Clint Eastwood returns to acting (unless you count his charade at the RNC) for the first time since 2008’s Gran Torino.  This time, he’s not behind the camera, but giving the reins to his frequent collaborator Robert Lorenz (Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby, Letters from Iwo Jima).  Trouble with the Curve  tells the story of an aging baseball scout Gus Lobel (Eastwood) checking out a hot high school prospect, only to see (or not) that his visions is going.  After goading from Gus’ friend and boss Pete (John Goodman), Gus’ daughter Mickey (Amy Adams, The Fighter, The Muppets, Enchanted) decides to join her father on the trip despite their estranged relationship.  While on the job, they run into Johnny “The Flame” Flanagan (Justin Timberlake, The Social Network, Friends with Benefits), a former prospect turned scout, who starts to take an interest in Mickey.

Like most Mariner prospects, the film looks great on paper; a stellar cast and crew.  But also like most Mariner prospects, the film turns out to be quite mediocre.  None of the characters are new or novel.  They are merely stock characters taken from the same cookie-cutter mold, making for a predictable narrative.  Each plot point is handled so heavily that the arcs write themselves as soon as they are introduced.  Such colorless characters makes it easy to write off each turn in the story with indifference, making any attempts at poignancy ring to a deaf ear.  

There are slight charms to the film such as solid performances from Eastwood, Adams, and a scene stealing JT.  Lorenz shows flashes of some signature Eastwoodian cinematography, like noiresque low key lighting.  It all adds up so formulaically to a family drama where father and daughter learn to look past misunderstandings to reforge a broken relationship, tying a happy ending up in a bow.  A pleasant visit to the movies sure, but in comparison to other Fall movies like The Master and Looper, it’s going to have some trouble with the curve.     

The Imposter

Imagine that your sister is not your sister. Your neighbor is not your neighbor. Your friend is not your friend.  No, this is not a review for The Matrix, but The Imposter; a documentary depicting the tale of a French con-man, Frederic Bourdin impersonating the missing child Nicholas Barclay and conniving his way into the Barclay family.

The film reads like a how-to on stealing someone’s identity: Bourdin, dark-haired and brown eyed manages to convince the blond and blue-eyed Barclay family with his accented English that he is, in fact, their long-missing (now) 16 year old son.  He weaves tales of sexual abuse, human trafficking, and bodily mutilation; so detailed and indiscreet he even cons the FBI.  

The Imposter is all about narrative.  The film watches like a page-turning crime novel, mesmerising with nerve racking twists (boy howdy are there twists) and unpalatable morality. It cleverly edits and weaves between dramatization and talking heads with a devil’s wit and sardonic sense of humour. The film is wonderfully rounded out with gorgeous cinematography; carving out dark corners creeping with lies and secrets.   

Ultimately, the movie comes off as an extended A&E (hey that’s the name of the production company) true crime special.  Towards the end, it starts to spin its wheels. The film can’t (of course) offer any breakthroughs or new revelations to the case that can’t be found on its wikipedia article, and the narrative begins to sag when the film should have ended 10-20 minutes prior.  However it’s spine-tingling observations and dense narrative are both chilling and engrossing; I con you not.

Big budgets do not mean great movies.  In fact, the film industry seem to have taken a page out of the Seattle Mariners book; huge payroll for little substance.  Story and character growth are bartered for eye-gouging CGI and over-pampered A-List actors.  Your Sister’s Sister rises above this frivolous mediocrity; giving us something honest and true.  With a paltry budget of $125,000, Sister is anchored by realism and humanity.  

Set in the Seattle and the Pacific Northwest, Sister circles around Iris (Emily Blunt, The Devil Wears Prada, The Five Year-Engagement), her best friend Jack (Mark Duplass, Safety Not Guaranteed, The League) and her sister Hannah (Rosemarie DeWitt Rachel Getting Married, United States of Tara).  After a rough year of coping with his brother’s (and Iris’ former lover) death, Iris encourages Jack to retreat from the world at her family’s cabin.  Expecting isolation, he is unexpectedly greeted by Hannah, also seeking refuge after the collapse of her 7-year relationship.  After a bottle of tequila, the two engage in un-sober, sloppy sex; only to be greeted by Iris the next morning.  While the two hide the secret of the trist, Iris also confides in her sister that she has fallen in love with Jack.  The plot doth thicken.

Blunt, Duplass, and DeWitt astound as a trio.  The three engage in a waltz of secrets, carefully tiptoeing around questions and side-stepping glances.  Chemistry crackles between the actors, highlighted and elevated by simple, yet sincere dialogue.  Though at times the dialogue delves into the melodramatic, the trio’s commitment and believability remedy any raised eyebrow.  Their performances are uncompromising, showing tremendous vulnerability in a situation of such fragility that all bonds of sisterhood and friendship can unravel with a single tug.  Lynn Shelton (Humpday) captures natural and scenic beauty of the pine-fresh forrest and misty lake, forming an ambiance of wistful meditation and cathartic revelation.  Though at times melodramatic and a tad predictable, the combination of Shelton’s camera and Blunt/Duplass/DeWitt’s performances spellbind and prove that money doesn’t make good movies; dedication to truth and beauty do.