Battle: Los Angeles *

Director: Jonathan Liebesman

Cast: Aaron Eckhart, Michelle Rodriguez

Ramón Rodríguez, Michael Peña, Ne-Yo, Bridget Moynahan

Cory Hardrict, Noel Fisher, Jim Parrack

How can a movie where things explode very two seconds, be so freaking dull? That might be the biggest mystery in Battle: Los Angeles, and not why the leading characters never get hit by bullets, why the virgins die first and why are the aliens bothering with physical combat when they have such amazing weapons.

The film is essentially a handheld version of every war movie made during the last decade. Only difference is that the Middle Easterners have been replaced by aliens who have come to Earth to steal all the water (yes, a thinly disguised allegory for water replacing oil as the ultimate element of survival).

The characters include all the usual suspects, including Eckhart who plays an officer who just happens to announce his retirement the day aliens invade, Ramón Rodríguez as a newbie with a pregnant wife at home, Fisher as a geeky virgin and Michelle Rodríguez as a tough, butch chick with a heart of gold i.e. she plays Michelle Rodríguez.

The film was supposedly inspired on a WWII episode concerning mysterious lights that appeared above Los Angeles and watching this torturous film, you honestly have time to think that maybe filming that story would've been a much better idea.

The action scenes in the movie are deft but shockingly forgettable, the characters are under developed and other than Eckhart and Peña (who are always reliable) everyone else seems to not even bother with putting on a show.

Perhaps what results more vomit inducing about this movie is how biased it is about the idea of military forces being the families of the future.

We always wonder what keeps this people together as they travel the streets of the city trying to find civilians. Why aren't they more interested in their own lives? Since the performances are so poor, the only thing that bonds them is the actors' contract.

This forced love for the army the characters talk so much about comes off looking as a silly, even subversive method of drafting, not very different from what people in the 1940s would've thought.

At least this lack of soul, makes it easy to believe that no intelligent extraterrestrial force would bother with conquering a bunch of mechanical beings.

Rabbit Hole ***½

Director: John Cameron Mitchell
Cast: Nicole Kidman, Aaron Eckhart
Dianne Wiest, Tammy Blanchard, Miles Teller, Sandra Oh

