minerwerks

After seeing the trailer for 'Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist,' I joked to a friend that if someone were to design a movie specifically for me, this would probably be it. Let's break it down.

'Nick and Norah' appeared to be...
a) a teen comedy with a better than average chance of being good...
b) with a dash of whimsy and unabashed romanticism...
d) that takes place over the course of one night...
d) from an up-and-coming director with an indie pedigree...
e) featuring two appealing young stars...
f) and a hip indie music soundtrack.

I suppose if none of the above appeal to you, it probably won't matter whether I liked the movie or not. But if you can accept my claim to be able to fairly judge something so in tune with my sensibilities, you should read on. (footnote: I point to one 'Juno' as a film that seemed so right up my alley, yet left me a little cold. Good movie - cute even - but not in my top ten of the year.)

Nick (Michael Cera) is a music nut who has recently been dumped. He wallows in his lingering unrequited love by making a series of "closure" mix CDs with elaborate packaging. Norah (Kat Dennings) goes to school with Nick's ex, Tris (Alexis Dziena), and enjoys the discarded CDs that Tris laughingly trashes. Fate brings the two together at a nightclub where Nick's band is playing. In a bid to save face, Norah approaches Nick and asks him to pretend to be her boyfriend. When Norah discovers Nick is Tris' ex, she wants to take off, but Nick's bandmates see this as an opportunity to revive him from depression.

The rest of the film weaves a budding romance around a the search for a secret show by a band called Where's Fluffy? as well as the search for Norah's lost (and drunken) friend, Caroline. Threatening to pull the star-crossed lovers apart before they realize their destiny are Tal (Jay Baruchel), Norah's "friend with benefits" and Nick's ex, Tris, who seems jealous at the idea that Nick would ever stop pining for her.

On the surface, there's nothing incredibly original about 'Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist.' The more cynical might just write it off as a well-worn story grafted on to a hipster milieu for a quick cash in. But those who are willing to look deeper might notice a sincerity sorely missed in most films of this kind. I was captivated by the movie's youthful exuberance and it really drew out the hopeless romantic in me.

Both Cera and Dennings are incredibly appealing young actors who have a way with dialogue that comes off improvised and natural. Some scenes recall the breezy charm of Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke in 'Before Sunrise.' Cera and Dennings also infuse the characters' choices with believability, which is essential to accepting the various coincidences of the plot. Not to sell short the screenplay by Lorene Scafaria (based on a novel by Rachel Cohn & David Levithan), which is smart enough to turn a corner at such moments, rather than stacking something more unbelievable on top of them.

Kudos also go to Scafaria for building characters with emotional attachments and not exaggerated libidos. Sexuality is present and accounted for, but not as an overwhelming force that permeates the entire story. Incidentally, the film's most explicit moment is probably the most creative and tasteful presentation of youthful sexuality I've seen in a while.

Of course, I would be remiss to overlook the contribution that a talented director brings to the table on a film like this. Peter Sollett infuses 'Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist' with an engaging whimsy and a genial disposition that never comes off as corny. Sollett is a native New Yorker and the film displays an enormous love of the city, warts and all. The film may sanitize the city slightly and downplay the dangers of being in Brooklyn at 2 in the morning, but it also never looks like a film crew came along and made everything sparkle before cameras rolled. Surprisingly and pleasantly, the city feels like a large, inviting playground.

Even though 'Nick and Norah' did end up being all the things I expected it to be, it also had something extra - that magical ability to exceed expectations. That's always a pleasant surprise for a hardened, cynical moviegoer as myself.

I am not a child of the 70s.

I say this because it seems to be one of the main reasons I do not share the same reverence for the odd spectacle productions of that decade like 'Tommy' or 'The Man Who Fell to Earth.' I was going to throw 'Heavy Metal' in there, which is certainly a product of the 70s, even though it came out in 1981.

Which is also the year that this sort-of sequel to 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show' came out. Now, as much as I thoroughly enjoy 'Rocky Horrror' (with and without the crowd participation), I can buy into many of the criticisms of that film. They pitched the tone a bit too seriously, the pacing is erratic, and the movie never really communicates the same idea that the stage show originally did.

But 'Shock Treatment' is something completely different, and it struggles to be taken on its own terms. The All Movie guide says it is "hesitantly embraced" by 'Rocky Horror' fans, but that rings as a prespective of someone on the outside observing the freaks. There are 'Rocky Horror' fans who have tried to put the same audience participation template on 'Shock Treatment,' and while those results are mixed and lack a certain spontaneity, they do not represent or spoil the merits of the film.

'Shock Treatment' follows married Brad and Janet Majors as they reulctantly become pawns in the mechanizations of a fast food magnate named Farley Flavors who lords over his world of DTV - Denton Television. The film immediately contextualizes small town America in a television studio where dramas play out on various television series. I suppose this device would cause many people to tune out immediately, but if you accept the surreal setting the film has many odd charms and fun moments.

This is why I bring up films like 'Tommy' (and hell, let's also take 'The Wall' even though it came out a year after this film). I suppose the pedigree of being based on "important" rock music can carry a disconnected, overly pretentious, bizarre barrage of images and help it to be considered a classic. Why can't something just as surreal but with a more DIY bent be considered entertaining or worthy as well?

'Shock Treatment' is not deep, but it presages America's obsession with reality television, advertising overload and (particularly) the media's ability to lead people into making judgements on our fellow citizens based on rumor and conjecture.

But this is a musical, and judged soley on that basis, the songs are bright, clever and catchy. Richard O'Brien and Richard Hartley outdid themselves and created songs that work even better than the ones in 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show.' The songs cut a wide swath through the music of the time, encompassing classic show tune styles, brassy soul, disco (just a little) and even punk. But somehow, the score is coherent, and less of a rambling pastiche of styles than its predecessor.

Cliff de Young and Jessica Harper easily outshine Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon (the Brad and Janet of 'Rocky Horror'), not because of overall talent, but because they are appropriate for this film's incarnation of the roles (not to mention De Young and Harper sing their asses off). We don't get a lot of fancy musical choreography, but a couple of sequences are interestingly staged, cognizant of the camera and the conventions of editing.

