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.
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.
Sunday, November 30, 2003
The Missing (IMDB) (Netflix)
Cate Blanchett is a Wild West frontier doctor with two daughters and no use for for her long-absent father (Tommy Lee Jones), who ran off to hang with the Native Americans years back. He's ostensibly returned for some doctoring and Cate's none too happy about seeing him. When one of her girls is kidnapped by slave-trading renegades, however, she needs his help, and thus is launched a story reminiscent of John Ford's classic The Searchers and the more recent The Last of the Mohicans. Directed by Ron Howard and featuring the least attractive Native American (Eric Schweig) seen in motion pictures, as the evil medicine man.
This is a tough one to assess—on a technical level, all the elements are there, and I was absorbed in the story as it unfolded, but nothing stuck to my ribs afterwards. Even though little is spared in terms of writing, well-portrayed characters, photography or violent action, it just doesn't have the "Searchers'" epic quality, nor "Mohicans'" sleek beauty and passion. It's not a failure, though, and absent the tough comparisons a reasonable pick for its empowered female lead and great scenery.
Cate Blanchett is a Wild West frontier doctor with two daughters and no use for for her long-absent father (Tommy Lee Jones), who ran off to hang with the Native Americans years back. He's ostensibly returned for some doctoring and Cate's none too happy about seeing him. When one of her girls is kidnapped by slave-trading renegades, however, she needs his help, and thus is launched a story reminiscent of John Ford's classic The Searchers and the more recent The Last of the Mohicans. Directed by Ron Howard and featuring the least attractive Native American (Eric Schweig) seen in motion pictures, as the evil medicine man.
This is a tough one to assess—on a technical level, all the elements are there, and I was absorbed in the story as it unfolded, but nothing stuck to my ribs afterwards. Even though little is spared in terms of writing, well-portrayed characters, photography or violent action, it just doesn't have the "Searchers'" epic quality, nor "Mohicans'" sleek beauty and passion. It's not a failure, though, and absent the tough comparisons a reasonable pick for its empowered female lead and great scenery.
Friday, November 28, 2003
In America (IMDB) (Netflix)
The confusing-but-intriguing trailer for this film appeared a year ago, but wasn't followed up with the movie. Often a re-launch is a sign of a project in deep trouble, but this proves to be the pleasant exception.
Director Jim Sheridan (My Left Foot, In the Name of the Father) and his daughters tell a very intimate, semi-autobiographical story of a young Irish family coming to New York City so that the dad (Paddy Considine) can make it as an actor. It's tough going, especially living in the tenement dominated by drug users, and weighed down by the memory of a young son who died under tragic circumstances.
Heavy stuff, and these days it might be the more difficult movie-going decision, but there's much more than the melodramatic plot points, and its ambition and quality far outweighs the emotional risk. It got to me in the same way as Nowhere in Africa, but with even more impact, through a more intimate visual style and rawer performances from Considine and Samantha Morton, plus thoroughly impressive theatrical debuts from Bolger sisters Sarah and Emma.
The confusing-but-intriguing trailer for this film appeared a year ago, but wasn't followed up with the movie. Often a re-launch is a sign of a project in deep trouble, but this proves to be the pleasant exception.
Director Jim Sheridan (My Left Foot, In the Name of the Father) and his daughters tell a very intimate, semi-autobiographical story of a young Irish family coming to New York City so that the dad (Paddy Considine) can make it as an actor. It's tough going, especially living in the tenement dominated by drug users, and weighed down by the memory of a young son who died under tragic circumstances.
Heavy stuff, and these days it might be the more difficult movie-going decision, but there's much more than the melodramatic plot points, and its ambition and quality far outweighs the emotional risk. It got to me in the same way as Nowhere in Africa, but with even more impact, through a more intimate visual style and rawer performances from Considine and Samantha Morton, plus thoroughly impressive theatrical debuts from Bolger sisters Sarah and Emma.
