Crank

CRANK (Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, 2006)

CRANK hit man Chev Chelios (Jason Statham) is injected with a synthetic Chinese drug that will kill him in an hour unless he can keep his adrenaline pumping at a high level. Faced with limited time to get revenge and reveal his true occupation to his girlfriend Eve (Amy Smart), Chev tears through the city at a breakneck speed by car, motorcycle, and foot.

CRANK works overtime to be a disreputable bit of pulp fiction, and for the first half or so it’s like inhaling the cinematic equivalent of the film’s title. Statham’s anti-hero will do anything to keep his heart pounding, be it doing cocaine off a grimy floor, chugging Red Bulls, snorting one nasal inhaler after another, jabbing himself with multiple doses of epinephrine, burning his hand in a waffle iron, or engaging in vigorous public sex in front of a busload of Japanese tourists. It’s the stuff of nightmares for parental media watch groups, especially because CRANK is playing it for humor.

This devil may care attitude makes CRANK feel like an adrenaline rush, but after an energy burn comes the crash. Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor’s direction is similarly aggressive. Using all manner of attention-grabbing techniques like Tony Scott, they shoot Statham through a microwave oven door, slap words onto the image to emphasize points, and, in a first, use Google Earth a few times as a transition. There’s a nice section where Statham drives his car through a mall, but the only way we know at first is by looking at the background in the tightly composed close-up.

CRANK is a lot of fun for awhile, but this boisterous, violent take on D.O.A. can’t sustain the manic energy over 87 minutes.

Grade: C

For real?

Did you miss the televised memorial service for Steve Irwin, a.k.a. The Crocodile Hunter? No worries, if the Sydney Morning Herald has the story right.

Steve Irwin's memorial service is expected to be available on a DVD which could possibly sell millions of copies worldwide.

Uh, what?!

I thought it was kind of weird that this was televised in the first place--no, I didn't see it--but I can understand, sort of, why his fans might want to tune in. But selling a DVD? Doesn't this seem at least a little grotesque? And who are these projected millions of people interested in buying it?

It's one thing if sales of THE CROCODILE HUNTER: COLLISION COURSE enjoy an upward spike in the aftermath of his death, but offering Irwin's memorial service for purchase is all kinds of weird celebrity fascination creepy that I simply don't get. Heaven forbid that the DVD include the video of the accidental death, which I thought I read was caught on tape, or a grieving widow commentary track.

Seriously, is there anyone reading this who would purchase a DVD of a celebrity or public figure's memorial service? Is the next breakthrough industry funeral videography?

Film Footwear

I don't get many promo items, but a pretty cool one came in the mail today. Yes, I received a pair of Converse Chuck Taylor: JACKASS edition canvas high tops pictured above.

A couple weeks ago Paramount sent a postcard asking for my chuck size, or Chuck size in this case. I e-mailed it to the appropriate address, and today these size 12 kicks arrived. Like the WAR OF THE WORLDS survival radio-light with a generator crank, this is the rare studio swag that I might actually use.

The shoes are a great way to promote JACKASS: NUMBER TWO, although chances are they're wasting their time with me if the footwear is intended to sway critical opinion. (I don't think that's the purpose, but I'm sure some see it as quid pro quo.)

The first JACKASS film easily earned a spot in my worst of the year for 2002, and unless there are significant differences between that film and the new one--fat chance, I'm guessing--the sequel is likely to follow suit. I haven't seen it yet but will be reviewing it on WROV this Friday around 4:30 p.m. (You can listen live via the internet.)

Then again, the trailer for JACKASS: NUMBER TWO trumpets the bad reviews the previous movie received, so maybe this is a reverse psychology gambit to get critical beatdowns that will be useful in marketing the film as anti-establishment.

Regardless, the shoes won't be influencing my review. These sure beat those candy hearts promoting BE COOL, though.

Personal top 10 of the last ten years

The last post about the OFCS Top 100 Films of the Last 10 Years ventured into the comments. Following up on that, here's a rashly decided personal top 10 from 1996-2005.

1. AFTER LIFE (WANDÂFURU RAIFU) (Hirokazu Kore-eda, 1998)
2. MULHOLLAND DR. (David Lynch, 2001)
3. BEFORE SUNSET (Richard Linklater, 2004)
4. WAKING LIFE (Richard Linklater, 2001)
5. THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS (Wes Anderson, 2001)
6. PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2002)
7. THE TRUMAN SHOW (Peter Weir, 1998)
8. THE SWEET HEREAFTER (Atom Egoyan, 1997)
9. IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE (FA YEUNG NIN WA) (Wong Kar-wai, 2000)
10. GERRY (Gus Van Sant, 2002)

This is very much a list based on mental imagery and emotional brush strokes. I favored the films that have lingered with me the longest. THE ICE STORM, my top film of 1997 at the time, may have a rightful claim to a spot in this best of the best, but I haven't seen it in nine years. Only four of these were "winners" for their respective years: THE TRUMAN SHOW, MULHOLLAND DR., PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE, and GERRY. (Here's where actual US release date and IMDB release dates conflict. GERRY premiered in 2002 but didn't bow domestically until 2003.)

Hirokazu's film knocked me out on first viewing, and its power hasn't dimmed in the intervening years. If there's one film I really would have liked to have seen on the OFCS list, this is it.

