Review of Lonely Hearts (2006) by Blah B — 23 Apr 2007

[SIZE=2][FONT=Times New Roman]When it comes to making bad movies, veteran Dutch director Paul Verhoeven has had what can only be described as great success. With titles like [I]Showgirls, Hollow Man, Robo Cop[/I], and the ever-popular [I]Starship Troopers[/I] in Verhoeven?s catalog, there is little doubt that the man knows how to make exuberant junk. Yet when he buckles down to make a good film, he does it with the same ease that he makes trash. His latest, [B]Black Book[/B] is both his first film made in Holland since [I]The Fourth Man[/I] in 1983 and a convincing argument that he should stick with making good films.

And [I]Black Book[/I] is by my estimation, a very good film. As yet another entry in the ill-fated days of World War Two genre, such a film has to be held up to a very high standard. It must face the burden of proving that it ever should have been made. I think that, flaws and all, [I]Black Book[/I] fully justifies its existence. Verhoeven?s latest is a soapy, extravagant, movie-movie, the kind of slickly made operatic historical piece many yearn for. Plus, for audiences outside of the Netherlands, it provides a glimpse at a radiant and immensely talented star, Claurice Van Houten.

Van Houten takes the lead role as Rachel Steinn, a formerly popular singer from Berlin-and Jew-living under the unwavering grips of Nazi repression. Her story begins on a kibbutz in Israel of 1956. After an unplanned encounter with a friend from a decade earlier, Rachel begins reliving in her mind the tumultuous years of late World War Two in Holland. She lived under the roof of benevolent Catholics in northern Holland, befriended a charming young Dutchman at the nearby lake, and despite living in fear, she actually lived. Such a set-up is promptly put to a halt when Nazi jets callously bomb her hiding place. The family she lives with perishes, but as with every other event in [I]Black Book[/I], Rachel miraculously survives.

Rachel then flees the area and makes contact with W.B. Smaal, an attorney-at-law (played with affection by Dolf De Vries). He arranges to have the young woman meet her family, in a reunion scene that arrives earlier than it?s earned such a moment but coaxes a genuine response, and travel by boat during the night to safety. The blissful moments are terminated when the Nazis show up and without mercy, execute each passenger on the ship. Only Rachel survives (improbably) as she dives into the frigid water and swims quietly to safety. The rest are laid to waste and their possessions looted by the Nazi?s hands. Their head of command, Gunther Franken (the gorilla-faced, obligatory Nazi fat-ass played by Waldemar Kobus) sizes up the kill with a single chilling word: ?excellent.?

She is eventually taken in by Dutch freedom fighters, and sparks of romance light up the screen between her and one of them (actor Thom Hoffman) as much as the flashy gun fight sequences do. On one mission, she crosses paths with the formidably handsome Ludwig Müntze, a high-ranking German officer who lacks the ferocious cruelty of his comrades. In a disarmingly lovely scene, the two fall for each other as they discuss his prized stamp collection. The two meet again at his office, and quickly they begin a heated love affair. With her dyed blonde hair, she?s swept up into Nazi high society and makes ample use of her vocal talents. Through it all, she?s helping the Dutch resistance spy on their Nazi conquerors.

There?s scarcely a moment that falls flat in [I]Black Book[/I]; even at a two-hour plus running time, it?s amazingly exciting. Van Houten truly is a sight to see in action-her singing, her seducing, and her falling in love. During a boisterous Nazi dinner-party, she comes face to face with the officer who led the slaughter of her family and numerous others on that boat. He smiles like a buffoon, not recognizing her at all, but the intensity of it compels her to leave the room and vomit. In another well-played scene, Ludwig notices the dark roots of her bleached hair and realizes her Jewish identity. Van Houten?s reaction-a look of quivering terror, morphs into a feisty confidence: ?Are these breasts Jewish?? she counters, listing every critical region of her body. Sex is sex; she makes her point.

Verhoeven?s [I]Black Book[/I], written with his frequent collaborator Gerard Soeteman, contemplates some frightening aspects of infiltration. At what point do those who seduce or con their way into the world of the enemy begin to share in the guilt? Even worse, their initial intentions could be forgotten after war. Such was the case in the late Kurt Vonnegut?s [I]Mother Night[/I] (made into a film in 1996, starring Nick Nolte), about a man recruited by the American government to act as a Nazi propagandist during the war. Only thing was, after the war ended, he was indistinguishable from everyone else.

