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Julie & Julia (2009)
Mastering the Art of Being Weak
This movie poses a simple question: can an audience member rally behind a spoiled protagonist? What can we tolerate? What can we ignore? What can we forgive?
Norma Ephron (that's her name, right?) tests our limits in a movie replete with first world problems. Amy Adams, an elf-boy living in Queens, has a respectable mid-level job, living in her own apartment in the New York City Metro area, surrounded by her supportive friends and co-workers. Of course, having your own life and sharing it with an attractive husband who loves you (and is nauseatingly agreeable) is not enough for her. Rather, she bitches and moans about it, interspersing her temper tantrums with unprovoked emotional breakdowns.
"I'm gonna write a blog!," she says. Umm...okay, so do it. What's the antagonist there? Norma Ephron (that's *still* her name, right?) lets you figure that one out; she'll keep the shot on the actors seconds too long for the awkward pauses to set in. She (he?) also loves putting Julia in the center of the frame. Rules of threes, Norma!
Without spoilers, let me summarize this movie with one of its quotations by Amy Adams's character: "I'm a bitch. That's me, Sarah - I'm a bitch." Everyone knows it. Everyone acknowledges it. Amy even knows that they know. Yet, no one has the cajones to tell Julie to take a chill pill...
...because no one cares (which is ironic because the whole point of this movie was that Julie would get people to care about her uneventful life). Even Julia Child called the whole thing a publicity stunt. Julie Powell, if you're reading this, there are easier ways to make friends. Go help out for a charity. Bring a dog to the dog park. Whatever it is, it's easier than getting Norma Ephron (who?) to write a movie about you crying for attention and expect people to watch it.
Revenge of the Nerds (1984)
The Road to Nerdition: A Faulty and Tenuous Comedy
Revenge of the Nerds is a comedy about nerdy freshmen trying to obtain a most basic level of respect that would be needed for adequate human decency. Here, we will see that, regardless of the ending, the nerds never got their revenge.
The stereotypical jocks, the Alpha Betas, have no reason to hate nerds. From the beginning, the character "Ogre" merely pigeonholes two innocent freshmen as "nerds." The motive behind the character is never laid out. I surmise it is a cultural standard for the 1980's to hate nerds, and we as the audience are expected to understand that. This is the crucial point that one must remind himself of constantly as he watches this movie. To watch this movie in the 21st century is to endure a staggering barrage of prejudices against race, sexual orientation, and of course against those with high IQs. In fact, watching this movie now will jar your perception about prejudices in general; it will make the viewer say, "Hell, I didn't even know that was something worth being prejudiced about." The viewer will simply shake his head and ask, "Why?"
And I say now: why? Why was there just so much hatred against intellectualism in the 1980's that Hollywood devoted a full-blown movie to it? This question is virtually screamed when analyzing Dean Ulich. Dean Ulich is a self-identifying nerd with no backbone (note that nerd and no-backbone are not synonymous, although that's apparently a stereotype in this film). Dean Ulich runs a school where an entire building on campus burns down, and he brushes it off. He moderates a Greek council where there is no such concept as conflict-of-interest. Obviously, if this were real life, the Dean would have been impeached and sued in civil court for a motley of negligences, ranging from a house on campus being broken into and overrun with pigs to condoning an entire police force from looking the other way as soon as it has to do with fraternities (what else would campus police do then?).
Overall, it's difficult to muster the suspension for disbelief when people are spying on girls in the the bathroom (illegal wiretapping), impersonating as someone else while having sex (rape), and cheating their way to win in the school's most important social competition (using illegal drugs in a competition, especially when "trichloro-methylene", if real, would be an extremely dangerous drug for consumption). The antics will prevent suspension of disbelief, and if the 1980's were really like that at college, then God help all those born with the savage moronicism of the almighty Alpha Betas running through their veins. The prevalence of this Idiocracy is supported by at least three sequels, none of which can be readily memorable.
A couple of miscellaneous points about the movie (SPOILERS HERE): 1. They couldn't find a nerd who could actually play the violin??? 2. When they call for a nerd gathering, the first person to come was not a nerd... 3. The only way the nerds won were with the backup of the very masculine black Lambds. This, for all intents and purposes, ruined the point of the entire movie.
