The Descendants

Payne’s Fault
Not Even George Clooney Can Work a Miracle
By Cole Smithey

Death and dying play a big part in cinema's current zeitgeist. From apocalyptic films like "Melancholia" to cancer-themed comedies like "50/50" there is a pressing dialogue of facing up to the reality of certain death with some amount of courage and dignity. So it is that Alexander Payne struggles to make funny the pending death of a comatose adulterous wife. Her husband Matt King (George Clooney) must facilitate a socially responsible passage for the mother of his two daughters. Hawaii’s sun-kissed shores and verdant foliage supply the setting.

Perhaps the best thing "The Descendants" has to offer is its depiction of Hawaii as a place like any other that only appears as a tropical paradise on the surface. Payne has mastered a certain style of deadpan humor exemplified in a scene where Clooney's suddenly informed cuckold runs down a suburban Hawaiian street in sandals. Matt is anxious to question his friends about their knowledge of the man his wife was cheating on him with before she was critically injured in a waterskiing accident that introduced the movie. There’s a slapstick air to Clooney’s gawky physicality and the sound of flip-flops hitting asphalt. Still, it’s a scene you feel like you’ve already seen a hundred times before. There’s numbness to the humor. Clearly the filmmaker believes his juxtaposition of plot revelation and character motivation have an inertia of latent comic import, but the sequence calls attention to the filmmaker’s intention and away from the story at hand.

Matt King is a native Hawaiian whose family ancestry traces back for several generations. A major aspect of the plot involves Matt’s powerful position as the primary holder of a land trust of 25,000 acres of protected land on Kauai. The family is pressing Matt to endorse a sell-off of the lush terra firma to developers who will permanently alter the landscape with whatever concrete-and-steel structures they deem most profitable. The sudden demand for Matt to act as a communicative dad to his 11-and-17-year-old daughters coincides with his desire to act responsibly in relation to the precious land he controls. His ability to make peace with his wife’s indiscretions and come to grips with her fate as it relates to their family and friends brings an added amount of character development. From a dramatic standpoint Matt’s transition to maturity doesn’t have much to push against. When he makes a controversial decision about the land trust in the presence of the other share holders the filmmaker doesn’t deem it necessary to show how the character handles the fall out in the moment. Since Matt’s wife is in a coma, there isn’t much for the grieving husband to do other than forgive her her trespasses. The entire narrative exists in a corner-painted bubble of predetermined logic.

Alexander Payne is certainly a competent director. He knows just where to put the camera. But as a writer he remains stuck in a navel-gazing rut. “About Schmidt” (2002) fell prey to Payne’s sluggish sense of ponderous melancholy humor. “Sideways” was his best film because he stepped outside his need to gaze upon ugliness for its own sake. In “The Descendants,” Payne presents melodrama as comedy. Nothing is as sad or as funny as it pretends. You might want to laugh or just die trying.

Rated R. 115 mins. (C) (Two Stars - out of five/no halves)

The Rum Diary

Hunter’s Legacy
Robinson Directs Depp
By Cole Smithey

"The Rum Diary" is clearly a labor of love from Johnny Depp who came across Hunter S. Thompson's unpublished early novel while visiting his literary friend at his home in Colorado. The discovery incited an instant agreement with Thompson to finally publish the novel and adapt it into a film. Keeping true to Thompson's iconic speech pattern and take-no-prisoners approach to life, Depp once again throws himself into a role he probably researched more than any other.

Apart from generating plenty of gut-busting laughs "The Rum Diary" maps out the wild and wooly events Thompson experienced while living in Puerto Rico in 1960 that allowed him to find his voice as a writer. Writer/director Bruce Robinson ("How to Get Ahead in Advertising") adapts the material with an ear for potent dialogue, an eye for crucial atmospheric details, and sensitivity to the romanticism of the piece. Amber Heard delivers the sex-appeal of six women as Chenault, a vivacious blonde with an appetite for danger and a libido to match.

