Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie


The H-Bomb:  In case the title is not enough of an indicator, the American Pie gang is back, descending on their home town of Great Falls for their thirteen year high school reunion
 why thirteen?  Because no one from their school bothered to organize a ten year reunion (that’s literally what we’re told).  So what has everyone been up to since American Wedding?  Well, Oz (Chris Klein) is now a big shot sportscaster and a former “Dancing with the Stars” contestant.  Kevin (Thomas Ian Nicholas) is now a happily married housewife.  Finch (Eddie Kaye Thomas) has turned himself into a regular Renaissance Man, traveling the world to experience many exotic cultures firsthand.  Stifler (Seann William Scott) is slaving away in a demeaning job as an office temp and is just as big an asshole as ever.

As for Jim (Jason Biggs), he is still married to ex-band geek Michelle (Alyson Hannigan), and they now have a two year old son as well as some
 intimacy issues.  They realize that their sex life is not as healthy as it should be when they both experience a bad case of Masturbatus Interuptis during the opening scene.  This of course, is the first of many sexually humiliating situations that Jim will find himself in, which have been a staple of this series.  In one of these scenarios, we even get to see Jim’s manhood, which has been the victim of much abuse over the course of four movies.  In addition to all this, he is still getting unwanted sex advice from his well intentioned Dad (Eugene Levy), who is now a widower.

Jim’s friends have it a little easier, as both Oz and Kevin have to deal with seeing their old high school sweethearts, Heather (Mena Suvari) and Vicky (Tara Reid), for the first time in years.  Some half-baked drama ensues from this, but not many laughs.  Finch seems to finally be over Stifler’s Mom (Jennifer Coolidge), and has taken a liking to a hot bartender who happens to be a fellow classmate.  Stifler has never quite moved on from high school and just wants to party like it’s 1999 (literally).

I really love the original American Pie.  It was raunchy as hell, but it was also genuinely funny, with real heart behind it, and strong characters who, despite being sex obsessed, were very likeable and relatable.  Then came American Pie 2, which I didn’t like at all.  The raunch was there, but the charm was gone, as were the laughs.  American Wedding followed, and while it was a definite improvement over the second movie, it didn’t even come close to touching the original.

Now we have, whether we wanted it or not, American Reunion, arriving some nine years after the last one (I don’t count the slew of straight to DVD “sequels” in between).  This movie reminds me a lot of Scre4m, which came out a year ago this month.  Both came after their franchises had been dormant for a decade, both try to milk their brand names for all their worth, both attempt to recapture, with a hint of desperation, the magic that made their originals so great
  and both are pretty underwhelming.

While I found American Reunion watchable, curiously enough I didn’t laugh out loud once, though I did smile a number times, mainly from the antics of Stifler and Jim’s Dad; the party scenes where they drink and spend quality time together are the best in the movie.  Everything else involving the rest of the cast is pretty limp.  Kevin is worried about cheating on his wife with Vicky, Oz finds he still has feelings for Heather, even though he’s dating a supermodel.  All this drama just didn’t interest me, and the film just got boring during these parts.

Even the eccentric Finch, who has always been my favorite character in this series, is just kind of dull here.  The movie seems to put all it’s comedic chips into Stifler’s mugging and Jim’s sexual mishaps, which just aren’t enough.  None of them are as memorable as the pie fucking from the first movie, and they just reek of too much effort, like, again, showing Jim’s dick on camera, or putting him in a gimp outfit.  One sequence has Jim trying to sneak the girl he used to baby sit for, who is drunk and naked, back into her house without her parents noticing.  This girl conveniently just turned eighteen that night, so we don’t have to feel creepy about looking at her, but we do anyway.  It’s a sequence that goes on too long and isn’t all that funny, the same could be said for the whole film.  For the most part, the raunchiness seems toned down from the outrageousness of the past movies, and not for the better.

On the plus side, just about everyone is back, even the ones who missed Jim’s wedding.  It’s nice seeing all these people again, even those who only pop in for a scene or two.  Shannon Elizabeth gets to use her laughably awful Russian accent again, and John Cho shows up from time to time as the Asian MILF Guy, though now he’s apparently gay, without any rhyme or reason or explanation whatsoever.  Seeing all these people in the same movie again do give me a sense of nostalgia, kind of like the one I got while watching Scre4m.

Nostalgia, sadly, is basically all American Reunion has to offer.  No real laughs, no interesting updates on the characters, just trading on the fond memories of the original.  I used to hate Stifler, but this time he, along with Jim’s Dad, are the only ones keeping this overlong, badly paced party from turning into a total bore.  Even the songs on the soundtrack try to remind us of that earlier, better film.  If anything, that’s the one thing that American Reunion succeeded in doing, making me want to revisit the original, and that is exactly what I suggest you do.  This is one Reunion you can miss.

I’m afraid more rum was needed.

The H-Bomb:  I must confess off the bat that I’ve never read anything by Hunter S. Thompson, and my only real exposure to him was from Terry Gilliam’s bat shit crazy adaptation of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which I do kind of like, but ultimately just got too obnoxiously bonkers for me to really, fully embrace.  That’s why the trailers for “The Rum Diary” looked promising.  It looked as though we were going to get another glimpse into Thompson’s very unique mind, only this time in a toned down, more palatable way.

