Foxcatcher

Raging Bullshit. Muted autumn colours. Long pauses between sentences. Mostly slow movements by the generally aloof camera. Absolutely no humour. Miller’s arduous effort to let us know how serious a social-psychological drama (sport is a narrative pretext rather than a necessity) he has made leads not only to a stifling atmosphere, but also to awkwardness in the storytelling (Capote at least had a title character with a sense of humour). Only a perceived tragedy prevents us from laughing at the prosthetic nose (often shown in profile) worn by Du Pont, who divides his time between shopping for tanks, birdwatching and rigged fights with broad-shouldered men in their fifties. Mark serves as a dramaturgical device for humanising the monstrous billionaire and he shares with his new patron an unfulfilled longing for approval (whether from his mother, brother or nation), while allowing us to take a more forgiving view of Du Pont’s eccentric behaviour. Miller uses the two men’s tense relationship as a means of giving us a look into the dark alleys of Reagan’s (triumphalist) America, as well as for a universal reflection on the attractive image that the United States creates of itself (media manipulation is one of the key thematic storylines in the climax). Du Pont personifies a degenerate version of America’s veneration of winners. His victories are shaky constructs that he himself doesn’t much believe in and serve only to satisfy his frustrated ego. He callously removes from his path everything that distorts his image of his own perfection and leads Mark to engage in the same behaviour. Mark’s withdrawal from the world of small pleasures and warm interpersonal relationships, from the world represented by his brother, usually surrounded by gregarious company, in reminiscent of the transformation of Damon’s character in Behind the Candelabra. As Scott Thorston was for Liberace, Mark is just another trophy for Du Pont, another actor in a performance that the more experienced of the two men stages in order to enhance his own prestige. Foxcatcher is not a film that I would “enjoy” or “savour”, but I did find that it contained some thought-provoking ideas not only as an anti-Rocky examination of 1980s “USA! USA!” patriotism, but also as a commentary on class inequality. 75% (28.03.2015)

I wasn’t over the moon about this. On the contrary, Foxcatcher was a disappointment. It does tell a story based on true events, which had a potential to be very interesting, but it tells it so impersonally that I didn’t know what to think. During the film, I was terribly bored, watched the totally mediocre Channing and wondered what it would look like with a different actor, because Channing is terribly emotionless here. Steve Carell, on the other hand, proves that he can be something other than just a crazy comedian, by which he won me over. The same goes for Mark Ruffalo who delivered an absolutely perfect performance. The worst thing, however, was that everybody in the movie was unpleasant, negative and didn’t radiate any positive emotion. It’s really hard to watch a story like this. (06.02.2015)

An untraditional sports thriller with a cast that suits it perfectly. Tatum as the “ungrateful monkey" gives the performance of his life and Carell is just plain nasty. The sparring itself is dark and absorbing also thanks to the music. I enjoyed watching the classic patriotic sports promo turn into a terrifying thriller about two wrecks who lose their marbles. Perfect directing, Miller is an old hand. Again it applies that it’s ideal not to know more about it than appeared in the trailer. (12.01.2015)

A film almost without music, big gestures, and last-minute action. It relies on the fact that it will be watched by an experienced viewer who will let it resonate and sink in slowly and calmly, along with the theme it addresses. Lately, these slightly minimalist, raw, taciturn and emotionally charged sports films have been extremely popular (Moneyball), and this one too had an Oscar buzz. Unfortunately, the slow pace and stereotypes were an unforgiving companion throughout the entire 130 minutes. (11.07.2015)

I somehow I didn't manage to grasp the meaning of what the film was trying to say, and I don't understand why it’s more than two hours long. It's not about nothing, the story is based on real events (I hope you can hear the irony) and embraces themes of desire, moral and sporting decline, brotherly love and murder, but the film as a whole is terribly disjointed and its ambiguous ideas are arranged in a downright chaotic manner. For those two hours, we watch the stubborn oaf Tatum from the point of view of the disturbed millionaire Carell, waiting with growing impatience to see how their relationship will develop and culminate, but nothing actually happens. Nothing from the point of view of the script, which fails to build up, and nothing from the point of view of the actors, who, with the exception of Ruffalo, go through the story with unchanging expressions, giving the viewer no opportunity for any emotional experience. A noble borefest packed with famous names that I really don't want to see again. (22.02.2015)

I was looking forward to excellent performances by the actors, and I certainly got them, from all three actors on the poster. Mark Ruffalo was the best, although Steve Carell is unforgettable thanks to his makeup. In addition, this film has a strong foundation in real events, which only show how crazy people can be. And it is also shown in how it all ends up and how it affects you in this excellent cinematic execution. (01.03.2015)