Archive for the ‘DrChocolate’ Category
In the not too distant future, earth’s primary energy source, helium-3, is mined from the surface of the moon by the faceless Lunar Industries. It’s a one-man job to live on the moon and watch over the equipment and the operation. Currently, Sam Bell (Sam Rockwell) is on the tail end of his 3-year stint and is itching to go home to his wife and daughter. (There’s a mild spoiler ahead, but its not a guarded Sixth Sense-style spoiler, it’s the impetus to the rest of the story but feel free to stop now.) That is until the situation goes awry and he fids himself standing face-to-face with himself. Is he a clone, is he crazy, has his isolation turned him into a lunar Jack Torrance? What’s going on isn’t really that much of a mystery but the stroy still remains intriguing.
First time director Duncan Jones (who happens to be David Bowie’s kid – nope, no obvious Ziggy Stardust jokes here) works a rather familiar story (his own) into a interesting space fable that feels more 1970’s than 2000’s and that’s actually, in my opinion, really refreshing.
However, Moon is insulated. Insulated from outside elements like the lunar station where the entirety of the movie takes place. It feels distant and aloof; I was constantly reminded of the glass through which I was watching the movie. The fourth wall was painfully solid. I really wanted in, but felt like I wasn’t allowed. I was entertained and fascinated by it but never felt a part of the events. I wanted to be moved, wished to be moved, by what should have been profound, affecting events but instead I found myself curiously distant and apart.
Rockwell is impeccable and further cements himself into that cadre of underrated, underappreciated actors populated by the likes of Mark Ruffalo, Stanley Tucci and Laura Linney. Watching him debate, sympathize, and reason with himself is remarkable, so much so that I forgot it was actually one actor rather than two. Kevin Spacey’s mannered, sly voicing of onboard computer GERTY – an obvious, wry homage to HAL – is a welcome, almost amusing balance to Rockwell’s performance.
For a low-budget film, reportedly only $5 million, the film has a gritty industrial look that trumps much of what a Hollywood future looks like. The geometric station and the hulking mining trucks and diggers are mechanically and aesthetically functional rather than the now favored spacey clean and smooth. There’s no flair or wit in the designs, it all seems realistic, like the objects design only furthers the function. I found this throwback approach rather refreshing in the face of so much futurized, ipod-like gloss that populates much of the current sci-fi scene.
The film also gets bonus points for a beautiful, often haunting, piano based score that could stand alone as a nice musical piece without the need of accompanying visuals and for also having one of my favorite movie posters in a while.
It’s not wildly original, or groundbreaking and, as stated, is unfortunately emotionally distant but it’s definitely worth a viewing. Rockwell’s turn is something to see, the grimy atmosphere is arresting, and I have a feeling that Jones’ is soon going to be a rather well known name – so you can then reasonably say in your best snob accent, “I liked him before you.” Recommended but expect to remain detached.
Tags: DrChocolate, Moon, Movie Reviews, Sam Rockwell
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DrChocolate sees the movies I can’t afford to see in theaters (apparently including movies I’d rather gouge my eyes out than sit through) so this site can stay current.
Time to get crucified. Any sort of credibility I may have built up with those of you who don’t know me and read Luke’s site and my hyperbole ridden reviews is probably about to dry up. My wife is a fan of the Twilight series, and because I make her sit through such manly fare as Blackhawk Down and because she indulges my penchant for B-movies I have agreed to see the Twilight films with her. Really, New Moon isn’t nearly as bad as you think it would be and it’s miles better than Twilight, which had some fun style but was ultimately clunky and hollow. Additionally, I’m going with a two pronged approach for this review: one addressing the movie itself; second, I’m going to frame that review with my thoughts on the Twilight phenom/backlash itself.
