Can't forget Sarah Marshall

Thanks to HBO for bringing Forgetting Sarah Marshall back (because, you know, it's been gone so long) ...

(EW.com w/the pic ... and a bad review that spends way too much time talking about something that doesn't really matter in this movie ...)

In that linked review, much time is spentwasted talking about writer/star Jason Segal's nude scene -- and that wasn't the only place that mentioned Segal's exposed Jason (or is it Johnson*?). My reaction is much like the one re: Kathy Bates in About Schmidt -- as in, so what? I'm not necessarily interested in seeing that, but here's an easy remedy: Look away and get on with your life/the movie.

*Whaddaya need that for, Dude?

Another complaint about FSM is its derivative nature, as it harkens back to all those Judd Apatow/Seth Rogen comedies. And, well, it does, with the same rhythm (and, in many cases, the same players). So it's not wholly original in its execution. But that's not the point.

What separates FSM from the crowd (and this goes for all comedies) is its spot-on look at relationships. Good ones, bad ones, all the interested parties, everything. Unlike Knocked Up, it doesn't cop out with the phony, who-could-believe-that? ending. Unlike Wedding Crashers, the main antagonist -- the dude who's with the main dude's girl -- isn't a total cookie-cutter a-hole.

And here's the most mature part: Sarah Marshall (the Segal character's ex, played by Kristen Bell) ain't exactly a saint, but she's not a total you-know-what, either. She has her problems. So does Segal's character. So does his new love interest (Mila Kunis), Sarah's new love interest (a mostly funny but sometimes over-the-top Russell Brand), the probably gay guy who is obsessed with Sarah's new love interest (Jonah Hill, hilarious as always), the innocent virgin who is trying--well, you get the point.

Which makes it well worth the time, even if the laughs -- albeit hard* -- aren't as frequent as in other comedies of this type.

*This includes one of the funniest lines in years, though, uttered by Paul Rudd (as an airhead surfing instructor). Let's just say it's got something to do with carpet, but not drapes.

Unintentional drama

You have unintentional comedy. Can't you have unintentional drama, too?

OK, so "unintentional" isn't exactly the right word, but here's what I mean: Say you're making a comedy. Not one of those intellectual Annie Hall comedies or dark Coen Bros. comedies, either. I'm talking Will Ferrell-esque. So you're making a comedy, and you set yourself up with a pretty ridiculous premise that, essentially, is little more than a backdrop for funny lines/situations/actions of hilarious actors/etc.

Now, if you're making a good comedy, you realize this. Sure, you might complete the plot, but you know the audience doesn't care if Ron Burgundy covers the big story, or if Miles Monroe assassinates The Leader('s nose), or if Billy graduates and inherits the Madison hotel fortune. They're there for funny. Period. As some guy once said, make 'em laugh.

So you treat the plot as such. It's just kinda there.

But if you're making a lesser comedy, you get the silly notion that your story actually matters.

Like in Semi-Pro, which I finally saw recently, prompting this whole rant.

(Pic found at Canada.com)

Semi-Pro shoulda been called Semi-Good (ho ho ho), because its opening third is hilarious. Just hilarious*.

*Best line, on whether a guy who sat on the bench for an NBA-championship team deserves credit for winning a title: "I mean, if you watch a porn movie, doesn't mean you got laid."

Then the story -- about an American Basketball Association franchise trying to earn its way into an NBA-ABA merger -- takes over, and nearly all the funny fizzles.

WHY?!?!?!?!?!

A message to you comedy-makers:

We. Don't. Care.

Yes, some ... films ... can fit a terrific plot with loads of laughs. But others seem destined for comedy-and-nothing-else glory, yet can't let go of the story. And if you're like me, you're standing up in the theater/your living room, throwing junk at the screen and screaming, "Why'd you take my funny away?!"

Some other offenders:

-Wedding Crashers: Maybe the absolute worst, just for how sickeningly schmaltzy it gets near the end. The final wedding scene is just gag-worthy. Ugh. I get mad even thinking about it.

-Old School: Needed more, um, "wrestling," and less "will they save their frat and show up a pre-Ari Jeremy Piven?"

-Knocked Up: Yes, I know Judd Apatow likes to say things in his movies, but the whole third-act "I'm gonna get my life together" turn is pure comedy killer. Plus, the ending itself is just eye-rollingly unreasonable. Here's hoping Funny People doesn't fall for the same things as it goes for "comedy with MEANING."

... and now for something completely different, the all-time greatest example of a comedy that just doesn't care about its plot and isn't afraid to let you know it:

-Monty Python and the Holy Grail: The end.

