The Lady Killers (IMDB) (Netflix)
A remake of the 1955 Alec Guiness and Peter Sellers version, with re-writing and direction from the Coen brothers and a cast led by Tom Hanks as Professor G.H. Dorr, Ph.D. and minor criminal mastermind who's spent too much time with his Thesaurus. Irma P. Hall is the naive-yet-formidable lady who may or may not get killed. Hanks and his coterie of petty criminals use Hall's cellar as their base camp for robbing a riverfront casino, but because everyone is pretty much a first class screw-up, very little goes according to plan. Hence the funny.
Those who've seen the many trailers for the movie know that Hanks was given the green light to make his performance as colorful as he liked, and the other actors had equal license, with richly—if broadly—drawn comic characters. The plot couldn't be much simpler—it's sortof an anti-Ocean's Eleven—just enough to let the actors do their thing. The Coens aren't movie makers who work to impress anyone other than themselves, particularly the many critics who weren't bowled over, but the smallish audience in my theater was clearly entertained throughout, as was I. With rousing Gospel music that, like O Brother, Where Art Thou?, will spawn another successful soundtrack.
Sunday, March 14, 2004
Secret Window (IMDB) (Netflix)
I went for Johnny Depp, who is always fun to watch, and apparently so did the couple dozen young women that made up most of the audience. Hmmm, must reflect on that. A psychological thriller from Stephen King, with Depp as a writer licking his marital wounds after a painful breakup. A looney John Turturro shows up claiming that Depp has plagiarized one of his stories, and the confrontation gets increasingly out of control. With Maria Bello (The Cooler) as the estranged wife and Timothy Hutton as the guy she took up with.
This is one of those films that starts out promising; Depp talking to himself is more interesting than dialog between just about any two other actors, the camera angles are fresh without being showy, and even Turturro in a Southern accent isn't too jarring. Things get tedious, though, as Depp tries unsuccessfully to calm an ever-angrier and more brazen Turturro, then toward the end, as the big twist is revealed and the climactic scene unfolds, there's a sense of being cheated, or at least let down.
Depp took a big risk with the hugely successful Pirates of the Carribean ("we're going to make a movie based on a theme park ride, whaddya say?"), and might have placed too much faith in his ability to sell this one to the audience.
I went for Johnny Depp, who is always fun to watch, and apparently so did the couple dozen young women that made up most of the audience. Hmmm, must reflect on that. A psychological thriller from Stephen King, with Depp as a writer licking his marital wounds after a painful breakup. A looney John Turturro shows up claiming that Depp has plagiarized one of his stories, and the confrontation gets increasingly out of control. With Maria Bello (The Cooler) as the estranged wife and Timothy Hutton as the guy she took up with.
This is one of those films that starts out promising; Depp talking to himself is more interesting than dialog between just about any two other actors, the camera angles are fresh without being showy, and even Turturro in a Southern accent isn't too jarring. Things get tedious, though, as Depp tries unsuccessfully to calm an ever-angrier and more brazen Turturro, then toward the end, as the big twist is revealed and the climactic scene unfolds, there's a sense of being cheated, or at least let down.
Depp took a big risk with the hugely successful Pirates of the Carribean ("we're going to make a movie based on a theme park ride, whaddya say?"), and might have placed too much faith in his ability to sell this one to the audience.
Friday, March 12, 2004
Spartan (IMDB) (Netflix)
For those whose belief in the villainy of politicians and their handlers is rarely shaken, here's your film. The president's daughter is missing, and Val Kilmer is the just-tell-me-what-to-do operative who tries to find her. While this might seem like a straight-ahead mystery/thriller, this is a David Mamet production, and there's little that's typical here.
Unless you're a Mamet aficionado, of course. Except for Kilmer, casting came directly from Mamet's speed-dial, the dialog is clipped and hard-ass and direction is, well, spartan. The story is by no means predictable, unfolding tantalizingly slowly through the first act, and with an expository spareness that will generate lots of questions among the non-cognoscenti (choose your movie neighbors with care). Kilmer does a nice job of adapting to—or at least overcoming—Mamet's rhythms (not every actor has succeeded) and there's a minor chord of conspiratorial menace and John Carré-like futility that brings depth to the proceedings. To be sure, the plot has a couple of rough spots, and many will find the stripped-down style less absorbing than the usual explosion fest, but this film is for people who listen more closely to the voice that whispers.
For those whose belief in the villainy of politicians and their handlers is rarely shaken, here's your film. The president's daughter is missing, and Val Kilmer is the just-tell-me-what-to-do operative who tries to find her. While this might seem like a straight-ahead mystery/thriller, this is a David Mamet production, and there's little that's typical here.
