Reprise (4 1/2 stars)
Directed by Joachim Trier. Written by Joachim Trier and Eskil Vogt. With Anders Danielsen Lie, Espen Klouman-Hoiner, Viktoria Winge. (R)
Danish writer/director Joachim Trier hits it out of the park with Reprise, his first feature-length work. Part coming-of-age film and part literary puzzle, the film, shot in Trier's adopted home of Norway, is a compelling story about the achievement of youthful dreams and the surprising ways in which we find contentment.
Erik and Phillip are childhood friends whose lives have moved in tandem. Both harbor literary ambitions, and as the film opens the pair are bucking up the courage to submit their manuscripts. "This is where it all begins," says one, and when we see their envelopes drop into a mailbox, the packages wait in the dark with all the urgency of ticking bombs.
In the first burst of what becomes an intermittent narration, we're granted a look inside the budding authors' minds. But what they imagine for themselves—romantic and grandiose notions that their books will foment revolutions and disillusion religious leaders—bumps up against a harsher reality when Erik's book is rejected. Phillip's work, meanwhile, becomes a national sensation, and the young author finds himself thrust into the spotlight and all its inherent heat.
The story takes another turn when Erik's reworked manuscript is finally accepted. Here the film opens up, becoming something truly rich as the veil slips from Erik's early ideas of fame. As he grows as a writer, he finds himself increasingly alone, distanced from the macho posturing of his group of friends and cut off from Phillip, who is living in a pharmaceutical haze after a spectacular breakdown. At some point, he'll need to ask if the time has come to break with the past.
Trier tells his story with tools drawn from literature—flashbacks, omniscient narration—but makes them feel naturally cinematic by playing with his camerawork. Never too flashy, his subtle changes in tone and viewpoint slowly reveal the details that build to complete his characters. It's a restrained performance, in keeping with the clean lines and uncluttered design of the Norwegian setting. There are also a number of details that will draw a smile from lit students everywhere: the Roland Barthes book casually left on an end table, or Erik carefully placing his newly published book among the titles on his shelf.
The amazing thing is that Trier never stoops to the default depiction of authorship that is so common in film: the feverish inspiration, the crumpled balls of discarded drafts. Even the enigmatic Sten Egil Dahl, a Salinger-like figure who looms large in Erik and Phillip's personal mythology, turns out to be perfectly normal—a man out walking with his dog.
Perhaps that's because the film isn't simply about a writer. Though it makes some points about the nature of publishing today, the deeper vein running through Reprise is coming to terms with who you are, and accepting that it isn't always who you thought it would be. Sometimes that means letting go of a dream, and shaking yourself awake.
The Dark Knight (3 stars)
Directed by Christopher Nolan. Written by Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan, based on the DC comic. With Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Aaron Eckhart, Michael Caine, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Gary Oldman, Morgan Freeman, and Eric Roberts. (PG-13)
Really? PG-13? When Frank Miller's Bat-noir comic was released in the mid-'80s, it ushered in the "comics aren't just for kids" revolution with its very adult violence and grim worldview, and in its film version, The Dark Knight often comes close to matching the carnage of the print series that helped inspire it. Major characters are blown to pieces, scarred for life, shot, sliced and stabbed. Not to be alarmist—there's certainly worse out there—but maybe this one isn't for the young ones.
What it is is a grand experiment, an attempt to elevate the superhero story to Godfather status, using Gotham and The Joker as stand-ins for New York and The Don. It never reaches that epic level—in the end, there's no getting past the fact that the star of the film wears a cape—but it's a worthy effort from director Christopher Nolan, whose Batman Begins brought a refreshing reality (relative to superhero flicks) to what had devolved into a laughingstock of a franchise.
Nolan isn't interested in telling just another hero/villain story. Instead he puts humanity up for inspection, poking and prodding at our darker impulses and asking where our thresholds lie. In one of the film's showier turns, The Joker suggests that the public murder a single innocent man within an hour; do it, and he'll call off the hospital bombings he has planned. It's an old question—would you kill one to save thousands?—and judging by the enthusiastic mob, the people of Gotham say yes.