First, the movie: again, it’s not as bad as most of you’d probably imagine. It’s actually entertaining. However, it is by no means a great movie either – just an entertaining one. The trio of actors is functional enough, with the strangely gorgeous Kristen Stewart being the best, despite the frustrating vacillation of her character. All three of the leads are attractive, but in an odd way, each with their own appealing imperfections (Pattinson’s shovel face, Lautner’s caveman brow, Stewart’s general awkwardness) – which to me was smart casting. Their non-traditional beauty makes them interesting and out of the CW-casting-call ordinary – it serves them well during the thin times in the movie. They’re always watch-able and Stewart has good chemistry with both love interests making the love triangle a little more intriguing. Michael Sheen (who’s never less than perfect) steals the movie as he delightfully chomps his way through his scenes as the head of an aristocratic vampire family; Dakota Fanning is pretty game as a sadistic vamp too. With its fair share of contrivances and conveniences the plot is thin (I haven’t read the books) but apparently this is the set-up book in the series, which always means a thinner plot. Overall, it’s not great, it’s entertaining, and I’ve seen far worse movies far more deserving of the derision and hatred that is piled, unremittingly, upon this franchise. That leads me to my next point.
In all honesty, I find the abject hatred of this franchise rather unfortunate. Why? Because I think the hate is almost solely because of the fan base. Teen girls and moms. There’s a thinly veiled misogyny in the contempt for this series. Because it is adored and loved by teen girls and moms it must be awful. Right? Unfortunately, that’s sort of endemic in our critical society. Anything beloved by girls is trite and not of value (look at the user ratings breakdown on imdb.com – I’m positive a large portion of the 14,000+ voters who rated it a 1 did not, in fact, see the film). Think about if for a second. Titanic suffered a similar, vitriolic backlash. While a better movie than New Moon, there was a massive backlash against it once teen girls embraced its romance. Leo Dicaprio suffered the same fate. Guys in my age group, late-20s to early-30s, despised him at the time, almost solely because girls loved him and his Jack Dawson character. Now, not so much; he’s actually embraced by males my age. Why? He’s now made manly movies like Blood Diamond and The Departed and dates supermodels. He’s not in “girly” flicks anymore. New Moon suffers a similar sexist fate. I’m not a card carrying member of NOW and I’m not saying it shouldn’t be viewed critically, where we still might find it very lacking, but rather it shouldn’t be outright dismissed because of its target demographic and fan base. Boy-driven entertainment hasn’t proven to be any better lately than this franchise. The Transformers series is equally vapid and convenient, maybe more so. It is built around simplistic, hackneyed stories and is stuffed with things to make pubescent boys and college age slackers squeal, not the least of which is the ridiculous Megan Fox. They are the boy equivalent of Twilight yet receive almost none of the ire. I admit that the obsession with Twilight is disconcerting and may speak to some larger societal concern, but obsession again is not reason to disregard something. Have you seen ComiCon and cos players lately? If we treated those unhealthy obsessions they way we do a Twilighters fixation we’d have to dismiss Star Wars, LOST, Halo, comic movies and any number of other manias ranging from the good to the awful. If I where to dismiss female-friendly fare out of hand I would miss out on a few things I really have a fondness for. The smart, touching and funny Love Actually. The effervescent pop of the Spice Girls (honestly, reevaluate this girl power act and you’ll find some irresistible pop hooks and savvy song construction). So You Think You Can Dance, while manufactured and manipulative, with its subtext of dance education has help reinvigorate a discipline that has previously suffered a cultural dearth in this country. I just don’t think you can invalidate entertainment solely on judging the fan base; regardless of whether it is done consciously or not.
In closing, is there more worthwhile entertainment out there than the Twilight series? Yes, of course. Is there worse than this? Plenty (The Christmas Carol, the remakes of The Wicker Man and Friday the 13th). Should you see it? I don’t know, I’m afraid many of you have already made up your minds and my review and gender treatise won’t do anything to sway your opinions. Overall, it’s a reasonably enjoyable, if tame and simplistic, movie with some fun moments and performances, but it’s not deserving of the effusive praise nor the raging revulsion heaped upon it’s mild shoulders.
