* * * *
D: Lee Daniels; Gabourey "Gabby" Sidibe, Mo'Nique, Paula Patton, Lenny Kravitz, Mariah Carey
R, C-110m, USA
Tagline: Life is hard. Life is short. Life is painful. Life is rich. Life is... Precious.
I saw this at the Vancouver Film Festival in October. Wow. Precious Jones is obese, illiterate, abused... a survivor. Some harrowing scenes, especially with her monstrous mother brilliantly played by Mo'nique, but it isn't all misery. Precious knows that the only way to escape her situation is to finish school, thanks to a caring teacher. Co-stars Lenny Kravitz and an unrecognizable Mariah Carey. We had the privilege of seeing director Lee Daniels in person for a very interesting Q & A. There wasn't a dry eye in the house, but not because it was depressing, but because it was HOPEFUL. People of all races shared the experience of rooting for a disenfranchised young woman and wanting her to succeed. And even more amazing... nobody talked or misbehaved at all in the theatre. It was a respectful silence for two hours, then wild applause and a standing ovation. We were all together in this. This is a contender for Best Picture for sure.
December 13, 2009
December 08, 2009
ALWAYS (1989)
* * 1/2
PG, C-122m, USA
D: Steven Spielberg; Richard Dreyfuss, Holly Hunter, John Goodman, Brad Johnson, Audrey Hepburn, Marg Helgenberger
Tagline: They couldn't hear him. They couldn't see him. But he was there when they needed him... Even after he was gone.
Steven Spielberg's modern remake of 1942's A Guy Named Joe doesn't really work as a romance in my opinion, but has very appealing performances. Pete (Richard Dreyfuss), a firefighting pilot who dies in a freak accident, saves the life of his best friend Al (John Goodman). His ghost has trouble letting his fiancee (Holly Hunter) move on with her life.
It's not a great movie, but definitely fits the criteria for "good corn". It's sweet, and you can't help liking these characters. Nobody is a true villain, not even Pete. He is understandably upset at being prematurely ripped away from his beloved Dorinda, let alone watching another man (especially one as handsome as bland Ted Baker (Brad Johnson) shyly approach her, even bypassing the opportunity to date the lovely Rachel (a woefully underused Marg Helgenberger).
But why can't Pete just go to the afterlife and forget about her? It seems cruel of the angel Hap (Audrey Hepburn in her final role) to force him to guide his replacement, not only in flying, but romancing his own fiancee. But he has to learn to let Dorinda go and to show his love by letting her move on.
In this humble critic's opinion, Little Miss Firecracker herself is just too much woman for a blank slate like Ted. Her reaction to this handsome stranger's attention is funny but true: "I just can't be with someone who looks like I won him in a raffle." When Ted stops being so stiff and does John Wayne impressions, she softens toward him. He's the perfect boyfriend - handsome, polite, attentive, and sincere. But it's when he starts reminding her of Pete in little ways (John Wayne impressions, donkey laugh, and a talent for aviation) and performs an act of heroism that she becomes intrigued.
All the leads are engaging, and I'm a sucker for movies about ghosts in love (The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, Ghost, Blythe Spirit). I usually can't stand Richard Dreyfuss's characters - as Dorinda observes, he laughs like a donkey. But he's very good here, though I liked him best in American Graffiti, Jaws, and Mr. Holland's Opus.
The dialogue is very 40s-speak; they really should have set this in the 1940s, like the original. I mean really: A 'contemporary' 80s gal named "Dorinda Durston"? Very corny but there are moments of sweetness, like tomboyish Dorinda's reaction to Pete's birthday present: a beautiful white evening gown, exclaiming, "Girl clothes!" and "It's not the dress... it's the way you see me.")
Also endearing is the way "alive" Pete adoringly shoos Dorinda out onto the dance floor to dance with their pilot buddies, cheerfully handing out towels for their grimy mitts (Dorinda: "Nobody dances with this dress until they wash their hands."). "Oh, boooysss... That's a-right! You a-wanna dance with my girl... you a-gotta wipe your hands... whoa! That's not a towel!"
The harrowing forest fires and flying stunts are something to see. If you don't care for the drippy romance, see it for the action scenes. I really respect firefighters, and this just solidifies it. They are true heroes.
Though it could have been edited to a shorter length as well as a host of other things I could think of, it's still worth catching on a rainy afternoon.
Holly Hunter and John Goodman work well in supporting roles, and even have chemistry with each other. To be honest, I would have been much more interested in Pete having to watch his best friend Al fall for Dorinda, and the complications that would have ensued. Goodman is a wonderful actor, and never gets to be the leading man in a serious romance. He's a big guy, but always plays even his comic roles with dignity - unlike most character actors of his girth, he isn't just the leading man's comic foil, but beneath the jovial exterior peeks something a little more thoughtful, even dark. Here he's very charismatic and fun, and has way more personality than the Ted Baker character. He doesn't get to do much, but steals every scene he's in. I could totally see the friendship between him and Dorinda grow into something else, and the guilt feelings that would plague both. Pete would be even more miserable, knowing that they never hooked up while he was alive, but still resenting them for going on as if he no longer mattered. But that's another movie.
This is an interesting take on the afterlife. It's not The Lovely Bones, but I enjoyed following the characters on their journeys - Dorinda's to accepting a different kind of happiness from the one she expected and Pete's to unearthing a nobility he never knew he had.
PG, C-122m, USA
D: Steven Spielberg; Richard Dreyfuss, Holly Hunter, John Goodman, Brad Johnson, Audrey Hepburn, Marg Helgenberger
Tagline: They couldn't hear him. They couldn't see him. But he was there when they needed him... Even after he was gone.
Steven Spielberg's modern remake of 1942's A Guy Named Joe doesn't really work as a romance in my opinion, but has very appealing performances. Pete (Richard Dreyfuss), a firefighting pilot who dies in a freak accident, saves the life of his best friend Al (John Goodman). His ghost has trouble letting his fiancee (Holly Hunter) move on with her life.
It's not a great movie, but definitely fits the criteria for "good corn". It's sweet, and you can't help liking these characters. Nobody is a true villain, not even Pete. He is understandably upset at being prematurely ripped away from his beloved Dorinda, let alone watching another man (especially one as handsome as bland Ted Baker (Brad Johnson) shyly approach her, even bypassing the opportunity to date the lovely Rachel (a woefully underused Marg Helgenberger).
But why can't Pete just go to the afterlife and forget about her? It seems cruel of the angel Hap (Audrey Hepburn in her final role) to force him to guide his replacement, not only in flying, but romancing his own fiancee. But he has to learn to let Dorinda go and to show his love by letting her move on.
In this humble critic's opinion, Little Miss Firecracker herself is just too much woman for a blank slate like Ted. Her reaction to this handsome stranger's attention is funny but true: "I just can't be with someone who looks like I won him in a raffle." When Ted stops being so stiff and does John Wayne impressions, she softens toward him. He's the perfect boyfriend - handsome, polite, attentive, and sincere. But it's when he starts reminding her of Pete in little ways (John Wayne impressions, donkey laugh, and a talent for aviation) and performs an act of heroism that she becomes intrigued.
All the leads are engaging, and I'm a sucker for movies about ghosts in love (The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, Ghost, Blythe Spirit). I usually can't stand Richard Dreyfuss's characters - as Dorinda observes, he laughs like a donkey. But he's very good here, though I liked him best in American Graffiti, Jaws, and Mr. Holland's Opus.
The dialogue is very 40s-speak; they really should have set this in the 1940s, like the original. I mean really: A 'contemporary' 80s gal named "Dorinda Durston"? Very corny but there are moments of sweetness, like tomboyish Dorinda's reaction to Pete's birthday present: a beautiful white evening gown, exclaiming, "Girl clothes!" and "It's not the dress... it's the way you see me.")
Also endearing is the way "alive" Pete adoringly shoos Dorinda out onto the dance floor to dance with their pilot buddies, cheerfully handing out towels for their grimy mitts (Dorinda: "Nobody dances with this dress until they wash their hands."). "Oh, boooysss... That's a-right! You a-wanna dance with my girl... you a-gotta wipe your hands... whoa! That's not a towel!"
The harrowing forest fires and flying stunts are something to see. If you don't care for the drippy romance, see it for the action scenes. I really respect firefighters, and this just solidifies it. They are true heroes.
Though it could have been edited to a shorter length as well as a host of other things I could think of, it's still worth catching on a rainy afternoon.
Holly Hunter and John Goodman work well in supporting roles, and even have chemistry with each other. To be honest, I would have been much more interested in Pete having to watch his best friend Al fall for Dorinda, and the complications that would have ensued. Goodman is a wonderful actor, and never gets to be the leading man in a serious romance. He's a big guy, but always plays even his comic roles with dignity - unlike most character actors of his girth, he isn't just the leading man's comic foil, but beneath the jovial exterior peeks something a little more thoughtful, even dark. Here he's very charismatic and fun, and has way more personality than the Ted Baker character. He doesn't get to do much, but steals every scene he's in. I could totally see the friendship between him and Dorinda grow into something else, and the guilt feelings that would plague both. Pete would be even more miserable, knowing that they never hooked up while he was alive, but still resenting them for going on as if he no longer mattered. But that's another movie.
This is an interesting take on the afterlife. It's not The Lovely Bones, but I enjoyed following the characters on their journeys - Dorinda's to accepting a different kind of happiness from the one she expected and Pete's to unearthing a nobility he never knew he had.
MY LEFT FOOT: The Story of Christy Brown (1989)
* * * 1/2
PG-13, C-103m, Ireland/UK
D: Jim Sheridan (Daniel Day-Lewis, Brenda Fricker)
Tagline: A film about life, laughter, and the occasional miracle.Daniel Day-Lewis won his first Oscar for this role, and Brenda Fricker won for Best Supporting Actress as his fiercely supportive mum. I was quite surprised to learn that she had borne twenty-two children (take that, Duggars!), though sadly, lost nine in infancy. This is a beautiful and inspiring story of Irish artist/poet/writer Christy Brown, who had cerebral palsy.
I first saw this wonderful film in the theatre with my friend Melinda in 1989, and again tonight on DVD. Still great, and I appreciate it even more, seeing the struggles of a brilliant human being who insisted on living life on his terms.
Besides, anyone who can block a soccer ball with his face is a badass in my book.November 07, 2009
HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER (1986)
* * * *
R, C-83m, USA
D: John McNaughton; Michael Rooker, Tom Towles, Tracy Arnold
Tagline: He's not Freddy. He's not Jason. He's real.
Michael Rooker plays the title character, a soulless murderer who preys upon victims at random. Unlike most movie killers, he does not choose particular types, like blondes, hookers, homeless people, executives, families, etc. All are fair game.
At least he doesn't play favourites.
After a couple of days of recreational mayhem, Henry takes up with Otis (Tom Towles), a dull-witted ex-con from his prison days. Otis is also a bad man, though several points lower in intelligence. He's mean, but weak without a leader. But when someone like Henry leads the way, he discovers a taste for torture and killing the innocent. He's a weak man who eagerly seeks out victims weaker than he so he can enjoy the temporary feeling of power. Together, they feed off each other's need for destruction. Becky (Tracy Arnold), Otis's sad sack sister, who is visiting after having run away from an abusive husband, can only hope she'll remain under their radar. Just watching them play house, with her doing the cooking and cleaning as if they're a normal family is disturbing. She is an example of what limited means, lifelong abuse and broken dreams can do to a person.
The gore is mostly off-screen and implied, but there's no doubt what is happening. Even the musical score is beyond creepy and hard to listen to - the jarring ping of piano keys just sets my teeth on edge. it's like a cold finger to the neck - with the nail filed to a point. And unlike most movies about serial killers, there is no mystery to solve, no clues to follow, and no one to unmask. There is one truly horrific scene of a home invasion that I cannot get out of my head, even years later. Fair warning - this is not a 'fun' scary movie where you can crack jokes at the idiocy of teenagers who wander around haunted houses and venture into the basement with a candle or a flashlight. Henry and Otis are not simply complex, flawed individuals. These are empty sacks of skin wandering the earth as human beings.
Michael Rooker, who usually plays sheriffs and good old boy types in supporting parts, is very good in this role and scarier than Hannibal Lector or Patrick Bateman (American Psycho), simply because he's so real and completely lacking in empathy or even introspection. He's not witty or colourful like a movie villain - he's simply there, snuffing out innocent people like bugs, without a thought before or afterward. You could pass him in the street and not notice him. This is a brilliant character study of a man with nothing to lose. He doesn't kill out of anger or revenge. The evil that he and Otis do is banal, more out of boredom than anything else, making it all the more horrifying.
R, C-83m, USA
D: John McNaughton; Michael Rooker, Tom Towles, Tracy Arnold
Tagline: He's not Freddy. He's not Jason. He's real.
Michael Rooker plays the title character, a soulless murderer who preys upon victims at random. Unlike most movie killers, he does not choose particular types, like blondes, hookers, homeless people, executives, families, etc. All are fair game.
At least he doesn't play favourites.
After a couple of days of recreational mayhem, Henry takes up with Otis (Tom Towles), a dull-witted ex-con from his prison days. Otis is also a bad man, though several points lower in intelligence. He's mean, but weak without a leader. But when someone like Henry leads the way, he discovers a taste for torture and killing the innocent. He's a weak man who eagerly seeks out victims weaker than he so he can enjoy the temporary feeling of power. Together, they feed off each other's need for destruction. Becky (Tracy Arnold), Otis's sad sack sister, who is visiting after having run away from an abusive husband, can only hope she'll remain under their radar. Just watching them play house, with her doing the cooking and cleaning as if they're a normal family is disturbing. She is an example of what limited means, lifelong abuse and broken dreams can do to a person.
The gore is mostly off-screen and implied, but there's no doubt what is happening. Even the musical score is beyond creepy and hard to listen to - the jarring ping of piano keys just sets my teeth on edge. it's like a cold finger to the neck - with the nail filed to a point. And unlike most movies about serial killers, there is no mystery to solve, no clues to follow, and no one to unmask. There is one truly horrific scene of a home invasion that I cannot get out of my head, even years later. Fair warning - this is not a 'fun' scary movie where you can crack jokes at the idiocy of teenagers who wander around haunted houses and venture into the basement with a candle or a flashlight. Henry and Otis are not simply complex, flawed individuals. These are empty sacks of skin wandering the earth as human beings.
Michael Rooker, who usually plays sheriffs and good old boy types in supporting parts, is very good in this role and scarier than Hannibal Lector or Patrick Bateman (American Psycho), simply because he's so real and completely lacking in empathy or even introspection. He's not witty or colourful like a movie villain - he's simply there, snuffing out innocent people like bugs, without a thought before or afterward. You could pass him in the street and not notice him. This is a brilliant character study of a man with nothing to lose. He doesn't kill out of anger or revenge. The evil that he and Otis do is banal, more out of boredom than anything else, making it all the more horrifying.
November 01, 2009
THE STEPFATHER (2009)
* 1/2
PG-13, C-101m, USA
D: Nelson McCormick. Dylan Walsh, Sela Ward, David Badgley, Amber Heard.
Tagline: Daddy's home
I saw this remake of the much superior 1986 version under duress. My friend's cat had died the week before, so, in an effort to cheer her up, I let her choose the movie. Silly me. I knew it would be bad, but would it be boring or campy? Happily, it was the latter. It was mediocre and predictable and so by-the-numbers, but I was not bored, because mentally heckling the screen is fun. I actually learned a lot.
*SPOILER ALERT*
1. If you're a single mother shopping with your kids at the market, let your kids run wild. If your little squirt runs into a so charming-he's-dangerous man who is clearly Stepfather Material in the aisle, apologize and allow the guy to give fatherly advice to your son, like "Women rule the world." Don't think too hard about this -- any guy you just met who puts down his own gender is a keeper. Follow this with helping him find the peanut butter.
2. Be open and friendly. Let him know that you're a great cook. Let your desperation show, but be flirtatious at the same time. It doesn't hurt to look like Sela Ward. Give a little slack and then reel him in.
3. Do not investigate his past -- that is just rude. It's private! You should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking this. Just because you're letting this new man into your house with all your stuff and your loved ones doesn't mean you should get to know him. That's what married life is for. Even if your well-meaning friends and relatives caution you that you've only known him for six months, invite him to move in anyway. Tell them he's made your life worth living again.
4. If your new love physically disciplines one of your kids, sternly let him know that this is not acceptable. Then have the two of them apologize to each other so you can be a happy family again. Never mind that your child is being forced to live with a bully. He needs to learn to go along to get along. Remember, your kid shares some of the blame. If he hadn't misbehaved, his new stepfather wouldn't have had to get rough.
5. When your strapping 17-year-old son returns from military school, confide in your handsome fiancee that he used to hang out with a bad crowd and get into trouble. Give him ammunition so he can help get the lad on the right track. Also, give him a list of your child's greatest fears.
