understand exactly WHAT is going on.

The blogosphere is blowing up with criticism surrounding this film’s ending.  I didn’t have a problem with it.  But maybe by then I was just glad it was over.  C

The Town

The best line in The Town, Ben Affleck's second directorial effort after his masterful Gone Baby Gone in 2007, will go missed by many because of its subtlety. 

Most of what  made Gone Baby Gone so memorable were the seemingly minor details that we picked up on during a second viewing. The throwaway lines, the quick glances, and so. The Town is just like that. Is it better, or even as good as Affleck's first? I'm not too sure, let's find out.

We are offered quotes in the beginning of the film stating that the troubled, crime ridden, Boston neighborhood of Charlestown has produced more bank robbers than any other neighborhood in the world. The Town is the story of four of them.

Doug (Affleck) heads a team of  thorough thieves who knock off armored cars and banks. He leads the crew with of his intelligence and precision, while his best friend, Jim (a flawless Jeremy Renner), enforces all the violently necessary tasks.

After the crew has to resort to nabbing a hostage (Rebecca Hall), they get some serious heat from the FBI, namely a go-for-broke agent (Jon Hamm).

With The Town, Affleck proves that Gone Baby Gone wasn't a fluke; the dude can direct. Period. 

In this film, he so perfectly stages a car chase that it reminds us of The French Connection. And a lengthy, detailed shoot out can be mentioned in the same breath as Heat. But beyond his excellence use of technique (dropping and bring back sound, reversing a time-lapsed sunset) Affleck will grow to be known as a guy that can seriously direct his actors.

Fresh off his should-of-won-the-Oscar performance in The Hurt Locker, Jeremy Renner steals every second he's on screen. As a psychopathic, tatted up badass, Renner outacts every one in the picture, which is saying a lot.

You've seen Rebecca Hall in a few things (The Prestige, Vicky Christina Barcelona, Please Give), but she's never been better than she is here. The "babe in the woods" routine of a hostage falling for her captor has been done tenfold, but not with Hall's convincing charm.

But by far the biggest surprise comes in the form of a young, smoldering blonde named Blake Livley.

I've never seen Livley act before (sorry, no Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants or Gossip Girl... shocker) for which I am grateful. As Doug's coked-out, oxy'd-up ex, Lively draws us in so convincingly, we forget who she is. Don't make the mistake of crediting her beauty. With a performance like this, looks have nothing to do with it. There's a scene she plays with Hamm that demands a broad range of emotions in a matter if seconds. She nails it. Lively does what Amy Ryan did in Gone Baby Gone, only better. Oscar, pay attention.

Blake Lively

If there are faults in the film, they come from Affleck the actor. He's had his moments in previous roles, and he does all right here, but I kept thinking how much more I would believe his character if it was played by someone else (Bale? Damon? Norton?). Oh well.

The Town stands pretty damn tall against the other crime "thrillers" released this year (The Losers, Takers, Armored). But that's not saying much. Everyone should enjoy this movie. It ain't perfect, but it's the work of a very skilled, only-to-get-better director.

Oh and that line. Towards the end of the film, Hamm reads a brief note that was left on his car. His silent reaction is amusing, but watch who he hands it to and listen to what he says when he does it. It's as perfectly-timed as anything he's delivered as Don Draper. Blink and you'll miss it. A-

2010 Fall Movie Preview

Save a few rare exceptions, 2010 has been one of the worst years in recent cinematic history.  Here are a few films that hope to curb that. Clicking the titles links you to the film’s trailer.

The Town: Sept. 17

Directed by Ben Affleck

After exceeding any and all expectations with Gone Baby Gone, Affleck’s Boston-set crime drama is already earning rave reviews.  I’ll go in skeptical, but most likely leave surprised.

Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps: Sept. 24

Directed by Oliver Stone

Stone has made it very clear that Michael Douglas reprising his role as Gordon Gekko will be a supporting performance to Shia LaBeouf.  Mistake?  Maybe.  But I’m there.

The Social Network: Oct. 1

Directed by David Fincher

Casting Jesse Eisenberg as your lead, in this case the founder of Facebook, could be disastrous.  But Fincher has no idea how to make a mediocre, disinterested film.  My favorite film critic, Peter Travers of Rolling Stone, has already called this “the film of the year.”  That’s enough for me.

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest: Oct. 15

Directed by Daniel Alfredson

If it’s anything like the first two, this final installment to the Swedish trilogy will be supremely badass.  Better news: Noomi Repace just hired the same publicist that helped an unknown Marion Cotillard earn the Best Actress Oscar in 2007.  Here we go…

Hereafter: Oct. 22

Directed Clint Eastwood

“I like to think of this as a chick flick, but one that men will like too.”  That’s about all Eastwood is telling us, but considering that Clint has been on a masterful streak since 2003’s Mystic River, you can expect this one to hit as well.