Our favorite functioning alcoholic, Thompson-alter-ego Paul Kemp (Depp), arrives on the Caribbean Island with his sense of style intact. A snazzy pair of Ray Bans and a good suit disguise Kemp's bloodshot hangover from the night before when he goes for a job interview with Lotterman (Richard Jenkins), the contentious editor of a local rag for American tourists called the San Juan Star. Lotterman recognizes Kemp's resume is total bullshit, but gives him the job anyway. He needs to replace another writer who was "raped to death" in a public restroom. That’s right, “raped to death.” Kemp promptly falls into good company with the paper’s staff photographer Sala (wonderfully played by Michael Rispoli), who also enjoys imbibing, chasing women, and taking mysterious drugs whose unpredictable effects he is more than willing to catalog first-hand. Giovanni Ribisi is Moburg, an even more unreliable sort. He’s an eccentric writer who only shows up around the newspaper office on Fridays to collect his check. His literary specialty resides more in the realm of identifying and exploring underground realities rather than actually writing about them. As with the film’s entire ensemble, Ribisi pours out his performance like spraying lighter fluid on burning coals. The fact that Moburg never bathes and likes to listen to LP records of Hitler's speeches only slightly disrupts Kemp's take-it-as-it-comes lifestyle when our hero moves into the squalid apartment Moburg and Sala share.

The crux of the story rattles around Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart), a politically connected real estate tycoon who gets his hooks in Kemp to write pro-development stories that will help expedite his plans to push through the building of enormous beachfront hotel complexes. The loan of a candy-apple red ’56 corvette, a wad of cash, and the promise of getting near Sanderson’s sexpot girlfriend Chenault is all Kemp needs to go along for the ride.

As with Bruce Robinson’s enormously popular cult film “Withnail and I,” “The Rum Diary” is an alcohol-soaked story of a search for self that comes from crawling through the belly of the beast. In this case, that belly is the lush and rugged landscape of Puerto Rico’s native inhabitants whose dilemma of extreme poverty Kemp comes to recognize on visceral and intellectual levels. His revelation about the abuses of capitalism inflames him to forever mix rage with ink. “The Rum Diary” is a damn funny movie with a lot on its mind. It’s great fun to watch and listen to Johnny Depp play Hunter S. Thompson. If you miss Hunter as much as I do, you don’t want to miss this movie.

Rated R. 120 mins. (A-) (Four Stars - out of five/no halves)

Horrible Bosses

Revenge Fantasy
Pals Laugh Bosses into a Shallow Grave
By Cole Smithey

A much more successful bromance comedy than "The Hangover 2," "Horrible Bosses" benefits from the volatile comic mixture of chemistry between its actors, as well as a genuinely quirky script. Contentious scenes between Jason Bateman's corporate-climber Nick Hendricks and his sadistic boss Dave Harken (Kevin Spacey) are disarmingly hilarious due to the odd similarity between the two actors. Spacey and Bateman share an analogous delivery style. Even their facial features reflect a unity that gives their exchanges a rub of superfine comic sandpaper. These two men want to hurt each other. Nick, however, has considerably more reasoned motivation after being passed over for a big promotion he was groomed to fill. Sparks of comic magic fly between Spacey and Bateman like gunpowder on a mirror under sunlight.

Like his pal Nick, Kurt Buckman (Jason Sudeikis) is poised to take over his much smaller company. That is until his firm's beloved head honcho Jack Pellit (Donald Sutherland) suffers a heart attack that allows Pellit's cokehead son Bobby (wonderfully played by a disguised Colin Ferrell) to usurp Kurt's promised position as company president.

Charlie Day, the gifted young comedian with a high wispy voice, incites laughter like he's jumping landmines. His sidesplitting performance has all the hallmarks of a breakout effort. Zach Galifianakis, watch your back.

The screenwriters have more than just laughs on their minds. Talk about backhanded satire: Day plays dental assistant Dale Arbus. Dale suffers the misfortune of being a registered sex offender (for making the mistake of peeing in a public playground at night). At work, Jennifer Aniston's Dr. Julia Harris takes special pleasure in sexually harassing Dale while working on sedated patients. I dare you not to laugh during the scene where the sex-obsessed dentist puts a name to her habit of spraying water on Dale's crotch. Dale's upcoming nuptials only fan the fires of Julia's inappropriate lust. The horny doctor goes so far as to attempt some flagrant nastiness with Dale over the drugged body of his fiancée awaiting dental attention. When Julia says she likes to "fool around," she means it with a vengeance. Look for the word "dong" to enter American parlance in a big way. It's the thing Julia just can't get enough of. For her part, Anniston delivers on her dirty over-the-top dialogue like a seasoned pro. Add another feather to her cap.

