I took the whole family, +1, to ROCKY BALBOA. The +1 was my college roommate, and we entertained each other with ROCKY trivia prior to the show. OK, so I know enough about the ROCKY franchise to engage in a trivia battle. Additionally, I celebrated my older boy's first birthday with a ROCKY marathon and intend to do the same for my younger boy (Go, gender-role indoctrination!). In other words, I'm ROCKY BALBOA's target demographic. And I loved it.
From Bill Conti's classic music to Rocky's humble wisdom to a training montage that's the best I've seen since ROCKY III, ROCKY BALBOA delivers everything the hardcore fan could want. The real surprise lies in the film's appeal to the casual fan: one of the fun parts of this Christmas has been watching DB trying to convince her skeptical sisters that this is one movie they should see in the theater.
Here's the setup: Rocky is doing ok. He's a beloved Philadelphia sports figure; he owns a retaurant that, if not bustling, appears to be making the rent; and he's maintained his relationships with Paulie and his son (though the son is trying to pull away). Sadly, however, he feels empty. His beloved Adrian has passed away a few years earlier, he's not as close as he'd like with his son, and he feels like he's just going through the motions. What he really misses, even though he doesn't yet realize he misses it, is boxing. Events conspire to renew his interest in getting back into the sport, and it isn't long until that great montage is upon us.
ROCKY BALBOA uses that setup to give us a meditation on dignity, perseverance, and age. It gives us a Rocky who understands that life isn't about how hard you can punch, but how many punches you can take and keep on going. This Rocky may be the world's dumbest sage, but a sage he is as he inspires those around him to listen to their best selves, to stand as tall as they can, and to keep coming back. Rocky embodies these principles with a doggedness, humility, and grace that speaks to the theatrical audience as clearly as he does to his own fictional audiences. You can't not identify with this character. You can't not want to emulate this character. And you can't not cheer for this character even as he climbs into the ring for what you're certain will be a fatal match against an opponent so clearly superior that you need to forcibly suspend your disbelief to even accept that anyone would let the bout take place.
Sure, ROCKY BALBOA has its flaws. The movie sets up character arcs for Rocky's opponent and for a local tough on which it never capitalizes. Rocky's relationship with his son feels rushed and incomplete. And I could've used more drama in the actual fight. But I'm picking nits, here. ROCKY BALBOA is as good as ROCKY movies get, and that can be very good, indeed.
What a pleasant surprise.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
A Room With A View
Several weeks ago, I wrote that life is too short to re-see A ROOM WITH A VIEW. I was wrong.
The fact is, life is too short, so we should see A ROOM WITH A VIEW at every opportunity. As each minute of watching the walking bobble-head known as Helena Bonham Carter make a Baxter out of Daniel Day Lewis stretches into an eternity, the glacial passage of time makes us feel that life, rather than fleeting, is a long, tedious trudge of geologic proportions.
I want to see this movie on my deathbed. It'll make me feel like I'm living forever.
The fact is, life is too short, so we should see A ROOM WITH A VIEW at every opportunity. As each minute of watching the walking bobble-head known as Helena Bonham Carter make a Baxter out of Daniel Day Lewis stretches into an eternity, the glacial passage of time makes us feel that life, rather than fleeting, is a long, tedious trudge of geologic proportions.
I want to see this movie on my deathbed. It'll make me feel like I'm living forever.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Little Miss Sunshine
We meat Greg Kinnear's character early in LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE. He's
giving a motivational speech to an offscreen group and, while the
subject matter is a bit thin, he's swinging away. Since I do a fair
bit of public speaking, I immediately identified with him.
Maybe that's why I found LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE to be so hard to watch.
The movie spends its running time punching Kinnnear's character, a
father trying to put a hopeful face on hard times, directly in the
nose so many times that he eventually gives up and gives in. Movie
people call that kind of behavior "letting go" and seem to think it a
good idea. I just found it sad.
I found nearly the entire movie sad, so much so that I don't know why
people think of LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE as a comedy. It's a movie about
flawed people enduring trying situations and relationships, and it
makes us feel more sad than entertained.
giving a motivational speech to an offscreen group and, while the
subject matter is a bit thin, he's swinging away. Since I do a fair
bit of public speaking, I immediately identified with him.
Maybe that's why I found LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE to be so hard to watch.
The movie spends its running time punching Kinnnear's character, a
father trying to put a hopeful face on hard times, directly in the
nose so many times that he eventually gives up and gives in. Movie
people call that kind of behavior "letting go" and seem to think it a
good idea. I just found it sad.
I found nearly the entire movie sad, so much so that I don't know why
people think of LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE as a comedy. It's a movie about
flawed people enduring trying situations and relationships, and it
makes us feel more sad than entertained.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Eternity and a Day
You know what's worse than watching a terrible movie your child
adores? Watching a supposedly fabulous movie that your wife adores
and that you just don't get.
Martin Scorsese presented Theo Angelopolous with the Golden Palm for
ETERNITY AND A DAY in 1998, and a film prof introduces the movie with
a bunch of gushing praise that DB made me watch while I burped the
baby and tried to amuse the older boy, so I suppose it's pretty good.
