If the recent upholding of Prop 8, the gray weather, or some bad news at your job isn't enough to get you down, there's always today's DVD release of Revolutionary Road to do the trick.
What begins as a briefly sweet romance between Kate Winslet's April and Leonardo DiCaprio's Frank Wheeler quickly descends into relationship hell. Like the film version of He's Just Not That Into You (and I'm guessing the book, too), Revolutionary Road behaves like a how-not-to handbook for romantic interaction. These reluctant suburbanites fight dirty, making sure that each verbal barb is a lethal one capable of killing any self-esteem or satisfaction.
Based on Richard Yates's oh-so depressing (and far superior) novel, Revolutionary Road is set in the 1950s. Frank wastes his time at a New York City job, then he makes the dreaded commute home to Connecticut, where his wife labors at a job she never wanted: housewife. An unplanned pregnancy forced the pair into the suburbs, and neither is happy with where they've ended up, geographically or career-wise. Their attempts at escape don't remove them from their situation, and they brutally take it out on one another.
Like Yates's book, Revolutionary Road is cold and detached, but unlike the book, it seems to want to be more. Directed by American Beauty helmer (and Winslet's husband) Sam Mendes, the drama rants about the evils of suburbia, but it's not a very effective denouncement. Of course, DiCaprio and Winslet deliver fantastic, grimace-giving performances, but the highest praise should go to Oscar nominee Michael Shannon, who plays a neighbor's son who is a fantastic combination of mental patient and highly astute observer.
Though the novel came out decades ago, the adaptation seems to be nipping at the heels of TV's Mad Men. Both the film and the series explore the same themes, but the AMC drama does it with far more style and success.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Star Trek
Once thought to be as passé as Yeoman Rand's beehive, the world of Star Trek is now cool again, not that the true believers ever asked for your approval (well, maybe just that one time). To date, J.J. Abrams's blockbuster reboot has earned more than $150 million, allowing trekkers to laugh openly at jokes about redshirts and the Vulcan neck pinch. And despite all Abrams's statements about being on the wrong side of the Star Trek vs. Star Wars debate, the creator of Lost and Alias was the perfect man for the director's chair.
Like Abrams's TV shows, Star Trek is full of labyrinthine plots, insider references, and pretty people who can actually act. For this, Star Trek's eleventh voyage onto the big screen, Abrams went back to the beginning (not Enterprise!), for Kirk's (Chris Pine) first encounter with Spock (Zachary Quinto) and his first meeting with his true love, his ship. The plot revolves around a tattoed Romulan named Nero (Eric Bana), bent on revenge against the Federation, but that all seems secondary to the introduction of new versions of the iconic characters. Each actor seems perfectly cast, and though they seem to be aware of their predecessors, the performances never resort to caricature or impersonations. There's not a weak link here; even the pretty boy Pine plays Kirk like a badass I can enjoy. But I was most entertained by Simon Pegg as Scotty, Karl Urban as "Bones" McCoy, and Anton Yelchin as Chekov. They're largely there for comic relief (and a brief break from the special effects-driven action), but they aren't disposable characters.
Positioning Star Trek for an early summer release (rather than its initial December date) was a perfect move by Paramount. This is summer entertainment at its best: big action sequences are balanced by moments of humor, and though it's lighthearted, it's never mindless. The May weather maybe near perfect at times, but it's worth missing a few hours of sunshine for this. Your skin--and inner geek--will thank you.
Like Abrams's TV shows, Star Trek is full of labyrinthine plots, insider references, and pretty people who can actually act. For this, Star Trek's eleventh voyage onto the big screen, Abrams went back to the beginning (not Enterprise!), for Kirk's (Chris Pine) first encounter with Spock (Zachary Quinto) and his first meeting with his true love, his ship. The plot revolves around a tattoed Romulan named Nero (Eric Bana), bent on revenge against the Federation, but that all seems secondary to the introduction of new versions of the iconic characters. Each actor seems perfectly cast, and though they seem to be aware of their predecessors, the performances never resort to caricature or impersonations. There's not a weak link here; even the pretty boy Pine plays Kirk like a badass I can enjoy. But I was most entertained by Simon Pegg as Scotty, Karl Urban as "Bones" McCoy, and Anton Yelchin as Chekov. They're largely there for comic relief (and a brief break from the special effects-driven action), but they aren't disposable characters.
Positioning Star Trek for an early summer release (rather than its initial December date) was a perfect move by Paramount. This is summer entertainment at its best: big action sequences are balanced by moments of humor, and though it's lighthearted, it's never mindless. The May weather maybe near perfect at times, but it's worth missing a few hours of sunshine for this. Your skin--and inner geek--will thank you.
Anvil! The Story of Anvil
I was wondering if I could handle Anvil! The Story of Anvil. Before seeing the documentary about the '80s metal band, I didn't know if my mellow, Feist-loving self could take 90 minutes of hard rocking and head banging. But from the film's opening minutes, Anvil! (and Anvil themselves) had me in its leather-gloved grip with its potent mixture of humor and heart.
For the uninitiated (like me), Anvil is a band that inspired the biggest names in '80s rock, including Metallica, Guns N' Roses, and Anthrax. But unlike those heavy metal heavyweights, Anvil never reached superstar status. Instead the two remaining members--Steve "Lips" Kudlow and Robb Reiner--have toiled away ever since, fitting in shows after their days of blue collar work. The glamour of being rock star is gone: Aqua net has been replaced by hairnets, and tour buses have become minivans. But Lips and Robb--trust me, you'll be on a friendly, first-name basis after seeing the film, too--still struggle to achieve what they never could, even though most people have never heard of them.
There are plenty of resemblances--and references--to This is Spinal Tap in Anvil!, but this documentary is proof that you don't need screenwriters to script the jokes. Lips, Robb, and those in their circle are genuine and genuinely funny. For all its heavy metal, Anvil! is lighthearted entertainment at its best. And despite my indie-pop-heavy ipod, I had to stop myself from pumping my fist along with "Metal on Metal." But even with that impulse ignored (at least for my first viewing), it was impossible not to cheer for this deserving film and its talented subjects.
For the uninitiated (like me), Anvil is a band that inspired the biggest names in '80s rock, including Metallica, Guns N' Roses, and Anthrax. But unlike those heavy metal heavyweights, Anvil never reached superstar status. Instead the two remaining members--Steve "Lips" Kudlow and Robb Reiner--have toiled away ever since, fitting in shows after their days of blue collar work. The glamour of being rock star is gone: Aqua net has been replaced by hairnets, and tour buses have become minivans. But Lips and Robb--trust me, you'll be on a friendly, first-name basis after seeing the film, too--still struggle to achieve what they never could, even though most people have never heard of them.
There are plenty of resemblances--and references--to This is Spinal Tap in Anvil!, but this documentary is proof that you don't need screenwriters to script the jokes. Lips, Robb, and those in their circle are genuine and genuinely funny. For all its heavy metal, Anvil! is lighthearted entertainment at its best. And despite my indie-pop-heavy ipod, I had to stop myself from pumping my fist along with "Metal on Metal." But even with that impulse ignored (at least for my first viewing), it was impossible not to cheer for this deserving film and its talented subjects.
Management
As genuineily funny as he is, Steve Zahn cannot save a movie all by himself. I offer the following evidence, in reverse chronological order (God bless IMDb): Strange Wilderness, Sahara, Employee of the Month, Daddy Day Care, National Security, Chelsea Walls, Dr. Dolittle 2, and Saving Silverman. And that is only the new millennium.
Management isn't a truly bad movie (a Daddy Day Care, perhaps), but that's largely thanks to Zahn's goofy charm. He plays a variation on his usual theme; his Mike is amiable, but directionless. He works at his parents' motel in Arizona, and he doesn't seem to have had much human contact that hasn't been familial. When he sees the sophisticated Sue (Jennifer Aniston) check in, he's smitten, and one of film's most awkward attempts at seduction actually works, much to the surprise of both of them. But Sue leaves for her home in Maryland, leaving Mike to do the least logical thing imaginable (unless you're a stalker): he buys a last-minute plane ticket and goes to her office to find her.
That this only comes off as mildly creepy is all thanks to the harmless air that Zahn exudes. Their encounter won't end up on the evening news because all he wants to do is talk and, umm, touch her butt. Distance and an ex-boyfriend (Woody Harrelson) threaten the would-be couple's happiness, but Mike won't let a little thing like thousands of miles or threats from an ex-punk deter him from the woman he loves.