In a cynical age of postmodern fatigue with an economic collapse that favors corporate pigs and warmongers, three dunderheaded pals conspire to kill their asshole bosses. Funny surprises and spasms of slapstick smacks whap you upside the head. "Horrible Bosses" is a feisty and sexy little comedy that throws a lot of punches. Most of them connect in either the funny bone, the groin, or the forehead.

Rated R. 100 mins. (B) (Three Stars - out of five/no halves)

Bad Teacher

Diaz Talks Dirty
Move Over Bad Santa, There's a New Baddie in Town
By Cole Smithey

For the first time since her unforgettable appearance in the Farrelly Brothers' 1998 gross out comedy "There's Something About Mary" Cameron Diaz fulfills her comedic promise. That "Bad Teacher" is every bit as dirty though not as raunchy an R-rated comedy comes as a welcome bombshell. The filth is kept primarily on a verbal level. But there are some real zingers. A hilarious scene involving a bedroom act of frottage between Diaz and Justin Timberlake goes over the top backwards.

Diaz plays bimbo-turned-middle-school-teacher Elizabeth Halsey. After her recent divorce Elizabeth is obsessed with raising enough cash to pay for breast enlargements she imagines will attract a wealthy replacement hubby. Elizabeth is willfully less than marginal as a junior high teacher. She likes to nap at her desk while letting her students watch classroom related movies like "Stand and Deliver." Diaz commits completely to her anti-heroine character with scene chewing assurance. Breasts are exposed. Splinters fly. Pot is smoked. Justin Timberlake's Scott Delacorte is a new-hire teacher who sports a bow tie as a marker of his family's wealthy pedigree. The trouble for Elizabeth is that Scott is attracted to her rival teaching associate Amy Squirrel (wonderfully played by Lucy Punch). Ms. Squirrel is a goody-two-shoes teacher who sees right through Elizabeth's unsubtle plans. Between some guffaw inducing dialogue and inspired physical slapstick lies a romantic comedy without a lick of romance. Here's a rare Hollywood comedy that actually makes you laugh.

Inevitable comparisons can be drawn with Terry Zwigoff's 2003 movie "Bad Santa." Where Billy Bob Thornton's foul-mouthed malcontent of cynical design posed a mild threat of bad influence on the kids he encountered, Elizabeth poses a threat mainly to herself. The satire here is clearly aimed at the insidious idea that plastic surgery to a woman's boobs will alter anything other than the way she already presents herself to the opposite sex. It's interesting to extrapolate on the idea that boob surgery probably isn't so popular in the lesbian community. Elizabeth proudly tells Ms. Squirrel that she doesn't eat "muff pie."

Jake Kasdan (director of "Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story") puts the audience squarely the film's suburban Illinois setting even if the movie was shot in California. John Michael Higgins's perfectly square performance as Principal Wally Snur helps anchor the town's mentality.

Elizabeth is a fish out of water. Her refusal to conform becomes an asset when she learns about a cash prize that goes to the teacher whose class does best on statewide exams. No more classroom screenings of "Dangerous Minds." Instead, Elizabeth goes off the syllabus to make her class read "Animal Farm" and "To Kill a Mockingbird." The problem is she still isn't a very good teacher. Desperate measures involve the comical seduction of school testing official Carl Halibi (played for laughs by Thomas Lennon).

"Bad Teacher" might just attain a bigger cult status than "Bad Santa" if only because it's more shocking to hear filthy lines delivered by Cameron Diaz than by Billy Bob. Diaz's character also has fewer redeeming qualities than Billy Bob's grump with a good heart. "Bad Teacher" acknowledges the baneful greed at the heart of America's obsessive mentality and pokes fun at it. I'll drink to that.

