Danny DeVito, Matthew Broderick, Kristin Davis, Kristin Chenoweth. Holiday comedy. Written by Matt Corman & Chris Ord and Don Rhymer. Directed by John Whitesell.
Danny DeVito, Matthew Broderick, Kristin Davis, Kristin Chenoweth. Holiday comedy. Written by Matt Corman & Chris Ord and Don Rhymer. Directed by John Whitesell.
PREVIEW REVIEW: First off, those involved in this film are talented people and I love the opening shot as the camera passes over a snowcapped mountainside to suddenly reveal a peaceful, Christmas-decorated hamlet. It’s like a Hallmark Card. Of course, from the theater trailer, we know things are not going to remain cozy and warm for much longer. At this point, I’m still as excited as a kid on Christmas morn. Then comes the first joke. The mayor of our quaint little setting tells Steve a secret about the police chief being a cross-dresser. Hmmm, that seems like a strange first joke for a film aimed at the family. Suddenly, I’m visualizing parents throughout America’s dimmed movie theaters having to respond to, “Daddy, what’s a cross-dresser?”
A few minutes later, Danny and his wife (played by Danny DiVito and Kristin Chenoweth) are introduced. They are stealing Steve’s paper while introducing themselves. That’s kind of funny. However, Kristin is, shall we say, bursting forth. In most subsequent scenes Ms. Chenoweth is decked out with equally low cleavage apparel that offers up her breasts like two baked squabs. Understand, I have nothing against squabs, I just thought their presentation here was another unusual choice for a family film.
Then sprinkled throughout this yuletide nonsense is the inclusion of several sexual innuendoes topped off by three 15-year-old girls gyrating in abbreviated Santa suits on a public stage as if performing a holiday-themed pole dance. Of course, this is played for laughs, as Steve and Danny view it while hurling sexual entandres, unaware that the three mini-skirted Santa’s helpers are their daughters. Next scene, the men are standing in a Catholic church, washing out their eyes with holy water. For what they’ve just seen, Steve proclaims, “I’m going to hell.”
Well, maybe not hell, but those involved in this production deserve a little time in purgatory.
Besides the sexual humor, which includes jokes about the teenaged girls being promiscuous and seeing the cross-dressing sheriff in bra and thong, there’s the rest of the film’s humor, which occasionally hits the right note, but too often falls flat. And though there is the inclusion of two Christmas carols proclaiming Christ as savior, this positive is lost due to the falseness of every other emotion displayed. But even worse is the fact that this is an unfunny comedy.
The humor of seeing a guy bested at every turn by the frustrating nutcase that has recently moved to town is tricky business. Directed with a heavy hand, which they are here, the vengeance visuals can come across as mean-spirited, more unnerving than funny. The delivery of these sight gags by writer, director and cast tends toward the sadistic (it’s hard to laugh at a guy’s Christmas tree catching fire and nearly burning down the house). This revenge-that-backfires humor has worked for Broderick before (The Cable Guy, Election) and DeVito (well, DeVito is usually the frustrating nutcase), but here every single gag has been done before and with far more sparkle.
I’ve said it a hundred times: no one sets out to make a bad movie. But every time I generously offer up that statement, a film like Deck the Halls comes along to challenge the theory. DeVito does DeVito, which is fine, but he seems to be drifting through each scene with all the profundity of a snowfall that won’t stick. And poor Matthew Broderick summons up the same stodgy characterization he’s used in every film post Ferris Bueller, this one more unfunny and unlikable than any previous incarnation.
As for the ladies, Kristin Davis (The Shaggy Dog) and Kristin Chenoweth (RV) play what amounts to Alice and Trixie. Indeed, Ms. Davis seems to be making a career out of playing the wise but put-upon housewife. And the kids are about as memorable as Rudolph’s fellow reindeer.
Like I said at the top, these are talented people, so we do get a few laughs. But for a comedy to work, every aspect of the filmmaking process must commingle like spices in a freshly baked pumpkin pie. Sadly, the end result of Deck the Halls is half-baked. That’s what we have here – a half-baked Christmas pie. And two squabs.
Distributor: 20th Century Fox
FILM SYNOPSIS: A documentary of the singing group the Dixie Chicks. Co-directed by Barbara Kopple and Cecilia Peck and released by the Weinstein Co. A thrown-away comment spoken at a concert in England about being ashamed that President Bush came from Texas changed the course of a successful female singing group. At first, the offense brought disaster, as fans demanded the Chicks be pulled from radio play. But as the tide of acceptance turned against the President, so did the recovery for a group that claims to be one of the biggest sellers in music history.
