Shame (2011)
VERDICT:
6/10 One-Track Minds
Sex is one hell of a drug.
Shame is about a single, successful businessman living in New York City who keeps up appearances as a model human being to everyone who knows him. But behind closed doors, he’s a bonafide sex addict whose life has been all but consumed by his constant carnal cravings. Up until now, he’s done a bang-up job of keeping things under wraps, but then his sister shows up unannounced, moves onto his couch, and begins complicating things with his horny boss. Unable to kick her to the curb since she has nowhere else to go, our closet nympho finds his philandering ways increasingly challenged by the needs of the only family he has left.
And so marks my very first NC-17 theatergoing experience. Even got carded and everything. It’s not that I’ve been actively avoiding NC-17 movies since I turned the big one-eight, they’ve just they’ve never been all that easy to find. Call me crazy, but I’m guessing that’s because the rating’s considered a scarlet letter for any studio looking to make a buck, and I also happen to live in a country that’s more freaked out by the birds and the bees than good old-fashioned torture porn. With that being said, thank God for writer/director Steve McQueen’s insistence on breaking out the birthday suits, going for the gusto, and making the movie he wanted to make. In a world where it’s easier to just make the masses happy by sugarcoating the naughty parts, it takes balls to make a movie like this. Then again, we’re all adults here, it’s not like we’re meeting up with Larry Flynt to go watch Deep Throat 2000, and let’s not kid ourselves, we can handle it.
Nevertheless, when you see a movie like this, you expect things to get a little awkward, and while the one guy who walked out halfway through would probably disagree with me, the experience went smoother than planned. Don’t get me wrong, Fassbender’s fassbender is on full display here and when he starts getting down to business, McQueen doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. But by the same token, it’s tasteful, it’s purposeful, and it works because it’s bold. Although at the risk of sounding like the real-life inspiration for this movie, I couldn’t shake the feeling that McQueen was holding back punches. It begins aggressively and eventually spirals downward on the same wave, but as much as I can praise this movie for the things it does well, the lasting impression I was left with was how confused and unfocused it felt. Whether it’s the various plot elements and characters that seem initially vital to the story yet fizzle out half-an-hour later never to be addressed again, or the semblance of a plot that’s ultimately fueled by one melodramatic, predictable turn after another, I kept finding less things to like and more things to be bothered by.
It’s not that I was disappointed and it’s not that I’m against movies that don’t spell everything out for me each step of the way, I think it has more to do with my reaction to McQueen’s first film, Hunger. If you haven’t seen it, Hunger is one of those movies that’s as easy to appreciate as it is tough to handle. McQueen uses a lot of the same techniques here, like placing a heavy emphasis on words unspoken and lengthy stationary shots of two people talking or someone performing a seemingly mundane action that most directors would opt to cut away from. In Hunger, these signatures added an extraordinary amount of gravity to the finished product and made for some of the most memorable moments a movie that was filled to the brim with them, but I didn’t get that with Shame. I wish he had cut away from Carey Mulligan singing her entire sad bastard version of “New York, New York,” I wish he had cut away from Fassbender going for a jog across half of Manhattan after being sexiled from his apartment, and I really wish there hadn’t been so much damn laughter in the audience.
My problem wasn’t so much listening to everyone laugh when Fassbender’s character, Brandon, was being funny, it was when everyone else in the movie tried their hands at comic relief that struck a nerve. Brandon can pull off being the comedian because it betrays his true colors and makes you like him despite his faults, but as soon as random waiters start making awkward jokes about wine and everyone around me starts busting a gut, it throws the tone clear off the tracks. That one’s as much a fault of the audience as it was the film maker, but it took away from something that should have stayed serious.
And then there’s Michael Fassbender, and he’s just as great as he’s always been. Like I said, the guy doesn’t hold anything back from a physical standpoint (let’s just get it out of the way: the dude is packing,) but the same is true in respect to how emotionally vulnerable his performance is. Brandon is a complex guy, and in true Steve McQueen form, his actions – or lack thereof – speak far louder than anything that comes out of his mouth. He’s like Patrick Bateman in the sense of his being trapped by his own demons, unable to get out no matter how hard he tries in one direction or other, only his weapons of choice are an endless supply condoms and a black belt in the art of eye-fucking. I love that about his character and how this tortured soul living in a personal prison is the driving force of the story. We’ve seen our fair share of hopeless junkies and bloodthirsty madmen, but sex addicts are news. The nice thing is that this is probably the role that’ll put him on the map he should have been on three years ago for his turn in Hunger, the bummer is that it’s taken this long for the public to wise up. Just as it takes balls to make a movie like this, it takes arguably even bigger ones to be in a movie like this.
And Carey Mulligan’s also good in a lot of the same ways as his sister, Sissy. Fassbender is a hard act to follow is all.
Look, I liked Shame and I was awfully close to giving it a 7. It’s a very interesting perspective on addiction, I wish more film makers could muster up the courage to make sexually charged, important movies like this, and it also happens to have a fantastic little score to back up McQueen’s skills with the camera. I won’t argue with anyone who would rank it higher, it just didn’t do much for me from an emotional standpoint and felt all too familiar for something so brazen. But at least I came away with a decent story from the experience…
In a successful effort to lighten the mood once the movie ended, my friend leaned over and asked us, “So I take it that was just like The Muppets?” Naturally, laughter ensued. As we started to leave the aisle a few seconds later, a woman behind us (who either didn’t hear the joke or wasn’t a fan of ours to begin with) asked her male companion, “Why were they laughing?” Because buzzkills travel in pairs, he proceeded to raise his voice and responded, “They’re probably a bunch of 19-year-olds who are too uncomfortable with their own sexuality to be mature about the movie.” Being in a state of disbelief that someone would indirectly call me out from six inches away as though I were Casper, the Horribly Immature and Generally Loathsome Ghost, I decided to let it slide. But as fate would have it, he happened to walk right by us just minutes later as I relayed the story to my friends who didn’t hear it first-hand and we all laughed at his epically snooty comment as he hung his head in shame. An unintentional revenge is better than no revenge at all.
