“Oh look, I’ve got a little piece of dignity under my nail. Must’ve scratched it off someone in a cat fight.”
Rating: 8 out of 10
There are many stories in our sordid and sorry history that deserve reverence and a delicate hand when talked about. They should all be told, absolutely, and hopefully learned from, but we must always remember that how the story is told can influence the listener almost as much as the story itself. It can be a tightrope walk along the line between pride and piety and you want to be careful which side it falls on.
The Help is set in Jackson, Mississippi during the central part of the civil rights movement. A young white woman named Skeeter wants to write something real, something special and she finds it in the socialized and institutionalized mistreatment of the African-American hired help. She ventures to gain their trust and their stories in a dangerous effort to give a voice to the silent underbelly of high Southern society.
This film has been #1 at the box office for three weeks and already is a huge success for the studios. It marches along each weekend as the little movie that could. Some will credit that to the original book already being a best-seller, but we’ve seen plenty of best-seller adaptations that fizzle sadly on the big screen. Even a well-told story needs excellent execution in order to swing a whole new audience and The Help is boiling over with just that.
Emma Stone, as the stubborn and righteous Skeeter, delivers her most dramatic turn to date and does not fail to impress. Yet the real power comes from the surrounding cast, packed with outstanding performances ranging from beautifully heart-wrenching to disgustingly evil. Starting with the two maids, shown with touching grace and power by Viola Davis (as Aibileen) and Octavia Spencer (as Minny), these wonderful actresses anchor the film in layers upon layers of honesty and courage. On the complete other side of the spectrum, Bryce Dallas Howard delivers a stunningly devious performance as Hilly Holbrook, the resident alpha Stepford wife, clinging to the old ways and old hatreds, fighting the oncoming social change with each of her pearly white teeth and perfectly french-tipped nails. Her quietly controlled rage reminded me constantly of Glenn Close as Cruella De Vil, such poise built around such poison. Jessica Chastain also did a splendid job as Celia Foote, trying desperately to get acceptance from anyone at all, even if it comes from her maid.
As director, Tate Taylor, tried to softly, but honestly, capture the time and place of 1960s Mississippi. There was tension throughout the movie, keeping the audience wondering when the violence of racism was going to strike, but Taylor always kept it just off screen, tempting the horror without needing to show it up close. He also crafted some wonderfully delicate scenes with the character of Celia, shedding light on yet another part of women’s history kept in the dark for far too long.
However, as I mentioned earlier, it is a delicate dance and this story can be seen from the angle of another “white person ends racism” story, but I feel that would be shortchanging the core of the story. Stone’s character doesn’t free the maids from servitude, she just gives them a voice, an outlet which was up to that point held far out of reach.
One of the few things I found unnecessary was Stone’s boyfriend Stuart (played by Chris Lowell). Stone feels much more natural and relatable as an gawky outcast, never fitting in with all her married high society friends. The need to show her swing back and forth in the world of troubled relationships just felt like a step too far.
The End of the Page recommendation: The Help is filled with touching moments, bound to bring smiles to faces and thoughts to minds.
When he learned all his sounds appeared in ghostly writing nearby, it made trips to the bathroom much more nerve wracking.
Rating: 10 out of 10
Could it really be possible? Could one movie company really release two movies in under two months deserving of my greatest accolade: a perfect score? I don’t give them out easily, many times feeling at least one little thing was out of place or lacking in the overall composition of the film, but almost in back-to-back form Universal Studios has made their mark on the summer with the release of one of the most anticipated comic book adaptations of the summer (at least by a small group of fanboys and fangirls).
Scott Pilgrim vs. The World brings to life the tale of an adorably square hipster/bass player named Scott Pilgrim. While trying to mend his broken heart and shake his unwelcomed status of ‘dump-ee’, he dreams about a punk-chic on roller blades and his world trips down the rabbit hole when he finds that the dream girl is real. Compelled to court her, he discovers that to win her companionship he must defeat in battle her seven evil Ex’s, each still equally enchanted and desperate for the love of this oddly endearing young girl.
