Video review: "Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood"

More than anyone else working in Hollywood today, Quentin Tarantino makes movies strictly for himself. The audience’s reaction is a mere afterthought.

His latest, “Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood,” falls about in the middle of his oeuvre. It's a big, sprawling, unfocused mess that nonetheless contains moments of Tarantino-esque intensity and entertainingly unhinged moods.

The story more or less centers on the duo Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt. DiCaprio is Rick Dalton, a fading actor clutching to the last scraps of fame from a long-canceled cowboy TV show, and Pitt is Cliff Booth, a laconic stuntman who is his stunt double, driver and gofer.

Dalton is outwardly McQueen-esque bravado but is inwardly Woody Allen-ish neuroticism. Booth lives in a scrap-heap trailer and has just a dog for companionship. Their relationship is part boss/flunky, part drinking buddies, part nanny/child.

DiCaprio has the showier part, swinging through wild moods while being spectacularly unappreciative of a career that's superior to that 99.99% actors enjoy. But ultimately I felt drawn to Pitt's character, an aging cowboy tooling around in a Champion spark plug T and Hawaiian shirt slip-on, never seeming to worry about what tomorrow will bring.

The movie never really seems to focus on either character, trading back and forth on their solo movements while occasionally bringing them back together. I yearned for the latter sections and mostly suffered through the former.

The tie-in with the Manson murders seems concocted just to have something to bounce the boys off of, or give the piece a semblance of a narrative. Margot Robbie barely has any speaking lines as Sharon Tate, who lives in the house up the hill from Rick along with her husband, Roman Polanski. She is sometimes seen and barely heard.

Like "Inglorious Basterds," the historical record is used as a mere springboard for Tarantino’s fevered imagineering.

The writer/director/noted amateur podiatrist flies his foot fetish flag freely this go-round, with lots of close-ups of filthy hippie hooves. I wonder why at some point these big-name actors don't say, "Hey dude, sorry but I don't want to do this scene with some girl's feet in my face."

Hey, ya like tootsies, that's fine by me. I just find it distracting and icky to have a scene where half the screen is Margot Robbie's face reacting to stuff and the other half is her soles. And the fact that nearly every woman who appears in the movie has a scene like this.

There are certainly some entertaining parts to it, but my guess is the person who will most enjoy Quentin Tarantino’s latest movie is Tarantino himself.

Bonus features are rooted in additional scenes that pad another 20 minutes onto the film’s already ample run time, bringing it to a full three hours. There ae also five making-of documentary featurettes:

• “Quentin Tarantino’s Love Letter to Hollywood”
• “Bob Richardson – For the Love of Film”
• “Shop Talk – The Cars of 1969”
• “Restoring Hollywood – The Production Design of Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood”
• “The Fashion of 1969”

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Video review: "The Revenant"

In my original review of “The Revenant” I predicted it would be a love-it-or-hate-it film, and I was even more right than I knew. People who had a year earlier divided by Alejandro González Iñárritu’s “Birdman” quickly chose up sides again, mostly falling into the same camps.

But I switched teams. I thought Iñárritu’s direction mostly showed restraint, using roving cameras and other cinematic tricks largely in service to the story, rather than for their own sake. (As was the case with the overwrought “Birdman.”)

Leonardo DiCaprio deservedly won his first Oscar for his near-wordless portrayal of Hugh Glass, a real 18th-century scout who was mauled by a bear and left for dead by his companions. In their defense, the party was deep in the wilderness and many of them had just been killed in an attack by American Indians, and were still being chased.

Glass spends weeks dragging his maimed body through a barren frozen wasteland, with death waiting at nearly every turn. The film has a spare, harsh beauty to it that’s undeniable.

Tom Hardy is a brooding presence as John Fitzgerald, a Machiavellian member of the group who advocates leaving Glass behind to die, but then volunteers when a large bounty is offered to guard him. Of course, his intentions are less than pure.

I also liked Forrest Goodluck, a novice actor who plays Glass’ half-Indian son. He doesn’t say a lot, but his face conveys much without words.

Based on the “historical novel” by Michael Punke, “The Revenant” can be tough to watch. The bear attack itself, done mostly with CGI, is a technical marvel. The real gruesomeness, though, comes in watching a man who’s literally been torn apart struggle and refuse to die.

It’s a grim existential journey worth the investment of 2½ hours of your time.

Bonus features are disappointingly scanty. The blu-ray comes with a making-of documentary, “A World Unseen” – and that’s it.


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Fearless Oscar predictions and picks: 2015

I've said it before and I will say it again with Rubio-like constancy: 2015 will go down as one of the all-time great years in cinema. It's only appropriate, then, that the race for the Academy Award for Best Picture is one of the most contentious and unpredictable in decades.

Usually by now a portrait emerges: a clear favorite, its chief competition and a dark horse or two. The clear favorite nearly always wins, the last big upset coming for 1999 when "Shakespeare in Love" beat "Saving Private Ryan." (While "Crash" from 2006 was a clear mistake, I'm not sure how popular deserving winner "Brokeback Mountain" really was among Academy voters.)

This time around, the picture is as clear as mud.

Based on the preliminary awards, it's a three-way race between "The Revenant," "Spotlight" and "The Big Short." All three arrive with the credentials to be called a front-runner.

The result? Utter, glorious higgledy-piggledy.

So here are my predictions for the winners in all 24 categories. (Hey, you can't call yourself a true Oscar prognosticator unless you're willing to make a pick for Best Black and White Costume Short.)

As always, not only will I tell you who think will win and who should win, I'll gleefully toss out some of the nominees in favor of more deserving ones, in a soon-to-be hallowed tradition I call the "Chris Cross."

Best Picture

"The Revenant" won the Golden Globe for drama (with non-Oscar-contender "The Martian" ludicrously taking the comedy award), BAFTA best film and, most significantly, Directors Guild award. Director and co-writer Alejandro González Iñárritu has the gloss of prestige as last year's Oscar winner. A repeat would be historic, only the third time a director has won back-to-back awards and the first in 65 years.

"Spotlight" got the Screen Actors Guild award for best cast -- their equivalent of best picture -- the Writers Guild award for drama and the top award from the Broadcast Film Critics Association. (Including my ballot as a first-time voting member.) Plus the endorsement of many regional film critic groups, including the Indiana Film Journalists Association. (I'm everywhere!)

Coming in strong at the end of the race is "The Big Short," directed by goofball comic filmmaker Adam McKay, which shocked many with a win from the Producers Guild, which historically has been one of the best predictors of the Oscar winner. It also took the Writers Guild award for comedy.

