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Two reviews for the prices of one
Oct. 6th, 2013 06:54 pmBehind the Candelabra: which just got released in my part of the world in the cinemas, whereas in the US it was shown on tv, supposedly because it was "too gay" for American cinema. To which I say: pull the other one. Then again, what do I know? I'm a decadent European. Anyway, when watching, it struck me that it actually does feel very tv bio pic like, or maybe that's too unkindly phrased for a film which entertained me and which did present two excellent performances. But here's the thing: at the very end, it offers a narrative cheat, and because it's based on two actual people, it broke me out of my suspension of disbelief which it may not have done if I had thought the two leads were invented. ( Spoilery explanation as to what I mean ensues. )
As for the rest of the film: Liberace having been a piano player/showman/ Las Vegas act extraordinaire not withstanding, this feels firmly in the tradition of Hollywood-on-Hollywood. Older star meets pretty young thing, pretty young thing moves in and is emotionally and physically devoured, emotional beats going from adoration to bitchiness and boredom to vicious argument, you've heard this story before. There are even the double overtones of satire (and the one liners fly) and horror story that you can find in, say, Sunset Boulevard: rarely have I seen facelifts done on screen, and never in a way that made them feel viscerally gruesome, to compete with any monster conjured up in a slasher film. It's all the more effective because we've been invited to regard the doctor performing the operation, played by Rob Lowe with glee and an amazing make up that makes him look permanently lifted himself, as comic relief at first. Mind you, the lines getting the most laughs in the Munich cinema I saw the movie in were some comparing the main character to a local guy: explaining to young and naive Scott about Liberace's mindset, a mutual friend says "Lee thinks he's Ludwig II.?" Quoth young Scott: "Who is Ludwig II.?" "The Liberace of Bavaria." We, being Ludwig II.'s subjects, or rather the descendants of same, loved this one, of course. (Sidenote: I can totally see the point of the comparison, taste in decorating wise, but Ludwig was morbidly people shy whereas Liberace loves his audience, so it doesn't quite fit.)
One virtue of the film is that despite all the larger-than-life camp and grotesque elements, neither of the leads ever feels like a caricature. Michael Douglas deserves his Emmy; it's a remarkably un-vain performance, which feels like an odd thing to say about the very vain Liberace and about a star turn which very much depends on the audience buying not only that the man had charisma to burn, but also that he has charm enough for the characters and the audience to forgive him a lot. But the lack of vanity is really showcased when the camera shows us Liberace without a wig, bald, and with his aged, wobbly body in the nude (a strategic-for-American-tv towel not withstanding), mercilessly exposing every crag. Scott, who has never seen his lover like this, for a moment walks past him without recognising him. Same for the audience, and when Scott doubles back, it's a nice shock moment, which then becomes emotional connection and vulnerability, all the more since Liberace doesn't make a big deal about it.
Speaking of Scott: Matt Damon plays the pov character, and in the early sequences it's amazing how young they've made him look. I mean, the movie wisely doesn't mention Scott is supposed to be sixteen when he first meets Liberace (which partly explains his naivete), but Damon looks like he's only in his early twenties, despite being 42 in real life, and uses his honest everyman persona from pre-Bourne years to great effect. I was a tad sceptical as to whether Scott initially moved in just because he was bedazzled by the glamour and, being the product of various foster homes and a mentally biological mother, vulnerable to the care and attention Liberace was offering, and not of any commercial calculation (though then I looked up the guy's age on the internet and as I said - teenager, which makes it easier to buy). (The difference between Soderbergh and the late great arch cynic Billy Wilder: Wilder totally would have gone for the commercial motive without worrying that this would make the audience dislike Scott.) But the film did sell me on the growing emotional dependency, which is taken to physical extremes once Liberace has gotten it into his head to make his young lover look like himself. Plus it did fairly post warnings to both Scott and the audience: when Scott first meets Liberace, there is Liberace's about to be discarded "protegé" still around, modelled to look like the maestro himself, only thinner and with an obvious substance abuse problem. What Scott doesn't know but the audience can guess is that he looks at his own future there. And yet, which is perhaps the biggest trick the film pulls off, it makes you believe that Liberace himself doesn't know that, despite having gone through these cycles before; that he really does believe it's true love every time.
What, to me, stops the film from being great is that it not only wants me to believe it was true love as well but resorts to the above mentioned narrative cheat in order to hammer the point home. I can buy a story in which loves do awful things to another and still believe their love is real and the most powerful bond (see also: Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf?). I can buy a satire or a parable on show biz or a character portrait through one last relationship (see also: Sunset Boulevard, Gods and Monsters). But in the end, Behind the Candelabra doesn't quite know what it wants to be, other than being liked, a bit like poor Scott. And thus it left me being entertained, but with no desire to watch it again.
Gravity: Awesome visuals are awesome, like everyone said. Alfonso Cuaron really gets the danger and beauty of space across in a visceral way, and, a bit like Life of Pi, this is one film which I can't imagine working as well without the 3D and definitely not working at all on the small screen. My other cinematic comparison would be the original Alien in that the dialogue is nothing to write home about but you don't care because in addition to the powerful visuals, the peril of our unexpected heroine is that relentlessly gripping, and her struggle for survival transforms her. Clooney, in the minor role, is reliably charming, but it's really Sandra Bullock's film - like Ellen Ripley in the original Alien, she starts out subdued and seemingly a lesser character, and then comes to the fore - , and she gives it all. Definitely one to see, but only if you can do so on the big screen.
