Based on the life of John Nash, the famed Nobel Laureate in Economics, Ron Howard’s 2001 film A Beautiful Mind is a biopic that runs a touch too long and plays a little too fast and loose with the facts to be effective. A leaner, less glossy approach would have made for better viewing, but Howard’s not exactly known for being subtle (Frost/Nixon being an exception, of course).
Russell Crowe stars as Nash and we are introduced to him as he arrives at Princeton University. He was promised a single room, but winds up with a roommate named Charles Herman (Paul Bettany) anyways. The two become fast friends, with Charles helping Nash out in some stressful situations and edging him into a social environment to help him with his personality. Nash comes off as somewhat abrasive and eccentric, but this fits just fine with the territory of a highfalutin university such as Princeton.
Nash also strikes up an awkward friendship or two, but he’s having trouble pulling together any serious work despite having a mind filled with brilliant ideas. His lack of focus threatens his future until he finally composes a breathtaking theory in mathematical economics and governing dynamics. Nash receives an appointment at MIT and winds up teaching a class. He meets student Alicia Larde (Jennifer Connelly) and the pair eventually strike up a relationship and marry.
As life continues, Nash is invited to a “secret” Department of Defense facility within the Pentagon to crack a secret code. He meets William Parcher (Ed Harris) and ends up being dispatched for what he sees as important missions for the United States government. The missions begin to take over his life and he becomes paranoid, only to have Alicia and his friends soon discover what the real story is.
A Beautiful Mind is based on Sylvia Nasar’s book of the same name, which is in turn of course based on the life of John Nash. The film’s narrative clearly differs from the real life account of Nash, as most biopics do, but there are some adjustments Howard and the screenwriters made that could have been better left untouched. Perhaps a smaller production would have brought out more of the controversial elements in Nash’s life and made for a more interesting, less romantic motion picture.
Nevertheless, Howard takes the “blockbuster” approach here and is saved by his great actors. Crowe is terrific, proving why he’s one of the best actors of his generation, and Connelly is a perfect accompaniment for him. She shares the screen well, her elegant beauty almost overwhelming and her character’s forwardness a sort of ideal foil for her counterpart’s natural shyness and eccentricity. This allows the film’s exploration of mental disorder to feel more legitimate, thankfully.
There are some interesting components to Nash’s life that could have used a look, including the actual chronology of his hallucinations and their nature. In reality, they were solely auditory. The device used by Howard to make them visual serves the purpose of a movie, of course, and allows for performers to step into the roles and captivate, but perhaps another approach could have made more out of the claustrophobia of hearing voices inside as opposed to seeing them manifest outside.
There is also the question of his relationship with Alicia. Nash, in real life, wound up divorced from Alicia in 1963 and the two worked hard to recommit and reconnect. His son, featured on the outskirts of the movie only slightly, was also a sufferer of schizophrenia. Nothing in this relationship is even faintly explored.
Overall, A Beautiful Mind still somewhat works as a beautiful testimony to the bravery of the human spirit and the power of relationships. It is fuelled largely by the great performances within, but Howard’s heavy-handed direction has sequences feeling a little too big and glossy for the subject matter. It’s too bad that the reality behind this biopic is so drastically different and, in effect, so much more interesting.
Without Anne Hathaway, The Princess Diaries is not worth seeing. There, I said it. Regular readers of this blog will know full well of my adoration for Hathaway, with her glowing charisma and dazzling looks proving simply hypnotic on the big screen. That she will be playing Judy Garland in an upcoming motion picture is no accident of casting. It is destiny.
2001’s The Princess Diaries, however, is formulaic Disney drivel. It is the screen adaptation of Meg Cabot’s 2000 novel of the same name, but the Disneyfied approach to the source material is confusing, muddled, and shockingly outdated. While there’s no question that most Disney projects are years behind the culture curve, The Princess Diaries proves to be outmoded before it even gets out of the gate. While Cabot’s novel offered depth and complexity, Disney’s Garry Marshall directed project fails on just about every front.
Hathaway stars as Mia Thermopolis. She’s an ugly, awkward, shy 15-year-old living in San Francisco. We know she’s a dork because she wears glasses and has bushy eyebrows, but it’s as hard to buy Hathaway as the social outcast as it is to buy Scarlett Johansson as the “ugly sister” in The Other Boleyn Girl. Mia lives with her mother (Caroline Goodall) and cat. The cat, for whatever reason, is given varying amounts of screen time by virtue of it being, well, a cat.
Mia’s life has all the trappings of the stereotypical awkward teenager. She is unpopular, of course, but has a couple of truly close friends in Lilly (Heather Matarazzo) and Lilly’s brother Michael (Robert Schwartzman). Incidentally, Michael has a crush on Mia. Mia is also teased by school bullies, with Lana (Mandy Moore) usually leading the charge.
One day everything changes for Mia when she learns that her grandmother (Julie Andrews) is coming to visit her for tea. Grandma is visiting from the fictional country of Genovia and she drops a bomb on Mia. It turns out that Mia’s recently deceased father was the crown prince of Genovia and that Mia is in line to be princess. Mia is taken aback, naturally, but her grandmother assures her that she’ll turn her into a princess in no time so that she can accept the tiara. Events follow that highlight Mia’s physical transformation into someone more “princess-like” and everything is wrapped up in true Disney fashion.
