Zero Day (Ben Coccio, 2003) - B
One of the flurry of Columbine deconstructions released shortly after the tragedy; the thesis here is that armchair psychoanalysis of Harris and Klebold, labeling them angry goth outcasts and blaming violent video games and heavy metal music for stoking their rage, is embarrassingly facile and wrong. Obviously very incident-specific, and the rebuke to the media's treatment of Columbine is a little on the nose (we probably didn't need the scene of Andre and Calvin throwing their possessions in a bonfire to prevent their latter dissection, or the part where they angrily insist that there are no reasons, so don't look for any), but the effect is genuinely chilling -- and probably far closer to the "truth" than the conventional understanding (or lack thereof) of the Columbine perpetrators. The video diary gimmick doesn't quite work (there are some contrivances to justify why such-and-such is being recorded, as there usually are in movies like this), but Coccio pulls it off better than, say, the unjustly acclaimed My Suicide, which cheated left and right. He has a flair for effortless naturalism, too; casual conversations and momentary appearances by supporting players (parents; cousins; a girlfriend) ring totally true, as does much of Andre and Calvin's showboating for the camera. Their hip, knowing casualness (striking poses and calling themselves the "Army of Two") seems forced at first, but finally makes total sense; there are hints that they are motivated by petty revenge (bullying, being ignored, the like), but the movie never posits it as a "cause," and suggests that it may just be rationalization. Coccio speculates that they're really after transcendence and escape -- being a part of something awful and grand -- but ultimately doesn't insist on any interpretation. Obvious counterpoint is Gus Van Sant's Elephant; Zero Day is less artful, but more convincing.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Lymelife
Lymelife (Derick Martini, 2009) - C+
A shame that this doesn't really go anywhere interesting, because it has a jittery, nervous energy I enjoyed, and some unhinged moments that set it apart from your typical suburban malaise dramedy, at least for a while. Best part is the central family dynamic -- a hurricane of discontent, with rare rays of love and affection peeking through the thunderheads. But the Alec Baldwin character is more of a concept ("self-absorbed obsessive status-seeker") than a human being, some of the coming-of-age stuff is a standard-issue drag, the crazy Timothy Hutton thing is a bust, and the last act loses urgency despite Martini's best efforts. Probably still worth it for some gripping stretches and nice performances, including a beautifully layered one from Jill Hennessy, and a wired, volatile one from Kieran Culkin, who really should work more. Also, the trailer for this movie gives away far too much.
A shame that this doesn't really go anywhere interesting, because it has a jittery, nervous energy I enjoyed, and some unhinged moments that set it apart from your typical suburban malaise dramedy, at least for a while. Best part is the central family dynamic -- a hurricane of discontent, with rare rays of love and affection peeking through the thunderheads. But the Alec Baldwin character is more of a concept ("self-absorbed obsessive status-seeker") than a human being, some of the coming-of-age stuff is a standard-issue drag, the crazy Timothy Hutton thing is a bust, and the last act loses urgency despite Martini's best efforts. Probably still worth it for some gripping stretches and nice performances, including a beautifully layered one from Jill Hennessy, and a wired, volatile one from Kieran Culkin, who really should work more. Also, the trailer for this movie gives away far too much.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
The Mysteries of Pittsburgh
The Mysteries of Pittsburgh (Rawson Marshall Thurber, 2009) - C+
Mystified by the contempt for this perfectly watchable adaptation. Familiar story -- a kid breaks free from his tyrannical gangster father during the Summer That Changed Everything -- is told with feeling; the key is that Art not only asserts his independence but sheds his paralyzing indifference (the first dinner conversation with dad and the subsequent encounter with Momo are key), which is a more engaging and less clichéd journey. I don't think the love triangle has the depth that Thurber would like (all the talk about "saving" Cleveland is idle, really, except in the immediate sense of saving him from thugs), and the action climax is stupid, but the movie is likably earnest and admirable in its refusal to blow things out of proportion (I'm not sure I've ever seen a mainstream film treat an ostensibly straight character's bisexual experimentation so matter-of-factly). And Peter Sarsgaard is typically awesome. Crumbles in the last 15 minutes, which are a tone-deaf trainwreck, but the whole is far better than the weirdly dire reviews suggest.
