Do you clear your schedule every week to make sure you are at home, in front of the TV for both the performance nights and the elimination shows of “So You Think You Can Dance”? If so, then you may find something to like about “StreetDance 3D,” a new British import in the tradition of “Step Up” and “How She Move.” If not you’re unlikely to find much joy here. Sure the dance sequences are good, although the 3D does little to nothing to enhance them, and the cast is fetching but the story is so lame it’s a wonder they bothered with it at all. Jane English the screenwriter—no wait, that’s too grand a title for the person who “wrote” “StreetDance 3D,” let’s call her typist Jane English instead—has managed to bang together every dance movie cliché in the book. It’s as though she has a secret algorithm available only to people scripting dance movies that allows her to add together elements from every other teen dance movie ever made and actually come out with something less than the sum of its parts. No cliché is left unexplored—the bad guys even wear black military style uniforms. And the acting, well, let’s just say Ginger Rogers doesn’t have to worry about being replaced as the world’s most talented actress / dancer. But as predictable as “StreetDance 3D” is, it does have spirit and some high flying moves.
Just when I was ready to declare the romantic comedy genre dead along comes a movie that makes believe that there is some life left in the old boy-meets-girl storyline. “The Switch”, a new rom com starring Jennifer Aniston and Jason Bateman as best friends who—now here’s a surprise—might have unresolved feelings for one another doesn’t exactly cover new ground, but it covers the old ground in a pleasing, interesting way. Dear friends, it’s not time to write that eulogy just yet.
At the beginning of the movie Wally (Bateman) is described as a beady eyed manboy. That’s a pretty apt description, although it leaves out insecure, hypochondriac and loner. His best friend Kassie (Aniston) is a network television producer with “gorgeous cervical mucus” desperate to have a baby, even though she is single with no prospects of a boyfriend, let alone husband. Wally offers his “services” but she declines. “She wouldn’t know good sperm if it slapped her in the face,” offers Jeff Goldblum, Wally’s pal from work. She eventually settles on Roland, a married, but genetically blessed donor. On the night of the artificial insemination Wally, who doesn’t approve of the whole thing gets black out drunk and makes a switch. Cut to seven years later. Kassie and son Sebastian (Thomas Robinson) return to New York after living in Minnesota. Wally’s memories of that night are foggy at best, but the more time he spends with Sebastian the more he is convinced he is the father. The problem is Kassie is more interested in striking up a relationship with Roland, the man she believes is the boy’s biological or “seed” dad.
“The Switch” has much in common with other romantic comedies. It shares same kind of predictable plot, the New York setting so crucial to rom coms and the convention of the wacky friend—Jeff Goldblum is a wild eccentric presence here, but makes it worth staying to the end to hear a snippet of his bebop piano version of Happy Birthday.
What’s missing is the shiny gloss of most other romantic comedies. Despite the kind of outlandish plot “The Switch” feels like maybe there are actually real emotions involved instead of the usual rom com faux feelings. For instance in the final reveal—no spoilers here, but you can likely guess what it is—there is no sappy music trying to manipulate us into feeling a certain way. Instead there are believable characters in a slightly unreal situation behaving the way real people might. The tears look genuine and unlike most romantic comedies, they aren’t always tears of joy. Call it an art house rom com if you like but if all romantic comedies were this good the idea of going to see people fall in love at the movies wouldn’t be so odious.
This is considerably more charming than say, “The Back Up Plan,” the JLo movie from earlier this year that covered some of the same ground as “The Switch” and it is mostly because of the actors. Aniston and Bateman are compelling and watchable but it is Sebastian (played at different ages by brothers Thomas and Bryce Robinson) who is the bow on the package. His (their?) deadpan performance is both hilarious and touching.
“The Switch” is much better than it has to be and gives me hope that romance isn’t dead in Hollywood.
Comic books and graphic novels have provided the inspiration for loads of movies but rarely does a film really capture the spirit of its pen and ink muse. “Sin City” used a mixture of live action and digital trickery to bring its film noir story to visceral life and the “Spider-Man” series wisely focused on the characters for their big screen outings but “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World” is the evolution of both these techniques. Director Edgar “Sean of the Dead” Wright strikes a balance between live action, manga, video game imagery and music videos to conjure up a wildly entertaining, if some what sensory assaulting pop culture confection that works as a film and stays true to the source material.
