1995: Year in Review

Here's a rise-and-fall tale with all the power and poignancy of an R-rated After School Special. Jim Carroll (Leonardo DiCaprio) "had it all": he was an up-and-coming star on his Catholic high school's basketball team, a potential All-American; he had a propensity for writing flowery poetry and prose about his angst-ridden young existence, sometimes with a certain gutter honesty ("Time flies when you're young and jerkin off"); he had a working mother (Lorraine Bracco) who cared for him, and a tough black playground opponent (Ernie Hudson) who tried to keep him on track. Of course, there were the bad things too: His basketball coach Swifty (Bruno Kirby) would not-so-subtly hit on him, and even propositions him down the line, and Jim also hung out with the wrong crowd: Pedro (James Madio), the short goofy would-be thief who enjoyed the company of the "in-crowd"; Neutron (Patrick McGaw), who turned out to be the conscience of the group and was smart enough to get out when he still could; and Mickey (Mark Wahlberg), a mad-dog with a viciously violent streak in him who never knew when to quit. His best friend Bobby (Michael Imperioli) was dying of leukemia, and Jim decides to take him to a peep show to "make him feel better." Then there was the neighborhood skank Diane (Juliette Lewis), whose obvious drug addiction should've been a harbinger of things to come. In a savage bit of irony, it was Jim's visit to a couple of Neutron's hooker friends (with the improbable work names of Winky and Blinky) that resulted in Jim's first taste of cocaine. He's hooked seemingly right away and it's not long before the narration shifts to right-to-the-point gut punch lines like "Did I ever tell you about the first time I did heroin?" Heroin becomes Jim's drug of choice, and it's not long before he's trying to play through games high, living on the street, robbing old women and candy stores, and turning tricks in subway bathroom stalls; it seems it took actually living the gutter lifestyle before Jim's poetry could have the ring of truth. Jim Caroll kept all of these thoughts, poems and experiences in an ongoing diary published in 1978. The film, directed by Scott Kalvert and adapted by Bryan Goluboff, is long on style but short on poignancy. Kalvert, a music video veteran, has made a directorial debut that takes the ugliness of heroin addiction, withdrawal, and living on Skid Row and tries to turn it into a music video-esque collage of horror and visual poetry: There was some controversy over a particularly offensive fantasy sequence in which Jim goes into his classroom, decked out in black leather, and blows away his fellow students with a big shotgun, mostly in slow motion and Dutch angles, his friends laughing the whole time. Similarly, after Bobby's death, we get a montage-like sequence of Jim and friends horsing around in the rain, playing basketball, and just generally spouting angst all set to the ghoulishly upbeat punk song "People Who Died," written and performed by the actual Jim Caroll. Is the message, it's all fun and games till somebody gets hurt? Great. What else? That's the general problem; the material is there but the treatment is off. Until I learned that Caroll in fact survived and turned his life around, becoming a published poet and author, as well as a successful musician, I found this film increasingly exploitative and offensive in its depiction of the "ugly truth" of the downtrodden; it seemed like it was trying to make the ugliness look pretty. That's not to say that the film doesn't have its moments; a scene with a shrieking Jim begging his mother (Bracco) for cash through the apartment door is particularly gut-wrenching. Indeed, the performances in general cannot be faulted. DiCaprio is good at playing essentially a whiny little kid who wants to grow up too fast because he thinks he's deeper and wiser than he is, and his supporting cast does what they can with underwritten and/or overplayed material. Ultimately, this is simply a case of style in place of substance; a near-total misfire.

Tony Scott's submarine thriller is deeper than it at first appears, smarter than it has any right to be, very well-made and, thus, perhaps more riveting than we expect. Gene Hackman is Captain Frank Ramsey, a grizzled old man perpetually flanked by his small, vicious pet dog, who is nearing the end of his days as commander of the U.S. nuclear submarine Alabama, which is about to bear witness to a change in weather, if you will. As the film opens, Lt. Commander Ron Hunter (Denzel Washington) is named the new second in command and it seems almost inevitable from the outset that these two will have a major difference of opinion. Indeed, the Alabama is sent to what may become the front-lines when a coded message is received: it appears that rebel Russian forces have seized some nuclear missile silos and are preparing for war. Ramsey and Hunter will soon be competing for control of the submarine, not because of macho posturing or the need to prove themselves, but because they have a severe difference in ideological beliefs, even if their intentions are the same. Ramsey is an aging old war-horse who is fully prepared, perhaps even thirsty, for battle while Hunter believes "in the nuclear world the true enemy is war itself." The difference of philosophy between these two men is at this film's center, and is far more fascinating than all the action and all the tension that the filmmakers could possibly muster, no matter how well-done. This being said, the film is, indeed, very well-made by director Tony Scott ("Top Gun," "True Romance"), a superb visual stylist who manages to be both over-the-top and melodramatic while also appearing to make uncannily appropriate visual choices throughout: dutch-angles, the use of lurid blue, green and red lighting, and hand-held whooshing pans are just a few reccurring moteifs. He manages to wring tension and a heightened sense of realism from a potentially unrealistic scenario. He may be taking his cues from the screenplay by Michael Schiffer, which is more engaging than we expect thanks to its concern with the characters, their moral integrity, and the fundamental difference between their two philosophies when it comes to the kind of conflict which may be about to erupt. He fills his cast with terrific supporting characters, some of whom are distinct if archetypal and simplistic (such as James Gandolfini and Matt Craven as fierce loyalists who side with long-time superior Hackman when the going gets rough, as well as Viggo Mortensen as a longtime colleague of Denzel Washington who becomes conflicted). I particularly liked veteran character actor George Dzundza as Cob, Chief of the Boat, who survives by his instincts - which tell him who to side with, not out of loyalty or lack thereof but out of desire to do the right thing. In the end, this is about a conflict between two men and their ideological modes of thinking, who are thrust head-first into a tough situation and forced to deal with their differences to the best of their ability while the world goes mad around them. As such, it's kind of wonderful.

