Category Archives: New In Theaters

Reviews of what’s out now

New In Theaters

There’s Heart in the Wizz

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by George Wolf

 

When I was young, my brother and I called it “the way back,” that place at the rear of an old station wagon just big enough for a kid to take refuge.

Nat Faxon and Jim Rash call that same area, and their new film, The Way, Way Back, a poignant and often very funny look at the bittersweet awkwardness of adolescence.

Faxon and Rash actually wrote the script years ago, but couldn’t get it sold. Then they won an Oscar in 2011 for co-writing The Descendants, and decided to spend their new Hollywood capital by resurrecting the old project and directing it themselves.

The centerpiece is 14 year old Duncan (Liam James), who is truly underjoyed at having to spend summer vacation with his mom Pam (Toni Collette), her tool boyfriend Trent (Steve Carell) and his daughter.

Things start to look up when Duncan stumbles into a job at Water Wizz, the local water park (Water Wizz!). Falling under the tutelage of Owen, the Wizz manager (Sam Rockwell) Duncan gets a fresh outlook, as well as confidence enough to chat up cutie Susanna (AnnaSophia Robb).

Faxon and Rash establish themselves as a team with a bright future. Though less assured than The Descendants (the lack of director Alexander Payne might have something to do with that), The Way, Way Back is full of crisp dialogue, well formed characters and situations that, for the most part, ring true.

The ensemble cast (which also includes Maya Rudolph, Allison Janney, Amanda Peet, Rob Corddry, Faxon and Rash) is splendid, with Carell impressively playing against type, and the young James crafting Duncan as the wince-inducing personification of teenage nerdery.

As good as everyone is, this is Rockwell’s show to steal, and he’s hilariously guilty. A freewheeling mix of Bill Murray and Hawkeye Pierce, Owen unleashes a barrage of one liners and real world philosophy. As Duncan becomes more comfortable with his water fun family, a nice dichotomy is created between the d-bag father figure Trent smugly thinks he is, and the supercool one Owen easily becomes.

Some moments are a bit forced, but on the whole, this is the rare coming of age story that feels fresh. With a big heart that both adults and teens should find relatable, The Way, Way Back is the surprise gem of the summer.

 

Verdict-3-5-Stars

 

 

New In Theaters, Slider, Uncategorized

Not Too Old for This Shit

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by George Wolf

 

RED was not a great movie, but a clever script and an extremely likable cast made it a helluva fun ride and a mildly surprising hit.

So, for RED 2, then..more of the same?

You bet, and it works just as well.

This time around, ex-CIA badass Frank Moses (Bruce Willis) is determined to stay Retired Extremely Dangerous, living the domestic life with his sweetie Sarah (Mary-Louise Parker) in the suburbs. Sarah, though, kinda liked her introduction to the spy game, so when their old buddy Marvin (John Malkovich) shows up with an invitation, she pushes Frank to accept.

And with that, we’re off to the races. Sure, they’re ridiculous races, but that hardly matters with old friends (Helen Mirren) and new friends (Catherine Zeta Jones, Anthony Hopkins) as cool as these.

Screenwriters Jon and Erich Hoeber return from part one, again providing plenty of snappy dialogue for their veteran actors, while director Dean Parisot (the underrated Galaxy Quest) has no trouble staging globe trotting action sequences or blowing things up.

Parisot is also smart enough to know that with a cast such as this, sometimes you just stay out of the way.

Malkovich and Parker are deliciously droll and often hilarious, and Mirren, well really, don’t we all want to grow up to be Helen Mirren?

Even Willis seems rejuvenated, after sleepwalking through the latest G.I. Joe and Die Hard installments. This is a tough guy character with a softer shade, and he seems to relish it.

It’s at least twenty minutes too long, and the novelty of aging asskickers may not survive future installments, but right here, right now, RED  2 pegs the fun meter early and often.

 

Verdict-3-0-Stars

 

New In Theaters, Uncategorized

Venus and Serena: The Movie

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by George Wolf

 

Despite Serena’s stumble at Wimbledon this year, the Williams sisters have been making tennis history for so long, its easy to forget they were once,  just like a young Tiger Woods, wide-eyed African American phenoms attracting much curiosity from within a white-dominated sport.

The documentary Venus and Serena follows them both during the 2011 season, mixing that footage with archive video from their youth, as well as interviews with family, tennis personalities, and a curious amount of Chris Rock and Bill Clinton.