Unless you're a Mamet aficionado, of course. Except for Kilmer, casting came directly from Mamet's speed-dial, the dialog is clipped and hard-ass and direction is, well, spartan. The story is by no means predictable, unfolding tantalizingly slowly through the first act, and with an expository spareness that will generate lots of questions among the non-cognoscenti (choose your movie neighbors with care). Kilmer does a nice job of adapting to—or at least overcoming—Mamet's rhythms (not every actor has succeeded) and there's a minor chord of conspiratorial menace and John Carré-like futility that brings depth to the proceedings. To be sure, the plot has a couple of rough spots, and many will find the stripped-down style less absorbing than the usual explosion fest, but this film is for people who listen more closely to the voice that whispers.
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Hidalgo (IMDB) (Netflix)
Viggo Mortenson has a new horse to ride, as yet another post-Civil War soldier ravaged by guilt about the treatment of Native Americans, and therefore driven to drink (the Last Samurai had the same backstory for Tom Cruise). At this rate of expiation by cinema, Hollywood might make things right by, say, next month. OK, maybe not.
He finds some sense of purpose in a 3,000 mile race across the searing deserts of what now are Saudi Arabia, Iraq and Syria. Unfortunately the movie seems shot in real time, and that’s a lot of sand to cover. The story lacks pace, and most of its many beats (self-loathing, lack of identity, redemption, forbidden love and women’s lib are just few) are struck ham-handedly and with little impact. Nice surprises are Omar Sharif as the “sheik of sheiks” and father to the tomboy princess who just can’t keep that veil on, and the horse has a few nice “takes.” They go to that well far too often, however, and by the end even the horse seems like he’s mugging for the camera.
This will likely work for the 12 year olds in the house, or adults who want some regression therapy.
Viggo Mortenson has a new horse to ride, as yet another post-Civil War soldier ravaged by guilt about the treatment of Native Americans, and therefore driven to drink (the Last Samurai had the same backstory for Tom Cruise). At this rate of expiation by cinema, Hollywood might make things right by, say, next month. OK, maybe not.
He finds some sense of purpose in a 3,000 mile race across the searing deserts of what now are Saudi Arabia, Iraq and Syria. Unfortunately the movie seems shot in real time, and that’s a lot of sand to cover. The story lacks pace, and most of its many beats (self-loathing, lack of identity, redemption, forbidden love and women’s lib are just few) are struck ham-handedly and with little impact. Nice surprises are Omar Sharif as the “sheik of sheiks” and father to the tomboy princess who just can’t keep that veil on, and the horse has a few nice “takes.” They go to that well far too often, however, and by the end even the horse seems like he’s mugging for the camera.
This will likely work for the 12 year olds in the house, or adults who want some regression therapy.
Sunday, February 22, 2004
The Dreamers (IMDB) (Netflix)
From Bernardo Bertolucci, whose cinematic credentials are pretty much unimpeachable (The Last Emperor, 1900, The Conformist), as is his ability to create controversial films (Last Tango in Paris). It's 1968, in Paris, where the lefties have decided that everyone else is a fascist and challenging social conventions is a moral imperative. An American exchange student (Michael Pitt) meets up with a brother (Louis Garrel) and twin sister (Eva Green), who befriend him, and — before their parents can say "Don't have any wild parties while we're on holiday" — invite him to stay over. Three hormonally flooded teenagers, including siblings who are a bit closer than is decent, and revolution in the air— it's a heady, dangerous mix.
And a polarizing one for the critics, apparently. Put me on the unenchanted side. Green's physical charms are considerable and almost continously on display, and the guys are equally unencumbered throughout the film. Garrel and Green have that special twin thing going, they're precocious, willful teenagers, and on top of that, they're Parisians; it's all a bit much, or at least silly. Maybe that was what Bertolucci was going for (I doubt it), but it doesn't make the characters particularly sympathetic. You'll go for the sex, you'll stay for ... more sex.
From Bernardo Bertolucci, whose cinematic credentials are pretty much unimpeachable (The Last Emperor, 1900, The Conformist), as is his ability to create controversial films (Last Tango in Paris). It's 1968, in Paris, where the lefties have decided that everyone else is a fascist and challenging social conventions is a moral imperative. An American exchange student (Michael Pitt) meets up with a brother (Louis Garrel) and twin sister (Eva Green), who befriend him, and — before their parents can say "Don't have any wild parties while we're on holiday" — invite him to stay over. Three hormonally flooded teenagers, including siblings who are a bit closer than is decent, and revolution in the air— it's a heady, dangerous mix.
