joeydean61869 Reviews

The Upside of Anger (2005)

Note to myself: Judge not a movie by it's trailer again!

[7/10 · 2 November 2008]

*** out of **** stars

I must admit, that when I first saw the trailer for The Upside of Anger, it came across to me as perhaps boring, perhaps shallow, perhaps cliché. It's nothing of the sort. What we have here is a melding of flavors; something of a Woody Allen/Coen brothers hybrid coasting along the seasons of Michigan. Humor is not without despondency. Dialouge is not without wit. The silent contemplation of the characters is not without the disturbing yet comforting contemplation by us as viewers. It's always a surprising pleasure, no matter how much I experience it, to witness silent acting that reads between the lines, and tells a story without superfluous jargon. You gotta know when to talk, but you gotta know when to shut up too.

Terry Wolfmeyer (Joan Allen) is a mother of four high school and college age daughters, and her husband has surprisingly run off with his secretary to a land far, far away. As we learn more about Terry, we can see why. She's continuously boozy yet functioning, sadly and hysterically cynical, systematically bitter, unknowingly shallow and insultingly forward. Her daughters are all headstrong and smart, trying to find their way in the world. Terry has her own idea of how they should live their lives and plan their futures, not recognizing their inherent talents and strengths, or not choosing to. Denny (Kevin Costner), a friend of the disappeared hubby, shows up on Terry's lawn with a beer in his hand, wanting a drinking buddy. We instantaneously sense a relationship will ensue, but it doesn't happen without the difficulty and maturity that can only take place between two adults in their 40's or 50's who have been through the ringer a time or two. All the daughters approve of him, which is probably why Terry is so slow to come around to his quirky advances. Denny is an ex-Detroit Tiger hero who hates talking about his once beloved sport as a radio DJ. Will Costner ever shake that America's favorite pastime vibe? He doesn't need to here. It works out just fine. Yet what has made him so reluctant and irritated about chatting up RBIs and home-runs is an underdeveloped part of the narrative. The film really belongs to Allen.

What gives Upside so much light and life are the daughters, played by Erika Christensen, Evan Rachel Wood, Keri Russell and Alicia Witt. All of them obviously and equally understood what screenwriter and director Mike Binder intended for them to bring to the screen, which puts much light on him for either not allowing himself to compromise his vision, or for selecting the correct choices of talent, or both. Binder also co-stars as an unashamed, disgusting Lothario, and a producer at Denny's radio station.

I believe The Upside of Anger will appeal to all ages (kids aside of course) and all breeds of movie watchers. Ladies may enjoy it as a "chick flick". Indie enthusiasts may like it's originality and dark charm. Middle aged men may identify with Denny's apathy for a sport he once loved and the attraction he has for Terry's melodramatic family. In short, I think this movie can interest and entertain everyone. And what a complement that is! If I do say so myself.

Buffalo '66 (1998)

Gallo ditches conventionalism in Buffalo...let's be thankful!

[7/10 · 2 November 2008]

*** out of **** stars

The only sequence of Buffalo '66 that warmed my heart with thankful relief from almost two hours of wondering why the main character - Billy Brown (Vincent Gallo)- would make such unorthodox decisions against the obvious, right decisions, was during the last five minutes (approx.) of the film. What a pay off! What a tension breaking five minutes it was! I felt I could breathe easy after happily discovering that Billy is a man that can make loving, almost predictable and sane decisions after all, and all because of Layla (Christina Ricci), the new angel in his life, who he haphazardly "kidnapped" in a dance studio; who he finally realizes is his savior. We never find out much about Layla, if anything at all. Where does she come from and why is she the way she is? Why does she see a loving light in despicable Billy? Why doesn't she leave him, after so much verbal abuse and selfishness? I believe the reason she doesn't is because director, writer, composer and actor Gallo understands that in most scripts out of cliché Hollywood, she WOULD leave Billy. And then what kind of movie would we have? One that we've seen time and time again. The decisions that the characters make in Buffalo '66's entire time frame are the antithesis of conventionalism.

What makes Billy Brown tick is strenuously simple, but only after a fair amount of contemplation after spending time with him: his parents, played by Ben Gazzara and Anjelica Huston, have systematically not given their son an ounce of validation of pride or yes, love, for his entire life, spent in frigid Buffalo, New York. Billy has spent his whole life excessively fabricating his importance in hope to gain that validation, but never with any success. Whether biological parents can demonstrate such intense apathy and coldness toward their own flesh and blood, as seen in this movie, is up for debate. But if they were able to be so callously and blindly bold, the bitter and sad result of such a man as Billy seems plausible. Gallo's skillful acting ability in his role floors me, because we actually somehow care for Billy. And why should we? Because through his sin we envision humanness that, I believe, we can all relate to: the errors we make; the lack of self-worth we may feel; loneliness; rejection; and the pain that is inflicted upon us from those who are supposed to unconditionally love us the most. Ricci's astounding performance, which I believe carries the most improvisation of any character in the film, brilliantly sheds the most light on the movie's message, which is: when someone cares about you more than themselves, it can truly change you for the better, no matter how much emotional baggage you may have. If we all had a Layla in our lives, psychiatrists would go into extinction.

Reservoir Dogs (1992)

A bloody mess of a great early quintessential Quentin film

[8/10 · 4 June 2008]

***1/2 out of **** stars

Okay...I've been a big fan of Tarantino's work since he exploded onto the scene in the early nineties. I've watched Dogs several times and watched it again tonight on IFC with the instantaneous intention to finally review it. Not for the squeamish, this one: large pools of blood; screams of pain; a severed ear; people (cops mostly) being blasted with deafening gun shots...so how can Dogs be so darn funny with so much carnage and suffering? Well, it's what makes Tarantino so darn special; the melding of gut-busting dialogue and gore, along with the prototypical wardrobes of black and white gangsta suits. Let us not forget Quentin's love for 70s nostalgia as well, which in one case is evident in his characters parleying about bygone blacksploitation movies and television shows. And what a fantastic ingredient to use Steven Wright's dead-pan voice to introduce all those archaic B-siders on K Billy's Super Sounds of the 70s.

