Footloose & Flow

Oh, awesome.

See, we've talked about the upcoming Footloose remake here before. Back when, it starred Chace Crawford and Julianne Hough as new kid in tow Ren McCormack and rebellious preacher's daughter Ariel Moore, respectively. I even did a partial casting coup for it, with Kevin Spacey taking over the John Lithgow role and Felicity Huffman in the Dianne Wiest role.

Now, I know that no one will ever take the place of Kevin Bacon. The man is such a superb actor, and always has been. His Ren McCormack is one for the books, the reason why we remember that there was a movie called Footloose (all due respect to Wiest, who only has one big scene among a bunch of background smiling).  But if there's to be a remake, I'm glad it's in the hands of Craig Brewer. For yes, ladies and gents, the man behind Hustle & Flow (featuring the deserved Oscar Nominee Terrence Howard and the shoulda-been-nom'd Taraji P. Henson) and Black Snake Moan (featuring Hollmann Award Nominee Samuel L. Jackson) is now set to helm Footloose.

Last we checked, it was going to feature original songs, despite a musical version being readily available. I hope Brewer manages to convince the folks at Paramount to go that route, because I would pay 3D prices to see "Dancing is Not a Crime" on the big screen. If Cool as Ice has taught me anything, it's that white people should not rap. If Footloose: The Musical has taught me anything, it's that seeing white people rap is the most enjoyable entertainment since the Spice Girls. Let's not lose that novelty in the film version, Paramount. Be a sport.

Dixie Carter (1939 - 2010)

When I saw That Evening Sun Thursday night, I thought about how beautiful Dixie Carter still is. She was my favorite the few times I watched Designing Women, and I always thought it a pity that I didn't see her in more stuff. I thought to myself, "Self, when you get to H'wood, you need to find a part for that Dixie Carter."

Too late, though. Just three hours ago came news that Dixie Carter passed away at the age of 70, an age that seems far too young. She is survived by her husband, Hal Holbrook.

So raise a glass to Dixie Carter, a true Southern belle: classy, funny, born in Tennessee. You'll be sorely missed, but you'll always be remembered.

"Life is Wasted on...People"

There's a running joke in Greenberg, wherein the protagonist sits in the passenger seat of his friends' cars as they drive. As the drivers maintain conversation while driving, Greenberg is constantly interrupting. "Light's changed," he'll say, or "Use your signal". The punchline: Greenberg doesn't drive.

This bit of business defines the character perfectly. For Roger Greenberg, probably the best performance Ben Stiller's given since Zoolander, is an asshole. And not just an asshole, but the kind of asshole who knows everyone else is wrong, even if they have more authority on the subject than he does. Moody, emotionally abusive, overly critical, and pretentiously unpretentious, Greenberg both unlikable and sympathetic. You want him to wake up and realize what a jerk he is, yet you sense that it's not going to happen. Some people just don't change. But you can hope, right?

Greta Gerwig is the love interest, a bright spot amidst the melancholy. Though she, too, is a lost soul, she at least has the ability to smile without maliciousness. Gerwig crafts her character subtly and believably, and I couldn't help falling in love with her. The play between her and Stiller is funny yet scary, as they go back-and-forth between expressing their affection for each other and violently pushing away. Rhys Ifans also appears as the only other emotional tie for Greenberg, his best friend from college. I always forget how much I like him; here, he is just as subdued as the rest, but no less effective.

If there is a stumbling block, it's in its portrayal of the youth. Really? None of these twenty-somethings know have heard of Duran Duran or "Disco Inferno"? One could argue that they are crafted from Greenberg's perception of them, but the movie does not do this with anyone else. As a 21-year-old, I could only sigh. Seriously, not knowing "Disco Inferno"? It's not radios disappeared with the advent of the iPod. It's not like we didn't have parents or older siblings. And does anyone listen to Korn anymore?

But that's just every now and then. Mostly, it's a fascinating look at the 90s slacker finally coming of age...twenty years too late (I admit, that's my roommate's analysis, and I'm stealing it). It's an interesting little movie, hilarious and thoughtful. And again, great Ben Stiller performance. It makes me want to see Margot at the Wedding...or maybe revisit The Squid and the Whale, which I haven't seen since its release (I hated that movie...until I got out of the theater and started talking about it). Mostly, it makes me really appreciate the talent of Noah Baumbach.

Ice to See You!

So I'm watching Batman & Robin, in celebration of my just obtaining the full score by Elliot Goldenthal. I know it's an unpopular thing to say, but this is my favorite Batman movie. It keeps me consistently entertained, has the best Batman/Bruce Wayne (the script is not Clooney's fault), and features Alicia Silverstone, who I will always have the hots for. Besides, Akiva Goldsman and Joel Schumacher understood the importance of Alfred better than previous filmmakers. Alfred being my favorite character, this is tres importante to me.

Mind, I also love the Elliot Goldenthal score. Much, much more than Danny Elfman's Batman score. It should have gotten an Oscar nomination, at least over As Good As It Gets.

How can you hate a movie whose first lines are:
ROBIN: "I want a car. Chicks dig the car."
BATMAN: "This is why Superman works alone."

