You know, I am aware of that whole quality not quantity sort of rationale, however, as the amount of films I watch surpasses the amount of time I have to pontificate poetically about each and every one, to catch up seems a bit daunting. Hence, my DVD reviews will be anything but extraordinary, and in most cases, will read as trite and unimpressive. And hopefully I can get to them soon! Otherwise, here's the rundown on some recent releases. C'est la vie. L'amour, l'amour!
Observe & Report (2009) -- Destined to be one of the more misunderstood films of 2009, the new black comedy starring Seth Rogen and my gal Anna Faris is right up my alley. Dark, strange, and somewhat disturbing, I can see why the film isn't resonating with the majority of Rogen's fanbase. Rogen plays a pathetic, delusional mall cop suffering from bi-polar disorder and some seriously disturbing grandiose ideations, and who is in love with Brandi (Faris), the make-up kiosk girl. An anonymous flasher has been exposing himself to young women in the mall parking lot and eventually targets Brandi (who Faris imbues with all her insane talent as a horrifically vacuous tramp). Ray Liotta stars as the detective called in on the case, much to the chagrin of Rogen. As the film progresses, Rogen's mental state unravels rapidly, causing some funny, though realistically dark scenarios. Observe & Report has been compared to Taxi Driver (1974), and rightly so. A small time nobody with delusions of grandeur? Oh, for sure. I'd say the limited course of Faris and Rogen's relationship is even comparable to the Cybil Shepard/Robert De Niro dynamics in Taxi Driver. Whereas most of the empty-headed comedies from Rogen and co. may be entertaining, I found this new effort tinged with a different energy--relating to the desperation and the dark nature of a human existence trapped inside that microcosmic cess pool humans refer to as the shopping mall. Celia Weston co-stars as Rogen's very funny but very alcoholic mother. Three scenes that made me fall in love with the film: the infamous date rape scene with Anna Faris; the scene in slow motion of Rogen chasing the flasher to a cover of the Pixies, and the scene directly preceding it involving what Rogen does to the flasher. I'm saddened by the poor box office results as it's truly refreshing to see something a bit more challenging in main stream cinemas. The film is destined, I believe, to become a cult favorite, with numerous discussions to come. A line from the film that many critics have pointed out sums up the film, "I thought this was going to be funny, but it's just kind of sad," describes the film perfectly---what's more sad is Americans are unable to enjoy the surprise and genius of it. Directed by Jody Hill of The Foot Fist Way (2006).
Adventureland (2009) -- Another recent comedy I wasn't expecting to enjoy based on how I felt about director Greg Mottola's previous over-the-top 2007 comedy Superbad, was this latest offering starring Jesse Eisenberg (of The Squid and the Whale - 2005 and Roger Dodger - 2002) and an actress I had written off as dull and tweeny, Kristen Stewart of Twilight (2008) and The Messengers (2007). I found Eisenberg and Stewart's chemistry awkward, realistic and heartfelt, set inside the endless possibilities of a post-college graduate's late 80's summer in a second rate amusement park. The majority of the film is extremely loveable and nostalgic--only faltering in the last ten minutes or so when some awkward chords are struck when Eisenberg follows Stewart to NYC. Perhaps this could have played better with just a little more time spent on developing their situation at this point, because as it is, the ending, though clearly showing us the couple as tenuous at best, still feels a little rushed and formulaic. I have a feeling my Kristen Stewart irritation will return once the Twilight sequel is spooged all over our cinema screens, however, for the moment, she's starring in an excellent little movie called Adventureland. Ryan Reynolds stars as himself (not in name). And I hate that goddamn Amadeus song, too.
