Guilty Pleasure No. 25: From Justin to Kelly (dir by Robert Iscove)

Posted on March 6, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

There’s a lot of reasons why a movie might become a guilty pleasure. Often times, it’s because the film is technically terrible and yet still, for whatever reason, it’s fun. And then sometimes, it’s because the film was made at a different time and, as a result, our modern cultural overlords demand that we dislike it regardless of how much we may also enjoy it.

And then there are films that you literally feel guilty for owning, watching, and sometimes enjoying. These are the films that you always find yourself making excuses for owning, Whenever I let anyone know that I have 2003’s From Justin To Kelly on DVD, I always make sure to point out that I also own the Criterion edition of Jean Renoir’s Rules of the Game and several films directed by Werner Herzog.

“Don’t judge me!” I shout, as my guests stare down at Kelly Clarkson and Justin Guarini’s retouched smiles beaming at them from the cover of From Justin To Kelly, “I actually do have good taste….”

And, if worst comes to worst, I just tell them that it was a gift from an old boyfriend who, just two days after giving me the DVD, was tragically killed while doing charity work in Vermont. “The enemy is hunger…not the hungry!” I say and, while they sagely nod in agreement, I always push the DVD to the side.

However, the fact of the matter is that I do own From Justin To Kelly and I actually have watched it more times than I’m willing to admit. It’s difficult for me to explain why. It’s not that From Justin To Kelly is a good film. There’s a lot of people who claim that From Justin To Kelly is one of the worst films ever made and, while I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, it’s hard to deny that the film really is pretty terrible.

From Justin To Kelly, of course, is the American Idol film. By coming in first and second at the end of Idol‘s first season, Kelly Clarkson and Justin Guarini were contractually obligated to appear in a movie that would be written by Kim Fuller, the brother of Idol‘s producer. From Justin To Kelly was quickly written and filmed so that it could both appear in theaters and be released on video before the start of Idol‘s second season. If From Justin To Kelly had been a success, I imagine that all future American Idol winners and runner-ups would have been forced to appear in similar films. And I have to admit that it’s kind of disappointing that From Justin To Kelly was not a success because I would have loved to have seen a beach movie starring Taylor Hicks and Katharine McPhee.

However, From Justin To Kelly was not a success. In fact, it was such a failure that the producers of Idol decided to give up on movies and instead concentrate on doing what they’re good at — i.e., neutering otherwise interesting singers by forcing them to sing ballads written by Kara DioGuardi. For the most part, the only time that you hear about From Justin To Kelly is when Kelly Clarkson talks about how much she hated making it.

(Reportedly, Kelly spent hours sobbing after reading the script.)

As for the film itself, it’s a romantic comedy musical beach party movie sort of thing. Texas-born Kelly Clarkson plays Kelly, a girl from Texas. Pennsylvania-raised Justin Guarini plays Justin, a guy who was raised in Pennsylvania. Kelly is a waitress who gets dragged down to Florida for Spring Break by her friends, Alexa (Katharine Bailess) and Kaya (Anika Noni Rose). (Bailess and Rose deliver their lines in the least convincing Texas accents ever. However, since Kelly won American Idol and is very much a Texan, her movie friends had to be Texan too.) Justin, meanwhile, is the “King of Spring Break,” which is odd since he and his friends Brandon (Greg Siff) and Eddie (Brian Dietzen) host parties that feel like they’d be more appropriate for a church camp. (Then again, maybe Justin was meant to be the King of Bad Spring Break. Maybe, if Idol had continued to make movies, Adam Lambert would have eventually gotten to play the King of Good Spring Break.)

Anyway, Kelly and Justin eventually meet. Justin likes Kelly. Kelly thinks he’s a player. Justin’s like, “No, I’m not a player.” Kelly’s like, “Okay, I guess we can be in love.” But then Alexa decides that, no, Kelly and Justin should not be in love and, whenever Justin tries to text Kelly, Alexa texts back that Kelly’s not interested. And, meanwhile, Kaya falls in love with a surly busboy (Jason Yribar), Brandon keeps getting ticketed by the same policewoman, and Eddie keeps failing to hook up with a girl that he met online. Because, you know, the kids are so crazy with their text messages and their online dating and their … busboys.

(Seriously, did From Justin To Kelly really warrant that many subplots?)

During the whole time, everyone keeps singing songs and breaking out into choreographed dance numbers on the beach. The film’s director, Robert Iscove, also did She’s All That and From Justin To Kelly at times feels as if it’s just a 80 minute version of She’s All That‘s prom dance-off, except in this case it’s performed by people who really can’t dance.

And yet, I’m going to take a minute to defend From Justin To Kelly. While it’s true that the film’s songs don’t have anything to do with the film’s plot and they all lean a bit towards the vapid side, it’s also true that a few of them are catchy. One reason why Kelly Clarkson is one of the few Idol winners to actually make a career for her outside of Idol is because she can make almost anything sound good. For that matter, Justin Guarini is a far better singer than most people seem to remember him as being. While it is true that, judging from their work here, neither Kelly or Justin can act, they’re both likable. (Unfortunately, they also have next to no chemistry. I was actually surprised to learn that Kelly and Justin apparently dated while making From Justin To Kelly because, for the most part, they both look terrified whenever they actually have to kiss on camera.)

From Justin To Kelly also has a massive nostalgia value. After so many seasons and so many forgettable winners, it’s easy to forget about what a big deal American Idol was during that first season. I was 16 years old and I watched every episode and I got so emotionally involved in who was staying and who was going home. Today, it seems incredibly silly that a movie would have been a part of Idol but, back then, it made total sense. (That said, I know a lot of people who loved the first season of American Idol but I don’t know anyone who actually saw From Justin To Kelly in a theater.)

But, ultimately, I think the main reason why From Justin To Kelly remains an oddly fascinating bad film is because it takes place in a world that has absolutely nothing in common with the real world. Nobody at Spring Break acts anything like any of the characters to be found in From Justin To Kelly. Imagine a Spring Break where no one touched liquor, no one did drugs, and no one got laid. Imagine a Spring Break where college students danced on the beach while wearing the most modest of bathing suits and flashing the most eager and innocent of smiles. Even the film’s whipped cream bikini contest feels oddly chaste. From Justin To Kelly might as well be science fiction and it’s just so odd to watch.

As you watch, you can not help but imagine how the people involved with both Idol and the film reacted to it all. It’s actually fun to try to imagine what the cast talked in between shooting scenes. Did they spent their time laughing at how bad the movie was going to be or did they try to fool themselves into thinking that it would all be okay? (I’ve been involved in some bad community theater productions, which is what From Justin To Kelly resembles. I know how darkly humorous thinks can get back stage as people try to come to terms with what’s happening.) You watch and you ask yourself, “Did Kim Fuller actually think this is how American teenagers act when there’s no adults around?” Even more fun, you can try to imagine what Randy, Paul and Simon said when they first saw the film. I imagine it when something like this:

“Yo dawg, that was just alright for me, I don’t know, man, that was strange. Paula?”

“Argle bargle margle largle. Simon?”

“It was rather like watching a small parakeet attempt to eat a 60 year-old man…”

And, as such, From Justin to Kelly remains a pleasure of mine.

It’s just one that I feel guilty about admitting to.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Lisa Watches An Oscar Nominee: The Goodbye Girl (dir by Herbert Ross)

Posted on March 5, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

After I watched San Francisco, I decided to watch yet another film that I had DVRed during TCM’s 31 Days of Oscar. I had several films to choose from and I ultimately decided to watch the 1977 best picture nominee The Goodbye Girl because, in general, I like movies from the 70s. Add to that, the film was described as being a comedy and who am I to turn down the chance to laugh?

The Goodbye Girl asks the question, “What would happen if two of the most annoying people on Earth were forced to live together and then ended up falling in love with each other as a result?” Paula (Marsha Mason) is recently divorced and is trying to raise her 10 year-old daughter, Lucy (Quinn Cumming), while also trying to relaunch the dance career that she put on hold when she got married. As played by Marsha Mason, Paula is probably one of the most humorless characters to ever be at the center of a romantic comedy. It’s not just that Paula is written to be a very angry character. (For the most part, Paula has every right to be angry). Instead, it’s that Mason gives such a totally sour performance that you get the feeling that Paula has probably never smiled once over the course of her entire life. When, later on in the film, she does smile, it feels forced and unnatural. You worry that her face is going to split in half.

In the course of one very bad week, she is abandoned by her actor boyfriend (he’s going to Italy to shoot a film) and she discovers that, before he left, her ex also sublet their apartment to another actor. That actor is Elliott Garfield (Richard Dreyfuss), who is hyperactive, immature, self-centered, and very, very talkative. He does things like play guitar in the nude and meditate in the morning.

Once Elliott shows up and barges his way into the apartment, a familiar pattern is established. Elliott does something eccentric. Paula yells at him. Elliott yells back. Paula yells in reply. Elliott yells some more. Even if you never quite buy the idea that the two of them would ever fall in love, you’re glad when they do because at least it gives them something to do other than yell.

(Of course, The Goodbye Girl was written by Neil Simon, which means that not only are Elliott and Paula yellers but they’re also very quippy yellers. And while I guess we should be happy that Elliott tells the occasional joke, the constant barrage one liners is ultimately rather alienating. Every time you think that the film is about to make an interesting point about human relationships, Elliott says something quippy and ruins the mood.)

Which is not to say that The Goodbye Girl is a terrible movie. The scenes where Elliott rehearses and then appears in a terrible production of Richard III are brilliantly done and wonderfully satirize theatrical pretension. As well, during its second hour, the film settles down a little bit. Or, I should say, Richard Dreyfuss settles down and actually starts to give a performance that’s more than just a collection of nervous tics. It helps that once Elliott and Paula are in love, they don’t yell at each other quite as much. There’s even a rooftop dinner scene where the two actors finally show a hint of chemistry.

Ultimately, The Goodbye Girl is an uneven film that feels a lot like a sitcom. It’s one of those films that you watch and, even though it’s not terrible, you still find yourself thinking, “This was nominated for best picture?”

Lisa Watches An Oscar Nominee: San Francisco (dir by W.S. Van Dyke)

Posted on March 5, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

As I sit here writing this, I’m snowed in, my asthma’s acting up, and our cat is quickly losing patience with me. On the plus side, however, this weather has given me an opportunity to watch some more of the old best picture nominees that I had saved up on my DVR.

For instance, I just finished watching the 1936 best picture nominee, San Francisco.

San Francisco was one of the first disaster films, a film that follows a group of characters as they attempt to survive the 1906 earthquake that destroyed the town of San Francisco. And it has to be said that, nearly 80 years after the film was first released, the climatic earthquake remains effective and scary. San Francisco, of course, was made long before there was any such thing as CGI. Many of the film’s sets were built on special platforms that were designed to shake back and forth, just like in an actual earthquake. When you see walls and buildings collapsing in San Francisco, you know that those walls are breaking apart and collapsing for real and the extras running for their life are literally doing just that. After the earthquake, Clark Gable, as the film’s hero, walks through the ruins of San Francisco with the haunted look of a true survivor. Gable was such a confident actor that it’s still jarring to see him looking overwhelmed.

Unfortunately, before you get to that spectacular earthquake, you have to sit through the rest of the film. It’s a massive understatement to say that the pre-earthquake portion of San Francisco drags. Clark Gable is Blackie Norton, a notorious gambler and saloon keeper. Blackie may be a rogue but he’s a rogue with a heart of gold. His childhood friend, Father Tim (Spencer Tracy), wants Blackie to run for the board of supervisors. Blackie, however, is more interested in Mary Blake (Jeanette MacDonald), the newest singer at his club.

OH MY GOD, IS THIS WHOLE MOVIE JUST GOING TO BE JEANETTE MacDONALD SINGING!? WHERE'S THE EARTHQUAKE!? #SanFrancisco

— Lisa Marie Bowman (@LisaMarieBowman) March 5, 2015

From the minute she first appears to the very end of the film, Jeanette MacDonald is singing. Even when she’s not at the center of the scene, you can often hear her singing in the background. And, after a little while, you just want her to stop singing. But, whenever that happens, she tries to act and you realize that the only thing more boring than Jeanette MacDonald singing is Jeanette MacDonald acting.

Anyway, the film goes through all of the expected melodrama. Blackie wants to reform. Blackie decides not to reform. Father Tim believes that there’s good in Blackie. Father Tim gives up on Blackie. Father Tim decides to give Blackie another chance. Mary loves Blackie. Mary fears Blackie. Mary leaves Blackie. Mary comes back to Blackie. Mary leaves Blackie again. Mary sings. And sings and sings and sings…

But then, just when you’re about to fall asleep, the city starts to shake and all is forgotten in the wake of a natural disaster. Even earthquakes serve a purpose…

San Francisco was a huge box office success. It was nominated for best picture. Somehow, Spencer Tracy received a nomination for best actor, despite the fact that he’s really not that impressive in the film. (His role is primarily a supporting one and he’s consistently overshadowed by Gable.) The only Oscar that San Francisco won was for best sound recording and it must be said that, after all these years, the earthquake still sounds terrifying.

As for the film itself, I’d suggest skipping ahead to the earthquake. That, after all, is the main reason anyone would be watching the film and, by skipping ahead, you’re spared having to sit through an hour and a half of Jeanette MacDonald singing.

Lisa Watches An Oscar Nominee: Love Affair (dir by Leo McCarey)

Posted on March 4, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

“If you can paint, I can walk!” — Terry McKay (Irene Dunne) in Love Affair (1939)

So, TCM’s 31 Days of Oscar has ended but I’m still on my mission to watch and review every single film that has ever been nominated for best picture.

Now, don’t get me wrong. This isn’t going to be one of my series like Shattered Politics or Embracing the Melodrama. I’m not going to post six best picture reviews a day for the next three weeks until I’ve reviewed every single one of them. Instead, I’m just going to keep my eyes open. When I see that a best picture nominee is going to be on TCM, I’ll be sure to record, watch, and review it. On days that I have some extra time, I’ll watch and review something from my DVD and Blu-ray collection. And, of course, I’ll keep make sure to keep up with what’s available on Netflix, Hulu, and all the other streaming services.

And, on a night like tonight when its sleeting outside and I’m aware that I probably won’t be going outside for the next two or three days, I’ll be sure to look through my DVR and see what I still need to watch.

Tonight, for example, I did just that and I ended up watching the 1939 best picture nominee, Love Affair.

Love Affair tells the story of two rich people in love. Michel (Charles Boyer) is a painter and a notorious playboy. Terry (Irene Dunne) is an aspiring singer. They’re both engaged to other people but, when they meet on a cruise, it’s love at first sight. They try to avoid each other. They try to remain faithful to their significant others. But, when the boat docks off of the island of Madeira, Terry agrees to visit Michel’s grandmother with him.

Michel’s grandmother is played by Maria Ouspenkaya and, while Ouspenkaya does a good job playing the eccentric grandma and even received an Oscar nomination for her 10 minutes or so of screen time, it’s hard to look at her without imagining that she’s about to say something about what happens when the moon is full. Or, at least, that’s the case if you’re a fan of the old Universal horror films and you’ve seen Ouspenkaya play the gypsy in original Wolf Man. Instead of talking about the curse of lycanthropy, Michel’s grandma instead tells the two that they are meant to be together.

Anyway, once they return to New York, Michel and Terry agree to separate and, if after six months they still can’t stop thinking about each other, they’ll meet at the top of the Empire State Building. Michel spends his six months becoming a more responsible human being. Terry spends her six months singing.

Six months pass. Michel stands at the top of the Empire State Building. Little does he know that, on her way to meet him, Terry got struck by a car. Michel is convinced that Terry stood him up. Meanwhile, Terry is confined to a wheelchair.

Wow, depressing movie, huh? Well, don’t worry. That’s only the first half of the movie. There’s still a lot more misunderstandings to get through before Terry can deliver her classic final line.

Occasionally, I’ve seen an old film referred to as being creaky but I don’t think I ever understood what that meant until I saw Love Affair. Love Affair is such an old-fashioned melodrama and such a product of a bygone era that it can’t help but be a little bit fascinating. Love Affair is definitely a film that was made at a different time and for a very different, far less cynical audiences and, watching the film today, definitely requires a bit of an attitude adjustment. However, what Love Affair may now lack in entertainment value, it makes up for in historical value. By today’s standards, Love Affair may seem slow and a bit too melodramatic but it remains a time capsule. If you want to go back to 1939, you can either build a time machine or you can watch Love Affair.

(And, fortunately, Love Affair is in the public domain, which means it’ll be a lot easier to find than a working time machine.)

The Things You Find On Netflix: 88 (dir by April Mullen)

Posted on March 3, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

If you go over to Netflix right now, you can watch 88, the best film of the year so far.

88 opens with a close-up of Gwen (Katharine Isabelle). Gwen is sitting in a diner and she has no idea how she got there. All she knows is that her boyfriend Aster (Kyle Schmid) is dead and that she believes that her former employer, Cyrus (Christopher Lloyd) is responsible. Oh, and Gwen’s hand is also covered in a bloody bandage, largely because she’s missing a finger. When Gwen tries to leave the diner, several gumballs and a gun fall out of her bag. The cops eating breakfast overreact. A waitress panics. Gwen accidentally shoots someone as she flees.

Still with no idea where she is exactly or how she got there, Gwen discovers that she has a motel room key on her. When she goes to the motel room, she discovers that the walls are covered with newspaper clippings. And, of course, there’s a corpse in the bathtub. On top of that, there’s also a rather hyperactive man named Ty (Tim Doiron, who also wrote the film’s script). Gwen claims to have never seen Ty before. Ty, however, says that they’re friends and they’re planning on killing Cyrus together.

Meanwhile, as we watch Gwen try to figure out what’s going on, we also follow the adventures of Flamingo (again played by Katharine Isabelle). Flamingo is a tough-talking survivor, the type of girl who, when we first meet her, is busy strangling a random motorist so that she can use his car. Flamingo goes from motel to motel, always staying in room 88. She obsessively drinks milk. When she runs into Cyrus and his gang on the street, they claim to know her. However, Flamingo has no idea who they are.

Which, of course, does not mean that she’s not willing to kill them…

88 is a masterpiece of the grindhouse imagination, an over-the-top film that not only embraces its pulpy origins but practically revels in them as well. The film is full of wonderfully strange and crazy moments, like when Gwen and Ty visit a flamboyant gun dealer or when Flamingo casually trashes a convenience store for no reason beyond the fact that she apparently feels like doing so. There is not a single character in 88 who is not, in some way, memorably odd. Between Gwen’s amnesia, Flamingo’s psychotic behavior, Ty’s cheerful embrace of violence, and Cyrus’s raspy monologues, 88 presents a world that is familiar and yet uniquely its own. When Michael Ironside shows up as a strict but good-hearted sheriff, it only makes sense that, in the world of 88, Michael Ironside would be the face of law, order, and decency.