Which brings up another point. 'Rocky Horror' worked hard but couldn't quite shake the feeling of being adapted from a stage play. On the other hand, 'Shock Treatment' was a film from the beginning and even though the settings are limited inside a giant television studio, the film makes the most of space and time (and fantasy), never feeling tied to one or two locations.

If you are ever in a forgiving mood and want to challenge your thoughts on this film, I encourage you to check it out again fresh. I'll be surprised if you don't find yourself singing,"Ooooh, shock treatment!" afterwards.

 

Last year's Super Bowl featured a car ad with a depressed assembly-line robot who jumps off a bridge. The car company faced some controvery over the suicide angle, and this just goes to prove exactly what I took away from the spot - they successfully managed to give a personality to a machine. Why else would people get so worked up over a hunk of metal toppling into the river? It's hard not to think of this watching Pixar's 'WALL-E,' which also hangs on the ability of the storytellers to make us care about a machine.

WALL-E is the last of a fleet of waste management robots designed to scurry around Earth's surface and pile our trash into towers. This particular robot, however, has become fascinated with the remnants of our world - a video tape of 'Hello, Dolly!,' christmas lights, Zippo lighters, bubble wrap are among the items brought back to WALL-E's makeshift home. One day a sleek probe named EVE is left on Earth and WALL-E is smitten. He watches sheepishly from afar as EVE momentarily abandons her programming and flies gracefully over the barren landscape.

As WALL-E courts EVE, her purpose is revealed - to collect evidence of living vegetation and return home. A ship soon arrives to collect EVE, and WALL-E becomes a stowaway to follow her. WALL-E is never deterred from his desire to find EVE, but we as the audience are next thrust into a kinetic, colorful and bizarre vision of the future of humankind represented by a giant ship called Axiom. As the fate of the humans becomes intertwined with EVE's mission and WALL-E's persistence, we are treated to a fun, exciting and thematically rich tale that explores the conflicts between our programming and our passions.

It's almost a given at this point that Pixar's storytelling gurus can string together compelling character moments and exciting setpieces with ease. I can't ever see having the same reaction as I did watching 'Toy Story' all those years ago, but I am always pleased that there are filmmakers who care about giving the audience great characters and exciting moments based on goodwill between the viewer and the story. As with last year's 'Ratatouille," Pixar takes a risk in placing so much faith in a protagonist that must overcome preconceived notions - how much can we care about something that we are used to understanding as inhuman? I'm not sure they have managed to solve all the believability issues in giving programmed machines personalities, but old-fashioned charm goes a long way.

The subtle themes of free will become more evident as the robots become intertwined in a drama with the humans, but a second viewing seems necessary to best take in the full meaning. And that's got to be one of the best ways to spend a summer afternoon this year.

There are two things I expected from this big-screen reinvention of 'Get Smart.' First, I figured Steve Carell would be charming and amusing (note I did not require 'hilarious') and second, that Anne Hathaway would be quite fetching. Expectation one turned out to be right on, and expectation two was actually surpassed. The question remains, however - is this enough to actually recommend the film?

As a fan of much 60s pop culture, I was completely aware of the TV series 'Get Smart' but I never watched any complete episodes. I can imagine the tone from much of the contemporary sitcoms of the time, though. I don't understand the outright vitriol against the idea of making a film with the characters and basic setup of the original without being faithful to the style or tone, however. There are people who consider this an "abomination," and that's just a flat out overreaction.

The truth is that this film is ultimately harmless and nowhere near as offensive as I'd feared. In the context of what passes for major studio fare today, it's actually not that dumb. The biggest sins of this film are mildly inconsistent characterization and a lack of great jokes (though there are a handful of acceptable ones). As an action film, it's completely passable, and it even manages to evoke a slightly more innocent era.

But people associate the "brand" of 'Get Smart' with comedy, and it seemed like a slam dunk to hire Steve Carell as the new Maxwell Smart. And, yes, this is great casting, but despite a fair attempt at a backstory, this Max is never fully realized. In the "character is action" department, we're mostly covered, but in a movie that gives us a no-nonsense, independent Agent 99, Max comes across as more of an idiot savant than a smart but inexperienced agent.

But this is just a mild romp and everyone involved is obviously having fun. Carell has the charisma to pass off half-baked material, and Hathaway is quite good throughout, even in the more serious moments. Sheer goodwill convinced me to overlook a ridiculous, slapstick airplane bathroom sequence that the rest of the audience seemed to enjoy. Everything else went down pretty smoothly.

In the end, with obligations to the original material satisfied, there remain some interesting possibilities for a follow-up. In particular, a last-minute cameo pre-sold me on a ticket, conditional on said actor returning, of course.

In the meantime, I hear there's a direct-to-video semi-sequel on the way(taking place in parallel to the feature film) featuring some of the minor characters of 'Get Smart.' I'm not so sold on this, but as long as it's not too crass of a cash-in, I might actually have fun with it.

Many film fans felt a tinge of sadness this past Sunday when we learned a major fire had broken out on the Universal Studios lot in Hollywood. Losses included the soundstage that housed a 'King Kong' attraction on the famous tram tour, New York and New England street facades and part of the courthouse square, most famous for the 'Back to the Future' films. Most controversially, however, was the loss of a vault that stored video tapes and film prints. Fears of the loss of Universal's storied history abound on the internet through the week.

On Sunday, Universal Studios president Ron Meyer was quoted that "nothing irreplaceable was lost." Theoretically, the only films found in this vault were archival prints, generally shipped to repertory theaters from this facility on the lot. The Vice President of Universal took the step of sending notice to exhibitors that "nearly 100%" of the archival prints had been destroyed and that bookings to be shipped from the lot were suspended pending inventory.

On Wednesday, Variety ran an article featuring interviews with film curators fanning the flames that the losses might be worse than reported. The curators suggest that new prints from older negatives may never look like the lost prints whether through fading, damage, or the simple change of materials and processes over time.