The Mysteries of Pittsburgh (2008) -- What happens when a Pulitzer prize winning author's novel is adapted by a hack director? As prime evidence, this film. Immediately after leaving the theater I was all set to give Rawson Marshall Thurber credit for attempting to adapt Michael Chabon's first novel, but then I remembered that Wonder Boys (2000) was also a Chabon novel adapted for the screen and that was excellent. And directed by the experienced Curtis Hanson (who has his own missteps, but also gave us The Hand that Rocks the Cradle - 1992 and LA Confidential - 1997). So, maybe the director best known for Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story (2004) should have let someone else adapt Chabon's prose---but alas, it's all tainted with this miserable snoozer. As has been pointed out, the film plays something like a schizophrenic at a brothel---too many voices trying to spearfuck too many themes. The film has been described as a "bisexual coming-of-age story" concerning the exploits of post-graduate mobster's son in late 80's Pittsburgh. However, the bisexual angle is both unbelievable and feels like another element just thrown into the mixture. It's like meth--one more household chemical in the mix doesn't really matter, does it? Our main character, Art Bechstein, (languidly played by Jon Foster) has decided to avoid any responsibility his last summer of freedom before taking a job his estranged gangland dad (Nick Nolte --- looking like Fats, the evil ventriloquist dummy from Magic) has lined up for him. Taking a job at the Book Barn for the summer, Art begins sleeping with his poodley, tramp-gone-to-seed boss, Phlox (lovely name), played by the underrated Mena Suvari. Meanwhile, Art is introduced to Jane, played by the beautiful (and sometimes nondescript) Sienna Miller. Jane happens to have a crazy, gambling bisexual boyfriend, played with reckless abandon by the usually sterling Peter Sarsgaard. Miller's character is dull, passive, underdeveloped and stupid--there's absolutely no chemistry between her and Foster or her and Sarsgaard. The same goes for the eventual gay sex scene with Foster & Sarsgaard---it seems forced and unrealistic. Sarsgaard isn't half bad, but his messy bird-nest hair and dingy ill-fitting 80's regalia makes me think he'd smell something mighty strong. Kudos to Sarsgaard---this is the third film I've seen him playing an unabashed gay. But before you see this catch him in one of those films, Kinsey (2004) and The Dying Gaul (2005). From boy growing up, to three way bi-triangle, to mobster fueled gambling revenge---the film doesn't spend the right moments on any of it's major themes. If you want to see Miss Sienna in something good, catch Steve Buscemi's excellent remake of Theo Van Gogh's Interview (2007).
The Haunting In Connecticut (2009) -- As opposed to that more infamous haunting in Vermont (or even New Hampshire) the one haunting in the tiny little New England state, Connecticut, doesn't seem anywhere thrilling enough to make a film about. I was happy to see Virginia Madsen's career resurrected with her lovely performance in Sideways (2004), but several of her next projects, such as that awful thing called Firewall (2006) or The Number 23 (2007) will stand as dots on her resume that will come to resemble some of her 1980's work. Remember Gotham (1988) or Slam Dance (1987)? Ewww, I know. Anyhow, that one haunting in Connecticut seems more a point of reference and nothing more. It's like taking a true WWII account about the Holocaust and saying a brave team of Jewish German giraffes successfully challenged a group of Nazi officers in a minor standoff. To read of the supposed actual events sent more chills up my spine than this gobbleygook misadventure. Though I never really cared for Martin Donovan, his turn as a recovering alcoholic does provide some brief moments of hilarity in your otherwise standard demons not leaving a creepy old house motif. Oh, and then there's that proverbial good demon/ghost child that Elias Koteas (as a creepy cancer-stricken priest that either has ulterior motives for the Kyle Gallner character or just simply too much time on his hands) unwittingly removes from the house. Anyhow, if I was haunted by demons and the ensuing cinematic depiction was deemed worthy of a PG-13 rating, I'd be a bit annoyed. Oh man, you wouldn't believe the awful time I had with them demons! Thankfully they weren't seriously intent on destroying my soul, as would be required for an R rating. Children under the age of 17 must hear my story--they must learn and not be afraid of the quasi-harmful entities. Oh Virginia! Don't become like your brother.
