JJ79

Under discussion:

Couples Retreat  (2009)

Eight friends, all coupled, find themselves on a Couples Retreat under the guise of a fun, adult vacation in Eden. As it turns out, there's one small hitch: each are required to meet with counselors and work on their relationships. Not all of them are happy about it and, in fact, the two who put the trip together (Jason Bateman, Kristen Bell) are in the most treacherous waters after failing to conceive a child. Dave and Ronnie (Vince Vaughn, Malin Akerman) have two boys at home but no time for themselves. Recently divorced Shane (Faizon Love) is dating a 20-something named Trudy (Kali Hawk) who wants to dance and drink and have fun. And then there's Joey and Lucy (Jon Favreau, Kristen Davis), a couple intending to divorce once their daughter goes to college.

With so many characters and storylines, director Peter Billingsley's second directorial outing has the talent to be successful and an absolutely beautiful location to work with, but feels overstuffed and "normal." It's in the first ten or fifteen minutes we see the eventual problem with the story: too much to do and not enough time to do it in. Small scenes of exposition are laid out on the screen designed to demonstrate the marital issues between each couple. And the film has the service all four storylines for the entire running time, almost as if juggling firecrackers and hoping not to miss one. We're never allowed to get to know these people as people; rather, they're just pieces to be moved from one place to another to get to the finale. The unintended byproduct of too much going on if the story takes the easy way out for each couple without asking them (and the audience) to really examine each partnership.

It should be said at the outset that the location shooting in Bora-Bora is absolutely stunning. Billingsley is able to turn the camera in nearly any direction and capture the wondrous beauty of the ocean and island. If anything, Couples Retreat can serve as a calling card for the island as a tourist location. Clear blue ocean, pure white sand, seemingly perfect weather all the time, villas with floor ports to watch the fish in the ocean...at least one part of the film lives up to the billing.

In the beginning segment, the story moves from Dave not being interested in picking out new tile with Ronnie to Shane pleading with Dave to co-sign for Trudy's motorcycle (she calls him Daddy...) to Jason and Cynthia (Bateman, Bell) working on their Eden power point presentation for their friends while Lucy and Joey can barely stand to look at one another. Now, each of these are valid relationship issues which deserve to be investigated in depth. They come into play throughout the film as the characters personify their relationships. For example, Jason and Lucy plan everything with graphs and analysis, a frustrating way to live to be sure. There is no spontaneity for them, no deviation from the norm. And the story keeps hammering it into our heads. Over and over again. Jason adheres rigorously to a schedule created by the group's counselor Marcel (Jean Reno), including when they can and can not eat or drink. One gets the feeling that, if he could put away the calendar and plans for a minute, he and Cynthia wouldn't have that hard a time conceiving. For a time, he comes off as the most sane one in the group. They are clearly in love, fully aware of their failings and open to working on them. Not that the others aren't aware. They just choose not to confront them.

Just like the film's chooses not to let the actors shine in the way they can. Only the men are given anything meaningful to do; Akerman has a substantial role as well, but even Ronnie devolves into a giggling, drooling caricature by the finale. It's unfortunate both Bell and Davis are basically wasted since they can stand up to their respective husbands and engage in witty conversation. Most of these people have been together for long periods of time. As such, they should know how to get under one another's skin. But they don't. I can't believe they have too much respect for one another, especially considering what is said both on the singles side of the island and in therapy. They're restrained, civil, unlike what people are in real life. Had they gone at it, David and Favreau could have handled anything given to them. An early scene setting up their relationship proves the point. Both are able to be pointed and witty. So why not let them?

Couples Retreat paints with a broad brush in both the serious relationship storyline and in the humor which dots each and every scene. It's not enough for yoga instructor Salvadore (the impossibly ripped Carlos Ponce) to demonstrate each position. He has to make them all sexual in nature, thrusting, pulsating and pounding the men and women. A true yoga instructor, you'd have to imagine, would be fully cognizant of how the moves would be seen, adjusting accordingly. When Marcel tells the group to remove their masks (aka their clothing), it's played as a joke instead of the horrific moment it should have been. Who, after all, wants to see their friends naked? (A minor quibble: the instruction is to remove all clothing. Boxers, bras and panties are left on. I know this is a PG-13 flick and these actors aren't going to do full frontals, but at least mention underwear so it doesn't look like everyone on the screen is a total idiot.)

Since it goes over-the-top so much in every aspect, it's impossible to know what the story is really getting at. Are we supposed to be watching scenes from real marriages, amped up a bit for the screen? Or a farce, in which case the finale is hideously out of place? The ending...as if there's any doubt how it's going to end. To be honest and truthful to the subject matter, at least one couple needs to split. But none do. Okay, that's not exactly truthful. One does and through plot machinations, both end up happier. And one leaves coupled.

Speaking of the comedy, it's hard not to point out the places the script uses convenience over truth to advance itself. After breaking into Dave's house, Jason starts a conversation centering on divorce and other uncomfortable subjects. Of course, as children always do, Dave's kids find themselves on the stairs, literally pushing Dave and Ronnie out the door. Hell, they've even called grandpa already to take care of them. And the minute grandpa's name is spoken aloud...yup, the doorbell rings. Really? Sub-ten-year-old kids worried about their parents splitting up, going so far as to call themselves a caretaker? Um, okay... (A running gag about one son and display toilets may be the funniest thing in the film.)

The composition of the group is maddeningly "normal." When a film like this purports to show marriages and relationships on the verge of destruction, varying up the participants helps the marketing potential and the texture differences bring. Couples Retreat features six white people and two black. All straight. All middle class (possibly upper middle or upper in the case of Jason and Cynthia). No one from the other side of the tracks. That's terribly boring. Now, imagine the yoga scene I described before with a gay couple. Or an interracial pair. How about a relationship with three people? More comedy possibilities, not to mention showcasing something besides the norm.

Under discussion:

GNAW  (2009)

THE FLICK
The horror genre on film goes back, roughly, to the 1890's and Le Manoir du diable by Georges Méliès. In the intervening years, filmmakers from across the globe have tried to put their spin on the genre, some successfully and some...well, less so. In the last decade or so, there is a new school of thought which equates blood and gore with horror at the expense of rational, logical decision making. Wes Craven's Scream series pointed this out to great effect, yet some people still haven't taken the hint. It's not enough to carve up a half dozen teenagers in the middle of nowhere anymore. Nor is it enough to pay lip service to the things they should be doing to survive the film. Rather, horror films (and the associated sub-genre's of chiller, slasher and torture, among others) need to create a realistic world for the characters and audience to get caught up in. The British import Gnaw does none of these things and opts, instead, to be one part slasher and one part gross out flick.

As with most films in the genre, Gnaw starts out with a group of six teens heading out into the middle of nowhere, where they are systematically killed off because they have no idea how slasher pics work. Seriously, this is the modern day United Kingdom. Doesn't anyone watch a movie or television show? Don't you know the minute you decide to go off into the country you will end up dead? How many times do we have to see one person (in this case, the movie's lone asset, the Slaughterman) killing the entire group when, by all rights, at least one person should survive the carnage? Oh no, Gnaw doesn't stop there. On top of being mind numbingly banal, it has the audacity to think it has the smarts to bring cannibals into the story. Cannibals! It's not director Gregory Mandry who's the problem. Nope, it's the "been there, seen that" script by Michael Bell and Max Waller which cuts off its own foot in the before the marathon even starts.

Gnaw doesn't just tip its hand far, far too early (the bad guy is shown at the very beginning of the film); it has no hand to tip. See, nothing in the film feels remotely original. It may be the lack of any true story arc. Mandry tries to make a case for the arc being Slaughterman's obsession with Lorrie (Sara Dylan)-who is pregnant, by the way-with Jack's (Nigel Croft-Adams) kid. Alas, Jack's girlfriend Jill (Rachel Mitchem) doesn't know this. And she doesn't get the chance to figure it out precisely because the script doesn't deem it important. So much for that story arc, right? All the characters are merely a distraction and cannon fodder for Slaughterman. If the only rationale for the story is to watch people die, is that worth it?

It's not, in case there was a doubt. There is no bottom to the story, nothing to propel it forward with any meaning. Typically, that reason would either be a story arc or character development. Since we've ruled out a story arc, then it must be the wonderfully complex characters, right? Wrong. They simple run from place to place-usually alone-and get massacred. And that supposed story arc? It's non-existent precisely because Slaughterman has no personality. He's just a killer, grinding up his prey into meat pies. Freddy Krueger had a motive. Jason Voorhees had a motive. Michael Myers...heck, even the shark(s) in the Jaws films. Slaughterman? Eh, there's nothing on television.

I apologize if it sounds as though I'm being hyperbolic. Gnaw doesn't do much right. The acting is categorically over the top, especially Croft-Adams as Jack. Loud, grating and obnoxious, Jack is the jock of the pic without anything particular jock-y to do. Bell and Waller are unable to do anything but paint with the broadest of strokes. Each character has one, maybe two, defining personality traits. Asthmatic Matt (Oliver Lee Squires) pines for Lorrie...and that's all we know about him. Jill is just as shrill as Jack and prudish on top of that. And so on. Everyone involved seems to have a cognitive disconnect about what a horror movie is. Yes, blood and guts, but scary blood and guts which puts the audience in the position of the characters. We can identify with some of the characteristics, but simultaneously can't wait for the six leads to die so the end credits can roll.

By the way, here's a note for future filmmakers who want to dabble in this genre. If you're going to commit to a slasher film, you need to be willing and able to show slashing. Especially if your characters and plot are worthless. Gnaw shows precious little of its alleged blood-letting. It even tries, if you read between the lines, to up the scare ante by not showing knives cutting into bodies or other acts. But that philosophy is to the film's overall detriment. Something has to make people want to see the flick. Jaws doesn't feature a lot of blood or violence, yet it works because the tension from the menace is there. Slaughterman has no hope of being iconic or thrilling. One well placed whack to the head and he should be down for the count. Try that with a shark.

The intention was for every element in the film to come off as being realistic to the modern day, at least according to Mandry. That's why a cell phone is used to take a short video of Lorrie and Matt makes a point to check his cell phone when the group arrives at the country house. I guess the script should get some props for thinking of the cell phone angle even if it doesn't quite get around to thinking about anything else. Why go back to a car which doesn't start in order to escape? Didn't any of these kids tell parents where they were going? And when they don't return, no one mounts a search and rescue, which would invariably lead right to Slaughterman and Mrs. Obadiah (Carrie Cohen)? A credits sequence suggests these two have been at their killing rampage for years and years. Apparently, there are over 200,000 cases of missing persons in the UK every year. Some people are recovered alive and others aren't. There's not a lick of information about where they might have gone? Really?

THE LOOK
There is a distinctive look to films produced outside of America. They tend to have a color palette veering into red/brown territory and slight picture softness. Neither of those hallmarks are actual transfer issues and need to be removed from the discussion when talking about Gnaw. Instead, the anamorphic picture is generally well done with no visible scratches or blemishes. Black crush plays a part in further diminishing texture and detail in dark scenes. While we can make out some specifics, a lot of the film-especially the background-is hard to see. The black's tend to be a bit too bright also, making them more gray than actually black. Fleshtones are acceptable keeping in mind all the picture caveats.

