The synopsis for My Sister’s Keeper sounds a bit like a tearjerker episode of LA Law with a sci fi twist. It begins when Kate, the two-year-old daughter (Sofia Vassilieva) of Sara and Brian Fitzgerald (Cameron Diaz and Jason Patric), is stricken with leukemia. In an effort to provide for her and prolong her life the couple conceive Anna (Abigail Breslin), a designer baby, specifically to provide genetically matched organs, blood and bone marrow for Kate’s treatment. She is, literally, a donor child; a spare parts warehouse for Kate. All goes well until, at age 11, Anna refuses to have any more medical procedures and seeks medical emancipation from Sara and Brian. Hiring her own lawyer (Alec Baldwin) she sues her parents for the right to decide how her body is used. “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Kate had been born healthy,” says Anna.
There’s a lot going on here but the movie isn’t about the court case, or the test tube baby debate or even the medical ethics. Director Nick Cassavetes (son of indie legend John) wisely keeps the focus on the family, uncovering ideas of love, loyalty and how one person’s sickness can touch everyone in the household.
It’s touching, if occasionally calculating stuff. Cassavetes draws out the ending, pumping up the emotion with a heart tugging score, but despite my feelings of being manipulated My Sister’s Keeper works.
I think it works because of the honesty of the performances. Cameron Diaz as the mother in the fight of her life, for her daughter’s life, sometimes dips into shrill territory, but otherwise hands in the best dramatic performance of her career. Jason Patric, a fine, underrated actor, brings strength and warmth to the role of the father. There’s also nice supporting work from Alec Baldwin as Anna’s slyly humorous lawyer and Joan Cusack as the conflicted judge, but the two stand outs here are the young actresses Sofia Vassilieva and Abigail Breslin.
Vassilieva (she’s Patricia Arquette’s daughter on Medium) is heartbreaking as the young girl who will likely not live to see her prom and gives old pro Breslin, (she’s 13 with 15 movies to her credit!), usually the scene stealer, a run for her money.
Based on a bestselling novel of the same name from Jodi Picoult My Sister’s Keeper is the tearjerker of the year. At the screening I was at people were sobbing so loudly it was hard to hear some of the dialogue in the last twenty minutes or so. Trust me; bring a towel to wrap around your neck so you don’t have to sit in a puddle of your own tears.
Canadian born Nia Vardalos started 2002 as a struggling actress but finished the year with an Oscar nomination. She was the very definition of an overnight sensation. The low budget movie adaptation of her stage show My Big Fat Greek Wedding was the fifth highest grossing movie of the year and became the highest grossing romantic comedy in history. Then came some missteps. A sitcom based on the movie, which one writer dubbed My Big Fat Mistake, was cancelled after just a handful of episodes and an ill conceived (and unfunny) follow-up called Connie and Carla crashed and burned at the box office. And then nothing. For the last four years multi-plexes have been Vardaless zone, but that changes this weekend when her new film, My Life in Ruins, takes her back to where it all began, the Greek Isles.
Vardalos plays Georgia, a neurotic Greek American tour guide who takes groups of, as she says, “obnoxious Americans, miserable married couples and old people” on day trips through Greece. She’s unhappy, unsatisfied and unlikely to improve her love life while trotting through Greece with groups of elderly American day-trippers. That is until she meets Irv Gordon (Richard Dreyfuss) who gives her a lesson in how to have fun and points out that love may be closer than she thinks.
This has been a good year on film for the ancient world. Angels & Demons showed off some of Rome’s most beautiful attractions, and now My Life in Ruins does the same thing for Greece. Good for tourism, maybe not as good for movie goers.
You know there’s trouble when one of the lead character’s names is Poopi Cacas and he has a nephew named Doodi Cacas. I’ll tell you, the character Poopi Cacas isn’t the only thing about this movie that is poopi cacas. A sitcom script that tries in vain to mix comedy with heartwarming doesn’t do anyone any favors, the actors or the audience.
Not once, but twice a character says to Vardalos, “You’re not funny. Stop trying.” If only she had taken that advice. She is likeable, and that gives the movie whatever warmth it has, but her broad comic style is better suited to the stage than the screen. Blown up to feature size her performance is revealed to be made up entirely of rolling eyes and quirky facial expressions. It’s like British pantomime with a Hellenic twist.
No one really survives the film with their dignity intact. Richard Dreyfuss, once the star of classics like Jaws and Close Encounters of the Third Kind is firmly entrenched in the “old coot” phase of his career, and one has to wonder if things had worked out for Rachel Dratch on 30 Rock if she would ever even have considered reading this script, let alone sign on to play an unfunny stereotype.
