Predisposed
Sundance viewing number three...
Roll Call: Jesse Eisenberg, Melissa Leo, Tracy Morgan, Isiah Whitlock, Sarah Ramos, Emma Ryane Lyle. Ron Nyswaner, writer. Phil Dorling and Ron Nyswaner, directors.
What's It About: Building on the short film of the same title, Predisposed is essentially a bizarro road movie that follows the exploits of a dysfunctional mother-son combo. The mother, Penny (an intense Melissa Leo), is a drug-addicted train wreck, her son Eli (Jesse Eisenberg... doing the typical geeky anxiety thing that has worked so well for him... either you like him- like I do- or you don't- like a bunch of people, I suppose) is a budding piano prodigy who has a host of issues himself, including an upcoming audition for an elite music school. Another of Eli's issues? He can't very well go away to the music school and leave his mother to take care of his young sister (Emma Rayne Lyle). The answer? Rehab. Eli needs his mother to go to rehab. The only problem there is that she doesn't qualify at the moment, having temporarily kicked drugs in order to "prep" for her upcoming stay. Unless she gets high and produces some tainted urine, she's not getting in, and Eli- in turn- isn't going to be able to go to the elite music school, regardless of how his audition turns out. Eli must get his mother high. Their quest for drugs eventually involves Penny's typical dealers (Tracy Morgan and Isiah Whitlock) and a Mexican supplier. As one can imagine- particularly with a cast that includes Tracy Morgan, zany hijinks ensue.
What About it: As you can probably tell based on the plot description, this is a pretty over-the-top premise. A son trying to get his mother high in order to get her to rehab? Sounds like it shouldn't work. But it does- to a degree- if you're willing to just go with it. All in all, Predisposed is the fun, popcorn flick that the director Phil Dorling introduced it as prior to my Sundance screening. Nothing really wrong with that. In fact, that basic plot is the least of the movie's worrisome aspects. I think the film's biggest problem is that Dorling and Nyswaner tried very hard to shoehorn a rather gratuitous- and occasionally distracting- love story subplot into the movie. Eli has the hots for Chloe (Sarah Ramos), a girl he met in the eighth grade. Of course being the geeky, self destructive type he is, Eli has never been able to admit to Chloe how he really feels about her. Soooo how exactly is this relevant to Eli's struggle to break free of the burdensome life-anchor that is his druggie mom? I'm still trying to figure that out. In fact, given its hasty development and tendency just to pop up every now and again, I'm still trying to figure out how it was relevant to any part of the movie. Chloe- for the most part- occasionally pops into the story (during the final third of the movie as a Revolutionary War reenactor... a move that was supposedly meant to pay homage to the big annual reenactment that takes place in the directors' home town of Kingston, NY, but comes off more as comedic relief... and... rather awkward) so that she and Eli can engage in awkward exchanges that usually involve Eli insulting her (or coming damn close) and her just shrugging it off. In fact their chemistry is more akin to a recently broken up couple than two long-time lovers who've never found the way to letting each other know of their shared feelings. It was all just so oddly out of place with the rest of the story. Was it meant to illuminate Eli's multitude of problems (he's quick tempered, has a drinking problem, lacks confidence, and- I guess- has trouble communicating)? I don't know, but they could have done away with the angle and I don't the film would have suffered (nor would anyone have really minded, I'd bet).
Beyond that, the movie is full of noise. There are very few quiet scenes. Much of the movie's dialog takes place chaotic screeched, multi-layered arguments. Several scenes feature as many as four and sometimes five people talking over each other at once. I know- as per the filmmakers' explanation in the Q &A- that it was drawn up that way to signify the incredible dysfunction happening during the course of this one chaotic day for this band of misfits. I can appreciate that. But when you have to sit through nearly two hours of this noise, it goes beyond setting the environment to physical discomfort. I can't tell you the number of times I just wanted to get up and scream, "Shut the hell up... ALL OF YOU!" at the screen. Eventually Eli does get everyone to quiet down, but by then, the damage is done.
I don't mean to suggest that this was an awful movie by any stretch. As I mentioned before, it was fun. I like Eisenberg. I know he usually plays the same character in every movie (right down to the physical mannerisms), but he's so good at it, it rarely bothers me. That said, the saving grace of the movie was- by far- the tag team duo of Tracy Morgan (as Penny's drug dealer Sprinkles) and Isiah Whitlock (as his brother Black). Sprinkles and Black are two all-bark, little bite small-time hoods whose sole weapon was their deadly wit. I know. I'm surprised as anyone that I'm heaping praise on Tracy Morgan. The same Tracy Morgan whose typical schtick usually gets old for me in the first three minutes. Here, though, he downplays the whole idiotic man-child routine in favor of being more of a routine smartass. And it works. To great effect. His interplay with Isiah Whitlock (in full "I'm a bad mutha" form) was downright hilarious at times. Their running commentary on everything from Eli's lifestyle, to Penny's mothering skills, to Eli's piano skills, to reenactors is the singular best part of the movie. It got to the point that it seemed as though the movie suffered by not having them in it from start to finish. Again, I'm shocked to be admitting this.
Other than that, the movie really doesn't have a whole lot going for it...other... I suppose... than Melissa Leo's performance. Leo- as would seem to be typical- gives a hell of a performance as a drug addled wreck (who is wrecked far more below the surface than above). Her character is, of course, reprehensible- which is by design. Leo, however, inhabits the role so well- and naturally- that it kind of makes you wonder about her... I mean, you know... or you're fairly confident she's not a drug-addled wreck in her spare time... but... well, she was damn convincing. Too convincing? No, it's not her fault that her character has few redeeming qualities. Let's just put it this way, casting Leo was nothing short of a homerun for Dorling and Nyswaner.
Bottom Line: I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy Predisposed. I think whether others will like it as much hinges- to a large degree- on whether they can tolerate Jesse being Jesse and Tracy Morgan stealing scenes. I think, for me, a bigger problem is that I expected to love the hell out of the movie. Jesse Eisenberg, Melissa Leo, and a just-quirky-enough plot seemed to add up to a potentially awesome movie... to me. In the end, though (and unfortunately) Predisposed amounted to little more than overwhelming din punctuated by some genuinely funny moments... and some real heart as well. Entertaining? Yeah, for the most part. But it could... and probably should... have been better.
Grade: B
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Movie List 2012: 2.) Shut Up And Play The Hits
Shut Up And Play The Hits
I'm already giving up on the new format. For now anyway. Just wasn't feeling it.