Sadly, screenwriter/director Bruce Robinson toned things down to the point where any interest or fun to be had was just evaporated.  It was like “Fear and Loathing”, except instead of tripping on Acid, it was bombed into a complete stupor of Quaaludes and Valium, so much so that all it can do is slog along from one dramatically indifferent scene to another at a leaden pace.  That is The Rum Diary, Fear and Loathing gone dull.  There is a plot, things do happen, but there is absolutely zero dramatic tension.  There’s no sense of urgency or importance, nothing to hook us in or make us invested in what’s happening.  It’s like watching the movie drunk: we see what’s happening, but we’re only watching passively, and we’re completely detached from it all.

It’s starts out promisingly enough, with Johnny Depp once again stepping into the role of Thompson’s surrogate, this time named Paul Kemp.  The story is set in Puerto Rico in 1960, with boozy writer Kemp arriving fresh from the States to work as a reporter for some local rag that is slowly going the way of the Dodo.  Kemp is serious about being a journalist and wants to tackle important stories, but his cynical, toupee-topped editor (Richard Jenkins) just wants him to write fluff about fat American tourists at bowling alleys.   Kemp isn’t particularly happy about this, but just keep the rum flowing, and he’ll be fine (hey, sounds like me).

Eventually, he crosses paths with wealthy douche bag Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart), who, we eventually find out, wants Kemp to write promotional pieces for an island resort that he’s trying to interest investors in.  Kemp becomes involved with Sanderson’s beautiful girlfriend, Chennault (Amber Heard), and soon discovers what a shady guy Sanderson really is.  It’s then that Kemp sets about finding a way to bring him down, with the power of the printed word.  All the while, the unfocused narrative sends Kemp on a series of misadventures with fellow alcoholic writers Moberg (Giovanni Ribisi) and Sala (Michael Rispoli).  These include scary altercations with gringo hating locals and accidentally setting a cop on fire.  Sometimes the antics rise to the level of mildly amusing, but never beyond that, and not often enough.

And again, that‘s the dang problem. The Rum Diary is the most bewilderingly boring film I have ever seen.  Overall it’s about Thompson discovering his voice as a writer, and that certainly had the potential to be a fascinating story, but the execution is just so Goddamn blasĂ© that it‘s actually frustrating to think about what a squandered opportunity this movie is.  The actors do try, with Depp back in the Thompson role.  Only this time, instead of playing zany, drugged out Thompson, he’s playing restrained, drunk Thompson.  His performance is very understated, and sadly, that only adds to the film’s lack of dramatic oomph.

Eckhart is perfectly cast as the sleazy, rich slime ball, but the movie didn’t make me care enough to hate him.  Ribisi and Jenkins actually are funny as the more lively and eccentric characters in the piece, but they couldn’t salvage it.  Heard is not bad to look at, but writing wise, her role is terminally malnourished.  Here, she is eye candy, and nothing more.

This is a project that Depp, who also produced, had been nurturing for a long, long time, at least a decade, and I really wish the end result would have been more worth his while.  I wish it had been more worth my while, as well.  Gilliam’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas was certainly not a perfect film, but it was also certainly never boring for a second, either.  The Rum Diary just runs on the same flat tempo all the way through to its utterly “so what” ending.  It’s not funny enough to keep me entertained, as comedy-wise, all the best bits are in the trailer.  The limp attempts at drama are not engaging enough to make me care, and all I was left with at the end were two hours that I wished I had back.

Just let this sleeping dog lie.

The H-Bomb: Young, dull newlyweds David (James Marsden) and Amy (Kate Bosworth) move from L.A. to the small southern town where Amy grew up. David is a screenwriter, and he hopes that the peace and quiet of their isolated farm house will be the perfect place to work on his script. Unfortunately for him, the local hillbillies they hired to fix up the barn roof have other ideas. It’s bad enough that David is an outsider and a city boy with a condescending, intellectual air to him, but the fact that he hired Charlie (Alexander Skarsgard), Amy’s old high school beau, to work on the roof only makes matters worse. See, Charlie still has an eye for Amy, and he doesn’t much care for her running off and marrying this nerdy little Joe Hollywood douche bag, so… I think you can guess where this is going.

Charlie and his buddies’ taunts start out as minor annoyances; showing up to work at the crack of dawn with their shit-kicker music blasting, walking into David’s house uninvited and just helping themselves to whatever’s in his fridge, cutting out at midday to go hunting, so on and so forth. Being that David is a product of the Left Coast and a very principled pacifist (so he tells us), he is willing to turn the other cheek and try not to let it get to him.

But Charlie’s antics soon escalate and become more hostile and dangerous; David is run off the road by their truck, pet cats turn up dead (why does that sound familiar), and eventually a vicious assault takes place. If David and Amy had even an iota of common sense, they would just cut their losses and leave, but David isn’t about to be driven out of his home, and he now has a lot of manning up to do before the inevitable violent showdown.

