Seen at: Metrolux 14 in Loveland, Colorado at 2:00 p.m on Nov. 18.
Except for Disney/Pixar releases, I've come to dread going to any animated feature. I know from experience that it's most likely going to be uncreative and derivative, and, as I've mentioned, probably feature goofy aliens in a gratuitous manner.
Well, there were no goofy aliens in Astro Boy, but it did indeed feel quite derivative.
First off, the good points. The three-dimensional animation was superb, as it often is. It is not technical skill which is lacking in this genre. Rather it is storytelling (the most important thing).
The derivative aspect is apparent right off. We're in a "trash-heap" Earth, where technology has allowed humans to escape the surface. "Oh, it's the Wall-E world again," I thought to myself in the Metrolux. Ho hum.
That's probably a bit harsh. The story was interesting enough (side note is that I used to watch the Astro Boy cartoons on television when I was very, very young). There was just enough freshness to keep it going.
What really bummed me out was the casting of the voice actors. Nicholas Cage was just plain wrong for the part of Astro Boy's dad. It just didn't work for me. I was distracted by the Cage-ness of the character throughout the entire movie. Likewise Donald Sutherland felt wrong as the villain here. But Nathan Lane was pretty good, as the second villain.
Yes, a second villain. The adult character you think is sympathetic turns out to be a bad guy too. This is an odd movie---it's very much a kids vs. adults theme. There are almost no good adult characters in this movie, none with any real honor or courage. Even the dad character is deeply flawed only comes around at the end. The only adults who don't betray the children are spineless cowards. The kids are really on their own, to fend for themselves, with the help of benevolent robots. If nothing else, the whole premise gave me food for thought, especially considering it was made in Hong Kong.
Like I said, if you're an animation fan, you might appreciate the technical aspects of this movie. Otherwise, it's sort of, well, boring and bleak. For me the most interesting part were the closing credits, which were actually in English and in Chinese characters.
Verdict: It'll do if you need an animation fix.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Play the Game
Seen at: Carmike 10 in Fort Collins, at 4:10 pm on Nov. 17
I'd watched helplessly as this small-budget movie came and went from the theaters a few months back without my getting a chance to see it. Then two weeks ago, it crops up out of nowhere in the listings for the Carmike theaters in Fort Collins and Cheyenne. I knew the habits of the Carmike---they book movies like this for a one-week run, so I made a priority to see it right away. My intuition was confirmed when I found myself heading to tiny little auditorium #9 at the neighborhood Carmike, the one in the corner of the building with only 88 seats.
All I knew about this movie going in was that it had a scene with Andy Griffith receiving oral sex. Now I'm an old Andy fan to be sure---I've seen nearly every Matlock---but this foreknowledge didn't really have me running to the theater.
So let me just say right the back that the scene in question actually worked within the context of the story. And you only see him from the neck up.
I just plain liked this movie, overall. It's really the story of a young man (Paul Campbell), stuck in a job as a sleazy car salesman working for his father, who is really looking for love. He meets a young woman (Marla Sokoloff), and, following the dictates of the Postmodern pick-up artist (not to be confused with the Post-Postmodern version) he attempts to woo her through deception and stalking.
That is, he does everything to meet her and gain her interest except telling her about his interest in her directly. Being up front is the last thing he would ever do.
All this plays out in the context of a relationship between the young man and his grandfather (Griffith), who is in a retirement home, and is still mourning the loss of his wife. The story between the two of them is based on reciprocal teaching---the old man tries to tell his grandson about being direct with a woman, and the pleasures of long-term companionship (the old Classical way), while the grandson helps the grandfather overcome his grief and learn to be spontaneous without worrying too much about replacing his wife as a companion.
The stories work very well together. As such, the grandfather learns to loosen up (hence the scene in question) while the young man wins the young women, while only partially following his grandfather's advice. Indeed, through much effort he finally does meet her, gains her interest, and gets her to fall in love with him---all the while playing his deceptive game. But of course, at the critical moment she revolts against his insincerity and leaves him broken hearted.
Such are the wages of the efforts of the Postmodern Boy-man trying to use femininte wiles to win the woman. It only works up to a point.
Did I say feminine wiles? Yes, this movie has a wonderful Classical twist at the end, one that endorses the old double standard that whereas men must be direct and up front about their desire, women can (and perhaps should) be indirect and even downright deceptive in the courtship game.
The Postmodern Boy-man complains about this supposed double standard. The Classical man accepts and embraces it as part of the order of the universe. As you might guess, I really had a smile on my face as I left the Carmike.
Verdict: Charming and fun
I'd watched helplessly as this small-budget movie came and went from the theaters a few months back without my getting a chance to see it. Then two weeks ago, it crops up out of nowhere in the listings for the Carmike theaters in Fort Collins and Cheyenne. I knew the habits of the Carmike---they book movies like this for a one-week run, so I made a priority to see it right away. My intuition was confirmed when I found myself heading to tiny little auditorium #9 at the neighborhood Carmike, the one in the corner of the building with only 88 seats.
All I knew about this movie going in was that it had a scene with Andy Griffith receiving oral sex. Now I'm an old Andy fan to be sure---I've seen nearly every Matlock---but this foreknowledge didn't really have me running to the theater.
So let me just say right the back that the scene in question actually worked within the context of the story. And you only see him from the neck up.
I just plain liked this movie, overall. It's really the story of a young man (Paul Campbell), stuck in a job as a sleazy car salesman working for his father, who is really looking for love. He meets a young woman (Marla Sokoloff), and, following the dictates of the Postmodern pick-up artist (not to be confused with the Post-Postmodern version) he attempts to woo her through deception and stalking.
That is, he does everything to meet her and gain her interest except telling her about his interest in her directly. Being up front is the last thing he would ever do.
All this plays out in the context of a relationship between the young man and his grandfather (Griffith), who is in a retirement home, and is still mourning the loss of his wife. The story between the two of them is based on reciprocal teaching---the old man tries to tell his grandson about being direct with a woman, and the pleasures of long-term companionship (the old Classical way), while the grandson helps the grandfather overcome his grief and learn to be spontaneous without worrying too much about replacing his wife as a companion.
The stories work very well together. As such, the grandfather learns to loosen up (hence the scene in question) while the young man wins the young women, while only partially following his grandfather's advice. Indeed, through much effort he finally does meet her, gains her interest, and gets her to fall in love with him---all the while playing his deceptive game. But of course, at the critical moment she revolts against his insincerity and leaves him broken hearted.
Such are the wages of the efforts of the Postmodern Boy-man trying to use femininte wiles to win the woman. It only works up to a point.
Did I say feminine wiles? Yes, this movie has a wonderful Classical twist at the end, one that endorses the old double standard that whereas men must be direct and up front about their desire, women can (and perhaps should) be indirect and even downright deceptive in the courtship game.
The Postmodern Boy-man complains about this supposed double standard. The Classical man accepts and embraces it as part of the order of the universe. As you might guess, I really had a smile on my face as I left the Carmike.
Verdict: Charming and fun
Friday, November 27, 2009
Black Dynamite
Seen at: Lyric Cinema Cafe at 4:30 p.m. on Nov. 16.
I thought I was going to enjoy this movie, an over-the-top spoof of 1970's blaxploitation movies. It was fun for the first twenty minutes, until a scene in which the protagonist is distracted by a microphone from an overhead boom. At that point I realized that the film makers were not going to take this movie seriously. Instead, they were going to use to make a Saturday Night Live skit that lasted for two hours.
What a stupid way to ruin an otherwise good movie. Yeah, yeah, we get it. Productions in that era were slap-dash. But why ruin your own movie that way. Still I suffered through it until the story itself went haywire. Somehow they decided that they could cease telling a coherent narrative towards the end, introducing new plotlines and new characters almost at random, as if to slamdunk their point about the quality of movies from that era. Big BIG mistake. NEVER FSCK WITH THE STORY MUTHAFSCKA! Do I need to repeat that? I hope not.
Whatever you do---you can have crummy direction, lousy acting, half-ass lighting, but always always always tell a coherent story.
Verdict: almost could have been an entertaining spoof, but decided to drink its own kool-aid.
I thought I was going to enjoy this movie, an over-the-top spoof of 1970's blaxploitation movies. It was fun for the first twenty minutes, until a scene in which the protagonist is distracted by a microphone from an overhead boom. At that point I realized that the film makers were not going to take this movie seriously. Instead, they were going to use to make a Saturday Night Live skit that lasted for two hours.
What a stupid way to ruin an otherwise good movie. Yeah, yeah, we get it. Productions in that era were slap-dash. But why ruin your own movie that way. Still I suffered through it until the story itself went haywire. Somehow they decided that they could cease telling a coherent narrative towards the end, introducing new plotlines and new characters almost at random, as if to slamdunk their point about the quality of movies from that era. Big BIG mistake. NEVER FSCK WITH THE STORY MUTHAFSCKA! Do I need to repeat that? I hope not.
Whatever you do---you can have crummy direction, lousy acting, half-ass lighting, but always always always tell a coherent story.
Verdict: almost could have been an entertaining spoof, but decided to drink its own kool-aid.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
The Men Who Stare at Goats
Seen at: Carmike 10 in Ft. Collins at 1:15 p.m. on Nov. 15
Did I like this movie? I guess so. It wasn't very deep. Mostly it made me wish Hollywood made movies about the real CIA programs, such as MK-ULTRA. Someday they might---after the revolution comes, after we are ready to learn what really happened. Until then, we get stuff like this. Pass the popcorn.
Verdict: not unpleasant way to kill two hours, albeit superficial and deceptive in historical terms.
Did I like this movie? I guess so. It wasn't very deep. Mostly it made me wish Hollywood made movies about the real CIA programs, such as MK-ULTRA. Someday they might---after the revolution comes, after we are ready to learn what really happened. Until then, we get stuff like this. Pass the popcorn.