THE SOUND
The disc includes both an English 5.1 mix as well as a 2.0 versions. Both are clean and free of distractions, allowing the dialogue to come through clearly. (This is especially important considering the English accent of all the actors.) Very early on in the 5.1 iteration the use of the rear speakers jumps to the forefront. Scratching and clawing sounds, not to mention mental-on-metal, enhance the main title sequence. From then on, these ambient sounds are toned down a bit in favor of the front speakers. Directional effects are relatively sparse, usually coming in the form of a car driving down the road and not other sounds going across the screen. The track also does a very good job in balancing the score, sound effects and dialogue, making sure one does not overpower the other. English subtitles are included.

THE STUFF
One note about the run time on the box art: Gnaw is purported to clock in at 90 minutes. The film itself lasts for roughly 74 minutes.

Now then, director Gregory Mandry doesn't have a lot to say in the feature-length commentary. He either doesn't have the necessary anecdotes and behind-the-scenes information with him or he's not quite sure these kinds of things work. Long gaps in the film go by with nothing from him, essentially making the audience watch the production for a second time. When he does interject, the information isn't terribly compelling. The movie took 2 weeks to shoot, certain sequences kept getting expanded, the coldest day of the year (that always happens when a film is shooting, it seems like) and the startling fact he had a relatively closed set for the sex scenes. Mandry needs someone to play off of or, at the very least, a good stack of notes about his film.

The nearly ten minute making of is world's better in terms of providing background trivia, however lame and useless it might be. There are references here to the nursery rhyme allusions in the movie (Jack and Jill, for instance), the drive to make Slaughterman as iconic as Freddy or Jason (psst...EPIC FAIL, as the kids say) or the crew patting themselves on the back for keeping Slaughterman out of the picture for as long as they did (Ridley Scott. Alien. Check it out.). This is the kind of stuff that should have been in the commentary. A terribly spoilery trailer for the movie is also included. The film comes in a clear keepcase without an insert. There are 13 chapter stops.

Under discussion:

Paranormal Activity  (2009)

Made for an estimated $11,000, Paranormal Activity follows the model set forth by The Blair Witch Project, utilizing non-actors, limited sets and a small handful of thriller moments to create a tense, if somewhat faulty, chiller. The central conceit of the film is simple: Micah and Katie (Micah Sloat, Katie Featherston) are haunted by a demon. In an effort to document their problems, Micah invests in a video camera and uses it nearly all the time. And that is how the first half hour of Paranormal Activity plays out, as an attempt to introduce the characters and situation to the audience. From there, writer/director Oren Peli slowly weaves in the scares, at first small sounds and eventually culminating in...well, that would be ruining it.

Perhaps by design, Peli doesn't allow either Micah or Katie to really develop as characters. There's nothing to really tell the audience what makes them tick or why they're actually together. It might not be completely necessary, though looking back at the classics in the horror genre, each have allowed their characters to become people as opposed to caricatures. (Blair Witch-this film's obvious inspiration-is an exception.) Why does this really matter? Knowing and therefore caring about the leads heightens the impact of each scare above and beyond what we'd experience otherwise. Again, this may be by design. Not knowing anything about the two adds to the anonymity, not to mention the alleged "true story" nature of the film.

Here's the rub on the way the film is shot. Everything we see comes from Micah's video camera, meaning he or Katie have to grab it whenever the action shifts to another location. I have to ask: if someone you care about is screaming bloody murder in another room, are you really going to stop to grab a camera before going to help? Even if you need hard evidence something is going on? Far more realistic is either calling a news crew with multiple cameras or buying them yourself to monitor all the rooms at the same time. Is that a nitpick? Probably, though even Katie takes Micah to task over his use of the camera, making it less of a nitpick and more of a conceit.

What the film does extraordinarily well is using night vision filming inside the bedroom. With the camera positioned at the foot of the bed, Peli is able to stage most of the scares very simply and easily. Night vision almost by definition means the room is seen in an eerie blue/green, heightening the scare factor. After all, that is why most horror movies take place at night: for the thrills to work, we can't see what's behind the door, in the next room or in the corner. Peli lets us "see" what's there, for lack of a better term, even if it doesn't help. This, I'd argue, enhances each scare. There are only a few things which could happen in the room and our eyes inadvertently dart from one to the other, simply waiting.

And that's the beauty of Paranormal Activity in the long run. The movie is a success based purely on economics, but it's also a triumph in viral marketing and expectation. Relatively little "scary" happens in the first part of the story aside from a false alarm and a couple house noises which may be completely normal. It lures us into a false sense of security, as if the entirety of the thrills come from benign little things so when the big stuff begins, it pales in comparison, effectively jolting the audience (not to mention Micah and Katie). As a function of the budget, the cast is kept extremely small and precious few sets are used. In fact, the camera only ventures outside once. The rest of the film takes place in their house. Not only are they trapped with this demon, but so are we. Based purely on the rules laid out in the story, there is nowhere they can actually be safe.

Now, with that being said, they can do a hell of a lot more to help themselves. Remember how, in older horror films, the nubile young female runs into a closet to escape the killer, with the audience knowing it was the wrong place to go? Also remember how Scream made fun of those conventions? No one runs the wrong way in Paranormal Activity, per se. That ends up being the biggest issue: characters performing well below audience expectations, especially when life and death hands in the balance. (Similarly, it doesn't help that the biggest and best scares come in the last 120 seconds of the film. The filmmakers are trying to play with our expectations, to be sure, ramping up what they show ever so slightly. But man...to make the audience sit through 90-something minutes of amateur home video like Cloverfield to get to the good part? Not the best idea.)

Under discussion:

Not Quite Hollywood  (2008)

THE FLICK
Exploitation cinema refers to a film genre which cashes in on some sort of lurid, perhaps sexy, element. Blaxploitation may be the most well known iteration of this genre with films like Superfly, Sweet Sweetback's Badasssss Song and Blacula. These films don't rely on a "name" star or special effects to draw in the crowds; rather, they use over-the-top marketing techniques and outrageous statements to generate ticket sales. Slasher films, like Halloween or A Nightmare on Elm Street, can be considered exploitation films with their small budgets and and graphic kills. However, no one ever mentions Ozploitation, a group of films written, shot and released in Australia by Australian filmmakers. These films were largely created after the introduction of the R certificate (similar to the "R" MPAA rating in the United States) in 1971 and feature gratuitous nudity, sex and violence. Not Quite Hollywood traces the evolution of the genre, as well as its major cinematic entries, for the uninitiated.

Mark Hartley's film takes a no-holds-barred approach to the material, demanding the audience follow along without being pandered to. That isn't as much a problem as the fact most Americans will be unfamiliar with the names and films being talked about. Yes, film can usually transcend languages, countries and culture, but when the subject matter deals with obscure productions, it needs to slow down just a bit to frame the narrative properly. There are moments when Hartley does a spectacular job using the interviews and film clips to create a picture of a nascent Australian film industry and its relative success over the decades, though Not Quite Hollywood is squarely aimed at audiences with a working knowledge of film history.

As an example, late in the production, one-time James Bond actor George Lazenby is brought on to speak about The Man from Hong Kong, a 1975 film starring Yu Wang. While hardcore filmgoers will know Lazenby's claim to fame is portraying 007, Hartley makes no mention of the background. Any number of other films are name dropped, including Jaws, Piranha and Psycho...but not On Her Majesty's Secret Service (Lazenby's only stab at the character)? Did MGM require a clearance or license fee to use the name or did Harley assume the audience would know who he was? The actor also burned his hand during filming and, while footage of the stunt from the film is shown, there is no accompanying insert shot of the hand. Regardless of whether or not it has healed completely, it would have added to the story.

Roughly broken down into four divisions (sex, action, monsters and martial arts), Hollywood almost giddily revels in it's B-movie subject matter. Be warned, this doc isn't for the faint of heart or easily offended with a plethora of naked breasts, full frontal nudity (male and female), generous discussion about "boobies" and "titties," cursing, misogyny and violence. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Because there was no Australian film industry, the films which went into production had very low budgets, reducing the overall quality of the work. Each director laments this inevitability, though none of them really apologize for their films. In every interview, there is an overriding sense these men reinvigorated the profession and took it back from foreigners who were making films about Australia without knowing the land. Funnily enough, when Aussies began to use their country as it was, audiences began mortified, afraid the rest of the world would believe it really was a desolate wasteland like Mad Max or full of bimbo's and sex-starved citizens.

Throughout the dozens of interviews, participants and film clips, one thing Hartley is unable to do is place the Ozploitation films within historical context. Surely other Aussies were making higher quality, mainstream films at the same time these B-movie, bargain basement flicks were on the screen. What were they? How did the other films incorporate the R certificate? Was there an audience backlash against the nudity and profanity? (Critics has issues with both of these things, but the audiences are rarely spoken about.) See, nothing occurs in a vacuum; there is always cause and effect, a push and pull. Hartley's sole focus is on the films which make up this sub-genre to the exclusion of nearly everything else. Surely someone was influenced by these stories and made their own homage. An unauthorized Italian sequel to Patrick doesn't really count. Where are those anecdotes?

It's funny, in a way, that few of the people involved with the Ozploitation era comes off as embarrassed or apologetic for their work. This is despite knowing the production values are relatively poor, behind-the-scenes issues or the general reaction to the film itself. Even when the shooting schedule and budget were severely slashed (as in Roadgames and Turkey Shoot), there is a sense both films deserve awards. If anything, there's a hubris to the creative talent which is unable to see the forest for the trees. Perplexing to be sure and just slightly dishonest.

What can not be questioned is the depth and breadth of the information presented in Not Quite Hollywood, especially the inclusion of Quentin Tarantino. An uber-film buff if there ever was one, Tarantino is the marquee interviewee (though both Lazenby and Jamie Lee Curtis make appearances) displaying unbridled, wide-eyed enthusiasm for each and every film mentioned. To see him almost jump up and down in his seat while discussing Dead-End Drive Inn or Roadgames is nearly worth the price of admission on its own.

THE LOOK
Like any other documentary, Not Quite Hollywood's visual performance is largely at the mercy of the footage it uses. On the whole, the film looks incredibly good with shifting aspect ratios, stock footage mixed with new interviews and even some black and white film. The film is mainly presented in anamorphic widescreen format without any major problems. Fleshtones of interview participants tend to be a touch bright from time to time, though the blacks are generally spot on. The new footage is otherwise clean of blemishes or other problems. It's the movie clips and vintage interviews which pose a problem. They sport all manner of defects from pops and wear lines to downright blurriness and general picture softness. This shouldn't be held against the disc, considering the state of Australian cinema when they were produced.

