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A little recycling

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As I stood out front of the Movies at Midway, The Clayton, The Carmike Surf and Sand in Ocean City desperately looking for a new film opening worthy of the tree which perished for this page, I realized that was not even a sapling-worthy title among them that has not already been reviewed.

So, in the interest of becoming even more environmentally friendly in the new year, I am dedicating this column to recycling some titles of films that did not make it to local multiplexes, but are certainly worthy of adding to your Netflix queue or your next visit to the video store.

In no particular order, here are some overlooked gems for every cinematic tastebud. (Click on title to see the trailer for the film)

Once – Reed thin to almost the point of transparency, this Emerald Isle export stars two non-actors (Glen Hansard, singer of the popular Irish band The Frames, and Prague-born Marketa Irglova) as two nameless lonely soles who unite platonically through music. Though there is palpable chemistry between the two, the film never exploits their personal attraction , focusing instead on their mutual love for song. And when they do combine their voices for the film’s many musical numbers, it rivals any big studio’s tenderly shot love scenes.

This is England – For those who thought “American History X” was a terrifying journey into extremist hatred, “England” provides a much more subtle, yet equally startling, descent into the world of skinheads. A troubled lad (a heartbreaking Thomas Turgoose) gets picked on in Thatcher-era Britain and befriends a gang of Doc Marten-donned hooligans who treat him like family. When Combo (a terrifying Stephen Graham) returns to the group from a prison stint, he brings his overtly racist leanings to tear the group apart and force the young lad to choose his true allegiance. An intimate depiction of despair, hope, family and violence that resonates long after the credits roll.

Giuliani Time – Those looking to cast a ballot for “America’s Mayor” owe it to themselves to check out this documentary on the pre-9/11 leader and what some may refer to as his tyrannical reign over the streets of New York City. Even though he continually wants to remind voters of his heroic chest thumping after the attacks, his disregard for many of his own citizens highlights a much different, perhaps power-drunk, side of the man and his role in politics.

You’re Gonna Miss Me – One of the best documentaries in recent memory, this film paints an incredibly intimate portrait of a little-known legend, Roky Erickson, who, with his bad the 13^th Floor Elevators, helped coin the term psychedelic rock. After years of drug use scrambles Roky’s brain and leaves him virtually penniless, his family bands together to help him, but with very different techniques that lead to inter-familial litigation. Taking turns typically found only in a scripted drama, “Miss Me” follows years of intense in-fighting and resolution, leading to Roky’s return to the stage.

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer – Director Tom Twyker (“Run, Lola, Run:) is a visual magician, so much so that he almost brings the sense of smell to the screen (without having to resort to those “Odor-ama” cards, either). Forget those Axe ads you see, this film convinces that smell can drive beings to unspeakable acts. While Dustin Hoffman camps it up in a brief supporting role, the ever-sturdy Alan Rickman anchors this hybrid slasher-period piece that follows the olfactory obsessions of of one Jean-Baptiste Grenouille and his drive to capture the perfect scent.

Isolation – Bear with me as I lay out the plot synopsis of “Isolation”: A genetically engineered cow plays host to a mutated gene that turns its fellow bovines into killers. Yes, killer cows. And the film is not played for laughs. In fact, it is quite riveting. This low-budget Irish film blends just the right elements of “Frankenstein” and “Alien” to create a nightmare that is udderly creepy.

No End in Sight – Regardless of your political views of the current conflict in Iraq, regardless of how many films devoted to the subject you may have seen, this level-headed, thorough, damning account of the ineptitude that led to the war and the bungling of its initial stages is essential. Told by those who were on the front line both figuratively and literally, these men and women recount with disbelief and horror just how ill-prepared we were for how to handle what we started.