Rated R. 89 mins. (B) (Three Stars - out of five/no halves)

Mr. Popper's Penguins

Special Delivery
Jim Carrey Keeps Penguins Afloat
By Cole Smithey

Loosely based on Florence Atwater's 1938 children's book, "Mr. Popper's Penguins" never completely gels. But that doesn't stop Jim Carrey from using everything in his arsenal of comic physicality to keep his audience entertained. A Jimmy Stuart impersonation and a few Charlie Chaplin duck-walk steps go a long way. As a boy, Tommy Popper grew up knowing his traveling businessman father more by the sound of his dad's voice during nightly radio transmissions than from spending any real time with the old man. As an adult, Carrey's Tom Popper is an exceptionally successful real estate developer living in a top floor Manhattan apartment. Divorced from his wife Amanda (Carla Gugino), Tom spends every other weekend with the couple's children, Janie and Billy. Tom's career priority--becoming a partner at his company--takes a U-turn after he inherits six penguins from his recently deceased dad. Closing a deal to purchase Central Park's Tavern on the Green from Angela Lansbury's character, Mrs. Van Gundy, vies for the attention he gives to the penguins he promises to let Billy keep as a birthday present. The penguins' individual personalities don't go much beyond representative names like "Lovey," "Bitey," and "Stinky." Still, "Mr. Popper's Penguins" is an adequate family film in the end. Its light comic aspirations are exemplified by Mr. Popper's perky secretary Pippy (nicely played by Ophelia Lovibond) and her peculiar proclivity for the persistent practice of alliteration pertaining to the letter p.  

Audiences go to a Jim Carrey movie to watch the spastic comedian make funny faces and react to outrageous situations with his trademark rubber band physicality. We know there will be a romantic hook that, however strained, will keep us hanging on to the hope that his character will not go through life alone. Such is the narrative terrain in "Mr. Popper's Penguins."

A sentimental opening sequence introduces us to the child version of Carrey's character, who his absent dad calls "Tippy Toe" during their radio transmissions. Tippy Toe and his father share their nightly conversations with a sense of wonder about the far-away places the senior Poppers is visiting at the time. Locations like New Guinea and Romania cause Tommy's imagination to soar even as his mom tucks him into bed. Cut to the adult Mr. Popper living a successful but unfulfilled life. He has changed from a curious boy into a cynical executioner of real estate deals. With his trusty assistant Pippy beside him Popper closes a deal on Manhattan's famed Flat Iron building by convincing Jeffrey Tambor's character Mr. Gremmins that the time has come for him to pursue his dreams of sailing around the world. It's one of the film's best scenes. Tom and Pippy conjure up a vision of sailing excitement for Mr. Gremmins with the aid of office props. Carrey splashes water in Gremmins's face while Pippy aims a fan and tears shreds of paper. Mr. Popper is happiest when he's drawing on his mind's eye to close an expensive deal. He doesn't have a nurturing bone in his body.

The arrival of six penguins changes Tom Popper, if only because his children and ex-wife of 15-years guilt him into a mindset of caring for the odd little creatures as a way of winning back their trust. The filmmakers make the time-honored mistake of going too far with animal fart and poop humor, and it takes away from the hoped-for effect of inuring Mr. Popper, and the audience, to the waddling animals. You probably won't come away from the movie with any newfound appreciation for penguins, but you'll get what you came for from Jim Carrey.

Rated PG. 93 mins. (B-) (Three Stars - out of five/no halves)

The Hangover 2

Second Verse Same as the First
Todd Phillips Plays it Too Safe
By Cole Smithey

The formula mold that worked so well the first time around loses some steam in this follow up to the most successful R-rated movie ever made. With so much of its would-be surprise elements given away in its trailer, and even in the film's poster, "The Hangover 2" has a tough time mustering up the gross-out comic suspense the filmmakers are after. Still, there is at least one revelation that promises to exact more than a few guffaws from its audience.

Todd Phillips returns to the director's chair to shepherd the comedy around its alternately grimy and lush Thailand locations. Phil (Bradley Cooper), Stu (Ed Helms), Doug (Justin Bartha), and Alan (Zach Galifianakis) are reunited under the auspices of their "Wolfpack" group in honor of Stu's upcoming wedding in the sex tourist capital of the world. Stu's fiancée Lauren (Jamie Chung) is the all-too-perfect daughter of Fong, a wealthy Thai businessman (Nirut Sirichanya) who has little use for Stu. Fong's primariy interest is in advancing the career of his 16-year-old prodigal son Teddy (Mason Lee). One of the film's more sustained comic stretches comes during a wedding rehearsal speech when Fong publicly insults Stu to blood-curdling effect. It's never good to be compared to a bowl of white rice. Stu certainly has good reason to go for a drink with his pals after the humiliation he suffers during the dinner. A beer on the beach segues into an obligatory morning-after realization--in a seedy Bangkok hotel no less--that the previous night's forgotten events have left indelible marks on Stu, Phil, Alan, and even tag-along Teddy who has gone missing from the group.

