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  • 'Eye' sore

    Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]
    Under discussion:

    The Conversation  (1974)

    The Fugitive  (1993)

    Rear Window  (1954)

    WarGames  (1983)

    Transformers  (2007)

    Disturbia  (2007)

    Eagle Eye  (2008)

    Shia LaBeouf and director D.J. Caruso reworked Hitchock's “Rear Window” for the teen set with adequate results in last year's “Disturbia.” With “Eagle Eye,” the two return in an attempt streamline Francis Ford Coppola's “The Conversation” for the text message set.

     

    Call it “The CNVRS8SHN.”

     

    On second thought, don't call it at all. “Eagle Eye,” a project long-shelved by LaBeouf's number-one cheerleader Steven Spielberg, has a kernel of an interesting idea rattling around in its hollow head, but it defaults back to the clamor and clatter of the worst of summer blockbusters.

     

    With visuals that suggest the film was edited in a Jeep traveling at top speed on a cobblestone street, the film does not so much transition but spasms from one scene to the next.

     

    The only reason I sat through the various chases is that I honestly did not know who was in what vehicle and was merely interested in who crawled out of the wreckages. That is very different from 'caring' who did.

     

    LeBeouf (don't ask me to pronounce his name, as I have trouble just spelling it correctly) stars as Jerry Shaw, a copy-center jockey who's called home following the funeral of his twin brother killed while on duty in the military. If movies have taught us anything, it's that having a twin rarely has pleasant, uncomplicated outcomes.

     

    After the funeral, Jerry returns to his hovel to find it redecorated with the Martha Stewart Terrorist Collection, featuring the latest in weapons, explosives and fertilizer. The discovery is quickly followed by a phone call telling him he's been “activated” and has mere seconds to elude an FBI arrest.

     

    He's led on what can only be described as a live-action RPG (role-playing game, for all you geezers out there), in which a faceless female voice directs his every move, while assisting him by manipulating everything from traffic lights to Circuit City Home Theater departments to aid his escape.

     

    He accompanied by a yummy mommy Rachel (played by Michelle Monaghan), who is equally befuddled as to her involvement in all this.

     

    What “Eagle Eye” attempts is to create panic in a world in which our most prized possession – technology – is both our greatest friend and worst enemy. It delivers him the necessary information to elude the “bad guys,” but it also has compiled every instant message, spending habit, website visit and intersection crossing made in the course of our life.

     

    But disembodied voices that inhabit closed-circuit McDonald's televisions and automated parking garage fee signs do not evoke immediate fear from audiences (though Hamburgler can be one scary dude), so we have been given two flesh-and-blood antagonists to occasionally point their guns at our reluctant heroes. Rosario Dawson and Billy Bob Thorton as two Feds in hot pursuit, with Thorton taking on the role of the befuddled, beleaguered agent a la Tommy Lee Jones in “The Fugitive.”

     

    LeBeouf, meanwhile, does his LeBest, which is to say that he injects his usual fast-talking, everyguy style in the face of overwhelming (and downright improbable) odds. It's the same card he's pulled in his other big-budget starring roles in “Transformers” and this summer's “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.” He's not without his charms, but it's hard to notice talent amidst a cacophony of crashing metal and special effects. Monaghan, meanwhile, is reduced to nail-biting and fretting, which is really all she has time for when the camera remains steady for a nanosecond.

     

    The Big Brother paranoia is one rife with thriller possibilities, but “Eagle Eye” opts not to exploit it for all its personal intrusions, but rather replaces it with and Red-Bull-fueled action sequences that numb the senses. It leads to a hacker's fever dream conclusion that is staggeringly idiotic in both explanation and execution.

     

    This year marked the 25th anniversary of the release of the kid-friendly paranoid technological thriller “WarGames,” which, aside from its computer graphics, still manages to evoke some nerve-fraying fun. My guess is, in 2033, when “Eagle Eye” reaches the same age, it will hardly register a blip on the radar.


