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Many things occurred in the year 2000 that changed the way we look at
the world. Known as the International Year for the Culture of Peace,
the beginning of the millennium saw the first year of Vladimir Putin's
reign, the tumultuous election of George W. Bush Jr. and an understated
blockbuster by the name of X-Men made its debut. Watching it today, the
film can be underwhelming, especially in comparison to its
above-the-cut sequel, yet it still holds a special place both in my
heart and the emergence and popularity of superhero films.
Fast-forward to the year 2014 and the X-Men has become an immensely popular film franchise with a spotty history as far as quality. Taken as a whole, the canon set by Director/Producer Bryan Singer and 20th Century Fox is a prime example of what a comic-book expanded universe can be. Still there were problems including the death of not one, not two but three important characters and the incredibly shoddy treatment of a fan favorite from the Marvel Expanded Universe.
Is it safe to say that X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) is the greatest mulligan ever made? After all, it's a sequel, its part of an extended canon and universe and with its play on time-travel it's also a reboot. It's also marvelous to boot featuring soundly made special effects, seamless period detail (a large swath of the movie takes place in 1973) and a great plot paying proper lip-service to many of the most popular characters from the comic-books. Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), Professor X (Patrick Stewart/James McAvoy), Magneto (Ian McKellen/Michael Fassbender), Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence), Storm (Halle Berry), Beast (Kelsey Grammar/Nicholas Hoult), Quicksilver (Evan Peters), all have their moments to shine.
Director Bryan Singer and scribes Simon Kinberg, Matthew Vaughn and Jane Goldman wisely weave a story that is properly weighty with big stakes and big pay-offs all while being a character centered tale. There is a reverence and respect for the characters as well as a respect of an audience that has been burned by the X-Men movies of the last decade. The Avengers (2012) may have mastered the ensemble superhuman savior shtick but The X-Men are now juggling with fire batons (as well as ice batons, telepathic batons etc.). With the power of a salient, timely and timeless message of inclusion and tolerance this new installment may be the new standard in superhero franchise films. It's certainly the blockbuster to beat in 2014.
I have always has an affinity for the X-Men films, comic-books, cartoon series and memorabilia. Unlike many things you love starting at the age of ten, the characters have grown and evolved with me while keeping true to a core message that I still believe and probably will never grow out of. We still do not live in a culture of peace, yet through the stories we tell, maybe we can discover a world where special abilities can mirror our presumed faults and turn them into positives and of course if the stories become bad we can always tinker a bit.
It's a bittersweet moment when you realize you may be getting too old
for the bawdy, gross-out, college humor comedies. The beer doesn't
quite taste as sweet and the deafening party mix that used to jolt you
into a street streaking frenzy has become, well just plain deafening.
Forget going on a bender and living it up like its 1999, it's closer to
2019 now and you've got work in the morning.
Seth Rogen's Mac Radner knows that feeling well. He's got a responsible big-boy job wearing khakis and filling out joint files and has put a lot of money into a new home for his wife (Rose Byrne) and child. Settling into a life of responsibility has felt uneasy as of late for the couple and the arrival of a new Fraternity house next door rattles the Radner's definition of themselves and their priorities. Can they make nice with the neighbors? Or will things ultimately lead to a chaotic confrontation. I don't think I'm spoiling anything by saying that the Radners and the boy of Delta Psi don't see eye-to-eye. What initially starts as an "anonymous" noise complaint turns into an escalating cycle of recycled youtube pranks and crafty manipulations, most of which is highlighted in the trailer.
To their credit Rogen and Byrne have great chemistry as the young couple and for their efforts Zac Efron, Dave Franco, Jerrod Carmichael and Christopher Mintz-Plasse do on-screen wonders as the offending frat. The gags are effective in what ends up being a boilerplate raunch-comedy and the message while rudimentary was received by the audience I saw the film with. It's not much of a stretch to say Neighbors (2014) is a good movie and a solid comedy so if you're an 18 to 35-year-old fine with low hanging fruit I say give it a go.