You’d think after the dismal failure that was the “The Getaway” remake, that Hollywood would know better than to redo Sam Peckinpah, the guns n’ booze auteur who had an arresting, kick-to-the-dick style that no one could ever replicate, but that didn’t stop them from trying. This time, they tried doing it with “Straw Dogs”, his 1971 film about a non-violent man pushed to the breaking point. It was mucho controversial when released, but it’s kind of tame by today’s standards.

For this remake, the setting has been changed from rural England to the rural U.S., and the main character’s profession has been switched, inconsequentially, from mathematician to screenwriter, but everything else follows the plot of the original to the letter. The result is a banal, quasi-boring film which adds nothing new to the story thematically, and ultimately has no reason whatsoever to exist. The graphic violence of the Peckinpah film is retained, including the infamous use of a bear trap, but the potency is gone.

Writer/Director Rod Lurie (“The Contender”, a putrid film) also didn’t do himself any favors by making all the small town folk a bunch of tobaccy chewin’, beer swilling, narrow minded primates who enjoy bullying and tormenting outsiders when they’re not too busy fucking their own relatives. It’s the kind of lame, clichĂ©d small town stereotype that could only have been written by some snotty writer who has never actually been to a small town in his life.

I also love how Lurie has his protagonists say and do the most stupid, illogical things imaginable simply because the plot needs them to, like having the atheist David wax philosophical about religion with Charlie by calling God a “bully,” or having him say shit like, “I’m a writer, that means I work for a living” to a blue collar guy who actually does work for a living. Jesus, a fucking first grader would know better.

But the real kicker, the one that truly insults the intelligence, is what Lurie has Amy do after she catches Charlie and his slobbering goons eyeballing her; she opens her bedroom window and strips naked in front of them. Seriously, is this chick retarded?! What was she thinking? Can she even think? Does she even have a brain? Apparently, Lurie forgot to give her one.

Lurie also forgot to fix the one aspect of the 1971 film that, at least I think, doesn’t work, the reason for the final confrontation. It doesn’t come about from the simmering hatred that builds between David and Charlie, but from a subplot about the town retard who likes to touch children. It bothered me in the Peckinpah version, and it only added to my list of reasons to dislike the Lurie version.

Moving on to the performances, it’s a mixed bag. Marsden and Bosworth are reunited from “Superman Returns” and display the exact same lack of chemistry that they had in that film. They are both big zeros, and it should be noted that James Marsden is no Dustin Hoffman. Skarsgard (son of Stellan) is actually quite menacing and subtle as Charlie. His performance is one of the movie’s few virtues, and for a Swede, he made a pretty convincing redneck. James Woods is fun to watch as the alcoholic ex-high school football coach who also makes trouble for David and Amy. The only problem I had with him was that I didn’t believe for a second that he could actually intimidate an entire barroom full of good ol’ boys the way he does here.

(H-Man Parenthetical: I just remembered that Woods was also in “The Getaway” remake, as well. Weird.)

After all is said and done, this new “Straw Dogs” isn’t a terrible movie, it’s just a terribly pointless one. There’s nothing in here that Peckinpah didn’t already do better in his original film some forty years ago, and there is just no reason for this watered down, dumbed down version to have been made at all. If you must see “Straw Dogs”, do yourself a huge favor and watch the original, and give this future piece of K-Mart bargain bin fodder a pass.

The lifeless ‘circus’ 

Swift shot: Boring, Boring, Boring, Spy.  I had just one expectation for this film . . . to be less dull and uninspired than “The Good Shepherd”, and it was actually worse!  Everyone knows that US Intelligence is by far more sexy than the stuffy Brits, so I anticipated a lot of pensive thinking and intrigue in this film, but I thought The Good Shepherd’s poor reception by critics, essentially would set the ground work for a more imaginative script.  They blew it!  Of course, without fail, Oldman becomes his character, George Smiley, but I just didn’t know enough about any of the characters, including Smiley, to give a Tinker’s damn about them.  With such an impressive cast, shame on the writers for not giving them much with which to work.

I am no fan of torture, with some exceptions, and especially not when I am the one being tortured!  And, I willingly allowed the film-makers to torture me for over two hours, ok, I will give them about 20 minutes of film-time that didn’t suck and was even brilliant in fact, but when the majority of scenes are free of dialog and driven by sympathetic introspection, not to mention tediously boring, well, that is about how I define torture.

Set in 1972-73, Control (John Hurt) has gained wind of a possible mole within the circus (AKA, the leading echelon of British Secret Intelligence) and the only person on his payroll whom he can trust, Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) is sent to Hungary for a meeting with one of his assets to help identify the villainous traitor.  But, as Control slips off to death, which is handled in such a bizarre, did you catch that fashion, that I almost didn’t catch it, so I am doing you the courtesy of providing that exposition free of charge.  Anyway, Control dies and a new Control assumes the position, and his greatest desire is to bring the Yanks on board to share intelligence.  Apparently, at some point in time, (at least it was implied) the Yanks found British Intelligence suspect and a “leaky ship” so the Americans have been avoiding sharing, well anything significant, with their British friends. 