Obsessed (2009) Speaking of shamelessly censoring a movie to land a PG-13 rating is the new Beyonce vehicle, a somewhat heavy rip off of late 1980's scorned woman thematics. Painfully obvious are parallels with Fatal Attraction (1987), but I would even point toward a borrowed sequence from The War of the Roses (1989) as well. Idris Elba ("The Wire") stars as an asset manager in a successful company that seems to have an attraction for lady secretaries. Temps are great-they're like migrant workers. He even married his last secretary, played with pigeonholed alacrity by Beyonce (Knowles, here--for the res). The couple is shown to be extremely happy together, so much so that Elba frowns on Beyonce going to school (even though she has questionable grammatical skills and what looks like a zapped fright wig waving all around like a lion's mane). But Ms. Knowles calls the shots, becoming alarmed at the news of another female temp stalking the office corridors like a cougar in heat. Elba is not allowed to have any females working under him. Healthy, healthy dynamics. I love that children are taught that these are normal and healthy relationship issues. Of course, Ali Larter as the mentally unbalanced blonde perp does encompass the "look like the innocent flower but be the serpent underneath"--which is much too literary to apply to a film like this, but I try. Of course, we never understand what exactly Larter's motivations are. Does she just like black men? Why does she become so fixated on Elba when his flirtation is very minor and seemingly appropriate? It's just a bit of a stretch since they've never slept together. Of course, these are all elements that never 'need' to make sense when your director only does television work and the only reason people are going to see the film is for the limited scorned wife played by pop music's current icon. The cat fight between the ladies is fun---but in the end, is unsatisfying. Perhaps a more independent production would have been able to play with some of the film's racial tensions/angles. But even the company employing Elba seemingly has no women in positions of power, perhaps the price paid to have a smarmy gay man as secretary lifer instead. The film, as would be expected, is full of holes. Beyond Larter's campy performance, it's one of those films you wondered why anyone bothered with at all. And then of course, there's the almost cameo of Christine Lahti that leaves some of us scratching our heads---though the scene where she hands Larter's diary depicting explicit sexual scenarios over to Elba and they obviously can't read them out loud due to the PG-13 rating was worth a chortle.
The Soloist (2009) --- I don't want to be too harsh with Joe Wright's newest feature, The Soloist, starring Kiera Knightley as a 40 year old black man with schizophrenia that just loves to play the violin AND the cello (oh wait, that IS Jamie Foxx!) Yes, the best part of Wright's newest feature, is, sadly, that he didn't cast England's blandest waif in the production. The other best part was the film's preview. I saw that preview multiple times over the span of the last few months (apparently this was supposed to open in November 2008), and the preview nearly brought tears to my eyes several times. The film, however, did not. Additonally, the preview had blatant differences from the film---the preview clearly has Catherine Keener stating "your friend is downstairs," while in the actual film she says "boyfriend." Though a joke, I guess we really didn't want a gay taint surrounding the racially diverse, schizophrenic buddy picture, now would we? Also left out of the film, but evident in the preview is Downey's melodramatic monologue concerning how he and Foxx are friends that take care of eachother, etc, etc. Strange. Foxx's performance is nothing short of brilliant, and he deserves applause. Downey Jr. is also solid as the journalist that rather exploits but befriends the homeless musician, eventually helping this man to get off the street. In the end, the film is a bit unfocused. We don't want to see Downey's journalist as exploiter, though he really is and then there's the whole dilemma about whether or not Foxx's character needs medication or simply a friend to love and understand him---though the film leans towards the latter. It's an interesting portrait of a friendship that's not stereotypical to Hollywood fare, but in the end, the film meanders into mediocrity. And I love the brilliant Catherine Keener, seen here in a wasted role as Downey's ex-wife. Mamma still lookin good, though.
NOW---I have been behind on things, but due to the wonderful messy miasma known colloquially as the Twin Cities Film Festival, I've been seeing (strangely enough) more films than usual. I should have a rundown of the festival up soon, which ends this week. And plenty of bitchy, scathing remarks, none of which are undeserved.
