O Masterpiece
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 31, 2009
It is remarkable how the cinema can empower us to see through another person’s eyes — not merely a physical point of view — but an ideological perspective that may altogether differ from our own beliefs. Film can so effectively draw us into a character’s story, we begin to see where he or she is coming from. Some motion pictures wield the power to exploit our common ground of humanity. Gus Van Sant’s “Milk” has this ability.
Sean Penn seems to have become Harvey Milk — the Martin Luther King Jr. of the Gay Rights Movement. At the risk of redundancy, and for clarity’s sake, King is to the Civil Rights Movement what Milk is to the Gay Rights Movement, according to the film’s portrayal of him. (Perhaps there have been other significant figures in gay rights history, but I admit my ignorance of the subject.)
“Milk” is set in the 1970s. It begins with black-and-white images that inform us of the violent clashing between homosexuals and the police. Next we see Harvey Milk, accomplished politician and gay activist, sitting at a table, speaking into a tape recorder. He is keenly aware that his crusade could have him killed, so Milk is telling his tale, leaving his testament.
The film is structured with flashbacks that continue to intercut, from time to time, with Penn’s narration. The flashbacks show us Milk’s life beginning on his 40th birthday, when he meets the love of his life, Scott Smith (James Franco). We see some of the difficult circumstances that gay men face, and these persuade him to pursue a political career, where, in hoping to make a difference, Milk incites a whole revolution. And we follow the resultant turmoil, which is punctuated with victories and defeats.
At its core, “Milk” is more than a film about a gay rights activist — more than historical highlights of a political movement — it’s a bold statement that proclaims that living a homosexual lifestyle (or simply being homosexual) is a basic human right, and perfectly normal. Of course, with this agenda, “Milk” favors the cause of homosexuals and demonizes traditional conservatives. OK, maybe I shouldn’t go so far as to say it “demonizes” conservatives, but the film’s depiction of Milk’s opponents paints them as not much more than small-minded bigots. (Naturally, as a religious, traditional conservative myself, I don’t perceive myself to be a small-minded bigot, but I’m sure there are those who would disagree, especially upon reading the rest of this review.)
Though it is a well made, entertaining drama, “Milk” probably isn’t a film for everyone (but I bet those same people mentioned above would argue that it should be). In fact, when I watched “Milk,” there was only a heterosexual couple with me in the theater. But after about 10 minutes into the film, they left. I don’t know why, but perhaps it was one of the passionate kissing scenes between Sean Penn and James Franco that drove them away.
In any case, if you have an aversion to seeing gay men being affectionate, you’ll probably want to skip this movie. (It’s not my cup of tea, either, but my film criticism subjects me to a number of images I don’t particularly enjoy watching, or personally approve of.)
And for those of you who object to such depictions of homosexuality in the mainstream cinema, you should be aware that Ang Lee’s “Brokeback Mountain” (2005) and “Milk” have paved the way for many more films of this nature. Just the other day, my mom called and told me about “Prayers for Bobby,” a made-for-TV movie about a kid whose parents’ religious intolerance of his homosexuality leads him to suicide.
The times, they are a changin’, and I bet Harvey Milk would be pleased.
Directed by Gus Van Sant
Sean Penn / Emile Hirsch / Josh Brolin
Biography / Drama 128 min.
MPAA: R (for language, some sexual content and brief violence)
U.S. Release Date: November 26, 2008
Copyright 2008: 334
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Henry Poole Is Here (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 28, 2009
Do you ever remember feeling irrationally agitated in school upon noticing that the teacher didn’t completely erase all the lines on the chalkboard? Well, somehow, “Henry Poole Is Here” manages to evoke those same feelings.
But with the wisdom that comes with time, we realize that the teacher’s instruction was of far greater importance than our trivial annoyances.
And so it is with “Henry Poole Is Here,” a film that has a higher purpose for pulling the rug out from under us. The movie questions the merits of faith, pitting believers against nonbelievers. And we take the bait — take sides — and are willingly drawn in to the debate.
Yet the so-called lines on the chalkboard are some intentional contradictions that, at first blush, seem to have been designed to create ambiguity. Upon further thought, we suspect the filmmakers (director Mark Pellington and screenwriter Albert Torres) have succumbed to a bit of filmmaking cowardice, or fear of ultimately choosing a side.
But I’m convinced now that neither suspicion is true. As I’ve considered the film, I’ve concluded that the filmmakers were reaching for an effective way to depict how people will always find ways to reinforce themselves in their own beliefs. The filmmakers’ method of demonstrating this human tendency is subtle enough that I think most viewers will miss the point altogether, and leave their classroom only noticing the lines on the chalkboard, and not the lesson. Indeed, that very thing nearly happened to me.
Though this underscored principle of humans recognizing only the evidence that supports their way of thinking is a worthy theme, “Henry Poole Is Here” isn’t overly entertaining or satisfying.
The film’s name is a miscalculation: After encountering the phrase “Henry Poole Was Here” written several times during the movie, we already know from the title that the verb is going to change tenses, which robs the film of one of its few, potentially fulfilling moments.
When we meet Henry Poole (Luke Wilson), he is buying a house. He’s sold right away (even though it’s not the home he wanted). We can plainly see that Poole is apathetic and listless, and above all, he seems to be irreversibly unhappy.
From the start, Poole becomes an intriguing character, as does his neighbor, Millie (Morgan Lily), a six-year-old who secretly tape-records other people’s conversations and plays them back immediately. The movie draws us in by making us wonder why Poole is so sad and why Millie is so strange.
Less interesting is the side of Poole’s stucco house: A neighbor and busybody, Esperanza (Adriana Barraza), says she can see the face of Christ and calls it a miracle, while Henry only sees a water spot and calls it religious fanaticism. This back-and-forth dialogue goes on and on. Esperanza recruits many other believers from the neighborhood, and Henry — who obviously needs a miracle — only gets more irritated. If I wasn’t imagining things, I started to be able to make out a face on the wall the longer the movie went on. My wife agreed.
So having worked out my feelings for this movie through pondering it at length, I rate “Henry Poole Is Here” as OK, since it’s lacking in entertainment value. But I’ll give the movie credit for being one of the few PG-rated movies that’s intelligent enough to watch.
Directed by Mark Pellington
Luke Wilson / Radha Mitchell / Adriana Barraza
Drama / Comedy 99 min.
MPAA: PG (for thematic elements and some language)
U.S. Release Date: August 15, 2008
Copyright 2008: 333
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 28, 2009
Do you ever remember feeling irrationally agitated in school upon noticing that the teacher didn’t completely erase all the lines on the chalkboard? Well, somehow, “Henry Poole Is Here” manages to evoke those same feelings.
But with the wisdom that comes with time, we realize that the teacher’s instruction was of far greater importance than our trivial annoyances.
And so it is with “Henry Poole Is Here,” a film that has a higher purpose for pulling the rug out from under us. The movie questions the merits of faith, pitting believers against nonbelievers. And we take the bait — take sides — and are willingly drawn in to the debate.
Yet the so-called lines on the chalkboard are some intentional contradictions that, at first blush, seem to have been designed to create ambiguity. Upon further thought, we suspect the filmmakers (director Mark Pellington and screenwriter Albert Torres) have succumbed to a bit of filmmaking cowardice, or fear of ultimately choosing a side.
But I’m convinced now that neither suspicion is true. As I’ve considered the film, I’ve concluded that the filmmakers were reaching for an effective way to depict how people will always find ways to reinforce themselves in their own beliefs. The filmmakers’ method of demonstrating this human tendency is subtle enough that I think most viewers will miss the point altogether, and leave their classroom only noticing the lines on the chalkboard, and not the lesson. Indeed, that very thing nearly happened to me.
Though this underscored principle of humans recognizing only the evidence that supports their way of thinking is a worthy theme, “Henry Poole Is Here” isn’t overly entertaining or satisfying.
The film’s name is a miscalculation: After encountering the phrase “Henry Poole Was Here” written several times during the movie, we already know from the title that the verb is going to change tenses, which robs the film of one of its few, potentially fulfilling moments.
When we meet Henry Poole (Luke Wilson), he is buying a house. He’s sold right away (even though it’s not the home he wanted). We can plainly see that Poole is apathetic and listless, and above all, he seems to be irreversibly unhappy.
From the start, Poole becomes an intriguing character, as does his neighbor, Millie (Morgan Lily), a six-year-old who secretly tape-records other people’s conversations and plays them back immediately. The movie draws us in by making us wonder why Poole is so sad and why Millie is so strange.
Less interesting is the side of Poole’s stucco house: A neighbor and busybody, Esperanza (Adriana Barraza), says she can see the face of Christ and calls it a miracle, while Henry only sees a water spot and calls it religious fanaticism. This back-and-forth dialogue goes on and on. Esperanza recruits many other believers from the neighborhood, and Henry — who obviously needs a miracle — only gets more irritated. If I wasn’t imagining things, I started to be able to make out a face on the wall the longer the movie went on. My wife agreed.
So having worked out my feelings for this movie through pondering it at length, I rate “Henry Poole Is Here” as OK, since it’s lacking in entertainment value. But I’ll give the movie credit for being one of the few PG-rated movies that’s intelligent enough to watch.
Directed by Mark Pellington
Luke Wilson / Radha Mitchell / Adriana Barraza
Drama / Comedy 99 min.
MPAA: PG (for thematic elements and some language)
U.S. Release Date: August 15, 2008
Copyright 2008: 333
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Slumdog Millionaire (2008)
O Masterpiece
X Excellent
O Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 24, 2009
What if all the worst days of your life added up to give you exactly what you needed to experience the best day of your life?
We hear this equation frequently, especially in theology. In the Old Testament, for example, we read that “the Lord blessed the latter end of Job more than his beginning.” Also, “(God) shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain,” or “all things work together for good to them that love God.”
Though it isn’t overtly religious, the brilliance that is “Slumdog Millionaire” is designed after this principle of life’s bitterest lemons rendering sweet lemonade. The film’s trailer reveals that Jamal Malik (Dev Patel) is a triumphant winner on India’s version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?”
The big question is how does an uneducated “slumdog” know the answers to all those questions? Did he cheat? No. He knows the answers because life cheated him. The film is built upon flashbacks between each game-show question that reveal how Jamal’s knowledge of these random answers happens to come from their being burned into his memory through several unbearable experiences. Essentially, Jamal knows the answers because they’re scars on his soul.
I am convinced that an element of great storytelling gives us little satellite stories within the primary story. I’m not referring to relevant subplots that obliquely tie into the principal plot, but instead, fanciful wanderings off the beaten path that help us know something more about the characters.
