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| THE BIG BOUNCE |
| 01.31.04 (5:55 pm) [edit] |
THE BIG BOUNCE
Cast: Owen Wilson, Gary Sinese, Charlie Sheen, Morgan Freeman, Willie Nelson, Sara Foster, and Bebe Neuwirth
Directed by: George Armitage
Written by: Sebastian Gutierrez
Distributor: Warner Bros. (USA 2004)
Rated: PG-13 for sexual content and nudity, violence and language
As Reviewed by: MARTIN SCRIBBS
[b]THE BIG BOUNCE[/b] is the laziest movie I've ever seen. It's not bad, exactly, it just lies there, soaking up the Hawaiian sun, chock-a-block with self-satisfaction. No-one in the film does a lick of honest-to-God work, and while the movie starts with the jolt of drifter Jake (Owen Wilson) braining his boss with a bat, things pretty much coast from there until the last 20 minutes or so. People come, people go, plans are laid, and ditched, sun and fun are had. There's a lot to be said for the panoramic ocean views, scantily-clad cast, and their wee misadventures into the world of petty crime. But ultimately, [b]THE BIG BOUNCE[/b] plays like a promotional video for Hawaii into which the Tourism Board inserted actors to keep things interesting.
Bob Jr. (Charlie Sheen), the weaselly site manager who had employed Jake, tries to run Jake off the island. Bungalow operator and district judge Walter (Morgan Freeman) unexpectedly intervenes, offering Jake a do-little job ogling the tourists. Jake hooks up with Nancy (Sara Foster), the kept woman of local construction goon Ray (Gary Sinese), Bob Jr's boss. Ray eventually returns, bringing home his long-suffering wife Alison.... I think, at this point, it would be customary to say that the plot thickens, or the pot boils. But it doesn't. It goos and pops and gurgles a little, but the double and triple crosses are either totally predictable or "who cares?" out-of-the-blue.
After 2003's abysmal [i]Matchstick Men [/i]and [i]Confidence[/i], until further notice, the heist genre is dead. The safe will always be empty. Your best friend will always turn on you. The best laid plans, etc, etc. People criticize M. Night Shyamalan for his now-expected twist endings; heist movies, like films of the colon, are nothing but twist. Why would anyone try to figure anything out in the first hour-and-a-half, when all the rules will change at the last minute? Like basketball, everything's decided near the buzzer, and you're a chump if you watched the long back-and-forth-and-over-a gain before that.
"Sometimes things are exactly as they appear," Walter tells Jake, cryptically. Well, it APPEARS like the makers of [b]THE BIG BOUNCE[/b] figured that with a novel from Elmore Leonard as the source, they'd get a classic movie like [i]Get Shorty[/i] (1995), [i]Jackie Brown [/i](1997), or [i]Out of Sight [/i](1998). It APPEARS that when director George Armitage ([i]Grosse Pointe Blank[/i]) added a seasoned cast, a foxy lead actress, and the natural splendors of the islands, he decided not to exert any energy, you know, DIRECTING or anything. Unless directed by Wes Anderson ([i]Bottle Rocket[/i], [i]Rushmore[/i], [i]The Royal Tennenbaums[/i]) or backing up Ben Stiller ([i]Zoolander[/i], [i]Meet the Parents[/i], and please God [i]Starsky & Hutch[/i]), it APPEARS Owen Wilson isn't a very good movie actor.
Sometimes things are exactly as they appear. And more's the pity.
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| TOUCHING THE VOID |
| 01.29.04 (6:01 pm) [edit] |
TOUCHING THE VOID
Cast: Nicholas Aaron, Brendan Mackey, Richard Hawking, Joe Simpson, Simon Yates
Directed by: Kevin MacDonald
Written by: Joe Simpson (book)
Distributor: IFC Films (USA 2004)
Rated: Not Rated
As Reviewed by: JILL COZZI
This film was screened as part of the Winter 2004 New York Film Critics Series.
There may be no more difficult type of film to market than the "documentary with re-enactments." Usually such efforts end up as cheesy "true crime" stories on CourtTV, seen by no one, noticed not at all. It's therefore understandable that IFC Films chose to market Kevin McDonald's [b]TOUCHING THE VOID[/b] as a kind of "Vertical Limit with accents" -- an action film wrapped a gooey moral dilemma center.
