This is essentially the year’s big gun independent flick, like 2004′s Garden State. The first half is somewhat endearing and amusing, but the clichés begin piling up and it slowly starts to fall apart once Grandpa bites the dust. Steve Carrell is terrific as the suicidal gay brother, and the rest of the cast is solid enough, but there’s really a “been there, done that” vibe with the whole affair; characters like the Nietzsche-obsessed, silent-by-choice Dwayne reek of look-at-me indie cockiness. Additionally, the ending is a real odd duck: Olive’s dance routine begs the question of why her grandfather (who gave no indications of being a pedophile) would teach her such dance move. Faithful readers, feel free to enlighten me on the ‘deep’ meaning behind the finale. Harmless enough as passable road movies go, but I can’t help but wish directors of films like these would grow some damn balls.
48/100
Thank You For Smoking gets much of its juice from a superb Aaron Eckhart as Nick Naylor, a smooth-talking spokesman for Big Tobacco who has to balance his slimy pandering with the ever-delicate act of fatherhood. Sure, the ultimate message (smoking = baaaad) is pretty heavy-handed, but there’s a more interesting theme at play here; do those who represent causes that they know are bad take their work home to their families at night? While a lobbyist is obviously an extreme example of this concept, I imagine scores of accountants, attorneys, and other such professionals wrestle with the same issue on a daily basis. Thank You For Smoking implies that as tough a balancing act as it may be, it can be accomplished. Indeed, the finest and most poignant moments in Thank You For Smoking are the father/son moments between Nick and his boy Joey: unorthodox, to be sure, as many occur on a promotional road trip to California, but authentic nonetheless. Parts of the film, such as Katie Holmes’ boring reporter character (the ol’ “I’ll fuck anyone for a story” journalist tramp), feel kinda recycled, but that’s standard in today’s indie market. All things considered, this one’s well above-average.
Mediocrity defined, this one. In fact, movies like Catch a Fire are perhaps the most banal sort to write about. There certainly aren’t any glowing aspects to report; the cinematography, while adequate, isn’t nearly as poetic as in Noyce’s Rabbit-Proof Fence, and the story as a whole lacks the lyrical quality that made Rabbit-Proof Fence so touching. And there aren’t really any groan-inducing moments to poke fun at. Catch a Fire just lazes at the edge of banality, never taking any chances to spice up a potentially engaging tale, but never resorting to enough hokum to spur an overly harsh review. Depicting a socially restless 1980′s South Africa, Catch a Fire is the story of young foreman Patrick (Derek Luke), who’s your African equivalent of your average American Joe. He works to support his pregnant wife, coaches a youth soccer league, and doesn’t really give a damn about his country’s politics until they’re smack in his face: one day, he and his wife Precious (Bonnie Henna) are wrongly tossed in jail by police Colonel Nic Vos (a hammy Tim Robbins) on suspicious of terrorism. The charges are eventually dropped, but the incident burns in the furious Patrick’s mind: he resolves to no longer ignore the political unrest around him, and take matters into his own hands to fight the oppression and prejudices. This all sounds wonderfully exciting, but the bland direction and choppy pacing prevent it from ever gripping its audience. The politics aren’t insulting, but they’re certainly undeveloped: aside from Robbins’ actions (and he’s hardly a villain), very little is really learned about South Africa’s policies and beliefs.
Until an inexplicably awful revelation at the end, The Prestige is a taut, exciting portrait of obsession and the dark competitive spirit of professional magicians. Like all of Nolan’s works, successful or not, there’s a brooding ambience present in The Prestige: one thing the film isn’t is uplifting or cheerily hokey. Set in turn-of-the-century London, The Prestige focuses on rival conjurers Robert Angier (Hugh Jackman) and Alfred Borden (Christian Bale, who slowly grow to loathe each other: nothing would please either more than to publicly humiliate the other. Thanks in large part to Jackman’s fantastic performance, The Prestige manages to gracefully build its ominous mood as the story progresses, and our loyalties, while more often with Angier, tends to shift back and forth between the fanatical wizards. In many ways, The Prestige plays out like a Shakespearian tragedy. There’s the tormented lovers, murder, betrayal (often of the double and triple twist nature), and operatic tone throughout. Nolan (or the Hollywood suits, whoever had the final say here) gets it right for most of the 139 minute run-time, but the ending is a real head-scratcher: it’s as if Nolan simply reached the end of shooting, and suddenly realized that he had no clue how to tie things together…so he chose the most clichéd route imaginable, which seriously detracts from the impressive product that preceded it. Making it even worse, it’s a blunder that can actually be detected early on by the observant viewer (I know, I know, this runs counterintuitive to what I just said, but take my word for it; you’ll see). Thankfully, The Prestige is strong enough cinema prior to the poor finish to be well worth your time.
