Stay Cinematically Healthy by Avoiding Salt in Your Diet

Angelina Jolie: Spreading goodwill (for UNHCR) and taking names...

Well that didn't take long, did it? Or maybe it was just a dream. Only a week after moviegoers were treated to Inception's intelligent and original story (albeit maybe it not quite as intelligent as advertised), it's time for us to bracingly wake up to reality. Or, depending on if the totem is spinning, accept that this is "limbo". Wherever we are, it's a dreadfully dull place, where movies like Salt deliver a steady stream of mind-numbing clichés and altogether stupid plots. This puffy spy thriller is a particularly brainless affair: half-Bond, half-Bourne, half-baked, and, mercifully, half an hour shorter than expected, when it doesn't end but simply stops mid-scene.

Originally produced as a star vehicle for Tom Cruise before he dropped out for what can only be assumed was the disastrous Knight and Day, Salt was rewritten for Angelina Jolie (the "best woman in the world" who, we should remember, "dies for our sins"), who predictably signed on to play yet another sexy assassin. The change in gender of our anti-hero is perfectly appropriate for the purpose of the story, but that doesn't excuse the eye-rolling flourishes of Jolie making kissy faces and tiger scowls during hand-to-hand combat, or inexplicably removing her panties and using them to shroud a security camera.

300 Words About: Green Zone

"Look, man, we had to know this would flop after DiCaprio couldn't even carry Body of Lies. At least we got paid up front, right?"

Green Zone is like Glenn Beck, or Keith Olbermann, or even Jon Stewart. It's incredibly loud, incredibly loose-tongued, and incredibly lacking in moderation or nuance of any kind. Incredibly, Universal Pictures wagered $100+ million that cash-strapped audiences would want to see cable news-styled hysterics within the context of one of the most unpopular film genres of our time: the Iraq War movie (remember that The Hurt Locker is the lowest-grossing Best Picture winner in history).

Granted, Universal did have the "Bourne in Baghdad" angle to lure audiences (how has no one made a mash-up trailer yet?), and Paul Greengrass previously directed United 93, one of the best films of the last decade. But as much as Green Zone had on its side in terms of star power, nothing can make up for an extremely dated and painfully retread screenplay by Brian Helgeland - one that overflows with Big Grand Statements, both said and unsaid by its caricatures.

I figured something was wrong when Universal kept pushing the release date for Green Zone later and later (eventually past the 12/31/09 Oscar eligibility deadline), but wow, I haven't been this disappointed since about 10 minutes ago, when I saw that Brian Helgeland also wrote the upcoming Robin Hood reboot starring Russell Crowe.

Sacked from The Blind Side, Forcing a Fumble

Hmm, it's not my eyes playing tricks on me - that is a Best Picture nomination... 

I've made the joke before that the best part of some bad movies is when the end credits begin scrolling, representing the end of the torturous affair. While this was certainly true for The Blind Side, what made matters much worse was the fact that the end credits went on to suggest what the movie should have been in the first place: a documentary. I actually became emotional viewing the photos of Michael Oher's real-life family because I finally experienced the true weight of the story. It was not the heavy-handed afterschool special it resembled during the whole running time, but actually someone's life - and it deserved a much better treatment.

REVIEW: The Lovely Bones (C)

Exactly what is it about rape, kidnapping and murder that appeals so much to Americans - or at least to the Americans who tune in each week to watch "CSI" (all three versions), "Criminal Minds", "Without a Trace", "Cold Case", "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit", and "Bones"? That there are so many of these shows should tell you how popular this genre is; that I've never seen an episode of any of them should tell you how disturbed I am by that trend.

Anyway, I don't want to make generalizations about the viewers of these shows any more than I do about the millions of enthusiastic readers of Alice Sebold's celebrated novel, "The Lovely Bones", but suffice to say I don't belong to either group. If you do, you'll likely appreciate Peter Jackson's The Lovely Bones much more than me, and you may even glean some meaningful insights from the melodramatic depths of what I considered a whole lot of sentimental muck.

300 Words About: New York, I Love You

"Listen, Hayden, let me tell you a little something about being boring on screen"...

Easily one of the most disappointing films of 2009, New York, I Love You makes the largest and most culturally diverse city in the United States appear bland, lily-white, and generally lifeless. It's like Des Moines on a Sunday morning.

To be fair I'm not a New Yorker and have never lived in the city, but in all the times I've ever visited I've never left with an impression as dull and tasteless as I did walking out of this movie. The locations are pedestrian, the stories inconsequential and insipid, the chain-smoking characters severely lacking in charisma, and the acting hit or miss (like, broad-side-of-the-barn miss). Aside from two or three of the 11 short stories, the highlight of New York, I Love You is the music playing over the closing credits.

300 Words About: The Box

So lemme get this straight, that's two disasters in a row from Richard Kelly, right?

Literally the first words I heard after a promotional screening of Richard Kelly's The Box were, "I'm so glad I didn't have to pay for that," from a relieved audience member as he left the theater. Yes you did, I thought to myself. We all did, and in more than one way.

There are a lot of options presented to the characters in The Box, only some of which (I've heard) are taken from the original short story by Richard Matheson, which apparently made for a great "Twilight Zone" episode in the 80's. The options include choosing between this or that, which will lead to one of these things happening first and second and so on. Tragically for me, never was a character presented with an option to outright end the movie and save thousands of lives in theaters around the world. "The button has been pushed," proclaimed a creepy, still-Nixonian Frank Langella, and along with everyone else I had to live with (and eventually die by) the decision I had already made to see this movie.

My disappointment may differ from yours since I'd actually been looking forward to The Box for well over a year, previewing it in my forecast for 2009 and even mentioning it back in my review of Southland Tales. I think what I failed to recognize after Kelly's defense of that disaster is how closely his words resembled M. Night Shyamalan's (who, it should be known by now, is no friend to this blog). Whether you end up seeing The Box or not, know this fact: If Shyamalan and his rising heir-apparent Kelly ever make a film together, it will be a cinematic spectacle of metaphysical frivolity and pompous bloviating like the world has never seen (at least not since Knowing).

300 Words About: Terminator Salvation

If you look really closely, you just might recognize some elements of James Cameron's creation...