Starter for Ten – Perhaps hoping for another “Big Fat Greek Wedding,” Tom Hanks produced this ever-so-slight British comedy of a young man’s dreams of participating in a national game show while balancing a burgeoning love life and an aspiring college career. It is filled with tiny inaccuracies (most notably a soundtrack filled with hits that were written long after the film’s 1985 setting), but for those looking for further proof of the range and charms of James McAvoy (currently setting hearts aflutter in “Atonement”), look no further.

Day Watch – I have watched this film twice and I cannot tell you what the hell it’s about, but I can say that it is true pop-comic nirvana. The plot has something to do with battling tribes of vampires called The Others and a magical piece of chalk, but regardless, this Russian film, the highest-grossing in the post-communist era, is a brain blitzkrieg that will rattle your home theater speakers and put to use every pixel of your new high-definition plasma screen. One wishes the final installments of the “Matrix” movies were this much fun.

First Snow – We’ve all taken playful trips to the palm reader, but what if the prognosticator failed to detect a life line beyond the following week? At first, the cocky, slick salesman Jimmy Starks (played by Guy Pearce) brushes it off, but when some other smaller predictions are realized, he begins a panic that sends him into a downward spiral. The ever-reliable J.K. Simmons (most recognizable as the gruff J. Jonah Jameson in the “Spider-Man” films) creeps in a memorable, albeit brief, performance as the nomadic psychic, and while the conclusion lacks the certain punch that would qualify this for any box office potential, it still manages to balance its metaphysical questions of fate and self-determination without pandering.

The Brothers Solomon – I’m sorry, but if “Knocked Up” hadn’t come along one trimester earlier, “The Brothers Solomon” might have had a better shot at the multiplex this summer. It’s a well-worn concept of two socially inept, but ever-plucky lunkheds forced to fend for themselves in the world ( see “Dumb and Dumber,” “Wayne’s World” or “A Night at the Roxbury”). John (Will Forte and Dean (Will Arnett) are siblings who want to fulfill their dying father’s wish of an offspring. Their misadventures are ridiculous, absurd and nowhere near the realm of reality, yet there is something refreshingly uninhibited about this fractured comedy whose silliness is served without a standard mean streak that can mark similar pictures of its ilk.

Posted Wednesday, January 02, 2008 11:07 AM by usesoap | with 0 comments

The best and the rest of 2007

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The writer’s strike happened at the end of this year, right?

Looking at the list of films released in 2007, I could swear that there is no way in hell someone could have been paid to release some of the films on the list. Honestly, there was someone who was able to purchase a b each house on their paycheck for penning “Delta Farce.” Someone’s kids went to college on the residuals for “Wild Hogs.”

On the other hand, Hollywood did get experimental on a much larger scale – greenlighting such non-traditional theater fare as “Grindhouse” and “Beowulf” and are desperate to try anything to keep from mirroring that financial hemorrhaging that is currently draining the life out of the music industry.

But the end of 2007 may be the best time to drink in the offerings from the cinematic cup, as it may dry up future offerings for the following year if the stalled negotiations between the studios and scribes continue.

Here is but a sampling of some of the best and the rest reviewed on local screens in the past year:

The worst

10) “Shrek the Third,” “Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World’s End,” “Spider-Man 3,” “Rush Hour 3” – To paraphrase an old adage, “You can’t polish a third.”

9) “Mr. Brooks” – This babbling “Brooks” suffered from multiple personality disorder, as it introduced far too many characters to its plot. Kevin Costner, William Hurt and Demi Moore are all sucked down the drain of rancid, festering cinematic waste where their co-star Dane Cook already resides.

8)” The Ex” – A perfect ex-ample of an ex-hausting ex-ecution and an ex-eracble ex-ercise in lowered ex-pectations, this ex-periment in ex-cess is an ex-cursion in cinematic ex-crement. The only way to adequately surmise this film? With ex-pletives.

7) “I Know Who Killed Me” – Twice the Lohan might typically mean one hell of a bar tab, but here it’s an exercise in absurdity that which has the dubious distinction of becoming only the second looniest stripper movie ever made (“Showgirls” still flaunts that tarnished tiara).