Even the most romantic member of the audience (you know, the one who thought she was seeing a "normal" Jennifer Aniston movie) would have doubts about this coupling. There's almost no basis for Mike's attachment, other than the fact that Sue appears to be the only attractive woman he's ever seen. Plus, Sue's acquiescence seems unlikely at best, and even Mike's proffered wine and champagne could only go so far.
For all the film's problems, there's Zahn, who appears to be in every scene. Though Aniston gets top billing (which I hope is only due to the alphabet), she's really a secondary character to his lead. Other co-stars, including character actress Margo Martindale as Mike's mother and a hilarious James Liao as his friend and partner in crime, make the film watchable and might even give Zahn a break from being the night's sole entertainment.
Management isn't a truly bad movie (a Daddy Day Care, perhaps), but that's largely thanks to Zahn's goofy charm. He plays a variation on his usual theme; his Mike is amiable, but directionless. He works at his parents' motel in Arizona, and he doesn't seem to have had much human contact that hasn't been familial. When he sees the sophisticated Sue (Jennifer Aniston) check in, he's smitten, and one of film's most awkward attempts at seduction actually works, much to the surprise of both of them. But Sue leaves for her home in Maryland, leaving Mike to do the least logical thing imaginable (unless you're a stalker): he buys a last-minute plane ticket and goes to her office to find her.
That this only comes off as mildly creepy is all thanks to the harmless air that Zahn exudes. Their encounter won't end up on the evening news because all he wants to do is talk and, umm, touch her butt. Distance and an ex-boyfriend (Woody Harrelson) threaten the would-be couple's happiness, but Mike won't let a little thing like thousands of miles or threats from an ex-punk deter him from the woman he loves.
Even the most romantic member of the audience (you know, the one who thought she was seeing a "normal" Jennifer Aniston movie) would have doubts about this coupling. There's almost no basis for Mike's attachment, other than the fact that Sue appears to be the only attractive woman he's ever seen. Plus, Sue's acquiescence seems unlikely at best, and even Mike's proffered wine and champagne could only go so far.
For all the film's problems, there's Zahn, who appears to be in every scene. Though Aniston gets top billing (which I hope is only due to the alphabet), she's really a secondary character to his lead. Other co-stars, including character actress Margo Martindale as Mike's mother and a hilarious James Liao as his friend and partner in crime, make the film watchable and might even give Zahn a break from being the night's sole entertainment.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
State of Play
Director Kevin Mcdonald's latest film has far less weight than his last one, the Idi Amin drama The Last King of Scotland, but perhaps that is by default, since State of Play doesn't dwell on genocide or torture. But this thriller, based on a BBC miniseries of the same name, is serious stuff, questioning the validity and the very existence of newspaper journalism in the age of on-the-ball bloggers and the 24-hour news cycle. Not to mention Blackwater-style mercenaries, the collision of personal and professional ethics, and political corruption...
While investigating a double murder, journalist Cal McCaffrey (Russell Crowe) discovers its connections to the death of a young woman who served as the research assistant and mistress to his college roommate, Congressman Stephen Collins (Ben Affleck). Of course, the three murders aren't as straighforward as they appear, and McCaffrey investigates the mazelike connections with the help of young political blogger Della Frye (Rachel McAdams). Not only does the pair have to race against the clock, as is common in political thrillers, but they're on deadline, and upsetting their strict, seething editor (a fantastic Helen Mirren) is almost as deadly as not finding out the identity of the killer.
As always, Crowe is capable in the role of the old-school-rooted journalist whose own colleagues don't even read his work. The character is cliched, but the actor is strong enough to move past the boundaries of the page. Though the excellent Gone Baby Gone made me wish for more Affleck behind the camera, he does a good job as the fallen, former golden boy of his party (which is, smartly, never named). At times, McAdams seems a bit too eager and broadly drawn, but she is charismatic enough to carry the role. Jason Bateman has a far-too-small part that proves he is just as adept with comedy as he is drama.
Tony Gilroy, Matthew Michael Carnahan, and Billy Ray all contributed to the script, and it's easy to see where their previous work (including Michael Clayton, The Kingdom, Breach, and Shattered Glass) has informed this screenplay. Political intrigue and journalism collide with action to produce a contemporary All the President's Men with a bit more gunfire for audiences weaned on high-octane thrillers and up-to-the-minute news updates.