Rabbit Hole often feels like a clinical dissection of pain. The way in which director Mitchell interprets David Lindsay-Abaire's screenplay (adapted from his own play) lacks any sentimentalism or melodramatic undertones.
In fact the film and the story can become so painful that some might even perceive Mitchell's directorial decisions as sadism but those willing to look past this will see how his film thrives with humanity.
Kidman and Eckhart play Becca and Howie, a married couple whose lives were shattered with the sudden death of their four year old son. When we first meet them it's been eight months since the tragedy and at first we don't even know what's going on.
Those coming into the film without knowing what it's about will probably detect an air of awkwardness and hostility during the first few scenes in which we see Becca go through her daily chores as if performing commands uttered by an unseen force.
She's almost robotic in her duties, even when she interacts with her husband. He's not any better, he makes her go to group therapy where they both agree they don't fit.
After we learn the reason for the strain in their relationship, the film takes on an even darker path as we see how they are forced to evaluate what will become of them in the wake of tragedy.
The idea that they might need to "move on" in order to survive gives the film its dilemma, for how can you move on without trying to forget the pain and for that matter how can you turn someone you love into pain you need to get away from?
The nature of suffering is questioned under extreme scrutiny and Kidman does it with such grace that you can't even fathom the depths he must've reached in order to deliver such a performance.
Becca is someone who at first glance seems like a controlling bitch. The way she reacts, the manner in which she moves and especially the tone of her words are filled with such passive aggressiveness that all you want to do is stay away from her.
In one scene she cooks creme brulee for her sister (Blanchard) she's just picked up from the police station. Her sister begins to eat her dessert and joyfully exclaims "I love the way it cracks" as she hits the sugar with her spoon. Becca auotmatically replies "of course you do" filled with contempt and bitterness.
Her performance is composed of dozens of tiny minutes like this during which we see Becca's pain seep through the cracks. We wonder how long will it take until her entire shell shatters and when it never happens (at least not in the way we expect it to) we are left with a true enigma of a woman.
Best of all is to see the way in which Becca's eyes move, she's always fully aware of everything going on around her, almost as if she's on constant guard trying to avoid more pain from coming into her life. Then she makes you want to reach out and hug her.
If Kidman is the film's center, the supporting cast is nothing if not impressive. Eckhart is often shattering and really funny (his scenes with Sandra Oh are magical), Blanchard is terrific and Wiest does such wonderful things with tiny scenes that you really end up craving more of her character when the film is over.
But perhaps Kidman's counterpart is in fact Miles Teller who plays Jason, the teenager who accidentally killed the child. When Becca reaches out to him the film could've easily turned into some sort of vendetta drama or a weird psychological thriller but in fact once he appears on the screen, we end up realizing that the pain isn't reserved to those who think they were the only ones affected by tragedy.
It's Jason who gives the film its name and in a strange way the heart Becca is trying so hard to find. Watching the plot unfold in unexpected ways makes for a beautiful experience and Mitchell proves to be a master of restrain (who would've guessed judging from his previous films?) who makes absolutely perfect touches with his camera.
Director of photography Frank G. DeMarco does an outstanding job externalizing Becca's emotions. During one scene we see Becca take her son's clothes out of the washing machine filled with hope because she has a plan for them. When said plan fails she drives by a Salvation Army deposit box and simply throws the clothes in.
The same action essentially symbolizes two extreme opposites. First as we see her take them out lovingly, we are reminded of someone taking a baked good of the oven, filled with promise. Then these very elements show us how Becca simply gives up.
Considering how often domestic dramas set in the suburbs recur to the same tricks, it's wonderful to see how Rabbit Hole was so thought out. The ideas behind the movie, like the way in which it flirts with metaphysics as a way of consolation, often seem too overwhelming for the genre and threaten to distance the audience but the delicate way in which it's executed make it seem oddly familiar.

The Dark Knight ***1/2

Director: Christopher Nolan
Cast:
Christian Bale,
Heath Ledger,
Aaron Eckhart
Maggie Gyllenhaal,
Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Gary Oldman

