Wednesday, May 4, 2011

NORSEPLAY

Your Humble Narrator is by no means immune to the appeal of a big overproduced superhero movie, & has been looking forward to Thor, opening this weekend. But although I was an avid Marvel Comics reader as a kid, I never read Thor—not even once, as I recall.

So I stopped by All About Books & Comics  on Central & picked up three random issues of Thor from the ‘70s—the period in which I would have been reading them—just to get a feel for it before seeing the flick. They were great to read, but this one, from 1975, was my favorite:
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I loved that the villain was “The Absorbing Man.” I thought, wow, a supervillain whose evil superpower is just that he’s really, really interesting…

RIP to Jackie Cooper, passed on at 88. His memoir, Please Don’t Shoot My Dog, is a fine read.

A pal sent me this news story, for its Tom Robbins-ish first line. I didn’t even know you could get high on bath salts…

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

ALL ABOUT YVETTE

Another RIP: Maybe three or four days ago Your Humble Narrator was discussing Yvette Vickers, saying to a pal that of all the wonderful trashy, tawdry tramps of the movies, Ms. Vickers was among the most insolently, maddeningly sexy.

Now it appears that poor Yvette, who was in Attack of the Giant Leeches & Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, in Hud & very briefly, but memorably, in Sunset Boulevard, has departed, perhaps as long as a year ago: in a true Hollywood-Gothic twist, a long-mummified body believed to be her’s has been discovered in her Beverly Hills home.

Ingrid Pitt, Tura Satana & now Yvette Vickers, all leaving this earthly realm within a six-month period... *sigh*

Monday, May 2, 2011

TALLY-HO, TRELANE!

RIP to a favorite of Your Humble Narrator’s, the droll character actor William Campbell, passed on at 87.


Campbell’s long & interesting career included supporting roles in such notable films as Love Me Tender, Hush…Hush Sweet Charlotte, The High and the Mighty & as the daredevil helicopter pilot in Battle Circus, but he also played the Caryl Chessman character in Cell 2455 Death Row & starred in the good 1956 noir Man in the Vault & in Coppola’s early thriller Dementia 13.

For many of us, however, Campbell will always be remembered for his two appearances on the original Star Trek: as the snide Klingon Captain Koloth in “The Trouble With Tribbles” &, better still, as the omnipotent-yet-foppish Squire Trelane in “The Squire of Gothos.”

Friday, April 29, 2011

HOODS

Two opening in the Valley this weekend:


The Henry in Henry’s Crime, played by Keanu Reeves, is a passive, soft-spoken third-shift tollbooth worker in Buffalo. One morning after he gets home from work, he’s gulled into participating in a bank robbery. He’s the only one who gets caught, & he refuses to give up his fellow robbers. Soon after he enters prison, his wife (Judy Greer) leaves him for another man.

Henry bonds with his cellmate, Max (James Caan), a con man so comfortable in prison that he deliberately throws his parole hearings so that he can stay in. But when Henry is released—he’s a model prisoner, of course—this crisply-paced noir comedy, directed by Malcolm Venville from a script by Sacha Gervasi, David White & Stephen Hamel, turns into one of the oddest caper movies I’ve ever seen.

Having been incarcerated for a crime of which he was innocent, Henry decides, for some reason, that he now ought to commit it for real. He talks Max into playing along with the parole board & getting out of the joint to help him.

Their preposterously contrived scheme involves—& I’m not going to explain exactly how—Henry insinuating his way into the theatre across the alley from the bank, at which an intense Eastern European director (Peter Stormare) is mounting The Cherry Orchard. Henry begins an affair with the actress (Vera Farmiga) playing Madame Ranevskaya, & eventually ends up playing opposite her in the role of Lopakhin, while his accomplices are raiding the vault next door!

I mean, I understand the suspension of disbelief, but …Keanu Reeves landing Lopakhin in a regional-theatre production of The Cherry Orchard? Come on.

Keanu Reeves is one of the all-time greatest demonstrations of star power—he’s indisputably been a movie star for more than twenty years now, on the basis of some mysterious charisma unconnected to any significant acting ability, or even, really, to charm. He’s been charming in some movies—Speed, most notably—but at least as often he’s been sullen & off-putting. However he comes across, though, come across he does. He holds the camera, & the audience. He’s a star.

