New Releases
FLAWLESS At a time when banks are being bailed out by Bush’s “for rich people only” government while ordinary citizens are left to flounder, perhaps it’s possible to employ the current string of heist flicks as a mildly cathartic tonic. On the heels of Mad Money, The Bank Job and 21 comes Flawless, in which a pair of hard workers team up to rip off the evil diamond company that takes their services for granted. Set in 1960 London, the picture stars Demi Moore as Laura Quinn, a female executive who’s repeatedly overlooked when it comes time to promote from within. Despite years of dedicated service (and more than her share of innovative ideas), Laura learns from Mr. Hobbs (Michael Caine), the company janitor whose lowly status allows him access to valuable info, that she’s about to be fired. Appealing to her anger, Hobbs asks Laura to assist him in what he deems a foolproof robbery; she reluctantly accepts, only to eventually discover that the scheme is far more elaborate than she imagined. For the first hour, the film plays as we’d expect – the planning of the heist, the handling of unexpected complications, and the job itself. This part of the picture is entertaining enough, further fueled by the subtext of watching this ambitious woman try to compete in an all-male world determined to shut her out. But the picture really takes off during its second half, and even some lapses in logic can’t overtake the satisfying plot twists. The modern-day framing device is worthless – it opens with Moore in terrible old-age makeup and concludes with a heavy-handed “Carpe Diem” cheer – but the period pic between these bookends is, if not worth its weight in gold (or diamonds), at least worth the price of a movie ticket. ***
FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL Those afraid that the dismal Drillbit Taylor marked the beginning of the end for Hollywood wunderkind Judd Apatow can relax: Forgetting Sarah Marshall (on which he serves as producer) nearly matches the laugh output of Knocked Up and actually surpasses that of Superbad (though none can still touch The 40-Year-Old Virgin). Jason Segel (who also scripted) plays Peter Bretter, a nondescript guy who writes the music for the TV crime series starring his celebrity girlfriend, Sarah Marshall (Kristen Bell). After five years together, Sarah dumps Peter for self-centered and none-too-bright rock star Aldous Snow (Russell Brand), a rejection that sends Peter spiraling into self-pity. He flees to Hawaii to escape from it all, only to end up at the same hotel as Sarah and Aldous; it’s only through the efforts of Rachel (Mila Kunis), the resort’s desk clerk, that Peter’s able to occasionally follow through on the title action. Apatow’s films are hailed for successfully mixing raunchy moments with heartfelt ones, but their greatest strength might actually be the depth of their benches. Even the most minor characters are a joy to be around, and that’s the case here as well, whether it’s the brain-fried surf instructor (a very funny Paul Rudd) or the fawning waiter (Jonah Hill) or the newlywed (Jack McBrayer) who’s freaked out by his wife’s bedroom prowess (his indignation over the “playground” and the “sewer system” being placed so close together is priceless). As for the leads, Segel is an affable underdog, Bell displays some choice reaction shots, Kunis is talented enough to turn her role into more than just a Male Fantasy, and Brand – the MVP among strong competition – is spot-on as the British rocker who manages to turn vanity into an endearing character trait. ***
Current Releases
LEATHERHEADS Football may be a rough-and-tumble sport, but Leatherheads is handled by director and star George Clooney with all the delicacy one extends toward an antique vase. Working from a first-time script by sports writers Duncan Brantley and Rick Reilly, Clooney offers an occasionally wistful look at the early days of professional football, when its popularity was nil and it was viewed as college football’s deformed and ignored stepbrother. The year is 1925, and realizing that the league is about to fold, veteran player Dodge Connolly (Clooney) convinces Carter “The Bullet” Rutherford (John Krasinski), the nation’s most popular college football star, to put his studies on hold and join the pro ranks. With Carter – a beloved World War I hero, to boot – drawing in thousands of fans, the sport catches on, but working the sidelines is tough-talking reporter Lexie Littleton (Renee Zellweger), assigned to determine the authenticity of Carter’s WWI exploits. As screenwriters, Brantley and Reilly are, not surprisingly, clearly more comfortable with the gridiron aspects of the story than with the ofttimes flat romance that never quiet manages to make itself at home within the film’s structure. But ever the jokester, Clooney doesn’t rely on his writers to come up with all the funny stuff. Leatherheads is full of visual sight gags, whether the humor derives from elaborate setups or merely from knowing when to repeat the same shot for maximum potency. Admittedly, the humor is as muted as most other aspects of this low-key production. But Clooney obviously sensed that such an approach suited this material, and why mess with a winning game plan? ***