Perhaps it's a testament to my age that all I kept thinking of were other films that have done this sort of thing first and better. Animal House (1978), Revenge of the Nerds (1984), The 'Burbs (1989), Changing Lanes (2002); all pilfered by director Nicholas Stoller and scribes Andrew Cohen and Brendan O'Brien for the sake of a pedestrian ode to college life. And don't kid yourself, for all the revelry Neighbors has in store, on the whole the ceremonies are pedestrian. Even Old School (2003) had the good sense to have Will Ferrell streak. What will Neighbors's legacy be to the throngs of pop-culture consumers? Jerrod Carmichael's pubic hair torn out by plaster?
The brinksmanship of two neighbors at war never reaches its full potential, culminating in a confrontation that is less hilarious than it is wincing. If I wanted to see an out of shape man getting his butt kicked by an inept Abercrombie & Fitch model I'd see Here Comes the Boom (2012) again. The most volatile rifts in this Judd Apatow-less feature are concocted by Rose Byrne's character who decidedly does more damage with more success than any of the bros in this movie. Unfortunately her contributions to the chaos serve only further the plot not necessarily to get the belly laughs going. In addition to playing a mean Iago, she's also the subject of one of the movie's most memorable gross-out gags which ended up only being sporadically funny and ultimately pointless.
At one point in the movie Rogen and Byrne lay in bed contemplating the future. Rogen asks "Do you think we'll make good parents?" to which Byrne replies "I think we'll be good and bad parents." It's moments like this that make Neighbors ultimately worth a watch. There's genuine heart and thought put into the characters, even those on the other side of the fence. Yet without any animosities really reaching a fever pitch or any gags not in the trailer reaching new heights, you might have to acknowledge this frat pack might fall flat for those with allegiances to better party school films.
The film starts with a chaotic brawl on a private jet travelling to
parts unknown. Richard (Campbell Scott) and Mary Parker (Embeth
Davidtz) are aboard the doomed flight along with an assassin yet in a
moment of concentration Richard musters the ability to upload a file on
his laptop before the plane vanishes. More than a decade later, Peter
Parker aka Spider-Man (Andrew Garfield) is chasing bad guys in a latex
suit while balancing his relationship with on-again-off-again
girlfriend Gwen Stacey (Emma Stone).
You remember Stacey from the first film right? She still works for Oscorp, an organization who once employed the Parkers as well as Dr. Connors who turned out to be a Lizard creature in the first film. You know the guy who killed Gwen's father (Denis Leary) and may have been Peter's only link to his parents until the arrival of Harry Osborn (Dane DeHaan) who was given control of the company after father Norman Osborn (Chris Cooper) died. Also at the beginning of the film, he's chasing a menace by the name of Aleksei Sytsevich (Paul Giamatti) who has stolen; you guessed it, Oscorp property. Goodness, can't Peter find anyone outside the Oscorp circle of influence? Even the star villain of this new film is an Oscorp employee; Max Dillon (Jamie Foxx) aka Electro.
The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (2014) offers some of the same benefits the first installment did. There are elaborate set pieces and CGI that fulfills the fevered wet dreams of the sixteen-year-olds in all of us. The story, while a little cluttered, never ceases to provide interesting fodder when things aren't blowing up at you and then there are some dead-on performances by Emma Stone and franchise newcomer Dane DeHaan. The plot line of Peter finding out what happened to his parents takes center stage in this sequel which differentiates the Marc Webb movies from the old Sam Raimi trilogy. It all feels fresh if a little too heavy handed and busy.
The thing is the various stories swirling around this bloated sequel could have been made into three worthwhile films. Yet with three villains and their origins to contend with, Peter and Gwen's "complicated" relationship, the enduring mystery of the Parkers' disappearance, the reappearance of The Gentleman in the Shadows (Michael Massee) from the first film and a Alistair Smythe (B.J. Novak) tease it's hard for anything in the film to resonate on an emotional level. If only Webb and Sony Productions learned passed lessons and didn't frontload the film with so many villains things may have turned out differently. I dare say Spider-Man 3 (2007) was a more sound film from a storytelling point of view than this Andrew Garfield helmed mess.
