Craiger’s Cinema Corner

1/2*  out of  ****

After suffering through HANNIBAL RISING I felt like one of the title character’s victims just before the kill.  Perhaps I should spare you of some much needed time and not write another one of my long, detailed, and thorough full length reviews and just end it right here.

Who am I kidding?

Okay, but two words alone can sum up HANNIBAL RISING:

Absolutely unnecessary.

Hannibal Lector is easily one of the cinema’s most iconic of all screen villains and one of fiction’s greatest creations.  After seeing the light of day in Thomas Harris’ novels, it seemed a ripe time in the mid 1980’s for one of his books to be made into a feature.  There was 1986’s MANHUNTER, a tense and taut Michael Mann thriller, which starred Brain Cox as the famous cannibal.  Then came 1991’s Oscar darling, THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, which starred the Sir Anthony Hopkins in the legendary role that is now considered immortal by the movie gods.  The films and character became so popular that sequels seemed inevitable.  Ridley Scott’s HANNIBAL came in 2001 (oddly ineffective considering the director) and the next year saw Brett Ratner’s RED DRAGON (oddly effective considering the director), a adaptation of Thomas Harris’s first Lector book, which – ironically – was made into MANHUNTER years earlier. 

After watching the last three Lector film efforts, one painfully inevitable conclusion is reached:

Hopkins is truly irreplaceable in the part. 

I think that the key to classic film roles is that it is next to impossible to see any other actor occupying them.  What Hopkins did masterfully in SILENCE OF THE LAMBS and, to a degree, in HANNIBAL and RED DRAGON was to forge the personification of evil.  In his hands, Lector was not one of those maniacal, blood-thirsty, and brainless serial killers.  Hopkins made him a literate, ruthlessly cunning, and a wonderfully well spoken creation.  That’s what makes him so terrifying and fun to watch.  Seeing Hopkins be so effortlessly droll, eerily charming, and endlessly haunting in the part was a joy to watch.  There was always an uneasy tension and creepiness to Lector.  He was a soft-spoken and cultured monster, which made him truly frightening.

This prologue brings me HANNIBAL RISING, which only goes out of its way to prove that you should never, ever conceive to make a film about an enigmatic and iconic film character without having the talent that made the part famous.  Oh, but wait…this is a prequel to the other Hannibal films that tries…nay…pains to tell us of the secret motivation that made Lector who he would eventually become.  Yet, the makers seem to lack any foresight whatsoever in knowing that (a) perhaps de-mystifying Lector is not what audiences want and (b) seeing a Lector film without Hopkins is a waste of time…honestly!

It has be proven that you simply cannot go back to the cinematic well, regurgitate legendary screen parts immortalized by other actors, and hope for success. Can anyone honestly see anyone else in the part but Hopkins?  Lector goes on a short list of great screen personas that can’t simply be played as well by other actors.  Consider…say…Inspector Clouseau of the Pink Panther series.  For me, no one could ever adequately fill the shoes of Peter Sellers.  That’s what made the PINK PANTHER remake of 2006 utterly dead on arrival; Steve Martin is funny, but he can’t replace Sellers and, more crucially, why would anyone want to?  The same holds true for Lector.  It’s simply too difficult for me to watch another actor play him.  When this happens, the new actor either comes off like he’s doing a horrible caricature of the famous role or he is doing an equally dreadful impersonation of the actor known for the role.  Either way, making HANNIBAL RISING seems ridiculous in theory.  Any young actor that would attempt to play a young Hannibal would simply carry too much baggage to bare.

Maybe it is why the twenty-something cannibal-to-be says almost nothing during the first 40 or so minutes of the film.  When he finally utters a line, it is such a jaw-droppingly laughable exercise in attempting to duplicate Hopkins’ mannerisms.  The wickedly bad performance is courtesy of Gaspard Ulliel, an otherwise fine French actor who appeared in A VERY LONG ENGAGEMENT.  Instead of attempting to create a something fresh and original with the role and make it his own (which one needs to done here) he goes for outright mimickery, and the results are cringe-worthy.  It’s the kind of woefully preposterous imitation that one would find on SNL.

Ulliel is not the only damning bit of the film; HANNIBAL LECTOR tries to humanize a monster by explaining his roots that led to his demonic ways.  Watching the film – essentially an origin story – I was reminded oddly of 2010, the sequel to Kubrick’s masterful 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY.  2010 was by no means a terrible film like HANNIBAL RISING, but it resembles it in the sense that it probes and tries to solve all of the narrative puzzles and themes that permeated 2001.  Yet, the great thing about 2001 is its stunning impenetrability; it’s brilliant because of its mysterious and inscrutable storyline.  Sometimes, not knowing the answers to everything is a good thing.  2010 did not know this, as does HANNIBAL RISING.  Really, do we really need to know why and how Lector starting dining on his favorite dish of human liver in a nice chianti?

If anything, the origin story is a real hum-dinger of horrid melodrama mixed with the trappings of a Charles Bronson revenge flick…with Nazis!  As the film opens we see Hannibal as a young lad in 1944.  He does not seem to have a vile bone in his body.  Hell, he does not even try to burn ants with a magnifying glass.  Instead, he’s a plucky and cheerful boy whose privileged live takes a nose dive during the war.  During a violent and bloody battle between a Nazi aircraft and a Russian tank, Hannibal’s parents are brutally murdered and he is left alone to watch over his baby sister.  Unfortunately, his home is taken over by a group of marauders that secure it to defend themselves.  Soon, it appears that their food supply is growing very depleted.  One of the evil men then starts to look at Hannibal and his sister.  Perhaps they would make fine meals?

Yup.  The dastardly marauders eat little Lector’s sister. 

The film then flash forwards eight years where we see the older Hannibal (Ulliel) where the boy is haunted by the memories of dear, little sister being made into a broth (who wouldn’t?).  The story then goes in miraculously inane directions.  He hooks up with his widowed Japanese, kendo trained aunt (I am not fooling), Lady Muraski (Gong LI, who just may be the most beautiful 41-year-old actress working).  In pure Miyagi and Yoda-like fashion, Hannibal stumbles upon her secret samurai shrine to her ancestors and she soon begins to train him in the art of sword-fighting (?).  Meanwhile, Hannibal is able to get a scholarship and become one of the youngest students at a prestigious medical school, despite the film never once explaining how he was able to secure such a spot.

It’s also a miracle that Hannibal managed to finish school and become a doctor because he then engages in a revenge mission that should have concluded with his prison sentence.  With Muraski’s training – and her very sharp knives and swords – he goes on a cannibalistic rampage to find his sis’ killers so he can torture and eat them.  Meanwhile, as Hannibal hunts his prey a Paris Inspector named Popil (Dominic West, wasted here) tries to do everything but bring Hannibal to justice.

Despite overwhelming evidence that Hannibal should go to jail for killing the men, the French war crimes officer lets him off the hook more times than I can count.  Oh, he does facilitate the movie’s need for a person to utter it’s most ham-invested and cookie cutter dialogue.  My favorite occurs after Hannibal  passes a lie detector test perfectly, to which the inspector states, “He reacts to nothing…he’s monstrous.”  Well, Lector himself also engages in witless and banal dialogue worthy of Ed Wood Jr., like when his aunt pleads, “Don’t kill him,” and he responds, “But they ate my sister!!”

I could literally go on forever as to the problems with HANNIBAL RISING.  Ulliel’s performance, as mentioned, is one issue, as is the film’s insistence with humanizing this monster.  There is something borderline offensive about how the movie glamorizes and glorifies Lector’s sadism.  Oh, but he’s actually the victim.  If man-eating war criminals did not eat his sister, then he would have never committed further atrocities, would have never gone to prison, would have never met FBI agent Starling, and so forth.  Granted, the men he kills mercilessly are equally evil, not to mention that they are in no way worthy of living.  However, the film seems to sidestep the notion of all of his future murders of seemingly innocent people.  Yes, Hannibal had a rougher than normal childhood, but the way the film kind of idly supports the character’s barbarism is distasteful.  By making him a hero to  sympathize with, HANNIBAL RISING betrays everything the other Lector films achieved.  Those films worked because they knew Lector as inexcusably treacherous and sadistic.  HANNIBAL RISING takes the stance that the character is just a victim.

Some individual moments are unintentionally hilarious.  I particularly loved one scene where one of his victims screams to Lector, “What did I ever do to you,” and he coolly responds, “Besides eating my sister…nothing.”  I also giggled incessantly when Hannibal is forced to save his aunt when she is in the clutches of the enemy (she is literally tied to a chair and licked at one point).  Another howler occurs when he criticizes another victim for using one particular condiment in excess. 

I guess all of this leads to the notion that no director could have saved this ridiculous drivel.  Thomas Harris alone should be put on notice.  He not only penned the novel, but wrote the film screenplay.  Another writer destroying the legacy of one of the great film characters of all-time would be acceptable; but when the source creator himself commits the act, he’s an unpardonable sin.  Harris, if he were smart, would divorce himself from writing any more Lector novels.

Equal parts incredulously funny and overbearingly silly, HANNIBAL RISING demonstrates that the fifth return of Hannibal Lector to the silver screen is one time too many.  With a script that lacks tension and genuine scares (which replaces it with gratuitous gore and carnage), dumb throwaway dialogue, and a limp and hackneyeyed origin story that pitifully tries to humanize a monster, HANNIBAL RISING is an empty and redundant mess of a film.  I am completely Hannibal’ed out and wish to see no further continuation of this character in the movies.  Staring at the screen and asking myself “why” for two hours should never occur while watching a film, but HANNIBAL RISING allows for it.  Watching it reminded me of something a friend once told me - Films are of two varieties: ones that you talk about days after you’ve seen them and ones that you instantly forget about as you leave the theatre and walk to your car. 