PREVIEW REVIEW: Just can’t get enough Bush bashing? Then here’s another documentary from the left-wing of Tinseltown you may enjoy. Though Natalie Maines has every right to vent her frustration with the political world, the documentary showcases the songstress’s anger, egotistical temperament and unforgiving spirit. Successful, rich and somewhat attractive, the over-the-MTV-hill singer radiates hostility for Toby Keith, President Bush, Texas radio stations and fans who are no longer fans.
The intimate back-scene documentary manages to paint a positive image of the singer for some, while showing others an unrepentant woman who seems fueled by anger. What I found most revealing was the fact that Ms. Maines, with her artist-gone-wild attitude, displays a crudity one would associate more with rocker Tommy Lee. Her language and bitter demeanor are those of what was once referred to by the NASCAR crowd as “trailer trash.” Of course, her f-word punctuated communication skills are now considered attributes for liberated female pop stars.
Distributor: The Weinstein Co.
Anthony Hopkins, Demi Moore, Sharon Stone, Lindsay Lohan, Elijah Wood, William H. Macy, Helen Hunt, Christian Slater, Heather Graham, Laurence Fishburne, Freddy Rodriguez, Nick Cannon, Emilio Estevez, Martin Sheen, Shia LaBeouf, and ever other Democrat in Tinseltown (we’re talking big cast). Biography. Written & directed by Emilio Estevez.
Bobby revisits the night Robert F. Kennedy was gunned down at the Ambassador Hotel in 1968. With an incredible ensemble cast portraying fictionalized characters from a cross-section of America, the film follows 22 individuals who are all at the hotel for different purposes but share the common thread of anticipating Kennedy’s arrival at the primary election night party, which would change their lives forever. This historic night is set against the backdrop of the cultural issues gripping the country at the time, including racism, sexual inequality and class differences.
One of the best films of the year, Bobby is downright profound. Though some conservatives may have feared that this was just a tribute to a member of the Democratic party, such is not the case. Kind of a Grand Hotel built around the ideals of R.F.K.’s bid for his party’s presidential candidacy, the story(ies) concern(s) the lives of famous and non, each character caught up in a revolutionary era of change. As for the salute to the Democratic party, keep in mind it was a very different party, with a much different agenda back in the ‘60s. John F. Kennedy once said, “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.” That’s not exactly the motto of either party nowadays. In the film, Robert is heard gently rebuking people in our nation for not helping their fellow Americans. He saw great need here, with many people struggling with poverty and ignorance. Today, both parties seem more determined to help other countries before caring for their own citizenry.
There is a scene with Laurence Fishburne as a chef in the hotel restaurant that is one of the best written and revealing I can remember ever viewing on film. I won’t give it away, but it has to do with how prejudice can be defeated in our country. Very moving. While Mr. Fishburne is only a member of an ensemble, it being a small part at that, his performance is filled with dignity, strength and wisdom. The part is both well written and acted with a subtlety only a great actor can generate.
A word must also be said about the film’s writer/director, Emilio Estevez. I hope his past association with a group of actors known as the Brat Pack won’t stick in the minds of those who vote for awards. Here are some descriptions that come to mind when assessing his work here: exuberant, erudite, with a passionate visual and narrative drive. He has done a job filled with heart, a heart obviously pounding with a desire that justice and goodness be restored to the political scene.
A few years back I was able to visit the Lincoln Memorial in D.C. On a Saturday night, 11:45 p.m., I stood alone, looking up at Mr. Lincoln. I remember thinking as I descended those steps, “How could a politician stand before this memorial and not be moved to do his best?” Evidently, many of them don’t go there. The film in its subtle way reminds us that while we once had the likes of Adams, Jefferson, Washington, Lincoln, Roosevelt and Reagan in the main office, now we seem to vote for the lesser of two evils.
Distributor: MGM
Heath Ledger. Written & directed by Neil Armfield. Drama.
From Australia comes this powerful, hard to view portrait of a couple who quickly slide into the nightmarish world of cocaine use. Several dynamic performances bring home the film’s message – drugs destroy the soul.