Mystified by the contempt for this perfectly watchable adaptation. Familiar story -- a kid breaks free from his tyrannical gangster father during the Summer That Changed Everything -- is told with feeling; the key is that Art not only asserts his independence but sheds his paralyzing indifference (the first dinner conversation with dad and the subsequent encounter with Momo are key), which is a more engaging and less clichéd journey. I don't think the love triangle has the depth that Thurber would like (all the talk about "saving" Cleveland is idle, really, except in the immediate sense of saving him from thugs), and the action climax is stupid, but the movie is likably earnest and admirable in its refusal to blow things out of proportion (I'm not sure I've ever seen a mainstream film treat an ostensibly straight character's bisexual experimentation so matter-of-factly). And Peter Sarsgaard is typically awesome. Crumbles in the last 15 minutes, which are a tone-deaf trainwreck, but the whole is far better than the weirdly dire reviews suggest.
Friday, April 10, 2009
The Edge of Love
The Edge of Love (John Maybury, 2009) C-
Um. I'm not even sure what the thesis is here, if any, other than that Dylan Thomas was an insufferable lout. Certainly it doesn't work as a character piece, consisting as it does of unpleasant people doing boring things; the basic set-up is a pouty romantic and a needy pragmatist squabbling half-heartedly over a self-centered void, which sure isn't my idea of a good time. Cillian Murphy drops in occasionally and livens things up just by virtue of being an interesting actor, unlike the other three, but this is just brain-stabbingly dour stuff -- who could possibly have been passionate about this portrait of a pretentious starving artist and his two miserable groupies? There's one interesting moment early, when a tender love scene starts to literally fragment to foreshadow the rest of the plot, while Angelo Badalamenti's typically gorgeous score tenderly caresses us, but other than that, yeesh.
Um. I'm not even sure what the thesis is here, if any, other than that Dylan Thomas was an insufferable lout. Certainly it doesn't work as a character piece, consisting as it does of unpleasant people doing boring things; the basic set-up is a pouty romantic and a needy pragmatist squabbling half-heartedly over a self-centered void, which sure isn't my idea of a good time. Cillian Murphy drops in occasionally and livens things up just by virtue of being an interesting actor, unlike the other three, but this is just brain-stabbingly dour stuff -- who could possibly have been passionate about this portrait of a pretentious starving artist and his two miserable groupies? There's one interesting moment early, when a tender love scene starts to literally fragment to foreshadow the rest of the plot, while Angelo Badalamenti's typically gorgeous score tenderly caresses us, but other than that, yeesh.
Monday, April 6, 2009
The Great Buck Howard
The Great Buck Howard (Sean McGinly, 2009) - C+
Tepid showbiz comedy, ambling along predictably without any edge, suspense, momentum, or big laughs. It's leavened quite a bit by John Malkovich's totally singular weirdness (his Shatner-esque rendition of "What the World Needs Now" is pretty priceless) and a few other truly bizarre moments (e.g. George Takei's Regis and Kelly appearance), but mostly it just feels familiar, with a trite follow-your-dreams message that doesn't belong anywhere near a creation as perverse as Buck Howard himself. I have to say though that Tom Hanks' hopeful career brainstorming for his wayward son sounded eerily familiar to me personally. "Wait, get this: entertainment law!"
Tepid showbiz comedy, ambling along predictably without any edge, suspense, momentum, or big laughs. It's leavened quite a bit by John Malkovich's totally singular weirdness (his Shatner-esque rendition of "What the World Needs Now" is pretty priceless) and a few other truly bizarre moments (e.g. George Takei's Regis and Kelly appearance), but mostly it just feels familiar, with a trite follow-your-dreams message that doesn't belong anywhere near a creation as perverse as Buck Howard himself. I have to say though that Tom Hanks' hopeful career brainstorming for his wayward son sounded eerily familiar to me personally. "Wait, get this: entertainment law!"
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Adventureland
Adventureland (Greg Mottola, 2009) - B
Kristen Stewart's a revelation here, inhabiting a moody, genuinely troubled, perhaps depressed character in the middle of a goofy coming-of-ager, and doing it with confidence and poise instead of hysterics. Pairing her with Jesse Eisenberg in starring roles is a bold choice that pays off in spades: the script mostly just calls for a nerdy-virgin-romances-experienced-girl cliche, but Stewart's mesmerizing anger and vulnerability and Eisenberg's obvious intelligence elevate it. Movie's sincere, sweet, and often genuinely funny, though it's better in its looser, free-form moments than when the plot takes over (the whole "Lisa P" bit could probably have been tossed). Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig seem out of place, and the ending's a bit misjudged (the credits should have rolled 5 minutes earlier), but these are quibbles; the movie's smart and interesting basically the whole way through. It seems to have collapsed at the box-office, which is a shame and kind of inexplicable. It's worth your money.