While so many things came together in perfect harmony here, for the first time in a long while, first credit and top billing for the success needs to go to the man on top of the totem pole, director Edgar Wright. Erupting from the mind that brought us Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz (plus the equally amazing, but woefully less well-known, Spaced), Scott Pilgrim displays the same skill and amazing amounts of research into the genre, which helped transform his earlier efforts into trophy case pieces of what makes a great film. So many tiny moments, pixelated pop-ups and even audio reminders of the original Nintendo generation helped shape the universe of Pilgrim into one we not only believed in, but recognized from our youth. The tone, the atmosphere, even the overly romanticized quest, it all hearkens back to the roots of comic book caricature mixed with action hero devotion. Without diving into too much more detail and turning this into a novella of wonderment about Wright and his talents, I will just say that as the captain of this ship, he steered brilliantly and I would very much like to see him awarded for it, even if that seems unlikely (although with a 10 movie Best Picture category, it’s not impossible).
Moving on to those lucky souls who got to inhabit these wonderful characters, it is a pantheon of young Hollywood elite who earn each and every second of their on-screen glory. Michael Cera, once dangerously on the verge of over-exposure and being perennially typecast, has surged back with his touchingly awkward, yet awesomely heroic rendition of the lead, Scott Pilgrim. This time Cera really feels like he is fully in touch with his capabilities and embraces the geek charm which many were beginning to feel was holding him back and turning him into a cultural antique before its time. What was also great is no one would really find a fight scene with Michael Cera truly believable in a normal world, but the world of Scott Pilgrim is legions away from normal. Blending comic book candor, anime stylings and 8-bit video game action gave Cera a universe he could truly become the nerd warrior of our fantasies. As the woman of his quirky and vivid dreams, Mary Elizabeth Winstead delights as Ramona Flowers, creating one of those tragically cute girls all men want to win and make happy for the rest of their days. She also tiptoes down that tightrope between confidence and cowardice, showing humanity in its most simple and pure form. Peppering the outskirts of this incredibly creative world, much can be said about the co-stars and side characters. Amazing on all counts, they helped firm up the reality of the world by embracing their individual quirks and all playing in that same wonderful tone. A special mention needs to go out to Kieran Culkin, who played Pilgrim’s sexually voracious gay roommate. His darkly comic timing and constant calling of ‘bullsh*t’ to the rest of the characters helped keep the story from spiraling off into a cartoonish purgatory.
The End of the Page Recommendation: Anyone who owned the original Nintendo should love this film. This is made specifically for you. As for the rest of the world, there is heart and humor to be had, but it might get lost on you behind the screen of random quick edits and constant cultural in-jokes. It has not gotten its due in the box office, but I guarantee this will become a cult classic on the DVD market. I’m already dusting off a space on my shelf for it.
Posted 1 year, 5 months ago at 10:31 am. 1 comment
Trilogy? No one said anything to me about a trilogy?
Rating: 5 out of 10
There is a certain extra effort that has to be put in when adapting video games to the screen. You can’t just grab the plot from the original video game, because a large part of your audience will be completely bored. On top of that, you run the risk of them beating the game in a much more efficient way than the movie plays out. Yet, you have to keep certain elements, mainly the origin story of your main character, which then creates particular boundaries on where the story can unravel. As I mentioned recently, this can go very bad (ala Super Mario Brothers), but the original Mortal Kombat proved delightfully entertaining, even with the odd novelty of Christopher Lambert as Raiden (Really? Who cast that?). The adaptations have been getting increasingly high concept and high budget as the games themselves break new ground for imagination and technology, which leads us to this weekend’s entrant into the genre, straight from the gates of the fabled Mouse House, Disney.
Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time grabs the main character from the original game and sets him on a quest to not only clear his name for a murder he did not commit, but also uncover the magic behind a mystical dagger which can reverse time for those lucky enough to possess it. Enemies surround our hero, some lusting for the power of the dagger, while others are more honed to collect the large ransom on his head and he finds himself with the most unlikely of allies, a beautiful princess of the kingdom he just helped overthrow.