Control manages to bring his trusted compatriot and former member of the circus, George Smiley into the hunt for the mole, all the while a mysterious figure from the circus’ past, a double-agent, code-named Karla is somehow involved and is believed to be the puppet-master of the mole.  George recruits the stalwart Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch) who risks career, and more, to discover if there is a mole within the circus.  Personally, I thought Cumberbatch stole the whole film, because I actually believed he was his character, he and Tom Hardy, as his ‘scalp-hunter’ Ricky Tarr were the most interesting characters in the film.

Mark Strong gives a great performance as Jim Prideaux, but again, I am only guessing what his character is really all about, because the story-tellers leave so much left to the imagination that it becomes downright annoying and even condescending at times.  I understand that the action and violence was used very little to ratchet up the effect when it finally happens, I get that, but just because you don’t want to oversaturate the film with violence and action, doesn’t excuse you from using other tools at your disposal . . . say an amazing cast who could put out some excellent dialog work and build these characters!  Shame, shame, for shame!

A lot of the story-telling is left for you to guess at, which I can appreciate to a point, but when half of the audience is comatose or snoring that says a lot.  I am in favor of using my imagination, and in some cases that is preferred, but not the whole bloody film!  The story was told as if it were a true story and the film-maker was afraid to reveal anything solid about any of the characters for fear of exposing them to the enemy.  Newsflash, we are an audience, we want to be entertained, we want to know about these characters so when anything compelling happens to them we will care.  The only time I excuse that is in a balls-to-the-walls action flick, which this was so incredibly . . . not.

Look, some critics are going to say, it dazzled me with its subtlety, it was so underwhelming that it was overwhelming, to which I say, and THAT is why you are a “critic” and I am not; I am a movie lover.  I did not love this movie, in fact I couldn’t wait to get home and share with my thousands of followers and friends how much I did not like this movie.

At best this is one you should watch alone, at home, when you have some time to dissect it and not be distracted by your friends falling asleep.  It was the most un-thrilling thriller I have ever seen, even less so than “The Good Shepherd”, which is really saying something.  With this award-winning cast: Colin Firth; Gary Oldman; John Hurt; Ciaran Hinds; Mark Strong, and even Tom Hardy, I challenge you to tell me anything significant about their characters after seeing this film.  You can’t, because you never actually learn anything real about them . . . some things are revealed, but nothing of merit.  So, why would you care what happens to any of them, it’s just a story, and a poorly told story at that!

“Happiness”, Where are you? – Oh, you are RIGHT HERE!!!

The H-Bomb: There are very few films that I can think of that left an impression on me the way Todd Solondz’s “Happiness” did back when I first saw it many years ago. With its assortment of freakish, malcontent misanthropes, some with more issues than others, it was a funny, disgusting, shocking, and poignant experience unlike any other. It went into dark, taboo places that few films dared, yet somehow managed to be highly entertaining despite that. The scene where the young boy asks his pedophile father if he would ever molest him is unforgettable, and the father’s answer to that question is a whole new kind of fucked up.

As far as I’m concerned, “Happiness” is Solondz’s finest hour as a filmmaker and an absolute masterpiece
 and it absolutely did not need a sequel. But alas, we got one, from Mr. Solondz himself. The fact that Solondz was the one resurrecting these characters did give me some hope… though unfortunately, hope is a four letter word, and frankly, he really should have left well enough alone.

Like its predecessor, “Life During Wartime” centers around three sisters; depressed dreamer Joy (Shirley Henderson), insecure writer Helen (Ally Sheedy), prim ‘n proper suburban mom Trish (Allison Janney), and the various oddballs in their orbit. Joy is now married to Allen (Michael Kenneth Williams), the obscene calling fetishist who continues to struggle with his
 problem(s). Joy still clings on to the vague dream of becoming a musician, but for the time being, she’s content with counseling ex-cons.

Trish, meanwhile, is living in Florida and dating Harvey (Michael Lerner), a nice, middle aged Jewish man. They bond over their inability to talk about their sex lives and their shared desire to be buried in Israel. Trish’s oldest son, Billy (Chris Marquette), is now in college, and still trying to cope with the fact that his dad once re-assured him that he would “only jerk off” to him. Her younger son, Timmy (Dylan Riley Snyder), is about to become a man in the Jewish sense (Solondz, for no particular reason, decided to amp up the “Jewishness” of this family this time around), and has no idea that his father, Bill (Ciaran Hinds), who he has been told is dead, is a pedophile. Except Bill is not dead. In actuality, he has just been released from prison, and is now trying to track down Billy, who he hasn’t seen since being incarcerated over a decade ago.

Helen is now in L.A. making a profitable but artistically unfulfilling living as a screenwriter. She’s about a million times more neurotic than in the last picture and still considers herself to be a no talent hack, but
 well, to be honest, her appearance in this film is relatively brief, and everything involving her is of little importance, so never mind.

What is important about “Life During Wartime”? Not a whole lot, really. In this part sequel, part rehash of “Happiness”, Solondz brings back a number of the major characters (all played by new actors) and basically seems to set them forth on the same journey of searching for
 um
 happiness. Only this time, that journey isn’t nearly as interesting. The ensemble of weirdo losers is on hand, as is the biting, satirical sense of humor, as well as the subversive themes. But while “Happiness” captivated me and made me care about these people, “Life During Wartime” failed to do either.