And what of our 30-year-old high schooler leading man? Well his performance is convincing as a recent high school graduate and vulnerable orphan yet as a budding genius he falls short. There are many moments of slapstick provided by our leading man's tinkering yet if he actually cracked a textbook in his life or failed that, done a Google search he'd know how to keep Electro on his toes. Then of course there's Jamie Foxx who before his transformation tries to recreate his so-so performance in The Soloist (2009) only with a bad comb over. Once he becomes Electro, his character development into unstoppable psychopath seems a bit thin. Oh and of course there's Paul Giamatti's Rhino who insists he's a killer yet looks absolutely adorable both with and without his mechanized suit.
There are flickers of decent ideas in this new installment of the Spider-Man saga so here's to hoping the inevitable sequel makes a mad dash for a more succinct story and convincing villains. If not here's to hoping the Marc Webb Sony movies accomplish a new nadir in superhero movies and sells the rights back to Marvel. Then we'll be able to see a real Avengers movie featuring your neighborhood friendly Spider-Man.
Remember when there were imminent nuclear attack drills in school? The
alarm would sound and students were instructed to crawl underneath
their school desks as if the flimsy plastic top and tin would protect
them from a nuclear explosion. Yes the threat of Soviet annihilation
was a very real thing back then and the dichotomy of the Cold War
informed the world-views of baby-boomers and generation x'ers for
decades to follow. Thankfully I was not part of either generation yet
having lived on both sides of the east/west divide I can tell you that
despite the severity of 1960's evening news telecasts, the standoff is
hilarious in retrospect.
The hilarity was evident as far back as 1961 when Billy Wilder's One, Two Three hit theaters. Starring James Cagney as a fast-talking Coca-Cola executive, the movie was sly, witty and light as air, masking a cynical and subversive world-view taking the ideologies of the USA and USSR to task. Cagney plays C.R. MacNamara, a dependable company man who is asked to take care of the CEO's daughter Scarlet (Pamela Tiffin) while she's in West Berlin. His wife (Arlene Francis) was looking forward to a vacation in Venice with the kids while his secretary (Liselotte Pulver) was hoping to teach him the sultry phonetics of the umlaut. Naturally no one is happy with the imposition. Things spiral out of control when the seventeen-year-old southern belle falls in love and marries an East Berlin Bolshevik (Horst Buchholz) all while the CEO (Howard St. John) comes in for a surprise visit to pickup his sweet little angel.
The screenplay written by Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond based on a Ferenc Molnar play has enough gags to go toe to toe with today's joke a minute youtube generation. Even without prior knowledge of the Cold War, the movie is one heck of a ride featuring, among other things, a high speed chase with a disintegrating Russian car, a constantly heal-clicking lackey who may or may not have been an SS member and the old staple; a man wearing women's clothing. Those who do know their 20th century history will be further rewarded with coy references to Khrushchev, Tito and Yuri Gagarin not to mention the adversarial tones of Cagney's character and the Russians he deals with. "He could use a hair cut and I'd like to give it to him myself with a hammer and sickle," says MacNamara to the débutante's new liebchen.
The characters are exactly what you would expect from a fast-paced farce; broadly drawn and exaggerated by a single feature or fault. Buchholz's Otto is an overzealous card-carrying Red, bloviating about Coca-Cola colonialism and dead herring in the moonlight. Scarlet is so overwhelmingly dense to the point of annoyance, at one point musing "did you know Otto spelled backwards is Otto?". Meanwhile the trio of Russian dignitaries who complicates MacNamara's plans remind me of an old Russian joke: why do Russians walk around in sets of three? One reads, one writes and the third keeps an eye on the other two intellectuals. If you're looking for anything more than stock characters causing havoc in post-war Berlin, you may be setting your standards unrealistically high.
I have a real affinity for Billy Wilder and his directorial efforts to which One, Two, Three is a splendid addition to my Seen It list. Like The Apartment (1960), One, Two, Three achieves wonders with its cast; like Ace in the Hole (1951) it has the propensity to be cynical yet charming and like Some Like It Hot (1959), One, Two, Three is gut-bustlingly hilarious.