I’ll never forget the horrid mini tale told in “Gremlins” — from 1984 — when Kate, the character played by Phoebe Cates, explains why she doesn’t like Christmas. (Remember? — because her dad got stuck in the chimney while trying to play Santa Claus for her family, and they didn’t discover him until days later when they started to smell a terrible odor.)
Another more recent example would be in “The Dark Knight,” when Michael Caine tells how he and his cohorts had to deal with an infamous jewel thief in the jungles of Burma. Well, “Slumdog Millionaire” is filled with several of these sad but chilling mini tales, and that’s what makes the film so spectacular.
It has already received widespread critical acclaim: At the 66th Annual Golden Globes, “Slumdog” won four awards, including Best Motion Picture Drama and Best Director for its captain, Danny Boyle. And two days ago we heard the nominees for the 81st Academy Awards. “Slumdog” has 10 nominations, including Best Motion Picture. I suspect it will be a titanic winner.
“Slumdog” is filmed mostly in English, though it’s about 40 percent subtitled. Above all, it is meant to be a love story, but “Slumdog’s” theme, which I mentioned already, is so consuming, it unintentionally eclipses the romance.
Dev Patel’s performance as Jamal should be admired: He’s a serious and sober young man whose confidence comes from his unflinching resilience to fear. Jamal is unafraid, and therefore, unstoppable. How can you intimidate or hurt someone whose life is comprised of so many unthinkable tragedies that pain has become normalcy. And really, Jamal doesn’t care one bit about the money — all he wants is his destiny, his true love, Latika (Freida Pinto). Patel effectively conveys all of the above.
“Slumdog” and its makers have been receiving a lot of heat from India, because it serves as an exposé of the country’s profound poverty. But the film doesn’t blatantly critique India; it frankly shows us the deplorable conditions of its people peripherally, as a conspicuous backdrop to the story.
And yet, even with all its power, “Slumdog” is a throwback to the conventions of Hollywood, even classical cinema — minus the star power — where we have a narrative form, conflict and resolution. But here we are dazzled with familiar elements of formulaic storytelling that have been delivered and executed with excellence.
Directed by Danny Boyle and Loveleen Tandan
Dev Patel / Freida Pinto / Madhur Mittal
Drama / Romance 120 min.
MPAA: R (for some violence, disturbing images and language)
U.S. Release Date: November 12, 2008
Copyright 2008: 332
X Excellent
O Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 24, 2009
What if all the worst days of your life added up to give you exactly what you needed to experience the best day of your life?
We hear this equation frequently, especially in theology. In the Old Testament, for example, we read that “the Lord blessed the latter end of Job more than his beginning.” Also, “(God) shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain,” or “all things work together for good to them that love God.”
Though it isn’t overtly religious, the brilliance that is “Slumdog Millionaire” is designed after this principle of life’s bitterest lemons rendering sweet lemonade. The film’s trailer reveals that Jamal Malik (Dev Patel) is a triumphant winner on India’s version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?”
The big question is how does an uneducated “slumdog” know the answers to all those questions? Did he cheat? No. He knows the answers because life cheated him. The film is built upon flashbacks between each game-show question that reveal how Jamal’s knowledge of these random answers happens to come from their being burned into his memory through several unbearable experiences. Essentially, Jamal knows the answers because they’re scars on his soul.
I am convinced that an element of great storytelling gives us little satellite stories within the primary story. I’m not referring to relevant subplots that obliquely tie into the principal plot, but instead, fanciful wanderings off the beaten path that help us know something more about the characters.
I’ll never forget the horrid mini tale told in “Gremlins” — from 1984 — when Kate, the character played by Phoebe Cates, explains why she doesn’t like Christmas. (Remember? — because her dad got stuck in the chimney while trying to play Santa Claus for her family, and they didn’t discover him until days later when they started to smell a terrible odor.)
Another more recent example would be in “The Dark Knight,” when Michael Caine tells how he and his cohorts had to deal with an infamous jewel thief in the jungles of Burma. Well, “Slumdog Millionaire” is filled with several of these sad but chilling mini tales, and that’s what makes the film so spectacular.
It has already received widespread critical acclaim: At the 66th Annual Golden Globes, “Slumdog” won four awards, including Best Motion Picture Drama and Best Director for its captain, Danny Boyle. And two days ago we heard the nominees for the 81st Academy Awards. “Slumdog” has 10 nominations, including Best Motion Picture. I suspect it will be a titanic winner.
“Slumdog” is filmed mostly in English, though it’s about 40 percent subtitled. Above all, it is meant to be a love story, but “Slumdog’s” theme, which I mentioned already, is so consuming, it unintentionally eclipses the romance.
Dev Patel’s performance as Jamal should be admired: He’s a serious and sober young man whose confidence comes from his unflinching resilience to fear. Jamal is unafraid, and therefore, unstoppable. How can you intimidate or hurt someone whose life is comprised of so many unthinkable tragedies that pain has become normalcy. And really, Jamal doesn’t care one bit about the money — all he wants is his destiny, his true love, Latika (Freida Pinto). Patel effectively conveys all of the above.
“Slumdog” and its makers have been receiving a lot of heat from India, because it serves as an exposé of the country’s profound poverty. But the film doesn’t blatantly critique India; it frankly shows us the deplorable conditions of its people peripherally, as a conspicuous backdrop to the story.
And yet, even with all its power, “Slumdog” is a throwback to the conventions of Hollywood, even classical cinema — minus the star power — where we have a narrative form, conflict and resolution. But here we are dazzled with familiar elements of formulaic storytelling that have been delivered and executed with excellence.
Directed by Danny Boyle and Loveleen Tandan
Dev Patel / Freida Pinto / Madhur Mittal
Drama / Romance 120 min.
MPAA: R (for some violence, disturbing images and language)
U.S. Release Date: November 12, 2008
Copyright 2008: 332
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Nominees for the 81st Academy Awards
Nominations for the 81st Academy Awards were announced this morning by Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences President Sid Ganis and Oscar winner Forest Whitaker. The Academy Awards for outstanding film achievements of 2008 will be presented on Sunday, February 22, 2009 on ABC. (Jason Notes: Yes, “The Dark Knight” was slighted for at least being nominated for Best Picture, and Clint Eastwood was regrettably snubbed with “Gran Torino” for Best Picture and Directing. I predict “Slumdog Millionaire” will win Best Picture, with “Milk” a close second.)
Best Motion Picture of the Year
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)
“Frost/Nixon” (Universal)
“Milk” (Focus Features)
“The Reader” (The Weinstein Company)
“Slumdog Millionaire” (Fox Searchlight)
Achievement in Directing
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” - David Fincher
“Frost/Nixon” - Ron Howard
“Milk” - Gus Van Sant
“The Reader” - Stephen Daldry
“Slumdog Millionaire” - Danny Boyle
Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role
Anne Hathaway in “Rachel Getting Married”
Angelina Jolie in “Changeling”
Melissa Leo in “Frozen River”
Meryl Streep in “Doubt”
Kate Winslet in “The Reader”
Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role
Richard Jenkins in “The Visitor”
Frank Langella in “Frost/Nixon”
Sean Penn in “Milk” (Focus Features)
Brad Pitt in “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”
Mickey Rourke in “The Wrestler”
Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role
Amy Adams in “Doubt”
Penélope Cruz in “Vicky Cristina Barcelona”
Viola Davis in “Doubt”
Taraji P. Henson in “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”
Marisa Tomei in “The Wrestler”
Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role
Josh Brolin in “Milk”
Robert Downey Jr. in “Tropic Thunder”
Philip Seymour Hoffman in “Doubt”
Heath Ledger in “The Dark Knight”
Michael Shannon in “Revolutionary Road”
Best Foreign Language Film of the Year
“The Baader Meinhof Complex” (Germany)
“The Class” (France)
“Departures” (Japan)
“Revanche” (Austria)
“Waltz with Bashir” (Israel)
Best Documentary Feature
“The Betrayal (Nerakhoon)” - Ellen Kuras and Thavisouk Phrasavath
“Encounters at the End of the World” - Werner Herzog and Henry Kaiser
“The Garden” - Scott Hamilton Kennedy
“Man on Wire” - James Marsh and Simon Chinn
“Trouble the Water” - Tia Lessin and Carl Deal
Best Animated Feature Film of the Year
“Bolt”
“Kung Fu Panda”
“WALL-E”
Original Screenplay
“Frozen River” - Written by Courtney Hunt
“Happy-Go-Lucky” - Written by Mike Leigh
“In Bruges” - Written by Martin McDonagh
“Milk” - Written by Dustin Lance Black
“WALL-E” - Screenplay by Andrew Stanton, Jim Reardon, Original story by Andrew Stanton, Pete Docter
Adapted Screenplay
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.), Screenplay by Eric Roth, Screen story by Eric Roth and Robin Swicord
“Doubt” - Written by John Patrick Shanley
“Frost/Nixon” - Screenplay by Peter Morgan
“The Reader” - Screenplay by David Hare
“Slumdog Millionaire” - Screenplay by Simon Beaufoy
Achievement in Cinematography
“Changeling” - Tom Stern
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” - Claudio Miranda
“The Dark Knight” - Wally Pfister
“The Reader” - Chris Menges and Roger Deakins
“Slumdog Millionaire” - Anthony Dod Mantle
Achievement in Film Editing
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” - Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall
“The Dark Knight” - Lee Smith
“Frost/Nixon” - Mike Hill and Dan Hanley
“Milk” - Elliot Graham
“Slumdog Millionaire” - Chris Dickens
Achievement in Sound Editing
“The Dark Knight” - Richard King
“Iron Man” - Frank Eulner and Christopher Boyes
“Slumdog Millionaire” - Tom Sayers
“WALL-E” - Ben Burtt and Matthew Wood
“Wanted” - Wylie Stateman
Achievement in Sound Mixing
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” - David Parker, Michael Semanick, Ren Klyce and Mark Weingarten
“The Dark Knight” - Lora Hirschberg, Gary Rizzo and Ed Novick
“Slumdog Millionaire” - Ian Tapp, Richard Pryke and Resul Pookutty
“WALL-E” - Tom Myers, Michael Semanick and Ben Burtt
“Wanted” - Chris Jenkins, Frank A. Montaño and Petr Forejt
Achievement in Visual Effects
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” - Eric Barba, Steve Preeg, Burt Dalton and Craig Barron
“The Dark Knight” - Nick Davis, Chris Corbould, Tim Webber and Paul Franklin
“Iron Man” - John Nelson, Ben Snow, Dan Sudick and Shane Mahan
Achievement in Art Direction
“Changeling” - Art Direction: James J. Murakami, Set Decoration: Gary Fettis
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” - Art Direction: Donald Graham Burt, Set Decoration: Victor J. Zolfo
“The Dark Knight” - Art Direction: Nathan Crowley, Set Decoration: Peter Lando
“The Duchess” - Art Direction: Michael Carlin, Set Decoration: Rebecca Alleway
“Revolutionary Road” - Art Direction: Kristi Zea, Set Decoration: Debra Schutt
Achievement in Costume Design
“Australia” - Catherine Martin
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” - Jacqueline West
“The Duchess” - Michael O’Connor
“Milk” - Danny Glicker
“Revolutionary Road” - Albert Wolsky
Achievement in Makeup
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” - Greg Cannom
“The Dark Knight” - John Caglione, Jr. and Conor O’Sullivan
“Hellboy II: The Golden Army” - Mike Elizalde and Thom Floutz
Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures (Original score)
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” - Alexandre Desplat
“Defiance” - James Newton Howard
“Milk” - Danny Elfman
“Slumdog Millionaire” - A.R. Rahman
“WALL-E” - Thomas Newman
Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures (Original song)
“Down to Earth” from “WALL-E,” Music by Peter Gabriel and Thomas Newman, Lyric by Peter Gabriel
“Jai Ho” from “Slumdog Millionaire,” Music by A.R. Rahman, Lyric by Gulzar
“O Saya” from “Slumdog Millionaire,” Music and Lyric by A.R. Rahman and Maya Arulpragasam
Best Live Action Short Film
“Auf der Strecke (On the Line)” - Reto Caffi
“Manon on the Asphalt” - Elizabeth Marre and Olivier Pont
“New Boy” - Steph Green and Tamara Anghie
“The Pig” - Tivi Magnusson and Dorte Høgh
“Spielzeugland (Toyland)” - Jochen Alexander Freydank
Best Documentary Short Subject
“The Conscience of Nhem En” - Steven Okazaki
“The Final Inch” - Irene Taylor Brodsky and Tom Grant
“Smile Pinki” - Megan Mylan
“The Witness - From the Balcony of Room 306” - Adam Pertofsky and Margaret Hyde
Best Animated Short Film
“La Maison en Petits Cubes” - Kunio Kato
“Lavatory - Lovestory” - Konstantin Bronzit
“Oktapodi” - Emud Mokhberi and Thierry Marchand
“Presto” - Doug Sweetland
“This Way Up” - Alan Smith and Adam Foulkes
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Nights in Rodanthe (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 20, 2009
Rodanthe is a community in North Carolina that’s ambiguously situated amid Cape Hatteras and the Outer Banks. In 2002 American author Nicholas Sparks published a novel titled “Nights in Rodanthe,” which this movie is adapted from. In 2006 I released a CD whose first track featured a song I wrote titled “Rodanthe,” which is based on a monumental vacation that my family spent there in 1988. So how does this obscure place become the muse for writers’ artistic creations? It’s hard to explain unless you’ve been there.
