Saturday, April 26, 2008

Young@Heart (2007)

This one is only out in limited release right now but as soon as it comes anywhere near you, see it immediately.

It's the story of a chorus in Northhampton, MA whose members are an average of 81 years old. Their line-up of songs include some by Sonic Youth, The Clash, James Brown, and Coldplay. They're an impossible sweet, raunchy, funny group of grandparents and great-grandparents who obviously have a lot of fun singing these songs. There are some impossibly sad moments: Coldplay's "Fix You" kills me as it is but see it sung by a man solo when it was supposed to be a duet but his partner has died and it's just terribly sad and touching (and then add in his wife, who isn't in the chorus, singing along in the audience). Two of the members die during the movie and one died when the movie was in production. But there are also birthdays and girlfriends and the concert is incredible in terms of the audience's reaction. All in all, it's very touching and sweet and funny and the music isn't bad either.

The Forbidden Kingdom (2008)

Ugh. First, you can't make a Kung Fu movie for the youth without inevitable comparisons (I would think) to Karate Kid. And you cannot make a Kung Fu/Karate Kid movie with a doughy sloth-eyed prepubescent looking actor. The main-ish character is supposed to come of age and get all buff what with the kung fu and peace and whatnot and we see him with his shirt off and in a waterfall. Yick. My stomach turned. And he has a few chins. He's not really overweight but he is not fit. And I by no means believe that that child-man trained for months and months in ancient Chinese landscapes including a desert and a bamboo forest with any kung fu master much less two. Nor do I believe that the cute little Chinese girl who is also in their party falls for him. Nor do I believe that he became a competent fighter.

Second, do not have a character who always refers to herself in the third person. Just don't. It's annoying. It's cloying. It's useless. And if you absolutely must have her do this, don't have her use the first-person singular personal pronoun upon her death to proclaim her love for dough boy. Ich.

Third, don't break your own mythology. Just don't. You created it. Play by your own damn rules or don't bother creating them. You can't have a head immortal guy who comes back every 500 years to drink the immortality elixir so he can remain immortal and also have an immortal who doesn't need to drink the elixir every now and then. And you can't have them basically run out of elixir especially when the head immortal guy is due for his 500 year visit. You also can't have some immortal guys age and some not. That doesn't work. These are not difficult rules to maintain.

Fourth, get a better writer. "They say music is a bridge between heaven and earth" is not a good line. It's just not. Especially when delivered as if it's the most important information to be garnered from the movie. It's up there with "Finally I'll be able to stop living this double life."

Fifth, you have Jet Li and Jackie Chan. Make them fight each other more. Make them fight anything more. Stop showing us dough boy. He can't fight. Make the girl fight more. At least she has some grace.

Sixth, when the girl dies we need a better reason than she was pushed across the room. That doesn't exactly work when she's been fighting for the 10-15 minutes before she dies. And don't give her a pansy, revenge, my parents were killed by the bad-guy story. It's just stupid and demeaning.

Seventh, the bad guy in the contemporary world can't be more intriguing than the dough boy or the dough boy just looks doughier.

Don't bother with this one. Some of the fighting is cool but not enough to watch the whole movie. Look for clips on YouTube and mute any dialogue.

Into Great Silence (2005)

I struggled with whether to post this one and count it as "viewed." I only watched an hour of it before I just had to go to bed where I fell immediately and deeply asleep. If it were a 90 minute movie, ok that's 2/3 of the thing and if it's making me fall asleep--me who can will myself to stay awake to watch the most inane nonsense--then, fine, it's not good. But this movie is 169 minutes so I only watched about a third of the thing. But, still, I'm counting it as if I saw the whole thing because there is just no way in hell I'm going to be able to watch the rest.

The film follows a group of monks (what do you call a group of monks? do they have a cool name like murder of crows or smack of jellyfish or parliament of owls?) in the Grande Chartreuse (I know, it sounds like a gay bar with some fabulous neon but it's the real name of the head monastery of the reclusive Carthusian order of monks in France). We see the monks go to prayer.We see the monks read. We see the monks eat. We see the monks prepare meals. We see monks tend the garden. We see monks do laundry. We see monks initiate two new members, etc.

