PRIDE (Sunu Gonera, 2007)
Employed to clean up the Marcus Foster Recreation Center for impending closure, Jim Ellis (Terrence Howard) also puts a sparkle in the eyes of the surrounding community in PRIDE. When Jim arrives in the north Philadelphia neighborhood in 1974, the center is a crumbling facility in which resident and maintenance man Elston (Bernie Mac) has more interest in monitoring his stories on TV than the building's infrastructure. Area boys play on the blacktop basketball court, but otherwise the place is for criminal rather than physical activity.
When a city worker removes the basketball hoop, Jim invites the boys inside for swimming. Intent to stop their clowning in the water, he accepts a bet from the most outspoken of the group. A former swimmer for Cheyney State, he has no problem winning the twenty dollars and their respect.
Five boys decide that they would like to learn how to swim like him. Jim patiently instructs them in the proper techniques and team discipline, but two questions must be resolved if his work is to have any value. Will his instilled lessons take root, and will Sue Davis (Kimberly Elise), a city councilwoman and one of the boys' legal guardians, be able to keep the Philadelphia Department of Recreation from shuttering the center's doors?
PRIDE is the latest in an endless supply of motivational sports movies inspired by true stories. Recent examples of this tried and true formula include WE ARE MARSHALL, INVINCIBLE, and GRIDIRON GANG. Take an unlikely underdog or a group of them, and follow the steps as they persevere against all odds. Separating PRIDE from the pack is its focus on swimming. When was the last time an aquatic sport received its own movie? The film imparts some basic knowledge about what Jim teaches these kids, but the real lessons are in pride, determination, and resiliency, not swimming mechanics.
On that level the film works. As the boys overcome the adversity of their circumstances and develop respect for themselves and those around them, it's easy to get caught up in the emotion of the moments. Movie studios return to this well so many times because it's hard to resist stories of the unlikely heroes coming out on top.
Where PRIDE falters is in creating memorable characters. For all intents and purposes, the swim team might as well be The One with the Glasses, The One Protective of His Afro, The Stutterer, The One with the Sister, The One Destined to be Leader, and The Girl. The team consists of character types, not well-rounded individuals.
The same extends to Howard's protagonist. Jim rolls into Philly looking for a teaching job at Main Line Academy but can do no better than doing janitor work at PDR. He's like a magical mentor who appears out of the ether to improve lives. Seriously. Beyond what we learn in the pre-opening credits sequence, in which Jim suffers the humiliation of racism at a college swim meet in 1964, what else do we know about the guy? He inspires the kids, sure, but there has to be something interesting about the real person that could have beefed up his lightweight screen persona.
Nevertheless, PRIDE rises with its feel-good message, soul classics of the 70s on the soundtrack, and Bernie Mac's comic relief. The film isn't a champion, but it makes you feel like one.
Grade: B-
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Reign Over Me
REIGN OVER ME (Mike Binder, 2007)
Alan Johnson (Don Cheadle) bumps into old college roommate Charlie Fineman (Adam Sandler) on the streets of Manhattan, but Charlie doesn't recognize him. Alan knows that Charlie lost his wife and daughters in one of the planes that struck the World Trade Center on September 11, so he's willing to overlook the fog still lingering over his friend, even if his behavior is cause for concern.
REIGN OVER ME reunites these pals at a time when both are adrift in their own ways. Alan has a family and successful dental practice, but he feels as though he has no life outside of his wife, kids, and job. His lack of friends and hobbies make him feel incomplete. Although it is years after the tragedy that took Charlie's family, his coping method has been to run from reality. He severs ties with everyone who knew his wife and kids, especially his in-laws, and refuses to speak about them. In their absence he fills his time obsessively playing video games, listening to his iPod, shopping for records, and remodeling the kitchen. Content to putter around the city on his motorized scooter, Charlie leads a lonely life.
As they become reacquainted, Alan's concern for Charlie's mental welfare grows. He wants Charlie to get help but is rebuffed every time. Alan's interactions with Charlie consume larger portions of his day, which puts a strain on his marriage. The rekindled friendship is what both men need at this point. The question is whether they can assist one another in moving past their pain or will reinforce their desire to wallow in it.
REIGN OVER ME finds Sandler in PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE mode. That's good news for those of us who believe his best work came in Paul Thomas Anderson's film and bad news for those who prefer his lowbrow comedies. Here Sandler has discovered another interesting venue for exploring different shades of the man-child persona he's created.
Sadness, anger, and the desperate need for love and approval are at the core of the characters he plays in every film. REIGN OVER ME taps into those qualities to reveal the human suffering in Charlie. Sandler's "please luv me" whimpering can be grating in his broad comedies, but it's surprisingly effective in a serious setting. He reverts Charlie to a child-like state, at least in appearance, and transforms that vulnerability into a shield and a weapon. What looks like passivity is actually aggression, another staple of Sandler's characterizations. To watch him fight the attempted breaching of his protective shell in this manner is to understand how deeply wounded he is.
Cheadle's performance anchors REIGN OVER ME but is prone to exhibit fewer fireworks. That's necessary to balance Sandler's half, although writer-director Mike Binder shortchanges Alan's psychological complexity. Ostensibly he is the main character, yet the film is less about his story. The tension between him and wife Janeane (Jada Pinkett Smith) is explained as standard spousal movie conflict than anything developed organically. For as disheveled as Alan's life is supposed to be, he appears to have it together relatively well.
REIGN OVER ME is an unusual entry among 9/11 movies. It tiptoes around the explicit mention of what occurred while being an undeniable response to how to react in the face of those terrible circumstances. Binder suggests that it's best to let people mourn on their own terms. There is no statute of limitations for working through the process, although one might quibble with the film's implication that Charlie be permitted his own schedule. Presumably it's been five years since the tragedy took place. He's definitely in a position where he needs outside help.
Although muddled and inconsistent, especially toward the end, REIGN OVER ME succeeds with its portrayal of friendship in hard times. Sandler and Cheadle are a likeable pair who pull each other from the ashes of their charred mental states. It's an imperfect film but one worth seeing for their pleasing performances.
Grade: B-
Alan Johnson (Don Cheadle) bumps into old college roommate Charlie Fineman (Adam Sandler) on the streets of Manhattan, but Charlie doesn't recognize him. Alan knows that Charlie lost his wife and daughters in one of the planes that struck the World Trade Center on September 11, so he's willing to overlook the fog still lingering over his friend, even if his behavior is cause for concern.
REIGN OVER ME reunites these pals at a time when both are adrift in their own ways. Alan has a family and successful dental practice, but he feels as though he has no life outside of his wife, kids, and job. His lack of friends and hobbies make him feel incomplete. Although it is years after the tragedy that took Charlie's family, his coping method has been to run from reality. He severs ties with everyone who knew his wife and kids, especially his in-laws, and refuses to speak about them. In their absence he fills his time obsessively playing video games, listening to his iPod, shopping for records, and remodeling the kitchen. Content to putter around the city on his motorized scooter, Charlie leads a lonely life.
As they become reacquainted, Alan's concern for Charlie's mental welfare grows. He wants Charlie to get help but is rebuffed every time. Alan's interactions with Charlie consume larger portions of his day, which puts a strain on his marriage. The rekindled friendship is what both men need at this point. The question is whether they can assist one another in moving past their pain or will reinforce their desire to wallow in it.
REIGN OVER ME finds Sandler in PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE mode. That's good news for those of us who believe his best work came in Paul Thomas Anderson's film and bad news for those who prefer his lowbrow comedies. Here Sandler has discovered another interesting venue for exploring different shades of the man-child persona he's created.
Sadness, anger, and the desperate need for love and approval are at the core of the characters he plays in every film. REIGN OVER ME taps into those qualities to reveal the human suffering in Charlie. Sandler's "please luv me" whimpering can be grating in his broad comedies, but it's surprisingly effective in a serious setting. He reverts Charlie to a child-like state, at least in appearance, and transforms that vulnerability into a shield and a weapon. What looks like passivity is actually aggression, another staple of Sandler's characterizations. To watch him fight the attempted breaching of his protective shell in this manner is to understand how deeply wounded he is.
Cheadle's performance anchors REIGN OVER ME but is prone to exhibit fewer fireworks. That's necessary to balance Sandler's half, although writer-director Mike Binder shortchanges Alan's psychological complexity. Ostensibly he is the main character, yet the film is less about his story. The tension between him and wife Janeane (Jada Pinkett Smith) is explained as standard spousal movie conflict than anything developed organically. For as disheveled as Alan's life is supposed to be, he appears to have it together relatively well.
REIGN OVER ME is an unusual entry among 9/11 movies. It tiptoes around the explicit mention of what occurred while being an undeniable response to how to react in the face of those terrible circumstances. Binder suggests that it's best to let people mourn on their own terms. There is no statute of limitations for working through the process, although one might quibble with the film's implication that Charlie be permitted his own schedule. Presumably it's been five years since the tragedy took place. He's definitely in a position where he needs outside help.
Although muddled and inconsistent, especially toward the end, REIGN OVER ME succeeds with its portrayal of friendship in hard times. Sandler and Cheadle are a likeable pair who pull each other from the ashes of their charred mental states. It's an imperfect film but one worth seeing for their pleasing performances.
Grade: B-
Premonition
PREMONITION (Mennan Yapo, 2007)
Linda Hanson (Sandra Bullock) is informed that her husband Jim (Julian McMahon) has been killed in a car accident, yet the next morning she wakes up and finds him sitting at their breakfast nook. Over and over in PREMONITION Linda experiences this tragic week out of chronology. The police officer who told her about the accident doesn't recognize her during a traffic stop. A female co-worker of her husband's shows up at the funeral and claims to have spoken with Linda a day or two earlier, something she has no memory of. Is she losing her mind, or are their supernatural forces at work?
Frantically Linda attempts to change this foreseen future. She never knows which day of the week it will be when she wakes, leading her behavior to become increasingly erratic. Her mother fears for the well-being of Linda and her daughters to the point where she has no choice but to have the grieving widow committed. Linda slowly pieces together the events of each weekday, but try as she might, it seems that she's a helpless participant in what's happening.
Like a dramatic version of GROUNDHOG DAY, Linda is doomed to relive a terrible week until she learns her lesson in PREMONITION. Caught in a loop that brings to the forefront the rut in her marriage, Linda is forced to examine her feelings about Jim and where their relationship is headed, assuming she can save his life. PREMONITION'S way of dressing its marital crisis material in TWILIGHT ZONE garb grabs attention but looks flimsy upon further inspection. The payoff certainly isn't worth all the fuss of the narrative trickery. The framework holds interest for awhile, but it becomes apparent that it is little more than a method of disguising a pedestrian story. The mysterious circumstances aren't explained except in the most general (and unsatisfactory) terms.
PREMONITION repeatedly breaks continuity in its shuffled storyline. As I understand the film, there are not alternate realities but one predestined path which Linda finds herself in time and time again. Either director Mennan Yapo is cheating in some early scenes, something which I'll consider allowable in establishing what's to come, or the filmmaker is as confused about the timeline and universe within the movie. Continuity problems persist, which suggests the latter is the correct observation.
Despite its shortcomings, PREMONITION is watchable with the hope of greater meaning being revealed in the end. Bullock does a credible job as the conflicted Linda, who mourns her husband's death yet harbors a grudge against him because of what she uncovers during the week's proceedings. If PREMONITION had the foresight to bind its loose ends with a sturdier conclusion, it might have worked as a modest reflection on breaking emotional stasis. Instead, the film leaves the audience retracing steps in the Möbius strip of a plot and feeling like it ended where it began.
Grade: C
Linda Hanson (Sandra Bullock) is informed that her husband Jim (Julian McMahon) has been killed in a car accident, yet the next morning she wakes up and finds him sitting at their breakfast nook. Over and over in PREMONITION Linda experiences this tragic week out of chronology. The police officer who told her about the accident doesn't recognize her during a traffic stop. A female co-worker of her husband's shows up at the funeral and claims to have spoken with Linda a day or two earlier, something she has no memory of. Is she losing her mind, or are their supernatural forces at work?
Frantically Linda attempts to change this foreseen future. She never knows which day of the week it will be when she wakes, leading her behavior to become increasingly erratic. Her mother fears for the well-being of Linda and her daughters to the point where she has no choice but to have the grieving widow committed. Linda slowly pieces together the events of each weekday, but try as she might, it seems that she's a helpless participant in what's happening.
Like a dramatic version of GROUNDHOG DAY, Linda is doomed to relive a terrible week until she learns her lesson in PREMONITION. Caught in a loop that brings to the forefront the rut in her marriage, Linda is forced to examine her feelings about Jim and where their relationship is headed, assuming she can save his life. PREMONITION'S way of dressing its marital crisis material in TWILIGHT ZONE garb grabs attention but looks flimsy upon further inspection. The payoff certainly isn't worth all the fuss of the narrative trickery. The framework holds interest for awhile, but it becomes apparent that it is little more than a method of disguising a pedestrian story. The mysterious circumstances aren't explained except in the most general (and unsatisfactory) terms.
PREMONITION repeatedly breaks continuity in its shuffled storyline. As I understand the film, there are not alternate realities but one predestined path which Linda finds herself in time and time again. Either director Mennan Yapo is cheating in some early scenes, something which I'll consider allowable in establishing what's to come, or the filmmaker is as confused about the timeline and universe within the movie. Continuity problems persist, which suggests the latter is the correct observation.
Despite its shortcomings, PREMONITION is watchable with the hope of greater meaning being revealed in the end. Bullock does a credible job as the conflicted Linda, who mourns her husband's death yet harbors a grudge against him because of what she uncovers during the week's proceedings. If PREMONITION had the foresight to bind its loose ends with a sturdier conclusion, it might have worked as a modest reflection on breaking emotional stasis. Instead, the film leaves the audience retracing steps in the Möbius strip of a plot and feeling like it ended where it began.
Grade: C
Monday, March 19, 2007
Cleveland Film Fest: Lazy Sunday
I've played it looser at the festival this year, skipping sessions if I feel I need to and switching what I intended to see. Only one of today's films was originally on my list, but the changes likely paid off.Since I had seen three of the films playing during Sunday's second round, it was a choice between one thatI had serious reservations about and one that I expected even less from. I disliked director Jamie Babbitt's BUT I'M A CHEERLEADER and thought THE QUIET was one of last year's worst films. That didn't bode well for ITTY BITTY TITTY COMMITTEE. The other option was HERO TOMORROW, a locally made film that may be brilliant for all I know. Fair or not, I'm pretty skeptical about the quality of local films, so ITTY BITTY won out. A colleague didn't like it but gave it a middling review, which was good enough in this instance.
Babbitt, a Shaker Heights native, was on hand to introduce her film. Plastic surgery clinic receptionist Anna (Melonie Diaz) falls in with a feminist group dubbed Clits in Action. The CIA is dedicated to bringing down what they perceive as the phallo-centric nature of the culture. Through guerilla actions, like spray painting and illegal art installations, they challenge the representations of women in the media and advertising, particularly anything regarding female body image.
Punk rock and Day-Glo aesthetics clash in this comic film of self-discovery and political action. The bright colors and slick visuals in the main story are interrupted by DIY music montage sequences in grainier film stock. That disconnect works for ITTY BITTY TITTY COMMITTEE, but the separation between the personal and political themes don't always coalesce. Babbitt isn't always sure if what she's addressing is an issue for women or lesbians. (The CIA members are either gay or curious.) Also, while it's sort of unfair to hold this film to a standard not expected of others, isn't there a little hypocrisy in telling women it doesn't matter what their body shapes are yet casting thin, attractive actresses in almost every primary role?
ITTY BITTY TITTY COMMITTEE does poke some fun at the earnestness of its characters. The CIA gets wrapped up in their wannabe Guerilla Girls activities and the impact they think they're having until they realize that the only people visiting their website are in the group. Where the film falters is in building their largest mission around opposing an anniversary celebration of the Washington Monument. Because it's really a big penis. It's this sort of juvenile attitude passing for political acumen that makes it hard to take the worthwhile ideas seriously.
Babbitt shows drastic improvement from her first two films to this one. It seems that she wants to make sweet, campy movies that have something to say about homosexuality and feminism. She's got the sweetness and campiness down, but she needs help integrating her messages.
And now for something completely different. Based on my negative reaction to LOOKING FOR LEONARD, I changed my mind about seeing Matt Bissonnette's new film WHO LOVES THE SUN. Instead I went to THE RAPE OF EUROPA. Sounds like a barrel of fun, doesn't it?
The doc is concerned with the Nazi plundering of art and cultural treasures during World War II and the measures that museum workers took to safeguard their precious collections. Workers at the Louvre and Hermitage cobbled together evacuation plans to keep their most important items from being stolen. Although decades in the past, the story continues with legal skirmishes waged over the rightful ownership of paintings taken at the time. The sheer volume of artwork the Nazis stole, hid, and destroyed is mind-boggling. In one sense, it's a miracle anything survived.
THE RAPE OF EUROPA also looks at the damage inflicted on architecture during the war and the repairs still being done today. Allied commanders had to decide what they would attack and bomb despite the historic or artistic value of the buildings. Information like this keeps the documentary fresh.
I wouldn't be surprised if THE RAPE OF EUROPA turns up on PBS or The History Channel at some point. It's a solid piece of work that presents a unique aspect about the war. The title suggests a bleaker film than it is. To be sure the loss of life in the war was a greater tragedy, but this film underscores the idea that valuable parts of culture and history were lost too.
With little time to spare, I zipped to the other side of the theaters to catch THE TRACKER. It is screening in the Director's Spotlight sidebar on Rolf de Heer. David Gulpilil of WALKABOUT fame is featured as the aboriginal man leading three men through the outback to find The Fugitive (Noel Wilton), a native accused of killing a white woman in 1922 Australia. The search party consists of The Fanatic (Gary Sweet), a mounted policeman with no regard for the lives of the aborigines; The Follower (Damon Gameau), who's new to the frontier; and The Veteran (Grant Page) drafted to assist.
de Heer elects to depict the violence through Peter Coad's paintings, a technique perhaps more effective than the explicit reality we've come to expect in films. It's still obvious that what The Fanatic does out of righteousness is terrible. If anything, it brings it to attention more because there's little in the way of graphic violence to look past.
Gulplil gives a commanding performance as The Tracker. He's a complex character, one whose actions and motivations are hard to divine. Why would he choose to hunt down one of his own, who will certainly be marked for death regardless of if he is innocent? Is he leading them on a wild goose chase? Through the smallest facial expressions Gulplil suggests a greater intellect than the others believe him capable of and a lifetime of suffering that he laughs away on the surface.
Boasting some outstanding location shooting and a powerful message about Australia's racist past, THE TRACKER was a fine way to bring my first jaunt to this year's festival to a close. There weren't any films I was dying to see at the day's last two sessions. Plus, I was weary enough that the thought of getting home at a decent hour was more appealing.
I kept true to my word to keep from going bonkers by seeing as much as I could. I'm in much better shape than if I'd crammed in films in the seven slots I left empty. I'll be back at it this Thursday through Sunday.
Prior Cleveland International Film Festival entries
-March 16: Back at the Cleveland Film Festival
-March 16: WHAT MEANS MOTLEY?
-March 16: STILL ALIVE, REPRISE, and LIQUID VINYL
-March 17: ANGOSTO, LOOKING FOR LEONARD, RED ROAD, A GRAVE-KEEPER'S TALE, and COLD PREY
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Cleveland Film Fest: St. Patrick's Day
Cleveland parties like no city I've ever seen for St. Patrick's Day, not that I've been in that many cities on the day. Having been caught unaware by the local celebration last year, I was more prepared to beat the mass of people flocking downtown and taking up all the closest parking spaces. A festival worker gave me a tip as to when would be a good time to arrive. I got up earlier than I would have liked, but it was worth avoiding the hassle of parking a long distance from the festival.I used the extra time to have some coffee and write. Although I arrived more than an hour before my first film, I misremembered the starting time. I walked in during the opening credits of ANGOSTO (LA NOCHE DE LOS GIRASOLES). I knew I didn't miss much (if anything relevant), yet I had the nagging feeling that I lacked a key bit of information. It turned out that I wasn't out of the loop, but that may have contributed to my feeling that the film wasn't leading to anything.
ANGOSTO is told in six chapters, each of which focuses on a different character to advance the story of violence and revenge. While there is some slight reversing in time to begin the chapters, the story unfolds linearly.
Local resident Beni (Fernando Sánchez-Cabezudo) discovers the entrance to a cave near his rural Spanish town. The community hopes that the find might generate tourism, especially if prehistoric paintings exist on the cave's walls. They call in Esteban (Carmelo Gómez), a speleologist, to explore the location. His girlfriend Gabi (Judith Diakhate) makes a surprise visit to the town along with the replacement photographer who is to follow Esteban into the cave. While they go about their surveying work, Gabi bides her time in the hills, whereupon a stranger attacks her. This event puts the rest of the film in motion.
Writer-director Jorge Sánchez-Cabezudo does a good job of developing several characters and keeping the story moving forward even when he has to backtrack to find the entry point to shift perspective. A well-made film with strong performances, ANGOSTO hooks you with the question of what will happen next. That it doesn't lead to anything (as far as I'm concerned) makes it ultimately feel like an exercise in style. Perhaps the film is intended to be a comment on the vicious circle of violence and revenge, but I'd like something more concrete than what we get here. As with BABEL, I can admire the filmmaking skill in linking everything, but would it kill these films to have meaning?
ANGOSTO has held up reasonably well upon reflection, and it certainly was a far sight better than my next film. The running time is a shade over two hours, not 100 minutes, which put me up against the start of LOOKING FOR LEONARD. In retrospect I would have been better off skipping this French Canadian dud.
The festival chose director Matt Bissonnette as "Someone To Watch" and is showing LOOKING FOR LEONARD, his debut film co-directed with Steven Clark, and his latest WHO LOVES THE SUN. After watching the excruciating LEONARD, I switched my plans to see his follow-up.
Montreal slackers Jo (Kim Huffman), her boyfriend Ted (Benjamin Ratner), and his brother Johnny (Darcy Belsher) break up their boredom by robbing convenience stores and dry cleaners. They're not getting rich, but it pays the bills. Ted and Johnny are getting tired of the smalltime stuff and want to begin robbing banks.
Meanwhile, Czech immigrant Luka (Joel Bissonnette) arrives in his new home country to find his furnished apartment not to be entirely what he expected and his promised computer job non-existent. He observes Jo brazenly shoplifting and decides to give her some pointers on how to be less conspicuous. They hit it off and go back to her place, but something goes wrong that will changes their lives significantly.
First-time writers are instructed to write what they know, but so many new filmmakers get seduced by trying to recreate what they've seen in the movies that they end up making something completely phony. Maybe Bissonnette knows the life of petty crime, but I doubt it. More likely he's familiar with the fiction writing class that Jo takes with her friend Monica (Molly Parker). There's not a single honest moment in LOOKING FOR LEONARD, just a bunch of low budget indie fallback ideas of what might sell.
There's a lot of talking, but the dialogue isn't funny or interesting. Lines are larded with unnatural sounding vulgarities. This is a film in which the characters definitely don't know how to swear. The story is a non-starter which makes LEONARD'S 87 minutes feel like twice that. While apparently set in contemporary times--references to a Suzanne Vega song, PRETTY WOMAN, and computer work peg this at least as being in the 90s--the fashion and set decoration suggest that it's set a couple decades earlier.
The title refers to Leonard Cohen, a Montreal resident whose BEAUTIFUL LOSERS Jo is reading. He's seen in some archival footage, but such scenes and his connection to the film are metaphorical. The characters aren't looking for Leonard Cohen but rather meaning in their lives.
After that disaster I skipped the late afternoon session. The African film BAMAKO had been on my radar, but despite the generally strong reviews, everything I've read about it makes it sound insufferable. Another Columbus critic at the festival saw some of it but walked out on it yesterday. That was all the excuse I needed to take a break. I considered going to THE OLD GARDEN, the latest from Im Sang-soo, but I wasn't that taken with THE PRESIDENT'S LAST BANG to feel like Im's film was worth the likely 112 minute slog. Since Tower City Center was swarming with people, so I needed the extra time to get something to eat anyway.
RED ROAD was next. Jackie (Kate Dickie) works for Glasgow surveillance firm City Eye. With a bank of monitors in front of her, she is constantly on the lookout for crimes on the streets. One day she recognizes Clyde (Tony Curran). He has some connection to her past, although what it is remains unclear to the audience for much of the film's duration.
Jackie obsesses on Clyde being released from prison back into civilian life and watches his moves via the monitors. She goes further and begins to follow him in person. Eventually she inserts herself into his social circle. He doesn't recognize her at all, which begs the question of what Jackie's fixation is on him.
Like ANGOSTO, RED ROAD displays terrific skill in its construction and excellent performances by its lead characters. Dickie's daring work brings to mind Emily Watson's immersive acting in BREAKING THE WAVES, and Curran conveys menacing charm that keeps Clyde unpredictable.
Director Andrea Arnold has made a rigorous character study akin to the films of Lodge Kerrigan. It's not without merit, but the question is if the key bit of withheld information is worth the long wait. I don't think it was, especially since a reasonable assumption can be made about what the secret is.
This may be a case of where preconceptions based on the festival program description led me to expect a different film. I wouldn't call it "an intense thriller".
With the day's three films all treading water in narrative terms, A GRAVE-KEEPER'S TALE (MAATI MAAY) was a nice change of pace. The residents of an Indian village warn their kids of the Ghoul, an evil female spirit who tends to those buried in a children's graveyard. One look at her could be deadly. Like the other kids, Bhagirath fears her evil eye. He asks his father Narsu about the Ghoul and is stunned to hear that she is his mother. The bulk of the film is devoted to Narsu telling Bhagirath how the once beautiful woman became shunned from their community.
I acknowledge that there is a culture gap I have with India, so perhaps my feelings that A GRAVE-KEEPER'S TALE is more radical in its messages promoting education and questioning traditions of inequality aren't accurate. Whatever the case, this simple film entertains and informs.
I know I vowed not to attend the midnight screenings, but it felt more appropriate to see the Norwegian slasher film COLD PREY (FRITT VILT) at the witching hour than at noon. It's a wonder that Lionsgate hasn't picked this up for domestic distribution because it's a far sight better than most of the horror films released here these days. It's a thoroughly mainstream piece of filmmaking...and the most entertained I've been out of the nine films I've seen at the Cleveland fest.
Five snowboarders hole up in an abandoned ski lodge when one of them breaks a leg going down the mountain. Unable to get cell phone reception and too far from their car or a town to walk to help, they settle in at the shuttered hotel for the night. Little do they know that they are not alone. Dwelling in the basement is an axe-wielding serial killer responsible for many other disappearances in the area.
The scenario is boilerplate horror film, but director Roar Uthaug livens up the proceedings with some novel twists on the formula and an emphasis on character development. More often than not the victims-to-be aren't distinguishable aside from one stock trait, but COLD PREY builds backgrounds and motivations for each one outside of their basic desire to endure the circumstances.
It's also great that the snowboarders behave intelligently, for the most part, and are decent people. The current wave of horror favors obnoxious characters whose survival is cheered against, a dispiriting quality I've noticed in the hours I've logged seeeing all this crap. Uthaug understands a fundamental truth of horror: it's scarier if you are invested in the characters and want to see them live.
On the other hand, the killer is a device rather than a monster with a complicated origin tale. It's refreshing to have a film dispense with mumbo jumbo psychology attempting to provide some awful and mundane history for the villain. THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE: THE BEGINNING and the BLACK CHRISTMAS remake provide evidence that knowing the reason for the killer's genesis doesn't make him scary. Nevertheless, there's a surprise about his background at the very end that is a nice touch.
Performance is often negligible in films like these, but Ingrid Bolsø Berdal is worth recognizing as the heroine Jannicke. She projects toughness, sensitivity, and smarts. It's silly to guess about her career prospects, but if this were a Hollywood film, I think it would provide an avenue for more serious roles.
While there's plenty of blood shed, COLD PREY doesn't rely on a lot of graphic violence to jolt the audience. Maybe this looks better to me because in recent years I've seen so many bad hack 'em-up films trying to outdo each other in the gore department.
And with that, I called it a night.
Prior Cleveland International Film Festival entries
-Back at the Cleveland Film Festival
-WHAT MEANS MOTLEY?
-The rest of my March 16 recap
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Cleveland Film Fest: One director, two writers, and a lot of DJs
As a big fan of the Three Colors trilogy, THE DOUBLE LIFE OF VERONIQUE, and THE DECALOGUE films that I've seen, the documentary STILL ALIVE: A FILM ABOUT KRZYSZTOF KIESLOWSKI was a must for my festival viewing. Through Kieslowski's own words and those of friends and collaborators, director Maria Zmarz-Koczanowicz traces the story of his days as a student until his untimely death in 1996.
This talking heads doc can be a bit dry, but overall it's an educational look at his roots and eventual ascendency to world cinema titan in the late 80s and early 90s. It's also a film for true believers in that it's of interest almost exclusively for those familiar with the Polish director's work, or at least the better known movies. Still, those like me, who know his last few films and haven't seen his early documentaries or BLIND CHANCE, NO END, or CAMERA BUFF, may feel on the outside looking in at times. Although this might sound like a backhanded compliment, it would be a good supplemental feature in a DVD box set of his earlier films.
I ended up bailing on the the 4:15 session. I'd penciled in the Hungarian film FRESH AIR, but I decided to take my time getting lunch/dinner and doing some writing. At Panera Bread I bumped into Rolf de Heer, who's in the director's spotlight at the festival. He must not have cared for what he saw because he left without ordering. As filmmaker spotting goes at festivals, I've seen stranger things--Bertrand Tavernier at Steak 'n Shake, John Malkovich in line at the Illini Student Union coffee shop, Todd Solondz wandering this very mall--but this sort of thing amuses me.
I set up shop at Panera, primarily because their wifi service doesn't block Blogger/Blogspot URLs. (Tower City Center's filtering program does.) I don't know if a couple hours off made the difference, but I felt reenergized for the rest of the day after taking the break.
The Norwegian film REPRISE focuses on best friends and aspiring writers Phillip (Anders Danielsen Lie) and Erik (Espen Klouman-Høiner). Mixing drama and comedy, director Joachim Trier fashions a character study of these two young men and those within their social circle. Phillip struggles with depression after his debut novel is published. Erik gets hung up on the gap between what he wants to be and what his life is.
REPRISE has elements of French New Wave filmmaking (the narration, story construction, themes, and editing) and would feel comfortable beside other tales of young adult uncertainty, such as the films of Noan Baumbach. It's witty without being too self-aware and buzzes with youthful energy. The exciting and exasperating quality in this time of life is anticipating big things for the future yet not quite being able to reach them. Hopefully Trier's promising first feature translates into the kind of success his characters think they can have.
Music docs are almost always a safe festival bet, assuming you like the music in them. I'm clueless when it comes to dance music, but I figured a documentary about DJs would prove to be an easier view for wrapping a full day.
Taylor Neary's documentary LIQUID VINYL includes interviews with plenty of the top DJs in the world expounding on the history of DJing and value of their work. The film's strongest aspect is showing how DJs evolved from being anonymous people in a booth to the center of attention and main attraction to the people on the dance floor. For all the talk about how being a DJ is about keeping the party going and introducing people to great music, there's more emphasis on the personalities than on how the DJs do what they do, though.
LIQUID VINYL can be self-serving at times. Any film like this tends to overstate the importance of the subject, which is to be expected when speaking to people who believe passionately in their work.
I would have liked more discussion about how technology is changing what DJs do. Anyone with a computer can make music playlists and do simple audio editing to mix it all together. That issue, more than illegal downloads and flagging dance music sales, seems to have a potentially greater impact on DJ careers. When an iPod can do your job, the big bucks the best-known DJs can command start to seem out of whack.
These quibbles aside, LIQUID VINYL does what a good DJ should: keep the music rolling, the tempo up, and the feeling positive. Like the Kieslowski doc, it's probably only for those with predisposed interest in the topic, but it serves it's niche audience well enough.
This talking heads doc can be a bit dry, but overall it's an educational look at his roots and eventual ascendency to world cinema titan in the late 80s and early 90s. It's also a film for true believers in that it's of interest almost exclusively for those familiar with the Polish director's work, or at least the better known movies. Still, those like me, who know his last few films and haven't seen his early documentaries or BLIND CHANCE, NO END, or CAMERA BUFF, may feel on the outside looking in at times. Although this might sound like a backhanded compliment, it would be a good supplemental feature in a DVD box set of his earlier films.
I ended up bailing on the the 4:15 session. I'd penciled in the Hungarian film FRESH AIR, but I decided to take my time getting lunch/dinner and doing some writing. At Panera Bread I bumped into Rolf de Heer, who's in the director's spotlight at the festival. He must not have cared for what he saw because he left without ordering. As filmmaker spotting goes at festivals, I've seen stranger things--Bertrand Tavernier at Steak 'n Shake, John Malkovich in line at the Illini Student Union coffee shop, Todd Solondz wandering this very mall--but this sort of thing amuses me.
