“W.” is the antithesis of what an Oliver Stone film usually feels like. Instead of relying on fiery, in-your-face exchanges that often lead to shocking story development, he presents an evenhanded, fairly by-the-book biopic of a simple man who’s clearly in over his head as the leader of the free world. The George W. Bush we’re introduced to is a reckless booze hound who bounces from job to job until one day finding Jesus and deciding to enter the realm of political persuasion, so it should go without saying that the narrative structure here is anything but linear. In all honesty, it feels more like a greatest hits collection thrown together in haste than a carefully plotted character study in the league of “Born on the Fourth of July” or “Nixon,” but I still found every minute to be fascinating enough to warrant a recommendation.
After a stellar 2007, Josh Brolin takes another step toward the A-list in the title role and creates a character that the audience almost feels sorry for at times due to his constant anxiety and inability to do anything his father approves of. His uncanny embodiment of the present day Bush is spot-on in every facet and the backdoor scenes involving Dick Cheney, Colin Powell, and Donald Rumsfeld are almost too topical to laugh at. The more decisions that Bush is faced with, the more passive and complacent he becomes, so his overconfident knights of the round table act as an invaluable safety net when it comes to getting the country out of tough situations. I don’t know about you, but I find a president with that kind of secrecy and indecision to be completely ill-equipped to have their finger on the button.
The strength of this film is undoubtedly in the casting, because Richard Dreyfuss (especially), James Cromwell, Elizabeth Banks, Toby Jones, and Jeffrey Wright are all indispensable in bringing Stone’s vision to life and due their best to keep the action afloat long enough for the viewer to get something out of it. While it appears that Stone went out of his way to highlight Bush’s “daddy issues,” some of the confrontation was just too hard to believe since I can’t really see Bush Sr. asking his son if he wants an ass whooping. Then again, the order of events doesn’t really matter, because most Americans already have a firm impression of the man and nothing this movie drums up is going to change that.
- *** out of 4
For those hoping that “Quarantine” would be an unpredictably petrifying blend of “Cloverfield” and “28 Days Later,” I regret to inform you that it doesn’t even come close to that type of efficient storytelling. The trepidation is minimal, the characters are hollow, and the first fifteen minutes could’ve been trimmed without detracting from the film’s overall value. Since horror films tend to live and die by how eerie the mood is, this one kicks the bucket rather quickly as the picture is too muffled and frenetic to experience anything greater than a transitory chill when one of the infected inhabitants finally comes into focus.
I will give kudos to Jennifer Carpenter for giving the most chaotically overstated performance in a horror film since Ronee Blakley in Wes Craven’s classic “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” but otherwise nothing that original happens to justify any further discussion.
- ** out of 4
I’m still trying to figure out why the Coen Brothers’ latest oddball concoction “Burn After Reading” is so inexplicably hilarious, but I don’t think words can fully describe just how eccentric this film is. I hesitate even calling it a film due to the lack of any legitimate purpose and would still like to know how premier talent such as Clooney, Pitt, McDormand, Swinton, and Malkovich even signed on to this cinematic folly. It’s basically an intelligent, high-concept spy jaunt without, you know, the intelligent, high-concept maneuvering usually present in films of this genre. These people are ignorant dolts who are so wrapped up in their own little world that they don’t even realize the triviality of the pseudo-espionage they’re supposedly engaged in.
Let’s get this straight: Malkovich’s character is married to Swinton, who in turn is having an affair with Clooney, who in turn is having an affair with McDormand? Sounds great doesn’t it? Personally, I could care less about the frivolity of the plot, because the actors are so spectacular at indulging in the insanity. Brad Pitt steals the show as moronic personal trainer Chad Feldheimer and injects the film with just the right amount of playful absurdity to save it from being a total disaster. While it’s certainly an acquired taste, I urge you to broaden your scope and revel in the notion of the Hollywood elite taking ninety minutes to act up a storm of epically stupid proportion.