Freakin’ New Yorkers, man.
In the battle of Newman vs. Redford, the victor is..
PAUL NEWMAN!
Both have the looks, both have the movies, both have Oscars, and both are some of the biggest badasses that ever graced this fine Earth. Then again, only one has a drinking holiday named after him and a life that was devoted to charity work. Against any other man, I think Redford would have won this one, but it’s pretty much impossible to live up to Newman.
Swell voting, folks.
RESULTS:
– Paul Newman: 25 votes
– Robert Redford: 7 votes
Hugo (2011)
VERDICT:
8/10 Steampunk Fairy Tales
Not too shabby for Marty’s first stab at PG.
Hugo is about the orphaned son of a clockmaker in 1930s Paris who lives inside the walls of a train station. When he’s not winding the clocks and dodging the evil station inspector, the boys spends his days stealing mechanical parts from a local toymaker in order to repair a broken automaton – the one possession his late father left behind. Eventually the toymaker catches him red-handed and takes the boy on as his apprentice in exchange for the automaton’s blueprints. The more time the boy spends with the toymaker and his goddaughter, the closer he gets to unlocking the mystery of his father’s machine that leads him on an adventure of a lifetime.
Man, it’s been a really long time since I saw a Martin Scorsese movie that I liked. Still think the last half-hour of The Departed is bullshit, still think the last half-hour of Gangs of New York is bullshit, still not nuts about Shutter Island, and I still haven’t seen The Aviator since all I ever hear about is how many jars Leo gets to pee into. Not counting his documentaries, I think the last Scorsese movie I really dug was Bringing out the Dead. It’s not like the other movies were garbage, but that’s not much of a track record. So my first reaction to Marty taking on family fun in the third dimension was that the man had nuked the fridge. For a guy who’s best known for how many people he’s had whacked on camera, this didn’t seem like the most natural transition. But by the time it was all over, it seemed like a movie he’d been wanting to make for ever.
Not to give anything away, but what this movie starts out as is a far stretch from what it ends up being. When it begins, there are a number of things you’ll pick up on. You’ll realize that no one really talks for the first ten minutes of the movie and that everything you need to know is shown to you from a quiet distance. You’ll realize that there’s a lot to look at and all of it is pretty darn gorgeous. And you might just realize that this kind of movie with this kind of scale hasn’t been made in a long, long time. These things might fall to the wayside as you focus on what this movie’s about, but in time, you’ll come to realize that they’re exactly what this movie’s about.
What makes Hugo special and makes it more than just a fun adventure with eyegasms to spare is that, at its core, it’s a love letter from Martin Scorsese to the movies he grew up with. The difference between Marty and I (and I’m pretty sure this is the only difference) is that people still remember the movies I grew up with whereas people have forgotten his. Without jumping too far into an entirely separate review, I can’t help but be surprised at the way The Artist has been gaining so much attention as of late in a world where silent films are generally regarded as box office poison. That’s in no way a reflection on The Artist as it is on the moviegoing world we live in, a world where the next best thing is always bigger, louder, and dropkicking the “MUTE” button. For chrissakes, over the course of nearly 600 reviews, I still haven’t covered a silent film, and what’s worse, the only one I’ve ever seen is City Lights. Unfortunately, I’m part of the majority that has forgotten, and that’s a big reason why this movie resonates.
The whole thing is just magical, much in the way that A Trip to the Moon must have been for Marty the first time he saw it. Hugo’s world is one of living parts, one that lets out so much steam from every orifice you’d think the sewers of Paris were a lake of fire, one that would fall to pieces if just one of its countless cogs stopped turning. From one scene to the next, the set pieces are truly something to behold and are as integral to film as any of its characters. A lot of effort and creativity went into this movie, and there’s not a moment where it looks like Marty was cutting corners. I happened to see it in 3D, and while I don’t think it’s a requirement by any means to follow suit, it was a brilliant way to connect today’s technological advancements in film with the way people once reacted to the dawn of the medium.
So it’s pretty as sin, but then there’s the script. Now, as a writer’s rule of thumb, people tell you to “write what you know.” Writer John Logan could have very easily made this story about a boy who loves movies and use that as a way to remind audiences of these films that time forgot, but the fact that he doesn’t is something that really paid off for him. I really liked the way it kicks off as this Dickensian throwback about a boy just hanging onto the memory of his father and gradually evolves into this multi-layered puzzle that only gets more engaging with each new piece that falls into place. It’s as though Logan and Marty inserted themselves into the character of Hugo and took him on all of their favorite movie moments from when they were his age, and it’s as unexpected as it is fun. It’s not a flawless approach by any means and they could have afforded to trim the fat in some areas (am I the only one who hates dream-within-a-dream sequences?), but there’s something very inspired about honoring the movies you love by turning your movie into one.