I set up shop at Panera, primarily because their wifi service doesn't block Blogger/Blogspot URLs. (Tower City Center's filtering program does.) I don't know if a couple hours off made the difference, but I felt reenergized for the rest of the day after taking the break.
The Norwegian film REPRISE focuses on best friends and aspiring writers Phillip (Anders Danielsen Lie) and Erik (Espen Klouman-Høiner). Mixing drama and comedy, director Joachim Trier fashions a character study of these two young men and those within their social circle. Phillip struggles with depression after his debut novel is published. Erik gets hung up on the gap between what he wants to be and what his life is.
REPRISE has elements of French New Wave filmmaking (the narration, story construction, themes, and editing) and would feel comfortable beside other tales of young adult uncertainty, such as the films of Noan Baumbach. It's witty without being too self-aware and buzzes with youthful energy. The exciting and exasperating quality in this time of life is anticipating big things for the future yet not quite being able to reach them. Hopefully Trier's promising first feature translates into the kind of success his characters think they can have.
Music docs are almost always a safe festival bet, assuming you like the music in them. I'm clueless when it comes to dance music, but I figured a documentary about DJs would prove to be an easier view for wrapping a full day.
Taylor Neary's documentary LIQUID VINYL includes interviews with plenty of the top DJs in the world expounding on the history of DJing and value of their work. The film's strongest aspect is showing how DJs evolved from being anonymous people in a booth to the center of attention and main attraction to the people on the dance floor. For all the talk about how being a DJ is about keeping the party going and introducing people to great music, there's more emphasis on the personalities than on how the DJs do what they do, though.
LIQUID VINYL can be self-serving at times. Any film like this tends to overstate the importance of the subject, which is to be expected when speaking to people who believe passionately in their work.
I would have liked more discussion about how technology is changing what DJs do. Anyone with a computer can make music playlists and do simple audio editing to mix it all together. That issue, more than illegal downloads and flagging dance music sales, seems to have a potentially greater impact on DJ careers. When an iPod can do your job, the big bucks the best-known DJs can command start to seem out of whack.
These quibbles aside, LIQUID VINYL does what a good DJ should: keep the music rolling, the tempo up, and the feeling positive. Like the Kieslowski doc, it's probably only for those with predisposed interest in the topic, but it serves it's niche audience well enough.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Cleveland Film Festival: What Means Motley?
I rolled into the Tower City Center parking area about an hour before my first film was to start. Parking was already tight, so I can only imagine what it will be like Saturday with the St. Patrick’s Day parade downtown.I wanted to kick off the festival with something light, so first up was WHAT MEANS MOTLEY? The film is based on a real immigration scam from 1999. With a gift for blarney, Mickey Moynihan (Barry Mulligan) convinces the Irish Consul in Romania (Eamon Rohan) that his ragtag 41 Romanians with no musical abilities whatsoever are a gypsy choir. He's seeking visa approval for them to travel to Ireland for a music festival.
Mickey may be a crook, but he desires for these wannabe illegal immigrants to make it alive to their destination. Hiding them in plain view and tricking a government official can help him do that.
WHAT MEANS MOTLEY? has a terribly scattered beginning. Several people are introduced, with some of the set-ups not being essential to the story. The predicament Catalina (Irina Dinescu) is in--her father gambles her away to a gypsy gangster--spurs Mickey to whip up the scam, but her story could just as well have been handled with a line about needing to escape the country. While this scenario-driven film needs more character work, it squanders time by focusing on less critical details like this.
Essentially a less polished version of bumbling criminal movies--think of what the Coen brothers could do with this--and British arthouse crowd pleasers like THE FULL MONTY, WHAT MEANS MOTLEY? gets by with some solid pacing and an amiable nature. It's not all that funny or constructed well enough to work, but it's tolerable in a mediocre sitcom way.
Still to come...the documentary STILL ALIVE-A FILM ABOUT KRZYSZTOF KIESLOWSKI, the Norwegian dramedy REPRISE, and the DJ doc LIQUID VINYL.
Back at the Cleveland Film Festival
March madness of a different sort begins for me today, although I intend to practice better judgment than last year to make what I’m doing seem a little less crazy. I’m talking about the Cleveland International Film Festival and my third time attending. Two years ago I took in ten films in two days. Last year I gorged, seeing something during every session in my six days at the fest.
What drives such obsessive film viewing is a love of movies, obviously. Combining that with a press pass that grants unlimited access to screenings and the belief that this might be the only opportunity to see some of these films can be dangerous. Sure, it can be fun shuffling from theater to theater from 9:30 in the morning until the midnight session ends, but sometimes the pace can be downright brutal. Add in trying to find time to write, eat, and sleep (in that order), and you can imagine that there’s a line where fun becomes exhaustion.
I’ve promised myself that I won’t push to my physical and mental limits during my two stints at the 2007 festival. (I’m here for the weekend and returning again on Thursday.) Unless there’s something I absolutely must see, I’m skipping the 9:30 a.m. and midnight sessions. That still gives me the potential of seeing five films per day, which isn’t exactly a light schedule. I’ve already been to seven press/promo screenings this week, so it’s not like I’m in movie withdrawal.
If nothing in a session sounds particularly appealing, I’ll take it off. I’ve seen my share of good films here in the past, but I’ve also caught some real lousy ones too. (Try having a day in which you see six films and like none or one of them.) Chances are that if something doesn’t sound appealing from the festival program description and whatever other information I’ve dug up, it’s not worth the trouble. Maybe I’ll miss some masterwork, but I kind of doubt it.
What drives such obsessive film viewing is a love of movies, obviously. Combining that with a press pass that grants unlimited access to screenings and the belief that this might be the only opportunity to see some of these films can be dangerous. Sure, it can be fun shuffling from theater to theater from 9:30 in the morning until the midnight session ends, but sometimes the pace can be downright brutal. Add in trying to find time to write, eat, and sleep (in that order), and you can imagine that there’s a line where fun becomes exhaustion.
I’ve promised myself that I won’t push to my physical and mental limits during my two stints at the 2007 festival. (I’m here for the weekend and returning again on Thursday.) Unless there’s something I absolutely must see, I’m skipping the 9:30 a.m. and midnight sessions. That still gives me the potential of seeing five films per day, which isn’t exactly a light schedule. I’ve already been to seven press/promo screenings this week, so it’s not like I’m in movie withdrawal.
If nothing in a session sounds particularly appealing, I’ll take it off. I’ve seen my share of good films here in the past, but I’ve also caught some real lousy ones too. (Try having a day in which you see six films and like none or one of them.) Chances are that if something doesn’t sound appealing from the festival program description and whatever other information I’ve dug up, it’s not worth the trouble. Maybe I’ll miss some masterwork, but I kind of doubt it.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The Lives of Others (Das Leben der Anderen)
THE LIVES OF OTHERS (DAS LEBEN DER ANDEREN) (Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, 2006)
Armed with the ability and authority to monitor anyone worthy of suspicion, the East German secret police, known as the Stasi, were a fearsome force in the former Communist country. Tasked to know everything about the lives of the population, the Stasi relied on a web of informers and surveillance on a level that approaches omniscience regarding its subjects.
Typically on the observing end, THE LIVES OF OTHERS finds the Stasi under scrutiny in 1984 East Berlin. Captain Gerd Wiesler (Ulrich Mühe) is assigned to keep an eye and ear on Georg Dreyman (Sebastian Koch), a playwright heretofore believed to be friendly to the government. Minister Bruno Hempf (Thomas Thieme) alleges that the writer may not be as loyal as everyone thinks and strongly encourages that he be put under total surveillance.
The action appears driven more by the Minister's interest in Dreyman's actress girlfriend Christa-Maria Sieland (Martina Gedeck) than any tangible proof of subversion, but Wiesler carries out his duty to bug Dreyman's home and listen in on his every move and conversation. Initially Dreyman gives no indication that he harbors opinions counter to the ruling party, but as the oppressive regime's power is felt on a personal level, Dreyman begins to become the radical Hempf suggested he was.
As a Cold War thriller, THE LIVES OF OTHERS is gripping stuff replete with the nuts and bolts of all-encompassing surveillance. It's fascinating to see the lightning efficiency and near-invisibility of Wiesler's crew and his chilling admonition to a neighbor who accidentally witnesses the wiring of Dreyman's apartment. The film even finds time for blips of humor, such as the thorough reports documenting the most intimate (and inessential) details of their subjects' activities. Conversely, it's also interesting to observe how the monitored would take measures to sidestep suspected spying. It's a tantalizing game of cat and mouse except for the fact that people's lives were on the line in these scenarios.
The film's greater impact, though, is as a dramatic study of the characters and their circumstances. Ostensibly the bad guy, at least at first, Wiesler's transformation from a hardline member of the Stasi to a sympathizer with those he is surveilling is where THE LIVES OF OTHERS is strongest. In a delicate performance the stone-faced Mühe conveys Wiesler's crumbling fortitude as he invests everything he has in the lives of Dreyman and Sieland. With little to no life of his own, how could he not become tangled up in the welfare of these people leading lives he could only wish he had?
Much is made of changing hearts and minds in times of war. In being privy to lifestyles and ideas he is told are wrong, Wiesler is confronted with a decision that he may believe to be right but which will also lead to certain ruin for him. The Stasi may have desired to know everything about the lives of others, but what it couldn't know, or what it may have feared being known, is that the very thing they were trying to squash offered the hope that would be their undoing.
Grade: B+
Armed with the ability and authority to monitor anyone worthy of suspicion, the East German secret police, known as the Stasi, were a fearsome force in the former Communist country. Tasked to know everything about the lives of the population, the Stasi relied on a web of informers and surveillance on a level that approaches omniscience regarding its subjects.
Typically on the observing end, THE LIVES OF OTHERS finds the Stasi under scrutiny in 1984 East Berlin. Captain Gerd Wiesler (Ulrich Mühe) is assigned to keep an eye and ear on Georg Dreyman (Sebastian Koch), a playwright heretofore believed to be friendly to the government. Minister Bruno Hempf (Thomas Thieme) alleges that the writer may not be as loyal as everyone thinks and strongly encourages that he be put under total surveillance.
The action appears driven more by the Minister's interest in Dreyman's actress girlfriend Christa-Maria Sieland (Martina Gedeck) than any tangible proof of subversion, but Wiesler carries out his duty to bug Dreyman's home and listen in on his every move and conversation. Initially Dreyman gives no indication that he harbors opinions counter to the ruling party, but as the oppressive regime's power is felt on a personal level, Dreyman begins to become the radical Hempf suggested he was.
As a Cold War thriller, THE LIVES OF OTHERS is gripping stuff replete with the nuts and bolts of all-encompassing surveillance. It's fascinating to see the lightning efficiency and near-invisibility of Wiesler's crew and his chilling admonition to a neighbor who accidentally witnesses the wiring of Dreyman's apartment. The film even finds time for blips of humor, such as the thorough reports documenting the most intimate (and inessential) details of their subjects' activities. Conversely, it's also interesting to observe how the monitored would take measures to sidestep suspected spying. It's a tantalizing game of cat and mouse except for the fact that people's lives were on the line in these scenarios.
The film's greater impact, though, is as a dramatic study of the characters and their circumstances. Ostensibly the bad guy, at least at first, Wiesler's transformation from a hardline member of the Stasi to a sympathizer with those he is surveilling is where THE LIVES OF OTHERS is strongest. In a delicate performance the stone-faced Mühe conveys Wiesler's crumbling fortitude as he invests everything he has in the lives of Dreyman and Sieland. With little to no life of his own, how could he not become tangled up in the welfare of these people leading lives he could only wish he had?
Much is made of changing hearts and minds in times of war. In being privy to lifestyles and ideas he is told are wrong, Wiesler is confronted with a decision that he may believe to be right but which will also lead to certain ruin for him. The Stasi may have desired to know everything about the lives of others, but what it couldn't know, or what it may have feared being known, is that the very thing they were trying to squash offered the hope that would be their undoing.
Grade: B+
Monday, March 12, 2007
Zodiac
ZODIAC (David Fincher, 2007)
Based on the unsolved case, the decades-spanning ZODIAC documents the intensive search for a killer who haunted Bay Area citizens and taunted authorities with promises of unpreventable future murders. In letters to three San Francisco newspapers, the man calling himself the Zodiac claims responsibility for lover's lane killings at Christmastime 1968 and on July 4, 1969. To add validity to his claims the correspondence includes details not made available to the public. The cryptograms that come with the letters supposedly reveal his true identity.
Police officers and newspapermen following the case can't help but become obsessed. Inspectors David Toschii (Mark Ruffalo) and William Armstrong (Anthony Edwards) are dogged in following leads, but they encounter a maze of dead ends. Police at the various jurisdictions involved with the Zodiac's alleged victims haven't shared their information and can be uncooperative in doing so.
San Francisco Chronicle cartoonist Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal) pores over the cryptograms and collects any scrap of knowledge he can find, including the discarded papers of reporter Paul Avery (Robert Downey Jr.). The case drags on for years, yet Robert plunges even deeper into it assured that he can crack the investigation.
Director David Fincher lets ZODIAC unspool at a leisurely pace that permits it to examine evidence and details over a long period of time. The film leaves no stone unturned, a defining trait both admirable for how it draws a portrait of obsession and questionable for entertainment purposes. ZODIAC'S thoroughness is unparalleled among police procedurals, but all the shoe leather can become tedious. Granted, that's the point. The exhaustive process becomes all-consuming, and Fincher encapsulates that frustrating pursuit well. Perhaps he does it too well because the bogged down section devoted to the investigators gets tiresome.
Unlike THE NUMBER 23, a film undone by the silly and nonsensical, ZODIAC dives headlong into obsession and rationalizes it. As audience members trained to spot red herrings and foreshadowing in movie mysteries, we begin to believe we're finding clues and connections to bring about a satisfying resolution when one cannot be found. Like it does for Graysmith, the answer seems within reach even though going in one knows that the case was never solved. Still, that doesn't squelch thoughts that history can be changed within the confines of the film.
As obsession will lead people to do strange things, so will fear. It's also a driving force in ZODIAC and one that Fincher uses to connect these unsolved murders to today. The director doesn't equate the Zodiac and Middle Eastern terrorists, but it seems apparent that he's interested in linking how living in fear of them fulfills their goals too. While the threats both present are real or legitimately accepted as such, the likelihood of them directly impacting any individual's life is exponentially greater via their function as boogeymen. Yet parents pull kids off buses because the Zodiac threatens to shoot children unboarding from them. Airline passengers aren't permitted to bring liquids or toothpaste onto planes for fear of terrorist plots. In the minds of the public, both are granted extraordinary powers out of fear. (If you're seeking direct evidence of Fincher comparing the times, look no further than how he depicts the bureaucratic roadblocks in information sharing about the Zodiac, a section that echoes pre-9/11 intelligence gathering.)
An elegant sequence in ZODIAC shows the passage of time in the case while recreating the construction of one of the Bay's signature buildings. Similarly, the story is built beam by beam, but Fincher tweaks the final design of what we expect in the architecture of a serial killer movie. Doors don't lead where they normally do, and some rooms can never be unlocked. For that reason ZODIAC can be a vexing film, but its style and ideas compensate for the thwarting of conventions.
Grade: B
Based on the unsolved case, the decades-spanning ZODIAC documents the intensive search for a killer who haunted Bay Area citizens and taunted authorities with promises of unpreventable future murders. In letters to three San Francisco newspapers, the man calling himself the Zodiac claims responsibility for lover's lane killings at Christmastime 1968 and on July 4, 1969. To add validity to his claims the correspondence includes details not made available to the public. The cryptograms that come with the letters supposedly reveal his true identity.
Police officers and newspapermen following the case can't help but become obsessed. Inspectors David Toschii (Mark Ruffalo) and William Armstrong (Anthony Edwards) are dogged in following leads, but they encounter a maze of dead ends. Police at the various jurisdictions involved with the Zodiac's alleged victims haven't shared their information and can be uncooperative in doing so.
San Francisco Chronicle cartoonist Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal) pores over the cryptograms and collects any scrap of knowledge he can find, including the discarded papers of reporter Paul Avery (Robert Downey Jr.). The case drags on for years, yet Robert plunges even deeper into it assured that he can crack the investigation.
Director David Fincher lets ZODIAC unspool at a leisurely pace that permits it to examine evidence and details over a long period of time. The film leaves no stone unturned, a defining trait both admirable for how it draws a portrait of obsession and questionable for entertainment purposes. ZODIAC'S thoroughness is unparalleled among police procedurals, but all the shoe leather can become tedious. Granted, that's the point. The exhaustive process becomes all-consuming, and Fincher encapsulates that frustrating pursuit well. Perhaps he does it too well because the bogged down section devoted to the investigators gets tiresome.