  • 'Reading' is fun and mental

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful. [What do you think?]
    Under discussion:

    Raising Arizona  (1987)

    True Romance  (1993)

    12 Monkeys  (1995)

    Fargo  (1996)

    Meet Joe Black  (1998)

    The Big Lebowski  (1997)

    The Ladykillers  (2004)

    I can envision moviegoers exiting “Burn After Reading” with the same befuddlement some have stated upon witnessing Joel and Ethan Coen's Oscar-winning “No Country for Old Men.”

    In fact, the directors are gracious enough to have one of the characters (a hilariously deadpan J.K. Simmons) say it for them: “So just what have we learned from all this?”

    His fellow C.I.A. officer squirms and kind of shrugs.

     

    I could sense the audience grumbling in agreement.

     

    But I could not join my fellow patrons in their dissatisfaction, for “Reading” was as unexpected, meandering, and precision-crafted as any of the brothers' comedic outputs. And it was a hell of a lot of fun.

     

    In fact, if I may commit an act of heresy amidst my fellow film-loving friends, I had more enjoyable time here than on my initial viewing of “The Big Lebowski.”

     

    While it may fall in the middle of the Coens comedic library (wedged above “The Hudsucker Proxy” and slightly below “Fargo” -- with “Raising Arizona” being the pinnacle, and “The Ladykillers the nadir), it's worth it if only for the inspired insanity they allow from their cast, better known for its dramatic endeavors.

     

    Those who seek sleek narrative construction in a Coen Brothers film are more likely to find an Oscar on the shelf of Larry The Cable Guy. For they have spent the latter part of their careers rearranging the blocks of structure, repeatedly flipping the bird to cinematic expectations.

     

    They make it clear that in “Reading” we are not entering the world in which you and I dwell. It is far distanced from the harsh realism that soaked “No Country.” Sure, they look like humans we may recognize, but they are more akin to live-action cartoons.

     

    John Malkovich plays an uptight C.I.A. Desk monkey named Osbourne Cox who is unceremoniously dumped from his rather slight job within the agency. In a profanity-filled tantrum, he stomps out, threatening to burn things to its foundation with a scathing tell-all. Unfortunately, Cox is but a mere Dilbert-esque drone whose words ring rather hollow to an indifferent employer.

     

    Things are no better at home, either. His zamboni of a wife (Tilda Swinton) icily plows over his every statement, paving over it with her own dilemmas, like, did he pick up the right cheese for the evening's dinner party. She wants things picture-perfect, for one of the guests in Harry Pfarrer (played by George Clooney), a married, philandering Treasury employee proud of the fact that he's never fired his gun in 20 years of service and an apparent connoisseur of hardwood floors.

     

    As their affair deepens, Cox's wife secretly begins amassing information from her husband's various accounts to hand over to her divorce lawyer. The information is compiled on a compact disc that gets left on the floor of Hardbodies Gym, which had the misfortune of having Chad Feldheimer (played by Brad Pitt) and Linda Lidzke (played by Frances McDormand) as employees.

     

    Chad, with hair piled high like an encroaching tidal wave, gets it into his whiffle-ball-like head that this disc's owner must be really important because there are lots of numbers and codes and stuff located within (to Chad, a disc of Sudoku puzzles would be equally confusing). Linda, who longs for a series of expensive plastic surgeries to battle time is more than happy to be his accomplice in trying to extort cash for the found information.

     

    The series of events that unfold are, at turns, hysterical, violent (sometimes simultaneously), irreverent and irrelevant.

     

    It's the enthusiasm in which each actors attacks his or her role that stokes “Reading's” flames. McDormand is so caught up in her attempts at vanity, she's blind to a fellow employee who not-so-subtly longs for her; Clooney successfully hides his striking features under a number of obnoxious tics and crippling paranoia; Malkovich is at his arrogant best, referring to his self-indulgent musings of life at the agency as his phonetically correct “mem-wah.”

     

    But from the moment he bops onto the screen about 20 minutes into the picture, there is no mistaking that this is Pitt's picture. When confined to such dramatic mush as “Seven Years in Tibet,” “Meet Joe Black” and “Legends of the Fall,” the actor can come off as a stilted mannequin, hired more for marquee value. But throughout his career, in smaller roles such as “True Romance,” and “12 Monkeys” when he's able to let his freak flag fly, Pitt's a comedic tsunami. Nowhere is it more evident than in “Reading.”

