To Be or Not to Be

I knew who Ernst Lubitsch, Carole Lombard, and Jack Benny were before I saw TO BE OR NOT TO BE. I knew that Lubitsch was a German Jew who fled to Hollywood during the rise of Hitler. I knew that Carole Lombard was a screen queen of the Golden Age. I knew that Jack Benny had a popular television show and made a running gag of his stinginess. I didn't know that Lubitsch had the talent to actually pull off a screwball comedy about the Warsaw Occupation. I didn't know that Lombard, in addition to being staggeringly beautiful, had perfect comic timing. And I didn't know that Jack Benny mixed detachment and warmth that kept me laughing both at and with him.

As previously mentioned, TO BE OR NOT TO BE labors under the burden of being set in the Nazy occupation of Warsaw. At the time of the film's release (1942), this was serious business, yet the full scope of the horrors of the occupation had yet to come to light. From our current vantage point, it's hard to associate the Warsaw Occupation with anything other than those horrors, but it's worth it to try and adopt the mindset of an America at war. At that time, it was common to paint our enemies as buffoons, and we were more than happy to engage with a troup of plucky resisters. Once we do adopt that mindset, we're in for a great time at the movies. Lubitsch takes jealousy, vanity, bravery, and fear; and he mixes them into high comedy combined with dramatic tension and a bit of cheerleading for the Allies.

He couldn't do it without Lombard, who comes off as smart, funny, and the greatest wearer of white silk dresses in Western history. She's the pivot about which the enterprise turns, and there isn't a moment she's onscreen that we don't invest in her. Benny's a great counterpart, a little older, a little vainer, and very jealous of his wife (as well he should be, with young Polish Air Force officer Robert Stack sniffing about), and the two play off one another with the aplomb of old pros.

So, while I admit that TO BE OR NOT TO BE made me a little uncomfortable at times (Col. Earhardt as a buffoon? That monster?), it stands as an excellent comedy and deserves its status as a classic of the screwball genre.

And now I know who these people really are.

Dave

While DAVE may, technically, be a romantic comedy in that it's romantic and everything turns out right in the end, it isn't particularly funny. It's, well, it's congenial and comfortable, like a golden retreiver that puts its head on your knee, looking for a scratch behind the ears.

DAVE stars the eminently likeable Kevin Kline as the titular character, a regular guy who doubles for the President on the fateful night when the Chief Executive goes down with a brain anyeurism. Before he really knows what's happening, he's been pressed into service as a stand-in President by marvelously evil Chief of Staff Frank Langella (in a career-resurrecting performance). Wouldn't you know it, Dave's a better president than the President. Add in some domestic conflict with an estranged first lady (Sigourney Weaver, excellent as usual), some fuzzy politics about full employment, and some wonderful character moments with Charles Grodin as a small-time accountant who advises his friend to "Get out of here as fast as you can," and you have a congenial, comfortable romantic comedy that's as warm as as pair of good slippers.

DAVE works for many reasons, not the least of which being the balance between Kline's charm and Langella's menace. Kline's one of the most likeable actors working today, and he uses that likeablility to make us buy speeches and moments that we'd reject from a lesser actor. Langella strikes just the right chord of menace for a romantic comedy - scary enough to create dramatic tension, yet not so evil as to blow the film's mood. It's great work, well directed by Ivan Reitman, and the whole thing is a pleasure to watch.

As far as romantic comedies go, it's a classic.

Hot Fuzz

HOT FUZZ is better than SHAUN OF THE DEAD. And I liked SHAUN OF THE DEAD.

SHAUN breaks down a bit in the third act, when it transitions from "zombie comedy" to "zombie horror." FUZZ, on the other hand, benefits from the action tradition it gently mocks - there's plenty of room for comedy in an action picture, and this film uses every square inch of it.

Here's the setup: Sergeant Nicholas Angel (Simon Pegg) is such a great London cop that he's superiors (Martin Freeman, Steve Coogan, and Bill Nighy) transfer him to a quiet little village in the country, where he won't make everyone else look so bad. Once he gets there, he finds that someone, presumably the creepily hale proprietor of the local supermarket (Timothy Dalton, finding the scenery delicious), is committing murder that would be most foul if it weren't in retribution for doing things like putting on laughably bad productions of "Romeo and Juliet." From there, as any action-movie aficionado can tell you, it's but a short step to massive explosions, the crackle of automatic gunfire, and a fugitive swan.

It's loads of fun, with wonderful comic turns from a cast that includes Cate Blanchett, Jim Broadbent, Paddy Considine, and even Peter Jackson. It features gags from broad to subtle, as well as surprising performances from Timothy Dalton and Paddy Considine, two actors I don't normally associate with comedy. HOT FUZZ kept me chuckling from beginning to end.

What a delightful film.

The Manchurian Candidate

THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE remake offers a twist on the paranoid thriller. It's a hippie paranoid thriller. Unfortunately, the hippie element so intrudes on the paranoid element that I had difficulty discerning whether the film wanted me to gnaw my fingernails, laugh out loud, or just peace out, man.

While the film hits many of the beats of the original, it also takes time to tap on pretty much every board of the Democratic Party's then-current platfom. From the Prescription Drug Benefit to Halliburton to G.W . Bush himself, THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE sets 'em and knocks 'em down, one after another, to such an extent that it actually becomes a distraction. I mean, c'mon, Al Franken as a nightly news reporter?

That's not to say that THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE doesn't have anything going for it. Jeffrey Wright is, as usual, phenomenal; Denzel Washington is, as usual, so good that we don't notice how good he is; and Liev Schrieber makes me wonder why the hell that Mr. Clark movie never happened. None of them, however, are a match for Meryl Streep. Not only does she blow every one of them off the screen, but I bet that when this thing was running in the multiplexes, she blew everyone in all the other movies off their screens, too. She's evil, she's creepy, she's smothering, and she is 31 different flavors of awesome.

While THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE is a bit slight and more than a bit hamhanded, it's worth watching for Streep's performance alone. And who knows? Maybe the hippies are right.

L'Eclisse

I hated L'ECLISSE.

The film begins in the drawing room of Monica Vitti and Francisco Rabal. They're exhausted, both emotionally and physically. She's leaving him, things could get ugly, but they never do. That would be too dramatic. Instead, they end up simply going their separate ways, and the film follows Vitti over the next several days.

Unfortunately, Vitti is neither particularly interesting nor particularly pleasant to look at. She feels disaffected, she walks here and there, she falls into an unengaging relationship with Alain Delon; none of which happen with much passion (I know a film romance is in trouble when a doorbell rings and I think, "Maybe somebody will come in and shoot them. That'd add some drama."). Finally, the film ends with something I interpreted as a big "f you" to the audience: minutes and minutes of dull, empty cityscape. No drama. No story. Just images. F you, Antonioni. If I want images, I'll go to an art museum. Tell me a story.

I do respect that Antonioni is trying to do something here. Mine is not ire at poor craftsmanship or lazy filmmaking. L'ECLISSE certainly does not aspire to the mediocrity of, say, THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE remake, which I'm having trouble mustering the energy to write about. My problem is that Antonioni disregards the first law of narrative film: engage and entertain your audience. L'ECLISSE is two hours of people I don't care about doing things I don't care about for reasons I don't care about. I'm glad it's over.

The Proposition

Ray Winstone. Guy Pearce. Danny Huston. John Hurt. That spooky Aborigine tracker from RABBIT-PROOF FENCE. These guys are serious guys in a serious movie, THE PROPOSITION, written by Nick Cave and directed by John Hillcoat with brutal pitilessness. Winstone's the law in an arid Outback town that may as well be called Tombstone, and he's out to capture or kill Huston. Others will die, some by intention and some by accident, but it matters not: Huston's the rabbit, Pearce is the hound, and the rest, well, perhaps they'll survive.

