I sit with host Deb Hutton on NewsTalk 1010 to talk about to the recent Tony Award winner “Giant,” Rush’s triumphant return to the stage, Glenn Close’s honorary Oscar, and I review the alien thrills of “Disclosure Day,” the spoof “Stop! That! Train!” and the supernatural “The Voice Of Our Mother.”
I sit in on the CFRA Ottawa morning show with host Bill Carroll to talk about the new movies coming to theatres including the alien thrills of “Disclosure Day,” the spoof “Stop! That! Train!” and the supernatural “The Voice Of Our Mother.”
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to brush your teeth. Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the alien thrills of “Disclosure Day,” the spoof “Stop! That! Train!” and the supernatural “The Voice Of Our Mother.”
SYNOPSIS: In “Stop! That! Train!,” a new disaster comedy starring RuPaul and now playing in theatres, two train attendants get the jobs of a lifetime working for the luxurious Glamazonian Express just as a massive storm endangers the train, their jobs and may even their lives. “It’s a Stormaganza!”
CAST: Ginger Minj, Jujubee, Brooke Lynn Hytes, Latrice Royale, Monét X Change, Symone, RuPaul Charles, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Nicole Richie, Raven-Symoné, Michelle Visage, Chris Parnell, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Charo, Natasha Leggero, Joel McHale, Missi Pyle, Jerry O’Connell, Lisa Rinna. Directed by Adam Shankman.
REVIEW: “Stop! That! Train!” is the shameless spiritual cousin to “Airplane” and other spoof movies that never met a joke it couldn’t or wouldn’t crack.
The cavalcade of jokes begins as BFFs Tess (Ginger Minj) and DeeDee (Jujubee) report for duty as attendants on the high-speed Glamazonian Express, a train so most glamorous it makes the Orient Express seem dowdy. “There ain’t no rules when you’re riding on a train,” sing the first-class train attendants in the Safety Instructions musical number. “We’re like if Amtrak was gay.”
Their first day on the job is thrown into chaos when a massive storm nicknamed a Stormaganza hits, threatening to crash the train into Los Angeles. The only route to survival is for Tess and DeeDee to team up with the condescending first-class attendants, who, with the help of President Judy Gagwell (RuPaul) just might be able to avert disaster.
One of the co-producers of “Stop! That! Train!” is the aptly named Unapologetic Projects. I say aptly named because this movie is unapologetic in its campy approach. No joke is too corny, no joke obvious, no joke is left unturned. Don’t like a joke? Hang on, there will be another one in the next five seconds.
Legendary crime writer Elmore Leronard once told me you should never use more than one “!” in every 100,000 words. The title alone of “Stop! That! Train!” uses three and director Adam Shankman pitches the performances as if there were an “!” at the end of every joke. It’s a lot, and a bit of a blunt instrument, but it’s all in good fun.
Like an episode of “Drag Race,” “Stop! That! Train!” is colorful, chaotic and escapist. It’s a whole lotta empty calories, but fans of “Drag Race” should lap up this train wreck’s the quotable moments and wild energy.
A high school, coma comedy with a fish-out-of-water twist, “Senior Year,” a new Netflix movie starring Rebel Wilson, plays like a mix between “While You Were Sleeping” and “Billy Madison.”
Stephanie Conway (Angourie Rice as teenager, Wilson as an adult) was on track to have a perfect life. A high school star, she was a cheerleader, president of the fashion club and prom queen candidate until a head injury, caused by a tumble off the top of a cheerleading pyramid, put her into coma for twenty years.
Waking up at age 37, it is like no time has passed. As far as she knows, it’s 2002, words like “shiznit” and “bomb diggity” are still hip and she still wants to be prom queen, the pinnacle of high school success. “It’s more than just a crown to me,” she says.
But she is a relic. Social media is a new-fangled thing, political correctness is like science fiction, cheerleaders now do routines about the climate crisis and gun control, and her former classmates are now the parents of high schoolers.
To get on with her new life, its’s time for some adult education… in high school. “I can’t move on to the next chapter in my life,” she says, “if I am still stuck in the old one for twenty years.”
With just a month before graduation, she enrolls, trying to pick up where she left off. But she finds times gave changed. “I had more fun in the coma,” she sighs.
“Senior Year” is a comedy with a scattergun approach.
The coming-of-age story is meant to be a poignant look at Stephanie as she matures and comes to understand that there is more to life than cheerleading and being prom queen. The power of friendships and loyalty are examined—”It doesn’t matter who has the most friends, or likes, or followers,” says Stephanie. “If you just have one or two great friends, they will support you. Then you have got it all. That is worth fighting for.”—butted up against the notion of being true to yourself and the idea that who you are in high school doesn’t define you.
Doesn’t sound that funny, does it?
That’s because it isn’t. At least, not all the way through. “Senior Year” takes a one joke premise and milks it for humor in the first couple of acts. Funny, situational lines are sprinkled throughout the first hour or so. “You survived twenty years without solid food,” says Stephanie’s dad (Chris Parnell), “you can make it through a weekend without your phone,” but they dry up as the movies goes on.
It also goes for laughs from the culture clash between 2002 and 2022. Stephanie has much to learn about political correctness and world events, but to its credit, the film doesn’t treat the teens as woke zombies, spouting catchphrases, but as decent kids who care about their friends and the future.
It sounds like a lot, because it is a lot. Wilson does what she can to keep things moving along, but when the feel-good messaging begins, she is saddled with prosaic, by-the-book truisms that suck away the whatever fun had been established in the film’s first part.
Talented comic actors like Mary Holland and Zoë Chao bring both humor and heart to their roles, but “Senior Year” still feels messy. Too long, it toggles back-and-forth between the sincere and the silly like it is changing gears in a high-speed Formula One race, but, unfortunately, never finds its pace.