And as a movie nerd who’s always wanted an excuse to get into the silent era, I owe Hugo one. From the automaton’s striking resemblance to Fritz Lang’s Maria, to the scene on the poster that screams of Harold Lloyd, there’s something awesome about movies that make you want to watch more movies. But that’s me, a twenty-something guy with a movie blog and an endless Netflix queue that’ll take two lifetimes to get through. If I were a kid seeing this or even a casual moviegoer at best, I don’t think I’d come away with the same impression and want to start YouTubing Buster Keaton’s greatest hits, but I’m sure most anyone would have a time just soaking in the adventure. Think I’m more intrigued than anything else as to what this is like for someone who’s not already ass over elbows for movies.
And the cast is also fantastic. Never seen Asa Butterfield before, but he’s really solid as Hugo; Chloe Moretz can do no wrong and she continues her amazing streak as the toymaker’s goddaughter, Chloe; it’s always great to see the untouchable Sir Ben Kingsley take roles that live up to his knighthood as the toymaker; and Sacha Baron Cohen is fine as the train station inspector, even though he never had a chance with the gags he was given. Nonetheless, a wonderful job done by all.
When I first saw the reviews, I was surprised by how much everyone else liked this, and even though I was skeptical from the get-go, I’m twice as surprised at how much I ended up liking it. There were a number of times where I considered dropping this down to a 7, but aside from the humor that falls flat, the occasional side plot that doesn’t add much of anything to the story, and the nagging feeling that I should have had a more emotional connection to what I was watching, Hugo really is one wonderful time capsule of a movie. At the very least, it’s just a warm, whimsical, kind-hearted story about helping oneself through helping others, and that’s alright by me. Way go to, Marty.
Been one hell of a big week for the world of PG movies.
The Interrupters (2011)
VERDICT:
10/10 Unsung Heroes
Would be pretty surprised if saw a better movie this year.
The Interrupters is a documentary that follows a year in the life of the CeaseFire violence interrupters. Made up entirely of ex-gang members who’ve done their time and seen the error of their ways, CeaseFire’s mission is to put an end to the violence epidemic among the youth of Chicago by mediating conflicts before they escalate into murders.
If you’ve heard of director Steve James, it’s probably because you’ve seen Hoop Dreams. It’s been a while since the last time I saw it, but it doesn’t take much to realize Hoop Dreams is one of the all-time greats. What started out as a documentary about two teenage basketball prodigies from inner-city Chicago eventually turned into one of the most emotional, profound, and unexpected insights into American life that still resonates to this day. 17 years later, James has returned to Chicago to do the same for a new generation of kids who’ve traded in their basketballs for handguns and turned their streets into mortuaries. Until I saw the trailer for this, I had no who “The Interrupters” were, I had no idea who Derrion Albert was, and I was generally oblivious to the warzone that has been inner-city Chicago. I guess I could blame myself for not keeping up with current events, but in a world where Kardashian divorces and Lohan parole hearings are headline news, I’m guessing I’m not alone on this one. And that’s just the first reason this movie deserves to be seen, because this stuff shouldn’t come as a surprise.
With that being said, it was nothing short of brave for James to make this movie. See, there aren’t a whole lot of white people who show up on camera here, and in a place where innocent bystanders are more common than you can imagine, it couldn’t have been easy for James to spend a year as a white guy walking through the some roughest neighborhoods in Chicago with a giant camera on his shoulder. But if the story had been told in any other medium or tackled from a distance, there’s no way it would have had the same impact. Regardless of whether he gets it or not, James deserves an Oscar for what he does here, and the impact is unforgettable. And as far as his subjects are concerned, “brave” doesn’t even come close.
The members of CeaseFire that James spends the majority of his time with are founder Tio Hardman and violence interrupters Ameena Matthews, Cobe Williams, and Eddie Bocanegra. Those names might no mean much to you now, but they will after you meet them. Now, I’m not gonna pretend to know what life must be like for the kids that they’re working with, but as someone who used to work with at-risk youth in the South Bronx every day for two years, I do know that it can be one hell of a struggle getting through to them. So when I think about putting myself in Ameena Matthews’ shoes – daughter to a legend in the gang circles of Chicago – as she approaches a group of young men wearing a whole lot of red and a mind to kill without thinking twice, I’d think about turning tail and hoping for the best. But that’s not Matthews. She stands right inside the huddle, talks with them instead of to them, tells them exactly what’s going through their heads because she knows exactly where they’re coming from, and ultimately gets them to walk away changed men. To me, that’s heroism, especially in a community that has the power to speak up but prefers to stay silent.
Not too long ago, I recommended the documentary Dark Days to my mom – an exposé into the mole people living off the grid in the tunnels of the New York City subway system during the ’90s. Since my mom creates housing for the homeless in NYC for a living, and I watch a crap load of movies, I thought this would be a surefire home run. I was mistaken. She didn’t dislike it, but her biggest issue with Dark Days was that, while it exposes a problem and gives the audience an insider’s perspective to a reality that few will ever experience, it doesn’t propose a solution, and that’s how you really help people. There are so many extraordinary aspects of The Interrupters that makes it required viewing for anyone with a pulse, but what sends it home for me is how it differs from the way Dark Days suffered. This movie is as much about the solution as it is the problem, and both are equally complex.
