French celluloid sorcerer Michel Gondry delivers his most playful, accessible and subtextually sparkling slice of bespoke whimsy to date in the follow-up to his stifling 2005 quirk mire, ‘The Science of Sleep’.
This time, he accompanies us on the Capra-esque journey of highly-strung VHS rental shop clerk, Mike (Mos Def) and his skittish, mildly unhinged mechanic buddy Jerry (Jack Black) as they are forced – via myriad helter-skelter plot machinations – to locate the journeyman director deep inside them and remake all the films in the store when they are inadvertently erased. In doing so, they manage to convert the present-day dead-end town of Passaic, New Jersey into a teeming, ramshackle film lot where customised (or ‘Sweded’) versions of ’80s popcorn classics such as ‘Ghostbusters’ and ‘Driving Miss Daisy’ are rolled out at a dizzying rate and perform a roaring trade.
On paper, it sounds eccentric, but this is all part of Gondry’s vision. He presents us with a film whose simple structure could have tripped from the tongue of any vacuous pony-tailed studio exec (a community coming together to save a dilapidated video shop? It could only have come from the ’80s!).But Gondry uses this premise to flip open the ribcage of cinema and allow us to peruse its blood, bones and sinew, and really see how they flow, fit and flex into a glorious whole.
The magnitude of Gondry’s visual ingenuity is consistently jaw-dropping: with the aid of some washing machine innards and a white jump suit, he manages to reduce the iconic rotating space station scene from ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ to a kind of cinematic primordial ooze, at once presenting the infinite potential of the camera to create, subvert and renew reality while also screaming, ‘Yes, you can do this too!’
Because this is a film in thrall to the fact that we have camera phones, YouTube and iMovie at our fingertips, and that there are people who go out there and make movies – just for the hell of it. But the joyful process of filmmaking is not its sole concern: there’s also a fondness for archaic technology (you could even read it as a clarion call to a generation weened on in-built obsolescence) to the point that CGI is rejected in favour of in-camera effects which lend the film a ragged visual energy comparable to the ’80s classics to which it pays homage.
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In the end, though, it’s this total respect for its ironic source material which has enabled Gondry to achieve his greatest coup. In a postmodern rendering of the archetypal ’80s schmaltz finale, the director picks at our heartstrings like a cigar-box banjo, assembling the entire town together to watch Mike and Jerry’s fictitious biopic of local jazz legend Fats Waller in what must be one of the most nakedly romantic salutes to the restorative power of cinema since the ‘montage of kisses’ scene from ‘Cinema Paradiso’. It’s an awesomely simple and powerful moment, echoed by an earlier declamation from Mia Farrow’s doddery Mrs Falewicz as she enjoys one of Mike and Jerry’s remakes: ‘A toast to movies with heart and soul!’ Hear hear!
“Proved to be a box office success
but a critical disappointment despite its powerful cast of Western favorites
and old-timers.”
Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz
Proved to be a box office success but a critical disappointment despite
its powerful cast of Western favorites and old-timers, as the plot remained
thin. It was based on one of the 1934 novels by William Colt MacDonald
about “The Three Mesquiteers.” He basically subbed the Dumas characters
for the Western setting. This was the second Mesquiteer film, following
on the heels of the “Law of the .45’s,” but it’s the one that launched
the soon to be successful series; Republic bought the film rights and regularly
cranked out some 4 to 6 episodes every year (totaling 51) until 1943, using
different players to fill the title roles of the Mesquiteers. One of them
was John Wayne until he graduated from B-films with his hit in the 1939
Stagecoach.
Wallace Fox (”Six Gun Mesa”/”Arizona Territory”/”Jack Armstrong”)
directs this muddled B-film without distinction; it was promisingly billed
by RKO as the “Barnum & Bailey of Westerns.” There were some 13 former
silent screen Western stars who appeared: Harry Carey, Hoot Gibson, Guinn
“Big Boy” Williams, Bob Steele, Tom Tyler, Buzz Barton, Wally Wales, Art
Mix, Buffalo Bill Jr., Buddy Roosevelt, Franklyn Farnum, William Desmond,
and William Farnum.