Additionally, DB routinely stopped and rewound certain shots and
scenes, oohing and aahing over the film's craftsmanship, a move which
made me feel all the more disconnected. All I saw was a muddy print
of a film telling a story I didn't understand about characters I
couldn't keep straight. Was Bruno Ganz kissing his daughter in that
one scene, or was it his mother or his dead ex-wife? And what was he
doing on that boat? And is he alive, dead, or something in between?
And what was the story on those musicians on the bus?
I left ETERNITY AND A DAY bored, baffled, and feeling like a complete
dolt. Somebody, please, explain this movie to me and tell me why I'm
supposed to like it. Until someone does, this will be one of those
titles that'll leave me scratching my head.
adores? Watching a supposedly fabulous movie that your wife adores
and that you just don't get.
Martin Scorsese presented Theo Angelopolous with the Golden Palm for
ETERNITY AND A DAY in 1998, and a film prof introduces the movie with
a bunch of gushing praise that DB made me watch while I burped the
baby and tried to amuse the older boy, so I suppose it's pretty good.
Additionally, DB routinely stopped and rewound certain shots and
scenes, oohing and aahing over the film's craftsmanship, a move which
made me feel all the more disconnected. All I saw was a muddy print
of a film telling a story I didn't understand about characters I
couldn't keep straight. Was Bruno Ganz kissing his daughter in that
one scene, or was it his mother or his dead ex-wife? And what was he
doing on that boat? And is he alive, dead, or something in between?
And what was the story on those musicians on the bus?
I left ETERNITY AND A DAY bored, baffled, and feeling like a complete
dolt. Somebody, please, explain this movie to me and tell me why I'm
supposed to like it. Until someone does, this will be one of those
titles that'll leave me scratching my head.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Shall We Dance
Here are a few direct quotes from my recent viewing of SHALL WE DANCE on TCM:
"Oh, my God. Look at that. This is what human beings are capable of."
"The pyramids, the moon landing, and this. Thank God for the medium of film to preserve this ... this ... beauty."
"When the aliens come and ask why they shouldn't eliminate mankind, I'm going to show them the 'Let's Call the Whole Thing Off' sequence."
"OK, those masks are creepy. Nothing's perfect."
Now, that's a movie.
"Oh, my God. Look at that. This is what human beings are capable of."
"The pyramids, the moon landing, and this. Thank God for the medium of film to preserve this ... this ... beauty."
"When the aliens come and ask why they shouldn't eliminate mankind, I'm going to show them the 'Let's Call the Whole Thing Off' sequence."
"OK, those masks are creepy. Nothing's perfect."
Now, that's a movie.
Madagascar
My 6yo has been dying to show me MADAGASCAR. Tonight, I made the time to sit down and watch it with him.
Here's the worst thing about watching a terrible movie that your child adores: there's no escape. You can't pick up a paper; you can't check your e-mail; you can't strike up a conversation with your significant other. Your child is monitoring your attention like Big Brother, and brother, you'd better be paying attention.
MADAGASCAR assumes that New York and New Yorkers are inherently interesting. They aren't. MADAGASCAR assumes that pop-culture parody is more interesting than character - based comedy. It isn't. MADAGASCAR thinks racial and cultural stereotypes make for great entertainment. They don't.
Here's the story: a lion, a zebra, a hippo, and a giraffe all live at a New York City zoo. They're happy. Their needs are met by the attentive and competent staff. They have everything they want. Except for the zebra. The zebra's pen sits opposite a frescoe of zebras frolicking in nature, and said zebra hatches a plan to escape and see the wilderness for himself. One thing leads to another and, before you know it, the friends wind up on the island of Madascar - an place which, though it holds a population of over 18 million and has a serious deforestation and desertification problem, looks like that island from "Lost" and doesn't appear to have a single human within its borders. Some of the animals want to go back to New York, some love it on the island, and everyone has to figure out a how carnivore is supposed to get along with his herbivorous friends without
zookeepers bringing him steaks every night.
The movie feels NYC-centric. Its animals are proud New Yorkers, and MADASCAR thinks that jokes about which train runs to Connecticut generate big laughs. The movie so thoroughly roots itself if NY culture that one wonders whether anyone involved in the financing or production of this film ever step foot outside of Mahattan. I've passed through and flown over New York a few times - I mean, I can find the Museum of Natural History - , but I'm not particularly vested in that city or its denizens (In the collective. Shari and Andy are both great.). I didn't empathize with the animals' love of their metropolis and I didn't find the NYC-centric gags (Look! The police horse has a Brooklyn accent!) particularly amusing.
The movie, a Dreamworks production, loves pop-culture parody and references. After the towering success of the SHREK films, they've probably written it into the corporate bible. Problem is, those kinds of jokes age extraordinarily quickly. Many of them already felt passe, and many of them would've made me grown had I been watching alone. (Which I wouldn't have. At least, not past the first twenty minutes.) MADAGASCAR is supposed to be a comedy. It made my child laugh, but the gags that they mixed in just for me simply did not work.
Finally, we have stereotypes. Oh, how I love 'em. But the fat hippo as sassy-black-Big-Momma? Who are these people?
I'll tell you, MADASCAR hurt. But a dad's gotta do what a dad's gotta do.
Here's the worst thing about watching a terrible movie that your child adores: there's no escape. You can't pick up a paper; you can't check your e-mail; you can't strike up a conversation with your significant other. Your child is monitoring your attention like Big Brother, and brother, you'd better be paying attention.