Verdict: not unpleasant way to kill two hours, albeit superficial and deceptive in historical terms.
A Serious Man
Seet at: Lyric Cinema Cafe, at 2:00 p.m on Sat. Nov. 14.
I often get tired of seeing period movies from the Sixties that dont' really feel like the 1960s. This movie was set in suburban Minneapolis in May 1967 and it felt awesomely like the Midwest in that time. I could write a lot about this movie. It blew me away. It may be the best movie of the year, and it is my favorite Cohen Brothers movie since The Big Lebowski (which I saw only three years ago). It may be their best.
How could I not like a movie that chronicles the breakdown of Classical civilization, right up the point of an aged rabbi quoting Jefferson Airplane? When the Truth is found to be lies...
It's about the Sixties, but it's really about now. It's a movie about Judaism, yet it is completely universal as well. This is how you do it. This is how you make great art.
Verdict: Superb. Perhaps the best movie of the year.
I often get tired of seeing period movies from the Sixties that dont' really feel like the 1960s. This movie was set in suburban Minneapolis in May 1967 and it felt awesomely like the Midwest in that time. I could write a lot about this movie. It blew me away. It may be the best movie of the year, and it is my favorite Cohen Brothers movie since The Big Lebowski (which I saw only three years ago). It may be their best.
How could I not like a movie that chronicles the breakdown of Classical civilization, right up the point of an aged rabbi quoting Jefferson Airplane? When the Truth is found to be lies...
It's about the Sixties, but it's really about now. It's a movie about Judaism, yet it is completely universal as well. This is how you do it. This is how you make great art.
Verdict: Superb. Perhaps the best movie of the year.
Coco Before Channel
Seen at: Lyric Cinema Cafe at 2:25 p.m. at Thu. Nov. 12
You'd think I would have seen this last summer in France, when it was showing at the multiplex in Claira. Instead I decided to wait and see it with subtitles. I'm glad I did. It wasn't mind-blowing, but it was an interesting story about an interesting character/person. At the end, I felt like I understood Chanel more. It was the kind of movie that made me wish that there were many, many more historical biopics. We could have a hundred more a year, as far as I'm concerned. Whenever you are tempted to think that there are no more good stories for movies, just remember the inexhaustible supply of interesting historical personages, about whom the public knows very little.
Verdict: nice historical biopic worth seeing.
You'd think I would have seen this last summer in France, when it was showing at the multiplex in Claira. Instead I decided to wait and see it with subtitles. I'm glad I did. It wasn't mind-blowing, but it was an interesting story about an interesting character/person. At the end, I felt like I understood Chanel more. It was the kind of movie that made me wish that there were many, many more historical biopics. We could have a hundred more a year, as far as I'm concerned. Whenever you are tempted to think that there are no more good stories for movies, just remember the inexhaustible supply of interesting historical personages, about whom the public knows very little.
Verdict: nice historical biopic worth seeing.
Where the Wild Things Are
Seen at: UA Twin Peaks in Longmont, CO at 1:00 p.m on Nov. 11
This was the first time I'd ever visited this multiplex, in the mall on the south edge of Longmont, which dates from the 1960s. It's probably the oldest multiplex in northern Colorado. The movie was a bit underwhelming.
Verdict: Un-enchanting. Somehow didn't work.
This was the first time I'd ever visited this multiplex, in the mall on the south edge of Longmont, which dates from the 1960s. It's probably the oldest multiplex in northern Colorado. The movie was a bit underwhelming.
Verdict: Un-enchanting. Somehow didn't work.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
The Box
Seen at: Carmike 10 in Fort Collins, 4:20 p.m. on Nov. 10
Ugh---more aliens. That makes three alien movies in a row. Sorry to spoil it for you, by the way.
This didn't look like a movie about aliens. I thought it was going to be a government-conspiracy thriller, a Twilight Zone genre story about a young couple who receive a mysterious box, with the offer that if they press the button, they will receive a million dollars, but someone they don't know will die. It was an intriguing set-up, and for the first act, it completely worked.
I especially liked that it was a period piece, set in 1976 in suburban Virginia. I didn't expect that. I was hooked. I wanted to see where it was going.
But this movie isn't a thriller---it's science fiction. You learn this at the mid point of the movie, and then the movie just disappears down the rat hole of weird alien phenomena with CGI magic. That could have been ok, if somehow the story had wrapped it all up at the end, but it doesn't. It just gets weirder and weirder all the way to the end. We never really learn why most of it is happening. We don't get explanations. We're just supposed to be in awe of all the strange stuff, and accept it as somehow interesting. It isn't. That's not the way movies are supposed to work.
Also it has completely the wrong resolution. The gun should have had blanks in it. That's all I'm gonna say. That would have been a much better twist. The writers totally failed here.
By the end, I had totally rejected the story. What a shame. Such a fun set-up.
Verdict: a waste of a good premise.
Ugh---more aliens. That makes three alien movies in a row. Sorry to spoil it for you, by the way.
This didn't look like a movie about aliens. I thought it was going to be a government-conspiracy thriller, a Twilight Zone genre story about a young couple who receive a mysterious box, with the offer that if they press the button, they will receive a million dollars, but someone they don't know will die. It was an intriguing set-up, and for the first act, it completely worked.
I especially liked that it was a period piece, set in 1976 in suburban Virginia. I didn't expect that. I was hooked. I wanted to see where it was going.
But this movie isn't a thriller---it's science fiction. You learn this at the mid point of the movie, and then the movie just disappears down the rat hole of weird alien phenomena with CGI magic. That could have been ok, if somehow the story had wrapped it all up at the end, but it doesn't. It just gets weirder and weirder all the way to the end. We never really learn why most of it is happening. We don't get explanations. We're just supposed to be in awe of all the strange stuff, and accept it as somehow interesting. It isn't. That's not the way movies are supposed to work.
Also it has completely the wrong resolution. The gun should have had blanks in it. That's all I'm gonna say. That would have been a much better twist. The writers totally failed here.
By the end, I had totally rejected the story. What a shame. Such a fun set-up.
Verdict: a waste of a good premise.
The Fourth Kind
Seen at: Carmike 10 in Fort Collins, at 4:35 p.m. on Nov. 9
I have to admit I was intrigued by the premise of this---Blair Witch realism meets Close Encounters alien stuff. It seemed like fun original concept.
Along those lines, the movie supposedly mixes "actual footage" of interviews with people who have experienced alien abductions with fictional depictions of the same events portrayed by Hollywood actors. Again, it seems like it could be interesting.
But it isn't. It's boring. I got sick of the side-by-side real-fictional footage conceit after five minutes and wished it would go away. I just wanted to see the fictional stuff.
But above all it's boring because nothing much really happens, aside from people sitting around talking about their experiences. I picked up on the plot twist way in advance, one that brings into question the whole motivations for the psychologist who is conducting the investigation of the supposed abductions.
There should have been more fiction, less reality. There should have been more drama and action. and fewer interview footage. The "reality" conceit just made this barely watchable.
Also this may be nitpicking, but supposedly the movie was set in Nome, Alaska, where all these "real" abductions and encounters were taking place. Nome is a barren, flat place along the coast of the Bering Sea. But the movie was shot in a temperature mountainous place with lots of trees, probably the coast of British Columbia. Ordinarily this wouldn't bother me (it's Movieland, after all), but if you're going to play the "reality" card, and you want me to buy into it all, this kind of gross switcheroo doesn't just fly with me. It's all or nothing. Like I said, I would have preferred just the fiction, in any case. A good story trumps everything, and this movie didn't have one.
Verdict: yawn.
I have to admit I was intrigued by the premise of this---Blair Witch realism meets Close Encounters alien stuff. It seemed like fun original concept.
Along those lines, the movie supposedly mixes "actual footage" of interviews with people who have experienced alien abductions with fictional depictions of the same events portrayed by Hollywood actors. Again, it seems like it could be interesting.
But it isn't. It's boring. I got sick of the side-by-side real-fictional footage conceit after five minutes and wished it would go away. I just wanted to see the fictional stuff.
But above all it's boring because nothing much really happens, aside from people sitting around talking about their experiences. I picked up on the plot twist way in advance, one that brings into question the whole motivations for the psychologist who is conducting the investigation of the supposed abductions.
There should have been more fiction, less reality. There should have been more drama and action. and fewer interview footage. The "reality" conceit just made this barely watchable.
Also this may be nitpicking, but supposedly the movie was set in Nome, Alaska, where all these "real" abductions and encounters were taking place. Nome is a barren, flat place along the coast of the Bering Sea. But the movie was shot in a temperature mountainous place with lots of trees, probably the coast of British Columbia. Ordinarily this wouldn't bother me (it's Movieland, after all), but if you're going to play the "reality" card, and you want me to buy into it all, this kind of gross switcheroo doesn't just fly with me. It's all or nothing. Like I said, I would have preferred just the fiction, in any case. A good story trumps everything, and this movie didn't have one.
Verdict: yawn.
Shorts
Seen at: Lincoln Popcorn Palace in Cheyenne, Wyoming, at 7:15 pm on Nov. 4
When I first arrived back in Fort Collins last month, I spent the first week scrambling to see any movies that were about to leave theaters for good. Shorts was at the top of my list, but I just couldn't muster up the energy to chase it down on its last day playing out in Fort Morgan, which is about eighty miles distant on the Plains. Thus I resigned myself to seeing it on DVD, which I didn't figure was too big a loss, since the trailers made this kid movie seem rather chaotic and unappealing.
Imagine my delight, however, when I saw that it had reappeared a couple weeks ago, back from the dead, to play in the area. Moreover it was showing at my favorite theater in these parts---the awesome grand old Lincoln Popcorn Palace in downtown Cheyenne. What a great excuse for trip up there.
