All work and no play (2005)

I know it has been a while since I posted a review, much less a quality review like in the days of yore. Based on the copious clamoring comments and e-mails, I can tell you are desperate to hear my unique insights into the ins and outs of all things cinematic.

You'll just have to exhale because I do not have a review for you today.

In sooth, I have not sat down and watched, never mind enjoyed, a single movie since I went to see Broken Flowers. I caught a snippet of Igby Goes Down the other night, and it was more of a taste than I have had in weeks. My four Zipped DVDs are collecting dust on top of my TV. I've had Sarah's copy of Monsoon Wedding since early August.

My problem is two-fold: lack of time and lack of resources. I am coop-ing it up this semester, in addition to tackling the most demanding course I have taken thus far in my sorry university career. While all those things suck the time and energy required for watching and snarking, perhaps a bigger problem is how much TV I watch. Despite the on-going CBC/media guild/labour union strike (which keeps me separated from my beloved George), I watch hour upon hour of TV a week. It begs the question: Has TV quality steadily improved over the years, or have I lowered my standards?

I like to pretend that it is neither, that I have simply broadened my horizons. I am quite possibly delusional.

Lack of resources resembles more of a joke being played on me by my wonderful employer. Apparently, when they say they will pay you in September, they really mean October. Thank you, friends. My invisible pay cheque makes the highlighted and annotated calendar ripped from Entertainment Weekly's Fall Preview issue and stuck to Bill Pullman (a.k.a my big girl fridge) all the more depressing. With each passing week, more and more movies slip me by.

Of course, if it were up to me, I would be sitting here transcribing my TIFF notes and coming down from a diet coke/diet Pepsi/diet Dr. Pepper, vitamin supplement, and Junior Mint induced high. And when I say, "if it were up to me," I really mean, "if I had the money."

Since that cannot be, I give you the full list of movies I want to check out between now and December. Some I chose based on cast, some based on crew, some based on concept, and others on buzz. Hopefully you'll get to see a handful reviewed in the coming weeks and months. Until then, stay tuned for more thoughts and notes about Art with a capital "A", Crap with a capital "C", and everything in between.

September 16

Everything is Illuminated
Just Like Heaven
Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang
The Libertine
Lord of War
Proof
Thumbsucker

September 23

Flightplan
A History of Violence
Tim Burton's Corpse Bride

September 30

Capote
Little Manhattan
Serenity

October 7

Good Night, and Good Luck

October 14

Elizabethtown
North Country

October 21

Derailed
Shopgirl
Stay

November 4

Jarhead

November 11

Rent

November 18

Walk the Line

November 23

Ice Harvest

Snack Time (2005)

Just a little tidbit to remind you, me, and everyone in between why I love movies, especially ones that no one has ever heard of, seen, or wants to see. Tm, Noel Murray:

To be honest, some of the images I remember most from TIFF '05 were in Cameron Crowe's much-maligned Elizabethtown, which continues to advance Crowe's faith in classical Hollywood cinema and classic rock, in no particular order. When you strive to be the heir to Billy Wilder, you're going to make movies that strike some people as hokey and artificial, but on a purely stylistic level, Crowe has a lot of what I look for in a great filmmaker. He uses the full range of cinematic grammar in ways that don't draw undue attention. There's no staggeringly long takes for the sake of staggeringly long takes. What sticks are the moments, not the style.

To Gillian on her 37th Birthday (1996)

Outline: Friends and family gather together to celebrate the birthday weekend of Gillian Lewis (Michelle Pfeiffer), who died two years ago. Her husband, David (Peter Gallagher), is still passionately in love with her, and he spends time with her on the beach everyday. His teenaged daughter, Rachel (Claire Danes), knows about her dad's sightings, and his decision not to move on has caused a rift between David and his sister-in-law, Esther (Kathy Baker), and her husband, Paul (Bruce Altman), which comes to a head when they decide to bring a woman (Wendy Crewson) to meet David.

Here's the thing that's both great and crappy about this movie: I don't believe in ghosts, so you have to know that I thought that David would have to be either actively imagining or genuinely hallucinating these encounters with Gillian. Even so, I didn't see what the real problem with them was until the movie gets there.

A screenplay that allows me to work with it instead of trying to tear it down brick by brick is a nice treat for me. Gallagher, Pfeiffer, and Danes (not that I am putting them on the same level) are all such talented performers that it's easy for me to be drawn into their family dynamic and their individual dramas.

And I really don't see the big deal about moving on after your spouse dies. Spending your time on the beach with dead people is taking it too far, but not wanting to get together with someone else is perfectly reasonable.

Still, Michael Pressman hasn't directed anything memorable in the past, and this near-gem isn't an exception. It's nice to watch if you find it on, but there's nothing in it to get you to come back. Although Seth Green does try in his three seconds of screen time. Oh, Seth, when will they ever learn? B

Speaking of letting go, moving on, (and bad segues)

Broken Flowers (2005)

Outline: After aging singleton Don Johnston's (Billy Murray) latest girlfriend (Julie Delpy) leaves him, he receives a unsigned letter telling him that the 19 year-old son he never knew he had is looking for him. At the behest of his amateur detective neighbour, Winston (Jeffrey Wright), Don goes on a tour of his exes from twenty years ago looking for answers.

Oddly enough, it's mostly a comedy.

I can't decide whether the segment with Jessica Lange or Sharon Stone is my favourite. Lange's was a lot more subtly humorous, but the unbelievable cluelessness surrounding Stone's puts it ahead of the rest. Her, her daughter (who I recognized from the only episode of Witchblade I've ever seen), their chicken, their jug of strawberry wine, all of it. It just killed me.

Not so much theatre attendants. Apparently you lose the ability to laugh out loud when you pass 40.

Despite the fact that this is the quietest I've ever seen him (or because of it?), this is also the best Murray's ever been. Mildly caustic, with more of an air of resignation about him in any situation than annoyance, Murray weaves physical comedy in brilliant with the fantastic material writer-director Jim Jarmusch gives him.

While I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, I have to wonder what the big deal is for all the critics. Maybe I'm just too young to understand. In twenty years, however . . . But until then, the work remains unfinished in my mind. A-

I kind of like this more than one movie at a time thing.

The Short Take (2005)

Liz's long take is a thousand words on a picture. My short take is far less. Rather than write detailed reviews of the movies I've seen during my vacation, I've rounded most of them up in one post. Enjoy!

