"Oh, strange they may be, the wicked ways of man!" -- Me.
Wrestling (2007) -- A short film from Iceland about two wrestlers in love, was short, sweet and inconsequential. The most entertaining part of the short film, however, was watching how wrestling goes down in Iceland---it looks gay. And not in a sexy way, but wrestling looks more like an uncomfortable waltz a la Calvaire (2004). The film's homo angle was actually a bit more sensitive than the other recent gay sports movie I've seen from Iceland, Eleven Men Out (2005).
Peer Gynt From The Streets (2008) -- As the BF and I wanted to see the 21 minute short film about gay wrestlers, we were forced to sit through this other half of this fabulous double bill, a dull, tedious socio-documentary from Norway. I will admit up front, I have not read Ibsen's play, Peer Gynt. However, even if one had, I don't know what would really motivate anyone to want to sit in a strange, dark, damp room with people and view this film, which is trying to be too many dull things. Concerning, of course, Ibsen's play, the film is kind of a documentary about a group of Norwegian recovering drug addicts that are putting on a film version of the play, hence the parenthetical. What results is a strange melding of what happens if one were to mix the Behind-The-Scenes extra features on a DVD with the main event. The film, I'm supposing, thinks it jumps seamlessly from a filmed effort of Peer Gynt to the deliriously uninspiring vagabonds (volunteering? employed?) pixellating the work of their fellow countryman. I thought it just goes to show that you can get any old thing to wander around on screen and call it an actor.
Star Trek (2009) -- I will preface this with the fact that I have never watched Star Trek in all my live long days. Forced to watch Star Wars at a young age, I quickly grew tired of the endless vagaries associated with this light-hearted sci-fi masturbation, so I think I was turned off from attempting to sit through anything related to this other influential franchise. Which is too bad, because I was actually entertained by this newest venture. Don't get me wrong, I had set the bar quite low - like a one legged man with a dog nipping at his good heel, the movie jumped the hurdle like a million bucks. So what are the major issues I had with the film? Well, the plot is a little silly, if you sit back and think about it. Except that there's so much time travel back and forth and in between and upside down and inside the skirts of Father Time that you might be fooled into thinking something intelligent might be going down since you can't detect it. Wrong. The convenient time travel trope has been activated (much like the Omega 13 device in Galaxy Quest -- how nerdy of me is that!) so that every Star Trek storyline that has come before has changed the narrative history and now J.J. Abrams has leave to write whatever he wants. Bloody brilliant, from a colonialist's point of view, I suppose. A cinematic analogy would be, if one could go back in time and dispose of Tommy Lee Wallace, let's say, right before he filmed Halloween III (1982), or Rob Zombie, for that matter, to change the course of how overexposed we are to that franchise. As far as Hollywood goes, what with everything under the sun being remade (the popular new term is rebooted--it's still a damn remake, Igor) or sequel/prequel/trequelized, the plot device Star Trek activated is quite brilliant from a corporate takeover viewpoint. As for the cast, well, they did alright. I don't quite see the allure of Chris Pine as Capt. Kirk, and scenes where he's trying to be light-hearted/funny with the atrocious Karl Urban as Dr. McCoy are the worst in the film, especially when you get Simon Pegg in the mix, who actually is funny. Zachary Quinto, from "Heroes," which I've never seen because watching a television series would be, for me, like dating a woman, (too much commitment wasted on a medium I'm not attracted to anyway--that's harsh but I like it) is entertaining as Spock and his scenes with Leonard Nimoy are at least entertaining. I know that Arnold Schwarzeneggar declared to the world the difficult time he had portraying a character that was cold, and emotionless, but something makes me think that it's not all that difficult, but is in fact, quite easy. I think Spock was an easy role to play. There. I said it. And I like Zoe Saldana, I do, but if I were her friend I would tell her to eat a thing or two so she doesn't end up looking like a bobblehead. I'm glad to see a black girl as the romantic interest, however, even if it is with a mixed race Vulcan.
Regardless, my last gripe with the film (I'm not really going to bother explaining the plot machinations---go see the damn film if you want that) is the presence of two celebrities, each with two scenes. Winona Ryder and Tyler Perry--both cast in roles that Abrams should have dumped William Shatner in so we could all avoid his bitchy complaining. As in the recent shit fest, Watchmen, why are we casting beautiful, 40-ish actresses in limited bit parts and painting in crow's feet while we spray their hair with Halloween style spider webbing? Like Carla Gugino, Winona Ryder gets the job done here as Spock's mother who dies in her second scene. Was there more on the cutting room floor? What range, what depth of emotion in this woman, lover of the Vulcans, screamed for Winona Ryder? But not Winona as she looks, oh no, but Winona "Golden Girl" Ryder. I hope that paycheck was tight. And then, there's Tyler Perry, whose presence elicited a few snickers from the crowd. He doesn't do anything wrong, it's just, why is he in there? The foreboding feeling I felt in the pit of my stomach concerns Madea popping up somewhere on the glorious Enterprise. At least we didn't have to hear about Lawd Jeebus in Star Trek, this time around---just you wait.