- *** out of 4
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
No End in Sight, Jesus Camp, Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, and Lakeview Terrace
“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
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
Friday, October 3, 2008
Heroes...?
For those still hanging on, "Heroes" has made its yearly return to network television clearly going out on a limb to recapture the attention of everyone from Buffalo to Wasilla (How could I resist?). The premiere was billed as a 2-hour extravaganza of epic proportion, but proved to be nothing more than a cry of shameless desperation from a once-ambitious show that has, in my opinion, been traveling down the artistic toilet since the finale of season one.
Sure, they've shown flashes of genius since, but nothing to really excite me enough to think that last year was only a minor gaffe.
I understand that it's difficult to maneuver around a strike-shortened chapter and even forgive them for spending a preposterous amount of time following Hiro around the monotonous landscape of Medieval Japan. What I can't get past is the fact that every week I'm forced to maintain the slightest morsel of optimism (mostly unwarranted) for a show that used to command my interest with very little effort.
The reason for this is simple: Too many characters and not enough time to justify their presence.
Here's the way I see it -
Hiro and Ando - What once served as comic relief has now become painful stupidity. Their desire to save the world is being undone by one bonehead decision after another and I find their naivete extremely hard to buy into considering what they've gone through in previous episodes.
Parkman - I could go on forever about how his storyline is contributing the show's sluggish death march, but is it really worth it? He used to be one of the characters you could count on and has now been relegated to a 2008 version of "Lawrence of Arabia" (Wandering around the desert?).
HRG and Sylar - Their pairing is unlikely to say the least, but I'm hoping they at least provide something to reward me for my patience with Kring's creative stalemate. The Petrelli Family - TBD
Maya and Mohinder - For those who read my blog last year, you'll undoubtedly know how I deemed Maya and Alejandro to be completely redundant to the plot and I still support that claim.
As for our favorite dim-witted geneticist, I think he needs to go ASAP. For someone so knowledgeable about science, he seems to be pretty inept at approaching a problem with any sense or objectivity and injecting himself with the serum further solidfied my assertion that he's no Jeff Goldblum (See David Cronenberg's 'The Fly").
Are there other characters to discuss?
Sure, but I just don't see the point of exhausting so much hate for a show that doesn't seem to get the message.
Sure, they've shown flashes of genius since, but nothing to really excite me enough to think that last year was only a minor gaffe.
I understand that it's difficult to maneuver around a strike-shortened chapter and even forgive them for spending a preposterous amount of time following Hiro around the monotonous landscape of Medieval Japan. What I can't get past is the fact that every week I'm forced to maintain the slightest morsel of optimism (mostly unwarranted) for a show that used to command my interest with very little effort.
The reason for this is simple: Too many characters and not enough time to justify their presence.
Here's the way I see it -
Hiro and Ando - What once served as comic relief has now become painful stupidity. Their desire to save the world is being undone by one bonehead decision after another and I find their naivete extremely hard to buy into considering what they've gone through in previous episodes.
Parkman - I could go on forever about how his storyline is contributing the show's sluggish death march, but is it really worth it? He used to be one of the characters you could count on and has now been relegated to a 2008 version of "Lawrence of Arabia" (Wandering around the desert?).
HRG and Sylar - Their pairing is unlikely to say the least, but I'm hoping they at least provide something to reward me for my patience with Kring's creative stalemate. The Petrelli Family - TBD
Maya and Mohinder - For those who read my blog last year, you'll undoubtedly know how I deemed Maya and Alejandro to be completely redundant to the plot and I still support that claim.
As for our favorite dim-witted geneticist, I think he needs to go ASAP. For someone so knowledgeable about science, he seems to be pretty inept at approaching a problem with any sense or objectivity and injecting himself with the serum further solidfied my assertion that he's no Jeff Goldblum (See David Cronenberg's 'The Fly").
Are there other characters to discuss?
Sure, but I just don't see the point of exhausting so much hate for a show that doesn't seem to get the message.
