The Woman in Black ***

Director: James Watkins
Cast: Daniel Radcliffe, Ciarán Hinds, Janet McTeer
Sophie Stuckey, Liz White, Misha Handley

It's almost impossible to look at Daniel Radcliffe and not think of a certain boy wizard who plagued movie screens for an entire decade. His face became synonymous with the idea of typecasting and viewers should not feel guilty about having a hard time pretending he's someone else while watching The Woman in Black.
Kudos must be given to the young actor who is trying so hard to show audiences they haven't seen the last of him, however this is nary a benefit for him when his physiognomy evokes such blandness that he becomes a blank slate for whoever's directing him. Try as he does, onscreen Radcliffe can only muster two emotions: surprise and fear.
Luckily for him, his face is more than fit for this adaptation of Susan Hill's horror novel, which has him play the lead character of Arthur Kipps, a widowed London solicitor asked to handle Eel Marsh House, the estate of the late Alice Drablow. He travels to the remote village where he is welcomed by locals with unbecoming hostility. The reason? They think that Eel House is haunted by the ghost of a mysterious woman who is slowly eradicating the town's children. Not one to take superstitions seriously, Arthur visits the house where soon enough strange things begin to happen.
There is nothing particularly extraordinary about The Woman in Black, other than the fact that it's such a delightful throwback to atmospheric horror movies. It forgoes any signs of gore or extreme violence, in favor of creepy ambiance which paired with expertly crafted production design and efficient cinematography produce chills the likes of which we rarely get anymore.
The film might've been improved if the writers had put more emphasis in the fascinating dichotomy that lies between the advent of technology and the disappearance of the ghost story. Throughout the film there are numerous mentions to how machines have been used to move forward and leave behind superstition, something that becomes altogether more haunting during a scene in which a series of macabre wind toys perform a demonic symphony.
Throughout, Radcliffe does his best to look pale enough not to be confused with one of the movie's actual ghosts, while talented thespians like Hinds and McTeer chew the scenery with such subtle gusto that they are the ones mustering the real magic.

Short Takes: "One Day" and "The Debt".

Even if it never makes justice to the book it's based on (the eponymous novel written by David Nicholls), One Day is an often delightful romance powered by pure star wattage and a great - albeit slightly gimmicky - concept. The film follows the relationship between Emma (Anne Hathaway) and Dexter (Jim Sturgess) over the course of two decades, but does so by showing what they do on the exact date they met. We see them grow from awkward college graduates to decently rounded adults; they survive destructive relationships, family tragedies, divorces, career and country changes etc. and the one thing that remains constant throughout is their love for one another.

Perhaps the novel's reach is a bit too ample to turn it into a small romantic comedy (it certainly would've been wonderful as a miniseries that took longer to flesh out Em and Dex better) because as it is, we often have a hard time knowing why the characters do what they do. Even if they never become mere archetypes - he of the fun-loving lothario and she of the obsessive control freak - we feel cheated, like we could've benefited more from knowing what they do on the dates we don't get to see.

Directed with a precise hand by Lone Scherfig (who follows the joyful style she used in An Education) the film has moments of marvel as well as scenes that seem to drag forever. Fortunately most flaws can be overlooked because of the performers. Sturgess is unusually passive, almost lacking in the exuberance needed to turn Dexter into a character we could hate and then fall in love with, however his quiet performance reveals that Dexter is a man who never knows himself fully (his scenes with Patricia Clarkson, who plays his mom, are violently delicate).

Hathaway - who sadly never mastered the required British accent - is all smiles and wide eyed contempt as Emma. As usual, Hathaway grabs a simple character and layers it with the kind of star quality few performers can add (only Julia Roberts lights up the screen with the same ease) while keeping a deep humanity that reaches to you beyond the screen. The film is by no means perfect (although the ending might just leave you weeping) but it works because of its utter sincerity. Few films nowadays are so straightforward about breaking your heart.