NOTE: Nominated for 3 Oscars including Editing, Sound and Sound Effects Editing.

Tim Robbins' film ennobles filmmaking with its dramatization of the relationship between a nun and a Louisiana prison inmate who asks for her help and, with it, seeks salvation. Susan Sarandon stars as Sister Helen Prejean, a nun whose assistance is requested by Matthew Poncelot (Sean Penn), an inmate in Angola State Prison in Louisiana, awaiting execution for the rape of a young woman and murder of her and her boyfriend. Prejean, as appalled as she is by Poncelot, nevertheless takes his case to try to advocate for a stay of execution, but is ultimately his spiritual advisor. Tim Robbins' film is the follow-up to his much-different Hollywood satire/mockumentary "Bob Roberts" (1992), and is a massive step-up. Robbins, who wrote and directed, based on Prejean's autobiographical book, paints a powerful portrait of a relationship between a spiritual woman and a man who is guilty of wickedness, but who is willing to repent if it means the redemption of his soul. It happens to take my personal idealogical view - to hate the "sin" but love the "sinner." Essentially, even he who commits the most vile act must be allowed to redeem himself in your eyes and (if not be forgiven) at least be accepted as a human being. The cinematography by Roger Deakins is solid and wonderful, particularly in the prison, where compositions actually make the characters physically closer as they become spiritually closer as the film goes on; notice how at one point a scene is done entirely with one character in the two-way glass and the other reflected alongside them, back and forth. Penn and Sarandon's performances are astonishing in their empathy; they get deep into the skins of their characters. This film avoids so many pitfalls of typical Hollywood conventions, instead opting for the emotionally truthful. The result is one of the more moving and amazing film experiences of the decade.

The Hughes Brothers' sophomore effort is a well-made mess: It seems to want to be first a coming of age story, then a Vietnam War picture, wrapping up in lurid crime melodrama fashion, and since it never seems to stay in one place for very long, we feel the whiplash effect. Anthony Curtis (Larenz Tate) is a smart, promising 18-year-old young man living with successful parents (James Pickens Jr. and Jenifer Lewis) in the Bronx in 1968. He works as a milk man as his brother (Isaiah Washington, uncredited) is going to college. Anthony doesn't see the virtue of going directly to college, wanting seemingly to "pursue his options" by enlisting in the Marines, much to his well-off family's chagrin. Anthony is surrounded by bad influences, however, from the one-legged pool hall operator turned criminal mentor Kirby (Keith David) to the insane pool hustler known as Cowboy (Terrence Dashon Howard). He's also surrounded by the troubled natures of his peers, including Jose (Freddy Rodriguez), who seems fairly harmless, and the aspiring pimp turned junkie Skip (Chris Tucker), who joins Anthony in Vietnam. There is also the potential for love in Anthony's life, embodied by Juanita (Rose Jackson), with whom he makes love for the first time on graduation night before shipping off to fight in the war; he gets her pregnant immediately. The middle section of the film then shifts from the convincing details of every-day African-American life in 60s America to yet another fairly pale version of a Vietnam movie. In Vietnam, Skip and Anthony work alongside a deeply disturbed sociopath named Cleon (Bokeem Woodbine), who kills with impunity, even severing an enemy's head and carrying it around, stinking from rot, for "good luck." This is one of the less interesting sections of the film, which feels ill-fitting in the end. After surviving the atrocities of Vietnam, Anthony returns home to his family's loving embrace, the warm reception of his former co-horts (even the cantankerous Cowboy) and, of course, to Juanita and his (now) 4-year-old daughter. It's at this point, during what could've been its most involving material, that I fear it goes off the rails. Anthony, you see, is drawn by Juanita's sister Delilah (N'Bushe Wright) into some sort of seemingly Black Panther-inspired "revolution." That in and of itself could've led to an intriguing finish, but Delilah manages to rope Anthony and his pals into a robbery of a U.S. Treasury Truck, leading to a violent shootout. I'm not really sure how the robbery of a U.S. Treasury Truck equals anti-Vietnam, anti-government revolution of the sort that was becoming common in the 60s. The film, directed and co-written by Albert and Allen Hughes, comes from a screenplay by Michael Henry Brown. The Hughes Brothers, twins as it turns out, first burst onto the scene straight outta southern California (via Detroit) at age 21 with the great crime melodrama "Menace II Society" (1993), a uniquely perceptive slice of urban life. The early sequences and the final third of this movie have some of that film's qualities, without the sheer raw power. The Hughes Brothers have made great strides stylistically, even stealing a page from Spike Lee's book (more accurately, a trademark shot that they give their own spin). If the film isn't perfect, it shows that the Hughes' are real filmmakers, and it keeps us riding right along with it as it goes flying off the deep end. And that's something.