The Three Mesquiteers, Tucson Smith (Harry Carey), Stony Brooke (Hoot
Gibson), Lullaby Joslin (Guinn ‘Big Boy’ Williams), come upon a stagecoach
robbery in progress where the driver is killed. They catch the outlaw and
bring him to the law, and when rifling through the mail that scattered
all over the ground they discover the outlaw was after a letter addressed
to Tucson telling him the boys are the new owners of a ranch. The Guadalupe
Kid (Bob Steele) is the outlaw they befriended and gave him a $1,000 to
go straight. That he did and now repays the boys for the favor by buying
them unannounced this spread. When the oily owner of the Red Bull bar and
political big wheel in town, Big Steve Ogden (Sam Hardy), schemes to take
over their 3 Bar O ranch, using corrupt deputy sheriff Glasgow (Adrian
Morris) to thwart them at every turn, cowboys to steal the deed and then
hiring the snarling gunslinger Sundown Saunders (Tom Tyler) to force a
shootout with Tucson. But things work out favorably in the end for the
good guys.
It has enough star appeal to be watchable; it also had its funny
moments such as the gruff Carey telling one hombre he has a bullet ready
with his address on it and watching an antsy for action Gibson chowing
down without a stop while complaining of the lack of variety in their ranch
diet.
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Lyon, Parade 1943: Raymond Samuel - revolutionaries pseudonym, Aubrac - (Auteuil) and his wife Lucie (Bouquet) are active in the Resistance against the Nazi occupying forces. On June 21, Raymond is arrested in Caluire, at the clan of Dr Dugoujon (St Macary), along with Jean Moulin, a ripe ranking Freedom fighters officer, bewitched to prison and tortured. Lucie’s passionate love for her suppress drives her to risk it all, to try everything, to snatch her keep from the grip of the Gestapo. Her efforts involve his comrades, and involve a mixture of violence and romance, and seem to spring from the fertile imagination of a novelist. But the story is existent.
Invictus
"It is an active hubris to believe that marriage can be infinitely malleable that it can be pushed and pulled like silly-putty without destroying its essential stability and what it means to our society," said Congressman Jim Talent, R-Missouri, at a 1996 congressional debate on the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA).
In that,
Tying the Knot
, a mediocre documentary with a super hot subject matter is effective in blowing holes in arguments against same-sex marriages with archival footage of a politician more than occasionally inserting foot-in-mouth. For some clips, director Jim de Seve did not have to go too far back in the filing cabinetsGeorge W. Bush thoughtfully brought the long-lived struggle to our doorsteps with a recent proposed amendment banning gay marriages.
Indeed,
Tying the Knot
is an important film with 87 minutes of gay pride protests and barking politicians, so why then does it seem more suited in a cable television timeslotor as a friend suggested, on a "Dateline" segmentthan on the big screen?
Because although this film is successful at piecing together the history of the gay rights movement, it misses its mark by relying too heavily on the tape library at CSPAN for file footages and past historic examples of civil disobedience.
California Congresswoman Maxine Waters is shown debating gay rights issues with an outfit circa 1982. It would have been interesting to see Waters, still active in Congress, voice her opinion on the current state of affairs.
And what little screen time is actually devoted to more personal accounts of the effects of the discriminatory law is actually skewed towards the wrong couple. De Seve, as they say in journalism, buried the lead.
He primarily focuses on Mickie Mashburn, a mullet-wearing Florida police officer, who is struggling to procure Lois Marrero'sa police officer killed in a bank robbery shoot outpension benefit. At the couple's commitment ceremony, Lois' sister Brenda Marrero, held the wedding rings. At the court hearings, Brenda turns on Mashburn.
She accuses Mashburn of having an affair with another woman and clinches claim to the pension fund. In news footage, Brenda definitively says that this is not a gay-marriage issue and I completely agree. Forget to draft a will or sign an official document and your pension is lost in a bureaucratic mess, regardless of whether you're gay or straight.
The far more compelling story of Sam, a U.S. Air Force Veteran and now a farmer living in Oklahoma, does not receive nearly enough attention. In telling his story of meeting his life partner and raising a family together with a man named Earl and watching him die, Sam shows no emotion. In one scene, his voice crackles as he wistfully proclaims that he wishes Earl were still alive and in another scene, his eyes crinkle in merriment as he indicates that he and Earl did not sleep in the same bed because of snoring problems.
Although Earl did will the property to Sam, Earl's family members contest it because theirs was not a legal union. And so Sam is forced to sell his belongings, ask for loans and scrap together money in order to stay in the house than he and Earl maintained for the last 22 years.
Sam's story smashes the conception of gay marriages and is sadly second in the line-up of personal stories.
Maybe Michael Moore has truly corrupted the genre for good because we half expect to be more entertained than educated, but it is refreshing to not see the director pop on screen.
