As is wont of so many movies these days, the film Sherlock Holmes – starring Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law – is a physical take on an old theme. At least that is what the trailer is displaying at this moment.
I find it odd that one of the more classic and noted intellectuals of literary work has now become a brawling less thinking more ordinary hero in the hands of Guy Ritchie. I suppose that in this “revisioning” of the character is targeted to the Hollywood mentality that explosions beat thought. Or they just want to draw more younger fans that have never seen a movie based on this character let alone ever read a book about him.
My questions about the film all lie in the depiction the trailer presents and Guy Ritchie. They seem to be emphasizing the many notable flaws that Sherlock Holmes certainly has, and downplaying the deductive reasoning that made the character a master detective. Which is a real letdown.
Of course I have to mention that the accent by Robert Downey Jr. appears to be less than convincing, which is a surprise. In the past Sherlock has always had the distinctive British accent one would expect from an Englishman. But Downey is very American, and his accent betrays a weakness in the portrayal. I would hope it was just that the scenes selected were less important and not a complete picture of the accent employed. Not that many scenes in the movie trailer are speaking scenes.
Guy Ritchie tends to focus on the physical in his movies. He likes the ferocity of combat, and the motion of chaos as I have observed (which is hardly a complete vision of all his films). Thus I expect that much of what makes Holmes indelible will be lost due to no fault of the actors. How modern movie audiences will react is hard to say.
This is a period piece film. Yet the movie trailer flows more like a Dark Knight video clip than you would imagine. You can almost feel a Batmobile ready to pop out of a street corner.
I am comparing this a lot to the latest Batman revisioning. Not because I dislike the Christian Bale version (other than the Joker) but because it too generally ignores the deductive though and detective work (basically all the thinking of the character), replacing them with action. It works well, and audiences like it, but that does not mean that the character is being given the full depth it can have.
Thus I see Sherlock Holmes in a similar manner under the guidance of Ritchie. Bravado and flash, daring do vs. understanding of the situation. It can work well, and be a good film. But somehow I see Law and Downey being under used for such a film.
This is of course the first trailers for the film. This is a tease and as such we cannot be really sure what the actual film will comprise. But we can be sure there is a bit of titillation for the ladies, and action for the guys. Lots of on location scenes, and a bit of the classic British flare. But will there be a mind to the film, a piece of the soul found in the books? Maybe the next set of trailers will tell.
So until we can see more, I think this will be a decent film. I think it will do well in the box office. It will be worth the time spent in the theater, and for many that’s all that matter in the end.
There is no question that video games are the wave of the future. The industry has steadily moved to become one of the leading forms of entertainment, and massively multiplayer online games have a firm grip in forging that path. But what will the future bring?
That is the question posed in the upcoming film Gamer. This is basically a revised mix of the Running Man and Death Race (or Death Race 2000 if you are younger and did not see the original).
From the trailer we are sure of a couple of things. First is the fact that there will be enough explosions for any action movie or video game fan. Based on the reaction to Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen that should be enough to garner $100 million in the box office.
Of course there is a lose plot to the movie. The lead is Kable (Gerard Butler) who is most likely a wrongly convicted criminal (aren’t they always) who is brought into the game – called Slayer – to draw attention. It is highly likely that Kable has a wife and child, is a former military hero of some distinction, and is never supposed to see freedom again.
Somehow the convicts are implanted with devices that allows a gameplayer to takeover the body of the convict and control how they act, with some input from the convict direct to the player. This is all televised as well. Does this sound familiar?
Inevitably Kable is helped along in the game by Freek (John Leguizamo – been a while since he was in a major movie), and in trying to escape the corrupt system by Ludacris (don’t know his character’s name – though he seems to be trying to evade his rap image by going under his real name in the credits). Ken Castle (Michael C. Hall of Dexter fame) is of course the corrupt mastermind of the game and intent on ensuring that no one ever reaches the 30 wins that will free them of the game and prison. [I know we have heard this all before]
Keith David and Kyra Sedgwick both have small roles in the film as well. Don’t expect to see much of them though.
I think you can figure out the whole movie, because we have seen it before. It may well be too much to ask for a surprise ending, or a reasonable plot twist. But that does not mean the film cannot be worth the money.
The director of the film is Mark Neveldine. The name may not be familiar to everyone, but if you liked Crank and/or Crank: High Voltage then you have seen his work. Thus in this film you can expect lots of explosions, plenty of fast moving cut scenes, more than a few fist fights, and 5 minutes of slow moving plot to tie up the big questions. Neveldine is also the writer of this film as well as the Crank movies, so the plot will be basically flowing.
This looks like a decent big budget popcorn film. No Oscars of course, but still engaging enough for the likely 90 minutes it will run. The big question to this film is can it do the story we all know, with enough new scenes and explosions to draw the 18 – 35 video gamers they are targeting? Another question I wonder about is will the use of a rapper drag down the film, as they normally do, or has Chris Bridges (Ludacris) taken enough acting lessons to have his bit role justify the time he will be on screen?
Ultimately the answers will come in September when this film is slated to open.
When John Dillinger was shot outside the Biograph Theater in Chicago on a July night in 1934, Jack Lait of the International News service reported the event in the kind of pulpy prose that defined some of the day’s best journalism: “John Dillinger, ace bad man of the world, got his last night — two slugs through his heart and one through his head,” wrote Lait.
Lait went on to report an astonishing array of details surrounding Dillinger’s death. Souvenir hunters raced to the scene to dip newspapers and handkerchiefs in the bloody spot where Dillinger’s body had fallen. Dillinger, who robbed banks of thousands of dollars, had $7.70 in his pocket when he was shot. Dillinger’s fingertips had been dipped in acid so that he might elude identification. He’d also had a facelift, presumably for similar reasons.
I thought about Lait’s description of Dillinger — ace bad man of the world — while I watched “Public Enemies, ” director Michael Mann’s carefully crafted, richly designed look at Dillinger’s criminal career, beginning with his release from jail in 1933 and extending through that fateful night when Dillinger spent his final hours in the Biograph watching Clark Gable in “Manhattan Melodrama.” Gable played gangster Edward J. ‘Blackie’ Gallagher in a story about a couple of kids who found their destinies on separate paths. Gallagher led a life of crime. The other kid — William Powell’s James W. ‘Jim’ Wade — grew up to be a DA. It was a classic story: Two men from the same side of the tracks wound up on opposite sides of the legal fence.
In its own subdued way, Mann’s movie also follows two men: Dillinger (Johnny Depp) and the man charged with bringing him to justice, the FBI’s Melvin Purvis (Christian Bale). But this time the waters are muddied by ambiguity. Dillinger is as brutal as he is attractive, a man committed to living in the moment. And Purvis is too one-dimensional to be admirable.
Bale, an actor of scowling intensity, portrays Purvis as a man of keen focus. By way of contrast, Depp’s Dillinger sometimes allows his mind to wander, particularly when it comes to women. According to the movie, Dillinger fell head over heels for Billie Frechette (Marion Cotillard). He kept her picture in his pocket watch. It wasn’t Billie who betrayed Dillinger, tipping the cops as to his whereabouts, but another woman (Branka Katic).
The movie’s meaning probably can be found in an anti-organizational tilt that haunts — and perhaps diminishes — this eagerly awaited edition to the gangster genre. Dillinger killed and robbed banks, but he worked as an independent. The FBI and organized crime — represented by Purvis and gangster Frank Nitti (Bill Camp) — couldn’t tolerate lone actors. Both criminal and legal institutions relied on muscle and organizational heft, eschewing Dillinger’s improvisational bravado. Both the FBI, which sought to arrest him, and the Mafia, which stopped laundering Dillinger’s money, ultimately turned against the notorious thief. Meanwhile, FBI director J. Edgar Hoover (Billy Crudup) seemed as interested in building the FBI’s power base as he was in catching murderous crooks.
Based on a 2004 book by Bryan Burroughs, “Public Enemies” may be a little too eager to toe the historical line, sketching out details such as the one described above, often at the expense of characterization. It’s difficult to know much about Dillinger’s cohorts from watching this picture, and the romance between Cotillard — who won an Oscar for portraying Edith Piaf in “La vie en rose” — isn’t well-enough developed. Oddly, Cottilard has her best and most furious moments when she’s not on screen with Depp, but when the police capture her and try to beat her into submission. They try — in vain as it turns out — to get Billie to tell them where to find Dillinger.
Of course, there’s explosive gunplay. The night the FBI tries to capture Dillinger at the Little Bohemia Lodge in Wisconsin features a hail of bullets flashing vividly out of the darkness.
