The kids didn’t grate, they honestly didn’t grate. The lovely Leigh and I discussed this fact as we drove homewards after seeing the movie ‘Infinitely Polar Bear’. Why didn’t they grate? Was I getting more tolerant in my dotage – or perhaps it was that American and film-makers world-wide are now looking for more from their junior-thesps than cutesypieness, as Leigh suggested. The two kids in this production – Imogene Wolodarsky as Amelia Stuart and Ashley Aufderheide as her sister Faith – expertly played just being kids. They weren’t perfect goody two-shoes. They had spats and they had tantrums. They were believable and increased my enjoyment of the offering – rather than, as in the past, detracting. Turns out young Imogene is the daughter of its writer/director, Maya Forbes.

I was certainly charmed by the pair of lasses, but what really caught my attention and impressed was a performance I felt up there with the Oscar nominated boys this year. I now realise that Mark Ruffalo has passed under my radar for years, not seeing his turns in the recent ‘Foxcatcher’ or the ‘Avengers’ franchise. His face was familiar, so checking out the forty-seven year old actor’s filmography, I discovered I had seen him up on the screen in that marvellous ensemble piece ‘The Kids are All Right’ from 2010, as well as, further back, in ‘My Life Without Me’ and the Jane Campion offering, ‘In the Cut’. I have the latter on DVD somewhere so must watch it again.

As written, I thought Mark Ruffalo was sensational in ‘Infinitely Polar Bear’ – see the movie and if you’re attentive you’ll pick up the origins of the title. This Wisconsin born is of mixed Italian/French Canadian heritage and was a wrestling champ at school – thus his casting in ‘Foxcatcher’? He worked in minor movies through the nineties, hitting the big-time alongside Laura Linney in 2000’s ‘You Can Count on Me’. He has been in demand ever since. He also takes to the stage on occasion and has tried his hand at directing. He now resides in NYC, has a couple of daughters – so he’s no stranger to that species – and a son, being married to French actress Sunrise Coigney for thirteen years. Politically active, he is a strong campaigner for pro-choice and anti-fracking – good on him.

In ‘IPB’ he plays Cam and he’s a bit of a plonker. But it’s not his fault – you see he’s afflicted with the curse of bi-polar. He is unable to hold down a job, boozes and constantly has a fag dangling from his lips – not a great role model for his girls, but they love him – for good reason. In contrast, long suffering missus, Maggie (Zoe Saldana), is struggling to cope with him. When she is forced to leave Boston, for better employment opportunities in New York, she has no choice but to make Cam responsible for the two girls. Mayhem ensues. But it’s Cam’s ability to stick his head above his usual hopelessness that charms the audience, if not so much his wife. Whatever his failings, we’re left in no doubt of his love for her and devotion to the kids. With a manic father, this family is battling against the odds. Will it all fall apart or can they finally make it work? Well, this is Hollywood, after all, so what would you think? But even so, this is a journey well worth taking and for my money Ruffalo surely proves he has real star power. So take it from me, I’ll be off to see him whenever his name appears up there in lights – although I’ll draw a line at ‘Avengers Age of Ultron’. I am not that enthusiastic about him!

‘Infinitely Polar Bear’ – official trailer = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvjS7rN8HT0

Wendy Squires, invariably in her columns, strikes a chord with me. She did it again this week in her latest – this time it was her way with words on fruit and veg. She’s not talking so much about the sleek, succulent examples we have for the taking on the supermarket shelves of the Big Two, which, once bought home, more often than not, soon start to shrivel. No, she’s pontificating on the ones overlooked – those thrown on the scrap heap, left to rot or ploughed back into the farmers’ fields. Such wastage with so much of the world hungry! Now one of the Two has seen the light and is offering imperfection at a reduced price. Woolies is following the trend in the UK, championed by Jamie Oliver, that has gone gangbusters there – let’s hope it does here. Squires not only likened these second grade carrots and apples to her own physical imperfections, but also to Ronnie and Jean, a Canadian couple she met in an Auckland hotel – an older pair living their dream before it all becomes too late.