Unlike THE NUMBER 23, a film undone by the silly and nonsensical, ZODIAC dives headlong into obsession and rationalizes it. As audience members trained to spot red herrings and foreshadowing in movie mysteries, we begin to believe we're finding clues and connections to bring about a satisfying resolution when one cannot be found. Like it does for Graysmith, the answer seems within reach even though going in one knows that the case was never solved. Still, that doesn't squelch thoughts that history can be changed within the confines of the film.
As obsession will lead people to do strange things, so will fear. It's also a driving force in ZODIAC and one that Fincher uses to connect these unsolved murders to today. The director doesn't equate the Zodiac and Middle Eastern terrorists, but it seems apparent that he's interested in linking how living in fear of them fulfills their goals too. While the threats both present are real or legitimately accepted as such, the likelihood of them directly impacting any individual's life is exponentially greater via their function as boogeymen. Yet parents pull kids off buses because the Zodiac threatens to shoot children unboarding from them. Airline passengers aren't permitted to bring liquids or toothpaste onto planes for fear of terrorist plots. In the minds of the public, both are granted extraordinary powers out of fear. (If you're seeking direct evidence of Fincher comparing the times, look no further than how he depicts the bureaucratic roadblocks in information sharing about the Zodiac, a section that echoes pre-9/11 intelligence gathering.)
An elegant sequence in ZODIAC shows the passage of time in the case while recreating the construction of one of the Bay's signature buildings. Similarly, the story is built beam by beam, but Fincher tweaks the final design of what we expect in the architecture of a serial killer movie. Doors don't lead where they normally do, and some rooms can never be unlocked. For that reason ZODIAC can be a vexing film, but its style and ideas compensate for the thwarting of conventions.
Grade: B
Wild Hogs
WILD HOGS (Walt Becker, 2007)
Four motorcycling friends in need of mid-life renewal set out from Cincinnati to the Pacific Ocean in WILD HOGS. Doug Madsen (Tim Allen) is tired of having to monitor the food he eats and afraid of seeming lame to his son. Bobby Davis (Martin Lawrence) feels emasculated because his wife wears the pants in the family. Although no one else knows, Woody Stevens (John Travolta) has lost everything, including his swimsuit model wife. Dudley Frank (William H. Macy) is single and geeky. With that name, what else could he be?
The guys are in need of some time to feel young again, so they hop onto their bikes and take off for a trip to the west coast. They vow to adhere to no rules--meaning no cell phones and predetermined schedules--in their attempt to recapture the energy they had before families and mortgages came along.
Calling themselves Wild Hogs, the four guys fashion themselves to be mildly rebellious types with their motorcycles and custom leather jackets. Upon rolling into a biker bar in New Mexico, they get a crash course in what it's like to be born to be wild. Jack (Ray Liotta), the leader of the Del Fuegos, pushes them around like a bunch of rag dolls and takes Dudley's motorcycle. While three of them slink away with their tails between their legs, Woody sneaks back to the bar and inadvertently blows it up. Needless to say, the Wild Hogs have found themselves some honest to goodness trouble befitting bikers.
While the characters in WILD HOGS strive to be something they're not, the film is perfectly comfortable with its broad, predictable humor. Amid the high concept and lowest common denominator comedies, there is something reassuring about a film content to exist in the middle. Like these suburban men, WILD HOGS is safe, familiar, and generally pleasant. There's nothing here you haven't seen many times before, but the actors possess enough charisma and good spirit to charm even if there's the sneaking suspicion that their skills are in service of something mediocre.
Straight out of a western (or SEVEN SAMURAI), the guys end up becoming the defenders of a meek small town. The Del Fuegos walk all over the locals in one of those quaint communities filmmakers love to depict. It's the kind of place where everyone knows each other and some festival is going on. The guys get to stand up for themselves, and Dudley even finds a sweet café owner played by Marisa Tomei to appreciate him. Allen, Lawrence, Travolta, and Macy have a good time playing off of one another. Even though the jokes are sitcom level, it's fun to watch them interact and not try to outdo one another.
What's less appealing is the film's aggressive homophobic attitude, expressed primarily through a series of recurring jokes with John C. McGinley's highway patrolman. It's not so much that the guys are embarrassed to be mistaken for gay men but the exaggerrated panic about it. The implicit message in WILD HOGS is about reclaiming what it means to be a man. The film doesn't need to adopt an "eww, gross!" attitude toward homosexuality to build up its main characters' self-esteem, which is why the flogging of outdated stereotypes is so disappointing here. (It also could have done without making Bobby's wife a harpy of the highest order too.)
Ultimately WILD HOGS relies too much on comedic crutches like the amazing malfunctioning computer--a lame joke seen most recently in BECAUSE I SAID SO--to support the goodwill the actors earn. These Hogs have been domesticated. There's nothing wrong with settling down, a conclusion the characters arrive at, but too much of the comedy is mild, not wild. It's like laughing at a joke you've heard your uncle tell a hundred times. OK, it's sort of funny, but mostly you're doing it to humor him.
Grade: C+
Four motorcycling friends in need of mid-life renewal set out from Cincinnati to the Pacific Ocean in WILD HOGS. Doug Madsen (Tim Allen) is tired of having to monitor the food he eats and afraid of seeming lame to his son. Bobby Davis (Martin Lawrence) feels emasculated because his wife wears the pants in the family. Although no one else knows, Woody Stevens (John Travolta) has lost everything, including his swimsuit model wife. Dudley Frank (William H. Macy) is single and geeky. With that name, what else could he be?
The guys are in need of some time to feel young again, so they hop onto their bikes and take off for a trip to the west coast. They vow to adhere to no rules--meaning no cell phones and predetermined schedules--in their attempt to recapture the energy they had before families and mortgages came along.
Calling themselves Wild Hogs, the four guys fashion themselves to be mildly rebellious types with their motorcycles and custom leather jackets. Upon rolling into a biker bar in New Mexico, they get a crash course in what it's like to be born to be wild. Jack (Ray Liotta), the leader of the Del Fuegos, pushes them around like a bunch of rag dolls and takes Dudley's motorcycle. While three of them slink away with their tails between their legs, Woody sneaks back to the bar and inadvertently blows it up. Needless to say, the Wild Hogs have found themselves some honest to goodness trouble befitting bikers.
While the characters in WILD HOGS strive to be something they're not, the film is perfectly comfortable with its broad, predictable humor. Amid the high concept and lowest common denominator comedies, there is something reassuring about a film content to exist in the middle. Like these suburban men, WILD HOGS is safe, familiar, and generally pleasant. There's nothing here you haven't seen many times before, but the actors possess enough charisma and good spirit to charm even if there's the sneaking suspicion that their skills are in service of something mediocre.
Straight out of a western (or SEVEN SAMURAI), the guys end up becoming the defenders of a meek small town. The Del Fuegos walk all over the locals in one of those quaint communities filmmakers love to depict. It's the kind of place where everyone knows each other and some festival is going on. The guys get to stand up for themselves, and Dudley even finds a sweet café owner played by Marisa Tomei to appreciate him. Allen, Lawrence, Travolta, and Macy have a good time playing off of one another. Even though the jokes are sitcom level, it's fun to watch them interact and not try to outdo one another.
What's less appealing is the film's aggressive homophobic attitude, expressed primarily through a series of recurring jokes with John C. McGinley's highway patrolman. It's not so much that the guys are embarrassed to be mistaken for gay men but the exaggerrated panic about it. The implicit message in WILD HOGS is about reclaiming what it means to be a man. The film doesn't need to adopt an "eww, gross!" attitude toward homosexuality to build up its main characters' self-esteem, which is why the flogging of outdated stereotypes is so disappointing here. (It also could have done without making Bobby's wife a harpy of the highest order too.)
Ultimately WILD HOGS relies too much on comedic crutches like the amazing malfunctioning computer--a lame joke seen most recently in BECAUSE I SAID SO--to support the goodwill the actors earn. These Hogs have been domesticated. There's nothing wrong with settling down, a conclusion the characters arrive at, but too much of the comedy is mild, not wild. It's like laughing at a joke you've heard your uncle tell a hundred times. OK, it's sort of funny, but mostly you're doing it to humor him.
Grade: C+
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Cleveland flicks
Last night I attended the Columbus preview for the 31st annual Cleveland International Film Festival. Since I also had a screening of 300 to attend, I didn't have much time to stick around other than for some quick conversation and eats, but I snagged a festival guide, which makes scheduling a lot easier than the website.
For those who haven't been, Cleveland's fest is a well-run event that is remarkably easy to navigate for something of its size. It runs from March 15-25. On some days they offer as many as seven sessions, with at least five of those providing four choices, so there's plenty to see.
I'm planning to exercise a little more sanity this year, so 9:30 a.m. and midnight screenings may not make the cut for me unless there's something I really want to see. (I'm trying to think if I caught anything I liked at those times. I don't think I did.) Without those I can knock out five films a day, which is a pretty full docket even for seasoned moviegoers. It may also make it easier for me to file reports during the festival and be more lucid.
I'd have to check my lists for an exact number, but I saw several films that haven't received commercial U.S. runs or have taken a long time to get them. (In some cases, the disappearance of these films is no great loss.) So if you're interested in catching some movies that you may be hard to come by in the future, this festival is worth your time.
In other festival news, I'm set for Ebertfest 2007. The films have not yet been announced, although now that I'm posting this they'll probably be named later today.
For those who haven't been, Cleveland's fest is a well-run event that is remarkably easy to navigate for something of its size. It runs from March 15-25. On some days they offer as many as seven sessions, with at least five of those providing four choices, so there's plenty to see.
I'm planning to exercise a little more sanity this year, so 9:30 a.m. and midnight screenings may not make the cut for me unless there's something I really want to see. (I'm trying to think if I caught anything I liked at those times. I don't think I did.) Without those I can knock out five films a day, which is a pretty full docket even for seasoned moviegoers. It may also make it easier for me to file reports during the festival and be more lucid.
I'd have to check my lists for an exact number, but I saw several films that haven't received commercial U.S. runs or have taken a long time to get them. (In some cases, the disappearance of these films is no great loss.) So if you're interested in catching some movies that you may be hard to come by in the future, this festival is worth your time.
In other festival news, I'm set for Ebertfest 2007. The films have not yet been announced, although now that I'm posting this they'll probably be named later today.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Music and Lyrics
MUSIC AND LYRICS (Marc Lawrence, 2007)
In MUSIC AND LYRICS 80s pop star Alex Fletcher (Hugh Grant) gets a chance at a comeback when he's asked to pen a song for teen sensation Cora Corman (Haley Bennett). She wants to debut the new tune with him at a Madison Square Garden concert. It sounds like just the break Alex needs to abandon high school reunion and amusement park performances that have kept him afloat all these years. The catch is that Cora has solicited songs from several other composers, and the song must be finished in 48 hours.
Former co-lead singer of the disbanded group PoP!, Alex was always more at home writing the music. His agent Chris (Brad Garrett) connects him with a lyricist (Jason Antoon), but the collaborators can't get on the same page. Enter Sophie Fisher (Drew Barrymore), the clumsy substitute plant caretaker in Alex's apartment who effortlessly rattles off some lines that Alex thinks are perfect for a pop song. Desperate for the right lyrics, Alex compels Sophie to assist him. As they stay up all night sweating over every note and word, an attraction begins to form.
One of my primary complaints about the majority of today's movies is the lack of emotional truth. Be it a comic book movie or romantic comedy, moviegoers are often looking for heightened versions of reality but reality nonetheless. The actions are bolder and emotions more intense, but in the end we're seeking recognizable human behavior and feelings displayed on a larger canvas. Yet so many films fail to make their characters relatable.
Oddly enough, romantic comedies, potentially the easiest genre for depicting familiar people and scenarios, regularly get mucked up with plot contrivances that make them alien to viewer experiences. Perhaps that's why MUSIC AND LYRICS is so refreshing. Marc Lawrence's romantic comedy succeeds because it develops lovable, realistic characters. The film finds the budding couple sharing the majority of the scenes. How novel to make a romance in which the leads spend time together rather than being forced apart for arbitrary reasons. Better yet is the fact that they actually talk about the problems that creep into their relationship rather than let some absurd misunderstanding ruin what they might have.
It helps that Grant and Barrymore are charming performers with wonderful screen chemistry. Separately they've appeared in two of the best romantic comedies in recent years--adaptations of Nick Hornby's ABOUT A BOY and FEVER PITCH. There's a strong hint of Hornby's pop sensibility and romanticism here too. Together the actors shine, with Grant's foppishness counterbalanced nicely by Barrymore's easygoing goofiness. (This is a role Brittany Murphy would kill for.) She has an inspired bit of physical comedy when trying to avoid being spotted by a former lover in a restaurant.
Although not officially a musical, the songs in MUSIC AND LYRICS are a big part of the film's appeal. Fountains of Wayne's Adam Schlesinger wrote several excellent 80s pop imitations for Grant's character, many of which are performed in their entirety. The songs are credible radio fluff that withstand the scrutiny of being front and center and stick in the ear long after being heard.
Per the film's title, dialogue also plays a crucial component. It's always a pleasure to hear two intelligent characters zinging witticisms back and forth. Credit Lawrence for having the confidence not to oversell the verbal humor. Grant and Barrymore put the jokes out there without drawing attention to them. Grant in particular delivers several offhanded gems that might slip by unnoticed, although my favorite is Sophie's observation that Cora's Indian-flavored remix of their song sounds like "an orgasm set to the GANDHI soundtrack".
Like a catchy pop song you can't stop humming, the sublime romantic melody of MUSIC AND LYRICS puts a smile on your face and love in your heart. Whether it's four minutes of verse chorus verse or ninety minutes of boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back, what more could you ask for?
Grade: A
In MUSIC AND LYRICS 80s pop star Alex Fletcher (Hugh Grant) gets a chance at a comeback when he's asked to pen a song for teen sensation Cora Corman (Haley Bennett). She wants to debut the new tune with him at a Madison Square Garden concert. It sounds like just the break Alex needs to abandon high school reunion and amusement park performances that have kept him afloat all these years. The catch is that Cora has solicited songs from several other composers, and the song must be finished in 48 hours.
Former co-lead singer of the disbanded group PoP!, Alex was always more at home writing the music. His agent Chris (Brad Garrett) connects him with a lyricist (Jason Antoon), but the collaborators can't get on the same page. Enter Sophie Fisher (Drew Barrymore), the clumsy substitute plant caretaker in Alex's apartment who effortlessly rattles off some lines that Alex thinks are perfect for a pop song. Desperate for the right lyrics, Alex compels Sophie to assist him. As they stay up all night sweating over every note and word, an attraction begins to form.
One of my primary complaints about the majority of today's movies is the lack of emotional truth. Be it a comic book movie or romantic comedy, moviegoers are often looking for heightened versions of reality but reality nonetheless. The actions are bolder and emotions more intense, but in the end we're seeking recognizable human behavior and feelings displayed on a larger canvas. Yet so many films fail to make their characters relatable.
Oddly enough, romantic comedies, potentially the easiest genre for depicting familiar people and scenarios, regularly get mucked up with plot contrivances that make them alien to viewer experiences. Perhaps that's why MUSIC AND LYRICS is so refreshing. Marc Lawrence's romantic comedy succeeds because it develops lovable, realistic characters. The film finds the budding couple sharing the majority of the scenes. How novel to make a romance in which the leads spend time together rather than being forced apart for arbitrary reasons. Better yet is the fact that they actually talk about the problems that creep into their relationship rather than let some absurd misunderstanding ruin what they might have.
It helps that Grant and Barrymore are charming performers with wonderful screen chemistry. Separately they've appeared in two of the best romantic comedies in recent years--adaptations of Nick Hornby's ABOUT A BOY and FEVER PITCH. There's a strong hint of Hornby's pop sensibility and romanticism here too. Together the actors shine, with Grant's foppishness counterbalanced nicely by Barrymore's easygoing goofiness. (This is a role Brittany Murphy would kill for.) She has an inspired bit of physical comedy when trying to avoid being spotted by a former lover in a restaurant.
Although not officially a musical, the songs in MUSIC AND LYRICS are a big part of the film's appeal. Fountains of Wayne's Adam Schlesinger wrote several excellent 80s pop imitations for Grant's character, many of which are performed in their entirety. The songs are credible radio fluff that withstand the scrutiny of being front and center and stick in the ear long after being heard.
Per the film's title, dialogue also plays a crucial component. It's always a pleasure to hear two intelligent characters zinging witticisms back and forth. Credit Lawrence for having the confidence not to oversell the verbal humor. Grant and Barrymore put the jokes out there without drawing attention to them. Grant in particular delivers several offhanded gems that might slip by unnoticed, although my favorite is Sophie's observation that Cora's Indian-flavored remix of their song sounds like "an orgasm set to the GANDHI soundtrack".