6) “The Heartbreak Kid” – Not even copious amounts of Ben Stiller’s “hair gel” could hold this lazy Farrelly Brothers comedy together.

5) “Evan Almighty” – This Noah’s Ark comedy may have God on its side, but without one funny joke, it doesn’t have a prayer.

4)”I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry” – Adam Sandler masks his homophobic humor in a supposed “tolerant” comedy with Kevin James, but there is nothing civil in this union of misogyny, ethnic slurs and Rob Schneider cameos. There is one silver lining – they certainly deserve each other.

3) “The Number 23” – Now, if I were to say Jim Carrey stars as a saxophone-playing dogcatcher, you may think, “Awesome. Ace Ventura is back on the scene!” Trouble is, this was supposed to be a thriller. Sorry, Ace fans, the only talking buttocks provided here are the writers of this woefully miscalculated numeric thriller.

2) “Epic Movie” – The so-called writers of these seemingly endless “Movie” movies now have a formula for their flicks: Random Movie Reference + hip-hop x hits to the groin / empty pop culture reference = hilarity. It’s about as funny as being trapped on an elevator with the guys in your office who still greet you with “Whazzzuuup?” For those who find Larry the Cable Guy too cerebral, here’s the film for you.

1) “Norbit” – While technically not as inept as “Epic Movie,” the combination of deflated expectations and detestable characterizations rocketed “Norbit” to the bottom of the list. With both of Eddie Murphy’s concert films, “Raw” and “Delirious” re-released on DVD this year, it brings a tear to the eye to think this once-brilliant comedian continues to prostitute his name like those streetwalking transvestites of whom he is so fond.

The best

10) “3:10 to Yuma” – It may not have brought about a resurgence in the Western, it certainly snatched it back from the manicured, moisturized hands of those “Young Guns.” Russell Crowe should be contractually obligated at least have a role in all future similarly themed films, as his mix of brawn and bull-headedness put much-needed swagger back in the saddle.

9) “The Simpsons Movie” – In a time where two-dimensional animation was considered dead and buried, our omnipresent family rose from the ashes like a yellow-skinned phoenix and demonstrated that whip-smart writing trumps technology any day. Let’s see those flaccid phonies over at “Family Guy” do that two decades from now.

“Breach” – Chris Cooper will be completely overlooked at awards season for his riveting role as former FBI senior agent Robert Hanssen, which is just as criminal as Hanssen himself. Pious, manipulative and ultimately tragic, Cooper keeps up captivated on his every move to elude his colleagues as he secretly feeds information about his agency overseas. Even though the film’s conclusion had been played out in papers throughout Hanssen’s trial, the film manages to hold the audience captive through every twist of his labyrinth of lies.

7) “Ratatouille” – After the stale exhaust of “Cars” cleared, Pixar returned to form with perhaps one of its most accomplished, nuanced works. With visuals as sumptuous as the meals it describes, “Ratatouille” is yet another feast offered from the Iron Chefs of animation.

6) “Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street” – Johnny Depp and Tim Burton are the Scorsese and DeNiro of this generation. Their most recent outing cuts deep, pulling off an unthinkable hybrid of horror and song with a razor-sharp wit and musical bits as frothy as a can of Barbasol.

5) “Michael Clayton” – George Clooney gives his finest performance without having to lose a fingernail to pliers. It’s slow and steady, which hypothetically should win a race or two. But it’s diminutive box office will unfortunately leave it behind for future generations to deem it classic.

4) “Grindhouse” – I know it’s two films. I know that one (“Planet Terror”) is inferior. But this was the single-most loving tribute to the actual long-lost art of watching movies as a communal experience. And while “Terror’s” director, Robert Rodriguez got all the superficial elements of the era right (the missing reel, the grainy, choppy print), it was Quentin Tarantino’s “Death Proof” that gave us the authentic rush of watching a loving homage to the genre. Now that they have been severed and sold separately for their DVD release, they would not appear on the list. But for the time that they both shared the screen with a handful of mock exploitation trailers, it was pure geek bliss.

