“I’m from here”: Up in the Air & 2nd Act Revelations
This is a road movie: it’s not about the destination, it’s about the trip.
“The stars will wheel forth from their daytime hiding places; and one of those lights, slightly brighter than the rest, will be my wingtip passing over.”
Up in the Air
Director: Jason Reitman
Release Date: December 23, 2009
***** 5/5
I don’t write about anything twice in my Movie Log unless something profound happens. Look about 8 pages back to #558 and you’ll see Up in the Air–it was the first thing I wrote about in 2010–and you’ll find it resting its weight onto four mostly sure-of-themselves stars. Four out of five–which, in Movie Log terms, means that it’s a keeper. It doesn’t mean, necessarily, that I loved what I saw–although sometimes it can. It’s more that it touched me in some way. And I’d want to experience that touch again, maybe only to figure out exactly why.
Eight pages ago this is what I was thinking, verbatim:
The film’s arc, even its themes, are really nothing too groundbreaking or new, but the way they’re approached & realized is what makes them special. There’s a passion–or better, an acceptance–at the roots here…. In the end, the movie’s not as revolutionary or particularly striking as I maybe would have hoped, but these are themes that never can be explored too deeply or often–the “coming of age” story, ideas about rationalizations and ideals, loneliness and the meaning/power of relationships…. And the ending, w/ its swelling music stopped right before it hits its climax, falling to the solitary but beautiful sound of the void above the clouds, is not only indicative of the contrast this movie strikes over and over, but is flat-out brilliant.
What I love about that blurb, why I’m writing this post, is that after I rewatched Up in the Air a week or so ago, I disagreed with exactly none of what I thought 3 months ago–yet, the qualifiers were gone. What I liked in January, I loved in March. And what then I felt I had to justify, backing words like “brilliant” with neutralizers like “not as revolutionary…groundbreaking…or particularly striking,” I now totally embraced.
This seems to be a theme with me. Almost every one of my favorite Woody Allen movies got the shaft the first time around. It took me 3 watches before 40-Year-Old Virgin clicked. Nosferatu wasn’t Nosferatu until Round 2. And I didn’t lose it for Notorious (Hitchcock’s not Biggie’s) until I already knew how the story ended. I’m suspicious of the 5-star. I circle it but am slow to pounce, as if I’d get burnt if I gave it to away willy nilly only to realize later that it didn’t stand up.
When I watched Up in the Air for the second time, I had one of those revelatory movie experiences, when everything just clicks and everything, the writing, the lighting, the grain, seems warm and soft and perfect. You might even see your first-watch hangups buried deep within the screen in viewings like these, but it’s clear somehow that maybe they’re just that: your hangups, not the movie’s.
Here’s what I was thinking a page ago:
Maybe it’s normal–& expected–to reach a point in your movie-watching life where your expectations for “edgy,” “relentless” or “new” are replaced by things that, last year, would’ve felt somehow modest or subdued. Things like heart, even if it’s hidden behind formula, & feeling–not sentimentality or “emotion,” per se, but feeling, a feeling, a world where things are honest, & sad, & beautiful, & funny. Like life. Things click in this movie. …It’s only been about 3 months since my 1st viewing; my worldview–or filmview–probably hasn’t changed that much in that time. But sometimes it takes a 2nd look, when your guard is distracted & down, to really appreciate what something has, even if, sure, you know how it might end. This is a road movie: it’s not about the destination, it’s about the trip. Also, the destination isn’t clean or totally Oscar-y, either. Clooney is effectively made into this kind of tragi-beautiful self-fulfilling prophecy whose destiny–& I don’t think I’m using that word out of term–is to be in the air, nowhere & everywhere all at once. That last line is so bittersweet & enigmatic–a comparison to the stars; the sparkle off a wingtip overhead, flying to who knows where; the swell and sudden stop of music; the vacuum of silence. I love this movie. It’s as light & fun as it is impressive &, yeah, completely striking.
This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 6th, 2010 at 7:09 pm and is filed under film, reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
