SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK Review

Every awards season needs its surefire crowd-pleaser, and David O. Russell's "Silver Linings Playbook" is it.  This screwy and hugely compassionate comedy is also a genre-defying collision of football, ballroom dancing, family drama, mental illness and romantic intrigue. The movie follows Pat Solatano Jr. (Bradley Cooper), a troubled man struggling with his bipolar disorder. He was committed to a psych ward after catching another man with his wife, Nicky, and consequently nearly beating him to death. Now having been released and picked up by his loving, dedicated mother, Dolores (Jacki Weaver of "Animal Kingdom"), Pat's on a life mission to get his wife back. The number of times he mentions her name is a sickness in itself, and it comes with a peculiarly positive outlook on life with the motto "excelsior." Much like he did with his last outing "The Fighter," Russell excels in bringing to life colorful idiosyncrasies; here it's the hectic, buzzing nature of Pat's Philly family to which he's brought home.

Robert De Niro plays Pat Sr., a father who doesn't fully realize the apple hasn't fallen too far from the tree. He's an obsessive-compulsive Philadelphia Eagles fan who turns his football fanaticism into an entire family affair. He lost his job and was banned from the stadium for fighting, so he conducts risky business as a bookie leaving him glued to the TV exhibiting irrational and superstitious behaviors to ensure his team wins. Meanwhile he's frustrated that he doesn't know how to help his own son. This is De Niro's juiciest role in a very long time, and he looks more engaged than ever. Perhaps because it's not just another "Fockers" sequel, and thank goodness because it reminds us why he's one of this generation's great veteran actors.

The movie is a little wobbly to start establishing Pat's personal predicament, but it really gets its footing once Jennifer Lawrence's widowed Tiffany is introduced. They meet at a dinner party hosted by Tiffany's controlling sister, Veronica (Julia Stiles), and her stifled husband, Ronnie (John Ortiz). The minute Pat and Tiffany lock eyes, there is a connection, a chemistry. Tiffany even bluntly asks to have sex, but that's not what she means. She's only turning to her typical habit when it comes to interacting with men. They feed off each other's unfiltered, manic energy, and their scenes together are something to behold. Lawrence appears transformed since we were first introduced to her in 2010's "Winter's Bone." At only 22, she really is the girl on fire, straddling both the "Hunger Games" franchise and an incredibly unhinged performance like this.

Cooper is a comparable match to Lawrence, an actor with a prolific career who tops it off here. The off-kilter sway, momentum and fidgety air he brings to Pat is revelatory and unlike anything we've seen from him before. Behind those bright blue eyes is a vulnerability, a conflicting mess of impulses and emotions; lucky for him, it's something Tiffany shares. They both flirt with disaster, but at least now they can do it together.

Having both written and directed it from the 2008 novel by Matthew Quick, Russell brings the work of a true auteur to "Silver Linings Playbook" with a love for his characters, a very unique rhythm and a quirky sense of controlled chaos. The zany family he sets into play builds and gets more convoluted, especially with the additions of Pat's buddy from the psych ward, played by Chris Tucker who we arguably haven't seen since "Rush Hour," and Anupam Kher as Pat's shrink.

The film's loose storytelling takes Pat and Tiffany to a dance competition -- and without giving too much away, their dance is a sporadic treat, a schizophrenic blast of motion that perfectly mirrors what goes on inside these characters' heads. The scene recalls to mind the beauty pageant at the end of "Little Miss Sunshine," a misshapen family unit coming together. While one of the lessons of "Silver Linings" may just be to find your own silver lining in life, the real silver lining may be that no matter who you are, everybody's just a little bit crazy.

SKYFALL Review

Forgetting "Quantum of Solace" ever existed, the latest James Bond reinvention arrives as a full-bodied piece of rousing entertainment that's even better than Martin Campbell's original reboot of the franchise with 2006's "Casino Royale." First off, Daniel Craig (reprising his Bond role for a third time) looks more confident and assured than ever. Less bulky, more lean, looking haggard but still handsome and with a newly added sly sense of humor, the actor portrays 007 as less brooding and more finessed. Director Sam Mendes, whose most recent outing was the small indie comedy "Away We Go," has worked with Craig on "Road to Perdition" and proves the perfect man for the job. And coupled with a talented trio of writers -- Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and John Logan -- "Skyfall" excites from the start hitting the ground running with a breathless opening action sequence.