Tags: DrChocolate, Movie Reviews, Twilight
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DrChocolate sees the movies I can’t afford to see in theaters and reviews them, so this site can stay more up-to-date.
Like a bomb itself, The Hurt Locker arrives innocuously enough, but quickly reveals itself as tightly packaged bit of celluloid that seems primed to explode at the slightest touch. It is easily the most exciting movie of the year; and one of the tensest movies I’ve come across. Locker’s savvy white-knuckle vigor is derived from its raw, nervy performances and jittery construction. In my limited opinion it’s in a dead heat with Where the Wild Things Are for movie of the year.
The set-up is simple: A three-man EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) team is stationed in Iraq in 2004. They defuse bombs. The End. New team leader SSgt. James (Jeremy Renner) is an apparent adrenaline junkie who loves putting himself in harms way. Teammate Sgt. Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) is highly suspicious of his apparent recklessness and James makes the already skittish Spc. Eldrigde (Brian Geraghty) even more unnerved. This tense team dynamic is only complicated by their fast approaching discharge date. Sanborn and Eldridge want to go home in one piece and to them James’ unbuckled antics seriously hamper that special goal.
Don’t be turned off by the idea that this is an “Iraq War Movie.” All the didactic moralizing and heavy handed sermonizing from Hollywood about naughty US politics and other such drivel is thankfully absent. If you see any politics, they are solely the ones you bring with you. Refreshingly, it is solely concerned with the three team members and their experiences. In turn the trio of actors are excellent; Renner in particular. In a brilliantly understated performance Renner lets all his conflict boil in his eyes and posture but it rarely surfaces in actions or words; but when it does it is to lasting effect. This calm, cocksure star making turn is arresting and should receive plenty of justified attention come awards season. Anthony Mackie, who has always been wonderfully reliable in his supporting turns, conjures his best performance to date as the pragmatic Sanborn. His older brother chemistry with an equally excellent Geraghty (who was memorable as Fergus in Jarhead) is a huge boon to the films (palpitating) heart.
Director Kathryn Bigelow, who’s always dealt so well with men, manliness, and male egos and emotions, finally delivers the “great movie” her talent has always promised. (That’s not a knock on her because Point Break and Near Dark are rather spectacular in their own goofy way, but this is the step up in quality she has always been capable of delivering.) In kind, how this movie subtly examines the addiction to adrenaline, and plumbs the depths of male familial needs, and the pitfalls of male bravado makes it a home run. Her muscular direction combines with a ragged, jittery camerawork to give the movie a ripped-from-the-battlefield documentary style that serves the action well. Using this style to her advantage, Bigelow ratchets up the tension to sweaty, anxious levels; it’s exhilarating and exhausting watching this movie. Every man, woman, child, phone, goat is viewed suspiciously as a trigger or carrier. Bigelow’s superior sense of action and understanding of men just gives you the feeling she could pimp slap Michael Bay into the third grade and scare Brett Ratner and McG into diapers with a glare. In the best way possible, she’s one of the manliest directors in Hollywood.
All together this isn’t a war movie, in the classical sense. The war is ancillary to the events of the film; the focus is so tight on the three soldiers that the conflcit falls away from the spotlight. Politics are absent, big brass plays no roles, major troop movements aren’t discussed. This must be how it feels to be part of an EOD team, a part of the action but isolated from it, a part of the force but secondary to it. Screenwriter Mark Boal wrote the script based on his experiences as an embedded journalist with an EOD team.
This is a “do not miss” in my opinion. Renner is superb, the direction is top-notch, and the action is the definition of “edge of your seat,” I actually felt my muscles tense and my breath shorten in certain scenes. It’s exhilarating, entertaining, and conversation starting. In short, it’s everything a good movie should be. Watch it.
Tags: DrChocolate, Kathryn Bigelow, Movie Reviews, The Hurt Locker
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DrChocolate sees the movies I can’t afford to see in theaters and reviews them, so this site can stay more up-to-date.