Depp, an actor geared more toward off-kilter charm than snarling bombast, tones down the gangster cliches. It’s an original performance, if not always a commanding one. And in the end, I wasn’t entirely sure that Mann had found a thematic statement that transcended all the period details. His observations about crime and law enforcement are not entirely fresh, and too many characters come and go without giving the actors a chance to develop them. Included in this list are some pretty good actors, Giovanni Ribisi and Lily Taylor, for example.
Mann, a director of obvious talent and fierce interests, has entered revered genre territory. In trying to avoid convention — he may have thrown out a few bullets of excitement along with the smoking gun of cliche. There’s no giddy pleasure in the movie’s robberies (as in, say, “Bonnie and Clyde”) and not much sense of a tragic fall, either. Artful detailing doesn’t necessarily make for a great movie. Maybe the ace bad man of the world deserved some of the pulp sensibility that made Jack Lait’s story leap off the page with the spark of an exploding flash bulb.
Here’s the way Lait ended his lead paragraph: “It took 27 of them (FBI agents) to end Dillinger’s career, and their strength came out of his weakness — a woman.”
There’s more pure melodrama in that sentence than in a lot of “Public Enemies.” And when it comes to gangster movies, melodrama isn’t always a bad thing.
A variety of failures — all of them mild — turn “Cheri,” an adaptation of two of Colette’s Parisian novels, into a surprisingly bloodless costume drama, a movie full of love and sex that never generates enough heat.
Stephen Frears, who directed “Dangerous Liaisons” from a script by playwright Christopher Hampton, would seem an ideal choice to direct this Hampton-written screenplay about the doomed romance between an aging courtesan (Michelle Pfeiffer, another “Dangerous Liaisons” alum) and her 19-year-old lover (Rupert Friend).
As is often the case, what seems ideal falls short of perfection. An English-speaking cast can’t find the fire that could have liberated “Cheri” from its period trappings. Friend’s character — affectionately called Cheri by Pfeiffer’s Lea — comes off like a world-class mope, and Pfeiffer can’t quite master Lea’s alternating moods of desolation and calculation. Lea suffers deeply when Cheri abandons her, but Pfeiffer’s performance doesn’t suggest enough of Lea’s strength.
Felicity Jones signs on as Edmee, the woman who Cheri’s mother (Kathy Bates) chooses for him. Bates finds the requisite vitality for her role; she’s playing a woman who knows how to kill with a compliment.
Burdened by a narration which Frears himself delivers, the movie tries for a last-minute helping of shock, but Frears never succeeds in giving the material the agonized life it demands. Beautifully conceived by production designer Alan MacDonald, “Cheri” can feel more designed than lived in.
“Cheri” probably doesn’t deserve to be tarnished with a “middle brow” label, but it comes uncomfortably close, something that you don’t really expect from Frears, whose movies — from “My Beautiful Laudrette” to “Dirty Pretty Things” — usually have been put a skillful finger on the nearest cutting edge.
“My Sister’s Keeper” raises a powerful question but cops out before providing an answer. Although parts of this weepie — those dealing with a young woman dying of cancer — put a lump in my throat, the movie proved intellectually unsatisfying. This is not a small matter because the best movies allow the head and heart to work in tandem.
Director Nick Cassavetes, adapting a 2004 bestseller by Jodi Picoult and working from a script he co-wrote with Jeremy Leven, tries to tell too many stories when one would have sufficed. Cassavetes’ soft-focus approach to narrative echoes throughout, as the movie offers shifting points of view. At various times, each member of the Fitzgerald family offers voice-over guidance.
For me, the most intriguing part of the story involves a suit brought by 11-year-old Anna Fitzgerald (Abigail Breslin) against her parents. Anna contacts a lawyer (Alec Baldwin) she’s seen on TV: She wants “medical emancipation” from her parents. Breslin’s Anna is a donor child, a kid conceived so that her parents might find a way to help keep her older sister Kate (Sofia Vassileva) alive. For years, Anna’s body has been supplying Kate with organic material vital to her survival.
When the movie opens, Kate — now a teen-ager — needs a kidney transplant, but Anna finally has decided to draw a line in the sand. She’s tired of being subjected to painful medical procedures that may threaten the quality of her future.
In some ways, the movie’s most interesting character is Sara Fitzgerald (Cameron Diaz), a stubborn mother who presides over her oldest daughter’s illness with the ferocity of a warrior. It’s not that Sara doesn’t love Anna; it’s just that she can’t let go of Kate. Diaz gives her best performance in some time; she’s playing a mom who has allowed tunnel vision to blind her to what may be inevitable, and Diaz seems to understand that Sara’s determination teeters on — and perhaps falls over — the edge of selfishness.
The rest of the cast can’t be faulted, either. Although he doesn’t have enough to do, Jason Patric does fine as the father of the family Fitzgerald; Evan Ellingson proves convincing as the teen-age boy in the family, a kid whose problems have been lost in the frenzy that has developed around Kate.
For me, the movie’s problems stem mostly from Cassavetes’ treatment of the material. He uses flashbacks, which can be confusing until you realize that he’s backtracking to fill in details about the story. He also relies on music-covered montages to do work that dramatization would have better accomplished, and he allows a piano-driven score to do too much of the movie’s emotional heavy lifting.
I couldn’t always buy the way the family acts in face of Anna’s suit. Of course, there’s bickering and argument, but Cassavetes doesn’t show us the kind of deep-rooted tensions that would seem inevitable in such a situation.
Tastefully shot by master cinematographer Caleb Deschanel, “My Sister’s Keeper” has the look and feel of a serious movie. But as the script’s intentions became more apparent, I began to feel cheated. So, yes, I had a lump in my throat, but I also felt as if I’d been watching a movie that betrayed its own potential.
FOOD FOR THOUGHT AND ACTION We all probably should be hungry for the kind of information dispensed in “Food, Inc.,” a documentary that takes us inside corporate agriculture and provides enough information to feed your worst nightmares about the lack of nutritional value in the food we eat.
Director Robert Kenner, working with authors Michael Pollan (”In Defense of Food” and “The Omnivore’s Dilemma”) and Eric Schlosser (”Fast Food Nation”), reminds us that small farmers are practically extinct, that big-business bullies “independent” farmers into submission and that the result of all this corporate bludgeoning is a food supply of dubious quality. You will not leave feeling any fondness for Monsanto. The same goes for corn and corn syrup, which threaten our health and which find their way into much of our food.
The movie is divided into chapters, but at 94 minutes, it can only scratch the surface of a large and complex subject. Still, even this quick look is enough to put you off your feed.
Perhaps so that we don’t totally loose hope — or lunch — Kenner provides a few optimistic touches. Joel Salatin, a Virginia farmer, kills animals outdoors and without the cruelty of factory operations. Additional examples of good farming practices are provided.
I can’t say that “Food, Inc.” is one of the best-made documentaries I’ve seen, but the information is both useful and appalling. So what can we do? The filmmakers make some end-of-picture suggestions, but I left feeling more informed than optimistic.
FOLLOWING A TEACHER THROUGH DEATH AND BEYOND “Unmistaken Child’ takes us inside the often-mysterious world of Tibetan Buddhism. The journey, though fascinating, may be difficult for Westerners entirely to understand. We’re talking about the part of Buddhism that deals with the reincarnation of a Tibetan master in the person of a one-year-old child living in a Nepalese backwater. Israeli director Nati Baratz approaches the subject as a neutral outsider, following developments in a carefully presented and illuminating way. Whatever you think about reincarnation, the movie proves a fascinating look at a venerable culture. It also demonstrates the remarkable devotion of a monk to his beloved teacher, a teacher he believes he has served during the course of two lives. “Unmistaken Child” is showing as part of Landmark’s calendar program and is slated to run for one week at the Esquire.
HOW FAR SHOULD ONE GO TO MAKE A POINT?
With a movie entitled “The Stoning of Soraya M.,” a plot summary is almost superfluous. This stark and unremitting movie is based on a book by Friedoune Sahebjam, which told the true story a murder that took place shortly after the establishment of the Islamic republic in Iran. Working in broad, often obvious strokes, director Cyrus Nowrastehtells the story of Soraya (Mozhan Marno), a woman who refuses to divorce her boorish husband (Navid Negahban). He wants to abandon her and her two sons financially so that he can marry a younger woman. In a male-dominated society, Soraya doesn’t stand much of a chance. She has few allies in her village, aside from a sympathetic and outspoken aunt (Shohreh Aghdashloo). Looking for a way out of his marriage, Nagahban’s character falsely accuses Soraya of adultery, an offense punishable by death. Hence, the movie’s title.
