The Beguiled

Sofia Coppola’s minimalist take on sexuality and power is more thoughtful than the Clint Eastwood original but far less fun.

The Beguiled Poster The original Clint Eastwood adaptation of “The Beguiled” was a crazed, pulpy drama of sex and temptation. It’s a bit too nuts to take it truly seriously. That’s where Sofia Coppola comes in, whose gifts with minimalism can take even the wildest of subject matter and rope it into something contemplative and profound.

In her take on “The Beguiled,” Coppola has given the Civil War story a dusky air of dignity and style. She’s reframed it as a woman’s story of pent up frustration and emotion and how people cling to certain ways of life, rather than a man’s revenge tale against, as Colin Farrell puts it in the film, “vengeful bitches.”

That’s all well and good, but I like the crazy-eyed sexiness of the Don Siegel/Eastwood version. Coppola’s film has the themes and drama in the right place, but does her “Beguiled” have to be so buttoned up? Continue reading “The Beguiled”


“Sully” offers a more nuanced portrait of heroism than “American Sniper”

sullyposterIt’s fitting that “Sully,” the latest film by Clint Eastwood about the “Miracle on the Hudson” pilot Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger, has been released on the weekend of 9/11’s 15th Anniversary. The worst happened that day, and we’re lucky to have first responders to celebrate this weekend. But what Sully experiences in Eastwood’s film casts doubt over whether he’s a hero at all, or whether he or all the other “heroes” could’ve done more to save others.

Eastwood’s “Sully” offers a compelling and dramatic story that proves to be a far more shaded and nuanced portrait of heroism than Eastwood’s own blockbuster “American Sniper.” It’s a film about doubt and uncertainty within even the best of us. For those like Sully, we hope that they can overcome their memories of the tragedy and accept the good they’ve done.

In the aftermath of the plane crash in which he and his co-pilot Jeff Skiles (Aaron Ekhart) emergency landed on the Hudson River, Sully (Tom Hanks) imagines what would’ve happened if he failed. In January of 2009, both engines on his plane gave out within seconds of taking off, an ordeal that lasted just 208 seconds. In the end he saved the lives of all 155 “souls” on board. Had he chosen to try and return to the airport, he imagines that he would have not just cost the lives of all those on board, but perhaps hundreds of others in a densely populated Manhattan. Continue reading “Sully”

American Sniper

“American Sniper” is powerful, classical storytelling by Clint Eastwood but is troubling one-sided in its depiction of war.

308555id1i_TheJudge_FinalRated_27x40_1Sheet.inddIn this country during every sporting event, there is a moment reserved for the armed forces who have served this country. It could be a tearful commercial for beer, insurance, cars, anything, or it could be a standing ovation for two veterans during halftime. They sacrificed their lives, did their job, and that’s all we as a nation ask of them.

To ask anything more of our military or to question how they do their job goes against America’s values in the 21st Century. To suggest that they did something that’s out of line with what’s good for the country or what’s good for others around the world is tantamount to treason. Blame the country, blame the system, blame the terrorists, but don’t blame the troops.

When we hear of a soldier like Chris Kyle, he’s not just a veteran or a hero; he’s a legend. Kyle was credited with over 160 kills as the most lethal sniper in American history. After four tours in the Middle East as a Navy SEAL following the attacks on 9/11, Kyle lived to tell his story in the book that became Clint Eastwood’s “American Sniper”.

Having not read Kyle’s book or known the man, I cannot comment on his character. “American Sniper” depicts Kyle’s life work as a soldier with all the valor and respect anyone in this country would be likely to give him.

And yet the portrait Eastwood offers of Kyle (Bradley Cooper) is a soldier who killed methodically, who showed no remorse for his assassinations, who brought himself to kill children as a result of his work, who labeled his victims “savages”, who placed his need to protect other soldiers above his own family, and who showed disdain for loved ones who expressed uncertainty at the work they were doing. I look at “American Sniper’s” Chris Kyle and see a flawed person, perhaps someone who shouldn’t be called a legend so willingly.

Yet Eastwood’s film is not so ambiguous. Kyle’s fight is against evil and his goal is to protect soldiers at all costs, all of which is a necessity as part of this job. Eastwood even crafts a cinematic device in the form of a single villain named Mustafa. He was an Olympic gold medalist in sniping from Syria, but here he’s a ruthless assassin who can pick off Americans from a mile away, never speaking a word and only seen sitting by a phone spinning a bullet as he awaits troop movements. He’s the embodiment of pure malevolence and Kyle’s ultimate rival, and he must be stopped.

Depending on which side of the political spectrum you sit, this may be more than enough justification for total war against terrorists or it may be a gross misappropriation of humanity outside of America. It’ll give you an idea of the horrors of war, but it may either fill you with pride for the work of brave men overseas or leave you uneasy at what they did there.