Man, this was difficult to view. Along with the R-rated content of graphic sex and continual use of obscene language, we see two beautiful young people degenerate into creatures whose only ambition is the next fix. They will lie, use, steal and threaten both strangers and loved ones in her to get that high.
Throughout my career as a film reviewer I have maintained a --- of not telling you to go to a movie or stay away from it. I believe my opinion, the story’s synopsis and the content description should aid readers in the decision whether or not to support a film. Since this is such an important support matter, I will offer up the following advice. (First, read the content.)
I once heard that that the first use of (cocaine or heroin, I can’t remember which) is the greatest high you’ll ever experience. And that people will spend the rest of their lives seeking that same high from that drug and never quite achieving it. Perhaps that is propaganda. But seeing and hearing of countless lives destroyed by such addition would indicate that there is truth to that platitude. Parents can talk to their kids until they are blue in the face, the resulting promise “I won’t do drugs” being forsaken sometimes in the same day. A picture is worth a thousand words. And if I thought that this film might keep some teen from that first time experiment, I’d say take them to it. If I had a teenager, I’d take him or her to this film. It just might scare the temptation out of them. You know I don’t want kids being subjected to profane language and graphic sexuality in movies. But if this depiction would aid in their resistance to the peer pressure of drug use, then I think this exception would be worth it.
Today’s audiences are willing to accept graphic portrayals of a self-destructive lifestyle with content that beats up the viewer as much as the actor. Here are two gut wrenching films that deal with addiction, but lack the objectionable language and detailed sexual situations.
Days Of Wine and Roses. A drunk marries and their lives descend into alcoholism, with one later finding sobriety. Writing, directing and acting (Jack Lemmon, Lee Remick) all extraordinary, with poignant ending.
The Man with the Golden Arm. Frank Sinatra plays a convincing junkie and we sense the dark hole a drug addict lives in. It is a horrifying examination of addiction.
Distributor: Dendy Films
Cast: Daniel Craig, Judi Dench. Action adventure. Written by Neal Purvis, Robert Wade, Paul Haggis. Directed by Martin Campbell.
The twenty-first James Bond film has a new 007 (Daniel Craig) in the first story written by Ian Fleming. Touted as the most original Bond ever, it tells how Mr. Bond got his job.
James Bond’s first “007” mission leads him to Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen), banker to the world’s terrorists. In order to stop him and bring down the terrorist network, Bond must beat Le Chiffre in a high-stakes poker game at Casino Royale. Bond is initially annoyed when a beautiful British Treasury official, Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) is assigned to deliver his stake for the game and watch over the government's money. But as Bond and Vesper survive a series of lethal attacks by Le Chiffre and his henchmen, a mutual attraction develops.
This film is a good example of why I hate giving pluses and minuses when it comes to the merits of a film. While I can objectively praise a film for its technical and artistic merits, some may feel that my honest opinion of those achievements is an endorsement. Come on, folks, it’s James Bond; I’m not going to attempt to promote James Bond. Though he’s fictional, he is brutal, a womanizer and a paid assassin with a penchant for cynical bon mots after a kill. What’s more, there’s usually some sexual imagery that I as a Christian can’t be sending you to. Though it’s okay in the secular world to have casual sex, basically using another person for their body, we as followers of Christ aren’t supposed to be doing that. So, my positive view of the production’s quality should not be misinterpreted as promotion. That said, this Bond is the best Bond ever.
The debonair and dangerous British secret agent is now played by Daniel Craig. From his previous roles and the fact that he’s blonde with blue eyes, I assumed he was the wrong choice to follow Mr. Brosnan. Once again, class, “Never assume.”
Mr. Craig fits the role to a tee. He’s buff and manly in appearance and able to portray brutal and witty like no one since Mr. Connery. Along with this satisfying casting, the script is a perfect blend of character defining, interesting plot, eye popping stunts, and incredible locales. And while it is still loaded with death-defying situations, there’s another ingredient usually eliminated from the filmed versions of Fleming’s novels – and that’s story and character development. I consider this Casino Royale to be the best Bond adventure since Goldfinger.
Well produced, well photographed and with lively pacing, the production is simply the perfect movie cocktail. Though suspension of disbelief is still needed by audience members, at least there are no invisible cars (Die Another Day). Even the score works. At one point, I thought, where’s the 007 theme? Then it hit me: “They’re reintroducing us to the character. I’ll bet they’re saving the theme for the end.” Sure enough, before that last shot fades, the big band blasts Bond’s musical entry, sending us all out to our own Astin Martins and exciting adventures on the way back to the suburbs.
