Category Archives: New In Theaters

Reviews of what’s out now

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Skip the Guitar Parts

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by George Wolf

 

Maybe the thing I appreciate most about We’re the Millers is the acoustic guitar.

The music provides an unmistakeable cue that it’s time to quit joking about family ties and get real about real feelings that are real. Just know these moments won’t last too long, and then it’s back to some pretty damn funny business.

Jason Sudeikis (SNL/Horrible Bosses/engaged to Olvia Wilde/life is good) plays David, a small time pot dealer in debt to a big time pot dealer (Ed Helms, possibly confusing those who still think he and Sudeikis are the same person). To stay alive, David just has to cross the border and bring back ” a smidge, maybe smidge and a half” of weed from Mexico.

He figures a vacationing family would attract less attention down Mexico way, so he recruits a local stripper (Jennifer Aniston) to pose as his wife. After rounding out the faux family with a nerdy neighbor (Will Poulter) as their son, and a young runaway (Emma Roberts) as their daughter, its time to pack up the RV and hit the road!

The four-man writing team at work here sports a decent résumé, featuring screenplays for Hot Tub Time Machine, She’s Outta My League and Wedding Crashers. If those don’t exactly go straight to your funny bone, or more pointedly, if you frown upon the raunchy, stay far away from We’re the Millers.

Otherwise, the film gets better as it moves along. The contrivance needed for some of the gags is usually wiggled out of pretty deftly, as director Rawson Marshall Thurber (Dodgeball) shows a nice feel for the pacing needed to sell this premise.

Aniston, as she did in Horrible Bosses, proves extremely likable digging into a character’s dark comedic edges. True, playing a stripper offers yet another chance to serve up the cheesecake, but as well as she’s aging, it’s hard to blame her.

She and Sudeikis display a nice chemistry, especially when they’re bein’ bad, and they get solid support from Kathyrn Hahn (“AN-y-th-in” from Anchorman) and Nick Offerman (TVs Parks and Recreation) as fellow RV travelers with surprises for everyone.

There are also a couple “breaking the fourth wall” moments, and some great outtakes as the credits roll. Pandering? Sure, but funny.

The main problem is simple inconsistency. The successful skewering of family cliches is interrupted by awkward reminders that families really are good! Nice is nice and all, but when you hang with We’re the Millers, naughty is where the fun is.

 

Verdict-3-0-Stars

 

 

New In Theaters

Disney Misfires without Pixar

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Disney’s Planes

by Hope Madden

The tortoise and hare fable meets Top Gun in Disney’s blandly watchable gear-head adventure Planes.

Dusty the crop duster (Dane Cook) wants to fly a prestigious, international air race. His opponents mock and underestimate him, he’s afraid of heights, and he faces a coaching crisis at the worst moment. The odds he must overcome – how can he do it?!

The uninspired waste of time comes courtesy of director Klay Hall (Tinker Bell and the Lost Treasure) and screenwriter Jeffrey Howard, who boasts a slew of Tinkerbell-related work. Boast may not be the right word. Together they spawn an uninspired derivative of a familiar concept.

Back in 2006, Pixar released its weakest product to that date, Cars. It was a middling effort – not a bad premise, decent cast, pleasant enough to look at. The reason it felt so disappointing was that it came from the animation genius factory that had already brought us two Toy Stories and found Nemo.

By the time the vehicular mediocrity of Cars 2 arrived, Pixar had exploded with classics WALL-E, Up, and Toy Story 3, and the auto sequel could not help but suffer by comparison.

Disney’s making the connection to the Pixar flick as obvious as possible without actually cribbing characters. Too bad, though, because while Cars is hardly a stellar work, a familiar face to spy in a crowd might have given this flick a glimmer of excitement. (Credit the filmmakers for including the voices of Val Kilmer and Anthony Edwards just as Dusty finds himself in the danger zone.)

No real laughs, no memorable characters, no novelty, not enough conflict, no interesting villains – basically, Planes offers nothing we’ve come to expect from an industry revolutionized by Pixar. Disney should try seeing Pixar’s work as an inspiration for unique work rather than an opportunity to cash in.

Verdict-2-0-Stars

New In Theaters

A Fine Reason to Interrupt Shark Week

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by George Wolf

 

If a trip to Sea World is still on your late summer agenda, Blackfish will most likely make you reconsider.

That’s not meant to be flippant. Director Gabriela Cowperthwaite has constructed a searing indictment against keeping killer whales captive for human amusement. She has an agenda, and she’s damn effective at getting it across.

She bases the film around Tilikum, a trained whale currently at Sea World in Orlando that has been responsible for three fatalities. Cowperthwaite is able to trace “Tilly”’s history back to the day he was first taken from his mother in the wild, a memory that still evokes tears from at least one man who was involved in the capture.

Interviews with former trainers, whale researchers and animal rights activists, along with a hefty amount of video from marine amusement parks, paint a picture with precious little gray area. Though no one from Sea World agreed to participate, it becomes increasingly hard to imagine any solid rebuttal.

Blackfish makes it clear that holding killer whales in captivity should be doubly offensive. A cruel practice against a highly intelligent and emotional species, it also poses a very real threat to humans, a threat that has been downplayed for years.

That threat made headlines in 2010 after the gruesome death of a star trainer. A resulting court case brought new restrictions for whale interaction (which Sea World is currently appealing).

One viewing of Blackfish, and it’s case closed.

 

Verdict-4-0-Stars

 

 

 

New In Theaters

A Powerful Kick in the Gut

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by George Wolf

 

If you don’t already know the true story behind Fruitvale Station, just make it a point to see this touching, powerful, superbly acted film, and read no further.

It concerns the tragic death of Oscar Grant, shot dead at the age of 22 by Bay Area transit police on the first day of 2009. A sad and needless incident, it arrives on the screen as a remarkably assured feature debut from writer/director Ryan Coogler.

Himself a native of the Bay Area, Coogler strikes the perfect tone to tell Grant’s story, eschewing easy grandstanding in favor of a personal, intensely intimate approach. Shot on location in Oakland, much of the film has a verite feel, presenting Grant as a flawed, dimensional character, a real human being living a life we just happen to drop into.

Coogler’s storytelling is so casual and free of pretension that it could have backfired, failing to hold an audience’s attention. His genius move is to open the film with (be warned) the shocking cell phone video of Grant’s actual shooting, thus giving the dramatic narrative that follows it a quiet sense of foreboding, as each minute takes us closer to the unfortunate turn of events that took Grant’s life.

In the lead role, Michael B. Jordan (The Wire) is simply a revelation. His nuanced performance shows us Grant’s soul, making it nearly impossible not to be moved by his fate. The supporting cast, most notably Melonie Diaz as Grant’s girlfriend and Oscar-winner Octavia Spencer (The Help) as his mother, matches Jordan in equally heartbreaking fashion. The entire ensemble, top to bottom, is first rate.

A sure contender this upcoming awards season, Fruitvale Station becomes so eloquently universal precisely by remaining so personal. Though indeed an account of a young black man gunned down by a white security officer, the film’s only agenda is to tell Grant’s story, not manufacture a martyr.

In doing so, an impressive new filmmaker has delivered an important kick to the gut that you won’t shake for days.

 

Verdict-4-5-Stars

 

 

 

 

New In Theaters

Michael Cera Says No to Dirty Hippies, Yes to Drugs

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Crystal Fairy & The Magic Cactus

by Hope Madden

One of this summer’s brightest surprises comes by way of Michael Cera’s drug-fueled road trip picture Crystal Fairy & The Magical Cactus.  Loosely scripted and casually filmed, the flick follows the journey of a group of youngsters in search of some mind expansion in Chile. What evolves is a quietly, subversively brilliant character study.

Cera plays Jamie, a displaced American anxious for the experiences available in drug use. He’s insecure, adopts a handful of pseudo-hippie-isms, and looks to really experience life through mind alteration. He meets his match in Crystal Fairy – a modern day freak Jamie invites on the trip.

Crystal Fairy is played by a positively fearless Gaby Hoffman. “Fearless” being the film critic vernacular for “willing to do full frontal.” There is a true fearlessness in that act, particularly if the shocking display of vulnerability it is used properly, as it so definitely is in this work.

Road trips offer such undiluted community experiences that we all want to mock, smack, maybe even abandon one or two co-travelers every now and then. At least that’s the memory I have of Madden family trips.

A little mescaline might have helped, actually.

Regardless, writer/director Sebastian Silva plumbs the situation for touching, comic, and strangely familiar moments. Those who saw his magnificently naturalistic The Maid will recognize the filmmaker’s contagious fascination with common moments. Silva’s screenplay – handled with grace and humanity by the ensemble – never stoops to easy jokes, although the entire picture beams with humor. Characters develop multiple dimensions, and the mostly improvised conversations take charmingly human paths.

The portrayal is deceptively well structured, though. It may feel for all the world like one profoundly uncomfortable journey meandering for a couple of hours, showcasing two pushy Americans who embarrass themselves in front of three lovely Chilean brothers. But Silva has a more satisfying and definite aim than that.

You should give it a try.

I mean the movie, not the mescaline.

Verdict-3-5-Stars

New In Theaters, Slider

2 Cool

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by George Wolf

 

Last year, director Baltasar Kormakur and star Mark Wahlberg managed to make the heist thriller Contraband a good bit better than it probably should have been.

This year they up the ante, utilizing a snappy script, one Mr. Denzel Washington and a solid ensemble cast to make 2 Guns one of the most entertaining films of the summer.

Granted, it may be forgotten by fall, but right now, as a weak film season winds down, this type of stylish fun is welcome. And it’s all rooted in the undeniable chemistry of the two leads.

Wahlberg is “Stig,” an undercover naval intelligence officer, and Denzel is Bobby, an undercover DEA agent. Though they’re working together to infiltrate a drug cartel, neither knows the other is one of the good guys.

A few double crosses later, and they’ve got a ruthless drug lord (Edward James Olmos), a sleazy CIA boss (Bill Paxton, gleefully over the top) and a crooked navy officer (James Marsden)  threatening to kill them both unless they can hand over a massive load of stolen cash.

Kormakur sets the hook with a taut, mysterious opening, then maintains a crisp pace full of flashbacks, callbacks, and impressively staged action. Based on a series of graphic novels, the script from Blake Masters is witty but not overly comedic, and elaborate but not convoluted, while also managing to land a few jabs on U.S.- Mexican relations.  Nicely done.

Wahlberg’s performances always seem to reflect the level of talent around him, and he is very effective here, relishing the chance to be the comic relief side of a badass duo. Washington seems equally engaged, letting you feel the wheels turning as Bobby coolly  figures out what’s what. Their fun is contagious, to the audience as well as their fellow actors.

An engaging mix of buddy cop caper, spy thriller and Wild West shoot em up, 2 Guns is just the kick in the pants this movie summer needs.

 

Verdict-3-5-Stars

 

 

New In Theaters, Uncategorized

These People Love Their Boss

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by George Wolf

 

Look, I admit it. Asking me to review a Bruce Springsteen documentary sounds about as fair and balanced as Sean Hannity giving his thoughts on The Sarah Palin Story. I’m a Springsteen devotee, no doubt about it, but Springsteen and I will not only thrill fans such as myself, but also give the uninitiated a glimpse into what drives the Cult of the Boss.

From Executive Producer Ridley Scott, the film doesn’t focus as much on Bruuuuuce as it does his legendary fan base. Utilizing the same approach that drove Scott’s Life in a Day (2011), and Japan in a Day (2012), Springsteen and I is a story told by everyday people.

Bruce fans all over the world were encouraged to submit their own videos, describing how his music has affected them, the place it holds in their lives and, well, anything else they felt moved to share.

Director Baillie Walsh assembles the best of the bunch, mixing in Springsteen performances from the archives, and in many cases, video evidence from moments when the lucky ones rubbed elbows with The Boss.

You can’t help but smile when you hear stories of the man who went to a Bruce show dressed in full-on Elvis, or the women who made an “I’ll be your Courtney Cox” sign, and then watch as Bruce invites them to share his stage.

It’s an entertaining approach, and one that also allows for more heartfelt submissions, such as the man who suddenly bursts into tears when describing how the music has changed him, or the couple who, despite never having been to a Springsteen show, feel part of the fan community simply by dancing to Bruce music at home.

Of course, Springsteen isn’t everyone’s favorite(?), and one women’s fandom is hilariously described by her husband. After years of tagging along to Bruce’s marathon performances, the man pleads for Bruce to “make his concerts shorter!”

Springsteen and I is a thoroughly enjoyable take on the power of music, and much like a Springsteen show, offers a lengthy encore.  Stay put after the credits roll for some great concert footage and a backstage peek at a special Bruce meet and greet session.

Lucky bastards.

 

Springsteen and I will show again in Columbus, and all over the world, July 30th at 7:30pm. The local showing will again be at Lennox. Outside Columbus, check here for a showing at the same time.

 

Verdict-4-0-Stars

 

 

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Sideburns and Samurai

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The Wolverine

by Hope Madden

The Wolverine seems invulnerable, but on the inside, he’s a heartbroken, wounded mess. Doesn’t that make him dreamy?

Ever since he had to go and kill Jean – the psychotic, clairvoyant killing machine and love of his life – he hasn’t been the same. He just exists, just goes on, pointlessly … kind of like this movie.

The latest in the X-Men franchise is certainly a let down from 2011’s exceptionally fun and clever X-Men: First Class. This episode finds Logan/Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) holed up in a cave, living the life of a semi-boozy hermit, befriended, or at least tolerated, by a neighboring grizzly. But he’s lured out of hermitage by some dangerously incompetent hunters and a sword-wielding young woman with a request from Logan’s past.

Come to Tokyo, she says. I’ll have you home tomorrow, she says.

Wolverine is quickly sucked into yakuza/ninja/samurai/mutant/romantic intrigue.

In Japan we’re treated to too  much sentiment, not enough action, and not nearly enough opportunity for Jackman to break out of Logan’s morose romanticism and crack a few jokes. Director James Mangold’s preoccupied with honor, courage and love – solid enough staples for a samurai-tinged action film, but a humorless Wolverine is just no fun at all.

The film takes a comic book hero, casts him as a routine vampire cliché (the tragic-romantic immortal who wishes to be human), then paints everything with a mixture of several eras of Japanese crime cinema. But vampires and samurai tales require blood, and lots of it. Comic book movies – even when the hero slashes through everything with metal claws – are bloodless. The combination just doesn’t work.

Mangold continues to take the X-Men path less traveled by supplying so very few mutants. One common weakness of late-franchise superhero flicks is that they throw dozens of villains at you in the hopes of drawing your attention away from script weaknesses. Mangold has the bravery to avoid this gimmick, supplying only on mutant villain, Viper (Svetlana Khodchenkova – whose name is exponentially more interesting than her character).

The result? We can see how weak his script is.

The Wolverine does boast some cool action sequences – especially that bit on top of the train – and Jackman has more than enough talent and brawn to keep the movie interesting. But mostly the film dives into Logan’s internal scarring and seeks to help him appreciate his immortality and his purpose. Maybe next he can rediscover his sense of humor.

Verdict-2-5-Stars

New In Theaters, Slider, Uncategorized

Yeah, It was Great..Really.

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by George Wolf

 

Fifteen minutes in, The To Do List has the feel of something assembled from one. That list must have been titled “teenage girl sex comedy,” with the filmmaker checking off the elements required to get her point across.

It is the debut feature for writer/director Maggie Carey, a TV and web series veteran. Twelve years ago, in one of her first credited projects, Carey directed Ladyporn, a documentary about making porn films that center on female sexual fulfillment.

Clearly, women’s sexuality in film is an issue close to her heart, which is justifiable, but The To Do List only proves weak sex comedies can go both ways.

It is the summer before college for uptight, brainiac Brandy (Aubrey Plaza), and meeting a hot older guy at a party prompts her to make a list of sexual acts she needs to experience before finally losing the V card.

Those acts, save for one scene of She Boppin‘, aren’t overly graphic, but the language gets down and dirty.  That’s expected of a sex comedy, but alongside the cliched characters and their obvious situations, it all reaches a point of protesting too much, trying too hard to prove that a women’s point of view has been neglected in these types of films.

Not that Carey isn’t right, she is. But the best of the male centered “virgin” films, such as American Pie or Superbad, featured memorable characters that were at the very least funny and a bit unpredictable. The To Do List features none of that.

The film’s timing isn’t much help, either, as Brandy takes a lifeguard job at a pool with an older, unconventional boss (Bill Hader). That’s also a pivotal setting in The Way, Way Back, a far superior coming of age film that hit theaters just last week.

Maybe the biggest surprise is Plaza, fresh from her terrific breakout performance last year in Safety Not Guaranteed. She can’t seem to make Brandy much more than a caricature, but seeing the same fate befall the always solid Connie Britton and Clark Gregg (as Brandy’s parents) leads the trail right back to weaknesses in script and direction.

Pardon the pun, but Carey may have been trying too hard the first time.

 

Verdict-2-0-Stars

 

 

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Nightmare in Red

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Only God Forgives

by Hope Madden

Welcome to Hell.

Writer/director/Dane Nicolas Winding Refn’s follow up to the magnificent Drive drops viewers in a Bangkok straight out of Dante’s imagination for a revenge thriller like few others. It’s Only God Forgives, and love it or hate it, you will be amazed.

Julian (Ryan Gosling) finds himself obliged to avenge his brother’s murder. Problem is, his brother was a very nasty man. But Julian’s mom wants vengeance, and Julian’s mom (Kristin Scott Thomas, as you have never seen her) is much, much worse.

It’s a slight premise. What’s more, the characters are profoundly one-dimensional, the dialogue is borderline nonexistent, and what verbiage there is will hardly stick with you. Plus, Winding Refn’s pacing makes the slow boil of Drive look like a madcap romp – all of which feeds into the trancelike quality that makes the film so unusual.

Only God Forgives is a nightmare in red. The tale unspools as if you are inside a dream, saturated in colors and patterns and flowing into ever darker and more awful areas of Julian’s mind.

The filmmaker channels Lynch and Kubrick, but crafts something undeniably his own. Few directors are so bold with color, and he’s an absolute madman with score. For this, his ninth film, he strips away the more traditional elements of storytelling to rely on the image to affect us. Given the vulgar themes and percussive violence, it may not be an image you want, but it is never less than mesmerizing to look at – every shot a brutally gorgeous image.

Gosling’s strong, silent smolder is on high in this one, but it’s the always formidable Kristin Scott Thomas and her unsavory cruelty who steals the picture. It’s unlike anything she’s done in the past, perhaps because it’s unlike any other part out there. And a bad mom will fuck you up, I’ll tell you what.

These are bad people, all of them, with nasty business to attend to.  Awash in righteous indignation, defilement and spoiled masculinity, the film is little more than a dream sequence of death. The battle is not good versus evil, though, because Officer Chang’s (Vithaya Pansringarm) tidy, tight-lipped sadism shows no moral justification.

Only God Forgives is not a film for the squeamish, the impatient, or the sleepy – as the deep and hearty snores from the seats behind me attest. Too bad, because they missed one wallop of a movie.

Verdict-3-5-Stars