Bad Santa (IMDB) (Netflix)
Billy Bob Thornton is the worst department store Santa of all time: a self-soiling drunk, a womanizer and a crook, with a uniquely seasonal scam, partnering with little person Tony Cox as Santa's helper to crack the store's safe after all the children and sales associates are nestled safely in their beds. Thornton's conscience is nowhere to be found, at least not until the biggest loser in movie kid history makes his acquaintance, and even then it takes a determined seige of pathetic innocence. With the late John Ritter as the appalled store manager and Bernie Mac as the security guy, and a too-good-for-him Laura Graham as the bartender with a puzzling thing for men in red suits. Directed by Terry Swigoff of Ghost World and Crumb and produced by the Coen Brothers.
If this seems entirely unappealling, then "Bad Santa" wasn't written for you, and there's far more wholesome fare available. If, however, you can the see the twisted comedic possibilities, then come on in and enjoy the orgy of inappropriate, hate-yourself-for-laughing humor that would give a college sophomore pause. Only with Robert Duvall's performance in The Great Santini has an actor been more determined to be so unsympathetic, or so successful.
Billy Bob Thornton is the worst department store Santa of all time: a self-soiling drunk, a womanizer and a crook, with a uniquely seasonal scam, partnering with little person Tony Cox as Santa's helper to crack the store's safe after all the children and sales associates are nestled safely in their beds. Thornton's conscience is nowhere to be found, at least not until the biggest loser in movie kid history makes his acquaintance, and even then it takes a determined seige of pathetic innocence. With the late John Ritter as the appalled store manager and Bernie Mac as the security guy, and a too-good-for-him Laura Graham as the bartender with a puzzling thing for men in red suits. Directed by Terry Swigoff of Ghost World and Crumb and produced by the Coen Brothers.
If this seems entirely unappealling, then "Bad Santa" wasn't written for you, and there's far more wholesome fare available. If, however, you can the see the twisted comedic possibilities, then come on in and enjoy the orgy of inappropriate, hate-yourself-for-laughing humor that would give a college sophomore pause. Only with Robert Duvall's performance in The Great Santini has an actor been more determined to be so unsympathetic, or so successful.
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Elf (IMDB) (Netflix)
In Swingers and Made, indie writer-director Jon Favreau chronicled the humorous, slightly pathetic lives of two hipsters manqué. Elf goes entirely the other way, with a big budget and Will Ferrell as a 6’3”, thirty-ish eight-year-old raised at the North Pole. Ferrell’s lacking the elfin necessities, and once he finally realizes his true human nature, strikes out for New York City to re-unite with his biological father, a “naughty list” mainstay in the form of Mr. James Caan.
There’s nothing hip about Ferrell’s character, fortunately, from the green-and-yellow elf suit to his complete naïveté about the world, least of all regarding the hard-boiled Big Apple (sorry, it was there, begging to go on the page). He’s as completely clueless, trusting and energetic as a puppy, and the rest of the cast (notably Bob Newhart, Mary Steenburgen and Zooey Deschanel) wisely stay low-key to maximize the effect. The climactic sequence doesn’t have nearly the impact one would hope for, but this is a strong mainstream showing for Mr. Favreau, and he owes almost all of its success to Ferrell’s talent for sweet self-mockery.
In Swingers and Made, indie writer-director Jon Favreau chronicled the humorous, slightly pathetic lives of two hipsters manqué. Elf goes entirely the other way, with a big budget and Will Ferrell as a 6’3”, thirty-ish eight-year-old raised at the North Pole. Ferrell’s lacking the elfin necessities, and once he finally realizes his true human nature, strikes out for New York City to re-unite with his biological father, a “naughty list” mainstay in the form of Mr. James Caan.
There’s nothing hip about Ferrell’s character, fortunately, from the green-and-yellow elf suit to his complete naïveté about the world, least of all regarding the hard-boiled Big Apple (sorry, it was there, begging to go on the page). He’s as completely clueless, trusting and energetic as a puppy, and the rest of the cast (notably Bob Newhart, Mary Steenburgen and Zooey Deschanel) wisely stay low-key to maximize the effect. The climactic sequence doesn’t have nearly the impact one would hope for, but this is a strong mainstream showing for Mr. Favreau, and he owes almost all of its success to Ferrell’s talent for sweet self-mockery.
