The Artist

Homages are always a tricky thing to pull off. You want to celebrate what you’re paying homage to, but you also want to make something your own as well. Sometimes it works well, like in the case of Woody Allen’s “Everyone Always Says I Love You” which of course was an homage to musicals, and was itself a musical. Examples where it doesn’t work, in my opinion, would be J. J. Abrams’ mindless “Super 8″ which attempts to capture Spielberg at his best and wound up just capturing his own self indulgence.

In Michel Hazanavicius’s new film “The Artist”, he pays homage to the silent film era. This certainly is a case where the homage works with flying colors (pardon the expression). The film starts in 1927 and focuses on a successful silent film era star named George Valentin (played wonderfully by Jean Dujardin), who has just premiered his latest success when one of his admirers has a chance encounter with him at the premiere. An eye catching beauty, Peppy Miller (played equally wonderfully by Berenice Bejo) winds up bumping into him while he’s getting publicity photos taken. To enhance the moment, he leans in and gives her a kiss, igniting a storm of curiosity–”Who’s that Girl?”

Peppy winds up auditioning for a bit part in an upcoming film with Valentin as a dancer, and winds up becoming a star herself. Valentin’s life begins to come apart as the years go by, however, with a wife that he doesn’t love, nor does she love him (played by Penelope Ann Miller) kicks him out after his career’s fallen apart due to the introduction of “talkies” and the death of silent cinema. Determined to remain a silent actor, Valentin makes his own film which is a bomb; meanwhile, Peppy’s starring in a film that becomes a huge hit. Valentin fires his long time butler (played by James Cromwell) after suffering not only his film career collapse, but also the stock market crash of 1929, and lives by himself with his cute little dog in an apartment. One night, in a fit of anger after watching reels of his glory days, he sets fire to them and the whole apartment catches fire.

He’s rescued in a Lassie-like moment by his dog, and is taken care of by Peppy to somewhat his dismay. He also sees that she’s collected all of his possessions that he had to put up for auction to keep himself afloat financially. He is the ultimate “tormented” artist and hits rock bottom pretty hard when he realizes he has nothing left to give the world of cinema. But Peppy has a few ideas…

The film’s plot is simple, and the delivery is straight forward. But it’s done with such grace, such a light touch, that it’s instantly charming and very amusing. It takes a few minutes to perfectly set yourself in accordance to “silent film” mode; but once you’re there, you hardly notice that it’s a silent film at all and enjoy it as a film itself. That’s really the key to why this film is so good. As an homage, it does everything right. The expressions of the actors are big and over the top, and Dujardin has an instant appeal and a throwback look to him that it’s almost as if they plucked him from the silent era and plopped him in. The same could be said about his co-star, Bejo, who with one flap of  her eyebrows has you melting in your seat.

Now, I thought to myself, if this were a regular “talkie” film, would it have been as good? Sure, it would’ve had all the elements to make it good. It would have been satisfying, I think. But something big would be missing. And the fact that it is silent is what gives it such power. We are nearly a century removed from that era. That would be like giving someone an Apple IIe computer and say, “Here, use this.” We’re so used to talking in films, and explosions and special effects–to strip that all away, except for a musical track (that itself goes silent a few times for effect in the film), could have been a huge miscalculation. But Hazanavicius has such a love for that era, you can tell, and his passion shines through. The film never drags, although the third act does begin to feel a bit familiar and a tad repetitive; by the time you’re aware of that, however, it ends, and leaves you with a big smile on your face.

This isn’t just a celebration of silent film; it’s a celebration of film in general. Its simple message of staying true to yourself as an artist and things will pay off echoes warmly rather than flatly; and its sincerity and earnest performances save it from being corny or hokey.

It’s also a treat to see names like John Goodman and Malcolm McDowell (although he’s only in a bit role) bring something to the “silent era” as well, as their faces are so recognizable–it was interesting to see them, and not really hear them. In fact, there are only 2 moments in the whole film in which you can hear sound. Both scenes work extremely well, I thought, and are not at all distracting. The music accompaniment is a great companion as well. In fact, the whole film is a piece of music, and every note is pitch perfect.

My rating:

J. Edgar

Clint Eastwood has quite the challenge here: take one of the most unlikable persons of 20th century American history, and make a movie about him that paints him in a kind of sympathetic light. Now, we all know that J. Edgar Hoover should be credited with inventing the FBI. Mulder and Scully wouldn’t exist without him. But beyond that, in some cases Hoover used the same kind of subservice tactics to apprehend criminals that they used to be criminals in the first place. Not to mention that Hoover never seemed to ever recognize organized crime, which was rampant during his tenure as the big guy behind the desk. He also invented a lot of stories about his adventurous exploits that were total fiction. In essence, we have a very careful, paranoid, and highly insecure man at the center of this biopic.

Now, Eastwood enlists a good cast of actors to take care of things. Leonard DiCaprio, who has had an up and down career since “Titanic”; but he has still had some powerful performances (“Shutter Island” comes instantly to mind), and after acclimating yourself to the somewhat off-putting accent in the beginning moments of the film as DiCaprio narrates as an aging J. Edgar, he does wind up sewing together a very solid portrait of who J. Edgar Hoover was as a person. He really does eventually become him, in a way I haven’t seen DiCaprio do with a biographical character. He tried it in “The Aviator”, but that performance was somewhat stilted by a banal screenplay and a director who was going through the motions. He was better at it in “Catch Me If You Can”, but I still felt that as a boyish looking actor, he was miscast for someone who was consistently mistaken for being older than he was.

Here, once you get past the awkward accent and the extremely bad make-up, you really lose consciousness of DiCaprio as an actor, and see him as simply J. Edgar Hoover.

