“You’re not an asshole. You’re just trying so hard to be.”

That brilliant last line of the movie The Social Network applies to both protagonists of the two films we’ve watched this weekend. Both M – Mark and Megamind – are unlikely folks to dominate the world. Both, are social misfits trying so hard to belong. Both, are empty souls simply motivated by the yearning… to get the girl.

Wars and youths make the most of conflict, and the best drama.

Soldiers and leaders at wars should not be rash, ignorant, impulsive, scared, or blur. And most teens, are.

Then there is the senseless loss of young lives. Of unrealized potential and bright sparks sniffed off at their prime in battles they may not have chosen to participate or understand.

Like those 71 clueless and inexperienced South Korean students left behind to protect the turf against troops of North Korean army and tanks in 1950.

Close up shots of tank rolling over Harry Potterish specs. Thumb got caught while loading rifle. Boots stepping on dead fingers. A little kid with loaded guns…

But the most heart wrenching moment in 71: Into The Fire is sealed at the credits. When recent interview footage of the survivors of that madness, now in their 60s, is shown.

Director John H. Lee delivered a big film not unlike a Hollywood blockbuster. It’s like Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, maybe even better as it’s less self-indulgent. He also smartly and efficiently paints the North Koreans as humans and not “monsters with horns”. One shot of that enemy leader glancing at a photo of his teenage son with him. One cry of a dying rival- also a teen- for his mother.

34 yo Kwon Sang-woo may be a little too old to play the rebellious jerk, but 23 yo T.O.P plays the shell-shocked baby-faced teenage leader to a T.

Love it for the fact that it never compromises the premise from start to finish.

The premise of this Spanish production Buried is simple. An everyday American man wakes up mysteriously in a coffin underground in Iraq, with only a Zippo lighter and a mobile phone. (Although he finds a bag of other stuff later) The pacing keeps you on the edge with one of these time bombs: either the phone battery dies first, or the coffin caves in with the weight of the earth. Or, the rescuers arrive…

The story may be thin, but director/editor Rodrigo Cortés thinks out of the box to film inside the box, working with cinematographer Eduard Grau to achieve the technical and aesthetical feat of making 95mins look interesting and inventive in the confines of the coffin. Yes, the whole film takes place in the box! Who would have thought you could shoot in so many angles and perspectives. And the contrast of flickering yellow light from the Zippo and the clinical blue light from the phone in between pitch darkness is clever. Very brave for the filmmakers to resist cutting to flashbacks or with any other devise of expositions. (Production note: I also read that it was shot entirely on a soundstage in just 17 days).

Ryan Reynolds carries the film reasonably well from frame one to last, displaying a gamut of emotions from anger to despair, hope to doubt, resignation to regret.

You could feel the character’s desperation. The social commentary here – on the coldness of answering receptionists or machines, and the cold-heartedness of corporations and government – is skin deep but I guess, sufficient. And the ending is not disappointing. As I said, bravo to the film for not compromising from start to finish.

It’s not fair, I know. To compare the movie with the book… but… We love the book. I love the book. So there is inevitably a certain possessiveness attached to how the characters and themes are being brought to life on screen, despite lowering all expectations.

So what moves and what does not?

I find myself feeling for Julia Roberts as an actress a lot. I love Julia Roberts, especially those naked honest close-ups with tears and fears welling in her eyes. Where did she find within herself such pain, guilt and sadness? It’s as if she herself has been through some emotional and spiritual trauma. That is a good thing, as I find her extremely watchable and relatable, although that in itself is a little bad as I did not find myself feeling for Julia Roberts as Elizabeth Gilbert. The actress in this case is larger than the character. It was all Roberts when she flashes her million-dollar smile (and Ketut has to egg her on more to smile on her face, smile in the liver…), but less Gilbert when she kneels on that toilet floor in such poise and posture instead of being a heap of mess. I wish she would lost herself more, be more broken, fractured, so that we could see her find herself back.

I like ‘Eat’ better than ‘Pray’, and ‘Pray’ better than ‘Love’. The liberties the director Ryan Murphy (Glee) have taken with his Nip/Tuck co-scriptwriter Jennifer Salt work on some levels but threaten the essence of the source material in the last third of the picture.

Filmed with a soft lens through-out, Rome and its warmth of food, friends and freedom to do absolutely nothing came across most effortlessly. The pursuit of pleasure is easier to film than the pursuit of devotion or balance in the next two acts. Both she and us the audience is sufficiently distracted from her emotional crisis by being a fish out of the New York waters and into a passionate Italian pond.

Smash-cut to the contrasting Slumdog India. Nice. But wish the ashram would look more like the streets and less picturesque too. And would have wished the character falls deeper into despair and a deeper crisis. I would imagine it would be tough to portray on screen interestingly the process of meditation and the hours of efforts to silent the wandering mind. So I thought the rooftop reconciliation with the help of Richard’s own story, and the visual signposting of the elephant as enlightenment is effective.