I haven’t read Sparks’ book, but the film gives us Richard Gere playing Paul Flanner, a visibly agitated doctor who has an uncomfortably unpleasant matter to attend to in Rodanthe. Diane Lane is cast as Adrienne Willis, a divorced (or perhaps separated) mother of two who sneaks away for a few days to think about her ex’s intense pleas to get back together, and to oversee her friend Jean’s (Viola Davis) beachfront bed-and-breakfast — also in Rodanthe. The two burdened singletons meet, and though they are distracted by their respective problems, they are not so preoccupied as to fail to notice how appealing middle-aged counterparts can be.
I’m told that the movie follows the book fairly closely, so I’ll aim my critique at Sparks for the movie’s “imminent storm” scenario, which is a heavy-handed metaphor meant to parallel inevitable conflicts … a storm, I should mention, that leads to an illogical cause-and-effect sequence: The storm hits; the two are frightened; so they have sex.
Screenwriters (and authors) love the “set-up and pay-off” plot frill, where something addressed earlier in the story is “Paul Harvey-ed,” later revealing “the rest of the story.” “Nights in Rodanthe” strains a bit with an equestrian set-up and pay-off.
And perhaps the lowest point of the movie is a pantry-cleaning scene — surely that isn’t in the book! (Watching it is mildly tolerable, but I can’t imagine reading about it.) On the other hand, the highlight of “Nights in Rodanthe” is the doctor’s discussion with Robert Torrelson (Scott Glenn), with whom Paul has the inciting-incident conflict.
Some couples work well together on screen. Gere and Lane are two such people. If you like what you see here, they were also cast together in Coppola’s “The Cotton Club” (1984) and “Unfaithful” in 2002 (but Olivier Martinez tends to get in the way a little of the latter).
In summary, since it is so steeped in melodrama and manipulating emotional cues, “Nights in Rodanthe” is basically a visual manifestation of a country song committed to film.
P.S. This concluding tidbit has nothing to do with “Nights in Rodanthe” or the cinema, for that matter, but I note here — if only for posterity — that today, Jan. 20, 2009, Barack Obama became the first black president of the United States. Obama is the 44th U.S. president.
Directed by George C. Wolfe
Richard Gere / Diane Lane / Scott Glenn
Romance 97 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for some sensuality)
U.S. Release Date: September 26, 2008
Copyright 2008: 316
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 20, 2009
Rodanthe is a community in North Carolina that’s ambiguously situated amid Cape Hatteras and the Outer Banks. In 2002 American author Nicholas Sparks published a novel titled “Nights in Rodanthe,” which this movie is adapted from. In 2006 I released a CD whose first track featured a song I wrote titled “Rodanthe,” which is based on a monumental vacation that my family spent there in 1988. So how does this obscure place become the muse for writers’ artistic creations? It’s hard to explain unless you’ve been there.
I haven’t read Sparks’ book, but the film gives us Richard Gere playing Paul Flanner, a visibly agitated doctor who has an uncomfortably unpleasant matter to attend to in Rodanthe. Diane Lane is cast as Adrienne Willis, a divorced (or perhaps separated) mother of two who sneaks away for a few days to think about her ex’s intense pleas to get back together, and to oversee her friend Jean’s (Viola Davis) beachfront bed-and-breakfast — also in Rodanthe. The two burdened singletons meet, and though they are distracted by their respective problems, they are not so preoccupied as to fail to notice how appealing middle-aged counterparts can be.
I’m told that the movie follows the book fairly closely, so I’ll aim my critique at Sparks for the movie’s “imminent storm” scenario, which is a heavy-handed metaphor meant to parallel inevitable conflicts … a storm, I should mention, that leads to an illogical cause-and-effect sequence: The storm hits; the two are frightened; so they have sex.
Screenwriters (and authors) love the “set-up and pay-off” plot frill, where something addressed earlier in the story is “Paul Harvey-ed,” later revealing “the rest of the story.” “Nights in Rodanthe” strains a bit with an equestrian set-up and pay-off.
And perhaps the lowest point of the movie is a pantry-cleaning scene — surely that isn’t in the book! (Watching it is mildly tolerable, but I can’t imagine reading about it.) On the other hand, the highlight of “Nights in Rodanthe” is the doctor’s discussion with Robert Torrelson (Scott Glenn), with whom Paul has the inciting-incident conflict.
Some couples work well together on screen. Gere and Lane are two such people. If you like what you see here, they were also cast together in Coppola’s “The Cotton Club” (1984) and “Unfaithful” in 2002 (but Olivier Martinez tends to get in the way a little of the latter).
In summary, since it is so steeped in melodrama and manipulating emotional cues, “Nights in Rodanthe” is basically a visual manifestation of a country song committed to film.
P.S. This concluding tidbit has nothing to do with “Nights in Rodanthe” or the cinema, for that matter, but I note here — if only for posterity — that today, Jan. 20, 2009, Barack Obama became the first black president of the United States. Obama is the 44th U.S. president.
Directed by George C. Wolfe
Richard Gere / Diane Lane / Scott Glenn
Romance 97 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for some sensuality)
U.S. Release Date: September 26, 2008
Copyright 2008: 316
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Quarantine (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 18, 2009
Exactly a year ago today I saw “Cloverfield” upon its theater release, and I loved it. In fact, I ranked “Cloverfield” the third best film of 2008 (acknowledging that I only saw a limited number of critically acclaimed films last year).
“Quarantine,” a much lesser movie, seems to be modeled after “Cloverfield’s” entertaining subjective point-of-view gimmick: I call it “spectator casting,” which is where we, the viewers, are figuratively dragged out of our seats and directly involved in the film. In both “Cloverfield” and “Quarantine,” we essentially become the cameramen.
The spectator always identifies with the camera, because it is the universe-bridging eye that enables us to peer into the world portrayed within the film. Indeed, the exploitation of this association is not new to film or television. There have been variations on this technique for quite some time.
Alfred Hitchcock pulled us into his pictures by trapping us into owning some of his characters’ guilt: We become co-voyeurs in “Rear Window” (1954), as well as in “Psycho” (1960); the latter even has us sympathizing with Norman Bates, a murderer, edging us creepily close to becoming his co-conspirators.
Then on TV, “M*A*S*H” had an episode titled “Point of View” (1978) [Season 7, Episode 10], where our subjective point of view made us the patient, as the cast of the show spoke directly to us (the camera).
And of course, I don’t cite these examples as the first instances of employing this spectator casting device. Unfortunately, I can’t readily reference the first example (perhaps it was the last shot of Porter’s “The Great Train Robbery” (1903), when that six-shooter is unloaded at us).
All this unnecessary prelude is noted for its cinematic interest and merely to state that “Quarantine” isn’t overly novel, though it’s somewhat unusual.
Angela Vidal (Jennifer Carpenter) works the evening shift as a news reporter for a local TV station in Los Angeles. She and her faithful cameraman, Scott (Steve Harris), are doing a feature story where they follow L.A.’s finest (the fire department) on some 911 calls.
It turns out that they receive a medical call about some old lady who’s screaming abnormally. This is the portion you’ve probably seen on the previews. The lady has some alarming problems, and bloodshed ensues, all while the camera keeps rolling. But “Quarantine” isn’t about this one lady, as the previews would lead you to believe. Basically, it’s another zombie movie that begins unsettlingly well and progressively transgresses toward mediocrity as it proceeds all the way overboard.
Both “Cloverfield” and “Quarantine” have been criticized for making their viewers experience motion sickness with their shaky, handheld cinematography. “Cloverfield” was tolerable, but the photography in “Quarantine” is irritatingly erratic, which was probably intended to heighten the horror, but alas, it diminishes the overall production.
