If I Picked The Oscars....

With the 2011 Oscar Announcement's looming, I think I'll take this opportunity to share with you my own picks for the best work in films in the last year. Do you care? Probably not, but I'll share anyway :-)

Here's hoping 2012 will be even better!

Best Picture

Midnight in Paris
Beginners
Shame
The Artist
Drive
The Tree of Life
Hugo
Martha Marcy May Marlene
Warrior
Moneyball

Best Director

Michel Hazanavicius – The Artist
Terence Malick – The Tree of Life
Martin Scorcese - Hugo
Mike Mills – Beginners
Steve McQueen – Shame

Best Actor

Michael Fassbender – Shame
George Clooney – The Descendants
Demian Bichir – A Better Life
Ryan Gosling – Drive
Brad Pitt – Moneyball

Best Actress

Michelle Williams – My Week With Marilyn
Meryl Streep – The Iron Lady
Elizabeth Olsen – Marcy Mary May Marlene
Carey Mulligan – Shame
Tilda Swinton – We Need To Talk About Kevin

Best Supporting Actor

John Hawkes – Martha Marcy May Marlene
Albert Brooks – Drive
Bryan Cranston – Drive
Ben Kingsley - Hugo
Christopher Plummer – Beginners

Best Supporting Actress

Viola Davis – The Help
Shailene Woodley – The Descendants
Berenice Bejo – The Artist
Jessica Chastain – The Help
Octavia Spencer – The Help

Best Original Screenplay

Woody Allen – Midnight in Paris
Mike Mills – Beginners
Terrence Malick – The Tree of Life
Steve McQueen, Abi Morgan – Shame
Sean Durkin – Martha Marcy May Marlene

Best Adapted Screenplay

John Logan – Hugo
Alexander Payne and Nick Faxon & Jim Rash – The Descendants
Steve Zaillian, Aaron Sorkin - Moneyball
Amini Hossien – Drive
Lee Hall, Richard Curtis – War Horse

Best Cinematography

Emmanuel Lubezki - The Tree of Life
Janusz Kaminski – War Horse
Robert Richardson - Hugo
Guilliame Schiffman - The Artist
Steve Bobbitt - Shame

Best Editor

Hank Corwin, Jay Rabinowitz, Daniel Rezende, Billy Weber, Mark Yoshikawa – The Tree of Life
Anne-Sophie Bion, Michel Hazanavicius – The Artist
Michael Kahn – War Horse
Thelma Schoonmaker - Hugo
Joe Walker - Shame

Best Art Direction

Dante Ferretti - Hugo
Rick Carter - War Horse
Jack Fisk – The Tree of Life
Gregory Hooper – The Artist
James Murakami – J Edgar

Best Costume Design

Sandy Powell - Hugo
Jacqueline West – The Tree of Life
Joanna Johnston – War Horse
Jill Taylor – My Week With Marilyn

Best Original Score

Alexander Desplat - The Tree of Life
Cliff Martinez – Drive
John Williams – War Horse
Ludovic Bource – The Artist
Mark Isham - Warrior

Best Sound

War Horse
Rise of the Planet of the Apes
Hugo
The Tree of Life
Warrior

Best Animated Film

Rango

Steven Spielberg is not an edgy filmmaker.

In fact, he's the exact opposite. If you looked up the Hollywood style in the dictionary, you'd likely be shown a xerox copy of Mr. Spielberg's IMDB page.

Ever since defining the "blockbuster" with "Jaws," his own personal style has become the template against which big budget action films are judged. And he rarely misses a beat. I mean, how can you miss the mark when you are the mark, right?

Well, after a brief hiatus, Mr. Spielberg is back at it again. With two movies as a matter of fact. With "The Adventures of Tin Tin," he catches his colleague Robert Zemeckis' fever for CGI animation. And with the wonderful new work, "War Horse," he draws on all his experience and vast skill set to produce what Spielberg does best. Create a Spielberg movie.