A lot of Reservoir Dogs could be a stage production. I can easily imagine sitting front row in a playhouse watching all the actors hit their marks with precision, and hearing their voices reverberate throughout the building. Obviously, I speak of the warehouse scenes. For me, this is quite an accolade because how often can actors work so wonderfully and successfully in two different mediums with the same story? I realize that Dogs has never been made into a play, but it could be...don't you think?

Only a half-wit would bitch about Tarantino's formulaic storytelling. Does every movie have to begin, then go on to the very next thing, and the very next thing, and the next, and the next? Tick tock tick tock? Zzzzzzzz. What brilliance to amalgamate past, present and future with such rotating uniqueness. Keep teaching your audience to tune-up Quentin. Nothing wrong with starting your story somewhere in the middle and going anywhere you want from there. Way to go man, is what I say.

It seems as if Tarantino's career will be a bit like Kubrick's: quality instead of quantity. The bummer is having to wait for his next project, which can never come soon enough for me. What I love most about Q is his obvious great love for film-making. He seemingly has a child-like enthusiasm for the creative process, and his love for simply viewing movies, let along making them, is very evident.

Keep making movies as if you're watching them for $9.50 like most of us Quentin. If you do, you'll always have an audience that is just as excited about your stories as you are!

Men of Honor (2000)

A convincing, sometimes over dramatized story of a determined man

[6/10 · 2 January 2008]

**1/2 out of **** stars

Based on a true story...let's emphasize 'based'.

As a boy in Kentucky, Carl Brashear (Cuba Gooding Jr.) is told by his sharecropping father to never grow up to be a man like him: plowing fields with bloody hands. When Carl grows up and enlists in the U.S. Navy, his father tells him things will be hard, to change the rules if he has to...and to never return. Seeds of extraordinary, nearly outlandish determination are planted, and Brashear begins his journey to become the man his father wants him to be. While serving as a discontent cook at sea, Brashear is inspired to become a master diver after witnessing a rescue attempt by Master Chief Leslie W. 'Billy' Sunday (Robert De Niro). Sunday is a hard-nosed lifer who is constantly in hot water for insubordination. He becomes Brashear's instructor at diving school and instantaneously singles him out because of his race. Brashear is the first black man to ever go through the training, and the hardships his father warned him about begin.

We've seen characters like Sunday before. He uses 'colorful' language, calls his men ladies, and is an egomaniac. R. Lee Ermey comes to mind from Full Metal Jacket, but Sunday's charges aren't in basic training; they've served awhile, so why are they treated like new recruits? In any case...it doesn't take away from De Niro's performance. When he's on the screen he's a scene stealer. Gooding Jr.'s performance is top-notch also. His character continuously showcases the message of the movie: determination through racial discrimination.

The biggest problem with the film are the female characters. Boozy Gwen Sunday (Charlize Theron) is a role unneeded in the narrative, even though her performance is thoroughly professional. Jo (Aunjanue Ellis) has a little more purpose, yet the consummation of her romance with Carl seemed premature. Also, her scholastic ambitions are eclipsed by Carl's desire, which, at times, makes him seem selfish.

Though over-dramatized at times, especially in the final 20 minutes of the movie, Men of Honor is a compelling look at the Navy's painfully slow transition to become desegregated in the eyes of the troops. Cuba Gooding Jr. skillfully carries the film from beginning to end and we don't lose focus of him...but without Robert De Niro, I'm not sure if the movie would have been as effective.

Charlie Wilson's War (2007)

An enjoyable melding of tribulation and sitcom

[7/10 · 31 December 2007]

*** out of **** stars

Texas Congressman Charlie Wilson (Tom Hanks) is a man of debauchery, but his fast-paced intelligence and charm, along with a few disclaimers, make him extremely likable. He's a womanizer, but not married. He's a 'round-the-clock drinker, but highly functional. He's eyeball deep within several terms (I forget how many) of government bureaucracy, but not corrupt. Deep in his heart, Wilson believes in the American dream, and the nation's ability to make a difference. With the instrumental assistance of Texas millionaire and socialite Joanne Herring (Julia Roberts), and individualistic CIA agent Gust Avrakotos (Philip Seymour Hoffman), Wilson lobbies to increase federal spending for defenseless Afghani refugees (women and children included) who are under attack by Soviet airships on the Pakistan border. His motivation is magnanimous, and no one had any qualms about sticking-it to the Ruskies in the 1980s.

Charlie Wilson's War is not a Mike Nichols' masterpiece, but it deserves a special accolade for being admissible and convincing by amalgamating austere subject matter with superior situation-comedy. The acting is top-notch, and the dialogue moves like a freight train running off the tracks. With every conversation (if we listen up, that is) there are gold nuggets to be found, giving us insight into the legislative and covert decision making process. Hoffman is especially enjoyable to experience. Hanks, albeit excellent, always manages to show a little bit of himself in his character by design, whereas Hoffman's chameleon-like talents are astounding. He disappears into Avrakotos. When we laugh out-loud watching this movie, Hoffman is usually on the screen. Julia's part of Joanne, stone-faced yet agreeably imperious, seemingly didn't get as much screen time as I anticipated, not that I was discouraged. She is a regal, unflinching and libidinous woman that we've seen many times before, and Nichols was smart to use her only with purpose. Not to be dismissed are the busty yet intelligent women that make up Wilson's office staff, lead by bright-eyed Amy Adams (Catch Me If You Can, Enchanted). They are willing to jump off a high bridge for Wilson, and ostensibly circumvent Joanne Herring's preeminence by being great fun to watch. The director should be commended for creating scenes in the background that look just as intriguing as a given scene in the foreground, especially through the corridors of Washington. The camera, let's say, may be focused on Hanks and Adams, yet if Nichols decided to closely shoot those around them, we get the impression that the conversation would be just as important. Films often fail at this, making stand-ins seem superficial.