Based on Bryan Lee O’Malley’s graphic novel series, “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World” stars Michael Cera as Scott Pilgrim, a 22-year-old Torontonian who is rebound dating a 17-year-old high school girl named Knives Chau (Ellen Wong). Knives loves Scott and his band, but Scott only has eyes for Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a recently transplanted New Yorker whose habit of changing her hair color from shocking pink to blue to green every week leads Scott to believe she is unpredictable. He may be right, but her fickle behavior is the least of his problems. As soon as they start dating he discovers he has to pass a test—actually seven of them—if he wants to be with her. He must first defeat her Seven Evil Exes in wild video game meets “The Matrix” fights scenes.
The experience of watching “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World” is not unlike that sonic rush that accompanies walking into a videogame arcade. It’s noisy, flashy and somewhat disorienting. Director Wright flips from scene to scene with the speed of light, filling the screen with sight gags, surreal graphics flying on and off the screen and much visual mayhem.
It’s nonstop but unlike movies that are all style and no substance the look of the film is crucial to the spirit of the story. Some suspension of disbelief will be necessary when watching the movie—extras lives can be gained à la video game rules—but the underlying reason for all this flash is Scott’s journey toward self awareness. He’s a video game nerd and a comic book geek whose life is marked by the constant flow of information and stimulation that we’re all inundated with every day and the movie’s hyperactive style inventively portrays that world.
It’s a cool looking movie but that doesn’t mean that much if the characters aren’t engaging, and here again Wright steps up. Cera (the year’s most unlikely movie warrior) is treading familiar ground here—the sweet geek—but brings with him razor sharp comic timing and a likeable screen presence. His realization that you must fight for what you believe in and those you love may be presented in an outrageous fashion, but the underlying message is bang on.
“Scott Pilgrim vs. The World” is a unique piece of work. It’s a wild ride that nails the pop culture zeitgeist but also tells a universal human story.
Movies don’t come more “ripped from the headlines” than “Salt.” The story of a sleeper agent living in the United States unfolded in real life recently but wasn’t nearly as exciting or as silly as its on-screen counterpart.
When we first meet Evelyn Salt (Angelina Jolie) she is an American hero after surviving a brutal interment in North Korea. “Do you know what she’s done for her country?” asks her boss (Liev Schrieber). Actually we don’t, but she did have a nasty black eye when she was rescued. She’s married to Michael Krause—the world’s leading arachnologist—and is happily riding a desk at an undercover CIA office in Washington. Everything suddenly changes one day, however, when a Russian defector named Orlov (Daniel Olbrychski) shows up with a wild tale of a sleeper agent named Evelyn Salt who is going to assassinate the Russian president in order to trigger a war. Accused, she makes a run for it—searching for her husband and the truth.
“Salt” has a Cold War inspired plot that even James Bond creator Ian Fleming, no stranger to elaborate plot musings—he once created a villain who killed his victims with liquid gold—would have rejected as over-the-top.
Logic flies out the window early on, leaving room only for outlandish plot turns unlikely twists and an ending that can only be described as preposterous.
That said, “Salt” is a lot of fun but it’s not a story that will hold up to a great deal of scrutiny. Hitchcock would have referred to it as a refrigerator movie. It seems to (mostly) make sense while you are watching it, but later, when you are home in front of the fridge making a snack and thinking about the film you realize it doesn’t hold up. But that’s OK when the action is as relentlessly paced and fun as Phillip Noyce delivers here. The escalation from accused spy to fugitive happens very quickly—it’s exaggerated—but once the action starts it covers for the trite dialogue—”You’re not safe with me!”—and silly plotting.
The part of Evelyn Salt was originally written for Tom Cruise, who eventually walked away because he felt the story too closely resembled his “Mission Impossible” movies. Good thing too. Cruise would have brought his usual hero persona along with him, taking away some of the down-and-dirty pleasure of the film. Besides it’s way more fun to see Angelina Jolie jump from building to building and use dead guys as a silencer for her gun. Cruise would have insisted on less good-or-evil ambiguity. Jolie oozes bad girl vibes and it works very well here. As Evelyn she’s two parts bombshell, one part “MacGyver” and all badass. She has more lives than Felix the Cat, but that’s all part of the fun.
Less than fun is the end of the movie. There will be no spoilers here, but the preposterous finale makes me think that a.) it was written to set “Salt” up for a sequel—can “Salt and Pepper” be far behind? or b.) Noyce didn’t know how to end it and went for the easiest and least logical way out.