Four Brothers (2005)

Plot: Four adopted brothers (Mark Wahlberg, Tyrese Gibson, Andre Benjamin, and Garrett Hedlund) return home after their mother (Fionnula Flanagan) is killed in a liquor store robbery. Upon learning that their mother was murder, the brothers decide to "knock on some doors," complete with the implication that cracking some skulls will soon follow.

John Singleton could direct a thoughtful drama concerning the difference between revenge and vengeance, in light of what the mother would have thought of her son's actions. But why do that when you can laze your way through yet another vigilante justice movie after giving non-violence three seconds of consideration?

So, Benjamin puts himself to good use, Hedlund gets confused between the movie and a jeans ad, Gibson charms the ladies, and Wahlberg takes the de facto leader position in stride with a light comedic touch and an impossible entrance.

By the time co-writers David Elliot (the moron who also penned the heinous The Watcher) and Paul Lovett get around to their inevitable conclusion, it left a slightly bitter taste in my mouth, in part because it took too long and in part because the inevitable felt unnecessary. Once you've seen one adopted sibling vigilante justice movie, you've truly seen them all. C-

The bonus Emily pointed out for the perfect capturing of Detroit's aesthetic is cancelled out by Sarah announcing that this movie was the worst she's ever seen. Because she's never seen . . .

Waking the Dead (2000)


Plot: Ten years after his girlfriend's (Jennifer Connelly) death, Fielding Pierce (Billy Crudup) begins to see her during his congressional race.

Good chemistry and heartfelt performances cannot redeem this painfully boring, ill-conceived drama. Is she alive? Is she dead? According to the conclusion (spoiler!), it doesn't matter anyway.

Apparently Keith Gordon likes to direct bland, vaguely memorable pseudo-thrillers. Do whatever you want in the future, Mr. "I gave up acting to direct". You shouldn't have quit your day job. D

The Client (1994)

Plot: As the tagline explains, a new lawyer (Susan Sarandon
) takes on a willful young client (Brad Renfro), who a mob lawyer confessed his secrets to on his deathbed. A slick DA (Tommy Lee Jones) tries to get the information out of the boy while his lawyer struggles to protect her client and keep them both from getting killed.

He knows where the bodies are hid! Smirking over that was the best part of the whole movie. When will I live up to my own edict to stay away from John Grisham adaptations?

Joel Schumacher directs Sarandon, Renfro, Jones into separately sparkling performances, nothing can make me care about Grisham's quixotic conclusions.

Still, slightly better than the last two, if only for the laughing at Anthony Lapaglia's mesh shirts. C



Ordinary People (1980)

Premise: A full year after the accidentally drowning of their eldest son, the affluent Jarrett family struggles with their grief - the father (Donald Sutherland) wants to move forward, the mother (Mary Tyler Moore) cannot reconcile her mind with her heart, and the guilt stricken younger son (Timothy Hutton) just wants a chance at something normal.

Could it be that the critically acclaimed film among the bunch also happens to be the best? Mais oui.

When I reviewed Beautiful Girls, I told my mom that I thought Hutton was poor man's John Cusack, which I maintain that he was in the role. My mom said that she thought he was pretty good in Ordinary People. It was already on my Zip List, but that comment clinched it - I must see this movie.

Robert Redford opts for the quietest, must subtle direction possible in this compelling character drama. You initially think you are going to watch the family put the puzzle pieces back together, until you realize that the pieces are shards of glass that cut that cut each member every time they try to pick one up.

It's impossible to single out one of the sterling performances for praise, as they all rely so heavily on one another, despite the fact that the characters live in completely different worlds. You simply watch them collide again and again, perfectely unaware of being stuck in their own bubble.

Sutherland was at the centre, desperately attempting to keep the walls from crumbling down around him as his wife and son grow further and further apart. His powerhouse performance allowed the other two to occur.

Hutton tugged at the heart strings - Conrad was forced to never admit who he really blamed for his brother's death, so he found himself unable to admit anything else. The most common answer in his shattering therapy sessions with the equally talented Judd Hirsch: I don't know.

But it was Moore that broke my heart. Beth never wanted to alienate her living son - it was just that every time she saw him, she also saw what she lost. It wasn't his fault, but she has no one else to blame. She was a woman obsessed with keeping their grief in the family, forgetting that the family was the one place she could not escape her overwhelming grief.

The genius Alvin Sargent and the uncredited Nancy Dowd script is a sneak attach of sorrow, and this beautiful, poignant piece is all the better for it. A+

Walk the Line (2005)

Okay, this movie isn't actually out yet. The trailer is out, and I have been waiting for it for so long that I almost lost it when I noticed it on the date of my birth!

The reality is that I love Joaquin Phoenix and his "peculiar physiognomy" (tm, David Edelstein), and I've always had a soft spot for Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash.

Will this be a Ray or a Beyond the Sea? I don't know. Phoenix learned to play the guitar and does all the singing himself, so it could go either way. I am impatient to find out. Until I can, watch the trailer.

Wedding Crashers (2005)

The double bill continues, and I do love a double bill.

Short: John (Owen Wilson) and Jeremy (Vince Vaughn) are divorce mediators who spend the summer crashing weddings in order to pick up chicks. Jeremy convinces John to crash the "Kentucky Derby" of weddings, that of one of the daughters of secertary of state Cleary (Christopher Walken), where John meets Claire (Rachel McAdams), and Jeremy meets Gloria (Isla Fisher).

Yeah, you all know what happens. Everyone knows what happens. This isn't the kind of movie that you see for the story, okay? And that's okay.

It's more than okay, in fact, to see it for the comedy. I know I did. I loved it. At certain points, I was hysterical and laughed 'til I nearly cried.

Pretty much every review I've seen praises this movie for being "refreshing." You know what? It is refreshing. It is refreshing that Steve Faber and Bob Fisher have written an adult comedy. People swear! Women are topless! Deal with it!

Or better yet, don't deal with it. Laugh instead. Laugh it up. The real secret to Faber and Fisher's formula is their ability to play to Vaughn and Wilson's vastly different strengths. Vaughn's hyper loquacious delivery and offensive language suit him, and it allows for Wilson to play the straight man to that insanity, to sit back and sweetly drawl his way through the picture. Oh, Owen Wilson. I think I might love you.