Like I said, it's a tough call. I'm going to throw out "Big Short," more or less on gut feeling. It just doesn't have that shiny patina of a Best Pic. On paper "Revenant" seems to have the edge -- it's got "prestige picture" written all over it, and a solid pedigree of previous Oscar nominees and winners.

But there's a backlash growing against "Revenant." A lot of people feel it's too violent and overpraised. There was also a sizeable contingent in Hollywood who thought "Birdman" was similarly overblown -- my hand goes up! -- and don't like to dole out golden statuettes haphazardly.

So I predict "Spotlight" will eke out a win.

For the Chris Cross, I don't feel that any of the eight nominees are truly undeserving. All made my list of the best films of the year -- just much lower down.

Will Win: Spotlight
Should Win: Spotlight
Chris Cross: The End of the Tour, Love & Mercy, Mr. Holmes and Steve Jobs replace Bridge of Spies, Brooklyn, The Martian and The Revenant.

Director

Iñárritu won the DGA award, which is usually the Oscar winner, so he has to be called the front-runner. Tom McCarthy of "Spotlight" and Lenny Abrahamson of "Room" are low-profile filmmakers without a lot of credits under their belt. Adam McKay has been known for gross-out comedies, often starring Will Ferrell, and that will hurt him. So the only real competition is George Miller.

I would give it to Miller. More than any film, "Mad Max: Fury Road" represents one artist's singular vision. The Aussie revived a nearly 40-year-old franchise with a new actor and then went one better and centered the story around another (female) character. Bold, visionary filmmaking.

Miller is hurt by the fact that his film falls into the action/adventure mold, and those do not fare well in the awards.

If Iñárritu prevails he would join Joseph L. Mankiewicz and John Ford as the only directors to win back-to-back Oscars. That's pretty rarefied country, and I think voters will take a hard look at "The Revenant" and "Birdman" and ask if those are films that really deserve to go down as all-time greats.

Will Win: George Miller
Should Win: George Miller
Chris Cross: Tough call, but I will knock out Iñárritu for James Ponsoldt of "The End of the Tour," a criminally overlooked film. Ridley Scott deserved a nom, too, but not sure who I'd cross out.

Writing (Adapted Screenplay)

The screenplay categories are where the Academy likes to reward smaller films that don't have a shot at winning Best Picture. So whichever category doesn't have the Best Pic winner is the one where they can "spread the love." Since I think "Spotlight" will win Best Picture, it will likely win the Original Screenplay category.

The favorite here is "The Big Short," which took a complex issue and melded it into a digestible, funny and infuriating take on the real estate bubble. It also won the WGA award, so it's the clear favorite.

Its main competition is "Room." While it's a wonderful film, #2 on my list of the year's best, I think its strength lies in its performances rather than the script. (Which does have a few minor problems, particularly in the second half with the William H. Macy character.)

Contrastingly, it's amazing to me that "Steve Jobs" and "The End of the Tour," both carefully constructed narratives, did not get nominations. Meanwhile, old-fashioned storytelling in "Brooklyn" and "Carol" was recognized.

It's important to note that "The Revenant" did not get a writing nod, which I think underscores the movie's weakness in the big race.

While Best Picture winners occasionally lack any acting nominations -- "Slumdog Millionaire" most recently -- it's rare for them to not be recognized for the screenplay. Only seven films have won Best Pic without a screenplay nod, and most of them were in the very early days of the Academy Awards. The most recent being "Titanic" in 1997 and "The Sound of Music" in 1965.

Will Win: The Big Short
Should Win: The Big Short
Chris Cross: The End of the Tour and Steve Jobs replace Brooklyn and Carol.

Writing (Original Screenplay)

One of the easiest calls of the night, for "Spotlight." It won the WGA award and could be the Best Picture. If it doesn't, then this is its make-up award.

Why no screenplay nom for "Mad Max: Fury Road?" Sure, there's not a lot of dialogue and there is a lot of action. But structure-wise it's just brilliant. And the characters are really distinctly written. It was a chase movie that built a whole world around it. Meanwhile, "Ex Machina" had an innovative starting concept and then made a lot of overly safe choices.

Will Win: Spotlight
Should Win: Spotlight
Chris Cross: Mad Max: Fury Road for Ex Machina.

Actress in a Leading Role

Brie Larson of "Room" has been one of Hollywood's best-kept secrets for a while, and she's all lined up to become her generation's Hilary Swank, winning this award at a young age for a tiny picture, which will hopefully boost her into the sort of roles that Jennifer Lawrence or Carey Mulligan are getting now. Those of us who caught "Short Term 12" a few years back saw this day coming.

Her main competition is Cate Blanchett, a former winner with a great pedigree. Charlotte Rampling was a sentimental choice in a movie hardly anyone saw. "Joy" underperformed in box office and critical praise, so J. Law is probably on the sidelines this time. "Carol" got a lot of early buzz before anyone saw it, then they saw it, and the buzz died down.

Maggie Smith of "The Lady in the Van" and Charlize Theron of "Mad Max: Fury Road" deserved nods.

Will Win: Brie Larson
Should Win: Brie Larson
Chris Cross: The commanding Charlize Theron and the sublime Maggie Smith knock out Jennifer Lawrence and Cate Blanchett.

 

Actress in a Supporting Role

A busy category with no clear favorite. Kate Winslet would seem to be the front-runner, as a past multiple nominee and winner, and she was great in "Steve Jobs." And she took the Golden Globe. But Alicia Vikander won the Screen Actors Guild Award and seems to have the late momentum. Of course, hers was clearly a leading role, but we're used to shenanigans in category hopping by now. That could help and hurt her.

Coin flip. Most of the prognosticators are picking Vikander. I'll take the load less traveled and say Winslet.

My choice would be Rachel McAdams, who shined in a non-showy role.

Will Win: Kate Winslet
Should Win: Rachel McAdams
Chris Cross: Elizabeth Banks centered "Love &  Mercy," while Rooney Mara contributed to the overwrought snoozefest that is "Carol."

Actor in a Leading Role

Another easy call. Leonardo DiCaprio has been Hollywood royalty for two-plus decades. He's been nominated five times without winning, and probably had at least a couple other times he should've been. He's run the the table on the preliminary awards and seems to have this locked up. Like Paul Newman, he'll win not for the finest performance of his career but because "it's his time."

That's not a diss; Leo was indeed outstanding in "The Revenant," in a largely non-vocal role, which is a huge contrast to his filmography of fast talkers. Of those nominated, I would give the slight edge to Michael Fassbender, who played the myth rather than the man in "Steve Jobs."