The Princess Diaries continues to perpetuate the awful Disney philosophy as pertains to looks. Mia must transform her appearance in order to become the princess, of course, and due to the transformation she becomes an entirely different person. Cabot’s novel, conversely, tells it a different way: Mia becomes more uneasy with herself after the makeover.
The way Mia’s character approaches her friends is perplexing. There is very little romantic connection between her and Michael, for instance, and it is hard to buy them as a reasonable “couple” once it pieces together in the end. Schwartzman has the charisma of a fly stuck in Jell-O. Lilly is transformed quite far from the context of the novel, too, and this creates some problems that could have been solved with a stricter editing hand on the film. Mia and Lilly have a few arguments, with one of them based around Mia’s sudden makeover. Lilly is very upset about this when she first sees it, but we aren’t quite sure why.
Those are but logical points, of course, and this is a Garry Marshall film. He’s the guy that glamorized prostitution in Pretty Woman, after all, so anything’s possible when you have the right look. The Princess Diaries could have been done well and provided a solid adaptation of Cabot’s book had it gone with a little more character complexity. Hathaway’s character is hard to follow, for instance, as she simply reacts differently to each situation. She is shy to the point of vomiting in school, but upon seeing her grandmother she becomes a clumsy, slightly obnoxious teenager complete with “shut up” catchphrase.
With a paint-by-numbers flick like this, however, it’s difficult to get hung up on the logistics. This is, after all, a cued, choreographed nightmare of Disney’s epic proportions. It’s hard to believe Disney is capable of producing truly groundbreaking cinema anymore, in point of fact, when 99% of their output seems dedicated to offerings like this and the shockingly superior Hannah Montana franchise. Disney, with a once-stellar record of storytelling and animation, used to be reliable. Now, if not for Pixar, it’s just a dead mouse.
In what will be remembered as the quintessential modern saga of our generation, The Lord of the Rings trilogy begins with 2001’s The Fellowship of the Ring. Peter Jackson’s enormous project sparkles with detail, depth, and grandeur. It is safe to say that the epic scope of the series has gone unmatched, with other movie series matching similar filming patterns. The Harry Potter series, which started in the same year as Fellowship with the release of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, would also help usher back the fantasy film to the big screen.
Jackson began storyboarding The Lord of the Rings in 1997, plotting the massive undertaking of making J.R.R. Tolkien’s incredible world into a reality. Locations like Isengard, Moria, and Lothlórien needed to be created. The various creatures of Middle Earth, such as elves and dwarves, would also need concept designs. The process, as you might imagine, was immense. The series was filmed in New Zealand, using computer effects to augment some of the gorgeous locations to give the film a more fantastical feel.
The Fellowship of the Ring starts it all off and it is absolutely dazzling. The introduction of Jackson’s interpretation of Middle Earth is no less than spellbinding, with the appearance of the characters from the books seeming larger than life. After a stylish and massive introduction outlining the Dark Lord Sauron forging the One Ring, Prince Isildur separating Sauron from the Ring, the Ring falling into obscurity, the creature Gollum getting hold of the Ring, Bilbo Baggins (Ian Holm) finding it, and the notion of Sauron’s power being bound to the ring, we’re underway.
Bilbo lives in The Shire and is on the doorstep of his 111th birthday. It’s a big celebration and he wants to see mountains again, so he plans to flee at the birthday party. Bilbo’s old friend Gandalf (Ian McKellen) arrives for the celebration and soon learns that Bilbo has passed the Ring on to his nephew Frodo (Elijah Wood) as part of his departure plan. Gandalf suspects something is off about the Ring and begins to research it, only to discover that it is indeed the One Ring and that Sauron’s power is bound to it. The only way to rid Middle Earth of Sauron’s power and to stop the process of evil advancing on the land is to destroy the One Ring. And of course, the only way to do that is to take it to the fires of Mount Doom.
Things are further complicated when it is discovered that the head of Gandalf’s order, Saruman (Christopher Lee), is actually serving Sauron and reveals that Nazgûl have been sent to grab the Ring from Frodo. There are also Orcs and all sorts of other evil creatures at Saruman’s disposal, helping him serve Sauron by bringing home the Ring. Frodo decides to do what he must and heads out with his best friend Sam (Sean Astin) to take the One Ring to Mount Doom. Two other Hobbits, Merry (Dominic Monaghan) and Pippin (Billy Boyd) go along as well.
The group needs help, of course, and Gandalf arranges for them to meet at Rivendell, the haven of the elves. There’s plenty of trouble along the way, of course, and it was a bloody good thing Strider (Viggo Mortenson) is around to help protect the Hobbits. A company is formed at Rivendell that includes the elf Legolas (Orlando Bloom), a man from Gondor (Sean Bean), and a dwarf named Gimli (John Rhys-Davies). The crew, dubbed the Fellowship, heads out to start the massive undertaking of getting the One Ring to the fires of Mount Doom.