“Quarantine” does do something original that I don’t think I’ve seen in any other movie: At one point the cameraman uses his camera to pummel “something” to death. Since we identify with the camera, this act makes us the killer — a perverse but brilliant twist on Hitchcockian transference of guilt.
Directed by John Erick Dowdle
Jennifer Carpenter / Steve Harris / Jay Hernandez
Thriller / Horror 89 min.
MPAA: R (for bloody violent and disturbing content, terror and language)
U.S. Release Date: October 10, 2008
Copyright 2008: 318
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 18, 2009
Exactly a year ago today I saw “Cloverfield” upon its theater release, and I loved it. In fact, I ranked “Cloverfield” the third best film of 2008 (acknowledging that I only saw a limited number of critically acclaimed films last year).
“Quarantine,” a much lesser movie, seems to be modeled after “Cloverfield’s” entertaining subjective point-of-view gimmick: I call it “spectator casting,” which is where we, the viewers, are figuratively dragged out of our seats and directly involved in the film. In both “Cloverfield” and “Quarantine,” we essentially become the cameramen.
The spectator always identifies with the camera, because it is the universe-bridging eye that enables us to peer into the world portrayed within the film. Indeed, the exploitation of this association is not new to film or television. There have been variations on this technique for quite some time.
Alfred Hitchcock pulled us into his pictures by trapping us into owning some of his characters’ guilt: We become co-voyeurs in “Rear Window” (1954), as well as in “Psycho” (1960); the latter even has us sympathizing with Norman Bates, a murderer, edging us creepily close to becoming his co-conspirators.
Then on TV, “M*A*S*H” had an episode titled “Point of View” (1978) [Season 7, Episode 10], where our subjective point of view made us the patient, as the cast of the show spoke directly to us (the camera).
And of course, I don’t cite these examples as the first instances of employing this spectator casting device. Unfortunately, I can’t readily reference the first example (perhaps it was the last shot of Porter’s “The Great Train Robbery” (1903), when that six-shooter is unloaded at us).
All this unnecessary prelude is noted for its cinematic interest and merely to state that “Quarantine” isn’t overly novel, though it’s somewhat unusual.
Angela Vidal (Jennifer Carpenter) works the evening shift as a news reporter for a local TV station in Los Angeles. She and her faithful cameraman, Scott (Steve Harris), are doing a feature story where they follow L.A.’s finest (the fire department) on some 911 calls.
It turns out that they receive a medical call about some old lady who’s screaming abnormally. This is the portion you’ve probably seen on the previews. The lady has some alarming problems, and bloodshed ensues, all while the camera keeps rolling. But “Quarantine” isn’t about this one lady, as the previews would lead you to believe. Basically, it’s another zombie movie that begins unsettlingly well and progressively transgresses toward mediocrity as it proceeds all the way overboard.
Both “Cloverfield” and “Quarantine” have been criticized for making their viewers experience motion sickness with their shaky, handheld cinematography. “Cloverfield” was tolerable, but the photography in “Quarantine” is irritatingly erratic, which was probably intended to heighten the horror, but alas, it diminishes the overall production.
“Quarantine” does do something original that I don’t think I’ve seen in any other movie: At one point the cameraman uses his camera to pummel “something” to death. Since we identify with the camera, this act makes us the killer — a perverse but brilliant twist on Hitchcockian transference of guilt.
Directed by John Erick Dowdle
Jennifer Carpenter / Steve Harris / Jay Hernandez
Thriller / Horror 89 min.
MPAA: R (for bloody violent and disturbing content, terror and language)
U.S. Release Date: October 10, 2008
Copyright 2008: 318
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Appaloosa (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 17, 2009
In addition to “Appaloosa,” actor-director Ed Harris also directed and starred in “Pollock” (2000), a biography about abstract painter Jackson Pollock. I haven’t seen it, so I have no verdict on that one.
But I can tell you that “Appaloosa” aspires to the believable tone of better, more successful westerns like “Unforgiven” (1992) and the recent remake of “3:10 to Yuma” (2007). Of the three, “Appaloosa” is the third-place horse, but it still runs a respectable, 101-minute race.
The year is 1882 and the place is Appaloosa, a dusty town situated in the New Mexico Territory. A group of ruffians led by Randall Bragg (Jeremy Irons) has begun plaguing the community with violence and lawlessness.
So Appaloosa hires the eminent Virgil Cole (Ed Harris) and his right-hand man, Everett Hitch (Viggo Mortensen) to keep the peace by any means necessary. Indeed, the duo has a reputation for being proficient at such tasks.
That’s the premise of “Appaloosa.” In many ways, it follows the usual conventions associated with this familiar plot, but “Appaloosa” also defies our expectations, here and there, which is refreshing.
And though it’s good, from the looks of it, “Appaloosa” seems like it would be an exceptional western. Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen paired as town cleaner-uppers — how could it possibly miss? I don’t know. It’s difficult to articulate. I guess in its attempt to aspire to be a realistic western, “Appaloosa” isn’t as engaging as other films that more closely typify the genre.
Perhaps more disappointing, Harris and Mortensen just aren’t as good as you’d expect them to be … for that, you’d need to refer to “A History of Violence” (2005).
Directed by Ed Harris
Ed Harris / Viggo Mortensen / Jeremy Irons
Western 101 min.
MPAA: R (for some violence and language)
U.S. Release Date: October 3, 2008
Copyright 2008: 319
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 17, 2009
In addition to “Appaloosa,” actor-director Ed Harris also directed and starred in “Pollock” (2000), a biography about abstract painter Jackson Pollock. I haven’t seen it, so I have no verdict on that one.
But I can tell you that “Appaloosa” aspires to the believable tone of better, more successful westerns like “Unforgiven” (1992) and the recent remake of “3:10 to Yuma” (2007). Of the three, “Appaloosa” is the third-place horse, but it still runs a respectable, 101-minute race.
The year is 1882 and the place is Appaloosa, a dusty town situated in the New Mexico Territory. A group of ruffians led by Randall Bragg (Jeremy Irons) has begun plaguing the community with violence and lawlessness.
So Appaloosa hires the eminent Virgil Cole (Ed Harris) and his right-hand man, Everett Hitch (Viggo Mortensen) to keep the peace by any means necessary. Indeed, the duo has a reputation for being proficient at such tasks.
That’s the premise of “Appaloosa.” In many ways, it follows the usual conventions associated with this familiar plot, but “Appaloosa” also defies our expectations, here and there, which is refreshing.
And though it’s good, from the looks of it, “Appaloosa” seems like it would be an exceptional western. Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen paired as town cleaner-uppers — how could it possibly miss? I don’t know. It’s difficult to articulate. I guess in its attempt to aspire to be a realistic western, “Appaloosa” isn’t as engaging as other films that more closely typify the genre.
Perhaps more disappointing, Harris and Mortensen just aren’t as good as you’d expect them to be … for that, you’d need to refer to “A History of Violence” (2005).
Directed by Ed Harris
Ed Harris / Viggo Mortensen / Jeremy Irons
Western 101 min.
MPAA: R (for some violence and language)
U.S. Release Date: October 3, 2008
Copyright 2008: 319
Friday, January 16, 2009
Doubt (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 16, 2009
Where I grew up our sixth grade classes went camping for a week. On one of the nights, we were divided into groups and encouraged to write skits; our only requirement was to design a tale that explained how the “mongoose” got its name.
I wrote my group’s script. Inevitably, since I had no idea what a mongoose was, our skit ended with a gaggle of baby geese following their mother, with one lagging behind, calling, “Mom-goose! Mom-goose!” … Exeunt. The end. I know, profoundly dumb, but I was in sixth grade.
“Doubt,” which is based on a stage play by John Patrick Shanley (who also wrote the screenplay and directed), more or less ends his motion picture like my sixth-grade play. Up to that point, it’s a wonderful film.
Set in December of 1964, “Doubt” magnifies the conflict between three people who have completely committed themselves to God, thereby embracing faith and typically eschewing doubt.
Meryl Streep plays Sister Aloysius Beauvier, a disciplinarian nun who surely frightens even the devil. Philip Seymour Hoffman is Father Brendan Flynn, an insightful priest who perceives imperfections within himself just as easily as he can in others. And Amy Adams plays Sister James, whose bright-eyed innocence almost makes the other nuns seems scandalous.
In short, Sister Beauvier suspects that Father Flynn is molesting one of the altar boys, a new student at their private Catholic school, St. Nicholas. Sister James is dragged into the ensuing fray. Conflict. More conflicts. Exeunt. The end.
“Doubt” is almost all dialogue — very clean — and could have possibly been rated PG. It is worth seeing for its acting alone: Streep, Hoffman, Adams — bravo all. But looking at its principals, we knew “Doubt” would give us worthy performances.
What we did not know, however (but I suspected it), is how “Doubt” would be riddled with ambiguity, subjecting us to tangibly taste of the same internal struggle that is suggested by its title. The film (and no doubt the play) engages in this game with us where we teeter back and forth with our own doubts, which follow suit with the characters’ suspicions. Brilliant.
And yet, all along we come to desperately depend on an eventual, definitive resolution — the long-awaited answers to our burning questions. Unfortunately, “Doubt’s” precarious dance with dubiety is its ultimate undoing.
Directed by John Patrick Shanley
Meryl Streep / Philip Seymour Hoffman / Amy Adams
Drama 104 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for thematic material)
U.S. Release Date: December 12, 2008
Copyright 2008: 331
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 16, 2009
Where I grew up our sixth grade classes went camping for a week. On one of the nights, we were divided into groups and encouraged to write skits; our only requirement was to design a tale that explained how the “mongoose” got its name.
I wrote my group’s script. Inevitably, since I had no idea what a mongoose was, our skit ended with a gaggle of baby geese following their mother, with one lagging behind, calling, “Mom-goose! Mom-goose!” … Exeunt. The end. I know, profoundly dumb, but I was in sixth grade.
“Doubt,” which is based on a stage play by John Patrick Shanley (who also wrote the screenplay and directed), more or less ends his motion picture like my sixth-grade play. Up to that point, it’s a wonderful film.
Set in December of 1964, “Doubt” magnifies the conflict between three people who have completely committed themselves to God, thereby embracing faith and typically eschewing doubt.
Meryl Streep plays Sister Aloysius Beauvier, a disciplinarian nun who surely frightens even the devil. Philip Seymour Hoffman is Father Brendan Flynn, an insightful priest who perceives imperfections within himself just as easily as he can in others. And Amy Adams plays Sister James, whose bright-eyed innocence almost makes the other nuns seems scandalous.