My picks to win would be Jacob Tremblay of "Room" or Jason Segel for "The End of the Tour," but neither was nominated. Would've also loved to see nominations for Ian McKellen, Tom Hanks, Jesse Eisenberg, Paul Dano, Johnny Depp and Mark Ruffalo, but more love than nominations to go around.

Will Win: Leonardo DiCaprio
Should Win: Michael Fassbender
Chris Cross: Jacob Tremblay and Jason Segal replace Bryan Cranston and Eddie Redmayne.

Actor in a Supporting Role

Nearly always the busiest category with the most number of snubs, and this year's no different. The lack of nominations for Idris Elba of "Beasts of No Nation" and Michael Shannon of "99 Homes" really, really grates. Their films don't work without them. Essentially, they're the subjects of their movies and the protagonist is the object.

You could've also put up Paul Giamatti twice, for playing musical Svengalis in "Straight Outta Compton" and "Love & Mercy." Also dissed were Michael Keaton, Steve Carell, John Cusack (arguably a leading role), and a few others.

Of those nominated, Sylvester Stallone appears to be the strong sentimental pick. Capping off a great career and all that (so long as you conveniently forget long stretches of it). Mark Rylance is big in theater and kind of anonymous in film, so I don't expect the actors' wing to vote for him in great numbers. Tom Hardy was good in "The Revenant" but it was possibly his fourth best performance of the year. (If you count "Legend" as two, and I do.)

I would say Mark Ruffalo is the stalking horse here. Very respected actor who shifts easily between indies, mainstream dramas and now big-budget spectacles. He would be my pick of those nominated.

Will Win: Sylvester Stallone
Should Win: Mark Ruffalo
Chris Cross: Steve Carell, Michael Shannon and Idris Elba edge out Christian Bale, Tom Hardy and Mark Rylance.

 

Animated Feature

Despite being an outstanding movie year, it was a rather weak one for animated films and comedies. Disney/Pixar is seen as having kicked themselves out of a moribund funk with "Inside Out," after years of sequels and cut-rate rehashes. For my money I slightly preferred the heartfelt "The Good Dinosaur," which wasn't nominated. Meanwhile, the fun but utterly forgettable "Shaun the Sheep Movie" was.

My fellow Indiana critic adored "Anomalisa," but I felt it was weird and quirky for he sake of being weird and quirky. I think Charlie Kaufman, like George Lucas, works better as an idea and story man who hands off the nuts and bolts elsewhere.

I haven't seen the two foreign nominated films -- virtually no one has -- so I can't assess their quality.

Will Win: Inside Out
Should Win: Inside Out
Chris Cross: The Good Dinosaur for Shaun the Sheep Movie.

Foreign Language Film

Historically a tough category to pick as most of the nominees typically don't make it to U.S. theaters until long after the Oscars have been given out. "Son of Saul" has made a strong showing in the preliminary awards, and made my top 10 list.

Will Win: Son of Saul
Should Win: Son of Saul

Documentary Feature

"Amy" has this one all locked up, and deserves to.

Will Win: Amy
Should Win: Amy

Documentary Short

 I haven't seen any of these.


Will Win: A Girl in the River: The Prince of Forgiveness

Short Film (Animated)

I adored "Bear Story," but most people are predicting the darkly (very darkly) comedic "World of Tomorrow."

Will Win: World of Tomorrow
Should Win: Bear Story

Short Film (Live Action)

A very clear standout here imho.

Will Win: Shok
Should Win: Shok

 

Cinematography

The most important of the "minor" awards. The way a film is photographed has a major impact on how we react to it emotionally and intellectually. Take a look at "Son of Saul" for a prime example. I also adored the hauntingly beautiful "The Martian" among the snubees.

"The Revenant" seems to have this one in the bag, due to the oft-cited difficulty of shooting in a natural setting with extreme climate. I will take "Mad Max: Fury Road" for its great, grainy look and practical camera effects.

I love to rag on "Carol," but it was indeed an exquisite-looking film; indeed, the thrust of my complaint is that it's a pretty box with nothing inside. Robert Richardson managed to be quite inventive inside a confined space... but 19/20ths of "The Hateful Eight" still takes place inside a single room. If we're going to award brownie points to "Revenant" for degree of difficulty, we have to subtract for ease.

Will Win: The Revenant
Should Win: Mad Max: Fury Road
Chris Cross: The Martian and Son of Saul for Sicario and The Hateful Eight.

Costume Design

In a year with a strong favorite for Best Picture, many of the other categories tend to fall in line with wins whether they deserve them or not. That isn't the case this year, so people feel free to vote for what they thought was the truly most outstanding achievement in a given field -- a novel idea, that.

You'd think "The Danish Girl" would win here, since it's a story told largely through clothes. Most people are picking "Mad Max: Fury Road." I think it will go to "Carol."

Will Win: Carol
Should Win: The Danish Girl

Film Editing

The consensus seems to be that "Mad Max: Fury Road" is going to run the table on the "technical" awards, or close to it. I find little reason to disagree. Just a masterpiece of craftsmanship. Though I think "The Revenant" will pick off a few, mostly for its dense aural landscape.

Will Win: Mad Max: Fury Road
Should Win: Mad Max: Fury Road

Production Design 

Will Win: Mad Max: Fury Road
Should Win: Mad Max: Fury Road

Sound Mixing

Will Win: The Revenant
Should Win: Mad Max: Fury Road

Sound Editing

Will Win: The Revenant
Should Win: Mad Max: Fury Road

Visual Effects

Will Win: Mad Max: Fury Road
Should Win: Mad Max: Fury Road

Makeup and Hairstyling

Will Win: Mad Max: Fury Road
Should Win: Mad Max: Fury Road

Music (Original Song)

"Simple Song #3" was about the only thing I actually liked about "Youth." The fact that "Fifty Shades of Grey" has one more Oscar nomination than "Love & Mercy," "Mr. Holmes," "The End of the Tour" and many other outstanding films is worthy of Dante's Inferno-style damnation.

I think the Academy will go Gaga. At least Sam Smith's falsetto warbling, aka "Worst Bond Title Song Ever," won't win.

Will Win: Til It Happens To You from The Hunting Ground
Should Win: Til It Happens To You from The Hunting Ground

Music (Original Score)

This could be the most sentimental category of the night. You've got two film music legends, John  Williams and Ennio Morricone, going head-to-head. Despite this being his 50th nomination -- that's right, 5-0 -- Williams won't win because "Star Wars: The Force Awakens" simply builds on his already iconic music of nearly 40 years ago. "The Hateful Eight" is one of Morricone's most playful scores, if not among his very best -- though that's rarefied terrain indeed.