Perhaps Eastwood doesn’t need to pick sides. In “American Sniper” he leaves politics out of the equation altogether, and though there are enough naysayers within the military’s ranks to question the pursuit of glory and violence, he doesn’t vilify Kyle’s actions or suggest that he should feel bad for the body count he amassed.


What “American Sniper” provides is perspective. It gives insight into the effects of war on soldiers in a way many other films have succeeded at or failed at to varying degrees. And it best of all shows how a man like Kyle could choose war over his family. If “American Sniper” doesn’t make a bold statement of purpose about war, it at the very least tells a story and offers Kyle’s point of view with powerful, engrossing, classical storytelling. Eastwood proves he’s an old pro capable of stark action and emotion that will move everyone regardless of politics.

The film’s most revealing scene comes early during Kyle’s childhood. At the dinner table after a schoolyard brawl, Kyle’s father explains that all people are sheep, wolves or sheep dogs; people are either blind to the evil in the world, committing evil or sworn to protect the world from it. This philosophy guides all of Kyle’s actions and his motivation to engage in four separate tours despite the objections of his wife, and Eastwood doesn’t question this idea or view it with ambiguity. But who are the sheep dogs to pick out the wolves? Is there no middle ground between a dog and sheep? And does the sheep dog have the right to eliminate all the wolves, regardless of the flock?

This analogy thankfully doesn’t return in “American Sniper” to overstate a point, but those who do raise objections to war are often in the background. Kyle spots his brother going home after a tour, jaded and confused at what he’s done. Another close friend killed on the battlefield has his mother read a letter about the misguided pursuit of glory at his funeral. When his wife Taya (Sienna Miller) asks what he thought, Kyle says it was the letter that killed him.

With Kyle so resolute, it’s a shame then to see “American Sniper” so one-sided and to deny the Muslims depicted in the film as anything other than monsters. In each case of Kyle engaging directly with the Arabs who live in this war torn region, Eastwood flips the encounter into something more debasing. In the first, the man demands $100,000 for information on the whereabouts of a known terrorist. In the second, the man offers the Americans a feast, but does so only as a ruse. Kyle’s suspicion uncovers a stockpile of weaponry meant to kill them. The aforementioned Mustafa does not say a word, only murders. And Kyle frequently refers to those he kills as savages. After witnessing a woman and child brandishing a grenade meant for American tanks, Kyle says, “That’s an evil like I’ve never seen.” It’s here that the troubling sheep dog mentality rears its head, and Eastwood makes it feel as though he’s banishing evil from the world instead of killing people, innocent or otherwise.

In comparison, one of Eastwood’s best cinematic efforts was a pair of films that managed to show both sides of World War II, “Flags of Our Fathers” and “Letters to Iwo Jima”. The more patriotic “Flags” followed Americans who questioned the image sent back to the states after the battle at Iwo Jima, and “Letters” offered added depth to the Americans’ Japanese combatants and why they felt they needed to commit figurative or literal suicide as a natural expression of war. “American Sniper” lacks that counterpoint, framing much of Kyle’s story in flag waving terms that don’t sit well considering the violence on display.

Rather, “American Sniper’s” depth lies on the home front. Eastwood recognizes that there’s a torn dilemma between where home really lies for a soldier like Kyle, with his family of a wife and kids or his family of SEALs. The gravity of Kyle’s choice to do four tours lies in knowing what he’s leaving behind and how he rationalizes that he’s really protecting his family. Kyle’s wife Taya begs him to be human again, but it’s a touchingly realized moment when she realizes he’s not fully “here” when his mind is at war. If Eastwood fails at giving us the effects of war across international boundaries, he succeeds when crossing marital boundaries.

And yet the strength of “American Sniper” still does rest on the battlefield. When Kyle is seen sniping, Eastwood takes us into Kyle’s mental zone, focused to the point that time passes quickly in the background and that he can kill tirelessly without fanfare. It’s harrowing stuff always photographed clearly and crisply. Few directors outside of Eastwood have the ability to communicate a war shootout with such clarity.

Matching Kyle’s mental zone is Bradley Cooper, firmly in the prime of his movie star charisma and talent as an actor. It’s hard to imagine another actor fitting into Kyle’s combat boots, and Cooper takes Kyle’s focus to scary places. Sienna Miller likewise does strong work and brings much needed pathos to the film’s home front scenes.

After watching “American Sniper”, I’m still unsure about the real Chris Kyle’s heroics. Much has already been made about whether his depiction is accurate, and political proponents on both the right and left have sought to either champion or vilify Kyle to make a statement. But Eastwood above all has captured a powerful story with a character at the center who could be a legend, but is at the very least human.

3 ½ stars

Unforgiven (1991)

“Unforgiven” holds firm as an excellent, classical Western long after their heyday and a turning point in the legendary career of Clint Eastwood.