It works on a physical level as well. Neither Vaughn nor Wilson are spring chickens anymore: Vaughn's no longer a Swinger, with his thickening waste and deep eye circles. Wilson's face is starting to line as well, suggesting that if an adult comedy like this is possible, maybe more adult roles are out there as well.

Until then, the true humour comes from the fact that these two don't just crash weddings, but that they manage to make themselves the centre of attention on the dance floor, with ballon animals for the kiddies, even giving speeches.

Of course, Faber, Fisher, and director David Dobkin do hit a few false notes. A delightful Jane Seymour cannot make up for a horribly underused Walken, nor can a hilarious granny excuse a caricature posing as an "artistic" brother character.

Taken altogether, though, I'd do it all over again just for that sensational cameo. A-

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004)

Owen Wilson double bill begins! Why not, after all?

Outline: Jacques-Yves Cousteau-esque Steven Zissou (Bill Murray) sets out to find the shark that killed his partner, along with his possible son Ned (Owen Wilson), reporter Jane Winslett Richardson (Cate Blanchett), and a host of other crew members aboard the Belafonte, including his wife Eleanor (Angelica Huston) and Klaus Daimler (Willem Dafoe).

I am really reluctant to review this movie. As we know, I generally swoon over co-writer/director Wes Anderson. I still haven't gotten the chance to catch Bottle Rocket, but I am sure I will. I am almost sure that swooning will continue at that point.

My reluctance in this case stems from my lack of swooning. I have considered declaring this Anderson's worst movie of the four. What went wrong?

The beauty of Anderson's creations springs from his ability to create perfect insular worlds, rich with detail, possibility, and the faintest hint of nostalgia. Watching these worlds grow out of believably bizarre premise, the audience falls in love with a humourous plethora of enticing and entrancing characters who very rarely, if ever, hit clichéd notes. Also part of the glory of Anderson's work is the moment when the bubble bursts, when reality comes whoosing in to fill the vacuum, and the protagonist must learn how to fit into the world he has been so cleverly avoiding.

The Life Aquatic certainly takes place in its own special world. It is funny. Murray continues in the understatement vein he has been rocking in his old age, while Dafoe practically steals every scene he's in with his crazy German accent and off-kilter one-liners.

The failure, from what I can tell, is the writing team switch-up. Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, and Tenenbaumswere all co-authored by Owen Wilson. While he looks like and keeps up the persona of a stoned surfer dude with his shaggy blond hair and slow, Texan drawl, the potential conclusion to be drawn here is that he was the brains of the operation. To call Anderson imaginative is a gross understatement, but new partner Noah Baumbach seems to bring nothing to the table. Thus, while Anderson is off creating wonderful new alternate universes, there is no one left behind to bridge the gap between that world and the audience's.

Most recently, Anderson is attached to a Roald Dahl tale, The Fantastic Mr. Fox. There is no word yet on who, if anyone, will partner with him on the script. For the audience's sake, I hope he can woo Wilson back. B

Waking Life (2001)

Idea: On his way home from the train station, a young man (Wiley Wiggans) accepts a ride from a guy driving a boat car. After he gets out, he is hit by a car. When he wakes up, he discovers that he isn't really awake at all but in a dream state. Unlike the average lucid dream, the more he harder he tries to wake up, the less control he has over what happens in his dreams.

I didn't really give anything away there, I assure you. It's not really about the plot anyway.

So, the film was shot entirely on video cameras, mostly handheld, then rotoscope-animated on Mac G4 computers and later transferred to 35mm film. A bit technobabble-y, yes, but it helps to basically understand that what you are seeing is animation on top of live action. Otherwise it can be a little weird.

A technological marvel, yes, and a sight to behold aesthetically, but the rest of what Richard Linklater (writer/director, of course) is questionable at best. At first glance it seems like a deep and mysterious gem, as though the secrets of the universe are revealed to you. And they are, in a sense. People are telling the main character much more than they ever would in real life, answering questions that no one ever bothers to ask. More than that, he is somehow privy to private conversations that he wouldn't be part of if not for his (my best guess) coma.

In fact, I thought I was going to have to watch this movie again and maybe even a third time in order to start to understand it. And maybe that's still true. But I did feel up to writing about it after I had a few days to really digest it.

The reality is that while the movie contains new theories that I had yet to come across about life, death, and the meaning of existence, a lot of it seems like the pseudo-deep things we all come up with when we stay up way too late and veer away from the superficial.

And maybe that's exactly what this movie is - an attempt to get away from the superficial. By concealing every speaker's identity with animation, their speech becomes more important than their visage. It certainly helps give the film that crisp, close feeling of a 4 am talk.

Strangelove once said that universities breed liberalism (he meant that in a complimentary way, of course). That kind of liberty of the mind plays a large role in Linklater's politics that infuse the dialogue and my subsequent interpretation of it.

While intensely quotable and full of ideas to ponder, I'm not sure to what extent I am willing to assign true meaning to this picture yet. I will have to put it away for a few months, six even, come back to it, and watch again to understand what I saw. Until then, let it speak for itself: "Yes, it is empty, but with such fullness." B

Must Love Dogs (2005)

Plot: Months after her divorce, Sarah's (Diane Lane) family is trying to get her back into the game. Minutes after his divorce is finalized, Jake's (John Cusack) lawyer is trying to get him back out there. The lawyer answers the personal that the sister created, and Sarah and Jake meet. Sparks never quite get off the ground, but hearty attempts are made.

In my own defense, I thought this movie was going to suck when I went to see it. I wanted some John, though, so I didn't feel bad about dishing out $6.95.

Let's just get this over with: this movie sucked. Writer-director Gary David Goldberg couldn't write or direct his way out of a paper bag. I barely cared about a single character in this movie even though he worked with truly terrific people.

Lane generally snaps up every role worth playing offered to a woman "of a certain age", but this not one of them. The second the movie shifted focus away from Jake/Sarah to one of her not-in-the-slightest bit "funny" blind dates, her inappropriate behaviour with a grocery store employee, her inappropriate behaviour with one of her student's parents, or anything that wasn't Jake for that matter, I glared at the screen with unchecked disgust. Normally that's a look I reserve for Idiot Girl #1 in my English class.