I mean, how do you stop people from killing each other when it’s the norm? When a local mortician tells James that the life expectancy of a young black male living in the worst neighborhood of Chicago is 30-years-old, I can’t even begin wrap my head around that let alone come up with a way to change it. And this isn’t even about gang wars or rival turfs, it’s a matter of pride and respect and the permanent lengths that people go to in order to ensure they have both. It’s about men and women, boys and girls, mothers and fathers getting gunned down on the street for something they didn’t do or for something that doesn’t even matter. Early on in the film there’s a scene where members of CeaseFire have to stop a group of teenagers from starting an all-out street war because someone owed someone else five bucks. Killing someone over five bucks, five bucks that probably isn’t even yours. That’s fucking crazy, but it happens all the time. Over the years I’ve heard about people getting shot for looking at someone the wrong way or saying the wrong thing, and I just thought it was all talk. Believe me, I wish it was.
There’s no quick fix for the issues this movie brings to light, and while it may take place in Chicago, it’s not just Chicago. The mindset of murder is as much an epidemic as any lethal disease, but you gotta believe there’s a cure. When you see how CeaseFire impacts the lives of these kids and you see them grow into someone so much better and wiser over the course of a year, that’s what makes you believe. Matthews, Hardiman, Williams, and Bocanegra have all done and experienced awful things in their time, and lesser people would use that as ammo to lash out further against the world that wronged them. They’re living examples that violence begets violence, they’re lucky than most in that they’re still alive to make a difference, and without them around, these kids wouldn’t stand a chance. When the cameras stop rolling, you’ll want to know how things worked out for these kids in the exact same way we all wanted to know how things played out for Arthur Agee and William Gates. After getting out of prison at 17 and gets a job working at a daycare center, a teen named “Lil'” Mike turns to the camera with rake in hand and says, “They used to tell me, ‘You a class-X felon, you can’t do nothin’.’ Well now I got something. I got a job.” Just one of many scenes that left me speechless and broke me down, and just one of the many kids that’ll renew your faith in mankind.
The importance of The Interrupters in the world today is something I really can’t emphasize enough. I’ve seen a lot of great movies this year and still have some left to go, but after finally getting the chance to see this, everything else just feels irrelevant. Some people go to see movies to escape from the real world, some people make movies for the very same reason. There’s nothing wrong with that, but this is not one of those movies. Folks, it’s easy to turn a blind eye to all horrors of life when the solution is to face it head on at the risk of your own. These are the Gandhis of our generation, the people who are putting their necks on the line to be the change they want to see in the world, and they deserve more recognition and support than they will ever receive. The Interrupters is a movie that I wish never had to be made, but the fact that it was is as inspiring and hopeful as it is tragic and devastating. These are the movies that change the world, and it’s really as simple as that.
Pearl Jam Twenty (2011)
VERDICT:
8/10 Rearviewmirrors
Good gravy, why did grunge ever fade out?
Pearl Jam Twenty is a documentary about one of the biggest grunge acts to come out of Seattle in the late ’80s/early ’90s. First, they were known as Mother Love Bone, but disbanded after their lead singer died of an overdose. Then, they became Mookie Blaylock after recruiting a security guard named Eddie Vedder to take the reigns as lead vocalist. Finally, they dubbed themselves Pearl Jam after the real-life Mookie Blaylock decided that this world isn’t big enough for two Mookie Blaylocks, and they’ve been kicking ass ever since.
So, yeah, it’s been 20-freakin’-years since Ten came out. Just what you needed to make you feel like an old fart, huh? Like many of you, I imagine, I vividly remember the day that album entered into my life. It was 2002, I was a junior in high school, and in a search for new music to listen flesh out my overflowing CD wallet, I turned to the one guy who got me into music in the first place. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked him if Ten was as good as everyone said since I was still undecided about whether Eddie Vedder sounded awesome or annoying. With a look of disappointment that the question was ever asked, my musical life coach urged me to buy it immediately and to get Superunknown by Soundgarden while I was at it. A week or so later, the two albums arrived from good old Half.com, and those were the only two albums I listened to for the next year or so.
Nearly a decade later, I’ve got Ten, Vs., and Vitalogy ingrained in my DNA and they’re still as amazing as they were in high school. Not sure why I didn’t keep up with their next seven albums, but the funny thing about it is that even after all these years and all the songs I know by heart, it seems I knew next to nothing about the band I once obsessed over. I didn’t know about Mother Love Bone or the late Andrew Wood, didn’t know that the title for Ten was actually a shout-out to Mookie Blaylock (#10 for the New Jersey Nets), and, Jesus, Vedder was the only member of the band whose name I actually knew. As a Pearl Jam fan, I feel shame, but by the same token, these guys aren’t exactly fame whores either.
I’ll save my thoughts on Cobain’s overreaction to fame for the off-chance that I ever get to review Last Days, but much like Nirvana, Eddie and the boys have never been too keen on how famous they are. They’ve rarely made music videos (even though they’ve made some great ones,) they pretty much told the Grammy voters to go fuck themselves during their ’96 acceptance speech for Best Hard Rock Performance, and if they had it their way, they never would have left the podunk clubs of Seattle. I can already hear the echoes of, “Cry me a river, you get to make millions playing music for a living,” and while I partly agree, I can’t help but side with the band. On the one hand, fame is a risk you run when you start a band, but on the other, it must blow to be seen as a cash cow for the industry when all you ever wanted to do was play music because you love music, not because of the dollar signs attached. Look, until the day “Aiden Redmond” and “Cut The Crap Movie Reviews” are household names, I’ll never understand what it’s like to be in the public eye at all times and I can’t start throwing stones at the people who know it all too well.