In short, Sister Beauvier suspects that Father Flynn is molesting one of the altar boys, a new student at their private Catholic school, St. Nicholas. Sister James is dragged into the ensuing fray. Conflict. More conflicts. Exeunt. The end.
“Doubt” is almost all dialogue — very clean — and could have possibly been rated PG. It is worth seeing for its acting alone: Streep, Hoffman, Adams — bravo all. But looking at its principals, we knew “Doubt” would give us worthy performances.
What we did not know, however (but I suspected it), is how “Doubt” would be riddled with ambiguity, subjecting us to tangibly taste of the same internal struggle that is suggested by its title. The film (and no doubt the play) engages in this game with us where we teeter back and forth with our own doubts, which follow suit with the characters’ suspicions. Brilliant.
And yet, all along we come to desperately depend on an eventual, definitive resolution — the long-awaited answers to our burning questions. Unfortunately, “Doubt’s” precarious dance with dubiety is its ultimate undoing.
Directed by John Patrick Shanley
Meryl Streep / Philip Seymour Hoffman / Amy Adams
Drama 104 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for thematic material)
U.S. Release Date: December 12, 2008
Copyright 2008: 331
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Pride and Glory (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 13, 2009
Evidently the cop movie genre is endlessly fascinating, which is not to say that all cop movies are individually interesting, but collectively they have intrigued the movie-going public for decades. Interestingly, similar to those “Othello” game chips which are white on one side — black on the other, police films are also simultaneously criminal films. So what is it about this genre that we find so captivating? The cops, or the robbers? Through which group are we vicariously living?
Well, more often than not, it’s not black and white, like Othello. We have myriad films about corrupt cops, and a few with antihero criminals. Usually movies have a good dose of villainy on both sides of the jail cell. “Pride and Glory” poses this kind of uneasy predicament, a shameful “Serpico” (1973) scenario, where the good guy has to deal with bad guys on the streets, as well as in his department.
Yes, “Pride and Glory” has its treachery, and it’s an unpleasantly gritty affair. There’s a particularly awful scene in this movie where some dude’s baby is used for leverage, to make him talk. And though I’m sure “no babies were harmed in the making of this film,” had it gone on five seconds longer, (I’d like to think) I would have left the theater. No doubt much of today’s desensitized audience wouldn’t flinch, but I can’t remember another film that pushes that same dismal circumstance to such limits.
I should admit that my relatively newfound fatherhood (one year today!) has made me a little soft, but I couldn’t help but think the filmmakers should be ashamed of themselves for this appalling scene. Then again, using precariously placed babies to harrow viewers is nothing new to the cinema: Even the infamous Odessa steps sequence in Eisenstein’s “Battleship Potemkin” — from 1925! — employs a pitifully helpless infant in a doomed baby carriage.
As for the story, I’m reluctant to describe much because of its intended secrets. Essentially, there’s a father (Jon Voight) and his two sons (Edward Norton and Colin Farrell) who are all veterans of the NYPD in Brooklyn. When four officers get killed in the line of duty, the family becomes closely entangled in the investigation.
Edward Norton is a fine actor; "Primal Fear" (1996) establishes that fact. And we saw in "The Italian Job" (2003) that Norton can pull off “downright despicable” easily enough. He even handles himself well in "The Incredible Hulk" (2008), which would have been surprisingly tricky to negotiate. Think about it: If somebody makes you angry enough, you turn into a monster … that gig is a red-carpet invitation, beggin' for you to over-act. See Ben Stiller in “Mystery Men” (1999).
In spite of his proven abilities, Norton's tough-as-nails cop persona doesn't sell me. In one scene Norton’s character chases down (and roughs-up) an informant — who's obviously afraid of him — and it just doesn't work. I don’t believe it.
Otherwise, “Pride and Glory” is a pretty good (albeit violent) movie. And though it’s awfully reminiscent of the previous year’s “We Own the Night,” and about a million other cop movies, “Pride and Glory” is a satisfying fix for the hero — or villain — in you.
Directed by Gavin O’Connor
Edward Norton / Colin Farrell / Jon Voight
Crime 130 min.
MPAA: R (for strong violence, pervasive language and brief drug content)
U.S. Release Date: October 24, 2008
Copyright 2008: 320
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 13, 2009
Evidently the cop movie genre is endlessly fascinating, which is not to say that all cop movies are individually interesting, but collectively they have intrigued the movie-going public for decades. Interestingly, similar to those “Othello” game chips which are white on one side — black on the other, police films are also simultaneously criminal films. So what is it about this genre that we find so captivating? The cops, or the robbers? Through which group are we vicariously living?
Well, more often than not, it’s not black and white, like Othello. We have myriad films about corrupt cops, and a few with antihero criminals. Usually movies have a good dose of villainy on both sides of the jail cell. “Pride and Glory” poses this kind of uneasy predicament, a shameful “Serpico” (1973) scenario, where the good guy has to deal with bad guys on the streets, as well as in his department.
Yes, “Pride and Glory” has its treachery, and it’s an unpleasantly gritty affair. There’s a particularly awful scene in this movie where some dude’s baby is used for leverage, to make him talk. And though I’m sure “no babies were harmed in the making of this film,” had it gone on five seconds longer, (I’d like to think) I would have left the theater. No doubt much of today’s desensitized audience wouldn’t flinch, but I can’t remember another film that pushes that same dismal circumstance to such limits.
I should admit that my relatively newfound fatherhood (one year today!) has made me a little soft, but I couldn’t help but think the filmmakers should be ashamed of themselves for this appalling scene. Then again, using precariously placed babies to harrow viewers is nothing new to the cinema: Even the infamous Odessa steps sequence in Eisenstein’s “Battleship Potemkin” — from 1925! — employs a pitifully helpless infant in a doomed baby carriage.
As for the story, I’m reluctant to describe much because of its intended secrets. Essentially, there’s a father (Jon Voight) and his two sons (Edward Norton and Colin Farrell) who are all veterans of the NYPD in Brooklyn. When four officers get killed in the line of duty, the family becomes closely entangled in the investigation.
Edward Norton is a fine actor; "Primal Fear" (1996) establishes that fact. And we saw in "The Italian Job" (2003) that Norton can pull off “downright despicable” easily enough. He even handles himself well in "The Incredible Hulk" (2008), which would have been surprisingly tricky to negotiate. Think about it: If somebody makes you angry enough, you turn into a monster … that gig is a red-carpet invitation, beggin' for you to over-act. See Ben Stiller in “Mystery Men” (1999).
In spite of his proven abilities, Norton's tough-as-nails cop persona doesn't sell me. In one scene Norton’s character chases down (and roughs-up) an informant — who's obviously afraid of him — and it just doesn't work. I don’t believe it.
Otherwise, “Pride and Glory” is a pretty good (albeit violent) movie. And though it’s awfully reminiscent of the previous year’s “We Own the Night,” and about a million other cop movies, “Pride and Glory” is a satisfying fix for the hero — or villain — in you.
Directed by Gavin O’Connor
Edward Norton / Colin Farrell / Jon Voight
Crime 130 min.
MPAA: R (for strong violence, pervasive language and brief drug content)
U.S. Release Date: October 24, 2008
Copyright 2008: 320
Sunday, January 11, 2009
4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days (2008)
O Masterpiece
X Excellent
O Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 11, 2009
Without question, “4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days” has the saddest scene I have ever witnessed in the cinema. The sadness is so profound during this moment, it disquiets the soul. If you’ve seen this film, you’ll know exactly what I’m referring to. I dare say it’s unforgettable — I know I’ll never forget it.
“4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days” tells a simple story (with complex implications), but it’s a horrifying one. Not horrifying in the same way as some slasher flick or a supernatural monster movie, but this film is alarming for its stark plausibility. It could happen; it has happened; it does happen.
Somewhat like Lars von Trier’s “Dogville” (2003), “4 Months…” is troubling for what it purports about the unscrupulousness of at least some of those around us. None of the native residents in “Dogville” was a serial killer — and no one in “4 Months…” is a serial killer (though I guess that’s debatable, technically speaking), but both films provoke our worrisome speculation about what your next-door neighbor might be capable of within the privacy of his or her own home.
Set in Romania in 1987, “4 Months…” is a film about a young woman named Gabriela (Laura Vasiliu) who wants to get an abortion, but at that time in Romania, abortions were illegal. (Roger Ebert noted in his review that Romania was under the rule of Nicolae Ceausescu, who forbade abortions not for moral reasons but because he “wanted more subjects to rule.”)
The expecting “Gabita,” as she is called, is determined to undergo the procedure, so she and her friend, Otilia (Anamaria Marinca), seek out the services of a black-market abortionist (Vlad Ivanov). And we follow along and watch the two girls’ perilous events.
Notably, it’s difficult to take a definitive stance on whether “4 Months…” is pro- or anti-abortion. To me, the film paints such bleakness on both sides of the fence, it seems to purposely state the opposing cases (abortion equals murder — versus — desperate times call for unsafe measures) to remove itself from the fray that it may be free to tell its story.
I wouldn’t call this film entertaining; in fact, it’s decidedly unpleasant to watch. But regardless of your feelings — whether you’re pro-life or pro-choice — I think every adult should see this film.
“4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days” has the capacity to truly be a life-changing film for advocates of either moral position.
Directed by Cristian Mungiu
Anamaria Marinca / Laura Vasiliu / Vlad Ivanov
Drama 113 min.
MPAA: Not Rated (but R)
U.S. Release Date: January 25, 2008
Copyright 2008: 321
X Excellent
O Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 11, 2009
Without question, “4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days” has the saddest scene I have ever witnessed in the cinema. The sadness is so profound during this moment, it disquiets the soul. If you’ve seen this film, you’ll know exactly what I’m referring to. I dare say it’s unforgettable — I know I’ll never forget it.
“4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days” tells a simple story (with complex implications), but it’s a horrifying one. Not horrifying in the same way as some slasher flick or a supernatural monster movie, but this film is alarming for its stark plausibility. It could happen; it has happened; it does happen.
Somewhat like Lars von Trier’s “Dogville” (2003), “4 Months…” is troubling for what it purports about the unscrupulousness of at least some of those around us. None of the native residents in “Dogville” was a serial killer — and no one in “4 Months…” is a serial killer (though I guess that’s debatable, technically speaking), but both films provoke our worrisome speculation about what your next-door neighbor might be capable of within the privacy of his or her own home.