For roughly the past fifteen years I have read Dickens’ A Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve, finishing the fifth stave Christmas morning, matching the stories timeline. I adore the book and am more familiar with its perfectly told tale than probably any other story or book. Additionally, I absolutely love a number of the cinematic adaptations, namely The Muppet’s Christmas Carol (shockingly the most accurate version I’ve come across) and the stellar 1984 TV version with George C. Scott. I tell you this in order to properly frame the following review.
Your opinion of this film will probably hinge on your patience for Jim Carrey and your tolerance for Robert Zemeckis’ elastic-faced, doll-eyed motion capture animation. Unfortunately, my level for both is very low. I find Jim Carrey tedious and this form of animation off-putting and awkward. Due to my love of the source material, however, I decided to put aside my prejudices and see this new iteration.
Casting Jim Carrey as Ebenezer and as all the Christmas Ghosts is the first problem. His Ebenezer is neither good nor bad per se, but it’s a regrettable creative decision to introduce Scrooge as a pitiable, pathetic loner rather than the decisive, hard-as-nails hermit he is in the book. It instantly lessens the redemptive impact of the climax. It’s when Carrey appears as the Ghost of Christmas Past where things really begin to go south. Apparently, Past is a gay Irishman in the midst of an asthma attack. It’s an overwrought and distracting performance that detracts from Scrooge’s melancholy journey into his disregarded past.
That gets to the heart of my issues with this movie. So much of it is overwrought. Each performance seems to be set at eleven with most actors doing nothing more than excitedly declaring their lines at full volume; it is the utter opposite of the multi-faceted performances from Where the Wild Things Are (read my review here). The only performance with any nuance and subtlety, which is not surprising considering his track record, comes from Gary Oldman as Bob Cratchit. (Cratchit also appears to be a hydrocephalic, rendered with an inexplicably large gourd.) The only emotion in the film comes from Oldman’s performances, who also does a bang up job as the ghost of Marley.
Often the animation is spectacular, but too often it is spectacularly over the top. There are certain sequences that are visually arresting, such as Scrooge lighting a match in the dark, Marley’s appearance, and when the specters transition from showing Scrooge one scene to another. Yet too often the movie devolves into Lucas-like “looky what we can do with computers” shenanigans; it’s as if Zemeckis is sitting next to you in the theater, elbowing you constantly in the ribs, going “Isn’t what we did there so cool?” There is a particularly mindless “action” scene with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come (who is terrifyingly imagined as a shadow that flits in and out of solidity) that is a major misfire and is completely disconnected from the rest of the film. In addition, the filmmaker’s insistence on interjecting juvenile “humorous” bits serves only to jarringly disengage the audience from the narrative as well.
Disney’s A Christmas Carol fails in finality because it does the polar opposite of the book – it does not conjure any sort of Christmas spirit or magic, or even joy. It arrives emotionally inert and aesthetically overstuffed. Do yourself a favor, avoid this raging disappointment and rent one of the more faithful and emotionally superior versions previously mentioned. Not recommended at all.
Tags: DrChocolate, Movie Reviews, Robert Zemeckis
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DrChocolate sees the movies I can’t afford to see in theaters and reviews them, so this site can stay more up-to-date.
Where the Wild Things Are is not safe. It is not sanitized. It’s not cutsie and it’s definitely not the product of corporate meddling. In other words its just like the classic book it was based upon. On celluloid, rather than paper, it is a uniquely beautiful film with considerable…for lack of a better term…balls. Spike Jonze has magnificently tread a previously disastrous course – turning a beloved children’s book into a superb full-length feature film. Fiercely original and emotionally unguarded this is easily one of the best films of 2009.