Now I am about to take Wendy’s analogy one step further and liken a couple we can meet in the movie ‘Love is Strange’ to these not beautiful enough products of agrarian effort.

Ben (John Lithgow) and George (Alfred Molina) are gay, still in love after decades together, but with age starting to become an impediment – neither are as beautiful as they once were. But they also decide to live the dream too. Unlike our own country with its Dark Ages politicians, more and more US states are freeing up repressive laws and allowing same sex couples to marry. Our two imperfects decide to similarly formally commit. Soon their happiness turns sour when, for George, this decision is crossing the line for his employer. He’s a teacher of music in a school and although they have known about his sexual orientation, openly marrying is not favoured by the Catholic Church and he is immediately dismissed. This causes a financial crisis for the duo and they are forced to give up their Manhattan apartment. For a while it seems, until fortunes change, the only alternative is couch surfing with family and friends. They both struggle to cope with apartness, their hosts struggle to cope with each of them.

Director Ira Sachs produces for us a fine film that has as much to do about ageing and the fragility of life as it does about gaydom and attitudes towards it. It is an offering of muted pace and muted tones, but the performances from the two leads are brave, heartfelt and nuanced – as we would expect from these two seasoned thesps. It’s not played for the appearance of hankies and tissues, even when one of the pair doesn’t make it through to that change of fortune. The production has garnered gongs world wide for what the New York Daily News describes as its ‘…thoughtful, intelligent reserve.’ I couldn’t put it better.

As well as Lithgow and Molina, for me the other stand-out performance was from young Charlie Tahan as Joey, the put upon teen who is forced to share his confined bedroom with his gay great-uncle Ben. The lad understandably resents the intrusion and all sorts of friction ensues. But in the development of a positive relationship between the two, as well as Joey’s struggles to develop relationships of his own, we have one of this movie’s true joys.

Yes George and Ben, along with Ronnie and Jean, as well as undoubtedly yours truly, are of an age where, as imperfections increase and we generally fade from view to join the plethora of similarly invisible baby-boomers, there are still films such as this and increasingly many others – cite the ‘Exotic Marigold Hotel’ franchise. It all serves to remind the rest that old people, like disfigured fruit and vegetables, still have some worth.

Wendy Squires article = http://www.theage.com.au/comment/inglorious-fruit-and-veg-were-so-aware-of-looks-we-wont-even-eat-ugly-food-20150409-1mdeya.html

Official trailer for ‘Love is Strange’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdfA5Ff5e78

I am quite partial to ‘Antiques Roadshow’. Its not television that I hang out for, nor do I sit down and watch it each time it is on. It is something I can dip into when I am preparing or partaking of the evening meal whilst it’s in its present ABC timeslot. I like the woman of a certain age (Fiona Bruce) who hosts it. I like the looks on the faces of those who found an old painting up in the attic or who purchased a bit of crockery for 25p at a second hand shop and are gobsmacked when the valuer informs them of the multiples of thousands their finding is worth. And I like the back history of some of the items presented.

A couple of nights ago I was watching one of the show’s co-hosts, a very personable chap, waxed lyrical about a late Seventeenth Century teapot afore him for valuation. During a description of its provenance he remarked that the introduction of tea into British society was the first step on the long road to women achieving equality with menfolk – a road that still hasn’t fully arrived at its destination.

Previous to the transformation the humble tea leaf caused, a respectable woman could not enter the ale or coffee houses of the time and of course were completely subjugated in wedlock – emphasis on the lock. The arrival of this new beverage gave the mistress of the house a renewed purpose and allowed for some minor independence from hubby’s control. Drawing rooms could be opened up and gossip could be had around the intricate preparation then involved in making a cuppa. It was a matter of pride, getting the mixture of green and black teas used exactly right to create a signature blend. Chairs were no longer positioned around walls, but rather circled small tables designed especially for the serving of the refreshing hot liquid. As tea became more affordable and the drinking of it spread down the social strata, so women opened up their formerly underused front rooms for the commercial selling of the brewed product – thus gaining a modicum of financial security in isolation from their spouses. Women were on their way.

