Life of Pi (2012)

SPOILER ALERT!: THIS REVIEW CONTAINS A FEW MORE PLOT DETAILS THAN MANY OF MY REVIEWS. THEY WON'T RUIN YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THE FILM, AND I DON'T GIVE TOO MUCH AWAY. BUT IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE NOVEL, YOU MIGHT CHOOSE TO SEE THE FILM FIRST.

"I know what you want. You want a story that won't surprise you. That will confirm what you already know. That won't make you see higher or further or differently. You want a flat story. An immobile story. You want dry, yeastless factuality."

This is Piscine ("Pi") Molitor Patel (named after his uncle's favorite swimming pool in Paris) talking to two Japanese investigators near the end of Yann Martel's breathtaking 2001 novel, "Life of Pi." The two men are attempting to piece together why it was that a Japanese freighter called the Tsimtsum went down somewhere in the Pacific in 1977 en route to Canada from India. Pi, quite possibly the ship's only survivor, has lost his parents and brother, and has washed up on the shores of Mexico after a 227-day ordeal that is difficult to believe. In fact, the officials aren't buying it.

"The world isn't just the way it is," Pi tells them, cryptically. "It is how we understand it, no? And in understanding something, we bring something to it, no? Doesn't that make life a story?"

Long considered to be an unfilmable novel in equal measures due to its interweaving story of a solitary boy adrift at sea and its thick theology - not to mention its status as a beloved work of literature that fans would react harshly to getting screwed up - director Ang Lee took up what had to be one of the greatest cinematic challenges of recent years, and attacked it using an unlikely weapon: 3-D. The result is a film that has me wrestling with how I feel about it, though not for the same reasons I wrestled with Martel's novel. Whereas the book was a love letter to the power of telling stories and discovering one's spirituality, the film is a technological wonder, a cinematic painting of such beauty that its very strengths become, to some extent, its weaknesses.

To make "Life of Pi" work as a movie, screenwriter David Magee constructs an interview to bookend the narrative and occasionally interrupt it, in which a middle-aged Pi (Ifran Khan) is sitting down with a Canadian writer (Rafe Spall) in Patel's home. The writer is looking for a good story, and met a man in a cafe who told him that Patel's story would "make him believe in God." This information, by the way, is cribbed from Martel's author's note in the novel and used for the film. It's a significant phrase cleverly worked into the film in this fashion.

And so the conversation which in the novel takes place at the end between Pi and the Japanese investigators instead takes place between Pi and the writer, though Pi references his conversation with the investigators. As he did in the novel, the film Pi Patel follows the telling of his incredible story with a second version of it when the investigators refuse to believe what they've heard. In the film, Patel tells his second version to the writer in the film's most unimaginative scene, opting not to dramatize it, Lee's camera fixed on Khan against a white background that reminded me of the opening shot of "The Graduate."

Both versions end with Pi asking the listener: "Which story do you prefer?" It's a vexing question, really. One that conjures to mind the point Tim O'Brien so powerfully makes in "The Things They Carried." But while Martel is able to tap into a powerful spiritual place and reveal the very darkness of humanity in this penultimate moment of his story, Lee's attempt falters. Part of this is because of how that moment is filmed, but most of the reason why is a result of the film's Achilles heel: its shockingly light tone.

I should go back. For those of you who have not read "Life of Pi," do yourselves a favor and download it to your e-readers or add it to your Amazon wish lists. In the meantime, I will fill you in.

Pi Patel lives in Pondicherry, India with his parents and brother, Ravi. His father owns a zoo in town, and due to rising political uncertainty in India has decided to pack up his family and move to Canada. The family boards the previously-mentioned Japanese freighter with many of the zoo's animals, which Pi's father will care for on the journey and sell in North America for better money than he'd get in India.

The Patel family is Hindu, but Pi's father doesn't rely on religion, and his mother clings to it more because it reminds her of her own family than because it spiritually grounds her. But Pi is different, taking to his faith so abundantly that one religion is not enough for him. He soon learns of Christ and accepts Christianity, then Allah and Islam. Before long, Pi is a genuflecting, Mecca-facing Catho-Muslim-du asking his parents to be baptized. His father tries to convince Pi that believing in too many things at the same time is as good as believing in nothing, but Pi won't hear of it.

Pi's juggling of three religions delivers some of the novel's lighter moments, and Lee handily delivers on them. But Lee ends up bringing a similarly light tough to other aspects of "Life of Pi" that needed far darker grounding.

When the freighter is flooding in a storm, Pi escapes to a lifeboat. A screaming zebra leaps off deck and lands in the hull of the lifeboat, breaking a leg. Come morning, Pi discovers that he is not only keeping the company of the zebra, but a hyena as well.

