Pose Reviews A Movie. #37: Insomnia (1997)

Oh Norway...you never fail to impress. First The Bothersome Man and now this? Dare I say...Nor-way to go!

I was originally turned onto Insomnia (the film, not the disorder) when I was going through my Christopher Nolan phase (see my reviews for #30: Following and #35: The Prestige) and expressed an interest in re-watching Nolan's 2002 remake.

Both Chris and Ryan recommended the original, citing its extreme superiority, confirmed by its inclusion in The Criterion Collection.

"Better than Christopher Nolan?" I thought. "GOD'S GIFT TO CINEMA, CHRISTOPHER NOLAN?!"

I had to see it to believe it.

Then I did. And now I do.

Insomnia is the story of Jonas Engstrom, a Swedish police detective assigned to a murder investigation in a small town in Northern Norway. The town, which is located above the Arctic Circle, experiences 24-hour daylight, and Engstrom must fight the effects of unrelenting insomnia while trying to get to the bottom of the case.

It's a cool premise, and the entire film is imbued with a hyper-creepy vibe, due in large part to the acting of Stellan Skarsgård, who plays the lead role. Skarsgård plays a brilliant and cunning detective at first, but later descends into a 'bad cop' archetype, due in part by a grievous error he makes early on in the investigation, and exacerbated by his inability to sleep with the constant daylight.

But make no mistake. Engstrom (Skarsgård) is not a Dirty Harry style bad cop. He's just dirty. In fact, this is one of the best movies I've seen where, despite his undeniable cleverness, the protagonist is someone the audience comes to profoundly dislike.

However, the sinister quality of the main character makes the plot all the more compelling--as Engstrom digs himself deeper and deeper into the realm of amorality, the story gets more and more suspenseful.

I also thought Insomnia did a tasteful job of handling the subject matter of the crime at hand--it's hard to watch a film about the murder of a 15-year old girl, but the violence of the original act is depicted briefly and more or less implicitly, and there are no shocking or disturbing images of it popping up later in the film. It's still not a movie to watch with the kids, but director Erik Skjoldbjaerg makes it as easy to stomach as possible.

Overall, I thought Insomnia was an effectively suspenseful and genuinely engrossing crime thriller, and the added element of a dislikable protagonist works to make it more intriguing. I'd certainly recommend it to anyone who enjoys a good murder mystery, as long as you don't mind reading some subtitles along the way.

Pose Reviews a Movie. #20: Heat (1995)

There was a time before Miami Vice when Michael Mann actually made good movies.

Heat is undoubtedly one of them.

Not only is it chock-full of badassery, supplied simultaneously by Al Pacino as "the cop" and Robert De Niro as "the robber," it's also far more complex than a simple game of cops and robbers.

What I liked most about the film is that it presents both sides of the law as equally flawed and sympathetic. You get to see the story unfold both through the eyes of both the LAPD and the career criminals they're chasing, and you spend most of the film unsure of who to root for.

The fact is, both sides in Heat are very, very good at what they do. Robert De Niro and Val Kilmer play extremely skilled plunderers, whose Robin-Hood-esque morals lead them to target fortunes that are either federally insured or possessed by the very rich, while Pacino investigates their crimes with intelligent wit and vigor, and is always hot on the heels of the heisters.

You really get the sense that you're watching the best of the best, on both sides, and it's really exciting to watch the clever antics of the police and theives alike (Clash reference, anyone?) keeping the almost three-hour movie from getting tedious.

The film is also greatly supported by a phenomenal cast. I've already mentioned Al Pacino, Robert De Niro and Val Kilmer, but you also get Jon Voight, Tom Sizemore (AKA Tom Arnold's talented equivalent), Ashley Judd, Danny Trejo, Henry Rollins, Hank Azaria, Dennis Haysbert and a young Natalie Portman.

It's kind of like watching the Oscars if they were interesting and only attended by cool people.

And it's also worth mentioning that Mann's script is pretty damn awesome. He doesn't necessarily pull any fantastic tricks behind the camera for this one, but with the screenplay he has prepared for it, it hardly matters.

Overall, Heat is a very human crime drama--not only does it present the perspective of criminal and law enforcer alike, but it also looks at how these roles affect the people behind them.

Heat isn't out to paint good guys and bad guys--it just tells a story. And it tells it very well.

Wendy's Films of 2010: A Kurosawa/Mifune Double Bill

Besides being the first two films where Toshiro Mifune and Akira Kurosawa paired up as the epic actor/director duo they're known for, Drunken Angel and Stray Dog have a bunch of really interesting themes in common. One being the underlying parallels between the protagonists and the darker characters in the films. The whole reflective personality thing can sometimes get tiring, but Kurosawa's style makes it refreshing and intriguing to follow. He's not predictable, which I love.

#67. Drunken Angel (1948)

This was the first of many awesome collaborations between the aforementioned men, and though it wasn't astounding there was definitely a hint of what would come. Mifune plays a feisty young Yakuza who requires a doctor after refusing to deal with his health issues; the doctor, who's temper is just as spirited (in both senses of the word) is an excellent match for Mifune's childish hotshot. I love the juxtaposition of these two, it makes the film's title more ambiguous. Does the doctor save the gangster, or is the other way around? I also love the way Kurosawa reflects the filthy, crime-ridden streets of the city in the polluted pool of water across from the doctor's office. In one particularly poetic shot, a small doll is seen floating in the oily, black water; I like to think it's Kurosawa's way of showing a fragment of hope in a seemingly hopeless setting.

#68. Stray Dog (1949)

Of these two, Stray Dog is definitely my favourite. Mifune is young, vibrant and really stepping into his dark and captivating charm. He plays Det. Murakami, a rookie cop desperately searching for his stolen gun in an attempt to stop the killings being committed with it. Along side him is the calm, almost slothful Det. Sato, whose attitude is almost his complete opposite. Yet, the most interesting juxtaposition in this film is that between Murakami and the man who wields his gun. We feel connected to it and the murderer, as if it was still attached to Mifune's character. I'm pretty sure Marshall McLuhan would've had a field day. As the killings become more and more frequent, Murakami's desire to find the murderer turns frantic. The similarities between the two men are divided only by Sato's wise words, "A stray dog becomes a mad dog." Both Murakami and the killer were soldiers, but upon returning home Murakami attached himself to a stable life, whereas the other man had nothing to hold him down from the chaos that was war. The film's cinematography is brilliant, at times reflecting the themes better than the story itself. If I wasn't half asleep, I'd write another paragraph or two about its genius, but at the moment all I can say is that this is definitely among my favourite Kurosawa films.