127 Hours: Nov. 5

Directed by Danny Boyle

Not many directors could pull off a movie in which its main character is pinned down by a rock for most of its running time.  The film will rest entirely on star James Franco’s shoulders.  If we don’t believe him, then it will flop. Which… I doubt.

Fair Game: Nov. 5

Directed by Doug Liman.

The true story of ousted CIA agent Valerie Plame is to be played by Naomi Watts with Sean Penn as her husband.  Count me in.

Black Swan: Dec. 1

Directed by Darren Aronofsky

The man responsible for the best film of 2008 (The Wrestler) will deliver again with this creepy, pseudo sci-fi mystery about two dueling ballerinas. 

The Fighter: Dec. 10

Directed by David O. Russell

Easily the film I’m looking forward to most this fall.  Mark Walhberg is finally able to bring his years-long passion project, about real-life boxer “Irish” Mickey Ward, to the screen.  Christian Bale, who got Machinist thin for his role as Ward’s drug-addicted trainer, could finally score that Oscar nom.

True Grit: Dec. 25

Directed by Joel and Ethan Coan

The Coen brothers take on the same novel, about a drunken U.S. Marshall who helps a girl find her father, that landed John Wayne his only Oscar.  The Wayne film isn’t particularly great, but I imagine this will be.  Could Jeff Bridges be the first actor since Tom Hanks to land back-to-back Best Actor Oscars? 

Biutiful: Dec. 29

Alejandro González Iñárritu's first film since Babel.  Sold.

Another Year: Dec. 31

Directed by Mike Leigh

Leigh is one of the very best living filmmakers, and his latest, about an aging married couple, earned raves at the Cannes Film Festival in May. It makes no difference what Leigh’s films are about, as long as they have his unique stamp, I’m there.

Blue Valentine: Dec. 31

Directed by Derek Cianfrance

Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams brought the house down at Sundance for their portrayal of a tumultuous couple who fall in and out of love.  Details are mum, which is good.  Expect serious awards attention. 

And a few more to keep track of:

Never Let Me Go is full of murky plot details, but it’s impressive cast and talented director should make it worth while. Sept. 15

Catfish appears to be a… documentary?  Maybe?  Who cares.  It boasts the best trailer of the year. Sept. 17

You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger is Woody Allen’s annual film (he’s made nearly one a year since 1976), for better or worse.  Sept. 22

Buried has exactly at stake what 127 Hours does. Can Ryan Reynolds pull off a solo act of a guy trapped in a coffin with just a lighter and cell phone?  I don’t know, but I’m intrigued. Sept. 24

Waiting For “Superman” examines America’s flawed education system.  Should be a tearjerker. Sept. 24

Let Me In (Oct. 1) and Paranormal Activity 2 (Oct. 22) won’t be as good as their originals, but I’ll give them a shot.

Conviction is serious Oscar bait for Hilary Swank and Sam Rockwell.  Could come off as a bit too melodramatic though. Oct. 15

The Next Three Days looks a little too far fetched.  But Paul Haggis’ hands are capable enough I suppose. Nov. 19

The King’s Speech is already generating some serious Oscar buzz for Colin Firth.  The Academy is always a sucker for those period British flicks. Nov. 24

Miral is Julian Schnabel’s latest, which means that I have no idea what it’s about, but I’m sure it’ll be great. Dec. 3

Somewhere is Sofia Coppola going all Lost in Translation on us, which is worth (another) shot. Dec. 22

The American

I knew after its first five minutes that I was going to love The American.  The opening scene, which I see no reason to reveal here, sets the tone perfectly. We know that we’re in for something different.  Something deliberately paced (i.e. slow), something expressionistic (i.e. not a lot of explaining) and something bold (i.e. George Clooney minus the charm).

In fact, The American is the best foreign film (that just happens to be an American film) that I’ve seen in years.  Save the title and its star, there is nothing inherently American about this movie.  Which, for the purposes of exploring familiar themes using unconventional methods, is a very good thing.

Clooney plays an assassin hiding out in a small Italian village after being mysteriously ambushed.  While hiding out, his employer contracts him to build a weapon from scratch for another would-be assassin.  He soon meets and falls for a hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold and decides that this job will be his last.

That’s pretty much it.  On the surface, there isn’t a whole hell of a lot going on here.  And that’s just the way skilled director Anton Corbijn wants it to appear.