While investigating a double murder, journalist Cal McCaffrey (Russell Crowe) discovers its connections to the death of a young woman who served as the research assistant and mistress to his college roommate, Congressman Stephen Collins (Ben Affleck). Of course, the three murders aren't as straighforward as they appear, and McCaffrey investigates the mazelike connections with the help of young political blogger Della Frye (Rachel McAdams). Not only does the pair have to race against the clock, as is common in political thrillers, but they're on deadline, and upsetting their strict, seething editor (a fantastic Helen Mirren) is almost as deadly as not finding out the identity of the killer.
As always, Crowe is capable in the role of the old-school-rooted journalist whose own colleagues don't even read his work. The character is cliched, but the actor is strong enough to move past the boundaries of the page. Though the excellent Gone Baby Gone made me wish for more Affleck behind the camera, he does a good job as the fallen, former golden boy of his party (which is, smartly, never named). At times, McAdams seems a bit too eager and broadly drawn, but she is charismatic enough to carry the role. Jason Bateman has a far-too-small part that proves he is just as adept with comedy as he is drama.
Tony Gilroy, Matthew Michael Carnahan, and Billy Ray all contributed to the script, and it's easy to see where their previous work (including Michael Clayton, The Kingdom, Breach, and Shattered Glass) has informed this screenplay. Political intrigue and journalism collide with action to produce a contemporary All the President's Men with a bit more gunfire for audiences weaned on high-octane thrillers and up-to-the-minute news updates.
Adventureland
Red band trailer aside, director Greg Mottola's Adventureland bears little in common with his previous effort Superbad. There's less raunch here, and a little more heart. It's like a slightly lesser, reverse version of Almost Famous, minus the rock star antics and including an excellent period soundtrack.
Set in Pittsburgh in 1987, Adventureland centers on James Brennan (Jesse Eisenberg), a recent college grad who finds his degree in comparative lit won't get him many jobs in the city while he bides his time waiting to go to grad school at Columbia. His last, best chance lies at Adventureland, a local amusement park, where his childhood best friend (and current ball buster) Frigo (Matt Bush) spends his days. Hired by Bobby (Bill Hader), James takes a bottom-of-the-barrel job working in games, where the sole bright spots are nerdy Joel (Martin Starr) and pretty Em (Kristen Stewart). Pot and alcohol fuel the summer fun, and James attempts to mend a broken heart and cure his unwanted case of virginity with help from Em.
There's plenty of fun, low-brow humor to be had in Adventureland, but there's more to it than pot cookies, erections, and kicks to the balls. Unrealized dreams lie at the heart of the film, which manages to straddle the gross-out comedy and coming-of-age genres remarkably well. A lot of credit goes to Eisenberg, whose awkwardness works just as well here as it did in The Squid and the Whale. He's likable, earnest, and relatable in his efforts to win over Em. Ryan Reynolds is excellent as the park's handyman, a musician who coasts on the story of how he played with Lou Reed. Hader and fellow SNL star Kristen Wiig also deserve praise for playing the strange couple who run the park. Both are far funnier than their work on the TV show would suggest.
Full of nostalgia, longing, and sincerity, Adventureland might have played better in the theatrical deadzone of August, when its end-of-the-summer feeling would have already been thick in the air-conditioned theaters. Unlike most of its would-be kin, this is a comedy dependent on its nicely crafted characters and mood, not just on the merits of its dirty jokes.
Set in Pittsburgh in 1987, Adventureland centers on James Brennan (Jesse Eisenberg), a recent college grad who finds his degree in comparative lit won't get him many jobs in the city while he bides his time waiting to go to grad school at Columbia. His last, best chance lies at Adventureland, a local amusement park, where his childhood best friend (and current ball buster) Frigo (Matt Bush) spends his days. Hired by Bobby (Bill Hader), James takes a bottom-of-the-barrel job working in games, where the sole bright spots are nerdy Joel (Martin Starr) and pretty Em (Kristen Stewart). Pot and alcohol fuel the summer fun, and James attempts to mend a broken heart and cure his unwanted case of virginity with help from Em.
