The Scoop: Rob Marshall tries to recapture some of the magic of "Chicago" with "Nine," the film version of Arthur Kopit and Maury Yeston's 1982 Broadway musical, but is ultimately sabotaged by the thin source material.
At the center of the story is Daniel Day-Lewis playing Guido Contini, a world famous Italian film director who deals with personal and professional crises by turning to the many women in his life. If that plot sounds familiar, that's because it is swiped wholesale from Federico Fellini's much better "8 1/2."
The women who parade through Contini's life and fantasies -- each offering their brutally honest advice while belting out big musical numbers -- are his wife (Marion Cotillard), mistress (Penélope Cruz), mother (Sophia Loren), leading lady (Nicole Kidman), costume designer/confidant (Judi Dench), fondly remembered first sex partner (Fergie) and a novice American reporter (Kate Hudson). Cotillard and Cruz really steal the show here (which isn't hard to do against Day-Lewis' mopey screen presence) and Dench has some nice moments as well. Kidman is bland, Hudson is out of her league, Fergie doesn't do much but sing and dance (thankfully), and frankly I'm not sure how the glorious Loren got through this with a straight face.
The songs are fun but insubstantial, except for Cotillard's great "Take It All," which was written specifically for the film. However, Marshall, cinematographer Dion Beebe and choreographer John Deluca redeem even the weakest numbers with some energetic stagings.
But besides Cotillard and Cruz, the real stars of the show are art directors Simon Lamont, Peter Findley and Phil Harvey, and costume designer Colleen Atwood who create a vibrant, detailed and glamorous simulation of mod 1960s Rome. "Nine" may not have much going on under the surface, but thanks to them it's wonderful to look at.
Best Bit: Cotillard laying it all out for the Oscar-nominated "Take It All."
Side Note: Oddly enough, the play's title song "Nine" was one of several musical numbers cut from the film.
Companion Viewing: "8 1/2" (1963), if you want to see this sort of thing done right the first time.
The Scoop: In "The House Bunny," Anna Faris is great as a Playboy bunny turned sorority house mother, but the rest of the film needs a lot of help.
Faris plays Shelley, an aspiring centerfold who gets kicked out of the Playboy Mansion and is taken in as a house mother by the nerdy, awkward sisters of Zeta Alpha Zeta. She helps them have their sorority house by giving them makeovers and making them popular, while they show her that there's more to life than being an airheaded nude model.
The script from Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith (based on an idea by Faris) has plenty of good one-liners, but the beyond that it is clunky and filled with just about every cliche you can imagine. There are some good performances, particularly from Faris, Emma Stone and Kat Denning. But they can't outweigh the wooden presence of Hugh Hefner (as himself, of course) and Tyson Ritter (the lead singer of All-American Rejects). Nor can it outweigh the fact that no film with a PG-13 rating is able to get to the truly good material to be found in either sorority houses or the Playboy Mansion. And let's not get into the questionable gender politics.
In fact, "The House Bunny" feels less like a contemporary story and more like a throwback to the popular comedies of 30 years ago. (It's no coincidence that the sorority's name is abbreviated ZAZ.) But unfortunately it falls just a bit short of being worthy of their company. Yet it is a little fluffy, mindless fun for a rainy day of movie watching -- if you can get past the premise that a woman's highest goal should be to meet a guy.
Best Line: "Do you know where the crapper is? I have to do a very mysterious thing in there."
Side Note: Celebrity offspring alert! Tom Hanks' boy Colin plays Shelley's love interest, Oliver, and Rumer Willis (daughter of Bruce Willis and Demi Moore) plays Joanne, the Zeta girl who won't give up her back brace.
Companion Viewing: "National Lampoon's Animal House" (1978) and "Clueless" (1995).
The Scoop: Naïve small town girl moves to the big city looking for fame, only to come face-to-face with the harsh realities of trying to make it in the big time. But thanks to a new love and some quirky friends she meets along the way, she finds her niche in an unexpected place and finally succeeds in living her dreams.
Yeah, we've all heard this tired tale -- quite literally -- a thousand times before, but for some reason Jerry Bruckheimer thought we needed to hear it again in "Coyote Ugly."
Bruckheimer produced this twaddle from writer Gina Wendkos ("The Princess Diaries") and director David McNally ("Kangaroo Jack") about aspiring songwriter Violet (Piper Perabo) who moves to New York City to make it big in the music industry. After getting doors slammed in her face all over town, she has a too-cute meeting with Australian hunk Kevin (Adam Garcia) and finds work with gruff Coyote Ugly bar owner Lil (Maria Bello). The bar's big attraction is the hot women (Bridget Moynahan, Izabella Miko, Tyra Banks) dancing it up on top of the bar and giving the male customers plenty of attitude. Of course, all this helps Violet get over her stage fright and live her dreams -- which apparently just consists of selling one mediocre song to LeAnn Rimes.
There are only two reasons to watch this movie (unless you're a bad movie aficionado, in which case you'll find hundreds of reasons). The first is the jiggling women on the bar top (if you're into that sort of thing). The bar sequences, for all their predictability, are actually staged pretty well and inject the only sort of life or energy the film has. As soon as the narrative steps outside the bar, the whole movie just deflates like a balloon on the morning after the party.
The second reason is the performance of John Goodman as Violet's over-protective father. Like every other character, Bill is a one-dimensional caricature, but in Goodman's hands he transcends the source material and becomes closer to a fully-realized person than the audience has any right to expect. Goodman polishes this turd like the solid professional he is.
But other than that, it's a wash. You might enjoy some of it along the way, but you'll hate yourself in the morning.
Best Bit: Ellen Cleghorne's cameo as the music company receptionist.
Side Note: The real life Coyote Ugly bar was opened in New York in 1993 by Liliana Lovell, who was the basis of Bello's character in the movie. After the success of the film, Lovell franchised the operation. At its height, the chain boasted 19 bars across the United States. Fifteen are still in operation today, but that includes three in Europe.
The Scoop: The stretch from about 1967 to 1971 was a hotbed for innovative music, and it was the heyday of the festival concert. But it was also the heyday of the concert film, and every festival worth its name – Woodstock, Monterey Pop, Big Sur, even Altamont – had a film attached. The result of this huge archive of film, of course, is a valuable time capsule of that era. “Festival Express” is a latter-day addition to that genre.
In the summer of 1970, a short festival tour was organized across Canada, featuring the Grateful Dead, The Band, Janis Joplin, Buddy Guy, Ian & Sylvia, the Flying Burrito Brothers, Bonnie & Delaney, Sha Na Na and Mashmakhan. (Traffic and Ten Years After also were part of the tour, but don't appear in the film due to a conflict over music rights.) Everyone on the bill traveled together by train across country. It was an arrangement that was clearly a hit with the performers, who created a traveling commune, spending the long days living, eating and, most importantly, jamming together. And the film crew was there for all of it.
The tour itself was a financial disaster, not just because of the expense of the train, but also because it was dogged by protests and bad press along the way from kids who demanded that all the shows be free. The business side wound up in chaos, which is why all the film footage of the tour ended up on the shelf for more than 30 years. Which is a shame, because the footage is fantastic.
With the benefit of three decades of hindsight, director Bob Smeaton includes new interviews with the promoters and many of the performers to put the footage in context. But at times the interviews intrude too much. The film is at its best when the footage from 1970 speaks for itself. The live performances are uniformly excellent, as the musicians were obviously energized by the creative cauldron inside that train (which a couple of the interviewees describe as “heaven”). But the real treat is the train footage, which is full of great jamming from a host of talented musicians, and which also offers an extensive offstage glimpse of the people involved – something the other classic concert films of the era can’t match.
Especially poignant are the performances by Joplin. She was at the top of her game, and because she died shortly after the tour, these are among her last ever performances.
Regardless of whether you’re a fan of the era, “Festival Express” is still a must-see if you’re a fan of live music. Plus, there’s lots of rail footage too if you’re a fan of train movies, so everyone wins!
Best Bit: The liquor run in Saskatoon.
Side Note: The guitar used by Jerry Garcia during "C.C. Rider" is the same one that was played by George Harrison during the Beatles' rooftop farewell performance the year before.
Companion Viewing: "Woodstock" (1970) and "Monterey Pop" (1968).
The Scoop: So why waste your time on this? What’s the point of bothering with a made-for-cable, third generation live action adaptation of a hack cartoon, which is squarely aimed at tweens? Really, why bother?
Well, it turns out that this disposable entertainment has a thing or two to recommend it.
A Cartoon Network original, “The Mystery Begins” is the third live action version of “Scooby Doo,” following two big budget big screen stinkers. It’s a prequel, telling the story of how the gang got together at Coolsville High School and solved their first mystery together.
Unadoptable shelter dog Scooby (voiced by Frank Welker) accidentally gets sprung from his cage and runs off in search of someone who’ll take him in. He wanders through a cemetery at night, where he sees two ghosts rising from their graves. In a panic, he runs right through the basement bedroom window of high school burnout Shaggy (Nick Palatas) who naturally takes a liking to him and tries to sneak him into school the next day in human clothes. This winds up causing a free-for-all in the school bus, which eventually lands Shaggy in detention with football team captain Fred (Robbie Amell), drama club diva Daphne (Kate Melton) and brainy geek Velma (Hayley Kiyoko). Of course, the ghosts pick that exact time to disrupt the school pep rally, and the chase is on.
The “mystery” is just as paper-thin as you’d expect, both from a “Scooby Doo” story and a tween movie. But it’s the small, fresh details that keep this from being a complete waste.
Most intriguing is the dynamic between the four kids which -- not only because it grows out of detention hall, but also because of the way it develops the relationships between members of four different high school social cliques – owes a big debt to “The Breakfast Club.” It’s actually hand led quite well for tween fluff, and the cast nails it with gusto. This is where the real story is, not in the formulaic ghost hunting shenanigans.
The interesting upshot of this is that it makes the title character almost entirely irrelevant in his own movie. Unfortunately, director Brian Levant and writers Daniel Altiere and Steven Altiere try to compensate for this by making Scooby completely obnoxious, thrusting him into all sorts of situations where he isn’t needed, and making him the vehicle of lots of sophomoric, unfunny humor. That’s all bad enough, but to top it all off, the CGI work on Scooby is atrocious.
There are also some obligatory details, like the origins of the Mystery Machine (which is pretty much what you’d expect) and Scooby Snacks (which is actually a nice little twist. And Shaggy’s status as a flat-out stoner is hinted at even more strongly than before (but because this is still ostensibly children’s entertainment, he still can’t be shown for what he really is).
However, some entertaining new wrinkles are added. Like the fact that Shaggy is a few years older than the others and, thanks to being held back in school so much, is basically an adult still attending high school. Or the casting of Velma as an Asian.
However the biggest departure from the “Scooby” mythos is that the ghosts are actual undead spirits, and not mere mechanical tricks. But don’t feel too disoriented – the villain behind those vengeful spirits is straight out of the Hanna-Barbera playbook and even gets to deliver the signature “meddling kids” line after his capture. Because there are some classics you just don’t want to mess with.
Best Bit: The gang's ridiculously over-the-top undercover disguises -- Daphne as a goth, Fred in hip hop gear (think Brian Austin Green), Velma as a hot chick, and Shaggy and Scooby as trash cans.
Side Note: Welker is a veteran cartoon voice actor who has been working steadily since the 1960s. His roles include most of the Decepticons in the original "Transformers" series and numerous roles in "Tiny Toon Adventures" and "Animaniacs" -- not to mention playing Fred in the original "Scooby Doo" series.
Companion Viewing: The original Hanna Barbera cartoons from the early 1970s.
The Scoop: Can I cut to the chase here? This movie is a big old freakin' waste of time. As a serious horror/thriller, it's a complete pile of twaddle. As a campy bad movie laughfest, it has a few moments, but mostly fails at that too.
While on spring break in Cancun, a completely douchey womanizing film student cleverly named Adam (Robert Mann) meets a mysterious hottie cleverly named Lilith (Natalie Denise Sperl). When he returns home, she turns up at one of his parties and starts leaving corpses in her wake. Turns out she's a succubus, a female demon who consumes the souls of men. (In case you weren't tipped off to that by the title, it's literally spelled out for you in the movie. Literally. Because nothing says "tense climactic battle" like a little impromptu spelling bee.) Sperl isn't so bad as Lilith, and is even kind of sexy. But everything else about the movie is just plain wrong.