Around the same time tea was revolutionising the balance between the sexes across the Channel, a great palace was being built in the countryside around Paris – and here a singular woman was attempting to also break through the glass ceiling of the time – or as one commentator put it, more like a stone ceiling – Madame Sabina De Bara (Kate Winslet). Along my lovely Leigh and I went to view the film of her story this week. It turned out to be a good saga.

De Bara was a creation of the mind of Alan Rickman, the director of ‘A Little Chaos’. Now I am also quite partial to Alan Rickman – he enhances every project he is involved in. Of course a large amount of his recent time has been taken up by the Harry Potter franchise, but my favourite of his many offerings was the 2006 Canadian indie ‘Snow Cake’. Here he plays a man involved in a fatal car crash, thus causing a major attack of the guilts resulting in a life changing experience, a reawakening. It was the loveliest of movies.

In ‘A Little Chaos’ he also plays the role of Louise XIV, the Sun King. He is heavily involved in matters of state as well as attempting to build said palace, Versailles, together with its magnificent gardens. Mattias Schoenaerts, so revealing in his amazing previous outing, ‘Rust and Bone’, has a more subdued role here as the king’s gardener, André Le Nôtre – and this guy really existed too, although he was considerably older than the age of the hunk the Belgian actor portrayed in the movie. Madame De Barra, sadly, never existed. It would have been unthinkable back then for a real woman to crack that stone ceiling and be responsible for part of the landscaping under Le Nôtre. Still, without her, it would have been a dull old tale and the fictional she certainly caused consternation among the vested interests as portrayed in this cinematic product. Both Winslet and Schoenaerts are serviceable in their roles, as is Helen McCory as the scheming wife of the head gardener. Leigh could not understand how the handsome young fellow could be hitched to such a vile, much older creation – but they did things differently back then.

For me the movie doesn’t quiet work. The story line plods along – some judicious editing could have sped it up somewhat. Also there was seemingly no need to insert a back story towards the end to interrupt the flow – surely the audience would be intelligent enough to work out that widow Sabine bought a shit load of baggage into her relationship with André, once they eventually got around to acting on their feelings. Enough hints had been dropped. Broad English accents did not entirely sit well with such a period piece set in France.

It’s only when Rickman is on screen that proceedings liven up. He was delightful when, freeing himself from the remorse caused by the death of his wife and dispensing of his regal attire, he retires to his pear arbour only to meet Sabine. She decides he is just another horticultural type, causing confusion before the penny dropped – and then friendship. And I loved the bit where he explains the reasoning behind the building of Versailles was to take the children away from the temptations of city life. There are also some attractive performances from the lesser lights – Stanley Tucci as the king’s gay brother, for instance. His missus’ (Paula Paul) acceptance to Sabine of the fact her prince swings the other way is a quiet gem. ‘Silk’s’ Rupert Penry Jones is similarly very becoming in his small role as De Barra’s first friendly face at court. Rickman was very concerned that the fashions of the day – the gowns, frock coats, make-up etc – be as realistic to the times as possible, rather than a modern day type gloss over. It all largely gives the former impression despite the perfect teeth. And I did enjoy the ending, despite it being complete Hollywood mush.

All in all there is an opportunity missed here, but it still was a reasonably pleasurable way to while away a couple of hours – despite the distraction of some overly effective air-conditioning at the State turning our viewing room into an ice-box.

