We learn three things while watching Davis Guggenheim’s music documentary It Might Get Loud. First we learn that Jack White, though a phenomenal guitar player and one of the most innovative artists of his musical generation, is a pompous brat and quite full of shit. Second we learn that The Edge is nothing more than smoke & mirrors – the electronic man behind the Wizard’s curtain. And last, but certainly not least, we learn that Jimmy Page is still the coolest guy in Rock & Roll.
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Well, half a movie is better than none at all, right? I hope for Nora Ephron’s sake (and the sake of all those who sat through her latest) that is true, because half a movie is just what we get with her latest candy-coated confectionary, Julie & Julia. On the one hand, half of this bipolar motion picture is a vibrant and joyous movie about love, passion and French cuisine, starring the effervescent über-actress almighty, Meryl Streep, walloping out a pitch perfect portrayal of the ever-fascinating “Lady of the Ladle” Julia Child. On the other hand, Ephron’s typically underwhelming will-o’-wisp filmmaking style lends to the other half of her film being an annoying, and quite cloying, middle management kind of affair, featuring the usually dependable Amy Adams as wouldbe back door cook and average cubicle cutter, turned dogged blogger Julie Powell. It is a tale of two women – one weak, one strong, one a powerhouse, one a sniveling wannabe, one an ingenue, one Meryl “freakin” Streep – and no matter how hard poor Miss Adams, or for that matter, poor schmucky Miss Powell, tries, never these twains shall meet.
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A modernized telling of the early stages of humanity adept with modern language, fart jokes, the ingestion of fecal matter, and  a multitude of offenses in regard to religion and history, Year One was something a grand comic genius like say, Mel Brooks (History of the World Part I) could have pulled off.
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The Brothers Bloom is a whopper of a tale. It follows the typical con-man falls for the con plot, but The Brothers Bloom is far from typical. It’s fantastical, farfetched, and riveting. Writer/director Rian Johnson, who brought us the neo-noir film Brick (2005) is back in action, and clearly having a hell of a time.

The story follows the lives of con-men Stephen (Ruffalo) and Bloom (Brody) from their early days when they were kids to the height of their deceptive prowess. After their latest escapade Bloom decides that this isn’t the life for him. Years later, Stephen shows up with one last con for the duo to pull off.

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Before we delve into the review portion of the evening, there are three things one must first know about Away We Go. First off, Maya Rudolph is charming and funny – a first-rate comedienne. Secondly, John Krasinski is wry and whimsical – bringing his quiet brand of humanity to the role. And third, and most importantly, Away We Go is none of these things – and even less. It’s a shame really, but it’s the truth. While Rudolph and Krasinski seem near perfect for the movie – and for each other, their chemistry a palpable, breathing entity all its own – the film which surrounds them is nothing more than a shameful, cloying, pandering work of optimistically jaded, pseudo-cinematic falderal. And that is my being generous.
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Perhaps it’s my nostalgic, somewhat romantic idealizing of the 1970’s of my childhood. Perhaps it’s the simple, but quite head-tilting fact that I actually grew up in an amusement park (stop tilting your head, it’s true – my family worked the park and I had free reign to ride anything I wanted to). Whatever the case, I rather enjoyed this film about college bound kids working at a run-down amusement park in late seventies suburban Pittsburgh. In fact I liked it quite a bit more than I ever expected to. Director Greg Mottola’s previous film (his only previous film actually) was the Judd Apatow-produced Superbad, a lowbrow bro-com replete with the obnoxia more oft than not associated with the Apatow cinematic universe. I was not impressed, to say the least, and though I wasn’t completely put off by the film, its lack of artistic merit gave me woes of anxiety when walking into the screening for the boldly titled (but ironically so, I suppose) Adventureland. Well, those anxious woes were steadily alleviated throughout this smartly written and romantically wry little film. Boy, was my face red.
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Originally posted at Cinexcellence.

Watchmen, Zack Snyder’s adaptation of the much-loved graphic novel of the same name, was released theatrically on Friday. Having not read the graphic novel, all I knew about the film going in was what I saw in the previews.

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Originally posted at Cinexcellence.

Starting with teachers at a high school in Paris introducing themselves before the school year begins, director Laurent Cantet sets the mood and setting for the rest of the film. The Class rarely steps outside of the building, showing us what happens within the confines of the classroom.
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Kiddie horror films are a comparative rarity. In practice, this makes pretty good sense: after all, the MPAA has gotten pretty stingy with those all-important G and PG ratings in the last couple of decades, and more often than not, the sort of terror (and often straight-up violence) that the genre demands is enough to get a movie slapped with a PG-13, at the very least. In theory, though, it’s a little absurd: every other major genre is well represented in children’s and family films, and one would think that kids need to learn to deal with their fear at least as much as adults do. Most parents wouldn’t sit their three-year-olds down in front of A Nightmare on Elm Street, but it’s also hard to imagine the world of family entertainment without Cruella de Vil or the Wicked Witch of the West.
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Charlie Kaufman’s absurdity meets the style of Wes Anderson in this quirky look at humanity and the art of storytelling.

Carrie Preston plays Marian, an author who is struggling with her latest novel about two man-children (No, this is not a Will Ferrel movie) who live together in a landlocked boat in the middle of nowhere, surviving on cereal and milk.

Faced with writer’s block, Marian goes to Preston (Austin Pendelton) for help. Encouraged by her mentor, Marian attempts to off her main character. What she doesn’t realize, however, is that Humkin has other plans in mind, and literally leaps into our world.
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I’m going to have some business cards printed up: “Luke Harrington: He Majored in English so You Don’t Have To.” Then I’ll make it my duty to inform everyone of the cutting-edge literary theories that they should be applying to the movies they watch. I guess I’ll start by telling you that, while studying critical theory, I ran across a complaint against literature (yeah, nearly all literature) posed by a theorist of feminist criticism. The complaint was simple: that the concept of “story” as we’ve all been taught to think about it (and as the story is related by way of novels, plays, films, etc.) is inherently a phallic, and therefore androcentric, one. Maybe that sounds ridiculous, but think about it for a second: every “story” (at least as the term is defined in Western culture) begins with the introduction of a character into a setting; the character has a single driving goal; the thrust (hee hee) of the story involves the character trying to accomplish this one goal until a climax — a single climax, mind you — is reached (and yes, there must always be a climax), at which point the story is more or less over. It’s linear, it’s goal-driven, and it’s phallic. Am I wrong?

No really, am I wrong?
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You have never seen a film like Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father, I can promise you that. You may have thought about a film this before in terms of “what if” or “if only”, but you have never seen something like this completely realized. For this reason, you should stay away from much information about the film because it is so filled with utterly heart-wrenching twists and turns that to read even the most menial summary before sitting down to watch it would be an injustice to the experience.

See this movie. It may not always be pleasant, but you will not regret it.
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There’s something to be said for a horror film that utilizes sun-filled fields and posh suburban homes rather than dank abandoned warehouses. I truly appreciate a flick that goes out on a limb and tries to make the mundane frightful. It’s a fine line to walk — the filmmakers have to give us enough common elements to make us feel comfortable in the world before yanking the rug out from under us. When they yank that proverbial rug, however, they’d better yank hard. The bar is set pretty high for this type of movie by The Exorcist, The Omen, and Rosemary’s Baby.
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This review was originally published October 29th, 2008.

If nothing else, High School Musical 3: Senior Year is the first film in the series that actually features a high school musical (long-time fans will remember that the first was concerned only with the audition for the title event, and that the second actually featured neither a high school nor a musical). That may not be high praise, but I think it’s a pretty good metaphor: number three isn’t perfect, but I think you could make the case that it gets more things right than either of the previous two films did. It won’t change the minds of any of the HSM-haters, but it’s likely to be the least offensive to them. And if nothing else, it provides a pretty good glimpse into what could have been, had Disney given the original’s book and libretto the respect they deserved.
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This review was originally published November 6th, 2008.

Changeling is one of those films that critics hate to write about — the sort that delivers exactly what it promises, and nothing more. Based on a true story that was tangential to the Wineville Chicken Coop Murders, the film makes no pretenses of being anything other than a relatively faithful recreation of the events; it looks at nothing much deeper than you’d expect it to, and makes no effort to delve into the psyches of its characters; on the other hand, the story itself is fascinating enough that it manages to hold your attention pretty well for a couple of hours. It goes out recommended, but don’t expect to hear about it much come Oscar time.
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This review was originally published October 9th, 2008.

Full disclosure: I take my faith fairly seriously, which places me squarely in the demographic that Bill Maher is attacking in his new documentary, Religulous. Given that, reviewing this film could be akin to a member of the Bush administration reviewing Fahrenheit 9/11 or an Orthodox Jew reviewing The Passion of the Christ. Read the following with a salt shaker close by.
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This review was originally published October 5th, 2008.

The science fiction/horror genre has often served as a launching pad for story tellers who wish to explore grand themes and still deliver an exciting story. In the late 50’s Rod Serling perfected this balancing act of thrilling, funny, heartbreaking stories mixed with social commentary and personal reflection. In The Twilight Zone television series, Serling worked with top notch writers to craft stories that would entertain viewers week after week, while still delivering a powerful message, all in 30 minutes. My guess is that Fernando Meirelles, director of Blindness, has never seen an episode of The Twilight Zone.
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This review was originally published October 18th, 2008.

Josh Ickes, who had a positive reaction to the film, has posted a 2nd Opinion here.

Am I the only one who can still see that “politics” is almost the same word as “policy”? Am I the only one that remembers that the people you vote into your government actually end up, y’know, governing? Does anyone care anymore about being actively involved in our democracy? Or are we all just too busy laughing at the people who belong to different cliques than us?
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Keira Knightley has become the go-to girl for period pictures. Pride and Prejudice, Atonement, Silk, even the Pirates of the Caribbean flicks; if your character frolics in large, poofy dresses, wears hats the size of Gibraltar, or sports a hairdo that puts Marge Simpson to shame, your only recourse is, apparently, Ms. Knightley (aren’t those corsets beginning to leave a mark, my dear?). Nor does she show signs of slowing down: The Beautiful and the Damned (circa 19-roaring-20s) and King Lear lie in her immediate future.
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