Pardon our dust! We just migrated to a new host and platform, and we're still doing some fine-tuning. Broken images, URLs, etc. will be par for the course.
*/**** starring Danny McBride, James Franco, Natalie Portman, Zooey Deschanel screenplay by Danny R. McBride & Ben Best directed by David Gordon Green
by Walter Chaw David Gordon Green continues his burnout trilogy with the medieval stoner swords & sorcery flick Your Highness, a sharp, incisive satire that rips the lid off the long-held secret of smart people-in-the-know that Red Sonja is a piece of shit. It’s an extended, hostile slam of stuff like Clash of the Titans, and just because it’s better than, say, Excalibur, that doesn’t excuse it for being the kind of movie “Mystery Science Theater” would make if it made movies instead of taking shots at them from a privileged position. There’s no love in Your Highness–replacing Harryhausen’s clockwork Bubo with an animatronic crow that’s resurrected from a trash heap in an offhand rejection of the Clash of the Titans remake doesn’t go nearly far enough towards convincing me that Green and his writers, Danny McBride and Ben Best, actually give a damn about the genre or any of its key films. I’m not sure the genre merits much respect, frankly, but all I’m really certain of after this one is that the filmmakers thought Ladyhawke would be a lot better with a fat slob saying “fuck” and wearing a penis around his neck. Indeed, in case you were wondering, Your Highness is in the same family as the asshole who writes “faggot” on your forehead in Sharpie while you’re sleeping.
****/**** Image B- Sound B starring Nick Nolte, Eddie Murphy, Annette O’Toole, Frank McRae
screenplay by Roger Spottiswoode and Walter Hill & Larry Gross and Steven E. de Souza
directed by Walter Hill
by Walter Chaw A genuinely tetchy, risky race comedy, Walter Hill’s finest box-office hour reveals itself to be his finest hour, period. There’s a moment in 48Hrs. where dishevelled grizzly bear of a cop Jack (Nick Nolte, typecast) apologizes to the convict in his charge, Reggie (Eddie Murphy), for calling him a “nigger” and a “watermelon,” to which a smiling Reggie responds that, you know, there’s not always an explanation or an excuse for things sometimes. And it’s that moment that defines the film–defines it as a prototype for the modern buddy comedy but, moreover, defines this picture and this man, Murphy (then finishing up his second year on SNL), as the most important African-American actor since Sidney Poitier, in a meatier, more meaningful role than Poitier ever had. He is unapologetically a criminal–not the Desperate Hours/Stanley Kramer-ized Christ-like criminal or the super-duper Green Mile magic Negro con, but a horny, profane, violent, venal criminal measuring the angles and deciding to help the fuzz because there’s something attractive to him about becoming rich off the spoils of the heist that landed him in the pen in the first place. Reggie, in other words, is smart as hell, as well as the product of a certain reality that would drive Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn absolutely insane. Better still, Jack is smart as hell, too, and fifteen years after In the Heat of the Night here, finally, is a dynamic between a black guy and a white guy solving a case that rings with all the pain, injustice, and social weight necessary to tell the unsolvable calamity of race in our country.
****/**** DVD – Image A+ Sound A+ Extras A+ BD – Image A Sound A Extras A+ written and directed by Brad Bird
by Walter Chaw The first hint that there’s something at work in The Incredibles far beyond the pale is the casting of Sarah Vowell as the voice of wilting Violet, the wallflower older sister in the Incredibles’ nuclear family. Vowell herself is a brilliant satirist, a gifted writer, and in her heart o’ hearts, a bona fide autobiographical anthropologist. She mines the tragedies of her life for insight into the thinness of the onionskin separating our ability to function with the iron undertow of self-doubt and disappointment that comprises all of our paralyzed yesterdays. The Incredibles does a lot of things well–a lot of the same things, as it happens, that Sarah Vowell does well. Through two Toy Story films and last year’s fantastically topical Finding Nemo, Pixar has provided the new gold standard in children’s entertainment, and it has consistently done so by injecting an amazing amount of insight and depth into the foundation of its bells and whistles.
**/**** DVD – Image B Sound B+ Extras B+ BD – Image B- Sound B+ Extras B+ starring Cher, Nicolas Cage, Vincent Gardenia, Olympia Dukakis screenplay by John Patrick Shanley directed by Norman Jewison
by Travis Mackenzie Hoover SPOILER WARNING IN EFFECT. If you were to make a film about African-Americans in which everyone is shiftless, ignorant, and constantly eating watermelon or fried chicken and acting lascivious, you’d be rightly vilified for your inherent racism. But if you were to make a film about Italian-Americans in which everyone is loud, hilarious, and constantly eating pasta and acting lascivious, apparently you’d be rewarded with the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. That, at least, is the conclusion one draws from watching the stereotype cavalcade that is Moonstruck, which, however affectionate, creates a tedious minstrel show out of those wacky Eye-talians while minimizing their pain. There’s plenty of talk about the chaos of love and the torment of attraction, but who are they kidding? That everything works out in the end for problems that would normally rip a family apart is par for the course in a Norman Jewison film, meaning baked ziti for all and true drama for none.
*/**** starring Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Jason Bateman, Sigourney Weaver
screenplay by Simon Pegg & Nick Frost
directed by Greg Mottola
by Walter Chaw As talky and obsessed with Star Wars as a Kevin Smith joint and every bit as awkward and unfunny for extended stretches, Greg Mottola’s Paul squanders a wonderful cast and a vaguely interesting concept in pursuit of the same pomo alchemy wrought in the kinds of movies Edgar Wright makes. Not all the blame can be ladled on Mottola, however, as he appears to be the patsy holding the camera for co-screenwriters/stars/buddies Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, engaged in what’s probably some weak, last-ditch go at saving Frost’s career. Pegg and Frost are British geeks Clive and Graeme, touring UFO landing sites in the American hinterland after a jaunt at the San Diego Comic-Con. One night outside Area 51, naturally, they pick up hitchhiker Paul (voiced by Seth Rogen), a foul-talking “gray” who smokes doobies, drinks beer, and generally acts a lot like Howard the Duck. The premise paves the way for the usual stuff about a virgin (Buggs (Kristin Wiig)) wanting to fornicate and indulging in wacky-tobaccy; about fag-hating rednecks in a honkytonk with a band that plays a bluegrass version of the Cantina Theme from Star Wars; and about referencing everything from Capturing the Friedmans to Close Encounters of the Third Kind (with an assist from Steven Spielberg on the phone, no less). As the government suit responsible for Paul’s capture, Sigourney Weaver gets her iconic “get away from her, you bitch” recited to her at Devil’s Tower, while Jeffrey Tambor gets to do a devastating impersonation of Whitley Strieber–meaning that if there are chuckles to be had along the way, they’re the asthmatic, superior kind that Comic Book Guy on “The Simpsons” enjoys.
Cosmonauta **½/**** starring Claudio Pandolfi, Sergio Rubini, Mariana Raschilla, Pietro Del Giudice screenplay by Susanna Nicchiarelli, Teresa Ciabatti directed by Susanna Nicchiarelli
by Bill Chambers Susanna Nicchiarelli’s Cosmonaut (Cosmonauta) opens with little Luciana fleeing Holy Communion, shedding the accoutrements of the ceremony on her sprint back home. She seems a little young to be throwing off the shackles of religious conformity, younger even than her alleged onscreen age of nine, but the punchline’s priceless in its precociousness: “Because I’m a communist!” she barks when her mother asks why she left church. There’s actually a bit more to her rebellion than that. With their dad gone (having died a “true communist”), she looks to her geeky older brother Arturo for guidance, and because it’s 1957 and the Soviets are about to launch Sputnik, he favours the godless world of communism as well. From a North American perspective, the movie is interesting in that respect, as very rarely do our history books stop to consider the excitement that Sputnik and Yuri Gagarin must have engendered in Europe on their way to depicting America’s mad rush to win the space race. Even propaganda footage showcasing the likes of Laika the Russian dog–which forms the basis of transitional montages similar to but less operatically intense than the ones that constitute a good portion of Marco Bellocchio’s Vincere–was mostly new to me. In fact, when the moon-landing cropped up in the finale, I breathed a sigh of disappointment, though it’s worth noting that it may not be such a cliché in Italy.