The story’s moral lines are clearly drawn, but the movie’s willingness to go the distance — showing the stoning — makes it difficult to watch and raises a troubling question: Would we have been less inclined to see this injustice without an explicit look at the stoning or is seeing this bit of barbarism essential to our understanding? It’s impossible not to feel for Soraya, but I think the movie stirred up enough justifiable outrage about the oppressive treatment of women long before the stoning arrives. Meanwhile, A framing device involving a French journalist (James Caviezel) who listens to the story as told by Aghdashloo’s character doesn’t add enough to justify its inclusion.
I’ll answer the question before I give you the list, which is presented in alphabetical order. Not one of these highly regarded films was nominated for a best-picture Oscar. A reader suggested that it might be instructive to compile a list of such overlooked movies, perhaps to make the case for Wednesday’s announcement that The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will increase the number of movies nominated for best picture from five to 10 for its 82nd edition.
So here goes:
Body and Soul
Bringing Up Baby
City Lights
Hud
Psycho
Rear Window
Red River
The Searchers
Singin’ in the Rain
Some Like It Hot
Sullivan’s Travels
2001: A Space Odyssey
White Heat
The Wild Bunch
If you want a comprehensive list of pictures that were not nominated for best picture, check out amc’s filmsite, and feel free to add your own favorite non-nominated pictures to this list.
The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences Wednesday announced that it will double the number of best-picture nominees from five to 10, starting with Oscar’s 82nd edition. For more than 60 years, the Academy has been following the five-picture format. Increasing the number of best-picture nominees probably will make fans of certain films happy, and the move may even make room for comedies, action-oriented films and box-office smashes. The expansion to 10 films also may push the Academy away from a trend — with exceptions, of course — that has tended toward recognition of independent and smaller pictures that don’t always have wide audience appeal. But if 2009 keeps moving in ts current direction, I wonder where the Academy will find 10 worthy films of any kind. The next round of Oscar nominees will be unveiled on Feb. 2 of 2010.
The best-picture winners of the last 10 years:
2008, “Slumdog Millionaire”
2007, “No Country For Old Men”
2006, “The Departed”
2005, “Crash”
2004, “Million Dollar Baby”
2003, “Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King”
2002, “Chicago”
2001, “A Beautiful Mind”
2000, “Gladiator”
1999, “American Beauty”
If you can’t make it better, make it so overwhelmingly chaotic, it will leave audiences speechless.
That seems to be the credo followed by director Michael Bay, who assembled “Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen,” a sense-shattering sequel to the 2007 original. Less a movie than a clangorous mixture of heavy-metal sound and frantic visual effects, “Revenge” spans an agonizing two hours and 29 minutes. But, hey, there’s a plus side of the ledger: The CIA finally may have found a replacement for the now-discredited practice of water boarding. Show this movie — particularly its endless finale — to suspected terrorists, and they’re bound to reveal their deepest secrets. Anything to stop the noise.
The sound of clanging metal drowns out a confusing plot that begins in prehistoric times and leaps to the present, a time when Autobots and Decepticons — it’s not always easy to tell one transformer from another — battle it out. The Autobots are on the side of the Earthlings, but humans pretty much serve as bystanders in a movie that probably will rake in enough coin to match its ungodly decibel levels.
In this installment, Shia LeBeouf’s Sam Witwicky has enrolled in college, where he spends what seems like two seconds in pursuit of knowledge. Forget school, the movie quickly turns into a race to save the Earth from a Decepticon that wants to destroy the sun. To avert tragedy, Sam must bring Optimus Prime — the transformer as savior– back to life. Sam’s helped in his task by the loyal Bumblebee and by Megan Fox, who plays Sam’s mechanically inclined girlfriend. She’s introduced in short shorts with the camera indelicately pointed toward her posterior.
You’ll have to see the movie to understand what it means if you see people running from the theater screaming, “The Decepticons are coming! The Decepticons are coming!” The Decepticons, as you may have gathered, are bad transformers.
The supporting cast includes Ramon Rodriquez as Leo, Sam’s college roommate. John Turturro returns as a former government agent who helps Sam on his quest to save the Earth, a task that struck me as less important than finding a way to bring the movie to a halt.
But here’s the deal. As much as the movie can drive adults crazy, it may turn kids into an appreciative horde.
Consider a youngster at a preview screening whose unrestrained cry sounded as the opening credits rolled, “I’ve been waiting a year for this” he yelled. At the end of the movie, the same kid (I think it was the same kid) screamed out, “Go to hell Decepticons.”
All I can tell you is that his voice had yet to change.
For me, the only thing transformed by this second helping was my already diminished hearing. My ear drums took a beating I wouldn’t wish on anyone — not even Michael Bay.
You just can never tell where Johnny Depp will wind up. Especially if he has director Tim Burton leading him.
There are the rumors that Depp will play the Riddler in the next Batman Dark Knight film. Which would be one of the best choices since they picked Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne. It won’t be the over the top performance of Jim Carrey, which is a bonus, but I wonder if it will capture the same manic and enjoyable frenzy that Frank Gorshen gave it?
Still you would wonder if he would have the time. His next film coming out in 2010 is Alice in Wonderland. Tim Burton is at the helm of this film. And almost anything can go in this film.
In a world created by Lewis Carrol while on drugs, massively it would seem, there is no normal. There is no up or down or foothold for the reader beyond Alice. The bizzare is no further than the next sentence, and your imagination just can’t run wild enough.
That’s the background of the film. Burton has taken that fixture and made it into a javelin, following up with the story years later. Thus almost anything is possible. And into this we will find Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter. Can you envision that?
I imagine a mix of Jack Sparrow on a very bad day, Edward Scissorhands on any day, with ample dashes of Ed Wood and Sweeney Todd. Perhaps even a bit of Sheldon Sands for a dark tone and Willie Wonka for a bit of humor. It’s Raoul Duke on steroids (and other items to be sure). That’s a character I would love to see.
But if the Mad Hatter is too far to the extreme for your tastes take solace in the fact that Disney is moving forward with Pirates 4. So Captian Jack will be back, likely still looking for the Fountain of Youth in Florida. Likely in as much trouble as he always tends to be, and playing both sides to his advantage.
I really like Johnny Depp. He bucked the Hollywood system, taking a path the may not have been the most lucraticve monetarily but brilliant in the range of characters he has produced over the years. He is perhaps the most truely artistic actor in our generation. Especially when he ventures into the mind of Tim Burton.
Honestly, I can’t see a reason not to see any of the 3 films I am sure he will be in. And Will Smith better watch out as Depp may unseat his record of blockbuster films in a row.
“Year One,” a new comedy starring Jack Black and Michael Cera, is a spectacular mess, which is another way of saying that the movie offers a variety of haphazard pleasures and silly asides. I arrived at “Year One” with low expectations and was surprised that I enjoyed any of its goofy humor.
Put another way, you can watch “Year One” without wanting to bolt into the lobby and smash your head against the concession stand. This may not sound like high praise, but if you’ve seen the movie’s unimpressive trailer, you know what I mean. Prehistorical life may not be hysterical, but it does make room for some laughs.
Among the movie’s better offerings: director Harold Ramis‘ total disregard for chronological credibility, Cera’s guileless looks, which in this context, border on the preposterous, and Oliver Platt’s gloriously bizarre turn as the High Priest of Sodom.
Ramis, who has directed such comedies as “Caddyshack,” Groundhog Day,” and “National Lampoon’s Vacation,” knows how to handle silly comedy, although he sometimes succumbs to the kind of gross-out demands that have become mandatory in most current comedies. To wit: I could have done without a scene in which Black, as the arrogant Zed, eats what he believes to be human excrement.
Zed’s eating habits propel the movie from a prehistoric comedy to biblical spoof. Early on, Zed eats from the forbidden tree of knowledge, a transgression that leads to expulsion from his tribe. Zed and Oh — Cera’s character — then embark on an adventure that inexplicably brings them into contact with bible stories: Cain and Abel and Abraham and Isaac, for example.
These episodes are followed by a trip to Sodom, where the movie settles for a mixed bag of comic chaos. At times, Black and Cera come on like a dumbed-down version Hope and Crosby in their road-movie period. But Black has his own style — bombast mixed with stupidity — and Cera remains the screen’s most engaging nerd. At the outset of the picture, Oh defines himself as a gatherer as opposed to Zed, who’s a hunter. Together, they’re a ridiculous mix of passive and aggressive tendencies.