Spielberg films to me always feel more like watching a moving storyboard than anything actually taking place in the real world. His characters leap forward from the screen as if drawn from comic books. If you watch it closely, even in Spielberg's Oscar winning "Schindler's List," you will see the same sweeping camera moves as you would in "E.T." or "Catch Me If You Can." And, as with all of his films, those sweeping crane shots float to the orchestral sounds of John Williams' sweeping scores.

"War Horse," the sweeping epic of one horse's journey during World War I Europe is perfectly suited for this approach. With it's sights set firmly on your heartstrings, the film doesn't pull any emotional punches. Told through episodic sequences, we follow the majestic horse and the lives of the humans who it comes into contact with. Set among vast English countrysides and massive battles, the film is oddly most effective when dealing in minutiae. The drama of an auction block. A fall harvest. The most efficient way to cut barbed wire. All these scenes work because we are fully invested in the lead character. Even if he does arrive on four legs.

"War Horse" is heroism in the face of great tragedy. Of beauty in a time of horror. You won't leave the theater thinking you've seen the reinvention of the wheel. But by the time Spielberg lays his late "Gone With The Wind" inspired final shot on you, you will find yourself wishing you had a war horse of your own. And your heart will once again be warmed over.

THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (David Fincher Version) - Film Review

Did the 2009 Swedish classic "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" really need to be remade?

No.

The brilliant tension of the original has hardly had a chance to grow stale in the whopping TWO whole years since it's initial release. Aside from a few small changes, the story hasn't changed much as laid out in the late Stieg Larsson's smash hit novel "Men Who Hate Women" (retitled for the film release). And even the presence of one of my favorite directors David Fincher is hardly enough to justify remaking an already exemplary movie trilogy just because of American's inexplicable reluctance to read subtitles.

I don't think I'm overstating things when I say that the character of Lisbeth Salander (here played by Rooney Mara but originated on screen by Noomi Rapace) is one of the most dynamic creations in recent literary history. Pint-sized in stature, she appears superhuman in her ability and ferocity. A goth hacker with a punk-rock hairdo who's never met a match she can't defeat, or an evil she can't out-duel. Okay, that's oversimplifying a bit. Actually, it's oversimplifying a lot.

You see, what makes the Salander character so interesting is not that she's invincible. It's that she only appears to be invincible.

Beneath the tattoos and piercings is a wounded girl. Some of the details of her wounds are better explained in later chapters of the trilogy and won't be discussed here. But the bravado is on display from the word go. The dark eye liner. The black leather. The snarl. Every minute of her existence is geared toward signaling to the world that she isn't to be messed with.

But what lies beneath that is a woman has been deeply messed with. A woman with a deep distrust of people, she instead keeps them at a distance. A woman so hurt be past relationships that, instead of misplacing her love, she decides rather not to give it at all.

So why let down her guard for Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig)? The weathered news reporter is coming off the public embarrassment of trying to tell the truth about someone wealthy enough to change what the truth is. Hired by a wealthy Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) to investigate a family so maladjusted as to achieve Shakespearean proportions, Mikael first engages Lisbeth as a research assistant. She's the best. He should know. She was the one they hired to investigate him.

The suspense that follows is just the icy scales of the story, while it's heart rests in the relationship between Mikael and Lisbeth and how each perceive exactly what that relationship is.

It's impossible to review this new film without comparing it to the old one. Since there's very little fundamentally different about this film other than it's clearly superior budget, the main point of conversation lies on the slender shoulders of... you guessed it, Lisbeth Salander.

Trying to replace Noomi Rapace as Lisbeth Salander is like trying to replace Vivien Leigh in a remake of "Gone With The Wind" (I only use that as an example Hollywood. Please DO NOT remake "Gone With The Wind."). Rapace so fully embodied Salander that it's really hard to imagine another actress ever playing the role. Miss Mara does an admirable job. However, where Miss Rapace seemed to BE Lisbeth Salander, I never shook the sense that Miss Mara was simply PLAYING Lisbeth Salander. And there's a lot to play with. The tough exterior. The wounded interior. The tattoo. Like Scarlet O'Hara, the role of Lisbeth Salander is pure gold. I think the difference between their two performances lies in the fundamental differences between Hollywood movies and those made in the rest of the world. The depth is there in both, it's just that the rest of the world is a little more comfortable burying things a bit deeper.

