Drew Smith (ceWEBrity)

Adoration is a movie bizarrely at odds with itself. Its attempts to be an accessible thriller/mystery don't necessarily run contrary to the surprising thematic richness that Atom Egoyan has peppered throughout the film, but the man has a tin ear for dialogue. More often than not, characters feel like ciphers or mouthpieces; the most immediate offender is the loan officer that Scott Speedman talks to toward the beginning of the film, who serves as an incomprehensibly knowledgeable plot dump and then totally vanishes. Had all of this narrative flabbiness been excised from the tale (by simplifying the plot or removing some of the characters), Adoration would have been stronger for it. The movie is by all means watchable, and never truly bad, but its greatest crime is that it's overextended. Adoration first assumes the thesis that overanalyzation causes us to lose sight of the true issues at hand, which it illuminates quite elegantly with a chatroom scene...and then another...and then another. Though it does well in showing the dramatic scope that Simon's lie has taken, and the scenes are always engaging to watch if only to hear a new twisted viewpoint, they ultimately start to feel unnecessary to a theme we already understand. The movie is always intelligent, but it isn't economical. Again, those mouthpiece characters don't really seem to cut down on the verbosity; and whether by nature of the script or the actors themselves, no one can really seem to break through the artificiality of the humans constructed here. Arsinee Khanjian comes close, but her character has obviously received the most attention, and instead of seeming like a metaphorical viewpoint she's really just insane. Despite these problems, the film remains worth watching, if only because it constantly holds your attention - the plot at its core is enthralling and I found myself curious as to where it would go next. Adoration will always be remembered as a mismatch of two separate parts, however, a dissonant but still fascinating work.

The tale itself may seem conventional, and in some regards it is, but Precious isn't afraid to be bizarre, nor is it apologetic for the situations and characters it presents. With a life as hard as Precious's, it only makes sense that she would want to retreat into her vivid, colorfully contrasted fantasies; the fact that we see both poles of her fucked-up existence makes watching all the more difficult. Precious is an elegant counter to something of hopeful, blind idealism such as Slumdog Millionaire; unlike the latter film, things are DEFINITELY not okay at the end of her tale, but there's still hope to be found. A little of the shade and the misery that was eternally present in Precious's face (communicated flawlessly by Gabby Sidibe, who'll be receiving Oscar attention soon) has been chipped away by her newfound gifts and revelations. Precious is an audacious movie for positing an obese black woman as a cinematic hero, and it doesn't even sanctify her at all; she's sort of a difficult person to like, but the movie makes you work for it, and sure enough you become invested in her success. Again, this is mostly due to Sidibe's portrayal of a girl with a sneaky, subdued sort of intelligence, the kind of person who has a lot of insight but is too downtrodden to share it with anyone.

Precious, as I said before, is a bizarre movie. I don't think some of the directorial choices are going to work for everyone, most notably the unusual cutaway to a Vittorio de Sica film, superimposed with Precious and her mother acting out a scene about eating; though it can be read as a benchmark as to how far Precious is willing to go to escape her life, most viewers will probably just be thinking "what the fuck?" But then the entire movie is sort of "what the fuck?" so it really isn't that much of a stretch. Aside from a simple narrative perspective, the brightness and vividity of the fantasy scenes offer immense relief, standing directly opposite of the harsh darkness of Precious's world. The oppressive yellows and browns of her apartment melt away into shimmering reds and blues, lit from corner to corner and filled with smiling faces.

The Oscar prognostication for the film hasn't been too far off. This is a little darker than the Academy generally goes to, and without the perfect ending of Slumdog Millionaire to run to, they might be shut down by it. But there's no denying the potency of the performances, especially Mo'Nique's, the film's not-so-secret weapon. The terms on which she delivers this performance seem a little unfair - Mary is such an incomprehensible, inhuman monster that you wonder what circumstances could possibly have created someone like her - but there's no denying the gut-wrenching technical proficiency with which she administers it. When she speaks, the unbelievability of her character seems completely overshadowed by how larger than life she is; she's there, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. She is hypnotic.

I cannot imagine a romance film that is more sincere or subdued. It's like watching every good dream you've ever had unfurl on the screen.

If you don't like this movie, you're wrong. Simple as that.