3) “Into the Wild” – One of those Halley’s Comet moments where the film exceeds the book, “Wild” follows a clueless little rich boy on his self-absorbed nature walk into the harsh Alaskan terrain. While director Sean Penn’s lens may incite viewers to answer their own call of the wild, Emile Hirsch’s heartbreaking performance may have them readjusting their travel agendas.

2) “Eastern Promises” – Sorry, but director David Cronenberg’s “A History of Violence” has nothing on this layered Eastern Bloc crime drama. “Promises” got lots of notoriety for star Viggo Mortensen exposing his little hobbit in a bathhouse sequence, but his performance is equally naked. He’s a man trapped in a world of violence, but who also appreciates the beauty of life on the other side. It’s a film that blossoms wider the more it is examined.

1) “No Country for Old Men” – Reminding us why they matter as filmmakers, siblings Joel and Ethan Coen have created a modern rumination on life, death, fate and life’s meaning (if any) is stark and desolate in every sense of the word (minutes tick by without one note of a soundtrack to manipulate its audience). In Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) ,it also introduces us to one cinema’s most chilling killing machines in more than a decade. A deep mediation of America’s ever-changing landscape and man’s search for his place within it.

Posted Wednesday, January 02, 2008 11:06 AM by usesoap | with 0 comments

'I Am' not impressed

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Will Smith on-screen career has been one big dramatization of the Declaration of Independence.He’s fought for his life (“Enemy of the State”), liberty (“Independence Day”) and last year sought his “Pursuit of Happyness.” He’s even taken that part about “unalienable rights” quite literally while battling space invaders in “Men in Black.”

His latest film, “I am Legend” takes the document’s opening line quite literally as well, where it mentions about establishing a new political power when the current one is considered “destructive.” Considering the government itself has been destroyed (along with about 93 percent of the world’s population), taking charge is exactly what his character does.

We first meet the former Fresh Prince as he confidently zips through New York City streets at top speed in a souped-up sportscar. It’s a sight we’ve become accustomed to in a Will Smith movie, but there is something slightly off here.

Wild grasses poke out of the pavement, animals dart through graveyards of stalled vehicles in the middle of city streets and Smith’s typical pity one liners are heard only by his faithful German Shepherd named Sam.It seems that a miracle drug believed to be the cure for cancer mutated into a virus that shook up the population like an Etch-a-Sketch.Oopsie.

Now military scientist Robert Neville (Smith) may be the last man standing after building up immunity while looking to cure the “cure.”And so his days are spent roaming the streets, stockpiling necessities, quipping with Sam and otherwise trying to remain sane. The latter is getting increasingly difficult, though.

He commandeers an AM radio station, broadcasting a plea for anyone within earshot, ending his statement with “You are not alone.” We are left to wonder is this is to reassure the listener or himself.He knows he’s certainly not the last being in the city. As the daylight dims, the streets become flooded with humanoid vampires – an apparent side effect to the drug (note to self, always listen to the side effects warnings on drug commercials for one that says “May cause vampirism.”). They seemed to have tapped the veins of every other living survivor and are on the prowl for Neville.

The problem with “Legend” begins and ends with these beasts’ inclusion. Sure, it’s creepy to include the threat of ravenous mutants lurking in the dark of an otherwise vacant city, but did they have to look so computer generated? Seriously, the “Weekly World News’” Bat Boy was more terrifying than these “Resident Evil” video-game rejects.Aside from an initial encounter with these pale, veiny globs of pixels, they immediately take the viewer out of the film every time they enter the frame. It’s a shame, too.

Prior to their arrival, director Francis Lawrence (“Constantine”) begins his film on a very intimate tone, following Neville on his daily quest for purpose and meaning. And in these smaller moments, Smith does some of his best work. We see the typical bravado as it begins to chip off like the plaster on so many of the film’s now-vacant buildings.