You have to hand it to the Coen Brothers for making 2010’s “True Grit” into such a well made and entertaining movie, because as far as I’m concerned, Clint Eastwood gave the Western genre its victorious last stand in “Unforgiven.”

“Unforgiven” is brilliant for being the last truly old fashioned Western and yet also a modern elegy of it. Eastwood starred in enough Westerns in his career to know how the genre ticked, and his characters in “Unforgiven” display unsuspected depth that expand on all the themes common to the genre without harming its integrity. It’s a film from the early ’90s but fits into the canon of Westerns as well as any.

Beyond that, “Unforgiven” is an important landmark in the career of a great actor and director. It’s an imperfect masterpiece; a human mark on the face of a titan.

Eastwood plays William Munny, a former killer in the West who has now grown old and tame as he started a family. Three years after the death of his wife, he’s a lonely and hopeless pig farmer. The new bounty hunter on the block is the Schofield Kid (Jaimz Woolvett), and he needs a partner. Will however hasn’t pointed a gun at a man in 10 years. The cowboys they aim to kill mutilated a prostitute, and the other girls in the brothel have put a $1000 price tag on the cowboys’ heads. But protecting the town from any bounty hunters is the corrupt and ruthless Sheriff Little Bill (Gene Hackman).

The world in “Unforgiven” is cold and dangerous, where even the law is heartless and scary. But the stunning horizons and bright blue skies paint a pastoral picture that is not “glamorous,” but still beautiful. Nobility remains in this world, however dated it may seem. Continue reading “Unforgiven (1991)”

J. Edgar

J. Edgar Hoover worked tirelessly to maintain an image of power, fame and significance in the 48 years he served the FBI.

Since his death, his legacy has been tarnished, if not forgotten, with allegations he was not as pivotal to the FBI as he appeared, that he held confidential information over politicians and public figures as a form of blackmail and that he was a homosexual who occasionally wore women’s clothes.

Clint Eastwood’s “J. Edgar,” along with Leonardo DiCaprio in the eponymous role, dons an equally inflated presence and renders itself just as unmemorable. Continue reading “J. Edgar”

Rapid Response: Dirty Harry

Well you just gotta ask yourself one question: Why am I watching “Dirty Harry?”

Truth be told, my roommate picked it by chance and I was instantly sucked in.

It follows the beat of a number of renegade cop movies, but it follows many of the beats, cliches and tropes that it created. Harry Callahan’s dialogue is just too badass to just be relegated to standard genre fare, and Clint Eastwood so embodies the role that you really do feel lucky watching him work. “Dirty Harry” certainly wouldn’t be as interesting without Clint, and you couldn’t have a franchise without him.

But suffice it to say, there are enough strong elements throughout “Dirty Harry” that help it stand up on its own. It gives a good indicator of how much differently, and arguably better, they made movies at the peak of the American New Wave in the early ’70s. Continue reading “Rapid Response: Dirty Harry”

Flags of Our Fathers

Clint Eastwood’s “Flags of Our Fathers” and his slightly superior film “Letters From Iwo Jima” both stand up by themselves as great films, but together, Eastwood’s World War II epic is just shy of a masterpiece.

I can’t quite say what my reaction would be had I seen “Flags of Our Fathers” first. Both films deal with common themes from different perspectives, and Eastwood’s ability to make that parallel is brilliant. But “Letters” delves deeper than simply questioning culture’s ideas of heroes and good vs. evil. It finds value to life amidst a war where so much is lost, and to see that story second would make “Flags” feel mediocre in comparison. Continue reading “Flags of Our Fathers”

Letters from Iwo Jima

So often in the portrayal or in the education of World War II, we have a depiction of good and evil. America tends to be heroic and Japan is the faceless, ruthless band of inhuman kamikazes. Even the Germans have a face in the form of Hitler, and they have human qualities, however insane and despicable. “Letters From Iwo Jima” turns the table, highlighting the Japanese, and demonstrating that we are all human in war.

The movie begins several months before the battle as the army is preparing for the Americans to land. From this point, we most closely follow the lives of General Kuribayashi (Ken Watanabe), a new and unconventional commander on the battlefield, and Saigo (Kazunari Ninomiya), a baker who has no interest of fighting this war. Our original perception of them is crucial to the emotional development of the rest of the film, for they are the ones that differ from the stereotype Americans hold of the Japs during the war.

When Kuribayashi first lands on the island, he drastically alters the standard battle plan, removing trenches on the beach and starting construction of tunnels in the hills. Although both he and his associates have no faith in success, his plan is to survive over a quick, honorable death. At first, I almost agreed with the conventional plan of attack. If it’s an honor to die for the country, and there is no chance of success, why prolong the suffering? Kuribayashi says in a powerful moment, “If our children can live safely for one more day, it would be worth the one more day that we defend this island.” I was sold from that point on. Continue reading “Letters from Iwo Jima”