Nine

If you find yourself complaining about the price of movies today, there is one out there where you can plainly see your money on the screen. Rob Marshall (Chicago, Memoirs of a Geisha) and his Oscar-winning army present to you Nine; an explosion of light, sound, blindingly beautiful costumes... and not one bit of soul.

The story centers around "genius" Italian director, Guido Contini and his struggle to recapture his former artistic glory in his latest picture, boldly titled Italia. To help tap into his lost mojo, he revisits his muses, past and present, who have made him the man he is today. And you can bet that each muse comes with her own razzle dazzle song in tow.

The problem with casting top-notch actresses in a musical is that no matter how many awards they've accumulated, they're still not singers. I will be the first to admit that I'd take an actor-singer over a singer-actor any day of the week. But Nicole Kidman barely got away with it the first time around with Moulin Rouge and clearly, no improvements have been made since. This isn't to say that these multi-faceted and multi-talented actresses weren't passable as singers and that they didn't nail what little dialogue the script mercifully bestowed upon us. However, it says something when the musical numbers, meant to propel the story forward, are ultimately what drag it down. Even the best number (sung by the one true singer of the bunch) seems like a recycled take from "The Cellblock Tango" in Chicago. Clearly, Marshall has taken the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" approach in regards to his formula for musicals. The imagination performance in place of singing to one another in reality ultimately worked for Chicago because it was a new and modern way to present "the musical" to movie audiences. It would have worked for Nine had it not seemed like it was merely copied and pasted.

But songs, vocals, and pacing aside, the truly disappointing part of this film is how shallow and poorly written most of these characters are. As each woman introduces herself to the audience, with glitz and glam and forgettable melodies, you appreciate the fantasy of it all... at first. However, you eventually start to thirst for some anchor into the realm of authentic emotional substance which IS possible in a musical. Marion Cotillard adds the one piece of heart in her subtle and poignant portrayal of the loyal and charismatic wife of the "genius" who makes movies. But even her own journey's end seems hollow and somewhat undignified.

Unfortunately, the most unsatisfying character arc belongs to Guido. Daniel Day Lewis, in a role far more believable than his Daniel Plainview-I-drink-your-milkshake-scenery-chewing nonsense (and yes, I "got it"... thank you) plays the man that is WRITTEN for him, perfectly. This is a man that just about every woman has met, or will meet at least once. A man whose charm and talent breed allowances for a life of lies and transgressions and grey areas in the name of art and talent and passion. The story is nothing if not timely and -unfortunately- acts as a painful reminder of our current pop cultural and societal trends. In fact, it's downright depressing.

The director and screenwriter take a stab at creating a sense of empathy for this man once the inevitable happens and his worlds collide. They play with the notion that feelings and mistakes are human, which they are; "to err is human, to forgive... yadda, yadda, yadda." But how can you believe in a character’s search for redemption without ever seeing him truly pay the consequences? Well, as unsatisfying as it is, you don’t. The shallow depiction of redemption has him growing a beard and walking around town "learning from his mistakes" while everyone around him is actually paying for them.

Maybe that IS the truth that we're supposed to take with us. The truth that sneaks up on us while we were blinded by Dame Judi Dench's decolletage. "Genius" needs to reign free, to be allowed to tear things apart sans accountability and we need to be OK with cleaning up the mess. They'll live with their tortured "genius" minds and we, the lucky ones, well... we get to experience their art.

“Razzle Dazzled”? Temporarily. Fooled? Hardly.

Angels and Demons

If I had to say which of the two literary Robert Langdon adventures is better- The Da Vinci Code or Angels and Demons- I'd say that Angels and Demons has a slight edge. Between the two movies? Well...I'm going to call it a draw.

I don't know if being the first movie drastically affected by the writer's strike had anything to do with the outcome of the screenplay, but if I were to come up with an excuse for the film, I'd fall back on that defense.

Granted, I will say that there is a challenge in compiling all of the essential information needed to keep the plot going from the novel to the screen. However, what we end up with is a screenplay full of answers and exposition as if the screenwriter was "just getting it done." Kind of like your half-ass attempt on that essay question at the end of an exam. You know, the one where you know your professor is expecting to hear a specific name, date, definition etc. to at least grant you a passing grade. And that's precisely what you give your Professor. Nothing more... Because hey, maybe you were out a little too late the night before or, in this case, maybe you're dealing with a writer's strike.

Although it was mildly entertaining, the bigger problems surrounding filming made it clear that the production as a whole was a headache that needed pass as quickly as possible.