THE SOUND
Normally, I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Magnolia Home Entertainment provides both an English 2.0 and 5.1 mix on the disc. What's wrong with that, you might ask? Well, this is a documentary, a dialogue-driven film by definition. There isn't much to gain by pumping audio through five speakers instead of two. In most cases, creating a surround sound mix hampers the film by stretching the available audio information too broadly. Here, though, both versions work equally well in bringing the dialogue across without distortion. Naturally, the 5.1 mix has more bass throughout, especially as cars or buildings begin exploding in film clips. There aren't many directional sound effects and both options can be more than a bit forceful at times. The only real issue is the lack of English subtitles; Spanish subs are provided.

THE STUFF
Not Quite Hollywood comes in a regular black keepcase with no inserts. Upon start up, trailers for Ong Bak 2, The Canyon, World's Greatest Dad and the HDNet network play (they are also available under the Special Features menu). The film itself is broken down into a dozen chapters.

Director Mark Hartley moderates a spliced together commentary track featuring many of the directors and personalities seen in the film itself. These men-whether in the recording booth or by phone-seem more open and free to discuss the Australian film industry. In particular, they're more than happy to discuss being pigeonholed as the "sex director" or perhaps being too happy in pushing the new R certificate. Some films (Turkey Shoot, for example) find themselves defended-this was a flick with a slashed budget and shooting schedule many cast members disowned during production-while none of the filmmakers have a love for critics.

Hartley collects deleted and extended scenes on the disc. In fact, there's 21 separate pieces, ranging in run time from under a minute to over five. (A play all option is included.) It's really a shame these cuts had to be made for unspecified reasons. Among the films profiled, 1986's Sky Pirates is among the most intriguing. A near rip off of Indiana Jones, writer John Lamond apparently had a running feud with Steven Spielberg over box office success. Suffice to say, Sky Pirates didn't do as well as the Indy flicks. Interestingly, a segment about E.T. alum Henry Thomas' film Frog Dreaming is completely cut.

Quention Tarantino and director Brian Trenchard-Smith hang out in a movie theater and talk about each other. Tarantino's personality is larger than life, completely overshadowing Trenchard-Smith because of his exuberant love of film. The piece is billed as Tarantino interviewing Trenchard-Smith but it comes off as being a conversation among friends. Topics range from the intentional similarities between Patrick and Psycho and a brief mention of a combined cut of Kill Bill. Tarantino returns, this time with John D. Lamond, in two funding pitches for this film-essentially asking investors to put money up for the film.

An audio interview with director Richard Franklin (22:47) is also included, adding even more trivia and information to the film. Here, he's able to talk more about catching former Bond George Lazenby on fire and the issues with the Jamie Lee Curtis/Stacey Keach film Roadgames. The audio volume is a bit low, but extremely serviceable. An image gallery running for over five minutes and the theatrical trailer are also included.

Under discussion:

Fame  (2009)

There are two potential reasons the remake of 1980's Fame fails so spectacularly on the screen. The first would contend the audience is fed up with stories centering around kids learning all about an art form in a prestigious school. (See: Save the Last Dance, Save the Last Dance 2, Step Up, Step Up 2: The Streets, Center Stage, Center Stage: Turn It Up). More likely is the fact this screenplay, by Allison Burnett, is so riddled with holes, leaps in logic and a burning desire to cram four years worth of storylines into just 107 painful, lacking and excruciating minutes.

The problem with the script-and it is a doozy-is that there are so many characters (11 students, 5 teachers and other supporting players) covering so much time, it's impossible to organically create drama or a cohesive story. Let's not forget to mention the obligatory production numbers, ranging from all out dance routines to theater performances and instrument recitals. With so much going on, Burnett skips the connective tissue in order to focus on the "big" moments over four years. Why doesn't this work? Because it feels manufactured, fake and, ultimately, lazy. For example, breakout star Naturi Naughton butts heads with her father early in the film when she is asked to take part in a production of Chicago. Dad doesn't want her to play anything but classical music. Yet the next time the parents are brought into the picture is during year four following a very public-and exciting-hip hop performance. There's nothing in the middle, outside of a handful of scenes showing Denise at work. (To be completely fair, lip service is paid to Dad not being wild about the idea. The script doesn't give the audience anything else to work with.)

And that is the most maddening aspect of Fame: multiple plot lines which start and stop like a cab in New York City traffic without rhyme or reason. Each high school year is broken down into roughly half hour segments and, within those portions, each character gets a scene, maybe two, to advance their story. Think about the things which happen over the course of a year. Small incidental moments leading to grand, earth shattering events. Depression or love or jealousy don't happen overnight but they do here. Fame demands the audience connect the dots and essentially do the work of the script. If the film wanted to follow all these characters, then we need to see them over the course of one year, not four. And if it truly wanted to do the entire high school experience, then the cast needs to be cut. Even the most skilled of screenwriters can't juggle both.

To this point, I've mentioned one cast member by name for a good reason. With the exception of Naughton and Kherington Payne's Alice, none of the young actors are terribly compelling. And what makes these two ladies stand out isn't their acting ability, but their musical and dance performances, respectively. There is a transformation in Naughton through the film as she gains confidence in what she can do which is palpable through her singing. Indeed, it's the most obvious in her stunning bar debut as she turns from being self conscious to an assured performer. Alice doesn't have this arc since she is an extremely gifted dancer from the get go. Her coming out party is also late in the film, a sultry, seductive dance number featuring the actress crawling on the floor in a form fitting black costume.

No one else leaves any lasting impression, especially the four bona fide A-list names shunted to the side for no good reason. Megan Mullally, Kelsey Grammer, Charles S. Dutton, Bebe Neuwirth and Debbie Allen all have roles as teachers, adding a bit of star power to the production...if only the script didn't conveniently forget they exist. None of them have anything especially meaningful to do besides spout a handful of cliched and demoralizing lines to the students. Mullally is given a moment to shine in a singing performance which falls completely on its face due to music video style editing and terrible ADR. (The actress over performs the entire thing, too.) What good is it to have these actors on stage if the script refuses to do anything with them?

Among the teachers, there is a willingness to completely cut down any student they do not feel is performing as well as they should. Looking at their attitudes from any perspective, they come off as cold and harsh, unfeeling and lacking in any component which would make them good teachers. They can't help but show disdain for a performance throughout the film, going so far as to cover their face with a clipboard or half-heartedly smile. Fame comes off as a mean picture because of it. In the case of Dutton's theater teacher James Dowd, he uses the disappointment to get through to his kids. But when Neuwirth's dance instructor Ms. Kraft destroys a young man's dream, she doesn't stop to think of the long term repercussions. Certainly as she says, it is her job to be honest as a teacher. That honesty, however, has to be tempered with some sort of concern for her charges. Kraft's conversation with Kevin (Paul McGill) leads to a potentially disastrous situation...but then the movie doesn't care since no one has to deal with consequences on screen.

With its interchangeable cast of characters and porous storylines, you'd think someone would have had the good sense to include a big production number featuring "I'm Gonna Live Forever." Well, you'd be wrong. The one part of the original this film could have easily gotten right is squandered over the closing titles. This should have been the showstopper, the final performance we see from the kids. And it would have made sense within the context of the film, to boot. Instead, we're treated to an admittedly well-staged and visually arresting piece combining all the disciplines within PA...without the title song. Now what good is that?

Under discussion:

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier  (1989)

The fifth Star Trek film, The Final Frontier, is widely considered to be the worst of the original six and a contender for worst of all eleven entries in the franchise. That is a distinction this production doesn't deserve. Certainly, this story about the Enterprise being hijacked in the search for "God," has its faults. But it's nowhere near the unwatchable mess some people will claim. While it is true the visual effects are substandard for a Trek feature and the humor reeks of the writers trying too hard AND some of the devices used to get the Enterprise on its way are circumspect, this outing retains one of the most important parts of the previous entry: the focus on the relationship between Kirk (William Shatner), Spock (Leonard Nimoy) and McCoy (DeForest Kelley).

With a story by Shatner, Harve Bennett and David Loughery, Star Trek V tries to replicate the success of Star Trek IV by taking a lighter, more laid back approach to the material. This is often cited as one of the main downfalls of the movie. Whereas the interplay between the characters in 1986 San Francisco felt organic to the storyline of the film, it's gratuitous, forced and demeaning to everyone involved. In the open, Kirk is freeclimbing El Capitan in Yosemite National Park. At one point, Spock begins a conversation with him while using booster boots. When Kirk falls, Spock does his best Superman impression to catch him, including raising his arms above his head before diving. Moments later, Kirk jokes about dropping in for dinner. While the original series always had a playful dynamic between Spock and McCoy, it was very rarely humorous for the sake of humor. That ends up being the biggest problem with the finished product.

But that's not to say its the only problem. Various critics have pointed to Laurence Luckinbill's Sybok as partly to blame for the perceived failure of the film. He does the best he can with the limited role the script gives him. No one-specifically Shatner, Bennett and Loughery-gives much thought to explaining how he makes people confront their darkest secrets or why this makes them devote themselves to the cause. It just happens, making the rest of the crew turn on Kirk. This Sybok isn't a stereotypical bad guy like Khan; rather, he is the catalyst for the story. The real adversary comes in the form of Klingon Captain Klaa (Todd Bryant), a character so misbegotten and one note he shouldn't be given a second thought. (Hint: Kirk's actions in Star Trek III continue to haunt him.)

It's impossible to imagine how this script ever got approved, let alone into production. From beginning to end the crew is treated as second rate buffoons all because someone feels it would be funny and provide the audience a laugh. When this happens, no one is actually laughing with the characters. We're laughing AT them which has the effect of simultaneously demeaning the 20 plus of development the actors have put into them. A host of other, ancillary characters might as well be thrown out the airlock: Sybok takes three diplomats hostage and, combined, they have about three useful lines in the entire film. None are given anything especially meaningful to do and, therefore, are maddening to see standing around with nothing to do.

(A word about the special effects. Things like phaser blasts and transporter beams are just fine. It's the outer space effects which leave much to be desired. Color schemes appear to be all wrong with the Enterprise almost glowing. And for anyone paying attention, it's not hard to imagine the models being filmed on a soundstage. That's how fake they look.)

The real issue with the entire Sybok story isn't even a revelation which seemingly comes out of left field. No, it's more basic than that. The finale doesn't work in any way, shape or form. Whatever the reasons, it is far too perfunctory without a sense of real tension. Most certainly the lack of a main "bad guy" doesn't help The Final Frontier at all. Kirk is forced to fight against non-corporeal entity with no personality in a battle that lasts an whopping three minutes. Each of the successful Trek movies has an adversary the audience can root against, someone the hero can physically fight against. Here, Kirk is hopelessly outmatched and only really prevails on accident.

Trek V continues the trend of giving each of the main characters something to do other than punch buttons and follow orders. In the open, Sulu and Chekov (George Takei, Walter Koenig) are shown to take shore leave together while, at the same time, Uhura and Scotty (Nichelle Nichols, James Doohan) share a couple quality moments on the bridge. Mind you, Trek IV did a much better job in this area. And because the characters get small moments to themselves, the movie ends up feeling more well rounded. There's also a rousing score by Jerry Goldsmith. But then, that's to be expected.