It's a shame, too, because [b]TOUCHING THE VOID[/b] is riveting far beyond what it should be, given that it is structured like a "will he survive" story -- when we already know he does.
"He" is Joe Simpson, a diminutive British man, who together with Simon Yates set out in 1985 to climb the west face of the Siula Grande in the Peruvian Andes. The west face is particularly treacherous, and had never been climbed before. Simpson and Yates were Alpine climbers, which involves traveling very lightly and making rapid progress. But three days into their climb, disaster struck when Simpson took a relatively short fal, but one which drove the lower bones in his leg right through his kneecap. In such situations, rescue is impossible, and this is a risk of which such climbers are aware. Simpson and Yates decided to attempt a descent together, with Yates lowering Simpson three hundred feet at a time via a rope. At one point, Yates unknowingly lowered Simpson over the edge of a crevasse, resulting in Simpson dangling helplessly from the rope. As the snow began to crumble beneath him, Yates was presented with a choice: certain death for both, or saving himself. His choice was to cut the rope.
[b]TOUCHING THE VOID[/b] would have been interesting enough if it had only dealt with Yates' descent and his guilt over having directly caused his companion's death. But with both Simpson and Yates telling their story interspersed with re-enactment footage of the climb, some of it performed by the climbers themselves, some of it by actors Brendan Mackey and Nicholas Aaron, what happened is even more astounding: despite his injuries, hunger, near-crippling thirst, and solitude enough to drive anyone mad, Simpson managed to lower himself inch by inch, and survive the ordeal.
Simpson is now not just a climbing legend, but an in-demand motivational speaker (for obvious reasons) and an acclaimed author, including not just the book on whch this film is based, but several others.
Rather than being cheesy, the re-enactments, so painfully created, show the viewer both the utter insanity of this sort of climbing, and the strange beauty of these mountains that make them so compelling to a certain kind of adventurer. Simpson's experience in first lowering himself deeper into, then climbing out of the crevasse, is as riveting as Frodo's wanderings into Shelob's cave.
For all of its spectacular scenery and the effective, if strange incongruity of the edge-of-your-seat enactment of Simpson's story of survival interwoven with his own curiously dispassionate retelling, [b]TOUCHING THE VOID[/b] is an exhaustng viewing experience. Its last half hour seems to go on endlessly, and is in serious need of editing of about fifteen minutes. It's a fascinating ride, but at the end, you're going to need as much sleep as Joe Simpson did after finally reaching the bottom.
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| GOOD BYE, LENIN! |
| 01.27.04 (8:26 pm) [edit] |
GOOD BYE, LENIN!
Cast: Daniel Bruhl, Katrin Sass, Chulpan Khamatova, Maria Simon, Florian Lukas, and Alexander Beyer
Directed by: Wolfgang Becker
Written by: Wolfgang Becker and Bernd Lichtenberg
Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics (USA 2004)
Rated: R for brief language and sexuality
As Reviewed by: GABRIEL SHANKS
After a string of impressive accolades -- including a near-sweep of the German and European Film Awards, a prime U.S. premiere at Sundance, and the vaunted position of being Germany's official submission for the Foreign Film Oscar (as well as its biggest homegrown box-office success ever) -- it is perhaps surprising to find the family portrait detailed in [b]GOODBYE, LENIN! [/b] is neither epic nor grand, and far removed from anything that could be described as earth-shattering. Here is that rarest of cinematic birds...the quiet smash hit.
Plain and unassuming, the film that set all Germany ablaze is a surprisingly gentle, intimate, and mild comic diversion constructed with evident affection by Wolfgang Becker ([i]Life Is All You Get[/i]). Becker, a producing partner of German wunderkind Tom Tykwer ([i]Run Lola Run[/i], [i]Heaven[/i]), shows little of his colleague's inventiveness or imagination, framing his parable about German reunification and its effect on a broken family in purely conventional terms. There's an undeniable charm to [b]GOODBYE, LENIN![/b], but its disappointing lack of complexity and lackluster wit make it little more than a missed opportunity. Give it an A for effort, but a significantly lower score for quality.