And a polarizing one for the critics, apparently. Put me on the unenchanted side. Green's physical charms are considerable and almost continously on display, and the guys are equally unencumbered throughout the film. Garrel and Green have that special twin thing going, they're precocious, willful teenagers, and on top of that, they're Parisians; it's all a bit much, or at least silly. Maybe that was what Bertolucci was going for (I doubt it), but it doesn't make the characters particularly sympathetic. You'll go for the sex, you'll stay for ... more sex.
Saturday, February 21, 2004
My Architect: A Son's Journey (IMDB) (Netflix)
As chaplain during my fraternity days, I had to precede each dinner with a short quote, one of which was "I asked a brick what it wanted to be, and it said 'make me an arch.'" That came from Louis Kahn, the architect. Kahn never really got professional traction until his 50's, didn't build very many buildings, died bankrupt in a men's room at Penn Station, and had three kids by three different women, all while being married to one of them. His son, one of the love children, was Nathaniel, only eleven when his dad died, and who has used this film as an attempt at understanding and possibly reconciling with the man who only occasionally came to dinner.
Lou Kahn is a great subject, all the more so because his compartmentalized life—no one really had the whole picture. And his fellow architects make for great interviews because, lets face it, they're such great bullshit artists (I would have loved to be in the room when I.M. Pei sold the French on that pyramid in front of the Louvre). The film focuses on Kahn and the people who knew their fractions of him, and wisely avoids the critics, who would have turned this into an intellectual exercise. It's the nature of fathers that we often really don't know them until they're gone, when we see them through the stories from their friends, and Nathaniel captures this process with quiet eloquence.
As chaplain during my fraternity days, I had to precede each dinner with a short quote, one of which was "I asked a brick what it wanted to be, and it said 'make me an arch.'" That came from Louis Kahn, the architect. Kahn never really got professional traction until his 50's, didn't build very many buildings, died bankrupt in a men's room at Penn Station, and had three kids by three different women, all while being married to one of them. His son, one of the love children, was Nathaniel, only eleven when his dad died, and who has used this film as an attempt at understanding and possibly reconciling with the man who only occasionally came to dinner.
Lou Kahn is a great subject, all the more so because his compartmentalized life—no one really had the whole picture. And his fellow architects make for great interviews because, lets face it, they're such great bullshit artists (I would have loved to be in the room when I.M. Pei sold the French on that pyramid in front of the Louvre). The film focuses on Kahn and the people who knew their fractions of him, and wisely avoids the critics, who would have turned this into an intellectual exercise. It's the nature of fathers that we often really don't know them until they're gone, when we see them through the stories from their friends, and Nathaniel captures this process with quiet eloquence.
Sunday, February 15, 2004
The Triplettes of Belleville (IMDB) (Netflix)
A French animated film comique, featuring a cyclist, his grandma and three sisters who long ago graced the stage, but now know a hundred ways to prepare frogs for dinner and, er, dessert. The young man goes missing and grandma chases after him, encountering the sisters and various nefarious characters.
If scenes of a fat dog climbing into bed with someone result in convulsive laughter (twice), this is your pick of the week. And apparently my theater was full of these folks, which generated waves of self-doubt about my movie judgement and made the whole tedious exercise seem far longer. The humor is nursing-home lame, the frog stuff is slightly disgusting, and every scene is 50% too long. Then again, both the critics and regular folks seem to love this attempted comedy, so maybe you should ask someone else.
A French animated film comique, featuring a cyclist, his grandma and three sisters who long ago graced the stage, but now know a hundred ways to prepare frogs for dinner and, er, dessert. The young man goes missing and grandma chases after him, encountering the sisters and various nefarious characters.
If scenes of a fat dog climbing into bed with someone result in convulsive laughter (twice), this is your pick of the week. And apparently my theater was full of these folks, which generated waves of self-doubt about my movie judgement and made the whole tedious exercise seem far longer. The humor is nursing-home lame, the frog stuff is slightly disgusting, and every scene is 50% too long. Then again, both the critics and regular folks seem to love this attempted comedy, so maybe you should ask someone else.
Friday, February 13, 2004
Big Fish (IMDB) (Netflix)
Tim Burton's latest, about a tale-telling dad (Albert Finney), who's incessant fish-that-got-away fables have alienated his more just-the-facts-ma'am son (Billy Crudup). Finney is dying, however, and Crudup returns home in a last attempt to figure out who his dad really is. Told through a series of flashbacks, with Ewan McGregor as the younger version, Jessica Lange as the mom, and a cavalcade of the oddball characters that Burton loves so much.
