LIFE

In questi ultimi anni, i cosiddetti “biopic” si sono sprecati.
Dalla Regina d’Inghilterra a Nelson Mandela, moltissimi dei personaggi che hanno fatto la storia hanno avuto diritto ad una loro rappresentazione più o meno degna sul grande schermo.
In realtà, devo ammettere di non essere una grande appassionata del genere.
Per i miei gusti, questi film sono spesso troppo agiografici, didascalici, prevedibili, e più la figura è moralmente “alta”, più mi pare che la qualità del film tiri verso il basso.
Poi, però, ci sono le eccezioni. Perché è possibile parlare di un personaggio realmente esistito senza farlo apparire una macchietta, o privo di sfumature, o un eroe preso dal sacro furore dell'arte o di una buona causa qualsiasi.
Ultimamente, ad esempio, mi è capitato di vedere Love & Mercy di Bill Pohlad, il film su Brian Wilson, il cantante dei Beach Boys, che è un esempio molto interessante di biopic.
Se ve lo siete perso, vale proprio la pena di recuperarlo:

E poi, l’altra sera, ho visto Life di Anton Corbijn, e allora ho capito che si possono fare ottime cose, nel campo delle biografie.
Del resto Corbijn non è nuovo all'impresa: già nel 2007, con il film Control, biografia di Ian Curtis, il cantante dei Joy Division suicidatosi a soli 24 anni, aveva dimostrato di avere un gran talento per raccontare storie vere e tormentate. Il regista, fotografo di formazione, è al suo quarto lungometraggio, e si è fatto le ossa dirigendo video e film dedicati ad un alcuni importantissimi gruppi come gli U2 e i Depeche Mode. In Life, ha l'ardire di portare sullo schermo una figura mitica, quella dell'attore americano James Dean (del quale, il 30 Settembre, ricorrerà il 60° anniversario della morte).

James Dean fotografato da Dennis Stock nella sua camera di NY - 1955

La prima cosa originale del film, è il punto di vista che Corbijn adotta, e che non è - come si potrebbe pensare - quello di Dean, bensì del vero protagonista della storia: il fotografo Dennis Stock. Stock nel ‘55 è un fotografo di belle speranze, con velleità d’artista ma costretto a scattare foto alle star di Hollywood sui red carpet o alle feste dei produttori.
E’ proprio ad una di queste feste che incontra per caso James Dean, allora quasi sconosciuto. Un semplice attore che, notato in teatro a NY, è stato chiamato a LA per partecipare a Est of Eden di Elia Kazan. Quando i due uomini si incontrano, il film ancora non è uscito, e Dean è solo un nome che in pochi conoscono. Stock, tuttavia, “sente” che quel ragazzo sta per diventare famoso, e propone a Life, il magazine per cui lavora, un servizio fotografico con lui. Sarà difficile convincere sia il giornale che James Dean, ma alla fine la cosa andrà in porto. E dopo qualche scatto a NY, tra cui quello celeberrimo di Dean sotto la pioggia a Times Square, i due partono per l’Indiana, nella fattoria in cui Dean è cresciuto. Al loro ritorno in città, esce il film di Kazan e Dean scopre di essere stato scelto per Rebel without a Cause di Nicholas Ray, che lo consacra a simbolo di tutta una nuova generazione. 
Sei mesi dopo, morirà in un incidente stradale. E il resto - come si dice in questi casi - è storia.

James Dean (Dane Dehaan) e Dennis Stock (Robert Pattinson)

Quello che mi è sempre piaciuto dei film di Corbijn è che hanno tutti una vena malinconica fortissima, una specie di patina di tristezza che li avvolge, li smorza, li contiene, e li rende anche speciali. 
I protagonisti dei suoi film sono tutti essere umani un po’ disperati. Uomini che vivono uno scarto pesante rispetto alla realtà, che stanno un po’ ai margini della società, uomini ultra-sensibili che possono essere facilmente  feriti dagli altri e dal mondo. Era vero per Ian Curtis ma anche per il personaggio di George Clooney in The American (2010) e per quello di Philip Seymour Hoffman (nella sua dolentissima ultima interpretazione) in A most wanted man (2014):

Dennis Stock e James Dean non fanno eccezione, in questa galleria di uomini sull’orlo di una crisi di disperazione. Ed è proprio qui che sta la magia del film. Nessuno dei due è messo bene: Stock deve fare i conti con un matrimonio fallito, un pessimo rapporto con il figlio piccolo, una carriera che non decolla, un costante problema di soldi, Dean con un passato familiare doloroso, una carriera incerta, la sua incapacità di vivere secondo i dettami di Holywood (party, prime dei film, interviste “finte”, e tutto il politically correct del caso), un rapporto d’amore sacrificato al successo e, forse, la sua stessa vera sessualità.
Corbijn riesce a fare in modo che a parlare siano più i dubbi che le certezze, il dolore più che la felicità, gli uomini più che i personaggi famosi, ed è così che riesce a fare un vero film, non un semplice biopic.