Like a catchy pop song you can't stop humming, the sublime romantic melody of MUSIC AND LYRICS puts a smile on your face and love in your heart. Whether it's four minutes of verse chorus verse or ninety minutes of boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back, what more could you ask for?
Grade: A
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Predicting the 2007 Oscars
To me awards season felt like it ended when the Central Ohio Film Critics Association announced our winners. Tonight officially caps it. For the sake of proving whatever talent I might have for picking the winners, here are my predictions for tonight's Academy Awards:
Best Picture: LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Best Director: Martin Scorsese, THE DEPARTED
Best Actor: Forest Whitaker, THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND
Best Actress: Helen Mirren, THE QUEEN
Best Supporting Actor: Alan Arkin, LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Best Supporting Actress: Jennifer Hudson, DREAMGIRLS
Best Adapted Screenplay: THE DEPARTED
Best Animated Feature: CARS
Best Animated Short Film: THE LITTLE MATCHGIRL
Best Art Direction: DREAMGIRLS
Best Cinematography: CHILDREN OF MEN
Best Costume Design: MARIE ANTOINETTE
Best Documentary Feature: AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH
Best Documentary Short: TWO HANDS
Best Film Editing: UNITED 93
Best Foreign Language Film: PAN'S LABYRINTH
Best Live Action Short Film: HELMER & SON
Best Makeup: PAN'S LABYRINTH
Best Original Score: BABEL
Best Original Screenplay: LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Best Original Song: "Listen", DREAMGIRLS
Best Sound Editing: PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
Best Sound Mixing: DREAMGIRLS
Best Visual Effects: PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
Best Picture: LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Best Director: Martin Scorsese, THE DEPARTED
Best Actor: Forest Whitaker, THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND
Best Actress: Helen Mirren, THE QUEEN
Best Supporting Actor: Alan Arkin, LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Best Supporting Actress: Jennifer Hudson, DREAMGIRLS
Best Adapted Screenplay: THE DEPARTED
Best Animated Feature: CARS
Best Animated Short Film: THE LITTLE MATCHGIRL
Best Art Direction: DREAMGIRLS
Best Cinematography: CHILDREN OF MEN
Best Costume Design: MARIE ANTOINETTE
Best Documentary Feature: AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH
Best Documentary Short: TWO HANDS
Best Film Editing: UNITED 93
Best Foreign Language Film: PAN'S LABYRINTH
Best Live Action Short Film: HELMER & SON
Best Makeup: PAN'S LABYRINTH
Best Original Score: BABEL
Best Original Screenplay: LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Best Original Song: "Listen", DREAMGIRLS
Best Sound Editing: PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
Best Sound Mixing: DREAMGIRLS
Best Visual Effects: PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
Bridge to Terabithia
BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA (Gabor Csupo, 2007)
Katherine Paterson's Newbery Medal-winning book BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA lingers in my mind for being the first tragedy I remember reading as a child. While the story details have faded in memory, the tearjerking ending made enough of an impression that the book stuck with me.
BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA tells of the unlikely friendship between Jesse Aarons (Josh Hutcherson) and Leslie Burke (AnnaSophia Robb). Jesse dislikes the new girl in his class almost immediately. Her funky clothes and active imagination attract scrutiny from his classmates, but Jesse has a problem with her because she beat him at a race. You know that boys can't let girls be better than them.
Jesse's family struggles to get by, meaning that when his taped-up running shoes can no longer stay together, he gets a hand-me-down pair of his sister's pink sneakers as replacements. It's how his family survives, but such fashion disasters make him a bully magnet.
Jesse warms up to Leslie when he notices her fearlessness in facing the bullies. Something of an outcast herself, Leslie makes a concerted effort to become friends with the boy next door. She admires Jesse's drawings, and the two discover that they share creative spirits. They develop a magical world of their own dubbed Terabithia in a section of the forest reachable only by using a rope to swing over the creek. There Jesse and Leslie are free to indulge their fantasies in a place where they are the invulnerable rulers who fight off monsters.
Unlike many films aimed at children, BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA has a grungy feel to match its heavier themes. The screenplay, adapted by Jeff Stockwell and the novelist's son David Paterson, addresses financial hardship and the cruelty of kids in a manner that's startling for anything coming out of Hollywood, let alone a movie for younger viewers.
While it's admirable that BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA isn't sugar-coated, more often than not it plays as miserabilism for kids. Jesse gets remote race cars and a track for his birthday. When the toy doesn't work to perfection, his father (Robert Patrick) explodes with anger because he couldn't afford something better. It's an honest moment, but this and plenty more like it become oppressive, especially since the friendship scenes don't balance the weightier subject matter.
First time feature director Gabor Csupo lacks assurance in managing the intermingling of hardscrabble daily life and fantasy elements. The Terabithia scenes have been NARNIA-ized, a choice out of step with the story's more grounded nature. This material is ripe for David Gordon Green's poetic touch. From his delicate Terrence Malick-influenced GEORGE WASHINGTON to UNDERTOW, a clear riff on THE NIGHT OF THE HUNTER, Green has demonstrated his capacity for rendering wonder and fear through the eyes of children.
Thematically BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA bites off more than it can chew. The movie has already been undone by too many big, underexplored matters when a discussion about God and religion is shoehorned into it. The pivotal third act event, the one part I remember from the book, doesn't flow naturally from the plot and feels like a cheat. (I don't recall whether this is a weakness in Paterson's novel also.)
BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA realistically presents childhood worries and smart main characters. That and its determination not to speak down to pre-adolescents are nice changes from kids' movies that treasure stupidity. BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA can be too serious for its own good, though. In failing to decide between being a coming-of-age tale or a fantasy film, it hits some sour notes that confirm the perception that those with the brains are drags.
Grade: C
Katherine Paterson's Newbery Medal-winning book BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA lingers in my mind for being the first tragedy I remember reading as a child. While the story details have faded in memory, the tearjerking ending made enough of an impression that the book stuck with me.
BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA tells of the unlikely friendship between Jesse Aarons (Josh Hutcherson) and Leslie Burke (AnnaSophia Robb). Jesse dislikes the new girl in his class almost immediately. Her funky clothes and active imagination attract scrutiny from his classmates, but Jesse has a problem with her because she beat him at a race. You know that boys can't let girls be better than them.
Jesse's family struggles to get by, meaning that when his taped-up running shoes can no longer stay together, he gets a hand-me-down pair of his sister's pink sneakers as replacements. It's how his family survives, but such fashion disasters make him a bully magnet.
Jesse warms up to Leslie when he notices her fearlessness in facing the bullies. Something of an outcast herself, Leslie makes a concerted effort to become friends with the boy next door. She admires Jesse's drawings, and the two discover that they share creative spirits. They develop a magical world of their own dubbed Terabithia in a section of the forest reachable only by using a rope to swing over the creek. There Jesse and Leslie are free to indulge their fantasies in a place where they are the invulnerable rulers who fight off monsters.
Unlike many films aimed at children, BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA has a grungy feel to match its heavier themes. The screenplay, adapted by Jeff Stockwell and the novelist's son David Paterson, addresses financial hardship and the cruelty of kids in a manner that's startling for anything coming out of Hollywood, let alone a movie for younger viewers.
While it's admirable that BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA isn't sugar-coated, more often than not it plays as miserabilism for kids. Jesse gets remote race cars and a track for his birthday. When the toy doesn't work to perfection, his father (Robert Patrick) explodes with anger because he couldn't afford something better. It's an honest moment, but this and plenty more like it become oppressive, especially since the friendship scenes don't balance the weightier subject matter.
First time feature director Gabor Csupo lacks assurance in managing the intermingling of hardscrabble daily life and fantasy elements. The Terabithia scenes have been NARNIA-ized, a choice out of step with the story's more grounded nature. This material is ripe for David Gordon Green's poetic touch. From his delicate Terrence Malick-influenced GEORGE WASHINGTON to UNDERTOW, a clear riff on THE NIGHT OF THE HUNTER, Green has demonstrated his capacity for rendering wonder and fear through the eyes of children.
Thematically BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA bites off more than it can chew. The movie has already been undone by too many big, underexplored matters when a discussion about God and religion is shoehorned into it. The pivotal third act event, the one part I remember from the book, doesn't flow naturally from the plot and feels like a cheat. (I don't recall whether this is a weakness in Paterson's novel also.)
BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA realistically presents childhood worries and smart main characters. That and its determination not to speak down to pre-adolescents are nice changes from kids' movies that treasure stupidity. BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA can be too serious for its own good, though. In failing to decide between being a coming-of-age tale or a fantasy film, it hits some sour notes that confirm the perception that those with the brains are drags.
Grade: C
The Astronaut Farmer
THE ASTRONAUT FARMER (Michael Polish, 2007)
Going to outer space is a dream for many, but Charles Farmer (Billy Bob Thornton) is one of the few determined to achieve that goal. Family issues forced him to leave an astronaut training program when he was younger. Nevertheless, Farmer, a name befitting the Texas rancher, refuses to abandon his desire to orbit the planet. In THE ASTRONAUT FARMER he designs a rocket and capsule, obtains scrap parts from the junkyard, and tinkers on the project year after year in his barn. He even has a space suit that was otherwise going to be discarded.
Farmer's folly is a source of amusement for the townsfolk, none of whom really think he can launch himself into space but encourage him anyway. Government officials aren't so tickled when they learn of his plans. His attempt to purchase thousands of gallons of rocket fuel alerts them to this dangerous undertaking. Naturally, they refuse Farmer's request to shoot himself into the atmosphere, not that this space cowboy needs the government's seal of approval.
The situation becomes more urgent when the bank seeks to collect on the loans that have kept Farmer's dream possible. Seeing that the window to fulfill his lifelong ambition is closing, he steps up his work with the help of his family. Wife Audrey (Virginia Madsen) has been supportive throughout their relationship. Sure, Farmer has had his head in the clouds and beyond. It's a quality she likes in him, but Audrey questions his priorities when it comes out that they may lose their home.
With THE ASTRONAUT FARMER writer-director Michael Polish and his co-writer brother Mark continue a foray into American mythmaking that began with NORTHFORK. THE ASTRONAUT FARMER'S alternative history of rugged American individualism and ingenuity opens on a shot of Farmer dressed in his astronaut gear and riding a horse, the spitting image of the nation's pioneering past and future.
At a time when corporations and politicians seem to have the power over the little guy, an inversion of the country's founding principles, the Polish brothers fire back with a regular hero whose pursuit of happiness is an affront to the ruling monoliths. Farmer denies to recognize the government's self-proclaimed authority over the heavens and exploits corporate sponsorship and media coverage to his advantage to propel his mission.
Thornton's the go-to guy for this brand of offbeat average joe. He charms and inspires with down-home humility and confidence. Thornton's performance says that this whole idea is crazy but asks wouldn't it be great if a good ol' boy could conduct a space launch with his son just like they might make a soap box derby racer?
This modern fairy tale may stretch the limits of believability, although more from a crucial decision Audrey makes than the aerospace stuff, but it's the kind of story we'd like to think could be true. Shoot for the stars and maybe, just maybe, you can reach them.
Grade: B-
Going to outer space is a dream for many, but Charles Farmer (Billy Bob Thornton) is one of the few determined to achieve that goal. Family issues forced him to leave an astronaut training program when he was younger. Nevertheless, Farmer, a name befitting the Texas rancher, refuses to abandon his desire to orbit the planet. In THE ASTRONAUT FARMER he designs a rocket and capsule, obtains scrap parts from the junkyard, and tinkers on the project year after year in his barn. He even has a space suit that was otherwise going to be discarded.
Farmer's folly is a source of amusement for the townsfolk, none of whom really think he can launch himself into space but encourage him anyway. Government officials aren't so tickled when they learn of his plans. His attempt to purchase thousands of gallons of rocket fuel alerts them to this dangerous undertaking. Naturally, they refuse Farmer's request to shoot himself into the atmosphere, not that this space cowboy needs the government's seal of approval.
The situation becomes more urgent when the bank seeks to collect on the loans that have kept Farmer's dream possible. Seeing that the window to fulfill his lifelong ambition is closing, he steps up his work with the help of his family. Wife Audrey (Virginia Madsen) has been supportive throughout their relationship. Sure, Farmer has had his head in the clouds and beyond. It's a quality she likes in him, but Audrey questions his priorities when it comes out that they may lose their home.
With THE ASTRONAUT FARMER writer-director Michael Polish and his co-writer brother Mark continue a foray into American mythmaking that began with NORTHFORK. THE ASTRONAUT FARMER'S alternative history of rugged American individualism and ingenuity opens on a shot of Farmer dressed in his astronaut gear and riding a horse, the spitting image of the nation's pioneering past and future.
At a time when corporations and politicians seem to have the power over the little guy, an inversion of the country's founding principles, the Polish brothers fire back with a regular hero whose pursuit of happiness is an affront to the ruling monoliths. Farmer denies to recognize the government's self-proclaimed authority over the heavens and exploits corporate sponsorship and media coverage to his advantage to propel his mission.
Thornton's the go-to guy for this brand of offbeat average joe. He charms and inspires with down-home humility and confidence. Thornton's performance says that this whole idea is crazy but asks wouldn't it be great if a good ol' boy could conduct a space launch with his son just like they might make a soap box derby racer?
This modern fairy tale may stretch the limits of believability, although more from a crucial decision Audrey makes than the aerospace stuff, but it's the kind of story we'd like to think could be true. Shoot for the stars and maybe, just maybe, you can reach them.
Grade: B-
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Reno 911!: Miami
RENO 911!: MIAMI (Ben Garant, 2007)
Comedy Central COPS parody RENO 911! gets the movie treatment with RENO 911!: MIAMI. A police convention sends the bumbling officers of the Reno sheriff's department to the sunshine state. Lt. Jim Dangle's (Thomas Lennon) band of law enforcement outsiders are turned away at the conference registration table, but they are pressed into emergency service when a bioterrorist substance is released in the convention center. The Miami Beach police and all visiting officers must be sealed in the building until the threat can be identified and eradicated. That leaves Reno's finest to keep order.
In addition to responding to regular calls, the Reno cops deal with Ethan (Paul Rudd), a drug lord who patterns himself on Tony Montana. After a night of drunken revelry deputy Clementine Johnson (Wendy McLendon-Covey) searches for the man tattooed on her left breast. Deputy Trudy Wiegel (Kerri Kenney) hopes to romance Lt. Dangle despite signs that he prefers men in uniform.
RENO 911!: MIAMI isn't up to the task of replanting its sketch comedy roots in feature film territory. A rudimentary arc provides structure, but it's merely a means of propping up the feeble jokes for 84 minutes. It's not that plot is essential to this film. Why bother, though, when there's no commitment to the weak story set-up?
Nor does RENO 911!: MIAMI make an effective transition from TV to film. The primary difference is the insertion of language and nudity not permitted on basic cable. Director Ben Garant widens the scale somewhat. In a scene outside a cheap hotel, two tracking shots are stitched together in an attempt to pull off a big visual joke. The sequence goes on too long, and the technical qualities are too shaky to make it anything more than an ambitious failure.
Financial considerations shouldn't have any bearing on evaluating what shows up on screen, but it's apparent that the filmmakers had a limited budget and suffer for it. RENO 911!: MIAMI uses a helicopter as though it was being rented by the hour. The uncreative shooting of the yacht scenes from faraway gives the impression that the troupe was stealing shots on an unattended boat.
Of course, the sketch comedy nature, medium, and production costs wouldn't matter if RENO 911!: MIAMI were funnier. The main performers are known for quirkier work on THE STATE and VIVA VARIETY, but you wouldn't know it by the tepid, predictable humor throughout this film. RENO 911!: MIAMI'S punchlines are too easy to anticipate and finish scenes with a whimper rather than a bang. A semi-funny cameo with an action star plays out like poor improv. That quality bedevils the whole film.
RENO 911!: MIAMI is too safe and unremarkable to be a crime against comedy a la NORBIT, but anyone in search of a laugh feels robbed all the same.
Grade: D+
Comedy Central COPS parody RENO 911! gets the movie treatment with RENO 911!: MIAMI. A police convention sends the bumbling officers of the Reno sheriff's department to the sunshine state. Lt. Jim Dangle's (Thomas Lennon) band of law enforcement outsiders are turned away at the conference registration table, but they are pressed into emergency service when a bioterrorist substance is released in the convention center. The Miami Beach police and all visiting officers must be sealed in the building until the threat can be identified and eradicated. That leaves Reno's finest to keep order.
