. . . in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with

Golly, what a lot of downtown openings of well-reviewed films NH3

A gorgeous day today--as I like to say, far too nice a day to be outside. Good thing, though, that this glut of attractive prospects came on a Mets-away weekend. I couldn't have fit 5 films & a trip to Flushing.

Boy

Crit

Never have I been so happy to have lived and to have had access to MTV during the reign of the King of Pop. Michael Jackson and E.T. establish the era and contribute much of the idiom of this slice of assimilated Maori life, but for all the allusion and borrowing, this is one of the most original films I expect to see this year.

The titular Boy--actually Alamein, the third generation of males to bear the name, ostensibly appropriated by his great-grandfather, who fought in the battle--provides much of the care for his brother Rocky and assorted cousins. His mother is dead, his father in prison for a robbery--until he appears, midway through the film, to provide a warped role model and another child to parent.

If there’s any complaint to be made about the film, it’s that the story suggests much uglier turns than ever materialize, but Boy deserves gentle treatment, and so does Boy.

Rampart

Crit

How many times have we seen the good/dirty cop story? How many times have we seen the good/dirty racist, homophobic, sexist, womanizing-cop-who-nonetheless-loves-his-daughters story? How many times have we seen the good/dirty LAPD-cop-at-war-with-both-the-bad-guys-and-the-brass story? How many times have we seen the good/dirty cop-whose-two-ex-wives (sisters)-live-next-door-to-each-other, each-with-one-of-his-daughters story? OK, that, maybe not so much.

My point is, this is not virgin narrative territory, and it requires a special performance to make it special, and an amazing, mindblowing performance to make it something that will haunt you for a long time, and I fear I’ll be seeing Woody Harrelson in some very bad upcoming dreams, some of which may take place when I’m not technically asleep, though always when it’s unremittingly dark.

A beautiful ugly film.

The Deep Blue Sea

Crit

OK, in 1952, when Terence Rattigan's play premiered, it was still possible to be surprised to learn that women can be as immoderately besotted with sex as men can, but in 2012? Rachel Weisz does what she can with it, and she continues to become more beautiful with every appearance, but I just don't get this.