The supporting cast seems to have been inspired by Ramis’ direction. Notable are Hank Azaria as Abraham, David Cross as Cain and, of course, Platt as the High Priest, a blubbery mass of sybaritic impulses and polymorphous perversity. Hey, what do you expect? He’s a big shot in Sodom, not Salt Lake.
Ramis and his fellow screenwriters — Gene Stupnitsky and Lee Eisenberg — seem to be operating without benefit of a game plan and spoofs about religion don’t exactly break new ground, but there are enough good bits here to keep the comedy from sinking and rather than indulging himself in an orgy of special-effects, Ramis relies on the skills of some very capable comic actors. Smart choice, even when the comedy is at its dumbest.
Sandra Bullock tries to make up for lost time (three years without a picture) in “The Proposal,” a romantic comedy that follows the dictates of formula so closely you wonder whether the screenwriter wasn’t forced to swear a blood oath to predictability. But here’s where things get tricky. There’s always some pleasure in watching actors adroitly handle the demands of formula, particularly in a comedy that doesn’t offer many other satisfactions. Had “The Proposal” been content to tread a screwball path toward love, it might have achieved something better than pleasing mediocrity, but the movie ultimately drowns its small supply of intelligence in a bath of soggy sentiment.
The movie’s major conceit seems to have rolled off a high-concept assembly line: As ruthless publishing executive Margaret Tate, Bullock gives Andrew (Ryan Reynolds), her assistant, a preposterous order: He must marry her. A Canadian citizen on the verge of being deported for a visa violation, Margaret needs to legitimize herself in order to keep her job.
As part of the ruse, Margaret and Andrew visit his parents in Alaska, where they announce their engagement and begin the awkward journey toward love, a trip made easier by the fact that Andrew’s well-heeled family resides in a sprawling mansion.
The trip to Alaska allows director Anne Fletcher (”27 Dresses”) to introduce the movie’s secondary characters, Andrew’s mom (Mary Steenburgen), his dad (Craig T. Nelson) and his feisty, foul-mouthed grandma (Betty White). These characters add a meet-the-in-laws twist to the already contrived proceedings, which include a scene in which a naked Andrew and Margaret bump into each other, causing much frantic hiding of body parts.
A small digression involves a conflict between Andrew and his dad. Dad wants Andrew to put aside his foolish publishing ambitions and take over the family business.
The script by Pete Chairelli eagerly sacrifices credibility in the service of fish-out-of-water comedy. Wouldn’t a smart businesswoman know enough not wear stiletto heels on an Alaskan trip that’s going to require her to climb down a ladder into the small boat that takes her to the island where Andrew’s family lives?
Oh well, such are the exaggerations of entertainment. Bullock, one of the film’s producers, knows how to play this kind of sour-to-sweet role. Reynolds gamely joins in. The two of them won’t likely dislodge Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant from any romcom pantheon, but they’re good enough to keep the movie humming. “The Proposal” probably will enjoy a brisk commercial life, but it should have done a better job hiding its contrivances, preferably under blankets of wit.
Well the news is out. Tom Cruise will be doing yet another Mission Impossible movie. But I wonder if we really care.
Given that Tom Cruise makes money every time he shows up on a screen. It’s actually very hard to think of a movie with Cruise, in the past decade or so, that was not a blockbuster. Of course that does not mean they were great films. Just greatly packaged.
But specifically when we think of the Mission Impossible films, we are reminded that this is the revisioned idea of the series that spawned the big screen adaptation. There is almost no connection between the television series and the movies.
Because Cruise knows how to market to the youth, men and women.
The Mission Impossible films are lots of flash, explosions, a couple of cool stunts, and massive amounts of close-ups of Tom Cruise removing a face mask while inevitably running.
Occasionally we get a glimpse of a team, something dropped hard in the early minutes of the first film. Why pay extra money for a cast of celebrities when you can just show Cruise smiling again? I mean it’s not like the youth market expects a “remake” to have anything to do with its original source.
So I expect that the next Mission Impossible film will include generous amounts of the following:
Big explosions
A chase on a motorcycle, and cars
Tons of shooting with automatic pistols and assault rifles
A bunch of tech gadgets every guy would love to have
At least a dozen nameless bad guys that will be killed off seconds after being seen
Location shooting in at least 3 major cities (probably European)
At least one major stunt involving Cruise doing something that the insurance companies will hate (likely in the first 5 minutes of the film or the last 10)
Oh, at least 2 very slender and somewhat exotic women. Probably 1 of them will be topless or allude to nakedness and/or sex. It is a Summer movie you know.
Beyond these essential items, a very loose plot will be formed. It will mandate that Cruise don and remove a mask in a big close-up, invariably running at the time. We will be able to notice that Luther (Ving Rhames) and some actor that no one really knows or cares about (beyond his mom, family, friends and landlord) will be in a few scenes to allude to team actions – all executed primarily by Cruise. And I expect that Cruise’s character (Ethan Hunt) will either be divorced and bitter, or really upset after having a major blowout with his on-screen wife (from the 3rd film) – which is bad news for the first bad guy he finds.
We might get Laurence Fishburne back for a return as the boss. Possible a quick scene or too of comedian Simon Pegg in a return role.
So will I go to see this film? Probably.
I already know that these films are light on anything but action. They are virtually forgettable, but provide a great distraction for a couple of hours. In fact I don’t consider this Mission Impossible, but Mission Explode Lots Of Stuff. Which can work after a long day of work in the real world.
So plan ahead that at least one day in 2011 will be spent at the theater. Just don’t expect it to be memorable.
At the outset of “Throw Down Your Heart,” a documentary that chronicles banjo player Bela Fleck’s journey across Africa, we’re told that Africa too often is portrayed as a troubled continent. Fleck, who begins by reminding us that the banjo is an instrument with African roots, sets out to present a different view. To accomplish his mission, Fleck plays with a variety of musicians in both East and West Africa, making stops in Uganda, Tanzania, Mali and Gambia. If Fleck experienced any of the difficulties that sometimes confront travelers in the Third World, he doesn’t discuss them. In fact, he doesn’t discuss much of anything. Instead, he enjoys his time playing with guitarists, singers, marimba players and masters of the thumb piano. As much a tribute to African music as a documentary, “Throw Down Your Heart” should please both general audiences and musicologists. Director Sascha Paladino does an adequate job with the camera, but visual pyrotechnics are hardly the point. This is a movie that demands to be heard as much as seen.
“Throw Down Your Heart” opens Friday at the Starz FilmCenter.
The title sounds so innoucuous. I’m sure that many are thinking that this has got to be a mistake on my part. That it must be a audio book review. But I’m not mistaken, and you will be surprised. And you will understand why this is a Chicago International Film Festival Silver Hugo Award winner.
Little Red Riding Hood and other stories, is 3 short films each based on a short story from fairy tales. In total the entire collection of films, made by director David Kaplan, are only 30 minutes long. But I bet you just can’t watch them once.
Little Red Riding Hood is the first story on the DVD. Likely this is because it stars Christina Ricci in her teen years. But the story is hardly the thing of childhood memories. It does effectively set the tone for each of the following stories though.
In each of the short films we are introduced to unique takes on old ideas. We have sexuality introduced in a manner that has you questioning if it was the director’s intention, or just your own inner thoughts making a leap. We get a mixture of ballet, Black and White film, acting, silent film, represerntative characters, puppetry, and a touch of nostalgia among the various stories.
The Red Riding Hood is my favorite. It is sweet and tempting while being new and a bit whimsical. It’s visuals are not breath-taking, but simply further engross you to the action around you. Very little detracts from your observation, providing a voyueristic pleasure on top of everything else. Chrisitna Ricci is perfect, with a coyness and yet intensity in her eyes that just hits the mark.
Little Suck-a-thumb is completely in a different direction. From the sweet and even playful temptation we go t o color and an experience that may just strike you hard. In this short film we get to see a bit of a homage to Nosferatu and the old silent horror films. We are presented a tale with strong homo-erotic undertones.
The story takes a major back seat to the acting, as by the time you are getting the opening lines we are thrust calmly into the crux of the story. There is a gentleness and seduction going on that plays well to the sudden and well placed soundtrack of Ave Maria (a favorite song of mine that I never imagined would fit such a film). By the end we are left with a stroy that hits on views of morality, sexual preferences, and orientation without ever being graphic, lewd, insulting, or shocking.
The last story, The Frog King, is my least favorite of the 3. It too is in Black and White. But unlike the initial which had a narration, this is strickly old school silent film. The look is grittier as well. Darker scenes match a tone that seems ready to explode with danger at any moment. And the payoff left me scratching my head.