Having never won in five previous tries -- even being written off with the "We think you're done" honorary Oscar in 2007 -- this will finally be the 87-year-old Italian's time.

Will Win: The Hateful Eight
Should Win: The Hateful Eight

Review: "The Revenant"

I was not a fan of Alejandro González Iñárritu’s work on “Birdman,” which won the Academy Awards for Best Picture, screenplay and directing. I felt the filmmaker undermined Michael Keaton’s masterful performance with his (over)long takes and tracking shots. It stole our attention from the story and performance in favor of the direction, screaming “look at me!”

Iñárritu uses many of the same techniques in “The Revenant,” but much more modestly and effectively. In relating the harrowing story of a frontier trapper mauled by a bear and left for dead by his companions, the director employs his considerable skillset in service to the main character rather than for its own sake.

As Hugh Glass literally crawls hundreds of miles along the ground or plunges into angry icy rivers to escape those who would murder him, the camera work heightens his peril by making it a shared experience. It’s also one of Leonardo DiCaprio’s most compelling performances, and a largely wordless one.

The final result is an exemplary iteration of an old-school form of “you are there” adventure filmmaking that has seen a resurgence with films like “Gravity,” putting the audience right into the action next to the main character. I’m not sure if the film amounts to anything more than a grim and enthralling tale of existential survival, but I admired it for what it is.

Based on a true story, as translated by the “historical novel” by Michael Punke, the screenplay by Iñárritu and Mark L. Smith is narratively similar to last summer’s “Mad Max: Fury Road,” in that it begins right in the middle of the action and barely stops. Characters reveal their inner selves through their behavior, not speeches.

A trapping and hunting expedition led by Captain Henry (Domhnall Gleeson) is ambushed by American Indians who want the pelts for themselves – and resent the interlopers fouling their ancestral grounds. Also, the chief (a quietly powerful Duane Howard) searches for his daughter, kidnapped by white men.

Many are killed, but due to Glass’ level-headed leadership they manage to escape downriver, including his own teenage son Hawk (Forrest Goodluck), who is part Indian. Flashbacks and rumors divulge that Glass himself lived among the native people for many years, until his wife was killed by French soldiers. This does not endear him to his fellows.

Then Glass, the lead scout, is horrendously wounded when he chances upon a mother grizzly protecting her cubs. It’s hard stuff to watch as a man is tossed around like a rag doll, even harder when his clothes are removed to reveal ghastly rents in his flesh.

Glass seems sure to die, and John Fitzgerald, a self-serving member of the party played with morose charisma by Tom Hardy, urges them to put Glass out of his misery, as the Indians are still in pursuit. But Henry offers a large bounty to anyone who will stay behind with Glass until he dies, then give a proper burial.

Fitzgerald volunteers to join Hawk and another boy, Jim Bridger (Will Poulter), in guarding the man. But greed and fear lead to tragic results, and Glass wakes from his coma to find himself all alone, near death and without any tools or provisions. All he can do is scrape his bones along the rugged ground.

This section is just merciless to watch, a proud man reduced to a wasted expanse of bloody flesh and a few primordial instincts. At one point Glass finds some clean water to drink, but discovers that it leaks out of his torn throat before it can make its way down his gullet. He perseveres, and persists.

“The Revenant” is an enthralling film to look upon, nearly monochromatic and with a sort of spare, harsh beauty. I suspect this movie will divide audiences, many of whom will not care for its wintry tale of death and revenge. For those who can appreciate bleakness, it’s a haunting vision that lingers.

Video review: "The Wolf of Wall Street"

“No good movie is too long and no bad movie is short enough,” wrote Roger Ebert. I don’t entirely agree – I’ve seen plenty of worthy films that could’ve been improved with a nip and a tuck. Case in point: “The Wolf of Wall Street,” at 180 minutes, is occasionally self-indulgent and sprawling.

But it’s still a terrific film, one of the best of 2013. My guess is that people who were put off from seeing it in theaters due to its three-hour run time will cozy up to the latest handsome collaboration between Martin Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio, their fifth together, now that it’s out on video.

DiCaprio plays Jordan Belfort, a slick young stock broker who founds an investment firm dedicated to partying hard and snorting up commission fees from clients on questionable deals. Along with a handful of sycophantic collaborators, including a giddy Jonah Hill as his wingman, they set about to take Wall Street by storm.

This they do – but attracting the attentions of certain lawmen in the process. Jordan & Co. spend as much time hiding their antics from the public eye as they do chasing the almighty dollar.

“Wolf” careens all over the place between comedy and drama, cautionary tale and generous helpings of sex ‘n’ drugs. Much as Scorsese has often been accused of idolizing the gangsters so often featured in his movies, there’s no denying this film gleefully dives into a pool of debauchery.

It may be kind of a mess, and would probably be better if it were 15 or 20 minutes shorter, but it’s still one terrific cinematic ride.

Video features are a big disappointment. If you buy the DVD version, you get absolutely nothing – not even a theatrical trailer.

Spring for the Blu-ray combo pack and you add only “The Wolf Pack” – a series of interviews with Scorsese, cast and crew about making the film.

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Review: "The Wolf of Wall Street"

If it seems like "The Wolf of Wall Street" bears more than a passing resemblance to Martin Scorsese's masterpiece "Goodfellas," that's because it does. Both films follow similar themes in relating a first-person account of a young guy who stumbled into way more wealth and power than he deserved, and how he set about squandering it.

For Henry Hill, the mafia was his ladder up to the stratosphere of egomania and drug abuse; for Jordan Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio), it was the stock market.

This mostly-true story, based on Belfort's own book of the same title and translated by screenwriter Terence Winter, is a bacchanalia of drugs, hubris and debauchery. At three hours, it's a sprawling, untidy film that nevertheless often flirts with brilliance.

Tonally, the movie wanders this way and that, from raucous comedy to straight drama to fizzy caper and eventually into tragedy. But rather than being a film that seemingly can't decide what it wants to be, "Wolf" just opted to be everything at once -- and does a very good job at it.

Set in the late 1980s and 1990s, the story follows Belfort as he rises (or descends, depending on your perspective) in the world of stock trading. Wiped out as a young broker in the crash of '87, he latches onto the penny stock market, where the values are tiny but the potential for huge commissions is like dripping red meat to a slavering, greedy talent like himself.

Recruiting some of his buddies -- including a spot-on Jonah Hill as Donnie Azoff, his veneer-wearing, sycophantic right-hand man -- Jordan founds Stratton Oakmont, a firm with a name designed to appeal to old-money types who normally wouldn't have anything to do with shady characters like themselves.