I had the pleasure of watching the Extended Version of The Fellowship of the Ring, clocking in at around 208 minutes. The original cut, at around 178 minutes, doesn’t drag for a second. Jackson keeps things moving, directing beautifully with a combination of surprising close-up shots and sweeping panoramic shots. He covers the scale of the project with humility, granting the audience a hell of a picture thanks to his patience and poise behind the camera. Scenes unfold gracefully, without hurry, and the battle sequences are carefully choreographed and elegantly shot.
The creature design is flat-out impeccable. The orcs and other creatures fit seamlessly with the real backdrop of New Zealand and the character actors, making the combat scenes all the more breathtaking. The cave troll battle in Moria, for instance, stands out as one of the most jaw-dropping sequences to be created in recent memory. The characters interact, hop on top of the creature, and take it down all without ever looking out of the cut or out of the scene. Jackson never takes the easy way out, either, shooting the sequence at breakneck speed with realistic movements.
The Fellowship of the Ring is visually stunning, of course, and matchless in scale. That alone makes it a marvellous achievement, but Jackson’s people have actually been able to do Tolkien’s story justice as well. By dividing it up into a trilogy and allowing the stories and characters to exist realistically and breathe is quite the achievement. With an overall budget of $280 million and a project time of 8 years with all three films shot simultaneously, it is safe to say that this may be the most impressive saga ever made. If, for whatever reason, you haven’t experienced the glory of Jackson’s Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring should be first up on your to-see list.
Okay, time for honesty: I have no idea what to make of Baz Luhrmann. The Australian director isn’t exactly prolific, having made only four films since starting with 1992’s Strictly Ballroom. Three of those films make up the so-called “Red Curtain Trilogy” (Strictly Ballroom, Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge!). Luhrmann also directed the 2008 epic Australia. He has a tendency, at least in the Red Curtain Trilogy, to utilize modernity within different contexts to produce a dizzying spectacle of a picture. 2001’s Moulin Rouge! is perhaps the best indicator of what this interesting director can do.
Moulin Rouge! is based on Giuseppe Verdi’s La traviata. The three act opera is based on a novel by Alexandre Dumas from 1848 and describes an unlikely relationship between a courtesan and a young nobleman. Luhrmann’s adaptation keeps the same framework but alters the roles of some of the characters to create a greater sense of social class differences and character.
We open in 1899 and are introduced to a young writer named Christian (Ewan McGregor). He is trying to immerse himself in the artisan community and joins a musical troupe led by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (John Leguizamo). The troupe is trying to write a production for Harold Zidler (Jim Broadbent) and his Moulin Rouge cabaret. Christian helps the troupe write the show and they head to the Moulin Rouge to present the finished product to Zidler.
While in the Moulin Rouge, Christian discovers the star courtesan Satine (Nicole Kidman) and is instantly smitten with her despite all of the yelping she does. She is to spend the night with the wealthy Duke (Richard Roxburgh). The Duke wants to purchase the Moulin Rouge and everything in it. In a bit of confusion, Satine ends up in a room in a giant elephant with Christian instead of the Duke and the two rapidly develop affection for one another. But the error leads to complications, including that of the Duke’s desire to own Satine and her ailing health, and the story veers inexorably towards tragedy.
Luhrmann has said that his Moulin Rouge! was largely inspired by Bollywood pictures and the grand pageantry involved. The jumbled approach to the music, the use of flashy colours and dizzying noise, and the spectacle piled on top of spectacle attracted the director and he decided to infuse his own film with those elements. As such, Moulin Rouge! is an appallingly confused, kitschy, flamboyant, ear-splitting, big-headed picture. It is both endlessly gruelling and endlessly fascinating.
Luhrmann’s desire to have the film relate to modern audiences is mutually mesmerizing and maddening. To accomplish this, he utilized modern music and spliced it together. It took Luhrmann almost two years to secure the rights to all of the songs he abuses, making a finished product that conceitedly and brazenly uses bits of Nirvana alongside bits of Madonna and Elton John for a multifarious stew of exasperation and culture.
The performances are alright at times, really quite good at other times, and really quite bad at other times (spot a trend here, yet?). McGregor, Kidman, and the rest do an admirable job conducting themselves in the middle of the madness. They sing well enough, straining through some songs and elegantly delving into others passionately. The chemistry between Kidman and McGregor is shaky and not overly convincing, and yet there is something magical about that uncertainty that drives the picture.
Moulin Rouge! is a film for lunatics. It is dizzyingly shot with every music video trick in the book and it often overdoes it with camera tricks, yelps and squeaks, and musical blunders. As I continue to think about the picture, I continue to wonder whether I liked it or not. And at this point, the only real safe answer is to say that I’m really not quite sure. Perhaps no other film in recent memory has polarized me internally like this and, for the sake of Luhrmann’s ugly but fascinating Moulin Rouge!, that has to be worth…something?
Satoshi Kon is a truly exceptional talent. His films focus on uniquely human themes, yet often blur the line between fantasy and reality. Kon’s movies have a psychological complexity to them and are intelligent visions of human nature. With Millennium Actress, Satoshi Kon is at his very best. His career only spans four films thus far, but his talents are unquestionable and he stands apart as a true giant in Japanese animation. Kon’s writing is tender and detailed, as he constructs characters that audiences can relate to and places them in situations of extraordinary depth.