Come to think of it...maybe this is the worst of the original six movies.

Under discussion:

The Wizard of Oz  (1939)

The Wizard of Oz is based on L. Frank Baum's novel "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz," first published in 1900. Its story of a young girl whisked away to a magical land by a Kansas tornado and desperate to get home is among the most well known and recognized tales in movie history. The film, celebrating it's 70th anniversary in 2009, retains all the wonder, joy and magic it must have brought to audiences in 1939 with one exception: the politics of the piece. And that isn't a problem with the film itself; the issue is with squarely with the audience.

It is remarkable to think Oz clocks in at 103 minutes. In reality, it never feels that long, thanks to light and breezy musical numbers and absolutely stellar performances by the four lead actors. From their singing ability to breathtaking dance skills, Judy Garland, Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr and Jack Haley bring a sense of fun to the story which tends to touch on darker themes every once in a while. Each of the characters Dorothy (Garland) meets in Oz represents a different part of her psyche. For example, the Cowardly Lion personifies the girl's underlying fear at losing the only family she has. She is constantly told at the outset by Aunt Em to stay out of the way, constantly shunted to the side. While the effect is not intended, what ends up happening is a gradual psychological beat down over time, making her feel as though she's not smart enough to compete...sound like the Scarecrow to anyone? And because she runs away from home, supposedly causing her aunt's heart problems, there is the fear Dorthy lacks a heart.

But back to those personal interactions for a moment. There is such a sense of joviality to the fantasy characters which everyone on set completely buys into. Garland's reactions may appear stilted in 2009, but for a film personae in 1939, they are right on. See, she plays Dorothy without a lick of pretension as a naive Midwestern girl with a bright-eyed enthusiasm the audience can't help but find endearing. As our proxy, Dorothy allows herself to be taken in by this world, process the environment and completely move onto her larger goal. When the supporting cast are added in-especially her comrades-they play off of one another like old friends. There's a warmth between each of them on varying levels, ranging from a brother/sister dynamic (with the Scarecrow) to a mother/son version (the Lion).

Why exactly does the movie move so gosh darn quickly? Certainly the various musical numbers have something to do with it, but there's something much more basic at work. It just so happens that, when a we're engaged in an enjoyable experience, we don't realize just how much time has passed. (The opposite, the more excruciating the experience, the slower time seems to pass, is also true.) The film wastes little time in creating the rules of the world, specifically that of black and white Kansas, before moving headlong into the Technicolor utopia of Oz. It can be argued certain characters are merely plot devices and deserve at least some small amount of actual development, but that's beside the point. Each scene moves the story forward in some way. One gets the feeling anything not doing so was cut or simply not filmed in order to get the film to Oz as quickly as possible.

A while ago, I did mention the politics of the movie. Some historians have labeled various elements using 1939 as a reference point. Dorothy being the naive American people, led down the wrong path and forced to find it again. The wizard has been compared to President William McKinley; the latter has been called a wizard in the parlance of the day while the former can be seen as a president. The problem with interpreting the movie this way is it will lose any and all charm. Forget the fact the people of 2009 are not as versed in history as we probably should be. When you start to dissect something so completely, the magic-the fun-is ruined and impossible to get back.

Looking at the film from 70 years out, each of the photographic tricks used to generate the effects are quite easy to see through. All of the plants in Oz has an unnatural sheen to it, a clear indication they're not real. The matte painting backgrounds have absolutely no depth to them while the Wicked Witch of the West's smoke plume entrances and exits revolve around an elevator hidden under the stage (we can see the differently colored floor tiles). Does any of this really matter? Not in the slightest. There's a reason this movie has survived and thrived for as long as it has. It can be criticized, but what's the point?

Under discussion:

No Through Road  (2008)

No Through Road(2008)

THE FLICK
A peaceful night at home is shattered for Richard (James Helm), a photographer who is continually pegged as scared and un-manly. When he was younger, Richard did not help his cop father in a vaguely described incident, resulting in the man's death. On this particular evening, a woman (Megan Palinkas) sneaks into his house, seeking shelter in a closet from a group of hooligans outside. They want her...but for what purpose? Is Richard to believe she accused one of the crew of rape, put him away in jail and now they want revenge? Or is there something else to the story?

No Through Road is a low budget Australian thriller not unlike Vacancy or The Strangers. All three films stars a relatively small cast and an outside world unable to help the victims in addition to being more of a suspense thriller than outright horror. However, this film has one thing the others don't: copious amounts of blood and gore, either on screen or implied. I'm not quite sure it actually needs those two elements since director Sam Barrett has a competent little thriller on his hands until the story takes a hard left hand turn into...something else.

But before we get there, we have to start at the beginning. What Barrett and co-screenwriter Robbie Studsor do so eloquently is create the character of Richard with little to no dialogue. He's on a beach, taking a picture of a father and daughter. In his car, he's harassed by some football (ie. soccer) fans next to him. And he enjoys the quiet at home. Within five minutes, with very minimal dialogue-and none from the main character-his personality traits come across loud and clear, moreso than if the script had put words into his mouth. So we know before the story really kicks into gear Richard is not likely to fight back or stand up for himself. (A cynic would say this is the oldest trick in the book and a lazy way of setting up one of the film's conflicts.)

This isn't the major logic problem with the story as presented on screen. Rather, it comes in the form of Samantha (Palinkas). Wouldn't any rational human being call the cops after someone breaks into his house and a group of thugs start to harass him? Would it really matter how Samantha tries to talk him out of it? No. All that would matter to someone like Richard would be to regain his sense of security and calm. So as Samantha's decidedly flimsy story unfolds-there's really not much to it, to be honest-it's hard not to call Richard's decision making process into question.

The rest of the film fares much better in this regard. Whereas many characters in this genre tend to run around without thinking the predicament through, Richard and Samantha smartly utilize everything around them to ward off their attackers. And that's the brilliant part of the story: how tantalizingly close they come to actually succeeding with relatively little in the way of resources. (Mind you, I will casually gloss over the lack of cell phones in this universe. However, No Through Road does a nice little jog around this potential issue, so it's not a total loss.)

That is, it succeeds until screwdrivers, compressed air and other tools come into play. To be succinct, there is no good reason for the movie to run headlong in this direction. Yes, an earlier attack is organic to the story strictly because it makes sense within the confines of this world. But in the third act, these actions feel gratuitous, as if Barrett thought he needed a hook to bring people in, aside from the suspense elements. No Through Road turns from Vacancy to Hostel lightning quick for no good reason. Logically, it doesn't work either.

Hypothetically speaking, if an object is driven into your knee, not only will removing it be excruciating, but walking on that leg should be next to impossible. I'll also question how no one on Richard's street notices a pickup truck sitting in their neighbor's driveway. Granted, a major football match is going on and everyone is concerned with that. But no one bothers to look out their window for 90 minutes? And a time lag between an event and the final shot of the movie is preposterous by any standard.

No Through Road asks the audience to put their collective brain on hold and not think terribly hard about what's going on in the story. Contrast that to big budget horror movies which demand the audience act like complete idiots to make the story work. Does this, or the low budget, necessarily give Barrett's film a pass? Not totally. But it is an admirable effort, despite the problems.

THE LOOK
The 2.35:1 anamorphic picture looks better than it probably has any right to, considering what had to be a minuscule budget. Since the film is shot using natural light, large portions of the story are shrouded in shadow. It's a stylistic choice which works in terms of the story but lends to any number of problems on the technical side of the disc. Almost every shot is grainy to some extent; the scenes with more grain are usually the darker ones, leading to the blacks turning gray. Moreover, I did notice moire effects in a few objects-a puddle of water, a door-throughout the film. More often than not, there's little detail in the picture, with a good deal of blurriness in some longer shots. All these problems mostly likely stem from the original production and not anything Cinema Epoch did in the mastering process.

THE SOUND
All the disc comes equipped with is a lacking English 2.0 mix (no subtitles, either). I had to crank the receiver higher than normal to make out any of the dialogue. The funny thing about the track is that the score or sound effects never forced me to turn it back down; in essence, everything comes across very low. If it weren't for that issue-and the strange lack of subtitles-this track may have turned out pretty darn good. Dialogue is clear, aside from natural issues in understanding an Australian accent, while sound effects are nicely rendered. If you've ever wondered what a hammer hitting a human face sounds like, No Through Road will answer that question. The lack of an overpowering score is actually a plus here since a lack of sound heightens the thriller aspects of the film. Ambient sounds, while not directional or terribly easy to hear, are present, also adding to the atmosphere.

THE STUFF
No Through Road comes packed in a normal black keepcase with no insert. From the main menu, options are included for the 16 chapter stops, 20 stills (automatically scrolling) and cover art for other Cinema Epoch released (under "Also Available"). 

Under discussion:

Orgies and the Meaning of Life  (2008)

THE FLICK
Brad T. Gottfred's second feature length film, Orgies and the Meaning of Life, is filled with good intentions. It wants to-and is moderately successful at-ripping the closet door off of sexual fantasies and the embarrassment ascribed to them. In the film, Gottfred plays Baxter Goode, a man who needs to visualize himself in the middle of an orgy in order to have sex with a woman. He theorizes that when he finds "the one," she will help him kick the fantasy to the curb. He's a courier boy by day, aspiring stick figure story writer by night and riddled with guilt all the time. Why guilt? His father is a best-selling Christian self-help book writer and has ingrained five rules for being a good person in the eyes of God into his son's brain from a young age.

Okay, so let's get out of the way first. Orgies is a low budget movie. Want to know how low budget? Gottfred not only stars in the movie (he's in virtually every scene), but he also writes, directs and produces it. The budget, or lack thereof, is evident in every scene, in every interaction, in every setting from beginning to end. Disregard the seemingly missing key light (we'll talk more about that later) or the graininess in every scene. This goes to a much more basic level. Because Gottfred is the sole creative force behind the film, it's hard not to feel the movie needs a polish from someone "on the outside." While this isn't necessarily a problem only associated with small films, the money simply isn't there to hire anyone to professionally do the job. Baxter, more than anyone else in the film, vacillates between a normal version of conversational English and a more matter of fact, professional style.

Right after Baxter decides not to have sex with Allison (Lindsay Wray)-his theoretical "one"- he says the following:

"The reason I stop before we had sex is because every time I have sex with a woman, I can't help but to imagine..."

Say that line out loud. Doesn't it feel...awkward while rolling off the tongue? That's the way it sounds, too, in the finished film. And, in the long run, it's how the entirety of Orgies plays out: awkwardly, bumbling from one thing to another with elements thrown in "just because" Gottfred can. A minor plot line featuring a neighbor looking for a dog, a recurring scene of Baxter moving a turtle off the road and a lesbian roommate who may be a figment of his imagination are never fleshed out or given any meaning. (The writer/director even mentions all of them in his director's statement, refusing to explain what they mean.)