NOTE: The judge appearing late in the film is an uncredited Martin Sheen.

Ang Lee's sparkling adaptation of the classic Jane Austen novel is a delightful, dazzling, luscious portrait of passion reigning supreme among the proper British upper-crust. Henry Dashwood (Tom Wilkinson in a brief cameo) dies, leaving his second wife and a trio of daughters near destitute and forced to live in a cottage supplied by a relative. There is Marianne (Kate Winslet), the young and passionate middle child who dreams of romance worth dying for - "like Romeo & Juliet" who knows Shakespeare's sonnets by heart and can play a mean piano forte and Elinor (Emma Thompson), the wise, thoughtful and reserved one who has yet to find a husband. It becomes imperative to marry in order to survive, and three potential sutors (Hugh Grant, Alan Rickman and Greg Wise) soon come to call. The film was directed by Ang Lee ("Eat Drink Man Woman") and the screenplay is by Emma Thompson, who keeps the spirit of Austen's novel in tact. Lee might seem like an unlikely choice to direct a romantic dramedy by the likes of Jane Austen, but the results here are impeccable. The film is a glorious physical production and a delightful charmer to boot. The cast is uniformly excellent. A smart, funny, wonderful romantic comedy.

Bryan Singer's film is a neo-noir-ish heist thriller with modern sensibilities, a darkly comedic jigsaw puzzle, a complex, involving and unnerving labyrinth in which you can find yourself lost, potentially cheated by a twist ending, and still come out entertained. The film opens with a mysterious, shadowy figure descending some stairs on a dock in San Pedro and apparently shooting a man head-on with a gun. Flash forward and it appears that on that very dock that night, 26 men died for $91 million dollars worth of dope that was never found. There is a police inquiry involving a too clever by half, crippled thief named Verbal Kint (Kevin Spacey). He is telling cops about his four fellow "notorious" colleagues and the truck loaded with stripped gun parts, the disappearance of which outside of Queens first led to them appearing in the same lineup. His partners in crime are McManus (Stephen Baldwin), a wild-eyed and unpredictable marksman; Hockney (Kevin Pollack), a wise-ass low level thug working in a garage; Fenster (Benicio Del Toro), an old friend of McManus who nobody can understand through his bizarrely thick accent; and Dean Keaton (Gabriel Byrne), an Irish alleged criminal turned businessman who has become the Jean Valjean (or Moby Dick) to Detective Kujan's (Chazz Palminteri) Inspector Javert (or Ahab). Kujan has pursued Dean Keaton to this very day, convinced that he is still a crook. He may be right, as it appears that Verbal and his four comrades in illegality banded together after the lineup for first one job, then another, managing to form quite a little team of thieves. Soon, a mystery begins to rear its ugly head. Seems that Verbal and his team were approached by a lawyer named Kobayashi (Pete Postlethwaite) and he represented one Keyser Soze, a mysterious and shadowy underworld figure with the reputation of a "psycho f---ed up butcher." Who is Keyser Soze? That's the question at the center of this remarkable sophomore feature by director Bryan Singer and writer Christopher McQuarrie. They first teamed up for the little seen independent thriller "Public Access" (1993). Together, they have crafted an intense, deeply involving and hypnotic thriller with rich and original takes on familiar archetypal characters, hip Tarantinoan dialogue, and a plot which may pull one too many rugs out from under itself in the end, but you still can't deny you were entertained. The performances manage to embody what the characters represent while remaining fiercely original, unique and memorable. Kevin Spacey is great as Verbal, the "Man with the Plan" who guides us through the labyrinthine plot to the best of his ability; remarkably, we are never lost when we're in his hands. Byrne is great as the proverbial crooked guy gone straight, nevertheless remaining the passionate pursuit of his cop adversary. I also greatly enjoyed supporting work from Benicio Del Toro, Peter Greene, Kevin Pollack, Stephen Baldwin, Giancarlo Esposito, Pete Postlethwaite and Dan Hedaya. They are all spot-on in their portrayals of characters who live in a sort of heightened reality version of an underworld. The plot is a complex, absorbing maze with Verbal as our guide, and if at the end our hands close on (somewhat) empty air - hey, at least you had fun. One of the year's best films.