Prince of Persia is entering a void left open by the downfall of the Mummy franchise, the critically abysmal last chapter of Indiana Jones and the mostly forgotten (or consciously blocked out) attempt to begin the Dirk Pitt domination of summertime adventure with Sahara. A good desert-filled action movie always has a dollar to be earned in the blockbuster summertime season. Maybe it’s the abundance of bright, hot sunshine in the locations, or possibly the presence of sweaty, well-toned actors and actresses in every other shot. Whatever the reasons may be, historical or present day action films set in the outlands of the desert have a genre all to themselves and Prince of Persia is looking to take control of it. There is rumor another Indiana Jones could be in the works (and why not since it made a ridiculous amount of money, who cares that it was terribly painful to watch), but Disney could most likely churn out one, maybe even two more chapters in this series before Indy crawls back to the screens. This summer there is nothing else being offered in this particular arena of actioneers, so the timing is quite well done.
Another big move inside this sand-blown story is the introduction of Jake Gyllenhaal as a viable action hero. While he has shown the ability to buff up his physical presence, in films like Jarhead and Brothers, and handle leading a film with major studio money behind it, like The Day After Tomorrow, all of those had him more focused on his intelligence and humanity than his stuntwork or bravado. Prince of Persia shows off a new side to Gyllenhaal, one audiences once had a chance of seeing years back when rumors floated around about him being cast over Tobey Maguire in Spider-Man (looking back at Spider-Man 3, maybe it was a good thing Gyllenhaal missed being caught up in that web). He very much holds his own here and continues to display his boyish charms, which won him such approval all the way back in October Sky, but now adds this new element of mischievous muscle. When not declaring his purity of character on screen, he spends his time flirting, either with danger or with his coquettish co-star, Gemma Arterton. That combination makes him interesting enough to hold audience attention in between the various action scenes.
But that is where things end in the positive realm of Prince of Persia. While slow motion can be used to exciting effect in some films, this one was wildly addicted to stopping time, not only in the fictional world, but also on screen, mostly whenever Gyllenhaal’s feet left the ground in any type of flip or diving motion. There were also areas where the CGI was incredibly poor and stuck out painfully from the rest of the physical set. This in particular was a disappointment coming from Disney, which knows all too well how to mix CGI and reality (just go back and watch the original Pirates of the Caribbean). Yet, beyond all those things, the one thing which left me more saddened than all the others while I walked back to my car was the weak and unimaginative writing. I will always give credit to any writer for getting something through the system and onto the screen and there is always the possibility that the finished product relates very little to their original script, but Prince of Persia felt older than the desert temples they were filming. There is a fine line between using a previous piece of work as a structure or even in terms of an homage, but this film was a blatant rip-off in my mind of Shakespeare’s King Lear and Hamlet, with a touch of Disney’s own Aladdin thrown in (the opening sequence in Prince of Persia is a near live action remake of the beginning of the animated Aladdin, which means Disney ripped themselves off.) Everything here was too obvious from scene one and that dragged down much of the excitement brought about by the action sequences.
The End of the Page Recommendation: In worldwide gross, Prince of Persia is currently just squeaking by its production budget, so in the end this will be a success, so you can expect another one down the road, but you might see a slightly smaller one, and if that means no Gyllenhaal, it will probably mean direct to DVD. As for this one, a decent summertime afternoon show, but save it for the couch instead of the theater.
Posted 1 year, 7 months ago at 12:13 pm. 2 comments
It’s OK. Relax, boy. They said ‘The Hills’ is being canceled.
Rating: 7 out of 10
In the last decade we have been increasingly spoiled by legendary quality in the animated film world. Pixar exploded onto the scene and suddenly changed our Sunday afternoon trip to the movies with our little ones from a chore to a joy. Parents all over the country were now dragging kids along to see cartoons the kids hadn’t even asked about yet. “Trust me, son. You haven’t seen Toy Story 1 or 2 yet, but you’ll pick it up quickly. Now stop running around or we’ll lose our place in line.” Those wonderment wizards behind the screen also took notice of the change in demographic and began to layer their fare with subtle and intelligent adult humor, making it possible (and now possibly common) to see a grown man or adult couple walking into one of these movies without a single child in tow. I applaud this shift in content because I believe it helps remind us all to be a kid ourselves time and again.