Unfortunately for the film, it doesn’t go much beyond that. Dustin Lance Black pens the screenplay, but his talents were much better suited for the superior “Milk”, a film about an overt homosexual man who was a prominent figure in civil rights for gays during his time, and made it even better by not just making it about Milk, but about adversity and insecurity of homophobic straight men. But here, Black unfortunately doesn’t have a lot of evidence to work with while building the narrative arc for J. Edgar Hoover because, unfortunately, his personal file was shredded at the time of his death. So Black does what he can, and while he does paint a very interesting story about a man conflicted, it just doesn’t transcend the bigger question: Why did J. Edgar become what he was, and why did he do the things he did? And I’m not just talking about wearing a dress. That actually is somewhat answered (and is actually one of the better scenes in the film). The men in Hoover’s life prove to be more influential to him, except for his mother (played by Judi Dench) who shapes some of his personal issues, at the same time giving him confidence about his professional endeavors. The other woman, Helen Gandy, his assistant (played by Naomi Watts), has less influence on him but is never too far from him.

Professionally, Hoover was a very questionable person. He seemed to contradict himself, and go after Communism at a Joe McCarthy level of enthusiasm–but considered McCarthy as less than his equal. He stood by the presidents he served, but he challenged the political powers that be to gain more power for himself and become his own boss. Really, by the time Nixon was president, he was his own shadow.

Except, personally–he did have a shadow, in Clyde Tolson (played wonderfully by Armie Hammer). Tolson’s older self also suffers from bad make-up–probably the worst make-up I’ve ever seen applied to someone outside of a cheap Haunted Corn Maze ride. But credit Hammer with bringing as much credibility to someone in badly applied makeup as I’ve ever seen. Tolson is someone that J. Edgar Hoover admired and trusted in; but more than that, allegedly, he may have even loved deeper than a platonic friendship. Now, there’s never been any real evidence that this was true. But Dustin Lance Black’s screenplay doesn’t necessarily try to make something out of nothing. Tolson and Hoover have a very strong professional relationship as well. And some of the ways they spend time with each other, you can’t help but wonder. There’s a climactic scene between the two of them (calm down, it’s not what you think) that really shows what both of those men really are. Tolson is more brave, more resolute, more honest. Hoover is a coward.

Maybe that’s what Eastwood wanted to show, and I guess that’s the point. But can we really sympathize with Hoover, knowing what we know professionally about him? That really isn’t exploited in the film; it deals too much with his personal inner conflicts. I think that’s a misstep. Hoover became a power monger himself, and the film spends too much time giving him credit for the Lindbergh baby incident–not enough time exposing some of the fraudulent things he did. In fact, in the scene showing his file being shredded, there’s a sort of comical tone to it as if we’re supposed to laugh it off.

Well, that really shouldn’t be shrugged off. It’s because of that that we really don’t get the whole story with Hoover. Ultimately, while all the dressing and sides are good, the meat of the meal is very thin and stringy. And even with the strong performances, the film fails at its core.

To me, Clint Eastwood is losing a little bit of his grip on some of his later films. He used to really execute with a quiet brilliance. “A Perfect World” and of course “Mystic River” come to mind. But now, he seems to be just collecting a paycheck instead of having a vision. I hope he reverts to his old self, because he’s one of the finest directors out there now. But he should be aptly criticized when he doesn’t live up to his potential.

My rating:

Tower Heist

Oh those heist movies. Cute little capers. I don’t think you can go too wrong when you involve Eddie Murphy in them; and even though this one is fairly standard with its typical implausabilities and somewhat thin characters, it is rather entertaining. I call movies like these “getaway movies”. Normally these come out in the summer or around the holidays. This one’s a little early. This would be a great movie to leave the Holiday family woes behind and just enjoy 2 hours of peace and a few laughs. But if you’d still like to get away for 2 hours of your real life (do you still have leaves to rake? that annoying cousin’s birthday party to attend?), then I’d still recommend seeing it.

Just to be clear, it’s not all that great. The concept is similar to “Oceans 11″ (which is a better film): a group of charismatic people get together to pull of a robbery. In this case, it’s not elites, it’s average joes. Ben Stiller plays Josh, the building manager of The Tower, a luxurious hotel in New York City. He’s rather mild mannered and well liked by his employees that include Charlie (Casey Affleck), Dev’reaux (Michael Pena), and Odessa (Gabourey Sidibe). He’s also well liked by an extremely wealthy client, Arthur Shaw (Alan Alda), who winds up being caught in a Ponzi scheme that winds up including all of them in his losses. The fraudulent money he threw around was used by Josh to put into their pensions, leaving them all with nothing. Lester (well played by Stephen Henderson), the doorman, attemps suicide, and it strikes a chord with Josh who wants to do the right thing and get their money back. The problem is, he takes out his angst on Shaw’s prized possession: a Ferrari 250. So now Shaw, who believes he will be found innocent, wants to charge Josh and that little incident also costs him his job. It also costs Charlie’s and Dev’reaux’s. Charlie’s upset because his wife is pregnant and he needs to work.

But Josh believes Shaw is guilty, and teams up with some oddfellows to rob Shaw of some misplaced money after a drunken evening with an FBI agent, Claire Denham (Tea Leoni), leads to her leaking information about a safe being in Shaw’s penthouse suite somewhere.

Josh enlists Mr. Fitzhugh (Matthew Broderick) who was recently evicted from the building because he’s broke and was fired from Merrill Lynch, and a guy he knows from crossing paths every morning (and his childhood, apparently), named Slide (played by Eddie Murphy).

So you have the ingredients for a fun little caper. Enough of it works to be enjoyable. I wish it wouldn’t have relied so much on the standard issue heist plot; but I suppose in the hands of someone like Brett Ratner, what can you really expect? The performances are all well done, but of course the stand out is Eddie Murphy. In recent years, I thought he should scale it back a bit and maybe take a supporting role in something to get back on his feet. Seeing him here, where he’s most comfortable being a fast-talking criminal who still can light up the screen, made me want to see more of him. He’s just underused for some reason.