It seems every new film about a bygone middle-eastern crisis casts a contemplative shadow on post 9/11 American society. Charlie Wilson's War is no different. We can't help but think that the Afghani freedom fighters would later become the Taliban, and that their country is a disaster again. In the 1980s, the United States, with help from Israel, spent a billion dollars on the resistance against the Soviets. It was evidently successful, but this movie's message is that we didn't finish up, we didn't follow through, we didn't rebuild. Very obvious, with the state of affairs today. It was impressive to learn of this story through such an interesting and precarious medium: comedy and tragedy combined. A risk that worked indeed! Of course, a cast of talented A-list actors doesn't hurt much either.

Cars (2006)

I'd give my left two lug nuts for more animated movies like Cars

[7/10 · 10 December 2007]

*** out of **** stars

Egomaniac Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) is a rookie race car with, sadly, no friends. He doesn't want a crew chief, and he talks to his re-fuelers and his tire changers as if they are very replaceable dishwashers. McQueen's dream is to win the coveted Piston Cup; the highest honor of the American race circuit. After a creatively juxtaposed tie with two top-notch competitors, a three-car race-off is scheduled in one week in Los Angeles. On the way to the event, Lightning impulsively detours from the interstate and - via historic Route 66 - ends up in the bygone town of Radiator Springs, where he is impounded for hot-rodding and is consequently delegated to perform community service by repairing a road he damaged. He also meets new friends who, over time, humble him. The most influential are a sexy Porsche named Sally (Bonnie Hunt), a rusty, redneck tow-truck named Mater (Larry The Cable Guy) and a mentor Hudson named Doc (Paul Newman).

Last year, I wrote a review for Over the Hedge. It wasn't favorable. In fact, it was downright sarcastic, mostly (in my opinion of course) because of its failure to deliver nuggets of humor that all ages could profit from, and for lacking a sense of adventure. After watching Cars, my confirmation of the downward spiral of animated films has been reversed. This is a magnetizing movie that has set a new bar in computerized craftsmanship, right down to the tiny flickers on the burnished cars. It is also charming and simple in character development and in teaching lessons in narcissism, friendship and humility. It plays as if shot with a camera. There are aerials, dissolves, fades, cutaways, pans and reverse angles. The characters are humorous and warm. Cars is not a movie that is occasionally ominous. There are no antagonists that exude doom (The Lion King, The Shrek films). The conflict is McQueen's journey to morally become a better car, which is good enough to take us along for the ride...under clear blue skies and crystal clear starry nights.

Bravo to Pixar for bringing me back to the light! I just pray there won't be a Cars II. Like Finding Nemo, Cars is just fine as a solo entity. I'd hate to see it descend into a botched trilogy as the Shrek story has. What I embraced most about the movie is it takes time to breathe, which, I suspect, won't sit as well with the kids. We see spectacular portraitures of grand desert landscapes, dreamy visions of "The Mother Road" Route 66, and best of all, we become intimate with the dusty hamlet of Radiator Springs. At times, we are slowly and comfortably urged to caress a town that once embodied a free nation that no longer exists. Cars should make us wonder, as Americans, why we left behind what once was, to have what we have today. Yes...I believe even an animated tale has the competence and backbone to do just that.

Insomnia (2002)

Insomnia is a fantastic murder mystery...but an even better character study

[8/10 · 12 September 2007]

***1/2 out of **** stars

Detective Will Dormer (Al Pacino) is already exhausted when he flies into Nightmute, an Alaskan hamlet that never loses its sun. An Internal Affairs investigation back in Los Angeles may destroy his career. He has played war with ethics for many years, and he's stressed and bitter because of it. His partner Hap Eckhart (Martin Donovan) wants to "cut a deal" with IA. The reason? He doesn't want to jeopardize his family's future. Dormer doesn't like Eckhart's decision, obviously. We get the impression their partnership has been strained for some time. To say the least, there are many things weighing heavily on Dormer...it gets worse.

Why are they in Nightmute? There was a murder of a teenage girl. Dormer and Eckhart are there to head the investigation. The local detectives regularly follow up on bar brawls and domestic disturbances, but a murder probe is a bit too ambitious for them. Nightmute's Detective Ellie Burr (Hilary Swank) sees Dormer as an idol and a legend. She's motivated, new and untainted. She likens the investigation to something she can happily learn from, like a school project, and what a splendid mentor she has in Dormer!...if she only knew.

So who's the killer? It's a novelist named Walter Finch (Robin Williams) who had befriended the teen at one of his book signings. She shamed him, and he murdered her...but there's more. Dormer shoots and kills Eckhart (accedentally?) while chasing Finch through the dense fog. Dormer instantaneously pins the shooting on Finch, but there's one problem: Finch saw him do it. So now, Dormer's caught in a Catch 22: if he captures Finch he captures himself.

What's great about this film is Pacino's ability to make us like Dormer through all his deceit. We feel sorry for him because he knows how far he has crossed the line and he hates himself for it. Finch is another story. He views his horrible crime as an accident that could happen to anybody. Pacino, the great method actor, and Williams, the erratic improviser, complement each other wonderfully because they play characters that are polar-opposite.

Director Christopher Nolan (Memento, Batman Begins) loves the use of close-ups and flashbacks. Often we see a flashback of Dormer scrubbing blood off his shirt from another immoral probe; a metaphor of his desire to become clean of dishonor. There are flashes of the murdered girl giggling at her mentor: the innocent and prudish incitement of bloodshed. There are many close-ups of Pacino wrinkled, haggard and exhausted. Nolan obviously felt it necessary to physically exploit the mania in Dormer's mind and soul. This is Shakespearean in tactic: the physical manifestation of inner torment.

Two scenes from Insomnia are particularly memorable for me. One is when Dormer is driving the victim's best girlfriend to the site where the body was found: a trash dump. Some shocking coquetry takes place, which makes us wonder how shameless the detective really is. In the end, though, he only wishes to teach her a needed lesson in humility, and we're relieved. The other scene is of Dormer driving alone on the wet, Alaskan highway. Awake for days, his overworked, debilitated mind makes him think an 18-wheeler is about to crash into him. He slams on the brakes only to find nothing is there. Nolan pulls this scene off with great, awaking intensity. The vast, overhead shots of the vehicle and the close-ups of the interior windshield are brilliant.