There was one bright spot in addition to my beloved Cusack. Christopher Plummer swooped in as Sarah's father and completely owned that movie from start to finish. A faint chuckle, a devilish grin, and a hint of sadness were all he needed to transcend this muck. The solitary scene that Plummer and Cusack shared was the greatest thing that movie had to offer.

Goldberg has claimed that he asked Cusack for some notes on Jake. Rumour has it that 35 new pages of dialogue came back, allowing me to believe that anything worth hearing in this movie came directly from Cusack himself.

For those of you unclear about what makes Cusack so irresistible, check out this study. It's one of the better ones I've read. And I agree - the fact that he isn't traditionally good looking is part of his appeal. He has to work harder for it, and we get a better product. His charm lies in letting his insecurities bubble just below the surface, which is what prevents the charm from ever coming across as sleaze.

Of course, if you want some of that charm, don't look this waste. C

Beyond the Sea (2004)

Brief: Bobby Darin (Kevin Spacey) attempts get his biopic off the ground, but the actor playing Little Bobby (William Ullrich) suggests that it's more off track than he thought. Little Bobby starts to tell Bobby the real story, and the narrative is quickly picked up by Bobby, describing his childhood with his mother, Polly (Brenda Blethyn), and his career with his manager, Boom-Boom (John Goodman); his brother-in-law, Charlie (Bob Hoskins); his sister, Nina (Caroline Aaron); and, above all, his relationship with his wife, Sandra Dee (Kate Bosworth).

If you are wondering, there is no Bobby Darin auto-biopic. It's all very meta. Not quite as meta as the second season of the o.c., but it's close. Ullrich has a lot on his plate, functioning as the young actor, the young Bobby, Bobby's conscience, God, and the grim reaper. He manages to pull most of it off, but it can be confusing.

When I saw the trailer for this movie, I was pretty pumped. But the phenomenal success of Ray left me wondering if there was room for two singer tributes in one year, and the reviews and box office receipts assured me that there wasn't. Still, I wasn't convinced that that was failure on the part of the movie.

Now that I've seen it, I'm still not sure that it was the movie that failed entirely. Going through rounds and rounds of writing with numerous authors who don't want to be credited doesn't do a picture any favours, but I've only got Spacey (who also directed/shares co-author credits) and Lewis Colick to blame.

About 50% of this movie works. Spacey makes an excellent Darin when he plays the legend the way that we all love Spacey to act - as a sardonic, condescending ass with thinly veiled contempt for pretty much anyone that doesn't share or support his goals. He also excels in Bobby's song-and-dance routine, with stage presence and one helluva voice.

It's when the movie shifts to Bobby's relationship with Sandra that it grinds to a halt. I've liked Spacey and Bosworth in the past, and I'm sure I'll like them again in the future, although maybe not together. While they certainly seem friendly toward one another, there isn't anything resembling chemistry between them, sexual or otherwise. There just isn't sufficient reason to care about Dee and Darin, and the focus on them is distracting from the rest of the otherwise enjoyable fare.

Oh, but seeing Spacey up there singing away is beyond enjoyable. I wish I hadn't have missed it when he took the show on the road. Still, you might be better off with the soundtrack than the actual movie. B-

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)

I don't really need to give you a plot summery, do I? Oh, alright, for the handful of you who have a DSL line under your rock:

Reclusive candy maker Willy Wonka (Johnny Depp) inserts five golden tickets into his chocolate bars, which entitle the barer to a tour of his factory, accompanied by one adult. The winners are: Augustus Gloop (Philip Wiegratz), a German chocolate addict; Violet Beauregarde (Annasophia Robb), a gum chewing and karate champ; Veruca Salt (Julia Winter), a rich snob who gets everything she wants; Mike Teavee (Jordan Fry), a video game head; and Charlie (Freddie Highmore), who's just lucky to be there.

Happy now? That was really hard and took a long time. Meanies.

I like the symmetry of the kids getting themselves into trouble in the order in which they find the tickets, which I just realized. Sometimes I'm a little slow, okay?

I was reading something the other day about how remakes are unnecessary unless the original movie wasn't very good and needs retelling. Movies are remade, however, because the original was commercially successful, and the remake hopes for similar profits with little to no creativity going into the process.

Say what you will, but I think the masterwork of Tim Burton (director) and John August (writer) falls into the former category. I found the 1971 Mel Stuart version horrifying. Gene Wilder's Wonka was sociopathic - I kept waiting for him to snap and try to kill the kids with his bare hands.

Depp's Wonka, on the other hand, is an effeminate man-child, with deep seated insecurities and hilarious neuroses. I read that Depp was going for a cross between a Howard Hughes-style recluse and a 70s glam rocker. Success! From his bizarre and arrested speech patterns to his deliberate ignorance of the relationship between children and their guardians (he can barely get the word 'parent' out without looking like he's about to vomit), Depp is every bit as reclusive and glamorous as he set out to be. As I have suggested in the past, that has as much to do with the actor's immense and versatile talent as it does with the completely trusting relationship between Depp and the director that allowed him to be something other than a teen idol.

What I wouldn't give to have been privy to the collaborations between August and Burton. Who cares about all those critics who say that Burton can't tell a story? Burton tells the best stories! Part gothic allegory (the decision to give Wonka some back story was a stroke of genius), part comic book, part macabre portrayal of the grotesque realities of everyday (especially suburban) life, Burton is one of my filmmaking heroes. He contrasts dank, stark, nearly black and white memories with the technicolour wonderland Wonka creates for himself in response to his domineering dentist father (Christopher Lee). I can't imagine anyone more suited to tell the story.

Highmore politely did not try to rip my heart out of my chest this time around, and he makes a perfect pair with the spindly, amusing, and doting David Kelly as Grandpa Joe. I didn't really understand the karate thing for Violet since it didn't fit in with her punishment, but it did allow she and Mrs. Beauregarde (Missi Pyle) to sport matching crushed velvet sweatsuits, which I despise. That still didn't explain Pyle's vamp brows. Oh, well, I guess at that point the prosthetics people were just having a laugh.

As much as the prosthetics, sets, performances, and Deep Roy (the only Oompa Loompa) were eye-catching, Danny Elfman (composer) owned this movie from start to finish. His variations on Roald Dahl's own songs, from Bollywood to Backstreet, were works of magnificent proportions, as were his original Wonka's Welcome Song and his mood-altering score. It kind of freaks me out to know that each and every singing voice was merely his own, but I can deal with it. Mostly because I like bopping around singing, "Willy Wonka/Willy Wonka/The amazing chocolatier" over and over again.