The trouble with all of this and why I had to give up and go to bed is that the Carthusian monks, or at least this branch of them, take a vow of silence. That's right. Virtually no talking for almost three hours. Not only that but there is no soundtrack or sound effect track or voice over track. The only noises are those produced by what you see (like a plate hitting the wall as it is jostled by wind, a page turning). Boring. Boring. Boring. I can admit to being a creature who needs sound. I require background noise to do anything. I can't drive without the radio on. I can't read without the tv or music on. I can't sleep without a noisy fan on. I require noise.

But I am capable of getting over that for brief periods--I'm sitting here now sans noise--but the trouble with this film is that it's not that visually interesting either. This guy is obviously of the plastic bag in American Beauty school of thought. We saw that plate drying and rocking at least a dozen times. We saw splotches of sun on the floor . . . for minutes at a time. For example, when the monks go to chant and it's pitch black in the whatever room it is they chant in, they guy focuses on the red emergency light bulb (just a bulb) because it's the only thing he can focus the camera on. It's the only source of light and he's not adding any. He couldn't split to another scene and retain the sound like any normal filmmaker--he had to stay with the monks chanting. Right. That's not interesting. It's just not. So, after an hour of me talking continuously through a movie, I went to bed.

I don't recommend seeing it unless you like silence or monks, a lot. I might recommend it if it were more informative as a documentary. All that would really take is a voice over track to tell me who this guy is, how long he's been a monk, what he does within the monastery, etc. They don't need to get the monks to talk. Hell, don't even do a voice over track, put it all in subtitles if you're concerned about the purity of sound or some nonsense. And they can't argue that subtitles would ruin it because, one, the camera is an artificial presence; two, the film features several points of the camera just staring at each of the monks for a few very awkward moments; and, three, a few camera filters or a couple of different sorts of cameras are used because some of the film is uber grainy and some is not so that's an artistic imposition. Anyway, that's my rant.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Shadowboxer (2005)

So, this one was on tv and not so much an active decision as an "ok this is on and seems odd and there's not much else on this time of night so . . . " Fair warning: I'm just going to give away the whole plot on this one.