As I mentioned, I used the trip to visit the Carmike Frontier in the mall north of town to see Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant. Afterwards, I drove into downtown Cheyenne and explored the streaks a little before ducking into the LPP. It's a privilege to see a flick in an old theater like this.
As I sat in the auditorium before the start of the trailers, I thought about how the owners had obviously named it "Lincoln Popcorn Palace" in order to sell more popcorn, which along with soft drinks forms the lifeblood of revenue for theaters like this. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted some popcorn, not only because I was hungry, but because I thought it would good to support the theater that way. After all, I'd only paid three bucks for the ticket.
When I got to the counter, I discovered to my further delight that at the LPP, they take the amount of your ticket off your first popcorn purchase. Since I'd chosen a medium (four bucks), it only cost me a dollar. As if I needed a further reason to like this place!
I got another shock when the movie started. During the opening credits, I learned that it was written and directed by Robert Rodriguez. He also co-produced it, when suggested right off the bat that no one else was willing to move the ball and finance this project. Not always a good sign, for a Hollywood movie.
What to say about Rodriguez. Well, on the one hand, I have to root for the guy. He was a student of my roommate in Austin when he used a deck of VCRs to make his first version of El Mariachi as a class project.
On the other hand, an Austinite can't fool an Austinite, and Shorts seemed to me to fall into the category of Austinesque material that wasn't meant to see the light of day to the outside world, as if it were made under the influence of too many psychedelic drugs without the steadying hand of a hard-assed outside producer to keep it in line.
The title, by the way, refers to the fact that the movie is narrated by one of the boy charactes as a series of "shorts" he has made with his digital video camera about the strange goings-on in his town (actually a Hill Country subdivision outside Austin).
As a kid's movie, this is just all over the map---fragmented, chaotic, and weird-in-a-not-always good sense. Also it's very disgusting, in a "giant booger come to life" sort of way.
The story falls smack into the genre of Dysfunctional American Family stories. Like Aliens in the Attic, which came out an the same time, the family dysfunction is used as an opening for the appearance of miniature extraterrestrials. That can't be a coincidence. There is something to this cultural meme that I have to keep my eye on.
Along the lines of American dysfunction, the climax of the movie features an evil corporate boss who has turned himself into a giant Transformers-type bot. He is menacing the townspeople who are also his employees. His daughter, who has turned herself into a giant wasp, is buzzing around him, trying to sting him and stop his rampage, all the while underscored by a soundtrack of a choir chanting the name of a popular Macintosh typeface.
What a bizarre picture of America in 2009. I couldn't help wondering what the hell Gary Cooper and Cecil B. De Mille who think of this. Would they even understand it? But that's Rodriguez, I guess.
I suppose I'm glad this movie was made. It's bizarre enough to be interesting. But it's not a kid's movie. I wouldn't recommend it to my nieces and nephews---maybe to my Austin friends, but they're weird, you know.
Verdict: well...uh...it's certainly different.
When I first arrived back in Fort Collins last month, I spent the first week scrambling to see any movies that were about to leave theaters for good. Shorts was at the top of my list, but I just couldn't muster up the energy to chase it down on its last day playing out in Fort Morgan, which is about eighty miles distant on the Plains. Thus I resigned myself to seeing it on DVD, which I didn't figure was too big a loss, since the trailers made this kid movie seem rather chaotic and unappealing.
Imagine my delight, however, when I saw that it had reappeared a couple weeks ago, back from the dead, to play in the area. Moreover it was showing at my favorite theater in these parts---the awesome grand old Lincoln Popcorn Palace in downtown Cheyenne. What a great excuse for trip up there.
As I mentioned, I used the trip to visit the Carmike Frontier in the mall north of town to see Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant. Afterwards, I drove into downtown Cheyenne and explored the streaks a little before ducking into the LPP. It's a privilege to see a flick in an old theater like this.
As I sat in the auditorium before the start of the trailers, I thought about how the owners had obviously named it "Lincoln Popcorn Palace" in order to sell more popcorn, which along with soft drinks forms the lifeblood of revenue for theaters like this. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted some popcorn, not only because I was hungry, but because I thought it would good to support the theater that way. After all, I'd only paid three bucks for the ticket.
When I got to the counter, I discovered to my further delight that at the LPP, they take the amount of your ticket off your first popcorn purchase. Since I'd chosen a medium (four bucks), it only cost me a dollar. As if I needed a further reason to like this place!
I got another shock when the movie started. During the opening credits, I learned that it was written and directed by Robert Rodriguez. He also co-produced it, when suggested right off the bat that no one else was willing to move the ball and finance this project. Not always a good sign, for a Hollywood movie.
What to say about Rodriguez. Well, on the one hand, I have to root for the guy. He was a student of my roommate in Austin when he used a deck of VCRs to make his first version of El Mariachi as a class project.
On the other hand, an Austinite can't fool an Austinite, and Shorts seemed to me to fall into the category of Austinesque material that wasn't meant to see the light of day to the outside world, as if it were made under the influence of too many psychedelic drugs without the steadying hand of a hard-assed outside producer to keep it in line.
The title, by the way, refers to the fact that the movie is narrated by one of the boy charactes as a series of "shorts" he has made with his digital video camera about the strange goings-on in his town (actually a Hill Country subdivision outside Austin).
As a kid's movie, this is just all over the map---fragmented, chaotic, and weird-in-a-not-always good sense. Also it's very disgusting, in a "giant booger come to life" sort of way.
The story falls smack into the genre of Dysfunctional American Family stories. Like Aliens in the Attic, which came out an the same time, the family dysfunction is used as an opening for the appearance of miniature extraterrestrials. That can't be a coincidence. There is something to this cultural meme that I have to keep my eye on.
Along the lines of American dysfunction, the climax of the movie features an evil corporate boss who has turned himself into a giant Transformers-type bot. He is menacing the townspeople who are also his employees. His daughter, who has turned herself into a giant wasp, is buzzing around him, trying to sting him and stop his rampage, all the while underscored by a soundtrack of a choir chanting the name of a popular Macintosh typeface.
What a bizarre picture of America in 2009. I couldn't help wondering what the hell Gary Cooper and Cecil B. De Mille who think of this. Would they even understand it? But that's Rodriguez, I guess.
I suppose I'm glad this movie was made. It's bizarre enough to be interesting. But it's not a kid's movie. I wouldn't recommend it to my nieces and nephews---maybe to my Austin friends, but they're weird, you know.
Verdict: well...uh...it's certainly different.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Cirque du Freak: the Vampire's Assistant
Seen at: Carmike Frontier 9 in Cheyenne, Wyoming, 4:15 p.m. on Nov. 4
I was already up in Cheyenne for another movie, so I decided to check out the Carmike multiplex in the Frontier Mall on the north edge of town. I like multiplexes that have entrances right inside the mall itself. I'd forgotten that Cheyenne is full of military personnel from the bases there.
It wasn't a bad little multiplex, all in all, although the walls seemed to be thin. I could hear the booming soundtrack from the movie in the auditorium next door. On the plus side, the stadium seating was much better than the traditional seating of its corporate sibling in Fort Collins.
As for the movie, it's based on a children's book that comes out of the now-familiar Harry Potter tradition of a young person being saved from their boring life and dysfunctional family by outside supernatural influences. Bah.
The story started out ok, but somehow I just got bored watching John C. Reilly as a vampire. I got bored with the teenage kid protagonist. I didn't really care what happened to them. This tends to happen to me in any story in which the plot is driven by supernatural stuff.
Moreover, it's clear that this was, of course, setting up a longer series of stories. I don't really care about it, and unless the book is tremendously popular, it doesn't work (as it didn't in the Golden Compass movie). I wouldn't be surprised if there aren't any more movies made in this series.
Update: I was also particularly offended by the needless destruction of classic old theater during the climax of this movie---perhaps a variation on my Laws of Destruction?
Verdict: enough already with the vampires, and the whole supernatural rescue of a kid stuff.
I was already up in Cheyenne for another movie, so I decided to check out the Carmike multiplex in the Frontier Mall on the north edge of town. I like multiplexes that have entrances right inside the mall itself. I'd forgotten that Cheyenne is full of military personnel from the bases there.
It wasn't a bad little multiplex, all in all, although the walls seemed to be thin. I could hear the booming soundtrack from the movie in the auditorium next door. On the plus side, the stadium seating was much better than the traditional seating of its corporate sibling in Fort Collins.
As for the movie, it's based on a children's book that comes out of the now-familiar Harry Potter tradition of a young person being saved from their boring life and dysfunctional family by outside supernatural influences. Bah.
The story started out ok, but somehow I just got bored watching John C. Reilly as a vampire. I got bored with the teenage kid protagonist. I didn't really care what happened to them. This tends to happen to me in any story in which the plot is driven by supernatural stuff.
Moreover, it's clear that this was, of course, setting up a longer series of stories. I don't really care about it, and unless the book is tremendously popular, it doesn't work (as it didn't in the Golden Compass movie). I wouldn't be surprised if there aren't any more movies made in this series.
Update: I was also particularly offended by the needless destruction of classic old theater during the climax of this movie---perhaps a variation on my Laws of Destruction?
Verdict: enough already with the vampires, and the whole supernatural rescue of a kid stuff.
Couples Retreat
Seen at: Carmike 10 in Fort Collins, 4:00 p.m. on Nov. 3
Mildly interesting story of multiple couples in a retreat in Tahiti, and how they rediscover the importance of committed relationships. Like many comedies lately, it wasn't as raunchy as I thought it was going to be from the trailers. Story gets a bit choppy towards the middle, as I couldn't really follow the thread of the overlapping bickering among the couples, and where my sympathies were supposed to lie. Yet it manages to stay coherent enough to be watchable.