The problem, aside from budget, Gottfred runs into is a lack of focus. One moment we're heavily embedded inside Baxter's struggle to not fall back on his sexual fantasies and the next the setting shifts to his fantasy world or a past event concerning his parents, followed by pages taken out of his "stick figure porn" book. Clocking in at just 83-minutes (not the 89 listed on the back cover), Orgies has a form of ADD, never being able to focus on one plot line for too long. Had the extraneous material been omitted, there would have been more time to delve into why Baxter feels having the orgy fantasy is wrong because that is the more interesting story element. Not the vanishing lesbian friend or family drama. And certainly not his stick figure book.

These other portions of the movie, the stick figure book, his father's work and so on, are all variations on the main plot. For instance, a flashback shows Dad (Brooks Douglass) quizzing a young Baxter on the lessons he has written about. One, always telling the truth, comes up as Baxter can't tell Allison what his sexual "dysfunction" happens to be...while Stick Figure Baxter wrestles with being honest to himself. In his case, he is on a mission to find the three dimensional world (in other words, real world Baxter's "the one"). See how the movie plays out? There's something to be said for thinking outside the box and doing something different, but Gottfred gets completely lost in the writing conventions to the detriment of the story itself.

If there is a silver lining here, it's that Gottfred imbues his character with small flourishes, tiny personality quirks which feel authentic and real. He writes on a steamy shower door. A pencil sharpener and phone both distract him from work. These moments show us there is genuine talent inside the writer if everything else can be sorted out. The acting, across the board, is acceptable without any clear standouts or real stinkers. We're never given much time to know the people on screen, outside of Baxter, so that's to be expected. This is an indie film that wants to be provocative and thoughtful but gets caught up trying to be too cute for its own good.

THE LOOK
The 1.78:1 image (anamorphically enhanced) shows all the telltale signs of a low budget feature. Blacks have absolutely no depth to them, colors are desaturated, there's little to no detail in many long shots and a grainy, hazy look permeates any number of scenes. It's hard to figure out who's responsible. Is it a problem inherent in the way Orgies was shot or a shoddy mastering process? More than likely, it's the former. At various points in the film, there seems to be a key light missing which would brighten up a location-say, the interior of a car-to reflect natural light. Without the fake natural light, Gottfred's face is obscured in shadow.

THE SOUND
The only option on the disc (and I do mean "only"...there aren't even subtitles) is an English 2.0 audio mix. to be perfectly honest, the track does what it needs to do without much of a problem. A full blown 5.1 track would have been overkill for what is essentially a relationship drama with lots of talking. Dialogue is generally clear and free of distortion, though the disc has a massive problem in volume control. Some scenes will be extremely loud while others require the receiver to be turned up...just to be turned back down again in the next scene. Again, this is a problem with the original elements and not with the mastering process. I did detect a couple directional sound effects, which were nice touches even if they don't add anything to the narrative.

THE STUFF
Orgies and the Meaning of Life comes packed in a normal black keepcase without an insert. The feature is broken down into 20 chapters.

A series of eleven deleted scenes are included, running from just under thirty seconds to close to three and a half minutes. None add much to the story; rather, they're mostly trims and edits of existing scenes. Four of them, though, do revolve around the ancillary character of Theodore and his dog...er, cat. A dozen stills from the set are also included in an automatically scrolling slide show which runs for sixty seconds.

The most insightful-relatively speaking-bonus feature is a director's statement. Running for a handful of text-based screens, Gottfred is remarkably candid about how personal this film is for him. Apparently, he transposed elements from his own life into the script: he is divorced, felt shame and wanted to get over needing fantasies while having sex. It would have been more interesting had he gotten in front of a camera and articulated these same ideas; knowing a real person suffers from these very real afflictions could very well help others in the same boat.

Two short films Gottfred helmed are included. Rape Date (7:16) continues on his theme of sexual fantasy while A Home Run for Dad (10:08) has absolutely nothing to do with sex. Last up is a gallery of other Cinema Epoch DVD covers along with a link to their website.

Under discussion:

Film Name  Production Year

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs  (2009)

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs(2009)

Based on the children's book of the same name, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs is a fun, good-looking adventure yarn for the entire family, made even better through the use of 3-D. As the story opens, the island town of Chewandswallow is in the throws of a major problem: their only industry-sardines-has suddenly dried up, forcing the people to eat sardines and only sardines. Investor Flint Lockwood (voiced by Bill Hader) comes up with a wild machine which turns water into all sorts of food. But, as with all good things, the gluttonous people take it entirely too far.

Certain films are firmly rooted in the real world where the rules the character live by are consistent with the ones the audience deals with on a daily basis. Then there are those stories which are rooted in reality but take place in a bizarre place only possible through entertainment. Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs falls firmly into the second group...and that's more than okay. Why? Because the rules it sets up for itself are adhered to vigorously from beginning to end. A cop who literally bounces around the town? Sure, not realistic, but consistent for Chewandsallow. A massive Jell-o mold serving as the location for the first date between Flint and TV weather girl Sam Sparks (Anna Faris)? Why not, when food literally falls from the sky. And that's why this animated adventure works so spectacularly well: it revels in its goofiness, slathering around in it like spaghetti in tomato sauce. Or something like that.

Just an example of the humor quotient comes from one of Sam's live shots from the town. She refers to a "meteor shower" and a "meatier" forecast. Yep, completely silly, but keeping in the spirit of the story.

For this film version, the original story has been fleshed out, expanded and characters added to create a feature-length adventure which retains the spirit of the book while logically adding to it. What do they add? Well, basically everything, considering the source material is light on backstory. Everything from the food shortage to the action-packed finale, light romance and "message" about a father's love for his son. But the genius of what Phil Lord and Chris Miller (they also direct) have done is that none of the new material feels news or out of place. Rather, it's as if they pulled all the material from Judi and Ron Barrett's book. And, likewise, none of it comes off overly preachy or dark-a criticism leveled at Pixar's Up. Instead, the "message" is embedded so carefully inside the story itself it sneaks up on the audience in little scenes, all of which turn out to be overshadowed by the food plot (in the best way possible).

Even through the obligatory scenes of exposition, the story is filled with a sense of wonder. As the world is being created in front of our eyes, we're shown the other Lockwood creations, all of which work in some way, shape or form. There's a growing thread of success in all of his work no one but his deceased mother ever saw. For the younger set, this turns into a very important life lesson: work as hard as you can on something you want and the rewards will come in time. A flying car comes into play later in the film, for instance. If that's the "life lesson" inside his character, then another, equally important, one is written into the Sam Sparks character. Simply, don't change who you are for anyone. See, she's a nerd trying to cover that fact up by wearing her hair down and shedding glasses she desperately needs. Oh yeah, Sparks also plays completely dumb in order to be more "camera friendly." Her realization, though not as pronounced as Flint's, comes around in nick of time. Again, both are brilliant examples of ways a script can teach the audience something important without hitting us over the head with a 2 x 4.

The animation should be mentioned, since it is a major contributing factor to the success of Meatballs. Sony Animation valiantly tries to compete with Pixar in the cartoon realm, but falls just a touch short of that studio. That shouldn't be considered a knock; rather, it should be a badge of honor for Sony to create a film which can be legitimately compared to Up or Ratatouille. And it's not that the animation is necessarily worse, either. It's just a different kind, a more cartoon-y look and feel. People with elongated fingers, a sky rarely deviating from some shade of pink or orange...the animators create a distinctive visual style for this world keeping in the style and tone of the plot.

This is also the first production to use a new technology called Arnold. What Arnold does is automatically bounce light off of various objects instead of making the animators add in the effect. The Jell-o mold scene is a prime example of why this is useful to filmmakers. In it, the structure and every object inside perfectly replicates the look from inside such a food. Diffused light pours through the walls, creating a luscious, orange atmosphere. (Sony also made the brilliant decision to utilize Real 3-D for the film. The effect creates a wondrous sense of depth in each and every scene without being showy or obvious. Objects and people come towards the camera, though in more appropriate ways than, say, Jaws 3-D or the recent Journey to the Center of the Earth.)

Under discussion:

Film Name  Production Year

Sanctuary [TV Series]  Production Year

THE FLICK
The first season of Sanctuary showcases some of the obvious pitfalls of a new series: a mix of episodic and serialized episodes leaves a somewhat disjointed feel, actors don't quite have their characters down pat and more than a few stories feel ripped from other series. But in the end, after the initial 13 episodes, Sanctuary does prove itself to be a fun and innovative series about monsters (or "abnormals") and the people who protect them.

Those people? Doctor Helen Magnus (Stargate's Amanda Tapping), her daughter-and group's muscle-Ashley (Emilie Ullerup), tech guru Henry (Ryan Robbins) and new recruit Will Zimmerman (Robin Dunne). A plethora of other characters fill out the world, including James Watson, Nikola Tesla, Bigfoot and, yes, the granddaughter of the Invisible Man. At its core, Sanctuary is about learning to accept oneself and respecting all people, regardless of who-or what-they are. It's a terribly simple premise done to death by any number of television shows and movies, books, songs and every other medium out there. But what sci fi has always done better and more effectively is shroud that message in a veil of "cool" and "gee whiz" so the pill is a bit easier to swallow.

And there is a lot to swallow in this fictional universe, to be sure. Aside from the copious number of creatures inhabiting every corner of New City (a joke in the commentary tracks pins the location of New City on the West Coast), we're asked to block out everything we know from similar programs. More than a couple plot lines can be traced directly back to the original Star Trek series-if not farther back. They concern a crashed plane, desperate for rescue and fending off a creature...reminiscent of "The Galileo Seven" episode. Then there's the quickly procreating Nubbins, small furry animals Ashley thinks are terribly cute. Remind anyone of tribbles? The series' fourth aired episode-"Folding Man"-brings Victor Eugene Tooms from The X-Files to mind. There is a screenwriting adage which says there are only seven plots around which to construct a story. It's the subtle differences between the way they are executed which make all the difference.

What subtle differences? The characters, for one. Even if Tapping has a hard time with her British accent in the two-part pilot, she does get it under control for the rest of the season to bring a confident, intelligent, kick-ass and grounded to the screen. Longtime fans of Stargate SG-1 may have a hard time, at first, accepting Tapping with flowing black hair. But it is a personae she quickly adapts to. As the series starts, Zimmerman is the outsider, recruited into the Sanctuary for All (the organization's proper name) world. He, in the vein of Dana Scully, is the audience's proxy, not quite believing everything he's being told. Dunne brings a wide eyed enthusiasm and likability to the good doctor. We can't help but smile as he incredulously meets a plethora of figures from literary works, such as Watson and a particularly devilish character I shall not ruin here.

The series, originating in a series of internet webisodes, isn't without its faults. The episode "Fata Morgana" (the third on the set) falls terribly flat due to the claustrophobic nature of the story and no real connection to anything else we have or will see. The computer graphics, which we'll talk about more in a minute, run hot and cold, either absolutely photo realistic or stereotypical Sci Fi Channel movie of the week quality. And the concept of The Five-five important figures who have to come together at the end of the season to avert war-feels almost gratuitous, as if the writers were cherry picking the most recognizable names from history and dropping them into the story. (One other minor question revolves around where Magnus gets her money from. In addition to the Sanctuary building, she also apparently has a submarine and airplane in her arsenal. That's enough to make one think of Batman...)