Cuba Gooding Jr. is the son of a real bad dude who beats and kills Gooding's mother. Helen Mirren dated Gooding's dad and then killed him when he went to beat Gooding for crying over his dead mother (Gooding shot the image of his father in a mirror after his father beat his mother once). The twist is that Mirren and Gooding then become lovers. Right. So that's not the oddest thing about this one. Mirren has some sort of terminal cancer--I don't think we're told what sort but it's nasty but she can operate pretty much normally when not having to be in an "oh my god I have cancer and so I have to double over to show that I'm in pain and therefore dying" scene. Mirren and Gooding are contract killers. That's right. And that's not the oddest thing either. So Mirren and Gooding are hired by big bad mobster Stephen Dorff to kill a whole slew of his men and his wife (because she was presumably having an affair) who is dum dum dum pregnant (they try to hide that fact by keeping her in bed until she stands and about to be killed by Mirren--it doesn't so much work). Gooding and Mirren kill the bunch of lackeys and she is about to kill the wife when TA DA! she's pregnant so Mirren can't kill her. Gooding is not happy with this. He's the colder-blooded of the two apparently while Mirren has a maternal streak. And then, DRAMA!, the mobster's wife goes into labor and Mirren miraculously knows how to birth a child. So the kid is born--it's a boy (foreshadowing, shhhhh! don't tell)--and M&G take the wife and kid to a hotel. Joseph Gordon-Levitt then shows up as a doctor who will do "anything for Rose[Mirren]" but we're not sure why (maybe he's her son but that's never explained). Anyway, he shows up with Mo'Nique who is his bossy crack-whore girlfriend, he doctors the wife and baby and leaves. M&G take wife and baby to their home. Mirren mothers her--changing her hair, buying a crib, etc--while Gooding is moody and less than thrilled over the human aspect of the kill gone wrong. Mirren then decides they have to move to the country where she and wife take care of baby while Gooding still kills people and tries not to be involved in the family. Mirren makes it to the kid's first birthday (I would have thought she would have died if her cancer was so terrible since there was little evidence of therapy besides pain pills, booze, and whole ton of cigarettes) but then she apparently decides it's time to end it. In what looked like a dream sequence to me--it went all technicolor--Gooding and Mirren have sex in nature and as they climax, he shoots her in the head. Then he, in the nude, buries her and goes back to wife and baby. Mirren made him promise to do whatever wife says. Wife, kid, and Gooding then move to the suburbs where she is to go back to school to do something in the psychology field and G can still be a contract killer. Right. The kid loves Gooding who teaches him to shadowbox (oh, right--G trains in boxing although there was no evidence he actually boxed) and makes him breakfast. The sexual tension mounts--they make sure we know this by showing Gooding in the shower and wife day-dreaming about masturbating while watching him in the shower (the door was wide open and the shower door clear, of course). Right. So then the suburban fairy tale has to end, of course. Wife tells G that it's time to leave after he cleans a gun with the door open and she sees the kid watching him. G says "whatever you say" and goes on a kill to give her some money to live on. Then he suddenly shows us he's grown a conscious because after he kills the guy he sees that the guy was a dad and that makes him sad. So sad he cries on wife's shoulder and he says he wants to stay and they have sex and she says he can stay. Ok. Meanwhile, cracked out Mo'Nique catches Joseph Gordon Levitt performing oral sex on a woman on whom he should be performing a pap smear. Mo'Nique freaks out, causes more of a scene than there already was, and then goes to tell bad mobster husband guy that his wife isn't dead and that she's living with the contract killer. Bad husband guy then kills Mo'Nique and JGL for their efforts. So then Gooding goes to get info for another kill and it's photos of him, wife, and kid in their suburban bliss. He tries to call home but the phone rings a lot and then when wife wakes up from her nap to answer the phone a bad mob guy answers. Oh no. So the contract killer knows that there is at least one bad guy with a gun in his house (but probably multiple bad guys), he knows the bad guys are after his wife and kid, he knows the layout of his house, he's a trained killer and boxer, and yet, somehow, he ends up chained to a chair in his basement. Right. So wife pleads with former husband bad guy not to kill the kid because the kid is really his. Kid pleads with Gooding, "you're my daddy, right?" Bad former husband guy snips of one of Goodings fingers with hedge trimmers and then Gooding breaks from his restraints as the bad former husband guy goes after wife and kid. Bad former husband guy and Gooding fight and the bad former husband guy is shot . . . .dum, dum dum, the kid shot him mirroring the mirror-shooting scene with Gooding earlier (yay! for bookends). So Gooding shoots the rest of the bad guys (but not before asking bad former husband guy if he's proud of the kid) and then joins wife and kid in the car where they were told to wait. The speed off and Gooding says they'll have to be careful because there might be more bad guys. The kid says they'll just have to kill them and Gooding tears up. Sniff. And that's all in just 93 minutes.

Ugh. It's definitely a thing. I'm just not sure it's worth watching.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008)

After a failed attempt to go to the movies Friday, we finally made it on Saturday although the theater was packed almost to capacity half an hour before the movie making it a little difficult to find a seat. Anyway, the movie was super fun but I love Apatow movies. This one is supposed to be his more "girl-friendly" movie. It is a bit calmer in terms of gross-out scenes but it doesn't hold back on the sex jokes or full-frontal shots of Jason Segel. It's your basic romantic comedy plot--boy and girl are together, girl leaves boy for another boy, boy has to find himself in order to love again--but the comedy used to reach those plot points is super fun. The only thing I could have done without is the scene between Kristen Bell and Jason Segel in which she tells him why she left him . . . . too much seriousness. It's a definite must-see, another Apatow triumph.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Next (2007)

Really!?! This movie is INANE. And my watching it is Joel's fault. It was on when I got home from the grocery store. I'd missed about 15 minutes of the beginning or so but apparently I didn't miss much.