OFCS Top 100 Films of the Last 10 Years

To commemorate its tenth anniversary, the Online Film Critics Society, of which I am a member, surveyed the membership regarding the best films of the last ten years. The results are:

1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
2. Fargo
3. Memento
4. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
5. L.A. Confidential
6. Brokeback Mountain
7. Being John Malkovich
8. City of God
9. Mulholland Drive
10. Lost in Translation
11. Almost Famous
12. Magnolia
13. Election
14. Fight Club
15. In the Mood for Love
16. The Truman Show
17. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
18. Moulin Rouge
19. Saving Private Ryan
20. Kill Bill, Volume 1
21. Rushmore
22. Million Dollar Baby
23. A History of Violence
24. Kill Bill, Volume 2
25. Downfall
26. Hero
27. Three Kings
28. O Brother, Where Art Thou?
29. Spirited Away
30. The Iron Giant
31. Boogie Nights
32. The Big Lebowski
33. The Sixth Sense
34. Out of Sight
35. Dogville
36. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
37. Punch-Drunk Love
38. Good Night, and Good Luck.
39. Far from Heaven
40. Waiting for Guffman
41. American Beauty
42. The Matrix
43. Lone Star
44. The Sweet Hereafter
45. Donnie Darko
46. Secrets & Lies
47. The Insider
48. Ghost World
49. Toy Story 2
50. Before Sunset
51. Breaking the Waves
52. The Ice Storm
53. The Constant Gardener
54. Sideways
55. The Incredibles
56. The Royal Tenenbaums
57. The Thin Red Line
58. Chungking Express
59. Eyes Wide Shut
60. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
61. Finding Nemo
62. Gosford Park
63. The Pianist
64. Grizzly Man
65. Run Lola Run
66. Requiem for a Dream
67. The Celebration
68. Contact
69. Hedwig and the Angry Inch
70. Spider-Man 2
71. Chicago
72. Gods and Monsters
73. Jerry Maguire
74. Wonder Boys
75. American Splendor
76. Dancer in the Dark
77. Adaptation
78. Shakespeare in Love
79. Best in Show
80. Traffic
81. Crash (2005)
82. Titanic
83. The 25th Hour
84. Bowling for Columbine
85. Amores Perros
86. Elephant
87. The Aviator
88. Y Tu Mama Tambien
89. Hotel Rwanda
90. Jackie Brown
91. The Straight Story
92. Grosse Pointe Blank
93. In the Bedroom
94. Life is Beautiful
95. High Fidelity
96. The Blair Witch Project
97. A.I.: Artificial Intelligence
98. Gangs of New York
99. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring
100. Amelie

We were asked to nominate up to twenty films for each year from 1996-2005. Not having kept the best of records, it was a relatively painstaking process, especially when it came to determining years for foreign films whose IMDB release dates are based on first public screening. (If I feel like it, I'll get around to posting my imperfect nomination ballot.) From there the membership was presented with a top 400 and asked to whittle it down to a top 50, with each member ranking their picks. (I confess to going through the arduous weeding process but forgetting to finish in time for the deadline.)

So, first impressions of the list? I don't know that there are many surprises. I wouldn't have figured DOWNFALL would make the cut, let alone place relatively high (#25). While I liked it a lot, I hardly think it's the third best foreign language film of the last ten years, which is how it fits within this list. Lars von Trier fared well as three of his films made the list, including a surprising showing for DOGVILLE (#35).

There aren't any real shockers. I'd wager that all of these films did well in annual polls for their respective years. GROSSE POINTE BLANK at #92 might be the one selection to come out of nowhere. THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT (#96) had heat at the time, but I wonder if people still think of it as well as they did then.

Sure, the list is heavy on English-language films and the prestige pictures, but in putting together a list like this, it's inevitable that one of the overriding factors is going to be the number of people who have seen the films in question. Hirokazu Kore-eda's AFTER LIFE (WANDÂFURU RAIFU) and David Gordon Green's ALL THE REAL GIRLS--if not GEORGE WASHINGTON as well--would make my list, but I suspect that they've not been as widely seen. (The only film on this list that I haven't seen is CHUNGKING EXPRESS, and there's really no good excuse why I haven't.)

Anyway, here's another bunch of ranked films for our list-obsessed culture to argue over. Have at it.

State of the blog

So things have been a little slow around here the last few months. Chalk it up to a nasty bout of writer's block or apathy. I've amassed a backlog of reviews from the TV show that I'll get to posting over the next week or so.

Call it George Lucas Disease, if you want. I'd been in the habit of writing reviews for NOW PLAYING and then expanding and tweaking them for the blog. It was an admirable idea, but combined with a general feeling of stuckness when it came to writing, it meant that I didn't post them because I needed to polish them more. You see where that got me. The desire to refine what was already "done"--the reviews were on television after all--just meant they rattled around my brain and never emerged from there. Being in my tenth year of reviewing films, seventh online, I suppose it was about time for me to cramp up for a stretch. Having a perfectionist tendency doesn't help.