The Watchmen

I knew what the early reviews were saying so I thought that at the very least, my expectations would be low enough to be pleasantly surprised by any spark of interest.

The only thing I was interested in was whether it was possible to put a sleeper hold on myself. This movie was excruciatingly long and somehow the action sequences, which tend to speed up any movie, were almost as boring as each individual character's 45 minute back story.

One of the reasons why this failed is the same reason why a lot of horror movies fail; they forget to follow the golden rule. The golden rule is to wait until the last possible moment to show "the monster". The monster can quite literally be the monster in the horror genre or, in action, it's the big climactic scene where the esacpe/explosion/rescues etc. take place. This movie did not follow that rule. They prematurely showed the monster. Now before the geek boys come at me with "It's the Watchmen... they follow no rules... ooooooh.... it's a graphic novel..."

Just stop it.

With skulls getting cut in half, arms sawed off, pregnant women shot, "almost" rapes, bodies exploding... enough already; we get it. The so-called "line" was crossed so many times that you were completely desensitized fifteen minutes into it and nothing held any weight anymore. I was literally wondering if they were just running out of things to do. There was no momentum and no build towards the climax and what little investment you had to begin with was more than spent by the time these characters had their big final suit-up moment.

The music choices were jarringly weak: How many times can "The Sound of Silence" be used in films these days and still be taken seriously? The use of "All Along the Watchtower" was so heavy-handed that it was just lame... Oh, I get it! "All Along the WATCHtower" and we're watching "The WATCHmen" so clever. Attempts at humor in the music selection were pretty feeble and quite dated. During a scene where big businessmen are arguing over energy resources, elevator music covering Tears for Fears' "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" plays in the background... Ha... Ha....haaaaa.

The only commendable part of the movie was Jackie Earle Haley's Rorschach. Haley is probably most recognizable in his fantastic and subsequently Oscar-nominated performance as a sex-offender in Little Children where he played opposite Patrick Wilson and Kate Winslet.

I'm sorry to say that the girls in this flick get no credit in the writing department. Shocker. They are hollow creatures with uncomplicated minds that allow them to bounce easily between a radiating, blue nudist and a geek. I know in action movies girls are there to be rescued or to look good in leather and latex but at least Trinity in The Matrix did it with dignity and a brain.

This movie was awful and the only people who stand by it are the fans who have waited dutifully for its release... much like those who stand by the embarrassment that is Rent: the Movie. The best part of my experience was watching the newly revamped previews for Star Trek, Terminator Salvation, Angels and Demons and Wolverine.

It's too late for me but please, save yourselves.

60 Second Wrap-Up

So it's been about a month since I wrote a full review. I spent the three weeks leading up to the Oscars doing nothing but seeing movies with some sort of nomination and then some for just dumb fun because, let's face it, sometimes you just want a cheeseburger. All this meaning I got a little side-tracked. So instead of taking weeks to do full reviews for every movie that I had seen in the past 30+ days, I'll give you the short version. My 60 Second Wrap-Up.

Frost/Nixon

I liked it. There's nothing bad you can really say about the quality of Frost/Nixon or most movies that Ron Howard takes on for that matter.

The two leads are great even though the big character actors with over-the-top performances get all the attention. He received the Oscar nomination, but I actually preferred Michael Sheen's Frost by quite a large margin. Nixon was almost at caricature status... the phrase "chocking on gargle" came to mind as I listened to his arguing. I know Frost's character is supposed to be the charismatic underdog so naturally you'd like him better as the David to Nixon's Goliath, but with Sheen I felt as if I were actually watching a man as opposed to a portrayal. The most important thing is that you walk out of the theatre really feeling wholly satisfied.

He's Just Not That Into You

It's good for a laugh even though it has some pretty contradictory morals and some painfully pathetic female characters. It's basically a movie where an audience full of women laugh, look knowingly at one another and mouth "I've sooo been there" while the unlucky handful of men who were brought against their will mime blowing their heads off with their finger in the shape of a gun.

I enjoy romantic comedies but I wish that a film that centers around women would give them a little more credit or at least common sense. Can they be smart but a little clueless as opposed to pathetic and clueless? Jennifer Aniston's character and storyline with Ben Affleck are the major redeeming qualities of the film. The only problem I had was that after the two characters make a pretty substantial argument against the notion that marriage is the equivalent a successful relationship, they go back on that logic and end up getting married. Oops. Sorry. When it comes to a romantic comedy with interwoven storylines see: Love Actually.