ZERO STARS/**** Image C Sound B Extras D starring Katie Holmes, Josh Duhamel, Anna Paquin, Elijah Wood screenplay by Galt Niederhoffer, based on her novel directed by Galt Niederhoffer
by Walter Chaw Though technically correct, I much prefer the term “Romanticists” to “Romantics,” but that’s a fussy kind of neither here nor there in a film, hyphenate Galt Neiderhoffer’s The Romantics, that suffers from nothing like precision, elegance, or, crucially, poetry. It’s a nightmare–a handheld, artfully ugly mash-up of Rachel Getting Married and Dead Poets Society that starts with credits in Wes Anderson’s favourite font and slogs on through with Lilith Fair/coffee-shop folk and a character played by Katie Holmes who’s jealous of a character played by Anna Paquin’s boobs. Let’s call it a draw, ladies, and discuss instead this variety of faux-prestige romcom, which hijacks Lloyd Dobler’s holding of a boombox blaring Peter Gabriel over his head by having frickin’ Josh Duhamel hoist an iPhone with Keats’s “To a Nightingale” on its screen. It features idiots like dollar-store Cameron Diaz Malin Akerman and an increasingly Gollum-esque Elijah Wood in awkward supporting roles; allows scenarios like the nightmare rehearsal-dinner toast montage; and tasks Candace Bergen’s team of handlers and feeders to drag her out to yet again fulfill the role of Tyrannosaurus Reaction Shot. Good job, Ms. Neiderhoffer, for not only mistaking Catch & Release for Noah Baumbach or Lars Von Trier, for not only setting your indie emoti-fest in the Dan in Real Life bizarre-verse, but for borrowing a bad burlesque from the lame 27 Dresses, too.
*½/**** Image A Sound A Extras D starring John Cusack, Rob Corddry, Craig Robinson, Chevy Chase
screenplay by Josh Heald and Sean Anders & John Morris
directed by Steve Pink
by Walter Chaw Emboldened, perhaps, by the surprisingly good The Other Guys and the surprisingly great Get Him to the Greek, I went into Steve Pink’s Hot Tub Time Machine with the belief that its high-concept idea–not the time travel, but the casting of ’80s icon John Cusack in a film that would return him to his decade of greatest power and influence–would be at least enough for it to function as a fairly smart nostalgia piece. Sadly, it’s not very smart, nor is it very funny–and the parts of it that work do so in spite of what feels like Cusack’s disdain for this period that made him famous. It’s pretty standard fare, really, full of obvious jokes about changing the past and the obvious “rebellion” of not honouring the Prime Directive by introducing The Black-Eyed Peas into an eighties music scene that, for everything you could say about Falco or Flock of Seagulls, never produced anything remotely as odious as The Black-Eyed Peas. No, not even Billy Joel. In other words, Pink and his stable of writers can’t seem to tell what’s ironic from what isn’t, meaning the whole project was doomed before it left the starting gate.
February 27, 2011|Having conducted my usual round of research (re-watching the movies, poring over the DVD commentaries and other making-of material), the Farrelly brothers were pretty much how I expected them to be when I interviewed them at the Ritz-Carlton in Boston: older brother Peter is very talkative and up for an impromptu debate, while Bobby is content to hang back and drop the occasional pearl of wisdom into the conversation. Of course, research only prepares you for so much. Their career-defining gross-out sight gags have never been my cup of tea, but just about every one of their films (including their latest, Hall Pass) is driven by an unmistakable–perhaps surprising–humanity. Still, it wasn’t until our discussion heated up that I truly began to appreciate the source of that humanity. The Farrellys seemed a little surprised that anyone would bring it up, but their innate kindness shined through as we talked about their approach to making movies. (I feel somewhat privileged, actually, to have witnessed it firsthand.) It’s obvious that they’ve spent their joint career striving to promote an egalitarianism in Hollywood–not just with their all-inclusive casting decisions, but also with their embrace of the test-screening process as a barometer of artistic success.