In a three-sentence plot description, The American comes off as a flick full of clichés.  Not a chance.  First off, focus on the scenery, which itself acts as a character.  Corbijn, much in the way of the great Michael Haneke, shows you something, but doesn’t guide you.  There’s no sudden close up urging the viewer to LOOK OVER HERE.  No.  You have to find the clues for yourself, which is very un-American as far as filmmaking goes.

Next, throw in one of the most recognizable faces in the world as your lead, and have him play a character unlike any other he’s played.  As Jack (or Edward, or who ever) George Clooney delivers the most controlled performance of his career.  His dialogue is sparse (it maybe adds up to 10 script pages of talking) which causes him to tell his story with his eyes and face, something Clooney is often ignored for doing in other roles.

Lastly, how about that “one last job” bit?  For every movie that has done this brilliantly (Heat, Inception), there are four that have failed at it.  This one succeeds because Jack’s final job is underplayed by the elimination of risk (making a gun isn’t as tough as, say, killing a high profile figure) and the fact that it is mentioned only once in passing.

Watching The American, I was reminded of the great foreign directors.  Parts of the film – the dialogue as an afterthought, the extended shots of landscapes, little exposition – are supremely Ingmar Bergman.  Other parts – the nonchalant sexuality, the quick action sequences – were reminiscent of Antonioni.  And all the better.

Given the film’s modest box office take, it’s obvious that people aren’t flocking to see this. That’s a shame.  If they did, they’d know that The American is one of the very best films to be released this year.  Go for something different.  A

I'm Still Here

Here is my original review for I'm Still Here, followed by a not so subtle amendment:

Most everyone saw, or heard about, Joaquin Phoenix’s bizarre, basically incoherent appearance on The Late Show with David Letterman last February. The blogosphere exploded with speculation.  Was it a hoax?  Was Joaquin really quitting acting, only to be known as JP, an aspiring rap artist?   Or, was it, gulp, for real?

Casey Affleck’s unsettling, if not suspicious documentary, won’t answer all your questions, but it knows it doesn’t have to, either.

Affleck, Phoenix’s good friend and brother-in-law, followed Phoenix around for almost a year shortly after the two-time Oscar nominee announced he was giving up acting for good.  The result is quite remarkable. 

Over the course of the movie we witness Phoenix snort cocaine, order prostitutes off the internet, snort cocaine off of the breasts of said prostitutes, go ape shit on his best friends, punch out attendees at his rap performances, piss off Sean “Diddy” Combs, and, yes, bomb on Letterman.

Much in the way of D.A. Pinnebaker’s brilliant 1967 Bob Dylan documentary Don’t Look Back, I’m Still Here doesn’t fully explain Phoenix as a man, or really unveil the true reason he decided to quit a profession he was, mostly, quite good at.  Instead, we’re presented a portrait of someone with very little self esteem, who was, suspiciously, all right with having cameras on him 24/7 for a year. 

I’ve used the word suspicious twice because as Phoenix’s gut grows larger and his beard becomes scruffier, his antics become increasingly more out of control.  Several times during the film, I wondered how much of what I was seeing was real, and how much was simply faked or improved upon.

After much pondering, I think Joaquin Phoenix did truly want to find new life inspiration by becoming a rapper.  I do think that most of what he does in the film – the tirades, the drugs, the sex – did indeed happen.  Is he playing up for the cameras?  Of course.  But I think the root cause is genuine. 

There are a few moments in the film which led me to believe this.  Phoenix admits multiple times that his music is shit and that he doesn’t know how to clean his slate.  Also, it’s hard to say that Phoenix escaping from a limo and fleeing into the woods directly after his Letterman appearance, sobbing hysterically in the arms of his best friend, is fake.  If it is, it’s the best acting he’s ever done.

As a film, first-time director Casey Affleck uses some groovy editing techniques (speeding up a long tracking shot of Phoenix getting girls into his hotel room is a highlight), but really, the star here is the film’s subject.  We may not know any more about him, but, like he asks of the audience in his opening monologue, we may not necessarily judge him (as much) anymore.

It’s just been released that Phoenix will sit in Letterman’s guest chair on Wednesday Sept. 22.  I suppose he is still here after all.  A-

Amendment to original review:

Well, Casey Affleck recently told the New York Times that his film was all a complete lie. No no... "performance art," as he calls it.  Bullshit.  If Affleck admitted up front that this was a mockumentary, in the way of This Is Spinal Tap, then we all could've rolled with it.  But admitting that your film is all fake a week after its release is just lazy.  The Blair Witch Project did that, rather successfully, and it hasn't been done well since.  We knew from the get-go that characters in Paranormal Activity were actors, but that film was still scary as all hell.

Admitting up front that I'm Still Here was going to be a piece of "performance art" would've been fine.  Audiences love watching real actors play caricatures of themselves (Curb Your Enthusiasm comes to mind). 

