OK, the room’s clearing out. There’s no more wine. I have only one more thing to say, The Hurt Locker kicked butt — and all the right butts, at that. And that brings an end to a generally unsurprising evening and to the interminable awards season. See you at the after party.
9:59 The Academy does the right thing, and gives the best picture Oscar to “The Hurt Locker.” 9:50 p.m. Kathryn Bigelow wins the Oscar for best director. It’s a great honor for her, but did we need Babs to remind us that the time had come for a woman director to win? It’s not Oscar’s achievement; it’s Bigelow’s. Classy speech from Bigelow, acknowledges soldiers about whom she made her film. 9:40 p.m. The Oscar for best actress goes to Sandra Bullock. The woman sitting next to me gags. Sorry, but it’s true. But Bullock does a nice job of acknowledging her fellow nominees. Would I have voted for her? Er…no. But she really does seem to be Miss Congeniality.
9:35 p.m. Good for Jeff Bridges. Everyone knew he’d win and you gotta love a guy who seems to enjoy winning. He calls acting a “groovy profession.” The Dude abides. 9:28 p.m. Having actors and actresses who starred with the best actor nominees introduce each one of them is a nice touch. 9:25 p.m. Damn, Up in the Air should win something. 9:15 p.m. The Oscar for best foreign language film goes to (The Secret in Their Eyes (El Secreto de Sus Ojos) from Argentina. A total Oscar fake out. As always, Oscar honors a film that no one has seen, bypassing The White Ribbon and A Prophet. It better be one hell of a film. But credit the director for giving a shout-out to Chile, which badly needs one.
9:06 p.m.The Hurt Locker wins best editing. It’s on its way to best picture. Maybe. And it’s not even in 3-D. 9:05 p.m. Tyler Perry appears on the Oscars and makes a joke about the fact that this could be a one-and-only gig for him. 9:03 p.m.The Cove — from Boulder filmmakers — wins best documentary. Those of us who live in Colorado go wild. Or maybe semi-wild. Well, we applauded politely.
8:25 p.m. I know I’m in an older crowd because many of my companions on this endless journey keep asking who some of the younger presenters are. 8:20 p.m. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting bored with Oscar. Looks like George Clooney has had his fill, too. Thank goodness, there’s wine. 8:20 p.m.Twilight stars (did we really need to see them at the Oscars?) pay tribute to big-screen horror. A pointless exercise. If there’s a great horror film, nominate it. Otherwise, move on. 8:10 p.m. Loved the idea that the costume designer who won for The Young Victoria (Sandy Powell) paid tribute to her colleagues who didn’t make films about dead monarchs. 8:06 p.m.Avatar wins its first Oscar, best art direction. I was beginning to forget about James Cameron’s little picture.
7:55 p.m. Mo’Nique thanks the Academy for honoring her performance and not taking the political route. What would have been the political route, Maggie Gyllenhaal? Oh well, Mo’Nique was great, and she deserves her award. 7:50 p.m. Precious beats Up in the Air for best adapted screenplay, the night’s first real surprise. Could this be the start of something, an upset in other categories? I feel bad for Jason Reitman, who did a wonderful job adapting a Walter Kirn novel for Up in the Air.7:40 p.m. Ben Stiller, dressed as a member of Na’Vi nation, manages to make the proceedings seem a whole lot sillier. Presents award for best make-up. Star Trek wins. Could be the first Oscar handed to anyone by a guy with a tail. 7:35 p.m. I’d been rooting for Denver’s Daniel Junge to win in the best documentary short category. He didn’t, but he has a great future.
7:23 p.m. The salute to the late John Hughes is a nice touch. Hughes made teen movies that you didn’t have to be ashamed to watch. Someone mentions that this edition of Oscar seems more scripted than any other in recent history. 7:14 p.m. Mark Boal (The Hurt Locker) upsets Quentin Tarantino and wins for best original screenplay. Finally, something good happens to a journalist — that would be Boal, who covered the war in Iraq. 7:05 p.m. The voters actually picked the best song, The Weary Kind from Crazy Heart.7:10 p.m. Someone at my table says Amanda Seyfried has terrible posture. 6:59 p.m.Up wins best animated feature. Fantastic Mr. Fox gets robbed and Oscar continues on its predictable course.
6:46 p.m. Christoph Waltz wins the Oscar we all expected him to win. Gracious guy. Not a memorable speech, but to the point. Hope Woody Harrelson gets another chance some day. He was terrific in The Messenger. 6:35 p.m. The Oscars or Vegas? I’m bummed already. Hate this set 6:25 p.m. That’s the best I’ve seen Meryl Streep look at an awards show. She finally gets into Oscar glitz. 6:15 p.m. I’ve got a big screen TV over my left shoulder where Jennifer Lopez looms very large. Draw your own conclusions. 5:59 p.m. George Clooney is way too honest. Tells AP that, by now, just about everyone knows who’ll win. Doesn’t expect victories for either Vera Farmiga or Anna Kendrick, both nominated for supporting actress for work in Up in the Air. Thinks the nominations will boost their careers, though.
Paddy Considine squares off with Sean Harris in 1980.
David Morrissey plays a troubled cop in 1983.I don’t know when I’ve seen a movie as devastating as The Red Riding Trilogy, a three-picture adaptation of four novels by British author David Peace. The three movies – which open Friday at the Starz Denver Film Festival – originally were made for British TV and total five hours in length.
Each of the films has a different director, each was shot in a different format (16 mm, 35 mm and digital video) and each takes place in a different year (1974, 1980 and 1983). All the stories are set in Yorkshire, England’s largest county. Each film also involves the notorious Yorkshire Ripper, a serial killer who was convicted in 1981 after murdering 13 women during a five-year period beginning in 1975.
If all this sounds complex, so be it. The Red Riding Trilogy is one of the densest, most complex movies you’ll ever see. On top of that, the thick Yorkshire accents of many of the characters challenge the American ear, and, on occasion, make one long for clarifying subtitles. But if you stick with the three movies, you will, I believe, encounter a masterpiece of darkness, an unremitting chronicle of corruption at every level of society.
Don’t let the Yorkshire Ripper connection mislead you. The Red Riding Trilogy is not a whodunit nor does it peer into the twisted mind of a brutal serial killer. It is a portrait of Yorkshire (and, alas, of the human heart) during the course of 10 tumultuous years.
The movie is held together by a mantra recited by various corrupt officials. “This is the North where we do what we want.” Revelations about police corruption, individual intimidation and the hellish nature of ordinary life are hardly shocking — not anymore. The Trilogy shocks us to the core because of the depth and the extent to which it follows its dark trail of evidence and accusation. The movie makes us feel as if we’ve caught a disease from which we can’t recover, one that’s slowly but inevitably fatal.
Throughout the three movies there are overlaps, recurring characters and references to previous events. Eventually, you begin to pick up the movie’s rhythms, but you also know that each film represents a kind of dare: Keep up or fall hopelessly behind. Like many films that have plunged into dark, violent waters, The Red Riding Trilogy finds an eerie poetry of the underside, something that elevates pulp into art.
A rude, anti-lyricism anchors much of the dialogue, a disturbing directness that reveals the intentions of the characters, almost all of whom are up to no good. These are not epic villains with larger-than-life ambitions. They’re cops you might meet at the local pup. They’re also torturers and deviants who are motivated by the most naked forms of greed, men of appetite.
It’s probably impossible to summarize the three films properly, but it’s worth a fleeting try. The first film, directed by Julian Jarrold and written by Toni Grisoni (who wrote all three movies), centers on a journalist (Andrew Garfield) who’s assigned to cover the Ripper murders.
Garfield’s Eddie Dunford – a reporter for The Yorkshire Post – is no Bob Woodward. Initially bumbling, ill-informed and over confident, Dunford gradually learns the truth about the cops with whom he deals; he’s pulled into a world that seems to revolve around a powerful local businessman (Sean Bean) who wants to build a shopping mall. He also meets the mother (Rebecca Hall) of one of the girls who has disappeared. He falls for her, but don’t expect wine and roses.
The hard truth: When people believe they can do what they want and get away with it, a lot of other people will suffer.
So, no, Eddie Dunford is no hero. It falls to Eddie to deliver the film’s sour opening line, which defines the worst of journalistic impulses: “Little girl missing. The pack salivates.”
Because the movie is set in 1974, the characters are incessant smokers. The images concocted by cinematographer Rob Hardy have the feel of smoke-clogged rooms that leave you gasping for breath. I haven’t smoked in more than 25 years, but watching these characters puff away summoned some sort of residual nicotine memory from deep within my cells, the inescapability of old addictions.
And there are moments of great cinematic prowess. When Eddie decides that his relationship with Paula should go beyond reporter and source, he pauses at her front door. He knocks. She approaches, a hazy figure behind smoked glass. We know in our bones that once she opens that door and Eddie walks through it, nothing ever will be the same for either of them. Of course, the door opens. Of course, Eddie walks through it. The weight of inevitability seems to push Eddie toward his destiny.
Film two, set in 1980, revolves around a cop. Assistant Chief Constable of the Manchester Force Peter Hunter (Paddy Considine) is sent to Yorkshire to learn why the county’s cops have bungled the Ripper investigation. By now, we know that setting foot in Yorkshire is a bit like sinking into quicksand; the more you flail, the worse it gets. But Hunter seems confident, competent and honest. So what if he once had an affair with Helen (Maxine Peake), an investigator he’s chosen to work with him on the case? So what if his wife miscarried while he was on duty? We’re inclined to trust Hunter with his gloomy sense of calm and face full of disappointment.
Directed by James Marsh (Man on Wire), the second film seems more stylish than the first, perhaps because it has been shot in 35 mm. But it takes us even deeper into Yorkshire corruption and makes clear the importance of a ferret-faced Yorkshire cop named Bob Craven (Sean Harris). Craven is an adept torturer and merciless rat who may or may not be overestimating the power that his own brutality gives him. He’s an unashamed sadist.
In the final film, directed by Anand Tucker (Hilary and Jackie) the undercurrents of the plot begin to rise to the surface, coming into focus as much as a movie like this will allow anything to come into focus. The story now centers on Maurice Jobson (David Morrissey), a cop with a drooping mustache and a conscience to match. And be sure of this: A conscience is the last thing anyone needs on the Yorkshire police force of this movie. John Piggot (Mark Addy), a lawyer, also looms large in this portion of the story. Piggot hardly epitomizes legal success, but he’s likable and has a taste for R&B. Reluctantly, he finds himself pushed in the right direction.
Given five hours of movie, it’s neither possible nor desirable to flesh out every detail. The finale of the first movie echoes with the kind of violent retribution that concluded Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver. The scenes of torture in the basement of a Yorkshire precinct house will make you wince, and there are so many well-drawn minor characters I couldn’t keep track of them all: The soft-spoken but creepy Reverend Laws (Peter Mullan); the manipulative male prostitute BJ (Robert Sheehan) or the various Yorkshire police officials who view the world as theirs to plunder.
I’ve heard it said that these movies can be viewed as stand-alone dramas. See one and leave. I don’t think that’s true. The Red Riding Trilogy is an all-or-nothing proposition. Whether you see it now or wait to watch it on DVD, see it. As you watch, you’ll find yourself making connections and coming to small realizations. A character that you’ve seen before will crop up, and you’ll scurry across the landscape of recent memory, trying to identify his or her position in the drama. Eventually, a cumulative power begins to gather.
The Trilogy offers as complete a vision of a shabby, fallen world as anything I’ve ever seen. It’s one hell of an accomplishment — a worldview as well as a movie. Abraham Lincoln may seem an odd person to quote at this point, but I’ll twist a thought Lincoln’s first inaugural address and say that The Trilogy makes us wonder whether the better angels of our nature haven’t grown weary of us and permanently flown the coop.
I look for Hurt Locker to blow up big on Oscar night.
Jeff Bridges should have no trouble taking home Oscar gold.
It pays to be bossy, if you’re Sandra Bullock.
It’s time for the fun game the whole family can play. We’re talking about that international pastime and water cooler preoccupation known as Predict the Oscars. I try not to make too big a deal out of this annual exercise because the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences already makes a big enough deal out of the way it pats itself the back.
Besides, like just about everything else, Oscar has suffered from a bit of deflation. No matter how much the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences tries to hype Oscar, the program never will regain all of its luster. Why? For one thing, Oscar once provided a rare opportunity to observe movie stars in unscripted moments. In era of TMZ and a zillion other compulsive chroniclers of celebrity behavior, that possibility now seems old hat. The entertainment press has dragged the gods down off Olympus and, in many cases, the gods have been more than happy to participate in their fall – all in search of attention in an entertainment marketplace that’s more crowded than a 19th century tenement.
To make matters worse, Oscar follows on the heels of a growing parade of previously televised award shows. It’s still the big enchilada – the gold standard of awards – but by now its nominees have been seen on as many podiums as some hack Congressman up for re-election. I wish Oscar had shown its face prior to the Winter Olympics, not after. If the Academy had waited much longer, it could have given out the Oscars along with a generous helping of Easter eggs.
Award weariness aside, it falls to critics to predict the outcome of a race that has limited capacity to take our breath away – unless an obvious shocker jolts the proceedings, say, District 9 beating both The Hurt Locker and Avatar for best picture.
So here are my predictions in the major categories in a year in which I believe Oscar will spread its largess among a variety of pictures, most of them deserving. Tune in Sunday to see whether I’m in tune with Oscar or hopelessly out of touch.
BEST PICTURE What will win: Hurt Locker What should win:Hurt Locker Upset possibility: The Blind Side
Commentary: A Blind Side victory could emerge as a result of vote splitting among Up in the Air, The Hurt Locker and Avatar, but I’m thinking that director Kathryn Bigelow’s white-knuckle look at an Iraq bomb squad will impress voters because it brought audiences close to fighting men in a war that generally has remained distant to the public. Also, it happens to be the best of the 10 nominated pictures. Avatar wins if the Academy decides that popularity, impressive 3D and a major “wow” factor trump everything else, a distinct possibility, but I’m still predicting victory for Hurt Locker.
BEST DIRECTOR Who will win: Kathryn Bigelow Who should winKathryn Bigelow Upset possibility: James Cameron for presiding over the complicated technological process that brought Avatar to the screen for a piddling $500 million.
Commentary: The best thing about Oscar (aside from whatever fashion disasters loom) will be the Academy’s recognition for Bigelow, a director who happens to be a woman, but who never underestimates the visceral kick that movies provide. She’d be the first woman to win best director. Oh well, it’s only taken 81 previous tries for Oscar to get around to recognizing that there are two sexes, and both can operate behind the camera.
I’m betting that Cameron will not prevail because Bigelow already won the prestigious Directors Guild of America award as the year’s best director. If you take a second look (or a first if you haven’t seen it) at The Hurt Locker, you’ll discover that it’s gripping, vivid and bolstered by superior performances from the trio of actors who played members of the movie’s three-man bomb squad.
BEST ACTOR Who will win: Jeff Bridges, Crazy Heart Who should win: Jeff Bridges Upset possibility: The biggest possible upset would be Jeremy Renner, who played an adrenalin-junkie GI who disarmed bombs in The Hurt Locker.
Commentary: OK, Crazy Heart was a little overrated, but it presents an opportunity to recognize an actor for current efforts and for an impressive body of past work. Conventional wisdom has it that Bridges’ talents have been somewhat overlooked by Hollywood. I’m not sure I buy that, but I have no problem with him taking home a statue that I originally thought would go to George Clooney for playing a downsizing specialist in Up in the Air.
The moral of this story: It never hurts to play a drunk, especially one who sings country/western.
BEST ACTRESS Who will win: Sandra Bullock, The Blind Side Who should win: Carey Mulligan, An Education If there’s an upset:Meryl Streep.
Commentary: Bullock did a fine job in The Blind Side. Her portrayal of the single-minded Leigh Anne Tuohy captured audience hearts and allowed Bullock to dominate a movie about a woman who helped a young black man find his way into a successful football career. Still, the most subtle and revealing performance was given by Mulligan in An Education. She played a bright teen-ager who was seduced by an older man and managed to make it part of a 1960s rebellion against societal limitations on women.
