Atonement

I saw Atonement (2007) during its theatrical run and remember being disappointed. Rewatching it now, I'm more apt to be generous. Joe Wright's adaptation of a masterful Ian McEwan novel isn't perfect, but conveys McEwan's exploration of perception, guilt and creativity with striking clarity.

England in the mid-'30s. Precocious preteen Briony Tallis (Saorise Ronan) observes several incidents with her sister Cecilia (Keira Knightley) and servant Robbie (James McAvoy) that she interprets as sexual assaults instead of innocent flirtation. One night, someone molests Briony's friend Lola (Juno Temple) - an act Briony blames on Robbie. Robbie joins the BEF when World War II breaks out, getting caught up in the retreat to Dunkirk. Cecilia has become a nurse, pining for his return. Briony (now Romola Garai) also works as a nurse, realizing Robbie's innocence and hoping to right her mistakes.

Beneath Atonement's genteel trappings lies a disturbing character study. Briony dominates the film, a striking presence both physically and personally. She's a narcissist who enjoys the power to shape events. She finds an outlet in fiction but proves. A mix of honest misunderstandings and conscious desire (she entertains a crush on Robbie) makes her view Robbie as a deviant. Adult Briony still arrogates herself the right to "change" others, whether patients in a hospital ward or patch up Robbie and Cecilia's tattered romance. She views her writing as a "kindness," assuaging her guilt by creating a storybook ending for those she's wronged. It's a chilling portrait of literary "God complex" gone mad.

Understandably, writer Christopher Hampton downplays the expected class warfare themes. Robbie's basically a member of the family, with Cecilia's parents paying for his education. There are more pressing issues than Upstairs Downstairs drama. There's Morris (Benedict Cumberbatch), a charming chocolate maker who brings news of impending war; Lola, a precocious waif not so mature as she thinks; Robbie and Cecilia, initiating a tentative romance. But everything comes back to Briony, never realizing that her meddling carries actual consequences.

Wright's direction employs several neat tricks. Dario Marianelli's score brilliantly employs clacking typewriters, driving home the theme of someone writing events. Wright shows key events from Briony's perspective, before backtracking to show what "really" happened. This device could be hokey, but it's used sparingly enough to work. This also keeps us invested in Robbie and Cecilia's budding romance, unthinkable if either was a pervert. Robbie's fall from grace strikes a poignant note: his erstwhile benefactors turn on him, while Briony coldly observes. This ends a masterful opening hour on a perfect note.

Atonement stumbles afterwards. Wright encrusts his war scenes with David Lean grace notes, even borrowing imagery from Doctor Zhivago (a field of massacred children, Robbie's eyes illuminated by pinpricks of light), but everything seems rushed and perfunctory. The much-ballyhooed Dunkirk tracking shot is technically stunning, but really doesn't advance the film. Compared to the first hour's craftsmanship, Robbie's plight in France feels anemic, with the actual war kept off-screen and Robbie's squad mates (Daniel Maze and Nonso Azonie) barely ciphers. Worse, Cecelia all but vanishes, throwing the narrative off-balance.

Wright regains an even keel showing Briony's "penance" as a nurse. Briony struggles mightily to be practical, yet she can't sublimate her individuality to nursing - nor curb her desire to shape the lives of others. Accompanied by the gruesome sites of maimed Tommies, it's a striking sequence. The reveal of Lola's attacker proves less effective: given Wright's dual perspective trick elsewhere, it's an obvious cheat. But Wright delivers the finale with such gut-wrenching power that we forgive most of these faults. We just wish Atonement was half-an-hour longer to properly flesh out some story points.

Top acting honors go to the Briony Trio. Saorise Ronan got a well-earned Oscar nod, revealing Briony's studied arrogance and childish vulnerability. With her piercing blue eyes and impassive demeanor, she's a striking screen presence. Romola Garai ably handles the thankless chore of anchoring Atonement's middle third; she gets one standout sequence, comforting a dying French soldier (Jeremie Renier). Finally, Vanessa Redgrave closes things out with a heart-wrenching monologue. It's one of the best intergenerational acting teams in memory, each leaving an indelible impression.