How to Train Your Dragon is the newest effort from Dreamworks Animation, the studio once saved from going under by their imaginary friend Shrek. This tale, based on a popular children’s book of the same title by Cressida Cowell, surrounds a scrawny, accident-ridden viking named Hiccup (voiced expertly by Jay Baruchel) who stumbles upon a legendary dragon that no one has laid eyes on and lived. Finding he doesn’t have the heart to kill the dragon, he becomes the proud owner of a dangerous new pet and a planet-sized secret. Oh, his dad is chief of the village as well and their main chore in life is killing dragons. It’s like sprinkles on top.
While this colorful concoction doesn’t match up with headliners like Shrek, Kung-Fu Panda and Monsters vs. Aliens, it provides enough chuckles and consistent story flow to find itself placed above other Dreamworks outings like Flushed Away, Over the Hedge and Shark Tale. The main character of Hiccup is endearing in his self-deprecation and feels perfectly suited to the delivery of Baruchel. Also, if the animation studios have learned anything, it is to make any animal or magically living item into the most adorable thing imaginable. Dreamworks went for the gold here with their rendering of the dragon we all come to know as Toothless. They instilled him with a number of feline qualities, making him instantly loved by all cat owners in the crowd. They also have perfected the shifting of eye sizes (small for suspicion and huge for sugary-sweet cuteness) to the point where it almost feels like manipulation. I could have railed against being used like that, but I had already melted into my seat and mixed into the popcorn box below.
Other voice talents that held up their ends are Gerard Butler as Hiccup’s overly heroic Dad, Stoick, America Ferrera as the young competitor/love interest named Astrid, Jonah Hill as Snotlout (who to me sounded and looked on screen a lot like Jack Black), Kristen Wiig as Ruffnut, one half of a brother/sister twin pairing, and lastly Christopher Mintz-Plasse as the role-playiing stats nerd, Fishlegs.
The End of the Page Recommendation: How to Train Your Dragon provides enough chuckles to make it worthwhile, but the big screen is not totally necessary. Matinee pricing should be a safe bet. Oh, 2D is fine as well (skip shelling out the extra cash for 3D on this outing).
Posted 1 year, 10 months ago at 2:36 pm. 2 comments
My eyes are shut. Please, please tell me when the crazed fans are gone.
Rating: 2 out of 10
There is not a person in the world who hasn’t heard the rags to riches story of J.K. Rowling and the legendary Harry Potter series of books. Those books, of course, led us to the movie franchise, which has generated so far over a billion dollars with three more movies to go (one for book six, while book seven will be split into two pieces). Yet as quickly as one legend is chiseled into stone, another one comes along, shaking the pedestal to knock down the reigning champion. Stephanie Meyer wrote the first book in her Twilight saga only 3 years ago and she is already hot on the trail of Harry Potter’s coffers. With the release of the fourth book, Breaking Dawn, the series as a whole has sold over 17 million copies and been translated into 20 different languages. So, with the literary world groveling at the feet of the Twilight series, begging for more, it was inevitable the movie world would come knocking. Does such a massive fan base guarantee success for the feature film adaptation?
Financially it always helps, but critically it doesn’t mean a thing. With an opening weekend of over $70 million dollars, Twilight is already a blockbuster and I’m guessing will finish up somewhere in the $400 million dollar range. This will mainly be due to the hordes of tween girls who will go see this repeatedly, like they did with Titanic, driving the box office receipts way past any critical value. Once you look beyond the dollar signs and the pre-pubescent obsession, the reality is this movie is barely watchable.
