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Bullets and Bikinis..What Could Go Wrong?

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By George Wolf

 

Spring Break! Whoo-hooo!

Actually, from here on out you may pronounce it spraaannggg braaayyyk, thanks to James Franco’s unforgettable performance in the surprisingly good Spring Breakers.

The biggest surprise is that, coming as it does from gonzo writer/director Harmony Korine, the film adopts a fairly normal narrative structure in delivering a rumination on the nihilistic nature of popular culture. If you’ve seen Korine’s what-the-fuck?- classics such as Gummo or Trash Humpers, you know “fairly normal” is not his usual neighborhood.

The film follows four college girls (Selena Gomez, Vanessa Hudgens, Ashley Benson, and the filmmaker’s wife Rachel Korine) desperate to break out of their “seeing the same things every day” routine. They gleefully rob a restaurant for some fast cash, and then hop a bus to Florida for the annual spring bacchanalia.

Their exploits don’t get much more law-abiding, and after landing in the the county jail, they’re bailed out by the mysterious “Alien” (Franco), a self-described rapper/gangsta/hustler with a “ballr” license plate and a mansion full of of guns, drugs, and the requisite nunchucks.

Much like Matthew McConaughey in Magic Mike, Franco is an unhinged force of nature, commanding the screen and owning the film. While much as been made of former Disney princesses Gomez and Hudgens playing down and dirty bad girl roles, both are practically invisible whenever Franco is around.

While Franco is the main reason to see Spring Breakers, he’s not, as McConaughey was  in Magic Mike,  the only reason.

Korine has something to say here, and, though he skirts with casting too many judgements on his characters, he says it pretty well. Outrageous, courageous, and often very funny, Spring Breakers is worth your time.

Plus, you’ll never think of Britney Spears music the same way again. Trust me.

3 1/2 stars (out of 5)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVvn9T6bqls

 

 

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A Powerful Film Anchored by Another Great Teen Performance

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by Hope Madden

I am beginning to believe the best actors working today are not yet old enough to drink beer. Most aren’t old enough to see PG-13 films. War Witch does not dissuade me from this opinion.

In the film, writer/director Kim Nguyen takes a path similar to that of the magnificent Beasts of the Southern Wild or the poignant and lovely Lore. He uses a child’s point of view to detail individual suffering, crafting a troubling yet wondrous tale of resilience.

Beasts of the Southern Wild – among the very best films of 2012 – exposed audiences to the horror of a hurricane through the eyes of a little girl (the ferocious Quvenzhane Wallis, then 6 years old) living in its wake.  Likewise, Cate Shortland’s lyrical Lore introduces an adolescent Hitler Youth (a heartbreaking Saskia Rosendahl, then 17), as an opportunity to see the immediate aftermath of WWII in a new and touching way.

Nguyen’s heroine in War Witch survives something even more unimaginable. Kidnapped at 12 and forced into the life of a child soldier in Sub Saharan Africa, Komona (a miraculous Rachel Mwanza, now 16) accepts the horror, suffering and survival around her as part of the nightmare world she must endure.

The film’s impressionistic, almost surreal atmosphere mirrors the thinking of the child at the heart of the story. There’s little on earth more irrational, or more fraught with dark magic, than war. So certainly it makes sense, when detailing one 12-year-old girl’s plight when war comes calling, to use her point of view and cast a bit of magical realism, however horrific.

Nguyen’s approach, blending a straightforward sensibility with elements of the supernatural, is perfect: candid and unsentimental but cloudy with juvenile logic, it articulates the point of view of a child, it mirrors the incomprehensible suffering of war, and it allows him to tell the story without bending to overt politicizing.

Cinematographer Nicolas Bolduc marvelously recreates the almost inconceivable horror in a way that is understated enough for an audience to begin to understand how a human being withstands it. Through his lens we see the resilience of a child, and of the human race itself.