De Seve, a relative novice, shows his insecurity by layering ominous music over the interviews and scenes as if to say, "This is a real problem." Gay rights has always been a hotly debated issue and in an election year when the current president is trying to push a federal ban against same-sex marriages, the topic and the interviewees should speak for themselves.
The film is well put together, but it's one of those films that can be described as "important" to watch, but not necessarily one that throngs of people would rush to see.
Fox’s song-driven wartime showbiz meller In behalf of the Boys is a pompously, creaky balloon of a movie that lumbers along like a dirigible in a Thanksgiving march, festooned with nationalistic sentiment. Ambitious effort spans the 50-year relationship of two USO entertainers (Bette Midler and James Caan) whose song, dance and innuendo carries them through three wars. Allegedly a ‘love story’ between two difficult people who are each married to others, pic suffers from the couple’s be of ardour.
Story begins in the present day, when a dapper production assistant (Arye Gross) arrives by limo to pick up Dixie for a major awards show. Midler makes a shocker of an entrance; pic then dissolves to 1942, when she was a bubbly young mother called up to join the famous Eddie Sparks in a London wartime revue.
The picture doesn’t move, it regroups: from Europe to North Africa, then to Korea, through the bloodbath of McCarthyism and finally to Vietnam. The details of costume and design are convincing, but the main idea isn’t.
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Midler steams through the outing with sass and charm, eking out laughs on her own merit whenever the script stumbles. But Caan, in a role that recalls his pallid backup to Barbra Streisand in Funny Lady, seems pinioned by the script and generally uncomfortable.
1991: Nomination: Best Actress (Bette Midler)
By Kam Williams
Women's Lives Whimsically Intertwine in Serendipitous Israeli Adventure
In recent years, some of the most intriguing, feminist dramas have been coming out of Israel. The character-driven Nina's Tragedies and Close to Home come immediately to mind. You can now add Jellyfish to that impressive list, a surreal adventure which whimsically intertwines the lives of several women whose paths crisscross in present-day Tel Aviv.
The fulcrum of the plot is provided by the plight of heartsick Batya (Sarah Adler), a waitress working at the wedding of Karen (Noa Knoller) and Michael (Gera Sandler). Shortly past the point of departure, we learn that the couple's plans for a Caribbean honeymoon are ruined when the bride breaks her ankle after accidentally locking herself in a bathroom.
So, they opt to take a room right on the ground floor of the beachfront hotel hosting their reception. Supportive Michael soon finds himself waiting hand and foot on his suddenly whiny wife, and it's obvious that he must be more than a little annoyed with her when he has his head turned by the flirtatious poet staying in the penthouse.
Elsewhere, we find Joy (Ma-nenita De Latorre), a homesick nurse missing the five year-old son she had to leave behind in her native Philippines. It doesn't help any that although she asked to be assigned childcare because she doesn't speak any Hebrew, her agency hired her out to Malka (Zaharira Harifai), an elderly woman who is not only grouchy, but bigoted to boot. Despite Joy's exhibiting the patience of a saint, Malka would prefer to live with her daughter, an actress busily preparing to appear in a production of Hamlet directed by an Arab.
These assorted threads are woven together ever so subtly via the meanderings of Batya, a forlorn soul who besides being left by her boyfriend has had the rent recently raised on her dilapidated apartment. The carefree slacker reacts by drinking water dripping from a hole in the ceiling, and by adopting a naked, freckle-faced, five year-old (Nikol Leidman) she finds frolicking alone along the Mediterranean shore.
But after bonding, Batya becomes distraught when the mute little girl disappears almost as mysteriously as she had arrived. Then, disavow at the resort, jealousy rears its ugly head as Karen starts to wonder why her husband's new lover has so generously offered to swap rooms.
In Jellyfish, always of more consequence than the give-and-take of any of the superficial personal dramas are the complicated cultural and psychological issues simmering just under the surface. Like Amelie with an attitude, this sinister flick links strangers serendipitously, but with an almost shocking absence of naivete.
Excellent (4 stars)
Unrated
In Hebrew, French and English with subtitles.
