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  • JCVD Review, Toronto 2008

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    Under discussion:

    Hard Target  (1993)

    JCVD  (2008)


    At face value, JCVD sounds like a lot of fun. Jean-Claude Van Damme plays a version of himself in this fictional film, and it opens with an extremely over the top action sequence. Van Damme slugs, knifes, and kicks his way through all of the action in one take, only to have part the set fall apart when another actor closes the door. He pleads with the bored director that he’s old and he can’t do it in one take. The director ignores him and hurls darts into a photo of the Hollywood sign. Symbolism, anyone?

    Unfortunately, the film derails so suddenly that you’ll check yourself for nosebleed. It moves from a campy farce into what you can only assume is a semi-autobiographical film that takes places half in the fantasy mind of director Mabrouk El Mechri, and half inside the warped opinion that Jean-Claude has of himself. Either that or director and star decided to get together and reinvent the old Jean-Claude as the new Jean-Claude. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

    After the opening scene, we find out that Van Damme is embroiled in a bitter custody battle with his ex-wife over their daughter, and daughter doesn’t want to live with daddy because the other kids at school make fun of her when her dad is on tv. Why? Because he babbles like a self-important loon. He’s employed an expensive law firm in Los Angeles to help him with the case, but his last check to them bounced, and he’s forced to take a role in yet another low-budget kickfest film to try and get an advance. When that does work out, he heads to the bank to make a withdrawal.

    In the bank, Van Damme finds himself in the middle of a bank robbery that isn’t going very well, and the cops actually think he’s the one robbing the bank. Soon a crowd grows outside when the word leaks, and the rest of the film is a standoff between the cops and the bank robbers, with Van Damme stuck in the middle. Things grow increasingly tense and unhinged, and in a truly bizarre sequence not long before the climax, Van Damme literally floats off of the floor above the scene, past the lights and boom mics, and addresses the camera directly. In a tearful confession, he says that he’s accomplished nothing in his life, that all of his fame, film roles, drug usage, marriages, and money means nothing. If you caught the finale episode of HBO’s Extras, then you saw Ricky Gervais of all people do something similar in a much more effective and touching way. Without the floating.

    Van Damme returns to earth and he saves the day, frees the hostages, and in one ending he literally kicks one of the bad guys unconscious. However, that’s yet another fantasy sequence, and ultimately it is revealed that he’s serving a short jail sentence due to the events, which really makes no sense. Much like the rest of the movie. He’s happy in prison, teaching karate lessons, and his daughter comes to visit him in what is meant to be an emotional scene. Unfortunately, it falls flatter than the wall in that opening sequence.

    I’m admittedly not the biggest Van Damme fan, but back in the day I had a soft spot for fare like Hard Target (hey, it was John Woo’s first American film), and Timecop. On paper it sounded like this film was going to be a lot campier than it was, but it appears to be some sort of a confession for Van Damme, and a very expensive letter from a fan to one of his idols. There were admittedly a few funny moments in the beginning, but those quickly began to taper off as the movie tried to take itself too seriously.

    Diehard JCVD fans will probably love this film, and there was an enormous line outside of the theater for this film at its midnight opening. Any time Jean-Claude’s name was mentioned during the introduction, hundreds of audience members howled in delight. There wasn’t nearly as much howling when the film was over.


    Originally posted on:SpoutBlog

  • Che, Wrestler, Rachel: Toronto Gossip 9/8/08

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    Under discussion:

    The Wrestler  (2008)

    Che  (2008)

    With the first weekend of the 2008 Toronto International Fim Festival now in the dustbin of history, here are a few notes from the ground:

    • Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler premiered here last night, fresh off its Golden Bear win in Venice, and nary a negative word has so far been heard. In the interest of time management, I’m going to wait until NYFF to catch it, but a reliable source told me after the screening that the film “is fucking awesome.” Apparently Fox Searchlight agrees––this morning they locked a deal to domestically distribute the film and finance a major Oscar push for star Mickey Rourke.
    • A film at the polar opposite end of the buzz spectrum is Spike Lee’s The Miracle at St. Anna, which even admirers of Spike’s provacations are calling a waste of time. Our own Kevin Kelly was at the film’s junket, which he says devolved into “The Elect Barack Obama Show” when neither journalists nor the filmmaker could keep the conversation focused on the movie. Kevin will have a report from the junket coming soon.
    • Somewhere in between in terms of audience reaction: Jonathan Demme’s Rachel Getting Married. It’s my favorite film in Toronto this far, and a small contingent of journalists are also all about it. Still, some are (bafflingly, to my mind) pejoratively comparing it to Margot at the Wedding (the titles share a word, so apparently such comparisons are fair game), and rumor has it that the NYFF selection comittee unanimously rejected it for inclusion.
    • Magnolia hasn’t officially announced it yet, but everyone is saying that they’ve settled on a deal to distribute Che. The NY Post says Mark Cuban’s distribution arm is “already booking theaters.”

    Originally posted on:SpoutBlog

  • John Malkovich Interview, Burn After Reading, Toronto 2008

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    John Malkovich in Burn After Reading

    John Malkovich enjoyed a particularly high spike in popularity and geek credit when he appeared in Charlie Kaufman’s Being John Malkovich, but he’s been in more than 20 films since then and he hasn’t managed to have that lightning strike twice.

    He was excellent as the poseur art teacher in the otherwise disappointing Art School Confidential, and while he turns in a great performance in Burn After Reading, neither one stands above anything else he’s done. Maybe he should actually try playing a jewel thief to see what he can do with that role. Find out what he thought about working with the Coens and dropping the f-bomb a lot in the interview after the break.

    This role seemed like a real workout for you, was that the case?

    Oh, I enjoyed it very much.  No, I wouldn’t say it was more or less of a workout than usual.  Particularly with the script…there is nothing to change or improv with a good script.  You just do it.  There is a reason that a football field has boundaries.  There are a million ways to do a good script within those boundaries.  Then you play with those and it was a delight.

    You’re also here in the festival in Disgrace. What was it like playing a character or characters who aren’t as intelligent as yourself?

    You might want to clarify that I’m here in ‘Disgrace’.  I’m not really here in disgrace or shame.  Well, I would never say a character is more or less intelligent than I am.  I just don’t think of it that way.  I read what they do and when the writing is good it gives you a fairly clear notion of how they see the world.  Then it’s just a matter of collaborating with people you’ve never worked with before.  There is the give and take of how they work, how they view things, and how you do.  You develop a kind of language.  Usually that can be developed pretty quickly and readily. I never think ‘Oh, is this man brighter or less bright than I am?’

    We have the great misfortune to hear some excerpts from his book in the film.  Yes, I did say ‘That’s not a book I would rush out and buy.’  I feel like it’s something I could do without, but I haven’t written a book myself.  I really shouldn’t comment probably.  As far as Disgrace goes, I am mistrustful of going somewhere as complicated as present or past days South Africa and saying anything that would make someone believe that I understood it, or had something important to say.  I liked it very much there.  I found it unimaginably beautiful.  Of course it’s also sad and difficult as well.  My basic feeling about it was very hopeful.

    What was it like working with the Coen Brothers?

    I think that among the things that for me were delightful was first of all you are working with people who have made really, really fun things.   That’s always exciting and inspiring and calming.  They run a very calm set, a fun set, and partially because they are both very good.  Because there are two of them nothing gets out of the infield.  Things are seen, things are noted, things are remarked upon.  That isn’t always the case in a movie.  I think that Tilda and Brad would agree that a lot of times you can go days and days wondering if the director or directors saw that take, or any other take.  Do they have any kind of feeling about it whatsoever.  Sadly the answer to that could often, at least ostensibly appear to be, no.  They haven’t seen it.  That’s not the case with this.  Not many actors put on the same plays in their garage by themselves, without an audience.  It sort of presupposes that somebody has to be watching.  They are watching.