It’s a little weird to put Streep into the upset category, but Bullock seemed to have all the momentum going into the Oscar voting, and although Streep’s portrayal of Julia Child — the great popularizer of French cuisine — in Julie & Julia was strong, she’s already recognized as one of our best actresses. If the voters are feeling particularly frisky, they may just want to honor Gabourey Sidibe for playing the title role in Precious. I’m thinking that won’t happen.
BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR Who will win: Christoph Waltz, Inglourious Basterds Who should win: Christoph Waltz If there’s an upset. Christopher Plummer.
Commentary: Waltz’s performance as Col. Hans Landa in Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds was chilling for its cunning, calmness and eerie politeness. Waltz created one of the scariest screen Nazis ever. The only way he loses is if voters decide that Plummer’s wonderfully generous portrayal of Leo Tolstoy in The Last Station and the actor’s age – he’s 80 – merit recognition. It could happen because like us, the voters have seen all the other awards shows and may just want to assert their independence.
BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS Who will win: Mo’Nique, Precious Who should win: Mo’Nique
Upset possibility: Maggie Gyllenhaal, Crazy Heart.
Commentary. It’s possible that Mo’Nique, a comic by trade, is a one-trick pony when it comes to drama, but the self-justifying speech her character made in Precious was as riveting as anything I saw all year. Mo’Nique tapped into something scary, vulnerable and selfish; she made us understand the monster she was playing without condoning her cruelty.
BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY Who will win: Quentin Tarantino, Inglourious Basterds Who should win: Mark Boal, The Hurt Locker If there’s an upset: There won’t be one.
Commentary: I’m not one of the great fans of Inglourious Basterds, but I’ll say this:. Tarantino writes some of the best scenes you’ll find in contemporary movies. The opening scene of Inglourious Basterds couldn’t have been better, and the movie had other scenes that were almost as good. I don’t think Tarantino’s brilliant scenes always add up to great movies, but if he wins, I’ll be happy for him.
BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY Who will win: Jason Reitman and Sheldon Turner, Up in the Air Who should win: The guys who wrote In the Loop
If there’s an upset: Precious: Based on the Novel ‘Push’ by Sapphire.
Commentary: I’m a big fan of In the Loop, a scorching satire about the way United States and Britain become involved in a war in the Persian Gulf. But Up in the Air, an adaptation of a Walter Kirn novel, is equally deserving. Reitman served up a mainstream entertainment that has something meaningful to say about the current economic chaos; Up in the Air secured Reitman’s place as a director who knows how to entertain with wit and careful observation. I also admire the fact that Reitman refuses to waste his time (or ours) on fluff.
BEST ANIMATED FEATURE What will win. Up What should win: Fantastic Mr. Fox If there’s an upset: The Secret of the Kells.
Commentary: If The Secret of the Kells, which hasn’t had much play in the United States yet, were to win, it would mark of the one greatest upsets in Oscar history. I thought Up, which began brilliantly, was a bit overrated, but that puts me in a distinct minority. I loved Fantastic Mr. Fox, Wes Anderson’s extremely amusing adaptation of a Roald Dahl story; it was funny and boasted the best voice work of the year.
BEST DOCUMENTARY What will win: The Cove What should win: Don’t have a rooting interest this year. If there’s an upset: The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers.
Commentary: I see the possibility of an upset as extremely unlikely. The Cove was technically impressive and advocated for a good cause, halting the slaughter of dolphins in Japan.
BEST FOREIGN-LANGUAGE FILM What will win: The White Ribbon What should win: A Prophet If there’s an upset look for the Israeli film Ajami to emerge victorious.
Commentary: Michael Haneke’s White Ribbon, a look at life in a German village prior to World War I, was slow-moving, creepy and well-acted. It also had the distinctive flavor of an art movie, thanks in part to its stark, black-and-white imagery. The Prophet, about the torments and brutalities faced by an Arab prisoner in a French prison, has more visceral power and made a stronger impression on me. It’s a powerhouse of a movie.
So have at it, folks. Your guesses will be as good as mine. And, to tell you the truth, I hope a lot of my predictions are wrong. That will mean that Oscar night proved far more exciting than expected. Meanwhile, I encourage you to delve deeply into categories that I’ve bypassed. It’s time for your predictions, complaints and anything else that’s on your minds. Good luck, especially if you’re in a pool. These days, every nickel counts.
Tracy Morgan and Bruce Willis are not funny together.
Before I persuaded myself - coerced might be a better word - to write about the new comedy Cop Out, I watched a bunch of Tracy Morgan clips on You Tube. I’d already heard Morgan being interviewed by Terry Gross on NPR, and I’d read an on-line excerpt from the comic’s autobiography, I Am the New Black.
I do not consider myself an expert on all things Tracy Morgan, who stars with Bruce Willis in Cop Out. I’d seen only glimpses of Morgan during his stint on Saturday Night Live, a show I gave up on years ago, and I’m not a regular viewer of 30 Rock, either. But what interested me most about Morgan was his unpredictability.
In almost every televised interview, Morgan managed to catch the interviewer off guard, to twist a question to his advantage; i.e., to turn it into a potentially explosive piece of comedy. He’d strip off his shirt and show his generous belly while simultaneously presenting himself as a babe magnet, a Lothario from the hood. He seemed to suggest that something might go terribly wrong, and the interviewer would be unable to control it.
OK, by now you’re wondering why I’m rattling on about Morgan and haven’t said much about Cop Out, which was directed by Kevin Smith of Clerks, Clerks II, Mall Rats, Dogma, Zack and Miri Make a Porno and other comedies that have won their share of ardent supporters. I’m procrastinating because Cop Out is a colossal disappointment, a formulaic junk yard of a movie that may have been intended as a send-up of every comedy in which a serious white cop (that would be Willis) teams up with a funny black cop (that would be Morgan). Cop Out isn’t 48 Hrs. Hell, it’s not sharp enough to be called 48 Minutes.
This failure results, at least in part, from a misuse of Morgan. He plays a jealous Brooklyn-based detective who thinks his beautiful wife (Rashida Jones) is cheating on him. Morgan’s Paul Hodges reenacts bits from movies, sometimes slobbers on himself and generally plays the oaf to Willis’ Jimmy Monroe. By way of contrast, Monroe is a hard-edged cop who’s divorced and worrying about how he’s going to pay for his daughter’s upcoming wedding, a lavish affair with a whopping $48,000 price tag.
Here’s where the plot enters, and it’s anything but a welcome arrival. In order to pay for the wedding, Willis decides to sell his mint condition Andy Pafko baseball card. Pafko played for the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1951 and 1952. He was in left field when Bobby Thomson’s famous home run sailed into the stands, sending the Giants to the World Series and returning the Dodgers to bumhood.
Through a series of awkward contrivances, the baseball card winds up in the hands of a brutal Mexican drug lord named Poh Boy (Guillermo Diaz). Po Boy also happens to collect his own memorabilia, much of it from Mexican baseball. I wish the movie had stopped in its tracks to talk about Poh Boy’s collection, but Smith - who’s working form a script credited to Mark and Robb Cullin - chooses to insert action into the proceedings.
This leads to another miscalculation. The action - gunplay, car chases, etc. - doesn’t mesh well with the comedy, a common problem in this sort of effort. Smith also messes up some of the sight gags. In an intentionally ridiculous attempt to disguise himself, Morgan’s character appears in a cell phone costume. You’ve probably seen it in the movie’s trailer, where it wasn’t all that funny. On screen, the joke may be even less amusing, extending far beyond its breaking point.
To spice things up, Smith introduces a character played by Seann William Scott, still best known for his work as Stifler in the American Pie movies. Scott plays a thief whose real job is to push the plot along and provide repetitive gags in which he displays a couple of unashamedly juvenile ploys. Say this, though, Scott brings a bit of life to proceedings that sometimes feel weighed down by the deadening shtick that dominates the relationship between Willis and Morgan.
Safe to say that Willis breaks no new ground in Cop Out. I’m no Willis basher. I believe that the guy has real acting chops. Here, though, he relies on the ease with which he commands the camera and a reputation built in a vast library of action movies that saw him tempering violence with irony. The action hero as hipster.
There’s more profanity than imagination on display in Cop Out, which doesn’t maximize the talents of anyone involved. If this is supposed to be an affectionate, gory and amusing tribute to similar movies, it doesn’t work. That would have been a job for a genre freak such as Quentin Tarantino or possibly for Keenen Ivory Wayans (Scary Movie and I’m Gonna Git You Sucka), a comedian who knows something about straight-ahead movie parody.