You must see it. You must. A+

Although Veruca doesn't sing her "I want it now" song. Pity.

Also, the real cash cow would be whatever Wonka is using to completely arrest the aging process. I'm just sayin'.

I (Heart) Huckabees (2004)

Summary: Albert Markovski (Jason Schwartzman) hires existential detectives Bernard (Dustin Hoffman) and Vivian (Lily Tomlin) Jaffe to solve his coincidence involving Mr. Nimieri (Ger Duany). The Jaffes realize that Albert's problem has much more to do with Hukabees' (think Walmart) golden boy Brad Stand (Jude Law) and Brad's girlfriend, Hukabees spokesperson, Dawn Campbell (Naomi Watts). The Jaffes also introduce Albert to another client, Tommy Corn (Mark Wahlberg), a fire fighter trying to sort out his feelings about "that September thing". Tommy introduces Albert to nihilism via former Jaffe client Caterine Vauban (Isabelle Huppert).

Yes, it is that complex and involved. That's the point. Or part of it, anyway.

Although this movie fits together seamlessly and likely is David O. Russell's (co-writer/director) best work to date, I live to hear certain line readings in a movie like this. I want Dawn to ask Brad, "You can't deal with my infinite nature, can you?"

I want Brad to ask the Jaffes, "How am I not myself?", so they can repeat the question over and over again as though its meaning will reveal itself that way.

I want Vivian and Albert to have this exchange:
V: Have you ever trascended space and time?
A: No. Yes. Uh, time not space. [beat] I have no idea what you are talking about.

I want Tommy to announce that he's going to go off and become even more empty and alone and meaningless on his own.

Perhaps most of all, I want Albert to read his poem which contains the line, "You rock, rock."

I realize that it seems like I just gutted the movie, but the reality is that I haven't even given anything away. Besides you really need to see all the action surrounding these lines to get their full effect. Russell and co-author Jeff Baena's film is an assault on the senses but in the very best way. You have to laugh because it's too absurd not to.

I've been trying to figure out where to start with all the different wonderful players in this piece, and there really is no good place. In direct accordance with the screenplay, everyone and everything is linked.

I really had no idea that Wahlberg has such a keen sense of comedic timing. I think this is the best thing he has ever done.

I love the Jaffes, from Hoffman's bowl cut to Tomlin's wardrobe to the way they seem psychically linked and destined to twirl through life together.

I love Albert's work with the Open Spaces Coalition, and his struggle for control in the face of Brad and Huckabees. This movie offers another example of the kind of role I want to see my "mortal enemy" in. He makes an excellent souless, corporate zombie, who gets a perverse thrill from taking the symbolic power away from a man that has no real power anyway.

Oh, man. I'm trying figure out how to sum up what I just saw or even what I just wrote, but there really is no way to do it. Once you suspend your disbelief and get into this world, you're done for. On the other hand, it's a mistake not to. A+

Boyz n the Hood (1991)

Premise: After getting into a fight at school, Tré is sent to live with his father, Furious (Laurence Fishburne). Tré makes friends with neighbours Doughboy and Ricky. Fast forward seven years later when Doughboy (Ice Cube) is released from juvie, Ricky (Morris Chestnut) has a child and a chance for a football scholarship, and Tré's (Cuba Gooding. Jr.) still trying to sort out the man is father wants him to be.

It's hard to review this movie because of the difficulty I have in piecing it all together. I was stunned speechless last night, then I had a headache. I was also momentarily distracted by the quality of movies that certain people used to make and how skinny everyone used to be.

There are words for writer-director John Singleton's debut, but I'm not sure what they are. Like the novelist of the last post, pretty much everything here was lifted from Singleton's life in South Central. He was writing about things we were happily pretending weren't happening long before the names "Florence and Normandy" had any non-European existence in our collective minds.

Aside from the fact that I spend most of my time recognizing names and faces, I wasn't watching a movie. Singleton played it so close to the bone that I might as well have been watching cameras move through real lives. That's where my headache came in - it can be painful to watch something you know is true.

One thing I did note was Fishburne. His understated and charismatic performance was reminiscent of Denzel on his best day. Fishburne was intense and magnetic, and I am now wondering why I rarely get to see this side of him.

As much as this next statement is the result of paying too much attention in my English class, the unique draw of this movie is that it can be read on so many different levels. It is too easy to say that Singleton is commenting on the current state of race relations in America. There's so much more going on in these lives that I am doing you a disservice by trying to boil it down. It will take many more viewings before I have the whole picture. A

Bonus points for the Stand By Me homage.

Mysterious Skin (2004)

Premise: In the summer of 1981, two boys are molested by their little league coach (Bill Sage). Ten years later, Neil (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) turns to hustling, while Brian (Brady Corbet) believes he was abducted by aliens. As Brian begins to remember Neil's presence in the abductions, he seeks Neil out for answers.

You know that feeling you get when you've had way too much to eat, and you know that your stomach's not happy about it because the food is sitting there like a stone?

That's how this movie feels, for hours and even days after you see it. It haunts the back of your mind, appearing in little quiet moments of your day-to-day to chill you to the bone.

And yet, in the midst of all this weightiness, Gregg Araki (writer-director) deposits the most unexpected joy: Joseph Gordon-Levitt (henceforth JGL). I've only seen him in a handful of comedic roles prior to my Wednesday trip to the Bytowne, so this one naturally took its toll on me.

On the other hand, I finally understand what critics mean when they call a performance a "revelation." This, my friends, is a revelation. JGL gives one of the most unrelenting, powerful, poignant, and harrowing performances I've ever seen. It weighs all the more heavily on me that he can do that at two years my senior, looking for all the world like disenchantment, false-bravado, and that "I'm too sexy" swagger will somehow erase his feelings of loneliness and utter banality.

As Neil's mom, it's easy to chalk Elizabeth Shue's performance up to simply filling out a necessary single mother requirement, but, at the last possible second, Shue lets on that perhaps she knows much, much more about her son and his life than she wants to believe is real.

Corbet works to make his character's delusions as ingrained as possible, and it's no wonder that meeting a fellow abductee Avalyn (Mary Lynn Rajskub) finally awakens Brian to the startling truth. Rajskub and Araki give the audience just enough to hint to Sarah at a forced hysterectomy and to me that Avalyn's repeated "abductions" have more do to with her barely glimpsed "over-protective" father than anything else.

