Synecdoche, New York (Dir: Charlie Kaufman)

Navel gazing. Self-indulgent. One is tempted to level both criticisms at Charlie Kaufman's directorial debut. But the film doesn't end its gaze at the navel--it keeps burrowing in deeper, past the lint, through the dermis, and into the bowels of the writer/director. And faulting him for self-indulgence is redundant since the film is clearly a journey into the fevered psyche of Kaufman where we are asked to sort out the details. We are invited to Be John Malko--I mean Charlie Kaufman. We have been let off at the 7 1/2th floor and entered the Kaufman door.

Kaufman, of course, scripted "Being John Malkovich" and with "Synecdoche" he revisits some of the same ontological and phenomenological territory. What is the self? How do I perceive myself, others, and the universe? "Malkovich," however, was buoyant, playful, and wacky and closed with a hopeful coda while "Synecdoche" makes a beeline straight for the pain. We will wallow in it with playwright Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman), Kaufman's doppleganger, and live through a lifetime of regret in two hours. The different tones of the two films has to do in part with directors. Spike Jonze brought a light, inventive touch while Kaufman is just as content to let images sit still for contemplation. Even the visual inventiveness, and this film is not in short supply, does not pop and delight. It causes dread and unease.

But this is surely the point. The film begins in a relatively straightforward manner. Cotard is depressed and having difficulties in his marriage to Adele (Catherine Keener). He is anxious about his staging of "Death of a Salesman" and has begun a flirtation with the theater's ticket seller (Emily Mortimer). The film appears to be a normal domestic drama, but as the minutes pass we know something is slightly off. By the time we visit the house that's always on fire, the film has become completely unmoored from reality as we know it and we have to begun to experience the director's existential dread right alongside of him.

The film is endlessly creative but too self-involved to stir most audiences. As with Woody Allen, Kaufman's films appear to be therapy where he works out his issues and neuroses on screen. It has been said that you are everyone in your dreams and Kaufman teases this out in his films to the point where you are also everyone in your waking life and a god as well. It's a solipsistic existence that's finally intensely lonely. The commercial prospects for this were clearly limited. Kaufman breaks free of typical narrative convention and lets his ideas take the lead.

"Synecdoche" is filled with ideas and strong female performers. Catherine Keener, Dianne Weist, Emily Watson, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Samantha Morton, Hope Davis, and Michelle Williams all give fascinating performances. It's exciting to see so many accomplished actresses in challenging roles all in one film. The film follows no predictable pattern and continually surprises. It's a fully realized depiction of dread and longing, but not completely convincing in its convictions.

Watchmen (Dir: Zack Snyder)

Some of "Watchmen" is brilliant. Set in 1985 in a world where Richard Nixon was elected to multiple terms and men and women with super powers helped us win the Vietnam War, the US is on the brink of nuclear war with the Soviets. Those with super powers have not made the world better--we see this in "The Dark Knight" as well--and, in fact, have helped make it worse. In this plot point we see an argument against the still going weapons race--it leads to escalation, increased danger instead of safety--played out onscreen. The development and eventual weaponizing of the the super powerful Dr. Manahattan, able to reconstitute matter at will, raises tensions with the Soviets leading us to the brink of annihilation.

This is the game and stakes as "Watchmen" opens. A costumed hero will be murdered sending the Travis Bickle-like Rorschach into action as he sets out to solve the mystery. Rorshcach sees the world in black and white--mostly black--and he the avenging angel giving no quarter to the "scum" of the city. His investigation leads him to interview other costumed heroes and in this way we witness a host of origin stories and learn the dark secrets of many of the superpowered. Unfortunately, the film telegraphs its villain a little too clearly so then we are only left with trying to discern motive.

Snyder's theme, by way of the Alan Moore novel, seems to be that the superpowered are not heroes and so much ability consolidated into only a few individuals is good for none and leads to the emergence of a fascist class. Snyder seems to be be bringing this theme to the fore as he shows heroes mangle the bodies of the unjust. They burst limbs open and hack into villains with seeming ease and glee. The scenes are repulsive and I'm willing to go along with the director if the harrowing violence is meant to show how depraved these heroes actually are. It's an invigorating, if not pleasant, reimagining of the super hero genre.

But then Snyder tips his hand and it becomes clear that the bloodbath and wallowing in the gore is, as in the ridiculous "300," meant to be violent ballet. And it's not so much the violence that bothers me--I loved Snyder's unsentimental "Dawn of the Dead" remake--but how its inclusion lays waste to all the nuance that has come before. This fact crystallizes in a prison scene where Rorschach, the Silk Spectre, and Nite Owl escape from a prison riot and are clearly having fun as they hack off limbs with power saws and beat enemies to a pulp. The movie then tries to return to profundity, but it is now clear that Snyder's slo-mo, bone crunching is the point of the film. The Moore novel provides Snyder a pretext for heroes beating the snot out of their inferiors.

