The Rocker is a prime example of what happens when talented people are paired with utterly pedestrian material. This story of an aging rocker (more of a “never-been” than a “has-been”) who finds redemption by joining his nephew’s garage band (called A.D.D.), is just plain uneven. Many of the performances, and some of the writing, are sharp and memorable, but this cannot erase the fact that much of the story is derivative and, worse, a bit boring.
Rainn Wilson plays the eponymous rocker (real name Robert 'Fish' Fishman) with a great combination of earnestness, self-delusion and bizarre-itude unlikely to be conjured by another performer. This role gives Wilson a chance to prove that he does not have to play idiosyncratic second banana roles on the big screen (My Super Ex-Girlfriend was not worthy of his talents). Wilson carries a unique energy that is far more nuanced than say Will Farrell or even Jack Black. Killer work is also put in by Jason Sudekis (whose turn as the band’s manager takes being a douchebag to unexplored and hilarious heights) and Christina Applegate as the mother of A.D.D.s frontman (Applegate needs to recognized as a great comedic performer by everyone, right now).
The teens in the movie, however, don’t quite hold up their end of the film. Emma Stone (Superbad) is a promising young star but this is her least interesting performance to date. Josh Gad plays Fish’s nephew with a certain degree of comic grace but has inserted too many Jonah Hill-isms to make it an original work. The least intriguing of these young actors, Teddy Gieger, gets the most to work with as the band’s dreamy/brooding lead singer. The trouble is Geiger fails to brood or to make us dream about him even a little.
Beyond the performances, The Rocker feels structurally uneven as well. The story of A.D.D. feels like something that didn’t pass muster at Nickelodeon so a more adult comedy was superimposed on top of it. The great writing in the film’s stands out because it is surrounded by so much that borders on dreck. It is fashionable these days to put a certain degree of heart into Hollywood comedies (a trend that does not necessarily need to be endorsed). The Rocker's attempt at pathos seems so contrived (the audience can feel themselves entering a “touching” scene) it makes one yearn for the tenderness of even School of Rock. As with many films that surround fictional bands, the music is so lame that the notion of the group making it big is simply not believable.
So Rainn Wilson will have to wait a bit longer before he gets his breakout picture. If you want a completely satisfying movie, you will have to wait a bit longer as well.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Pineapple Express: The story of the love between a man and his dealer
Screenwriters Seth Rogan and Evan Goldberg have the heterosexual male love story market cornered. Last summer’s Superbad explored what happens when two high school guys realize they love each other over the course of one crazy evening. Pineapple Express follows a very similar story arc except this time it is the love shared between schlubby stoner Dale (Rogan) and his dealer Saul (James Franco). Just as in Superbad the duo bond, have misadventures, fight, and reunite; only this time there is the added element of wacky tobaccy to enhance their experience and impede their progress.
Unlike those in Superbad, the misadventures found here tend to be full of violent activity. The refreshing part is that nearly all of the violence comes with consequences. There is no panache or swagger in the scrapes that Saul and Dale find themselves in, just a lot of pain and awkwardness. Director David Gordon Green is careful to never dip into slapstick. The violence is funny because it is so real. The viewer knows that an actual fight amongst normal dudes would look way more like Pineapple Express than something out of Under Siege.
The real draw of the film is James Franco. At first his stoner shtick is funny because he is cast against his normal dashing type; soon his shtick is funny because he is talented. Too many of the current crop of comedians simply rely on their personalities for a laugh. Franco actually uses acting skills to bring Saul Silver to life. This gives the film a nuance not found in many Judd Apatow produced movies(yes the uber-producer found time to put his name on this picture as well) where a great deal of fun is had by the actors and only some of that is transferred over to the audience. Franco shines opposite Rogan who, while still lovable and hilarious, is playing the same guy from Knocked Up, 40-Year Old Virgin, and Superbad.