Rapace's Salander is a constant enigma. I know it sounds strange, but she's almost not human. More like a feral animal. Unpredictable. You have no idea what she'll do next. And she never telegraphs her motivations. When the original Salander climbs into bed with someone, you get the sense that she is asserting her power. She screws, she doesn't make love. Making love would be too personal.

When this Salander makes love, there is a kindness to it. When she meets a woman in a nightclub, there is almost a shyness to the initial encounter. Later, when taking a man into her bed, it directly follows seeing a picture of him as a happy couple, signaling to the audience that what she really wants is love.

Oddly, this may be true. For both versions of Salander. She's built up this unpenetrable persona to push the world away. But on the inside, all she really wants is for someone to pierce the shield. The difference between the two films is that Rapace's Salander would never be caught dead letting on to that fact. Whereas Mara's Salander projects an inner warmth just waiting to be uncovered.

It will be interesting to see what happens with this new series. The original trilogy, as good as it was, did trail off over the course of three films, with the third being the weakest (not coincidentally it's also the one with the least amount of screen time for the actual Girl With The Dragon Tattoo). Here, David Fincher has more openly introduced a possible emotional arc for the character of Lisbeth Salander that could potentially span the three films. While I would call a match up between the two versions of the first chapter a draw that slightly leans towards the Swedish version, I think Fincher's team has a chance to perhaps make a more effective complete trilogy. An extended epilogue in this film not present in the original, sets up a nice narrative conflict for coming episodes. And as much as I may dislike remakes, I'll definitely be on board for part two. Or, part five. Not exactly sure how to say that.

THE ARTIST - Film Review

It took me a while to see Michel Hazanavicius' new film "The Artist." Playing in limited release, I'd heard all the buzz and knew it was one of those films a person like me is "supposed to see" this time of year. But when I looked at the trailer, all I could see was an obvious mash-up of "A Star is Born" and "Singing in the Rain." True, bonus points go out to any filmmaker bold and inventive enough to make a silent black and white movie in 2011, but still, I felt I'd seen the story before. Like five times before. "Singing in the Rain." Three versions of "A Star is Born" which come immediately to mind. And even the original "A Star is Born" called "What Price, Hollywood?" So I wasn't sure I wanted to watch the same story again. Wouldn't it be the exact same thing? Well, in a word, yes. But like all five films before, the familiar story still did not fail to warm me over by the end.

You see, there's a reason filmmakers are repeatedly drawn to the rags-to-riches, riches-to-rags story of two lovers on opposing trajectories. It makes for damn good drama. And when you have a cast as winning as this, you'll find yourself in for a very good time.

A brief recap for those who haven't seen the story before. A dashing leading man, George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is flying high in silent movies. At the same time, the scrappy upstart Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) is just scrambling to get her foot in the door. After a meet-cute movie premiere, George and Peppy start the kind of whirlwind on again-off again romance that is the stuff of... silent movies. Well, with the dawning of sound, silent movie stars like George suddenly find themselves at the wrong end of the unemployment line. But the aptly named Peppy has just what it takes. As her star rises, his begins to fade, and the big time star becomes the small time failure.

I'm not sure what it is about this story that resonates generation after generation. Maybe it's the allure of fairy tale love in Tinseltown. Perhaps it's setting signals just the right amount of glitz and glamor.

But I tend to think it's something more basic than that. I think these films tap into something more primal. Man's need to be King of the Hill. Our basic need to provide for our family. Or, more importantly, to be powerful enough to be able to provide for those we love. It's often said, and proven, that women are attracted to confidence. Powerful men, often with few other redeeming qualities other than that power, tend to attract more women. A sociologist would do a better job of explaining why, but most of their rambling would likely amount to women's primal need to find a strong breadwinner. Literally in the cave man days. The man that is most adept at bringing home the bacon, brings home the most... bacon. He can provide for his woman, and therefore becomes desirable. Apparently not a whole lot has changed since the dawn of man. And Hollywood movie star is one darn good way of providing for your mate.