This script was originally intended for an all black cast that included Murphy, Chris Rock and Dave Chappelle in which a group of employees attempt to rob the Trump Plaza. In a way, I wish that would’ve been made instead of this. With some of the edgy comedians in it, perhaps Eddie Murphy would’ve still been lost in the shuffle; but you’ve got great supporting actors there. Not to say that Broderick and Stiller can’t hold their own–but their characters just don’t allow them to do much, either. And both actors play their characters completely straight; something I don’t think we’d see out of guys like Rock or Chappelle, or Tracy Morgan (another rumored star attached).

Some of the rewrites included screenwriter Ted Griffin, whose work I’ve always been impressed with (including “Ravenous”, “Best Laid Plans”, and of course, “Oceans 11″), and you can see some of his sharp wit and dialog fused in the script. With some of the characters, good dialog is necessary. Obviously, with Murphy, the guy could write his own and improv.

A lot of the climax is hard to believe, and I still think they missed an opportunity to make a Ferris/Ferrari joke somewhere seeing as how they cast Matthew Broderick who isn’t exactly Mr. Movie Star anymore (and that film is celebrating its 25th anniversary this year).

But again, this is not a very creative director at the helm. And so we’re left with a fairly garden variety film that is amusing enough to pass; but I think we could’ve been in for a lot more treats.

My rating:

Anonymous

I’m going to go ahead and assume you’ve all heard of William Shakespeare. His timeless tales like “Hamlet”, “Romeo & Juliet”, and “Macbeth” have been performed probably thousands of times, and adapted multiple times, even in modern film. So many times, I’d say, that a lot of the luster is lost in some cases because we’re almost too familiar with the subject matter.

But while the stories may have resonated and will most likely be considered some of the greatest of all time, the man William Shakespeare still remains quite a mystery. Not much is known to the average person about Shakespeare’s life. There is a growing popular theory that Shakespeare wasn’t actually the author at all of these plays, and Sonnets. He was rather a charlatan, an actor, who took credit for these writings where he himself was illiterate and a bit of an idiot.

That’s the premise, at least, for Roland Emmerich’s new film, “Anonymous”, a film that tries to debunk the idea that William Shakespeare was indeed, The Bard. I thought the choice of Emmerich to direct was an odd one; he’s not only known for his blustery action yarns (“Independence Day”, “Stargate”, “The Day After Tomorrow”), but he’s also on record as not even really being a fan of Shakespeare’s plays. And so I walked in with a bit of trepidation, just hoping that the script (which was written and circulated around the time of “Shakespeare in Love”) would be enough to not be ruined by Emmerich’s aloof detachment from the material.

Unfortunately, I was right to have my doubts. The film stars Rhys Ilfans as an aristocrat named Edward De Vere, and he is supposedly the actual author of the plays that would come to be known as Shakespeare’s. Shakespeare himself (played very Tom Hulce in “Amadeus”-like by Rafe Spall) is an actor that doesn’t really care about much except money and living a hedonistic lifestyle. De Vere has a torrid love affair with Elizabeth I (played by Vanessa Redgrave as the elder Elizabeth, Joely Richardson as the younger) who loves his plays and falls in love with his way with words and his romance. Alas, their love affair is frowned upon. De Vere was originally taken in as a boy by a long time Baron of Elizabeth, William Cecil. De Vere becomes Cecil’s ward, alongside Cecil’s full blooded son Robert, who is jealous of De Vere’s ability to swoon.

The plot is complicated to say the least. We’re initially introduced to Ben Jonson, who was an important writer of that time (and well played, if a little gruffly by Sebastian Armesto) though you’d never know it from this film. Jonson is hiding the plays of De Vere to protect his name, and is interrogated to give up the name of who was behind the plays. We’re then taken back 5 years to see Jonson approached by De Vere who had attended one of his plays, to take De Vere’s plays and enjoy the success he’s sure to have by taking the credit. Jonson, unsure of himself and seemingly wanting his own work to be accepted rather than just taking someone else’s, instead passes the plays along to the boastful and arrogant William Shakespeare, who’s acted in a few of his plays. Shakespeare loves the limelight and the money he gets, but he isn’t told by Jonson who actually wrote the plays.

The intrigue grows as another rival, Christopher Marlowe, finds out about Shakespeare’s secret; the next thing you know, Marlowe’s no more. Meanwhile, De Vere has a troubled marriage with his wife Anne, who is the daughter of William Cecil, who wanted De Vere to lead a noble lifestyle and carry on his name, which we find has a long history (that involves Elizabeth) and needs to be carried on. De Vere, though, could never truly commit to Anne, and his love affair with Elizabeth could ruin the reputation of everyone. And his writing is looked down upon by Anne and William. De Vere complicates thing by impregnating Elizabeth, and then while Elizabeth is away, has an affair with someone resembles her. Elizabeth banishes him from the court, and De Vere is alone. He still has his work. He just doesn’t have the credit.

The film shifts between Jonson’s unsure self image and De Vere’s unsure legacy; but it never really comes together thematically. Instead of being moved by the complications of the plot, we’re left behind; only to try and play catch up while the film keeps going. There are all sorts of characters that are introduced, then forgotten about, then shown again, and we’re supposed to keep track of all of them all the while not really being sure of anyone’s actual motivations. It turns out to be just another Elizabethan costume drama, where everybody’s all dressed up with nowhere to go.