Swank's performance is a tad more than one-dimensional, but I believe her role was written for that purpose. She's a very talented actor who has played characters with much more depth and scope (Boys Don't Cry, Million Dollar Baby). Here, she simply embodies what Dormer perhaps once was many, many moons ago: a young, gung-ho detective wearing a halo of integrity.

I'll keep looking out for more work from Nolan. He has proved, so far, to be something of an auteur. Insomnia is his finest film to date. The casting of Pacino and Williams doesn't hurt things either, especially when the roles are so right for them.

Citizen Kane (1941)

The great directors of today still steal from Welles' masterpiece

[10/10 · 8 September 2007]

**** out of **** stars

When I finally watched Kane for the very first time a few weeks back, it fiercely occurred to me how much has been honorably stolen from this enigmatic masterpiece. Take the flashback scene of little boy Kane in the snow, for instance; the overlapping dialouge and Gregg Toland's deep-focus cinematography reminded me of an ingredient Spielberg has used time and time again (Minority Report, Schindler's List). Welles' nod to the classic "March of Time" newsreels in the beginning of the film, brought to mind the pseudo-documentary stylings of Oliver Stone's JFK and Nixon. Scorcese is there too; the jagged scene shifting and pacing. Moments of stillness and silence prompted me to think of Coppolla's Godfather films. Citizen Kane remains the number one film of all time because of these homages. Newer films that are also bathed in genius will never dethrone this predecessor, because all the wonderful artistry they contain has already been consummated in Kane.

Welles, being only 25 at the time of this film's creation, is flooring. The little boy to salty-old-man passage of Charles Foster Kane's lifetime, along with his strange and extensive friendships and romances, are experiences that should seemingly be understood by a man much older than Orson was in 1941. Simply put, an artist ahead of his time made a movie ahead of it's time, and the aftershocks of Kane's greatness are still felt today.

I believe those of us that expected Rosebud to become something specific or tangible or touchable, missed the heartbeat of Citizen Kane. Rosebud is Kane's soul, his lost innocence, his antiquated beauty. Rosebud is in all of us, or once was. What Welles did was tell a story about the human condition; the dream of something blindingly pure that is in all of us. He used film-making as a megaphone to scream and whisper to our exceedingly similar human sensibilities. Sometimes it's hard to comprehend the megaphone, but that's what makes Kane so great. Orson Welles understood, at his very young age, that all of us can often feel very alone, and that we need something sacred to rely on.

Blades of Glory (2007)

Mediocrity on ice

[3/10 · 3 September 2007]

** out of **** stars

(long sigh) With Blades of Glory you get exactly what you'd expect: Napoleon Dynamite and Ron Burgandy on Ice. Will Ferrell, once again, is cast as a character with an outlandish ego who is unashamed of his bravado. Remind you of anyone? And Heder? Set comfortably as the geeky shadow behind that bravado. A few laughs? Absolutely. Have we seen this plot before? Surely. Even the casting of the legendary skater Scott Hamilton doesn't come as a surprise. Peggy Fleming and Dorothy Hamill have (thankfully) non-speaking cameos. Let's keep adding those cliché ingredients to make another mediocre comedy: the pretty love interest, the kooky adversaries, the domineering coach, etc, etc. Here are the comedies that come to mind with this same old formula: Dodgeball. Anchorman. Kicking and Screaming. You get the picture. Ferrell, remember Stranger than Fiction? You were going in the right direction with that.

If you want another Big Mac or Burrito Supreme, watch Blades. I myself have tasted these before. I'd rather not choke on something familiar. I'll move on to something else and swallow it down nicely.

The Number 23 (2007)

About 23 things wrong with this film

[4/10 · 20 August 2007]

** out of **** stars

Let's see...14 divided by 20 times the square root of 13 equals 23, which was my departed grandmother's favorite number and the year she was born, 23 minutes past the 23rd hour. Assign the number any way you choose and ooh be very scared. Be EXTREMELY scared when you throw in a brain-dead looking mutt to go with 23, and you have Schumacher's latest attempt at a dark suspense fest with The Number 23. Oh yeah, 23 is also my record in Cuervo shots at my favorite dive on 23rd street in the 23rd state in the union.

Carrey carries the film to about it's halfway point, then we lose sight of him, not caring much. Don't look for any crazy expressions to come from the comedian Carrey, as you have seen in The Mask and Me, Myself and Irene. No. And don't expect an embodiment of a character as he did with Andy Kaufman. This role is a sad and peculiar devolvement for Jimbo. Where's The Riddler when you need him! I know, we don't need him. Virginia Madsen, like usual, is underused as the supportive, speculative and peculiar wife. Her talent, like Carrey's, is suppressed, and it's almost painful to watch her try to rescue her underdeveloped character from near anonymity.

To give credit where credit is due, there are a couple of interesting scenes in The Number 23 that showcase some very crafty cinematography. They are arresting enough on their own without having to be convoluted within the incoherent narrative of this silly story.

I don't know about you, (and I realize this is a work of absolute fiction) but I don't know of anyone who often reads his novel in a dank, dark basement, or spends his time at graveyards on a regular basis like Carrey does in this movie. Schumacher keeps his film dark and blood-red and gloomy and rainy and smoggy and gloomy and rainy and dank and on and on and on from beginning to end. Even Flatliners and The Lost Boys had a little more daylight in them, and we're talking about medical students obsessed with death and teenage vampires!

If you feel like watching this film, even if it's out of mere curiosity...make sure you do it while enjoying about 23 catnaps, that way you can kill 23 birds with one stone.

Freedom Writers (2007)

Mrs. G should be an inspiration to adults and kids alike

[7/10 · 27 January 2007]

*** out of **** stars

Director Richard LaGravenese does not need to offer excuses for his extremely affecting film, the latest in a long line of white-bread-teacher-inspires-the-barbarians stories. Set in 1994, Freedom Writers stars Hilary Swank as real-life, idealistic teacher Erin Gruwell. With no experience as an educator, yet greatly and naively optimistic, Gruwell is urged into the cruel lives of a classroom of obstinate Freshman students, who themselves have had the misfortune of growing up in gang-ravaged Long Beach, California. The 14 and 15 year old kids live according to the criteria of inner-city traditionalism; Blacks stick with Blacks, Hispanics with Hispanics, Asians with Asians, etc. Right or wrong, each tribe protects their own or they pay the consequences. Swank's canny, come-at-able performance is circumvented and humbled by a talented batch of fresh-faced players, lead by April Lee Hernandez who is cast as Eva, a Latina gang member. LaGravenese first uses Eva as a blueprint for the psyche of every student in Mrs. G's classroom with a heartbreaking soliloquy. Every pupil, no matter their race, cannot see Woodrow Wilson High School as anything but a waste of time, until Gruwell teaches them that they each live with hardships that are nearly identical.