“Salt” is silly fun. A summer spy romp that works as an action film but doesn’t bear up to scrutiny.
“The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” is a remake of the famous segment in Disney’s “Fantasia” in name only. Sure there are a few lively mops and other cleaning supplies that come to life, echoing Mickey Mouse’s symphonic cartoon, but in the new version there is also wild special effects, Nic Cage’s crazy hair and best of all, Jay Baruchel as the title character.
The story begins in 740 AD, when Merlin is betrayed by one of his three apprentices. A battle between loyal Merlinians Balthazar (Nicolas Cage) and Veronica (Monica Bellucci) and the turncoat Maxim Horvath (Alfred Molina) ends when Veronica is trapped in a magic nesting doll called a Grimhold with Horvath and evil sorceress Morgana (Alice Krige). Cut to the 21st century. Balthazar has searched for one thousand years to find “the Prime Merlinian,” the only person powerful enough to kill Morgana and free Veronica from the Grimhold. The centuries long search ends up at the door of Dave Stutler (Jay Baruchel) a nerdy New York City physics student who sounds a lot like the guy from “How to Train Your Dragon.” In the coming days Dave not only learns about sorcery, but also a thing or two about self confidence, his love interest (played by ScarJo look-a-like Teresa Palmer) and how to defeat the forces of evil.
“The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” is the second Jerry Bruckheimer movie of the summer season, following “The Prince of Persia.” Like “The Prince of Persia” this movie takes a thin premise and stretches it to feature length, but unlike the ill fated “Prince” “Apprentice” dishes up fun characters to go along with the trademark Bruckheimer action.
Baruchel, Cage and Molina ground the movie with, if not exactly believable characters—I believe Cage as a thousand year old sorcerer, but I don’t believe that hair is actually his!—then characters that can hold their own against the film’s frenetic pace and wild action. Director Jon “National Treasure” Turteltaub keeps the pedal to the metal, plunking in an action sequence about every ten minutes. The action is typical Bruckheimer CGI overdrive but is inventive and mostly family friendly. There are a couple of images that may disturb very young kids, but anyone over the age of ten shouldn’t find anything here they haven’t already seen in videogames.
Cage and Molina bring a larger-than-life feel to their characters. Cage isn’t exactly in his extreme “Bad Lieutenant” form here, but he is clearly having fun; ditto Molina who clearly relishes playing the bad guy.
Those guys eat up the scenery but it is Baruchel who provides the heart of the film. He brings the same charm and way with physical comedy to this mega-budget film as he does to the smaller character based movies he makes like “The Trotsky.” He’s appealing and even when the romance aspect of the story starts to drag Baruchel keeps us on side.
“The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” is a great air conditioner movie for these thermometer-busting summer days.
They grow up so quickly, don’t they? One day they are slimy bipedal creatures who look like a cross between Yul Brenner and a slug, the next they are flesh eating, underwater breathing alien looking supermodel types. At least that’s the way it is in “Splice,” a new sci fi thriller starring Sarah Polley and Oscar winner Adrien Brody, about a creature who goes from newborn to troubled teen in a matter of weeks.
Clive (Brody) and Elsa (Polley) are bio chemists (and boyfriend and girlfriend) who develop a splicing technology which binds the DNA from multiple animals to create new life and, possibly, cures for everything from Parkinson’s to cancer. It’s the medical breakthrough of the century. The next logical step is to fuse human and animal DNA but despite their success in the lab, their employers, the evil conglomerate Newstead Pharma, is wary of the publicity such a radical step would incur. Secretly the pair go rogue, continue their experiments, and give “birth” to a new life form they dub Dren (that’s “nerd” backwards), a tailed creature resembling a bald dinosaur. Clive, conflicted by the ethical and moral issues of cloning, wants to kill the creature but Elsa won’t have it. “Human cloning is illegal,” she says, “but this won’t be entirely human.” Dren develops at a rapid pace, changing from unrecognizable organism to something akin to a humanoid kangaroo. Soon though problems arise. The creature becomes Daddy’s little… whatever, leaving Elsa to deal with Dren’s difficult puberty.