But then things change. I won't say how or why, but I will say that they do so in ways I did not expect. That's the trick of this film, and its unique allure, though I'm not sure if it's enough to recommend a viewing. THE PROPOSITION is difficult to watch not because it's brutal, but because it's brutal to people about whom we come to care. Further, it's slow, reflecting a time during which patience wasn't a virtue so much as a requirement. The two combine to create a sense of dread that, while powerful, is far from pleasant. One can imagine that this is how people lived, and this is how they made the decisions they made, and this is how they came to regret them.

So, THE PROPOSITION. It's a well-made film, but I did not enjoy viewing it. Your mileage may vary.

The Guardian

Here's a nugget of hard-won wisdom: never believe a wrestler who recommends a wrestling movie.

I learned this lesson in the '80s, when some friends on my high school's wrestling team told me that VISION QUEST was one of the greatest movies ever made. The lesson was reaffirmed as recently as the release of WE ARE MARSHALL, which some Marshall alumni friends declared was one of the greatest movies ever made.

So you've been forewarned. I'm a former Navy search and rescue (SAR) pilot who flew the helicopter flown in THE GUARDIAN. I'm now a C-130 pilot in the Navy Reserve, and THE GUARDIAN gives that mighty aircraft plenty of screen time. I once led my helo squadron's aircrew division, which was comprised of rescue swimmers (Motto: So Others May Live). I used to hold a Water Safety Instructor certificate, and one of my favorite classes to teach was advanced lifesaving. One of my helo squadron-mates transferred to the Coast Guard (Sitka Station) because he wanted to save lives. I have fond memories of standing outside my hangar, coffee cup in hand, looking up at the low, low clouds and commisserating with my buddies, "You flying today?" "Nope. I'm not flying today." Then, wop-wop-wop, there went the Coast Guard, flying out to sea to save another life. I love those guys.

That said, THE GUARDIAN is a deeply flawed movie. Its romantic subplot neither adds value to the story nor bothers to give us characters with a modicum of chemistry. For every great detail such as accurate squadron patches on the back of a pilot's flight jacket, it sports a knee-slapper such as a tough-guy Navy bar where Coasties can expect a fight (This just in: nobody hates Coasties. Hating Coasties is like hating paramedics.). Its denoument is so hamhanded and ill-considered that it's like a pop in the nose, and even the songs playing over the closing credits feel insultingly bad. Nevertheless, I really, really liked it. I liked the reasonably accurate (within the bounds of dramatic necessity) depiction of helicopter SAR operations. I liked the interactions between senior enlisted aircrew and the pilots who know and trust them. I liked the training sequences, which felt real, and I like Kevin Costner's Senior Chief character (Costner's been getting some rough breaks over the last few years, but this is another solid performance from the man.). Furthermore, the movie looks great. The cinematographer and special effects crew work together to create eye-popping, exciting environments, and they know how to give nighttime SAR operations the drama they deserve.

As a "movie guy," I'm here to tell you that THE GUARDIAN's flaws outweigh its positives, and that you should probably give it a wide berth. As a "SAR guy," I'm here to tell you that THE GUARDIAN is one of the greatest movies ever made, and that you should see it tomorrow. Let your wisdom be your guide.

Cops

My kid has been on a SpongeBob kick lately. I can take the cartoon in small doses, but I burn out after an episode or two. That's why I put my foot down the other night: "No SpongeBob. There's gotta be something better on the TiVo."

And there it was on the list, a Buster Keaton picture by the name of COPS which had aired on the station that has become the only reason I continue to pay for TV: TCM. COPS begins with a rejection: a wealthy young lady tells the hopeful Buster that she won't marry him until he makes it in business. Well, Keaton's no slouch. Before he knows it, he's the proud owner of a cart full of household goods that may or may not technically be his, but that's not really a problem until he, well, the title does imply that cops get involved, so I'm not giving away too much, am I?

This is a terrific chase movie, loaded with stunts both funny and dazzling. We rewound bits and pieces several times over, both for guffaws and wows, and the aforementioned kid chuckled, giggled, and outright laughed far more than I've ever seen him do while watching SpongeBob. Thanks, TCM, for providing a home for so many wonderful silents. You make my satellite subscription worth every penny.

Alphaville

I fired up ALPHAVILLE feeling neutral. I'm not a Godard fetishist, but neither do I repudiate the man. I was ready to take what this movie had to give and give it, in return, a fair shot. ALPHAVILLE began by puzzling me. Who was this supposed reporter from "LeMonde / Pravda"? Who were these people he was interested in? Why did some guy burst into his hotel room and try to kill him, and why did our supposed hero proceed to unwind by playing a little William Tell with his handgun and a hotel prostitute?

After a while, ALPHAVILLE went from puzzler to fascinator, as it rolled into a water ballet from Busby Berkeley's most depraved fantasies. In the process, it evoked the constant, all-pervasive fear that comes of living under a totalitarian regime and drew me into its world and its hero, one Ivan Johnson (or, as we would later come to call him, Lemmy Caution). As Lemmy came to understand Alphaville, its government, and its people, so I came to understand what was going on, who was targeting whom, and what the heck Anna Karina had to do with anything. As Lemmy took action, the scenario grew simpler still, 'til I was cheering him on and hoping he'd find both what he'd been sent for and what he needed.

I may have come into ALPHAVILLE feeling neutral, but I came out of it feeling energized and excited. Here's a movie that's willing to take risks with the conventions of filmed narrative, and here' s a movie that wraps its thoughtfulness in pulp and never takes its eye off the ball of any sound film's first priority: entertaining its audience.

ALPHAVILLE is a winner.

The Host

THEHOST violates the first rule of monster movies: it shows us the whole monster, in daylight, in the very first act. The film gets away with this infraction because the monster is a masterpiece of computer animation. The monster moves like a real creature might, it looks like a real creature might, and its integrated so well into the live-action shots that we never stop to think, "Eh, it's just a bunch of pixels."

Here's the setup: the Han River is horrbily polluted, presumably thanks to the uncaring U.S. Army and its Korean lackeys. Eventually, something mutates; something big, with three mouths, several tails, and a whole lot of appetite. This something eats some people on the spot. Others, it captures for later dining. Will a family from the fringe of Korean society, a family barely keeping it together themselves, be able to work as a team and effect the rescue of little Hyun-seo, daughter of the most wayward of the family's three siblings? Oh, yeah? How about if the Korean and U.S. armies are looking for
them? Oh, yeah? How about if Korean Society has been informed that family hosts the virus that led to the evolution of the creature? How about if everybody -and I mean everybody- is trying to capture them before they can infect the world? Oh, yeah? How about if the creature has stored the girl in its inescapable lair within the sewers of Seoul? Well, the little girl's aunt is an archery champion, even if the aunt does have a tendency to choke at the critical moment. And the family is really, really dedicated ...

This is a setup for a terrific monster movie. It has a creatively imagined beast, sympathetic characters, a resonant theme, and some wonderful images. For some reason (and I can't quite figure out what that reason is ... give me a break, I'm an amateur), however, it didn't resonate with me. I never fully engaged with little Hyun-seo's wayward father and his quest to rescue his daugher. I knew how the movie was going to be resolved before the monster even appeared. I think the Koreans sometimes like to have it both ways, vilifying the American presence while never quite working up the courage to ask us
to leave.

I dunno, maybe I was just having a bad day when I sat down to watch this one. Everyone else seems to have loved it, and I admired much about it, but it just didn't hook me. That said, if the film's description captured your attention, you may want to give this one a shot. After all, your mileage may vary.