One problem “Life During Wartime” has is that in the first film, the characters seemed, for the most part, like actual people. This time, they act and sound like broadly drawn caricatures. The fucking pedophile aside, nobody comes across as anything even resembling a human being. If we heard real people saying some of the shit that the characters in this flick spew out, we’d be lining up to take turns smacking the stupid out of them. Seriously, would a mother really tell her twelve year old son how her new boyfriend makes her “wet” by rubbing her elbows? Give me a fuckin’ break!

Solondz’s ultimate theme for this piece, redemption, is muddled all to hell with pretentious crap like, “Should we forgive and forget? Or should we forgive but not forget? Or, should we not forgive but forget.” The fact that it’s the twelve year old Timmy farting this Philosophy 101 gibber-jabber out of his mouth makes it even more laughable. A couple of these attempts at redemption, such as the confrontation between pedo-dad and his son, or Joy being haunted by the ghost of her dead ex-boyfriend Andy (Pee Wee Herman), could have been effective had Solondz brought back the original actors to reprise these roles. But since all the faces are new, whatever weight or catharsis these scenes would have had is lost
 or at least considerably diminished.

The decision to recast all the roles was a calculated one by Solondz, operating under the logic that people change over time, sometimes to the point of becoming someone else entirely. I certainly get what Solondz was going for, I just don’t think it worked. With two notable exceptions, most of the cast members are downgrades from their counterparts in “Happiness”. As Joy, Henderson is far less appealing than Jane Adams. Instead of being sweet and soulful, she comes off as an obnoxious, spastic flake.

The straight laced housewife Trish was annoying before, but in the form of Janney, she is truly insufferable, and that she has the most screen-time is fatal to the film. As for Snyder, I know it’s not nice to pick on child actors, but Goddamn! Every time this little shit opened his mouth, I was praying he’d either be struck in the head by a stray bullet, or someone would drop a piano on him. Williams is okay as the prank calling masturbator, Allen, but he’s underused, and Philip Seymour Hoffman (the original Allen) he is not.

Hinds, a very solid thespian, is a perfectly capable sub for Dylan Baker as the ex-shrink/kiddie diddler, but for most of his scenes he’s skulking around, alone and silent, thus he’s under-utilized as well. Also, Baker looked like a regular, all-American dad, which is what made him so chilling. Hinds, on the other hand, is brooding and even a little scary looking, so he’s not as effective. Nevertheless, he gives the film its best performance.

Pee Wee Herman, stepping out of the Playhouse and into Jon Lovitz’s shoes, is also very good as the ghost of Andy, with the actor’s own personal history adding some shading to the character, which is a good thing, since the script sure as hell didn’t. Charlotte Rampling contributes a cameo as a bitter old woman who has a one night stand with Bill. She probably did a fine job, but I can’t really say for sure, because I couldn’t stop staring at that ugly mop on her head.

Overall, “Life During Wartime” is another example of a belated sequel that’s just completely gratuitous. Solondz brought back the old characters, but he couldn’t think of anyplace new to take them. This was made all the more apparent in the number of instances where he mirrored scenes from the original (the opening dinner date, Joy playing her guitar, a key suicide, among others). The whole redemption angle be damned, the story of these characters was finished in the excellent, stand alone movie that is “Happiness”, and “Life During Wartime” is about as pointless and unworthy a follow up as one can imagine. The power and resonance of “Happiness” are gone, and fans of that fantastic film are better off leaving this one unseen.

Every sin comes with a price

Swift shot: While not a professional feature film, there is a raw complexity that makes this one watchable, despite some mediocre acting and unbelievably pedestrian dialog.  Sarah Cooper and Javon Johnson were exceptional stand-outs in an otherwise amateur cast and production team.  Still, I was roommates with one of the supporting actors, so I can’t completely trash this.  And, truth be told, it will find harsher critics than I, but even the harshest critics will be able to find something praiseworthy . . . the stories.

Rendezvous is a film about three separate couples, meeting in hotel rooms for affairs of differing natures.  One couple is incredibly asexual, with hair, dialog, and delivery to match their mechanically mundane relationship. Carolyn (Lesley Warren) has arranged a special series of surprises for her apathetic partner, Scott (Dorian Alexis Santiago) who has an agenda of his own that is immediately apparent, if you pay attention to his body language.

The next couple is made up of a pair of thirty something lovers who it is evident have shared a sorted past, but for no apparent reason that is ever truly explained, wound up apart.  Devin (Javon Johnson) is a strong character, a loving father, a supportive husband and an almost genuinely like-able character, but his rendezvous tonight is not his lovely wife, it is his emotionally scarred, off and on again flame, Nicole (Sarah Cooper) who goes through a roller coaster ride of love, lust, shame, pride and guilt in one dramatic evening.