All intimacy is lost midway through, as Lawrence kicks into full Big Willie Style, sending Smith to doge and react to green screen images in a number of deafening action sequences.

This is the third go-round for the 1954 sci-fi novel from Richard Matheson (it was first released as “The Last Man on Earth” in 1964, then remade about a decade later as “The Omega Man”). It’s by far the most lavish take on book, and the one that comes closest to its subtext of isolation and necessity for contact.

But when a trio computer animated singing rodents in the next theater over are more lifelike and engaging than the supposedly terrifying creatures of this film, you know you’re in trouble. Perhaps the producers could swap notes with the makers of the “Alvin” movie and create “I am Chipmunk” for the sequel.

For Smith, now he can get to work on that long-awaited series of films based on constitutional amendments. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to a riveting dramatization on the 23^rd Amendment which grants the District of Columbia (Washington D.C.) the right to three electors in Presidential elections titled “He’s the DJ, I’m the President.”

Posted Wednesday, January 02, 2008 11:05 AM by usesoap | with 0 comments

Down and dirty "Old Men'

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“No Country for Old Men” opens with a scene of quiet cruelty in which hired hitman Anton Chigurh (played with muted meanness by Javier Bardem) escapes his police captors. While handcuffed and seated, he robotically rises from his chair and wraps his chains around the neck of an unsuspecting deputy. They fall to the floor where Chigurh tightens his grip and looks skyward in an orgasmic rush as his victim flails.

His unflinching, voiceless visage sets the tone for the entire film, for he is a man of limited dialogue and singular purpose.

His mission is to retrieve a satchel of cash that was left behind in a Texas drug deal gone awry. He is eerily similar to Michael Meyers in the original “Halloween” – a hulky mass with an assured, deliberate stride. The exception is that instead of a mask, we actually have a look into his onyx-colored eyes that are sharp with focus but dulled to inflicting or receiving pain.

One who have mistakenly stumbled onto Chigurh’s path is Llewelyn Moss (played by Josh Brolin, continuing his triumphant trifecta in 2007 here, as well as “American Gangster and “Grindhouse.”), a retired welder out hunting when he spies the remnants of a Mexican standoff complete with a truck full of drugs and a case containing about $2 million.Llewelyn views the literal blood money as an escape from his trailer park existence and embarks on a journey to keep it hidden as he makes getaway plans for him and his wife.

The drug deal also attracts the attention of the cusp-of-retirement Sheriff Bell (embodied by Tommy Lee Jones in yet another glove-fitting role for the actor). Bell is not the stereotypical “I’m-getting’-too-old-for-this-sh**” officer, but a real human, haggard by the cancerous criminal elements that have eaten away at his tiny community.And while the scenario may sound rather slight in synopsis form, you can rest assured that from the pen of author Cormac McCarthy and the eyes of Joel and Ethan Coen, “Country” is anything but.What is most interesting about the film is that despite the rich language of which McCarthy is capable, the film version is remarkable more for what is not said. Stretches of eerie silence tighten the film’s vice-like grip on its audience.

In the past decade, the Coens have turned their characters into flesh cartoons. They’re given dialogue no human would say and surround them with absurdities not relatable to the real world.But by hitting the “mute” button in “Country,” the Coens focus on their startling skills as visual craftsmen. They stage scenes with such creeping – and, at times, sudden – intensity, it almost elicits shouts at the screen, just to break the tension.

While all involved are worthy of their material, it is Bardem who makes the most indelible mark as the remorseless killer. His broad frame is offset by a deceivingly boyish Prince Valiant haircut. And his weapon of choice is a pneumatic hole puncher with a tank of compressed air, a tool typically used for killing cattle at a slaughterhouse.