In Henry’s Crime, he just seems pleasantly dense, & for the first half of the film, this works fine. But when he starts reading Lopakhin’s lines, & everybody is supposed to be struck by what a fine natural actor he is, the movie unintentionally veers into a kind of surrealism that even Buñuel never attempted.

It’s compounded because Reeves is surrounded here by a lot of really top-notch acting—by James Caan as the good-natured hustler Max, by Fisher Stevens as the jerk bank robber, by Danny Hoch as a nitwit accomplice, & by Bill Duke, who, as an observant bank guard, quietly whacks his one good scene out of the park. Our glimpses of The Cherry Orchard cast are good, too; good enough that I really wished they’d forget the ridiculous bank-robbery plot & just let us watch the play.

The best element of Henry’s Crime, however, is Vera Farmiga’s devastatingly dead-on portrait of a frustrated small-potatoes regional-stage diva. The performance is an instant classic, justifying this strange movie’s existence all by itself. Anyone who’s spent any time in the theatre will likely recognize this nervy, neurotic, narcissistic woman at once, with a simultaneous shudder & smile.



Made in a less-expensive, not-so-lush form of computer-generated animation, 2005’s Hoodwinked! was a spoofy retelling of the Little Red Riding Hood myth. It was filled with wacky references to other fairy tales, something like Shrek but without the same effortless wit. The voice cast was good & the film certainly had its moments, but on the whole it felt second-tier.

Due in part to its modest budget, however, Hoodwinked! was nicely profitable, so sure enough, this weekend a sequel arrives, about a year belated by Hollywood legal wrangling. In Hoodwinked Too! Hood vs. Evil, the plucky young Red (voiced by Hayden Panettiere, replacing the original’s Anne Hathaway) must team up with the deadpan Big Bad Wolf (Patrick Warburton) in order to rescue Granny (Glenn Close), who’s been kidnapped by a masked, cackling witch (Joan Cusack).

Lots of other bizarre characters voiced by celebrities are woven into the complicated storyline, including Bill Hader & Amy Poehler as Hansel & Gretel, Brad Garrett as a Scorcese-style Giant, Wayne Newton as an anthropomorphic harp, Cheech & Chong as two of the Three Little Pigs, & Andy Dick as a Hannibal Lecter-ish Bunny. Martin Short, David Ogden Stiers, Heidi Klum & David Alan Grier all talked into microphones for this film, & co-writer Cory Edwards returned as the Wolf’s chattering squirrel sidekick.

With actors like that riffing away diligently at their skewed lines, it’s inevitable that Hoodwinked Too! would have some funny moments. I liked Grier’s trash-talking, four-armed bridge troll, & Warburton, with his slow, sardonic line readings, is always good for a few laughs. Despite the cut-rate animation, the film isn’t without visual amusement, either, as in the Charles Addams-like look of Hansel and Gretel.

The trouble is that while the film tries hard, you can feel it trying hard. Too hard. It’s by no means awful, but it just doesn’t build up enough zany momentum, especially in its homestretch.

The director, Mike Disa, wrote this column for the Huffington Post in which he described how proud he was, after spending a decade working for Disney Feature Animation, to make a movie for little girls in which the heroine isn’t a Princess looking for Her Prince. I wholeheartedly agree with his sentiments, & I think, on the whole, that little girls (& boys) will enjoy Hoodwinked Too! reasonably well. But positive gender roles do not, by themselves, a classic make.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

LATE SHOWS

This Saturday evening, the Midnite Movie Mamacita screens the graphically remarkable documentary American: The Bill Hicks Story at 8 & 10 p.m. at Tempe’s MADCAP Theaters.


RIP to TV writer Madelyn Pugh Davis, who crafted the scripts for I Love Lucy, passed on at 90.

RIP also to Charles Laufer, founder of Tiger Beat magazine, departed at 87.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

KANT GET ENOUGH

Been looking for a video collage of interviews with contemporary thinkers discussing Immanuel Kant’s 1795 essay Perpetual Peace: A Philosophical Sketch? Well, who hasn’t?


Happily, Perpetual Peace, the DVD, is out today from Microcinema International. You can read my short review of it here, on Jabcat on Movies.