I feel like the dam has been broken, so hopefully I'll be posting more regularly than has been the case recently. Credit a book review of Douglas Coupland's JPod that I wrote while on vacation. Flexing some slightly different critical muscles must have loosened up the others. I'll post that review here eventually. I wrote it for Nights and Weekends.com and am waiting for it to get published there before reposting it on this blog. (It should appear any day now. I'll post a link when one is available.)

Stop making my ears bleed

Nick Hornby's HIGH FIDELITY is one of my favorite books, so I was pleasantly surprised that the film turned out to be as good as it did. (It made my 2000 top 10 list.) In fact, Hornby's track record with book-to-film adaptations has been sterling. OK, the British version of FEVER PITCH pales in comparison to the Farrelly brothers' movie, but the film adaptations have distilled the essence of his novels quite well.

This is a roundabout way of saying that I was relatively horrified to learn via Stereogum that HIGH FIDELITY is being turned into a Broadway musical. Maybe that doesn't sound so bad to you, especially if you're more partial to showtunes than I am. Take a listen to four songs from the show and tell me this isn't all kinds of wrong.

I'm not predisposed to disliking everything that comes from musical theater, but admittedly it's not my favorite thing in the world either. That said, not only are these songs bad, they're anathema to the musical tastes of the characters. Record store clerks wouldn't be caught dead blaring the cast recording unless they're trying to clear the store at the end of the day. If the idea is to make something cool for those in their twenties and thirties, the least the producers could do is to put together a songbook with a little more edge than Broadway's idea of rock.

Having Stephin Merritt write the songs would have given it street credibility with HIGH FIDELITY characters like Rob and Barry while still attending to the leanings of traditional theatergoers. Otherwise it just seems backwards to take a story about serious music fans--snobs, if you will--and decorate it with songs they wouldn't be caught dead listening to. These songs do not rock.

Undermining Idiocracy

BEAVIS AND BUTT-HEAD creator and OFFICE SPACE director Mike Judge had a new film open this past Friday, not that anyone noticed. It wasn’t difficult to overlook. IDIOCRACY, a satire set a thousand years in the future, was unceremoniously dumped in Atlanta, Austin, Chicago, Dallas, Houston, Los Angeles, and Toronto and left to fail per its hush-hush release.

IDIOCRACY first crossed my radar last spring when it appeared on the upcoming release grid e-mailed to critics. At the time it was titled 3001, and if memory serves, it was supposed to open in late summer 2005. As a fan of Judge's previous work, I looked forward to it despite information being pretty limited. Of course, with the sheer number of films opening each week and not a peep in the press about IDIOCRACY, I forgot about it until it turned up on the grid with a September 1, 2006 release date. I never saw a trailer, but a poster playing off of Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian man drawing showed up in at least one theater in town.

And then the posters disappeared, it fell off the grid, and it bowed with as little publicity possible for a major studio release. For comparison’s sake, September 1 openers THE WICKER MAN and CRANK were not screened in advance for the press, although industrious, in-the-know critics could gain admittance to 10:00 p.m. Thursday screenings with the proper promises. Still, in my observation both films were promoted in the typical fashion (trailers, posters, and TV advertisements). CROSSOVER, an amateurish streetball pic with limited commercial prospects, had a Wednesday night promo screening in Columbus, too late for the alt-weeklies but plenty in advance for the dailies and websites.

Could IDIOCRACY be that bad? Maybe. Nevertheless, studios release plenty of crummy films, but that doesn’t make them shy about making sure moviegoers know that their products will be at theaters near you this Friday. Even with the valid huffing and puffing about the number of films not screening for critics this year, a good number of stinkers are still shown to the press.

Regardless of IDIOCRACY'S quality, Judge’s name ought to be worth something. OFFICE SPACE was a box office disappointment but found its audience on DVD. Its home video success even spurred Swingline to make a red stapler, a treasured item that previously didn’t exist outside the film’s universe. IDIOCRACY star Luke Wilson may not be a sure-fire box office draw, but this summer’s flat comedy MY SUPER EX-GIRLFRIEND, in which he starred alongside Uma Thurman, still managed to collect $22 million to date in box office receipts. No matter how bad the film might be, a trailer and minimal marketing campaign with Wilson’s face and Judge’s credits should have been able to pull in a few bucks at the nation’s theaters.

As it stands, most of us don’t have a chance to see it, including the residents of New York City. It is extremely rare for a major studio to release a film and not open it in NYC, which begs the question of what is really going on here. New York-based writer Bilge Ebiri is doing all he can to get to the bottom of the story, going so far as to try and coax film industry writers David Poland and Jeffrey Wells to see IDIOCRACY. On his ScreenGrab blog Ebiri points out that the few reviews out there are generally favorable, including Carina Chocano’s positive L.A. Times piece, but press coverage of the film is noticeably absent.

Regardless of if the film is unspeakably bad, a maligned masterpiece, or something in between, kudos to Ebiri for trying to bring the story to light even if he can’t see IDIOCRACY. In this age of frontloaded box office, critical opinion probably doesn’t make more than a superficial dent on the bodies of the blockbusters. Critics can make a difference with small films, and he’s doing what he can to bring IDIOCRACY to our attention. Judge’s film seems destined to film maudit status, but it would be nice if the moviegoing public could actually have a chance to determine whether such a designation is deserved or not.

