r,s,t,u,V,w,x,y,z

A tender moment between Maurice (a now delicately wanton Peter O'Toole) and Jessie (Jodie Whittaker), his self-styled "Venus."

Less than two hours, and counting--better get my two bits in:

Flanked by a cast that includes Harry Potter's own Leslie Phillips; The History Boys' Richard Griffiths; and Vanessa Redgrave, Peter O'Toole, The Man of My Dreams since my childhood days, proves, yet again, that the older the vintage, the more supple, the softer, the more nuanced, the more exquisitely balanced...(please forgive my extended use of skill sets in the above, but this is my idol I'm talking about) is the wine. As in 1982's My Favorite Year, O'Toole is--well, playing himself, albeit an older, more supple, softer (enough, already). As Maurice, an aging and highly respected actor, he's still a charming roue, who can still tip the bottle; who still admires the ladies. This time, he focuses his attention on a twenty something (if she's that old) young woman, Jessie (Jodie Whittaker), whom he nicknames, "Venus." Yes: this is a reinterpretation of the ages-old Pygmalion story, but it is modern--it is hip, with even all the right songs that your not quite as aging critic doesn't really know the names of. And, yes: he's ageless (and yet...). Phillips and Griffiths play off their venerated chum as if no one had to rehearse a scene, and O'Toole and Redgrave plain don't have to act (they've known each other for decades, I'm sure). And I'm sure that Whittaker will never forget the chance of a lifetime she was handed, to have toddled on the lap of The Lion In Winter. This performance has been hailed a tour de force for O'Toole: I can think of many other times, beginning with forty-odd years ago, when, even as a child, he mesmerized me. What's missing from his mantel is the Best Actor Oscar, earned in his own right. Ninina is hoping; and wishing--at the very least, can't the Academy split the statuette in half, or, or??? Something tells me that Forest Whitaker wouldn't, in the long run, mind...
"Esta aqui mi madre?" Perhaps Raimunda (Penelope Cruz) is asking herself in the opening graveside scene in Pedro Almodovar's "Volver."

These are not "normal" Ninina reviews. That's all right: I'm allowed. I should probably write the following en espanol, pero...Penelope Cruz is back in her element; directed by the great Almodovar, for whom she serves as a Muse. It's not every day you can set your wrongs right; it's not every day you can become aware of the twists and turns that'll steer you in the right direction. I have read that this tale of twisted love, forgiveness, and redemption, has autobiographical elements for Almodovar: if that is so, he has opened up the gate to his soul in front of us. As in All About My Mother, he's funny; he's serious; he's funny; and back again. He's so...Spanish: "the Spanish melancholy," I described it to a more serious-minded Latina than myself. She agreed in an instant. The scene at the wake for the Tia Paula grabbed me the most: kisses; kisses, everywhere. On both cheeks, of course. Almodovar is fond of ensemble casts, with one star shining through, just a little more brightly, but not to the detriment of the others. That is how he deals with Penelope Cruz (Raimunda): you can almost hear him gently nudging her, coaxing her: a bit here; a bit there. Their camaraderie--yes, their chemistry--is evident. It is also there with Carmen Maura, who plays Irene, her "ghost" of a mother; with
Lola Duenas (Sole), her sister: it plain tickled me, how espanola she was!; with Blanca Portillo, in her poignant role as the family friend, Agustina; and, indeed, with Yohana Cobo, who, as Raimunda's daughter, Paula, is inadvertently aware of her family's tale on the fringes of her existence. Almodovar both wrote and directed Volver. I still remember how excited he was when All About My Mother won the 1999 Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film. If Penelope wins this year--she's up for Best Actress--will he be as equally thrilled? Claro que si!

I told you these were not "normal" Ninina reviews...(Written Sunday, 2/25/07.)

One Week from Tonight...

Pan's Labyrinth will be up for six Oscars: for best art direction; for best cinematography; for best makeup; for best original score; for best original screenplay; and for best foreign language film.

Guillermo del Toro--along with two other esteemed colleagues from his native Mexico: Alfonso Cuaron (Children of Men); and Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (Babel)--have produced three of 2006's cinematic treasures. Although they're competing against each other in several categories, Pan's Labyrinth is the one that made it to the Best Foreign Language Film category, as it is conducted entirely in Spanish. In Spanish; in Spain, 1944 Spain, at that...

I must digress. By the time my father got my mother out of Vichy France in late fall of 1940, a number of their friends and colleagues had gone to Spain--and some had died--for the Republican cause. The moment I saw that the backdrop of the movie entailed the early years of Franco's regime--with the vestigial remains of "los republicanos" still hiding out in the hills--I was hooked. I thought of the kind pension owner in Madrid, who'd shrugged his shoulders and told my mother not to worry, when her coat had accidentally brushed by a vase situated on a table and had knocked it down.

Let me return to Pan, here. Already engrossed more than the norm, here comes a little girl, Ofelia--subtly, delicately, yet forcefully--played by an age-appropriate young actress, Ivana Baquero. A little girl, alone with her books, more painfully aware of her surroundings than she's letting on. She's on her way with her very enceinte mother to meet her new stepfather, one of Franco's Captains. As portrayed by Sergi Lopez, el Capitan Vidal is a self-absorbed, crueler than cruel, monster. This, quite frankly, is not what I was prepared for, and what made even grown people grimace in the theater, especially the second time I saw it. I hadn't averted my eyes the first time, though.

Ofelia: let me return to Ofelia. The trailer had given her an almost Alice In Wonderland feel, down to the smock-covered dress. That's what I'd thought I'd been in for: Alice. And, indeed, in a combination of Alice In Wonderland, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Peter Pan, the Wizard of Oz, and Grimm's Fairy Tales, Ofelia proceeds to speak with fantastical creatures; to open doors where there were none a moment earlier; to disobey and have to deal with the consequences--in effect, to be the entranced child she reads about in her fairy tales. She has no choice, for the reality of her enforced existence is more than she can bear. And, true heroine that she is...

My first thought, before I'd even seen it the first time through, was that this movie is "ethereal in its simplicity."

This is a marvel of a movie. Guillermo del Toro both directed and wrote the screenplay. What will happen next Sunday is anyone's guess, but my money's on at least four out of the six.

Need I say that Ninina needs four popcorn boxes, a piece of chalk, a smock, and red slippers?

Post-Oscar Monday: well, we won three: Best Art Direction; Best Cinematography; and Best Makeup. It should have been all six--it's a real shame that the Academy did not--could not--did not want to--realize that this is one of the very best and most original movies that's come along in a long time, irrespective of language and country of origin...Felicidades, Guillermo!