Fast forward now to the last century. Within the lifetimes of many of us, advancement for the female gender still had not made much headway on what De Barra had encountered. In Eisenhower’s America, on the sun-dappled coast of Northern California we find the Keanes, a couple riding a wave of fortune due to wife Margaret’s talent for kitsch and hubby Walter’s head for business acumen. The only trouble in their version of Camelot was that Walter was a fraudster – and the victim was Margaret. Claiming to be as equally endowed with artistic gifts as his spouse, Walter imported cheesy Parisian streetscapes to peddle as his own work at local markets and this is how he met his wife to be. On that occasion she was set up in a neighbouring stall, selling her own artwork, trying to make a buck after escaping misogynist husband number one. Her oeuvre on show consisted of small children with overly large eyes. After a whirlwind romance she was so charmed by the oily Walter Keane that nuptials soon ensued. Soon the man of the house was arranging joint showings of their artistic output, but hers, through a combination of events, took off and his knock-offs were being ignored. ‘No worries,’ he no doubt thought, ‘I’ll just pretend they’re mine as well.’ Word spread and Margaret’s work, signed by Walter, was soon flavour of the month with the punters, despite being derided by the critics. When Walter hit on the bright idea of turning her originals into thousands of prints so Average Joe and Josephine could afford them, they were on a roll. But at all costs the secret of their true origin had to be kept. As the marriage wore on and Walter’s behaviour developed peculiarity, Margaret became more incensed at her situation. She wasn’t going to take her subservience any longer, so she escaped to Hawaii and let the cat out of the bag. All hell broke loose, so over to the lawyers.

Initially ‘Big Eyes’ was a project intended to be a vehicle for Kate Hudson and Thomas Hayden Church. I wished it had remained that way. Whist I had no issues with Amy Adams in the role of Margaret, Christoph Waltz, as her over-bearing spouse, simply gave me the irits. No doubt this was intentional on the part of director Tim Burton, but when the proverbial hit the fan and Walter attempted to defend his own actions in court, the whole thing descended into farce. Waltz, clearly enjoying himself as a fellow going off his rocker, hammed it up for all it was worth and the film completely lost its way. Up until then I was thinking it was an interesting yarn. Burton, in an outing unusually taking him into the real world, should have exercised the control the ffilm’s courtroom judge was too inept to. It spoilt the exercise for me.

Still the movie certainly shed more light on the treatment of women during the early ‘Mad Men’ era – and it was lovely seeing actor Adams and the real artist Margaret together as the closing credits came down.

Unfortunately there are still men like Walter Keane here in our current century. Daily headlines constantly shout at us of ongoing mistreatment of women in all manner of ways – in the workforce, on our streets and behind the facades of suburbia. But whilst we have the modern equivalents of Sabine and Margaret ready to declaim ‘Enough’ and shatter glass ceilings, the fight will go on until the road reaches its destination.

‘A Little Chaos’ Official Trailer = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENSjt4naxlE

‘Big Eyes Official Trailer = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2xD9uTlh5hI

A Margaret Keane Gallery = https://keane-eyes.com/

He went to film school for two days and decided it wasn’t for him. Yet he is now one of Hollywood’s most critically acclaimed and bankable directors. Instead of the normal route, to learn his aspired-to craft he watched movie after movie on video/DVD, all accompanied by the director’s audio-commentary. In other words, he taught himself to direct. He thought the best way to get the movers and shakers to sit up and take notice was to direct porn – or, at least, a short about porn. This took the form of a mockumentary on the life of the legendary John Holmes – you’d have heard of him if you’re into that sort of thing. This half-hour 1988 effort, ‘The Dirk Diggler Story’, later morphed into ‘Boogie Nights’, the movie that really announced the arrival of a special progeny back in ’97 – and the one that introduced this scribbler to his world.