Allow me to almost completely ignore Wendy (Michelle Tranchtenberg) and Eric (Jeff Licon), Neil's hometown friends. Tranchtenberg did little besides annoy me with Dawn's simpering ways through three years of Buffy (although she did allow Xander to deliver one of the show's Best Monologues Ever) because I felt she was basically playing the same unblinking, "precocious" kid that Dakota Fanning annoys me with now (since when does some sort of strange disease that causes you to be unable to close your eyes signal precociousness, anyway? That crazy Osmet ruined things for me.) Dawn/Trachtenberg should have outgrown their wide-eyed ,whining ways by the time she was the oscillating age she was on Buffy, so I didn't really go in for it.

Wow, that was a long and completely off-topic rant. In any case, Trachtenberg doesn't do any of that here, so that's good, but she doesn't really do anything special either. And Licon looks like he's trying really hard to channel Wilson Cruz as Rickie Vasquez than anything else, but it never comes off as more than an impression.

Of course, none of these flaws seem to bother me all that much because I view each and every character as a sounding board for Neil and JGL's heart-wrenching and flawlessly executed performance.

I'm going to tell you something now because I care about you. Whenever I see a movie where a character, especially the protagonist, is a prostitute, I prepare myself for what I feel is the inevitable "bad john" scene. In this film it's particularly cruel and graphic, so I really felt I should be honest with you about that.

Because I couldn't sleep that night.

I suppose the real praise should go to Scott Heim for writing such a brutal novel on which to base this work. I understand that everything in it is based on people he knew and his experiences growing up in Hutchinson, Kansas.

Akari leaves you with lament, a feeling you can't seem to shake long after the particulars have faded from your memory. I'm in the same boat as Neil by the end, wondering how, and if it will ever, disappear. A

Fantastic Four (2005)

Short: While in space, Reed Richards (Ioan Gruffudd), Susan Storm (Jessica Alba), Johnny Storm (Chris Evans), Ben Grimm (Michael Chiklis), and Victor Von Doom (Julian McMahon) are exposed to some cosmic radiation, which alters their DNA. As Reed pushes for the four to learn to control and reverse their powers, Victor conceals his and concentrates on what they can bring him.

To sum (Em): Deliciously lame!
Me: Delightfully awful!

You can go ahead and see it if you want to. It's your money. I'm just not sure I would recommend this movie to anyone who wasn't me. Or Emily. But only if we see it together in order to snark the whole way through.

If I had to guess the mindset of co-writers Michael France and Mark Frost, it was something like this: "Isn't this movie good? Oh, well."

And given Tim Story's non-direction style, I would fathom a guess that he was on the same wavelength.

McMahon, who I love as narcissistic Dr. Christian Troy on nip/tuck, basically played his character as follows: Dr. Christian Troy mysteriously stops getting all the tang he wants, so he goes insane. No, seriously.

Here's how Alba, Gruffudd, and Evans did: . What's that you say? There's nothing there? It's blank? Hmmm. Maybe that's my response to the ciphers parroting dialogue instead of playing characters. I couldn't care less about Alba and Evans, but why do you keep doing this to me, Ioan?! You can be pretty good, and Horatio's possibly one of my favourite characters ever, but what are these movies you make?

Wondering about Chiklis? Well, being as how he's given the only character in the movie, he also gives the only performance. I assure that shouldering the emotional heft for any entire film, even if you are made of rock, isn't easy. It also means that everyone and everyone is going to shit on you, both figuratively and literally. It's seems a lot for one man to take, but Chiklis brings a little grace, panache, and fleshy pugilistic manhood to the role anyway.

Once again, another movie that raises more questions than it answers and not in that good makes-ya-think kind of a way. More like, "Who asks a woman he's never dated to marry him? Why is Ioan so tan? Why is he wearing so much eyeliner? Why can't The Thing control his powers? Why is his wife so mean?" and, above all, "Didn't you people see Spiderman? He's going to kill you all!"

I realize that kind of gave something away there, but you're all smart enough to pick it up on your own should you ever bother with this trifling affair.

This is the nightmare that all comic book geeks and critics feared at the rebirth of the comic book movie. We were previously treated to the highly stylized, operatic works of Sam Raimi and Robert Rodriguez, but now we have this. No matter - it's ephemeral. By the dawn of a certain famed chocolate factory next week, it will be all forgotten. Until then - D.

p.s. (2004)

The Topher Grace RE-view double bill!

This movie is so, so much better than I originally gave it credit for.

More specifically, Grace and his character are so much more than I gave them credit for.

Linney is one of the most talented actresses out there today, and it's very difficult to watch any one not get swallowed up by her on-screen brilliance. I sometimes fall into the trap of thinking that she needs someone like Sean Penn, a weighty leading man to say the least, to balance her out.

But that's not true. Annette Benning she is not. Linney knows exactly how to play every character, and her Louise is wonderfully reduced to girlhood at the very mention of her lost high school love. It's captivating and wholly realistic.

Still, if you pay attention to Grace, and I did this time around, he'll steal your heart. I think it's possible that I didn't see it before because of the real way Grace plays F. Scott. Everything F. Scott says or does is believable to the point where you start to wonder if it's dialogue or improv.

For better or worse, the lines he is dealt vary from natural to preposterous. He shows up at Louise's apartment the morning after Louise confesses who she thinks he is to talk about what she said. Peter (Gabriel Bryne) is there, and, when he asks Louise who this crazy man is, F. Scott replies, "Oh, didn't she tell you? I'm the dead guy!"
Louise (distractedly): He's an MFA applicant.
F. Scott (incredulously): An MFA applicant? Are you fucking insane?

I can't even do that exchange justice. I've watched it three times since I got the DVD in the mail, and I'm still laughing at it. Completely normal and natural way to react after what's happened between them.

On the more preposterous side, later in the same conversation Louise claims that she can't deal because "the whole thing is just to fucking mystical for [her]."
F. Scott: "You don't think this is mystical for me, too?"

Look at that line objectively. Think about it. It's hilarious. It's okay to laugh. But here's the thing - it's really hard to laugh when Grace says it. Somehow, he manages to sell it. He manages to make it look like it's appropriate and natural to swear during interviews and throw everything over his shoulder like he doesn't care if he ever picks it up again.