Now, to be honest, you’ll probably figure out just how exactly Gwen and Flamingo are related long before the film actually makes it explicit. You probably figured it out just from reading this review. But it doesn’t matter. Ultimately, the specifics of the twist really doesn’t matter. This film is a celebration of pure style and pulp energy. Katharine Isabelle is brilliant, both as Gwen and as Flamingo. In the role of Gwen, Isabelle gives a very sympathetic performance. You want to understand what is happening to Gwen and, even more importantly, you want her to survive. Meanwhile, as Flamingo, Isabelle is a force of pure, destructive nature. Finally, in the role of Cyrus, Christopher Lloyd is a sleazy marvel and even manages to bring a hint of humanity to an occasionally demonic character.

88 is one of those films that will probably never get the critical support that it deserves. However, I think it’s one of the best of the year so far.

Film Review: Focus (dir by Glenn Ficara and John Requa)

Posted on March 1, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The snow and ice finally melted today so, this afternoon, Jeff and I went down to the Alamo Drafthouse and we saw the just released Will Smith/Margot Robbie film, Focus.

You know how there’s some films that you see and you know that you had a good enough time while you were watching it and then, a few hours later, you realize that the movie itself is quickly fading from your memory? It’s not that you just saw a bad movie as much as you just watched one that was not exceptionally good. To a large extent, that sums up how I felt about Focus. I watched it. I was mildly entertained. And I have a feeling that, 6 months from now, I’m going to come across this review and say something like, “Oh yeah, I guess I did see that movie.” It gets the job done but it doesn’t do much else.

(I was actually tempted to start this review by saying that Focus was good for a “March movie” but then I remembered that last year, The Grand Budapest Hotel came out in March and proved that the date of release is no longer an excuse.)

In Focus, Will Smith plays Nicky Spurgeon. Nicky’s nickname is Mellow but he didn’t get that nickname for the reason that you probably think he did. (Though, rest assured, we do find out the exact reason why Nicky is called Mellow and yes, it does factor into the film’s final twist.) Nicky is anything but mellow. Instead, he’s a professional con artist who is always scheming, who always considers every detail, and who is always focused on getting what he wants.

The film is split into two parts and the first part is actually pretty good. An inexperienced con artist named Jess (Margot Robbie) attempts to rob Nicky and gets a lecture as a result. Nicky isn’t so much upset that Jess tried to con him as much as he, as a professional, is annoyed that Jess did such a bad job of it. This leads to Nicky eventually becoming Jess’s mentor. Nicky teaches Jess all the tools of the trade, introduces her to all the properly quirky members of his crew, and he even goes against his own advice (which is to never get close to anyone) when he and Jess become lovers.

The highlight of the first part of the film is a football game where Nicky and a compulsive gambler (B.D. Wong) end up making a series of increasingly ludicrous bets. B.D. Wong gives such a memorably unhinged performance that he briefly made the entire film seem more interesting than it actually was. In fact, as I look back over Focus, I find myself wishing that the entire film has just been about his character.

But, unfortunately, the film isn’t about B.D. Wong. Instead, it’s about Nicky and Jess. The second part of the film, which takes place three years after the first part, features Jess and Nicky as equals and it feels like almost an entirely different movie. Whereas Smith and Robbie had a nice chemistry as teacher and student, that chemistry vanishes after the time jump. Unfortunately, that’s not all that vanishes. The film’s pace and playful sense of fun disappears as well. If the first half of the film felt like an above average first episode of a quirky TV show, the second half felt like a long-running sitcom on which the show runner had been fired and suddenly replaced. It was similar to what had come before but, ultimately, it felt very different.

Focus does end with a big twist but, long before it was revealed, Jeff and I both guessed what it was. The problem is that we’ve seen so many movies about con artists that we know that all of them are destined to end with a big twist that reveals that there was another con going on that we didn’t know about. It’s impossible to be surprised by the eventual twist because we all know that it’s coming. For a “con movie” like Focus to work, it has to either be so cleverly written or so much fun to watch that we actually stop thinking about the inevitability of the upcoming twist. But, since Focus is never as clever as it thinks it is, we instead spend our whole time thinking about the twist and, seeing as how you’re a clever and experience filmgoer, you probably won’t have much trouble predicting it.

But here’s the thing: I think it’s possible to be too critical of a film like Focus. Focus may not be good but it does have it fun moments. Will Smith could play Nicky in his sleep. (And, to be honest, he occasionally seems to be doing just that.) Margot Robbie looks like she belongs in an old film noir. The settings are glamorous. The clothes are to die for. Ultimately, Focus is both moderately enjoyable and extremely forgettable. If you don’t see it in a theater, you won’t regret it. However, when it show up on cable in December, it’ll make for inoffensive background noise.