Dean by Dean

Dean by Dehaan

Ma è nel cast, il tocco di genio di Corbijn.
Anziché affidare, come tutti si aspetterebbero, il ruolo del bello e dannato ad un attore famoso, pure lui un po’ bello e dannato versione 3.0 come Robert Pattinson (che, sia detto per inciso, in questi anni sta dimostrando quanto sia bravo e si sta costruendo una carriera di tutto rispetto, alla faccia di quelli che sono rimasti fermi a Twilight), che fa?
Fa fare a lui il fotografo in cerca di gloria e affida il ruolo di Dean ad un attore semi-sconosciuto ma dal talento portentoso (chiunque lo abbia visto nella stagione 3 di In Treatment sa di cosa parlo): Dane Dehaan.

James Dean (Dane Dehaan)

Il Dean di Dehaan (sì, suona buffo, lo ammetto) è un magnifico esempio di recitazione sotto le righe. 
E’ tutto uno stare in bilico, tutto un tormento interiore, e Dehaan sa esattamente fin dove può spingersi (come nella magistrale scena della cena sul treno).
E c’è una strana corrispondenza tra il momento che viveva Dean e quello che sta vivendo Dehaan. 
Alle soglie del successo entrambi. 
Speriamo solo che il secondo non ami andare troppo forte in macchina.

The Oscars 2013 - Part 4: The Governors Ball

I have to confess I didn’t know about the existence of a thing called Governors Ball until the previous day, when I received the invitation to attend it. On the card there was written: Hollywood & Highland, Ray Dolby Ballroom, Immediately Following the Ceremony.

Once the Oscars were over, in fact, we have been invited to reach the top floor of the theater building: before entering the hall, there was the usual wall of journalists and photographers waiting for the stars, and those immense reflectors that, believe me, are the most annoying things on planet earth. The life of a star is a tough one…. how can you resist making an interview under those liquefying lights? The Governors Ball was taking place in an enormous, quite dark space, with an orchestra on the far left side, round tables elegantly set up everywhere and few big tables on the corners covered with food. I guess a place like El Morocco in the 20s should look like this.

I immediately understood that all the stars, sooner or later, would be passing by. And I was right. 
As a matter of fact, there were too many stars arriving. Helped by the first glass of champagne (at empty stomach), I started walking around: Jean Dujardin was the first in my line of vision. He was by himself, and I knew he doesn’t speak English super well, so I thought I could talk to him in French. Yes, good idea! but when I started walking towards him, Alexander Payne crossed my path. Oh, I love your cinema! I wanted to tell him. Yes, but just in front of him there was George Clooney with an absolutely irresistible beard, smiling.

What am I supposed to do now??! It was impossible to choose, believe me, so I just walked around enjoying the funny scenes I had the opportunity to look at, like Adele, Barbra Streisand and Shirley Bassey drinking and laughing all together, or Jason Gordon Levitt posing for pictures with Amy Adams and the-most-gorgeous-woman-in-the-universe, Ms. Charlize Theron (and her fabulous, new short haircut!).

 After a while, it was pretty clear that tables were naturally arranging around every Oscar movie: there was the Argo area, the Life of Pi area, and the Lincoln area, where I was. I was introduced to Steven Spielberg. My boss explained to him I was a cinema freak. Spielberg told me: "I love that you love cinema!" The second glass of champagne didn’t help: I felt like we were old friends and that it was actually normal talking to him.

Anyway, where is Daniel??! I wanted to scream. His family was there, all the actors from Lincoln were there, the director was there. And there he was, all of a sudden, the happiest man I have ever seen in all my life:

I looked at him, completely and utterly mesmerized by his smiling, his joyful expression, his way of walking and talking. Everybody wanted to say something, to shake hands, to compliment him. He was looking around, clearly enjoying every minute of it, distributing with equal magnanimity smiles and thank you. I could have stayed there forever. When I was about to approach him, Daniel Day Lewis looked around and said: "Could somebody bring me to my wife? I didn’t see Rebecca since I had the Oscar!" What a lovely and romantic thing to say… but the problem was that somebody actually brought him to Rebecca and soon afterwards they seated down at a table and started to eat. I was panicking. I missed my chance to talk to him. Definitely. So stupid of me! I was there with a desperate expression on my face when Heather, from the Academy, saw me and asked me what was going on. I explained. She said: "Let’s go, there is just one life, and we have to take advantage of it." And off she went towards Daniel. We arrived from behind him. She put a hand on his shoulder, and Daniel looked up at her: "I’m sorry to bother you Daniel, but there is an Italian woman who would like to tell you something." Day Lewis looked at me, smiling, and making a gesture with his hand, meaning: come, no worries. When I arrived, he gave me his right hand, I took it and I didn’t let it go until the end of my love declaration. Daniel listened carefully to my speech, having - I guess - a lot of fun. When I told him I have been following his career since I was 15 years old, he raised his eyebrow, and he commented: wow! He kept telling me thank you, smiling, and squeezing my hand every time I said something nice (basically every two seconds).

I don’t remember anything about the end of that scene. I was completely blown away by the events, and so I started walking around the place without a destination. 

And it was then that I saw Mads Mikkelsen walking in my direction. Alone.