Career Opportunities (1991)
Oh, what I would do with $52,000 Reagan-era dollars and eloping with Jennifer Connelly...
Imagine yourself as a compulsively lying geek. Now, imagine your geek-self in the late 1980s/early 1990s.
This is Jim, the main character of Career Opportunities. He cannot hold a job in an era where jobs flow infinitely from a river of the Reagan heyday. As part of the generation of fresh college graduates without steady income, I envy the luxuries that Jim takes for granted.
Amidst his quarter-life crisis of how Jim should be as an adult, he lands a job as a "night clean-up boy" at Target. While normally this would be seen as unimpressive, Jennifer Connelly as 21 year old Josie saves the day with her charm, striking incisors, and of course, her low-cut tops.
As many of the other reviews on IMDb for this movie have stated: Jennifer Connelly makes this movie. To put it another way: there is no reason to watch this movie if the poignant Jennifer Connelly did not star. But she did, and with her voluminous bosom, she carried the film (to term).
It goes without saying that her natural beauty can be construed as objectified sex appeal for this movie. I, as an open chauvinist male, agree that that was her purpose. As much as we critics mind the boorish measures that Universal Studios takes to promote this film, I honestly believe that Jennifer Connelly is okay with flashing smiles and cleavage the most of all; after all, she is the one laughing her way to the bank.
And with that, the most salient theme is her physical objectification (coupling this with some visceral jazz saxophone solos really don't help). Red tops. Red necklaces. Riding mechanical ponies. These scenes were all attempts to distract my short-term memory from the pedestrian and pointless overall character of this film. For me, it worked.
What is probably the most disconcerting aspect of this film is the protagonist Jim. He is an unwieldy and jejune boy. When encountered with a beautiful women, we as the audience are forced to endure the awkward bouts of puberty. Simply, we want to grab Jim by the throat and say, "MAKE A MOVE! STOP F***ING LYING." Yet, we experience his own demise.
What I mean by the last line is that the film does not provide closure for the relationship between Josie and Jim (and where are we with Jim's father's late night eatings?! Surely, that contributes to the plot, right? Oh wait, that's right, I've given the film too much credit; those scenes have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO with the rest of the film). What happens is that **Connelly** saves the day, and Jim does nothing to deserve her.
If you want to look for a film where obtaining a beautiful (and clearly objectified) woman is justified, then look somewhere else. Jim has done nothing to deserve her. And we as the audience are to watch this inconsistency realize itself before our eyes.
And my eyes have melted. I want them back. This movie was not worth the loss of my vision. I hope you all can agree with that.
Ivory Tower (2010)
It's Syncopated! It's Radical! A Movie with an Offbeat Rhythm and Full of Dubious Moves
First and foremost, the star of this independent film is Chilly Gonzales. If you do not know who he is or what he does, I implore you to look him up first. His piano pop elevated the atmosphere of the film to an incredible level, and even if you have no care for the substance of the film itself, watch this film for the music alone.
And that substance is a Canadian Napoleon Dynamite-esque romp. Two brothers - Thaddeus and Herschel, compete in a battle of ideologies ("Chess is hate" and "Chess is love") over a mutually loved woman, Marsha. The spoils of the war known as chess are won by Herschel originally, which soon drives him into a spiral and causes him to lose his girlfriend, Marsha. The unrelenting rules of the game are then adopted by Thaddeus, who also succumbs to the game.
The film marries Gonzales's two apparent loves: music and chess. Specifically, "jazz chess" is a bright allusion to jazz itself, as a musical genre bending the well-defined structures of previous musical paradigms. The new style of how to play the game is seen as blasphemous, and Gonzales reminds us of the success associated with seeing things in a new light.
The quirky character of the film lends itself well; however, the execution was subpar. One must be cautious viewing any low-budget independent film, as the direction and film editing are off-putting. Likewise, Gonzales has moments of acting clarity...and other moments not. However, overall, Ivory Tower freely makes fun of itself and has fun doing so. If the viewers can appreciate the quirkiness, then they too might just be able to join in on the fun.
Checkmate. Checkmate. Checkmate.