It is a fitting tool for Chigurh – fast, quiet and an object that helps feed his hunger. It’s all unquestionably brutal, and even the film’s quiet moments are offset by an impending dread. But it is a film that rattles its viewers long after the comfort of the house lights glow. “No Country for Old Men” is no movie for wussies of any age.

Posted Wednesday, January 02, 2008 11:04 AM by usesoap | with 0 comments

'Into' : Deep

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I think almost everyone, at one point in his or her life, suffered from a “London Calling.” Or, at the very least, a “Kerouac Attack.”

The authors Jack London and Jack Kerouac had both written of life that shirked modern shackles of society and the beauty of breaking free from the comforts of the daily grind.Christopher McCandless followed this primordial impulse and, despite his well-to-do upbringing and college education, decided to Theroux everything out the window and embark on an ambulatory adventure that would end – rather tragically – in the Alaskan wilderness.

“Outside” magazine writer and author Jon Krakauer exhaustively retraced the bootprints of this young man in his 1997 tome of the same name. A decade later, director Sean Penn has adapted it for the big screen and may be one of the those rare instances in which the film actually exceeds the book.While a great admirer of the journalistic fortitude involved with Krakauer’s piece, I was always bugged about a two elements of McCandless’s story.

First, McCandless always came across like a bit of a dolt. As a lover of the outdoors, I can admire its beauty for extended stretches, so long as I am accompanied by my comfy thermal Columbia hiking boots, my North Face dual-door tent and my REI goose-down sleeping bag. I know to respect that it’s no playground. But the suburban-bred McCandless knew the wilderness only from the romanticized pages from his favorite authors.

It was surprising to me he lasted out there as long as he did.

His fate was quite similar to that of Timothy Treadwell, the numbskull who decided to lay down with a pack of wild ursine in the documentary “Grizzly Man.” With absolutely no scientific background, Treadwell set up camp amongst these ferocious beasts. In his home movies, he was seen speaking to them as if they were some unruly domesticated put that peed on the carpet. He was eventually mauled and eaten by them.

Penn made it a point in his film to highlight that McCandless’s backpack was filled with items given to him by friends he encountered on his travels. Were it not for the kindness of strangers, he would have perished much sooner than he did.It is a theme that is becomes the film’s thrust, as some of McCandliss’s final scribblings is that the natural beauty he encountered meant little if there is no one with which to share it. Just ask Ted Kaczynski.

The other aspect of the book that troubled me was the chapters devoted to Christopher’s solo exploits when he takes residence in an abandoned bus seemingly plopped down on an Alaskan mountainside. Much like the fishermen in Sebastian Junger’s “A Perfect Storm,” we really have no idea what those men said or did in their final days and hours. It’s all from the minds of the author. And as gifted a writer as Krakauer is, he was not there to document the proceedings – merely guess at them.

Penn wisely breaks this portion of the book up into fragments, and parsing out his final days throughout the film. Narratively, it does a better job “suggesting” what his actions may have been based on his past encounters living off the grid.

Emile Hirsch is a choice candidate for the role, as his slightly puffy, unblemished facial features and thick Hollywood hair suggest a life of modest luxury that McCandless was afforded financially. His deterioration into a gaunt, ashen hermit by the film’s end is startling.

Of the characters encountered by McCandless throughout his journey, the most interesting on screen are leftover hippies Jan and Rainey (played Catherine Keener and Brian Dieker, a whitewater rafting guide with no acting experience who Penn met on vacation) and the grandfatherly Ron (played by Hal Holbrook), a repentant widower who desperately reaches out to Christopher and perhaps sees the lad as his last shot at redemption.

Do not be surprised to see Holbrook on many awards’ lists this season.

Penn does not romanticize McCandless or his choices. He’s merely along for the ride. Lucky for us, the ride is one in which Penn invests fully and captures with sincerity, integrity and perches us on the precipice with McCandless, letting us breathe in the beauty but witness its indiscriminate cruelty in equal measure.

Posted Wednesday, January 02, 2008 11:02 AM by usesoap | with 0 comments