Set in 1989, the film explores that chaotic period when both East and West Germany were facing rapid change -- as was the Kerner family. Christiane (Katrin Sass) is a single mother of nearly adult children, Alex (Daniel Bruhl) and Ariane (Maria Simon). Abandoned when her husband defected to West Germany, Christiane has buried her pain in socialist politics, winning awards and serving East Germany with passion and fortitude. As the film begins, Christiane suffers a heart attack and falls into a coma. When she awakens months later, the entire world has changed -- the Wall has come down, Germany has reunited, and capitalism has already begun to rear its ugly head. Her children, fearing her unstable health, devise a plan to keep their politically passionate mother in the dark about reunification...a plan that leads to increasingly difficult ruses and sagely comic routines. As the children desperately try to halt the march of progress -- even if only in their mother's bedroom -- the boundaries between the changes in the world and the changes in the family become blurred and confusing.
It is this metaphoric meltdown that proves to be the film's undoing. Becker's insistence on extrapolation -- a family's woes echoing the entire country's tribulations -- derail what might otherwise be a fine effort. [b]GOODBYE LENIN![/b] frequently loses its way when it attempts to grow beyond its domestic drama -- bizarre tonal shifts, limp comedy and larger metaphors of splintered nationalism bog down in muddy execution. As one may surmise, Vladimir Lenin isn't really part of the proceedings in Becker's film; he is really a weakly-defined thematic doppleganger, looming spectrally over Germany as it kicks off the last vestiges of Communist control.
Part of the problem is that Becker is unsure of what his film actually is; it careens from comedy to drama without warning, and pivots unsuccessfully between being a straightforward story and an expansive metaphor. At its core, ultimately, [b]GOODBYE LENIN![/b] is based on a simple, and simplistic, deceit; as such, it faces an insurmountable struggle when it tries to force a more complex perspective. Truly moving moments, like Christiane's first tremulous, emotional walk outdoors after the coma, are continually interrupted by cheap sight gags (in this case, it's fuzzy fuchsia lampshades; in others, Western influence is represented by freak pornography and Burger King, respectively.) The core of the film -- the lengths to which Alex will overreach in his protective love for his mother -- is sweet and unvarnished; it's really too bad that Becker isn't satisfied with it, desperately showboating for geopolitical allegories that would have been best left in the background.
Populated with talented performers who clearly relish the family dynamics of the screenplay by Becker and Bernd Lichtenberg, the cast is [b]GOODBYE LENIN![/b]'s most formidable secret weapon, bringing an unadorned grace to every frame. As Alex, Daniel Bruhl is a true find -- handsome, charming, and able to balance the more repugnant qualities of his character with aplomb and humor. It's a credit to Bruhl that the film never goes dark or nasty. Katrin Sass, a veteran of East German cinema who began a career renaissance with her award-winning turn in 2001's [i]Heidi M.[/i], maintains a stoic pride and grace even in her most vulnerable moments. She deftly handles comic dialogue one second, then emotional trauma the next; her performance forms a base upon which the entirety of [b]GOODBYE LENIN![/b] rests. Both Maria Simon and Chulpan Khamatova, as Alex's sister and girlfriend, respectively, turn in sharp, refreshing performances that deepen as the film goes on.
[b]GOODBYE LENIN![/b] overstates the obvious, perhaps, but the effect of Western economics and culture on the newly-open East Germany is starkly dramatic...and funny. In Becker's oversimplified worldview, brand identity becomes the all-purpose symbol of a changing Germany, with Coca-Cola banners and post-Perestroika pickles both figuring in the plot. What a film this might make, a serio-comic expose of Germany's continuing struggle to define, and redefine, itself. Becker's film however, focusing on a microcosmic family dynamic, is simply unable to accommodate the macrocosmic social message forced in between its tender moments. [b]GOODBYE LENIN![/b] is what happens when good intentions get in the way of good storytelling...and when no one knows to leave well enough alone.