There's a scene where Mrs. G has forged a line through the middle of the classroom. She collectively asks a series of questions: Do you know where to get drugs? Have you ever been shot at? Do you know anyone in prison? Has anyone close to you ever been killed? More than one? Two? Three? If the answer to any question is yes, he or she must step up to the line. With every inquiry, just about every student reaches it, which enlightens them to their similarities. Gruwell familiarizes them with the Nazi holocaust: racial discrimination at its extreme. The lesson? If their hateful tribalism continues, the future will become horrifying. They are eventually so inspired by Gruwell that they succeed, through various fund raisers, at meeting Mies Gies, the woman who hid Anne Frank from the Gestapo.

Along with the challenges she faces with her students, comes adversity with the faculty, with Principal Margaret Campbell (Imelda Stanton) at the helm. Gruwell's "unorthodox teaching methods" threaten their misguided sensibilities. They view her as a coddler, not a "true" educator.

There are several tear-jerking and heart-rending moments in this film that should touch the most callous of hearts. There is so much tragedy in every student's life that an all-inclusive movie could be made about any of them.

Now, here's my thesis: I watched Freedom Writers with my wife and daughter on a Friday night. Big mistake! Teenagers clogged the forward aisles, giggling, chatting, playing with their cell phones...running in and out of the theater five and ten at a time. This happened throughout the entire film! To say the least, it was distracting and irritating. So something occurred to me: shouldn't a movie like this sober bratty youngsters into silence and submission? Why weren't they inspired? I suspected that most of them had little regard for their benefits and came from affluent families, which makes me regret to say that I had greater respect for the children toting guns on the screen than I did for the ones toting I-Pods in the theater. Mrs. G's extraordinary gift of knowledge and enlightenment for the disadvantaged sadly bypassed the advantaged. All the movie watching adults recognized what they long to see in their children, and all the movie watching children recognized what they long to see in a text message! I truly hope Freedom Writers will influence privileged (and when I say privileged, I mean those who at least don't live in poverty) American teenagers to recognize faithful compassion, and that true gifts in life do not come with a price tag attached to them.

A History of Violence (2005)

Cronenberg's History in top form, unlike his history

[8/10 · 10 December 2006]

***1/2 out of **** stars

A History of Violence is a film about identity, and not only for one man. It's about the identifying glue that holds a family together, and the precarious absolution that may urge them into the future.

David Cronenberg's movie begins with the aftermath of bloodshed. Two cold-blooded criminals have murdered innocent merchants for no other reason than to loot their belongings for survival. We quickly learn their experience with violence has long since mutated their sensibilities into a state of apathy. Suddenly we're thrust into the life of Tom Stall (Viggo Mortensen), a diner owner in a tiny Indiana town. He's a loving husband with a loving wife (Maria Bello), and a father of a young girl and a teenage son. The film now illustrates an "everyday man" protagonist we've seen time and time again, but he has our strict attention because there's an atmosphere of impending doom: the two Criminals. Cronenberg has thus far succeeded in making us feel uncomfortable by a simple formula for conflict. We now like Tom and his seemingly perfect family very much and we hate the men we know he'll soon meet. The movie's set for us...we think. One night as Tom's about to close up the diner, the cowards walk in armed and money's not enough, they've also come for blood. After Tom's initial diplomacy fails, he deftly turns the cards on them with guns blazing and offs them both, saving the lives of others. The media quickly tries to immortalize him as a hero, and he's shown on National television, but he humbly wants to be left in peace with his loving family, passing off his bravery as something anyone would do, which makes us like him even more. Then one day at the diner in walks Carl Fogarty (Ed Harris) and a couple of his goons. Behind dark sunglasses and a badly scarred face, Carl talks to Tom as a man he knows as Joey. Something violent has happened to Carl and a man named Richie in Philadelphia, and Joey, Carl claims, has everything to do with it.

Carl's allegation turns out to be true. Tom was once a man named Joey and he's been keeping it a secret for over two decades. He has changed his persona so utterly that he has most likely omitted Joey rather than he has abandoned him. Tom has vacated his former existence, but his innate dexterity as a killer is just as it once was.

I believe whoever didn't think A History of Violence was an excellent tale possibly missed its intention to continuously, intriguingly and genetically link Tom/Joey with his wife and son. Before Tom's former identity is revealed, there's a love making sequence between Tom and his wife Edie that is so erotically honest, it should stand as an example for other film makers to follow when they're tempted to shoot a sex scene that would make a married couple already bored with each other after their wedding night. Edie surprises Tom with a role playing game, which I believe is a testament to her incognizant attraction to his true self. She doesn't know who or what he really is - even though she's "known" him for many years - yet she indirectly becomes what he really is within their rapture. Tom's son Jack (Ashton Holmes) demonstrates the identical tact and physical dexterity as his father while trying to subjugate bullies. Jack's difficulty with his tormentors makes for a fascinating and cohesive subplot. He has Joey in his blood, and he's helped to realize just how much when Joey comes to light.

It could be argued that the revengeful attempts on Joey's life could have been easily consummated with, let's say, a spray of automatic gunfire or a stealthy shot to the back of the head, but would Joey learn his lesson about loyalty with such a quick death? And let's not forget a destroyed narrative. The horrible men from his past want much more than a fallen body, they want profound reconciliation because of 20 years of silence.

