Naked Weapon

There's a movie out there called SO CLOSE. Corey Yuen directed it, and it stars Qi Shu, Wei Zhao, and Karen Mok. It's your basic "hot Chinese assassin" movie, and it's one of the best popcorn pictures there is. It has an interesting story; beautifully choreographed fight scenes; and Qi Shu, Wei Zhao, and Karen Mok. This movie does everything right: it's glossy, cheesy, and playful. It's the GONE WITH THE WIND of "hot Chinese assassin" movies.

And then there's NAKED WEAPON, released just two months after SO CLOSE. Directed by Siu-Tung Ching, it stars Maggie Q, Anya, and Jewel Lee. It's another "hot Chinese assassin" movie (Is this a bona fide subgenre? Perhaps I should investigate!), but it's downright terrible. NAKED WEAPON barely even has a story; its fight scenes practically define the word "lame;" and it stars Maggie Q, Anya, and Jewel Lee. If SO CLOSE is the GONE WITH THE WIND of "hot Chinese assassin" movies, this is the CANNONBALL RUN: uninspired, mechanical, and dull.
Here's the story: evil Madame M kidnaps 40 13-yr-old girls, dresses them up like Lara Croft, and puts them through five years of grueling training. Those who survive become the world's elite assassins, taking out the planet's hardest targets while bathing one another in longing gazes guaranteed to ignite the imaginations of 15-yr-old boys and bore the hell out of everyone else. But, of course, the FBI and CIA are hot on their tails, which is surprising: I had no idea that the PRC was so accomodating toward U.S. law enforcement and intelligence agencies.

So you've got your chases and your stunts and your fights and your sublimated lesbianism and your budding romance and all that crap, but none of it goes anywhere, none of it makes any sense, and none of it passes for entertainment. Charisma vacuum Maggie Q is no Qi Shu, and proves herself utterly incapable of anchoring a movie; even a cheesy popcorner like this one's trying to be. Siu-Tung Ching doesn't know how to make wirework look good, he doesn't know how to choreograph gravity-based effects, and he's even more in love with the windblown look than the guys who made KRRISH. Plus, he's a moron. How do you put Pei-pei Cheng in your picture and not give her a good fight?

NAKED WEAPON may -may- appeal to the aforementioned 15-yr-old boys, but I wouldn't even recommend it to one of them. If you've got a fever, and the only thing that'll cure it is a "hot Chinese assassin" movie, rent SO CLOSE. It's superior in every way. As for NAKED WEAPON, give it a pass. Watching this movie is like having your spine ripped out: you won't feel a thing.

Burn After Reading

BURN AFTER READING is a comedy with two funny lines. J.K. Simmons gets both of them. And he's only in the movie for ten minutes, tops.

The film, a misanthropic screwball comedy, is so heavy on misanthropy and so light on comedy that I spent more time marveling at the train wrecks piling before me than sustaining any kind of comic mood. Its as if everyone involved was told they were making a tragedy, with the exception of Simmons and his minion David (Sledge Hammer!) Rasche.

Many folks liked this picture, but I don't get it. How can you laugh when you're busy feeling bad for everyone onscreen?

Sunrise: A Tale of Two Humans

Emotionally captivating, visually wonderful, and technically marvelous, F.W. Murnau's SUNRISE: A SONG OF TWO HUMANS is a fitting swan song for the silent era.

Released in 1927, the same year THE JAZZ SINGER heralded the dawn of the talkies, SUNRISE proved that you don't need words to expound upon the human condition. The film tells the story of a marriage in crisis: the man, once happy at home, has fallen in love with another woman; one with expensive tastes. He's been selling the livestock to finance the affair, and now his mistress is really putting the screws to him. "Why," she asks, "doesn't your wife have an 'accident'? Then you could sell the farm and we could move to the city." It's a tempting offer. I'm not going to tell you if he takes her up on it or not.

What I will tell you, however, is that Murnau's touch is never more assured. He helps his actors and actresses sell their roles and, in the process, plays the human heart like a master. We laugh, we cry, we bite our nails, we're wholly lost in the story of these people and wholly vested in their fates. From perfectly timed comic touches like the reactions of a very proper gentlemen to the wardrobe malfunctions of the hapless woman standing beside him to scenes filled with a dark foreboding as rich as any in cinema, this is a film that knows how to work its audience.

Murnau supplements the cast's efforts through an extraordinary collaboration with cinematographers Charles Rosher and Karl Struss, men who figured out how to make their camera glide through space, use multiple exposures to create heightened realities, and even pull off some kind of trick that looks just like a modern green screen. These men's collective eye for composition and technical expertise combine to create a world sometimes simple, sometimes extraordinarily dazzling, and ever interesting. There's always something happening in every corner of the frame in SUNRISE, and I look forward to teasing out more details in subsequent viewings.

No kidding, folks: this movie has everything. It's a flat-out masterpiece, and well deserving of its Academy Awards (Best Picture, Unique and Artistic Production; Best Cinematographer; Best Actress in a Leading Role). What a gem.

Into the Wild

I was vaguely aware of Chris McCandless (aka Alexander Supertramp) before I viewed INTO THE WILD. I knew that Jon Krakauer, author of Into Thin Air, wrote a book about him. I thought the guy was basically a spoiled kid who thought he could just tramp off into the Alaskan bush with no preparation and got himself killed.

But you know what I just wrote about MONSTER? About how film can take us into worlds we didn’t know existed, into people we’d never understand otherwise? INTO THE WILD does this, taking us into McCandless’s world and into the heart of a fatally idealistic, romantic young man who wanted only what idealistic and romantic young men have always wanted: to find adventure and find the truth.

Sean Penn wrote and directed INTO THE WILD with a sure control of technical detail and an eye for character. As McCandless (Emile Hirsch, quite fine in the underrated SPEED RACER) travels America, the film wraps us in beautiful foreboding and the love of good people. It leads us to care about the young man at its center without allowing us to forget the damage he’s doing to those he left behind. It shows us that, by the time McCandless made it to Alaska, he actually was marginally prepared to be there. And it takes us on his journey with care and tenderness.

This is a beautiful film, with beautiful images, music, and performances. It’s a thoughtful film, a film that cares about ideas and emotions in a real, personal way. It’s a riveting film, one that keeps us fully engaged though we know how it will end. And it’s a great film, the kind we recommend to our friends. See it soon.

Monster

MONSTER, the Aileen Wournos story, takes us into an alien world and shows us what it’s like to live there. That’s the world of Wournos, a person who grew up in what, to many of us, is an alternate universe. Wournos doesn’t live in a place where people are basically good and things generally work out for the best. Rather, she lives in a world where people are vile and things generally fall apart. And while MONSTER never lets Wournos off the hook for her actions, it does leave us with an understanding of where she’s coming from.

Aileen Wournous was a street hooker who became a murderess, killing her customers and stealing their cars and cash. The film shows us why, and it’s a portrait of incredible sadness. As the film begins, Wournos (played by Charlize Theron) is in despair, on the verge of suicide. And then something totally unexpected happens: she falls in love, and she dares to hope. But in Wournos’s world, hope is a false promise. When the money runs out and the rope begins to fray, she’s gotta come up with something. And here’s where the movie breaks our heart, because when you’re Aileen Wournos, the list of somethings you can come up with is tragically limited.

The film has its flaws: Wournos occasionally says things that sound more like the voice of a writer than that of the character. Theron’s performance sometimes jars, as occasionally she belies her physical transformation with vocal ticks that remind us who it us under all that makeup and costuming. But these, frankly, are nitpicks. MONSTER is a very, very good picture, and well worth seeing. I’m sorry I waited so long.

