Saturday, July 27, 2002

Austin Powers in Goldmember (IMDB) (Netflix)
Mike Myers has outdone himself, which is a mixed blessing. In addition to reprising Austin Powers, Dr. Evil and Fat Bastard, he surpasses Peter Seller's Dr. Strangelove trifecta by playing Goldmember, one of Myers's weakest characters. A very fun opening sequence starts this second sequel with a bang, providing big-name cameos from half of the entertainment industry. After that, the rest of the story is just a setup for the onslaught of jokes, which are focused mostly on the middle ground -- of the human body, front and back -- and play directly to the squealing teenage girls and snickering teenage boys in the audience. However, the sheer tonnage of gags wears down your defenses, and you end up chuckling and chiding yourself at the same time.

The guiltiest of legal pleasures, but not nearly the best.
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For a grown-up's antidote, rent Ronin, an extremely realistic and humanistic spy thriller starring Robert DeNiro and directed by the great and recently late John Frankenheimer. It combines Frankenheimer's passions for France and fast cars (he also did Grand Prix) in what turned out to be his last theatrical release. Not the most suspenseful story, but intelligent, well-written and well-acted, no special effects to speak of and an educational director's commentary track.

Sunday, July 21, 2002

K-19: The Widowmaker (IMDB) (Netflix)
This is a bit of a rarity, a Hollywood film without any American characters or written from an American perspective, an action film from a female director (Kathryn Bigelow), and Harrison Ford playing a not-particularly likeable character (In What Lies Beneath they played up his usual good-guy persona to set up the reversal later). Inspired by a true story, K-19 is a gremlin-infested Soviet submarine rushed into service during the Cold War, and Ford is the kick-ass-and-take-names captain sent to replace the fatherly Liam Neeson, who's staying on the boat to help out. That's not a recipe for teamwork, and it seems that Ford's overwhelming sense of duty to the Motherland is writing checks his untested boat can't cash.

There's enough foreshadowing of doom to cover the ocean they sail in, but the movie rises slightly above the diminished expectations set by one of the worst trailers made in years. The key word, however, is "slightly." The exchanges between Ford and Neeson are trite, and even though K-19's based on a true story, Crimson Tide covered a lot of this ground with more verve. On the other hand, there's some decent character development over the course of the movie and a pretty damning indictment of the Soviet approach to management (create an environment destined to fail, then when it does, punish the people who were forced to use it). It's ultimately about why real heroes make sacrifices, not for God and Country, but for the guy in the next bunk.

Friday, July 19, 2002

Read My Lips (IMDB) (Netflix)
A French award winner, but don't hold that against it. Leading a life of very quiet desperation (she's almost completely deaf), a put-upon secretary connects with an even more hapless ex-con, and they begin to help and use each other for increasingly higher stakes. In other words, a relationship movie, but of the noir variety.

Although the secretary's lip-reading skills exist to enable a key plot point, the film also uses that as an opportunity to effectively take us into a different world (Helen Keller reportedly said that while her blindness cut her off from the world, her deafness separated her from people, which was much worse). There's an unremitting undertone of bleakness, a growing overtone of violence (sometimes bordering on gratuitous), and a secondary storyline that seems pointless even at its resolution, but at the end of the day, heart, uncompromised vision and artistic sensibility win out.

Thursday, July 18, 2002

Reign of Fire (IMDB) (Netflix)
Mad Max meets Mothra. Not a favorite genre, but it was a slow day at the office and far too hot to go home.

Some Londoners dig a tunnel, awakening a swarm of fire-breathing dragons who go on a scorched earth rampage that leaves only pockets of survivors scattered around the world. Running the UK contingent is Christian Bale, who's holding his own against the beasts until Matthew McConaughey, crazier than George S. Patton on crack, drops in with his tanks, helicopter and "the best defense is a good suicidal offense" doctrine.

The dragons are decently menacing, but the whole enterprise has a broken steering linkage, careening between "that's cool" and "I don't think so." McConaughey seems to have decided "screw it, if it's gonna be this bad of a movie, I'll have some fun with it" but Bale keeps a stiff upper acting lip, thinking he can bring some dignity to the proceedings. He chose ... poorly.

No hearts pounding in this audience.