Mwanza’s warm, quiet, phenomenal performance can’t be ignored. In a powerful debut she shoulders the film – appearing in every scene but one. It is through her narration that we learn, without bombast or melodrama, about endurance.

4 stars (out of 5)

 

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Maybe put Fey in the new Anchorman instead?

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By Hope Madden

The idea of pairing Tina Fey and Paul Rudd is very appealing. They are funny, smart and talented – and yet so often willing to take soft-boiled parts where they play socially awkward cutie pies. Like, for instance, Admission.

Fey plays Portia, a buttoned-up Princeton admissions counselor looking for happiness in a hum drum life inside the ivory tower. Rudd’s John, on the other hand, is an impetuous free spirit currently serving the youth of the world as an alternative school teacher.

Both of these misguided adults decide to help one unusual teen get into Princeton in this good hearted, underwhelming comedy about parents and children and the damage we do to each other.

Of course, Portia and John fall for each other, Portia comes to terms with her ambition and her mother (a scene-stealing Lily Tomlin), John realizes fatherhood requires some sacrifice, and lessons are learned just all over the place. Sounds hilarious, doesn’t it?

Nope. Funny is not the word to describe Admission.  And that’s a crime, really. Wasting comic talents like Rudd and Fey should come with consequences.

Director Paul Weitz knows how to orchestrate a smart comedy, having helmed flicks from the raucous American Pie to the complex About a Boy to the wizened American Dreamz. Unfortunately, he cannot find his rhythm here.

Karen Croner seems a likely culprit. The screenwriter had never written a comedy before and frankly, still hasn’t. Working from the novel by Jean Hanff Korelitz, Croner is content to embed flat one liners into a laid back comment on finding true happiness in age old family values.

Side plots abound, each meant to create humiliating moments of comic gold for Fey. Unfortunately, every zany tale – whether with an ex-boyfriend (an underused Michael Sheen), an office rival (Gloria Reuben), or a ferocious mother – goes nowhere.

Fey overworks the “frazzled woman pretending to have it all together” bit, trying too hard to generate energy and chuckles in scenes without potential. A charming, warm Rudd is nothing if not likeable, but he, too, suffers from an absence of opportunity to draw more than a few fond smiles.

Very little works in this toothless comedy that has courage enough to avoid a tidy ending, yet still falls back on an almost offensively traditional image of happiness, one that requires roots, a man, a woman, and a child.

2 stars (out of 5)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Lc9DwpMo6M

 

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God Help Me, I Miss the Piñata

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By Hope Madden

Enigmatic filmmaker Makinov (he wears a mask, which is weird) launches a new thriller this weekend called Come Out and Play, and it may feel pretty familiar. That could be because it is a nearly shot-for-shot remake of Narciso Ibanez Serrador’s little-seen 1976 flick Who Can Kill a Child? (released in the US as Island of the Damned).

Whether you saw that dusty gem or not, you’re still likely to find the film recognizable because Come Out and Play boils down to a familiar template: protagonists are stranded, hordes are killing everyone.  It could just as easily be a zombie film or an animal attack flick. Instead, it’s one of those nightmares that sees our own sweet tots turning on us.

Married couple Francis (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) and a pretty pregnant Beth (Vinessa Shaw) are on holiday, heading to the remote island Punta Hueca. Once there, they find only dusty children running about – nary an adult turns up as they comb the isle for lunch, a shower and a bed.

They find out soon enough that they are 1) stranded, and 2) screwed.

For the majority of the film’s running time, we simply follow Beth and Francis as they walk, then run, then hide in and among abandoned island buildings. This span is, at times, tedious, frustrating, and full of bad decision making – but this is a horror film, and those particular elements do generate tension.

Makinov’s deliberate pacing and unique, unnerving use of sound work well with the slight plot, wringing as much anxiety as possible out of the stranded couple’s predicament. Wisely, he sidesteps a lot of the pitfall of “killer children” films by keeping the wee ones’ dialogue to a minimum, letting their menacing stares and maniacal glee do their talking for them.