Monday, April 25, 2011

JUST SAY NO TO SHRUGS

Hope everybody had a great Easter. The Wife, The Kid & I celebrated in the traditional manner: Eating brunch while watching a spaghetti western starring a lizard. We went to Farrelli’s Cinema & Supper Club to see Gore Verbinski’s existential CGI feature Rango, in which a pet chameleon is accidently lost in the Mojave desert, & becomes the sheriff of a grungy town in desperate need of water.


For the first twenty minutes or so, it’s hilarious yet also curiously moving. The title character makes a compelling Everylizard, lost in an incomprehensible & dangerous world. But Rango gradually bogs down the same way that Verbinski’s Pirates of the Caribbean movies do—too much talk & too many plot points which, once set up, require a wearying pile-up of resolutions toward the end. A little tightening, & it might have been a small masterpiece, but it’s just a bit much, by any standards, & especially for a kids’ movie.

The movie truly for children that I saw this weekend was Atlas Shrugged, Part 1, now in its second week at the Valley Art in Tempe.

The adaptation of about the first-third of Ayn Rand’s 1957 magnum opus is about an abrupt disappearance, in the near future, of society’s “prime movers”—the inventors, innovators, independent business tycoons & so forth. The author’s view is that if such people were to one day take their marbles & go home in a huff, the rest of us parasitical mediocrities would curl up in the fetal position & everything would fall apart.

Most of us who have led working lives have observed that this result could more easily be produced in the managerial class by the sudden disappearance of janitors, waitresses, busboys & caddies. But despite the dizzying idiocy of the premise, I truly thought that Atlas Shrugged, Part 1 might be an exciting movie, as was the 1949 version of The Fountainhead, with its possibly even stupider & more odious premise.

It’s doubtful that any significant American literary figure was ever as giddily full of shit as Ayn Rand, but I’m not able to get mad at her. It would be like getting mad at a 13-year-old—not because she wasn’t intelligent (she was) but because her intelligence was in thrall to her adolescent avidity. Dreadful though her writing is, there’s a charge to it that’s unmistakably erotic, & the obvious absurdities that arise from her “thought,” even in an un-philosophical mind like mine, seem clearly driven by her gushy passion for strong males who Don’t Care What Other People Think.

The movie of The Fountainhead, which Ayn Rand loathed, at least captured some of this swoony sexual atmosphere, & you didn’t have to wade through the laughable prose to get it. The Atlas Shrugged film has none at all.

No hot stuff here—Ayn Rand’s sensibility may have been adolescent, but the sensibility of the Tea-Party types who now fetishize her work, & to whom these filmmakers are presumably playing, is a good deal more infantile. The signature moment of the movie, perhaps, comes when industrialist hero Hank Rearden explains why he won’t share “Rearden Metal” to one of the story’s many trumped-up mealy-mouthed bureaucrat villains: “Because it’s mine. Can you understand that concept? Mine.” Behind the handsome, smooth-voiced actor in the suit, you can see the stamping feet & clenched fists of the two-year-old who can’t understand any concept except “Mine.”

Taylor Schilling, the actress who plays heroine Dagny Taggart, looks very chic, but she delivers her lines less convincingly than an infomercial hostess. Her love interest, Grant Bowler as Rearden, is possibly even a little duller.

Given the excruciating dialogue that they have to speak, I don’t know that these two can be blamed for this. There are some real old character-actor pros in the cast, like Michael Lerner, Jon Polito & Graham Beckel, & they don’t come across much more vividly. There are a few pretty aerial shots of desert landscape, & a cool-looking suspension bridge design & a rousing musical score in the manner of a ‘70s disaster movie, but otherwise Atlas Shrugged, Part 1 is about as amateurish & tedious to sit through as any fiction film I can remember.

Backing up my opinion on this—I’m one of those parasitical mediocrities, after all—was the eloquent review of a fellow audience member nearby in the Valley Art: loud snoring, right around midpoint. Of course, maybe he was just tired from having to work a double shift so that moochers & looters could get welfare.

At the blessed arrival of the end credits, as I watched the elderly, Fox-News-demographic-looking audience shuffling dejectedly out, I felt pretty bad for them: I wondered if this was the first time some of these guys had taken their wives to the movies since Dr. Zhivago, & this is what they got. Terrible. Whatever your political bent, going to the movies ought to be fun.