Snakes at the box office

It appears that SNAKES ON A PLANE topped the weekend box office race, although the final tally is probably lower than what fans and industry watchers were expecting. The film should still prove to be a financial success even if it's not as big of a money maker that all of the internet fervor indicated it might be. Honestly, modest returns will probably help the film become the cult movie it was destined to be.

About half of the film's business came from the late Thursday night and Friday screenings, which isn't a surprise. The hardcore fans turned out immediately and sought reviews on opening day. My site traffic saw an incredible spike on Friday, approximately nine times more than I usually get. (By my count I was the eleventh person on Rotten Tomatoes to post a review link, which went a long way toward snagging readers.) Traffic returned to normal levels Saturday and Sunday, which tells me that interest in the film didn't extend much beyond the core group.

I imagine that SNAKES will take a hard tumble at the box office in subsequent weeks. With everything oriented on opening weekend, that's the fate for most films, although SNAKES may prove to be particularly vulnerable since the majority of its audience probably have seen it. Still, smart theater operators ought to hang onto it for awhile for late night screenings. It's really the only time to see the movie.

Snakes on a Plane

SNAKES ON A PLANE (David R. Ellis, 2006)

The act of moviegoing, of seeing a film with an audience, has taken its share of knocks in recent years. Ringing cell phones, talkative patrons, and endless pre-film advertisements are common reasons why some claim not to bother with heading to the local multiplex to see the latest Hollywood releases. Better and more affordable home theater systems and a shrunken theatrical-to-home video window have led to some deciding that waiting for the DVD is good enough.

Leave it to SNAKES ON A PLANE, a modestly budgeted action movie about air passengers being attacked by serpents, to provide a shot in the arm for the theatrical experience. Here’s a film that isn’t ruined because people are whooping it up and talking back to the screen but enhanced by their enthusiastic dialogue with it. SNAKES ON A PLANE may not be a good movie by conventional standards, but with the proper amount of love via audience participation, this genre picture is exactly the sort of silly fun that mega-priced, B-grade tentpole films often fail to be.

The film’s interactive element is in its DNA. That great title, four words that tell potential ticket buyers everything they could want or need to know about the movie, caught the attention of the internet community early on. Fans made blogs, t-shirts, and songs about the film even though much wasn’t known about it beyond the title and its star, Samuel L. Jackson. When rumors popped up that the title was being changed to the terminally dull PACIFIC AIR FLIGHT 121, the online outcry against the supposed switch probably ensured that SNAKES ON A PLANE would stick. Why not give the customers what they want? What they wanted was SNAKES ON A PLANE.

The studio took things a step further by incorporating a line for the fans. Jackson’s emphatic exclamation of his character’s dissatisfaction with the high-flying snakes has been well-publicized and will certainly be the loudest moment when the crowd roars its approval. In spite of all of the names in the credits, SNAKES ON A PLANE long ago ceased to belong to the filmmakers when obsessed fans accepted it site unseen as their own.

The story of SNAKES ON A PLANE is practically secondary as long as it delivers mile-high serpent on human action, but if you must know… As FBI Agent Flynn, Jackson escorts Sean (Nathan Phillips), a vital but reluctant witness for the prosecution, from Honolulu to Los Angeles so he can testify against murderous mobster Eddie Kim (Byron Lawson). Kim is unable to get to Sean via the usual methods, so he turns to a plan the feds are unlikely to have anticipated. Snakes from all over the world and of every color and size are secretly put on board the red eye South Pacific Airlines flight. The leis in the cargo hold are sprayed with pheromones that make the snakes aggressive. Two hours into the five hour trip the snakes are released to wreak maximum havoc.

SNAKES ON A PLANE has been put together in a manner befitting its schlock cinema roots. The characters—the badass cop, the flight attendant on her last shift, the spoiled blonde, the nervous boys flying alone, the uptight elitist—are all one-note because snakes don’t care about the backstories of their dinners. The camera placement, screenplay, and dialogue, save for a few quotable bits, are functional more than anything. Director David R. Ellis has demonstrated skill with setpieces in FINAL DESTINATION 2 and CELLULAR, the latter of which was a higher quality B-movie than SNAKES, but he isn’t called upon to do much here beyond showing snakes attack.

Whether it is was intended to be a comedy or it morphed into that when the internet buzz began, the choice to play SNAKES ON A PLANE sincerely but for laughs is its saving grace. It’s funny because it’s gloriously stupid and doesn’t nudge the audience’s ribs to make sure the joke is being understood. Such prompting is unnecessary for a group that was in on the joke before they saw a frame of the film.

There aren’t many actors who could have pulled off the SNAKES trifecta of being stone serious, tongue in cheek, and supremely cool as Jackson. He seems to be having as much fun making the movie as the viewers are watching it. This won’t be remembered as one of his great performances—the material he’s working with simply isn’t good enough—but it helps solidify his status as a symbol of movie cool now and for years to come after he’s retired.

The midnight movie has gone by the wayside, but SNAKES begs to be seen late at night with a rambunctious crowd. What better time is there to encourage audience participation? SNAKES ON A PLANE lifts off when strangers and friends come together to hiss in giddy expectation and in approval. It isn’t great filmmaking, but it is a great experience. Why shouldn’t there be enough room among the moviegoing choices out there for something as dumb and enjoyable as SNAKES ON A PLANE?