This will be a fuzzy recollection, having viewed this film some weeks ago, but I do know that I was intrigued, entertained and — toward the end — moved by this innovative father-son story. Burton always has affection for those who seem most at home working in the circus, and Finney, Crudup and Lange easily handle the more melodramatic passages. McGregor carries much of the load, however, and does it with charm, responding to each novel situation with mixture of wonder, acceptance and bravado. The standard deviation of the real critics' reactions is surprisingly high, but it's difficult to see what they're complaining about. A charmer.
Tim Burton's latest, about a tale-telling dad (Albert Finney), who's incessant fish-that-got-away fables have alienated his more just-the-facts-ma'am son (Billy Crudup). Finney is dying, however, and Crudup returns home in a last attempt to figure out who his dad really is. Told through a series of flashbacks, with Ewan McGregor as the younger version, Jessica Lange as the mom, and a cavalcade of the oddball characters that Burton loves so much.
This will be a fuzzy recollection, having viewed this film some weeks ago, but I do know that I was intrigued, entertained and — toward the end — moved by this innovative father-son story. Burton always has affection for those who seem most at home working in the circus, and Finney, Crudup and Lange easily handle the more melodramatic passages. McGregor carries much of the load, however, and does it with charm, responding to each novel situation with mixture of wonder, acceptance and bravado. The standard deviation of the real critics' reactions is surprisingly high, but it's difficult to see what they're complaining about. A charmer.
Saturday, February 07, 2004
Girl with a Pearl Earring (IMDB) (Netflix)
A fictional "making of" drama about the famous Vermeer painting, starring Colin Firth as the painter and Scarlett Johansson as the paintee. Scarlett becomes a maid in the Vermeer household, which, other than Firth, is teeming with estrogen—there's the oft-pregnant and cuckholded wife, a girl band's worth of snotty daughters, a bossy housekeeper and a mother-in-law who could intimidate a grizzly bear, but everyone has to suck up to patron Van Ruijven (Tom Wilkinson), who knows how to strike a bargain. Scarlett of course gets caught in the multilateral cross-fire when Vermeer sees that she (in today's vernacular) "gets him" and becomes his silent muse.
And silent she is, uttering no more than a few pages of dialog throughout the film. It's a shaded, physical performance of reactions to everyone attentions, which are a disorienting mix of jealousy, dismissiveness, lechery and mentoring. If there were a category for most sympathetic movie character, Johansson would get it in a walk. Although fictionalized, the story doesn't seem sensationalized, but it does seem to go out of its way to make the household as tense and somber as it can. An engaging little slice of the artistic life and the circumstances that may or may not have contributed to greatness.
A fictional "making of" drama about the famous Vermeer painting, starring Colin Firth as the painter and Scarlett Johansson as the paintee. Scarlett becomes a maid in the Vermeer household, which, other than Firth, is teeming with estrogen—there's the oft-pregnant and cuckholded wife, a girl band's worth of snotty daughters, a bossy housekeeper and a mother-in-law who could intimidate a grizzly bear, but everyone has to suck up to patron Van Ruijven (Tom Wilkinson), who knows how to strike a bargain. Scarlett of course gets caught in the multilateral cross-fire when Vermeer sees that she (in today's vernacular) "gets him" and becomes his silent muse.
And silent she is, uttering no more than a few pages of dialog throughout the film. It's a shaded, physical performance of reactions to everyone attentions, which are a disorienting mix of jealousy, dismissiveness, lechery and mentoring. If there were a category for most sympathetic movie character, Johansson would get it in a walk. Although fictionalized, the story doesn't seem sensationalized, but it does seem to go out of its way to make the household as tense and somber as it can. An engaging little slice of the artistic life and the circumstances that may or may not have contributed to greatness.
The Big Bounce (IMDB) (Netflix)
Owen Wilson is a nice-guy petty thief with an irresistible broken nose, who starts hanging with bad girl Sara Foster, mistress of a rich sleazeball (Gary Sinise). There's a judge (Morgan Freeman) who's got something cooking on the side, and Charlie Sheen is now (finally!) playing character parts. Most of the movie consists of Foster trying to get Wilson to come in on the scam. The latest movie based on a novel by Elmore Leonard, the Philip K. Dick of crime.
This is the most affable crime film in years, which helps, because it's as leisurely as its Hawaiian setting, and constructed like a Tiki hut built by Cub Scouts. Everyone and everything, including the plot, just ambles along, and even the climax onlyraises the pulse by maybe ten points. Wilson's beachcombing hipster persona is on the money, his slightly whiny when-will-the-other-one-drop voice giving him the boyish charm to slide through the rough spots. Unlike Animal House, which just got added to the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress, this won't win any awards, but it's a stress-free 90 minutes of sly humor.