Set in Romania in 1987, “4 Months…” is a film about a young woman named Gabriela (Laura Vasiliu) who wants to get an abortion, but at that time in Romania, abortions were illegal. (Roger Ebert noted in his review that Romania was under the rule of Nicolae Ceausescu, who forbade abortions not for moral reasons but because he “wanted more subjects to rule.”)
The expecting “Gabita,” as she is called, is determined to undergo the procedure, so she and her friend, Otilia (Anamaria Marinca), seek out the services of a black-market abortionist (Vlad Ivanov). And we follow along and watch the two girls’ perilous events.
Notably, it’s difficult to take a definitive stance on whether “4 Months…” is pro- or anti-abortion. To me, the film paints such bleakness on both sides of the fence, it seems to purposely state the opposing cases (abortion equals murder — versus — desperate times call for unsafe measures) to remove itself from the fray that it may be free to tell its story.
I wouldn’t call this film entertaining; in fact, it’s decidedly unpleasant to watch. But regardless of your feelings — whether you’re pro-life or pro-choice — I think every adult should see this film.
“4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days” has the capacity to truly be a life-changing film for advocates of either moral position.
Directed by Cristian Mungiu
Anamaria Marinca / Laura Vasiliu / Vlad Ivanov
Drama 113 min.
MPAA: Not Rated (but R)
U.S. Release Date: January 25, 2008
Copyright 2008: 321
Saturday, January 10, 2009
W. (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 10, 2009
The first thing you should know about Oliver Stone’s “W.” is that it’s not a feature-length “Saturday Night Live” skit (even though it appears to be designed solely to jeer the president) because “SNL” is actually funny on occasion.
In fact, I found it difficult to determine the tone, and therefore, the objective of Stone’s film: President Bush is simultaneously portrayed critically and sympathetically. This ambiguous dynamic of “W.” is somewhat remarkable, as well as frustrating.
And though Josh Brolin gives a fair performance as George W. Bush, overall, I didn’t like “W.” Its scope is too broad, and its “facts” too speculative. Writer Stanley Weiser had a lot of blanks to fill in — and even more ground to cover pertaining to time and events.
(I will give accolades to Sarah Finn, who is given the credit for casting “W.”; with Richard Dreyfuss as Dick Cheney, Elizabeth Banks as an uncanny Laura Bush, Ioan Gruffudd as Tony Blair, Toby Jones as Karl Rove, and Thandie Newton as Condoleezza Rice, the actors are exceptionally well matched in appearance and talent for their respective roles.)
But back to Weiser’s screenplay, “W.” hits on Bush’s life beginning with his college fraternity days, skims over his political aspirations, and spans the highlights of the president’s eight-year administration. All this is done through flashbacks from the slowly progressing present, much like we saw in “For the Love of the Game” (1999).
Speaking of baseball, “W.” attempts to reveal — even expose — Bush’s deep love for America’s favorite pastime. I think this insight, along with other aspects of “W.,” evokes pity for the man, who, it turns out, is in fact just a man, not a monster.
Despite this slick, modern age of cinema, even some non-CGI-laden films seem unauthentic, such as “Lions for Lambs” (2007). “W.” has a similar artificiality that is off-putting to me. Perhaps it is the historical-fiction nature of the film, as opposed to its physical production design. To some degree, “W.” seems more like a made-for-TV movie than a widespread theater-release.
On a personal but non-political note, I’ll never forget how my wife and I found a walking stick after one of the Bush-Kerry debates in 2004. We named him “Dubya.” Our walking stick was disappointing, however, because it wasn’t a walking stick after all: It was only a stick.
Directed by Oliver Stone
Josh Brolin / Richard Dreyfuss / Elizabeth Banks
Biography / Drama 129 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for language including sexual references, some alcohol abuse and brief disturbing war images)
U.S. Release Date: October 17, 2008
Copyright 2008: 322
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 10, 2009
The first thing you should know about Oliver Stone’s “W.” is that it’s not a feature-length “Saturday Night Live” skit (even though it appears to be designed solely to jeer the president) because “SNL” is actually funny on occasion.
In fact, I found it difficult to determine the tone, and therefore, the objective of Stone’s film: President Bush is simultaneously portrayed critically and sympathetically. This ambiguous dynamic of “W.” is somewhat remarkable, as well as frustrating.
And though Josh Brolin gives a fair performance as George W. Bush, overall, I didn’t like “W.” Its scope is too broad, and its “facts” too speculative. Writer Stanley Weiser had a lot of blanks to fill in — and even more ground to cover pertaining to time and events.
(I will give accolades to Sarah Finn, who is given the credit for casting “W.”; with Richard Dreyfuss as Dick Cheney, Elizabeth Banks as an uncanny Laura Bush, Ioan Gruffudd as Tony Blair, Toby Jones as Karl Rove, and Thandie Newton as Condoleezza Rice, the actors are exceptionally well matched in appearance and talent for their respective roles.)
But back to Weiser’s screenplay, “W.” hits on Bush’s life beginning with his college fraternity days, skims over his political aspirations, and spans the highlights of the president’s eight-year administration. All this is done through flashbacks from the slowly progressing present, much like we saw in “For the Love of the Game” (1999).
Speaking of baseball, “W.” attempts to reveal — even expose — Bush’s deep love for America’s favorite pastime. I think this insight, along with other aspects of “W.,” evokes pity for the man, who, it turns out, is in fact just a man, not a monster.
Despite this slick, modern age of cinema, even some non-CGI-laden films seem unauthentic, such as “Lions for Lambs” (2007). “W.” has a similar artificiality that is off-putting to me. Perhaps it is the historical-fiction nature of the film, as opposed to its physical production design. To some degree, “W.” seems more like a made-for-TV movie than a widespread theater-release.
On a personal but non-political note, I’ll never forget how my wife and I found a walking stick after one of the Bush-Kerry debates in 2004. We named him “Dubya.” Our walking stick was disappointing, however, because it wasn’t a walking stick after all: It was only a stick.
Directed by Oliver Stone
Josh Brolin / Richard Dreyfuss / Elizabeth Banks
Biography / Drama 129 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for language including sexual references, some alcohol abuse and brief disturbing war images)
U.S. Release Date: October 17, 2008
Copyright 2008: 322
Friday, January 9, 2009
Gran Torino (2009)
O Masterpiece
X Excellent
O Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 9, 2009
If only most movies could be like “Gran Torino.” Truly excellent films (like this one) never have to strain; they make great filmmaking seem so easy, so effortless. And it’s precisely films like “Gran Torino” that make us critics seem so jaded and cynical when we’re faced with the much lesser movies that parade through theaters, week after week, like “Bride Wars” or “The Unborn” (which both also opened today).
For Clint Eastwood fans, “Gran Torino” fulfills almost everything you’d want in an Eastwood film. But his latest character, Walt Kowalski, isn’t invincible or unbeatable. He acts appropriately aged, revealing his elderly frailties. More importantly, he’s a compassionate soul beneath that leathery exterior, and we come to be awed by his deep goodness. Indeed, Walt is similar to Eastwood’s Frankie Dunn character in “Million Dollar Baby” (2004).
“Gran Torino” is set in present-day Michigan, in the city of Highland Park (basically Detroit), where the neighborhood is ethnically diverse and becoming more and more prone to gang activity. But decorated Korean War veteran Walt Kowalski (Eastwood) still sits on his porch drinking beer, with his dog, Daisy, American flag and his baby — a mint-condition 1972 Gran Torino. Walt is newly widowed, old-fashioned, unabashedly racist and outspokenly unhappy about all the foreigners overtaking his neighborhood.
The word “crotchety” isn’t quite strong enough to describe Kowalski, but you get the picture. He’s displeased with his decadent family, particularly his sons and spoiled grandchildren; and to make matters worse, Walt’s wife sicced (yes, that’s the correct spelling) the local priest on him before she died.
I’ve discussed character development at length because that’s the fuel that drives “Gran Torino” … and let me tell ya, it purrs like a kitten.
Walt has new next-door neighbors, a Hmong family that incurs the old man’s disdain. But it is his developing relationship with this family, particularly two smart but vulnerable teenagers — Sue (Ahney Her) and Thao (Bee Vang) — that supplies the story. In short, Walt warms up to the kids and their enemies become his enemies.
Though it’s ultimately a drama, “Gran Torino” provides laughs nearly all the way through it. Nevertheless, I don’t think they’re the “right kind” of laughs: Sure, there’s an underlying moral that racism is wrong, but in the process of presenting its message, “Gran Torino” spews numerous racial slurs before presenting its subtle point, much like “I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry” (2007) ultimately suggests that it’s wrong to ridicule homosexual people while ruthlessly ridiculing homosexual people.
“Gran Torino” is an excellent film — exquisite cinema — and I recommend seeing it the theater tomorrow, unless you’re free today.
Directed by Clint Eastwood
Clint Eastwood / Bee Vang / Ahney Her
Drama 116 min.
MPAA: R (for language throughout, and some violence)
U.S. Release Date: January 9, 2009
Copyright 2008: 330
X Excellent
O Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 9, 2009
If only most movies could be like “Gran Torino.” Truly excellent films (like this one) never have to strain; they make great filmmaking seem so easy, so effortless. And it’s precisely films like “Gran Torino” that make us critics seem so jaded and cynical when we’re faced with the much lesser movies that parade through theaters, week after week, like “Bride Wars” or “The Unborn” (which both also opened today).
For Clint Eastwood fans, “Gran Torino” fulfills almost everything you’d want in an Eastwood film. But his latest character, Walt Kowalski, isn’t invincible or unbeatable. He acts appropriately aged, revealing his elderly frailties. More importantly, he’s a compassionate soul beneath that leathery exterior, and we come to be awed by his deep goodness. Indeed, Walt is similar to Eastwood’s Frankie Dunn character in “Million Dollar Baby” (2004).
“Gran Torino” is set in present-day Michigan, in the city of Highland Park (basically Detroit), where the neighborhood is ethnically diverse and becoming more and more prone to gang activity. But decorated Korean War veteran Walt Kowalski (Eastwood) still sits on his porch drinking beer, with his dog, Daisy, American flag and his baby — a mint-condition 1972 Gran Torino. Walt is newly widowed, old-fashioned, unabashedly racist and outspokenly unhappy about all the foreigners overtaking his neighborhood.
The word “crotchety” isn’t quite strong enough to describe Kowalski, but you get the picture. He’s displeased with his decadent family, particularly his sons and spoiled grandchildren; and to make matters worse, Walt’s wife sicced (yes, that’s the correct spelling) the local priest on him before she died.
I’ve discussed character development at length because that’s the fuel that drives “Gran Torino” … and let me tell ya, it purrs like a kitten.