Grade: B-

Snakes on the brain

So the blogging and posting of TV reviews has been slow on my part for the last month or two. I'm taking some vacation time next week, so hopefully that'll let me get back on track here.

Meanwhile, the big news is that after months of speculation, anticipation, and more internet buzz than you can shake a stick at, SNAKES ON A PLANE will finally be seen tonight. I'm not thrilled that New Line didn't screen it for the press, although tonight's 10 p.m. show will be a de facto media showing since a bunch of critics are meeting for dinner and drinks and then going to the film. OK, so I'd rather not have dropped $9.50--thanks for the extra dollar online fee for non-Movie Watcher club card holders, AMC--but this is a rare case in which I'd rather see the film with what is sure to be a rowdy crowd of ticket buyers than with my peers or contest winners.

The media SNAKES frenzy peaked a couple months ago, but this first screening ought to bring out the hardcore enthusiasts. Whether the film stinks or not, the moviegoing experience should be a blast. Unless New Line mounted the most brilliant viral marketing campaign ever, the SNAKES ON A PLANE phenomenon has come entirely at the grassroots level. It's pretty stunning when you consider that it isn't a franchise film with beloved characters but a trashy genre pic. I hope to love every minute of it.

Assuming SNAKES is a success--at its production costs and the amount of people who want to see it, how can it not be?--is it too much to ask that we not get a bunch of studio imitators? I don't mean the quickie direct-to-video rip-offs like the already available SNAKES ON A TRAIN but the inevitable copycat films from other genre divisions. The key aspects for this particular film are Samuel L. Jackson and self-generated fan enthusiasm. The latter is probably due in part to the former. Jackson is still one of the coolest guys on screen, which should help his films and his reputation age well in years to come. Still, even with Jackson, SNAKES mania on the internet has reached a level that a marketing department is not capable of producing. Enjoy the unexpected financial awards this film will likely deliver and let it be.

At the minimum I'll post some reactions, if not a review, of SNAKES ON A PLANE late tonight. Plenty of other critics will probably be doing the same thing. Let's hope it's because we're thrilled with what we've seen.

You, Me and Dupree

YOU, ME AND DUPREE (Anthony Russo and Joe Russo, 2006)

Newlyweds Carl and Molly Peterson (Matt Dillon and Kate Hudson) begin married life with a third wheel in their lives in YOU, ME AND DUPREE. They return from their honeymoon and learn that Carl’s best man, Dupree (Owen Wilson), is jobless and homeless because he didn’t have approval to take off the time he spent in Hawaii for their wedding. Despite his wife’s protestations, Carl invites Dupree to crash at their home and assures Molly that his pal just needs a couple days to get back on his feet.

Dupree is a free spirit, though, and his job search is less exhaustive than his time spent training on his bike and getting a half-pipe constructed for neighborhood skateboarders. The tension between hosts and guest build, yet try as they might, they can’t get rid of Dupree.

Carl and Molly’s marriage also faces a challenge from his father-in-law (Michael Douglas), a major real estate developer and Carl’s boss. Mr. Thompson assigns Carl a plum job and then undercuts every decision he makes. He suggests that his son-in-law might wish to take his daughter’s last name, and perhaps he should explore the possibility of getting a vasectomy. Meanwhile Molly becomes frustrated with Carl’s inability to communicate and do something about his friend.

YOU, ME AND DUPREE coasts a lot on the laidback charm of Owen Wilson. He’s carrying out a lesser version of the lovable space cadet that’s been his stock in trade since BOTTLE ROCKET. Of course he’s the kind of guy who would have a mounted moose head among his essentials and turn down a job because it requires him to work on Columbus Day. If more of the film had the zing of Dupree’s inspirational speech to the slackers of tomorrow, keeping in mind it is Molly’s grade school class, this modest comedy might have amounted to something.

As it is, YOU, ME AND DUPREE is shiftless like the loafing thirtysomething. It moves in fits and starts, undecided whether the story is being told from the perspective of Dillon’s slow-burning Carl or the fun-loving Dupree. Carl’s workplace aggravations occasionally add some laughs, but those scenes are inessential to the primary struggle. Halfway through YOU, ME AND DUPREE changes from Carl’s view to Dupree’s. It’s no wonder. Dupree is the more entertaining character, not to mention the most consistently drawn. Carl gets mangled in the gears of the plot. Hudson attempts to bring her light touch to Molly, but her character is simply misconceived. She vanishes for long stretches only to pop up and behave in an inconsistent manner. (Strangely, the other women in the film--a friend's wife played by Amanda Detmer and Dupree's one night stand--are virtually invisible. Detmer is billed in the opening credits, but in my recollection, the only time she’s glimpsed is in rare views running around in the background. If she has any lines, they’re in one of the early wedding scenes.)

Unfortunately for YOU, ME AND DUPREE, it's easier to invest patience in people stumbling to find focus and purpose than films searching for the same things.

Grade: C-

The Devil Wears Prada

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA (David Frankel, 2006)

Fresh out of j-school at Northwestern, Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) snags a choice job as assistant to the assistant of Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep), the editor of top New York-based fashion magazine Runway. Working a year for Miranda supposedly opens doors to any number of jobs in the publishing world. The catch is that few possess the stamina and steel spine to withstand the indignity and withering criticism the boss from hell dispenses without batting an eye.