Lisa Watches An Oscar Nominee: A Few Good Men (dir by Rob Reiner)

Posted on March 1, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

So, late Saturday night, I turned over to TCM’s 31 Days Of Oscar and I was watching the 1992 best picture nominee, A Few Good Men, and I noticed that not only was there only one woman in the entire film but she was also portrayed as being humorless and overwhelmed. While all of the male characters were allowed to speak in quippy one liners and all had at least one memorable personality trait, Lt. Commander Joanne Galloway (Demi Moore) didn’t get to do much beyond frown and struggle to keep up.

“Hmmmm…” I wondered, “why is it that the only woman in the film is portrayed as basically being a humorless scold?” Then I remembered that A Few Good Men was written by Aaron Sorkin and it all made sense. As I’ve discussed on this site before, Aaron Sorkin has no idea how to write woman and that’s certainly evident in A Few Good Men. Joanne (who goes by the masculine Jo) is the one character who doesn’t get to say anything funny or wise. Instead, she mostly serves to repeat platitudes and to be ridiculed (both subtly and not-so subtly) by her male colleagues. You can tell that Sorkin was so busy patting himself on the back for making Jo into a professional that he never actually got around to actually giving her any personality. As a result, there’s really not much for her to do, other than occasionally scowling and giving Tom Cruise a “that’s not funny” look.

(“C’mon,” Tom says at one point, “that one was pretty good.” You tell her, ~~Aaron~~ Tom.)

A Few Good Men, of course, is the film where Tom Cruise yells, “I want the truth!” and then Jack Nicholson yells back, “You can’t handle the truth!” At that point in the film, I was totally on Nicholson’s side and I was kinda hoping that the scene would conclude with Cruise staring down at the floor, struggling to find the perfect come back. However, this is an Aaron Sorkin script which means that the big bad military guy is never going to have a legitimate point and that the film’s hero is always going to have the perfect comeback. Fortunately, the scene took place in a courtroom so there was a wise judge present and he was able to let us know that, even if he seemed to be making the better point, Nicholson was still in the wrong.

As for the rest of the film, it’s a courtroom drama. At Guantanamo Bay, a marine (Michael DeLorenzo) has died as the result of a hazing. Two other marines (Wolfgang Bodison and James Marshall) have been accused of the murder. Daniel Kafee (Tom Cruise), Joanne Galloyway (Demi Moore), and Sam Weinberg (Kevin Pollack) have been assigned to defend them. Jack Ross (Kevin Bacon) is prosecuting them. Kafee thinks that the hazing was ordered by Col. Nathan Jessup (Jack Nicholson) and Lt. Kendrick (Kiefer Sutherland).

We know that Kendrick’s a bad guy because he speaks in a Southern accent and is religious, which is pretty much the mark of the devil in an Aaron Sorkin script. We know that Jessup is evil because he’s played by Jack Nicholson. For that matter, we also know that Kafee is cocky, arrogant, and has father issues. Why? Because he’s played by Tom Cruise, of course. And, while we’re at it, we know that Sam is going to be full of common sense wisdom because he’s played by Kevin Pollack…

What I’m saying here is that there’s absolutely nothing surprising about A Few Good Men. It may pretend to be about big issues of national security but, ultimately, it’s a very slick and somewhat hollow Hollywood production. This, after all, is a Rob Reiner film and that, above all else, means that it’s going to be a very conventional and very calculated crowd pleaser.

Which isn’t to say that A Few Good Men wasn’t enjoyable. I love courtroom dramas and, with the exception of Demi Moore, all of the actors do a good job. (And, in Demi’s defense, it’s not as if she had much to work with. It’s not her fault that Sorkin hates women.) A Few Good Men is entertaining without being particularly memorable.

What Lisa Watched Last Night #115: Kept Woman (dir by Michel Poulette)

Posted on February 28, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Earlier, I watched the latest Lifetime original film, Kept Woman!

Why Was I Watching It?

Well, why not? First off, it was on Lifetime. Secondly, the commercials made it look really creepy. Third, I checked on the imdb and I discovered that this film was made in Canada and everyone knows how much I love Canada. And finally, I read a very misleading article on Bustle that insinuated that this film was based on the Ariel Castro case.

What Was It About?

One night, after an evening at the theater, Jessica (Courtney Ford) and her fiancée Evan (Andrew W. Walker) return to their apartment and discover that they’re being robbed by a guy who looks like Jack Black’s younger, thinner brother.

Jessica says, “Enough of this city living! We’re moving to the suburbs!” Evan agrees to use his life savings to purchase a house in the suburbs. It’s here that Jessica will work on her book while skyping with her true crime-obsessed friend Oscar (Jesse Camacho).

From the minute he first shows up and offers them a bottle of wine as a welcoming gift, it’s obvious that there is something off about their new neighbor, Simon (Shaun Benson). For one thing, he dresses like he’s in a community theater production of The Music Man. He’s a professor of Men’s Studies at the local university and, when he comes over for dinner, he’s clearly both offended and aroused by the sight of Jessica’s visible bra straps. Also, he’s likes to wear bowties and we all know that, in a Lifetime movie, bowties often equal evil.

Of course, the main clue that there’s something wrong with Simon comes when he kidnaps Jessica and locks her in his basement. There’s another woman already living in the basement. Her name is Robin (Rachel Wilson) and she’s been down in the basement for so long that she’s now in love with Simon.

And did I mention that the basement is specifically made up to look like the 1950s?

Because it so totally is!

What Worked?

Oh my God! Shaun Benson was sooooo creepy! Seriously, he gave a great over-the-top psycho performance in this film. Rachel Wilson did a good job too, poignantly portraying just how brainwashed her character had become. As well, whoever designed and decorated that basement deserves some sort of award. It was truly a creepy location.

What Did Not Work?

This is one of those films that should have been an insane masterpiece but, somehow, it never worked quite as well as I wanted it to. The film could never seem to quite decide whether it wanted to be an over-the-top melodrama or a serious look at abduction, abuse, and brainwashing. Courtney Ford and Andrew W. Walker did not have much chemistry as the endangered couple and, for the film to work, characters often had to behave in the stupidest way possible. Even the film’s ending, which was obviously meant to be a big “You go, girl!” moment, felt forced.

“Oh my God! Just like me!” Moments

Much like Jessica, I am totally obsessed with true crime and I enjoy trying to solve real-life unsolved mysteries. I also imagine that, much like Jessica, I would probably break into my neighbor’s house to investigate whether he was a potential murderer.

Lessons Learned

Creepy neighbors should be handled with extreme caution.

Lisa Watches An Oscar Winner: Chariots of Fire (dir by Hugh Hudson)

Posted on February 28, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

It took me two viewings to really appreciate the film Chariot of Fire.

First released in 1981, Chariots of Fire won the Oscar for best picture. It’s also one of the few British productions to take the top award. (British films are regularly nominated but the winner is usually an American production.) A few nights ago, it was broadcast on TCM and I watched it for the first time. And I have to admit that I struggled to follow the film.

It’s not that the film’s story was exceptionally complicated. At heart, it’s an inspirational sports film and it features all of the clichés that one usually associates with inspirational sports films — i.e., come-from-behind victories, eccentric trainers, athletes who are determined to compete under their own terms, training montages, and a memorable score. (The score for Chariots of Fire was so effective that it’s still used as the background music for countless Olympic specials.)

No, I struggled to follow the film because it really was just so extremely British, featuring everything from Cambridge to Gilbert and Sullivan to a rigidly enforced class system to casual anti-Semitism, This may have been a sports film but it was a very reserved sports film. If Chariots of Fire had been an American film, we would have gotten countless shots of people screaming, “YESSSSS! GO! GO! GO! GO!” Instead, the characters in Chariots of Fire are far more likely to say, “Good show, old boy.” Whereas an American sports film would have scored a montage of competition to the sound of “Eye of the Tiger,” Chariots of Fire features a men’s chorus singing, “For he is an Englishman….”

It takes a bit of getting used to and perhaps I knew that because, even as I was watching Chariots of Fire, I still set the DVR to record it. The first time I watched the film, I was overwhelmed by the culture shock and the resolute Britishness of it all. My reaction was to think that, much like The Big Chill, Chariots of Fire was a “you just had to be there” type of film, the type of film that was once impressive but now just inspires you to go “meh.”

And I was prepared to write a review stating just that. But, somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew that I should give Chariots of Fire another chance before I dismissed it. Maybe it was the fact that I couldn’t get the damn music out of my head. Who knows? But I couldn’t think about the film’s opening — with all those men running on the beach and getting mud all over their white uniforms — without smiling.

So, seeing as how I am currently snowed in for the weekend, I spent this morning watching Chariots of Fire for a second time and I’m glad that I did. Because you know what? Chariots of Fire is actually a pretty good film. It tells the story of Eric Lidell (Ian Charleson) and Harold Abrahams (Ben Cross), two British runners who competed at the 1924 Olympics. Harold is a student at Cambridge. He’s an angry young man who is running to prove all of the anti-Semites wrong. (Of course, Harold is angry in a very sort of upper class British way). Eric is the son of missionaries who views running as a mission from God and who refuses to run on a Sunday. The film looks gorgeous, Charleson and Cross both give good performances, and that music demands an emotional response. While Chariots of Fire may not be a great film, it’s definitely a likable film and there’s something to be said for that.

Plus, did I mention that the music’s great?