Yi Yi

I found YI YI to be excrutiatingly depressing. It ruined not one, but two days; bringing me into work sad, lonely, and full of heartache. I suppose that a film that makes that kind of emotional impact could be construed as "good," but who wants to go through that kind of a wringer?

That's not to imply that sadness, loneliness, and heartache can't make for an excellent filmgoing experience, but they demand something -anything- to leaven the dough. Beauty, perhaps. Unfortunately, the print of YI YI from which they struck the Netflix disk is so muddy, it's like watching a film projected on the bottom of a lake. That leaves us with the aforementioned pain, and that makes for a rough time at the movies.

Edward Yang, YI YI's creator, sets this family drama in urban Taipei, and he paints it as a city both familiar and wholly inhospitable. It's familiar in that it has the same restaurants, traffic patterns, and development you'd see anywhere. It's inhospitable because the homes lack soul, the restaurants distinction, the life ordinary. In that city, he places a family in crisis: the father's facing the failure of his business, the untrustworthiness of his partners, and the temptation to remake a choice he's always regretted; the mother's undergoing an existential crisis; the grandmother's in a coma in her bedroom; the daughter is learning about love the hard way; and the son, both genius and victim, is trying to learn how to hope in a cruel world. And that's just the nuclear family at the heart of the story - don't get me started on the relatives.

There's a lot here, and I admire the film's complexity and its willingness to tackle relationships in a serious, adult manner. Nevertheless, I can't help but compare it to THE BEST OF YOUTH, an Italian movie that looks at some of the same themes and also does it in a serious, adult manner. THE BEST OF YOUTH, however, has beauty, and a touch of joy, and that makes the medicine go down. YI YI just wants to make us grin and bear it. No, thanks. I can do that in real life.

Flushed Away

Poor Hugh Jackman. The guy's trying to be a movie star: he really is. He made a romantic comedy with Meg Ryan, an action movie with Stephen Sommers, even a prestige picture with Christopher Nolan. What does he have to show for it? More flops than a skid row hotel. FLUSHED AWAY, with Jackman voicing the lead, was another in the long list of studio loss-makers. Check off "kid's film," Hugh. Perhaps you'll have better luck in a zombie movie.

FLUSHED AWAY looks like a successful kid's movie. It's structured like one, with all the beats, gags, and character moments we'd expect, and it's a perfectly fine entry in the genre. It's lacking something, however - that heart, that hook, that special something that makes it the kind of picture you don't mind seeing again and again. Here's the setup: Roddy (our hapless Hugh) lives the sweet life in Kensington, which, I infer, is a posh London borough. He's a housepet, and a happy one, until circumstance conspires against him and he's literally flushed away into the London sewers. There, he discovers Rat Culture, finds a place in it, and even defeats the evil Mr. Toad (whose toadies include Le Frog, whose henchmen respond to the command, "Fight like Frenchmen!" by raising their hands in surrender).

The movie's visually rich, it has gags galore, it features character design in the beloved Aardman style, and it feels like the kind of thing that went through committee after committee until every cog in a soulles creative machine was happy with the output, right down to the musical number that closed things out. There's no "there" there and, compared with a masterpiece like RATATOUILLE, FLUSHED AWAY is merely a trifle, something to sedate the kids while you mow the lawn.

Better luck next time, Hugh. And really, think about that zombie movie. It might finally put you over the top.

Memento

I liked MEMENTO the first time I saw it. It had an interesting structure and a different take on storytelling: instead of describing a change in a protagonist, it creates a change in our perception of a protagonist. I suspected that it might not hold up well on further viewings, so I never bothered to revisit it. Until last night, that is.

MEMENTO came free with my new BluRay player / videogame console, I couldn't sleep, and there it was, calling to me. "See it again, but this time be able to count the pores on Leonard's nose!" Unfortunately, however, I was right - MEMENTO does not hold up well on further viewings. It's a one-trick story, and once you've seen it (assuming you remember it), there's little to be gained by seeing it again. It offers no new insights into the human condition and it isn't aesthetically beautiful.

Ah, well. At least now, I have a ready-made gift for my next friend who buys a BluRay player.

Zodiac

ZODIAC is a terrific film, once you get past the fact that it isn't about Zodiac.

Director David Fincher (Seven, Fight Club, Panic Room) gives the movie a completely absorbing feel, beginning with '60s -era Paramount and Warner Brothers production logos. He casts it with a veritable all-star roster of character actors (Brian Cox, Elias Koteas, Phillip Baker Hall - hey, where's Jim Beaver?) and stars with the hearts of character actors (Jake Gyllenhall, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey, Jr.). He shocks us early with the violence of the Zodiac murders, and then pulls back into one of the most interesting takes on the procedural I've ever seen.

I walked into this movie thinking it would be, essentially, Jake Gyllenhaal and the Quest for the Zodiac. Fincher fools us into
believing that would be the case; but he takes long detours into the life of Inspector David Toschi (Ruffalo), a then-famous member of the SFPD who served as the models for both Bullitt and Dirty Harry; and shorter ones into the life of Paul Avery (Downey, turning in another in a long list of memorable performances). Gyllenhall's the obsessive, the guy who's fascinated by the Zodiac killings and just can't let it go, at the expense of his relationship with his wife and children. Toschi's the professional, the guy who does this for a living and, for all his notoriety, comes across as the most balanced individual in the entire enterprise. Downey, well, he's a shipwreck waiting for a shoal, and Zodiac provides that shoal as he lets his own
fascination with the case drag him down.

Most procedurals are about the details of hunting down a given criminal, normally culminating in a car chase or a shootout. This procedural is about those same details, but it's also about the nature of obsession. The main characters deal with it in different ways, and the film itself does a wonderful job letting us dip a vicarious toe into that whirlpool, ourselves. It works - by the third act, I was so thoroughly hooked that I lost track of my surroundings and nearly missed my Metro stop.

After seeing a string of kids' movies and foreign pictures, I was ready for a modern American drama. ZODIAC delivered.

Wedding Crashers

WEDDING CRASHERS has its moments, but it's ultimately unsuccessful for two reasons: the comedy runs out in the third act and the villain is just too evil.

We've all been to comedies in which story overtakes the humour in the last act, so I won't belabor the point. I'm more interested in the concept of the comedy villain and how WEDDING CRASHERS goes wrong in this regard.

WC's villain is one Sack Lodge, played by Bradley Cooper. Lodge is evil and vicious. Not funny, not idiosyncratic, not an otherwise interesting Baxter. He's just plain evil and vicious. Evil and vicious is not funny. Consequently, the character is a comedy black hole whenever he appears on screen. Not only does he not radiate funny, he sucks the funny out of all surrounding scenes.

In contrast, consider Ben Stiller's White Goodman in DODGEBALL. Goodman's the villain, but he's ridiculous enough to be nonthreatening and, consequently, funny. In Dodgeball, the Goodman character's just villainous enough, just over the top enough, to both keep the story moving and keep the laughter flowing. I with WC's producers had brought Rawson Thurber, DODGEBALL's writer, aboard for a scrub before this production began. He would've known what to do with his villain. He could've taken WEDDING CRASHERS from merely ok to very good.

Unfortunately, they didn't and WEDDING CRASHERS is the worse for it. Too bad.

Broken Flowers

The blog has been relatively quiet lately; sorry for that. With a famly vacation and various summertime activities, it's been hard to break off the time to write up my impressions of the movies I've seen.

That said, something's better than nothing, so here's a quick jot about Jim Jarmusch's BROKEN FLOWERS:

I'd like to take a moment to celebrate one sequence from the movie.

When Murray visits old flame Sharon Stone, he finds himself in the middle of a Nabokov novel. Thing is, he realizes it; but neither Stone nor her eminently available daughter (aptly named Lolita) are in on the joke. Murray's deadpan delivery acts as the perfect counterpoint to the ridiculousness of his situation, and the whole affair is entirely successful.