2008 MLB Playoffs
AL - Red Sox - Is Beckett healthy? Can Daisuke keep the walks down? Will Lowell be a factor?They’re all valid questions, but history indicates that they'll gut it out and be just fine. Besides, Pedroia and Ellsbury are more than capable of taking over if necessary.
Angels - Every year the expectations are high and every year they respond with a lackluster early exit, so I’m not exactly giddy this time around. On paper, Teixeira, Hunter, and Vlad the Impaler should be unstoppable, but something tells me that the old adage about good pitching always stifling good hitting will ultimately ring true once again.
Sox in 4 (As much as it pains me to admit)
Rays - Are they for real or have they simply performed beyond their means? Whatever the reason, they won the tightest division in baseball despite injuries to Crawford and Longoria, so consider me sold on their ability to win when it counts. They owned Boston down the stretch and have two legitimate number ones in Shields and Kazmir, which gives them a significant advantage in a short series.
White Sox - Sure, it would be great to see Griffey Jr. finally get his ring and Ozzie win a second, but I just don’t see it happening. Their lineup doesn’t scare anyone outside of Quentin (who’s currently not playing) or Dye and the rotation isn’t nearly at the same level as the 2005 championship squad.
Rays in 4
NL - Dodgers - The additions of Joe Torre and Manny Ramirez certainly signify a team hell-bent on winning it all, but can anyone outside of Manny produce in the clutch? If they win, it will be due to a stellar combination of Lowe, Billingsley, and Saito holding it all together.
Cubs - Clearly, they were the best team during the regular season and that rotation is, in my opinion, the most well-rounded of any postseason team, but is 2008 really the year that the supposed curse comes to an end? Sadly, I think the woes will continue, because Ramirez and Lee need help if they’re seriously going to challenge anyone. I can already hear people shouting “What about Soriano?” As a diehard Yankee fan, I’ve sat through one too many 4 or 5 k efforts to know that he can’t be trusted when the game is on the line.
Dodgers in 4
Phillies - Howard, Utley, Burrell, Rollins, Hamels, Myers, Lidge, and Manuel. Any team with this much firepower has no excuse for not bringing the pennant home, so for their sake, they’d better come through.
Brewers - Sabathia has been a one-man wrecking crew since the deadline, but how much is enough? How many starts on short rest can be endured before things head South? My main concern is whether or not the bullpen has anything left after stumbling into October, but if Gagne can somehow be relevant again, they may have a fighting chance.
Phillies in 4
Angels - Every year the expectations are high and every year they respond with a lackluster early exit, so I’m not exactly giddy this time around. On paper, Teixeira, Hunter, and Vlad the Impaler should be unstoppable, but something tells me that the old adage about good pitching always stifling good hitting will ultimately ring true once again.
Sox in 4 (As much as it pains me to admit)
Rays - Are they for real or have they simply performed beyond their means? Whatever the reason, they won the tightest division in baseball despite injuries to Crawford and Longoria, so consider me sold on their ability to win when it counts. They owned Boston down the stretch and have two legitimate number ones in Shields and Kazmir, which gives them a significant advantage in a short series.
White Sox - Sure, it would be great to see Griffey Jr. finally get his ring and Ozzie win a second, but I just don’t see it happening. Their lineup doesn’t scare anyone outside of Quentin (who’s currently not playing) or Dye and the rotation isn’t nearly at the same level as the 2005 championship squad.
Rays in 4
NL - Dodgers - The additions of Joe Torre and Manny Ramirez certainly signify a team hell-bent on winning it all, but can anyone outside of Manny produce in the clutch? If they win, it will be due to a stellar combination of Lowe, Billingsley, and Saito holding it all together.
Cubs - Clearly, they were the best team during the regular season and that rotation is, in my opinion, the most well-rounded of any postseason team, but is 2008 really the year that the supposed curse comes to an end? Sadly, I think the woes will continue, because Ramirez and Lee need help if they’re seriously going to challenge anyone. I can already hear people shouting “What about Soriano?” As a diehard Yankee fan, I’ve sat through one too many 4 or 5 k efforts to know that he can’t be trusted when the game is on the line.
