Hit Me With Your Best Shot - Atonement

Written as part of the Hit Me With Your Best Shot series hosted by Nathaniel at The Film Experience.

Watching Joe Wright's Atonement for the first time since seeing it in theaters in 2007 - and for the first time since reading Ian McEwan's novel - what impressed me most was how effortless everything felt. For all its formal rigor - it is as meticulous and careful as Briony Tallis's signature stiff walk - everything flows so elegantly, and feels as easy-breezy-beautiful as Keira Knightley smoking a cigarette.

But the film runs so much deeper than that, at every possible level. Jacqueline Durran's costumes (even beyond THAT stunner of a dress). Dario Marianelli's note-perfect score. Christopher Hampton's smart screenplay. Seamus McGarvey's lighting, framing, and camera movement. It's nearly impossible to believe that this was somehow considered an also-ran in the awards race in its year ("awards bait" MY. ASS. A well-made film is a well-made film).

As strong as the film is, though (that Dunkirk sequence, even beyond the justly famed long tracking shot, is just jaw-dropping), I always felt at a remove from it, something that was perhaps necessitated by the very literary coup de grâce which ends the novel, which is nearly impossible to translate to film.

I say "nearly", because the film has an ace up its sleeve in Vanessa Redgrave's performance. Hampton finds probably the only way to make that ending work on film, but even still the whole thing rests on Redgrave's shoulders, and sturdier shoulders you simply will not find, no matter where you look. Without her, the movie falls flat on its ass.

But even then, she's given an incredibly solid base to work with thanks to Saiorse Ronan's smart, exquisitely directed performance. The film's first third is its best, largely because of how effectively Wright and McGarvey are able to frame everything simultaneously from a child's point of view AND the point of view of the adults whose actions she cannot help but wrongly interpret. Well, not actually simultaneously, but you understand what I mean. They allow us to get inside of the heads of people on both sides of the story almost infuriatingly well. Like in my best shot:

The first time we see it, it's incredibly easy to see it as Briony does, even though we're able to figure out what is really going on quite easily. And then, we rewind to see what happened from Cecilia and Robbie's perspective, and it's almost too hot for its own good. Seriously. This scene should be studied, WILL BE studied for ages as a master class in how to shoot, cut, and score a sex scene. The whole thing is bloody well perfect, putting over exactly the hot, breathy rush of secret, almost-public sex. But this one shot feels forbidden in a way that is almost scary, with the way he has her pinned with her legs spread, and the way one of her hands is gripping his hair but the other is wide open in his clutches. It is simple but complex, it's absolutely gorgeous to look at, it works on multiple levels - it is a perfect example of everything the film does so elegantly, effortlessly well.

I'm also pleased to say the film works much better for me now than it did back when I first saw it. And I almost picked this shot as Best, just because of how stunningly composed it is:

Thursday Movie Picks: Movies That Feature An Irreparable Mistake

I found this blogathon at Wandering Through the Shelves this weekend and thought it would be a good place to begin my 2015 blogging resolution (basically: Write More, Dammit!). It's easy and fun: Each week, pick three movies that relate to the stated theme. Last week was films featuring a bank robbery (for what it's worth, I would have chosen the French classic Rififi, the recent nutso Now You See Me, and The Italian Job, both versions of which have their strengths). This week, the theme is the more difficult-to-define Movies that feature an Irreparable Mistake. My first pick was easy, my second pick I had to think about a bit, and the third is kind of out there but stands out for a number of different reasons.

1. Atonement (Joe Wright, 2007) It's right there in the title, isn't it? The whole film is about atoning for an irreparable mistake. This is probably a film that should never have been made, considering that Ian McEwan's lovely, lyrical source novel exists solely because of its very literary coup de grace of an ending - something which, while translated fairly well by director Wright and screenwriter Christopher Hampton, doesn't have quite the impact onscreen that it does in the novel's pages. In fact, what strength it does have is almost solely contained in Vanessa Redgrave's master class of a performance, which packs an entire history into maybe five minutes of screentime. But this is still a gorgeous film to behold - especially its first third (Saoirse Ronan's eyes! That green dress!) - and it contains one of cinema's great tracking shots (the stunning, devastating Dunkirk sequence). If it feels a bit at a remove, then that's almost by necessity, given the conceit of the film's ending. But this is a film that has only grown in my estimation in memory and on rewatch, one defined by passion - whether for another person or for righting one's own wrong.

2. I Know What You Did Last Summer (Jim Gillespie, 1997) I have a theory that pretty much any good horror film features an Irreparable Mistake, whether offscreen before the film begins (think Freddy Kruger's backstory in A Nightmare on Elm Street), or as the inciting incident, as it is here. Usually, the Irreparable Mistake is not leaving the damn haunted house, or not calling for help, or leaving your door unlocked, or something similarly stupid. But here, it's a decision of some actual weight: Four idiot teenagers accidentally hit a guy with their car and then dispose of the body (quite poorly, as it turns out). It's not quite as good as screenwriter Kevin Williamson's prior hit Scream, possibly because it doesn't have slasher master Wes Craven in the director's chair, but it has a killer premise and is still fun, and quite the nostalgia trip for anyone who was a teen in the '90s (like me).

3. Audition (Takashi Miike, 1999) I have been trying to think of a way to describe Audition without giving it away ever since I first saw it, mostly because it has such a genius structure and build-up. I think that this is the PERFECT way to do so. The plot is thus: Shigeharu Aoyama is a lonely widower living in Japan. His television producer friend suggests he hold a fake audition for a movie in order to find a new wife, since he has trouble approaching women. I'm not sure that the audition itself is the Irreparable Mistake. I would say that comes a bit later, after Aoyama becomes attracted to the beautiful former ballerina Asami. Like the other two films listed here (this was not intentional), Audition is based on a novel, and is an intriguing exploration of gender roles in modern-day Japan, and any lover of movies should see it (and I say that as someone who usually does not like this kind of movie). Don't read anything about it, don't look it up on IMDB, avoid looking at any posters or DVD covers if you can. Just type the title into Netflix and click play. That's all I'm going to say.