Okay, this might seem a little random but random is kind of my thing…
Does watching this 15 second video leave you as unsettled as it leaves me?
Seriously, I loved Juno and I’m looking forward to seeing Young Adult but the little Mandate Pictures logo seriously freaks me out. I mean…seriously. That little drummer girl is so intent and obviously passionate about her drumming but yet she has absolutely zero going on in the way of facial expressions. Looking at her, I find myself worried that she might be like that little girl from The Ring and she’s going to step out of the screen and try to kill me. Add to that, she apparently has a whole separate world trapped inside of her drum. That world is apparently full of giraffes and tourists and they all appear to be looking for a way out.
Welcome to the latest edition of Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse and Exploitation trailers. This week, we have six trailers that feature everything from a killer to Santa Claus to a pithy tagline to a mean, bad killing machine to Dennis Quaid.
“Sorry, it’s too shocking!” I could do with a little less close-ups of moving mouths but this trailer seems oddly appropriate for a film called Gorp. Keep an eye out for a young Dennis Quaid.
“And I’ll never forget that chicken race…” This trailer has an oddly somber feel to it, considering that it appears to be advertising a silly high school movie. Continue to keep an eye out for a young Dennis Quaid.
This is one of those films that I own on DVD but I have yet to actually sit down and watch. Quentin Tarantino loves this film but I have to admit that I’m having a hard time forgiving Detroit for those obnoxious “Imported from Detroit” Chrysler commercials.
It’s been too long since I did a What Lisa Marie Watched Last Night post so allow me to correct that by telling you about what I watched last night. Last night, I turned on the Lifetime Movie Network and I watched a future classic — Doug Campbell’s Betrayed at 17.
Why was I watching It?
I was watching it for two reasons. First off, I’m an unapologetic admirer of director Doug Campbell’s previous film, Accused at 17. I’m hoping that Campbell will go the trilogy route and give us a Convicted at 17 at some point in the near future. Secondly, this film was on the Lifetime Movie Network and I love LMN.
What Was It About?
Okay, there was a lot of plot to deal with here. The film starts out with scummy high school football player Greg (Andy Fischer-Price) seducing insecure virgin Lexi (Amanda Bauer) and secret recording the encounter on his laptop because, apparently, that’s the type of terrible things that 17 year-old boys do. Anyway, Greg’s got an ex-girlfriend named Carleigh (Katie Gill) and we know that Carleigh has some issues because she’s blonde, rich, drives a convertible, and says stuff to Lexi like: “I nearly ran your fat ass over.” Well, Carleigh finds out about the sex tape and gets so upset that she uploads the video to YouTube and soon, the whole school is watching it and Lexi gets so upset that she runs out into the middle of the street and gets run over by a truck.
So far, we’ve got the makings of a typical anti-bullying polemic and the film seems to be going down that route as Lexi’s mom (Alexandra Paul) demands justice for her daughter. However, then the film takes a sudden turn and just goes freaking crazy! See, Greg is feeling guilty about his part in Lexi’s death so Carleigh shows up with a gun and kills him! Then she steals Greg’s wallet and uses it to frame Lexi’s drug addict older brother (Shane Ross). So, Lexi’s mom and Greg’s mom (Paula Trickey) team up to try to take Carleigh down.
By the way, did I mention that Carleigh’s Dad is apparently in the Mafia? Well, I’m not sure if he actually is but he certainly acts like he is…
Seriously, this is a deceptively simple movie that’s really quite odd and compulsively watchable in the best Lifetime tradition.
What Worked?
In many ways, this film epitomized everything that I love about a good Lifetime film. It took a serious issue (bullying, in this case) and then explored it in the most melodramatic, over-the-top, tawdry, and silly way possible.
Just the title itself — Betrayed at 17 — is genius. Seriously, when you’re 17, everything is such a drama! Or at least it was for me. And I can remember that everything — and I do mean everything — was framed through the lenses of nonstop, over-the-top melodrama. Whether it was some other girl talking to “my man” or my best friend failing to answer her phone or any of the countless arguments that I had with my mom over things that seem so amazingly unimportant now, it was always all about being and feeling betrayed.
Finally, while this film is full of histrionic dialogue, there’s one scene that manages to perfectly capture the excruciating awkwardness of being in love when you’re in your teens. Greg, while admiring Lexi’s legs, asks her about a scar. “I cut myself shaving,” Lexi replies. Now, believe it or not, I had almost the exact same conversation when I was 17 and this film got it right.
What Didn’t Work?
Well, originally this looked like it was going to be yet another mawkish, if well-intentioned anti-bullying polemic but once people started drawing guns on each other and desperately trying to take out security cameras, it all worked. This was two hours of pure, silly Lifetime goodness.
“OMG! Just like me!” Moment:
Oh my God, a few! Listen, what 17 year-old girl didn’t get filmed having sex with a jock or accidentally end up shooting her ex-boyfriend? Seriously, that’s just a part of growing up.
Lessons Learned:
1) Guns are dangerous. So are videos of your ex having sex with some other girl. Put them together and inevitably, someone’s going to end up dead.
2) Fortunately, it’s apparently very easy and simple to frame someone for murder. So, if you haven’t done it yet, hurry up before things get complicated.
In terms of film, the horror genre has never gotten the respect that it undeniably deserves. Afterall, some of the most effective trends in cinema (German expressionism, for instance) first had their start in the horror genre. However, most critics seem to be more comfortable just dismissing most horror films as being a bunch of predictable tropes and easy shocks as opposes to admitting that the horror genre is one that is rich with history, subtext, and importance. Right now, there are two horror films playing the art houses of America and they are both more than worth your time. Those films: Pedro Almodovar’s The Skin I Live In and Jeff Nichols’s Take Shelter.
In The Skin I Live In, a weary-looking Antonio Banderas plays a world-renowned plastic surgeon who, unknown to all of his colleagues, has trapped a young woman in his sprawling estate. With the help of his devoted servant Marilla (Marisa Paredes), he keeps the woman (played by Elena Anaya) a total prisoner while continually experimenting on her in his efforts to create a new type of skin that is immune to bug bites and being burned. However, Anaya — who has been held prisoner for six years — is desperate to escape and is even willing to engage in self-mutilation in her effort to make things difficult for Banderas. Finally, while Banderas is out, Marilla’s psychotic son (a terrifying Robert Alamo) shows up at the estate and, convinced that he knows the young woman, tries to kidnap her for his own.
In between the scenes involving the strange experiments going on at the estate, another story plays out as Antonio Banderas exacts a disturbing revenge on the young man (Jan Cornet) that Banderas holds responsible for the death of his daughter. The film’s two stories eventually intersect in a surprising yet disturbingly logical way.
As a director, Almodovar often pays homage to other, similarly iconic filmmakers and The Skin I Live In feels like a combination of the over-the-top melodrama of Douglas Sirk (right down to the film’s “hero” being a doctor) and the unapologetic sordidness of Jesus Franco. This is especially evident in the film’s big, surprise twist; a twist that manages to be both ludicrous and compelling at the same time. (I should also note that, at the showing I went to, the twist inspired about a fourth of the people in the theater to leave.) The end result is a creepily effective, thought-provoking horror film that is both deliberately absurd and touched with a strain of undeniable melancholy.
As opposed to the baroque The Skin I Live In, Take Shelter takes place in the deceptively mundane American midwest. Michael Shannon plays Curtis, a soft-spoken construction worker who suddenly finds himself haunted with terrifying nightmares of an incoming apocalypse. The nightmares always start with rain and, as the film unfolds, they grew progressively more and more disturbing. Soon, he’s seeing shadowy figures wearing hospital gowns standing out in the rain, waiting to attack him and even worse, he starts to see visions of his friends and family waiting to attack him. Is Curtis seeing the future or has he simply inherited his mother’s schizophrenia?
The genius of the film is that, up until the final scene, you’re not quite sure. I’ve seen a lot of nightmares in a lot of horror films and I can usually spot them long before the inevitable scene of the film’s hero waking up in bed with a shout. Take Shelter is full of nightmares and they all follow the same basic theme but they are so effortlessly woven into the film that they still take you by surprise long after they shouldn’t. As a viewer, you find yourself relating to Curtis because, like him, you’re never quite sure what’s real and what’s just in his mind. The film forces us to try to figure out whether Curtis is scared because he’s crazy or is he going crazy because he’s scared.
The film’s apocalyptic visions reminded me a lot of Peter Weir’s somewhat similar film, The Last Wave. However, both director Jeff Nichols and star Michael Shannon manage to make this story their own. Shannon is in nearly every scene of the film and he gives a performance that’s both dramatic and subtle. In the past, whenever Shannon’s played a mentally ill character (Revolutionary Road, The Runaways), I’ve always felt he’s come really close to caricature. However, in this case, he gets it right and brings a real sense of reality and urgency to the film. Also giving good performances: Kathy Baker (as Curtis’s mother) and Jessica Chastain (who plays Shannon’s wife).
The horror genre may never get the respect it deserves. However, films like The Skin I Live In and Take Shelter are here to let us know that horror remains a vibrant genre that will not be ignored.
As part of my continuing effort to offer up a review of every 2011 release that I’ve seen so far this year, here’s 8 more quickie reviews of some of the films that I’ve seen over the past year.
The 13 Assassins are a group of samurai who are gathered together to assassinate a sociopathic nobleman in 19th Century Japan. As directed by Takashi Miike, this is a visually stunning film full of nonstop, brutal action and Miike powerfully contrasts the old school honor of the 13 Assassins with the soulless evil of their target.
There are some films that simply have to be seen to believed and Bunraku is one of those films. In the aftermath of a global war, guns have been outlawed but this attempt at social engineering has just resulted in greater societal collapse. Nicola (Ron Perlman) is the most powerful man on the East Coast but he lives life in paranoid seclusion and instead sends out nine assassins to enforce his will (his main assassin being Killer No. 2, played by a super stylish Kevin McKidd). Two strangers ( a drifter played by Josh Hartnett and a samurai played by Gackt) arrive in town and, with the help of a bartender played by Woody Harrelson, they team up to destroy the nine assassins and ultimately Nicola himself. Bunraku, which comes complete with an ominous narrator and sets that look like they belong in a Lars Von Trier film, is a glorious and fast-paced triumph of style over substance, an exciting and fun celebration of the grindhouse films of the past. With the exception of a miscast Demi Moore (playing Perlman’s mistress), the film is very well-acted but it’s completely stolen and dominated by Kevin McKidd, who can poke me with his sword any time he wants.
3) The Double Hour (dir. by Giuseppe Capotondi)
It took The Double Hour about two years to make it over here from Italy and when it did finally play in American arthouse theaters, it really didn’t get as much attention as it deserved. That’s a shame because the Double Hour is a pretty entertaining mystery-thriller that’s full of twists and turns and which features an excellent performance by Kseniya Rappoport as an enigmatic hotel maid. It hasn’t been released on region 1 DVD or blu-ray yet but apparently, there’s some interest in doing an American remake which will probably suck.
Jig is a documentary that follows several competitors at the 40th Irish Dancing World Championships held in Glasgow in 2010. I always try to be honest about my personal biases and I have to admit that one reason why I absolutely loved this film is because I not only love to dance but I love Irish stepdancing in specific and, as much as I love ballet, stepdance will always hold a special place in my heart. I’m not quite sure how to put it into words other then to say that it just makes me incredibly happy as both a participant and a watcher. For me, Jig captured that joy as well as showing just how much dedication and sacrifice it takes to truly become proficient at it. This film — much like Black Swan — made me dance.
I’ll never forget going to the Cinemark West Plano and seeing Meek’s Cutoff last May. The theater was nearly deserted except for me, Jeff, an elderly couple, and two women who were, in their appearance and manner, almost stereotypically upper middle class suburban. As the film’s frustratingly ambiguous conclusion played out on-screen and the end credits started to roll, one of the women angrily exclaimed, “WHAT!? Well, that won’t win any Academy Awards!” In many ways, Meek’s Cutoff is a frustrating film. Based on a true story, it follows a group of 19th century settlers as they try to cross the Oregon Trail while following a guide (Bruce Greenwood) who might be totally incompetent. Plotwise, not much happens: the settlers kidnap an Indian and demand that he lead them to water, Michelle Williams plays a settler who doubts that any of the men in the party know what they’re doing, and everyone continues to keep moving in search of … something. The film is, at times, really frustrating and I think it’s been overrated by most critics but, at the same time, it remains an oddly fascinating meditation on life and fate. Add to that, both Greenwood and Williams give good performances and the film’s cinematography is hauntingly beautiful and desolate at the same time.
Of Gods and Men is a quietly powerful and visually stunning French film that’s based on the true story of 7 Trappist monks who were kidnapped from their monastery and murdered by muslim rebels during the Algerian Civil War. The film imagines the final days of the monks and attempts to answer the question of why they didn’t flee their monastery when they had the opportunity to do so, but instead remained and chose to accept their fate as martyrs. This meditative film also features excellent performances from Lambert Wilson and Michael Lonsdale and avoids the trap of both easy idealization and easy villainy.
This is another one of those films that was dismissed by almost every critic except for Roger Ebert and you know what? For once, I’m going to agree with Roger. I absolutely loved One Day and I think that all the haters out there need to take a chance on romance and stop coasting on the easy cynicism. One Day follows the love affair of a writer (Anne Hathaway) and a TV personality (Jim Sturgess), visiting them repeatedly on the same day over the course of 20 years. The film starts with them as college students having a wonderfully awkward one night stand and it ends with Sturgess and their son walking up a beautiful green hill and it made me cry and cry. Hathaway and Sturgess have a wonderful chemistry together and the film also features some good supporting performances from Patricia Clarkson (as Sturgess’ dying mother) and Rafe Spall (bringing humanity to the thankless role of being the “other guy.”) This is one of the most deliriously romantic films that I’ve ever seen and I loved it. So there.
8 ) There Be Dragons (dir. by Roland Joffe)
There Be Dragons came out in May and it didn’t get much respect from the critics. I’ve also read that it was considered to be a box office failure, which is odd because I seem to remember that it was actually in theaters for quite some time. Anyway, There Be Dragons is an oddly old-fashioned war epic that attempts to mix the fictional story of a Spanish revolutionary (played by Wes Bentley) with an admiring biopic of the founder of Orpus Dei, St. Josemarie Escriva (played by Charlie Cox). The two stories never really seem mix and instead, they just coexist uncomfortably beside each other. It doesn’t help that Wes Bentley gives one of the worst performance of 2011. On the plus side, Charlie Cox gives a good and believable performance as Escriva and the film looks great. The film is so sincere in its desire to make the world a better place that its hard not to regret that it doesn’t succeed.
On Friday, as I was watching the new Oscar contender from Clint Eastwood, J. Edgar, something rather odd happened.
Without giving out in spoilers, here’s what was happening on screen: Leonardo DiCaprio (playing J. Edgar Hoover, the first director of the F.B.I.) had just offered a job to Clyde (played by Armie Hammer). Clyde — who we’ve been told has “no interest in women” — accepts on the condition that he and Edgar have lunch and dinner together everyday. As soon as Clyde gave his condition, I heard it.
“UGGGGGGH!”
“EWWWWWW!”
“DAMN, UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!”
It was coming from several rows behind us so I glanced over my shoulder and, brushing a strand of my naturally red hair out of my eyes, I saw the source of all this commentary. Two men, sitting on the top row. Judging from their bull necks and the globby roundness of their bodies, they were former athletes-turned-movie-critics. They both wore baseball caps and there was an empty seat between them which, as I know from years of observing the odd social rituals of the male species, probably meant that they had come to the film together but they were too scared of accidentally touching arms to actually sit next to each other. (Seriously, what’s up with that?) Anyway, I held my perfectly manicured middle finger to my lips, gave them a nice, long “shhhhhhhhhh!,” and then turned back to the movie.
A bit later into the film, Leonardo DiCaprio and Armie Hammer had a violent wrestling match which ended up with DiCaprio kissing Hammer.
And oh my God, you would have thought that the world was ending.
“EWWWWWWWWWW!” it started.
“GAWD, MAN! GAWD!” it continued.
“UGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
“THAT’S SICK, MAN, SICK! UGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!”
And it just kept going. “EWWWWWWWWW! GAWD, DISGUSTING! EWWWWW!”
All of this from the same two idiots. I again looked over my shoulder at them, gave them my little “shhhhh!” command but I doubt they noticed because one of them was staring at the ceiling while punching the chair in front of him while the other was staring at the floor, shaking his head and going, “DAMN, MAN! DAMN!”
And, I do not kid, this went on for like the next 15 minutes.
(Incidentally, this is only point in the film in which DiCaprio is seen to actually kiss anyone.)
Here’s a few random thoughts inspired by these two “gentlemen:”
1) Did the two gentleman not know which film they had bought tickets for?
2) Did they not know that J. Edgar is a biopic about J. Edgar Hoover, a man who most historians seem to agree was probably gay?
3) Were the two men illiterate or had they just not bothered to read any of the literally hundreds of reviews of J. Edgar, the majority of which mentioned that J. Edgar Hoover is assumed by many to have been gay?
4) Were these two guys — both of whom appeared to be a lot older than me — unaware that J. Edgar Hoover was gay? Because, seriously, I knew he was gay before seeing the film and I’m a part of the notoriously ignorant Wikipedia generation that knows nothing and is proud of it.
5) Did not the fact that J. Edgar has been advertised as being “the latest film from the writer of Milk,” not clue them into the possibility that this film might feature at least one gay character?
6) Finally — is this not 2011? I mean, did these two guys just wake up one day in pre-Project Runway America, found themselves a time machine, and then decided to transport themselves to 2011 just so they could see a movie?
Seriously, guys, some people are gay. Deal with it.
As for the movie itself, it’s definitely an improvement over Eastwood’s last film, the absolutely awful Hereafter. It’s a long movie but it doesn’t drag and, even though it’s a bit too self-conscious in its attempts to be a “great film,” it still has its entertaining moments. DiCaprio, Hammer, Judi Dench, Jeffrey Donovan and Naomi Watts all give excellent performances and DiCaprio’s “old age” makeup is actually a bit more effective than you’d guess from the trailer.
That said, J. Edgar shares one major flaw with Hereafter and it’s a big one. Both films attempt to use several different stories to paint one big picture and, in both cases, all of the different stories simply fail to come together. The sequences in which J. Edgar is a young man searching for the Lindbergh Baby and railing against gangsters are exciting and consistently interesting. However, the scenes in which Hoover — now an old, paranoid man — struggles to write his memoirs and attempts to blackmail Martin Luther King, are heavy-handed, predictable, and ultimately rather cartoonish.
The end result is a film that is always watchable and frequently fascinating but also one that is also fatally uneven and ultimately frustrating. It’s nowhere close to being the best film of the year but it is one of the more interesting.
A few days ago, I finally went and saw Puss in Boots, the new animated entry into the Shrek franchise and a film that has spent (at least) two weeks at the top of the box office. Now, before I launch into my review, I should admit that I’m biased. I love cats, I love fairy tales, I loved all of the Shrek movies (even the ones that weren’t that good), and I love Antonio Banderas. Puss in Boots is one of my favorite characters of all time and I fully expected to love this movie. And you know what?
I did love it.
Taking place before Shrek, Puss in Boots follows the titular feline (voiced by Antonio Banderas, who seriously deserves some sort of Oscar for Best Sexy Voice) as he swashbuckles his way across Far Far Away. Reuniting with his childhood friend Humpty Dumpty (Zach Galifianikis, and not Jonah Hill as I assumed while listening to his voice durin the film) and with the equally skilled cat thief Kitty Softpaws (Salma Hayek), Puss finds himself stealing magic beans from the notorious outlaws Jack and Jill (Billy Bob Thornton and Amy Sedaris) and using the resulting beanstalk to help Kitty and Humpty to steal the goose that lays the golden eggs. Along the way, we also get some flashbacks to Puss’s kittenhood at the orphanage and oh my God!, is it ever adorable.
Puss In Boots is a pretty simple film and, to be honest, it’s almost too simple. There’s none of the subversive satire or subtext that distinguished the best of the Shrek films. But then again, as a character, Puss in Boots has little of the existential angst that defined Shrek and, as a film, Puss in Boots probably makes the right decision to just keep things simple, cute, and fun. When all is said and done, the main appeal of Puss in Boots is that he’s a cute little kitty who acts like a cute little kitty and who sounds exactly like Antonio Banderas. He’s an adorable character and here, he stars in an adorable movie and that’s more than enough to make me happy.
So, here I was all excited and everything because I had an excuse to start another one of my never-ending polls and what happens? Less than 24 hours after I set up my poll asking you who you think should replace Eddie Murphy as the host of next year’s Oscar ceremony, Billy Crystal tweets that he’s got the job.
Seriously?
They couldn’t just leave us in suspense for an extra day or two?
Anyway, Billy Crystal isn’t really a surprising choice as people were mentioning his name from the minute Murphy stepped down. However, he is a rather boring choice and I guess that the show’s producer, Brian Grazer, has decided not to do the whole “edgy” thing. Which is probably a good thing since the Academy Awards version of edgy tends to be … well, it’s hard to say what it is but it’s distinguished by smoothed corners and a definite lack of sharp edges.