Francis and Beth, on the other hand, have plenty of screen time to make an impression. They offer believable chemistry, and Moss-Bachrach, in particular, animates his character’s internal struggle quite well. Shaw grows tiresome, but it’s hard to beat the presence of a pregnant lady to limit movement and ramp up tension.

Makinov pulls some punches Serrador was happy to land (God help me, I  miss the pinata), but the film remains effectively disconcerting, offering a decent new vision of murderous children that’s worth a look.

Or, you could head to Netflix, where the dated but superior original is available on DVD.

3 stars (out of 5)

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For Your Queue: Ignore the Hyperbole, Embrace the Subtitles

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While we often like to suggest one newly available DVD and one older title worthy of looking up, this week we thought – screw that, there are two new ones we want to recommend!  So that’s what we’re gonna do. We’re edgy like that.

Two first rate films release this week, beginning with Zero Dark Thirty, the gripping tale of the hunt for Osama bin Laden from director Kathryn Bigelow and writer Mark Boal.

Look past the hyperbolic debate the film inspired, and you’ll find a work of meticulous craftsmanship that is bursting with intelligence, suspense, and a profound respect for the story it is telling.

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

Meanwhile, Rust and Bone (De rouille et d’os) , a gritty and punishing a tale of sexual redemption, tells of two broken people unconventionally well suited to each other. Crafting a spell of raw, emotional and sexual intimacy borne of struggle, writer/director Jacques Audiard (A Prophet) introduces two strangers (Marion Cotillard and Matthias Schoenaerts). How do they find anything in common, let alone generate the fierce bond they share?

The chemistry between the leads keeps the film taut, and Audiard’s wandering storyline and loyalty to his characters forever surprises.

 

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You’re Encouraged to Continue Believin’

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By George Wolf

 

If you’re an inhabitant of planet Earth, you’ve heard Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’.” According to a new documentary on the band, it is the most downloaded song of the 20th century.

It was co-written and sung, of course, by Steve Perry, Journey’s most famous former lead singer. These days, it is sung in concert by a diminutive Filipino named Arnel Pineda, and his story is outlined in Don’t Stop Believin’:  Everyman’s Journey.

After the split with Perry in 1998, Perry sound-alike Steve Augeri handled vocal duties for almost ten years. Then, when the band once again found itself in need of a singer, Journey guitarist Neal Schon scoured youtube for Journey tribute bands.

He stopped when he heard Pineda’s powerful voice, and a trip from Manila to California was quickly arranged so Pineda could audition in person. He got the gig, and continues with the band today.

Director Ramona S. Diaz wraps the story in a feel-good gloss that is more fitting of a concert film than a true documentary. There is plenty of live show footage and backstage material, with each band member shown only in a positive light. Pineda’s rise from Third-World poverty to rock stardom may be the film’s hook, but many emotional details are skirted in a project that too often smacks of an overlong marketing ploy.

Still, Pineda comes off as a very likable guy, both grateful for and nervous about his good fortune. The band, in turn, seems sweetly protective of their new, young-enough-to-be-their-son frontman, and are energized by Pineda’s youthful exuberance.

Years ago, when Judas Priest replaced singer Rob Halford with Priest tribute band vocalist “Ripper” Owens, the story was so novel it inspired the movie “Rock Star.” Now, the process makes perfect sense.

Pineda’s backstory makes Journey’s case more unique, and though Don’t Stop Believin’:  Everyman’s Journey could use more of that story, the set list it settles on is entertaining enough to leave you singing a little something about “South Detroit.”

3 stars (out of 5)

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Call Me Pleasantly Surprised

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by George Wolf

THE CALL

Let’s be honest, The Call is a pretty weak movie title. And, if you’ve seen the film’s preview trailer, odds are that didn’t knock you out either.

So, surprise! The movie itself is pretty engaging.

Halle Berry, sporting a bad hairdo to make her look more “average”, plays L.A. 911 operator Jordan Turner. While on the line with a young girl who is trying to avoid a kidnapper, Jordan has a slight lapse in judgment that ends up having tragic consequences.

