Johnny Depp had upwards of thirty million reasons to sign on for the new Pirates of the Caribbean outing—co-star Ian McShane suggests Depp is “paid more than the national debt of most countries”—and for that kind of money you’d think he could at least pretend to enjoy wearing Captain Jack’s bandana for the fourth time in eight years.
But he doesn’t.
Perhaps he’s just tired of playing pirate, or maybe he has finally realized the limitations of the swishbuckler but what was once a sublime characterization has become nothing more than his children’s (and their children’s) guaranteed annuity. An actor as gifted as Depp needs stimulation, (and frequently a funny hat, see: Alice and Wonderland, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) and the sooner he abandons the Pirate ship and leaves the family franchise phase of his career behind the better.
It’s hard to imagine that Depp is one of the least interesting aspects of this big budget monstrosity, but it’s true. Geoffrey Rush, fresh off his Oscar nominated turn in The King’s Speech, also takes a paycheck here, but at least tries to shiver the timbers. Ditto Ian McShane. Perhaps they’re both hoping for some spin-off action once Johnny tires of the whole rigmarole, but at least you can’t see them actually reaching for the money.
Not that Depp is entirely to blame for the failure of the movie. Director Rob Marshall shoulders much of the guilt here. People pay money to see the Pirates movies for two reasons, Johnny Depp and the crazy action sequences. The stories have never made any sense, and in that aspect On Stranger Tides doesn’t disappoint, but Johnny’s disinterest and action scenes that are as exciting as you’d imagine an action sequence directed by the guy who made Nine sink the ship.
When I say failure I mean as a piece of entertainment. This is a guaranteed lock for number one with a BO gross that will make Captain Kidd’s legendary buried treasure seem like chump change, but profitability, while important to the suits who green light projects like this, is exactly what’s killing Captain Jack.
Guaranteed licenses to print money don’t come along very often, but when they do Hollywood often takes a counterintuitive approach to their cash cows. Why try that hard, Pirates seems to be saying to us, when people will lay down their money no matter if the story is silly, if the picture is so dark you can’t see the action, if our star has other things on his mind, if this simply plays like a trailer for the inevitable Pirates of the Caribbean 5: Do You Have Any Money Left? Let’s not try to improve or, God forbid, change the formula, the movie gods declare. Let’s stay status quo. Unfortunately status quo kills.
Several years ago you couldn’t take the subway, sit in a coffee shop or go to a bookstore without seeing at least one person deeply engrossed in a copy of Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden. It was only a matter of time before Hollywood scooped up the rights and turned the best selling book into a lavish holiday film.
In his follow-up to the Academy Award winning musical Chicago, director Rob Marshall spares no expense to bring Memoirs to the screen. The film is beautifully shot, wonderfully costumed—although there are some historical inaccuracies such as one character wearing a kimono crossed right over left, the way Japanese people clothe their dead—and filled with impossibly good-looking actors. Memoirs looks fabulous and is great eye candy.
On the surface Marshall was a good choice for this material as he is at his best when dealing with theatrical characters, and the Geishas seen in Memoirs are nothing if not dramatic. The problem lies once the viewer tries to scratch the surface. There’s nothing there!
At the heart of the book is a love story that begins when Sayuri—Japan’s Next Top Geisha—is only a child and meets a businessman who is kind to her. As she becomes an adult she never forgets this act of kindness and carries a torch for him. Marshall makes a play for our emotions at this point of the story, but never connects. Because it is such a passionless affair Memoirs of a Geisha feels like a beautiful crystal vase—amazing to look at, but utterly empty inside.
“Nine,” the latest Broadway to big screen outing from director Rob Marshall, is by turns breathtaking and frustrating. A cinematic remounting of the 1982 Tony award-winning musical (which was itself inspired by Federico Fellini’s classic “8 ½”) about an Italian film director in the throws of a mid-life crisis is heavy on the glamour—Kate Hudson’s character tells the director that in his movies “every frame is like a postcard” and that is certainly true here as well—but not heavy enough with story.
When the movie starts world-famous filmmaker Guido Contini (Daniel Day-Lewis) is mentally blocked. His latest opus “Italia” is only ten days away from the beginning of production and he has yet to have an idea for the film, let alone write a line of dialogue. Edging ever closer to a nervous breakdown, his entanglements with a variety of women, including his mistress Carla (Penélope Cruz), wife Luisa (Marion Cotillard) and mother (Sophia Loren), only push him further down his self made rabbit hole.
The first question everyone has about “Nine” is, “Can Daniel Day Lewis sing?” The answer, in a word (actually a few words) is, no, not really. He speak-sings his two songs in a strange baritone that sounds more like a drunk uncle singing with the wedding band than a big-budget musical star, but I can forgive the singing because his brooding presence anchors every scene in the film. In a movie as cotton candy light as this you need something or someone to affix the story to and Day-Lewis is it.
Marshall takes the movie’s thin premise and stretches it to feature length, keeping the eye interested with stylish camera work, scantily clad dancers and great 1960s Italian locations, fashions and period decoration, but he may have taken the words of one of his characters a bit too seriously. “Style is the new content,” coos Stephanie (Kate Hudson). If that is true then “Nine” is the most substantial movie of the year, meaning that it is great to look at, but somehow, the story doesn’t really connect.
If you are just going for the music however, you won’t be disappointed. Marshall has cut several of the tunes from the original score, added several others (by original Broadway composer Maury Yeston) and wallpapered the movie with memorable songs, set pieces and choreography. Highlights include Fergie’s ode to roaming hands, “Be Italian,” “Cinema Italiano” Kate Hudson’s exuberantly fluffy 60’s pop number and “A Call from the Vatican,” Penelope Cruz’s steamy phone sex song.
“Nine’s” glossy veneer over powers whatever story there is but its panache and energy will keep your eye entertained.
Johnny Depp had upwards of thirty million reasons to sign on for the new Pirates of the Caribbean outing—co-star Ian McShane suggests Depp is “paid more than the national debt of most countries”—and for that kind of money you’d think he could at least pretend to enjoy wearing Captain Jack’s bandana for the fourth time in eight years.