6. When you sneak into your prospective stepdad's room to search for incriminating evidence, make sure you and your pretty girlfriend do it right after swimming, without drying off first. If you leave wet footprints in the hallway, don't worry about it.
7. If you're watching America's Most Wanted and spot a picture of a man who bears a strong resemblance to the handsome, mysterious stranger across the street, be sure to tell everyone, especially his girlfriend.
8. If you're waiting in the hall and talking to your wife's fiancee, and he disappears around the corner -- keep talking. Just...talk! Tell this stranger that you've checked the yearbook and that you know he's not who he says he is. Tell him you plan to do a background check. Be sure you give all this away when you can't see him. Why, he could come out anywhere to...tell you he's glad that you have him on run! Just because you have an advantage doesn't mean you shouldn't be equals. Again, that would be rude.
9. Never talk to those you trust directly. Texting, emails, and leaving important messages with that good ol reliable stepfather you have suspicions about is good enough. He'll make sure they get those messages.
10. In a raging lightning storm, make plans to catch a plane. Before you leave the house, if you hear a strange noise outside, investigate alone. If you see a patio umbrella floating in the pool, make sure you use a pool-cleaning net with a metal handle and then lean over the edge to reach the umbrella. Most importantly, be safe. Concentrate on what you're doing. Ignore all distractions like that guy standing behind you...
11. To reduce the thrill factor, send your younger kids to sleep at a friend's house. Then they won't get in the way.
12. If a knife-wielding maniac chases you around the house, run up the stairs to the attic with rotting floorboards. This is smart for some reason. After, what's good enough for Ali Larter's nutty stalker temp in Obsessed is good enough for you.
Not only is this not a bad film, but it's an educational one. Just so any wanna-be "Stepfathers" can stay out of prison -- as well as out of the tabloids and any more "Stepfather" inspired movies, I will show you how avoid making these mistakes. I have no scruples helping out felons, so long as it means one less bad movie. I like my bad guys smart. And my heroes less conveniently dumb.
How to disappear from the world and start over as a fresh human being:
1. Look good for your new life. Shower well, shave the facial hair, and pop out those coloured lenses. Make sure to pop in a different colour. Sooner or later, it could get all "Minority Report" out there!
2. Never allow yourself to be photographed, especially for work or ID purposes.
3. Never leave a paper trail. Cash only.
4. If you want a brand new family, a good way to meet them is the Cute Meet. Head to the local supermarket. There will always be an lonely/attractive widow or divorcee trying to control her kids in the aisles. Make sure you step in just in time to catch one of the little buggers before he knocks something over. It will score you points with Mommy.
5. It's also adorable to say, "I'm new in town and haven't learned where to find things in this store. Um... where's the peanut butter?" We gals just love projects like a guy who doesn't know how to take care of himself, especially if he looks like Dylan Walsh.
6. Be helpful. Offer 'fatherly' advice to the kid and reluctantly admit to the mother that you lost your wife and daughter in a car accident. It's much more socially acceptable than admitting that you left your family in prone, bloodied positions in the living room on Christmas morning. If the truth is ugly, tell a pretty lie.
7. Wait about six months, then move in. Attractive widows and divorcees with kids tend to live in the suburbs, complete with a swimming pool. Try to be a father figure to the little boy or else mop the floor with him.
8. Make sure you let it slip that you used to be competitive swimming, just like the oldest son in the family. Do this even if you two never do any swimming in a confrontation-to-the-death scene -- a movie called "The Stepfather" (2009) has a confrontation-to-the-death scene in the attic, not the swimming pool.
9. However, do not try to bond with the oldest son by giving him his own locker in your 'hideaway' from the family. He will eventually wonder what's in the other lockers, not to mention the padlocked freezer.
10. Keep track of your lies. If you refer to your dead little girl as "Little Michelle was everything to me," don't follow up a moment later in the same conversation with a comment about how much "little Lisa" meant to you.
11. After you kill someone, impersonate them on their cellphone to text-message their loved ones. Use it inside the house and keep that volume loud enough to hear in the next room.
12. Delete your internet history so people won't find americasmostwanted.com in the browser.
13. If the whole family is left defenseless and unconscious, don't finish them off. Let them wake up in a hospital on the way to a full recovery. Never ever see them again. Just start a new family that you can threaten to kill and just let live. Remember, you're a lame killer stepfather. And when you see this family, smile chillingly for the camera -- like Damien.
14. If you are serious about creating the perfect family, only to be so disappointed that you kill them in white-hot rage, then you should watch The Stepfather (2009) a million times until you've learned your lesson. If that doesn't work, then see the original 1986 version with Terry O'Quinn. If anything, you'll give your brain a much-needed cleansing.
PG-13, C-101m, USA
D: Nelson McCormick. Dylan Walsh, Sela Ward, David Badgley, Amber Heard.
Tagline: Daddy's home
I saw this remake of the much superior 1986 version under duress. My friend's cat had died the week before, so, in an effort to cheer her up, I let her choose the movie. Silly me. I knew it would be bad, but would it be boring or campy? Happily, it was the latter. It was mediocre and predictable and so by-the-numbers, but I was not bored, because mentally heckling the screen is fun. I actually learned a lot.
*SPOILER ALERT*
1. If you're a single mother shopping with your kids at the market, let your kids run wild. If your little squirt runs into a so charming-he's-dangerous man who is clearly Stepfather Material in the aisle, apologize and allow the guy to give fatherly advice to your son, like "Women rule the world." Don't think too hard about this -- any guy you just met who puts down his own gender is a keeper. Follow this with helping him find the peanut butter.
2. Be open and friendly. Let him know that you're a great cook. Let your desperation show, but be flirtatious at the same time. It doesn't hurt to look like Sela Ward. Give a little slack and then reel him in.
3. Do not investigate his past -- that is just rude. It's private! You should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking this. Just because you're letting this new man into your house with all your stuff and your loved ones doesn't mean you should get to know him. That's what married life is for. Even if your well-meaning friends and relatives caution you that you've only known him for six months, invite him to move in anyway. Tell them he's made your life worth living again.
4. If your new love physically disciplines one of your kids, sternly let him know that this is not acceptable. Then have the two of them apologize to each other so you can be a happy family again. Never mind that your child is being forced to live with a bully. He needs to learn to go along to get along. Remember, your kid shares some of the blame. If he hadn't misbehaved, his new stepfather wouldn't have had to get rough.
5. When your strapping 17-year-old son returns from military school, confide in your handsome fiancee that he used to hang out with a bad crowd and get into trouble. Give him ammunition so he can help get the lad on the right track. Also, give him a list of your child's greatest fears.
6. When you sneak into your prospective stepdad's room to search for incriminating evidence, make sure you and your pretty girlfriend do it right after swimming, without drying off first. If you leave wet footprints in the hallway, don't worry about it.
7. If you're watching America's Most Wanted and spot a picture of a man who bears a strong resemblance to the handsome, mysterious stranger across the street, be sure to tell everyone, especially his girlfriend.
8. If you're waiting in the hall and talking to your wife's fiancee, and he disappears around the corner -- keep talking. Just...talk! Tell this stranger that you've checked the yearbook and that you know he's not who he says he is. Tell him you plan to do a background check. Be sure you give all this away when you can't see him. Why, he could come out anywhere to...tell you he's glad that you have him on run! Just because you have an advantage doesn't mean you shouldn't be equals. Again, that would be rude.
9. Never talk to those you trust directly. Texting, emails, and leaving important messages with that good ol reliable stepfather you have suspicions about is good enough. He'll make sure they get those messages.
10. In a raging lightning storm, make plans to catch a plane. Before you leave the house, if you hear a strange noise outside, investigate alone. If you see a patio umbrella floating in the pool, make sure you use a pool-cleaning net with a metal handle and then lean over the edge to reach the umbrella. Most importantly, be safe. Concentrate on what you're doing. Ignore all distractions like that guy standing behind you...
11. To reduce the thrill factor, send your younger kids to sleep at a friend's house. Then they won't get in the way.
12. If a knife-wielding maniac chases you around the house, run up the stairs to the attic with rotting floorboards. This is smart for some reason. After, what's good enough for Ali Larter's nutty stalker temp in Obsessed is good enough for you.
Not only is this not a bad film, but it's an educational one. Just so any wanna-be "Stepfathers" can stay out of prison -- as well as out of the tabloids and any more "Stepfather" inspired movies, I will show you how avoid making these mistakes. I have no scruples helping out felons, so long as it means one less bad movie. I like my bad guys smart. And my heroes less conveniently dumb.
How to disappear from the world and start over as a fresh human being:
1. Look good for your new life. Shower well, shave the facial hair, and pop out those coloured lenses. Make sure to pop in a different colour. Sooner or later, it could get all "Minority Report" out there!
2. Never allow yourself to be photographed, especially for work or ID purposes.
3. Never leave a paper trail. Cash only.
4. If you want a brand new family, a good way to meet them is the Cute Meet. Head to the local supermarket. There will always be an lonely/attractive widow or divorcee trying to control her kids in the aisles. Make sure you step in just in time to catch one of the little buggers before he knocks something over. It will score you points with Mommy.
5. It's also adorable to say, "I'm new in town and haven't learned where to find things in this store. Um... where's the peanut butter?" We gals just love projects like a guy who doesn't know how to take care of himself, especially if he looks like Dylan Walsh.
6. Be helpful. Offer 'fatherly' advice to the kid and reluctantly admit to the mother that you lost your wife and daughter in a car accident. It's much more socially acceptable than admitting that you left your family in prone, bloodied positions in the living room on Christmas morning. If the truth is ugly, tell a pretty lie.
7. Wait about six months, then move in. Attractive widows and divorcees with kids tend to live in the suburbs, complete with a swimming pool. Try to be a father figure to the little boy or else mop the floor with him.
8. Make sure you let it slip that you used to be competitive swimming, just like the oldest son in the family. Do this even if you two never do any swimming in a confrontation-to-the-death scene -- a movie called "The Stepfather" (2009) has a confrontation-to-the-death scene in the attic, not the swimming pool.
9. However, do not try to bond with the oldest son by giving him his own locker in your 'hideaway' from the family. He will eventually wonder what's in the other lockers, not to mention the padlocked freezer.
10. Keep track of your lies. If you refer to your dead little girl as "Little Michelle was everything to me," don't follow up a moment later in the same conversation with a comment about how much "little Lisa" meant to you.
11. After you kill someone, impersonate them on their cellphone to text-message their loved ones. Use it inside the house and keep that volume loud enough to hear in the next room.
12. Delete your internet history so people won't find americasmostwanted.com in the browser.
13. If the whole family is left defenseless and unconscious, don't finish them off. Let them wake up in a hospital on the way to a full recovery. Never ever see them again. Just start a new family that you can threaten to kill and just let live. Remember, you're a lame killer stepfather. And when you see this family, smile chillingly for the camera -- like Damien.
14. If you are serious about creating the perfect family, only to be so disappointed that you kill them in white-hot rage, then you should watch The Stepfather (2009) a million times until you've learned your lesson. If that doesn't work, then see the original 1986 version with Terry O'Quinn. If anything, you'll give your brain a much-needed cleansing.
July 27, 2009
GIDGET (1959)
* * *
General, C-95m, USA.
D: Paul Wendkos. Sandra Dee, James Darren, Cliff Robertson, Arthur O’Connell, Yvonne Craig, The Four Preps.
Tagline: Watch out Brigitte...here comes Gidget!
This is basically a corny coming-of-age story, with a look at the social mores of the Eisenhower era. It’s fun, silly, innocent, and the best of the “Gidget” movies, bar none. I couldn’t bear to sit through those, even for a few minutes. Yet I love this movie for its kitchiness - it's like looking at old photographs and smiling at the silly hairdos, and thinking, "Wow, we looked so dorky. Wonder what the old gang is doing now?"
It’s the summer of ’59 and Francie Lawrence (an annoyingly perky Sandra Dee) is sixteen, petite, as one character puts, "practically pushing seventeen!" She’s an only child, doted on by her well-to-do parents Russell and Dorothy (Arthur Kennedy and Mary La Roche). Her friends (including one ambiguous female nicknamed "B.L." (for Betty Louise) and Yvonne "Batgirl" Craig) are all boy-crazy and she reluctantly lets herself get dragged on a ‘man hunt’.
“She just has to make it this summer!” one girl squeals.
"Oh, poor Francie. Back to senior year with nothing to show for it!” The girlfriends pose and preen on the sand, waiting for the guys to notice them. Francie keeps 'ruining the picture', whatever that means. She has no figure to speak of, which is a running joke.
The male surfers don’t want a girl around. “This beach is for surfers only, not dames.”
"Oh, I’m not a dame…” she protests.
Rather alarmingly, they cluster around her. “Well, it has all the earmarks of a dame.”
One leers at her flat chest, “Those aren’t ears.” Ugh.
The manhunt is declared a 'dry run'. “Say, let’s go to Santa Barbara, but without the papoose in tow.”
She realizes that her presence is unwanted and opts to go swimming on her own instead of continuing the manhunt.
“Francie, you’ve always been part of a foursome!” Patti, one of her friends reproaches in a half-hearted attempt to include her. “You’ll be an outcast, out in the cold!”
"It's already happened, Patti. I just don't fit in anymore."
I really detested her so-called 'friends'. They’re catty, shallow, and just plain horrible. I know they’re only characters, but I get the feeling that there is some basis in reality for this portrayal, given the time they’re living in. We've all met the kind of women they grow up to become.
Despite her declaration that she's a 'real good swimmer', Francie nearly drowns twice and has to be rescued by Moondoggie, one of the surfers. As he guides them back to the beach on his surfboard, they encounter a big wave and the thrill makes her forget that she almost drowned. As most of us know, he will be her first love and have to suffer through four bad sequels and a TV series and Gidget will be a different girl every time. The poor guy starts with Sandra Dee and somehow finds himself with Deborah Whalley and Sally Field before she became a flying nun. After the rescue, she meets the guys who jeered at her earlier: Hot Shot, Stinky, Loverboy, Waikiki, Lord Byron. The leader, dubbed the Big Kahuna (Hawaiian for 'chief'), is a good-looking older guy in his thirties. They're wholesome beach bum types, though hoodlums by Eisenhower standards, meaning those of Francie's stuffy father.
Her love interest, Moondoggie (James Darren) is a wannabe, a trust fund brat who ditches college because, in his words, he can’t measure up to the old man. His man-crush on Kahuna is pretty laughable, though I suppose the latter is supposed to be a father figure – one who doesn’t make demands.
Bitten by the surfing bug, Francie begs for early birthday money to buy a used board and then devotes herself to learning the sport. The guys nickname her ‘Gidget’ (meaning ‘girl midget) and she becomes their mascot. The ‘initiation’ is pretty rough: Moondoggie, though somewhat nicer to her than the others, nearly drowns the poor kid, shoving her head underwater to cut kelp. It’s a very sadistic scene. She barely has time to gulp some air before he forces her head down again. I felt sick watching it. Through a few surfy misadventures, Moondoggie develops protective feelings toward her, much against his will. When he begins to acknowledge his feelings, it's patronizing. "A girl like you is a lot of responsibility." I felt like saying, "Gee whiz. Like a puppy?"
Eventually, Gidget practices on her own and learns the Ways of the Surfer. "Surfing is out of this world. You can't imagine the thrill of the shooting the curl. It positively surpasses every living emotion I've ever had!" It's this enthusiasm that makes this kid sparkle. The only character to treat her with some respect is Kahuna (Cliff Robertson), meaning he doesn’t make fun of her like the others. The other guys worship him, especially Moondoggie, who constantly says things like, “We’re two of a kind, the Kahuna and me!” Yep, total man-crush.
Later we discover that Kahuna isn’t what he seems, and in bid to make Moondoggie jealous, Gidget gets in way over her head when Kahuna almost forgets that “it’s just a game.” In some ways, he’s the most interesting character in the movie. He’s not a bad man, but a weary one. He enjoys his position as alpha dog to a point, but knows that at the end of the summer, he’ll have to move on to the next beach or grow up. Part of the burden is the gang’s adulation – how does a guy live up to his own reputation when it’s not who he is? Or wants to be? Gidget gets him thinking, which echoes the words of her grandmother’s sampler: A real woman brings out the best in a man. Old-fashioned, but in some ways true. It could apply to anyone. Why not replace ‘woman’ with ‘parent’ and ‘man’ with ‘child’? I’m sure there are other variations of someone bringing out the best in another person. Still, too bad Kahuna was too old for her. I’d take him over everyone else in this movie.
Her mother is a good listener, though her advice is definitely geared to steer Gidget on the road to happy housewife. Mary La Roche gives a sly performance, giving the 50’s Mom role more spin than another actress would. She’s understanding and supportive, without being a blankly smiling Stepford wife. Arthur Kennedy (also in 1955’s Picnic) is a doting, but clueless father who needs his wife to calm him down during Gidget’s antics. He just wants his daughter to date the ‘right kind of boy’ – hence his constant hints of fixing her up with the dull son of a colleague. When Gidget eagerly tells her about the ‘crew’ and Moondoggie, Mom fishes gently, “And is he the one you like best?”