In Smith’s hands, Cop Out resembles a song sung by someone who’s tone deaf. The result: More pain than pleasure.
Katie Jarvis, Michael Fassbender in a moment of normalcy.
Fish Tank — which tells the story of a hostile 15-year-old who lives in a decaying London suburb — strikes a perfect balance between distressing content and unobtrusive style. As a result, the movie earns its place as a gritty coming-of-age story about a character thrown into situations that require resources she has yet to develop, perhaps never will.
Director Andrea Arnold draws us inside the world of Mia (Katie Jarvis), a young woman who tries to master hip-hop dancing, sneers at her abusive mother (Kiersten Wareing) and the rest of the world and eventually develops an inappropriate, borderline incestuous relationship with her mom’s new boyfriend (Michael Fassbender).
Nuanced where it could have been stark, Fish Tank doesn’t so much create a world as explore one that already seems to exist, and it does so without giving Mia any ingratiating tendencies, aside from the fact that she occasionally tries to free an old horse that’s tethered to cement block outside a trailer.
Jarvis, who plays Mia, is not a professional actress. What she lacks in technique, she makes up for with a face that’s etched in defiance. The jerky, angular movements of Mia’s hip-hop dancing suggest the jerky, angular movements of a life that never runs smoothly. At 15, Mia’s all anger with a measure of adolescent curiosity thrown in.
The story – also by Arnold – finds its catalyst when Fassbender’s Connor shows up. Conner is a hunky, working-class party guy who sometimes acts like a father to Mia and her kid sister (Charlotte Collins). At one point, he takes the family fishing, suggesting a relationship that almost approaches normality. Connor provides a key to Arnold’s approach. We know from the outset that he’s probably up to no good, but he’s not all ogre either. And he clearly doesn’t understand how to draw the line between tenderness and desire. Like everyone else in the movie, he’s damaged goods.
Some of the plot developments regarding Connor are predictable, and Arnold doesn’t seem to know what to do with a kid’s anger any more than Mia does. But we certainly begin to understand the perils of living in a small house where mom is usually drunk and where two girls are left to fend for themselves. If the movie’s resolution isn’t entirely convincing, the chaos of a tough, impoverished environment feels shockingly authentic and tragically real.
Fish Tank isn’t an indictment of society nor is it a trumped-up ode to teen redemption; it is, however, a tribute to Arnold’s apparent belief that full immersion in a world is worth more than any message. Like Mia, we’re left to fend for ourselves.
Michael Cera is inspired to be bold by Portia Doubleday.
Michael Cera carries the burden of his familiar presence lightly enough to keep from wearing out his welcome. InYouth in Revolt, Cera (familiar from Juno and Superbad) again follows in his own footsteps, playing a baby-faced high-school kid who’s afraid he’ll die a virgin.
Obviously, we’ve been down this road before, but director Miguel Arteta (The Good Girl and Chuck & Buck) works hard to provide some fresh views, an effort that probably leads to the movie’s overly generous helping of eccentricity. It’s possible to argue that Youth in Revolt is too quirky by half, but it does offer some real laughs with Cera doing double duty as Nick Twisp and Francois Dillinger. Nick is a high-school student with limited social skills; Francois is Nick’s alter ego. A figment of Nick’s imagination, Francois encourages Nick to assert his independence.
What motivates Nick to rebel in extreme fashion, practically burning down an entire Berkeley block? Nothing less than love — with some lust thrown in for good measure. When Nick’s divorced mother (Jean Smart) and her low-life boyfriend (Zach Galifianakis) drag him off to a trailer court for a vacation, Nick meets Sheeni (Portia Doubleday).
Suddenly, Nick’s life turns around. He finds a potential love interest, although a variety of obstacles clutter Nick’s path. Sheeni, a teen-age Francophile, has a preppy boyfriend (Jonathan B. Wright). Her parents (M. Emmet Walsh and Mary Kay Place) are born-again zealots.
The supporting cast proves more than equal to Arteta’s off-kilter approach. Fred Willard has a nice turn as a naive political activist, and Steve Buscemi shows up as Nick’s increasingly exasperated father. Adhir Kalyan does nice work as one of Nick’s horny pals, a bright kid who speaks fluent French. Ray Liotta tilts nasty as a cop who starts an affair with Nick’s mom and then tries to discipline Nick.
Arteta uses bouncy animated segments for scene-to-scene transitions, and keeps the movie moving. If the comic ideas don’t always play out in hilarious fashion, you at least get to see what Willard might look like if he happened to eat one too many psychedelic mushrooms. I don’t suppose I have to tell you that it’s not a pretty sight. It is, however, a funny one.
Heath Ledger standing tall before the looking glass.
There’s no shortage of imagination in Terry Gilliam’s The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, but when it comes to other matters — a compelling story for example — the movie is running on empty. Less a movie than a tribute to visual abundance, The Imaginarium can succeed only for those who find a portal into its dense and impacted world. Count me among those who couldn’t.
Look, I’ve rooted for Terry Gilliam ever since 1981 when I interviewed him in connection with Time Bandits. In the middle of that interview, Gilliam, who was working on a room-service lunch at a Denver hotel, belched. He followed this untimely expulsion of gas with a mischievous giggle. As this otherwise insignificant episode suggests, Gilliam has an ability to turn odd moments into infectious comedy; he also fearlessly follows his many muses, sometimes driving his movies into muddy ditches of confusion. Such is the case with the exhaustingly muddled The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus.
Watching The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus — notable for being Heath Ledger’s final movie — is like being in a room with a brilliant conversationalist who delights in going off on endless tangents. You admire the skill and effort, but after awhile, you just wish he’d shut up. Many of Imaginarium’s most severe critics have called the movie “indulgent.” I’m not sure that goes far enough in capturing the spirit of Gilliam’s visually dense cornucopia of chaos.
The movie’s confusion also extends to its casting: Four different actors wind up playing the same character. Tony — the character in question — becomes a pawn in the efforts of Dr. Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) to win a bet with the devil (Tom Waits). That’s a reasonably epic conflict, but amid the bric-a-brac of Gilliam’s movie, Parnassus’ bout with the devil seems more fussy than Faustian.
Gilliam didn’t begin with a collaborative approach to casting. The use of multiple actors for a single role stems from the fact that Ledger died before the film was completed. In his stead — Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell signed on to finish the work. Having others fill in for Ledger — ghoulish guest shots — isn’t quite as disorienting as it sounds, but it doesn’t quite do the trick, either.
The movie arrives marked by an unhappy coincidence that seems to have unsettled most critics. The first time we see Ledger, his character is suspended from a hangman’s noose, a macabre reminder that the fine young actor no longer dwells among us. Saved from death, Ledger’s Tony joins Dr. Parnassus’ traveling troupe as it bounces around Gilliam’s depressing cityscapes, contemporary London filtered through Gilliam’s imagination.
When not rattling around London, the characters enter an overblown fantasy world that’s reached via a portal located on the stage used by Dr. Parnassus to present his revue. No more need be said about the story; it didn’t seem to matter all that much to Gilliam, and I certainly didn’t give a hoot about it, either.
A friend who had seen Dr. Parnassus before I had a chance to preview the movie told me that it was bad, comparing it to Gilliam’s woeful Brothers Grimm. I don’t know if I’d go quite that far, but I had plenty of trouble finding a way into The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, a movie that’s less an entertainment than a display of … well …. er …. I’m not sure I know what.
Tracy and Hepburn they’re not. Cage and Mendes share a moment inWerner Herzog’svery crazy Bad Lieutenant.
Despite its title, Werner Herzog’s Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans is only a distant cousin to Abel Ferrara’s 1992 movie — also called Bad Lieutenant. Ferrara’s movie starred Harvey Keitel as the world’s most depraved detective. The new version stars Nicolas Cage as an equally corrupted cop, but one who doesn’t seem to have time to plumb any Dostoevskian depths.
I’d just about given up on Cage, tagging the former Oscar-winner as an actor who appears mostly in the kind of big-ticket movies that have words such as “National Treasure” in the title. But Cage gives his chops a real workout in Bad Lieutenant.
For his part, Herzog — whose career includes both features (Nosferatu and Fitzcarraldo) and documentaries (GrizzlyMan and Encounters at the End of the World) — comes closer to mixing his sensibilities with a straightforward story than he did in 2006’s exciting but more conventional Rescue Dawn.
Part genre exercise and part goof, Bad Lieutenant revolves around Cage’s performance, which is every bit as insane as his character. As a homicide detective with back problems, Cage’s McDonagh snorts cocaine, has a prostitute for a girlfriend, steals drugs from people he threatens with arrest, fraternizes with murderers and smokes a fair amount of pot.
With his shoulders tilted at a sea-saw angle and his face looking as if it’s about to implode, Cage turns himself into a reptile with a badge, something that has crawled out of New Orleans’ post-Katrina waters and can’t shake off all the muck. Assigned to investigate the execution-style murder of a family of five, McDonagh sinks deeper and deeper into reprobate ways. Occasionally, he hallucinates, imagining that he sees a couple of iguanas on a table, for example (Granted, it’s a small field, but Herzog includes the best shot of iguanas with musical accompaniment ever filmed.)
As is the case with any self-respecting neo-noir, plenty of minor characters round out the cast. Eva Mendes plays a hooker who McDonagh keeps supplied with drugs. There are also bookies, gangsters and every other imaginable form of human slime.
Perhaps because he couldn’t quite decide whether to be serious or grimly funny, Herzog walks the fine line between both extremes. He also makes sure to include scenes that etch themselves into noir memory: McDonagh depriving an elderly woman of her oxygen exemplifies the movie’s mean-spirited lunacy. As Cage unleashes a sneering rage that’s almost cartoonish, the scene becomes an exercise in shock and macabre humor.
Usually, I hate a movie with several endings, which is the case with Bad Lieutenant. Herzog can’t seem to let go of this character, and, by the end, I understood why. McDonagh allows Herzog to make a movie that feels as if it has been composed of jazz-like improvisations, riffs so harsh they turn into a kind of warped comedy, something like the rude, low humor of a honking saxophone.
In Denver, Bad Lieutenant wasn’t screened in advance for critics, so I had to catch up with it over the weekend. It’s a seriously twisted movie, which — at least in this case — is a good thing. In New Orleans, Herzog and Cage seem to have pushed each other toward a wild, dangerous and often-funny collaboration. They’ve made a movie that lives proudly on the fringe.
The long list of technical credits for James Cameron’s much-hyped Avatar don’t pile as high as the stacks of money the movie surely will earn, but they do attest to Cameron’s ability to push the medium to its limits. Like Titanic, Avatar will be a box office bonanza, prompting multiple viewings among fans and producing a stream of devotees who believe the movie’s encompassing use of 3D and masterful deployment of motion-capture techniques will revolutionize moviemaking as we know it.
At minimum, Avatar seems destined to become a touchstone for geeks everywhere, and five minutes in, you certainly can see why it took Cameron four years to complete his elaborate sci-fi fantasy.
For more than an hour, I found myself wondering whether Cameron hadn’t achieved what he hoped, a full immersion in a world so compelling, it sweeps you away. But the movie kept on going — two hours and 40 minutes — long enough to expose its deficiencies: the over-ripe pulpy dialogue, the juvenile thinking and the obvious and dated references to such politically explosive matters as Vietnam and Bush era foreign policy.
Avatar’s catalog of effects, which carry the picture a long way, range from industrial-strength macho to Tinkerbell ethereal. And, I swear, I thought of both George Lucas and Walt Disney while watching Avatar, not quite the right references for those us who prefer Cameron in his grisly sci-fi mode, a la The Terminator and Aliens.
The thematic underpinnings of the story can’t be regarded as one of its strongest points: Avatar pits imperialism, materialism and greed against the natural purity of an indigenous population on the planet Pandora. Ravenous corporate earthlings — in cahoots with the military — want to trample the planet, regarding it only as a source of the mineral unobtainium. I’m not making up that name, by the way. Unobtainium? Why not something even less subtle? How about greedium?
The locals — aliens called the Na’vi — live in Pandroa’s forests and are in tune with the natural environment. Cameron imbues the Na’vi with many of the idealized qualities with which Earth’s indigenous populations so often are romanticized. They love of nature and understand how to live in harmony with animals, even ferocious ones. Forget selfish individualism. Among the Na’vi, there’s much talk of “the people.”
Like Titanic, Avatar also revolves around a love story. Sam Worthington plays Jake Scully, a Marine whose legs were paralyzed in combat. Jake arrives on Pandora to replace his late scientist brother. Because Jake shares DNA history with his brother, he’s able to complete his brother’s mission and become an avatar, a creature created by mixing human and alien DNA. A human subject climbs into a sleeping chamber, dozes off and emerges in the wilds of Pandora as an avatar, in this case as a member of the Na’vi tribe, 10-feet tall creatures that look like humans, although they still have tails.
Once propelled into the world of the Na’vi, Jake — or more precisely his Na’vi avatar — is able to walk and run. The Na’Vi princess Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) takes a liking to Jake and initiates him into the ways of the Na’vi, which include learning how to merge with the spirits of other creatures (it’s done by linking tails), riding prehistoric-looking beasts and generally adopting a greener-than-thou attitude. The Na’vi may appear primitive, but their intelligence is more geared toward survival than that of the earthlings, who already have despoiled their own planet.
At times, Avatar almost seems like a fairy tale — assuming you like fairy tales that come fully equipped with bruising battles and thudding heavy machinery. The jungles and floating mountains of Pandora are richly imagined, and state-of-the-art 3D tends to pull you into the world that Cameron so painstakingly has created.
The movie raises questions that are less than groundbreaking. We know that Jake will fall for Neytiri and that he will face a moral dilemma. Will he side with the Na’vi or with the corporate militarists — led by Giovanni Ribisi (as a heartless businessman) and Stephen Lang (as a Marine officer)? Sigourney Weaver signs on as a scientist who believes that the way to win Na’vi hearts is through understanding and diplomacy. She wants to bond with the Na’vi; the corporate guys want to break them to pieces.
I wasn’t bored by Avatar, but the longer it wore on, the more it became apparent that the thinking behind it can be as simplistic as the movie’s technology is complex. And even that wouldn’t matter if it didn’t seem as if Cameron was taking himself so damn seriously. I guess when you’re able to raise somewhere around $300 million to make a movie, ego inflation is inevitable.
And after the revenue-producing triumphs of Titanic, who really believed that Cameron would be content as the self-proclaimed king of only one world?
Well it’s that time of year again. The time when everybody creates a top 10 or best of list for 2009. And of course I will throw in my thoughts to the mix.
In terms of movies there isn’t a lot to say. Most of the drivel from Hollywood is what we have been getting for quite some time now. Half thought out revisioned remakes of ideas done far better in the past. That goes for the revisioned comic books, movies, television shows and books that all hit the silver screen this year. But, against all odds there were a few movies that were actaully worth the money.
1. Watchmen - How could you not see this film? It was the rare exception of Hollywood taking a great story (from a comic graphic novel) and not revisioning it. The result was a beautiful and shocking twist on the concept of what is a superhero.
2. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince - the kids are almost all grown up. The film continues the saga of Potter and friends, and it’s still an interesting fresh movie several films into the series. The acting continues to improve and the story is modeled well after the books.
3. Angels and Demons - How can you go wrong with Tom Hanks and Ron Howard in a movie based on a Dan Brown book? It wasn’t the DaVinci Code, but it sure beat the flood of films this year.
4. Sherlock Holmes - Yes I know it’s not out yet. But I’m willing to bet on the acting ability of Robert Downey Jr. In addition his choices of films has been among the best in the industry. movie trailers can lie (and often do) but I’m willing to go with the talent and say this will make the cut.
And those are my top movies of 2009. But if you were wondering, here are the movies that made the most money (which has nothing to do with the quality of the film):
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen - a movie only matched in its stupidity by the amount of CGI onscereen at any time. This is proof that hype can overwhelm quality if you throw enough money at a marketing campaign. $402 million
Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince - Number 2 on my list, it brought in $301 million. Proof that quality can make money too.
Up - Parents love to take kids to animated films. This one happened to be worth the time as well. $293 million
The Hangover - the surprise hit of the year. I never saw it, it seemed to sophmopric to me. But it brought in $277 million so there must be something to it. Likely to produce a sequel of some sort next year.
Star Trek - This revisioned make-over of the classic original television series was lauded long before it hit a single screen. But after seeing the film I found it more stilted than Shatner doing poetry. If this is the future of sci-fi I feel really bad for the next generation. $257 million. Revisionist sequel guaranteed.
A couple of other notable film revenues for the year:
Twillight: New Moon - just a question, has anyone over the age of 25 seen this film? No one I know over 25 has. $256 million and another film sure to come.
X-men Origins: Wolverine - Destroyed a great idea and character for big money. The only thing good about this film is the payday it made for Hollywood. But a sequel will happen to continue the pain. $179 million
Fast and Furious - Even Vin Diesel can’t save a bad idea. Though it did make enough to guarantee Deisel will continue to star in a few more films. $155 million
GI Joe Rise of Cobra - Hype wins again. An insulting film that makes you want to see Wolverine again. Only exceeded in stupidity and boredom levels by Transformers. Sequel will happen even though anyone above 6 will cringe. $150 million
Angels & Demons - It made a respectable $133 million. Not bad for a sequel, though more was expected.
Terminator Salvation - Not the best continuation of the series. Christian Bale made a good John Connor, but the rest of the film was lazy and as bleak as the future it redises in. But the story ain’t over yet. $125 million
Watchmen - Number 1 on my list only made $107 million. Perhaps it was just too much for audiences to take in. Especially compared to the low-brow low-quality films that topped the money list.
Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes To Jail - Love or hate Perry 2 things are true. He is the biggest boost to getting Black actors in movies since Sidney Poitier and he makes money. What will Madea do next? $90 million
Michael Jackson’s This Is It - The last tribute to the King of Pop. $72 million and it really isn’t even a film.
Land of the Lost - People went to see this? $49 million
Notorious - The worst thing about this film is it probably made enough money to spawn equally bad expoitive cash grabs. $36 million and I have to wonder how doing anything (including sleeping) wasn’t better than the film.
Pink Panther 2, Old Dogs, Halloween 2 (revisioned remake), SAW VI, Fame (revisioned remake) - I’m just amazed that none of these films, though all bad, did better than Notorious. I really hope that doesn’t mean a trend of dead rapper movies.
Well that’s my list, what do you think? Did I miss anything?
One of the more interesting films to be coming out in 2010 is something that no one expected. It’s a Black film - not by Tyler Perry - about a family dealing with the death of the patriach of the family. This is a comedy, so don’t think you can’t see it. And oddly enough it’s a remake (in parts word for word) of a British film of the same name that you probably never heard of.
Death at a Funeral is a film starring some of the best Black comedic actors (and comedians) around now. But don’t think this is a film only for African Americans. This looks to be a film that everyone can see and laugh at.
Chris Rock looks to be making a strong showing in this film as the son trying to keep his family from imploding, or exploding, or getting exposed (literally), at the funeral of his father. Martin Lawrence is his single, womanizing, more successful brother, and favorite of his mother. These 2 men are at the center of a whirlwind of events that make it clear why tragedy is the mirror twin of comedy.
When I saw this tralier I was just laughing out loud. The timing looks to be superb. The jokes are just spot on. The acting looks like everyone wanted to make this work.
The film also stars Tracy Morgan, Danny Glover, James Marsden, Regina Hall, Loretta Devine, Zoë Saldaña, Kevin Hart, Luke Wilson, and Ron Glass. And as I mentioned this is a remake, but in an odd twist on things Peter Dinklage who starred in the original British film will also be in this version.
Now as I mentioned this is a remake. Which sets it apart from the ususal Hollywood trend of revisioning a film. Thus it does not suffer from the pain a revision inevitably creates for an audience. This is also the 2nd remake of the film as there was a Bollywood version of it as well, which again is odd (since the film came out in 2007) but also is a clear indication of the comedy in the film.
Even though the American version contains numerous scenes that are verbatim of the original, the differences between the English stiff upper lip culture and a more animated African American culture makes this copy fresh. Still I want you to know where the ideas come from. Here is a movie trailer from the original
Either way, a film touching on the taboo of homosexuality in the Black community, while injecting the humor of the dysfunction that is family, and including the cast that it does is worth the time. I have to say the thing that really sold me on this film was the following line that is at 2:18 on the movie trailer
“Let me get this straight. Our father was romantically involved with a guy that could fit in his pocket… And you’re mad because he’s White?!” - Chris Rock to Martin Lawrence
Ok, so Tiger Woods has a couple of girlfriends on the side. NO shock, so do most men with his kind of fame and wealth. If he were a rockstar or actor no one would be surprised. But this is a family matter for him, so I won’t speak on the subject further. Celebrities and enetertainers deserve some degree of privacy too.
Moving on to other news I have no problem speaking about, Wall Street 2 is getting ready to hit theaters in 2010. Oh the joy. The theme of this movie? Greed is legal.
Yes, Oliver Stone has made the sequel to the very good 80’s film. It will again star Michael Douglas as the powerful and successful Gordon Gekko. But this time Gekko is not the massive power broker he was in the first time. No the banks are the ultimate bad guys.
This falls directly in line with the views of extremist Stone. It also happens to be right in line with the ultra-liberal tone that Hollywood has been promoting for years now. But the question is if this will make a good movie?
Since about 2000 or so, Hollywood has increasingly made movies that are more political propodanga with filler than movies the public can enjoy. Not that politics has been something foreign to films. Dr. Strangelove is anti-war, anti-nukes, and against the cold war but it was still entertaining. Lions for Lambs, War Inc., and dozens of other recent films that no one watched in theaters of DVD are anything but entertaining.
From the sounds of what Oliver Stone has been saying, Wall Street 2 is more akin to War Inc. than the original Wall Street. It sounds as if it will be yet another film that pushes Stone’s political agenda a the cost of the tickets audiences will pay. Which does not motivate me to see the film, which is a shame since I did enjoy the original.
“Wall Street can be the engine of capitalism” and create opportunity, Stone said to one student. “But they increasingly have not done that because there’s more money in speculation.”
That seems to sum up the view that the new film will be taking. It’s a warped and skewed overly simplistic view of finance, capitalism, and Wall Street but that is fine if that is not the movie’s theme. I don’t want to go to a movie to debate politics, I do that for a living. I want to see a film to be entertained.
Well here is what I understand is the plot of Wall Street 2. Gekko gets out of prison and is a reformed man. He sees an implosion on the horizon and tries to warn the industry, but is ignored since he is a convict. At the same time he is trying to re-establish his relationship with his daughter. His daughter wants nothing to do with him.
His daughter is engaged to upcoming hedge-fund trader Jacob (Shia LeBouf). Jacob’s boss gets killed, possibly by the top boss of the fund (Josh Brolin). Jacob wants revenge.
So Gekko decides to help Jacob in exchange for help with his daughter. Cue the laugh track, or whatever.
I’m bored just writing the synopsis. Considering the views of Stone, and Brolin, I don’t get a good feeling about the film. Thinking of Gekko as a powerless good guy doesn’t work for me. The fact that the simplistic acting skills of Shia LeBouf are the driving force of this movie (to attract younger moviegoers) is another strike against the film. Oh, Charlie Sheen is reported to have a cameo too.
Still the trailers are not yet out. But some stills are available.
If this were a stock, I’d buy the leap put option.
Let’s say that you are a Hollywood executive. So between meetings deciding where you can eat dinner and get the most peer attention, and where to drink to get the most peer attention, you have to figure out a movie to greenlight for Hugh Jackman to be in.
You could:
A) Read through the pile of original scripts that you have been using as a makeshift coffee table
B) Look through your son’s comic book collection
C) Keep watching Nick-At-Nite since you are overstimulated and can’t sleep more than an hour a day anyway
Sadly for Hugh Jackman, or at least his agent, the option picked in real life was C. Thus we have yet another revisioned remake of a Twilight Zone episode coming to a theater near you. Not that the horrendous revisioning of Button Button - in theaters now as The Box - had any influence on the decision.
Yes, Jackman will be starring in Real Steel. A rip-off of the Twilight Zone episode Steel that aired on October 1963 and was based on a short story from 1956. That episode starred a real great actor, Lee Marvin. It was a tale of indomitable spirit and optimism. It was gritty and Black & White. It is so old that whichever Hollywood exec is completely sure that movie-goers by large will have no idea it’s yet another copy of a television show episode (not even a series).
