Run Fatboy Run

Run Fatboy Run is not the type of movie you would typically see me reviewing. In reality, the fact that I watched it in the first place surprises even me. The preview turned me off: another movie about an idiot and his idiot ways. Do we really need another one of these?

Apparently, we do.

Was I surprised? A little. Was I impressed? Maybe a smidge. But these are mostly because all I saw from the preview was an unappealing Simon Pegg looking ridiculous as he gets in shape. How much can a person expect from that?

The opening part was actually interesting enough that I thought, “Maybe there’s more to this than I originally thought.” Pegg plays Dennis Doyle, and we first become acquainted with him when he runs away from his girlfriend, Libby (played by a too-attractive Thandie Newton), leaving her at the altar. Pregnant. Fast forward to 5 years later and he’s living by himself in a shabby apartment, not paying his rent on time and not exactly being a shining role model for his son, Jake. He clearly loves Jake and is involved in his life, but Dennis is just terrible at following through on things.

Even though Dennis left Libby at the worst possible time, he still cares for her and has high hopes of them getting back together. She deals with him politely enough, only wanting to make sure Jake has a relationship with his father. Eventually she finds a new man, Whit, an American businessman who’s in excellent shape and does something that Dennis doesn’t: finish things. Of course this guy pisses Dennis off, and he feels like he has to compete with Whit for Libby as well as Jake.

In his lame, desperate attempts to convince Libby that he’s better than Whit, Dennis learns that Whit runs marathons. In fact, he’s running in one coming up in London. What better way to compete with this guy? What better way to gain admiration from his son and his friends, and prove to Libby that he really IS a finisher?

And so, with three weeks to train (I will say, there were some decent humorous moments here) and with a little help from his friends, Dennis learns some discipline and stamina. He starts to connect with some of the people around him in a new way as he gains their support. Through the process, he learns more about himself and what he can offer. I won’t spoil the ending for you, but if you’ve ever seen a movie before, you probably won’t be too surprised. ;)

Run Fatboy Run is directed by David Schwimmer in what I believe is his first film attempt. I’ll be honest: it’s not very promising as a first shot at directing. To his credit, Schwimmer recognizes good acting and directs his characters pretty well. But just because Simon Pegg, Thandie Newton and Hank Azaria can act doesn’t make this film worth watching.

Even though Run Fatboy Run is full of stupid gags, it still has a lot of heart. I can get behind that, definitely. And Simon Pegg is able to portray his characters in such a unique, complete way, which I absolutely admire. However, none of these things were enough to save it for me. The comedic moments were so base and I barely got a smile out of most of them. And the plot unfolds in such a way that I could predict almost exactly what was going to happen throughout the entire thing. In the end, I really felt I got very little out of the experience. There was an abundance of predictability, corny-ness, and eye-rolling moments. For me, none of these things really make for a very enjoyable movie-watching experience.

Rating: 1

Run Fatboy Run fell flat for me. A good lesson, it had some heartfelt moments that were sprinkled heavily with run-of-the-mill slapstick humor. As a result, the moments didn’t successfully complete their purpose. The cast saved it to a degree (in keeping it from being terribly dull) but I didn’t feel particularly moved or entertained. It was so pre-packaged, trite and cliché that I couldn’t invest myself at all, I just kept looking for the next predictable ingredient in the plot recipe.

Though I’m overflowing with apathy about it, I have to say that the few moments I laughed and the sweetness of it all pushed it over into the positives. While I would say that I didn’t really like it, I’d have to admit that I’d rather watch it than stare at a blank television screen. Most of the time.

Burn After Reading

After the Cohen Brothers’ unbelievable (and undeserved, IMHO) Oscar success last year, they’re in a pretty good position.  They already had the clout and respect to make any movie they wanted, and with No Country for Old Men winning all those awards, they could also have any star they wanted.  They basically said, “Let’s write all the things we’ve wanted to write for years, and make up our dream parts for our dream actors, and the mash them all together.”  They did just that, and out of the primordial ooze we have Burn After Reading.  If it feels thrown together and random, that’s because it is.

I’ll be honest; I think the Cohen Brothers are very overrated.  That comment will most likely make indie snobs everywhere want to get out their pitchforks and torches, but it’s true.  O Brother, Where Art Thou? was great, but a bit of an odd duck in their filmography, I found.  The rest of their movies are so much darker that they almost seem like they were made by different people.  They were total pricks for their Best Picture acceptance speech last year, but I will say that no one does dark comedy quite as well as the Cohens.  No Country for Old Men contained almost no comedy at all, just darkness, while Burn After Reading is pretty much the opposite.