Much like the rest of the film.

SpongeBob Square Pants: The Movie

So, here's the thing about SPONGEBOB SQUARE PANTS: THE MOVIE: it's not as bad as you think.

The picture begins with a pirate ship at sea. They spot a floating seachest, open it, and are delighted to find tickets to the SpongeBob movie. They break into a terrific chanty-style rendition of the SpongeBob theme song, and before you know it we're in Bikini Bottom, home of the titular sponge.

The story itself is your basic quest tale, with fun turns by guest voice actors such as Jeffrey Tambor, Alec Baldwin, and Scarlett Johansson. It's pleasantly diverting stuff, but there's something about it that both sells this movie and takes it completely over the top. SpongeBob has unmasked the villain, but the forces of evil are closing in on him anyway. Suddenly, apropos of nothing, he breaks into a rock tune (written and performed by Twisted Sister's Dee Snider), a guitar materializes in his hands, and before you know it, he's freeing the city by shooting laser beams out of aforementioned guitar while simultaneously rocking the house. This is bona fide silly fun, and I loved its audacity of concept and cleanliness of execution, right down to the sampling of David Lee Roth's scat from "Just a Gigolo."

I don't know if I'd call this a pleasant surprise: I expected it to be odious and it turned out to be only ok. Nevertheless, I'll chock this one up in the "win" column. Omilybooblyzeeblybop!

The Simpsons Movie

THE SIMPSONS MOVIE begins with the Simpsons in a theater, watching "The Itchy and Scratchy Movie."  During the movie, Homer stands and shouts, "This sucks!  Why should we pay money to watch something we can see at home for free?"

Truth be told, I can think of only one good reason: you're on vacation, it's raining, and you need to get out of your hotel room.

Coincidentally enough, I'm on vacation with my family in Northern Michigan, it was raining the other day, and we needed to get out of our hotel room. So there we sat, enjoying a dazzling digital projection of THE SIMPSONS MOVIE and having a pretty good time. THE SIMPSONS MOVIE is a slightly raunchier-than-usual longform episode of "The Simpsons," which is either the highest of praise or most neutral of statements, depending on how much you like "The Simpsons." I like it just fine, and I chuckled throughout the running time of the film. THE SIMPSONS MOVIE never quite took me over into belly laugh territory but, if it's raining and I'm just looking to get out, I'll happily settle for a steady stream of chuckles.

I'll happily view it again when it comes on TV and I can watch it at home for free.

Duel

I'd been meaning to see DUEL pretty much forever. I knew it was
Spielberg's first picture, and that was enough to get me to queue it
up. Had I known that Richard Matheson had written it, however, I'd've
queued it up much sooner than now. Matheson, of course, wrote some of
the best episodes of The Twilight Zone. How could I have missed his
involvement in DUEL?

DUEL plays like a long-form Twilight Zone episode. A man is cast into
a stressful and eerie situation and the drama goes from there. It's
successful, in that it takes a premise that makes one think, "How are
they going to spin this out for an hour and a half" and manages to
work that premise to great effect. Dennis Weaver, as the hapless
everyman, does fine work, and the movie grabbed me from the opening
shots.

DUEL is a winner.

Godzilla and Other Movie Monsters

GODZILLA AND OTHER MOVIE MONSTERS, which purports to be a documentary about, well, Godzilla and other movie monsters, is basically a clip show. The film keeps the clips coming fast enough to avoid copyright entanglements while giving a brief overview of giant monsters in film, an overview spanning THE NIEBELUNGENLIED to JURASSIC PARK. It should
be dreadfully dull, but wry narration and a droll sense of humor keep the project afloat for nearly two hours of running time.

This one won't rank among my favorites, but it's a reasonably entertaining way to spend a couple of hours.

Grizzly Man

I'm trying to decide whether GRIZZLY MAN is a very good movie or a downright brilliant one.

The photography alone is very good; Herzog's calling our attention to the photography is brilliant. The insights into Timothy Treadwell are very good; Herzog's editing of Treadwell's soliloquoys is brilliant. The film's balancing on the thin line between fascination and morbid voyeurism is very good; Herzog's occasional steps across the line are brilliant.

GRIZZLY MAN is a collaboration between Herzog and a dead man, a dead man who left hundreds of hours of (mostly self-shot) footage behind. Timothy Treadwell, Herzog's collaborator and the titular Grizzly Man, is disturbed, sympathetic, angry, profoundly innocent, and absolutely in love with Nature. Treadwell's the kind of guy who would've loved MARCH OF THE PENGUINS. He anthropomorphizes bears, foxes, even Alaska, seeming to believe that if he just loves them enough, they'll love him back. But bears are bears and nature doesn't love him back. It's a lesson Herzog understands but Treadwell may never have learned.

GRIZZLY MAN'S power comes from the juxtaposition of Treadwell's innocence, Herzog's wisdom, and the stupendous beauty of Alaska and the grizzlies Treadwell was foolish enough to try to befriend. Because Treadwell was a fool, he shot footage of these bears unlike anything I've ever seen. He got right up next to them. He talked to them, scolded them, even swam with them. He seemed to make something of a pet of a local fox. He lived his dream, right up until he (and his apprehensive girlfriend) died in a grizzly's hungry maw. Amazingly, Treadwell's camera was running (lens cap on) at the time of his death, and Herzog shot some oblique footage of himself listening to the couple's final minutes. In the end, Herzog doesn't share those minutes with us. Instead, he advises the keeper of the tape to destroy it, as it's simply to horrible to own. It's better to remember Treadwell as he was: innocent, foolish, and enveloped in beauty.

And it's that beauty I'll remember long after I've forgotten Treadwell's name. Thank you for a brilliant movie, gentlemen.

Man With The Movie Camera

Dziga Vertov's MAN WITH THE MOVIE CAMERA (1929) begins with a declaration that reads: The film Man with a Movie Camera represents an experimentation in the cinematic transmission of visual phenomena without the use of intertitles, without the help of a script, and without the help of a theater. This new experimentation work by Kino-Eye is directed towards the creation of an authentically international absolute language of cinema – ABSOLUTE KINOGRAPHY – on the basis of its complete separation from the language of theatre and literature." 'Great,' I thought. 'Here comes an hour of self-important, Marxist twaddle.' Only MAN WITH THE MOVIE CAMERA isn't an hour of self-important, Marxist twaddle. It's an energetic experiment with filmmaking, full of vigor and delight in the tools and techniques of the form.

MAN WITH THE MOVIE CAMERA chronicles 24 hours in an agglomeration of Ukrainian cities. "Chronicles" may not be the correct term, however. "Riffs on" may be more accurate. This film loves to play with multiple exposures, creative editing, and the mounting kinetic energy of quick cut after quick cut to give us a portrait of life, perhaps as lived and perhaps as dreamed, in the Soviet Union of its day. It's moved along by a delightful and wholly original score, performed by the Alloy Orchestra from Vertov's notes, that both speaks to the action onscreen and manages to remain intrinsically fascinating. This is a just a neat, entertaining glimpse into a different time and place. I was sorry when it ended.

Army of Shadows

Jean-Pierre Melville's ARMY OF SHADOWS is a brilliant, brilliant movie.

Released to failure in 1969, when it films about the French Resistance were decidedly not à la mode, ARMY OF SHADOWS now enjoys the full Criterion treatment, with a magnificently restored picture and crystal-clear sound. It's a tense, exciting, moving picture, and it captured my imagination from the first frame to the last.