I feel like Wes Anderson's career has been leading up to this film.
It's safe to say that those familiar with the literate, quirky director
and his celebrated style will find much to enjoy regarding the
goings-on in an Eastern European luxury hotel. Those who come in from
the cold will likewise find a rare wistful quality and a very common
air of post-modernism stabbed through unfamiliar settings.
Those who know me know I have not been a fan of Anderson's work in the past. Wasting the potential of large, well known casts and keeping everything fussily symmetrical and pastel, I once compared him and his style unfavorably to that of a 1970's pornographer. I always sensed there was a distance between the elaborate set-dressing and stilted dialogue he always seems to employ and the emotional core of what a good story should be.
It was only after I watched The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004) did I realize his potential not as a filmmaker but as a creator of worlds. Steve Zissou was once again disappointing in its narrative but managed to be something altogether different from the turgid dryness of Rushmore (1998) and The Royal Tenenbaums (2001). Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) and Moonrise Kingdom (2012) successfully took advantage of an all encompassing vision which made me much more aware of Anderson's true potential. It helped that his stories were more whimsical and entered squarely in the realm of crowd-pleasers instead of receptacles of arcane literary trivia. He also hinted at emotional artistic expression ever so slightly; especially in Moonrise Kingdom.
The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) is a happy marriage of Wes Anderson in all his forms; a whimsical visual artist, a pedantic Eurocentrist and finally an emotional storyteller. Ralph Fiennes stars as a philandering but thorough hotel concierge M. Gustave who takes young Zero (Tony Revolori) under his wing as the Grand Budapest's new bellboy. Gustave and Zero are forced into a series of misadventures when one of his elderly bedfellows dies bequeathing him a priceless painting.
Thematically, Anderson seems to be playing around with ones sense of nostalgia. The story beseeches its audience into an unearthly place and time inside an unknown European country prior to an unknown war. The film begins with a little girl opening a book narrated by "The Author" (Tom Wilkinson); her surroundings are snowy and stark as she stares at a yet unrecognizable statue. The Author recalls a time in his youth when he visited the Grand Budapest in the 1968 and met the elderly Zero (F. Murray Abraham) who had become a man of renown since his time as a bellboy. In these early scenes, the hotel has fallen into disrepair yet while there's evidence of muck and rust, the grandeur of the hotel shines through. He then tells the story of his predecessor who is never without his tyrian purple tuxedo and bow-tie. By the time we get to the story within the story, within the story, the hotel resembles a wedding cake and even the bland colors of Zero's six by ten room pop out at you.
Sometimes looking through rose colors glasses may skew one's perceptions of the past. The artifice of the film is always signature Anderson with a suspicious fakeness especially in times of heightened tension. Yet despite the fakeness and moments of dry wit and levity, there's more than meets the eye. There is a surprising bit of bitterness with the sweet confections cooked up by Anderson and his stellar cast which includes Edward Norton, Jeff Goldblum, Saoirse Ronan, Adrien Brody, and Willem Dafoe. Like in Cabaret (1972), there's foreboding hints of fascism lurking in the shadows; ever present yet not actively driving the plot. Could it be a statement on today's modern political landscape? Could scenes involving Zero and the authorities who jostle him be a statement on immigration? Could the stark clientèle haunting the 1968 hotel, and the hotel itself represent the failed promises of Communism? Perhaps not but there's no denying such sad realities.
The language in the film also serves and important purpose in highlighting the film's bittersweet sensibilities. Like in Anderson's previous works, the dialogue is very formal and composed juxtaposed with the farcical elements on full display. There are piercing moments of obscenities which provide a cheap laugh or two yet I feel they serve another purpose. The film reminds the audience, specifically the true filmophiles that while it may resemble Night Train to Munich (1940) and The Great Dictator (1940), The Grand Budapest Hotel is very much a product of 2014.
Leave no doubt in your mind, The Grand Budapest Hotel is Wes Anderson's best film to date and certainly a film worthy of consideration. It reaches the apex of what the director's sensibilities could be which is to say entertaining, artfully done and literate. It's much more than a dotty wee skid mark and a pretty face, like Moonrise Kingdom before it, the film transcends and becomes emotionally satisfying, signifying that Anderson is finally willing to open up and evolve as an artist.
