Current Releases
ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS About the best one can say about this occasionally rancid but mostly just dull film is that it’s not as excruciating as Garfield: The Movie, another ill-conceived project that placed CGI animals in the real world. Here, Jason Lee is the hapless human who serves as the sacrificial-career lamb: He plays Dave, a failed songwriter who also has trouble getting close to anyone, including a predictably va-va-voomish girlfriend (Cameron Richardson). But along come our all-talking, all-singing chipmunk siblings – Alvin, Simon and Theodore – to not only help him produce a smash single but also teach him the importance of friendship and family. The requisite villainy rears its head in the form of Dave’s old college chum Ian (David Cross), now a record company mogul who decides to work the ‘munks into the ground via world tours and the like. The three rodents’ lines are spoken by Justin Long, Matthew Gray Gubler and Jesse McCartney, but their voices are so digitally altered that they might as well be lip-synched by Hillary, Barack and Mitt. Then again, that speaks to the whole impersonal tone of the project, which has so little regard for the brand name’s nostalgic factor that it updates the concept by briefly putting the trio in rappers’ outfits in one scene and allowing Simon to eat Theodore’s turd in another. Desperately conceived on every level, this forlorn family film amounts to little more than celluloid roadkill. *
ATONEMENT This year’s automatic Oscar entry mostly lives up to its lofty expectations, even if it doesn’t possess the sweeping emotion that provided other British period pieces like Sense and Sensibility and The Remains of the Day with their enduring resonance. In this adaptation of Ian McEwan’s novel, Keira Knightley plays Cecilia, who finds herself attracted to the family servant’s upwardly mobile son Robbie (James McAvoy). But Cecilia’s younger sister Briony (Saoirse Ronan) has also developed a crush on Robbie, and she grows jealous of the bond between the lovers. Eventually, Briony uses a family tragedy as a way to get back at Robbie, not comprehending the long-term implications of her actions. Knightley’s role doesn’t allow her to flourish as she did in Pride and Prejudice (her previous collaboration with Atonement director Joe Wright), which is fine, since this is Briony’s story and McAvoy’s film. As played by Ronan, Briony comes off as a bad seed writ large, with an IQ that, coupled with her naivety, makes her especially dangerous. It’s a memorable performance, yet it’s McAvoy who excels the most: We ache for Robbie throughout this tale, and the actor expertly conveys the feelings and frustrations of a man who dared to dream outside his station in life, only to watch as his desires go up in flames. It’s a shame that the denouement doesn’t completely provide us with the emotional catharsis we require. Providing a clever, bittersweet twist, it affects the head more than the heart, and reveals a certain measure of clinical execution on the part of Wright. It caps the film with a slow simmer, when nothing less than a full blaze will suffice. ***
CHARLIE WILSON’S WAR It hasn’t helped that all recent films about wartime politics have been promoted with all the appeal of a plate of vegetables being plopped in front of an 8-year-old (i.e. “It’s Good For You” cinema), so trust canny old lion Mike Nichols to recall how to do it right. Charlie Wilson’s War is sterling entertainment punched across with enough glitz to sell it but not too much to bury it. Working from a sharp script by Aaron Sorkin (from George Crile’s nonfiction book), Nichols has crafted a winning if occasionally facile work whose level of intelligence is measured by how much each viewer wants to put into it. Minimum-effort audiences, therefore, will be happy to roll with the engaging performance by Tom Hanks, but those digging a little deeper will recognize its merit in sniffing out that snatch of history that might serve as the missing link between the fall of Communism and the rise of Middle Eastern terrorism. Kicking off in the 1980s, it follows blustery Democratic Congressman Charlie Wilson (Hanks) as he becomes interested in Afghanistan’s ineffectual attempts to oust the invading Soviet army. Charlie’s spurred to get involved at the insistence of his politically savvy friend (Julia Roberts, little more than serviceable), but it isn’t until he teams up with a prickly CIA operative (Philip Seymour Hoffman, marvelous) that the ball gets rolling and the Afghans are able to defend themselves. But at what cost to the future? The film doesn’t answer its own question, preferring instead to let viewers mull over the response. No Supreme Court tampering is necessary this time around: Charlie Wilson’s War is an outright winner. ***