But what happens when you cannot provide for those you love? What happens when your best efforts fall on deaf ears? When she needs you, when she looks to you for support, but all you can offer her is your own failures. Many of us will know that failure. Few will know the success. And for those who know both, who climb great heights only to tumble from the mountain top, the fall is all the more precarious.

"The Artist," and all the films that inspired it, is essentially about a proud man's emasculation. About his ability, or often inability, to adjust to a world where he's no longer on top.

And to need the undying love and support of a woman, who will love you come what may.

That's the other half of the "Star is Born" equation and what takes the tale from tragic to timeless. Peppy Miller, with all her awkward angles and narrow frame, is exactly the kind of woman that can make the toughest man go all dough eyed. The kind of woman you want to reach out and protect. The kind of woman that you want to provide for. But she's also the kind with a hidden strength. The kind you suspect may need less caring for than your ego first imagined. The kind capable of providing you support as well. The who, when you cradle in your arms, somehow makes you feel more safe. She fills the room with her smile. She fills your heart with her love.

"The Artist" is more than just a retold story. It's a wonderful movie. And a reminder that when you've hit rock bottom and you have nothing left but the love of a good woman, you can still seem the richest man in the world.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER - Movie Review

For the first 123 minutes of the surprisingly good “Captain America: The First Avenger,” I had somehow forgotten I was watching a Marvel Comics movie.
While lining their pockets with cash through an endless procession of their comic book heroes onto celluloid, Marvel Comics, more than any other company over the last few years, has spearheaded the overwhelming stupification of the American public. Yes, I’m aware that’s not a real world. What can I tell you, I’ve been watching too many Marvel Comics movies.

They started out well enough. The first Spiderman movie with Tobey Maguire was quite good. The second even better. Despite the stories cartoon origins, they took their stories seriously and spun a nice web (apologies to Spidey for the pun). But like Starbucks, the world only needs so many superhero movies. So even though some of the X-Men films have been mildly entertaining, hardly any of the films resulting from Marvel’s multi-picture distribution deal have really served any cinematic purpose at all other than to line the pockets of their investors.

The “Iron Man” series is loud and bright and gives Robert Downey Jr. a franchise of his own. But ultimately you’ve forgotten the entire story as soon as you leave the theatre. The X-Men franchise is steady, but has yet to ever rise to the level of greatness. They’ve tried twice to make “The Hulk” work. They’ve failed twice. And “Thor.” Oh, “Thor.” I imagine one day when Natalie Portman looks back on her long career while polishing her multiple Oscars, her great grandchildren will run into the room and sweetly ask her to pop in the “Thor” Blu-Ray for the thousandth time at which point Miss Portman will have to fight very hard from smacking them, or worse, smacking herself for ever signing up for such a monumental piece of junk in the first place.

So, along comes “Captain America: The First Avenger” starring Chris Evans as the patriotic soldier tasked with taking on a renegade Nazi (Hugo Weaving of “Matrix” fame) hell bent on world domination. Honestly, after the two hours of endless torture I suffered at the hands of “Thor” I don’t even know why I bothered to give this one a chance.

But I’m glad I did.

Like the early Spiderman movies, here the storytellers get back to, duh, telling a story. And like those early Spiderman films, our hero in the full body spandex is a regular guy. In the case of Steve Rogers (the real name of our tri-colored hero), he may even be less than regular. Height-wise at least. Repeatedly turned away from servicing his country during World War II due to his physical limitations, Steve constantly tries to make up for it by having the biggest heart. He never backs down in a fight. Proves during a training exercise that he has more courage than even the most striking soldiers in his unit. And shows that while not big on stature, he’s the best soldier in the Army.

Of course no one else can see that except the scientist Dr. Abraham Erskine (played with usual charm by Stanley Tucci) and the tough but beautiful British agent Peggy Carter (played by Hayley Atwell). Not sure if it’s the British accent or not, but I haven’t fallen this hard for a Marvel Comics heroine since Kirsten Dunst in “Spiderman.”