Gabe (Woody Allen) and Judy (Mia Farrow) have invited their good
friends Jack (Sydney Pollack) and Sally (Judy Davis) for a small dinner
at their quaint Manhattan apartment. Their abode is full of books and
knickknacks all pointing to a comfortable urbanite life in the largest
city in the world. Then Jack and Sally reveal some surprising
after years of seemingly happy marriage, the two have agreed to a
separation and eventual divorce. After that bomb is dropped the two
couples reexamine their relationships with each other, trying to find
meaning in romances both current and past while discovering the good,
the bad and the ugly in marriage.
Woody Allen is mostly known for his comedies. But while Husbands and Wives has some pretty spot on observational humor, the story is largely somber and dramatic. Not dramatic in the sense of a Wednesday afternoon soap opera but a benign drama that with a few spikes of activity focuses mostly on the characters. There is no clever high concept or narrative liberties here like say, The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985); the film is more straight-laced and character driven along the lines of Interiors (1978) and Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989).
And what of the characters or rather the actors who flesh them out? Judy Davis, Mia Farrow and Juliette Lewis are the obvious standouts, representing three very different women all of which are looking for the same thing; someone to love and someone to love them back. Davis received an Oscar nomination for her role as a bitter divorcée trying to come to terms with her ex-husband's infidelity and being single again. She's continually frustrated and confused by the yearnings of the heart occasionally even lashing out on her boyfriend Gates (Liam Neeson). She's cynical and wary of attachment yet deep down she knows that her entanglements with Jack aren't over.
Mia Farrow is a stark counterpoint to Diane Keaton's brassy personalities of Allen's earlier work. Farrow's intensity lies always below the surface, providing the perked looks and mousiness of a young ingénue with the mind and body language of a veteran in the trials of love. It's a shame that out of the twelve Woody Allen films she has been in (for which Husbands and Wives was most famously her last) she had never received recognition by The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for her stellar work.
Juliette Lewis who plays one of Gabe's young students from his Literature course, has the appearance and vulnerability of a dewy-eyed devotee. Yet when the amiable Gabe discovers he might be the object of desire here and Lewis's Rain the controller, he recoils. There's a scene where the two are in a cab discussing the latest draft of his book. Unable to take criticism, Gabe calls Rain a 20-year-old twit and says "I'd hate to be your boyfriend, he must go through hell." Rain cavalierly responds "Well, I'm worth it."
Those who bemoan Allen's post-Annie Hall (1977) work won't find relief from his more meditative works of the 1980's. While most of the characters are likable they sometimes do unlikeable things, each on their own journey of discovery. I suppose we all do things we regret for love and those with a mature outlook on the subject matter will find a lot to enjoy and a lot to flinch at in Husbands and Wives. I suppose the heart wants what the heart wants.
Thank you Captain America. Thank you for reminding me that while
Hollywood may by a cynical churner of money-making goop, when its done
right it's really done right. Ignore the naysayers who claim the film
is too ostentatious or too predictable. They fail to realize that
movies like this are not meant to be inceptive or beholden to reality.
It's still the golden age of superhero movies and the genre is well on
its way to making as big a mark on the American cinema firmament as the
western, the noir and the musical.
Captain Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) is back from the 1940's and back from saving the world with the rest of The Avengers (2012). He carries with him a little notebook of things he has to catch up on including Rocky (1976), the 1966 World Cup final and Marvin Gaye's Trouble Man Soundtrack all while working as Nick Fury's (Samuel L. Jackson) glorified henchman. He's not a fan of what he has to do for his "boss" but he soldiers through, especially if it means keeping America safe.
Things however get turned upside-down when attempts are made on Fury's life prior to the launch of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new Heli-carriers. Narrowly escaping multiple assassins and a frightening ghost story known as The Winter Soldier, the only man Fury can trust to get to the bottom of things is the man who trusts him the least. Can Captain America get to The Winter Soldier before it's too late? Is there a sinister connection between tenuous ally Natasha Romanoff aka The Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and the bad guys? Who ultimately are the bad guys, and who are the good guys?
