Current Releases
BABEL An award winner at Cannes, Babel arrives courtesy of director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu and writer Guillermo Arriaga, the same team that gave us 21 Grams and Amores Perros. Like their past efforts, Babel is a gloom-and-doom dissection of society, whipping between various characters and their interconnected storylines. Certainly, this is the duo’s most ambitious undertaking, yet for all its scattered strengths, it’s also the least satisfying, hampered by a structure that feels schematic rather than organic. Several of the Big Issues — border disputes, Middle Eastern tensions and gun control — are handled in ways that feel overly familiar, perhaps because we’ve seen them tackled more adroitly in other multistory flicks like Traffic and Syriana. The freshest storyline concerns a deaf teenage girl (excellent Rinko Kikuchi) in Tokyo who grows increasingly frustrated as she’s unable to find any male who’s willing to provide her with love and compassion — this plot seems the least driven by obvious ideology and therefore best illustrates the picture’s theme of the lack of communication that exists between people. There’s a lot to chew over in Babel. But because it’s overstuffed, it also means that there’s a lot not worth swallowing. **1/2
BOBBY If the late Robert Altman had been dropped on his head as a toddler, Bobby is the sort of movie he might have ended up making. Writer-director Emilio Estevez has clearly adopted Altman’s MO for this ambitious effort that’s only tangentially about Robert F. Kennedy — we get the all-star cast, the overlapping dialogue, the furtive glances at the ever-changing American landscape — but despite a few scattered scenes worth preserving, the overall picture is shallow, tedious and ultimately insignificant. Set in Los Angeles’ Ambassador Hotel in the hours leading up to Kennedy’s assassination, Bobby is inspired by the sort of multistory TV shows Estevez grew up with (Fantasy Island, The Love Boat, etc.). So while Democratic staffers are busy prepping for Kennedy’s visit, soggy melodramas involving employees and guests are being played out in the site’s corridors and rooms (Anthony Hopkins, William H. Macy and Laurence Fishburne are among the wasted thespians). Bobby is as much about Robert Kennedy as Oliver Stone’s World Trade Center was about 9/11 — it uses a national tragedy as a springboard for a more generic Hollywood product. **
BORAT: CULTURAL LEARNINGS OF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN Originally conceived as a character on HBO’s Da Ali G Show, Borat Sagdiyev is a Kazakh journalist who comes to America to make a documentary — and there’s your plot in a nutshell. Yet what makes Borat different is that creator-star Sacha Baron Cohen, who plays the insensitive and language-mangling journalist, never breaks character, interviewing scores of ordinary Americans who genuinely believe that they’re being questioned by a foreign reporter. If Borat is staged in any way, then it’s a “mockumentary” that stretches its one-joke concept to the breaking point — after about an hour, you’ll be satisfied. Yet if the filmmakers’ claim that everything is on the level is true, then this is borderline genius, an inspired piece of guerilla filmmaking that’s able to gauge the real pulse of America and unearth some unpleasant (if hardly surprising) truths. Borat is often convulsively, savagely funny, but beneath the scatology and mockery rests a knowingness about the manner in which our societal prejudices can be hidden, diverted and even encouraged. In that regard, this is one smart movie. ***
CASINO ROYALE In most respects, Casino Royale ranks among the best Bond films produced over the past 44 years, just a shade below the likes of Goldfinger, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, The Spy Who Loved Me and the criminally underrated For Your Eyes Only. Basically, it wipes away the previous 20 installments by going back to when James Bond was first promoted to the level of a double-oh agent with a license to kill. As intensely played by Daniel Craig, this James Bond isn’t a suave playboy quick with the quip and bathed in an air of immortality but rather a sometimes rough-hewn bruiser who makes mistakes, usually keeps his sense of humor in check, and, because he’s just starting out, possesses more flashes of empathy than we’re used to seeing in our cold-as-ice hero. With memorable characters and exciting action scenes, Casino Royale is so successful in its determination to jump-start the series by any means necessary that it tampers with winning formulas left and right. When a bartender asks Bond if he prefers his martini shaken or stirred, the surly agent snaps back, “Do I look like I give a damn?” Blasphemy? Perhaps. But also bloody invigorating. ***1/2