Saturday, November 15, 2003
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (IMDB) (NetFlix)
Acting’s bad-boy Russell Crowe gets nautical, as “Lucky Jack” Aubrey, captain of HMS Surprise in the Napoleonic Wars, pursuing a Bismarck-like French juggernaut on the high seas around South America. It’s based on one of twenty (count ‘em) novels by Patrick O’Brian, and directed by Peter Weir, known for a small, highly respected body of original and quietly powerful works such as Witness, Picnic at Hanging Rock and The Year of Living Dangerously, plus a more energetic The Truman Show. So it’s a bit of a surprise that he’s trying his hand at a genre piece, albeit a category that’s been mostly dormant for some time. Co-starring Paul Bettany as ship’s surgeon, Captain’s pal and proto-Darwin (the Galapagos Islands figure prominently), and a complement of sweaty sailors.
It’s a solid entertainment with a goodly amount of thematic depth, and Crowe dispense discipline and encouragement in equal doses and with the same ease—an almost too-perfect leader (having him play the violin to show his sensitive side was pushing it). For most of the movie, the French ship is an under-lit cipher, like the trucker’s rig in Duel, imbruing it with a seeming invincibility.
I could have used more of Weir’s visual lyricism, but this is clearly the birth of a franchise.
Acting’s bad-boy Russell Crowe gets nautical, as “Lucky Jack” Aubrey, captain of HMS Surprise in the Napoleonic Wars, pursuing a Bismarck-like French juggernaut on the high seas around South America. It’s based on one of twenty (count ‘em) novels by Patrick O’Brian, and directed by Peter Weir, known for a small, highly respected body of original and quietly powerful works such as Witness, Picnic at Hanging Rock and The Year of Living Dangerously, plus a more energetic The Truman Show. So it’s a bit of a surprise that he’s trying his hand at a genre piece, albeit a category that’s been mostly dormant for some time. Co-starring Paul Bettany as ship’s surgeon, Captain’s pal and proto-Darwin (the Galapagos Islands figure prominently), and a complement of sweaty sailors.
It’s a solid entertainment with a goodly amount of thematic depth, and Crowe dispense discipline and encouragement in equal doses and with the same ease—an almost too-perfect leader (having him play the violin to show his sensitive side was pushing it). For most of the movie, the French ship is an under-lit cipher, like the trucker’s rig in Duel, imbruing it with a seeming invincibility.
I could have used more of Weir’s visual lyricism, but this is clearly the birth of a franchise.
Sunday, November 09, 2003
The Matrix: Revolutions (IMDB) (Netflix)
OK, lets get this over with. The last of this trilogy, soon to be followed by the Lord of the Rings capper, another Harry Potter, and somewhere in the sequel pipeline, the sixth and final Star Wars installment. The Wachowski Brothers dial down the myth-making and gear up the action, with a final show-down between the humans and the machines, and Neo and Mr. Smith.
Despite the huge battle scene, a certain fatigue has set in, with Laurence Fishburne being almost invisible and the Neo/Smith duel an anticlimax compared to their fight in Part Two. Even the ad campaign has seemed half-hearted, although that might be more a recognition of how needless it would be to sell this picture to the fans, or equally pointless to convince non-fans to get on board after missing the first two. For the most part, a Star Wars episode, augmented with swearing.
OK, lets get this over with. The last of this trilogy, soon to be followed by the Lord of the Rings capper, another Harry Potter, and somewhere in the sequel pipeline, the sixth and final Star Wars installment. The Wachowski Brothers dial down the myth-making and gear up the action, with a final show-down between the humans and the machines, and Neo and Mr. Smith.
Despite the huge battle scene, a certain fatigue has set in, with Laurence Fishburne being almost invisible and the Neo/Smith duel an anticlimax compared to their fight in Part Two. Even the ad campaign has seemed half-hearted, although that might be more a recognition of how needless it would be to sell this picture to the fans, or equally pointless to convince non-fans to get on board after missing the first two. For the most part, a Star Wars episode, augmented with swearing.