I admit, my review is pretty tempting, isn’t it? Well, read the content, and then decide if you should heed the +4 or the -2.
Distributor: Columbia Pictures
Christopher Guest turns the camera on Hollywood for his next film, For Your Consideration. The film focuses on the making of an independent movie and its cast who become victims of the dreaded awards buzz. Like Guest's previous films, Waiting For Guffman, Best In Show and A Mighty Wind, this latest project will feature performances from his regular ensemble, including co-writer Eugene Levy.
The cast includes Carrie Aizley, Bob Balaban, Ed Begley, Jr., Jennifer Coolidge, Paul Dooley, Ricky Gervais, Christopher Guest, Rachael Harris, John Michael Higgins, Michael Hitchcock, Don Lake, Eugene Levy, Jane Lynch, Michael McKean, Larry Miller, Christopher Moynihan, Catherine O'Hara, Jim Piddock, Parker Posey, Harry Shearer, Deborah Theaker, Fred Willard and Scott Williamson. Directed by Christopher Guest and written by Eugene Levy and Christopher Guest, For Your Consideration is a Castle Rock Entertainment Production.
For those of us who follow the comings and goings of the showbiz elite (meaning we who watch Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollywood and the other ten or so daily programs dealing with movie and TV celebrity), Christopher Guest concludes with what we have all suspected right along – the famous are a silly bunch. Mr. Guest’s movie parodies that community with a searing wit, and he takes no prisoners. Every resident of Tinseltown is fair game, from Mary Hart to Charlie Rose.
There are moments in each of Christopher Guest’s films that are absolutely hysterical. Indeed, the take-off on Charlie Rose in this picture is simply genius, as the filmmaker pokes fun at Mr. Rose’s (rambling, verbose, vociferous – take your pick) style of interviewing. But there’s one difference. In the films where he parodies simple folk putting on a play or those who enter their beloved canines in dog shows, Guest shows an affection for those he’s lampooning. It’s an affectionate burlesque. Here, closer to home, Guest doesn’t seem to have the same affection. It’s not satire; this film mocks the inane and pompous in that land of make-believe. But again, I don’t think he’s being mean- spirited. It’s just harder to find affection for those caught up in an artform that glorifies a person beyond all reason.
There are a few sexual innuendoes, and Christ’s name is used as an expletive on two occasions, but generally Mr. Guest builds his satire on wit and insight. The question remains whether the general public will be drawn to this type of mockumentary humor. And many will agree that by his third act, the film loses momentum as it turns somewhat serious. But there are visuals and dialogue that are as funny as anything I’ve seen in a long time. That said, please consider the content before making your decision to support this film.
Distributor: Warner Independent
Voices of Elijah Wood, Robin Williams, Brittany Murphy, Hugh Jackman, Nicole Kidman, Hugo Weaving and Anthony LaPaglia. The film also features the tap dancing of Savion Glover. Directed by Geoge Miller. Written by John Collee, Judy Morris and Warren Coleman. The music is composed by John Powell, and the soundtrack also includes songs performed by Prince, Yolanda Adams, Fantasia Barrino, Gia Farrell, Chrissie Hynde, Patti LaBelle, k.d. lang, Jason Mraz, and Pink.
In the great nation of Emperor Penguins, deep in Antarctica, you’re nobody unless you can sing—which is unfortunate for Mumble (ELIJAH WOOD), who is the worst singer in the world. He is born dancing to his own tune…tap dancing. Though Mumble’s mom, Norma Jean (NICOLE KIDMAN), thinks this little habit is cute, his dad, Memphis (HUGH JACKMAN), says “it just ain’t penguin.” Besides, they both know that without a Heartsong, Mumble may never find true love. As fate would have it, his one friend, Gloria (BRITTANY MURPHY), happens to be the best singer around. Mumble and Gloria have a connection from the moment they hatch, but she struggles with his strange “hippity-hoppity” ways.
Mumble is just too different—especially for Noah the Elder (HUGO WEAVING), the stern leader of Emperor Land, who ultimately casts him out of the community. Away from home for the first time, Mumble meets a posse of decidedly un-Emperor-like penguins—the Adelie Amigos. Led by Ramon (ROBIN WILLIAMS), the Adelies instantly embrace Mumble’s cool dance moves and invite him to party with them.