DECK THE HALLS Christmas may bring out the best in most people, but what is it about the holiday that brings out the worst in Hollywood filmmakers? Joining the likes of Christmas With the Kranks and Jingle All the Way is Deck the Halls, yet another holiday hack job that champions cynicism and mean-spiritedness before tacking on a phony redemptive ending meant to fool us into believing that we actually sat through something of value. This seems to have been conceived on the back of a snot-soaked tissue by a none-too-bright second grader: Its gags are all on the order of having obnoxious car salesman Buddy Hall (Danny DeVito) climbing buck-naked into a sleeping bag with frostbitten neighbor Steve Finch (Matthew Broderick) in an effort to warm him up (after all, nothing says “Merry Christmas” like a smattering of gay panic, right?), or the two men leering and hooting at teenage girls who turn out to be their own daughters (after all, nothing says “Merry Christmas” like allusions to incest, right?). As if it mattered, the imbecilic plot concerns Steve’s disgust at Buddy’s desire to put enough Christmas lights on his house so it can be seen from outer space. Holy Mother, the nonsense that gets the green light in today’s Hollywood! *
DÉJÀ VU The latest from producer Jerry Bruckheimer and director Tony Scott is movie porn for the electronic media set, a techno-thriller deeply in love with its own hardware. It’s also a disappointment, a high-gloss action film that grows increasingly silly as it introduces each new wrinkle in its spiraling plot. Although the decision to stage a massive disaster (the bombing of a ferry) in the heart of Katrina Country will strike many as an unfortunate lapse in judgment, it’s the early scenes that prove to be the most compelling, as ATF agent Doug Carlin (Denzel Washington) uses his wits to stockpile various clues that will lead him in the right direction. The film is so accomplished as a straightforward thriller, in fact, that it feels obtrusive when it starts focusing on satellite spyware and even time travel. By the time Carlin climbs into a time machine, you realize that a Marty McFly cameo might be the only way to salvage this dreary plunge into preposterousness. No such luck. **
FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION The latest from Christopher Guest (Waiting for Guffman, Best In Show, A Mighty Wind) is a swipe at all the hoopla surrounding Oscar season, with Catherine O’Hara, Parker Posey, Harry Shearer and Christopher Moynihan cast as actors whose latest film, an indie project called Home For Purim, is being touted as a possible Academy Award nominee. As Marilyn Hack, the cast member deemed most likely to earn an Oscar nod, O’Hara delivers a tour de force performance, channeling all the hopefulness, rage and despair that will doubtless strike a chord with aging, frequently unemployed and quickly forgotten thespians all across Los Angeles (Posey also benefits from landing one of her best screen roles to date). The knowing screenplay by Guest and Eugene Levy yields plenty of laughs until the last act, at which point the resolution of the Oscar nom race becomes obvious to predict and the subsequent grilling of the non-nominees comes across as both cruel and unlikely. Clearly, out of these four Guest titles, For Your Consideration will have to settle for fourth place. But when one looks at the stellar competition, that’s hardly meant as a dig. ***
THE FOUNTAIN To dismiss The Fountain out of hand is to miss the overriding passion that writer-director Darren Aronofsky pours into every frame of his wildly uneven but always watchable epic. The auteur has set his sights on nothing less than matters of life and death, using his ambitious yarn to examine the manner in which the act of dying is viewed — as a finality, as a rebirth, as a disease, as a shot at immortality. Ultimately, the film’s philosophy may be no more weighty than the “Circle of Life” theory espoused by The Lion King, but Aronofsky offers plenty of food for thought (and refuses to spell out anything). I wish that the film, which finds Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz playing characters in the past, present and future, were longer than its 95 minutes: A troubled production history doubtless contributed to its short length, choppy structure and thin characterizations. But it’s easy to see why some viewers will despise this while others will adore it — although in the middle, I lean toward the latter group, and further believe this will benefit from repeat viewings. One thing’s for sure, though: I was wrong when I recently wrote that Marie Antoinette would be 2006’s premiere love-it-or-leave-it title. That throne has already been usurped. **1/2