In addition to responding to regular calls, the Reno cops deal with Ethan (Paul Rudd), a drug lord who patterns himself on Tony Montana. After a night of drunken revelry deputy Clementine Johnson (Wendy McLendon-Covey) searches for the man tattooed on her left breast. Deputy Trudy Wiegel (Kerri Kenney) hopes to romance Lt. Dangle despite signs that he prefers men in uniform.
RENO 911!: MIAMI isn't up to the task of replanting its sketch comedy roots in feature film territory. A rudimentary arc provides structure, but it's merely a means of propping up the feeble jokes for 84 minutes. It's not that plot is essential to this film. Why bother, though, when there's no commitment to the weak story set-up?
Nor does RENO 911!: MIAMI make an effective transition from TV to film. The primary difference is the insertion of language and nudity not permitted on basic cable. Director Ben Garant widens the scale somewhat. In a scene outside a cheap hotel, two tracking shots are stitched together in an attempt to pull off a big visual joke. The sequence goes on too long, and the technical qualities are too shaky to make it anything more than an ambitious failure.
Financial considerations shouldn't have any bearing on evaluating what shows up on screen, but it's apparent that the filmmakers had a limited budget and suffer for it. RENO 911!: MIAMI uses a helicopter as though it was being rented by the hour. The uncreative shooting of the yacht scenes from faraway gives the impression that the troupe was stealing shots on an unattended boat.
Of course, the sketch comedy nature, medium, and production costs wouldn't matter if RENO 911!: MIAMI were funnier. The main performers are known for quirkier work on THE STATE and VIVA VARIETY, but you wouldn't know it by the tepid, predictable humor throughout this film. RENO 911!: MIAMI'S punchlines are too easy to anticipate and finish scenes with a whimper rather than a bang. A semi-funny cameo with an action star plays out like poor improv. That quality bedevils the whole film.
RENO 911!: MIAMI is too safe and unremarkable to be a crime against comedy a la NORBIT, but anyone in search of a laugh feels robbed all the same.
Grade: D+
Friday, February 23, 2007
The Number 23
THE NUMBER 23 (Joel Schumacher, 2007)
A dog-eared paperback novel of obsession takes over the life of dogcatcher Walter Sparrow (Jim Carrey) in THE NUMBER 23. Topsy Kretts' book of the same name bears striking similarities to Walter's past. Paranoid protagonist Fingerling's story reads like something from the pages of a pulp magazine, hardly the stuff of Walter's daily routine chasing canines and coming home to his wife and son, yet he can't shake the feeling that the author is writing about him.
Like Fingerling, Walter starts seeing 23 in everything: the sum of the numbers in his home address, the numerical value of his name, the fateful day (February 3) he began reading the book. The deeper he gets into THE NUMBER 23, the more he believes that the number is something sinister affecting his state of mind. He fantasizes about killing Agatha (Virginia Madsen) just like Fingerling murders his lover. Walter becomes desperate to find Topsy Kretts and get an explanation. His search digs up more questions than answers and amplifies his obsession to a worrisome level.
There is a visible pattern that's hard to deny in THE NUMBER 23, but it's not one that benefits the film. Whether fair or not, Carrey brings expectations of comedy to almost everything he does. He has done good work in serious roles, but playing a manic character becoming unglued isn't the best fit for him. Unlike Guy Pearce in MEMENTO and Christian Bale in THE MACHINIST, Carrey has difficulty playing inner torment without making it look funny, an issue magnified by the silliness of the film's concept and director Joel Schumacher's concessions to utilizing the actor's skills to get laughs.
THE NUMBER 23 labors to convince the audience that there is mystical power in the number, but as these things go, the film makes a less persuasive case than those insisting that Pink Floyd's THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON really was meant to be synchronized with THE WIZARD OF OZ. Finding patterns among random things is easy to do if you use a loose definition for spotting the reoccurring phenomenon. THE NUMBER 23 doesn't provide enough spooky evidence to give us pause or reason to buy into the idea that an otherwise normal person would take this hokum to be true at face value.
This fever dream of a film is too slight in mounting its case for 23's evil properties. At least THE DA VINCI CODE developed an elaborate, history-based conspiracy to influence people that there was something to it. THE NUMBER 23 barely has enough material to squeeze out a feature film. It reaches that running time with a drawn out explanation lacking "gotcha" quality. The big reveal elicits a knowing yawn rather than an exclamation of surprise. That's the only curse to be found in the film.
Grade: C-
A dog-eared paperback novel of obsession takes over the life of dogcatcher Walter Sparrow (Jim Carrey) in THE NUMBER 23. Topsy Kretts' book of the same name bears striking similarities to Walter's past. Paranoid protagonist Fingerling's story reads like something from the pages of a pulp magazine, hardly the stuff of Walter's daily routine chasing canines and coming home to his wife and son, yet he can't shake the feeling that the author is writing about him.
Like Fingerling, Walter starts seeing 23 in everything: the sum of the numbers in his home address, the numerical value of his name, the fateful day (February 3) he began reading the book. The deeper he gets into THE NUMBER 23, the more he believes that the number is something sinister affecting his state of mind. He fantasizes about killing Agatha (Virginia Madsen) just like Fingerling murders his lover. Walter becomes desperate to find Topsy Kretts and get an explanation. His search digs up more questions than answers and amplifies his obsession to a worrisome level.
There is a visible pattern that's hard to deny in THE NUMBER 23, but it's not one that benefits the film. Whether fair or not, Carrey brings expectations of comedy to almost everything he does. He has done good work in serious roles, but playing a manic character becoming unglued isn't the best fit for him. Unlike Guy Pearce in MEMENTO and Christian Bale in THE MACHINIST, Carrey has difficulty playing inner torment without making it look funny, an issue magnified by the silliness of the film's concept and director Joel Schumacher's concessions to utilizing the actor's skills to get laughs.
THE NUMBER 23 labors to convince the audience that there is mystical power in the number, but as these things go, the film makes a less persuasive case than those insisting that Pink Floyd's THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON really was meant to be synchronized with THE WIZARD OF OZ. Finding patterns among random things is easy to do if you use a loose definition for spotting the reoccurring phenomenon. THE NUMBER 23 doesn't provide enough spooky evidence to give us pause or reason to buy into the idea that an otherwise normal person would take this hokum to be true at face value.
This fever dream of a film is too slight in mounting its case for 23's evil properties. At least THE DA VINCI CODE developed an elaborate, history-based conspiracy to influence people that there was something to it. THE NUMBER 23 barely has enough material to squeeze out a feature film. It reaches that running time with a drawn out explanation lacking "gotcha" quality. The big reveal elicits a knowing yawn rather than an exclamation of surprise. That's the only curse to be found in the film.
Grade: C-
Friday, February 16, 2007
Ghost Rider
GHOST RIDER (Mark Steven Johnson, 2007)
If there's one lesson to be learned from GHOST RIDER, it's that a lawyer should first examine any contract presented to you. If there's a second lesson to be learned, it's that laughing through a bad film can ease the sting of wasted time and money.
Following in his father's footsteps, daredevil Johnny Blaze (Nicolas Cage) makes a living jumping motorcycles over impossible lengths. One stunt calls for him to leap six helicopters lined up the distance of a football field. No doubt about it, Johnny's the best there is and one of the luckiest too. When a jump ends with him falling on his head, he gets up without a scratch, even though his crew removes his helmet and slaps his face rather than stabilizing his neck after the nasty tumble.
Johnny's good fortune isn't what it appears to be, though. As a teen he made a deal with Mephistopheles (Peter Fonda) that cost him his soul in return for curing his father's cancer. (He gets a cruel reminder that the devil is in the details.) Under the dark lord's watch, Johnny can't get hurt before fulfilling his end of the bargain. His destiny is to be the devil's bounty hunter known as Ghost Rider. In the presence of evil, Johnny changes from flesh and blood to a flaming skeleton.
As luck would have it, Mephistopheles comes to collect the same night Johnny is to be reunited with childhood sweetheart Roxanne Simpson (Eva Mendes). The devil's son Blackheart (Wes Bentley) is in search of a long lost contract that could give him the power to unseat his father. Ghost Rider is commanded to stop Blackheart. At least it's a reasonable excuse for standing up Roxanne, not that she's likely to buy Johnny's story.
Based on the Marvel character, GHOST RIDER is a comic fan's celluloid nightmare. Jokey to a fault and weighty as newsprint, it lives down to the negative attributes attached to the comic book film tag. The performances and dialogue are riotously funny in the manner of bad English dubs of Asian martial arts films. Fonda is in pure hambone mode while Bentley camps it up like a high school drama club member making a home video with friends. Mendes plays the world's most unconvincing TV news reporter. Writer-director Mark Steven Johnson never decides if she's supposed to be a local or out-of-towner, so maybe that explains her confusion in the role.
And then there's Cage. Wearing a bad hairpiece and channelling Elvis, his Johnny lives up to the actor's reputation of playing eccentrics. (Alas, he doesn't don a bear suit.) He sips yellow and red jelly beans from a martini glass, unwinds to the smooth sounds of The Carpenters, and loves watching monkey videos. The unintended hilarity of GHOST RIDER and THE WICKER MAN are quite the dubious one-two combination for Cage. He's all wrong for the part--too old and too quirky--which is what makes him absolutely perfect if one's to enjoy this for all of its badness.
As bad as the performers are, Johnson ought to shoulder the bulk of GHOST RIDER'S failings. The film asks if one youthful mistake should determine the rest of a person's life, yet the idea gets lost in the scattershot plot. Johnson draws stick figure characters in single, disconnected panels where the material demands richly sketched individuals linked through multiple frames and pages.
Sam Elliott's grizzled opening narration over a western landscape in GHOST RIDER reminds viewers of another very funny movie about an unlikely hero. The problem for GHOST RIDER is that only THE BIG LEBOWSKI was a comedy.
Grade: D+
If there's one lesson to be learned from GHOST RIDER, it's that a lawyer should first examine any contract presented to you. If there's a second lesson to be learned, it's that laughing through a bad film can ease the sting of wasted time and money.
Following in his father's footsteps, daredevil Johnny Blaze (Nicolas Cage) makes a living jumping motorcycles over impossible lengths. One stunt calls for him to leap six helicopters lined up the distance of a football field. No doubt about it, Johnny's the best there is and one of the luckiest too. When a jump ends with him falling on his head, he gets up without a scratch, even though his crew removes his helmet and slaps his face rather than stabilizing his neck after the nasty tumble.
Johnny's good fortune isn't what it appears to be, though. As a teen he made a deal with Mephistopheles (Peter Fonda) that cost him his soul in return for curing his father's cancer. (He gets a cruel reminder that the devil is in the details.) Under the dark lord's watch, Johnny can't get hurt before fulfilling his end of the bargain. His destiny is to be the devil's bounty hunter known as Ghost Rider. In the presence of evil, Johnny changes from flesh and blood to a flaming skeleton.
As luck would have it, Mephistopheles comes to collect the same night Johnny is to be reunited with childhood sweetheart Roxanne Simpson (Eva Mendes). The devil's son Blackheart (Wes Bentley) is in search of a long lost contract that could give him the power to unseat his father. Ghost Rider is commanded to stop Blackheart. At least it's a reasonable excuse for standing up Roxanne, not that she's likely to buy Johnny's story.
Based on the Marvel character, GHOST RIDER is a comic fan's celluloid nightmare. Jokey to a fault and weighty as newsprint, it lives down to the negative attributes attached to the comic book film tag. The performances and dialogue are riotously funny in the manner of bad English dubs of Asian martial arts films. Fonda is in pure hambone mode while Bentley camps it up like a high school drama club member making a home video with friends. Mendes plays the world's most unconvincing TV news reporter. Writer-director Mark Steven Johnson never decides if she's supposed to be a local or out-of-towner, so maybe that explains her confusion in the role.
And then there's Cage. Wearing a bad hairpiece and channelling Elvis, his Johnny lives up to the actor's reputation of playing eccentrics. (Alas, he doesn't don a bear suit.) He sips yellow and red jelly beans from a martini glass, unwinds to the smooth sounds of The Carpenters, and loves watching monkey videos. The unintended hilarity of GHOST RIDER and THE WICKER MAN are quite the dubious one-two combination for Cage. He's all wrong for the part--too old and too quirky--which is what makes him absolutely perfect if one's to enjoy this for all of its badness.
As bad as the performers are, Johnson ought to shoulder the bulk of GHOST RIDER'S failings. The film asks if one youthful mistake should determine the rest of a person's life, yet the idea gets lost in the scattershot plot. Johnson draws stick figure characters in single, disconnected panels where the material demands richly sketched individuals linked through multiple frames and pages.
Sam Elliott's grizzled opening narration over a western landscape in GHOST RIDER reminds viewers of another very funny movie about an unlikely hero. The problem for GHOST RIDER is that only THE BIG LEBOWSKI was a comedy.
Grade: D+
Monday, February 12, 2007
Zidane: A 21st-Century Portrait (Zidane, un portrait du 21e siècle)
ZIDANE: A 21ST-CENTURY PORTRAIT (ZIDANE, UN PORTRAIT DU 21E SIÈCLE) (Douglas Gordon and Philippe Parreno, 2006)
France's Zinédine Zidane was one of the most compelling figures in the 2006 World Cup before he stepped on the pitch for the Final versus Italy. Everything was in place to provide a Hollywood ending to the formidable midfielder's career--Zidane even had his own movie in French theaters during the tournament--but late in the game the captain lowered his head and planted it into the chest of Marco Materazzi. The curious action earned him a red card and an ejection, providing a self-imposed tragic ending for what might have been his crowning achievement.
Shot during the April 23, 2005 match between his Real Madrid team and Villarreal, ZIDANE: A 21ST-CENTURY PORTRAIT follows the soccer legend in this unusual mix of sports movie and art film. Rather than telling a story with an arc of triumph or loss, ZIDANE is concerned with the ambience of the experience. Seventeen cameras are trained on Zidane as he competes in Bernabeu Stadium. The persistent roar of the crowd accompanies the visuals, along with spare use made of Mogwai's score and subtitled Zidane quotes.
Watching a single athlete for the duration of a game is an interesting concept, but ZIDANE is better in theory than in execution. The 92-minute running time mirrors the approximate length of a match, but ZIDANE is primarily composed of the parts one wouldn't see on a television broadcast...and for good reason. Close-ups and mid-range shots of the soccer player waiting for play to reach him or being involved briefly in the flow are only so absorbing before turning into numbing repetition. Since Zidane is often divorced from the action, the viewer has no sense of what is happening or how he fits into it. His greatness, at least to this soccer novice, is hardly apparent from what Douglas Gordon and Philippe Parreno's film shows. Despite some excellent cinematography that lionizes Zidane, the lower quality wide shots taken from the TV feed are more satisfying in revealing the events on the pitch.
Zidane is typically expressionless while playing, so the endless time spent focusing on him gives no sign of what he might be thinking. The directors try to add some substance by inserting the sound of children playing in one section. Flourishes like this work within the limitations of a shorter piece. In a feature film they're merely welcome breaks from the repetitive tedium. When his stony face cracks, it's a momentous occasion, but by that point in ZIDANE, the viewer is grasping for anything. His temper has been known to flare, but as it was in the World Cup incident, there is no context for his random display of anger.
Grade: C-
France's Zinédine Zidane was one of the most compelling figures in the 2006 World Cup before he stepped on the pitch for the Final versus Italy. Everything was in place to provide a Hollywood ending to the formidable midfielder's career--Zidane even had his own movie in French theaters during the tournament--but late in the game the captain lowered his head and planted it into the chest of Marco Materazzi. The curious action earned him a red card and an ejection, providing a self-imposed tragic ending for what might have been his crowning achievement.
Shot during the April 23, 2005 match between his Real Madrid team and Villarreal, ZIDANE: A 21ST-CENTURY PORTRAIT follows the soccer legend in this unusual mix of sports movie and art film. Rather than telling a story with an arc of triumph or loss, ZIDANE is concerned with the ambience of the experience. Seventeen cameras are trained on Zidane as he competes in Bernabeu Stadium. The persistent roar of the crowd accompanies the visuals, along with spare use made of Mogwai's score and subtitled Zidane quotes.
Watching a single athlete for the duration of a game is an interesting concept, but ZIDANE is better in theory than in execution. The 92-minute running time mirrors the approximate length of a match, but ZIDANE is primarily composed of the parts one wouldn't see on a television broadcast...and for good reason. Close-ups and mid-range shots of the soccer player waiting for play to reach him or being involved briefly in the flow are only so absorbing before turning into numbing repetition. Since Zidane is often divorced from the action, the viewer has no sense of what is happening or how he fits into it. His greatness, at least to this soccer novice, is hardly apparent from what Douglas Gordon and Philippe Parreno's film shows. Despite some excellent cinematography that lionizes Zidane, the lower quality wide shots taken from the TV feed are more satisfying in revealing the events on the pitch.