And he just is. He's so nervous and naive, but his has that kind of relationship naivete that makes him so much more mature than Louise can be in the situation. He seems to genuinely astonished that Louise could be interested in him that it's not hard to understand why he's so drawn to her.

I was watching the first seduction with the talk of portrait painting, and it reminded me of a passage from one of my favourite books, A Recipe for Bees. The heroine, Augusta, is remembering how her affair with Joe began, and she remarks that she opened herself up to him, but that men always remember themselves has initiating the affair. I don't think I understood what Gail Anderson-Dargatz meant until I watched this scene again. F. Scott thinks that he's seducing Louise, but he wouldn't be able to if she already given him permission. You'll see what I mean.

This movie was so much better than I remembered or gave it credit for. No longer B+ but A.

In Good Company (2004)

There's nothing like a good RE-view to get me through my days. Of course, you could easily title today's post "April's Adventures in Pay Per View."

Normally I don't spend money on PPV, especially since I have a steady supply of DVDs from Zip.ca. Of course, two things have encouraged a recent "spending" spree with my remote:

1) I get $50 dollars of free PPV movies/events (that's about ten movies worth) with the set up of my new Star Choice system.

2) I've started getting DVDs that I don't exactly remember when I put them on my Zip list or why/I no longer want to watch them. Mind you, I edit my list everyone once and awhile to avoid this problem, but at 157 titles - and that's just today's count - some still fall through the cracks.

Sadly, this is how I end up wasting time on things like National Treasure or Birth (scroll down).

So you can imagine my pleasure when something light and delightful falls across my path. Hurrah!

Very quickly for the new/extremely slow: There are no holds barred in a RE-view. None. Whatsoever.

I just re-read my initial review, which you should to do too, and I noticed that I missed a couple of things.

1) Topher Grace (Carter) plays his character in this movie, and, while I thought before that it was better than p.s., I think rewatching the latter movie will soon reveal that it should be the other way around. See, there's this thing Grace does, and I think he does it better than anyone. His character is this overly confident goofball who manages to also be lovable because all that confidence is a front for a very deep well of insecurity which all the bluster in the world never quite manages to cover. Whoa, that's a long sentence. Just listen/watch to him deliver a one-liner, and you'll hear/see exactly what I mean.

Okay, I appear to have only missed one thing. I found Scarlett Johansson's character just as annoying this time around, although it was really obvious that Alex intended to break up with Carter at the exact lunch that Dan (Dennis Quaid) and his fists show up at. Not that I think it was right for her to carry on behind her dad's back. Also, I think she's right that Carter isn't really in love with her.

Still . . . Carter rocks! He's too good for you, anyway.

Oh, I remember the second thing now. I never mentioned the soundtrack before, which I really enjoy and recommend. It's filled with artists I have fallen in love with on other soundtracks: Iron & Wine and The Shins via Garden State, Damien Rice via Closer, and Peter Gabriel's Salisbury Hill via Big Fish.

Weitz lost me toward the end with having Quaid switch to endless sermonizing. I get it - you are against giant multinational conglomerates. Good for you. Now stop talking.

Not that his last scenes with Grace aren't sweet. Aw.

Original assessment: B+. Good call, me.

Bewitched (2005)

Short: A washed up actor, Jack Wyatt (Will Ferrell) gets a second chance with a television remake of the sixties sitcom, Bewitched. Thinking it will make him look better, Jack pushes for the show to be centered around Darren and casts unknown Isabel Bigelow (Nicole Kidman) as witch-married -to-mortal Samantha. Also unknown to Jack is the fact that Isabel is a real witch.

April is stuck once again in a bit of a crappy movie rut. Life's just tough like that sometimes. Especially when you consider the fact that I do nothing five days a week, you would think I could just get out of it. But it's never that simple, is it?

Also, in my defense, 2005 is no 2004. By the end of June last year, I had reviewed six films that I had seen in theatres, four of which I thought were pretty good. Now I only think two were good, but that's hardly the point. This year, five movies in the same time period, two of which were good. They'll still be good by this time next year, though.

I have a million things to say about this movie, but none are all that flattering. I'll try to keep most of them to myself.

The impeccably coifed and clad Kidman proved her self a sharp comedienne in Moulin Rouge, but Nora Ephron (director and co-writer) wastes those talents. Kidman isn't even playing a character in this movie - she's playing a mix-match of an actual 60s TV housewife and Meg Ryan in earlier, more enjoyable Nora Ephron comedies. What gives? Kidman throws herself fearlessly into her other screen roles, but I don't know what she was thinking here.

Ferrell, and I don't want to give away too much about myself here, can pull laughs out of thin air, but even he can't save this disaster.

The problem you may wonder? Well, it's a pretty cute premise. It it holds water for the first act. The further you get into the movie, though, the worse it gets. Why, oh why, oh why, has Ephron and her sister Delia written a heroine who is so ridiculous? Why in the world does Isabel want to be with this man? Why is she a throw back to pre-Second Wave 1950s housewives? I found myself looking around at all the younger girls than I there and praying that they never look to Kidman as a role model because of this film.

And then they had the fantastic Shirley MacLaine as Iris/Endora resort to magic to hold onto the womanizing Michael Caine. Don't you see, ladies? Men are evil pigs, so the best you can do is hope to manipulate them through deception!

Don't get me wrong, I still laughed. Emily and I laughed a fair deal more than everyone else there. I was in hysterics when Jack was interviewed by James Lipton as a nod to Ferrell's hilarious James Lipton impersonation from SNL.

Even so, the film fell flat and nothing could be done to revive it. So it goes. C-

There was one redeeming factor, though. I got the see the Rent trailer before the movie. That's right, my friends, the trailer. Get excited. Get very, very excited.

It's the DVD cover!

A Gentleman's Game (2001)

I'm sure you had that figured out by now anyway.

Outline: One summer, Timmy Price (Mason Gamble) decides to take up golf, and his dad (Dylan Baker) decides that he would learn a lot more about the game and Fox Chase (their golf/country club) by caddying. Timmy demonstrates an excellent swing, so a respected club member (Philip Baker Hall) recommends Timmy take lessons from Foster Pearse (Gary Sinise), an one-time amateur champion turned horticulturalist.

