Because the month of January sucked at running, I boycotted the sport, and placed my allegiances squarely with Hollywood, for whom January is a font of delicious goodness, like one of those chocolate fountains you'll see at wedding receptions and the occasional Sweet Sixteen. With the Oscars now almost upon us, I must complete my journey through the Best Movies of 2007 in preparation for Sunday's awards...Michael Clayton - the movie that earned such strong word-of-mouth praise that the studio decided to re-release it in many parts of the country. Deserving? Or not? After the jump.
MICHAEL CLAYTON, dir. Tony Gilroy
I know. Who the fuck is Tony Gilroy and how does a person make a movie this good his first time directing?
Tom Wilkinson is the balls. Sydney Pollack is the balls. Tilda Swinton - sporting a mean Fupa, but still, also the balls. George Clooney demands your attention every second he is on screen, and I mean that in the best way possible. This flick, about a "fixer" at a high-powered New York law firm, is just solid, all the way around. There are few virtuoso moments of manic emotion in store for the viewer -- and the plot necessitates that I stay mum on some of the most gratifying moments -- but whoo-ee, this movie just works on you, with fine acting work, tremendous, natural dialogue, and a fascination with odd angles that often create stowaway elements, hidden until just the right moment. Like American Gangster, Michael Clayton trusts its viewer to connect the dots; to recognize when dialogue is expository and needs to be understood, and when it is simply developing character; to get into the head of a protagonist who usually keeps his own counsel, because that's all he's got.
Top to bottom: a winner.
Atonement is all that remains among the Best Picture nominees. Probably should see Ratatouille or however you spell it, too, but we'll see if we have time.
Tom Wilkinson is the balls. Sydney Pollack is the balls. Tilda Swinton - sporting a mean Fupa, but still, also the balls. George Clooney demands your attention every second he is on screen, and I mean that in the best way possible. This flick, about a "fixer" at a high-powered New York law firm, is just solid, all the way around. There are few virtuoso moments of manic emotion in store for the viewer -- and the plot necessitates that I stay mum on some of the most gratifying moments -- but whoo-ee, this movie just works on you, with fine acting work, tremendous, natural dialogue, and a fascination with odd angles that often create stowaway elements, hidden until just the right moment. Like American Gangster, Michael Clayton trusts its viewer to connect the dots; to recognize when dialogue is expository and needs to be understood, and when it is simply developing character; to get into the head of a protagonist who usually keeps his own counsel, because that's all he's got.
Top to bottom: a winner.
Atonement is all that remains among the Best Picture nominees. Probably should see Ratatouille or however you spell it, too, but we'll see if we have time.
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