Where previous movies based on children’s books have failed, Jonze, and by extension everyone who contributed to the film – especially screenwriter David Eggers, soars. They smartly keep the subversive verve and raw sentiment of the classic Maurice Sendak book. Jonze, and company, flesh out the rich subtext inherent in those ten famous sentences and use the fantastical framework to expose what it actually feels like to be a child. Through first time actor Max Records, who easily gives the best kid’s performance I’ve seen in ages, you remember the raw edges of childhood. I felt like I was actually inside Max’s head, getting to know him personally. The unbridled joy, the loneliness, that self-imposed pressure to make everyone happy, the fears, the comfort of acceptance, the jealous misunderstandings, and the unexpectedness of the ever-changing world around you – it’s all there, reminding you of why a kid is a kid and how you’ve either lost it, outgrown it, embraced it, or become impatient to it. The film is beautiful in the way it truly humanizes a child’s experiences, treating them with wisdom and grace, and giving them the weight they so properly deserve.
Speaking technically, the movie is a marvel, too. The art direction is superbly abstract and visually arresting. The decision to use nine-foot tall puppets instead of CGI’ing the entire Wild Things (their faces are digitally rendered) was genius. I truly believe that glossily computerized Wild Things would have significantly decreased the emotional heft of their characters and their interactions with Max. Their tactile, fuzzy weight grounds their alternate world making it seem as real to the audience as it does to Max. The voice acting is inspired as well, James Gandolfini is particularly fantastic; the actors don’t sound like they’re on some distant stage vocalizing lines instead they really embody the characters and feel immediate and present.
Jonze, and his singular skills and vision, has created a beautiful, sweet, and yes, wild movie with a deep heart filled with equal parts melancholy and exuberance. Capturing the spirit of childhood, it’s a layered, affecting movie that moved me far more than I thought it would. Immensely recommended.
Tags: DrChocolate, Movie Reviews, spike-jonze
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DrChocolate helps me out with movie reviews from time to time due to my limited budget. The review below is for a movie that contains very graphic and violent scenes. Those scenes are addressed in the review, so read at your own discretion. While I feel his analysis of those scenes and the effect they had on him, the viewer, have value, neither he nor I will be offended if you skip this one.
Previous to watching the French made Irreversible I had read dozens of articles about it, knew all of the deviant, viscous events, but none of it could prepare me for the most gut wrenching, disturbing movie I have ever seen. This French film debuted at Cannes in 2003 and I’ve been daring myself to watch it ever since: well, I watched it and I don’t think I won the bet. By way of a spoiler warning too, a discussion of this film is to reveal much of the plot.
It’s almost difficult to decide where to begin with this cinematic sledgehammer. To call it sadistic, exploitive trash is to ignore its obvious talent and lasting power; however, to call it a masterpiece is to excuse its cruel, sadistic nature and abhorrent authority. Uncoiling in reverse, chronological end to beginning, this tale of revenge and misfortune is not a movie to be viewed, but one to survive. (There should be survivors guilt groups for this film). And I think that fully was director Gaspar Noe’s intention.
The “beginning” of the movie features two men, who we later learn are Pierre and Marcus, angrily scouring a gay S&M club for someone called “The Tapeworm.” Their search ends with the most violent scene I’ve ever seen on film. A man gets his face literally caved in, by the repetitious blows of a fire extinguisher; the camera never looks away. During the beating, which seems to last far too long, I actually whimpered to my laptop screen, “please…stop…” The way the camera hammers down in the same arc as the extinguisher makes the viewer feel like a participant in the beating. There is no way to illustrate the savagery of the scene; it is unrelenting.
Only until after this act of animal destruction, and frantic scenes of Pierre and Marcus scouring the seedy end of Paris for knowledge of The Tapeworm, do we learn that Marcus’ wife Alex, remarkably embodied by Monica Bellucci, was raped and beaten in a into a coma by The Tapeworm. The assault takes place over nine seemingly un-ending minutes inside the grimy confines of an underground pedestrian tunnel. It is unbearable in its savagery. The camera settles onto the concrete that Alex herself is pinned too and never looks away – for nine minutes. I didn’t last that long, I shut my eyes but could not escape the horror of the sounds and the images I had already seen. It is the most barbarous, disturbing, sickening scene I have ever seen on film. Ever.