Kristen Stewart's a revelation here, inhabiting a moody, genuinely troubled, perhaps depressed character in the middle of a goofy coming-of-ager, and doing it with confidence and poise instead of hysterics. Pairing her with Jesse Eisenberg in starring roles is a bold choice that pays off in spades: the script mostly just calls for a nerdy-virgin-romances-experienced-girl cliche, but Stewart's mesmerizing anger and vulnerability and Eisenberg's obvious intelligence elevate it. Movie's sincere, sweet, and often genuinely funny, though it's better in its looser, free-form moments than when the plot takes over (the whole "Lisa P" bit could probably have been tossed). Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig seem out of place, and the ending's a bit misjudged (the credits should have rolled 5 minutes earlier), but these are quibbles; the movie's smart and interesting basically the whole way through. It seems to have collapsed at the box-office, which is a shame and kind of inexplicable. It's worth your money.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunshine Cleaning
Sunshine Cleaning (Christine Jeffs, 2009) - C+
An unbearably adorable little kid who talks to the heavens on a CB radio; the old man and his rotting shrimp; Mary Ann Rajskub as crazy blood lady; one-armed Clifton Collins Jr.; "I recommend the pecan pie"; not to mention the entire crime-scene-clean-up-as-therapy conceit: yep, it's a real quirk-o-rama up in this bitch. And it's maudlin, too, with the big thematically convenient revelation mucking shit up at the one-hour mark. But my love for Amy Adams conquers all, or nearly all: she perfectly nails the former-star-cheerleader-with-moxie-and-grit-but-low-self-esteem thing, and her insanely charismatic (yet, somehow, believably insecure) presence just about saves the film. A big step up for Christine Jeffs from the godawful Sylvia; moves at a good clip, with a screenplay that has a few big laughs and some nice subtleties in the earlier scenes (I particularly liked the way the movie lets us piece together the details of Adams' relationship with the Steve Zahn character). A little too immaculately cute for me, but certainly watchable.
An unbearably adorable little kid who talks to the heavens on a CB radio; the old man and his rotting shrimp; Mary Ann Rajskub as crazy blood lady; one-armed Clifton Collins Jr.; "I recommend the pecan pie"; not to mention the entire crime-scene-clean-up-as-therapy conceit: yep, it's a real quirk-o-rama up in this bitch. And it's maudlin, too, with the big thematically convenient revelation mucking shit up at the one-hour mark. But my love for Amy Adams conquers all, or nearly all: she perfectly nails the former-star-cheerleader-with-moxie-and-grit-but-low-self-esteem thing, and her insanely charismatic (yet, somehow, believably insecure) presence just about saves the film. A big step up for Christine Jeffs from the godawful Sylvia; moves at a good clip, with a screenplay that has a few big laughs and some nice subtleties in the earlier scenes (I particularly liked the way the movie lets us piece together the details of Adams' relationship with the Steve Zahn character). A little too immaculately cute for me, but certainly watchable.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Phoebe in Wonderland
Phoebe in Wonderland (Daniel Barnz, 2009) - B
Massively self-sabotaging: making all the kids but Fanning and Colletti little horrors, and all the adults but the parents and Patricia Clarkson clueless caricatures was a huge miscalculation, giving the movie a rigged feel; the fantasy sequences add nothing, as the movie itself tacitly acknowledges; Felicity Huffman's big "I'm mad" speech is laughably theatrical, a quixotic piece of Oscar bait. But Phoebe in Wonderland is so unique and valuable that I was willing to forgive a lot: this is a singular portrayal of mental illness, sympathetic and accessible, but also difficult, uncompromising and uncondescending. The screenplay, meticulously constructed to reveal Phoebe's condition gradually, is partially to thank. But the bulk of the credit must go to Elle Fanning, who gives frankly the most astonishing child performance I've ever seen. I have no idea how it's even possible to get a performance like that out of a nine year-old girl. I was in tears through much of the movie, for all its flaws, so make of that what you will.