Directors Maiken Baird and Michelle Major, in their debut feature, keep things fairly by the numbers, providing a quick overview of the sisters rise to domination, and the ups and downs of the 2011 tour. What can’t be denied is the bond that Venus and Serena, born just 15 months apart, continue to share. Though the film offers few unguarded moments, glimpsing their love of karaoke, or the worry that their closeness could threaten any aspirations of marriage, is truly charming.

Any possible areas of negativity, such as Serena’s famous meltdowns, their father’s domineering ways or the racism they all faced, are briefly touched upon and then swatted away, giving no voice to anyone very far outside the Williams camp. With this type of approach, it might have been better just to focus on the 2011 season in a singular manner, without the biographical portions.  As it is, Venus and Serena seems crafted with the approval of the Williams family in mind.

Still, as Venus strives to return to form and Serena continues her assault on the title of Best Ever, Venus and Serena is a perfectly acceptable reminder of their greatness.

 

Verdict-3-0-Stars

 

 

New In Theaters

In Search of a Nail

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Dirty Wars

by Hope Madden

In 2006, Jeremy Scahill’s articles on Blackwater exposed the privatization of American military force. Seven years later, the national security correspondent for The Nation magazine sees peril in another kind of American military power, a topic he uncovers in director Rick Rowley’s documentary Dirty Wars.

Sort of a less reverent counterpart to Zero Dark Thirty, Dirty Wars traces the rise in power of the Joint Special Operations Command, the covert military arm that brought down Osama bin Laden.

Dirty Wars makes some scary predictions due to the operational style and military philosophies of JSOC. Specifically, Scahill and company foresee sprawling and endless war. They base the theory on things like kill lists that eliminate ever more vaguely articulated threats, and a constantly widening circle of acceptable collateral damage – or what some call martyrdom.

In short, they see a war on terror transformed into a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Rowley keeps an impressive pace, pausing between revelations long enough for the information to sink in without stooping to obvious pronouncements or condescending reiterations. Unfortunately, not all of his choices are wise.

The documentarian falls on gimmicky cinematic clichés to suggest clandestine research, a journalist quietly consumed by what he’s finding, struggling with the unfolding mystery.  It’s a manipulative effort to keep attention, and Rowley’s Hollywood thriller sensibilities are needless, since his content is so bewilderingly, bleakly fascinating.

Are targeted assassinations just obvious military streamlining – the natural evolution of war?

Rowley’s film exposes a military machine that distances even the military itself from the act of war. Sure, drones help, but to the JSOC, war is a business and business practices are employed. They even outsource our kill lists to Somali war lords.

Scahill’s investigation wags a bi-partisan finger. It may have been Bush who created the JSOC, he points out, but Obama’s been more than willing to utilize this military arm.

They “created one hell of a hammer,” says an unnamed former JSOC member. “And they are continually searching for a nail.”

 

Verdict-3-5-Stars

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWnrk35qYMs

New In Theaters

The Story of Her Life (and Ours)

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by George Wolf

In Stories We Tell, director Sarah Polley lets the secrets in her own family history speak to all families, eloquently questioning truths in which we often take comfort.

She already had an extensive list of acting credits when 2006’s Away From Her established Polley’s additional skills as a writer and director. Her instincts are just as true in the documentary genre, perhaps more so, as a story that has intensely private beginnings becomes universal, entertaining and genuinely moving.

Normally, we include a film’s trailer when posting a review, but not in this case. Avoid it if you can, as knowing absolutely nothing about Polley’s family dynamics before seeing Stories We Tell adds a wonderful element of discovery.

In much the same manner Bart Layton structured his incredible documentary The Imposter last year, Polley moves the story along with the best possible pace, releasing new bits of information at the exact moment they will have the most impact. This holds true even halfway through the end credits, when she drops a bombshell that gives the entire saga a new perspective.

Though some of the family members involved are not shy about wanting the film anchored from their perspective, Polley is having none of it. Her film, personal as it may be, is crafted so well that a reexamination of your own family is almost inevitable. And yet, it unfolds in such an engrossing fashion, you may forget it’s not an adaptation of the latest best-selling novel.

It is a testament to Polley’s own storytelling skill that she can turn the focus inward, and still prompt you to look at your own world in a different way.

Stories We Tell is, so far, the best film of the year.

New In Theaters, Slider

Of Sea Monsters and Men

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Pacific Rim

by Hope Madden

We’re on the edge of an apocalypse and Raleigh Becket (Charlie Hunnam) needs to let go of the past if he wants to save our future.

It was from the sensory-overload seats this week that I took in the IMAX 3D extravaganza that is Pacific Rim – the story of a boy, a robot, and a lot of clichés. Who’d have thought wretched excess could be so dull?