Nic Cage is a Las Vegas magician (this is the part I missed) who can see a whole 2 minutes into the future. Oh boy. Then he sees this girl in a vision. Enter Jessica Biel. Who, I must mention, is a full 18 years younger than Cage. He "saves" her from a stalker of an ex boyfriend in a restaurant (it's completely beside the fact that Cage is there because he's stalking her, too), she offers to drive him to ?? Tulsa?? somewhere, they get a hotel after she shows him that she teaches on an Indian reservation at the Grand Canyon (so we know she's a caring, good person), they get a hotel (he chivalrously says he'll sleep in the car--HER car), but they have sex the next morning as she's walking around in a towel soaking wet from the shower. Right. Supposedly she has a brain because at the restaurant where she encounters both stalkers, Cage runs through several scenarios of introducing himself to her and she rejects all of them with pseudo-witty lines that are deft enough to make his pretend self go away and think of a new idea. But, noooooo, when faced with Cage's obvious sex appeal and wonderfully fake hair, she just can't contain herself. Clearly. Anyway, the Feds are after him because some bad guys have smuggled a HUGE nuclear bomb into LA and plan to detonate it ASAP and they need Cage to tell them where it is--a whole two minutes before it blows up the west coast. Right. Meanwhile the bad guys are also after Cage for some reason unknown to the audience. Sooooo. We run through one LOOOOONG painful scenario and then it turns out badly (in that the nuclear bomb is detonated) so we learn that it was just Cage going through it in his head--apparently we aren't following the two minute rule anymore. So we're back at the hotel post-coital. Cage starts a new scenario, we can only take a wild guess as to whether this one is real or not. Meanwhile, we've been suffering through terrible dialogue (of the quality that even Julianne Moore can't act around), broken rules, random special effects that change with a whim every time Cage sees into the future (strange noises, multiple Cages, etc.).

This may be the worst movie ever made. Really. Ever.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

The Son's Room (2001)

It was the night of psychoanalysts whose children die. This one is leaps and bounds better than Lantana--probably due to the fact that this one seemed to have a point and a unifying theme whereas the other was just an amalgamation of bad marriages. This one is Italian and is about a psychoanalyst's, Giovanni, family and what happens when a son dies suddenly. The film centers mainly on Giovanni but offers a good deal of time to his wife Paola and daughter Irene both before and after Andreas' death and also gives us enough of Andreas that we understand the loss felt in the family. What I think might work best in this case is that the death comes almost squarely in the middle of the film so the story is not wholly consumed by the death and the second half is rendered all of the more powerful. And, for being so simple and focusing on only four characters, it's an intricate story filled with details.

All of that said, it's a decent movie but I wouldn't run out to see it again. I didn't feel the mother's emotion when she's wailing over her dead son the way I felt Angelina Jolie wail in A Mighty Heart. The same passion just isn't there. But it is an interesting look at a therapist and how he has to juggle his work and his family life when both end up being so personal and how the therapist has to learn to seek help himself.

Lantana (2001)

Who knew Anthony LaPaglia was Australian? Not me. And his accent wavers so much in the film that it doesn't offer certain evidence either.

This one is a list movie. I'm not sure why it's on the list. Maybe they just needed to represent the continent somehow. It begins with a long-ish shot looking through a jungle of lantana plants in which we see a dead female body. We never find out who this woman is. Of the two characters who die in the film, one dies and is found before the film's present and the other drowns--neither ends up in lantana bushes.

It's about four married couples--none of their marriages really function--whose lives intersect, sort of. LaPaglia is a police officer, Leon, who is married to Sonja but cheats on her with Jane even though he claims to still love his wife. Jane is separated from her husband Pete and she's a bit of a nuisance, spying on her neighbors and whatnot. Pete is friends with her neighbor Nik who is married to Paula (with three or four kids) and who is seen tossing a shoe in the lantana jungle across the street from his house by Jane (who then calls the police, Leon). Meanwhile, Sonja (Leon's wife) is secretly seeing psychiatrist Valerie (Barbara Hershey--whose American accent in the sea of Australian accents is never explained) whose daughter was murdered (before the movie's present) and who is married to John (Geoffery Rush). Their marriage is in shambles thanks to the murder and she thinks he's seeing a man on the side.

It's not very interesting and it's not even as convoluted as all of that sounds. And it's two hours long.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Shine a Light (2008)

Mick Jagger is 64 (65 in July). Keith Richards is 64. Charlie Watts is 66 (67 in June). And Ronnie Wood is the baby at 60 (61 in June). They each have more energy than I do.

