This week I had a chance to catch up with some more films filling out that ever-growing list of “movies to see.” I finally got to see Terrence Howard‘s knockout performance in Hustle and Flow, Woody Allen‘s masterpiece Manhattan, a rocky rom-com Like Crazy and a David Hyde Pierce psychopathic-thriller The Perfect Host.

Hustle and Flow (2006)

There’s a strange magic to Hustle and Flow, an earnest independent feature that follows a pimp trying to transition from his life of ho slingin’ into the rap game of wordsmithin’. Days after watching it, I still have the song’s hook in me which in turn reminds me of the film. A brilliant little barb to get people coming back for more? If so, I applaud the scheme but one way or another this is good hard-boiled black pulp.

Despicable though his character may be, Terrence Howard injects DJay with an oddly lovable soul. He’s a lost cause, a result of circumstance, and a mash of truly warped proclivities who has turned to a life of back-alley pimpin’ to pay the bills. Instead of passing judgment on DJay, we root for him. We want the world to sweep him off his feet and we want him to change. Without Howard, he could have easily been a one-note character – a thug, a badboy, a gangster – instead he is an atypical soul with his heart written on his sleeve.

By not creating this world as a dour pit with thousand foot walls, with angst as thick as smog and characters that wallow in the self-pitying mire of their circumstance, director Craig Brewer manages to tread lightly and keep the film almost bubbling with hope without ever skewing the sad nature of his characters. It’s a clever bit of maneuvering that really speaks to the nuance of his work and it’s what makes this such a success.

Hustle and Flow is a view of big dreams and aspirations through the eyes of an otherwise lost soul. Walking a fine line between its characters being too cuddly and too jagged, it lands smack dab in the baby-bear “just right” category. The chocolate coating on the whole thing is music that’s alive and memorable, amping up the sense of movement and electricity while planting its hook deep in the viewer.

B+

Manhattan (1979)

Manhattan combines modern romanticism with Woody Allen‘s won’t-back-down bluntness and razor-sharp worldview. Much of the stoic, black-and-white camerawork defy expectation in a simple and loving manner, encapsulating the spirit of Manhattan with the tilt of derelict film techniques. It’s at once an homage to old timey filmmaking and a tribute to the majesty of New York City with a generous helping of oddball humor.

The film feeds on Allen’s eccentric energy both onscreen and behind the camera and it’s clearly evident that he’s at his height of amoral sexual deviance and perverse neuroses. Tracking Allen’s ranting stream of consciousness, Manhattan becomes a constantly evolving narrative on love, sex, and living in the big city. It’s a psychological and philosophical dissection of a time and a place but it’s so lovingly told that even Allen’s critiques come across more as wry musings than condemning judgment.

The worlds that Allen create are populated by people whose relationships are fickle and short-lived. Love is fleeting and infidelities are the norm. It’s a harsh world but at least a lesson is imparted and it’s a place without absolutes; where second chances are still better than nothing at all.

Perhaps Allen’s penchant for romanticizing cities more so than people is becoming more hackneyed lately but Manhattan is him in his absolute prime – razor-sharp, unabashedly sincere, and riotously funny. The bumbling neuroticism which has come to define Allen is perfectly married to his droll perversions and this film thrives somewhere in the intersection of the two. His musings jump off the screen with wit and unique intellect, punctuated with laugh-out-loud funny moments.

As a bittersweet and uncompromising look at love as impulse, Manhattan boldly goes where few other films dare. It teaches us that, occasionally, life doesn’t go as planned and when we find ourselves down and out, you have to roll with the punches and sleep with a 17-year old.

A

Like Crazy (2011)

An unflinching stroll through the many phases of a young relationship, Like Crazyhas the rug-swept-from-under-us feel of The Graduate and the unresolved emotional yuckiness of Blue Valentine. All the messy highs and lows that come to define relationships are on full display here for us to peruse through like window-shopping. Though their on-again, off-again love affair becomes frustrating at times, we can all relate to the honest emotions and taxing chagrin of love asunder that define this picture.

While attending the same university, American Jacob and Brit Anna fall madly in love. But when Anna violates her visa, she is sent packing to Britain and their relationship falters. Both Anton Yelchin as Jacob and Felicity Jones as Anna excel at playing with subtle emotions and silent introspection. We’re along for Anna and Jacob’s ride together whether we want to be or not. Thankfully they never cross the indiscernible line into over-dramatics to fecklessly spur the audience on and invite our jeers at their stupid decision-making skills. Rather, each choice they make seems motivated by reason rather than stupidity.

You have to wonder how autobiographical this whole affair is for writer/director Drake Doremus. He seems to know the turmoil and wishy-washy nature of long-distance affairs like the back of his hand and as such, he directs the film with down-to-earth realism. In the end, the illusion is always greater than reality as Doremus’ film is a dishearteningly real take on love as globalization.

For making you feel all that it does, Like Crazy is an unfettered score but it’s limited scope and over-reliance on downright shittiness makes it something I am unlikely to want to revisit.

B

The Perfect Host (2010)

The Perfect Host is the movie equivalent to a titty-twister. It’s gleefully sadistic and yet you can’t help but laugh in places. After John Taylor robs a bank and makes off with nearly $300,000, he barges in on Warwick Wilson’s (David Hyde Pierce) home. Warwick may be a peculiar and friendly man but as the authorities hunt Taylor down, his little home invasion begins to unravel. As a film that really works best when you go in absolutely dry, I want to tread carefully and try not to spoil any of the fun.

Down to his gait and absurdly hairy hands, Hyde has a pretty original character to sink his teeth into and he happily digs into such a grade-A weirdo. His scattershot performance is easily the highlight of the film as he over-shines co-star Clayne Crawford (playing Taylor) again-and-again to an almost embarrassing degree. Sure, this turn will hardly go down in the books as a “great” performance but at least it’s fun to watch and there is definitely something to be said for that.

As the night goes on, the event becomes a circus and we become a cohort into the festivities. It’s wild, it’s weird, and dare I say zany? All-in-all, the outright silly nature of the film actually works quite well in some places but fails to quite live up to it’s own expectations of itself in others.

At least, The Perfect Host changes pace often enough to keep things unexpected and interesting and while it’s not really breaking into any new territory, it’s a very strange and nontraditional little film that functions quite well under it’s tiny budget constraints that managed to keep me invested for its duration.