Part of the problem with "The Hangover 2" is the reasonable expectation that the newly minted franchise would up the stakes on the comic gold the filmmakers stumbled upon the first time around. Great use is made of its Bankok locations to underscore the quick-cut rhythms of editing that capture in micro-flashbacks the shenanigans that put our unreliable protagonists in a world of hurt. If anything the film looks too pristine. Smarter though it could have been to take the audience directly through the group's zany experiences during their wild night of drink and debauchery in the notorious city. Just because the flashback form worked in the first film doesn't mean it works as well in the sequel.

The forward action at play once again involves finding a lost member of the motley group. A certain severed body part from Teddy increases the sense of urgency the boys share in locating Fong's son in time for Stu's promptly pending wedding. Audiences who come to "The Hangover 2" cold will likely enjoy it more than viewers who have an idea about what to expect. Although the comic energy rises and falls, there are a few inspired moments that make the comedy worthwhile. One such instant occurs when Stu plays guitar and sings about the events that have befallen him. It's a sweet song, and a very dirty one as well. A key leftover element from the first film is the hilarious photo sequence that comes during the closing credits. Don't walk out until the very end of the movie.

Rated R. 102 mins. (B-) (Three Stars - out of five/no halves)

Paul

Back to the Drawing Board
Alien Spoof Goes Poof
By Cole Smithey

A disappointment from start to finish, Greg Mottola's alien spoof comedy is dead on arrival. The director of "Superbad" can't do much with a damp script by actors/co-writers Nick Frost and Simon Pegg ("Shaun of the Dead"). The two genial Brits play best-friend nerds who go on holiday in America. After an uneventful visit to Comi-Con in San Diego, Graeme Willy (Pegg) and "the writer" Clive Gollings (Frost) take their rented RV on a tour through America's most famous UFO hotspots. Naturally Nevada's infamous Area 51 is on the list. A run-in with some mean-spirited rednecks proves less traumatic than when the duo meets up with Paul, a textbook alien (performed in motion-capture by Seth Rogen). Paul has been secretly imprisoned on Earth for 60 years. Paul has recently escaped thanks to the aid of a rogue government agent. The men-in-black are hot on Paul's trail with orders from Sigourney Weaver's head honcho character to get the big-headed creature back to his "fishbowl" or kill him. Graeme and Clive take on the mission to deliver the little gray man to an undisclosed location where he will return to his "people." The comedy perks up some when the trio meets up with Ruth Buggs (Kristen Wiig), a cute but naive creationist. Paul "enlightens" Ruth with a touch of his hand. She then takes a liking to cursing and the prospect of fornicating. The film's funniest gag involves Paul's interaction with a recently deceased bird. If the writers had created more such moments, "Paul" might have had a chance.

Fanboy culture is dead. Finally. The comic-driven fetish has succumbed to its readily identifiable underlying nature of "bromance." Geeky males of all ages can now freely bond over the fetishized faux-reality of their prized graphic art objects. A running joke in "Paul" involves the cover of a sci-fantasy book by "the writer" Clive Gollings. On it is a green alien Amazon woman with three--count 'em--three breasts lined side by side together. The reaction from anyone who sees the image is unanimously the same. "Three titties, awesome." The joke isn't that funny the first time you hear it. Hearing it repeated doesn't improve its laugh producing potential. The example identifies a major conceptual flaw in the film. In order for a bromance comedy to work, there needs to be conflict.

Frost and Pegg inhabit their amiable real-life friendship perhaps too well in "Paul." Their other two co-written films, "Shaun of the Dead" and "Hot Fuzz," allowed for a greater distinction between their characters. Both films were composite spoofs of specific genres, i.e. zombie movies and cop action flicks. "Paul" doesn't draw enough from its ostensible sources. Obligatory nods to "Men in Black," "Close Encounters of the Third Kind," and "E.T." are timid. The writers never dip their pens into sci-fi horror fare like "Alien" or "Species." Instead, Seth Rogan's quippy delivery is given free reign to embody a mirthful alien creature who could have used a bit more unpredictable influence.