MADAGASCAR assumes that New York and New Yorkers are inherently interesting. They aren't. MADAGASCAR assumes that pop-culture parody is more interesting than character - based comedy. It isn't. MADAGASCAR thinks racial and cultural stereotypes make for great entertainment. They don't.
Here's the story: a lion, a zebra, a hippo, and a giraffe all live at a New York City zoo. They're happy. Their needs are met by the attentive and competent staff. They have everything they want. Except for the zebra. The zebra's pen sits opposite a frescoe of zebras frolicking in nature, and said zebra hatches a plan to escape and see the wilderness for himself. One thing leads to another and, before you know it, the friends wind up on the island of Madascar - an place which, though it holds a population of over 18 million and has a serious deforestation and desertification problem, looks like that island from "Lost" and doesn't appear to have a single human within its borders. Some of the animals want to go back to New York, some love it on the island, and everyone has to figure out a how carnivore is supposed to get along with his herbivorous friends without
zookeepers bringing him steaks every night.
The movie feels NYC-centric. Its animals are proud New Yorkers, and MADASCAR thinks that jokes about which train runs to Connecticut generate big laughs. The movie so thoroughly roots itself if NY culture that one wonders whether anyone involved in the financing or production of this film ever step foot outside of Mahattan. I've passed through and flown over New York a few times - I mean, I can find the Museum of Natural History - , but I'm not particularly vested in that city or its denizens (In the collective. Shari and Andy are both great.). I didn't empathize with the animals' love of their metropolis and I didn't find the NYC-centric gags (Look! The police horse has a Brooklyn accent!) particularly amusing.
The movie, a Dreamworks production, loves pop-culture parody and references. After the towering success of the SHREK films, they've probably written it into the corporate bible. Problem is, those kinds of jokes age extraordinarily quickly. Many of them already felt passe, and many of them would've made me grown had I been watching alone. (Which I wouldn't have. At least, not past the first twenty minutes.) MADAGASCAR is supposed to be a comedy. It made my child laugh, but the gags that they mixed in just for me simply did not work.
Finally, we have stereotypes. Oh, how I love 'em. But the fat hippo as sassy-black-Big-Momma? Who are these people?
I'll tell you, MADASCAR hurt. But a dad's gotta do what a dad's gotta do.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
The Accountant
THE ACCOUNTANT won the Academy Award for best short film of 2001. Someone gave it to me for Christmas (so I opened it early – sue me) for reasons I don’t entirely understand.
THE ACCOUNTANT’s biggest revelation is the fact that the guy who played the preacher in “Deadwood”’s first season now owns an Academy Award, as does one of the guys who play sleazy cops in “The Shield.” They produced and acted in the picture, and the guy who played the preacher actually wrote it. Good for him!
Here’s the setup: a down-on-his-luck farmer calls asks a shady accountant, who may or may not be demonic, to come take a look at his books and try to figure out a way to save the family farm. The finance-man’s recommendations are unconventional. They may damn the farmer. But they may work.
THE ACCOUNTANT hooks us with the strangeness of its titular character, and it keeps us through its natural and empathetic feel for its characters and their lives. It’s the kind of movie that provides a few chuckles, a few revelations, and a number of things to discuss after the show. If you happen to catch it on IFC, give it 38 minutes. It’s worth a go.
THE ACCOUNTANT’s biggest revelation is the fact that the guy who played the preacher in “Deadwood”’s first season now owns an Academy Award, as does one of the guys who play sleazy cops in “The Shield.” They produced and acted in the picture, and the guy who played the preacher actually wrote it. Good for him!
Here’s the setup: a down-on-his-luck farmer calls asks a shady accountant, who may or may not be demonic, to come take a look at his books and try to figure out a way to save the family farm. The finance-man’s recommendations are unconventional. They may damn the farmer. But they may work.
THE ACCOUNTANT hooks us with the strangeness of its titular character, and it keeps us through its natural and empathetic feel for its characters and their lives. It’s the kind of movie that provides a few chuckles, a few revelations, and a number of things to discuss after the show. If you happen to catch it on IFC, give it 38 minutes. It’s worth a go.
Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby
If BEERFEST was mildly disappointing, TALLEDEGA NIGHTS was crushingly
bad. I sat through the entire excruciating affair with a stone face,
utterly unable to buy into the comedy on any level.
Ricky Bobby is a boring, one-dimensional character. His nemesis,
played by emerging favorite Sacha Baron Cohen, is a boring,
one-dimensional character. In fact, every character in this movie is
boring and one-dimensional.
TALLADEGA NIGHTS tries so hard to be wacky and over-the-top that turns
out a wild misfire. Not only that, but it's insulting: it's one thing
to make a little extra money through product placement; it's another
to stop the action for a full-blown commercial thinly disguised as a
"joke" I want my money back.
bad. I sat through the entire excruciating affair with a stone face,
utterly unable to buy into the comedy on any level.
Ricky Bobby is a boring, one-dimensional character. His nemesis,
played by emerging favorite Sacha Baron Cohen, is a boring,
one-dimensional character. In fact, every character in this movie is
boring and one-dimensional.