Why would you subject yourself to such scenes of ultra-violence? The answer, maybe insufficiently, comes in the scenes that follow. As the film distances itself from the savagery it becomes calm, friendly, and at points, beautiful. We see the trio traveling to the party bantering mischievously about sex. We see Marcus and Alex lounging naked and beautiful together in bed, sweet and playful with one another. We also see the simple yet, in hindsight, tragic turn of events that sends Alex on the long walk home and into the tunnel. I will save the last big twist for those brave, or stupid, enough to submit to this hammer blow. The juxtaposition of beauty and depravity, of serenity and barbarity is deeply affecting and jarring. And this is where I find myself mixed.
The movie is profound and vile, effective and despicable, powerful but offensively manipulative. Director Noe can almost be heard in every scene ranting, “I am the director, submit yourself to my whims. I am in charge! And I have a point!” But the acting prowess, especially the deeply moving Bellucci, is without reproach and the technical skill is masterful. Each roughly ten-minute scene is staged with one long, seemingly unedited, take. The cooperation and timing of cast and crew is so impeccable that I didn’t even notice the technique until the film was over and was reflecting on what I had just witnessed. Yet, again, do skill and merit balance unrelenting viciousness and dubious motives?
The message is strong as well, in reverse and told with such a language of brutality, the whole notion of revenge, and action, and horror films is called into question. If told in proper order this might have been a satisfying, but extremely graphic revenge flick. (*MAJOR SPOILER* but even that it is called into question because they kill the wrong guy while The Tapeworm watches *SPOILER OVER*) Yet we are asked to confront our view of violence immediately, without frame of reference, and most importantly, without any reason to excuse, or frankly – enjoy, the beating in the club. The witnesses to the murder make this graphically evident by cheering, encouraging, and one actually masturbating during the beating. The point is as blunt as the extinguisher, but it stuck with me. Deep down I had to ask why do I smile at the savagery of The Hills Have Eyes, why do I laugh when Bond blows up that guy on the runway in Casino Royale, why do I feel joy when Liam Neeson dismantles all those deviants in Taken, or find myself giggling at the gore in Dawn of the Dead. Why am I entertained by violence and revenge? What makes those movies and their violence and manipulation any more reprehensible than this film? It took a good while after surviving this to bring myself to watch any movie with more than slapstick violence. Even now, after moving back to more graphic fare, this movie still haunts the recesses of my mind. I now have to make a conscious decision on whether I’m going to be entertained by carnage and bloodshed. Often, I feel guilty after I do, more than I usually did.
There is also appears to be some very interesting, provocative commentary exploring manhood, machismo, female attraction, and sexual roles. However, it would probably take another viewing or two in order to full absorb the themes and I just don’t think I have it in me.
So is this a good movie? I don’t know, essentially it’s probably a very good one, but I don’t want to admit that. Do I recommend it? Never. Not to anyone. If you want to see it, it is your own, singular decision, do not include me in that process. And do not blame me if you do.
Tags: DrChocolate, Irreversible, Movie Reviews, Violence
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Kyle Terry is DrChocolate and my good friend from college who I asked to help me out with my movie reviews. My budget limits the amount of movies I can see and the good Dr, while having similar taste in movies as me, often has differing viewpoints that I think are valuable to the site.
Coming of Age. Like “sexually active” to Juno, I’ve never really been sure what that means. Regardless, quite a few films have been dedicated to capturing that moment in life and reflecting it back to its audience. Amongst this sub-sub-genre exist a few much-loved classics. The Breakfast Club. Dazed and Confused. Garden State. Among others. Add Adventureland to the list, and in my opinion – put it near the top. Up front and honest – I unabashedly adored this movie.
