Jodorowsky’s Dune isn’t actually the famed director’s long-overdue treatment of a science fiction classic, but you’ll end up wishing that it was.
And, ironically, that’s a testament to how well this documentary tells its story of “the greatest sci-fi film never made.”
Chilean artist/writer/filmmaker/actor Alejandro Jodorowsky came to prominence in the early 1970s with surrealist, boundary-pushing films such as El Topo and The Holy Mountain. In 1975, he began a project that aimed to turn Frank Herbert’s epic novel Dune into something resembling an acid trip on film.
By all accounts, that film would have been awesome, so why didn’t we get it?
Director Frank Pavich answers that question in an interesting, entertaining way, wisely putting Jodorowsky himself front and center.
Jodorowsky is still energetic and ambitious at age 85, and you can’t help but buy into his vision. Even now, he bubbles with excitement when outlining his failed plans, which included offering Orson Welles his own on -set personal chef just so Welles would join the cast. Budgets were not much of a concern to Jodorowsky, and you begin to understand why the big film studios were a tad frightened.
Science fiction geeks and movie nerds will be in behind-the-scenes heaven, but the film also works on a mainstream level. It’s a compelling story of the creative process and the passion that drives it.
Pavich showcases Jodorowky’s “most interesting man”-style charisma, and surrounds it with the relevance needed to both entertain and satisfy. By the time Pavich offers concrete examples of how the original Dune storyboards continue to influence Hollywood, you’ll be sorry Jodorowsky’s Dune isn’t the opener of a nonexistent double feature.
It takes a few minutes to get a handle on Teenage, but don’t let go. His methods may be a bitoutside the norm for documentaries, but director/co-writer Matt Wolf (no relation) ultimately creates a captivating look at the evolution of the teenage experience.
Mixing classic newsreel footage with fictional recreations and celebrity narrators (Jena Malone,Ben Whishaw) Wolf overcomes moments of pretension to deliver a vibrant collage of history lesson, art film, and political statement.
The film reminds us that, hard as it may be for Beliebers to belieb, “teenager” wasn’t always a thing. Starting with the period before child labor laws and working forward, Wolf illustrates how societies in both Europe and America slowly began to recognize adolescence as a separate, and viable, stage of life.
Phrases such as “our music made the feet of the world dance” may be a bit dramatic, but then, so are teens. The dramatic details the film provides, from the birth of the Boy Scouts to Vietnam, do much to overcome the heavy handed moments.
Wolf seems to realize he’s bitten into a big subject, one he can’t begin to encompass at the pace he settles into. While some historical periods do get short shrift, Teenage becomes an effective highlight reel, one that sparks your curiosity for more.
Chances are, you’ll enjoy Neighbors regardless, but a particular appreciation for penis humor is definitely a plus. It’s a frat movie. What else were we expecting?
Here’s what you should expect: fully developed characters, solid performances, onscreen chemistry from the weirdest of pairings, clever direction, sharp writing, and pacing quick enough to make it tough to catch your breath between jokes. And, of course, dick jokes.
Nice, right?
Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne play new parents still adjusting to the boring responsibility of adulthood when a fraternity buys the house next door.
What Rogen lacks in range he makes up for in schlubby comic ability, particularly with a script so self-aware and custom-made to his strengths. At one point, when the couple is arguing over who’s to blame for their situation, Rogen’s Mac tells his wife that she has to be the responsible grown up. “Haven’t you ever seen a Kevin James movie?” he asks her. “We can’t both be Kevin James.”
While Rogen is reliably Rogen, Byrne explores new territory and conquers. She more than carries her comic load, and her chemistry with Rogen, in particular, is wonderful.
Truth be told, there’s not a one-note character in the lot. Neighbors never traps itself with old frat boy stereotypes. Sure, they’re all good-looking, vacuous partiers who abuse pledges – that is the basic conflict in the film, after all – but the characters themselves get a fuller treatment than what you might expect.
Zac Efron looks good without a shirt, but he also hits all the right notes, bringing a little depth and empathy to the role of frat president Ted. Dave Franco makes an excellent second banana, and Christopher Mintz-Plasse plays nicely against type as slacker stoner Scoonie.