As for the rest of the film: Liberace having been a piano player/showman/ Las Vegas act extraordinaire not withstanding, this feels firmly in the tradition of Hollywood-on-Hollywood. Older star meets pretty young thing, pretty young thing moves in and is emotionally and physically devoured, emotional beats going from adoration to bitchiness and boredom to vicious argument, you've heard this story before. There are even the double overtones of satire (and the one liners fly) and horror story that you can find in, say, Sunset Boulevard: rarely have I seen facelifts done on screen, and never in a way that made them feel viscerally gruesome, to compete with any monster conjured up in a slasher film. It's all the more effective because we've been invited to regard the doctor performing the operation, played by Rob Lowe with glee and an amazing make up that makes him look permanently lifted himself, as comic relief at first. Mind you, the lines getting the most laughs in the Munich cinema I saw the movie in were some comparing the main character to a local guy: explaining to young and naive Scott about Liberace's mindset, a mutual friend says "Lee thinks he's Ludwig II.?" Quoth young Scott: "Who is Ludwig II.?" "The Liberace of Bavaria." We, being Ludwig II.'s subjects, or rather the descendants of same, loved this one, of course. (Sidenote: I can totally see the point of the comparison, taste in decorating wise, but Ludwig was morbidly people shy whereas Liberace loves his audience, so it doesn't quite fit.)
One virtue of the film is that despite all the larger-than-life camp and grotesque elements, neither of the leads ever feels like a caricature. Michael Douglas deserves his Emmy; it's a remarkably un-vain performance, which feels like an odd thing to say about the very vain Liberace and about a star turn which very much depends on the audience buying not only that the man had charisma to burn, but also that he has charm enough for the characters and the audience to forgive him a lot. But the lack of vanity is really showcased when the camera shows us Liberace without a wig, bald, and with his aged, wobbly body in the nude (a strategic-for-American-tv towel not withstanding), mercilessly exposing every crag. Scott, who has never seen his lover like this, for a moment walks past him without recognising him. Same for the audience, and when Scott doubles back, it's a nice shock moment, which then becomes emotional connection and vulnerability, all the more since Liberace doesn't make a big deal about it.
Speaking of Scott: Matt Damon plays the pov character, and in the early sequences it's amazing how young they've made him look. I mean, the movie wisely doesn't mention Scott is supposed to be sixteen when he first meets Liberace (which partly explains his naivete), but Damon looks like he's only in his early twenties, despite being 42 in real life, and uses his honest everyman persona from pre-Bourne years to great effect. I was a tad sceptical as to whether Scott initially moved in just because he was bedazzled by the glamour and, being the product of various foster homes and a mentally biological mother, vulnerable to the care and attention Liberace was offering, and not of any commercial calculation (though then I looked up the guy's age on the internet and as I said - teenager, which makes it easier to buy). (The difference between Soderbergh and the late great arch cynic Billy Wilder: Wilder totally would have gone for the commercial motive without worrying that this would make the audience dislike Scott.) But the film did sell me on the growing emotional dependency, which is taken to physical extremes once Liberace has gotten it into his head to make his young lover look like himself. Plus it did fairly post warnings to both Scott and the audience: when Scott first meets Liberace, there is Liberace's about to be discarded "protegé" still around, modelled to look like the maestro himself, only thinner and with an obvious substance abuse problem. What Scott doesn't know but the audience can guess is that he looks at his own future there. And yet, which is perhaps the biggest trick the film pulls off, it makes you believe that Liberace himself doesn't know that, despite having gone through these cycles before; that he really does believe it's true love every time.
What, to me, stops the film from being great is that it not only wants me to believe it was true love as well but resorts to the above mentioned narrative cheat in order to hammer the point home. I can buy a story in which loves do awful things to another and still believe their love is real and the most powerful bond (see also: Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf?). I can buy a satire or a parable on show biz or a character portrait through one last relationship (see also: Sunset Boulevard, Gods and Monsters). But in the end, Behind the Candelabra doesn't quite know what it wants to be, other than being liked, a bit like poor Scott. And thus it left me being entertained, but with no desire to watch it again.
Gravity: Awesome visuals are awesome, like everyone said. Alfonso Cuaron really gets the danger and beauty of space across in a visceral way, and, a bit like Life of Pi, this is one film which I can't imagine working as well without the 3D and definitely not working at all on the small screen. My other cinematic comparison would be the original Alien in that the dialogue is nothing to write home about but you don't care because in addition to the powerful visuals, the peril of our unexpected heroine is that relentlessly gripping, and her struggle for survival transforms her. Clooney, in the minor role, is reliably charming, but it's really Sandra Bullock's film - like Ellen Ripley in the original Alien, she starts out subdued and seemingly a lesser character, and then comes to the fore - , and she gives it all. Definitely one to see, but only if you can do so on the big screen.