There is brilliance in the film, however. The opening credit sequence is a wonder as it lays out a dense backstory in just a few minutes. It reminded of DeVito's incendiary opening monologue in "L.A. Confidential." The set decoration and costuming bring the world of the classic novel to life and this is sure to please its most ardent fans. Jackie Earle Haley, unsettling in "Little Children," nails Rorschach and Billy Crudup as the god-man Dr. Manhattan is sufficiently cold and distant. Dr. Manhattan's transformation from man to weapon is tragic and the movie's high point.

So much works in the film, but its stylized violence undercuts its themes. A fascinating misfire not for the squeamish.

Coraline (Dir: Henry Selick)

"Coraline," is a fantastic mix of the traditional and the cutting edge. Utilizing beautiful stop motion animation and presented in 3D, in some theaters, the film offers a time-honored message in a state of the art package. 3D has advanced to the point where it actually serves the story as opposed to being an end unto itself. In the opening credit sequence, we see long, spindly iron fingers above the screen as they construct a button-eyed doll. There is menace in these metallic hands and the three dimensional effect adds to the sense of dread. The hands seem close and capable of reaching out to us. When the characters onscreen stand outside a doorway, the viewers are tempted to lean forward in order to peak into the room. The 3D is effective and enriching.

Coraline (Dakota Fanning), the pre-teen heroine of the film, is moving into an apartment complex in the filled with eccentric neighbors. Her parents both write and leave Coraline feeling alone and neglected. She hates her dad's cooking and misses her old friends. And then she finds a mysterious door in the wall and while playing one evening chases a little mouse through the door and into a mirror universe that looks similar to her own, but seems better. The food is better, the world never boring, and her button-eyed Other Mother and Father give her everything she wants.

The film, based on an excellent novel for children by Neil Gaiman, has a strong message at its heart. "Coraline" posits that hedonism is both empty and dangerous. Also, in order to fully indulge you must become blind to the suffering your pursuits will cause. It's a bit surprising that in a package as cutting edge and fantastic as "Coraline" that we are essentially being presented with a traditional moral warning. The film is not heavy handed, however, and your pre-teens will not quickly pick up on the message. In the context of the film, the message is completely sensible.

The animation on display is excellent, but as the movie showcases its character design and animation set pieces the story loses some momentum. Once Coraline discovers her quest, however, the movie becomes engrossing and tense. In fact, the film's extended climax will likely be too intense for the very young. The voice work is delightful with Terri Hatcher surprising in two roles as Coraline's mother and the film's villain. She is obviously enjoying the role and it enriches the entire experience. Also listen for a cameo by John Linnell of "They Might Be Giants."

The artistry on display is delightful and the film offers a unique animated experience. Go see this one soon, but leave those under five at home.

Fireproof (Dir: Alex Kendrick)

Earnest and well-meaning, "Fireproof" is, nonetheless, not very good. The film is crippled by tepid direction, amateur theater level acting, and a proselytizing endgame. It is important to note, however, that the film was made entirely by volunteers. This does not improve the quality of the movie, but it perhaps helps us to be more forgiving of its flaws. We don't expect The Mercury Theater when we attend the local church's drama night. It's a religious tract on film and by church drama standards, it's "Citizen Kane."

Fireman Caleb Holt (Kirk Cameron) supervises his fire station in a tough, but fair manner. He has earned his co-workers respect, but feels totally disrespected at home by wife Catherine (Erin Bethea). Their marriage is in trouble as their home life has devolved into daily recriminations and petty squabbles. Catherine has also caught the eye of a doctor (Walter Burnett) and the two appear destined for a fling. Caleb's dad, fearing his son's marriage will soon end, presents him with a handwritten book called "The Love Dare" that challenges Caleb to begin acting kindly and selflessly toward his wife.

Caleb never comes across as very sympathetic and this is both, I believe, a function of the script and a sign of Cameron's limited acting ability. He fully commits to anger and frustration and holds that note until a transformation late in the third act. (This is hardly a spoiler if one is aware of the necessities of the genre.) What's problematic is that both his transformation and the hope of reconciliation rest on his returning to the church. Fair enough given what is obviously the film's goal--winning converts--but that this path is the only way to save a troubled marriage is a bit of cop-out. What hope do folks have who are either in church and struggling in their marriages, or do not attend church and have no intention of doing so? The film implies that acting unselfishly--a key to sustaining marriage--cannot occur unless one is a Christian. That's simply not true and immediately limits the effectiveness of the film, if it is, as I believe it wants to be, a tool to save marriages.

And of course the very fact that the film is a tool first and a drama second hinders it from the starting gate. The drama and characters are always on message and so everything's a little too tidy and the marriage difficulties a little too neat and chaste. The directorial choices, particularly lighting and composition, are also safe and workmanlike, sanitizing every moment. The movie's just too safe to create any needed sense of peril. Surprisingly, though, given the film's limited budget, it's two action scenes, while clearly staged, give the film a pulse and generate the movie's only heat. One stunt, involving a train bearing down on the heroes, looked genuinely dangerous.

Too tidy and on message to move any but the converted.