By most accounts, Universal has a great reputation for preservation and intends to replace the destroyed assets. But even though this may be true, there is bound to be a long-term effect felt primarily by the most devoted film buffs.

With the growing popularity of big-screen televisions and DVD, specialty film markets - independent and repertory film particularly - are attracting ever smaller audiences. And some art and specialty houses are resorting to cutting costs by dong screenings from DVD. I'm not sure if I am more saddened by the fact that I can walk into a classic movie house and be subjected to a DVD because actual film is too expensive, or that many people never notice the difference.

The fear is that even though Universal should be able to create new prints to replace the lost ones, there will be little or no demand for them to actually do so. With the cost of a single 35mm print in the neighborhood of $2,500-$6,000, potential return of $300-$500 every few years seems insufficient to justify the expense for obscure titles.

In the end, the damages suffered in the Universal fire become a reminder that the true experience of film - "as it was meant to be seen" as they say - is what is truly in danger. With increasing digital resolutions and decreasing costs for data storage, it becomes more and more likely that the public will primarily  (or exclusively) experience classic films on video or computer screens.

Unless you live in a very large market, specialty theaters can't draw audiences for 35 mm screenings of anything but first run films or a handful of absolutely undisputed classics ('Casablanca,' 'The Wizard of Oz,' etc.). Repertory theaters in cities such as San Francisco are even feeling the pinch. And though high-resolution digital projection is becoming more widely available, I can't yet muster the excitement to see "classic" films (which I define rather loosely as anything over a year old that I enjoy) in this format.

So while Universal can truthfully claim the studio did not lose anything that was irreplaceable, the world's most devoted film buffs may not be able to say the same. While Universal may have the elements for some titles protected in deep storage, there will only be videos in general circulation, a merely adequate stand-in for the glorious celluloid that these films originated on.

I'm sure every film fan has that long list of movies that they should see, barring those distractions of work, family and life. As a huge fan of 'The Apartment,' I know that I my list includes many of the works of legendary writer and director Billy Wilder. Just a few years ago, I noticed the stir that resulted from Criterion finally bringing Wilder's 'Ace in the Hole' to DVD when it had never been available on video at all. This skyrocketed the film near the top of that mental list, and having just gotten around to seeing it, I was not disappointed.

The plot follows selfish, manipulative newspaperman Chuck Tatum (Kirk Douglas) as he stumbles into a great "human interest" tale - roadside curio shop owner Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict) ends up trapped in a New Mexico mineshaft while searching for Indian artifacts. Leo's wife, Lorraine (Jan Sterling), initially hopes to use the incident as cover to finally leave her husband, but Tatum appeals to her greed, painting the picture of all the money that could roll in from curious tourists. After demonstrating the power of getting the story in the Albuquerque paper, Tatum also manipulates the sheriff (Ray Teal) into helping to prolong the crisis, turning the growing circus atmosphere to their advantage.

From what I gather through the grapevine, the initial box office failure and the general grim tone of this film have kept it off home video for years. Now that it can widely be found, it's easy to recommend, and certainly not a surprise to those used to the diversity of modern anti-heroes and general personages of questionable morals we've seen in movies over the past couple decades. There's also no question that the themes of media manipulation and the gullibility of the public were ahead of their time in a much more innocent era (1951).

As might be expected from Billy Wilder, the script of 'Ace in the Hole' is the major strength. Characterization is very solid and the plot  is quite engrossing. The film also keeps itself fresh with extra details - for instance, we occasionally see the first family to stop in on the site of the accident and through them we get a view of how the media affects the general public.

As a modern viewer, my biggest hurdle to enjoying films of decades far past is the acting style. Quite acceptable and even exceptional for the period, some of the scenes of 'Ace in the Hole' now appear melodramatic. As the film moves on, the performances become more grounded, and as we get much more engrossed in the plot, the distraction is minimized.

Despite the distraction of some dated approaches, much of the film holds up quite well. Wilder claimed not to like fancy camera work, but there are a handful of sweeping shots in this film that likely made jaws drop back in the day. One of these follows a group of people off an arriving train as the join the assembled masses outside the mineshaft. Another follows the distraught father of Leo Minosa as he hands drinks around the workers on top of the hill who are operating a drill to get into the shaft and rescule Leo. It's amazing to see lines of cars and throngs of people in the distance from this perspective.

In addition to the great film, the Criterion DVD is worth checking out for the usual bevy of bonuses. A second disc includes a Wilder interview film called 'Portrait of a 60% Perfect Man' and additional Q&A from an American Film Institute appearance in the 1980s. Listening to Wilder dismiss with distaste the contemporary system of corporate moviemaking that has been entrenched over the past two decades is priceless.

Nothing like a tragic loss in the film world to remind me how broad the art of film can be and how many worthy films are out there that I have yet to view.

Earlier this year, when reviewing the Oscar nominees for Best Picture, I singled out Sydney Pollack's performance in 'Michael Clayton' as being particularly good. In the later part of his career - the part most familar to myself as a relative youngster - Pollack was best known as a producer and actor. While I knew of him as a director, it turns out I have been ridiculously neglectful of the man's filmography.

Of course, most people have seen 'Tootsie,' the 1982 comedy that starred a cross-dressing Dustin Hoffman. But other than this blockbuster, the only Pollack-directred film I've actually seen is 'The Firm' (not a bad film, if I may say). But Pollack, we should not forget, was an Oscar-winner. He directed 'Out of Africa,' starring Meryl Streep and Robert Redford, two of the cinema's most likable performers.

And though Redford has been in some of my favorite films ('All the President's Men,' 'Sneakers'), I haven't seen a single one of Pollack's films starring Mr. Sundance himself. There's the political thriller 'Three Days of the Condor,' the prototypical romance 'The Way We Were,' and the western drama 'Jeremiah Johnson,' among others (seven in total).

In the later years, I had seen and admired Pollack's acting in 'Eyes Wide Shut' and 'Changing Lanes,' and I had expected to see his directorial effort 'The Interpreter' when it was released, but it just didn't happen.