The laughs are continuous, and while the film certainly has a heart, it’s not the kind of sappy last-minute-lesson-learned crap that derails most raunchy comedies. There’s an awkward tenderness and humanity that informs the film from start to finish that makes any lessons feel more honest and earned.
Director Nicholas Stoller (Forgetting Sarah Marshall) reigns in his tendency to toward excess, bringing the film in at a brisk 96 minutes. He crams those visually arresting minutes with as much deeply flawed human comedy as possible. And at least half that time is spent without mention or sight of a penis.
Ohio native Liza Johnson continues her impressive evolution as a filmmaker with her latest independent drama, Hateship Loveship. In it, Johnson balances plot threads and character arcs, giving each just the depth necessary to keep the action moving. Her tale itself just can’t quite keep up.
What’s most interesting about the film is that it announces Kristin Wiig as a dramatic performer. She plays Johanna, an observant but almost invisible creature raised on responsibility, hard work and solitude. She’s hired by the McCauleys to keep house and, ostensibly, keep an eye on the teenaged Sabitha (Hailee Steinfeld). But when Sabitha and her best friend Edith (Sami Gayle – perfectly pitched mean girl) play a cruel prank, things get complicated.
Wiig mostly impresses in her first entirely dramatic role. She carries a lot of screen time and carves out an unusual but believable character. Johanna is a bit of an enigma, but Wiig finds a true center that makes her feel real. It’s a reserved, understated turn, but at times her performance can be blunt when nuance is called for.
Wiig’s blessed and cursed with a talented supporting cast. Blessed in that each actor brings vulnerable authenticity to the role; cursed because her performance feels sometimes less than natural in comparison.
The often underrated Guy Pearce does well with a role that could easily have become clichéd. Because his Ken is so likeable, even when his actions are not, emotions and tensions run uncomfortably high during the film’s most dramatic segments.
Steinfeld, saddled with a smattering of forgettable characters since her standout performance in 2010’s True Grit, finally gets the chance to shine again. She and Gayle articulate the emotional and moral roller coaster that is adolescence without ever feeling trite or predictable.
Nick Nolte also graces the screen as the benevolent curmudgeon, and the film is certainly the better for it.
Mark Poirnier’s screenplay adapts a short from Alice Munro. Their work understands the unpredictable resilience humans sometimes find, and when the focus is on the unraveling of the cruel joke, Johanna’s story is almost unbearably fascinating. But in drawing out the tale to a feature length running time, it begins to feel like a pile up of contrivances.
There’s a lot to like about Hateship Loveship, though, including performances that will help you overlook the flaws.
The big screen upgrade to fan favorite teen TV detective Veronica Mars is available today on DVD and Blu-Ray. Kristin Bell ably shoulders this self-aware, witty and fun retread. Fans of the show will be thrilled while the uninitiated are just as likely to enjoy the seedy antics of Neptune, California.
Another great fan favorite to make the leap to the silver screen is Strangers with Candy. Stephen Colbert’s stepping stone program follows the wildly hilarious high school mishaps of “reformed” drug addict/stripper/overbite victim Jerry Blank (the genius Amy Sedaris). It’s such a joy to see the cinematic version take that same twisted after school special approach, but Colbert, Sedaris and company are insanely funny no matter the size of the screen.
We are cautiously optimistic about Neighbors, the new comedy starring Seth Rogan and Zac Effron. With a 97% right now on Rotten Tomatoes, it may just be the next great R-rated comedy. Heady company, if you think about it. And we did. Here, in no particular order, are our 15 favorite R-rated comedies.
Well, hockey season’s over for us here in Columbus, so why not get the summer blockbuster season underway?
The sequel to the reboot that came too soon boasts the same strengths and suffers from the same ailments as its predecessor. It’s a well cast, good looking, derivative entry in a tired franchise.
The film offers a common theme for the second installment of any superhero series – especially any Spider-Man series. Spidey (Andrew Garfield) struggles with his life as a superhero, and with the love of his life (Emma Stone). Everyone he loves is in danger, or are they? I mean, he is Spider-Man, after all.
It’s a foundational concept that allows returning helmsman Marc Webb and his team of writers to mine weighty emotions as they swing audiences back and forth between Spidey’s rapturous run as a vigilante and the forces assembling to put him and his loved ones in peril.