There are a few things that don't belong in Terminator movies: little kids, huge talking heads on screens explaining the plot, celebrity cameos, inexplicable romance that threatens to overtake scenes, and talking dogs. The guy who insists on referring to himself by his childhood nickname has haphazardly inserted the first four of those elements into Terminator Salvation, and in all likelihood we can look forward to the fifth one in the upcoming sequel.

What bothers me about the utterly mediocre Terminator Salvation is not simply the fact that it was made. I'm not necessarily a Cameron purist and I actually liked Jonathon Mostow's Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines, even if was significantly inferior to Cameron's first two. No, what bothered me about Terminator Salvation is that despite, or maybe because of, the frequent references it made to the quotes and action elements from the earlier movies, it severely lacked vision, terror, originality and confidence. Worse, the guy who insists on referring to himself by his childhood nickname thought that he could actually adapt or update or otherwise modify this story for a new generation by adding "fresh" ideas that simply leaving you scratching your head.

For example, what in the world is a mute child doing as an important character in a Terminator movie? Where were the typically heavy - and heavily intriguing - dialogues/monologues about the war and Judgment Day? In the future, shouldn't the aiming accuracy of both the humans and machines' weapons be far more advanced, not worse than ever before? And why was Common given any face time in a completely worthless role? (And don't think I'll let slide the fact that he was wearing stylish aviator sunglasses during the climactic nighttime assault.)

I imagine the guy who insists on referring to himself by his childhood nickname would explain these bizarre decisions by saying he was trying to bring his own style to Cameron's vision, but it almost seems from Terminator Salvation that he didn't even see the first two movies, but just heard about them and picked up on the popular catch phrases. After this movie, well I'm tempted to say we'd be lucky if Judgment Day actually arrives before his tentative sequel comes out in 2011.

REVIEW: Friday the 13th (C)

Come on, don't you know by now that Jason ALWAYS wins at hide-and-go-seek? His feet are as light as a ballerina's.

Find my review from the Star Tribune here.

Grade:
Writing - 8
Acting - 7
Production - 9
Emotional Impact - 7
Music - 5
Social Significance - 1

Total: 37/50= 74% = C

REVIEW: Yes Man (C+)

Of all the quirky character traits a movie's protagonist could have, an inability to say the word "no" has a surprising amount of potential. Unfortunately, Yes Man's team of young writers took the concept far too literally; the awkwardly meandering story makes it clear they were saying "yes" to just about any idea that popped up in their writing sessions. As I haven't read the book on which it's based, which details the real-life experiment of Scottish humorist Danny Wallace, I can't say with any authority that parts of it are completely made up.

But if the idea was to make an inspiring movie about living life out loud and seeking new experiences, ridiculously juvenile scenes (portraying oral sex from an elderly neighbor, for example) greatly reduce any chance that Yes Man can be seen for anything other than what it is: a completely predictable, ultimately disappointing romantic comedy. Clearly playing off of Liar Liar, the set-up also reminded me of Shallow Hal, which yes, also has plenty of immaturity to spare (it is a Farrelly Brothers movie), but leaves you with a more meaningful lesson, if not a lot more humor, than Yes Man.

Jim Carrey's career is in need of a good boost, but as perfect as he is for this part, the spotlight primarily shines on Rhys Darby, who doesn't stray much from his character on HBO's "Flight of the Conchords", and Zooey Deschanel, the underachieving actress who unknowingly almost killed her career last summer in The Happening. Together along with Bradley Cooper (an experienced actor known mostly from Wedding Crashers) and Terence Stamp (who plays a conscientious S.S. officer next week in Valkyrie), the cast ambles its way through repetitive gags and a disappointingly bland storyline.

The major laughs come from the minor situations - a Harry Potter-themed party, a mail-order bride fiasco, Korean language lessons (Carrey actually learned some Korean for the part). This is the good stuff, but it's still overshadowed by one too many sight gags, as if to prove Carrey can still do slapstick comedy as he inches toward age 50. Why not make use of his dramatic talent and add a little heart and soul to the character? And here's another thing: at one point his character clearly says "No" (in denying that he's a terrorist). Is this an egregious error in the story, or is there something I missed about the rules of the game? If so, forgive me for losing focus - and interest - as the movie progressed.

"Hey buddy, don't you go stealing every scene from me now..."

I'm not exactly sure why Yes Man is being rolled out during the Christmas season, where it's likely to get lost in the shuffle of the award contenders. Why not position it for a strong March or April release, where it clearly belongs? Maybe the story has come to life and the studio is saying "yes" to a risky marketing campaign. Or maybe I'm wrong and the movie will strike gold during this gloomy economic period. Either way, can you wait to see it on DVD or during its inevitable repeated play on TBS? Yes, man.

Grade:
Writing - 7
Acting - 9
Production - 7
Emotional Impact - 8
Music - 5
Social Significance - 3

Total: 39/50= 78% = C+

REVIEW: Australia (C+)

Australia bears all the hallmarks of an old Hollywood epic: sappy romance, horrifying bombing scenes, exotic culture, campy comedy, beautiful panoramas, evil villains and a majestic musical score. It's all grand and nostalgic. So then why is the movie such a disappointment?

For one thing, it's way too long. I recently heard an interview with L.A. Times critic Kenneth Turan, who quipped that Australia was one of the few movies to feature its own sequel within its running time. It's true - the movie literally ends, with everything tidily resolved, before starting all over again. But it's not that having two movies in one is Australia's problem. It's that both of the movies are bad, which makes it a doubly long chore to sit through.

Unfortunately, Australia bears little of the experimental fun of Baz Luhrmann's last two films, the acclaimed Moulin Rouge! and the underrated Romeo + Juliet. Like most people, I enjoyed those for their wild spirits, not for their conventional character, which makes you wonder why Luhrmann decided on telling a story from his native land with such by-the-book blandness. Somewhere in Australia (and Australia) is an interesting story, but it's obscured by all kinds of unnecessary details (who really cares about the technicalities of a real estate battle in the Outback?).

I'd have liked to learn more about Aboriginal culture, for example, which hasn't been touched on film since 2002's unforgettable Rabbit-Proof Fence (which also starred David Gulpilil, who plays King George here). In Australia, we get whiffs of the controversy and a cute face to admire (newcomer Brandon Walters, who was evidently directed by Luhrmann to channel Jar-Jar Binks), but the discussions are hardly thought-provoking, mostly because you realize everything is meant to revolve around the romance between Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman, both native Australians who agreed to star without having read the screenplay. The end result is that I wasn't moved by either the love story or the cultural story, and I was rolling my eyes much more than I was my wiping tears away from them.