We travel this journey with a very young actress, into a place that I’m not sure of. Again sexuality comes up, and again it is a take on it that is far from the mainstream. But this story is unsettling. It’s harsher and less defined. It is more open-ended and questionable.
It’s not the acting that will throw you, but the direction and the story itself. I normally don’t listen to the commentaries of most DVD’s but I sought out this one to hopefully gain greater insight into the story. Sadly there was nothing in the commentary that really helped me out. Other than to hear David Kaplan explain that this was his least favorite as well.
Speaking of the extras of the DVD, there really aren’t any. This is a straight forward DVD. You have the 3 short films, the commentary of each film, a commentary on the folklore by scholar Jack Zipes, and it’s over. Considering there is only 30 minutes to it all I can’t say I’m surprised, though I was hoping to see a blooper real or extra scenes that were deleted – especially for Frog King.
All in all, I liked the DVD. The short trip it takes you on is worth the time and money spent. And as I said in the beginning, you will likely watch it over more than once. If that is not a sign of a worthwhile purchase, in a world of highly forgetable and poorly created revisionist and/or sequel laden films, then I don’t know what is.
Where to begin with “Away We Go,” a movie that teams two television personalities for one very misanthropic road trip?
Well, we could start (and perhaps finish) with the issue of miscasting. Director Sam Mendes (”American Beauty” and “Revolutionary Road”) seems like the wrong guy for a loosey-goosey comedy that reaches for the occasional dramatic moment — a dash of angst here, a dollop of despair there. Mendes, whose previous work has tended toward heavy, significance-laden drama, should be commended for branching out, but, in my view, he’s grabbed the wrong branch, one that requires a wilder sensibility.
The material in question derives from a screenplay by author Dave Eggers and wife Vendela Vida. Best known for the brilliantly named “A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius,” Eggers can write an amusing line, but he and his novelist spouse haven’t figured out how to create characters that engage us as much as they seem to engage each other — at least not on screen.
The principal casting revolves around John Krasinski, of “The Office,” and Maya Rudolph, formerly of “Saturday Night Live.” He’s Burt; she’s Verona, an unmarried couple living in a rundown, under-heated cabin without benefit of plans or careers. She’s pregnant, the situation that gives birth to the rest of the movie.
For most of the movie, Burt and Verona travel around the U.S. — with a brief foray into Canada. They’re looking for a place to put down roots after Burt’s parents (Jeff Daniels and Catherine O’Hara) announce that they’re moving to Belgium and won’t be around to play the grandparent role. Verona’s parents are dead. Shorn of family ties, Burt and Verona are poised to begin a new life.
Stops include a visit with Verona’s former boss (Allison Janney) who’s now married with children and living in Phoenix. Turns out that Janney’s Lily is crude and offensive, a woman who seems to view married life as an ongoing series of torments. Carmen Ejogo portrays Grace, Verona’s sister. Burt and Verona visit Grace in Tucson. She quickly establishes herself as the film’s most normal character, but the trip to Tucson seems contrived to allow Verona and her sister to talk — however briefly — about their departed parents.
A trip to Wisconsin follows. There, Burt catches up with LN (Maggie Gyllenhaal), an old friend and college professor who lives a free-form life with her common-law husband (Josh Hamilton). Gyllenhaal and Hamilton portray outlandish New Age types whose ideas about parenting are so ridiculous, they lose all credibility. (An example: They won’t use a stroller lest it create the impression that they’re pushing their child away from them.)
Next up, stops in Montreal, where Mendes tries to switch from comedy to drama. Burt and Verona visit old college chums (Chris Messina and Melanie Lynskey) who are now married with lots of adopted children. Life looks happy on the surface, but undercurrents of despair soon emerge. The feeling of gloom extends to Miami where Burt reunites with his brother (Paul Schneider), a dad who’s fretting about how to raise his daughter now that his wife has left him.
Over-burdened by its attempts to be clever, the screenplay fires lots of blanks. I chuckled a bit and rooted for the movie to find its footing. But as Mendes painted his canvas of dysfunction, I mostly watched with dismay, wondering whether everyone involved in this downbeat affair shouldn’t have invested his or her considerable talents elsewhere.
Credit screenwriter Brian Helgeland with a shrewd updating of 1974’s “The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3.” Adding a variety of new intrigues and giving the movie’s villainy a topical spin qualify as improvements over the version that starred Walter Matthau and Robert Shaw.
This time out, Denzel Washington and John Travolta square off, Washington as a subway dispatcher and Travolta as a ruthless criminal who hijacks a subway train, holding passengers hostage in hopes of obtaining a $10-million payoff. If you watch the 1974 movie again (or for the first time) you’ll find some excitement in director Joseph Sargent’s handling of the same basic scenario, but you’ll also notice that lots of the move’s attempts at humor have gone stale.
Director Tony Scott (”Man on Fire,” “Crimson Tide” and “True Romance”) can be accused of following a credo that insists that anything worth doing is worth overdoing. So it’s no surprise that the car crashes are more spectacular and the action, stronger in this spiffed-up helping of high-speed tension.
Washington seems to have bulked up and de-glamorized himself for the role. He’s playing a transit authority worker who calls himself a civil servant and regular guy. The script gives Washington’s character wrinkles that the Matthau character didn’t have, adding a welcome degree of complexity to the proceedings. Washington’s not nearly as composed as Matthau, and Travolta makes it seem as if he might veer out of control at any moment, giving his character a loose-cannon quality that’s weirder than anything Shaw suggested.
The movie lacks the satirical kick of the original, a slant that was embodied in what, at the time, seemed a truly whacky premise. Back in the 1970s when airline hijacking was more prominently featured in the news, the idea of hijacking a subway qualified as preposterous, a goof on the whole notion of where unexpected dangers might lurk. Lacking that kind of crazy punch, the remake tends to come off as slightly hollow, a summer movie built more around competence than conviction.
I’d hardly call the original a classic, and this one isn’t either, but it’s an entertaining enough thriller that updates the original in mostly interesting ways — once you buy into the screenplay’s more outlandish leaps. Scott makes sure that there are some brutal murders here, presumably to augment a sense of realism, but “Taking of Pelham 1 2 3″ isn’t about believability; it’s about … well… not much of anything. But then the first movie wasn’t about much of anything either.
Imagine a great movie. You’ll have to do just that if you see “Imagine That” because this family-oriented Eddie Murphy comedy — filmed in Denver –doesn’t qualify as great by any standards I know. Still, it’s easier to appreciate Murphy in this innocuous bit of fluff than in such crass noise machines as the woeful “Norbit.”
Besides, “Imagine That” offers additional pleasures for those of us who live in the Mild (no typo intended) High City. I loved the shot in which the camera rose toward the top of Invesco Field and then rushed over the lip of the stadium. The westward view from City Park can be inspiring, the downtown skyline poised against a mountain backdrop. Yes, that’s Union Station. Ditto the Millennium Bridge. Throw in a little Coors Field and you’ve got yourself a Denver-based movie with a middle-of-the-road flavor. If a brief scene involving Carmelo Anthony and Allen Iverson is outdated, so be it. “Imagine That” was shot in 2007, before anyone dreamed of Chauncey Billup’s triumphant return to the Nuggets.
Yes, there’s a movie that goes along with the Denver backdrop, and if I tell you that the city of Denver plays better than a predictable script by Ed Solomon and Chris Matheson, you’ll know where I stand. Didn’t hate it. Didn’t love it.
“Imagine That” was directed by Karey Kirkpatrick, who has done lots of work in animation. He directed “Over the Hedge,” and co-wrote several other animated movies, notably “Chicken Run” and “James and the Giant Peach.” Here, Kirkpatrick avoids showy moves, allowing Murphy to carry the movie along with cute Yara Shahidi, who plays Olivia, his seven-year-old daughter.
As a workaholic dad who learns that his daughter’s happiness is every bit as important as career advancement, Murphy only occasionally indulges his wild side. Mostly, he serves the material, which doesn’t look as if it posed the greatest of creative challenges. Evan and his wife (Nicole Ari Parker) are separated. When Evan is forced to take care of his daughter for a week, his busy career as a financial advisor is disrupted.
The story’s major conceit involves Olivia’s security blanket. Olivia imagines that the blanket allows her to consult with a couple of magical princesses, who not only keep her company but also offer great advice on stock purchases. Trying to gain the upper hand on a business rival (Thomas Haden Church), Evan begins to take the blanket seriously. Amazingly, his already successful career gets even better.
