New Year's Eve
Ok... so.. I actually saw this something like a month and a half ago. Let me just say this right off the top. I don't really enjoy writing this blog as much as I had hoped. Don't get me wrong. I like having written "reviews", I love seeing movies, and I don't mind talking about them. But the process of writing? Not a huge fan. Why? I put too much pressure on myself for one. I want to be a better writer than I am. And I seem to have trouble translating the thoughts rolling around in my head into coherent sentences on the computer. Plus, who the hell gives a shit what I think anyway. Roger Ebert, I am not (which is a very Ebertian way of saying that). But, I do feel.. I dunno an obligation to write these entries. And I do like going back and rereading my thoughts on movies. Helps me remember them more (which is useful in an era when Hollywood keeps churning out really shitty and forgettable movies). In other words, the bottom line is that I truly want or perhaps feel the need to write these entries. That is, until I saw New Year's Eve. And my will to write this blog pretty much perished.
You want me to cut straight to the chase? The movie sucked. How best to describe it... say you're an aspiring photographer and you want to snap a cute picture. And let's just say that you're particularly impatient so waiting for a cute opportunity to develop organically is impossible. So what do you do... you go rent the cutest puppy you can find, grab the cutest kitten around, and steal the cutest baby on the block. Then you make them all cuddle up together... perhaps having the puppy's arm embrace the sleeping baby... toss in some rainbows or something and you have a photo op so cute it'll make anyone who views it gag. Too cute for it's own damn good. Make the aspiring photographer an increasingly out of touch Garry Marshall and turn the cute photo op into a feel good movie and you essentially have the mess that was New Year's Eve. It tried so hard to impart that "feel-good-ness" that it made me ill. I went in with a full head of teeth... came out down three to sugar rot. Don't press so much, Garry! You're killing it.
The basic premise of New Year's Eve is that New Year's Eve- particularly in New York City- is inherently magical... and as long as you're alive, something magical will happen to you that night. You'll meet the love of your life, you'll be given a second chance at love, an opportunity to mend old damaged fences, the chance to be a hero, or perhaps you'll be able to change someone's life for the better. All because it's New Year's Eve... and you live in Manhattan. Welcome to the land of make-believe. The only inherent quality I see in New Year's Eve is the magical ability to get 75% of the nation's drinkers completely drunk. New Year's Eve, I would imagine, is where more mistakes happen than opportunities. Mistakes you could be saddled with for the rest of the year too.
...
Ok, so maybe that was a little cynical. But isn't New Year's Eve merely an administrative necessity. You have to turn the year over at some point... so it coincides with the Earth's orbit and all that jazzy goodness. But really December 31st only happens because it's necessary. No magic there. And any excuse to party is fine, really. People should have fun. But that's all it is. So they drop an increasingly expensive, light-filled ball down a pole in Times Sqaure. It's not magic, Garry. It's engineering. Maybe there is a magical feel to a shit-ton of people all celebrating the same thing at the same time. I don't know, I just don't feel it. It's an excuse for people to party... and drink. That's about it. No magic. Sorry.
I think, deep down, Garry Marshall realizes this. He must have realized he was trying to create a dreamscape out of thin air. That's why he cast a parade of some of the hottest actors and actres... oh wait a minute... no he didn't. He cast a parade of familiar faces- mainly TV stars looking for broader exposure I would imagine... and also Robert DeNiro... who may have viewed this as the parachute to stop his freefall as an actor. Turns out that that pesky Road Runner packed your pack with an anvil instead, buddy. Downward you continue to fly... only faster. So these are recognizable names, but I don't think there's a truly good actor or actress among the bunch. And if they do have skill, they chose not to show it here. Ashton Kutcher as a grump who feels what 90% of the audience surely must have felt- that New Year's Eve is what it is... an excuse to party and nothing more- is about the best thing about the movie. That is, until it's revealed that his character is so bitter about New Year's because some girl broke his heart on that day years ago. Come. On. Who cares? And... get over it! For much of the movie though, he played the personification of my feelings toward the movie... so I appreciated him for that.
