Movie Review

(On DVD, September 2008) Alternately dull and fascinating, this classic has endured a lot better than you’d expect. The lengths of the film are deliberate traits of Kubrick’s style, for one thing, and not remnants of an outdated editing style. A plot summary seems superfluous given the film’s place in contemporary pop culture and the myriad of references made to it. (Even people who think they recognize the references may be surprised: I was shocked to realize that Rob Zombie’s “Never Gonna Stop” makes a bunch of references to the film, up to and most visibly the “Durango 95”) Yet there’s a lot more to this film than Alex, his droogs and the famous brainwashing sequence: the entire third act is something that tends to be given short thrift in references to the film, and so becomes perhaps the most interesting thing about it. I still don’t believe that it entirely clicks together: the opening act suggests a far more barbaric social breakdown than what is suggested by the rest of the film, a hint that this is best considered as a fable than a serious SF film. Our modern jaded sensibilities may not be appropriate to judge the controversy that the film raised upon release: While “the old ultra-violence” seems ordinary and the torture sequence merely icky, it’s the frequent nudity and the stark symbolism that seems most controversial today. See it at least once to firm up your cultural referents.

(In theaters, September 2008) Chuck Palahniuk’s novels are so extreme that any adaptation that doesn’t completely screws them up has already earned a small victory, and so Choke‘s most notable achievement is how it does remain relatively faithful to the novel, translating a good chunk of its sociopathic charm onto the big screen, graphic sexual addictions and all. Sam Rockwell is rather good as a lead character whose obsession for casual sex only matches his habit of fake-choking in high-end restaurants in order to earn strangers’ gratitude and financial help. A suitably strange cast of characters surround him, from a paranoid mother to a curiously amorous doctor to a friend who can’t keep his hands off himself. Fortunately, it remains an amusing film throughout, even when the story appears to take a turn toward the fantastic with the suggestion that the protagonist is a clone of Jesus. Fans of the original novel (one of Palahniuk’s tamest) will be surprised to find out that most of the book has been faithfully adapted to the screen, at the exception of the ending which proves to be less satisfying than the one in the book. While this film won’t make as big an impression as Fight Club did, it’s an adaptation with which Palahniuk and fans can be relatively happy… and that’s already quite remarkable.

(In theaters, August 2008) Can the clown honestly laugh at himself? That’s the big philosophical question to ask after seeing the big mess that is Tropic Thunder. A comedy about big-budget film-making co-written by two actors, Tropic Thunder feels like a broad attempt to hit an equally broad target. Some of the shots find their mark; others miss by such a distance that they defy the notion of a joke. Foul-mouthed and gory (with death played for laughs), Tropic Thunder has the bluster of a cynic but little of the wit: Once past the opening fake trailers and the initial premise, the film seems to lose itself in a vague haze. Occasionally, the jokes flicker back: You may recognize Tom Cruise’s voice, but his hirsute, balding, overweight expletive-spewing studio executive is so far away from his usual personae as to be unrecognizable. Still, Ben Stiller’s previous Zoolander has stood the test of time better than many comedies of its time: it’s entirely possible the Tropic Thunder will feel more interesting with time. But the scatter-shot nature of the jokes, the easy gags and the dumb characters don’t feel as if they’re the ultimate expression of what could have been done with the budget, that talent and that premise. Maybe the clown got complacent, falsely secure in the idea that the crowds would appreciate any attempt at self-deprecation while missing the point that even self-deprecation requires a modicum of effort and grace.

(Second viewing, on DVD, March 2010) A quick viewing of the DVD edition shows that either quite a bit has changed in-between the theater and “unrated” edition, or my memory hasn’t recorded many of the gags.  Either way, the film does seem slightly better the second time around, although that that much better.

(In theaters, August 2008) It’s one thing to laugh at Star Wars as being for kids, but it’s another to see the franchise deliberately lower the bar to a point where there’s no possibility for derision: Clone Wars is not just for kids, it’s a pilot for a kid’s TV series. The cut-rate computer animation is sub-par (the dubbing is notoriously off), the plot is meaningless and there’s a teen heroine alongside Obi-Wan and Anakin to make it all even more attractive to the younger set. Not that the problems stop there: Voice impersonators have been hired to fill the roles of most of the live-action actors, the action once again returns to the familiar stomping ground of Tattoine, there’s little freshness to the sights, the anime-style designs are ugly, the beat-by-beat plotting is weak (Let’s hide in a box!) and the dialogue is dull enough to compete with lower-tier sitcoms. Not to mention that in the grand scheme of things, this entry in the Star Wars mythos is basically meaningless: it takes place between movies, doesn’t introduce any new revelation beyond what’s needed to set up the TV series: fans of the movies should adjust expectations accordingly to a quick cash-in product. On the relatively scarce upside, Ahsoka Tano becomes less annoying as time goes by (though making her a teen rebel makes little sense given what we’ve been shown of Jedi indoctrination practices: It would have been better to make her a by-the-book apprentice fit to be corrupted by Anakin’s go-for-broke style.) Some of the shots are set up in interesting ways, though the rest of the film is usually far more ordinary. Finally, Angelina-Jolie-styled antagonist Asajj Ventress gets more dialogue and time than the much-over-hyped Darth Maul, showing that Clone Wars is better than Episode One in at least one respect. But there isn’t much to report otherwise: This is a kid’s TV show pilot branded with the Star Wars logo, and nothing more. In a way, this film was oversold in theaters: it will feel a lot less pretentious once it’s part of the series’ DVD box-set.