TALLADEGA NIGHTS tries so hard to be wacky and over-the-top that turns
out a wild misfire. Not only that, but it's insulting: it's one thing
to make a little extra money through product placement; it's another
to stop the action for a full-blown commercial thinly disguised as a
"joke" I want my money back.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Beerfest
I wanted to love BEERFEST. I think SUPER TROOPERS is one of the best comedies out there and I’m one of the few people in America who actually owns the CLUB DREAD DVD. I think the Broken Lizard guys are fun to watch, they come up with great ideas, and they’re generally funny as hell.
BEERFEST, however, felt a little off. Sure, I laughed a few times, but something about the movie felt perfunctory. Its structure is so blatantly formulaic that even its copious gratuitous boob shots can’t keep us hooked in, the DAS BOOT gags get old fast, and the whole affair limps from one joke to the next with all the enthusiasm of an underprepared freshman checking all Bs on a multiple-guess exam.
Nevertheless, I did manage to laugh a few times, and there is something to be said for gratuitous boob shots. I didn’t love BEERFEST, but I guess I liked it ok.
I hear Broken Lizard is going to set its next comedy in Ancient Greece. Hopefully, I’ll be able to give that picture more than this faint praise.
BEERFEST, however, felt a little off. Sure, I laughed a few times, but something about the movie felt perfunctory. Its structure is so blatantly formulaic that even its copious gratuitous boob shots can’t keep us hooked in, the DAS BOOT gags get old fast, and the whole affair limps from one joke to the next with all the enthusiasm of an underprepared freshman checking all Bs on a multiple-guess exam.
Nevertheless, I did manage to laugh a few times, and there is something to be said for gratuitous boob shots. I didn’t love BEERFEST, but I guess I liked it ok.
I hear Broken Lizard is going to set its next comedy in Ancient Greece. Hopefully, I’ll be able to give that picture more than this faint praise.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Rudy
What’s not to love about RUDY? It speaks to powerful American archetypes and values, it’s competently plotted and paced, and it sells its characters every step of the way.
RUDY’s one of those movies I’ve long felt that I should see, but I couldn’t quite muster the will. I imagined it would be treacly and pandering, and I don’t particularly care about either the University of Notre Dame or its football program. When I finally dug in and gave it a go, RUDY hooked me from the moment an authority figure told the scrappy hero what he couldn’t do – what ambitions were beyond realization for a youngster of his means and talents. I strongly identify with that situation, and I was right there with Rudy as he put his thumb in the eye of The Man through a combination of hard work and perseverance. I suspect that the movie resonates with a wider audience because RUDY’s story is the classic American story, that of the underdog who succeeds against all odds.
The nature of that success helps sell the movie. RUDY doesn’t face an obstacle, go through a handy montage, and quickly triumph over his opponents while winning the girl. He fails again and again and again, questioning himself and the value of his goal, but he keeps at it like a terrier at a rat. His triumph isn’t the sudden victory of the naturally talented or magically transformed; it’s the triumph of hard work over natural talent, of tenacity over nearly everything. It speaks to us because we can so readily identify with Rudy. How many of us are super-geniuses or fantastically gifted athletes? How many of us have gotten where we are through our willingness to work a little harder, study a little more, run a little farther than the next guy?
The story moves along briskly. Rudy dreams of playing football for Notre Dame, but he’s told that he isn’t college material and he believes it. Four years after high school, he’s stuck working in a steel mill until he realizes that if he doesn’t get to work on his dream, it will never happen. He heads to South Bend and tries to enroll at Notre Dame. He’s rejected and settles for the local junior college, where he does absolutely everything he can think of to get in to Notre Dame. After multiple rejections, he asks his priest, “Is there anything more I can do?” The answer is no – he’s doing everything he can and it doesn’t seem to be good enough. Nevertheless, he perseveres and finally gets accepted. Next stop: the football team, where he barely makes the practice squad. Will he ever get to suit up and take the field, even though he’s smaller than the other guys? The answer is obvious, but that doesn’t keep us from coming along on every step of the journey, rooting for the underdog Rudy as he overcomes the myriad challenges and scores the little victories that add up to success.
Sean Astin, as the titular character, does fine work here. He’s hopeful and determined, and we feel for him in his failures and successes. He’s backed by a solid cast which includes Ned Beatty as a millworker father, John Favreau as his tutor, and Charles Dutton as the groundskeeper who acts as a sort of surrogate father for Rudy, giving him a pat on the back or a kick in the ass, as required.
I wasn’t expecting to particularly enjoy RUDY. I saw it for cultural awareness. What a pleasure, then, that its combination of message, structure, and performance worked so well. RUDY is a real treat.
RUDY’s one of those movies I’ve long felt that I should see, but I couldn’t quite muster the will. I imagined it would be treacly and pandering, and I don’t particularly care about either the University of Notre Dame or its football program. When I finally dug in and gave it a go, RUDY hooked me from the moment an authority figure told the scrappy hero what he couldn’t do – what ambitions were beyond realization for a youngster of his means and talents. I strongly identify with that situation, and I was right there with Rudy as he put his thumb in the eye of The Man through a combination of hard work and perseverance. I suspect that the movie resonates with a wider audience because RUDY’s story is the classic American story, that of the underdog who succeeds against all odds.