Verdict: not overly offensive
Mildly interesting story of multiple couples in a retreat in Tahiti, and how they rediscover the importance of committed relationships. Like many comedies lately, it wasn't as raunchy as I thought it was going to be from the trailers. Story gets a bit choppy towards the middle, as I couldn't really follow the thread of the overlapping bickering among the couples, and where my sympathies were supposed to lie. Yet it manages to stay coherent enough to be watchable.
Verdict: not overly offensive
Capitalism: a Love Story
Seen at: the Lyric Cinema Cafe, a couple weeks ago at an afternoon matinee (Lyric doesn't give tickets)
When I walked out the Lyric after seeing this movie, my reaction was "brilliant...and braindead." The brilliant part was Moore's examination of the corruption of Wall Street. There was also some good on-the-spot documentation of people getting their homes confiscated during foreclosure.
The braindead part was when Moore actually tried to draw conclusions. According to Moore, capitalism is "evil" (actually wording). He flat out pushes Communism at us as the solution, showing us footage of Stalin while implying how foolish we were to think that this is what Communism is about.
At one point he goes to Washington, D.C. and looks at the original document of the Constitution, notices that it says "We" and "People" and concludes that it is not a capitalist document but sounds a lot "like that other ism." That pretty much sums up the depth of his thinking on this issue.
A lot of hilarious idiocy is woven through, most of it in trying to do gymnastics to defend his personal savior Obama (He-Who-Must-Be-Adored). For example, Moore goes through the list of revolving-door Wall Street cronies that filled the Bush Administration. He includes Timothy Geithner in that list, implying Geithner was a Bush appointee. But it was good old Obama who appointed Geithner. Like I said, braindead.
At one point, he implies that the entire prosperity of post World War II America was because we had bombed our competition into the ground. Then later he implies it was because of strong unions, and we need to get back to that. Which is it, Michael?
We are told profit is evil, and shown the solution: a bread factory in California where the workers are the owners. We are told that profit motive is now banished in decision making. I nearly fell out of my chair. That's capitalism, Michael, staring you right in the face!
Moore is not about logical arugmentation, but about feeling. All solutions are about how they sound and feel. And this leads us right to the end, where he asserts that everything would have been perfect if we had just adopted FDR's Second Bill of Rights which basically makes poverty Unconstitutional. The solution was easy all along! I was surrounded by middle-aged and elderly liberals in the audience who were weeping and clapping as FDR appeared on screen at the end. Then the credits roll while we hear a Vegas nightclub version of the Communist Internationale hymn.
I know Moore doesn't give a damn if his arguments make logical sense. He's going to make lots of evil profit off this movie that will give him a chance to make more movies. The problem is that I do indeed care that arguments make logical sense. To anyone who does, Moore's movie will be utterly infuriating, mostly because people are actually listening to him.
As the emoting liberals left the theater, leaving me alone in the auditorium, I sat with my bad containing the copy of The Gulag Archipelago I was reading. If you want to read about people getting their homes confiscated, as well as tortured, and killed by the system by the millions, it's a good read.
Verdict: hypocritical and illogical.
When I walked out the Lyric after seeing this movie, my reaction was "brilliant...and braindead." The brilliant part was Moore's examination of the corruption of Wall Street. There was also some good on-the-spot documentation of people getting their homes confiscated during foreclosure.
The braindead part was when Moore actually tried to draw conclusions. According to Moore, capitalism is "evil" (actually wording). He flat out pushes Communism at us as the solution, showing us footage of Stalin while implying how foolish we were to think that this is what Communism is about.
At one point he goes to Washington, D.C. and looks at the original document of the Constitution, notices that it says "We" and "People" and concludes that it is not a capitalist document but sounds a lot "like that other ism." That pretty much sums up the depth of his thinking on this issue.
A lot of hilarious idiocy is woven through, most of it in trying to do gymnastics to defend his personal savior Obama (He-Who-Must-Be-Adored). For example, Moore goes through the list of revolving-door Wall Street cronies that filled the Bush Administration. He includes Timothy Geithner in that list, implying Geithner was a Bush appointee. But it was good old Obama who appointed Geithner. Like I said, braindead.
At one point, he implies that the entire prosperity of post World War II America was because we had bombed our competition into the ground. Then later he implies it was because of strong unions, and we need to get back to that. Which is it, Michael?
We are told profit is evil, and shown the solution: a bread factory in California where the workers are the owners. We are told that profit motive is now banished in decision making. I nearly fell out of my chair. That's capitalism, Michael, staring you right in the face!
Moore is not about logical arugmentation, but about feeling. All solutions are about how they sound and feel. And this leads us right to the end, where he asserts that everything would have been perfect if we had just adopted FDR's Second Bill of Rights which basically makes poverty Unconstitutional. The solution was easy all along! I was surrounded by middle-aged and elderly liberals in the audience who were weeping and clapping as FDR appeared on screen at the end. Then the credits roll while we hear a Vegas nightclub version of the Communist Internationale hymn.
I know Moore doesn't give a damn if his arguments make logical sense. He's going to make lots of evil profit off this movie that will give him a chance to make more movies. The problem is that I do indeed care that arguments make logical sense. To anyone who does, Moore's movie will be utterly infuriating, mostly because people are actually listening to him.
As the emoting liberals left the theater, leaving me alone in the auditorium, I sat with my bad containing the copy of The Gulag Archipelago I was reading. If you want to read about people getting their homes confiscated, as well as tortured, and killed by the system by the millions, it's a good read.
Verdict: hypocritical and illogical.
The Informant!
Seen at: Cinema Saver 6 in Ft. Collins, 8:45 p.m. on Nov. 2
This movie is really two movies. The first half is about a guy who works as an executive at Archer Daniels Midland and who after discovering high-level corporate corruption, and decides to expose it. The second half is about...uh...well, something else.
In any case, I'm not sure what this movie was really supposed to be saying in the end. It felt very confusing, and not in a good way. Perhaps it was just too clever for me.
Also, I couldn't help noticing that although the movie was set in the early 1990s, the art direction and costumes seemed to recall the 1970s. It felt anachronistic. Perhaps that was part of the cleverness of the movie that went over my head.
Verdict: entertaining at times, but a bit...off.
This movie is really two movies. The first half is about a guy who works as an executive at Archer Daniels Midland and who after discovering high-level corporate corruption, and decides to expose it. The second half is about...uh...well, something else.
In any case, I'm not sure what this movie was really supposed to be saying in the end. It felt very confusing, and not in a good way. Perhaps it was just too clever for me.
Also, I couldn't help noticing that although the movie was set in the early 1990s, the art direction and costumes seemed to recall the 1970s. It felt anachronistic. Perhaps that was part of the cleverness of the movie that went over my head.
Verdict: entertaining at times, but a bit...off.
Law-Abiding Citizen
Seen at: Cinemark 16 in Ft. Collins 11:55 a.m. on Nov. 2
At times this felt like a decent movie with a few clever plot twists, but at other times it felt like an amped-up ripoff of Silence of the Lambs (including a scene where I guy in prison orders a full meal and then kills someone in the cell with him!).
My main impression, however, is that it is utter straightforward propaganda for the Police State. The moral seems to be that the law is for suckers, and if the police are going to get anything done, they need to do what needs to be done, and screw the law.
The most vivid scene in this regard is one in which the Mayor of Philadelphia is swearing in the protagonist (Jamie Foxx) as the new District Attorney. He has his hand on the Bible and is affirming that he will uphold the Constitution. In the very next scenes the Mayor declares martial law and a complete "lockdown" of the city, and the DA protagonist is busting into private property while saying "Screw his civil rights." That's Postmodernity in a nutshell to me, at least at is applies to the law.
Verdict: barf.
At times this felt like a decent movie with a few clever plot twists, but at other times it felt like an amped-up ripoff of Silence of the Lambs (including a scene where I guy in prison orders a full meal and then kills someone in the cell with him!).
My main impression, however, is that it is utter straightforward propaganda for the Police State. The moral seems to be that the law is for suckers, and if the police are going to get anything done, they need to do what needs to be done, and screw the law.
The most vivid scene in this regard is one in which the Mayor of Philadelphia is swearing in the protagonist (Jamie Foxx) as the new District Attorney. He has his hand on the Bible and is affirming that he will uphold the Constitution. In the very next scenes the Mayor declares martial law and a complete "lockdown" of the city, and the DA protagonist is busting into private property while saying "Screw his civil rights." That's Postmodernity in a nutshell to me, at least at is applies to the law.
Verdict: barf.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Surrogates
Seen at: Cinema Saver 6 in Fort Collins, at 9:30 p.m. on Nov. 1
One can't help noticing that often Hollywood movies come out in pairs---i.e. two or more films released near to each other with nearly the same premises. Such was the case this fall with Gamer and Surrogates, both of which involve the use of human beings controlling avatars. In fact, Avatar in December will make it a triple.
I saw Gamer in Memphis and loved it---one of those quiet movies that will fly under the radar and remain in the public memory for a long time. I was not surprised that it stuck around in theaters for a while. Surrogates, on the other hand, got tepid reviews. It came and went quickly from the first run multiplexes, and wound up in the cheapo second run theater in Ft. Collins after only a few weeks.
Imagine my surprise when I wound up liking it---a lot. First off, it has a slightly different premise than Gamer, where people control other humans as avatars. In Surrogates, the humans control android avatars. The movie is set in a dystopian future in which everyone stays indoors almost permanently, and does all outside activity thorugh their robot avatars.
O.K., this isn't a masterpiece, but it had fun original concept and a story that kept me interested all the way through. There are some goofy scenes here and there, but I cared about the characters. There's even an anti-eugenics message in it, as the bad guy basically hates human beings and want to sterilize the Earth. What's not to like here?