From the very beginning of the film it is terribly paced, trying to drain each and every sigh and wistful gaze from the moments on screen, which causes it to take over an hour to get to anywhere the least bit interesting. Finally, when that moment comes, it is over incredibly fast and done with such broad, clumsy strokes that banging your head against the chair in front of you begins to seem like a viable option to make yourself feel better. The whole thing drips with teenage melodrama, admittedly perfect for their direct audience, but to make a truly successful film it has to play to more than just a fraction of the populace. I’ve never had a problem appreciating a good movie, whether I was the correct demographic or not (look back on my review of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 if you need proof). The fact remains Twilight drags itself from scene to scene, on top of being badly performed. This is a shame to be added to the resume of normally skilled director Catherine Hardwicke, who I have personally raved to many people about her previous films, Thirteen and Lords of Dogtown.
Rob Pattinson, who plays Edward Cullen, the lovelorn vampire, has already ascended to fill the void left by Orlando Bloom from his Lord of the Rings days, but he has far from grasped what it takes to be an on-screen heartthrob. There is an art to the longing gaze, an inherent skill to the penetrating looks across the room, neither of which he possesses. He ends up coming off more like a borderline sociopath who might be suffering from any number of vitamin deficiencies. He also proves numerous times that opening your eyes incredibly wide doesn’t always emote intensity, some times it just comes off looking like you’re in pain. There are rare occasions when the lead actor can be propped up by the performance of his co-star, but this is not one of those times. Kristen Stewart, taking on the role of the lovestruck Bella, who although powerfully cute and physically perfect for the role, plays way too much with the awkwardness of meeting a boy you like before taking an enormous leap into the deepest love in the world. There is virtually no arc for her romanticism, it just appears instantaneously and is never doubted by either side. Also, without giving away any spoilers, there is something special about her character which draws her to her new vampire boyfriend, but yet again it is never explained or even explored. For the next film, which has already been signed and contracted, it would behoove whichever director it might be to watch Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist to see the correct way how to show two incredibly awkward teenagers fall in love without making the audience want to gouge out their own eyes. The painful and repetitive scenes between Rob and Kristen completely washed away James Van Der Beek and Katie Holmes from Dawson’s Creek, America’s previous winners for “Most Time Taken by a Fictional Couple to Just Get the Hell on with It!”
Not having read the book, and I pray it is better than the adaptation, there are also a number of things changed or altered from the vampire mythos. I’m all for new storytellers taking creative license and trying to make something traditional into their own, but the changes made here just ripped out the heart and soul of these maligned and tragic characters. From their over-romanticized reaction to direct sunlight to the absence of a single pairs of fangs in the film, all the creative team of Twilight succeeded in doing is making these characters the weakest and most pathetic vampires in movie history. I would make a comment about Buffy being able to take care of these poor specimens, but I honestly don’t think she would bother. She’d probably send Xander.
It was glaringly obvious that the movie was made with only one group in mind, the 12-14 year old girls, and if you were not a member of this group, you honestly didn’t matter. This tactic might make for a financially successful film, but the franchise will begin to suffer once its audience grows up between films and they start to be able to do more than just gape at a mysteriously gaunt boy on the big screen. My only hope is the studio learns from the Harry Potter series, which has gotten better and better as the films have gone on and they continue to satisfy the young fans of the books along with their parents and older siblings.
Recommendation: If your hair isn’t currently in pigtails, move along.
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Posted 3 years, 2 months ago at 9:14 am. 1 comment
I’m sure there’s a joke out there somewhere to make about a movie with themes like this, but I’m not going there. So phbbbtttt…
Nothing sets the mood like walking into a movie already brimming with controversy before it ever hits a single silver screen. So it was with the new storytime vision of Alan Ball, writer of American Beauty and creator of Six Feet Under. With those two titles under your belt, every audience member knows they are in for something darkly humorous, unusually frank and powerfully uncomfortable. Once again, Alan Ball did not disappoint on any count.
Towelhead is the story of Jasira, a young thirteen year old girl reaching the inevitable point in her life where changes occur in her body and her surroundings, but none of the adults around her represent anything close to a good role model. Without proper guidance Jasira stumbles tragically into puberty and has to fight off racism, sexism and the primal urges of others as well as her own. Nothing makes sense to her anymore and a new fight emerges when someone actually tries to care for her and make her recognize right from wrong.