The nature of that success helps sell the movie. RUDY doesn’t face an obstacle, go through a handy montage, and quickly triumph over his opponents while winning the girl. He fails again and again and again, questioning himself and the value of his goal, but he keeps at it like a terrier at a rat. His triumph isn’t the sudden victory of the naturally talented or magically transformed; it’s the triumph of hard work over natural talent, of tenacity over nearly everything. It speaks to us because we can so readily identify with Rudy. How many of us are super-geniuses or fantastically gifted athletes? How many of us have gotten where we are through our willingness to work a little harder, study a little more, run a little farther than the next guy?
The story moves along briskly. Rudy dreams of playing football for Notre Dame, but he’s told that he isn’t college material and he believes it. Four years after high school, he’s stuck working in a steel mill until he realizes that if he doesn’t get to work on his dream, it will never happen. He heads to South Bend and tries to enroll at Notre Dame. He’s rejected and settles for the local junior college, where he does absolutely everything he can think of to get in to Notre Dame. After multiple rejections, he asks his priest, “Is there anything more I can do?” The answer is no – he’s doing everything he can and it doesn’t seem to be good enough. Nevertheless, he perseveres and finally gets accepted. Next stop: the football team, where he barely makes the practice squad. Will he ever get to suit up and take the field, even though he’s smaller than the other guys? The answer is obvious, but that doesn’t keep us from coming along on every step of the journey, rooting for the underdog Rudy as he overcomes the myriad challenges and scores the little victories that add up to success.
Sean Astin, as the titular character, does fine work here. He’s hopeful and determined, and we feel for him in his failures and successes. He’s backed by a solid cast which includes Ned Beatty as a millworker father, John Favreau as his tutor, and Charles Dutton as the groundskeeper who acts as a sort of surrogate father for Rudy, giving him a pat on the back or a kick in the ass, as required.
I wasn’t expecting to particularly enjoy RUDY. I saw it for cultural awareness. What a pleasure, then, that its combination of message, structure, and performance worked so well. RUDY is a real treat.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Apocalypto
I respect APOCALYPTO more than I liked it.
Don't get me wrong: there's plenty to like about the movie. It's your basic "hunted man" picture, and that's a formula that's nearly impossible to botch. Problem is, APOCALYPTO is just a "hunted man" movie. I guess I was expecting something more: a meditation on Mayan civilization, perhaps, or at least a deeper journey into that culture.
Here's the setup: Jaguar Paw is doin' all right. He's the heir apparent to his father's tribal chiefdom. He's a good hunter, a good guy, and a good husband and father. He essentially embodies a tribal Mayan version of rustic virtue. Then, slavers from the city show up. They burn down his village, capture him and his friends, and drive them to the corrupted city for sacrifice. During the raid, Jaguar Paw managed to hide his family. He has to escape and get back to them, and to do so he has to evade the hunters who track him every step of the way.
As I said, it's a perfectly good "hunted man" picture, and I liked it fine. The respect part comes in with APOCALYPTO's realization of Mayan culture. The scenes in the corrupted city are nothing short of breathtaking, as the film imagines, down to the last detail of architecture and costume, what Mayan civilization may actually have felt and looked. It's awesome, and awe-inspiring, and I wound up appreciating and respecting its ambition and audacity more than anything else.
I liked APOCALYPTO just fine, but I tip my had to its ambition and audacity. It's worth seeing for that alone.
Don't get me wrong: there's plenty to like about the movie. It's your basic "hunted man" picture, and that's a formula that's nearly impossible to botch. Problem is, APOCALYPTO is just a "hunted man" movie. I guess I was expecting something more: a meditation on Mayan civilization, perhaps, or at least a deeper journey into that culture.
Here's the setup: Jaguar Paw is doin' all right. He's the heir apparent to his father's tribal chiefdom. He's a good hunter, a good guy, and a good husband and father. He essentially embodies a tribal Mayan version of rustic virtue. Then, slavers from the city show up. They burn down his village, capture him and his friends, and drive them to the corrupted city for sacrifice. During the raid, Jaguar Paw managed to hide his family. He has to escape and get back to them, and to do so he has to evade the hunters who track him every step of the way.
As I said, it's a perfectly good "hunted man" picture, and I liked it fine. The respect part comes in with APOCALYPTO's realization of Mayan culture. The scenes in the corrupted city are nothing short of breathtaking, as the film imagines, down to the last detail of architecture and costume, what Mayan civilization may actually have felt and looked. It's awesome, and awe-inspiring, and I wound up appreciating and respecting its ambition and audacity more than anything else.
I liked APOCALYPTO just fine, but I tip my had to its ambition and audacity. It's worth seeing for that alone.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Clerks 2
CLERKS 2 felt like Kevin Smith just gave up and said, "Screw it. I'll give the people what they want." It's only differences from the original are that it's filmed in color and it isn't quite as funny.
You know the setup: the titular clerks are now fast-food workers who, you know, have antics. The get in trouble. They crack wise. They have a touching moment of heartfelt conversation and clarity.
The movie's funny, periodically, but there's something stale about it. It's like watching a catskills comedian who simply doesn't get that the world has moved on - you may laugh from time to time, but you mostly feel sorry for it.
What a bummer.
You know the setup: the titular clerks are now fast-food workers who, you know, have antics. The get in trouble. They crack wise. They have a touching moment of heartfelt conversation and clarity.