Director Guillermo del Toro tackles his biggest project to date, dropping $200 million on yet another monster movie. Whether a vampire, a mutating alien, a ghost, another vampire, a Hellboy or a labyrinth full of creatures, del Toro does have a preoccupation with monsters. (And Ron Perlman.)

This time the beasties are sort of sea creatures from another dimension in a film that amounts to Godzilla meets the Transformers. The generally capable, sometimes spectacular director doesn’t stop cribbing ideas there. You can find Aliens, Real Steel, maybe some Top Gun, even a little Being John Malkovich in there if you really try.

Indeed, there’s nary a single truly unique idea in the picture. Instead, del Toro relies on the abundance – glut, even – of cinematic clichés to free himself up to focus on more technical stuff, and technically speaking, the film’s pretty impressive. But not overly so.

Del Toro’s real passion seems always to have been in the creation of monsters – dude loves him some tentacles – but too few of these creatures are visually articulate enough to be really memorable or impressive. Without that, the visceral impact he’s after never fully materializes.

Sure, the concussive sound editing and even more abusive score take the experience up a sonic notch, but that’s not necessarily a good thing.

Combined with sloppy scripting and performance that are – well –  bad, the self indulgent Pacific Rim manages to be the least impressive blockbuster yet this summer. And it’s been a pretty weak summer.

Verdict-2-0-Stars





New In Theaters

Self Help Documentary

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How to Make Money Selling Drugs

by Hope Madden

While securing a screener and finalizing info on opening dates, the phrase How to Make Money Selling Drugs found its way into many of my email subject lines. Hopefully the NSA and DEA don’t come calling, but if they do, I have a fascinating movie to recommend.

Matthew Cooke’s documentary on the cost of America’s War on Drugs is not the smug expose the title suggests. Cooke expertly molds his impressive pool of data into this sardonic shell, offering lessons to lead you to the success the title offers.

He approaches the lessons as one would approach a video game. There are levels to ascend – from street corner dealer all the way to cartel drug lord. Each stop offers background information (where to start, how much you can earn), as well as hints and tips galore. (Tips for basic smuggling – hire an ex-DEA officer to watch your back.)

What he’s actually done with all these clearly labeled nuggets embedded in well-defined categories is outline a comprehensive look at our drug culture.

Data-dense and expansive, How To quickly separates itself from the recent glut of drug-related docs. Cooke does not simply recommend legalization, noting the tax benefit and lessening crime that came from striking down Prohibition. Indeed, Cooke does not do anything simply.

He emphasizes the genuine danger of drug use as one of many related crises being improperly addressed because of the nation’s crime and punishment attitude. There’s the underlying racism in the basis and execution of the laws. Don’t forget the enforcement incentivizing, which creates an overzealous police force. And of course, there’s the simplicity in the facts of supply and demand. Cooke covers it all, and does so with richly textured, strangely entertaining narratives.

We hear from nearly every type of stakeholder: dealers, kingpins, police officers, informants, ex-DEA, politicians, lawyers, academics, and that guy who wrote The Wire (David Simon – disturbingly informative). While they may not all agree on the nuance of the issues, they paint a picture of a dangerously wrong-minded approach to the problem.

And Cooke is not satisfied to simply provide anecdotal evidence and opinion. This is not Fox News, after all. Rather, he populates his brisk 90 minutes with enough clarity, data and statistics on every imaginable front that it’s hard to believe his film is as engaging and entertaining as it is.

Thank the candor of Cooke’s subjects, and his own directorial skill.

Verdict-4-0-Stars

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THu4E99uvYw





New In Theaters, Slider, Uncategorized

One Sequel, Extra Minions

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by George Wolf

 

Three years ago Despicable Me scored at the box office, thanks mainly to a funny bunch of yellow creatures who speak nothing but gibberish.

These “minions” made the film, which was fairly average otherwise, easy to like. It should come as no surprise, then, that Despicable Me 2 trots them out early and often.

At the end of part one, evil genius Gru (Steve Carell) wasn’t despicable any longer, his heart inevitably melted by three incredibly cute kids (yes I realize they’re animated but they remind me of my nieces so whatsittoya?)

This time out, Gru is recruited by special agent Lucy (Kristen Wiig) to help the good guys, in hopes that his bad guy instincts will help ferret out a villain in hiding.  

Everybody – writers, directors, most of the cast – returns from the original, but an important piece is missing. Being despicable is what made Gru a character, and taking that trait away also discards much of what makes him interesting. The love story with Lucy isn’t developed enough to fill the gap, so it’s up to the little Twinkie-looking things!