HANNIBAL RISING is in the latter category.

www.craigerscinemacorner.com

***  out of  ****

The first two SHREK features and – to a bit of a lesser degree – SHREK THE THIRD were a rare breed of animated film in the sense of their wicked subversiveness.  The first film that launched the lucrative franchise was based on William Steig’s 1990 fairy tale picture book and it was immediate that its sensibilities lied more with adult-oriented jokes and themes.  That is not to say that the first film and its sequel were not glorious and fun-filled family entertainments (far from it), but the main reason I responded so favorably to them was in the way they yearned to go against the grain of typical animated fare.  The SHREK films were cute and cuddly in light-hearted dosages, but beneath that exterior lurked an sarcastic edge to the material.  The first two SHREKS are the first animated films that I recall that had such a strong satiric vein.

Most celebrated animated films before SHREK were almost exclusively from Disney, and the wonderfully wicked thing that SHREK did was to take a lot of the fairy tale conventions of those classic films, appropriate them, and lampoon and mock them with a feverous aggressiveness.  Only in the SHREK films do we have Prince Charming portrayed as a egomaniacal jerk, Sleeping Beauty as a ditsy chick with narcolepsy, Snow White as a Valley-girl-esque sorority babe, the Fairy Godmother as a dangerous and fanatical maternal figure, and Pinocchio as a possessed toy that is filled with loathing self doubt about his ability to tell the truth.  Perhaps my favorite shot that the SHREK films took at Disney was during an opening montage where Shrek himself was accidentally kissing a mermaid that looked amazingly like a certain “little” one, only for her to be picked up by his ogre wife, hurled into the ocean, where Sharks subsequently had her for breakfast.

SHREK THE THIRD is a film that – by purely financial interests – was going to happen whether we accepted the fact or not.  Yet, as a continuation of the storylines presented in SHREK and SHREK 2, this third film that chronicles everyone’s favourite misunderstood green ogre still rouses and pleases.  Perhaps the one thing that hurts the film overall is a sensation of a repetitive formula that was welcome in the first one and taken to hilarious levels in the second.  Make no mistake, SHREK THE THIRD is just as breezy and infectiously funny as the first two films, but while watching it it’s hard not to notice that there are only so many tangents that the series can take this character. 

Shrek has certainly come a long way (he began as a misunderstood and demonized monster that lived in a “vermin-filled” shack that went on to win the love of a princess, met her parents, got hitched, and now is in line for the throne itself).  If anything, Shrek himself is the embodiment of the notion that even lime skinned, hulking creatures that once roamed the forests, like bathing in mud, and enjoy meals of slimy excrement can also have political careers.

SHREK THE THIRD’s overall storyline is not as ambitious and interesting as those in the first few films.  I think that once Shrek married the love of his life, Fiona, and were beginning to live a obligatorial happily ever after existence, there are only so many directions you can take him.  The film’s laugh quotient is still high, but there are many times where sight gags and pratfalls dominate the jokes instead of droll commentary and satiric jabs.  SHREK THE THIRD follows the Shrekian formula innately (that is to say that it takes its existing characters and surrounds them with several parodies of existing fairy tale personalities and infuses all of that in a hip storyline ripe with cultural references and in-jokes). 

Truth be told, there is an undeniable aura of “been there, seen that” while watching SHREK THE THIRD.  It’s seemingly impossible for this film to have the same level of rebellious and guileless freshness with the underlining material.  Yet, more of the jokes in the film work than the ones that don’t and the film is still effortlessly stylish, flamboyantly goofy, and rambunctiously clever.  It may be a bit sweeter at its core than the other two entries, but SHREK THE THIRD still gets a lot of comic mileage out of its smart and sly send-up of classic fairy tales.

The third film essentially continues where the second one left us with Shrek (voiced with funny gusto by Mike Myers) and is ogre bride Fiona (Cameron Diaz) have settled into a life of royal affluency.  Now that things have simmered down for the couple, Fiona begins to whisper the idea of starting a family, which initially is a real buzz-kill to Shrek when they both are flirting in the sack.  Perhaps even more annoying to him is the jabbering of Donkey (voiced by the lively and spirited Eddie Murphy) who gives him wake up calls every morning.  He himself already has a family.  You may recall that he met and fell for a particular female dragon during the course of the first few films.  Well, it seems that the two have consummated their relationship and now are the proud parents of half-breed tykes, which are in the form of little baby flying donkeys with dragon wings.  Thankfully, the film never addresses the psychics behind how the two procreated.  Oh, Puss n’ Boots is also still around (Antonio Banderas) who essentially is a manager of sorts to Shrek and company.  He too has a very productive sex life, as is evident in one dry bit where he tries to say good-bye to all of his former cat lovers.  Puss N’ Boots may be a real swashbuckling feline, but he is undeniably a man-cat-whore.

Before things can get too rosy for the married couple, Shrek and Fiona are whisked away to the deathbed (or, it this case, lily pad) of Fiona’s King Father (John Cleese).  You may recall that the King did have a more humanoid visage in the second film but was changed into a frog by a dastardly spell.  Nevertheless, his Queen wife (voiced again by Julie Andrews) still stands by her man…er…frog.  However, just before the King “croaks”, he reveals to Shrek that he is indeed the heir to his throne…sort of.  It’s either him or another young lad, named Arthur (voiced by Justin Timberlake), who - in pure Shrek-like fashion - is far removed from his standard Arthurian legend and myth and is presented as a pimple-faced high school reject that is ridiculed by his classmates. 

Nevertheless, the King dies suddenly (in a humorous sequence that plays much like classic Monty Python, thanks to Cleese’ delivery) and now Shrek is left with either becoming the rightful heir to the throne of Far, Far Away Land (still presented as a uproariously funny spoof of Disneyland morphed with Beverly Hills), or look for Artie and convince him to become the King he seems destined to be.  Shrek, Donkey, and Puss subsequently go on a trek to Artie’s high school, which emerges in one of the film’s more hilarious sequences as merger of the modern day trappings of an Amy Heckerling school ala FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH with medieval trappings (there is one cute moment where Shrek interrupts two geeks that appear to be playing Dungeons and Dragons).  When Shrek meets up with Artie, he is the victim of social mockery by the school jock, Lancelot.  Begrudgingly, Shrek convinces him to tag along back home, but not before they make a pit stop and hook up with a drunken old hermit named Merlin (voiced by the film’s other Python alumni, Eric Idle) who is not as gifted as he claims to be at sorcery.

Meanwhile, that snobby SOB, Prince Charming (the fiendishly funny Rupert Everett, who steals the show in this film) has really seen his life go down the tubes.  He was once an insurmountably well-to-do prince, but he is now reduced to performing  dinner theatre productions of his exploits (all of this occurs in the film’s opening scene, where the Gingerbread Man and Pinocchio mock him while in the audience).  Well, playing at such nickel n’ dime productions simply does not sit well for Charming, and he decides to align himself up with some witches in order to attack Far, Far Away Land and take what he sees is rightfully his. 

Well, Fiona and her friends don’t take kindly to all of this, maybe because her baby shower with her and Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty (who falls asleep far too often to be healthy) and Snow White (well played by SNL’s Amy Poehler) is crashed by Charming and company.  However, Fiona and her girl-empowered team will not take matters sitting down.  Soon, they become a Medieval Charlie’s Angels squad that starts to open up a can of whoop ass on Charming and company.  Snow White is particularly effective at using her affinity with the creatures of the forest as deadly weapons. 

SHREK THE THIRD may not be the comedic equal of the other films in the series, but it does have two moments that are high points in the franchise for laughs.  Many of the funniest moments include Charming.  There is one scene where he tries to interrogate Pinocchio as to the whereabouts of Shrek, to which the wooden boy engages in a monumentally complex bit of wordplay to (a) not catch himself in a lie and (b) not actually allude to where Shrek is (at one point he states, “Well, uh, I don’t know where he’s not… I’m possibly more or less not definitely rejecting the idea that I undeniably do or do not know where he shouldn’t probably be. If that indeed wasn’t where he isn’t”).  There is also a droll little bit where Charming, in preparation for his grand dinner theatre finale, inadvertently kills several stagehands during one rehearsal. 

There are other equally funny moments with Shrek – of course – during two instances where he is trying to do his royal duties (one grisly moment while he’s trying to knight and man and another where he attempts to send off a royal ship are hilarious).  Perhaps the single funniest moment in the film is at the expense of the Gingerbread Man, who – when death appears near – starts to see his life flash before his eyes.  Oh, even the Queen has one subtle moment of joviality when, in daze, mumbles the words to “My Favourite Things”, which is ironic considering the voice behind the role.

If there is one area where this film more than betters its predecessors than it’s in the visual department.  Having had the advantage of using the latest state-of-the art CGI technology, SHREK THE THIRD is a huge aesthetic quantum leap from the first film in the franchise.  The sheer density of this films visual palette is extraordinary; SHREK THE THIRD may be the finest animated film ever.  With its bright and robust colors, limitlessly detailed scenery, and incredibly nuanced characters (Prince Charming is more creepy than ever because he looks so realistic, and even Shrek feels more visually alive; you can see five o’clock shadow on him in medium shots), SHREK THE THIRD is a monumental achievement in the field of animation.  Even if its jokes don’t work 100 per cent of the time, the film is always endearing and fun to watch.