THE GOLDEN COMPASS There’s been a lot of talk surrounding this movie as it compares to Philip Pullman’s original novel – what’s been taken out, what’s been watered down – but let’s remind ourselves of the bottom line: A movie is a separate entity from a book and as such deserves to be judged on its own terms. And on that level, The Golden Compass is an acceptable piece of fantasy fluff, a cluttered mishmash that nevertheless can lay claim to its own scattered charms. An ambitious tale set in an alternate world, this is basically yet another tale about an unassuming youth who emerges as the only person able to vanquish the evil force that’s poised to conquer all (Luke Skywalker, Harry Potter, Frodo, etc.). Top-billed Nicole Kidman plays the villainous Marisa Coulter, but the lead is actually Dakota Blue Richards as Lyra, the spunky lass who lands in the middle of a large-scale skirmish that finds the fascistic members of the religious ruling body (with the aid of the aforementioned Mrs. Coulter) fighting all manner of outsiders in an effort to not only hold onto power but insure that they eliminate the notion of “free will” entirely. For all the narrative shortcuts taken by director-adapter Chris Weitz, the movie still works fairly well as a high-flying fantasy tale for the younger set. As for adult audience members, they can enjoy the fine work by Kidman, who’s all slinky, silky menace as the purring Marisa Coulter. Whether displaying a false maternal front to the motherless Lyra or slapping around a moody monkey, she’s a movie villain worth remembering – in fact, if she were any more evil, she would have to change her name from Marisa to Ann. **1/2
THE GREAT DEBATERS The Great Debaters is being positioned as an Oscar contender, and it already has a Golden Globe nomination for Best Picture (Drama) to aid it in its journey. Yet Denzel Washington’s previous film as director, 2002’s admirable Antwone Fisher, failed to grab the Academy’s attention, and I suspect the same fate will befall this inspiring if overly familiar story that owes its allegiance not so much to history (it alters many facts) as to Dead Poets Society, Hoosiers and countless other “Carpe Diem” flicks. Washington stars as Melvin B. Tolson, the coach of the debate team at an all-black college in 1930s Texas. With four members under his tutelage – played by talented thespians Jurnee Smollett, Denzel Whitaker (no relation to co-star Forest Whitaker, who plays his stern father), Nate Parker and Jermaine Williams – Tolson is determined that his squad will emerge as one of the best, if not the best, in the nation; to accomplish that goal, however, he and his charges will have to contend not only with the racism of the time but also with tensions within their own ranks. PC to a fault – I love how in the debates, Tolson’s team conveniently always gets to argue the right side of any given topic (poverty, equal rights, etc.) – The Great Debaters is nevertheless sincere in its belief in the power of education and in the importance of language. Co-produced by Oprah Winfrey, it’s naked in its shameless desire to make audiences wince at every setback and cheer at every victory. The strength of the movie is that it gets away with it almost every time. ***
I AM LEGEND Will Smith may be the only one receiving star treatment for this apocalyptic sci-fi yarn, but he’s hardly the one who runs away with the film: Abbey delivers a terrific performance that probably deserves an Oscar. Granted, there’s the small technicality that Abbey’s a dog – a German shepherd, to be exact – but still … Abbey is a wonderfully expressive animal, and once the canine’s screen time decreases in the picture’s second half, the rapport between man and his best friend – a reassuring motif in a movie about a world that otherwise has gone to hell – dissipates to make room for the usual testy relations between frightened humans as well as their attempts to ward off the evil entities that reside in the darkness. I Am Legend is based on Richard Matheson’s novel of the same name, and while it’s not the first version of the time-honored tale (other takes starred Vincent Price and Charlton Heston), it’s certainly the best. As Robert Neville, the scientist who appears to be the sole survivor in New York after a virus has wiped out most of humankind, Smith brings the right mix of vigor and vulnerability to the part, and director Francis Lawrence maintains tension as long as Neville (and moviegoers) can’t size up the shadowy menace. But once the bloodthirsty creatures show themselves, they’re disappointingly conventional (at least by CGI zombie standards), and the film has trouble continuing its momentum through a lackluster final half-hour. Still, Abbey makes this worth seeing. Not to mix animal kingdom catchphrases, but this dog is the cat’s meow. **1/2
