http://blogcritics.org/ A sinister cabal of superior bloggers on music, books, film, popular culture, politics, and technology - updated continuously. en Copyright 2005-2007 by the authors Sat, 21 Jan 2006 14:44:00 EST http://backend.userland.com/rss Blogcritics.org custom software http://blogcritics.org/ Phillip WinnSunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding. Administration0@blogcritics.org Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2006/01/21/144400.php Lucas BrachishPoetry and limericks were replaced in popular culture by television, music lyrics, and cultural consumerism long ago. But just as modern-day poets keep fightin' the good fight and Anne Carson successfully reinvigorated the epic poetic form with Autobiography of Red, scribes such as Don Davis are struggling to bring back the art of rhyming satire.Thus, Davis' One State Two State Red State Blue State: A Satirical Guide to the Political and Culture Wars is a bold attempt to render contemporary American society in rib-tickling verse. But how receptive, really, will today's society be?To quote the ever-present Sex and the City, wherein lead character Carrie Bradshaw's erudite suitor tries to turn her on to the finer aspects of metric verse: Carrie: How about I read you a little bit of my favorite poetry?Aleksandr: Please.Carrie [Reading from a Vogue magazine]: "Cocktails at Tiffany's calls for classic charm. Oscar de la Renta, sleeveless silk full-skirted dress with black patent leather bow belt." Now that is pure poetry. Ah, yes: products and fashion. That is poetry to many. Or should I say, "too many"? Red State Blue State, then, may be a change of pace that not everyone can appreciate. But for those willing to plunge into the depths of Davis' old-school comedy stylings, many chuckles await, with chapter headings along the lines of "Was Jesus Red or Blue?," "Can There Be a Culture War Without Any Culture?," "The Age of A-queer-ius," "Iraqnaphobia," and "Desperate Democrats" signaling the many topics being wittily marinated, skewered, and barbequed.If Red State Blue State has a weakness, it namely lies within its timeliness: Jokes about Bill Clinton and Al Gore are already growing dreadfully stale, pop-culture references quickly lose bite, and John Kerry is barely a memory. Once George W. Bush and the current crop of congressmen leave office, Red State Blue State will likely lose its relevance.And yet it's hard to fault the writer for this failing since it's the same trap that snares most of-the-moment cultural and political writing--becoming timeless while staying timely is near impossible. The book is funny because it's timely, but that timeliness is also what marginalizes the material since you have to understand its social and historical context and its many little news references in order to get the jokes.On the other hand, if Hilary Clinton and/or Jeb Bush run for the presidency within the next decade and the Iraq War and Al Qaeda terrorist conflicts remain unresolved--all of which seem likely--then Bush, Clinton, and Mid East gags will automatically become relevant all over again, so Red State Blue State may be able to keep some of its edge for a few years to come. That said, the best time to read the book is now, while it's still fresh. And when you're done flipping through it, it'll make a perfect little gift for your hard-to-shop-for political-fanatic compadres. One caveat: Although Red State Blue State heckles both the left- and right-wings of society, the book saves its sharpest and most frequent jabs for the conservative right (the author is a New York Blue Stater). For me, that's perfect. For namby-pamby Republicans, it might be a problem.Political affiliations aside, it's of interest to remember that Red State Blue State has antecedents in the works of famed wordsmiths like Shel Silverstein and Theodore Geisel (Dr. Seuss), who wrote rhymes for children that appealed across generations, but also worked in the realms of social and political satire. In turn, this makes me wonder if Davis should have taken a cue from those esteemed men and laced his verse with inventive drawings.Clever illustrations would make Red State Blue State a superior gift and worthy coffee table piece. The most memorable Silverstein and Geisel works, editorial cartoons, Joel Andreas' hilarious and frightening Addicted to War graphic novel, and illuminate biblical scriptures all benefit from artistic renderings juxtaposing against text, and the lack of detailed, risible art is what makes the numerous pages of Red State look more imposing and less entertaining than its lighthearted contents actually are.I'll close this review by stealing the inscription from the opening of Red State Blue State: "You can't make up anything anymore. The world itself is a satire. All you're doing is recording it." - Art BuchwaldLike Red State Blue State, that quip is witty, sad, and awfully, wryly, kinda true. Excerpts: Hardball, Crossfire, The McLaughlin Group All yelling at the top of their lungs Would the national dialogue be better served If we simply cut out their tongues? But on second thought, all this white noise Really does serve the nation After all, man can't live by smut alone He also needs mental masturbation......The media's coverage of politics Is usually like a horserace Who's up, who's down, who's leading the pack Who's falling down on their face But if an ambitious reporter