Or a villain whose first three lines are:
"Mercy? I'm afraid that my condition has left me cold to your pleas of mercy."
"In this universe, there is only one absolute: everything freezes."
"You're not sending me to the cooler!"

My God, and the writer has an OSCAR! That is mind-blowing! And Schumacher's reasoning on the Blu-Ray commentary? Because Freeze is a "Nordic, cold figure", so they wanted to make sure the audience "got it". I mean, how the fuck would the audience understand otherwise? His name is only Mr. Freeze!

(Of course, Schumacher frequently insists that this was intended as a kid's movie. Indeed, the reason they chose Poison Ivy and Mr. Freeze is because he asked his six-year-old godson who his favorite Batman villains were. Good taste, kid: Mr. Freeze will always be my favorite.)

Recently, we watched Myra Breckinridge. I loved that, too, but not in an ironic sense. It's a genius film that's ahead of its time. Anyway, my roommate pointed out something interesting. Raquel Welch's performance was...familiar to us. Any idea why?:








Some years back, Tim Burton, writer David Ives and songwriter Jim Steinman attempted to make a Batman musical. The Joker was the villain, Catwoman was involved, and Batman was a crybaby. The fools! Don't make a serious Batman musical, adapt Batman & Robin! The score, the production design, the nipples: they demand to have song-and-dance numbers to support! How much fun would that be? Dear God, the Flower Ball alone is a symphony of music, dance, costuming and overacting. Mr. Freeze may be after the diamonds, but this is the real jewel of the film.



What are you waiting for? Go ahead, give it another chance! If you need a little "extra help" to get through it, do it! It's just such a fun fucking movie!

UPDATE: Forgot to mention this. At the same time,  there's something actually beautiful about the film. Call me crazy, but the scenes with Alfred and Mr. Freeze's wife move me. Like, to tears. Is it the manipulative music? Or is it my own love for these characters? Whatever the reason, the scenes are effective. Thought I should mention this, else you might think the movie is just entertainingly bad. No, people, there are some genuine moments in Batman & Robin, courtesy the performances from Clooney, Silverstone, Michael Gough and AH-nuhld.

I'm in Love Again, Hear My Heart Strings Strummin'

To continue the reviews of movies I love yet hesitate to explain why:

I love thrillers. I really do. Agatha Christie's mysteries started this obsession, but it eventually progressed to ludicrous online minute-mysteries, the Gladdy Gold mysteries by Rita Lakin, and pulp novels from the 50s and 60s. Sure, many of them are ludicrous, but if the ride is a good one, I'm willing to go with it. Indeed, as long as the author makes a commitment as far as crazy goes, everything's Jake. And if you manage it with a winking sophistication, all the better.

The Ghost Writer is like that. It's an intriguing little thriller, in which a ghost writer (Ewan McGregor) is assigned to finish the memoirs of a former Prime Minister (Pierce Brosnan). This all comes during a war crimes investigation against the PM, and right after the first ghost writer has mysteriously drowned. That's all I can really say about the film, for the rest of it is filled with twists and turns.

Now, is it a ludicrous film? Of course it is! It's what you imagine to yourself while reading a dime novel in the back of a used bookstore! Everything supports this, from Alexandre Desplat's score to the stylized performances. But it's fun, and it never takes itself too seriously. The ending genuinely packs a punch. Hell, I knew what would happen by the forty-minute mark, and I was still on the edge of my seat! It's exciting and thrilling, and that last shot! As Sophia Petrillo said: "If this [amazing final shot from The Ghost Writer] were a person, I'd get naked and make love to it!"

I haven't seen a lot of Polanski. I'm "meh" on The Ninth Gate, though I love Chinatown; I couldn't get through The Fearless Vampire Killers, and I don't understand the love for The Pianist at all. Of course, now that I've seen The Ghost Writer, I'm going to have to delve into his work, for I think it's a masterpiece. It's political without being preachy, entertaining without being brainless, ridiculous without being self-parody. In the first four months of this year, I have seen one disaster after another,  yet somehow this and Shutter Island managed to sneak in and give me quality, suspense, characters I can actually cheer on or detest!

Standouts include Tom Wilkinson and Olivia Williams, the latter finding her way into the one to beat from the first four months. We'll see what the rest of 2010: Part One has to offer, but Lord she's magnificent in this movie.

See Breaking Upwards

Breaking Upwards was released in New York Friday. This independent feature, co-written with Peter Duchan by stars/real-life couple Daryl Wein and Zoe Lister-Jones, focuses on a couple "opening up" their relationship. Or, as Zoe Lister-Jones put it when I saw this at last year's Tallahassee Film Festival, they "mastermind [their] own break-up". It's an interesting little movie, as the two of them set down The Rules, including days when they're a couple and days when they aren't. Of course, feelings get hurt and they actually meet other people and have to explain things to their parents. It's a really great movie.