Such is the dearth of ideas that Hollywood is willing to take a chance on. Their quest of “bankable” ideas matched with popular entertainers trump any real effort at providing entertainment more often than not. But at least this is not yet another sequel or comic book to movie conversion or video game to movie conversion.
The premise of the film is basically the same as the Twilight Zone episode. It’s the future. Boxing is now relegated to only androids. Jackman is the owner of a run-down android that is his last chance at success. The theory of the film, as stated so far, is that this will be a Rocky-esque film. I suppose that means the underdog will win even though there is no reason in creation why anyone would ever believe it should happen. Then again there is always the thought
Look, Jackman is ok. But a boxer? Unless he has a crazy intense workout schedule nowhere near believable shape. Especially if they follow the Twilight Zone script and have him fight a machine. Lee Marvin was a WWII Marine Scout Sniper vet with a purple heart. Jackman is a teen heartthrob (ok, maybe to ladies older than that too). Jackman is basically the guy that is the butt of the Eddie Murphy joke (just taller and Australian).
And all of this says nothing of the filler that will be thrown into the movie to fill up the time that is outside of what was already in the Twilight Zone episode. So roughly about 30 minutes of new material from writers that haven’t done anything truly original in decades. That worked out really well in The Box. I expect about the same here.
The only real hope of this film lies in the director. Shawn Levy is known for his Night at the Museum - which was decent - and the atrocious Pink Panther revisioning. That’s 50/50 odds, not including the fact that Real Steel is not a comedy. My hopes are not rising.
But there is time before the trailers come out (in 2010). Who knows, maybe a writer with a spark of originality might be hired as a Christmas gift to the public. Or more likely, accountants have figured out that it’s time for another great White hope, and theaters are the only place it will really pay off even if it sucks.
Well after being rumored and discussed by gamers for years, Prince of Persia has finally made the conversion to the big screen - no gaming system required. Yes another in the growing line of video game to movie conversions is coming for the 2010 movie season.
What we can tell from the trailer immediately is that much of the violence and gore that the game is known for will not be in the movie. That’s because this is a Disney film and will likely be targeted to the pg-13 rating target market. So that takes away from the story - if in fact the movie will follow the well executed script of the video game at all.
Beyond that revelation the big question is if this will be done well. Will it be some kiddie action flick pr something that adults and 20-something fans can really get into. Pirates of the Caribbean proved that a conversion film could do both. But there is no shortage of films that squander the source materials following and rich content. (think of Silent Hill, or more recently Resident Evil: Extinction)
The visuals of the film look big. Very expansive and rich in detail. There is no fear of CGI in this film. And some of the scenes look like the use of CGI plays out well. Though overuse of CGI tends to give me a feeling that a film is more cartoony than anything else.
We can also see that some of the gameplay elements of Prince of Persia is in the movie. The question with that is if these elements are just incidental items that work best in a trailer, or if they are integral to the movie itself. Generally in a conversion movie the answeer is more the former than latter.
Perhaps the one thing that really bugs me is none of the above. It’s the star Jake Gyllnehaal. He is matched up with Ben Kingsley who is a far superior actor (Bloodrayne excepted) and thus may not fare well in scenes with the 2 together. Add to that the fact that I don’t see Gyllenhaal as a Persian. He does not seem to have those qualities to me. Which makes sense since he is of Swedish decent. It may not be a big thing to some fans, but its a bit of a distraction seeing a Swede in Arabia as the main hero to me.
But if geography, and the expectation of seeing native populations in their homelands, is not something you ever pay attention to then the film should move along well. My guess is that the film’s plot will be about as engaging as Conan the Barbarian was. Not a great film, but good enough to watch without much complaint. Nor will you be bothered with remembering much of what the film was about 5 minutes after watching it.
None of this will stop the film from making at least $250 million worldwide. Much of that (maybe 35%) will come in the first weekend as fans of the video game, Gyllenhaal, action fans, and those interested in Gemma Arterton (probably best known for her role as Strawberry Fields in Quantum of Solace and soon to be seen again in the Clash of the Titans revisioning). After that weekend, I think the hype will be over and the buzz will reveal that this is an ok film but not much more.
So there you go. One of the first films of the 2010 summer blockbuster season.
John Cusack carries the weight of a crumbling world.
It’s getting more difficult to enjoy the end of the world — at least at the movies. I really wanted to like 2012, the latest orgy of destruction from director Roland Emmerich (The Day After Tomorrow and Independence Day). I’m shamelessly partial to disaster movies and have a strong tolerance for the melodramatic plotting and portentous dialogue that usually keeps them from greatness.
As a disaster enthusiast, I had big expectations for 2012 and for Emmerich, a proven master of the destructive cinematic art. Emmerich kept me happy enough, but not without making it impossible for me to suspend even the tiny amount of disbelief needed to carry his demolition derby across the finish line. 2012, I’m afraid, is another case of multi-million dollar effects and a two-bit script.
This time out, Emmerich takes his cue from the Mayan calendar, creating a “story” based on the notion that the world will endure a horrible cataclysm in 2012. Never mind that many scholars say the Mayans predicted no such thing; it’s a fine premise for a movie that wants to rip the guts out of the Earth and leave us trembling. Remember the quaint old days when destroying a ship (The Poseidon Adventure) or a skyscraper (The Towering Inferno) were enough to keep us riveted?
When it comes to global mayhem, Emmerich doesn’t disappoint. Great explosions erupt on the surface of the sun. The Earth’s core heats up. Neutrinos go wild. The crust of the Earth shifts, and before you can say “apocalypse for fun and profit,” the globe descends into unprecedented turmoil.
Against this backdrop of doom, Emmerich attempts to weave a variety of stories. This means he employs actors, many of whom are required to spout some of the year’s most banal dialogue. They’re also asked to gape in faux astonishment at the effects or scream like kids on a particularly precarious amusement park ride.
The movie’s main character is author Jackson Curtis (John Cusack). On a camping trip to Yellowstone, Curtis meets Charlie Frost (Woody Harrelson). Harrelson plays a longhaired, hippie prophet who broadcasts his warnings over his personal radio station and who knows the world is coming to an end. He warns Jackson to gather his two children (Liam James and Morgan Lily) and flee Yellowstone.
For his part, Harrelson seems to be doing an impression of Dennis Hopper in Apocalypse Now. If there’s a piece of scenery he leaves unchewed, I didn’t see it. Thankfully, Harrelson redeems himself in The Messenger, an upcoming drama about ramifications of the war in Iraq.
Considering that he’s making a gigantic B-movie, Emmerich populates his film with a competent and even impressive group of actors. Amanda Peet signs on as Cusack’s former wife, and Danny Glover plays the president of the United States, a job that he must have wrestled away from Morgan Freeman, who until 2012 seemed to have a lock on such roles.
Three cheers for British actor Chiwetel Ejiofor, who appears as a geologist and who succeeds in making the movie’s tripe-laden dialogue almost believable. Oliver Platt, another gifted actor, portrays the president’s cruelly pragmatic chief of staff, and George Segal signs on as musician traveling on a cruise ship that eventually will be consumed by the giant tsunami that engulfs the world.
At two hours and 38 minutes, 2012 is way too long. But the first hour provides the grim pleasures we expect from this kind of entertainment. Los Angeles falls into the sea; Las Vegas is destroyed. Ditto for Yellowstone National Park, Washington, D.C., Rome and Rio. These expensively mounted cheap thrills include great chunks of heaving earth, flying fireballs, crumbling skyscrapers and spewed volcanic ash. To add to the excitement, a small plane flies through storm-tossed skies carrying Cusack’s character, his former wife, his children and his wife’s new husband (Thomas McCarthy).
Never mind more details. Know, though, that if you expect anything in this mega-movie to make sense, you’ve taken leave of your own.
But wait. Maybe one thing about 2012 makes perfect sense: This destruction festival is designed to create a great rumble at the box office. Know what? It probably will. Devastation sells, and, I’ll admit it: Up to a point, I’m a willing buyer.
Michael Sheen coaches with style in The Damned United.