attempted To boil down a candidate's views She'd find herself off the network Covering cooking on the local news......But for those truly worried About the Red/Blue Divide It's not quite time For National Suicide With erectile dysfunction And wardrobe malfunction This whole country may be obscene But one thing is clear What we all hold dear Is not Red or Blue, but the GREEN. ***This post is mirrored at Celebrity Cola: One State Two State, Red State Blue State Books42561@blogcritics.org Sat, 21 Jan 2006 14:44:00 EST http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/06/19/022619.php Lucas BrachishThe Stepford Wives (2004) Why remake an okay suspense film that was an of-its-time metaphor for women's liberation (based on a novel that was a good satiric thriller) into a meaningless, heartless, unfunny comedy with shiny stars and a once-good director? Because Hollywood has run out of ideas, that's why. Remakes and rehashes, no matter how bad, have become de rigueur. This pedantic Stepford is proof positive that the moneymen backing movies these days are all soulless robots.Sunday, Bloody Sunday (1971) An intimate and well-crafted look at a man, a woman, and their shared male lover. Innovative in its time for it's unflinching portrayal of unmarried sex and homosexuality, the film is far less scandalous now but still edgier than anything currently being shown on broadcast TV. The performances are strong and director John Schlesinger keeps a firm grip on the material, but over time it's become a slowly paced artifact of a particular era, and does not continue to astound in the same way as Schlesinger's trippy and daring Midnight Cowboy (1969), always fresh Darling (1965), and striking Billy Liar (1963).The Terminal (2004) From a story credited to Andrew Niccol (the writer-director of the underrated Gattaca) and a guy named Sacha Gervasi comes a screenplay by Gervasi and Jeff Nathanson. A screenplay that sucks. A screenplay that crash-lands all over the screen. A screenplay best described by one of the standard dictionary definitions of the word terminal itself: Causing or ending in or approaching death. Tom Hanks wastes a good accent and a lot of charisma playing a kindly foreign man stuck in an airport because of bureaucratic B.S. Partially based on a true story? Partially pulled out of a feces encrusted Pan Am lavatory, if you ask me. Telling the story of the real man and the real bureaucracy might have been interesting. Putting Tom hanks in a good movie would have been even better. But instead director Steven Spielberg does neither, opting for a flight plan that drags viewers through sickeningly sweet and ham-handed plot points, kindergarten-level dialogue, wooden acting courtesy of the gorgeous Catherine Zeta-Jones, one-note good guys, a two-note bad guy (Stanley Tucci valiantly, if briefly, tries to insert some complexity and sympathy into a character designed to make the actor look like an evil fool), zero chemistry between the majority of the leads, and nothing else. The one redeeming feature: frequent Wes Anderson star Kumar Pallana plays Gupta Rajan, the airport's janitor. Pallana has a natural pizzazz that lights up the screen and The Terminal gives him a chance to grow as an actor, but, sadly, he's trapped in the same bad movie as everyone else. George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, having lost their minds at some point in a distant galaxy, long long ago, have now hired Jeff Nathanson--the writer behind such bad-movie classics as Speed 2: Cruise Control, Rush Hour 2, and The Terminal--to write a new draft of Indiana Jones IV. They keep mentioning that he did a good job on Spielberg's Catch Me If You Can. Maybe, but I keep picking up the following radio signal in my false tooth: "Air Traffic Control to Flight Indiana Jones--you're going down. Repeat. Prepare for a crash landing."Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991) Remember when James Cameron would make more than one feature film per decade? Back when he was the master of new special effects and the top action director in the biz? A sci-fi badass? Those were good times. Fourteen years after Terminator 2 debuted in theatres and the FX and story still work like a charm, putting all the cheap knock-offs and new videogame-inspired sci-fi action flicks to shame (see: Aliens Vs. Predator, et al). The only film in the last decade even in the running for the T2 crown of best balls-out shoot-to-kill action and FX extravaganza with science-smarts is Paul Verhoeven's secretly brilliant Starship Troopers (1997). Pitch Black might get a consolation prize. That's it. So keep watching T2 while the world waits for Cameron and Verhoeven to strike again.True Romance (1993) Forgive the exclamation points, cursing, and capitalization that's about to come, but it's warranted: When Christian Slater is on, the man is fuckin' on. And here he is ON, goddammit. Toe-stomping turns by Patricia Arquette (dangerous and sexy!), Dennis Hopper (has never been better!), Val Kilmer (as a freakin' ELVIS ghost/hallucination), Gary Oldman (at his scary/funny/crazy best), Brad Pitt (goddamn hilarious as a pothead loser), Christopher Walken (holy shit he's evil!), Bronson Pinchot (a sick, brilliant turn as a sycophant cokehead), Samuel L. Jackson (blink and you'll miss the Main Man doing his thing), Michael Rapaport (good stuff), and James Gandolfini (in an early role). Director Tony Scott