It's an overnight success, and they start attracting a lot of attention for their wild spending and frat-boy antics. Such as the dwarf-tossing competition that first opens the movie, where Jordan throws $25,000 in cash on the ground as a bet.

Eventually, his operation attracts the notice of a dogged FBI investigator (Kyle Chandler) and the SEC. Jordan makes a show of wising up, even hiring his father (Rob Reiner) to be the office watchdog. He marries a beautiful model, Naomi, whom he dubs the Duchess of his sprawling empire, and then uses her poorly. She's played by Margot Robbie, who in the tradition of Scorsese leading ladies has a sweet exterior covering up a hard-bitten core.

Rounding out the cast are Jon Bernthal as a street thug Jordan sometimes uses for muscle; Jean Dujardin as a slimy Swiss banker; Joanna Lumley as Naomi's somewhat helpful British aunt; and Ethan Suplee, Kenneth Choi and Barry Rothbart as Jordan's lunkhead recruits.

Matthew McConaughey has a brief, kooky but delicious cameo as a seasoned broker who first instructs Jordan in what it takes to be successful in the stock trading game -- in short, a total disregard for others plus astonishing quantities of cocaine.

And there is plenty of both depicted in the movie. Scorsese has been criticized throughout his career for his reliance on violence, but with "Wolf" he trades in the gore for debauchery. He flaunts the sex-and-drugs material with the same relish he previously showed in beating people to a bloody pulp. There's enough nudity and kinky sex here to give "Blue Is the Warmest Color" a run for the title of most explicit Oscar contender this year.

Holding it all together is DiCaprio in his second magnificent performance of 2013, along with "The Great Gatsby." Callous yet charismatic, Jordan is a Quaalude-dropping, prostitute-hording, filthy-mouthed messiah to those who follow him. Making money is their first, and only priority in life. That, and a good party.

While some might be put off by the length and subject matter of “The Wolf of Wall Street,” it’s another career high point for both Martin Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio, and one of the year’s finest films. I’m betting they just might work together again, if they can pay dividends as good as these.

Video review: "The Great Gatsby"

Previous film adaptations of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel have been largely passionless affairs, pretty pictures with handsome people, behaving badly bloodlessly. Whatever one thinks of director Baz Luhrmann (“Moulin Rouge”), his films throb with energy and urgency, and his take on “The Great Gatsby” is no different.

It’s an uneven picture, occasionally head-scratching but always engaging.

You probably know the story: at the height of the Roaring Twenties, mysterious millionaire Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio) sets up shop at a mansion on a Long Island lake that is the dividing line between old money families and the nouveau riche. Penniless bond trader Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) is his next-door neighbor and confidante, who becomes enlisted in Gatsby’s quest to ingratiate himself with his cousin Daisy Buchanan (Carey Mulligan), a spoiled socialite on the opposite shore.

Gatsby throws lavish parties every weekend attended by all the New York rich, trying to lure the attention of Daisy, with whom he has a past. But she’s married to Tom, a brutish snob who views her as his property and Gatsby as the upstart trying to pilfer it.

Luhrmann co-wrote the script with Craig Pearce, which does a better job than other cinematic adaptations at finding the flesh-and-blood people underneath Fitzgerald’s feather-light characterizations. DiCaprio makes Gatsby a compelling figure, a man wrapped in self-delusion in pursuit of something pure. It’s not just Daisy he’s reaching for, but a vision of himself that is hopeful.

Whether you loved the novel or suffered through it in school, “The Great Gatsby” has never leapt off the page quite like this.

Video features are decent, with a handful of deleted scenes and a half-dozen featurettes focusing on various aspects of production, including the fashion, music and legacy of the 1920s.

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Review: "The Great Gatsby"

Audacious, ostentatious and ambitious, "The Great Gatsby" is a big, raw pitching prospect of a movie. It'll throw amazing curveballs and fastballs that will leave you dazzled as they fly past -- and then hurl a few into the stands that will leave you scratching your head.

For me, the wonderment outweighed the puzzlement, though others may feel F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic book still defies cinematic adaptation after a half-dozen attempts.

The one thing that's injected in this version by director Baz Luhrmann ("Moulin Rouge") and his cast that was sorely missing from previous iterations is passion. Luhrmann, who co-wrote the script with Craig Pearce, seems to have taken well the lesson of the last big "Gatsby" film in 1974, which was beautiful but bloodless.

Luhrmann, known for over-the-top visual orgies and jumpy editing, mostly restrains his wilder instincts and uses his considerable craftsmanship in the service of the story, rather than just going on a bender for its own sake. Of course, he can't resist slipping in a rollicking musical number or two, but the moment doesn't linger overlong.

Fitzgerald's book, foisted by educators on an indifferent teenage audience for decades, is not so much a story of flesh-and-blood characters as a condemnation of an age. Published at the height of the Roaring '20s, it took a cynical view of the careless rich at a time when fun was flounced.

You may already know the main players. Nick Carraway, a poor young bond trader who moves to the posh Long Island enclave of the newly wealthy. Tobey Maguire does a better job than previous actors in bringing the story's narrator/voyeur to life, describing himself as "guarding other people's secrets, living both within and without" his neighbors' decadent lifestyles.

Daisy Buchanan, Nick's carefree cousin and "beautiful little fool," played by Carey Mulligan. Her husband, Tom (Joel Edgerton), is an old-money brute, who guards Daisy like a cherished relic while fooling around on her with the local mechanic's wife, Myrtle (Isla Fisher).

And Leonardo DiCaprio plays the titular Jay Gatsby, the mysterious millionaire who owns the mansion next door to Nick's cottage, throwing lavish parties every weekend that he never attends. He surprises Nick with a rare invitation and a rarer introduction, followed by more personal overtures -- all in an attempt to ingratiate himself with Daisy, with whom he has a history.

Luhrmann and Pearce take liberties with Fitzgerald's text, moving characters and settings around freely, even introducing a framing device in a sanitarium. I think perhaps, though, they didn't go far enough. They should have jettisoned characters who only serve to deliver exposition and disappear, such as world-weary golfer Jordan Baker (Elizabeth Debicki). And several extraneous sequences decelerate an already too-long 142 minutes.

It's a gorgeous picture, stocked with gleaming palaces and growling cars, magnificent costumes and makeup -- DiCaprio's face glows like a burnished sun -- plus glimmering CGI renditions of 1920s New York City.

Despite its unevenness, what made this "Gatsby" a success for me was the way the film brings Gatsby into clearer focus in a way other adaptations haven't managed. DiCaprio and Luhrmann pull the shroud back on Gatsby's elaborate disguise to reveal a man of desperate yearnings, who deludes himself in a quest for something pure. It's not just Daisy he's pursuing, but a vision of himself that is hopeful -- something that stands in stark contrast to the sclerotic myopia of the Buchanans of the world.