Years ago, I read a story about golf. The only reason I remember this particular article is that I eventually found myself at the end of it, a surprise because my interest in golf is roughly the same as my interest in illustrated medieval manuscripts. I can see why other people are intrigued, but I have no desire to follow suit. The story — by gifted Washington Post writer Thomas Boswell — made something interesting out of something that fails to make my meter race.
I felt the same way about The Damned United, a movie that takes place in the rough-and-tumble world of British football, known to us Yanks as soccer. I have no pressing interest in soccer, but found myself caught up in a story that uses professional soccer as an arena in which to examine what happens when a rising star overestimates his abilities.
The resultant kick toward reality may be predictable, but the way in which its developed proves entertaining and revealing, thanks in part to some wonderful British actors and to a script that reflects a deep understanding of the human capacity for hubris. I don’t know whether Peter Morgan’s screenplay — based on a novel by David Peace — is entirely accurate, but the movie’s take on the combustible combination of ego and big-time sports certainly rings true.
Damned United focuses on real-life coach Brian Clough (Michael Sheen), who became a British media star, so much so that he audaciously compared himself to Muhammad Ali. Clough, who died in 2004, saw himself as a man who could do no wrong when it came to soccer, and — for a time — he justified every bit of his brazen self-regard. In short, he won soccer matches.
It’s no surprise that Sheen proves perfectly matched with the role of a smooth operator who’s forced to learn the limits of his talent. The actor did equally strong work in The Queen and Frost/Nixon, movies Morgan also wrote.
Director Tom Hooper, who mostly has plied his trade in television, follows a career in which the youthful Clough is taken down a peg or two. In what I’d deem a brilliant move, Hooper concludes before Coach Clough earns his reputation as one of the greatest managers in British football history. Hooper must have understood the time-tested axiom: Failure generally proves a better teacher than triumph.
The story begins in familiar fashion. Clough kicks off his career by making a name for himself in the British backwaters. Jim Broadbent — does this guy ever hit a false note? — portrays the owner of Derby County, the team with which Clough’s rise to stardom begins. Broadbent plays a puffed-up managerial type, which means he doesn’t like to spend money. He’s ultimately bested by Clough, who insists on doing things his way.
Based on his success with Derby County, Clough was hired in 1974 to coach Leeds United, a glamor team with a phenomenal record. Former Leeds coach Don Revie (Colm Meaney) had moved on, taking command of the British national team.
Clough lived to surpass Revie, whom he regarded as a man who encouraged the kind of dirty play that undermined the game’s elegance. Clough might have fared better had he not moved to Leeds without the help of assistant Peter Taylor (Timothy Spall). Taylor, we learn, played a major role in Clough’s success. Taylor lacked the flash that turned Clough into a celebrity, but he had an unfailing eye for talent. Left to his own devices, Clough never was able to take control of the Leeds team. His career sputtered.
Damned United is as involving a sports movie as I’ve seen in a long time, not because it shows us great soccer footage, but because it helps us understand the intricacies of character that drive men who try to prosper in the pressure-cooker environment of professional sports. This is one sports movie in which most of the sweating occurs off the field.
Well it’s almost a year to the day that I mentioned 2012, and one thing is certain. The hype surrounding that date, and likely this movie, is only growing with time.
There wasn’t a lot known in 2008 about this film - other than it would be the disaster film that might relaunch the trend in films (at least until 2012). It is sure to be followed by numerous other films based on exactly the same theme. The question is were the Mayans thinking of this film when they thought of how the world might end?
The latest movie trailer for 2012 looks like this
By the way, the words on the side of the number at mark 2:35 appear to be “Into A Place GUE[? not sure of this] Apocalaypse” which might be a reference to
“And he gathered them into a place called in the Hebrew tongue Armageddon” Revalations 16:16
So it seems that the film is going to try to fit in several messages besides the CGI shock and awe. That is a bad sign though. When movies try for political or other messages generally you get crap like Lions for Lambs or War, Inc. (didn’t see them? No one did).
Given some of the imagery of the film, and who is in it, conspiracy nuts will likely love this film. I’m not knocking Danny Glover, John Cussack, Oliver Platt, Thandie Newton or any of the other actors in the film - at least for their acting ability. But several of these actors are also known for their hyper left-wing political leanings and more than a few oddball beliefs. If this film is feeding into that part of their lives, well another big budget film that went that route is Battlefield Earth.
Add to that the facts of what the director has done, as I stated before
“The director is Roland Emmerich, who made Stargate, Independence Day, and Godzilla. Sadly he also made Godzilla, Universal Soldier, The Day After Tomorrow, and 10,000 BC. So the odds are only slightly worse than 50/50 on how well it will be made.”
But this film will probably do really well no matter what. I mean NASA is already trying to debunk the internet hype over 12/21/12. They have already made the case against a wayward planet hitting us, which I never believed. But as to the only issue that I do give some credence to, a shift in the polarity of the planet - well NASA is less believable.
Of course this film seems to be more than a magnetic shift of poles. It looks like it is based on the theory that the tectonic plates are going to move. Which makes for great CGI scenes, but hardly believable. And thus the film looks to be squarely fit next to The Day After Tomorrow - a horribly acted, unbelievable sci-fi scenario, that proved to be a bore and waste of money if you paid to see it in theaters.
I said a year ago that we will have 3 years to mull the quality of this film. Having seen the full trailer and noting the hidden message(s) already available, I don’t think it will take 3 years. Unless there is more to this film than what the movie trailer - which is meant to provide the best reasons to see this film - has shown, this is a film to avoid until the world ends. Which is a shame.
Well maybe the next 2012 disaster film, soon to be released no doubt, will be better.
So what happens when you have several old actors, a couple that never made it big time, and a few newbies thrown in for the hell of it? Well you could make a film that has been done a dozen times before.
Armored is a film we all have seen before. It’s a heist film. Which means it’s the same as Heat, or the Sting, or even a major sub-plot for The Shield. The question is really, is this a well done version of the same old thing?
As can be seen, the film is looking to convince with a couple of interesting tidbits. There is the influence of Laurence Fishburne, and Jean Reno. There is a bit of the old in Matt Dillon resurfacing in a major film after decades of straight to DVD films. Plus there is Skeet Ulrich, the go to guy for looking like you have Johnny Depp in a film.
The concept is simple and obvious. An inside job, planned to the very detail. Except a detail comes up that was never considered. And there is where the film will be made or broken.
This is not a deep film with a massive twist from start to finish like Inside Man. This is not a bad versus even worse like on The Shield. It isn’t a catchy slick con like Ocean’s Eleven. It isn’t even cops and robbers like Heat. It’s just how bad people can get like Treasure of the Sierra Madre. (hope you saw all those films to get what I mean)
The questions that hit me are far from the movie trailer itself. Is this a film that Lawrence Fishburne had enough time to really commit to since his work on CSI? Is this a good film that just doesn’t fit the summer blockbuster season, or is it a fill-in until Oscar season yet better than the ususal January throw-aways? Will Matt Dillon finally make the comeback he has been hoping for or is this another cable standard?
None of the questions I pose are the ususal ones asked about a film by the general public. Still they all reflect the quality of the film. In all likelyhood I expect this film to do 2 things:
Justify the desire to have a nice thriller/action film before the feel good and Oscar (boring) contenders come out
Keep the audience busy for 1 1/2 hours of their life
Now I will add to this. I felt the same way prior to seeing Inside Man. I came away from that film far more rewarded than I went into it. Low expectations can be a good thing when you get a quality piece of film. But low expectations are more the norm from the copycat and derivative nature of Hollywood films these days.
Still I think that this might live up to more than what it looks like. There are far too many good actors for me to think this is just a throwaway. The trailer is not filled with just random action impling the lack of a plot. It almost asks you to see it to be sure exactly how good it might be.
Would I see this instead of Ninja Assassin? No. But I would see both films. The only thing is that I am pretty sure what I will get from Ninja Assassin. I’m not as sure this will be worth the $20 a ticket. Though it at least seems like it might be, which is better than most films out around this time of year.
Disclaimer:
Movies and Film Blog is owned by 1800blogger which is a (for) profit organization. We are not a charity. If you send any money through this button, please understand that the money is being used for working capital for Movies and Film Blog and 1800blogger. Please check with your accountant to see if this is a tax-deductible contribution.