“Good-looking people turn me off. Myself included.” -Patrick Wayne Swayze
RED DAWN (1984) [COLLECTOR’S EDITION] – DVD **½/**** Image B Sound C+ Extras N/A starring Patrick Swayze, C. Thomas Howell, Lea Thompson, Powers Boothe screenplay by Kevin Reynolds and John Milius directed by John Milius
THE OUTSIDERS (THE COMPLETE NOVEL) (1983) [TWO-DISC SPECIAL EDITION] – DVD ****/**** Image A+ Sound A Extras A+ starring C. Thomas Howell, Matt Dillon, Diane Lane, Leif Garrett screenplay by Kathleen Knutsen Rowell, based on the novel by S.E. Hinton directed by Francis Ford Coppola
YOUNGBLOOD (1986) [TOTALLY AWESOME 80s DOUBLE FEATURE] – DVD ZERO STARS/**** Image D+ Sound C- starring Rob Lowe, Cynthia Gibb, Ed Lauter, Patrick Swayze, Jim Youngs written and directed by Peter Markle
POINT BREAK (1991) [PURE ADRENALINE EDITION] – DVD + [WARNER REISSUE] – BLU-RAY DISC ***/**** DVD – Image B- Sound A Extras C BD – Image B- Sound B+ Extras C starring Patrick Swayze, Keanu Reeves, Gary Busey, Lori Petty screenplay by W. Peter Iliff, based on the novel by Rick King directed by Kathryn Bigelow
DIRTY DANCING (1987) [TWENTIETH ANNIVERSARY] – DVD ½*/**** Image B Sound A Extras B starring Patrick Swayze, Jennifer Grey, Jerry Orbach, Steven Reuther screenplay by Eleanor Bergstein directed by Emile Ardolino
GHOST (1990) [SPECIAL COLLECTOR’S EDITION] – DVD + BLU-RAY DISC */**** DVD – Image A- Sound B Extras B BD – Image A Sound B+ Extras B starring Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore, Whoopi Goldberg, Tony Goldwyn screenplay by Bruce Joel Rubin directed by Jerry Zucker
KEEPING MUM (2006) – DVD ½*/**** Image A Sound B+ Extras B starring Rowan Atkinson, Kristin Scott Thomas, Maggie Smith, Patrick Swayze screenplay by Richard Russo and Niall Johnson directed by Niall Johnson
by Walter Chaw Early on in the stupidest/smartest movie of 1984, a band of high-schoolers, having just witnessed a few planeloads of Cuban paratroopers land in their football field and machine gun their history teacher (“Education this!”), stock up for a stay in forest exile by cleaning out a gas-n-sip. Sleeping bags, canned goods, and the last thing off the shelf? That’s right: a football. I spent the rest of Red Dawn trying to figure out if the football played some role in the eventual fighting prowess of our carbuncular guerrillas or if it was merely a big “fuck you” to the rest of the world that thinks “football” is soccer. The jury’s still out, because while there’s an awful lot of grenade-chucking in the last hour of the picture, none of it looks particularly football-like (or athletic come to think of it) despite the deadly accuracy of each toss aimed at the hapless commie combatants. (So clueless are they about modern-day conventional warfare that they’re repeatedly ambushed by this untrained makeshift militia; they’re the Washington Generals to our Harlem Globetrotters.) It’s just one puzzle in an altogether puzzling film–one that has Patrick Swayze playing Charlie Sheen’s older brother (and Jennifer Grey the sister of Lea Thompson in an even greater genetic stretch) and C. Thomas Howell as a remorseless, psychopathic nihilist who takes his dose of glory by Rambo’ing up against a Russian attack helicopter. Maybe his transformation from ’80s-wallpaper milquetoast to tough-guy killing machine had something to do with being forced by the brothers Swayze-Sheen to drink fresh deer blood from a tin cup.