At the top I mentioned the serialized vs. episodic nature of the show is a problem. That's both true and slightly disingenuous. Even in the so-called standalone episodes, there are elements which feed into the greater mythology of the series. The aforementioned "Fata Morgana," for instance, introduces a group known as The Cabal, as a season-long (and presumably series-long) adversary for the Sanctuary crew. Sanctuary is undoubtedly at its best when working toward a goal, a long term purpose. But that's also not to say the standalone shows aren't quality pieces of work also. A very interesting subplot runs through a handful of episodes consistently showing Henry sick and then...much much more.

Any discussion of the series will inevitably spend a great deal of time mentioning the very liberal use of green screen technology to create sets and even characters. As is mentioned in the bonus features, audiences are used to seeing completely virtual sets in the movies, but not on television. What Sanctuary does on a weekly basis is extraordinary, to say the least. Some of the sets and backgrounds do look fake, to be sure, but the vast majority of them are simply gorgeous, works of art above all else. The way shots are composited together (different parts are photographed at different times and then cut together to form one complete scene) is a brilliant way of producing high quality programming on a relatively small budget. Reportedly, the entire season cost $21 million to make, a far cry from the price tag for other program's of its ilk. It doesn't hurt that the show utilizes a camera which captures images at 4k resolution or, in layman's terms, much higher than even high definition. One has to wonder why the season, then, isn't presented on Blu-ray as well.

THE LOOK
The bonus materials makes it quite clear Sanctuary is not designed to be a shiny and brand new-looking. Thus, the 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen picture doesn't jump off the screen though it does accurately reflect the intent of the series. (In addition to the dull look, they are also going for a gothic feel, resulting in a heavy reliance on gray, black and shadow.) From start to finish, the show is relatively crisp and clear, with rather good depth and saturation. The only problem-and it's not even a problem-is with the look of the visual effects. Some are photo realistic while others just look fake and cloudy. The same "cloudy" look permeates the entire season; it's not bad, just noticeable. Sanctuary has precious few outdoor, day scenes but the ones that are present hold up nicely.

THE SOUND
E1 has included both an English 5.1 audio track as well as a 2.0 version. If you have the right set up, the 5.1 mix is vastly superior. Dialogue is easy to understand in both and ambient effects create a creepy, moody atmosphere. In the 5.1 iteration, those sounds are all magnified, with the Sanctuary itself becoming a character in the show through creeks, groans and other miscellaneous auditory stimulation. Even minor things like the hum of fluorescent lights are brought to the forefront. Most of the action comes from the center and front speakers, though those other noises all originate in different corners of the room. Quite impressive. English subtitles are also included.

THE STUFF
Sanctuary: The Complete First Season hits the shelf in a gatefold-style package inside a classy, gold slipcover. One interior page includes an episode and extras listing, along with episode synopses. The other two interior pages house the discs, with discs one and two on the same page and three and four on the other. An insert promoting the October debut of the second season and other E1 sci-fi series releases is included. Each episode is broken down into seven chapters, though there is not a chapter listing on any menu. The first disc opens with a short, 21-second promo for the new season. Each disc (outside of the fourth since it only has one episode) includes a play all option as well as individual episode selections.

Each of the 13 episodes in season one is accompanied by a commentary track featured Damian Kindler, Amanda Tapping and Martin Wood. They provide all sorts of useful, fun and technical information about the show, ranging from conversations about the original webisodes to how the visual effects work, the music, casting, hairpieces and storylines. The three giggle and joke their way through each episode, sometimes letting us in on the jokes and sometimes not. They're genuinely happy to be recording the commentary, not to mention excited for the show. After listening to the commentaries, you might as well call it a day; everything we could want to know about the production is touched upon and explained.

But in case you want more, a series of three extremely short featurettes are included on disc 4, along with the rest of the video-based bonus features (all run under six minutes in length). The first, "Welcome to the Sanctuary" (5:07), introduces the concept, characters and key locations; "Sanctuary Residents" (5:39) is all about the cast, with obligatory back slapping and fawning over how wonderful everyone is; and "Sanctuary Visual Effects" (5:20) tells about...well, the visual effects. While you won't spend a ton of time with these pieces, the only one worth watching is the last, considering we get to see what Kindler, Tapping and Wood mean when they say 99% of the set is created inside a computer. Literally, there is a desk or a pillar in the middle of a green set, which is then covered with the sets we see in the finished program. It's the most fascinating aspect of the series and one not covered nearly enough.

Next up are the aforementioned webisodes, split into two roughly hour long parts (1:08:31 and 1:01:25, respectively), both introduced by Tapping. As noted in the commentary tracks, the existing episodes use parts of the websiodes while other segments have been completely reshot, resulting in a different narrative. Still, seeing the evolution of the series proper is quite fascinating and these are a quality addition to the set. A couple minutes of bloopers-mostly the cast flubbing lines and cracking up on set-comes next.

A series of 30 photos, all automatically scrolling with music from the series as a backdrop, are also included. Last up is a somewhat extended look at Season 2 (:56).

Under discussion:

Extract  (2009)

When Mike Judge's Extract works, it fires on all cylinders and hits its jokes with such spot-on ferocity, the genius in the script is quite obvious. But there's another side to the comedy, filled with a jumble of story lines seemingly thrown together to distract from one, simple truth: there is no emotional "bottom" to the main plot.

Ostensibly a workplace comedy like Office Space, Extract takes place inside an extract plant, built and run by Jason Bateman's Joel, seemingly happily married to Suzie (Kristen Wiig). When life at work doesn't stress him out-an employee loses a testicle due to an accident-he has issues at home, namely a lack of sex. Enter both Cindy (Mila Kunis) and Dean (Ben Affleck), she a sultry temp worker and he Joel's friend. Through a combination of drugs and alcohol, Dean and Joel hatch a plan to make Suzie cheat with the poolboy (Dustin Milligan) so Joel feels no moral ambiguity for going after Cindy.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg Judge calls a story in Extract. With so much going on in a sub-90 minute film, it's impossible for any one storyline to get the attention it deserves. Take, for instance, the sexual dysfunction between Joel and Suzie. Anyone in a long term relationship knows partners tend to take each other for granted and forget the small things in life when work and the house take priority. But we want to see Bateman and company make the backstory funny in the way they make the obnoxious neighbor subplot funny. We don't get to see it since the movie is concerned with everything else going on around it. Just as we begin to get invested in one set of characters, the scene switches to something completely different, thereby losing all sense of momentum.

It's not that Judge doesn't have a plethora of good ideas, marvelous execution and game actors to work with. Much the opposite, actually. He has too much content for the constraints of the script. An entire film could be made solely inside the extract planet, detailing the personalities there. Beth Grant, as wise ass Mary, is such a wonderful presence onscreen even when she's engaged in blatant racial stereotyping against a Hispanic worker, she turns in an endearing and natural performance. In fact, each and every person in the film is authentic (until the finale, which we'll get to in a minute). These personalities-Rory, the metal playing forklift driver...Step, the slower guy with a heart of gold...even drugged out Dean-never come across as anything but 100% real. It's in the way they restrain themselves from hamming it up for the camera and in the way Judge writes the situations. In the open, two guitar store clerks fawn over Cindy and race to help her, fumbling over one another and ultimately looking like buffoons. Why? Because there's a pretty girl in front of them.

And it's precisely because there is a genuine concept and humor underneath all the plot threads Extract is so disappointing. In one scene late in the film, Suzie and Joel have argue over a poor choice they both had a hand in. Without blinking, Joel asks if she can still sit down after he hears how many times she's had sex in less than 2 weeks. Both actors are brilliant in the scene, never breaking character or betraying the seriousness of the situation, yet we can't help but find the entire thing beyond hilarious. The entirety of Extract plays this way, from the intended laughs to smaller situations from everyday life.

I would be remiss if I didn't at least mention the complete meltdown of the story in the last few minutes. In plot twists which reek of Judge realizing he's out of story, characters simply do things they shouldn't do, effectively wrapping each plot with a tidy little bow. The dim-witted story gymnastics exist for no appreciable reason, aside from the clock dwindling on the film's allotted running time. Why does the thief character develop a conscience? How does the hero determine who the thief is? Where do the lonely hearts figure out they're really meant for one another? I can't help but think chunks of film were removed which would help the audience logically move to the eventual finale.

Thanks mostly to a stellar cast who captures our attention from the first frame (including Kunis, who plays manipulative sex kitten better than anyone on screen, even if she is nothing more than a plot device) and Judge's unique ability to find the humor in seemingly mundane events without making them completely cartoonish, Extract somehow manages to overcome all its obstacles to be an amusing diversion. But don't compare it to Office Space. Nothing the writer/director does will ever be that painstakingly hilarious.

Under discussion:

Game  (2009)

Gamer is a full sensory experience, assaulting each of the five senses. It pummels the ears with a cacophony of explosions, yelling and gunfire while the onslaught continues with an unrelenting hand-held camera visual style. The film feels like something we've seen before (done better), leaves a bad taste in the mouth and, ultimately, smells like a picture distributor Lionsgate had no idea how to make, let alone market.

Sometime in the future, a mega-computer company headed by "reclusive" Ken Castle (Michael C. Hall) has created two super-realistic computer games: Slayers and Society. In both, people sitting in front of their computer screens control other human beings. In Slayers, convicts are thrown into a real-life first person shooter game. Win 30 matches and you're set free. The second is most like The Sims, a place where anything goes and anyone can be anybody. John Tillman, aka Kable (Gerard Butler) is closing in on his 30th win, thanks to his controller Simon (Logan Lerman). When it's evident Castle will never let him leave alive, Kable escapes from the game/prison to reunite with his wife, a woman who is a pawn in Society. Both fall in with a group called Humanz; they advocate for the good of humans over the games.

Honest to goodness, beneath the mess of plot points, action sequences and wasted actors, there is a story waiting to be told in Gamer. And here's how it goes: our increasing fascination with online gaming leads to a world where we don't value a human life, let alone think thorugh the things we do. (There's also a subplot about the ills of violence on society, a message this movie in particular is in no way qualified to comment on, based on how it glorifies violence and uses it as a crutch.) Both potential plotlines are completely overshadowed, though, by Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor (directors and writers; they're also responsible for both Crank movies) who go for style over substance, flash over truth and titillation over realism.

I guess the best place to start is with the positives, or, the positive. The directors have a very distinctive visual flare to their work, desaturating every shot in the real world or in Slayers of all color and life, giving way to a stark, highly contrast-y environment. In this place, small flourishes of color stand out on the screen, particularly red blood splatters when someone's head gets blown up. Meanwhile, Society is a hyper-stylized, candy colored world completely in line with the theme of the game.