Like the hybrid creature at the center of the action “Splice” is a cross of genres—part b-movie sci fi and part body horror à la David Cronenberg. Liberally mixing “The Island of Dr. Moreau,” “Frankenstein” and “The Brood,” “Splice” examines ideas of life and death, of playing God, of what is human (and what is not) and even touches on Woody Allen style relationships. There are plenty of moral concepts to chew on, many ruminations to be had on what it is to be human, but only if you look past the b-movie thrills director Vincenzo Natali slathers on with a trowel.
Splice goes places that bigger budget science fiction wouldn’t dare to tread. This isn’t the enviro-friendly sci fi of James Cameron or the space opera of George Lucas. No, this has more in common with the exploitation films of Roger Corman. There’s an icky creature, some scientist sexy time and loads of crazy science. Corman might not have been as successful at layering in the love, jealousy and real human emotions Natali heaps on his characters but I think the b-movie king would approve of “Splice’s” overall tone. It’s doesn’t skimp on the blood and guts but it’s funnier than you think it is going to be, wilder than expected—Sarah Polley’s maternal instincts towards Dren are right out of “Mommie Dearest”—and takes several unexpected twists and turns.
“Splice” is giddy good fun, the rare sci fi flick that revels in its b-movie roots while also offering up something to think about over a beaker of coffee afterward.
Two years ago I learned a very important lesson. After giving the original “Sex and the City” movie a so-so review I was deluged with hate mail. My favorite letter suggested I “shut my damn manhole,” and never speak of the show or the movie again. What did I learn? I learned that you must never mess with Miranda, Charlotte, Carrie and Samantha. Too bad series creator and “Sex and the City 2” director Michael Patrick King hasn’t learned the same thing.
Since the last movie Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) and Big (Chris Noth) have settled into the comfortable life of ordering in food from fancy restaurants instead of getting dolled up and eating out in fancy restaurants five nights a week. She misses their old glamorous life, he likes putting his feet up on the coach and watching television in bed. Meanwhile gal pals Samantha (Kim Cattrall), Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) and Charlotte (Kristin Davis) are respectively, gulping down pre menopausal hormones, struggling to find a balance between work and child rearing and fretting that a busty nanny (Alice Eve) is attracting too much attention around the house. Their carefully manicured lives are fraying ever so slightly at the edges so what do they do? They head off for Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirate of course!
As I watched “SatC 2” the phrase “leave well enough alone” came to mind. On television Miranda, Charlotte, Carrie and Samantha became icons; cutting edge characters with verve, style and chutzpah. In the movies, however, it seems like they have been blunted. They still have style—the first obligatory Louboutin shot happens about sixty seconds in—but the verve and chutzpah seems forced. Michael Patrick King has allowed these once-upon-a-time titans of female empowerment to be trivialized. In other words he has messed with what made the show great. Whatever “SatC” is now, it is a much different thing than the television show.
There are flashes of the old magic every now and again. The iconic shot from Carrie’s old Upper East Side brownstone window to Big’s limo parked down below is a reminder of the good times and the quartet has undeniable chemistry. So when King allows the characters to be true to themselves the movie works, but a 146 minute movie needs more than flashes.
It’s hard to know exactly when “SatC 2” nukes the fridge (apparently the term “jump the shark” has jumped the shark). Perhaps it’s when Miley Cyrus shows up wearing the same dress as Samantha. Perhaps it’s during the intolerably bad “I Am Woman” karaoke scene, which is meant to be a grrl power anthem, but frankly, is just embarrassing. Or perhaps it is when the movie leaves its NYC home base and becomes the culturally insensitive “Carrie of Arabia.”
Whenever it is that it goes wrong, and believe me, it does go wrong, it probably won’t matter much to “SatC” fans. The audience I saw it with treated the movie as an interactive experience, commenting on the clothes, the relationships and the plot revelations as if they were enjoying a Cosmo with the girls at Buddakan.
Fans have a real life loyalty to these characters that isn’t dissimilar to the bond the fictional Miranda, Charlotte, Carrie and Samantha share. I guess that’s what it means to be friends, you stick with them during good times and bad, but in “Sex and the City 2” there are more bad times than good.
Once upon a time, in 2001, a green ogre named Shrek lumbered on to screens, bringing with him a different kind of animated story. The original “Shrek” was a fairy tale that mixed family friendly characters with a edgy sense of humor—like a Gingerbread Man tortured with a milk dunking. It was a monumental hit, so it wasn’t long before “Shrek 2” and “Shrek the Third” came along, each time with diminishing results. Luckily, the new “Shrek Forever After,” the fourth and final installment takes us off into that fairy tale happily-ever-after on a high note.