FUR: AN IMAGINARY PORTRAIT OF DIANE ARBUS Before she committed suicide at the age of 48, Diane Arbus spent her last decade creating a portfolio in which her subjects — whether freaks, outsiders or ordinary folks — were photographed in a style that only served to accentuate the unusual. Her true story would have made for compelling cinema, but the Secretary team of director Steven Shainberg and writer Erin Cressida Wilson decided than a fanciful interpretation of a brief period in her life would be the way to go. But the problem with Fur is that it doesn’t go far enough. In imagining that the artistic awakening of Arbus (Nicole Kidman) was influenced by a (fictional) neighbor — a former circus freak whose entire body is covered in hair (Robert Downey Jr., miscast even under all that shag) — Shainberg and Wilson have made a surprisingly timid movie that isn’t nearly as adventurous or risk-taking as Arbus. There are repeated references to the trippy world of Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland, but for the most part, this film is as comfortably familiar as the various screen incarnations of Beauty and the Beast. The more risqué elements are carefully ironed out, resulting in a movie that doesn’t evoke the eeriness of Arbus’ classic “Identical Twins” as much it brings to mind the harmlessness of C.M. Coolidge’s “Dogs Playing Poker” series. **
HAPPY FEET For at least half of its running time, Happy Feet is the usual crapola animated feature, this one about a penguin (voiced by Elijah Wood) whose tap-dancing prowess freaks out his fellow flightless fowl. Like many mediocre toon flicks, it features saccharine characters, soulless CGI imagery, lazy stereotypes that border on racism, and way too much Robin Williams (playing not one, not two, but three characters). But a strange and wonderful thing happens deep into the film. It dispenses with the fun and games and becomes a sober reflection on the harm that humans are causing to the environment and to our ice-capped friends in particular. The movie morphs into one of the coolest Twilight Zone episodes never made, and for a brief, glorious second, I thought it was going to end at the most opportune moment, delivering its themes with all the force of a sledgehammer on an egg shell. But no. The film recovers from its momentary brilliance and soon is back on its preordained path to a happy ending — albeit one that still keeps its relevant message intact. The end result is decent fare, but it passed on the opportunity to be so much more. **1/2
THE NATIVITY STORY After Mel Gibson’s garish snuff film, The Passion of the Christ, the time’s been right for a tasteful and respectful Biblical tale that inspires awe and amazement instead of rage and revulsion. Unfortunately, this new film errs in the direction of too much propriety. Director Catherine Hardwicke, whose Thirteen was a wild and wicked look at out-of-control LA teens, seems fearful of adding any semblance of passion to this interpretation, resulting in an dull drama that inspires yawns more than anything else. (Viewers in the mood for some celluloid religion this holiday season would do best to just stay home and rent the exceptional 1977 TV miniseries Jesus of Nazareth instead.) Keisha Castle-Hughes, whose work in the lyrical Whale Rider earned her a Best Actress Oscar nomination a few years ago, is curiously flat as Mary; the three wise men, meanwhile, are asked to generate so many nyuks during the film that they end up coming across as the Three Stooges. And as the Jew-baiting, would-be Christ killer Herod, Ciaran Hinds is suitably dour, though the question remains: Wasn’t Mel Gibson available for this role? **
TENACIOUS D IN THE PICK OF DESTINY Metalhead JB (Jack Black) heads to LA and hooks up with struggling musician KG (Kyle Gass); after a smidgen of soul-searching and a lot of bong hits, the two elect to become the band known as Tenacious D. And there we have the origin story of Tenacious D, already a cult outfit thanks to their music videos and brief TV series. The rest of the film concerns the duo’s efforts to obtain a magical guitar pick made from the tooth of Satan, but continuity isn’t this meandering movie’s strong suit. This is basically a series of comic riffs designed to entertain viewers under the influence, with a barrage of hot-and-cold jokes, a pair of extended — and shockingly unfunny — cameos by Ben Stiller and Tim Robbins, and the usual assortment of bodily function gags. Maybe it’s my age, but I laughed harder when Cheech and Chong went this route with the cult hit Up In Smoke. The key difference is that a viewer could enjoy C&C’s film alone and without the aid of a joint. But in the case of The Pick of Destiny, you’ll probably be better off watching it with a bud, if you catch my (double) meaning. **
OPENS FRIDAY, DECEMBER 8:
AMERICAN HARDCORE: Black Flag, Circle Jerks.
APOCALYPTO: Rudy Youngblood, Jonathan Brewer.
BLOOD DIAMOND: Leonardo DiCaprio, Djimon Hounsou.
DRIVING LESSONS: Julie Walters, Rupert Grint.
THE HOLIDAY: Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet.
UNACCOMPANIED MINORS: Lewis Black, Wilmer Valderrama.
This article appears in Dec 6-12, 2006.