Running time: 78 minutes
Studio: Zeitgeist Films
judythpiazza@newsblaze.com
Tags: Spectacular, Politics, top news
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Timothy Treadwell
Himself
Farm out?s face it: when boiled down to its most basic appeal, people really go to the cinema to see a make fun of mauled by a produce. The question director Werner Herzog poses with
Grizzly Man
, in a faux-uncomplicatedness that opens up an uncontrollable amount of questions about humanity, nature, civilization, insanity, spirituality, self-representative, filmmaking, and Herzog himself is, why would a man inadequacy to be mauled by a tote, on camera tied? To be fair, Timothy Treadwell, the angle of Herzog?s dusting, which made up of footage of Treadwell?s associates after his passing-by-bear, and a sturdy amount of journal, documentary, and educational footage Treadwell shot himself while exclusively in the undisciplined, did not specifically
want
to get eaten. But it was Treadwell?s impulse to authorization the world behind?Herzog sketches a masked incarnation of a failed actor whose middling sparkle led to drug and alcohol abuse before finding his calling in simplicity?to bone up on bears, tangible with bears, befriend bears, and ultimately develop a bear, that lead to Herzog?s lean, chilling documentary characterization of a man looking for assess in wildness and being led down a predetermined path towards chaos.
Treadwell done in thirteen consecutive summers living unaccompanied in an Alaskan countryside preserve and recorded over sole hundred hours of self-shot footage, and the simple sawbones closeness the bear-lover had to nature, seen in his own images and his rapid passion, is thrillingly ironical. But it is the break down of the assembled footage that provides the most insight. As it shifts from the beauty to the savagery of nature, from Treadwell?s spiritual assurance to his crippling loneliness, anger and insecurity, the intelligent deftness with which Herzog picks, chooses, and arranges Treadwell?s various moods, motivations, concerns, and filmmaking means that no unattached scene shot by the activist fails to speak both grandly and intimately.
That Herzog inaugurate and put together such vivid, astonishing elements of Treadwell?s time amongst the bears is a boon pro Herzog auteurists, who love to fight the director?s submergence in exotic locals and flirtations with irresponsibility, but
Grizzly Man
?s delights go far beyond a sheer documentary thematic retread. The cloud is a character study, a human cram, first and foremost, but a given once inundated in detective story. Herzog explores the reasons for Treadwell?s career change, and more importantly the variables that dictate his often charming, highly exuberant, equally highly paranoid, camera-loving, self-advertising, and always favourably erratic personality with feeling, empathy, and considerable brilliance. But the conclusion to the many threads of questions the film weaves about its filmmaker/actor/activist/environmentalist/scientist subject remains an unknown. And the mystery of Timothy Treadwell extends to Herzog as a filmmaker and the audience as spectators,
Grizzly Staff
existing as a rare, different curriculum vitae and exploration but one that is so powerful, so important, so strange (this is, after all, a film inspired by the protagonist being mauled by a bear), and until now so archetypal that its study can allegorically be applied far and wide.
Xanadu
Arno Mikli
Rating: 5 Beans
n Xanadu, did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree: where Alph ,the sacred river ran, through caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea.'
Poet Samuel Coleridge even gets quoted in this disappointing account of how a muse from Greek mythology did decree a stately roller-disco pleasure dome featuring hybrid 1940s/1970s music, where various movie extras skate around a sunless rink.
For Olivia Newton-John , who plays the muse in question, this film was meant to be the followup to her successful performance in "Grease". Unfortunately, this was not to be. It would also have been the source of disappointment for quite a few other persons, including Gene Kelly (this was , unfortunately, his last film) and the Electric Light Orchestra, who played a large role in the film's soundtrack.And of course, let's not forget the audience.
To see why, let us imagine that we are back in 1980 . We still remember Grease. We still love Livvy. We may have even heard a recital of the theme song, and can't wait to see it in video form. The lights dim, the mandatory series of trialers make their appearances on the big screen, and then we see the picture of a plane encircling the globe. As it evolves into more futuristic aircraft, it soon becomes evident that this is the film when the opening bars of 'Xanadu' are heard and a UFO starts encircling the globe.
Disillusioned artist Sonny Malone (Michael Beck) then appears on the screen, sketching away at some plans. In a fit of picque, he tears the plans to pieces and, being the environmentally unfriendly chap that he is, flings them out the window. They float away and we float away with them, to an alleyway where a large picture of nine young maidens can be seen. Then something odd happens. The pictures come to life and become nine young nymphettes with light purple glows. They, including of course young Livvy, briefly dance away to the tune of the ELO's 'I'm Alive' (after all, the word 'music' is derived from the word 'muse'). Then they become rays of light and disappear into the sky. Did Sonny's little tantrum cause this? If so, then remember the moral, guys. He who litters the environment can expect to become the lead character in a bad musical movie. But this reviewer is getting ahead of himself here.
