There's no way I would have been allowed to watch Coraline in my cloistered childhood. The eerie poster alone would have sent my parents hunting for the safe, brightly colored haven of Disney, movies where parental lookalikes don't attack their children and hands stay attached to their owners. Which seems a bit boring, but that's what safety is all about. After all, I had nightmares after seeing Harry and the Hendersons, so I have to admit that perhaps my parents had some idea what they were doing. But I digress...
Based on the novel by Neil Gaiman, the stop-motion film Coraline belongs on the hallowed shelf right next to The Wizard of Oz and Spirited Away. It's a children's fantasy that would make Lewis Carroll, Terry Gilliam, and the book's author, the twisted genius Gaiman, proud. This is a gleefully, hilariously dark film that enjoys playing in the shadows, and it isn't afraid that it might send some children running for the exits.
Coraline (voiced by Dakota Fanning) is the only child of a mother and dad (Teri Hatcher and John Hodgman) who spend their days creating a gardening catalog. Buried in their work, her parents consistently tell her to go away, that is, when they're paying any attention to her at all. But Coraline has their new apartment to explore: a rickety, Victorian-style house that also is home to two retired actresses (Jennifer Saunders and Dawn French) and a Russian man (Ian McShane) who is training his mice in a circus. She also befriends a neighbor boy, but she tires of his constant chatter. When she discovers a hidden door that takes to to a shiny, new apartment that looks like hers--only better--and a new mother and father, who look like hers--only better--Coraline is tempted to stay for awhile. But her "other mother" (Hatcher again)--though a good cook who actually pays attention to Coraline--may have more sinister ideas in mind than just stuffing Coraline full of hearty food. More plot and visual details might spoil the fun, but Coraline is a jaw-dropping delight that I was more than a little sad to see fade to black.
Though the term "stop-motion animation" may spark memories of childhood viewings of Gumby, Selick's ambitious work is so refined that it could stand against any of Pixar's computer-animated offerings. The visuals are seamless, not to mention incredibly inventive and visibly painstaking in their construction. Huge amounts of effort went into the production, and it's obvious in every frame. It's not a stretch to call Coraline a work of art, but that's not to say that it isn't incredibly entertaining as well.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Confessions of a Shopaholic
In the current economic climate, it'd be easy to rail against conspicuous-consumption champion Confessions of a Shopaholic. The film attempts to be a cautionary tale against spending more than you can afford, but it spends its entire 100-minute run time hypocritically celebrating Sex and the City-level spending and fetishization of designer labels. The makers of Shopaholic should certainly feel guilty for the product they've made, but not for its message; they should regret making such a truly awful film.
Wedding Crashers' Isla Fisher stars as Rebecca Bloomwood, a girl with high heels and a low credit rating thanks to her shopping addiction. To get an in at Vogue stand-in "Alette," Becky takes a job at a financial magazine, writing a column about saving. With a debt collector trying to sniff out her designer perfume, Becky tries to keep her financial foibles a secret from the rest of the world, especially her charming new boss, Luke Brandon (Hugh Dancy). But how can she behave when shiny new toys beckon?
Shopaholic does have one thing going for it: its cast. Buoyed by the bouncy Fisher as the titular addict, this comedy features a list of recognizable faces as long as its heroine's credit card bill: Hugh Dancy, Kristin Scott Thomas, Krysten Ritter, John Goodman, Joan Cusack, Fred Armisen, Lynn Redgrave, John Lithgow, Leslie Bibb, Julie Hagerty, etc. But almost everyone's part is small, perhaps the problem of cobbling together a single script from two novels by Sophie Kinsella, Confessions of a Shopaholic and Shopaholic Takes Manhattan. The transition to film is a shaky one; the first book's London setting becomes Manhattan, and it loses a bit of its luster in the process (though perhaps this sometimes Anglophile and current New York resident finds that the move hits a bit too close to home). The worst addition? Ridiculous talking mannequins that tempt Becky into buying. They're silly, out of place, and poorly done. I expect better effects from a movie produced by Jerry Bruckheimer of all people.
Another of the film's faults is that many plot elements are glossed over, particularly Becky's romance with Luke. She gushes over a pair of Pucci boots far more than she does her potential beau, and there's the problem with calling Shopaholic a romantic comedy: there's far too little love here for that distinction. But for that matter, there's also far too little comedy, which is especially surprising given the level of talent here.
Wedding Crashers' Isla Fisher stars as Rebecca Bloomwood, a girl with high heels and a low credit rating thanks to her shopping addiction. To get an in at Vogue stand-in "Alette," Becky takes a job at a financial magazine, writing a column about saving. With a debt collector trying to sniff out her designer perfume, Becky tries to keep her financial foibles a secret from the rest of the world, especially her charming new boss, Luke Brandon (Hugh Dancy). But how can she behave when shiny new toys beckon?
Shopaholic does have one thing going for it: its cast. Buoyed by the bouncy Fisher as the titular addict, this comedy features a list of recognizable faces as long as its heroine's credit card bill: Hugh Dancy, Kristin Scott Thomas, Krysten Ritter, John Goodman, Joan Cusack, Fred Armisen, Lynn Redgrave, John Lithgow, Leslie Bibb, Julie Hagerty, etc. But almost everyone's part is small, perhaps the problem of cobbling together a single script from two novels by Sophie Kinsella, Confessions of a Shopaholic and Shopaholic Takes Manhattan. The transition to film is a shaky one; the first book's London setting becomes Manhattan, and it loses a bit of its luster in the process (though perhaps this sometimes Anglophile and current New York resident finds that the move hits a bit too close to home). The worst addition? Ridiculous talking mannequins that tempt Becky into buying. They're silly, out of place, and poorly done. I expect better effects from a movie produced by Jerry Bruckheimer of all people.