Ok so, here we have my second Sundance film, Shut Up And Play The Hits, the documentary covering LCD Soundsystem's last performance. They key point here is that it was a documentary first, concert film second... though.. that said, it was a blend of both. Typically, these types of films are right up my alley. I love music. I love live performances. I love getting the behind-the-scenes stories straight from the mouths of the horses who lived them. I absolutely devour films like Rattle and Hum (U2's journey to the heart of America) and Last Play at Shea (Billy Joel closes Shea Stadium with a big ol' bang). This one, however, was different. I'm a huge U2 fan, and have grown to like Billy Joel quite a bit. But here? LCD Soundsystem? I have to admit, I don't believe that prior to seeing the film, I had heard any of their songs. I knew nothing of their culture or back story. Simply put, I'm not an LCD Soundsystem fan. Doesn't mean I disliked them, I just never ran across their music. In a way though, I thought this might be to my advantage. Rattle and Hum was a no-lose situation for me. I was going to love it. My unfamiliarity with this band, though, should allow me a more objective view of the film as a whole then, right? Well, maybe. But it still probably would have been a bit easier to follow if I had had some idea of what I was in for.
But then, I'm not so sure that even fans knew what to expect here. From what I was to glean during our hour-long wait in line, this farewell concert at Madison Square Garden was the definition of EPIC. It lasted something like four hours and was supposedly one hell of a party. Fans looking solely to bask in that epic glow, though, will come away disappointed. As far as the documentary angle goes with the movie, it's more of a portrait of lead singer (and evident guiding force for the band), James Murphy. The film bounces around from the end of the concert, to the day after the concert (the first day of Murphy's "retirement") to the week before the concert (where he's interviewed by pop culture maven, Chuck Klosterman... I suppose as a way of teasing out some of the more choice sound bites then incorporated into the film), and, of course, the concert itself. I believe the point of the movie is to explore why Murphy decided it was time for LCDSS to call it quits- particularly at a time when it was evident that they were on the top of their game- and what it meant to him that he did break up the band... and end the party. I can't say that Klosterman (or the directors Will Lovelace and Dylan Southern) ever get to a definitive answer to any of these questions... and perhaps that is the definitive answer in and of itself. Maybe Murphy just doesn't know why now was the time to stop... but it just felt right... and yet... sad. To be clear, Murphy does attempt to give something approaching concrete answers.. among them- rather curiously- that he doesn't want to become too famous... odd considering- as my lovely girlfriend Courtney pointed out- that he allowed this film to be made. Without the doc, I'm not so sure that I would have recognized Murphy walking his French bulldog in Manhattan. With the amount of face time he racks up here, I'm pretty sure I could pick him out of a crowd. The problem is that there seems to be something bubbling just below the surface that is guiding his decision just as much as any of the reasons he flatly gives. And while Murphy starts down the road to delivering these insights, he never quite gets there. So, I suppose it's up to the viewer to parse through his statements, take in his emotional farewell concert, and make up his or her own mind as to what it is that made Murphy kill the party that in many ways was just getting started. Frustrating to a degree, I suppose... interesting as well. (My thought? To put it simply -and perhaps overly so- I think he had a fear of becoming irrelevant... of overstaying his shelf-life. He seemed very, very in touch with the idea that- as sad as it is- all good things must come to end... and he hoped to bring it to an end while it was still good. Seems to simple, and there are probably elements of all his other suggestions at play here as well, but I think this idea of getting out while the going is good may have been at the core...maybe).
None of all that answers whether the film- in and of itself- was any good. I will say this...even given my neophyte status in terms of being an LCD Soundsystem fan... and really now I guess that ship's sailed... I did find it interesting and engaging. But maybe not for the reasons I had initially thought it would be worth seeing. I was expecting tremendous concert footage with interspersed with shots designed to give insight into who these guys were and why it all ended. The thing was, the concert footage- while pretty cool- just didn't have the engrossing pull I thought it would. The one thing I knew about LCD Soundsystem is that they were one of the best party bands around. Whenever they played, a huge party broke out. And so it was here. Or rather there. On screen. It just didn't resonate as well with the audience. I saw Last Play at Shea on Showtime. In my living room. All by myself. And I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't pulled to the edge of my seat, heart racing, and completely engaged with Billy Joel's concert- you know, when they played the concert footage. Here, I was- in all likelihood- in a theater that was packed with LCDSS fans (though, I'm sure there were some curious festival-goers just there to see a Sundance movie) and rather than feeling like I was at the party, it felt more like it was. I was in amongst a throng of people simply viewing a party... it was as though the party, the concert was taking place in a snow globe. A few people bopped about in their seats, but people mostly just sat there and watched the concert drift by. It's kind of a shame. It was evident from the delirious (and probably ecstasy-fueled) Madison Square Garden crowd, that this was, indeed, one hell of a party. I'm not sure I can readily explain why the concert on the screen felt so insulated- there were a bunch of flashing lights... so much so that they had to give the "strobe light effect" warning before the show... and the music sounded awesome- and yet I just didn't feel as though I was a part of it all. It was just odd somehow.
The film made up for the lack of engaging concert film (some of this lacking may have been due tosome of the camera angles used to shoot the band doing their thing on stage... and the decision to mute the ambient crowd noise to a point where it seemed as though they weren't even in the same room as the band) by providing some really interesting insights and a detailed look at who James Murphy is. Lovelace and Southern may not be able to answer the one questions they feel they need to have answered, but that doesn't mean that they don't get a lot of cool footage trying. Murphy just is an interesting guy- and the give and take between Klosterman and Murphy- while admittedly bordering on pretentious (by the guys themselves!)- was awesome to listen to. (Though I have to say I can't imagine I'd be able to handle a Klosterman interview myself... it was oddly...intense... for two seemingly laid back dudes.)
I think the most intriguing thing about the film was the profound sadness that permeated everything. Murphy was clearly sad that this part of his life was coming to a close... but... he was the one who decided to walk away. I would have expected more relief to shine through. But no, he was sad... which made everything bittersweet. This was never more striking than during the concert footage. There was Murphy, in one moment giving in to spurts of fun and happiness... and in another trying hard- a midst an aura of bittersweetness- to drink in the moment. It was as though he knew this was the right decision- to walk away from it all- but he didn't expect it to go like it did. Shit, he seemed to think, I didn't think it would hurt this much. It was just interesting to watch that unfold. (On the other hand, there were a few sequences that were blatantly staged as a way to hammer this sadness angle home. These were frustrating and gratuitous moments in the film.)
In the end, I think the fact that the filmmakers chose not to pursue the insights of Murphy's band mates, might have been a mistake. We can see how torn Murphy was. I'd have loved to know how his fellow band members felt about him.. and his decision to break them up. I think these perspectives could have added some more intrigue to the film.