Again, maybe I'm being harsh. Halle Berry's in it... and she used to be a pretty damn good actress... though she hasn't done much of late has she? DeNiro... sad story there, but he, too used to kick ass. Hilary Swank's there too...but she's kind of phoned it in lately too. Who else? Oh, yes. Michelle Pfeiffer. But then, she's fallen off the face of the Earth a bit hasn't she? See what I'm getting at? Michelle Williams? Wouldn't be caught dead appearing in this crap. Same goes for Ryan Gosling, George Clooney, Carey Mulligan, and a whole bunch of other great performers. Marshall has wrangled up a bunch of folks looking for exposure... either because they feel they're on their way up, or their on their way down and hoping to slow the decline... I mean... for the most part anyway. The thing that's so troubling is that everyone who appears in the movie should have known better. Marshall already gave hundreds of people diabetes through his previous All-Star ensemble exercise in fairy tale: Valentine's Day. I didn't see it, but it was rather widely panned...was it not? So how the hell did he get so many recognizable names to appear in this next sure fire flop? Not entirely sure... or...perhaps...
Here's a thought. I learned two things by watching New Year's Eve. 1.) Above all else, New Year's Eve is the one day of the year where you are free to shun your work responsibilities with no apparent consequence. Virtually every main character in the movie just completely drops the ball on their jobs- the ones they are expected to do... including ones whose sole functions are to make NYE as magical as possible- and none of these folks cares or suffers any consequences. Nice. If your New Year's resolution was to completely slack on your job on the last day of the year, congrats, you made it. Now how the shit does this not lead to a giant clusterfuck of disfunction? Magic, folks. NYE in NYC is magic. 2.) Garry Marshall knows where all sorts of bodies are buried. This is the only rational explanation why any pseudo-capable actor or actress would allow this movie to stain their resumes. By all accounts, Garry Marshall should be trolling for the castaways from such wonderful movies as Hostel 5 or Saw 8, but somehow he manages to snag known quantities. How? He's sitting on a mountain of closet skeletons and knows where the bodies are buried. That's it. That has to be it. How else could he get any self-respecting actor or actress to willing go down with the ship... pity? Maybe, but I think the guy know all the dirty secrets. Don't fuck with Garry Marshall. You'll regret it.
On second thought, though, I think the best thing about the movie may, in fact, be that Robert DeNiro plays the epitome of what his career has become. DeNiro plays a dying man who stubbornly refuses any treatment. He's just committed to passing away, only holding out hope for one last magical moment. Just like DeNiro's career. It's sinking at an unbelievable rate, and he just refuses to do anything about it...stubbornly holding on for one last magical role. And while DeNiro's NYE character truly believes that watching the ball drop from the roof of his hospital is magic...just as DeNiro probably believes these shitty roles are great for him... the thing is, we all know that there is no magic there. The Ball's just going to drop again next year, more people will drink themselves into a state of euphoria and life will go on on January 1st much as it did on December 30th. And DeNiro will still remain a shadow of what he once was. Tell me, Bob, where's the magic in that?
One final thought. I saw this movie because I wanted desperately to see 59 movies in 2011 and set a new record. You'll shortly find out that I missed the mark and tied my previous high of 58...but that's neither here nor there. What I'm trying to get at is that this is not a movie I'd normally make an effort to see. And you know what? Hollywood is totally cool with that. Why? Because it's a so-called "chick-flick". And...ok... maybe I was the only dude among the 15 or so folks who came to see the movie that evening. But really, I'm glad I'm a guy because if this was the kind of shit they're trying to convince me I'll love...and I'm- in their feeble minds- supposed to love, I'd be seriously offended by that. Then again, they tell me I'm supposed to like Transformers and The Green Lantern... hmmm... maybe Hollywood really does suck...
Grade: F
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