More interested in warming the heart than in stimulating the mind, the screenplay turns Church’s character into a human cartoon, a broker who specializes in wowing prospective clients with a ludicrous combination of Native American and New Age blather.
“Imagine That” spouts its own brand of blather, warning dads against opting for career over kids. That’s a nice sentiment, but the movie has the benefit of last-minute plot contrivances that are beyond the reach of most real fathers.
Last February, the Japanese movie “Departures” shocked many moviegoers when it took home the Oscar for best foreign-language film. “Departures” beat out “The Class” (France) and “Waltz With Bashir” (Israel), both of which were considered better bets.* At the time, few reviewers had seen “Departures,” and many observers wondered whether the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences hadn’t once again chosen sentiment over substance.Thankfully, that’s not the case. At its best, “Departures” has the tender beauty of a labor of love.
This is not to say that I’d have picked “Departures” over either “The Class or “Waltz With Bashir.” “The Class” dealt with the problems of urban schools better than any movie I’ve seen. It took an honest look at how a mostly white faculty coped with an influx of students from diverse ethnic backgrounds. My second choice would have been the animated “Waltz With Bashir,” a powerful examination of Israeli guilt over the war in Lebanon.
By comparison, “Departures” is a more conservative movie that wants to extol the restorative powers of tradition. Director Yojiro Takita tells a story that leads us to believe that many people have forgotten the importance of rituals involving the dead. “Departures” suggests that bypassing such rituals devalues the life of the departed.
To make these points, “Takita” focuses on Daigo (Masahiro Motoki), a cellist whose orchestra disbands at the movie’s outset. Realizing that his musical talents may be limited, Daigo decides to seek a new profession. In pursuit of this new life, he returns to his backwater hometown with his wife (Ryoko Hirosue).
Thinking he’s applying for a job at a local travel agency, Daigo lands employment as an assistant to a man (Tsutomu Yamazaki ) who practices the ancient art of encoffination, preparing bodies for cremation. Yamazaki’s character washes and dresses corpses, tasks he performs with great respect and with a ceremonial concern for detail. Apparently, this kind of work does not win much respect for its practitioners. Upset by her husband’s declining social status, Daigo’s wife returns to the city, leaving her husband to fend for himself.
Initially, Daigo himself is a bit revolted by his new occupation. Takita uses Daigo’s reluctance to fuel some unfortunately broad comedy. I agree with those who found this comedic approach to be slightly at odds with what’s best about the movie, the careful detailing of the way bodies are handled. I was absorbed watching Daigo and his boss elevate their occupation to the level of art, to see the quiet satisfaction that occurs when a thing is done correctly and with great care.
It should come as no surprise that Daigo finds his purpose in life under the initially gruff tutelage of Yamazaki’s character. He not only learns how to handle bodies, but performs a service that bonds him to the community in which he spent his youth.
I found enough sad, lovely moments in “Departures” to offset any reservations. It also made me stop and think about what kinds of work we should value and why.
*The other nominated films were Germany’s “The Baeder Meinhof Complex” and Austria’s “Revanche.” “Departures” is the first movie in Landmark’s new calendar series. It opens Friday for a one-week at the Chez Artiste.
This is a week, Hollywood hopes to keep you laughing. I’d say the industry is batting a dismal one for three.
CRUDE, DISTASTEFUL AND LIKELY TO SUCCEED
Doug (Justin Bartha) is about to get married when his buddies take him to Vegas for a bachelor party. Who are these buddies? Well, there’s Stu (Ed Helms), a dentist who’s pushed around by his overbearing fiance. Then there’s Phil (Bradley Cooper), a teacher and the self-appointed “cool” guy in the group. Rounding out this trio of buddies is Alan, played by comic Zack Galifianakis. Alan, we learn, is a bearded weirdo who grates on everyone’s nerves but happens to be the groom’s prospective brother-in-law. If you’ve seen the trailer for “The Hangover,” you already have an idea about the movie, which includes a cameo from Mike Tyson and a late-picture appearance by Ken Jeong who plays a gay, Asian gangster. You also probably know that the plot is little more than an excuse for the jokes, some of which are funny and most of which tilt crude. Here’s how it unfolds: The men arrive in Vegas. On their first night, they get so drunk they can’t remember a thing. When they wake up in their hotel suite, they realize that Doug is missing. They also realize that their suite has been trashed. To make matters worse, a tiger has found its way into the bathroom, and there’s a baby in one of the closets. The buddies seem to have had one hell of a riotous night. Most of the gags can’t be described here, but if you know that “The Hangover” was directed by Todd Phillips, who also directed “Old School,” you’ll have a decent idea about the brand of humor. I enjoyed “Old School” more, but there are laughs here, many of them derived from situations in which humor and pain go hand-in-hand. An example: “The Hangover” includes a scene in which our heroes are tazed by a sadistic cop. Something in our makeup seems to enjoy movies that put characters into such painful situations. “The Hangover” is banking that we’ll indulge that impulse. Enjoy.
LAUGHS ARE LOST IN A TIME WARP Dinosaurs, strange reptilian creatures called Sleestaks and an ape man who represents an early stage of evolution do little to bring laughter to a notably unfunny Will Ferrell comedy that attempts to reprise the ’70s TV show on which it’s based. A ton of money seems to have been spent on some not-so-special effects. The filmmakers should have hired a script doctor, preferably one who could infuse real mirth into this spoof-deprived effort. Ferrell plays Dr. Rick Marshall, a failed genius who believes he can transport himself into a dimension where past, future and present exist simultaneously. Accompanying Ferrell on his time-warped journey are a scientist with a crush on him (Anna Friel) and a redneck sidekick (Danny McBride). Having arrived in an alternate reality, the trio quickly meets up with ape man Chaka (Jorma Taccone). Director Bard Siberling tries to spice things up with action sequences involving an angry T-Rex, but like an unearthed fossil, the movie is pretty much DOA. “Land of the Lost” can look impressively tacky, but Ferrell has had better moments, and the rest the cast can’t do much to salvage what amounts to a depressingly meager slice of big-screen comedy. The Today Show’s Matt Lauer isn’t bad in a cameo, but he has the misfortune of appearing as himself. At least the rest of the actors got to hide behind characters.
HER BIG FAT GREEK DISASTER Nia Vardalos tries to reprise her success with “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” with another comedy that traffics in stereotypes. The difference between the overrated “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” and “My Life In Ruins” is that “My Life” is considerably worse. Vardalos again looks for love — only this time in Greece where her character works as a tour guide for a second-rate company. If you’re looking to visit major tourist spots and can ignore the foreground of plot, character and lame comedy, you may get something out of this misbegotten travelogue. Vardalos portrays a self-confessed horny woman who’s fed up with escorting reluctant tourists around cultural landmarks. Richard Dreyfuss portrays a widower who cracks bad jokes. As a member of a tour group led by Vardalos’ Georgia, he winds up urging her to take a chance on love. With whom? Well with hunky bus driver Poupi (Alexis Georgoulis). Georgia also tries to outdo a rival tour guide (Alistair McGowan), who seems to understand that tourists couldn’t care less about Greece’ s cultural glories. They only want to buy souvenirs. That’s just one of the many ways in which “My Life” turns its characters into caricatures. Attempts at bawdy humor fall flat, and the whole project winds up inducing more cringes than laughs.
LIVING THE HEAVY METAL LIFE — IN OBSCURITY
A couple of worthy documentaries open this weekend, and they couldn’t be more different.
“Anvil! The Story of Anvil” chronicles the 30-year history of a heavy metal band called (you guessed it) Anvil. It seems that Anvil enjoyed its 15 minutes of fame during the 1980s. The group flashed hot for a moment, but somehow never made it into the upper echelons where bands such as Metallica live. The same probably could be said for lots of groups, but Anvil is a band with difference. The band’s founders — Steve “Lips” Kudlow (vocals) and Robb Reiner (drums) — are still at it. These guys still harbor rock ‘n roll dreams, and during the film, they pursue them on an ill-fated European tour that’s bound — as has been pointed out in nearly every review of the movie — to remind audiences of “This Is Spinal Tap.” We’re talking under-populated venues, crummy travel arrangements, a clueless booker and a mood that tends to reinforce the band’s general sense of failure. But even the problems of the tour can’t deter Anvil. When the band arrives back in Canada, Lips raises enough money to cut a record with a former producer who still believes Anvil may be able to catapult to the top of the charts. The efforts of Anvil seem both heroic and pathetic at the same time. You half wish these steadfast Canadians would abandon their youthful dream and you half admire their refusal to surrender their ambitions. Directed by Sacha Gervasi, a screenwriter who once worked with the band as a roadie, the movie captures Lips dedication (madness?). His drive may be at the heart of what has sustained Anvil over so many years. It also helps keep the wheels of this oddball documentary turning.