It also contains some good performances, Brad Pitt and George Clooney in particular.  Pitt plays Chad, a personal trainer at a local gym.  Chad is a dork.  He and his buddy Linda (Frances McDormand in a good but non-challenging turn) find some “files” on a CD-RW at the gym, belonging to Osbourne Cox (John Malkovich), former mid-level CIA analyst who is writing his memoirs.  His wife Katie (Tilda Swinton), unsatisfied in their marriage, is screwing Harry (George Clooney), who in turn starts screwing Linda.  Linda and Chad try blackmailing Osbourne for the “files,” which he thinks are his memoirs.  Also in the mix is Ted (Richard Jenkins), mild-mannered manager of the gym where Chad and Linda work.  Jenkins is sadly underutilized, and his character basically just gets in the way.

Burn After Reading is about the two worlds of the complicated and the simple, and what happens when they collide.  The two worlds seem very different at first glance, but you come to realize that they have in common that they’re both filled with complete idiots.  But the movie is also about fantastically dumb people, and the trouble they get themselves and each other into.  Almost everyone in the movie is looking for something, and very pointedly not finding it.  Linda wants a new body, and thus a new confidence.  Harry wants human connection, and thinks he can only get it through sex.  Osbourne wants to be respected.  Katie wants to be in control of absolutely everything.  Ted just wants to be loved.  Chad wants money.  But all of them are just so incompetent at getting what they want.  It’s like watching a bunch of blind-folded people trying to turn off a lamp.

Ethan and Joel Cohen’s twisted sense of humor kinda alienated me, as it usually does, and the story didn’t really keep me engaged.  There were some definite laugh-out-loud moments, and I appreciated the very snarky and character-driven comedy, but the movie suffered from not really being about anything in particular.  The CIA supervisor said it best at the end of the movie.  “What did we learn, Palmer?  I don’t fuckin’ know.  I guess we learned not to do it again.  I’m fucked if I know what we did, though.”  As a viewer, that sums up my feeling after the film.  I’m clueless as to what lesson I should take away from this, and I have a sneaking suspicion that there wasn’t a lesson at all.

Iconic lines (or exchanges):

Harry: Go around the corner, we’ll do it in the back.

Katie: You’re so coarse.

Harry: Back of the car… not a… rear entry situation.

Osbourne: I have a drinking problem?  Peck, you’re a Mormon!  Compared to you, we ALL have a drinking problem!

Linda: Does he look like he would have a sense of humor?

Chad: Looks like his optometrist has a sense of humor.

22 Rating: 4

Particle Man

The Other Boleyn Girl

King Henry VIII is quite a famous figure in European History. In fact, he is so popular that there have been many incarnations of him on both the large and small screens. Now I hate to burst people’s bubbles, but he did more than kill a bunch of wives and father two queens of England.
However, that is usually the only thing that most people remember about him. Phillippa Gregory certainly did not shy away from this when she wrote the The Other Boleyn Girl. In this story there are two sisters who are both vying for the affections of the still married King of England, one out of genuine love for the king and the other out of a hope to achieve the highest position that she and her family can obtain. The names of these sisters are Mary and Anne Boleyn. This story became quite the best seller and naturally was adapted for a movie version.
I watched this movie begrudgingly. As a historian I hate to see history being butchered and simplified because the writers are afraid that the actual events won’t captivate their audiences, but that is a rant for another day. Now this movie wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t necessarily a piece of cinematic genius either. It was somewhat entertaining and had pretty costumes, but the praises kind of end there.
Let me tell you what one of my biggest problems with the movie was. In this story Mary Boleyn is 14 years old, which considering how she is traded by her family and husband for advancement makes me throw up a little. Now the wonderful people who brought us this film decide to hire Scarlett Johansson to play her. WTF!!!!!!! I understand that Hollywood doesn’t always hire actresses who are the same age as their character, but c’mon someone in their early twenties portraying someone in their early teens, is a bit much. I am in no way saying that she is not a good actress, but she was very miscast in this role. To play someone that is incredibly young may be a job for a younger actress, but that is of course only if they want the movie to be credible.
Natalie Portman, as Anne Boleyn, portrays the calculating older sister who is also angling for the Kings attention. She does a good job at portraying a backstabbing witch, and looks younger than Johansson, which was also a mistake in casting. But at this point the directors were probably mostly thinking of how much star power they could get into this movie.
There really weren’t any other standout performances in this film. However, as someone who has always loved the clothing of that period, the costumes were lovely. But really isn’t it a bad sign when the costumes are the biggest plus of a movie, not the plot, or acting? As I said before, this wasn’t a terrible movie and does have the potential to be slightly entertaining, but I feel that it would a denial of who I am to give the movie anything above a 4.

Hancock

Hancock is a summer movie--with all the connotations that come with that. It's big and bold and brassy but also broad and basic and a little brainless.

The real shame of it is that it comes with a potentially nifty conceit: Will Smith, as Hancock, is a boozy, anti-social, drifteresque superhero. It's a premise with promise, and the film, in the first half, even does a bit of fiddling with the tantalizing contradiction of being universally recognized as a city's superhero versus being universally overlooked as a member of the city's underclass.