Sin Nombre (2009) --- Destined to be among my top picks for the year, this directorial debut from Cary Fukunaga (who grew up in Oakland) concerns the ill-fated destiny of Sayra, from Honduras and Willy, a Mexican gang banger, both on top of a train trying to get into the U.S. No matter what your stance is on illegal immigrants, watching the living conditions in which some of these people exist has to melt a heart of stone---and for those that want a chance at a better life in a country not run by rival gangs, more power to them. The director famously rode the tops of trains with immigrants in Mexico for research in his film, which truly is a labor of love. Running at a crisp pace, the film delivers an awesome narrative infused with what has become an elusive element in American cinema---some humanity. If you have the chance, see it.
State of Play (2009) --- Alright, alright, halfway into this film I was into it. It's been a while since a mainstream American political thriller made me excited (I loved John Grisham as a child, which may be why I can't stand him now) but the film's twisty turning became a bit ludicrous and eventually it undermines itself. I always love to see Helen Mirren (who I'm guessing is part of the cast because it's based on a BBC series?) and I enjoy Rachel McAdams, but neither have anything substantial to do. What gets me is that, in the end, the focus seems to be all about a philandering congressman and his ill-fated affair, eclipsing the actual political intrigue of the plot. It's like the Levy case, I suppose. Anyhow, I will say one thing, for a film starring two actors I really don't care for (Russell Crowe, looking like butch lesbian here, and Ben Affleck, who is supposed to be Crowe's age--my math skills are poor, but come on) I was quite engaged throughout. And Robin Wright Penn, looking fine, honey. Too bad about Sean Penn, but something tells me Robin Wright could pull a Catherine Keener.
Lymelife (2008) --- Today's blog title, ladies and gentleman. 30 minutes into Lymelife I had the realization that three major acting clans were involved in this production---Eric Roberts' daughter, Emma (more often credited as Julia Roberts' niece, which I find hilarious), two Culkin brothers, and a Baldwin. I suppose I realized this when, distracted by two Culkins, I wondered how Macauley felt that he wasn't invited to be a cameo at least. Or is he considered a toxic presence in the indie scene? I thought he did his job just fine in Saved! (2004). Anyhow, I love how the film was marketed as "in the tradition of Ordinary People and American Beauty," both suburban angst films that won Best Picture (and Timothy Hutton, who appears in this one was well, not looking like he's aged well since winning that Oscar for Ordinary People, but then, he has Lyme's disease here). The problem with Lymelife is that it fails to cover new ground, or plumb the depths of anything relevant. Yeah, life sucks for teenagers living with fucked up parents. And these 70's parental units aren't even that fucked up. See The Ice Storm (1997) instead. Some excellent acting hurtles this film along nicely, but we're left with little to remember. Jill Hennessy, looking good, is excellent as Alec Baldwin's depressed suburban housewife, but I don't see the appeal of Cynthia Nixon (looking good for Cynthia Nixon) over Hennessy. And the trouble with Alec Baldwin is, whenever he gets all angry and verbally abusive in a movie I always picture that's how he talked to Kim Basinger and his kid with her.