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| EXPIRATION |
| 01.11.04 (3:30 pm) [edit] |
EXPIRATION
Cast: Gavin Heffernan, Janet Lane, Erin Simkin, Yetide Badaki, Denise DePass, and Paul Rogic
Directed by: Gavin Heffernan
Written by: Gavin Heffernan
Distributor: Sunchaser Pictures (Canada 2003)
Rated: R
As Reviewed by: GABRIEL SHANKS
Gavin Heffernan's debut film, [b]EXPIRATION[/b], may not be the stuff that legends are made of. Lacking weight, foggily constructed, it is a work that promises much for its young creator's future, even as it delivers only minor pleasures of its own. Taken as an indication of things to come, [b]EXPIRATION [/b]is a sign that Heffernan is one to watch -- and conversely one can see its meandering plot, low-budget stylings, and uneven tone simply as signs of a young talent needing more time to mature. Certainly, there have been less ambitious (and less assured) debuts efforts this year.
Heffernan -- who is only 23 years old -- wrote, directed, edited, and leads the cast of this dreamy batch of interlocking stories set against the stark backdrop of Montreal. Its energy and enthusiasm flow naturally from his palpable youthful exuberance, but the mastery of camera technique and pacing are even more astonishing...they seem to be the work of someone twice his age. Told in the crisp, pungent colors of digital video, [b]EXPIRATION [/b]brings to mind the work of David Gordon Green, whose film [i]All The Real Girls [/i]shares a similar tone and look. Heffernan is not quite the storyteller than Green is, at least not yet -- some of his plot points go far astray, and his climactic scenes lack the air of plausibility (or research, as evidenced by a major gaffe about HIV in blood samples). Overlooking these, however, one can see a talented assemblage of non-professional actors, a sharp visual sensibility, and a larger understanding of theme. Someone in Hollywood, take note: this is the guy you want to hire.
The themes of time shared, time left, and time wasted are embodied most acutely in Sam (Heffernan), who has decided to marry his longtime friend Niki (Erin Simkin) because she is unexpectedly pregnant with his child. On a trip to a Montreal restaurant to propose to Niki, Sam's wedding ring is stolen in a convenience store holdup. Other things were stolen, too -- most particularly, the massive drug stash of the reluctant dealer Rachel (Janet Lane), who partners with Sam to track down the robber. Meanwhile, the abandoned Niki is befriended by a streetwalker, Julia (Denise DePass), who pays her to temporarily watch her daughter Naomi (Yetide Badaki).
If it sounds a bit circular, it is. But while [b]EXPIRATION[/b] is wearing out its welcome, there's some surprisingly fine performance work in this mobius strip of a plot, particularly from DePass and Lane, both of whom exhibit real star power. (Lane's resume boasts a small part in George Clooney's [i]Confessions of a Dangerous Mind[/i], so here's hoping that Lane moves quickly to Hollywood's It-Girl status.) The original score by Jon Day contributes mightily to the hazy mood of cinematographers Sebastian Grobys and Ben Dally, only occasionally becoming overbearing. Indeed, if it weren't for the distinctly sub-par sound design by Robin Davies, [b]EXPIRATION [/b]could easily pass for the work of any major Hollywood-based indie.
Recognizing the good beneath the surfaces of [b]EXPIRATION [/b]doesn't automatically make it must-see viewing; in fact, one could state that it's ephemeral nature makes it forgettable almost the moment the end credits finish. Whether audiences decide to check out this qualified success or not depends muchly on their desire to see Heffernan as The Next Possibly Big Thing. I'm betting on him, but as anyone at the racetrack will tell you, the road to success is paved with promising newcomers.
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| THE FOG OF WAR: ELEVEN LESSONS FROM THE LIFE OF ROBERT S. McNAMARA, JR. |
| 01.03.04 (12:45 pm) [edit] |
THE FOG OF WAR: ELEVEN LESSONS FROM THE LIFE OF ROBERT S. McNAMARA, JR.
Cast: Robert S. McNamara, Lyndon B. Johnson, John F. Kennedy (as themselves)
Directed by: Errol Morris
Written by: Errol Morris
Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics (US 2003)
Rated: PG-13 for images and thematic issues of war and destruction
As Reviewed by: GABRIEL SHANKS
If you're like most audience members who choose to buy a ticket for [b]THE FOG OF WAR[/b], you're probably going interested in getting the answer to one major, burning question...what does Robert McNamara have to say for himself? As one of the architects of the Vietnam War (and a studied master of the Cold War, as Secretary of Defense under Kennedy and Johnson), there are many lives, and many deaths, which directly or indirectly hang on the decisions the 85-year-old McNamara has made over his life. Documentarian Errol Morris ([i]Fast Cheap and Out of Control[/i]) gets this burdensome question out of the way quickly -- McNamara proffers an unconvincing non-apology apology in the first scene. But don't be fooled. Both McNamara and Morris know the answers are not that simple...the fog is just beginning, and by the end of this mesmerizing real-life drama, Morris has exposed a carefully calibrated, endlessly fascinating example of humanity at odds with itself.