Paul Thomas Anderson was born in 1970 to a disc-jockey, voice-over father and a mother who had difficulty relating to her son, the third youngest of nine offspring. Dad, though, was very supportive, allowing son PT to run with his passions. This soon turned out to be various forms of the video camera – to the detriment of his schooling. By the early nineties his shorts were receiving notice, leading to his first full length feature in 1996, ‘Hard Eight’. Those believing in him, to the degree they gave him the financial means to make it, included luminaries such as John C Reilly and Gwyneth Paltrow. His sophomore effort was ‘Boogie Nights’, resurrecting Burt Reynolds’ career. Anderson’s idiosyncratic style has since enhanced the careers of many noted thespians including Tom Cruise (‘Magnolia’, 1999), Adam Sandler (‘Punch Drunk Love’, 2000 – a personal favourite) and the vehicle that gave Daniel Day Lewis the second of his three Best Leading Actor Oscars,’There Will Be Blood’. Many regard this as the best film to come out of the noughties. The critical and commercial success of PTA’s offerings have continued on into this present decade.

Being one of the last movies to feature the incomparable Philip Seymour Hoffman before his untimely departure, when I espied ‘The Master’, considerably reduced, at my fav merchants of popular culture, I grabbed it quick smart. I’d missed it at the multiplexes. Hoffman didn’t disappoint and was duly awarded a nomination for the big gong. But it wasn’t he that blew me away, but the lead guy, Joaquin Phoenix. He was simply incredible in this and was also duly accoladed for his efforts during the awards season. Freddie, his character, was a WW2 vet off his head with PTS and industrial strength alcohol – plus anything else he could ingest. Returning back to the States after the conflict, he creates a fracas as a fashion emporium photographer, resulting in him being down and out, stowing away on a yacht, as one does in that condition. On this vessel he encounters the charismatic leader of the Cause (Hoffman). It’s a semi-religious cult Anderson presumably based on Scientology. As Freddie’s life becomes entwined with the Cult, so do his demons wax and wane. This has the result that we, the audience, are taken on a fantastical journey through the middle-America of the Eisenhower years. There was some memorable imagery involved in this, plus a copious eyeful of sex and nudity – so be warned. Through it all Phoenix’s contorted face and body are mesmerising – a truly remarkable performance that had this punter in awe – with, I suspect Anderson also so much in his thrall that the actor was a shoo-in for the lead in his next offering.

I was hanging out to see ‘Inherent Vice’ after the excesses of the above – and as I had read about the mutton-chops. I suspect that such glorious side-burn hair may not have been witnessed since the seventies – the setting of the film. And magnificent as well were JP’s actorly chops in this production.

I’d tell you about more about the plot if I could, but it completely lost me – as it did many more competent critics than I. I reckon it’d take more than another viewing to figure it all out, a fact that possibly cost it dearly when it came to those gongs this year. ‘IV’ only raised a three for the Globes and the Golden Man combined. But the trip it takes one on is wonderful. With a palette of washed out, sun drenched and burnished hues, the movie swings viewers back to more hedonistic times when pot-addled PI Doc (Phoenix) is up to his neck in drugs and loose women. He’s searching for his ex’s new lover. Katherine Waterston is brave in her role as said ex, but the whole ensemble revelled in out-and-out weirdness. Josh Brolin, as a possibly mad LAPD officer, was a great turn. Martin Short, a manic dentist, was unrecognisable. Owen Wilson entranced as a dead saxophonist, Benicio del Toro was terrific as I am not exactly sure what and Renee Witherspoon remained super-cool as Doc’s current squeeze. I adored the whole she-bang and will wait with baited breath to see what the directorial one-off, Paul Thomas A, has next in store for us.

Official Trailer ‘The Master’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ1O1vb9AUU

Official Trailer ‘Inherent Vice’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZfs22E7JmI

First Aussie Gem is Toni Collette. Bursting into our multiplexes in 1994’s exuberant ‘Muriel’s Wedding’, Toni then went international. More the under-bubbler than the out-and-out superstar, she lights up screens large and small world-wide in such fare as ‘About a Boy’, ‘Little Miss Sunshine and the recent ‘Long Way Down’. She has also brightened up tele viewing in the ‘United States of Tara’, portraying a unique range of characters.