Owen Wilson is a nice-guy petty thief with an irresistible broken nose, who starts hanging with bad girl Sara Foster, mistress of a rich sleazeball (Gary Sinise). There's a judge (Morgan Freeman) who's got something cooking on the side, and Charlie Sheen is now (finally!) playing character parts. Most of the movie consists of Foster trying to get Wilson to come in on the scam. The latest movie based on a novel by Elmore Leonard, the Philip K. Dick of crime.
This is the most affable crime film in years, which helps, because it's as leisurely as its Hawaiian setting, and constructed like a Tiki hut built by Cub Scouts. Everyone and everything, including the plot, just ambles along, and even the climax onlyraises the pulse by maybe ten points. Wilson's beachcombing hipster persona is on the money, his slightly whiny when-will-the-other-one-drop voice giving him the boyish charm to slide through the rough spots. Unlike Animal House, which just got added to the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress, this won't win any awards, but it's a stress-free 90 minutes of sly humor.
Saturday, January 03, 2004
Cold Mountain (IMDB) (Netflix)
Jude Law has had too much of the Civil War and is heading home, Homerically, to Nicole Kidman, his life's love, even though he's not sure that she even remembers his name. Meanwhile, Nicole's not coping well with life on the homefront, what with the predatious Home Guard and because of her Southern Belle upbringing, an impressive lack of practical skills. Renee Zellweger provides the comic relief and feminist backbone, and Philip Seymour Hoffman has a nice turn as an amoral preacher. An anti-war film that focuses on those left behind, and a testament to true, distant love.
There's not much to complain about here, except maybe that much later one gets this sense of a collection of beats (touchingly chaste romance, war is hell, comic relief, brutality of man—rinse and repeat) that disaggregates from what seemed at the time like a cohesive story. And (he whinged, warming to the task) Kidman seems like an actress fought over by two wildly different make-up artists, or a contest between Grace Kelly Kidman vs. Madame Toussaud Kidman.
Jude Law has had too much of the Civil War and is heading home, Homerically, to Nicole Kidman, his life's love, even though he's not sure that she even remembers his name. Meanwhile, Nicole's not coping well with life on the homefront, what with the predatious Home Guard and because of her Southern Belle upbringing, an impressive lack of practical skills. Renee Zellweger provides the comic relief and feminist backbone, and Philip Seymour Hoffman has a nice turn as an amoral preacher. An anti-war film that focuses on those left behind, and a testament to true, distant love.
There's not much to complain about here, except maybe that much later one gets this sense of a collection of beats (touchingly chaste romance, war is hell, comic relief, brutality of man—rinse and repeat) that disaggregates from what seemed at the time like a cohesive story. And (he whinged, warming to the task) Kidman seems like an actress fought over by two wildly different make-up artists, or a contest between Grace Kelly Kidman vs. Madame Toussaud Kidman.
Monday, December 29, 2003
House of Sand and Fog (IMDB) (Netflix)
Jennifer Connelly is an alcoholic, slightly self-destructive housekeeper who's just lost her house (safety tip: read your mail), and Ben Kingsley is a former Iranian army colonel who desperately wants to regain some semblance of self-respect. Combine those ingredients with an overly helpful police officer (Ron Eldard) and a screenwriter's convenient disregard for the realities of property law, and you've got yourselves a situation.
Walking out of the theater afterwards was a middle-aged couple. The guy said "chick flick noir", and his wife laughed. That's too kind; this is a relentless bleak-fest. Every character and plot point reeks of impending senseless tragedy, and the amazing thing is that the ending exceeds your worst fears. Give credit to all concerned for staying true to a vision and realizing it in a truly competent fashion, but it's not one that many will want to be part of. The audience's uneasy, nervous laughter as the credits rolled signalled the end of a harrowing experience that some apparently liked but no one seemed eager to repeat.
This movie is showing up on many critics' Top 10 lists, which validates the film's craftsmanship, but isn't indicative of its enjoyability.
Jennifer Connelly is an alcoholic, slightly self-destructive housekeeper who's just lost her house (safety tip: read your mail), and Ben Kingsley is a former Iranian army colonel who desperately wants to regain some semblance of self-respect. Combine those ingredients with an overly helpful police officer (Ron Eldard) and a screenwriter's convenient disregard for the realities of property law, and you've got yourselves a situation.
Walking out of the theater afterwards was a middle-aged couple. The guy said "chick flick noir", and his wife laughed. That's too kind; this is a relentless bleak-fest. Every character and plot point reeks of impending senseless tragedy, and the amazing thing is that the ending exceeds your worst fears. Give credit to all concerned for staying true to a vision and realizing it in a truly competent fashion, but it's not one that many will want to be part of. The audience's uneasy, nervous laughter as the credits rolled signalled the end of a harrowing experience that some apparently liked but no one seemed eager to repeat.