You gotta give it to John Madden: he's one versatile filmmaker! His constant traveling of genre to genre (he directed Shakespeare in Love and Proof) have turned him into the equivalent of a studio era director, who worked under producers and got little input to create his own authorial signature. With that said, he doesn't hit the mark in his espionage thriller The Debt, a decade spanning film that follows the lives of three former Mossad agents from their first big mission, to the fame it eventually brings them.
The spies are played by Jessica Chastain, Marton Csokas and Sam Worthington as young agents trying to catch a deranged Nazi surgeon in the 1970s. Their mature versions are played by Helen Mirren, Tom Wilkinson and Ciarán Hinds respectively (in a quite good casting decision). They all come together in their old age to settle a secret they've been living with for decades, the film then uses flashbacks to show us what marked and bonded them forever.
The main issue with the film is how Madden tries to trick us, only to then reveal how entire scenes are nothing but lies. This never works because in the film's context - which most certainly isn't an artistic exercise a la Antonioni - all the scenes seem to be fact based. His idea of toying with perception is indeed respectable but the execution is sloppy and often causes confusion (did we see right or were we dozing off mid-screening?).
Mirren is fantastic as usual but the best in show honor goes to Chastain who plays her character with an angsty vitality one would only attribute to someone like, well, Mirren. She conveys such a damaged past that we only have to see in her eyes to understand where she's coming from and why she's doing what she does. Few performances are this magnetic and exciting, anyone looking for a new action heroine, take note.

Grades:
One Day ***
The Debt **½

The Rite *

Director: Mikael Håfström

Cast: Anthony Hopkins, Colin O'Donoghue

Marta Gastini, Ciarán Hinds, Alice Braga, Toby Jones

Chris Marquette, Rutger Hauer

In a world that, now more than ever, steers away from the path of religion, it's curious to see how Hollywood has remained utterly fascinated with the rite of exorcism. The Catholic "procedure" of extracting Satan out of a possessed victim has spawned film classics (and their preposterous sequels) and urban legends among other things.

Considering that only 23.9% of the American population is Catholic, we could say that exorcism fascinates the remaining percentage so much because it's not really threatening to their faith.

Then, if only Catholics can be possessed by the devil, why do people still want to see movies about them? Why not do more serial killer or evil alien movies?

True, Catholicism is still one of the most popular religions on the planet (with over a billion believers spread over more than 150 countries) but perhaps what still drives people to movies about exorcism is how they've become sensationalist metaphors for, well, fighting their own demons.

The Rite is the latest installment in the "exorcism as coming-of-age" school and continues the tradition of imposing Oedipal theories in a religion that's already known for its worshiping of the father figure.

In this case, undertaker Michael Kovak (O'Donoghue) decides to escape from his father (Hauer) by enrolling in a seminary school and leaving before being ordained. When the time comes he's persuaded by his mentor (Jones) to give priesthood a try by going to Rome and becoming an exorcist. Said persuasion is mostly blackmail but we understand how anyone would want to stay away from a house filled with dead bodies and Rutger Hauer...

Michael leaves to Rome where he continues his skeptical attitude about faith until he meets Father Lucas (Hopkins), an Irish hermit, part Hannibal Lecter part Saint Francis of Assisi, who specializes in extracting demons from people, whether by tricks or "actual" exorcism.

Most of the movie centers on the case of Rosaria (Gastini) a pregnant Italian teenager who vomits bloody nails and speaks in foreign languages. While Michael suggests a shrink, Lucas sprinkles the child with holy water and reads Bible passages.

Their opposing points of view are then tested when the movie takes a twist so obvious you can't help but roll your eyes. Suddenly Michael finds the perfect opportunity to use his recent experiences, to, wait for this...exorcise his own demons.

Suddenly the movie is no longer about devils, nails and creepy cats but about Michael finally getting rid of his issues with his father basically by replacing him with another father figure.

