In the final film from Stanley Kubrick, a socialite couple (Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman) get in over their heads when they decide to follow their adulterous impulses. This movie gets a bad rep, but I think it’s primarily because the casting of two superstars led to more commercial audience expectations. It’s a more intimate portrait than that, and beautifully made. I really love the weed-smoking scene, especially for the sinister undertone in Kidman’s performance. She outshines Cruise in this movie. Thematically, I enjoyed the exploration of infidelity — men’s, women’s, real, imagined. I find it interesting that the female character needs her husband to acknowledge her desires, while he seems uncomfortable acknowledging his own. (Ironic casting of Cruise? I think so.) And of course, it’s also fun to see the posh, clandestine orgy scene of Kubrick’s dreams (with the full-frontal shots restored to the most recent DVD and blu-ray releases).
Two con artists (Christian Bale and Amy Adams) get roped by an FBI agent (Bradley Cooper) into a scheme to bring down an earnest mayor (Jeremy Renner) and as many congressmen as possible. But when the mafia (headed by Robert DeNiro) get embroiled in the ruse, allegiances get dicey. American Hustle is from one of my favorite writer/directors, David O. Russell (Three Kings, Silver Linings Playbook), who has yet to wrong to the movie-going public. He’s great with ensembles and he’s smart enough to give good ones a wide berth. The men all do fine jobs here, including comedian Louis C.K. in a memorable supporting role as Cooper’s reluctant boss. But it’s the women who really shine. Four-time Oscar nominee Adams is especially good when she tells boyfriend Bale the great lengths to which she will go to make Cooper think she loves him. She’ll keep you guessing as to whose side she’s really on.
An aimless playboy and a dorky middle-schooler become friends through serendipity in About a Boy, based on the book by Nick Hornby and directed by Chris and Paul Weitz of American Pie fame. Hugh Grant plays the playboy, coasting on royalties from a famous song his father wrote. Nicholas Hoult, who would later grow up to later star in X-Men: First Class and Warm Bodies, plays the kid. I have a soft spot for surrogate father/son relationships in movies (and I don’t think I’m alone), but Grant and Hoult do a commendable job playing the parts believably and steering clear of cheese. The film manages to incorporate some real drama into the mix, especially regarding Hoult’s suicidal mother (Toni Collette), without getting too weighed down.