Dodgers in 4
Phillies - Howard, Utley, Burrell, Rollins, Hamels, Myers, Lidge, and Manuel. Any team with this much firepower has no excuse for not bringing the pennant home, so for their sake, they’d better come through.
Brewers - Sabathia has been a one-man wrecking crew since the deadline, but how much is enough? How many starts on short rest can be endured before things head South? My main concern is whether or not the bullpen has anything left after stumbling into October, but if Gagne can somehow be relevant again, they may have a fighting chance.
Phillies in 4
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
"Mirrors," "Tropic Thunder," "Red," "In Bruges," and "Righteous Kill"
It took a lot for me to push aside my electric disdain for films such as “High Tension” and “The Hills Have Eyes” (2006), but I walked into Alexandre Aja’s latest crackpot endeavor “Mirrors” with a sense of optimism not usually reserved for the horror genre. I thought that the presence of the “Master of Psychotic Tension” himself Kiefer Sutherland would at least bring a degree of reputable star power that had been missing from Aja’s previous incoherent schlock and, I have to say, the results aren’t half bad.
Sure, the running time could’ve been abridged and the blood flowed as freely as the Nile, but the creepy narrative actually amounts to much more than just a gratuitous assault on the eyes. Sutherland’s tortured detective exhibits poignant emotional profundity during his familial interaction and as he descends into irrepressible madness, we actually start to believe that mirrors can play a role in altering someone’s perceived state of reality.
Since it’s essentially a one-man show, the film tends to drag a bit when Sutherland isn’t on screen and even when he is, the possibilities for evolution are limited until the Shyamalan-esque twist of fate comes along to make you question everything you’ve just spent one-hundred minutes watching. It might not have the most ground-breaking title in the universe, but compared to some of 2008’s other suspense offerings, I’d say it falls somewhere in the middle. And for Aja, that’s a momentous upgrade.
- ** ½ out of 4
Ben Stiller’s long-awaited satirical smorgasbord of war cinema “Tropic Thunder” is everything I hoped it would be. The acting is exceptional, the action is hyperbolized, and the music contains just enough Vietnam homage to be taken seriously as an enlightened addition to the genre. Did I mention it’s also one of the funniest studio comedies of the decade and blatantly pushes the envelope more than any Will Ferrell comedy could ever dream of? Well, under the brilliant control of Stiller, Black, and Downey Jr. it strikes the right note every time and provides a perfect night out at the movies.
- *** ½ out of 4
I might be in the minority on this one, but I think that Brian Cox’s stoically intimidating performance in “Red” is one of the finest thespian undertakings of 2008 thus far. His face is weathered, his voice is gravelly, and the only thing he loves more than his dog is the tantalizing possibility of dispensing justice to a spoiled, spineless troublemaker who thought he was above the law. When his dog is mercilessly eliminated as part of a robbery, he goes out of his way to maintain a sense of Christ-like objectivity, but the shallow pomposity of the assailants eventually leads him to settle things in true Bronson-esque fashion.
Now, if you’re thinking that the story is just another brute retribution saga, I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken. The deeply rooted themes of honor and restitution resonate heavily throughout Cox’s solo campaign for justice and are much more plausible than the slick invincibility made famous during the later half of Steven Seagal’s career. He doesn’t have a magical bag of tricks to extract from, so he approaches the conflict just like any over-zealous, pro-gun good ol’ boy would. The only difference is that for Cox’s character, emptying the clip wouldn’t be the first option.
- **** out of 4
Martin McDonagh’s “In Bruges” plays like a beautifully operatic Shakespearean tragedy in which the laughs come early and often, but are later supplanted by a sinister climax that forces the “protagonists” to come face to face with their ill-favored life decisions. I put the word “protagonists” in quotes, because when you consider the fact that the main characters are cold, calculating assassins, somehow the concept of heroism doesn’t exactly seem appropriate. That’s not to say that they don’t have feelings. I just think they’re not the type of crowd that assigns a high value to sensitivity training and would throw someone out a window if only for the hedonistic purpose of watching them fall to their death.
Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson capture the bruising camaraderie of pub life in a wickedly comical manner as two hit men sent to Belgium on vacation and both deliver career-best work in the process. Their initial reactions to being exiled to what Farrell’s character refers to as a “shithole” are priceless and provide much of the boredom-fueled hi-jinx that occurs in the film’s blistering first half. Even with their spectacular performances, the real star of the show becomes the glorious city of Bruges. It possesses a captivating “old country” feel that we don’t usually see in mainstream pictures and the more we see of it, the more we realize that it’s far from being considered the doldrums of Europe.
- **** out of 4
Am I the only one who had a feeling that “Righteous Kill” would be less than impressive? I sure hope not, but I can see how swarms of moviegoers can be duped into believing that De Niro and Pacino would be able to recapture the same high wire explosiveness they so effortlessly toyed with in Michael Mann’s masterpiece “Heat.” I mean, they waited thirteen years before deciding to pair up again, so the prolonged anticipation must’ve been worth it right?
If I said yes, I’d be lying and if I said no, that wouldn’t be entirely accurate either. Actually, I’m still trying to fathom how they agreed that a third-rate buddy cop flick with a plot better suited for Saturday afternoon television would be the best way the work off each other. Couldn’t they have chosen something that wasn’t practically begging the audience to solve it within the first ten minutes? I suppose they thought the performances would be enough to overcome the idiotic denouement and, to a degree, they do just that.
De Niro is strong as usual and Pacino looks to be having a wonderful time cranking out one dirty joke after another, but we all know they’re slumming it. Personally, I find it distressing to think that Travis Bickle and Frank Serpico are so far in the past, because I often wonder if they’ll be able to turn in something truly amazing ever again.
For people inclined to use “Heat” as a litmus test, might I say that Jon Avnet is nowhere near the director than Mann is and if he ever played poker, he’d lose pretty quick, because he opts to put all of his cards on the table before the betting has even begun. If you’re still trying to piece together the poker analogy, I’ll make it easier by saying that you shouldn’t expect anything close to what happened in 1995.
- ** out of 4
Sure, the running time could’ve been abridged and the blood flowed as freely as the Nile, but the creepy narrative actually amounts to much more than just a gratuitous assault on the eyes. Sutherland’s tortured detective exhibits poignant emotional profundity during his familial interaction and as he descends into irrepressible madness, we actually start to believe that mirrors can play a role in altering someone’s perceived state of reality.
Since it’s essentially a one-man show, the film tends to drag a bit when Sutherland isn’t on screen and even when he is, the possibilities for evolution are limited until the Shyamalan-esque twist of fate comes along to make you question everything you’ve just spent one-hundred minutes watching. It might not have the most ground-breaking title in the universe, but compared to some of 2008’s other suspense offerings, I’d say it falls somewhere in the middle. And for Aja, that’s a momentous upgrade.
- ** ½ out of 4
Ben Stiller’s long-awaited satirical smorgasbord of war cinema “Tropic Thunder” is everything I hoped it would be. The acting is exceptional, the action is hyperbolized, and the music contains just enough Vietnam homage to be taken seriously as an enlightened addition to the genre. Did I mention it’s also one of the funniest studio comedies of the decade and blatantly pushes the envelope more than any Will Ferrell comedy could ever dream of? Well, under the brilliant control of Stiller, Black, and Downey Jr. it strikes the right note every time and provides a perfect night out at the movies.