DUE DATE
***½/**** Image A Sound A Extras C- starring Robert Downey Jr., Zach Galifianakis, Jamie Foxx, Michelle Monaghan screenplay by Alan R. Cohen & Alan Freedland and Adam Sztykiel & Todd Phillips directed by Todd Phillips
MEGAMIND
**/**** screenplay by Alan J. Schoolcraft & Brent Simons directed by Tom McGrath
by Ian Pugh SPOILER WARNING IN EFFECT. Peter Highman (Robert Downey Jr.) is eager to fly out of Atlanta back to Los Angeles to witness the birth of his child, but a chance encounter with wannabe actor/lone weirdo Ethan Tremblay (Zach Galifianakis) lands the pair on a no-fly list and leaves Peter without his luggage or his wallet. With no alternatives, Peter becomes Ethan’s unwilling passenger–taking a seat alongside a small dog and the ashes of Ethan’s late father–on a road trip west. There appears to be a general consensus that the premise of Todd Phillips’s Due Date too closely resembles that of John Hughes’s Planes, Trains & Automobiles, but there’s a vital difference in that Due Date‘s lead characters are legitimately crazy. The exasperated straight man is re-imagined as a sneering jerk full of jealousy and rage (Downey Jr. maintains a cold, sweaty stare throughout), while the lovable klutz is a dangerously irresponsible lout. Roger Ebert once wrote that the Hughes film was about “empathy [and] knowing what the other guy feels.” So it is; by virtue of its characters, Due Date bypasses empathy altogether, yet it still talks about treating other people with a modicum of compassion. Phillips has finally made a naughty comedy that contemplates the consequences of its actions. Here’s a movie in which a father-to-be grows so frustrated with an annoying boy that he socks him in the stomach, then unknowingly mocks a disabled veteran (Danny McBride) and gets his ass kicked for it.
GNOMEO & JULIET
**/**** screenplay by Kelly Asbury & Mark Burton & Kevin Cecil & Emily Cook & Kathy Greenberg & Andy Riley & Steve Hamilton Shaw, based on an original screenplay by John R. Smith & Rob Sprackling
directed by Kelly Asbury
CEDAR RAPIDS
**½/**** starring Ed Helms, John C. Reilly, Anne Heche, Sigourney Weaver
screenplay by Phil Johnston
directed by Miguel Arteta
by Ian PughGnomeo & Juliet is pretty much exactly the movie you’d expect from one of the directors of Shrek 2. On the bright side, it’s also a little bit more. In this latest iteration of Shakespeare’s timeless classic, Montague and Capulet are a couple of pensioners living on Verona Drive whose lawn gnomes spring to life every now and then to wage war on each other. The lad and lass of the title (voiced by James McAvoy and Emily Blunt) meet from opposite sides and fall in love, and so on and so forth. As you may have already guessed, Gnomeo & Juliet makes room for its cutesy puns and pop-culture references by robbing “Romeo & Juliet”‘s premise of all emotional heft: the warring tribes have no sense of familial bond, which renders the central romance completely weightless; and it’s all performed with an absolute minimum amount of bloodshed, culminating in, yes, a happy ending. It’s tempting to cry anti-intellectualism until one considers the film’s predominantly British cast–after all, hasn’t British culture earned the right to make self-deprecating jokes about Shakespeare’s influence? (It just feels right knowing that Michael Caine and Maggie Smith are leading the charge in this gnome war–though Jason Statham voicing an angry, Napoleonic Tybalt sounds more subversive than it actually plays.) In fact, the film’s generally cavalier attitude towards “unassailable” literature gives the impression that it was trying to piss someone off, what with most of the loathing and introspection replaced by the requisite noisy action sequences.
***½/**** Image A- Sound B+ Extras B starring Barbra Streisand, Ryan O’Neal, Kenneth Mars, Madeline Kahn
screenplay by Buck Henry and David Newman & Robert Benton
directed by Peter Bogdanovich
by Bryant Frazer Barely more than 45 minutes in, What’s Up, Doc?, a romantic farce directed by Peter Bogdanovich and starring Ryan O’Neal and Barbra Streisand, reaches a madcap climax set in a San Francisco hotel room–it features an especially hapless O’Neal, an increasingly angry Madeline Kahn, an exploding television set, an insistently ringing telephone, and la Streisand, wrapped in an oversized bath towel, dangling from the window ledge outside–that makes you wonder whatever the hell else the film could have up its sleeve. It’s not simply that the scene is an appropriately hilarious culmination of plot threads involving mistaken identity, musicology, and pre-marital strife, but also that it demonstrates an astonishing commitment on the part of the filmmakers to physical comedy on a grand scale. It’s this sequence that transforms What’s Up, Doc? from a tastefully sophisticated contemporary take on the screwball comedy into a thing of real mayhem. Arriving, as it does, just halfway into the film, it’s a promise of even more flamboyantly orchestrated chaos to come.
