Just Some More New Release DVDs – No Big Whoop

Yep, some more recent DVD viewings are now blog-worthy: 



RESCUE DAWN (Dir. Werner Herzog, 2006)




"Inspired by true events in the life of Dieter Dengler" so says the credits at the beginning. After some basic-training back story, this film wastes no time - on his first tour of duty in 1966 Vietam Dengler's (the yet again reliable Christian Bale) shot down over Laos within the first 10 minutes; 15 minutes in he is captured by the enemy. 



Bale refuses to sign a war criminal document and is dragged, literally, to a Viet Cong camp to be held captive. That's what the bulk of this story is about - his and a few other fellow inmates (including the dead on and almost dead looking Steven Zahn and Jeremy Davies) tortuous imprisonment where there thoughts of escape are discouraged as futile from every angle. Dengler doesn't think so and plots to overcome all obstacles. 



Obviously this story wouldn't be told if he didn't do just that - so no accusations of Spoilers please. With its gripping storyline and clarity of vision RESCUE DAWN has a lot going for it but is bogged down with unconvincing dialogue and Herzog's choice of fast fades that make this choppy where it should be fluid. 



"The quick have their sleepwalkers, and so do the dead" Bale says early on in his captivity and it falls flat - really not provoking much of a reaction. Perhaps because this film seems to sleepwalk all too quickly into oblivion. 



HAIRSPRAY (Dir. Adam Shankman, 2007)






It would be hard to dump on this one. Though I have friends who are big fans of the original John Waters 1988 movie and its soundtrack, then the 2002 Tony winning Broadway musical adaptation and its cast recording, I didn’t understand why a new film version (with its soundtrack) was necessary – I mean wasn’t this pretty much covered? 



But this movie is so damn cheery – earnest and smiling right at you without a cynical frame on any of its reels that questioning or dismissing it makes one feel like a Blue Meanie. The most enjoyable of the cast is Nikki Blonsky (who fits into Rikki Lake’s shoes perfectly) as Tracy Turnblad. Blonsky is a triple threat who she out-sings, out-dances, and yes, out-acts everybody here.



As the perky beyond belief Tracy she causes a stir on a local Baltimore American Bandstand type show in 1962 when she exclaims that “everyday should be Negro day” (the show only had one day a month that black kids were allowed to dance on the air). With her angsty-acting friends (Zac Efron, Ellijah Kelley, and Amanda Bynes) behind her, they plot to take over the program to sing the praises of progress and integration.





The supposed trump card here is - taking over the part from the legendary Divine - John Travolta in drag (including a fairly realistic looking fat-suit) but he and husband Christopher Walken as Tracy’s parents never rise above the level of SNL sketch caricatures. Travolta, who looks ridiculous and has an awful weirdly accented voice, is never believable as a woman but his shenanigans somehow breeze by. Queen Latifah fares better with some of the most sincere soulful singing here on some of the best songs though like the movie itself most of the set-piece musical numbers go on too long.



In a movie where just about every older face is familiar (Michelle Phieffer as the villainous TV producer, and in incidental roles - Paul Dooley, Jerry Stiller and Allison Janey) it’s really the youngsters show – especially Blonsky and Kelley. If you love musical romps you’ll love it. Me, I have a mild aversion to romps but I have to admit that HAIRSPRAY is more than adequately amusing. 



CIVIC DUTY (Dir. Jeff Renfroe, 2006)







Peter Krause, best known for playing Nate on Six Feet Under (HBO 2000-2005), is a downsized accountant who thinks a new neighbor (Khaled Abol Naga), whom he refers to as “that Muslim guy”, is a terrorist plotting destruction from his tiny apartment. Effectively crisp and creepy first half but the second half desolves into a worn out scenario – i.e. a hostage situation. Krause is a lot like his former character Nate – only more of an asshole; likewise Richard Schiff as a unsympathetic FBI agent is playing only a slight variation on his cynical Toby Ziegler part from The West Wing. What could have been a sharp cinematic study of post 9/11 paranoia is just another regular guy goes crazy and alienates all of society plot. I’m sure somebody has said this before but I liked this movie better the first time – when it was called ARLINGTON ROAD. 