But finding out it's a hoax, which most of us were expecting anyway, is just flat out fucking lame.  If you read my initial review it is obvious that I was fooled. Affleck says that wasn't his intention, but I'm still pissed anyway.  In my review I said that if the film was fake, it was the best performance of Joaquin Phoenix's career.  Because I still partly believe that, I'll go easy with my new grade of D-.  But it probably deserves worse.

The Tillman Story

What more do you possibly need to know about Pat Tillman and the events surrounding his death?  The story was poked and prodded for months after Tillman died under mysterious circumstances in Afghanistan in April 2004.  But director Amir Bar-Lev wanted, like every good documentarian should, to look closer.

Shortly after 9/11, Arizona Cardinal Pat Tillman turned down a multimillion dollar contract and enlisted in the Army Rangers.  Two years later, he was killed in action.  People got curious.  Rumors spread, controversy was uncovered, politicians were made to look bad, and then the story went away.

Tillman’s mother Dannie, wasn’t pleased to learn that officials had initially covered up the fact that Tillman and members of his platoon were gunned down by friendly fire.  She also knew that the story didn’t end there, so she began digging. 

Revealing all she uncovered is to reveal everything that the film uncovers, which is no fun to read in a review.  Let’s just say that, if Dannie was 100 percent correct, Tillman’s death was covered up by everyone who knew about it, which goes high up the political food chain.

But the details surrounding the cover up aren’t nearly as riveting as the Tillman family’s inability to cope with not necessarily what happened, but how it was told to them.

None of this is conveyed better than in the speech Tillman’s younger brother, Richard, gives at Pat’s memorial service.

Jumping up on stage in a white tee shirt tucked into blue jeans, Richard looks around, takes a swig of his tall Guinness, and speaks.

“Wow, there are a lot of people here, thanks for coming,” he says almost sarcastically.  “Pat's a fucking champion and always will be.  And, he’d want me to say this, but he's not with God. He's fucking dead. He's not religious. Thanks for your thoughts, but he's fucking dead."

The comment is startling in its delivery, which is calm and precise, and echoes in your mind long after you exit the theatre.  It’s raw and real.

Like the best documentaries made recently, The Tillman Story doesn’t offer a full resolution to its subject.  Dolphins are still being slaughtered in a hidden cove in Taiji.  Father Oliver O’Grady is still alive and well and living free in Ireland, even after admittedly molesting hundreds of children. We’ll never know if Jesse Friedman actually raped boys with his father.  We’ll probably never hear President Bush admit that he knew Pat Tillman was killed by friendly fire, only to lie about it later.

 

Although The Tillman Story isn’t nearly as good as those other films, it carefully and believably presents an issue that may very well never find a satisfying resolution.  A good documentary doesn’t have to give you all the answers; it just has to make you care.  B

Machete

When Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino made their deliciously underrated throwback flick, Grindhouse, a fake trailer for a movie about an ex-Federale framed for an attempted assassination, opened the film.  Three years later, Rodriguez releases the feature film formed around that trailer.  Kept is its name, Machete, it’s star, Danny Trejo and its basic plot. 

It’s fair to assume that, based solely on that initial trailer, Rodriguez expects most of us to dismiss the full-length Machete as ‘70s pulp trash.  Yeah… and?

Rodriguez knows what he’s doing.  He’s making a carefree, ultraviolent, gut-bustlingly funny film that involves little to no thinking.  It’s in the same vein as Piranha 3D and The Expendables; If you can’t have fun with it, don’t even bother coming.

We’ve all seen Trejo before.  With damn near 200 film and television performances over the past two decades under his belt, he’s one of the most prolific character actors working today.  But here, as Machete, he finally gets his name above the title.

Years after witnessing his wife killed by a drug lord (a wonderfully bloated Steven Seagal) Machete tries to blend in with the rest of the illegal immigrants in a Texas town, getting whatever day-laborer work is thrown at him.  But one day he’s picked up by a creeper in a suit (Jeff Fahey, yes, the Lawnmower Man) and offered some serious dough to take out an ultra right-winged Senator (Robert De Niro, having a blast).

But after Machete is framed for the near fatal shooting of the Senator, he seeks revenge to clear his name.  With the help of babes like Jessica Alba, Michelle Rodriguez and, yes, Lindsay Lohan, Machete kills his way to the top, which results in a fantastically overblown showdown of Texas hicks vs. Mexican immigrants.

Of course the whole flick is completely over the top, but that’s the point.  It boasts  virtually no substance, but doesn’t for a second pretend to be something other than it is.

