Now With More Than 3000 Reviews! Go Nuts - Read 'Em All!!

WELCOME! Use the search engines on this site (or your own off-site engine of choice) to gain easy access to the complete MAKSQUIBS Archive; over 2500 posts and counting. (New posts added every day or so.)

You can check on all our titles by typing the Title, Director, Actor or 'Keyword' of your choice in the Search Engine of your choice (include the phrase MAKSQUIBS) or just use the BLOGGER Search Box at the top left corner of the page.

Feel free to place comments directly on any of the film posts and to test your film knowledge with the CONTESTS scattered here & there. (Hey! No Googling allowed. They're pretty easy.)

Send E-mails to MAKSQUIBS@yahoo.com . (Let us know if the TRANSLATE WIDGET works!) Or use the Profile Page or Comments link for contact.

Thanks for stopping by.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

BIUTIFUL (2010)

After three projects joined at the hip, scripter Guiilermo Arriago & helmer Alejandro Gonzáles Iñárritu went their separate (slightly embittered) ways. The films had been both admired & detracted for their elaborately interlaced storylines that casually (or should that read causally?) ricocheted off each other. And while it’s quite a trick to keep so many storylines going at once, it’s even harder to make do with one. Now, working on his own, Iñárritu tries just that, aiming for a bit more depth as he follows the rapid decline of Javier Bardem’s all-around merchandise hustler. But Iñárritu overcompensates, stuffing his sole leading character with the baggage of twenty, as if incident equalled drama, narrative simple arithmetic. He was smart to get Javier Bardem, few actors other than Cate Blanchette ‘take’ light so dramatically. But what a load the guy hauls! Separated from a bi-polar wife; saddled with two troubled pre-teens; keeping rein on a crew of irresponsible Senegalese illegal immigrant hustlers; plus a warehouse of Chinese illegals; even a score of dead immigrants! And there's protection pay-outs to impotent cops; a brother who runs a sex club & fools around with your crazy ex; a father Bardem never met, but gets to rebury . . . oh, and a touch of terminal cancer leaving you a month or so to live. Iñárritu handles much of this stylishly, though the fussy color palette grows tiresome, especially at a self-indulgent two & a half hours. By then, the seams are showing and sympathy is lagging. Still, it’s nice to know that when you get to heaven your hair looks great, you get to smoke and there’s Ravel on the soundtrack.

No comments: