Message to my Readers...

Dear Readers;

Due to unforeseen circumstances, the reviews will have to be temporarily put on hold.  I deeply regret having to do this, as I hold my readers in the absolute highest regard.  I love the movies, and will eagerly return to reviewing when circumstances allow.  Thank you for your continued patience.

I'd also recommend that if you have not yet done so, please feel free to sign up for email notification and I will send out word via email the moment the reviews start up again.  It's a simple procedure... just enter your email in the space labeled "Follow by Email."  (It's immediately to the right.)  Thanks again.

I'll be back reviewing shortly.  Thanks again for your continued support.

Michael Brendan

"The Three Musketeers"

Runtime:1 hr. 50 min.

Rated PG-13 for sequences of adventure action violence

Cast: Logan Lerman, Milla Jovovich, Matthew MacFadyen, Ray Stevenson, Luke Evans, Mads Mikkelsen

Director: Paul W.S. Anderson

When 3D made its resurgence into mainstream Hollywood features a few years back, some studios refused to offer audiences a 2D option, forcing all into an additional $3 surcharge per ticket if they wanted to see a particular movie. This was met with an outcry from moviegoers, and the studios subsequently relented and offered standard viewing options. I sense something else was at play here. The average moviegoer was dialed into something the average studio executive was not... that what sucks in 2D cannot be rectified by 3D.

I have never been a proponent of 3D filmmaking (at least, not in feature-length movies) and always seek out the 2D option when reviewing. The decision behind this isn't so much bred from my outspoken distaste of 3D, but more from the fact that when down to brass tacks, there isn't much point to the added dimension. Standard 2D is cinematic sea level... if a film can't float there, 3D isn't going to make a lick of difference.

Not all 3D films are bad. ("Kung Fu Panda 2" and "Dolphin Tale" are two recent examples of good 3D.) But where studios get into trouble is when they choose to fund a movie idea based solely on how it might play with the added dimension. Such is the case with this ridiculously loose adaptation of Alexandre Dumas' "The Three Musketeers." The movie is a diarrheic deluge of anachronisms. Everything from fight maneuvers that seem plucked from "The Matrix" to ninja-inspired camouflage techniques to an army of half-zeppelin, half-galleon airships armed with all manner of state-of-the-art firepower seems to have been conceived solely on how totally radically cool it'd be in 3D. The problem isn't necessarily the anachronisms but that despite the often mesmerizing production design, the film somehow never manages to be fun. 

Look, I'll credit the movie for its visual style which at times borders on the jaw-dropping. (This is one of the best looking films I couldn't care less about.)  But what it has in technical skill is offset by a misplaced passion with regards to the story. Watching the film, we can see where director Paul W.S. Anderson ("Event Horizon") has spent the most amount of thought and effort... mostly in the scenes involving his real-life wife, Milla Jovovich ("Resident Evil") as the seductive, double-crossing Milady. The scenes where she slides backward to avoid Indiana Jones-style propelled spikes or where she fights off a slew of guards before bungee-jumping half-naked off the palace roof are handled with noticeable skill, the anachronistic tone of those scenes notwithstanding. Yet we can also see where little effort has gone into the production; there are dialogue exchanges that are rushed and so lacking in thought, meaning, or emotion that one wonders if Anderson was even present while those scenes were put to film. The director appears to put effort into certain aspects of the story while shamelessly disregarding others. The film is more interested in inspiring awe in its scale than interest in its characters. The result is a movie that didn't feel complete to me... like watching a professional football player who takes plays off.

The plot is so loose it barely warrants any real detailed mention. As the story opens, hard times have befallen Athos (Matthew Macfadyen), Porthos (Ray Stevenson), and Aramis (Luke Evans). When a plot is unearthed to plunge France and England into war, the trio--with the prodding of the impetuous young swordsman D'Artagnan (Logan Lerman)--reunite to fulfill their patriotic duty.

The performances are hit and miss. Logan Lerman gets D'Artagnan's unbridled cockiness right but seems a mite too self-aware in the process; he's not really credible as an idealistic young fighter of the time, but comes off more like a modern day high schooler with the lead in the student play. He's about as heroic as Bill or Ted. My problem with Milla Jovovich isn't that she can't act per se, but that she's simply too aware of how good-looking she is. Her perpetual lack of self-effacement cripples her performances. As the Musketeers, Macfadyen, Stevenson, and Evans are all solid actors with too little to do here. Christoph Waltz as Cardinal Richelieu and Mads Mikkelsen ("Casino Royale") as the vile Rocheford come off the best.

I suppose there is an audience for this film, but it isn't for lovers of Dumas' source material. The best way to analyze the movie is to call it what it is... Musketeers for the "Resident Evil" crowd. It's a technically sound movie that never garnered my interest. Those who prefer a high-spirited, dashing historical adventure may want to revisit Dumas' original work instead. It's more entertaining. And cheaper.

* 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars
 

"Paranormal Activity 3"

Runtime:1 hr. 21 min.

Rated R for some violence, language, brief sexuality and drug use

Director: Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman

The problem is unsolvable. It's not a problem for the studio who will rake in the profits. Nor will it be troubling to the scores of "Paranormal Activity" fans who revel in being jolted from their seats by Movies With Really Loud Bangs And Where Things Pop Out At Them. But for those who view their horror with a more discernible eye, they will see a film minus a luster that it can't get back.

What was a clever idea hatched in the original has now become the horror equivalent of a "Where's Waldo?" book where our eyes scan the screen to pinpoint where the next thing will pop out at us. The original "Paranormal Activity" managed to circumvent its narrative gimmick (the setting up of a video camera in the couple's bedroom) and prey on our deepest fears of things that go bump in the night. The difference there was that we actually cared about the young couple, and felt genuinely bad for them as they struggled to come to terms with the deluge of supernatural terror. With these last two sequels, I just stopped caring.

Both "2" and now "3" have gone to painstaking lengths to amplify the camera footage gimmick without realizing that the terror conveyed in the original had little to do with the gimmick itself. The most compelling aspect in the first film wasn't the idea of the camera, but the fact that the camera was set up solely in the bedroom and the "night" scenes took place mostly within those confines. That was key. We could hear odd noises coming from the rest of the house, but our imaginations took control from there. The second movie incorporated a turgid collection of surveillance cameras that displayed every angle of the house and robbed us of the use of our imagination.

If little else, this third installment wisely scraps the surveillance approach in favor of a "Blair Witch"-syle found footage angle. To their credit, directors Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman ("Catfish") get whatever mileage they can from such techniques as a camera mounted on an oscillating fan base, and they do manage to elicit decent enough performances from the cast. (At least the fear these people experience seems genuine, unlike the husband in "2" who lacked even a smidgen of cognizance and was so intellectually bankrupt that when the paranormal entity snapped his neck, it did the human race a favor and I wondered if Whatever It Was was an avid subscriber to Mendel's theory of heredity.) This film is better than the second, but not by much. Getting a viewer to jump at loud noises requires far less skill than igniting their interest and preying on their imagination. These movies aren't as ambitious as you think.

The story opens with adult sisters Katie (Katie Featherston) and Kristi Rey (Sprague Grayden) uncovering a cardboard box containing a slew of VHS tapes from their childhood. Days later, the house has been broken into, ransacked, and the tapes go missing. From there, we're shown what was apparently on those tapes... taken back to 1988, where the sisters (Chloe Csengery and Jessica Tyler Brown) first began to experience the "activity."  Their parents (Lauren Bittner and Christopher Nicholas Smith) are a well-meaning couple; the mother a devoted housewife and the father a wedding videographer with a conveniently vast amount of free time. As the terror mounts, the family is forced to flee their house, only to realize (as we already know) that the "activity" isn't linked to the home but to the girls.

As with the previous sequel, the film does offer up a third act "reveal" with plot twists that are equal parts delphic and arbitrary. The advertisements say "Discover the Truth Behind the Activity" but what they don't tell you is that said truth is laughably arcane and leaves more questions than answers. But that, I suppose, is the whole point. Each one of these movies is little more than an excuse for next October's inevitable installment.

Most will disagree with me on this. I know that. And if base-level "BOO" moments are your thing, have at it. But the problem I have is that it doesn't require cinematic skill to make a viewer jump with loud bangs and things popping out of the dark. If someone comes up behind you when you're working and screams in your ear causing you to jump, do you consider that person an artistic genius or an asshole? The line between being captivated and being duped is a fine one in the horror genre and for me, these sequels repeatedly find themselves on the wrong side of that line.

* *  out of  * * * *  stars 

"Footloose"

Runtime:1 hr. 53 min.

Rated PG-13 for some teen drug and alcohol use, sexual content, violence and language

Cast: Kenny Wormald, Julianne Hough, Dennis Quaid, Andie MacDowell, Miles Teller

Director: Craig Brewer

“Footloose” is a faithful remake of a moderately entertaining 80s movie hit.  One’s enjoyment of the movie can, I imagine, quite accurately be gauged on how much he/she enjoyed the 1984 original.  The movie follows its predecessor more closely than most remakes.

I never found the first "Footloose" to be a great movie, but an acceptable one.  It had high energy and a lot of catchy tunes, and its flaws were forgivable.  The film was a thinly-plotted fish-out-of-water, coming-of-age story that served as a perfect excuse to string together a series of music video numbers.  It was released just as MTV was getting its sea legs.  Many of my age group hailed the movie as defining our generation.  I didn’t quite see it that way.  (I can’t imagine a whole generation being represented by a solitary definition, let alone one offered up by a movie.)  Yet for what it was, I enjoyed it.

After his mother’s death from leukemia, Boston native Ren MacCormack (Kenny Wormald) relocates to the buckle of the Bible belt, an uptight small town named Bomont, Georgia.  He takes up residence with his aunt (Kim Dickens) and uncle (Ray McKinnon), befriends a likable yokel named Willard (Miles Teller) and catches the eye of wild child Ariel Moore (Julianne Hough) whose father (Dennis Quaid) is the local Presbyterian minister.  The most unique thing about Bomont is the law prohibiting dancing and loud music that the town board adopted following a horrific fatal car accident involving a group of beloved students—among them Ariel’s brother—that occurred three years prior to Ren’s arrival.  His love of music, dance, and freedom doesn’t mesh with the town’s strict social restrictions.

The director is Craig Brewer (“Hustle & Flow,” “Black Snake Moan”) and he is obviously a fan of the original.  It’s not too much of a stretch to picture him and cinematographer Amy Vincent sitting before a screen watching the original and taking notes.  There are a couple changes I did notice.  One alteration came in a scene where Ariel hangs from the window of her racer boyfriend’s car waving the checkered flag as he does a victory lap following a win.  This supplants a scene in the original where Ariel straddled herself between two moving cars as a tractor-trailer came barreling straight toward them.  This was a good change; the latter scene made Ariel less like a reckless teen and more like a suicidal nut.  Another scene that was swapped out was the farm tractor game of chicken between Ren and Ariel’s jealous hubby; it’s replaced with a bizarre bus race on a figure-8 dirt track that isn’t nearly as effective.  (And it doesn’t even make use of Bonnie Tyler’s “Holding Out for a Hero” that made the game of chicken in the first film more exciting than expected.)

Kenny Wormald and Julianne Hough are acceptable enough in the leads, though both are clearly better dancers than actors.  This is especially true for former “Dancing with the Stars” darling Hough, whose moves are so hypnotic that I wish the filmmakers had figured out a way to incorporate a lot more dancing into the story and a little less acting.  Kevin Bacon and Lori Singer were edgier and more complex, whereas Wormald and Hough seem more cut from the “American Idol” cloth.

Dennis Quaid plays Reverend Shaw Moore a bit differently from John Lithgow, who relished the fire and brimstone approach to his congregation and, more noticeably, toward his family.  Quaid’s character harbors strong reservations toward Ren, but seems a bit softer around the edges.  His own pain is a bit more noticeable.  Miles Teller’s Willard is a step-up, I think, from Chris Penn.  (Teller played the heartbroken young man who accidentally struck and killed Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckart’s son in “Rabbit Hole.”)  He’s a bit quicker on the verbal draw here, more likable and demonstrates some nifty dance moves of his own.

It’s a tough call.  I didn’t mind the movie yet I can’t quite bring myself to recommend it, perhaps because its scope of ambition is simply too narrow.  Brewer has made a remake that honors an original he clearly embraced, and that’s fine.  Now it’s time to aim higher.

* * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"The Thing"

Runtime:1 hr. 43 min.

Rated R for strong creature violence and gore, disturbing images and language

Cast: Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Joel Edgerton, Ulrich Thomsen

Director: Matthijs Van Heijningen Jr.

Monster movies are inherently absurd, so it’s sage advice for a filmmaker to embrace a degree of preposterousness in their approach to such material.  This updated version of "The Thing" is competent on a technical level but takes itself too seriously.  It's an absurd movie that doesn't realize it's absurd.

The result is an unpleasant slog through a gory cinematic landscape.  Of course John Carpenter's original had an excess of gore itself, but it was also endearingly over-the-top in its depiction of such carnage.  Who can forget the scene where a doctor attempts to revive a team member with a defibrillator only to have the paddles thrust through the man's chest, which transforms itself into a carnassial mouth that clamps down, severing the doctor's arms and causing blood to spurt from the sockets and spatter the walls... gory, goofy, and most importantly, memorable.  It's the horror movie equivalent of go big or go home.  Genre artisans like Carpenter, Romero, and Craven understand this approach all too well.

This version contains no such memorable scenes, opting instead for an approach that attempts to explain in numbing detail certain sci-fi elements where a mere line of dialogue or two would suffice.  There are a couple scenes that underscore this.  One involves an unusually detailed autopsy of the alien creature where the scientists spell out precisely how the alien entity imitates its prey.  Another comes late in the story and is set in the alien's "mother ship" where we're given a brief (and ultimately meaningless) glimpse into its possible origins.  Filmmakers today, I think, often get too caught up in demonstrating veracity.  Genre films don't need that; what they require is just enough credibility and a solid understanding of what makes those genres work.

It's not defined until the end credits whether the film is a re-telling, a sequel, or a prequel to the original movie.  The story takes place in Antarctica in 1982.  A team of Norwegian explorers has tracked a mysterious homing signal.  It has led them to an extraterrestrial spacecraft of sorts that seems to have crash landed, became embedded in the ice and has rested untouched for what they estimate has been 100,000 years.  That's not all.  Several feet from the downed craft an alien body is located, and ultimately dug up.

Eager way beyond caution, Dr. Sander Halvorson (Ulrich Thomsen) is bent on examining the alien remains in more detail.  He enlists the help of a young but brilliant grad student named Kate Lloyd (Mary Elizabeth Winstead).  She joins a vast team of Norwegian scientists and explorers whose mission is to obtain answers while carefully concealing everything they uncover.  Also embedded with the team are a couple American chopper pilots (Joel Edgerton and Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje).  Halvorson makes the unwise choice to take a tissue sample from the frozen alien.  It's only a matter of time before the alien breaks free from the ice.  The scientists soon learn that the creature has the ability to clone living organisms by "consuming" their blood cells.  They look and act like normal human beings, but are anything but.  No one knows who to trust.

The trick to making a premise like this click rests in the distinguishable personalities of the characters.  In Carpenter's original, the level of distrust was accentuated with the emergence of two central characters... Kurt Russell's steadfast MacReady and Keith David's suspicious Childs.  Their vitriolic verbal accusations toward one another added flavor to such scenes where team members tested their blood by taking samples, then touching them with a hot needle to get a reaction.  That kind of narrative ingenuity is missing here; the characters aren't diverse enough to gain our interest and the movie doesn't have as much fun with the idea of paranoia and seeking ways to circumvent it.  Director Matthijs van Heijningen seems more interested in the quality of his special effects over genuine chills.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead has a cool, detached, no-nonsense demeanor that works well here.  And Joel Edgerton embodies the kind of stoic persona we can get behind in this type of film.  But no other characters are given much of a personality.  This version is big on special effects but comes up short on genuine thrills.  John Carpenter’s original wasn’t art, but the guy knew the genre, and knew enough to make it memorable.

* *  out of  * * * *  stars

"The Big Year"

Runtime: 1 hr, 40 min.

Rated PG for language and some sensuality

Cast: Steve Martin, Jack Black, Owen Wilson

Director: David Frankel

Most movies I either recommend or resent.  Here is a movie so innocuous and well-intentioned that as I left the theatre, I felt guilty for not enjoying it more than I did. 

“The Big Year” is a comedy involving unusual subject matter about endearingly off-beat individuals, and is told with charm, a few good laughs, some terrific performances (especially in the supporting roles) and an eagerness to please.  I never really turned on the film, but I knew I wasn’t getting wrapped up in it either, which strangely proved to be more frustrating than viewing movies where I knew why I didn’t enjoy them.

At first I thought it might have been the subject matter itself.  After all, I know absolutely nothing about the intricate characteristics of the rare bird, and have generally believed that “birders”--whose love for the hobby is definitely endearing--were either insanely patient or patiently insane.  No, that wasn’t it.  I thought maybe there should have been more rapid-fire humor.  But no, this was clearly intended as a highbrow comedy/drama where the characters’ chief hobby was an allegory for their own lives.  Perhaps it was too rounded.  Too refined.  As crazy as it sounds, maybe the movie was too pleasant for its own good.

Based upon the book by Mark Obmascik, the story is narrated by Brad Harris (Jack Black), a thirty-six-year-old divorcee who is seeking more fulfillment than his nine-to-five desk job will afford.  He loves studying birds, and decides to do a "big year" which is a reference to a competition among birders to lay eyes on the highest number of species in a year-long span.  His endeavor is met with polar opposite reactions from his parents; his father (Brian Dennehy) demands that he put his fantasies aside to earn a living, though we sense the patriarch's dissatisfaction is bred more from his own inner turmoil (Brad does, after all, have a job).  His mother (Dianne Wiest) believes so strongly in him that she willingly surrenders her own credit card to be maxed out if need be on his behalf. 

Brad would love nothing more than to break the "Big Year" record, which is currently held by a charming though somewhat pompous birding expert named Kenny Bostick (Owen Wilson).  His efforts have netted him the world record for birding, but now he finds himself atop the tenuous highwire of keeping the title from the hands of competitors.  In addition to Brad Harris, another competitor is Stu Preissler (Steve Martin), a wildly successful businessman who has lived life in the fast lane for so long (his face has graced the cover of several major business publications) that he sees the world of birding as the perfect escape, only to realize that taking the competition too seriously has made him trade one obsession for another.  He is constantly hounded by his business colleagues (Joel McHale and Kevin Pollak) but what he really longs for is a life devoid of competitive endeavors. 

In addition to the central performances, the movie has some strong acting work in the narrative periphery.  My favorites included Brian Dennehy as a man who feels he has failed as a father only to see his son succeed at being happy in finding something he loves, JoBeth Williams as Stu's wife, who perceives what her husband longs for well before he does though keeps her realizations to herself and offers love and support until he realizes it himself.  And Rosemund Pike is quietly effective as Kenny's long-suffering spouse, who confesses that she remains in love with him which makes the ending of their union done in a way that crystallizes the tragedy of Kenny's obsession.

Unfortunately, the film falls to the wayside of other movies that have conveyed similar sentiments in both more humorous and more heartfelt manner.  Maybe the problem rests in the fact that there isn't quite a strong enough arc.  The movie plods along in snippets, offering up bits and pieces of things to care about without ever fully pulling us in.  The movie has its moments, but doesn't move beyond being mildly amusing. 

* * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"The Ides of March"

Runtime:1 hr. 42 min.

Rated R for pervasive language

Cast: Ryan Gosling, George Clooney, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Paul Giamatti, Evan Rachel Wood, Marisa Tomei, Jeffrey Wright

Director: George Clooney

"I'll do or say anything if I believe in the cause, but I have to believe in the cause."

The above sentiment is spoken by a campaign staffer in the employment of a highly-respected governor and democratic presidential hopeful.  But he is merely repeating an untested political ideal. When those ideals become fodder for manipulation by the politically unscrupulous, the staffer finds his values bending in ways he could not have fathomed.

"The Ides of March" is a lean, crisp, riveting thriller that doesn't break new ground as far as political truths go, but is nonetheless a smart piece of filmmaking with a story constructed a bit like a tsunami... we can sense the moment when the water ominously recedes, and the subsequent instant the wave begins to thunder ashore. The cast of characters includes both the idealistic and the cynical, and the movie is wise enough to realize that an idealist scorned is far more dangerous than a cynic.

I'll have to be mindful of how much I reveal, as the film's effectiveness hinges upon watching this story unfold. The setting is the state of Ohio, and the film drops us in the midst of the democratic primary race. At the center of the story is an idealistic campaign media mind named Stephen Myers (Ryan Gosling), who works tirelessly in the service of Pennsylvania governor and presidential hopeful Mike Morris (George Clooney). Stephen's boss is Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a highly-respected political veteran known for his unwavering loyalty. Paul’s number one goal at the moment is securing the endorsement of Ohio senator Thompson (Jeffrey Wright) who seems to be shamelessly offering said endorsement to whichever candidate can offer the most prolific cabinet post. Governor Morris' democratic primary challenger is a senator named Pullman (Michael Mantell), whose campaign is managed by a wily strategist named Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti).

The idealism that seems to define Stephen is met with varying reactions from different individuals... it's met with caution by his own campaign manager; it's countered with endearing skepticism by New York Times reporter Ida Horowicz (Marisa Tomei) who calls things as she sees them ("…your boy wins, you get a job in the White House; he loses, you’re back at a consulting firm off K Street…"), and it's embraced with unbridled interest by a delicately attractive intern named Molly Sears (Evan Rachel Wood) who is the DNC chairman’s daughter, and to whom Stephen engages in a romantic liaison.

One day out of the blue, the opposing campaign manager calls Stephen and requests a meeting. This is highly unusual. Compelled by curiosity, flattery, or perhaps a bit of both, Stephen takes the meeting in secret. The purpose of the meet is for recruitment to the opposing side. Of course Stephen refuses, but once word leaks to his bosses, the bell has been rung. In addition, Stephen soon learns of some rather unsavory truths regarding the man to whom he has spent the last few years serving. The dominoes begin to fall from there.

The movie is fascinating in the two tiers of personality types it focuses on. One is the politician himself… the inherently charismatic type who can win hearts and minds with superlative oratory skills and moderate intelligence. The other are the behind-the-red-white-and-blue-backdrop types; supremely perspicacious individuals with the requisite acuity to play up their candidates’ best traits while all-too-often laboring to conceal those skeletons that can derail a politician’s future. Stephen is exceptional as a behind-the-scenes campaign advisor, yet also possesses the shiftiness and fluidity that could lead to a successful career as a renowned public figure. This raises concerns in the "back rooms" of politics, where steadfast fealty to a candidate over a cause is a key component. Both Paul Zara and Tom Duffy sense this about Stephen, and one exploits it.

Describing an actor as having an understated intensity is a bit of an oxymoron, but Ryan Gosling is making a career out of that very description. He plays Stephen with a strange kind of sad-eyed fervency; caught between personal regret and vocational preservation, even at the cost of keeping painful truths secret. He’s no cleaner than anyone else here. George Clooney plays a presidential candidate with a straight-talking appeal and a rallying cry so seductive that we can easily find ourselves seeking any reason to shield our consciousness from unsetting realities, which proves difficult upon learning what we learn.

Philip Seymour Hoffman and Paul Giamatti are terrific as two punctilious political minds with jobs that don’t afford them the luxury of the kind of reckless thinking that can plague big-league political figures. After feeling betrayed by both Paul and Governor Morris, Stephen approaches opposing campaign manager Duffy and offers to work for him, but is turned away. "Revenge makes people unpredictable. Can’t have that," Duffy tells him. "What if I had something on Morris? Something big," Stephen counters. Duffy scoffs at the proposal… and he’s right to do so. He knows the kid’s career is in jeopardy, and the only way to save it is to reveal the information he’s offering to give up now. It’d be like trying to independently hire an Al-qaeda leader to plot a terrorist attack. There’s no point in hiring him.

The film is based upon the stage play "Farragut North" by Beau Willimon, who co-wrote the screen adaptation with Clooney and his longtime collaborator Grant Heslov. The truths revealed, the sentiments expressed, and the points made don’t really shed new light on anything we’ve seen in various other political thrillers, but this one is no less thrilling. As with all skilled political dramas, we find ourselves asking the questions we dread. How much trust can we put in our political leaders? How much can we forget? And do we really have much of a choice?

* * * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Real Steel"

Runtime:2 hr. 7 min.

Rated PG-13 for some violence, intense action and brief language

Cast: Hugh Jackman, Dakota Goyo, Anthony Mackie, Evangeline Lilly, Kevin Durand

Director: Shawn Levy

Hugh Jackman is an actor with a seemingly infinite supply of charisma, enough to sell just about any movie premise. What he has in "Real Steel" is the opportunity to do so. He did not have that liberty in the "X-Men" films, as the character of Wolverine was too one-note to ignite our sympathy or interest.

In "Steel" he, along with fellow cast mates Evangeline Lilly and scene-stealing youngster Dakota Goyo, managed to sell me on a premise that had me scratching my head when I first heard of it and made me cringe with impending dread upon viewing the trailer, which looked like a film adaptation of the old Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots game. (Corny, yeah, but if Michael Bay could torture us with an obnoxious movie series based on the Transformers toys, I thought anything was sadly possible.) The premise is inherently goofy, presented as such, and does fall back on various sports, father/son conflict, and science fiction clichés, but the actors make the film work in spite of itself. I was mildly amused by the concept, but I really grew to like these individuals.

The movie is set in the near future where robot boxing has become somewhat of a national obsession. Jackman plays Charlie Kenton, a down-on-his-luck former pugilist who now scrapes together some semblance of a living by scouring refuse heaps for scrap metal robots, piecing them together with the help of former flame and gymnasium owner Bailey Tallet (Evangeline Lilly, whose tomboy sex appeal borders on the heavenly) and having them compete for money in seedy competitions. He maintains this lifestyle while attempting to evade various bill collectors bent on procuring money owed.

Charlie’s life takes an unusual turn when he is informed that one of his old girlfriends has passed, and he is to be reunited with an eleven-year-old son named Max (Dakota Goyo) whom he hasn’t laid eyes on during at least ten of those years. Max harbors an inherent distrust of the man who left when he was a baby, and Charlie seems much more interested in getting back into the robot boxing game and paying off some of those debts. (We realize, however, that Charlie’s reluctance to bond with Max is that he doesn’t feel he deserves the love.)

Their relationship gets off to a rocky start, but the boy demonstrates not only an interest in the sport, but a surprisingly keen understanding of the nuances involved in robot boxing. One rainy night he unearths the pieces to an old "sparring robot" in a junkyard, wheels him back to the gym, helps put him together, and asks if Charlie can get him a fight. His father is skeptical, believing the kid’s robot—named Atom—would get destroyed against tougher mechanical beasts. But hey, he has nothing much else keeping him busy, and doesn’t have a bot of his own. He agrees. The plucky, rusted old Atom not only survives in the ring, but actually manages to string together a few wins which garners the attention of those in the professional robot boxing league.

Hugh Jackman’s performance requires him to be likable above all else, as playing a wheeler-and-dealer always necessitates a degree of amiability. (How else could one convince those who should know better to part with their money?) As Max, Dakota Goyo is a lot of fun to watch. The rise of Atom is his doing, and he embraces it. He has two terrific moments; one involves taking the microphone from the announcer following a fight and challenging the top contender—a monolithic mechanical monster named Zeus—to a match; the other has him programming Atom to shadow his movements on sight, then leading the bot to the ring in a funky dance that plays a lot better on screen than the way I make it sound here. Evangeline Lilly may not have the deepest acting range, but she demonstrates a remarkable cognizance of what she’s conveying. A lot of actors struggle with that. She is never caught overplaying any emotion, but gives us just enough to draw us in and make us care. Her performance gives the film a surprising amount of heart.

The movie is loud, colorful, and unapologetically over-the-top. But director Shawn Levy ("Night at the Museum") pulls back just enough so that the characters can gain our interest amidst the mechanical melee surrounding them. The end result is a movie that ended up being more entertaining than it really should have been. Sure, I felt like an idiot for smiling as the credits rolled, but that’s part of the fun.

* * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"50/50"

Runtime:1 hr. 39 min.

Rated R for some drug use, language throughout and sexual content

Cast: Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Seth Rogen, Anna Kendrick, Bryce Dallas Howard, Anjelica Huston

Director: Jonathan Levine

The tricky thing about blessings is that they're difficult to spot. They are all around us, but often require a shift in perspective in order to zero in on. Sometimes that shift comes in innocuous forms, other times in more drastic embodiments... a life-altering medical diagnosis, for example.

This was the case for Will Reiser, a comedy writer ("Da Ali G Show") who was diagnosed with a rare, operable form of cancer in his twenties. "50/50" is loosely based on his own story, and focuses on his relationships as he undergoes treatment in the hopes of an outcome adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Labeling the film a "cancer movie" is a bit limiting and isn't really being fair, though perhaps unavoidable. While it's not quite as sharp and penetrating as Mike Nichols' "Wit" or doesn't possess the sentimental resonance of the most highly-regarded films of its type ("Terms of Endearment," "Brian's Song"), it nonetheless skillfully blends drama and humor into a heartfelt awakening of perspective.

The movie stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Adam Lerner, a segment producer for NPR who lives his life with manifest caution... he eats right, exercises regularly, obeys all crosswalk signs when jogging, and never learned to drive for fear of an accident. Yet all his prudent acts of self-preservation didn't shield him from a cancer diagnosis during a doctor visit for back pains. He informs his closest confidants, though comes to realize he hasn't many. They include Kyle (Seth Rogen) whose comic excess sometimes wears thin even though the engaging goofball does offer a somewhat effective reprieve from the monotony of day-to-day life. ("Fifty-fifty, that's not so bad," Kyle offers upon hearing the prognosis. "If you were a casino game, you'd have like the best odds." He later sees it as a prime opportunity to score with the ladies.) Adam also tells his live-in girlfriend, Rachel (Bryce Dallas Howard), an artist who genuinely wants to be supportive though struggles with the immoderate change required in supporting a loved one facing such a dire medical circumstance. Adam dreads telling his mother (Angelica Huston), fearing her level of worry and the fact that she works tirelessly to care for Adam's father (Serge Houde) who is suffering from Alzheimer's.

Adam is noticeably rocked by the news, though seems more preoccupied with how his close ones will react. He offers Rachel an "out" to which she refuses, yet we wonder if she'll possess the emotional strength to stand by him. He does inform his mother, then strives to perpetually keep her at arm's length in a misguided effort to maintain his own peace of mind. To help him cope, he begins seeing a hospital-staff psychologist named Katherine McKay (Anna Kendrick), who he is surprised to learn is a mere twenty-four years old and working toward her doctorate. She's a kind, well-meaning soul though her naivete is in full view. ("Aren't you supposed to be wearing an earth-toned sweater and be sixty-five years old?" Adam jokes. "Why, did someone say I look like that?" is her reply.) He also befriends two fellow chemotherapy patients (Philip Baker Hall and Matt Frewer) who introduce Adam to the wondrous world of medicinal marijuana.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt has carved an impressive career playing quirky, off-beat characters in more independent fare, even though he's perfectly capable of leading man material. (He came remarkably close to stealing the hero persona away from Leonardo DiCaprio in "Inception.") He makes Adam stoic enough to earn our respect while keeping him human enough to obtain our sympathy. His strongest moment comes just as he's about to be wheeled in for surgery. He has maintained a surprisingly steadfast poker face throughout most of the ordeal, yet we see a quick surge of panic as the anesthesia is first administered; the possibility of this being the end takes hold.

The movie's comic relief is primarily offered through Seth Rogen's performance playing the familiar Rogen shtick. I sense this is done almost by necessity as anything else. If the script had given his character a more nuanced arc that ran parallel to Adam's, it might have thrown the film off-balance. We know Kyle considers his friendship to Adam more important than he lets on; we don't need to have that spelled out for us. As Dr. McKay, Anna Kendrick strikes a nice balance between attempting to keep the doctor-patient relationship professional and inching toward a union that we sense she needs as much as Adam does. We're tempted to judge Bryce Dallas Howard's Rachel for not being able to support Adam, but she's not heartless per se. Situations like this are tough for every loved one; some are better equipped to handle it than others... Rachel just doesn't have the right makeup to adjust to the situation. I imagine there are lots of people like that. And Anjelica Huston expresses the kind of maternal love that can only be accepted, for trying to assuage it only makes it grow.

I fear I've made the movie sound much more melancholic than it is. Yes, there are somber moments, but there are just as many humorous bits that offset the heaviness. That the film doesn't tilt too far in either direction comes as little surprise; balancing the two can't involve extremes. At the core is the simple yet comforting realization that happiness is never too far away. Poor people don't dream of being rich; they dream of not worrying about being poor. Lonely people don't dream of being popular; just of having a sole companion with whom they can share simple moments of joy. And sick people don't dream of being world-class athletes; just healthy enough to share time with those they love. What we truly need in our own individual darkest hours--whatever form they take--is what we ourselves can provide... an alteration of perspective; to look out at the horizon, count our blessings, and enjoy the view.

* * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"Dream House"

Runtime: 1 hr, 32 min.

Rated PG-13 for violence, terror, some sexuality and brief strong language

Cast: Daniel Craig, Naomi Watts, Rachel Weisz, Elias Koteas, Marton Csokas

Director: Jim Sheridan

Movies about psychological madness should at least exist in an atmosphere of psychological madness. For all the flak Martin Scorsese received for making his "Shutter Island" too over-the-top in its visual style, his was the exact right approach to that material. "Dream House," by contrast, is about as compelling as a game of Clue.

If nothing else, films like this should in no way be subtle. Whatever else you may have thought of "Shutter Island," Scorsese at least got that part right. "Dream House" is more subtle than dead weight, to say nothing of the fact that it isn't scary, isn't involving, and has a plot that makes little sense.  The bigger problem for me, however, was that it's constructed in a way that makes it near impossible to care for the characters.  I could hear the narrative gears grinding away, but harbored little interest in seeing the story unfold.

Amazingly, the director is Jim Sheridan ("In the Name of the Father," "In America"). The cast includes such acting A-list heavyweights as Daniel Craig, Rachel Weisz, and Naomi Watts.  They do what they can, though all look irretrievably lost amidst plot points that struggle to add up.

The premise involves a former editor-turned-novelist (Craig) who moves his wife (Weisz) and daughters from New York City to rural Connecticut into their dream home, only to realize that the previous owner allegedly murdered his whole family five years prior, and his neighbor (Watts) might know more than she is letting on. I won't reveal too much so as not to spoil any plot developments, though that's a rather moot endeavor; the more revealed, the more questions it invites.  Suffice it to say, the novelist investigates, which leads to a would-be suspense-filled real world/spirit world conclusion that needs to be seen to be believed.  Or better yet, not believed and left alone altogether. 

So, what went wrong here? It's been reported that producer James G. Robinson wrestled the project away from director Sheridan, as he was unhappy with the direction the story was taking. Director and producer fought vehemently throughout the production, and Sheridan (along with Craig and Weisz) were so disgusted with the final product that they refused to do any press for the film's release. I have no idea how close to the truth that is, yet I wonder if a lot of this is post-disaster posturing. I suspect the project got away from the filmmakers long before principal photography ceased. This feels lost at the conception level.

If there was a way to make this premise work, I don't see it.  It seems like one side of the filmmaking team favored suspense while the other favored sentimentality, and the end result was a compromise that favored neither.  Commenting on movies like this is a difficult task, as the whole project falls well beneath the level of talent at the table.  It's like trying to pinpoint the reasons behind being dealt a bad hand in poker.  The only real salvation comes in the ethereal atmosphere created through Caleb Deschanel's effective cinematography, though that's kind of like being served a plate of bacteria-laced food but complimenting the restaurant's table settings.

I am, and will continue to be, admirers of actors Craig, Weisz, and Watts.  And I suppose Jim Sheridan can make an incredible comeback... when the DVD is released, if it contains a director's cut that actually makes this stuff compelling, I will be truly amazed.

* 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Dolphin Tale"

Runtime: 1 hr, 52 min.

Rated PG for some mild thematic elements

Cast: Morgan Freeman, Harry Connick, Jr., Ashley Judd, Kris Kristofferson, Nathan Gamble

Director: Charles Martin Smith

Movies don't get more irresistible than this. In the minefield that is film criticism, I imagine there will be those who dismiss the film's efforts, although I can't imagine what some critics could possibly find objectionable here.

"Dolphin Tale" knows what it is, knows what it wants to accomplish, and spares no effort in appealing to viewer emotions. I have several colleagues who resent such tactics. But is that really a flaw on the part of the film? One acquaintance in particular told me once that she despises being emotionally manipulated in any form by a movie. So why go at all? I found myself wondering.

The film takes pride in its innocence. There is no cynicism, no violence in the least, not even any real forced conflict between the characters. (The closest it comes to conflict involves a summer school teacher who objects to his young student taking time off to tend to the injured dolphin, but even he begrudgingly comes around.) The absence of character conflict might turn off screenwriting students and hardcore critics, but sometimes, in this world with a sea of acceptable reasons to shut ourselves off from others, it's nice to bear witness to a heartfelt impetus to actually engage with life.

The movie is based on truth. Hollywood, I suspect, still hasn't quite mustered the nerve to make a fictional tearjerker like this. The story is of Winter the dolphin (played by the real-life Winter), who became ensnared in the ropes of a crab trap and washed up on a Florida beach, where she was discovered by a young boy named Sawyer Nelson (Nathan Gamble). Until that fateful day on the beach, Sawyer had his own share of personal issues; his father recently departed without a word, his cousin Kyle (Austin Stowell) is about to ship off to war in the Middle East, he is failing most of his classes and has a strained relationship with his mother (Ashley Judd). Sawyer's life changes forever upon discovering the wounded mammal. He helps cut her loose, and Winter is taken to the local marine aquarium for medical care. The aquarium is run by Dr. Clay Haskett (Harry Connick Jr.) and several tireless assistants. Sawyer immediately strikes up a friendship with Dr. Clay's daughter, Hazel (Cozi Zuehlsdorff), as they share a few common bonds... Winter for one, and the fact that both have lost a parental figure. (We learn Hazel's mother passed away when she was seven.) To save Winter's life, her tail had to be removed, forcing her to adjust her backside swimming motion from up and down to side to side. This works for a while, until that motion begins to cause irreparable damage to her spine. The situation is grim.

Meanwhile, other tragic events have befallen the citizens of Clearwater, Florida. Kyle was injured in an explosion, has lost the use of his right leg, and is despondent upon returning home from the War. Also, the aquarium is suffering from money problems, and faces no other choice but to sell to an entrepreneur who wishes to erect a hotel there. This would mean no medical care for Winter. One day, while visiting Kyle at the VA hospital, Sawyer takes note of the prosthetics prowess of Dr. Cameron McCarthy (Morgan Freeman) and has an idea... is there a way to make an artificial tail for Winter? "Nobody in their right mind would even attempt such a thing," he solemnly replies. Then adds, "Luckily, I'm not in my right mind." Sawyer, Dr. McCarthy, and the team at the aquarium work around the clock to help save Winter's life. The collective effort soon gains nationwide attention, and there just might be a way to save the aquarium after all.

The director is Charles Martin Smith, a veteran actor who played the kind SETI scientist who helped free Jeff Bridges in "Starman" and the self-effacing accountant who ultimately joined forces with Eliot Ness in "The Untouchables." The movie contains quite a few emotional parallels to Winter's story (Sawyer's absent father, Hazel's deceased mother, Kyle's lost limb, the aquarium's lack of financial solvency) yet all those subplots are handled delicately and never feel like they're competing with each other or with the central story of Winter. Smith and screenwriters Karen Janszen and Noam Dromi are very careful where they align all those symbolic storylines so that one never upstages the other. It seems like the film should be more contrived and mawkish than it is. The more melancholic moments are tempered with some humorous bits, including a feisty pelican who has made himself at home in the aquarium, and a runaway remote controlled helicopter that wreaks havoc on the unsuspecting marine life.

I realize I've imparted a number of plot points, but I don't think that will impact one's enjoyment. The effectiveness of the movie isn't in the narrative mechanics, but the emotions they evoke; a reasonable moviegoer can see the parallels from afar. The film works despite that.

I, too, have a certain reluctance to be immediately drawn into a film, especially if it's a tearjerker or attempts to be. This one didn't take long to navigate through my defenses. And even for those whose reluctance is more potent than mine, the movie has a way around that... it contains actual footage of the events depicted in the film. From Winter's rescue to the prosthetic tail to the scores of crippled kids who drew inspiration and were giddy with excitement upon touching the miracle mammal. Yep, this story is real. As is happiness. And hope.

NOTE: The movie is offered in most theatres in both 3D and 2D. I viewed the 2D version. I can't imagine I would have found the 3D version more enriching. Either way, the experience is worth it.

* * * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Killer Elite"

Runtime:1 hr. 40 min.

Rated R for strong violence, language and some sexuality/nudity

Cast: Jason Statham, Clive Owen, Robert De Niro, Yvonne Strahovski, Dominic Purcell, Adelwale Akinnuoye-Agbaje

Director: Gary McKendry

There's nothing really awful about "Killer Elite" yet there's nothing really great about it, either. The movie is competent enough; just not terribly interesting. It prefers motion over emotion and viewer interest. In the end, what does that really leave us with?

The story is supposedly based on truth. The film makes a point of telling us this, but doesn't seem too caught up in proving its veracity. (The title of the book upon which the movie is based was "The Feather Men" but the filmmakers, I imagine, didn't hesitate to scrap that possible title for the more macho-sounding "Killer Elite" even though it might invite confusion with Sam Peckinpah's film of the same name.)

Jason Statham plays Danny, a hired assassin who quits the business after executing a target before the innocent eyes of the man's child. He retires to Australia, renovates a home and takes up with an extremely cute Aussie (Yvonne Strahovski) who could cure any lifelong hit man from an addiction to blood lust. It's only when Danny's longtime mentor, Hunter (Robert De Niro) is held hostage by an exiled sheik (Rodney Afif) that our protagonist is forced to re-enter the killing scene. To free Hunter, Danny must locate three SAS soldiers who participated in the execution of the sheik's sons as part of a war to procure oil, force them to confess to the killings on tape, then dispose of them. To accomplish the task, Danny reassembles his old team, including a skilled marksman named Davies (Dominic Purcell) and an explosives expert named Meier (Aden Young).

The subsequent hits capture the attention of Spike Logan (Clive Owen), a former SAS agent forced into early retirement after losing an eye in the field. He is contracted out as an enforcer of sorts for a secret society of ex-SAS who call themselves "The Feather Men" because, if I understood correctly, their touch is sooo light. (They now engage in various activities, many of which are illegal. It's all kind of murky.) Spike took such enormous pride in his days as an SAS agent, to the point where he knows about some of the illegal activities of the Feather Men yet remains loyal. It affords him a way to get back into the field. A showdown between Danny and Spike is inevitable.

I don't mind stories based on truth, but I grow tired of films that mold themselves with overly derivative and cliched elements, then attempt to justify it by falling back on the supposed non-fiction origins of the story. This one runs the cliche gamut... a hit man with a heart of gold, an exasperated lover who can't understand his double life, a job that goes wrong, and so on. Oh, but you can't criticize it 'cause it's based on truth! Yeah, okay... and "Moneyball" could have been a sleep-inducing docudrama involving nothing but numbers and statistics, but the filmmakers there found the humanity in the story and made a magnificent picture. Sorry, but "based on truth" isn't a sufficient excuse for embracing cliche.

I sense Jason Statham is capable of much greater acting range, yet I fear at this point we'll never get an opportunity to find out. All his roles seem to be merging into one. Robert De Niro is always a welcome sight, yet his role here is too insignificant to make much of an impact. Unless he owed a fellow cast member or crewman a favor, I'm not sure what he's doing in this film. Clive Owen is the most fun to watch; his fiery intensity and unbridled loyalty to "the cause" elevates the scenes he occupies.

I don't know. Action aficionados might like the movie. It just didn't do much for me. The characters spend so much time globetrotting and pulling double-crosses on each other that my interest eventually wore out. It's an admirable effort to make something more "substantial" than your typical throwaway action pic. Sadly, it's no more interesting.

* *  out of  * * * *  stars

"Abduction"

Runtime:1 hr. 46 min.

Rated PG-13 for sequences of intense violence and action, brief language, some sexual content and teen partying

Cast: Taylor Lautner, Alfred Molina, Antonique Smith, Maria Bello, Jason Isaacs, Sigourney Weaver, Lily Collins 

Director: John Singleton

"Abduction" is a movie on life-support.  The filmmakers are trying with maddening desperation to take the material seriously, when the material itself is begging (and I mean begging) to be ridiculed.

Or at least moderately self-mocking.  Or just fast-paced throughout.  There's one scene that does work.  It occurs as the villain's henchmen arrive at the doorstep of the young hero's suburban home, break-in through the front door and assault his mother.  With little hesitation, both mother and father immediately unload a torrent of punches, kicks, head-butts and we see they are no ordinary parents.  It's a skillfully staged action scene that, for one mere moment anyway, made me sit up and take notice.  Unfortunately, the sleep-inducing scenes leading up to that and the ones scattered about sporadically after managed to suck any potential enjoyment I might have taken from the experience.

The movie stars Taylor Lautner as Nathan, a high school outcast (uh-huh) who feels like he's been living someone else's life.  It's hard for him to explain, but his parents feel like total strangers to him, he has bouts of uncontrollable rage, and is tormented by recurring nightmares involving a woman singing him a lullaby before her demise.  Could his parents be impostors?  Nathan meets regularly with a shrink (Sigourney Weaver) who offers up some strange advice that flies in the face of conventional psychoanalysis (hmmm) and to top it all off, he's too shy to make a move on his cute neighbor, Karen (Lily Collins).

One night, while working on a school assignment together, Karen comes across a website that gives vital information on missing children and has an age-enhancement feature.  To his shock, one of the missing children, when aged, looks exactly like Nathan.  The coincidences are simply too strange to ignore.  He badgers his mother (Maria Bello) to come clean, and she finally confesses that she and his father (Jason Isaacs) are indeed not his real parents.  Of course, soon after comes the aforementioned assault which sends both Nathan and Karen on the run.  They find themselves pursued by a foreign special ops assassin (Michael Nyqvist) and a tenacious CIA agent (Alfred Molina), both of whom are seeking the same thing.  Nathan's life can only be retained by solving the mystery surrounding his very existence.

The screenplay by Shawn Christensen has its share of flaws, but the bigger problem is that an action thriller with a seventeen-year-old protagonist is an awfully hard sell... even for a member of the "Twilight" cast.  The only way a movie like this can work is if the pedal is kept firmly pressed to the floor.  Director John Singleton is a competent action movie technician.  His mistake here is slowing the pace in an apparent effort to make a Serious Drama and focus on a teen romance better served in Twilight-land.  Decelerating the pace gives us time to ponder such implausibilities as how the protagonists are able to trek from Virginia to Nebraska to Pennsylvania in the span of a single afternoon.  Or how the hero arranged to have a loaded pistol smuggled into a major league baseball stadium and taped to the bottom of a seat, and how the villain managed to swipe it from an adjacent seat even as his hands never left his lap.  Or how the movie is called "Abduction" when there is no abduction in the film.  At all.

I have nothing against Taylor Lautner, but I doubt he'll ever be associated with a vast acting range.  He does what he can.  Lily Collins follows up her role as the plucky sister in "The Blind Side" with her role as the plucky damsel-in-distress in "Priest" and plays the plucky sidekick here.  The road to typecasting is shorter than actors realize.  Sigourney Weaver embodies her role like someone who knows the material isn't working.  She has a verbal exchange late in the movie that is truly painful to watch.  I felt bad for her.  Alfred Molina comes off the least scathed, if only because he has a knack for being able to sell the unsellable. 

Singleton has gone from helming powerful dramas that clearly originated in his heart and soul ("Boyz 'n the Hood," "Poetic Justice") to directing more modest action pics ("2 Fast 2 Furious").  "Abduction" seems like an attempt to bridge the two.  He wants to take this material more seriously than it deserves.  I hope he finds his way back to projects that ignite his passion.  He does that with his next effort and I'll gladly eat every word written here.

* 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Moneyball"

Runtime:2 hr. 6 min.

Rated PG-13 for some strong language

Cast: Brad Pitt, Jonah Hill, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Robin Wright, Stephen Bishop

Director: Bennett Miller

The cinematic sports arena is one of few places where we can truly love a tragic figure.  Not feel sorry for them, but genuinely love their flaws and forever root for their success.  Such is the case with Billy Beane.  One of the hottest baseball projects fresh out of high school, Beane was ultimately drafted by the New York Mets and offered a contract.  His dilemma was that he was also accepted to Stanford University on a joint baseball-football scholarship, and could not both attend college and play pro ball.  Team management officials sat in his kitchen and ultimately sold him on the idea that while an element of risk was involved in the decision (as is the case with all major decisions), this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.  The only problem with once in a lifetime opportunities is they don't take into account the remainder of one's lifetime and how one would cope should he come out on the wrong side of that risk.

Beane made his decision, took the money, and joined the Mets organization.  But, as what often happens in pro sports, he simply never panned out in the big leagues.  There was no substance addiction holding him back nor a catastrophic injury that prematurely ended his career... there was no real explanation for his ineffectiveness against tougher competition.  After bouncing around from team to team, he finally made the decision to surrender his playing days to become a scout.  He did this, it would seem, as a form of punishment.  Not just for himself and his failure as a pro, but for the entire scout system who, we sense, he holds responsible for instilling in him a false confidence he never earned. 

Based upon the book by Michael Lewis, “Moneyball” is set primarily during the 2002 baseball season.  Beane is the general manager of the Oakland A’s.  The previous year, they had come up just one game short against the post 9/11 darling New York Yankees in the American League Division Series and all the radio talk involved the unfortunate inevitability that star players like Jason Giambi and Johnny Damon would be jumping ship for higher salaries in bigger markets.  The story is about how Beane was forced to field a winning team with a miniscule payroll by studying the analytical principles of Bill James’ sabermetrics.  The movie involves statistics and the classic underdog, but at the center is Beane himself.  Brad Pitt plays him with charm, wit, melancholy, and a free-wheeling voracity to turn the tables on a seemingly unfair system.  He practically stumbled into scouting, turned to unorthodox measures in desperation and, in at least some eyes, changed the way the game is viewed.

“There are rich teams, and there are poor teams.  And then there’s fifty feet of crap.  And then there’s us,” Beane explicates to his scouting department after listening to the group discuss such mundane qualities as whether a certain player has a good-looking swing or may have confidence issues indicated by an unattractive girlfriend.  “You guys are talking like we’re looking for Fabio.  We have got to think differently.”  While on a trip to Cleveland to discuss trade possibilities with GM John Hart, Beane notices an unassuming young kid whispering advice during the meeting.  He tracks the kid down later to find out his deal.  This is Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), and he works as a “special assistant” for the Tribe.  (The character is fictitious, but is based on real-life front office assistant Paul DePodesta.)  He’s a Yale graduate with an economics degree and a love of baseball… and especially Bill James’ theories on player value being determined by statistical analysis.  (“Your goal shouldn’t be to buy players.  Your goal should be to buy wins, and in order to do that you need to buy runs.”)  Beane lures Peter away from the Indians, and utilizing the sabermetrics approach to analysis, they compile a list of affordable players that just might make a winning team. 

This obviously doesn’t sit well with the scouts, some of whom have silently resented Beane for years as they have most likely detected a disdain for the scouting profession.  Nor does it sit well with manager Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who is in the final year of his contract and is forced to accept the new acquisitions, which he begrudgingly does though doesn’t start the players Beane wants him to.  His actions, though, are bred more from pragmatism than antagonism.  (“I don’t want to go fifteen rounds on this, Billy,” he calmly tells Beane.  “The card is mine, and I’m going to run the team in a way that I can explain in job interviews this winter.”  He makes a pretty salient point.)

The film was directed by Bennett Miller (“Capote”) and the script adaptation was by Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin, two virtually can’t miss Hollywood screenwriters.  This is a supremely well-made movie.  It might seem strange that a film about sports statistics is as involving as this one is, but the filmmakers accomplish here what Sorkin and David Fincher did with “The Social Network.”  The characters and their motivations are far more fascinating than their accomplishments, though said accomplishments did make many sit up and take notice.  The heart and soul of the movie isn’t the success of the team, but the bittersweet saga of Billy Beane himself… a man forever tortured by unrealized dreams who sadly believes that only in changing the game itself can personal restitution be attained.

While there are arguments on both sides as to whether sabermetrics does work, it’s worth noting (as the movie does) that the Boston Red Sox did win their first World Series incorporating the philosophy championed by Beane in Oakland.  That happened two years after Beane turned down owner John W. Henry’s offer to be general manager for the Sox.  It’s also a sad irony of sorts that low payroll teams like the 2003 world champion Florida Marlins and the 2008 American League champion Tampa Bay Rays have enjoyed more success than Beane’s Oakland A’s.  But what I think makes Beane an endearingly tragic figure is that personal successes wouldn’t calm the demons that continue to haunt him.  His redemption doesn’t come on the field, but in a scene at the very end as he’s driving down a desolate highway.  He puts a CD in; it’s from his daughter, who loves him unreservedly but senses his pain.  A familial love letter in the form of a serenade spills from the speakers.  As his daughter’s lovely voice fills the car, we’re reminded that success can seem miles away, but salvation is always within reach.


* * * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"The Hedgehog"

Runtime:1 hr. 38 min.

Not Rated

Cast: Josiane Balasko, Garance LeGuillermic, Togo Igawa, Anne Brochet, Ariane Ascaride, Vladimir Yordanoff, Sarah LePicard, Jean-Luc Porraz, Gisele Casadesus, Mona Heftre, Samuel Chache, Valerie Karsenti, Stephan Wojtowicz

Director: Mona Achache

What a charmer this film is. Darkness and innocence are certainly not an unusual cinematic combination, but can be tricky to pull off. Twenty-something director Mona Achache has meshed the two quite well in her feature film debut.

The movie is a sweet observation of self-discovery. Dysfunction and isolation play a role here, as the story focuses on two inhabitants of an upscale Paris apartment building... the aging, frumpy, seemingly-cantankerous super whose social internment is self-imposed, and a soon-to-be-twelve-year-old girl whose cloistered existence is the result of familial dysfunction. This isn't necessarily a deep movie, but profundity can sometimes be the offspring of a pretentious mind. The story is essentially an awakening of perspective, and alterations to one's outlook needn't be deep to be life-changing.

Paloma Josse (Garance Le Guillermic) plans to take her own life on her twelfth birthday. She tells us this via a film camera handed down by her father that she uses to document the reasons behind her decision. She's not some outwardly volatile kid devoid of perspective, but a precocious girl with too much of it. She sees the fishbowl existence her life will inevitably become, and wants no part of it. (Notice the way she lifts her glasses above her head to film with the camera, then immediately pulls them down when she's done... this is a girl determined not to miss a beat.) She is dismissed by her father, ridiculed by her sister, while her psychoanalyzed and over-medicated mother talks more lovingly to her plants than to her. Paloma is not fraught with emotion over her decision; she's at peace with it.

One morning, an elderly tenant in the building is found deceased. Paloma films as the body is wheeled from the apartment. This is a crucial scene, as Paloma only connects with the idea of death at this point; not with the life that came before it. Indeed, the only person shedding a tear is her mother, but such emotions mean little when they're a dime a dozen and shed by a perpetually-medicated matron.

Paloma's keen observations soon lead to Miss Michele (Josiane Balasko), the building super who's perceived as a second-class citizen by the inhabitants. To most, the extent of social interaction with Miss Michele is demanding that she clean or fix various things in the building. And yet the woman doesn't seem to miss pleasant conversation; she fulfills her duties, but feels no obligation to warm up to those making a request. She keeps to herself, favoring classic literature over simple conversation. Paloma is fascinated, most notably by Miss Michele's seemingly effortless ability to remain hidden. She compares her existence to that of a hedgehog... prickly on the outside but refined on the inside.

That sentiment is shared by the kind-hearted Japanese widower Kakuro Ozu (Togo Igawa) who has taken up residence in the recently-vacated apartment. Upon meeting Miss Michele, Kakuro instantly senses her love of literature and manages to seize her attention by quoting "Anna Karenina." (Tolstoy is Miss Michele's favorite author; she named her cat Leo.) He is persistent in his interest though she is reluctant... not so much from previous heartbreak (though she did experience it) but from too many years of self-imposed isolation.

The movie takes place exclusively within the confines of the apartment building, yet never feels too narrow or restricted in scope. The understated, shadowy cinematography and production design offer up an atmosphere both limited in joy yet sated with middling comfort. We can see how tenants could spend a life of acceptable repose here without experiencing the slightest bout of unbridled happiness.

Both Garance Le Guillermic and Josiane Balasko are successful at engaging our interest without evoking our pity. That's critical to the story's success. Miss Michele may be unfairly dismissed by others, but her ability to love again is in her hands alone. And to call Paloma suicidal is a bit of a misnomer. She's not tortured to a point of pity; she just needs an adjustment of outlook.

The film contains moments of both sweetness and tragedy. (Melancholia is built in to stories like this.) At the conclusion is the reality that perspectives aren't set in stone, and are inventions of our own being. Changes to our lives are gifts we give to others. Changes in our perspectives are gifts we give to ourselves.

* * *  out of  * * * *  stars
 

"Higher Ground"

Runtime:1 hr. 49 min.