So why does Gamer fail so spectacularly? No one bothered to follow the plot during the writing process. It is high concept to be sure, but completely implausible. How did Castle get the federal government to sign onto either game? We're told the prison system was bankrupting the country...but this is really the solution? We're similarly led to believe both games-or at the very least Slayers-takes place near a prison, inside the headquarters of Netex, Castle's company. Tillman actually breaks out (yes, a spoiler...)...how? Does he simply blow a hole in the side of the building? Kyra Sedgwick's television personality Gina Parker Smith somehow finds her way into the Society world, as does Tillman. How? Eh, the movie doesn't care.

And that might just sum it up. Gamer doesn't care. It doesn't care about story or that the film, from beginning to end, is brain dead. Nor does it care about any character, relationship or idea that doesn't have to do with a gun. (Apparently, Milo Ventimiglia is in the film, but I missed him completely). It doesn't care the "finale" is simply hideously laughable, showcasing just how desensitized to violence society has become.

Gamer revels in its own gratuitousness, flaunting every action scene as a revelation in the world of film. And they're not. The moment Hall sings over a fight sequence-yes, I can't help but mention this quasi-musical number in the middle of an action flick-the film is beyond redemption. There's a certain comedic element in songs like "I've Got the World on a String" or "I've Got No Strings" being played in a movie about puppetry, but that's a bit to meta for most audiences.

Slovenka, known as Slovenian Girl in English, takes its name from the alias Sasha (Nina Ivanisin) uses when publishing sex ads in the local newspaper. She is a struggling college student, the apple of her father's eye by day and a prostitute by night. After buying and mortgaging a new flat, Sasha finds herself low on money and the target of two pimps.

Director Damjan Kozole's film is a slice of story lacking a true character arc for Sasha and that may be Slovenka's biggest downfall, at least for western audiences trained to look for a definite "goal" at the cinema. That's not to say the film is a failure; much the opposite, actually. By not adhering to convention, Kozole makes the drama stand out from the crowd, giving it a European feel. Sasha doesn't exactly learn anything through the film. Oh, she tries to change, but she falls into old habits when the going gets rough.

As an audience, we can't help but want Sasha to turn over another leaf, get a respectable job and stop the circle of lies she engages in. Not because she's a compelling character or the story does such a good job of putting us in her shoes, but because we know living by selling your body will eventually run out. Kozole tries to showcase the issues in her life (Sasha using the same tumor lie over and over is a piece of very dark humor), though there is never any build up to conversations with the bank or a professor. They're all very matter of fact, as if the camera was set down at Point X to follow her and then turned off at Point Y.

Told without flash or substance, Slovenka is a tour de force for its lead actress. Ivanisin's sad, expressive eyes convey more about the character than any dialogue could. As Sasha goes through all her encounters, she lacks genuine emotion. The only time anything approaching feeling enters into the picture is when she turns on the waterworks to achieve something she can't get with sex. Whether it's rescheduling an exam or getting another couple of days leniency on her delinquent bank loan, Ivanisin's performance reaffirms the characters traits we see on the screen: lonely, desperate, attention-starved.

(Slovenka doesn't spend a lot of time with the juxtaposition of Sasha's professional and personal lives. They do meet in the third act to an unsatisfactory resolution. The idea may be there can be no real separation of outside life and work no matter what kind of job a person finds themselves in. In effect, what Sasha does away from her father and friends directly impacts what she does while she's not on the clock, as showcased in two separate sequences-one on the street and one with her father.)

This universe isn't terribly fleshed out, with minor story lines being completely discarded for no good reason. Sasha's father Edo (Peter Musevski) tries to resurrect a band with friends seemingly for the sole purpose of creating drama at the end of the film. A conversation with her mother goes nowhere, leaving another potential subplot lacking. There's a friend-Vesna-who drops in and out of the story without rhyme or reason. And then there's a relationship Sasha has with Greg (Uros Furst), a formerly married man who left his wife for her. The pimps completely fall away from the story, as if they were either completely forgotten about or, more accurately, they're actually extraneous to the story itself. All these people could have been used to create a well-rounded, completely world for Sasha and her double life. But they're not. By dropping the audience into the story without much back story or development, the "day in the life" convention is reinforced.

And that is all by design, I think. By utilizing this kind of structure, Kozole is able to remove much of the emotion from the story, giving us an impartial look at life for a prostitute. Maybe impartial is the wrong word since the film never takes the time to show the advantages to this profession. (A better way of putting it may be: The negative side to the business? The personal cost of selling your body? The emotional cost of being a prostitute?) Then again, Slovenka isn't a documentary; it's a drama and these kinds of stories don't thrive on only good things happening to the characters.

Under discussion:

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home  (1986)

The fourth big screen installment in the Star Trek saga may be the most commercially popular of the series, but, like the previous film, can't break away from the time period in which it was made. The result? A light-hearted, "save the whales" message just tangentially taking place in the Trek universe.

En route back to Earth from Vulcan, Admiral James T. Kirk (William Shatner) and the crew of the former U. S. S. Enterprise are warned away from the planet. An alien probe is evaporating the ocean and blocking out the sun while draining power from anything it meets. In their captured Klingon Bird-of-Prey, the crew journeys back in time to procure two humpback whales-the only creature which can answer the proBe-and return to the 23rd century.

In Star Trek III, the production outfitted the new U. S. S. Excelsior in pink chairs, Chekov (Walter Koenig) in a pink jumpsuit and a snarky sense of humor, at least in some scenes. Here, instead of being confined to one or two scenes, the very plot of the movie is ripped from environmental organizations. In essence, The Voyage Home is a two hour advertisement on why the whaling industry is wrong. Now, certainly, it can be argued this is the most Trek movie of the first four, combining character moments, action and a positive social message. Yet, at the same time, it's impossible not to feel like we're being lectured, chastised and reprimanded by a group of our friends.

There's another issue with the film, aside from the overly preachy tone of the plot. Well, it may not be an outright problem, just a deviation from where the series had been before. I'm referring to the humor quotient. From beginning to end, there's a cutesy feeling to the movie, as if everyone involved knew they were making a light flick. This isn't to say every story needs to be dark and heavy, but the tone simply feels like a throwback to science fiction films of old, with everyone cracking jokes and coming up with witty one liners. Let's remember their home planet is under attack and can be destroyed at any time. This isn't the time to be snappy. (The argument that humor is bourne out of desperate times may hold water after the threat is realized, but not before.)

To simulate the time travel effect, the film uses an ethereal, nebulous vision with clay heads of the main crew, a body diving into the water and an undetailed clay-ish reproduction of a whale. Why? There's no good reason, other than the film had the budget to put it on screen. None of the time travel episodes of the series had the money to do this kind of effect or sequence. It just seems out of place in the context of the story and the series.

That being said, some of the interactions can't help but elicit a chuckle simply because the script treats the crew as longtime friends capable of jabbing at one another goodnaturedly. Much like the television series, it's DeForest Kelley's Dr. McCoy who receives the lion share of these lines. His reparte with Spock (Leonard Nimoy)-especially en route to Earth-is among the best the script has to offer. Even if Kirk shouting "everyone remember where we parked" is the most quotable portion of the film, McCoy and Spock trying to discuss life and death without the good doctor having a "proper frame of reference" is more organic to the characters.

Everything else about Trek IV is more or less above board. For the first time in the entire run of the series, each of the seven main characters gets something substantial and positive to do. While Kirk and Spock are off procuring the whales (the A-story), McCoy and Scotty (James Doohan) are tasked with creating an enclosure for the animals. Sulu (George Takei) commandeers a helicopter and Chekov and Uhura (Nichelle Nichols) find a way to repower the vessel. No one is stuck purely behind a console or left spouting technobabble. Rather, they all get something wholly unique and active to do.

In the grand tradition of Trek, the film has a half-hearted "romance" between Kirk and Dr. Gillian Taylor (Catherine Hicks). It may be a bit of a misnomer to call it a romance, per se. They kiss only once, never actually have sex or express a romantic interest in each other. Instead, they're more like friends. She's fine in the role, confident and believable as a whale biologist, just wide-eyed enough about the 23rd century to be our proxy in this universe.

(This is, obviously, a fish out of water story, no pun intended, for both the crew and Taylor. Each has to learn and adapt to their new environments. Naturally, most of the humor comes from the characters not knowing what to do-money is a foreign concept to Kirk and Spock, for instance. As mentioned before, this is the most Trek of the movies because of the subject matter but also because the crew is exploring a "strange new world.")

So does Trek IV deserve all the praise it gets? Not really. It is a step up, production value wise, from the previous flick but also a step down in tone and seriousness when, in reality, it should have been just as dire as either Trek II or III. The film and script does get major points for utilizing the entire crew as well as anything before it, though.

Under discussion:

District 9  (2009)

The term science fiction has been perverted over the years to mean any number of things. Outer space melodrama. Exploration on an alien planet. Weird looking creatures with orange tentacles. Spaceships. But what most entries into the genre are missing is quite simple: the comment on the current times. Planet of the Apes had it. So did the recent Children of Men. Most of the Star Trek flicks contained commentary on the real world. And so does District 9. That much should be apparent from the trailer.

A huge spaceship hovers in the sky over Johannesburg, South Africa. While humans cut a hole in the side to gain access, a much smaller vessel detaches and disappears. Inside, starving and nearly dead aliens are found. They are given a home in a slum called District 9. After 20 years, the people of South Africa grow weary and restless over these visitors. MNU-Multi National United-is only supposed to move them to a tent city…yet something goes horribly wrong to the pencil-pusher in charge of the operation, Wikus Van De Merwe.

D9 is unabashedly a message movie wrapped in pyrotechnics and Dr. Zoidberg-esque make-ups. In fact, the script by director Neill Blomkamp and Terri Tatchell outlines the anti-alien (otherwise known by the derogatory “prawn”) sentiment within the first ten minutes. The first quarter of the movie is told documentary style, with the actors looking straight into the camera and a handful of experts bringing the audience up to speed on world events. Think of the film as a 60 Minutes piece gone horribly wrong. It is an intriguing choice, one that is jettisoned as the relocation occurs in favor of, primarily, a third person point of view.

(Security camera footage is mixed in with the documentary style video. The second half of the film utilizes traditional third person viewpoints interspersed with select shots from Van De Merwe's point of view. This approach keeps the film visually interesting and the filmmakers on their toes.)

Why does a documentary work for this particular story? Well, for starters, it allows various characters to utter a great deal of exposition without it feeling like exposition. It’s quite a brilliant strategy, actually, to style the beginning of the film after The Office since it allows the audience to see the contrast in personalities between when a person knows they’re “on” and when they’re “off.” In Van De Merwe’s case, he seems sympathetic to the aliens initially and transformers into a scared and violent man when thrust into the middle of the ghetto.