Another of the film's faults is that many plot elements are glossed over, particularly Becky's romance with Luke. She gushes over a pair of Pucci boots far more than she does her potential beau, and there's the problem with calling Shopaholic a romantic comedy: there's far too little love here for that distinction. But for that matter, there's also far too little comedy, which is especially surprising given the level of talent here.
Monday, February 16, 2009
The Class
Ably blending fact and fiction, the French drama The Class takes a real teacher and nonprofessional young actors and creates a true-to-life story. Director Laurent Cantet (Heading South) and actor/co-screenwriter Francois Begaudeau crafted the bones of the story based on Beaudeau's own novel about his experiences as a teacher. Then through workshops and improvisation with their teen actors, they chronicle life in a junior high classroom.
Begaudeau stars as Francois, a teacher in a school in a difficult part of Paris. Francois doesn't seem to be trying to have his students make intellectual leaps and bounds; instead, it's all about baby steps and just trying to survive the year with the frequently trying teens. Though there are good, hardworking members of the classroom, many of the students, especially Souleymane (Franck Keita), push Francois until he finally cracks, creating a rift in the classroom that pits him against his students.
Shot to resemble a documentary, The Class is alternately inspiring and heartbreaking. But those hoping for a French version of Dead Poets Society or Dangerous Minds will be surprised by the decidedly realistic, almost impossibly tough picture of a classroom presented here. There aren't any grand epiphanies where all the students suddenly realize the value of learning. Instead, The Class shows that even with the best of intentions, teachers sometimes can't create happy endings for all their students.
Begaudeau stars as Francois, a teacher in a school in a difficult part of Paris. Francois doesn't seem to be trying to have his students make intellectual leaps and bounds; instead, it's all about baby steps and just trying to survive the year with the frequently trying teens. Though there are good, hardworking members of the classroom, many of the students, especially Souleymane (Franck Keita), push Francois until he finally cracks, creating a rift in the classroom that pits him against his students.
Shot to resemble a documentary, The Class is alternately inspiring and heartbreaking. But those hoping for a French version of Dead Poets Society or Dangerous Minds will be surprised by the decidedly realistic, almost impossibly tough picture of a classroom presented here. There aren't any grand epiphanies where all the students suddenly realize the value of learning. Instead, The Class shows that even with the best of intentions, teachers sometimes can't create happy endings for all their students.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
He's Just Not That Into You
He's Just Not That Into You is like P.T. Anderson for morons. An elaborate flowchart could be constructed to map the ways that each character is connected, since there seems to be a link between everyone in the film (she works with him, and he's married to that girl, and she is friends with so-and-so, etc.). Director Ken Kwapis (the unwatchable License to Wed and the awesome The Office) even--coincidentally--casts Anderson favorite Luis Guzman in a small role, which is undoubtedly the highlight of the film. But that's where the similarities end. Somehow HJNTIY isn't even an especially bad film, though it sure is a dumb one.
Based on a self-help book (which was based on an episode of Sex and the City), this romantic comedy boasts a ridiculous number of stars: Jennifer Connelly, Jennifer Aniston, Ben Affleck, Bradley Cooper, Ginnifer Goodwin, Justin Long, Drew Barrymore, Kevin Connolly, Scarlett Johansson, and, umm, Kris Kristofferson. Each of the major characters is experiencing a romantic crisis: one is tempted to cheat, another wants to marry her long-time boyfriend, while one girl (the adorable Goodwin) just wants to find the one, even if she has to resort to cringe-inducing tactics. Every situation is a cliche (though that does seem to be part of the point), and everything wraps up exactly how we might guess it will. There are some pleasant surprises in the dialogue, but the cast is far better than the material here. There were moments where I was watching Jennifer Connelly on screen, thinking, "This poor woman has won an Oscar."
Ultimately, HJNTIY offers no wisdom on the state of male and female relationships, which considering its source material seems at once incredibly ironic and entirely appropriate. It tries to say something transcendent about love, but it says nothing other than, "Women are stupid. Especially when it comes to relationships." Each of the women in the film as as though they're entirely brainless when there's a man involved. I'm not saying that it's entirely unrealistic, but my complaint is that there doesn't seem to be any alternative. There's not a woman who seems to keep her head here. The worst thing? Women in my theater were eating it all up like a post-break-up pint of Ben and Jerry's.
Based on a self-help book (which was based on an episode of Sex and the City), this romantic comedy boasts a ridiculous number of stars: Jennifer Connelly, Jennifer Aniston, Ben Affleck, Bradley Cooper, Ginnifer Goodwin, Justin Long, Drew Barrymore, Kevin Connolly, Scarlett Johansson, and, umm, Kris Kristofferson. Each of the major characters is experiencing a romantic crisis: one is tempted to cheat, another wants to marry her long-time boyfriend, while one girl (the adorable Goodwin) just wants to find the one, even if she has to resort to cringe-inducing tactics. Every situation is a cliche (though that does seem to be part of the point), and everything wraps up exactly how we might guess it will. There are some pleasant surprises in the dialogue, but the cast is far better than the material here. There were moments where I was watching Jennifer Connelly on screen, thinking, "This poor woman has won an Oscar."
Ultimately, HJNTIY offers no wisdom on the state of male and female relationships, which considering its source material seems at once incredibly ironic and entirely appropriate. It tries to say something transcendent about love, but it says nothing other than, "Women are stupid. Especially when it comes to relationships." Each of the women in the film as as though they're entirely brainless when there's a man involved. I'm not saying that it's entirely unrealistic, but my complaint is that there doesn't seem to be any alternative. There's not a woman who seems to keep her head here. The worst thing? Women in my theater were eating it all up like a post-break-up pint of Ben and Jerry's.
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