We soon discover that Sonny has returned to work for his old boss, a tyrant by the name of Simpson (James Sloyan). Simpson throws Sonny some art to work on, but the art inxeplicable features a mysterious and alluring female (guess who?) who had been seen skating near him early that day before disappearing in a ray of light. No satisfactory expanantion for it can be found.
He is soon out on the streets , in the search of further clues. Initially he meets Danny Maguire (Gene Kelly) on a wharf. Then he spots the mysterious female again, but in trying to get to speak to her takes a crash dive off a pier. But never fear, he meets up with her gain, this time in a building that was featured earlier in the cover given to him by Simpson.It is an abandoned buiding called the 'Platinum Palace'.This time she is rollerskating about, and occasionally dematerialising and reappearing, whilst "Magic" is playing in the background. But how disappointing, by the time the girl disappears yet again, saying only that her name is Kiera, we get to hear only a portion of "Magic". Worse, that portion was heavily drenched with inane dialogue such as :
"You!" "Me!" "Now I've seen you three times in one day!", and later, "You come here often?"
By now, we are getting to feel as frustrated as Sonny . When's something interesting going to happen? Are all the songs going to chopped like this? ("I'm Alive" was also truncated).Oh, and when's that jerk going to remove his foot from the side of the seat here in the theatre? Oh well, at least ONJ looks great in that dress that looks like it was made from potato sacks. Perhaps they were trying to illustrate that classical saying
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Sonny avoids being fired when he reports back to work. But Simpson soon makes it clear that it is customary for him to tell people to smarten up and do what he tells them to do. How mean! It's a surprise that Sonny doesn't call in a few warriors to sort it out.
Instead he does the logical thing and goes back to the Platinum Theatre. There he meets Danny yet again, and discovers that he used to play for Glenn Miller. They go off to Danny's house and discuss old times and find a certain female's face in a 1940s photo. A femme formidable indeed! It seems that she used to be in Miller's band. Sonny leaves and Danny ends up in a dream sequence (at least, this reviewer thinks it was a dream sequence) in which he get to dance with Kiera - in WW2 uniform - again. It's all nostalgic stuff for older audience members, likely to bring back memories of Judy Garland or how Gene Kelly's imagination churned out that theatrical production in "Singing in the Rain", but unfortunately likely to leave younger ones further bewildered.
The next day, Kiera shows up at work and Sonny agrees to show her the studio's range of special effects (or something). "Two might break it", he warns. "Break it carefully" , she responds. So they glide away in the studios wide range of special effects of rain, trains and soforth to the tune of "Suddenly". This time , the song gets truncated by Simpson who interrupts in customary fashion and cuts off the effects in something of a rage. "Oh S**t!" he mutters, when things start exploding. "Doh!" might have been more appropriate, but those Simpsons were still in the future. Sonny and Kiera disappear in the night, through means less paranormal than Kiera's.
The next day, Sonny and Danny meet up yet again at the Platinum Palace. They argute about the idea of creating some kind of dome dedicated to 1940s and 1970s music. Danny again unleashes his deadly imagination and we get to see 1940s singers performing alongside a (then) modern-day rock band. It's an odd little hybrid peformance indeed. What would the result have been if they had actually performed together rather than taking turns with the audience? The result would have been either atrocious or a classic, but it would've been less disappointing than what was seen. At least that jerk with the foot on the seat is gone. This one was too much for him, it seems.
We're getting pretty bored ourselves,. but not Danny, who joyfully declares that he'll do it and create it. Wait, something based on that???? Oh dear, maybe we should leave ourselves. But wait Kiera's arrived, quoting Collerige and suggesting an appropriate name for the studio. You guessed it, Xanadu. Oh, when's that song going to arrive?
Sonny is not repulsed by the idea. Indeed he is so enthused by it that he storms off to the dominating Simpson and tells him that he is quitting and that he never wants to see him again. We see the last of Simpson with his hand in some paint, muttering a certain four-letter word rhyming with pit.
Sonny celebrates this odd move in his career by joining Kiera in an unsuccessful musical cartoon, and with Danny and Kiera by shopping for 'glitz' and clothing at a shopping centre. They are joined in this musical endeavour by some dancing store dummies, while Danny looks pretty much like a dummy himself in some of the clothes that he appears in during this sequence. The choreography in this sequence is perhaps best left uncommented on.