Wrestler/Frost/Nixon: 2 films, 1 problem

It's funny how* the two Oscar-nominated films hitting DVD shelves today suffered from, essentially, the same problem -- one that kept them in the good-not-great category (and, consequently, provided one more reason why 2008 was pretty eh as a movie year).

*/Life turns out/The odds of faith in the face of doubt/Camera one! ... Jeez, who else remembers that song from like eight years ago? Anyone? Just me? OK.

Those two are Frost/Nixon and The Wrestler, a Best Picture nominee and a critical darling (although F/N didn't do so badly with the scribes, either).

And yet ... consider me underwhelmed. Sure, the acting is great in both -- Frank Langella (F/N) and Marisa Tomei (Wrestler) both deserved their nominations, and Mickey Rourke (Wrestler) would have won Best Actor if the Academy hadn't been too busy playing politics.

But about that storytelling ...

Let's go with F/N first -- one that stirred my fellow journalists with its portrayal of a fluff TV guy who somehow extracted the Big Confession from Richard Nixon long after he left the White House.

(The Economist with the photo)

As a (semi) true story, it's fascinating. You really root for the David Frost character (played competently by Michael Sheen*) to beat the odds and get the bombastic Nixon (Langella) to offer much more than musings on his time in office. Also, Nixon is portrayed in an unusually sympathetic way -- which might not align with one's political leanings, but at least it's different.

*Not to be confused with Martin Sheen, not to be confused with Martin Freeman, not to be confused with Morgan Freeman, not to be confused with aging stock car driver Morgan Shepherd.

The issue, though, is storytelling. Director Ron Howard and writer Peter Morgan breeze through the proceedings with little originality. All the narrative rhythms -- the highs, the lows, the scene in the backyard where Frost tells his crew, "If you're not with me on this, then leave!" -- all of it felt so ... ordinary. We know Frost will get the Big Confession, so why try to play with our emotions like that*? Why not eschew conventions, like a certain other TV journalist movie did?

*One more complaint: For God's sake, Ron ... KEEP THE CAMERA STILL. This is David Frost we're dealing with, not Jason Bourne.

And then there's The Wrestler ...

















(/film with the assist)

Among other things, Darren Aronofsky's relatively straightforward movie about a pro wrestler seeking redemption (in his career, in his love life, with his estranged daughter), received praise for not being formulaic. I disagree.

**MILD BUT VAGUE SPOILERS**

Sure, the film's ending it's not the Hollywood happy one everyone might expect, but it's formula of a different kind. Instead of fairy tale, it's predictable tragedy. And almost every frame of the film points in its direction, seeming to follow a by-the-numbers story pattern. The conclusion, to me, seemed as calculated as Slumdog Millionaire's happy ending.

d. It is written.

And although some preceding parts are terrific -- the first (and less violent) scene in the ring was among the best in '08 -- several other elements are as familiar as pro wrestling is fake: The estranged daughter. The stripper with a heart. The day on the boardwalk. The take-this-job-and-shove-it moment. Been there, seen it.

Do they ruin The Wrestler? No. Nor did F/N's issues render it bad. They just needed something different, something more, to reach greatness. Instead, each took an easier path to make their points.

Really, that last sentence pretty much sums up (most of) the films of 2008.

Paging 2007 ...

A new Frontière(s)?

What happens when a film nerd's occasional foreign film and horror forays mix?

Uh, apparently this:


That's Frontière(s), a 2008 French movie (pretty much unreleased in the U.S.) whose title translates into English as: "Gee, what do you suppose 'frontiere(s)' means?" The setup is pretty standard (a near rip-off of my all-time favorite pure horror entry, the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre): Group of kids/twentysomethings ends up at house (in this case, hotel) in remote area, but runners of said hotel/house aren't your typical farmers*.

*Our protagonists can only *wish* these people were lead farmers.

So, you say, if the film's plot is so derivative, why are you writing about it?

I'm glad you asked.

It's not so much that writer-director Xavier Gens knows what he's doing, although he clearly does -- creating some beautiful (and beautifully awful) images (even if some of them are borrowed from other places, like a scene where two characters push their way through a cave-like tunnel ... hello, The Descent). It's not the film's excruciating violence/gore, which is considerable but rarely to the point of excess (unlike Hostel and its torture-porn counterparts). And it's not how frustratingly unrealistic the last act is (where the main character, a three-months-pregnant girl who has been near-brutalized for hours, suddenly starts kicking ass).