The elaborate chase takes us to the first of the film's exotic locations: Istanbul. Bond and a fellow agent, Eve (Naomie Harris), are in a pursuit that takes Bond on top of a moving train with Eve watching closely. Monitoring remotely from MI6 in London is the severe-looking M (Judi Dench); as Bond gets into a wrestling match with the enemy in pursuit, Eve announces she can take a shot to take the enemy down. It's a risky shot, but a shot nonetheless. M makes a judgement call ("Take the shot!") that sends Bond plummeting to the rushing water below.

Brilliantly choreographed action like the above is sprinkled throughout the duration of "Skyfall" taking us to Shanghai and a mysterious island that houses the film's best Bond villain in years. Played effortlessly by Javier Bardem, Silva is all the more terrifying in his theatricality with flamboyant dress, cat-like eyes and bleach blonde hair. A playful and perversely sexual exchange between Silva and Bond is inspired. No stranger to sinister roles having embodied Anton Chigurh in "No Country for Old Men," Bardem plays Silva as the face of cyber terrorism. He's a computer whiz who can spark chaos with one key stroke and the newest threat to MI6 even if only M and her agents realize it yet.

There's a Bond girl (Berenice Marlohe), but just barely. Perhaps it's because Eve's real name is Miss Moneypenny -- hint, hint. Instead, the emphasis is on the complicated relationship between Bond and M, a storyline thread that takes them to Bond's origin: an old Scottish mansion fittingly named Skyfall and inhabited by a man named Kincade (Albert Finney) who raised the young James. This brand new Bond comes just in time for the series' 50th anniversary, and it both invigorates the modern and commemorates the past. M is past her years, and there's a new boss in position, Mallory (Ralph Fiennes). When Bond is debriefed on a mission from a much younger Q (Ben Whishaw), the only gadgetry he receives is a palm-recognizing pistol and radio transmitter. And yet when the original Aston Martin from "Goldfinger" is unveiled, it's a blast of pure nostalgia for fans.

Adele's gorgeous theme reverberates throughout "Skyfall" with the classic Bond theme trumpeting in later on, and the whole thrill ride is accented with a touch of artfulness from Roger Deakins whose keen cinematography deserves awards consideration. And speaking of awards, if never in its 22-film history has a Bond film been nominated for an Oscar, the 23rd entry in the prolific franchise is a better time than ever.

FLIGHT Review

Robert Zemeckis hasn't directed a live-action movie since "Cast Away," so how perfect that 12 years later he's at the helm of "Flight" whose centerpiece is a harrowing 20-minute airplane crash sequence. Nothing tops the FedEx flight disaster in the 2000 Tom Hanks vehicle, but this certainly comes close in its heart-pounding detail and claustrophobic point-of-view placing us right in the cockpit. After escaping stormy weather and turbulence, the plane suffers a mechanical failure sending it into an irreversible nose dive. The fear evoked in the lead flight attendant (Tamara Tunie) and young co-pilot (Brian Geraghty) is a contrast to the calm, level-headed demeanor of pilot Whip Whitacker (Denzel Washington) who rolls the aircraft upside-down to maintain its altitude in a gut-instinct decision.

Hours prior to this very flight, we see Whip hungover in a hotel room. Beer and liquor bottles scatter the room, and he fights on the phone with his ex-wife while a naked woman dresses beside the bed. To jolt himself back to life from his grogginess, he sniffs two lines of cocaine and throws on his dark aviator sunglasses to portray a man completely in control. It's a facade, though, as Whip is a man who's completely lost control, and playing this tortured soul gives Denzel Washington his most hypnotic and powerful dramatic performance in years. And Zemeckis, who recently turned his efforts exclusively toward stop-motion animation ("Beowulf," "The Polar Express"), hasn't lost the ability to draw performances from great actors.

Whip glides the plane with 102 passengers on board into a crash-landing in a vacant field holding nothing but a small church. Only six die in the crash, and to those who don't know Whip personally, he's hailed as a hero. No other pilot could've landed the plane the way he did, and crash simulators following the event prove this. The fact remains, however, that Whip was intoxicated. An investigation from a federal organization goes underway with Whip under close scrutiny. The film, against expectation, is smart in not devolving into mere procedural. Instead, it continues as a brooding and intense character study with phenomenal supporting turns to accompany.