At the end of the day, though, this was clearly Murphy's show. It's evident that he was the center of the LCD Soundsystem universe. His band revolved around him. Fans loved the hell out of him. Fellow musicians looked up to him. He was the star of the show. Whether he wanted it or not. And you know what? I'm generally ok with this. So even while it might frustrate some people that the question at the heart of this exploration was never fully answered... or rather overtly answered, I do think that what does bubble to the surface makes for some really interesting viewing.
Grade: A
I'm already giving up on the new format. For now anyway. Just wasn't feeling it.
Ok so, here we have my second Sundance film, Shut Up And Play The Hits, the documentary covering LCD Soundsystem's last performance. They key point here is that it was a documentary first, concert film second... though.. that said, it was a blend of both. Typically, these types of films are right up my alley. I love music. I love live performances. I love getting the behind-the-scenes stories straight from the mouths of the horses who lived them. I absolutely devour films like Rattle and Hum (U2's journey to the heart of America) and Last Play at Shea (Billy Joel closes Shea Stadium with a big ol' bang). This one, however, was different. I'm a huge U2 fan, and have grown to like Billy Joel quite a bit. But here? LCD Soundsystem? I have to admit, I don't believe that prior to seeing the film, I had heard any of their songs. I knew nothing of their culture or back story. Simply put, I'm not an LCD Soundsystem fan. Doesn't mean I disliked them, I just never ran across their music. In a way though, I thought this might be to my advantage. Rattle and Hum was a no-lose situation for me. I was going to love it. My unfamiliarity with this band, though, should allow me a more objective view of the film as a whole then, right? Well, maybe. But it still probably would have been a bit easier to follow if I had had some idea of what I was in for.
But then, I'm not so sure that even fans knew what to expect here. From what I was to glean during our hour-long wait in line, this farewell concert at Madison Square Garden was the definition of EPIC. It lasted something like four hours and was supposedly one hell of a party. Fans looking solely to bask in that epic glow, though, will come away disappointed. As far as the documentary angle goes with the movie, it's more of a portrait of lead singer (and evident guiding force for the band), James Murphy. The film bounces around from the end of the concert, to the day after the concert (the first day of Murphy's "retirement") to the week before the concert (where he's interviewed by pop culture maven, Chuck Klosterman... I suppose as a way of teasing out some of the more choice sound bites then incorporated into the film), and, of course, the concert itself. I believe the point of the movie is to explore why Murphy decided it was time for LCDSS to call it quits- particularly at a time when it was evident that they were on the top of their game- and what it meant to him that he did break up the band... and end the party. I can't say that Klosterman (or the directors Will Lovelace and Dylan Southern) ever get to a definitive answer to any of these questions... and perhaps that is the definitive answer in and of itself. Maybe Murphy just doesn't know why now was the time to stop... but it just felt right... and yet... sad. To be clear, Murphy does attempt to give something approaching concrete answers.. among them- rather curiously- that he doesn't want to become too famous... odd considering- as my lovely girlfriend Courtney pointed out- that he allowed this film to be made. Without the doc, I'm not so sure that I would have recognized Murphy walking his French bulldog in Manhattan. With the amount of face time he racks up here, I'm pretty sure I could pick him out of a crowd. The problem is that there seems to be something bubbling just below the surface that is guiding his decision just as much as any of the reasons he flatly gives. And while Murphy starts down the road to delivering these insights, he never quite gets there. So, I suppose it's up to the viewer to parse through his statements, take in his emotional farewell concert, and make up his or her own mind as to what it is that made Murphy kill the party that in many ways was just getting started. Frustrating to a degree, I suppose... interesting as well. (My thought? To put it simply -and perhaps overly so- I think he had a fear of becoming irrelevant... of overstaying his shelf-life. He seemed very, very in touch with the idea that- as sad as it is- all good things must come to end... and he hoped to bring it to an end while it was still good. Seems to simple, and there are probably elements of all his other suggestions at play here as well, but I think this idea of getting out while the going is good may have been at the core...maybe).
None of all that answers whether the film- in and of itself- was any good. I will say this...even given my neophyte status in terms of being an LCD Soundsystem fan... and really now I guess that ship's sailed... I did find it interesting and engaging. But maybe not for the reasons I had initially thought it would be worth seeing. I was expecting tremendous concert footage with interspersed with shots designed to give insight into who these guys were and why it all ended. The thing was, the concert footage- while pretty cool- just didn't have the engrossing pull I thought it would. The one thing I knew about LCD Soundsystem is that they were one of the best party bands around. Whenever they played, a huge party broke out. And so it was here. Or rather there. On screen. It just didn't resonate as well with the audience. I saw Last Play at Shea on Showtime. In my living room. All by myself. And I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't pulled to the edge of my seat, heart racing, and completely engaged with Billy Joel's concert- you know, when they played the concert footage. Here, I was- in all likelihood- in a theater that was packed with LCDSS fans (though, I'm sure there were some curious festival-goers just there to see a Sundance movie) and rather than feeling like I was at the party, it felt more like it was. I was in amongst a throng of people simply viewing a party... it was as though the party, the concert was taking place in a snow globe. A few people bopped about in their seats, but people mostly just sat there and watched the concert drift by. It's kind of a shame. It was evident from the delirious (and probably ecstasy-fueled) Madison Square Garden crowd, that this was, indeed, one hell of a party. I'm not sure I can readily explain why the concert on the screen felt so insulated- there were a bunch of flashing lights... so much so that they had to give the "strobe light effect" warning before the show... and the music sounded awesome- and yet I just didn't feel as though I was a part of it all. It was just odd somehow.
The film made up for the lack of engaging concert film (some of this lacking may have been due tosome of the camera angles used to shoot the band doing their thing on stage... and the decision to mute the ambient crowd noise to a point where it seemed as though they weren't even in the same room as the band) by providing some really interesting insights and a detailed look at who James Murphy is. Lovelace and Southern may not be able to answer the one questions they feel they need to have answered, but that doesn't mean that they don't get a lot of cool footage trying. Murphy just is an interesting guy- and the give and take between Klosterman and Murphy- while admittedly bordering on pretentious (by the guys themselves!)- was awesome to listen to. (Though I have to say I can't imagine I'd be able to handle a Klosterman interview myself... it was oddly...intense... for two seemingly laid back dudes.)
I think the most intriguing thing about the film was the profound sadness that permeated everything. Murphy was clearly sad that this part of his life was coming to a close... but... he was the one who decided to walk away. I would have expected more relief to shine through. But no, he was sad... which made everything bittersweet. This was never more striking than during the concert footage. There was Murphy, in one moment giving in to spurts of fun and happiness... and in another trying hard- a midst an aura of bittersweetness- to drink in the moment. It was as though he knew this was the right decision- to walk away from it all- but he didn't expect it to go like it did. Shit, he seemed to think, I didn't think it would hurt this much. It was just interesting to watch that unfold. (On the other hand, there were a few sequences that were blatantly staged as a way to hammer this sadness angle home. These were frustrating and gratuitous moments in the film.)