The brain child of writer/director Kim Bass (who got his start writing for "In Living Color," oddly enough) is completely amateurish on every level. The script is horrible and cliché-ridden, the direction and editing are muddled, and the acting is wooden at best. All the male actors look like they came out of the same cookie cutter from Pricks 'R' Us. And for a movie with a lot of sex in it, there's absolutely no nudity. You do get to see plenty of Mann's pasty, mole-filled back, though.
"Succubus: Hell Bent" is completely insulting to women, film students, ambulance drivers and most other intelligent people. Oh, and did I mention that there's a demonic fighter jet dogfight? Betcha weren't expecting that!
Save yourself and get out now!
Best Bit: Gary Busey's cameo as the whacked-out demon hunter. I'm not sure Busey knew he was really shooting a movie. Also look for really horrible cameos by David Keith, Lorenzo Lamas and Kelly Hu.
Side Note: Want a mythology lesson? Here are the real stories behind succubi and Lilith.
Take a Look: The trailer. You've got to love any movie in which the leads are the last two actors credited, and the first four combined have about 10 minutes of screen time, max:
The Scoop: Unlike “Bettie Page: Dark Angel,” this can be considered a true biopic of the iconic pinup queen. However, also unlike that film, “The Notorious Bettie Page” lacks a bit of sizzle.
Yet that’s not to say that Mary Harron’s film isn’t worth watching. Particularly exciting is Gretchen Mol’s performance in the title role. For all her fame and influence, Bettie Page is an idol who is frozen in amber for us. All we know of her comes from hundreds of still photographs and just a few film shorts, most of which are devoted more to particular fetishes rather than Bettie’s own considerable personality – and all of which came for just a short period of her life.
But Mol fills in the blanks wonderfully well. She bears a remarkable resemblance to Bettie and recreates the photogenic personality we know from all those pinups. But she also expands on that to bring to life a complex character who maintains a childlike innocence about her powerful sexuality, but who enjoys exercising it nonetheless. Plus, she’s not afraid to go the full monty with a refreshing exuberance.
The supporting cast -- which includes Chris Bauer as Irving Klaw, Lili Taylor as Paula Klaw, and David Straithairn as Sen. Estes Kefauver – is also excellent.
Also of note is the cinematography of Mott Hupfel. His rich black and white photography creates a gritty, noir-esque vision of 1950s New York that also faithfully recreates the look and feel of Page’s pinup work with the Klaws. For the Miami sequences, Hupfel switches to a brilliant, pastel-filled color palette that matches the sunny world of Bunny Yeager’s photos of Bettie.
So where’s the problem? Mostly it’s in the screenplay by Harron and Guinivere Turner, who also teamed up for "American Psycho." There is an evocative opening sequence introducing us to the world of 1950s adult bookstores, but the script quickly devolves from there into a clichéd naïve-country-girl-in-the-big-city take on Page’s pinup career. While we see all of the key moments in Bettie’s life from her start in modeling in New York in 1953 to her religious awakening in Miami in 1959, there is not depth or understanding to it. Also absent are all but a few hints of some of the darker, more extreme aspects of Page’s combustible sexuality.
Nowhere does the film really get under Bettie’s skin. So, consequently, it can’t get under the audience’s skin either. At the end of the film, Page remains just as much of a mystery to us as she was at the beginning, despite Mol’s best efforts to give us a glimpse at the real Bettie Page.
The film also avoids dealing with the mess of Page’s post-modeling life, which included evangelic missions, paranoid schizophrenia, an attempted murder trial, years in a psychiatric institution, followed by some messy copyright battles over her image in the 1990s. (She died in seclusion in 2008 at the age of 85). But that’s just as well, because that’s not the Bettie Page we want to remember.
We want to remember the Bettie staring back at us from all those classic pinup shots – energetic, confident and just as enticing to men as to women, generation after generation. “The Notorious Bettie Page” makes a spirited effort to capture that Bettie, but falls just a bit short.
Best Line: "I'm not ashamed. Adam and Eve were naked in the Garden of Eden, weren't they? When they sinned, they put on clothes."
Side Note: This film is filled with improper camera technique on the part of the actors playing the photographers. While most of the cameras being used are period accurate, the actors are just waving them around without any clue of how they were supposed to be handled.
Companion Viewing: "Bettie Page: Dark Angel" (2004) and "I Shot Andy Warhol" (1996).
The Scoop: Let's cut to the chase. Gavin Grazer and Joe Wein's film "Scorched" is just another one of those self-consciously quirky indie comedies that tries too hard to be clever for its own good.
In a nondescript California desert town (apparently named Desert, California), three disgruntled employees of the local bank each plot come up with their own plans to rob the bank, and execute their heists on the same weekend. There's Stewart (Paolo Costanzo) and his numbskull pal Max (David Krumholtz) who "borrow" $250,000 from the mini-vault to use on an all-or-nothing roulette bet in Las Vegas. Sheila (Alicia Silverstone) enlists new firefighter pal Max (Ivan Sergei) to empty out the ATMs to get back at her ex-boyfriend, the douchebag bank manager Rick (Joshua Leonard). And then there's Woody Harrelson in the role he was born to play -- Woods, the spaced-out desert rat assistant manager who wants to get revenge on infomercial con artist Mr. Merchant (John Cleese) by cleaning out his safe deposit box. Also mixed up in the shenanigans are new employee Doleman (Marcus Thomas) and his free-spirited pal Shmally (Rachel Leigh Cook).
The plot, which relies on such improbabilities as the banks lack of 24/7 video cameras and the fact that ducks live wild in the desert, plays out pretty much as you'd expect. The comedy is pretty half-baked, unless your idea of fun is watching Woody Harrelson try to hold his own while acting opposite various animals. And, except for Silverstone and Costanzo, everyone else pretty much mails it in.
Sure, there are worse ways to spend 90 minutes of your life. But there are also lots of better things you can do with your time than spending it on this well-meaning but forgettable trifle.
Best Bit: Jeffrey Tambor's cameo as the spaced-out bank executive.
Side Note: The horned toad Woods is talking to in the desert at the beginning is actually an Australian bearded dragon, which is not native to California.
The Scoop: Along with Marilyn, Elvis and James Dean, Bettie Page was one of the quintessential 1950s icons. She may not have gotten the acclaim during her own time that those others did, but that's only because she was the epitome of sexuality in that era -- a sexuality that the nation's moral guardians tried so hard to keep under wraps. But her fans wouldn't be deterred and for years after her abrupt retirement from modeling, they kept her legacy alive with pinup shots and film shorts hidden in dresser drawers and under mattresses until the world was ready for her re-emergence in the 1990s.
"Bettie Page: Dark Angel" is ostensibly a biopic, but only in the loosest sense. Produced by Cult Epics -- the current distributor of most of her film loops -- the movie is built around faithful recreations of some of Bettie's most infamous "lost" shorts. Interspersed with the recreations are scenes from her life during that period, with the focus squarely on her bondage work with Irving Klaw, although there is brief lip service paid to her shoots with Bunny Yeager. But these scenes have all the awkward writing, stilted acting and cardboard quality production values that you've come to expect from the non-sex scenes of your favorite old pornos.
So the results are uneven, to say the least. But luckily, you're probably not watching this movie for the dramatic scenes.
The recreations are campy fun and star Paige Richards not only is a dead ringer for Bettie, but also brings along her years of experience in softcore porn to really sell it. She doesn't have the same presence as Bettie, but no one could. She comes close, though, which goes a long way toward making this cheapo production watchable.
Best Bit: The kindergarten quality recreation of the Kefauver hearings.
Side Note: The theme song is by Chris Stein of Blondie. He was signed to do the whole score, but then backed out. The swinging burlesque score used in the film is by Danny B. Harvey and Zack Ryan.
Companion Viewing: "The Notorious Bettie Page" (2005).
The Scoop: One of the joys of seeing Shakespeare on stage, even after 400 years' worth of productions, is the range of experimentation that is still possible with the material, even if the risks don't always pay off. On film, however, the risks have traditionally been kept to a minimum, with most productions being set either in a generic 19th century European countryside, or in Elizabethan dress.
So, on that level, it's a breath of fresh air to watch Kenneth Branagh's take on "Love's Labour's Lost," which he stages as a 1930s movie musical. For all of Branagh's Shakespearean bonafides, it's a bold move to have the Bard's words broken up by musical numbers set to the songs of George Gershwin, Jerome Kern, Cole Porter and others. However, this is one experiment that falls flat.
But first, for the uninitiated, here's the story in a nutshell. The King of Naverre (Alessandro Nivola) and his three buddies (Matthew Lillard, Adrian Lester and Branagh) agree to give up the company of women for three years to devote themselves to their studies. However, the French princess (Alicia Silverstone) shows up on a diplomatic mission with her attendants (Natasha McElhone, Carmen Ejogo and Emily Mortimer). As you might guess, various wackiness ensues before a bittersweet ending. The play is one of Shakespeare's early comedies that doesn't carry the weight or beauty of his later, more famous work.
The biggest problem with the film is that Branagh's concept requires such wildly different skill sets from his cast that none of them can do it all. So, despite the presence of a talented ensemble, nothing quite hangs together. The actors are either good at the poetry (Branagh, McElhone and the wonderful old pro Richard Briers) or the song and dance (Lester and Nathan Lane, who seems to be channeling all four Marx Brothers). And then there are the unfortunate few (namely, Silverstone and Lillard) who can handle neither. As a result, every scene seems strained as everyone on screen is trying too hard to reach out of their comfort zone to deliver something they may not have training in. And then there's the performance of Timothy Spall as Don Armado, who chews the scenery into tiny pieces.
But for all of that, it is still a lovely film to look at, thanks to the art direction of Mark Raggett, the costumes by Anna Buruma and Alex Thomson's excellent cinematography. There are even a few good directorial touches from Branagh. It's not quite enough to offset the problems with the acting, but it's still good to see a play from outside the usual cinematic Shakespearean canon on the big screen, even if most of the text has been cut.
Best Bit: The best Shakespearean bit is Branagh's dynamite delivery of the "From women's eyes" soliloquy. The best musical bit is the Gene Kelly-ish sensuality and bravado of the "Let's Face the Music and Dance" number.
Side Note: Shakespeare's ending to "Love's Labour's Lost" is notoriously inconclusive, which is something Branagh addresses with a montage showing what happened to the characters after the end of the story. However, many scholars now believe that this play is just the first part of the story, which was finished by Shakespeare in a play called "Love's Labour's Won" that is now lost to history.
Companion Viewing: "Pennies From Heaven" (1981) and "Everybody Says I Love You" (1996).
The busy minions at Desuko World HQ are taking a well-deserved summer vacation, so in the meantime, enjoy these favorite posts from the past. [Originally published July 18, 2008]
The Scoop: One unintended consequence of the electronic media age has been a change in the way we experience classic (i.e., pre-20th century) literature. Now it's all about the adaptation. (Of course, these adaptations make sense for the filmmakers, who get cheap access to familiar material and don't have to deal with authors who demand royalties or protest changes in the script.) More and more, one's first encounter with Shakespeare or Dickens or countless other authors is through a film or television adaptation of one of their works. If audiences aren't rushing to the cineplex for their first tastes of these classics, they are getting them in the classroom -- teachers typically now accompany their reading assignments with screenings of films based on these works to help students better understand them. Shakespeare has now become inseparable from Olivier or Branagh, and Jane Austen from the starlet du jour.
All of which brings us to this version of "Dante's Inferno."
Italian poet Dante Alighieri's "Comedy" -- his epic tale of his journey through hell ("Inferno"), purgatory ("Purgatorio") and heaven ("Paradiso") under the tutelage of his idol, the Roman poet Virgil and Dante's beloved Beatrice -- is notoriously resistant to onscreen adaptation. Except for a couple perfunctory stabs from the silent era and a BBC miniseries from the 1980s, little straight adaptation has been done of the poem. More commonly, elements of the "Comedy" have been used as inspirations or jumping-off points for newer works. (One typical example is the 1935film "Dante's Inferno," a turgid morality play in which Spencer Tracy plays a carnival barker wrestling with the ethics of his profession. The attraction he shills for, a ride based on "Inferno," is shown in only a few scenes, primarily as a comment on the action of the main story.)
So give filmmakers Sean Meredith, Sandow Birk and Paul Zaloom credit for attempting a full adaptation of "Inferno." One reason adaptors have stayed away from Dante is his work's resistance to modernized spins on the material (something that has become a staple of filmed Shakespeare, for instance). But the threesome give it a try, mixing in modern situations and personalities with the arcane issues and obscure historical figures used by Dante. Credit should also go to them for doing it in the form of a puppet show.
In this version Dante (voiced by Dermot Mulroney) wakes up hung over in a seedy alley, not knowing how he got there. He his approached by Virgil (James Cromwell), who leads him down a sewer into the pit of hell, where they encounter pimps and whores, corporate malfeasance and urban decay to go along with the medieval horrors chronicled in the original.
The puppetwork, using paper figures that manage to be terrifically expressive, is wonderful, but many of the other creative choices fall flat. For every update that works (portraying the Maleboge demons as hypervigilant T.S.A. agents, or mounting Ulysses' story as a puppet show within a puppet show) there are a handful that don't (Lucifer's fondue pot, or the multiple references to the rock band Styx).
Pacing is a problem as well. By the film's halfway mark, Virgil and Dante have raced through the first seven pits of hell, then spend the last half in a leisurely stroll through the final two pits, including plenty of non-Dante tangents along the way. Also, purists may be offended that (spoiler alert!) Dante's trip through hell ends with him back on earth rather than preparing to scale the mountain of purgatory.
But in all it's an admirable effort to try to make a 700-year-old epic poem relevant to modern audiences. The somewhat basic approach may make it cringe-worthy for Dante aficionados. But that makes it ideal for use in a high school classroom, giving another generation an opening to understanding a monumental piece of literature.
Best Bit: The Pope John Paul II cameo.
Side Note: Zaloom is better known as Beakman from the TV show "Beakman's World."
The busy minions at Desuko World HQ are taking a well-deserved summer vacation, so in the meantime, enjoy these favorite posts from the past. [Originally published March 31, 2009]
The Scoop: When Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' "Watchmen" was released in 1985, it became a landmark in the emerging genre of graphic novels and has cast a long shadow. Not only did it enlarge the storytelling possibilities in the comics field, but its effects have also been felt in the larger popular culture, particularly the way films and television shows have handled superhero themes. It was also very much a product of its times, delving deep into the Cold War anxieties of the mid-1980s.
All of which make any sort of film version of "Watchmen" especially problematic. As written by David Hayter ("X-Men") and newcomer Alex Tse and directed by Zack Snyder ("300"), the film is full of thunder and excitement, but runs up against a few walls.
The story takes place in a darker, alternate version of 1985 America in which costumed adventurers and vigilantes are common place and, after their halcyon days in the 1940s, have become increasingly distrusted by the public for enforcing the oppresive policies of the U.S. government, led by Richard Nixon in his fifth term as president. Against the backdrop of escalating nuclear tensions between the U.S. and Soviet Union, the hero-turned-military-mercenary The Comedian is murdered. As the sociopathic vigilante Rohrshach tries to solve the crime, he and his former compatriots (including Nite Owl, Silk Spectre, Dr. Manhattan and Ozymandias) uncover corruption and a global power grab.
The novel's genius lies in its multi-layered storytelling, which is rich in symbolism, literary allusions and a wonderfully fleshed-out cast of supporting characters. The history of this alternate world is also richly detailed, providing a running commentary on the main story and rewarding careful attention. All these elements combine to debunk the idealized superhero mythos, turning a cynical eye to the corruption possible when so much power is concentrated in the hands of flawed human beings. It is a world that is less about Superman and more about Travis Bickle.
Accordingly, a faithful film adaptation is a pretty tall order. The Cold War paranoia has lost much of its edge in the nearly quarter century since its release, as had the shock of the novel's innovations. The filmmakers do their best to honor the source material, but come up with a mixed bag.
For the sake of brevity and to not alienate those who haven't read the novel, the filmmakers sweep aside much of the complex backstory for the film. While this serves to keep the focus on the current generation of heroes, it also diminishes the psychological realism of the piece. Consequently, a lot of the characters' actions exist in a vaccuum, and much of Moore's original message is lost. Almost all of the cast of minor characters is lost, too, making the proceedings seem so much thinner and one-dimensional.
And then there's the violence. While the novel and the film are each especially violent, they wind up being two different creatures. Snyder and his writers toned down many of the more brutal passages of the book in favor of Snyder's patented garish fight choreography. Limbs shatter and blood gushes in gruesome slow motion. It's hypnotic and balletic, but ultimately just eye candy. The amoral brutality that Moore used to illuminate his hard-edged characters is replaced by empty and gratuitous exercises in CGI wizardry.
But it's not all bad. The novel's greatest weakness -- its convoluted, inorganic ending -- is given a minor revamp here to better effect. It's still not wholly satisfying, but it is definitely a step in the right direction. There is also terrific cinematography by Larry Fong (a veteran of "300" and "Lost") that vividly brings to life some of the best parts of Gibbons' original artwork.
The acting, too, is solid. With the exception of a wooden turn by Malin Ackerman as the second Silk Spectre, this is a talented ensemble. Billy Crudup (as Dr. Manhattan) and Jackie Earle Haley (as Rohrshach) are particularly great.
In total, "Watchmen" is not completely successful, but it's not a failure, either. Just be sure to read the book first, to fully appreciate the story's rich possibilities.
Best Line: "Never compromise. Not even in the face of Armageddon."
Side Note: Having been in development for decades, "Watchmen" has had numerous actors, writers and directors attached to the project at various times. Among the directors considered were Terry Gilliam, Darren Aronofsky, Paul Greenglass and Michael Bay. Among the candidates to play Rohrshach were Robin Williams, Simon Pegg, Daniel Craig and Doug Hutchinson.
Companion Viewing: "V For Vendetta" (2005) and "The Incredibles" (2004).
The Scoop: Food lovers will find a lot to like in "Ratatouille," Brad Bird's second feature for Pixar.
The film takes us inside the gourmet kitchens of Paris as Remy (Patton Oswalt), a culinarily gifted rat, helps nervous apprentice chef Linguini (Lou Romano) move up in the world of high cuisine, woo fellow chef Colette (Janeane Garofalo), please the notorious food critic Anton Ego (Peter O'Toole) and stay one step ahead of his conniving boss Skinner (Ian Holm).
The world of the busy kitchen is lovingly recreated, with plenty of attention paid to the preparation of the ingredients, culinary aesthetics and the simple joys of cooking. This is a top-notch Pixar production in other ways too, particularly in the character design, the excellent voice performances and a couple of bravura chase sequences.
Where "Ratatouille" stumbles, however, is in its predictable, cliched story. The plot doesn't offer any surprises. This may not be entirely the fault of Bird, who took over the project from original writer/director Jan Pinkava midway through. But it still amounts to possibly the weakest story in the Pixar repertoire.
That's not a reason to avoid "Ratatouille" but unless you're enamored with the world of gourmet cuisine, you might not be revisiting it very often.
Best Line: "I defrauded a major corporation. I robbed the second largest bank in France using only a ballpoint pen. I created a hole in the ozone layer over Avignon. I killed a man -- with this thumb."
Side Note: The shop with the dead rats in the window is an actual exterminator's shop in Paris called Destruction des Animaux Nuisibles, which has been in business since 1872.
Companion Viewing: "The Tale of Despereaux" (2008).
The Scoop: Fandom for a sports team is a hard thing to explain to the uninitiated. There certainly isn't anything logical or rational about it, but it's something that becomes ingrained at an early age and is a passion that runs deeper than anything. It isn't about going to games for a fun getaway or to be "seen." It's about being there, win or lose (especially when they're losing), through sun or rain. It's an unbridled love for anyone wearing your uniform.
“Bluetopia” is the story of the 2008 Los Angeles Dodgers season, but this isn’t your typical documentary. It’s an all-access look, not only with the players in the clubhouse and their off-field lives, but also with the stadium operations and what happens behind the scenes. But even better than that are the interviews with the lifelong fans, talking about their love for the team. This is, at heart, as story about fandom, and offers a snapshot of the state of Dodgers Nation.
Besides the usual suspects like the players, general manager Ned Colletti and owners Frank and Jamie McCourt, there are also interviews with the likes of clubhouse manager Mitch Poole, Roger “The Peanut Man” Owens, Joe Beimel’s parents and, of course, Vin Scully. But there are also visits with the owner of a Dodger-themed tattoo shop, former gang members working with Homeboy Industries, three little old ladies who love Russell Martin, and doctors and cancer patients at the City of Hope.
But the pivotal moment, of course, is the arrival of Manny Ramirez, and we get to see his first entrance in the clubhouse, the media crush and the reaction of his new teammates (including Andruw Jones sulking in the background).
What’s most memorable about the film, though, are the small moments. The guy who wants to get all of Dodger Stadium and the L.A. skyline tattooed on his back. The joy on the face of Clayton Kershaw’s mother while watching his Major League debut. The rookie hazing costumes. The teenager who catches a batting practice home run and manages to parlay it into an autograph from Chan Ho Park.
Don’t expect any objectivity with this documentary. It’s a celebration of the Dodger experience, and the portions with the team personnel definitely have the feel of PR spin. But what makes “Bluetopia” are the moments with the fans. They come from all walks of life and don’t have much in common but their love for the Blue. But that’s all it takes. That’s what true fandom is all about.
Best Bit: The excitement of Mateo, the little boy who was attending his first game.
Side Note: Want your own True Blue tattoo? The shop is on Hollywood Boulevard, not far from the stadium. While you're there, be sure to pick up your Pavilion Pimp gear.
Companion Viewing: A game at Dodger Stadium, of course, from the field or loge level with a little radio to hear Vin Scully's call.
The Scoop: If you haven’t become acquainted with Larry “Wild Man” Fischer, this is an excellent opportunity to do so.
Fischer was born with the double whammy of manic depression and paranoid schizophrenia, but buried inside that troubled mind is a strongly melodic musical sensibility. After an adolescence filled with family troubles and a stay in a mental institution, Larry found himself on the streets of Hollywood in the mid-1960s, where he survived by offering his songs – frenzied, a cappella outbursts of childlike enthusiasm mixed with the pathos of his life story – to passersby for a dime. He was found and befriended by Frank Zappa, who helped corral Fischer’s chaotic musical (and personal) energy for his memorable, if not always listenable, 1968 debut album, “An Evening With Larry ‘Wild Man’ Fischer.” After falling out with Zappa, the Wild Man continued his music career through partnerships with Rhino Records and Barnes & Barnes, punctuated by troubled interpersonal relationships and a growing cult of fans.
This documentary, by Josh Rubin and Jeremy Lubin, covers all this rich history, following the 60-year-old Fischer through his transient daily life as he tells stories, makes up songs, spins his paranoid theories and occasionally acts out. There are also revealing interviews with Wild Man acquaintances and fans, such as Mark Mothersbaugh, Billy Mumy and Robert Haimer of Barnes & Barnes, Dr. Demento, Weird Al Yankovic, Irwin Chusid and Gail Zappa.
Listening to Fischer’s music can be a difficult experience. Even those songs with professional backing sound raw, primal and disturbing. But they can also be fun and catchy; once you get one in your head, you’ll be humming it for days.
And therein lies the trouble, not just in considering Fischer, but also other mentally ill songwriters like Daniel Johnston, Roky Erickson or Wesley Willis. How much are fans and collaborators supporting the efforts of talented (although troubled) musicians, or how much are they simply exploiting the talents of people who can’t otherwise look out for themselves? And how much of their musical talent is merely a manifestation of untreated mental illness?
These are questions with no easy answers, and ones which Rubin and Lubin mostly choose to ignore. “Derailroaded” is a fascinating look at the inner workings of a talented, but very difficult man. But any insights into the larger questions will have to wait for another time.
Best Bit: Wild Man's two performances of the title song. When he sings it on the beach at the beginning of the film, it comes off as just a fun, catchy little earworm. But when we see him do it again in concert near the end, it becomes something more, a desperate cry of pain from someone who has no tools to articulate it properly.