Before I could even think what I was doing, I walked towards him.

He didn’t have a choice: he had to stop, because I went right in front of him saying: Hello!
Mikkelsen looked at me (down at me, because he is pretty tall): Hello!
- I’m a huge fan of yours!
- Oh, thank you!
- Actually, I have a cinema blog, and every year I give my personal Oscars, and this year you have won the award for Best Actor!
- Oh, really? For which movie?
(Is he really asking me this? I thought in a brief moment of lucidity)
- For Jagten! (are you impressed? – I wanted to add – that I quote the movie's original Danish title?)
- Oh, that’s a very good movie. Did you like it?
- Sure, a lot, this is also why I decided to give you this price.
Mikkelsend looked at me: And the price consists of...?
Dear readers, believe me or not, when he asked me that, I moved closer, I put my arms around him, and I kissed him on his right cheek.
Mikkelsen was puzzled: Oh, well… nice price! Thank you!
- You’re very welcomed!
- I have to go now, because I have friends waiting for me, but it was nice meeting you.
- The same for me! And while I was looking at him disappearing into the crowd, I thought: And you’re lucky I didn’t give you the Man of my Life Award…. Otherwise you wouldn’t make it out just with one kiss, darling!
To celebrate, I took a picture of myself as a real star:

The Governors Ball was over. On our way out we saw Christoph Waltz drinking coffee with the Oscar under his right arm and Tim Burton with a broken arm, and then we started waiting for our limousine to pick us up.

There was one more thing to do… the night was still young!

Fantastic Mr. Fox

 

 Having a soft spot for Wes Anderson, I was ready to love his new movie Fantastic Mr. Fox, but I wasn’t prepared to adore it.

Based upon a children novel by English writer Roald Dahl (the very first book that Anderson received as a gift when he was 7 years old), the movie has been made in a very sophisticated yet very sweet stop-motion animated technique. 

Mr. Fox, his wife Felicity and their son Ash live a decent life in a decent hole but Mr. Fox, who promised to his wife two years earlier to give up stealing poultry as a job, is dreaming big dreams and he decides (against his lawyer’s advise) to buy a new home inside a lovely tree.

Once settled down, Mr. Fox (now a journalist) is unable to resist to the temptation of stealing from his new neighbours, the awful farmers Boggis, Bunce and Bean. Helped by his friend, the opossum Kylie, and by the sweet and smart Kristofferson (Mr. Fox’s nephew), they managed to steal many products from the three bad guys, but then they have to face their terrible revenge. To escape from it, Mr. Fox and his family dig a deep tunnel under the three farms, finding a bunch of other animals whose houses have been destroyed by the fury of Boggis, Bunce and Bean. After many adventures (more stealing, a flooding, a starvation problem, and various attacks), Mr. Fox and his friends will be able to outflank the enemies and be happy again (with great news coming along…).

I’ve always loved obsessive filmmakers.

Artists that, no matter how many movies their career is made of, will always talk about the same few things.

Let’s say no more than three themes per film, and Anderson is definitely one of them.

What he has created, film after film (6 in total), is a very personal world, parallel to the real one, where you can recognise the same characters, the same kind of situations, the same sense of humour, the same difficulties to face, the same happiness to look for. The fact that Anderson often uses the same actors to play in his movies just magnifies this sensation: Jason Schwartzman, the Wilson brothers, Bill Murray and Anjelica Huston, to name few of them, are part of the Anderson family. The filmmaker even writes his stories with the same people, especially with his friends Noah Baumbach and Owen Wilson.

In his cinema, the complexity of family's ties is central. As well as the difficulties of growing up. Very often, there is a character that feels at odd with the rest of humanity: usually a hyper-sensitive, hyper-intelligent, not very sporty, totally nerd, funny and romantic guy who is in trouble to find his place into his family and into the real world (my favourite one is still Max Fischer from Rushmore, but little Ash from Fantastic Mr. Fox is another good example of it).

In this last movie, it is incredible to see how much andersonian looks the world imagined by Dahl.

 

 And somehow, having animated puppets instead of human beings, gives to Anderson's world a deeper resonance, a lighter breath and a heightened sensibility. For sure, the "voices" chosen were pivotal in creating these great effects: George Clooney as Mr. Fox, Meryl Streep as Mrs. Fox, Jason Schwartzman as Ash, Willem Dafoe as Rat, Bill Murray as Badger... they're all more than perfect, but the little miracle here is the adorable Kristofferson's voice (courtesy of Wes Anderson's younger brother, Eric).

A last word about the music, that in Anderson's cinema always plays a very important role and it is amazingly used.

In Fantastic Mr. Fox, I was happily surprised by a song written and performed by Jarvis Cocker (now that I think about it, he is SO perfect for Anderson's universe!) but even more delighted to hear a couple of scores by Georges Delerue taken from two different Truffaut’s movies: Les Deux Anglaises et le Continent and La Nuit Américaine.

This last one is actually the same used by Zazie for her tribute to Truffaut in one of her first posts for this blog.

Well, Mr. Anderson, it looks like we have faith in the same God...