I watched an interview with Scorcese several years ago where he was asked about his graphic, unpretending approach to violence. He knew no other way to present it, he said, than for what he thought it would really look like. This is the method Cronenberg uses in History. As the violence is in the manner of Scorcese, so the tension is in the tradition of Kubrick. Cronenberg's use of withdrawn characters who somehow seem insensible and sinister, reminded me of an ingredient used in films like The Shining and Eyes Wide Shut. Something's wrong with the ambiance, but we're not sure what it is.

This is by far Cronenberg's finest movie. It's an arresting character study that branches off to an immediate family where the power of forgiveness is in question. Can Tom's secret be exonerated by those who love him? Perhaps, but the price will be astronomical.

Mystery, Alaska (1999)

Stay out of the cold, unless you were a fan of Northern Exposure

[4/10 · 6 December 2006]

** out of **** stars

Mystery, Alaska has a very large cast of underdeveloped characters who eat, sleep and breathe hockey. The residents of Mystery take the game as serious as the Pope takes communion, and their infamous pond of black ice is their Holiest of Holies. If you've never pushed a Puck on it, you've never played hockey at all. For as long as anyone can remember (probably when hockey was first invented) everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, shows up in sub-zero weather to watch the immortal Saturday Game, which is made up of the most practiced and talented players who are hand picked by the Mayor and his small committee of "experts". When a writer form Sports Illustrated and former resident of Mystery (Hank Azaria) writes an article about the talented Boys of Winter, it creates enough publicity for them to score an exhibition game with the New York Rangers. After a long-winded debate, the players decide to go through with it. Gee, ya think? The film tries to make an argument whether the town's dignity will be destroyed if they get their cans kicked in, but we know all along the big game will happen. No game, no movie.

Speaking of movie, the story shouldn't have been made into one. Two hours of celluloid is nowhere near enough time to care about this cast because we hardly get to learn anything about them. Director Jay Roach should have chosen to make Mystery, Alaska into a pleasant television series, where we could revisit the town and the people who live there every week for several seasons and for several years. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that Roach told his actors to watch reruns of Northern Exposure before showing up on the set. Every character is formulated with very little history and they're all pretty much the same: pleasant, seemingly good-natured, and at times, funny. There are no stand out performances. That's right, not even Russell Crowe. No, not Burt Reynolds either. If anyone juts out a little its Azaria. He's hated by the whole town because he left it to become successful. Hank tries to play an ego maniac, but we see he's good-natured along with everyone else. Now why are we supposed to hate him again?

The film focuses on more than just hockey. The judge's teenage daughter tries to lose her virginity. The Mayor's wife commits adultery with Skank, the town Lothario. A foul-mouthed out-of-towner gets shot in the foot by a grocer. All of these sub plots have nothing to do with what gives the movie its momentum. The repercussions of their actions? We care not. If they had any kind of history at all, maybe, just maybe, we'd give a hoot.

Much of the film is shot outdoors where everyone seems to be easy to find. Hey, there's the Sheriff! Hey, there goes the Judge! Never mind the fact that it's consistently below freezing and that the heaters are all working inside, because Mystery folk love weather that would make a snowman shiver and a penguin complain. I kept waiting for someone to say: Go ahead sweetheart, watch the Saturday Game without me and I'll skip the barbecue too. I'll stay right here with my cocoa and blanket. Have fun watching pond hockey with all the other lunatics!

Okay, okay, enough with the sarcasm and on with some good news. The big match-up against the Red, White and Blue is something we look forward to and we want the underdog to win. Why wouldn't we? Everyone is likable, and the Rangers are all faceless, giant robots form a land far, far away. Mike Myers makes a cameo appearance and elicits a few giggles as a Canadian sports announcer, and Little Richard sings the National Anthem for the big event. He looks thoroughly out of place in Mystery which makes for good visual comedy, yet I'm not sure why he'd take his tour bus to Alaska or how it made it through the snow.

Mystery, Alaska is convoluted more than it is bad, and every single plot thread ties up too nicely as if to cater to everyone's petty sensibilities. It ends as if to let everyone say goodbye with forgiveness, which left me feeling squeamish. The roles are superficially orchestrated and cliché. I'll continue to wonder if Mystery, Alaska will ever be made into a T.V. series, airing just after Survivor or something. And if that ever happens, I'll be staying out of the cold.

Over the Hedge (2006)

Where's that little Clown fish when you need him?

[2/10 · 4 December 2006]

*1/2 out of **** stars

Over the Hedge sadly confirms my waning interest in the digital animation genre. After being enormously impressed with Shrek, Monsters Inc. and Finding Nemo, the films that I've since seen from Pixar and Dreamworks have had mediocre plots and trite dialouge. This movie is no exception. Over the Hedge has no sense of adventure, which I believe is a crucial element in an animated story.

After a lengthy hibernation, (only bears are supposed to hibernate, but oh well) the cute little animals simply discover - wow! - suburbia, where you'll find exciting things like SUVs, cell phones and two-story homes with identical green lawns. Let's also not forget all the awful Americans who live there. No, not one person is around with any sense of decency. The adorable creatures are more graciously human than the humans, which I suppose is a metaphor for how much people have strayed from benevolence and a sense of community. Our furry little friends are ecstatic about discovering this neighborhood because of all the processed food they find there, but the residents want them dead so they hire an exterminator, who is aptly titled "The Verminator". At numerous times the film segues from its elementary story to show us gratuitous, dizzying chase scenes that I couldn't focus on, not that I wanted to. It seemed as if the Animators created these segments to compensate for a weak script. They will certainly appeal to a kid, especially if he or she is under six and has an attention disorder.

Over the Hedge is artificially arresting. Of course it is! They all are! It seems to me the computerized craftsmanship of this genre has been set, at least for now, and no one is falling short. The voices are good also. No big surprise there. If we continue to give so many accolades to the superstar actors and musicians who speak the parts, we should also honor all the bygone men and women who were doing it decades ago, and who were just as good.

I'm not oblivious to the fact that animated movies are primarily orchestrated for children, as they should be. But this genre has proved its appeal to all ages with much better films with more depth and scope that involve jokes with double-meaning: Mom and Dad get it one way, the Kids another.