To be fair, it does help if you are already familiar with some of these characters in their own right. Ben Jonson is probably the key player to understand. It’s important to note that Jonson was known as one of the great writers of his era. However, if you don’t know who Jonson is, you won’t get to know him much by this film. And there aren’t any inside jokes that people that do know about the era to keep you interested. There is a scene toward the end when De Vere wants to genuinely know what Jonson thought of his plays…I think the answer, like a lot of this film most likely, was total fiction. He was actually, like Emmerich, not a huge fan of Shakespeare’s.

Fiction is fine, though, if it’s done well. “Shakespeare in Love” is a great example of having fun with Shakespearean plays, as well as telling a fun story. It’s great entertainment. This, however, seems labored and slow. While the acting is strong, the characters never seem to really come to life as they should have. The fact that this script laid around so long made me think that the poor screenwriter was doomed by too many Elizabethan projects (seriously, how many movies about Queen Elizabeth have there been in the past 10 years or so?). Now I’m wondering if it was because the script itself wasn’t very strong.

The best moments, I suppose fittingly, are the ones where we see Shakespeare’s immortal plays acted out in the little theatres in England, including Shakespeare’s own once he’s bribed his way into getting one (and his own coat of arms). It is a reminder that it’s the words that are important, not so much who wrote them. And that’s what the film is striving for as a theme–but while that element is obvious and the point is taken, nothing else in the film explores that. For example, we don’t get a sense that it was important that Ben Jonson was the writer of his own plays vs. De Vere never getting to amount to anything because of his poor judgment and by being a victim of his own romance.

What makes this a major disappointment is that the premise is a very strong one. It’s not like there’s going to be a subgenre of “Who Was William Shakespeare REALLY?”. Of course, there’s the possibility of the mockbuster version, probably called “Unnamed”. But that probably won’t star anybody bigger than Joe Estevez (some may argue a film cannot star Joe Estevez, however). So we are left with this disappointing film, which still doesn’t really answer the question it asks in the ad (“Was Shakespeare a Fraud?”) because there really isn’t any evidence that any of this is true. It accomplishes nothing as an historical drama; and it accomplishes nearly as much as being a dramatic drama.

Maybe if this film had half the heart of The Bard did(whoever he may be) we’d have a truly great tribute to one of the greatest writers of all time. Instead, it’s just a hollow effort that leaves one unmoved. To be or not to be. Not to be. (thank you, Jack Slater)

My rating:

Munger Road

The horror genre has always been kind of a side joke it seems in the grand scheme of things as far as Hollywood is concerned. It is always interesting to me, though, that many actors get their start in horror films (Johnny Depp, Jennifer Aniston, Kevin Bacon to name a few). But probably 80% of them aren’t critically praised, and even blockbuster hits are seen as just “fun bad entertainment”.

These days, the horror genre is completely dominated by remakes to the point that it’s almost become its own sub-genre. With big franchises like “Friday the 13th”, “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”, and “A Nightmare on Elm Street” already having been re-booted, Hollywood is even taking aim at the more independent films like “Fright Night” and “I Spit On Your Grave” lately. It’s completely gutted the genre, and turned it into just a mindless cash cow, with no creativity or imagination put into it. It’s almost as if the genre has given up on itself. As schlocky as the 80′s were, we at least had gems like “Creepshow”, “Return of the Living Dead”, and “The Thing”.

But here comes along a small budget film that doesn’t look low budget, has the atmosphere and tension of something along the lines of “Halloween”, and it’s so fresh and invigorating to see life put back in the genre that this review may actually come off as a promo for it rather than a review. I will try to be fair, though. But “Munger Road” is the most effective horror thriller I’ve seen in years, and it actually gave me hope that if it finds major distribution, it could give the horror genre some leverage to be relevant again.

I thought “The Blair Witch Project” would have done the same 11 years ago; all it did, though, was spawn a lot of headaches like “Quarantine” and other wanna-be’s. “Munger Road” takes the more traditional approach.

It’s a ghost story. Actually, it’s a ghost legend story. It takes place in the western suburbs of Chicago, in St. Charles (a town I know quite well since I used to live around there). The legend is simple: there’s a road in Bartlett, Illinois called Munger Road that runs along train tracks. According to legend, a school bus stopped on the tracks and was hit by a train, killing the children. To this day, they “haunt” the area. So if you drive up to that road, and park your car, the children will push your car over the tracks so you’re safe. There are stories of a ghost train as well. There’s also a story of an old farmhouse where someone was murdered. But that one’s disputed. The popular theory is the latter, with the ghost children.

Of course, one of the best things about history is folklore. We can’t help but be drawn to stories like this. We want to believe them. For four kids, it’s their goal to get “evidence” of the ghost children pushing their car along the tracks. So they get a handcam, and baby powder, and their girlfriends, to go along and see if the Munger Road legend is real.

The kids are Corey (Trevor Morgan), his girlfriend Joe (Brooke Peoples), his buddy Scott (Hallock Beals), and Scott’s girlfriend Rachel (Lauren Storm). The girlfriends are obviously not into it, thinking this is just some dumb boy thing. But the boys are convinced this will be a good time. There’s a bit of a complication in Corey and Joe’s relationship that is never truly paid off between them, but it serves as an interesting underlying subplot that does actually have a good pay off in the end.

Meanwhile, the town of St. Charles is preparing for Scarecrow Fest, a fall carnival that is celebrated every October–and there’s a problem (isn’t that always the way?). An escaped lunatic has come back home, according to reports. The Chief of St. Charles Police, Kirkhoven (Bruce Davison) has to track the killer, or else the festivities could be upset. He takes his partner along with him, Deputy Hendricks (Randall Batinkoff), and the two discover a few clues that actually bring them close to where these kids are headed.

The film cuts back and forth between the cops and the kids, and first time writer/director Nick Smith does a good job of pacing the two stories, after a slow and somewhat clunky start, where eventually we’re just as invested in these officers getting their man as we are seeing these kids get out of their situation.