Most of the nation’s critics have been a bit hard on everyone’s most lovable swamp ogre in the third SHREK outing, perhaps because the film series has been such an unparalleled success (the second film alone is the third highest grossing of all-time).  Yet, the level of worldwide financial success it has attained should not blemish a measure of the film’s worth.  There is no doubt the primary motivation for SHREK THE THIRD was fiscal, but that alone should not discredit it from being another worthy and entertaining entry in the series.  It may not boast a storyline as inspired and wacky as the other films, not to mention that not all of its jokes hit right on target, but SHREK THE THIRD still remains a jovial, feisty, and – most importantly – sly and seditious animated film.  After all, any film that paints Rapunsil as a backstabbing and deceitful bitch is okay in my book.

www.craigerscinemacorner.com

***1/2  out of  ****

There is a very small moment in PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: AT WORLD’S END where Captain Jack Sparrow, played by Johnny Depp, looks around at most of the characters of the film and matter-of-factly asks, “Did no one come to save me just because they missed me?”

It is at this moment where Depp reaffirmed for me a thought that I have had in my mind while watching this third film in the PIRATES trilogy and both that preceded it:

Depp’s Jack Sparrow is a true cinematic original.  No two ways about it. 

There has never been a more eccentric and lovably flamboyant pirate – or adventure hero – to grace the silver screen.  With his slightly inebriated swagger, his slurred, but eloquently spoken speech patterns, and his latently feminine, flailing hand gestures, Captain Sparrow can now be held in high regard with other classic adventure rogues.  Like Connery’s James Bond or Ford’s Indiana Jones, Depp’s Jack Sparrow can now join the upper echelon of memorable on-screen personas of the action genre.  As I said in my review for DEAD MAN’S CHEST, to see Depp play Sparrow is to see an actor have a field day at inhabiting a role.  When he parades around as the androgynously foppish pirate that looks more like a cross between a drag queen and Keith Richards than most on-screen pirates, then you know you’re in the presence of something special and magical.

It is for that reason – and others to be mentioned – why the apparent third and final film in the PIRATES trilogy, AT WORLD’S END, is the most rousing, adventurous, and wickedly entertaining of all the films of the series.  I would go on record that, at times, trilogies are only as good as their third and final films.  Clearly, there is cinematic precedence to prove that many third films never can take claim to be the finest in the trilogy (GODFATHER: PART THREE, BACK TO THE FUTURE III, and – more recently – SPIDER-MAN 3, anyone?), and AT WORLD’S END is certainly not a foolproof and perfect adventure yarn.  It certainly suffers from one of the issues that hurt the overall worth of CURSE OF TE BLACK PEARL and last year’s DEAD MAN’S CHEST (most specifically: a languishing and overly long running time).  When I heard that AT WORLD’S END would clock in at nearly three hours (shiver me timers!) I initially thought that this was the height of indulgent and waterlogged filmmaking. 

Yet, perhaps third time’s a charm, because I oddly felt more forgiving of the running time (which could have been a depressing, watch checking endurance test) of AT WORLD’S END because in it’s case it actually builds to something, in its case a climatic and prolonged 50-60 minute series of action and visual effects set pieces that are among the most amazing I’ve seen as of late.  I was patient as the film slowly built to this crescendo, and when it did I was offered up this summer’s most visually dazzling, robust, and exciting spectacle.  For those that were a bit let down by SPIDER-MAN 3’s lack of intrigue and promise of delivery of something worthy of its previous films, AT WORLD’S END emerges as this season’s big budget blockbuster that wholeheartedly delivers.  Not only that, but it also emerges as the best and most impressively mounted of the PIRATES series, and behind it all is that devilish grin of Captain Sparrow, who journeys back from death itself for one final swashbuckler adventure.

Clocking in at a whale-sized 170 minutes, this PIRATES entry begins precisely where the first one left off.  As shown in the previous film, Captain Sparrow appeared to die at the hand of the monstrous Kraken and seemed forever trapped in the locker of Davy Jones.  The “locker”, as presented, is kind of a state of limbo, a nautical purgatory, where Jack and his ship, The Black Pearl, have been stranded.  Good ol’ Jack himself is as plucky and lively as ever, but he is certainly starting to go a bit cuckoo.  Not only is he talking to himself, but he begins to hallucinate so horribly that he starts seeing countless versions of himself in various states of mental peril.  Jack has never looked so helpless…and kooky.

Meanwhile, we see a recently brought-back-from-the-dead Captain Barbossa (played pitch perfectly again by Geoffrey Rush) who teams up with Will Turner (Orlando Bloom), Elizabeth Swann (the gorgeous-as-ever Kiera Knightly) on a mission to the Orient to get the help of Pirate Captain Sao Feng (the well-cast Chow Yun-Fat).  Their mission is simple…well…not really: travel to the time and place beyond death and rescue the dead Jack Sparrow.  Now, why on Earth would anyone want to capture such a duplicitous and two-faced pirate like Jack?  Well, it appears that they desperately need him so they can attend a gathering of the Nine Lords of the Brethren to mule over the fate and future of piracy in the world (it appears, in a grizzly and effective opening montage, that piracy is dealt with very, very harshly by the Brits).

However, the Brits have a ace up their sleeve.  The evil Lord Cutler Beckett (played with soft spoken and slimy contempt by Tom Hollander) and one of his men, Admiral James Norrington (Jack Davenport) have secured the tentacle-bearded Davy Jones (the wonderful Bill Nighy) and his ship, The Flying Dutchman.  As proven in the previous PIRATES film, Jones’ ship and crew are unlike any on earth.  Jones himself is a hideous octopus-like humanoid and has a crew that’s a relative smorgasbord of aquatic monstrosities, and their ship can literally submerge and re-emerge from the sea.  No other vessel can possible stop it. 

But – alas – Turner, Barbossa, and Swann are able to rescue the imprisoned Jack from the other world and soon make their way to the meeting of the Brethren to decide what to do next.  This meeting kind of reminded me of the cantina sequence in the original STAR WARS where all types of alien life gathered.  In AT WORLD’S END we have all form of pirate from every corner of the planet in attendance to discuss their fate.  There is even a very special overseer that is the gatekeeper of all piracy lore and code.  He is played by – yes – Keith Richards, who looks astonishingly well as a pirate from 400 years ago. Oh, and unless you’ve been living under a rock and are not up to speed with PIRATES news on-line, he also is Jack’s father. Keith’s role is minimal, but surprisingly low-key and effective.  He never hams it up, nor overplays anything, except in one hilarious moment where he reveals the condition of Jack’s mother.

Soon, the film becomes a relative labyrinthin of double crosses upon double crosses and plot twists (you’re never really sure who is good and who is bad in the film, at least until the final act) until we reach a climatic final battle of the seas that pits Davy Jones and the British fleet against Sparrow and company.  There is also a lot of sub plot and exposition about a being called Calypso that was imprisoned by the pirate council and now they need her to help beat the Brits.  Then there is also the story of Will’s father and how he is imprisoned on Jones’ vessel.  And then we have another sub-plot about how Jones became who he was and how he relates to the mystical Tia Dalma (Naomie Harris). And then there is the on-again, off-again relationship between Will and Lizzie…

And so on and so on…

It would be deceptively easy for me to label AT WORLD’S END as overstuffed and wearing out its welcome.  Surly, the film is convoluted and has perhaps a bit too much going on in the story department (oftentimes, I found it kind of difficult to figure out who’s who and how everyone relates to one another; this PIRATES film needs a road map).  There are times were one could easily be straining to make sense of the story more than actually becoming actively engaged in it.  Like THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL and DEAD MAN’S CHEST, AT WORLD’S END is a bit of a frustrating experience in how director Gore Verbinski and the screenwriters overwhelm the narrative a bit too much.  I am still not entirely sure why a pirate movie needs to be nearly 3 hours long.

Nevertheless, AT WORLD’S END does make up for its ponderous narrative in terms of sheer, audience rousing intrigue and action.  The set pieces and visual sights utterly eclipse anything shown in the previous two films and Verbinksi and company have created some of the most seamless and breathtaking combinations of live action and CGI fakery every committed to the screen.  As I discovered with DEAD MAN’S CHEST, I found myself marvelling yet again at Davy Jones, who – like Gollum and Yoda – is a computer generated figure that is so effortlessly submerged within the action of the film.  The temptation with films like this is to overwhelm the viewer with distracting effects, but Jones here is such a nuanced and detailed creature that the effects almost become invisible: he truly looks and feels like a real creature.  This is a credit to the effects team; they certainly have crafted the most realistic CGI creation ever.

The visual effects ingenuity also seems boundless in the film’s climax, where no expense is spared at throwing everything that we have waited two hours for.  In a bravura showcase of wonderfully realized effects, stunt work, and editing, the final hour battle has everything, from sword fighting, to ship-to-ship sea battles, to viscous sea storms that creates a huge swirling hole in the sea itself, to gigantic creatures, etc..  Even if the story to AT WORLD’S END tires viewers, there is no doubt that it is redeemed by the breathless pacing and kinetic battle at the film’s conclusion.  Again, I think that the PIRATES films deserve considerable praise alongside the STAR WARS and LORD OF THE RINGS as being completely immersing on a visual level.  In PIRATES’ case, its fusing of history and fantasy creates an always evocative and thrilling ride.  AT WORLD’S END is never dull to look at.  The creators have crafted a sea-faring universe that is as transfixing and alluring as the galaxies of George Lucas and Middle Earth of J.R.R. Tolkien.