Co-starring Robert Redford, Anthony Mackie and Cobie Smulders, all actors take a backseat to the razzle-dazzle of high-flying special effects provided by Daniel Sudick and his army of Imagineers. Every wham-bam explosion, hail of rat-tat-tat gunfire and snap-crackle-pop fighting sequence rivals Joss Whedon's work in The Avengers yet thankfully never quite reaches Transformers (2007-2014) level idiocy.
Before I continue to shower Captain America with complements and jabbering onomatopoeia I might as well take the time to address those who have not seen it and those on the fence about it. You really do have to go in with the proper mindset; and that mindset is "fun". Those who praise the film for its introduction of themes like the modern surveillance and data collection complex and how it can turn sour are deluding themselves into thinking the movie is smarter than it really is. I doubt the Obama administration is going to be knocking on Stan Lee's door asking questions while George W. Bush releases a statement defending the NSA on account of this movie.
The film isn't as smart as it is incredibly pulpy. There are Mexican standoffs, emotional flashbacks, disguises, traumatic deaths, hostage situations, big reveals and double crosses; it pulls out all the stops to provide panem et circenses to the masses. The grabbed-by-the- headlines Wikileak angle is just a cherry on top of the massive all- American sundae that we're all eating and loving. ABC might have cancelled All My Children (1970-2011) but soap operas are alive and well in the world of superheroes to which Captain America is only the most recent example.
Yet unlike most of your grandmother's soaps, the script is bare-bones; mostly show and less tell. It's exactly what you need in an action movie. I just wished that all the advanced technology on full display has less of a Deus ex Machina, everything-works-exactly-as-it-should- type feel. I'm a little jealous that S.H.I.E.L.D. has a portable laser capable of piercing armored trucks and concrete with ease yet my Galaxy 5 can't call outside the U.S. and Canada. Though I suppose these movies are less about giving the guys at Google something to work on than they are selling action figures and red, white and blue Frisbees.
Yet despite my natural cynicism, it's hard not to love movie. It takes itself a little more seriously than The Avengers and the Iron Man series (2008-2013) which might disappoint some viewers but since the films protagonist is supposed to be the fuddy-duddy of the ensemble that can be forgiven. There are just too many well done special-effects and too much childlike wonder to escape Winter Soldier's bombastic charm. Go out to the theater this weekend and check it out for America!
Larry the Cable Guy reminds me of the idiot on the high school debate
team who seemed to win his competitions winging-it. You know the guy;
he's the one who can't spell Amazonian but manages to win the audience
by saying the phrase "save the rainforest because
trees and s***." So
it goes Daniel "Larry the Cable Guy" Whitney has been catapulted to
super-stardom being a singularly obnoxious character comedian. His
routine is infused with false goofball bravado and a bloated sense of
self; callously "standing up" for red blooded Americans who drive a
beat-up pickup truck and eat Hot Pockets for lunch out of a tin pale.
I get it Middle America; Hollywood and the media are overwhelmingly liberal so out of the assortment of comedians you have to latch on to your mascot. But why would you plague us with this gleefully ignorant, aggressively offensive, boar? This film (which made a hefty profit), along with his comedy albums, standup tours and voice work for Pixar has elevated this guy's credibility. You've created a monster!
If you need proof of dear Larry's now unstoppable stupidity, look no further than his 2006 film Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector. He plays a city official who isn't particularly good at his job and doesn't really take his job seriously. So why do we care about this guy? Good question. Because of his unorthodox methods Larry is partnered with a by-the-books partner (Iris Bahr) who he constantly dubs a man due to her choice in wears and lack of voluptuousness. Funny. He then goes to a variety of ethnic restaurants with his new partner making imbecilic comments about restaurant owners and workers though because they're familiar with his banter the heed no mind. Funny. He also annoys his coworker Jack (Tony Hale) who is a paraplegic. Funny. He bungles into a mystery involving poisoned food before a local cuisine competition involving people in their Sunday best barfing and farting. Funny. Oh and there's the love story which starts with Larry staring at shop worker Jane (Megyn Price) as she removes the bras off of mannequins. Again, so funny!