More later...

Burning Down The GRINDHOUSE

GRINDHOUSE (Dir. Robert Rodriquez/Quentin Tarantino 2007) 

2 movies in one - that is 2 full-length feature films by 2 notorious directors for the price of one. Sounds too good to be true? That’s because it’s fake – don't get me wrong it really is 2 complete movies but it’s a fake exploitation experience with fake trailers, bucket after bucket of fake blood splatters on everything, fake hair, fake dismembered human organs, fake projector noise, fake scratches on the film, fake missing reel announcements, fake fake fake.



The only thing that’s not fake is the fun – and there’s lots of it here. 



Both films take place in the modern day but as if the schlock methods of ‘70s era sleaze cinema never went away. In the minds of Tarantino and Rodriquez they never did. 





After a fake funny as Hell trailer for a Mexican vigilante flick called “Machete,” we are presented with Rodriquez’s eco-zombie action-horror spectacle entitled "Planet Terror". We’ve got Freddy Rodriquez (best known as Federico Diaz on Six Feet Under) as a cocky outlaw gunslinger who outfits his go-go dancer girlfriend Rose McGowan having lost a leg in the first wave of the attack (“a missing leg that’s now missing”) with a machine gun and they join forces with other non-contaminated humans against the hordes of slime covered with giant zit popping zombies. 



Along the way Bruce Willis and Tarantino himself put in cameos, Josh Brolin appears as a murderous doctor targeting his cheating lesbian wife Marley Shelton, and grisly yet sentimental BBQ chef Jeff Fahey protects an old secret family recipe right to the grave. The action and humor never lag and the breathlessly and purposely crude construction make this one of Rodriquez’s most enjoyable movies. 



Then come more fake trailers.

The trailers for "Werewolf Women of the SS" (made by Rob Zombie), “Don’t” (by SHAUN OF THE DEAD director Edgar Wright), and “Thanksgiving” (By director/actor Eli Roth) are so authentic looking, so perfect in their exclamations of low-brow glee, and so funny that it occurs to me that maybe the whole movie should have been made of fake trailers. 



I guess that would have gotten tiresome after a bit. Speaking of tiresome Tarantino’s “Death Proof” has more of a polished sophistication than Rodriquez’s and unfortunately that means a drop-off in fun. Dominated by lengthy dialogue scenes that sound at times like Tarentino lecturing us on his sexual agenda, obscure pop-culture references, and hip-hopisms through the disguise of girl talk. This bit brings the whole GRINDHOUSE down but once it gets rolling it redeems itself roaringly.

As we wind through the non-stop chatting of 2 separate groups of women (including Sydney Tamiia Poitier, Vanessa Ferlito, Rosario Dawson, Zoe Bell, Tracie Thoms, and McGowan again this time as a non-ass kicking blond) we get a leisurely introduction to Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell) who turns out to be a predatory psychopath – though one not without charms. The 3rd act is car -chase road-rage revenge city with Zoe Bell (Uma Thurman’s stunt double in the KILL BILL movies) spending a good deal of the action on the hood of a 1970 Dodge Charger hanging on for dear life by a belt latched to the door frame while Stuntman Mike's death proof muscle car rams and bams up repeatedely up against the side.

Bell, playing herself and amazingly doing all her own stunts with no CGI help, wants to take the car out for a test drive because it’s the same model as the car in the 70’s cult classic VANISHING POINT - a movie that’s referenced to a number of times and that calls out the difference between Rodriquez and Tarantino; not one movie or song title obscure or otherwise is mentioned in “Planet Terror.” “Death Proof” features numerous pop-culture pontifications and it suffers for it. Tarantino appears to be in love with his own dialogue while I and the audience around me were getting antsy. Probably the most apt old-school Hollywood phrase would be “cut to the chase”. Once he does it’s a thrill ride and the audience woke up and even cheered at the end. Even as a low-concept double feature fake-out GRINDHOUSE is awfully awesome, blazingly badass, and most importantly hilarious.