Oh, the situation is this: when they get to Munger Road, the two guys set up to make it look like kids handprints are on the car after it is mysteriously pushed forward over the tracks. The girls are upset when they figure it out, and just want to go home. But there’s a problem. The car won’t start. Didn’t see that one coming! But instead of this being an eye rolling cliche, we are invested enough in these kids thanks to good writing, that we really want them to get out of the situation. Munger Road is in the middle of nowhere, and their cell phones won’t work (of course!) so one of them has the idea that heading down the tracks back to town is a good one. Problems arise when he isn’t heard from after he leaves the car, and his girlfriend, Joe, tries to track him down.

One revelation that has one of the kids legitimately scared–they did capture something on the video recorder they didn’t expect. When they were trying to start their car, there’s the presence of someone behind them. Could it be the killer? That’s the obvious conclusion. But Smith does something interest with a bit of a twist at the end that we’re not really expecting. Let’s put it this way: it just isn’t as simple as the escaped killer; but it also may not be as simple that the legend is true.

The climactic scenes are very effective, even if there is a bit of a lull where there may be an expectation of a big reveal or “final fight” or something. It is a bit of a weakness, but I really did like the last scene. And although our expectations may be a little high by the time the film ends, I think Smith has enough command of the narrative that he did this on purpose.

There were a few “quiet” scenes between the kids that I would have liked to see a little more opening up about who they are; but there is so much tension in the air during their little adventure that I can forgive that Smith decided to forego a deeper look into the characters. We know enough to care.

I mentioned “Halloween” as a comparison. I do not mean to say that this film is in the same league, because that film is a classic and this film is just a bit too “familiar” to be considered on that level. That isn’t a slight to the movie, though. “Halloween” is one of the best horror films ever made. But Nick Smith has made a real contribution to the genre with “Munger Road”. And Smith uses atmosphere and tension instead of blood and gore, the way Carpenter did. And like Carpenter, Smith is always in control of this story. It may be something we’ve seen before, but it’s well executed, well written, and extremely well acted. The actors are very natural, and it reminded me of the performances in “The Blair Witch Project” (and the good news for them is that they don’t have to worry about their careers since this film isn’t built on the “found footage” gimmick). The character of Joe is the glue for the kids as much as the chief is the glue for the cop story, and both actors are very capable and so it’s all held together very well.

If you’re looking for a good “scare” movie, see this one–and take a date. It’s definitely better than what Hollywood’s been shelling out lately.

And if you’re going to go to Munger Road, just keep in mind–we all know about it. Including the cops. So be careful. And if someone starts pushing your car, just turn your car on and drive on. Do not stop. And definitely don’t check out the farmhouse, if you happen to find it.

My rating:

Moneyball

Out of all of the sports in America, baseball has the most mystique. That’s always been the pull, I think, in its history. Funny game. Can’t figure it out. We try. We’ve been trying for over a century to put a finger on the pulse of the game. But really, with all of its tradition, its pattern behavior, its rock steady consistency, baseball can be all over the place. We try to normalize it by using statistics to define it. Is this guy a good player, or just a good hitter? We use terms like “5-tool” to quantify how good a player can be. Is there any other sport that we do this for? There are specialists in baseball, but they’re not every day players, like in another sport. In basketball, a scoring specialist can still be in your starting five. In football, a guy with velcro hands will most likely be among your starting wide receivers. In baseball, a guy who just steals bases will be a pinch runner. A guy who can hit in a tight spot is your pinch hitter. If you’ve got a guy with a killer curveball, he’s your 8th inning set up guy–or just someone to bring in to get one guy out. Maybe it’s a lefty-lefty matchup.

In “Moneyball”, the GM of the Oakland Athletics, Billy Beane (Brad Pitt), along with his numbers-crunching economist, Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), are faced with a very common problem among any team that isn’t the New York Yankees. Beane is given a very small payroll, and his team’s been gutted. It’s 2003, following a disappointing 2002 post season series loss to the Yankees. Jason Giambi, Johnny Damon, and Jason Isringhausen, all blue chip players, are gone. So he’s left to replace these players, which he knows, of course, is impossible. After a dubious meeting with the general manager of the Cleveland Indians to try and re-build his team, he takes notice of a kid that nixes a deal that would send a good prospect to the Oakland A’s. Beane is taken by the kid, a recent Yale grad, who is good with numbers, but isn’t very respected by his bosses. Peter Brand thinks there’s a better way of looking at players–their value, rather than just their name or their hitting ability.

Beane assembles a team of players who don’t even know the position they’re supposed to play (one player is a former catcher who can’t throw anymore, and is expected to play first base). Beane faces opposition from not only his team of scouts, but of his team’s manager as well (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman). He’s taking a big risk by doing something this unconventional, and his team starts off extremely poorly, leading to more criticism from the world of baseball.

He’s also haunted by his own past as a can’t-miss prospect baseball player who was actually considered a “5-tool” player by scouts. He was offered a full scholarship to Stanford, but turns it down in favor of playing in the big leagues for the New York Mets at the young age of 18. What happens in his career isn’t uncommon–he can’t keep up with the game. He eventually is out of the game, and returns as a scout. What’s interesting about Beane is that he’ll look at players the same way he looked at himself. He’s a general manager who was also a former player. He has more of a stake in evaluating the talent of a player, in theory.

Not every move Beane makes works out, and what is very obvious throughout this story is that it’s not all about the wins and losses, although Beane can’t stand to lose. He says nothing matters until you “win the last game of the series”. But what he does is put together a team that finds ways to win because they play a very fundamental game. Nobody steals; everybody is supposed to get on base. It’s small-ball.