MARRIED LIFE Now here’s a movie with a cast worth salivating over, but what’s the point when the end result turns out to be so negligible? I love the direction of Brosnan’s non-Bond career (The Matador, The Tailor of Panama); Patricia Clarkson constantly earns her designation as an indie goddess; Rachel McAdams quickly (and deservedly) gained her footing as one of Hollywood’s best young actresses; and Adaptation Oscar winner Chris Cooper is everyone’s idea of an exemplary character actor. Yet director-writer Ira Sachs (adapting John Bingham’s book Five Roundabouts to Heaven with co-scripter Oren Moverman) has assembled the quartet for a stifling domestic drama that promises mystery and intrigue yet only succeeds in wasting the talents of these exceptional actors. Set in 1949, this casts Cooper as Harry Allen, a pent-up businessman who seeks romance in a marriage in which his wife Pat (Clarkson, faring best of the four) wants only sex. Harry falls in love with a war widow named Kay (McAdams), and he tells his best friend Richard (Brosnan) that he plans to leave Pat and settle down with the fragile and much younger woman. What Harry doesn’t tell Richard is that, because he can’t bear the thought of Pat suffering after he leaves her (since he’s sure she’ll be devastated), he plans to murder her; what Richard doesn’t tell Harry is that, from the moment he saw her, he’s been plotting to steal Kay away from his longtime chum. Clarkson’s presence brings to mind Todd Haynes’ superb Far From Heaven (in which she had a supporting role), and one suspects that, like Haynes, Sachs was hoping to present an homage to the Douglas Sirk melodramas of the 1950s. Then again, it’s impossible not to notice that McAdams’ Kay is dolled up exactly like Kim Novak in Vertigo, so it’s possible Sachs was shooting for Hitchcock comparisons. Either way, he falls woefully short, since Married Life lacks any semblance of genuine emotion, leaves out even one iota of sweat-inducing suspense, and collapses under the weight of an ending that not only isn’t earned but contradicts its own key revelation. It’s best to ignore these scenes from a marriage; stick with Ingmar Bergman instead. **
NIM’S ISLAND If your kids have been totally weaned on ADD-addled animated flicks that mostly coast on crude humor and instantly dated pop culture references, then this clearly isn’t the film for them. If, however, said children still find as much enjoyment (if not more so) in opening a book as in piloting a video game’s remote control, then this delightful family film will satisfy them in no small measure. Like last year’s Bridge to Terabithia, it views a child’s imagination as a tangible playground, and this angle is sharply delineated by the colorful flourishes of directors Jennifer Flackett and Mark Levin. Jodie Foster, the most prominent child actress of the 1970s, here hands the torch to Abigail Breslin, with the latter playing Nim, a precocious girl who lives on a remote island with her scientist father (Gerard Butler). When she’s not frolicking with her animal friends, Nim enjoys reading adventure novels featuring the Indiana Jones-like Alex Rover, so when her dad goes missing and strangers invade the island, she naturally e-mails Alex Rover to help her. What her young mind doesn’t grasp is that her hero doesn’t actually exist; instead, the books are written by Alexandra Rover (Foster), an eccentric agoraphobe who carries on conversations with her fictional creation (also played by Butler) and who reluctantly sets out to help Nim in her hour of need. Nim’s Island is occasionally silly (as befits a movie aimed at youngsters), but the sumptuous visuals as well as the presence of Foster insure that discerning adults will also find it worthwhile. ***
SMART PEOPLE Even when he’s grinning, Dennis Quaid generally bears the sour disposition of someone badly in need of an Alka-Seltzer; that pained grimace serves him well in Smart People, a dark comedy that turns out to be only moderately intelligent. Quaid stars as Lawrence Wetherhold, a miserable English professor whose disdain for his students is matched only by his intolerance of his fellow teachers. A widower who sorely misses his wife (Mark Jude Poirier’s foggy screenplay never makes it clear if her death caused his surliness or if he was always something of an SOB), Lawrence lives with his daughter Vanessa (Juno‘s Ellen Page), a Young Republican who’s as unhappy as her dad, and has to contend with an extended (and decidedly unwelcome) visit from his deadbeat brother Chuck (Thomas Haden Church). A minor injury temporarily places Lawrence in the hospital, where his doctor, Janet Hartigan (Sarah Jessica Parker), turns out to be a former student who once had a crush on him. Lawrence and Janet tentatively try their hand at dating while Chuck attempts to get Vanessa to loosen up and enjoy life; both scenarios contain interesting components yet never quite transcend their lukewarm presentations. All four stars are fine – Quaid and Church are the more memorable of the quartet, but that’s largely because the men have the most interesting roles. **1/2