Millennium Actress tells a complex story of love, devotion, and the purposes one finds in life. The tale begins with documentary filmmaker Genya Tachibana and his cameraman heading to visit the great Japanese actress Chiyoko Fujiwara. Chiyoko has become a recluse since leaving the film industry 30 years ago. Securing the interview was difficult, but Genya has something special for Chiyoko that she will be most interested in: a key left to her by a lost love. As Genya and his cameraman begin the interview, Chiyoko reminiscences about her life and about her pursuit of love and devotion over the course of several years.
The narrative style takes us through history as we follow Chiyoko through her early years before she became an actress to her final days as she comes to terms with the life she experienced. Kon’s piece weaves the story through portions of Chiyoko’s films and her re-telling of her experiences, often combining reality with the storylines from the movies. Genya and his cameraman tag along through it all, capturing an overview of history through the imaginative storytelling of Chiyoko.
Kon’s film depicts a fair history of Japan, taking us from the Warring States during Japan’s medieval era to the Meiji period during the late 19th century to the post-war period and the Occupation. The “real” portions of the film are interspersed with visions from the films of Chiyoko, making the journey constantly compelling. The imagination of Kon through his visions of these various time periods makes Millennium Actress a truly epic movie.
Unto itself, Kon’s screenplay would have been stunning enough. With the storytelling techniques he employs, however, Millennium Actress becomes absolutely incredible. The actress’s films serve as backdrops for her journey through life to find her lost love, making for some gripping philosophical moments as the actor becomes the characters through various stages of time. Kon chooses to make the Genya and his cameraman part of the memories, too, which adds an extra personal element to the characterizations and helps tie more emotion into the already strong story.
The animation of the film is slick and moving. It is beautifully colourful and some of the scenes are simply immense. Some critics have claimed that the animation is simplistic and less beautiful than a Miyazaki or similar filmmakers’ work. While it’s incredibly difficult to emulate or even come close to producing something along the lines of Miyazaki, Kon’s piece, animated by the legendary Studio Madhouse, is as pure an anime as I’ve seen in quite a long time. The colours flush in and out of the scenes, the segues are tremendous, and the backdrops are absolutely stunning pieces to look at on their own. I found myself pausing the film quite a few times to gather the scope of it all.
Millennium Actress is a wonderful introduction to anime for those viewers that may not be comfortable with some of the more bizarre elements of the genre. It is a tender love story with depth, instantly relatable to anyone that has ever chased a dream. We accompany Chiyoko on her journey and celebrate her idea that the journey itself is incredible. Our heart breaks for her, time and again, and we long for her happiness as we trace the lines of her life. Chiyoko is not merely a two-dimensional cartoon character. She exhibits more life, more emotion, and more poise than several current “real” Hollywood actresses and we feel the depth of her moving journey on a deeply personal level. Kon’s film succeeds because it realizes the desire of the audience for connection and purpose, even in film.
Along with the deeply personal level on which Millennium Actress functions, Kon’s movie passionately gives us a shorthand vision of history through the eyes of Chiyoko. The backdrops, the scenes, and the characters reveal a rich tapestry of history and elegantly place importance on the smaller, subtle moments of Chiyoko’s life. Her career as an actress highlights her life, accenting her personal quest with the gloss of cinema.
As a quality introduction to anime and a wonderful film, Millennium Actress is a highly recommended work of art from one of my favourite anime filmmakers, Satoshi Kon. Along with Tokyo Godfathers, Kon has proven his ability to create uniquely human tales in a genre that often feels inhabited by science fiction stories and unbelievable ideas. Millennium Actress is the perfect starting point for those interested in opening up to the engaging genre of anime.
Renee Zellweger stars in 2001’s British romantic comedy Bridget Jones’s Diary. The film was based on Helen Fielding’s 1996 novel of the same name, which was partially based on Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Bridget Jones’s Diary faced a lot of controversy before it came out from those living in the backwoods, mainly over the fact that Zellweger would be playing a “quintessentially British heroine” because, as we all know, an American can’t play a Brit. Luckily for Zellweger and for us, she pulls it off with flying colours and the Brits went home happy that their country’s favourite new heroine wasn’t butchered by some American wannabe.
Zellweger, who was nominated for an Academy Award for her work in this film, plays Bridget Jones, a frustrated thirty-something British woman. She works at a book publishing company in London and fantasizes about her boss, Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant) frequently. One day, Jones begins a full-on flirting mission and starts wearing short skirts to work. This works like a charm and, before she knows it, she and her boss are in a sexual relationship. Meanwhile, Bridget’s mother (Gemma Jones) is trying to set her up with Mr. Right. Mr. Right, in terms of Bridget’s mom’s ideas anyway, turns out to be Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice, anyone?), played here by Colin Firth (BBC’s Pride and Prejudice, anyone?). Of course, Mr. Darcy isn’t all that nice and he dislikes Bridget Jones when he first happens upon her, so that’s off for the moment.
Bridget continues to “see” her boss until, one fateful day, her boss’s dubious character comes to light and she realizes what a jerk he is. She breaks off the relationship and gets to know Mr. Darcy, whom she discovers is actually a very nice man and doesn’t dislike her at all. The relationship between the pair blossoms and, eventually, they begin to become interested in one another. Of course, as with all romantic comedies, more complications are needed and Daniel Cleaver makes a return appearance in Bridget’s life to add more complications. Throughout this time, Bridget has been noting her thoughts on these events in her diary.