Observe & Report (2009) -- Destined to be one of the more misunderstood films of 2009, the new black comedy starring Seth Rogen and my gal Anna Faris is right up my alley. Dark, strange, and somewhat disturbing, I can see why the film isn't resonating with the majority of Rogen's fanbase. Rogen plays a pathetic, delusional mall cop suffering from bi-polar disorder and some seriously disturbing grandiose ideations, and who is in love with Brandi (Faris), the make-up kiosk girl. An anonymous flasher has been exposing himself to young women in the mall parking lot and eventually targets Brandi (who Faris imbues with all her insane talent as a horrifically vacuous tramp). Ray Liotta stars as the detective called in on the case, much to the chagrin of Rogen. As the film progresses, Rogen's mental state unravels rapidly, causing some funny, though realistically dark scenarios. Observe & Report has been compared to Taxi Driver (1974), and rightly so. A small time nobody with delusions of grandeur? Oh, for sure. I'd say the limited course of Faris and Rogen's relationship is even comparable to the Cybil Shepard/Robert De Niro dynamics in Taxi Driver. Whereas most of the empty-headed comedies from Rogen and co. may be entertaining, I found this new effort tinged with a different energy--relating to the desperation and the dark nature of a human existence trapped inside that microcosmic cess pool humans refer to as the shopping mall. Celia Weston co-stars as Rogen's very funny but very alcoholic mother. Three scenes that made me fall in love with the film: the infamous date rape scene with Anna Faris; the scene in slow motion of Rogen chasing the flasher to a cover of the Pixies, and the scene directly preceding it involving what Rogen does to the flasher. I'm saddened by the poor box office results as it's truly refreshing to see something a bit more challenging in main stream cinemas. The film is destined, I believe, to become a cult favorite, with numerous discussions to come. A line from the film that many critics have pointed out sums up the film, "I thought this was going to be funny, but it's just kind of sad," describes the film perfectly---what's more sad is Americans are unable to enjoy the surprise and genius of it. Directed by Jody Hill of The Foot Fist Way (2006).
Adventureland (2009) -- Another recent comedy I wasn't expecting to enjoy based on how I felt about director Greg Mottola's previous over-the-top 2007 comedy Superbad, was this latest offering starring Jesse Eisenberg (of The Squid and the Whale - 2005 and Roger Dodger - 2002) and an actress I had written off as dull and tweeny, Kristen Stewart of Twilight (2008) and The Messengers (2007). I found Eisenberg and Stewart's chemistry awkward, realistic and heartfelt, set inside the endless possibilities of a post-college graduate's late 80's summer in a second rate amusement park. The majority of the film is extremely loveable and nostalgic--only faltering in the last ten minutes or so when some awkward chords are struck when Eisenberg follows Stewart to NYC. Perhaps this could have played better with just a little more time spent on developing their situation at this point, because as it is, the ending, though clearly showing us the couple as tenuous at best, still feels a little rushed and formulaic. I have a feeling my Kristen Stewart irritation will return once the Twilight sequel is spooged all over our cinema screens, however, for the moment, she's starring in an excellent little movie called Adventureland. Ryan Reynolds stars as himself (not in name). And I hate that goddamn Amadeus song, too.