doesn't lose track of the story in the midst of the all the dazzling images and shattering cuts, as he often does with his Hollywood blockbusters. He really seems to cherish the material here, and it shows. Quentin Tarantino wrote the acerbic, violent, gut-laugh-funny screenplay with an uncredited assist by Pulp Fiction co-writer Roger Avary. Keen and obscure pop culture references, movie tributes, comic-book shout-outs, and frequent Badlands references pepper this truly spicy dish.Woman Under the Influence (1974) Great, raw, naturalistic performances, but John Cassavetes (in writer-director mode) is definitely an acquired taste. Bits of plot have to be carefully deciphered from the cascading dialogue and hyperrealism that reigns supreme. Actors Peter Falk, Gena Rowlands, and company are hypnotizing, but if you're sleepy at all you'll be so hypnotized you'll pass out, so have some coffee and pay attention to the detailed work of acting maestros in their element.The Woodsman (2004) Superb acting keeps you on the edge of your seat throughout this sad, twisted tale of a man battling his desires and tainted past.***FROM: Celebrity Cola: A slipshod guide to the universe.Reviews also archived at: Celebrity Cola: A Movie Review Bonanza (June 2005) Video31265@blogcritics.org Sun, 19 Jun 2005 02:26:19 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/06/19/021436.php Lucas BrachishNapoleon Dynamite (2004) Writer-Director Wes Anderson has only made four feature films, none of them blockbusters, but his style is already affecting a new generation of filmmakers. Writer-director Jared Hess, a decade younger than Anderson's mere 36 years, instantly jumped to the forefront of Anderson acolytes with Napoleon Dynamite. Warping Anderson's penchant for J.D. Salinger-like too-smart-for-their-own-good extended-family dynamics and Hal Ashby-inspired deadpan comedy reaped from heightened realism of the eccentrically ordinary, Hess balloons Anderson's loving set-and-costume-design-as-running-gags modus operandi into an anachronistic smorgasbord, drops the IQ levels of his eccentric protagonists, inserts sketch-routine type jests and absurd-but-comedy-rich situations, stirs in some Alexander Payne circa Election teen hijinks, and lets his inordinately inspired cast steal the show, all while retaining the Anderson-like sub-themes of sadness, loneliness, and rebellious iconoclasm. The result doesn't work as powerfully or on as many levels of consciousness as Anderson's films, but its freewheeling nature provides pleasures that Anderson's increasingly controlled comedic universes sometimes miss.North Dallas Forty (1979) Easily one of the top 50 greatest sports films ever made, and probably the best about professional U.S. football. It's got the dog-eared grit, testosterone vitality, and anti-establishment forward drive of writer-director Oliver Stone's masterpieces (Platoon, Wall Street, etc.), but Stone's own longwinded take on football, Any Given Sunday, doesn't hold a candle to this stadium rouser from director Ted Kotcheff and writer Peter Gent. Back when pro football had first really come into it's own as a major U.S. pastime, but before it became as corporate and mass-produced as it is today, in a time when a lot of shaggy white guys dominated the sport, when performance-enhancing drugs, painkillers, and steroids where growing in popularity, when rebellion was in the air and sports salaries were skyrocketing, in an era when the jailhouse football yarn The Longest Yard was a smash hit, this was the time of the troubled North Dallas football team (a fictionalized account of the 1970s Dallas Cowboys). Conventional sport-film plot twists are replaced with realistic drama and gallows humor, and Nick Nolte is in top Method acting, Brando- invigorated form as an aging, decrepit player.The Raisin in the Sun (1961) Sidney Poitier, young and charismatic, dominates scene after scene in director Daniel Petrie's powerful film version of Lorraine Hansberry's classic play. The supporting cast is grand, and the tale's dueling themes of motherhood, manhood, racism, family values, love, anger, and redemption intertwine with emotionally shattering results. The movie cannot shake its theatre roots and modest budget--it's obviously a play, grounded in one location, not cinematic (the camera placement and editing are uninspired), with performances walking a razor's edge between realism and sharpened theatricality--but the small, confined apartment set radiates a sense of home and claustrophobia that eventually enhances the dynamics of the conviction-filled ensemble, benefiting the tightly written, rhythmic script and immersing viewers into the lives of the Younger family.Shadow of a Doubt (1943) A cute film about a spunky kid grows creepier and creepier as Alfred Hitchcock pulls strands of suspense from out of the darkness that lurks in every mind and every room. The acting and pacing are dated, and the visuals are not as finely finessed as in later Hitchcock efforts, but do not doubt this flick's ability to summon nightmares.Shark Tale (2004) A good film for little kids, Shark Tale can't stand up to adult scrutiny nor live up to the smash hit it's desperately trying to capitalize on, Pixar's Finding Nemo. DreamWorks drowns by substituting a whale-sized laundry list of celebrity names for true voice-over talent, fresh jokes, and a captivating story, leaving this peppy tale smelling