The reason Bridget Jones’s Diary works is because of Zellweger. She brings Bridget Jones to life in a classic way, creating a genuine film heroine that women can believe in (I would imagine) without being patronizing or over-the-top. Jones finds herself in all sorts of silly situations that are very relatable, including one funny scene in which she is costumed at a costume party under the theme of “Tarts and Vicars” that is, sadly for Bridget, no longer a costume party. Zellweger’s wit and self-awareness are in overdrive here, as her performance was truly worth the Oscar nomination.
The film would certainly have been significantly diminished had Zellweger not worked out as Bridget Jones. Serving as the clumsy anchor to the film is not an easy task, but she pulls it off. Zellweger packed on about 20 pounds, which is enormous in “Hollywood weight” of course (ask Tyra Banks), and developed a little wannabe double-chin for the role. She even pulled out an accent that most major British publications found to be immensely workable. I’ve never read about anyone critiquing someone’s American or Canadian accent, eh? Nevertheless, with such a mountain to climb, it is impressive to note that Zellweger knocked the ball out of the park.
The supporters are also good, with Grant and Firth serving as combatants for Jones in such a classic film fashion that they almost duel for her affections. In an over-the-top fight sequence, they actually do. Grant is especially good here, as he’s always good as a cad. We’re supposed to dislike him and like him all at once, creating a sort of weird energy in which we may just cheer for the villain. Firth offsets him beautifully, too, creating a sort of off-putting balance that leads to many comic moments between the characters, such as the reindeer jumper worn by Firth’s character or the equally droll Christmas tie.
Bridget Jones’s Diary is a funny film about transition that strings together a number of comic moments and, generally, is increasingly charming as the film goes on. Lacking in cheese, pomp, and circumstance, Bridget Jones’s Diary is a humble entry in the romantic comedy genre that gathers most of its speed, energy, and skill from Zellweger and Grant. The chemistry between all of the characters is notable, as is the witty script from Richard Curtis, Andrew Davies, and Fielding. Bridget Jones’s Diary comes recommended for lovers of quick-witted, funny, and charming British romance.
Neil Slavin’s only film as director is 2001’s Focus, a film based on the Arthur Miller novel of the same name. Slavin brought Kendrew Lascelles, who went on to write 2004’s The Aryan Couple, on board to help turn the Miller novel into a screenplay. The film covers elements of 1944 Brooklyn during a time in which anti-Semitism ran deep on the streets, despite the Nazi threat looming a world away in World War II. People everywhere appear to be afraid of some sort of Jewish threat and the paranoia runs high throughout the neighbourhood. Into this equation comes our protagonist, Lawrence Newman (William H. Macy).
Newman is a quiet man that tends to blend seamlessly in with his surroundings, often unnoticed. All that changes one day, however, when Newman gets a new pair of glasses that we’re told make him look “Jewish.” This very strange critique suddenly blossoms to deplorable heights, as Newman’s life is turned upside down by the glaring eyes and haunting moments directed at him and his newfound “Jewish” look. Newman associates frequently with a store owner on his street corner, Finklestein (David Paymer), who is Jewish in reality and not just in bespectacled mistaken identity. Their bond, which is tentative and awkward at first, strengthens as both men get acquainted with the idea of prejudice and the fears associated with the hollow minds of angry white men.
To add to the facade of Jewishness, Newman eventually marries Gertrude (Laura Dern). We are told through the eyes of the prejudiced that Gertrude appears “Jewish” as well. This seemingly obvious stroke of illusionary logic affects everyone on Newman’s block in Brooklyn, especially his neighbour Fred (Meat Loaf Aday). As events begin to spiral out of control and Newman’s garbage can is tossed over each night, Newman must come face to face with the prejudice he feels as a result of mistaken identity. He somewhat learns a lesson towards the end of the film, but his attitude is reminiscent of the ideology of those who choose to do “nothing” in the face of fear and prejudice until it affects them directly.
The critical problem I had with Focus was the script. It seemed almost laughable at times, caught up in its own attempts to capture Arthur Miller’s relentless solemnity. As the events spin out of control and Newman’s reactions to these events become bookishly angry, there are some bizarre lines tossed around by Lascelles’ script that don’t seem to bounce properly. Instead, when Macy’s Newman blurts out, suddenly, “But we’re not Jewish,” I half expected him to follow it up by saying “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!”
Silly script aside, the search for meaning and poignancy within Focus turned up little, if anything. While some scenes involving William H. Macy turned out well (it’s hard for him to be completely disappointing), the overall story arc contained very little of the punch or vitriol it so desperately needed to be powerful as a film. Instead, much of Focus falls flat under swirling narratives involving a variety of characters that are interloped because of “prejudice.” This turns a once-subtle film into a blisteringly obvious and oblivious bore of a film that can easily and gently be filed under other sorts of “indie darling” pictures that seem to garner more praise than they’re actually worth.