Fans need not be dismayed, as the final credits tell us, Machete will return… twice.  As Machete cuts and stabs and shoots his way to the top, none of the bad guys can stop him, and Machete can’t miss.  Rock ‘n’ roll. B

Get Low

With little effort, one could make a very convincing argument that Robert Duvall is America’s best living actor.  Just a few months shy of his 80^th birthday, Duvall has been igniting the screen ever since his haunting, underplayed debut in To Kill a Mockingbird. 

Really, can you picture anyone else as Corleone consigliere Tom Hagen in the Godfather’s?  Or sleazy publisher Frank Hackett in Network?  You know for a fact that no one else could pull of a line as bizarre as “I love the smell of napalm in the morning,” as well as Duvall.  But that’s not fair, a lot of actors had their heyday in the 70s. 

So how about a list of very mediocre films that Duvall not only stole scenes in, but actually made the film worth watching: Deep Impact, A Civil Action, Phenomenon, John Q, Lucky You and on and on.  Mix in brilliant turns in The Paper, The Apostle and Sling Blade and you’ve got a bonafide master.

In his latest feat, Duvall plays ragged hermit Felix Bush, who in 1930s Tennessee gets the wild idea of having a living funeral. He wants to invite the whole town, most of which fear him, with the help of a fast-talking funeral home owner (Bill Murray) and his loyal partner (Lucas Black).

Bush has secrets.  Big ones.  That he’s kept tight-lipped for 40 years.  And this is where a film like Get Low can either falter or excel.  Bush’s secrets are talked about throughout the entire film, details are hinted at, criminal activity is suspected, but nothing is ever confirmed.  Where it gets tricky is when the audience finally finds out what the big secret is. 

Of course I won’t reveal it here, but I will say that once we find out, it is done with such effortless conviction that Duvall will effortlessly waltz into the Kodak Theatre in February to eagerly await his second Oscar (he won in 1983 for Tender Mercies).

For a first time feature film director, Aaron Schneider delivers beyond expectations, fully immersing his set with believable details. (This guy ain’t no rookie, though.  He won an Oscar for Best Short Film in 2003.)  And with the help of Murray, who is clearly having a blast, and the talented Black (who continues to raise his own bar after a remarkable debut in Sling Blade, with roles in Friday Night Lights and Jarhead), Get Low is most definitely a world to trek in to

“It’s about time for me to get low,” Duvall says in an early scene.  And something tells me that if it was anyone else, we may not care as much.  B+

Piranha 3D

Piranha 3D is the kind of movie that knows exactly what movie it wants to be. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to see a silly summer throwaway flick that knows it's a silly summer throwaway flick. (The Expendables fits this bill as well).

If you choose to walk into Piranha 3D (and, for my money, you should) then expect a ridiculously over-the-top gorefest; a real slapstick romp. There is not one single shred of scientific accuracy in the entire film. But, it never tries to justify itself as being accurate. The film is absurd. And it knows it.

When a lone beer bottle (really, a beer bottle? It couldn't have been a brick, or perhaps an anchor?) falls out of a boat and lands on the lake floor, it sets off a massive earthquake that releases century's-old piranhas.

 Because this takes place in a town similar to that of Jaws, the lake is littered with college spring breakers partying their asses off, and the cops (led by a badass Elisabeth Shue) are initially afraid to cease what will certainly be a huge monetary week for the town.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out where this is going.

There is, of course, the standard lame plot (as if violently starved piranhas aren't enough to carry a movie), but don't let that bog you down. 

There is no reason to praise Piranha 3D; believe me, I'm not going to sit here and defend it against its critics. But those pointing out every flaw are taking it far too seriously. There are flaws because gifted director Alexandre Aja (he made the scarily good High Tension) wants there to be flaws.

Honestly, how can you not enjoy a delirious Jerry O'Connell as a tequila'ed and coked up porn director?  Or Ving Rhames getting all medieval on some piranhas' asses? Or a  possessed Christopher Lloyd, playing the oh so convenient character who just happens to have a clay mold of the type of evil piranha sitting at his desk?

Because a sequel is already in the works, I have no shame in telling you that the ending is a complete cop out. But oh well, this ain't Citizen Kane. Hell, it isn't even Alien. But then again, it doesn't pretend to be. B

Note: Am I the only one that finds it ironic that the most grotesque (and hilarious) death in the film has nothing to do with a piranha?  Think a long ponytail and a faulty boat propeller.

the Directors: Steven Soderbergh

Welcome to the wonderful world of Steven Soderbergh. The man has had one of the most varied careers in recent cinema. He began with a startling debut, then faded away for a decade behind little-seen oddities. Once he hit his stride in Hollywood via Ocean’s Eleven, he partly turned his back on Tinseltown, making many flicks for next to nothing, starring people we've never heard of.