like two-week old tuna sitting in the sun. Leads Will Smith and Renée Zellweger gamely swim through sappy dialogue; Jack Black (the friendly shark) is the only celeb who bothers creating an original voice and emotional undertone (undertow?) for his character; Angelina Jolie is hooked into a cliché; Ziggy Marley, Doug E. Doug, Michael Imperioli, and Vincent Pastore are given one-dimensional canned characters; Peter Falk and Katie Couric are wasted on quick-fry gags. Fast-forward to the Robert De Niro and Martin Scorsese scenes for some undercooked fun. Call it Finding Nada.Shaun of the Dead (2004) Drop-dead funny. Even if you hate horror films, you'll still find yourself laughing at this shtick-fest. And if you love horror movies, a thousand inside jokes await you. Lively, piquant characters romp through relevant relationship humor, pub jokes, and day-in-the-life farce before getting chased down by zombies that are both comical and terrifying. The genre transitions are smooth (not an easy feat), the comedic timing excellent. Think The Office meets Monty Python meets 28 Days Later... and, obviously, Dawn of the Dead. Most shocking of all: It's a great date movie.Sideways (2004) Can director Alexander Payne do no wrong? He strikes vintage in film after film. Sideways isn't as laugh-out-loud and dazzlingly mean-spirited as Election or as heart wrenching as About Schmidt, but within its European art-film rhythms is an excellence that's hard to describe. Paul Giamatti, Thomas Haden Church, Virginia Madsen, Sandra Oh, and Marylouise Burke breath four-dimensional life (length, width, depth, and time) into fully realized characterizations. Sideways was overhyped as both a knee-slapping comedy and mind-blowing drama--what makes the film remarkable is not the laughs or tears, which are sparse, but instead the fact that you go away feeling you know the characters as well as any friend you've ever had. They lodge into your mind like good times almost forgotten, their melancholy-mirthful story becoming part of the fabric of your memory. Sideways calls to mind Woody Allen when the Woodman is operating with a full glass, although it doesn't quite match the very best bottles of vintage Woody. Give Payne some time: His skills are aging nicely.Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow (2004) Looks good . . . tastes bland. Riffing on 1940s science-hero movie serials, monster movies, film noir, old-school sci-fi, World War II propaganda films and newsreels, His Girl Friday, and the 1950s Adventures of Superman TV show, writer-director Kerry Conran seems possessed by an abundance of swell ideas. Combine cool concepts with crazy-good computer FX skills and a talented cast (Gwyneth Paltrow, Jude Law, Giovanni Ribisi, Michael Gambon, Ling Bai, Omid Djalili, and a reanimated Laurence Olivier) and you get a supa dupa copasetic movie, right? Well, sure, as long as the acting isn't stiff, the pacing dull, the emotional arcs nonexistent, the plot points predictable, the dialogue laughable. . . . The moral of the story: Directorial auteurs and computer guys can have great ideas, but they need to honestly assess their skills and consider hiring a writer and strong-willed editor when it comes to crafting the screenplay and piecing together the final product. Conran even makes George Lucas' half-assed but potential-filled Star Wars prequel scripts seem accomplished. In other words, this movie is a beautiful, witty, talented damsel in distress, and a superhero needs to fly in and save it from choking on its own nonsense.***FROM: Celebrity Cola: A slipshod guide to the universe.Reviews also archived at: Celebrity Cola: A Movie Review Bonanza (June 2005) Video31264@blogcritics.org Sun, 19 Jun 2005 02:14:36 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/06/19/020201.php Lucas BrachishGarden State (2004) The ghost of iconoclast director Hal Ashby permeates writer-director-star Zach Braff's aesthetic even more than it informs auteur Wes Anderson. This is not a bad thing. Ashby is an oft-forgotten genius, and Braff builds on his techniques to establish himself as more than a mere sitcom actor, elevating his status to that of a sensitive leading man and documenter of elusive details and ignored lives. Exquisite imagery, delightful cinematography, and skillful gags are artfully deployed in this gentle, unassuming love story. Peter Sarsgaard gives the potentially typical funny-slacker-pothead character layers of depth and sad appeal; Natalie Portman sparkles in a way she hasn't since she was an astonishing child in Léon: The Professional; Ian Holm is pitch-perfect, as usual.The Great Gatsby (1974) An all-star cast and crew--including Robert Redford, Mia Farrow, Bruce Dern, Karen Black, and Sam Waterston acting, Francis Ford Coppola writing, Jack Clayton directing, and legendary Douglas Indiana Jones Trilogy Slocombe shooting--somehow manage to turn F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic Great American Novel into a turgid, stultifying experience. The dazzling stars, cinematography, and set/costume design should be captivating, but poor Clayton and in-his-prime Coppola dig Gatsby a deep grave in the cemetery of boredom just the same. Although the movie is technically loyal to the novel, watching the film is so numbing you'll never want to read the book, which is a dirt-dog dirty shame. Rumor has it that Coppola only had three weeks to write the screenplay after Truman Capote's draft was rejected, and the Patton scribe/Godfather director was not yet enough of a moviemaking titan to demand more time or a shot at directing the flick himself; very regrettable. The film's critical and financial drubbing left Clayton in a funk that kept him from directing for nine years. Gatsby is a bold undertaking, to be sure, but unmistakably a resounding, somnambulating failure on all fronts.Hud (1963) Paul Newman was never as good of an action star as his mega-cool rival Steve McQueen, but he consistently beat McQueen at the game of artistic triumph. Nor have the principal heirs to Newman's status as an artistically accomplished, bankable, über-manly pretty-boy superstar--namely, Robert Redford and Tom Cruise, and, somewhat less successfully, Keanu Reeves, George Clooney, Brad Pitt, the fallen Kevin Costner, and wannabes Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, etc.--ever eclipsed his ability to balance big budget popcorn successes with numerous nuanced performances in commendable, unforgettable films. Hud is one such film. Based on Larry McMurtry's novel Horseman, Pass By, and sometimes described as a rethinking of Rebel Without a Cause set in a 1960s update of the Old West, this revisionist modern Western is also reminiscent of the McMurtry scribed The Last Picture Show and Newman's later performance in Nobody's Fool. In its detailed depiction of quiet desperation, small-town misery, loner rebellion, interfamily strife, and coming of age in changing times--rife with societal subtext that's still relevant today--Hud stands tall, drinking viewers under the table with poetic depression.I Heart Huckabees (2004) Whimsical, daring, stupefying. A bizarre comedy about philosophical and metaphysical questions. Naomi Watts? Delicious. Dustin Hoffman? He's back from the Void of Forgettable Roles. Lily Tomlin? Shows she should be in more films. Isabelle Huppert? Dead-on. Jude Law's American accent is a dud, but he's winning just the same, even while playing an unlikable character. Mark Wahlberg, horrific in nearly everything (with Three Kings and Boogie Nights being strong exceptions), shines. Jason Schwartzman proves he's got something to offer other than just being the guy from the top-draw Rushmore, being the guy related to famous people, and being the guy who plays drums in a so-so, danceable band. David O. Russell--seemingly blacklisted from Hollywood for being an egocentric prick that picks on actors, extras, and crewmembers and battled George Clooney in a very public display of dislike--proves why he deserves not just a comeback but also a new film deal every year. No one makes movies like Russell, and he continues to surprise.I, Robot (2004) A disappointing paint-by-numbers action flick from director Alex Proyas, the mind behind the astounding Dark City (and, admittedly, some not-so-astounding other films). Isaac Asimov's seminal science fiction and Proyas' research into modern robotics and futurist theory should have resulted in a mind-bending exploration of the near future and the possibilities for mankind. There's a computer science term called GIGO, which stands for Garbage In, Garbage Out, meaning that a computer can only output quality if quality is first entered. All signs pointed toward quality being entered into this film, so why the garbage result? Sure, laser-gun battles and action-film set pieces are expected in a big-budget extravaganza such as this, but did it all have to be so mindless and typical? Will Smith--a professed sci-fi geek and a Hollywood powerhouse--could've helped protect the visions of Asimov and Proyas (assuming he had a vision), but instead he seems content to shout and squint through this mildly entertaining shoot 'em up. It's smarter than your typical Hollywood summer-action crap and has some great special effects, but opportunities are missed at every turn of the gear.Knife in the Water (Nóz w wodzie, 1963) Roman Polanski skillfully manifests early Hitchcock-level tension in this low-budget thriller. A good example of how an intense film can be made with limited funds and a small cast. It's not Polanski's best by a mile, but he later set the bar high for himself with Cul-de-sac, Repulsion, Chinatown, Rosemary's Baby, Frantic, The Pianist, etc., so comparing this early work to his better-financed successes may not be fair.The Motorcycle Diaries (Diarios de motocicleta, 2004) Beautiful, inspiring, and races right along. The portrait of the revolutionary (Ché Guevara) when he still thought he could heal the people of the world without murdering his enemies. Gael García Bernal and Rodrigo De la Serna are glorious as the best friends seeking adventure. Walter Salles turns the memoirs of Ernesto Guevara de la Serna and Alberto Granado into a cinematic delight. You'll forget you're reading subtitles and find yourself transported into a different time and culture. A magnificent achievement: true-life stories are rarely this well told.