If you rent this movie one day and find yourself too busy to watch it, don't worry...press play. Feel free to leash up your dog and walk him around the block or finish up those dirty dishes at any time. Don't hit pause. Just keep it rolling. When you return to your sofa you'll fall right back into it. You won't miss a thing. Over the Hedge is so predictable, so simply formulated you can't even pride yourself in knowing what will happen next or how it will end.

Walk the Line (2005)

The depictions are very good, but the vocals are outstanding!

[7/10 · 1 December 2006]

*** out of **** stars

It's difficult for me to refrain from making comparisons between Walk the Line and Ray. Both movies showcase a main character who is an innovative musician, an addict, and a "what happens on the road, stays on the road" Lothario. Let's also not forget the vigilant wife left at home with the kids as the consolation prize. One of the best films of 2004, Ray is more successful than Walk the Line on every level. But you have to give Director James Mangold credit for creating a film that has been so widely recognized only one year after Taylor Hackford's masterpiece.

Walk the Line stars Joaquin Phoenix as a convincing Johnny Cash and Reese Witherspoon as an even more convincing June Carter. Most of the movie focuses on the years of turbulence in both of their lives until their eventual union. Phoenix does a very good job of playing a sad, broken and numb Cash, a man who is easy to pick apart. He's hooked on speed, driven - sometimes to a fault - because of a castigating father, and in love with a woman who won't have him because her complexities outweigh his, which is why when Witherspoon enters a scene the movie belongs to her more than it does to Phoenix. June's marital problems span several years with several men, it seems, through little fault of her own. She has made bad choices, and lives with enormous internal guilt and embarrassment because of them. Reese portrays a June who's extremely likable because of her ability to bury her emotional grief and unflinchingly dazzle audiences with her exercised talent as a sweet yet smug entertainer. She's instantaneously forgiving to legalistic strangers who criticize her for her "sins", and too saintly a soul for the likes of Johnny Cash.

But we still want them to hook up anyway.

I felt there was a certain amount of conflict and urgency missing in the telling of this love story amidst a lot of meditative tranquility and brightness. The sun seemed like it was up a lot, without a cloud in the sky or a wind to stir the trees. I'm not one to wish for rainstorms or lightning, but it could have made for an appropriate and occasional backdrop to such an angry, desperate and damaged man. Cash wore black for a reason.

Like Ray, Walk the Line gravitates toward the musical performances. It is now well known (and I didn't know this when I first saw the movie) that Phoenix and Witherspoon actually sang as Cash and Carter and absolutely nailed it! Their depictions were excellent but their voices were extraordinarily dead-on. After first seeing and hearing them sing together, I was consistently chomping at the bit for them to take the stage again, and again, while the melodrama behind the music unfolded. If Joaquin and Reese ever decide to book gigs as the legendary couple, I'll buy tickets, front row, and enjoy their show even more than I did the movie.

Click (2006)

Sandler plays Sandler in Click...a comedy?

[4/10 · 28 November 2006]

** out of **** stars

Click continuously reminded me of the Charles Dickens tale Scrooge: A man magically gets the chance to view his life in the past, present and future, and in the end, doesn't like what he discovers. The difference is, Click won't survive the test of time. It'll just get filed away with most of the other typical Sandler comedies. Or was this a comedy?

Adam Sandler plays architect Michael Newman, but he actually plays Adam Sandler, or his alter ego. All the Sandler mannerisms are present: sudden outbursts of yelling, a bashful, cuddly voice (especially when in dialouge with his wife), jokes that border on raunchy yet are not quite brave enough to cross the line. His wife Donna, played by Kate Beckinsale, nags him for working too much and for not spending enough time with her or their two children. The thing is, he does spend a lot of time with them, or seems to. Michael's argument with Donna is he wants to provide luxury for his family, which is why he works so hard.

This is the conflict of the story. No, there's not much else.

Michael's life seems rather pleasant, actually. His children admire and love him. His parents adore him. He lives in a big house with all the amenities. Yet, he suffers. Welcome to the world of another egocentric American.

Christopher Walken, with his idiosyncratic vocal cadence and a hairdo that rivals Einstein's rat's nest, is cast as Morty, the inventor of the "universal" remote control that changes Michaels life. Michael first meets Morty on a late night excursion to Bed, Bath and Beyond to buy a remote for his television. Morty, in his words, gives Michael his amazing device because "he seems like a good guy." A bad guy with some moral lessons to learn would have worked better, or at least a good guy with problems that were much more serious.

Michael quickly discovers how to manipulate his life with the remote. He can mute his nagging wife or his barking dog. He can fast forward through the "superfluous" experiences in his life and get to the good stuff, like job promotions and sex. He can change the color and tint of his face. Michael initially enjoys the remote so much he seems like a teenage boy who just lost his virginity. At the height of Michael's remote control ecstasy, I guessed that the invention would soon teach him some hard lessons about treating his life as if it were a game, and I guessed right. As Michael fast forwards further and further away from the present and deep into the future, the movie becomes less like a playful comedy and more like a heartfelt tragedy. The film makers seemed to let the story mutate into a different genre without much regard for it's silly roots.

I'm not blind to the fact that there are legions of adoring Adam Sandler fans in movie watching land who love to see Adam play Adam. They gladly expect it. When he plays himself he's likable, funny, charismatic and charming. He obviously knows his audience and has a fantastic grasp of popular culture from the 1970s to today. My fear is the more films he makes where he plays it safe, the harder it will be for him to explore character roles that are more than one-dimensional - as he did in Punch Drunk Love and Spanglish - and escape crucifixion. Sandler's craft has proved to be far-reaching, yet many mistake his talent and ingenuity as a journey outside the box they'd like to keep him in.

Click isn't a horrible film, but we've seen much better versions of it. It will elicit a few laughs, perhaps even a few tears. Fans of Sandler being Sandler will probably like it well enough. I myself look forward to another film that helps me almost forget that I'm watching him.

Leaving Las Vegas (1995)

Not entertaining, just arresting and remarkable!

[9/10 · 22 November 2006]

**** out of **** stars

Leaving Las Vegas is not entertaining, but that is not to say that it isn't arresting, or gutsy, or one of the most remarkable films of the 1990's.