Massively self-sabotaging: making all the kids but Fanning and Colletti little horrors, and all the adults but the parents and Patricia Clarkson clueless caricatures was a huge miscalculation, giving the movie a rigged feel; the fantasy sequences add nothing, as the movie itself tacitly acknowledges; Felicity Huffman's big "I'm mad" speech is laughably theatrical, a quixotic piece of Oscar bait. But Phoebe in Wonderland is so unique and valuable that I was willing to forgive a lot: this is a singular portrayal of mental illness, sympathetic and accessible, but also difficult, uncompromising and uncondescending. The screenplay, meticulously constructed to reveal Phoebe's condition gradually, is partially to thank. But the bulk of the credit must go to Elle Fanning, who gives frankly the most astonishing child performance I've ever seen. I have no idea how it's even possible to get a performance like that out of a nine year-old girl. I was in tears through much of the movie, for all its flaws, so make of that what you will.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Taken
Taken (Pierre Morel, 2009) - B+
Completely preposterous in the best possible way -- painted in broad strokes, but in ways that are clever and self-aware: the set-up is that Neeson quit the CIA to rebuild his relationship with his teenage daughter after neglecting it his entire career, and the way the movie establishes this is absurdly over the top, but made plausible by Neeson's humble performance and the screenplay's puppy-dog sincerity. (When Neeson proudly presents his daughter with a karaoke machine for her birthday only to be upstaged by her step dad trotting out a horse, I laughed like a hyena, most likely frightening everyone else in the audience.) It's an off-kilter but believable emotional core that makes the rest of the film truly suspenseful even when it's hilariously unlikely. (Neeson's trick of identifying the villain by voice would have been a dealbreaker in nearly every other movie.) It helps, too, that the movie busts out an occasional moody, sinister flourish, like the climactic auction. Just outstanding entertainment, and rare.
Completely preposterous in the best possible way -- painted in broad strokes, but in ways that are clever and self-aware: the set-up is that Neeson quit the CIA to rebuild his relationship with his teenage daughter after neglecting it his entire career, and the way the movie establishes this is absurdly over the top, but made plausible by Neeson's humble performance and the screenplay's puppy-dog sincerity. (When Neeson proudly presents his daughter with a karaoke machine for her birthday only to be upstaged by her step dad trotting out a horse, I laughed like a hyena, most likely frightening everyone else in the audience.) It's an off-kilter but believable emotional core that makes the rest of the film truly suspenseful even when it's hilariously unlikely. (Neeson's trick of identifying the villain by voice would have been a dealbreaker in nearly every other movie.) It helps, too, that the movie busts out an occasional moody, sinister flourish, like the climactic auction. Just outstanding entertainment, and rare.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
While the City Sleeps
While the City Sleeps (Fritz Lang, 1956) - B-
As noir it's convoluted and all over the place; as a treatise on the downfall of good old-fashioned public-interest newspaper reporting in favor of profit-seeking, frenzied competition, and (most heretically) other news formats it's as best charmingly quaint. Would have been stronger if it were more credible; I just didn't buy that Andrews would set his fiance up as bait without even telling her, for example, or how the villain is ultimately caught; and John Barrymore Jr. is simply ridiculous as the serial killer. All of this is, however, very entertaining and at times hilarious, revealing a droll, deadpan sense of humor I didn't know Fritz Lang possessed; look out for a wonderfully unctuous performance by Vincent Price as an unscrupulous newspaper heir.
As noir it's convoluted and all over the place; as a treatise on the downfall of good old-fashioned public-interest newspaper reporting in favor of profit-seeking, frenzied competition, and (most heretically) other news formats it's as best charmingly quaint. Would have been stronger if it were more credible; I just didn't buy that Andrews would set his fiance up as bait without even telling her, for example, or how the villain is ultimately caught; and John Barrymore Jr. is simply ridiculous as the serial killer. All of this is, however, very entertaining and at times hilarious, revealing a droll, deadpan sense of humor I didn't know Fritz Lang possessed; look out for a wonderfully unctuous performance by Vincent Price as an unscrupulous newspaper heir.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Scandal Sheet; Notorious
Scandal Sheet (Phil Karlson, 1952) - B+
A fantastically entertaining "newspaper noir" -- my first film at Noir City 2009, which has a newspaper theme this year. The central irony -- shameless tabloid journalist kills a woman and watches as his sensationalist rag brings about his own downfall -- is probably a bit too immaculate for me, especially with that groaner of a final shot, but it plays out in a way that's sly, suspenseful, and often hilarious. Subtly stylized, taking place mostly in an insular little four-character universe, with a wonderful contrast between Broderick Crawford's hard-bitten editor and John Derek's ultra-suave reporter; has moments of brilliant wit (the drunk who starts singing loudly as Henry O'Neill's Charlie Barnes attempts to make an important phone call; "a very rare item, a picture of a dame with her mouth shut") and striking beauty (the Hudson river peering out from the end of an alley as the villain does a dastardly deed). Just a straightforward, satisfying, non-guilty pleasure.