Walt has new next-door neighbors, a Hmong family that incurs the old man’s disdain. But it is his developing relationship with this family, particularly two smart but vulnerable teenagers — Sue (Ahney Her) and Thao (Bee Vang) — that supplies the story. In short, Walt warms up to the kids and their enemies become his enemies.
Though it’s ultimately a drama, “Gran Torino” provides laughs nearly all the way through it. Nevertheless, I don’t think they’re the “right kind” of laughs: Sure, there’s an underlying moral that racism is wrong, but in the process of presenting its message, “Gran Torino” spews numerous racial slurs before presenting its subtle point, much like “I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry” (2007) ultimately suggests that it’s wrong to ridicule homosexual people while ruthlessly ridiculing homosexual people.
“Gran Torino” is an excellent film — exquisite cinema — and I recommend seeing it the theater tomorrow, unless you’re free today.
Directed by Clint Eastwood
Clint Eastwood / Bee Vang / Ahney Her
Drama 116 min.
MPAA: R (for language throughout, and some violence)
U.S. Release Date: January 9, 2009
Copyright 2008: 330
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Where in the World Is Osama bin Laden? (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 8, 2009
In 2004, documentary filmmaker Morgan Spurlock horrified us with his dogged determination to eat only McDonald’s food for each meal — every day for a month — to see how it affected his health in a fast food exposé called “Super Size Me.”
In Spurlock’s new film, “Where in the World Is Osama bin Laden?” he reasons that if we want to know where bin Laden is, then maybe we should simply ask around. After all, somebody’s bound to know where he is, right?
Actually, that kind of makes sense; on the other hand, it’s a good way to get killed. And I guess that’s a big part of Spurlock’s charm. He does indeed go around to strangers across the Middle East — many of them unfriendly — but still, he blatantly inquires.
And though Spurlock seems just as persistent and as determined as he was in “Super Size Me,” we get the feeling he knows he’s cheating by just going through the motions (probably because he too is aware this is all just a farce).
I suspect that’s why this new film aims to be more comical than its somewhat scientific predecessor. “Super Size Me” showed us Spurlock’s preparation with several doctors’ appointments to establish that he had a clean bill of health at the outset, prior to his McDonald’s binge.
And though “Where in the World…” also has a training portion, we quickly see that it’s done in a mocking spirit. In fact, the silly, cartoonish, introductory moments of the film give us various antics, like puppets, animated graphics, etc., which pass from over the top to annoying. I couldn’t help think of the little brother who got a laugh once, so he persists in additional attempts to get more laughs, painfully overdoing it.
Also, there’s a concurrent subplot about Spurlock’s wife expecting their baby. And really, I think he should have just made a film about that experience and scrapped all this bin Laden madness. Indeed, the later portions containing Spurlock’s feelings about his family are the jewel of the film.
Anyway, I won’t reveal whether Spurlock successfully locates Osama bin Laden, but I think you already know the answer. But just think how hilarious it would be if some zany, smart aleck filmmaker did what no one else in the world has been able to do.
Note: “Where in the World…” is rated only PG-13 for “some strong language,” but I think the profanity crosses over into R-rated territory.
Directed by Morgan Spurlock
Morgan Spurlock
Documentary / Comedy 90 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for some strong language)
U.S. Release Date: April 18, 2008
Copyright 2008: 323
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 8, 2009
In 2004, documentary filmmaker Morgan Spurlock horrified us with his dogged determination to eat only McDonald’s food for each meal — every day for a month — to see how it affected his health in a fast food exposé called “Super Size Me.”
In Spurlock’s new film, “Where in the World Is Osama bin Laden?” he reasons that if we want to know where bin Laden is, then maybe we should simply ask around. After all, somebody’s bound to know where he is, right?
Actually, that kind of makes sense; on the other hand, it’s a good way to get killed. And I guess that’s a big part of Spurlock’s charm. He does indeed go around to strangers across the Middle East — many of them unfriendly — but still, he blatantly inquires.
And though Spurlock seems just as persistent and as determined as he was in “Super Size Me,” we get the feeling he knows he’s cheating by just going through the motions (probably because he too is aware this is all just a farce).
I suspect that’s why this new film aims to be more comical than its somewhat scientific predecessor. “Super Size Me” showed us Spurlock’s preparation with several doctors’ appointments to establish that he had a clean bill of health at the outset, prior to his McDonald’s binge.
And though “Where in the World…” also has a training portion, we quickly see that it’s done in a mocking spirit. In fact, the silly, cartoonish, introductory moments of the film give us various antics, like puppets, animated graphics, etc., which pass from over the top to annoying. I couldn’t help think of the little brother who got a laugh once, so he persists in additional attempts to get more laughs, painfully overdoing it.
Also, there’s a concurrent subplot about Spurlock’s wife expecting their baby. And really, I think he should have just made a film about that experience and scrapped all this bin Laden madness. Indeed, the later portions containing Spurlock’s feelings about his family are the jewel of the film.
Anyway, I won’t reveal whether Spurlock successfully locates Osama bin Laden, but I think you already know the answer. But just think how hilarious it would be if some zany, smart aleck filmmaker did what no one else in the world has been able to do.
Note: “Where in the World…” is rated only PG-13 for “some strong language,” but I think the profanity crosses over into R-rated territory.
Directed by Morgan Spurlock
Morgan Spurlock
Documentary / Comedy 90 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for some strong language)
U.S. Release Date: April 18, 2008
Copyright 2008: 323
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Changeling (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 7, 2009
I don’t reveal significant plot points in this review, but if you plan on seeing “Changeling,” having no foreknowledge about it whatsoever, then stop reading after this paragraph, because much like “From Dusk Till Dawn” (1996) or “Identity” (2003), the viewing experience is heightened if you go into it blindly.
As improbable as it seems, “Changeling” begins by telling us it’s “a true story.” I’ve come to learn that when a movie claims to be a true story, it still has taken some considerable liberties. And when a movie says it’s “based on true events,” well, that means it could be 99 percent fiction. (If this kind of thing interests you, there’s an entertaining book called “Based on a True Story: Fact and Fantasy in 100 Favorite Movies” by Jonathan Vankin and John Whalen.)
Though I haven’t done enough research on “Changeling” to verify the accuracy of its facts, the story is just crazy enough that it probably is true … unfortunately.
Set in Los Angeles and spanning the late 1920s to the mid-’30s, “Changeling” tells the story of a single mother (Angelina Jolie) whose son (Gattlin Griffith) vanishes one day while she’s at work. The L.A.P.D. claims to find her missing boy, except he’s not her son. And sadly, the police department is so corrupt and dysfunctional, it tries unscrupulously to convince the mother that a different child is her son — simply for the sake of avoiding further public scrutiny for such a disappointing mix-up.
This nightmarish premise has enough momentum to carry “Changeling” fairly well. But as the runtime passes the two-hour mark, we begin to grow weary. Alas, “Changeling’s” semi-conclusive ending is shocking enough — if not sufficiently satisfying — that we are renewed again and ultimately glad we watched the film.
Directed by Clint Eastwood
Angelina Jolie / Gattlin Griffith / John Malkovich
Drama / Mystery 141 min.
MPAA: R (for some violent and disturbing content, and language)
U.S. Release Date: October 31, 2008
Copyright 2008: 324
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 7, 2009
I don’t reveal significant plot points in this review, but if you plan on seeing “Changeling,” having no foreknowledge about it whatsoever, then stop reading after this paragraph, because much like “From Dusk Till Dawn” (1996) or “Identity” (2003), the viewing experience is heightened if you go into it blindly.
As improbable as it seems, “Changeling” begins by telling us it’s “a true story.” I’ve come to learn that when a movie claims to be a true story, it still has taken some considerable liberties. And when a movie says it’s “based on true events,” well, that means it could be 99 percent fiction. (If this kind of thing interests you, there’s an entertaining book called “Based on a True Story: Fact and Fantasy in 100 Favorite Movies” by Jonathan Vankin and John Whalen.)
Though I haven’t done enough research on “Changeling” to verify the accuracy of its facts, the story is just crazy enough that it probably is true … unfortunately.
Set in Los Angeles and spanning the late 1920s to the mid-’30s, “Changeling” tells the story of a single mother (Angelina Jolie) whose son (Gattlin Griffith) vanishes one day while she’s at work. The L.A.P.D. claims to find her missing boy, except he’s not her son. And sadly, the police department is so corrupt and dysfunctional, it tries unscrupulously to convince the mother that a different child is her son — simply for the sake of avoiding further public scrutiny for such a disappointing mix-up.
This nightmarish premise has enough momentum to carry “Changeling” fairly well. But as the runtime passes the two-hour mark, we begin to grow weary. Alas, “Changeling’s” semi-conclusive ending is shocking enough — if not sufficiently satisfying — that we are renewed again and ultimately glad we watched the film.
Directed by Clint Eastwood
Angelina Jolie / Gattlin Griffith / John Malkovich
Drama / Mystery 141 min.
MPAA: R (for some violent and disturbing content, and language)
U.S. Release Date: October 31, 2008
Copyright 2008: 324
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Quantum of Solace (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 4, 2009
It only took about 5 seconds of the opening chase scene of “Quantum of Solace” for my testosterone to start pumping, and I knew right then I was going to like this movie. If motion pictures were animals, this one would growl.
When it’s all said and done — yeah — “Quantum of Solace” is another action blockbuster, but it ranks among the few that are truly well made. Other examples would be its antecedent, “Casino Royale” (2006) and “The Bourne Identity” (2002).
Almost as long as people have been arguing the chicken or the egg dilemma, Bond fans have been debating over which actor plays the best 007. Actually, hyperbole aside, that discussion has gone on since about 1969, when the sixth Bond film, “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service,” was released — when George Lazenby showed up in a tux (temporarily) in place of Sean Connery. But others also substituted: Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton, Pierce Brosnan and that brings us to Daniel Craig.
Prior to “Casino Royale,” I personally was in the Brosnan camp. But all that changed with Daniel Craig. To truly be someone like James Bond or Jason Bourne, one would have to be a monster — not a monster outright but a Jekyll and Hyde combination. Daniel Craig somehow conveys a transparent stoicism, meaning, though he’s obviously unafraid and ruggedly tough, we can still see that he has inner conflicts. He is a tormented individual who can displace his pain to administer it upon his foes.
But the brightest victory for both “Casino Royale” and “Quantum of Solace” (which are No. 21 and No. 22 in the count of official Bond films) is that Daniel Craig’s 007 isn’t an impervious, invincible superman like we’ve seen in some of the earlier films. In the last two movies, we see him get banged up, busted up and bleed. He doesn’t clear his jumps by a mile; he’s an extraordinary everyman — but an everyman, nevertheless. I credit this winning character attribute to Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis, and Robert Wade, the screenwriters for both films, as well as Ian Fleming, who wrote the novels. Now we can believe Bond … mostly.