(On DVD, August 2008) This film has escaped conventional film criticism to become a pop-culture symbol, so the shock for an uninformed viewer seeing this for the first time is how lengthy the film feels: As a rags-to-riches story of a Miami drug dealer, there’s plenty of time for duller scenes and lengthier moment in-between the scenes and quotes that everyone remembers so well. Fortunately, one of Al Pacino’s best performances ties the entire film together, along with a savvy script by Oliver Stone and what must still be one of Brian de Palma’s most accomplished films. It’s a big and grandiose story, driven by cinematographic excesses that match the featured protagonist. But it’s also emptier and lazier than its fans are willing to acknowledge: with a running time that almost reaches three hours, you can bet that there’s a lot to material to forget even as the rest is so memorable. The anniversary DVD edition makes a competent job at portraying the production of the film and describing what’s so memorable about it. (Unfortunately, it almost starts believing its own hype, especially when it starts talking about its own video game.). Sadly, there are no audio commentaries.

(In theaters, August 2008) Stoner comedies are not created equal, and if the idea of putting a weed-enjoying dude in a standard thriller plot worked well in The Big Lebowski, the makers of Pineapple Express seem to have indulged in soft drugs so often enough that they couldn’t be bothered to understand the genius of the Coen Brother’s film. Instead, we get repellent stoners stuck in a tale of violent drug dealing, filled with harsh language and gory violence that only serves to highlight the immaturity of the picture. The characters feel like kids playing around with dangerous toys, leading less to empathy than to feelings of pity toward the mentally retarded. The obvious counterargument is that you have to be under the influence to like this film, but think about it real hard: does it make sense to voluntarily diminish one’s mental capabilities in order to enjoy a film? More to the point, doesn’t it nullify whatever advantage this film may have over just about any of Hollywood’s dumbest films of late?

(On DVD, August 2008) There wouldn’t be any interest for this film nowadays if it wasn’t for the headlining presence of Angelina Jolie in one of her first striking roles as the titular fashion model. The plot is your basic story of addiction, fame, tangled relationships and tragic death. There’s a pseudo-documentary frame that more or less work, but it’s the fictional segments featuring Jolie that really pull the film together. The cinematography is a bit above what you may expect from a straight-to-TV feature, but it doesn’t take much to show the limits of the film’s budget. The look at the New York fashion industry during the late seventies is intriguing, but leaves viewers wanting more. As a biopic, it feels familiar: see it for Jolie’s performance.

(In-flight, August 2008) I had good hopes for this film: I’m fond of screwball comedies, and well-disposed toward George Clooney’s work. But while Leatherheads isn’t objectively bad, it does lack a crucial spark of interest and that emptiness seems only more damning in a genre that seems to difficult to screw up. The late-twenties era is credibly recreated, but it’s more difficult to pin down the genre of this film as it reaches for football, comedy, romance and war stories journalism. Both Clooney and Renée Zellweger are fine as the leads, but “fine” is as far as it goes: the script seems unable to bring up the energy level of the picture to what we could expect: only a mid-film sequence featuring them escaping from an illicit bar seems to tap into the possibilities of the concept. Otherwise, it’s a mildly amusing film without highlights, but so well-intentioned that it’s difficult to be mad at it. Old-fashioned to a fault, it manages to be disappointing without being frustrating.

(In-flight, August 2008) The easy pun here is that Flawless isn’t, but it’s actually more difficult than one would expect to find explicit flaws with this heist film. The most one can say is that the film is duller than it ought to be, what with a look at swinging sixties London in which a diamond company executive (Demi Moore, back after a lengthy absence) conspires with a knowledgeable janitor (Michael Caine, as good as ever) to rob a few diamonds off the vaults of their mutual employer. Alas, the action is all low-key, and the period details never seem to cohere. Moore herself is bland in a role that could have been handled by anyone else, while the film itself never has any fun at all. While the plot developments are enough to hold anyone’s attention, there isn’t much to process once the credits roll. At best, it’s a competent heist thriller that pays attention to its characters and satisfies the indulgent viewer. But it’s hard to avoid feeling that it could have been much better.