    You get a lot of mileage out of the f-bomb in this movie, what was that like?

    Profanity, most specifically the f bomb, is not as expressive as doo doo, but it’s an incredibly expressive word.  It can really mean anything or nothing, and everything in between. (Editor’s note: it sure can) It’s always fun to draw on that.


    Originally posted on:SpoutBlog

  • Nothing But The Truth Review, Toronto 2008

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    As a bitchy, comic/melodramatic woman’s picture on the order of All About Eve or The Women, Rod Lurie’s Nothing But The Truth is wildly entertaining. Unfortunatley for Lurie, I think it’s probably supposed to be a serious political parable about This Fix We Find Ourselves in Now…although the inclusion of Alan Alda as a fashion-obsessed high-powered defense attorney does make one wonder. Inspired by the Judith Miller/Valerie Plame/Scooter Libby CIA leak affair, the film begins with a disclaimer informing us that we’re about to watch a work of total fiction inspired by real events, and this is more than just a token protection against libel. In fact, the way Lurie distorts and embroiders on top of the framework of an actual political scandal is stunning. Drastically rewriting very recent history in order to transform the CIA agent into a dirty-mouthed martyr, the journalist into a 1st Amendment saint who sacrifices her family and freedom in order to protect a source, and the vice president’s chief of staff into a boozy Judas who merely confirms what the reporter already learned from an even more untouchable source, Truth is jaw-droppingly over-the-top in ways that are all good for a laugh, but don’t amount to much in the way of serious critique. Lurie’s shocking liberties might need to be seen to believe, but I’ll spoil them anyway, because they’re just too much fun. If you don’t want to know, don’t click through the link.

    In the real world, of course, the journalist was accused of using her platform to prop up the Bush administration’s specious evidence suggesting that war must be waged against Iraq in retaliation for the World Trade Center attack, and the CIA agent was outed in order to discredit the arguments of her husband, a foreign ambassador who wrote an editorial claiming his own fact finding missions had proven the evidence against Iraq to be false. In Lurie’s alternate universe version, President Lyman (Lie Man, get it?) is shot but survives to wage war against Venezuela in retailiation for the assasination attempt. Vera Farmiga’s Plame stand-in Erica goes to Venezuela and comes back to report that she can find no evidence that the country was involved. After war is waged anyway, Erica’s husband writes a couple of editorials restating her case publicly. Kate Beckinsale’s Rachel, a political reporter for a major newspaper, writes a story about Erica’s true identity, and is immediately rounded up by Matt Dillon’s “Pat Dubois, federal prosecutor.” Despite the help of Alda––who takes one look at Schwimmer and says, “I’m putting you in touch with my tailor”––Rachel is thrown in jail for refusing to reveal her source.

    A former entertainment reporter and the creator of the lady president TV series Commander in Chief, Lurie seems primarily concerned with the political ideology that could lead to the imprisoning of journalists under the notion that national security should be placed above constitutional protections, and the media climate that could allow a without outrage. He thus does all he can to ensure that our sympathies will lie with the journalist by swapping identifying details. Where real-life imprisoned reporter Miller was a seasoned journalist with a much-older spouse, Lurie brings us a pretty young mother who seems relatively happy dividing her time between the newsroom and suburban complacency with a young son and novelist husband (David Schwimmer in schlubby cad drag). Miller was derided in the press and accused of only withholding her source to protect the Bush administration, Kate Beckinsale’s Rachel gleefully tells her editor early in the film that her story will “bring down the White House.”