As The Joker, the late Heath Ledger's performance largely lives up to its incredible hype; he's the true star of the film, giving the villain a surprisingly seductive edge that draws you in despite his many misdeeds. He's not your usual villain. Conducting what he calls his "social experiments" for little real reason (when he finds himself sitting on millions, he burns the money), he revels in the anarchy he unleashes. While Batman tries to puzzle him out, manservant Alfred sagely opines that "some men just want to watch the world burn."
But Batman, too, has turned into something of a social experiment. Groups of vigilantes inspired by his crime-fighting have begun to spring up; dressed in homemade Bat-suits, they're as much a menace to themselves as to criminals, and a reason for Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) to question the worth of his alter-ego's mission. (One of them meets a death sure to shock—it brought startled crying in the theater where I saw the film.) When fearless, idealistic D.A. Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) starts dismantling Gotham's crime syndicates, it seems that the need for Batman is coming to an end, something Wayne claims to look forward to. His on-and-off love interest Rachel (Maggie Gyllenhaal) isn't so sure he's ready to give up his secret life.
It's a strange thing that Bale is so much better as Wayne than as Batman. Whenever he suits up, the action kicks in, but interest often droops—something about the stiff physicality of the costume has always been a problem in this series. Add to that the relentlessly dark palette of the film, and the nominal star is often lost in the murky scenes of fast-moving mayhem. (It's telling that so much of the best action in Batman Begins takes place before Wayne dons the tights.) The strange decision always to have Batman speak in a hoarse whisper doesn't help, either.
The movie is at its best in the third act, but getting there—the film is two and a half hours long—takes some endurance, mostly due to a weak script. At once full of holes and freighted with exposition, it's the work of Jonathan Nolan, whose only credits are on films his director brother has helmed. Here it feels like he's taken on more threads than he's able to weave together. When the actors are given strong material to work with, as Ledger is, the film feels bigger than its story; most of the time, we're just waiting for him to return.
Mamma Mia! (1 1/2 stars)
Directed by Phyllida Lloyd. Written by Catherine Johnson. With Meryl Streep, Amanda Seyfried, Stellan Skarsg?rd, Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth, Julie Waters, and Christine Baranski. (PG-13)
If you've ever felt the acute embarrassment brought on by watching a slightly drunk aunt doing the macarena at a wedding, there's little need to see Mamma Mia! If you are that aunt, you will probably love this film and will likely spend the next few months telling everyone you know about it. Aunts can stop reading now.
For everyone else, there's little to recommend in this film. Based on the hit stage musical, it's a collection of dusty ABBA hits shoehorned into a flimsy story about finding love. Meryl Streep stars as Donna, a one-time singer in an all-girl band who retired to a Greek island to run a dilapidated hotel and raise her daughter. Now about to be married, daughter Sophia (Amanda Seyfried) wants to meet the father she never knew.
She steals mom's diary to get the dirt, but there's a catch—Donna got around, and the father could be one of three men. There's Sam (Pierce Brosnan), Bill (Stellan Skarsg?rd), and Harry (Colin Firth), none of whom have seen Donna in 20 years, but all of whom drop everything to travel around the world when they get Sophia's wedding invitation.
None of the three know the real reason they've been invited, and there's a lot of hugger-mugger comedy built around Sophia keeping the men hidden from her unsuspecting mom. Helping her out are her two best friends—everyone here moves in groups of three, so they'll have backup singers when they break into song. It doesn't take long to put two and two together, and soon all three men are having thoughts of fatherhood.
In the meantime, Donna's two friends are conspiring to land her a mate. There's Tanya (Christine Baranski), an aging man-eater who recalls Joanna Lumley in her Absolutely Fabulous heyday, and Rosie (Julie Waters), a diminutive sparkplug who seems to be the one person in the film with any sense of rhythm. Three men, three women, beautiful island setting: if it seems clear where this going, it should. Not everything falls precisely into place—Firth's Harry is given a tender if awkwardly introduced escape hatch—but on the whole, the film doesn't surprise.
What should be the reason for it all is the musical numbers, yet they all fall flat. It feels wrong, watching Streep prance around in platforms and boas. By most accounts one of the greatest actresses of her generation, she's reduced here to a level of ham rarely seen outside an Oscar Mayer factory. Perhaps within the confines of the stage, with a live audience, all this works as well as its long run suggests; transferred to the screen, it's a gaudy mess.
Jack Brown can be reached at cinemadope@gmail.com.