It would be easy (and snarky) to say that My Life in Ruins should have been titled My Career in Ruins, but you never know, this could catch on with the same audience that made My Big Fat Greek Wedding a hit, but if you do go, go for the scenery and not the comedy.
If you own any DVDs with titles like The Crawling Eye, Mothra or The Leech Woman then a new animated 3-D movie called Monsters Vs. Aliens may be right up your alley. Inspired by the giant bug and alien movies of the 1950s, the new DreamWorks film, starring the voices of Reese Witherspoon and Seth Rogen, is a loving homage to the crazy sci fi films of a simpler age.
When Modesto, California resident Susan Murphy (voice of Witherspoon) is struck by a meteor on her wedding day she suddenly transforms into a 49 ft 11 in creature named Ginormica. Labeled a monster by the American government she is captured by the military and shipped off to a secret government compound that houses other scientific oddities; “It’s an X-file wrapped in a cover-up and deep fried in a conspiracy,” says General W.R. Monger (Kiefer Sutherland).
Imagine an Area 51 for creatures like the insect-headed Dr. Cockroach, Ph.D. (Hugh Laurie), the Missing Link, a 20,000-year-old gill-man (Will Arnett), B.O.B., a gelatinous organism who began life as a genetically altered tomato (Rogen) and Insectosaurus, a 350 foot grub turned monster by nuclear radiation.
The motley crew of monsters is called into service after a UFO lands and an alien overlord named Gallaxhar (Rainn Wilson) demands that Earth be turned over to him. “Humans of Earth,” he says, “my quest has lead me to your planet. Give it to me now! You should, in no way, take any of this personally. It’s just business. Gallaxhar out.”
The country’s highest ranking government officials—including General Monger and the President (Stephen Colbert)—feel that the monsters are the best bet to save the world from looming destruction!
One of the qualifiers I use when reviewing the new crop of 3-D films is to imagine the same movie without the flashy stereoscopy. If I think the movie would hold up on it’s own without the optical effects then it gets a passing grade. If not, then I knock a star or two off the rating. 3-D should enhance storytelling, not replace it.
Recently Coraline earned my highest rating. It’s a beautifully animated film that uses 3-D to augment an already compelling movie. My Bloody Valentine on the other hand, took a bit of a smack down because it mistook special effects for a plot. Monsters Vs. Aliens falls somewhere between the two.
The animation and 3-D in the film is top notch. Unfortunately the outstanding tech side isn’t supported by a strong enough story or interesting enough voice work to place this in the same category as other DreamWorks movies like Kung Fu Panda or Shrek.
With humor aimed at kids, the kitsch factor at movie geeks (like me) and action for teens and young adults Monsters Vs. Aliens is a warm tribute to the mad science b-movies of the 50s that gets much of the tone right, but like the pictures that inspired it, is more fun to imagine than actually sit through.
According to Wikipedia the definition of coma is “a profound state of unconsciousness.” They can be caused by head trauma or any number of phenomenon and they are, as The Smiths sang in their top twenty hit Girlfriend in a Coma, “really serious.” They are also an unlikely inspiration for all manner of pop culture confections from pop songs—both Guns and Roses and Stone Temple Pilots have sung about them—to this weekend’s Miss March, a comedy about a twenty-something who comes out of a four-year coma to find his high-school sweetheart has become a centerfold in Playboy magazine.
This is what I call a Farch Comedy, the kind of movie that only seems to be released in the vast wasteland that is the February-March stretch. It’s a movie so unyieldingly unfunny, so relentlessly insipid it makes Dumb and Dumber seem like Les Amants magnifiques.
Starring two guys you’ve never heard of, and likely won’t hear much from in future, Miss March is one of the most annoying films to come down the pike in a long while.
Instead wasting time by writing a proper review for this piece of crap I have decided to simply transcribe the notes I took during the screening, word by word, minute by minute as I endured this chunk of cinematic hell.
7:15 pm “Utterly without charm…”
7:21 pm “Has all the production value of a Platinum Blonde rock video…”
7:34 pm “The woman next to me said, ‘This is disgusting…’”
7:38 pm “The only thing I can think of more annoying than the character of Tucker would be if James Blunt ever became a telemarketer…”
7:40 pm “This isn’t a story; it’s an idea… and a bad one at that.”
7:45 pm “Still utterly without charm…”
7:55 pm “First walk out. Two women just packed up and left.”