The Human Stain (IMDB) (Netflix)
Escaping who you are and what you’ve done is a futile exercise. Anthony Hopkins leads a cast of troubled individuals (Nicole Kidman, Ed Harris, Gary Sinise), each uniquely damaged. Hopkins’s back story problem is the focal point, as a victim of political correctness run amok, the irony becoming more pointed the more we learn about him and his past. Based on the novel by Philip Roth.
Which is the problem. For those familiar with the plot’s slowly revealed conceit, it’s clearly one that works better in print, where a reader’s imagination can carry the load, but the literal nature of film makes this a tough sell, despite stellar performances by Kidman (maybe not everyone’s favorite personality, but she’s got chops), Harris, and the kid playing the Hopkins character as a youth. The film’s literary lineage also mars the coda, with the screenwriter seemingly (I haven’t read the book) cowed by Roth’s influence into going unnecessarily expository. A highly intelligent and mature work for those who can tolerate a shaky premise.
Escaping who you are and what you’ve done is a futile exercise. Anthony Hopkins leads a cast of troubled individuals (Nicole Kidman, Ed Harris, Gary Sinise), each uniquely damaged. Hopkins’s back story problem is the focal point, as a victim of political correctness run amok, the irony becoming more pointed the more we learn about him and his past. Based on the novel by Philip Roth.
Which is the problem. For those familiar with the plot’s slowly revealed conceit, it’s clearly one that works better in print, where a reader’s imagination can carry the load, but the literal nature of film makes this a tough sell, despite stellar performances by Kidman (maybe not everyone’s favorite personality, but she’s got chops), Harris, and the kid playing the Hopkins character as a youth. The film’s literary lineage also mars the coda, with the screenwriter seemingly (I haven’t read the book) cowed by Roth’s influence into going unnecessarily expository. A highly intelligent and mature work for those who can tolerate a shaky premise.
Alien: the Director's Cut (IMDB) (Netflix)
Twenty-four years ago, Alien was the scariest space movie ever, spawning a trilogy and making Sigourney Weaver a star. It's now been re-released as a director's cut, not so much because it was a seminal bit of movie-making that the world needs to see again on the big screen, but because—that’s right—there’s an Alien vs. Predator cage match due next year, and the producers want to warm the youngsters up to the Alien franchise.
Not having seen the original in some time, I wasn’t sure what footage was added, but it sure wasn’t any more of Sigourney in her impractically skimpy briefs (that part is burned into the consciousness of many a male moviegoer of a certain age), and it seems like a long time before John Hurt hocks up the ultimate loogie, but Ian Holm is still outstanding as Ash, the crew member with a secret. A somewhat dated and cynical undertaking, but worth the trip for those who'd like to understand where dozens of imitators got their inspiration.
Twenty-four years ago, Alien was the scariest space movie ever, spawning a trilogy and making Sigourney Weaver a star. It's now been re-released as a director's cut, not so much because it was a seminal bit of movie-making that the world needs to see again on the big screen, but because—that’s right—there’s an Alien vs. Predator cage match due next year, and the producers want to warm the youngsters up to the Alien franchise.
Not having seen the original in some time, I wasn’t sure what footage was added, but it sure wasn’t any more of Sigourney in her impractically skimpy briefs (that part is burned into the consciousness of many a male moviegoer of a certain age), and it seems like a long time before John Hurt hocks up the ultimate loogie, but Ian Holm is still outstanding as Ash, the crew member with a secret. A somewhat dated and cynical undertaking, but worth the trip for those who'd like to understand where dozens of imitators got their inspiration.
Saturday, November 01, 2003
School of Rock (IMDB) (Netflix)
"Those who can't do, teach" and rocker Jack Black reinforces the stereotype, possessing an uncontestable love for the genre, but lacking the talent (or interpersonal skills) to take his band to pay-the-rent status. He finally gets fired by the band he founded, and out of desperation lands a gig as a substitute teacher at a snooty prep school run by Joan Cusack. Black has no absolutely interest in teaching his kids until he hits on a scheme to use these prodigies to get back into the music game. It's the old fish-out-of-water comedy vehicle, one that gives Black plenty of maneuvering room for his signature over-the-top comic intensity.