- *** ½ out of 4
I might be in the minority on this one, but I think that Brian Cox’s stoically intimidating performance in “Red” is one of the finest thespian undertakings of 2008 thus far. His face is weathered, his voice is gravelly, and the only thing he loves more than his dog is the tantalizing possibility of dispensing justice to a spoiled, spineless troublemaker who thought he was above the law. When his dog is mercilessly eliminated as part of a robbery, he goes out of his way to maintain a sense of Christ-like objectivity, but the shallow pomposity of the assailants eventually leads him to settle things in true Bronson-esque fashion.
Now, if you’re thinking that the story is just another brute retribution saga, I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken. The deeply rooted themes of honor and restitution resonate heavily throughout Cox’s solo campaign for justice and are much more plausible than the slick invincibility made famous during the later half of Steven Seagal’s career. He doesn’t have a magical bag of tricks to extract from, so he approaches the conflict just like any over-zealous, pro-gun good ol’ boy would. The only difference is that for Cox’s character, emptying the clip wouldn’t be the first option.
- **** out of 4
Martin McDonagh’s “In Bruges” plays like a beautifully operatic Shakespearean tragedy in which the laughs come early and often, but are later supplanted by a sinister climax that forces the “protagonists” to come face to face with their ill-favored life decisions. I put the word “protagonists” in quotes, because when you consider the fact that the main characters are cold, calculating assassins, somehow the concept of heroism doesn’t exactly seem appropriate. That’s not to say that they don’t have feelings. I just think they’re not the type of crowd that assigns a high value to sensitivity training and would throw someone out a window if only for the hedonistic purpose of watching them fall to their death.
Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson capture the bruising camaraderie of pub life in a wickedly comical manner as two hit men sent to Belgium on vacation and both deliver career-best work in the process. Their initial reactions to being exiled to what Farrell’s character refers to as a “shithole” are priceless and provide much of the boredom-fueled hi-jinx that occurs in the film’s blistering first half. Even with their spectacular performances, the real star of the show becomes the glorious city of Bruges. It possesses a captivating “old country” feel that we don’t usually see in mainstream pictures and the more we see of it, the more we realize that it’s far from being considered the doldrums of Europe.
- **** out of 4
Am I the only one who had a feeling that “Righteous Kill” would be less than impressive? I sure hope not, but I can see how swarms of moviegoers can be duped into believing that De Niro and Pacino would be able to recapture the same high wire explosiveness they so effortlessly toyed with in Michael Mann’s masterpiece “Heat.” I mean, they waited thirteen years before deciding to pair up again, so the prolonged anticipation must’ve been worth it right?
If I said yes, I’d be lying and if I said no, that wouldn’t be entirely accurate either. Actually, I’m still trying to fathom how they agreed that a third-rate buddy cop flick with a plot better suited for Saturday afternoon television would be the best way the work off each other. Couldn’t they have chosen something that wasn’t practically begging the audience to solve it within the first ten minutes? I suppose they thought the performances would be enough to overcome the idiotic denouement and, to a degree, they do just that.
De Niro is strong as usual and Pacino looks to be having a wonderful time cranking out one dirty joke after another, but we all know they’re slumming it. Personally, I find it distressing to think that Travis Bickle and Frank Serpico are so far in the past, because I often wonder if they’ll be able to turn in something truly amazing ever again.
For people inclined to use “Heat” as a litmus test, might I say that Jon Avnet is nowhere near the director than Mann is and if he ever played poker, he’d lose pretty quick, because he opts to put all of his cards on the table before the betting has even begun. If you’re still trying to piece together the poker analogy, I’ll make it easier by saying that you shouldn’t expect anything close to what happened in 1995.
- ** out of 4
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Step Brothers
I think it’s safe to say that I’m an ardent fan of just about everything Will Ferrell has been a part of over the last ten years or so (“A Night at the Roxbury” and “Semi-Pro” not included), but his latest potty-mouthed solecism “Step Brothers” didn’t quite rattle my rib cage the same way a modern cult classic like “Anchorman” always does.
It’s a coarse, cacophonous basket case of a movie that revels in the kind of mean-spirited impudence I would expect from a comedy troupe that is yet to be acquainted with a Judd Apatow production. In Apatow’s work, the characters can say or do things that leave the audience in a state of hilarious disgust, but more often than not they prove to be all bark and no bite.