As with all great “coming of age” flicks, Adventureland made me nostalgic for times I’ve never lived, places I’ve never been, things I’ve never done, and people I’ve never met. I wanted to hit play again the instant it was over. It takes place in 1987 but this isn’t an “80’s movie,” its not a gimmick (again, like all great COA movies) it serves as a reference point and a mindset for the characters. The decade doesn’t intrude but enhances. Despite being accepted to grad school at Columbia and due to circumstances beyond his control, James, effortlessly played by Jesse Eisenberg, must suffer the indignity of working at a rundown amusement park the summer after completing his undergrad. His humiliation soon eases as he bonds with the other ragtag employees including the earnest nerd Joel, immature Frigo, and the beautiful Em. Romance ensues, hilarious mishaps occur, and parents and children disappoint each other. If it lacks one thing it’s that the plot is familiar – you kind of know what’s going to happen from the start, but that in no way detracts from the enjoyment of the film.
Eisenberg and Kristen Stewart (who plays Em) shine and have palpable chemistry, and the supporting cast, including SNL’s Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig, are hilariously, endearingly eccentric, but they never feel like caricatures or sketches. Ryan Reynolds’ caddish maintenance man is perhaps the only main character who suffers from thin writing, but he does what he can with the material. Greg Mottola has written and directed a sincere slice of life and love. It’s hard to believe this is the same guy who made the overrated, overlong, and overly crude Superbad.
I can’t overstate how much I enjoyed this movie. It’s funny, heartfelt, real, and has an expertly used soundtrack, including fantastic use of Lou Reed and Crowded House. This relatable tale of worst summer ever turning to best summer ever is highly, highly recommended.
Tags: Adventureland, DrChocolate, Movie Reviews, Movies
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Kyle Terry is DrChocolate and my good friend from college who I asked to help me out with my movie reviews. My budget limits the amount of movies I can see and the good Dr, while having similar taste in movies as me, often has differing viewpoints that I think will be valuable to the site.
It all seems so familiar. At a young age, South Boston friends mix into the local Irish mob. Drama, grit, bleakness, and crime all conflict with friendship and family. Boston and Boston crime seem to be bravura filmmaking central these days. Yet this one is different, different because it’s true. Different because the story is deeper. Different because it’s about becoming a man. Becoming a man not by exerting confrontational machismo, but by recognizing responsibility and buckling down and doing it for yourself and for those you love.
This is the directorial debut and first screenplay for Brian Goodman. And Lets hope he does more. It’s closely based on his life and experiences growing up in Southie. A haunted, spectacular Mark Ruffalo (why is he not one of the biggest actors in Hollywood?) portrays Brian on film and Ethan Hawke is his rangy, more volatile best friend/street brother Paulie. Tiring of pulling small jobs for a local mobster (Goodman himself, with a menacing pitbull’s presence) the pair starts pulling jobs for themselves, eventually saddling Brian with a fierce drug addiction and the both of them with a prison term. Brian, meanwhile, has two boys and a devoted, but not delusional, wife played by a surprisingly terrific Amanda Peet. Fiscal uncertainty, a damaged marriage, and a distant, guarded son all weigh on Brian, made so vivid by Ruffalo, as faces his options and the true definition of manhood.
Goodman’s direction is assured and calm and balances the gritty plot lines. Having the director be the subject of story clearly goes a long way towards making the drama feel so exposed and authentic. It’s Brian’s (character and director) exploration of manhood, fatherhood, and the bonds of marriage that make this film. Highly recommended. After watching, the making of doc on the DVD is also recommended as you get to hear from Goodman himself concerning the film, his life, and who the two melded together. First-class, overlooked film.
Tags: DrChocolate, Movie Reviews, Movies, What Doesn't Kill You
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Kyle Terry is DrChocolate and my good friend from college who I asked to help me out with my movie reviews. My budget limits the amount of movies I can see and the good Dr, while having similar taste in movies as me, often has differing viewpoints that I think will be valuable to the site. This is one of those cases and has inspired me to write my own review, which will hopefully be posted shortly.