There are strong parallels to American treatment of Japanese Americans during World War II as well as the concentration camps in Nazi Germany during the same time. In fact, hearing the way humans speak of the "relocation" should send shivers down the spine of anyone in the audience. Not specifically because of our shared history but because it appears as though humanity has not learned a thing from those episodes. Indeed, until the climax in the district itself, there's never a sense any human has any concept of the right or wrong thing to do, that they're capable of change. At least not in a sustaining, meaningful way. It doesn't even appear that humanity tried to talk with the aliens despite apparently understanding the language. Van De Merwe, the ostensible protagonist, doesn't bother to change himself until his well-being is put on the line. And even then it's only superficial change, nothing long lasting. That's not a positive social message, is it?

District 9 isn't a terribly positive movie, to be honest. But then it isn't supposed to be. This isn't the type of sci fi movie where the good guys turn out okay in the end and evil corporate goons get what's coming to them. This may be the only genre where an ending like the one Blomkamp and Tatchell cook up can be acceptable, even welcome. There's a certain poetry to the final scenes. They work, leaving a shred of hope for the alien/human relationship at some point in the future. (Or an all out holy war...)

Don't fret: District 9 has the other hallmarks of quality science fiction, too. The final half hour-if not more-is one extended action sequence expertly conceived and directed so the audience never question who is doing what to whom. All the pieces are moved into place and introductions made during the rest of the film to make sure it all makes sense. And then there's the design of the aliens themselves. In a word, brilliant. In creating the bi-pedal, slim waist, athletic, scaly spider race, the crew takes great pains to make sure they walk and act in a realistic manner. Every action feels organic and entirely plausible. Not a single shot looks computer generated, though I'm told the "prawn" are completely CGI. They're a marvel, to be blunt. And to imagine the relatively small budget for film ($30 million). Big budget creatures rarely look this realistic. Each of the three "main" alien personalities is given distinguishing characters all their own, including a wide array of facial expressions. Notice slumped shoulders or expanding pincers designed to convey emotion.

The fact the entire movie takes place in South Africa isn't a coincidence, either. Think about it: humans have created a second class of citizen, holed them up in a ghetto and afford them no rights or simple respect. Doesn't that sound a bit like apartheid? See, even in something as mundane as the setting, quality screenwriters can add another layer to the story. And what they conveniently leave out of the story-why the aliens are here, for example-adds to the mystery. And that's okay. Every "i" doesn't need to be dotted and every "t" crossed. Something has to be left to the imagination, to fuel fan fiction for years to come. Besides, there is a certain charm to leaving the details purposely sketchy. That's what they make sequels for.

Under discussion:

Funny People  (2009)

Judd Apatow's third directorial effort, Funny People, is being marketed as a comedy. And, to be fair, the flick revolves around a handful of comedians and has genuinely funny moments. But it's not a comedy in the conventional sense of the term. Apatow, who also penned the script, uses misdirection to tell a more dramatic story modeled more on All About Eve than Billy Madison.

George Simmons (Adam Sandler) is a successful comedian who's received bad news: he has advanced leukemia. One night at a comedy club, he comes across Ira Wright (Seth Rogen), an aspiring comedian. Simmons hires the young gun to wright jokes and be an assistant, though their relationship quickly begins to look like friends. Whatever the relationship, it's tested when George reconnects with a former fiancee (Leslie Mann) and Ira speaks his mind.

There is so much story crammed into this admittedly long film-it has a 146 minutes running time-it wouldn't be disingenuous to say the end result is ambitious, possibly overambitious. There's a veritable flood of major and minor characters and a host of plot lines which never quite gel to form a cohesive whole. When Joseph L. Mankiewicz wrote the 1950's Eve, he didn't have to worry about making the audience laugh or living up to some preconceived notion of what the movie was going to be. Rather, all he had to deal with was adapting Mary Orr's original story for the screen and juggling the ego's of both Bette Davis and Anne Baxter. Apatow's version doesn't work precisely because he found himself having to juggle disparate elements which shouldn't be thrown together.

Take, for instance, a subplot concerning Ira, his roommates (Jonah Hill and Jason Swartzman) and a girl named Daisy (Abrey Plaza). The relationship between the four recurs trough the entire picture yet amounts to nothing in the long run. It's as if Apatow simply threw the characters in to give his usual stable of talent something to do. What, exactly, does Ira living on their couch have to do with anything? Where does Daisy truly enter the picture? The sad truth is neither is connected to the main plot. If Ira had articulated to George how knowing Daisy and Mark (Schwartzman) spent a night together made him feel, perhaps the younger man's actions in the third act could have made sense. But he doesn't and, more importantly, it doesn't.

Where the story should have focused its energy is delving deeply into the George/Ira relationship and, more specifically, why it is George decides to hire him. We're told it's because of the jokes, but that' terribly simplistic. There has to be something else. Is it because George is supposedly dying and he's lonely? Does he want to leave a legacy aside from juvenile comedy films? Or is it possible, no matter how remotely so, he wants to actually help Ira, that he's being selfless in his final hours? We're never told, leaving the audience to wonder about that lingering question at the end. Had this been a normal, everyday comedy, no one would give it a second thought. But due to Apatow's unconventional way of creating this comedy, he draws attention to these types of loose threads.

Funny People is wholly concerned with showing off to the audience. I can imagine Apatow writing certain scenes and congratulating himself for being so reverential toward the stand-up community, telling himself everyone between New York and Los Angeles will enjoy the references. I'll tell you quite simply Middle America won't get it. I'm told stand-up comics routinely get together to celebrate or just to eat. Fantastic, if Apatow is trying to recreate that milieu. But does it matter to people not in the loop? Doubtful; the sequence becomes something created for the "in crowd" instead of the masses. And to those of us who actually do care, it's overkill. (For the record, I noticed Ray Romano, Eminem, Norm McDonald, Carol Leifer, Andy Dick, Sarah Silverman and Paul Reiser. The cast list says a great many more were sprinkled in the finished product.)

There's nothing wrong with the cast; not a single one of them can compete with Davis or Crawford, though they're a solid group capable of playing comedy or drama depending on the script. Sandler and Rogen are known quantities, so we know what we're going to get with them in this genre. I was more struck by Leslie Mann and Eric Bana, who plays her husband Clark in the film. They're storyline is relatively small, though she is a magnetic presence whenever she takes the screen. And Bana does the most with the limited screen time he gets, effectively making the audience question whether he really is the douchebag Laura (Mann) has made him out to be. As with all things involved with the film, the third act, which squarely focuses on these two characters, runs overlong and wears out its welcome with far too long remaining.

Since he is the lead, I feel compelled to say something...substantial about Sandler, though what that something is I don't know. He's wholly convincing as a successful loner, someone who makes the people around him laugh but has precious little to laugh about when he's alone. Simmons isn't the most engaging or likeable character, especially when he verbally berates Ira late in the film. Maybe he's channeling Margo Channing after mentoring Ira's Eve Harrington, kicking the protege to the curb when he becomes a career threat.

A word of warning: Funny People is rated R for a very good reason. Each of the stand-up routines prominently deals with sex and profanity. No more than five minutes goes between references to balls or ****. In other words, it's a typical Apatow and Sandler film, not intended for the squemish or easily offended.

Under discussion:

Almost Heaven  (2009)

Thanks to years upon years of movies masquerading as romantic comedies, Almost Heaven is able to slip into that genre with only the barest hints of romance or comedy. Mark Brady (Donal Logue) is an award-winning television director who has succumbed to alcohol in the wake of his divorce from TV personality Taya Honeywell (Joely Collins). Desperate for someone to take over a cable fishing show in Scotland, executives bring Brady in to salvage the program. But in Scotland he not only contends with his drinking demons, ex-wife and cantankerous locals, but also female gillie Nicki (Kristy Mitchell), whom he falls for.

First off, writer/director Shel Piercy wants the audience to believe Mark is a hardcore drunk, someone who parties and has indiscriminate sex to the detriment of everything around him. Well, the cardinal rule of filmmaking is to show and not tell. At no point in the film does Piercy get around to showing Mark doing what he apparently does best. Therefore, through the entire running time, when Logue takes a swig out of a flask or talks about being a drunk, it's impossible to picture him actually being drunk. Why does this matter? Because the entirety of the film depends on this characterization.

Okay, so no one wanted to make Almost Heaven into an after school special on the ills of drinking. Rather, the idea is to warm the heart with a tale of redemption and love. Only this particular story plays so hard to get that it forgets to organically build the relationship between Nicki and Mark. There is one sequence which works like gangbusters to provide a sense of growth and a budding romance; it turns out to be sweet, charming, lovely and exceptionally well paced and written precisely because we want to care about their pairing. Everything else-the show, the fishing, the network, the drinking-it's all superfluous to Nicki and Mark. Yet the movie doesn't spend nearly enough time showcasing the two of them doing romantic-type things.

Why? I'm not sure, exactly. I suspect Piercy had too much he wanted to do with the story and tried to cram it all in for better or worse. Take, for example, the character of Taya. Spunky, outgoing and aggressive, it's easy to see why she and Mark didn't get along. Their antagonistic relationship provides a few chuckles, but there's never an underlying reason or rationale to anything she does. In her introduction, she's lying in wait on Mark's hotel bed in lingerie. Why? Don't know and don't care. She's after Mark to sell the house they shared together. Why? Again, don't know and don't care. All the movie needs from Taya is to be loud and obnoxious. To her credit, Collins plays the part wonderfully, thawing around the edges throughout the film.

And then there are the locals, all designed to be the comic relief. Teapot Ted (Christopher Fairbank) is the most overboard of these characters with his misogynistic attitude toward Nicki-gillie's are fishing guides and have historically been males. He's also a drunk, though holds his liquor much worse than Mark. Tom Conti plays Bert Gordon, the hotel bartender and wise mentor everyone seems to rely on. Think Sam Malone, just older, with fewer quips and an accent. He's the only one of the Scottish characters who actually works since he's the only one given anything meaningful to do.

Even the entire television crew are little more than cardboard cutouts designed to lend ambiance and credibility to the setting as opposed to being actual characters. Though not part of the crew, Bert's daugher Anabella (Eilidh MacDonald) completely disappears in the third act for no apparent reason other than to remove the object of Nicki's jealousy. After being a sex kitten early on, she's simply forgotten about.

If the lead of the film hadn't been a male, Almost Heaven could easily pass for a Lifetime production. All the usual cliches of "Television for Women" flicks are here in abundance. There's the story of redemption. And a heart warming child who really digs the lead character. Not one, but two artificial road blocks much too easily overcome. A teary, weepy reunion underscored by a Phil Collins song. Mark and Taya's painful past which only comes out in the last 20 minutes. The mentor figure the lead opens up to despite their casual acquaintance relationship. If you want to see a Lifetime movie, go watch Lifetime. And if you want to make one, do so unabashedly. Don't subject the cast, crew and audience to tripe like this.

According to Piercy, location shooting took place in both Canada and the United Kingdom. The location shooting in the UK is simply beautiful to look at even if the story lets it down. With lush forests and rolling rivers, the scenery turns out to be the high point of the production. The actors do as much as they can with the story even if the script itself is too crammed with potential storylines to satisfy any of them satisfactorily. (I will give Piercy credit for using the sport of fishing. It's original and unique, just about the only part of the film that can be labeled that way.)