This all makes the events of “Captain America” that much more compelling. The hero of the film isn’t a Scandinavian God whose only real trouble in the world is wondering when he will ascend to the throne. Instead, Steve Rogers has to spend life wondering whether he’ll ever measure up at all. When will he get his chance to fight? Will he ever be the one who gets the girl?

So when he runs into danger to save civilization, on a basic level he’s getting a chance to prove his own worth and repay the faith of the one woman who actually believes in him. Forget the superhero angle, this is a solid love story. A rags-to-riches tale of a small town boy who makes good.

And then…. Marvel steps in.

The first 123 minutes of the 124 minute movie were wonderfully and honestly rendered. For a second, I’d forgotten I was watching a comic book.

But, sadly this is Hollywood. And, for the money men, this film is never going to be anything else than a prequel for the upcoming “Avengers” movie that joins Captain America with his Marvel brethren Iron Man, Wolverine, The Hulk, and damnit, Thor!
So after an effective and emotional climactic scene, it’s a tremendous letdown when we are treated to an epilogue that completely undoes all the goodwill engendered by the first 123 minutes. I won’t tell you what happens in that last tacked on scene. Actually, if you’re quick enough with the remote, you may want to just press stop on the DVD player after the initial fade out so you won’t even have to see it. Because what happens in the scene not only cheapens the authenticity of what comes before, but adds an unnecessary level of sadness while simultaneously nullifying the emotional truth of the scene that comes before.

But Bravo for those first 123 minutes. This is a comic book movie that works. Take that, you stupid Thor!

LIKE CRAZY - Film Review

Why do we go to love stories?

Is it to escape the reality of our own romantic entanglements, if only for two short hours, and revel in a love that we've always dreamed of yet never knew? Or is it to see an honest reflection of the way love really is? Messy. Unpredictable. And without the guarantee of happily ever after.

Some of the greatest screen romances ever told have taken the latter route. From "Annie Hall" to "Once," filmmakers have been taking honest looks at both the ups AND downs of modern romance. And while the new indie romance "Like Crazy" may not reach the same stratospheric level of success as those two films, it clearly aims to occupy the same territory.

In this present, we are concerned with the fortunes of Jacob and Anna (Anton Yelchin and Felicity Jones). The two meet in college and have one of those whirlwind romances that are usually only reserved for the under 25 set. But like all solid movie romances, their courtship comes with an obstacle. While Miss Jones' British accent may have had both Mr. Yelkin and myself at "hello," it seems as though United States Customs and Immigration agents aren't so charmed. As if conspiring to keep these two apart, the laws of the land keep throwing speed bumps into their fairy tale and threaten to tear the two apart.

Not that this film is an indictment or deep comment on immigration. If you want that, you're better off going for Thomas McCarthy's excellent "The Visitor" from 2007. Come to think of it, that film may also offer more in depth perspective on unspoken love as well.

But, as often is the case, the problem for Jacob and Anna isn't the number of times they verbalized their feelings. Or even the strength of them. It's the fact that in the movie, like outside of it, life too often gets in the way.

I've often compared love to launching a space ship. Simply everything has to go right for it not to end in tragedy. First, you have to meet the right person. Then, you have to meet them at the right time. Then, that person has to actually like you too (therein lies my own usual stumbling block). So, let's say you've miraculously met all the first three requirements and somehow fallen in love. Now, immigration comes along and takes them away and your too poor (or I suspect in the case of Jacob's character too selfish) to fly to England to be with them.

It sucks.

This film asks a number of poignant questions. Why is it that Jacob can't move to England? Doesn't it seem like she's always the one making the sacrifice. Amazingly enough, it's the beautiful Miss Jones that even makes the first move. Talk about things that only happen in the movies! Just because you have an amazing love with someone, does this mean that you're really meant to be with them long term? Can a love like this even survive forever?

This film gets so many things right. That is, if you're one of the people who prefer their fairly tales with a touch of reality. If not, there are plenty of the alternative. "Jerry Maguire," "Notting Hill," "When Harry Met Sally," or any other love story that ends with either one or the other partner literally running to catch the other. And if you prefer those, that's okay. All three are among my favorites and have made me cry on more than one occasion.