Lisa Reviews An Oscar Nominee: The Big Chill (dir by Lawrence Kasdan)

Posted on February 28, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

There are certain films that truly are “You just had to be there” films. These are the movies that were apparently loved by contemporary audiences but, when viewed today, it’s difficult to see just what exactly everyone was getting so excited about. Sometimes, this is because the film itself was so influential and has been copied by so many other films that the original has had its power diluted. And then, sometimes, it’s just a case that the film was never that good to begin with.

I’m guessing that The Big Chill must be one of those “you just had to be there” type of films. First released in 1983, The Big Chill was nominated for best picture. If you look the film up over at the imdb, you’ll find lots of comments from people who absolutely adore this film. However, when I watched the film as a part of TCM’s 31 Days of Oscar, I have to admit that my reaction can be best summed in one word.

Meh.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that The Big Chill was a bad film. To be honest, it was neither memorably bad nor remarkably good. Instead, it just was. Overall, the performances were good, the direction was shallow, and the screenplay was occasionally good and occasionally shallow but mostly, it was the epitome of serviceable.

At the start of The Big Chill, Alex is dead. With the exception of a scene where his corpse is being prepared for burial, Alex never actually appears on screen. (Originally, Kevin Costner was cast to play the role in a flashback but director Lawrence Kasdan cut the scene.) What little we learn about Alex, we learn from listening to the other characters in the film talk about him. For instance, Alex was apparently brilliant but troubled. He attended the University of Michigan in the 1960s and was close to 7 other politically radical students. While everyone else was busy selling out their ideals, Alex stayed true to his and, as a result, he ended up spending his life depressed and poor. Alex ultimately ended up committing suicide, an act that leads to his 7 friends reuniting for his funeral.

Opening with Alex’s funeral and taking place over one long weekend, The Big Chill follows Alex’s friends as they try to figure out why Alex committed suicide and debate whether or not they’ve sold out their college ideals. They also spend a lot of time listening to the music of the youth, getting high, watching a football game, and washing dishes.

(Interestingly enough, they spend the weekend in the exact same house where Alex committed suicide. Which, to be honest, I would think would be kind of creepy.)

There’s Harold (Kevin Kline) and Sarah (Glenn Close), who are the unofficial grown ups of the group. It was at their vacation home that Alex committed suicide and, over the course of the film, we find out that Alex and Sarah had a brief affair. Harold owns a company that makes running shoes and, to at least one friend’s horror, is now good friends with the local police. Sarah, meanwhile, splits her time between crying in the shower and smiling beatifically at her friends.

(Incidentally, throughout the film, Kevin Kline speaks in one of the least convincing southern accents that I’ve ever heard…)

Meg (Mary Kay Place) is a former public defender who, after deciding that all of her poverty-stricken clients really were scum, has now become a real estate attorney. Meg wants a baby and is hoping that one of the men at the funeral might be willing to impregnate her. Meg is a chain smoker so good luck, unborn child. Before Alex killed himself, she had an argument with him. (“That’s probably why he killed himself,” someone suggests.)

I liked Karen (JoBeth Williams) because she’s prettier than Meg and less condescending than Sarah. She’s unhappily married to an advertising executive named Richard (Dan Galloway). As they drive to the cemetery, Richard tells Karen that he can’t believe her famous friends all turned out to be so boring. Karen is unhappy in her marriage and, after Richard returns home and leaves her in South Carolina for the weekend, decides that she wants a divorce.

That’s good news for Sam (Tom Berenger), an actor who is best known for playing private detective J.T. Lancer on television. Sam is upset that nobody takes him or his career seriously. Meg was hoping that Sam would be the father of her baby but, instead, Sam is more interested in Karen.

And then there’s Nick (William Hurt), who is a former radio psychologist-turned-drug dealer. Nick was wounded in Vietnam and is impotent as a result. In case you somehow forget that fact, don’t worry. Nick brings it up every few minutes.

Michael (Jeff Goldblum) was my favorite among the men because he’s at least willing to admit that he’s a self-centered jerk. Michael is a former underground journalist who now works for People Magazine. Nobody seems to like Michael and yet, he’s still invited to stay over the weekend. Personally, I like to think that he does so just to get on everyone’s nerves. Good for him.

And finally, there’s Chloe (Meg Tillis), who was Alex’s much younger girlfriend and who doesn’t seem to be impressed with any of Alex’s friends (with the exception, of course, of impotent old Nick).

I have to admit that I probably would have responded more to The Big Chill if it was actually about my generation, as opposed to being about my grandparents. Someday, someone my age will make a movie about a bunch of college friends reunited for a funeral and it will be filled with my music and my cultural references and I’ll think it’s brilliant. And then, a 30 years later, some snotty little film reviewer will watch and probably say, “Meh. Old people.”

Such is life.