Months later, Jordan is handed a call from Casey, (Abigail Breslin) another young victim who has managed to call 911 from the trunk of her kidnapper’s car.  Finding that they are both Capricorns, Jordan tells Casey that, as born “fighters,” they are going to help each other fight back against the attacker.

When The Call succeeds, it is mainly a result of good directing trumping bad writing. Director Brad Anderson (The Machinist, Transsiberian) has a solid grasp on the action, often filming in extreme, shaky closeup to aid the feel of disorientation. When passing motorists or helpful gas station attendants try to come to Casey’s aid, Anderson pulls back, letting events unfold with proper tension.

Too often, though, these effective segments are interrupted by momentum-killing scenes full of stilted, implausible dialogue, such as when Jordan is training new employees on the 911 system. After a speech that overly educates the audience, Jordan is asked why she isn’t actually taking the calls anymore. Cue dramatic flashback…just before she’s called back into action!

As Casey’s situation grows more desperate, The Call wanders into the horror neighborhood, and Anderson gets caught up giving too many homages to one particular horror classic. To avoid spoilers, I won’t mention the film, but if you’re a horror fan, there’s little question you’ll miss the references.

Berry, as is the case with too many Oscar winners, has had trouble following her Monster’s Ball win in 2001 with solid roles in good films. The Call, while certainly not award-worthy, is a well-paced and effective crowd-pleaser that should generate enough positive word-of-mouth to make it a hit.

3 stars (out of 5)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aEQdnk_rlY

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“Incredible” is apparently relative

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By Hope Madden

The Incredible Burt Wonderstone squanders an interesting premise and a talented cast on an atonal, uninspired comedy. It’s the kind of film that generates a few grins with its general pleasantness, but never offers the kind of laugh out loud moments that let you overlook its larger flaws.

The ever-likeable Steve Carell plays Burt Wonderstone, the bewigged and bejeweled Vegas magician whose lost his love of magic just in time for his public to move on to the next big thing – Jim Carrey’s extreme magician Steve Grey (think David Blaine with self-mutilation tendencies).

It’s not a bad idea, but it is badly executed. Wonderstone can’t decide if it’s a spoof or a family film. In the end, it succeeds at neither aim.

Rather than mining for pop culture laughs, as its screenplay attempts to do in spurts, director Don Scardino wallows in sentiment. Will Burt recover his childlike wonder? Learn to appreciate what he has right in front of him? Wow back a crowd? These probing questions and others are emphasized at every turn with an overbearing score, in case you might miss the emotionally moving moments.

Part of the reason Scardino’s schmaltzy approach doesn’t work is that it’s at odds with the script itself. Gags about making foggy old ladies cry, bringing magic (rather than food) to starving children, and performing wildly inappropriate “tricks” at a birthday party – not to mention a nutty, drug-fueled finale – should have felt edgier, but they are so softened by Scardino’s family-friendly vibe that they barely leave an impression.

The cast gets credit for heroic efforts, though. Supporting players James Gandolfini, Alan Arkin, Steve Buscemi and Olivia Wilde make honest efforts to create interesting, memorable characters.

But if Carell’s egomaniac feels a little forced (it sure does!), then his change of heart feels a lot forced. Carell’s comic timing and sense of the absurd often carry him through lifeless scenes, but it’s not enough to overcome the lazily written dialogue no matter how much velvet and glitter he throws at it.

Carrey’s fun as the star of the internet program Brain Rapist (another funny bit that feels out of place), but he’s far too old to play an up-and-coming street performer. Rather than youthful competition, he looks like Carell’s white trash uncle.

Actually, both actors are 51 – also known as “old enough to be Olivia Wilde’s dad.” Or, in this case, love interest.

It’s not unbelievable, people. It’s magic.