The Mysteries of Pittsburgh (2008) -- What happens when a Pulitzer prize winning author's novel is adapted by a hack director? As prime evidence, this film. Immediately after leaving the theater I was all set to give Rawson Marshall Thurber credit for attempting to adapt Michael Chabon's first novel, but then I remembered that Wonder Boys (2000) was also a Chabon novel adapted for the screen and that was excellent. And directed by the experienced Curtis Hanson (who has his own missteps, but also gave us The Hand that Rocks the Cradle - 1992 and LA Confidential - 1997). So, maybe the director best known for Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story (2004) should have let someone else adapt Chabon's prose---but alas, it's all tainted with this miserable snoozer. As has been pointed out, the film plays something like a schizophrenic at a brothel---too many voices trying to spearfuck too many themes. The film has been described as a "bisexual coming-of-age story" concerning the exploits of post-graduate mobster's son in late 80's Pittsburgh. However, the bisexual angle is both unbelievable and feels like another element just thrown into the mixture. It's like meth--one more household chemical in the mix doesn't really matter, does it? Our main character, Art Bechstein, (languidly played by Jon Foster) has decided to avoid any responsibility his last summer of freedom before taking a job his estranged gangland dad (Nick Nolte --- looking like Fats, the evil ventriloquist dummy from Magic) has lined up for him. Taking a job at the Book Barn for the summer, Art begins sleeping with his poodley, tramp-gone-to-seed boss, Phlox (lovely name), played by the underrated Mena Suvari. Meanwhile, Art is introduced to Jane, played by the beautiful (and sometimes nondescript) Sienna Miller. Jane happens to have a crazy, gambling bisexual boyfriend, played with reckless abandon by the usually sterling Peter Sarsgaard. Miller's character is dull, passive, underdeveloped and stupid--there's absolutely no chemistry between her and Foster or her and Sarsgaard. The same goes for the eventual gay sex scene with Foster & Sarsgaard---it seems forced and unrealistic. Sarsgaard isn't half bad, but his messy bird-nest hair and dingy ill-fitting 80's regalia makes me think he'd smell something mighty strong. Kudos to Sarsgaard---this is the third film I've seen him playing an unabashed gay. But before you see this catch him in one of those films, Kinsey (2004) and The Dying Gaul (2005). From boy growing up, to three way bi-triangle, to mobster fueled gambling revenge---the film doesn't spend the right moments on any of it's major themes. If you want to see Miss Sienna in something good, catch Steve Buscemi's excellent remake of Theo Van Gogh's Interview (2007).
The Haunting In Connecticut (2009) -- As opposed to that more infamous haunting in Vermont (or even New Hampshire) the one haunting in the tiny little New England state, Connecticut, doesn't seem anywhere thrilling enough to make a film about. I was happy to see Virginia Madsen's career resurrected with her lovely performance in Sideways (2004), but several of her next projects, such as that awful thing called Firewall (2006) or The Number 23 (2007) will stand as dots on her resume that will come to resemble some of her 1980's work. Remember Gotham (1988) or Slam Dance (1987)? Ewww, I know. Anyhow, that one haunting in Connecticut seems more a point of reference and nothing more. It's like taking a true WWII account about the Holocaust and saying a brave team of Jewish German giraffes successfully challenged a group of Nazi officers in a minor standoff. To read of the supposed actual events sent more chills up my spine than this gobbleygook misadventure. Though I never really cared for Martin Donovan, his turn as a recovering alcoholic does provide some brief moments of hilarity in your otherwise standard demons not leaving a creepy old house motif. Oh, and then there's that proverbial good demon/ghost child that Elias Koteas (as a creepy cancer-stricken priest that either has ulterior motives for the Kyle Gallner character or just simply too much time on his hands) unwittingly removes from the house. Anyhow, if I was haunted by demons and the ensuing cinematic depiction was deemed worthy of a PG-13 rating, I'd be a bit annoyed. Oh man, you wouldn't believe the awful time I had with them demons! Thankfully they weren't seriously intent on destroying my soul, as would be required for an R rating. Children under the age of 17 must hear my story--they must learn and not be afraid of the quasi-harmful entities. Oh Virginia! Don't become like your brother.