And there is another passenger, one that makes life a lot more fragile for Pi. His name is Richard Parker (so named due to a clerical error, we learn). Richard Parker is a 450-pound Bengal tiger. Pi had been taught from a young age how seriously to take a tiger. So how could he share a lifeboat with one?

Adrift at sea, Pi witnesses the horrors of the circle of life right there in front of him on the boat. The hyena emerges to attack the zebra. Pi's favorite orangutan, Orange Juice, turns up in the water to join them, only to be attacked by the hyena shortly thereafter. And before long, Richard Parker emerges to assert his dominance over them all, sending Pi scrambling to a makeshift sidecar he's tethered to the boat, created from oars, life jackets and a life preserver.

I don't want to reveal every detail of the plot, but suffice it to say that Pi has to learn to live with Richard Parker and considers along the way a variety of options to deal with him that run the gamut from trying to kill him to trying to train him. The book, no surprise, delves into the psychology behind his options in much better detail.

When Pi and Richard Parker do reach land, it's a deserted island populated by meerkats, where things are not what they seem, and even more difficult to believe. Their stay there is brief, and the two set out to see again, this time by choice, until they meet the shores of Mexico just as both of them appear very close to death.

The novel is divided into three parts, with the second being Pi's time at sea. This middle section accounts for two-thirds of the book's pages. Lee's translation to film is almost identical, and maybe it shouldn't be. As with the novel, Lee focuses on Pi's childhood and his discovery of his unique faith in painstaking detail, postponing the dramatics of the shipwreck for quite some time. The result, to some extent, feels like a movie mash-up between "The Namesake" and "Cast Away."

It is certainly a challenge to keep the audience interested in a film that gives us almost no dialogue for the bulk of its running time, that focuses primarily on one man's survival. Certainly the aforementioned "Cast Away" managed because of the outstanding work done by Tom Hanks in that film's lead role. But Ang Lee chooses a different approach. He relies on visuals.

I suppose I've buried this very important detail late into my review, but it's no less important. As a self-appointed 3-D hater, I can gladly add "Life of Pi" to a very short list of films for which 3-D enhances the experience, as opposed to simply adding gimmickry to it. James Cameron, of course, did so with "Avatar." Last year, Martin Scorsese did it with "Hugo," though of these three films, "Hugo" works the best without 3-D, too, if you ask me.  And now, we can add Ang Lee to a very short list of directors who successfully made a 3-D version of a film truly better than its 2-D counterpart.

The visuals in "Life of Pi" are simply stunning. Breathtaking. The star of the film. But that is so much the case that I think it contributed in the end to my inability to connect as fully to "Life of Pi" as I was hoping to. Because where the novel is a deeply organic spiritual journey, the film is unable to rise above the wonder of its digital accomplishments. The tiger, Richard Parker, is exhibit A. You will be stunned by how life-like he is. Rarely will you find yourself thrown from accepting he is real. But in moments when their surroundings are painted sunrises, glowing ocean surfaces and vibrant greenery, the film reaches a level of beauty that covers up the darkness and torment of the story.

Lee's technical wizardry is almost too ostentatiously displayed, from the way names are revealed in the opening credits to moments when a cut-out of Pi is superimposed in the foreground over a scene on the lifeboat taking place in the background of the screen. I can't say I've seen a movie that looks this stunning in a long, long time. But I'm sad to say that for me, there was something plastic about it.

This brings me back to the alternate story Pi tells at the end. In the book, it's harrowing. Once you figure out what Martel is doing, you are haunted by it. You are equally haunted by the graphic details of animals killing animals and deeply gutted for Pi when he cries out in anguish as he is forced to eschew his vegetarian ways and kill fish and other animals to survive.

Ang Lee goes for the PG version, and in doing so, the film "Life of Pi" has little of the darkness of the book. Yes, we see that Pi lives through hellish conditions. But we don't see any of it. I became most aware of this problem with the film when, in a packed theater, I sat in horror as the audience around me laughed heartily at a scene where Pi is attempting to train Richard Parker. Was there something wrong with the audience? Or did Lee make a serious miscalculation in tone to allow viewers to relax for even a moment at the sight of a 16-year-old, emaciated boy attempting to train a tiger with a sharpened stick?

So in the end, when the writer is asked which version of Pi's story he prefers, the line feels like a bit of a cheap trick in the movie, whereas the novel's darker grounding gave the moment devastating resonance. This moment was never meant to be one of those "you mean to tell me that everything that just happened wasn't real?" moments. "Life of Pi" is not the final episode of "Roseanne." I walked into "Life of Pi" wanting to be moved to tears. That never happened.