Rated R for some language and sexual content

Cast: Joshua Leonard, Norbert Leo Butz, Michael Chernus, Vera Farmiga, McKenzie Turner, Donna Murphy, John Hawkes

Director: Vera Farmiga

Corinne so desperately wants to believe.

Contrary to how it may be perceived, "Higher Ground" does not hang religion from a meat hook and begin hurling punches. That's not its goal. The story is of a devout Christian who turned to Spirituality in a time of great need, loves her Faith, adores her children, embraces the fellow members of her congregation, but slowly begins to question the meaning of certain events--both past and present--as an oddly inconsolable emptiness begins to find its way into her soul as the years pass. It's no one's fault, and she knows that. Just an inexplicably persistent void. ("I try inviting God in," she confesses at a service. "I leave the porch light on, but sometimes He just doesn't show up.")

There have been some who have denounced the film as an assault against organized religion. I disagree, and if you've seen the movie and still believe this to be true, ask yourself one question... are the personal reservations Corinne has at the end really so out-of-whack and inconceivable that even the hardest core follower couldn't, at one time or another, have felt something similar? If you're answer is still yes, then I question... if not your Faith, then your honesty with yourself.

True, the movie does contain a few hardcore believers that do fit a certain stereotype, yet even in those instances, the film doesn't cut them down like bowling pins in some misguided attempt at secular purgation. Consider a scene late in the film, when Corinne speaks to the congregation. A preacher, who believes women aren't learned enough to address the fellow members in speech, attempts--as he's done countless times before--to interrupt her. She stands her ground, but does so while showing the misguided evangelist a surprising amount of respect.

Corinne is played by Vera Farmiga, who also directed. She's working from a script by Tim Metcalfe ("Kalifornia") and Carolyn S. Briggs, whose memoir "This Dark World" is the source material upon which the film is based. I don't believe Farmiga's decision to make this her directorial debut is bred from personal spiritual ambivalence; more from her well-documented frustration with the plethora of mundane, unsubstantial, and marginalized roles for women in mainstream Hollywood. (Her disgust was the topic of a New York Times cover story in 2006, where she confessed to setting the offending scripts aflame.)

What I imagine appealed to Farmiga was the freedom of a lead female character to question things that don't have answers and pursue avenues of existence that may not lead to happy endings. The story has an open-ended conclusion filled with doubt, but forever yoked with doubt is the existence of hope--however small--and the possibility of happiness. The story spans decades, and follows Corinne as she matures, where we see that doubt has always played a role in her life and always will. From her teenage romance with a budding musician (played as a teen by Boyd Holbrook and later by Joshua Leonard, far removed from his "Blair Witch" days) to their wedding upon getting pregnant, to their impulse decision to surrender to the highest Spiritual ideals following a near-death bus accident, and into Corinne's day-to-day marital existence as she struggles with being subservient and embracing the "reason" behind certain tragic events that have recently befallen her and her loved ones. She detests her doubts, but there is a subconscious part of her that is aware that those reservations are too important to ignore; they've led her to this point and pondering their meaning--no matter how painful--is the only way forward.

I am not agnostic, but I do reject fundamentalist Christianity. (Not the Christianity part; the fundamentalist portion.) Nothing in life is meant to stay in its rudimentary incarnation. Everything is evolutionary in nature, though fire and brimstone fundamentalists would have me killed for uttering such a sentiment. (I'm trusting here that objectors to evolution in any form don't still nourish themselves by sucking breast milk from their mothers' teat.) When hardcore Christians arrive at my doorstep asking to speak to me about Jesus, I send them away immediately. Not because I despise them, but because my days are hectic enough already, and my God-given time management skills simply will not afford it.

But my rangebound spiritual credence is neither here nor there. The movie is about one woman's crisis of Faith, and that alone is not an attack on religion. So what do we take away from a film about doubt? I suppose that doubt is never wrong... in any capacity. And as it pertains to Spirituality... for my money, those with the greatest doubts also harbor the greatest conviction. I, like everyone, have experienced doubt and witnessed loved ones wading through their own quagmire of spiritual dubiety. I have no answers for their pain, but I'm fortunate to realize that answers aren't mine to give. I see both their anguish and their Spiritual resolve, and love them all the more for it. I am quite blessed.

* * * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars
 

"I Don't Know How She Does It"

Runtime: 1 hr, 29 min.

Rated PG-13 for sexual references throughout

Cast: Sarah Jessica Parker, Pierce Brosnan, Kelsey Grammer, Christina Hendricks, Olivia Munn, Greg Kinnear 

Director: Douglas McGrath

Here we have a movie that is pleasant enough in a lot of respects, and only hampered by the fact that a comedy involving the day-to-day machinations of an overworked wife and mother has been explored to death in the movies.  The film offers no new insights and is too lightweight to recommend, but it does charm from time to time along the way.

The one surprise that the movie offers is how seemingly aware it is that it's not going to impart any real insight.  Its best quality is that it doesn't overreach, choosing instead to focus on the humor.  (I know that sounds like the most backhanded of compliments, but I assure you I'm not trying to be sarcastic.)  "I Don't Know How She Does It" is smarter than a lot of comedies and benefits from a talented cast.  It doesn't leave enough of an imprint to be effective, but it's nowhere near as bad as the paltry 17% approval rating on rottentomatoes.com would have you believe.

Based upon the book by Allison Pearson, the movie stars Sarah Jessica Parker as Kate Reddy, the aforementioned wife/mother/full-time employee at an upscale Boston investment firm.  We see how overworked she is right from the start as her nights are filled not with sleep, but with trepidation over her "list" of things to accomplish the following day... things like getting her kids to school, putting the finishing touches on a work proposal, taking the family car in for servicing.  ("Shouldn't that be on Richard's list?" she wonders while glancing over at her all-too-peacefully asleep husband.  "Ah, who am I kidding... he doesn't have a list.")  Her biggest concern at the moment is coming up with something good for her daughter's bake sale.  For Kate, the most viable option is purchasing a pie from the store, then imbuing it with just enough imperfections to make it seem homemade.  Fortunately, Kate's best friend (Christina Hendricks) is also a mother who manages to "trump" her bake sale ineffectiveness with an even more lame contribution.  (She accompanies Kate with a bowl of unset Jell-o nestled in her armpit.)

For the most part, Kate seems to be balancing things okay, despite the concerns of her mother-in-law (Jane Curtin) who wonders aloud if her two-and-a-half-year-old grandson would be speaking now if Kate spent more time in his presence.  Her husband (Greg Kinnear) is supportive and kind, though they do have the usual disagreements.  ("Husbands and wives view child care differently," Kate tells the audience in one of many voice-over narrations. "Men see it as money going out that could better be spent elsewhere, while women see a person who knows exactly what kind of blanket her two-year-old likes best."  Some things you can't put a price tag on.)  Kate's life shifts into full-throttle upon being given an opportunity to help orchestrate a corporate merger proposal with highly-renowned New York City power broker Jack Abelhammer (Pierce Brosnan).  The assignment would be a huge step in her career, though it could come at an exorbitant cost to her family's happiness.  Kate does have the benefit of a savvy, hardworking, tireless assistant named Momo (Olivia Munn) yet she must fight off her chief business rival, a smarmy twit named Bunce (Seth Meyers).

Parker is a deft comedienne with impeccable comic timing, though some of the bits of physical comedy do seem a little over-the-top.  One involves an embarrassing moment where Kate is caught "adjusting" her undergarments before a teleconferencing screen while not realizing someone is watching on the other end (how could she not see that one coming?) while another is the result of a lice scare just prior to a big meeting (aren't they all?).

The better bits involve various testimonials from other characters, none of whom have the slightest idea how hard it is to juggle the responsibilities of home and work... even though all are perfectly willing to offer their own would-be insights.  The most notable ones involve Olivia Munn's Momo who wonders why Kate calls her children during lunch "when she knows she's supposed to be working," Seth Meyers' Bunce who regurgitates chauvinistic crap while lamenting over his own perceived "double-standards" for men in the workplace, and Busy Philipps as a rival mother who imparts her own brand of wisdom from atop a stairmaster.  (I did find myself wondering about the origins of said testimonials.  Was someone making a documentary about Kate herself?)

There's nothing objectionable here, but nor is there enough to recommend.  The movie basically ends where it started.  Along the way there are a few laughs and I did find myself smiling through stretches, even as I knew nothing would remain in my memory for long.  The movie may appeal to some, though it didn't play--to me, anyway--like a must-see.

* * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars