Film Threat Review: Bachelorette

2012
Rated R
94 minutes

**

If bridal parties in real life behaved like the bridal parties in film, everyone would elope. “Bachelorette” will most certainly be compared to both “The Hangover” and “Bridesmaids,” but that comparison is not fair to those movies. Leslye Headland wrote and directed this adaptation of her off-Broadway play a year before “Bridesmaids” was released. Her story of the most unlikable group of women since “Sex and the City II” shares little with those far superior films besides a wedding-related misadventure.

The characters in “Bridesmaids” do and say some stupid things, but they are, at heart, good people. “The Hangover” crew isn’t so nice, but at least they are the butt of the joke. But the biggest difference between “Bachelorette” and its so-called peer films is that the other characters actually like the person who is getting married. The women of “Bachelorette” turn the story into one long, cruel fat girl joke punctuated by a “just kidding” ending.

In “Bachelorette” three emotionally arrested Mean Girls are asked to be bridesmaids by their token scapegoat, Becky (Rebel Wilson). In high school, they dubbed Becky “Pig Face,” and have thought about her in those terms ever since. According to the movies, weddings are the most significant event in every woman’s life. The troika are furious that not only is Becky walking down the aisle before them, her groom is one of the richest, most handsome men in New York City. It boggles their minds that Becky would be able to score a man who is essentially the prom king of the adult world.

In fact, much about the adult world confounds these women. If they each had their own derisive nickname, Katie (Isla Fisher) would be “Dense Face”; Gena (Lizzy Caplan) would be “Tramp Face” and let’s just give Regan (Kirsten Dunst), the group’s leader, the all-encompassing moniker, “Cunt Face.” I’m usually happy to see any of these actresses on screen. Dunst generally brings a lot of heart to her ice queen roles. Isla Fisher is a flawless comedienne, able to completely transform herself into whatever the script calls for. Lizzy Caplan has already proven that she can play a loveable fuckup. But Headland’s script is so lacking in depth, that they have nowhere to go besides what’s on the page.

Regan is the most wounded about the wedding, wondering why her hard-won beauty and success haven’t scored her a husband. She serves her Maid of Honor duties under cover, pretending to respect Becky to her face and ripping her apart when she is out of earshot. Katie has a vague idea that she “might be stupid,” but she doesn’t let that humble her, using people whenever possible and getting away with it because of her looks. Gena walks through much of the movie a complete sociopath, seeing those around her as little more than annoying little insects that sometimes prevent her from doing all the cocaine. She is closest thing “Bachelorette” has to a whole person, but that’s not saying much considering her most likeable quality is that she’s sad about her ex-boyfriend and the teenage abortion they shared.

Nonetheless, it is Gena’s storyline that provides the film’s one redeeming quality: Adam Scott. As usual, his affable-as-hell little face is like a golden turd in an overflowing cat box. I’m always happy to see him, even when the stench of a film is insufferable. (In fact, one of the two stars I gave this film belongs entirely to him.) Scott plays Clyde, the aforementioned ex, who also happens to be a groomsman in the wedding (just go with it). The only reason this pairing makes any sense is because Caplan and Scott have an established chemistry from their time together on “Party Down.”

That Becky would invite these terrible people, whom she hasn’t seen since her formative years, to play such a major part in her wedding, is baffling. But it is crucial to the plot. It is only by being bridesmaids that they have access to the wedding dress, which they accidentally destroy in a moment of insanely cruel drunken shenanigans. The troika spends the rest of the film running amok in New York under the guise of trying to fix or replace the dress. In the meantime, they do loads of drugs, visit a strip club, navigate male genitalia, take shots, insult people, do more drugs and then abruptly decide that they want to change their evil ways just in time to save the day they were responsible for almost ruining.

Headland seems to have been so busy thinking up “shocking” scenarios that she forgot to write any real jokes (unless you think an overdose is funny). It’s not the crudity of these women that offends. It’s their complete lack of integrity. I have plenty of time for characters with sexual confidence and profane bluntness but not so much for those who use their powers to demean everyone who crosses their path. Even then, I can enjoy a film about abhorrent people so long as they get their comeuppance, or end up alone with their misery (see “Very Bad Things” for an example on how to properly execute this maneuver). Instead, Headland expects her audience to accept her characters’ all-too-convenient third act changes of heart. I’d be shocked that Becky forgives them for nearly ruining her wedding, if she had any personality at all besides being completely comfortable with herself.

It doesn’t help that we are completely in the dark about Becky and Dale’s relationship. They rarely share a scene and she never really talks about him or he about her. It’s not that they are an unlikely couple. It’s that SO MUCH is made of Becky being a “fat loser” that it feels like it could turn into “Carrie” at any moment. Actually, a telekinetic wedding massacre would have improved this movie tremendously.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

September 7, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Film Threat Review: Hit and Run

2012
Rated R
100 minutes

***

I’m not what you would call a Dax Shepard fan. His perpetual monotone tends to grate. But I adore Kristen Bell. She was captivating on “Veronica Mars.” In interviews, she seems smart, genuine and good-humored. She can sing and dances like a hellcat. She also loves Dax Shepard. Incidentally, he wrote and co-directed a movie for the two of them to star in. It’s called “Hit and Run” and it’s a Tarantino-esque romantic comedy in which the romance is as much about the car as it is about the girl. I was curious to try and find out what Kristen Bell sees in Dax Shepard. And I think I sort of did.

Shepard and Bell’s fantasy counterparts are Annie and Charlie Bronson, a young couple living in a one-horse California town where Annie teaches at the local college. Charlie’s income source remains a mystery. When Annie’s portfolio review turns into a potential dream job offer, she faces the classic dilemma of a girl having to choose between her career and her man. This time, the hitch is that her boyfriend is in the witness protection program and her job is in Los Angeles, the very city he had to leave in order to keep on living.

Still, Charlie loves Annie so much that he decides to risk his life in order to stay with her. He rationalizes his decision with the fact that L.A. is “a pretty big city” and that perhaps enough time has passed the threat has blown over. This might have even worked if Annie hadn’t accidentally tipped off her jealous ex-boyfriend (Michael Rosenbaum) about her plans. Claiming that he fears for her safety, her ex sets in motion a series of events, which culminates in a little bit of ultraviolence and Shepard’s version of the Mexican standoff – a multi-participant car chase at an air field. Among the many parties on their tail is Randy, the bumbling U.S. Marshall assigned to Bronson’s case, played with utmost idiocy by Tom Arnold. There’s no other way to put it; “Hit and Run” lost coolness points by casting Arnold and really for even creating this character in the first place. During these moments, the film resembles the sillier parts of the “Dukes of Hazzard.”

Another weak link is Kristin Chenowith, not for her performance – she merely did what was asked of her – but for the incredibly tired character of the brassy, diminutive substance abuser of a boss who shows up only to say the word “Xanax” a whole bunch of times and try to make the audience blush. In fact, Annie is the only female character to whom Shepard gave a unique personality.

But some of Shepard’s familiar characters are quite likable. Especially Bradley Cooper as Bronson’s former colleague who wants his revenge. Cooper plays Alex like Drexel’s (from “True Romance”) younger, gentler dreadlocked thug brother. He also has some of the funnier lines and a few sympathetic moments. Alex is a dog lover, for instance. Ryan Hanson (“Veronica Mars”) has a small but memorable role as Alex’s suited henchman. David Koechner is appropriately menacing as a lascivious hillbilly who gums up the already gummy works real good.

I should also mention the car. It’s a tricked-out 1967 Lincoln Continental that Charlie custom built with his now estranged father. The car is the first of many things from his past that Charlie neglected to mention to Annie. He also left out his knack for stunt driving; a skill that gives their getaway from the bad guys a fair chance of success.

Kristen Bell has the ability to be adorable in everything she does, and Annie is no different. Annie could have easily come off as nagging and uptight, but most of the time, you’re on her side. Unfortunately, even she can’t sell the inconsistencies in her character and the massive conflict between her and Shepard that seemingly comes out of nowhere. Well, maybe not, “nowhere.” It’s at the traditional point in the third act in which the girlfriend has had enough and storms off, deciding that despite her intense love for her fuckup of a man, she can’t be with him anymore. Shepard clearly took such pains to avoid clichés but a couple of them snuck by him anyway.

Charlie Bronson is Dax Shepard’s Tyler Durden. Shepard has taken Tarantino’s fan boy fervor that much further, making a film that is a love letter to both his hobbies and his lady. It’s so goddamned earnest that even when it’s lame, it’s still a little bit cute. Dax Shepard doesn’t care if you get his references. He just wants the chance to make them.

He also wanted to make a little bit of car porn. Right before Charlie Bronson shows Annie what he can do behind the wheel, he straps her in with a hilariously large restraint belt and purrs, “It’s about to get pretty radical.” And then it actually does! But Shepard doesn’t overdo it. He spends as much time making fun of the vehicular fetishizing as it does reveling in it. Annie notes that the car is an asshole magnet, which seems to attract those she can only describe as “rapists.”

The film isn’t all flash. It has an emotional center that explores being able to forgive and forget and keep the past in the past. It hypothesizes that change is possible. Shepard reportedly has a history of drug abuse, but now he’s on a TV show about having kids and gets his kicks by renting sloths for his fiancé. There are always exceptions but, for the most part, people are known to grow up eventually. Perhaps it’s not out of the realm of possibility that “Hit and Run” is a window into the Bell/Shepard relationship. If it is, they seem like a sweet couple.

Overall, I can’t say I’m a Dax Shepard convert. I’m not going to scour the back catalog. But I will probably watch whatever his brain comes up with next. He’s piqued my interest with this one. There is room for improvement, but he might win me over yet. Really, I’m just happy if Kristen’s happy.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

August 22, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: . Author: Baxter . Comments: 2 Comments

Film Threat Review: Old Goats

2012
Unrated
101 minutes

****

Getting older is something that tends to sneak up on people. Though the pages of the calendar fall away, they’re still carrying around the same brain they’ve always had. They’ve doubtless grown from their experiences, but their essence, if you will, is ageless. And yet, they are expected to adhere to the paradigm of certain age benchmarks, even if they feel nowhere near ready to be there in their mind.

At 18, they must move out of their childhood home and begin life as an adult. At 30, they should be well on their way to settling down and starting a family. At 40, they are “over the hill” so they may as well start practicing their Viagra jokes and listening to soft rock. At 65, they’d best be ready to quit their job and take up bingo. There’s an often-used phrase associated with stories about people who aren’t adhering to societal standards of what they should be like at their age: “Coming of Age.”

If you think about it, it’s kind of an insulting term because it implies that you need to change your life in order to become what people expect of you. The goats in “Old Goats” are three men who are surprised to find that they have become part of a senior subculture. Taylor Guterson’s debut film is a unique depiction of the how these men come to terms with their elderly identities.

“Old Goats” follows Dave, Bob and Britt, three Seattle-area men in the twilight of their years. Dave, our sometime narrator, is fresh from forced retirement and still feeling the sting. He keeps himself busy with activities and relishes the time he spends with his friends, as it keeps his mind off his somewhat tense marriage and lack of purpose. Bob, an impulsive opportunist, plunges himself into writing his memoirs and, as he reflects on his past, starts to wonder if he was actually a dick in his youth. Britt lives in squalor on a boat that’s not really meant to be a house and isn’t really used as a boat. He’s lived this way for thirty years, and when the time comes for him to act on his long-touted maiden voyage to Hawaii, he chickens out.

All of these men still have something to learn about themselves. They each want to turn their retirement into a new beginning, but, ironically, fears of wasting their time keep them from acting on their grand plans. Dave and his wife had, at one time, planned to split their retirement years between Seattle and Tahoe, but Dave is now dragging his feet, not feeling ready to leave his friends and his familiar environment and relegate himself to bona fide retired life. Britt has been in a state of perpetual bachelorhood for his entire adult life, but it’s not the glamorous, Bruce Wayne sort. Instead, he’s practically a hobo, eating terrible packaged food and reading by lamplight in his moldy old boat, removed from any sort of technology, including a phone. After Britt bails on his trip, Dave and Bob make it their mission to reinvigorate Britt and introduce him to modern life. In the interest of meeting a lady, Britt begrudgingly agrees to get a cell phone and a computer. But he’s terrified of human interaction and is quick to retreat to his floating turtle shell whenever something goes wrong.

Bob is the only one who doesn’t dwell on his failures, continuing to live life to the fullest. He’s constantly throwing things at the wall to see what sticks. He’s not worried about the future as much as he is about his past. He knows it’s too late to do anything about it, but he still hopes that his presence on Earth has been a positive experience for everyone with whom he interacted.

The most refreshing thing about “Old Goats” is that it treats old people like people. They aren’t magical sages, imparting their wisdom on the young. They aren’t delightfully irreverent, busting a rhyme at a wedding reception and matter-of-factly spewing vulgarities to the shock of their juniors. They are real goddamned men with desires both recreational and romantic. They know they’re old because their environment won’t let them forget it. But they are still the same people they always were.

They are what everyone eventually becomes: older versions of themselves. The only difference is that their every move is tainted by the idea that their days are numbered. Being fulfilled has become a lot more important. Now is the time to write that memoir or go on that blind date. Now is the time to get in a round of golf and put off going to Tahoe with your wife to hang out with your dear friends whom you may never see again.

The film does meander a bit, and has trouble settling on a narrative style. But once it hits its stride, it remains compelling to the very end. Guterson’s film pays homage to the gritty verity of Mike Leigh (“Naked”, “Happy Go Lucky”). He also employs Leigh’s dry, morbid and sometimes unnerving sense of humor. It probably doesn’t hurt that Seattle and London have comparable weather. An overcast sky goes a long way toward conveying melancholy.

Credit is also due to the non-actors who are playing scripted versions of themselves. They clearly understand their characters’ motivations and have no trouble at all dispatching them to the audience. Amateur performers can sometimes take you out of a film. But the real Dave, Bob and Britt just make you want to join them for a beer.

Rather than making their age the punch line to the younger audience, Guterson chose to let these old goats serve as a window into the future. When the elderly are hidden from view in their group homes, they are but an abstract idea, removed from the radar of the callow. But Britt, Bob and Dave represent three possible futures. They are a reminder that people don’t become irrelevant just because they’ve left the work force and are (maybe) collecting Social Security. In some ways, life is just as long as it is short.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

August 22, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Film Threat Review: Take This Waltz

2012
Rated R
116 minutes

*****

Is emotional infidelity as hurtful as physical infidelity? “Take This Waltz,” Sarah Polley’s striking sophomore film, explores this and many other themes concerning the marriage of a young, Torontonian hipster couple and the provocative rickshaw driver who comes between them. Michelle Williams builds the case that she’s one of the greatest actresses of our time, with a remarkably nuanced performance as the dissatisfied wife. Seth Rogen nails his turn as the oblivious would-be cuckold. Though there are a handful of missteps dispersed throughout, and marital strife in film is generally well-worn territory, Polley’s intimate and complex story often feels like a cinematic revelation.

Freelance writer Margot (Michelle Williams) meets Daniel (Luke Kirby) on a return flight from a business trip and they are immediately drawn to one another. Though Margot is off the market, she allows herself to flirt with this attractive stranger all the way home. After all, she expects that she’ll never see him again. But when Margot learns that Daniel is her neighbor, she is forced to explore why it is that she is so taken by this man who is not her husband. Daniel likewise finds himself smitten and, as such, refuses to disappear from her periphery. Little by little, she lets him in until she is focused on him completely and her husband, Lou (Seth Rogen), replaces Daniel on the sidelines.

Though Margot is the one who considers straying, it is not a black and white case of betrayal. Polley’s script efficiently outlines what’s been eating Margot and Lou’s relationship via a series of failed seduction attempts by Margot. The more tempted she is by Daniel, the harder she tries to re-connect with Lou to give her a reason to stop the madness. But Lou is absorbed in his work writing an all-chicken cookbook. “I’m making chicken,” he explains, during one of his many brush-offs. “You’re always making chicken!” she explodes. She is pleading for him to give her a reason to stay, but she cannot divert his attention from the stove. Lou doesn’t understand how dire the situation is and he chalks it up to momentary insanity on her part. When he attempts intimacy with her, it takes the form of baby talk and the bandying of mutilation fantasies. Margot plays along, but becomes increasingly frustrated as it fails to lead anywhere physical. Though this may have been enough for both of them at one time, Margot now desires a more mature sexual relationship than the one Lou is (or isn’t) providing.

We think we know where our moral limits lie, but sometimes those boundaries are tested. Margot is clearly depressed and, yes, a little immature, but she isn’t a bad person. She is very emotionally attached to Lou and never imagined that she could be lured away from him. But when physical needs aren’t being met, it’s not hard for the emotional connection to fray as well. She’s afraid of hurting him but he unknowingly continues to make her miserable on a daily basis. Margot convinces herself that so long as she’s not actually touching Daniel, she is remaining faithful. As their attraction deepens, she fantasizes about a time when she has “earned” the right to give in to temptation. She requests a date to kiss Daniel… after she has remained loyal to Lou for 30 years. It’s not until Daniel responds with a vividly sexual monologue about what he would “do” to her, and ends it with a declaration of love, that she starts to realize that what she’s doing might not be quite so innocuous after all.

Though she’s not all that unusual in the real world, in cinema, Margot is a singular character. She’s lonely and discontented but she has been able to ignore these things up until now thanks to complacency in her marriage and the lack of a social support group. Her only friend besides Lou is her sister-in-law, Gertrude (Sarah Silverman). She can’t very well discuss her affair with someone who will certainly side with Lou. To make that friendship even more strained, Gertrude is attempting to overcome her addiction to alcohol, one angry step at a time. Though she offers a few nuggets of abstract wisdom, Gertrude cannot be anyone’s shoulder to cry on. With no one to talk her out of her escalating flirtation with Daniel, Margot instead continues to talk herself into it.

For my money, Michelle Williams is the most fascinating actress working today. She knows how to convey a million emotions in one frown. She’s movie star cute, but she’s also capable of conveying a very relatable chasm of despair. In the scant moments when Polley’s script stumbles, Williams uses her delivery to deftly smooth it over. In their first conversation, Margot confesses to Daniel that she is “afraid of connections.” Before you have time to groan, she explains that she’s referring to airport layovers. She becomes overwhelmed with the stress of it all, “wondering if I’ll miss it. I don’t like being in between things,” she says. “I’m afraid of being afraid.” In the hands of another actress, these lines, which smack of character Cliff’s Notes, would sound painfully forced. But Williams imbues them with depth. Later, in Daniel’s apartment, her body language tells us what the dialogue does not. There is no question as to why Daniel can’t get her out of his head. She doesn’t know what she needs but he wants to be the one to give it to her when she figures it out.

While this is most certainly the Michelle Williams show, the supporting cast holds its own. Delightfully, Seth Rogen returns to his “Freaks and Geeks” roots, choosing a dramatic performance with comedic undertones over the comedic performance with dramatic undertones that made him a household name. Sarah Silverman delivers a refreshing take on the struggling alcoholic character. Instead of wallowing in her affliction, she rages. She’s pissed off about her lot and she’s not afraid to be brutally honest about it. Luke Kirby occasionally comes off as cheesy and, as such, makes Daniel seem slightly untrustworthy. It might have been more effective to believe the attraction with someone a little more Ryan Gosling and a little less Matt LeBlanc. For the most part, however, the audience can’t help but see Daniel through Margot’s eyes, and in those moments that he’s making her swoon, her reaction feels completely justified.

Polley compliments her elegant script with her remarkable eye for detail. She peppers her scenes with minutiae that lend a borderline subliminal authenticity to her characters. In most movies, it seems like the characters have a different outfit for every day and they are flawlessly put together as if they have a personal stylist doing their hair and makeup every morning. Though they are relatively fashionable people, Margot, Lou and Daniel repeat clothes. The straps on Margot’s tank top are often twisted. We see sweat beading on their foreheads and backs and it looks, well, sweaty. Here, nudity isn’t used to titillate but to show familiarity between characters. As much as “Take This Waltz” is a morbid fairy tale, it is very much set in the real world.

Shot in the middle of a hazy, sweltering Toronto summer, Luc Montpellier’s cinematography at times exudes a feverish quality. He frequently uses tracking shots lending many scenes a poetic fluidity. His camera isn’t afraid to get right up into the faces of the characters. After all, their faces are where the action is. By the film’s conclusion, the audience feels as intimately acquainted with the characters as they are to each other.

Polley’s tremendous talent shines brightly in her second feature. She is clearly capable of great work. I’ve always enjoyed her performances on screen, but it is behind the camera that she truly flourishes.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct). 

August 22, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Film Threat Review: Game of Werewolves

2012
Unrated
98 minutes

***

There are three types of comedic horror films: The films that are unintentionally funny, the genre parodies and the traditional horror films that happen to contain some jokes. “Game of Werewolves” is in the third category, and it’s a category that could use some new blood. Harkening back to Peter Jackson’s early horror period, Juan Martinez Moreno’s film pits an unsuccessful writer, his incompetent editor and a bumbling childhood pal against his cursed childhood town and the werewolf that stalks it. Moreno’s script is derivative at times and a bit of a sausage fest, but our protagonists are amusing enough in their ineptitude and the practical effects are a sight for sore eyes in this CGI-laden world.

An illustrated back-story brings us up to speed on the century-old curse that plagues the tiny town of Arga. When we meet Tomas (Gorka Otxoa), he is on his way back to his hometown to accept an award for being a Local Boy Made Good. Never mind the fact that he’s only sold two copies of his first novel. He accepts their gift of his expired aunt’s creepy old mansion so that he can concentrate on writing his follow-up failure in peace. Little does he know, the townspeople have brought him there as a key fixture in their one-and-only shot to break the curse and keep a second curse from taking effect. (Man, you do NOT want to fuck with gypsies.) Also on the wrong side of the townspeople is Tomas’ former best friend, Calisto (Carlos Areces). Calisto is a portly slacker who carries around a lot of baggage about his perceived abandonment by Tomas. Tomas’ editor, Mario (Secun de la Rosa), soon joins them and the shenanigans commence.

There are some familiar elements at play. Calisto is basically Nick Frost’s “Shaun of the Dead” character with a moustache. The werewolf suits are very old school (rubber hands, red eyes and a furry butt), and the transformation scene is straight out of “American Werewolf in London.” I wouldn’t necessarily label these parallels as negatives. Maybe it doesn’t look “real,” but what does a real werewolf look like, anyway? We all know computers can do amazing things, but I like thinking about the time it took someone to put on the makeup or set up an effect. That’s what impresses me more than someone pushing buttons. Yes, I realize how crotchety that makes me sound.

There are things that don’t work so well. Early on, there is a long scene which has Tomas engaged in a one-sided conversation with his dog for the very transparent sake of exposition. If Tomas grew up in Arga, and the curse has been around for 100 years, why has he never heard anything about a werewolf before now? You’d think a writer would be more observant. Then again, it’s implied that he’s not a very good writer. Sometimes, Tomas, Mario and Calisto are unbelievably stupid for the sake of a joke. Does Calisto really not know the difference between a candle and a stick of dynamite? Does Mario really not grasp the importance of opposable thumbs? These jokes are a little too far-fetched to play.

Yet there are also moments of ingeniousness. About 60% of the gags feel fresh which is enough to keep you engaged. The action is ceaseless for much of the film with explosions, gunfire and mauling a-plenty. Late in the story, Mareno introduces a very charismatic police officer character that deserves a film of his own. “Game of Werewolves” may not be an instant classic, but it will tickle you for a while and perhaps inspire someone to do it better.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

July 3, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Film Threat Review: Ira Finkelstein’s Christmas

2012 SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
90 minutes

**

“Ira Finkelstein’s Christmas” is an independently produced film, but it certainly doesn’t seem like one. It has all the brightly lit, dopey scored, schmaltzy scripted, hammy-acted qualities of a made-for-basic cable family special. But Seattle-based writer/director/producer Sue Corcoran of Von Piglet Productions apparently figured out that religious-themed horror comedies (“Gory Gory Hallelujah”) were nowhere near as marketable as religious-themed family films. And you thought we were just about Mumblecore in the Emerald City.

I actually feel a little weird even reviewing this film, as it is so not for me. I do have a kid, but she’s too young for something like this. Besides, I am raising her in an amoral urban community, so her first Christmas film experience will be a double feature of “Emmett Otter’s Jug Band Christmas” and “Gremlins.” But for those suburban parents who park their kids in front of Hannah Montana and iCarly (or whatever), this will be right up their alley. Maybe they can all enjoy it together after they get back from dinner at the Outback Steakhouse. They can pop some Jiffy Pop and put on their matching Snuggies before settling in for the next 90 minutes. After that, it’s straight to bed (for everyone!). This hypothetical family will deem this movie “cute” and “touching” and maybe even “adorbs.” It will make them feel warm and fuzzy and accepting of all organized religions. I’m not trying to be snarky here. I’m honestly attempting to imagine the target audience for “Ira Finkelstein” because I’M NOT IT.

Let’s pretend that my favorite Christmas movie isn’t “Scrooged.” In that case, Elijah Nelson sparkles as Ira, the little Jewish boy who just wants to have a magical Christmas because being one of the Chosen People is just so dull. Sure, they get eight presents, but they don’t get a tree or garland made from stale popcorn or earworm carols sung ad nauseum. For years, Ira has been trying to convince his parents to let him celebrate Christmas. He almost gets his wish, as they prepare for a holiday ski trip. But then his party planner mother (Angela DiMarco) and small-time director father (David DeLuise) simultaneously stumble upon a potentially career-boosting gig, working respectively for and with a high-maintenance minor television star. They make the decision to send Ira to Florida to spend the holiday with his paternal grandparents. Ira is much less distressed over their neglectful parenting than he is their cancelled vacation. As his parents hurry him onto the airplane, all he’s thinking about is that elusive white Chrismukkah.

During his connection in Chicago, Ira meets another little boy with dashed Christmas wishes. Mikey (Justin Howell) would rather spend the holiday with his single mother, but she believes she has his best interest in mind by sending him to stay with his cousins in Christmastown, WA (a fictional town loosely based on the real Bavarian-themed Leavenworth, WA, where they also filmed). Mikey doesn’t think a Christmas in Florida sounds so bad. Luckily, Ira’s grandparents haven’t seen him (not even a photograph?!) in years. Likewise, Mikey’s cousins have only a fuzzy memory of his appearance. (Can you guess where this is going? Is the Pope a senile old man?)

Naturally, Ira gets a wild hair and decides that he and Mikey should switch places. Despite a lack of physical resemblance and Ira’s severe near-sightedness, the ruse is as simple as trading hats and “unaccompanied minor” badges. Airport handlers (and estranged relatives) sure are morons.

Both kids also have cell phones of their own, so they are able to keep up the charade when their parents call to check in. Despite minor slip-ups for both parties (Ira doesn’t know Mikey’s parents are divorced, Mikey doesn’t know anything about being Jewish and is much more athletic than Ira), no one is the wiser. But Ira soon learns that Christmastown might not be the winter wonderland he was expecting. And Mikey starts to get used to having adults smother him with attention. Will Ira have his Christmas (and the pageant he suddenly decides they should put on) before the whistle is blown? Will those bullies, pilfered straight from “A Christmas Story,” learn how their dickishness affects other people and stop being dicks? Will the holiday spirit melt the heart of Mikey’s goth cousin? Will any of the adults ever pull their heads out of their asses and realize that their children are more important than whatever stupid adult bullshit they have put first?

Yes. Of course they will. It’s a family movie about the holidays. It will have a happy ending and there will be lots of singing and smiling at each other across rooms and people will learn all sorts of lessons. You bet your jingle-belled ass that someone will say “God bless us everyone.” Also, Elliot Gould, as Ira’s grandpa, is the Jewiest Jew that ever Jewed and that chick from “Northern Exposure” (Cynthia Geary) frowns a lot. There is an audience for this film. It’s probably a huge audience. But I bet there isn’t a lot of crossover with Film Threat readers.

Note: My two-star rating reflects my enjoyment of the film. I’m fairly certain that someone in the target audience would give it three to four stars. Additionally, bah humbug.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

July 3, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Film Threat Review: Grassroots

2012
Rated R
100 minutes

****

There’s a scene in Cameron Crowe’s film “Singles” in which Campbell Scott pitches to Mayor Tom Skerritt the Supertrain: a high speed commuter train which he believes would solve Seattle’s horrendous traffic problems. The Mayor smiles and nods throughout the impassioned speech. But when Scott is done, Skerritt shuts him down in four words. He’d made up his mind before Scott even opened his mouth. This scene perfectly sums up Seattle’s perpetual transportation issue. There are always people pushing to build one effective public transportation system, but our car-happy government is resistant to it, instead focusing on the roads, which only become more congested. Though they did approve a billion-dollar novelty streetcar to Paul Allen so that we now have not one, but TWO extremely slow trains, neither of which travels more than 2 miles.

Stephen Gyllenhaal’s new film, “Grassroots,” is based on the “mostly true” story of music-critic-turned-politician Grant Cogswell (Joel David Moore), whose passion for making the touristy Seattle Monorail a viable commuter option led to a bid for City Council in 2001. “Singles” was released in 1992. In 2012, Seattle STILL hasn’t resolved the issue. That’s twenty years of congestion (both governmental and vehicular). If you lived here, you wouldn’t be home by now.

If you’re already bored to tears reading about transportation in Seattle, you might want to skip “Grassroots.” That’s mostly what it’s about. On the other hand, if you have even a passing interest in political activism, you just may get something out of it anyway.

An antagonistic idealist, Cogswell is tired of seeing his beloved cityscape marred by gridlock. So he enlists his friend, Phil Campbell (Jason Biggs), a freshly unemployed journalist, to be his campaign manager. They assemble a peaceable collective of rag-tag youths and embark on an uphill battle to unseat the deep-seated incumbent who stands in the way of their vision of a traffic-free Seattle.

Based on the book “Zioncheck for President,” written by the real Phil Campbell, “Grassroots” is very much a Seattle film. It’s difficult to imagine this story happening in any other city (except maybe Portlandia). Gyllenhaal (who also co-wrote the script) and cinematographer Sean Porter do an excellent job setting the scene. In fact, the authenticity is almost surreal for a local such as myself (especially since I voted for Cogswell in that very election). Though I found the name-dropping of local businesses and culture a little distracting, it was quite a treat it is to see a Seattle-set film that was actually shot on location. There have been several films shot here as of late, but this is not in keeping with tradition. It would certainly soften the impact for Grant Cogswell to gush about his passion for the Emerald City, whilst gesturing toward Vancouver B.C.

Cogswell’s idealism is contagious. But because of his foul-mouthed abrasiveness, his campaign gets off to a rocky start. He mostly speaks with his outdoor voice, spouting fervent, but not always articulate, speeches. He is, in every way, a foil to his opponent. The incumbent, Richard McIver (Cedric the Entertainer) isn’t a bad guy, but he is a career politician who knows how to work the system to get what he wants. Cogswell is not a politician and the system isn’t working for him, so he sees his campaign as a moral imperative. Politics tends to be very loosely related to actually accomplishing any significant structural change. Grassroots campaigns like Cogswell’s attract people for whom politics is more ideology than paycheck. It’s an indispensable form of checks and balances.

Just when Cogswell’s campaign starts to gather momentum, 9/11 happens and it is temporarily derailed. Gyllenhaal crafts the most accurate and honest cinematic depiction I’ve ever seen of the emotional fallout after helplessly watching those buildings crumble and burn. Seattle is 3000 miles away from Ground Zero, yet our world seemed to come to a halt as everyone tried to process those images and figure out how to carry on. Inevitably, things became divisive, but during those early days, everyone was on the same page. Reportedly one of the bigger moments of artistic license, the movie version of Grant Cogswell decides that what he must do to counteract the destruction is to build that monorail. He delivers this message in a rousing speech to a bunch of stunned canvassers who are suitably inspired. Even if that specific scene never really occurred, elements of his speech still ring exceedingly true.

Not so relevant, however, is a fabricated subplot in which the campaign negatively affects Campbell’s relationship with his live-in girlfriend (Lauren Ambrose). It’s an awkward, unnecessary attempt to insert someone with boobs into the narrative (besides the miniscule part Cobie Smulders has as a monorail activist). Fortunately, it doesn’t detract too much from the more significant themes of passion, perseverance, and community.

Amidst all this seriousness is still a fair amount of comedy. Surprisingly, Jason Biggs is the straight man for much of it. Several jokes have an “in” quality, especially ones involving the weekly hipster rag with which Campbell and Cogswell (along with much of Seattle) have undulating relationships. Nonetheless, a character as idiosyncratic as Cogswell can’t help but produce a couple of laughs from the population at large. People of a certain age will also get a hearty chuckle out of the pre-Smartphone tribulations depicted.

Though “Grassroots” is, first and foremost, a film for the campaign’s contemporaries, it’s also a call-to-action to modern youth everywhere to get involved in local politics. When things aren’t really going our way, it’s easy to forget that every vote really does count.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

June 25, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

SIFF Review: Joshua Tree, 1950 – A Portrait of James Dean

2012 SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
93 minutes

**

The shorter a star’s career, the less the world learns about them. The less the world learns about a star, the more brilliant and mysterious they seem. We’ll never know what James Dean could have been as an actor. “Joshua Tree, 1951: A Portrait of James Dean” wants us to believe that he could have been one of the greatest in the history of the business, had his craft been allowed to flourish. Unfortunately, Matthew Mishory’s reverent film inadvertently does the man a disservice. The black and white cinematography, by Michael Marius Pessah, is breathtaking, making a Hollywood mogul’s clothing-optional pool party seem every bit as picturesque as the titular dessert. But the pseudo-intellectual dialog combined with James Preston’s stiff acting are so distracting, one comes away with the impression that James Dean was actually worth little more than a pretty face and a roll in the hay.

Writer/director, Matthew Mishory liberally utilizes what they call “artistic license” to profile the actor on the cusp of fame. The loosey-goosey plot follows in a non-linear fashion as Dean navigates the seedy side of the casting couch, has intense candle-lit conversations with his less-than-platonic male roommate and takes method-acting classes. He also embarks on a road trip to the dessert with an aspiring actress and his aforementioned roommate all while having no-strings-attached trysts with whomever asks. These events lead up to Dean’s exodus to Broadway. We never see a successful version of him. If people like Channing Tatum and Megan Fox didn’t exist, this film would make his eventual star status incredulous.

There’s a reason Mishory used the word “portrait” instead of “bio-pic.” He’s made an art house film with an overwhelming emphasis on the word “art” This gives the story a lot of leeway. It’s much harder to criticize art than it is traditional film because the very nature of the format is open to interpretation. Of course, art criticism is not impossible. Lovers of French New Wave cinema and the films of Guy Maddin will enjoy the disjointed, visual poetry format. Others will find it challenging if not annoyingly self-important.

The references to Rimbaud and Hemingway are meant to make the audience see Dean as a great thinker himself. But all of his conversations sound more like pretentious quote-offs, the likes of which you might find at any liberal arts college dormitory at 2am. No one is really making a connection in these conversations. They are merely trying to out-do each other. Perhaps this is what passed for deep thought in 1951 Hollywood (and possibly even today), but it is not fooling anyone who actually studied these authors. At one point, Dean utilizes the phrase “Catch 22” ten years before Joseph Heller coined it in his novel. Obviously, this reflects more poorly on Mishory’s screenwriting than it does on his quasi-fictional character. But it certainly doesn’t help the case that Dean was an intellectual.

The film’s strength is in its visuals. Mishory decorated his film with beautiful, often naked people. There are numerous graphic love scenes involving Dean’s many male and female lovers, which arrive just in time to keep you from getting too bored. Naked butts look terrific on black and white film. There’s an argument to be made for watching with the sound off and the remote in hand. Its beauty is marred whenever it opens its mouth. Bad ADR in points further detracts.

I also have to give Mishory credit for capturing a time and place. The indoor sets are tight and scarce, leaving little opportunity to question the authenticity of the era. And there are few things more timeless than a desert. All you need is an era-appropriate car and cigarette-smoking young actor with a wrinkly forehead to believe that you are with James Dean in 1951. It’s too bad about that script.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

June 25, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

SIFF REVIEW: GAYBY

2012 SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
89 minutes

****
Does every set of male/female BFFs have a pact of some sort? It certainly seems so. In “Gayby,” the pact is between Jenn and Matt who, in college, agreed that they would breed together if they haven’t found the men of their respective dreams by the time Jenn’s biological clock starts winding down. Loosely based on a real (but unfulfilled) pact he made with a college friend, writer/director Jonathan Lisecki extended his acclaimed short film into a feature-length story. The result is a film that is consistently fun and silly, but never over-the-top and, despite some Hollywood moments, feels quite genuine.

After listening to her sister lament her international adoption troubles, Jenn, a thirty-something hot yoga instructor, decides that she doesn’t have time to keep picking through the New York dating pool. She needs fertile sperm and she needs it now. So she calls upon her best friend, Matt (Matthew Wilkas), to make good on their deal.

Matt is having trouble getting back into dating after a bad breakup. His despair is exacerbated by the fact that his ex works for the very comic publishing company to whom Matt wants to pitch his own book. Worse yet, the ex’s job enables him to keep making “business related” visits to Matt’s comic shop, leaving Matt perpetually on edge. Matt is slightly resistant to the idea, but he tells Jenn he’s game, if only to keep his mind focused on creation instead of destruction. They will raise the baby together and their search for romantic partners will thus be detached from their desire to have a family.

But there’s one caveat. Jenn would like to conceive “the old fashioned way.” This is the one plot point that felt a little forced to me. Jenn never really gives a valid reason for why she wants it this way. I can understand the aversion to the expense and invasiveness of involving doctors. But squeezing a turkey baster full of baby batter into her nether regions is one of the least horrifying things that will happen to her on the road to motherhood. It’s fast, clean and couldn’t be cheaper. Nonetheless, their arrangement provides the comedy gold that comes from a gay man and a straight woman attempting to do what most certainly does not come naturally.

When the first time is not a charm, they realize they are going to need some help. For this, they turn to a number of sources including their friend Nelson. Lisecki himself plays Nelson, a resourceful sort who peppers his advice with the witticisms of a modern-day Oscar Wilde. Jenn seeks help from a naturopath in the form of horny goat weed, which in addition to making her more fertile, also boosts her energy level to eleven and, perhaps unsurprisingly, makes her very horny. Hilarity ensues.

Lisecki is keenly aware of his lead actress’ talents and how to showcase them. Jennifer Harris fully utilizes her role with the physical comedy and eccentric presence of a young Carol Kane. She is most impressive when engaged in vocationally enhanced sex and trying to find ways to expend all her excess energy. Some of Jenn’s antics are so bizarre that they can only be innate to the actress playing her. I hope to see Jennifer Harris again soon (and not relegated to some “best friend” role either).

The supporting cast is chock full of talent and every character gets at least one good line. Lisecki has a real flair for zingers. He gives more than a few to Jenn’s “work best friend,” played with effortless charm by Jack Fervor. Matt and Jenn may have trouble conceiving, but they are lush in the awesome friend department. Refreshingly, none of the deterrents they encounter involve narrow-mindedness of any sort. Their world may be devoid of Mr. Rights, but it is full of judgment-free people, whose arguments hardly ever get more serious than debating Johnny Storm’s sexuality.

Fantastic though it might sound, the plot of “Gayby” is still firmly planted in the real world. Jenn isn’t secretly in love with Matt. But she does love him and he loves her. With archaic laws still in place and adoption an elusive option for even straight couples, Matt and Jenn’s decision is really not all that crazy. Divorce rates suggest that a nuclear family is not necessarily the best scenario for everyone. Jenn and Matt, along with the rest of their social circle, were already a loving family. Why not create a child out of that love? What every kid needs, much more than a married, heterosexual set of parents, is someone to love them and support them unconditionally. Mitt Romney might not agree but, like it or not, this is the new normal. And it seems to be working out just fine.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

June 25, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

SIFF Review: Extraterrestrial

2012 SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
90 minutes

***

Whenever an alien species invades Earth, there are people who rise up and band together, showing their true quality in the epic fight for survival. And then there are the other guys. Nacho Vigalondo’s (“Timecrimes”) latest film is about the people without a heroic bone in their body and what they get up to during the downtime between the shit and the fan. It’s a bold and original idea, but it seems to promise a little more than it delivers.

Julio (Julian Villagran) and Julia (Michelle Jenner) awake in her apartment, having blackened out the events that put them in bed together. As Julia shoves Julio toward the door, they happen to notice an enormous spacecraft hovering over their unexpectedly deserted city. Something big went down while they were sobering up and they are the last to know. Cell phones are out of commission and the news broadcast urges everyone to remain in their homes. This is the first time sci-fi audiences have ever met the people who followed that advice. Julia’s stalker neighbor, Angel (“The Last Circus” star Carlos Areces, making a career out of creepy, lovelorn characters) also stays behind, most likely to live out his last-man-on-Earth fantasy with Julia. He’s none too pleased to find that Julio has gotten in the way of this.

The only other character in the film is Julia’s boyfriend, Carlos (Raul Cimas) who has traveled some great distance, risking his own safety, to get to her. Carlos is an expat from a traditional sci-fi action film. He’s so obsessed with the idea of saving the day that he is completely oblivious to the love affair that is blossoming between his girlfriend and another man right under his nose. Angel is eager to spill the beans, but Carlos runs off to be a hero before that can happen. Besides, he doesn’t really seem like he would even care that much. He’s far more concerned with events occurring in the world outside.

The only trouble with “Extraterrestrial” is that you don’t really understand what kind of movie it is until it’s over. The frequent jokes and antics clue you in to the satire, but the title implies more (or at least some) participation from otherworldly beings. Instead, we spend the entire time in a “Three’s Company” episode without even a peep from Mork.

Nearly everything in “Extraterrestrial” takes place in Julia and Carlos’ apartment. In another movie, this would create a claustrophobic tone. But because of the tomfoolery between Julio, Julia and Angel, it actually ends up bringing the whole thing into sitcom territory, complete with a wacky neighbor. Angel is increasingly incensed by the goings on between Julio and Julia and makes it his mission to destroy them. He is a cartoon character who is mortally offended when they undervalue a gift of poached peaches. The actors occasionally seem like they want to shift to a more serious tone, particularly when Carlos reveals that the aliens are rumored to walk among them in human form, but their characters’ primary motivations prevent it. They are far too invested in their little love triangle, which, ironically, doesn’t really involve Julia’s boyfriend.

Julio and Julia are perfect for each other. They are so self-absorbed that they can’t really be bothered with the giant spaceship hovering above their city. Angel shares their dubious priorities. These people would die wordlessly in any other alien invasion movie.

“Extraterrestrial” is the story of alien weapon fodder. They’ll sit and wait for what’s to come because they have no other choice. But while they’re awaiting instructions from their new overlords, they might as well engage in some romantic shenanigans.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

June 18, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

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