Suspense, Historical Backdrop Bolster 'The Debt'

Directed by: John Madden, Runtime: 113 minutes
Grade: B

Fueled by one of the stronger motivations that could occupy a historical/political thriller, John Madden's The Debt is about the capture of a Nazi war criminal -- an experimental doctor -- for the purpose of holding a trial in Israel for his actions. Three hand-selected operatives orchestrate a cloak-and-dagger mission and, afterward, keep him detained, fed, and clean while their home country prepares for their arrival. That's just the first half of the story; the second explores the operatives' elder years, where they've harbored and lamented the truth of what really happened during his imprisonment. It sounds disheartening, blatantly so, and it might have been had Madden chose to stress historical mourning too heavily. But the Shakespeare in Love director creates a shrewd and skillful espionage thriller that uses reparation, justice, and ultimately retribution for the acts of World War II as enthralling drivers instead of pushy mediums for rumination, punctuated by historical magnitude instead of directly driven by it.

Remade from an Israeli production by the Stardust/Kick-Ass writer duo of Matthew Vaughn and Jane Goldman, as well as Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy's Peter Straughan, Madden's film first centers on a modern point in 1997, where the daughter of former Mossad agent Rachel Singer (Helen Mirren) -- the youngest and only female among the operation's spies -- has written a book about the events that occurred in mid-'60s Berlin. You'd think that having a mother who took part in the capture would be quite a resource. And she is, but only to an extent; she and her two cohorts haven't been forthright with what truly happened, skirting around a few major details. As Rachel reads a passage from her daughter's book and we're shown the way the event is depicted as the Israeli people understand it, haunted pain clearly stirs in her eyes. Some probably interpret it as the aftereffects of going through the ordeal, still leaving her troubled and pensive to this day, but soon we learn it's because things aren't as they seem.

The Debt indulges our curiosity as it shifts back to Berlin in the early-'60s to recollect the full breadth of the mission's developments, clarifying how a well-trained but green Rachel Singer (filled with barefaced composure by Jessica Chastain) poses as an infertile wife to entrap the doctor-turned-gynecologist, Dieter Vogel, with the aid of her two partners -- Stefan (Marton Csokas), the roguish piano-playing leader, and David (San Worthington), the young closed-off warrior. Director Madden navigates the standard spy build-up with a dutiful cinematic perspective, painting a tidy picture of the operatives' personality types as they orchestrate their mission: how they spar in their weathered apartment, the nervousness that stirs while surveying their target, and rigidly getting to know one another as they await the green light to execute their plan. They're all patriots of different stripes and different motivations, and we're moderately drawn into the dynamic they strike in the walls of the East Berlin apartment.

But this film isn't built to meticulously explore the characters' profundity and why they've signed on for the mission, instead less-ambitiously concerned with the anticipation behind seeing how these patriots -- with a motivation that speaks for itself -- capture the war criminal and keep him detained. Some might look at The Debt's somewhat single-minded thrust as a limitation on its historical and thematic strength, and they're not wrong, but when the suspense captures an electric vintage atmosphere and edginess that's as effective as what Madden's constructed, it's reasonably justifiable. A blur of cloak-and-dagger tactics propels the lengthy stream of events, from the culmination of physical training and the exaction of a clever plan to some on-the-fly thinking during an escape, and it's thoroughly exhilarating while meeting the limited demands set for it. And once we relive the last moments of the espionage mission as they really happened, occurring beat-for-beat in the way it's originally depicted but with a different outcome, it discovers a swell of import that does, in due course, tie to historical consequence.

Don't get me wrong: The Debt does unearth some muffled soul-searching and examination within the story's central flashback, which becomes a driving force once Madden brings us back to the modern era ... and bridges the gap between the two without neglecting a suspenseful beat. When the aged, scarred Rachel comes out of retirement (somewhat by force) to smooth the wrinkles caused by the threat of their secret surfacing to their nation -- requiring her to breathlessly weave and hide in an office, fast-talk her way into buildings, and unsheathe a needled syringe -- the substance seems tailor-made to conduct the flow of suspense, while Helen Mirren captivatingly handles a distressed incarnation of the green Mossad agent we once experience. Yet, it's mostly a means to an end, the drama pigeonholing itself into mere explanations of the motivations behind decisions made in the growingly byzantine thrills, without much cathartic follow-through to the limited emotionality it introduces. This isn't powerful filmmaking; however, it is effectively thrilling against the backdrop of poignant historical circumstance.