Retreating to seclusion at his grandfather's farm, Whip dumps all remaining alcohol in his possession. He realizes the plane crash was his wake-up call; his opportunity to turn his life around. When his union representative (Bruce Greenwood) and lawyer (Don Cheadle) turn up, however, with the bad news of Whip's toxicology report, whether Whip can stay above the influence of his past behavior or continue his downward spiral comes into question. During his stay in the hospital, Whip meets a drug-addicted woman named Nicole (Kelly Reilly); just when you think it'll be him who saves her, she attends AA on her own, and her disappointment in Whip trumps her ability to help him.

And if John Goodman is to be nominated this year, it should be for his role here (over "Argo") as Whip's drug guru, Harling Mays, who channels the Dude from "The Big Lebowski." He arrives at a crucial moment when Whip is held overnight in a hotel room before the morning of his hearing. In only two scenes, he steals the show injecting the movie with dark humor. Likewise, Melissa Leo commands the screen during another pivotal single scene. A bold claim can be made for ensemble of the year here.

"Flight" is about a man battling his inner demons, and the screenplay from "Real Steel" scribe John Gatins doesn't tell us how to view, or judge, Whip. The film nears perfection, but then backs off at the last minute. It gives Whip the easy option, the nicely wrapped epilogue. Such tumultuous proceedings should've been left more open-ended, not so easily solvable; give Denzel Washington's acting more credit. His impending Oscar nomination proves it.

CLOUD ATLAS Review

"Cloud Atlas" is inherently polarizing in its very nature. Either you get swept up in its soaring, outlandish vision, or you don't. It's a film easy to dismiss but equally as easy to get caught up in its undeniable power and ambition. From Andy and Lana Wachowski (who arguably haven't made a decent movie since "The Matrix" and maybe "The Matrix Reloaded") and Tom Tykwer, behind the one-hit wonder "Run Lola Run," these three set out to make the epic, visionary mind-bender of the year. And to their credit, they've done exactly that.

The movie is based on the seemingly impossible to adapt 2004 novel from David Mitchell, which tells six different stories spanning between the mid-19th century and well beyond the year 2144. The movie adaptation casts the same group of actors playing different characters within each story. The main players are Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Hugo Weaving, Jim Sturgess, Ben Whishaw and Jim Broadbent who all, in some cases, are not even recognizable in the role they play. Supporting them are Hugh Grant and Susan Surandon. Sometimes the actors are the centerpiece of their story, other times they're a background figure. Each story opens with a larger exposition to give some context, each serving as their own single vignette. Once introduced, however, they weave together cutting back and forth between each other with a very specific rhythm.

The success in the storytelling comes from the way the six stories, and the main roles within, work together as they spill over and ripple through the narratives. I can't imagine the road map the Wachowskis and Tykwer must've created to pull this off. Now, I could go into detail about the premise of each timeline, but it would be an effort in vain. The point is the complex tapestry of feelings that is ultimately created, how particular themes so clearly resonates freely into the next frame. The filmmakers definitely touch on something political -- big oil destroying a nation -- but I won't get into that here. Themes of freedom, justice, liberation, truth, love, loss, good and evil all perfectly sync up in the thematic telling of each story, and it has a wondrous effect. We're never set on a character for long, but in the way certain roles represent others in a different timeline, similar emotions carry over. An escape, a romantic interest, a painful death -- there's always a link. Repeated passages, phrases and one similarly-shaped birth mark command repeated viewings to follow what I can only assume are endless correlations between the six stories.

If this all seems very general, that's because it is. "Cloud Atlas" works at its best when looking at the bigger picture. It's in the details where the movie starts to fall apart. The portrayals are caricature, cartoonish even, but there's no lack in color and texture. For example, the 2144 storyline takes place in Seoul, Korea and forces actors to wear makeup making them appear more Asian. (Except for stoic and stunning Korean actress Doona Bae.) It's a weird effect, especially Jim Sturgess' use of an accent. The other future storyline has Tom Hanks and Halle Berry speaking in a strange, broken language that's nearly laughable -- not to mention almost impossible to understand. But again, those are the nit-picky details. When watching "Cloud Atlas," an overall feeling emerges, a grandiose idea of the recurring moralities of human nature, no matter when or where, or what lifetime -- history repeats itself. I urge you to see it. It's certainly not for everyone, but it also very well might be just for you.