Verdict: Unexpectedly fun as sci-fi. One of those "bad" movies that is actually quite watchable.
One can't help noticing that often Hollywood movies come out in pairs---i.e. two or more films released near to each other with nearly the same premises. Such was the case this fall with Gamer and Surrogates, both of which involve the use of human beings controlling avatars. In fact, Avatar in December will make it a triple.
I saw Gamer in Memphis and loved it---one of those quiet movies that will fly under the radar and remain in the public memory for a long time. I was not surprised that it stuck around in theaters for a while. Surrogates, on the other hand, got tepid reviews. It came and went quickly from the first run multiplexes, and wound up in the cheapo second run theater in Ft. Collins after only a few weeks.
Imagine my surprise when I wound up liking it---a lot. First off, it has a slightly different premise than Gamer, where people control other humans as avatars. In Surrogates, the humans control android avatars. The movie is set in a dystopian future in which everyone stays indoors almost permanently, and does all outside activity thorugh their robot avatars.
O.K., this isn't a masterpiece, but it had fun original concept and a story that kept me interested all the way through. There are some goofy scenes here and there, but I cared about the characters. There's even an anti-eugenics message in it, as the bad guy basically hates human beings and want to sterilize the Earth. What's not to like here?
Verdict: Unexpectedly fun as sci-fi. One of those "bad" movies that is actually quite watchable.
The Stepfather
Seen at: Carmike 10 in Fort Collins, 1:15 pm on Nov. 1.
It was interesting contemporary premise---a psychopathic serial killer who continually remarries women with children, and then murders the family, moving on to the next one.
Began badly, with an assault on Christmas in the first scene. Hollywood hates Christmas, of course, as I've mentioned, and takes every opportunity to show how dysfunctional it all is. Peace on Earth is for suckas.
Story held up fairly well, but I grew enraged at the overt predictive programming telling us that anyone who uses cash instead of electronic transactions is to be feared. This was released by Sony Screen Gems, which I've noticed in the past is very much on board with pushing the idea in its movies that we should surrender to the electronic control grid for our own safety and security (specifically in last year's Untraceable, which curiously enough was also set largely in a basement in Portland ,Oregon). The moral of this movie: if only we'd let the police track our every move, none of these dreadful things would happen to us!
Also the story gets a little wild the end and lacks the appropriate Hitchcockian emotional release. I could overlook that, if it weren't for the overtly totalitarian messages being thrown at me.
Verdict: Could have been half-way decent, but ruined by embedded Fascism.
It was interesting contemporary premise---a psychopathic serial killer who continually remarries women with children, and then murders the family, moving on to the next one.
Began badly, with an assault on Christmas in the first scene. Hollywood hates Christmas, of course, as I've mentioned, and takes every opportunity to show how dysfunctional it all is. Peace on Earth is for suckas.
Story held up fairly well, but I grew enraged at the overt predictive programming telling us that anyone who uses cash instead of electronic transactions is to be feared. This was released by Sony Screen Gems, which I've noticed in the past is very much on board with pushing the idea in its movies that we should surrender to the electronic control grid for our own safety and security (specifically in last year's Untraceable, which curiously enough was also set largely in a basement in Portland ,Oregon). The moral of this movie: if only we'd let the police track our every move, none of these dreadful things would happen to us!
Also the story gets a little wild the end and lacks the appropriate Hitchcockian emotional release. I could overlook that, if it weren't for the overtly totalitarian messages being thrown at me.
Verdict: Could have been half-way decent, but ruined by embedded Fascism.
Paranormal Activity
Seen at: Carmike 10 in Fort Collins, 10 pm on Oct. 28.
(Note: I've fallen so far behind in write-ups, I've just decided to shot-fun them all with short comments)
What a disappointment. From the hype, you'd think this was something interesting and novel in the horror genre---sort of Blair Witch Project type "reality" ghost story set in a condo. It starts out that way, and then it just degenerates, mostly because the film makers violate the "don't show too much" rule of horror. When the Ouija Board caught on fire, I just burst out laughing. By showing too much actual "activity" of the supernatural (caught on tape!), it just looks silly.
It's too bad, because the psychological basis of the horror was interesting. It's about a young unmarried couple. The "ghost" is basically a manifestation of the rage that the young feels towards her goofy forever-adolescent Postmodern boyfriend who wants to play with his toys instead of facing up to his adult responsibilities (by marrying her). He makes the situation worse at every turn, and the "ghost" gets angrier along with the woman.
If only they had played it a little more close to the vest, it would have worked. Last shot of the movie dreadfully stupid use of CGI. Too bad.
Verdict: Good premise for horror, and almost worked, but ruined with too much goofy supernatural.
(Note: I've fallen so far behind in write-ups, I've just decided to shot-fun them all with short comments)
What a disappointment. From the hype, you'd think this was something interesting and novel in the horror genre---sort of Blair Witch Project type "reality" ghost story set in a condo. It starts out that way, and then it just degenerates, mostly because the film makers violate the "don't show too much" rule of horror. When the Ouija Board caught on fire, I just burst out laughing. By showing too much actual "activity" of the supernatural (caught on tape!), it just looks silly.
It's too bad, because the psychological basis of the horror was interesting. It's about a young unmarried couple. The "ghost" is basically a manifestation of the rage that the young feels towards her goofy forever-adolescent Postmodern boyfriend who wants to play with his toys instead of facing up to his adult responsibilities (by marrying her). He makes the situation worse at every turn, and the "ghost" gets angrier along with the woman.
If only they had played it a little more close to the vest, it would have worked. Last shot of the movie dreadfully stupid use of CGI. Too bad.
Verdict: Good premise for horror, and almost worked, but ruined with too much goofy supernatural.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Jennifer's Body
Seen at: Elvis Arvada 8, evening of Oct. 27.
It was interesting to see this movie later in the day after Tyler Perry's latest movie, because both had a lot to do with contemporary spirituality. Whereas I Can Do Bad All By Myself was partly about the struggle to incorporate Christianity into modern life, in particular among the urban black community, Jennifer's Body focused on the prevalence of Satanism in small town and suburban white America, at least as Hollywood sees it.
Satanism, you say? Really? Well, yes, Satanism has indeed become the dominant religion of America as depicted in the mirror that Hollywood wants to hold up to us (whether it's true or not is a different story). Many people think our national "movie world" religion is bland agnosticism coated with Christian tradition (like Christmas trees, etc.), but this is false and I can prove it.
In the eyes of Hollywood (outside of a few film makers like Perry), Christianity is utterly dead. No one except religious freaks believes in Jesus anymore, and they are given no quarter in mainstream Hollywood. But what we should believe in, according to Hollywood, is every story about demons rising from hell and taking possession of people. We must believe in every occult legend about paranormal evil spiritual power wreaking havoc in our lives. A quick survey of the recent horror movies will prove my point.
This, my friends, is exactly what Satanism is about---the belief in the dominance of evil spirtual forces in the material world and the impotence of any prevailing idea of good.
Jennifer's Body tackles this head on in the first scene. The heroine, a high school girl, is locked inside a mental institution. We will soon go back in time to find out how she got there, but before we do, in her opening lines, she explicitly denies the power of Jesus to help her. Above all, this is a movie about hopelessness.
I really expected to hate this movie walking into, but I was suprised at how much I enjoyed most it. The story was different that I expected,not your run-of-the-mill horror cliches. I didn't realize unitl the end that is was written by Diablo Cody, the ex-stripper who won and Academy Award for her original screenplay of Juno.
But Juno is light-hearted and life-affirming. Jennifer's Body is very dark, and it just keeps getting darker all the way through. On the surface, there is nothing wrong with such darkness on screen, but the story just takes us to places that really made me wonder about the sanity and intentions of those who made this.
Basically in the final minutes, and over the closing credits, the story puts the viewer in sympathy with a psychotic killer who commits a ritual mass satantic killing in a hotel room. We are supposed to be on her side, because it is righteous revenge.
This is exactly the natural and logical culmination of the Satanist instinct---the moral justification of mass murder out of sense that the victims deserved it in some unforgivable way.
On bright side---and I can't believe I'm saying this---I actually enjoyed the performance of Megan Fox. She and Cody should work together more often. For once, I thought Fox was well cast and turned in a decent performance. Her character turns out to be much more sympathetic than you'd expect from the trailer---as much a victim as anyone else. This facet of the story is probably what kept it interesting, and from being swallowed completely by the darkness.
Speaking of darkness, I almost got swallowed up by it myself on the way home from Arvada, in the weirdest freakiest early season snowfall ever in Colorado. The only thing that kept me from running off the road were the tail lights of the cars in front of me. Thank you, Jesus!
Verdict: more interesting than I thought it would be, but extremely dark.
It was interesting to see this movie later in the day after Tyler Perry's latest movie, because both had a lot to do with contemporary spirituality. Whereas I Can Do Bad All By Myself was partly about the struggle to incorporate Christianity into modern life, in particular among the urban black community, Jennifer's Body focused on the prevalence of Satanism in small town and suburban white America, at least as Hollywood sees it.
Satanism, you say? Really? Well, yes, Satanism has indeed become the dominant religion of America as depicted in the mirror that Hollywood wants to hold up to us (whether it's true or not is a different story). Many people think our national "movie world" religion is bland agnosticism coated with Christian tradition (like Christmas trees, etc.), but this is false and I can prove it.
In the eyes of Hollywood (outside of a few film makers like Perry), Christianity is utterly dead. No one except religious freaks believes in Jesus anymore, and they are given no quarter in mainstream Hollywood. But what we should believe in, according to Hollywood, is every story about demons rising from hell and taking possession of people. We must believe in every occult legend about paranormal evil spiritual power wreaking havoc in our lives. A quick survey of the recent horror movies will prove my point.