Poor Gidget just isn’t ready to date, despite a dubious ‘happy ending’. Her ‘coming-of-age’ is forced upon her through shunning (by her girlfriends) and gentle pressure from her well-meaning parents, leading to her desperation to be accepted before senior year. Kids develop at different rates, and I don't believe anyone should be pushed into adult situations, no matter how old they are physically. If they're emotionally fragile, the results could be disastrous.
But this sunny film has its dark side, which is unusual for films of this genre and time. At first glance, it's a silly beach party film like the ones Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon used to frolic in, but the subtext beneath the insipid dialogue shows what Hollywood wanted society to be. Feminism was barely existent in films, but some tried. And probably got rewritten in order to force a 'happy ending', in case some impressionable young girl got "ideas" and strayed from the path of wife and motherhood. And make sure that those crazy kids didn't find living on the beach too attractive. Otherwise, they might quit school, tear up their rich daddy's cheque of $150.00, and call themselves "Moondoggie". Oh, those hooligans...
Everyone treats her like crap; even her own parents insult her. Russell, her father, watching Francie approach the house in her soggy bathing gear, asks doubtfully, “That’s a ‘manhunter’?”
Dorothy, her mother retorts, “What did you expect? Kim Novak?”
Francie: Gee, thanks, Mom and Dad. Love you, too. By the way, why don't you take a look at these brochures? These places have the cutest names, don't you think? Sunnyrest, Shady Oaks, Sunset Manor...
Gidget and 1986's Dirty Dancing are so similar that I wonder if the former inspired the other. Both feature gawky young girls coming of age, learning to surf and dance, respectively. Their names are similar (Francie "Gidget" Lawrence and Frances "Baby" Houseman). They're both denied access to groups (because of Gidget's immaturity and Baby's social position). Only Gidget doesn't have Patrick Swayzie to back her up when she gets put in the corner. The novel by Frederick Kohner is a better, more thoughtful story. Based on the real-life adventures of his teenaged daughter and embellished for dramatic purposes, the novel was described as a "Catcher in the Rye for girls". I read it, and was surprised to find that it wasn’t far off the mark. The novel - originally entitled, Gidget, the Little Girl with Big Ideas - is more realistic, and I found her teenage slang both quaint and charming. I love the beatnik lingo: "Creamy!" (for wonderful) and lines like, "Pretend you're real gone over me. Gimme the mad rush." Man, I wish I could say stuff like that without getting a blank stare.
I also prefer the way she handled being fought over by two guys in the book. Instead of sticking around to see who ‘wins’ her (like most movies are wont to do), she grabs her board and shoots the curl, ignoring everyone’s shouts, completely absorbed in the perfect wave.
Give 'em the finger, kid. Nobody puts Gidget in the corner.
General, C-95m, USA.
D: Paul Wendkos. Sandra Dee, James Darren, Cliff Robertson, Arthur O’Connell, Yvonne Craig, The Four Preps.
Tagline: Watch out Brigitte...here comes Gidget!
This is basically a corny coming-of-age story, with a look at the social mores of the Eisenhower era. It’s fun, silly, innocent, and the best of the “Gidget” movies, bar none. I couldn’t bear to sit through those, even for a few minutes. Yet I love this movie for its kitchiness - it's like looking at old photographs and smiling at the silly hairdos, and thinking, "Wow, we looked so dorky. Wonder what the old gang is doing now?"
It’s the summer of ’59 and Francie Lawrence (an annoyingly perky Sandra Dee) is sixteen, petite, as one character puts, "practically pushing seventeen!" She’s an only child, doted on by her well-to-do parents Russell and Dorothy (Arthur Kennedy and Mary La Roche). Her friends (including one ambiguous female nicknamed "B.L." (for Betty Louise) and Yvonne "Batgirl" Craig) are all boy-crazy and she reluctantly lets herself get dragged on a ‘man hunt’.
“She just has to make it this summer!” one girl squeals.
"Oh, poor Francie. Back to senior year with nothing to show for it!” The girlfriends pose and preen on the sand, waiting for the guys to notice them. Francie keeps 'ruining the picture', whatever that means. She has no figure to speak of, which is a running joke.
The male surfers don’t want a girl around. “This beach is for surfers only, not dames.”
"Oh, I’m not a dame…” she protests.
Rather alarmingly, they cluster around her. “Well, it has all the earmarks of a dame.”
One leers at her flat chest, “Those aren’t ears.” Ugh.
The manhunt is declared a 'dry run'. “Say, let’s go to Santa Barbara, but without the papoose in tow.”
She realizes that her presence is unwanted and opts to go swimming on her own instead of continuing the manhunt.
“Francie, you’ve always been part of a foursome!” Patti, one of her friends reproaches in a half-hearted attempt to include her. “You’ll be an outcast, out in the cold!”
"It's already happened, Patti. I just don't fit in anymore."
I really detested her so-called 'friends'. They’re catty, shallow, and just plain horrible. I know they’re only characters, but I get the feeling that there is some basis in reality for this portrayal, given the time they’re living in. We've all met the kind of women they grow up to become.
Despite her declaration that she's a 'real good swimmer', Francie nearly drowns twice and has to be rescued by Moondoggie, one of the surfers. As he guides them back to the beach on his surfboard, they encounter a big wave and the thrill makes her forget that she almost drowned. As most of us know, he will be her first love and have to suffer through four bad sequels and a TV series and Gidget will be a different girl every time. The poor guy starts with Sandra Dee and somehow finds himself with Deborah Whalley and Sally Field before she became a flying nun. After the rescue, she meets the guys who jeered at her earlier: Hot Shot, Stinky, Loverboy, Waikiki, Lord Byron. The leader, dubbed the Big Kahuna (Hawaiian for 'chief'), is a good-looking older guy in his thirties. They're wholesome beach bum types, though hoodlums by Eisenhower standards, meaning those of Francie's stuffy father.
Her love interest, Moondoggie (James Darren) is a wannabe, a trust fund brat who ditches college because, in his words, he can’t measure up to the old man. His man-crush on Kahuna is pretty laughable, though I suppose the latter is supposed to be a father figure – one who doesn’t make demands.
Bitten by the surfing bug, Francie begs for early birthday money to buy a used board and then devotes herself to learning the sport. The guys nickname her ‘Gidget’ (meaning ‘girl midget) and she becomes their mascot. The ‘initiation’ is pretty rough: Moondoggie, though somewhat nicer to her than the others, nearly drowns the poor kid, shoving her head underwater to cut kelp. It’s a very sadistic scene. She barely has time to gulp some air before he forces her head down again. I felt sick watching it. Through a few surfy misadventures, Moondoggie develops protective feelings toward her, much against his will. When he begins to acknowledge his feelings, it's patronizing. "A girl like you is a lot of responsibility." I felt like saying, "Gee whiz. Like a puppy?"
Eventually, Gidget practices on her own and learns the Ways of the Surfer. "Surfing is out of this world. You can't imagine the thrill of the shooting the curl. It positively surpasses every living emotion I've ever had!" It's this enthusiasm that makes this kid sparkle. The only character to treat her with some respect is Kahuna (Cliff Robertson), meaning he doesn’t make fun of her like the others. The other guys worship him, especially Moondoggie, who constantly says things like, “We’re two of a kind, the Kahuna and me!” Yep, total man-crush.
Later we discover that Kahuna isn’t what he seems, and in bid to make Moondoggie jealous, Gidget gets in way over her head when Kahuna almost forgets that “it’s just a game.” In some ways, he’s the most interesting character in the movie. He’s not a bad man, but a weary one. He enjoys his position as alpha dog to a point, but knows that at the end of the summer, he’ll have to move on to the next beach or grow up. Part of the burden is the gang’s adulation – how does a guy live up to his own reputation when it’s not who he is? Or wants to be? Gidget gets him thinking, which echoes the words of her grandmother’s sampler: A real woman brings out the best in a man. Old-fashioned, but in some ways true. It could apply to anyone. Why not replace ‘woman’ with ‘parent’ and ‘man’ with ‘child’? I’m sure there are other variations of someone bringing out the best in another person. Still, too bad Kahuna was too old for her. I’d take him over everyone else in this movie.
Her mother is a good listener, though her advice is definitely geared to steer Gidget on the road to happy housewife. Mary La Roche gives a sly performance, giving the 50’s Mom role more spin than another actress would. She’s understanding and supportive, without being a blankly smiling Stepford wife. Arthur Kennedy (also in 1955’s Picnic) is a doting, but clueless father who needs his wife to calm him down during Gidget’s antics. He just wants his daughter to date the ‘right kind of boy’ – hence his constant hints of fixing her up with the dull son of a colleague. When Gidget eagerly tells her about the ‘crew’ and Moondoggie, Mom fishes gently, “And is he the one you like best?”
Poor Gidget just isn’t ready to date, despite a dubious ‘happy ending’. Her ‘coming-of-age’ is forced upon her through shunning (by her girlfriends) and gentle pressure from her well-meaning parents, leading to her desperation to be accepted before senior year. Kids develop at different rates, and I don't believe anyone should be pushed into adult situations, no matter how old they are physically. If they're emotionally fragile, the results could be disastrous.
But this sunny film has its dark side, which is unusual for films of this genre and time. At first glance, it's a silly beach party film like the ones Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon used to frolic in, but the subtext beneath the insipid dialogue shows what Hollywood wanted society to be. Feminism was barely existent in films, but some tried. And probably got rewritten in order to force a 'happy ending', in case some impressionable young girl got "ideas" and strayed from the path of wife and motherhood. And make sure that those crazy kids didn't find living on the beach too attractive. Otherwise, they might quit school, tear up their rich daddy's cheque of $150.00, and call themselves "Moondoggie". Oh, those hooligans...
Everyone treats her like crap; even her own parents insult her. Russell, her father, watching Francie approach the house in her soggy bathing gear, asks doubtfully, “That’s a ‘manhunter’?”
Dorothy, her mother retorts, “What did you expect? Kim Novak?”
Francie: Gee, thanks, Mom and Dad. Love you, too. By the way, why don't you take a look at these brochures? These places have the cutest names, don't you think? Sunnyrest, Shady Oaks, Sunset Manor...
Gidget and 1986's Dirty Dancing are so similar that I wonder if the former inspired the other. Both feature gawky young girls coming of age, learning to surf and dance, respectively. Their names are similar (Francie "Gidget" Lawrence and Frances "Baby" Houseman). They're both denied access to groups (because of Gidget's immaturity and Baby's social position). Only Gidget doesn't have Patrick Swayzie to back her up when she gets put in the corner. The novel by Frederick Kohner is a better, more thoughtful story. Based on the real-life adventures of his teenaged daughter and embellished for dramatic purposes, the novel was described as a "Catcher in the Rye for girls". I read it, and was surprised to find that it wasn’t far off the mark. The novel - originally entitled, Gidget, the Little Girl with Big Ideas - is more realistic, and I found her teenage slang both quaint and charming. I love the beatnik lingo: "Creamy!" (for wonderful) and lines like, "Pretend you're real gone over me. Gimme the mad rush." Man, I wish I could say stuff like that without getting a blank stare.
I also prefer the way she handled being fought over by two guys in the book. Instead of sticking around to see who ‘wins’ her (like most movies are wont to do), she grabs her board and shoots the curl, ignoring everyone’s shouts, completely absorbed in the perfect wave.
Give 'em the finger, kid. Nobody puts Gidget in the corner.
July 26, 2009
Review Archives (updated)
Articles (2)
Comedy: Do you take it black?
Cool Broads
Movie Reviews (26)
Action-Adventure
Machete (2010) * * * 1/2
Animation
Aristocats, The (1970) * * 1/2
Up (2009) * * * *
Comedy
Blazing Saddles (1974) * * 1/2
The Brady Bunch Movie (1995) * * *
Hangover, The (2009) * * * 1/2
Please Give (2010) * * * 1/2
School of Rock (2003) * * * 1/2
Cult
My Name is Bruce (2007) * 1/2
Drama
Beaches (1988) * * 1/2
Chariots of Fire (1981) * * 1/2
The King's Speech (2010) * * * *
Precious (2009) * * * *
Fantasy
Nanny McPhee (2005) * * *
Northfork (2003) * * * *
Foreign
Au Revoir, Les Enfantes (1987/French) * * * *
Horror
Drag Me to Hell (2009) * * * *
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986) * * * *
Romance
Always (1989) * * 1/2
Gidget (1959) * * *
Suspense
An American Crime (2007) * * *
American, The (2010) * * * *
Double Indemnity (1944) * * * *
In the Heat of the Night (1967) * * * *
The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) * * * 1/2
The Square (2008) * * * 1/2
The Stepfather (2009) * 1/2
Westerns
Duel in the Sun (1946) * * *
Comedy: Do you take it black?
Cool Broads
Movie Reviews (26)
Action-Adventure
Machete (2010) * * * 1/2
Animation
Aristocats, The (1970) * * 1/2
Up (2009) * * * *
Comedy
Blazing Saddles (1974) * * 1/2
The Brady Bunch Movie (1995) * * *
Hangover, The (2009) * * * 1/2
Please Give (2010) * * * 1/2
School of Rock (2003) * * * 1/2
Cult
My Name is Bruce (2007) * 1/2
Drama
Beaches (1988) * * 1/2
Chariots of Fire (1981) * * 1/2
The King's Speech (2010) * * * *
Precious (2009) * * * *
Fantasy
Nanny McPhee (2005) * * *
Northfork (2003) * * * *
Foreign
Au Revoir, Les Enfantes (1987/French) * * * *
Horror
Drag Me to Hell (2009) * * * *
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986) * * * *
Romance
Always (1989) * * 1/2
Gidget (1959) * * *
Suspense
An American Crime (2007) * * *
American, The (2010) * * * *
Double Indemnity (1944) * * * *
In the Heat of the Night (1967) * * * *
The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) * * * 1/2
The Square (2008) * * * 1/2
The Stepfather (2009) * 1/2
Westerns
Duel in the Sun (1946) * * *
July 23, 2009
NORTHFORK (2003)
* * * *
PG-13 (brief, blink-and-you-miss-it sexuality), C-103m, USA
D: The Polish Brothers. Peter Coyote, Anthony Edwards, Duel Farnes, Daryl Hannah, Kyle MacLachlin, Nick Nolte, Mark Polish, James Woods)
There is no tagline for the movie poster. Instead, film critic Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times is quoted on it: “A masterpiece! A visionary epic!”
He is so right.
This gentle, whimsical film only ran for one week in theatres, but word of mouth saved it from obscurity. Some movies are so understated and special that they don’t get the audience they deserve, especially in a culture bred on fast food and reality television. This was shown to me on video a few years ago, and I admit that I did not get it the first time. Maybe I wasn’t in the mood. It took three viewings for its magic to work on me, and I am not a patient woman. Some films do require that you be in the mood, free of distractions so you can focus. They demand that you pay attention, which isn’t many people’s idea of entertainment - certainly not mine. At first, I thought it was pretentious and slow. But some things are worth the effort in order to reap the rewards. You cannot be in a rush to appreciate beautiful landscapes, taciturn dialogue, or even meaningful silences. It’s like setting out to fish on the lake or hiking in the woods. The less people around, the sharper your senses become, because it’s simply you and Nature. If you take a deep breath and savour the aroma of a delicious broth and sip it slowly instead of guzzling it, you’ll enjoy it more.
Northfork is a fable based on a real-life incident in 1955. A dam has been built, and the residents of a Montana town must evacuate for higher ground before they get flooded. They also must dig up their graves and relocate their cemetery. The town is almost completed deserted, with the exception of four households. It is the duty of six men in somber black suits to evacuate each home before the dam bursts and wipes out everything. There are several sub-plots that interweave and knit together. I won’t bore you with the details – this should not be described – you’ll probably think I’m on crack if I even try. It is something to experience and savour firsthand, preferably in a dark room and on as large a TV as you can get your grubby little hands on. If you must, steal one. Also, watch it alone, if possible. Unless they’re serious movie geeks, don’t let them come within a hundred feet of your TV for at least two hours. Like beautiful music, it takes silence to appreciate this film.
This was supposed to be my first review when I started this movie blog. At first I paid attention, pen poised to scribble down notes. Over a few moments, something shifted. When I saw a coffin bob to the surface of a lake, I was intrigued, and in a few moments, my hand hovered over the page, perfectly still. It reminded me of Henri Rousseau’s The Sleeping Gypsy. There are many arresting images like this one. For example, the iconic image of a Buick and an ark on stilts is positively surreal.
A depressed Walter O’Brien (a very subdued James Woods), sits in his car, remembering his life about twenty years ago as a young newlywed, holding his beloved wife in his arms – they seem to be flickering images in an old silent film. It is a lovely moment – wistful and sad. Older widows and widowers must have moments like these in real life. It’s hard to imagine your grandparents with weathered faces and tired bodies being in love – but of course, they were. At least I hope so. Grandma and Grandpa were not always old and frail, and if they were lucky, they had ‘those’ feelings for each other. After a few moments, Walter shakes himself out of his reverie and starts the car. He has a job to do, and a special quest… perhaps something to do with the floating coffin?