Holy Motors (2012)
Perpetuating the Machine of Avant-Garde. Amen.
If you expect that something has got to give in this film, you will expect wrong. Holy Motors is a movie of a man whose job is to break the fourth wall. Perhaps the only reality is within the confines of the limo. Perhaps, to suggest anything is to be reaching for patterns and rationalizations that are simply not there.
The latter sounds more feasible...
Monsieur Oscar runs on a series of acted out "appointments," each a non-sequitur, estranged from an overarching theme. There is no logic - only the "beauty of the act." For reviewers to suggest otherwise is to place their interpretations into the film and adulterate it. What we have before us is Ars Gratia Artis, and nothing more.
With that being said, it is no surprise that this film was highly lauded at Cannes; the French film festival is the appropriate venue for experimental cinema. Holy Motors bred its playful eccentricities in this arena, spouting musical homages to Godzilla, nonsensical accordion interludes, and fear of technological advancement - all within the pleasant setting of Paris.
Where the Wild Things Are (2009)
Jonze's Wild Thing of an Imagination Works Wonders
A three hundred-thirty eight word book is successfully transformed into a feature-length movie of wonderment and the joie de vivre of childhood. More so than the limited themes of Maurice Sendak's award-winning children's book, director Spike Jonze's adaptation adds a depressive psychoanalytic spin of what it means to rule in a world filled with Things with "monsters" of their own problems.
Max, the son of a presumed divorced household, spends his time alone. He seeks a more imaginative camaraderie that neither his mother nor his older sister can satiate. Max must confront his "inner demons" in order to introspectively overcome his anger and loneliness.
Freud would have a field day with this film, and it is my certain belief that Jonze intentionally drove the plot in this direction. Each Wild Thing has a unique personality somehow tailored to Max's ego, and Max, as "King" of these Wild Things, must learn to make them all happy.
The psychoanalytic spin is accompanied by a truly spectacular score by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's and wonderful Jim Henson animatronics. However, I find that this adult-themed tailoring is done at the cost of depriving the film of any tailoring towards children. While children may enjoy the film for both the visual awe of the Wild Things as well as a resonance with the protagonist Max, much of the substantive content will have gone over the children's heads.
Again, I believe this is an intentional move on Jonze's part, and it had worked out in his favor.
Sister Act (1992)
It's Nun-thing Special; and Yet, it Counts its Blessings
Sister Act is a salient example of the late 80's/early 90's comedy. The film has slipshod camera direction, even more haphazard acting (most notably, Bill Dunn as Lt. Eddie Souther), and the quintessential freeze frame ending.
As an EGOT recipient, Whoopi Goldberg shines in this venue. Right from the beginning, she hits the right notes at the right times, inevitably revitalizing the moribund convent. After that, she sings some more. And then, she sings some more. Singing and dancing took up about 10% of the entire film. Viewers who enjoy a more musical-styled film will enjoy Sister Act (to which it is no surprise it spawned Sister Act, the Musical).
Sister Act is by no means "immaculate" or revolutionary. In fact, it is quite banal. From the very first scene, with the Nun spewing overt exposition: "Oh Whoopi. You are a rascal. I do not know what to do with you. You will NEVER fit in a conservative setting *wink*." I knew what I was in for as soon as those opening lines were spoken.
Aside from Sister Act's trite character, it is one of the most financially successful comedies of the 1990's - netting over $200 million. Whoopi must've done something right. My guess is that she makes her signature "Whoopi face" that acts as a mixture of a gorilla's face and Kennan Thompson.
And when she does make that Whoopi face, what comes out is a sequel, an EGOT, and a huge paycheck.
Lord of War (2005)
Lord of War Doesn't Misfire
Lord of War plays itself as an action-drama, when really the action of the successes of an illegal arms dealer is shadowed by the meditative performance as a period piece.
Nicholas Cage plays a Ukrainian-American transplant Yuri Orlov who strikingly resembles the infamous international arms dealer Viktor Bout. Just as infamously, Nicholas Cage does not disappoint viewers with his melodramatic "bout" of overreactions and mistimed lines. This is in addition to the general feel of 122 minutes of Cage playing a character that he, for a lack of a better analysis, is not. Strength and determination is needed for a rags to riches story in the deadliest black market, and Cage simply does not meet the demands for such a performance. Poor casting, however, should not deter viewers from the commendable nature of this film.