SNOW ANGELS Until The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford (in which he appeared as Charley Ford), I didn’t think it was possible for Sam Rockwell to play a role in which his actorly tics and mannerisms didn’t get in the way of creating a flesh-and-blood person. Watching him in projects as diverse as The Green Mile and Matchstick Men, he doesn’t seem to care whether his look-Ma-I’m-acting! brand of emoting meshes with the rest of the project or not. Rockwell’s back to his showboating ways in Snow Angels, the fourth feature written and directed by N.C. School of the Arts graduate David Gordon Green (All the Real Girls, George Washington). Based on the novel by Stewart O’Nan, this ensemble piece focuses on the lives of several members of a small American community, and specifically on the circumstances (mostly tragic) that bind them together. The central plotline deals with the efforts of town beauty Annie (Kate Beckinsale), wasting away as a waitress at a Chinese restaurant, to keep her seemingly unstable husband Glenn (Rockwell) at bay, even if it means cheating him out of quality time with their young daughter Tara (Grace Hudson). The usual clichés apply here: Annie’s carrying on an affair with the lunkheaded husband (Nicky Katt) of her best friend (Amy Sedaris); Glenn turns to God and to the bottle (not necessarily in that order) in an effort to quell his demons; and the spats between Annie and Glenn lead to an obvious conclusion that’s made even more painfully obvious by the casting of jitterbug Rockwell. The secondary storyline concerns high school student Arthur (Michael Angarano) and the budding romance he enjoys with a quirky classmate (Juno‘s Olivia Thirlby), a balm to soothe the pain of witnessing his parents’ messy split. These sections of the film work primarily because of the charming and natural performance by Angarano, a necessary counterpoint to Rockwell’s patented grandstanding. **
STOP-LOSS Sign of the Times, Part I: While accepting his Oscar in 2003, Michael Moore is loudly booed for criticizing Bush’s “fictitious” war in Iraq. Sign of the Times, Part II: During last week’s advance screening of the new Iraq War drama Stop-Loss, audience members clap and cheer when Ryan Phillippe’s character spits out, “Fuck the president!” Certainly, it’s further proof that this country is finally making progress when it comes to expressing the proper attitude toward our War-Criminal-In-Chief, although, as far as cinema is concerned, we’re probably still several years away from the definitive Iraq War flick. Stop-Loss at least comes closer than most of the others: Rather than getting buried in ham-fisted armchair liberalism (like Lions for Lambs and Rendition), it carefully tries to include something for everyone on both sides of the war divide. Yet while this approach is a thoughtful one, it can also be a dangerous one, as evidenced by late-inning occurrences that spit in the face of anyone who has ever taken a stand on moral grounds. Helming her first film since 1999’s Boys Don’t Cry, director Kimberly Peirce (co-scripting with Mark Richard) centers her tale on three Texas boys who all served together in Iraq and have returned to their hometown: Brandon King (Phillippe), a natural born leader and the most intelligent of the three; Steve Shriver (Channing Tatum), a jingoistic grunt prone to repeating canned rhetoric like, “We kill them in Iraq so we don’t have to kill them here in Texas!”; and Tommy Burgess (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), the hard-drinking soldier who lost his best friend in the conflict. Having served plenty of time overseas, Brandon expects to settle down stateside, so he’s understandably upset when Bush’s “stop-loss” policy – basically, a back door draft – requires him to head back to Iraq yet again. Refusing direct orders, Brandon instead goes AWOL, a decision that irrevocably affects both Steve and Tommy. Despite its serious intentions, Stop-Loss often plays like a softer version of The Deer Hunter, and, without revealing too much, its about-face message ultimately isn’t “Fuck the president” as much as it’s “Fuck yourself” – a dispiriting message no matter how it’s sliced. **1/2