In his final church service, Father Harlan (Nick Nolte) tells his dwindling congregation, "It all depends on how you look at it –we are either halfway to heaven or halfway to hell." In another part of town, a young couple drives to the orphanage on their way to evacuation. Eight-year-old Irwin, their adopted son, is deathly ill, and cannot travel. Father Harlan greets them and helps the man place the boy on the only cot left in the dormitory, with the sobbing wife following them. In his office, they ask him to keep him. This is obviously the husband’s idea, and it’s not a temporary arrangement. To them, a sick child is defective. All the doctors have left Northfork, so the kid doesn't even get proper medical care.
The priest can barely contain his shock at their callous pragmatism. “You're returning him, then?”
They are ashamed, but not enough to change their minds. “We apologize, Father.”
He says evenly, “We appreciate your honesty, and will ask for forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness? Let's be honest, Father. You gave us a sick child.”
“I gave you an angel!”
If he were a different kind of man, Nick Nolte, er, Father Harlan would snap this guy over his knee like a piece of balsa wood. But, this is a kinder, gentler Nick Nolte, so he lets them live. After they leave, he resigns himself to making the boy’s final days bearable. He nurses him, puts him back into bed when he falls out, and gets attached despite himself. He is more than just a priest doing his duty to comfort the sick. In every way but biologically, he is the boy’s true father. It is a truly beautiful sight to see this gentle giant take care of Irwin and standing guard over him. And when another couple seeks to adopt him, he refuses to even let them meet him. In Irwin's state, raising his hopes and dashing them will definitely kill him; so even the chance that they might decide to get him out of harm’s way isn’t even worth it. If he’s dying anyway, it might as well be in familiar surroundings, with someone who actually loves the child.
In his sickbed, Irwin has his own quest. In a feverish state, he wanders away from Father Harlan and Northfork and finds a motley crew of angels in various costumes of the past eras: Flower Hercules (Daryl Hannah) a hermaphrodite in Elizabethan costume, and Cod, a silent cowboy (Ben Foster), to list a couple. But they too, are seeking something – The Unknown Angel, waiting for him to arrive so they can move on. Irwin believes that he himself is an angel kidnapped by humans, and even shows them the scars on his shoulder blades, where the feathers had been. He begs them to take him with them, but alas, they do not take children.
As he slips in and out of consciousness, so do we. Irwin's journey is like a trip to Oz, after all the Munchkins have deserted the place. Only a few colourful characters have remained, and they view the outside world with suspicion, perhaps because they've seen too much. Are they real, or figments of Irwin’s imagination? You could choose either answer and still be right. They may reside inside his head, but by the end, they are definitely real. The photography is simply amazing. According to the directors, this film was shot in colour, with grey added for texture.The editing is flawless, and strategically transitions between muted colour and black-and-white. This is an Edward Hopper painting come to life.
Who will enjoy it? I'd say that it would appeal to fans of The Coen Brothers (especially O Brother, Where Are Thou? and The Hudsucker Proxy). And it will likely entertain people who enjoy puns and clever wordplay. Anyone else, probably not.
For example:
The town is dammed (damned)
Onboard the ark: “We’re all in the same boat.”
One stubborn cuss named Mr. Stalling builds an ark, rounding up two of everything, including two wives. James Woods is bemused by this: (“you must be Mrs. Stalling, and you must be, um, Mrs. Stalling...”)
When Walter is talking to his son Willis, he asks, "What are you talking about, Willis?”
And perhaps the most important statement of all is made by one of the men assigned to move people to higher ground: "It's our job to move people, not change their beliefs."
All performances are understated and perfect. Nick Nolte, James Woods and young Duel Farnes are especially good here. Woods doesn’t act like his patented psycho, and surprise, surprise! Nolte doesn’t leave a growing body count. Farnes, who plays the deathly ill Irwin is excellent – it’s hard to believe that he had never acted before. He’s not a precocious Movie Kid – he doesn’t mug for the camera or scream, slap both cheeks or bug out his eyes. He is not revoltingly cute. This is a real child and my rare maternal instincts kicked in – I just wanted to give him chicken soup – with a little help from Campbell’s, of course. Hey, it’s the thought that counts.
There is Christian imagery throughout, but not in an off-putting, preachy way. It’s not disrespectful, and non-religious people can enjoy it too. The weekly Catechism classes I was forced to attend until grade seven came in handy. It was actually fun to spot various biblical references. There are lonesome tableaux, iconic images of men in suits and fedoras - again, an Edward Hopper painting. Similar images from The Matrix and Dark City comes to mind.
Sadness and joy - Northfork celebrates life, and eases the passage into the afterlife. As one character puts it, “Remember when you leave to pack all your good memories. No one else will pack them for you.” Despite melancholy situations and impending disaster, this is not a depressing film. On the contrary, I found it quietly uplifting. It reminded me of an old Twilight Zone episode where an old woman is so frightened of Mr. Death that she's sure she knows what he'll look like, and refuses to leave the house in case he's out there, waiting. We learn here, as well, that Death is not always a bogeyman to be feared. Sometimes it holds your hand and gently guides you to the other side.
PG-13 (brief, blink-and-you-miss-it sexuality), C-103m, USA
D: The Polish Brothers. Peter Coyote, Anthony Edwards, Duel Farnes, Daryl Hannah, Kyle MacLachlin, Nick Nolte, Mark Polish, James Woods)
There is no tagline for the movie poster. Instead, film critic Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times is quoted on it: “A masterpiece! A visionary epic!”
He is so right.
This gentle, whimsical film only ran for one week in theatres, but word of mouth saved it from obscurity. Some movies are so understated and special that they don’t get the audience they deserve, especially in a culture bred on fast food and reality television. This was shown to me on video a few years ago, and I admit that I did not get it the first time. Maybe I wasn’t in the mood. It took three viewings for its magic to work on me, and I am not a patient woman. Some films do require that you be in the mood, free of distractions so you can focus. They demand that you pay attention, which isn’t many people’s idea of entertainment - certainly not mine. At first, I thought it was pretentious and slow. But some things are worth the effort in order to reap the rewards. You cannot be in a rush to appreciate beautiful landscapes, taciturn dialogue, or even meaningful silences. It’s like setting out to fish on the lake or hiking in the woods. The less people around, the sharper your senses become, because it’s simply you and Nature. If you take a deep breath and savour the aroma of a delicious broth and sip it slowly instead of guzzling it, you’ll enjoy it more.
Northfork is a fable based on a real-life incident in 1955. A dam has been built, and the residents of a Montana town must evacuate for higher ground before they get flooded. They also must dig up their graves and relocate their cemetery. The town is almost completed deserted, with the exception of four households. It is the duty of six men in somber black suits to evacuate each home before the dam bursts and wipes out everything. There are several sub-plots that interweave and knit together. I won’t bore you with the details – this should not be described – you’ll probably think I’m on crack if I even try. It is something to experience and savour firsthand, preferably in a dark room and on as large a TV as you can get your grubby little hands on. If you must, steal one. Also, watch it alone, if possible. Unless they’re serious movie geeks, don’t let them come within a hundred feet of your TV for at least two hours. Like beautiful music, it takes silence to appreciate this film.
This was supposed to be my first review when I started this movie blog. At first I paid attention, pen poised to scribble down notes. Over a few moments, something shifted. When I saw a coffin bob to the surface of a lake, I was intrigued, and in a few moments, my hand hovered over the page, perfectly still. It reminded me of Henri Rousseau’s The Sleeping Gypsy. There are many arresting images like this one. For example, the iconic image of a Buick and an ark on stilts is positively surreal.
A depressed Walter O’Brien (a very subdued James Woods), sits in his car, remembering his life about twenty years ago as a young newlywed, holding his beloved wife in his arms – they seem to be flickering images in an old silent film. It is a lovely moment – wistful and sad. Older widows and widowers must have moments like these in real life. It’s hard to imagine your grandparents with weathered faces and tired bodies being in love – but of course, they were. At least I hope so. Grandma and Grandpa were not always old and frail, and if they were lucky, they had ‘those’ feelings for each other. After a few moments, Walter shakes himself out of his reverie and starts the car. He has a job to do, and a special quest… perhaps something to do with the floating coffin?
In his final church service, Father Harlan (Nick Nolte) tells his dwindling congregation, "It all depends on how you look at it –we are either halfway to heaven or halfway to hell." In another part of town, a young couple drives to the orphanage on their way to evacuation. Eight-year-old Irwin, their adopted son, is deathly ill, and cannot travel. Father Harlan greets them and helps the man place the boy on the only cot left in the dormitory, with the sobbing wife following them. In his office, they ask him to keep him. This is obviously the husband’s idea, and it’s not a temporary arrangement. To them, a sick child is defective. All the doctors have left Northfork, so the kid doesn't even get proper medical care.
The priest can barely contain his shock at their callous pragmatism. “You're returning him, then?”
They are ashamed, but not enough to change their minds. “We apologize, Father.”
He says evenly, “We appreciate your honesty, and will ask for forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness? Let's be honest, Father. You gave us a sick child.”
“I gave you an angel!”
If he were a different kind of man, Nick Nolte, er, Father Harlan would snap this guy over his knee like a piece of balsa wood. But, this is a kinder, gentler Nick Nolte, so he lets them live. After they leave, he resigns himself to making the boy’s final days bearable. He nurses him, puts him back into bed when he falls out, and gets attached despite himself. He is more than just a priest doing his duty to comfort the sick. In every way but biologically, he is the boy’s true father. It is a truly beautiful sight to see this gentle giant take care of Irwin and standing guard over him. And when another couple seeks to adopt him, he refuses to even let them meet him. In Irwin's state, raising his hopes and dashing them will definitely kill him; so even the chance that they might decide to get him out of harm’s way isn’t even worth it. If he’s dying anyway, it might as well be in familiar surroundings, with someone who actually loves the child.
In his sickbed, Irwin has his own quest. In a feverish state, he wanders away from Father Harlan and Northfork and finds a motley crew of angels in various costumes of the past eras: Flower Hercules (Daryl Hannah) a hermaphrodite in Elizabethan costume, and Cod, a silent cowboy (Ben Foster), to list a couple. But they too, are seeking something – The Unknown Angel, waiting for him to arrive so they can move on. Irwin believes that he himself is an angel kidnapped by humans, and even shows them the scars on his shoulder blades, where the feathers had been. He begs them to take him with them, but alas, they do not take children.
As he slips in and out of consciousness, so do we. Irwin's journey is like a trip to Oz, after all the Munchkins have deserted the place. Only a few colourful characters have remained, and they view the outside world with suspicion, perhaps because they've seen too much. Are they real, or figments of Irwin’s imagination? You could choose either answer and still be right. They may reside inside his head, but by the end, they are definitely real. The photography is simply amazing. According to the directors, this film was shot in colour, with grey added for texture.The editing is flawless, and strategically transitions between muted colour and black-and-white. This is an Edward Hopper painting come to life.
Who will enjoy it? I'd say that it would appeal to fans of The Coen Brothers (especially O Brother, Where Are Thou? and The Hudsucker Proxy). And it will likely entertain people who enjoy puns and clever wordplay. Anyone else, probably not.
For example:
And perhaps the most important statement of all is made by one of the men assigned to move people to higher ground: "It's our job to move people, not change their beliefs."
All performances are understated and perfect. Nick Nolte, James Woods and young Duel Farnes are especially good here. Woods doesn’t act like his patented psycho, and surprise, surprise! Nolte doesn’t leave a growing body count. Farnes, who plays the deathly ill Irwin is excellent – it’s hard to believe that he had never acted before. He’s not a precocious Movie Kid – he doesn’t mug for the camera or scream, slap both cheeks or bug out his eyes. He is not revoltingly cute. This is a real child and my rare maternal instincts kicked in – I just wanted to give him chicken soup – with a little help from Campbell’s, of course. Hey, it’s the thought that counts.
There is Christian imagery throughout, but not in an off-putting, preachy way. It’s not disrespectful, and non-religious people can enjoy it too. The weekly Catechism classes I was forced to attend until grade seven came in handy. It was actually fun to spot various biblical references. There are lonesome tableaux, iconic images of men in suits and fedoras - again, an Edward Hopper painting. Similar images from The Matrix and Dark City comes to mind.
Sadness and joy - Northfork celebrates life, and eases the passage into the afterlife. As one character puts it, “Remember when you leave to pack all your good memories. No one else will pack them for you.” Despite melancholy situations and impending disaster, this is not a depressing film. On the contrary, I found it quietly uplifting. It reminded me of an old Twilight Zone episode where an old woman is so frightened of Mr. Death that she's sure she knows what he'll look like, and refuses to leave the house in case he's out there, waiting. We learn here, as well, that Death is not always a bogeyman to be feared. Sometimes it holds your hand and gently guides you to the other side.
July 07, 2009
SCHOOL OF ROCK (2003)
* * * 1/2
PG-13 (rude humour and some drug references), C-108m. USA, Germany
D: Art Linklater. Jack Black, Joan Cusack, Mike White, Sarah Silverman.
Tagline: Mr. Black. Accept no substitute.
If you see just one Jack Black film in your entire life, make it School of Rock. He simply lets the beast loose and gives a blistering performance as Dewey Finn, an overweight musician who eats, drinks, and breathes rock-and-roll. He's a slacker who doesn't pay rent and allows his friend and room mate to pay his share, shows up late for rehearsals, hogs the spotlight, and cheerfully goes along his merry way without considering boring things like rent, bills, or responsibility. That's for drones, dude. He's a creature of the moment. It's not that he's a bad person - he just has better things to do... like rock out! He dreads the idea of a "real" job; to him, that's selling out, man. Giving up what he loves is like giving up oxygen.
Dewey's passion for rock is so all-consuming that when it's timidly suggested that he sell one of his guitars to pay the rent, he asks incredulously, "Would you tell Picasso to sell one of his guitars?"
After one drunken grandstanding stunt too many, he gets the old heave-ho from his own band. Room mate Ned Schneebly (Mike White, who wrote the screenplay especially for Black, who does vocals and guitar for the rock band Tenacious D), a milquetoast substitute teacher, is pressured by bossy girlfriend Patty Di Marco (bitchily played by Sarah Silverman) to give Dewey an ultimatum: Get a "real" job or move out. She's is an emotional vampire, sucking the life out of wussy Ned and licking her lips for more; she's sort of a less malignant version of Melissa, the girlfriend from hell who browbeats poor Ed Helms in The Hangover. If you’ve ever caught her offbeat The Comedy Network’s The Sarah Silverman Show, you'll find her shrewish performance here is quite a departure from her own slacker persona.
With eviction on the horizon, Dewey is on the brink of spiralling depression until opportunity knocks... or rather, rings. He receives a call intended for Ned and after learning that a few weeks of teaching will earn the money he owes, steals Ned's substitute teacher job by impersonating him.
At first, our scruffy scalawag has no respect for the teaching profession, dismissing it as easy money for babysitting a bunch of kids. But when he finds himself teaching fifth grade at a prep school run by the tightly-wound Principal Roz Mullins (the always excellent Joan Cusack), it's a rocky start, and he has to scramble fast to keep up the charade. He might be able to fool Principal Mullins, but these kids are no fools. Movie kids never are.
Awkward and unprepared, he tries to give his students nothing but free time, but as most of us recall, time in a classroom goes slower than spectator golf. It's only when he accidentally overhears their music class that Dewey realizes that some of his students actually have talent, and gets a brilliant idea, telling them that they're going to do a class project called "Rock Band". Not only does it sort of get him off the hook, but he sees an opportunity to create his own band to enter the Battle of the Bands Contest and avenge his ousting from his old band by winning the $20,000 prize. True to 'teacher movies' of this type, Dewey (or "Mr. S", as he calls himself after an unsuccessful attempt to write 'Mr. Schneebly' on the board), finds himself bonding with his students, and even remembering their names by the time the credits start to roll. Aw... nobody saw that coming, did they? Gosh, I sure didn't!
But it's the way he does it that's a joy to watch. Not everyone is musically gifted, so he assigns them real jobs: roadies, security, special effects, costumes, sound, etc. Even groupies (or "cheerleaders" as he describes them to an understandably unimpressed student) get to name the band, and design t-shirts. And just what do you do with a colossally unmusical Type A ten-year-old who threatens to blow the whistle on you for trying to make her a groupie? Why, make her the band manager, of course.