And of all the films in Pollack's filmography, why on earth have I never seen 'They Shoot Horses, Don't They?'

Thankfully, we have a rich filmography as a director, actor and producer to enjoy for years to come, but it's a shame that Mr. Pollack had to depart this Earth while he still had vibrancy and talent to offer the film industry. He will be missed.

About 20 minutes into 'Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull,' there is a humdinger of a chase that glides and slides through the streets and corridors around the campus where the legendary Dr. Jones (Harrison Ford) is a Professor. I'm not sure exactly how the conclusion of the chase affected the plot, but I do remember that it ended with a punchline - and nobody in the theater laughed. It's sad to say, but a heck of a lot of this new adventure plays like a parody of the (much better) films that have gone before.

I'd like to think I gave the film a fair shot. As with the previous Indiana Jones adventures, we open on something natural that resembles the Paramount logo, followed by the credits in the elegant typeface that has graced each film (save 'Temple of Doom'). A simple, fun sequence orients us that this story takes place in 1957, and we end on a military base hidden in the middle of the desert. So far, so good. It's even exciting to get our first glimpse of Indy's fedora, coming to rest on its familar head in sillhouette. But then people start speaking, and it's all downhill from there.

Harrison Ford seems more than happy to be here, but I really question whether his choice was more dependent on the payday rather than any allegiance to the beloved character he personifies. There is the occasional spark of the Indy we love, but too much of this performance feels unfamiliar, contradictory and (dare I say it) lazy. There is a plot here, too, but I'll be damned if I couldn't make heads or tails of it. But see, it doesn't matter because (SPOILER ALERT) there's a nuclear blast, a chase through the forest that includes a travelling swordfight, a boat that plummets down three waterfalls, giant ants, and ultimately, an alien ship. Excuse me, an "interdimensional being" ship. I hope H.R. Geiger got some royalties on these updated Crystal Skulls - that should tell you a lot. Forgive me for laying it all out, but I don't have much allegiance to protecting a story that so assaulted my intelligence. It truly does play like a Sci-Fi Channel original movie but with Indiana Jones instead of some twenty-something hack.

Along the way, we are reintroduced to Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), Indy's love interest from the 'Lost Ark' adventure. Evidently, Marion was always the love of his life, and with a tossed-off line worthy of a Lifetime movie, those years spent split apart are forgiven and they get all pie-eyed over each other. They are brought together again by Marion's son (Shia LaBeouf), who enters the story trying to locate a missing colleague (John Hurt). All these characters are underwritten and underplayed, and their interactions don't amount to a hill of ants in the plot. Even the requisite baddie, a Russian agent played by Cate Blanchett, is severely underutilized. I was bored and distracted, and I lost track of who these people were and what they were trying to accomplish.

My theory on what went wrong here is that Spielberg and Lucas have unwittingly given in to their worst instincts. A large chunk at the front of this film plays an awful lot like Spielberg's misbegotten attempt at comedy, '1941,' even coming awfully close to copying a couple of the overblown setpieces in that film. The tail end, sad to say, has all the coherency and sense of 'Howard the Duck.' Maybe the idea was to run with the times, and instead of making a WWII-era serial pastiche, they wanted to make a pastiche of nuclear-age B-movies. Either way, the choices are so ridiculous because they don't respect the integrity of the Indiana Jones character.

When they first announced Ford would be coming back as Indiana Jones, many wondered if they would address how Indy has aged. The resulting film proves that the age isn't really that big a deal. The real missed opportunity here is that Jones is a man out of his own time. He's still an archeologist and a professor, but the word around him is different. There's a bit of humor up front that plays on this idea, but the idea never resurfaces, left in the dust of some broad and ridiculous setpieces with hollow ciphers in place of characters.

In late 2005, my friend Tony and I had finished post-production on an extremely low budget movie and Tony set about figuring if there was any market for it. This brought the world of film festivals to our attention.

I had previously had a bit of experience with a festival, working one year with the Florida Film Festival, hosted at the beautiful Enzian Theater in the Orlando area. That, plus a return for several screenings in the following years, formed a lot of my ideas about what a film festival should be.

The year I worked, I got to meet John Pierson, noted producer's rep and author of the indie film chronicle, 'Spike, Mike, Slackers & Dykes.' At the time, I was just impressed he helped sell 'Clerks' to Miramax. Interestingly enough, one of the judges that year was Robert Hawk, who was the original champion of 'Clerks,' even before Pierson came aboard, but I was unaware of his role in the legend. I had a lot to learn.

The Florida Film Festival had a lot going for it. Parties, great guests, interesting films, support in the community, enthusiastic founders and staff. It was a good model. This was in the years right after 'Pulp Fiction,' when "independent film" was entering a new phase, for better or worse. Suddenly, an indie film could rule the box office and launch a career. Film students were excited, and a film festival was the place to be. 'Blair Witch' was right around the corner.

It was nearly a decade later when Tony turned to me and asked, "Do you want to start a film festival?" The indie film world had seen a lot of changes, but leaps in technology and the internet had worked the miracles that revolutionized desktop publishing. Kids with cameras had the power to make films, but it wasn't immediately apparent how to get them seen. We wanted to get into that business, meeting like-minded people who walso wanted to make films and help find their audiences.

We had the idea, we had the model, we had the passion, and we had... uh, less than seven months.

 

Every year I walk into a movie theater at least thirty times and the number of films viewed increases a lot if you include DVDs. Each time a new feature unspools, I am hoping to be swept away, emotionally engaged or otherwise exhilarated. If I'm lucky, one or two films a year will connect with me on such a deep level that I feel completely connected to the people who made it. These experiences are what keep the whole process in motion.

At first, I had been generally uninterested in seeing 'Dan in Real Life.' It's not Steve Carell's fault... or wait, maybe it is, since he chose to make 'Evan Almighty.' No, I'll forgive him that one since 'The 40 Year-Old Virgin' was so great. But what a stupid poster for 'Dan in Real Life' - Steve's head on pancakes. Huh? The trailer was not too inspiring, either. But eventually one factor changed the whole equation. Enter Peter Hedges.