THE HOST (Dir. Joon-ho Bong, 2006) The early reports that posited this Hong Kong monster movie as a mixture of LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE and JAWS weren't completely off the mark. Sure that kind of oft-repeated critical shorthand irks me but the clumsy neurotic antics of a family whose youngest is abducted by a bizzare beast - one that was created by discarded lab chemicals in the Han River by an American military officer mind you - does recall at times the best moments and heart of those accessible reference points. River-side snack shop slacker Song Kang-ho aided by his ornery father Byeon Heui-bong and sister Bae Du-na who has a handy flair for archery struggle to save Kanh-ho's school girl daughter Ko A-sun who spends most of the movie in a sewer with other captured Koreans. The Host which is so named because the tenacled CGI sea creature is the carrier of a deadly virus, drags quite a bit in it's second half and the action is too often restricted to the dank disgusting gutters or the sterile flourescent lit labs but there is an undeniable heartbeat here. With hope more quirky horror or creature feature genre exercises will follow suit. 




And once again by popular demand - some more new release DVD reviews: 

MARIE ANTONIETTE (Dir. Sofia Coppola, 2006) Sofia Coppola's 3rd movie as director reworks the same theme - a young woman coming of age in a unfamiliar almost alien world - this time around the legendary 18th century French queen of the title gets to do the fish out of water honors and to a hip contemporary soundtrack no less (New Order, Sioxsie & The Banshees, The Cure, etc). Kirsten Dunst is adequate (or as Lindsay Lohan would say "adequite") in the role - she wears the extravagant wardrobe well and has the appropriate glibness down but is more than a little out of her depth. Jason Swartzman as Louis XVI is also questionably cast - he's Coppola's cousin and that seems to be the sole reason he's here. Better with tone and prescence in supporting rolesare Rip Torn, Judy Davis, Steve Coogan, Molly Shannon and Marriane Faithful.

Turning the oft told historical tale into one big glossy rock video is not a deplorable idea - it actually works at times like when a costume banquet-ball is shot like a decadent all night rave - but a sense of narrative drive is severely lacking. Coppola's technical skill is impressive with a definitive visual flair and confident color scheme - it's just not as interesting as I'm sure future projects of hers will be.

COLOR ME KUBRICK (Dir. Brian W. Cook, 2006)






Alan Conway (aptly named) was an odd British man who for a period in the early 90's impersonated legendary film director Stanley Kubrick (2001,DR. STRANGELOVE, THE SHINING, and so on). The fact is that he did it for such piddily low degree theviery reasons and was rarely able to get more than the money to but a few drinks is the crux of this particular cinematic biscuit.



Portrayed flamboyantly by John Malkovich in COLOUR ME KUBRICK which has the tagline of "A TRUE...ISH STORY" Conway is finally gets his coveted spot-light but one that never shows a good side of him. Every time we start to feel for the increasingly irritating imposter he does or acts in an even worse unforgivable and/or embarrassing manner that swindles our sympathy immediately from us. It's especially sad when he hoodwinks comedian/singer Lee Pratt (Jim Davidson - who was actually conned by the real Conway as the accompanying making of featurette tells us).

A few Kubrickian touches are thrown in by director Brian W. Cook (who was Kubrick's assistant director on 3 movies) - an opening scene involving punks coming close to roughing up an elderly high class couple while hunting down Conway for an unpaid bar tab recalls A CLORKWORK ORANGE and Richard Strauss's "Also Sprach Zarathustra" (better known as "2001 theme") amusingly accompanies Conway as he carries a garbage bag filled with his dirty clothes to a local dive laundromat. 

Malkovich is for the most part hilarious as the vodka-swilling tackily dressed shyster who uses a different contrived accent for each of his victums. COLOUR ME KUBRICK is by no means a great must-see film but a good one. Well maybe good...ish.

More later...

Basic Instinct 2 Blues

"Its always easier to be nice to people when you don't have to see them." - Claire Fisher (Lauren Ambrose) Six Feet Under

A few weeks ago after seeing the poster for BASIC INSTINCT 2 in the lobby of the theater I work at part-time I tried to talk the owner out of showing it. He grumbled and mumbled something about never seeing the first one.