    Even if she disputed the administration’s evidence, Erica is coded as a loyal cog in the governmental machine which the film seems to be trying to turn the impartial viewer against. “Your paper has been trying to **** my husband ever since he spoke out against this administration!” she screams when Rachel confronts her at her daughter’s soccer game––oh, did I fail to mention that the CIA agent has been turned into a soccer mom? And that her daughter is the same age and goes to the same school as the journalists son? Yeah. Anyway, after she’s outed in the newspaper, Erica goes to Rachel’s house and first acts all chummy in the hopes of getting Rachel to reveal her source. “I know about keeping secrets,” she says, which seems to be her own version of “off the record.” When Rachel refuses, Erica calls her “an unpatriotic little ****.” (This Erica is quite a piece of work. She keeps saying that she doesn’t understand why the journalist would be doing this to her, being that their kids go to the same school. She also says “****” a lot, which I’m sure is not at all a lazily conceived character tic designed to inform us that this broad doesn’t play by the rules.)

    There’s something sort of brilliantly underhanded about the way Lurie twists this series of incidents which the average American citizen probably couldn’t even explain in depth (I know I’m a little fuzzy on the finer details), and turns it into a women in prison movie about unsurmountable maternal instinct. The majority of the film is devoted to Rachel sacrificing one aspect of her life after another in order to protect her source, to the point where her steadfast refusal to squawk becomes inexplicable. After several months in the slammer, her allies in the media forget about her. While she is behind bars, her husband takes her lawyer’s advice and gets a better suit –– and then gets a girlfriend. After an unsatisfying conjugal visit reveals the irreperability of her marriage, Rachel gets into a catfight with a fellow inmate and is beaten half to death. Just then, Randy Quaid shows up as the vice president’s chief of staff, and admits that he told Rachel about Erica whilst drunk at a suburban garden party––but only because Rachel asked.

    In real life, Miller never revealed her primary source but was set free after several months, while Dick Cheney’s consigliere Scooter Libby was convicted of obstruction of justice for his role in the leak but served no time. In Lurie’s version, Rachel agrees to a plea that will send her to prison for two years without having to reveal her source, and in a final scene flashback, we learn that Rachel got her first inkling of Erica’s true identity from Erica’s own daughter. This explains why Rachel kept asking about the little girl, particularly after Erica was assasinated by a member of a right wing fringe group. She gave up everything in order to protect a child! Who is now an orphan! Maybe because of her! This is probably a methor about how the children, who are our future, will be better served by a free press than by warmongering and paranoia. But by that point, my brain was so scrambled from all the cussing and hair pulling and laugh-out-loud swerves into hysterical historical revisionism that all I could do was giggle. Nothing But the Truth was the most fun I’ve had at Toronto this year, but I get the feeling that it probably shouldn’t have been.


    Originally posted on:SpoutBlog

  • Trade Roughage 09/08/08

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    • Bangkok Dangerous opened with only $7.8 million over the weekend, but on the upside it still topped the box office chart and it was still better than Nic Cage’s last non-National Treasure movie, Next. Far more embarrassing is Babylon A.D.’s 58% drop and College’s 55% drop in their second week, as well as Hamlet 2’s 52% drop in its second week in an already disappointing attempt at wide release.
    • Perhaps the Bard will have better luck with Paramount’s announced adaptation of the young-adult novel Spanking Shakespeare, which actually has even less to do with the playwright than Hamlet 2 does.
    • The obvious pitch: Braveheart in Egypt. Will Smith is playing Taharqa, a pharaoh who led battles against the eventually successful Assyrian invaders, in The Last Pharaoh. Randall Wallace is currently writing a new draft of the project, and hopefully Smith is hard at work on the “Walk Like an Egyptian”-sampling plot song.
    • Another soundtrack moment waiting to happen: “Hot for Teacher” playing as Jessica Alba becomes a second-grade math teacher in Marilyn Agrelo’s An Invisible Sign of My Own.
    • Just as the latest Coen brothers film is about to open, the previous is back in the news. Unfortunately, it’s because Tommy Lee Jones is suing Paramount for more than $10 million, which he claims he’s owed for No Country for Old Men.

    Originally posted on:SpoutBlog