***FROM: Celebrity Cola: A slipshod guide to the universe.Reviews also archived at: Celebrity Cola: A Movie Review Bonanza (June 2005) Video31261@blogcritics.org Sun, 19 Jun 2005 02:02:01 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/06/19/015014.php Lucas BrachishThe Bourne Supremacy (2004) Shaken, stirred, and best served cold, The Bourne Supremacy is the best spy thriller of the year. Like spymaster John Le Carré on an amphetamine revelry, Robert Ludlum's novels create a world as thrilling as James Bond's but laced with intriguing blasts of reality and clandestine doses of philosophy. Where modern secret-agent flicks have mostly become routine exercises in beating the bad guys with cool gadgets, Matt Damon's interpretation of Bourne gives new meaning to the phrase "intelligence community," with the Bourne franchise's real intellect, scorching thrills, and emotional relevance fighting the good fight against Hollywood's current cold war against new ideas and common sense. Director Doug Liman got smart (again) and deftly incited a mini-revolution with The Bourne Identity; new helmer Paul Greengrass vigorously builds on Liman's work while continuing his mission of assassinating spy movie clichés. The supporting cast is superb: Brian Cox, Joan Allen, Chris Cooper, et al infiltrate life into even their smallest moments onscreen. Julia Stiles' character seemed too young and ultimately unnecessary in the first flick, but here she begins to shine. Franka Potente's shocking early exit from the proceedings smuggles the sexual tension out of the plot, but the loss of her character is needed to fuel Bourne's unhidden rage. We can only hope more directors with a license-to-greenlight will cast this first-class actress in scads of films without subterfuge or delay.Claire's Knee (Le Genou de Claire, 1970) Eric Rohmer's movies attract viewers with erotic posters and tantalizing story fixations. But it's all a ruse: Alternatingly thoughtful, philosophical, mumbled, lingering, lackadaisical, intellectual, quotidian, feverish, solipsistic, and seemingly never-ending dialogue rules the day. Watching a Rohmer flick is like reading a good essay while simultaneously eavesdropping on a couple in a café. Revealing, engaging, sometimes boring, often a little dirty--adjectives pop to mind, but breathtaking images do not. Claire's Knee is classic Rohmer and as affecting as his films come. If you're up for Claire, the reward will be a film that slips into your subconscious and subtly arouses your imagination, if only you can stay awake.Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story (2004) Like a typical SNL sketch, moments of absolute hilarity are mixed with abject stupidity and the joke is stretched out way too long. Quotable scenes are plentiful, the cast is solid and inventive, and audiences who have seen too many movies like this before are left feeling like they just ate a bowl of junk food.Donnie Darko (2001) Teen angst hasn't been this cool since Christian Slater and Winona Ryder obliterated the screen in Heathers. Enchanting, ambitious, haunting, and only a little ridiculous, Donnie Darko announces writer-director Richard Kelly as a massive talent, actor Jake Gyllenhaal as a complex performer, and faded star Patrick Swayze as someone we shouldn't forget. Skip the competent theatrical version and go straight to the masterful director's cut. The philosophical side of Philip K. Dick's science fiction has always been largely ignored in the adaptations of his films, but here Kelly captures the rarified mindset of Dick without having to plunder any of his writing. Instead, the director creates a brand new world that mystifies and captivates. For both good and ill, Darko leaves a thousand ideas and hundreds of unanswered questions in the viewer's brain--a feeling that's aggravating, exciting, and undeniably different.Faces (1968) A hallmark of ultra-low-budget indie cinema, Faces remains avant-garde after nearly 40 years. Ignoring the gutted production values, one can appreciate the fierce performances and innovative directorial techniques of John Cassavetes.Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004) Despite the pro-socialist/anti-Republican bent, Michael Moore's film hits too many targets of every political stripe to truly be called pure propaganda. Fahrenheit collects crucial news snippets, contrasts divergent factoids, presents overlooked data, and raises plausible conspiracies in a deceptively humorous, easy-to-digest, time-capsule-like filmic journey through modern American politics. A must-watch film for anyone interested in the State of the Union--even viewers who disagree with the filmmaker's vantage should give Fahrenheit a chance, lest they miss important talking points that will continue to affect the evolution of society. ***FROM: Celebrity Cola: A slipshod guide to the universe.Reviews also archived at: Celebrity Cola: A Movie Review Bonanza (June 2005) Video31259@blogcritics.org Sun, 19 Jun 2005 01:50:14 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/06/19/014221.php Lucas BrachishAfter The Sunset (2004) Director Brett Ratner brings his expertise in creating clichés to the forefront of this silly, pointless, annoying flick. The only highlights are Woody Harrelson's engaging, cartoon-like performance and Naomie Harris' fresh, likable take on a one-note character. The sexy Salma Hayek and square-jawed Pierce Brosnan have zero chemistry and sleepwalk through the unspeakable plot.The Aviator (2004) Director Martin Scorsese can't make this bird fly faster than a standard biopic, leaving innovation at the airport. But the soaring visuals and eager performances add lift to an intriguing true story.Alfie (2004) Stripped of the grit and reality of the original, this too-pretty remake is much like its lothario protagonist: beautiful, smooth talking, sexy, and ultimately