“No End in Sight” is without a doubt the finest and most intellectually stimulating portrait of the Iraq War yet to be painted by the American media. It’s a two-hour barrage of hard line, no-frills journalism designed to let the public in on just how badly the government botched their attempt to bring democracy to a land that wasn’t quite ready for such an abundant responsibility. Say what you will about WMDs or Saddam Hussein’s indefensible reign of terror, but had any other organization orchestrated that kind of feeble, half-assed plan of attack, they would’ve been collecting unemployment faster than it takes to fire an AK-47.
Whether it’s passively sitting back and allowing the looting to continue or deciding to disband the Iraqi army, the majority of top-level decision making comes off as poor beyond belief as director Charles Ferguson allows various insiders to offer their own take on why the entire undertaking can be seen as a colossal misfire.
Of course, the fact that L. Paul Bremer and Paul Wolfowitz conveniently declined to partake in the film means that these issues are still unresolved and will probably remain so until somebody decides to step up and accept accountability for the last five years of havoc. I think this film should be required viewing for every American citizen regardless of partisan affiliation, because only then will people be able to decide for themselves what it is we’re really fighting for.
- **** out of 4
Forget Michael Myers. If I want to see what true indescribable horror is made of, I’ll look no further than Becky Fischer and the Kids on Fire Bible Camp. Seriously, the 2006 documentary “Jesus Camp” just might be the scariest film I’ve ever seen due to its eternally troublesome portrayal of young children training to be soldiers in God’s army. I hate to say it, but the more I watched, the more I started to think that the line between what the Evangelicals are doing and what the Islamic Fundamentalists are up to isn’t all that opaque. The only difference is that instead of giving children weapons, they’re arming them with an enormously warped worldview and indoctrinating them to believe that being saved is the only authentic way to live a meaningful existence.
I had an issue with that immediately, because for a religion that’s supposed to be founded upon tolerance, they appear to fall victim to another distressing case of “Do as I say, not as I do.” I’m sorry, but when a 13-year-old says that he was saved at five (he realized that he wanted more out of life) and admits to feeling yucky around people who don’t share his belief system, something is clearly wrong with the way these kids are being raised. The only thing worse than listening to that ludicrous drivel is witnessing them in such a heightened state of submission that they’re literally on the floor crying and convulsing, which once again illustrates how these children are little more than pawns in the Evangelical mission to gain control over the US political system.
Sure, it can be argued that the audience is only given a fraction of what really happens at this camp, but the absence of a narrator leaves the viewer with nothing to judge except the frightening philosophy being touted on screen. If the members are unhappy with their portrayal, they have no one to blame but themselves, because the results are at once honest, moving, and daunting in a way that few other documentaries are. In case you’re still deciding whether or not to see this film, might I finish with a quote from disgraced preacher Ted Haggard as to the strength of the movement: “If the evangelicals vote, they determine the election.” Scared yet?
- **** out of 4
In one of my favorite episodes of “The Wonder Years,” Kevin and his friends set out on an all-night journey in search of a secret concert being put on by The Rolling Stones and end up piling on more disappointment than a father forcing his kid to leave a sporting event before the outcome has been decided. I mention this, because the plot of “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist” is essentially the same story except that the teens are depressed Emo hipsters and the band is Where’s Fluffy. That said, I enjoyed seeing the touching relationship at the center unfold and found much of the humor to be more unpretentiously flowing than the snaky comments being dished out in last year’s overrated sensation “Juno.”
Michael Cera (again) and Kat Dennings make an endearing pair of unlikely soul mates, but the passion is almost too bland for comfort due to their passive approach to everything that comes their way. I believed they wanted to be together and would’ve appreciated a little more enthusiasm from their end to keep me interested. Luckily, the pulse of the movie manifests itself in the form of Ari Graynor, who has more spontaneous personality than Cera and Dennings combined and makes the whole evening worth the price of admission.
Although she’s drunk through most of the film, she uses her condition to ingenious comedic effect and is given the best dialogue present in Lorene Scafaria’s script. Seeing as how the last time I saw her was as an emotionally hardened Karla Homolka type on SVU, the change of pace is a pleasant surprise indeed.
As for the rest of the film, the music wasn’t to my taste and I’m still trying to figure out how recent high school graduates can cavort around the clubs of NYC without ever being asked for identification. Then again, the creative license here requires that lack of supervision to advance the proceedings, so I guess I have to swallow my logic and admit that it’s actually a pretty entertaining night out on the town.
- *** out of 4
For those of you out there who recall 2006’s fluffy, Oprah-endorsed dramedy “Something New,” I’d like to inform you right now that Neil LaBute’s scathing new project “Lakeview Terrace” resembles nothing of the sort. It’s a nail-biting, sensationalized potboiler of a movie that constantly urges you to question your own attitudes about race and the possibility of the tension ever being fully relieved. What begins as a sunny, Wisteria Lane-esque tale of newlywed optimism quickly turns into a minaciously psychopathic mind game designed to make the audience feel as ill at ease as possible. As the Monty Python faithful would say, “And now for something completely different!”
Just when I thought Samuel L. Jackson had embarked on a painful descent into dubious B-movie obscurity (“SoaP,” “Home of the Brave,” and “Jumper“ come to mind), he comes out with a performance chock full of so much spite and venomous vivacity that I almost have to think he made 2005’s “The Man” simply for the paycheck. The way he embodies the fickle malevolence of LAPD officer Abel Turner is enough to make anyone squirm, so if you’re at all offended by even the slightest racial affront, this probably isn’t how you want to spend your hard-earned free time. Think of it as a gloomy hybrid of “Neighbors” and “Arlington Road” without all the madcap antics thrown in to keep things somewhat lighthearted.
Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington also give strong performances as the terrorized couple trying to start their life together, but this is Jackson’s movie from beginning to end. His various interactions with Wilson make for stellar suspense and some of LaBute’s dialogue is almost daring you not to laugh hysterically at the absurdity of it all. Many critics will say that the ending was over-the-top and predictable, but how else was a story like this going to play out? Had the ending been any different, I would’ve complained that LaBute was inconsistent with everything he had orchestrated before hand, so in that sense, the film more than holds up its end of the bargain.
- *** ½ out of 4