JUNO Ellen Page (Hard Candy) is pure perfection as the title character, a spunky and verbose teen who finds herself pregnant after a dalliance with sweet classmate Paulie Bleeker (Superbad‘s Michael Cera). After careful research, she decides on the adoptive parents: Vanessa (Jennifer Garner), a tightly wound businesswoman who wants a child in the worst way, and Mark (Jason Bateman), a TV jingle composer who tends to live in the past. But Juno’s idea of how everything should proceed doesn’t exactly pan out, and her sarcastic front falters in the face of fear and uncertainty, revealing the child underneath. Perhaps because it’s written by a woman – and a former stripper at that – Juno is already receiving the sort of knee-jerk backlash that tellingly was never foisted upon Judd Apatow’s similarly themed Knocked Up. Yet Diablo Cody’s script is more balanced than Apatow’s: The laughs are plentiful in both, but Cody places more emphasis on the emotional fallout, with Juno and Bleeker awkwardly trying to express their feelings for each other and Vanessa’s anxiety almost palpable as she worries that Juno might change her mind about handing over the baby (Garner is excellent in her best film role to date). Cody’s dialogue may not always be believable (how many 16-year-old girls reference Dario Argento, let alone Soupy Sales and Seabiscuit?), but its intelligence and quirky humor qualify as music to the ears of moviegoers tired of witless banter. And speaking of music, the soundtrack is a keeper as well, with eccentric tunes that complement the action. Kicking up a fuss (much like Juno’s unborn child), this is one of the year’s best releases. ***1/2
THE KITE RUNNER There have been exemplary movies imported out of the Middle East and the surrounding region for well over a decade now, which is perhaps why this U.S.-born-and-bred adaptation of Khaled Hosseini’s bestseller by European-raised, Hollywood-sanctioned director Marc Forster (Finding Neverland) never exudes the raw, authentic power that such a story demands. Set in Afghanistan, The Kite Runner initially centers on the friendship between well-to-do but wimpy Amir (Zekeria Ebrahimi) and the family servant’s son, loyal and courageous Hassan (Ahmad Khan Mahmidzada). Hassan is forever protecting Amir, but Amir fails to do likewise when a local bully rapes young Hassan. This incidence causes a rift in their relationship, a development that turns even more rancorous before Amir and his father (excellent Homayoun Ershadi) bolt for the United States to escape the Soviet invasion. Told in flashbacks and flash-forwards, the movie explains how an adult Amir (Khalid Abdalla) comes to terms with the ghosts from his past, specifically by traveling back to his homeland to settle his affairs with Hassan – a trek that ends up pitting him against the Taliban. Alas, the harshness of the material frequently finds itself neutered by a schematic storyline brought down by an absurd climactic coincidence, all-too-obvious CGI effects in the kite-flying scenes (are we watching a movie or a video game?), and a monotonous performance by Abdalla, who saps all the energy out of crucial scenes. Well-meaning but rarely hard-hitting, The Kite Runner never quite manages to take off. **
NATIONAL TREASURE: BOOK OF SECRETS Given the emphasis on history in the National Treasure franchise, this follow-up to the 2004 original reminded me of a line from the Herman’s Hermits tune about that jolly historical figure Henry the Eighth: “Second verse, same as the first.” In other words, NT2 is essentially the same movie as its blockbuster predecessor, meaning it’s a draggy combination of The Da Vinci Code and old-style serials. Only Nicolas Cage’s Benjamin Franklin Gates is no Indiana Jones, and (like the first flick) this isn’t Raiders of the Lost Ark. Moving ahead at breakneck speed and with no time for rhyme or reason, it’s a disjointed yarn in which Gates, in an effort to prove that his great-great-grandfather wasn’t one of the conspirators behind Abe Lincoln’s assassination, must locate a legendary lost city of gold by uncovering clues hidden on historical artifacts in Paris, London and at the White House. Practically the entire principal cast returns from the original film – Jon Voight as Gates’ dad, Diane Kruger as his girlfriend, Justin Bartha as his sidekick, and Harvey Keitel as the sympathetic FBI agent hovering around the margins (a role that exists for no discernible reason) – and they’re joined by a slumming Ed Harris as a shady treasure seeker and a slumming Helen Mirren as Gates’ feisty mother. It should be noted that this marks Mirren’s first screen appearance since winning an Oscar for The Queen. Granted, that’s not nearly as shocking as Shirley MacLaine turning up in Cannonball Run II immediately after her Terms of Endearment Oscar victory, but it’s nothing to brag about, either. **