In Adelie Land, Mumble seeks the counsel of Lovelace the Guru (also voiced by ROBIN WILLIAMS), a crazy-feathered Rockhopper penguin who will answer any of life’s questions for the price of a pebble. Together with Lovelace and the Amigos, Mumble sets out across vast landscapes and, after some epic encounters, proves that by being true to yourself, you can make all the difference in the world.
Distributor: Warner Bros.
Tim Allen, Martin Short. Written by Ed Decker, John J. Strauss. Directed by Michael Lembeck.
The third installment has Scott Calvin (Tim Allen) battling wits with Jack Frost (Martin Short) who is bent on taking over Santa’s yearly job.
The press were invited to a screening of The Escape Clause the night before it opened. This makes it difficult for us to meet deadlines or (as in my case) correct grammar, misspellings and clumsy paragraphs. But this shouldn’t be too painful for you to read as I will keep it short.
How could such talented people blunder a sure fire concept? I don’t know, but this bunch did.
I won’t go into detail concerning the ineptness of this third trip to the North Pole with Tim Allen. Why bother? You will attend no matter how I word my cautions. You have no choice. You have little ones with precious little G-rated entertainment in theaters to amuse them. It will only cause resentment to elaborate concerning the film’s ability to evaporate brain cells with the same proficiency as Beefeaters Gin. To go on about the director’s rhythmless pacing, the screenwriter’s muddy visual sense, and the actors’ redundant buffoonery will only cause you to hate the messenger. I will have warned you about the lame attempt at family-themes and Martin Short’s horrendous parody of Liza Minnelli doing a rewritten version of New York/New York and there is still nothing you could do about it. You are fathers and you were doomed the day you first heard those accursed words, “Daddy, can we go see Santa Clause 3?”
This is the one instance when the Lord will understand your wish to have never left bachelorhood. But you did. You fell in love and on the wings of enthusiasm you brought forth progeny. And now the piper must be paid. Well, with any luck, your better half will take them.
(In an attempt to be humorous I have made light of this film, but please understand, I am not ridiculing those involved. Tim Allen and Martin Short are talented men and no one sets out to make a bad movie. It’s a collaborative art form. But this film appears to be one made merely to cash in on the franchise, with as little effort as possible to make it fresh or funny.)
Distributor: Buena Vista
From DreamWorks Animation and Aardman Features, the teams behind the Oscar®-winning hits Shrek and Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, comes the computer-animated comedy Flushed Away. Blending Aardman’s trademark style and characterizations with DreamWorks’ state-of-the-art computer animation, the film marks a unique new look for the artform.
In this new comedy set on and beneath the streets of London, Roddy St. James (Hugh Jackman) is a pampered pet mouse who thinks he’s got it made. But when a sewer rat named Sid (Shane Richie) - the definition of “low life” - comes spewing out of the sink and decides it’s his turn to enjoy the lap of luxury, Roddy schemes to rid himself of the pest by luring him into the loo for a dip in the “whirlpool.” Roddy’s plan backfires when he inadvertently winds up being the one flushed away into the bustling world down below. Underground, Roddy discovers a vast metropolis, where he meets Rita (Kate Winslet), a street-wise rat who is on a mission of her own. If Roddy is going to get home, he and Rita will need to escape the clutches of the villainous Toad (Sir Ian McKellen), who royally despises all rodents and has dispatched two hapless henchrats, Spike (Andy Serkis) and Whitey (Bill Nighy), as well as his cousin - that dreaded mercenary Le Frog (Jean Reno) – to see that Roddy and Rita are iced… literally.
Flushed Away is being directed by David Bowers and Sam Fell.
When I heard the title, I thought, “Okay, how crude is this one going to be while in the guise of being a family animated comedy?” But I haven’t been this surprised by a film in a long time. It is sweet, good-natured, clean, and very, very funny. It reminded me of the Wile E. Coyote cartoons, not simply because it’s loaded with the same slapstick buffoonery where the pompous and the dastardly get pummeled, but because it is so obvious that the filmmakers are having a blast.