Chopper

CHOPPER reminds me of SEXY BEAST. But imagine the Ben Kingsley character as the protagonist.

Here, Eric Bana plays a guy street-named Chopper. He’s a violent and charming sociopath whose ability to destroy the lives of everyone around him is eclipsed only by his self-absorption. The film, based loosely on the eponymous Australian criminal, is misnamed, however. It should have been named BANA, because its real focus is the ability of its lead actor.

This is the picture that broke Bana out, and for good reason. His Chopper is wheedling, arrogant, dangerous, needy, unpredictable, charming, streetwise but stupid, and extremely violent. Like Kingsley in SEXY BEAST, his every moment creates tension, both in the characters on the screen and the people watching. But as the protagonist of this film, Bana has to keep the tension going almost all the time. It’s amazing.

Well, here I am in my fourth paragraph, and I still haven’t mentioned the story, really. Fact is, I can hardly remember it, for the story is not Chopper’s draw: the performance is. Wow.

Die Nibelungen

Fritz Lang’s THE NIBELUNGEN, clocking in at over five hours long, is an ambitious work that had a huge impact in its day. Unfortunately, it hasn’t aged well. I slogged through the saga with one eye on the screen and one on the clock, never believing in anything or anyone I saw onscreen.

The film begins with Siegfried, a blacksmith’s apprentice who forges a blade so keen that his master declares he has nothing more to teach the young hero. Taking the sword and setting out to find his fortune, he slays a dragon, finds an invisibility cloak, and captures the treasure hoard of the dwarves. This is the best part of the picture, with a magnificently realized dragon puppet that’s over eighty feet long, great craft on Siegfried’s part, and a transfiguration effect that must have take days days to create.

But soon enough, Siegfried is in the hall of the Burgundian Kings, the titular Nibelungen. And here’s where the picture gets nasty. From here on out, the film is a feast of misogyny, racism, and general repudiation of Judaeo-Christian values. There’s deceit and counter deceit, blood revenge, cruel realpolitik, and an ultimate affirmation of the heroic woman only in terms of her cold-hearted cruelty. There’s a significant portion among the Huns that makes this proud people out as barely a step above lowland gorillas. But most importantly, and unforgivably, there’s nothing here to hang on to: the characters aren’t inherently fascinating, the pageantry isn’t particularly dazzling, and the whole thing feels rather flat.

At least, that’s how it seems to me, the modern viewer. The film made such a splash during its initial release that Goebbels asked Lang to make propaganda films for the Nazi political effort (showing great judgment, the director promptly fled to America). But while I can put myself into the mind of a person who enjoyed INTOLERANCE and THE IDLE CLASS, I can’t see the appeal of this one. It’s coming from a place too alien to me.

Encounters at the End of the World

I've had some time to cogitate on ENCOUNTERS AT THE END OF THE WORLD, and I appreciate it even more now than I did right after I saw it.

ENCOUNTERS AT THE END OF THE WORLD begins with a jaw-droppingly beautiful shot of scuba divers under the Antarctic Ice, segues into a silly visual of a monkey riding on a goat, and gets us thinking with an interview with one of the many denizens of Antarctica's McMurdo Station. And the film just goes from there, weaving a tapestry of people, stories, projects, and visuals in its portrait of a little place at the end of the world where the smart, hardworking, and adventurous come to explore the world and mankind's potential.

In the process, it gives us a film that pushes all our buttons: it's beautiful, enlightening, and thought provoking, and it lingers in our consciousness long after the credits end. It makes me regret that I made my "Best of 2008" list before I saw it: this film would surely rank at #1.

The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters

There is such a thing as competitive vintage video gaming. There are adults, people with businesses and families, who spend enormous amounts of time pursuing world records in games like Frogger, Q*Bert, Joust, Space Invaders, and Donkey Kong. These people have their own subculture, and their subculture has an evil king. THE KING OF KONG: A FISTFUL OF QUARTERS is a documentary about a hapless schmuck who decides that there's gotta be something he can succeed in, makes becoming the Donkey Kong champion that one thing, blunders into this subculture, and takes on the king.

It's phenomenal.

THE KING OF KONG has everything one could want in a movie: heroes, villains, partisans on both sides, romantic tension, and a structure so perfect one wonders if parts of it were scripted. As Steve Wiebe pursues his quest to finally win at something, we get wrapped up in it with him even as we see the toll it takes on his family. As Billy Mitchell and his minions try one ploy after another to protect his title, we boo and hiss even as we marvel at the fact that such an obvious slimeball can actually succeed in the wider world. Who knew that watching a pixellated plumber climb up a ladder could generate so much drama?

WALL-E

Pixar is in an interesting place. When we sit down for a Pixar film, we expect beauty and thought and humor. We expect to be dazzled, and anything short of that disappoints us.

Fear not. WALL-E is dazzling - it entranced my 2-yr old, my 8-yr old, my wife, and me. But it's also disturbing.

One of the film's sequences follows an obese person in a floating chair, gorging on visual media and wasting time discussing inanities such as what he thought of some movie or tv show he'd recently seen. It's all part of the film's message about consumerism, physical and virtual, and I couldn't help but see it as a shot at me.

You see, I'm a guy who likes to spend his time thinking about entertainments. I find watching movies and writing little snippets about them to be recreational, certainly moreso than the mind-numbing tedium that is fishing or planting stuff. And I do that writing on a nifty little computer, while sitting on a comfy couch. Granted, I'm fit, but I'm pretty sure that Jack LaLanne could kick my ass, and he was born in 1914. In other words, I'm almost exactly the kind of guy at whome WALL-E is taking a shot.

Which is fine. Good art has the power to confront, and I resolve that confrontation by noting that this isn't *all* I do, but that I also spend a considerable amount of my time doing actual jobs that actually make people's lives better here in the real world. But while I accept that film's thesis that a passive life is a live half-lived, I take issue with the agrarian utopianism it presents as an alternative. While the agrarian utopia has long held a place in the western imagination, anyone who has spent considerable time around farmers can report that they aren't the healthiest people on Earth. They live a hard life, the kind of life that looks great when you're stuck in a cubicle writing code, but the kind many would trade in a minute.

Jeez. Looking over the last couple of paragraphs, it seems like a wrote an nigh-incomprehensible mishmash of ideas. Perhaps it's time to go for a run.

Strictly Ballroom

Oh, how I love STRICTLY BALLROOM. 

I don't love this movie for its innovative storyline. I don't love this movie for its powerhouse performances. I don't love this movie for its groundbreaking technical innovations. I love this movie because this movie is so in love with movies that I can't help but fall in love with it. 

STRICTLY BALLROOM loves everything about movies. It loves classic, David v. Goliath setups wrapped around love stories. It loves big, broad, physical perfomances, the kind where the mousy girl from the back row lets her hair down, takes her glasses off, and blows everyone away. It loves those filters that turn every point of light into a star. It loves bright costumes, big dance numbers, and villains getting their comeuppance. 

And that love is infectious. It creates a film so joyful that my wife and I laughed all the way through it, riding a crest of goodwill the film created early and carried through to the closing number. What a great movie. 

Swordsman II

SWORDSMAN II is a milestone in my family. It's the first subtitled film that my 8-yr-old has sat for all the way through. It's also the first film featuring transgendered characters, quasi-lesbian romance, and bondage he's sat through. That wasn't really part of the game plan, but I guess it had to come sooner or later.

An hour after finishing SWORDSMAN II, I'm still not entirely sure what it's about. Jet Li is a Drunken Master -ish leader of a group of wuxia warriors on their way to some holy mountain, where they plan to renounce Kung Fu and live as - I don't know - peaceful mountain people until they run out of food or money or both. One of the warriors, a woman who refers to Li as "brother," is clearly hot for him. I hope he wasn't really her brother, or I'll have even more splainin to do when my wife gets home. Anyway, they're on their way to meet some hot chick whose equally hot henchwoman calls her "chief," and with whom she engages in some amusing tongueplay.

Then ninjas show up. With scorpions. But Hot Chief Chick and her minions unleash their snakes upon them and rocks them like a hurricane.

There's more: soon, a transgendered warlord (warlady?) shows up, back by her band of ronin. That's right: a transgendered warperson with samurai henchmen. "Really," I felt like saying to this movie, "you had me at ninjas and scorpions." But there's a twist (Oh, of course there is!): the warperson is married to a lady who's wondering why her husband hasn't slept with her in six months. And why he's wearing makeup. And taking up embroidery. And having the likes of Jet Li show up at her doorstep, drunk and horny, in the middle of the night.

Wait, what? What's Jet Li doing with this dudelette, when he's got these other two chicks (one with snakes) all over him? Well, it's complicated, but it has to do with the warperson's brother, whom she's been keeping chained in a dungeon for (coincidentally) six months.

Just as SWORDSMAN II really started to creep me out, however, it rolled into a huge wirework battle. While, sadly, the battle lacked scorpions or snakes, it featured plenty of needlepoint, swordplay, and needlepoint swordplay. Not to mention of the winnowing of the love quadrangle (which is always awkward, I don't care who you are) to a more manageable triangle. Bondage guy gets his mitts on warperson, which is satisfying if that's your thing, and Li is left with serious questions about his sexuality, which (it appears) his totally submissive quasi-sister will be more than happy to help him work though.

In other words, SWORDSMAN II makes for lovely family viewing. I'm reasonably confident that my kid didn't catch any of that, but instead saw an entirely different movie, one about a heroic clan fighting an evil warlady and relearning lessons about the futility of the martial life.

Thank God. I don't have time for that much splainin.

What I Thought About What I Saw: 2008

I rarely see films in theaters, so I often miss out on the year-end Prestige Pictures. That said, here are the top and bottom ten from among the films I did see before the year ran through.

THE BEST

1. Forgetting Sarah Marshall

This is the film I keep returning to in my mental "greatest hits" archive. Funny, sweet, and all-around wonderful, FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL is the 2008 film I'll be happy to see again and again.

2. Hellboy 2

Noone does "dazzling flights of the imagination" like Del Toro, and HELLBOY 2's amazing visuals and marvelous leaps of imagination stands as yet another fine addition to the man's catalog. If for no other reason, see this film to see a man whose head is a castle. It's magnificent.

3. Kung Fu Panda

The most beautiful film of the year, KUNG FU PANDA is filled with images so gorgeous they've adorned my desktop for months. I can't wait to see this one again on Blu-Ray.

4. Leatherheads

What a pleasure enjoy two hours of snappy dialogue delivered by sharp, charismatic performers. This movie came out of nowhere to take me by very pleasant surprise.

5. Speed Racer

Come to think of it, I think I did see the Star Child appear during that final race.

6. The Dark Knight

Everything people have been saying about Ledger's performance is true. His Joker is haunting and queasily funny and absolutely unforgettable.

7. In Bruges

A dark, sad comedy about honor and loss and redemption and responsibility. I finally get the hype about Colin Farrell.

8. Cloverfield

Ok, so it made two of the guys I went with throw up. Or maybe that was just the pre-film tequila shots. Whatever the reason, CLOVERFIELD made that which is old new again.  It did so by making it very scary, the way it was when it was old.

9. Iron Man

In the words of Jim Beaver, I'd watch Robert Downey, Jr. sand his baseboards. He's got his charisma dialed up to 11 in this one, and Jeff Bridges and Gwyneth Paltrow dial it right up with him. What a fun time at the movies.

10. You Don't Mess with the Zohan

I laughed all the way through this silly, over the top comedy. I expected it rough and raucous, but was pleasantly surprised by silky smooth.

THE WORST

10. Bangkok Dangerous

Great location work and immersion in one of the world's most inviting cultures can't save a by-the-numbers crime show about a guy with bad hair extensions and the cipher who loves him.

9. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

Up yours. My treasure is a golden idol on a pressure sensitive pedestal.

8. Incredible Hulk

This movie felt too knowing, too cynical, too not-fun. Give me Josh Lucas in freeze frame fireball any day of the week.

7. Star Wars: Clone Wars

If I wanted to watch the pilot for some cartoon aimed at my kid, I'd tune into Cartoon Network.

6. Horton Hears a Who

This film adds absolutely nothing to the book, leaving audience members who already know the volume absolutely nowhere to go.

5. The Forbidden Kingdom

A moderately bad wuxia picture killed by its framing story and a black hole of a leading character. At least Yifei Liu is very good at standing around and looking pretty.

4. Death Race

How do you make a movie called DEATH RACE, then fail to show your audience who's racing, who's dying, and why?

3. Space Chimps

I don't know how to work "chimp" into "sucked," so I'll quote my original review: it's chimpdiculous.

2. The Foot Fist Way

It took me two attempts to get through this hateful movie that finds comedy in humiliation. I shouldn't have made the effort.

1. Mamma Mia

MAMMA MIA's a great big party, but I wasn't invited. I made four attempts to get through this one, and couldn't last more than a few minutes each time. It's as if it was made by and for people from another planet.

Transsiberian

You know what makes TRANSSIBERIAN such a good thriller? It's a thriller about decisions.

Emily Mortimer and Woody Harrelson decide to take the Transsiberian rail line across Northern Asia rather than just fly. Kata Mara and Eduardo Noriega decide to take the train for reasons of their own, as does Ben Kingsley. And then paths start crossing and recrossing and people make decisions that seem right at the time and before you know it there's blood and hash and suspicion and paranoia everywhere you look. It's a train wreck.

And it's a train wreck that keeps surprising us, that keeps us guessing, that delights in winding us up as much as we delight in the winding.

This is excellent stuff, and Emily Mortimer deserves much of the credit for its success. Cowriter and director Brad Anderson had intended to cast Samantha Morton in the lead role, but that (fine) actress suffered an accident and had to bug out at the last minute. What luck that Mortimer was available and willing to step in, because
she displays a range so complete that she takes us on a psychology journey that's dazzling in its scope without once letting us see the craft behind the artistry.

Buying this film's protagonist makes the thriller possible, because we root for her every step of the way. When the movie turns up the heat on her, it turns it up on us. And when it finally backs off, well then, whammo. The best is yet to come.

The Tall T

Actor, writer, and all-around great guy Jim Beaver turned me on to THE TALL T. After seeing the film, I found that I couldn't add much to his comments, so I asked if I could reprint his review. Being the all-around great guy that he is, Jim gave me the go ahead. So, here's Jim Beaver on THE TALL T:

My third favorite Western is, like SEVEN MEN FROM NOW, a Budd Boetticher/Randolph Scott collaboration: THE TALL T. It's from an Elmore Leonard story and while it's an apparently simple good guys/bad guys movie, it resonates with me wonderfully.

Scott is the protagonist, of course, minding his own business as a rancher. He has a delightful bantering relationship with a stage driver played by Arthur Hunnicutt (Oscar-nominated a few years earlier for THE BIG SKY). It seems sort of leisurely until Richard Boone and his two dim-but-dangerous cohorts show up and commit what must have been (and even now still is) a shocking act of violence. Also caught in the whirlpool thus created are Maureen O'Sullivan, playing her age (or greater) as the plain(!) daughter of the local rich guy, and John Hubbard as the cad who married her for her money.

Burt Kennedy's script is tight, with wonderful dialog lifted straight from Leonard's story. (About O'Sullivan, Hunnicutt says, "She was scheduled to be an old maid, till Willard come along." A bad guy talks about about a pretty girl he once knew: "She was wild as mountain scenery." Another heavy is asked his age. His answer: "I don't know. Young, mostly.") The complexity (surprising in a 78-minute movie) comes mostly from the relationship between good guy Scott and bad guy Boone. Boone is drawn to Scott, almost yearning to have someone of Scott's intelligence and breeding in his life, instead of the scum he travels with. It's a fascinating angle on the white hat/black hat tradition.

THE TALL T has only been available infrequently on TV till lately, or in lousy 16mm prints. But Sony is releasing all the Columbia Boetticher/Scott films (of the seven films of the collaboration, only WESTBOUND and SEVEN MEN FROM NOW were for other studios) sometime soon. It's about time. THE TALL T is a small film, with nothing resoundingly profound about it, but I think it's one of the best Westerns ever made.

The Dark Knight

I went into THE DARK KNIGHT skeptically, wondering whether the ballyhoo surrounding Ledger's performance was justified or sentimental. It was justified.

The Joker, as written in this film, is a high wire character. The actor who plays him will either fail or succeed spectacularly, and Ledger succeeds. His Joker is terrifying and sad and sickly funny and wholly compelling, the Joker by which other incarnations of the character will be judged. As for Batman and Gordon and Dent and Dawes, well, they're all fine, but the fact is that I can barely remember them. That Joker, though, he gives me the shivers. And not in a good way. From voice to mannerisms to makeup to worldview, he's a complete character, one who espouses chaos while wreaking it through meticulous planning; one whose backstory shifts and morphs with each retelling; one you can't put your finger on, but who stays with you.

Wow, what a performance. What a movie. I look forward to seeing THE DARK KNIGHT again.

Hancock

What if Superman had poor social skills?

What if he had no social skills? What if he was a drunk, an outcast? What would a world like that look like?

Well, I don't know what that kind of world would look like, but I know that that kind of pitch looks like: a winner. Cast Will Smith as the Superman manque, and now we're talking sure-fire winner. HANCOCK works because Smith is the kind of movie star we love even when he's playing the jerk: the kind of guy we know will come around in the end. And who better to bring him around than Jason Bateman, perhaps the world's finest straight man, and Bateman's "Arrested Development" costar Charlize Theron?

Granted, this is not the kind of movie that'll change your life, but HANCOCK doesn't aspire to be. It aims for big, pulpy entertainment in the "Astro City" vein, and it hits its mark. Good work, Mr. Berg.

Tropic Thunder

I didn't so much as smile at any point in TROPIC THUNDER's run time. The whole enterprise felt like a labored, inside baseball comedy for the kind of people who laugh really hard at blooper reels. At no time did I feel like any of the characters were, on any level, actual people, and the child actor who played the villain was such a one-note performer that I found him to be quite distracting.

This film, a film that appeared to want to deflate vanities, felt like a vanity project. I don't ever need to see it again.

The Pineapple Express

THE PINEAPPLE EXPRESS left me cold. The characters seemed to come from another planet, the action beats felt ridiculously odd, and the comedy set pieces left me flat. While James Franco does, indeed, act his ass off, I never saw the comedy in his interactions with Rogen.

There's just nothing funny here. Two stoners bumbling through a deadly adventure could be funny, I suppose, but the stakes are too high and the comedy not high enough. I spent the film wondering if it would have worked better as a Cheech 'N Chong movie. Do you think they could have saved it?

Get Smart

GET SMART is a formulaic comedy based on a television series I can barely remember. It also happens to be laugh-out-loud funny.

It's not even that GET SMART is particularly well written. It's just particularly well delivered. Steve Carell is perfect as Smart, the bumbling yet oddly capable analyst who finally gets to be a field agent. He plays the character as a man in tight control of his emotions, but who's always just one cone of silence away from gut-bursting joy. Anne Hathaway is, well, Anne Hathaway, upon whom I now formally bestow the title of Can Do No Wrong. She's tough and vulnerable and funny and dazzling and just a pleasure to watch. Dwayne Johnson is one of those guys who's good in whatever he's in, and his sense of comic timing gets better with each outing. Terry "President Camacho" Crews dials it down (for him) and finds just the right volume, and his partner David Koechner has the "laughable jerk" thing down to a science. And then there's Alan Arkin, the Chief, whose deadpan delivery anchors the production and allows it to soar.

The villains are duly villainous without ever being truly threatening, the third act shift into action territory works quite well, and the whole thing kept DB and me amused throughout. GET SMART is slick Hollywood comedy done right. Color me pleasantly surprised.

Mongol

MONGOL does almost everything I want a movie to do: it takes us to a different time, a different place, and a different culture. It educates and entertains, and it does so by giving us interesting people living in interesting time. I invested in the film's hero, Temudjin, and his family. I wanted them to overcome the odds against them and emerge victorious, and I was happy when they did so. (Hey, it's a biopic. They don't make biopics about people who get killed in their teens. Surely, that can't count as a spoiler.)

However, MONGOL does one thing I never want a movie to do: it makes me scratch my head and wonder, "What were they thinking?" Why does the film show us a young Tamudjin falling through the ice on a frozen lake, yet never shows us his escape? Why does the film go to such lengths to underline the brutality and unrelenting nature of his (one-time) captors, only to give us an (apparently) magical deliverance and expect us to believe the captors simply lost interest in him? Why does a movie that expects us to accept that Tamudjin can survive upwards of four years in a tiny cage also expect us to believe that he can emerge from that cage ready to fight, climb, run, and love? Why do the filmmakers go out of their way to explain that Tamudjin wins his climactic battle through strategy, then show us only the first phase of the strategy before turning to what can only be considered divine intervention?

Now, I'm not normally one for head scratchers. I'm willing to go along with what a movie has to give me. But these omissions and errors blew my suspension of disbelief. While MONGOL is a fine costume drama / National Geographic special, I think it could have benefited from one more pass at the writing table and the editing room. Perhaps the filmmakers will do better with the second film of this proposed trilogy of the life of Genghis Khan. I hope so, because I'll be there to see it.

Baby Mama

All right, here it is: BABY MAMA is laugh-out-loud funny.

Here's the setup: ridiculously hot Tina Fey is a career woman whose biological clock is ticking ... like ... this. Problem is, her doctor "doesn't like her uterus," and it looks like she'll never be able to carry a baby. Enter ridiculously hot (and surprisingly funny) Sigourney Weaver as Chafee Bicknell, proprietress of a first class surrogacy service. She matches rhTF with consistently funny Amy Poehler, whose white trash bonafides are cemented by her common-law marriage to ever entertaining Dax Shepard.

And away we go, in a class and culture and gender comedy that's consistently funny and perceptive. rhTF proves that not only can she sway an election, she can carry a movie. How much so? BABY MAMA features Steve Martin's best comedy work in years, and rhTF measures up to him in every frame. cfAP does great work with what could have been an elementary role, and eeDS and the rest of the supporting cast (including Maura Tierney, Romany Malco, Will Forte, Fred Armison, John Hodgeman, and the always likable Greg Kinnear as the love interest) are just plain first rate. The script casts a knowing comedic eye on pregnancy and love, and it manages to be simultaneously sharp, biting, and hilarious.

BABY MAMA is way funnier than I'd expected. It made me lose track of time and kept me chuckling right through the end credits. To those who were put off by the crass and dull trailer, be not deceived by the poor decisions of the marketing department. This picture is a winner.

The Strong Man

TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP is included on the DVD, "Harry Langdon: The Forgotten Clown," available from Netflix. The disc also features two Frank Capra -directed films, THE STRONG MAN and THE LONG PANTS. Yesterday, I saw THE STRONG MAN.

I generally like to take a movie head on. I try to view it, and write about it, on its own terms. But I'm having trouble thinking of Harry Langdon without thinking of the Big Three of silent comedy: Chaplin, Keaton, and Lloyd. As mentioned in my thoughts on TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP, Chaplin and Keaton both relied on physical virtuosity and precise planning in the execution of their films, while Lloyd seemed to put more stock in his charisma. Their efforts resulted in timeless films that haven't lost their ability to entertain generations later. Langdon, on the other hand, does not appear to have been particularly physically gifted. His set-pieces relied on editing and simple stagecraft to see them through. And the poor guy just wasn't as charismatic as he evidently thought he was. Seeing him mug his way through one situation after another isn't particularly amusing nor entertaining. Frankly, it's tiresome.

But hey, THE STRONG MAN gives you a chance to catch some early Capra.

The film opens with Langdon as a Belgian soldier on the Western Front. It's the strongest part of the piece, combining stock footage with character bits that establish the hapless Langdon as the little soldier who couldn't, really, but somehow managed to survive despite himself. Soon enough, the war is over, Langdon has emigrated to America, and Mary Astor is out to take advantage of him. But Langdon only has a heart for one girl, the American who sent him all those nice letters while he was at the front.

This Langdon is childlike, perhaps addled. As he blunders his way from one situation to the next on his path to his One True Love, we're invited to root for him, cry for him, laugh with him. Instead, we look at our watch. His character is so juvenile that we can't engage with him as a man, but he's too old for us to engage him as a boy. The set pieces don't amuse but do go on too long, and the whole thing just grinds.

Recommended for those interested in seeing Capra develop his craft; not many others.

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp

TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP stars Harry Langdon as the Harry Langdon character, a sad sack conveniently named Harry. In this incarnation, Harry's the son of a small town shoemaker who's losing out to shoe magnate John Burton. Burton's secret? A nationwide billboard campaign featuring his lovely daughter, Betty. When Burton dreams up a coast-to-coast walking race sponsored by his cobblery, Harry gets his big chance to enter the race. If he wins, not only does he get enough money to save Dad's business, he just might meet the Burton Shoes poster girl.

Never mind that Betty Burton is played by the terrifying Joan Crawford. The cross country race serves as a way too get our hero from one set piece to the next, though the pieces themselves work with varying degrees of success. Where Chaplin and Keaton could count on physical virtuosity (and meticulous planning) to execute their set pieces, Langdon relies on editing and charisma. When it comes to charisma, however, the guy's no Harold Lloyd. I never invested in Langdon's predicaments because I never invested in Langdon. Besides, how do you root for your hero to get the girl when the girl is dragon lady
Crawford?

For those looking to view this movie for some Crawfordish deliciousness, TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP is sadly lacking. She's your
generic love interest, falling for the star for no reason other than that he's the star.

TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP is a lesser silent comedy, one I'd recommend to Crawford completists and those interested in this era of film. To the general viewing audience, however, I say to give it a pass. There are better silents out there.

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS is the pilot episode for the new, animated, Clone Wars series showing on basic cable. How did it rate a theatrical release? Branding, baby. Branding.

Taken as a standalone product, SWCW is a run of the mill sci-fi themed adventure movie. It stars actors we like voicing characters we have no reason to like, embarked on an adventure in which we have no investment, facing peril we never doubt they'll overcome. But hey, it's Star Wars. People will pay money to see it.

Among those people include my 8-yr-old. I think he's on his fourth viewing. The Clone Wars period of the Star Wars story captures his imagination, and the "small person's" POV used when focusing on a new trainee's character appeals to him. Furthermore, the movie pops in HD, and its "cartoon marionette" aesthetic is surprisingly effective.

All in all, for a movie, STCW is a good tv show for kids. Don't expect much more than that.

Hairspray

I sat down in front of HAIRSPRAY with my arms crossed. I was not in the mood for a musical. Two hours later, HAIRSPRAY had me tapping my foot and put a big smile on my face.

HAIRSPRAY is an energetic, colorful, lively, and fun musical that overcomes its jarring elements and delivers a first-rate entertainment experience.

So, let's talk about the jarring elements. First, there's John Travolta. Yeah, the guy's a hell of a dancer (if you can dance in a fat suit and sell it, then buddy, you can dance). But his Baltimore accent was horrible and I never once believed he was anyone other than John Travolta dragged up in a fat suit. Second, there's Christopher Walken. Frankly, I'm tired of Walken's playing against type in comic roles. Creep me out again, Chris! Third, there's the aggressive cheerfulness of the production itself. It's like one of those kids shows that knocks itself out trying to convince its audience how much gosh-darn fun its having.

But enough of that. James Marsden cements his position as one of the most fun to watch young actors working today. Michelle Pfieffer, in her second "wicked witch" role in recent memory has always been one of the most fun to watch actresses in the business. Nikki Blonsky is delightful as the lead, and the whole thing rocks along with a wink and a smile and has so much gosh-darn fun that you can't help but wink and smile along.

What a pleasant surprise.

Mamma Mia!

I took three runs at MAMMA MIA! I was stuck in coach on a transpacific flight in one of those old 747s, the kind with one screen up near the front of the cabin of which you can only see about half. I actually wanted to see this movie because I like Greece, I like the cast, and I liked MURIEL'S WEDDING, which also pushed the Abba.

I made it about thirty seconds in the first musical number before I pulled my headphone jack out of the armrest. But everyone looked they were having such a good time, and the island looked so pretty, that I plugged back in for one of Meryl Streep's numbers, just so I could hear her sing. I think I lasted 45 seconds through "Dancing Queen." Yank.

Then Pierce Brosnan opened his mouth in what appeared to be agony. I plugged back in for his number. I lasted perhaps a full minute that time, but I was done.

MAMMA MIA! is like being dragged to your mom's kaffee klatch during spring break. It's like going along with your wife on a "lunch with the girls" so she can share a part of her life with you. It's like being forced to listen to your sister cry over her latest breakup as you, she, and a friend of hers drive down an interminable highway. If you're a guy, you don't belong. You know you don't belong. Everyone's trying to make you feel like you do belong, but everyone knows you just plain don't. Especially you.

So don't go along. If you're a man, this movie is worse than PLAN NINE FROM OUTER SPACE. It's worse than STEALTH. It's worse than DEATH RACE 2000. Tell your mom to have fun at the kaffee klatch. Tell your wife you'll be having beer and wings with the guys. Tell your sister to drop you off anywhere and tell someone to send water.

Just don't subject yourself to this.

Quantum of Solace

QUANTUM OF SOLACE is an action movie whose action sequences are so incomprehensible as to be outright boring. Seriously. Whoever directed and edited these sequences are terrible at their jobs, utterly unable to string together something so simple as a fistfight without a hundred jump cuts and reaction shots that, at times, had me
wondering who was hitting whom.

The story's fine, I suppose - it's a mystery wrapped in a revenge thriller, with plenty of granola-eating throwaways for the Guilty Hollywood crowd (The next time I hear someone complain about "the corporations," I'm gonna throw my Nerf brick at the screen.). But I didn't care because not only did I not know what was going on, it
became apparent that this iteration of Bond has no fear of death. How can we thrill to the courageous exploits of a man who doesn't need courage because his wiring's screwed up?

Yeah, QUANTUM OF SOLACE is loud and lots of stuff blows up and Bond outflies a fighter in a DC-3, but it just doesn't work. Maybe if I knew what was going on.

Bangkok Dangerous

Since every beat of BANGKOK DANGEROUS is predictable and everything happens on schedule, your enjoyment of the film will hinge upon how much you like Nick Cage and how much you like Thailand.

I like Nic Cage. I like Thailand. I like 'em so much that I overlooked the fact that BANGKOK DANGEROUS is not a very good movie and had a good time, anyway. Yeah, this is the kind of movie in which the hardened criminal kicks things off by telling you his rules of the game. That's just so you'll know exactly which rules he'll break on his way to redemption. And oh, yeah, it's the kind of movie in which the hardened criminal repeats the rules as he's about to break them, in case you walked in late or have poor short-term memory. And yep, it's the kind of movie in which the love interests don't say anything, making them empty vessels for the romantic fantasies of the (young male) target audience.

But it has lots o' great location shooting in the Land of Smiles, lots of stuff blows up real good, and Cage does that thing where he's holding a pistol in each hand and blasting away, a firing technique guaranteed to ensure that the shooter couldn't hit the sky if he were aiming at it. Of course, this is extra fun because Nic Cage is just not a dangerous guy. I don't care how silly his wig is or many weights he lifts - there's something about the guy that communicates that the worst thing he could possibly do to you is shark your wave or bogart your joint. I don't mind - Thailand looks great, the local talent is very talented, and the movie even surprised me when it came to the damsel.

You Don't Mess with the Zohan

YOU DON'T MESS WITH THE ZOHAN is a shocking movie. It's actually funny.

I know, I know. It shouldn't be. The ads made it look like a vanity piece for a suddenly insecure Adam Sandler. It prominently features Rob Schneider. It's vulgar.

But, hey, the first act has several laugh-out-loud moments. The second act is strangely sweet. And when the third act realizes its jokes are getting old, it blows up a lot of stuff real good. Oh, and did I mention John Turturro?

Here's the hook: Zohan is an Israeli superdupersoldier. He tires of fighting, fakes his own death, and moves to America to follow his dream of becoming a hairdresser. From there, the movie is kind of a gentle rehash of COMING TO AMERICA, with equal helpings cultural and sexual humor. Here's the surprise: Sandler actually sells it, making this his funniest picture since THE WATERBOY. His Zohan is confident and insecure, sweet and vulgar, a whole lotta fun.

And Turturro, as his Palestinian nemesis The Phantom, is utterly unhinged. Here's the thing about Turturro: he can be a fine, nuanced actor in stuff like THE LUZHIN DEFENSE; he can also roll into high caricature and chew scenery with the best of them. Here, he's in full caricature mode, creating an antagonist so silly that every moment on screen feels like a great time.

I was not expecting to enjoy YOU DON'T MESS WITH THE ZOHAN, but I'm glad I fired it up. What a pleasant surprise.

Red Eye

RED EYE is a clockwork thriller, carefully plotted and shorn of fat. While some of the elements it uses to generate tension were utterly lost on me (Oooh, turbulence!), Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams are sufficiently interesting people to carry a fim on their faces alone. And just when it goes over the top in the third act and you're ready
to throw your Nerf brick at the screen, here comes Robert Pine (Sgt. Getraer from CHiPs, but hey, you knew that) to lend a little goodwill.

Sure, it's forgettable. Sure, it's a throwaway. But it's a well-made throwaway. I liked it.

Body of Lies

The most arresting sequence in BODY OF LIES, Ridley Scott's latest film, focuses on Russell Crowe's Ed Hoffman, a rumpled CIA division director. Crowe is at home, writing a paper by speaking into a dictaphone, carefully crafting an argument about the nature of Islamic terrorism, the gravity of the threat, and the means necessary to combat it. The scene shifts to Crowe speaking the words to two sharply-dressed political types - he wasn't writing a paper, he was rehearsing a talk. He's wearing a "visitor" badge. The politicos look bored and annoyed that he's taking up their time. He's laying it all out, clearly and concisely. He sees another politico enter the room and he makes a quick exit while the people he'd waylaid sit up, smile, and focus on the newcomer.

Crowe is America's leading expert on Islamic terrorism, and the only way he can get a meeting with high-level decisionmakers is to barge in on their schedules, piss them off, and disappear.

The sequence is brilliant because it puts everything else about the film into perspective. All the punishment Leonardo DiCaprio's CIA operative takes, all the low-level politicking between American and Jordanian intelligence, all the death - it's back page stuff; the big dogs have other bones to gnaw.

But what is happening on that back page, anyway? BODY OF LIES is the first GWOT espionage thriller, and it's a fine piece of storytelling in the best traditions of the genre. It features intricate plots and counterplots, players of various levels of trustworthiness, dangerous love, courage, and cowardice. Its local touches feel authentic, and it has the courage to understand that it may not be the most important thing happening in the world.

I liked this movie; I liked it alot. It had everything I could ask for in an espionage thriller, and its creators are top-flight talent. Even if it is about back-page stuff.

Death Race

There are some actors out there who are in it for the paycheck. There are some who are in it solely to explore their art. There are some who explore their art when they can and take the paycheck when they must.

I guess Joan Allen had bills to pay.

I'm tempted to write that DEATH RACE is a bad, bad movie. Its races are incomprehensible agglomerations of gunfire, explosions, and quick-cuts that left me utterly mystified. When a movie's ostensibly about racing, even death racing, shouldn't one be able to tell who's in the lead, or even what's going on, without a ranking board popping up every now and then? Ms. Allen has a climactic outburst of villainy that was so ridiculous I nearly laughed. And don't get me started on the crime to Robin Shou's hair that this film represents.

But 40-year-olds with colds who can't muster the energy to do more than see a bad movie are not the target demographic of this particular film. The target demographic of this particular film is males aged 15-25. I saw this movie at an on-base movie theater at a naval airfield in Japan. The crowd was 100% male, and I'm pretty sure I was twice the age of the next-oldest guy there.

They loved it.

They cheered the explosions. They laughed at the comical kills. They howled at the pretty women. They hooted at the dialogue. Man, they ate DEATH RACE up. It was like their favorite video game come to life. On the way out, they chatted and laughed and high-fived and generally went home happy.

So, hey, if you're a 15-25 year old guy, you'll probably love DEATH RACE. If not, well, you'd better have one hell of a cold.

Xanadu

Sometimes, a guy's just gotta groove to some ELO-influenced roller disco entertainment.

XANADU is that, of course, but it's also more: it's the pinnacle of the roller disco genre. It's tacky, it's loud, it's far too bright, and it raises more questions than it answers. It also features Gene Kelly's last dance performance in a feature film, clever switches between animation and live action, and more raucous, self-delighted performance than you can shake a skate at. This is the kind of movie that features tightrope walkers because - why the hell not? It's the kind of movie that gives you nine muses, none of whom look remotely Greek. It's the kind of movie that thinks going over the top isn't going far enough.

Yeah, there's a plot about an artist who is in danger of losing his inspiration and an old-timer in danger of forgetting his. They're saved through the twin powers of Olivia Newton-John and roller disco, a potent combination if ever there was one. But that's not the reason to see the movie. The reason to see the movie, or at least to fast forward through the dialogue so you can get to the production numbers, is to watch an aging Gene Kelly demonstrate that he has more rhythm in his little finger than Olivia Newton-John has in her entire body. It's such a pleasure to watch this guy do his thing, even if he isn't as acrobatic as he once was, that you can't possibly regret sitting down with this picture for at least twenty minutes. What's more, there are zoot-suit dancers, carhop dancers, and even early breakdancers.

All that, plus ELO. Plus roller disco. What's not to love?

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

I enjoyed the hell out of SWEENEY TODD.

This film was my first exposure to the story, and I admit that I went into the picture not expecting to like it. My tastes run to the bright and cheery, frankly, and this stuff is pretty dire. But it works. It works because Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, even under all their makeup, infuse the proceedings with a compelling, dark humanity. It works because of top notch supporting performances. And it works because Tim Burton creates a world, and a worldview, so complete that we can enter into it and live there for a while, even if we don’t care to live there much longer than a couple of hours.

Johnny Depp, a strong contender for Can Do No Wrong status, is Todd, a man with vengeance in his heart. I knew Depp could do vengeance (Hell, I knew he could accomplish most any acting task set before him.), but I didn’t know he could sing. His numbers, and his performance of those numbers, enhance his character and entertain – he’s just great here. Helena Bonham Carter, an actress to whom I’ve always found it difficult to warm, is just right, as well. She’s creepy and off and fascinating and, what do you know, she can sing, too.

As for the supporting work, well, look at this cast: Alan Rickman (CDNW), Timothy Spall, and Sacha Baron Cohen (a performer whose stock keeps rising, in my book), among others. Rickman, of course, Can Do No Wrong. Spall is taking too many “slimy guy” roles, but he’s mighty good at them, and who knew Cohen could sing? Even as I recognized their faces, I bought their roles.

And Burton, well, he’s Burton. He creates films that come fully alive in their self-contained worlds, and his choice of palette and scene here is spot on for the material.

This is a successful film, and a damn fine entertaining one. Color me pleased.

The Foot Fist Way

THE FOOT FIST WAY is the kind of film that invites us to spend an hour and a half laughing at, not with, its characters as they endure one uncomfortable and embarrassing situation after another.

I found it to be mean-spirited, hateful, and accusatory. I shut it off after forty-five minutes of stone-faced, arms folded indignation. I can’t imagine why anyone would write, direct, produce, or star in this picture, and I can’t imagine why anyone would recommend it to anyone else, unless they didn’t like their target.

Avoid this film. The world is a worse place for its existence.

The Miracle of Morgan's Creek

THE MIRACLE OF MORGAN’S CREEK, a Preston Sturges picture from 1943, is laugh-out-loud funny. It offers a combination of verbal and physical comedy that’s irresistible, and it’s served up with verve.

THE MIRACLE OF MORGAN’S CREEK is pretty sophisticated stuff for a post-Code, war-era comedy. A girl in an Army town goes out for a big night at the farewell bash for a bunch of new recruits headed off to war. Weeks later, she has vague memories of possibly having married some guy named, um, Ratzkywatzky, ?, and definite proof that she’s pregnant. What is a pregnant minor to do? Well, if her mother’s the governor, mom finds the son of a bitch and gets ‘em hitched after forcing ‘em to smile for the national television cameras. But what if her father is just a lowly constable? She finds a patsy.

And away we go, with sputtering fathers, stuttering patsies, and enough slapstick to make it all go down smoothly. Betty Hutton is winning as Trudy Kockenlocker, the girl in question, and Diana Lynn is utterly delightful as the sister who’s younger in years but older in the heart and head. William Demarest, as the father who is no match for his daughters, is a master of bluff paternalism and the expert pratfall, and Eddie Bracken, as the hapless patsy, is simply delightful.

The more I think about this movie, the more I like it. THE MIRACLE OF MORGAN’S CREEK is a wonderful time at the movies.

The Mist

THE MIST wrung me out. This is a scary, exciting, depressing, and fulfilling movie that did not get the love it deserved.

The film, based on a Stephen King novella from _Skeleton Crew_, is a variation on one of King’s favorite themes: a group of people are trapped in an extraordinary, possibly supernatural, situation. The rules of civilization bend and snap, and we’re witnesses to our own best and worst selves.

Sure, there are monsters and gore effects and all that sort of thing, but THE MIST is really Lord of the Flies in a supermarket. While some folks may be put off by the film’s religious and political positions, it isn’t the positions themselves that matter so much as where the picture goes with them. THE MIST has a bleak view of humanity, it seems, but it also believes in the potential for nobility. I enjoyed its exploration of those ideas as much as I did the visceral fear, adventure, and desolation it had on offer; for I knew that those emotions were emotions in a box, feelings I could sample for a while, then put away. But what I can’t put away are some of the ideas of THE MIST, particularly the one about the fragility of civilization and the human compact. I don’t agree with its position, because I consistently see people at their best when things are at their worst, but the film does offer rich food for thought, nonetheless.

The Naked Spur

Somewhere along the way, I picked up the notion that there was a twist ending to THE NAKED SPUR. There is, but not the in the way I thought. It’s a twist so much more engaging than anything I’d have imagined that it elevates the picture from merely good to damn good. Unfortunately, it also makes the film nearly impossible to write about.

I will write that the cinematography is not particularly fascinating and the music is grating, relentlessly telling us what to think and how to feel. Mid-career Jimmy Stewart is fine, as always, and the supporting cast does its job well enough that no one struck me as a “favor cast.”

But the real credit here goes writers Sam Rolfe and Harold Bloom, who fashion a story that appears straightforward, but gets more and more complex as things develop. By the end, even though I knew this was a Western of a certain era, I had no idea how things were going to turn out. And that twist, wow. This movie took me by surprise.

The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle

THE ADVENTURES OF ROCKY & BULLWINKLE represents either a career low for Robert DeNiro and Rene Russo or a fun, silly jaunt for kids that should be taken as it was intended. I’m inclined to go with the former, but my kids would select the latter.

Here’s the deal: an ambitious young studio executive wants to helm her first movie, but every script she sees is too intelligent. Then, someone pitches her a live-action film based on the old “Rocky & Bullwinkle” cartoons, and she’s ready to sign. But there’s a catch: the pitchers are cartoon villains, and the hook is that they’re ready to come into the real world and wreak havoc. And so it is that DeNiro, as Fearless Leader, Rene Russo as Natasha, and Jason Alexander as Boris find corporeal form. And it isn’t long after that Rocky & Bullwinkle, rendered in a level of CGI somewhere below that of the SCOOBY-DOO films, enter the picture to save the day.

But why am I wasting time setting up the plot? It only exists as a vehicle for sight gags, self-consciously bad puns, and general purpose silliness that had me checking my watch and both my boys delighted. This movie wasn’t made with me in mind, but I respect its dedication to kid-friendly humor and its willingness to throw jokes at the wall and see what sticks.

Do I want to see the once-great Robert DeNiro waste his time with stuff like this? Not really, but I still respect the guy’s willingness to go with the cheesy joke even while I grimace at perversions of some of his signature moments. But hey, he didn’t make this movie with me in mind. And he did entertain the hell out of my kids, which made it possible for me to get some chores done around the house. Rather than criticize the man for his involvement in ROCKY & BULLWINKLE, perhaps I should be thanking him.

The Forbidden Kingdom

So, here's the setup: a young man believes that there must be more to life than he's seeing. In fact, he lives in something of a fantasy world. While trying to impress a girl, he's shown up and knocked around by the local bully. Through a mechanism of the plot, he's transported to a magical realm where he has many adventures, fins love, and becomes a man. He returns to his own world, knocks around the bully, and claims his manhood.

Man, wasn't STARDUST a great picture?

But we aren't here to talk about STARDUST. We're here to talk about THE FORBIDDEN KINGDOM. In THE FORBIDDEN KINGDOM, the mundane bully is so vicious and such a bad actor that he sucks all the fun out of the movie before it can even properly get underweigh (That's how it should be spelled, dammit. The phrase comes from "weighing anchor," not "waying anchor."). Granted, there's a dream sequence of Jet Li doing a fun Monkey King, but I'm tellin' ya, that framing story erased the goodwill the bit earned. Even if it was set in hardscrabble South Boston.

OK, so the framing story sucks. But what about the adventures in the magical realm? I started that part with my arms crossed, wondering why a Jackie Chan / Jet Li teamup even needed a white guy. But then Jackie showed and busted out the "drunken boxing" moves he hadn't used since his last movie with fight choreographer Yuen Woo-Ping, DRUNKEN MASTER II (a film which, by the way, I discovered through the Balcony back in the '90s). So forget about the framing story. Forget about the white guy, even though he was the protagonist. Here was Jackie getting his DRUNKEN MASTER on! That's worth the price of admission, right there! Then Li showed up again, and we got what we came for: a Chan / Li battle, choreographed by Yuen.

Y'know what? I don't care if these guys are getting older and require more quick-cuts to mask their diminished athletic ability. They're still two of the very best, cinematographer Peter Pau (CTHD) is among the very best, and Yuen is the very best. That's worth your rental fee, right there.

Unfortunately, however, THE FORBIDDEN KINGDOM isn't an hour and a half of Chan and Li being awesome. It keeps having to make room for this extraneous white guy. Michael Angarano, whom I loved in SKY HIGH, is fine, but I just couldn't see a reason for his character other than marketing. Nor could I see a reason for Yifei Liu, the love interest, other than to have someone to stand around and look pretty. And someone tell Krrish that BingBing Li, as the Bride with White Hair, stole his fan.

This movie could have been great. It could have been awesome. It could have been, well, STARDUST with kung fu. But it's worth renting only if you're a fan of the genre, and even then it's worth renting only for the genre elements. Let's hope that the next time Chan and Li team up, it's for a better project.

Bee Movie

BEE MOVIE is an abject failure.

Well, at least as far as I'm concerned. My 8-yr-old watched it twice. Just when I start to think I'm giving that kid a proper education.

Here's a movie with offputting animation, a dull story, and precisely zero funny lines. OK, there's one, but it was a lawyer joke that I couldn't even laugh at for fear my wife would slap an injunction on my butt. It's about a bee who gets a tryout with his hive's elite pollen gatherers, then goes on to become something of an insectoid César Chávez. Oh, and he also falls in love with a human woman, played by Renée Zellweger. Now, if there's one actress on Earth who can sell a woman falling in love with a bee, it's Zellweger. But I still couldn't buy it.

BEE MOVIE does have one thing going for it, and that's Ray Liotta. But not even he can smear enough honey on this picture to make it sweet. Pass this one by.

Talk to Me

Don Cheadle is one of the great actors of our time.

In DEVIL IN A BLUE DRESS, he did the impossible: he stole a movie from Denzel Washington. His character, Mouse Alexander, was so smart, so evil, so good, that I couldn't see the man's face for years without wondering whether he had murder on his mind. That film, made in 1995, brought Cheadle to my attention. But this has been his decade. From the cockney safecracker Bashar Tarr in the OCEAN'S movies to the one of the few things about CRASH to the understated, brave, and noble Paul Rusesabagina in HOTEL RWANDA, here's a guy who showed he can do almost anything. But nothing prepared me for Petey Greene.

If I hadn't known that was Don Cheadle under that costume, I never would have guessed it. Cheadle disappears into the role, thinking and talking faster than anyone else in the film or the audience, a man using his raw intelligence and amazing audacity to overcome nearly every obstacle put in his way. Cheadle as Greene is a force of nature, his performance nothing short of brilliant.

I came to this film through an interview with Chiwetel Ejiofor that I read on CHUD. Ejiofor was promoting RED BELT at the time, but he mentioned this as one film of which he was particularly proud. I can see why. Ejiofor plays the audience surrogate, real-life WOR program director Dewey Hughes, the man who gave the real-life Petey his job. I've already said that Ejiofor is an absolutely outstanding performer himself, and here he has the judgement and confidence to get out of Cheadle's way. Director Kasi Lemmons (who made the wonderful EVE'S BAYOU) knows what she's doing here, and she builds a film around this performance that puts us in its time and in its people's hearts in a way that few pictures manage to do.

I don't care if you don't like soul music. I don't care if you don't care about the black experience in the '60s. I don't even care if you aren't a fan of Cheadle, Ejiofor, or Lemmons. You're here because you like movies. And if you like movies, you have got to see Cheadle on fire in TALK TO ME. Queue this one up today.

Seven Men from Now

My understanding of narrative goes something like this: a protagonist changes and grows over the course of a story. By riding along with this protagonist, we change and grow, as well.

The protagonist doesn't change and grow over the course of SEVEN MEN FROM NOW. In fact, one could argue that nobody changes and grows over the course of Bud Boetticher's SEVEN MEN FROM NOW, although a total of twelve men do stop growing altogether. But it's still one hell of a story.

Seven men walked in to the Wells Fargo office in Silver Spring. They walked out with one box of gold in their hands and one dead woman on the floor. Randolph Scott was married to that woman, and Randolph Scott saddled up and went hunting. The movie begins with the hunter finding his first prey, and it's full-bore revenge fantasy from there on out. It's got a stoic and unstoppable hero, villains both noble and ignoble, Indians, cavalry, settlers in a stagecoach, and some of the finest practical stuntwork you're likely to see in a film of its or any other generation.

This is a tight, lean narrative that knows exactly what it's about and exactly how it's going to get there. Scott and Lee Marvin (as the noble villain) are near-perfect adversaries, and the settler family caught between them like pieces on a chessboard provide a humanizing "in" to their conflict. This film is 78 minutes of flat-out adventure, and I don't care if Scott winds up the same man he was when he set out. I was just happy to ride with him for a while.

PS One of my childhood influences was a retired stuntman. Watching this film's professionally exact horse falls, horse charges, cliff falls, fights, and gunfights made me nostalgic for the days he'd tell stories of working on these kinds of pictures. I love my job, but if I had to pick another, I'd have loved to be a stuntman during the golden age of westerns. In fact, one of my fondest memories is of the time I directed an entry in Calico Ghost Town's stunt show competition. We won that year. So maybe SEVEN MEN FROM NOW really stinks, and I just loved it because it granted me 78 minutes of golden reverie. It doesn't matter. As far as I'm concerned, this is a great movie.