Hedges is definitely not a household name. He has only one pervious directorial credit and just four other writing credits. But what a selection it is. Hedges' first film was an adaptation of his novel, 'What's Eating Gilbert Grape.' That film, starring Johnny Depp, was a revelation to me in 1993. The story was mildly quirky, but extremely heartfelt and I identified with the character of Gilbert Grape. A decade later, Hedges finally directed a film of his own, 'Pieces of April,' also a quirky yet heartfelt story of family with knockout performances. Both movies rank among my all-time favorites. So when I heard this was the man behind 'Dan in Real Life,' I knew I had to see it. It took a few weeks, but I finally made the time this past weekend.

The previously mentioned Steve Carell stars as Dan, a widower with three daughters. He gives advice to others through a local newspaper column, but he is himself struggling to be the best father he can as his daughters begin to assert their independence. The story takes Dan and the kids to Rhode Island for a family gathering. The next morning, Dan heads to a local bookstore to pick up a newspaper and ends up hitting it off with a customer named Marie (Juliette Binoche). Dan's elation about this happenstance is short lived when he discovers Marie is actually dating his brother, Mitch (Dane Cook). What exactly is Dan to do now?

There are some things about 'Dan in Real Life' that don't quite work. There are some story elements that feel a bit too "scripted," and some moments are played a bit too broadly and feel distanced from the rest of the film. On the other hand, I connected so deeply with this film that it really stirred up the emotions.

The theme that speaks to me so strongly here is the difficulty of balancing obligations with the hope of personal satisfaction. Like Gilbert Grape before him, Dan Burns is a man with deeply felt family obligations who becomes conflicted when his passions are stirred. Dan is a parent, Gilbert is a de facto father to his little brother. In Dan's case, the loss of his wife has made his job more of a burden. In Gilbert's case, the withdrawal of his mother from her role has created his burden. Both characters are cut off from the partner that should reciprocate and assist to make the burdens more bearable. Both characters struggle to be committed, focused providers. But the acceptance of responsibility cannot erase the yearning that everyone feels to have something of their own, a passion and desire beyond the normal routine. To be accepted and have your feelings validated by another.

In Dan's case, his obligations are further tested by having the object of his passion turn up as his brother's new girlfriend. I could personally sense that conflict - to acknowledge your deepest desires would hurt your dearest loved ones, so the feelings must remain hidden. As many of us know, however, that's easier said than done. Many scenes in 'Dan in Real Life' amp up the tension of this scenario, and they are presented more or less in a very casual, realistic tone. Hedges' characters are allowed to be as real as a movie can allow. Many scenes feel extremely natural and improvised, and this only makes the emotions stronger.

Another thing that often helps seal the deal on a film for me is song choice. 'Dan in Real Life' features some fine songs by Sondre Lerche, including one extremely pleasant surprise, a cover of Elvis Costello's "Human Hands." My jaw literally dropped when I realized which song was playing (honest, you should have been there). Another musical highlight in the film is when Dane Cook and Steve Carell perform the Pete Townshend classic "Let My Love Open the Door." The scene where this performance takes place is so pregnant with emotion, I'm getting misty eyed just thinking about it (Yeah, I'm a softie that way). The scene is all the better because the guys do the song in a natural warts-and-all kind of way, not some typical Hollywood pre-recorded and pitch corrected fake-out.

Peter Hedges work on 'Dan in Real Life' has maintained my confidence in his talents. I think it's a shame that this adorable film had to be marketed as more of a goofy comedy to attract audiences. As fans of TV's 'The Office' know, Carell is the king of awkward moments with the acting chops to back it up. What a joy it is to see such a likable performer as Carell making smart choices in film roles. I would love to see this team work together again.

 

There's a lot of hope in this 'Great World of Sound.' A group of eager salesmen have been granted the title of "music producers" and turned loose on towns throughout the southern United States with the hope of finding new talent. Then there are the performers who answer the call for auditions, hoping to catch a break and record a hit song. Both groups, however, are unaware of the hope that carries the greatest weight here, hinted at by the film's first image of a regular old vinyl record being spray painted gold.

The main character here is the honest yet naive Martin (Pat Healy), who comes into this story with a string of past jobs and past loves. After being hired by Great World of Sound Productions, he is genuinely excited by the prospect of finding undiscovered talent. The money could allow him to run a home office selling the homemade crafts his girlfriend (Rebecca Mader) produces in the garage. Martin buddies up with a charismatic new hire named Clarence (Kene Holliday), and soon the duo is sent on the road to "audition" hopefuls who dream of having a hit song, with the caveat that the prospects must provide some "investment" up front to help make that dream come true.

Right off the bat, most viewers are going to find the whole operation suspicious (that record album shot pretty much sets the tone). Some might question why a guy like Martin wouldn't realize this, but he is indeed blinded by his hope at first. It's inevitable that Martin will discover the unsavory nature of the job, but how he deals with this realization carries some surprises. This is not a world of storybook optimism, yet it is not irredeemably cruel. There is an implication throughout that a little bit of personal responsibility and skepticism should help us avoid being coned ourselves.

The film's plot is straightforward, but the running time is padded slightly by a string of audition scenes utilizing a bit of 'Borat'-inspired trickery. Real musicians were brought in for auditions and only told afterwards that the hard sell for cash was for the sake of a film denouncing the practice. I don't object to this ethically, but stylistically, it doesn't fit perfectly with the rest of the film. More savvy viewers will detect the subtle differences in camera movement and performance. It should be noted, however, that Healy and Holliday are excellent improvisers, and their interactions with the non-actors are completely convincing. Some of the performances are even good, but a little of this goes a long way, and all the material included ends up a tad redundant.

Another reason the audition scenes are distracting is because the film surrounding them is quite well-crafted and performed. Director/co-writer Craig Zobel has perfectly cast this film and keeps the actors' performances very naturalistic. The supporting characters, particularly the bosses at Great World of Sound (Robert Longstreet and John Baker), all make the most of their limited time on-screen. Zobel has been a production manager on some of the films of David Gordon Green ('Undertow', 'All the Real Girls'), and 'Great World of Sound' shares his affinity for the south and intimate, understated human drama. Green returns the favor here by taking on producer duties.

Like most debut features, 'Great World of Sound' isn't perfect, but it shows a great deal of promise. Zobel handles some tricky material thematically and even manages to keep things stylistically interesting. My hope is that he continues to make singularly challenging yet entertaining films like this one.

If I had to guess where I was yesterday on the spectrum of understanding of the events surrounding the Iraq War, I would have hopefully considered myself around the center, maybe slightly on the side of having a bit more knowledge than average. After watching 'No End In Sight' today, I realized I may know less than I thought.

I tend to find a lot of discussion about Iraq rarely rises above the level of justification for saving the country from an evil man or writing off the whole exercise as a fraud because of the administration's lies. This film takes into account both points of view, but is not overwhelmed by either one. Director Charles Ferguson has taken a predominantly scholarly approach to the material. However, the candid attitudes of interview subjects juxtaposed with archive footage create an underlying sense of unease. As with many documentaries of this type, an overly manipulative music score floats through the entire piece.

If there is a bias to be considered here, it would seem Ferguson considers many decisions involving Iraq to have been made with negligence. Even though a lot of the commentary here could be considered to be colored by hindsight, most of the people interviewed come across as honest and authoritative. The average citizen will not know most of the names of these interviewees, but it is impossible to deny their personal involvement in the Iraq situation through positions within the military or government.

The documentary does manage to present some contradictory comments via a security and defense advisor named Walter Slocombe. The film stumbles for a few moments in the middle by playing up the differences between Slocombe's statements and those of Jay Garner, who had been placed in the position of heading the reconstruction of Iraq. Ferguson's hard scrutiny of Slocombe's statements stands in contrast to the treatment of other subjects, and creates an unneeded digression.

The consensus of those interviewed, however, is that all decisions about Iraq filtered down from only a few major players - Donald Rumsfeld, Paul Wolfowitz, Condoleeza Rice, L. Paul Bremer - who all declined to be interviewed. One might accuse the film of being inflammatory or propagandist in the absence of these points of view, but in the end, the justifications matter less than the actual consequences that currently exist.

It is those consequences that are brought into clear focus at the conclusion of 'No End In Sight.' After presenting a picture of a country extensively looted, with its cultural institutions and historical archives abjectly destroyed and a large population stripped of their livelihoods, we are left to consider the future. A graph showing the sections of Baghdad occupied by groups of opposing interests and a tally of the expected dollar costs are left to speak for themselves.

 

There is a stable of actors that have maintained a great deal of credibility in my mind basically because I associate them with a period in my life where I was discovering a wide variety of films. Julie Delpy and Adam Goldberg will always bring me back to the mid 90s when I was spent my college years overdosing on all the movies I could. Goldberg was the neurotic guy in the backseat during 'Dazed and Confused.' Delpy was the adorable love interest of 'Before Sunrise.'

Neither has broken out as a major star, but both have had consistent, intriguing careers. Goldberg wrote and directed a feature a few years back, 'I Love Your Work,' for which he provided some incidental music. Now it's Delpy's turn writing, directing and providing the music for her own film (she edits, too!), Goldberg is on board as Delpy's on-screen American boyfriend.

'2 Days in Paris' opens as Marion (Delpy) and Jack (Goldberg) are arriving in Paris, and we can tell there is a bit of discomfort setting in. Jack has been taking pictures the whole trip and has been struck with food poisoning. Now in Paris, they have to stay in Marion's tiny, aging apartment, which just happens to be upstairs from her parents' home. At first, the film feels a lot like 'Before Sunrise,' with the two characters walking through Paris having discussions about love and beliefs - saying a lot but stopping short of a few difficult truths. Eventually, the story opens up as we meet Marion's parents (Marie Pillet and Albert Delpy) and sister (Alexia Landeau). There's also a handful of former lovers that seem to pop up everywhere the couple goes, including an art opening, a friend's party and a restaurant.

The plot here is pretty basic, essentially a series of episodes that keep striking the note that Jack is harboring some serious jealousy issues. Delpy's Marion narrates, firmly putting the audience's sympathies with her right off the bat. The film attempts to give Marion a flaw in her willingness to leap into arguments a bit too easily, but Delpy's performance and writing conspire to make her very endearing despite this. Jack, on the other hand isn't really drawn as a likable guy. We don't have a sense of his background like we do with Marion. Goldberg is particularly good at the sarcastic, neurotic type, but even when he jokes or has an experience that should be somewhat emotional, he's always uncomfortable. As a choice, it's valid, but it certainly doesn't help us believe what Marion sees in this man in the first place.

Thankfully, the film is full of great dialogue, great scenery, and a number of amusing sequences. As veterans of Richard Linklater's work, both performers understand how appealing a naturalistic performance can be. We can even tell that actors speaking French are doing a great job. Delpy borrows some tricks from Linklater's bag, but who can blame her? 

Despite Goldberg's performance as a generally unlikable guy, '2 Days in Paris,' is still quite endearing. The film has a quirky sensibility that just mildly tweaks reality (a pinch of 'Amelie') but never takes attention away from the leads. It may just be fluff for film buffs, but that's still better than the usual lineup at the cineplex these days.

The cover for the screener of '13 Tzameti' is black and white except for some splashes of red, obviously evoking splattered blood. The review quoted there uses the quite visceral word "gruesome." I found myself looking at this seriously wondering, Do I really want to watch this film? If you find yourself asking the same question, the correct answer is "yes," by the way.

The setup is simple, yet mysterious. A young man (Georges Babluani) is taking roofing jobs to help earn his family some much-needed money. He happens to overhear the old man who hired him talk about not having enough money to pay, but he also hears talk of an opportunity for huge earnings that may arrive at any time. Sure enough, an envelope shows up with a hotel receipt and a train ticket. When the old man commits suicide, circumstances put the ticket in the hands of the young man, and he decides to see what this mysterious opportunity is all about.