Here, that couldn’t be further from the truth. These people hate each other with all their heart and soul and are willing to shatter familial relationships if it leads to dominance over their fellow wayward couch potatoes. I didn’t think tossing your own father down a flight of stairs constituted humor, but apparently writer/director Adam McKay finds that sort of warped giddiness to be a critical part of any comedic offering.
In fact, much of what goes on in this film falls into that warped category, because the entire execution feels like something they threw together at the last minute and includes a bunch of gross-out moments that must’ve sounded funny in the planning stages.
Ferrell plays Brennan Huff, a 40-year-old slacker who still lives at home with his mother (Mary Steenburgen) and has no aspirations outside of eating junk food or practicing karate in his garage. When he discovers that his mother is getting married and that he’ll have to share a room with another adult loafer played by John C. Reilly, his life couldn’t be more disrupted. He forges a volatile relationship with his new step brother Dale and most of his energy is spent trying to conjure up different ways to torture him.
Here is where I lost touch with the film, because it wants us to believe that these two oafs actually become best friends just as their parents’ romantic bond is rapidly unraveling. Things get quite raunchy and idiotic in the final act, so don’t get too excited about the idea of Ferrell and Reilly in the same project.
Sure, they have some humorous gags along the way, but Brennan’s biological brother played by Adam Scott is actually the funniest person on screen. The scene in which he leads his family through a demented “Sweet Child O’ Mine” sing-along definitely takes the top prize in my book.
Fans of Ferrell will certainly find some amusement in his antics, but I see it as just another wasted opportunity that could’ve been something special had they not opted for schoolyard sight gags. If you like your comedy without all the tedious adolescent jabber, may I suggest “Tropic Thunder” for a much more satirically enlightening experience.
- ** out of 4
It’s a coarse, cacophonous basket case of a movie that revels in the kind of mean-spirited impudence I would expect from a comedy troupe that is yet to be acquainted with a Judd Apatow production. In Apatow’s work, the characters can say or do things that leave the audience in a state of hilarious disgust, but more often than not they prove to be all bark and no bite.
Here, that couldn’t be further from the truth. These people hate each other with all their heart and soul and are willing to shatter familial relationships if it leads to dominance over their fellow wayward couch potatoes. I didn’t think tossing your own father down a flight of stairs constituted humor, but apparently writer/director Adam McKay finds that sort of warped giddiness to be a critical part of any comedic offering.
In fact, much of what goes on in this film falls into that warped category, because the entire execution feels like something they threw together at the last minute and includes a bunch of gross-out moments that must’ve sounded funny in the planning stages.
Ferrell plays Brennan Huff, a 40-year-old slacker who still lives at home with his mother (Mary Steenburgen) and has no aspirations outside of eating junk food or practicing karate in his garage. When he discovers that his mother is getting married and that he’ll have to share a room with another adult loafer played by John C. Reilly, his life couldn’t be more disrupted. He forges a volatile relationship with his new step brother Dale and most of his energy is spent trying to conjure up different ways to torture him.
Here is where I lost touch with the film, because it wants us to believe that these two oafs actually become best friends just as their parents’ romantic bond is rapidly unraveling. Things get quite raunchy and idiotic in the final act, so don’t get too excited about the idea of Ferrell and Reilly in the same project.
Sure, they have some humorous gags along the way, but Brennan’s biological brother played by Adam Scott is actually the funniest person on screen. The scene in which he leads his family through a demented “Sweet Child O’ Mine” sing-along definitely takes the top prize in my book.
Fans of Ferrell will certainly find some amusement in his antics, but I see it as just another wasted opportunity that could’ve been something special had they not opted for schoolyard sight gags. If you like your comedy without all the tedious adolescent jabber, may I suggest “Tropic Thunder” for a much more satirically enlightening experience.
- ** out of 4
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