In her latest project, ‘Lucky Them’, our Toni plays a soon-to-be-washed-up-rock-journalist-unless-she-can-bring-home-the-bacon-one-more-time Ellie Klug, writing for the once iconic rock mag ‘Stax’. The publication is struggling in the digital age and editor (Oliver Platt) suggests that hunting down presumed dead, but sighted countless times, a la Elvis, songsmith god Matthew Smith, could just save her said bacon. Of course it just had to be that the singer was one in a long line of musician bed-buddies of Ellie’s, albeit one who particularly resonated. In this outing Collette exhibits what RogerEbert.com describes as ‘…smarts, humour and world-weary cool.’ She is almost upstaged by Platt as her strung-out boss and Ryan Eggold as her twinkly I-wanna-be-that-next-muso-you-bed try-hard. But best of all there’s Thomas Hayden Church as her odd couple travelling companion on the search. If you loved this guy in ‘Sideways’, as this punter did, you’ll adore him in this. Without giving too much away in spoiler form, another of the film’s assets is the cameo from a Hollywood legend towards the end. Accompanied by an excellent soundtrack, this indie perhaps won’t trouble next year’s award season, but it retains its interest throughout with quality performances.

Aussie Gem number two has largely passed me by all these years, but to my beloved and her daughter, Ilsa, he is solid gold. They are long standing fans of stand-up comic Carl Barron. But what made this stage star think he was movie material is a bit of a mystery beyond this scribbler’s ability to comprehend. It also has been for others, judging by the lukewarm reviews ‘Manny Lewis’ has received from the critics. The plot line is trite, clichéd, reliant on unlikely coincidence and also has my pet hate device – the last minute dash to prevent the departure forever of the potential love of one’s life.

But here’s the rub. I enjoyed the thing despite its only too obvious shortcomings. Barron reportedly is the first to admit he can’t act, with that being an understatement. He comes over as a cross between Paul Kelly – who’s also had a go with underwhelming consequences – and Karl Pilkington. Barron plays it all with a ‘Tears of a Clown’ vibe. Manny is huge on the comedy circuit – Barron doesn’t stray from what is known territory – but possesses a loveless, joyless private life. He is befuddled by fame and desperate for a woman, if only he wasn’t shy and tongue-tied in the presence of beauty. For me, when he played himself on stage he raised a few laughs, but the rest of time it’s a journey of pathos. But Barron has had the nous to surround himself with some fine supporting cast members. Roy Billing, as his sad-sack father, does his usual shtick that makes him one of our most endearing thespians, with Patrick Garvey, as Manny’s mate/manager, showing he is also a dab hand at a lighter role than the usual heavies he plays. The scene stealer for my money, though, is Lewis’ fantasy sex-line confidante (Caroline)/potential love interest (Maria) – you’ll need to see the movie to figure that out. This is charmingly played by Leeanna Walsman. She is a stunner and knocks Manny’s socks off – but he stuffs it all up in typical style.

With Barron’s fan base there is hope for this movie to have some sort of success, despite it being far inferior to many other recent local offerings that have faded away without giving a whimper. I must say, apart from another couple, my lovely lady and I were the sole viewers at our showing – not a good sign, but fingers crossed. And the interesting soundtrack, including Barron warbling to his guitar, helps no-end.

For ninety-minutes or so I was pleasantly entertained by this light confection as Barron’s alter-ego tried his best to shoot himself in the foot with his Maria. As with the above title, I strongly suspect ‘Manny Lewis’ will be absent when gongs are handed out during our own awards season. Definitely worth seeing if you are a fan and I can clearly discern that the man’s laconic stage patter does have its attractions.

‘Lucky Them ‘ Official Trailer = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KIcYfmkQcU

‘Manny Lewis’ Official Trailer = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PMoUMjWUBs