This, my friends, is exactly what Satanism is about---the belief in the dominance of evil spirtual forces in the material world and the impotence of any prevailing idea of good.
Jennifer's Body tackles this head on in the first scene. The heroine, a high school girl, is locked inside a mental institution. We will soon go back in time to find out how she got there, but before we do, in her opening lines, she explicitly denies the power of Jesus to help her. Above all, this is a movie about hopelessness.
I really expected to hate this movie walking into, but I was suprised at how much I enjoyed most it. The story was different that I expected,not your run-of-the-mill horror cliches. I didn't realize unitl the end that is was written by Diablo Cody, the ex-stripper who won and Academy Award for her original screenplay of Juno.
But Juno is light-hearted and life-affirming. Jennifer's Body is very dark, and it just keeps getting darker all the way through. On the surface, there is nothing wrong with such darkness on screen, but the story just takes us to places that really made me wonder about the sanity and intentions of those who made this.
Basically in the final minutes, and over the closing credits, the story puts the viewer in sympathy with a psychotic killer who commits a ritual mass satantic killing in a hotel room. We are supposed to be on her side, because it is righteous revenge.
This is exactly the natural and logical culmination of the Satanist instinct---the moral justification of mass murder out of sense that the victims deserved it in some unforgivable way.
On bright side---and I can't believe I'm saying this---I actually enjoyed the performance of Megan Fox. She and Cody should work together more often. For once, I thought Fox was well cast and turned in a decent performance. Her character turns out to be much more sympathetic than you'd expect from the trailer---as much a victim as anyone else. This facet of the story is probably what kept it interesting, and from being swallowed completely by the darkness.
Speaking of darkness, I almost got swallowed up by it myself on the way home from Arvada, in the weirdest freakiest early season snowfall ever in Colorado. The only thing that kept me from running off the road were the tail lights of the cars in front of me. Thank you, Jesus!
Verdict: more interesting than I thought it would be, but extremely dark.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Tyler Perry's I Can Do Bad All By Myself
Seen at: Century 12, in Aurora, late morning on Oct. 27
Tyler Perry is a national treasure. I didn't used to think that, because I didn't really get his movies. It seemed annoying that he came out with a movie every six months and put his name on the front of every title.
But he deserves to put his name there. He creates lucid and compelling stories on screen with lucid camera work . He shares well-drawn and interesting characters with us. He addresses issues of personality morality in an innovative fashion.
Perry is probably the most Classical director in Hollywood right now. From a Hollywood standpoint, perhaps the most exceptional part of his stories is that he can address the theme of spirituality in contemporary life, and draw upon the good parts of Christianity, without covering it all in the sauce of too much base-level irony.
That he can do this is in large part because of the character Madea, the sexagenarian woman whom he plays in drag. It's an absurd concept, but I've decided it works, at least for me. I take back what I said about it not working, because it does.
I got the pleasure of seeing it with a primarily Africa-American audience in Aurora, near the mall off the interstate, on a late morning, mostly among couples and older folk. There were about fifty people in the audience, a good crowd for that time of day. Most of them seem to like it a lot, and I learned some things about black culture from the jokes they laughed it.
Perry is excellent at evoking true Aristotlean pathos. Seeing his movies puts me in a good state, in a heightened appreciation of the world, and of other people. I like life better, after I see his movies. That's the power of art, in a nutshell.
Maybe I'll even like the next Woody Allen movie. Who knows? I'm game to try.
Verdict: one of my favorite movies of the year, without a doubt.
Tyler Perry is a national treasure. I didn't used to think that, because I didn't really get his movies. It seemed annoying that he came out with a movie every six months and put his name on the front of every title.
But he deserves to put his name there. He creates lucid and compelling stories on screen with lucid camera work . He shares well-drawn and interesting characters with us. He addresses issues of personality morality in an innovative fashion.
Perry is probably the most Classical director in Hollywood right now. From a Hollywood standpoint, perhaps the most exceptional part of his stories is that he can address the theme of spirituality in contemporary life, and draw upon the good parts of Christianity, without covering it all in the sauce of too much base-level irony.
That he can do this is in large part because of the character Madea, the sexagenarian woman whom he plays in drag. It's an absurd concept, but I've decided it works, at least for me. I take back what I said about it not working, because it does.
I got the pleasure of seeing it with a primarily Africa-American audience in Aurora, near the mall off the interstate, on a late morning, mostly among couples and older folk. There were about fifty people in the audience, a good crowd for that time of day. Most of them seem to like it a lot, and I learned some things about black culture from the jokes they laughed it.
Perry is excellent at evoking true Aristotlean pathos. Seeing his movies puts me in a good state, in a heightened appreciation of the world, and of other people. I like life better, after I see his movies. That's the power of art, in a nutshell.
Maybe I'll even like the next Woody Allen movie. Who knows? I'm game to try.
Verdict: one of my favorite movies of the year, without a doubt.
Whatever Works
seen at: Chez Sanyo, via Redbox, two weeks ago.
One of the movies I missed while I was in Europe was Woody Allen's latest, Whatever Works, which he made from a script he wrote in the late 1960's, but which the studios passed on. I can barely describe how much this movie disgusted me.
There are some good things about this movie, specifically the casting and the acting by Larry David and Evan Rachel Wood, one of my favorite young actresses. But that's about it. Everything else about his movie repulsed me.
It's the story of a miserable and nihilistic physicist in Manhattan who makes it his purpose in life to bring as many other people into his misery as possible, and thereby "save" them. Simply put, this is a hate letter to America. Everyone would be better off if they came to New York and embraced their sexual deviancy and homosexuality, and coverted to Judaism. It's as if Allen saw the success of Sasha Baron Cohen's movies and said, "Hey, I can do that. In fact, I did. Let me dust off that old script."
It combines the absurd naivte of the 1960s cutlure with the toilet-bowl mentality of today's Hollywood. There is no irony. Nihilism is better. America outside of Manhattan sucks--a virulently anti-Semitic wasteland that deserves no sympathy.
Verdict: a pefect insight into the Postmodern mentality. An all-time low for Allen, and a perfect x-ray of his dysfunction. I felt sorry for David and Wood for being in this.
One of the movies I missed while I was in Europe was Woody Allen's latest, Whatever Works, which he made from a script he wrote in the late 1960's, but which the studios passed on. I can barely describe how much this movie disgusted me.
There are some good things about this movie, specifically the casting and the acting by Larry David and Evan Rachel Wood, one of my favorite young actresses. But that's about it. Everything else about his movie repulsed me.
It's the story of a miserable and nihilistic physicist in Manhattan who makes it his purpose in life to bring as many other people into his misery as possible, and thereby "save" them. Simply put, this is a hate letter to America. Everyone would be better off if they came to New York and embraced their sexual deviancy and homosexuality, and coverted to Judaism. It's as if Allen saw the success of Sasha Baron Cohen's movies and said, "Hey, I can do that. In fact, I did. Let me dust off that old script."
It combines the absurd naivte of the 1960s cutlure with the toilet-bowl mentality of today's Hollywood. There is no irony. Nihilism is better. America outside of Manhattan sucks--a virulently anti-Semitic wasteland that deserves no sympathy.
Verdict: a pefect insight into the Postmodern mentality. An all-time low for Allen, and a perfect x-ray of his dysfunction. I felt sorry for David and Wood for being in this.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Closer (2004)
Seen at: Chez Sanyo, last week
Now that I have Netflix again for the first time since starting this blog, I'm wondering if I'll wind up writing up an entry on every DVD movie I see. Probably not, I suppose, since it would bog me down further than I already am. So I'll play it by ear for the time being.
That being said, I felt like I needed to write up something about Closer, which I saw last week at home. Like Dial M for Murder, it was suggested to me strongly by my friend Tiffany as one of her favorite movies. But whereas the Hitchcock movie is a masterpiece, I found Closer to be one of the least appealing movies I've seen recently.
Closer was directed by Mike Nichols, one of the finest auteurs of our era, and one I admire greatly. Among his early films is The Graduate (1967), which of course everyone loves, as well as Working Girl (1988), which is one of personal all-time favorites. But Closer was just a piece of dung, in my opinion.
The story is set in London and surrounds the painful and everchanging romantic interweaving of four people---two American women and two British men. The characters were unappealing and flopped around in emotional self-indulgence and self-pity without any redemption. The men, of course, are particularly dishonorable and unable to control their impulses and emotions in any way.
Among other things, the movie makes the familiar equation of "not lying" with "being obsessively candid," especially in regard to sexuality (see my write-up of The Invention of Lying).
Moreover, the men in the movie are obsessed with the sexual histories of the women. One of the received pieces of wisdom in Classical cinema was that women should be in control of their sexual past. It was part of the concept of female honor, as it was defined then. In the Classical view, no good is ever accomplished by forcing a woman to reveal her sexual history. A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) is one of the best examples of this from the Classical era: Stanley destroys Blanche by forcing her to confront the "truth" about herself.
But whereas Tennessee Williams was conscious of the principle that a man should accept the polite fiction that a woman is allowed to present herself as a "blank slate," Postmodernity demands that we all be obsessively candid, and that requiring a thorough confession of one's sexual partner is always a righteous thing to do.
Or at least that's the impression I got from Closer, that "this is how things are," without offering any insight beyond this cultural illness. Another way of saying this is that whereas A Streetcar Named Desire is a true tragedy, Closer just wallows in a bestial semi-enlightened muck.
Perhaps what really turned me off to this film is how much it was transparently a stage play in a very clumsy way. If you read my write-up for Dial M for Murder, you might find this ironic, but in every scene of this movie I could see the dialog typed up on the page. I could see the actors "acting" their hearts out. And this from Mike Nichols?