What works well here is the emotion. The fact that our villains come from a sympathetic place, and that their misinterpreted sense of betrayal fuels their villainy, gives each a tasty complexity.
It helps that Webb’s cast is so strong. Stone and Garfield continue to charm, while additions Jamie Foxx, Dane DaHaan and Chris Cooper bring more real talent to the ensemble.
Foxx brings humor and empathy to the flesh and blood side of his Electro character, while Webb’s FX team help him look pretty cool.
Meanwhile, DaHaan is effective as Peter Parker’s damaged friend and Oscorp heir Harry. His turn far exceeds James Franco’s cardboard performance from the previous trilogy – and Cooper’s cameo as Harry’s father offers more bite in thirty seconds than Willem Dafoe brought in two installments.
Still, DaHaan (Chronicle, Place Beyond the Pines, Kill Your Darlings) needs to break free from the typecasting that threatens to crush his career. And Webb should be slapped for so heinously underusing Paul Giamatti.
Webb approaches the picture like a theme park thrill ride. All bright lights and roller coasters, the film is fun and fast-paced, but ultimately a staged and shallow experience. It’s not just a superficial ability with the visuals, but also a soft script that relies too heavily on actor chemistry to carry the weight of the emotional scenes.
There are a couple of surprises, though. Here’s one I will give up, and it can hardly be counted as a spoiler since all I’m really doing is saving you ten minutes and some bladder discomfort. Still, in an effort to retain some mystery, I’ll spill the beans in the form of a riddle.
What does The Amazing Spider-Man 2 have in common with the Stanley Cup finals?
When my brother and I were kids, we would quietly laugh anytime our grandparents traded caustic put-downs, which, the older they got, was often. Did they still even love each other? We didn’t think about that, we just thought that two old married people openly showing weary disgust was pretty funny.
It’s funny in Le Week-End as well, and made even more effective when balanced with the couple’s search for their long-lost romantic side.
Brits Nick (Jim Broadbent) and Meg (Lindsay Duncan) are celebrating their wedding anniversary with a weekend in Paris, the site of their honeymoon 30 years earlier. The finances are nearly as empty as their nest, and their love life……well, it’s been awhile.
Most times, you’d be able to fill in the rest of the blanks: Paris! Romance! Sex! Love! Happy!
Instead, director Roger Mitchell (Notting Hill/Hyde Park on Hudson) and writer Hanif Kureishi(My Beautiful Laundrette/Venus) explore plenty of dark side, giving us a couple at a crossroads in life that feels real, often heartbreakingly so.
As Nick, Broadbent is his usual sublime self, effortlessly bringing to life the quiet desperation described so succinctly by Pink Floyd as “the English way.” Broadbent’s performance is both funny and poignant, never letting us forget that Nick’s desperation over his golden years is rooted in the fear of losing his wife.
No wonder, as Duncan is glorious. In her hands, Meg is playful, hateful, and still plenty sexy. Most of all, she is an intelligent, accomplished woman with a yearning that she’s not quite sure how to satisfy.
Kureishi’s smart, snappy script doesn’t take sides or provide easy answers. Though a scene-stealing performance from Jeff Goldblum as an old friend of Nick’s shows a glimpse of the film’s hand, we’re trusted to be party guests capable of our own conclusions about this couple, the human condition, and our own lives.
How novel.
One or two convenient plot turns aside, Le Week-End is a treat that, while frequently sobering, remains ultimately inspiring.
The wonderful, must-see Chilean import Gloria drops on home audiences today, boasting a beautiful performance by Paulina Garcia in the lead role. A sort of coming-of-middle-age tale, it’s a film of surprising honesty and candor, with every emotional moment heightened by Garcia’s generous performance.
Treading somewhat similar territory and yet telling a tale entirely its own is Starting Out in the Evening. Here’s another film boasting an absolutely magnificent central performance, this time from the ever-reliable Frank Langella, who plays a long-retired writer coaxed back into the profession and into life. It’s bittersweet and deeply touching, with Langella hitting every emotional note perfectly.
It’s almost May…what’s that I smell? Lilacs? Goose poop? Fresh spring roadkill? Nope, it’s that similar fragrance mashup of boutonnieres, hair spray, and desperation that equals prom.