Alas, it doesn't last. Smith's Hancock halfheartedly thwarts some criminals, drunkenly destroys some property, and then, fatefully, saves Jason Bateman from being hit by a train. In return, Bateman, a PR agent, offers to help rehabilitate Hancock's image. He suggests that Hancock voluntarily incarcerate himself until the citizens of Los Angeles need him again, at which point they'll embrace him with open arms. So he does. And they do.

A non-summer-blockbuster might have spent the whole movie unraveling the complexities involved in being entirely exceptional, yet still needing to have approval from the mediocre masses. But in this version of Hancock, this happens in a manner that's a bit too . . . uncomplicated. Smith's transformation doesn't seem to be all that difficult, and it's pretty much fully realized by the time the first 45 minutes of the movie are over. The filmmakers seem to have decided that that's all the introspection summer audiences could handle.

So, instead, we get The Twist. I will say this about The Twist: I didn't see it coming. If you want to remain similarly surprised, you'll do well to heed this:

******************SPOILER ALERT**************************

So, just as Hancock was rounding into a perfectly acceptable superhero--thanks to Jason Bateman's PR acumen--we find out *gasp* that Hancock is NOT, in fact, the only one of his kind. In fact, he's a member of a now nearly extinct race of superbeings, the only other surviving member of which is Jason Bateman's wife. (Man, what are the odds!)

Bateman's wife is played capably by Charlize Theron, but her shift from typical housewife to superbeing is too sudden and jarring to work. As Theron explains to Smith, she and he were "made" together, the result of which is that they're inexorably drawn to each other via some weird superanimal supermagnetism. But there's a drawback: The more time they spend together, the weaker their powers become. This is the sort of conceit that I might accept from a superhero universe with a bit more history to it, but in this 2-hour arc it felt a bit forced and hackneyed.

In any case, this all ends predictably, with Smith having to make the heart-rending decision to leave Theron in order to save her life. (Bateman, by the way, seems to be affected very little by all these proceedings. If I found out that, not only was my wife a superhero who could easily kick my ass, but that she has a superhero lover out there who could kick it as well . . . Well, I have to believe I wouldn't sleep very well at night.)

******************END OF SPOILERS**************************

In the end, Hancock is a interesting premise that somehow turns into an entirely forgettable experience. There's hardly any investment in the characters, which, unfortunately for the studio, somewhat negates their investment in high-priced special effects. The result is a movie provokes a "hmm," followed by a "huh?", followed by a rather weak: "oh." And that "oh" resonates to the tune of a -2.