In the end, I think the fact that the filmmakers chose not to pursue the insights of Murphy's band mates, might have been a mistake. We can see how torn Murphy was. I'd have loved to know how his fellow band members felt about him.. and his decision to break them up. I think these perspectives could have added some more intrigue to the film.
At the end of the day, though, this was clearly Murphy's show. It's evident that he was the center of the LCD Soundsystem universe. His band revolved around him. Fans loved the hell out of him. Fellow musicians looked up to him. He was the star of the show. Whether he wanted it or not. And you know what? I'm generally ok with this. So even while it might frustrate some people that the question at the heart of this exploration was never fully answered... or rather overtly answered, I do think that what does bubble to the surface makes for some really interesting viewing.
Grade: A
Friday, January 27, 2012
Movie List 2012: 1.) Safety Not Guaranteed
Safety Not Guaranteed
Trying a new format for my 2012 movie list. Hoping it gives me a better shot at consistency…among other things.
Roll Call: Aubrey Plaza, Jake Johnson, Mark Duplass, Karan Soni. Written by Derek Connolly. Directed by Colin Trevorrow.
What’s it about: Actually, the plot is fairly basic. Three magazine writers try to figure out the story behind a classified ad requesting a partner for time travel. Is the guy who wrote it nuts? He claims to have time-traveled before, could be that he’s done the impossible? They don’t know, but they’re going to find out.
What’s it about: Actually, the plot is fairly basic. Three magazine writers try to figure out the story behind a classified ad requesting a partner for time travel. Is the guy who wrote it nuts? He claims to have time-traveled before, could be that he’s done the impossible? They don’t know, but they’re going to find out.
Yes: Ok, first, I have to start out by saying that this and the next three on the list are movies I saw at the Sundance Film Festival. Which is freaking awesome. Such a great scene. Buzz. Excitement. Love it. Does this make me predisposed to liking a film seen here more? After all, exclusivity can be alluring. No, actually, it doesn’t. Movies that try too hard to push their indie cred piss me off anyway. I think I can be objective here. Fairly so anyway. And now allow me to shit all over that sentiment by saying that Safety Not Guaranteed very well may have been one of the best films I’ve seen in years. It has so much going for it. But perhaps nothing stands out so much as its heart. The movie simply has a ton of heart. Look, I read the synopsis of it included in the Sundance Film Guide. I knew it would be quirky (which it was…charmingly so), and I had a strong feeling I was going to like it quite a bit (ok, so maybe I am biased a bit…screw off). But I had no idea it would grab me the way it did, and just sweep me up in its story. And that was due in large part to the genuine heart and feeling it displayed. Everything seemed real. Nothing seemed particularly contrived. There was a lot about it that really shouldn’t have worked, but somehow Colin Trevorrow and company just refused to let it fall apart and break into segments of over-done clichés. Everything kind of flowed together just right creating a gem of a movie. I know. I’m gushing. And some of that gushing-ness may be fueled by a… I dunno… tangible Sundance glow that has settled over Park City. But I assure you, this film is the real deal.
I’ve often said that the feel of certain movies just grabs me. Safety Not Guaranteed has that sort of feel. It just worked, you know. It was funny, touching, and compelling. Actually, the compelling part may have been the most surprising. The movie does a great job of keeping you guessing. Was Kenneth (Mark Duplass- splendidly hamming it up)- the “time traveler” in question the real deal? Is he insane? Does he have other motives? Just who is he? The movie unravels the answers to these questions rather than answering them in an abrupt, outright way- which is much to its benefit. A lot of the fun of the story is not knowing how it’s all going to turn out. Actually the gradual unraveling of characters isn’t confined solely to Kenneth, though he is the one with the most obvious question marks. Each of the main characters is teased out as the story unwinds. By the end, I really felt like I had a better handle on most of the folks who crossed the screen, and not only that, Trevorrow and crew peel back the layers on each of the main characters in such a way that you feel like you are able to piece it all together yourself. He doesn’t tell you what makes them tick by saying, “this is what makes them tick”, he shows you what makes them tick in various connected scenes and moments in the story. But then, isn’t this how it works in the real world? I’d say it is, and the teasing and unveiling only contribute to that great feel I was talking about. It all just works.
What else does it have going for it? Aubrey Plaza. Actually, one of the treats of attending the screening here at Sundance is the question and answer session afterward. Someone took the opportunity to ask writer Derek Connolly what his inspiration was for the story and the character of Darius Britt. For the story? Well, it’s actually based on a real ad (and, as it turned out, the real ad’s writer was in the freaking audience! A guy really did advertise that he was seeking someone with whom he could travel through time… and unfortunately he was only pointed out in the audience… and not given the opportunity to clarify whether he did, whether it was a joke, or whether he believed he could…damn it) and he took the story from there. Darius Britt? She was based solely on Aubrey Plaza. Turns out Connolly had seen her in Funny People and immediately used her as the model for his Darius character in this movie. And you know what? She nails it. She’s absolutely fantastic here. I’ve only ever seen her in two other movies: the aforementioned Funny People and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. I only vaguely remember her in Scott Pilgrim, but I do recall her being pretty good in Funny People… if a bit one-note. And so she begins here. But, oddly enough, as the movie plays forward an actress capable of nuance and subtle emotion emerges. Sure she brings some of her typical dry wit and expert dead panning to the table, but by the end she allows you to really see what makes Darius tick. And through Plaza’s performance, you get to see Darius grow as the story moves on. Darius is no one-trick pony… and surprisingly… neither is Plaza.
NO: I hate to say that a movie is flawless… but to me, this one comes close. At its heart, it should have been a too-quirky-for-its-own-damn-good, silly comedy. But somehow it ends up being so much more. I will say this, though: I wasn’t nearly so certain of it during its first twenty minutes or so. It did get off to a kind of stumbling start. It started a bit awkwardly… the acting wasn’t quite right… and it looked like it was heading straight for the realm of cheap/mean humor and a healthy dose of tired stereotypes. But then, it found it’s heart, gradually shifted the focus- to a degree- away from the absurd story and more to the characters, and just let everything come together. I imagine some people will be tempted to bail on it or write it off during the first twenty minutes. I’d just urge you to stick with it. The payoff is- in my mind- well worth it.