7:56 pm “Buy eggs and milk on way home…”
8:05 pm “The most famous person in the movie—other than Hef—is Craig Robinson, the guy from The Office who was arrested last year for possession of methamphetamine. I wonder what he was on when he agreed to do this movie…”
8:08 pm “Hefner looks like the Crypt Keeper and is obviously reading form cue cards.”
8:25 pm “There is a cringe worthy Crying Game-style revelation that’ll put you off drinking straws forever.”
8:28 pm “I can feel the will to live slipping away…”
Miss March is a bad movie. It’s so bad I had to create new words to describe it: “sucktacular” and “badriffic.” It’s the kind of movie that mistakes asking a formerly comatose man, “How’s that atrophy coming?,” as a cutting edge gag. It’s gag worthy all right, but not in the way the filmmakers intended.
Anyone who thinks that history does not repeat itself need look no further than the new Gus Van Sant film Milk for proof to the contrary. As the recent vote on California’s Proposition 8 proposal to “change the California Constitution to eliminate the right of same-sex couples to marry,” hangs in the air the movie’s story of San Francisco Board of Supervisors Harvey Milk’s 1978 battle against Proposition 6 brings into focus how little has changed in the fight for gay rights. Dubbed the Briggs Initiative, Milk defeated the law which would have banned gays and lesbians from working in California’s public schools.
Sean Penn plays the real-life Harvey Milk, a native New Yorker who, just after his fortieth birthday left behind his conservative, closeted life on the East coast for the more freewheeling San Francisco. “I’m forty years old,” he says, “and I haven’t done a thing I’m proud of.” When he and his lover Scott Smith (James Franco) bump up against the Eureka Valley Business Association’s “no gays allowed” policy Milk is pushed toward political activism. After several failed attempts at running for office, (and adopting the unofficial title of The Mayor of Castro Street), he becomes America’s first openly gay man to be elected to public office after winning a seat on San Francisco’s Board of Supervisors in 1977. His meteoric rise, though, is cut short the following year when he and Mayor George Moscone (Victor Garber) are assassinated by former city supervisor Dan White (Josh Brolin).
In this politically aware time Gus Van Sant has made a biopic about a an important political figure that pays less attention to the biography aspect and more to the issues that came to define Harvey Milk’s life. We don’t meet Harvey until the eve of his fortieth birthday, just as his political awareness was starting to blossom. Eight years later he was dead, so, unlike the recent W., Oliver Stone’s look at George W. Bush’s life, which dug into the president’s past, Milk focuses its energy on the bigger picture of gay rights and how Milk became an icon and martyr for gay pride. Van Sant sets the stage for Harvey’s rise to prominence, effectively creating a sense of time and place with the liberal use of archival news footage and careful attention to 1970s period details. Van Sant’s use of grainy film stock completes the illusion, making this look like an artifact from the 1970s.
Penn fully embraces Milk, from the thick New York accent that characterized his speech to the goofy grin that endeared the real-life activist to his supporters, both gay and straight. (“I know I’m not what you expected,” he would say, grinning, to straight audiences, “I left my high heels at home…”) It’s a strong Oscar worthy performance, but this isn’t a movie about the performances and people as much as it is about ideas. Harvey Milk has already been the subject of several books and the Academy Award-winning documentary feature, The Times of Harvey Milk, so there is no mystery left to the story, but by focusing on the issues and Milk’s galvanizing fight for equality Milk achieves much more than a run-of-the-mill biopic could ever hope for. It’s about passion; it’s about when the ordinary man could bring about change with personal conviction, a bullhorn and no money. It’s about a man who didn’t consider himself to be a candidate, but part of a movement. It’s about a time when a community organizer could make a difference. On that last point, at least, it seems that history does indeed repeat itself.
You had to see this one coming. Any time a movie grosses 500 million dollars a sequel can’t be far behind. So from the same company that brought us Shrek 2 and 3 and the upcoming Shrek 4-D comes Madagascar Escape 2 Africa which sees all the original Central Park Zoo creatures—Alex the Lion (Ben Stiller), Marty the Zebra (Chris Rock), Melman the Giraffe (David Schwimmer), Gloria the Hippo (Jada Pinkett Smith) and, of course, the penguins take another road trip.
As we rejoin the New York-raised zoo animals they are still marooned in Madagascar. When the penguins find an old plane it looks like they might be able to travel back home to America. Unfortunately the plane crash lands far short of their target. This time they end up stranded in Africa, “our ancestral crib,” as Marty the Zebra calls it. They soon discover that despite long lost relatives and some unexpected romance that the African jungle is a much different place than the concrete jungle they’re used to.