Also appealing is the way the film handles some of its main characters.  Captain Jack, as stated, is always a pleasurably goofy hero who steals every scene he’s in.  It’s amazing how he can command the largest laugh from the most innocuous of line delivery (when they all reach the pirate gathering Barbossa says, “There’s not been a gathering like this ever,” to which Jack adds, “And I owe them all money!”).  Perhaps even more interesting are the characters of Will and Elizabeth.  Will himself and his motivations are never really clearly defined, which makes him a bit more intriguing (he is never a squeaky clean hero in this).  Knightly’s Swann has come an awfully long way in the trilogy and has gone from being a damsel in distress to a powerful and commanding presence on the battlefront.  Even Davy Jones has moments of interest.  There is more scene where he momentarily reverts back to his human form that has a melancholic sadness to it. 

The third film in the PIRATES trilogy, AT WORLD’S END,  still feels the burden of a bloated running time and too many unnecessary story elements.  However, as a slam-bam exercise in swashbuckler derring-do, this “final chapter” in the PIRATES trilogy concludes the series on strong, assured footing.  With thrilling and stirring action scenes, some of the most ingenious and photo-realistic CGI visual effects ever conceived, and – yes – Johnny Depp’s droll and deprecating performance as Captain Jack Sparrow, AT WORLD’S END makes up for its flaws by being this summer’s best, pure popcorn flick.  More than anything, this is the film that proudly holds the trilogy up on its back; it proudly and triumphantly cries out to deserve worthy recognition and comparisons to other classic, out-of-body escapist films.  THE PIRATES films may not be the equals to the STAR WARS and LORD OF THE RINGS sagas, but in terms of their boundless spirit, imagination, and complete command of using landmark technology to tell their stories, they certainly deserve to be considered in the within the same range.  Thankfully, this “final” film in the trilogy does not walk the plank.

www.craigerscinemacorner.com

 

***1/2  out of  ****

A few years ago when my country’s most popular sport - hockey - was stranded in a dreadful lockout that lasted a full season, I began to notice something really interesting: Sports stations, desperate to fill the now vacant hockey game time slots, started to air professional poker tournaments. 

My first reaction to that was, “Geez, how utterly bereft of ideas are these stations when they reduce themselves to airing something as dry and boring as Poker games in place of NHL hockey?”  I mean, the broadcast was essentially static, with six or so players gathered at a table playing the game they know best.  Sure, money was on the line (and huge amounts of it) but poker just did not have the visceral allure of hockey. It did not seem all that exciting.

Then, something changed.  I started to watch poker on TV more and more, so much so that I ended up buying my own poker set to have mini-poker tourneys at home.  My poker game of choice was the same game as shown on the sports broadcasts – Texas Hold ‘Em – and the stakes between my friends and I were usually nothing more monetarily valuable than pride.  The game’s appeal grew insatiable the more I played.  Soon, there could be nothing more exhilarating than getting pocket cowboys in my hand, seeing two ladies on the first flop, and securing my full boat on the river card with a third lady, securing my victory.

If you did not understand a word of what I just wrote, then LUCKY YOU may or may not be the film viewing experience for you. 

Certainly, the film ostensibly is about Texas Hold ‘Em and the crafty and cagey players that play it, not to mention that a certain cursory knowledge of poker is a required to understand many of the scenes in it.  There have been many good to great movies as of late that have used the game in small or large part in their stories (CASINO ROYALE and, to a much bigger degree, ROUNDERS, one of the best of the more recent card-shark films), but LUCKY YOU is a real gem in the sense that it displays an uncanny knack for understanding the game of Hold ‘Em and knowing the subtle psychology of what makes the game exciting to watch.  More than any other film about the “sport”, LUCKY YOU is incredibly spot-on in terms of its presentation.  The film breathes with a real verisimilitude about how the game is played and what it takes to be a great player.  More times often than not, it wisely underlines the fact that the best poker player is often the best judge and reader of character. 

Oh, luck has a lot to do with it too.

Keep in mind, the film is also about the oftentimes-addictive nature of the game and how a climate of obsession can develop around it.  Furthermore, LUCKY YOU impeccably understands that the heart of the real, hard-core gambler is not in tune with winning money (although that’s a definite perk), but more with being a part of the action…the thrill of besting those that claim superiority to you.  In a way, this natural high to achieve victory is as addictive to a gambler as booze is to an alcoholic and it’s that dynamic that makes LUCKY YOU a very insightful and strong character piece.  The game of cards is shown as having larger ramifications beyond winning big pots and claiming dominance; oftentimes, it can affect you and those around you, with equal parts satisfaction and scorn.

The film works so efficiently primarily because of its low key and evocative direction (by Curtis Hanson, who has made such far-ranging and terrific films as 8 MILE, WONDER BOYS, and his multiple Oscar nominated L.A. CONFIDENTIAL) and by its perceptive and well realized script (by Eric Roth, who has penned equally redolent films such as FORREST GUMP and 2005’s masterful MUNICH).  MUNICH in particular demonstrated Roth’s impeccable handling of layered themes and strong characters.  That film probed insightful and fascinating issues, such as is it morally right for a victimized country to seek revenge on another nation that has wronged it, not to mention that it dived deep into the hearts of its character’s addictions.  The personas in that film became plagued by their own inner addictions, so much so that it affected how they felt about themselves and how they interacted with others around them.

LUCKY YOU shares MUNICH’s thoroughly astute command of the wounded psyches of its characters.  Granted, the film is nowhere near as dark in tone as Spielberg’s, nor is it a stunning and vicious exposé on the terrible mindset of the addicted gambler.  Yet, what LUCKY YOU does exceedingly well is showing how characters’ addiction to the game of poker unalterable affects both themselves and how they relate to others around them.  In a way, their lives become one endless, self-absorbed odyssey into one-upmanship.  Meaningful relationships take a back door to the intoxicating draw of how the game of poker makes its players gamble in life as well.

No more is this felt then in one scene in LUCKY YOU in the form of a brilliant prologue where we see Huck Cheever (in a quietly strong and commanding performance by Eric Bana) enter a pawn shop with a boxed digital camera.  He walks over to the shop owner and asks if he can get $300 for it.  She responds with an offer fall less lucrative.  What he then does is fascinating: using all of his cunning and astute powers of charisma and persuasiveness, Huck engages in a ingenious monologue as to why the owner should give him $300.  His reasoning has such a stunning clarity and logic and he engages in a long proof as to how buying his boxed camera would actually improve her business for her other cameras.  Huck, with his good looks, charm, and tactile use of words, provides a very convincing argument, not to mention that he easily could be a poker mastermind.

Huck is, in fact, a wonderfully talented – if not cocky and risk taking – Texas Hold ‘Em player who spends most of his lonely days looking for games here and there and trying to win money any way he can.  He has such a pin-point focus for the game and knows how to read a person with stunning clarity, but he has a real problem with letting his addictive drives lose the money he earns throughout his gambling exploits.  He certainly has guts at the table, willing to bet the farm when he has nothing and knows that his opponent has a flush.  He is not so much driven by the yearning for fame and riches.  Rather, he’s drawn to the game itself and how it can create an atmosphere of dominance over people.

Maybe that has something to do with his father.  He learned everything he knows about poker from his dad playing at the kitchen table as a child for pennies and nickels.  He never was able to beat his dad, nor did his father ever let him win.  That alone fuels his addiction to be better.  The magnetism of gambling fuelled his future life’s purists, leaving very little room for love interests or starting a family.  Poker has engulfed so much of his every day existence that he has pawned off all - and I mean all – of his furniture and most of his most precious keepsakes just to stay in on the Las Vegas action.  His weakness as a player is that he wins considerably, but never knows when to walk away with his money.  He loses a lot too.  His most emotionally wounding loss was always to his father.  The thought of staring him down and beating him, man to man, breeds his desires. 

The father, L.C. (played in one of those fluently strong and powerful performances by Robert Duvall) has always had a contentious relationship with his son.  L.C. left his wife early on in life - something Huck never really forgave him for - and supposedly committed sins against her that Huck will seemingly never forgive.  Huck even has more contempt for dear old dad for who he became.  L.C. is a living legend of the poker world, winning the World Series of Hold ‘Em twice.  He is able to walk into any casino and be flooded with awe and praise.  With his slick backed hair, squinty eyes, and sure-fire quirkiness, Duvall is perfectly cast here as an old, crusty, winner-take-all go-getter.  Nothing would give Huck more pleasure than beating his dad…just once.

Huck himself tries to gather the $10,000 buy-in fee for the next World Series tournament, but seems to fail constantly.  Actually, he is able to secure the money on far too many occasions, only to carelessly lose it when he should have stuck it in his pocket.  Even when he manages to get a deep-pocketed Las Vegas man to bank his entrance fee, he manages to lose it in a matter of hours.  It could be his rebellious edge that attracts Huck to the eyes of a new girl in town, a cute lounge singer named Billie (played with soft spoken appeal by Drew Barrymore). 

Billie is a new gal in town who is not really all that familiar with Huck and his questionable legacy.  She falls for him fast, even at the ill will of her sister (Debra Messing, in a fairly small part).  She initially shares in his enthusiasm for poker and the thrill of the win.  What’s there not to be taken in by?  There is one very amusing sequence where she joins Huck where he takes a bet as to whether he can run three miles and shoot 78 or better in 18 holes in less than three hours for $10,000.  Billie is the timekeeper, but when Huck appears victorious Billie whimpers that the clock says three hours and two seconds.  Huck is furious with the fact that she could not “help him out” and lie.  But Billie is no liar and she begins to harbor bad feelings towards Huck, even more so when he borrows…okay…steals money from her in hopes of making more and then loses it all.  Huck is capable of being a charmer, but his addictive tendencies make him a real dick.

Huck’s daddy is no better.  His partially estranged relationship with his son hits a few roadblocks to recovery, especially in one cold and vindictive scene in a coffee shop where he gambles all of Huck’s money away from him in a pick-up game.  It does not take Nostradamus to see that these two will inevitably play against one another in the World Series in the film’s third act.  That is of no surprise.  Yet, what is surprising is how LUCKY YOU culminates in the big, “final match” (a staple cliché of sports genre films) and does not allow for itself to get trapped in a predictable outcome.  During these moments (which are directed with exacting precision and realism by Hanson; these games feel authentic) the characters grow to understand that the key to salvaging their relationship with one another may not be in beating the other at the table.  I will not spoil what happens, but neither Huck nor L.C. wins or loses.  The result of their head to head game is effective and unexpected.

LUCKY YOU was a film that sat on the studio shelves in a state of limbo for almost a year (its filming culminated almost two years ago), which in itself is a shame because it truly is a wonderfully mounted character piece.  By diving head on into the attractive appeal of high stakes poker and dealing with some of the negative windfall with being obsessed by it, director Curtis Hanson and writer Eric Roth are able to forge a solidly captivating and keenly observant film.  With pitch perfect performances by Robert Duvall and Eric Bana (the former having a field day as a veteran Hold ‘Em player), and a highly realistic presentation of the wildly popular game, LUCKY YOU gets the look and tone of its sporting universe down flawlessly.  More importantly, it manages to be about something more.  It wisely points out how two characters’ growing obsessions with a game can lead to some salvation in each other’s eyes.  In this way, LUCKY YOU is a rare genre film with legitimate morality tale trappings that never feel too saccharine or trite.  As a father/son tale, a love story, and a poker flick out of a fanboy’s dream, LUCKY YOU goes all in and comes out winning.

www.craigerscinemacorner.com

***  out of  ****

THE EX tells kind of a dime-a-dozen story that has been the subject of countless other previous comedies.  It provides for us a young, down-on-his-luck protagonist that engages in an occupational battle of wits with a crafty, cagey, and creepy antagonist, who just so happens to be worshipped and adored by everyone around him.  Of course, the hero is able to discover that this man is really – at his core – a manipulative lunatic, but he’s essentially at his wit’s end trying to prove it to all of his fellow co-workers.

To make matters even worse, the film even adds another juicy layer: the man that the hero wants to reveal to the world as a shameless charlatan actually was a former lover of his wife.  Predictably, the wife still thinks that he is still as straight as an arrow, but the hero knows better. Through a desperate chain of events the bad guy is able to win the affections of the hero’s wife and whenever the hero tries to convince his wife that the man she thinks is okay isn’t, he fails at every turn.  Ultimately, everyone around the hero begins to think that it is he that is mentally unstable, which puts extra pressure on him to finally – once and for all – reveal the villain for the two-faced scam artist that he is.

Again, this overall premise to THE EX has been regurgitated – in one form or another – in other genre films.  It would be easy for me to just right off the film as yet another predictable, whacked-out, undosciplined comedy.  Yet, the film is somewhat saved by the fact that it finds some seriously hilarious, dark laughs from the most macabre and politically incorrect moments.  THE EX is a reasonable success as a black comedy and – as many of similar comedies as of late have failed to – it does not shy away from its more discomforting and tasteless moments.  The film could have very easily been too saccharine to stomach, but because of its sly and wicked script and a very, very droll performance by one if its participants, THE EX manages to not outlive its welcome.  Like some of the better Farrelly Brothers comedies, it finds a nice balance between being sweet and sugarcoated and vile and viscously funny.  The film is not a perfect embodiment of its genre, but it marginally succeeds with it aims,  not to mention the fact that the film is funny, sometimes uproariously so.

The largest individual laughs emerge from the “villain” of the piece.  He is a “cripple” that is paralyzed from the waist down (well…everything is but one vital male appendage), wears snappy and sassy colored dress clothes with a bow tie, and seems remarkably decent, amiable, and charming.  His name is Chip and is universally liked and respected by all of his fellow co-workers and friends.  He seems to be the embodiment of geeky pleasantness. 

Yet, under his outward façade of niceness and camaraderie lurks a twisted soul that is a master manipulator.  He is played in the film in its best and most rousing performance by Jason Bateman.  He has proven in past films and his short-lived, but ridiculously inspired and funny, TV series, ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT, that he can often can generate the biggest laughs by his soft-spoken and underplayed edge.  He’s never big and broad in the film and never lets Chip get reduced down to silly caricature.  Instead, he plays Chip with such a nonchalant level of morbid and hidden hostility that he comes off as even funnier…and creepier.

Alas, for the villain to “work” a comedy like this has to have a hero, and he is played by Zach Braff, who has no problem with this type of comedy (he’s been a staple on TV’s humorous SCRUBS for years now).  His role is not as ostentatiously showy as Bateman’s; he’s essentially the straight man to all of his pratfalls.  What Braff does do effectively is play the part of the uncomfortable misfit that commits one socially awkward atrocity after another.  In essence, he is playing the type of character that Ben Stiller has made a career out of portraying.  Yet, Braff is able to embody in his character some of his effervescent charm and appeal.

He plays Tom Reilly, a young underachiever that seems to not have any clue as to what he wants to do for the rest of his life.  In the beginning of the film he works in a classy restaurant as a chef and hopes to get a big promotion.  Thinks go south really fast when an argument with his boss (played with snarling antagonism by the usually hilarious Paul Rudd) culminates with his spraying condiments all over his Armani suit.  Needless to say, Tom is quickly given the axe, which is not altogether good news to him.  His wife, Sofia (played by the always plucky and attractive Amanda Peet) is nine months pregnant with their first baby.  Before Tom can spill the beans to her, she is rushed to the hospital.  She soon has baby Oliver (who is given his name through a funny set of circumstances), but she leaves the hospital with a grimace when she discovers that he husband – whom she thought would be the main breadwinner of the family – is unemployed.

In a desperate fit, Tom begrudgingly decides that he needs a job and needs it fast and takes a position with Sofia’s father at his advertising firm.  Her dear-old dad, Bob (played by Charles Grodin, a welcome sight after his self-imposed film retirement of 13 years) has had a stand-alone offer for Tom for many years as an “assistant associate creative director.”  Going from cook to ad man seems like an odd career transition for Tom, but he does so in hopes of saving his marriage and family.  He also agrees to move back to Sofia’s hometown in Ohio into a modest house and start his job pronto.  While he does this Sofia tries to make the troubling segue from working in a small law firm to being a stay at home mom.

Bob’s advertising agency is a…well…strange place.  It’s New Agey to the point of incredulous overkill.  People are encouraged to speak openly and candidly and to never, ever apologize for themselves (when someone has done something bad, they don’t verbally apologize, they write it out on a post-it-note).  Bob also likes to throw a metaphorical “motivational ball” that is tossed from one worker to another in ad meetings.  Tom, needless to say, has a bit of a rocky start, but manages to infuse himself into the agencies daily lifestyle pretty easily.

That is…until he meets Chip.

Tom may be an “assistant associate advertising director”, but he is clearly second to his immediate supervisor Chip, who at first comes across as a fairly kind and unassuming wheelchair-bound boss.  Chip amusingly embellishes their relationship with a KARATE KID metaphor (“I am Miyagi, and you’re Ralph Macchio”).   To everyone around the firm, Chip is a chip of the old block; a wonderkid that could do no wrong.  Tim, on the other hand, grows suspicious of his “mentor.”  He, like the audience, just knows that he is not some ordinary paraplegic.

Perhaps it is the way Chip finds roundabout ways of subtly chastising Tom for eating his morning yogurt.  Or maybe it has something to do with the way Chip utterly embarrasses him at a local basketball game with his fellow wheelchair jocks.  Tom, of course, tells Chip that he does not feel comfortable playing in a chair against “real” people with disabilities.  Chip warms him over by saying that it’s perfectly “cool.”  Unfortunately for Tom, he is horrendously ridiculed by all of them when he stands after a game-winning basket.  It does not take a rocket scientist to know that Chip did not allude to Chip that his friends don’t take kindly to non-handicapped people playing in their sport.  As a result, Tom grows increasingly paranoid that Chip is out to get him.

Tom’s spider-sense really goes off when he discovers that Chip was once Sophia’s cheerleading partner in high school and – gasp – actually slept with him.  Maybe it is this that sets off Chip in a dastardly and malevolent plan to backstab and destroy Tom’s credibility with his fellow employees and his wife.  He sees Tom as a lazy underachiever who has married the lust of his life and has now been easily chauffeured into a dream job primarily through family connections.  The guilty pleasure of THE EX is to see Chip engage in his master plan to manipulate Tom for the worse.  He does this by doing not-so-subtle things, like putting gay porn on his work laptop, stealing his advertising ideas, and – most crucially – making Sophia fall back into his arms. 

It’s the dynamic between Chip and Tom that makes the film work, and when the two are on screen they emerge as effective foils to one another.  What’s interesting is the fact that Braff’s Tom is not entirely a “good” and “decent” chap.  Clearly, Chip becomes such a deviant and lecherous SOB that it’s very hard to like him in any way, but Tom is not really that squeaky clean either.  There is a running subplot where he does everything but kidnap a neighborhood boy to help him in a crucial ad campaign he needs to finish.  Perhaps even more crude – and shockingly funny – is when Tom crashes a dinner between Chip, Sophia, and her parents where he grabs Chip out of his wheelchair, drags him up a flight of stairs, and tries to prove that he can walk by throwing him down the stairs.  Chip does not stand, nor does he when he hits the bottom of the stair well.  It is THE EX’s wanton disregard for political correctness that’s one of its more admirable traits.  The film never hides behind Chip’s impairment.  The character himself at one point hilariously tells Chip that he uses it primarily to bed woman, who feel much more sympathetic to “cripples”.

Some of the individual performances are very funny.  Braff has a good time playing Tom as a man of seemingly schizoid-induced rage against Chip.  Charles Grodin has a few extremely humorous moments playing the outwardly warm–hearted and congenial ad boss (one of his funniest moments occurs when he has an altercation with a very hot lamp).  Amanda Peet is okay as the perfunctory wife and Mia Farrow is kind of lost in her trippy role as Peet’s mother.  She is never really exploited for hearty laughs.  The film really is owned by Batmen, who is so effortless in his ability to dial in the ferociousness and sickening aspects of his character with the minimal of effort. 

THE EX most certainly does not approach the high level of other notable black comedies like THE WAR OF THE ROSES in terms of showcasing unlikeable individuals doing appalling things to one another.  The film, at times, has comic lapses and its overall premise has been the product of far too many comedies over the years.  The film has one laugh that does not work to every two that do.  Yet, THE EX is a lot less dumb than many recent comedies and more appealing as well.  It also has some semblance of bawdy, un-PC sight gags that are as hilarious as they are unseemly.  Beyond that, we also have the naturally smirky charisma of Zach Braff working in tandem with the sly and deadpanned delivery of Jason Bateman that helps to elevate the material beyond clichés.  THE EX may not be a faultless, but the laughs outweigh the groans, and its two main leads have a madcap and discreet chemistry.  It has just the right amount of tastelessness and bawdiness with the outlandish material that is able to inspire chuckles and scorn.  I didn’t laugh a lot in THE EX, but I did enough to give it a marginal recommendation.

www.craigerscinemacorner.com

 

*  out of  ****

Diane Keaton has been an adorable and likeable presence in the movies.   She has always been a gifted actress when it comes to walking that delicate middle ground between light comedy and heartfelt drama.  She gave memorable performances in films as far ranging as THE GODFATHER trilogy, ANNIE HALL (still her finest hour), and was even wonderful in recent films like SOMETHING’S GOTTA GIVE.  At times, even when she’s in decidedly awful material, she is able to rise above it and carve out decent work. 

That latter sentiment can’t at all be held in regard to her performance in the new romantic dud, BECAUSE I SAID SO.  Keaton can play broad comedy well, but in the film she is so loud, clumsy, belligerent, over-the-top, and hysterically animated that she could take the Jar Jar Binks Award for “most annoying and overbearing on-screen presence” in recent film history.  BECAUSE I SAID SO is bathed in mediocrity through and through, but it’s even more dissatisfying from the absolutely cringe-inducing work of Keaton, who plays her mother-from-hell persona with such outlandish strokes.  Every time she’s on screen, the film grinds to a halt.  It’s truly embarrassing to see an intelligent and savvy actress play stupid so badly.

Consider one would-be hilarious scene where her character, Daphne, is on-line looking for a date website in hopes to find a suitable man for her socially awkward daughter, Milly (played by the always cute and bubbly Mandy Moore).  She manages to make her way to one site that looks promising, but when she clicks on one of the links, she discovers that – Great Scott – she is on a porn site that also includes bestiality.  She recoils in utter horror and starts screaming at her PC.  He phone rings and its one of her daughters.  She, of course, asks what that noise is in the background.  Ho, ho.  Now, you’d think that Daphne would not be so inanely dumb.  She obviously knows how to use a computer and the Internet.  Why could she not simply close her browser, or restart her computer, or just turn the damn volume off? 

Scenes like this one a ludicrously bad, which are made all the more unpleasant to sit through because of Keaton’s incessant willingness to play her histrionic role as  cartoonishly as possible to achieve laughs.   Everyone else in the film seems fairly grounded in reality.  Daphne is such a overbearing, conniving, and lecherous woman that how anyone in the film – with a brain in their head – would not send her to the loony bin is beyond me.

Daphne is clearly mentally unstable.  Yet, BECAUSE I SAID SO takes great pains to show this woman as someone that – gosh darnit – loves her daughters so much that she would do whatever it takes to get them a worthwhile husband.  Keaton has never been so comedically brittle and flaccid.  She is simply not playing a real, living, and breathing character; she is, in essence, playing a cardboard stereotype.  Never once in the film did I buy Daphne as a real world mother with attachment issues.  Keaton, as stated, can be lovable, but in BECAUSE I SAID SO she is a constant irritant.  At one point she develops laryngitis and can’t speak.  I can’t remember saying to myself “Thank God” more forcefully while watching a plot development.  At least the film answered my prayers of wanting Keaton to shut up for one minute.

The film’s overall premise is wishy-washy and ridiculous.  It begins with introducing us to Daphne, Milly, and the two other daughters, Maggie (Lauren Graham, one of the few actresses here playing things straight) and Mae (Piper Perabo, as gorgeous as ever, but as clueless as ever with her meager and marginalized performance).  Daphne is starting to have serious fears that her third daughter, Milly, will not find a man soon, which in itself is kind of ludicrous.  Milly is a young babe who should have no problem finding Mr. Right.  Alas, in this film’s Idiot Plot-inspired universe, gorgeous and readily available twenty-something women have a difficult time securing dates. 

Yup.  Sure.  Uh-huh.

Being the quintessential meddling mother, Daphne decides to take matters into her own hands.  She decides to run an Internet classified ad seeking a “life-mate” for Milly, but – of course – Milly has no clue about this at all, which will likely payoff later with some silly and moronic finding-out-scene.  Amazingly, Daphne is able to have many “interviews” with several prospective candidates.  This montage where she meets and greets all the men is supposed to be funny, but it ends up being kind of…well…creepy.  Yet, in this film’s universe, it’s knee-slappingly funny to see a mother try to prostitute her daughter out to any anonymous stranger.  Most of the men are categorically weird, but they are a few worthwhile prospects.  Yet, why would other handsome and available suitors respond to the ad?  Surely, they should not have to reduce themselves to these levels?

However, fate checks in when a wealthy and successful architect named Jason (Tom Everett Scott) swoops in.  She is the man of Daphne’s dreams, who she hopes will be the man of Milly’s dreams.  Jason seems likeable, good-looking, and is rich, so Daphne convinces him to ask her daughter out.  Jason does ask Milly out and the two start dating and hitting it off.  However, there is an anomaly in Daphne’s plan when a hunky musician named Johnny (Gabriel Maccht) also tries to score a date with her.  He does not do so via the Internet ad, but rather tries it his own way.  Amazingly, he too starts a winning relationship with Milly.

Now, here is where the film gets really lame brained and predictable.  Milly, as played by Moore, is such a sweet and innocent presence that she has no motivation whatsoever to date two appealing men at the same time.  Her character does not display the type of disloyal and false facades that would be needed to date multiple men at the same time.  She is – at face value – too amiable and kindly of a woman to commit such acts.  Yet, in the film Milly is reduced to a unlikeable tart.  She sees both men, lets them on, and manages to sleep with both of them while lying to both about the other.  Clearly, Daphne’s plan to get her daughter to hit it off with a man is unsavory, but there is something disheartening and vile about what Milly does as well.  There is a hidden and disquieting cruelty to it.

There is another problem with the film and that is primarily when it comes to the two male leads in Milly’s life.  The film is on clichéd and romantic auto-pilot in terms of going out of its way to make one of them the more appropriate knight in shining armor for Milly.  Jason, for example, seems like a very affable and well-meaning person, as does Johnny.  But, Jason is rich (meaning arrogant and snobby) and Johnny is lower-middle class (meaning kind and understanding), and he has a troublesome little brat of a child.  Jason, on the other hand, gets a bit snarky when Milly accidentally brakes a precious family heirloom.  This scene rings manipulatively because it begs the audience to side with Johnny.  When something similar happens with Johnny, he shrugs it off.  Well, Clearly we should want Milly to side with him…right?  From all perspectives, Jason seems to be the most worthwhile presence in Milly’s life, but the screenplay willfully abandons him to concentrate on Milly getting Johnny.  Also, we are given that obligatorical moment where Johnny finds out about Jason, where he rightfully dumps Milly’s behind.  I am not sure why he would later try to get her back.  Milly is, after all, a deceitful liar.

If the overall premise of the film is weak and mishandled, then the film’s laugh quotient is also seriously lacking.  BECAUSE I SAID SO was directed by Michael Lehmann,  who made the ingeniously funny 40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS about a young swinger that gives up sex and woman for Lent.  He also made HEATHERS way, way back in 1989, still one of the darkest and funniest high school black comedies of the 1980’s.  His approach to the material in BECAUSE I SAID SO seems flat and uninspired.  Perhaps the film could have worked much better if he made it a viciously macabre black comedy, which would have made Keaton’s performance more tolerable, not to mention her motivation in her scheme.  So many scenes lack any laughs at all, as is the case with an early moment where Daphne gets man-handled while getting a massage, or when she gets a cake in the face (you can see that from a proverbial mile away) or when she and Milly have a frank discussion about what orgasms feel like.  Honestly, I can’t speak for all women out there, but when was the last time you tried to re-enact what an orgasm felt like to your mother?

BECAUSE I SAID SO commits comedic atrocities of not being funny and having a gimmicky plot that is rife with incredulous disdain for its characters.  The film is a woefully derivative, intellectually sour,  shamelessly manipulative, and an abysmally bad chick flick which contains a shockingly terrible performance by Diane Keaton, whose presence is akin to fingernails on a chalkboard.  BECAUSE I SAID SO is a disastrous comedy that is dead on arrival.  Very rarely has a genre film like this been so utterly bereft of comic inspiration and believable and likeable characters.  It’s appalling to see gifted actresses scrape the bottom of the barrel for inspiration and laughs.  Keaton not only scrapes the bowl, but licks it clean.

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30th Anniversary RETROSPECTIVE REVIEW

****  out of  ****

“If you were to take STAR WARS away, out of film history….you would just be seeing a whole different landscape of entertainment over the last thirty years.”

- director Peter Jackson

To quote its full title, STAR WARS: EPISODE IV – A NEW HOPE was perhaps the first film that I recall seeing that truly transported me.  I have seen it countless times (50…perhaps 100 times…perhaps more), but the one prevailing characteristic that it has is its ability to defy what it means to simply watch a movie.  STAR WARS, in retrospect, can hardly been seen in simple definitions as a popcorn flick.  This film – no matter how many times one views it – is an experience.  It’s one of the few transcending escapist films that works by working on us.

That’s what George Lucas’ space fantasy – easily the greatest of its genre in the history of the medium – means to me.  While viewing it – either in a cinema with hundreds of spectators or in a more intimate setting at home – STAR WARS still remains one of the most timeless classics of cinema.  The film has universal recognition for its gigantic financial success and the multi-billion dollar merchandise empire that turned a thirty-something, novice filmmaker from Modesto, California into one of the most powerful figures in the film world.  Yet, there is certainly more to the film’s success.

Surely, one of the film’s most long-standing legacies is that it changed to how films are seen (in its case – as hugely profitable commodities that can make money).  Less superficially, those pundits that lay those legacy claims on the 1977 space opera forget its more notable and subtle donation to the film world: it fundamentally changed movies – artistically – for the last quarter of a century.  Lucas has come under strong scrutiny for his aesthetic choices over the last decade, but there should be no denying his place on a very short list of cinematic pioneers.

STAR WARS is not just a science fiction/fantasy film; it was a watershed work in the annals of the film world.  Like other pioneering films like THE BIRTH OF A NATION, THE JAZZ SINGER, BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN, and CITIZEN KANE, STAR WARS reinvented the modern movie and forever changed the film industry.   The other films previously mentioned have nothing really in common with Lucas’, other than the fact that they altered the aesthetic landscape of the cinema, in terms of film grammar (like editing and storytelling) to technically milestones (like - in THE JAZZ SINGER’S case - sound in the movies).  STAR WARS, like those works, came at a crucial time in film history when the medium became ripe for new ways of telling age-old stories.  By taping into ancient and familiar thematic archetypes of the past, Lucas was able to appropriate them and spin his own narrative by using state-of-the-art technology, which – up to that time - was absolutely unheard of.  That’s why the film was so fresh in the late 70’s; no one had ever seen anything quite like it.

Before STAR WARS, George Lucas was a USC graduate and a struggling independent filmmaker.  Mentored by Francis Ford Coppola, Lucas would see his first taste of the mainstream film world when he released his first major feature, 1970’s TXH-1138, a science fiction morality tale set in an oppressive, Orwellian future.  The film was a bold and impressive achievement, but was a spectacular flop at the box office.  From there he went on to making something more audience friendly, 1973’s sublime coming of age comedy AMERICAN GRAFFITI.   That film was hugely successful - from a critical and financial perspective - and it was during the making of that multiple Oscar nominated film that Lucas’ idea of making an old fashioned epic started to germinate.

He had the idea for what would be STAR WARS as early as 1972 and labored for years developing a script.  Trying to sell is as a blend of Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers, Captain Blood, and the B-grade, adventure serials that he worshiped as a child, Lucas attempted to make a new, modern fairy tale with elements people remembered from the past.  By trying to forge a new-age film mythology for the viewing audiences, Lucas’ aims for making STAR WARS were in direct opposition to what he saw were dying, old fashioned values of good and evil in the movies. 

The 1970’s – a relative Golden Age of the cinema in terms of worth – were a time when gritty, urban, and personalized violent films like MEAN STREETS, THE FRENCH CONNECTION, CHINATOWN, and TAXI DRIVER were the norm.  These films – despite being great in their own right – were downbeat to their core and Lucas saw this.  He wanted a film to combat the growing cinematic and social nihilism of the time.  He keenly believed that what downtrodden people of the decade craved for was a bit of escapism.  In short, he wished to transport viewers to an imaginary world fuelled with traditional Hollywood staples of valor and heroism.

Before STAR WARS came out, ancient myths seemed out of the everyday subconscious.  The economy was suffering, the Vietnam conflict left Americans disillusioned, and scandals like Watergate made the population fearful and distrusting of leaders.  This was a culture that needed something new, and along came STAR WARS in 1977 to provide that new life into the movies (as a 1977 Variety review wisely pointed out, it was “like a breath of fresh air”).

Upon reflection, it is not entirely hard to understand why STAR WARS would go on to be one of the highest grossing films of all-time.  Yet, the film opened on only 32 American cinemas, which is miniscule compared to modern openings, which play on several thousand.  When it opened on May 25, 1977 it grossed a then amazing $254,309 and – within eight weeks – it grossed $44 million.  It would go on to dethrone JAWS as the biggest grossing film ever (it would hold that position until 1997’s TITANIC).  Prior to the release of this movie, the greatest profit 20th Century Fox – the movie’s exhibitor - had ever made in one year was $37,000,000.  In 1977- and because of the film - their year-end profit was $79,000,000.  Ironically, studio pundits thought the other film opening that week – SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT - would pulverize the film.  STAR WARS went on to nearly double that film’s grosses.  Within three weeks of the its release, 20th Century Fox’s stock price doubled to a record high.

Not bad for a film whose genre was box office poison in the 70’s, that had no big name stars, that had a director that had no faith in its future success, and that had a low budget of only $11 million.

STAR WARS redefined the blockbuster film and seemingly all other summer films that have been released to this day have tried to duplicate its success.  It targeted a once neglected demographic – youth and adolescents, a group that most modern summer films seek out today– and was one of the few films that tried to understand its demographic.  Lucas specifically targeted his new pop-mythology to the audience he believed the film would attract the most.  There have been other blockbusters pre-STAR WARS, but the film fundamentally changed the Hollywood perception of what made a hit film.  Every studio today has tried to capture the STAR WARS lightening in a bottle twice, so to speak.  Its numbers are remarkable, even to modern scrutiny.  In 1977 one in twenty filmgoers saw the film two or more times.

The film – originally entitled THE STAR WARS – began modestly with a 14-page treatment that seemingly every studio passed on.  After years of writing, a 200-plus-page screenplay was developed (the first third primarily being the first STAR WARS, the two other sections would later be devoted to two other sequels).  One sympathetic ear was Alan Ladd Jr., who was so impressed with AMERICAN GRAFFITI that he trusted Lucas with his new fantasy.  The movie was given the green light with a puny $8 million budget and Lucas himself was paid equally little.  However, he opted for a deal which can be seen now as the most lucrative and shrewd contract in film history: he asked for $175,000 to make the film, but only if he had exclusive merchandise and sequel rights.

The actual making of the future epic was anything but pleasurable.  Lucas himself labored for months trying to assemble cast (familiar stars like Nick Notle, Al Pacino, Burt Reynolds, James Cann, Kurt Russell turned parts down) and he cast three unknowns, Harrison Ford (who was in GRAFFITI, but went back to his old carpentry job after), Mark Hamill, and Carrie Fisher.  This displeased studio brass.  Once his controversial cast was assembled, Lucas launched a grueling production that took the crew from Africa to London and back to the States. 

The making of the film was plagued with issues.  Countless setbacks made it pushed back from its initial release date of Christmas 1976 to summer of 1977.  There were problems with shooting, editing, and – ironically – the special effects crew, which would go on to win Oscar for the landmark visuals in the film.  Realizing that old effects techniques could never, ever be used for his vision for the film, Lucas launched Industrial Light and Magic, which would become of the most influential and important effects houses in the world.  Their beginnings were not void of problems.  When Lucas returned from shooting in London ILM spent $5 million of the $8 million on effects without any usable footage.  Lucas became so ill that he checked himself into a hospital after suffering from hypertension and vowed never to direct a film again (he would return over twenty years later to helm EPISODE I of the STAR WARS sextet).