Anyway, Pearl Jam’s reaction to all the world’s questions has generally been to hide in the attic and go play concerts. This is where Cameron Crowe comes in. A long-time friend of the band and brainchild of Citizen Dick, I don’t think there’s another film maker out there who could have gotten these kinds of interviews with the band reflecting on their experiences with one another and the world at large over the course of two decades. There aren’t a lot of bands that stay together for 20 years, and after some of the stuff they’ve gone through, whether it be the death of a front man or an outdoor concert that led to nine people being crushed to death, it’s pretty amazing that they’ve managed to stick it out this long and that Crowe got them to open up about it as much as they do. He also gets a crazy amount of access to never-before-seen footage from their first basement practice sessions to Eddie’s first demo reel that got him in the band, and the finished product is as much a greatest hits compilation as it is a comprehensive trip down memory lane that’ll come as news for even the most die-hard of fans.
Although the one thing I wasn’t crazy about is how Crowe keeps inserting himself into the band’s history and how their whole story starts off with how Crowe used to hang with Stone Gossard and Jeff Ament before they became the founding members of Pearl Jam. I get it in the sense that Crowe has a personal connection to the band, but it just seems self-important, like something Werner Herzog would do, and that’s an approach I’ve never been big on. But considering how this movie probably wouldn’t have happened without Crowe’s involvement and that these few moments do little to detract from the movie as a whole, it’s an easy gripe to overlook.
Folks, it’s practically impossible to find a band that only gets better with age, that can write songs that just as good as the stuff that got them famous in the first place, but it’s awesome to find a band that refuses to conform to what other people want them to be. They fought Ticketmaster, they took on George W. when it was mighty unpopular to do so, and they’re still making the music they want to make even if it doesn’t get them on the radio. Don’t get me wrong, Pearl Jam’s not the diamond the rough since there will always be great new bands making great new music, but the problem with a lot of bands is that they eventually stop being who they want to be and start becoming what the public wants them to be: other bands. I don’t know about you, but that sucks. You think Miles Davis cared about alienating his fans when he put out Bitches Brew? Hell to the no, and something tells me that if Miles tried to put that album out today, he’d have a much easier time selling out.
If you’ve never listened to Pearl Jam before, I’d still start with Ten before giving this a go, but it’s still a really cool behind-the-scenes look at a really interesting group of guys with a really interesting history behind, and ahead of, them. Sorry if I’ve sounded like a bonafide music snob, but it’s movies like these and bands like Pearl Jam that make me wish I’d been born a decade earlier. Yeah, Midnight in Paris tells me that’s no way to live, and I’m sure there were a ton of shitty bands flooding the airwaves by the time Pearl Jam made the cover of Rolling Stone, but the grunge era really was one unbelievable time to dig music. The only time I saw these guys live was in May of last year at Madison Square Garden, and even though they were good, what I would give to have seen them after Ten came out. Been a long time since Eddie’s been swinging from the rafters. No-freaking-fair that I had to grow up with The Backstreet Boys on the cover of Rolling Stone.
TrollHunter (2011)
VERDICT:
7/10 Norwegian Woods
Way better than you think it is.
TrollHunter is about a group of college students who set out to make a documentary about some odd happenings among a group of bear hunters in Norway. As they dig deeper, they’re led to a mysterious man named Hans, the individual rumored responsible for all the crazy crap that the government’s trying to hide from the public eye. Despite his insistence that they should turn tail and go home, they start secretly following Hans throughout the night on his “bear hunts” to find out what’s really going on. As they soon find out, Hans isn’t hunting bears at all. Hans is in fact the one guy keeping Norway’s troll population in check by any means necessary. While most people would take this revelation as a perfect opportunity to leave Norway and never go near trees again, the students decide to see this project through to the end, even if it costs them their lives.
Man, as I read that last paragraph over, I’m instantly reminded that this movie sounds dumb as all hell. If someone tried to sell me on a movie by saying, “It’s like The Blair Witch Project, but with trolls,” I don’t think we’d have much else to talk about. Right off the bat, this is not a movie that anyone’s going to take seriously, and unless trolls are making a zombie-like comeback that I’m totally unaware of, it doesn’t seem like a movie most people would actively seek out either. Nevertheless, there is a strange fascination that goes along with that Jurassic Park-esque poster and I’m sure there were a good deal of people who were chomping at the freakin’ bit to see this in theaters. But as easy as it is to be skeptical, I highly recommend rolling with your curiosity on this one.
But back to The Blair Witch Project briefly. The gift of TBWP is that we got an outrageously successful, totally original, and arguably terrifying movie out of it that proved how very little you actually needed to scare the poop out of an entire planet and cause mass paranoia with the help of the internet. The curse of TBWP is that we can’t fucking escape it anymore. I’m not saying the horror mockumentary shtick hasn’t had its bright spots since 1999, but what was once a totally fresh concept has now become pretty run-of-the-mill. So now that we’ve gone from witches to Cloverfield monsters to demons to exorcisms, I guess it was only a matter of time before we made our way to trolls, right? I don’t know.
Now, I’m a bit out of loop when it comes to the various Goosebumps classics the children of Norway have been getting into over the years, but I think I speak for a strong majority of America when I say that trolls are pretty low on the list of Shit That Keeps Us Up At Night. If you’ve seen Troll 2, you know what I’m talking about, if you haven’t, you’re probably still wondering how they managed to make a horror movie out of those neon-haired, diamond-naveled, bug-eyed toys your daughter use to collect with her third-grade allowance money. So how did writer/director Andre Overdal overcome this ginormous hurdle? By making them three stories tall and ugly as sin, of course.