Subtitled "Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S. McNamara, Jr.", [b]THE FOG OF WAR[/b] is part biography, part autobiography; McNamara narrates the film and stares directly into the camera as he recollects events and stories from his life. At the beginning he cheerily, even smugly, relates the details of his humble birth, his triumphant business career, and his early successes in the Kennedy Administration. One gets the sense that McNamara might like it to end there, but of course there's more. Tension begins to build -- about halfway through the film, an offscreen Morris says to McNamara that "sooner or later, we have to talk about Vietnam"...at which point McNamara jumps back ten years, to the 1950's.
McNamara is not fearful of these more ambiguous matters. Rather, he wants to make sure that the facts, as he perceives them, are as clear as possible. "We see only half the story sometimes," intones McNamara at one point, and it is clear that he is talking about both his own metaphoric blindness and the one he presumes us to have. McNamara has reached a point in his life where he has examined his actions many times over, and perhaps the most surprisingly element is his sum-zero assessment that the ends, in every scenario, justified the means. McNamara began adulthood as a statistician, and his constant balancing of numbers -- the number killed versus the greater good -- is applied with startling efficiency.
A polished lecturer, McNamara chides the viewer didactically, even arrogantly, throughout [b]THE FOG OF WAR[/b]. While the film clearly demonstrates the need for re-examination of the tangled issues of McNamara's tenure at the Pentagon, the man himself has no qualms. His is a carefully constructed psyche, one that has carefully navigated the schism between pride and shame, patriotism and embarrassment, right and wrong. When he discusses the memos he wrote -- which may have led to the bombing of Tokyo in World War II -- he exposes a fascinating capacity for moral uncertainty that lacks self-doubt. McNamara's assessment of his actions is clear -- there wasn't any other choice. The fatalism that peppers his reasoning suggests that the roads taken, even if not ethically certain, were the only ones available, at least in his mind. "In order to do good, you may have to do evil," McNamara instructs the viewer. It is a useful truism, but one created after the fact...a justification that closes any conversation within the man.
Errol Morris is generally accepted as one of the world's finest documentarians, and [b]THE FOG OF WAR[/b] proves that the reputation is warranted. Letting McNamara do the talking is the only way to get inside the man...his actions are a matter of historical record, and his choices have been calculated and recalculated. What better way to show the fogginess that creates large-scale violence than to show the fogginess of the thinking that is behind it? Certainly, Morris makes a few glib, glossy errors: flashy graphics of death totals in Japan are too facile and showy...or morbid. The "eleven lessons" of McNamara are given trite treatment, popping up in title cards throughout the film, blunting pointing out the obvious incongruity of statements like "rationality will not save us." McNamara's claim of inventing the seat belt for automobiles -- arguably the best thing the man ever did with his life, and one for which is he justifiably proud -- is undercut by Morris' chosen graphic of dropping skulls crashing to the ground to illustrate car safety testing. (Credit must be given where it's due, however, and composer Philip Glass must be mentioned. Glass creates a doom-filled Wagnerian score that rivals his magnificent work on Scorsese's Kundun, endowing McNamara's cheery statistics with a tragically portentous counterpoint.)
One of the unintended, but certainly telling, consequences of [b]THE FOG OF WAR[/b] is that it points out the striking similarities between McNamara and the current Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld. Both men have had to defend unpopular wars in the media, but there's more to it than that -- they share a demeanor, a moodiness, and similar speaking cadences and gestures. Is there something that requires the civilian leader of the U.S. Armed Forces to have a steamrolling nature? A disdain for gray areas? An absolutist morality? Possibly. As Errol Morris' film implicitly argues, we have not seen the last of the issues that McNamara faced. [b]THE FOG OF WAR[/b] lets us intimately see the dangers of history repeating itself...and the ease with which it can.