ATTACKING THE HYPOCRISY OF THE CLOSET “Outrage,” by director Kirby Dick, is a whole different story. Best known for the documentary “This Film Is Not Yet Rated,” Dick turns from the hypocrisies of the movie rating system to the hypocrisies of politics, focusing on gay politicians who consistently vote against gay rights. Outing politicians isn’t the point, the film insists, and to some measure it’s not. The film talks about the torment of people who live in the closet, and tries to describe the pressures that encourage certain legislators to vote against issues beneficial to gays. Barney Frank, the gay Massachusetts congressman puts the issue squarely: “There’s a right to privacy, but there’s no right to hypocrisy.” The trouble: It’s impossible to talk about such hypocrisy without violating privacy, particularly in the case of politicians who insist that they’re not gay. Florida’s governor, Charlie Crist is one such. James McGreevey, the former governor of New Jersey, becomes a kind of spokesman for opening the closet door. McGreevey speaks eloquently about the double life he once led. Is Idaho’s Larry Craig, the former Senator from Idaho gay? The film thinks he definitely is. Craig, you’ll recall, was arrested in 2007 at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, accused of playing footsie with someone in an airport men’s room. There’s much more to “Outrage” than sensationalism; the film criticizes the mainstream media for ignoring the gay lives of politicians, particularly those who make a point of espousing a family-values agenda, and it does make you wonder how these same folks might fare if they acknowledged the truth the film insists it knows.
“Anvil! The Story of Anvil” and “Outrage” open in Denver Friday.
For my readers that recall my interviews at the Tribeca Film Festival, you will note that I had to cut my interview with producer Abigail Disney short. We were discussing Pray The Devil Back To Hell and Playground, but most of our time was spent on Pray The Devil Back To Hell (which documented the incredible success of the women of Liberia in creating peace in that nation).
As I mentioned, I have a follow-up interview with Abigail that delves into the independant film Playground. This interview was conducted via email, but is as interesting as when we spoke in person.
Michael Vass : When last we had the chance to speak the Tribeca Film Festival was still underway and one of the films you had at the festival was Playground. We didn’t have a chance to speak more about the film at the time. I’m sure many of my readers would like to know what the documentary is about, and how it did at the festival?
Abigail Disney : Playground is about the dark and lesser known world of child sex trafficking in America, which is the number one tourist destination in the world for travelers looking for sex with children. The film found very appreciative audiences at Tribeca, which was gratifying, since it’s a difficult topic.
Michael Vass : The subject of children forced to have sex and being sold as property is a difficult one for many to explore. But your film delves into the fact that this is one of the fastest growing crimes in the world. Have you gotten any feedback for politicians anywhere?
Abigail Disney : Both activists and politicians have shown lots of interest in the film, and we are hoping to have an impact on policy by illuminating the human impact of some of our more counter productive policies around children and sexuality.
Michael Vass : I know you and the director of the film had a great deal of difficulty, and potential threats on your life, making this film. What was that experience like?
Abigail Disney : Well, I can’t say as I’ve had threats on my life directly, but I know that Libby Spears, the director has. She is an incredibly tenacious and dedicated woman, who is so passionately devoted to raising awareness of these kids that she was willing to face up to those threats to get the film done. She was going to get this film done no matter what the consequences for her personally. She is an incredibly brave human being.
Michael Vass : Of the women you were able to speak with about this subject, what did they have to say?
Abigail Disney : If you listen to the women in this film, the women who grew up in the world, you just want to curl up and cry. Or stand up and shout. I mean, the idea that prostitution is a “victimless crime” has got to be gotten rid of once and for all, regardless of the age of the prostitute. When you consider the percentage of women in the field who were sexually abused as kids, it is difficult to imagine that that experience did not have everything to do with their situations as adults.
Michael Vass : Are there any organizations that are working on this issue, any Governments that are actively trying to end this?
Abigail Disney : The government of Costa Rica has made admirable progress in confronting not only the sex-tourism trade, but also the corruption that so often goes with it. Cambodia is notably at the opposite end of the spectrum, and the numbers of girls getting sucked into the sex trade there and the ferocity of the people protecting that business are overwhelming. NGO’s and the UN are working hard to confront the sex trade, and particularly the trade in children, but frankly I believe we won’t make substantive progress until we significantly change our attitudes about gender and sexuality.
Michael Vass : Your film highlights that this is not just a problem in other parts of the world, but also here in America. Since the film was shown at Tribeca have you seen more attention on this issue here?
Abigail Disney : There has been definite movement among politicians interested in making strides on this front. Really, the film makes us look deeply stupid as a country on this issue!
Michael Vass : Are the conditions that the women and children go through as bad as what is in the film, or are those the best conditions and the others so severe you could not get them on film or past censors?
Abigail Disney : Libby concentrated on particular human stories, and so the film is not really a survey of conditions around the country. The conditions do vary depending on local laws and customs, and can get incredibly hideous in the hands of some people. The photos you see of small children in the sex trade give you a taste of how hellish their lives must be.
Michael Vass : For those that want to be more involved in this issue, or any of the issues you champion, where can they go for more information? What events do you have planned?
Abigail Disney : I would send people to two places. Playground has a website that has lots of information at www.playgroundproject.com and there is a section on resources to learn about how to help. Also the Center for Missing and Exploited Children is a remarkable organization that does great advocacy on these issues and they are a great NGO to support.
Michael Vass : Considering that you tend to produce movies on some of the more interesting and less discussed issues of our day, what is the next project you are working on?
Abigail Disney : Well, thanks for asking! Gini Reticker, who made Pray the Devil Back to Hell with me, and I are developing a series on Women, War & Peace for WNET/Wide Angle, the premier international affairs documentary series on American Public Television. We are incredibly excited about the opportunity. Not only have women always been WAY more affected by war than our culture has ever cared to admit, but their role in wars has changed in last 50 years in ways we would do well to attend to. They are not only more overtly and sadistically being targeted, particularly in the proliferation of ethnic and civil wars around the globe, but they are also stepping up more and more as activists, politicians, international figures of peace and even as soldiers and generals. Their participation in all aspects of war has subtly changed this eternal fact of human history, perhaps irrevocably.
Michael Vass : For those not able to see this film in smaller localities or who missed its initial run, when do you expect the DVD to be released, and how might they purchase it?
Abigail Disney : We are planning a limited release this fall and will be updating our website, www.playgroundproject.com, with details.
I want to thank Abigail Disney for our first and this follow-up interview, and apologize for running over time at the Tribeca Film Festival in the first place.
I also recommend to all my readers both films that Abigail has produced. I found them to be powerful and engaging films. They are well worth the time at a theater, and/or as a DVD purchase for your home.
Plus I am looking forward to Women, War & Peace which will be on American Public Television and WNET. Given the quality of the independant films mentioned above, I have no doubt this television program will be equally of high quality and importance.
Carl Fredericksen is 78. He’s also one of the main characters of a new animated movie from Disney via Pixar. Building an animated movie around an elderly man is amazing enough, but the unusual qualifies of “Up” don’t stop with Carl’s age. The movie also deals with death and grief and how Carl ultimately responds to losing his wife and life partner. Maybe that’s why “Up” was chosen as the opening-night film of the recently concluded Cannes Film Festival. Watching the movie makes you wonder — at least a little — whether the guys at Pixar aren’t bolder and more imaginative than many of the folks making live-action movies.
None of this is to say that “Up” is a downer: It’s not. The movie’s prescriptions for Carl are delightfully preposterous; they’re also an expression of the kind of imaginative dreaming that movies always have done better than any other medium. Sure ”Up” has it sad moments, but they’re played against a background of adventure and cartoonish action that’s both down-to-Earth and wacky.
Before we go any further, let’s deal with the matter of 3D. Yes, “Up” can be seen in 3D. That’s how I saw it. Beautifully and richly colored, “Up” doesn’t need 3D. It has interesting characters, enough action to please kids, enough seriousness to keep adults occupied and an overall spirit that can be sweet without turning saccharine. 3D? I don’t think I’d have enjoyed the movie any less without it.
The story begins by introducing us to a Carl as a child. “Up” then proceeds to chronicle Carl’s life — from a boyhood in which he fell in love with the idea of adventure through the mundane but touching aspects of his marriage to Ellie, his childhood sweetheart. I watched in disbelief as directors Pete Docter and Bob Peterson bravely used a series of vignettes that, among other things, showed the couple losing a baby and remaining childless. The directors even take us through Ellie’s hospitalization and death as an older woman. These scenes from a marriage represent a nifty bit of animated storytelling, but we quickly realize that what we’re seeing is only a prelude.