For a go-getter like Andy in THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA, it’s merely another challenge that hard work and a positive attitude can overcome; however, in Miranda’s office plucky spirits get plucked. Andy’s college education isn’t of much use when her main priorities are hanging up the coats tossed on her desk and catering to Miranda’s every whim, such as getting an immediate flight out of a city beset by a hurricane and obtaining the unpublished manuscript of the next Harry Potter novel because her bratty twin daughters want it. The work is menial, and Andy is always on call. She has little time for her boyfriend Nate (Adrian Grenier) or a social life of any kind. Support at the magazine is scarce with co-workers ranging from Miranda’s openly hostile assistant Emily (Emily Blunt) to Runway fashion director Nigel (Stanley Tucci), who lends a sympathetic ear yet advises Andy to toughen up or quit.

In superhero movies the protagonist is often not as interesting as the villain. The same is true in THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA. Hathaway exudes Midwestern decency and friendliness as Andy, but the juicy role belongs to Streep. Miranda, clearly modeled on Vogue’s Anna Wintour, is delightfully monstrous. As if toting a ballpeen hammer in her couture handbag, she delivers blows to designers and employees with quick taps requiring the fewest words and slightest inflections. Streep plays Miranda subtly, not needing theatrics for the razorblade spitting she does to nick all of the unquestionably incompetent people around the character.

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA also gets an assist from the supporting players. Blunt, last seen in MY SUMMER OF LOVE, has fun as the highly stressed assistant who admires and fears her boss. Tucci adds some comedic sparkle by hamming it up a little, but like the film as a whole, the broadest qualities are never allowed to become too flashy.

In one of the film’s better moments Miranda explains how high fashion filters down to bargain store clothes. It’s illuminating for anyone who’s ever wondered how the most outrageous designs are relevant or impact the attire we buy. The catty competitiveness is omnipresent but sanitized. A biting look inside the fashion world this isn’t.

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA takes an amused view of how a good young woman could slowly abandon her values in pursuit of a career. Not surprisingly, Andy finds that what she was losing was greater than what she was gaining. To be sure, not everyone must throw away their principles or politeness to succeed, but some fields provide a stiffer test than others. Although it develops into a breezy cautionary tale, Andy’s trial by fire is really just an employment horror story laughed at once it’s fallen off the résumé.

Grade: B-

This and That

Just thought I'd make mention that I'm finally getting around to catching up on some posting that should have been done over the last month or so. Reviews of THE BREAK-UP and THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS: TOKYO DRIFT have finally made their way online, and there are more to come over the weekend. (Also, check out yesterday's post about M. Night Shyamalan if you haven't already.)

I think I probably just needed to take a break after the whirwind of spring film festivals. Either that or my effort to get back in shape has been taking too much of my energy. (Running was a killer in today's heat.)

Those of you who watch NOW PLAYING, my TV show with Paul Markoff, may be wondering why our most recent show has been on for twice the time as usual. Some major equipment issues forced us to scrap our last scheduled taping, but we'll have a new show next week. Considering we've taped a show every two weeks since March 1997, I suppose we were due for a production hiccup like that.

It's not been a particularly good week movie-wise, so for the sake of something different, last night I went to the Wexner Center's B-Movie Hootenanny, a summer series whose title explains itself. It might be because I see enough bad new films that the allure of watching bad old films has diminished significantly for me. Let's just say the audiences at HOOTENANNY HOOT and outdoor screening of MONSTER ON THE CAMPUS got a bigger kick out of them than I did. Or maybe these were just the wrong films at the wrong time.

Around this time next week you should be able to listen online to my reviews on 96.3 WROV out of Roanoke, VA. The station plans to offer live streaming audio beginning Monday. I'll post full details of when I'll be on when I know more.

The Break-Up

THE BREAK-UP (Peyton Reed, 2006)

In THE BREAK-UP Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston sever their relationship but continue living under the same roof. Neither Vaughn’s Gary nor Aniston’s Brooke are willing to move out of the Chicago condo they own together, so they stake out their turf and do battle.

Director Peyton Reed’s last film, DOWN WITH LOVE, was a snappy battle of the sexes that laughed at the foibles of men and women resisting their attraction to one another. While consistently funny, THE BREAK-UP deals in bitterness and revenge, sometimes in ways that cut closer to the bone than most fluffy romantic comedies. Reed is working in Mike Nichols and WAR OF THE ROSES territory rather than boy and girl making nice scenarios. The raw emotion isn’t always in sync with the comedy, but it gives a more well-rounded perspective on this relationship than is presented in most films of this type.

THE BREAK-UP’S key is finding blame in both people yet blinding them to their own faults. Brooke expects Gary to read her mind and tries to manipulate him. Gary is self-centered and inconsiderate. Their inability to communicate openly and listen feeds the film’s comedy and pain. Vaughn’s in prime form as a professional smart aleck, but his snarky charm does unbalance audience sympathies somewhat. The THE BREAK-UP’S humor stings, but something fascinating emerges from the rubble of this broken relationship.