Mostly, it's how confounding the film's message -- and yes, it has one -- is. Frontière(s) starts not on the farm but in Paris, during race riots (the quartet of main characters are of Muslim descent). We learn an extreme right-wing government is about to win the next election -- and hello, fascism! Meanwhile, the protags have pulled off a heist of some kind, are wanted by the cops, and are getting the eff out of Dodge (Dodge here meaning France).

So they wind up at that hotel to spend the night in hiding, but its owners aren't the stereotypical American in-bred hillbilly types. The patriarch is an ex-Nazi. He wants a pure-blooded race, at least in his home. He drafts the female of the group (played quite well by Karina Testa) as the family's next "mother." And you can imagine what happens to her male friends.

Now, critics have inferred and Gens himself has said that the film is meant to be symbolic, an allegory on the importance of human rights. To which I say: Yawn. Not that human rights are, like, ya know, a *bad* thing. But as a movie message, the whole government-spreading-hate bit has been played for a long, long time*. Sure, it's easy for me to say as I'm not a member of any oppressed group, but I just can't connect with the same theme again, and again, and again, and again ...

*Which, as an aside, is part of what made Children of Men such an overrated bore, despite the incredible filmmaking involved. Honestly, it's great that you're against hate and tyranny, but please don't insult my intelligence with an obvious, inarguable message. You mean penning people up like hogs is a bad thing? Golly! I** didn't know that! Thanks! Next, you should make a movie explaining that the world is round!

**And before you come at me with, "Yeah, but not *everyone* believes in the evil of tyranny," let me ask: If someone believes otherwise, do you really think a two-hour sci-fi or horror flick (with zero subtlety, no less) is going to change their minds? Really? Good luck with that.

What's interesting about Frontière(s), though, is after some personal reflection, I saw the film's message as much different, and there's a very, very late scene that sums it up perfectly (no giving it away, though, since it's SPOILER-tastic). Basically, the movie seemed to be a commentary on how we view human rights in the 21st Century: Sure, the Bush-era panic/constraints felt scary (to many, at least), but words like "Nazi" and "fascist" and "gulag" were (and, I suppose, still are) thrown around like superfluous adjectives, overused terms that lose their meaning almost instantly. Frontière(s) shows us what a *real* gulag is, who the *real* Nazis are. Think a little wiretapping is bad? You ain't seen nothin' yet.

Whether that's a healthy message is debatable, depending on your political bent. I'm not here to argue that. My point is: At least it's different, and I like different in my movies.

Now, was it Gens' intent? Probably not, according to that above interview. But if it wasn't -- oops, he messed up.

Who says movies where people hang lifeless on meathooks can't spark discussion?

The Film Official speaks, IMDB listens

OK, not really. But weeks after I offered my views on the City of God/Slumdog Millionaire connection, an IMDB.com user (not me) suggested this for their Daily Poll: Which of the two do you prefer?


Happy to report that the results, as of about 6 p.m. Tuesday, showed the superior film crushing 2008's Best Picture winner, with nearly 37 percent favoring Cidade de Deus and only about 19 percent picking Slumdog. In fact, "I have not seen one/both of them" was in second, with about 34 percent of the vote.

The people have spoken!

New on DVD: City of Slumdog Millionaire Gods

Out on shelves today, it's City of -- oops, I'm sorry, I got last year's Best Picture winner confused with this film:

(NSFC -- Not Safe for Chickens)


But hey, at least I'm not the first one to make the comparison. Guess it's easy to confuse a film that's set in a non-American slum and opens in the present day before flashing back years to a scene where the protagonist is failing at playing sports with ... another film that's set in a non-American slum and opens in the present day before flashing back years to a scene where the protagonist is failing at playing sports.

(Deep breath ...)

Anyway, not to Jai on Slumdog's Ho (that sounds dirty) -- and not to insinuate that the more recent flick is a total ripoff (the tones clearly are different) -- but it's unfortunate that the lesser of these two has been immortalized by the Academy while the other ... well, it had some pretty tough Oscar competition back in '03, so we'll let that slide.

My point is, dude, here's my point: If you're in the mood for something that's more than a simple fairy-tale love story*, try the darker, edgier Cidade de Deus (City of God).

*... that doesn't make much sense. Why, again, was Jamal so in love with Latika? I must have been texting while the characters explained that part.

If not, Slumdog's fine. It looks good, sounds good, and is exciting enough. But that love story ... I'll bet you it's no accident that the final frames of this clip came not from the movie that won the big award.

The Ruins (Or: Why did I watch this?)

Or or: An ode to horror.

Please, everyone, silence your cell phones ...


Now, with a post title like "Or: Why did I watch this?", you might expect a little film snobbery, a little commentary on character development and plot and dialogue and all that, regarding the Spring 2008 horror flick The Ruins.