Punisher: War Zone

As most of you would have noticed, I've been on leave this fall due to school. Finals aren't until Tuesday, but I couldn't resist coming back early after WLC's review of Wanted, and her issues with the film. She brought up a lot of good points about violence in certain films that, much to my chagrin, are aptly illustrated in the latest failed attempt to bring Marvel Comics' dark vigilante The Punisher to the screen, in Punisher:War Zone.
A brief primer, for the uninitiated: The Punisher, aka Frank Castle first popped up in the pages of Amazing Spider-Man as a foil to Spider-Man. Castle was a former Marine whose family had been killed in the crossfire of a mob hit in Central Park, leaving Castle the only survivor. Completely shattered by the experience, he became The Punisher and declared a (very literal) war on crime, executing pimps, drug dealers, etc. Astute students of pop culture will note a resemblance to a certain Mack Bolan, Executioner. The character enjoyed massive popularity in the 1980s before burning out thanks to excessive exposure and market saturation. After several aborted attempts to revive the character, the Irish writer Garth Ennis successfully brought the Punisher back to the forefront with stories heavy with violent black humor and new depths of characterization that redefined the laconic Frank Castle. This popularity continued through Ennis' dark "mature readers only" take on the character that had little to nothing in common with the mainstream Marvel universe, in which the aging Punisher had been racking up the kills for dozens of years, and was undoubtedly the most dangerous man in his universe.
Sounds simple, right? A tortured man that had lost any chance at a normal life, who fought to end the worst evils mankind had to offer? This has been used successfully elsewhere (*cough, Jack Bauer, cough*), so how did they screw it up so badly? The story is as follows: The Punisher (Rome's Ray Stevenson) conducts a raid on a mafioso's mansion at the beginning of the film, and accidentally kills a deep cover FBI agent while cleaning up loose ends. Stricken with guilt, he decides to quit his vigilantism. Meanwhile, mafia hitman Billy Russotti (The Wire's Dominic West) survives being tossed into a glass-crushing machine by the Punisher and begins calling himself Jigsaw, and moves to take over organized crime in the city, and kill the Punisher. Throw in the dead FBI agent's partner out for revenge, the dead agent's wife (BTVS/Angel's Julie Benz, in one of the worst performances of the year) and child in Jigsaw, and wackiness ensues, as the man said.
There were a lot of different people that worked on the script for this one, and as a direct result, there are a lot of things wrong with it. First and foremost, the tone of the film isn't quite "there". It seems to be based on the early Ennis Punisher tales, and is a lot more humorous. But....what works on a comic page doesn't necessarily work on the silver screen. The filmmakers would have been better off making the film more serious. Also, there's quite a bit of terrible or cliched dialogue.....if it's 2008 or later, and you're writing a script in which an FBI agent refers to a room full of cops as "Krispy-Kreme scarfing m***********s", you might want to step back and reconsider. The Punisher's crisis of faith took far too little to trigger in such a fanatic character, and wreaks havoc with the believeability of the film.....the Punisher will likely stop hunting down criminals as soon as Amy Winehouse stops smoking crack, and this sticks out. If you need a driven character to harbor serious doubts, at least give them a deep-seated and personal reason to do so (like Batman is given with the death of Rachel Dawes in The Dark Knight). The violence in the film feels very fake and "video game", and that's a problem on several levels. One, it looks silly, CGI blood everywhere. What's wrong with practical effects, squibs and such? Two, there is little to distinguish the Punisher's behavior and motivations from the criminals, except that he only goes after "bad guys". This is another greviously damaging aspect of the movie. Had we been shown definitive proof that the Punisher was absolutely necessary, it would be easier to root for him. Not that it's all that difficult, but this could be one of the reasons the film didn't/isn't resonating with non-fans. Probably the worst crime of the movie is that while the character is portrayed more or less accurately, the film version of Jigsaw is a carbon copy of the Jack Nicholson's Joker from the 1989 Batman film, right down to a scene where a doctor explains that there was nothing left of his face and he had very little to work with. This kind of hackery can't even be passed off as homage, and has no place in a professionally crafted script.
Now.....for the good. I have quite possibly never seen a bad film with so many good performances, especially from Ray Stevenson. Stevenson is easily the best screen version of the Punisher, and does a lot with such a dialogue-sparse character. He excels at dry humor (as demonstrated in a scene with the second best on-screen use of a pencil this year), and handles some rough dialogue and questionable scenes with great skill. It's too bad that this material give him the opportunity to show us even more. Dash Mihok shines as the pathetic Detective Soap, police stooge for the Punisher, drawing most of the intended laughs in the film. The film has a great, grainy look with lots of harsh neons and a New York City that looks truly filthy and pre-Giuliani. Think of the look as "Dick Tracy Goes to Hell", and Punisher cover mainstay Tim Bradstreet would certainly be proud. And for all the unevenness that precedes it, it has a truly killer final scene.
While this is a vast improvement over the previous Punisher films, it's still not that great. I will see it again, and probably watch it on video, but all the while thinking of what could have been. I give Punisher: War Zone 9 out of 22 on the 22 scale, and the score is ONLY that high because I'm a big fan of the source material.

Wanted

Initial Reaction: "Bleh...I feel used..."

...Used in the sense that Wanted took advantage of my enjoyment of action films. I didn't experience an action-packed, edge-of-my seat thrill ride with cool new sequences and moves. I felt I had been marketed a cheap copy of films that have actually been successful in this genre. It's one of many, and frankly I'm getting sick of it. Allow me to elaborate.

When the film opens, James McAvoy is Wesley Gibson, an account manager for company X. He's living in a crappy apartment with a girlfriend who's sleeping with his best friend, and he suffers from anxiety attacks for which he takes medication. He can't stand his life, and feels completely numb to everything around him. But something exciting is in store for Mr. Gibson. (Literally...it happens in a store.)

Enter Ms. Jolie as Fox (ha, ha) to tell Wesley that his father was one of a league of assassins, one of the greatest that ever lived. He had just been killed by a rogue assassin who--in the same scene--shows up and begins trading gunfire as Fox tries to protect Wesley. She brings him to meet their leader, Sloan (Morgan Freeman) who explains that Wesley's fate is to become one of them and to kill his father's murderer. Appropriately, the wimpy Wesley is freaked out beyond belief and runs away. But as I'm sure you can guess, he finds his way back to the group after going back to his normal life and realizing he can't go through with it anymore.

This was one of the first problems I had with Wanted. Gibson goes from being a sad, boring account manager to a giddy killer. Literally in hours. With the first glimpse of the assassin gang and the traumatizing circumstance of shooting and being shot at, he's terrified and disbelieving. Probably a good response. Then the next morning, he suddenly finds some strength to tell the people around him to f*ck off, and now becoming a killer is an enticing, satisfying option. Oh, I can see that...the last time I was in a shoot-out and captured by an assassin gang, my next day at work was extremely dissatisfying.

Please.

Next is the "Becoming an Assassin 101" part of the film. He's beaten, cut up, interrogated, and through these experiences learns valuable lessons such as fighting atop a moving train, catching a spindle, and the oh-so-cool "curving a bullet." This part is decent enough, but aside from the interesting bullet thing, just an excuse for some more violence.