One thing the film toyed with nicely was the ideology of xenophobia that can run any country into the ground. The preacher’s ranting and railing against “internationalism” is a dangerously compelling segment to the film, as the nationalists rally around him and gather up their white heat to take it to the streets and “reclaim their country” from the “internationalists.” This revelatory segment of the film started to rouse me somewhat as I began to capture some semblance of a vision, but it was quickly averted when, once again, the plot was distinctively narrowed down and the potential was once again left simmering on the proverbial stove. The message in the film, when it arrived, was hammered down with a piece of filmmaking so obvious and tacit that it was hard to watch without snickering.
In the case of Focus, it’s really a matter of too little impact within a decently constructed framework. The direction is capable enough and some of the performances are passable, although I struggled with Laura Dern as Gertrude extensively and the romantic scenes seemed strange and awkward (not in the intended way, either). The chemistry between characters appeared forced and tepid and any explosiveness of logic or firewater within Focus seemed utterly wasted by an overly subdued protagonist with too little to do at a juncture far beyond the point of interest.
Not Another Teen Movie is another film in the endless parody genre of films that lampoons other genre films. I wonder if it’s possible to have a film entitled “Not Another Parody Movie” and have it actually make any sense. Doubtful. Moving along, Not Another Teen Movie, like Scary Movie, Date Movie, Epic Movie, and all the other movies with “Movie” in the title, is heavily reliant on sight gags and parody to make its point and get the big laughs. The good news about Not Another Teen Movie is that it does get some laughs and it isn’t all that awful. The bad news is that it’s pretty much the same stuff as the other parody genre films and isn’t really all that tremendous.
I like parody films. I’m a huge fan of the Naked Gun series, the Hot Shots! films were always funny, and Airplane! is a classic in every sense of the word. I even enjoyed Scary Movie 4 quite a bit, although admittedly mostly because of Leslie Nielsen. The best part about films like these is that it invokes laughter as a popular Hollywood icon. The stories and the performances are inevitably pointless to discuss because, let’s face it, they don’t matter with a film like this. All that matters is the gags and the effectiveness of those gags. So to review a film like Not Another Teen Movie really requires a whole new strategy. For what it’s worth, I have no such strategy so I’ll basically discuss the film on its own merits and see what happens.
Not Another Teen Movie was, for the most part, panned by the critics. That’s not particularly surprising, as most critics despise comedy and few critics actually have the biological capability to laugh, let alone laugh out loud. Luckily, I have that ability and luckily I’m not an uptight ninny. I did laugh, out loud, many times during Not Another Teen Movie. In that respect, it was an effective use of my time. That’s pretty much the goal of director Joel Gallen here. If the film didn’t result in laughter, it would have been considered a major failure and I would likely be planting it right now instead of semi-lauding it for accomplishing its goal. Gallen directs this film, sort of, by aiming his camera at the stuff that’s happening and lets that very camera pick up and relay that stuff to the audience. In other words, anybody could have directed this. It doesn’t matter who.
Not Another Teen Movie mines the other teen movies pretty deep, but the majority of the idea is based around She’s All That, a terrible teen movie that seems to have garnered enough attention around the set. I haven’t seen She’s All That, but take my word for it, it’s terrible. The jokes in Not Another Teen Movie are largely at the expense of the idea that the girl in She’s All That, the alleged ugly duckling, is nothing more than a hottie with glasses and a ponytail. The scene in which the guys are picking a “project girl” is downright hilarious, with the sending up of the notion of “good looks” in teen films. As they pass over the Albino and the other managerie of ugliness for Janey (Chyler Leigh), it’s funny. Very funny.
The film has a few revolving plots designed to capture and parody events in films such as She’s All That, Varsity Blues, Pretty in Pink, The Breakfast Club, 10 Things I Hate About You, Sixteen Candles, Better Off Dead, Bring It On, Heathers, Jawbreaker, Cruel Intentions, American Pie, American Beauty, Can’t Hardly Wait, and other films. Along with the general cast of the film, including Leigh and Chris Evans, the film also has a host of cameos that should please any fan of most teen movies. The cameos include Molly Ringwald, Mr. T, Kyle Cease, Lyman Ward, Paul Gleason, and Sean Patrick Thomas among others. These cameos add a richness to the parody and give the film some much-needed credibility.
Look, the bottom line here is that there’s no point dissecting or analyzing Not Another Teen Movie. You’re either going to find it hilarious or you’re going to find it stupid. I found it to be both of those things and, considering that was the intention of the film in the first place, that’s good enough for me.
Heartbreakers is one of those guilty pleasures of mine that really isn’t that good of a movie at all, but is made instantly watchable because my girlfriend, Jennifer Love Hewitt, is in it in various stages of cleavage-revealing gear. Hewitt, now the star of television’s Ghost Whisperer has been my stand-by hottie since Party of Five. Heartbreakers serves to expose her assets to a considerable degree and, sadly for Jenny Love, acting is not one of those ample assets.
