Wednesday, April 21, 2010

The Last Station: Review

The Last Station
Directed by Michael Hoffman
Starring: Helen Mirren, Christopher Plummer, Paul Giamatti, James McAvoy, and Kerry Condon

You may remember in my review of The Hurt Locker that I said there were several films I’d place above Hurt for the top films of 2009, well, this is one of them.

The Last Station is an excellent film. Remarkably, it was nominated for both best Actress (Mirren) and for best supporting Actor (Plummer), but somehow, was not amongst the TEN films nominated for best picture. How a film can have both its stars nominated for best acting considerations and not be in the best film race, especially an expanded best film race, is an unsolved mystery best left for Leonard Nimoy to contemplate. Naturally, the Oscars being a home of insanity, they did it twice this year: Crazy Heart pulled off the same feat. Unlike The Last Station though, Crazy Heart is a decent film with a great performance in it from Bridges. How in the world Maggie (last name unpronounceable) was nominated for her work is just yet another riddle poor Mr. Nimoy will have to work out. The Last Station is no Crazy Heart, it is far above merely decent.

This is one of the better acted films of the year. Giamatti, a consistently excellent actor, captures the insecurities and the desperation of Vladimir Chertkov. He’s a man who desires to raise the great author Tolstoy up to the level of deity; but ignores the man himself. James McAvoy is the writer Valentin Bulgakov. He is initially employed as a secretary to Tolstoy and he is also an ardent follower, but McAvoy is truthful and honest, and his character grows along with the film. Kerry Condon, playing Masha, brings humanity to the movement and to the movie with an earthy portrayal of Valentin’s love interest.

It is Plummer and Mirren though, that are the highlights of the film. Their relationship; so full of love and enmity, with a rich past that both haunts and supports them, is the crux of the film. When acting like this comes along, it is sometimes hard to describe, except to call it what it is--virtuosity.

The film is more that just the acting. The settings, the costumes, the cinematography all capture the era perfectly. The hypocrisy of the new religion of Tolstoy is no different that the hypocrisy of all religions. In the pursuit of perfection they forget that perfection is impossible, and that messiahs, especially the messiah of Tolstoy, are far from perfect themselves. Tolstoy seems to realize this, as he frequently says, Chertkov (his disciple) is a much better Tolstoyan than he is himself. This overly strict adherence to a way of life is wonderfully illustrated when Tolstoy kills a mosquito that is on the face of Valentin, only to be scolded by his pupil Chertkov for killing a living thing.

Thus, the followers of Tolstoy, while pursuing an ideal life of love, consistently push love to the side. McAvoy’s Valentin begins to see through the hypocrisy and his burgeoning love story is counterbalanced with the older and more layered love of Tolstoy and his Countess.

See the movie.


Point of Interest: Christopher Plummer is a god.

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