Side Note: Because of his split with Zappa (allegedly prompted by Fischer throwing a glass bottle at then-infant Moon Unit), his debut album has not been re-released on any format since 1968. If you want to hear it, you have to either spend big bucks on eBay, or hunt it down on a torrent site.
Companion Viewing: "The Devil and Daniel Johnston" (2005) and "You're Gonna Miss Me" (2005).
The Scoop: Pixar has been around long enough now, and it's aesthetic has become firmly established enough, that the easy approach to evaluating each new film is to compare it Pixar's earlier releases. "Up," however, changes the expectations just a bit.
When we first meet Carl Frederickson (Ed Asner) he is a child in the Great Depression watching newsreel footage of his idol, explorer Charles Muntz, sharing his discoveries in Paradise Falls, somewhere in South America. The oddball Carl soon finds his match in fellow Muntz lover Ellie (Elie Docter). A montage quickly shows their life together -- fixing up their dream house; trying to save money to visit Paradise Falls, but never quite having enough; losing a baby and living childless; and finally Ellie's death, which leaves Carl alone and bitter.
This sets the stage for the main action, in which Carl not only escapes from the greedy developers who want to take his house, but also from the prison of his later years, by using balloons to fly his house away to Paradise Falls. Accidentally hitching along for the ride is overeager Nature Explorer scout Russell (Jordan Nagai). When they finally reach South America, they find a talking dog (Bob Peterson), a legendary bird and a few secrets about Muntz himself (Christopher Plummer). And, of course, it wouldn't be a Pixar movie without some lessons about the nature of family and cherishing the adventures of life.
The technical quality of Pixar's animation continues to evolve. While the characters are highly stylized takes on familiar animated "types," and the look of the scenery and camera work is the studio's most naturalistic yet. The aerial scenes are especially breathtaking.
Although there are some significant plot holes in the script by writer/directors Peterson and Pete Docter, they shouldn't be any concern for the young viewers who are ostensibly the main audience for "Up." But with the usual mix of comedy and action that are Pixar's hallmarks, Peterson and Docter have mixed in liberal doses of pathos, too. The many small compromises that get in the way of Carl and Ellie's dreams are vividly presented, as is the narrowness of Carl's later years. It's handled with a light enough touch to pass over the heads of younger kids, the message is unmistakable for the adult viewer.
It's this mix of humor and heavy subject matter that helps easily supplant "The Incredibles" as the most "adult" of Pixar's offerings so far. And it is also what makes "Up" so difficult to compare with Pixar's earlier efforts. Perhaps it is simply heralding the maturation of Pixar's vision, as the studio's earliest kiddie audiences are now moving into adulthood.
While "Up" may not be as flat-out fun as other Pixar films, the same message of living adventurously is still there, although it is delivered with some of the bitter pills of growing up.
Best Line: "My name is Dug. I have just met you, and I love you. "
Side Note: Of course, helium-filled balloons can't really pick up a house like that. And certainly not as many as shown in the movie. It would take a factor of more than 600 times more balloons to lift that much weight.
The Scoop: Elements of "2001: A Space Odyssey," "Apollo 13," "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" and "Contact" collide in Brian De Palma's uneven space adventure about the first manned expeditions to Mars.
A scientific expedition, led by Don Cheadle, meets disaster on the Red Planet's surface, prompting international space station commander Tim Robbins to put together a rescue party (which includes Gary Sinise, Jerry O'Donnell and Connie Nielsen). The rescuers' rough, year-long journey to the surface takes up the bulk of the film's plot and nearly grinds it to a halt with its tedium. (Even De Palma's trademark suspense sequences are subpar here.)
After they finally make a hair-raising landing, the movie finally gets in gear for its intriguing final act, when the rescuers find the sole survivor (Cheadle) ranting madly about extraterrestrial intelligence. The action from this point is really the only reason to watch "Mission to Mars," even if you have to trudge through a clumsily expository introduction and the endless rescue journey to get to it.
What emerges is an exploration of the mythology surrounding the Cydonia Face (which has prompted true believers to adopt the movie as vindication of their conspiracy theories) and an explanation of life on Earth that eschews the obtuse spiritual speculations of those earlier films.
The screenplay-by-committee, full of predictable action and the occasional plothole, is the weakest link here. The actors are all strong, especially Cheadle, but unremarkable. And De Palma seems to be mailing it in, although he does rise to the occasion in a couple of key scenes. On the plus side are some good CGI effects and Ennio Morricone's incredible score. The sum total isn't exactly a winner, but it is enough to make "Mission to Mars" an interesting failure.
Best Line: "You're just not man enough to wear jewelry."
Side Note: The film is rife with scientific errors, not the least of which is the fact that all the planets are rotating in the wrong direction in the giant solar system model.
Companion Viewing: "2001: A Space Odyssey" (1968), "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" (1977) and "Contact" (1997).
The Scoop: Dreamworks scores again with this fun, energetic throwback to 1950s-era creature features.
After a Susan Murphy (voiced by Reese Witherspoon) is hit by a meteor on her wedding day, she grows to 50 feet tall. She is captured and sent to a secret government facilty where she meets a misfit group of monsters straight out of your favorite B-movies -- Dr. Cockroach, a half man/half cockroach mad scientist (Hugh Laurie); The Missing Link, a prehistoric amphibious creature (Will Arnett); B.O.B., a gelatinous blob (Seth Rogen); and a giant insect named Insectosaurus. They are quickly called upon to fight an invasion by the crackpot alien Gallaxhar (Rainn Wilson).
Also in the cast are Paul Rudd, Keifer Sutherland, Stephen Colbert and Amy Poehler.
The plot is simple and fast-moving, and directors Conrad Vernon and Rob Letterman (plus a small army of co-screenwriters) keep the gags coming at a breakneck pace. While this is enough to entertain the kids, the adults will enjoy spoofs and allusions to films from "The Amazing Colossal Man" and "The Blob" to "Vertigo" and "Dr. Strangelove." It is also refreshing to see a lead female character who is not a girlfriend or a princess, but a real woman who gets to be heroic in her own right.