If you think that there's something very strange and circular going on with all the F's and P's in the names of people and places, you're not wrong.

This, my friends, is a quiet movie. A quiet movie can only be viewed in a certain state of mind, and it is often an acquired taste. A quiet movie has a few points, makes them, and moves on without bothering itself about what kind of impact it will make. I have half a mind to compare this movie to the game of golf itself, but I really have no idea, having never played myself. A putt-putt movie, on the other hand, I'd be all over that.

I'd like to say good things about this movie or to say bad, but it's all relative in this case. The plot's your garden variety adults-learn-from-the-lessons-of-children with a little this-is-too-heavy-for-kids coming of age business mixed in for good measure, but it's nothing you've never seen before. Co-writers J. Mills Goodloe (who also directed) and Tom Coyne (who wrote the novel) seem to disregard the obviousness of their storyline to concentrate on the individual scenes instead. Naturally I liked that idea.

They also assembled a handy team. Sinise is the ultimate in the "actors who just act the hell out of everything they are in" category. Heck, he's the reason it exists. I've never seen him in anything where I felt he was out of his element.

Gamble's probably got a nice future ahead of him in movie's. I've only seen him in Gattaca and Rushmore, and you know how I feel about those movies. What can I say? Gamble seems to already be taking a page from Sinise's book, and that's not a bad way to go.

The movie probably could have done better if it hadn't been held back by an R rating, but I can see why they gave it one. It also adds to the bittersweet quality of the picture - Timmy must learn who he can look up to and for what reasons, and that's never fun as a kid.

Of course, if you really want to learn about a boy growing into adolescence when he already thinks he's got it figured out, you're better off reading Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. C+

Later Bale

Batman Begins (2005)

Premise: After his parents' murders, Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) travels to the ends of the earth to understand the criminal mind. In Northern China, Wayne is released from prison by Henri Ducard (Liam Neeson) and Ra's Al Ghul (Ken Watanabe), who train him and teach him to channel his energies. Later, Wayne returns to Gotham to fight injustice and restore the city.

Or, to quote whomever at IMDB, "The story of how Bruce Wayne became what he was destined to be, Batman."

Quite possibly, for the first time ever, I am more giddy about a movie after I've seen it than I was in anticipating it. I know that sounds bizarre, but you'll see what I mean.

After about a year of anticipation, it's finally here. The movie that is supposed to reinvigorate the franchise after a slow and painful death. The movie that is to provide a shot of imagination that had only existed with the delightful Tim Burton at the helm.

Oh, what to say, what to say. I joyously pronounce this fifth installment the best of them all. The best!

With Christopher Nolan, master of tension, co-writing and directing, I was both eager and anxious. Eager because I know how expertly Nolan can pace a movie, how telling his shots can be, how provocative every frame of his work is. Anxious because I was wary of him possibly selling out all those things and more with a bigger budget at his disposal. Also, how would a pitch perfect thriller director handle an action movie/comic book adaptation?

My anxiety was completely quieted in the first act. Nolan is a force to be reckoned with, Hollywood. His Batman was as sleek and stylish as a matinee idol but with the polish and grace of a true box office star. Nolan's interpretation of the story held true to the Bob Kane original with the kind of embellishments that demonstrated his respect for the subject. Nolan and David S. Goyer's (co-writer) Batman didn't just pay lip service to his chilling past, he embodied it. They had my chin trembling (take that, Claire!) on at least three separate occasions in the first twenty minutes.

Also, the story throws its familiarity out the window by presenting as many as three timelines simultaneously. Even though a lot of the in-between of Wayne's life (i.e. between the murders and Batman) is new for this version, I really felt like it explained a lot. Wayne is too literal (occasionally with hilarious results)! Of course he's a ninja! And of course that other's guy's not.

And to my especial delight Wayne's enemies were not necessarily the same as Batman's. I truly appreciated watching him fight battles on all sides.

The thanks goes, in large part, to the brilliantly cast Bale, using two accents of instead of his usual completely new one. I recently added Bale to my list of actors who just act the hell out of everything they're in, and he has once again proven no exception. Bale powerfully played the way Wayne's patrician upbringing and totally disillusionment in adulthood would result in his self-tortured soul. Wayne is a man searching for the meaning he lost at so young an age and is completely unable to accept it until he can find it in himself, until he can find his own forgiveness. Only Bale's quiet and rage fuelled performance could lead me to all these conclusions.


Neeson and Bale

Of course, there are no slackers in the supporting cast, and you're often distracted by spotting other Nolan alums. Neeson's one goal is to steal every scene he's in, turning in a deviously paternal performance. Michael Caine as the new Alfred is never short of a one-liner, a teary-eyed remembrance, or a harsh glare exactly when Wayne needs them. Gary Oldman proves once again that he is not only the man of a thousand faces but also a thousand characters as the not-quiet-yet Commissioner Gordon. Cillian Murphy rocks his mad scientist villain, his American accent, and he rocked his glasses hardest of all. Morgan Freeman has fun as Lucius Fox, as Wayne Enterprises' answer to Q. Tom Wilkinson works it as an improbably cast Italian Mafioso. Rutger Hauer proves wonderfully underhanded, if none too bright, as Earle, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.

My only regret is the tacked-on romantic subplot with the unfortunate Katie Holmes. Although I despise that show that launched her, she has done some work that I have enjoyed. Here, however, she exists solely to annoy me. A more credible actress could have made this tedious plot contrivance work to her advantage, but all Holmes did was fail to act appropriately frightened.

Clocking in at 141 mins, I can honestly tell you that it didn't feel anywhere near that long. I knew that it had to be, but I still felt like I could have kept watching.

As another plus, I have always believed that Gotham more aesthetically resembled Chicago than the Big Apple it is more frequently likened to. I found it immensely gratifying that some of the film was shot on location in Chicago and none of it in New York.

Nolan and Bale have captivated me separately more than once. Together, they should prove an unbeatable combination.

I know that you are sitting here waiting for my seemingly inevitable A+. But you are mistaken, gentle reader. And that's where my giddiness comes in. That's why I'm bouncing in my chair, rubbing my hands together with glee. That's why I was concerned that a day later, I still shouldn't be writing this review because I haven't quite absorbed the whole thing. All the pieces, you see, were there, but it still hasn't come together. It's forced me to anticipate a sequel, if you can imagine, that will be better than the first. So, for now, A.