Soderbergh is one of the rare filmmakers who can do just as much with $100 million as he can with $200,000. Because he directs, shoots, edits and camera operates the majority of his films, Soderbergh can selflessly be dubbed a true auteur. And with 12 flicks (and one TV show) under his belt in the 2000s alone, the dude is damn prolific, too. Basically, when I’m asked who my favorite current filmmaker is, Soderbergh is always one of the first names out of my mouth.

(Note: Soderbergh’s second film Kafka, made in 1991, is seemingly nonexistent. I’ve tried various outlets – Netflix, Amazon, used film stores – to no avail. Likewise his 1996 documentary, Gray’s Anatomy.)

sex, lies and videotape (1989)

An incredible debut film with the stamp of a true visionary. The audience immediately falls into Soderbergh’s unique world with the help of a bizarre story, and an intriguingly mysterious lead character. As the quick-witted banter flies off the screen, we slowly become all-consumed in Soderbergh’s psychological study on sexuality, lack of truth, and yes, videotapes. A

Interesting Fact: What do the titles 46:02, Retinal Retention, Charged Coupling Device, Mode: Visual and Hidden Agendas all have in common? They were other possibilities for the title of this film.

King of the Hill (1993)

A moderately amusing tale of a young teen struggling to make it in the Depression-era Midwest. While the film looks good, the story and catchy gimmicks quickly grow old. There’s a reason you’ve probably never seen this movie. Not awful, but not among Soderbergh’s best. C+

Interesting Fact: Spalding Gray, the interest of Soderbergh’s little-seen documentary Gray’s Anatomy, has a brief cameo in this film.

The Underneath (1995)

A mediocre, yet highly stylized, crime caper. While the acting is good on all parts, namely William Fichtner as a psycho baddie, the story is weak and predictable. (Hint: if the first scene of a movie features an armored car, you can safely assume that it will be robbed by the film’s end.) B

Interesting Fact: Take notice of the use of different tint colors and canting camera angles, devices Soderbergh would soon perfect.

Shizopolis (1996)

When a movie opens with the director staring into the camera telling his audience that the film they are about to watch is the most important film of all time, you shouldn’t take it too seriously. At least that’s Soderbergh’s thought. This on-the-fly, cinema vérité experiment is great if viewed as a film with little-to-no meaning. Its satirical theme is amusing, but its gimmick runs dry pretty fast. B-

Interesting Fact: The movie was written, produced, directed, shot, and scored by Soderbergh himself. It cost $250,000 to make, and grossed just $10,580.

Out of Sight (1998)

Easily the most important film of Soderbergh’s career, as it put him on the mainstream map. George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez practically light the screen on fire, their chemistry is that hot.  It doesn’t get any better than Clooney and Lopez, thief and cop, stuck in the trunk of a car, talking the night away. Also, notice how the different narratives are fused together through seamless editing, a technique that would soon become Soderbergh’s trademark. A

Interesting Fact: Soderbergh shot the trunk scene 45 times, each time in one long take. In editing, he realized he didn’t like any of them, so they reshot it with multiple setups.

The Limey (1999)

An underrated, ferocious little gem of a film. Soderbergh takes his loopy editing device from Out of Sight and explodes it. The film, about an old British hood seeking revenge on his murdered daughter, plays out like a brutal jigsaw puzzle. Terence Stamp in the title role, and Peter Fonda as a Hollywood goon, are perfectly cast. A great, hidden film. Check it out. A-

Interesting Fact: The DVD commentary for this film, with Soderbergh and writer Lem Dobbs, is almost as well known as the movie itself. Much of the track plays out like the film, with weird sound effects and repetition. And, most notably, the constant arguing between the two subjects on how the film was produced.

Erin Brockovich (2000)

I’ve always thought that Julia Roberts got way more credit in this movie than she deserved. The film’s technique, as usual, is the star, with extended cross dissolves and over-exposed photography. Albert Finney is great, but Julia just doesn’t do it for me. B-

Interesting Fact: Roberts received an unprecedented salary for her role, making her the first woman to make $20 million for a movie.

Traffic (2000)

In January, I chose Traffic as the best film of the 2000s, a decision I proudly stand by. I have not one negative thing to say about this film, which is a flawlessly detailed examination of drugs in America. Not only Soderbergh’s finest achievement as a director, but as a cinematographer as well. Casting each story in a different colored hue was sheer genius. The final scene of this movie is one of the best captured moments in all of film. A perfect cinematic experience. A+

Interesting Fact: The first names of the four men who won Oscars for this film are Steven, Stephen, Stephen and Benicio.