X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009) -- I almost didn't bother writing about this turkey, hoping to almost forget that I'd seen it. Viewing it should make you think of what would happen if a three month old fetus survived being taken out of the womb and then was left to develop on it's own due to someone's ill-thought scheme. The worst part of all, there's nothing I can specifically call out---every reel is drenched in shit. What's worse is that it's not getting nearly enough scathing reviews for it's awful, unfortunate existence in nature. From the opening credits, yes, before we've even begun, the film reveals it's ridiculousness. Whoever thought it was a clever idea to make wolf brothers fight in every war in a ludicrous slap-happy montage that ends, typically, with madness in Vietnam? Was it Skip Woods, one of the screenwriters responsible for penning other stomach churning fare like Swordfish (2001) or Hitman (2007)? And what of our South African director, Gavin Hood, who has legit indie cred for Tsotsi (2005)? I think studios lure these foreign directors to direct their big budget babies so they can personally fuck the project over. This one reeks of studio born blandness. I love how High Jackman (and Liev Schreiber, to a degree) keep getting credit that they are "above this material," and Jackman's "passion" for the role is evident, blah, blah, blah. He isn't above shit. He's a producer AND he uttered all those stupid lines, acted out the asinine plot, marketed the shit-tastic end product, etc. "Still shooting first, asking questions later?" one character asks. That seems to be the new method of filmmaking, exibited here. Does this make sense, Hugh? No? Excellent, it's in. And then we are forced to watch Ryan Reynolds, in his smug mode, working in a film that allows him gym access in-between takes. The strange end product creature that Reynolds becomes is the creepiest part of the film, looking like a microwaved Neo-nazi from a Bruce Labruce skin flick. And yet the film still doesn't bother to explain why exactly Logan (ahem Quetiqweetal or Wolverine or whatever that's translated as) is a wolf-man, why he has a brother as a wolf man, why he has an enemy brother-as-a-wolf-man that doesn't appear in any of the other X-men movies since this is a prequel, and other neglected plot angles. And then our female lead, Lynn Collins. I couldn't figure out, at first, why she irritated me to such an extent with her overt flaky acting chops, and then I realized I had seen her in person in Toronto at the very small world premiere of her film Uncertainty with Joseph Gordon Levitt, directed by two men I respect very much, Scott McGehee & David Siegel (Suture - 1993; The Deep End - 2001). Yeah, she was boo-worthy in that, too. But here, well, in her dying scene where she has the capability of destroying the film's evil incarnate, Danny Huston (Anjelica's brother, always the asshole) while she instead states, as forcefully as one is wont to under the circumstances, "Walk until your feet bleed. Then keep walking." Bitch, paleeze! I'm guessing that the Nazi (excuse me, conservative) censorship board (excuse me, MPAA) wouldn't have rated a man blowing his brains out as worthy of a PG-13 rating. And then to think Liev Schreiber gained 35 lbs of muscle to avoid wearing a humiliating muscle suit in order to be comparable to Jackman's bulk. That's like Russell Crowe becoming a fat ass for Body of Lies (2008) -- what a waste of time and energy over utter crap. Also, love the extremely computer generated face of Patrick Stewart towards the end. The film has one of the worst problems of all, not only is it poorly made, it's just fucking boring.
Wrestling (2007) -- A short film from Iceland about two wrestlers in love, was short, sweet and inconsequential. The most entertaining part of the short film, however, was watching how wrestling goes down in Iceland---it looks gay. And not in a sexy way, but wrestling looks more like an uncomfortable waltz a la Calvaire (2004). The film's homo angle was actually a bit more sensitive than the other recent gay sports movie I've seen from Iceland, Eleven Men Out (2005).
Peer Gynt From The Streets (2008) -- As the BF and I wanted to see the 21 minute short film about gay wrestlers, we were forced to sit through this other half of this fabulous double bill, a dull, tedious socio-documentary from Norway. I will admit up front, I have not read Ibsen's play, Peer Gynt. However, even if one had, I don't know what would really motivate anyone to want to sit in a strange, dark, damp room with people and view this film, which is trying to be too many dull things. Concerning, of course, Ibsen's play, the film is kind of a documentary about a group of Norwegian recovering drug addicts that are putting on a film version of the play, hence the parenthetical. What results is a strange melding of what happens if one were to mix the Behind-The-Scenes extra features on a DVD with the main event. The film, I'm supposing, thinks it jumps seamlessly from a filmed effort of Peer Gynt to the deliriously uninspiring vagabonds (volunteering? employed?) pixellating the work of their fellow countryman. I thought it just goes to show that you can get any old thing to wander around on screen and call it an actor.