Paul Blart (for Sean)

There were a couple scenes where I laughed hard, as in the scene where Paul drinks for the first time and busts through a window. However, my enjoyment of this film was heavily influenced by my fondness of Kevin James, especially as Albert Brennaman in Hitch. The movie isn't great, the villains are pretty weak and it feels as if the movie runs a little long. This is a renter that unexpectedly hit number one because let's face it, everybody likes to see an everyman to come out on top.

And movies/TV shows that feature Segways always hold a place in my heart.

Confessions of a Shopaholic

It's kind of the poor man's Sex and the City movie... take that for what it's worth. Isla Fisher, who plays heroine Rebecca Bloomwood, is a fantastic comedic actress and is the type who is more than willing to throw vanity out the door in order to get a laugh. My anglophilia also allowed me to love Hugh Dancy's character Luke Brandon, Rebecca's boss and love interest.

At the end of the day, this movie will remain as nothing more than a jumping off point for better scripts for both leads... hopefully...

Doubt

If you go to a screening of John Patrick Shanley's Doubt, you will also be attending a Master Class in acting. When I was sitting in the theatre I was giddy. Having read the play in college, I knew I was about to watch a film about a priest who may or may not have committed inappropriate acts with an altar boy. Not the cheeriest of subjects, but I was giddy nonetheless. This is like the ideal Superbowl; the two best teams facing off under the best conditions, in the best arena. Here we have two Academy Award winners going head to head in a story that not only won the Tony for Best Play, but also the Pulitzer Prize for Drama.

Doubt tells the story of a charismatic priest played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, who reaches out to the first black student to be enrolled in a Catholic Parrish in 1964. This special attention is noticed by the young and idealistic Sister James played by Amy Adams, who dutifully reports her findings to the Parrish's iron-clad principal, Sister Aloysius. Needing nothing more than second-hand conjectures and her own moral certainty, Aloysius is determined to go to the ends of the Earth to prove her suspicions as truth regardless of the cost.

What both the film and play do so well is the same thing that I liked about 2006's Little Children. As soon as you find yourself feeling sympathy for one character, a change of perspective, a peculiar word choice, or even an eye flinch will turn your opinion upside down and back again.

What I loved about the play when I first read it was the attempt to challenge the audience in regards to our uncontrollable, involuntary snap judgements. Instead of making the priest a creepy deviant who spends his days lurking around corners, Shanley writes Father Flynn as a man from the working class Northeast who plays basketball, has a great sense of humor and wit, and an undeniable charisma. His adversary, the woman who is trying to convict a man of child molestation, isn't a young and beautiful, bright-eyed underdog but an aging, miserly tyrant. Cherry Jones, who originated the role on Broadway and won the Tony, went out for every performance with her eyebrows combed downward and without an ounce of make-up.

"When you take a step against wrongdoing, you are taking a step away from God, but in His service." That is the most revealing clue the audience will have into the character of Sister Aloysius. Her relentless and unforgiving determination drives her to do things that she admits takes her away from God's will in order to carry out his justice... But at what cost?

All four of the lead actors were nominated for Oscars including Tony Award winner, Viola Davis and previously nominated Amy Adams. Although I adore Amy Adams, her weakness definitely showed in the shadow of these powerhouses. She made the right choices but almost to a fault. There's only so many doe-eyed expressions an actress can give before you stop seeing the character and start seeing a one-note look.

And in regards to the Winslet vs. The Streeper Oscar race for Best Actress, I would be happy if either woman won. However, Streep's role was as my friend Derek calls it, "The Meat." I don't think there is a better actress in the world and if the Academy's decisions were completely objective, Steep would and should win every time. If somebody is going to beat her it will be because the writing in the other film is superior, not the performance.

Fun Doubt Facts:

John Patrick Shanley told Philip Seymour Hoffman in secret if Father Flynn really committed inappropriate acts. He also did this with the Broadway production.

Any scenes involving the children were added for the movie. Only Father Flynn, Sister Aloysius, Sister James, and Mrs. Muller appeared in the play.

Cherry Jones is in the current season of 24 playing Madam President Allison Taylor.

Although imdb.com claims Natalie Portman "turned down" the role of Sister James, it is rumored that she was already in talks to play the role until Amy Adams sought out John Patrick Shanley and convinced him she was the right woman for the role.

Milk

Slumdog Millionaire, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, The Reader, Frost/Nixon and Milk have all been told in some sort of flashback... that's got to be some sort of Best Picture record.