"He stood before us, concealing an incorruptible dream," Nick intones. "The Great Gatsby" is occasionally dissonant, but its message rings strong and true.

Video review: "Django Unchained."

Quentin Tarantino has always been a filmmaker who believed in making his films as entertaining as possible, though in recent years it seemed like the person he was most trying to entertain was himself.

His latest, the quasi-Western “Django Unchained,” is his most accessible film since “Pulp Fiction,” a purely delightful frolic that’s equal parts gleeful revenge fantasy, anti-slavery jeremiad and comedy of manners.

Jamie Foxx plays the title character, a beaten-down slave who’s given a second chance at life when he’s rescued by King Schultz (Christoph Waltz), a courtly little German who impersonates a traveling dentist but is actually a bounty killer.

(“Bounty hunter” is not really accurate, since Schultz only pursues men wanted dead or alive, and always opts for the former.)

Schultz enlists his help, in return for tutoring the slave as his protégé. They have lots of freewheeling adventures, mostly involving gunning down Neanderthal white villains while trading quips. One sequence has them going up against nascent KKK thugs, who debate the efficacy of riding a horse while wearing a sack with tiny eyeholes.

Eventually they get down to the real business at hand: rescuing Django’s wife (Kerry Washington) from a bucolic plantation named Candieland.

The owner, Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio), is a symbol of genteel Southern rot, his elegantly coiffed exterior hiding an inner moral decay mirrored by his head house slave, Steven (Samuel L. Jackson), who views the uppity Django as upending the proper order of things.

Hysterically funny one moment and bursting with blood-soaked violence the next, “Django Unchained” is a giddy absurdist romp.

Alas, video extras are a mite on the sparse side. There are four featurettes focusing on the costumes, stunts, production design and soundtrack of the film, plus a promo for a Tarantino Blu-ray collection.

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Review: "Django Unchained"

"Django Unchained" may just be Quentin Tarantino's most purely entertaining film since ... ever.

This revisionist Western mixes elements of Tarantino's beloved grindhouse exploitative violence, slow-fuse dramatic scenes building up to major bloodlettings and de rigueur juxtapositions of funky modern songs against classic genre backdrops.

It's a daffy, loopy jaunt that doesn't really add up to anything more than a good time. But what a good time it is. I don't think I've enjoyed a Tarantino movie this much since "Pulp Fiction."

With this revenge story/anti-slavery rant, the quirky writer/director feels like he's finally settled into a rhythm where he's not just trying to recreate the tawdry D-list flicks adored in his youth, but actually crafting something original that connects with an audience. With the dense, sprawling "Inglourious Basterds" and other recent work, it often seemed like he was making movies only for his own self-satisfaction.

The result is lighter and groovier, one that more fully embraces Tarantino's dark, puckish sense of humor. The first half of this nearly three-hour film is more or less pure comedy. One standout is a bit where a group of precursor KKK thugs argue about the efficacy of riding around in hoods with eyeholes cut in them, a scene that would have felt right at home tucked in the middle of "Blazing Saddles."

The plot is straightforward. Django (Jamie Foxx, in full cooler-than-thou mode) is a former runaway slave who's rescued by an oddball bounty hunter named Dr. King Schultz, who needs his help identifying three brothers on his hit list.

In exchange, Schultz agrees take on Django as his protégé and help him rescue his wife Hildy (Kerry Washington) from servitude. She was bought up and packed off to Candieland, a seemingly idyllic Mississippi plantation lorded over by the superficially genteel Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio).

Schultz is played by Christoph Waltz, who had an Oscar-winning turn in "Basterds" and is equally good here. Tarantino wrote a great part for him, and Waltz runs away with a subtle, refined performance. Schultz is a German who used to be a dentist, and still rides around in a coach capped with a giant tooth on a spring. He likes to think of himself as cold-hearted and mercenary, but Schultz is repulsed by the way blacks are treated in the South of 1858.

Though at least he's honest enough to admit the similarities with his own trade, killing men for rewards. "Like slavery, it's a flesh for cash business," he purrs.

It's fun watching Django quickly evolve from timid slave to trash-talking killer who loves nothing more than putting white folks in their place ... preferably, in a hole in the ground. He acquires the skills of quick-draw shootist, seemingly overnight, and soon sets to putting them to good use.

The villains are a virtual parade of slovenly caricatures, festooned with facial hair and Neanderthal attitudes toward slaves. "Django" must set some sort of dubious record for the most uses of the n-word in a film. Tarantino, though, seems neither afraid nor enamored with the word, simply putting it in his characters' mouths as it would have been employed pre-Civil War.

Things really get rolling when Django and Schultz meet Calvin, and lure him in with a bogus story about buying one of his prize Mandingo gladiators for an outlandish sum. The matched fights to the death, which hold all the glamour of cockfighting with humans, give lie to Calvin's courtly manors.

DiCaprio is both a hoot and a horror, playing a man who not only embodies these contradictions, but fails to even recognize them.

Samuel L. Jackson also has a nice turn as Steven, the head of Calvin's slaves who's been a thrall to depravity so long it's seeped into his soul.

The long Candieland sequence -- basically the last half of the film -- is an exercise in patiently setting the pot to simmer. Schultz and Calvin engage in a match of manners, while the latter is intrigued by the surly Django's barely concealed insults and bad attitude. We know it's all mounting up to the gunfight to end all gunfights -- replete with geysers of blood -- but we don't mind because Tarantino's buildup is almost more fun than the blowout.

The movie occasionally lapses into self-indulgence, as with a late unnecessary scene involving an Australian mining company, with Tarantino himself playing one of the heavies (and employing quite possibly the worst Aussie accent in the history of cinema). It's an amusing bit, but it doesn't fit with the rest.

Still, "Django Unchained" is a witty, brash mix-up of Old West trappings and modern cool.

3.5 stars out of four

Video review: "J. Edgar"

For a biopic about one of the most polarizing political figures of the 20th century, “J. Edgar” is a curiously flat affair. It’s got great production values, a standout performance by Leonardo DiCaprio, and generally feels like a great big chunk of Hollywood ham.

The central thesis of screenwriter Dustin Lance Black and director Clint Eastwood is that J. Edgar Hoover, who wielded enormous power for five decades as head of the FBI, was secretly a closeted gay man who carried on a lifelong chaste love affair with Clyde Tolson, his best friend and right-hand man.