Notorious (George Tillman, Jr., 2009) - C+
Not very good at all, but it sort of won me over. First of all there are some towering performances: Jamal Woolard's perfectly convincing title turn, for one, but also Naturi Naughton, dead-on as Lil' Kim, and the incredible Anthony Mackie as Tupac; even the normally bland Derek Luke finds his groove as Puffy. Second, I liked the film's vision of these guys as basically good-hearted but tragically immature, not sufficiently weaned from the streets to handle the money and the power that comes their way; only Puffy, the consummate businessman, had his head on straight, and look at him now. Ultimately it's needlessly sappy and overstated, with atrocious use of voiceover and a style that tries to be propulsive but never finds a rhythm. Might be worth a matinee.
A fantastically entertaining "newspaper noir" -- my first film at Noir City 2009, which has a newspaper theme this year. The central irony -- shameless tabloid journalist kills a woman and watches as his sensationalist rag brings about his own downfall -- is probably a bit too immaculate for me, especially with that groaner of a final shot, but it plays out in a way that's sly, suspenseful, and often hilarious. Subtly stylized, taking place mostly in an insular little four-character universe, with a wonderful contrast between Broderick Crawford's hard-bitten editor and John Derek's ultra-suave reporter; has moments of brilliant wit (the drunk who starts singing loudly as Henry O'Neill's Charlie Barnes attempts to make an important phone call; "a very rare item, a picture of a dame with her mouth shut") and striking beauty (the Hudson river peering out from the end of an alley as the villain does a dastardly deed). Just a straightforward, satisfying, non-guilty pleasure.
Notorious (George Tillman, Jr., 2009) - C+
Not very good at all, but it sort of won me over. First of all there are some towering performances: Jamal Woolard's perfectly convincing title turn, for one, but also Naturi Naughton, dead-on as Lil' Kim, and the incredible Anthony Mackie as Tupac; even the normally bland Derek Luke finds his groove as Puffy. Second, I liked the film's vision of these guys as basically good-hearted but tragically immature, not sufficiently weaned from the streets to handle the money and the power that comes their way; only Puffy, the consummate businessman, had his head on straight, and look at him now. Ultimately it's needlessly sappy and overstated, with atrocious use of voiceover and a style that tries to be propulsive but never finds a rhythm. Might be worth a matinee.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
My Bloody Valentine; Ballast
My Bloody Valentine (Patrick Lussier, 2009) [3-D] - B-
Never thought "charming" would be the best word to describe My Bloody Valentine 3-D, but here we are. Pretty much knew I would enjoy it when I saw the first shot: a blaring (and three-dimensional!) newspaper headline reading "BURIED ALIVE!" -- precisely the sort of silly grand gesture that makes me sit up and pay attention. What follows is an exuberant throwback to slasher flicks of old, set in a small mining town where everyone knows one another, with a goofy soap opera storyline stringing together the pickax impalements. Not remotely scary, ending is a not-terribly-clever cheat, and the 3-D doesn't really work (the background is flat and the foreground looms, which is the worst possible use of the technology; there's a scene where someone gets impaled through the head from the back, and it looks like the pole goes at a 45-degree angle), but I was willing to forgive all that for the sake of (for example) a scene where the female lead attacks the masked killer with frozen poultry.
Ballast (Lance Hammer, 2008) - B-
Went back and forth on the grade, but ultimately I think this is a bit affected, with Hammer's determination to disrupt conventional storytelling and screenwriting rhythms having the effect of making the characters (and the film) weirdly catatonic (and stupid: did those thugs pull over the woman and her son just to punch them in the face? I thought they'd at least take the car). It is otherwise an engaging, bleak, hopeful slice-of-life, three ordinary characters in a plausibly unremarkable situation, arriving at a simple, unobtrusive we-can-help-each-other message.
Never thought "charming" would be the best word to describe My Bloody Valentine 3-D, but here we are. Pretty much knew I would enjoy it when I saw the first shot: a blaring (and three-dimensional!) newspaper headline reading "BURIED ALIVE!" -- precisely the sort of silly grand gesture that makes me sit up and pay attention. What follows is an exuberant throwback to slasher flicks of old, set in a small mining town where everyone knows one another, with a goofy soap opera storyline stringing together the pickax impalements. Not remotely scary, ending is a not-terribly-clever cheat, and the 3-D doesn't really work (the background is flat and the foreground looms, which is the worst possible use of the technology; there's a scene where someone gets impaled through the head from the back, and it looks like the pole goes at a 45-degree angle), but I was willing to forgive all that for the sake of (for example) a scene where the female lead attacks the masked killer with frozen poultry.