The director of photography for “Quantum of Solace” was Roberto Schaefer, whose competent work you’ve also seen in “The Kite Runner” (2007), “Stranger Than Fiction” (2006), “Finding Neverland” (2004) and “Monster’s Ball” (2001), among others. I make mention of him because he does a remarkable job with shooting the action in this film. I’m no cinematographer, but Schaefer’s photography deserves to be nominated at this year’s Academy Awards for Best Cinematography.
Lastly, I will more or less dispense with the plot summary, because attempting to describe what happens and why and where is pointless. Nobody cares. Spy movies always have twisty, labyrinthine story lines that the average moviegoer doesn’t truly understand, anyway. Yeah, Bond has a score to settle to avenge the death of the woman he loved, and he also wants to stop a bad man from doing a bad thing to an entire country, but we don’t really care about all that. Since it’s fictitious, bring on the explosions, exotic cars, exotic women and some fatal, spy-versus-spy duals.
Directed by Marc Forster
Daniel Craig / Olga Kurylenko / Mathieu Amalric
Action 106 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for intense sequences of violence and action, and some sexual content)
U.S. Release Date: November 14, 2008
Copyright 2008: 325
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 4, 2009
It only took about 5 seconds of the opening chase scene of “Quantum of Solace” for my testosterone to start pumping, and I knew right then I was going to like this movie. If motion pictures were animals, this one would growl.
When it’s all said and done — yeah — “Quantum of Solace” is another action blockbuster, but it ranks among the few that are truly well made. Other examples would be its antecedent, “Casino Royale” (2006) and “The Bourne Identity” (2002).
Almost as long as people have been arguing the chicken or the egg dilemma, Bond fans have been debating over which actor plays the best 007. Actually, hyperbole aside, that discussion has gone on since about 1969, when the sixth Bond film, “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service,” was released — when George Lazenby showed up in a tux (temporarily) in place of Sean Connery. But others also substituted: Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton, Pierce Brosnan and that brings us to Daniel Craig.
Prior to “Casino Royale,” I personally was in the Brosnan camp. But all that changed with Daniel Craig. To truly be someone like James Bond or Jason Bourne, one would have to be a monster — not a monster outright but a Jekyll and Hyde combination. Daniel Craig somehow conveys a transparent stoicism, meaning, though he’s obviously unafraid and ruggedly tough, we can still see that he has inner conflicts. He is a tormented individual who can displace his pain to administer it upon his foes.
But the brightest victory for both “Casino Royale” and “Quantum of Solace” (which are No. 21 and No. 22 in the count of official Bond films) is that Daniel Craig’s 007 isn’t an impervious, invincible superman like we’ve seen in some of the earlier films. In the last two movies, we see him get banged up, busted up and bleed. He doesn’t clear his jumps by a mile; he’s an extraordinary everyman — but an everyman, nevertheless. I credit this winning character attribute to Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis, and Robert Wade, the screenwriters for both films, as well as Ian Fleming, who wrote the novels. Now we can believe Bond … mostly.
The director of photography for “Quantum of Solace” was Roberto Schaefer, whose competent work you’ve also seen in “The Kite Runner” (2007), “Stranger Than Fiction” (2006), “Finding Neverland” (2004) and “Monster’s Ball” (2001), among others. I make mention of him because he does a remarkable job with shooting the action in this film. I’m no cinematographer, but Schaefer’s photography deserves to be nominated at this year’s Academy Awards for Best Cinematography.
Lastly, I will more or less dispense with the plot summary, because attempting to describe what happens and why and where is pointless. Nobody cares. Spy movies always have twisty, labyrinthine story lines that the average moviegoer doesn’t truly understand, anyway. Yeah, Bond has a score to settle to avenge the death of the woman he loved, and he also wants to stop a bad man from doing a bad thing to an entire country, but we don’t really care about all that. Since it’s fictitious, bring on the explosions, exotic cars, exotic women and some fatal, spy-versus-spy duals.
Directed by Marc Forster
Daniel Craig / Olga Kurylenko / Mathieu Amalric
Action 106 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for intense sequences of violence and action, and some sexual content)
U.S. Release Date: November 14, 2008
Copyright 2008: 325
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Get Smart (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 3, 2009
I attempted to see “Get Smart” during its release last June by visiting any theater conveniently situated off Interstate 80 as I moved from Utah to West Virginia. No luck. Then I tried to see it again at the drive-in later in the summer, but our car mysteriously began evoking “Christine” (Stephen King’s 1958 Plymouth Fury), and literally wouldn’t permit us to finish the movie. Long story.
But finally, thanks to Netflix and the hospitable environment of my own home, I got to see “Get Smart” on my third attempt, and it was worth every effort.
This silly spy spoof is a must-see for fans of Steve Carell, who plays Agent 86, Maxwell Smart, reprising the same all-heart-but-less-skilled special agent that Don Adams played in the late ‘60s TV series of the same name. And Anne Hathaway is his much abler partner, Agent 99, who used to be played by Barbara Feldon. Though I haven’t seen much of the TV show’s reruns, the movie appears to be successful in echoing its source.
Funny comedies are a rare thing — at least for me — but “Get Smart” has several laugh-out-loud moments, so I warmly recommend it. “Get Smart” was directed by Peter Segal, who also gave us “50 First Dates” (2004), “Anger Management” (2003), “Tommy Boy” (1995) and “Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult” (1994).
Directed by Peter Segal
Steve Carell / Anne Hathaway / Dwayne Johnson
Comedy 110 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for some rude humor, action violence and language)
U.S. Release Date: June 20, 2008
Copyright 2008: 326
O Excellent
X Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 3, 2009
I attempted to see “Get Smart” during its release last June by visiting any theater conveniently situated off Interstate 80 as I moved from Utah to West Virginia. No luck. Then I tried to see it again at the drive-in later in the summer, but our car mysteriously began evoking “Christine” (Stephen King’s 1958 Plymouth Fury), and literally wouldn’t permit us to finish the movie. Long story.
But finally, thanks to Netflix and the hospitable environment of my own home, I got to see “Get Smart” on my third attempt, and it was worth every effort.
This silly spy spoof is a must-see for fans of Steve Carell, who plays Agent 86, Maxwell Smart, reprising the same all-heart-but-less-skilled special agent that Don Adams played in the late ‘60s TV series of the same name. And Anne Hathaway is his much abler partner, Agent 99, who used to be played by Barbara Feldon. Though I haven’t seen much of the TV show’s reruns, the movie appears to be successful in echoing its source.
Funny comedies are a rare thing — at least for me — but “Get Smart” has several laugh-out-loud moments, so I warmly recommend it. “Get Smart” was directed by Peter Segal, who also gave us “50 First Dates” (2004), “Anger Management” (2003), “Tommy Boy” (1995) and “Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult” (1994).
Directed by Peter Segal
Steve Carell / Anne Hathaway / Dwayne Johnson
Comedy 110 min.
MPAA: PG-13 (for some rude humor, action violence and language)
U.S. Release Date: June 20, 2008
Copyright 2008: 326
Friday, January 2, 2009
Punisher: War Zone (2008)
O Masterpiece
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 2, 2009
It is often argued that cinematic depictions of violence can be justified when employed with a relevant purpose. That is not the case, however, with “Punisher: War Zone,” whose cheerful violence pervades the movie so thoroughly, it begins to mock itself like an Edgar Wright-Simon Pegg project, such as “Shaun of the Dead” (2004) or “Hot Fuzz” (2007).
No, “War Zone” has no interest in being a comic book movie; instead it’s a fascistic action flick whose aim is to gross-out teenage boys. The movie is a barrage of bullets, blood splatter and blown-off heads.
Though “War Zone” is intended to follow “The Punisher” (2004), which cast Thomas Jane in the title role, this sequel has little regard for continuity. In fact, I’d argue that the new movie (which can stand alone) is an attempt to rectify its predecessor, much like last year’s “The Incredible Hulk” did with Ang Lee’s “Hulk” (2003). And the 1989 version of the Punisher saga starring Dolph Lundgren doesn’t apply here, either.
Yes, once again, Frank Castle (Ray Stevenson) is out to avenge his family’s murder by administering merciless justice to their killers and any other criminal associates.
Considering its purpose, “War Zone” should please those whom it targets. And though the movie’s sibling villains Jigsaw (Dominic West) and Loony Bin Jim (Doug Hutchison) match the overall, over-the-top décor, their characters are outrageous enough to be intriguing.
Directed by Lexi Alexander
Ray Stevenson / Dominic West / Doug Hutchison
Action 103 min.
MPAA: R (for pervasive strong brutal violence, language and some drug use)
U.S. Release Date: December 5, 2008
Copyright 2008: 328
O Excellent
O Good
X OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid
Review by Jason Pyles / January 2, 2009
It is often argued that cinematic depictions of violence can be justified when employed with a relevant purpose. That is not the case, however, with “Punisher: War Zone,” whose cheerful violence pervades the movie so thoroughly, it begins to mock itself like an Edgar Wright-Simon Pegg project, such as “Shaun of the Dead” (2004) or “Hot Fuzz” (2007).
No, “War Zone” has no interest in being a comic book movie; instead it’s a fascistic action flick whose aim is to gross-out teenage boys. The movie is a barrage of bullets, blood splatter and blown-off heads.
Though “War Zone” is intended to follow “The Punisher” (2004), which cast Thomas Jane in the title role, this sequel has little regard for continuity. In fact, I’d argue that the new movie (which can stand alone) is an attempt to rectify its predecessor, much like last year’s “The Incredible Hulk” did with Ang Lee’s “Hulk” (2003). And the 1989 version of the Punisher saga starring Dolph Lundgren doesn’t apply here, either.
Yes, once again, Frank Castle (Ray Stevenson) is out to avenge his family’s murder by administering merciless justice to their killers and any other criminal associates.
Considering its purpose, “War Zone” should please those whom it targets. And though the movie’s sibling villains Jigsaw (Dominic West) and Loony Bin Jim (Doug Hutchison) match the overall, over-the-top décor, their characters are outrageous enough to be intriguing.
Directed by Lexi Alexander
Ray Stevenson / Dominic West / Doug Hutchison
Action 103 min.
MPAA: R (for pervasive strong brutal violence, language and some drug use)
U.S. Release Date: December 5, 2008
Copyright 2008: 328
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