In an effort of full disclosure I’ll start with this opinion: I think Sam Mendes is vastly overrated. As a matter of fact I think he borders on being a hack. He strikes me as drama’s version of Michael Bay; drama for dramas sake, drama for those who don’t know any better. He knows all the paint by numbers for a drama, and every now and then he show flashes of brilliance (Road to Perdition), but for the most part, it all seems counterfeit and overly calculated. With that intro, onto his latest film Revolutionary Road. This impeccably acted drama asks a lot of the viewer. For one, it has no routing interest – both Kate Winslet and Leo DiCaprio are nasty, brutish, ugly people. When first watching this movie I honestly looked down at the time counter thinking I had skipped a scene or three. But no, the movie literally drops you, quite heavily, into the bitter, raging disappointment of a dissolving marriage. The film has that Mendes sterility and distance, like you’re watching everything unfold in a fishbowl where you’re never able to truly connect. I also am constantly irritated by Hollywood’s insistence on using the middle class and the suburbs as metaphors for wasted life and unfulfilled dreams. You do realize that the same people you’re asking to indulge your piousness with their hard earned middle class dollars are those that you are criticizing, right? (Yes, I know this film is based on a book from the 1960’s but my irritation still holds). See that steaming hot mess of overrated self-importance American Beauty for another example.
That’s not to say this movie isn’t without its positives. Winslet and DiCaprio have probably never been better. DiCaprio’s man-boy looks have never served him better than here as an emotionally stunted man-child fearful of his corporate future who struggles with the definition of what it means to be a “man.” The furor with which the two fight and steam and reconcile and fight again is monumental and engulfing. Their fights are cringe-inducing in their veiled, reprehensible brutality. That the actors are able to convey that nastiness with a level of care for each other is rather extraordinary. Michael Shannon as a mentally unbalanced neighbor is frightening and exhilarating as the only individual in the movie that sees the truth in their lives and isn’t afraid to speak his mind. He’s a revelation. The art direction, the submersion into the time, is immaculate as well. However, it still carries the Mendes sheen, where you’re never able to care about two people when it’s vital to do so. That sheen and veneer eventually muddles the performances and the message of the film. I felt like I was watching actors acting the hell out of individual scenes rather than an actual story arc. It’s definitely an affecting piece of cinema but it stays there instead of becoming something significant and powerful, something it could have been. Overall it’s a typical Mendes film, flashes of brilliance, flashes of hack, and some fantastic performances. I marginally recommend it, but again, with reservations. If you like Mendes other films you’ll probably like this.
Tags: Kate Winslet, Leonardo DiCaprio, Movie Reviews, Movies, Sam Mendes
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Kyle Terry is DrChocolate and my good friend from college who I asked to help me out with my movie reviews. My budget limits the amount of movies I can see and the good Dr, while having similar taste in movies as me, often has differing viewpoints that I think will be valuable to the site.
Whiz-bang fizz pop. That’s where director McG excels, and he shows it in Terminator Salvation with many many dogfights, fistfights, and gunfights. I’m sure anybody reading this knows the Terminator back story, so I’ll skip it and dive right in: McG, he of the infinitely vexing moniker, actually acquits himself quite well to the Terminator material and luckily for him, the parts that seem destined to spin off into la-la land are saved by an effectively gritty Christian Bale. The action scenes pop and move furiously, but not without a sense of purpose. They, barely I’ll admit, transcend the Michael Bay action-for-actions-sake vortex, but they plunge, swerve, and explode on a grand scale and are generally effective because you care about the cast. As mentioned, I think McG needs to graciously thank his cast for keeping this movie in line. The performances from Bale and Anton Yelchin as a young Kyle Reese are particularly good. Newcomer Sam Worthington is charismatic as a mysterious outsider (although the previews completely spoiled why he’s mysterious), this despite that fact that he doesn’t do much but glower and fight, though I believe that’s more the scripts fault than his. Bryce Dallas Howard is a victim of the screen writing as well; her role seems ancillary and underwritten. The entire Terminator saga has not come without its fair share of clunky, brick heavy dialogue and some poorly manufactured emotion and this installment is no exception in that department either. However, I ended up liking this movie far more than I thought I would. Recommended for a weekend of surprisingly well-made whiz-bang fizz pop.
Tags: Christian Bale, McG, Movie Reviews, Terminator Salvation
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