"Life of Pi" is too lighthearted about its spirituality. Too PG to be intense. Too beautiful to be terrifying. Too digital to feel organic. And yet, just as Pi Patel's religions contradict each other, so too is Ang Lee's film one that simply should not be missed. And one of the rare films deserving of your extra dollars for a 3-D experience.  And who knows, you might be moved in ways I hoped I'd be.


★ ★ ★

Rise of the Guardians (2012)

I hate winter.

Now that I've got that out of the way, I can explain why I did not hate "Rise of the Guardians" as much as some of the other critics appear to have hated it. And I think it's because the one thing the film managed to do to me was make me like the most unlikely of characters: Jack Frost.

In an unfortunately predictable script by pedigreed playwright David Lindsay-Abaire (based on the children's books by William Joyce), "Rise of the Guardians" is the essentially the story of how Jack Frost redeems himself, evolving from an ice-throwing prankster with a name not known by children who nonetheless enjoy his handiwork to a full-fledged, Avengers-like hero who has, at the urging of Santa, "found his center."

Santa (called "North" in this film and voiced inexplicably with a Russian accent by Alec Baldwin), is the one who reminds Jack (a compelling Chris Pine) that the work of the legendary Guardians revolves around protecting the goodness of childhood and the spirit of children. He tells Jack that his job as Santa is to maintain a sense of wonder in children. He is joined by Bunny (of the Easter variety, voiced by Hugh Jackman, who is given license to go full-blown Aussie with it), Tooth (of the fairy variety, voiced by Isla Fisher), and Sandy (the sandman, who is both mute and perhaps the most exciting and loveable of all the film's characters).

Jack's problem is that he's all about mischief. In one of the film's moments of true adult-reaching depth, North realizes that although the other Guardians are charged with the protection of children the world over, they are too busy to actually spend time with them. Only Jack, as it turns out, has spent any time near them and with them to observe their natures and behaviors.

But for all of Jack's understanding of kids, he suffers one terrible problem. They don't know his name. And consequently, he is invisible to them. This makes it difficult for the Guardians to understand why the Moon would assign Jack Frost to join them as their newest member.

Jack is forced to figure out his calling quickly, just as the other Guardians are faced with accepting his membership in an instant when Pitch (Black, the boogey man, voiced by Jude Law and drawn quite similarly to Disney's Hades in "Hercules") arrives. Pitch instills fear into the children, turning Sandy's dreams into nightmares and extinguishing the lights on North's globe one by one, the lights that indicate each believing child on the planet. As Pitch replaces beliefs with terror, he vanquishes Sandy's sweet dreams (and Sandy himself) with black dust stallions. He imprisons the Tooth Fairy's "baby teeth," her army of hummingbird-like helpers. And finally, he attempts to forge an alliance with Jack: two under-appreciated forces of nature, neither known fully enough to kids to be able to appear before them.

Despite Lindsey-Abaire's frequent injections of heart and depth, "Rise of the Guardians" defaults to an ending one can see coming from far away, which includes a redemption of Jack that is strangely touching even as it is predictable. The interplay between the other Guardians is mostly annoying. Only Jack is worth following. Fortunately, Jack Frost is central to the plot and the storytelling.

Director Peter Ramsey, a veteran of movie art departments making his feature film debut shepherds crisp, imaginative animation that makes Jack an alluring, Peter Pan-like figure. I could measure the film's success in this endeavor by my son's obsession with Jack Frost since we saw the film. He has spent the last two days searching the house for something he can turn into Frost's staff, used to turn things to ice and temporary collateral damage in the film's penultimate confrontation between Frost and Pitch.

Another problem with "Rise of the Guardians," in addition to the predictable path its story takes and the annoying interplay of most of its main characters, is the speed with which the film flies by. Certainly this is exciting to kids in the audience, but whether it's Santa's sleigh, a kid on a sled at Jack's icy mercy, or swirls of black sand circling the air at Pitch's command, the pace rarely breaths. Even the film's score, composed by the always lovely Alexandre Desplat, surges to uncharacteristic levels of mania. What's sad about all of this is how stunning some of the film's images are, particularly those that involve sand. But the film never pauses enough for us to appreciate or enjoy them.

Ultimately, "Rise of the Guardians" tips gingerly into my "like" column thanks in part to a genuinely affecting back story for Jack Frost, who of course finds "his center" by the end of the film. It's an uneven film of predictable plotting and manic animation with multiple moments of fleeting but resonant emotional depth. I ended up caring nothing for Santa, the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny, though I became an instant fan of Santa's elves, portrayed here as walking triangles. ("They don't really do anything," North admits in one hilarious moment. "We just let everyone think they do." The line goes something to this effect.)

