Category: Movies

Kevin Smith, the writer and director, has a genius that is hard to deny. He writes honestly about how he feels, in a plain, straight-forward style. Of course, what he feels is a) a sweet adoring love for the beer-drinking, just one of the guys type women, and b) an adolescent glee at foul language and filthy jokes.

Just like many, many other people (both men and women) of his generation.

“Zack and Miri Make A Porno” made me laugh, and it made me wish I was Seth Rogen, and made me wish I knew a woman like Elizabeth Banks. Every character in the movie had at least one moment where I busted out a laugh. And even though I detected a strong hint of a double-standard (one of the plot points involves comparing the number of other people Zack and Miri get to have sex with in the course of making their porno), I think that that’s simply more Kevin Smith honesty. And, like a comedy is supposed to, it all turns out well.

The plot itself is thin and essentially summed up in the title – but the comedy all comes from the characters themselves.

Two points of interest when I saw this movie: a pair of women, one of whom was dressed head-to-toe in what appeared to be a modern version of a burkha, walked out of the movie after less than an hour. I wonder what, exactly, they expected based on the title of the movie, and why that surprised them? I’m probably assuming that they were Muslim, and I’ll admit to not being very tuned in to religious concerns, but I don’t recall any specifically anti-Islamic jokes in the movie. My thought is that they were turned off by the overall language and tone, though I could be wrong.

At least they didn’t stay long enough to see the shit that happened to Jeff Anderson’s character (who is more famous as Randal from “Clerks”).

Second, after the credits rolled (I always stay to the end of the credits), a couple were looking for something that had fallen out of one of their pockets, and the guy said to the girl, “Tell me something. If I just finished watching a fucking Kevin Smith movie, why is it that most of the trailers were for chick flicks? I don’t get it.” The girl laughed and said she had no clue.

“Choke” is based on the book of the same name by local author Chuck Palahniuk.

I did not see Chuck at the theater.

The movie is a comedy, though a dark one. But the fact that the main character’s mom is dying… and crazy… made it harder for me to see it that way.

By the time Radiohead’s “Reckoner” came up over the end credits, I felt the sting of tears. It’s both difficult and exhilirating to see one’s own dysfunctions displayed, distorted though they are, on screen.

You mean other people feel like this, too?

Damn. I thought I was special.

I mean… yay. Yay?

I’m so confused.

I’ll have to see the movie again.

I often approach movies with a writer’s mind. It’s difficult to turn off the part of my brain that picks apart characters and plot and sub-plot and dramatic tensions and structure. I mean, after a lifetime of training my brain to put all that together in good ways, to use language to communicate those things, well, the habit is ingrained. Instinct, almost.

“Burn After Reading” began as, I believe, and carries its strength from the fact of being, a writer’s movie. Yes, the actors in their roles are excellent, giving their characters humanity in a recognizable but quirky way. Yes, the visual design and look of the movie, and the pacing and camerawork support and enhance the story.

But without the story itself, none of that would matter.

Off-hand comments from early in the film – like George Clooney’s daffy retired Treasury agent’s remark of “Twenty years and I’ve never discharged a weapon!” or Brad Pitt’s slyly given “Appearances can be… deceptive.” – pay off later after the base had been set and the action begins to escalate.

The Coen brothers’ movies often reward repeat viewings, and “Burn After Reading” is no exception, I think. It’s in the attention to details that they shine.

Movies about porn rock!

Just sayin’.

Johnny Depp’s take on Edward D. Wood, Jr. in Tim Burton’s “Ed Wood” is almost unfailingly positive, driven, and, well, delusional. He compares himself to Orson Welles in terms of… well… they both make movies. What Ed Wood lacks is any discernible talent.

Ed Wood (per the movie) accepts the first take on any scene, and rationalizes away any errors, flubs, or disasters. When Tor Johnson (played by George “The Animal” Steele) nearly takes out a set while trying to simply get through a door, Wood replies, “No, it’s fine. It’s real. You know, in actuality, Lobo would have to struggle with this problem every day.”

Even Wood’s supposed dark secret, his cross-dressing, appears to be more of a quirk. At least three times in the movie, Wood claims, sincerely, that he’s never told anyone about this but now he feels he must.

And when, finally, Kathy O’Hara (Patricia Arquette) simply replies, “OK”… Ed Wood has found the acceptance he’s looking for.

My take on the movie is that there really appears to be no subtext. As a biography, there’s no subtlety or hidden messages. It’s all right there on the surface; enjoyable, predictable, simple.

And once again, at the IFR Monday movie night, I failed to win any of the cool raffle prizes. Maybe next week!

Ben Stiller’s comedy career has been on the downslope lately. Without doing the google, I can’t really remember any great Ben Stiller comedies since “There’s Something About Mary” and “Zoolander”. OK, maybe “Meet The Parents”. But those were his high point, I think.

In fact, the more I think about it, great Ben Stiller comedies rely on Ben Stiller sharing screen time with another comedic actor. “Zoolander” had Owen Wilson. “There’s Something About Mary” had, incredibly, Matt Damon – and who knew he’d be great in a comedy? “Meet The Parents” introduced the idea of Robert De Niro being genuinely funny.

And “Tropic Thunder” benefits greatly from Robert Downey, Jr.

Yes, I love Jack Black. The man owns a lightning suit, for fuck’s sake. And Jack Black has many funny moments in “Tropic Thunder” (including, but definitely not limited to, the line quoted in the title of this post). But Robert Downey, Jr. and Ben Stiller are clearly sharing the starring roles in this movie. And that was a wise decision on Ben Stiller’s part, I think.

In fact, this is nearly an ensemble movie. Tom Cruise is so freakin’ awkward and try-hard that I can’t help but laugh at him. Jay Baruchel, of all people, is the straight man, the guy who grounds the rest of the comedy. Nick Nolte’s mumbling burnout nonsense-philosophy-spouting veteran is note-perfect.

Holy fuck I loved this movie. I was barking laughter, looking around at the rest of the audience, seeing that they, too, were laughing just like me, and then giving in to the laughs.

I’ll admit that the main reason I saw “Vicki Christina Barcelona” was to see Scarlett Johansson and Penélope Cruz kiss.

I knew, going in, however, that it would likely be very brief and not the main focus of the movie.

I was correct. Duh. But the rest of the movie was entertaining and made me laugh, as Javier Bardem’s shallow but charming artist seduced two young American tourists, only to be completely upended (and upstaged) by Ms. Cruz.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gYTEWGVYwg&hl=en&fs=1]

Tonight I saw a documentary about a scrub from Wisconsin whose dream had been, since he was 14, to make movies. And how he’d worked all his life to film one, 35-minute horror film, in spite of being up to his eyeballs in debt, and father to three kids with a woman who didn’t want him, and borrowing money from his elderly, frail uncle, and using his jailbird and stoned friends.

And how, after years of effort, he finally did it.

And all through the movie, I kept thinking, “the director of this documentary is more successful than the subject of the documentary.” How twisted is that?

Even though I’ve never smoked pot (OK, once, just to confirm that I don’t like it), I giggled so hard during the first half of “Pineapple Express” that I’m sure others in the audience thought I was stoned.

Stoner humor is some funny funny shit.

Take away the quirkiness, take away the omnipresence of the director’s favorite font, take away the almost painfully composed cinematography and the normal-speed-to-slow-speed-with-decades-old-musical-soundtrack scenes, even take away the constant use of specific actors, and I think you’re still left with a great story in “The Royal Tennenbaums”.

But I like it with all those things, too.