Finally, the third couple is a more common type of affair you might expect in this digital age.  It’s clear almost immediately that they met on a website promoting affairs and other sexual appetites for people looking to step out of the confinement of normalcy.  Thing is, being abnormal is so normal these days, that old fashioned types are now the freaks.  Still, Antonio (Joao Bounassar) and his web-mistress Candice (Stephanie Smeltzer) are all about fucking, and I use that word deliberately, because if fucking offends you, couple three is going to downright disgust you.  If their acting were any better, maybe it wouldn’t have been so vile watching them be dirty, dirty is an appropriate description of the whole film really, and Director/Writer/Producer Duane Dixon does a fine job of displaying the filth of each relationship in varying degrees of intensity.

Each couple is in for a rough night, and each starts out with high hopes of simply a magical evening – granted, they all have their own definition of what magic is; however ultimately it is about getting their rocks off.  But, as I mentioned in the tag line, they are sinners, and they all eventually pay for their sins.

What I really liked about Rendezvous was that I knew nothing about it, save that my buddy was in it, playing Tristan who adds an element to the film that takes it from melodramatic to dramatic . . . in more ways than one.  Sadly, he was under used by Duane Dixon, and yes, I am biased, but I also wouldn’t pull any punches if I thought my friend sucked.  He didn’t.  Still, getting back on point, I liked how the stories built into a crescendo of retribution.  I pretended that I was Satan, watching these little marionettes grind  into one another, trying to satiate some missing thing that would finally make them whole, as if sex alone would fill the void . . . all the while knowing that in the end, I would watch them all crumble in dark despair.

If the acting were better by the majority of the players, I could see giving this a few extra half stars, and if there wasn’t any Jazz music.  Hey, that is my opinion, take it or leave it, I am no fan of Jazz and leading with it made me feel like I was watching a bad Red Shoe Diaries at first.  But, if you can get past that first opening sequence, and you are a bit of a sadist, you may enjoy watching this morality play unfold.  Maybe you’ll even take something from it, because while they are all sinners, every one of them, yes, even Tristan has a reason for their actions that is grounded in personal sadness and despair.

Scott is driven by more than love or passion, his is a different kind of lust.  Carolyn just wants to be really loved, by anyone, even if it might be a lie.  Devin wants to prove that he is in control of everything, that he can balance his good and dark sides, all while trying to be heroic in his own mind.  Nicole wants to prove to herself that she matters, that she is worthy of Devin and her mother’s love.  Candice is ashamed that she has sexual desires that she could never explain to her straight-laced husband.  Antonio is driven by self-gratification and also wants to control both sides of his life, and even Tristan (Maurice Chevalier) has gone through life with a chip because he too can’t find acceptance from those he loves.

No matter; Satan sits laughing, loving their loss – and in the end, he is paid in full.

I missed my prom – wish I had missed this one too.

Swift shot: Look, I love Disney, but sometimes even they miss the mark, apart from a few brilliant one-liners and brief moments of comedy, I think anyone over 12 would skip this “Prom”. I wanted to like this more, but the production was rushed together and the acting was just not great all-around, which is something I wouldn’t expect from Disney to be quite frank, or maybe the dialog was just lame.  The actors who were supposed to be seniors looked like they were like me, a few years shy of wearing Depends.  Sure, some of the characters were interesting and made me want to see how things were going to play out, but the plot was pasteurized cookie cutter predictable pandering to the pre-pubescent people in training (or PITS as my old high school teacher used to say about anyone under 18).

“Prom” is all about class president, and all around super-star, Nova (Aimee Teegarden) trying to create the perfect moment in time for her friends and herself.  She has enlisted the help of several volunteers, nothing out of the ordinary there, as she has her heart set on one of them asking her to the prom, he finally does – but it is the most passionless proposal witnessed on screen.  She does accept, but as things seem settled and everything is being prepared for the big night, one classless idiot ruins the preparations in a flash.  Now, all her volunteers are over-booked and the principal steps in to help, as he assigns “bad-boy”, rebel-without-a-cause, Jesse Richter (Thomas McDonnell) to help Nova set things back into motion.  They only have three weeks, and if you can’t see where this is headed by now, wow, you really don’t get out much.

The peripheral story-lines center around love, loyalty, friendship and just generally surviving high-school – but, again, this is high-school according to Disney, sans the angst and torment most of us fondly remember – at least those of us whom were paying attention.  Some moments that I enjoyed, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention some new faces that impressed me a bit: Cameron Monaghan – worked well with very little screen-time; Danielle Campbell and Nolan Sotillo – felt all of their scenes, and the audience really “responded” to the characters; and Joe Adler – almost no dialog, and the kid easily provided the best subtle comedy throughout.

As you might expect, in this prom, nothing overly dramatic really plays out; all the drama is soft and thoughtful – safe.  There were no moments where I was surprised, which made for a completely dull viewing.  I hate bashing films, I really do, because even the biggest stack of crap can be used as fertilizer for some other project, a stepping stone for a career, a great character, interesting sub-text, something!  To that end, “Prom” wasn’t void of anything substantive, it just really wasn’t meant for me, and it didn’t have any real great moments – except the predictable ending, which I must admit was handled quite well.