Despite my general hesitance to watch concert films, I really enjoyed this one. It's not the "career spanning" documentary or the "look behind the scenes" of documentary film making that it's purported to be. There is archive footage between some of the songs to fill in a tad bit of history and the beginning offers the viewer a glimpse that is the relationship between the organized and prepared Scorsese and the c'est la vie Rolling Stones but, otherwise, it's just a damned good concert. What makes this one worth watching (besides the fact that the music is good, we'll leave that as a forgone conclusion) is that the viewer really gets to see the interaction between these guys on stage. The four of them have been a band since 1974 when Wood joined (the other three have been together since 1962 with a few members rotating in and out) and they obviously have as much fun together now as they did forty-plus years ago. What's amazing to me is how this film manages to make these rock gods look like normal guys who just rock out in their garage. Charlie Watts seems bemused by the whole thing. Mick Jagger obviously just likes to dance (or his version thereof anyway--it AMAZES me when people who sing and play instruments lack any sense of rhythm or bodily coordination). Ronnie Wood and Keith Richards just want to play guitars, any guitars, on any song (as illustrated by their pre-concert comments about really being excited to see what they were going to play--I'm talking about just before the concert). And Richards seems like the nicest, albeit perhaps sort of confused, guy ever. He gives away all of his guitar picks (even if he's mid-song) by placing them in the palms of audience members, not just tossing them out, and he gives guest Buddy Guy the guitar he played during the song. Richards also sings two songs and is very cute about it. He comes out in a long overcoat with a Pirates of the Caribbean pin on the front and seems to prefer to go stand by Wood as he plays guitar than be in front of the microphone without a guitar. Meanwhile, Richards tosses in some incredibly funny one-liners throughout the film. My one and only complaint about the movie is this: I was so thrilled that Scorsese chose to place the archive footage between songs instead of interrupting the songs but, for whatever reason, he chose to interrupt one and only one song, one of the two Keith Richards sang. I could have done without the end (post-concert) contrivance but I'll get over that.

I was amused by their song choices, though. This was apparently part of a charity thing for Bill Clinton and the environment or something. So, Bill, Hilary, Chelsea, Hilary's mom, etc. are in attendance (oh, that's my other slight complaint: we see these people before the concert and never again--I would have liked even a brief checking-in with them). Jagger includes "Brown Sugar," "Sympathy for the Devil," "Live with Me" (which included a little bump and grind with Christina Aguilera), and the song Buddy Guy sang with them, "Champagne and Reefer." I don't think they should have changed a thing--I just think it's amusing, that's all.

Anyway, you should see it and see it in a theater. Now.

C.S.A.: The Confederate States of America (2004)

Eh. This one is ok. But just ok. It's a satire set up as an "alternative history" of the US: what would have happened had the South won the Civil War and slavery were still a nationwide practice. The first third or so of the film offers a deft commentary in terms of a one-to-one comparison (Jefferson Davis was actually caught in drag, in the film Abraham Lincoln is caught in black-face) but once we get past the first part of the twentieth century, the history gets a little sketchy and lacks the tight comparisons that make the first part good. There is also a storyline running throughout the movie of the Fauntroy family from the Civil War to the present: this was flat and seemed trite and contrived to make a cohesive "personal" story out of what could have been sustained by a tighter historical satire. The "documentary" is split into sections by commercials, some of which are for actual products but this info is not divulged until the end of the film. The pinpoints of reality dotting the film, when it all looks equally outrageous, is interesting but doesn't save the film. Overall, it's an interesting look at "what could have happened" while showing us the some of the seemingly ridiculousness is real but it lacks the deftness to sustain the running time.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Leatherheads (2008)

Ugh. I really cannot stand Renee Zellweger. I am certain that her face got wider at the jaw as the film went on and her knees are the strangest looking knees I've seen, especially when in red tights. I am, however, a huge fan of Tracey Ullman who does a fantastic impersonation of Zellweger on her new show, "State of the Union." (If you Google the show, the official website has a little clip of her doing the impression).