And of course, our dear sweet Wesley becomes sufficiently bad-ass. He's given his first assignments and starts to live the life of a true assassin. The best part of the film in my opinion is where the plot decides to go in the second half of the film. We see a little more realness in the struggle of killing people he doesn't even know, and there's a decent plot hitch that made me more interested in the ending. The ending itself was headed in a good direction, I think, but ended up shooting itself in the foot.

Lastly, my least favorite part of the film: the moral of the story. Or rather, the anti-moral. **slight spoiler** It offers a rallying cry to its viewers to do something with their lives. But, wait...wasn't this about assassins? Are you telling me to improve my quality of life by committing murder? REALLY?? And I thought I was living a good life by NOT participating in such things. Guess I was misled. I don't care if this was only meant as a joke, because then it's even worse; it makes the lead character and practically the entire film just that: a joke.

Violence has become sort of pornographic, taking center stage as filmmakers think of creative ways to dispose of people and spatter blood across the screen. This is a trend that is turning me off to action films. I'm not so "prudish" that I can't stand any killing or fighting, I think that physical conflict and force is something that occurs naturally in the world and, while I don't necessarily condone it, can appreciate the art of fighting and the apparent justice of "killing the bad guy." But to derive pleasure from torturing and killing people is a truly disturbing place, and I think that as time goes by we get closer and closer to that end.

Rating: -6

With adequate acting, action-packed (though somewhat recycled) fighting sequences and an intriguing plot, Wanted has a lot going for it. I can see how many people liked it. But everything else drags it way down. I didn't buy Gibson's character or motivations, and the gratuitous violence and pathetic message were terrible. Not just any action-packed bloodbath will do anymore, people. In my book, this junk is just plain NOT wanted.

∏

My fiancé is a conspiracy theorist.  While I laugh appreciatively and smile with a “you’re crazy” look on my face when she goes off on the occasional rant, there is a part of me that really gets going on the things she suggests.  I don’t let that part of myself have center stage that often, but it’s always interesting when I do.  The central idea that it believes in is that there is a hidden side to everything.  For every idea that presents one face to the world, it has twenty other faces that it hides.  It is also this part that likes the idea of numerology; the idea that everything can be broken down to numbers and the combinations thereof.

∏ (heretofore referred to as Pi for ease of typing) brought that part out like no movie I have ever seen.  When it was over, my mind was simply buzzing with possibilities and eventualities.  Pi didn’t just have a great numbers game in it, though.  It also presented some pretty wild ideas, and did things with character and story that many higher budget movies can’t pull off.

Pi’s central character is Max Cohen, a mathematical genius doing research on ∏ and its relation to complex systems, namely the stock market.  Also, Max has a mountain of mental problems.  When he was a kid, he stared too long at the sun, and he consequently gets very intense headaches from time to time.  He’s paranoid, anti-social, unfriendly, and emotionally unstable.  One day, when his personal supercomputer named Euclid spits out a couple of stock picks, it immediately crashes afterwards, but not before printing out a seemingly random array of 216 digits.  Frustrated and saddened, Max throws the printout away.

Max is approached by a pushy Jewish numerologist who is looking for some mathematical significance in the Torah, or the Old Testament.  He and his colleagues are convinced the Torah is some sort of mathematical code sent to them directly from God, and they want to understand its mysteries.  They think the 216-digit number that Euclid printed out is the key to the entire thing.  Also confronting Max is an equally pushy financial executive who wants to have Max’s findings on the stock market.  After bribing him with a military-grade processor for his computer, he tells them of the 216-digit number.  They irresponsibly apply it, though, and in the process bring about the country’s worst financial crisis in history.  Sound familiar?

This movie presents the idea of the interconnectedness of everything, and that was really what made me appreciate it as much as I did.  Another central idea of Pi was that some ideas are just too big for us, and that genius and madness look very similar to each other.  Max is wrestling with ideas that have a huge impact on our world, and they drive him crazy.  As the film progresses, he psychoses increase and increase, and he starts seeing some pretty disturbing stuff.   You as the viewer are not even sure what’s real and what’s not.  Director Darren Aronofsky takes a very personal and claustrophobic approach to the film, using close-ups and a rig where the camera is attached to the person its filming to keep the viewer in very close contact with the main character.  You can’t really get away.

What Pi has to say about the nature of genius and the advancement of ideas is startling and harrowing.  Can we as humans only get to a certain point, and then God drives the people who exceed it insane?  Or is God the one who presents the advancing ideas in the first place, always trying to push humans in a certain direction, taking into account our free will?  Max believes at one point that God has “chosen” him.  That could very well be legitimate, but it sounds a lot like a crazy person talking.  So is it divine appointment, or serious psychosis?  Or is it both?  Did Max get chosen by God, and that made him crazy?