As far as Rachel?s friends in the Dutch resistance are concerned, she becomes one with the Nazis. Her dedication to the cause is questioned and groundless accusations are freely hurled. The punishment later doled out to both Ludwig and Rachel is a perfect example of the dangers of post-war justice.

The constant transitions that occur in the first twenty-minutes are dizzying, although practically unavoidable in such a film. Characters are introduced, and then killed off almost instantly. I also fail to understand why the story is told in flashback, when it can be argued that it detracts from the power of the story, rather than add to it. And for my taste, and for the sake of coherence, there are too many double, triple, and quadruple crossings. Kudos to anyone who can accurately keep score. On the plus side (where most of [I]Black Book[/I] firmly lies), Verhoeven holds nothing back. When Rachel Steinn gets the bright idea to dye her vaginal hairs, he lets us savor every lascivious detail. Lesser, more tasteful directors would implore us to use our imagination. There?s plenty of nudity, violence, and a scene towards the end in which Rachel has an unmentionable substance dropped onto her naked flesh. I could live happily without ever witnessing such a gross act again. The rest of the film is gold. I look forward to more excellent films in Dutch by Verhoeven, and also the chance to see a star as captivating as Clarice Van Houten again in anything. She can make two hours of any war a cinch.

Directed by Todd Robinson, [B]Lonely Hearts[/B] debuted over a year ago at the Tribeca Film Festival and has been slumping through international releases until now; it?s playing in limited release across the States. I say miss it while you can. It should be a red flag that mediocrity lies ahead whenever a film stars major players such as John Travolta, James Gandolfini, Laura Dern, Salma Hayek, and Jared Leto, yet one knows almost nothing about it. A film boasting such a fine cast should endure relentless media saturation; but I swear to you that I hadn?t even heard of the film until I arrived at the theater to see it.

The story is a retelling of the saga of Martha Beck and Raymond Fernandez (?the Lonely Heart Killers?) who deceived, then murdered a dozen victims in the 1940s. Hayek and Leto star as the glamorous killers, who for a while pretended to be brother and sister in order to con their prey (an utterly preposterous plot point, just look at how different they are). They appear to give performances from a different over-the-top movie, decent performances that get too hammy and later hysterical than Gandolfini and Travolta as the detectives chasing them. As Elmer C. Robinson, a man with burdens of his own and desperate to find the killers, Travolta has that same tight-jawed, clenched-tooth presence he?s always had. Seldom has it been [I]this[/I] grim. Ganfolfini is fine as his more outgoing and more violent partner Charles Hildebrant, but it?s a downer to watch a pairing so dour.

The only scenes that work to their near-maximum potential are those that feature Laura Dern as Rene, the office beauty who?s having it on with Detective Robinson in what both believe to be a secret affair. She has such a radiant presence, and gives a performance that looms in that nether region between quiet desperation and maternal wisdom. She upstages everyone else around her and gives this wildly uneven movie life. I think Dern, also excellent in David Lynch?s baffling [I]INLAND EMPIRE[/I], is the only reason to watch [I]Lonely Hearts[/I]. It?s a brief supporting part, but it?s her show. It?s [I]not[/I] Salma Hayek?s show, who due to poor casting is unable to convey any of the uncertainty or insecurity that Martha most certainly felt. When she nags Raymond about bedding women during their cons, she comes across as bitchy, not desperate.

There are a handful of murder scenes a la [I]Bonnie and Clyde[/I] and drawn out, very flat detective scenes in the mold of every movie you?ve ever seen. There?s also a kinky scene in which Martha (fat and ugly in real life, talk about poetic license) sucks off a policeman to make him go away. You?ll see it coming from a mile away; most of the movie matches it for predictability.

[I]Lonely Hearts[/I] ends by making a few facile points about crime and punishment, showing an execution scene that seems unnecessarily long and gruesome (if you detested the culmination of [I]Dancer in the Dark[/I], you ain?t seen nothing yet!), and trys to wrap things up tidily for Detective Robinson. It was a plodding ending, but for a film this uneven and longwinded to end at all, it prompted a tiny cheer from me. Enthusiasts of this misfire will be lonely indeed.

