FilmJerk Favorites

A group of unique directors and the essential works that you've got to see.

||| Andrei Tarkovsky |||
Andrei Tarkovsky

Tarkovsky's contemplative, metaphysical films, more experienced than watched, are perhaps best described in the director's own words: sculptures in time.

In the post-apocalypse, a writer and scientist hire a "stalker" to guide them into The Zone, a mysterious and restricted wasteland with fabled, alien properties. Their journey, captured by Tarkovsky as a succession of incredible images, has, since, been read as political commentary, religious allegory, and Chernobyl prophesized.

Tarkovsky's visionary biography of the 15th-century icon painter is one of cinema's most majestic and solemn experiences. In some way, it will change you.

An adaptation of Stanis?aw Lem's novel of the same name, Tarkovsky's genre-less sci-fi film, which is set mostly aboard a space station hovering off a strange planet, tangles with issues of identity, death and reality in a way that will leave you agape, in the full meaning.

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Trust the Man

By BrianOrndorf

September 1st, 2006

I can’t think of better way for Billy Crudup to kill his career than to act like a total moron in Bart Freudlich’s equally as insipid “Trust the Man.” An adult relationship comedy that has a five year-old’s sense of humor, “Man” is a struggle to sit through, and will make you hate Crudup in more ways than previously thought before.

Trust the Man

Tom (David Duchovny) and Rebecca (Julianne Moore) are a married couple stuck in a rut that they can’t break out of. With their marriage trapped under ice, they turn to Rebecca’s brother Tobey (Billy Crudup) and his longtime girlfriend, Elaine (Maggie Gyllenhaal); another pair caught up in the sticky web of resentment. As time ticks away, both couples have to deal with temptation and relationship reality as they try to remind themselves why they fell in love with their partners in the first place.

A more appropriate title for “Trust the Man” would be, “Career Killer.”

Writer/director Bart Freundlich used to be such a keen observer of human behavior. In pictures such as “Myth of Fingerprints” and “World Traveler,” the filmmaker showed curiosity about what makes people tick, and crafted flawed, but still workable movies pursuing these interests.

In 2004, Freundlich went after a new genre with the family adventure film, “Catch That Kid,” and the result was fatigued and showed inability from the director to get excited about his subject. Now, Freundlich falls even further with “Trust the Man.”

“Man” is a Woody Allen rip-off without the bubbling wit, ace cast, or technical expertise. It’s a dreary, uninspired New York City romp through the pitfalls of marriage and the ties that bind. Freundlich is going after so much with his story, he can hardly keep up. He wants “Man” to be a silly comedy, an incisive look at drained relationships, and a tour guide to the more recognizable corners of New York (look everyone its Serendipity…again). I wish I could give the filmmaker the benefit of the doubt and mention that his heart was in the right place; however, “Man” is a misfire of epic proportions, and it’s stunning that a man who has been directing for nearly 10 years would create something this sloppy and hostile to the funny bone.

The screenplay is broken into a million little bits and pieces, and Freundlich eventually ignores them all. Had the film been conceived as a series of vignettes about the hopelessly in love, it would be more forgivable that the director leaves so many storylines hanging in the air by the end of the film. But Freundlich really wants to capture a bigger story here, and it never gets off the ground. Little off ramps such as Elaine’s children’s book aspirations and run in with a lesbian editor (Ellen Barkin), or Tobey’s forward former lover (Eva Mendes) are left to twist in the wind along with 20 other subplots and ideas.

Your head will hurt more to consider that Freundlich pushed these threads aside to make room for his own display of flatulence jokes, a couple of crotch wallops, and not one, but two uses of the spit-take. And here I thought an adult was making this movie.

Even worse than the slapstick is Billy Crudup, putting in perhaps the worst performance of his career. Freundlich wants a portrait of the non-committal man at play, but Crudup tends to act like he’s in “Scary Movie 5,” and every new scene with him makes you want to grind your teeth to pebbles. Maggie Gyllenhaal is nearly as dreadful, but she at least understands the power of performance volume. Better is David Duchovny and Julianne Moore, who have a natural rapport and easily the more involving storyline. They make the film at least tolerable, but that’s being kind to a film that doesn’t return the favor.

My rating: D