The Bottom Line: Obviously, I loved the hell out of this movie. I’d be shocked if it doesn’t finish in the top three in audience voting. That said, I’ve only seen one movie here, and it is possible that I’m under the influence of the Sundance glow or buzz. But I really don’t think I am. More than anything else- and as frustrating as it might be- the best way I can sum it up is that the movie, the story, the cast… it all just worked. It really did. When introducing the film, Trevorrow explained that a lot of love went into the making of the movie, and he hoped we’d be able to see that. I sure did. And perhaps because of that- that love, that heart, I can say that a lot of love came out of watching it. Big ups, my man, and well done.
Grade: A+
One more thing: Safety Not Guaranteed was preceded by Nash Edgerton’s short film, Bear. I don’t want to say too much about it… the less you know, the better. But I will say that I can’t remember being so blown away by a movie. I had no idea where it was going. And when it got there… wow. I’m not saying I was blown away in a good way, necessarily… more in a “what the hell just happened way.” Totally taken by surprise. Did I laugh? Yes. Did I hate myself a little afterwards… ummm…yes. Definitely. Check it out if you get a chance.
Movie List 2011: 58.) Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows
Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows
This one may actually be pretty easy... frustratingly easy... mainly because I barely remember a damn thing that happened in it. The plot? Barely registers. It's basically Holmes versus Professor Moriarty- the legendary villain from Doyle's The Final Problem Sherlock Holmes story. Holmes must thwart Moriarty who's hoping to start World War I because he stands to benefit as a weapons dealer of sorts. Or something along those lines. Look, how good can a movie be if you barely remember it a month later?
Actually, I do remember liking it a fair amount. This is mostly due to its inclusion of many of the elements that worked from the first Holmes movie. The witty banter and camaraderie between Robert Downey, Jr's Holmes and Jude Law's Watson. In this effort they director Guy Ritchie and company have seemed to ramp up Holmes' insufferable-ness and Watson's exasperation. But they do stick to a formula known to have worked, and I remember thinking that it was pretty good- except when they attempted to clone elements of the first movie and shove them in the second, whether they fit or not. Don't ask for specifics here- it's just a vague feeling. In the end, I suppose, it was fun enough. Or so I remember thinking. Not quite as fresh as the first go around, but a worthy diversion.
Another thing that I do distinctly remember liking about A Game of Shadows was the inclusion of Moriarty as an earnest foil for Holmes. He's every bit Holmes' intellectual equal. And something of an evil genius. And as I wrote way back in my review of G.I. Joe there just aren't enough true evil geniuses in the movies anymore. Too often you see archenemies exploiting each other's known weaknesses. Rarely do you see them match up so evenly in their strongest quality. Unless that quality is brute strength. You see that often enough- that tends to boil down to who has the bigger heart. Usually the good guy. Here, if you weren't so certain that the franchise was too bankable not to have a third installment, you'd really begin to wonder if Holmes had met his match. It's nice to have a worthy opponent for our screen heroes to battle and Moriarty was definitely an upgrade over Mark Strong's Lord Blackwood. (Though it's tough for me to dump on go-to baddie Mark Strong).
In the end, though, I have to down-grade the movie for one of the things I most vividly remembered about it: it looked terrible. All gray and drab and blanched out for the most part. It looked depressing and dirty. Sure there were some interesting sequences but I think Ritchie took it way too far towards the gritty end of the spectrum. Certainly farther than it needed to go. And maybe that's why I have such trouble remembering it. It just wasn't visually impressive. Nothing to wow me. And maybe I'm just instinctively shutting out all the drabness. I don't know. But I do remember clearly being unimpressed with the look of the film.
Really though, how highly can I rate a movie that is only vaguely memorable...and even then what is memorable about it is nearly evenly split between positive and negative aspects? Clearly, this isn't an A-range movie... but then I do remember walking out of the theater thinking, "Not as good as the first, but really not bad either... just wish it didn't look so bad." Guess I'll have to go with my gut...
Grade: B+
This one may actually be pretty easy... frustratingly easy... mainly because I barely remember a damn thing that happened in it. The plot? Barely registers. It's basically Holmes versus Professor Moriarty- the legendary villain from Doyle's The Final Problem Sherlock Holmes story. Holmes must thwart Moriarty who's hoping to start World War I because he stands to benefit as a weapons dealer of sorts. Or something along those lines. Look, how good can a movie be if you barely remember it a month later?
Actually, I do remember liking it a fair amount. This is mostly due to its inclusion of many of the elements that worked from the first Holmes movie. The witty banter and camaraderie between Robert Downey, Jr's Holmes and Jude Law's Watson. In this effort they director Guy Ritchie and company have seemed to ramp up Holmes' insufferable-ness and Watson's exasperation. But they do stick to a formula known to have worked, and I remember thinking that it was pretty good- except when they attempted to clone elements of the first movie and shove them in the second, whether they fit or not. Don't ask for specifics here- it's just a vague feeling. In the end, I suppose, it was fun enough. Or so I remember thinking. Not quite as fresh as the first go around, but a worthy diversion.
Another thing that I do distinctly remember liking about A Game of Shadows was the inclusion of Moriarty as an earnest foil for Holmes. He's every bit Holmes' intellectual equal. And something of an evil genius. And as I wrote way back in my review of G.I. Joe there just aren't enough true evil geniuses in the movies anymore. Too often you see archenemies exploiting each other's known weaknesses. Rarely do you see them match up so evenly in their strongest quality. Unless that quality is brute strength. You see that often enough- that tends to boil down to who has the bigger heart. Usually the good guy. Here, if you weren't so certain that the franchise was too bankable not to have a third installment, you'd really begin to wonder if Holmes had met his match. It's nice to have a worthy opponent for our screen heroes to battle and Moriarty was definitely an upgrade over Mark Strong's Lord Blackwood. (Though it's tough for me to dump on go-to baddie Mark Strong).
In the end, though, I have to down-grade the movie for one of the things I most vividly remembered about it: it looked terrible. All gray and drab and blanched out for the most part. It looked depressing and dirty. Sure there were some interesting sequences but I think Ritchie took it way too far towards the gritty end of the spectrum. Certainly farther than it needed to go. And maybe that's why I have such trouble remembering it. It just wasn't visually impressive. Nothing to wow me. And maybe I'm just instinctively shutting out all the drabness. I don't know. But I do remember clearly being unimpressed with the look of the film.
Really though, how highly can I rate a movie that is only vaguely memorable...and even then what is memorable about it is nearly evenly split between positive and negative aspects? Clearly, this isn't an A-range movie... but then I do remember walking out of the theater thinking, "Not as good as the first, but really not bad either... just wish it didn't look so bad." Guess I'll have to go with my gut...