confused and hollow. As forgetful as the most vacant one-night-stand you've ever had, a gorgeous and talented cast is wasted in one well-shot scene after the next.The Anniversary Party (2001) A small film with big stars and a modest payoff. One could easily accuse the celebs participating in (and making) this movie of supreme navel-gazing and self-reflexiveness, but the plot pats no one on the back. Instead, it's a stark and blistering look at Hollywood life. The plot meanders, but the crisp characterizations are not easily forgotten.The Brown Bunny (2004) Egomaniac wunderkind Vincent Gallo creates a rabbit story where the Watership doesn't go Down but daring indie starlet Chloë Sevigny infamously does. The hopping-mad scandal and backlash surrounding the film obscure the fact that emotional truth is leaping through this artistic briar patch.Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (2004) Director Beeban Kidron misses the edge and falls off the building. Hugh Grant and Colin Firth are at their sardonic best, but the script is messier than Bridget Jones' dieting habits, plot points from the original film being tossed through a spin cycle like dirty panties best thrown out. Leaving viewers with a bad-movie-binge hangover, Renée Zellweger tarnishes her skyrocketing career by turning her previously plucky portrayal of Jones into a running fat-dumb-clueless-blonde joke. A better title would have been Four Bad Jokes and a Funeral for a Femme Franchise.***FROM: Celebrity Cola: A slipshod guide to the universe.Reviews also archived at: Celebrity Cola: A Movie Review Bonanza (June 2005) Video31258@blogcritics.org Sun, 19 Jun 2005 01:42:21 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/02/19/225916.php Lucas BrachishDespite dozens of respectful, worshipful reviews, I've been hearing very mixed reactions on the street for the new Eastwood film, Million Dollar Baby, and some friends of mine who went to the premiere say the first two acts are pretty standard boxing-movie/sport-movie stuff... but with the third act, the plot makes an unexpected turn and the film takes things in a new direction, with Eastwood's character stealing the show, turning in a bravura performance.If the buzz is true, it's surprising Eastwood's camp isn't pushing harder for a supporting actor Oscar nom for the old Clint. Or, to put it in more exact terms: Despite a movie flawed by clichés, Eastwood's acting is surprisingly transcendent, and yet it's his directing and the solid performances by Hilary Swank and Morgan Freeman that are getting all the acclaim. Perhaps he's just being modest about his histrionic skills, and biding his time for a knock-out punch in a thespian category... Surely he won't land too many directing awards for this one.[Update: After writing this, Eastwood nabbed Academy Award nods for both Best Picture and Best Actor, so perhaps the Oscar campaign for his acting work was stronger than the Million Dollar Baby industry trade ads led me to believe. Also, he won a Golden Globe for best director, so despite my prediction, the man's getting trophies even for directing work that's arguably less impressive than such previous efforts as Unforgiven and Mystic River. But then again, Renée Zellweger was nominated this year for a best actress Golden Globe for Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason--quite possibly one of the most vigorously soulless films ever committed to celluloid--so we can't take the Globes too seriously.]Also, I can't help but suspect that Kevin Spacey made his new Bobby Darin biopic (Beyond the Sea) because he's one of these triple-threat actors that has a lot of pent up anger about the fact that they can do everything (sing! dance! act!), and yet they're just seen as being the same as all the other actors (e.g., Brad Pitt or Al Pacino can't sing and dance like Spacey, and Spacey wants the world to know it). In every interview, I can just see Spacey thinking I can outperform 98% of modern actors, dammit, and all those embarrassing years of dance lessons shouldn't go to waste!In addition to the flick, by doing a 12-city tour as Bobby Darin, Spacey solidifies this talent and makes it real--he has to be a really awesome song-and-dance man to pull this off live in front of big audiences, which is something that today's musical-movie stars can't do (just think of Richard Gere and Renée Zellweger trying to do their Chicago stuff live--they wouldn't hack it, because the only reason they were able to make Zellweger look like a great singer-dancer in the film was through rapid cutting and massive re-recording).So, it's totally an ego thing--which becomes even more evident with every Beyond the Sea article I read, because Spacey seems to have his entire cast and crew trained to repeat the party line of "Kevin Spacey is the greatest actor-filmmaker of all time. He was directing the film, producing the film, writing the film, editing the film, shooting the film, dancing better than Gene Kelly, singing better than Sinatra, and acting better than De Niro ALL AT THE SAME FRIGGIN' TIME. Please worship this man." And then the reporter will interview Spacey, who'll say something like, "I'm a very humble man, so I would never imply that I'm an genius and egomaniac, but have I mentioned that I'm better than the real Bobby Darin? I'm a god. Watch my incredible performance as the feisty science-soldier in 'Outbreak' for proof. Lick the