The 3D “Shrek Forever After” sees the giant green ogre (voiced by Mike Myers) in the midst of a mid-life crisis. He’s feeling bogged down by the responsibilities of marriage to Fiona (Cameron Diaz), raising his three kids and trapped by his newfound celebrity as the friendliest ogre on the block. “I used to be an ogre,” he says, “but now I’m a jolly green joke.” Longing for the days when life was simple he strikes a deal with an evil magician (voiced in an apparent tribute to Pee Wee Herman by story editor Walt Dohrn. In exchange for one day of freedom he will give the magician one day from his life. In a prime example of “be careful what you wish for because you just might get it” the unsuspecting Shrek signs the deal and begins a nightmarish “It’s a Wonderful Life” journey into a world completely different than any he could have imagined. Only the kiss of his true love—Fiona—can break the spell, but does she love him anymore?
Call this “Shrek the Metaphysical” if you like, one thing is for sure, it is darker than the preceding “Shreks”—although dark is still a relative term in the world of kid’s entertainment. The “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone” message isn’t much different from anything you’d see in a regular children’s flick, but the journey to get there is.
In its opening moments this grim fairy features a tour-de-force sequence illustrating how snowed under Shrek feels by his new responsibilities. It’s a scene that will likely seem familiar to some of the parents in the audience, what follows—the well worn puns both vocal and visual, classic rock music cues and pop culture references—will seem familiar to anyone else who’s seen “Shrek” one through three. Even the bodily function jokes make an appearance—Shrek is described as “a lovable lug who showed that you don’t have to change your undies to change the world”—but instead of the been there, done that feel of “Shrek the Third” the new film weaves the familiar elements together into something resembling a large helping of comfort food. It doesn’t have the sparkling freshness of the first installment, but it has heart, some good jokes for both kids and adults and is a fitting send off to the series.
“She’s Out of My League,” the new romantic comedy starring Jay Baruchel as a 5 dating a 10, exists in a fictional movie universe where men lose the ability to speak in the presence of a beautiful woman and airport security guards are friendly and helpful.
Baruchel, a Canadian actor best known for his roles in “Tropic Thunder” and “Knocked Up,” plays Kirk, a moodle—that’s a man poodle—who lets women walk all over him. Single for two years, he still pines for his ex-girlfriend even though she has long since moved on. When Molly (Alice Eve), a pretty blonde party planner, leaves her i-phone at his security check point she is thoroughly charmed when he goes out of his way to return it and despite their differences they begin seeing one another. He’s not the kind of guy she usually ends up with, but she responds to his sense of humor and honesty, until his insecurities drive a wedge between them.
The structure of “She’s Out of My League” is pure rom com formula. Unlikely couple meets, falls in love, has conflict, cut to happily ever after. It’s Lyle Lovett and Julia Roberts or King Kong and Naomi Watts, only without the happily ever after part. The rom com recipe only really cooks, however, when the cast is interesting and luckily “She’s Out of My League” has charm to burn.
Alice Eve is genetically blessed enough to play the traditional blonde knock out Molly, but brings more to the role than curves and flowing hair. She takes a character that could have been smug and makes her likeable; bringing a sweetness that keeps the audience on side even when her relationship with Kirk gets rocky. If Amy Adams, normally a very likeable actress, had half the charm Eve oozes here then maybe her rom com, “Leap Year” from earlier this winter, wouldn’t have been such a disaster.
Most of the heavy lifting, however, is left to unlikely leading man Baruchel. Baruchel, an Ottawa native, has been lurking around the edges of Hollywood success for the last few years. Memorable roles in big films like “Million Dollar Baby” and some frat pack comedies and lead roles in some cool Canadian films (like the upcoming “The Trotsky”) have prepped him for his first lead in a studio picture. His low key charm and deadpan wit carry every scene he’s in—and he’s in almost every frame if the film. He’s believable as slacker Kirk, sweet Kirk and boyfriend Kirk.
Not that “She’s Out of My League” is all sweetness and light though. There are some crude jokes from the Apatow school of bathroom humor, some silly “guy” talk about relationships and a climax that goes on a bit too long, but any movie that uses Branson, Missouri as a metaphor for mediocrity and twists the rom com formula in such sweet ways is worth a look.