I can't believe this was nominated for Oscars, especially in 2004, which was a decent year.
Well, Tiffany, on my count, you're one for two.
Verdict: Yecch.
Now that I have Netflix again for the first time since starting this blog, I'm wondering if I'll wind up writing up an entry on every DVD movie I see. Probably not, I suppose, since it would bog me down further than I already am. So I'll play it by ear for the time being.
That being said, I felt like I needed to write up something about Closer, which I saw last week at home. Like Dial M for Murder, it was suggested to me strongly by my friend Tiffany as one of her favorite movies. But whereas the Hitchcock movie is a masterpiece, I found Closer to be one of the least appealing movies I've seen recently.
Closer was directed by Mike Nichols, one of the finest auteurs of our era, and one I admire greatly. Among his early films is The Graduate (1967), which of course everyone loves, as well as Working Girl (1988), which is one of personal all-time favorites. But Closer was just a piece of dung, in my opinion.
The story is set in London and surrounds the painful and everchanging romantic interweaving of four people---two American women and two British men. The characters were unappealing and flopped around in emotional self-indulgence and self-pity without any redemption. The men, of course, are particularly dishonorable and unable to control their impulses and emotions in any way.
Among other things, the movie makes the familiar equation of "not lying" with "being obsessively candid," especially in regard to sexuality (see my write-up of The Invention of Lying).
Moreover, the men in the movie are obsessed with the sexual histories of the women. One of the received pieces of wisdom in Classical cinema was that women should be in control of their sexual past. It was part of the concept of female honor, as it was defined then. In the Classical view, no good is ever accomplished by forcing a woman to reveal her sexual history. A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) is one of the best examples of this from the Classical era: Stanley destroys Blanche by forcing her to confront the "truth" about herself.
But whereas Tennessee Williams was conscious of the principle that a man should accept the polite fiction that a woman is allowed to present herself as a "blank slate," Postmodernity demands that we all be obsessively candid, and that requiring a thorough confession of one's sexual partner is always a righteous thing to do.
Or at least that's the impression I got from Closer, that "this is how things are," without offering any insight beyond this cultural illness. Another way of saying this is that whereas A Streetcar Named Desire is a true tragedy, Closer just wallows in a bestial semi-enlightened muck.
Perhaps what really turned me off to this film is how much it was transparently a stage play in a very clumsy way. If you read my write-up for Dial M for Murder, you might find this ironic, but in every scene of this movie I could see the dialog typed up on the page. I could see the actors "acting" their hearts out. And this from Mike Nichols?
I can't believe this was nominated for Oscars, especially in 2004, which was a decent year.
Well, Tiffany, on my count, you're one for two.
Verdict: Yecch.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Dial M for Murder (1954)
Seen at: Chez Sanyo, last week
A couple weeks ago, sitting around in a bar with some high school classmates, the subject of movies came up, and we began to compare opinions about contemporary and classic films.
One of my classmates, John R., who worked with me way-back-when on the high school newspaper, said he found contemporary films more enjoyable partly because of the acting. He said that acting in old films looked less natural, probably because actors back then were more influenced by stage acting.
It's an opinion I've heard several times before about classic films. I explained why I disagreed with it.
"Modern 'naturalistic' was invented very early in movie history," I said, "By 1915 Lillian Gish had fairly well mastered the modern cinematic style, as fluidly as, say, Robert De Niro today. What you're seeing in old films is not stage acting, but the fact that fifty years ago, people were actually different. They talked differently. They stood, walked, and held their bodies differently. They had a different vocabulary of gestures and facial expressions."
Last week I thought again about this very subject while watching Dial M for Murder at home. "Chez Sanyo" is what I call my home DVD setup, since Sanyo is the brand of both my DVD player and my television.
I had reactivated Netflix two weeks ago, after the long hiatus of my road trip. Dial M for Murder was the very first movie I put in my queue, for several reasons, one being that my friend Tiffany had insisted I see it. It was one of her favorite movies, and she had repeatedly pestered me about it, making this movie buff feel somewhat embarrassed that he had not yet seen it.
Moreover, the iconic scissors scene with Grace Kelly is one of the clips featured in Turner Classic Movie's 100 Years at the Movies montage (at about the 5:40 mark). I've tried to make a point of identifying and seeing all the movies in it, including the Edison silent shorts at the beginning. There are only a few movies featured in that are left for me to see.
One of the things that struck me while watching the film was how much one could tell that this was an actual film from the 1950s, instead of a film made today and set in the 1950s. First off, the way the clothes fit on the bodies of the actors is just plain different. Somehow the costume makers of today can make clothes that look like clothes back then, but they can't tailor them the same way, for some reason.
Moreover, there is that now-foreign syntax of facial expressions, a vernacular that is no longer current but is part of the past. Actors today use the syntax of today to convey emotions and thoughts that are readily identifiable to today's audiences. But it is not the same syntax as fifty years ago.
But maybe my friend John was correct. After all, it was more common in the Classical era to adapt hit Broadway plays as motion pictures. Perhaps there was something to this argument that acting back then was closer to stage acting.
So I asked myself: were the actors in this movie acting as if on stage? I pondered this while I got absorbed into the narrative. Cripes, Ray Milland is fantastic. I'd already known that. But this movie finally convinced me beyond a doubt that Grace Kelly is a great actress as well.
By the end of the movie, I could see no dominance of stage acting, anymore than one would see in a movie today. It thus wound up confirming my previously held opinion.
But the joke was on me. After watching the film itself, I started going through the DVD extras. There was a short feature on the history and making of the film, from which I learned a few surprising things.
For example, I learned that when this movie was made (1954), 3-D movies were all the rage (as they are today), and Hitchcock actually had to shoot this in 3-D (there are a couple give-away shots, such as when Ray Milland holds up a key to the camera). The movie is rarely screened in 3-D today, but I would love love love to see it in a theater that way.
But the most surprising thing to learn about this movie was that not only was it based on a stage play, but Hitchcock essentially shot it as a stage play with hardly any modification. This blew me away. In most cases, you can tell when a classic movie is based on a stage play, but this just went right by me, mostly because of the way Hitchcock uses the camera. In fact almost all the action is confined to a single room, just as it was originally on stage.
Yet for all that, I had not thought I was witnessing "stage acting." Gosh, I love Classic cinema.
Verdict: A masterpiece, of course---even in 2-D.
A couple weeks ago, sitting around in a bar with some high school classmates, the subject of movies came up, and we began to compare opinions about contemporary and classic films.
One of my classmates, John R., who worked with me way-back-when on the high school newspaper, said he found contemporary films more enjoyable partly because of the acting. He said that acting in old films looked less natural, probably because actors back then were more influenced by stage acting.
It's an opinion I've heard several times before about classic films. I explained why I disagreed with it.
"Modern 'naturalistic' was invented very early in movie history," I said, "By 1915 Lillian Gish had fairly well mastered the modern cinematic style, as fluidly as, say, Robert De Niro today. What you're seeing in old films is not stage acting, but the fact that fifty years ago, people were actually different. They talked differently. They stood, walked, and held their bodies differently. They had a different vocabulary of gestures and facial expressions."
Last week I thought again about this very subject while watching Dial M for Murder at home. "Chez Sanyo" is what I call my home DVD setup, since Sanyo is the brand of both my DVD player and my television.
I had reactivated Netflix two weeks ago, after the long hiatus of my road trip. Dial M for Murder was the very first movie I put in my queue, for several reasons, one being that my friend Tiffany had insisted I see it. It was one of her favorite movies, and she had repeatedly pestered me about it, making this movie buff feel somewhat embarrassed that he had not yet seen it.
Moreover, the iconic scissors scene with Grace Kelly is one of the clips featured in Turner Classic Movie's 100 Years at the Movies montage (at about the 5:40 mark). I've tried to make a point of identifying and seeing all the movies in it, including the Edison silent shorts at the beginning. There are only a few movies featured in that are left for me to see.
One of the things that struck me while watching the film was how much one could tell that this was an actual film from the 1950s, instead of a film made today and set in the 1950s. First off, the way the clothes fit on the bodies of the actors is just plain different. Somehow the costume makers of today can make clothes that look like clothes back then, but they can't tailor them the same way, for some reason.
Moreover, there is that now-foreign syntax of facial expressions, a vernacular that is no longer current but is part of the past. Actors today use the syntax of today to convey emotions and thoughts that are readily identifiable to today's audiences. But it is not the same syntax as fifty years ago.
But maybe my friend John was correct. After all, it was more common in the Classical era to adapt hit Broadway plays as motion pictures. Perhaps there was something to this argument that acting back then was closer to stage acting.
So I asked myself: were the actors in this movie acting as if on stage? I pondered this while I got absorbed into the narrative. Cripes, Ray Milland is fantastic. I'd already known that. But this movie finally convinced me beyond a doubt that Grace Kelly is a great actress as well.
By the end of the movie, I could see no dominance of stage acting, anymore than one would see in a movie today. It thus wound up confirming my previously held opinion.
But the joke was on me. After watching the film itself, I started going through the DVD extras. There was a short feature on the history and making of the film, from which I learned a few surprising things.
For example, I learned that when this movie was made (1954), 3-D movies were all the rage (as they are today), and Hitchcock actually had to shoot this in 3-D (there are a couple give-away shots, such as when Ray Milland holds up a key to the camera). The movie is rarely screened in 3-D today, but I would love love love to see it in a theater that way.
But the most surprising thing to learn about this movie was that not only was it based on a stage play, but Hitchcock essentially shot it as a stage play with hardly any modification. This blew me away. In most cases, you can tell when a classic movie is based on a stage play, but this just went right by me, mostly because of the way Hitchcock uses the camera. In fact almost all the action is confined to a single room, just as it was originally on stage.