*½/****starring Pierce Brosnan, Jennifer Connelly, Ed Harris, Greg Kinnearscreenplay by Doug Max Stone & George Ratliff, based on the novel by Larry Beinhartdirected by George Ratliff by Alex Jackson What a waste. The cast assembled for George Ratliff's Salvation Boulevard is one for the ages. You have Pierce Bronson as super-evangelist Reverend Dan Day, Jennifer Connelly as infatuated housewife Gwen Vandeveer, Ciarán Hinds as Gwen's hard-ass Naval vet father Billy, and Ed Harris as pompous, bearded intellectual Dr. Paul Blaycock. These are traditionally serious dramatic actors in roles that lend themselves to caricature, yet they invest these characters with history…
**½/**** Image A Sound A- Extras B starring Emma Stone, Penn Badgley, Amanda Bynes, Thomas Hayden Church screenplay by Bert V. Royal directed by Will Gluck
by Jefferson Robbins What do I have to do these days to see a teen sex comedy where teen characters get to have sex? Filmmakers have gotten so good at larding chastity tracts with suggestiveness that you come out of the theatre believing, for fifteen minutes or so, that you actually witnessed youth in debauch. So far, the 21st century in teenage fare is like the Hays Code era all over again, only not well-written. Terrified at being accused of portraying high-schoolers doing what millions of high-schoolers do, studios have turned sexual misdirection into the best special effect since the lightsaber.
ALICE IN WONDERLAND **/**** DVD – Image A Sound B+ Extras A BD – Image A- Sound A- Extras A+ story by Winston Hibler, Ted Sears, Bill Peet, Erdman Penner, Joe Rinaldi, Milt Banta, Bill Cottrell, Dick Kelsey, Joe Grant, Dick Huemer, Del Connell, Tom Oreb, John Walbridge, based on Lewis Carroll's The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass directed by Clyde Geronimi & Wilfred Jackson & Hamilton Luske
THE LION KING 1½ The Lion King 3: Hakuna Matata */**** Image A Sound A Extras C+ screenplay by Tom Rogers, Roger Allers and Irene Mecchi and Bill Steinkeller and Evan Spiliotopoulos directed by Bradley Raymond
by Bill Chambers It's not like Alice in Wonderland is necessary and The Lion King 1½ isn't–they're both unnecessary. The two latest animated Disney films to hit DVD, they have little in common formally save that they're jointly inessential; and yet, because of their proximate release windows, parents are likely to pick them up as a pair, and kids are likely to associate them as such. Bright, sophisticated children may arrive at the hypothesis that this is the day that animation died.
*/****starring Justin Phillips, Toby David, Nicola Persky, Brian Woodswritten and directed by Matthew Lessner by Alex Jackson A bunch of twentysomething idealists go out into the woods to get away from civilization, lugging plasma-screen displays and a refrigerator full of Capri Suns along with them. That's basically the one joke of Matthew Lessner's The Woods. It's a pretty good joke. The image of these pseudo-hippies playing "Wii Sports" in the middle of a forest is evocative in a way that cannot be readily communicated with words. Wyatt Garfield's cinematography effectively parodies the look of a Land's End or L.L. Bean…
YOU WILL MEET A TALL DARK STRANGER **/**** Image A Sound B starring Antonio Banderas, Josh Brolin, Anthony Hopkins, Gemma Jones written and directed by Woody Allen
SECRETARIAT **/**** Image A Sound A Extras B starring Diane Lane, John Malkovich, Dylan Walsh, Scott Glenn screenplay by Mike Rich, suggested by the book Secretariat: The Making of a Champion by William Nack directed by Randall Wallace
CONVICTION **/**** starring Hilary Swank, Sam Rockwell, Minnie Driver, Juliette Lewis screenplay by Pamela Gray directed by Tony Goldwyn
by Ian PughYou Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger represents the apotheosis of what shall now be called the New Woody Allen Average–those perfectly competent nothing movies that never rate more than two, two-and-a-half stars. I say that without a hint of sarcasm, and I say that as someone who considers Allen’s work a primary influence–and as the guy who regularly defends Scoop. But I have to be honest: the New Woody Allen Average has become so predictably mediocre that I just can’t take it anymore. The director’s latest surrogate is another novelist, Roy (Josh Brolin), who’s struggling to complete his latest book. It’s putting a strain on his marriage to Sally (Naomi Watts), so he looks into the window of his pretty next-door neighbour (Freida Pinto) for romantic respite. Sally, an art curator, feels the same pressure, and casually drifts closer to her boss, Greg (Antonio Banderas). Sally’s father, Alfie (Anthony Hopkins), has left his wife for a prostitute (Lucy Punch), while his ex, Helena (Gemma Jones), retreats to spirituality, consulting a medium to find out where she stands in the great cosmic plan. It’s a matter of “what you want” versus “what you take” in a race to see which floundering/philandering idiot can make the most tragic mistakes in the span of 90 minutes. Is it any different from Vicky Cristina Barcelona? When you break it down to its most basic components…no, not really.