Madagascar Escape 2 Africa isn’t a bad kid’s flick, but it suffers from the usual symptoms of sequelitis. It isn’t quite as funny as the first movie, the story feels padded, even at a compact 89 minutes and the situation seems a bit too familiar. Not that any of that will matter to the little ones once they’ve seen the fun supporting cast.
The leads, save for Chris Rock’s hyperactive zebra, are rather bland, so luckily they are supported by lively and colorful secondary characters. Sacha Baron Cohen of Borat fame plays King Julien, the dramatic lemur monarch. His slapstick antics should amuse kids but his sly double entendres are aimed directly at adults. He has a funny, and possibly slightly inappropriate, line about almonds and a silver platter that’ll fly high over the tot’s heads but wake up their parents. In fact, the movie is peppered with lines referring to Darwinism and union trade talks that are clearly calculated to widen the movie’s appeal to all members of the family.
Kids will like the lemur, but they will love the penguins. Penguins are the new dogs. Not since the heyday of dog movies like Benji and Lassie has one species won over the hearts of so many. March of the Penguins was a left field hit a few years ago and an R-rated parody of that movie, Farce of the Penguins, soon followed. The little furry birds have also appeared in Happy Feet, the 3-2-1 Penguins series and even something called Penguins Behind Bars. Everybody loves penguins, and in Madagascar Escape 2 Africa their gangster shenanigans are the highlight of the movie. Next—a third Madagascar movie is already in the works—hopefully Dreamworks will pull back on the bland Alex the Lion character and focus on the penguins.
Madagascar Escape 2 Africa is a family friendly movie with slapstick for the kids and slightly more sophisticated jokes for the adults.
I often find Spike Lee’s work very frustrating. I usually like fifty percent of each movie, but then there’s the remaining fifty percent that just infuriates me. It’s not bad filmmaking; it’s just unnecessary filmmaking. While the stuff that’s good is really, really good I find a lot of material in his films that doesn’t further the story, that is preachy, and simply doesn’t belong there. At almost three hours his new film, the World War II drama Miracle at St. Anna, is simply the latest in a long line of Lee’s films that could benefit from judicious editing.
Based on the novel of the same name by James McBride, Miracle at St. Anna tells the story of four African-American soldiers from the all-black 92nd Infantry Division fighting in the Italian Campaign. When one of them risks his life to save an Italian boy the four get trapped near a small Tuscan village.
The bones of the story were, in part, inspired by the August 1944 Sant’Anna di Stazzema massacre wherein hundreds of Italian men and women were slaughtered by the Waffen-SS in retaliation to Italian partisan activity.
The film starts string with an extended clip from the John Wayne war movie The Longest Day. As Lee’s camera pulls back we see an older African-American man watching the movie in his apartment. “Pilgrim,” he mumbles to himself and the television, “we fought for this country too…” It’s a powerful moment, followed by a stunner of a scene set in the early 1980s that sets up the murder mystery subplot that bookends the World War II scenes that make up the bulk of the film.
Unfortunately once the film settles in WWII Italy it loses much of its steam. The story of the Buffalo Soldiers is an important and often overlooked story but Lee stretches the narrative past its breaking point, adding in a mystical element involving a statue head—the gritty realism of the war scenes are at odds with the supernatural aura surrounding the head—a Cinema Paradiso-esque child and characters that seem sketched rather than richly drawn. The movie, at two hours and forty-five minutes, feels overlong, but may have worked better had Lee given us some really compelling characters.
The four young actors portraying the soldiers, Laz Alonso, Michael Ealy, Omar Benson Miller and Derek Luke, hand in good performances—Benson Miller is particularly effective as the gentle giant Train—but are stymied by a script that presents them as plot devices or points of view rather than fully rounded people.
Miracle at St. Anna has some great moments. An early battle scene with the 92nd Division crossing a river is gripping, the massacre at St. Anna shocking and a claustrophobic clash between the Buffalo Soldiers and Nazi troops in an Italian village beautifully shot and edited. But for every high point Miracle at St. Anna has two more that seem out of place or inappropriate and I don’t want to even discuss the film’s final scene, a bit of magic realism that will leave many an audience member scratching their heads.
Spike Lee came to this material with a noble purpose—to shine a light on an underreported part of WWII history—but his heavy hand with the story undermines his good intentions.
The video store can be a daunting place. Thousands of discs, all in uniform sizes and colorful cases can boggle the mind. Occasionally a snappily designed box can cut through the quagmire, however. So it is with the Masters of Horror Season Two Box Set human skull packaging. The Skull Box leaps off the rack and catches your eye, and if you’re a horror fan that’s a good thing.