'One Day' Shows Up a Few Too Late

Directed by: Lone Sherfig, Runtime: 107 minutes
Grade: C-

You practically couldn't see one of Focus Features' films in 2011 without also stumbling onto the trailer for One Day, and considering the thriving year that the studio has had -- ranging from Hanna to Jane Eyre, not to mention Bridesmaids on the Universal front -- plenty of eyes fell on its OneRepublic-powered, indie-romance tearfulness. Lots of faith was placed in the charisma that actors Jim Sturgess and Anne Hathaway generate, and it shows in the film's exposure. The faith isn't misguided; the charm Sturgess embodies in Across the Universe is both soul-crushing and chaste, while Anne Hathaway's mix of dainty appeal and untamed might creates something special in Rachel Getting Married and The Princess Diaries alike. Confidence in their talent won't falter after you've seen this middling, lop-sided tale of companionable friendship and romance that never was, but they should probably consider refraining from being love interests in other projects.

Based on the best-selling book by Dave Nicholls and draped in alternating cold blues and warm yellows in Benoît Delhomme's adept cinematography, One Day follows the not-quite romance between bright-minded writer Emma (Hathaway) and charismatic self-starter Dexter (Sturgess), spanning twenty-plus years from 1988 and onward. Starting the day they graduate from college, the story checks in with the couple every July the 15th of their "friendship" to explore how they dance around their pull to one another, finding each of them at different points in their lives: suffering jobs, mending relationships, living abroad, and coping with family illness. At first, Dex is a self-absorbed, loose-zippered TV host, wealthy and womanizing, while Emma ekes out a living while trying to find her place in the world. Eventually, the tables are turned and Emma pulls herself from her life's rut, just in time for Dex to suffer his. The suspense lies in when they'll finally drop their restraints and indulge in their palpable almost-love, if they ever can.

While One Day's arrangement sounds like gimmicky romance -- dropping in on the mismatched couple on the same day every year to see how they've progressed, as individuals and as a couple -- and Dex and Emma's faux-platonic relationship is a staple among like-minded dram-coms, there's no denying that director Lone Sherfig maintains a steady, melancholy tone that avoids the saccharine or silly. She brings a similar perspective to their pushing-and-pulling as she did to An Education, where she relishes the subtlety of conversation and the occasional bustle of excitement in their travels; that includes an impromptu holiday to clear Emma's mind, reminiscent of Jenny's eye-opening trip in that film. In fact, it could be argued that Sherfig doesn't allow for enough joy, as their progression through ramshackle jobs and painstaking relationships suggests that there's simply no happiness for Dex and Emma aside from one another. That might be part of the point, but it's rendered into a glum, overcast experience here.

The reason the heartrending romantic-tragedy elements don't work in One Day roots in the chemistry between Jim Sturgess and Anne Hathaway, simply because there is very, very little. On their own terms, the two maturing actors create distinct identities out of Dex and Emma; Sturgess captures brewing egotism and a strung-out '90s partier disposition well enough, as well as his cascade downward, while Anne Hathaway's catching charm and pert Brit-Scot accent transform Emma into a sarcastic, affable mate hiding underneath Dex's nose. However, there's very little romantic spark between them in their young-adult forms, and that lack of magnetism translates into an impetus for the story that doesn't maintain firm-enough footing, causing one to wonder why they'd even stick it out in the first place -- or why they'd find each other appealing. The first half of that dilemma is addressed near the story's apex, but the follow-through only convinces as far as Sturgess and Hathaway's partitioned charms will allow.

Surprisingly, when we reach the later years of Dex and Emma's life, where they reflect back on the decisions they've made and what they've been missing, things start clicking together in spite of the failed chemistry between the two leads. Director Lone Sherfig pilots these deeper-rooted, weighty components -- growing up, divorce, children, and ultimately loss -- far better than she does in convincing us of the wayward friends' reluctance to finally be together, but that still proves to be a problem when One Day demands punctuation at moments that rely on the connection they've shared from the start. And when it reaches an emotional climax, one in which Sherfig elegantly frames within the film's earlier moments, it's only once again made poignant because of the investment given towards the individual characters, and less over their relationship. There's a heartrending story present here, but it's limited to an operative character study of those forlorn over what appears to be an irritating, fruitless love.