Rogan more than makes up for his minimal range with his skills as a writer. This script has a seemingly endless number of killer lines and winning moments. He and Goldberg have a lighter touch than Apatow; both the raunch and the sentiment seem more realistic and palpable. The scenarios the characters find themselves in don’t seem forced to create a laugh (as is the case in the Harold and Kumar movies). The comedy comes from small moments and reactions that come across as genuine. Besides writing an out-of-place and over-the-top role for Ed Begley Jr. (as the father of Dale’s girlfriend) and an end sequence that drags past the point of interest, these young writers have produced another wonderful script. Pineapple Express may be the closest thing to a truly enjoyable romantic comedy to be produced in years.
Unlike those in Superbad, the misadventures found here tend to be full of violent activity. The refreshing part is that nearly all of the violence comes with consequences. There is no panache or swagger in the scrapes that Saul and Dale find themselves in, just a lot of pain and awkwardness. Director David Gordon Green is careful to never dip into slapstick. The violence is funny because it is so real. The viewer knows that an actual fight amongst normal dudes would look way more like Pineapple Express than something out of Under Siege.
The real draw of the film is James Franco. At first his stoner shtick is funny because he is cast against his normal dashing type; soon his shtick is funny because he is talented. Too many of the current crop of comedians simply rely on their personalities for a laugh. Franco actually uses acting skills to bring Saul Silver to life. This gives the film a nuance not found in many Judd Apatow produced movies(yes the uber-producer found time to put his name on this picture as well) where a great deal of fun is had by the actors and only some of that is transferred over to the audience. Franco shines opposite Rogan who, while still lovable and hilarious, is playing the same guy from Knocked Up, 40-Year Old Virgin, and Superbad.
Rogan more than makes up for his minimal range with his skills as a writer. This script has a seemingly endless number of killer lines and winning moments. He and Goldberg have a lighter touch than Apatow; both the raunch and the sentiment seem more realistic and palpable. The scenarios the characters find themselves in don’t seem forced to create a laugh (as is the case in the Harold and Kumar movies). The comedy comes from small moments and reactions that come across as genuine. Besides writing an out-of-place and over-the-top role for Ed Begley Jr. (as the father of Dale’s girlfriend) and an end sequence that drags past the point of interest, these young writers have produced another wonderful script. Pineapple Express may be the closest thing to a truly enjoyable romantic comedy to be produced in years.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
The Dark Knight
Midway through The Dark Knight, the Joker reveals why the knife, not the gun, is his weapon of choice. He explains that, with a knife you get to slow down, take a closer look, and really see what your enemy is made of. It is as if Christopher Nolan and his crew followed this same creed when making their movie. They have slowed down the superhero movie, even more so than with Batman Begins, so that the audience can take a closer look at each character and get to know what each is made of.
To make a character driven summer blockbuster is a bold decision, what with the millions of dollars spent and a franchise on the line. The effect however, is rather remarkable. It is the interplay between the actors that stands out as far more memorable than any particular action sequence (most of the explosions prominently displayed in the preview are spread quite tastefully throughout the movie). The mood cast is so ominous and dark that all of merchandising tie-ins don’t quite fit.
Such a film requires above average talent in front of the camera and most of the actors thrive in this picture. Heath Ledger is given the space to convey exactly how terrifying it would be to have a scarred (physically and emotionally) lunatic in clown make-up loose in your city. Much has been written about the power of Leger’s final complete performance, but it remains a revelation in spite of the hype. Given the chance to play the most iconic comic book villain ever, he simply took the role and ran to further, deeper, creepier places than any other actor in the genre. Ever.
In the rush to praise Ledger, Aaron Eckhart’s performance as district attorney Harvey Dent should not go unnoticed. The movie hinges on the continuum between good and evil with Batman on one end and the Joker on the other; Harvey is unfortunately caught in the middle. Eckhart plays the fall from grace well exuding equal parts charisma and chaos. It is not often that an actor playing the “other man” (Dent has taken up with Bruce Wayne’s ex Rachel Dawes) can pull such sympathy from the audience. This feeling remains even as Dent travels down a very dark path.
The actor who has the least to work with is Christian Bale, the man playing the titular role. Bale plays Bruce Wayne and his alter ego with the same complexity as seen in the first movie (though why he uses that weird husky voice as Batman is still unanswered; perhaps that is what the third installment is all about) but his character doesn’t really change or progress in The Dark Knight. It is as if Nolan was more interested in exploring the newly introduced characters and Batman was just a conduit for this to be done.
This unevenness can be seen in other aspects of the film. There were points where the filmmakers missed the mark regarding what the audience needed or wanted in this film. Some minor characters were given way too much screen (no one cares that much about Commissioner Gordon’s family). There is a completely superfluous trip to Hong Kong taken early in the movie that adds nothing to the narrative (seriously, if someone can explain why this segment was needed I will give you $1.50). All of this could have been jettisoned for more face-to-face time between Batman and the Joker.
Much like Iron Man, The Dark Knight shows us what can happen when smart people are put in charge of huge blockbuster movies. The result can be thought provoking, entertaining, but most importantly satisfying. In the next few years there will be dozens of superhero releases in theaters. One can only hope that at least some of these filmmakers will approach their work with a knife instead of a gun.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Hancock
The best fantasy stories are those that do not disconnect from real life. What makes, for example,Night of the Living Dead so great is that it does not transport you to another world. Instead it attempts to seriously answer the question, "how would ordinary Americans respond to waking up in a world surrounded by brain munching zombies?" One fantastical element has been introduced into a world that is otherwise frighteningly similar to our own. This guarantees a connection between the audience and the story that is absent when the movie is shot on location in Middle Earth or Tatooine.
Director Peter Berg and screenwriters Vincent Ngo and Vince Gillian have locked onto this concept with Hancock. The questions they pose are, “What would it be like if an American city had a resident with superpowers?” and “What would be the psychological effects of those powers on that resident?” Their film is not set in Metropolis or Gotham City but in a very real Los Angeles filled with haters, media pundits, and lawyers all who have a problem with their city’s “hero.” The “hero” himself, John Hancock (Will Smith), isn’t blessed with the mental/social/emotional fortitude that the real life of a superhero would entail. He hits the bottle hard (this is perhaps the first film in which FUI, Flying Under the Influence is captured, to hilarious effect), has trouble relating to the normals he protects, and lives the life of a vagabond (in the real world it would be hard for such a person to make a living).
Toying with this concept keeps the first two-thirds of Hancock afloat with great success. By keeping the usual villains and explosions fair to a minimum, time is instead spent ruminating on how the private life of a super human would be quite melancholy. This is helped by a strong performance from Smith, who uses more of the pathos honed in Ali and Pursuit of Happyness than his usual 4th of July bravado to win the audience over. This is no easy feat as Hancock begins the film as possibly the least likable superhero in recent memory. Smith has great chemistry with Jason Bateman whose PR guy takes Hancock as a client to capitalize on America’s love for an extreme makeover. Their banter produces many of the movies best laughs.
As the Hancock progresses and begins to resemble other superhero stories it becomes a bit less interesting. It is as if Berg and his team couldn’t resist the temptation of creating an end product with at least some franchise and Happy Meal potential. This does not distract from the fact that this movie dared to do what needs to be done in the oversaturated superhero genre: take it somewhere new. We do not need any more origin stories or montages showing the creation of your super suit. It has been done. Movies like Hancock have the ability to keep the genre viable and interesting for years to come.
Director Peter Berg and screenwriters Vincent Ngo and Vince Gillian have locked onto this concept with Hancock. The questions they pose are, “What would it be like if an American city had a resident with superpowers?” and “What would be the psychological effects of those powers on that resident?” Their film is not set in Metropolis or Gotham City but in a very real Los Angeles filled with haters, media pundits, and lawyers all who have a problem with their city’s “hero.” The “hero” himself, John Hancock (Will Smith), isn’t blessed with the mental/social/emotional fortitude that the real life of a superhero would entail. He hits the bottle hard (this is perhaps the first film in which FUI, Flying Under the Influence is captured, to hilarious effect), has trouble relating to the normals he protects, and lives the life of a vagabond (in the real world it would be hard for such a person to make a living).