**½/****starring Rutger Hauer, Brian Downey, Gregory Smith, Molly Dunsworthscreenplay by John Daviesdirected by Jason Eisener by Alex Jackson Director Jason Eisener and screenwriter John Davies must have been left in the care of a particularly negligent babysitter throughout the 1980s. Their Hobo with a Shotgun, an adaptation of a fake trailer the two made for Robert Rodriguez's Grindhouse contest back in 2007 (it won, and was subsequently attached to Canadian prints of the film), not only cites Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, Robocop, and probably Cobra among its myriad references but also pays what I think is an incontrovertible homage to…
BARNEY’S VERSION ***/**** starring Paul Giamatti, Rosamund Pike, Minnie Driver, Dustin Hoffman
screenplay by Michael Konyves, based on the novel by Mordecai Richler
directed by Richard J. Lewis
NO STRINGS ATTACHED **/**** starring Natalie Portman, Ashton Kutcher, Cary Elwes, Kevin Kline
screenplay by Elizabeth Meriwether
directed by Ivan Reitman
by Ian Pugh It’s easier to accept Barney’s Version once you realize it doesn’t have much to say. Little more than a series of vignettes, the film surveys in piecemeal fashion the life of one Barney Panofsky (Paul Giamatti), a Jewish artist who endured three tumultuous marriages (the wives are played by Rachel Lefevre, Minnie Driver, and Rosamund Pike) and the mysterious death of best friend Boogie (Scott Speedman, whom I initially mistook for Hugh Jackman) along the way to producing a popular soap opera. Giamatti doesn’t do outstanding work here, but he’s reliable in that familiar Giamatti way: perpetually locked in a state of concentration, trying to understand the subtext of whatever fortunes or misfortunes befall him. Seems like we’re all trying to figure things out, doesn’t it? The film doesn’t know whether to focus on life as a comedy or as a drama, and for that reason alone, it feels incredibly disjointed. It should be. It’s supposed to be.
by Walter Chaw David Gordon Green continues his burnout trilogy with the medieval stoner swords & sorcery flick Your Highness, a sharp, incisive satire that rips the lid off the long-held secret of smart people-in-the-know that Red Sonja is a piece of shit. It’s an extended, hostile slam of stuff like Clash of the Titans, and just because it’s better than, say, Excalibur, that doesn’t excuse it for being the kind of movie “Mystery Science Theater” would make if it made movies instead of taking shots at them from a privileged position. There’s no love in Your Highness–replacing Harryhausen’s clockwork Bubo with an animatronic crow that’s resurrected from a trash heap in an offhand rejection of the Clash of the Titans remake doesn’t go nearly far enough towards convincing me that Green and his writers, Danny McBride and Ben Best, actually give a damn about the genre or any of its key films. I’m not sure the genre merits much respect, frankly, but all I’m really certain of after this one is that the filmmakers thought Ladyhawke would be a lot better with a fat slob saying “fuck” and wearing a penis around his neck. Indeed, in case you were wondering, Your Highness is in the same family as the asshole who writes “faggot” on your forehead in Sharpie while you’re sleeping.
****/****
by Walter Chaw
by Walter Chaw
by Bill Chambers
by Walter Chaw
by Bryant Frazer