This is a lot of meat for a 90 minute film, and a lot of other movies can’t cram nearly as much in.  Pi is not the flashiest picture, and has a pretty small budget.  The black and white filming on high-contrast reversal film brings a lot of dirt and grime to the experience, accentuating the feeling of alienation and psychosis, bring us into Max’s world a little.  It’s a little distracting, but it successfully brings on a feeling.  Unlike Aronofsky’s second film, Requiem For a Dream, I would potentially watch this again.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m very glad I saw Requiem.  The experience was just too traumatic.  Pi, however, is a fascinating film, and even manages to bring out the conspiracy theorist in me.  My fiancé would be proud.

Iconic Lines:

“Assumption: patterns are everywhere in nature.  Evidence: the cycling of disease epidemics; the wax and wane of caribou populations; sun spot cycles; the rise and fall of the Nile.”

“If you want to find the number 216 in the world, you’ll be able to find it everywhere.  216 footsteps from a near street corner to your front door.  216 seconds you spend riding on an elevator.  When your mind becomes obsessed with anything, you will filter everything else out to find that thing everywhere.”

“There will be no order; only chaos."

22 Rating: 13

Particle Man

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist

You’ve already seen this movie.  Trust me.  Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist has nothing new to offer, no new revelations to show, no mysteries to solve.  It won’t expand your mind or teach you anything about yourself.  But you know what?  I really liked it.

 The reason I say that you’ve already seen it is that it uses a lot of clichés and conventions, and the plot goes exactly where you expect it to go, with little to no deviation.  There’s the drunk friend, the indie soundtrack, the creepy older-guy quasi-boyfriend, the Holy Grail-like quest (this time it’s for an elusive show by an elusive band), and the climax that involves every character in the film.  If the movie were just the sum total of those parts, it would be boring, trite, and a little insulting.  But instead, it’s charming, sweet, and winning.

 Why?  This is almost completely due to the chemistry between the two leads.  Michael Cera plays Nick, a completely stereotypical emo kid: quiet, passionate, plays bass, drives an ugly car, and runs on low-octane emotions exclusively.  His girlfriend Tris (Alexis Dziena) dumped him a few months ago (on his “b-day”), and he’s been sending her mix CDs (he’s on #12) in an effort to win her back.  She’s just throwing them out without listening to them, laughing at what she presumably started dating him in the first place for.  Norah (Kat Dennings), a frienemy of Tris’s, is fishing them out of the trash and falling in love with him, despite the fact that she’s never seen him.  Nick is still hopelessly depressed over the breakup, but is convinced to come out for a gig with his band (and put on some pants) by a rumor of a secret show by his favorite indie band (the fictional Where’s Fluffy).

 Thus begins a night of hilarity and goofiness.  At Nick’s band’s gig, Tris attends with an anonymous guy in tow, as does Norah and her vodka-soaked friend Caroline (Ari Graynor).  In an act of desperation, Norah asks Nick (not knowing who he actually is, of course) to be her boyfriend for five minutes, just to prove to Tris that she came with someone.  When Tris sees that Nick has a new flame, her mindset instantly changes, and she sets out to get Nick back.  Add to that Nick’s band members (who are both gay), who volunteer to bring Caroline safely home while Nick and Norah hunt for Fluffy.  While tons of comedic mileage is provided by Caroline’s drunkenness, her alcohol consumption is eventually shown as pretty icky and disgusting.

 Nick and Norah have an instant connection, one that is undeniable.  This is a movie couple you really root for.  I wanted to see them end up together, and the movie really would have left a sour taste in my mouth if that hadn’t happened.  In this way, it’s very good that the movie was predictable.  But their relationship is not without complications, both internal and external.  Both of them are too easily offended, but also very willing to forgive.  Then there are their ex-es.  Tris is one, and Norah’s semi-ex is Tal (Jay Baruchel), who does a pretty good Matthew McConaughey impression.  He’s older, Jewish, conniving, and so creepy he makes Travis Bickle glance nervously at his shoes.  Norah and Tal have a “friends with bennys” thing going on, and Norah just goes to him when she needs to feel special, ignoring the fact that he’s just using her for her rich father’s connections and the fact that she can make restaurant bills evaporate.  The time comes when Nick and Norah must makes choices between their ex-es and each other.  You can guess how it goes.

 There are a lot of laugh-out-loud moments, some great music, and beautiful New York imagery, but the real thing that makes this movie worthwhile is the Cera and Dennings pairing.  These two simply sparkle.  They’re great in their own rights, but they really shine together.  Nick and Norah, as well as Cera and Dennings as actors, have more chemistry between them than all the Brads and Angies this world can muster.

 Credit also has to be given to director Peter Sollett, who is only on his second film.  Credits that ride on the coat-tails of Juno aside, he has a good if predictable grasp of the teenager road flick genre.  The movie takes place in New York City, and Sollett lovingly peppers the movie with shots of famous NYC landmarks in such a way that you know he’s proud of where he comes from.  He also shows a sweet sensitivity and emphasis on the beautiful and touching, showing them in the most subtle way.