When Mr. S asks the 'musical' ones who their influences are, he's appalled by the answers. When he hears, "Christina Aguilera", you can just see his little rockin' heart breaking. Imagine his reaction to American Idol. That's when he gets serious and decides to expose them to what he considers to be real rock: The Beatles, Janis Joplin, Pink Floyd, AC/DC, and especially Jimi Hendrix, Iggy Pop, and Kurt Cobain. He teaches them the joy of expressing their creativity and stickin' it to the Man. As you'd expect with a 'teacher movie', everyone changes in one way or another. The kids learn to loosen up and feel the joy of challenging themselves. They need him, or there's a chance they'll end up beaten down by convention and rules like poor Ned - especially one young boy who is constantly browbeaten by his humourless father. Boy, does he need a different father figure. Dewey changes too, without compromising who he is. More importantly, he learns when to lead and when to graciously step aside, to be an effective leader and guide their talents so that everyone can contribute to the band and feel a real sense of accomplishment.
Gee... do you think our boy Dewey has found his calling?
Joan Cusack more than holds her own with the more flamboyant Black as the uptight principal with a secret rocker-chick side. She has had a great career as a screen sidekick, and I really wish she would get her own movie. With her wonderfully expressive face and gangly Olive Oyl limbs, she may not be "Hollywood" beautiful, but she's every bit as talented as her brother John and easily steals every scene she's in, including those as Melanie Griffith's gal pal in 1988's Working Girl. She can certainly act better than baby-voiced Griffith, that's for sure. But that's another review... maybe.
It's to Mike White's credit and utter lack of vanity that he lets everyone else eat the scenery. As a writer of such character-based gems as Chuck and Buck, The Good Girl, and Year of the Dog, White is smart enough to let Jack Black do his thing, and then very timidly reminds us that he's there as the unappealing yin to Dewey's yang. Like Ed Helms’ hen-pecked character in The Hangover, Ned is completely cowed and unable to stand up to a female bully. But unlike the other guy, he is so contemptibly weak that you really don’t feel like saving him. It’s too much fun to watch.
“Dewey, maybe you should give up those dreams. I mean, I did..." Ned glances nervously at his fiercely approving fiancée and lamely finishes, "and things are going really great for me." He desperately believes that his path is the smarter, more sensible one, even though he's sure to die slowly from the inside. Patty's thirsty, and she's got that soul-suckin' straw ready.
Even his so-called ‘best friend’ has affectionate contempt for him. Note what Dewey wears on his first day of teaching; the tweedy 'teacher outfit', complete with cardigan, Orville Redenbacher bow tie, and hair neatly combed and parted to the side is ridiculously reminiscent of dorky Archie Andrews from the 1940s comics. It's so strange to see Jack Black with his hair combed, but perfect for the character. With his low opinion of Ned's profession, this is exactly what Dewey Finn would imagine a substitute teacher to look like. He probably dunked Ned's head in a few toilets before they became friends in school. I can just see grade-school Dewey offering 'protection' in exchange for the Anemic One to do his homework for him. It’s safe to assume that he likely recruited Ned as a band member earlier, which is why the photo of Rocker Ned-before-Patty looks hilariously pathetic. And how else could we possibly imagine Ned as a rocker before Patty got her hooks into him?
The Jack is wild here - he's a dervish and force of nature. He's like the illegitimate offspring of John Belushi, Meatloaf, Wolfman Jack, and the Tazmanian Devil. He's practically a cartoon character. Watch the way his eyes dart around as he's scheming, how those beetled eyebrows do a weird 'wave' from one end to the other, especially when he listens to the kids' music class. With a lesser actor, it would be cheap mugging but Black is too good for that, and never winks at the audience. He reminded me of Bill Murray's Tripper Harrison in 1979's Meatballs, another cheerfully anarchic character who inspires the sad sack youngsters in a crappy summer camp to thumb their noses at the Man.
Black shows chops as a serious actor and dials it way down when acting across from thespian heavyweights Nicole Kidman and Jennifer Jason Leigh in Margo at the Wedding (2007), as well as in King Kong (2005) with Naomi Watts. Like fellow madman Jim Carrey, he can do more than just mug and cavort for the camera. I remember watching an old X-Files episode (D.P.O. Season 3, Episode 3) and being completely taken by surprise when I recognized a young Jack Black as the villain's clueless best friend. I should have known then that this guy was lightning in a bottle - it was just a matter of time before someone let it out.
The kids are marvels. Despite being having no professional acting experience, they seem to enjoy working with Wild Jack, and though nobody is likely to pull an Anna Paquin, no one falls into the pit of dreadful kid-acting that seems to permeate Disney's Family Channel either. Best of all, there’s no air guitar or lip-syncing here. They play their own instruments and believably evolve from amateurish band standards to a bona fide rock performance.
In my opinion, the PG-13 rating is too strict. It’s a great family film, and everyone (maybe seven and older) can enjoy it. If anything, maybe your kid will stop bugging you for Guitar Hero™ and ask to learn to play a real instrument.
If not, well, just smile and let them find out the hard way when they throw themselves into a mosh pit and nobody bothers to catch them.
PG-13 (rude humour and some drug references), C-108m. USA, Germany
D: Art Linklater. Jack Black, Joan Cusack, Mike White, Sarah Silverman.
Tagline: Mr. Black. Accept no substitute.
If you see just one Jack Black film in your entire life, make it School of Rock. He simply lets the beast loose and gives a blistering performance as Dewey Finn, an overweight musician who eats, drinks, and breathes rock-and-roll. He's a slacker who doesn't pay rent and allows his friend and room mate to pay his share, shows up late for rehearsals, hogs the spotlight, and cheerfully goes along his merry way without considering boring things like rent, bills, or responsibility. That's for drones, dude. He's a creature of the moment. It's not that he's a bad person - he just has better things to do... like rock out! He dreads the idea of a "real" job; to him, that's selling out, man. Giving up what he loves is like giving up oxygen.
Dewey's passion for rock is so all-consuming that when it's timidly suggested that he sell one of his guitars to pay the rent, he asks incredulously, "Would you tell Picasso to sell one of his guitars?"
After one drunken grandstanding stunt too many, he gets the old heave-ho from his own band. Room mate Ned Schneebly (Mike White, who wrote the screenplay especially for Black, who does vocals and guitar for the rock band Tenacious D), a milquetoast substitute teacher, is pressured by bossy girlfriend Patty Di Marco (bitchily played by Sarah Silverman) to give Dewey an ultimatum: Get a "real" job or move out. She's is an emotional vampire, sucking the life out of wussy Ned and licking her lips for more; she's sort of a less malignant version of Melissa, the girlfriend from hell who browbeats poor Ed Helms in The Hangover. If you’ve ever caught her offbeat The Comedy Network’s The Sarah Silverman Show, you'll find her shrewish performance here is quite a departure from her own slacker persona.
With eviction on the horizon, Dewey is on the brink of spiralling depression until opportunity knocks... or rather, rings. He receives a call intended for Ned and after learning that a few weeks of teaching will earn the money he owes, steals Ned's substitute teacher job by impersonating him.
At first, our scruffy scalawag has no respect for the teaching profession, dismissing it as easy money for babysitting a bunch of kids. But when he finds himself teaching fifth grade at a prep school run by the tightly-wound Principal Roz Mullins (the always excellent Joan Cusack), it's a rocky start, and he has to scramble fast to keep up the charade. He might be able to fool Principal Mullins, but these kids are no fools. Movie kids never are.
Awkward and unprepared, he tries to give his students nothing but free time, but as most of us recall, time in a classroom goes slower than spectator golf. It's only when he accidentally overhears their music class that Dewey realizes that some of his students actually have talent, and gets a brilliant idea, telling them that they're going to do a class project called "Rock Band". Not only does it sort of get him off the hook, but he sees an opportunity to create his own band to enter the Battle of the Bands Contest and avenge his ousting from his old band by winning the $20,000 prize. True to 'teacher movies' of this type, Dewey (or "Mr. S", as he calls himself after an unsuccessful attempt to write 'Mr. Schneebly' on the board), finds himself bonding with his students, and even remembering their names by the time the credits start to roll. Aw... nobody saw that coming, did they? Gosh, I sure didn't!
But it's the way he does it that's a joy to watch. Not everyone is musically gifted, so he assigns them real jobs: roadies, security, special effects, costumes, sound, etc. Even groupies (or "cheerleaders" as he describes them to an understandably unimpressed student) get to name the band, and design t-shirts. And just what do you do with a colossally unmusical Type A ten-year-old who threatens to blow the whistle on you for trying to make her a groupie? Why, make her the band manager, of course.
When Mr. S asks the 'musical' ones who their influences are, he's appalled by the answers. When he hears, "Christina Aguilera", you can just see his little rockin' heart breaking. Imagine his reaction to American Idol. That's when he gets serious and decides to expose them to what he considers to be real rock: The Beatles, Janis Joplin, Pink Floyd, AC/DC, and especially Jimi Hendrix, Iggy Pop, and Kurt Cobain. He teaches them the joy of expressing their creativity and stickin' it to the Man. As you'd expect with a 'teacher movie', everyone changes in one way or another. The kids learn to loosen up and feel the joy of challenging themselves. They need him, or there's a chance they'll end up beaten down by convention and rules like poor Ned - especially one young boy who is constantly browbeaten by his humourless father. Boy, does he need a different father figure. Dewey changes too, without compromising who he is. More importantly, he learns when to lead and when to graciously step aside, to be an effective leader and guide their talents so that everyone can contribute to the band and feel a real sense of accomplishment.
Gee... do you think our boy Dewey has found his calling?
Joan Cusack more than holds her own with the more flamboyant Black as the uptight principal with a secret rocker-chick side. She has had a great career as a screen sidekick, and I really wish she would get her own movie. With her wonderfully expressive face and gangly Olive Oyl limbs, she may not be "Hollywood" beautiful, but she's every bit as talented as her brother John and easily steals every scene she's in, including those as Melanie Griffith's gal pal in 1988's Working Girl. She can certainly act better than baby-voiced Griffith, that's for sure. But that's another review... maybe.
It's to Mike White's credit and utter lack of vanity that he lets everyone else eat the scenery. As a writer of such character-based gems as Chuck and Buck, The Good Girl, and Year of the Dog, White is smart enough to let Jack Black do his thing, and then very timidly reminds us that he's there as the unappealing yin to Dewey's yang. Like Ed Helms’ hen-pecked character in The Hangover, Ned is completely cowed and unable to stand up to a female bully. But unlike the other guy, he is so contemptibly weak that you really don’t feel like saving him. It’s too much fun to watch.
“Dewey, maybe you should give up those dreams. I mean, I did..." Ned glances nervously at his fiercely approving fiancée and lamely finishes, "and things are going really great for me." He desperately believes that his path is the smarter, more sensible one, even though he's sure to die slowly from the inside. Patty's thirsty, and she's got that soul-suckin' straw ready.
Even his so-called ‘best friend’ has affectionate contempt for him. Note what Dewey wears on his first day of teaching; the tweedy 'teacher outfit', complete with cardigan, Orville Redenbacher bow tie, and hair neatly combed and parted to the side is ridiculously reminiscent of dorky Archie Andrews from the 1940s comics. It's so strange to see Jack Black with his hair combed, but perfect for the character. With his low opinion of Ned's profession, this is exactly what Dewey Finn would imagine a substitute teacher to look like. He probably dunked Ned's head in a few toilets before they became friends in school. I can just see grade-school Dewey offering 'protection' in exchange for the Anemic One to do his homework for him. It’s safe to assume that he likely recruited Ned as a band member earlier, which is why the photo of Rocker Ned-before-Patty looks hilariously pathetic. And how else could we possibly imagine Ned as a rocker before Patty got her hooks into him?
The Jack is wild here - he's a dervish and force of nature. He's like the illegitimate offspring of John Belushi, Meatloaf, Wolfman Jack, and the Tazmanian Devil. He's practically a cartoon character. Watch the way his eyes dart around as he's scheming, how those beetled eyebrows do a weird 'wave' from one end to the other, especially when he listens to the kids' music class. With a lesser actor, it would be cheap mugging but Black is too good for that, and never winks at the audience. He reminded me of Bill Murray's Tripper Harrison in 1979's Meatballs, another cheerfully anarchic character who inspires the sad sack youngsters in a crappy summer camp to thumb their noses at the Man.
Black shows chops as a serious actor and dials it way down when acting across from thespian heavyweights Nicole Kidman and Jennifer Jason Leigh in Margo at the Wedding (2007), as well as in King Kong (2005) with Naomi Watts. Like fellow madman Jim Carrey, he can do more than just mug and cavort for the camera. I remember watching an old X-Files episode (D.P.O. Season 3, Episode 3) and being completely taken by surprise when I recognized a young Jack Black as the villain's clueless best friend. I should have known then that this guy was lightning in a bottle - it was just a matter of time before someone let it out.
The kids are marvels. Despite being having no professional acting experience, they seem to enjoy working with Wild Jack, and though nobody is likely to pull an Anna Paquin, no one falls into the pit of dreadful kid-acting that seems to permeate Disney's Family Channel either. Best of all, there’s no air guitar or lip-syncing here. They play their own instruments and believably evolve from amateurish band standards to a bona fide rock performance.
In my opinion, the PG-13 rating is too strict. It’s a great family film, and everyone (maybe seven and older) can enjoy it. If anything, maybe your kid will stop bugging you for Guitar Hero™ and ask to learn to play a real instrument.
If not, well, just smile and let them find out the hard way when they throw themselves into a mosh pit and nobody bothers to catch them.
July 05, 2009
THE ARISTOCATS (1970)
* * 1/2
General. 78m, USA
D: Wolfgang Reitherman. Phil Harris, Eva Gabor, Sterling Holloway, Scatman Crothers, Liz English, Dean Clark, Gary Dubin, Paul Winchell, Monica Evans, Carole Shelley, Nancy Culp, Hermione Baddeley, Pat Buttram, George Lindsey.
Tagline: DIG THESE CATS...and all that JAZZ!
The Aristocats is a sentimental favourite of mine. I remember loving it and begging to see it over and over when I was four. Those were the days when Disney only released its animated classics once every seven years. There were no videos or DVDs to look forward to a couple of months later. You had to see the movie at the theatre at the time of release, and if you missed it, you didn't see it again until you hit puberty. And you thought waiting for Christmas morning was bad enough.
The story opens in 1910 Paris, with Maurice Chevalier warbling the title song; then we see an elegantly coiffed old woman ride in a horse-drawn carriage with her family of pampered cats. Chevalier's singing voice is horribly, nasally French – and with a name like mine, I can say that with impunity - he was good in Gaslight, but ever since seeing his leering lothario purring, "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" in 1958's Gigi, he gives me the willies.
Madame Bonfamille, a retired actress/opera singer (which, in those days wasn't far removed from being considered a prostitute), lives a comfortable life of luxury in a big townhouse with Duchess and her three rambunctious kittens. Mother Duchess (Eva Gabor), a beautiful white lady cat, is as refined and elegant as her mistress. The Aristokits are cute, squabbling siblings, all wearing different coloured bows and ribbons to show how wuvved they are. Ginger kit Toulouse is the artistic, pugnacious one, grey kitten Berlioz bangs a mean keyboard, and prissy little Marie, who's a fluffy white miniature version of her mother, is a precocious romantic whom we later discover has the beginnings of an Electra complex. True to the way girl characters were portrayed in the days before Kim Possible, she often gets in the way and needs to be saved from danger.
Madame invites Georges Harcourt, an elderly lawyer (it's hinted that he may also be an old beau) to her home to write her will. How she got this old and rich without even thinking about wills until now will remain a mystery. When the lawyer arrives, Edgar the butler admits him inside the mansion and has to assist the old boy up a 99-stepped staircase when he pooh-poohs using the elevator instead. I wondered, why not install a motorized chair alongside the wall, like Mrs. Deagle? Finally, he makes it to her parlour, and Edgar eavesdrops as Madame instructs Georges to put her cats in the will, then stipulates that dear, faithful Edgar shall inherit her fortune only after the kitties die.
Edgar, who was a good sport before, is naturally pissed off. With his awesome math powers, he realizes that with all those nine lives times four, that he'll never get his mitts on the money before kicking the bucket himself. So he decides to dope the cats' milk (and Roquefort, their mouse buddy by accident) and take them for a little ride in the countryside to 'disappear'.
Not that I blame him for not wanting to wait until the cats shop ‘til they drop, spending millions of francs, but wouldn't it have been smarter to kill Madame and the cats all at the same time and then dump the bodies into the Seine River? Or how about disguising the cats by dipping them in soot, like in 101 Dalmations? But that's just me and my evil brain.
In his attempts to help poor ol' Edgar, my equally evil brother suggested, "Why not wait until Madame dies and the kittens are in his care! Wait a few weeks and then start adding drainer fluid in the cat's milk. Poison them gradually so it looks like they're sick. The best part is he'd be home alone doing this." Upon further discussion, he also suggested dropping each cat in different parts of the country so they don’t get recognized as a ‘group’ of missing felines.
Edgar couldn't get into our gang of criminal masterminds.
