Lifestyles of the rich and the famous

Rating: Null/10 (2 February 2015)

One of the more darker dramas out locally this weekend, the first question I had when the projector began rolling is, 'why one more in 1.85:1'? What's up with Bennett Miller, who's used this aspect ratio for his movie post-Moneyball, which was filmed in glorious 2.35:1?
Anyway, that became a minor nit to pick as the movie unfolded, and sucked me in.
Steve Carell, moving away from his typical schtick (he has tried before, and was good in the likes of 'Little Miss Sunshine' and 'Seeking a friend for the end of the world' and the like) once again, sinks into his role of John 'Eagle' Du Pont with gusto, making us audience-members just fall shy of closing our eyes whenever his reprehensible characters proceeds to make everyone else uncomfortable on-screen. He comes alive like very few do, and makes us question his existence in the scheme of things.
This has to be the most work done by a young actor like Tatum, that we can see all his hard work translated to the big screen. His every wrestling move, spar and training setup, along with his pent-up feelings are they for us to see, and appreciate.
This is a movie of performances, and the spot-on casting brings them all to life. Mark Ruffalo, on the other hand (as compared to both Carell and Tatum) is perhaps the most seasoned of this bunch, and boy does it show! He comprehensively inhabits the character of the caring elder brother to Channing Tatum's younger 'un, and the kindness, knowledge, understanding and genuine compassion in his eyes is more than any line the screenplay could have had for this actor. This is a complete performance, not just nomination-worthy, but perhaps deserving of a win.
To the plot then: to me, the movie was more about how the privileged, who take everything and everyone for granted, deciding to own another slice of life for their own agenda, and end up taking something precious, something fragile, treating them diffidently and even tenderly for as long as it suited them, and then deciding, even unconsciously/inadvertently, prompted by their more misguided baser emotions, to completely destroy that which they treasured, and finally wondering what went wrong (not even what they did wrong). That's how it plays out, and watching it unfold is nothing short of fascinating, a little more to me than most, due to certain life experiences that hold a very nice mirror to the events unfolding like a juggernaut.
However, I (predominantly) hate biopics. There is no fascination in me to watch something that I've read about somewhere. But I do watch them most of the time, since there are elements that I find fascinating, and it's almost like (even for many others I know) the fascination inherent in watching a trainwreck (nothing to do with the negative connotation there). 127 hours, for example. J Edgar (I know I'm in a minority for that one) being another. Lincoln, and perhaps a few others like Zodiac etc.. Ah, Kill the Messenger was another, and this movie shares something in common with that one, especially the period look-and-feel.
I love it when filmmakers subvert our expectations, like Tarantino did with 'Inglourious Basterds', essentially rewriting history. Fat chance on that happening with this work, but, only for me, due to whatever reason, this happened. Listen closely:
Going in to this viewing, I thought I knew how the story ended, and for me it was all a question of how the characters found themselves at that particular precipice from the moment it began, to when there was a snack break and it began again. Imagine my surprise when I found that I had it all wrong. The main event that eventually takes place, did not happen to one of the key characters I thought it would happen to, but to another key character. And....you could've knocked me down flat. I was like, whaaaaaa....? And I'd thought I knew how it was gonna end. Goes to show. Apparently, from many other accounts, I wasn't the only one who'd got my facts wrong. So, inadvertently, those others and me ended up having a more profound experience for sure, than all those others who knows how it ends in this one.
Pity there wasn't more Anne Bancroft, though the 2 scenes she's in, you could hear a pin drop at the multiplex that I watched this in.
All in all, a wonderful watch at the cinema, barring the crapfest they had with the subtitles, which were at least 90 seconds ahead of the scene taking place. Bad form, cinema! Bad form, projectionists-who-don't-care-enough-to-stay-throughout-the-viewing. Try requesting the staff to keep those pesky sub-titles off for the viewing, if you care as much.