Among its many nicknames, Chicago is known as the Second City. As tour guide Gary explains near the film's end, the name refers to the stronger metropolis that emerged from the necessary rebuilding after the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. Likewise, the devastation of Gary and Brooke's romance lays the groundwork for them to construct better love affairs. Whether that will be with one another or other people is uncertain up to THE BREAK-UP'S final scene, which is a refreshing divergence from the genre's usual predictability.

Grade: B

The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift

THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS: TOKYO DRIFT (Justin Lin, 2006)

THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS franchise continues, but for TOKYO DRIFT it’ll have to do with a new cast and a move overseas. Lucas Black stars as Shawn Boswell, a road racer whose reckless driving has forced him and his mother to pick up and move where the local authorities don’t know him. Old habits die hard, though, and Shawn gets in a particularly destructive and dangerous race that results in his mother sending him to Japan to live with his long-absent Navy father. Although warned to stay away from cars, Shawn finds an underground group that specializes in a sliding technique known as drifting.

The car racing and stunts in THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS: TOKYO DRIFT are well executed and exciting in part from the sheer force of the soundtrack. Revving engines, squealing tires, and pounding music attack the eardrums. With its glittering pachinko parlors and active night life, Tokyo is a terrific new location for THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS. A chase through the downtown streets and a massive pedestrian crossing is thrilling stuff.

The third time around for THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS finds the franchise spinning its tires. Characterization isn’t the strong suit of this series of films, but then again, the key players are the autos, not the actors. Still, something has to hold together the scenes between the vehicle showcases. Shawn’s parental issues and cultural assimilation struggles are barely addressed, leaving Black with little to do. Bow Wow is underutilized as Twinkie, his military brat buddy with an emasculating name. The crime angle is typically the least interesting aspect of these films, and the yakuza subplot feels tacked on.

Grade: C

Night Time

M. Night Shyamalan has a lot at stake with next Friday's opening of LADY IN THE WATER. One of the few directors whose name carries marketing clout with mainstream audiences, Shyamalan's greatest commercial success, THE SIXTH SENSE, is also one of his greatest burdens. People loved the twist ending, and it's fair to say that they expected him to pull the rug out from under them in his follow-up films. Shyamalan's attempts to do so have been met with diminished enthusiasm, at least if the chatter on internet movie sites is any indication. Many felt burned by THE VILLAGE. Although it made more money at the box office than UNBREAKABLE, it was easily the worst reviewed spooker he's made. (I think it's his best film to date and placed it in my Top 10 of 2004.) It's not a good sign that when I saw the new, more intense LADY IN THE WATER trailer before SUPERMAN RETURNS some of the audience greeted it with audible groans.

Being tabbed "the next Spielberg" in an August 5, 2002 NEWSWEEK cover story put a target on him for critics and entertainment writers, in part because Shyamalan wasn't shy about voicing his ambition to achieve that level of success. Reportedly Shyamalan has a sizable ego, which would hardly seem to be a crime in Hollywood or of consequence as long as his work holds up to scrutiny. Nevertheless, with LADY IN THE WATER the entertainment journos can smell blood.

They're prepared to pounce in part because of Michael Bamberger's book THE MAN WHO HEARD VOICES: OR, HOW M. NIGHT SHYAMALAN RISKED HIS CAREER ON A FAIRY TALE. (I haven't read it, but Entertainment Weekly has an excerpt in their current issue.) Bilge Ebiri doesn't think Shyamalan deserves the scorn directed at him or that the book is his way of getting back at his former home studio. David Poland, not a big Shyamalan supporter if going by his previous columns, thinks that LADY IN THE WATER is a make-or-break film in the director's career.

Whether it turns out to be a film maudit, blockbuster, or something in between, LADY IN THE WATER appears poised to determine if Shyamalan will be perceived in the industry as a major commercial filmmaker. Has he lost the trust of moviegoers? Are his wide-reaching ambitions outdone by an overly insular perspective of his work? As a fan of his films and someone underwhelmed by most of this summer's big movies, I hope he can deliver the goods, but even if he does, I have a feeling that the tide has already turned on him in the minds of audiences and critics.

Super Sucker

SUPER SUCKER (Jeff Daniels, 2002)

Putting the words bad, bomb, or turkey in the title tempts fate and the critics, especially if the film stinks to high heaven. It’s like lobbing a big, fat pitch over the middle of the plate and expecting the hitter to keep the bat on his shoulder. So what is a critic to do when faced with a movie called SUPER SUCKER, whose tag line is “a new comedy that doesn’t blow…it sucks!”? As Joaquin Phoenix’s SIGNS character was instructed, swing away.

True to its name, SUPER SUCKER does indeed suck and suck hard. Contrary to the tag line, it blows too. Simply put, this movie about sweeper salesmen is a comedic vacuum.

Jeff Daniels is a SUPER SUCKER triple threat as writer, director, and star. (His production company Purple Rose Films is distributed the film.) Daniels plays Fred Barlow, a Super Sucker door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman. Fred attributes everything good in his life to the Super Sucker and the joy he gets from selling them.

Fred is one of two Super Sucker distributors in Johnson City, Michigan. Rival Winslow Schnaebelt (Harve Presnell), the devil in a red three-piece suit, is the more successful distributor. Winslow and associates soundly beat Fred and his motley salespeople in a month-long contest, leading the parent company to consider consolidating the two companies. One more thirty-day sales challenge will determine who will continue to distribute Super Suckers for the area.

Circumstances look dire for Fred. He can’t make any inroads while Winslow is trumpeting his distributorship with marching bands and airplane advertisements. After a particularly disastrous sales day, Fred returns home dejected. He accidentally, but serendipitously, finds his wife writhing on the bed in rapture while putting the Super Sucker to unconventional use. It seems that an antique drapery attachment, for those hard-to-reach places, is extremely effective in ways for which it was not originally conceived or designed.

Fred commissions a modern version of the discontinued attachment, and then he and crew start peddling the Super Sucker and its accessory as a domestic pleasure device, albeit as one big, expensive vibrator. The so-called “homemaker’s little helper” is an immediate success, sending sales to stratospheric levels. Vacuum cleaner sales can be cutthroat, and Winslow schemes to defeat his industrious opponent.

SUPER SUCKER isn’t remotely funny. The premise calls for lots of outrageous physical comedy, but all things considered, the film is tame. Assuming that a funny movie can be made about competing door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman--a major assumption considering how flat the jokes fall here--Daniels’ biggest mistake was to center the film on sweepers as sexual aids. It’s a one-joke idea that might sustain a sketch or a running gag tied to a character. Daniels’ choice to keep this from becoming full-tilt raunch is admirable, but if the concept calls for it, then follow through rather than be meek. There’s a scene, shot in one long take, where Fred is in bed with his wife while she pleasures herself with the Super Sucker. Obviously it’s supposed to be funny, but neither character says or does anything remotely humorous. His wife’s moans and groans are too subdued for a scene that needs to be played broadly, and Fred seems indifferent to his wife. SUPER SUCKER lacks the conviction to go all the way with the jokes, preferring to stay polite.

SUPER SUCKER isn’t told in the mockumentary style, but one wonders what Christopher Guest and his repertory players might have done with the premise in that format. He has nearly mastered the art of putting ordinary characters into situations that massage the absurd for laughs. A film featuring Guest, Eugene Levy, Catherine O’Hara, and Parker Posey engaged in a vacuum cleaner sales battle akin to GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS could be hysterical.

SUPER SUCKER is literally laugh-free. Lame wordplay around the words sucks and blows doesn’t cut it. Supposedly “funny” names and a character who has different “wacky” hairstyles every time we see her doesn’t do it either. Surprisingly, we’re spared an obligatory scene with a salesman ruining someone’s carpet during a demonstration, although the second most obvious joke we could expect, a cat getting sucked into one of the sweepers, does appear.

Daniels, a Michigan native, has given back to the state in the form of his Purple Rose Theatre Company. He has also given Michiganders a taste of moviemaking, shooting ESCANABA IN DA MOONLIGHT and SUPER SUCKER there. SUPER SUCKER feels like a small, independent film which people enjoyed making and which the community heartily supported. Good times and good intentions, though, don’t necessarily equal a good movie, something SUPER SUCKER is far from being.

Grade: F

A New Look

It's been not quite two years since I last gave the ol' site a facelift. This is the third look for it, and it is easily the sleekest of the bunch. Other than some minor changes, expect this one to stick for awhile, if only because trying to understand CSS and HTML and how they've been used in the prebuilt Blogger templates required hours of trial and error. Elizabeth Castro's PUBLISHING A BLOG WITH BLOGGER: VISUAL QUICKPROJECT GUIDE was mostly helpful, but there's a drop-off point where you just have to dig through the code and figure it out.

In addition to the cosmetic change, I've added links to other sites. If I've overlooked you, chances are I forgot. The brilliantly named "Reviews" sidebar contains links to all of my reviews on this site. Previously I made a distinction between full reviews and capsule reviews. Since I had no idea if visitors scrolled all the way down, I decided that it was more user-friendly to combine the listings.

If you notice any problems or mistakes, please let me know. (Actually, I just found one. Ugh.) I'll also accept your unconditional praise too.

And for those of you who watched the World Cup, zut alors, what was Zidane thinking when he headbutted Marco Materazzi? Materazzi must have dropped an amazing insult to provoke that reaction. It was a great game, and although I was pulling for France, the Italian team is a worthy champion.

Happy 4th of July

Another Independence Day means it's time for me to drag myself to the Westerville Rotary's 5K Road Race. This year I've actually been training, not for the race in particular but with it in mind. I've been walking more than running--it's easier on the knees--but on Sunday I ran approximately six-tenths of a mile before stopping. That should be adequate for doing 5K, right?

Actually, it was. For me the weather was ideal, especially for early July. It was on the cool side with light rain coming down. For fear of getting my iPod wet and frying it, I had to scratch the plan to tote it along, but maybe it was for the best. I could pay attention to my steps and breathing. I finished in 39:10, which kept me at my usual place toward the bottom of the results (#255), but considering that it was easily the longest continuous run I've ripped off in a long time, I was very pleased with the result.


(Photo courtesy Columbus Running)

And yes, above you will find actual visual evidence of yours truly in the race. I'm in the red shorts, white shirt, and green HARDBALL hat. No, I wasn't trying to wear the colors of the Italian flag in support of them in the World Cup. (I wanted Germany to win.) And yes, this photo was taken near the start because I pretty much had the road to myself for most of the race.