The Lincoln Lawyer, Paul, and Limitless (all 2011)

The Lincoln Lawyer

© Lionsgate Films

I'll admit, however much I should be embarrassed about this, that I was most excited to see The Lincoln Lawyer this weekend. I'm no Matthew McConaughey fan. Heck, I'm not even a McConaughey apologist. But I do remember a time when there was a chance McConaughey might make a good movie instead of, say, The Wedding Planner, and that chance was roughly 15 years ago, so it's good to see that guy back again.

Because, between this and A Time to Kill, is there anything he does better than lawyer? He's so damn charming as a unscrupulous defense attorney because, hey, even scum deserve the full measure of the law that you root for him. You root for him because McConaughey makes it clear that there's a man behind the charlatan. Of course, he doesn't keep his shirt on the entire time (the 80s are making a comeback), but it's a step in the right direction.

Sadly, Ryan Phillippe took a step in the wrong direction, away from acting and toward smirking, as did the ad department by including a near final scene in the trailer.

Still, the movie deserves full points for the way everything, just everything, comes together in the end (even the walking 50s anachronism), and for the way this is not a redemption story. Don't get me wrong -- McConaughey's Mick struggles to put right an injustice over the course of the film. But he doesn't turn into a better, decent, pro-bono for the poor lawyer or any such thing in the end. He deals with the specifics of this case and moves on. I like that. I didn't like the spiny camera of insanity, but I liked that. B

Paul  

© Universal Pictures

I wasn't sure entirely what to expect from Paul except that Pegg + Frost - Wright would never be as good as Pegg + Frost + Wright. No offense to Pegg and Frost, who are delightful, but Wright's visual wizardry not only adds panache to the proceedings but mines every aspect of comedy so that the visual isn't just a delivery mechanism. Director Greg Mottola, whose work I liked for Superbad, doesn't bring it in the same way here.

I don't know how to put this except to say that it's just not that funny. It is funny, there are laughs, but there's no hysterical "did you see/hear that" arm-clutching action. There's more like smiling, guffawing, nodding funny. Part of it is that the script is smart without being particularly clever in its ribbing (fundamentalists = broad side of barn, but the devil's in the details on that one), and the other part is the direction/cinematography/editing doesn't fully support it.

What surprised me was how much I liked Seth Rogen's voice work, especially after The Green Hornet practically threw me into fits. His anger is toned down, and, without the teddy bear exterior, a greater nuance of emotion gets through. It's very sweet, really, how this goofy, fun-loving, chain smokin' alien just wants to get home. And can't drive. B

Limitless 

© Relativity Media

There's a time and a place for that bane of my movie existence, narration, and Limitless is almost entirely it. It's hard for us to understand exactly how NZT functions just by watching Eddie (Bradley Cooper), other than knowing it's Adderall times a million, without him explaining that he's not wired, just focused. Stop for science: you already use all of your brain (just not consciously), and being able to cut down distractions wouldn't necessarily give you the ability to understand everything. Science break over.

Cooper is perfectly cast as a smugly handsome overachiever, though he starts out in sad-sack Will mode: a struggling, scraggly writer who bumps his ex-brother-in-law (Johnny Whitworth, aka A.J. from Empire Records, who's apparently been in other things I've seen over the years without my noticing) during a particularly low moment and naturally gets hooked on a drug that, at the very least, makes him feel limitless. When said ex-BIL ends up with a bullet in his head, Eddie grabs the drugs and gets out, but it's really only a matter of time before the same fate catches up to him.

Of course, how he gets there involves some camera work and murky storytelling I could have done without, so it's not perfect. It's fluff: well cast fluff but fluff nonetheless. A little more emotional heft, and we could have gotten there. Ah, well. At least I like Abbie Cornish now. B-