Zidane is typically expressionless while playing, so the endless time spent focusing on him gives no sign of what he might be thinking. The directors try to add some substance by inserting the sound of children playing in one section. Flourishes like this work within the limitations of a shorter piece. In a feature film they're merely welcome breaks from the repetitive tedium. When his stony face cracks, it's a momentous occasion, but by that point in ZIDANE, the viewer is grasping for anything. His temper has been known to flare, but as it was in the World Cup incident, there is no context for his random display of anger.
Grade: C-
Because I Said So
BECAUSE I SAID SO (Michael Lehmann, 2007)
Like any good mother, Daphne (Diane Keaton) worries that her daughter Milly (Mandy Moore) won't find a good man to settle down with. Her two other daughters, Maggie (Lauren Graham) and Mae (Piper Perabo), are blissfuly married, but her youngest just doesn't seem to have much relationship success. Daphne fears that Milly is following her example of failed romances and takes extra measures in BECAUSE I SAID SO to find her love and happiness.
Unbeknownst to Milly, Daphne places an online dating ad and conducts an exhaustive interview process of potential suitors. Predictably, she meets the usual freakazoids and social outcasts until Jason (Tom Everett Scott), a charming architect, arrives. Daphne thinks he's perfect for Milly, but Johnny (Gabriel Macht), a bemused musician who has observed this whole ritual, doesn't think Jason is as great as he appears to be. He proposes that Daphne introduce him to her daughter, an idea that she swiftly dismisses. Johnny manages to get Milly's contact info, though, and sets out to prove dear old mom wrong.
Milly is still in the dark about the whole process when she meets Jason. He and Daphne conspire to have Milly cater one of his events. Mom even picks out a polka dot dress she knows he will like. Much to Daphne's satisfaction, Milly and Jason hit it off, but little does she know that her daughter has also met Johnny and is seeing him as well.
Milly's wounded reaction about the secret matchmaking and wooing done on her behalf in BECAUSE I SAID SO could be cleared up with one well-placed statement from several people, but this is another romantic comedy that lets the conflict spiral out of control because no one can speak directly. Communication problems are a fact of life. Active deception by those who supposedly care a lot for the duped person is something else.
The unintended effect of all this duplicity results in unsympathetic characters, a critical misstep for a film predicated on likable people finding joy. Daphne's attempts to manipulate Milly's life border on pathological behavior. BECAUSE I SAID SO prefers Johnny over Jason as Milly's romantic partner, yet both guys are less than forthcoming about how they came to know about her. Jason's blueblood heritage and the attendant temper seem to be the main things working against him, but Johnny, whose initial interest in Milly stems from showing up Daphne, isn't much better. Even Milly comes off poorly. She gets seriously involved with both guys and keeps them on a string even after a marriage proposal. Her indignation at learning the truth isn't earned since her actions aren't noble either.
Some of the nonsense could be overlooked as part of rom com conventions, but BECAUSE I SAID SO'S shrillness makes for an exhausting experience. Keaton's Daphne means well, but the actress plays the hysterical mother as though she's in need of serious medication. Either she is or the viewer is to handle her. The screen isn't wide enough for the broad comedy that falls flat more often than not. Yet again a character becomes a victim to the miraculously failing technology when stumbling upon an "adult" website. Suddenly a competent computer user must resort to flailing wildly at the keyboard and mouse while the heretofore perfectly working machine fails to comply. (See the malfunctioning TV remote in AMERICAN PIE for another example.) Of course, the audible embarrassment inspires a lusty response from the character's dog too.
With the electronic tools at everyone's disposal, today's single adults may know all too well how a parent's love and good intentions can end up being more meddlesome than helpful when it comes to finding that special someone. BECAUSE I SAID SO might have found more of that emotional truth and humor if it stayed on a relatable level than the cartoonish theatrics it displays.
Grade: C-
Like any good mother, Daphne (Diane Keaton) worries that her daughter Milly (Mandy Moore) won't find a good man to settle down with. Her two other daughters, Maggie (Lauren Graham) and Mae (Piper Perabo), are blissfuly married, but her youngest just doesn't seem to have much relationship success. Daphne fears that Milly is following her example of failed romances and takes extra measures in BECAUSE I SAID SO to find her love and happiness.
Unbeknownst to Milly, Daphne places an online dating ad and conducts an exhaustive interview process of potential suitors. Predictably, she meets the usual freakazoids and social outcasts until Jason (Tom Everett Scott), a charming architect, arrives. Daphne thinks he's perfect for Milly, but Johnny (Gabriel Macht), a bemused musician who has observed this whole ritual, doesn't think Jason is as great as he appears to be. He proposes that Daphne introduce him to her daughter, an idea that she swiftly dismisses. Johnny manages to get Milly's contact info, though, and sets out to prove dear old mom wrong.
Milly is still in the dark about the whole process when she meets Jason. He and Daphne conspire to have Milly cater one of his events. Mom even picks out a polka dot dress she knows he will like. Much to Daphne's satisfaction, Milly and Jason hit it off, but little does she know that her daughter has also met Johnny and is seeing him as well.
Milly's wounded reaction about the secret matchmaking and wooing done on her behalf in BECAUSE I SAID SO could be cleared up with one well-placed statement from several people, but this is another romantic comedy that lets the conflict spiral out of control because no one can speak directly. Communication problems are a fact of life. Active deception by those who supposedly care a lot for the duped person is something else.
The unintended effect of all this duplicity results in unsympathetic characters, a critical misstep for a film predicated on likable people finding joy. Daphne's attempts to manipulate Milly's life border on pathological behavior. BECAUSE I SAID SO prefers Johnny over Jason as Milly's romantic partner, yet both guys are less than forthcoming about how they came to know about her. Jason's blueblood heritage and the attendant temper seem to be the main things working against him, but Johnny, whose initial interest in Milly stems from showing up Daphne, isn't much better. Even Milly comes off poorly. She gets seriously involved with both guys and keeps them on a string even after a marriage proposal. Her indignation at learning the truth isn't earned since her actions aren't noble either.
Some of the nonsense could be overlooked as part of rom com conventions, but BECAUSE I SAID SO'S shrillness makes for an exhausting experience. Keaton's Daphne means well, but the actress plays the hysterical mother as though she's in need of serious medication. Either she is or the viewer is to handle her. The screen isn't wide enough for the broad comedy that falls flat more often than not. Yet again a character becomes a victim to the miraculously failing technology when stumbling upon an "adult" website. Suddenly a competent computer user must resort to flailing wildly at the keyboard and mouse while the heretofore perfectly working machine fails to comply. (See the malfunctioning TV remote in AMERICAN PIE for another example.) Of course, the audible embarrassment inspires a lusty response from the character's dog too.
With the electronic tools at everyone's disposal, today's single adults may know all too well how a parent's love and good intentions can end up being more meddlesome than helpful when it comes to finding that special someone. BECAUSE I SAID SO might have found more of that emotional truth and humor if it stayed on a relatable level than the cartoonish theatrics it displays.
Grade: C-
Friday, February 09, 2007
Norbit
NORBIT (Brian Robbins, 2007)
If NORBIT doesn't kill cinema, nothing will.
Imagine a less preachy Tyler Perry-scripted live-action cartoon with Eddie Murphy playing a Napoleon Dynamite-like lead to get a rough idea of what this stunningly bad film is like.
Raised at a Chinese restaurant/orphanage run by Mr. Wong (Murphy), dweeby orphan Norbit (Murphy, again) grows up to be a nice doormat of a man trampled by his elephantine wife Rasputia (Murphy, yet again). As children Norbit and Rasputia developed a relationship of convenience. She fended off bullies and provided the semblance of family when her three criminal brothers took him in. Norbit was the only kid who didn't quake in her intimidating presence.
As married adults Norbit waits hand and foot on his monstrous spouse and doesn't complain until he discovers Rasputia getting more than just a private lesson from her power tap dance instructor. Soon thereafter Norbit runs into Kate (Thandie Newton), his first true love at the orphanage and someone he hasn't seen since she was adopted. She has returned to Tennessee to purchase and operate the children's institution.
The sight of Kate rekindles old feelings in Norbit, but unfortunately she's engaged to Deion (Cuba Gooding Jr.), a slickster whose facial hair should be a tip-off that he's bad news. Rasputia doesn't take kindly to Kate's reappearance and works overtime to make Norbit more miserable than he already is.
In recent years Murphy has carved out a niche with family-friendly films like DADDY DAY CARE and the DR. DOLITTLE movies. On the surface NORBIT might look like silly entertainment for all ages, but parents should think twice about the appropriateness of this crude comedy for their kids (or themselves, for that matter). NORBIT'S humor is as broad as Rasputia's ample backside, and many of the jokes are concerned with lower body functions.
There's nothing inherently wrong with bawdy humor--it didn't hurt Chaucer's reputation in literary circles--but NORBIT is the kind of film that bounces stupid rays at those within reach of the light reflected off the screen. The comedy lacks energy, cleverness, and originality. Rasputia's endlessly repeated "How you doin'?"is a desperate bid to create a catch phrase already popularized on FRIENDS. (Nevermind that it's employed in a different manner here.) Whenever NORBIT is flagging--the film's entire duration--it isn't long until those three words are shouted with attitude.
In the second season of the TV series EXTRAS, Ricky Gervais' Andy Millman grits his teeth at finally achieving success, albeit from delivering a lame catch phrase and wearing a wacky wig and goofy glasses on a lowbrow sitcom. Murphy is probably being better compensated for doing the same in NORBIT than the fictional Millman is on his show within a show, but it's sad to see a capable performer slumming in a film he must know is garbage. More DREAMGIRLS roles, Eddie, less of this dreck. (Poor Thandie Newton. The talented actress deserves much better than this, even if roles like it allow her to take meatier but lower paying parts.)
Like the curse averse Napoleon Dynamite--Norbit speaks just the first letter of vulgarities--Murphy's backbone-searching naïf is supposed to be funny because he's so pathetic. Although set up to be a lovable loser, Norbit is an unappealing character. He's just less objectionable than the other misfits in his community.
Deficient in laughs, flatly lit, and unimaginatively directed by Brian Robbins, NORBIT is the movie equivalent of the main character's favorite meal: turkey butt. Eat it up, America. Better yet, please don't.
Grade: F
If NORBIT doesn't kill cinema, nothing will.
Imagine a less preachy Tyler Perry-scripted live-action cartoon with Eddie Murphy playing a Napoleon Dynamite-like lead to get a rough idea of what this stunningly bad film is like.
Raised at a Chinese restaurant/orphanage run by Mr. Wong (Murphy), dweeby orphan Norbit (Murphy, again) grows up to be a nice doormat of a man trampled by his elephantine wife Rasputia (Murphy, yet again). As children Norbit and Rasputia developed a relationship of convenience. She fended off bullies and provided the semblance of family when her three criminal brothers took him in. Norbit was the only kid who didn't quake in her intimidating presence.
As married adults Norbit waits hand and foot on his monstrous spouse and doesn't complain until he discovers Rasputia getting more than just a private lesson from her power tap dance instructor. Soon thereafter Norbit runs into Kate (Thandie Newton), his first true love at the orphanage and someone he hasn't seen since she was adopted. She has returned to Tennessee to purchase and operate the children's institution.
The sight of Kate rekindles old feelings in Norbit, but unfortunately she's engaged to Deion (Cuba Gooding Jr.), a slickster whose facial hair should be a tip-off that he's bad news. Rasputia doesn't take kindly to Kate's reappearance and works overtime to make Norbit more miserable than he already is.
In recent years Murphy has carved out a niche with family-friendly films like DADDY DAY CARE and the DR. DOLITTLE movies. On the surface NORBIT might look like silly entertainment for all ages, but parents should think twice about the appropriateness of this crude comedy for their kids (or themselves, for that matter). NORBIT'S humor is as broad as Rasputia's ample backside, and many of the jokes are concerned with lower body functions.
There's nothing inherently wrong with bawdy humor--it didn't hurt Chaucer's reputation in literary circles--but NORBIT is the kind of film that bounces stupid rays at those within reach of the light reflected off the screen. The comedy lacks energy, cleverness, and originality. Rasputia's endlessly repeated "How you doin'?"is a desperate bid to create a catch phrase already popularized on FRIENDS. (Nevermind that it's employed in a different manner here.) Whenever NORBIT is flagging--the film's entire duration--it isn't long until those three words are shouted with attitude.
In the second season of the TV series EXTRAS, Ricky Gervais' Andy Millman grits his teeth at finally achieving success, albeit from delivering a lame catch phrase and wearing a wacky wig and goofy glasses on a lowbrow sitcom. Murphy is probably being better compensated for doing the same in NORBIT than the fictional Millman is on his show within a show, but it's sad to see a capable performer slumming in a film he must know is garbage. More DREAMGIRLS roles, Eddie, less of this dreck. (Poor Thandie Newton. The talented actress deserves much better than this, even if roles like it allow her to take meatier but lower paying parts.)
Like the curse averse Napoleon Dynamite--Norbit speaks just the first letter of vulgarities--Murphy's backbone-searching naïf is supposed to be funny because he's so pathetic. Although set up to be a lovable loser, Norbit is an unappealing character. He's just less objectionable than the other misfits in his community.
Deficient in laughs, flatly lit, and unimaginatively directed by Brian Robbins, NORBIT is the movie equivalent of the main character's favorite meal: turkey butt. Eat it up, America. Better yet, please don't.
Grade: F
Monday, February 05, 2007
The Messengers
THE MESSENGERS (Danny Pang and Oxide Pang, 2007)
Only in the movies is moving to a creepy, isolated farmhouse considered a good idea for helping a family recover from a major trauma. In the end it usually works out but not before a maniac or homicidal spirits have tested their resolve. Hasn't anyone heard of group therapy?
In THE MESSENGERS the emotionally bruised family leaves Chicago to start anew on a North Dakota sunflower farm. The dark cloud of an unmentioned incident hangs over them and is responsible for the visible tension between Jess (Kristen Stewart) and her mother Denise (Penelope Ann Miller). Jess' father Roy (Dylan McDermott) hasn't erased the past from his memory, but he's willing to give his daughter a second chance.
Bad omens manifest almost as soon as they arrive at their new home. Crows hover around the house, with a few finding their way inside. Colby Price (William B. Davis) swoops in to offer Roy a contract guaranteeing him fifteen percent profit on the property, a deal he swiftly declines. Strange mold stains keep appearing on the walls. Jess' little brother Ben (Evan and Theodore Turner) sees ghosts but can't tell anyone because the youngster doesn't talk.
Things start looking up as the sunflower crop flourishes, thanks in part to Burwell (John Corbett). Roy can't pay the out-of-work farmhand until the harvest, but he puts him up in the workers' quarters and provides meals. The offer is good enough for Burwell, who soon becomes like a fifth member of the family.
The good times are shaken when Jess notices weird phenomena around the house, but no one will believe her because of her recent history.
Today's horror films seem to exist on the extreme ends of the spectrum. There are those like HOSTEL that leave nothing to the imagination in graphically depicting bodies being shredded and splattered. At the other pole are the minimalist films, like THE GRUDGE 2 and THE RETURN. They try to create scares through silence and patience in revealing the secrets of the mysteries. The problem with many of these minimalist horror movies is that they strip away plot and character development too. While tone is important, a gripping story and interesting characters are necessary as well. Sometimes watching nothing happen builds tension, and sometimes it's like watching nothing happen. If I wanted to look down a hallway for a long time, I could stay at home and save the cost of a ticket.
THE MESSENGERS comes from the Pang brothers, who made the eerily effective THE EYE, but any hope that their background in Asian horror might improve this weak Hollywood knockoff is quickly squashed. The film's problems boil down to story. THE MESSENGERS has none, or nothing beyond the sketch of an idea: family with troubled past moves into spooky new home.
This is boilerplate filmmaking at its lousiest. It assumes the viewers know the rules from similar films, yet anyone who has seen comparable movies will be bored to tears by knowing everything that will come. It's not until three-quarters of the way through that the family's secret comes out. The revelation is hardly worth the wait. It just as well could have been mentioned in the first scene. And why bother casting the Cigarette Smoking Man from THE X-FILES when his role has no relevance?
During the film I saw the glare of cell phone lights from almost every member of the audience. It's indicative of how much moviegoing etiquette has declined, but such behavior is also a signal of how uninterested everyone was. Eighty minutes of a tracking shot through the sunflower fields would have been more dramatic than what THE MESSENGERS delivers. There you go Hollywood, the idea for the next #1 movie in America. It won't call for a cast, and it won't interrupt the viewers' other activities during the film. Just make sure to spell my name right in the credits.