Later that night, the cats wake up near a river in a storm, and are terrified and baffled as to how they got there, even though Toulouse keeps saying, "I bet it was old Edgar." Meanwhile, back at the mansion (or as I like to call it, The Cat Cave), Roquefort miraculously wakes from his drugged slumber and dons his cute li’l little Sherlock Holmes outfit and investigates the case of the missing cats, but gets nowhere. It even makes the headlines of the local papers, which is strange. Um, slow news day? Also, if his tiny body mass absorbed the same dosage as the cats, how come it didn’t kill him outright? Now, there’s a case for this Mouse Detective. It could be like D.O.A., that old 1949 noir thriller where Edmond O’Brien is poisoned and has only a few hours to find out who murdered him before he croaks. Alas, ol' Diz never took risks.
Jungle Book alumnae Phil Harris lends his easygoing voice to the O'Malley, a roguish but charismatic alley cat who gets the hots for Duchess and gallantly agrees to help her get home, and reluctantly lets the kids tag along. Eventually, he develops a paternal affection for the little cock-blockers. Hmmm… reddish Toulouse looks an awful lot like him. In fact, none of her kids resemble each other in either fur or eye colour. Maybe Duchess was an "actress" too.
Along the way, they meet a psychotic milkman, and in a scene similar to Stand by Me, barely escape getting mowed down by a train. Marie keeps falling into harm's way and constantly needs to be rescued by O'Malley, who in turn needs to be rescued from Adelaide and Abigail Gabble, a pair of giggly geese on a walking tour of France (Monica Evans and Carole Shelley, doing a slight variation of their shtick from their roles in 1967's Robin Hood). Finally, O'Malley finds a Best Western motel or his 'pad' - don't you just dig that beatnik jive in 1910 France? Then, in the film's most enjoyable sequence, introduces the family to Scat Cat (Scatman Crothers, who voiced King Louie in The Jungle Book in 1967) and his band of jammin’ alley cats. The scene looks like it was shot with coloured cellophane and acid, but it's way more exciting than the catnapping subplot. And I love the way the Scat Cats "crashed" the party.
The music is a mixed bag of French café musack and weird “Disney rock” - that strangely generic "mod" sound that hopelessly square producers invented - sort of Lawrence Welk with sped-up wow-wow-wow guitars, drums, and a pulse. Eg: You may have heard Hayley Mills "rocking out" in “Let’s Get Together” in The Parent Trap. Yes, Disney was still trying to be ‘hip’ with the 1960's "swingers" set, even though the story was set in 1910. He did it again in Robin Hood and Jungle Book. Like, groovy, Daddy-O!
There are a couple of sequences where Edgar encounters two country dogs named incongruously dubbed Napoleon (Pat Buttram) and Lafayette (George Lindsey). There's a point to these scenes, but they simply drag on too long for attention spans shorter than the lifespan of fruit fly - namely mine. Though episodic, and with mild racial sterotypes which you might have to explain to the kiddiwinks, The Aristocats is still lively enough to keep the kids' attention without insulting their intelligence (or yours), and a lot of fun, especially when the cats jam in O'Malley's 'pad' with "Everybody Wants to be a Cat". Young children will enjoy it, and it's a worthy addition to their DVD library. And those who grew up treasuring Disney classics will enjoy it too.
The whimsical artwork is charming, and has more of a watercolour medium than the richer tones of other films. The characters are appealing and memorable. The voice actors were mostly veterans from past Disney features, and they all do a terrific job, especially Phil Harris as O'Malley, who seems to channel his "Baloo" persona and infuse it with a pick-up artist on the make who just happens to be a romantic and is genuinely surprised to discover that he's actually good with kids. Eva Gabor (who would voice Miss Bianca in the The Rescuers movies years later), is fine as Duchess, though the character herself is more pretty than interesting. The kittens all have different personalities, although Marie undoubtedly stands out the most. Just check out all the "Marie" merchandise at any Disney store. I'm surprised it's not called "Marie's Place" instead.
Hmmm... sounds like a whorehouse in the Old West, doesn't it?
General. 78m, USA
D: Wolfgang Reitherman. Phil Harris, Eva Gabor, Sterling Holloway, Scatman Crothers, Liz English, Dean Clark, Gary Dubin, Paul Winchell, Monica Evans, Carole Shelley, Nancy Culp, Hermione Baddeley, Pat Buttram, George Lindsey.
Tagline: DIG THESE CATS...and all that JAZZ!
The Aristocats is a sentimental favourite of mine. I remember loving it and begging to see it over and over when I was four. Those were the days when Disney only released its animated classics once every seven years. There were no videos or DVDs to look forward to a couple of months later. You had to see the movie at the theatre at the time of release, and if you missed it, you didn't see it again until you hit puberty. And you thought waiting for Christmas morning was bad enough.
The story opens in 1910 Paris, with Maurice Chevalier warbling the title song; then we see an elegantly coiffed old woman ride in a horse-drawn carriage with her family of pampered cats. Chevalier's singing voice is horribly, nasally French – and with a name like mine, I can say that with impunity - he was good in Gaslight, but ever since seeing his leering lothario purring, "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" in 1958's Gigi, he gives me the willies.
Madame Bonfamille, a retired actress/opera singer (which, in those days wasn't far removed from being considered a prostitute), lives a comfortable life of luxury in a big townhouse with Duchess and her three rambunctious kittens. Mother Duchess (Eva Gabor), a beautiful white lady cat, is as refined and elegant as her mistress. The Aristokits are cute, squabbling siblings, all wearing different coloured bows and ribbons to show how wuvved they are. Ginger kit Toulouse is the artistic, pugnacious one, grey kitten Berlioz bangs a mean keyboard, and prissy little Marie, who's a fluffy white miniature version of her mother, is a precocious romantic whom we later discover has the beginnings of an Electra complex. True to the way girl characters were portrayed in the days before Kim Possible, she often gets in the way and needs to be saved from danger.
Madame invites Georges Harcourt, an elderly lawyer (it's hinted that he may also be an old beau) to her home to write her will. How she got this old and rich without even thinking about wills until now will remain a mystery. When the lawyer arrives, Edgar the butler admits him inside the mansion and has to assist the old boy up a 99-stepped staircase when he pooh-poohs using the elevator instead. I wondered, why not install a motorized chair alongside the wall, like Mrs. Deagle? Finally, he makes it to her parlour, and Edgar eavesdrops as Madame instructs Georges to put her cats in the will, then stipulates that dear, faithful Edgar shall inherit her fortune only after the kitties die.
Edgar, who was a good sport before, is naturally pissed off. With his awesome math powers, he realizes that with all those nine lives times four, that he'll never get his mitts on the money before kicking the bucket himself. So he decides to dope the cats' milk (and Roquefort, their mouse buddy by accident) and take them for a little ride in the countryside to 'disappear'.
Not that I blame him for not wanting to wait until the cats shop ‘til they drop, spending millions of francs, but wouldn't it have been smarter to kill Madame and the cats all at the same time and then dump the bodies into the Seine River? Or how about disguising the cats by dipping them in soot, like in 101 Dalmations? But that's just me and my evil brain.
In his attempts to help poor ol' Edgar, my equally evil brother suggested, "Why not wait until Madame dies and the kittens are in his care! Wait a few weeks and then start adding drainer fluid in the cat's milk. Poison them gradually so it looks like they're sick. The best part is he'd be home alone doing this." Upon further discussion, he also suggested dropping each cat in different parts of the country so they don’t get recognized as a ‘group’ of missing felines.
Edgar couldn't get into our gang of criminal masterminds.
Later that night, the cats wake up near a river in a storm, and are terrified and baffled as to how they got there, even though Toulouse keeps saying, "I bet it was old Edgar." Meanwhile, back at the mansion (or as I like to call it, The Cat Cave), Roquefort miraculously wakes from his drugged slumber and dons his cute li’l little Sherlock Holmes outfit and investigates the case of the missing cats, but gets nowhere. It even makes the headlines of the local papers, which is strange. Um, slow news day? Also, if his tiny body mass absorbed the same dosage as the cats, how come it didn’t kill him outright? Now, there’s a case for this Mouse Detective. It could be like D.O.A., that old 1949 noir thriller where Edmond O’Brien is poisoned and has only a few hours to find out who murdered him before he croaks. Alas, ol' Diz never took risks.
Jungle Book alumnae Phil Harris lends his easygoing voice to the O'Malley, a roguish but charismatic alley cat who gets the hots for Duchess and gallantly agrees to help her get home, and reluctantly lets the kids tag along. Eventually, he develops a paternal affection for the little cock-blockers. Hmmm… reddish Toulouse looks an awful lot like him. In fact, none of her kids resemble each other in either fur or eye colour. Maybe Duchess was an "actress" too.
Along the way, they meet a psychotic milkman, and in a scene similar to Stand by Me, barely escape getting mowed down by a train. Marie keeps falling into harm's way and constantly needs to be rescued by O'Malley, who in turn needs to be rescued from Adelaide and Abigail Gabble, a pair of giggly geese on a walking tour of France (Monica Evans and Carole Shelley, doing a slight variation of their shtick from their roles in 1967's Robin Hood). Finally, O'Malley finds a Best Western motel or his 'pad' - don't you just dig that beatnik jive in 1910 France? Then, in the film's most enjoyable sequence, introduces the family to Scat Cat (Scatman Crothers, who voiced King Louie in The Jungle Book in 1967) and his band of jammin’ alley cats. The scene looks like it was shot with coloured cellophane and acid, but it's way more exciting than the catnapping subplot. And I love the way the Scat Cats "crashed" the party.
The music is a mixed bag of French café musack and weird “Disney rock” - that strangely generic "mod" sound that hopelessly square producers invented - sort of Lawrence Welk with sped-up wow-wow-wow guitars, drums, and a pulse. Eg: You may have heard Hayley Mills "rocking out" in “Let’s Get Together” in The Parent Trap. Yes, Disney was still trying to be ‘hip’ with the 1960's "swingers" set, even though the story was set in 1910. He did it again in Robin Hood and Jungle Book. Like, groovy, Daddy-O!
There are a couple of sequences where Edgar encounters two country dogs named incongruously dubbed Napoleon (Pat Buttram) and Lafayette (George Lindsey). There's a point to these scenes, but they simply drag on too long for attention spans shorter than the lifespan of fruit fly - namely mine. Though episodic, and with mild racial sterotypes which you might have to explain to the kiddiwinks, The Aristocats is still lively enough to keep the kids' attention without insulting their intelligence (or yours), and a lot of fun, especially when the cats jam in O'Malley's 'pad' with "Everybody Wants to be a Cat". Young children will enjoy it, and it's a worthy addition to their DVD library. And those who grew up treasuring Disney classics will enjoy it too.
The whimsical artwork is charming, and has more of a watercolour medium than the richer tones of other films. The characters are appealing and memorable. The voice actors were mostly veterans from past Disney features, and they all do a terrific job, especially Phil Harris as O'Malley, who seems to channel his "Baloo" persona and infuse it with a pick-up artist on the make who just happens to be a romantic and is genuinely surprised to discover that he's actually good with kids. Eva Gabor (who would voice Miss Bianca in the The Rescuers movies years later), is fine as Duchess, though the character herself is more pretty than interesting. The kittens all have different personalities, although Marie undoubtedly stands out the most. Just check out all the "Marie" merchandise at any Disney store. I'm surprised it's not called "Marie's Place" instead.
Hmmm... sounds like a whorehouse in the Old West, doesn't it?
July 01, 2009
Comedy: Do you take it black?
Black comedy is not for everyone. It's not "nice", nor is it gentle or comforting. It pokes fun at subjects that aren't considered humourous at all, like violence, death, religion, politics, love, the power of the human spirit, etc. And on their own, these things are not funny. So why do some of us laugh at this stuff on the silver screen?
Don't get me wrong. I'm as horrified as anyone else about real-life evils such as war, abuse, terrorism, and death. I like to think I'm a good person. I don't really want to hurt anyone. Real-life violence is not acceptable, ever. But being human, I do get angry, and need an outlet so I can smile at people who piss me off and avoid prison.
But... if you're anything like me, you also want to be assured of love and decency in the world, that good people do exist and the exceptional ones will step up and be heroes, like Harriet Tubman, those who gave sanctuary to prosecuted Jews during WWII, firefighters who risk their lives to save others, etc. You know, the real heroes. You want to believe that the bad guys will be punished as they should be in real life. You want to be the New Sheriff in Town, and smite evil in the messiest, more satisfying way possible. Or maybe you want to play Bad Hat for a couple of hours, and rip into the dillholes who make miserable for others, or even boring characters who represent their real-life counterparts in your life and drag you down. Perhaps you watch horror movies and black comedies in order to calm your fears and cope with the real monsters. Whatever it is, you're not a bad person. It's your coping mechanism, that's all. At least, I hope so.
One of my favourite sayings is this: I know how to be evil... I just choose not to be.
Sooooo....
You will hate these films if:
... you just want to be diverted for a couple of hours, but dislike conflicts more complicated than cute misunderstandings and pratfalls.
... you prefer light, non-threatening stories with "America's Sweetheart"-type actresses like Julia Roberts, Meg Ryan or Sandra Bullock as a bland, generically pretty heroine who somehow finds Twu Wuv with an equally bland, generically handsome hero.
... you think movie violence in Bugs Bunny cartoons is just awful. They were right to cut the scenes of Daffy Duck blowing his beak in twenty different directions. And Tom and Jerry should learn to co-exist. And share. And discuss their differences until they alienate their bloodthirsty fans.
These might be too much for the timid or the staunchly virtuous. If you're like Barbara Bush and don't want to waste your beautiful mind, that's your right. I still love you. We just can't go to the movies together, that's all. But if you're willing to look in a dark mirror, you may find some kindred spirits here.
American Psycho (2000) * * * 1/2
Former child actor and future Dark Knight Christian Slater shot to stardom with this nihilistic stab at 80's consumerism. This is about as far into a psychopath's head as you want to go.
Bad Santa (2003) * * *
Billy Bob Thornton won't just give you coal, he'll make you eat it.
Barton Fink (1991) * * * 1/2
The Coen Brothers knock the smugness out of a conceited playwright and that''s just the beginning of this Faustian tale.
Fido (2006) * * *
In this bizarro universe, zombies are not killed, they're programmed to serve the living. Carrie-Anne Moss is adorable as a chipper 50's mom who takes a shine to "Fido", a mild-mannered zombie.
Grosse Pointe Blank (1997) * * *
A hitman (John Cusack) decides to attend his 20th high school reunion.
The Hangover (2009) * * * 1/2
Crude but hilarious road movie about a quartet of guys who go to Las Vegas for their buddy's bachelor party. A few drinks later, they wake up in their hotel room in chaos (including a man-eating tiger in the bathroom!) and the groom-to-be missing.
Heathers (1989) * * * 1/2
Wynona Ryder and Christian Slater wreak havoc upon cliques and high school hierarchy. This is Mean Girls with a shot of Drano.
Hot Fuzz (2007) * * * *
Simon Pegg is a humourless by-the-book policeman who is reassigned to a seemingly peaceful hamlet as 'punishment' for making his colleagues look bad. Lots of fun cameos from character actors in classic horror films like The Omen and The Wicker Man.
Parents (1989) * * *
In the bland conformist 50's, Randy Quaid is Dad, a bland, sinister patriarch in a family who only wants to take care of his family and raise his little boy to be Just Like Him. And just what does Daddy do at the plant?
Raising Arizona (1987) * * * *
Another early hit from those wascally Coen Brothers: A chronic criminal (dumb but lovable Nicolas Cage) and the tough cop he marries (a fiercely baby-crazed Holly Hunter) are unable to have children - so they steal one. This is like Bonnie and Clyde crossed with a Warner Bros. cartoon.
Serial Mom (1994) * * *
Kathleen Turner is a sweet old-fashioned mom who's fiercely, murderously protective of her family and her warped sense of right and wrong.
Shaun of the Dead (2004) * * *
This British gem launched Simon Pegg into stardom. He's a guy with parent and girlfriend issues, plus he has to deal with a zombie uprising.
To Die For (1995) * * *
A vapid, narcissistic weather girl (Nicole Kidman) decides that her dull hubby is an obstacle to her career. So she enlists a trio of high school outcasts to get rid of him. Sharply skewers television, fame, and the media.
Very Bad Things (1998) * * *
A bachelor party goes horribly wrong when a stripper/hooker is accidentally killed and the guys have to scramble to hide the body.
The War of the Roses (1989) * * * 1/2
Danny DeVito, Michael Douglas, and Kathleen Turner join forces in this poisonous valentine about a divorcing couple who go to extreme measures to possess the house.
Young Adult (2011) * * * 1/2
Don't get me wrong. I'm as horrified as anyone else about real-life evils such as war, abuse, terrorism, and death. I like to think I'm a good person. I don't really want to hurt anyone. Real-life violence is not acceptable, ever. But being human, I do get angry, and need an outlet so I can smile at people who piss me off and avoid prison.