I went into a comical tirade against the first movie and the absolute idiotic existence of a sequel - cutting and pasting from the late great comedian Bill Hicks's rant over a decade ago:

"But you know I saw this movie this year called last year called er, 'Basic Instinct'. Okay now. Bill's quick capsule review: Piece-of-Shit. Okay now.

Yeah, yeah, end of story by the way. Don't get caught up in that fevered hype phony fucking debate about that Piece-of-Shit movie.

"Is it too sexist, and what about the movies, are they becoming too..." You're, you're just confused, you don't get, you've forgotten how to judge correctly. Take a deep breath huuh, look at it again. "Oh it's a Piece-of-Shit!"

Exactly, that's all it is. Satan squatted, let out a loaf, they put a fucking title on it, put it on a marquee, Satan's shit, piece of shit, walk away. "But is it too, what about the lesbian connotations..." You're, you're getting really baffled here. Piece-of-Shit! Now walk away.

That's all it is, it's nothing more! Horrible film. And then I come to find out after that film. that all the lesbian sex scenes, let me repeat that, all the lesbian sex scenes were cut out of that film, because the test audience was turned off by them. Ha. Boy, is my thumb not on the pulse of America.

I don't want to seem like Randy Pan, the Goat Boy, but er that was the only reason I went to that piece of shit.

If I had been in that test audience, the only one out front protesting that film would have been Michael Douglas demanding his part be put back in, alright? "I swear I was in that movie. I swear I was." "Gee Mike, the movie started. Sharon Stone was eating another woman for an hour and a half. Then the credits rolled. I err, I don't remember seeing your scrawny ass, Mike." "Was Bill Hicks in that test audience?" - Bill Hicks (1961-1994)

Well, our theater owner ignored my pleas and a few days ago I had to put the dreaded letters up on the marquee. I joked with my co-workers about putting up "SHARON STONE'S MID-LIFE CRISIS."

Friday, the film opened and barely anyone came. I walked into work on saturday and the owner said "you were right. Dead on arrival." 

Thats one of the nicer things said about the movie - "Botoxic" says New York Post writer Kyle Smith. He goes on to say "BASIC INSTINCT 2" is not an erotic thriller. It's taxidermy."

The word desperate comes up in a number of reviews funnily enough. I didn't gloat about being right - its a no-brainer I think to anyone reading this knew that the movie would suck and flop. Some day it'll be nothing than an entry on one of those "Celebrity Oops" list shows on like VH1 or that damn E channel.

More later...

A Medium Blizzard In A Moral Universe

I haven’t seen any new movies lately. I’ve re-watched a few flicks between writing and other life crap including, one of my favorites, Alexander Payne’s ABOUT SCHMIDT ‘cause a friend had never seen it.



I was reminded how Scott Tobias really nailed SCHMIDT in his Onion A.V. Club review: “In one of the many simultaneously funny and heartbreaking scenes in Alexander Payne’s wonderful ‘About Schmidt,’ recently retired Omaha insurance salesman Jack Nicholson steals away to a local Dairy Queen and orders a medium Blizzard. That he has to sneak off from his wife (June Squibb) to do it is telling enough; that he treats himself to a medium instead of a large speaks volumes about his character's diminished sense of self-worth.”



“Medium Blizzard” seems to really sum it up. So much so that Tobias brought it up again in his reviews of Payne's Schmidt follow-up SIDEWAYS: “Payne (Election) defines his universe through these sorts of wry behavioral observations; in his last film, ‘About Schmidt,’ Jack Nicholson's order at an Omaha Dairy Queen says more about him than reams of dialogue would have accomplished.” Yep, that medium Blizzard really made an impact on Tobias.



As well it should - the most effective devices in character presentation are the tiny seemingly meaningless day-to-day decisions and off the cuff behavior that speaks volumes as Tobias says. “The Devil is in the details” as the expression goes.



I’m still making my way through the 4th season of Six Feet Under, which is a good example of the little-things-say-so-much deal I was just babblin’ about. One particular intense episode, “That's My Dog” (involving Fisher Funeral-home family member David being abducted by a crackhead con man), which originally aired last summer struck me as both outrageously manipulative and wickedly brilliant.