On the way home from the movie theater, my kids asked me a question that pretty much sums up the whole experience. "Daddy, is Jack Frost real?" my son asked. "Is Santa real?" I replied. "Of course," he answered. "Well, then..."

★ ★ 1/2

Argo (2012)

A rare treat of a thriller that excites without the use of special effects, "Argo" embraces the cliche "edge-of-your-seat" and turns it into two hours of film-viewing reality.

The third film in an increasingly-confident directorial portfolio by Oscar-winning screenwriter and popular actor Ben Affleck, "Argo" is funnier than audiences might expect, as wonderfully acted as one could hope for, and more tense than you can imagine. It also boasts a story of more than slight ridiculousness. Implausible, really, if only it weren't true.

On Nov. 4, 1979, the U.S. embassy in Iran is sieged by revolutionaries. Six Americans working at the embassy manage to escape and seek shelter in the Canadian embassy.

Against the backdrop of President Carter's tentative handling of the Iran crisis, in walks Tony Mendez (Affleck), a CIA employee with a track record for rescuing people out of the most precarious of situations. With little time to come up with a plan to rescue the Americans, not to mention decreasing support from the White House and a CIA chief played by Bryan Cranston, Mendez concocts a ridiculous escape plan, one that he couldn't be more serious in proposing.

With the help of Hollywood producer Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin) and a makeup artist named John Chambers (John Goodman), Mendez procures an unproduced film script called "Argo," a science fiction B-grade film. Mendez believes that he could fly into Iran posing as a film producer scouting for desert locations to shoot scenes for "Argo" and, in the process, can reach the Canadian embassy and sneak the self-imprisoned Americans out by training them to assume identities as members of his filming crew.

Naturally, the idea is ridiculous, yet with a little push, Mendez pursues it anyway. He relies on the razzle-dazzle international image of Hollywood to at least temporarily win over skeptical Iranian soldiers he encounters along the way, sometimes even handing them doctored film posters which they accept like prized souvenirs. He makes it to the Canadian embassy and, under the protection of its kindhearted ambassador (Victor Garber), fights with the Americans to convince them that his insane idea is the only way out.

Again, this really happened. "Based on a true story." And one of the best things about "Argo" in a sea of great things is the way Affleck meticulously recreates the time period. Heading into 1980, Affleck populates "Argo" with stock footage of Carter on the television, porn-star mustaches, feathered hair, brown clothes, wide collars and boxy glasses. Almost to a detail, everything looks just as it should be, just as it might have happened. It isn't hard to imagine the film's art direction as first in line when the film awaits its inevitable award nominations this winter.

There's a chance the acting won't be overlooked, either. In fact, it's fantastic from top to bottom. As Mendez, Affleck gives his richest performance in quite some time. Arkin smaller but instrumental role as the film producer could end up getting him his first nomination since winning supporting actor for "Little Miss Sunshine." Goodman, scarily bloated and unhealthy-looking, is dryly funny and calmly wise in a film filled with panic. Garber and Cranston are, each in his own way, riveting. Kyle Chandler is effective as the secretary of defense, and dammit, Chris Messina delivers here in a way that reaffirms that he deserves to be a star.

Aside from the production values and the acting, the most memorable thing about "Argo" is its intensity, and Affleck knows just how to make a heart beat so strongly that it seems ready to leap from one's chest, only to ebb the intensity and then gradually build it minutes later to an eclipsing height. The palpable thrill of watching "Argo" is certainly what every horror film director longs to achieve and rarely manages, and though Affleck frequently overplays the use of extreme close-up shots to signal intensity, he succeeds wildly when it comes to thrills.

If there's a drawback to "Argo" - the slightest hint of imperfection - it comes with the realization that as a director, Affleck does little to demonstrate any calling cards of an authorial style. After his first two films used Boston as a backdrop the way Woody Allen used New York City, Affleck began to carve a signature niche for himself in just two films. "Argo" shares in common with both "Gone Baby Gone" and "The Town" a sense of capturing action and tense suspense in a way that makes it palpable to the audience, and that's a good thing.

But aside from the plentiful satisfaction that "Argo" is expertly handled by a crowd-pleaser of a director, there's little in its style to make someone say: "This is a Ben Affleck film." Those who are not snobby about their films will have no problem with this fact, of course. And someone like me, so excited about Affleck's growing confidence behind the lens with his third-consecutive Oscar-quality film, is now looking for a signature stamp. I wouldn't say it's here, yet. But what is here is enough confidence to indicate that Affleck is starting to figure out just who he is as a director.

If "Argo" is any indication, watching Affleck figure himself out will be our pleasure.

★ ★ ★ 1/2