“Vomitorium”

Swift shot:  I was actually disgusted when I left the theater after the credits rolled on this incredibly slow-paced farce of a thriller, with freakishly cartoonish inept “bad-guys” who are supposed to come across as somehow “lethal and scary”.  It failed to entice me, intrigue me, immerse me, but most-importantly, and least excusable, entertain me.  Hudson Hawk had more credibility!

I was really excited to see Hanna, of the two films I screened this week.  I had my hopes set really high.  But, other than Cate Blanchett’s performance, and at times, Saoirse Ronan’s being let off her dead stare leash, this film lacked anything worthwhile.

Hanna is a teenager whose whole existence has been about vengeance, and while I bought into that scheme with Kick Ass’s Hit Girl, Hanna left me unimpressed.  First, she is a buck nothing and seemingly can dispatch all manner of highly-trained, yet somehow completely fucking inept agents and bad-guys with her bare-hands.  Of course, since it is so in vogue these days, the two are one in the same, yes, folks, this “original” piece picks on Hollyweird’s favorite whipping boys at Langley.  Oh, granted, as only they can, they claim it is some rogue faction of the agency who have crossed the line.

Hanna tries to be one part spy thriller, one part road trip, one part fish out of water, one part freak show and by the time you see all those parts smashed together, it is all a big jumbled mess with little, to no, character exposition.  Nothing, in my opinion, is really resolved, and I really didn’t care.  That is a sign of a terrible story, if I don’t give a rat’s ass about what happens to any of these characters.  Plus, Hanna is the least interesting character in the film.

I don’t blame Ronan, she really impressed me in The Lovely Bones.  She seemed to be directed to look feeble, yet feral, and loveable yet have no emotion.  In the rare chances she was able to exercise her acting chops, she was immediately launched into some artsy-fartsy “European” shots, where the strangest soundtrack served as a backdrop to dialog free moments that lasted too long in a movie rife with disjointed editing and direction.  Joe Wright directed Hanna as well as several of my least favorite films, chiefly Atonement and The Soloist, the latter of which put me to sleep twice!

Hanna wasn’t complete crap; I really enjoyed some of the peripheral characters, and it did make me laugh a few times.  Several pieces were almost interesting, but again, the director lacked the ability to put it all together to be great.  It was like watching a kid with a coloring book who has all the elements to put together something decent.  But, somehow, Wright managed to color outside the lines throughout, with only a glance here or there of brilliance.

This would get a solid 1.5 stars but for Blanchett’s ability to make something amazing out of nothing – that being the script.  I say it all the time, for a movie to be effective, it can’t be tremendous at one thing and just flat-line on every other element.  Man, even the soundtrack was annoying, where cell phone ring tones were spliced to create, at first, annoyance that some douche-bag had a cell phone go off in the theater – nope, just the weird ass soundtrack.

Some idiot savant (sans savant) out there will say, oh, Rick, you just didn’t “get it” – bullshit, I will stand up against ANY rebuttle towards this review, this movie was just not good, period.  Granted, for every film there is a person out there that will just love the shit out of it, and no amount of sense can be pummeled into their heads.  I, for one, love Red Dawn, some people think it is a shit sandwich, fine, so to the few out there that think Hanna was a masterpiece of legendary cinema, I say, you can have Hanna, I will take D.A.R.Y.L. thanks!

She’s everything that a big, bad wolf could want.

The H-Bomb: I think the perfect quick, straight to the point, TV Guide description of this movie would be, “’Little Red Riding Hood’ reworked for the ’Twilight’ age,” because that’s exactly what it is. The pretty, young female protagonist is caught in the middle of a love triangle. One of the male participants in the triangle bears a resemblance to a certain sparkling vampire. The big, bad wolf is now a big, bad werewolf. The whole thing has a heavy “emo” vibe to it. And, as icing on the cake, the director of the movie is Catherine Hardwicke, who also directed the original “Twilight“ film. What a shocker.

In addition to the “Twilight” similarities, “Red Riding Hood” also freely borrows elements from “The Crucible” as well as M. Night Shyamalamadingdong’s “The Village” as it expands the Brothers Grimm fairy tale into a feature length film. The setup is fairly simple, Valerie (Amanda Seyfried) is a blossoming young woman living in a small, medieval village. She is arranged to be married to Henry (Max Irons, Jeremy‘s son), while her heart truly belongs to the rugged Peter (Shiloh Fernandez).

So while that cheap ass soap opera plot is busy wasting the audience’s time, we find out that for two generations the village has been living in fear of a ferocious werewolf that lives somewhere in the surrounding woods. The villagers are so terrified of it that every time there’s a full moon, they leave animal sacrifices outside of their homes in the hopes that the beast won’t attack them.

For years this has worked, but then, one day, the wolf attacks, and Valerie’s older sister is killed. The local priest (Lukas Haas) summons Father Solomon (Gary Oldman), a famed werewolf slayer, to the village to slay the wolf. But that’s not good enough for the men of the village, the drunken, headstrong lot that they are, who instead decide to form a lynch mob in order to hunt down and kill the creature themselves.