James McAvoy gives a powerful turn as a smart but perpetually frustrated youth. Despite being periodically tapped as the "next big thing," McAvoy's career hasn't really caught fire - though his role in X-Men: First Class leaves us hopeful. Keira Knightley is tolerable, despite employing clipped verbiage that makes her sound like a tetanic Celia Johnson. Benedict Cumberbatch (War Horse) makes the most of brief screen time; Juno Temple (The Dark Knight Rises) plays Briony's unfortunate friend.

Atonement rewards multiple viewings. Despite occasional missteps, it's a unique, deeply affecting drama with fascinating thematic material. Maybe reading McEwan's novel since my first go-around helped me appreciate it better. It certainly couldn't hurt.

Hanna

Beware genre films helmed by a prestige director. When filmmakers retool their style for the material, you get films like Tim Burton's Batman or the Coens' True Grit. More often a self-professed auteur thinks he's too good for a mere spy flick/horror film/superhero movie, injecting it instead with muddled "meaning" and irritating artistry. Witness John Frankenheimer's Prophecy passing off homicidal bear jerky as a profound ecological statement.

Joe Wright's Hanna (2011) is Exhibit B. What highfalutin nogginhead thought attaching the director of high-toned Oscar bait Pride and Prejudice and Atonement to a violent spy thriller was a good idea? The movie received modest acclaim but this blogger found it insufferable, a half-digested mixture of stomach-turning style, facile story and misused actors.

In the Finnish wilderness, teenager Hanna (Saorise Ronan) is raised by Erik Heller (Eric Bana) to be a self-reliant killing machine. Hanna's decision to see more of the outside world brings fateful consequences. CIA Agent Marissa Wiegler (Cate Blanchett) knows Erik has damaging information on the agency and enlists freelance thug Isaacs (Tom Hollander) to kill him. But Hanna proves an even bigger threat, especially when she learns of her twisted origins.

Hanna contains all the careful, considered craftsmanship of a bad music video. Wright crams the film with circling camera angles, hard dissolves, dizzying colors, international locations (Morocco, Finland, Germany) and strange imagery (headless dinosaur statues, Isaacs' gauche nightclub) but it's all ostentatious, empty preening. Long, pointless scenes and annoying dialogue proliferate. Coupled with the Chemical Brothers' roiling techno-score, the overall effect is nausea.

The story is even worse. The "fairy tale structure" (informed I guess by Hanna reading a Brothers Grimm book) seems a convenient excuse for endless clichés, plot holes and one-note characters. Hanna's baffled by light switches and kitchen appliances yet quickly masters a laptop? Hanna skipping from continent to continent without notice or interference is equally hard to swallow. Similarly, the last-act revelations about CIA genetic experiments come out of a screenwriter's handbook.

Wright and writers David Farr and Seth Lockhead fail further handling Hanna. She's a blank slate lacking the self-awareness of Hit Girl or Katniss Everdeen's rounded characterization, all meaningful glances and fancy gun tricks without substance. Wright pointlessly adds a family of hippie tourists for cringe-worthy character non-development. Then again, even a better-realized character couldn't overcome the twee disconnect between Hanna's self-discovery and barehanded neck breaking.

Saorise Ronan struggles to wring any humanity from an ill-conceived part. Eric Bana is merely bland, but the bad guys are pathetic. Cate Blanchett mixes cartoon villainy with a laughable Texas drawl, while Tom Hollander sporting frost blond hair and a Hogan's Heroes accent is terrifying in the wrong way. And these are actors I ordinarily like.

Hanna is just a gloppy mess. Joe Wright's attempts to transcend the pulp story merely inspire incredulity. No matter how many close-ups of Cate Blanchett's bleeding gums you insert Joe, it's still a teenaged assassin flick.