 While Nick and Norah doesn’t cover any ground that movies like American Graffiti, Dazed and Confused, and Sixteen Candles didn’t, it updates the motif for a new generation, and tries to capture a modern moment the same way those films did.  It deals too much in stereotypes and is completely predictable, but the sterling performances by Michael Cera and Kat Dennings more than redeem it.  You’ve seen it already, but this is the sort of movie that bears repeating.

 Iconic Lines:

“Why would you buy these pants?”

“I love you so much it’s retarded!”

“I found Jesus!!!  He’s much taller in person…”

22 Rating: 10

Particle Man

Sex and The City

Sex and the City was a big hit when I was too young to understand the show, however after catching reruns after I got older I realized that it was a show I really liked. Naturally, I was excited that a good show was being made into a full length feature, as opposed to some of the crap we're handed these days. I had heard great things about the movie from people who had seen it before I did, which is basically anyone who saw it in theaters since I didn't catch it until it was on DVD, but now I sit here and wonder what happened.

The movie picks up five years from the series finale in which everyone gets their happy ending. Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) is finally with Mr. Big (Chris Noth), Charlotte (Kristin Davis) has gotten word that her and her husband Harry's adoption application for China was accepted and that they'll soon be the parents of a baby girl, Samantha (Kim Cattrall) who is the one of the group who hates monogamy has fallen in love and moved to L.A. with an actor, and Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) is living the married life with her husband and their son Brady. So when we get to the five years later part everything seems to be in place. Of course true to Sex and The City style, something has to go wrong and the conflict is mainly presented in the pending marriage of Carrie and Mr. Big.

As I said before I was excited when I heard this movie was coming out, but I have to say that this story was better off in half hour episodes than a feature length film. It is drawn out too long and becomes very stagnant. There are some humorous scenes but you know what is going to happen in the end so it feels like there is this pointless journey. The acting was alright and some of the clothes were nice to look at (which is part of what Sex and the City is all about). Jennifer Hudson has a supporting role as Carrie's assistant and adds a whiff of freshness as the newbie on the cast. I just think that this movie was good on paper and not so good in practice (kinda like Communism). If they wanna reunite the cast they should do it in the original form. Sadly, I have to give this movie a -10.

Religulous

The main idea of Religulous seems to be pretty well encapsulated in its title's portmanteau : Religion is ridiculous. But a film that seems like it might just be a lighthearted—if slightly mean—romp through a cascade of religious idiosyncrasies takes a left turn down a dark path in its final five minutes.

In a lot of ways, this isn’t so much a documentary about religion as it is about Bill Maher, or, rather, about Bill Maher’s views of religion. And, to Maher’s credit, he does not zero in exclusively on one religion. The film has him talking to (to name just a few) Christian truckers, Jewish scientists, a Muslim singer, and ex-Mormons. He takes shots at Scientology, at Ken Ham’s Creation Museum, and at the religion of Jose Luis De Jesus Miranda—a man with followers in about 35 countries who calls himself both the reincarnation of Jesus Christ and the Antichrist.

Of course, this scattershot approach means Maher really can’t go any more than ankle deep in any of these discussions. But that’s really his point: You don’t need to go beyond ankle deep. To Maher, religion is just that shallow.

This helps explain why he doesn’t spend more than a minute or so with genome researcher (and Christian) Francis Collins: It’s not as easy to make him look ridiculous (though Maher and director Larry Charles—who also directed Borat—do their best). Father George Coyne, former director of the Vatican Observatory and another proponent of the compatibility of science and religion, comes off significantly better; Maher’s purpose with Coyne is simply to undercut the creationist Ken Ham.

In the end, two things really bothered me about Religulous. The first was pretty predictable: The interviews were somewhat akin to bullying—just intellectual rather than physical. While Maher was certainly able to mine some comedic moments, my response as an audience member was caught in that uncomfortable place between wanting to laugh and wanting to shout “Hey! Pick on someone your own size!”

The other troublesome aspect was the film’s jarring—and somewhat unexpected—final moment. Bill Maher delivers a rousing monologue—intercut with images of suicide bombings and terrorist attacks—that essentially boils down to this: Religion has been used to violent ends in the past, and it will be again, only now we have nuclear weapons. He calls upon his allies—atheists, agnostics, even the religiously uncommitted—to come out of hiding, to break the polite code that we don’t talk about religion, and to challenge religious people’s beliefs.

Certainly, certainly, certainly, Maher means well. His intentions, by all means, seem completely pacifistic and idealistic. The problem is this: We’ve seen calls to convert the unconverted in this way before, and—even when they’re delivered by the most well-intentioned, non-violent messengers imaginable—they frequently do devolve into hatred, resentment, and violence against those not in the group with the “truth.” He’s not really speaking to religious believers in this film (as the R rating will ensure); he’s rallying his base.