The movie's funny, periodically, but there's something stale about it. It's like watching a catskills comedian who simply doesn't get that the world has moved on - you may laugh from time to time, but you mostly feel sorry for it.
What a bummer.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Deja Vu
I liked DEJA VU well enough, but I never lost track of time and I never got swept away.
DEJA VU should be the kind of movie that I go for: a thriller with a science fiction twist. It has a clever script, a likeable cast, and a healthy respect for the laws physics (not that it lets those laws get in the way of the story, but it does at least tip its hat to them). It's script is of the type whose scientific genius, when calling for more power for his time-travel gizmo, shouts, "I'm gonna need more cowbell!" It stars the reliable Denzel Washington, who really needs to do a romantic comedy for a change, and noted time travelling veteran Jim Caviezel makes a fine, if rather one-dimensional, foil. Its understanding of the physical universe struck me as plausible, which is rare for a time-travel movie, but there's something about it ...
I never really bought Washington as an ATF agent with an expertise in explosives. I was ready to, but then the film uses him as the audience surrogate for the exposition about time-warping device. By forcing him to ask dumb questions and come off as anti-intellectual, the film makes him dumber than he could be and still do his job. Additionally, I never felt for the distressed damsel, a woman whose sole character trait appears to be that she looks good in underwear. Finally, the movie itself jumped and danced and exploded so much that it kept reminding me that it was a movie and not a portal into its particular sliver of space-time.
My God: what's happening to me? I'm digging movies about the Queen of England's bad week more than movies about stuff blowing up. Before I know it, I'll start listening to soft rock.
DEJA VU should be the kind of movie that I go for: a thriller with a science fiction twist. It has a clever script, a likeable cast, and a healthy respect for the laws physics (not that it lets those laws get in the way of the story, but it does at least tip its hat to them). It's script is of the type whose scientific genius, when calling for more power for his time-travel gizmo, shouts, "I'm gonna need more cowbell!" It stars the reliable Denzel Washington, who really needs to do a romantic comedy for a change, and noted time travelling veteran Jim Caviezel makes a fine, if rather one-dimensional, foil. Its understanding of the physical universe struck me as plausible, which is rare for a time-travel movie, but there's something about it ...
I never really bought Washington as an ATF agent with an expertise in explosives. I was ready to, but then the film uses him as the audience surrogate for the exposition about time-warping device. By forcing him to ask dumb questions and come off as anti-intellectual, the film makes him dumber than he could be and still do his job. Additionally, I never felt for the distressed damsel, a woman whose sole character trait appears to be that she looks good in underwear. Finally, the movie itself jumped and danced and exploded so much that it kept reminding me that it was a movie and not a portal into its particular sliver of space-time.
My God: what's happening to me? I'm digging movies about the Queen of England's bad week more than movies about stuff blowing up. Before I know it, I'll start listening to soft rock.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
The Queen
Hellen Mirren can do no wrong.
Think about it - when have you seen a poor Mirren performance? Whether scheming against Arthur
solving mysteries, selling calendars, or ruling England, she's always absolutely believable and engaging.
Thus, it comes as no surprise that Helen Mirren is brilliant - absolutely brilliant - in THE QUEEN, a
Stephen Frears film that gives us Elizabeth as character study at the height of England's grief for
the just-killed Diana Spencer.
THE QUEEN balances Elizabeth's story with that of Tony Blair, the newly-elected Prime Minister whose view
of his sovereign, and of himself, matures over the course of the film. Blair's 10 Downing Street is shown in
frank contrast to the Queen's Balmoral and Westminster, setting it up as a stand-in for the New England
in its struggle and accomodation with the Old England the Queen represents. It's neat stuff, and it's well
executed, and I stayed thoroughly involved for every minute of it.
But what really makes this production stand out is Mirren's Queen. She's a fully developed character, totally committed
to her sense of herself, her office, her stoicism, and her duty as she sees it. In this role, Mirren's a mistress of the
subtle gesture, the emotion behind the control, and her performance is nothing short of delightful.
I don't particularly care about the Queen of England, to tell you the truth. I'm not English and I never "got" the
royals worship that's so common here in the States. But THE QUEEN made me care about Elizabeth and her world in a personal
way, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
What a winner.
Think about it - when have you seen a poor Mirren performance? Whether scheming against Arthur
solving mysteries, selling calendars, or ruling England, she's always absolutely believable and engaging.
Thus, it comes as no surprise that Helen Mirren is brilliant - absolutely brilliant - in THE QUEEN, a
Stephen Frears film that gives us Elizabeth as character study at the height of England's grief for
the just-killed Diana Spencer.
THE QUEEN balances Elizabeth's story with that of Tony Blair, the newly-elected Prime Minister whose view
of his sovereign, and of himself, matures over the course of the film. Blair's 10 Downing Street is shown in
frank contrast to the Queen's Balmoral and Westminster, setting it up as a stand-in for the New England
in its struggle and accomodation with the Old England the Queen represents. It's neat stuff, and it's well
executed, and I stayed thoroughly involved for every minute of it.
But what really makes this production stand out is Mirren's Queen. She's a fully developed character, totally committed
to her sense of herself, her office, her stoicism, and her duty as she sees it. In this role, Mirren's a mistress of the
subtle gesture, the emotion behind the control, and her performance is nothing short of delightful.