Within a matter of minutes, the bright-eyed boy from the movie’s opening becomes another gray grump, an old man voiced by Ed Asner. Enter eight-year-old Russell (Jordan Nagai), a Junior Wilderness Explorer who’s looking to earn a merit badge by assisting the elderly. I won’t burden you with plot details, except to note that the movie trades its early realism for a healthy chunk of fantasy.
Appalled by the fact that he’s being shipped to a retirement home, Carl ties hundreds of helium-filled balloons to his house and uproots it. His plan: to float to Venezuela so that he can land on top of a mountain at majestic Paradise Falls, a place he saw in a newsreel as a kid. Of course, Russell winds up taking the trip with Carl.
From that point on the movie opts for comedy and adventure: Not only do we get flying houses, we get talking dogs, a giant zeppelin called “Spirit of Adventure,” wild cartoonish action, a giant bird named Kevin and a villain worthy of all the hisses we can muster. Baddie Charles Muntz (Christopher Plummer) wants to capture Kevin and bring the bird back to the U.S. Muntz is introduced in the movie’s opening scene, which shows young Carl at the movies. He’s watching a newsreel about Muntz. It seems that Muntz — a dashing adventurer — was denounced as a fraud when he brought the skeleton of a giant bird to the U.S. By capturing Kevin, Muntz hopes to vindicate himself and silence his critics. Of course, he’ll stop at nothing to make his point.
If all of this suggests far-fetched adventure, you’ve got the idea. As it progresses, ”Up” becomes zanier, but both Russell and Carl retain personalities that are grounded in reality. Carl gradually sheds his desire to keep things just as they are, a desire that’s embodied in his devotion to the house that he and Ellie renovated and which he can’t let go of. Russell’s a kid and nothing more, but there’s something about his sincerity that touches Carl and helps him relinquish his hold the past. This all comes across as more sweet than profound, but credit “Up” for not shrinking from recognizable emotions.
If little ones don’t totally get the movie, they probably will be swept away by its physical comedy and by characters that aren’t always far removed from a cartoon universe. Look, I don’t want to oversell “Up,” but its combination of imaginative daring and emotional realism took me by surprise. “Up” leaves you feeling a little sad and a little happy. But most of all, it leaves you feeling grateful that you felt something. Nice work, Pixar.
Ah the joy of prequels. Yes there is nothing quite like the ability of Hollywood to go back in time, on a movie set, and to generally screw up the history and persona of any character or storyline that can make an extra buck. As you might notice, I tend to dislike prequels. They tend to be as good as revisioned movies, and you know I hate that word.
I know that everyone, including me, loved The Dark Knight. That had a lot to do with the script, which kept the theme of the Dark Knight series of graphic novels, more than Christian Bale. Though Bale did a great job. And honestly there wasn’t that much of the storyline that was changed.
Another prequel that worked out well was the restart of the James Bond series of films. Of course Bond restarts every time there is a new lead. So the public can accept every change without it being a major revision. Still there is something lost in the action first, thought nowhere, Bond that is Daniel Craig.
The Superman restart was pretty much what you would expect. Not a revisioning as much as it was an attempt to draw attention back on the movie franchise. I never was a big fan of Superman to start with - he’s too much of a boyscout for me - so I’ll leave that alone.
But then there are movies like Wolverine, which was horrible. Yes lot’s of action, and Hugh Jackman without a shirt for the ladies. But it was disappointing. The storyline was basically missing. It was just action for the sake of action. Dare I say that the majority of the film was boring. And as for any attempt at logic, well they really stretched it even for a comic book to movie conversion film.
It gets worse when you think of films like Star Trek. Lot’s of action (note the recurring theme in these prequels) and angst. Not much logic or plot. Most of the things that made Trek so enduring were thrown out. And I really disliked this new version of Spock.
So to summurize, when Hollywood wants a prequel these days they load up on action, throw out the plot, ignore all logical actions, and rewrite (or revision) everything to ensure that a youthful audience will show up for the flash of skin and lots of explosions.
Thus we are led to what got me thinking about this in the first place. Laura Croft and the Tomb Raider series. Which is set to get revisioned - excuse me, a prequel is planned. A prequel without Angelina Jolie.
To be exact, Jolie is not confirmed to be out of the film yet. But unless there is some Spock-like temporal vortex, she is too old to play herself young enough to satisfy Hollywood executives. Especially with the current emphasis on more action and more explosions vs. plot (which the Tomb Raider movies were short on to start with).
Will the prequel work for Tomb Raider? Well it’s hard to imagine it being worse than Cradle of Life. That film sucked. So in regard to that, there is a huge upside potential since expectations at this point are limited to a pretty woman with big boobs (likely fake enhancements as with Jolie) in a tight shirt with explosions going off around her. Sad to say but it is honest.
Of the potential actresses being rumored to take the Croft role, Megan Fox is at the top of the list. This is likely due to her performance (if it can be called that) in Transformers. A film which the director insisted
In “Tyson,” director James Toback takes us inside the mind of the former heavyweight champ. It’s not a pleasant place to be.
I saw the movie before Tyson lost his 4-year-old daughter to an accident involving a treadmill. I don’t know how I would have reacted to the movie had I seen it after this horrible incident. Would Tyson have seemed even more tragic? Would recent news further heighten the sense of pathos that surrounds the former champ. I don’t know. All I know is that Tyson is not a guy who needed more pain in his life, and when I read about his daughter, my heart sank.
How you react to Toback’s documentary — which consists of a Mike Tyson monologue, footage from his bouts and additional material — depends on whether you find Tyson interesting or overbearing or a combination of both. The Tyson we meet can be both self-aware and brutal, and his thoughts — presented as he sits on a sofa in his California home — range from insightful to truculent. In a weird way, watching “Tyson” is like being in the ring with him: He keeps coming at you. His observations have a relentless quality, so much so that after awhile you only can imagine what life might be like for Tyson. He lives inside his head all the time. We’re just visiting.
So who is this guy? Tyson tells us that he was a frightened kid who learned that he couldn’t stand to be physically abused by neighborhood toughs. He responded by getting tougher than anyone else. He dealt drugs. He got sent away. While in juvenile detention, he came to the attention of manager Cus D’Amato, who turned him into a fighter. Tyson found himself and then got lost again when D’Amato died. He became heavyweight champ at the age of 20. Tyson married Robin Givens. They divorced. Much later, he was tried and convicted for rape. He went to jail. He came to view sex as synonymous with power. He bit off part of Evander Holyfield’s ear in a fight that took place late in his career. He’s a clenched fist of a man, driven by furies that are never far from view.
At 43, Tyson no longer boxes. He can seem emotionally vulnerable, but half the time we don’t know what to make of him. It’s as if Tyson’s constantly fighting a war within, and even he doesn’t know who’s going to win. Is it possible, as Tyson says, that his entire life has been a response to his fear of being bullied when he was a kid in the Brownsville section of Brooklyn?
Tyson claims innocence when it comes to his rape conviction. He describes himself as an extremist, a man who doesn’t know how to live in the middle. In his prime, Tyson fought like an extremist. He would begin by looking at his opponent, sending out beams of hostility from his eyes. If the other guy blinked, Tyson knew that he’d win, even before the first punch was thrown. Like many young people who attain sudden celebrity, Tyson was ill equipped to handle it.
To this day, you can’t be entirely sure that Tyson knows how to control himself. The mixture of danger and self-awareness, at minimum, proves fascinating. We wind up with an unfiltered look at a man who fought his way to the top, but hasn’t always been able to conquer his own demons.
I could have done without some of Toback’s visual gimmickry: split screens, etc. But in the end, Tyson overpowers everything else. It’s the force of his rant that stays with you. And yet, there’s something inconclusive about “Tyson,” perhaps the feeling Tyson’s moments of calm proceed some inevitable storm. He has lost the heavyweight title. He has lost his freedom. And now, he’s suffered the worst loss of all, his daughter. No matter what else you feel about Mike Tyson, that’s one loss no one would wish on him.
If you live in Denver, you may interested to know Carmello Anthony’s company Krossover Productions was involved in the making of “Tyson.” Anthony is listed as one of the film’s executive producers. Next up for Krossover, a bio-pic about baseball star Roberto Clemente. For more on Anthony and his film exploits, check out this ESPN story.
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