Saturday, January 2, 2010

Nine

In my goal to write about every movie I see in 2010 (ha, good luck to me) I begin by cautioning you:

I am no expert at movies. I don't know anything about them. I don't know the names or faces of several famous or significant actors. I don't really know precisely what makes a director great. I think I know what cinematography means, but I have no indication of whether what I like is good or not. I probably haven't even seen 7 of your 10 favorite movies. But I'm trying to get better at this, and I'm paying more attention, and I'm spending more time than ever appreciating the art form of film and cinema. (Is there a difference? I'm not being ignorant; I just don't know.)

I saw Nine last night. I (sorry) fell asleep through most of Julie & Julia tonight. That's beside the point. Nine is directed by Rob Marshall, the dude who did Chicago. I remember feeling kinda "eh" about Chicago. (Sorry, Renee Zellweger, you bored me.) But Nine? I was wide awake.

The first thing that strikes me about this movie is the hugeness - the costumes, ornate and beautiful; the location, Euro extreme with hillside towns, gorgeous vistas, fancy hotels, expansive movie sets; the musical productions, big bang pow! It was almost too much to take... in the best way possible. I loved every minute of Daniel Day-Lewis onscreen, playing the role of Guido Contini. Contini is based on Federico Fellini, the super surrealistic Spanish director from the 60s.

I had the pleasure of watching parts of Fellini films this summer while interning at WCPN, and they are just precious and crazy and frightening and... so much to see. Brilliant. So Contini is the portrait of Fellini, a rich, talented director who finds new (ridiculously attractive) women around every corner, despite the fact that he is married to the prettiest Snow White in the land.

Fellini/Contini is nuts. He's batshit crazy. He's all conflicted about religion, and cheating, and making the best of films. Yet the whole time, he's balancing his work life with a mistress, a whore, memories of his late mother, a muse... mostly all the women I mentioned before.

Penelope Cruz is a revelation as his mistress. Ladies, leave your gentleman boyfriend behind for this film. Her strutting and pouting and rope dancing leaves the entire theater foaming at the mouth, rabies-style, every time she flickers across the screen. The other women are mostly fantastic, as well. Fergie (REALLY? CASTED HER?) is the sickest, most fierce whore ever (OH, I get it.) She's sooo intense. Nicole Kidman, yup, she's alright.

But Marion Cotillard moves mountains. Her sensitive portrayal of his wronged, damaged wife really stings. Her eyes say everything you ever wanted to know about a woman making sacrifices and deflating herself for a man. It's heartbreaking. She's stunning.

The music was pretty grand, maybe not the best ever, but as the editors switched between the real stories that the songs were about and the broadway-style musical performances, the story solidified. They brought a depth and emotional understanding through the craft of song.

My vote: See it.