I don't particularly care about the Queen of England, to tell you the truth. I'm not English and I never "got" the
royals worship that's so common here in the States. But THE QUEEN made me care about Elizabeth and her world in a personal
way, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
What a winner.
The Constant Gardener
THE CONSTANT GARDENER disappointed me. It had an excellent script and a first-class cast, but it was hobbled by photography and music so distracting that I spent more time thinking about how annoyed I was than I did actually engaging with the film. Bummer. Danny Huston did provide one very bright spot, however. After enjoying his performance in SILVER CITY as a good guy who's trying to be bad, it was fun to watch him flip the characterization on its head for this picture.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan
I didn’t expect to like BORAT: CULTURAL LEARNINGSOF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN. I’m not a fan of the comedy of discomfort, and by the time the film got its release, its titular character had become overexposed. Nevertheless, I had to stay up late to recalibrate my body clock for something I’m working on, and it was either BORAT or HAPPY FEET.
While I didn’t laugh all through BORAT, I laughed through a great deal of it. Cohen has this way of making his character both so charming and so offensive that I couldn’t help myself: “I hope your President Bush drinks the blood of every man, woman, and child in Iraq!” may very well be the funniest line of 2006. Additionally, I loved the way he drew Americans into validating his faux-Kazakhstani stereotypes while validating the stereotypical way in which different regions of the country view one another.
I’m surprised to say it, but BORAT is that rare comedy that gives plenty to laugh about and plenty to chew on. In fact, the more I think about it, the better it gets. It’s easily my biggest surprise of 2006.
While I didn’t laugh all through BORAT, I laughed through a great deal of it. Cohen has this way of making his character both so charming and so offensive that I couldn’t help myself: “I hope your President Bush drinks the blood of every man, woman, and child in Iraq!” may very well be the funniest line of 2006. Additionally, I loved the way he drew Americans into validating his faux-Kazakhstani stereotypes while validating the stereotypical way in which different regions of the country view one another.
I’m surprised to say it, but BORAT is that rare comedy that gives plenty to laugh about and plenty to chew on. In fact, the more I think about it, the better it gets. It’s easily my biggest surprise of 2006.
Casino Royale
CASINO ROYALE is the first James Bond film I’ve liked since Timothy Dalton left the franchise. But something about it bothered the hell out of me.
Don’t get me wrong: Pierce Brosnan was a fine Bond, keeping the character just this side of self-parody while clearly having fun with the role. Problem is, he was a fine Bond in terrible movies. Denise Richards as a nuclear physicist? Invisible cars? “He’s the best there is”? Give me a break – he’s one of nine. Sure, I saw every one of his movies, but I walked out disappointed every time. It got to the point where, as with Star Wars, I was ready to leave the franchise behind. Daniel Craig, on the other hand, got lucky with his first film in the role. CASINO ROYAL’s stunts looked practical, its villains seemed plausible, and its story seemed reasonable. This gave the film a sense of urgency that the others lacked, and it helped to keep me entertained throughout its running time.
But here’s the thing that bothered me: I finally realized that the Bond franchise is basically wealth porn. It dangles before us, bright and shiny, a world of fabulously wealthy people living fabulous lives in fabulous locations. Even its working stiffs, its spies and accountants, get to live fabulously on their governments’ tabs (he writes, looking around his serviceable but decidedly non-fabulous government-funded hotel room). It equates wealth with conspicuous consumption, two things that have proven, time and again, to be fundamentally incompatible, and it does so while burying us in advertising for watches, cars, beverages, hotels, and nearly every other consumable a profligate spender might reasonably purchase. I have a problem with wealth porn, because it encourages the kind of irresponsible behavior that leads to people purchasing vehicles whose value outweighs that of their retirement plans, all for a taste of what they perceive to be “the good life.” Why did this particular installment trigger that connection? I suspect that it was the sight of James Bond driving to a posh location alone in a Ford, then driving away in a fabulous sports car, beautiful woman at his side, because he had basically won the lottery. My first reaction? “Frack! I need to win the lottery!” (Legal Disclaimer: So I can put the beautiful woman to whom I’m married in a fabulous sports car. Let’s make that perfectly clear.) My second reaction? “What am I thinking? I need to make another contribution to my Roth IRA!”
So while I enjoyed the movie, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was selling me an attractive lie. It’s the blemish on an otherwise entirely enjoyable film. I wouldn’t let a little wealth porn turn you away.
Don’t get me wrong: Pierce Brosnan was a fine Bond, keeping the character just this side of self-parody while clearly having fun with the role. Problem is, he was a fine Bond in terrible movies. Denise Richards as a nuclear physicist? Invisible cars? “He’s the best there is”? Give me a break – he’s one of nine. Sure, I saw every one of his movies, but I walked out disappointed every time. It got to the point where, as with Star Wars, I was ready to leave the franchise behind. Daniel Craig, on the other hand, got lucky with his first film in the role. CASINO ROYAL’s stunts looked practical, its villains seemed plausible, and its story seemed reasonable. This gave the film a sense of urgency that the others lacked, and it helped to keep me entertained throughout its running time.