Star Trek (2009) -- I will preface this with the fact that I have never watched Star Trek in all my live long days. Forced to watch Star Wars at a young age, I quickly grew tired of the endless vagaries associated with this light-hearted sci-fi masturbation, so I think I was turned off from attempting to sit through anything related to this other influential franchise. Which is too bad, because I was actually entertained by this newest venture. Don't get me wrong, I had set the bar quite low - like a one legged man with a dog nipping at his good heel, the movie jumped the hurdle like a million bucks. So what are the major issues I had with the film? Well, the plot is a little silly, if you sit back and think about it. Except that there's so much time travel back and forth and in between and upside down and inside the skirts of Father Time that you might be fooled into thinking something intelligent might be going down since you can't detect it. Wrong. The convenient time travel trope has been activated (much like the Omega 13 device in Galaxy Quest -- how nerdy of me is that!) so that every Star Trek storyline that has come before has changed the narrative history and now J.J. Abrams has leave to write whatever he wants. Bloody brilliant, from a colonialist's point of view, I suppose. A cinematic analogy would be, if one could go back in time and dispose of Tommy Lee Wallace, let's say, right before he filmed Halloween III (1982), or Rob Zombie, for that matter, to change the course of how overexposed we are to that franchise. As far as Hollywood goes, what with everything under the sun being remade (the popular new term is rebooted--it's still a damn remake, Igor) or sequel/prequel/trequelized, the plot device Star Trek activated is quite brilliant from a corporate takeover viewpoint. As for the cast, well, they did alright. I don't quite see the allure of Chris Pine as Capt. Kirk, and scenes where he's trying to be light-hearted/funny with the atrocious Karl Urban as Dr. McCoy are the worst in the film, especially when you get Simon Pegg in the mix, who actually is funny. Zachary Quinto, from "Heroes," which I've never seen because watching a television series would be, for me, like dating a woman, (too much commitment wasted on a medium I'm not attracted to anyway--that's harsh but I like it) is entertaining as Spock and his scenes with Leonard Nimoy are at least entertaining. I know that Arnold Schwarzeneggar declared to the world the difficult time he had portraying a character that was cold, and emotionless, but something makes me think that it's not all that difficult, but is in fact, quite easy. I think Spock was an easy role to play. There. I said it. And I like Zoe Saldana, I do, but if I were her friend I would tell her to eat a thing or two so she doesn't end up looking like a bobblehead. I'm glad to see a black girl as the romantic interest, however, even if it is with a mixed race Vulcan.
Regardless, my last gripe with the film (I'm not really going to bother explaining the plot machinations---go see the damn film if you want that) is the presence of two celebrities, each with two scenes. Winona Ryder and Tyler Perry--both cast in roles that Abrams should have dumped William Shatner in so we could all avoid his bitchy complaining. As in the recent shit fest, Watchmen, why are we casting beautiful, 40-ish actresses in limited bit parts and painting in crow's feet while we spray their hair with Halloween style spider webbing? Like Carla Gugino, Winona Ryder gets the job done here as Spock's mother who dies in her second scene. Was there more on the cutting room floor? What range, what depth of emotion in this woman, lover of the Vulcans, screamed for Winona Ryder? But not Winona as she looks, oh no, but Winona "Golden Girl" Ryder. I hope that paycheck was tight. And then, there's Tyler Perry, whose presence elicited a few snickers from the crowd. He doesn't do anything wrong, it's just, why is he in there? The foreboding feeling I felt in the pit of my stomach concerns Madea popping up somewhere on the glorious Enterprise. At least we didn't have to hear about Lawd Jeebus in Star Trek, this time around---just you wait.
Sin Nombre (2009) --- Destined to be among my top picks for the year, this directorial debut from Cary Fukunaga (who grew up in Oakland) concerns the ill-fated destiny of Sayra, from Honduras and Willy, a Mexican gang banger, both on top of a train trying to get into the U.S. No matter what your stance is on illegal immigrants, watching the living conditions in which some of these people exist has to melt a heart of stone---and for those that want a chance at a better life in a country not run by rival gangs, more power to them. The director famously rode the tops of trains with immigrants in Mexico for research in his film, which truly is a labor of love. Running at a crisp pace, the film delivers an awesome narrative infused with what has become an elusive element in American cinema---some humanity. If you have the chance, see it.
State of Play (2009) --- Alright, alright, halfway into this film I was into it. It's been a while since a mainstream American political thriller made me excited (I loved John Grisham as a child, which may be why I can't stand him now) but the film's twisty turning became a bit ludicrous and eventually it undermines itself. I always love to see Helen Mirren (who I'm guessing is part of the cast because it's based on a BBC series?) and I enjoy Rachel McAdams, but neither have anything substantial to do. What gets me is that, in the end, the focus seems to be all about a philandering congressman and his ill-fated affair, eclipsing the actual political intrigue of the plot. It's like the Levy case, I suppose. Anyhow, I will say one thing, for a film starring two actors I really don't care for (Russell Crowe, looking like butch lesbian here, and Ben Affleck, who is supposed to be Crowe's age--my math skills are poor, but come on) I was quite engaged throughout. And Robin Wright Penn, looking fine, honey. Too bad about Sean Penn, but something tells me Robin Wright could pull a Catherine Keener.