Ocean’s Eleven (2001)

A dazzling throwback to the Rat Pack glory days of Hollywood. In a bit of perfect casting, George Clooney excels as the suave Danny Ocean. Equally good are his thieving counterparts Brad Pitt, Matt Damon and Elliot Gould. Honestly, have you ever talked to someone who flat-out hates this movie? It’s one of the most genuinely entertaining movies of the 2000s. A

Interesting Fact: If you’ve ever been tempted to watch a DVD with the commentary on, do it here with the Damon and Pitt track. It’s one of the funniest I’ve ever heard.

Full Frontal (2002)

Soderbergh’s first foray into indie mystery after achieving A-list status. Like his later tiny-budget films, you either like Full Frontal or you don’t. I’m not going to argue that it can be too Hollywood insider-y for the average viewer, but I didn’t see it as a complete failure. As an exercise in stripping movie powerhouses of their vanity, it definitely succeeds. But is the flimsy story enough to carry an entire film? You be the judge. B

Interesting Fact: Soderbergh attached a list of strict rules to the screenplay of this low budget film. The list included the fact that there would be no sets, no drivers, no hair and makeup, no trailers, no craft service, and a promise that the persons involved would have a great time.

Solaris (2002)

Hands down the most underrated film of Soderbergh’s career. Despite being produced by James Cameron, the film was released to dismal box office returns and harsh reviews. I’ve always thought Solaris was a patient, brilliantly realized story with convincing acting and a powerful conclusion. But not many would agree with me. A

Interesting Fact: Solaris was originally given an R rating due to two shots of George Clooney’s naked bottom. But in a landmark appeal, Soderbergh argued his case before the MPAA, citing that similar content (and worse) had appeared on network television. The movie was soon given a PG-13 rating.

K Street (2003)

This short-lived HBO series (it only lasted one season) was a ballsy, fly-on-the-wall approach to the inside working’s of the D.C. government infrastructure. Fusing together real people with fictional characters, Soderbergh, along with co-creator George Clooney, delivered an improvised, captivating work of modern television. Sure it only appealed to a select sect of people, but I have I feeling it would’ve grown into a superb show if given more time. A-

Interesting Fact: Soderbergh knew that in order to be current, he would have to discuss the most recent political news. For 10 weeks, he would film Monday-Wednesday, edit Thursday, complete sound editing and final touches on Friday, send to the studio on Saturday, and the show would air on Sunday.

Eros: "Equilibrium" segment (2004)

Soderbergh is one-third of this colossal disaster. With names like Wai Kar Wong and Michelangelo Antonioni, you’d expect something worthwhile. Such is not the case. The three short films of Eros each present their take on love and sex. The only remotely interesting one is Wong’s. Sadly, much like King of the Hill, there’s a reason you probably haven’t heard of this movie. D

Interesting Fact: I got nothing.

Ocean’s Twelve (2004)

Probably the most hated of Soderbergh’s better-known films. But, like Solaris, I think this sequel is great, and dare I say, possibly as good as the first Ocean's. Ditching his controlled filming style used in Ocean’s Eleven and opting for a more insider’s perspective (à la K Street), Ocean’s Twelve makes better use of its characters, but admittedly slacks on its story. The scene where the Ocean’s crew discuss their new plan in a cramped hotel room is one of the best of Soderbergh’s career; a great, improvised work of art. A-

Interesting Fact: Clint Eastwood was rumored to make a cameo as Linus’s (Matt Damon) father, but had to drop out. Peter Fonda shot a scene as Linus’s father, but it was cut. Linus’s father was eventually played by Bob Einstein in Ocean’s Thirteen. Einstein is best-known for playing Marty Funkhouser on Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Bubble (2006)

For this little wonder, about a murder that shakes up the lives of a few doll-factory workers, Soderbergh traveled to a barren Midwest town, cast all nonprofessional actors, used their houses as sets, improvised all their dialogue, shot only for a few days, and then released it simultaneously in theaters, on DVD and On Demand. The result is a revelatory 73 minutes of independent film. Roger Ebert called this the second-best movie of 2006 for a reason. A-

Interesting Fact: Honestly, the whole damn setup is interesting. Just rent it.

The Good German (2006)

You’d think that if anyone could nail a Berlin-set, post-WWII romance, it’d be Steven Soderbergh. Especially if his cast has names like Clooney and Blanchett. But sadly, this Casablanca-esque, lovers-in-peril film never fully delivers. Blanchett is perfectly cast as a femme fatale, as is Tobey Maguire as a psycho soldier  And although The Good German is nearly technically flawless, the story is unbearably weak. You need more than luscious cinematography to keep a flick afloat. B-

Interesting Fact: Soderbergh only used film equipment that was available during the ‘40s. Essentially, the film is shot as if it had been made in 1945.