Eventually, Beane’s approach does start to work out, though, and even leads to an historic 20-game winning streak by the A’s that puts them in front of the American League West division. There’s a great sequence in which the clinching game starts off as an 11-0 laugher in the 4th inning that convinces Beane to, for once, actually watch the game. He is never seen watching a game prior to this. What he sees in front of his eyes, though, is what every fan goes through when it comes to jinxes. He watches as the 11-0 lead is bled to the point where the opposing team actually ties the game at 11 all. The manager, who had been opposed to Beane’s approach for most of the season, finally puts in a player that Beane had selected. This is the guy who can’t play first base. All he’s brought in to do is get on base. What he does, however, is hit a home run that wins the game.

In that whole sequence, we see what baseball is, and what effect it has on people like Beane. Everything from curses, miracles, redemption, and just the oddball nature of baseball, is illustrated in that scene. It defines what the movie is about. You can’t control baseball–but you can enjoy the ride, sometimes.

Some criticism of the film’s portrayal of the events may be directed at the fact the A’s did not “win anything” while this philosophy was implemented. While Beane himself wants to win, the movie’s agenda and Beane’s isn’t exactly one in the same. What you see are the good little stories that come out of a team that was predicted to be laughing stock of the league. And who says there can’t be great teams that didn’t win a championship? How about the Bills teams of the early 90′s? The 2001 Seattle Mariners that won 116 games. The ’85 Boston Celtics. Sure, a lot of it comes down to your own perspective. But the point of this movie isn’t about winning; it’s about innovating. It’s about striving to change. Baseball is always going to remain the same; but that doesn’t mean you have to go through the motions. And eventually, change works, as illustrated in the last line of the film displayed on the screen about the Boston Red Sox winning the World Series in 2004.

As much as this movie involves baseball, those who don’t follow the game or care about it could still enjoy this film. There’s a universal human element to it that can be appreciated by anyone who’s had to face adversity in their life…so pretty much anybody could relate to some of the themes. The performances are strong, and the film has some really big laughs that you don’t necessarily have to understand baseball in order to get. It’s a feel-good type of movie but it isn’t manipulative or patronizing. It’s about as natural flowing as a good, clean, non-Joe West umpired game of baseball.

My rating:

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

Look out, Hollywood! The apes are back! But where’s Estella Warren? Hm? Where are you?? She’s gone…it’s all gone. It’s all been re-booted. In the totally original genre called “re-booting” franchises that was handled with brilliance like in “A Nightmare on Elm Street” (which would have been a hated movie by me if I could have just stayed awake throughout it)…or wait, I think that was just a remake. This is a true re-boot. It’s like “Star Trek”; except, it’s different. There’s no Captain Kirk, for one thing.

So let me tell you the plot because it’s OMG so totally WeSoMEZZ (I just made that up; think it can become a meme?)

It’s about this guy (James Franco, who holds a record of being miscast in films; I think his streak is up to 5 now or something) who wants to treat his dad (the Harry-less John Lithgow, who trades Sasquatch for a chimp) for Alzheimer’s disease by creating a retrovirus called “113″ and tests it on apes. The result? The chimps have a heightened intelligence. This is pretty amazing, of course. But it doesn’t impress his boss, played as standard as possible by David Oyelowo (say that five times fast! starting…now!), and so the project is scrapped. Well, there is a test subject that he takes home with him, named Caesar (named after the dressing), and this is no ordinary chimp–it’s a CGI! (Chimp Graphic Interface). Forgive the cheap joke.

Well, Caesar is quite limber and intelligent, and the film spends a few reels showing something that’s very akin to cut-scenes in a video game as we see Caesar grow up and become more intelligent; meanwhile, Dear Old Dad is given a dose of the medicine as well, and it actually works. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last forever…and he replases eventually. Meanwhile, the guy, Will, develops a relationship with a doctor named…oh…you know? I don’t remember. Why? Because she serves no purpose other than to say a few things to Will about how careful he should be. And they kiss at some point. Finally! The film lapses through about 8 years–this girl knows how to hold out.

Also, Caesar starts to really emo out. He gets lonely and sad, and wonders if he’s just considered a pet (which he is), and winds up taking out his self-loathing on a neighbor (who gets a few shots taken at him…but not enough payoff). He is sent to a little…monkey prison, where he is tormented by Draco Malfoy (well, Tom Felton, the guy who played him) to the point where Emo Caesar starts to really get peeved. He befriends the apes in the prison, and they basically break out and wreak havoc.

And that’s actually where this movie is so disappointing! Here you’ve got a pretty entertaining premise, and Andy Serkis is so good as a CGI actor that he’s basically a human special effect…possibly the best ever. But they go so by the book, standard, garden variety, no violence and no real tension…it’s not that it’s boring, it’s just that it’s so sterile! This movie could have had a lot of fun with itself, or gone the complete opposite direction and make it a real bloodbath. Apes just killing and pillaging and whatnot.

Instead, the movie feels like some kind of weird kid’s movie, which is confusing because kids would probably be scared to death of these chimps once they turn, and I gotta believe zoos better be aware that kids need to be told that A) the chimps in the zoo are not computer generated and B) not going to suddenly go America all over your ass.

Yes, the apes hold our attention more than the cardboard cut out human characters; but they’re also given very formulaic personalities that never really lets them breathe…so we get something that could be maybe enjoyed at a Drive-In; but it could have been a really fun movie if it wasn’t so Studio-tweaked.

I wanted to have fun with the movie; but it just didn’t let you in. It looks good, the CGI is well used, and the emo factor is fantastic–all Caesar is missing are the bangs. And maybe a Twitter account. But this movie just doesn’t explore any of the amazing possibilities (like Apes using Twitter) that it had, so we’re left with a very banal and standard action film that’s so synthetic that we can’t connect with any of it.

I can only hope the sequels do something more; but I highly doubt that’ll happen.