Most animated films aimed at kids, yet desiring to appease accompanying guardians, have a tendency to inject their work with several current pop culture references. In Flushed Away, we not only get these iconic giveaways, but a few that only us old-timers will remember, such as a quick tribute to the ‘60s Batman TV series. One of the funniest comic cameos was a reference to Finding Nemo. As Roddy is caught in a quick-moving flush of water, he passes a small fish who asks him, “Have you seen my dad?” It didn’t get much of an amused response from my screening crowd. I wasn’t sure if that was because it went by so quickly, or if the reference was already dated, Finding Nemo having come out a whole three years ago. But I got it and wasn’t shy about laughing out loud. Indeed, I laughed out loud a lot.
I might hesitate to put it alongside the classics (Finding Nemo, Toy Story, Shrek), but of all the animated films this year (and there were a bunch and still more to come) Flushed Away tickled my funny bone the most. I could tell and loved the fact that that the filmmakers made a point that friendship and family are more important than possessing things. At the same time they follow the standards of Chuck Jones and Loony Tunes – make ‘em laugh.
Distributor: DreamWorks
Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett, Gael Garcia Bernal, Koji Yakusho, Elle Fanning. Written by Guillermo Arriaga. Directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu.
Armed with a Winchester rifle, two Moroccan boys set out to look after their family’s herd of goats. In the silent echoes of the desert, they decide to test the rifle… but the bullet goes farther than they thought it would, hitting an American vacationer. In an instant, the lives of four separate groups of strangers on three different continents collide. Caught up in the rising tide of an accident that escalates beyond anyone’s control are a vacationing American couple (Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett), a rebellious deaf Japanese teenager and her father, and a Mexican nanny who, without permission, takes two American children across the border. None of these strangers will ever meet; in spite of the sudden, unlikely connection between them, they will all remain isolated due to their own inability to communicate meaningfully with anyone around them.
From Alejandro González Iñárritu comes a film that is at once intimate and epic, shot in four countries, cast with actors and non-actors, and concludes his trilogy that started with Amores Perros and 21 Grams.
Babel: A place or scene of noise and confusion. That only partly describes the movie with that title. It’s also long, violent, pornographic and excessive. A nonlinear film that goes back and forth and interweaves between what appears to be four separate stories until we realize that the storylines interconnect (like the film Crash), only the connection is vague and unsatisfying – as is the story’s moral.
Intense and well acted, but I have two major problems with this film. One is technical. We are living in the era of the headache inducing unsteady steady cam (a hand held camera). This photographing technique was once used to cause tension, to make the action appear more intimate, more passionate. And it was done sparingly. Now the gimmicky use of a moveable camera is featured in nearly every film, and in this film, nearly every scene. It’s cheaper and quicker to use and cinematographers don’t have to lug around a tripod, but too often it is applied in order to brandish a style.
Second problem. Everything from the strained pacing to the violence to the sexually explicit content is extreme. There are many objectionables in this film (please read the content), but I found the depiction of a sexually provocative teenager most disturbing. One of the storylines concerns a 16-or 17-year-old dysfunctional Japanese girl trying to cope with her mother’s suicide and the seeming indifference of her father. Looking for love in all the wrong places, the girl wears an abbreviated schoolgirl uniform no school would ever allow, one that barely covers her bottom. And if this isn’t titillating enough, there are a couple of scenes where the girl removes her panties, allowing us to see as much as you would in a porno movie. She then makes blatant passes at her dentist, a cop and every other male she has spent five minutes with. She gets stoned and takes off all her clothes, not once, but several times (several full-frontal nude shots). What’s the difference between an X-rated movie and this one? Beats me. Laws forbid the sexual exploitation of underage children in the making of sex films. But in a big studio release, the same imagery can be featured under the guise of dramatic narrative.
Lest my description be temping to those challenged by such sexual depictions, please keep in mind that we are bombarded by sexuality in our culture. But if you refuse to attend movies containing lurid material, it will honor God and the women in your life. Now, I do not wish to come across as hypocritical concerning this subject. There’s no one who appreciates the female form more than I. And it’s not always with just art appreciation that I look. As I grow in my relationship with the Lord, however, I seek to please Him and follow biblical instructions. Jesus said to love God and to love our fellow man (and woman). Though gazing (or lusting) at a provocatively dressed young woman is consistent with the natural man’s makeup, and most likely satisfying to the lookee as well, it really isn’t an application of love for that person. We can’t always be good, but we should keep trying. You listening, Phil?
Distributor: Paramount
Russell Crowe, Albert Finney, Abbie Cornish. Written by Marc Klein. Directed by Ridley Scott.