The movie could've explored the psychological implications this strategy has had to help religious fanatics shy away from their problems by exchanging figures from their own lives for omnipotent symbols they don't need to deal with on a human level.

And The Rite doesn't even work as a scary movie either; other than the "sudden scare", the film lacks conviction in the terrifying traits of its screenplay. What should've been atmospheric is blasphemously cheap, what should've been creepy results crappy.

Hopkins adds unnecessary gravitas to roles that from now on should be called "Oscar winners hamming up their acting chops to regain notoriety" and O'Donoghue, while pretty, lacks presence as the protagonist.

The Rite as a whole is a movie that's more confused about its own beliefs than its own characters. Does it want to be scary? Prescient? Campy? An acting showcase? A biopic? A criticism to Catholicism? A praise of Catholic faith?

Whatever the answer is, the film truly lacks spirit.

Life During Wartime ***

Director: Todd Solondz
Cast: Shirley Henderson, Allison Janney, Ally Sheedy
Ciarán Hinds, Paul Reubens, Michael K. Williams, Michael Lerner
Dylan Riley Snyder, Christopher Marquette, Renée Taylor
Charlotte Rampling

Last we saw the Jordan sisters-Joy, Trish and Helen-they were going through some heavy issues. Joy, was trying to overcome her lover's suicide and find an emotionally balanced man, Trish was coming to terms with her husband Bill's arrest on charges of pedophilia and Helen was coping with the burdens of artistic expression.
The year was 1998, the film was Happiness and all these characters were being played by different actors.
It's impossible not to wonder why Solondz would want to revisit these characters in the first place. These weren't people you exactly wanted to spend more time with; they were damaged, cruel, painful to watch and most of the time impossible to empathize with.
Perhaps this is why he cast new actors, to provide these familiar people with different shades, to make their return easier to assimilate or is there something more metaphysical to all this and the drastic change is meant to symbolize how much these people have actually been transformed (it's also interesting to wonder if this film will appeal to those who haven't seen the original).
Joy is now played by Henderson who infuses her with an elfish vulnerability. The film starts in the same way Happiness did and for a second or two we wonder if Solondz is trying to parody his own movie. Joy even says she feels "just a little deja vu" and as the film advances, the screenplays throws in all sorts of meta references and stunt casting (Reubens plays the ghost of Joy's ex-lover and it's inevitable to avoid associating another character with Reuben's own past).
Janney's Trish is a sad combination of hope and regret, the actress tones down on the bitchiness of her predecessor and turns Trish into someone a bit more human. Her relationship with her son Timmy (Snyder) is the equivalent of the one her husband (Hinds) had with their son Billy (Marquette) in the prequel.
Watching her discuss rape with her child doesn't have the morbidness one would expect. It's not as if Solondz gets pleasure out of scandalizing, it just shows how these characters must cope with the complications of being parents, for what exactly can be defined as good parenting?
Are they better off by concealing sexual concepts from their children or are they doing good by being explicit about what goes on during intercourse. In fact one of the film's "twists" has a lot to do with misconception and mis-communication on this subject.
The overall theme of the film is the quest to fulfill the adage of "forgive and forget", Solondz asks us how are these characters supposed to act when their country is at war.
Timmy brings up terrorism all the time and he interrogates his mom's boyfriend (Lerner) about his opinions on matter he finds imperious.
But what are we supposed to make of the characters' coldness, emotional messes, perversions and such, when the fact is that the war mentioned isn't even being fought in their country?
Are they shielding themselves from accepting that maybe they too have responsibility in their own lives? Before they can move on and forget we have to wonder if these characters will be able to forgive themselves for starters.