But if you're looking for something to remind you of the soul crushing roller coaster ride of love in the real world, this film is for you.

Film Review - The Ides of March

If you could win an Academy Award for a combination of performances, this would be Ryan Gosling's year.

In the last month he's played such a wide array of convincing characters that one can't help but to wonder which man Ryan Gosling really is. Is he the strong silent type as he plays so effectively in the brilliant noir thriller "Drive?" Or is he the womanizing loveable cad with a gift for gab he portrays opposite Steve Carrell in "Crazy Stupid Love?" Or, is he something in between.

That might describe the character Gosling plays in his latest masterstroke as the ambitious Stephen Myers in the George Clooney directed political drama "The Ides of March." Stephen isn't the verbose ladies man on the prowl. But he's got enough charm to talk the world's most beautiful intern, Molly Stearns (played by Evan Rachel Wood) into bed. He's a man of few words, like his character in "Drive." And like that character, when he speaks, it's with a distinct purpose. In this case that purpose is to get his candidate elected president of the United States. He's dedicated to his job, and dedicated to his candidate Mike Morris (George Clooney in a thankless role). He's proud of saying that he's a veteran of more political campaigns than most will see in a lifetime. But even the pre-jaded Stephen Myers can't help but fall a little in love with this Democratic wet dream who, not so coincidentally, bears a striking resemblance to Obama circa 2008. Temperament and policy wise, of course. Physically, not so much. But, in case you miss the connection, production designer Sharon Seymour drives home the point with the same kind of pop-art Hope (or in this case Believe) posters that drove Obama's first campaign. Yet, the question remains, can we believe? And, despite the references, this film is by no means a condemnation of the current administration. or any administration for that matter. Instead, the question on Clooney's mind behind the camera seems to be, can we believe in the integrity of anyone? And if we do, is it even possible for any candidate to make it to the White House with that integrity intact? And, if we can't, then what are we all fighting for? Is the object of politics to help the people? Or to get elected?

Far too big a question of course to be answered by one movie. Instead, Clooney chooses to focus on the moral crisis faced by one man. And he wisely chooses to have that man played by Ryan Gosling.

Anyone who's seen "The Notebook" (and yes, that includes you, even though I won't make you admit it out loud) knows that Ryan Gosling is bursting with charisma. He has "It." Whatever "It" is. He holds your attention on screen. Like coming across a tiger in an alleyway. You can't turn away because you want to know what he's going to do next.

But Gosling, like his director and co-star Clooney, has made a career out of harnessing that charisma into characters who are greater parts substance than show. We can see in the way he carries himself that he IS a hardened campaign manager. But we can also see as the story goes along that a bit of that idealist that drove him into politics in the first place still remains. The moral question at the heart of the film is whether or not the two can co-exist.

You'll have to watch the film to find out. Like every element of life circa 2011, you're reaction may be slightly tinged red or blue by your personal politics. But you hardly have to be a bleeding heart liberal to enjoy the film. We've all wondered whether or not idealism can survive the coarse reality of life. If you haven't wondered about that, you're either the sweetest idealist in the history of the world. Or, you're already so jaded that you may just have a future in politics.

DRIVE - Movie Review

People often ask me why I hate action movies.

This is, of course, an impossible question. Impossible because it's based on an incorrect assumption. Because, while action movies very rarely make it onto my list of great films, I do still appreciate the genre. In fact, when done well, I downright love the genre. The problem is, when it comes to making action thrillers these day, it just doesn't seem as though they are trying very hard. Computer generated effects do not a great movie make. And the writer by committee approach to most studio action flicks gives a whole new meaning to the time honored phrase "too many cooks in the kitchen." Or maybe the simple fact is that most action directors these days simply just aren't very good.

From the opening frames of Nicolas Winding Refn's new potboiler, "Drive," we know that we've at least avoided that last pitfall.