The animation is excellent, except for Susan's absurdly large eyes and a few gratuitous shots designed for the 3-D audience (the first, a clever nod to the 3-D "House of Wax"). A few of the jokes fall flat, but they are more than outweighed by the ones that work. Throw in a couple of well choreographed battle scenes (particularly the one the rages across the streets of San Francisco and onto the Golden Gate Bridge) and you've got yourself a winner.
Best Line: "I am brave. I'm a brave president!"
Side Note: Keep your ears peeled for the Wilhem scream during the fight with the Gallaxhar clones.
The Scoop: When Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' "Watchmen" was released in 1985, it became a landmark in the emerging genre of graphic novels and has cast a long shadow. Not only did it enlarge the storytelling possibilities in the comics field, but its effects have also been felt in the larger popular culture, particularly the way films and television shows have handled superhero themes. It was also very much a product of its times, delving deep into the Cold War anxieties of the mid-1980s.
All of which make any sort of film version of "Watchmen" especially problematic. As written by David Hayter ("X-Men") and newcomer Alex Tse and directed by Zack Snyder ("300"), the film is full of thunder and excitement, but runs up against a few walls.
The story takes place in a darker, alternate version of 1985 America in which costumed adventurers and vigilantes are common place and, after their halcyon days in the 1940s, have become increasingly distrusted by the public for enforcing the oppresive policies of the U.S. government, led by Richard Nixon in his fifth term as president. Against the backdrop of escalating nuclear tensions between the U.S. and Soviet Union, the hero-turned-military-mercenary The Comedian is murdered. As the sociopathic vigilante Rohrshach tries to solve the crime, he and his former compatriots (including Nite Owl, Silk Spectre, Dr. Manhattan and Ozymandias) uncover corruption and a global power grab.
The novel's genius lies in its multi-layered storytelling, which is rich in symbolism, literary allusions and a wonderfully fleshed-out cast of supporting characters. The history of this alternate world is also richly detailed, providing a running commentary on the main story and rewarding careful attention. All these elements combine to debunk the idealized superhero mythos, turning a cynical eye to the corruption possible when so much power is concentrated in the hands of flawed human beings. It is a world that is less about Superman and more about Travis Bickle.
Accordingly, a faithful film adaptation is a pretty tall order. The Cold War paranoia has lost much of its edge in the nearly quarter century since its release, as had the shock of the novel's innovations. The filmmakers do their best to honor the source material, but come up with a mixed bag.
For the sake of brevity and to not alienate those who haven't read the novel, the filmmakers sweep aside much of the complex backstory for the film. While this serves to keep the focus on the current generation of heroes, it also diminishes the psychological realism of the piece. Consequently, a lot of the characters' actions exist in a vaccuum, and much of Moore's original message is lost. Almost all of the cast of minor characters is lost, too, making the proceedings seem so much thinner and one-dimensional.
And then there's the violence. While the novel and the film are each especially violent, they wind up being two different creatures. Snyder and his writers toned down many of the more brutal passages of the book in favor of Snyder's patented garish fight choreography. Limbs shatter and blood gushes in gruesome slow motion. It's hypnotic and balletic, but ultimately just eye candy. The amoral brutality that Moore used to illuminate his hard-edged characters is replaced by empty and gratuitous exercises in CGI wizardry.
But it's not all bad. The novel's greatest weakness -- its convoluted, inorganic ending -- is given a minor revamp here to better effect. It's still not wholly satisfying, but it is definitely a step in the right direction. There is also terrific cinematography by Larry Fong (a veteran of "300" and "Lost") that vividly brings to life some of the best parts of Gibbons' original artwork.
The acting, too, is solid. With the exception of a wooden turn by Malin Ackerman as the second Silk Spectre, this is a talented ensemble. Billy Crudup (as Dr. Manhattan) and Jackie Earle Haley (as Rohrshach) are particularly great.
In total, "Watchmen" is not completely successful, but it's not a failure, either. Just be sure to read the book first, to fully appreciate the story's rich possibilities.
Best Line: "Never compromise. Not even in the face of Armageddon."
Side Note: Having been in development for decades, "Watchmen" has had numerous actors, writers and directors attached to the project at various times. Among the directors considered were Terry Gilliam, Darren Aronofsky, Paul Greenglass and Michael Bay. Among the candidates to play Rohrshach were Robin Williams, Simon Pegg, Daniel Craig and Doug Hutchinson.
Companion Viewing: "V For Vendetta" (2005) and "The Incredibles" (2004).
The Scoop: "The Tale of Despereaux" is filled with the kind of high-minded earnestness that you just don't see much in children's entertainment anymore -- and for good reason.
The story, from Kate DiCamillo's book, concerns a brave, bookish mouse who doesn't fit in with the other mice; a kind-hearted sailing rat who gets stuck in a dungeon with his conniving brethren; a palace servant girl who will do anything to be princess; a grimy jailer who pines for the infant daughter he had to give up years ago; a king who withdraws from the world after his wife's death; a princess who wishes the joy would return to her world; a genius chef who draws inspiration from a magical vegetable spirt; and a kingdom that really, REALLY loves its soup.
The voice cast features a ton of recognizable names, including Matthew Broderick (as Despereaux the mouse), Dustin Hoffman, Sigourney Weaver, Emma Watson, Kevin Kline, Tracey Ullman, Stanley Tucci, Robbie Coltrane, William H. Macy, Frank Langella, Christopher Lloyd and Bronson Pinchot.
Whew.
As you might guess, the plot gets a little convoluted. Four main storylines eventually get resolved together at the end, But not without a few liberties to cram it all into less than 100 minutes. Many of the plot turns seem arbitrary rather than organic, and the climax depends an out-of-character change of heart by Roscuro the rat that (of course) turns out to be only temporary.
On the other hand, the animation and production design are particularly lavish and painterly, and that, along with the sight of talking rodents and some mild swashbuckling adventure, should be enough to satisfy many kids. But the rest of the family would be better served by something with a little more humor and bit, like the work of Pixar or even some of the Dreamworks animated features.
Best Bit: The absurdity of Boldo the vegetable man leading the charge into the dungeon.
Side Note: The design for Boldo is based on the work of 16th century painter Giuseppe Arcimboldo.
The Scoop:
