Like all scientific experiments, Shoot ‘Em Up sets out to answer a question. It wonders, "just how much fat can you trim from the average action movie?" Turns out the answer is quite a lot. This film, in which a man named Smith (Clive Owen) must save a baby from the clutches of the evil Hertz (Paul Giamatti) with the help of a lactating prostitute (Monica Bellucci), is a wonder of economy. The formula of the entire movie, liberally stolen from the Looney Tunes school of film, is set-up, action, one-liner, repeat. Each sequence, be it violent, sexy, or humorous is stripped to the barest of bones. Pages of dialogue are boiled down to a handful of syllables. The interesting thing that the genre loses nothing in this form, in fact Shoot ‘Em Up is one of the more interesting, if not entirely successful, action films of the year.
These are days of few surprises at the cineplex. By the time a movie hits theaters most of its surprises have been marketed, previewed, and hyped to death. By riding the line between earnestness and parody so precisely, Shot ‘Em Up has rendered itself almost unmarketable. THe previews in no way evoke its true character. This allows the viewer to have a rare experience, that of true cinematic dicombobulation. What the heck kind of movie is this? Am I supposed to laugh? What is the purpose of all of this?
I am almost positive that the film is a joke, and a finely crafted one. The action is not played for laughs but it rises above the line of absurdity just enough to be severely funny. The film also serves as a challenge to the makers of the bevy of B grade action flicks released recently (think of anything starring Jason Stratham and/or Jet Li) to have a bit of fun. Why not push the envelope in all directions at once? The fact that this hyperbole of a film stars A-list actors Owen and Giamatti doing their best B-movie acting is a real treat.
While the concept may be finely crafted, the actual film could use some work. Parts of the movie seem poorly shot and edited; some of the intricate action stuff is lost in odd angles and cuts. The overabundance of cheap digital effects reminds us that just because you can do something with a computer doesn’t mean you should. This film could have rivaled Run Lola Run in its skewering, celebrating, and reinventing the action genre. The technical shortcomings, however, only allow it to reach such heights in several brief, brilliant, spurts.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Monday, September 17, 2007
Lena says: The Hills Have Eyes is the worst movie I have ever seen
This is the third installment in what has become a rather long running series. Readers were asked to ponder the question, “What is the worst movie you have ever seen?” Each film is given its due and its baditude is assessed. This submission is from Lena who has never seen a movie more horrendous than the original version of The Hills Have Eyes.
It is clear that Wes Craven was working on a strict budget during the filming of The Hills Have Eyes. He is unable to sync the audio with the visuals and he repeatedly uses stock footage of birds and planes. Now, a small budget does not always equal a bad film; all that is needed is a little bit of intelligence behind the camera (anyone who has seen George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead can attest that a few dollars can make an utterly horrifying movie).
Craven, who is no George Romero, attempts to produce a full on gore fest with pocket change. He is careful to shove all the atmospheric accoutrements of the genre at us in the first three minutes of film; droning synth music, a creepy gas station attendant, dogs acting strangely etc. Because the management of the movie (which Craven also wrote and edited) is done without a hint of virtuosity, these elements come off as even more obvious. The film has such a slipshod veneer that really scary stuff (i.e. a guy getting crucified on a cactus) just look dumb.
TOTAL SIDEBAR: Why is it that the blood in the low budget horror films of the 70s and 80s is always so grossly discolored? How expensive can red food coloring be? It seems that blood is an integral element of the genre. It is hard to maintain the suspension of disbelief when liquid the color of Tang oozes from wounds.
The story, an unsuspecting family breaks down in the middle of the desert only to by terrorized by a group of crazies who have been exposed to radiation, has some potential. Right around the one hour mark there is a string of engaging events that make the film seem like it may be redeemed. This is followed, however, by forty minutes of almost nonsensical action (including an homage to Lassie and a chase that looks like it was taken straight out of Kojak, complete with funky soundtrack) that rambles on until the films abrupt conclusion. The concept that the killers are the by-product of nuclear testing is not explored in an interesting way. A George Romero could have capitalized on the viewers’ fear of nuclear disaster and taken the film out of the gutter. Craven just lets this element lie alongside all of his other lame ideas.
The performances are, for the most part, generically bad. The only standout performance is that of Robert Houston as Bobby Jr., the plucky young lad who fights back when his family is attacked. Houston’s performance is oddly atrocious. As the movie progresses his reactions to events seem to fit less and less to the point where it feels as if he is acting in another movie (upon realizing his mother has been killed he says “Oh” as if he just got a C- on a spelling test). His complete lack of ability quickly becomes the most engrossing element of the movie in the way that a three car pile-up is engrossing.
ANOTHER TOTAL SIDEBAR: Robert Houston went on to become an Oscar winning documentary filmmaker tackling the subjects of AIDS and Civil Rights.
There are people who stand behind this movie; who claim that it is a killer grindhouse horror flick. The reason that many grindhouse films are great is that they manage to produce at least moments of originality regardless of the pressures of budget or shooting schedule. There is nothing in The Hills Have Eyes that hasn’t been done better, and possibly cheaper, by others.
FINAL TOTAL SIDEBAR: It should be noted that many big budget movies have aped Craven's unoriginal ideas to create even less original effects. Beyond the recent remake (and its sequel)there was also the debacle of a film called Wrong Turn (2003) which gave its group of mutants awesome tree climbing abilities. Now that is original.
It is clear that Wes Craven was working on a strict budget during the filming of The Hills Have Eyes. He is unable to sync the audio with the visuals and he repeatedly uses stock footage of birds and planes. Now, a small budget does not always equal a bad film; all that is needed is a little bit of intelligence behind the camera (anyone who has seen George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead can attest that a few dollars can make an utterly horrifying movie).
Craven, who is no George Romero, attempts to produce a full on gore fest with pocket change. He is careful to shove all the atmospheric accoutrements of the genre at us in the first three minutes of film; droning synth music, a creepy gas station attendant, dogs acting strangely etc. Because the management of the movie (which Craven also wrote and edited) is done without a hint of virtuosity, these elements come off as even more obvious. The film has such a slipshod veneer that really scary stuff (i.e. a guy getting crucified on a cactus) just look dumb.
TOTAL SIDEBAR: Why is it that the blood in the low budget horror films of the 70s and 80s is always so grossly discolored? How expensive can red food coloring be? It seems that blood is an integral element of the genre. It is hard to maintain the suspension of disbelief when liquid the color of Tang oozes from wounds.
The story, an unsuspecting family breaks down in the middle of the desert only to by terrorized by a group of crazies who have been exposed to radiation, has some potential. Right around the one hour mark there is a string of engaging events that make the film seem like it may be redeemed. This is followed, however, by forty minutes of almost nonsensical action (including an homage to Lassie and a chase that looks like it was taken straight out of Kojak, complete with funky soundtrack) that rambles on until the films abrupt conclusion. The concept that the killers are the by-product of nuclear testing is not explored in an interesting way. A George Romero could have capitalized on the viewers’ fear of nuclear disaster and taken the film out of the gutter. Craven just lets this element lie alongside all of his other lame ideas.
The performances are, for the most part, generically bad. The only standout performance is that of Robert Houston as Bobby Jr., the plucky young lad who fights back when his family is attacked. Houston’s performance is oddly atrocious. As the movie progresses his reactions to events seem to fit less and less to the point where it feels as if he is acting in another movie (upon realizing his mother has been killed he says “Oh” as if he just got a C- on a spelling test). His complete lack of ability quickly becomes the most engrossing element of the movie in the way that a three car pile-up is engrossing.
ANOTHER TOTAL SIDEBAR: Robert Houston went on to become an Oscar winning documentary filmmaker tackling the subjects of AIDS and Civil Rights.
There are people who stand behind this movie; who claim that it is a killer grindhouse horror flick. The reason that many grindhouse films are great is that they manage to produce at least moments of originality regardless of the pressures of budget or shooting schedule. There is nothing in The Hills Have Eyes that hasn’t been done better, and possibly cheaper, by others.
FINAL TOTAL SIDEBAR: It should be noted that many big budget movies have aped Craven's unoriginal ideas to create even less original effects. Beyond the recent remake (and its sequel)there was also the debacle of a film called Wrong Turn (2003) which gave its group of mutants awesome tree climbing abilities. Now that is original.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Superbad is SuperGOOD (Ha Ha, get it?)
Labor Day means its back to school and back to not wearing white pants. It also marks the end of the Summer Movie Season. We are now supposed to change gears and start taking in more earnest and arty fair in preparation for awards season (the lead up to which runs about as long as presidential primary season). Knowing that I will be spending the next few months seeing movies with at least an attempt at substance (which can be a blessing and a curse), I saw Superbad this Labor Day weekend.
The true treat of the movie are the performances by Jonah Hill and Michael Cera as high school seniors desperate to fit in. Cera’s subtle, nuanced awkwardness is the perfect match for Hill’s blustering, intense awkwardness. Both tap into an element of young adulthood that is painfully funny and painfully real in the same instant. The chemistry between these two young actors is so delightful that scenes without them feel stunted.
An element of Superbad that is absent from many teenage sex comedies is interesting objects of affection. The boys lust after Jules and Becca (played by Emma Stone and Martha MacIsaac) who are more than just eye candy. The girls get to be cool and funny. By choosing to explore these female characters more fully a rare feat in this genre is achieved. As the characters reveal themselves, the distance between the boys and their crushes diminishes and it starts to make sense why these kids will get together.
The humor will not suit the tastes of all viewers. If jokes anatomical and scatological and intercourse-ical aren’t sitting atop your comedy hierarchy, this film doesn’t offer much else. This type of humor is so pervasive that by the end you almost think you heard the same dirty joke earlier in the movie. I count myself (entirely proudly) amongst people who can have a good hard laugh about bodily functions and the reproductive process. Though presented in abundance, the majority of the crude humor is fresh and entertaining.
Superbad turned out to be a nice bookend to my Summer at the movies. Early in the season I saw and reviewed Knocked Up. Produced by Knocked Up’s director (Judd Apatow) and written by its star (Seth Rogan), Superbad begs to be compared to the earlier release. Superbad is a better film not because it is the product of a better director (Apatow is more skilled than Greg Mottola) nor is it more finely edited (both films suffer from a major reluctance to leave any joke on the cutting room floor). In fact, it cannot be said that Superbad is funnier than Knocked Up (both films produce face cramping laughter if you have a certain sense of humor). Superbad is superior because it achieves what it sets out to do: to be a great R rated comedy with no vital social value.
The true treat of the movie are the performances by Jonah Hill and Michael Cera as high school seniors desperate to fit in. Cera’s subtle, nuanced awkwardness is the perfect match for Hill’s blustering, intense awkwardness. Both tap into an element of young adulthood that is painfully funny and painfully real in the same instant. The chemistry between these two young actors is so delightful that scenes without them feel stunted.
An element of Superbad that is absent from many teenage sex comedies is interesting objects of affection. The boys lust after Jules and Becca (played by Emma Stone and Martha MacIsaac) who are more than just eye candy. The girls get to be cool and funny. By choosing to explore these female characters more fully a rare feat in this genre is achieved. As the characters reveal themselves, the distance between the boys and their crushes diminishes and it starts to make sense why these kids will get together.
The humor will not suit the tastes of all viewers. If jokes anatomical and scatological and intercourse-ical aren’t sitting atop your comedy hierarchy, this film doesn’t offer much else. This type of humor is so pervasive that by the end you almost think you heard the same dirty joke earlier in the movie. I count myself (entirely proudly) amongst people who can have a good hard laugh about bodily functions and the reproductive process. Though presented in abundance, the majority of the crude humor is fresh and entertaining.
Superbad turned out to be a nice bookend to my Summer at the movies. Early in the season I saw and reviewed Knocked Up. Produced by Knocked Up’s director (Judd Apatow) and written by its star (Seth Rogan), Superbad begs to be compared to the earlier release. Superbad is a better film not because it is the product of a better director (Apatow is more skilled than Greg Mottola) nor is it more finely edited (both films suffer from a major reluctance to leave any joke on the cutting room floor). In fact, it cannot be said that Superbad is funnier than Knocked Up (both films produce face cramping laughter if you have a certain sense of humor). Superbad is superior because it achieves what it sets out to do: to be a great R rated comedy with no vital social value.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
The Ten
The twilight of the summer movie season has brought us The Ten, which is the brain child of a group of comedians who used to be on a sketch show called The State (The superiority of The State has already been documented on this site. If you need to be reminded of its comedic dominance please click here). Directed by David Wain and written by Ken Marino, the movie’s ten short films, each a meditation on one of the Ten Commandments, manage to include the talents of seemingly all of their former cast mates as well as a bevy of A/B list actors. While not exactly a finely crafted feature, The Ten brings an unconventional comic sensibility to the big screen and for this it deserves praise.
The “movie which is actually a series of related short films” thing has been done before. The Ten owes a great debt to Woody Allen’s addition to the genre, Everything That You Wanted to Know About Sex * But Were Afraid to Ask, a fact which is openly acknowledged in the ninth story. This format always creates products that are uneven by nature, with some segments more successful than others. Such is the case with The Ten; some moments surpass the hilarity of Wet Hot American Summer (The Staties brilliant take on 80’s summer camp movies) while others seem stale from the opening shot (there is no new comedic gold to be found in the topic of prison sex).
Joining the cast is a long list of actors who are quite famous. Many of the performances culled from these celebrities are effective (Liev Schreiber and the unaging Winona Ryder offer up particularly wonderful work), however, at several points it felt like these actors were making cameos instead of actually acting. The message seemed to be “Look at all of the famous people who think we are funny and want to be in our little movie.”
The salvation of this movie is the idiosyncratic sensibility that is brought to each of the film’s jokes. No gag is complete without the addition of a strong shot of absurdity. As it progresses from story to story you feel like you are bouncing around in a comedian’s imagination. The bonus is this imagination almost always provides a fresh alternative to the majority of the comic product on the market. The devoutly silly spirit of The Ten is what allows it to rise above its own shortcomings and be an enjoyable picture.
The “movie which is actually a series of related short films” thing has been done before. The Ten owes a great debt to Woody Allen’s addition to the genre, Everything That You Wanted to Know About Sex * But Were Afraid to Ask, a fact which is openly acknowledged in the ninth story. This format always creates products that are uneven by nature, with some segments more successful than others. Such is the case with The Ten; some moments surpass the hilarity of Wet Hot American Summer (The Staties brilliant take on 80’s summer camp movies) while others seem stale from the opening shot (there is no new comedic gold to be found in the topic of prison sex).
Joining the cast is a long list of actors who are quite famous. Many of the performances culled from these celebrities are effective (Liev Schreiber and the unaging Winona Ryder offer up particularly wonderful work), however, at several points it felt like these actors were making cameos instead of actually acting. The message seemed to be “Look at all of the famous people who think we are funny and want to be in our little movie.”
The salvation of this movie is the idiosyncratic sensibility that is brought to each of the film’s jokes. No gag is complete without the addition of a strong shot of absurdity. As it progresses from story to story you feel like you are bouncing around in a comedian’s imagination. The bonus is this imagination almost always provides a fresh alternative to the majority of the comic product on the market. The devoutly silly spirit of The Ten is what allows it to rise above its own shortcomings and be an enjoyable picture.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Brady says "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 is the worst movie I have ever seen"
In the second installment of our search for the worst movie, we have a bold submission, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. Brady is convinced that this horror movie is more horrific than horrifying. Let's see if she was right...
There are a few facts in this world that no one will argue. For example: Batman is much cooler than Superman. The designated hitter rule is bogus. Guns don’t kill people, Chuck Norris kills people. Etc.
One such fact is that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is scary. In its original 1974 incarnation, Tobe Hooper’s grimy, gorefest is undeniably frightening with scenes so shocking that no viewer goes to the hardware store in the same frame of mind again. The moral implications of this film are absolutely debatable (its glorification of violence against women is reprehensible as is its status as the catalyst for the current “horror porn” genre which has brought us the Saw and Hostel movies) but its ability to remove the bejesus from all of us is beyond reproach.
It is this fact that makes The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 particularly dreadful. This film is so sloppy it begs the question: why did Tobe Hooper wait fourteen years to follow up his master work with this dreck? This film would be a great deal better had it simply been a retread of the original (a decision that Rob Zombie made when he made House of 1,000 Corpses). Instead all that makes the original great has been replaced with something stupid. The snuff film aesthetic of the first film (which was both an artistic choice and a by-product of a microscopic budget) is no where to be found. Instead the film looks like it was shot by the same cinematographer that brought us Animal House. The creepy old house has been replaced by a Texas Battlefield amusement park bathed in cheesy purple lights (which is, for the record, not chilling at all). Then there are the performances. The shrewd decision to use no name actors made The Texas Chainsaw Massacre feel more realistic. Here we have Dennis Hopper making a mockery of any of his work prior, or hence, as a law man intent on getting revenge.
We must not lose sight of the important fact that this movie isn’t scary. Most of the film takes place in broad daylight with people talking about people being massacred via chainsaws. 36 minutes in there was one solid scare but the rest of the film proceeded so clumsily that it is almost impossible for the viewer to suspend belief long enough to be scared.
Some claim that this movie is supposed to be a comedy (the Internet Movie Database lists the genre as “Comedy Horror”). If this is true this movie is even worse than previously stated. Evil Dead 2 is a brilliant example of Comedy Horror. Just making a crappy horror movie does not make it funny. It makes it crappy.
HOWEVER there is one aspect of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 that, if not good, is actually interesting. That would be the inspired performance of Bill Moseley as Leatherface’s brother Chop Top. Moeseley provides lunacy and energy that belongs in a better film. It is also quite possible that his mannerisims and vocalizations were stolen for use by Michael Keaton in Beetlejuice. When Chop Top, scratching at the metal brain covering he received after a stint in Vietnam, screams “lick my plate you dog d__ ck!” there is a moment of actual enjoyment in this waste of great source material.
There are a few facts in this world that no one will argue. For example: Batman is much cooler than Superman. The designated hitter rule is bogus. Guns don’t kill people, Chuck Norris kills people. Etc.
One such fact is that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is scary. In its original 1974 incarnation, Tobe Hooper’s grimy, gorefest is undeniably frightening with scenes so shocking that no viewer goes to the hardware store in the same frame of mind again. The moral implications of this film are absolutely debatable (its glorification of violence against women is reprehensible as is its status as the catalyst for the current “horror porn” genre which has brought us the Saw and Hostel movies) but its ability to remove the bejesus from all of us is beyond reproach.
It is this fact that makes The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 particularly dreadful. This film is so sloppy it begs the question: why did Tobe Hooper wait fourteen years to follow up his master work with this dreck? This film would be a great deal better had it simply been a retread of the original (a decision that Rob Zombie made when he made House of 1,000 Corpses). Instead all that makes the original great has been replaced with something stupid. The snuff film aesthetic of the first film (which was both an artistic choice and a by-product of a microscopic budget) is no where to be found. Instead the film looks like it was shot by the same cinematographer that brought us Animal House. The creepy old house has been replaced by a Texas Battlefield amusement park bathed in cheesy purple lights (which is, for the record, not chilling at all). Then there are the performances. The shrewd decision to use no name actors made The Texas Chainsaw Massacre feel more realistic. Here we have Dennis Hopper making a mockery of any of his work prior, or hence, as a law man intent on getting revenge.
We must not lose sight of the important fact that this movie isn’t scary. Most of the film takes place in broad daylight with people talking about people being massacred via chainsaws. 36 minutes in there was one solid scare but the rest of the film proceeded so clumsily that it is almost impossible for the viewer to suspend belief long enough to be scared.
Some claim that this movie is supposed to be a comedy (the Internet Movie Database lists the genre as “Comedy Horror”). If this is true this movie is even worse than previously stated. Evil Dead 2 is a brilliant example of Comedy Horror. Just making a crappy horror movie does not make it funny. It makes it crappy.
HOWEVER there is one aspect of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 that, if not good, is actually interesting. That would be the inspired performance of Bill Moseley as Leatherface’s brother Chop Top. Moeseley provides lunacy and energy that belongs in a better film. It is also quite possible that his mannerisims and vocalizations were stolen for use by Michael Keaton in Beetlejuice. When Chop Top, scratching at the metal brain covering he received after a stint in Vietnam, screams “lick my plate you dog d__ ck!” there is a moment of actual enjoyment in this waste of great source material.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
DVD Picks
Both Zodiac and Hot Fuzz are now available for home viewing. If you missed these movies in the theater, they are certainly worth your time. If you need a refresher review of either, the MFS is happy to oblige:
Hot Fuzz
Zodiac
Also check out Chris Nashawaty's recent review of Hot Fuzz published in Entertainment Weekly. It seems eerily similar to the one posted here months ago. Coincidence?
Hot Fuzz
Zodiac
Also check out Chris Nashawaty's recent review of Hot Fuzz published in Entertainment Weekly. It seems eerily similar to the one posted here months ago. Coincidence?
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Margaret Says: "Miami Vice is the worst movie I have ever seen."
Last month readers were asked to submit the titles of the worst movies they had ever seen in THE MIDDLEBROW FILM SOCIETY’S FIRST ANNUAL “THE WORST MOVIE I EVER SAW CONTEST AND FILM FESTIVAL". As society chairperson, it is my duty to view and review these films and determine a winner(or is it loser?).
Here is the first in the series:
The transposing of aged television shows onto the big screen has kept Hollywood busy since Dan Akroyd and Tom Hanks starred in 1987’s Dragnet. Capitalizing on familiarity and nostalgia, these movies fail more often than they succeed (while The Fugitive provided quality entertainment, The Beverly Hillbillies, I Spy, and Lost in Space did not).
So when Michael Mann, who executive produced over 100 episodes of Miami Vice, announced he would write and direct its film adaptation, people took notice. Surely this project was in capable hands. Right?
Well, perhaps Michael Mann hates, or is embarrassed by, his creation. He has made a big screen version that murders all that was enjoyable about the source material. Gone are the girls in bikinis, the sock-less loafers, and the flamingos. There aren’t even any good scenes on South Beach. Mann shoots so much of this movie at night and on overcast days that he might as well have been making Newark Vice. Perhaps the thing that is most infuriating is that, for some reason, the Miami Vice demands to be taken seriously. The film portrays police work for what it really is: a tedious, difficult task with very few rewards. How can this be the aim of a movie that shares its title with a show featuring a pet alligator (or was it a crocodile?)
If the viewer detaches this film from the original show, it is still terrible. Mann forgot to establish a connection between the two most vital elements of a buddy cop piece, the cops who are buddies. Crockett and Tubbs (Colin Farrell and Jaime Foxx) have zero chemistry and largely move about the film independent of each other. Tubbs gets the shorter end of the stick spending most of the movie relegated to answering phone calls on a ridiculous looking walkie-talkie and fiddling with his laptop. His caucasian partner gets much more of the focus and activity. Too bad Colin Farrell looks so ridiculous with his flowing highlights and mustache (he could easily be the star of the Barry Gibb Story) that it is downright distracting. Just when the viewer stops giggling at his look, he shows up to a drug deal in a sporty half ponytail which gets the chuckle machine up and running again.
Mann has a penchant (which is verging on an addiction) for mixing the use of film and digital video in his movies. This works in The Insider (making the viewer feel like she is watching the corruption of the tobacco industry through a hidden camera) and Collateral (where the digital video shots of Los Angeles evoked the memory of the Rodney King tape). In Miami Vice the digital video makes the action look like boring outtakes from Cops. The love scenes look like they were shot by a hotel heiress and have about as much sensuality or appeal as accidentally seeing meerkats canoodle at the zoo.
The style employed by the entire cast (which also includes Gong Li and Ciaran Hinds) seems to come from the furrow-your-brow-and-mutter school of acting. Because this movie is chock full of hokey Hollywood banter, the results are ridiculous. Oscar winner Jaime Fox gets to deliver lines like, “Ships move, that’s why you call them ships” with absolute sincerity. When Crockett and Tubbs do banter it is in a stilted, stoic manner. Upon his return from a rendezvous with a drug lord’s mistress Crockett admits that they went to Havana. This gem of dialogue ensues:
Tubbs (brow furrowed in a low tone): Havana Cuba?
Crockett (brow equally furrowed in a low, gruff tone): No, Havana Louisiana.
Michael Mann’s work has always carried an air of machismo that borders on misogyny. With Miami Vice he has gone a step further. It is not just anti-woman, it is anti-human. The film takes an equally emotionless approach towards violence, sex, suicide, murder, comas, even dancing which shows a lack of respect for humankind. It is this distressing element that keeps the movie from being “funny-bad”. It is just bad.
Here is the first in the series:
The transposing of aged television shows onto the big screen has kept Hollywood busy since Dan Akroyd and Tom Hanks starred in 1987’s Dragnet. Capitalizing on familiarity and nostalgia, these movies fail more often than they succeed (while The Fugitive provided quality entertainment, The Beverly Hillbillies, I Spy, and Lost in Space did not).
So when Michael Mann, who executive produced over 100 episodes of Miami Vice, announced he would write and direct its film adaptation, people took notice. Surely this project was in capable hands. Right?
Well, perhaps Michael Mann hates, or is embarrassed by, his creation. He has made a big screen version that murders all that was enjoyable about the source material. Gone are the girls in bikinis, the sock-less loafers, and the flamingos. There aren’t even any good scenes on South Beach. Mann shoots so much of this movie at night and on overcast days that he might as well have been making Newark Vice. Perhaps the thing that is most infuriating is that, for some reason, the Miami Vice demands to be taken seriously. The film portrays police work for what it really is: a tedious, difficult task with very few rewards. How can this be the aim of a movie that shares its title with a show featuring a pet alligator (or was it a crocodile?)
If the viewer detaches this film from the original show, it is still terrible. Mann forgot to establish a connection between the two most vital elements of a buddy cop piece, the cops who are buddies. Crockett and Tubbs (Colin Farrell and Jaime Foxx) have zero chemistry and largely move about the film independent of each other. Tubbs gets the shorter end of the stick spending most of the movie relegated to answering phone calls on a ridiculous looking walkie-talkie and fiddling with his laptop. His caucasian partner gets much more of the focus and activity. Too bad Colin Farrell looks so ridiculous with his flowing highlights and mustache (he could easily be the star of the Barry Gibb Story) that it is downright distracting. Just when the viewer stops giggling at his look, he shows up to a drug deal in a sporty half ponytail which gets the chuckle machine up and running again.
Mann has a penchant (which is verging on an addiction) for mixing the use of film and digital video in his movies. This works in The Insider (making the viewer feel like she is watching the corruption of the tobacco industry through a hidden camera) and Collateral (where the digital video shots of Los Angeles evoked the memory of the Rodney King tape). In Miami Vice the digital video makes the action look like boring outtakes from Cops. The love scenes look like they were shot by a hotel heiress and have about as much sensuality or appeal as accidentally seeing meerkats canoodle at the zoo.
The style employed by the entire cast (which also includes Gong Li and Ciaran Hinds) seems to come from the furrow-your-brow-and-mutter school of acting. Because this movie is chock full of hokey Hollywood banter, the results are ridiculous. Oscar winner Jaime Fox gets to deliver lines like, “Ships move, that’s why you call them ships” with absolute sincerity. When Crockett and Tubbs do banter it is in a stilted, stoic manner. Upon his return from a rendezvous with a drug lord’s mistress Crockett admits that they went to Havana. This gem of dialogue ensues:
Tubbs (brow furrowed in a low tone): Havana Cuba?
Crockett (brow equally furrowed in a low, gruff tone): No, Havana Louisiana.
Michael Mann’s work has always carried an air of machismo that borders on misogyny. With Miami Vice he has gone a step further. It is not just anti-woman, it is anti-human. The film takes an equally emotionless approach towards violence, sex, suicide, murder, comas, even dancing which shows a lack of respect for humankind. It is this distressing element that keeps the movie from being “funny-bad”. It is just bad.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Hot Rod
Akiva Schaffer, Jorma Taccone and Andy Samberg refer to themselves as The Dudes. They have a website (thelonelyisland.com) full of short films that range in quality from gut-busting to earth-shatteringly funny (if you don’t mind genital humor, you must view their “Bing Bong Bros.” music video immediately). The content of the website got The Dudes a gig on Saturday Night Live; Jorma and Akiva work behind the scenes while Andy (for no other logical reason than his name is the easiest to pronounce) was chosen as a cast member. The Dudes have brought their online aesthetic to the show with their “SNL Digital Short” series which has brought the show its most memorable moments in years (i.e. getting Justin Timberlake to sing about wrapping his manhood up as a holiday gift). In a bit of odd symmetry, the television work The Dudes have produced has found its way back onto their old format, the internet, and is endlessly downloaded, e-mailed, and blogged upon.
Hot Rod, their feature film debut (Samberg and Taccone star, Shaffer directs), is the story of Rod Kimble and his gang of friends who, instead of growing up and selling out like everyone else, have kept their dream of being a stunt team alive well into their twenties. With this movie, The Dudes have done what many of us wish we could; they have rewritten their 1980s suburban childhood to include awesome montages and a killer heavy metal soundtrack. In the Hot Rod universe a love of Kawasaki bikes and martial arts learned Mr. Miyagi style will get you the girl and the respect you always knew you deserved. Unlike some movies that attempt at nostalgia by simply presenting the iconography of the past, Hot Rod captures the feeling of a time when kids did tricks on their bikes for glory; not to end up on YouTube or qualify for the X Games.
The comedic skills The Dudes honed with their short films are on fine display here. Their sense of exact timing, which is vital in a thirty second sketch, fills this movie with dozens of near perfect moments. Each of the most successful scenes can almost be viewed as a short film in itself. In an era where improvisation tends to run comedies way off track (think about the hilarious but borderline unintelligable Anchorman) it is nice to see pace and cadence take precedence. Only at one point (when Rod’s mechanic buddy Dave describes an acid induced massive head wound) does it feel like the movie veers too far out of its way for a (decent sized) laugh. For the most part the story composition and editing keep the film moving at an enjoyable speed.
It must be noted that the humor does cater towards people who grew up during the Reagan presidency with a love for movies like Rad. For those of you outside this group, there is still enough to be enjoyed in Hot Rod, though it may not cause your heart to swell with emotion like it did for some of us.
Hot Rod, their feature film debut (Samberg and Taccone star, Shaffer directs), is the story of Rod Kimble and his gang of friends who, instead of growing up and selling out like everyone else, have kept their dream of being a stunt team alive well into their twenties. With this movie, The Dudes have done what many of us wish we could; they have rewritten their 1980s suburban childhood to include awesome montages and a killer heavy metal soundtrack. In the Hot Rod universe a love of Kawasaki bikes and martial arts learned Mr. Miyagi style will get you the girl and the respect you always knew you deserved. Unlike some movies that attempt at nostalgia by simply presenting the iconography of the past, Hot Rod captures the feeling of a time when kids did tricks on their bikes for glory; not to end up on YouTube or qualify for the X Games.
The comedic skills The Dudes honed with their short films are on fine display here. Their sense of exact timing, which is vital in a thirty second sketch, fills this movie with dozens of near perfect moments. Each of the most successful scenes can almost be viewed as a short film in itself. In an era where improvisation tends to run comedies way off track (think about the hilarious but borderline unintelligable Anchorman) it is nice to see pace and cadence take precedence. Only at one point (when Rod’s mechanic buddy Dave describes an acid induced massive head wound) does it feel like the movie veers too far out of its way for a (decent sized) laugh. For the most part the story composition and editing keep the film moving at an enjoyable speed.
It must be noted that the humor does cater towards people who grew up during the Reagan presidency with a love for movies like Rad. For those of you outside this group, there is still enough to be enjoyed in Hot Rod, though it may not cause your heart to swell with emotion like it did for some of us.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
TMFSFATWMIESCAFF Entries
Well, the submissions are in. Thank you to those of you who took the time to relive the worst moments from your cinematic past and submit a film. If you haven’t perused the submission comments, it is worth it. The vitriolic sentiments expressed about these movies is palpable.
Here are the official entries in THE MFS’ FIRST ANNUAL “THE WORST MOVIE I EVER SAW CONTEST AND FILM FESTIVAL:
National Lampoon’s Pledge This
Bram Stoker’s Dracula
Miami Vice
Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2
The Hills Have Eyes (1977)
Oblomov
Mother Goose a Go Go (AKA The Unkissed Bride)
Vertical Limit
Leonard Pt 6.
Dreamgirls
Look Who’s Talking Too
Going Berserk
Autumn in New York
While I don’t look forward to watching these movies, I am excited to find the absolute stinker in this pile of garbage.
On a technical note: Those of you who submitted more than one entry will find that only one made the cut. This was done in a completely subjective manner. If you feel that the wrong decision has been made please contact the MFS home offices (middlebrowfilm@gmail.com).
The viewings will commence ASAP. You are more than welcome to play along at home, or (if you are going to be in the greater Los Angeles area) come by the MFS screening room for a little punishment.
Here are the official entries in THE MFS’ FIRST ANNUAL “THE WORST MOVIE I EVER SAW CONTEST AND FILM FESTIVAL:
National Lampoon’s Pledge This
Bram Stoker’s Dracula
Miami Vice
Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2
The Hills Have Eyes (1977)
Oblomov
Mother Goose a Go Go (AKA The Unkissed Bride)
Vertical Limit
Leonard Pt 6.
Dreamgirls
Look Who’s Talking Too
Going Berserk
Autumn in New York
While I don’t look forward to watching these movies, I am excited to find the absolute stinker in this pile of garbage.
On a technical note: Those of you who submitted more than one entry will find that only one made the cut. This was done in a completely subjective manner. If you feel that the wrong decision has been made please contact the MFS home offices (middlebrowfilm@gmail.com).
The viewings will commence ASAP. You are more than welcome to play along at home, or (if you are going to be in the greater Los Angeles area) come by the MFS screening room for a little punishment.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Why are Hitmen Funny?: You Kill Me is not good
This review is from Aaron. I respect the passion for which he loathed this movie and this sub genre as a whole. Enjoy.
--Nat
Grosse Point Blank, Analyze This/That, The Matador. Not had enough hitman "dark" comedies? Here's another one for you.
You Kill Me takes place in upstate New York where snow plowing is a very competitive business. One family-run snow plowing biz has a hitman (Frank) on staff to keep competitors off their turf. This particular hitman's work starts to suffer when his drinking problem gets in the way of his hits. I can just hear the pitch meeting to some studio executive: "okay hitmen are funny right? Well let's have a hitman who is an alcoholic and it starts interfering with his work! hahahaha"
Contracted killings and alcoholism are two very funny things. For some reason the boss sends him out to San Francisco to sober up (I guess this is where hitmen go to get sober.) A family associate sets him up with a place to stay and a job at, of all places, a funeral home! Hahahahahaha. See the irony? hahahahahha. AHAHHAHAHAHAHHA. This is where Frank the hitman meets Tea Leoni and goes to AA meetings. He strikes up a relationship with her and reveals that he is an alcoholic. Ok, she can handle that, she has problems of her own. Also he reveals that he is a hitman. Awesome! That's okay too. Really getting the most out of that suspension of disbelief thing. Tea Leoni says "You're an alcoholic and hitman and I'm still with you doesn't that say anything to you?" Yes, your f**king nuts.
After some ups and downs Frank goes back to NY, staying sober but also staying away from Leoni. She follows him out there and helps him kill people and they live happily ever after. This movie totally kills me in the wrong way. The one redeeming aspect was Ben Kingsley's excellent acting chops as Frank the hitman. This goes to show that even good actors have to pay the bills by doing crappy roles. Dont get too pissed, because doing one bad studio movie probably means more cool indie projects they are then able to do.
Look for Cusak, Kingsley and Brosnan try to kill each other in a delightful "dark" comedy called You Kill Grosse Matadors coming out next fall!
--Nat
Grosse Point Blank, Analyze This/That, The Matador. Not had enough hitman "dark" comedies? Here's another one for you.
You Kill Me takes place in upstate New York where snow plowing is a very competitive business. One family-run snow plowing biz has a hitman (Frank) on staff to keep competitors off their turf. This particular hitman's work starts to suffer when his drinking problem gets in the way of his hits. I can just hear the pitch meeting to some studio executive: "okay hitmen are funny right? Well let's have a hitman who is an alcoholic and it starts interfering with his work! hahahaha"
Contracted killings and alcoholism are two very funny things. For some reason the boss sends him out to San Francisco to sober up (I guess this is where hitmen go to get sober.) A family associate sets him up with a place to stay and a job at, of all places, a funeral home! Hahahahahaha. See the irony? hahahahahha. AHAHHAHAHAHAHHA. This is where Frank the hitman meets Tea Leoni and goes to AA meetings. He strikes up a relationship with her and reveals that he is an alcoholic. Ok, she can handle that, she has problems of her own. Also he reveals that he is a hitman. Awesome! That's okay too. Really getting the most out of that suspension of disbelief thing. Tea Leoni says "You're an alcoholic and hitman and I'm still with you doesn't that say anything to you?" Yes, your f**king nuts.
After some ups and downs Frank goes back to NY, staying sober but also staying away from Leoni. She follows him out there and helps him kill people and they live happily ever after. This movie totally kills me in the wrong way. The one redeeming aspect was Ben Kingsley's excellent acting chops as Frank the hitman. This goes to show that even good actors have to pay the bills by doing crappy roles. Dont get too pissed, because doing one bad studio movie probably means more cool indie projects they are then able to do.
Look for Cusak, Kingsley and Brosnan try to kill each other in a delightful "dark" comedy called You Kill Grosse Matadors coming out next fall!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
TMFSFATWMIESCAFF
It has happened to all of us. Perhaps you are sitting in a theater or maybe on your buddy’s couch. You are watching a movie and, at some point before the credits roll, you have a profound realization: “This is the worst movie I have ever seen”. Now the movie may not hold that title forever, as the more movies you see the deeper the bottom of the barrel becomes, but at that moment you know, things have never been this bad.
THE WORST is a term that is thrown around loosely in these pessimistic times, but there are those movies for which it is apropos. I am asking all readers to choose a film that is, for some reason, the worst. I mean really bad. Not even funny-bad, just bad-bad. So bad that repeated viewing may cause bodily harm. When you have chosen your film you are ready to enter…
THE MFS’ FIRST ANNUAL “THE WORST MOVIE I EVER SAW CONTEST AND FILM FESTIVAL”
Contest rules and regulations:
1. Post the title of the film and the year it was released as a comment to this post.
2. The film must: be available on DVD or VHS
relatively easy to get a hold of (Netflixable titles would expedite the screening process).
really REALLY bad.
3. Submissions need to be posted by August 1st to be eligible for consideration.
All submissions will be viewed by the MFS staff and reviewed on the site. The reader who submits the movie that is determined to be the worst will receive a special secret prize and the glory of knowing that you have spent part of your life watching something that has been scientifically proven to be wretched.
If you are a glutton for punishment feel free to play along at home and screen these movies for yourself.
So dig deep into those repressed memories and find something amazingly awful.
THE WORST is a term that is thrown around loosely in these pessimistic times, but there are those movies for which it is apropos. I am asking all readers to choose a film that is, for some reason, the worst. I mean really bad. Not even funny-bad, just bad-bad. So bad that repeated viewing may cause bodily harm. When you have chosen your film you are ready to enter…
THE MFS’ FIRST ANNUAL “THE WORST MOVIE I EVER SAW CONTEST AND FILM FESTIVAL”
Contest rules and regulations:
1. Post the title of the film and the year it was released as a comment to this post.
2. The film must: be available on DVD or VHS
relatively easy to get a hold of (Netflixable titles would expedite the screening process).
really REALLY bad.
3. Submissions need to be posted by August 1st to be eligible for consideration.
All submissions will be viewed by the MFS staff and reviewed on the site. The reader who submits the movie that is determined to be the worst will receive a special secret prize and the glory of knowing that you have spent part of your life watching something that has been scientifically proven to be wretched.
If you are a glutton for punishment feel free to play along at home and screen these movies for yourself.
So dig deep into those repressed memories and find something amazingly awful.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Kickin' It Old Skool is a real movie. Trust me I saw it.
Kickin’ it Old School (I ‘m sorry, “Skool”) was a flop. In fact, the only real proof that it played in theaters at all is a billboard declaring that it opened April 27th that, inexplicably, still looms over my commute. It can currently be seen at America's 2nd run “Dollar Theaters” and will be available for home viewing on August 28th.
The film scores no points for originality. Both its “culture shock after coming out of a __ year coma” and “saving _________ by winning a ___________ contest” plotlines have been done and done and done before. Originality is not the goal with this feature. The purpose is to provide a platform for the comedy of Jaime Kennedy, a performer whose work is hit and miss. While he was spot-on with his dual cameos in Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, a look down his filmography reminds us of his work in Son of the Mask and Doctor Doolittle 2.
Kennedy is able to pull this one off. Unlike so many comic actors he does not rely on an oversized ego to be funny. Between Jack Black, Will Farrell and Vince Vaugn there are enough people doing the self confident boob shtick. Kennedy, instead, fully commits to playing a teen from the 80’s who suddenly finds himself as a thirty-something in the 21st Century. There is no sense of “I am hilarious, allow me to shower you with my humor” from any of the actors in the film. Instead the viewer gets that rare feeling that the performers are trying to win us over; that they have something to prove.
80’s nostalgia has also become a well trod path as we get further from that special decade. Most of the references in Kickin’ it Old Skool dive a bit deeper than those of other films or the I Love the 80’s program on Vh1. The attention paid to toys of the era in particular will delight people of a certain age. Having seen this with someone born a tad too late I can say it will confound those of other ages. I was unable to explain the glory of Garbage Pail Kids without disrupting other moviegoers.
There is plenty about the movie that is indefensible. Some of the editing and camera work should have been done with some extra care. Gags revolving around issues of race and religious affiliation are not clever enough to be much more than offensive. However, while some of the jokes are too easy and others are plain tired, there are enough surprising laughs to make the film an overall, albeit lowbrow, success.
The film scores no points for originality. Both its “culture shock after coming out of a __ year coma” and “saving _________ by winning a ___________ contest” plotlines have been done and done and done before. Originality is not the goal with this feature. The purpose is to provide a platform for the comedy of Jaime Kennedy, a performer whose work is hit and miss. While he was spot-on with his dual cameos in Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, a look down his filmography reminds us of his work in Son of the Mask and Doctor Doolittle 2.
Kennedy is able to pull this one off. Unlike so many comic actors he does not rely on an oversized ego to be funny. Between Jack Black, Will Farrell and Vince Vaugn there are enough people doing the self confident boob shtick. Kennedy, instead, fully commits to playing a teen from the 80’s who suddenly finds himself as a thirty-something in the 21st Century. There is no sense of “I am hilarious, allow me to shower you with my humor” from any of the actors in the film. Instead the viewer gets that rare feeling that the performers are trying to win us over; that they have something to prove.
80’s nostalgia has also become a well trod path as we get further from that special decade. Most of the references in Kickin’ it Old Skool dive a bit deeper than those of other films or the I Love the 80’s program on Vh1. The attention paid to toys of the era in particular will delight people of a certain age. Having seen this with someone born a tad too late I can say it will confound those of other ages. I was unable to explain the glory of Garbage Pail Kids without disrupting other moviegoers.
There is plenty about the movie that is indefensible. Some of the editing and camera work should have been done with some extra care. Gags revolving around issues of race and religious affiliation are not clever enough to be much more than offensive. However, while some of the jokes are too easy and others are plain tired, there are enough surprising laughs to make the film an overall, albeit lowbrow, success.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Transformers: Too much met my eyes
Transformers is a lot like a trip to Wal Mart. There is way too much for your senses to take in; some of it is incredibly appealing, some of it is horribly tacky and the whole experience leaves you feeling a little tainted.
The visual effects are the draw with this film. The computer generated Autobots and Decepticons are seamless and utterly believable. At several times the screen is just a mess of techno garble but for the most part the people at Industrial Light and Magic have realistically depicted a world where 30 foot robots come crashing to earth and change freely into cars, trucks and sport utility vehicles then back again into robots. Think about that for a second. That is not an easy feat.
The trouble with this movie is there is a whole lot more than Transformers in Transformers. The movie tries to be everything to everyone. It is clear that director Michael Bay has set out to entertain both children and the parents who bring them to (and pay for) the movie. However, there is also an attempt to appease the hordes of fanboys (and perhaps three fangirls) who have remained dedicated to the Transformers universe ever since they were in Snork pajamas. It seems that nothing has been left on the cutting room floor. There is a romance in there, as well as a family comedy, a military sub plot, cute robo-shenanigans and a techno caper to boot. It is a film that manages to pay homage to (or rip off, depending how cynical the viewer) Herbie the Love Bug, Short Circuit, Men in Black, Short Circuit II, Men in Black II, E.T., Starship Troopers, Independence Day, and Hackers, in no particular order.
The result, for me, is a wildly uneven movie that rambles on satisfying all of its viewers some of the time but less of us all of the time. However, I am but one man. In a Middlebrow Film Society first, below you will find an instant retort to my review. Written by Lena, my 13 year old cousin, I think you will find it well composed, thoughtful and far less jaded than my ramblings. Her first line should be on Transformers posters across America:
The movie Transformers is (in my opinion) a great movie for anyone who likes action, humor, and robots. One thing i found funny in the movie was the personalities of the Autobots (good guys) They all have a different ability that they contribute to the group. Bumblebee was my favorite Autobot because he seemed like the youngest, but also one of the strongest.
I liked the action so much that my friend and I went into another theater to watch the last half of the movie again.
To Lena: You are the youngest contributor to this site but also one of the strongest. Thank you.
The visual effects are the draw with this film. The computer generated Autobots and Decepticons are seamless and utterly believable. At several times the screen is just a mess of techno garble but for the most part the people at Industrial Light and Magic have realistically depicted a world where 30 foot robots come crashing to earth and change freely into cars, trucks and sport utility vehicles then back again into robots. Think about that for a second. That is not an easy feat.
The trouble with this movie is there is a whole lot more than Transformers in Transformers. The movie tries to be everything to everyone. It is clear that director Michael Bay has set out to entertain both children and the parents who bring them to (and pay for) the movie. However, there is also an attempt to appease the hordes of fanboys (and perhaps three fangirls) who have remained dedicated to the Transformers universe ever since they were in Snork pajamas. It seems that nothing has been left on the cutting room floor. There is a romance in there, as well as a family comedy, a military sub plot, cute robo-shenanigans and a techno caper to boot. It is a film that manages to pay homage to (or rip off, depending how cynical the viewer) Herbie the Love Bug, Short Circuit, Men in Black, Short Circuit II, Men in Black II, E.T., Starship Troopers, Independence Day, and Hackers, in no particular order.
The result, for me, is a wildly uneven movie that rambles on satisfying all of its viewers some of the time but less of us all of the time. However, I am but one man. In a Middlebrow Film Society first, below you will find an instant retort to my review. Written by Lena, my 13 year old cousin, I think you will find it well composed, thoughtful and far less jaded than my ramblings. Her first line should be on Transformers posters across America:
The movie Transformers is (in my opinion) a great movie for anyone who likes action, humor, and robots. One thing i found funny in the movie was the personalities of the Autobots (good guys) They all have a different ability that they contribute to the group. Bumblebee was my favorite Autobot because he seemed like the youngest, but also one of the strongest.
I liked the action so much that my friend and I went into another theater to watch the last half of the movie again.
To Lena: You are the youngest contributor to this site but also one of the strongest. Thank you.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
1408
This is a review from Peggy K.
Forced into the cineplex due to the fact that she is a mother, Peggy stumbled upon 1408...
I was looking for a movie to see in the same theater complex while my daughter and her friend saw Transformers. I had not even heard of or seen a preview for 1408, but I certainly was not going to see the big robot movie. The short review in the newspaper said it's from a short story by Stephen King and gave it a good grade.
This is a scary movie! John Cusack plays a writer who writes, tongue in cheek, about "haunted" hotels, though he himself is not a believer in ghosts or hauntings. Samuel L. Jackson is the manager of the Dolphin Hotel in NYC, where room 1408 is (in his words) "a f _ _ _ ing evil room", as he tries to dissuade Cusack from spending the night. Of course he stays anyway, and commences to be bombarded by ghosts of guests past, his inner demons, his own family tragedies, and all sorts of scary goings-on. There is even the "climb out the window on the 14th floor and try to make it over the ledge to the next room" scene. It works yet again.
Okay, some of it is over the top; I think The Shining had the right mix of supernatural/psychological scariness. With the special effects capabilities now, they seem to want to throw everything they can into a film.
A good Stephen King flick - I was pleasantly frightened!
Peggy K.
Forced into the cineplex due to the fact that she is a mother, Peggy stumbled upon 1408...
I was looking for a movie to see in the same theater complex while my daughter and her friend saw Transformers. I had not even heard of or seen a preview for 1408, but I certainly was not going to see the big robot movie. The short review in the newspaper said it's from a short story by Stephen King and gave it a good grade.
This is a scary movie! John Cusack plays a writer who writes, tongue in cheek, about "haunted" hotels, though he himself is not a believer in ghosts or hauntings. Samuel L. Jackson is the manager of the Dolphin Hotel in NYC, where room 1408 is (in his words) "a f _ _ _ ing evil room", as he tries to dissuade Cusack from spending the night. Of course he stays anyway, and commences to be bombarded by ghosts of guests past, his inner demons, his own family tragedies, and all sorts of scary goings-on. There is even the "climb out the window on the 14th floor and try to make it over the ledge to the next room" scene. It works yet again.
Okay, some of it is over the top; I think The Shining had the right mix of supernatural/psychological scariness. With the special effects capabilities now, they seem to want to throw everything they can into a film.
A good Stephen King flick - I was pleasantly frightened!
Peggy K.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Sicko
My health care provider runs a commercial on primetime TV. It urges me to eat well, get exercise, and take the stress out of my life. The underlying message is: take care of yourself so that we don’t have to. Michael Moore has created a film shows that shows us a health care system whose corruption, amorality, and deficiencies go much deeper than these calculated ads.
Sicko is the work of a propagandist (which is not always a pejorative) of great skill. Moore’s film strays little from the aesthetic that he established in his first film, Roger and Me and has not strayed from. Once again ironic footage of Americana and wistful music are juxtaposed against the harshness of real life. The patter of his script will be very familiar to patrons of his previous movies.
As he done in each of his films, Moore includes footage that you will never be able to get out of your head (the skinning of a rabbit in Roger and Me, the security camera footage of the massacre in Bowling for Columbine, the child victims of carpet bombings in Fahrenheit 9/11). In Sicko it is the image of a disoriented woman wandering Los Angeles’ skid row after being dumped there by a local hospital that will hit viewers in their cores.
As he did with Fahrenheit 9/11, Moore has made a more serious piece than, say, Bowling for Columbine. His signature humor (which is truly his greatest asset in bringing his message to the world) though still sharp, has been toned it down a bit. Moore, who was in almost every frame of Roger and Me, has largely removed himself from this film choosing to let victims of the health care system do the talking. He has even lowered the snarkiness quotient in his voice a few levels. This is appropriate for the often tragic nature of the film. However, the transitions to lighter fare are, at times, awkward. At these moments it feels like Moore is not sure what type of movie he wants to make.
The charge that Sicko is one sided is true. The fact that it is also a gripping and entertaining movie that appeals to middle class values is what scares his detractors. This film is not a documentary at all. It is a compelling expose of a national crisis and one man’s proposal for a solution. It is not unfair to characterize Sicko as a two hour commercial for nationalized health care. However, this is a commercial that Moore has the right to make. After all, we sit through plenty of air time that endorses privatized health care each time we turn on the TV.
Sicko is the work of a propagandist (which is not always a pejorative) of great skill. Moore’s film strays little from the aesthetic that he established in his first film, Roger and Me and has not strayed from. Once again ironic footage of Americana and wistful music are juxtaposed against the harshness of real life. The patter of his script will be very familiar to patrons of his previous movies.
As he done in each of his films, Moore includes footage that you will never be able to get out of your head (the skinning of a rabbit in Roger and Me, the security camera footage of the massacre in Bowling for Columbine, the child victims of carpet bombings in Fahrenheit 9/11). In Sicko it is the image of a disoriented woman wandering Los Angeles’ skid row after being dumped there by a local hospital that will hit viewers in their cores.
As he did with Fahrenheit 9/11, Moore has made a more serious piece than, say, Bowling for Columbine. His signature humor (which is truly his greatest asset in bringing his message to the world) though still sharp, has been toned it down a bit. Moore, who was in almost every frame of Roger and Me, has largely removed himself from this film choosing to let victims of the health care system do the talking. He has even lowered the snarkiness quotient in his voice a few levels. This is appropriate for the often tragic nature of the film. However, the transitions to lighter fare are, at times, awkward. At these moments it feels like Moore is not sure what type of movie he wants to make.
The charge that Sicko is one sided is true. The fact that it is also a gripping and entertaining movie that appeals to middle class values is what scares his detractors. This film is not a documentary at all. It is a compelling expose of a national crisis and one man’s proposal for a solution. It is not unfair to characterize Sicko as a two hour commercial for nationalized health care. However, this is a commercial that Moore has the right to make. After all, we sit through plenty of air time that endorses privatized health care each time we turn on the TV.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Is Funny Enough? The Case Against Knocked Up
Ever since I saw Knocked Up I have been getting into arguments. These arguments are of my own making. Some unsuspecting friend will ask, “Did you like it?” and I should simply say “Yeah it was very funny.” But, because I am annoyingly opinionated, I say, “It was funny but it is a bad movie.” Then I have to defend myself. Below I have written down the defense for my belief that Knocked Up, while funny, is not a good movie.
The easy part is establishing that this movie is funny. Director Judd Apatow has consistently brought the world laughter ever since he worked on the Ben Stiller Show (he occasionally portrayed the Fox Television Network’s mascot who was, of course, a slob dressed as a fox). There are dozens of memorable lines and sequences in Knocked Up that illicit hard, hard laughter. The humor is fresh and off beat; it is more frank and disarming than anything seen in a recent romantic comedy.
I admit to all of the aforementioned things being true each time I get in an argument about this film. Then, like a jerk, I have to say “But…” and proceed to mention the following:
It is not necessary for every single character in this movie to have a “funny moment”. There is a scene in 40 Year-Old Virgin (Apatow’s last film) where Jane Lynch, playing store manager Paula, informs Andy, Steve Carell's titular virgin, that she is “very discreet, but I’ll haunt your dreams.” This is a moment of hilarity that will go down in the record books. It seems that every supporting player in Knocked Up wants a similar moment all their own. These results of this are mixed(Kristen Wiig = quite funny, Ryan Seacrest = quite uncomfortable) but more importantly they slow the movie down. In a genre where timing is everything you can’t have a 129 minute movie where it feels like everything and anything that the filmmakers found amusing was included. Someone needs to take one for the team and be the straight man. Most of the Marx brothers' movies are about 80 minutes long and they understood the importance of having a Zeppo.
In addition, Knocked Up does not commit to its characters. In 40 Year-Old Virgin Andy is a fully realized person. One aspect of him is that he is a virgin and it is that aspect that drives the plot of the movie. However, at no time is the character of Andy altered to amplify the humor or the pathos of the movie. The character of Ben (played by Seth Rogan) in Knocked Up is a sarcastic stoner when that is funny, a lovable schlub when sympathy is required, a total jerk to create conflict, and finally, a matured companion to produce closure. This makes it difficult to care for Ben because the viewer never knows exactly who he is.
Normally I would not tear apart a comedy in such a manner. I am, after all, the guy who went to see Little Man with an open mind. It is just that Judd Apatow fancies himself someone capable of taking comedy to a higher level, and he often does. His latest is nothing more than a funny movie.
The easy part is establishing that this movie is funny. Director Judd Apatow has consistently brought the world laughter ever since he worked on the Ben Stiller Show (he occasionally portrayed the Fox Television Network’s mascot who was, of course, a slob dressed as a fox). There are dozens of memorable lines and sequences in Knocked Up that illicit hard, hard laughter. The humor is fresh and off beat; it is more frank and disarming than anything seen in a recent romantic comedy.
I admit to all of the aforementioned things being true each time I get in an argument about this film. Then, like a jerk, I have to say “But…” and proceed to mention the following:
It is not necessary for every single character in this movie to have a “funny moment”. There is a scene in 40 Year-Old Virgin (Apatow’s last film) where Jane Lynch, playing store manager Paula, informs Andy, Steve Carell's titular virgin, that she is “very discreet, but I’ll haunt your dreams.” This is a moment of hilarity that will go down in the record books. It seems that every supporting player in Knocked Up wants a similar moment all their own. These results of this are mixed(Kristen Wiig = quite funny, Ryan Seacrest = quite uncomfortable) but more importantly they slow the movie down. In a genre where timing is everything you can’t have a 129 minute movie where it feels like everything and anything that the filmmakers found amusing was included. Someone needs to take one for the team and be the straight man. Most of the Marx brothers' movies are about 80 minutes long and they understood the importance of having a Zeppo.
In addition, Knocked Up does not commit to its characters. In 40 Year-Old Virgin Andy is a fully realized person. One aspect of him is that he is a virgin and it is that aspect that drives the plot of the movie. However, at no time is the character of Andy altered to amplify the humor or the pathos of the movie. The character of Ben (played by Seth Rogan) in Knocked Up is a sarcastic stoner when that is funny, a lovable schlub when sympathy is required, a total jerk to create conflict, and finally, a matured companion to produce closure. This makes it difficult to care for Ben because the viewer never knows exactly who he is.
Normally I would not tear apart a comedy in such a manner. I am, after all, the guy who went to see Little Man with an open mind. It is just that Judd Apatow fancies himself someone capable of taking comedy to a higher level, and he often does. His latest is nothing more than a funny movie.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Ocean's Thirteen: The Film that was Barely There
Ocean’s Thirteen is fine. Not fine like a Magritte painting or Cuban rum; fine like a sandwich from Subway. It is by no means the greatest thing you have eaten this week but at least it is not a Beef n’ Cheddar from Arby’s.
Steven Soderberg and his posse of collaborators have created a piece of film so smooth and mild that you may leave only with the vague sense that you saw a movie. It flows along at an easy speed so you will not be jarred. The actors are appropriately handsome, charming, dastardly, funny and (in the case of Ellen Barkin) too hot for their age; but not so much that you will nudge the person next to you and comment on it. There are jokes you will laugh at but not remember. There are plot twists that are convincing only if you promise yourself not to give them a second thought later on. And so the movie progresses and climaxes and ends and you leave $9 poorer feeling as if you have been marginally entertained but unable to verbalize why.
At the end of its run in theaters Ocean’s Thirteen will have made lots of money. It is destined to make a killing in DVD as well because no one will be able to remember if they saw it in the theater or not.
Steven Soderberg and his posse of collaborators have created a piece of film so smooth and mild that you may leave only with the vague sense that you saw a movie. It flows along at an easy speed so you will not be jarred. The actors are appropriately handsome, charming, dastardly, funny and (in the case of Ellen Barkin) too hot for their age; but not so much that you will nudge the person next to you and comment on it. There are jokes you will laugh at but not remember. There are plot twists that are convincing only if you promise yourself not to give them a second thought later on. And so the movie progresses and climaxes and ends and you leave $9 poorer feeling as if you have been marginally entertained but unable to verbalize why.
At the end of its run in theaters Ocean’s Thirteen will have made lots of money. It is destined to make a killing in DVD as well because no one will be able to remember if they saw it in the theater or not.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Will it or won’t it???
I am, of course, pondering whether or not Live Free and Die Hard will rule. In recent weeks I felt so nervous and conflicted over this question that I have considered not seeing the movie at all. But today I am going to gather the courage and go see what my man has to offer me after all these years.
My relationship with John McClane is long and rocky (much like his relationship with Holly). I heard about John long before I ever saw him. We had a strict policy against macho action movies in our home. But next door neighbor extraordinaire, Eric Guerrero, who had seen Die Hard either because he was a year older or absolutely no parental supervision, told me all about him. I knew John was a gruff cop with no respect for authority, I knew he let Hans Gruber fall to his demise. I knew he didn’t wear shoes. I was, to say the least, intrigued.
When Die Hard 2: Die Harder was released I heard about it not from Eric but around the dinner table with my relatives. My uncle said that Die Hard 2 had the largest body count ever in a movie (a fact that I have never doubted nor verified) because an entire plane of innocent people crashes. “How could John let such a thing happen?” I thought to myself. It was not until years later upon seeing the film that I learned John did everything to save those Irish people on that plane. God bless him.
In my early teen years the family stigma around violence loosened. I recall rollerblading to the video store to rent the Die Hard movies. At first sight John McClane felt like an uncle. A totally bad ass uncle. Way more bad ass than my uncle who chastised Die Hard 2 for its high body count. His adventures in Nakatomi tower and the airport were just as incredible as I had imagined. Then, in the 10th grade, I got to see John on the big screen for the first time. I have to admit that I went to a 10:30 am show of Die Hard with a Vengence by myself. I didn’t want to share the experience with my friends or too many other theater goers. While the movie was a little off base I think it is too quickly dismissed by most casual viewers. I mean, the man saves his hometown from another member of the Gruber family! It is set during a heat wave! Samuel L. Jackson wears glasses!
It has been a long time since I’ve seen John. Sure there was the Die Hard video game that I bought and dominated. I even married a young woman who watches the first movie with her family each Christmas. But John has been largely absent from my life lately. Tonight at 7:30 I will let him back in. I hope he doesn’t disappoint.
P.S. If you go to youtube.com and look up "Die Hard music video" you should be able to find something hilarious. But be warned it does have some bad words. Yippie ki yay etc.
My relationship with John McClane is long and rocky (much like his relationship with Holly). I heard about John long before I ever saw him. We had a strict policy against macho action movies in our home. But next door neighbor extraordinaire, Eric Guerrero, who had seen Die Hard either because he was a year older or absolutely no parental supervision, told me all about him. I knew John was a gruff cop with no respect for authority, I knew he let Hans Gruber fall to his demise. I knew he didn’t wear shoes. I was, to say the least, intrigued.
When Die Hard 2: Die Harder was released I heard about it not from Eric but around the dinner table with my relatives. My uncle said that Die Hard 2 had the largest body count ever in a movie (a fact that I have never doubted nor verified) because an entire plane of innocent people crashes. “How could John let such a thing happen?” I thought to myself. It was not until years later upon seeing the film that I learned John did everything to save those Irish people on that plane. God bless him.
In my early teen years the family stigma around violence loosened. I recall rollerblading to the video store to rent the Die Hard movies. At first sight John McClane felt like an uncle. A totally bad ass uncle. Way more bad ass than my uncle who chastised Die Hard 2 for its high body count. His adventures in Nakatomi tower and the airport were just as incredible as I had imagined. Then, in the 10th grade, I got to see John on the big screen for the first time. I have to admit that I went to a 10:30 am show of Die Hard with a Vengence by myself. I didn’t want to share the experience with my friends or too many other theater goers. While the movie was a little off base I think it is too quickly dismissed by most casual viewers. I mean, the man saves his hometown from another member of the Gruber family! It is set during a heat wave! Samuel L. Jackson wears glasses!
It has been a long time since I’ve seen John. Sure there was the Die Hard video game that I bought and dominated. I even married a young woman who watches the first movie with her family each Christmas. But John has been largely absent from my life lately. Tonight at 7:30 I will let him back in. I hope he doesn’t disappoint.
P.S. If you go to youtube.com and look up "Die Hard music video" you should be able to find something hilarious. But be warned it does have some bad words. Yippie ki yay etc.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Hot Fizzle? An unfair review of a perfectly fine movie
Cinematic success seems like a real pisser. This is not the thought of a jealous critic who will never be as famous as the subjects that he mercilously judges. It is the thought I had while watching Hot Fuzz, the new comedy from writer-director Edgar Wright and writer-star Simon Pegg.
The movie is an off beat British take to American kaboom-style action flicks. It is the perfect balance of satire and homage; the glory and idiocy of the genre are given equal time. While the film is full of memorable supporting performances (particularly by Paddy Considine and Rafe Spall as detectives both named Andy) its cornerstone is the relationship between Pegg (as the expeditious Sargent Nicholas Angel) and long time collaborator Nick Frost (as Danny Butterman, his protégé with a penchant for bafoonery). These two actors have an amazing connection that is hilarious, adorable, and believable all at the same time.
All of these elements would make for a joyous time at the movies if it were not for something called Shaun of the Dead. The 2004 film, which is one of the best comedies of the last decade, was Wright and Pegg’s satire/homage of splatter-style zombie flicks. I found it impossible not to spend the whole movie comparing and contrasting the two. I couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that Hot Fuzz is a flatter version of Shaun of the Dead.
It is this thought that fills me with empathy for these filmmakers. In my mind, the quality of Hot Fuzz is diminished by the excellence of Shaun of the Dead. And this is the pisser. Success causes fans of your film to become the harshest critics of everything you do henceforth (perusal of any fan site on the internet will attest to this fact). We criticize Hot Fuzz because it is a slightly sub par Shaun of the Dead. Yet, had the follow up film been a huge departure, we’d probably be bemoaning that as well. It is a pickle.
I will close with a more appropriate comparison to put the film in perspective. Hot Fuzz is much funnier, more original and satisfying than the myriad of movie genre satires that have been released in recent years. It is my hope that you will go to this movie and enjoy it like a sensible person and enjoy it for what it is, not focus on what it isn't.
The movie is an off beat British take to American kaboom-style action flicks. It is the perfect balance of satire and homage; the glory and idiocy of the genre are given equal time. While the film is full of memorable supporting performances (particularly by Paddy Considine and Rafe Spall as detectives both named Andy) its cornerstone is the relationship between Pegg (as the expeditious Sargent Nicholas Angel) and long time collaborator Nick Frost (as Danny Butterman, his protégé with a penchant for bafoonery). These two actors have an amazing connection that is hilarious, adorable, and believable all at the same time.
All of these elements would make for a joyous time at the movies if it were not for something called Shaun of the Dead. The 2004 film, which is one of the best comedies of the last decade, was Wright and Pegg’s satire/homage of splatter-style zombie flicks. I found it impossible not to spend the whole movie comparing and contrasting the two. I couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that Hot Fuzz is a flatter version of Shaun of the Dead.
It is this thought that fills me with empathy for these filmmakers. In my mind, the quality of Hot Fuzz is diminished by the excellence of Shaun of the Dead. And this is the pisser. Success causes fans of your film to become the harshest critics of everything you do henceforth (perusal of any fan site on the internet will attest to this fact). We criticize Hot Fuzz because it is a slightly sub par Shaun of the Dead. Yet, had the follow up film been a huge departure, we’d probably be bemoaning that as well. It is a pickle.
I will close with a more appropriate comparison to put the film in perspective. Hot Fuzz is much funnier, more original and satisfying than the myriad of movie genre satires that have been released in recent years. It is my hope that you will go to this movie and enjoy it like a sensible person and enjoy it for what it is, not focus on what it isn't.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Not a Review of Grindhouse
I saw Grindhouse when it opened three weeks ago. Since then I have been trying to write a review of it. Each draft has failed to capture what I want to say about the movie(s). So in lieu of a proper review allow me to make the following statement:
If you love going to the movies, go and see Grindhouse. Go to the theater for the experience. Pack the house with your friends, bring along someone you might want to steal a kiss from, sneek in your favorite refreshments and have a full evening at the movies. Try to time it so that you arrive after the myriad commercials and animated sequences that show off the "impressive" power of the theaters sound system. If you hit your seats when the faux trailer for Machete begins you will be transported to a time when going to the movies was a little more fun than it has been lately.
It really doesn't matter that Planet Terror and Death Proof are not the best exploitation films ever, nor are they the best fims by the Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez. Grindhouse needs to be congratulated for celebrating a love for the movies and bringing fun back to the movie going process.
If you love going to the movies, go and see Grindhouse. Go to the theater for the experience. Pack the house with your friends, bring along someone you might want to steal a kiss from, sneek in your favorite refreshments and have a full evening at the movies. Try to time it so that you arrive after the myriad commercials and animated sequences that show off the "impressive" power of the theaters sound system. If you hit your seats when the faux trailer for Machete begins you will be transported to a time when going to the movies was a little more fun than it has been lately.
It really doesn't matter that Planet Terror and Death Proof are not the best exploitation films ever, nor are they the best fims by the Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez. Grindhouse needs to be congratulated for celebrating a love for the movies and bringing fun back to the movie going process.
Best feature length cartoon since Care Bears: The Movie
Aqua Teen Hunger Force is an 11 minute absurdist cartoon that airs late at night on Cartoon Network's Adult Swim. The show’s humor both caters to and mocks a very specific type of person: Younger adults who grew up addicted to 2-D video games and dabbled in Dungeons and Dragons, then went to college and delved deep into the culture of weed.
You don’t have to fit this description to enjoy the show, or the feature length Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film for Theaters, but it does help to have some knowledge of their realm. In my experience the Aqua Teens are something you either connect with or revile. The film version does nothing to reach out to a wider audience. So, if you have never seen the show please do so before bothering to see the movie (or bothering to read the rest of this review for that matter).
If you are still with us, the movie is quite a success. Matt Maiellaro and Dave Willis have not tried to make a flashier version of their TV show. Instead, they have created a great episode that happens to be eight times the usual length. The regular string of non-sequiturs and rapid fire jokes only slows once or twice during entire film. There is a semblance of a plot if you are interested in following it. The jumbled “origin story” of the Aqua Teens is a hilarious jab at TV-Movie crossovers like The Muppet Movie.
The achievement of this film (unlike Reno 911: Miami reviewed previously) is that the creators know why their show rules and they did not stray from that formula. There is a far more important TV cartoon to movie cartoon transfer coming out this summer. The people behind the Simpsons movie had better deliver a product that stays true their show (hopefully it stays particularly true to season 4). Otherwise there will be a lot of angry nerds out there, me included.
P.S. If you are a fan of the humor on display in Aqua Teen Hunger Force be sure that you are visiting the following sites:
1. marriedtothesea.com
2. nataliedee.com
3. toothpastefordinner.com
These sites are not for those of you with delicate sensibilities. You have been warned.
You don’t have to fit this description to enjoy the show, or the feature length Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film for Theaters, but it does help to have some knowledge of their realm. In my experience the Aqua Teens are something you either connect with or revile. The film version does nothing to reach out to a wider audience. So, if you have never seen the show please do so before bothering to see the movie (or bothering to read the rest of this review for that matter).
If you are still with us, the movie is quite a success. Matt Maiellaro and Dave Willis have not tried to make a flashier version of their TV show. Instead, they have created a great episode that happens to be eight times the usual length. The regular string of non-sequiturs and rapid fire jokes only slows once or twice during entire film. There is a semblance of a plot if you are interested in following it. The jumbled “origin story” of the Aqua Teens is a hilarious jab at TV-Movie crossovers like The Muppet Movie.
The achievement of this film (unlike Reno 911: Miami reviewed previously) is that the creators know why their show rules and they did not stray from that formula. There is a far more important TV cartoon to movie cartoon transfer coming out this summer. The people behind the Simpsons movie had better deliver a product that stays true their show (hopefully it stays particularly true to season 4). Otherwise there will be a lot of angry nerds out there, me included.
P.S. If you are a fan of the humor on display in Aqua Teen Hunger Force be sure that you are visiting the following sites:
1. marriedtothesea.com
2. nataliedee.com
3. toothpastefordinner.com
These sites are not for those of you with delicate sensibilities. You have been warned.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Reno 911: Miami
The State is important to me. This MTV comedy show from the dawn of the 90s is, in my mind,one of the funniest programs ever presented on TV. From Doug, to the open letter to Chelsea Clinton, to Porcupine Racetrack, the show had a voice all its own. It was not Saturday Night Live and that was a good thing. The cast of The State did not do impressions of politicians or celebrities (at least not good ones), they didn’t even appear to be polished performers. They were like you and your friends if you and your friends were about a thousand times funnier.
The State in its original incarnation is long gone. Its creators and performers continue to collaborate on movies and television with varying degrees of success (oddly their most lucrative endeavors are the scripts for broad family fare like The Pacifier and Night at the Museum penned by cast members Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon). In 2003 many of the Staties got together and created Reno 911, a faux COPS that centers around the deputies of a faux Reno Sheriff department.
Initially I was unsure about Reno 911 as a TV show. It seemed a little blunt; the jokes were all a little easy. After repeated viewings, I came to realize the secret of the show’s genius. The set ups and the gags are not where the true humor of the lies (these are often on the level of what can be found on Mad TV or Blue Collar Comedy Hour) but rather in the characters. Each cast member is utterly committed to her or his uproariously lovable/pathetic character. Over the course of the shows several seasons the actors have grown more comfortable with their on screen alter egos and this is where things become truly hilarious. In short, it is not funny that the deputies bungle an arrest (because this happens multiple times an episode) but the character’s responses, reactions, and quips are funny, really funny.
The successes of Reno 911 have been parlayed into a feature film. The finished product, Reno 911:Miami forsakes almost all of what is great about the show. There seems to be an attempt to appeal to viewers who have never seen the television incarnation(whole segments of the film are lifted from early episodes of the program) and this makes it impossible for the cast members to shine. There is also an attempt to make the movie larger than the TV show (nudity, big time celebrity cameos) which just distracts. When the Rock appears on screen his only purpose is to make it seem impressive that the filmmakers were able to get the Rock to appear in their movie.
There are several times where the cast members are able to rise above the misinformed structure of the film. A sex scene between Deputies Weigel and Dangle (Kerri Kenney and Lennon) sticks out as one of the few scenes that actually made good use of the R-rated format. But the film as a whole is uneven. Whole characters (most notably Cedric Yarbough’s Deputy Jones who is a highlight of the show) seem to be forgotten or underdeveloped.
I hope this is not the last we see of the Reno Sheriff department. It would be a pretty lame send off.
The State in its original incarnation is long gone. Its creators and performers continue to collaborate on movies and television with varying degrees of success (oddly their most lucrative endeavors are the scripts for broad family fare like The Pacifier and Night at the Museum penned by cast members Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon). In 2003 many of the Staties got together and created Reno 911, a faux COPS that centers around the deputies of a faux Reno Sheriff department.
Initially I was unsure about Reno 911 as a TV show. It seemed a little blunt; the jokes were all a little easy. After repeated viewings, I came to realize the secret of the show’s genius. The set ups and the gags are not where the true humor of the lies (these are often on the level of what can be found on Mad TV or Blue Collar Comedy Hour) but rather in the characters. Each cast member is utterly committed to her or his uproariously lovable/pathetic character. Over the course of the shows several seasons the actors have grown more comfortable with their on screen alter egos and this is where things become truly hilarious. In short, it is not funny that the deputies bungle an arrest (because this happens multiple times an episode) but the character’s responses, reactions, and quips are funny, really funny.
The successes of Reno 911 have been parlayed into a feature film. The finished product, Reno 911:Miami forsakes almost all of what is great about the show. There seems to be an attempt to appeal to viewers who have never seen the television incarnation(whole segments of the film are lifted from early episodes of the program) and this makes it impossible for the cast members to shine. There is also an attempt to make the movie larger than the TV show (nudity, big time celebrity cameos) which just distracts. When the Rock appears on screen his only purpose is to make it seem impressive that the filmmakers were able to get the Rock to appear in their movie.
There are several times where the cast members are able to rise above the misinformed structure of the film. A sex scene between Deputies Weigel and Dangle (Kerri Kenney and Lennon) sticks out as one of the few scenes that actually made good use of the R-rated format. But the film as a whole is uneven. Whole characters (most notably Cedric Yarbough’s Deputy Jones who is a highlight of the show) seem to be forgotten or underdeveloped.
I hope this is not the last we see of the Reno Sheriff department. It would be a pretty lame send off.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Zodiac-Two reviews in one
Zodiac is quite an impressive movie for so early in the year. As a result I have included two reviews. The first is by my colleague Peggy K. The one that follws is by me. I think they tackle the film from different angles. Enjoy.
N@
Zodiac
I have to start by admitting that I am a true crime enthusiast/fanatic. From the time I heard this movie was being made I couldn't wait for it to come out.
The movie is based on books by Robert Graysmith, a cartoonist at the San Francisco Chronicle at the time "Zodiac" killed several people in that area, beginning in the late '60's. The killer sent taunting letters to the local newspapers, which is how Graysmith got involved, and ultimately obsessed, with the case. His first book, Zodiac written in the mid-1980's details the crimes, the investigation and possible suspects. The Zodiac killer was never "caught" and charged with the crimes, though most of those involved believe they know his identity. (He died in the early 1990's).
In his more recent book, Zodiac Unmasked, Graysmith names that suspect, Arthur Leigh Allen, and writes chronologically of the events and the investigation that spanned many years. This book is the basis for the movie.
Okay, back to the movie. The cast is excellent . Everyone looks the part - hair and clothes - of the 60's and 70's, except maybe the main character. Jake Gyllenhaal plays Robert Graysmith. He probably looks a little more cool in the movie than he actually did in the 60's, but hey, he's the star. Although the actual crimes are briefly touched upon, the real message is the impact on the lives of those closely involved in trying to catch the killer, (not to mention the rest of the Bay Area at the time). At one point, when Graysmith's family life has pretty much fallen apart because of his total absorption in the case, (and remember, he's a cartoonist at the newspaper, not a cop), his wife asks him - why? His answer is that he "has to know who did this". And you totally believe and understand his answer.
This movie is almost 3 hours long, and I don't remember any other 3 hour movies that were worth it. Wait - maybe I don't remember any other 3 hour movies at all!!
When it ended, I couldn't believe that much time had passed.
My husband and daughter also loved the movie; they are not crime afficionados like me.
Peggy K.
Zodiac
David Fincher reinvented the serial killer movie in 1995 with Seven. That film took a stale genre (think Copycat) and made a cool movie that was also utterly scary. With Zodiac, he has reentered the realm of serial killers and creates a movie that is even more interesting.
Zodiac is actually two films about the real life Zodiac Killer (this is why the film’s 157 minute running time is needed). One film is a polished thriller complete with gruesome murders (you will have a real sense of what being stabbed must feel like after one scene), thrilling chases, and coincidental plot points. In this movie, the cops have witty banter about animal crackers and there are more than a couple scenes full of sheer terror.
The second film tackles the subject matter as it actually happened. The real Zodiac case dragged on for years, mired by issues of jurisdiction and protocol that are rarely seen in Hollywood depictions of the police. These cops (and reporters who help them) chase more scraps of paper, archived documents, and “telefaxes” (which were the very latest in crime fighting technology at the time) than they do actual perps. This story has no clear arc; like real life it has fits and spurts and a somewhat disappointing conclusion.
These two films intertwine and compete for the viewers attention. Both films collide in a meta- scene where the characters go to see a film version of their lives, all inside of another movie about their lives. Inspector David Toschi (Mark Ruffalo) stands defeated in front of a movie poster of an exultant Dirty Harry. This image presents the viewer with a question: Which movie would you rather watch? The cool, moody thriller or the procedural real life story?
I am embarrassed to say that I became so enthralled in the scary elements of the movie that I secretly hoped Fincher would turn away from the facts of the case and give us what he and only a handful of other directors can, an actual horror movie. In the end he is able to raise the real story to a level that is more interesting and engrossing, which shows just how talented he is as a director.
N@
Zodiac
I have to start by admitting that I am a true crime enthusiast/fanatic. From the time I heard this movie was being made I couldn't wait for it to come out.
The movie is based on books by Robert Graysmith, a cartoonist at the San Francisco Chronicle at the time "Zodiac" killed several people in that area, beginning in the late '60's. The killer sent taunting letters to the local newspapers, which is how Graysmith got involved, and ultimately obsessed, with the case. His first book, Zodiac written in the mid-1980's details the crimes, the investigation and possible suspects. The Zodiac killer was never "caught" and charged with the crimes, though most of those involved believe they know his identity. (He died in the early 1990's).
In his more recent book, Zodiac Unmasked, Graysmith names that suspect, Arthur Leigh Allen, and writes chronologically of the events and the investigation that spanned many years. This book is the basis for the movie.
Okay, back to the movie. The cast is excellent . Everyone looks the part - hair and clothes - of the 60's and 70's, except maybe the main character. Jake Gyllenhaal plays Robert Graysmith. He probably looks a little more cool in the movie than he actually did in the 60's, but hey, he's the star. Although the actual crimes are briefly touched upon, the real message is the impact on the lives of those closely involved in trying to catch the killer, (not to mention the rest of the Bay Area at the time). At one point, when Graysmith's family life has pretty much fallen apart because of his total absorption in the case, (and remember, he's a cartoonist at the newspaper, not a cop), his wife asks him - why? His answer is that he "has to know who did this". And you totally believe and understand his answer.
This movie is almost 3 hours long, and I don't remember any other 3 hour movies that were worth it. Wait - maybe I don't remember any other 3 hour movies at all!!
When it ended, I couldn't believe that much time had passed.
My husband and daughter also loved the movie; they are not crime afficionados like me.
Peggy K.
Zodiac
David Fincher reinvented the serial killer movie in 1995 with Seven. That film took a stale genre (think Copycat) and made a cool movie that was also utterly scary. With Zodiac, he has reentered the realm of serial killers and creates a movie that is even more interesting.
Zodiac is actually two films about the real life Zodiac Killer (this is why the film’s 157 minute running time is needed). One film is a polished thriller complete with gruesome murders (you will have a real sense of what being stabbed must feel like after one scene), thrilling chases, and coincidental plot points. In this movie, the cops have witty banter about animal crackers and there are more than a couple scenes full of sheer terror.
The second film tackles the subject matter as it actually happened. The real Zodiac case dragged on for years, mired by issues of jurisdiction and protocol that are rarely seen in Hollywood depictions of the police. These cops (and reporters who help them) chase more scraps of paper, archived documents, and “telefaxes” (which were the very latest in crime fighting technology at the time) than they do actual perps. This story has no clear arc; like real life it has fits and spurts and a somewhat disappointing conclusion.
These two films intertwine and compete for the viewers attention. Both films collide in a meta- scene where the characters go to see a film version of their lives, all inside of another movie about their lives. Inspector David Toschi (Mark Ruffalo) stands defeated in front of a movie poster of an exultant Dirty Harry. This image presents the viewer with a question: Which movie would you rather watch? The cool, moody thriller or the procedural real life story?
I am embarrassed to say that I became so enthralled in the scary elements of the movie that I secretly hoped Fincher would turn away from the facts of the case and give us what he and only a handful of other directors can, an actual horror movie. In the end he is able to raise the real story to a level that is more interesting and engrossing, which shows just how talented he is as a director.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Matters of Length
I watched Thank You for Smoking on Monday night. The film's biting wit and perect "just over the top feel" should be commended. However, the element of this film for which I have the most respect is its length. In a tidy hour and 38 minutes the film is able to craft a fine story as well as give us something to talk and think about. After sitting through all of the award season movies, this feat seems like a marvel. Making a longer film does not mean you are making a better film. I don't have to take your work more seriously because the studio let you run past 120 minutes.
I must confess that there are some movies that need and deserve the time to develop. But for every Boogie Nights there are oodles of movies like What Women Want (the horrendous Mel Gibson-Helen Hunt picture where Mel hears what women are thinking for an unbelievable 126 minutes). More importantly, great films can be brief. Let's not forget that Alvy was able to meet, fall for, lose, and try to reconcile with Annie Hall all in an hour and 33 minutes, and still have time to bring out Marshall McLuhan for a cameo.
Like the films that I am praising I will be brief. Let us know some of your favorite short movies as well as those that earn the right to be long.
I must confess that there are some movies that need and deserve the time to develop. But for every Boogie Nights there are oodles of movies like What Women Want (the horrendous Mel Gibson-Helen Hunt picture where Mel hears what women are thinking for an unbelievable 126 minutes). More importantly, great films can be brief. Let's not forget that Alvy was able to meet, fall for, lose, and try to reconcile with Annie Hall all in an hour and 33 minutes, and still have time to bring out Marshall McLuhan for a cameo.
Like the films that I am praising I will be brief. Let us know some of your favorite short movies as well as those that earn the right to be long.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Obligatory Oscar Post #5
Oscar Nominee: Letters from Iwo Jima
Of all the films nominated for Best Picture, Letter from Iwo Jima presents us with the bag that is the most mixed. One factor in its favor: it is an American movie with the audacity to use subtitles. This is refreshing in light of last year’s Memoirs of a Geisha and other films where foreign language speakers, for some odd reason, speak accented English. The film also fully commits to showing the Japanese side of the Battle of Iwo Jima. In the same way that All Quiet on the Western Front forced readers into the lives of the “enemy”, Letters allows the stereotypes about the Japanese army (unemotional, hyper-patriotic and willing to blow themselves up on order to kill Americans) to dissolve into a more realistic gray area.
Once the film establishes these two novel (and important) elements, it devolves into a fairly pedestrian war movie. There are explosions and gore; messages and morals. This aspect of the film is not handled as creatively as it should be. The present-day bookend segments make the viewer think of Titanic, and that is not a good thing. Director Clint Eastwood is not afraid to apply a heavy hand to this delicate work. The ideas that the filmmakers want to put across are shown in images AND explained in words…just in case you missed them. It is as if they are afraid that the viewer can’t read subtitles and think at the same time.
Like a bag of fresh popcorn mixed with stale Cheetos, Letters from Iwo Jima should be enjoyed for its marvelous aspects and the rest can be discarded.
Of all the films nominated for Best Picture, Letter from Iwo Jima presents us with the bag that is the most mixed. One factor in its favor: it is an American movie with the audacity to use subtitles. This is refreshing in light of last year’s Memoirs of a Geisha and other films where foreign language speakers, for some odd reason, speak accented English. The film also fully commits to showing the Japanese side of the Battle of Iwo Jima. In the same way that All Quiet on the Western Front forced readers into the lives of the “enemy”, Letters allows the stereotypes about the Japanese army (unemotional, hyper-patriotic and willing to blow themselves up on order to kill Americans) to dissolve into a more realistic gray area.
Once the film establishes these two novel (and important) elements, it devolves into a fairly pedestrian war movie. There are explosions and gore; messages and morals. This aspect of the film is not handled as creatively as it should be. The present-day bookend segments make the viewer think of Titanic, and that is not a good thing. Director Clint Eastwood is not afraid to apply a heavy hand to this delicate work. The ideas that the filmmakers want to put across are shown in images AND explained in words…just in case you missed them. It is as if they are afraid that the viewer can’t read subtitles and think at the same time.
Like a bag of fresh popcorn mixed with stale Cheetos, Letters from Iwo Jima should be enjoyed for its marvelous aspects and the rest can be discarded.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Obligatory Oscar Post #4
Oscar Nominee: Babel is intense. It has intense music. It takes place in intense locales. Brad Pitt is so intense that his hair has gone white. The trouble is all of this intensity builds up around a set of characters you are never given incentive to care about. The four storylines bounce around at a pace that all but guarantees you won’t lose yourself in this film. Instead you are constantly reminded that the stories are being manipulated by director Alejandro González Iñárritu’s vision. Instead you think about how exhausting it must have been shooting in so many varied locations. Instead you think about how you wouldn’t mind if the two American children in the movie were left to die in the desert because they are so damned annoying. This film has been crafted, not simply made. Those who crafted it will not let you forget about them even for a minute.
The movie isn’t a total wash. There are two stellar performances that bring some humanity to this cold, cold, film. Said Tarchani plays a young Moroccan boy whose ability to fire a rifle sets two of the storylines in motion. His facial expressions are undeniably authentic and you begin to feel what it would be like to be in such a horrific situation. Rinko Kikuchi is similarly able to pull us into her character’s search for contact in a sterile and bigoted environment. Too bad they get swallowed up in this supposed grand gesture of a movie that ends up minimizing these ostensibly intense stories with the manner in which they are displayed.
The movie isn’t a total wash. There are two stellar performances that bring some humanity to this cold, cold, film. Said Tarchani plays a young Moroccan boy whose ability to fire a rifle sets two of the storylines in motion. His facial expressions are undeniably authentic and you begin to feel what it would be like to be in such a horrific situation. Rinko Kikuchi is similarly able to pull us into her character’s search for contact in a sterile and bigoted environment. Too bad they get swallowed up in this supposed grand gesture of a movie that ends up minimizing these ostensibly intense stories with the manner in which they are displayed.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Obligatory Oscar Post #3
Oscar Nominee: The Queen
Some critics have stated that The Queen is more movie-of-the-week than Best Picture material. But it is this film’s ability to take a story from (relatively) recent history and not sensationalize it that makes it worthy of praise. At first the viewer feels she is watching a group of actors do imitations of famous British people. This feeling fades very quickly as the characters are allowed to develop. This is where the exceptional talents of Helen Mirren (as Her Majesty) and Michael Sheen (as a young, promising Tony Blair) make all of the difference.
Another point of criticism is that several scenes in the film have been fabricated. The plot of the film is well known so the movie cannot draw its power from shock or suspense. It must instead reveal aspects of the characters that would be impossible for the viewer to see in real life. Watching the Queen of England watch T.V. is more fascinating than one might think. Imagining certain aspects of the story allows the movie to be more than reenactments of clips from BBC news.
The most inspiring thing about The Queen is the commitment the filmmakers had to traditional narrative storytelling. It is through well crafted dialogue, acting, and pacing that The Queen becomes an engrossing picture. Too often in recent years directors have resorted to cinematic trickery (flashbacks and flashes forward, elliptical plotlines, interweaving stories, revealing the narrative backwards, etc.) to make an average movie seem revolutionary. If The Queen had been a poorly made film the viewer would know. The movie leaves itself with nothing to hide behind.
Some critics have stated that The Queen is more movie-of-the-week than Best Picture material. But it is this film’s ability to take a story from (relatively) recent history and not sensationalize it that makes it worthy of praise. At first the viewer feels she is watching a group of actors do imitations of famous British people. This feeling fades very quickly as the characters are allowed to develop. This is where the exceptional talents of Helen Mirren (as Her Majesty) and Michael Sheen (as a young, promising Tony Blair) make all of the difference.
Another point of criticism is that several scenes in the film have been fabricated. The plot of the film is well known so the movie cannot draw its power from shock or suspense. It must instead reveal aspects of the characters that would be impossible for the viewer to see in real life. Watching the Queen of England watch T.V. is more fascinating than one might think. Imagining certain aspects of the story allows the movie to be more than reenactments of clips from BBC news.
The most inspiring thing about The Queen is the commitment the filmmakers had to traditional narrative storytelling. It is through well crafted dialogue, acting, and pacing that The Queen becomes an engrossing picture. Too often in recent years directors have resorted to cinematic trickery (flashbacks and flashes forward, elliptical plotlines, interweaving stories, revealing the narrative backwards, etc.) to make an average movie seem revolutionary. If The Queen had been a poorly made film the viewer would know. The movie leaves itself with nothing to hide behind.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Obligatory Oscar Post #2
Oscar Nominee: Little Miss Sunshine
The appeal of Little Miss Sunshine is understandable. It is a cute movie with fairly sharp dialogue and acceptable performances by its ensemble cast. The thing about this movie that irritates me is its supposed “indie” sensibility. Just because a movie is bought at Sundance does not make it a piece of fringe entertainment. Many fans of this movie think it makes them hip. They act as if they have just watched Andy Warhol’s Chelsea Hotel. Like Napoleon Dynamite before it, this film is a crowd pleaser in disguise. There are no shocks being sent through the film community with the craft or content of Little Miss Sunshine. I am not saying there is anything wrong with liking the movie but it needs to be enjoyed for what it is: a standard Hollywood comedy (with a slightly better script and a slightly lower budget) that steals way too many of its “quirky” points from National Lampoon’s Vacation (which, should have won Best Picture in 1983).
Oscar Overlooked: Little Children
Much ado was made about the dysfunctional family portrayed in Little Miss Sunshine. The dysfunction in display in Little Children manages to be both more realistic and more humorous than in the other film. This is the film I have wanted to talk about this year. This is the film that has kept evolving in my mind weeks after viewing it. Little Childeren makes the audience feel uncomfortable; not for the sake of doing it but to bring us closer to the characters and their motivations. I witnessed this films ability to grab a theater full of jaded film snobs and envelop us in this story. For that feat alone this film deserves recognition.
The appeal of Little Miss Sunshine is understandable. It is a cute movie with fairly sharp dialogue and acceptable performances by its ensemble cast. The thing about this movie that irritates me is its supposed “indie” sensibility. Just because a movie is bought at Sundance does not make it a piece of fringe entertainment. Many fans of this movie think it makes them hip. They act as if they have just watched Andy Warhol’s Chelsea Hotel. Like Napoleon Dynamite before it, this film is a crowd pleaser in disguise. There are no shocks being sent through the film community with the craft or content of Little Miss Sunshine. I am not saying there is anything wrong with liking the movie but it needs to be enjoyed for what it is: a standard Hollywood comedy (with a slightly better script and a slightly lower budget) that steals way too many of its “quirky” points from National Lampoon’s Vacation (which, should have won Best Picture in 1983).
Oscar Overlooked: Little Children
Much ado was made about the dysfunctional family portrayed in Little Miss Sunshine. The dysfunction in display in Little Children manages to be both more realistic and more humorous than in the other film. This is the film I have wanted to talk about this year. This is the film that has kept evolving in my mind weeks after viewing it. Little Childeren makes the audience feel uncomfortable; not for the sake of doing it but to bring us closer to the characters and their motivations. I witnessed this films ability to grab a theater full of jaded film snobs and envelop us in this story. For that feat alone this film deserves recognition.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Obligatory Oscar Post #1
With five days until the event that we all love to have mixed feelings about, the Academy Awards need to be addressed. Each day for the next five days I will post a brief review of a movie that is nominated for best picture and some for movies I wish had been nominated. Here we go with installment #1:
Oscar Nominee: The Departed
This movie worked. I found myself honestly engaged in the two competing plotlines (even when the coincidences stretched the limits of believability). Martin Scorsese deserves his Oscar for direction not because this is his greatest film, but that he was able to take six lead actors (Jack, Leo, Matt, Alec, Marky Mark, and Martin (Sheen, not Lawrence)) and set each at the correct level. What could have been a contest of scenery chewing resulted in a truly successful macho movie for the ages.
Oscar Overlooked: United 93
This film deserves recognition for both its courage and sense of decency. This was a movie that no one wanted to see but did wonders for those who did. Taking the events of September 11th and placing them on film could (should) have been a disaster. All of us cynics expected the film to exude a repulsive mix of sentimentality and jingoism. The actual film is pitch perfect. Director Paul Greengrass’ cinema verite choices create a truly honest depiction of these infamous events. At one point the camera settles on a young soldier who found herself working that morning. While reporting to her superior she begins to break down. This one moment, with its utter lack of melodrama, hit me on a deeper level than anything I have seen on film in years. Greengrass had the courage to make this film, it is a shame that the academy didn’t have the courage to honor this achievement.
Oscar Nominee: The Departed
This movie worked. I found myself honestly engaged in the two competing plotlines (even when the coincidences stretched the limits of believability). Martin Scorsese deserves his Oscar for direction not because this is his greatest film, but that he was able to take six lead actors (Jack, Leo, Matt, Alec, Marky Mark, and Martin (Sheen, not Lawrence)) and set each at the correct level. What could have been a contest of scenery chewing resulted in a truly successful macho movie for the ages.
Oscar Overlooked: United 93
This film deserves recognition for both its courage and sense of decency. This was a movie that no one wanted to see but did wonders for those who did. Taking the events of September 11th and placing them on film could (should) have been a disaster. All of us cynics expected the film to exude a repulsive mix of sentimentality and jingoism. The actual film is pitch perfect. Director Paul Greengrass’ cinema verite choices create a truly honest depiction of these infamous events. At one point the camera settles on a young soldier who found herself working that morning. While reporting to her superior she begins to break down. This one moment, with its utter lack of melodrama, hit me on a deeper level than anything I have seen on film in years. Greengrass had the courage to make this film, it is a shame that the academy didn’t have the courage to honor this achievement.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Hollywood Goes to Africa (sort of)
Two of the films that have received Oscar nominations this season are set in Africa. Both Blood Diamond and The Last King of Scotland attempt to deal with aspects of the post-colonial era on the continent. While one of these films is far superior to the other, both illustrate a troubling trend seen when Hollywood tries to delve into Africa’s issues.
As a concept, Blood Diamond seems like a film worthy of attention. Solomon Vandy (played by Djimon Hounsou) is a fisherman who is torn from his family during Sierra Leone’s civil war. Vandy is forced to work in the diamond fields where he finds and hides the film’s titular gem. How Vandy will parlay his find into the reunion and security of his family becomes the most compelling plotline. Through this story the viewer learns about the atrocities being committed by warlords and European businessmen alike in Africa.