There's plenty of fun, low-brow humor to be had in Adventureland, but there's more to it than pot cookies, erections, and kicks to the balls. Unrealized dreams lie at the heart of the film, which manages to straddle the gross-out comedy and coming-of-age genres remarkably well. A lot of credit goes to Eisenberg, whose awkwardness works just as well here as it did in The Squid and the Whale. He's likable, earnest, and relatable in his efforts to win over Em. Ryan Reynolds is excellent as the park's handyman, a musician who coasts on the story of how he played with Lou Reed. Hader and fellow SNL star Kristen Wiig also deserve praise for playing the strange couple who run the park. Both are far funnier than their work on the TV show would suggest.
Full of nostalgia, longing, and sincerity, Adventureland might have played better in the theatrical deadzone of August, when its end-of-the-summer feeling would have already been thick in the air-conditioned theaters. Unlike most of its would-be kin, this is a comedy dependent on its nicely crafted characters and mood, not just on the merits of its dirty jokes.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Gigantic
I'm itching to make a joke about how the title of indie comedy Gigantic is actually short for Gigantic Waste of Time or Gigantic Pile of.... I also debated saying that the film is as weak as the chin of its star, Paul Dano, but that seems rather meanspirited. I mean, a man can't help his facial structure, but he could certainly have helped starring in this absolute mess of a film.
Dano's resume includes Oscar-winning favorites like Little Miss Sunshine and There Will Be Blood, but there's none of that talent on display here. As mattress salesman Brian, the actor sleepwalks through the film's agonizing script, showing little life or character. Zooey Deschanel plays...Zooey Deschanel, or some approximation thereof, who goes by the name "Happy" and fits the manic pixie dream girl mold perfectly. John Goodman is the only source of joy here, playing Happy's pushy, overbearing millionaire of a father.
Gigantic begins with Brian being randomly attacked by a homeless man (comedian Zach Galifianakis, playing what appears to be a noncomedic role). The script-driven chaos continues with the introduction of Brian's job and his casually racist boss (THE WIRE's Clark Peters), as well as his childhood-born desire to adopt a Chinese baby. He's on the cusp of realizing his dream when he meets the flitting, flaky Happy, while her father grumbles through their awkward courtship.
Directed by Matt Aselton, Gigantic suffers from a common flaw of films from first-time filmmakers. Elements seem randomly crammed in, as though Aselton thought that this was his one shot to get in every idea he ever had. Homeless guy stalking his prey from New York to Vermont? Check. Scene with numerous men getting "happy endings" at a massage parlor? Check. Skinny-dipping at night? Check. Drinking Crayola-colored cocktails from a beaker in a lab filled with rats? Check. This film has numerous problems, but it's mostly a film with an identity crisis. Aselton tried to make at least three different movies in one--a surreal indie, a romantic comedy, and a coming-of-age drama, by my count--but, despite its name, Gigantic is a case where less would've certainly been more.
Dano's resume includes Oscar-winning favorites like Little Miss Sunshine and There Will Be Blood, but there's none of that talent on display here. As mattress salesman Brian, the actor sleepwalks through the film's agonizing script, showing little life or character. Zooey Deschanel plays...Zooey Deschanel, or some approximation thereof, who goes by the name "Happy" and fits the manic pixie dream girl mold perfectly. John Goodman is the only source of joy here, playing Happy's pushy, overbearing millionaire of a father.
Gigantic begins with Brian being randomly attacked by a homeless man (comedian Zach Galifianakis, playing what appears to be a noncomedic role). The script-driven chaos continues with the introduction of Brian's job and his casually racist boss (THE WIRE's Clark Peters), as well as his childhood-born desire to adopt a Chinese baby. He's on the cusp of realizing his dream when he meets the flitting, flaky Happy, while her father grumbles through their awkward courtship.
Directed by Matt Aselton, Gigantic suffers from a common flaw of films from first-time filmmakers. Elements seem randomly crammed in, as though Aselton thought that this was his one shot to get in every idea he ever had. Homeless guy stalking his prey from New York to Vermont? Check. Scene with numerous men getting "happy endings" at a massage parlor? Check. Skinny-dipping at night? Check. Drinking Crayola-colored cocktails from a beaker in a lab filled with rats? Check. This film has numerous problems, but it's mostly a film with an identity crisis. Aselton tried to make at least three different movies in one--a surreal indie, a romantic comedy, and a coming-of-age drama, by my count--but, despite its name, Gigantic is a case where less would've certainly been more.
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