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| IN AMERICA |
| 01.02.04 (8:05 am) [edit] |
IN AMERICA
Cast: Paddy Considine, Samantha Morton, Sarah Bolger, Emma Bolger, and Djimon Hounsou
Directed by: Jim Sheridan
Written by: Jim, Naomi and Kirsten Sheridan
Distributor: Fox Searchlight Pictures (US 2003)
Rated: PG-13 for healthy adult sexuality, references to "junkies," a mugging, and various arts-related violence
As Reviewed by: MARTIN SCRIBBS
Jim Sheridan's semi-autobiographical [b]IN AMERICA[/b] blew me away.
A young Irish couple (Considine and Morton) take their two daughters (played by the Bolger sisters) to live in the United States. The whole family carries into Manhattan the ghost of Frankie, the five-year old son and brother who they lost to a senseless accident. Frankie appears in the home movies that his sister Christy plays endlessly on her portable camcorder; Frankie's father, Johnny, instinctively seeks Frankie out when tussling with the girls, only to be crushed anew by his absence; Sarah, Johnny's wife, spoils a rare romantic interlude when she looks in Johnny's eyes and sees those of her dead son. For all the other highs and lows the family endures, this story can't be over until each member says goodbye to Frankie as he was -- and means it.
The incredible montage of the family's arrival in 1980s New York, set to "Do You Believe in Magic," sold me on this story. Joy shines through the children as they squeal and giggle their way through Times Square. And then, after they get a place to live, their Dad's epic struggle to get an air conditioner installed, including lugging it across four lanes of NYC traffic and up several flights of stairs, was worthy of [i]A Christmas Story[/i]. That he bodily evicts a rapping stockbroker from his cab makes Johnny one of my favorite film characters of the year. "An' don' forget yer fancy handbag!" And the nun playing the song "Desperado" as Christy sings it, and the kids gabbing with the cab dispatcher, and... Well, any story that can bring so many delights I'll permit some latitude with my heartstrings.
Prepare to be manipulated as you haven't been since Prom Night. Showing how high suspense can build from the simplest of materials, [b]IN AMERICA[/b] makes us witness a simple ball-toss game at a carnival which threatens to bankrupt the family; shows Christy perform CPR on an AIDS patient and how she becomes quietly terrified that she's caught the disease; makes us worry deeply about a premature baby on the verge and her grief-stricken mother. Less manipulative because it is less sympathetic, [b]IN AMERICA[/b] shows rage and self-loathing of parents who have lost a young one. Johnny goes off on the family's magical black friend Mateo (Hounsou): "God? I asked God for a favor once, to take me instead of Frankie. Well, he took us both. And look what he left in my place." Between that and a delusional post-partum Sarah yelling at her husband that Frankie's death was his fault, we're left under no delusion that this is a perfect family. (Earlier, with perfect clarity of mind, Sara tells him, "that's why you can't get a job acting, Johnny, because you can't feel anything!" Ouch.)
Sheridan shows how pretend and play can act as a protective mechanism, employed both by children and by the parents. While the concept may evoke the Holocaust comedy [i]Life Is Beautiful[/i], the execution is here is far lighter. Sarah has lemon drops that she tells the kids will help keep the baby safe; Mateo pretends that a painting with his own blood had been made with spaghetti sauce; Sarah constantly tells Johnny to play-act being happy, for the kids' sakes. Sometimes pretend helps and heals, and sometimes it doesn't, but Sheridan rightly points out how often pretend can turn on a dime and become deadly serious.
You could drive the family's beat-up station wagon through some of the plot holes; the child narrator tells corny ancedotes, as a child would; the picture's spirituality is an unthoughtful pastiche of Christian and neo-pagan, topped with a dollop of grief management cliche. Nevertheless, a great story well told is too rare to snipe at -- you'll enjoy [b]IN AMERICA[/b] as a feast for the heart.
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Welcome to Mixed Reviews Single Servings. Here you'll find short reviews of current and past movies for people too busy to read a full review.
You can find full-length reviews of present and past films, from Hollywood releases to independent films to "hidden treasures" that haven't been released yet, at our main site, Mixed Reviews. Please browse our archive for links to reviews of films dating back to 1998.
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