Actually no no not funny at all! The cardinal rule of a comedy is be funny which this film is resoundingly not. Larry's character cannot provide any cleverness, insight, intuition or even irony. The man tows the line between amiable redneck and ugly American managing to isolate all but his most die hard fans. He slings his brand of gross-out humor with a soupçon of racism and sexism but any time it gets blatantly offensive he falls back into "I'm-just-doing-me" mode as the supporting characters catch him by being straw-men or shoulder shrugging bystanders.
Comedians like Groucho Marx did the thick shtick with a clever pomposity that irked the victims of his command of the English language. Jerry Lewis wasn't as sharp or presumptuous but he brought physicality to the fool role which was copied to great success by the likes of Jim Carrey. Larry the Cable Guy brings nothing to the table. His interpretation of the ignorant fool is one of a sad, second-hand Don Quixote. He looks to exemplify an ideal that never existed nor should; an Amrican who lacks all beneficial qualities but gumption and adulates his own numb-nut-ness while chomping down Moon Pies and day old pizza crust.
The saddest part about Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector is that despite naughty language, reference to bodily functions, sex and Kid Rock, the film got a PG-13 rating guaranteeing young people have and will see this asinine movie. In my youth when I lacked good taste I thought films like Ace Ventura: Pet Detective (1994) and Happy Gilmore (1996) were the best I've ever seen. Even today I will defend their quality while acknowledging serious filmgoers will dismiss them and deride me for them. It saddens me to think out there somewhere there are youngsters willing to defend Heath Inspector. Worse still is the notion that as they get older Health Inspector will crystallize in their minds with other "cherished" childhood memories.
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
During Leo McCarey's acceptance speech for the Academy Award for Best
Director he walked up and thanked the Academy then said "
you gave it
to me for the wrong picture." The picture he won the prize for was The
Awful Truth (1937) which was also nominated for Best Picture, Best
Actress, Supporting Actor and Writing. The movie he claimed he should
have won for was Make Way for Tomorrow (1937) which got a big goose egg
that year. Since 1937, Make Way for Tomorrow has grown in stature to
become one of the most revered American movies and certainly among the
best films depicting melancholy in old age.
Victor Moore and Beulah Bondi star as Barkley and Lucy Cooper, an elderly couple who despite a lifetime of happiness and five children to prove it, are in dire straights. Their home is in foreclosure due in no small part by the depression. They summon four of their five children and try to come up with a game plan deciding that Barkley is to move in temporarily with Cora (Elisabeth Risdon) their impatient daughter in town while Lucy lives with eldest son George (Thomas Mitchell) and wife Anita (Fay Bainter) in his Manhattan estate. Of course as the temporary situation becomes less temporary, the couple long for each other while the kids look to move them out.
Make Way for Tomorrow is arguably the saddest movie ever made; certainly the most tragic of the 1930's. It isn't a classically tragic story like "Oedipus" but a subdued, somber film that gently settles into its wistful conclusion. I say this without caution. Those who feel that cinema provides much more than idle entertainment and happy feelings should waste no time in watching this absolute gem. It brings to mind the classic Tokyo Story (1953) and the recent Amour (2012) in its touching yet unsentimental portrayal of the elderly.
The film doesn't demonize the children who push their parents out of their lives for various reasons. One can easily identify with one or more of the kids due to the exemplary acting on the part of Thomas Mitchell, Elisabeth Risdon, Minna Gombell and Ray Meyer. They have their own problems both financial and social which are further complicated by the parents. Anita helps support her family by teaching bridge to socialites yet finds her young daughter running off with older men. In an effort to form trust with her granddaughter, Lucy keeps her social life a secret which understandably insights Anita to say, "What right have you to keep secrets about my daughter from me?" Yet while we as the audience can identify with the children and their own myriad of problems, we know the couple is left with little prospects for the future. The final elongated day-walk through New York City is a particularly bittersweet fifteen minutes. The couple walk hand-in-hand, being provided niceties by strangers who find their love quaint and adorable. Yet while their long-awaited day together is joyous, deep in their minds is the thought that they're still separated and likely to be so for the rest of their lives.