     

    Chad is a man so blissfully unaware of just how over his head he is when he hatches his plot, it's surprising that he even remembers to wear pants in public.

     

    What you may not find in “Reading” is something that neatly wraps up it's tale in a traditional fashion. For some, this will be unforgivable, but for those who happily vibe along with the cast until, quite literally, the book is closed on this tale, they will find the eccentric comedy is just the right shade of black.


  • Method Men and 50 Cent

    Was this review helpful? [Be the first to tell us!]
    Under discussion:

    Dick Tracy  (1990)

    Midnight Run  (1988)

    Sea of Love  (1989)

    The Untouchables  (1987)

    Analyze This  (1999)

    Meet The Parents  (2000)

    Showtime  (2002)

    Godsend  (2003)

    Hide and Seek  (2005)

    88 Minutes  (2008)

    Rocky Balboa  (2006)

    Righteous Kill  (2008)

     

    “What are you gonna do? Wheel me out on the 'Geraldo Show' as some freak of the week?” posits a character of the new cop thriller “Righteous Kill.

     

    Wait a minute, Geraldo?

     

    Are you sure that's the pop-culture reference you want to stick with?

     

    Were there licensing problems with Morton Downey Jr? Arsineo did not return calls?

     

    Yes, “Righteous Kill,” arriving in theaters in 2008 is hopelessly mired in elements of two decades ago. For that was an era when stars Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro were at their bankable best: DeNiro followed his larger-than-life turn as Al Capone in “The Untouchables” with the definitive mismatched-buddy film “Midnight Run.” and Pacino was burning up the screen with Ellen Barkin in “Sea of Love” and about to chew on mouthfuls of scenery in “Dick Tracy.”

     

    Had “Kill” been released at that point and time, their union would reach a fever pitch (and drummed up a better box office than its third-place finish this week at theaters).

     

    I am not suggesting the two are past their prime, as I think both have much to contribute to cinema in their twilight years. But instead of slumming through atrocities like Pacino's “88 Minutes” or cheapening their legacy as DeNiro repeated has in both “Analyze This” and “Meet the Parents” and their sequels, they should find a film with more subtle nuance and reflection, just as sexagenarian Sylvester Stallone did in “Rocky Balboa.”

     

    “Righteous Kill” in not that movie. In fact, the title of Pacino's previous film, “Two for the Money,” seems more fitting.

     

    It's an adequate enough vehicle -- stable, drives well – but handles with the thrills of a mini-van.

     

    Pacino and DeNiro are the bizarrely named crime-fighting duo Rooster and Turk, respectively.

     

    After decades on the force, they lament “ones that got away” -- the rapists, drug-pushers and murderers who, by a loopy legal system, squiggle free and return to the streets to commit more crime.

     

    In recent days, though, a serial killer has been dispensing vigilante justice, and a number of perpetrators the cases in which Turk and Rooster oversaw are winding up dead.

     

    Is it a cop, fed up with the system methodically finishing the job the justice system could not seem to do? Is it a lone-wolf groupie who's just trying to lend a hand to the haggard officers? Is it a vengefu... No, it's a cop. The film says so repeatedly within the first 20 minutes. We even see a videotaped confession and the words of the killer.

     

    Of course, a film of this nature live or dies by its last-minute “gotcha” and so “Kill” plods along to its inevitable ending zinger. It may be a twist, but it's not a surprise, as the audience is given a roughly 33.3 percent chance of guessing the limited suspect lineup.

     

    Supporting characters, as expected, are but window dressing – and there's not much light escaping through these panes. There's Carla Gugino as DeNiro's way-too-young love interest (Pacino already had a shot this year at being a mack granddaddy in director Jon Avnet's “88 Minutes,” in which every female within a one-mile vicinity was drawn to him as though he excreted some strange musk). Fitty Cent (here going by his thespian name of Curtis Jackson) may actually end up “Die Tryin'” to be an actor, because he certainly isn't going to “Get Rich” from it.

     

    John Leguizamo and Donnie Wahlberg also stop by to fill out various police-force stereotypes.

     

    And in the center rest DeNiro and Pacino, who have moments where they appear to enjoy one another's company, but there was more electricity generated in the brief five minutes they spent across the diner table in “Heat” than any scene in “Righteous Kill.” Hack director Avnet does little to punctuate the proceedings with anything else.