The only real tension here is between the formulaic story and Black's force of personality; which will win out? Cusack is the priggish principle who longs to be liked by her subordinates, Mike White is Black's buddy hen-pecked by bitch-on-wheels Sara Silverman, and the kids are instantly and universally lovable. In the other corner are Jack's mobile eyebrows and total lack of self-governance, which won over much of the audience, especially the kids, but for the harder hearts it was more like a standoff.
"Those who can't do, teach" and rocker Jack Black reinforces the stereotype, possessing an uncontestable love for the genre, but lacking the talent (or interpersonal skills) to take his band to pay-the-rent status. He finally gets fired by the band he founded, and out of desperation lands a gig as a substitute teacher at a snooty prep school run by Joan Cusack. Black has no absolutely interest in teaching his kids until he hits on a scheme to use these prodigies to get back into the music game. It's the old fish-out-of-water comedy vehicle, one that gives Black plenty of maneuvering room for his signature over-the-top comic intensity.
The only real tension here is between the formulaic story and Black's force of personality; which will win out? Cusack is the priggish principle who longs to be liked by her subordinates, Mike White is Black's buddy hen-pecked by bitch-on-wheels Sara Silverman, and the kids are instantly and universally lovable. In the other corner are Jack's mobile eyebrows and total lack of self-governance, which won over much of the audience, especially the kids, but for the harder hearts it was more like a standoff.
Saturday, October 25, 2003
Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (IMDB) (Netflix)
The cinematic descendent of movie violence stylist Sam Peckinpah has to be Quentin Tarantino, whose Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction made him the "it boy" director in the early-mid 90s. After some lesser efforts, he went on silent running for six years, but is making up for the absence with this two-parter. Volume One opens with Uma Thurman as the only survivor of a wedding-day hit squad, wanting payback and traveling the world to get it against Vivica A. Fox, Lucy Liu and the aforementioned Bill.
Peckinpah used slow motion and bits of hamburger in the fake blood squibs to give The Wild Bunch that little extra tingle, and Tarantino takes him one further, the predominant element being spurting, lots of spurting. Certainly not most people's brand of vodka, but there's also a fair amount of comedic leavening, and a heavy Japanese martial arts tone that somehow keeps this from becoming Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Thurman is one tough cookie, carrying all the action against a horde of Yakusa swordsfolk, and conveying an intensity heretofore lacking in her portfolio. Where Reservoir Dogs was overly sadistic and squirm-inducing, "Bill" is intentionally cartoonish, but still very messy, and the bouncing between gore and laughs is mostly, but not always, successful.
Those who abhore graphic violence won't be mollified by any of this analysis, nor should they, but the many who've acquired the thirst for "Q" will be happy he's back, and in form. Just don't ask for much in thematic take-aways.
The cinematic descendent of movie violence stylist Sam Peckinpah has to be Quentin Tarantino, whose Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction made him the "it boy" director in the early-mid 90s. After some lesser efforts, he went on silent running for six years, but is making up for the absence with this two-parter. Volume One opens with Uma Thurman as the only survivor of a wedding-day hit squad, wanting payback and traveling the world to get it against Vivica A. Fox, Lucy Liu and the aforementioned Bill.
Peckinpah used slow motion and bits of hamburger in the fake blood squibs to give The Wild Bunch that little extra tingle, and Tarantino takes him one further, the predominant element being spurting, lots of spurting. Certainly not most people's brand of vodka, but there's also a fair amount of comedic leavening, and a heavy Japanese martial arts tone that somehow keeps this from becoming Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Thurman is one tough cookie, carrying all the action against a horde of Yakusa swordsfolk, and conveying an intensity heretofore lacking in her portfolio. Where Reservoir Dogs was overly sadistic and squirm-inducing, "Bill" is intentionally cartoonish, but still very messy, and the bouncing between gore and laughs is mostly, but not always, successful.
Those who abhore graphic violence won't be mollified by any of this analysis, nor should they, but the many who've acquired the thirst for "Q" will be happy he's back, and in form. Just don't ask for much in thematic take-aways.
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