Considering its mammoth production woes, it almost could be considered a miracle that STAR WARS emerged as one of the greatest films of the 70’s, if not all-time.  Perhaps it was how Lucas was able to tell age-old stories and myths and make them feel simultaneously new and familiar.  The film is a gloriously mounted, 1930’s adventure serial come to life, which makes viewers hearken back to the simplistic and bold stories of Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers, not to mention echoing classic myths of the past.  Previous films also influenced STAR WARS (the works of Akira Kurosawa and John Ford, to name a few) in how STAR WARS felt.  By combining elements of these stories with breakthrough, 20th Century technology, Lucas changed the cinema irrevocably, even if - at the time - he never thought he was.

The story itself has simple and defined touches and does not have any real areas of grey (it is a simple black and white story of good versus evil set against the backdrop of space).  Reiterating his desire for the film to feel like a fairy tale, Lucas began the story with the words, “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….” This is crucial to the film’s success: it gives it a gravitas and grandeur.  Soon, we are thrown right smack dab in the middle of the action (Lucas wisely does not waste time with useless expository scenes; he throws us into the world).  Again, this is key to the film feeling like a true out-of-body experience.  Wasting time of intros would be tedious; thrusting us in without explanation allows the movie’s magic to engulf us. 

We meet two lovable, but bickering, robots, C-3PO (Anthony Daniels) and R2-D2 (Kenny Baker) who find themselves knee deep in the middle of a Galactic War.  The evil Empire, led by Lord Darth Vader (physically played by David Prowse and voiced by James Earl Jones; still one of the great, enigmatic  villains of the movies) wages war against a small band of Rebellious freedom fighters led by Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher).  The Empire has developed a space station, The Death Star, capable of destroying an entire planet, but that pesky Leia has its technical plans.  She hides them on one of the droids – with a message – and the droids escape to a nearby desert planet.

Eventually, they hook up with a teenage farm boy named Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) whose Uncle purchases their services.  Soon, the message makes its way to Luke, who later brings it to the attention of a strange old wizard-like hermit named Obi-Wan Kenobi (played memorably by Alec Guinness).  Soon, the group hooks up with a space pirate Han Solo (Harrison Ford) his gigantic, furry co-pilot Chewbacca (Peter Mayhew) and engage on a rescue mission of sorts to free the Princess while on board the huge space station.  The heroes – in fitting, cliff-hanger style manner – narrowly escape the station, regroup with the Rebels, and plan to mount an attack on The Death Star before all is too late.

The smartest thing Lucas did with STAR WARS is to tell it with broad and universal strokes.  Inspired by the works of author Joseph Campbell, Lucas tells STAR WARS as part of a “hero’s journey” – we have the resourceful hero faced with adversity who must grow to understand the evil in the world in order to confront it.  Again, these themes are as old as fiction itself, and this is what makes Lucas’s world feel so lived in and real.  Most ancient myths have familiar strands through and through, and STAR WARS is no exception.

The film’s art direction also contributes to this.  Using virtuoso set and costume design, STAR WARS has a lush, epic feel that films three times its budget fail to have.  There are cheerful and sly nods to famous films (C3P0 is a direct descendent of the robot from METROPOLIS); Han Solo dresses like a western gunslinger; Darth Vader looks like a dark, Samurai warrior; the Empire’s men dress in Nazi-like fatigues, and so forth.  All of this is done so impeccably to sell the universe of this film.  We’ve seen subtle examples of the film’s style before, but just never in the way STAR WARS presents it to us. 

The visual effects, of course, only contribute to Lucas’ limitless vision.  It’s so deceptively easy to take them for granted today.  Yet, what should be taken into consideration is the magic and pageantry of how new and exciting those effects were to untamed eyes in the late 70’s.  There were large scale, immaculate effects in films before (Kubrick’s 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY, to be exact), but never in the history of the movies had effects taken such a quantum leap in terms of scope and quality.  Every little nuance felt real in STAR WARS, from the rusted out and lived in space ships to odd, alien-occupied taverns, to the aerial dog fights between the good guys and bad guys in space.  There is something happening at every corner of every frame in the film.  The sheer density of the STAR WARS universe is astounding.  If anything, the visuals of the film exploded what was then impossible to be achieved.  It ushered in new ways of visualizing and editing stories.  By effectively combining a new, kinetic style with sharp direction, bombastic sound, and stupendous music (provided by John Williams, in one if the greatest, most recognizable soundtracks ever), Lucas created a new visual language for the art form.

There are simply too many memorable moments to mention.  There’s the sight of the two troubled and beguiled droids against the backdrop of a desert landscape (an ode to David Lean); a scene where Vader’s evil minions battle it out with rebel forces with their blaster pistols; Han Solo’s ship first docking with the mammoth Death Star; the laser sword battle between Vader and Kenobi…one could go on indefinitely.  Some of the other moments have kind of an ethereal and quietly passionate strength, like when Luke poignantly stars out to a double, twin sunset to ponder his life or when he races home to find his family dead.  Those small moments have real power too. 

Then again, nothing got people out of their seats more than the film’s opening shot – arguably the most sensational and awesome ever – with Vader’s ship – miles long – racing towards Leia’s smaller rebel freighter.  The camera pans down to the planet, we see the Princess’ ship fly past and then the immeasurably long visage of Vader’s Star Destroyer pass overhead in a shot that goes on forever.  Once that opening shot occurs, you are in Lucas’ universe, not to be let back into your earthly world until the final credits role.  The film grabs you within the first few seconds and never lets go.

If anything can be said of STAR WARS it’s that never before had special effects been more effectively intertwined with good storytelling.  It could very easily be established that without STAR WARS, Lucas, and ILM then the last 30 years of effects heavy films would never have been made.  STAR WARS gave legitimacy to a once dormant genre – science fiction and fantasy – but it also laid the path to other high-octane films with million dollar visuals to be produced.  Many modern blockbusters, from STAR TREK: THE  MOTION PICTURE, THE INDIANA JONES TRILOGY, THE MATRIX TRILOGY, THE ABYSS, JURASSIC PARK, TERMINATOR series, and – yes – THE LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY may not have existed if it were not for STAR WARS.  People may be quick to point out that Tolkien’s books existed long before Lucas’ film fantasy, but it was the stunning advancements in filmmaking that occurred with STAR WARS that made filming THE LORD OF THE RINGS possible.  No other single film has been as technically influential as STAR WARS.

There is no doubt that the film changed Hollywood, but did it do it for the better?  Some industry analysts and historians point out that the unparalleled success of STAR WARS spawned hundreds of inferior copycats where characters and story were second fiddle to mindless action and effects.  That is true to a degree, but one could hardly fault the film alone for contributing to the intellectual bankruptcy of modern movies.  It did not directly cause witless, inane, adolescent-inspired fare for the future.  Yes, the movie ushered in an unprecedented new kind of fantastical action film that was exploited by the studios.  Many films today are seen as marketable commodities and not art forms.  Yet, these critics fail to see what STAR WARS really is at its core: a powerful and expertly crafted piece of escapism and entertainment that can be appreciated on a level of technical art and enjoyment.  Because the film transcended the business does not preclude that it wrecked the it in the future.

Critics of the time were very kind to STAR WARS.  Time magazine hailed it as the film of 1977 and the Academy awarded the film with multiple Oscar wins,  most often in the technical categories, along with nominations for Best Screenplay and Best Direction for Lucas.  Despite the fact that STAR WARS lost the Best Picture statue to Woody Allen’s romantic comedy ANNIE HALL, 1977 was the year of STAR WARS.  By year’s end it was the most loved and financially successful film of all-time and within a few years it would spawn two sequels, 1981’s THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK and RETURN OF THE JEDI. 

By 1989 the film was honored as one of the first 25 films to be inducted into the National Film Registry for works of a cultural and social significance.  Lucas would re-visit the first three films with effects enhancements and remasterd picture and sound with the release of the Special Editions in 1997, in conjunction with the first film’s 20th anniversary.  By the end of the 90’s through to 2005, Lucas would return to make the “prequel trilogy” to enormous – if not slightly incredulous and obsessively critical – fanfare.  No matter how one feels about the worth of the STAR WARS prequels, they nevertheless proved with their release that the series was still one of the largest and most endearing mythologies of the last hundred years.  No too many films have achieved such universal notoriety and status.

Some critics comment that revisiting films of yesteryear is like going into time machines and journeying into the nostalgic past.  I don’t think that’s an apt descriptor of the visceral and longstanding allure of George Lucas’ original STAR WARS.  Like all “classic” films of Hollywood, this space fantasy still remains a timeless experience.  The world and universe of Lucas’ film feels as vibrant, detailed, and unsullied as ever.  The out-of-body sensation that STAR WARS created in viewers will never waiver.  It’s a pure and unpretentious exercise in escapism at its essence and a work for audiences to live vicariously through, as if the events on screen where happening to them.  The film paved the way for a generation of future films – it ushered in new audience demographics; it revolutionized film visual effects and sound; it dramatically changed movie marketing and merchandising; and it created a new type of film going experience.  STAR WARS is not just a film; it is an event, a phenomenon, and a pop-culture icon.  It is - as Lucas initially envisioned - a modern fairy tale that reinforces noble, old-fashioned values for children of all ages; a new myth for people tired of societal cynicism. 

It’s also a masterpiece…for sure.

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