Let’s all relive our own prom anxieties while the kids struggle through their real-life horror, shall we?
Carrie (1976)
Yes! Best prom movie ever! Sure, it opens like a ‘70s soft core porno with images created by a director who has clearly never been in a girls’ locker room. But as soon as that bloody stream punctures the dreamlike shower sequence, we witness the definitive moment in mean girl cinema.
No, Senior Prom, or “Love Among the Stars,” doesn’t go as well as it might have for poor Carrie White (Sissy Spacek) and her classmates. Contrite Sue Snell (Amy Irving), who’d given up her own prom so boyfriend Tommy (William Katt, sporting an awe inspiring ‘fro) could accompany Carrie, sneaks in to witness her own good deed. Unfortunately for Sue, the strict rules of horror cinema demand that outcasts remain outcasts. Sure, Sue shouldn’t have been mean to Carrie in the first place, but being nice was the big mistake. Only bad things would follow.
Quote: They’re all going to laugh at you.
Prom Night (1980)
This bland Jamie Lee Curtis slasher crystalized a formula that would be mimicked (often more successfully) for decades. Open with a flashback, turn it into a secret kept among a handful of friends, flash forward to one big event these friends are planning, nightmare resurfaces and red herrings await.
But that’s not the reason to see Prom Night. See it for the super-colossal dance floor boogie. Go Jamie Lee and Jamie Lee’s thumbs, go! Is that Leslie Nielsen? Who brought that glitter? It’s always fun to see someone die on prom night.
Quote: It’s not who you go with, honey. It’s who takes you home.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7cVcnApjsvk
Napoleon Dynamite (2004)
No one rocks a brown corduroy suit at a formal dance like my husband, but Napoleon Dynamite comes in second. And what about Deb’s awesome sleeves? That’s a styling couple.
Kip may have found his soul mate, but poor Napoleon’s still swimming the tepid pool of young love, llama food, best friends, delusional uncles, ailing grandmas, and sweet moves. Thank God for it.
Quote: I like your sleeves.
Grease (1978)
Poodle skirt to hot pants, that’s the transformation at the heart of this generation-pleaser. Did Sandy (Olivia Newton John) have a yeast infection by the time she got those pants off? Well, of course she did, but it was worth it to call John Travolta a stud and do a frisky dance in the Shake Shack.
Let’s not forget the prom, though. Cha Cha DiGregorio (the best dancer at St. Bernadette’s…with the worst reputation!) might have planned to dump Kenickie and steal Danny (Travolta) away from the fair and timid Sandy, but she did not know the hygienically questionable lengths Sandy was willing to go to keep her man.
Quote: It doesn’t matter if you win or lose, it’s what you do with your dancin’ shoes.
Footloose (1984)
See this one now, not the ridiculous remake. (How do I know it’s ridiculous? Because it’s a remake of Footloose, for Lord’s sake.)
Kevin Bacon moves to a hyper-conservative town and has to dance his way out. John Lithgow scowls. Sarah Jessica Parker looks unfashionable. Chris Penn learns to disco. Tears are shed, families are mended.
Quote: If our Lord wasn’t testing us, how would you account for the proliferation, these days, of this obscene rock and roll music, with its gospel of easy sexuality and relaxed morality?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nSXtZPKms4
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992)
Years before Sarah Michelle Gellar began her 145-episode vampire battle royale, and one year before writer Joss Whedon would pen the animated masterpiece Toy Story, Kristy Swanson joined that guy from 90210 (Luke Perry) to stake the undead at the big high school formal as the silver screen Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Bonus points for casting choices in Paul Reubens and Rutger Hauer as marauding, stinky vampires. Additional points for an early, non-Oscar nominated role for Hilary Swank.
Quote: All I want to do is graduate from high school, go to Europe, marry Christian Slater, and die.
Pretty in Pink (1986)
Part 3 of the Molly Trilogy, Pretty in Pink mopes with a cool redhead (Ringwald) from the wrong side of the tracks as she stokes her anxiety about prom and its place in her existential dread.
Some claim you can learn all you need to know about a person by asking which is their favorite Beatle. I disagree. The real question: who did you root for, Blane or Duckie?
Quote: His name is Blane?! That’s not a name, that’s a major appliance.
