Gavin O’Connor tries hard to infuse his latest effort “Pride and Glory” with the kind of ethically challenged street beat usually expected from stark police procedurals, but for the life of me, I just couldn’t get excited about anything he brings to the table. Coming on the heels of last year’s vastly superior “We Own the Night,” this film features an almost identical plot minus any authentic suspense or reason to spend two-plus hours on a soulless piece of wannabe commercial nihilism. The talents of Edward Norton, Jon Voight, and Noah Emmerich are much too intricate to be wasted in such appalling fashion, so don’t be fooled if the trailer makes it out to be a hard-boiled cop drama featuring the stars of “Fight Club” and “Midnight Cowboy.”
If you still find yourself maintaining the slightest morsel of curiosity, might I provide you with a tip on how to avoid what the Gin Blossoms refer to as a “new miserable experience.” Think about the most insufferable professorial diatribe you’ve ever had to endure and how you found yourself locked into a staring contest with the minute hand only to find that there’s still thirty minutes left before freedom can be achieved. Yes, I think that pretty much covers it.
- ** out of 4
Picture the most excruciatingly overcooked wedding you’ve ever attended and multiply it by a thousand, because only then will you have any semblance of the demonstrative hodgepodge that is “Rachel Getting Married.” In his finest film since 1991’s Academy Award juggernaut “The Silence of the Lambs,” director Jonathan Demme pulls a Spinal Tap by turning the subversive animosity up to eleven and letting his cast create a blowout so extravagant that I couldn’t help but wonder if he was testing the audience’s tolerance for awkward familial strife.
Seriously, there were moments where I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, squirm, or simply be thankful that I never had to experience an event quite like this one. Then again, everything I just described is what makes it one of the best films of the year, which in 2008, is a phrase I haven’t been able to use nearly as often as I like.
Anne Hathaway gives a performance so mannered and in tune with the misery of real-life addiction that it’s clear she’s more than just a pretty face reserved for the monotony of rom-com clockwork. As Kym, she’s bare, vulnerable, uncompromising, and always capable of ruining an evening with one spasmodic slip of the tongue. The tragedy of her personal life dictates how she’s treated by the rest of the family, so allowing her a weekend pass from rehab to attend the wedding of a sister who despises her every move carries with it the possibility of relationships being severed beyond repair. What really makes this film tick is Hathaway and Rosemarie DeWitt constantly one-upping each other in terms of infantile eruptions aimed at getting the spotlight put back on them, so be prepared for a searing sibling rivalry that Dr. Phil can only dream about exacerbating on national television.
Sure, Rachel does end up getting married and Kym certainly commits her share of indiscretions along the way, but unlike most films, the invitation for the happy ending was lost in the mail. Instead, the characters are at a crossroads, left to trudge through the emotional wreckage wondering whether or not the good times will ever be heard from again. That’s how life goes. You choose a path, encounter adversity, and, if religious, pray that better days are coming to make the struggle seem like a necessary hurdle on the road to success and personal fulfillment. For Kym, the fact that her family has all but disowned her means that those hurdles appear that much higher and more glaringly out of reach.
- **** out of 4