Christopher Guest’s mockumentaries (Waiting for Guffman; Best in Show; A Mighty Wind) have ranged from at best, side-splitting, to at worst, dryly amusing…until now. His latest, For Your Consideration, smacks of an impostor at the helm, as if some cocky NYU film grad smugly decided to make *his own* Christopher Guest movie. Aside from an occasional chuckle, For Your Consideration is banal and, worst of all, frequently annoying. Strange, too, as the premise–the set of a fictional movie, where the stars seem poised to earn the unlikeliest of Oscar nods–appears custom-made for Guest’s comedic style. The usual cast of thousands, including Parker Posey and Eugene Levy, are all in place. So what went wrong? I suspect that Guest became a bit too enamored of his past successes, and relaxed while up on his high horse. The usual spark and wit is absent, replaced by stale banter that feels recycled from previous material. Not recommended.
Hailed as “one of the funniest comedies ever” by more than one critic, I can only conclude that these folks haven’t seen enough comedies; either that, or they’re religious groupies of Da Ali G Show. That’s not to say that Borat isn’t frequently uproarious and occasionally side-splitting…but it’s very hit-or-miss, prone to stretches of unnecessary crudeness and flat one-liners. The biggest problem, though, is that multiple parts of Borat are clearly pre-scripted, and that runs counter to what makes Sacha Baron Cohen’s schtick so fresh; when he’s on, his humor stems from his remarkable ad-libbing talents, his astounding ability to provoke racists & ignorant jerks to show their true selves on camera. While there’s certainly some of that in Borat, moments such as the Pamela Anderson finale feel disappointingly flat. Negatives aside, Borat is still significantly more amusing than most comedies around these days (as well as more original), and it’s definitely an effective message on the fucked-up American politics of our time. I don’t really have much more to say about it, which in and of itself is disappointing. This capsule probably comes across as harsher than it should, I just expected more…
Certainly a crucial watch—much of the material is crushingly distressing, and a vehement indictment on the denials and carelessness pervading not just America, but the entire world. The title is particularly apt: nobody wants to bother dealing with such grim realities, particularly when the immediate consequences aren’t right in front of their faces, and the dismissive demeanors of the political big-wigs here in the United States just encourage such irresponsible behavior. Global warming is clearly of great importance to former Vice President Al Gore, and he delivers the countless sobering facts with more emotion and passion than the public witnessed during the 2000 Presidential debates (unfortunately for our country). All this said, though, An Inconvenient Truth isn’t much of a film. Most of it feels like a college lecture, complete with the requisite graphs, numbers, and trend charts. While that’s an adequate enough way to get the point across, I can’t help but wonder what the raves for this film are really about. I suspect that much of it comes, subconsciously at least, from the consistent anti-Bush sentiment that permeates throughout the picture. While I’m as ecstatic as any Democrat that we reclaimed the House & the Senate, even I found the constant jabs at Bush and his ignorance to be a bit childish and annoying, as accurate as it may be. Too often, these insults appeared to exist solely as cheap shots, without adding anything of merit to the discussion. There are enough (hysterical) Bush-isms on YouTube and limewire—director Davis Guggenheim and Gore should have been above that nonsense, and focused on the topic at hand. While An Inconvenient Truth serves as an important message movie, it doesn’t really have much to offer beyond that. Absolutely recommended if you don’t feel like going to a library and reading hours and hours of research, or signing up for an Earth Science course at Columbia…