This film penetrates through layer upon layer of social taboo and almost dares the audience to flinch, maybe even leave if they can’t handle it. The depths of humiliation and abuse Jasira sinks into are troubling to say the least, but there does seem to be a method to the madness behind the scenes. The story does attempt to say something important about young children, especially girls, who are victimized. Too many times once a tragedy has occured in a young girl’s life, she is forever treated like a victim and never expected to fully return to a normal, well balanced life, but Alan Ball strove to show a different possibility. He created a world where Jasira suffers terrible act upon terrible act, but continues her fight for understanding and once she does fully come to grips with what is happening to her, it becomes a fight to take back control of her own life. Also brought to bear upon the social mindset is the dispicable parenting that takes place. Jasira is an all too common example of divorced parents using their child as a weapon against each other and losing all recognition of the small impressionable person in between. It’s not to say what happens in Towelhead happens to every child, I surely hope not, but the allusions drawn here are far from unheard of.
The thematics will feel somewhat familiar to those in touch with Ball’s previous works, but he claims to have not noticed that until after filming was already done. Also part of the excuse is Ball didn’t write the story, he adapted the script from the novel of the same name by Alicia Erian, a middle eastern woman herself. Together, Alicia and Alan both defended the use of the title Towelhead in the face of protests from American Muslim groups across the nation. It’s a gray area to be sure. Alicia and Alan actually changed the name to Nothing is Private before they screened at Cannes because they were so afraid of the reaction (and it’s still listed on IMDB under that title), but after the film was sold, the studio actually asked for them to change it back. Everyone involved seemed to feel the inherent racism in the title and the shocking nature of it was integral to the story they were trying to tell. Opposers feel it is sensationalist and only helps further the use of such a deroggatory term. In my opinion, it’s a tough sell to try and make them change it since it gets embroiled in a censorship vs. artistry dispute, but I do see a double standard in our country where this movie can get released and supported, but Nas is forced to change the name of his last album away from N****r for exactly the same reasons. I think that proves the point that we may have come a long way in the fight against racism, but it’s only against some cultures, not all.
OK, off my political soapbox, back to the movie. Like I expected, Towelhead is incredibly well done, but equally uncomfortable. Numerous times I shifted around in my seat because there was no way to watch the screen and feel at ease with what I was being shown. Alan made this effect possible with strong unapologetic writing and brilliant casting. Summer Bishil takes on the impressive and heavy role of Jasira and delivers a stunning performace, which for her is nearly a debut (she’d done some children’s TV movies before, but nothing of this level or caliber). Her nievete in acting only helped to make Jasira more innocent on screen, creating even more torment when that innocence is threatened. It was a inceredibly brave role to play and I would not be surprised if her name is mentioned around Oscar time. Aaron Eckhart once again proves he can play any kind of next door neighbor, the one you invite over and cook hot dogs with or the one you make sure you lock the side doors against. This time he plays the more devious and dispicable of the two and his commitment to the role was impressive and frightening to say the least. Playing the role of Jasira’s father, Peter Macdissi had an entirely new road to travel as a man ill equipped for fatherhood in America during this day and age, while also fighting off racism both against him and from him. My feelings towards his character were very close to those of Greg Kinnear in Little Miss Sunshine. Both were paternal characters who were incredibly easy to hate, but when the film tries to redeem them at the end, it feels like too little too late. I will say in Towelhead, Peter’s character makes a stronger turn in the third act, but so much animosity is built up by then, it’s hard for an audience to empathize. Trying to save adults everyone from being portrayed as completely inept is Toni Collette. She plays a pregnant neighbor on the other side who begins to see terrible possibilities open in front of her and does her best to protect and shelter the young girl, sometimes even from Jasira herself. It was a nice touch to make the character pregnant since it added an extra level of worry and panic over whether something like this could happen to her own incoming child.
Recommendation: This is not a sunny afternoon matinee and certainly, positively not a date movie. But, if you are a fan of good, powerful and emotional filmmaking, strap yourself in because this is a heavy ride. See it in the theater for that extra added power, since it won’t be so easy to pause or change the channel.
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Posted 3 years, 5 months ago at 9:58 pm. Add a comment
by Luke Goldstein
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