Obsessed (2009) Speaking of shamelessly censoring a movie to land a PG-13 rating is the new Beyonce vehicle, a somewhat heavy rip off of late 1980's scorned woman thematics. Painfully obvious are parallels with Fatal Attraction (1987), but I would even point toward a borrowed sequence from The War of the Roses (1989) as well. Idris Elba ("The Wire") stars as an asset manager in a successful company that seems to have an attraction for lady secretaries. Temps are great-they're like migrant workers. He even married his last secretary, played with pigeonholed alacrity by Beyonce (Knowles, here--for the res). The couple is shown to be extremely happy together, so much so that Elba frowns on Beyonce going to school (even though she has questionable grammatical skills and what looks like a zapped fright wig waving all around like a lion's mane). But Ms. Knowles calls the shots, becoming alarmed at the news of another female temp stalking the office corridors like a cougar in heat. Elba is not allowed to have any females working under him. Healthy, healthy dynamics. I love that children are taught that these are normal and healthy relationship issues. Of course, Ali Larter as the mentally unbalanced blonde perp does encompass the "look like the innocent flower but be the serpent underneath"--which is much too literary to apply to a film like this, but I try. Of course, we never understand what exactly Larter's motivations are. Does she just like black men? Why does she become so fixated on Elba when his flirtation is very minor and seemingly appropriate? It's just a bit of a stretch since they've never slept together. Of course, these are all elements that never 'need' to make sense when your director only does television work and the only reason people are going to see the film is for the limited scorned wife played by pop music's current icon. The cat fight between the ladies is fun---but in the end, is unsatisfying. Perhaps a more independent production would have been able to play with some of the film's racial tensions/angles. But even the company employing Elba seemingly has no women in positions of power, perhaps the price paid to have a smarmy gay man as secretary lifer instead. The film, as would be expected, is full of holes. Beyond Larter's campy performance, it's one of those films you wondered why anyone bothered with at all. And then of course, there's the almost cameo of Christine Lahti that leaves some of us scratching our heads---though the scene where she hands Larter's diary depicting explicit sexual scenarios over to Elba and they obviously can't read them out loud due to the PG-13 rating was worth a chortle.
The Soloist (2009) --- I don't want to be too harsh with Joe Wright's newest feature, The Soloist, starring Kiera Knightley as a 40 year old black man with schizophrenia that just loves to play the violin AND the cello (oh wait, that IS Jamie Foxx!) Yes, the best part of Wright's newest feature, is, sadly, that he didn't cast England's blandest waif in the production. The other best part was the film's preview. I saw that preview multiple times over the span of the last few months (apparently this was supposed to open in November 2008), and the preview nearly brought tears to my eyes several times. The film, however, did not. Additonally, the preview had blatant differences from the film---the preview clearly has Catherine Keener stating "your friend is downstairs," while in the actual film she says "boyfriend." Though a joke, I guess we really didn't want a gay taint surrounding the racially diverse, schizophrenic buddy picture, now would we? Also left out of the film, but evident in the preview is Downey's melodramatic monologue concerning how he and Foxx are friends that take care of eachother, etc, etc. Strange. Foxx's performance is nothing short of brilliant, and he deserves applause. Downey Jr. is also solid as the journalist that rather exploits but befriends the homeless musician, eventually helping this man to get off the street. In the end, the film is a bit unfocused. We don't want to see Downey's journalist as exploiter, though he really is and then there's the whole dilemma about whether or not Foxx's character needs medication or simply a friend to love and understand him---though the film leans towards the latter. It's an interesting portrait of a friendship that's not stereotypical to Hollywood fare, but in the end, the film meanders into mediocrity. And I love the brilliant Catherine Keener, seen here in a wasted role as Downey's ex-wife. Mamma still lookin good, though.
NOW---I have been behind on things, but due to the wonderful messy miasma known colloquially as the Twin Cities Film Festival, I've been seeing (strangely enough) more films than usual. I should have a rundown of the festival up soon, which ends this week. And plenty of bitchy, scathing remarks, none of which are undeserved.
I can't wait to read your film festival reviews. I know you were disappointed with the festival as a whole, but I did enjoy the movies I saw with you (despite with setbacks).
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