We can see the choice potential in both the lead characters in Leaving Las Vegas, but the pollution of their souls makes positivity unattainable. Ben, played by Nicolas Cage, destroys how far the average person might think a drunk can separate himself from sobriety. Ben drinks as if it will grow him a missing limb, or change his DNA to suit him better. Through his constant intoxication we see the misguided goodness in him. Whenever we care about a wretched character in a film, the person playing that character is usually deserving of an Oscar, like De Niro in Raging Bull or Theron in Monster. The same applies here. This is a brilliant, Tour-De-Force performance by Cage.

Let's not forget Elisabeth Shue who plays Sera, a susceptible yet street-wise Las Vegas hooker. We watch snippets of Sera divulging her painful life as a prostitute as well as her growing relationship with Ben to a faceless and voiceless therapist. Through this one-sided conversation, we learn that Sera is intelligent, cerebral and lonely, yet too scarred from her enigmatic past as a Hollywood street-walker to ever quit her profession.

When Ben first approaches Sera for sex, she discovers that his soul is in need of companionship, not his body. It's poignant that the person Sera falls for is one she never sleeps with. Ben's inebriation paralyzes his ability to be physical, but it matters not. Their relationship is purely spiritual with the potential to become even better, but instead it becomes worse, because Ben and Sera are incapable of repairing themselves from drunkenness and emotional torment.

Julian Sands plays Sera's pimp, a loathsome, scheming Russian named Yuri. Yuri is a marked man and the Author's device to show us a character much more despicable than Ben or Sera could ever be. The thugs who are hunting Yuri, as well as Yuri himself, haphazardly cross paths with Ben, but he doesn't know their purpose let alone who they are. I believe these run-ins are instruments to solidify Ben's destiny with Sera. Darkness leads to brightness, then darkness again, then both.

Director Mike Figgis (Internal Affairs, The Browning Version) doesn't create Las Vegas...he shows us what it really is: a city of greed and indifference. It's the worst place for Ben to be. Perhaps that's why he chooses to go there. Drinking himself to death is not a cry for help, it's truly what he wants to do, he simply doesn't know why he wants to do it anymore because of so much abuse.

The slow, moody jazz throughout the film juxtaposes perfectly with the story. Ben, like the music, never brightens, but has MOMENTS of brightness. Sera isn't his soul-mate as much as the melodies are.

If you long for feel-good endings, or if you expect characters to always have positive development, do not watch this film. Leaving Las Vegas separates people who "love movies" from true film enthusiasts. I bet I'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who would say that Bens and Seras don't exist in the world. Cinema is able to share any story, no matter how foreboding...and apologies are not necessary in doing so.

Glory (1989)

One of the greatest masterpieces ever committed to celluloid

[10/10 · 11 November 2006]

**** out of **** stars

Regrettably, I never saw Glory on the big screen when it was released in 1989. I consider this an enormous tragedy-being the movie enthusiast that I am-because Glory is one of the greatest war masterpieces ever committed to celluloid, and I wish I had had the harrowing and breath-taking cinematic experience that was intended.

My first viewing of Glory was a mere flicker of its ending back in 1991 or '92. I was in the Navy stationed in Southern California and it was playing one afternoon in the barracks rec room. I looked up at the shabby 19-inch television and saw a regiment of black soldiers readying themselves for an attack on Fort Wagner. I knew not who these men were, or the hardships they had endured, or why they had arrived at this crossroad, but I still felt the hairs on my forearms and at the nape of my neck stand on end and the tears well up in my eyes. I cared for them instantly, and after finally watching Glory in its entirety, I cared for them even more.

From the opening frames of the battle of Antietam to the ending cataclysm at Fort Wagner, I was continuously amazed, again, at how much I cared for characters who weren't even the main players: slave children on the side of the road, or women watching the 54th Massachussets infantry consummate their pass-and-review. The pride, hope and worry in their eyes is an important element in the film's emotional continuity. Matthew Broderick is perfectly cast as Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, the proud and well educated son of Boston abolitionists. We know Shaw's advancement to Colonel is "grandfathered" by his family and their aristocratic inner-circle, but his magnanimous nature and proficiency as a leader more than makes up for it. We like Shaw so much that we forget we need to forgive him for his breeding.

Denzel Washington plays Trip, a runaway slave who has no future outside the 54th regiment. Thomas Searles, Trip's polar opposite, is played by Andre Braugher. Searles worked for Col. Shaw's father, is well-educated, idealistic and lofty enough to impose his aptitude on the soldiers who are "less learned". Throughout the hardships of basic training, Searles realizes he has more learning to do than anyone, and his initial feeling of superiority changes into shame. The great Morgan Freeman is cast as Sgt.Maj. John Rawlins, the conscience of the film. An ex-grave digger turned father figure for the 54th, Rawlins is also an arbitrator between the ill-supplied black troops and Col. Shaw. Shaw is desperate to communicate through the intellectual and racial barriers that separate him and his men, and Rawlins assists, gaining great respect for his commanding officer and sometimes mixed respect from his subordinates.

The choir-like arias and resonant cellos of James Horner's wonderful score is a staple of beauty throughout the film. I can think of no other piece of music that could be as grand, or as subtle. To this day, it remains my favorite composition in a motion picture...and I love many.

Glory is not so much a history lesson as it is a submersion into the depths of honor, and yes...glory. It's a movie that tugs on your heart strings, even after the battle is over.

Stranger Than Fiction (2006)

Wonderful and original film

[8/10 · 11 November 2006]

***1/2 out of **** stars

This is a wonderfully constructed film where it is perfectly okay to discard the question of how such a fantasy can transpire. It's pleasant to see Will Farrell as a low-key melancholic rather than his mundane alter-ego. Usually when a movie tries to juggle between a tragedy or a comedy, it fails...this one doesn't. It was obviously intended to entertain us on many levels and its poignancy, especially at its end, makes it heartfelt. Maggie Gyllenhaal is delightful as the free-spirited and earthy love interest and Dustin Hoffman's vast experience shines through as a likable yet vile literary guru. It's always refreshing to see a film and think of a particular word that can sometimes be its biggest compliment: original!