Grade: D
Only in the movies is moving to a creepy, isolated farmhouse considered a good idea for helping a family recover from a major trauma. In the end it usually works out but not before a maniac or homicidal spirits have tested their resolve. Hasn't anyone heard of group therapy?
In THE MESSENGERS the emotionally bruised family leaves Chicago to start anew on a North Dakota sunflower farm. The dark cloud of an unmentioned incident hangs over them and is responsible for the visible tension between Jess (Kristen Stewart) and her mother Denise (Penelope Ann Miller). Jess' father Roy (Dylan McDermott) hasn't erased the past from his memory, but he's willing to give his daughter a second chance.
Bad omens manifest almost as soon as they arrive at their new home. Crows hover around the house, with a few finding their way inside. Colby Price (William B. Davis) swoops in to offer Roy a contract guaranteeing him fifteen percent profit on the property, a deal he swiftly declines. Strange mold stains keep appearing on the walls. Jess' little brother Ben (Evan and Theodore Turner) sees ghosts but can't tell anyone because the youngster doesn't talk.
Things start looking up as the sunflower crop flourishes, thanks in part to Burwell (John Corbett). Roy can't pay the out-of-work farmhand until the harvest, but he puts him up in the workers' quarters and provides meals. The offer is good enough for Burwell, who soon becomes like a fifth member of the family.
The good times are shaken when Jess notices weird phenomena around the house, but no one will believe her because of her recent history.
Today's horror films seem to exist on the extreme ends of the spectrum. There are those like HOSTEL that leave nothing to the imagination in graphically depicting bodies being shredded and splattered. At the other pole are the minimalist films, like THE GRUDGE 2 and THE RETURN. They try to create scares through silence and patience in revealing the secrets of the mysteries. The problem with many of these minimalist horror movies is that they strip away plot and character development too. While tone is important, a gripping story and interesting characters are necessary as well. Sometimes watching nothing happen builds tension, and sometimes it's like watching nothing happen. If I wanted to look down a hallway for a long time, I could stay at home and save the cost of a ticket.
THE MESSENGERS comes from the Pang brothers, who made the eerily effective THE EYE, but any hope that their background in Asian horror might improve this weak Hollywood knockoff is quickly squashed. The film's problems boil down to story. THE MESSENGERS has none, or nothing beyond the sketch of an idea: family with troubled past moves into spooky new home.
This is boilerplate filmmaking at its lousiest. It assumes the viewers know the rules from similar films, yet anyone who has seen comparable movies will be bored to tears by knowing everything that will come. It's not until three-quarters of the way through that the family's secret comes out. The revelation is hardly worth the wait. It just as well could have been mentioned in the first scene. And why bother casting the Cigarette Smoking Man from THE X-FILES when his role has no relevance?
During the film I saw the glare of cell phone lights from almost every member of the audience. It's indicative of how much moviegoing etiquette has declined, but such behavior is also a signal of how uninterested everyone was. Eighty minutes of a tracking shot through the sunflower fields would have been more dramatic than what THE MESSENGERS delivers. There you go Hollywood, the idea for the next #1 movie in America. It won't call for a cast, and it won't interrupt the viewers' other activities during the film. Just make sure to spell my name right in the credits.
Grade: D
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Nights and Weekends writing
My latest Instant Gratification piece for NightsAndWeekends.com is now posted. Hollywood to Blame for Punctuation Crisis is my second humor piece for the site. There's also a shorter, slightly reworked version of my review of THE HITCHER remake if my Reel Times review is too long for you. Enjoy.
Monday, January 29, 2007
The Best Films of 2006
1 . THE PRESTIGE (Christopher Nolan, 2006)
On the surface Christopher Nolan's tale of dueling magicians appears to be a clever, highly entertaining film and nothing else. Ah, but as we're instructed at the beginning, watch closely. Like any good magician, Nolan makes his cinematic sleight-of-hand in THE PRESTIGE look effortless, but it takes a lot of skill to create a film that is not only a joy to watch but also a deep exploration of the costs of dedicating oneself to a craft. Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman give terrific performances, the greatness of which are more apparent on a second viewing of this layered film. Supporting performances by Michael Caine and David Bowie as Nikola Tesla are little treasures to be found while sorting out this puzzle film.
2. THE DEPARTED (Martin Scorsese, 2006)
THE DEPARTED is no departure for Martin Scorsese, whose signature work finds him in the back alleyways with criminals and a taste for violence. This crackling crime film with hard-boiled wit is one of the director's funniest movies in recent memory. Screenwriter William Monahan demonstrates an aptitude for hard-bitten, vulgar, macho language similar to that of David Mamet. Monahan also keeps the pretzel twist of a plot clear, which is a big accomplishment for a film both confusing and straightforward.
3. UNITED 93 (Paul Greengrass, 2006)
Director Paul Greengrass' masterful look at the events of 9/11 is difficult to watch, but this overview of what happened makes for some of the most gripping viewing you'll come across even though the end is known before the film starts. A gut-wrenching recreation of the day's confusion, UNITED 93 gains power from its fly on the wall perspective in the air traffic control rooms and doomed plane.
4. BORAT: CULTURAL LEARNINGS OF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN (Larry Charles, 2006)
BORAT is the rare comedy that operates without a safety net. Star Sacha Baron Cohen and director Larry Charles’ film provides constant laughter and surprises while daring the viewer to be rightfully offended. Cohen’s total commitment to the character and control is astonishing. While Cohen’s portrayal of the fictional TV reporter may not typify what gets classified as outstanding acting, this is a great performance. In our daily lives we’d find Borat detestable, but on screen, even when being actively mean to undeserving folks, he’s completely likable.
5. THE NOTORIOUS BETTIE PAGE (Mary Harron, 2005)
THE NOTORIOUS BETTIE PAGE may be the sweetest movie ever made about pornography. Featuring Gretchen Mol's outstanding performance as the pin-up queen, the film sparkles with a frothy pop sensibility while also providing a serious examination of Bettie's Christianity. The unironic portrayal of her faith adds depth to the lighthearted film and builds to a touching affirmation of her beliefs. Visually THE NOTORIOUS BETTIE PAGE is a knockout with silky black and white cinematography accented by a few scenes in sumptuous color.
6. A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION (Robert Altman, 2006)
A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION is a joyous celebration of homespun Midwestern wit and wisdom and a eulogy for it as well. The show itself is a glorious blend of rootsy music and cornpone humor that induces groans and laughs. Accompanied by live sound effects, Keillor’s extended ad libbing to fill time while his shuffled script is put back in order is hilarious, not to mention an impressive feat by people at the top of their craft. At the age of 81, it is understandable that mortality was on Robert Altman’s mind for what proved to be the director's last film. He doesn’t grapple with death, which is personified in the film, but comes to terms with it. The veteran director has long been a critical success but found commercial acceptance more fleeting. Yet A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION finds the maverick at peace with his accomplishments even if he wasn’t ready for it all to end.
7. CHARLOTTE'S WEB (Gary Winick, 2006)
CHARLOTTE'S WEB is a beautiful tale of friendship that spoons out the virtues of kindness and generosity without a medicinal taste. The characters and the film are invested with common decency, but the film is anything but stodgy. There are many funny moments that lighten the heavier themes. The voicework is first-rate, particularly Roberts' sensitive embodiment of Charlotte. She delivers her lines with quiet, dignified grace, transforming the creature with a scary exterior into something extraordinarily lovely because of what's inside. CHARLOTTE'S WEB has heart and intelligence, qualities that combine for a transcendent time at the movies.
8. NEIL YOUNG: HEART OF GOLD (Jonathan Demme, 2006)
If only all concert films could be as perfect as this document of Neil Young's two nights performing in Nashville's legendary Ryman Auditorium. NEIL YOUNG: HEART OF GOLD finds the rocker in excellent form. Director Jonathan Demme and editor Andy Keir sculpt each song to maximize the impact of the performance. It is also beautifully shot in golden tones by Ellen Kuras.
9. TRISTRAM SHANDY: A COCK AND BULL STORY (Michael Winterbottom, 2005)
Michael Winterbottom distills Laurence Sterne's comic experimentation with the rules and shape of the novel and translates it into a lark on filmmaking form and technique. What is in essence a plotless film circles around itself and turns it into one of the funniest movies of the year. The versatile director playfully experiments in the making of this period piece, and star Steve Coogan fools around with and deconstructs his image. Coogan plays himself as an insecure nitwit to hilarious effect.
10. THE SCIENCE OF SLEEP (Michel Gondry, 2006)
Screenwriter Charlie Kaufman tended to get the lion’s share of the credit for ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND. THE SCIENCE OF SLEEP shows that director Michel Gondry’s contributions were equally important to that film. Gondry’s whimsical and surreal visual style is perfectly suited for bittersweet stories about love and relationships. He makes churning, outsized emotions tangible through the fantastical images his characters occupy and create. Here Gondry plumbs the depths of emotions in endlessly imaginative ways. The director renders complicated primal feelings as fanciful, childlike creations, a technique that highlights a sense of wonder and a limited understanding of what is really at play.
Best Moviegoing Experience of 2006
Without a doubt, the midnight screening of SNAKES ON A PLANE ranks as some of the most fun I've ever had at the movies. The unpretentious B-movie isn't anywhere close to being the greatest achievement in cinema but so what? Seeing this goofy action-comedy with friends and and an enthusiastic crowd was what going to the movies should be.
Festival prizes
I think it's easy for my critical judgment to become compromised when seeing a lot of movies in a condensed period of time, especially if I've gone through a particularly bad stretch. Here are some of the best I saw at festivals in 2006:
-ADAM'S APPLES (ADAMS ÆBLER) (Anders Thomas Jensen, 2005)
A marvelous dark comedy about evil and faith. Wrestles with religious conviction in a way not usually seen.
-THE BOW (HWAL) (Kim Ki-duk, 2005)
-FACTOTUM (Bent Hamer, 2005)
-MEASURES TO BETTER THE WORLD (WELTVERBESSERUNGMAßNAHMEN) (Jörn Hintzer and Jakob Hüfner, 2005)
If THE DAILY SHOW were a German film composed of sketches.
-THE MIGHTY CELT (Pearse Elliott, 2005)
On the surface Christopher Nolan's tale of dueling magicians appears to be a clever, highly entertaining film and nothing else. Ah, but as we're instructed at the beginning, watch closely. Like any good magician, Nolan makes his cinematic sleight-of-hand in THE PRESTIGE look effortless, but it takes a lot of skill to create a film that is not only a joy to watch but also a deep exploration of the costs of dedicating oneself to a craft. Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman give terrific performances, the greatness of which are more apparent on a second viewing of this layered film. Supporting performances by Michael Caine and David Bowie as Nikola Tesla are little treasures to be found while sorting out this puzzle film.
2. THE DEPARTED (Martin Scorsese, 2006)
THE DEPARTED is no departure for Martin Scorsese, whose signature work finds him in the back alleyways with criminals and a taste for violence. This crackling crime film with hard-boiled wit is one of the director's funniest movies in recent memory. Screenwriter William Monahan demonstrates an aptitude for hard-bitten, vulgar, macho language similar to that of David Mamet. Monahan also keeps the pretzel twist of a plot clear, which is a big accomplishment for a film both confusing and straightforward.
3. UNITED 93 (Paul Greengrass, 2006)
Director Paul Greengrass' masterful look at the events of 9/11 is difficult to watch, but this overview of what happened makes for some of the most gripping viewing you'll come across even though the end is known before the film starts. A gut-wrenching recreation of the day's confusion, UNITED 93 gains power from its fly on the wall perspective in the air traffic control rooms and doomed plane.
4. BORAT: CULTURAL LEARNINGS OF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN (Larry Charles, 2006)
BORAT is the rare comedy that operates without a safety net. Star Sacha Baron Cohen and director Larry Charles’ film provides constant laughter and surprises while daring the viewer to be rightfully offended. Cohen’s total commitment to the character and control is astonishing. While Cohen’s portrayal of the fictional TV reporter may not typify what gets classified as outstanding acting, this is a great performance. In our daily lives we’d find Borat detestable, but on screen, even when being actively mean to undeserving folks, he’s completely likable.
5. THE NOTORIOUS BETTIE PAGE (Mary Harron, 2005)
THE NOTORIOUS BETTIE PAGE may be the sweetest movie ever made about pornography. Featuring Gretchen Mol's outstanding performance as the pin-up queen, the film sparkles with a frothy pop sensibility while also providing a serious examination of Bettie's Christianity. The unironic portrayal of her faith adds depth to the lighthearted film and builds to a touching affirmation of her beliefs. Visually THE NOTORIOUS BETTIE PAGE is a knockout with silky black and white cinematography accented by a few scenes in sumptuous color.
6. A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION (Robert Altman, 2006)
A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION is a joyous celebration of homespun Midwestern wit and wisdom and a eulogy for it as well. The show itself is a glorious blend of rootsy music and cornpone humor that induces groans and laughs. Accompanied by live sound effects, Keillor’s extended ad libbing to fill time while his shuffled script is put back in order is hilarious, not to mention an impressive feat by people at the top of their craft. At the age of 81, it is understandable that mortality was on Robert Altman’s mind for what proved to be the director's last film. He doesn’t grapple with death, which is personified in the film, but comes to terms with it. The veteran director has long been a critical success but found commercial acceptance more fleeting. Yet A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION finds the maverick at peace with his accomplishments even if he wasn’t ready for it all to end.
7. CHARLOTTE'S WEB (Gary Winick, 2006)
CHARLOTTE'S WEB is a beautiful tale of friendship that spoons out the virtues of kindness and generosity without a medicinal taste. The characters and the film are invested with common decency, but the film is anything but stodgy. There are many funny moments that lighten the heavier themes. The voicework is first-rate, particularly Roberts' sensitive embodiment of Charlotte. She delivers her lines with quiet, dignified grace, transforming the creature with a scary exterior into something extraordinarily lovely because of what's inside. CHARLOTTE'S WEB has heart and intelligence, qualities that combine for a transcendent time at the movies.
8. NEIL YOUNG: HEART OF GOLD (Jonathan Demme, 2006)
If only all concert films could be as perfect as this document of Neil Young's two nights performing in Nashville's legendary Ryman Auditorium. NEIL YOUNG: HEART OF GOLD finds the rocker in excellent form. Director Jonathan Demme and editor Andy Keir sculpt each song to maximize the impact of the performance. It is also beautifully shot in golden tones by Ellen Kuras.
9. TRISTRAM SHANDY: A COCK AND BULL STORY (Michael Winterbottom, 2005)
Michael Winterbottom distills Laurence Sterne's comic experimentation with the rules and shape of the novel and translates it into a lark on filmmaking form and technique. What is in essence a plotless film circles around itself and turns it into one of the funniest movies of the year. The versatile director playfully experiments in the making of this period piece, and star Steve Coogan fools around with and deconstructs his image. Coogan plays himself as an insecure nitwit to hilarious effect.
10. THE SCIENCE OF SLEEP (Michel Gondry, 2006)
Screenwriter Charlie Kaufman tended to get the lion’s share of the credit for ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND. THE SCIENCE OF SLEEP shows that director Michel Gondry’s contributions were equally important to that film. Gondry’s whimsical and surreal visual style is perfectly suited for bittersweet stories about love and relationships. He makes churning, outsized emotions tangible through the fantastical images his characters occupy and create. Here Gondry plumbs the depths of emotions in endlessly imaginative ways. The director renders complicated primal feelings as fanciful, childlike creations, a technique that highlights a sense of wonder and a limited understanding of what is really at play.
Best Moviegoing Experience of 2006
Without a doubt, the midnight screening of SNAKES ON A PLANE ranks as some of the most fun I've ever had at the movies. The unpretentious B-movie isn't anywhere close to being the greatest achievement in cinema but so what? Seeing this goofy action-comedy with friends and and an enthusiastic crowd was what going to the movies should be.
Festival prizes
I think it's easy for my critical judgment to become compromised when seeing a lot of movies in a condensed period of time, especially if I've gone through a particularly bad stretch. Here are some of the best I saw at festivals in 2006:
-ADAM'S APPLES (ADAMS ÆBLER) (Anders Thomas Jensen, 2005)
A marvelous dark comedy about evil and faith. Wrestles with religious conviction in a way not usually seen.
-THE BOW (HWAL) (Kim Ki-duk, 2005)
-FACTOTUM (Bent Hamer, 2005)
-MEASURES TO BETTER THE WORLD (WELTVERBESSERUNGMAßNAHMEN) (Jörn Hintzer and Jakob Hüfner, 2005)
If THE DAILY SHOW were a German film composed of sketches.
-THE MIGHTY CELT (Pearse Elliott, 2005)
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