It's not that there aren't touching moments, but they're mostly accidental and even then they can be attributed to honest acting more than honest writing. Several deaths are truly tragic, and the backdrop of war behind everything eventually adds a somber mood (it's almost welcome by that point). But everytime you feel a touch of emotion coming on there's a silly joke to break up the mood or an impressive visual (and there are some very beautiful shots) to distract you from your own feelings.

Nicole Kidman searches for the end of the movie, not knowing it doesn't exist...

Australia presents us with a veritable smorgasbord of cinematic delights and plot tangents, and it's impossible not to feel uncomfortably full after consuming all of them. You can't push the plate away because it just keeps piling up with more, like some nightmarish buffet for the senses (it's fitting that the film was released at Thanksgiving). The same could probably be said for Moulin Rouge!, but as showy and theatrical as that was, there was something more... real about it. Additionally, it had a great soundtrack compared to Australia, which is almost entirely centered around "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". Hugh Jackman asks his droving buddy not to whistle the tune near the end of the movie because it reminds him of a happier time in his life. I felt the same way, actually, and was relieved when he mercifully stopped whistling, partly because I'd grown tired of the song, but mostly because it reminded me of a better movie - one that I knew I'd rather be watching.

Grade:
Writing - 7
Acting - 9
Production - 7
Emotional Impact - 6
Music - 5
Social Significance - 5

Total: 39/50= 78% = C+

Terminator IV: The Bond Ultimatum (Quantum of Solace)

Who ARE you, and what have you done with James Bond?

I was going to post a full defense of the reasons I love James Bond movies today, but then I ended up seeing Quantum of Solace a day earlier than I expected. So, now I can just review the new one through the lens of the old ones.

It must have been in the late 80's that I saw my first Bond movie. I'm not sure how, I'm not sure when (probably some time between The Living Daylights and License to Kill), and I'm not sure which one it was, but it kicked off what would end up being a number of years of watching all of the movies multiple times with my best childhood friend. We loved how Bond would inevitably triumph over some ridiculous villain, always using the coolest gadget weapons and then cracking wise with some play on words before dashing off with the girl. He was like a funnier version of MacGyver, but with a haircut, a fun accent, and a job (as an undercover agent no less).

I quickly gained a liking for the Bonds of the 60's and 70's. At the time I only knew Sean Connery as the old guy who talked funny, so it was a revelation to see him as a handsome action star (I had a similar discovery when I first saw Jon Voight in Midnight Cowboy). I never understood the prevalent sexual innuendo (which is good), but I always knew there was something about James Bond that made him cooler than action heroes like Indiana Jones or John McClane, even if I couldn't put my finger on exactly why that was the case.

Eventually I came to prefer Roger Moore, mostly because he first starred in Live and Let Die, which remains one of my favorite of the series to this day. Although Moore looked more like a news anchor than an awesome secret agent, he brought something new to the character. He could pull of the dashing Bond looks (flirty smirking included), he had a knack for delivering the post-kill jokes (easily the funniest Bond), and he even managed the action scenes admirably. It should be noted, by the way, that Moore was 45 years old in Live and Let Die and 58 years old in his last of the series, A View to a Kill, which despite Christopher Walken's weirdness still remains an underrated Bond movie.

By the mid-90's I was well versed in the older Bonds and simply satisfied with Timothy Dalton's two movies. In fact I was so busy watching the older ones during that period that I didn't even notice a new one hadn't been released in six years. When GoldenEye eventually came out, I was as surprised as I was excited. It wasn't an immediate hit for me when I saw it, but after multiple viewings and what must have amounted to several thousands of hours of playing the N64 game with my friends, I came to include GoldenEye as one of the most watchable of the series. Pierce Brosnan seemed like a great fit, and had it not been for his last three movies in the series, he might have been one of the greats. Of course, it wasn't entirely his fault since by the late 90's Bond had lost his mojo. A new generation wasn't responding to the old tricks, Austin Powers arrived, and Bond became a slick action series instead of a witty spy series. It's no wonder Brosnan's four films each grossed more at the box office than any of the movies all the way back to Moonraker.

If only because I had almost completely lost faith in the franchise after Die Another Day, Casino Royale was a most interesting development. Daniel Craig, whose first starring role was in my favorite movie of all time (The Power of One), did not at all seem like he could do justice to James Bond in my head, but with the help of some solid action and a nod to some of the older Bond movies, I found Casino Royale to be at least as good as anything since GoldenEye, and my enthusiasm returned for the series. Which brings us to Quantum of Solace.

Before addressing the movie, I have to first address my shocking surprise at the amount of Bond backlash I have seen online in the last month, not only among trusted blogger friends of my generation (Fletch and Elgringo, for example), but also in major movie circles. Who knew that so many people disliked James Bond? I'm blinded by my nostalgia for the series, but how can people find not any redeeming quality in a franchise that's lasted four decades? For a character that fights for his country and the world - and makes jokes while doing it (speaking of which, how could you even find anything in Austin Powers funny if you've never seen Thunderball)? For movies that have some of the best stunts and locations of any action movies in history? I don't get it. There are cases to be made against Bond, but I either haven't heard enough of them or I haven't heard any persuasive ones. For the biggest film franchise in history, I dare say it's only fair to judge them on merit according to each other, and not to the popular culture of the day.

"Come with me if you want to live"...

When judging Quantum of Solace only in relation to the other Bond movies, then, you find that it's an almost complete reinvention of both the character of James Bond and the style of the Bond movie. You find, unfortunately, that it's quite awful.

Beginning as it should with a frenzied action scene, we confirm that we're watching what amounts to deleted scenes from Casino Royale. This is no surprise, of course, as the movie is meant to be a full-on sequel. Producer Michael Wilson simply made up the plot for Quantum of Solace during the production of Casino Royale, and the same screenwriting team is back, along with Paul Haggis (Crash, In the Valley of Elah). Ian Fleming? His influence is nowhere to be found.

Aside from being too confusingly edited (which continues throughout the movie, I might add), this opening scene is also way too serious - a real harbinger of the mood to come. Bond is all business now, and he's got no time to have fun or crack a joke about the car he sends off a cliff. As the pre-title sequence ends, we're indeed emotionally "shaken, not stirred".

I first heard about the rumors of the new Bond song at Craig Kennedy's Living in Cinema (I just realized it was actually this thread that produced the Bond series idea, Craig). When the artists were finally confirmed as Jack White and Alicia Keys, I was...curious. Turns out I had good reason, as "Another Way to Die" is possibly one of the worst Bond songs to date, hampered even further by a terribly unimaginative, weirdly futuristic title sequence. I couldn't wait for the beginning to end.

Director Marc Forster (The Kite Runner) doesn't seem to add much new to this production either, aside from some unnecessarily artistic location subtitles and a cloak of confused depression over the entire production. As Bond travels from location to location, we rarely get the same jet-setting feeling present in so many older Bond productions, where we knew we were in a different place because of obvious cultural stereotypes (the gypsy fight in From Russia With Love) and an exotic new Bond girl. The best Forster can offer is Bond's brief time in Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, where the hotel clerks inexplicably speak with Jamaican accents.

As Quantum of Solace moves into the heart of the production, we begin to recognize a smidge of Casino Royale and a hint of the old Bond spirit. Some of the same characters float in and out, with a boring new Bond girl (Olga Kurylenko) and a completely dispassionate villain (Mathieu Amalric). There is the obligatory grand party scene (an outdoor opera) and the always creepy villain's sidekick. A boat chase is a particularly welcome sight, but while it's better than the one in From Russia With Love, it's not nearly as much fun as those in Live and Let Die or even The World Is Not Enough. Most of the attempts at capturing the Bond spirit either feel lazy (a complete ripoff of Jill's death in Goldfinger) or accidental (the taxi scene and amusing arrival at the hotel in La Paz was pitch perfect). More than anything else, in fact, Quantum of Solace reminded me a lot more of non-Bond movies.

The scene similarities to The Bourne Ultimatum, for example, could hardly be more obvious, including the hotel room hand-to-hand combat, the cobbled rooftop chases, and even the exact same rear view balcony-to-balcony jump stunt. This James Bond has no gadget weaponry, no tricky killing schemes - not even a cool car! Like Jason Bourne, he's just an amazing athlete with a chip on his shoulder who knows how to use a gun, and like The Terminator, he uses the gun with the same amount of emotion that we use operating a calculator. That the piercingly blue-eyed Daniel Craig doesn't smile one time throughout this movie is about all the proof you need that this isn't good ol' Bond.

Good ol' Bond has a witty line after every elaborate kill (silent after the boat chase?). Good ol' Bond is a charming lothario in the bedroom, not a cold-blooded robot awkwardly trying to crack a joke about not being able to find stationery. Good ol' Bond actually seems to like his job, believe it or not. And really, we don't know much more than that about good ol' Bond, because the old Bond movies aren't actually about James Bond, just like the old Batman movies weren't actually about Bruce Wayne. But now we have The Dark Knight and Quantum of Solace, two attempts to breathe new souls into decades-old characters. Both movies also come as sequels to "new" interpretations of a character (Batman Begins is to The Dark Knight as Casino Royale is to Quantum of Solace).

And while both movies are top-notch cinematic productions, The Dark Knight worked well for me because I have no connection to the Batman character of decades past. Tim Burton's Batman was the start for me, just as GoldenEye was the start for many current Bond fans. But for those people who have an appreciation for Ian Fleming's Bond, for Albert Broccoli's Bond, for Sean Connery's and Roger Moore's Bonds, I can only be surprised if they also enjoy Quantum of Solace. I suppose I should expect that many people have been waiting for the dark side of Bond to emerge, but I'm just not one of them.

"007" is simply the model number of this robotic killing machine...

"Bond, I need you back," presses M as Bond walks out into the snowy night at the end of the movie. "I never left," he says as he drops Vesper's pendant in the snow. Um, is there any better proof that you did leave, James? Since when were you driven by vengeance and a broken heart, like Jason Bourne? Well, I suppose since Casino Royale, which is meant to precede all of the other Bonds anyway. It's just that I still have trouble accepting that this Bond becomes the old Bond, because he seems like a completely different person. Hopefully, the dropped pendant is the end of this chapter in Bond's life.

Please move on, because I need you back, too, Bond.

_________________________________

Don't forget to check out these other Bond posts:

• Christian's insightful background on the Bond brand, including a special appreciation of Timothy Dalton in The Living Daylights;
• Craig's fondness for the score and scenery of You Only Live Twice; (Day Two); (Three); (Four); (Five);
  
• Alexander's persuasive defense of Sean Connery in Goldfinger;
• Miranda's musings on the best Bond women, the best Bond villains, and the best Bond cars;
• My love for The Spy Who Loved Me;
• A classic Bond pre-title sequence from Diamonds Are Forever;
• Alexander's thrashing of Quantum of Solace;
• Miranda's review of the original Casino Royale;
• Alexander's review of the 2006 version of Casino Royale;
• Miranda's review of Quantum of Solace;
• Miranda's review of The Living Daylights;
• Christian's take on the original Casino Royale;
  
• Miranda's review of Moonraker;
• Miranda's review of License to Kill;
• Christian's appreciation of the Bond theme song that never was;
  

REVIEW: Changeling (C-)

A full disclosure before I address this movie: For the last decade, there has been no actress who's bothered me more than Angelina Jolie. I don't know her and I don't mean to make any personal judgments about her. I think she has acting talent and I commend her efforts (whatever her motive) for bringing awareness to the plight of refugees worldwide.

But that doesn't mean I have to respect her lifestyle and it doesn't mean I have to like her movies. It doesn't mean I have to fawn over her children or her fashion sense, or that I have to ignore the fact that as arguably the most overexposed celebrity in the world, it's virtually impossible for her to disappear into any role. It doesn't mean I have to drop to my knees while she simply alternates between sexy killer (Tomb Raider, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Beowulf, Kung Fu Panda, Wanted) and tortured hero (Beyond Borders, A Mighty Heart, Changeling). It doesn't mean I have to listen to her pretentiously deliver the wisdom of an old soul as she waxes nostalgic about Hollywood's golden years (she's the oldest 35 year-old I've ever heard; you're not Meryl Streep, honey). And it certainly doesn't mean I have to accept the ridiculous notion that she has "died for my sins". Please.

I say all of this as a defense, because if you know this about me (and enough people do), you're ready to dismiss my criticism for Changeling as criticism for Jolie. But it's not. There is plenty enough wrong with this movie that has nothing to do with her, and it wouldn't be fair to tear down a movie for one performance anyway. Jolie gets a pass for this one, even though the costumed character of her Oscar-baiting performance reminded me more of an emaciated clown than a distraught mother. To be most accurate, this was Madame Tutli-Putli brought to life (let's forget I recently made the same comparison for a different movie). But Jolie was fine in her part, predictably balancing elegance with extreme emotional outbursts. So if wasn't her that I had a problem with, what was it?

For starters, the lack of a compelling story. On the surface, the true life tale of a mother battling with the corrupt L.A.P.D. over the true whereabouts of her kidnapped child sounds fascinating, but digging deeper it ends up being a bit of a bore. Equal parts Zodiac and L.A. Confidential, it lacks both the chilling moments of the former and the suspenseful intrigue of the latter. There's almost no way to form a natural connection with the characters (natural being the operative word, assuming you can ignore the manipulative filmmaking), which makes sitting through it for 141 minutes pretty tiring. There's a noirish feel around the entire production (especially in the visual style and setting), but Changeling is glaringly lacking in two of the most important elements of noir: character and tone.

Who are these people, and why should we care about them? Christine Collins (Jolie) is depicted as a saintly single mom, but we know literally nothing about her aside from the fact that her husband left her and her son, and now she works as a manager at the telephone company. She’s certainly the victim of a great tragedy here, but I guess I needed something else to latch on to. Besides, it seemed more like Angelina Jolie playing Angelina Jolie than anything else. Give me more background on Christine Collins and I’ll be better able to empathize with Christine Collins.

Even more one-dimensional than Collins is Captain J.J. Jones (Jeffrey Donovan from USA’s “Burn Notice”), the tough talking L.A.P.D. cop who writes his own rules, emotionally wavers between mildly annoyed and extremely irritated, and, for no identifiable reason, speaks with an Irish brogue. In the other corner is John Malkovich (Burn After Reading), a historically great actor who recently seems to be phoning in these blaring performances just so he has an opportunity to shout on cue. Add in a stereotypically insane villain, some annoying kids (who apparently don’t age at all during their adolescence), and evil mental hospital nurses who look like they just came off the set of an old horror movie, and you’ve rounded out the overall poor cast of characters. If not for Christine’s boss and Amy Ryan (Gone Baby Gone) showing some flashes of believable emotion, there might not be a real person on screen throughout the movie.

In fact, the cityscapes and period touches feel more realistic than the people speaking, and it would be fair to predict Changeling receiving some Oscar consideration for its art direction (an opportunity for Best Costume was missed by having Jolie wear the same outfit throughout the movie). Beyond that, I would be surprised if the movie made any splashes during award season.

Oh wait, I forgot. The person responsible for this mess is also the person most beloved by the Academy in recent years: Clint Eastwood.

To take nothing away from a legendary career that spans four decades, I wonder if anyone has yet to gain the courage to tell Mr. Eastwood that his recent projects (Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby, Letters from Iwo Jima, all three Best Picture nominees or winners) aren’t quite as good as he’s tried to make us admit. The guy has a gift for manipulation, and I’m talking about his filmmaking, not his business practices. In Changeling, it’s evident in the cheap thriller moments (chicken spooks detective at ranch) and subliminal musical scores (throughout the legal proceedings), as well as unnecessary flashbacks (the ax and the ruler) and exaggerated running time (just because it’s long doesn’t mean it’s epic).

Angelina Jolie saves the world again at a theater near you...

I don’t want to call Changeling a bad movie as much as I want to call it a missed opportunity. On paper, the story really should have made for something more substantive, more moving or at the very least, more relatable to 2008. Kids are still going missing and the L.A.P.D. is still accused of corruption, but Eastwood fails to connect any dots and make this story relevant in the way that (never thought I’d compare these two “directors”) Ben Affleck did last year in Gone Baby Gone. Alright, so that movie took place in the present day – maybe that’s unfair. But at least Gone Baby Gone was mostly entertaining, wasn’t it? The same can’t be said for Changeling. Now excuse me while I inexplicably buy a ticket to see Eastwood’s Gran Torino next month…

Grade:
Writing - 6
Acting - 7
Production - 6
Emotional Impact - 6
Music - 4
Social Significance - 5

Total: 35/50= 70% = C-

REVIEW: Body of Lies (C+)

"Trust no one. Deceive everyone.," declares the official tagline for Ridley Scott's Body of Lies. The phrasing is an appropriate metaphor for the movie in two ways: 1.) the wording is as unoriginal and bland as the story itself, and 2.) it describes the internal marketing strategy for this movie at Warner Bros., since they're clearly trying to deceive us into thinking we're getting something richer than the action-packed trailer suggests.

It was only last April that Washington Post columnist David Ignatius's bestselling novel of the same name was released. Filming on Body of Lies began in September. How did they do that, and what was the rush anyway? We're guaranteed years more of these movies about Iraq and the "War on Terror" (a veritable genre is developing), so what was accomplished by fast-tracking this one for an October surprise?

As it happens, the biggest surprise in Body of Lies is the fact that it's not a better movie. Sir Ridley Scott's track record has been shaky in the last few years (though I don't think either American Gangster nor A Good Year were as outright terrible as some people think), but this is still a director who helmed a Best Picture winner within the last decade (not to mention Blade Runner decades ago), so the name automatically carries a fairly high level of expectation. Body of Lies marks the third time in as many years Scott has directed Russell Crowe, and the first time he's worked with the reliably great Leonardo DiCaprio (Blood Diamond, The Departed).

Unfortunately, this truly A-list trio has produced a truly C-grade movie. Body of Lies is admittedly better than several of its cousins (The Kingdom, Rendition), but despite an experienced director and committed cast, it still ends up achieving only mediocrity. It's almost as if Ridley Scott knew that substance was lacking but just decided to produce his way out of it and hope nobody noticed. Significantly slicker and more visually realistic than its predecessors, Body of Lies commands your attention only to tell you something annoyingly trivial. What was the point of this again?

Oh yeah, to celebrate jingoism and reinforce toxic stereotypes about the Middle East. Look, I'm not saying terrorism isn't a real threat and that these movies don't have some educational potential, but at this point the "rogue American hero infiltrating terror cells and romancing the beautiful local woman" is a pretty stale set-up, and we never learn any lesson at the end anyway, do we? The number of clichés on display here is almost breathtaking; it's disconcerting and frankly insulting, for example, to see CIA agents continue to disguise themselves in foreign countries by wearing track jackets, sunglasses, and floppy hats, successfully establishing themselves as the only people in the country ever dressed like that.

