The Human Stain

In the midst of the 1998 Lewinsky sex scandal, Coleman Silk (Anthony Hopkins), a distinguished classics professor at a small Massachusetts liberal arts college, embroils himself in a microcosm of similar scandal and tragedy: one chance comment in class provokes an accusation of racism that culminates in his resignation and the death of his wife. Based on the novel by Philip Roth, The Human Stain follows Silk through four major stages of self-identification: anger, denial, acceptance and confession. A self-made man in every sense of the word, Silk’s success in life embodies a severely warped version of the American dream: an extremely light-skinned black man passing himself off as a Jewish intellectual. Newcomer Wentworth Miller is startlingly good as the tormented young Silk, torn between the pulls of family and future. Hopkins is almost convincing as the tragic hero Coleman Silk, Nicole Kidman less so as the battered Faunia—the cleaning woman who pulls Silk out of his shell. Much like Silk himself, the film is a prisoner of its own ambitions; it falls victim to its literal devotion to Roth’s novel. In any case, The Human Stain is a story better left in print. (TIH)

Kill Bill: Volume I

Quentin Tarantino’s new film centers on a woman known only as The Bride (Uma Thurman), who awakens from a coma four years after she is nearly assassinated at her wedding party by the elite fighting force to which she once belonged. Once she’s up and about again, The Bride sets out on a mission of revenge against her former compatriots. On paper, Kill Bill: Volume I sounds dangerously close to Charlie’s Angels: there are many martial arts action sequences, all of the main characters are women and one of them is played by Lucy Liu. However, whereas Angels was mindless fun, Kill Bill is a thoughtful and beautiful homage to classic themes and styles while remaining the most fun and exciting film of the year. Within the film, one can see hints of all of Tarantino’s influences and tastes—spaghetti westerns, Hong Kong kung fu, Japanese samurai, anime—but all are wonderfully adapted to fit into the unique Tarantino vision. (SNJ)

Lost in Translation

Fulfilling the boundless promise exhibited in her debut effort, The Virgin Suicides, director Sofia Coppola crafts a sublime love letter to both Tokyo and transitory friendship with her newest film, Lost in Translation. Hollywood star Bob Harris (Bill Murray) has been shipped off to Japan to hawk Suntory whiskey to the natives. There he encounters Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson), the beautiful wife of a photographer who spends much of her day staring out her window in hopes of somehow finding herself within the city’s skyline. The pair are soon discovering Tokyo culture and a profundity in their friendship that is lacking in their respective marriages. Johansson perfects the prolonged sulk, while Murray delivers his best performance yet, donning the hats of weary voyager, droll companion and cynical mentor with equal comfort. There are plenty of belly laughs to be had along the way, but what remains with the viewer is the significance of the fleeting connection that these two people share. Coppola dreamily lingers on every scene, adorning each of them with the sensation of the aftermath of a first kiss. (BYC)

Veronica Guerin

Director Joel Schumacher’s latest movie is based upon on the life of the Sunday Independent reporter of the same name. The film is the story of her self-imposed mission to clear the streets of drugs and drug pushers, culminating in her brutal death at the hands of gang leaders attempting to protect themselves from the momentum of her crusade. Most important, it is the story of Guerin herself: her character, her motivations, her fears and doubts. Cate Blanchett’s resplendent performance as Guerin seethes with passion and intensity in every scene. It is her skillful work—as well as that of her supporting cast—that compensates for the film’s directorial inadequacies. (GPH)

—Happening was edited by Tiffany I. Hsieh ’04 and compiled by Ben Y. Chung ’06, Gary P. Ho ’04, Steven N. Jacobs ’05, Sarah L. Solorzano ’05 and Benjamin J. Soskin ’04.