But... if you're anything like me, you also want to be assured of love and decency in the world, that good people do exist and the exceptional ones will step up and be heroes, like Harriet Tubman, those who gave sanctuary to prosecuted Jews during WWII, firefighters who risk their lives to save others, etc. You know, the real heroes. You want to believe that the bad guys will be punished as they should be in real life. You want to be the New Sheriff in Town, and smite evil in the messiest, more satisfying way possible. Or maybe you want to play Bad Hat for a couple of hours, and rip into the dillholes who make miserable for others, or even boring characters who represent their real-life counterparts in your life and drag you down. Perhaps you watch horror movies and black comedies in order to calm your fears and cope with the real monsters. Whatever it is, you're not a bad person. It's your coping mechanism, that's all. At least, I hope so.
One of my favourite sayings is this: I know how to be evil... I just choose not to be.
Sooooo....
You will hate these films if:
... you just want to be diverted for a couple of hours, but dislike conflicts more complicated than cute misunderstandings and pratfalls.
... you prefer light, non-threatening stories with "America's Sweetheart"-type actresses like Julia Roberts, Meg Ryan or Sandra Bullock as a bland, generically pretty heroine who somehow finds Twu Wuv with an equally bland, generically handsome hero.
... you think movie violence in Bugs Bunny cartoons is just awful. They were right to cut the scenes of Daffy Duck blowing his beak in twenty different directions. And Tom and Jerry should learn to co-exist. And share. And discuss their differences until they alienate their bloodthirsty fans.
These might be too much for the timid or the staunchly virtuous. If you're like Barbara Bush and don't want to waste your beautiful mind, that's your right. I still love you. We just can't go to the movies together, that's all. But if you're willing to look in a dark mirror, you may find some kindred spirits here.
American Psycho (2000) * * * 1/2
Former child actor and future Dark Knight Christian Slater shot to stardom with this nihilistic stab at 80's consumerism. This is about as far into a psychopath's head as you want to go.
Bad Santa (2003) * * *
Billy Bob Thornton won't just give you coal, he'll make you eat it.
Barton Fink (1991) * * * 1/2
The Coen Brothers knock the smugness out of a conceited playwright and that''s just the beginning of this Faustian tale.
Fido (2006) * * *
In this bizarro universe, zombies are not killed, they're programmed to serve the living. Carrie-Anne Moss is adorable as a chipper 50's mom who takes a shine to "Fido", a mild-mannered zombie.
Grosse Pointe Blank (1997) * * *
A hitman (John Cusack) decides to attend his 20th high school reunion.
The Hangover (2009) * * * 1/2
Crude but hilarious road movie about a quartet of guys who go to Las Vegas for their buddy's bachelor party. A few drinks later, they wake up in their hotel room in chaos (including a man-eating tiger in the bathroom!) and the groom-to-be missing.
Heathers (1989) * * * 1/2
Wynona Ryder and Christian Slater wreak havoc upon cliques and high school hierarchy. This is Mean Girls with a shot of Drano.
Hot Fuzz (2007) * * * *
Simon Pegg is a humourless by-the-book policeman who is reassigned to a seemingly peaceful hamlet as 'punishment' for making his colleagues look bad. Lots of fun cameos from character actors in classic horror films like The Omen and The Wicker Man.
Parents (1989) * * *
In the bland conformist 50's, Randy Quaid is Dad, a bland, sinister patriarch in a family who only wants to take care of his family and raise his little boy to be Just Like Him. And just what does Daddy do at the plant?
Raising Arizona (1987) * * * *
Another early hit from those wascally Coen Brothers: A chronic criminal (dumb but lovable Nicolas Cage) and the tough cop he marries (a fiercely baby-crazed Holly Hunter) are unable to have children - so they steal one. This is like Bonnie and Clyde crossed with a Warner Bros. cartoon.
Serial Mom (1994) * * *
Kathleen Turner is a sweet old-fashioned mom who's fiercely, murderously protective of her family and her warped sense of right and wrong.
Shaun of the Dead (2004) * * *
This British gem launched Simon Pegg into stardom. He's a guy with parent and girlfriend issues, plus he has to deal with a zombie uprising.
To Die For (1995) * * *
A vapid, narcissistic weather girl (Nicole Kidman) decides that her dull hubby is an obstacle to her career. So she enlists a trio of high school outcasts to get rid of him. Sharply skewers television, fame, and the media.
Very Bad Things (1998) * * *
A bachelor party goes horribly wrong when a stripper/hooker is accidentally killed and the guys have to scramble to hide the body.
The War of the Roses (1989) * * * 1/2
Danny DeVito, Michael Douglas, and Kathleen Turner join forces in this poisonous valentine about a divorcing couple who go to extreme measures to possess the house.
Young Adult (2011) * * * 1/2
June 22, 2009
THE HANGOVER (2009)
* * * 1/2
R. C-100m. USA.
D: Todd Phillips. Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zach Galifianakis, Justin Bartha, Heather Graham
Tagline: Some guys just can't handle Vegas.
Two days before their buddy's wedding, four guys drive to Las Vegas for a bachelor party, check into an expensive hotel suite, and set out to go drinking and gambling. Several hours later, three of them wake up to find their room completely trashed with a wandering chicken, a tiger in the bathroom, a baby in the closet, a hospital bracelet, a diamond belly-button stud, a missing tooth, and absolutely no memory of how they got into this situation.
Doug (Justin Bartha), the groom is missing, forcing his best friends Phil (Bradley Cooper), Stu (Ed Helms), and future brother-in-law Alan (Zach Galifianakis) to retrace their steps and find him before the wedding. Doug is more of a catalyst than a character, and is fairly nondescript. Actually, he's hardly in the movie; even the baby (who has a gnomish cuteness) gets more screen time than he does. Prospective father-in-law Sid (Jeffrey Tambor from It's Gary Shandling's Show!) lends him his prized silver Mercedes with a wink and a promise that "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas". He also makes Doug swear that he will be the only one to drive it, much to the others' chagrin.
Phil, good-looking and confident, is a teacher, married with a kid and itching for some excitement. He's so bored with his suburban existence that he thinks nothing of stealing funds for the students' field trip to fund the bachelor party, and constantly warns Doug that once he's married, all he'll look forward to is dying a little each day. But despite his cynicism, you sense that he is genuinely concerned, especially when Stu reverently takes his grandmother's ring out of his pocket (that she had worn in the Holocaust) and announces his plans to propose to his girlfriend after the wedding. Phil mutters, "I think you're making a big mistake." His hooded eyes and sudden silence afterward show that this warning isn't just another variation of teasing his buddy about losing his freedom to The Joys of Married Life.
Stu, a repressed dentist, is terrorized and dominated by his abusive girlfriend Melissa (Rachael Harris), and so cowed that he promises to answer his cellphone whenever she calls. He even lies that the bachelor party will take place in wine country, and that the guys will be staying in a quaint little bed-and-breakfast inn. We can’t blame Stu, whose conservatism threatens to snap along with him, because even if he was forthright, Melissa would have definitely forbade him to go to Vegas. She is a fingernail short of declaring, “You’ve lost all your Nevada privileges!”
It gets worse. Stu makes excuses for her cheating on him on a cruise with a bartender ("She was wasted."), and beating him ("To be fair, I was out of line."). She grimly plays on his insecurities in order to ensure her dominance, constantly keeping him off-balance, like coldly pulling away when he tries to kiss her cheek. I hated this woman - it's a credit to Harris's delivery that she makes Melissa such a toxic, verbally abusive bully, yet a caricature in sync with this comically vicious world. I couldn't figure out why these two were together, unless she'd clubbed and dragged his nerdy carcass to her lair. This witch is so vile that she could’ve sucked a guy's soul through a straw.
In contrast, Heather Graham brings a sweet sexiness and warmth to her role as Jade, a good-natured stripper/hooker who accidentally marries Stu. His rigid, fearful nature likely arrested his social development and attracted Melissa, who no doubt smelled chum in the water. He is initially unable to accept the possibility that he might actually be happy with Jade, despite her profession. I just wanted to say, "Dude, loosen up!" and feed him a few bottles of laxatives.
But compared to the other females in the movie, she's the embodiment of that impossible ideal: The Perfect Woman. You know, sweet, caring, uncomplicated, and hot. She does a topless scene, but it's hardly erotic. In fact, it will likely make a lot of people cringe.
The last member of the group is Alan, a tubby, socially backward schlub who is somehow very sympathetic. He's so desperate to belong and have 'a wolf pack' that he writes a speech about it in a toast. There's something off-putting, yet sweet about him. Understandably, the guys don't particularly want him around, though Doug tolerates him, since they'll be brothers-in-law soon. You just know this guy was bombarded with dodgeballs of one kind or another all his life. Thanks to Galifianakis' deft delivery, his potentially creepy man-child character becomes the heart of the gang... and the movie. He's so sincere that you just want to rip up that pesky ol' restraining order and invite him to join the fun.
Here is an example of his innate decency: When Stu wails, "I lost a tooth! I married a whore!", Alan is genuinely offended on her behalf. "How dare you! She's a nice lady!"
He has the best lines, which I won't reveal here because a) they're mostly tasteless and b) they're way funnier coming from Alan than me. Except this one:
Stu: She's wearing my grandmother's ring! The one that she had from the Holocaust!
Alan: I didn't know they gave out rings at the Holocaust.
When he says this, he is not being sarcastic or disrespectful; Stu had shown the other two the ring earlier, before Alan had joined them, so he doesn't know about it until after Stu spots the ring on Jade's finger when they stop by her motel room. This is the first time the ring was mentioned in his presence, and he is honestly surprised that Stu's grandma had gotten a "souvenir".
I predict a successful career for him. He's sort of a sweeter version of Seth Rogen, and like Rogen, steals every scene he's in.
I don't usually like low-brow comedies unless it's 2:30 am and I'm so tired I'll laugh at anything, but this is much better than the limitations of this genre usually allows. Ed Helms, a longtime character actor who gets secondary roles, shines in his first time carrying a comedy. He has also found a niche for his real missing tooth. If you liked Wedding Crashers, Knocked Up, Forgetting Sarah Marshall or The 40-Year-Old Virgin, The Hangover is a good bet. Obviously, this is not for children or the easily offended. It's a crude comedy, but redeems itself by actually being funny. In less capable hands, this would have turned into a bad frat boy fiasco. Unlike comedies of this sort, it's not so much mean-spirited as cheerfully hedonistic. And the real love story is the one between the guys who learn to value each other, no matter how stupid or disgusting they are. It's about celebrating those crazy friendships that some people are lucky enough to have - the stuff of fond memories. The girls back home, however, just don’t wanna have fun.
As one character declares, "This is what guys do."
R. C-100m. USA.
D: Todd Phillips. Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zach Galifianakis, Justin Bartha, Heather Graham
Tagline: Some guys just can't handle Vegas.
Two days before their buddy's wedding, four guys drive to Las Vegas for a bachelor party, check into an expensive hotel suite, and set out to go drinking and gambling. Several hours later, three of them wake up to find their room completely trashed with a wandering chicken, a tiger in the bathroom, a baby in the closet, a hospital bracelet, a diamond belly-button stud, a missing tooth, and absolutely no memory of how they got into this situation.
Doug (Justin Bartha), the groom is missing, forcing his best friends Phil (Bradley Cooper), Stu (Ed Helms), and future brother-in-law Alan (Zach Galifianakis) to retrace their steps and find him before the wedding. Doug is more of a catalyst than a character, and is fairly nondescript. Actually, he's hardly in the movie; even the baby (who has a gnomish cuteness) gets more screen time than he does. Prospective father-in-law Sid (Jeffrey Tambor from It's Gary Shandling's Show!) lends him his prized silver Mercedes with a wink and a promise that "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas". He also makes Doug swear that he will be the only one to drive it, much to the others' chagrin.
Phil, good-looking and confident, is a teacher, married with a kid and itching for some excitement. He's so bored with his suburban existence that he thinks nothing of stealing funds for the students' field trip to fund the bachelor party, and constantly warns Doug that once he's married, all he'll look forward to is dying a little each day. But despite his cynicism, you sense that he is genuinely concerned, especially when Stu reverently takes his grandmother's ring out of his pocket (that she had worn in the Holocaust) and announces his plans to propose to his girlfriend after the wedding. Phil mutters, "I think you're making a big mistake." His hooded eyes and sudden silence afterward show that this warning isn't just another variation of teasing his buddy about losing his freedom to The Joys of Married Life.
Stu, a repressed dentist, is terrorized and dominated by his abusive girlfriend Melissa (Rachael Harris), and so cowed that he promises to answer his cellphone whenever she calls. He even lies that the bachelor party will take place in wine country, and that the guys will be staying in a quaint little bed-and-breakfast inn. We can’t blame Stu, whose conservatism threatens to snap along with him, because even if he was forthright, Melissa would have definitely forbade him to go to Vegas. She is a fingernail short of declaring, “You’ve lost all your Nevada privileges!”
It gets worse. Stu makes excuses for her cheating on him on a cruise with a bartender ("She was wasted."), and beating him ("To be fair, I was out of line."). She grimly plays on his insecurities in order to ensure her dominance, constantly keeping him off-balance, like coldly pulling away when he tries to kiss her cheek. I hated this woman - it's a credit to Harris's delivery that she makes Melissa such a toxic, verbally abusive bully, yet a caricature in sync with this comically vicious world. I couldn't figure out why these two were together, unless she'd clubbed and dragged his nerdy carcass to her lair. This witch is so vile that she could’ve sucked a guy's soul through a straw.
In contrast, Heather Graham brings a sweet sexiness and warmth to her role as Jade, a good-natured stripper/hooker who accidentally marries Stu. His rigid, fearful nature likely arrested his social development and attracted Melissa, who no doubt smelled chum in the water. He is initially unable to accept the possibility that he might actually be happy with Jade, despite her profession. I just wanted to say, "Dude, loosen up!" and feed him a few bottles of laxatives.
But compared to the other females in the movie, she's the embodiment of that impossible ideal: The Perfect Woman. You know, sweet, caring, uncomplicated, and hot. She does a topless scene, but it's hardly erotic. In fact, it will likely make a lot of people cringe.
The last member of the group is Alan, a tubby, socially backward schlub who is somehow very sympathetic. He's so desperate to belong and have 'a wolf pack' that he writes a speech about it in a toast. There's something off-putting, yet sweet about him. Understandably, the guys don't particularly want him around, though Doug tolerates him, since they'll be brothers-in-law soon. You just know this guy was bombarded with dodgeballs of one kind or another all his life. Thanks to Galifianakis' deft delivery, his potentially creepy man-child character becomes the heart of the gang... and the movie. He's so sincere that you just want to rip up that pesky ol' restraining order and invite him to join the fun.
Here is an example of his innate decency: When Stu wails, "I lost a tooth! I married a whore!", Alan is genuinely offended on her behalf. "How dare you! She's a nice lady!"
He has the best lines, which I won't reveal here because a) they're mostly tasteless and b) they're way funnier coming from Alan than me. Except this one:
Stu: She's wearing my grandmother's ring! The one that she had from the Holocaust!
Alan: I didn't know they gave out rings at the Holocaust.
When he says this, he is not being sarcastic or disrespectful; Stu had shown the other two the ring earlier, before Alan had joined them, so he doesn't know about it until after Stu spots the ring on Jade's finger when they stop by her motel room. This is the first time the ring was mentioned in his presence, and he is honestly surprised that Stu's grandma had gotten a "souvenir".
I predict a successful career for him. He's sort of a sweeter version of Seth Rogen, and like Rogen, steals every scene he's in.
I don't usually like low-brow comedies unless it's 2:30 am and I'm so tired I'll laugh at anything, but this is much better than the limitations of this genre usually allows. Ed Helms, a longtime character actor who gets secondary roles, shines in his first time carrying a comedy. He has also found a niche for his real missing tooth. If you liked Wedding Crashers, Knocked Up, Forgetting Sarah Marshall or The 40-Year-Old Virgin, The Hangover is a good bet. Obviously, this is not for children or the easily offended. It's a crude comedy, but redeems itself by actually being funny. In less capable hands, this would have turned into a bad frat boy fiasco. Unlike comedies of this sort, it's not so much mean-spirited as cheerfully hedonistic. And the real love story is the one between the guys who learn to value each other, no matter how stupid or disgusting they are. It's about celebrating those crazy friendships that some people are lucky enough to have - the stuff of fond memories. The girls back home, however, just don’t wanna have fun.
As one character declares, "This is what guys do."
June 16, 2009
DUEL IN THE SUN (1946)
* * *
PG C-129m and 144m (roadshow version). USA
D: David O. Selznick
Jennifer Jones, Gregory Peck, Joseph Cotten, Lionel Barrymore, Lillian Gish, Butterfly McQueen, Walter Huston, Charles Bickford
Tagline: Emotions... As Violent As The Wind-Swept Prairie!