Toying with this concept keeps the first two-thirds of Hancock afloat with great success. By keeping the usual villains and explosions fair to a minimum, time is instead spent ruminating on how the private life of a super human would be quite melancholy. This is helped by a strong performance from Smith, who uses more of the pathos honed in Ali and Pursuit of Happyness than his usual 4th of July bravado to win the audience over. This is no easy feat as Hancock begins the film as possibly the least likable superhero in recent memory. Smith has great chemistry with Jason Bateman whose PR guy takes Hancock as a client to capitalize on America’s love for an extreme makeover. Their banter produces many of the movies best laughs.
As the Hancock progresses and begins to resemble other superhero stories it becomes a bit less interesting. It is as if Berg and his team couldn’t resist the temptation of creating an end product with at least some franchise and Happy Meal potential. This does not distract from the fact that this movie dared to do what needs to be done in the oversaturated superhero genre: take it somewhere new. We do not need any more origin stories or montages showing the creation of your super suit. It has been done. Movies like Hancock have the ability to keep the genre viable and interesting for years to come.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wanted, but not by me
At the beginning of the month I vowed not to see Wanted along with several other movies I knew would put me into a depression that no one needs in July. As soon as those words were posted in cyberspace, I began hearing positive things about Wanted, particularly from Public Radio’s David Edelstein (listen to his review here). So I broke down and went to see what the, albeit minor, buzz was about.
We all know them, perhaps they are our coworkers, or even our relatives. We all know the individuals who do their jobs so poorly that whenever they show even a glimmer of competence, they are showered with praise. These people have learned a very important life lesson and have taken it to heart: lower the expectations and you will be praised for mediocrity.
Wanted seems to follow the same maxim. What is essentially a heartless mash up of The Matrix, Fight Club, Office Space, and a little more Matrix, is peppered with a few glimmers fun, ingenuity, and panache. The rest of the movie is so dreadful that these moments stand out and undoubtedly lead to the positive feelings of movie goers.
Let’s examine the dreadful parts of the movie. James McAvoy puts a great deal of effort into keeping down his Celtic accent and is successful maybe seventy-six percent of the time. Angelina Jolie is so spindly skinny that it becomes distracting (if she keeps on this emaciating path the only role she will be able to land will be that of one of those haunted trees that live mythic forests) and the flatness of her delivery is supposed to be cool but it is just flat. Much of the dialogue is babble compiled from other films (some of the writing seems to be cribbed from movies that weren’t even that good) and it is all delivered without the slightest conviction by any of the actors. Morgan Freeman doesn’t seem to think that his role as an Obi-Wan like master assassin requires anything different than his roles as Batman’s weapons maker, Tim Robbins cell mate, or a comet-fighting president.
But just as these elements drive Wanted to the point of unwatchability, there comes a moment of mild creativity, usually in the form of an action sequence or sight gag, and the audience breathes a sigh of relief. These moments stand in such stark contrast to the majority of the film that they begin to define it. Like that one year that your dead beat cousin remembered to call grandma on her birthday, it is these moments that live on in the memory of the viewer.
A similar movie that conjures up more positive memories is Shoot ‘em Up (check out my thoughts here) which is available on DVD.
We all know them, perhaps they are our coworkers, or even our relatives. We all know the individuals who do their jobs so poorly that whenever they show even a glimmer of competence, they are showered with praise. These people have learned a very important life lesson and have taken it to heart: lower the expectations and you will be praised for mediocrity.
Wanted seems to follow the same maxim. What is essentially a heartless mash up of The Matrix, Fight Club, Office Space, and a little more Matrix, is peppered with a few glimmers fun, ingenuity, and panache. The rest of the movie is so dreadful that these moments stand out and undoubtedly lead to the positive feelings of movie goers.
Let’s examine the dreadful parts of the movie. James McAvoy puts a great deal of effort into keeping down his Celtic accent and is successful maybe seventy-six percent of the time. Angelina Jolie is so spindly skinny that it becomes distracting (if she keeps on this emaciating path the only role she will be able to land will be that of one of those haunted trees that live mythic forests) and the flatness of her delivery is supposed to be cool but it is just flat. Much of the dialogue is babble compiled from other films (some of the writing seems to be cribbed from movies that weren’t even that good) and it is all delivered without the slightest conviction by any of the actors. Morgan Freeman doesn’t seem to think that his role as an Obi-Wan like master assassin requires anything different than his roles as Batman’s weapons maker, Tim Robbins cell mate, or a comet-fighting president.
But just as these elements drive Wanted to the point of unwatchability, there comes a moment of mild creativity, usually in the form of an action sequence or sight gag, and the audience breathes a sigh of relief. These moments stand in such stark contrast to the majority of the film that they begin to define it. Like that one year that your dead beat cousin remembered to call grandma on her birthday, it is these moments that live on in the memory of the viewer.
A similar movie that conjures up more positive memories is Shoot ‘em Up (check out my thoughts here) which is available on DVD.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Hellboy II: The Golden Army
The comic book universe is a visual universe. Without comparable visual creativity and skill, a comic book movie falls flat (see the Joel Schumacher Batman movies for evidence of this). This is certainly not the problem with either of Guillermo del Toro’s Hellboy pictures; in fact the films may actually improved upon Mike Mignola’s 2-D incarnation. The titular character (a demon raised by humans to defend against various mythical nair do wells) and his team of misfit crime fighters come to life in a way that the Hulk, for example, never has. The trouble with Hellboy II: The Golden Army is once the visual spectacle is realized, the filmmakers offer us little else in the way of character depth, creative plot, or captivating dialogue.
Hellboy II is a glorious ode to cinema's “creature features” with homages to Ray Harryhausen’s Jason and the Argonauts, Jim Henson’s Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, George Lucas’ Star Wars, and James Whale’s Bride of Frankenstein (a tie-in which surely made the suits at Universal happy). del Toro’s cast of stunning beasts proves that there is plenty of wallop still to be had in using old fashioned make up, prosthetics, animatronics, and miniature models in lieu of a constant barrage of computer generations(stick around for the credits to see how many artists it took to create the creatures and you can see why many filmmakers have become addicted to CGI). It is with these visually bizarre characters that del Toro has the most fun and that exuberance captures the audience as well.
Perhaps del Toro got so deep into his role as monster maker that his roles as storyteller and, particularly, screenwriter fell by the wayside. The film lacks a uniform feel. The first third of the movie oscillates between knock off versions of Men in Black and Lord of the Rings. Once it finds its footing the ridiculously derivative plot (which includes bringing three pieces of a crown together, an evil twin, a quest for the salvation of humanity etc.) and Dungeons-and Dragons-quality dialogue (viewers should prepare for long passages spoken in Elvish)drag the movie into the relm of the uninteresting. Aside from a few choice one liners, the sharp humor of the original movie does not shine so brightly on this go around. Hellboy’s gruff-guy-with-a-tenderness-for-cats scthick was wearing thin by the end of movie one and its charm is utterly gone by hour two of The Golden Army.
A great deal of energy is spent in this movie setting up a third installment of the Hellboy franchise. What appeared to be the theme of the film (Hellboy grappling with the fact that the human race he has given everything to protect will never embrace him) is not quite tackled head on. Instead there are several allusions that this will be the subject of the next film. In past experience (i.e. the Back to the Future or Pirates of the Caribbean movies), committing so much time in one movie to “set up” another usually becomes detrimental to both. Though, it is certain that Hellboy III will be replete with enough jaw dropping spectacle to arouse interest, no matter how lacking it is in the story department.
Hellboy II is a glorious ode to cinema's “creature features” with homages to Ray Harryhausen’s Jason and the Argonauts, Jim Henson’s Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, George Lucas’ Star Wars, and James Whale’s Bride of Frankenstein (a tie-in which surely made the suits at Universal happy). del Toro’s cast of stunning beasts proves that there is plenty of wallop still to be had in using old fashioned make up, prosthetics, animatronics, and miniature models in lieu of a constant barrage of computer generations(stick around for the credits to see how many artists it took to create the creatures and you can see why many filmmakers have become addicted to CGI). It is with these visually bizarre characters that del Toro has the most fun and that exuberance captures the audience as well.
Perhaps del Toro got so deep into his role as monster maker that his roles as storyteller and, particularly, screenwriter fell by the wayside. The film lacks a uniform feel. The first third of the movie oscillates between knock off versions of Men in Black and Lord of the Rings. Once it finds its footing the ridiculously derivative plot (which includes bringing three pieces of a crown together, an evil twin, a quest for the salvation of humanity etc.) and Dungeons-and Dragons-quality dialogue (viewers should prepare for long passages spoken in Elvish)drag the movie into the relm of the uninteresting. Aside from a few choice one liners, the sharp humor of the original movie does not shine so brightly on this go around. Hellboy’s gruff-guy-with-a-tenderness-for-cats scthick was wearing thin by the end of movie one and its charm is utterly gone by hour two of The Golden Army.
A great deal of energy is spent in this movie setting up a third installment of the Hellboy franchise. What appeared to be the theme of the film (Hellboy grappling with the fact that the human race he has given everything to protect will never embrace him) is not quite tackled head on. Instead there are several allusions that this will be the subject of the next film. In past experience (i.e. the Back to the Future or Pirates of the Caribbean movies), committing so much time in one movie to “set up” another usually becomes detrimental to both. Though, it is certain that Hellboy III will be replete with enough jaw dropping spectacle to arouse interest, no matter how lacking it is in the story department.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Summertime Blues
On the eve of the second holiday weekend of the summer season, it feels right to take stock of where we stand as movie goers. I must say that I am overcome with malaise when I think about the movies as of late. I have absolutely refused to place hard earned, rapidly depreciating dollars down to see Kung Fu Panda, Wall-E, or Wanted (though if you have seen them, the site would benefit from your thoughts so e-mail them to middlebrowfilm@gmail.com). I have gone to the theater twice and each time been unable to muster up a proper review. Here are some scattered thoughts from those two outings:
You Don’t Mess with the Zohan: It is nice to see Adam Sandler play the clueless lothario, a role usually reserved for Will Farrell, instead of his rage-aholic moron character. The film earns points for its novel subject matter (a comedy about the tribulations of the modern Middle East) but loses points for being utterly forgettable twenty-two minutes after the credits (I have a vague recollection of about a dozen hummus gags). It is also possible that the movie raises awareness about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict while filling American minds with a new batch of stereotypes about both groups.
Get Smart: This film gives “family friendly film” a good name by being able to reach multiple generations (I took my grandparents and they approved) without dumbing it down. Much of the cast sparkles with the star quality needed to deliver this sort of material. Sadly, Anne Hathaway did not rise to the level of her costars. She delivers a flat performance and still looks like she is in her mid-teens, which hurt her efforts. The other distractor was the filmmakers’ use of digital video-Bourne Identity stlye camera work during the action sequences. It is unclear who thought that the film, based on a sit-com featuring a shoe phone, needed that cinema verite touch but it came off as sloppy.
That’s all I got folks, which is kind of sad because I really dig the summer season. If you have seen something worthwhile please let us know. Tomorrow I go to see Hancock with the hopes of my blues being lifted. I will let you know how it turns out.
You Don’t Mess with the Zohan: It is nice to see Adam Sandler play the clueless lothario, a role usually reserved for Will Farrell, instead of his rage-aholic moron character. The film earns points for its novel subject matter (a comedy about the tribulations of the modern Middle East) but loses points for being utterly forgettable twenty-two minutes after the credits (I have a vague recollection of about a dozen hummus gags). It is also possible that the movie raises awareness about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict while filling American minds with a new batch of stereotypes about both groups.
Get Smart: This film gives “family friendly film” a good name by being able to reach multiple generations (I took my grandparents and they approved) without dumbing it down. Much of the cast sparkles with the star quality needed to deliver this sort of material. Sadly, Anne Hathaway did not rise to the level of her costars. She delivers a flat performance and still looks like she is in her mid-teens, which hurt her efforts. The other distractor was the filmmakers’ use of digital video-Bourne Identity stlye camera work during the action sequences. It is unclear who thought that the film, based on a sit-com featuring a shoe phone, needed that cinema verite touch but it came off as sloppy.
That’s all I got folks, which is kind of sad because I really dig the summer season. If you have seen something worthwhile please let us know. Tomorrow I go to see Hancock with the hopes of my blues being lifted. I will let you know how it turns out.
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