If anything, "Paul" is a testament to Kristen Wiig's comic gifts to infuse palpable humor into everything she touches. Although she doesn't get to let fly with everything in her obvious arsenal, Wiig is the most funny aspect of the film. There are so many perceptible ways the filmmakers could have taken better comic advantage of Wiig's underused Ruth Buggs character. The missed opportunity points up one of the film's greatest weaknesses. It doesn't have a clear protagonist, or even a clear antagonist. "Paul" needed to go back to the drawing board.

 Rated R. 109 mins. (B) (Three Stars - out of five/no halves)

Rated R. 121 mins. (C-) (Two Stars - out of five/no halves)

 

Barney's Version

 

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The Movie That Wasn't
Giamatti Looks Like a Lover, But He's Only a Tourist
By Cole Smithey

We've all heard somebody say that so-and-so's life story should be made into a movie. But just because a producer thinks Mordecai Richler's faux autobiography is worthy of cinematic interpretation doesn't make it so. Debut director Richard J. Lewis gets saddled with deceptively less fertile source material than must have appeared to Paul Giamatti on paper. Giamatti plays Barney Panofsky, a non-practicing Jew living a bohemian lifestyle in '70s era Italy with his bi-polar wife. Said wife's suicide sends Barney back to his hometown in Canada to find work as a television producer. Barney also discovers his second wife--a Jewish Canadian Princess played by Minnie Driver--whose affections he quickly throws over at their wedding reception, no less, when he spots an elegant Shiksa by the name of Miriam (Rosamund Pike). Barney's thwarted attempts at wooing Miriam in the face of his marriage to "Mrs. P." come to a welcome end when he finds wifey in bed with his best friend from his time in Italy, Boogie (Scott Speedman). A vague murder mystery bookends the story, but "Barney's Version" spins with more narrative distraction than direction. Giamatti's Barney breaks character in a puffed up crisis decision that brings down the whole house of cards. Committed performances from a strong cast still don't make "Barney's Version" a rendition worth visiting.

Anytime a film sports a first-time director, there should be a warning on the poster--"Beware, New Filmmaker at Work." As a critic who has watched hundreds of films a year for the last 20 years, the most obvious lesson I've learned is to be wary of debut feature directors. It's clear that "Barney's Version" was produced more on Paul Giamatti's credentials than those of Richard Lewis.

Paul Giamatti is a strong actor. He's not as good at creating characters as an actor like Christian Bale, but he's a hard worker. Whether or not Giamatti will ever rise above his greatest performance, as Harvey Pekar, in "American Splendor" (2003) remains to be seen. Nonetheless, Giamatti makes the movie tick. There's something in his irreverent laugh that keeps you hanging onto his every flash of humble introspection. "Giamatti's Irreverent Gestures" would be an appropriate subtitle for the movie. Then there's his successful chemistry with Rosamund Pike, which is nothing to sneeze at.

"Barney's Version" is an episodic story that keeps the audience in its narrative gambit pretty well before dropping the ball like a chef walking out on his job with twenty tickets waiting in the window. The writing is fine. Everything seems to connect just great. And then, suddenly, the guy we're rooting for squanders everything he has--and he has a great family life. In turn, Barney gets too sick to remember anything. His life, and the story, collapses. We're left trying to reassemble the pieces of what we thought was an interesting story to somehow fill out its unsatisfying ending.

The film flat-out doesn't hold together. It wants to be a black comedy. It certainly could have gone in that direction since ironic death is a part of the equation. The movie seems to go in a Woody Allen direction of sardonic romantic comedy, but never commits. This format seems the most obvious for the story to play in. But then it reneges on everything with a wacky D.B. Cooper-styled-mystery resolution about Boogie's fate that has no real bearing on the main character, who we want to see come out of the story with some tangible prize of recognition. Barney looks like a lover, but he's only a tourist.

 Rated R. 109 mins. (C-) (Two Stars - out of five/no halves)

 

 

February 21, 2011 in Comedy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

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