Grade: B+
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Old Favorites: 2.) The Muppet Christmas Carol
The Muppet Christmas Carol
Every year, my lovely and amazing girlfriend, Courtney, and I make an effort to watch at least one Christmas movie and a few Christmas specials (of the Peanut, Garfield, Grinch variety). I suppose I indulge in this tradition as a way of staving off the increasing jadedness that is trying to become routine with Christmas for me. It is, after all, just another day on the calendar. And, as I'm no longer much of a religious guy, it really shouldn't have too much of a deeper meaning for me. I find it hard to believe that Christmas day...December 25th... in and of itself has any inherent positive or magical qualities to it. It is what we make of it. If I woke up convinced that Christmas was going to be an absolute shitfest of a day, well... then... it probably will be. If the idea of Christmas magic isn't dead for me already, it's certainly on life support. Watching these movies and specials, however, tends to help perk the old ideal up... and maybe I can be more tolerable during this time of the year. In related news: when did I become such a raging asshole.
Maybe it isn't that bad, but if I'm not careful I'm going to end up- at least at Christmas- as a cynical, friendless mess. And if watching Christmas movies helps prevent that, well, I shouldn't fight it.
Anyway, we continued the tradition this year with a viewing of one of my old favorites: The Muppet Christmas Carol. Yep. A grown-ass man likes his Muppet movie. I have no problem with this. And yes, even though it had been a few years since I had last seen it, my opinion remained the same: it's a damn good Christmas flick.
In truth, I'm not a huge fan of Dicken's A Christmas Carol. Allow me to elaborate. I've never read the novella. But the story- as traditionally presented- just doesn't do much for me (but Muppets apparently do... ugh). To me, the story is overburdened with far too much overt moralizing. Yeah, I get it, old Scrooge needs to make himself a better person or he'll be facing an eternity of damnation and a lifetime of scorn. So, three ghosts learn him a lesson or two. A Christmas miracle occurs. He changes. Christmas is wonderful for everyone. And they all lived happily ever after...until they died of some horrendous and incurable disease of the late 19th century. But at least Scrooge won't face eternal damnation. I dunno. It all seems so heavy-handed. No subtlety. It's just too serious.
Of course, eventually Jim Henson's band of merrymakers come along to deliver a much more palatable translation of the time-honored tale. Thankfully. And so we have one of the best tongue-in-cheek Christmas movies out there, The Muppet Christmas Carol. Brian Henson, the film's director (and diseased Muppet grandmaster Jim Henson's son) does an excellent job balancing the heavy morality tale with the warm-hearted, zany anarchy that made the Muppets so much fun to watch- as an adult anyway. Henson never lets the movie take itself too seriously. The point is still driven home, though. But, as Mary Poppins was so fond of singing, a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. Henson lobs a sackful of sugar down our gullets to pretty much drown out the taste of medicine. The effect is the same though- the medicine is taken.
Really though, I think the movie won me over for a handful of relatively simple reasons:
1.) Casting Michael Caine as Scrooge. Caine is one of my all-time favorite actors. He's fantastic. And to see him bring that effortless professionalism to a role that required him to interact with glorified sock puppets is awesome. Caine set the tone for the film. Was it kid-safe zany? Sure, it's the Muppets, but Caine's superb performance elevated it from being merely a kids' movie to being a darn-good Christmas movie period. Love that guy.
2.) Having Gonzo play Charles Dickens... the narrator of the story. I don't know why, but I just find Gonzo compelling. And for reasons I've completely squared away, I find Charles Dickens to be the antithesis of compelling. Any movie that transforms Dickens into a mysterious blue furry alien is ok in my book. Teaming him with a mouthy rat makes it even better, but Gonzo more or less steals the show here.
3.) Waldorf and Statler. Love those wise-cracking Muppets. Featuring them in all their pun-hurling glory as Jacob and Robert (Bob?) Marley was a fantastic choice. First rate, horrible jokes. They're so bad you just have to laugh.
And that about sums it up. I can't deny that A Christmas Carol is a classic tale; that doesn't mean I have to like it. Thankfully, there is a version I enjoy. I don't mean to imply that it's a perfect movie. Far from it. It does tend to stray a little too far toward overly cutesy at times. And there are the plethora of annoyingly catchy songs. Typical kids' movie stuff. Kids apparently swallow their medicine better if delivered in song form. The songs aren't any worse than any other kids' movie, they just aren't better... but whether you like them or not, they tend to worm their way into your brain and take up stubborn residence there. Beyond that though? It's- to me- the perfect version of the tale, and a great movie to get me out of my encroaching holiday-related cynical funk. Thankfully. Definitely one of my favorite Christmas movies.
Every year, my lovely and amazing girlfriend, Courtney, and I make an effort to watch at least one Christmas movie and a few Christmas specials (of the Peanut, Garfield, Grinch variety). I suppose I indulge in this tradition as a way of staving off the increasing jadedness that is trying to become routine with Christmas for me. It is, after all, just another day on the calendar. And, as I'm no longer much of a religious guy, it really shouldn't have too much of a deeper meaning for me. I find it hard to believe that Christmas day...December 25th... in and of itself has any inherent positive or magical qualities to it. It is what we make of it. If I woke up convinced that Christmas was going to be an absolute shitfest of a day, well... then... it probably will be. If the idea of Christmas magic isn't dead for me already, it's certainly on life support. Watching these movies and specials, however, tends to help perk the old ideal up... and maybe I can be more tolerable during this time of the year. In related news: when did I become such a raging asshole.
Maybe it isn't that bad, but if I'm not careful I'm going to end up- at least at Christmas- as a cynical, friendless mess. And if watching Christmas movies helps prevent that, well, I shouldn't fight it.
Anyway, we continued the tradition this year with a viewing of one of my old favorites: The Muppet Christmas Carol. Yep. A grown-ass man likes his Muppet movie. I have no problem with this. And yes, even though it had been a few years since I had last seen it, my opinion remained the same: it's a damn good Christmas flick.
In truth, I'm not a huge fan of Dicken's A Christmas Carol. Allow me to elaborate. I've never read the novella. But the story- as traditionally presented- just doesn't do much for me (but Muppets apparently do... ugh). To me, the story is overburdened with far too much overt moralizing. Yeah, I get it, old Scrooge needs to make himself a better person or he'll be facing an eternity of damnation and a lifetime of scorn. So, three ghosts learn him a lesson or two. A Christmas miracle occurs. He changes. Christmas is wonderful for everyone. And they all lived happily ever after...until they died of some horrendous and incurable disease of the late 19th century. But at least Scrooge won't face eternal damnation. I dunno. It all seems so heavy-handed. No subtlety. It's just too serious.