The fact that the lessons of this movie are delivered with the heaviest of Hollywood hands (complete with sweeping music and impassioned speechification) is only its minor flaw. The real trouble with Blood Diamond is that it does not stay focused on the Vandy character . Instead Danny Archer (Leonardo DiCaprio), an Afrikaner mercenary who assists Vandy in the recovery of the diamond, is given too much of the spotlight. In a film that is already attempting to seriously deal with issues as distressing as the inscription of child soldiers, the viewer is supposed to also become emotionally invested in the romance between Archer and an American reporter (Jennifer Connolly). This bogs the film down and makes it, at times, unwatchable.
As a film, The Last King of Scotland is much more successful. It is the story of Nicholas Garrigan (James McAvoy) a Scottish doctor who, through a series of events, becomes a close adviser to Idi Amin (Forest Whitaker), the man who ruled Uganda for the majority of the 1970’s. Unlike Blood Diamond, the film allows relationships between the characters to propel the narrative, not the issues the filmmaker wants to be discussed. This less didactic approach stirs more insight and interest in the viewer. At the end of Blood Diamond it is assumed that the film has taught you everything you need to know about the causes of turmoil in modern Africa (in fact the postscript tells you how you can go out and solve these problems as well). When The Last King of Scotland closes, there is a desire to go out and learn about Uganda and the dictator depicted in the film. Compelling performances by the two lead actors, beautiful art direction and costume design pull the film through several unbelievable plot points and an over reliance on arty dream sequences.
Both of these movies should be commended for taking on African issues. There is a sore lack of this subject matter in today’s popular culture. However, why must we be shepherded through these stories by white characters? It is really believed that moviegoers need to see a white face on the screen responding to these issues so that they can do the same? This maneuver keeps us one step removed from the most vital elements of the narrative, Africa and its people. At several points in Blood Diamond when important issues need to be discussed, Danny Archer and other white characters will literally walk into the foreground of a shot, leaving Solomon Vandy to stand silent and stoic in the background. This image illustrates a divide between people the film is surely attempting to break down.
These films do not need white characters to achieve their purposes, be they artistic or political. Instead of focusing on the relationship between Solomon Vandy and his forcibly estranged wife(a romance that would have been inherently engrossing) immense effort and screen time is dedicated to making us care about whether or not Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Connelly will get it on. Idi Amin had a far more terrifiying and facinating relationship with the people of Uganda than he did with this European advisor, why not make that the driving force of the movie? There is an African doctor in The Last King of Scotland who works alongside Dr. Garrigan. By the end of the film it becomes clear that by focusing on the African doctor instead of the European one even greater light would have been shed on the topic.
These films and others in recent years (The Constant Gardener comes to mind) show that the film industry is not quite ready to dedicate itself to stories that are completely and authentically African. Sadly this trepidation mirrors the level of commitment that many in the political arena have for the continent as well.
As a concept, Blood Diamond seems like a film worthy of attention. Solomon Vandy (played by Djimon Hounsou) is a fisherman who is torn from his family during Sierra Leone’s civil war. Vandy is forced to work in the diamond fields where he finds and hides the film’s titular gem. How Vandy will parlay his find into the reunion and security of his family becomes the most compelling plotline. Through this story the viewer learns about the atrocities being committed by warlords and European businessmen alike in Africa.
The fact that the lessons of this movie are delivered with the heaviest of Hollywood hands (complete with sweeping music and impassioned speechification) is only its minor flaw. The real trouble with Blood Diamond is that it does not stay focused on the Vandy character . Instead Danny Archer (Leonardo DiCaprio), an Afrikaner mercenary who assists Vandy in the recovery of the diamond, is given too much of the spotlight. In a film that is already attempting to seriously deal with issues as distressing as the inscription of child soldiers, the viewer is supposed to also become emotionally invested in the romance between Archer and an American reporter (Jennifer Connolly). This bogs the film down and makes it, at times, unwatchable.
As a film, The Last King of Scotland is much more successful. It is the story of Nicholas Garrigan (James McAvoy) a Scottish doctor who, through a series of events, becomes a close adviser to Idi Amin (Forest Whitaker), the man who ruled Uganda for the majority of the 1970’s. Unlike Blood Diamond, the film allows relationships between the characters to propel the narrative, not the issues the filmmaker wants to be discussed. This less didactic approach stirs more insight and interest in the viewer. At the end of Blood Diamond it is assumed that the film has taught you everything you need to know about the causes of turmoil in modern Africa (in fact the postscript tells you how you can go out and solve these problems as well). When The Last King of Scotland closes, there is a desire to go out and learn about Uganda and the dictator depicted in the film. Compelling performances by the two lead actors, beautiful art direction and costume design pull the film through several unbelievable plot points and an over reliance on arty dream sequences.
Both of these movies should be commended for taking on African issues. There is a sore lack of this subject matter in today’s popular culture. However, why must we be shepherded through these stories by white characters? It is really believed that moviegoers need to see a white face on the screen responding to these issues so that they can do the same? This maneuver keeps us one step removed from the most vital elements of the narrative, Africa and its people. At several points in Blood Diamond when important issues need to be discussed, Danny Archer and other white characters will literally walk into the foreground of a shot, leaving Solomon Vandy to stand silent and stoic in the background. This image illustrates a divide between people the film is surely attempting to break down.
These films do not need white characters to achieve their purposes, be they artistic or political. Instead of focusing on the relationship between Solomon Vandy and his forcibly estranged wife(a romance that would have been inherently engrossing) immense effort and screen time is dedicated to making us care about whether or not Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Connelly will get it on. Idi Amin had a far more terrifiying and facinating relationship with the people of Uganda than he did with this European advisor, why not make that the driving force of the movie? There is an African doctor in The Last King of Scotland who works alongside Dr. Garrigan. By the end of the film it becomes clear that by focusing on the African doctor instead of the European one even greater light would have been shed on the topic.
These films and others in recent years (The Constant Gardener comes to mind) show that the film industry is not quite ready to dedicate itself to stories that are completely and authentically African. Sadly this trepidation mirrors the level of commitment that many in the political arena have for the continent as well.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Video Store Lament
I have fond memories of my childhood video store. In the mid-80’s we used to borrow my grandparents VCR when they were out of town. This meant that Friday afternoon, on the way home from school, my dad and I would hit Video Town. Video Town was a wonderful place where a child could learn the difference between VHS and Beta Max in a nurturing environment. Each empty display box was meticulously placed on the shelf equidistant from her neighbors on both sides. There was even a classy area behind a silken curtain, no doubt a lounge or mini-day spa, but I never ventured there.
At that time the home movie was a wonder. Films that people hadn’t seen in years could be borrowed for a nominal fee and watched (and rewound and watched again) in the comfort of a private abode. I was able to watch Marx Brothers movies and Little Rascals shorts in a way that no previous generation could have imagined. Video Town recognized that they were providing a magical service and treated the task with the necessary respect.
For years, Americans were happy with their local video peddlers. Family owned operations each with their own particular character. Then, out of nowhere, came the chain video superstore. I remember when the first one of these bad boys came to our town, with the fanfare of a postwar victory parade. We were amazed at the evolution in the video store experience. Compared to Video Town this place was enormous with wall after wall of videos. The store was replete with glitzy signage that made the costumer feel like they were walking the red carpet. Actual copies of the video behind the empty display box let us know if the video was available for check out. The films were categorized in impressive ways. Any male of my generation can remember the “Wild Action” section, which was a euphemism for films with explosions and at least one boob. Our shabby construction paper Video Town membership cards were soon lost in the euphoria over these seemingly perfect video vendors.
But it didn’t take long for the chain stores to lose their luster. These stores refused to carry NC-17 or unrated material. Those of us who have seen the R-rated version of Showgirls know how a move like this can kill a film’s narrative structure. This was done in order to secure a family friendly image. It seems a bit hypocritical to refuse to stock Kids, Happiness, or Y Tu Mama Tambien when R-rated films like Gator Bait, Femalien, and Gator Bait 2 were readily available (in the Wild Action section to be sure).
Rumors abounded that these stores were going so far as to edit the content of the movies that they stocked. I can prove these rumors to be true. You remember that part in Species where the alien chick (technically a “femalien”) kisses that guy and then kills him by sending her crazy alien tongue through the back of his head? I don’t because the copy I watched had that scene cut out. Some corporate fool thought he was keeping me safe from damaging material. All he succeeded in doing was robbing me of a major element of my coming of age.
Things turned from bad to worse. It seems these superstores only waited until most of the independent stores went out of business before they really started to let themselves go. By the late 1990’s these video stores took on the aura of Soviet Bloc pension offices. Video clerks had gone from being nerdy and knowledgeable to utterly incapable. Upon inquiring about the availability of Fellini’s 8 ½, I was asked, “How do you spell that?” Gone was a respect for cinema. Gone was a basic understanding of alphabetizing. Gone was the magic of Video Town.
I know that there still are amazing video stores out there. If you frequent one or work(ed) at one, we’d like to hear about it. The Middlebrow Film Society would like to highlight the work of individuals who are preserving the dying breed that is the quality video store. You are, of course, welcome to share your favorite video store horror stories as well.
At that time the home movie was a wonder. Films that people hadn’t seen in years could be borrowed for a nominal fee and watched (and rewound and watched again) in the comfort of a private abode. I was able to watch Marx Brothers movies and Little Rascals shorts in a way that no previous generation could have imagined. Video Town recognized that they were providing a magical service and treated the task with the necessary respect.
For years, Americans were happy with their local video peddlers. Family owned operations each with their own particular character. Then, out of nowhere, came the chain video superstore. I remember when the first one of these bad boys came to our town, with the fanfare of a postwar victory parade. We were amazed at the evolution in the video store experience. Compared to Video Town this place was enormous with wall after wall of videos. The store was replete with glitzy signage that made the costumer feel like they were walking the red carpet. Actual copies of the video behind the empty display box let us know if the video was available for check out. The films were categorized in impressive ways. Any male of my generation can remember the “Wild Action” section, which was a euphemism for films with explosions and at least one boob. Our shabby construction paper Video Town membership cards were soon lost in the euphoria over these seemingly perfect video vendors.
But it didn’t take long for the chain stores to lose their luster. These stores refused to carry NC-17 or unrated material. Those of us who have seen the R-rated version of Showgirls know how a move like this can kill a film’s narrative structure. This was done in order to secure a family friendly image. It seems a bit hypocritical to refuse to stock Kids, Happiness, or Y Tu Mama Tambien when R-rated films like Gator Bait, Femalien, and Gator Bait 2 were readily available (in the Wild Action section to be sure).
Rumors abounded that these stores were going so far as to edit the content of the movies that they stocked. I can prove these rumors to be true. You remember that part in Species where the alien chick (technically a “femalien”) kisses that guy and then kills him by sending her crazy alien tongue through the back of his head? I don’t because the copy I watched had that scene cut out. Some corporate fool thought he was keeping me safe from damaging material. All he succeeded in doing was robbing me of a major element of my coming of age.
Things turned from bad to worse. It seems these superstores only waited until most of the independent stores went out of business before they really started to let themselves go. By the late 1990’s these video stores took on the aura of Soviet Bloc pension offices. Video clerks had gone from being nerdy and knowledgeable to utterly incapable. Upon inquiring about the availability of Fellini’s 8 ½, I was asked, “How do you spell that?” Gone was a respect for cinema. Gone was a basic understanding of alphabetizing. Gone was the magic of Video Town.
I know that there still are amazing video stores out there. If you frequent one or work(ed) at one, we’d like to hear about it. The Middlebrow Film Society would like to highlight the work of individuals who are preserving the dying breed that is the quality video store. You are, of course, welcome to share your favorite video store horror stories as well.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Mission Statement (draft #1)
Established on February 12th, 2007, the Middlebrow Film Society is a revelation of sorts. It is a place where movies will be discussed in a serious, but not ostentatious, manner. It is a place for those of us who understand the artistic and entertainment value that can thrive at the movies. Most importantly it is for those of us who feel the need to talk about film on a regular basis.
The Middlebrow Film Society is NOT:
1. A place for celebrity gossip. The Society does not care whose crotch is on fire.
2. A "Fan" page. Whether you are a Ringer, a Potter, or a Narnian, you must be a movie lover first. We will not be discussing who should direct The Hobbit or trashing the new Transformers. We will be discussing and critiquing movies of all sorts with at least a modicum of objectivity.
3. A place for film snobs. Both La Strada and Beerfest are up for discussion here.
4. A place for film slobs. If you don't have anything more to say about Little Children besides "Kate Winslet takes it off", perhaps there are other pages for you.
The Middlebrow Film Society will soon be the only cinema related page that matters. How quickly this staus is achieved is up to you.
The Society needs movie lovers like you to do the following:
1. Read the page. Often. Then reread it.
2. Comment on the posts.
3. Come up with reviews, articles, and ideas of your own and donate them to the society. Submissions can and should be sent to: middlebrowfilm@gmail.com
4. Tell your know-it-all friends/family members/MySpace stalkers to partake in steps 1-3 above.
We here at the Society will work quickly to have fresh content made available to you. You do the same.
The Middlebrow Film Society is NOT:
1. A place for celebrity gossip. The Society does not care whose crotch is on fire.
2. A "Fan" page. Whether you are a Ringer, a Potter, or a Narnian, you must be a movie lover first. We will not be discussing who should direct The Hobbit or trashing the new Transformers. We will be discussing and critiquing movies of all sorts with at least a modicum of objectivity.
3. A place for film snobs. Both La Strada and Beerfest are up for discussion here.
4. A place for film slobs. If you don't have anything more to say about Little Children besides "Kate Winslet takes it off", perhaps there are other pages for you.
The Middlebrow Film Society will soon be the only cinema related page that matters. How quickly this staus is achieved is up to you.
The Society needs movie lovers like you to do the following:
1. Read the page. Often. Then reread it.
2. Comment on the posts.
3. Come up with reviews, articles, and ideas of your own and donate them to the society. Submissions can and should be sent to: middlebrowfilm@gmail.com
4. Tell your know-it-all friends/family members/MySpace stalkers to partake in steps 1-3 above.
We here at the Society will work quickly to have fresh content made available to you. You do the same.
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