Done did watch some ol' movin' pictures, I tell you what

I watched some movies this weekend, but you probably knew that. I watch movies every weekend. It's what passes for excitement in my meager existence. Here they is:
Rendez-vous (Andre Techine) Juliette Binoche is really, really great in this. The camera moves like nobody's damn business, I'm talking some beautiful, inventive visuals here. But this is just, pretty much, a wet fart of a movie. It's dumb. It's really, really dumb. And it's not trying to be dumb. It's trying to be smart. Really, really smart. But it's dumb. Really, really dumb. And it was co-written by a director I like, Olivier Assayas. He did a good job unloading his crap on a different director and saving the good stuff for himself.
A Sunday in the Country (Bertrand Tavernier) Now this is a good movie. It's an early-1900s costume period piece, but it's not some Merchant/Ivory monstrosity pummeling all of the wildness out of some classic book. It's about an old painter, who apparently has enjoyed some fame and recognition but who feels that maybe he missed the boat and that his work won't stand the test of time. His son, daughter-in-law, and grandkids come to visit him and his daughter shows up unexpectedly. And that's about it. This is one of the better films about family and the buried resentments, irritations, secrets, and affections that flit in and out of most family gatherings that I've seen.
In America (Jim Sheridan) I'm not sure about this one. It was waaay sentimental, which always makes me feel manipulated and uncomfortable, but sometimes it earned its sentiment. Other times it felt gross. The acting was wonderful, including the two little girls. Usually I hate little kids in movies because their dialogue sounds written by an adult, not spoken by a child. Why force little kids to be cute? They're going to be cute anyway if you just let them be, and a lot more naturally and less creepily cute, I might add. So stop forcing the cute. Sheridan only forces the cute a few times, but when he does, such as in the final scene, it tarnishes what he's trying to do. And sometimes the drama is ratcheted up too intensely where a subtler touch would be more effective. The most egregious example was a scene in which Paddy Considine, who plays the father, has a monologue about feeling dead inside since his infant son died of a brain tumor. Not even a good actor like Considine could save this scene. He's forced to do something really stupid that you only see people doing in movies. Here's the line:
"I can't see. I can't hear." (punches himself several times in the head and the chest, then yells the next line) "I CAN'T FEEL!"
The movie's got a lot going for it: the acting, footage of New York City that looks different from anything you've seen in movies before, and Sheridan's increasing confidence as a visually exciting filmmaker. It's just that the movie tries too hard to make you like it and to jerk out some tears. It's like the film is running for class president. Lighten up, I wanted to say to it.
Full Moon in Paris (Eric Rohmer) What can I say about this one? If you've ever seen a Rohmer film before, this one is pretty much just like it. That's not a put-down, though. Rohmer as a filmmaker is like James Brown or the Ramones as music makers. He's obsessed with variations on a basic theme, and most of his films are pieces of one single body of work. Like James Brown and the Ramones, Rohmer can be addictive and sometimes irritating. This is one of his good ones.