For the most part, they come through. Much like the Madagascar series continues to be  hilariously saved by the supporting lemur and penguin characters, Gru’s minions are able to provide the laughs when things start to drag. Without them, kids would be squirming and parents might be thinking of an early exit.

The sum of unequal parts, DM2 is perfectly pleasant, if unexceptional, family fare.

 

Verdict-3-0-Stars

 

 





New In Theaters, Slider

Depp and Hammer at Home on the Range

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The Lone Ranger

by Hope Madden

Back in 1995, I watched Johnny Depp in a Western of sorts that paired a supposedly dead white man with an outcast Indian on a journey through the wild west. There were trains and bad men. Iggy Pop co-starred. I’m not sure what else a person could want in a film.

This was Jim Jarmusch’s wondrous Dead Man, and I was reminded of the film repeatedly as I watched its super-mainstream Disney counterpart The Lone Ranger. In case you’ve missed the typhoon of advertising, Depp plays Tonto to Armie Hammer’s masked do-gooder.

Iggy Pop is nowhere to be seen. Pity.

The  handsome pair (although one is caked in mud the entire running time – if it’s not giant teeth or Eddie Munster make up it’s mud with this one) are flung together quite against either’s will, but a shared desire to bring down Butch Cavendish (William Fichtner) binds them.

This is the Lone Ranger’s origin story, told mostly for laughs, but director Gore Verbinski and his team of writers hope to stir a bit of historical context into the mix.

If you’re going to resurrect the culturally insensitive figure of Tonto for a modern film, it’ll be important to address the racism of the time head on. But, if you’re bringing the Lone Ranger back to life, clip-clopping action and fun are requirements. How to balance?

Well, for the fun and excitement, Verbinski reteams with the writers of his other Depp adventures, the Pirates of the Carribbean franchise (Ted Elliott and Terry Rosio). Indeed, The Lone Ranger has far too much in common with Verbinski’s Pirates series – down to one sparsely blond outlaw sporting a parasol.

For the serious underpinnings of genocide –  a tough topic for a family adventure film – Verbinski nabbed Justin Haythe, who’s penned two pretentious dramas (The Clearing, Revolutionary Road) and a Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson film (Snitch).

The socio-political context is mishandled, is what I’m saying, and the drama feels wildly out of place in a film that puts a hat-wearing horse on a tree limb.

The tonal mishmash hampers everything about the film. In fact, though he tried for a full 2 ½ hours (good lord, Verbinski, give it a break!), the director simply cannot find an acceptable tone. Depp and Hammer generate an immediately likeable odd couple chemistry, buoyed immeasurably by Fichtner’s gleefully unseemly bad guy, but the movie remains a slapped together mess.

Plus, no Iggy Pop.

Verdict-2-5-Stars

 





New In Theaters

Have I Seen You Somewhere Before?

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The Heat

by Hope Madden

It’s interesting how a film can be so familiar and so unusual at the same time. Take The Heat. Pairing an A-list movie star with a proven comic talent for a buddy cop comedy is hardly a fresh idea. 48 Hours, Rush Hour, The Other Guys – it’s been done, and it doesn’t always work. Still, it is a well-worn concept that often delivers enough laughs to merit a couple of hours.

Now, thanks mostly to the deserved popularity of Bridesmaids, it has finally occurred to someone in Hollywood that women can shoulder an R-rated comedy. So, bro-mance is not a requirement for this odd couple caper, in which both cops are women – specifically,  Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy.

Bullock is the uptight Ashburn to McCarthy’s loose cannon Mullins, the Felix to her Oscar, the Danny Glover to her Mel Gibson. They’ve been paired against their wills to ferret out a Boston drug lord. Maybe they’ll exploit each other’s foibles in the process, maybe even find an unexpected friend. (I’ll give them this – at no time does either detective say she is getting too old for this shit.)

The two leads fill the requisite roles quite well, Bullock’s angular, anal-retentive is the perfect foil for McCarthy’s unkempt profanity volcano. Bullock keeps pace admirably, but McCarthy is such an inexhaustible comedy explosion that the rest of the cast doesn’t have to work too hard. Her every line feels improvised, giving Katie Dippold’s otherwise predictable script much needed vitality.

McCarthy’s riotous performance honestly outshines everything about a film that’s content to coast on the novelty of female casting. Nothing else about The Heat bears remark – clichéd comedy trappings familiarly staged and directed, with Sandra Bullock relying on her Miss Congeniality stylings. It’s not terrible, but certainly nothing to write home about.

But there is nothing stale about McCarthy. Her talent for physical gags, her impeccable timing, and her bottomless well of one-liners gives every scene, however tired, the opportunity for a laugh.

 

Verdict-3-0-Stars