Except not here. For a horror film, The Ruins -- in which a few college kids make the mistake of visiting some ruins in a Mexican jungle -- actually does those three categories pretty well. Sure, that setup isn't exactly groundbreaking, but its dead-serious (and intense) execution keeps the eye rolling to a minimum (unlike your typical kids-in-trouble screamers). It's not mind-blowing by any stretch, but that quote on the poster says it all: You'll scream, squirm, cringe and bite your nails*.

*Although, to be honest, I personally would replace "scream" with "Squeeze your eyes tiiiiiight" and replace "nails" with "knuckles and bottom lip."

So let's recap: On story, character and dialogue, we'll call The Ruins average. The positives then, are that it makes you scream, squirm, cringe and bite nails -- all because of some excruciatingly involving scenes with, well, let's not go into too much detail.

So ... why would anyone watch this, again?

And yet, I did. And I'd watch it again. And I'd watch others like it. I will watch others like it. And I'm not alone.

There's just something about horror films. Some go too far, sure, and some are so mindless, derivative and/or excessive that they're not even fun.

But when a horror film gets things juuuuust right -- just enough plot, just-appealing-enough characters, just enough scares and cringe-worthy moments (and yes, gore) -- it can be as memorable as another genre that doesn't require plot/character development/any sense whatsoever: Comedy.

So we're forever keeping an eye out for the next one*.

*And no, another CGI-riddled PG-13 offering doesn't count.

In Bruges (Or: Best of 2008?)

Leading up to the Oscars (and before this blog launched), I declared 2008 a dud year. No truly great films, I said. Some promise, some incredible moments, and one (very) near miss (Wall-E was 75% magical and 25% lame story about humans).

I hadn't seen In Bruges* when I said this.

*I blame a case of Epic Trailer FAIL for that:



HBO bailed me out recently, showing me this hilarious, clever, and strangely heartbreaking film. I had one slight problem with it, but it involves spoilers and it's only in one scene and it's really not that important a scene anyway*.

*For those who have seen it, I'm talking about what happens right after Brendan Gleeson's character leaves the bell tower, late in the movie.

Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson are hit men of some kind, and Ralph Fiennes (who doesn't show up on screen until late) is their employer of some kind. The reasons are vague. You learn things about the characters as they go -- there's no forced exposition here. Farrell's character makes a crack about Gleeson's being gay. Later you find out he's not, just through the course of natural conversations and situations.

It's not important, Gleeson's sexuality. But it's an example of a detail that just sort of emerges as the film goes on. Nothing feels forced. And yet, Bruges is consistently funny -- laugh-out-loud funny -- which is important because it also deals with some pretty heavy issues. Death, for one, is huge in In Bruges. The capacity to change is there, too. Honor, and what it costs, and whether it's worth it.

Here's the thing: It all works. It philosophizes, but it doesn't batter your head (like, say, the bell tower guard when he tells Fiennes the tower is closed for the evening). Just as Watchmen was an example of how not to philosophize on film, In Bruges shows how it's done, all while making you laugh with jokes and gags* that seem wholly natural, within the film's framework.

*Unlike, say, Little Miss Sunshine, much of which felt like quirk for the sake of quirk.

Was In Bruges the best film of 2008? I don't know. Much as I'm an Oscars obsessor, I always find the process somewhat silly; it's a stamp placed all-too-hastily and based on a swell of emotion or echo-chamber trend (see: Crash or Milk). But here's guessing In Bruges' impact lasts longer than some of the films that just got feted in that big Hollywood ceremony. Here's guessing that when I look back at 2008, In Bruges will be one of the first films to come to mind.

OUTTAKES
-Colin Farrell deserved real Oscar consideration for this role. Good lord, why didn't we hear more about this?

-Speaking of Oscars, The Film Experience blog recently called Ralph Fiennes one of 10 actors most overdue for an Oscar. His work here doesn't outshine, say, the dude playin' the dude disguised as another dude, but it's still pretty outstanding.

-Final Oscars point: That makes two '08 Original Screenplay nominees whose writing is infinitely better than the shoddy work in Milk, which won the award.

-Obscure reference of the movie: The character Jimmy (Jordan Prentice) is an American dwarf and an actor, filming in Bruges. What he's filming? A dream sequence -- which immediately brought to my mind this hilarious scene from the virtually unknown 1990s indie Living in Oblivion (Steve Buscemi, Catherine Keener, Dermot Mulroney and dwarf thespian Peter Dinklage).

-Which brings us to our line of the movie: "I hope your midget doesn't kill himself. Then your dream sequence will be f-----."