Abysmal 'Nutcracker' Not Even Close to Saved by Visuals

Directed by: Andrey Konchalovskiy, Runtime: 110 minutes
Grade: D-

Within the lair of a tyrannical villain, a lavish song and dance ensues while we're watching a colossal shark swim in an enclosed tank. The war-torn streets of a city are tattered and littered with eviscerated toys and ash. And rat-humanoid soldiers soar through the air in jet-propelled gliders (think Santa Clause), while a helicopter with at least twelve propellers and a pair of mechanical legs zips along the horizon. No, you're not reading the wrong review: all this exists within The Nutcracker: The Untold Story, a UK-Hungary co-production directed by Andrey Konchalovskiy, and it's about as, uh, different as it sounds, showing inspiration from Julie Taymor and a little Sky Captain in its theatrical opulence. But it's also convoluted, out-of-place, and frustrating against the context of Christmas family fare -- and a wacky juxtaposition of holiday tidings and dystopian bleakness is only the start of its problems.

Most of that occurs in the second half of this wild deviation from E.T.A. Hoffman's story, while the first feels a little more at-ease in the spirit of holiday-focused cinema. It tells the story of a wealthy family in '20s Austria, mostly from the perspective of Mary (a charming but discomfited Elle Fanning, Super 8), a pre-teen girl who wants her whole clan together for Christmas -- something that's not going to happen since her mother (Yuliya Vysotskaya), an opera singer, has a performance that evening. Instead, she and her brother will be looked after by their uncle, Albert (boisterously accented by Nathan Lane, The Producers), and after he brings over a dollhouse and a wooden nutcracker for the kids, he sings them to sleep with the 'Relativity Song" (yeah, he's that Albert). But in the confines of Mary's dreams, or so it seems, the wooden nutcracker becomes human-sized and speaks to her of important matters, while her home also shifts in dimension and the dollhouse her uncle gave her -- as well as the handful of toys/dolls occupying it -- comes to life.

At first, for the most part, Konchalovskiy's odd holiday extravaganza treads water by spinning a bland but tolerable riff on the Nutcracker story, even though stilted performances, tonal shifts, and impromptu musical numbers still render it a perplexing and unfocused celebration of the story's tradition. A lot of it comes from its artistic perspective, easily the film's highlight; as the camera guides through a blown-up version of Mary's house, through the needles and branches of a Christmas tree adorned with candy-colored ornaments, and amidst whimsically-swirling magic sparkles, it surrounds the wide-eyed Mary with visual delights that, at first, distract from the tale's cockamamie hollowness. And even though the idea of familiar faces appearing in one's dreams has been explored- Tarsem's The Fall comes to mind -it fits well-enough here to not feel overly banal against its dreamy setting.

But once we learn more about the nutcracker, his royal lineage, the spell that turned him wooden, and his kingdom being overrun by humanoid rats, this thing turns sour just as soon as it moves away from the dollhouse and Christmas tree. Transforming the rats into warmongering imperialists and erroneously removing itself from the Christmas atmosphere -- literally and tonally -- for nearly half the picture, the path it undergoes as Mary continues her travels with the animated Nutcracker (NC, as he's goofily called) becomes one of the most infuriating, poorly-conceptualized holiday films I've seen. Due in equal parts to ungainly direction from Andrey Konchalovskiy and dreadful scripting, the magical essence that spices up the beginning is lost in the smog of peculiar dreariness, created by an ugly Burgermeister-Meisterburger villain in Joe Turturro's rat king and a dreary air that wants to say something about war-torn cities ... but can't come close.

Aside from the problematic filmmaking in its bones, The Nutcracker: The Untold Story faces its biggest problem in trying to both wildly deviate from the story proper and reincorporate the elements that hallmark a production of The Nutcracker -- including Tchaikovsky's score, now accompanied by hammy lyrics by Tim Rice. Instead, we're left with snarling Nazi rats with retractable snouts, sharks killed on a whim, and oodles of spirit-zapping oddness in the destitute streets of the smoky city in Mary's dreams, and the action or stakes that propel it through the deviations can't generate enough concern over the outcome to justify its peculiarity. So much has gone awry that it's tough to succinctly convey it, but saying there's no magic, too much fright, and not enough Christmas cheer is a good starting point, and whoever voiced this untold (albeit wall-to-wall identifiable) story and its tangents should've bit their tongue.