London-based Investment expert Max Skinner (Crowe) visits Province to sell a small vineyard he has inherited from his late uncle. As Max reluctantly settles into what ultimately becomes an intoxicating new chapter in his life, he encounters a beautiful California woman who also lays claim to the property.
For those of you desperate for a romantic comedy during this season of chainsaw horror and Santa vs. Jack Frost flicks, here’s one that takes place in France’s beautiful wine country. There’s just one little problem. No actually, there are several problems. Let’s start with the first one – its star. The night before I saw the 60 Minutes interview with Mr. Crowe – or what could best be described as damage control. Russell Crowe is a superb actor and has chosen some great roles (L.A. Confidential, Cinderella Man, Master and Commander, A Beautiful Mind), but his gangster-like bullying off camera has not ingratiated the actor to American audiences. Years ago, Demi Moore attempted to play Hester Prim in The Scarlet Letter. This was the definitive miscasting. In roles before and after, she bombarded viewers with most every inch of her physique and displayed a vocabulary much like that of Howard Stern. People couldn’t accept her in a prim and proper role. She has evidenced in her roles and magazine covers that she doesn’t do prim and proper. Same goes for the phone-throwing hot-head Russell Crowe. It’s difficult to accept him in a light-hearted romantic comedy. Though I admit he has very good timing, there’s more to romantic comedy than a quick wit. He’s one of those actors that brings his personal baggage to a role. That works when you’re playing a rogue cop or a down on his luck pugilist, but not so much when he tries to play cultured.
Sadly, there’s no real arc to his role or a convincing one to the film. Oh, he’s a self-centered, money-is-all city boy who learns about love and the pros of living on a Procencial vineyard rather than continue to be a wheeler dealer (especially when you can leave that occupation with a huge bonus from your employer), but I was not convinced that he was now a better person. Just a very lucky one. (He gets a bunch of money, a picturesque estate and the prettiest girl in the South of France.)
The movie starts out slowly, somewhat imitating Under The Tuscan Sun, only without Diane Lane’s charming narration. We do get some great shots of the local scenery (both the landscape and Mr. Crowe’s two female costars are lovely), but Ridley Scott (Gladiator, Alien, Kingdom of Heaven) seems lost in this less fierce genre.
I will concede, however, that the film begins to gain momentum in the second half as we get to know other characters and finally become absorbed in the story. But this is no thanks to Mr. Crowe, who is badly miscast and seems disconnected with the other players.
Distributor: 20th Century Fox
Will Ferrell, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Dustin Hoffman, Queen Latifah, Emma Thompson. Comedy. Written by Zach Helm. Directed by Marc Forster.Will Ferrell plays Harold Crick, an IRS agent whose world is turned upside down when he begins to hear his life being chronicled by a narrator only he can hear. The Narrator (Emma Thompson) is struggling to complete her latest and best book, unaware that her protagonist is alive and uncontrollably guided by her words. Fiction and reality collide when the bewildered Harold hears the Narrator say that events have been set in motion that will lead to his imminent death.
Harold seeks help from an eccentric professor (Dustin Hoffman) and finds comfort in a burgeoning romance with a defiant audit subject (Maggie Gyllenhaal), as the Narrator gets assistance from Penny Escher (Queen Latifah) to hurry her book along.
There are now two styles of Will Ferrell movies: comedies where he runs around in at least one scene dressed only in baggy underwear and comedies where he doesn’t (those being in the minority). Stranger Than Fiction is an example of the latter.
Mostly satisfying, thanks to the engaging performances, but the idea, though clever, strains that portion of our brain that must suspend disbelief. It does produce funny moments and a sensitive scene or two, and it is nice to see a comedy sans anatomical and scatological humor, a mainstay in today’s ha-ha releases, but that said, the film falls short in whatever philosophical profundity may be hidden beneath its Twilight Zone-ish otherworldliness. True, no one seeks movies with a deep message, but it’s always nice when a clever film also bears meaning. About the best lessons here are that opposites attract and a good man should be recognized. Okay, I’ll give you those are pretty good reminders, but anything of a spiritual nature is either too well hidden or, what I suspect, never approached. What’s more, many Christians will find the inclusion of God’s name followed by a curse from the film’s otherwise placid hero irreverent and off-putting. Why is it that nearly all films from this generation contain some form of disbelief or disrespect for the Creator?
Distributor: Columbia Pictures
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