It apparently doesn't take long to rebuild the studio. Perhaps Kiera pulled a few strings. Maybe Sonny has some generous unemployment cheques.It is a mercy on us. Luckily someone's bought some coffee to keep us up on this endless ordeal…
Just a few days before the grand opening, Sonny gives us the chance to see just how dumb he really is. One would have thought that someone who could do such paranormal things as appear and disappear at will, have been in a 1940s band but still look quite youthful, place herself on album covers, turn him into a cartoon figure and bring store dummies to life was, well, likely to be not your typical girlfriend. Instead it is an utter shock to him when Kiera reveals that she is a muse. He is only persuaded of this when Kiera makes some TV characters talk to Sonny and puts Sonny's name in a dictionary (but not , alas, as a synonym for twit). Kiera would have been better advised using that dictionary to look up Zeus . She would've learnt that it's pronounced "Ze-use", not "Zoose". We also discover that she loves Sonny. Any impact that this shock development might have had is spoilt once again by the dialogue, which is inane as ever. Guaranteed to make us splutter in our coffee are such gems as "Kiera, I love you" "I love you too, Sonny!" "No kidding!" Kiera then dolefully disappears in front of a traumatised Sonny. So has virtually everybode else in this theatre, we notice.
No kidding either, about the the scene shortly thereafter where Sonny is in the alley , on rollerskates, where the nine muses first appeared. The camera goes over Sonny slowly, and burnt endlessly in out minds is that red shirt with the top buttons undone ( well, at least the girls might be thrilled at that) and that study of lonely misery etched on Sonny's face. Then he does the logical thing and roller skates at top speed into the wall holding the poster. We and Sonny find that he has entered total blackness. Is he in some after life? Perhaps he's back in that pinball machine from the store scene. But no, we soon find that he's on Olympus (or somewhere) and Kiera's there. Kiera and Sonny engage in dialogue even worse than before (this reviewer will spare you any samples). Then we find that Zeus and Rhea are also there as disembodied voices. Sonny pleads with Zeus to release Kiera, but fails. At least he doesn't get zapped for mispronouncing Zeus'es name. Sonny then leaves , and Kiera mournfully sings out in full (for a change) one of the weakest songs (at least in this reviewer's opinion) in the Xanadu. (WHERE IS THAT TITLE SONG????, we almost shout out loud) Perhaps as a result of this , Rhea pleads with Zeus to release Kiera. Zeus ponders out aloud that perhaps we could, at least
We get transferred , instead, to Xanadu's opening night. We see Danny leading a bizarre circus of 1940s skaters, 1970s skaters where the males are in blue trousers and shirts and the females are dressed in revealing shorts and T-shirts (obviously not a politically correct establishment!), those store dummies, and other such individuals in endless laps around the rollerskating rink. At one point they stare directly at the camera and chant out "Xanadu" endlessly. Are they customers? Staff? Hired help? Who knows? Who cares?
From another perspective , we are seeing Gene Kelly's last big musical scene in his long and commendable career. It's unfortunate that it had to be something like this.
But wait, there's one Gene/Danny skating toward the camera on the screen. Now there's two. Now there's three. The next thing we hear is those long awaited opening bars of "Xanadu" and yes there she is , Kiera, in a nice long gown singing "A place, where nobody dares to go, alove that we cam to know…." Sonny is there smiling away happily but otherwise not reacting to Kiera's appearanace at all. We finish listening to the long-awaited song and then flee from the cinema. Getting there was hard enough. Going any further was beyond out endurance. We go running out and loses ourselves in topical speculation as to who shot JR so as to wipe this experience from our minds.
There is more, including a reappearance by her eight fellow muses, (Just where have they been?? Perhaps they were inspiring people into creating such gems as "Grease 2". "Hurricane" and "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes"), a repeat performance of "Xanadu" and the final answer as to the question as to whether Sonny and Kiera stay together.
Some of this films touches were lost on us. We don't know that the film was are make of a 1940s film (specifically the 1947 Rita Hayworth film "Down to Earth") or that the name Danny Maguire had the name of a character that Kelly had played in an earlier film.
Fir us, only one lesson was learnt from watching this film. To get the most enjoyment out of it, just listen to the soundtrack. It's a lot more endurable and enjoyable. So is listening to Olivia Newtobn-John in her albums, who has sung the title song in a few of her albums and her concerts without damaging her career. It has remained a popular hit.