I know it can be seen as an extremely geeky process, but I watched it a second time with the commentary track by director Alan Poul. Poul addressed viewers’ negative reactions, told me things that were intended as fantasy but I wrongly interpreted as reality, and pointed out an excellent article written by Emily Nussbaum in New York Magazine that anyone with even a passing interest in the show should check out: “Captive Audience” (New York Metro 8/04)



At one point during his insightful and economically worded commentary, Poul also touchingly said: “You put stuff out there in order to get a reaction from the world with the best of intentions and what you get back is often not what you expect or deserve or even consider to be an answer.



There is such a thing as a cry that goes unheard but all that added up does not mean we're not living in a moral universe.”



That immediately brought to mind this Woody Allen quote: “An artist creates his own moral universe” (from Allen’s 1994 comedy BULLETS OVER BROADWAY).



Definitely heady stuff, though on the other hand - in its obnoxious glib quick wham-bam style an episode of Family Guy that aired earlier tonight made a jab at Six Feet Under. In one of their patented cut-away gags an intestinal worm says: “You know, I’m 3 weeks old, my world view spans no further than the walls of this dog's intestines and I still find Six Feet Under pretentious.”



Take that Alan Ball! From an astute New York Magazine appraisal to some TV criticism voiced by a cartoon worm I think I can see the takeaway balance. Anyway, I need to go and get a medium Blizzard. Actually, maybe just a small one. Depends on if I can steal away I guess.



More later...

BROKEN FLOWERS And More Random Babble

 

 

The most recent movie I’ve seen in the theaters was BROKEN FLOWERS, the new Bill Murray flick directed by Jim Jarmusch. It seems to be another entry in the minimalist phase of Murray's career. In earlier work like MEATBALLS, STRIPES, or GHOSTBUSTERS, Murray’s wise cracking persona worked every angle. Now he appears to be so jaded and too tired to even approach any angle.



Murray even has to be cajoled into this slight premise - revisiting past loves because of an unsigned letter saying he may have a 20 year old son- by an over-eager neighbor (Jeffery Wright). As much as I was amused by certain moments (Jessica Lange’s bit as an animal communicator particularly) I thought the movie was just okay. Not especially involving as Murray's character and a lot of the movie seemed underwritten.



Scenes made out of shots, like the one above, of Murray sitting inactive in his house seem artsy for artsiness sake, and the whole project feels like its piggy-backing on Sophia Coppola’s LOST IN TRANSLATION, which featured a much more nuanced performance by the same former SNL cast member.

Anyway, apart from plowing through the 4th season of Six Feet Under this last week, I also watched Igmar Bergman’s SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE (1973). Because of a recent episode of Ebert and Roeper that told me about Bergman’s last film, SARABAND, updates the story of SCENES’ central characters played by Liv Ullmann and Erland Josephson, I decided that I had to put it in my Netflix queue. 

SCENES was originally broadcast as a 6-part TV series in Sweden in the early ‘70s, but Bergman also edited the episodes together into a theatrical version that was released worldwide. The theatrical version, clocking in at 2 hours and 40-something minutes long, is what I chose to watch. I was struck about how close Woody Allen’s HUSBANDS AND WIVES (1995) was to it. I mean I knew Allen was a Bergman disciple but damn! SCENES’s documentary like set-up, the long involved and tortured conversational break-downs, and the probing close-ups are all used to great effect in HUSBANDS.

Film historian and supposed Bergman scholar Peter Cowie told me in the Criterion Collection edition’s sole special feature that it was best to watch in segments. But I watched it all in one sitting because I wanted to take it all in, then promptly return it so I could get more Six Feet Under discs.

However, I found that there was no way to rush a viewing of this pristine movie and found myself going back to re-watch various segments. I got wrapped up in the emotional turmoil surrounding the relationship of Josephson and Ullman’s Johann and Marriane so much that I decided that Six Feet Under could wait.

Now I feel like I should put the longer TV version in my queue. Damn my completist minded film addiction! Or actually, thank the Heavens for it. Not sure what I'd do with these random hours otherwise. Now with hope, Bergman’s 2003 follow-up SARABAND will come to my area.

More later...