In the end, one of the most prescient lines in the film comes from the unlikely source of Tal Bachman (the musician famous for his 1999 hit “She’s So High,” but interviewed by Maher because of his credentials as an ex-Mormon). Bachman, answering a question from Maher about why more people don’t leave Mormonism, explains that once you call into question the teachings of founder Joseph Smith, you’ve severed a bond with your family and friends.

Unfortunately, the moment passes with no follow-up comment. Which makes sense: There’s no reason for Maher to explore the idea of religion as a social adhesive. His goal in this film was to splash around in the puddles of religion, not to plunge into the ocean.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall

If you were in charge of marketing the film, you'd have no hesitation before deciding to advertise Forgetting Sarah Marshall as the latest from producer Judd Apatow. Which is why it's a bit ironic that this film would be better if we were somehow able to completely forget that Apatow's earlier films existed.

Sure, Forgetting Sarah Marshall was written by first-timer Jason Segel, but this film (along with Superbad, the recent Pineapple Express, and the upcoming Zack and Miri Make a Porno) is unmistakably part of the Apatow franchise. It centers around a positively Apatowian slacker-star; it features numerous references to cannabis; and, while it does cash in quite a bit on gross-out humor, it does so without checking its brain at the door.

Writer Jason Segel, recognizable as one of Seth Rogen's stoner friends in Knocked Up, also serves as the star of this film, a musican named Peter Bretter. The movie begins with Sarah Marshall (Kristen Bell), the star of a prime-time crime procedural drama called "CrimeScene: Scene of the Crime," breaking up with Peter, who does the music for the same show. Peter's pain is magnified by the fact that Marshall is now dating Aldous Snow (Russell Brand), a vaguely Liam Gallagher-esque British rocker. The pain is further compounded when Peter takes a Hawaiian vacation to ease his pain, and ends up at the same hotel that Sarah and Alduous are staying at.

The movie cashes in on the pathos of Peter's impossibly bad trip for awhile, until he starts falling for the hotel's hospitality director, Rachel (Mila Kunis). Then there's the excitement of new love, the confused and complicated mixture of feelings for lovers old and new, the inevitable misunderstanding, and, finally, the satisfying resolution.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall is helped quite a bit by the loving attention it devotes to its smaller roles, most notably the suddenly ubiquitous Jack McBrayer as a sexually confused honeymooner. It's also helped by the fact that it avoids making any character entirely into a villain. Sure, Sarah Marshall cheated on her boyfriend, but it's not like he was being an ideal boyfriend at the time. Sure, Aldous--as the new boyfriend--is kind of a tool. But he's also--as Peter admits--kind of cool.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall is hurt by the fact that it seems about 30 minutes longer than it needs to be. And by the fact that it's kind of, well, forgettable. But why is it forgettable? Well, that'll require us to glance back at the recent history of comedy.

When you do look back, there's actually a pretty predictable pattern with comedy franchises. There's the Discovery, the Crowning Achievement, and then the Gradual Decline. For example:

The Farrelly brothers announced themselves to the watching world with Dumb & Dumber, established themselves as a lucrative comedic force with There's Something About Mary, and then released a few more movies that ranged from decent to abysmal, none of which could come close to matching the success of Mary.

While Will Ferrell made his reputation on Saturday Night Live, he got "discovered" by the greater public by being the funniest thing in Zoolander. He was then given a vehicle that was distinctively his in Anchorman, and has yet to match the success of that vehicle.

Even a more highbrow comedic director like Wes Anderson fits this model: He announced himself with Rushmore, had his financial crowning achievement with The Royal Tenenbaums, and hasn't had any movie do as well since.

So it shouldn't come as any surprise that the Judd Apatow franchise is falling into the same pattern. He was "discovered" after 40-Year-Old Virgin, crowned after Knocked Up, and is now enjoying a very slow decline.

So what really hurts Forgetting Sarah Marshall is the same things that hurt all the other comedic franchises listed above. What makes any comedy sparkle is the element of freshness, of surprise -- the ability of a comedic mastermind to make you see something in a way that you've never seen it before. But the Faustian trade-off of the Crowning Achievement is that once you've been crowned, you're known. And your perspective--which was once fresh, unique, surprising--is now, well, mainstream.

That's not necessarily a death knell; comedic franchises can go on to have long and successful Gradual Declines (as Adam Sandler has proved). But it's nearly impossible to recreate the success and excitement that comes with the Crowning Achievement.

So for better or for worse, Forgetting Sarah Marshall is sort of what you'd expect. It offers that same Apatow sensibility that you already know, which is both its benefit and its curse. In the end, it's not an embarrassment, but neither is it a triumph. In short, it's about a 5.

Iconic lines:
"When life gives you lemons, just say 'F*ck the lemons,' and bail."
"You have Christ between your thighs... only with a shorter beard."
Aldous, in a music video, holds up a sign that reads "Sodomize Intolerance."