Methodically and confidently building suspense not through showy effects, but through basic pacing and a sharp (note: not necessarily quick) editing, he announces his intentions early. He's going to tell us a story. He's not going to rush. He's not going to try to bowl us over what he can do with the camera. He's simply going to tell us a story. And he's going to tell it well.

As the 1980's infused pop score plays over the opening credits, we realize this film is throwback in more ways than one. Not simply an homage to Walter Hill's brilliant Ryan O'Neal starrer "The Driver," but a testiment to the crime thriller itself. In a way, this film's roots trace it's inspiration to an even earlier time, the film noir movement of the late 40's and 50's. A genre whose morally ambiguous leading men often found themselves roaming the streets trying to find a way out of a dilemna they themselves have created. Fighting a system they have no hope to actually conquer. In a seemingly inevitable race against time itself.

Like many of those brilliant early works of cinema, "Drive" takes place in the bright and guilty place itself, Los Angeles. But not the Los Angeles of glitterati and movie premieres. Instead, it dwells in the city's lower depths. The places where the bottom feeders and the broken dreamers nurse their afflictions of disappointment at the bottom of a bottle or in the arms of the closest warm body.

It's a Los Angeles, that many Angelenos know too well. For every Hollywood star, there are a thousand would-be's that just never quite made it. For every mansion, there are ten thousands hovels inhabited by those whose expectations have gone from fame and riches to simply trying to make it through the day.

Ryan Gosling's character, known simply as "Driver," exists in such a place. Possessing the natural gifts to take any NASCAR driver in a one-on-one race, he instead uses his talents to shepard around would-be criminals for five minute intervals at a time. Selling his services to the highest bidder, we can imagine a younger version of The Driver who might have one day had much more lofty dreams. As he picks up odd jobs as a stunt man on Hollywood movie sets, we imagine a world where he too could be the leading man instead of simply a human test dummy.

Gosling plays the character with such innate saddness that every small joy is reason for our hearts the cheer. The small smile which creases his face at the innocence of a child. The larger smile gained by the sight of that child's mother, Irene, played by Carey Mulligan (An Education, Never Let Me Go), continuing her streak of characters who, despite my best efforts, I can't help but to fall in love with by the end of their time on screen.

Of course, Irene is living with her own disappointments. A single mother still tethered to a husband in prison. Living in the same shabby dwelling as her Driver neighbor. She deserves a smile too. And for a moment, the two lonely hearts get to have their happiness.

But only for a moment. If these were lives where dreams came true, these two would hardly be living in the situation they are now. If this were a world with easy answers, we'd be living in a different movie. And thank goodness for those viewing this masterwork of tension, we are not.

Instead, Refn weaves a tangled web coiled with intracate characters and memorable moments.

I chuckled for a moment when I realized that under the two leads and a memorable Albert Brooks playing against type as a very bad man who coincidentally is also somewhat connected to the movies, that the cast was basically filled with television all-stars. Bryan Cranston, currently crafting one of TV's most memorable characters on "Breaking Bad" plays The Driver's agent to the underworld and closest friend. Christina Hendricks, the hourglass-figured Joan Holloway from AMC's other Emmy hoarder "Mad Men" plays a pivotal role. Even resurgent Ron Perlman from "Sons of Anarchy" gets to sink his teeth into a meaty role made-to-order. This excellent casts supports a terrific ensemble of leads in a film with simply too many good moments to mention.
Fair warning, it can be brutal. I had to avert my eyes on more than one occasion to avoid being splattered with blood. The Driver doesn't believe in guns. But he's very much at home with blunt force.

Yet unlike the carbon copy action films that role off the Hollywood assembly line, every death in this film comes with consequence. Both for the victim and victor. This is a film where life counts. And while there will naturally be certain moviegoers who simply enjoy the gore, a more refined viewer will see that this callous extinguishing of life is yet another layer of melancoly added to lives which already feel forgotten.

Bravo to Nicolas Winding Refn for crafting a film that not only satisfies the suspense junkie in all of us, but paints a complete portrait of complex characters living the best they can. These are people who already know that happily ever after isn't really an option for them. But to see the one you love smile back at you, even for just a moment, sometimes that's all you can ask for.