The film begins at the Arc de Triomphe. It's just after dawn, and the street is quiet. Soon, we hear the sound of marching, then the music of a band. What kind of Frenchman gets up before sunrise to march in a band? No kind - only the Hun would do something as crazy as that. And then we realize that this is a Nazi band, the occupation is on, and things can't be good. From there, we meet Philippe Gerbier (Lino Ventura) a nondescript engineer who's being checked into a Vichy prison camp. He's just another middle-class guy, nothing special, but he becomes one of the hearts of this film, a character whose matter-of-fact, world-weary heroism packs more punch than that of a thousand action heroes.

It's important that we buy into this guy, because he's going to take us to some dark, dark places. ARMY OF SHADOWS is not a movie about romantically heroic Frenchmen clearing the way to victory, but fatalistic operators who kill with implacable horror and struggle to die with something approaching dignity. Moreso, it's about people living with the hovering spectre of betrayal, torture, and death, and ARMY OF SHADOWS winds us tightly in the tension of that existence and never lets us go. This is a film whose big action set-piece is basically three stonefaced people sitting in or standing around a truck, and it's a setpiece that had me on edge from beginning to end.

While this movie works strictly as a spy thriller, it's also a brilliant exploration of both leadership and human perception. Leadership, because its leaders aren't made of ribbons and external authority - they're made of quickness of wit, intensity of purpose, and ability to execute. It's fascinating to see how their power relationships develop, and how much their followers rely on them for their very lives. Perception, because it carefully explores how the human mind frames and parses reality, particularly in a scene I'll refer to as "The firing range," in which we see a character's recollection of the action as filtered through his perceptions at the moment of remembrance.

The more I think about this movie, the more I like it. ARMY OF SHADOWS is a must-see.

The Hot Chick

I'm wrestling with an ethical conundrum. Is it ok to post comments on a film you haven't seen all the way through?

After suffering through the first fifteen minutes of THE HOT CHICK, I came to believe that Adam Sandler, Rob Schneider, and even the fine-in-THE NOTEBOOK Rachel McAdams not only personally hated me, but were actively seeking to destroy my family. I remember sitting in my basement, stunned, not sure whether to be more horrified by what I was seeing on the screen or the fact that my wife and older son were both laughing out loud. For the first time in my married life, the open road beckoned ...

So I went upstairs and did the dishes. What, I'm going to run away in a Ford station wagon?

But I don't know if this counts as an actual contribution. Maybe the movie gets better. Maybe it eclipses DUCK SOUP in inspired comedy. Maybe watching it all the way through is like reaching out one's hand and touching the face of God.

But I doubt it.

THE HOT CHICK opens with prologue whose production values make the BABYLON 5 pilot look like THE SOPRANOS. Then it takes us to the present, Rachel McAdams, and an act of cruelty so vicious that it provoked burning hatred in my heart. That's right - burning hatred for Rachel McAdams, in a comedy! And yet there was my wife, laughing right along at her later antics, blithely delighting in the petty cruelty of McAdams and her posse. Before you know it, we're suffering through Adam Sandler putting in a cameo in which his greatest contribution is to recycle an old SNL bit that wasn't funny the first several times. So much entertainment, and Rob Schneider, the supposed star (who didn't even bother to shower for the benefit of the crew), hasn't even shown up yet!

When he does show up, wait'll you see him drink a Slurpee straight from the dispenser! It's comedy gold! I'll tell you, when my boy laughed, it felt like a betrayal. "I've shown you YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN! We've laughed together over STEAMBOAT BILL, JR.! Now this? Who are you and what have you done with my son?"

Oh, no, now I'm beginning to hammer away at the keyboard. I may not be able to get my mind back on my work. Not only has THE HOT CHICK already threatened the fabric of my family, now it's trying to ruin my job. This movie is evil, I tell you. Evil!

Big Deal on Madonna Street

"Big Deal on Madonna Street" is a heist movie with a twist: our thieves are a gang of loveable but hopeless incompetents who couldn't steal a handbag from an old lady. It's supposed to be funny, and it does elicit a chuckle here and there, but it's never quite as funny as it wants to be. Ah, well.

Rabbit-Proof Fence

I tend to look askance at "issue moves." They have this way of putting the issue before the movie, seeking more to educate than entertain. This isn't to imply that movies shouldn't educate - rather, it's a reaction against the hamhandedness that normally accompanies such education.

Thus did I approach RABBIT-PROOF FENCE, a film that's about either the Australian government's earlier policy of reeducating part-Aboriginies and separating them from their heritage or three Aboriginal girls on an awesome journey of escape and endurance.

The film begins as the former, with Kenneth Branagh the genuine but cruelly wrong government official in charge of the relocation and reeducation program. "If only these people knew what we were trying to do for them," he laments. It's hamhanded and, in a separation scene, overtly manipulative to the point of agitprop.

Once it becomes the latter, however, it turns into a better, more effective film. The three girls are heartbreakingly tough and vulnerable, the villains generally well nuanced, and the whole thing thoroughly gripping entertainment.

Ultimately, I think RABBIT-PROOF FENCE is just ok. With a little less agitprop and a little more adventure, the film could have both entertained and scored its points much more effectively.

Shadow of a Doubt

Uncle Charlie's coming for a visit. He's been away for a while, engaged in "business," and now here he is, flush with cash. Charlie's happy to see her namesake uncle, whom she adores in ways both appropriate and inappropriate. Things are about to go very wrong.

And there's the setup for a thriller that's disturbing, engaging, and, yes, thrilling. Joseph Cotton plays Uncle Charlie as a classic sociopath: charismatic, evil, and utterly remorseless. Teresa Wright, as the younger Charlie, does a wonderful job of showing the scales falling from her character's eyes. The film itself winds us tighter and tighter, and the last fifteen minutes had me thoroughly on edge.

Simply put, I enjoyed every frame of SHADOW OF A DOUBT. What a delight.

PS There's a scene in the movie in which Cotton takes Wright to a seedy bar to tell her what's what. As I watched this movie on the Metro last night, someone sat behind me at that very moment. My fellow passenger smelled just like that bar: before I knew it, I was enveloped in the smells of cigarette smoke and alcohol. Talk about an immersive viewing experience!

Cinderella Man

I enjoyed CINDERELLA MAN. Though I'm now comfortably ensconsed in the upper middle class, I grew up poor. Consequently, I have this constant sense that the wolf is always at the door, that my fortunes could shift in an instant and before I'll know it it'll be all I can do just to feed my family. CINDERELLA MAN's first act was all my fears played out before me, and I couldn't help but empathize with the Braddocks' plight.

Once I bought Braddock, it was easy to buy the rest of the movie, a process aided by the film's excellent photography and production values. I rooted for these people, I booed the delightful Craig Bierko, and I lost track of time for a solid two and a half hours. Consider me a satisfied customer.

Tokyo Story

The more I think about TOKYO STORY, the more I like it.

It's a simple story. Grandma & Grandpa leave their provincial home and come to Tokyo to visit the kids. The kids are busy, and the visit does not go well.

Some audiences may find the movie difficult to approach because it's very Japanese. Its characters do not boradcast their every emotion. They don't yell. They don't burst into song. They don't weep majestically. They smile, and bow, and hurt. In other words, they do the kinds of things that people do all over the world, bu they do it within the bounds of their cultural paradigm. Audiences who are willing to attune themselves to that paradigm will discover a movie that's uncomfortably close to home, that speaks to the ways marriages work and the ways generations deal with one another. They'll discover a movie that speaks to the creeping sense of discontent we sometimes feel creeping up on us, and they'll discover a movie that addresses all of these themes in a thoughtful, compassionate, and adult manner.

TOKYO STORY is a serious movie, well made and performed, that earns its place in our imaginations. It is time well spent.

Return of the Jedi

RETURN OF THE JEDI is the film where the wheels came right off the Star Wars franchise’s cart.