Maybe they could at least use LinkedIn though…

My rating:

Captain America: The First Avenger

I remember back in the summer of 1990, I was going to see “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” for the second time in the theatre, when I spotted a really cool looking poster for an upcoming movie. All it was was a shield, red white and blue. I recognized it immediately. It was Captain America.

In my youth, there was nary a superhero film (besides the “Superman” sequels) until 1989′s “Batman”, so I was really excited. I thought, well if there’s going to be a movie for Captain America, then maybe they’ll make a Spider-Man movie, too!

Well, that poster was the last I heard of “Captain America”, the movie. It was only about a decade later when I read that the movie was such a bomb, it wasn’t even really released at all. Back in those days, Hollywood wasn’t about to spend money to churn out superhero movies the way they do now, like a fast food combo meal.

And so, my childhood was left with no “Captain America” movie. And now, into my thirties, I realize by seeing this 2011 film, that I wish I could go back to my childhood and take this film with me. If I were 11 years old again, I probably would have enjoyed the film thoroughly.

Instead, I was absolutely thoroughly bored with this film. Every simple-minded gag and plot device is utilized here. It’s just your average Rah-Rah Go America style action flick, and the lack of depth to the characters and plot would’ve been ignored had I been a kid, simply amazed and swept off my feet by the dazzling special effects. Instead, nothing worked for me.

The film is, like every other comic book movie, an origin story. And like most Marvel comic book heroes, this one is an underdeveloped kid who suddenly gets massive powers. He goes from being the Little Engine That Could to the Coors Light Train, blasting through enemies (who look like a cross between S&M enthusiasts and the Cobra Command) at a breakneck pace. He has a love interest, played dutifully by the amazingly beautiful Hayley Atwell, and he has a boss, played amusingly by Tommy Lee Jones. The only real waste of a good character actor is Hugo Weaving, who plays the main villain known as the Red Skull. He’s so paper thin and uninteresting, it’s really a shame. Captain America himself is played actually pretty well by Chris Evans, who has already had a comic book character attached to his name in his career. That’s another thing that’s strange to me: time was, a comic book hero that became a movie also became the identity of the actor. Christopher Reeve was Superman. That was it. But now, you’ve got actors who are appearing in several comic book movies as separate heroes. I wonder if kids know the difference, or care.

What does it matter anyway? We’re so inundated with comic book movies, they all start to look the same. I enjoyed “Thor” for what it was, and it was at least a bit different. But this movie is just your average, garden variety, run of the mill superhero movie; but it lacks heart and eagerness to please. It’s almost as if just because it’s Red, White, and Blue, we should cheer. It’s the Flag Waving Comic Book Hero Movie.

Well, I’m sure that will appeal to certain audiences. Count me out.

My rating:

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2

I think it was around 2000 that I first took notice of a book called “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”. I was working at amazon.com, and it was starting to gain popularity very quickly. It wasn’t long after that I saw more books with the name “Harry Potter”: “Chamber of Secrets” and “The Prisoner of Azkaban”. I thought, what’s the deal with these books? Well, the answer was…they had just become the most popular childrens’ books in circulation.

By the time the fourth book, “Goblet of Fire”, was being released, Harry Potter mania had taken full effect. In 2001, a film version was made of “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”. My sister was ecstatic, and even went so far as to work out something with a local theatre to promote a kid-friendly showing of the movie, complete with a Sorting Hat and people dressing up. I went to this showing to support what she was doing, and I had finally taken interest in the books after she repeatedly inflected the highest praise I’ve seen her give a book since she had read Roald Dahl.

I enjoyed the first book, enough to continue with the series. I liked what J.K. Rowling was doing: Harry was a very special child, but he was severely underappreciated and abused by his adopted parents (his own were killed). Harry learns that he’s a wizard, and he can perform magic and all sorts of special things that he couldn’t do in the “Muggle World” (muggle being the word for regular human, or an English person). I was taken by the journey and wound up reading the entire series, getting the concluding book the day it came out and finishing it in a week (a record for me).

Meanwhile, I went and saw the movies. And I was less than impressed with most of them. While some of them (“Chamber of Secrets”, “Order of the Phoenix”) were OK, only two really stood out for me as well done films: “Prisoner of Azkaban” and “The Half-Blood Prince”. Finally, these movies provided some much needed character development that made the books so entertaining and endearing.

For the final adaptation, the money-grubbing producers I suppose thought it’d be better to split the book into two movies. Yeah, I’m sure it was for artistic purposes. See my review on “Part 1″ to see if they succeeded. I had my doubts that it would serve well as a two part…mini-series, and I think I was right to be so dubious.

In Part 2, we’re taken right into the action from the start. Why we needed a long-winded 2 and a half hour long “intro” (Part 1), I have no idea. Well, I do have an idea. But in any event, I saw it, and I was just anticipating this film to see if they could conclude it in a satisfying manner, the way the book did.

Obviously, there’s always going to be a disconnect between the film and book, in any adaptation. Certain things cannot be filmed, and sometimes things are left out. The “Harry Potter” series was a frequent culprit of this, especially in “Goblet of Fire” (which was my favorite of the book series). In this adaptation, from what I remember, they do get pretty much all of it right. But something was still missing. And I think because of all of the short comings of previous installments, this film was never going to deliver for me what I had been starved for the entire time–and that’s actually…caring for these characters.

I’ve never thought of Daniel Radcliffe as a good actor, nor Emma Watson. But they’re not entirely at fault for their cardboard cutout characters–the screenwriting in this series has been dreadful in many of the installments, including this one. The film’s pace never seems quite right, especially in Part 1. But there’s just no sense of urgency other than spewing out the dazzling special effects. That’s always seemed to be the driving force of these films.