At the time of its release, Duel in the Sun was nicknamed "Lust in the Dust". It could have been called "Twin Peaks", given the attention to the leading lady’s constant heaving bosom! This 1946 David O. Selznick picture is a western soap about how ill-fated passion consumes a beautiful 'half-breed' and a brutish outlaw. That pretty much sums up the plot. It's campy fun for classic movie fans, but also sets itself up for ridicule. The dialogue is ripe with howlers. The standouts are deathbed scene (when the dying character actually crawls out of bed to comfort another) and the final shootout.
This belongs with the best of the 'so-bad-it's-good' movies. Far from boring, it's bigger than life, albeit silly and pretentious. In the right frame of mind, you can have a good time with this. If this film had been made today – heaven forbid – the results would be less than bearable. Try to imagine, instead of Gregory Peck and Jennifer Jones, we had George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez, reunited after Sodenbergh’s Out of Sight (1998). Better yet, imagine George Clooney groping Jennifer Love Hewitt playing a Mexican for a thoroughly faithful remake. The star power gives Duel in the Sun a boost. These are terrific actors (with the exception of the lovely but dramatically-challenged Jennifer Jones) trapped in a bad movie.
Jennifer Jones plays Pearl Chavez, a fiery young girl of sweet sixteen who is orphaned after her aristocratic father is hung for the murder of her Cherokee mother and her gambler lover. Pearl is sent to live as the ward of her father’s old love, Laura Belle (Lillian Gish, giving her usual long-suffering performance), who is now married to bigoted senator Jackson McCanles (Lionel Barrymore). Their two grown sons are good guy Jesse (Joseph Cotten) and bad boy Lewt (Gregory Peck).
The girl harbours a girlish crush on gentle Jesse but Lewt decides he wants her. In fact, all men sniff around the poor girl, even her own father Look at the way he strokes her hair before playing hangman. He comes so close to whispering, “You smell like your mother!”
After catching Pearl lying about swimming with Lewt, Laura Belle summons a traveling preacher dubbed ‘The Sin Killer’ to cure her wild ward. Cripes. The woman is so condescending that it's ridiculous that she was supposed to be one of the 'good' characters! I hated her guts, especially in her scenes with Butterfly McQueen.
Pearl is dragged from her bed wearing nothing but a blanket to be exorcised. The ‘blessing’ is as follows:
Sin Killer: Pearl? You can be a woman of sin or a woman of God. Which is it to be?
Pearl: I want to be a good girl.
Sin Killer: And remember that the devil is always aimin' to hog-tie ya. Sometimes he comes ghostin' over the plains in the shape of a sneakin' rustler. And sometimes, beggin' your pardon Laura Belle, he stakes out the homes of the worthy and the god-fearin'. Pearl, you're curved in the flesh of temptation. Resistance is gonna be a darn sight harder for you than for females protected by the shape of sows. Yes siree, bob. You gotta sweeten yourself with prayer. Pray till you sweat, and you'll save yourself from eternal hell-fire. You understand me girl?
Pearl: Yes sir.
He gives her a medallion that promises to keep her ‘sweet and clean as the first milk’. When confronting her at the swimming hole the next day, Lewt throws it into the weeds, sneering, “I don’t want no milkmaid!”
Poor Pearl. Not only does she suffer racial slurs and sexual harassment, but she is patronized by everyone except the one person who could have given her the happiest of endings - a way out. Every time she reaches happiness and respectability (read: not Lewt's ho), something knocks her down and keeps her there. She's destined to be her mother's daughter right to the end. But Lewt is going to Hell and taking Pearl with him.
Selznick had obviously hoped to re-create the success of his 1939 classic, Gone with the Wind. The scenery, especially certain shots of the house will remind viewers of Tara. The character of good brother Jesse is just another reincarnation of Ashley. Pearl even throws a hissy fit and runs from the house. Just like Scarlett did after she finds out that Ashley Wilkes is engaged to Melanie. He even casts GWTW alumni Butterfly McQueen to play her usual dumber-than-a-bag-of-hair post-war slave - er...servant girl. This is a white man's 1880’s Texas, after all.
Oh, Davy! You just couldn't let go and make something new, could you? Sounds like someone you know, eh... Mr. Lucas?
This was anything but romantic to me. Lewt is handsome but spoiled, with a dangerous sense of entitlement. In his mind, everything on the land belongs to him, including Pearl. In the tradition of buttholes everywhere, he dismisses the idea of marrying a 'bobtail half-breed' because he fears for his reputation and the wrath of his racist father. Still, that doesn’t mean that she shouldn’t save herself for booty calls. At one point, he tells her menacingly, "Anyone who was my girl is still my girl." He must keep them all in a basement somewhere.
Despite the fact that she carries a torch for the noble (read: stuffy) Jesse, she is fatally attracted to a man who shares her lustful appetites. She knows he’s no good, but... She Just Can’t Help Herself! With insulting glibness, the movie hints and hammers that Pearl's ‘half-breed’ nature is to blame for her raging libido. Like mother, like daughter. Oh my. How deep.
One of the locals warns other men away from her, and declares, "No one marries Pearl Chavez until Lewt McCanles decides to give away the bride." How is that romantic? And when a woman in the movies has to choose between two men, why is the boring guy always the good one and the sexy one always a dangerous bully?
Part of the problem is miscasting Jennifer Jones, who was the lover and future wife of David O. Selznick at the time, so the casting couch can be blamed for this one. She constantly mugs for the camera. The most annoying mannerism of all was the way she averted her eyes. She never looks anyone in the eye. Ever! Her eyes are so pale against the dark face paint that she looks possessed. She reminds me of that creepy poster for The Eyes of Laura Mars (1978) (http://www.impawards.com/1978/eyes_of_laura_mars.html).
All that face and arm paint doesn’t hold up well under sweat. Near the end, after climbing sharp rocks and fighting for her life, she looks positively orange. In fact, you can have a drinking game and take a slug every time she a) tosses her hair, b) flashes her teeth, or c) sobs, rolling orgasmically on her bed.
The film has no nudity, but there's no doubt what goes on behind closed doors. See, that's what thunder and lightning are for! Or fireworks! I'm actually surprised Selznick didn't add a porthole or train tunnel shot somewhere. His work here is about as subtle as a combover.
Don't get me wrong. I love Gregory Peck, but his best performances were in quiet, heroic roles, such as Atticus Finch in 1962's To Kill a Mockingbird and Captain James McKay in 1958's The Big Country. He just isn't believable as the bad boy. He looks the part, and is especially yummy in spurs - I have a weakness for cowboys - as well as gladiators and pirates. Pardon me while I go fan myself. Ahem. He looks great until he opens his mouth and words come out.
Peck is woefully miscast as a southerner here, but he got it right in 'Mockingbird'. He has charisma and presence, but there's something off. It's like watching Atticus Finch try to play Stanley Kawalski. I admit I did burst out laughing when he started singing, “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” after causing a train wreck. Ghoulish, but funny.
Don't worry about how long the movie is because much of the feature is padded out by an introductory overture and an intermission. Without those two interruptions, the film is a few minutes over two hours. Just hit 'fast-forward' during these parts and you'll be fine. After twelve minutes of the overture – yep, twelve long, agonizing minutes of listening to an overblown orchestra while staring at the profile of Squaw’s Head Rock against a blazing sunset, our narrator Orson Welles finally tells us the story of the doomed lovers.
When we watched the DVD, my movie aficionado brother – a tyrannical purist who would rather challenge than comfort those around him - insisted that we experience the movie "properly", despite the fact that Mom and I begged for mercy. Nothing doing. With only three more minutes to go, we came to an understanding when I threatened to make him watch The Lost Boys with his eyes forced open - ala Clockwork Orange. But never fear – he will pay... (twirls imaginary mustache) Yes, imaginary!
One unintentionally humourous moment to note is when Laura Belle looks at a photo of her sons as children. A crude arrow is scrawled under one kid, with "Lewt" printed underneath it. The filmmakers did that was for our benefit - wasn't that kind? Or maybe the woman can't tell which kid is which without her notes.
These actors have done much better work in their lifetimes - be sure and seek them out. They give it their all, but even these Hollywood giants can’t elevate this train wreck. Lionel Barrymore, in particular, has wicked fun doing a hammy impression of his Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, again with a wheelchair. I used to wonder if he could walk in real life. It's pure camp, and certainly not the epic it promises to be.
I recently bought the DVD without seeing the movie first, which wasn't a losing hand but not much of a jackpot. Luckily, Mom loves old westerns too, so it found a good home.
PG C-129m and 144m (roadshow version). USA
D: David O. Selznick
Jennifer Jones, Gregory Peck, Joseph Cotten, Lionel Barrymore, Lillian Gish, Butterfly McQueen, Walter Huston, Charles Bickford
Tagline: Emotions... As Violent As The Wind-Swept Prairie!
At the time of its release, Duel in the Sun was nicknamed "Lust in the Dust". It could have been called "Twin Peaks", given the attention to the leading lady’s constant heaving bosom! This 1946 David O. Selznick picture is a western soap about how ill-fated passion consumes a beautiful 'half-breed' and a brutish outlaw. That pretty much sums up the plot. It's campy fun for classic movie fans, but also sets itself up for ridicule. The dialogue is ripe with howlers. The standouts are deathbed scene (when the dying character actually crawls out of bed to comfort another) and the final shootout.
This belongs with the best of the 'so-bad-it's-good' movies. Far from boring, it's bigger than life, albeit silly and pretentious. In the right frame of mind, you can have a good time with this. If this film had been made today – heaven forbid – the results would be less than bearable. Try to imagine, instead of Gregory Peck and Jennifer Jones, we had George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez, reunited after Sodenbergh’s Out of Sight (1998). Better yet, imagine George Clooney groping Jennifer Love Hewitt playing a Mexican for a thoroughly faithful remake. The star power gives Duel in the Sun a boost. These are terrific actors (with the exception of the lovely but dramatically-challenged Jennifer Jones) trapped in a bad movie.
Jennifer Jones plays Pearl Chavez, a fiery young girl of sweet sixteen who is orphaned after her aristocratic father is hung for the murder of her Cherokee mother and her gambler lover. Pearl is sent to live as the ward of her father’s old love, Laura Belle (Lillian Gish, giving her usual long-suffering performance), who is now married to bigoted senator Jackson McCanles (Lionel Barrymore). Their two grown sons are good guy Jesse (Joseph Cotten) and bad boy Lewt (Gregory Peck).
The girl harbours a girlish crush on gentle Jesse but Lewt decides he wants her. In fact, all men sniff around the poor girl, even her own father Look at the way he strokes her hair before playing hangman. He comes so close to whispering, “You smell like your mother!”
After catching Pearl lying about swimming with Lewt, Laura Belle summons a traveling preacher dubbed ‘The Sin Killer’ to cure her wild ward. Cripes. The woman is so condescending that it's ridiculous that she was supposed to be one of the 'good' characters! I hated her guts, especially in her scenes with Butterfly McQueen.
Pearl is dragged from her bed wearing nothing but a blanket to be exorcised. The ‘blessing’ is as follows:
Sin Killer: Pearl? You can be a woman of sin or a woman of God. Which is it to be?
Pearl: I want to be a good girl.
Sin Killer: And remember that the devil is always aimin' to hog-tie ya. Sometimes he comes ghostin' over the plains in the shape of a sneakin' rustler. And sometimes, beggin' your pardon Laura Belle, he stakes out the homes of the worthy and the god-fearin'. Pearl, you're curved in the flesh of temptation. Resistance is gonna be a darn sight harder for you than for females protected by the shape of sows. Yes siree, bob. You gotta sweeten yourself with prayer. Pray till you sweat, and you'll save yourself from eternal hell-fire. You understand me girl?
Pearl: Yes sir.
He gives her a medallion that promises to keep her ‘sweet and clean as the first milk’. When confronting her at the swimming hole the next day, Lewt throws it into the weeds, sneering, “I don’t want no milkmaid!”
Poor Pearl. Not only does she suffer racial slurs and sexual harassment, but she is patronized by everyone except the one person who could have given her the happiest of endings - a way out. Every time she reaches happiness and respectability (read: not Lewt's ho), something knocks her down and keeps her there. She's destined to be her mother's daughter right to the end. But Lewt is going to Hell and taking Pearl with him.
Selznick had obviously hoped to re-create the success of his 1939 classic, Gone with the Wind. The scenery, especially certain shots of the house will remind viewers of Tara. The character of good brother Jesse is just another reincarnation of Ashley. Pearl even throws a hissy fit and runs from the house. Just like Scarlett did after she finds out that Ashley Wilkes is engaged to Melanie. He even casts GWTW alumni Butterfly McQueen to play her usual dumber-than-a-bag-of-hair post-war slave - er...servant girl. This is a white man's 1880’s Texas, after all.
Oh, Davy! You just couldn't let go and make something new, could you? Sounds like someone you know, eh... Mr. Lucas?
This was anything but romantic to me. Lewt is handsome but spoiled, with a dangerous sense of entitlement. In his mind, everything on the land belongs to him, including Pearl. In the tradition of buttholes everywhere, he dismisses the idea of marrying a 'bobtail half-breed' because he fears for his reputation and the wrath of his racist father. Still, that doesn’t mean that she shouldn’t save herself for booty calls. At one point, he tells her menacingly, "Anyone who was my girl is still my girl." He must keep them all in a basement somewhere.
Despite the fact that she carries a torch for the noble (read: stuffy) Jesse, she is fatally attracted to a man who shares her lustful appetites. She knows he’s no good, but... She Just Can’t Help Herself! With insulting glibness, the movie hints and hammers that Pearl's ‘half-breed’ nature is to blame for her raging libido. Like mother, like daughter. Oh my. How deep.
One of the locals warns other men away from her, and declares, "No one marries Pearl Chavez until Lewt McCanles decides to give away the bride." How is that romantic? And when a woman in the movies has to choose between two men, why is the boring guy always the good one and the sexy one always a dangerous bully?
Part of the problem is miscasting Jennifer Jones, who was the lover and future wife of David O. Selznick at the time, so the casting couch can be blamed for this one. She constantly mugs for the camera. The most annoying mannerism of all was the way she averted her eyes. She never looks anyone in the eye. Ever! Her eyes are so pale against the dark face paint that she looks possessed. She reminds me of that creepy poster for The Eyes of Laura Mars (1978) (http://www.impawards.com/1978/eyes_of_laura_mars.html).
All that face and arm paint doesn’t hold up well under sweat. Near the end, after climbing sharp rocks and fighting for her life, she looks positively orange. In fact, you can have a drinking game and take a slug every time she a) tosses her hair, b) flashes her teeth, or c) sobs, rolling orgasmically on her bed.
The film has no nudity, but there's no doubt what goes on behind closed doors. See, that's what thunder and lightning are for! Or fireworks! I'm actually surprised Selznick didn't add a porthole or train tunnel shot somewhere. His work here is about as subtle as a combover.
Don't get me wrong. I love Gregory Peck, but his best performances were in quiet, heroic roles, such as Atticus Finch in 1962's To Kill a Mockingbird and Captain James McKay in 1958's The Big Country. He just isn't believable as the bad boy. He looks the part, and is especially yummy in spurs - I have a weakness for cowboys - as well as gladiators and pirates. Pardon me while I go fan myself. Ahem. He looks great until he opens his mouth and words come out.
Peck is woefully miscast as a southerner here, but he got it right in 'Mockingbird'. He has charisma and presence, but there's something off. It's like watching Atticus Finch try to play Stanley Kawalski. I admit I did burst out laughing when he started singing, “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” after causing a train wreck. Ghoulish, but funny.
Don't worry about how long the movie is because much of the feature is padded out by an introductory overture and an intermission. Without those two interruptions, the film is a few minutes over two hours. Just hit 'fast-forward' during these parts and you'll be fine. After twelve minutes of the overture – yep, twelve long, agonizing minutes of listening to an overblown orchestra while staring at the profile of Squaw’s Head Rock against a blazing sunset, our narrator Orson Welles finally tells us the story of the doomed lovers.
When we watched the DVD, my movie aficionado brother – a tyrannical purist who would rather challenge than comfort those around him - insisted that we experience the movie "properly", despite the fact that Mom and I begged for mercy. Nothing doing. With only three more minutes to go, we came to an understanding when I threatened to make him watch The Lost Boys with his eyes forced open - ala Clockwork Orange. But never fear – he will pay... (twirls imaginary mustache) Yes, imaginary!
One unintentionally humourous moment to note is when Laura Belle looks at a photo of her sons as children. A crude arrow is scrawled under one kid, with "Lewt" printed underneath it. The filmmakers did that was for our benefit - wasn't that kind? Or maybe the woman can't tell which kid is which without her notes.
These actors have done much better work in their lifetimes - be sure and seek them out. They give it their all, but even these Hollywood giants can’t elevate this train wreck. Lionel Barrymore, in particular, has wicked fun doing a hammy impression of his Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, again with a wheelchair. I used to wonder if he could walk in real life. It's pure camp, and certainly not the epic it promises to be.
I recently bought the DVD without seeing the movie first, which wasn't a losing hand but not much of a jackpot. Luckily, Mom loves old westerns too, so it found a good home.
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