It begins promisingly enough, with an all-grown-up Luke ready to wield the lightsaber in defense of his friends and general goodness. But before you know it, we’re back in another Death Star attack, somebody shrunk the Wookies, and after all this time we find out that Darth Vader is just another old fat guy. This movie has absolutely nothing going for it in terms of character or plot, and the only response it can wring from us is a sense of discomfort over Luke & Leia’s earlier flirtatiousness.

My boy’s going through a huge Star Wars phase right now, but I can’t go there with him. I love, love, love the first Star Wars movie, conveniently entitled STAR WARS: it’s everything an adventure film should be. Nothing else, unfortunately, comes close.

The Keys to the House

THE KEYS TO THE HOUSE wants to be, tries to be, a moving little drama about a journey to manhood and father - son bonding. It begins well, with an intriguing premise (haunted runaway dad reclaims custody after 14 years) and likeable actors, but the journey to manhood isn’t particularly compelling and the father-son bonding is pretty much complete only 2/3 of the way through the movie.

This is a drab film, drearily shot, with nothing to engage the eye while the mind wanders. The actors do their jobs well enough, but they’re hampered by a directorial affection for long, motionless silences – there’s a reason why they’re called motion pictures, buddy. If you’re going to have people just stand or sit there, you’d better have good reason and you’d better not do it often.

In a recent CHUD interview, Paul Greengrass compared a major American studio picture to an orchestral symphony. THE KEYS TO THE HOUSE, a small Italian production, tries to be a charming little chamber piece, but it plays a dull tune on drab instruments. Ignore the palms on the DVD cover and give this one a pass.

Black Snake Moan

BLACK SNAKE MOAN didn't get much traction in theaters, though it garnered positive reviews. I can probably sum up the reasons why in my wife's response to the film when she saw the disc arrive in the mail: "Isn't that the one where Samuel L. Jackson chains the girl from THE ADDAMS FAMILY to a radiator? I'll pass."

Well, yeah, Samuel L. Jackson does chain the girl from THE ADDAMS FAMILY to a radiator, but the movie isn't about hot "old black man / chained white chick" action (though I'm sure there are many web sites that are). It's about finding out who you are, whether you've forgotten or simply never knew. It's about dignity, and it's about a particular slice of Southern culture that's as alien to me as a Mongolian yurt, yet feels familiar and comforting.

Here's the deal: Sam Jackson is a farmer and blues musician who has the blues so bad, he can't even play the blues. He leads a blues kind of life: he looks like a bluesman, with his little pot belly and fringe of white hair; but it's been so long since he's picked up a guitar that he can barely remember what it feels like. Sam lives outside a small Delta town, and in that town lives Christina Ricci, the town whore. Not hooker, mind you - she's free. But she has no impulse control, and when things go wrong and she winds up bleeding and unconscious on the side of a country road, Sam finds her. And then he, well ... but it seems like a good idea at the time!

Now no one can deny that that's a great, pulpy core for a story. But that's not what makes the movie. What makes the movie are the sense of time and place it creates, a South both real and archetypical, a South that's far more interesting than the one I lived in for 15 painful months (Ask me about the restaurant that really did have a menu that said, "Breakfast / Lunch / Dinner."). The wonderful, bluesy score takes some credit for that, as does the perfect set and costume design. Samuel L. Jackson certainly deserves his share of the credit, reminding us that, yes, this guy is one fine actor when he brings his A game. And Christina Ricci delivers a brave, demanding performance that changes her status from "girl from THE ADDAMS FAMILY" to "amazing actress from BLACK SNAKE MOAN."

Director Craig Brewer's previous film was HUSTLE AND FLOW, which was brilliant. With this followup effort, he proves that he's not a one-shot wonder. He's a unique and assured voice of the South, and I look forward to hearing what he has to say next.

Bob le Flambeur

I found BOB LE FLAMBEUR thoroughly captivating. It's held together by the titular Bob (Roger Duchesne), a guy who reminded me Burt Lancaster right up to the moment when he dons a tuxedo, at which point he reminded me of George Clooney. Bob's a high-roller, which is another way of saying he's a gambling addict, and you know what always happens to gambling addicts: they lose. Once, long ago, he'd been part of a heist (presumably to cover his debts) gone wrong, but saved the life of a police officer during the arrest. Now he's done his time and he's generally a good guy, but he loves chance so much that he has a slot machine in his closet. And, of course, you know what always happens to gambling addicts.

BOB is a film that deals in shades of morality and people who choose just which shade they'll be. It deals with nobility and weariness, and it offers one of the best heist setups I've ever seen. Jean-Pierre Melville shoots it with just the right combination of glitz and grime, and I believed everyone and everything I saw on the screen before me. What a treat.

The Empire Strikes Back

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK is a perfectly fine movie, but I have one major problem with it: it isn’t really a movie. It’s two-thirds of a movie, with a great buildup to a third act that never actually happens.

I know, I know, EMPIRE existed to serve up RETURN OF THE JEDI, but I don’t care. Films should exist on their own, as self-contained entities, even if those entities exist as part of a larger whole. Even if we know another film is coming, we should walk out of the theater satisfied with the narrative experience. EMPIRE forces us to do without that satisfaction, however, leaving us with a cliffhanger that leaves so much unresolved that we feel we wasted our time in watching it.

Some people feel that EMPIRE is best of all the Star Wars films. These are the kind of people who think that all buildup with no payoff is a good thing. As for me, give me my climax and send me home happy.

Take Me Out to The Ball Game

Busby Berkeley's TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME, starring Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra, and Esther Williams, is utterly, atrociously, horribly bad.

Kelly, Sinatra, Williams, and the supporting cast don't act - they merely mark time between uninspired musical numbers. The story, your basic love triangle, isn't interesting because there's no real sense that any of these people even like one another. The comedy falls flat, Kelly's dancing is tied down by his costars, and not even the pool number can do much more than put a check in a box.

Here's the setup: Kelly and Sinatra are, basically, Ruth and Gherig, a couple of ballplayers on the vaudeville circuit between seasons. Gher-, er, Sinatra is all smiles and enthusiasm, while Kelly's all about the money and has fallen out of love with baseball. When these guys finally show up to spring training, there's bad news: the team's owner has died, leaving it to his stripper wife, who ... oh, wait, that's from a better movie. This movie's bad news is that the owner had died and left the team to his niece, a woman who, dontcha know it, has a talent for and knowledge of baseball. You can fill in the rest of the dots from here, but why bother? It's the middle of summer - why not just go to a ball game, instead?

When Comedy Was King

WHEN COMEDY WAS KING is a clip show of silent – era comedies that defeats its own purpose.

Look, there’s no debating that cinema produced a great deal of comedy gold in its early years, and there are very few ways you can go wrong in stringing together a bunch of good bits and putting them out there for public consumption. WCWK, however, does find one sure way to get things wrong: the thing is narrated with condescension and spite by some guy who sounds like a kindly uncle who nurtures a quiet hatred for the world and everything in it. “Where has the laughter gone?” he asks. Hey, jackass – go to the movies, there’s plenty of laughter to go around. Now I know that this, too is an old movie, but hey, there was plenty of laughter to go around when WHEN COMEDY WAS KING was first released, as well.

The movie does a service in splicing together all those clips, however. If you want to introduce yourself or your family to this great genre, you could do worse than fire it up. Just do so with the sound off. Your own laughter is all the commentary these clips need.

Spaceballs

SPACEBALLS, as seen from the perspective of my 7-year-old boy:

Ha. "Pizza the Hutt." That's funny.

Darth Vader is silly.

Ewww, kissing. Gross!

What, a giant vacuum cleaner transformer? This is like the worst STAR WARS movie ever!