This may or may not be true – the historical evidence for Hoover’s alleged homosexuality is sketchy at best. Those who knew him best say his relationship with Tolson was close but brotherly. And the now-ubiquitous characterization of his penchant for cross-dressing is based on an account of a single event by a convicted perjurer.

But the great truth the filmmakers miss is that even if Hoover was attracted to men, this would be the least interesting thing about him as a person.

The story slips forward and backward in time, portraying how Hoover’s passion for collecting secrets, and leveraging them to gain political power, was his way of misdirecting others from exposing his own (as he saw them) weaknesses.

Some of the supporting roles seem oversized, while others are desperately short-shrifted. The most notable is Helen Gandy (Naomi Watts), whom young Hoover proposed marriage to on their third date. She demurred, but agreed to become his personal secretary, a position she would hold for the next five decades.

Gandy is omnipresent but unimportant, someone who lurks in the background until the filmmakers feel a need for Hoover to have a moment of self-reflection.

“J. Edgar” is a fine-looking movie and generally well-acted. But ultimately the film employs the underhanded tactics of its subject: using shadowy whisperings about Hoover's personal life to paint a skewed portrait of his public one.

Video extras are the same for Blu-ray and DVD editions, and are limited to a single featurette, “J. Edgar: The Most Powerful Man in the World.”

Movie: 2 stars out of four
Extras: 1.5 stars

Review: "J. Edgar"

"J. Edgar" is a curiously flat biopic for one of the most polarizing figures of the 20th century. J. Edgar Hoover was either one of the greatest innovators in the field of law enforcement or a power-mad tyrant, depending on who you ask. Clint Eastwood's new drama tends more toward the latter than the former, though it seems clear the great director has some admiration, or at least healthy respect, for Hoover's perseverance and resolve.

No one who becomes the head of a federal agency while still in his 20s, and remains in that post for nearly 50 years, transforming the very face of law enforcement in the process, can be easily dismissed.

The film's period production values are stupendous, seamlessly transitioning from 1919 to the early 1970s without ever missing a beat of authenticity. The suits, cars, decor and more appear spiffy and spot-on without screaming 'look at me.'

The make-up used to transform Leonardo DiCaprio into Hoover is also pretty spectacular. The actor bears little resemblance to the real man, but by giving him woolly hair, a thickening of the middle (some weight gain by DiCaprio augmented by padding, methinks) and enlarging his pupils, they manage to suggest the essence of Hoover without attempting a rote imitation.

DiCaprio's performance is solid, too, portraying a man driven to continually find fault in others as a defense mechanism for avoiding confrontation with his own weaknesses. There's even a scene suggesting that young Johnny Hoover stammered as a child, and acquired his iconic rapid-fire speech pattern through endless drills to correct his stutter. His mother (Judi Dench) appears in fits and starts, as a devout woman who pushed her son in ways subtle and not-so-subtle to always strive for more.

I cannot say I think much of the central theme of Dustin Lance Black's screenplay, which is that Hoover was a closeted gay who had a lifelong platonic love affair with Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer), his number two at the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Tolson is portrayed as a fairly progressive and self-aware gay man, who acknowledges his feelings for Edgar to himself even as he is savvy enough to realize he can't do so publicly.

There's one big scene where Tolson throws a fairly extreme hissy fit when Hoover tells him he's thinking of marrying an actress, and they have a fistfight while dressed in their nightclothes that turns into a make-out session and a huge emotional explosion. It's a bold scene, full of energy and exuberance, and feels like total bullshit.

The historical case that Hoover was homosexual is sketchy at best -- he and Tolson spent most of their meals and vacations together, etc. Most biographies say no, and Mark Felt, the number three man at the FBI (who later revealed himself to be the infamous "Deep Throat" to Woodward & Bernstein) insisted their affection was genuine but brotherly.

The whole cross-dressing thing -- which is absurdly addressed in a scene where Hoover mourns in his mother's dress after her death -- is likely a figment. It was based on an account by one woman, a notorious socialite who was a convicted perjurer, but has managed to seep into the communal consciousness as truth.

Personally, I don't find it very interesting to explore if J. Edgar Hoover was gay or not. Even if he did secretly favor men, it would be the least interesting thing about him as a person. The secretive, power-hungry figure who dangled presidents and others wandering the corridors of power on a string is so compelling a subject, the matter of who he slept with pales in comparison.

Eastwood and Black spend most of the first part of the movie exploring this towering figure, and the bulk of the latter half doting on the gay question. The timeline jumps around liberally, with a lot of too-clever jump cuts showing young Hoover and Tolson stepping into an elevator, and their older selves exiting, etc.

"J. Edgar" is a fine-looking movie, and generally well-acted, too. Though some parts seem oversized, others are desperately short-shrifted. The most notable is Helen Gandy (Naomi Watts), whom young Hoover admired for her organizational skills and proposed marriage to on their third date. She demurred, but agreed to become his personal secretary, a position she would hold for the next five decades.

Gandy is omnipresent but unimportant, someone who lurks in the background until the filmmakers feel a need for Hoover to have a moment of self-reflection. Then Gandy is trotted in with her Steno pad and concerned expression to facilitate some convenient emoting.

My problem with this movie is it wants to exploit the shadowy whisperings about Hoover's personal life to paint a skewed portrait of his public one. Rumors, guilt by association and fleeting, surreptitious observations are an unreliable way to truly know a man. It's notable that these are the same sort of under-handed tactics Hoover himself used to gain and leverage power to wield according to his own interpretation of morality.

2 stars out of four

Video review: "Shutter Island"

"Shutter Island" is a mystery wrapped in an enigma, accompanied by a relentlessly over-the-top musical score. We know from the get-go that the movie is playing mind games with us, and we don't need to have read the novel by Dennis Lehane to figure out pretty early on what the end game will be.

It's never a good thing when an audience knows where a story is going, and waits around for the film to catch up. Director Martin Scorsese and his cast pile on the atmospherics, the 1950s clothes and cars, so at least the waiting room is pleasant to look at.

Leonardo DiCaprio, in his third outing with Scorsese, plays Teddy Daniels, a U.S. Marshall assigned to investigate the disappearance of a patient from Ashcliff, a prison for the criminally insane on a forbidding island in Boston Harbor.

Teddy's got a new partner, Chuck (Mark Ruffalo), with whom he quickly forms a hard-boiled bond. But nothing on the island is what it seems. Like an endless ball of yarn, the more of the mystery Chuck and Teddy unspool, the more confusing things continue to get.

They suspect the doctors are performing heartless experiments on the mentally ill. The prim head doctor (Ben Kingsley), is less than forthcoming with personnel files, and the patients have clearly been coached in their answers.