ground I walk on. Now."Of course, with all the former models and semi-talented pretty faces making beaucoup bucks as "actors", the multi-talented Spacey has every right to flaunt what he's got. The fact that he's 20 years too old to play Bobby Darin, coupled with his weakness for melodrama, being the only real negative against him.I've been flying around the country a lot lately, which has lead to my watching some films I might not have normally seen: I was not impressed by Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story, although it had a couple of okay jokes (I liked the pirate and the pizza-down-the-pants, but after this mostly mediocre effort, the atrocious Duplex, and the other laughless clunkers Ben Stiller has churned out lately, he's now highly ranked on my shit list). I'm embarrassed to admit that I laughed all the way through The Hot Chick, although I prefer 1999's Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo when it comes to Rob Schneider films (a dirty, secret, guilty pleasure). I, Robot was disappointing considering director Alex Proyas' previous sci-fi effort, Dark City, a perfect film; the FX in the lower-budget Dark City somehow looked better than the videogame-like FX found the expensive I, Robot, with its cheesy-action-movie machine-gun ending... bler....However, the antidote to the bad plane-movies came with two new art-house flicks recently screened in NY:The Woodsman is slow and often depressing, but the performances are extraordinary, and the direction is poetic. Kevin Bacon's portrayal is flawless, as is the work by all of the supporting actors (check out the little girl in the park--her scene with Bacon at the end of the film will burn itself into your psyche). After the screening I attended, Kevin Bacon and his wife/co-star, Kyra Sedgwick, had a lovely, laid-back conversation with the audience. It's always nice when actors turn out to be intelligent even off-script. And it's even nicer when you've actually enjoyed their film, so you don't have to bite your tongue the entire time, desperately trying not to blurt out what sordid hacks they are. Bacon and Sedgwick are a grounded, class act--onscreen and off.The Motorcycle Diaries is incredible. Truly mesmerizing. You can't watch this film without feeling the growing urge to learn Spanish, travel across South America, befriend lepers, pick up hot Latin chicks, get a funny best friend with a motorcycle, and join the Communist Party. Now I can't wait for the Steven Soderbergh/Benicio Del Toro/ Terrence Malick Che feature, since The Motorcycle Diaries (Diarios de motocicleta) is the perfect prequel for the story of Ernesto "Fuser" Guevara de la Serna becoming the heroic, militant Che (Ché) Guevara and setting off on a whirlwind tour of revolution.Then, at a hotel, I saw The House of Sand and Fog, which was pretty gut wrenching, especially the third act, when everything goes horribly wrong just when you think everything is about to get nice and cutesy. You know, usually with a film like this at some point the ethnic family and the white people all realize how much they have in common and they reach an agreement that makes everyone happy. So as you watch the film, after 90 minutes of seeing these characters suffer, you're waiting for the breath of fresh air at the end--you're thinking, you're hoping, you're wrong. The ending is more devastating than everything that comes before. It's not a perfect film, however, as it can be a bit melodramatic and manipulative at times (making up for this is some brief nudity from the eternally hot Jennifer Connelly).Final notes:Director Beeban Kidron's Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason sucked the big one, making the first Bridget Jones look like a masterwork classic comedy bonanza compared to this crap fest.Indie phenom Napoleon Dynamite was a stylistic knockoff of Wes Anderson's work, but it was devilishly funny nonetheless; and it's one of those rare films that grow funnier with repeated viewings.The Aussie rock comedy Garage Days, from director Alex Proyas (the auteur behind the flawless, mind-bending Dark City) has a slick visual pallet, but the character high jinks quickly grow grating and the plot fails to captivate for more than minutes at a time; however, points have to be given for the ballsy choice of giving the band their comeuppance at the film's conclusion.Another Australian film, Dirty Deeds, stumbles upon moments of brilliance while lampooning the American Mafia genre; star Bryan Brown is engaging, as always, and the movie has real originality and cinemagraphic panache, despite a smattering of clichés and plot potholes.And Brit hit Shaun of the Dead is drop-dead hilarious, but it's best watched after seeing a couple of your favorite zombie movies and Danny Boyle's London-based masterstroke, 28 Days Later; that way you'll get more of the jokes, although the film is bloody amusing regardless. ***FROM: Celebrity Cola: A slipshod guide to the universe.Related post: The Aviator Review; Plus DiCaprio & Alda in Person; and Notes on Kill BillAlso archived at: Celebrity Cola: Movie Reviews and News (December 2004), along with a definition of "beaucoup," the spelling of Bobby Darin vs. Bobby Darrin, a short history of el Ché Ernesto Guevara Serna (and the meaning of his various nicknames, including Fuser), and links related to all the movies above. Video25726@blogcritics.org Sat, 19 Feb 2005 22:59:16 EST