But I'm asking for too much if I'm asking for a new story. It's just that I would enjoy something fresh, a crazy conspiracy theory or a shocking twist at the end - anything new. If I'm not going to get anything meaningful out of these movies, at least entertain me. Russell Crowe knows this, otherwise why would he ham up his performance as a hilarious hybrid of Donald Rumsfeld and George W. Bush? Leonardo DiCaprio (whose "costume" here is almost comical: brown contact lenses and a lumberjack goatee?) knows this, otherwise why would he leave me near tears laughing at the scene with the children at lunch, one of the funniest I've seen all year? In fact if it wasn't for Crowe, Russell, and what should finally be a star-making turn for Mark Strong (Sunshine; Stardust), the movie would be almost unbearable to sit through, even if it is kind of pretty to look at.

Hollywood surrenders to contrivances and clichés yet again...

If any of this sounded familiar as you were reading it, imagine how I felt writing it. I already reviewed this movie here, here, here, here, here, and, most importantly, here. Turn a synopsis from any of those reviews into a Mad Lib and you'll likely end up summarizing Body of Lies in the process.

Grade:
Writing - 7
Acting - 10
Production - 8
Emotional Impact - 7
Music - 4
Social Significance - 5

Total: 39/50= 78% = C+

REVIEW: Flash of Genius (C+)

I had to do a little background research on Flash of Genius before I saw it, if only to confirm that it was actually a movie about windshield wipers. A cast led by Greg Kinnear (Ghost Town) and Lauren Graham ("Gilmore Girls") was appealing enough, so with a healthy dose of curiosity I found myself in a packed preview screening a couple weeks ago for a movie that, well, was indeed about windshield wipers. Excuse me, intermittent windshield wipers.

Adapted from this 1993 New Yorker article by screenwriter Philip Railsback, Flash of Genius tells the true story of Bob Kearns (who died in 2005), an engineering professor and amateur inventor who invented the intermittent windshield wiper in 1962, only to see the the local automakers in his native Detroit, including Ford and Chrysler, effectively steal his invention and begin permanently featuring the windshield wipers that we all take for granted today.

Maybe take a break here, have a glass of water and let your heart rate get back to baseline. Make sure you're prepared for the excitement coming later in the legal proceedings.

For a movie like Flash of Genius to work it needs to evoke sympathy from the viewer, but unfortunately in this case we feel sorry for the wrong person - Kearn's wife, Phyllis (Graham), who saw her husband devote well over a decade of his life to fighting Ford for the due credit for his invention. Assuming his efforts were in vain (Kinnear has compared Kearns' fight to "taking on Google today"), Phyllis somewhat understandably left him and ended up caring for their six children on her own. You probably know what happens at the end of the story, as it wouldn't make for a very good movie if it didn't end in the usually predictable fashion.

It's not that the life and legacy of Bob Kearns isn't an important one, it's just that Flash of Genius doesn't treat it like one. There's a moment, for example, when Kearns is walking to his car in the pouring rain on a dark night. Backed by an ominous musical score, a menacing Ford Mustang growls at the nearest stoplight. As our pulse quickens, Kearns anxiously squints through the storm at the approaching beast as the scene reaches its dramatic climax: the wipers have a 1.75 second pause between cycles. End scene.

If only someone had worked so painstakingly to make a better movie...

Greg Kinnear's performance deserves a better script here (the only bright spot is a monologue delivered by Alan Alda as Kearns' attorney), and Bob Kearns' life deserves a better movie. Somebody thought they had their own "flash of genius" in deciding to turn John Seabrook's article into a movie, but I'm sorry to say the insipid Flash of Genius is an invention we probably could have done without, somewhat like an "As Seen on TV!" product featured in a late-night infomercial. Sounds about right, actually, and I recommend changing the channel.

Grade:
Writing - 7
Acting - 9
Production - 7
Emotional Impact - 7
Music - 4
Social Significance - 5

Total: 39/50= 78% = C+

300 Words About: Hamlet 2

Attention parents: this is not to be confused with "High School Musical"...

There's a moment near the end of Hamlet 2 when Elizabeth Shue (in a terrific "return" to the screen) is sitting in an audience watching the stage production of "Hamlet 2". She's laughing out loud and clapping while the people around her are simply staring in baffled amusement, as if their brains are working overtime trying to pay attention to the musical while also figuring out why she's laughing so much more than them. The scenario is a pretty accurate depiction of my time in the theater watching Hamlet 2. Boisterous laughing would explode from different corners of the theater at different times, and all I could is nervously smile and wonder why I was missing so many of the jokes.

Writer/Director Andrew Fleming (Dick, Nancy Drew) infuses enough easy comedy in his story of a washed-up actor turned high school drama teacher to make Hamlet 2 a light summer flick, but it never quite reaches the level of hilarity that you could rightfully expect from its cast, which includes Steve Coogan (Tropic Thunder), Catherine Keener (Into the Wild), Amy Poehler ("SNL", Baby Mama), Shue, and Melonie Diaz (Be Kind Rewind), who seems to be challenging Ellen Page for the number of high school-age characters she can play in consecutive movies.

The most glaring problem in Hamlet 2 is that the entire weight of the comedy is on the shoulders of Coogan, and it's a load that he can't sustain on his own for 92 minutes. The supporting cast is simply there to receive his jokes (most of which are immature and inane), and none of them offer much on their own. Compare this with the rich characters in something like Waiting for Guffman (which could have produced multiple spin-offs), and you have an idea of how one-dimensional Hamlet 2 is. Moreover, its efforts at poking fun at high school drama programs, Dangerous Minds, and even Elizabeth Shue's career aren't as clever as they should be. In fact, two of the funniest jokes happen to come at the expense of the city of Tucson, AZ, simply because they are two of the jokes that we don't see coming a mile away.

If there is a highlight aside from Coogan's performance, it's the climactic performance of the musical's outrageous showstopper "Rock Me Sexy Jesus," which, while irreverent, is not as outwardly offensive as it may seem. Ironically, had we seen more of the actual stage production of "Hamlet 2", it may have made for a better movie.