Of course, eventually Jim Henson's band of merrymakers come along to deliver a much more palatable translation of the time-honored tale. Thankfully. And so we have one of the best tongue-in-cheek Christmas movies out there, The Muppet Christmas Carol. Brian Henson, the film's director (and diseased Muppet grandmaster Jim Henson's son) does an excellent job balancing the heavy morality tale with the warm-hearted, zany anarchy that made the Muppets so much fun to watch- as an adult anyway. Henson never lets the movie take itself too seriously. The point is still driven home, though. But, as Mary Poppins was so fond of singing, a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. Henson lobs a sackful of sugar down our gullets to pretty much drown out the taste of medicine. The effect is the same though- the medicine is taken.
Really though, I think the movie won me over for a handful of relatively simple reasons:
1.) Casting Michael Caine as Scrooge. Caine is one of my all-time favorite actors. He's fantastic. And to see him bring that effortless professionalism to a role that required him to interact with glorified sock puppets is awesome. Caine set the tone for the film. Was it kid-safe zany? Sure, it's the Muppets, but Caine's superb performance elevated it from being merely a kids' movie to being a darn-good Christmas movie period. Love that guy.
2.) Having Gonzo play Charles Dickens... the narrator of the story. I don't know why, but I just find Gonzo compelling. And for reasons I've completely squared away, I find Charles Dickens to be the antithesis of compelling. Any movie that transforms Dickens into a mysterious blue furry alien is ok in my book. Teaming him with a mouthy rat makes it even better, but Gonzo more or less steals the show here.
3.) Waldorf and Statler. Love those wise-cracking Muppets. Featuring them in all their pun-hurling glory as Jacob and Robert (Bob?) Marley was a fantastic choice. First rate, horrible jokes. They're so bad you just have to laugh.
And that about sums it up. I can't deny that A Christmas Carol is a classic tale; that doesn't mean I have to like it. Thankfully, there is a version I enjoy. I don't mean to imply that it's a perfect movie. Far from it. It does tend to stray a little too far toward overly cutesy at times. And there are the plethora of annoyingly catchy songs. Typical kids' movie stuff. Kids apparently swallow their medicine better if delivered in song form. The songs aren't any worse than any other kids' movie, they just aren't better... but whether you like them or not, they tend to worm their way into your brain and take up stubborn residence there. Beyond that though? It's- to me- the perfect version of the tale, and a great movie to get me out of my encroaching holiday-related cynical funk. Thankfully. Definitely one of my favorite Christmas movies.
Movie List 2011: 57.) Hugo
Hugo
Continuing to play catch up now that I've finally discarded the albatross that was having to write about New Year's Eve...
I suppose I'm not typically one to make sweeping, definitive statements, but I will say this about Hugo: it was, by far, the most gorgeously shot kids' movie I have ever seen. Easily. Actually, I can probably take the "kids' movie" qualifier off and just say that it was a gorgeous movie to see. Loved the look of it. Typical Marty Scorsese too. In every Scorsese flick I've seen, it's been apparent that he's aiming for a distinct look and feel, and he always nails it. Hugo is more of the same. The bottom line? Scorsese is one hell of a director. How else can you explain a man who can craft equally compelling mob movies, sports epics, documentaries, and kids' flicks. Skilled. Crazy skilled.
And so he is.
Actually, I feel as though I'm being dismissive of Hugo by simply referring to it as a kids' flick. I mean, it certainly should hold a certain appeal for kids. Enough prat falls and child-like notions of "adventure" to hopefully keep kids entranced. Well, if not, there's always the fact that it's a 3D movie. I (of course) did not see it in 3D, and I don't think I missed out on much. Except the headaches. Don't really miss those though. Back to the point... I think that labeling it a children's movie only serves to needlessly limit its appeal. I mean, how many grown, childless adults willingly go see a movie geared towards kids. Not many. And truthfully, I had to convince myself to go to this one. It should have a broader appeal. Anyone who likes skillfully crafted movies should see it. Anyone who fancies themselves a cinephile should go see it. Any Marty fan should definitely see it. And, in fact, anyone who just likes a nice, entertaining story should go see it. Plain and simple, Hugo is just a good movie. Period.
So yeah, the story. The movie follows the exploits of one Hugo Cabret (excellently portrayed by relative newcomer Asa Butterfield), an abandoned orphan living (and working) in the clock tower of the Paris train station. Hugo's father (Jude Law)... a museum curator? (or clock maker... it's been a while and I can't remember)... perished in a tragic fire. His uncle (the former tenant of the clock tower) takes Hugo in and puts him to work... all the better to allow him to drink himself to death. One day, Uncle goes missing, and Hugo's left to tend to the clock tower all by himself. With so much tragedy circling him, what could possibly keep Hugo going? How about a dogged fascination with an automaton discovered by his father before his father passed away? (and really there are only two acceptable reactions to mysterious automatons, dogged fascination or outright fear- those things are creepy). Hugo and his father had spent days, weeks, and months trying to figure out how to fix the automaton and figure out it's purpose. It eventually becomes clear: the machine was designed to write a message, and following the death of Mr. Cabret, Hugo is convinced the secret message the automaton needs to deliver will essentially be a message from his late father. You can understand, then, why Hugo would be obsessed with the creepy-ass machine, it's his last and lasting link to his father. So Hugo simply needs to get the thing working...which means he has to find gears and various other parts...where does he get them? The stations resident toy-seller/magician (Ben Kingsley...doing what he does...which is, of course, delivering a fine performance). When the old man gets wise to Hugo's thievery and finds out why he's been stealing, that's when things get interesting, and adventure ensues... I mean other than the adventure of trying to stay out of the grasp of the station's chief inspector (an overly hammy Sacha Baron Cohen)... who simply can't suffer mooching urchins.
Eventually, Hugo delves into the early history of the film industry, when filmmakers were seen as modern (for the time) magicians. When anything seemed possible-as it still does today- but when that limitless possibility took on a feel of innocent awe... and...child-like wonder. It's this spirit, the spirit of wonder that sits square at the center of the movie. Hugo, in the end, finds himself on a journey of discovery- along with the old magician's niece (a typically fantastic Chloe Grace Moretz) and he meets each new twist and turn with a sense of awe. The refreshing earnestness with which this is portrayed easily won me over. I was in awe right along with Hugo. How incredible it must have been to turn such magic tricks on film. Scorsese is clearly holds the history of his craft with reverence and prompts his audience to feel the same way. Not everyone will, but I was certainly along for the ride.