2 stars (out of 5)

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Teenage Wasteland

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By George Wolf

 

By weaving adolescent disillusionment and dreamlike imagery into a well known history lesson rife with brutality, Lore is able to cast a gripping, often poetic spell.

Set in Germany at the close of World War II, the teenaged Hannalore becomes head of her household when her parents, due to their Nazi ties, are interred by Allied forces. With four siblings to take care of (including a new baby), “Lore” decides they must all set out on foot for the safety of their grandmother’s home in Hamburg.

Australian director/co-writer Cate Shortland skillfully crafts the cross-country trip as a story of awakenings. Lore is a proud member of the Hitler youth, and she begins the journey full of defiant pride in her homeland. When a mysterious stranger offers assistance, Lore is perplexed by mixed feelings of hate and burgeoning sexual desire.

In the title role, Saskia Rosendahl does not shrink from the responsibility of carrying the movie through her performance. We have to feel Lore’s evolution, as she begins to question everything about the life she has known and realizes the horrors hidden by her own family. Rosendahl, in her film debut, is wonderful, often able to convey Lore’s inner turmoil through little more than a glance.

Framing the story through Lore’s eyes, Shortland constructs a nimble juxtaposition between the usual ways that a teenager’s eyes are opened, and the terrible realizations the German people were forced to accept.

Shortland also makes the most of Adam Arkapaw’s sublime cinematography, filling Lore with impressionistic visuals that give the story a hypnotic, almost lyrical flow.

Before leaving the family to fend for themselves, Lore’s mother instructs her to “never forget who you are.” The journey, of course, is about learning just how deep that lesson runs.

Smart, well- acted and beautifully assembled, Lore is a compelling tale of innocence lost.

 

4 stars (out of 5)

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For Your Queue: Dare we leave Rudy on the St. Pat’s movie bench?

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Nothing so great releases to DVD this week (yes, Life of Pi does, but really, it was the glorious big screen 3D that made it worth seeing) so we thought, why not make some recommendations for the holiday? You can do more on St. Patrick’s Day than drink yourself into oblivion, like watch some fascinating Irish movies. Although, to be honest, there’s a fair amount of drinking going on here, too.

Let’s start with 2006’s Once, because, it addition to being a great film, it proves there’s more to Irish music then tales of death, dismemberment, and death by dismemberment. Glen Hansard and Marketta Irglova (known on real-life concert stages as “The Swell Season”) star as unnamed musicians who, during one eventful week in Dublin, document their feelings toward each other via song. Once is a graceful, life-affirming story that succeeds where so many other have failed. It explores the mysteries of love and the wonder of music, while never sacrificing an ounce of realism.

Knuckle (2011) is the fascinating if uneven documentary about “fairfights” held among Ireland’s Traveler community. (Don’t call them gypsies.) The closed community opens up to filmmaker Ian Palmer about these wager-dependent, bare knuckle bouts meant to resolve blood feuds among clans. They seem lumbering, unchoreographed, and brutish to viewers accustomed to Hollywood bouts, but fascinating nonetheless. Filming for more than a decade, Palmer uncovers something insightful about the Traveler culture, and perhaps about masculinity or warmongering at its most basic.

In The Guard (2011)–  a very Irish take on the buddy cop movie – a dream cast anchored by the ever-reliable Brendan Gleeson wryly articulates a tale of underestimation and police corruption. Gleeson is a joy to behold. His dry wit and take-me-as-I-am approach produce a world class curmudgeon, to which the also excellent (as always) Don Cheadle plays a perfect foil. Truth be told, the story is a bit of an afterthought. The Guard is a celebration of tart Irish humor and character; the actual plot merely provides the playground for the fun.

Leprechaun (1993) Almost forgot about death by Leprechaun! As trivia buffs know, this is Jennifer Aniston’s film debut.

Rudy (1993) Okay, fine, here’s Rudy. This is the film debut of Vince Vaughn, who co-starred with Aniston in..what movie?

The Break-Up, correct! Now do a shot of Jameson, smartypants!

Hope Madden and George Wolf … get it?