TIM’S MOVIE REVIEWS (Click to read or scroll down the page.)

CAPOTE                        BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

MUNICH                        NARNIA

Truman Capote’s human side bought to life

By Timothy M. Bruderek

     It is easy to classify the film Capote as a brilliant character study of one of modern literature’s most complex and eccentric personalities. But this story runs much, much deeper.

     Capote recounts the events of author Truman Capote’s research for his legendary novel In Cold Blood and his manipulation and eventual friendship with accused killer Perry Smith. The film takes you behind the well-known story and finds innovative and fresh details of how Capote took interest in the murders and was able to gather painfully detailed information about them, all while showing you the human side of a literarily divine writer. 

     Philip Seymour Hoffman took on the immense challenge of playing Capote, a test that he passes with flying colors. Hoffman has been acting since his debut in 1991, but not many people could have put a name to his face. He has mostly been seen in small but memorable roles in a wide variety of films, which include the self-promoting former child star Sandy Lyle in Along Came Polly and music journalist extraordinaire Lester Bangs in Almost Famous, and had not yet had his leading breakout role. Until now. After this spot-on portrayal of Truman Capote, Hoffman will finally reach the level of recognition he deserves.

     Hoffman nails every detail of Capote’s peculiar speech, subtle nuances and quirky gestures. He talks, acts and looks so much like Capote that he makes you believe every word he says. He becomes your best friend, and you get sucked into the intimacy and pain that director Bennett Miller so intricately exhibits.

     It takes more than one great actor to craft a good movie, and luckily, Capote has the emotional backing to turn it into something extraordinary. Miller uses striking images, realistic and poignant dialogue, painful realism and heart-wrenching emotion in his story of Capote’s quest to unravel the mystery of the Clutter murders and sculpt it into the masterful work In Cold Blood. This graphic and comprehensive tale of the events leading up to the Clutters’ brutal murders, the minute-by-minute account of killers Richard Hickock and Perry Smith and the complete narrative of the guilty party’s trial and execution created the new genre of the Nonfiction Novel, and set the standard higher than any work had previously done.

     Capote is not merely for literary snobs and critics; it is for anyone who is not only attracted to immensely talented writers and noteworthy reading material, but also for anyone interested in watching a film that showcases indescribable acting and a heartbreaking story. If this film does not encourage you to read the novel In Cold Blood, then your heart must have stopped beating years ago.

Brokeback Mountain showcases a different kind of love story

By Timothy M. Bruderek

     This year’s greatest love story revolves around the most unlikely of subjects: two male ranch hands living in rural Wyoming. Brokeback Mountain goes far beyond the “Gay Cowboy Movie” tag it has unfairly been stuck with.

     Meet Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal) and Ennis Del Mar (Ledger), two young men hired to herd sheep atop Brokeback Mountain, somewhere out in Wyoming. Twist is a confident yet inept rodeo man, looking to make a few extra bucks during the summer off-season. Del Mar is a down-on-his-luck rancher struggling with financial and emotional woes. A friendship emerges both of out boredom and loneliness, and the two men form a bond the likes of which neither has experienced.

     Friendship quickly transforms into romance, a both unforeseen and unwarranted transition. Twist and Del Mar find comfort in each other’s arms, an experience that brings solace and apprehension to the men who are reveling in the joy of the unknown.

     When their stint on Brokeback Mountain ends, the men are forced to settle into the real world, not expecting to ever see each other again. An unexpected visit to Del Mar from Twist brings happiness to the bleak worlds of the now-married cowboys, which initiates a series of private “fishing trips” on which they embark for a number of years. Eventually, their respective marriages fall apart and the men seek consolation in their infrequent get-togethers. Over the next two decades, love blossoms by the rivers of Brokeback, and Jack Twist and Ennis Del Mar try to contend with a romance that must stay hidden from their families and the unsympathetic world around them.

     Director Ang Lee had the incalculable task of bringing Annie Proulx’s original short story to the big screen, and he does it both sensibly and dramatically. Lee did not shy away from the original text, and had the courage to bring the passionate details, sex and all, to life in a tender yet subtle way.

     Gyllenhaal and Ledger shine in this film, with Ledger especially deserving of any forthcoming praise. This film could have been the make-it-or-break-it point of each young actor’s career, but it created the most memorable roles each has ever played. Both seem comfortable with the possibly controversial subject matter, and will be held in high regard for their remarkable performances.

     Though Brokeback Mountain may be about gay cowboys, this is a film that anyone can relate to. Male, female, gay and straight alike will be moved by the powerful love story that Ang Lee so beautifully illustrates, and will be thankful that a film of this persuasion is good enough to be considered one of the year’s best.

Steven Spielberg’s Munich gives a face to Middle Eastern terrorism

By Timothy M. Bruderek

     In 1972, Arab terrorist group Black September massacred eleven Israeli athletes at the Munich Olympics. Steven Spielberg’s film Munich chronicles the aftermath of those brutal murders.

     Munich is inspired by the actual events of the ‘70s, but does not try to hide the fact that the story is mainly fiction. The film does not center on these events, but uses them as a canvas to paint the dark story, utilizing flashback and actual news footage from the period to put it in perspective.

     The name Steven Spielberg has become synonymous with big budget epics, and Munich does not fail to live up to those expectations. However, this film is a pivotal step in Spielberg’s career—gone are the family-friendly sentiments and the feel-good stories of the past. Munich illustrates the devastation and horror of the ongoing Palestine-Israel conflicts, and paints a picture of terrorism that has never looked so real.

     Eric Bana managed to emerge from recent stinkers The Hulk and Troy unscathed and is now reaching the highest point of his game. Bana plays Avner Kauffman, a Jewish family man of both Israeli and German descent, handpicked by the Israeli government to lead a revenge mission to eliminate the Arabs involved in the Munich massacre. Prime Minister Golda Meir, who Kauffman formerly guarded as a Massad agent, chooses him to lead the eclectic squad of Jewish hit men.

     Kauffman takes on his perilous assignment at the same time his wife is due to give birth to their first child, and his longing for the love of his family and the solitude of home life is painful and ironic given the task at hand. Startling images of war-torn families and children watching their parents being killed color the film in vivid sadness, highlighted only by the grim agony of death. 

     Bana’s performance is spellbinding. He acts with honesty and passion while slipping into Avner’s shoes both comfortably and effortlessly. Bana embodies the confident and handsome hit man who wheels and deals to find his next targets by handing out mountains of cash, while at the same time struggling to hide the unbearable paranoia and painful emotional aching that lurks beneath the serene surface.

     Spielberg borrows some ideas from films like Ocean’s Eleven and The Italian Job as he dissects the anatomy of the killings and reconstructs them with minute and meticulous detail. However, while those movies center on stealing money and fast cars, Spielberg’s work has the elements that were missing from these other fast-moving blockbusters: raw emotion, blood, gore and consequences.

     This movie is not for the squeamish. Some of the killings are brutal and horrific, and perfectly showcase the harsh reality of war. 

     Spielberg went out on a limb to present a film about one of the biggest hot-button topics in recent American history, and he does not sidestep the hard-hitting issues. Controversy has followed this movie due to his one-sided view of the conflict, showing mainly the struggle for peace and freedom on the side of the Israelis.

     Munich is Spielberg at his undeniable best, going deep inside the never-ending struggle in the Middle East and peeling back the layers of a complicated political battle.  The acting is subtle yet powerful, and the film emotes a feeling of depression and hopelessness that mirrors the feelings of the people actually involved in this hellish lifestyle. Munich carries on the quality of Spielberg’s work, while focusing it in a completely different direction. The tears shed throughout this film are different from those at the end of E.T., for in this case, you can hear the whole world weeping.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe finds magic in unexpected places

By Timothy M. Bruderek

     Bringing The Chronicles of Narnia to life in a live-action film was no easy task. C. S. Lewis’ beloved book series was full of fantastical creatures and places, and at the time, it was practically unfilmable. But time has passed and technology has surpassed everyone’s expectations, and the time is just right for the first part of the Narnia series, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to be turned into a major motion picture.

     When Disney signed on to distribute the film, many feared it would turn into another piece of commercial garbage that it has been known for pumping out in recent years. But with Andrew Adamson on board to direct, the movie turned the magic of the beloved story into a truly outstanding film.

     Moviegoers, especially the younger and more literate variety, have recently been accustomed to magic being a key theme on the big screen. The Harry Potter films have made magic a well-known subject, and the movie adaptation of those books was hard to surpass. Narnia focuses on a different kind of magic; it centers on the spiritual.

     A small amount of controversy surrounded this film before its release, as it was being promoted by Christian groups. Yes, the film does have some religious themes running through it: Aslan, the Christ figure “on the move” and bringing Spring along with him; the “Sons of Adam” and “Daughters of Eve” who will return to Narnia and fulfill “The Prophecy”; themes of sacrifice and resurrection. These religious themes are there if you are avidly looking for them, but if you wish to ignore them and enjoy a charming, action-packed family film with heart, then you are better off.

     Tilda Swinton is delightfully evil as The White Witch, who cons Edmund, the youngest Pevensie, into betraying his sisters and brother (Lucy, Susan and Peter, respectfully). The White Witch, who has taken over Narnia and turned it into an everlasting winter with no Christmas, is fearful of the rumors that Aslan, former King of Narnia, is back. Now that the Pevensies have entered the world of Narnia (through a wardrobe in the Professor’s house), the prophecy may finally be fulfilled.

     Upon Lucy’s first venture through the wardrobe, she meets Mr. Tumnus, a man-goat hybrid (an outstanding James McAvoy), who teaches her the ways of the world and betrays the White Witch to protect Lucy. This sets off a chain of events, which has the Pevensie children on the run from the Witch and seeking the protection of Aslan. The children are trained in battle and in loyalty, and when the witch declares war, the children are ready to lead the side of good.

     The story is well-known, but the its cinematic depiction was the part that was questionable. Not to fear—Narnia is gorgeous, dramatic and soulful. The CGI creatures are a perfect illustration of the characters from the original text. Aslan, who is voiced by Liam Neeson, is vividly realistic, and is integrated seamlessly with the real life actors. The army of magical beasts and creatures are believable and convincingly scary.

     Though it has taken decades for The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to be made, it was well worth the wait. Book fanatics and newcomers alike with revel in the film’s splendor and its touching story. The story is now legendary, and its live-action rendering is not to be missed.

© Copyright Timothy M. Bruderek, 2005

TIM’S POETRY

Sixty Miles

If Your Eyes Are Brown…

Lonely Summer

Firefly

November Wind

Dead Rain

Overture

3 A.M./The Sunsets In Between

Another Winter

Maps

Sixty Miles

Sixty miles apart, a long

stretch of highway divides our schools

and our busy lives,  Edge of Seventeen

blasting out of the windows

of my grey Dodge. Yellow line,

white line, dotted and spotted and striped lines

are painted slowly down the center

of the road

as I drive, past a lonely billboard

and an occasional telephone pole.

Sixty miles of long distance

relationships and phone bills. I pick up

the phone

after one ring, hoping it is your voice

each time. We used to drive down I-95

together, listening to Joni and

letting the cool air stretch our

hair out of the windows

of your old Ford Escort.

Your speed,

your car and your youth in the air

that blows through the windows;

it lies by the side of the road,

like a ripped up tire, covered in dust

and dirt and shards of plastic

from a broken mix tape

that I made for you.

If Your Eyes Are Brown…

If your eyes are brown, await me.

I long for pink strands in my crown

and to swim free from it.

To knock them down like game pieces,

the stale figures,

into a pool of tin.

Swim, swim away…

Tie me up with seasons,

and self, and your prettiest textures.

What to do, not read you and

plagiarize? To sing down

without plugging their mouths?

To sing you…

I blow like brass

to hear from here to there.

You left without your home,

you swirled my placid face into a trance.

To survive on herbs by the sea.

To survive…

If your eyes are wet, await me;

fortune will make it like this.

I will balance this wire for you.

I’ll lie in porcelain

and break it into points.

To break this…

Lonely Summer

I don’t see the sunny days

or the lines on the pages of yesterday.

I see the smiles you could have

smiled, the tears you would have cried when

you were hurt. I see the summers when

I’d take you to the zoo and the

winters when I would bundle you up

and kiss your chilly cheeks before

you braved the snowballs.

I can’t say they drowned you,

because you would have risen to

the top with the bubbles.

When May comes and the flowers

open, the rain will fall and water

the earth, but you won’t be there.

The sun’s face will not look

down on you or hear you laugh

when the breeze tickles you.

I will journey down this road

with no one holding my hand, not

this year or next. Maybe I will

see you when I think of who

you’d be today.

Firefly

Firefly, fly through my window

and cast your shadow on my face.

I’ll put up the

blankets to shield my eyes

from the wings you’ll

beat me with.

Firefly, make music

with your gentle hum.

I’ll plug my ears when your

buzz is louder than the wind

you’ll blow in.

Firefly, prick me with your

toxic sting. A dreadful feeling

will fill my body with pain.

My hands will go numb as I reach

out to grab you.

Firefly, light up my dreary nights.

Your light will die when the morning

breaks. I’ll feel my way through

the blinding darkness. I won’t

feel you in my room anymore.

November Wind

Fear the silence on the other end of the phone.

Words trickle to the tune of tears fallen.

Face is swelled and candy apple cheeks are flush

in the November wind.

Leaves in piles on the sidewalk scatter and blow

into the gutter. Little feet that trod through

the muddy rainwater will never

again fall.

Frozen sheets lay limp beside the bed.

One handprint is alive

on the icy window,

waving goodbye to autumn.

Hug the pillow of a former lover,

a best friend from the past decade.

November’s wind died down

with the sound of your name

blowing through it.

Dead Rain

Dead rain falls on cracked wheat.

Two foggy eyes are crying today.

A heartbeat echoes in the empty chasms

of your womb.

Fingers are wrapped around your life line.

You will not be buried in the frozen ground

with geese slipping on the icy lake above.

You will hold my thumb in your fist

and press your mouth on my tearful smile.

Do not get caught in the dead rain

or feel the stars melt around you.

Your breath has brought energy to this empty field.

I want to watch you grow when the spring comes.

Overture

I dine by the light of the amber glass.

The wine is poured, the pedals pressed,

the piano is drinking for me.

I sip from crystal goblets, let the drink

drip down my mouth.

The silver spoons sparkle by candelabra--

tap, tap, tap on the water glass--

they play their luminous song.

Drums are banged and I rest

after having already banged them.

The guests all fled

when the band passed away.

I see spots

on yesterday’s sheet music.

Notes bend and flow

like the holy water that’s burning

my soul.

One more drop to be drunk,

the chords will help me sleep.

The birds blow at midnight, and I have

time to reflect on the rumors

of the songs of old. It takes

more than words to take me down.

Let the songs of tonight take me out.

3 A.M./The Sunsets In Between

I look for you in the stars

     and in the flat tire of an old bicycle.

I listen for you with the deaf ears of shaking trees,

     as the moon uses their leaves as a blanket.

I watch as the river water turns to ice

     and the sunlight sinks beneath it.

I step with the restlessness of windy beaches

     while the sand writes the words to the ocean’s song.

I close my eyes as it cries its salty waves

     that come and go as quickly as the morning.

I look for you in the burning lamps

     that keep 3 a.m. alive for hours.

I wait for you as black midnight turns to white afternoon

     and remember all of the sunsets in between.

Another Winter

Another winter, standing on the shores,

you can hear the sirens beckon.

Years upon quarter centuries beside

a flickering fire,

licking the wounds of another winter.

The sirens sing in watery harmony.

When the sun melts into the morning foam,

you dance upon the salty earth,

your eyes more fertile

than this land.

Your life burns in the equinox.

You hide your mind from the howling sea.

Summer’s dust becomes

winter’s frost, as the voices lure you

to leave it behind.

Another winter drags you below the snow.

Your skull is frozen in icy song.

The wind shakes away

last month’s rain.

You drink in the music

and drown in the voices.

Maps

A locked old trunk

and winter coat lay in an

empty back seat.

They rest upon stacks of

weathered maps.

Maps that once led children

on treasure hunts,

through fields of cherry wheat

to X marks the spot.

The exes have become dots,

unconnected, no lines drawn between

Philadelphia and Denver.

The tire tread left behind

with the dust of yesterday’s news.

The engine is growling,

impatient, ready to see you.

The maps give no direction, they lay

silent as the sound of your name

drowns out the radio.

We draw maps to

rebuild bridges and scale Rocky Mountains

and swim Mississippis. Your face

is zipped into the luggage

and smiles

atop a heap of

maps.

© Copyright Timothy M. Bruderek, 2005

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