And that's the one good thing that can be said about "Xanadu".
What could have been merely another of the countless coming-of-seniority tracts churned out on the indie-sector conveyor belt each year becomes a deeply nuanced play built of original angles in Michael Cuesta’s perfect attribute defer, “L.I.E.” Skillfully negotiating a thin line between the abhorrent and the sympathetic, this superbly acted film is likely to offend chin-wag from one end to the other its courageous depiction of an unapologetic pedophile as an oddly honorable man. Balancing pathos with humor and edgy, morally confrontational drama, this poignant account of growing up away the Long Isle Expressway represents a commercial challenge, but one that could pay insane on a modest level with critical fortifying and prudent positioning.
An experienced photographer and commercials director, Cuesta initially teamed with his brother Gerald on the screenplay before bringing in Stephen M. Ryder, a former cop who’s now a professional writer. Result is an uncommonly perceptive script, rich in observation about the confusion of growing up, friendship, infatuation, love, parenting and guidance, as well as the search for an alternative in the absence of that guidance.
Most provocatively, the film deals with a middle-age ex-Marine — masterfully played by Brian Cox — whose proclivities run to young boys, but whose paternal instincts kick in when he perceives the need in a troubled 15-year-old.
The older character’s tragic outcome could be interpreted as the filmmakers’ way of protecting themselves against charges of inviting empathy for a figure branded by society as the most vile of criminals. But more so than in Todd Solondz’s “Happiness,” the overall treatment of pedophilia, while far from condoning, boldly challenges standard preconceptions, inviting a broader understanding than most audiences will have going in.
Central character, adolescent Howie (Paul Franklin Dano), is introduced precariously balancing on the expressway overpass, his voiceover recalling the number of lives claimed on the road, from celebrities like Harry Chapin and Alan J. Pakula to his mother years earlier. He barely communicates with his building contractor father, Marty (Bruce Altman), who’s preoccupied with sleeping with his girlfriend and his mounting legal problems over a fire probe into the use of unsafe materials.
Howie is part of a quartet of friends who occasionally break into the neighborhood’s upper-middle-class houses. His closest friend in the group is sexually precocious wiseass Gary (Billy Kay).
As the bond between them intensifies, Howie becomes slowly aware that his feelings for Gary may run deeper than friendship, while Gary in turn flirts and encourages the affection, suggesting they run off together to California. The first glitch happens when they rob the home of respected neighborhood figure Big John (Cox), leaving behind evidence that allows him to track down Howie. A regular at the expressway shoulder where young guys cruise and turn tricks, Big John is one of countless Long Island men who, unbeknownst to Howie, have sampled Gary’s wares.
When Gary takes off alone for California, Howie is left to deal with Big John’s demands for the return of his property, and when Marty is arrested, Howie’s sense of abandonment becomes complete, drawing him closer to Big John. But the boy’s vulnerability stirs an unexpected response in the older man.
Addressing highly explosive issues with matter-of-fact ease, Cuesta orchestrates a modulation of tone rare in an inexperienced filmmaker. The mood shifts naturally between breezy humor as Howie and his friends discuss sex; understated sexual frissons as Howie and Gary goof off together; and the boy’s series of complex confrontations with Howie’s father, a school counselor, Big John and the man’s live-in plaything (Walter Masterson), bitterly resentful that he’s now too far into his teens to be enticing anymore.
Direction of the actors is impressive, most notably in Cox’s brave, many-sided interpretation of Big John, a predatory, manipulative man who’s also guilt-ridden and surprised to find himself subject to the rules of his own moral code.
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Cuesta’s handle on the refreshingly unselfconscious young cast is equally sure. Helped considerably by the writers’ sharp ear for natural dialogue, Dano makes Howie a smart, sensitive kid but gives him a strength and resilience that suggest a foot already planted in the adult world. Kay also is terrific, brimming with so much cocky energy and attitude that his departure from the film leaves a momentary hole. Tony Donnelly has some delightful comic moments as the dolt of the group, while Altman conveys the conflict of a weak guy who knows he’s no model parent.
Lenser Romeo Tirone uses the crisp, clean colors of suburbia, the pristine architecture and manicured lawns to good effect, making the expressway of the title a tangible, dangerous presence. Also of note is composer Pierre Foldes’ subtle string score.
