Review: "The Public"

One of the most vicious aspects of Hollywood is how cyclical it is. You can be on top one moment, a nobody seemingly the next. This dynamic is especially cruel to actors, who rely on good looks and vitality more than their behind-the-camera colleagues.

Even those performers who "make it" can often only enjoy a high-profile stint of maybe five to 10 years. In a blink of an eye, you've been relegated to "whatever happened to" status.

Emilio Estevez had about that long of a run, and today's he's known mostly as brother of Charlie or son of Martin. But he's been quietly working this whole time, steadily of not frequently, gradually seguing into producing, directing and writing.

His newest project, and his first acting gig in six years, is "The Public," which he also wrote and directed. It's a heartfelt drama about a meek library worker who finds himself caught up in an ad-hoc protest by homeless men. It's not a great movie, but it's a solid one and worthy of your attention.

He plays Stuart Goodson, a nebbishy supervisor at the downtown Cincinnati public library. Like a lot of big-city libraries or other public institutions, it doubles as a place for the homeless, the elderly and the unwanted to hang out. Some come to read, some to use the computers, many just for a comfy place out of the elements.

Stuart and the other staff take it all in stride -- part knowledge custodian, part social worker. Stuart's coworker on the social studies level is Myra (Jena Malone), a young woman who likes to advocate for environmental causes. They banter playfully if chastely, though there's a tension in that she's continually put in for a transfer to the art and literature department.

Jeffrey Wright plays the boss, Anderson, fretting over budgets and rules. You know he's a tight-ass because he wears a bow tie.

His latest headache is the library is being sued for $750,000 by a mentally ill homeless man who was evicted because of his powerful body odor. The city prosecutor, Josh Davis (Christian Slater), talks down to everyone involved, including Ernesto (Jacob Vargas), who along with Stuart threw the guy out.

Davis is running for mayor, and he gets involved when the homeless men, tired of risking the bitter cold every night when the shelters are full. It's a typical bureaucratic prick role, but Slater has some moves as a privileged man who thinks he's doing the right thing while always keeping his eye on the next job.

(Prosecutors don't actually get involved with civil lawsuits or police hostage negotiations, but I won't quibble.)

The homeless guys aren't looking to do a civil disobedience thing -- it's just damn cold and they don't want anymore of their numbers to freeze to death. They're worked up beacause believe their friend Caesar, who can quote historical trivia all day long, is missing and they fear he's the latest to succumb to the cold. The group is led by Jackson (Michael Kenneth Williams), a veteran who likes to tease Stuart a bit about his bleeding heart.

Alec Baldwin plays Bill Ramstead, the police detective brought in to conduct the negotiations. He's got his own issue with a strung-out son he's been out looking for, and you'd have to be pretty dim to not see that one coming.

Taylor Schilling is Angela, the erstwhile building manager where Stuart lives, the sort of gorgeous women who populate movies and like to put the moves on quiet, introverted men and get them into bed, because that is totally a real thing that happens in life.

The movie strangely loses steam right around the time the protest begins, though things pick up as it goes along and becomes a media sensation. Gabrielle Union plays Rebecca, the TV reporter who only cares about getting a good story, whether or not it's the right one. She plays up the scenario as a hostage situation instead of a bunch of tired, scared men demanding a warm place to sleep.

Stuart throws in with the protesters and gets pegged as the ringleader, so he's the one who negotiates with Ramstead and trades quips with Davis.

The film ends on a strange note, which I'll not reveal here, other than I defy anyone to see it coming. "The Public" is a little bit of "Dog Day Afternoon" meets the Nick Nolte movie "Teachers" and a few other pieces thrown in. It's got a fine cast and a story to tell, and as long as you've got something to say you're never a has-been.

Review: "The 33"

“The 33” is one of those movies that delivers everything you expect, does it well, and suffers no surprises. The true tale of the 2010 Chilean mining disaster that left 33 men trapped thousands of feet underground in a gold mine, it’s uplifting, humanistic and harrowing (though not too much).

Directed by Patricia Riggen (“Girl in Progress”) with a screenplay by Mikko Alanne, Craig Borten and Michael Thomas, based on a book by Hector Tobar, the film goes for verisimilitude as we alternate between being buried deep in the mine with the workers or scrambling with the rescuers and family members on the surface striving to free them.

Of course, we know that all the men got out safely after an incredible 69 days trapped underground. This was a huge international story at the time, and even if it weren’t, we’re told from the outset that 33 men were trapped, so if some of them died the title would’ve reflected a lower number. (And, most likely, this movie wouldn’t exist.)

What makes it a great story is that normally all of the miners would’ve perished, but miraculously every one of them made it out alive.

Antonio Banderas plays Mario Sepúlveda, the unofficial leader of the trapped miners. He’s a wise man who recognizes that the greatest danger they face is not the lack of food and water but each other. He carefully rations their meals and breaks up fights before they happen, counseling patience even as others edge up to wigging out.

If the presence of a Spanish actor playing a Chilean bothers you, then you should know the cast is a mishmash of actors of different ethnic backgrounds. Lou Diamond Phillips, who is Scotch-Irish, Cherokee and Filipino, plays the foreman, Luis, who tortures himself over the inadequate safety protections in place in the mine. Other performers are of Mexican, Cuban, Brazilian or other Latino heritage.

There are also some lily white actors such as Bob Gunton, who plays the Chilean president, and Gabriel Byrne, a pale Irishman who portrays the chief engineer overseeing the rescue. Though Chile is more racially diverse than most Americans realize, with roughly half the DNA being of European origin, or so says Wikipedia.

Obviously, you can’t have 33 characters competing for screen time, so the filmmakers focus on a half-dozen or so, with Mario being the first among equals. The other “focus” miners break down into familiar archetypes: the old guy who’s already filed his retirement papers; the young guy who’s about to have a baby; the new guy who’s not from around here and gets heckled for it; the wayward guy battling addiction; the philanderer who’s got a wife and mistress fighting over him on the surface; the religious fellow who offers the others comfort; the Elvis admirer with the outsize personality and temper; and so on.

Up top the families, mostly women, caterwaul and demand action. Juliette Binoche, despite being estranged from her brother (the addict), becomes the de facto leader aboveground just as Mario is the authority figure below. Rodrigo Santoro plays the young government minister sent to talk soothingly and hold hands, but actually tries to make a difference.

The heart of the movie, of course, is what it’s like to be trapped deep in a mine with little hope for survival, slowly wasting away as fears eat into your mind. It’s powerful stuff, with Banderas showing how emotionally accessible he is as an actor.

The best scene is a shared dream/delusion as the men consume the last of their food, as each hallucinates being presented with some bodacious meal by his loved ones. The darkness recedes, it’s all light and joy, as each miner sits at a long table like a recreation of the Last Supper with Jesus and his apostles.

(Though, I am pained to point out, the actors don’t appear to have starved themselves very much for the movie. For a bunch of guys supposedly wasting away, they’re a rather fleshy bunch. I think fat Elvis actually got fatter. Though I guess if you’re going to do that sort of thing you need to either go Full Bale or not bother, and they chose the latter.)

It’s a terrific bit of imagination, both inside the miners’ heads and on the part of those telling the story. “The 33” could’ve done with more of this, but instead sticks to the safe path.