300 Words About: Bottle Shock

Looks more like a commercial for Budweiser than for "Chateau Montelena"...

Like a bottle of fine wine, Bottle Shock opens with tantalizing promise. The sweeping views of vineyards in Napa Valley forecast a warm and charming account of the true story of the breakthrough of California wines in the 1970's. Like a box of cheap wine, however, Bottle Shock unfortunately becomes a regret before you're halfway through it. If Sideways was the perfect Pinot Noir, Bottle Shock is Miles' dreaded Merlot.

Director/Co-Writer Randall Miller lets all of the interesting potential of his source material ferment into ridiculous subplots about dull romance and daddy issues, so instead of an intelligent, inspiring, and engrossing look at how British oenophile Steven Spurrier discovered Chateau Montelena in California's Napa Valley, Bottle Shock exists as a bloated, jocular farce that features a two-minute wet t-shirt contest with poor Rachael Taylor (Transformers) as its only contestant. It's one of several moments that make you remember, "Oh, yeah - Randall Miller also directed Houseguest and The Sixth Man."

Maybe I could overlook the stale writing if it wasn't the great Alan Rickman (Sweeney Todd) who was being fed such terrible lines. Actually I take that back - I couldn't overlook it no matter what, and the acting by Bill Pullman (who along with literally half the cast was just in Miller's Nobel Son) and Chris Pine (Captain Kirk in Star Trek next year) as father and son is just plain flat. That both Rickman and Dennis Farina (The Grand) are sidelined so we can watch teens behaving badly is probably the most unforgivable offense of Bottle Schlock (excuse me, Shock), along with, of course, the short shrift given to the story of the wine itself.

Though I've been to Napa Valley a couple of times and toured wineries, and I saw the oddly ignored Mondovino a few years ago, I'm nothing close to an expert on wine. About all I know by this point is that I prefer white over red and that Champagne is a place. But I don't buy wine and I rarely drink it; something about the stereotypical culture of it has prevented me from fully embracing it.

It's pretty ironic, then, that I'd much rather spend a day at the vineyard with the snobbiest of oenophiles than hang out with any of the characters of Bottle Shock for an afternoon.

300 Words About: Pineapple Express

Killing time, waiting for a funnier movie...

If not for these languid summer months, would we even have stoner comedies like Pineapple Express? Elsewhere in the year they would get lost (see Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay), but in August they exist not only to provide a brief respite from the heat, but to ensure that any remaining brain cells we have are thoroughly eliminated before Oscar season (and for some people, school) starts again in the fall.

Unfortunately, the Judd Apatow-produced Pineapple Express is too busy killing its own brain cells to do any damage to ours. Hardly written and awkwardly edited, it's an altogether disappointingly dumb movie, made worse by the fact that we know everybody involved has done better. I didn't say it wasn't funny - James Franco and especially Danny McBride (star of this year's The Foot Fist Way) are terrific in their roles as ditzy dealers, and Seth Rogen essentially channels himself as Ben Stone from Knocked Up. Seemingly every other line is ad-libbed and there's plenty of violent action to keep the momentum going. Boys 12 and under will love it.

So why isn't Pineapple Express a better movie? Three reasons: 1.) We're missing Paul Rudd and Jonah Hill; 2.) Apatow traditionally inserts a female outlier into each of his casts, (Christina Applegate in Anchorman, Catherine Keener in The 40 Year-Old Virgin, Katherine Heigl in Knocked Up, Mila Kunis in Forgetting Sarah Marshall), but this being one of the most macho Apatow movies yet, there is no such female presence, and the movie aches for someone to not only balance out the testosterone, but to bounce the best jokes off of; and 3.) Indie-drama director David Gordon Green (Snow Angels) is handcuffed by a moronic story and a skeleton script. His precious idea that he did a movie like Pineapple Express "to switch gears" is made meaningless by the fact that his involvement (at least appears to be) so limited. Can anyone point out for me the definitively Green aspects of this movie? Either way, any genuine attempt at making this movie something other than juvenile shenanigans would be yet another strike against Pineapple Express.

I'm fully aware that most people's expectations for Pineapple Express will result in a self-fulfilling prophecy; many will consider it the funniest movie of the year so far. But you'll have a hard time convincing me the movie is better than the trailer, or that our standards for blockbuster comedies are not still way too low.

300 Words About: Step Brothers

Grown men fighting like little children. The most symbolic movie of the year?

How is Judd Apatow not a recognizable name yet? We only ever hear, "From the guy who brought you...", as if it's not obvious enough when we see the cast. So, from the guy who "brought" us Anchorman, Kicking & Screaming, The 40 Year-Old Virgin, Talladega Nights, Knocked Up, Superbad, Walk Hard, Drillbit Taylor, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, You Don't Mess With the Zohan, and Pineapple Express, (breathe) comes Step Brothers.

There's little to discuss as relates to the plot of Step Brothers: Ferrell and Reilly are middle-aged children living at home with single parents (Mary Steenburgen and Richard Jenkins, respectively) who meet and get married. Now reluctant stepbrothers, the two men wrestle, hurl objects, and scream obscenities at each other for 95 minutes, stopping only to put on a different vintage 80's shirt at every opportunity.

A disclaimer, beforehand: 1.) My expectations for movies "brought to us" by Apatow was as low as ever, regardless of the specifics of his involvement; 2.) I didn't think John C. Reilly's full-blown commitment to comedy since 2005 was a good thing; and 3.) fresh off the heels of the terrible Semi-Pro, I still believed Will Ferrell could do no wrong.

All three of those facts remained true after Step Brothers. I thought Ferrell was hilarious, I thought Reilly was horrible, and I think the Apatow brand is a sham. Moreover, I'm concerned that the whole crew has become lazy, and that this is all we can expect going forward. The writing is uninspired (e.g., a repetitive sleepwalking gag) and there's way too much reliance on physical comedy. Also, it should say something when Jenkins steals every scene from the two leads. It would be one thing if Ferrell and Reilly were playing immature adults. We've seen that before and it can work. But here, they're actually playing immature children.

What happened to the wicked wit of Anchorman (Ferrell and Adam McKay wrote both movies, along with Talladega Nights)? Even though the plot of Anchorman was just as inane, it was more than saved by hilarious characters and well-developed jokes, and remains one of my favorite comedies. The formula in Step Brothers, unfortunately, seems to be one part character, two parts slapstick, three parts obscenities, a measure of potty humor and (Apatow's contribution I'm sure) a dash of male genitalia.