“Ice Cube holds the film together
with an engaging and warm performance…”
Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz
A pleasing but formulaic cable TV sitcom type of film about Calvin
(Ice Cube), a third generation barber who reluctantly inherits his father’s
popular neighborhood barbershop first opened in 1958 by his grandfather
on Chicago’s South Side. Because he can’t pay his property taxes, the bank
is about to foreclose.
The film was a mixture of clichéd moments, banal dialogue,
stereotyped characters, sentimental poppycock, but it also had moments
of quiet streetwise wisdom–enough to keep the flick afloat from all its
cornball shticks. Ice Cube holds the film together with an engaging and
warm performance, while a host of character actors do their comedy bits
around many amusing vaudeville-like skits, and whenever there might have
been a lull in the action the noisy barbershop banter and bickering keeps
things hopping.
The most hilarious scene was a Laurel and Hardy routine between two
bungling thieves, the overweight know-it-all JD (Anderson) and the slender
dimwit Billy (Tate). They stole an ATM machine from a convenience store
on the same block as the barbershop and are trying unsuccessfully to break
it open as they move it around the neighborhood while the police are searching
for the thieves.
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The film’s best scene was the one that caused a controversy among
some black leaders such as the Reverend Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson,
who foolishly called for a boycott of the movie. They were upset because
the old-time barber with much idle time to jaw away because he doesn’t
seem to draw any customers, the motormouth Eddie (Cedric the Entertainer),
has spoken irreverently of African-American history and says Rosa Parks’
action to desegregate a southern bus was overrated in the ‘Civil Rights
movement.’ The other barbers and patrons, by the way, disagree with Eddie’s
take on this issue (not that it matters!).
Barbershop’s most integrating moment is watching a friendly white
barber (Garity, the son of Jane Fonda and Tom Hayden), who is immersed
in black culture and just wants the opportunity to cut hair, try to make
it in the black barbershop as he defends himself for acting black by saying
that’s who he really is.
The film takes place over one long and trying Saturday, as Calvin’s
pregnant and devoted wife Jennifer (Lewis) kisses him early in the morning
before he leaves for work and tells him she loves him for keeping his father’s
barbershop alive. But Calvin has other ideas as he wishes to open his own
recording studio in the basement of his house, as he’s disappointed that
his father let the place become unprofitable by giving away too many free
haircuts. Calvin opens his shop early as he views the scene of his neighbor’s
smashed storefront, where he tells the hurting Indian owner (Cheena) of
the stolen ATM machine “to be strong.” Soon the barbers and regular customers
start trickling in. Most of the film is set in the barbershop. Calvin is
soon busy trying to cool things down between his sparring barbers, the
sexy and vocal Terry (Eve, hip-hop singer) and the snobbish, bourgeoisie,
college student Jimmy James (Thomas), whom she accuses of drinking her
apple juice drink. This comes after she finds her smooth boyfriend (George)
with another woman in bed. Calvin is on the phone to a local loan shark,
Lester Wallace, who is dresed like a well-heeled pimp and is driving a
snazzy Lincoln Continental. Calvin makes an unholy deal with him to sell
the shop for $20,000 and for him to pay off his debts, but changes his
mind when he learns Lester will turn the place into a strip club. But when
Calvin tries unsuccessfully to return the dough to Lester, he’s told that
he can have the place back only if he pays him $40,000 by 7 p.m. that night.
Calvin holds the secret of the sale until his wife barges in on him when
the nosy next door shopkeeper phones to tell her Lester was in the barbershop.
Calvin is sorry he broke his wife’s heart and let down the community, and
is further remorseful of what he did when he talks with Eddie as he tells
him he messed up big time. The old-timer reflects on how the barbershop
is the black man’s country club and the neighborhood meeting place where
the black man can speak his mind and tell it straight. Calvin also feels
he will now let down those who need his help such as Ricky (Ealy), a two-time
felon he took a chance on hiring and who is trying hard to go straight
(But if he was trying that hard, I wonder why he brought a hand gun to
work!).
Barbershop plays as an old-fashioned, uplifting and somewhat sermonizing
film about black pride and tolerance for others, as its main point is that
blacks can and should run their own businesses and should not rely solely
on others to help them. While the movie’s politics might be less than liberal,
its call for community spirit and solidarity reaches across all political
viewpoints. The movie’s comedy is also of the non-threatening PG-13 kind,
and if it’s marketed right should reach a solid crossover audience. Music-video
veteran Tim Story directed a script by Mark Brown which is likable enough,
but is more suited for those who like sensible films that do not rock the
boat too much.
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Burl Robbins