Living in a culture that values the young, the new and the adaptive over the old, it's easy to see how this movie may one day disappear into the ether; even if it was submitted into the Library of Congress's National Film Registry. Like it's characters, the film was out of step for its time and likely even more so with today's hustle and bustle. At least the aforementioned and immortalized Tokyo Story was released by a culture that dichotomizes old vs. new instead of shoving its aged things onto the proverbial ice flow like we do. Hopefully with our median population getting ever older we'll reach an understanding where the elderly achieve a little more dignity than decades past. If not, I suppose there are pleasant things to be said about making way for tomorrow.
You have to give it up for a director like Ridley Scott. Since the late
seventies, Scott has managed to make a handful of contemporary classics
that have managed to enhance and elevate the medium of film. Yet for
every Blade Runner (1982) there's a mediocre A Good Year (2006); a
Prometheus (2012) to every Alien (1979) if you will. So what of his
2005 effort Kingdom of Heaven? Failing to make a killing at the box
office, not even reaching its $130 million dollar budget, the question
must be asked; is it really that big of a misfire? The answer may
The director's cut of the film challenges its audience to accept a depiction of the crusades that is over three hours long and helmed by a milquetoast Orlando Bloom. Balain, a lowly blacksmith (Bloom) is given the chance to redeem his wife's suicide (among other things) by joining his newly found noble father Godfrey de Ibelin (Liam Neeson) on an odyssey to the Holy Land. The Crusaders plan on making their way to a land where everyone speaks Italian. "Then keep going until they speak something else." The journey and destination however is fraught with dangers, seductions and intrigue.
While Bloom's command of the movie slips under its lofty premise, the crux of the film remains a testament to Ridley Scott's detailed depictions of history. The same eye he used to recreate the Roman Colosseum in Gladiator (2000) or the Santa Maria in 1492: Conquest of Paradise Scott recreates a stunningly exotic Jerusalem which alone is worth the rental price. While my medieval history is a little rusty, Kingdom of Heaven's 1187 siege of the fabled city is likewise breathtaking and somewhat accurate. There was no mention of selling anyone into slavery after the films impressive climax and I doubt Sibylla Queen of Jeruselem (Eva Green) was that drop dead gorgeous but let's not split hairs here.
There are some wildly off the mark portrayals of famous Crusaders yet I doubt Scott was going for imitation. No his, thankfully spiring ambitions go much further than simply putting a history textbook on the screen. Like Karen Armstrong's book "Holy War", Scott wants to juxtapose the geopolitical and religious conflicts of the 11th century and those we're faced with today. The movie exposes many conflicting worldviews from the religious tolerance of Messina, the moral torpor of Christian occupied Jerusalem, the absolutism of religious fanatics both Christian and Muslim and the ambitions of the power-hungry.
Loyalties are forged for different reasons much like they are in today's world. Yet many times moderation, prudence and compromise are sacrificed in the face of what is politically expedient. In 2005, during the film's release the United States was dealing with sectarian violence in Iraq. Back then there were only hints of our tragic misstep in the region many of us too blinded by our zeal to see the bigger picture. Today Russia is forcing a stand-off in Ukraine upsetting the established peace of Europe. It's politics but its also religious, also personal and also ancient history in repeat. As Balain shouts before the battle "We fight over and offense we did not give, against those who were not alive to be offended."
Presently do you feel Islamic terrorism is a symptom of a larger economic problem or the subterfuge of millions of years of aggression by outsiders? Do you think the west's emphasis on the region is due to an unquenchable thrust for world domination and influence or misplaced idealistic fervor from centuries past? Your answers to these questions will ultimately inform your perspective on Kingdom of Heaven. Yet while the huddled masses might assume the film is serviceable if overlong and gain no insights from it, others who know their history and their current events will be rewarded by arguably Ridley Scott's most underrated project to date.
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