They do indeed find a wolf in the cave where they believe it lives, and they do kill it, mounting it’s head on a stick and showing it off to the whole village. Shortly after, Solomon makes his fashionable entrance, with a posse of elite knights in tow, and informs these simple minded bumpkins that the wolf they killed is a regular wolf, and not a werewolf. They, being the simple minded bumpkins that they are, don’t believe him and decide to throw a gigantic, decadent party (bordering on mass orgy) for themselves.

Then the real werewolf crashes the party and kills several more of the villagers. Despite the valiant efforts of Solomon and his knights, the wolf gets away. Solomon vows to stay until he destroys it. However, his methods seem more likely to destroy the village instead, as he turns the people against each other by saying that the wolf is one of them, and by persecuting people he believes are practicing witchcraft.

Solomon’s suspicions then fall on Valerie after he is informed that she came face to face with the wolf and apparently was able to communicate with it. When others simply hear grunts and growls from it, she can actually hear words.

For everything “Red Riding Hood” has going for it; great visuals, strong performances, and a real sense of mystery, it just never really grabbed me. The biggest fault for me was the love triangle, a plot device so damn clichĂ©d and overused that it’s flat out lazy. It gets just as much screen time as anything relating to the wolf, which is way too much and really brings the movie down. Looking at both of the young men vying for Valerie, I found that they were both a couple of fucking creeps, and that she could do better than either one. The three way romance thread just seemed to be there in order to stretch the story out to feature length, and every time the movie got into it, I got bored very quickly.

Also, this flick doesn’t really fly as a horror movie, either. It comes up empty handed on both scares and suspense, and as far as the mystery about the werewolf’s identity goes
 I guessed it long before it was revealed. And again, thanks to director Hardwicke, who began her career on a very high note with “thirteen”, only to disappoint ever since, the whole thing just stinks of “Twilight”. I would’ve thought she’d want to go in a different direction after “Twilight”, but, she chose to ape her previous film instead. What a letdown. In addition to all that, the CGI werewolf looked like a CGI werewolf. In other words, it looked pretty damn fake.

But, all that said, the film isn’t terrible, and it gets a big boost from the performances. Seyfried is simply luminous as Valerie. Yeah, the script gave her almost nothing but tired crap to work with, but she played it well, and the camera is simply in love with her. This Li’l Red Riding Hood sure is lookin’ good. Oldman, as the seemingly heroic Solomon who becomes more villainous as things progress, once again delivers a standout turn. Why this man has not yet won an Oscar is simply mind boggling. He should have won several by now.

In addition to the actors, I also really liked the look of this film, even though it does look a lot like “Twilight”. The cinematographer and production designer definitely earned their paychecks with this one. The village and the forest had a very Tim Burton-esque look to them, and I mean that as a compliment. Another thing, the very famous “What big eyes you have. What big ears you have. What big teeth you have” is worked into the film in a fairly clever way. I got a chuckle out of it.

At the end of the day, “Red Riding Hood” just didn’t do it for me. Falling back on the stale love triangle idea was just inexcusable, there’s way too much Twilightiness for my liking, and the horror elements just weren‘t all that effective. If you’re a fan of “Twilight”, then for you this is a must see. For all the non-Twi-hards out there, not so much.

Review by Alyn Darnay
Directed by: Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (Babel, 21 Grams and Amores Perros)
Starring: Javier Bardem, Blanca Portillo, Eduard Fernandez, Maricel Alvarez.

“Biutiful” is not beautiful, not by a long shot. There are three things you need to know about this film right from the start:  1) Javier Bardem’s performance is masterful, dazzling, the best he’s ever been and worth seeing for it’s absolute daring (He’s been nominated for a Best Actor Oscar, and he probably deserves to win).  2) Inarritu is a very talented director, a virtuoso who has made several stand out films characterized by his singular bleak worldview.  3) Watching this film will make you feel like you’re serving an eternity in purgatory; so unrelenting and painful is the hero’s journey here.

Bardem plays Uxbal, a low-level entrepreneur in Barcelona’s seedy underworld. Even though he struggles hard for every dime he makes, he cares desperately for the people who work for him, mostly immigrants living in the multi-ethnic barrio, Al Raval. He runs any con or rip-off he can, to make money for his two beloved children. You see, above all, this is tale of fatherhood, of absolute love for one’s children, and the fight to see that they are taken care of.

Uxbal has left his estranged wife, a manic-depressive sex addict, and maintains custody of the children. As the story starts Uxbal discovers he is dying, and has only a few weeks left to live. As he desperately tries to find ways to provide for the children, everything in his life goes tragically wrong. It’s a constant downward spiral that even his best intensions are not good enough to stop. As the pressure mounts from every side, his struggle to earn a living is replaced by his desperate need to stay alive long enough to protect those he loves. It’s a long dark ride into the abyss, two and a half hours of it.

It’s not that the film is made badly, it’s not. The performances are uniformly superior, the handheld cinematography by Rodrigo Prieto is fantastic, Gustavo Santaolalla’s musical score soars, and even Inarritu’s direction is flawless. The problem is that “Biutiful” is just too unrelenting, too dark, too soul sucking. In the end it lost me, I felt as defeated as the main character. But if you like long depressing art films, and many people do, this one’s right up your alley, everyone else, take a pass.