There's really nothing bad I can say about this film. Milk is a beautifully crafted biopic about Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man to be elected into public office, who's efforts were monumental in the Gay Right's movement. What this film does so beautifully is tell the story of a man's desire to open a nation's eyes to their own ignorance, but in a way that manages to stay far away from being preachy or obnoxious. Even as Harvey wields a bullhorn and shouts angrily to enraged masses, the message of the film is told with class and control while still maintaining a sense of urgency and passion.

It was Harvey's belief that the only way to begin the process of tearing down the stigma surrounding the misunderstood and distorted views of homosexuality was to find a way onto a public platform to be a face and the voice for the gay community. Definitely not by accident, the film carefully shows parallels between the misnomers that people had about homosexuality back then and the situation with Prop 8 today. Bumper stickers from the 70s saying "Protect Our Children", which were handed out to support an actual movement to remove all gay teachers and any supporters from schools systems, looked eerily like the ones saying "Protect Our Family" that are so prominent today.

Harvey's antagonist and an antagonist against Gay Rights as a whole, is represented mainly by Anita Bryant, a former singer and orange juice spokeswoman turned political activist. "If we give gays rights, next we'll have to give rights to prostitutes and to people who sleep with St. Bernards..." Only in the hands of a seasoned director can a film about this subject matter be catapulted from a story merely about gay rights into a story that challenges the idea of human rights.

It's not what you believe, but what is right.

The rest of the ensemble does a great job of creating an intelligent, fiery community of rich characters that surround Milk in his political quest. James Franco, who plays Milk's partner Scott, continues to prove that he's an actor to be reckoned in an understated and delicate performance with heart and depth. The only problem I had was with Emilie Hirsch. I loved him in Into the Wild and to be honest, he was fine in this. I just have a problem in general when actors playing gay characters act the "gay" first and then the person second.

However, this is a tiny criticism against the backdrop of a fantastic and inspirational film and it's my feeling that if there were any movie to beat Slumdog Milllionaire for the Oscar, it could be this.

But it shouldn't...

P.S. Josh Brolin gave a quality performance as Dan White and is coming off of a blazing 2007 but was this role really Oscar-worthy?

Taken

Taken had the potential to be a really great action movie. The premise really intrigued me as I love movies about revenge and retaliation, people recalling on forgotten skills (Thank you, Sayid Jarrah) and movies starring tall, British men. What I liked was that Liam Neeson, despite his gangly running, was believable as a man capable of all the drastic measures we were witnessing. I also liked that there were some truly unexpected instances of brutality. An unwieldable tunnel vision is the only thing that is believable and acceptable when somebody is fighting for the life of their child.


But man, did I have some problems. The first was in regards to the female characters. Now, before certain male compadres try to tell me that I'm being a whiny feminist they should know that I'm relatively traditional myself and actually enjoy certain traditional male-female roles and customs. I will always appreciate a door opened, an arm given or a jacket offered. However, the first thing that I did when I got home was to check and see if the writers of this were male.

They were.

It would be wrong of you to assume that I think that every male writer doesn't understand women and are all stuck in a medieval outlook on our gender as a whole. But the three women in the film were exactly as follows:

1. THE BITCH ex-wife
2. THE WHORE friend (blond of course) who causes all the trouble
3. THE MADONNA daughter whose virginity is at stake as each minute passes by

I know it happens and it's part of the DNA of many, many action movies but I'm sorry... one of these days we'll have to get past this. If James Bond is capable of evolving from one-dimensional females, anybody is.

The dialogue itself was pretty weak. For example, the daughter finally asks her father specifically what his job was. "I'm a preventer" he says. "What do you prevent?" she asks wide-eyed. "Bad things from happening." There was also a BBQ with some old "black-op" buddies that was good for nothing else but disposing of expository information. The best part of the film is a pretty decent speech delivered by a good actor which was done ten times better by Mel Gibson in Ransom that everybody has already seen in the preview.

Things go his way through 99.9% of the film; pipes break at an opportune time, mud splashes in an opportune place, a reflection appears at an opportune angle... I was starting to believe that Neeson's character was just incredibly lucky rather than exceptionally skilled, especially since out of the ninety Albanians he took out none of them, even with machine guns, could hit water if they fell out of a boat.

There's always an unspoken request for a suspension of belief when dealing with an action hero's unbelievable luck. If a movie is done well it's something I will do gladly. I just couldn't do it this time. Not with Jason Bourne still on the loose.

P.S. Over the years, I have learned that there are certain times where I can tell that nobody wants to hear my honest opinion unless I'm about to agree with them. Tonight, I sensed that this would be one of those times so when my male companions asked if I liked it I safely respond with my default answer: "I was entertained."