Stop-Loss *

Director: Kimberly Peirce
Cast: Ryan Phillippe, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Channing Tatum
Abbie Cornish, Ciarán Hinds, Tymothy Olyphant, Mamie Gummer

It took almost a decade for Kimberly Peirce to realize that boys do cry...a lot apparently.
Her sophomore film takes on the Iraq war with the same intentions films like "The Deer Hunter" (even casting Gummer who despite family ties is sadly no Meryl Streep) and "The Best Years of Our Lives" did for their respective time periods in the past.
And the one sad truth that can be extracted from her film is precisely the fact that war, not just the one in Iraq but the concept itself, has been going on for too long already.
The rest feels like "Dawson's Creek" goes to war as we see a bunch of pretty guys return to their Texas hometown and try to re-insert themselves into society.
Phillippe plays Brandon King, the leader of the group who is stop-lossed (some sort of contractual army thing that deems you can be called back to service despite your leave). This challenges all his notions on what he thought life would be and forces him to wonder if the war was worth fighting for.
Then again is there somewhere in the planet who thinks so? "Stop-Loss" never really says anything new and instead infuses its lack of purpose with melodramatic twists that make the story feel forced and redundant.
Arriving under the MTV Films banner, the movie tries its best to attract young people by relying on hunky men, quick edits and hard rock montages that only serve in alienating the heart the film so much wants to reveal.
The cast does a satisfying job, especially Tatum as the rebel of the group who shows promising range and Cornish (looking like a hybrid of Drew Barrymore and Charlize Theron) who gives the film its only moments of grace.
But the screenplay uses the characters indiscriminately as examples and archetypes instead of building interesting stories through which we can connect to them.
They often refer to events in Iraq as "this war", as if it was something completely external to them. Which somehow is considering this is a movie and the people are fictitious, but we need to believe they aren't!
Peirce's film comes at a moment where the world has become infected with apathy and her unaffecting characters never touch any sentiments in the audience.
One of the film's montages features a title card that reads "we will remember", the same can not be said of this film.

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day **

Director: Bharat Nalluri
Cast: Frances McDormand, Amy Adams
Lee Pace, Ciarán Hinds, Shirley Henderson
Tom Payne, Mark Strong

"What a difference a day made and the difference is you" goes the 1934 standard that fits this film like a glove.
Set in 1940's London, with the kind of naivete reserved for fluff entertainment of the era, the plot follows governess Guinevere Pettigrew (McDormand) over the length of a day when she finds herself out of a job and is forced to steal another colleague's client: the extravagant, bubbly American cabaret singer Delysia Lafosse (Adams) who has to choose between a club owner (the seductively wicked Strong), a young theater producer (Payne) and a penniless jazz pianist (Pace).
For Miss Pettigrew, who is used to dealing with children, and has gone through extreme poverty, Delysia's misadventures come off as a a bit of a slap in the face.
While for Delysia, who must deal with fashion and boy trouble, Pettigrew's old world knowledge serves as an instant rock of wisdom.
But what the film lacks is a midpoint between these too obvious extremes, which bode well for children's fairy tales, but lack the spice needed to work as an adult farce.
McDormand, although reliable as usual, is completely miscast, in a role that merely uses her to deliver "inspiring" lines that would fit Mary Poppins better.
The director seems to ignore that McDormand is a brilliantly dark comedienne who would've had no trouble exploring what lies beyond the "too good to be true" facade of Pettigrew.
This leaves the entire film to be owned by the ever improving Adams, who is so good at playing airheaded, that you never doubt her sincerity in the part. Watching her combination of sensuality with innocence is a real pleasure and during a musical sequence, she even gives Delysia shades of real, heartwrenching humanity.
The plot leaves no room for surprise (other than what fabulous gown will Adams sport next) because it uses every single element to lead us to an expected resolution.
This film could've easily been served from what it shows the most and uses the less: its divine eye for period design, which is left on a second level as it tries hard to deliver cheap philosophy intended to remind us that every day must be lived as if it was our last.
What "Miss Pettigrew" doesn't know is that the feeling it tries so hard to express, was effortlessly conveyed in movies of the era (think "Bringing Up Baby" or "To Be Or Not to Be"), which for their cinematic qualities also made the audience's lives much better in the process.