Yet for all that, I had not thought I was witnessing "stage acting." Gosh, I love Classic cinema.
Verdict: A masterpiece, of course---even in 2-D.
The Invention of Lying
Seen at: Cinemark 16, Fort Collins, CO on Mon. Oct. 26
From the trailers, I knew that The Invention of Lying was one of the those movies that I was definitely not going to pay full price for, so I schlepped out of the house on Monday morning to catch the very first pre-noon show at the Cinemark 16, which is about three miles from where I type this.
Ten minutes into this movie, I knew it was going to be a disaster, so much so that my jaw was hanging open from what I was seeing.
First, a little background, in case you didn't see the trailer. This movie is supposedly set in a fictional world in which lying has never been invented. There isn't even a word for lying, and people have no concept of it. The story follows a hapless man named Mark (Ricky Gervais) who one day discovers how to tell lies. This changes his whole life, and eventually the world. Much of the narrative is driven by a romance, namely Mark's pursuit of the beautiful but dunderheaded Anna (Jennifer Garner). There's a whole raft of supporting roles and cameos from other well-known actors who somehow got roped into making this.
But this is a Gervais project, thorugh and thorugh, as he not only starred in it, but wrote and directed it. It therefore gives a pretty good glimpse at his vision of the world, and it is an ugly and confused vision.
What's so screwed up about this movie? It's that it indulges in what I consider to be one of the greatest errors of Postmodernity: the conflation of being honest with being obsessively and proactively candid. I see this conflation over and over, and I think it is a sickness of our time, that we no longer understand the concept of honesty, and by extension truth. This movie does not really explore this, but instead wallows in the error---well at least for most of the time. It had it's moments, ones that almost redeemed it.
For most of the movie, the charcters in this "honest" world go around spontaneously saying every thought and emotion that crosses their mind. To be honest, according to Gervais, is to be constantly cruel and vulgar. Insults are flung with ease. Men openly proclaim there sexual desires, and women, of course, spend most of their time recoiling from them. Come to think of it, this is a lot like the world now. Maybe this movie is brilliant after all.
Let's compare this to the world of Classical cinema, which indeed is a world in which decent and honorable characters are indeed obsessively honest. Classical cinema understood the difference between honesty and obsessive candor, and the high value of discretion. Heroes and heroines of Classical stories could go out of their way to tell the truth even while using the truth to deceive a villain, or protect a loved one or an innocent person. The only time Classical heroes were permitted to outright lie was when it was necessary to protect the honor of someone else, and this lying usually took the form of taking the blame or responsibility for something the hero didn't actually do (i.e., self-sacrifice).
Yet this honesty was not considered a weakness but a strength. Such honesty made characters who were impeccable, whose word was unbreakable, and who were built out of steel (Superman is actually a great example---he lived an entire double life without having to openly tell lies).
That someone like Gervais can make a movie like this shows you how far away from this notion we have come. Honesty is now considered a weakness of character, one that must be overcome. The world needs lies at every turn, we are told, if it is to turn at all. How low we have sunk, when we no longer even recognize what honesty and truth are.
The movie was saved from being a complete disaster by a story that did not painfully follow the trajectory I anticipated. I mentioned recently how deception is the basic spice of Hollywood stories, one that can create proper Hollywood narrative where it would not otherwise exist. I figured this movie would follow the standard outline of a "deception" story, given the subject matter, but instead it wandered off in directions I did not quite anticipate. This actually made it more watchable, thankfully. Act Three zigged when I thought it would zag, and so I wasn't completely disgusted and bored by the end, but curious to see how it would turn out.
At one point the story suprised me by delving into the realm of spirituality in a rather nuanced way. Probably the most interesting point of the movie is when Mark unwittingly "invents" a story of the afterlife to calm the fears of his dying mother. When others hear of this idea, it spirals out of control, such that Mark becomes a prophet of the first "religion."
There were some beautiful moments in here. One could have read the first "lie" Mark told as in fact divine revelation, and thus his "falsehood" about the immortality of the soul was, unbeknownst to him, truth.
But this story is not enlightened enough to linger in that state. Instead it devolves into the silliness of showing that all religions are outrageous "lies" about a "man in the sky," while simultaneously shoving outrageous product placement for a pizza franchise in our face (I'm not kidding here). That mythologies are "falsehoods" is a subject worthy of exploring, but this was just juvenile, pointless, and nihilistic.
Perhaps the stupidest part of thi supposed romantic comedy is the romance itself. Mark (Gervais) keeps telling Anna (Garner) what a wonderful person she is. Uh, no she's not. She's stupid, superficial, vain, and self-centered. The only reason he is pursuing her is because of her pretty face. But instead of admitting this fact, it is projected onto the rival and villain (Rob Lowe). Thus Mark is actually lying to himself about why he likes Anna. But the movie does not explore this irony at all. It is unconscious of its own overt falsehoods, while thinking it is being clever in revealing the falsehoods of others. Come to think of it, that's a great description of Postmodernity as a whole.
Verdict: a Postmodern train wreck that was interesting only because the story was not completely predictable.
From the trailers, I knew that The Invention of Lying was one of the those movies that I was definitely not going to pay full price for, so I schlepped out of the house on Monday morning to catch the very first pre-noon show at the Cinemark 16, which is about three miles from where I type this.
Ten minutes into this movie, I knew it was going to be a disaster, so much so that my jaw was hanging open from what I was seeing.
First, a little background, in case you didn't see the trailer. This movie is supposedly set in a fictional world in which lying has never been invented. There isn't even a word for lying, and people have no concept of it. The story follows a hapless man named Mark (Ricky Gervais) who one day discovers how to tell lies. This changes his whole life, and eventually the world. Much of the narrative is driven by a romance, namely Mark's pursuit of the beautiful but dunderheaded Anna (Jennifer Garner). There's a whole raft of supporting roles and cameos from other well-known actors who somehow got roped into making this.
But this is a Gervais project, thorugh and thorugh, as he not only starred in it, but wrote and directed it. It therefore gives a pretty good glimpse at his vision of the world, and it is an ugly and confused vision.
What's so screwed up about this movie? It's that it indulges in what I consider to be one of the greatest errors of Postmodernity: the conflation of being honest with being obsessively and proactively candid. I see this conflation over and over, and I think it is a sickness of our time, that we no longer understand the concept of honesty, and by extension truth. This movie does not really explore this, but instead wallows in the error---well at least for most of the time. It had it's moments, ones that almost redeemed it.
For most of the movie, the charcters in this "honest" world go around spontaneously saying every thought and emotion that crosses their mind. To be honest, according to Gervais, is to be constantly cruel and vulgar. Insults are flung with ease. Men openly proclaim there sexual desires, and women, of course, spend most of their time recoiling from them. Come to think of it, this is a lot like the world now. Maybe this movie is brilliant after all.
Let's compare this to the world of Classical cinema, which indeed is a world in which decent and honorable characters are indeed obsessively honest. Classical cinema understood the difference between honesty and obsessive candor, and the high value of discretion. Heroes and heroines of Classical stories could go out of their way to tell the truth even while using the truth to deceive a villain, or protect a loved one or an innocent person. The only time Classical heroes were permitted to outright lie was when it was necessary to protect the honor of someone else, and this lying usually took the form of taking the blame or responsibility for something the hero didn't actually do (i.e., self-sacrifice).
Yet this honesty was not considered a weakness but a strength. Such honesty made characters who were impeccable, whose word was unbreakable, and who were built out of steel (Superman is actually a great example---he lived an entire double life without having to openly tell lies).
That someone like Gervais can make a movie like this shows you how far away from this notion we have come. Honesty is now considered a weakness of character, one that must be overcome. The world needs lies at every turn, we are told, if it is to turn at all. How low we have sunk, when we no longer even recognize what honesty and truth are.
The movie was saved from being a complete disaster by a story that did not painfully follow the trajectory I anticipated. I mentioned recently how deception is the basic spice of Hollywood stories, one that can create proper Hollywood narrative where it would not otherwise exist. I figured this movie would follow the standard outline of a "deception" story, given the subject matter, but instead it wandered off in directions I did not quite anticipate. This actually made it more watchable, thankfully. Act Three zigged when I thought it would zag, and so I wasn't completely disgusted and bored by the end, but curious to see how it would turn out.
At one point the story suprised me by delving into the realm of spirituality in a rather nuanced way. Probably the most interesting point of the movie is when Mark unwittingly "invents" a story of the afterlife to calm the fears of his dying mother. When others hear of this idea, it spirals out of control, such that Mark becomes a prophet of the first "religion."
There were some beautiful moments in here. One could have read the first "lie" Mark told as in fact divine revelation, and thus his "falsehood" about the immortality of the soul was, unbeknownst to him, truth.
But this story is not enlightened enough to linger in that state. Instead it devolves into the silliness of showing that all religions are outrageous "lies" about a "man in the sky," while simultaneously shoving outrageous product placement for a pizza franchise in our face (I'm not kidding here). That mythologies are "falsehoods" is a subject worthy of exploring, but this was just juvenile, pointless, and nihilistic.
Perhaps the stupidest part of thi supposed romantic comedy is the romance itself. Mark (Gervais) keeps telling Anna (Garner) what a wonderful person she is. Uh, no she's not. She's stupid, superficial, vain, and self-centered. The only reason he is pursuing her is because of her pretty face. But instead of admitting this fact, it is projected onto the rival and villain (Rob Lowe). Thus Mark is actually lying to himself about why he likes Anna. But the movie does not explore this irony at all. It is unconscious of its own overt falsehoods, while thinking it is being clever in revealing the falsehoods of others. Come to think of it, that's a great description of Postmodernity as a whole.
Verdict: a Postmodern train wreck that was interesting only because the story was not completely predictable.
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