Friday, July 12, 2002

Road to Perdition (IMDB) (Netflix)
When sons find out what their fathers do for a living, it's often a moment for incomprehension, indifference or disappointment. But Tom Hanks is no abstract paper pusher, and when his 12-year-old discovers his profession, the bonds of trust will be tested, and people are going to get killed.

This is only Sam Mendes's second film (following the critical and commercial success American Beauty) after dominating the London stage scene, but he's learned a great deal from the early days of his directorial career, when Steven Spielberg had to sit him down with the dailies and explain to him how to shoot footage that would actually cut together. It also helps that he has three generations of acting pros in Hanks, Paul Newman and Jude Law, a hall-of-fame cinematographer (Conrad Hall), and a haunting score by Thomas Newman. Chicago and the Illinois plains haven't looked better, and Mendes's theatrical sensibilities exploit this larger Midwestern canvas to great effect. Paul Newman nails his supporting bit as patriarch of the extended Rooney family/gang, Hanks adroitly balances the father-as-hit-man duality (although he could be a little more evil when he's in enforcer mode), and Law is enjoyably unsettling as the crime photographer who creates his own subjects.

The overall effect is perhaps too restrained, possibly from the actors being so respectful of each other's abilities that they're overly afraid to "get caught acting" by their peers, but this is straining to find flaws. At the risk of creating unmeetable expectations, pencil pretty much all concerned in for Oscar nominations. (For a very different family-man-as-hit-man drama, try the unjustifiably unseen Panic, with William H. Macy, Donald Sutherland, Barbara Bain and Tracy Ullman.)

Thursday, July 04, 2002

Patton (IMDB) (Netflix)
"God help me, I do love it so." The 1970 biography of George S. Patton, warrior, philosopher and glory hound, co-written by now-famous director Francis Ford Coppola, and winner of seven Oscars. Tempted by the chance to see it on the big screen, and melting in the heat, a hundred or so moviegoers (many of whom had only seen the movie on TV, about 30 times for one fan) crowded into the local revival house for the movie that George C. Scott was apparently born to play.

That first scene, with Patton addressing the troops in front of a frame-filling American flag, is itself an award-winner, and kicks off a tour de force performance by Scott, and a vivid portrait of one of the most interesting and successful generals in U.S. history. The crowd ate it up.

Wednesday, July 03, 2002

Men in Black II (IMDB) (Netflix)
Director and former cinematographer Barry Sonnenfeld has come a long way since Penny Marshall tried to fire him off of "Big," and even further from his days of paying the bills by shooting porno films. Will Smith ("J") and Tommy Lee Jones ("K") are back, as is Rip Torn ("Zed"), the worm guys, Frank the Pug and Tony Shaloub as the slimeball whose head grows back. Lara Flynn Boyle (Jack's girlfriend in real life--yes, him) is the one-woman axis of alien evil, and emerging ingénue Rosario Dawson is the girl in jeopardy and the object of J's affection.

The crowd was delighted by a constant barrage of action, gags and quips, and the MIB franchise remains fresh, because the movie stays locked onto its mission of fast-and-sly entertainment. Will Smith can do this in his sleep after carrying the whole load in Ali, and the rest of the cast pretty much holds up its end, although Dawson's part is under-written, giving her little to do except look winsome. Summer ephemera at its best.

Tuesday, July 02, 2002

The Fast Runner (Atanarjuat) (IMDB) (Netflix)
The professional reviews are almost universally glowing, friends liked it, and some French people gushed afterwards "I cannaught believe dat it wos almost tree hours longue--de time flew like a leetle sparrow" but put me down for "pending further review." I missed the crucial first minutes, couldn't clearly distinguish the male characters (Sara--sorry to disappoint), and was distracted by the constant clicking of some audience member's artificial heart (one assumes), so getting through this first-ever Inuit language film was a struggle and I'll need a replay to give it a fair shake.

It's filmed on location in the Arctic with a mostly amateur Inuit cast, and tells the tale of a tribe beset by more intrigue and shenanigans than Peyton Place, putting the lie to the romantic canard that those simple folks live in unfettered peace and harmony. The acting is what you'd expect, but the photography is pretty impressive in a documentary sortof way, plus you get to see a naked guy running on snow and ice for an impressively long time and some cool Inuit-style sunglasses made of animal bone (Oakley: take note). Very much in the tradition of Himalya: L'enfance d'un Chef.