Philadelphia Weekly

New Releases

Che
Directed by Steven Soderbergh
A-
Reviewed by Matt Prigge
Opens Fri., Jan. 16

Since most biopics seem willing to rub their subject's feet with pumice stone--see this week's Biggie paean Notorious--it's refreshing that throughout both parts of director Steven Soderbergh's Che (totalling four and a half hours) we never quite know what he thinks of his subject. To some that may seem like a dodge. The film never mentions the facts about Ernesto Guevara that ought to keep him off college kids' T-shirts, such as his overseeing mass executions, persecution of homosexuals and many other questionable offenses. Soderbergh's film views its subject at such a remove that Che often seems a supporting player in the film that bears his name.

Played with quiet cool by Benicio del Toro, Guevara is viewed at three vastly different points in his life. In Part One, titled "The Argentine," we toggle between him on an uncomfortable whirlwind tour through New York (climaxing in a too-fiery speech in front of the U.N.) and the fabled Cuban Revolution. Filmed in heroic Cinemascope, the campaign's a spectacular triumph, setting up things nicely for Part Two, "Guerilla," which shows Guevara's attempt to spread revolution in Bolivia from 1966 to 1967, which wasn't so triumphant.

Watching both parts in one intermissioned screening (as you can at the Ritz Theatres), underscores the numerous echoes that resonate throughout the entire work. What goes swimmingly in "The Argentine" goes miserably in "Guerilla," and where the Cuban revolution snowballs like a game of Katamari, its Bolivian counterpart never takes shape, resulting in its leader's appropriately unglamorous execution.

Though Soderbergh never gets too close to del Toro's rebel, he follows his tactile example. If two words sum up Che, they would be "grunt work." Soderbergh's interest is not the how or why of Guevara but the what--what it's like to assemble a revolution, to keep it going, to live day by day on feral instincts in inclement weather and with little food. During the thrilling, if still fairly detached, climax of "The Argentine," Guevara's men painstakingly knock down the walls of a long stretch of row homes, all to get to a target that winds up not being used. That's revolution, and that's also, in a nutshell, Steven Soderbergh's Che.

Last Chance Harvey
Directed by Joel Hopkins
C
Reviewed by Matt Prigge
Opens Fri., Jan. 16

Perhaps there are worse things to imagine than a Last Chance Harvey that doesn't star Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson. War. Famine. Future Twilight sequels. That said, even leads as fundamentally appealing as these two can't do much to assuage the banality and schmaltz of Joel Hopkins' autopilot romancer.

Introduced banging out a sad, lonely tune on a piano, Hoffman's Harvey Shine proceeds to spend the first half-hour being shat upon. First, he loses his job as the author of commercial jingles. Then, upon arriving at the London wedding of his semi-estranged daughter (Liane Balaban), she informs him that she'd prefer her non-shlub stepfather James Brolin to give her away. Meanwhile, we catch the less caustic shenanigans of single gal Emma Thompson, as she fields endless calls from pesky mom Eileen Atkins and is dragged on a run-of-the-mill blind date.

The lead characters don't meet until two reels into the film. At this point, all Hoffman and Thompson have to do is rise above the blandness of the script. Both escape unscathed but also unvictorious.

Perversely mismatched, the two have an easy, bubbly rapport that would probably be even more affecting if former Tindersticks member Dickon Hinchliffe's sickeningly oppressive score didn't constantly try to drown them out. Still, not even full-on musical bombast can sabotage these performers, particularly Thompson, whose disarming mix of brusqueness and warmth has rarely been so appealing. She effortlessly conveys a history of pain and disappointment, turning a cliche--the intimacy-phobic loner--into a living, breathing person.

Hoffman fares less well as Harvey; if anything, he's too likable, never hinting at the dark side that would cause his loved ones to extricate him from their life. But most is forgiven when they share the screen, despite the opposition they face from all sides.

Unambitious to a fault, Last Chance Harvey simply wants to be sweet, but only its stars make that a worthwhile goal.

Notorious
Directed by George Tillman, Jr.
C+
Reviewed by Matt Prigge
Opens Fri., Jan. 16