I know I'll sound like a snob, but is this really acceptable as the best work by America's comic geniuses? It's no wonder the funniest movie of the year so far has come from France.

REVIEW: You Don't Mess With the Zohan (C)

Background: Maybe it's just me, but for a second there I thought Adam Sandler was done with comedy. He weirded up for Punch-Drunk Love, tried a romantic novela with Spanglish, and swung for the Oscar fences with Reign Over Me. Of course, the truth was that he frequently squeezed comedies in between, but I just avoided almost all of them after Big Daddy. With You Don't Mess With the Zohan, Sandler reteams with his usual director, Dennis Dugan (don't let Happy Gilmore overshadow his directing debut with Problem Child), as well as some 90's SNL cast members, the up-and-coming Nick Swardson (Blades of Glory, "Reno 911!"), and the odd man out, John Turturro (Margot at the Wedding). Zohan was written by Sandler, SNL scribe Robert Smigel, and - you're not going to believe this - Judd Apatow, who also wrote this review. Yep, his name is printed here, so he wrote it.

Synopsis : Zohan (Sandler) is an Israeli counter-terrorism agent on vacation. Which means, of course, that he is usually naked and always gyrating his hips. A nude barbecue is interrupted when he's whisked away on assignment because his rival, The Phantom (Turturro), is causing trouble in Lebanon. Zohan reluctantly sets off in his usual outfit (a Mariah Carey t-shirt and Daisy Dukes) and dispatches of some Arabs on the way to the showdown with The Phantom, where he fakes his own death. Free of his military duties, he's off to New York City with a new identity ("Scrappy Coco") to fulfill his dream of being a hairstylist for Paul Mitchell. Somehow (it's shown, but not explained) he ends up living with a random Jewish guy (Swardson) and his mother, but he's unsuccessful in his job search until he settles for a salon "on the Palestinian side of the street," which happens to be owned by the beautiful Dalia. Zohan soon charms the pants (um, literally) off the salon's regular elderly women, who begin lining up at the door for his "services". Meanwhile, Dalia is fighting off hotel developers while Salim (Schneider), a former Palestinian foe of Zohan, learns his identity and prepares to strike. OK, let's just get this over with. The Phantom comes to New York for a hacky-sack tournament. Rednecks from the South are called up to incite Israeli-Palestinian violence. Mariah Carey shows up. So do a bunch of other people you'd recognize. Uh, let me think, some other stuff happens, yeah, it ends with a big fight and some kind of truce...whatever. Sex and hummus: that's the movie.

I Loved:
+ Kevin Nealon - what a great comeback!
+ Nick Swardson, who's starting to get a lot of attention here in his native Minnesota. And could he have looked any more like the child of Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly and/or Noah Emmerich?
+ The disco break at the hacky-sack game.

I Liked:
+ Dave Matthews - who knew he could nail the part of a redneck?
+ Rob Schneider - he wasn't really that funny, but he at least tried to "act" more than anyone else.

I Disliked:
- Zohan's voice - like a combination of Borat, Billy Madison, and Jar-Jar Binks.
- The Israeli accents that sounded French more than anything else.

I Hated:
- The hummus. What was that about?

Grade:
Writing - 6
Acting - 6
Production - 8
Emotional Impact - 7
Music - 5
Significance - 5

Total: 37/50= 74% = C

Last Word: I should really underline the fact that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict frames the entire length of You Don't Mess With the Zohan. For attempting some dialogue on the issue - as ridiculous as it might be - I commend Sandler. For everything else, I shame him, because the movie is, believe it or not, even more immature than Billy Madison. Repetitive sex jokes aren't really gut-busting, and the obsession with hummus (dipping eyeglasses in it to lick it off?) becomes more obnoxious than it could have ever seemed on paper. Worse, half of the humor depends on at least a basic understanding of Arab/Israeli relations, which I for some reason doubt is possessed by the movie's target audience. I won't deny that there are funny moments every now and then, but it could have been a lot funnier and a lot sharper overall, especially with the solid cast. Why waste writing and comedic acting talent on stupid subplots and toilet humor - and then take it a step further and dress it up as some kind of funny cultural satire? Here's some free advice: don't you mess with the Zohan when it arrives on DVD...

300 Words About: The Foot Fist Way

You might know the story by now: Sometime ago, Judd Apatow saw a little indie film called The Foot Fist Way, which played at Sundance 2006 but wasn't picked up for U.S. distribution. Apatow showed it to Adam McKay, who showed it to Will Ferrell (the two being, of course, the writers of the greatest American comedy of the decade, Anchorman) , who along with McKay decided that it would be the first film produced (here, "presented") by their newly formed production company.

As seems to be happening a lot lately, I first heard about Foot Fist a few months ago at Craig Kennedy's Living in Cinema. He ended up attending a press conference and recounted his experience here. The most important thing to take from it was that yes, it was made for $70,000 by three unassuming friends from North Carolina, and no, nobody had any idea how well it would play to people who aren't friends of Ferrell, McKay, or Apatow. People like me.

Danny McBride plays Fred Simmons, an outrageously arrogant Tae Kwan Do instructor who drives a circa-1985 Ferrari and always thinks his blonde bombshell of a wife, Suzie (Mary Jane Bostic), is cheating on him (she is). Simmons naively idolizes Chuck "The Truck" Wallace (Ben Best), a washed up, boozed up action movie star. For the most part, The Foot Fist Way is just footage of Simmons insulting his students and his wife while trying to get past the fact that Wallace isn't everything he'd hoped for in a role model (there's a little more plot than that, but let's just say you won't get lost).

Some of it is funny, most of it isn't. But statements like that really mean nothing since everyone has a different sense of humor. Even though you might laugh more than I did, though, you'll have trouble convincing me that the comedy was consistently there. There's too much training footage and not enough screen time for McBride, who has some classic moments when he's able to just sit down and let loose.

The Foot Fist Way will most likely live on as a cult favorite, and it's a fine start to what may end up being a decently long career for Danny McBride (he's in both Pineapple Express and Tropic Thunder). It was made by three friends, it was shared among three friends, and I recommend watching it with three friends. Much of it you'll forget, but, depending on your humor, a few lines could be added to your "quotable-for-all-situations" list.