Ballast (Lance Hammer, 2008) - B-
Went back and forth on the grade, but ultimately I think this is a bit affected, with Hammer's determination to disrupt conventional storytelling and screenwriting rhythms having the effect of making the characters (and the film) weirdly catatonic (and stupid: did those thugs pull over the woman and her son just to punch them in the face? I thought they'd at least take the car). It is otherwise an engaging, bleak, hopeful slice-of-life, three ordinary characters in a plausibly unremarkable situation, arriving at a simple, unobtrusive we-can-help-each-other message.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Charly
Charly (Ralph Nelson, 1968) - C+
So there I was, admiring the movie's straightforward, unadorned feel -- which, oddly enough, makes Cliff Robertson in "full retard" mode a less grating presence by not drawing attention to it -- when it went off the deep end on me. I suppose the stylistic fireworks that ultimately dominate were necessary to obfuscate the fact that the movie doesn't really have time to tell this story properly. The last 40 minutes are a mad dash to the finish, with the central romance essentially confined to a brief abstract montage, the big diatribe against modernity coming out of nowhere, and the nightmarish (and frankly ridiculous) fantasy "chase" sequence evaporating as abruptly as it begins. The ending does work, and the whole thing can be read as a metaphor for humanity in general (the human species emerges from the ooze and gets to the point where it can consider its own consciousness and intelligence, only its technological progress threatens to send it back to the stone age), but this called for a more patient, less emphatic approach.
So there I was, admiring the movie's straightforward, unadorned feel -- which, oddly enough, makes Cliff Robertson in "full retard" mode a less grating presence by not drawing attention to it -- when it went off the deep end on me. I suppose the stylistic fireworks that ultimately dominate were necessary to obfuscate the fact that the movie doesn't really have time to tell this story properly. The last 40 minutes are a mad dash to the finish, with the central romance essentially confined to a brief abstract montage, the big diatribe against modernity coming out of nowhere, and the nightmarish (and frankly ridiculous) fantasy "chase" sequence evaporating as abruptly as it begins. The ending does work, and the whole thing can be read as a metaphor for humanity in general (the human species emerges from the ooze and gets to the point where it can consider its own consciousness and intelligence, only its technological progress threatens to send it back to the stone age), but this called for a more patient, less emphatic approach.
Bride Wars
Gonna make an honest effort to get back into posting capsules here regularly. God help me.
Bride Wars (Gary Winick, 2009) - C
30 minutes in: "I actually kind of like this." 60 minutes in: "Uhhhhh..." 80 minutes: "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck." Offers some nice moments, which is more than I ever expect from these utilitarian rom-coms, e.g. Chris Pratt's proposal to Hathaway, with him explaining why he decided to propose on their couch rather than somewhere more glamorous; the lovely, fleeting pay-off to Hathaway's fretting about wearing her mom's wedding dress. And much of the cast is so charming that the movie's never too painful, although when I realized why Bryan Greenberg was in the movie despite having like seven minutes of screentime I kind of wanted to walk out (it might be the clearest illustration of the Law of Economy of Characters that I've ever seen). The movie gets clumsier and (even) less interesting as the central rivalry intensifies, and the resolution is just embarrassingly shoddy, desperate as it is to leave everything neat and squeaky clean. Not remotely worthwhile, but I've seen worse, and Kate Hudson as a Ropes & Gray "associate" is kind of a hoot.
Bride Wars (Gary Winick, 2009) - C
30 minutes in: "I actually kind of like this." 60 minutes in: "Uhhhhh..." 80 minutes: "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck." Offers some nice moments, which is more than I ever expect from these utilitarian rom-coms, e.g. Chris Pratt's proposal to Hathaway, with him explaining why he decided to propose on their couch rather than somewhere more glamorous; the lovely, fleeting pay-off to Hathaway's fretting about wearing her mom's wedding dress. And much of the cast is so charming that the movie's never too painful, although when I realized why Bryan Greenberg was in the movie despite having like seven minutes of screentime I kind of wanted to walk out (it might be the clearest illustration of the Law of Economy of Characters that I've ever seen). The movie gets clumsier and (even) less interesting as the central rivalry intensifies, and the resolution is just embarrassingly shoddy, desperate as it is to leave everything neat and squeaky clean. Not remotely worthwhile, but I've seen worse, and Kate Hudson as a Ropes & Gray "associate" is kind of a hoot.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)