Plot is very tight and carries the viewer along Orlov's journey, both geographically and temporally. Director Andrew Niccol achieves this arching dynamic with the highs in Orlov's private jet (with a beautiful and rich performance by Bridget Moynahan as Ava Fontaine) to the lows of snorting cocaine cut with gun powder (as an aside, the blue overtones in that scene were a bit overboard).
SPOILER ENDING Orlov loses everything. His brother dies, his parents disown him, and his wife leaves with his child. The story is then immediately cut short when Orlov magically continues what he is best at: gun-running. Lord of War is a good example at how a perfectly healthy plot line can fall apart in a matter of one scene.
Perhaps Director Niccol wants to stay true to the similarities to real-life Viktor Bout, but regardless, Orlov is kept alive and well. With so much personal loss in his life, he does not stop, hesitate, or even flinch at the idea that his job has killed him as much as it has the victims of his customers. In fact, Cage's performance suggests that Orlov could care less about his family, where the dialogue says otherwise. Orlov escapes to his bull market of Africa with a smile on his face, and a bribe in his hand.
Aside from the emotionally bewildering ending and Cage's equally bewildering performance, Lord of War gives us a crash course in gun-running in an entertaining way. If you're anything like me, you will want your own personal AK-47 by the end of it.
Pink Flamingos (1972)
It's not "sick" to burn a trailer down - it's arson
First of all, I want to quickly squeeze in that the dialogue is wholly atrocious. I can't stand it. Now for the review...
John Waters misses the mark in Pink Flamingos, overshooting avant-garde paraphelia to eye-rolling licentiousness. The plot revolves around two parties with an overly uncanny fetish for filth (coincidentally not too far from each other). Why or how such perversion in their lives came to be is never explained. Even the setting is almost anachronistic in nature.
I watched this movie finding myself without care for any of the characters amidst this misfire of art. John Waters may have set the benchmark high for sickness in cinema, but watching it without any rhyme or reason implores me to wonder why I'm bothering watching any of it. If John Waters wanted to prove something by producing this movie, he grossly failed (pun absolutely intended).
It could be possible (albeit highly unlikely) that John Waters made Pink flamingos "ars gratia artis," but that failed too. The utterly shoddy camera-work coupled with the haphazard film editing is a quick recipe to make a movie unwatchable. Waters has never cooked it more perfectly.
My least favorite movie is Freddy got Fingered. That movie is mindless shock humor. Coincidence? I think not.
Sex and the Teenage Mind (2002)
Drop-Dead Atrocious: Absolutely no redeeming qualities in this movie
Bad movies can be categorized into two groups. The first group is that they're so bad, they're funny, and they ultimately achieve a cult status. The latter group contains movies that are flat-out bad and possess no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
I purchased Sex and the Teenage Mind for two dollars (tax included) at a run-down department store in a trailer park neighborhood. I am currently debating if I should go out of my way to return this movie for my two dollars back, even though I'll spend more on gas going there.
Sex and the Teenage Mind has no novel qualities. The plot is exceptionally cliché: sexually frustrated nerd and his moronic and equally sexually frustrated friend want to find sex in high school. Is there a deadline or something else at stake for this to happen? No, of course not, because that would follow BASIC LAWS OF SCREENPLAY WRITING, and that would just be too smart for this masterpiece.
The girl isn't even that hot. I don't understand why it received an R rating, although there were two vulgar words and no nudity. One cannot make a movie called "Sex and the Teenage Mind" and it not have any sex scenes. Furthermore, the acting was God-awful - every single actor and actress (maybe not Danica McKellar, but that's just a maybe). The jokes were puerile. The dialogue was joke within itself.
Basically, the DVD box is more interesting than anything in this 90 minute debate of me shooting myself in the temple. In summation, I purposely registered on IMDb to speak to the world of this complete abomination. Do not buy it. Do not watch it. Do not speak of it. MGM has produced many worthwhile movies, and because of that it is not right to slander its name with this atrocity.