The flashbacks to the ex-husband work well too as they give layers to that man and the relationship other than a painful thorn in the divorce proceedings.

I have the biggest problem with the third act. Not only do I believe Javier Bardem was wrongly cast and the character Felipe drastically misrepresented, the movie at this point suffers the most as the filmmakers and/or studios bastardise the entire Bali experience into a Hollywood copout. Complete with an oh-too-convenient boy-meets-girl (It was not Felipe who almost runs her down in that road accident in the book), a set-up of a big fight by the pier, and a cheesy Hollywood dash (literally) to a happy ending.

Time was given for her to be just by herself in Italy, and for her to reflect and forgive herself in India. Time was not given to her to fall for Felipe and Indonesia the way it was written. The search for love cannot be the end-all for it all. Isn’t there that strong message at the end of the book, that at the end of the day, at your darkest hour, you are there for you? It is always you. Cannot afford to depend on another man or being. In fact, the deviations in the film and that sugar-coated ‘love’ after a journey of searching for peace within and balance totally negates what the book and Elizabeth Gilbert have intended. Argh, extremely disappointing.

Speaking of time. I suspect the Singapore’s theatrical version was trimmed for time to fit more screening cycles. It’s 120 min compared to the 133 min as stated in its IMDB site, and the cuts were abrupt.

So, attraversiamo. Did the story cross over from print to screen successfully? It may not become one of my all-time favourite films, but it is still way stronger than SATC 2.

Open their eyes, but not their legs. Break the relationships, but not the hearts.

Take the romantic comedy formula, and spin it into a heist-like genre film. Only this time, what the professional operators steal are not banks but hearts. Almost mission impossible?

Heartbreaker (L’arnacoeur) delivers. With a refreshing dose of wit, charm, sexiness and speed so uncommon in Hollywood rom-coms. The comedy (and the chase) comes partly from the elaborate spying and research techniques, and the extremes the professional con-artist will go to to complete his assignment under the pressure of time and money. Almost Mission Impossible!

Beyond the brilliant premise and set-up, the comedy works largely because of the two leads, and the intoxicating chemistry between them.

Romain Duris is a charmer, and a very good actor. Have loved him since The Spanish Apartment, Osmosis, Russian Dolls, and The Beat That My Heart Skipped. Two years back, when he took on the period comedy Molière under thick facial hair, he flaunted his excellent comedy chops. Here, he is every bit the right man for the right job. Action sequences, broad comedy, tender regrets, dirty dancing, he did it all in this film, with a suaveness no Hollywood A-lister could match up to.

(Incidentally, his Spanish Apartment‘s co-star Audrey Tautou also had a film about cons in love shot at the Riveria – Priceless, a movie I like a lot too.)

Vanessa Paradis says it best when she says nothing at all. Just a look…. a lingering look, captured by the lens and projected on screen, illuminates and communicates all the essence of her character. She plays the straight foil for Romain’s physical comedy, and again, no one the likes of Drew Barrymore or Julia Stiles could ever reprise her enigmatic presence.

The French is also always good in providing strong, well-fleshed out supporting characters, as evident here in the super-disguise-spy sister and her techie-loony husband. They have enough scenes and moments on their own to cement the odd relationship. The filmmakers also make an effort to keep the fast-paced comedy accessible to a larger movie-going audience, with beautiful locales in Monte Carlo, pop culture references in Dirty Dancing and George Michael, and the generous use of indie tracks in English.

Heartbreaker, to me, is definitely the romantic comedy of this year.

Heartbreaker opens in Singapore this Thursday. A must-watch this weekend!

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

The script came across as one that was written by a class of excited geeks, who tried their best to add twists, and twist in twists to show off how clever they can twist. Not very successful.

In a very early scene when that CIA boss of hers requested to be with her alone in that interrogation room for five minutes, audiences would have guessed he was a Russian spy too – major sign posting there.

No wait. Way earlier. In that first sequence where he redeemed her from that N. Korea torture chamber, I had already confirmed he was an up-to-no-good spy liow. The filmmakers may have won half the battle with the right casting of the watchable Angelina Jolie in the title role, but they definitely had lost the war with the wrong cast choice here. C’mon. Liev Schreiber? Hasn’t he played mostly Eastern Europeans or Russian chaps in Hollywood films?

Not going into plot holes here. I’m not supposed to. Plot holes are commonly mistaken as key ingredients in making a summer blockbuster. But… I can’t help it. I need to mention one senseless gag. Seriously? All the clothes she nipped off racks, toilets, kiosk etc fit her so perfectly?

I do like the way she runs. Reminds me of Run Lola Run, a much better film.