For the uninitiated The Masters of Horror is an anthology television series with each episode featuring a one-hour film helmed by a famous horror film director. Season one highlighted the work of genre legends Joe Dante, John Carpenter and Dario Argento. To commemorate the end of season two Anchor Bay has released the thirteen episodes in a ghoulish box set with DVDs where the brains should be.
Some of the same directors make return appearances—Argento, Tobe Hooper and John Landis all come back for more—but welcome newcomers include Norio Tsuruta who adapts Dream Cruise from a short story of the same name by Japan’s Steven King, Koji Suzuki and The Washingtonians from Romeo is Bleeding director Peter Medak.
Not all are successful. The V Word from Ernest Dickerson, despite a fun performance from horror legend Michael Ironside, and Tobe Hooper’s The Damned Thing both start with great promise but wither before the end credits roll. Overall, however, the production value is of feature film quality, the stories unique—Cannibalistic Founding Fathers! Merciless raccoons!—and the set offers up an antidote to people who think that modern horror is dull and unimaginative.
We’ve been lucky this year. The summer season has provided a bumper crop of blockbusters from Iron Man in May to July’s mega chartbuster The Dark Knight which shattered every attendance record known to man. The good times had to stop sometime, though, and with the release of The Mummy: The Tomb of the Dragon Emperor they come to a screeching halt. Seven years after the last installment of the Brendan Fraser franchise The Dragon Emperor proves that bigger and louder is not necessarily better when it comes to summer entertainment.
In the new Mummy movie treasure hunter Rick O’Connell (Brendan Fraser) and family—wife Evelyn (Maria Bello taking Rachel Weisz’s place), their son Alex (Luke Ford who is actually only 13 years younger than Fraser and 14 years younger than Bello) and hapless brother-in-law Jonathan Carnahan (John Hannah)—are in Asia and once again run afoul of ancient supernatural forces when Alex awakens a wicked 2000 year-old Emperor Mummy (Jet Li). The evil one’s plan is double-pronged; he wants to use his army of undead warriors to conquer the world while getting revenge on the sorceress who cursed him two millennia ago.
Very loosely inspired by the 1932 Universal Boris Karloff classic the first two Mummy films were actually comedies disguised as horror. In the place of real scares were family-friendly thrills more in line with vintage Saturday-matinee horror-adventure classics than anything that’ll really send shivers down your spine. The third installment follows suit, except the jokes aren’t funny, the thrills are non-existent and worst of all, there’s no actual mummies. I guess that saved on the movie’s tissue budget but a movie titled The Mummy should have at least one character wrapped head to toe in toilet paper.
As big a waste of money and effort as we have seen on the big screen for some time, The Mummy: The Tomb of the Dragon Emperor fails on almost every level. Usually Brendan Fraser can muster some goofy charm as he walks through these low-rent Indiana Jones rip offs, but here he’s so disengaged you can almost see him reaching for the pay check while spouting bad one liners and battling blue-screen baddies. Maria Bello does a bad Rachel Weisz impression featuring the worst faux English accent since Kevin Costner created his own unique dialect in The Adventures of Robin Hood. Top billed star Jet Li has very little screen time and the rest of the cast are so bland they barely rate a mention.
In a summer where computer generated images on screen have become passé—both The Dark Knight and Hellboy favor practical effects to baffle the eye over CGI wizardry—The Dragon Emperor relies too heavily on fake looking binary code fabrications. The “wow factor” of CGI dried up long ago and the movie’s cheesy looking, but helpful Yetis and other computer created creations leave the film feeling old-fashioned and out-of-date.
Just like the evil mummies who cause so much trouble in this franchise The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor proves that some things should never be resurrected.
The synopsis for My Sister’s Keeper sounds a bit like a tearjerker episode of LA Law with a sci fi twist. It begins when Kate, the two-year-old daughter (Sofia Vassilieva) of Sara and Brian Fitzgerald (Cameron Diaz and Jason Patric), is stricken with leukemia. In an effort to provide for her and prolong her life the couple conceive Anna (Abigail Breslin), a designer baby, specifically to provide genetically matched organs, blood and bone marrow for Kate’s treatment. She is, literally, a donor child; a spare parts warehouse for Kate. All goes well until, at age 11, Anna refuses to have any more medical procedures and seeks medical emancipation from Sara and Brian. Hiring her own lawyer (Alec Baldwin) she sues her parents for the right to decide how her body is used. “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Kate had been born healthy,” says Anna.