The music is omnipresent in the film, to the point of becoming comedic. When Chuck and Teddy first arrive at the facility's steel-and-brick compound, the score reaches an incredible volume of surging minor chords. They say film scores should be felt but not heard; this one not only intrudes into the foreground, it wants to be the life of the party.

"Shutter Island" feels like an exercise in mood manipulation. The film doesn't draw its audience in, but treats them like something to be experimented upon.

Video extras are rather measly -- the DVD version comes with nada.

Even the Blu-ray boasts only two bonus features: "Beyond the Shutters," a standard making-of documentary, and "Into the Lighthouse," a discussion of 1950s-era psychiatric therapies.

Movie: 2 stars
Extras: 2 stars

Review: "Hubble 3D"

There's a moment in "Hubble 3D," the new IMAX film, that may make you gnaw your fingernails down to the stubs. Two astronauts, working for hours in bulky spacesuits, are working inside the guts of the Hubble Telescope to effect some tricky repairs.

One tiny slip among the delicate circuit boards and lenses, and Hubble's billions of dollars worth of technology is instantly transformed into so many pounds of space junk. It's especially poignant because the May 2009 mission is one of the final flights for the NASA space shuttle program.

Faced with budget cuts, NASA officials at first were just going to let Hubble -- which has been projecting amazing images from space for nearly two decades -- rot in orbit. A legislative push got the funds for a final mission to repair and upgrade Hubble.

"Hubble 3D" is the result of that blessedly successful endeavor. Writer/director Toni Myers -- and IMAX veteran -- splits the 43-minute film into alternating segments chronicling the mission to repair Hubble, shot by the astronauts themselves, and wading through the resulting images of their work.

Presented in drop-your-jaw 3D, both sets of images make for a fascinating and engaging journey into space.

Narrated by Leonardo DiCaprio, "Hubble" occasionally wanders into self-serving grandiosity: DiCaprio describes the launch mission for the telescope as setting "the great eagle" adrift "to soar in orbit." But the view is so breathtaking, that dollop of schmaltz doesn't detract for long.

The astronauts, with their all-American can-do spirit, might come across as caricatures, except that they're so serious and focused on their mission that we find it impossible to feel anything but empathy for their dedication.

"Now I know why surgeons go 'Yoo-hoo!' when they pull something out," one says after completing seven hours of difficult repairs. At least surgeons can scratch their noses.
Then there's the exploration through the vastness of the universe, which the 3D images translate into a virtual expedition.

As we watch whole galaxies whiz by and dive deep into the Orion Nebula -- ''a nursery for stars'' -- the experience is not unlike sitting in the captain's chair aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise, with our commands sending us hurtling in whatever direction we want.

"Hubble 3D" is an IMAX film that stokes our twin passions for technology and exploration. Time to boldly go.

3.5 stars

Review: "Shutter Island"

"Shutter Island" is a mystery wrapped in an enigma, accompanied by a relentlessly over-the-top musical score. We know from the get-go that the movie is playing mind games with us, and we don't need to have read the novel by Dennis Lehane to figure out pretty early on what the end game will be.

It's never a good thing when an audience knows where a story is going, and waits around for the film to catch up. Director Martin Scorsese and his cast pile on the atmospherics, the 1950s clothes and cars, so at least the waiting room is pleasant to look at.

Early in my career, I eschewed talking with other people who had seen the movie I'd just watched, worried about inadvertently plagiarizing. Lately I've taken to exchanging views with my fellow Indianapolis critics after a screening. We all know each other, so nobody's offended when there are disagreements. If someone says something brilliant, the others are polite enough to let him/her keep it without copycatting.

After "Shutter Island," a half-dozen of us sat around looking at each other, struggling to come up with anything to say. No one seemed blown away by the movie. Nobody really hated it, either. Joe Shearer enumerated some continuity errors that others had also noted but I hadn't, suggesting it was a deliberate attempt to comment on the characters' fractured state of mind.

About the only thing we all agreed on was that this is the sort of movie that requires several viewings to fully digest.

Leonardo DiCaprio, in his third outing with Scorsese, plays Teddy Daniels, a U.S. Marshall assigned to investigate the disappearance of a patient from Ashcliff, a prison for the criminally insane on a forbidding island in Boston Harbor. The facility, nicknamed Shutter Island, is brimming with beefy security guards toting high-powered rifles, who eye Daniels warily as he disembarks from the ferry -- the only way on or off the island.

Teddy's got a new partner, Chuck, played by Mark Ruffalo. They quickly form a hard-boiled detective trust, although it's clear Teddy isn't telling Chuck everything. Over time, we get a few tidbits: An arsonist named Laeddis (Elias Koteas) who burned down an apartment building, killing Teddy's wife Dolores (Michelle Williams), is secretly being held at Ashcliff. In response to Chuck's worried looks, Teddy promises he's not there to kill Laeddis.

The facility is run by a prim doctor, Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley), who is less than forthcoming with personnel files and other information necessary for the marshals' investigation. The staff is squirrely, and the patients have obviously been coached in their answers. The warden (Ted Levine) seems ready to engage Teddy in mortal combat at the drop of a hat.

Topping things off, one of the doctors appears to be an ex-Nazi -- which doesn't sit well with Teddy, who as a soldier helped liberate Dachau and saw first-hand the brutality there. (The doc is played by Max von Sydow, I guess with the notion that American audiences can't tell the difference between Swedish and German accents.)

Like an endless ball of yarn, the more of the mystery Teddy and Chuck unspool, the more confusing things continue to get. They suspect the doctors are performing heartless experiments on the mentally ill. A former patient, George Noyce (Jackie Earle Haley), who after his release tipped Teddy off about the goings-on at Ashcliff, turns up in one of the dungeons, beaten to a pulp. Teddy's migraines, usually accompanied by visions of Dolores warning him about dangers ahead, grow more frequent.

I can't give away more, but by this point most audience members will have figured things out for themselves.

The music is omnipresent in the film, to the point of becoming comedic. When Chuck and Teddy first arrive at the facility's steel-and-brick compound, the score reaches an incredible volume of surging minor chords. I'm guessing Scorsese and music supervisor Robbie Robertson were going for something, but I confess I don't know what it is. They say film scores should be felt but not heard; this one not only intrudes into the foreground, it wants to be the life of the party.

"Shutter Island" is an expertly-made movie that left me at times exasperated, but occasionally intrigued. It feels like an exercise in mood manipulation, with the entire plot operating as a MacGuffin to set up scenes of squirm-inducing paranoia. This film doesn't draw its audience in, but treats them like something to be experimented upon.

2.5 stars