You know, it doesn't happen often, but every now and again, a movie makes me feel a little like a kid again...or perhaps makes me want to be a kid again. I don't really know if I'm unique, but I rarely feel much longing to be a kid anymore. I enjoy the freedom of adulthood and fully realize that childhood wasn't as simply as nostalgia-laden minds would have you believe. Was it easier on the whole? Yeah sure, but it was limited- necessarily. Why go back to that. Then I see a movie like Hugo and I realize what I do miss about being younger: the ability to be easily amazed. The sense of unbridled adventure...hell, the idea that true adventure did exist. Hugo captures these ideas expertly. I found myself wanting to be Hugo, wishing I could be amazed as completely again. It just doesn't happen that often anymore. Cynicism, jadedness, and, of course, intelligence (on some level) tend to accompany adulthood for better or worse. Amazing things just don't happen anymore... and when they do, I often find myself becoming fixated on why they happen or how, all the while completely forgetting to just sit back and enjoy the moment. And let myself be awed. For me, Hugo essentially served as a much-needed reminder... if not a wake-up call. Find adventure. Be amazed. And- perhaps- above all else, find the kid inside of you and indulge it again. When Hugo and company take that tour through the dawn of movie-making... where the audience could be moved to fear by the sight of a train rushing towards the screen... everyone who takes in the old films- both young and old- find that reason to be amazed again... as did I. These aren't the feats of some silly kids' movie, but the efforts of a crafty cinema wizard at the height of his craft. Well played, Mr. Scorsese, well played.
Grade: A
Continuing to play catch up now that I've finally discarded the albatross that was having to write about New Year's Eve...
I suppose I'm not typically one to make sweeping, definitive statements, but I will say this about Hugo: it was, by far, the most gorgeously shot kids' movie I have ever seen. Easily. Actually, I can probably take the "kids' movie" qualifier off and just say that it was a gorgeous movie to see. Loved the look of it. Typical Marty Scorsese too. In every Scorsese flick I've seen, it's been apparent that he's aiming for a distinct look and feel, and he always nails it. Hugo is more of the same. The bottom line? Scorsese is one hell of a director. How else can you explain a man who can craft equally compelling mob movies, sports epics, documentaries, and kids' flicks. Skilled. Crazy skilled.
And so he is.
Actually, I feel as though I'm being dismissive of Hugo by simply referring to it as a kids' flick. I mean, it certainly should hold a certain appeal for kids. Enough prat falls and child-like notions of "adventure" to hopefully keep kids entranced. Well, if not, there's always the fact that it's a 3D movie. I (of course) did not see it in 3D, and I don't think I missed out on much. Except the headaches. Don't really miss those though. Back to the point... I think that labeling it a children's movie only serves to needlessly limit its appeal. I mean, how many grown, childless adults willingly go see a movie geared towards kids. Not many. And truthfully, I had to convince myself to go to this one. It should have a broader appeal. Anyone who likes skillfully crafted movies should see it. Anyone who fancies themselves a cinephile should go see it. Any Marty fan should definitely see it. And, in fact, anyone who just likes a nice, entertaining story should go see it. Plain and simple, Hugo is just a good movie. Period.
So yeah, the story. The movie follows the exploits of one Hugo Cabret (excellently portrayed by relative newcomer Asa Butterfield), an abandoned orphan living (and working) in the clock tower of the Paris train station. Hugo's father (Jude Law)... a museum curator? (or clock maker... it's been a while and I can't remember)... perished in a tragic fire. His uncle (the former tenant of the clock tower) takes Hugo in and puts him to work... all the better to allow him to drink himself to death. One day, Uncle goes missing, and Hugo's left to tend to the clock tower all by himself. With so much tragedy circling him, what could possibly keep Hugo going? How about a dogged fascination with an automaton discovered by his father before his father passed away? (and really there are only two acceptable reactions to mysterious automatons, dogged fascination or outright fear- those things are creepy). Hugo and his father had spent days, weeks, and months trying to figure out how to fix the automaton and figure out it's purpose. It eventually becomes clear: the machine was designed to write a message, and following the death of Mr. Cabret, Hugo is convinced the secret message the automaton needs to deliver will essentially be a message from his late father. You can understand, then, why Hugo would be obsessed with the creepy-ass machine, it's his last and lasting link to his father. So Hugo simply needs to get the thing working...which means he has to find gears and various other parts...where does he get them? The stations resident toy-seller/magician (Ben Kingsley...doing what he does...which is, of course, delivering a fine performance). When the old man gets wise to Hugo's thievery and finds out why he's been stealing, that's when things get interesting, and adventure ensues... I mean other than the adventure of trying to stay out of the grasp of the station's chief inspector (an overly hammy Sacha Baron Cohen)... who simply can't suffer mooching urchins.
Eventually, Hugo delves into the early history of the film industry, when filmmakers were seen as modern (for the time) magicians. When anything seemed possible-as it still does today- but when that limitless possibility took on a feel of innocent awe... and...child-like wonder. It's this spirit, the spirit of wonder that sits square at the center of the movie. Hugo, in the end, finds himself on a journey of discovery- along with the old magician's niece (a typically fantastic Chloe Grace Moretz) and he meets each new twist and turn with a sense of awe. The refreshing earnestness with which this is portrayed easily won me over. I was in awe right along with Hugo. How incredible it must have been to turn such magic tricks on film. Scorsese is clearly holds the history of his craft with reverence and prompts his audience to feel the same way. Not everyone will, but I was certainly along for the ride.
You know, it doesn't happen often, but every now and again, a movie makes me feel a little like a kid again...or perhaps makes me want to be a kid again. I don't really know if I'm unique, but I rarely feel much longing to be a kid anymore. I enjoy the freedom of adulthood and fully realize that childhood wasn't as simply as nostalgia-laden minds would have you believe. Was it easier on the whole? Yeah sure, but it was limited- necessarily. Why go back to that. Then I see a movie like Hugo and I realize what I do miss about being younger: the ability to be easily amazed. The sense of unbridled adventure...hell, the idea that true adventure did exist. Hugo captures these ideas expertly. I found myself wanting to be Hugo, wishing I could be amazed as completely again. It just doesn't happen that often anymore. Cynicism, jadedness, and, of course, intelligence (on some level) tend to accompany adulthood for better or worse. Amazing things just don't happen anymore... and when they do, I often find myself becoming fixated on why they happen or how, all the while completely forgetting to just sit back and enjoy the moment. And let myself be awed. For me, Hugo essentially served as a much-needed reminder... if not a wake-up call. Find adventure. Be amazed. And- perhaps- above all else, find the kid inside of you and indulge it again. When Hugo and company take that tour through the dawn of movie-making... where the audience could be moved to fear by the sight of a train rushing towards the screen... everyone who takes in the old films- both young and old- find that reason to be amazed again... as did I. These aren't the feats of some silly kids' movie, but the efforts of a crafty cinema wizard at the height of his craft. Well played, Mr. Scorsese, well played.
Grade: A
Movie List 2011: 56.) New Year's Eve
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
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)