So I'm ecstatic that it's opening to a lot of press, great reviews, and a box office that's already allowed it to recoup its budget. I never reviewed it for some reason, even though it was my favorite at the Festival and I put it at #16 of my Top 25 of the Year. Hell, I even got to meet Wein and Lister-Jones after the film! Sometimes I just don't want to write about the movies I love. I'm afraid that I won't do it justice, or that my review will just come out as "AHHHHH THIS MOVIE ROOOOOOCKS!!!" And then, of course, there's the fact that whatever made me connect to it the way I did was extremely personal, to a point where I'm not even sure what it was in particular.

I do know that I love it, though. There are moments in this movie that just sing to me. Wein and Lister-Jones, a couple in real life, have great chemistry together, both in humorous scenes and in the more dramatic ones. Of course, with the knowledge that the movie is based on their own experience -- down to them even keeping their names -- it sometimes gets uncomfortable, like you're Honey watching George and Martha go at it. But it's also an incredible risk that they took, testing their relationship both in taking the break and documenting it, albeit in a fictional way.

The movie does not have a score, at least not one that intrudes on the superb, quieter moments. Zoe's rendezvous with a co-star (she's an actress at a black box theatre) is one such scene that stands out; no words, no music, just her face revealing her emotions. It's pained yet determined. I love it. It's real. Lister-Jones' whole performance is beautiful, and while Wein is indeed talented, she far outshines him. It helps, of course, that the film strikes a perfect balance between its stars, so that we neither applaud nor condemn them. They're doing what they think is right at the time.

Now, I'm glad this came out domestically finally, because that means I can discuss two of the greatest supporting actresses I saw last year. Andrea Martin and Julie White play their mothers. Martin, as Zoe's mom, still remains friends with Daryl. She's single and more open to the whole thing, even if she doesn't agree with it. White, by contrast, can't understand what's going on, and a dinner scene between these loving and confused mothers is the highlight of the movie. Peter Friedman is always welcome, and he too is perfection as Daryl's patient father.

Daryl Wein's direction is fantastic, minimalist yet effective, a trait of some of my favorite directors. Like Oren Moverman, he allows his camera to just remain still, capturing uninterrupted performances. And an uninterrupted performance, ladies and gents, is a genuine performance, one not assembled in the editing room, but right there, on set! Real acting, real directing! What a novel approach!

It's an incredible movie, really. I only hope it expands, because I do think this is something that everyone should see. We all know or have been these people, we know these mothers, we know this story. Breaking Upwards just dramatizes better than anything I've seen.

Clash of the...Oh, Who Cares?

CLASH OF THE TITANS

It's funny. I was excited for this remake of the 1980s Harry Hamlin-starrer, in which demi-god Perseus saves a beautiful princess from the vengeance of the Olympian Gods. The original has some cool moments, but it's a very slow-moving film with bland leads, though Maggie Smith is always a treat to watch. The new one offers Liam Neeson and Ralph Fiennes as Gods, Avatar star Sam Worthington in the lead, a mix of practical and CG effects, and Louis Letterrier in the director's chair. This was set up for me to love.

And I hated it. I hated it all so much. Other than Fiennes and Mads Mikkelsen having the time of their life, there is little to recommend about this movie. Perseus compromises his principles, and we're meant to root for this. We're also meant to feel for Zeus, one of the most corrupt and amoral characters I've seen this year -- and I saw The Ghost Writer. Hades is once again played as a villain, a portrayal that I don't remember in Greek mythology, but the American fear of mortality has seen fit to cast him as such. There is a romantic subplot that is only "romantic" (and a little rapey!) in one scene, with neither character developed.

Actually, none of the characters are developed. I have no idea who these people are, what they're doing, or why they're doing it. Oh, sure, there's the rigmarole about how the city of Argos is going to be destroyed by the Kraken because the people have offended the Gods. And it's either Kraken kills all, or Argos sacrifices their princess Andromeda. And Perseus goes to save her...but the Kraken really does a lot of damage to the city anyway. It seems hilariously futile when you watch it.

Worst of all, I couldn't even appreciate the special effects. We went back to the AMC where we saw the awful projection of The Wolfman -- it's the biggest screen in town, but I personally prefer the Regal Governors Square. They may not have huge screens or ear-blowing sound, but you can hear it perfectly and actually see the movie. Unlike the AMC, which had completely out of focus shots throughout the majority of the film. And when we complained about the film being out of focus, the manager tols us there was nothing they could do, that's just how the film looks. Sure, lady, Leterrier purposely made an effects-heavy blockbuster so blurry that the scorpions looked like blobs on the screen. Riiiight.

No more peer pressure, then. No AMC anymore. I should've stuck to my guns on this one. And sure, perhaps that added to my dislike of the film, but the script and acting didn't help. Worthington's performance here was devastatingly dull, while Gemma Arterton just stands around smirking at everyone, her only lines being odd platitudes about being a human vs. being a god. Fight scenes occur out of nowhere, like when the blind witches attack Nicholas Hoult (is he too pretty for them?). And the scorpion fight lasts forever. Indeed, when suddenly there are three ULTRA HUGE scorpions at the end of this sequence, it felt like a cut scene for a video game.

How bad was this movie? The screening I went to was a 10:45 show Thursday night. At the very end, I looked behind me. You've never seen an angrier-looking audience. College kids, families, couples: they were pissed. Have you ever heard an entire audience boo during the end credits? I can now say that I have.