P.S. I LOVE YOU It’s possible for this to have been a winner had its running time been capped at 100 minutes. That way, it could have focused on the most interesting aspect: the palpable sense of loss a wife experiences after her husband dies of a brain tumor, and efforts to insure that she doesn’t forfeit her life to misery. This is prime tearjerker material, and Hilary Swank and (to a lesser degree) Gerard Butler demonstrate that they’re capable of pulling this off. Instead, this runs 126 minutes, and that extra half-hour bloats the material into an ugly mishmash in which the attempts at comedy are excruciating and the drama gets diluted by needless set-pieces (Swank not only sings along to Judy Garland’s “The Man That Got Away” in her living room but also merits two karaoke scenes). The central thrust, dopey but sweet, is that Butler’s Gerry knows that Swank’s Holly will have a hard time coping with his passing, so he arranges for her to receive a series of letters after his death to help her cope. Yet it’s hard to focus on this storyline when, for instance, Lisa Kudrow (as Holly’s cock-hungry friend) regularly shows up to lust after stray men, or when Holly and her best buds (Kudrow and Gina Gershon) get stranded in a fishing boat in the movie’s worst scene. And don’t get me started on Harry Connick Jr.’s maddening performance as Daniel, a potential love interest who’s either A) mentally challenged; B) autistic; C) suffering from Tourette’s syndrome; D) auditioning for a “This is your brain on drugs” TV spot; or E) a serial killer. So does the possibly psychotic Forrest Gump get the girl? Only suckers who shell out for this pap will ever know. *1/2
SWEENEY TODD: THE DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET Sweeney Todd is an adaptation of Stephen Sondheim’s 1979 Broadway smash, but it hides its stage roots so thoroughly that it often feels like a piece created exclusively for the screen. There’s no trace of the often limiting theatricality that has marred other stage-to-screen transfers, though that’s hardly a surprise given that Tim Burton remains one of our most visually adept filmmakers. In refashioning Sweeney Todd for the movies, he and scripter John Logan have created a big, bold musical that functions as an upscale slasher film: It’s bloody but also bloody good, with the gore tempered by the melancholy love stories that dominate the proceedings. Johnny Depp delivers a haunted performance as a barber who returns to London after 15 years in prison to exact his revenge on the judge (Alan Rickman) who ruined his life; he’s aided in his efforts by lonely widow Nellie Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter). As partners-in-crime, they’re matched beautifully: He slits the throats of all who sit in his barber’s chair, while she grinds up the corpses to use in her popular meat pies. Burton’s decision to stylize the film to within an inch of its life (his most theatrical flourish is to retain a Grand Guignol sense of the melodramatic) was a sound one, resulting in a visual feast that dazzles even through the setting’s necessary grime. And while neither Depp nor Carter are classically trained singers, both are just fine belting out Sondheim’s tunes. More importantly, they provide this rousing musical with the emotional heft necessary to prevent it from merely becoming an exercise in Gothic chic. ***1/2
WALK HARD: THE DEWEY COX STORY The poster for Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story states it’s “From The Guy Who Brought You Knocked Up And Superbad,” but really, it feels more like it’s “From The Guy Who Brought You Anchorman And Talladega Nights.” Yes, Judd Apatow is one of the co-writers (sharing scripting duties with director Jake Kasdan), but that savory mix of satire and sentiment that worked well in his two summer hits is largely missing here; instead, we get the broad laughs and easy targets more at home in films headlining Will Ferrell. That’s not a bad thing in itself – Talladega Nights was pretty funny – but the problem with Walk Hard is that genuine laughs are few and far between. A send-up of music biopics like Walk the Line and Ray, it spends so much time dutifully tracking the clichés inherent in these types of films – and then offering mostly predictable comic riffs on these clichés – that a certain by-the-numbers stagnation begins to settle in. Still, that’s not to say that some moments don’t connect: A sequence involving The Beatles demands to be seen if only for the opportunity to catch Jack Black cast as Paul McCartney(!), and I love the string of scenes in which Dewey (John C. Reilly) gets introduced to increasingly harsher drugs. And for a soundtrack that’s meant to send up actual country, rock and R&B hits, the songs are a surprisingly durable bunch that will doubtless play just fine away from the movie theater while blaring from an iPod or car CD player. If you’re going to return that Christmas sweater for something else, it’s not a bad way to go. **
This article appears in Jan 2-8, 2008.