In the early 1970s, a middle-aged writer named Clifford Irving found himself in something of a quandry. He couldn?t think of a topic to write a full-length book on, so in a daringly audacious and potentially catastrophic move, he decided to write an autobiography of the legendary Howard Hughes. Hughes, well past his days of flying and scoring with every woman in Hollywood, was a recluse. So Irving wondered, why not lie to the book companies, saying that he'dinterviewed the aviation genius numerous times and then pull the strings until millions of dollars came his way? Hughes, only a few years away from death at this point, might never know. Even if he did, he was a crazy one anyway, so who would believe him?

Films that chronicle an individual mapping out a famous person?s life take place, generally speaking, after they?ve passed, or there are films like the unintentionally creepy [I]Cobb[/I] in which the biographer and subject mingle as 'hilarity' ensues. It?s rare to find an instance, in life or in the movies, in which the ?autobiographer? writes about a living subject without ever meeting them or telling that famous person of his intentions. So it?s a marvelous set-up for Lasse Hallström?s best film in years, the charming and uber clever, [B]The Hoax[/B]. Not only is it one of his finest, it provides Richard Gere with the proper venue for his own acting chops. His performance as Clifford Irving is a richly layered one that differs from most that he?s given in recent years. Gere?s Irving is dishonest and reckless, but he?s also plagued by his own paranoid demons. Gere finds a heart underneath the deception.

The rest of the cast is equally as exciting: the luminous Julie Delpy as Irving?s former lover, Stanley Tucci as the book company executive, Marcia Gay-Harden in a loony part as Irving?s Swiss wife. Hope Davis, pretty and professional, is given ample space to utilize her frowning abilities (I?d like to see just one film in which she sustains a healthy smile for more than three minutes, but that?s another story). Alfred Molina, always worth watching, is Dick Suskind, Irving?s researcher and right-hand man. He has less faith than Irving does in their ability to pull the scam off. ?Fine, tell me dick grew five inches last night and I?ll still use a ruler?, he quips when Irving tries to reassure him of the details.

Hallström does a fine job of laying out the details-the way Irving and Suskind lay down elaborate lie after lie, the specifics of the book deal, the marital strains each experience. When one thinks about it, it?s literally mind-boggling to think that two men could deceive a gigantic book company for as long as they did. It?s a thrill being strung along for the ride.

Most of [I]The Hoax[/I] is that, a breezy and unnervingly funny ride. However, there lurk deeper, darker forces at play and the last act makes a slightly clumsy transition away from scam to paranoid conspiracy. The film, which does feel somewhat bottled up, descends into a world of shadows hinted at in earlier moments of the film. There?s the adultery committed by both Irving and Suskind for one, but also there are the strange scenes in which Irving sits on his couch dressed as The Aviator himself and imitating his speech patterns. It?s hard to know exactly what to make of it and William Wheeler?s script has to be faulted for contributing to that confusion.

Too many scenes have that jagged rhythm in which part of the scheme is elongated or altered, but before the moment can finish naturally, has to cut to a follow-up scene in which Irving explains the new predicament to Suskind. These are minor complaints I had with the film. None should count too strongly against [I]The Hoax[/I]. Howard Hughes has always fascinated me, and in that regard especially, there is much to chew on. I loved seeing the footage of Hughes testify before the Senate in 1947, which becomes even eerier when Hallström shows footage of Hughe?s peculiar final ?public appearance? by phone before the Senate some twenty-five years later. It?s a truly surreal sight. The parallels between Clifford Irving?s actions and the government misconduct are also present, but wisely it?s not laid on too thick until the final minutes. It?s a funny conclusion; utterly fascinating in the way it ties together (without fabricating) the connections between information Irving had on Hughes and President Nixon?s decision to launch the break in that became known as Watergate. The facts are displayed without sermonizing and the snappy [I]Hoax[/I] becomes that rare film to actually leave you with something.

Grades:

[I]Black Book[/I]-[B]B+[/B].

[I]Lonely Hearts[/I]-[B]C[/B].

[I]The Hoax[/I]-[B]B[/B].

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