What’s cool about Overdal’s take on the subject is that he approaches troll folklore in the same way Blade or Fright Night approaches the strengths and weaknesses of vampires. Apparently there’s some legend about how you can get into riddle matches with a troll or something like that, and when the college students first realize what Hans does for a living, those childish questions are the ones that get asked. The good thing is that Hans scoffs at the suggestion of riddle-offs because he’s too busy prepping his troll-killin’ tank with ultraviolet floodlights that’ll turn those bastards to stone/explode ’em into goo and making damn sure that none of his new friends are practicing Christians. Trolls love that Christian blood, yo. And once the rules are set, that’s when the trolls do start showing up in all their hideous glory to sniff out and eat the nearest thing that doesn’t smell like their own stank-asses.
On that note, Overdal was a smart man not to skimp on the special effects, because these suckers look surprisingly convincing and the same goes for their interactions with the world around them. There are a lot of things that are surprisingly successful about this movie, but it’s especially cool how Overdal blends fantasy with reality in some very obvious, yet inspired ways. The plot isn’t just “heroes find troll, heroes run for their lives, heroes kill troll, rinse, wash, and repeat with bigger trolls,” the heart of it is Hans taking advantage of his newfound posse and their fancy-schmancy camera to blow up Norway’s spot and reveal the dirty secrets that have been staring at the public in plain sight. Those downed trees in your back yard? Get real, homey. Tornadoes don’t run that small. Those towering power lines running strung throughout the countryside? Guess what, fool? There ain’t phones connected to those joints, that’s just one huge electric fence built to keep the troll kings from dropping trou in your sauerkraut.
Maybe it sounds silly out of context, but the way this movie takes the already breathtakingly beautiful landscapes of Norway and uses them to emphasize that trolls are as serious a threat as they come is exactly what makes it all work. When it starts out, you’ll be rolling your eyes just as often as the students do, but by the end, don’t be surprised by how invested you’ll be in their efforts. By the same token, there’s not much to be gained from this movie except for the adrenaline rush, although it’s not like I was hoping for 12 Angry Men from a movie called TrollHunter. But as far as thrill rides are concerned, this one does a kickass job of upping the ante and keeping things wild.
Folks, I don’t know how effective this review’s been in regards to convincing y’all that this isn’t as stupid as it sounds, but I’m tellin’ ya’, TrollHunter is a time. It’s fun, it’s intense, and while trolls still have a ways to go before we can start to forget about The Best Worst Movie Ever Made, this was a big win for ’em. This experience could have gone a lot of ways, but for all the things it could have done wrong like take itself dead seriously or go for cheap scares like its supernatural cousin Paranormal Activity, it dodges them like a boss and does a whole lot of things right in the process. Man, for a genre that’s in serious need of some originality these days, it’s hard to believe this ended up being one of the keepers.
The Muppets (2011)
VERDICT:
8/10 Rainbow Connections
Saving childhood memories and bringing people together, one rubber chicken at a time.
The Muppets is about two brothers: one flesh, one felt, both lifelong fans of The Muppet Show. One day, the human brother takes his girlfriend to LA to celebrate their 10th anniversary of going steady and brings his fuzzy brother along for the ride to see the old Muppets studios. When they finally get there, they discover the studios left in shambles and the Muppets long-since disbanded. In a desperate effort to meet his heroes and rescue the studios from falling into the hands of an evil oil baron, the trio from Smalltown, USA recruit Kermit himself to try and get the band back together for one last show to save their legacy.
I don’t know where I was when The Muppet Show was at its prime, probably watching Ninja Turtles re-runs in my Ninja Turtles underwear, but I missed the boat. Despite what my peers have always told me, I’ve always been under the impression that it was a funnier version of Sesame Street. Even though Sesame Street rocks, that’s never been much of an endorsement to for me to give it a fair shot. Shows what I know.
Just like everyone’s been telling me for Godknowshowlong, The Muppets are actually hilarious, and just like I’ve known since Freaks and Geeks entered into my life, so is Jason Segel. From what I’ve heard, the guy’s as much a fan of The Muppets in real life as the character he’s playing, and not to sell the many talents of The Muppets short, but that does make all the difference. In a nutshell, the whole movie is one big excuse for him to give the world a brand new episode of The Muppet Show, and even though that might not sound like much of a draw for the unconverted, the trip that he and frequent co-writer Nicholas Stoller take to get us there is a friggin’ riot that’s tailor-made get you on board.
The thing is, this plot’s been done a million times before and a lot of the gags will sound pretty familiar at first. What makes this different is how brilliantly self-aware, tongue-in-cheek, and endlessly ridiculous it is. When Kermit says he won’t get The Muppets back together for a telethon, Amy Adams chimes in with, “This is going to be a really short movie.” When they realize they can’t drive across the Atlantic to reach Miss Piggy in Paris, Fozzie Bear remembers that they can “travel by map,” at which point he hits a “TRAVEL BY MAP” button on the dashboard that cuts to a segue right out of Raiders, getting them to France in record time. I’ll leave the minor spoilers at that ’cause if I started listing all the fun-fueled craziness that happens in this movie, you’d be reading a crap translation of the whole damn script right now. It plays to the strengths of everything that made The Muppet Show a hit in the first place, updates it for a new generation of people who don’t remember New Coke, and adds a whole lot of heart that makes it so much more than just a reunion tour for the fans. Doesn’t matter who you are or how old you are, everyone needs a reason to believe in themselves every once in a while.
On top of all that, Segel and Adams are just awesome as Gary and Mary, although the downside is that their story winds up taking a big backseat to the struggles of The Muppets. It’s a bummer since I found myself caring less and less about whether they’d work things out as things kept getting astronomically worse for Kermit and the gang, but by the same token, this isn’t their movie anyway and it’s nice to see Segel and Stoller recognize that rather than try to steal the spotlight. Adding to the human contingent is also a totally against-type and out-of-sight performance from a rapping Chris Cooper as Tex Richman, the maniacal jerk who’s trying to ruin The Muppets’ good name. And no, that’s not a typo, Chris Cooper does have a rap solo. That alone is a pretty solid barometer of where this movie’s coming from. And then in true Muppet Show form, there are about three dozen cameos or so from all your favorite A-listers, and while I’m not gonna ruin the surprise, I assure you they’re all great.
So the script, the cast, and the original songs from Flight of the Conchords‘ Bret McKenzie are all tip-top, but that’s not where the love for this movie began. During the endless string of previews I had to sit through before this started up, I had the complete displeasure of sitting through the first trailer for everything that’s wrong with this world, or as the studios are calling it, Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chip-Wrecked. When I was a kid, I loved watching Alvin and the Chipmunks in my Alvin and the Chipmunks underwear, so when I’m forced to watch on as Hollywood ralphs all over one of little Aiden’s favorite shows with a movie about sexy female chipmunks who sing a remix of “Whip My Hair,” (a song that already deserved a long, gruesome death,) grown-up Aiden dies a little on the inside. At this point, the same tragic fate has been sealed for nearly every show that I or anyone else once worshiped, so the fact that The Muppets is such a glaring exception to the rule in this regard just makes the final package that much more impressive.
I saw this over the weekend with my good buddy Fred and my three cousins – the youngest having just turned eight, the oldest on his way to college – in a packed theater filled with fogies and youngsters alike. Over the course of 98 minutes, I got choked up more times than I was prepared for, Fred was full-out waterworks, and all five of us laughed our butts off at all the same parts. It’s not easy to make a PG movie that has that kind of universal appeal regardless of age, and up until now, I thought it was nearly impossible to make a movie that doesn’t shamelessly bastardize everything that was loved about the TV show being adapted. I’m not saying that there’s no way you won’t go ape over The Muppets, but when you compare it to The Smurfs, there’s no way you won’t recognize this as nothing short of a revelation.
You know that scene in (500) Days of Summer where Joseph Gordon-Levitt has the best walk of shame ever filled with cartoon bluebirds, personal parades, and game-winning home runs? That’s what The Muppets is like the whole darn time. It’s always good to see a movie that succeeds in all the ways where the imitators fail, but it’s nothing short of great to see a movie that makes you feel this swell about being alive. Bring the kids, brings the parents, bring the homeys, bring the drifters huffing glue in the parking lot out back; you’ll all be better off for it.
Man, there shouldn’t have been a doubt in my mind about the movie that was responsible for this trailer:
And the best movie mullet belongs to…
JOE-FREAKIN’-DIRT!
At first, I was surprised, but on further reflection, I can’t help but wholeheartedly approve. Not too much business going on in the front for Joe, but holy hell, is there a party going on in the back.
Swell voting, folks. Who knew we had so many David Spade fans out there?
RESULTS:
– Joe Dirt: 6 votes
– Vincent Vega: 5 votes
– Obi-Wan from Episode II: 4 votes
– Mr. Nanny: 3 votes
– Dalton: 3 votes
– Snake Plissken: 2 votes
– David from The Lost Boys: 2 votes
– Jareth the Goblin King: 2 votes
– Van Damme: 1 vote
– Billy Mitchell: 1 vote
– Riggs: 1 vote
– Jack Burton: 0 votes
– John Rambo: 0 votes (very surprising)
– Other: 1 vote for Nada from They Live (hell yes, can’t believe I forgot that one.)
And the best fake movie band is…
THE ONEDERS!
Folks, it takes one seriously catchy number to best The Greatest Hits of Spinal Tap. I attribute this win to Shades…and the bass player named T.B.P.
Swell voting!
RESULTS:
– The Oneders: 5 votes
– Spinal Tap: 4 votes
– Stillwater: 4 votes
– Hedwig and the Angry Inch: 4 votes
– Wyld Stallyns: 3 votes
– Sonic Death Monkey: 2 votes
– The Commitments: 2 votes
– Sexual Chocolate: 2 votes
– Loveburger: 0 votes
– Citizen Dick: 0 votes
– Other: 1 vote for The Lone Rangers
So with Thanksgiving right around the corner to bring good tidings of food comas and hangover, I’ve decided to take the week off to get back to the old screenplay and prepare myself for the orgy of deliciousness ahead. Not a bad idea if I do say so myself, and until next time, Happy Turkey Day, y’all!
Fright Night (2011)
VERDICT:
7/10 Creatures of the Night
Better than the original in every way.
Fright Night is about a formerly nerdy teenage boy growing up in the suburbs of Las Vegas. Soon after we meet him, the kid notices that some of his classmates have dropped off the face of the Earth ever since a devilishly handsome chap with a thing for wife beaters moved in next door. Because someone had to make the connection, the kid’s nerdy best friend comes to the conclusion that the new guy next door is in fact a vampire and the reason there are so many kids and hookers missing is ’cause he’s been biting necks like gangbusters. The kid doesn’t believe his best friend, then his best friend disappears off the face of the Earth, then the kid witnesses first-hand that his best friend was right all along and quickly finds himself next on his neighbor’s menu. Having failed Vampire Hunting 101 his freshman year, the kid recruits the help of a Criss Angel look-alike to help take out the new bloodsucker on the block before he, his mom, and his brand new girlfriend get Dracula’d.
“Dracula’d.” Trust me, all the kids are saying it.
If there’s two things this world doesn’t need, it’s another freakin’ remake and another freakin’ vampire movie. Examples like this year’s The Thing and Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark are just further proof that originality and necessity are becoming obsolete in this industry, and it’s safe to say that those fucking Twihards are to blame for everything else. From the outset, that’s probably why this movie tanked at the box office like it did, but lo and behold, those fools missed out on one of the best horror remakes in years.
Now, there are a lot of people out there who think the original Fright Night from 1985 is one of the all-time greats. I’m not one of those people. The makeup is good, the premise is good, and it’s enjoyable for the cult classic it’s generally regarded to be, but the acting’s abysmal, it’s campy as all hell, and 26 years later, it shows its age. Pretty sure I’m in the minority on this one, but from where I’m sitting, the original Fright Night is a movie that was due for a remake. Lucky for us, director Craig Gillespie and writer Marti Noxon answer the call in all the right ways. So without further ado…
1) They honor the original. The premise is already great, that’s why it’s being remade in the first place, so they stick to what works and make it their own instead of crunching out a carbon copy and hope the masses don’t mind (note: they always mind.) Throw in all the best lines from the original along with some surprise cameos from the old cast, and there’s your fan service to boot. You don’t need to see the original to appreciate the remake, but it’s a nice little bonus that shows they care.
2) They up the ante without overdoing it. Every time our heroes got into a pickle that you think you’ve seen before and gets resolved the same way every time, the script almost always manages to pull a youie and make the whole thing feel new again. It’d be one thing if every twist was a variation on torture porn (because we all know how much folks like torture porn these days,) but instead they resort to smart, creative writing that makes the characters seem that much smarter and realistic in turn. Have you ever seen a horror movie where a parent believed their kid about the monster at the door instead of calling them nuts before opening the door? A horror movie where that actually happens is a horror movie worth applauding. Smart people, gotta love ’em.
3) They play to the original’s strengths. One of the big appeals to the ’85 version is how self-aware it is in a “What would you do if your neighbor was a vampire?” kind of way. So from ragging on Twilight to acknowledging how totally unprepared they are for the insane circumstances they’ve now found themselves in, these characters are on the level. As much as we don’t need another vampire movie this year, it’s actually the perfect time for a vampire movie that takes names for a change and doesn’t give a shit about Team Edward.
4) They don’t make it PG-13. Blood galore, swears up the yin-yang, and lots of stakes in lots of hearts. That’s what I’m talkin’ bout, Willis.
5) They don’t rely on the cast to carry the script. Remember how excited you were when Jackie Earle Haley signed on to play Freddy Krueger? Remember how that turned out? There ya’ go. It certainly helps that this script is good to begin with, but the cast is just as entertaining as the context.
I know he doesn’t have the biggest resume out there, but Anton Yelchin has never really done it for me. Think it has something to do with how irritating he looked in that Charlie Bartlett trailer, and his Chekov impression in Star Trek wasn’t enough to get him into my non-Trekkie good graces either. But he’s surprisingly likable as Charley the vampire slayer, he reacts just the way I would if the roles were reversed, and he actually ends up being quite the little badass. A big surprise among many and more power to ‘im. And Colin Farrell – another guy who I was still undecided about – is fantastic as Jerry the vampire. He uses his studly looks to good use and creates one seriously sinister, seriously likable villain. Guess I need to watch In Bruges again, ’cause Colin Farrell’s pretty sweet. Toni Collete’s also good as Charley’s refreshingly understanding mom; Imogen Poots is as solid as she is pretty playing Charley’s main squeeze; a totally unrecognizable David Tennant is awfully inspired, if not a tad over-the-top, as Charley’s hired help, Peter Vincent; and then there’s Christopher Mintz-Plasse…
CMP plays Charley’s best friend, “Evil” Ed, and when we first meet him, he’s awesome. He tells off Charley’s douchebag friends like a boss, he’s the voice of reason who’s more prepared than any normal kid should be, and even if he’s still McLovin, he’s way better than the guy who played Ed in ’85. But then he disappears for a while, comes back pretty late in the game, and the kid starts hamming it up like you wouldn’t believe. It’s a true bummer how he goes from one of the best characters in the movie to the most irritating by a long shot in one fell swoop, and I genuinely wonder what possessed him. Someday he’ll get the chance to shed McLovin, and even if this is the most against-type role he’s taken, it’s not gonna do it.
I wish I didn’t have to lay out all of Fright Night‘s pros in bullet points, but when we live in a world where the powers that be can take a perfect horror movie like Halloween and let Rob Zombie turn it into a boob-filled blood orgy…then let him do it again, someone has to spell it out for these Hollywood asshats. There are rules, people, rules that are not being followed. Honestly, why the hell would you make a “prequel” to The Thing? Some movies just don’t need remakes, and while some may argue that Fright Night is one of those movies, this is how you get it right. It’s some fun, funny, fresh stuff that only gets better with each new scare and unexpected plot development. Would have given it an 8 if some of the dialogue hadn’t tried so hard to get a laugh or been so crude for the sake of it, but relatively minor complaints considering what an exception to the rule this is.
Such a good idea for a movie.
Cut The Crap Movie Reviews 