Lymelife (2008) --- Today's blog title, ladies and gentleman. 30 minutes into Lymelife I had the realization that three major acting clans were involved in this production---Eric Roberts' daughter, Emma (more often credited as Julia Roberts' niece, which I find hilarious), two Culkin brothers, and a Baldwin. I suppose I realized this when, distracted by two Culkins, I wondered how Macauley felt that he wasn't invited to be a cameo at least. Or is he considered a toxic presence in the indie scene? I thought he did his job just fine in Saved! (2004). Anyhow, I love how the film was marketed as "in the tradition of Ordinary People and American Beauty," both suburban angst films that won Best Picture (and Timothy Hutton, who appears in this one was well, not looking like he's aged well since winning that Oscar for Ordinary People, but then, he has Lyme's disease here). The problem with Lymelife is that it fails to cover new ground, or plumb the depths of anything relevant. Yeah, life sucks for teenagers living with fucked up parents. And these 70's parental units aren't even that fucked up. See The Ice Storm (1997) instead. Some excellent acting hurtles this film along nicely, but we're left with little to remember. Jill Hennessy, looking good, is excellent as Alec Baldwin's depressed suburban housewife, but I don't see the appeal of Cynthia Nixon (looking good for Cynthia Nixon) over Hennessy. And the trouble with Alec Baldwin is, whenever he gets all angry and verbally abusive in a movie I always picture that's how he talked to Kim Basinger and his kid with her.
X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009) -- I almost didn't bother writing about this turkey, hoping to almost forget that I'd seen it. Viewing it should make you think of what would happen if a three month old fetus survived being taken out of the womb and then was left to develop on it's own due to someone's ill-thought scheme. The worst part of all, there's nothing I can specifically call out---every reel is drenched in shit. What's worse is that it's not getting nearly enough scathing reviews for it's awful, unfortunate existence in nature. From the opening credits, yes, before we've even begun, the film reveals it's ridiculousness. Whoever thought it was a clever idea to make wolf brothers fight in every war in a ludicrous slap-happy montage that ends, typically, with madness in Vietnam? Was it Skip Woods, one of the screenwriters responsible for penning other stomach churning fare like Swordfish (2001) or Hitman (2007)? And what of our South African director, Gavin Hood, who has legit indie cred for Tsotsi (2005)? I think studios lure these foreign directors to direct their big budget babies so they can personally fuck the project over. This one reeks of studio born blandness. I love how High Jackman (and Liev Schreiber, to a degree) keep getting credit that they are "above this material," and Jackman's "passion" for the role is evident, blah, blah, blah. He isn't above shit. He's a producer AND he uttered all those stupid lines, acted out the asinine plot, marketed the shit-tastic end product, etc. "Still shooting first, asking questions later?" one character asks. That seems to be the new method of filmmaking, exibited here. Does this make sense, Hugh? No? Excellent, it's in. And then we are forced to watch Ryan Reynolds, in his smug mode, working in a film that allows him gym access in-between takes. The strange end product creature that Reynolds becomes is the creepiest part of the film, looking like a microwaved Neo-nazi from a Bruce Labruce skin flick. And yet the film still doesn't bother to explain why exactly Logan (ahem Quetiqweetal or Wolverine or whatever that's translated as) is a wolf-man, why he has a brother as a wolf man, why he has an enemy brother-as-a-wolf-man that doesn't appear in any of the other X-men movies since this is a prequel, and other neglected plot angles. And then our female lead, Lynn Collins. I couldn't figure out, at first, why she irritated me to such an extent with her overt flaky acting chops, and then I realized I had seen her in person in Toronto at the very small world premiere of her film Uncertainty with Joseph Gordon Levitt, directed by two men I respect very much, Scott McGehee & David Siegel (Suture - 1993; The Deep End - 2001). Yeah, she was boo-worthy in that, too. But here, well, in her dying scene where she has the capability of destroying the film's evil incarnate, Danny Huston (Anjelica's brother, always the asshole) while she instead states, as forcefully as one is wont to under the circumstances, "Walk until your feet bleed. Then keep walking." Bitch, paleeze! I'm guessing that the Nazi (excuse me, conservative) censorship board (excuse me, MPAA) wouldn't have rated a man blowing his brains out as worthy of a PG-13 rating. And then to think Liev Schreiber gained 35 lbs of muscle to avoid wearing a humiliating muscle suit in order to be comparable to Jackman's bulk. That's like Russell Crowe becoming a fat ass for Body of Lies (2008) -- what a waste of time and energy over utter crap. Also, love the extremely computer generated face of Patrick Stewart towards the end. The film has one of the worst problems of all, not only is it poorly made, it's just fucking boring.
The Omega 13 reference was nerdy...lol.
ReplyDeleteI especially enjoyed your X-Men Origins: Wolverine review. It really was awful.