This movie is showing up on many critics' Top 10 lists, which validates the film's craftsmanship, but isn't indicative of its enjoyability.
Paycheck (IMDB) (Netflix)
Another Philip K. Dick short story turned into a movie, starring Ben Affleck as the consummate reverse engineer who works on projects so sensitive that he has to get his memory wiped clean after each project. It's a living. On his last gig, however, he intentionally gives up his fee and sends himself a care package of clues and job aids that would make MacGyver proud. The question that's running through his recently scrubbed brain is "why the hell would I do that?"
Dick's stories usually minimized the usual sci-fi technology trappings and often focused on cognition (in the case of Minority Report, pre-cognition) and memory (Total Recall). He works these themes again to good effect here, requiring that Affleck and Uma Thurman (and the audience) figure out what the game is at the same time they're dodging evil henchmen trying to kill them. Eventually, this reduces down to a conventional action thriller, but the premise fuels a great two-thirds of a movie.
Another Philip K. Dick short story turned into a movie, starring Ben Affleck as the consummate reverse engineer who works on projects so sensitive that he has to get his memory wiped clean after each project. It's a living. On his last gig, however, he intentionally gives up his fee and sends himself a care package of clues and job aids that would make MacGyver proud. The question that's running through his recently scrubbed brain is "why the hell would I do that?"
Dick's stories usually minimized the usual sci-fi technology trappings and often focused on cognition (in the case of Minority Report, pre-cognition) and memory (Total Recall). He works these themes again to good effect here, requiring that Affleck and Uma Thurman (and the audience) figure out what the game is at the same time they're dodging evil henchmen trying to kill them. Eventually, this reduces down to a conventional action thriller, but the premise fuels a great two-thirds of a movie.
Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (IMDB) (Netflix)
Another trilogy bites the dust. The gang is pretty much all back: Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf, Smeagol--but no Saruman, who didn't make it out of the editing suite. Which is surprising, since this colossus weighs in at three hours and twenty minutes (some say 3:30) and tacks on what appeared to be five (I lost count) epilogues.
Unlike the last Matrix effort, this high-tech triptych walks across the line under its own power. Director Peter Jackson seems to have finally gotten the hang of movie-making (a remake of King Kong is next for him), but having quality source material may have helped (the Matrices' Wachowski Brothers clearly were overextended). This is a solid chocolate Santa, with well-developed (as opposed to over-developed) themes of sacrifice, courage, fellowship and purity of spirit, plus impeccable special effects. The can't-bear-to-say-goodbye endings generated some groans and perhaps a little mocking laughter, dulling the finish, which is unfortunate, but not particularly damaging.
Another trilogy bites the dust. The gang is pretty much all back: Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf, Smeagol--but no Saruman, who didn't make it out of the editing suite. Which is surprising, since this colossus weighs in at three hours and twenty minutes (some say 3:30) and tacks on what appeared to be five (I lost count) epilogues.
Unlike the last Matrix effort, this high-tech triptych walks across the line under its own power. Director Peter Jackson seems to have finally gotten the hang of movie-making (a remake of King Kong is next for him), but having quality source material may have helped (the Matrices' Wachowski Brothers clearly were overextended). This is a solid chocolate Santa, with well-developed (as opposed to over-developed) themes of sacrifice, courage, fellowship and purity of spirit, plus impeccable special effects. The can't-bear-to-say-goodbye endings generated some groans and perhaps a little mocking laughter, dulling the finish, which is unfortunate, but not particularly damaging.
Sunday, December 28, 2003
Cheaper by the Dozen (IMDB) (Netflix)
A very loose, even unrecognizable remake of the 1950 classic, starring Steve Martin and Bonnie Hunt. Martin's got his big break to coach a college football team, and Hunt's book just got published, and so their blossoming careers start to test their family values. Another niece-and-nephew pick.
And yes, they liked this one too. And yes, it does have its moments, but one can only take so many charming youngsters, and twelve far exceeds my limit. There are precisely two themes at work here, career vs. family (twice over) and the ostracized, out-of-synch-family-member bit), and they're hammered home with minimal subtlety. When Steve and Bonnie are together, everything's a little crisper, but this mostly Martin coping with the kids and their difficulty in adapting to the new surroundings. There are some heartwarming scenes toward the end, but by then it's too late to have much impact.
A very loose, even unrecognizable remake of the 1950 classic, starring Steve Martin and Bonnie Hunt. Martin's got his big break to coach a college football team, and Hunt's book just got published, and so their blossoming careers start to test their family values. Another niece-and-nephew pick.