If aesthetics were all you could base your opinion on in this series, I’d say it was a smashing success. But that’s not what drew me into the books, and that’s not what drew me into liking Harry Potter as a character, along with the other characters. I liked that Rowling gave them complexity and flaws. In the films, they just seem to go along with the story, not really offering any real emotion or showing pain or anguish. It all just seems like window dressing. And while it’s very nice to look at, it just doesn’t do anything for me.

And that’s basically what I thought of this conclusion. Everything is in its right place. But the puzzle itself doesn’t move me. And there was even a conclusion missing, I thought, between Harry and Draco–two characters who were heated rivals throughout the series. There was nothing I felt throughout this film; not even in the last scene, where we finally see Harry as an adult and without the scar. It struck me as interesting that in the film, he does not rub his forehead as he does in the last line of the book. That line was used to show that Harry had finally gotten through everything, and his scar “healed” so that he was pretty much…born anew. In the film he doesn’t touch it–almost signifying that he just never felt anything. I know that’s kind of an insult, and a bit short sighted.

I do not think the film series has been bad, necessarily. It just hasn’t been what I thought it would be. I was hoping for something more meaningful, such as the “Lord of the Rings” adaptations. In that, they cut out a lot from the books but they retained the most important thing–the relationships. Harry Potter’s relationships in the film series just serve as plot devices more than anything else. And all of the films worked on a visual level. But not on any other level. And what made me like Harry Potter so much was that there were so many levels.

But I am relieved that it’s finally over. My scar’s gone, too. And all is well.

My rating:

Midnight in Paris

Woody Allen has been making films for nearly four decades, and he somehow has remained a prominent filmmaker even today. His films have ranged from screwball comedies (“Sleeper”, “Bananas”) to poignant dramas (“Another Woman”, “September”), and he’s always had a knack for blending comedy and drama (“Crimes and Misdemeanors”, “Sweet and Lowdown”). Sometimes he’s just been plain whimsical, like in “Purple Rose of Cairo”; and here, in his latest feature, “Midnight in Paris”, he seems to have recaptured some of that magic again.

It’s almost impossible to know how Woody Allen continues to do this. He’ll be 76 years old in December and he has shown no signs of slowing down. Sure he’s made some weak films in the past decade (his worst being “Hollywood Ending” by far); but instead of giving up after all of the bad press, he kept going. In his last few years he’s had some more success with “Vicky Christina Barcelona” and “Whatever Works”. But “Midnight in Paris” really is the film that’s brought him back to his original form.

Every Woody Allen formula is in here: the bickering married couple who’s joined incidentally by an old friend, usually of the woman, and of course the friend is a sniveling jerk. The husband of the married couple is a bit neurotic or awkward. Here he’s played by Owen Wilson, invoking just enough of Allen’s spirit to be charming and just stopping short of an “impression” of Allen. His wife is played by Rachel McAdams, who does a fine job with Woody Allen’s always witty and snappy dialog. The sniveling jerk is well played by Michael Sheen, although you know if this were made 20 years ago, it’d be Alan Alda most likely playing that role, Woody playing the husband, and Diane Keaton playing the wife.

The plot revolves around the couple, Gil and Inez (Wilson and McAdams respectively), staying in Paris while Gil is trying to complete a novel–his first in his career as a writer. He’s a Hollywood “hack” screenwriter who I suppose would be your David Keopp or Shane Black. Someone who can whip up a blockbuster but has no real “soul” as a writer. He feels lost; but he’s found something in Paris. He wants to stay there. His wife wants to live in Malibu and continue being rich. You can already tell these two will not get along in most of their scenes together, and certainly their chemistry for this kind of banter works because Wilson and McAdams just devour their roles so well. Wilson has those big blue wondrous eyes that make you believe how much of a dreamer he is. And that’s exactly what you need to believe because one night after a dinner, Gil decides to walk the streets of Paris instead of going out dancing with his wife and her friends. He claims he needs some inspiration for his novel, which is about a man who owns and operates a nostalgia shop. Gil himself identifies with the character because he, himself, is sentimental about the past and would love to live in Paris in the 1920′s.

That night, as the clock strikes midnight, Gil gets his wish. He’s approached by an old automobile, a Pugeot, and he gets in and realizes he’s sharing a cab with F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda. Later that night, he meets THE Ernest Hemingway and asks if he’ll read his book. Hemingway won’t because he’ll “hate” it (“If I don’t like it, I’ll hate it; if I do like it, I’ll hate it because I’ll wish I wrote it” to paraphrase). But he says he’ll let Gertrude Stein read it because he trusts her opinion.

Once Gil is transported into this world, the film flows like a Monet. It is an absolute joy to see all of these classic artists (which include Pablo Picasso and Salvador Dali) mingle with each other, and with Gil. You can see in films like this, and “Radio Days”, how sentimental Woody Allen can be. And when he is, he really delivers.

There’s a bit of exposition in the third act that wraps things up with another character a little too easily; but by that point, we’re so whisked away in this world and wrapped up in it like a warm blanket on a chilly night that we don’t care about logic or formula. The ending is predictable as is the journey–but you want to take it anyway. This really is Woody Allen at his best and he’s right at home with this material. There are also some big laughs in the film, but you’ll be smiling the whole way through anyway.

A character in the beginning talks of nostalgia as being a crutch. Something we use to escape reality and live in the past. But what Allen proves is that revisiting the past can also open things up about yourself that living in the present may never do. It’ll teach you things about yourself, where you belong, and what you need to do for the future. In the present we take things for granted, in the past we learn what we’ve taken for granted. I mentioned before who the cast would’ve been in this film if it were made 20 years ago. It’s interesting how watching this movie made me think of older Woody Allen films, as I’m sure it will for anyone who is a fan. But as much as I was looking back on Allen’s career while watching the film, it never took away how much I enjoyed the movie I was watching–in the present.

Woody Allen continues to prove how great of a filmmaker he is, and this is just more evidence of that.

My rating:

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