Oh, right! Sigourney Weaver, Gene Hackman, Jason Lee, and Ray Liotta are also in this 2001 disaster of a “romantic comedy.” The film was originally alleged to star Cher and Jennifer Aniston as the mother-daughter con-artist team, but Heartbreakers spent so much time in the pre-development stages that both actresses bowed out due to scheduling conflicts. In 1999, it was “announced” that Angelica Huston and Cameron Diaz would star. The director, however, backed out of the project and the film took more time on the shelf, causing Diaz and Huston to move on as well. When director David Mirkin (Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion) stepped on board, Hewitt and Weaver signed on in the roles and Heartbreakers finally made its way to production, for better or worse.
The film is essentially a take on Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. Weaver and Hewitt star as Max and Page Conners, a mother and daughter who con men out of money via expensive divorce settlements. The film opens as Max and Page put the finishing touches on a con involving Dean (Liotta), using Page as the bait to seduce Dean so that Max “catches” Dean cheating on her. Kind of disturbing, when you think about it. But, I digress. After the scam on Dean, Page insists that she move out on her own and get away from her mother. Max insists on one last scheme, however, and they elect to roll a chronic smoker named William B. Tensy (Hackman). Along the way, Page falls in love with a young bar owner named Jack (Lee) despite initially getting involved with him for the money. Long story short, the cons fall apart with an attempt at comedy and, alas, Page gets her dummy of a dream guy.
The film can be recommended solely on the basis of being able to see Hewitt and Weaver in dresses that are pretty impressive. It’s probably the most revealing Hewitt has ever been and fans will get to see her act against type, cursing and stomping around like a spoiled brat. Unfortunately, and this could be my incredible bias shining through, Hewitt doesn’t really fit the role all that well. She has no real edge to her and, despite putting a whole lot of effort into it, just doesn’t quite slide into the role with any natural aptitude. Instead, she forces the issue of her “meanness” and, while she doesn’t have to push the issue of her sexiness in the role by having a body that would make a bishop kick out a stained-glass window, she did lack believability as a con artist.
Weaver, on the other hand, is a nice natural fit in her role as Max. The only problem is that the script really gives her very little to work with and it isn’t that smart or witty. Weaver has good comic timing and even pulls off a funny Russian accent, but the setups she’s given are dumb and bland. So while Weaver has a more natural acting propensity than Hewitt, she isn’t given an awful lot to do. At least when Gene Hackman’s character arrives, there are some funny setups.
All in all, Heartbreakers is a pretty bland comedy with some nice moments and some good looking scenery. The performers all try really hard, especially Hackman in a W.C. Fields-inspired role, but there’s not a lot here to work with and the majority of the film falls flat.
This review is based on the original Donnie Darko film and not the director’s cut version, for the record. With that in mind, here goes. The website for the director’s cut of the film warns me to “Pay close attention. You could miss something.” Well, like Roger Ebert, I must have missed something. By the sounds of things, from the hundreds of websites cropping up all over the internet trying to explain this piece of existential fluff, there’s an awful lot of variance in terms of what exactly could be “missed” when it comes to Richard Kelly’s debut film, Donnie Darko. In that respect, I’ll try to keep this as concise as possible and try to avoid racing off on any philosophical questions or any sort of “this is what happened” diatribe. Instead, let’s look at the actual film.
Donnie Darko is from 2001, is Richard Kelly’s directorial debut, and stars Jake Gyllenhaal as the title character. For the record, the film is also ranked at #113 on the IMDB’s Top 250 Films as voted by the users. It’s right above Akira Kurosawa’s Ran, Stuart Rosenberg’s Cool Hand Luke, and just below Superbad. Richard Kelly had previously directed a pair of short films in the late 90s before settling in on writing and directing Donnie Darko. Kelly also wrote the script for Tony Scott’s Domino.
As mentioned, Jake Gyllenhaal stars in the film as the title character. Donnie is a troubled kid who apparently sleepwalks and is in therapy. He discusses many of his deepest thoughts with his therapist (Katharine Ross). One day, a jet engine from a commercial plane falls into Donnie’s bedroom. Donnie avoids death by obeying a voice in his head, which is represented by “Frank”. Frank is an apparently imaginary friend in a rabbit suit, with a strange mask, that starts to tell Donnie to do different things and tells him that the end of the world is approaching in just over 28 days. Frank tells Donnie to do a series of different tasks that will help bring about this end of the world, including flooding the school and setting a motivational speaker’s (Patrick Swayze) house on fire. As a result of these seemingly destructive incidents, something good or revelatory actually happens – the motivational speaker’s house fire reveals a den of kiddie porn and, during the day of school missed a result of the flood, Donnie meets Gretchen (Jena Malone).
Donnie also takes an interest in time travel to perhaps stave off the end of the world, leading to conversations with his science teacher (Noah Wyle) and the exploration of a book that director Kelly wrote to try to explain Donnie Darko (in the movie, it’s obviously not a book with the same premise, although it might have been helpful) entitled “The Philosophy of Time Travel.” Donnie uses the book and the various principles in it, written by an aged town resident known as “Grandma Death”, to try and sort out time travel and figure out how he can travel through time to change some events…..or something. Donnie starts seeing ripples in space-time and starts seeing strange things. Eventually, one thing leads to another and Donnie makes his way back in time to the point of the original jet engine incident and, this time, elects to stay in bed to gleefully die. Okay.