But here’s the thing that bothered me: I finally realized that the Bond franchise is basically wealth porn. It dangles before us, bright and shiny, a world of fabulously wealthy people living fabulous lives in fabulous locations. Even its working stiffs, its spies and accountants, get to live fabulously on their governments’ tabs (he writes, looking around his serviceable but decidedly non-fabulous government-funded hotel room). It equates wealth with conspicuous consumption, two things that have proven, time and again, to be fundamentally incompatible, and it does so while burying us in advertising for watches, cars, beverages, hotels, and nearly every other consumable a profligate spender might reasonably purchase. I have a problem with wealth porn, because it encourages the kind of irresponsible behavior that leads to people purchasing vehicles whose value outweighs that of their retirement plans, all for a taste of what they perceive to be “the good life.” Why did this particular installment trigger that connection? I suspect that it was the sight of James Bond driving to a posh location alone in a Ford, then driving away in a fabulous sports car, beautiful woman at his side, because he had basically won the lottery. My first reaction? “Frack! I need to win the lottery!” (Legal Disclaimer: So I can put the beautiful woman to whom I’m married in a fabulous sports car. Let’s make that perfectly clear.) My second reaction? “What am I thinking? I need to make another contribution to my Roth IRA!”
So while I enjoyed the movie, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was selling me an attractive lie. It’s the blemish on an otherwise entirely enjoyable film. I wouldn’t let a little wealth porn turn you away.
Monday, November 27, 2006
The Incredibles
THE INCREDIBLES is a perfect movie. It has humor, it has pathos, it has action. It has a wonderfully creative design, a fully realized world, and terrific music that builds on a solid script.
You know how some movies are billed as "fun for the whole family"? THE INCREDIBLES really is. The movie offers several characters that provide an "in" to the story, it builds and sustains tension in interesting and creative ways, and it manages the perfect balance between providing enough danger to keep things interesting, while never scaring the kids into believing that the heroes are in really big trouble.
It had been a few years since last I saw this movie, and I wondered if it would hold up. It did. THE INCREDIBLES is a genuine classic.
You know how some movies are billed as "fun for the whole family"? THE INCREDIBLES really is. The movie offers several characters that provide an "in" to the story, it builds and sustains tension in interesting and creative ways, and it manages the perfect balance between providing enough danger to keep things interesting, while never scaring the kids into believing that the heroes are in really big trouble.
It had been a few years since last I saw this movie, and I wondered if it would hold up. It did. THE INCREDIBLES is a genuine classic.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Godzilla vs. Megalon
I'd never before seen an MST3K version of a film. I prefer to watch good movies, if I can, but this was the last unseen Godzilla picture in the Netflix inventory, and did feature the titular Megalon, as well as Jet Jaguar and Gigan, so I had to give it a shot.
As is the case with most Godzilla movies of its ('70s) era, it's insufferably bad. MST3K's riffs on the material, however, elevated it to near-masterpiece level. It's the funniest thing I've seen so far this month, and I recommend to anyone who's a little burned out on giant Japanese monsters.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Lady Vengeance
I was all set to love Chan Wook Park's LADY VENGEANCE. I thought SYMPATHY FOR MISTER VENGEANCE was excellent, and I think OLDBOY is one of the best films of the decade. When the beautifully stylized opening credits rolled, I sat back and got ready to wrap myself in the world of a master.
But here's the problem: people have been telling Park (Or is it Chan? I wish we could all settle on a Western standard.) that he's a genius, and he's starting to believe them. LADY VENGEANCE spend so much time cycling into and out of normal narrative time, its subnotes are so cute, and its flights of fancy so indistinguishable from mental instability, that LV fairly screams, "Look at me! I'm the work of a genius, dammit! A genius!" I could not immerse myself in its world because it couldn't quite decide in which world it wanted to immerse me. I could not empathize with its protagonist because by the time the film gave me enough material to do so, I had ceased to care. I could not enjoy the film because the film gave me no cause to do so.
LADY VENGEANCE is the kind of film in which the production designer seems to struggle with the lighting guy, who struggles with the cinematographer, who struggles with the director, who struggles with the actors. They're all trying to one-up each other, all trying to showcase their Genius. But they forgot about me, Joe- Guy -on -the -Couch -Whose -Back -Hurts -from -Raking -Leaves. Entertain me, people. Make me think. Hell, dazzle me. But don't distract me with your Genius.
Just tell me a story.
But here's the problem: people have been telling Park (Or is it Chan? I wish we could all settle on a Western standard.) that he's a genius, and he's starting to believe them. LADY VENGEANCE spend so much time cycling into and out of normal narrative time, its subnotes are so cute, and its flights of fancy so indistinguishable from mental instability, that LV fairly screams, "Look at me! I'm the work of a genius, dammit! A genius!" I could not immerse myself in its world because it couldn't quite decide in which world it wanted to immerse me. I could not empathize with its protagonist because by the time the film gave me enough material to do so, I had ceased to care. I could not enjoy the film because the film gave me no cause to do so.
LADY VENGEANCE is the kind of film in which the production designer seems to struggle with the lighting guy, who struggles with the cinematographer, who struggles with the director, who struggles with the actors. They're all trying to one-up each other, all trying to showcase their Genius. But they forgot about me, Joe- Guy -on -the -Couch -Whose -Back -Hurts -from -Raking -Leaves. Entertain me, people. Make me think. Hell, dazzle me. But don't distract me with your Genius.
Just tell me a story.
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