The essence of Christopher Nolan’s “The Dark Knight” is pretty much contained in an exchange of dialogue between two random characters.
Two men sit in a bar while everyone else in the city is consumed by fear. One of them asks “shouldn’t you be out there doing something?”, the other remains seated and replies “today’s my day off”.
The new entry in the Batman saga, might as well have been called “On the Gotham Waterfront” because like, and maybe not as deep since, the 1954 film it explores what makes a singular person stand up against a decaying world of corruption.
As a group of mobsters flood Gotham City with crime, three men unite to bring an end to the mob; Lieutenant James Gordon (Oldman) who seems to be the only incorruptible police member, new District Attorney Howard Dent (Eckhart) who has become a guiding light of hope in the arena of politics and billionaire Bruce Wayne (Bale) as the Batman, the masked vigilante who Gotham fears, hates and loves.
After a couple of big hits against organized crime, the mafia bosses receive a business proposition from a bizarre psychopath who calls himself the Joker (Ledger): for half their money, he will kill Batman for them.
Once they understand the scope of the Joker’s evil, they, ironically, take him seriously, accept his plan and stand back as the villain unleashes complete hell on the city.
The finale of “Batman Begins” was a thing of rare beauty; as a single card announced the arrival of a villain for the next chapter and the film somehow assumed that the audience would be back for more.
Turns out that this overpowering mix of excitement and arrogance was built upon steady grounds, because “The Dark Knight” not only fulfills the promise set by its predecessor, it raises the bar to a completely different level which films, not merely the ones inspired by comic books, rarely touch.
Nolan’s hyper realistic vision, gets under your skin and creates constant threat and fear, making this the most political film released so far this year as it deals with terrorism, impending cataclysms and seeping corruption without moralizing and going to absolutely dark places without becoming hopeless.
The Joker is Nolan’s biggest ally in this, because as a self professed lover of chaos he is as unpredictable and destructive as a force of nature.
Ledger’s performance is one of pure maniacal evil; wearing makeup he seems to have extracted from the ashes and blood of the dead, he moves like a sneaky creature. His scars are terrifying because you never learn where they come from (he delivers a different backstory to whoever he’s interested in destroying next) and whenever he’s not onscreen you fear what he will do next.
The whole film serves itself from this impending sense of doom, but Nolan is a master at keeping this feeling on various levels.
His idea of chaos doesn’t come only as obvious explosions and evident acts of terrorism (dealt with in thrilling and elaborated action sequences, where Wally Pfister’s cinematography shines and which the movie has plenty of), but the worst kind which grows inside all of his characters making them question the nature of good and evil.
Eckhart’s Dent begins as an idealistic politician, aided by his looks (which make him feel like Gary Cooper in a Capra film) and his defiant spirit, the actor brings a sense of optimistic sadness to Harvey, with Eckhart you feel the struggles he had to face to get where he’s at.
Those familiar with the Batman story (and sometimes the script becomes a bit predictable based on this need to satisfy its comic book roots) know that Dent will turn out for the worst and those that don’t, still will feel that he is too good to be true and will expect him to fulfill their need to be right and show his dark side.
Proving that Christopher and Jonathan Nolan’s screenplay has a point when it tackles people’s shaky view of moral grounds.
When you take into consideration that Dent and Wayne both are in love with the same woman (played by Gyllenhaal, more luminous than ever) and that fate plays a big deal in their lives, you realize that Dent is the real tragic figure of the story. He is the one the gods choose to play with.
In an ensemble that works wonders, Freeman as Lucius Fox and Caine as faithful butler Alfred, go beyond bringing the joy of their mere presences and deliver their lines with enough class to avoid being tagged as comedic relief.
Oldman’s Gordon anchors the film with a performance that draws from serenity and subtlety. His quiet manner and his strong belief in the good in others, especially in the slowly rotting system he’s part of, give the story its strongest axis of hope.
And Bale, who like Batman suffers from a syndrome of being given for granted, turns in the film’s most powerful performance as someone who has to take on all the troubles times two.
For his Bruce Wayne a line must be set between the careless playboy image and the part of him that comes closer to his alter ego and leads him to put his secret identity in jeopardy.
For his Batman a limit must be established between how strong is his will to fight injustice, without crossing to the side of lawlessness.
This is no ordinary superhero and Bale vanishes so much into both of them that even his character begins to feel shakable.
While we wonder what makes people choose between good and evil, Bale pushes us further and at moments makes us believe that Wayne is so selfish that as Batman he uses Gotham (designed by Nathan Crowley as a concrete labyrinth that rivals the mind in terms of dark alleys) as his personal playground or as his unlimited therapy session where he can battle his demons at the sake of others.
The Joker feeds from this sense of duality inside everyone and in the film’s greatest scene poses a dilemma of Melvillean proportions between the passengers of two ferries.
During these moments you can see “the whole world contained in one place” as people fighting for survival build democracy for contingencies, wonder about the paths they’ve taken in their lives and even dare to think they can decide who lives and who doesn’t.
Interestingly enough, here the audience also makes a choice and based on this personal decision the film will have a different outcome for anyone who watches it.
While for some it will instill the need to find the light shining in the darkest places, for others who have laughed at the Joker’s horrifying deeds it will just be a reassurance of apocalypse.
What remains true is that in “The Dark Knight”s sadomasochist view of the world the brave ones are those who wonder if we’ve become immune to other people’s pain; with the potential for the heroic lying in the path this leads them to.