     

    The film is slightly above most of DeNiro's latter-day output (“Hide and Seek,” “Godsend,” “Showtime”), but with video stores stocked with decades of iconic work from these two Method men, the real crime would be bypassing them for this protracted “Law and Order” episode with two very special guest stars.


  • Stage dive

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful. [What do you think?]
    Under discussion:

    Rushmore  (1998)

    Erin Brockovich  (2000)

    Tropic Thunder  (2008)

    Hamlet 2  (2008)

    I will take the slightly naughty energy of the climactic song “Rock Me Sexy Jesus” from the new film “Hamlet 2” over the shrill teen warblings of any “High School Musical” in a heartbeat.

    It's not the blasphemous blast some might expect from such a title, but it dances the line just enough to keep you riveted as to where it may go next.

    This is predominantly due to the exasperated efforts of the film's lead Steve Coogan, who throws his every last spastic muscle into his role of clueless high school drama teacher Dana Marschz. Coogan, who has yet to break big on this continent, is adored by many in his British home where his vain, tempestuous television character Alan Partridge could have easily passed for a sibling to Ricky Gervais' immortal David Brent in the original “The Office.”

     

    One wishes the film had as much manic manner as Coogan displays.

     

    “Hamlet 2” is filled with devious left-field non-sequiturs, send-ups to inspirational teach films, and broad physical comedy, but these parts never gel to a whole.

     

    Marschz's dream of acting resulted in but a few commercial gigs (which are played in the film's opening, echoing the same structure and eliciting the same laughs as “Tropic Thunder, which Coogan also stars). Alas, since his resume's peak was “Frustrated Juicer User” and “Happy Herpes Sufferer,” his reach for the stars was grounded and now toils away in a teaching gig in Tuscon, Arizona.

     

    His plays, which are based on popular films such as “Erin Brockovich,”(which would be much funnier had it not been done already in “Rushmore”) are hardly the stuff of theatrical inspiration. And when his school's budget ax swings, the drama department is the first on the block.

     

    Marschz meets the news with the typical “pick-yourself-up” pluck that serves as the source for so many a Hollywood drama. But Marschz is a far cry from Mr. Holland, or even a Dead Poet. So his stirring speech to save the program is less a rallying cry than it is a pitiful sob.

     

    And speaking of pitiful, Marschz's home life is in shambles as well, co-existing with a booze-soaked wife (Catherine Keenar) who stays pickled to purge thoughts of her sliver of a life with such a loser. His transportation needs have been reduced to roller skating to work, thanks to a prior DUI conviction, and his stage efforts are often panned by the school's freshman critic in the school paper.


    All of this seems pretty bleak, and were it not for the chipper (or oblivious) attitude of Coogan, it would appear as tragic as the film's eponymous namesake.

     

    But what is sorely missing in the film is any sort of development from any other character. The students are little more than stereotypes (the ultra-religious gal who falls for a bad boy, the closeted gay one, the mute chick who speaks only to deliver an inspirational monologue). The only time it dare plays with these is an amusing bit where Marschz marches to the home of one local ruffian whose parents pull him from the play. He expects them to be layabout drug addicts who don't want their macho son singing on stage, but when he meets them, they are actually literate, well-read PhD holders who object to plays sloppy writing and preposterous storyline (which involves Hamelt, a time machine and Jesus).

     

    Elizabeth Shue factors into the film as well, taking a good-natured shot at her own celebrity, but it hardly feels integral to the overall story.

     

    When it comes to the final performance, which somehow manages to receive backing from the entire student body that rejects his as a clown, Marschz pulls off a show that makes the grotesqueries of Cirque du Soliel look like community theater.

     

    But there is no emotional payoff for the students who have apparently been so transformed by this event. Sure, the music is shockingly funny (it was co-written by Pam Brady, who also co-wrote the “South Park” film), but for a film based in theater, it feels starkly un-theatrical and hollow, just a bunch of aping and mugging for the camera.

    To paraphrase the Bard himself from “Hamlet,”: “Though this be madness, there is no method in't.”


 

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