For the sake of best enjoying this film, I would think it unfair to elaborate much more on the events that follow, though you might find details elsewhere. Suffice it to say that the circumstances this young man finds himself involved in are appropriately dangerous and outrageous, yet they are rendered here with such precision as to be completely engrossing. The strange competition our hero is compelled to participate in is made startlingly realistic through an abundance of small, relatable details. The emotions of everyone involved - pride, greed and fear - are portrayed so vividly that we can't help but be drawn in.

This pleasant surprise of a thriller is the work of French director Gela Babluani. Instead of the kinetic style so common today, Babluani uses classic, uncomplicated compositions with steady, fluid camera movements. All of this is filmed in sumptuous black and white, by the way. The persistent mystery and slowly building suspense in the early part of the film recall the works of Alfred Hitchcock. The middle, however, is a wholly unique experience, executed with a perfect sense of building tension.

In the end, however, the film becomes a victim of its own strengths. The opening is suspenseful and leisurely. The middle portion is suspenseful and intense. The final portion of the film is again leisurely, but can't quite hold us with suspense after such a draining middle portion. Despite the flawed ending, '13 Tzameti' is quite intriguing, and much more thrilling than most films that purport to be thrillers.

The word "tzameti," as far as I can figure, is for the number 13, which would make the title technically '13 13.' One might also note that the director is planning an English language remake in color. Only time will tell if this turns out to be a bad idea or not.

I am not really a fan of biopics. In most of the ones I've seen, time is a distraction from the drama, mostly because the film endeavors to make use of a great amount of material in a short format. But in the hands of talented writers and filmmakers, biopics can rise above by having purpose - a reason to exist beyond telling the story of some recognizable figure. 'Talk to Me' is one of those films. Being only "inspired by a true story," there is some dramatic license at work here.

This take on the story exists as a relationship drama between Petey Greene (Don Cheadle) and Dewey Hughes (Chiwetel Ejiofor). Dewey works for a Washington D.C. R&B station struggling to keep up with the times. Petey has been serving time in prison, but has found his calling as a disc jockey, "telling it like it is" to the prison crowds between records. Freshly sprung from jail, Petey scoops up his girlfriend (Taraji P. Henson) and barges into the radio station looking for a job. For a brief period, the film plays like a variation on the Howard Stern film, 'Private Parts,' but Greene's battles against authority carry much more weight, as they come across as a struggle to put a voice to the disenfranchised audience.

But the meat of the film involves Greene's rise to prominence and how his relationship with Hughes changes. Instead of being singularly concerned with telling Petey Greene's story, the drama is structured around the friendship between Petey and Dewey. This begins to take the film down a sentimental road in the final moments, but for the majority of the time, the story is smartly built on the idea that these two men have a distinct need for each other that blossoms into friendship.

At the center of the film are two fine performances by Cheadle and Ejiofor. On one hand, Cheadle has never had such a great showcase to be outrageous, but Greene is also a nuanced, flawed figure. Ejiofor is similarly gifted for nuance, infusing his Dewey with intelligence and vulnerability. The film's supporting cast is pretty strong as well. Henson's role as Greene's loyal girlfriend is flashy and fun, but ultimately pivotal to the story. Martin Sheen brings a lot of authority in his role as the station's manager, but it calls for different shades perhaps once or twice in the whole film. Cedric the Entertainer is, well, rather entertaining in a small role as another of the station's show hosts. The soundtrack is yet another notable supporting player, with dozens of classic R&B tunes that (pardon the cliche) had my toes tapping in the aisles.

It's interesting to note that the film does a solid job as a period piece, effectively mixing vintage and recreated news footage in some cases. One scene presents a fascinating recreation of a James Brown live performance from the late '60s. The film also includes one scene that I'm a total sucker for - they recreate a broadcast of 'The Tonight Show' using video footage of an actual program and having actors appear in the out-of-focus background, giving the impression it's actually happening. But all the period bells and whistles are merely in service of the "true story" aspects of the film. The heart of the story - the relationships - could be transposed to present day and be no less effective.

 

I first considered myself at a disadvantage to comment upon a filmed version of 'The Great Gatsby,' being that I hadn't read the book for years, and even then, I really wasn't old or experienced enough to really appreciate it. But this is instead the best way to approach a film adaptation of a novel - if you have no prejudices based on another incarnation, you can be free to interpret the material fresh.

I last saw the 1974 film version of 'The Great Gatsby' at the same time I read the novel - roughly 15 years ago when I was in high school. At that time, I can't remember the film making much impression on me, other than seeing a parallel to the character Robert Redford played in 'Indecent Proposal.' Today, it's hard to believe this film came out in the midst one of Hollywood's greatest periods. I was surprised to see Francis Ford Coppola credited as the screenwriter. This film was released, in fact, the same year that Coppola's masterpieces 'The Godfather Part II' and 'The Conversation' were released. Actually comparing 'The Conversation' to 'The Great Gatsby,' the two films seem to come from completely different eras of filmmaking.

The story is told through the eyes of Nick Carraway (Sam Waterston), who lives in a modest Long Island home next door to the mysterious Gatsby (Robert Redford), who it turns out carries a torch for Nick's cousin Daisy (Mia Farrow). The tale eventually turns to tragedy worthy of Shakespeare, though as it plays out in this film version, it feels contrived. The biggest sabotage to this film is putting too much emphasis on the Daisy-Gatsby romance, carried on with much gauzy, soft-focus photography and sappy music. I'm not sure what audiences thought of this stuff in the '70s, but I know it's laughable to modern audiences (ask any of the hundreds of people who showed up to Tampa Theatre this past weekend). The spends a lot of time building up the characters coming together, then revels in their time together, neglecting the thematic reasons it all happens. The romance is its own end.

A lot of the film feels as if it were directed for the stage. Some performances (particularly Farrow's) are ridiculously over-the-top, as if the actors were trying to make their presence felt in the rafters. In scenes that involve more than dialogue, the film is hobbled by perfunctory staging and editing that feels like cheap television work.