Let's send it back. Right away.

Now, SPACEBALLS, as seen from my perspective:

SPACEBALLS is a failure. It fails to generate laughs, insight, or even a hummable theme song. It's as if the whole thing were done on autopilot for the express purpose of making a quick buck, and it couldn't even do that. It's a wonder Bill Pullman's career survived this debacle. Avoid it all costs.

Presumed Innocent

Here's another one from Joe McDonald:

If there was ever a movie that dealt with the compromising of integrity in as many shades of grey as "Presumed Innocent" does, then I would like to know: ****.

"PI" is the story of district attorney Rusty Sabich (Harrison Ford) whose former mistress, Carolyn Polhemus (Greta Scacchi), is a gorgeous co-worker who is murdered. To say the plot thickens when we discover that she has also had an affair with Ford's supervisor (Brian Dennehy), who assigns Ford to her murder case, is to only begin to unravel the Pandora's box that Polhemus' death creates. Sabich is still whipped on her and his wife sees that, he is less than enthusiastic to assume responsibility for this case which his boss thrust on him, and then lo and behold, he becomes the prime suspect. To boot, we have missing evidence, the presiding judge's connection to Polhemus, and the prosecuting attorneys unseemly connection to Sabich's office.

The situation is a complete mess, and yet the script is written with an airtight clarity that makes us care about our flawed protagonist and understand the layers of agendas that permeate this movie. This is one of Ford's most underappreciated performances. He is spellbound by a seductive, enticing woman with an agenda, but he he is a man of principle as well. We see the exact moment when his principles lose her attraction, and his erotic fix is lost forever. He is a lost puppy, thereafter.

If Scacchi, on the other hand, could mass produce, bottle and market her sexuality, she could retire after six months. She is sumptuous, power hungry, tragic, and maybe just a tad bit kind-hearted. Wow. And finally, I am so sorry to see Raul Julia and his magnetic performance as Sabich's defense attorney. This was one of his most memorable roles before he died in 1994. He is the straw that stirs the drink once he is hired: measured, well studied, sympathetic, never expends more energy than needed, but strikes hard and effectively when the iron is hot.

This is one of the best courtroom drama I have even seen. And the ending turned me upside down; once I thought it ended, it resurrected itself for just a little longer. Sad, tragic, brilliant.

Blades of Glory

The Will Ferrell figure skating comedy BLADES OF GLORY, which could just have easily been entitled WILL FERRELL FIGURE SKATING COMEDY is intermittently funny, but it’s the kind of movie whose comedy comes from its situations, not its characters. That’s because the movie has no real characters, but rather characatures. There’s Ferrell as, essentially, Elvis Stojko and John Heder as Brian Boitano. When the two are banned from Men’s Singles competition, they do what Brian Boitano would do: they man up and start skating doubles.

That’s pretty much your movie, and it’s intermittently entertaining as long as you’re willing to go along with its central premise: that figure skating is ridiculous and that male figure skaters are pussies. That premise, and the gags BLADES OF GLORY milks from it, is pretty much all the movie has to offer. This would spell disaster if they’d cast anyone other than Ferrell at his schticky best, Heder in full mincing ninny mode, and (married) comic geniuses Will “Final Countdown” Arnett and Amy Poehler as their hilariously evil foils. (Aside: I’d never accept an invitation to the Arnett/Poehler house for dinner. I don’t think I could get out of there without peeing my pants with laughter.) This cast takes a paper-thin (and potentially offensive) premise and characters with less depth than an 8-yr-old’s poetry and, amazingly, makes them work. BLADES OF GLORY didn’t make me out-and-out guffaw, but it did keep me chuckling. That’s good enough for an in-flight movie, and that’s all I needed when I saw it.

Breach

BREACH, based on the true story of the Robert Hanssen Treason Investigation, features Ryan Philippe as the young FBI agent assigned to Hanssen’s staff for the sole purpose of investigating him. He’s an interesting enough fellow, but Chris Cooper, as Hanssen, blows him and everyone else off the screen every moment he’s up there.

The story itself, of the biggest spy investigation in FBI history, makes for an interesting tale. Add a sense of verisimilitude gained by using many actual DC-area locations and paying attention to geography (When Hanssen, stuck in traffic, grouses that he could walk to FBI headquarters in ten minutes, I thought, “Well, maybe 15.” That’s pretty good, seeing as how a popular television series like 24 expects us to believe that Jack Bauer can make from LAX to Hollywood in five.), and I believed I was watching a reenactment of events, not a dramatization.

BREACH is cast with a number of respected character actors, including geek favorite Gary Cole, but Chris Cooper deserves praise for creating a Robert Hanssen that’s completely believable, corrupt, and more than a little sympathetic. Cooper first came to my attention in the magnificent LONE STAR, and since then, he’s made a career of playing multidimensional, conflicted character with whom we can invest. Watching him play the warning signs I learned about in basic counterintelligence classes (and which anyone can learn by enjoying a visit to DC’s exceptional Spy Museum), I saw the bitterness, the vanity, the twisted sense of duty, the rage at marginalization I was taught to look for in people with access to sensitive information. I knew that Hanssen was a traitor, an accessory to murder, and a generally unlikable character, and I expected him to get his comeuppance. I didn’t expect him to break my heart, as he does here. Truly, Chris Cooper is one of the best actors working in American film.

I have a transatlantic flight coming up, and I think I’ll spend part of it watching the commentary with Eric O’Neill, the FBI agent played by Philippe. I want to see just how much of I was watching really happened.

Interesting aside: At the Spy Museum, they show a video interview with one of the women who first figured out that Hanssen was a spy. She had been conducting interviews with the (very large) suspect pool, and one of her stock questions was, “If you were going to spy on America for the Russians, how would you do it?” People really seemed to groove on this question, taking it as an interesting thought experiment and providing detailed, creative answers. Hanssen was the only interviewee who clammed up and got combative. That was the “A-ha!” moment that, eventually led to his arrest. Fascinating stuff.

The Good Shepherd

Filmmaker Joe McDonald sent me his thoughts on the THE GOOD SHEPHERD. I enjoyed his writing so much that I thought I'd pass it along to you.

Believe the peanut gallery, "TGS" was booorrring: **. I am so glad, in hindsight, that you were so compelled to suggest "Rocky Balboa" when it was "TGS" that I really had my eye on last Christmas.

Matt Damon plays Edward Wilson, a Yale graduate who, I believe, belonged to that same stupid secret society that Bush belongs to that signifies the beginning of a career of puppet-mastering in offices of power and prestige. At the cusp of graduation, Damon is approached by an army general (Robert DeNiro) to help form an organization that creates information and misinformation to assist the war effort during WWII, an organization we have come to know now as the CIA. And so begins a life of seven-day work weeks, talking in crypto-speak, a friendless environment, and alienating oneself from the family Damon loves. When he is approached by the same army general to head a similar peacetime organization to fight the Cold War, gee, how can he resist?

Why did this movie not work? There were no goals in this movie. I needed to see the value of having a CIA during World War II and thereafter. I needed to see Damon achieve a victory during the war that demonstrates his value to such an organization and seeing him get hooked. I needed to see some history and background of the CIA. This could have been soooo interesting. What I saw was the stoic faces, the subtextual conversations, shady characters, and close acquaintances getting killed during the war. I kept yelling at the TV for Damon to ditch the job, dump Angelina Jolie, and find that hot, deaf girl he was dating in college so that he can teach poetry at some northeast prep school like he wants to.

"TGS" looked fabulous visually, the cast is an all-star team of Oscar nominees and winners, the set dec and costumes are second to none. Hell, the screenwriter is Eric Roth ("Munich", "Forrest Gump", "The Insider"). What happened here?! Were all the good parts edited out? Is DeNiro a bad director?