Regardless of her, the movie wasn't all that great. But how could it be when the two main male characters are supposed to be completely and immediately enamored with squinty-eyes? That's not one bit realistic or probable. I am a fan of Clooney, of course, and John Krasinski even won me over here--although I still think he looks goofy on "The Office." If they'd just stuck with the football and the George/John interactions I would have liked it better. But they absolutely needed to find a better woman to play Zellweger's role. Apparently Reese Witherspoon was mentioned as a better option . . . I think Cate Blanchett would have been good, hell maybe even Sarah Jessica Parker (she looks fun and snarky in the Smart People previews), or why not someone like Amy Poehler or Tina Fey who are actual comediannes? Or Julia Louis-Dreyfus? Or Amy Adams? Or Christina Appelgate? Or . . . . . anyone but Renee Zellweger!

Black Book (2006)

Boo: one vomit scene, two (connected) fecal matter scenes, one bullet extraction scene

The rest of the movie is great, though. It's not good for women really but the main character ends up ok. It's the story of Rachel/Ellis who is a Jewish woman in WWI Netherlands who hides from and then infiltrates the Nazi party. The plot is fairly straightforward while allowing for complications to make the storyline really interesting--which I think more difficult than a twisty-turny plot. Nothing seems lost in this one. The characters are also compelling which was a difficult feat because their alliances are hazy, their motives questionable, and their actions sometimes despicable. The movie also held my attention throughout which is quite the accomplishment since the thing is two and a half hours long.

Now I want to do a honey-pot class with this one and Lust, Caution. I do have one question about honey-pot movies/fiction, though: are there any in which the honey-pot does not fall in love with her mark?

Friday, April 4, 2008

Lust, Caution by Eileen Chang (1979)

I read this one because I really liked the film and am always curious about how a text translates to screen (and I actually read it the other week but got sidetracked by St. Louis and forgot about blogging). I sooooo want to teach my film adaptations class again and include this one. This is only a novella, fewer than 70 pages. I think the film and novella play very well together but I do think the film needs to be seen before the novella read--which is the opposite of what I would normally say, I think. The film is very very true to the novella but expands it and adds details that are not included in the book, making it a much more complicated story. It's really unusual for film adaptations to not only do a super fantastic job of translating a text but also make the plot more complicated in a way honestly feels as if the original author had written it herself. The novella itself is very simple with the only real trouble I had being the Chinese names (but the film actually helps here because I had a face to go with most of the names already, making them more easily distinguished). Anyway, this is the sort of book that makes you want to chase after the author's other books to see what might be out there . . .

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Me and You and Everyone We Know (2005)

This one is . . . . well . . . . it's interesting. I think I've read one of her short stories or an article by her and seen some of her art but I've not seen any of her films or video art. I just don't know about it. I don't dislike it but I don't know what to do with it exactly. Like that Christmas present from your great aunt you never see who thinks you need this thing because the saleslady at the store said all the kids had them? And the thing is interesting but you've no idea what to do with it. This is sort of the movie equivalent.

It's an ensemble story with sort-of interlocking plots. A white shoe-salesman separating from his black wife (her idea) tried to connect to their children but can't and then sets his hand on fire in front of their house at their bedroom window. The kids spend time at his new apartment while he's at work chatting online to a woman about supposedly sexy topics (ugh. ick.). The younger boy keeps up the chatting in what seems a sophisticated manner for a six year old and ends up meeting the woman who is the museum curator. An artist (July) is lonely, drives an elderly man around, and stalks the shoe salesman after he sells her a pair of pink shoes. The neighbor girl (next door to the shoe salesman's apartment) is off her rocker and collects towel sets (which she irons) and misc to keep in her hope chest--she connects to the older son after having spied on him while two strange neighborhood girls gave him blowjobs so he could rate them. The neighborhood girls are having some strange relationship with the shoe salesman's coworker who also lives in the apartment complex--he leaves notes on his window about what he would do with them if they were 18. The artist tries to get some of her work in the local art museum but she's snubbed until she's a bit clever and addresses the curator personally in her art. Then the artist and the shoe salesman sort of get together. And the six year old is odd and the older boy buys a stuffed animal for the neighbor girl's hope chest.

I just don't know what to do with any of that. I like the commentary on the contemporary art scene and what passes for art now. But I don't know what to do with some of the sweet moments in the movie that are obviously rooted in very disturbing actions: the stalking ending up in a relationship; the online sex chat with a six year old ending up in a sweet moment where she strokes his face, gives him a kiss, and walks off; the self-immolation ending up in a sort of freedom . . . . . . . . I just don't get what the movie is trying to tell me.