The tragedy of 'Gatsby' for me is that there are a lot of ideas swimming around under the surface that are never quite crystalized. Bruce Dern turns in an interesting performance as Daisy's husband, Tom, spouting off ignorantly about the world, but not as a caricature. The themes about the world of class and privilege lacking morality are glossed over in some ways, but other elements of the story are incredibly heavy handed (the visual and theme of the Dr. T.J. Eckleburg billboard are horribly belabored). The scenes of Gatsby's parties are effective spectacles however, with various patrons dancing and drinking with abandon, spilling over into fountains and in some cases, never leaving. But all of that spectacle never paid off thematically. All it did was make me want to return to the novel and see what this story was supposed to be about in the first place.

'Back to the Future' has been a favorite film of mine since I was ten years old. That was my age when it was originally in theaters and I chose it over 'Weird Science' one fateful evening. In all the years since, I've probably paid more critical attention to the film's sequels and the other works of Robert Zemeckis, mostly because the original film was nearly perfect in my mind.

This past weekend, I was able to revisit 'Back to the Future' with an audience of mostly families. It wasn't screened on film, but it was a solid presentation from DVD with surround sound. I wasn't surprised that the film still held my attention, but there were some things that took me by surprise and even a couple things that made the movie seem oddly dated.

For those who may not remember, 'Back to the Future' is a time-travel fantasy that follows Marty McFly (Michael J. Fox) on an accidental trip back in time via a time-travelling Delorean invented by Doc Brown (Christopher Lloyd). While stuck in 1955, Marty has to contend not only with getting back to his own time, but he also must rectify the mistake of interferring with his own parents' meeting. If Marty can't get them together, he may cease to exist.

One of the things I always loved about 'Back to the Future' was that the script was quite dense and so many small things paid off later in the story. But watching now, I see things in the film that are a bit over the top and shouldn't really work. Looking back, the film goes out of its way to paint Doc Brown as an eccentric - the giant amplifier and the "25 minutes slow" clock experiement in the opening scene stretch credibility - and one can even note that Christopher Lloyd was more restrained in the sequels. The film is prone to cheap physical humor as well - I now know that kids love to see Michael J. Fox fall over. And seriously, as fun as the "Johnny B. Goode" scene may be, does it really serve a purpose to the story? But when it comes down to it, these flaws somehow add to the character of the film - things that shouldn't work just do. In serving story and logic, there are things in the film that should righfully be cut. But if they were gone, the film just wouldn't be as "fun."

Another thing that surprised me was that the dialogue, while quite clever, was not as smart as I had remembered.  The performances go a long way toward selling this material, however. Michael J. Fox may oversell a look or two, but he is often spot on with Marty's incredulous reactions to the 1950s world he find himself thrust into. Crispin Glover and Lea Thompson play the parents in the present (1985) and the past. The makeup that subtly ages the actors still holds up to scrutiny. Glover comes off the most impressive in distinguishing three incarnations of George McFly, with Thompson infusing her 1955 incarnation with a bit too much innocence at times.

One thing that impressed me on review of 'Back to the Future' was the use of music - particularly balancing hit pop music of the day with score. In fact, it's many minutes in to the film when you first hear actual score music, and that accompanies the introduction of the Delorean time machine. Up to that point, you only hear contemporary songs. In fact, unlike the first sequel to this film, the "theme" music doesn't play with the opening titles. Holding back the score until then helps characterize the present day in contrast to 1955, for one thing. I think this should be a lesson to filmmakers not to overuse score.

While not on the record about such things, I think that director Robert Zemeckis would probably regret some of his choices in 'Back to the Future.' Zemeckis' previous work at this point had been very broad, including a screenplay for the bombastic Spielberg comedy '1941' and the dark comedy 'Used Cars.' His work with building character has much improved since, culminating in the Oscar-winning 'Forrest Gump.' As previously mentioned, the characters in 'Back to the Future' are sometimes played too broadly. And there are several moments in the film that come off as sight gags that interrupt the flow of the story, complete with over-the-top knowing looks or double takes. These are things I don't think would have been satisfactory to the director just a few years later.

Some of Zemeckis' recurring motifs are quite present, however. Zemeckis will often play with the idea of taking a familiar scene or person and changing the context. In his debut, 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand,' a group of teenagers are present at the Beatles' debut on 'The Ed Sullivan Show.' In 'Forrest Gump,' the title character is thrust into an endless string of historical situations, showing up in newsreels and familiar events. In 'Back to the Future,' Marty returns to the present 10 minutes early to witness a scene from earlier in the story from a new perspective. While a lot of directors would re-use footage the audience had seen before, Zemeckis gives completely different views of the sequence, from Marty's perspective. Zemeckis also adds a lot of detail to his scenes that makes them interesting for multiple viewings. I had never noticed, until now, a couple times that Crispin Glover blended into the action behind other characters and slipped away quietly. The dressing of the famous "town square" set on the Universal back lot is impeccable for both 1955 and 1985 and one of the few instances, in my opinion, where a backlot street seems realistic.

Quite apparent from this film as well is Zemeckis' ability to captivate an audience with suspense and action. 'Back to the Future' contains more than one showstopper moment. The build-up of George's confrontation with arch-nemesis Biff is perfectly designed (resulting in applause at the screening I attended), as is the following sequence at the "Enchantment Under The Sea" dance where Marty begins to fade from existence. These pale in comparison, however, to the big finale where Marty and Doc must contend with various obstacles to make sure the time machine and a bolt of lightning intersect at a single crucial moment.

All of the sequences I just mentioned are so well planned that you can't help but get caught up in the excitement. The story shines in the invention of complications to all the obstacles and adding them at the crucial moment. As an audience-friendly comedy, the ending of 'Back to the Future' is never really in question. But even though you probably know the ultimate resolution, you forget about it with each of the unexpected smaller crises that come up as you are racing to that resolution.

In the end, the sense of fun, good performances and a true sense of excitement carry 'Back to the Future' much further than other films of its ilk. Despite the flaws that I can now pick out on hindsight, 'Back to the Future' is still a very watchable, entertaining film.