And yes, they liked this one too. And yes, it does have its moments, but one can only take so many charming youngsters, and twelve far exceeds my limit. There are precisely two themes at work here, career vs. family (twice over) and the ostracized, out-of-synch-family-member bit), and they're hammered home with minimal subtlety. When Steve and Bonnie are together, everything's a little crisper, but this mostly Martin coping with the kids and their difficulty in adapting to the new surroundings. There are some heartwarming scenes toward the end, but by then it's too late to have much impact.
Haunted Mansion (IMDB) (Netflix)
An Eddie Murphy vehicle, and a niece-and-nephew selection. Eddie's a workaholic real estate agent who has to make one more call before a family outing, at the aforementioned property, but of course this isn't just a charming fixer-upper. It's got a past, which involves a Romeo and Juliet-style tragic love affair, and some very troubled ghosts, one of whom has taken a shine to Eddie's better half.
The kids liked it (the acorn apparently falls very far from the tree; they like everything), and even got a little scared during one sequence involving spiders and zombied skeletons. For the adults, however, there's not a lot of inside grown-up humor going on, and I was troubled by the inclusion of a suicide theme in a PG movie.
An Eddie Murphy vehicle, and a niece-and-nephew selection. Eddie's a workaholic real estate agent who has to make one more call before a family outing, at the aforementioned property, but of course this isn't just a charming fixer-upper. It's got a past, which involves a Romeo and Juliet-style tragic love affair, and some very troubled ghosts, one of whom has taken a shine to Eddie's better half.
The kids liked it (the acorn apparently falls very far from the tree; they like everything), and even got a little scared during one sequence involving spiders and zombied skeletons. For the adults, however, there's not a lot of inside grown-up humor going on, and I was troubled by the inclusion of a suicide theme in a PG movie.
The Cooler (IMDB) (Netflix)
William H. Macy is Bernie, the unluckiest guy on the planet, who has turned his karmic lemons into career lemonade in Las Vegas, by being a "cooler"—the guy who derails your string of good rolls of the dice and keeps the house in the black. Alec Baldwin is the old-school casino owner who has the goods on Bernie, and Maria Bello is the girl who turns things around for him, with results both comical and potentially tragic.
This is a much more violent film than the previews imply, which was somewhat jarring. The characters are broadly drawn, but so well acted that you almost don't notice (this insight courtesy of Sara K.). Bello in particular was impressive, by being at times winsome and desparate, then endearing and tough as a streetwalker ten years past her prime. With accurate expectations going in, a reasonable choice in the same vein as True Romance.
William H. Macy is Bernie, the unluckiest guy on the planet, who has turned his karmic lemons into career lemonade in Las Vegas, by being a "cooler"—the guy who derails your string of good rolls of the dice and keeps the house in the black. Alec Baldwin is the old-school casino owner who has the goods on Bernie, and Maria Bello is the girl who turns things around for him, with results both comical and potentially tragic.
This is a much more violent film than the previews imply, which was somewhat jarring. The characters are broadly drawn, but so well acted that you almost don't notice (this insight courtesy of Sara K.). Bello in particular was impressive, by being at times winsome and desparate, then endearing and tough as a streetwalker ten years past her prime. With accurate expectations going in, a reasonable choice in the same vein as True Romance.
Something's Gotta Give (IMDB) (Netflix)
A romantic comedy for grown-ups, with grown-ups in the lead roles, assuming you consider Keanu Reeves as adult as Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson. Keaton's a playwright who believes that love won't happen again and Nicholson's a confirmed bachelor for whom the milk is flowing freely. They meet cute when Jack dates Keaton's daughter, and are forced to spend time together when he becomes an unwilling house guest for a few days. When Reeves creates some stirrings in Keaton when he wants to become May to her September, and we're off and running.
This film has gotten a lot of points for showing people of a certain age doing what the rest of the movie industry considers appropriate only for the under-40 crowd, and so it should. Keaton and Nicholson are fun to watch together, and Keanu's not too much of a distraction. Writer/director Nancy Myers could have been a little more ruthless in the cutting room (surely there's a rule against films in this genre going over two hours), and some of the humor is maybe a little too "aren't we naughty?" for male tastes, but in all, a pretty successful outing.
A romantic comedy for grown-ups, with grown-ups in the lead roles, assuming you consider Keanu Reeves as adult as Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson. Keaton's a playwright who believes that love won't happen again and Nicholson's a confirmed bachelor for whom the milk is flowing freely. They meet cute when Jack dates Keaton's daughter, and are forced to spend time together when he becomes an unwilling house guest for a few days. When Reeves creates some stirrings in Keaton when he wants to become May to her September, and we're off and running.
This film has gotten a lot of points for showing people of a certain age doing what the rest of the movie industry considers appropriate only for the under-40 crowd, and so it should. Keaton and Nicholson are fun to watch together, and Keanu's not too much of a distraction. Writer/director Nancy Myers could have been a little more ruthless in the cutting room (surely there's a rule against films in this genre going over two hours), and some of the humor is maybe a little too "aren't we naughty?" for male tastes, but in all, a pretty successful outing.
Sunday, December 07, 2003
Shattered Glass (IMDB) (Netflix)
Good journalists ingratiate themselves with their subjects, bad ones cultivate their colleagues and bosses. The New Republic magazine had its own Jayson Blair, in the form of Stephen Glass (played by Hayden Christensen), a wunderkind who was getting the stories that no one else got. There was a reason for this, of course, just like there was a reason why MCI/WorldCom could make huge profits when Sprint was gasping for air, wondering what the hell was going on. Peter Sarsgaard is TNR's editor when it all starts to unravel, and Chloë Sevigny one of the staunchest Glass allies.
Even though it's a supporting role, Sarsgaard's contribution is far more interesting because he has the tough choices to make, and bravely doesn't play to our sympathies in making them. Christensen proves he can act (his Star Wars performance is an example of when bad dialogue happens to good actors), with a mix of youthful arrogance and cloying opportunism. The ending is extremely well done, both poignant and affirming.
A small picture, with a lot of substance.
Good journalists ingratiate themselves with their subjects, bad ones cultivate their colleagues and bosses. The New Republic magazine had its own Jayson Blair, in the form of Stephen Glass (played by Hayden Christensen), a wunderkind who was getting the stories that no one else got. There was a reason for this, of course, just like there was a reason why MCI/WorldCom could make huge profits when Sprint was gasping for air, wondering what the hell was going on. Peter Sarsgaard is TNR's editor when it all starts to unravel, and Chloë Sevigny one of the staunchest Glass allies.
Even though it's a supporting role, Sarsgaard's contribution is far more interesting because he has the tough choices to make, and bravely doesn't play to our sympathies in making them. Christensen proves he can act (his Star Wars performance is an example of when bad dialogue happens to good actors), with a mix of youthful arrogance and cloying opportunism. The ending is extremely well done, both poignant and affirming.
A small picture, with a lot of substance.
Saturday, December 06, 2003
The Last Samurai (IMDB) (Netflix)
As a former captain in the post-U.S. Civil War army, Tom Cruise can barely live with himself. He was a hero in the war, then part of the brutal campaign against Native Americans in the West. Down on his guilt-permeated, self-destructive luck, he's lured to Japan to train their army against the Samurai, who are waging their own rebellion against modernity. Things don't go as planned, however, and Cruise quickly finds himself on the wrong side. Or maybe the right one. It's equal parts Lawrence of Arabia and Stockholm Syndrome, with a dash of Gaijin Gets a Kimono.
Apparently it's also an epic, because of the two hour and twenty-four minutes running time (don't count on the usual 15 minutes of commericals and previews at the local cineplex—get there promptly, because they might be squeezing in an extra showing). The noble intent is there, the battle scenes are grand, the bridge is built across the cultural divide. Cruise is his typical affable/intense self, Ken Watanabe is pure studliness as the samurai leader and all his warriors look tres chic in their armor (which will all very soon appear in a Paris fashion show). Battle has seldom been more horrific or beautifully photographed.
The audience was entertained, and so was I, but without being particularly moved.
As a former captain in the post-U.S. Civil War army, Tom Cruise can barely live with himself. He was a hero in the war, then part of the brutal campaign against Native Americans in the West. Down on his guilt-permeated, self-destructive luck, he's lured to Japan to train their army against the Samurai, who are waging their own rebellion against modernity. Things don't go as planned, however, and Cruise quickly finds himself on the wrong side. Or maybe the right one. It's equal parts Lawrence of Arabia and Stockholm Syndrome, with a dash of Gaijin Gets a Kimono.
Apparently it's also an epic, because of the two hour and twenty-four minutes running time (don't count on the usual 15 minutes of commericals and previews at the local cineplex—get there promptly, because they might be squeezing in an extra showing). The noble intent is there, the battle scenes are grand, the bridge is built across the cultural divide. Cruise is his typical affable/intense self, Ken Watanabe is pure studliness as the samurai leader and all his warriors look tres chic in their armor (which will all very soon appear in a Paris fashion show). Battle has seldom been more horrific or beautifully photographed.
The audience was entertained, and so was I, but without being particularly moved.
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