Donnie Darko is somewhat of a cult film and was greeted with an original ho-hum at the box office, laying down only about $500,000 in original profits and opening and closing within a relative space-time hiccup. It did do well at Sundance and a bunch of critics liked the layering of the story enough to recommend it. When the film hit DVD, it started to pick up steam and gathered a crowd of admirers which eventually prompted the release of a director’s cut version and a re-release in theatres.
Jake Gyllenhaal is great in this, no question about it. His performance is very good and he is a nice fit with Jena Malone, as their relationship is very believable within the context of having two rather troubled characters finding some form of unity. The notion of Gretchen become such an integral part of the finish, though, had be mildly perplexed in that I didn’t believe she had such a philosophical pull on Donnie’s character. I bought their relationship within the context of a sort of teen-angst respite, nothing more. That isn’t the fault of Malone or Gyllenhaal, of course, but rather the fault of an oft-fuzzy script and storyline which, as evidenced by the numerous “I don’t get it, but I think I do” commentaries and websites out there, seems to be the goal of Kelly’s work. Fair enough, but when that interferes in my enjoyment of the film rather than enhance it, I get turned off to the project rather quickly.
The film crams in some characters that seem to have more weight on the context of the story than they actually do, like Ms. Pomeroy (Drew Barrymore), Donnie’s teacher, or Kitty Farmer (Beth Grant), Donnie’s intrusive and odd health teacher. The characters also include the normal variety of students, from bullies to nerds to everyone in between, and the parents of Donnie. The gang’s all here, ready for a John Hughes style showdown, complete with 80s music and parent-teen relationship angst. Throw in the bunny and some loose philosophical problems, you’ve got Donnie Darko to a tee.
There are other films that leave us with questions or with “WTF” looks on our faces. I am, for example, a big fan of David Lynch. His films quite often give us a picture of a woman riding a horse naked eating a tub of peanut butter with her bare hands, but somehow that visual seems to generate some normative clarity and actually builds towards something important. Lynch is eerily cohesive in setting up his narratives. Kelly’s Donnie Darko, on the other hand, is so game to roll the wheel of plot devices and “mood” ideas that eventually the rich characters and good acting gets lost in the hypothetical plot shuffle. The film is like Lynch for the teenage set, except with more masturbatory cinematography. It’s almost as if Kelly had a few hundred plot ideas for how his nutty existential bunny story would work out and, without knowing which ending was which, tossed them all up in the air and filmed the process. Some people will claim to have Donnie Darko all figured out, which is great. But even Kelly claims, sometimes, to have no idea what it’s about. Other times, however, he claims to have a fairly good idea:
“At midnight on October 2, a Tangent Universe branches off the Primary Universe around the time when Donnie is called out of his bedroom by Frank, immediately before the appearance of the Artifact, which is the faulty jet engine. The unstable Tangent Universe will collapse in just over 28 days and take the Primary Universe with it if not corrected. Closing the Tangent Universe is the duty of the Living Receiver, Donnie, who wields certain supernatural powers to help him in the task. Those who have died/will die within the Tangent Universe (and would not have died otherwise) are the Manipulated Dead (Frank and Gretchen Ross). Manipulated Dead Frank, at least, is also given certain powers in that he is able to subtly understand what is happening and have the ability to contact and influence the Living Receiver via the Fourth Dimensional Construct (water). All others within the orbit of the Living Receiver are the Manipulated Living (e.g. Ms. Pomeroy, Dr. Monnitoff), subconsciously drawn to push him towards his destiny to close the Tangent Universe and, according to The Philosophy of Time Travel, die by the Artifact. There are two “Franks” in the story: the living boyfriend of Donnie’s sister Elizabeth, and the Manipulated Dead Frank who appears to Donnie as a premonition from the future in the disturbing rabbit suit (the second Frank is dead, or undead; at the end of the film he is killed by Donnie). Dead Frank is aware of Donnie’s fate and destiny.”
That’s a bit of an amalgamation of Kelly’s summarization of Donnie Darko as pulled from interviews and his DVD commentaries. Gotcha. I guess the idea here is to check logical ideas at the door. It is a film, after all, and not all films play by rules. In fact, it’s usually better when they don’t. I’ve seen my share of formulaic films with straightforward plots that bore me silly and I’ve seen my share of unpredictable masterpieces. I’ve also seen my fair share of films that, in their infinite ability to twist their own plot at will, lose my interest altogether because of a lack of cohesive parts. I’m not saying I didn’t like Donnie Darko because it was too confusing, I’m saying I didn’t like it because it quite often bored me and toyed with the idea of presenting these earth-shattering ideologies without actually comprehending the ideas. In other words, it’s like watching teenagers discuss existential philosophy and “wowing” one another simply because they’ve created a philosophy that nobody else can figure out.
Add to that equation a pile of characters with no real purpose that are treated like they should have one and you have a mess that simply doesn’t add up in any satisfying way. Donnie Darko may well be one of the most overrated films I’ve ever seen and it is quite likely that I’ll have a few people telling me that I didn’t “get it.” Fine, great. Kelly’s failing in the film is evidenced in the notion that I simply couldn’t care less if I “got it” or not. When the website of the film is better than the film, there’s a problem. Gyllenhaal aside, there’s not a lot to this crowded attempt at a philosophical fairy tale.