What I do know is that I began to balance my checkbook at the halfway point of this movie. Pass on it.

The Waterboy

THE WATERBOY, a vintage Adam Sandler comedy from his “inappropriately aggressive man-child” phase, is an underdog sports comedy that has the titular water boy fired from LSU and sent to work at Louisiana’s last-place football college. Soon, he discovers a talent for sacking quarterbacks and makes the team, despite the fact that he seems to have an IQ of roughly 50. This movie works because it will do anything, absolutely anything, for a laugh. Think watching Fairuza Balk bite the heads off a baby ‘gator on a stick is funny? It’s in there! Think ‘70s fashion and hairstyles are funny? They’re in there! Think guys with crazy eyes and silly voices are funny? Well, you get the point.

Some of THE WATERBOY’s gags are funny, but most aren’t. However, seeing as how there’s roughly a gag a minute in this picture, you’re sure to find a several that’ll make you chuckle and, hopefully, one or two that will make you laugh out loud. That ain’t bad.

Acepted

ACCEPTED is your basic slobs vs. snobs comedy, anchored by Justin Long and set in an upstart college that dares to let students study whatever they want, on their own, as their path to self-actualization.

Long is likeable enough, the movie rocks along all right, and I chuckled once or twice, but it got me to thinking. ACCEPTED is both a wish fulfillment fantasy and a commentary on the current state of American society. Let's set aside, for now, the hypocrisy of the incredibly competitive entertainment industry in distributing a movie that celebrates just letting it all hang out. I'm more interested in the film's assumption that going to college in order to set oneself up for a decent job is a pale excuse for education when measured against finding oneself. Tell that to college kids in Bangalore and Dalian – the kids who are overtaking the US in technical innovation and international patent applications. They're in it for material gain, to compete in the global market, while American kids flee the hard sciences and engineering in favor of liberal arts degrees that feel good but both fail to prepare them for the international job market and keep them from being able to help maintain America's technical
edge.

Have we truly left the American work ethic behind, yearning instead for unlimited time to work the half-pipe and take pictures of girls in bikinis? If so, then look out, America: in another generation or two, we'll be the call the center operators of the world. Talking will be all we know how to do.

Fixed Bayonets!

FIXED BAYONETS! lays it right out for you in the opening lines, when one GI opines, "It takes more than brains to be a general. It takes guts to lead." And that's pretty much your movie. When Corporal Denno (Richard Basehart) admits that he doesn't have the guts to lead men in battle and thanks God that there's a lieutenant and three sergeants between him and command, we know that it's Four Little Indians and then this guy's gotta find out what he's made of.

From the IMDB (corrected for grammar):

The premise of this film is factually based on Task Force Faith in the Korean War: In late November 1950, the Chinese struck along the Chongchon River and overran several ROK divisions, landing an extremely heavy blow on the flank of the remaining UN forces. The resulting withdrawal of the United States Eighth Army was the longest retreat of an American unit in national history. In the east, at the Battle of Chosin Reservoir (November 26–December 13) a 3,000 man unit from the US 7th Infantry Division, Task Force Faith, was virtually wiped out, with significant hand to hand fighting. The Marines fared better; though surrounded and forced to retreat, they inflicted heavy casualties on the Chinese, who committed 6 divisions while trying to
destroy the Marines.

Of the 2,500 troops trapped by the Chinese, about 1,500 eventually made it back to American lines, the majority of them wounded or badly frostbitten. Roughly 300 able-bodied survivors were formed into a provisional battalion which was attached to the Marines and fought with them in the breakout of the 1st Marine Division during the remainder of the Battle of Chosin Reservoir. Over 1,000 soldiers of Task Force Faith were killed or died in Chinese captivity.

In FIXED BAYONETS!, a 2-Star tells his colonels that he needs a platoon to cover his division's retreat, fooling the Chinese into
thinking that he hasn't retreated at all. CPL Denno's platoon draws the short straw, and from there it's all about 36 guys trying to stay alive in the snow while Denno doesn't so much shirk responsibility as hope it doesn't fall on his shoulders. It could be so much drek, but it's brought to life by a man uniquely qualified to do so: co-screenwriter and director Samuel Fuller.

From Wikipedia: During World War II, Fuller joined the Army. He was assigned to the 1st Infantry Division, and saw heavy fighting. He was involved in landings in Africa, Sicily, and Normandy. He also saw action in Belgium and Czechoslovakia. For his service, he was awarded the Bronze Star, the Silver Star, and the Purple Heart.

Fuller understands the Army, he understands combat, and he understands platoon dynamics, which lends FIXED BAYONETS! an authenticity I hadn't expected. It gives the story urgency and drama, and it helps to create a thoroughly engrossing military thriller, even if we are absolutely certain of how CPL Denno will respond when the chips are down. In this case, it isn't so much the destination as it is the journey, and FIXED BAYONETS! is the closest you can get to winter in Korea without getting frostbite.

This is an excellent movie.

Sympathy for Mister Vengeance

Chan Wook Park's SYMPATHY FOR MR. VENGEANCE is a beautiful, horrifying, depressing, and thoroughly successful picture. With the exception of a final scene so implausible that it drew me out of the movie, SFMV captured and held my attention and imagination, even when I wanted to look away.

Park, the director behind JSA and OLDBOY, knows how to compose a scene. The color palette (Does green have special significance in Korean iconography?), set decoration, and placement of the actors themselves work together time and again to not only drive the narrative but generate stills I'd be happy to linger over in book form. While Park's composition can deliver real beauty, it can also deliver real horror. Be warned: SFMV is a horrifying movie, with many shots more akin to Miike than Malick. You may want to think twice before screening it for your friends, and I had to flip the screen down on my portable DVD player more than once to avoid disturbing those around me on the Metro.

As Don alluded in his comments on HOSTEL, horror works best when we've invested in its characters. SFMV's cast, including JSA's Kang-Ho Song (also excellent in MEMORIES OF MURDER) and Ha-Kyun Shin, bring their characters fully to life and give us people for whom we hope and fear. I'd like to take special note of Shin, who says more with his deaf-mute character than some actors do with 90 minutes-worth of dialogue. This investment has a downside, however: SFMV is just plain depressing. It gives us people we like and proceeds to punish them, punish them, and punish them some more. But here's the brilliance of this movie: just when things are at their worst, it gives us a chance to say, "Wow, what a shot!" Its artistry actually serves to give us the distance to stay engaged in the film. Without it, the experience would be too much.

SYMPATHY FOR MR. VENGEANCE works. It just plain does. On every level. This is the kind of movie I could watch again and again, finding more in the composition and structure, more in the events and performances. Rent it today.

Star Wars

STAR WARS is easily the best film in the franchise. While THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK usually garners more recognition, there's something about this first film that's so compelling, it's sense of wonder carries us through five inferior follow-ups.

You know how it begins: "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away ..." That's a great fairy tale setup, playing with our expectations by switching "galaxy" for "kingdom." But make no mistake: a fairy tale this is: you've got your farmboy who dreams of greatness, your princess in distress, your wizard, your pirate, even your trusty dog and heartless villain. You've got magic, swashbuckling, romance, even a little comedy relief, all wrapped up in a shiny sci-fi package to fool us into thinking we're actually seeing something new.

But even though we know better, we can still delight in the wonderful execution of this rightfully classic film. Its breathlessness and sense of adventure, its eager desire to please, and its genuinely likeable cast invite us along for the ride. And what a ride it is, filled with everything we could want from an adventure movie.

The film even ends with appropriate dash, jauntily saying that, yes, it has done everything it intended to do. What a delight, and what a pleasure to discover that, even after all these years, STAR WARS still delivers.