STREET KINGS Director Curtis Hanson’s instant masterpiece L.A. Confidential was based on the novel by James Ellroy, and here’s Ellroy himself writing the screenplay (with Kurt Wimmer and Jamie Moss) for another saga about the boys in blue. It’s no wonder, then, that Street Kings‘ central player, a cop named Tom Ludlow (played by Keanu Reeves), manages to incorporate qualities from all three protagonists in Hanson’s 1997 Oscar winner. Kevin Spacey’s celebrity cop, Guy Pearce’s myopic do-gooder and especially Russell Crowe’s brooding tough guy can be found in Ludlow, a veteran detective who’s the MVP on an elite squad operating under ambitious Captain Wander (Forest Whitaker). When apprehending (or, more often, blowing away) criminal suspects, Ludlow doesn’t always follow the rulebook, which places him under the scrutiny of Internal Affairs Captain Biggs (House‘s Hugh Laurie). And when Ludlow’s former partner (Terry Crews), the man who may have reported him to Biggs, gets fatally gunned down, it’s up to the maverick cop to prove that he’s innocent of any involvement in the brutal slaying. Street Kings proves to be as standard-issue as much of the gear assigned to real police officers – is there ever any doubt as to how deep the departmental corruption runs? – and this familiarity often numbs the picture’s effectiveness. Yet director David Ayer (best known for penning such cop flicks as Training Day and S.W.A.T.) and a gruff Reeves manage to provide the picture with a suitably hard-nosed atmosphere, and even the stunt casting in smaller roles (Cedric the Entertainer, The Game) works. **1/2
21 Loosely adapted from Ben Mezrich’s fact-based bestseller Bringing Down the House, 21 is an entertaining and fast-paced film that occasionally manages to make the act of counting cards seem as exciting as this past winter’s Super Bowl – and as perilous as climbing Mount Everest with both eyes closed. Jim Sturgess (Across the Universe) plays Ben Campbell, a brilliant MIT student who needs some serious dough in order to be able to afford a stint at Harvard. He catches the eye of Micky Rosa (Kevin Spacey), a shrewd professor whose extracurricular activity is training a hand-picked group of students in the art of counting cards at the blackjack table. Micky welcomes Ben to a gang that already includes two guys (Aaron Yoo and Jacob Pitts) and two girls (Kate Bosworth and Liza Lapira), and together they set off on weekly excursions to Las Vegas to clean up. Yet although they believe they’re operating under the wire, their winning ways – not to mention squabbles from within – catch the eye of an old-school casino enforcer (Laurence Fishburne) who casually takes cheaters to a back room and beats them to a pulp. 21 works best during its first act, when the fascinating con game is explained to Ben (and to us), and during its second act, when Ben feels his life spiraling out of control. Scripters Peter Steinfeld and Allan Loeb only lose their grip during the third act, when an important plot point too lumpy to swallow leads to a series of increasingly unbelievable developments. Yet even during this convoluted section, director Robert Luketic and a perfectly cast Spacey insure that this stylish film maintains a winning hand. ***
UNDER THE SAME MOON The story of a boy struggling mightily to be reunited with his mother can be approached in any number of ways. This film’s title suggests perhaps a whiff of magical surrealism; the sidebar topic (illegal immigration) hints at far more somber material. The end result falls somewhere in between, and somehow it works – at least until all those pesky coincidences get in the way. Director Patricia Riggen’s movie centers on 9-year-old Carlitos (adorable Adrian Alonso), a Mexican lad who’s been living with his grandmother for the past four years while his mother Rosario (Kate del Castillo) has been working in Los Angeles. Once Granny dies, Carlitos elects to hightail it to the States with a wad of cash in his pocket. Crossing the border proves to be a tricky situation, but his real problems begin when he inconveniently (but oh-so-conveniently for the sake of the narrative) loses his poorly secured dough and must make it to L.A. relying only on his wits and the occasional kindness of strangers. Did I say occasional? Except for a druggie who attempts to sell the kid to a sicko sex lord, Carlitos encounters nothing but kindly folks – even a grouchy laborer (Eugenio Derbez) with no love for children eventually takes the lad under his wing. It’s a warmhearted story with some nice humorous touches – best of all, the inclusion of the song “Superman es ilegal,” which persuasively makes the case that the foreign-born Man of Steel is no more American than the Mexicans trying to sneak into the United States – yet all of the film’s cumulative power repeatedly gets let out via lazy plot contrivances shamelessly included by scripter Ligiah Villalobos as a simplistic way to move the story from Point A to B and beyond. **1/2
OPENS FRIDAY, APRIL 18:
88 MINUTES: Al Pacino, Alicia Witt.
FLAWLESS: Demi Moore, Michael Caine.
THE FORBIDDEN KINGDOM: Jackie Chan, Jet Li.
FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL: Jason Segel, Kristen Bell.
WHERE IN THE WORLD IS OSAMA BIN LADEN?: Morgan Spurlock.
This article appears in Apr 16-22, 2008.