Ocean’s Thirteen (2007)

The third and final Ocean’s flick plays out like a revenge film after one of the crew members is injured by a new Vegas pusher, played by Al Pacino. I suppose I enjoy these films because it seems like everyone involved enjoys them so damn much. Still, Thirteen is so clearly the weakest effort of the trio.  B

Interesting Fact: During the final scene in the airport, Pitt tells Clooney to “try and keep the weight off between jobs next time,” a reference to Clooney’s weight gain for his role in Syriana. Clooney retorts by telling Pitt he should “settle down and have a couple of kids,” which Pitt has, and then some, with partner Angelina Jolie.

Che (2008)

Broken into two segments, Soderbergh’s epic chronicling of Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara is best viewed in one very long sitting (258 minutes to be exact). Not all of it is great: Soderbergh takes his time establishing the tiniest details with painstakingly long wide shots, expansive dialogue and seemingly endless subplots. For me, the reasons to appreciate it outweighs the reasons to bash it. Benicio Del Toro gives his best performance since Traffic as the dynamic Che. You believe his every gesture. The extended battle in the deserted town that concludes the first section of the film is the highlight of this expressive passion project. A-

Interesting Fact: Del Toro was Soderbergh’s first and only choice to play Che. But in the event of an emergency, Soderbergh’s Che back-up was none other than Val Kilmer.

The Girlfriend Experience (2009)

Only Steven Soderbergh would cast a real life porn star in a film about a high class escort, and not have a single sex scene. Which sums up this tiny indie pretty well: it’s all about the tease. Porn star Sasha Grey, beyond all reasonable doubt, turns out solid work as the confused Chelsea. Grey seems to adapt to Soderbergh’s come-what-may method rather well. Fans of the auteur in question will be delighted by this film’s loopy narrative, which is, of course, a return to form. A-

Interesting Fact: Much like Bubble, this film was shot in a matter of weeks with mostly unknowns and, while cheap, didn’t nearly make back its money.

The Informant! (2009)

Matt Damon gives one of the best, and by far most zany, performances of his career as real-life whistle blower Mark Whitacre. Initially portrayed as a complete nincompoop, Damon slowly gives Whitacre sincere depth, diving further down into his emotional despair. I was genuinely surprised that this film didn’t garner serious awards attention. From Damon’s revelatory performance to Soderbergh’s corn-colored cinematography, it’s a real delight.  A-

Interesting Fact: According to Damon, Soderbergh used “perfect direction” when he told Damon to issue Whitacre’s final apology to the judge as if he were accepting an Academy Award.

The Expendables

You know what, I can't even lie: I enjoyed every single minute of The Expendables. No bullshit. It's a film that knows exactly what it wants to be, which is nothing more than a rock 'em sock 'em action flick. 

It's total crap, of course. The acting is forced and the dialogue is treated as an afterthought, but that didn't bother me. Here's why.

Director/writer/star Sylvester Stallone set out to make a balls-to-the-wall, '80s style action romp. And he's done just that. Most action movies today substitute real explosions for god-awful special effects. They depend on characters staring into computer screens to hack into some system, or use some piece of false weaponry that no one has ever heard of.

Sure there are a few CGI shots used here, but for the most part, shit really blows up, and guns and knives are used instead of infrared-thermal-nuclear-rocket-exploding-device... things. The Expendables never puts on a pretense. It's a throwback to the golden area of the genre, and it most definitely succeeds as just that.

Stallone and his gang of buffed-up badasses  have a blast as a crew of mercenaries hired to... hell I don't even know. Overthrow some foreign military general? Who cares.

The price of admission is worth the final blowout scene alone, most of which is set in the dungeon of a huge estate of said military general. As the men kill dozens, hundreds, seemingly thousands of bad guys without so much as receiving a scratch, they suddenly all get pinned down. Game over. Then, out of no where, one of them comes barging down the hallway blasting the shit out of anything that moves with an impossibly large shotgun. Awesome.

I shouldn't have liked this movie. It isn't my preferred cinematic cup of tea, to say the least. I should've balked at an obvious, cheesy line that Stallone delivers towards the Governor of California (who steals a scene with Mr. McClane), but instead, I laughed. I should've rolled my eyes at a barely comprehensible perfromance by Mickey Rourke, but instead, I just went with it.

Take the Transformers films for example, the most worthless clusterfuck of a film franchise that has ever been greenlit. Michael Bay actually thinks he's making The Godfather of action films; he thinks his films are masterpieces. The Expendables never gives off that impression, because it isn't trying to be great. It's just trying to blow shit up, and have fun doing it.  As Rourke would say: "Amen, brother." B