DVD Review: American Teen (2008)

Graduating to DVD
12/21/08

Rent it at Netflix

Sundance Film Festival award winning documentary American Teen graduates onto DVD shelves on 12/21/08. Available exclusively for sale at Target and for rent at major locations across the country, Paramount Vantage's release arrives just in time to remind Academy voters of filmmaker Nanette Burstein's extraordinarily intimate portrait of five seniors in the American Midwest.

Filled with enough drama to rival fictional works produced for its target demographic and enhanced by its authentic and no-holds-barred portrayal-- the DVD is extremely light on bonus features but definitely worth a look for audiences of all ages, whether you're in the middle of senior year or still trying to recover from those four years of hell. I'll go into the extras in a moment but first-- here's another look at my original review.

American Teen

Publication Date: 8/1/08
Director: Nanette Burstein

There are times when I regret starting college two years early as, much like Woody Allen’s autobiographical character from Annie Hall who confuses reality with fantasy, most of my vivid high school memories come straight from the John Hughes oeuvre. Thus when I switched to college at sixteen, I become questionably nostalgic about missed proms, the nervousness of walking to the podium to accept a diploma, and the way that some of my friends seem to recall their teenage years with a mischievous glimmer of longing in their eye.

Yet, aside from Matthew Broderick's Ferris Bueller, who seemed like the king of his school (when he was there, that is), the misfits played by Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club, Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink, and Anthony Michael Hall in Sixteen Candles never really painted an inviting portrait of high school life. Instead, through the eyes of the likable outsiders to whom as a brainy film nerd I instantly related, we witnessed the depiction of high school as a modern day American caste system filled with abused serfs and lowly peasants wherein Queen Bees and jocks ruled the terrain in a seemingly endless parade of perfect hair, skin, family, wealth, romantic luck, and connections. However, when you combine these iconic 1980s John Hughes images with the new incredible documentary American Teen crafted by Sundance Film Festival award-winning director Nanette Burstein, I realize that I’m extremely grateful that I skipped junior and senior year.

The film begins with a Breakfast Club-inspired structure in presenting us with five teenagers who upon first glance seem to epitomize Hughes’s labels from the jock to the princess. Predictably by using a documentary approach, the personalities depicted all transcend the labels to become fully realized human beings in the eyes of the viewer. And in the end, we’re surprised to discover that in the world of high school, not too much has changed in twenty years. In fact, it seems as though Club’s theme song “Don’t You (Forget About Me),” was passed down like a torch from Generation X to Y, since we haven’t forgotten the hateful caste system.

Furthermore, contrary to the popular media assumption that partying, sex, and violence is always the chef’s special in the menu of teenage behavior, the five Midwestern high school seniors chronicled by Burstein find themselves under a tremendous amount of pressure not only from one another but parents, coaches, and teachers as they all near the finishing line of their obligatory education. However the quest to “fit in” still reigns supreme and in the technological era of text messaging, digital cameras, reality television, and instant Internet gratification ranging from e-mail, blogging, websites, and YouTube, it’s “amped up the cruelty and the regret-ability factor,” as Burstein noted in the Filmmaker Magazine interview “Personality Crisis” by Jason Guerrasio (Summer 2008; pg. 41-42).

After an exhaustive search for the right location to capture the essence of the American Teen experience, Burstein settled on the small town of Warsaw, Indiana and its sole high school, wherein she discovered five engaging seniors who were completely open to the documentary process. Also, much like the characters in The Breakfast Club, they initially embody each teenage “archetype,” only for us to realize that there’s much more going on behind the easy smiles and nervous laughs than we’d expected from the start.

Ruling the roost of the high school, we meet two popular, attractive basketball stars, Colin Clemens and Mitch Reinholdt, as well as the Student Council Vice President and extra-curricular Queen Bee, Megan Krizmanich. The son of an Elvis impersonator, Colin Clemens was groomed for athletic glory since he was given a Fisher Price basketball hoop as a baby. However, in the pressure to impress talent scouts and earn a scholarship, he begins struggling under the demands of his coach as well as his father who tells Colin in no uncertain terms that if he doesn’t earn a scholarship, he must enlist in the army. Whereas Colin is preoccupied with athletic and familial expectations and anxiety, his teammate Mitch finds his popularity jeopardized when he begins dating outside his social clique after finding himself drawn to the sensitive, brainy, fiercely passionate aspiring filmmaker Hannah Bailey.

Always eager to draw the lines of popular mores and the dos and don’ts of being one of the school’s untouchables, the beautiful, brainy, but unexpectedly vindictive blonde Megan Krizmanich doesn’t think twice about jeopardizing her admission into Notre Dame — there’s a family connection after all — in order to vandalize, trash, or embarrass anyone who crosses her. Obviously, Megan is easily depicted as the villainess of the piece despite her own typed update which plays during the film’s end credits notes arguing that she’s “matured… a lot” since becoming a college student.

And in filming some of Megan’s rather odious high school actions, it does make one wonder about the ethical implications of Burstein’s documentary since as a film, it will live on forever digitally and for better or worse, follow these students the same way that Michael Apted’s Up Series documentaries have followed his subjects their entire lives. While of course the students agreed to be filmed, I’m not sure this is the way that some of the kids would like to be cinematically immortalized, yet admirably Burstein never judges her subjects especially when things get increasingly dramatic.

However, much like in the Hughes movies, it’s the outsiders who most capture our hearts. A self-described “marching band nerd” who notes an obsession with video games, Jake Tusing is the type of guy who is perpetually given the “let’s just be friends” speech in school and despite being plagued with a horrific case of acne, the likable, good-natured, if overly-eager Jake makes it his mission as soon as the film opens to find a girlfriend. And he succeeds… at least for a while, but Jake’s troubles pale in comparison to the nearly catastrophic drama that surrounds the film’s center, Hannah Bailey, the liberal, outspoken, atheist who is dumped by her long-term boyfriend in a rather cruel way early on into the film.

With the ultimate goal to get the hell out of Warsaw and go to film school in California, Hannah battles overwhelming heartbreak, depression, and embarrassment, missing several days of school before she’s finally willing to go back and face her peers, for fear of judgment. And although while we realize upon a first intrigued glance that Mitch will no doubt be drawn to Hannah as she’s one of those vital girls totally unaware of how beautiful she is, we predict that it won’t work out.

Yet, much like Ellen Page's Juno, to whom she will immediately draw parallels and indeed to whom Burstein likens the unforgettable Hannah as well, you just know that she, along with the other students, will ultimately find her own way. Additionally, in a great contradiction to teen films that “usually have these vapid one-dimensional girls,” (Filmmaker, pg. 44) as well as boys, we feel privileged and honored that Burstein chose to make a film that accurately represents the high school experience in a way that unites the generations by their similarities and invites new understanding in exposing the technological differences.

Although, ultimately as an adult, it’s at times painful to witness some of the events without longing to intervene and tell these five kids that it’s all going to be okay and high school will soon vanish and their real lives can begin. And besides, whenever they start to feel nostalgic, there’s always John Hughes to carry them through.

The DVD:
Special Features

As Hannah is largely considered the heart of the film and perhaps the one most identifiable to the audience and Burstein, there's a plethora of extras featuring video blogs with Hannah Bailey as she waxes on all topics including a disarmingly sweet admission of love for her dog.

With the standard inclusion of deleted scenes and "character trailers," one of the more interesting yet painfully short extras centers on the young cast post-production as they answer questions ranging from how they got involved with the project to their reaction to it and relationship with one another today. The three males seem much more at ease and genuine in their discussions of friendship and good-natured ribbing. And while Megan and Hannah put on a brave face, something in their dynamic and perhaps the fact that the two were filmed side-by-side seems uneasy and a bit off as-- perhaps now with a bit more age-acquired wisdom-- they're nowhere near as comfortable or candid as they were when the camera originally rolled back in high school.

An extremely timely film that goes beyond mere sociological interest-- while a cast commentary and a separate filmmaker one would have definitely been intriguing (or even better, a commentary by each individual "character" as the marketing strategy labeled them), it's great to welcome it in any form into a bigger audience embrace. While I'm still fearful that the limited sale at Target is a bad move in getting out there to more viewers, hopefully a special edition will be released in the future that's truly worthy of its eye-opening one hundred and one minute feature running time so everyone can witness what it's truly like to be a twenty-first century American Teen.

DVD Review: Fred Claus (2007)

Flying onto DVD & Blu-ray on November 25




Click Here to View the Trailer & Photo Gallery

Talk about the ultimate black sheep-- Jan Brady has nothing on Fred Claus. The older brother of the boy who would become St. Nicolas, Fred discovered at a young age that sainthood is a tough act to follow. Driven to rage by being constantly overshadowed by his brother's accomplishments and given an annual reminder of his success with the incessant caroling, holiday displays and more-- Fred (played by Vince Vaughn) decided that since he didn't want to join the family business making toys at the North Pole, he'd move to Chicago and become the polar opposite of his brother Santa (Paul Giamati).

Instead of selflessly delivering goods, Fred becomes a repo-man, taking away flat screen televisions and elaborate presents he sometimes moves directly into his own apartment and delivering monologues to his young neighbor Slam urging him not to "drink the Kool-Aid" that is Christmas by being "a cheerleader for Santa Claus," whom he likens to a megalomaniac embodiment of a shell game con artist. An inconsiderate and absent-minded boyfriend to the lovely British meter maid Wanda (Rachel Weisz taking on a Dickensian, wrong-side-of-London accent), when Fred ends up in the slammer following a hilarious confrontation with a veritable army of Salvation Army santas (that seem to be as stealthy as soldiers), he's forced to call his brother for help.

With St. Nick's wife Annette (Miranda Richardson) trying to convince her "closet-eater" husband to practice tough love which doesn't quite fit the saintly mandate, Santa strikes a deal with his brother offering him financial assistance for an upcoming business venture if he'll come work for the handout at the North Pole. Grudgingly, Fred agrees and predictably, he wreaks endless havoc from taking out his frustration with carols by inspiring an impromptu Elvis Presley dance party to helping a shy Elf (Christopher Guest and Kath and Kim scene stealer John Michael Higgins) make a love connection with the mathematically gifted yet Victoria's Secret styled hot elf (Elizabeth Banks) to getting in a wicked snowball fight with his brother until ultimately the family stages an intervention.

By this point the film which seems to draw a large majority of its humor from taking a cynical view of the holiday with mean-spirited jokes (think Bad Santa-- the PG rated version) begins to grow long-winded, not sure whether or not it's masquerading as a comedy about sibling rivalry a la Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly's Stepbrothers or as a companion piece to the much lighter, brighter, and surprisingly contemporary yet nostalgic Will Ferrell vehicle Elf.

The beautifully packaged DVD and Blu-ray disc from Warner Brothers which offers feature length commentary by its filmmaker David Dobkin also adds more than twenty-five minutes of additional scenes, some of which further shift the story's theme from "naughty" to "nice" as well as the opportunity to view it in either its theatrical widescreen aspect ratio which is enhanced for widescreen televisions or in a formatted full-screen version to fit the standard square shape. Additionally, offering both language and subtitle options for English, Spanish, and French speakers-- one of the true audio highlights in its sharp Dolby Digital 5.1 surround is the movie's terrific soundtrack which contains not just holiday classics but other less-than-predictable songs which make the film much more effective including The Byrds' cover of Bob Dylan's "My Back Pages," although only certain numbers made it onto its incredible companion album you can explore below.

Filled with Vaughn's trademark whirlwind monologues and seemingly spontaneous references and jokes that make even uneven films like The Break-Up work, he elevates it well and the Jingle All the Way meets National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation inspired chaotic chase through the streets early on is a complete joy as is a ridiculously creative and funny meeting for Siblings Anonymous where recovering siblings like Frank Stallone, Roger Clinton, and Stephen Baldwin air their frustrations with their famous brothers. Yet, while that is hands-down one of the most ingenious portions of the film, especially when Stephen nearly comes to blows with Fred Claus until he begins repeating his mantra, "that's not Alec," the jokes and tenor of a film which finds Santa being threatened by a struggling economy when efficiency expert Kevin Spacey arrives all too ready to fire him with a three strikes system, doesn't quite know which audience for which it's playing.

Far too nasty for young children and with jokes such as the "I'm a recovering sibling" scene that are sure to go over their head-- it seems like it's shooting for the demographic Vaughn usually reaches of young men who latched onto his frat-pack comedy alongside Owen Wilson--Wedding Crashers (from Claus director David Dobkin who also directed Vaughn in the darker indie Clay Pigeons). Yet, in its indecision in awkwardly moving from a storybook like opening (similar to Elf which was made by his Swingers pal Jon Favreau) to an angry, embittered tale of family dysfunction that always comes to the front burner during the holidays, it loses some of its focus in an overly long second half.

Additionally, while we know it's Fred's story after all as our narrator reminds us, it is a Christmas movie and unfortunately, wastes its lovable Sideways and American Splendor curmudgeon star Paul Giamatti as a spineless Santa who eats his feelings to such an extent that he's developed acid reflux, insomnia, and problems in the sack. The same goes for the film's other Oscar winners and nominees like Kathy Bates, Miranda Richardson, Rachel Weisz, and Kevin Spacey (who does have one brilliant in-joke about wanting to be Superman as a nod to his Lex Luthor role in the newest Warner Brothers film) who aren't given enough to work with and especially in one plot that is endearing, too little time is spent on the cute John Michael Higgins and Elizabeth Banks subplot.

Yet despite its many, many flaws, and an overwhelming urge to go back into the cutting room and trim away at least fifteen minutes, there's enough good stuff in the film to make it watchable and even memorable but it's muddled by its angry script from Cars and Bolt screenwriter Dan Fogelman (who despite this, deserves ample kudos along with story creator Jessie Nelson for a wonderful premise), that I'm guessing went through too many rewrites which led to such a thematically confusing finished product.

While for fans of Vaughn, like myself, who've been enjoying his career ever since he went to "Vegas, baby, Vegas," even though admittedly he seems to play the same character repeatedly (aside from a few wonderful against-type roles in movies like A Cool, Dry Place and Into the Wild), it's worth a look, especially if you have a thing for holiday movies and it makes a nice companion piece to the superior Elf.

Still unfortunately for Claus, Vaughn definitely said it best when he told Favreau he was "so money [that he didn't] even know it" in Swingers as ultimately, it's Favreau's Elf that in the future is destined to become a new contemporary Christmas classic.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

(Find Your Favorites Below at Amazon)

Turn the River

This Hustler's After The Color of Motherhood.

Originally published at Blogcritics in my Under the Radar feature.

Even though we should know better, sometimes it’s fairly easy to mistake the characters an actor plays with what he or she must be like in real life. For example, if you tried an experiment and asked a group of strangers about A-list stars, a majority would probably tell you that Tom Hanks seems like the nicest guy on the planet given his work in Forrest Gump and Big (which is why they avoided his brilliant turn as a hit-man in Sam Mendes’ Road to Perdition). And in the same turn, that probably Wall Street, Fatal Attraction, and Basic Instinct star Michael Douglas seems like he’d be a tad intimidating. Sure enough, it’s this kind of thinking that spans the entire realm of all celebrities whether they’re actors, athletes or musicians whose lives are thrust in front of us in a multitude of ways, all inviting us to label them by their creative output.

Case in point: the highly verbal independent film star, Chris Eigeman a.k.a. an actor upon whom I developed quite an irrationally intellectual crush in the early '90s. Ever since I saw Chris Eigeman in Whit Stillman’s Barcelona -- dissecting the process of physical therapy and analyzing what’s really going on at the end of The Graduate — I became a fan of the actor’s uniquely neurotic delivery of dialogue. Simply put, Eigeman can make the most complicated paragraphs of scripted words sound naturally effortless.

Thus, over the years, since his scene stealing performance in Stillman’s Metropolitan, it’s no wonder that Eigeman has attracted some truly innovative writers such as Noah Baumbach (Kicking and Screaming) and television scribes including Amy Sherman-Palladino (Gilmore Girls) and Peter Mehlman (It’s Like You Know). Indeed if there were ever a verbal Olympics, I’m going on record as stating that the American team should consist of Eigeman as its captain, quickly followed by Lauren Graham, Campbell Scott, Parker Posey, Matthew Perry, and Topher Grace.

And it’s precisely this type of thinking, based on the characters Eigeman has portrayed again and again, that made his much darker, far less verbal, noir-tinged feature filmmaking debut, Turn the River, remind me once again that — similar to the way you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover (as then no one would read Catcher in the Rye) — you shouldn’t judge a man by how many WASPs he’s played. In a truly memorable and impressively subtle character-driven work — Eigeman’s first as a writer/director — he cast his vastly underrated Treatment co-star Famke Janssen (Goldeneye, X-Men, Made) as Kailey, a desperate New York pool hustler, eager to get together enough money to take her child away from her ex and head across the border to start a new life.

Winner of three awards at the Hamptons International Film Festival and lauded with praise by some of the nation’s top critics equally taken by both Eigeman’s debut and Dutch born actress Janssen’s mesmerizing portrayal that was even better than Maggie Gyllenhaal’s similarly themed work in last year’s Sherrybaby, this independent stunner has recently landed on DVD shelves. After having penned a couple of scenes here and there, once Eigeman wrapped The Treatment, he turned once again to his unfinished screenplay and once he began writing Kailey’s dialogue, he told IFC’s Stephen Saito that “it was incredibly evident that I was writing for Famke — there’s something very defining about her,” which he attributes to her “fearlessness” and “great cowboy spirit… both in her life and in her work.”

Although he notes that “it was truly f***ing terrifying,” to shoot the film’s “20 or 30 pool shots,” which they photographed and named and Eigeman laments the fact that he didn’t have the same “support structure to try and pull something like [Martin Scorsese’s Color of Money] off,” he admits that his cast including Janssen got “good enough that we could just let them play. We’d shoot 360 degrees and let them go.” However, while pool plays a primary role as it is Kailey’s immediate source of income aside from a few poker games here and there, Turn the River is at its heart a humanistic portrait of a woman who will do anything to be with her child.

As the film begins, we find ourselves moved by Kailey, who, despite having no visitation rights with her 11-year-old son Gulley (Jaymie Dornan), mails letters to the pool hall run by her trusted friend and fatherly mentor Quinette (a terrific Rip Torn), only able to arrange meetings with her son in secret. While admittedly we’re torn when we become acquainted with Kailey’s plan to kidnap her willing son, once we meet Gulley’s overly religious and domineering birth father David (Matt Ross) and his new submissive wife Ellen (Marin Hinkle), we realize that neither situation is ideal for Gulley and in the end, while a sense of foreboding pervades, we want to believe that Kailey will be able to quit hustling and settle down. Yet, Eigeman refuses to let us off the hook easily — as a veteran of independent cinema, he respects the intelligence of his audience enough not to offer any shortcuts and makes each and every plot turn seem entirely real and inevitable.

View the Trailer:

Also featuring a wonderful music score by Clogs, comprised of “four musicians from the U.S. and Australia who compose and improvise using sounds, textures and influences from across the musical spectrum,” Turn the River plays first and foremost as a tremendous film about motherhood and secondly as an above-average poolroom drama wherein, Eigeman notes that just like sex scenes, pool shots are “infinitely less interesting than [the expressions on] people’s faces.” And with this in mind, the entire film serves as a wonderful showcase to the tour de force performance by Janssen.

Likewise, hopefully if it catches on, Turn the River will earn this truly talented performer many, many more roles… that is, as long as we don’t typecast her as a pool-shark anytime soon. Although, much like the verbal Eigeman — if the game of pool ever becomes an Olympic event, we’ll know whom to send for that category as well.

My Brother Is An Only Child

"Yeah, I don't get the title either...
but I bet it sounds pretty in Italian."

Whereas Italian writer/director Daniele Luchetti’s previous cinematic charmer Ginger and Cinnamon made the perfect foreign intellectual antidote to our superficial chick flicks (like Because I Said So), his follow-up film couldn’t be more different. Instead of a contemporary, female-driven romantic comedy like Ginger co-written by and starring his talented, high verbal wife Stefania Montorsi (think the Italian version of Said’s equally gifted Lauren Graham of Gilmore Girls fame), this time he sought inspiration from Antonio Pennacchi’s book Il Fasciocommunista.

Although anything is preferable to that name, no favors were done when the movie was saddled with the unfortunate title My Brother Is An Only Child, which was derived from Rino Gaetano’s song (IMDb). (This being said, possibly if I spoke Italian or was familiar with the song, I’d get the joke but I don’t and I’m not so I don’t but if you do and you are and you do, please help an American out by sending me an e-mail.)

After receiving the prestigious “Un Certain Regard” from the Cannes Film Festival, the film also received nine nominations and five awards in 2007 at the Italian version of our Academy Awards — the Donatellos. Recently released on DVD with zero features and barely visible, miniscule subtitles that cause eyestrain, My Brother Is An Only Child tells the story of two very different brothers coming of age in the 1960s and '70s amidst political upheaval. Although they find themselves on opposite ends of the party spectrum, which would be bad enough, it’s escalated when revolution breaks out and all the more so when they’re drawn to the same woman.

If this sounds familiar to Italian foreign film lovers, it should (and not just to those who may have read the book with the daunting title). For Brother, Luchetti collaborated with the talented screenwriting team behind the structurally and thematically similar yet vastly superior 2003 miniseries The Best of Youth, which earned its place on numerous Top Ten lists that year of film buffs in the know. While at roughly two hours Brother can’t be as epic in scope as the six-hour Youth, it still pales in comparison to one of the best miniseries in recent memory, especially when the plots are so maddeningly similar that one can’t help but contrast and compare.

However, the astute marketing team at THINKFilm tried to remedy this before Brother’s release by releasing a clever but misleading trailer. Although it still echoes Youth and does evolve into stirring melodrama near the end, complete with the swelling of a beautiful orchestra, the footage erroneously sets up Luchetti’s film to be far funnier and jovial than the end result. Thus, sort of pigeonholing the work into the ever-popular European genre of coming-of-age with a dysfunctional family and/or trying to break out of a relative’s shadow.

And while incidentally Brother does include both of these plots along with the obligatory Jules and Jim-like love triangle for good measure, it’s a darker work than one would expect with characters that aren’t as likable as one would guess from the footage below.

My Brother is an Only Child: Original Theatrical Trailer

Yet, despite this and rather forced nostalgia which doesn’t come as naturally as it did in Youth, My Brother Is An Only Child is a work of the utmost quality. It chronicles the tale of the smart but bitter Accio (Ellio Germano) who has always been the family’s Jan Brady, next to his older, handsome, flirtatious, and mischevious brother Manrico (Riccardo Scamarcio), whose parents, neighbors, and beautiful girlfriend Francesca (Diane Fleri) act as though he hung the moon. While Manrico has become a veritable voice of the people with his growing involvement as a Communist spokesperson and lead protester — out of equal parts brotherly annoyance and feeling a kinship with the neighbors he seems to prefer to his own family — Accio joins the Fascists.

Although predictably as events heat up and both get a glimpse of the best and worst of their parties, Accio has a change of heart and switches sides, things soon spiral out of control as the brothers begin to realize what’s really important and ironically adopt the best qualities of each other whether it’s Manrico’s bravery or Accio’s thoughtfulness.

In the end, Luchetti offers us a truly memorable conclusion that admittedly made my appreciation for the film rise considerably. Depicting a stirring mini-revolution led by Accio on a much quieter yet more effective and smaller scale — with no violence and all soul — Luchetti manages to capture our hearts in a way that had been lacking for a better part of the picture and keeping it fresh in our minds long after we hit eject. Therefore with this in mind and given the stellar performances and production value, it’s recommendable on that level alone.

And while no doubt, Brother would have benefited from larger and more legible subtitles, in between squinting at the text, Luchetti and company opened my eyes much wider to a political situation that most casual moviegoers wouldn’t normally see. While the radical and tumultuous era of the '60s and '70s have been well-documented in countless American films, they’ve mostly dealt with the situation either right here on our land or in Vietnam. More specifically, they've failed to explore what was going on in other countries with some of the riots in France in the late '60s or indeed the events in Italy depicted in this film and Best of Youth and for more knowledge of such, we must turn our attention towards international cinema (even when it arrives with a nonsensical name).

And while Brother is an above average work, ultimately, for my favorite Luchetti film in recent memory, I’d still have to direct your attention to the appetizing Ginger and Cinnamon. Likewise, for those seeking a thematically similar yet infinitely more powerful depiction of the political scene of the era in Italy, movie lovers should look no further than the unforgettable Best of Youth, also available on DVD.

Swing Vote (2008)

Read the DVD Review


Director:
Joshua Michael Stern


To precocious twelve-year-old Molly Johnson (an impeccable Madeline Carroll), voting is not only an optimistic privilege but it’s also an American citizen’s “civic duty.” However, to Molly’s under-achieving father whom — for the zero parenting he offers — she fittingly calls Bud (Kevin Costner), voting in America simply risks the chance that you’ll wind up on the fast track for jury duty. Unfortunately for Bud, along with making the family budget and packing his daily lunch, Molly registered her father to cast his vote, aligning him as a political “independent” since she proclaims that “the two-party system neglects the working poor.”

While Lou Dobbs would no doubt beam with pride, Bud struggles to make sense of his daughter. This is especially the case when — in equal fascination of the electoral process as well as her tie-in school project — Molly reveals that she took the trouble to fill in her parental political questionnaire for Bud because she wanted to make him “sound smart.” Despite his protests and canned statements that voting is useless, Molly demands that her father meet her at the polling place after school with a peck on the cheek and a warning to Bud, namely, “screw this up and I’m leaving you.”

And while Molly has a fruitful day delivering a beautifully worded political essay and ends up on the news after local Texico, New Mexico reporter Kate Madison (Paula Patton) decides to feature it in the evening broadcast, Bud’s prospects that day are far less successful. With incriminating footage that depicts Bud ruining more of the eggs than he’s able to neatly package in the plant where he works — not to mention the fact Bud hasn’t punched in on time in six months and proceeded to take thirty-one sick days — before he’s officially laid off, his boss and former high school friend asks him to give him one good reason not to let him go. Foreshadowing his inability to make a decision which will propel the rest of Swing Vote's plot, needless to say Bud can’t offer him any explanations.

Later, predictably forgetting his promise to Molly until it’s nearly too late, Election Day ends on a far stranger note after a bizarre computer error concerning Bud’s vote makes the results of the day — already in a deadlock for the presidency — all boil down to whom Bud will vote for ten days later when, by oath, he swears he must recast his vote. Literally holding the fate of the government in his hands as his vote will decide which candidate earns swing state New Mexico’s five electoral votes and ensures him the presidency, Bud is overwhelmed by the media reaction as every major outlet from MTV to CNN to the BBC sets up a stakeout right outside his trailer. And just as quickly, political organizations start flooding into the tiny town that — before the gaffe — had been so inconsequential it wasn’t even on the state map.

However, the story really heats up when both candidates journey out to try and win over Bud by any means necessary. Pulling out all the stops and White House goodie bags he can carry, the first of the two competing front-runners, the favored Republican incumbent President Andrew Boone (a pitch-perfect Kelsey Grammar) arrives in Texico complete with the aptly named Martin Fox, his amoral strategist, in tow (Stanley Tucci). Also vying for Bud’s ear — or rather his vote — the earthy Democratic challenger Donald Greenleaf (Dennis Hopper), who along with his campaign manager Art Crumb (Nathan Lane) promises a racially blind, all inclusive “rainbow” White House, pack up their “Truth Train” and “Operation Real Deal” to make the long trek to the desert. Although the Dems learn that — while they can’t even begin to compete with Air Force One — their secret weapon is none other than Willie Nelson, who was the subject of a tribute band that Bud had played in before his rhythm section ended up in the slammer.

In an effort to better understand Bud, the candidates and their smarmy managers resort to shameless pandering, insincere flattery, and manipulation, including letting the dimwitted, perpetual beer drinker win at poker or using cue cards to make small talk with Bud about fishing. Most memorably, this results in a wonderfully hilarious speech by Grammar likening his role as commander-in-chief to that of a quarterback, breaking foreign policy down with the aid of football terminology. Grammar nails every scene he’s in and nobody plays a buffoon or the prototypical blue collar American male quite like Kevin Costner, although he’s essentially recycling the far more likable characterizations he crafted in Bull Durham and Tin Cup.

However, by making our lead character such an idiotic Homer Simpson-like oaf, we’re laughing at Bud rather than with him throughout the film’s entirety. And far more often than I felt empathy for him, I was surprised to find myself actually loathing him numerous times throughout because of his complete inability to see beyond himself and understand not just the gravity of the situation but recognize how it’s all affecting his daughter. Speaking of which, as Molly, the young Madeline Carroll completely steals the film and our hearts in the process, especially in a scene wherein she shows far more worldliness and morality than her father ever could, while breaking down in tears in front of her classroom, telling white lies in order to make her father sound like he actually cares about the country he’s living in and his fellow Americans.

For a comedy, Swing Vote is a bit more melancholic than perhaps director Joshua Michael Stern, along with his co-writer Jason Richman, had planned since there’s nothing funny about child neglect; but they try to keep the satire swinging along with the mystery of Bud’s vote and make great use out of their supporting players in the process. As the candidates begin to address Bud directly in a series of new political ads, suddenly Costner’s Bud becomes his very own Truman Show, being followed and analyzed around the clock in every journalistic medium. Although quality wise, Swing Vote is less like Truman Show and more like EdTV.

However, hilarity ensues as the candidates embrace political flip-flopping as the Republicans suddenly promote gay marriage and environmental protection with the Democrats tackling illegal immigration and embracing the pro-life movement simply because the inarticulate Bud misspoke a few times while being interviewed by the beautiful local, ambitious newswoman Kate Madison. In an underdeveloped subplot, Madison, who shares a bond with Bud’s brainy daughter, must reconcile her ethics with her desire to get ahead in the business, seeing Bud’s story as the ultimate break in getting the hell out of her tiny town and station run by George Lopez in order to follow in the footsteps of idols like Paula Zahn.

With the inclusion of an “everyman” and a “reporter with a conscience,” Stern reaches to emulate the type of underdog film that Frank Capra perfected with Mr. Deeds Goes to Town and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. And while the performers elevate the material, Stern forgot the fact that what made Capra’s films such a success is they delivered us a hero we could root for and one whom - despite not being the smartest - had a heart as big as the White House and therefore endeared us to him from the get-go. Predictably, Costner’s Bud has a wake-up call late into the film but it’s rushed and protracted — crammed into the last twenty minutes, making it pay off less than it could have had we seen glimmers of his goodness earlier on.

While it’s not as cynically intelligent as Wag the Dog or Bulworth, nor as paranoid as the underrated Man of the Year, there’s no doubt this film plays much better during this particular election year with audiences growing weary of endless coverage of the candidates and outrageous accusations and distracting spin. Despite this, Swing’s sound bites and satire get awfully repetitive in the last hour of the film’s surprisingly lengthy running time.

And similar to the way that the issues a voter cares most about are often neglected as soon as their candidate hits the Oval Office, on my way out of Stern’s film I felt like I’d just voted again. For instead of contemplating any food for thought by recalling some truly terrific scenes and stellar performances, I wondered what would have happened if the film hadn’t been ultimately overshadowed by such an inconsistent screenplay. Now that’s something that calls for a re-vote or at least, in the case of Swing Vote — political comedy reform.

American Teen (2008)

Director:
Nanette Burstein

There are times when I regret starting college two years early as, much like Woody Allen’s autobiographical character from Annie Hall who confuses reality with fantasy, most of my vivid high school memories come straight from the John Hughes oeuvre. Thus when I switched to college at sixteen, I become questionably nostalgic about missed proms, the nervousness of walking to the podium to accept a diploma, and the way that some of my friends seem to recall their teenage years with a mischievous glimmer of longing in their eye.

Yet, aside from Matthew Broderick's Ferris Bueller, who seemed like the king of his school (when he was there, that is), the misfits played by Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club, Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink, and Anthony Michael Hall in Sixteen Candles never really painted an inviting portrait of high school life. Instead, through the eyes of the likable outsiders to whom as a brainy film nerd I instantly related, we witnessed the depiction of high school as a modern day American caste system filled with abused serfs and lowly peasants wherein Queen Bees and jocks ruled the terrain in a seemingly endless parade of perfect hair, skin, family, wealth, romantic luck, and connections. However, when you combine these iconic 1980s John Hughes images with the new incredible documentary American Teen crafted by Sundance Film Festival award-winning director Nanette Burstein, I realize that I’m extremely grateful that I skipped junior and senior year.

The film begins with a Breakfast Club-inspired structure in presenting us with five teenagers who upon first glance seem to epitomize Hughes’s labels from the jock to the princess. Predictably by using a documentary approach, the personalities depicted all transcend the labels to become fully realized human beings in the eyes of the viewer. And in the end, we’re surprised to discover that in the world of high school, not too much has changed in twenty years. In fact, it seems as though Club’s theme song “Don’t You (Forget About Me),” was passed down like a torch from Generation X to Y, since we haven’t forgotten the hateful caste system.

Furthermore, contrary to the popular media assumption that partying, sex, and violence is always the chef’s special in the menu of teenage behavior, the five Midwestern high school seniors chronicled by Burstein find themselves under a tremendous amount of pressure not only from one another but parents, coaches, and teachers as they all near the finishing line of their obligatory education. However the quest to “fit in” still reigns supreme and in the technological era of text messaging, digital cameras, reality television, and instant Internet gratification ranging from e-mail, blogging, websites, and YouTube, it’s “amped up the cruelty and the regret-ability factor,” as Burstein noted in the Filmmaker Magazine interview “Personality Crisis” by Jason Guerrasio (Summer 2008; pg. 41-42).

After an exhaustive search for the right location to capture the essence of the American Teen experience, Burstein settled on the small town of Warsaw, Indiana and its sole high school, wherein she discovered five engaging seniors who were completely open to the documentary process. Also, much like the characters in The Breakfast Club, they initially embody each teenage “archetype,” only for us to realize that there’s much more going on behind the easy smiles and nervous laughs than we’d expected from the start.

Ruling the roost of the high school, we meet two popular, attractive basketball stars, Colin Clemens and Mitch Reinholdt, as well as the Student Council Vice President and extra-curricular Queen Bee, Megan Krizmanich. The son of an Elvis impersonator, Colin Clemens was groomed for athletic glory since he was given a Fisher Price basketball hoop as a baby. However, in the pressure to impress talent scouts and earn a scholarship, he begins struggling under the demands of his coach as well as his father who tells Colin in no uncertain terms that if he doesn’t earn a scholarship, he must enlist in the army. Whereas Colin is preoccupied with athletic and familial expectations and anxiety, his teammate Mitch finds his popularity jeopardized when he begins dating outside his social clique after finding himself drawn to the sensitive, brainy, fiercely passionate aspiring filmmaker Hannah Bailey.

Always eager to draw the lines of popular mores and the dos and don’ts of being one of the school’s untouchables, the beautiful, brainy, but unexpectedly vindictive blonde Megan Krizmanich doesn’t think twice about jeopardizing her admission into Notre Dame — there’s a family connection after all — in order to vandalize, trash, or embarrass anyone who crosses her. Obviously, Megan is easily depicted as the villainess of the piece despite her own typed update which plays during the film’s end credits notes arguing that she’s “matured… a lot” since becoming a college student.

And in filming some of Megan’s rather odious high school actions, it does make one wonder about the ethical implications of Burstein’s documentary since as a film, it will live on forever digitally and for better or worse, follow these students the same way that Michael Apted’s Up Series documentaries have followed his subjects their entire lives. While of course the students agreed to be filmed, I’m not sure this is the way that some of the kids would like to be cinematically immortalized, yet admirably Burstein never judges her subjects especially when things get increasingly dramatic.

However, much like in the Hughes movies, it’s the outsiders who most capture our hearts. A self-described “marching band nerd” who notes an obsession with video games, Jake Tusing is the type of guy who is perpetually given the “let’s just be friends” speech in school and despite being plagued with a horrific case of acne, the likable, good-natured, if overly-eager Jake makes it his mission as soon as the film opens to find a girlfriend. And he succeeds… at least for a while, but Jake’s troubles pale in comparison to the nearly catastrophic drama that surrounds the film’s center, Hannah Bailey, the liberal, outspoken, atheist who is dumped by her long-term boyfriend in a rather cruel way early on into the film.

With the ultimate goal to get the hell out of Warsaw and go to film school in California, Hannah battles overwhelming heartbreak, depression, and embarrassment, missing several days of school before she’s finally willing to go back and face her peers, for fear of judgment. And although while we realize upon a first intrigued glance that Mitch will no doubt be drawn to Hannah as she’s one of those vital girls totally unaware of how beautiful she is, we predict that it won’t work out.

Yet, much like Ellen Page's Juno, to whom she will immediately draw parallels and indeed to whom Burstein likens the unforgettable Hannah as well, you just know that she, along with the other students, will ultimately find her own way. Additionally, in a great contradiction to teen films that “usually have these vapid one-dimensional girls,” (Filmmaker, pg. 44) as well as boys, we feel privileged and honored that Burstein chose to make a film that accurately represents the high school experience in a way that unites the generations by their similarities and invites new understanding in exposing the technological differences.

Although, ultimately as an adult, it’s at times painful to witness some of the events without longing to intervene and tell these five kids that it’s all going to be okay and high school will soon vanish and their real lives can begin. And besides, whenever they start to feel nostalgic, there’s always John Hughes to carry them through.

Shotgun Stories (2007)

Director:
Jeff Nichols

As children, we are urged to deflect insults by recalling the tried-and-true rhyme, “sticks and stones may break our bones but names will never hurt me.” However, even if we repeat that phrase until we’re blue in the face, the secret that no one ever wants to admit is that names do hurt. And still reeling from the pain, it makes us recall another childhood morality lesson, specifically that “actions speak louder than words.” In fact, it’s what we do with those actions — whether it’s as simple as turning around and walking away or striking a blow — wherein we not only reveal our true character but sometimes, whether fair or not, chart the course our lives will take.

In Shotgun Stories, writer/director Jeff Nichols’ startling and deceptively quiet filmmaking debut about a bitter feud between two families, insults and violence coincide. And more than just creating an instant visceral viewer response to the film and its inhabitants, the bleak foreshadowing and bursts of hatred makes one think just as much about what we’re not being presented onscreen. Particularly we find ourselves dwelling upon what isn’t being said or done and what may or may not have happened in the past to the wounded, struggling young men depicted throughout the film. It’s only when you realize you’re that invested in a film that your mind begins to race to understand each nuance as if somehow you can reach inside the screen to intervene or mediate that you realize you’re in the hands of a masterful storyteller.

Produced by George Washington and All the Real Girls director David Gordon Green, Nichols’ award-winning festival favorite has garnered unprecedented word-of-mouth support from such notable critics as its greatest champion, Roger Ebert. It's been frequently compared to a modern day Greek tragedy, a Shakespearean epic, biblical morality play, as well as a new spin on the legendary feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys. While every one of those parallels that have been drawn are indeed correct, one realizes more than anything and only within a few moments of Shotgun Stories, that this story is so effective because it's painted using many of the same brushstrokes as numerous other Southern Gothic morality plays, where the sparsely populated canvas is filled with wide open spaces and the dialogue is lean, muscular and only employed when absolutely necessary.

Not to mention there’s something about Nichols’ work that feels as though it could only happen in the United States as the sense that an American tragedy looms heavily as soon as we witness our main character, Son Hayes (Michael Shannon), a fish farm employee with a weakness for gambling, change his shirt to reveal that the overly scarred skin on his back resembles a bullet strewn battlefield. Additionally, upon discovering that the formerly abusive, drunk father who’d abandoned him and his two brothers had passed away, we realize that the father took the American opportunity of a second chance to become a born-again Christian, quit the bottle, and start a whole new family with four sons he’s doted on who live nearby in far better condition than Son’s discarded brood.

While the bitter mother who raised them refuses to go to the funeral, Son and his other apathetically named brothers, the loyal, sweet natured Boy (Douglas Ligon) who coaches children’s basketball and lives in a van overlooking the river, and the youngest brother Kid (Barlow Jacobs) make an appearance wherein, fueled by so many years of resentment and anger, Son curses his biological father and spits on his grave. In this volatile combination of insult and action, a war is declared by the four newest Hayes boys who consider Son, Boy, and Kid to be “a pack of dogs” without manners and they’re all too eager to get revenge.

What begins as a series of hard stares, dangerous pranks, and macho confrontations soon escalates into inevitable violence and although we’re prepared for it early on, it still comes as a shock when the boys start trying to one-up each other with an eye for an eye. Interestingly playing off that biblical warning that soon everyone will be blind, Nichols introduces us to a Shakespearean clown-like character named Shampoo (G. Alan Wilkins). He initially seems to be a laughable slacker but gradually grows into first an observer of the increasing rivalry but also an outside agitator as he not only eggs them on by reporting gossip overheard from the new brothers to the old ones but also in a climactic moment teaches one angry brother how to prepare a shotgun.

Still, admirably, much like the dialogue that is only offered when it’s crucial, the director isn’t one to revel in violence or go overboard in too much symbolism, which is quite a feat for a new filmmaker and especially one who’s following in the footsteps of such a rich historical tradition of classical tales of familial revenge. In the end it’s another one of those excellent, underrated independent films that may otherwise go unnoticed if it weren’t for its tremendous success earning awards and nominations from festivals across the country.

Impressively, Shotgun Stories feels far more naturalistic and real than most Hollywood films which deal with revenge-based violence and benefits from not only stellar acting especially by scene stealer Ligon in a heartbreaking role but also for its crisp cinematography which is punctuated by a nice, subtle score that becomes all the more apparent on repeat viewings, especially considering that the DVD offers an option to watch Shotgun Stories with a music only track from the band Lucero and composer, musician Ben Nichols. Featuring a photo gallery as well as trailers and an insightful audio commentary from writer/director Jeff Nichols, Shotgun Stories is one sleeper you won’t want to miss and one that — much like the effects of a shot — will probably continue to ricochet as more viewers discover this hidden work I highly recommend.

Meet Bill

Alternate Title: Bill (2007)

Directors: Bernie Goldman & Melisa Wallack

Replacing the storm clouds and rain that established the dour tone of Gore Verbinski’s mirthless windy city set “dramedy” The Weather Man for sunnier skies and a lighter, brighter change of scenery, the similarly themed Aaron Eckhart vehicle Meet Bill not only benefits from the false sense of inviting warmth in its location change but also adds a subtle ironic counterpoint to the unraveling of our neurotic main character.

Whether he’s playing the cocky tobacco spokesman in Thank You For Smoking, the sleazy, racist, used car salesman adulterer in Nurse Betty, or the handsome, grown up boy scout in the final season of TV’s Frasier, like a lot of attractive men, Eckhart seems to have the most fun playing against his appearance and this latest performance is no exception.

Like Nicolas Cage’s Weather Man character, Bill (Eckhart) is filled with self-loathing and dysfunction but whereas Cage portrayed an aggressively ambitious, narcissistic louse, Bill is the type of guy whose name you’d probably immediately forget as soon as you shook his hand at a cocktail party, which makes the film’s poster all the more fitting. In fact, his own wife Jess (Elizabeth Banks) and smug, contemptuous and condescending in-laws including his boss and father-in-law, Mr. Jacoby (Holmes Osborne) and Jacoby’s sycophantic son John Jr. (Todd Louiso) hardly seem aware of him at all, except when the time comes to send him on meaningless errands, of course with the perpetual warning that he better not screw anything up.

Unhappily saddled with a trivial position at the Jacoby’s ironically named Family Freedom Bank, Bill’s rank as a useless V.P. is repeatedly in lieu of his true, unnamed position as the family’s whipping boy from running off copies like a glorified secretary to fetching the fresh kill of the Jacoby men from their latest hunt. Prone to second guessing every move Bill makes, it’s hardly a wonder that in that sort of environment, Bill seldom has the courage to make one on his own and although outwardly, Bill seems to have grown accustomed to constantly being patronized, internally, he’s a volcano ready to explode.

Nevertheless, as harsh as the Jacoby family is on Bill, like most insecure and sensitive individuals, he’s his own worst enemy. Sure enough, all the proof we need for Bill’s self-loathing prophecies can be found in the film’s opening minutes as we encounter the overweight, poorly groomed man sizing himself up in a bathroom mirror and in an unmerciful voice-over critiquing every aspect of not only his professional and personal life but his physical appearance as well.

It’s an image that one doesn’t often associate with conventional masculinity, even in our contemporary era of metrosexuals. And while granted, the screenplay for Meet Bill was in fact penned by a woman (Melisa Wallack who co-directed the film with Bernie Goldmann), the concerns that Bill expresses to himself don’t seem that far out of left field and any woman who’s been privy to the inner workings of the heterosexual middle aged male mind know that-- despite what the media would like us to believe-- both genders have similar preoccupations when it comes to their appearance.

Needless to say, what Bill needs most in life is change, and his unlikely agent to do so comes in the form of an unnamed precocious teenage boy (actor Logan Lerman in a role credited simply as The Kid) who bursts into Bill’s restroom of frustration to escape a school official. Possibly impressed by the fact that Bill doesn’t squeal on the youngster or perhaps drawn with pathos driven curiosity to the adult’s obvious midlife crisis , The Kid latches onto Bill like a magnet, and despite the elder man’s protests, surreptitiously maneuvering to become the student Bill is fast-talked into mentoring as part of a company-wide volunteer program.

However, we quickly realize that in Bill’s case, The Kid is the one doing most of the mentoring, helping Eckhart develop a stronger backbone in saying “no” for the first time in his life, supporting the man’s odd desire to open up a doughnut franchise to free himself from the Jacoby stranglehold and more importantly, coming to the rescue with a bizarre plan for revenge after Bill discovers that his wife has been having an affair.

If it sounds like a spoiler, rest assured it isn’t, since indication that Jess has been fooling around is introduced nearly from the get-go as we, along with Bill, sense an uncomfortably worrisome level of intimacy between Jess and Chip, (Timothy Olyphant), the local, cheesy “On the Scene” news guy. One of those local pretentious celebrities not unlike the one Cage played in The Weather Man, Chip is the type of guy we dislike immediately, possibly because—as his name implies—we know he’s going to chip away at Bill from the moment the two share a scene. Although, perhaps if we would have known how much fun it would be to watch Bill crumble, we would’ve thanked Chip instead of hating him from the start.

Innocuous, predictable, yet refreshingly affable thanks to the lead actors, Meet Bill thankfully avoids the trappings of raunchy, toilet driven humor for its genre and sadly after debuting at The Toronto Film Festival, failed to garner a wide theatrical release before being unceremoniously dropped on DVD shelves. And although her beautiful face appears prominently on the DVD box as a selling point, Jessica Alba turns in a nice if tragically underwritten performance in a very minor role as a kind lingerie salesgirl on whom The Kid nurses a hopeless crush. However, much like the surprising friendship between Bill and The Kid does feel a bit conveniently cinematic (and owes a great deal to Rushmore and Harold and Maude), admirably Alba’s role never feels clichéd, even when The Kid enlists her help in trying to make Jess jealous by pretending she’s the new woman in Bill’s life.

Despite an over-the-top third act which makes the unfortunate decision to abandon the film’s more subtle and clever style of humor in favor of going for bigger and broader gags to garner larger chuckles, the uneven but surprisingly enjoyable film is far more viewer friendly than your local gloomy Weather Man. And while it’s hardly on par with more sophisticated midlife crisis fare such as Sideways or Little Miss Sunshine, it’s a small gem of a sleeper. It’s also one that, for those who take the time to seek it out, offers additional evidence that Eckhart-- the same man who first made a terrifying impression on moviegoers in his dark roles in Neil LaBute’s first two films and most recently took on the role of Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight-- is quite a versatile performer with equal gifts in drama and comedy, or more accurately, to cite Bill’s genre-- in dramedy.

Step Brothers

Director:
Adam McKay

In the gospel according to Robin Williams, Eddie Murphy, Bill Murray, Steve Martin, Jim Carrey, Ben Stiller, Adam Sandler and even Will Ferrell, to become a successful comedic actor in Hollywood, it’s traditional practice that you go for giggles first and awards later. Along the way, these stars and others have literally done anything for a laugh from sticking bananas in tailpipes in Beverly Hills Cop to beating themselves up in a bathroom in Liar, Liar before suddenly these multimillion dollar men decide they’d like the opportunity go from pratfall to highbrow in order to earn some indie film cred, show off their acting chops, and maybe earn a golden statue or two in the process.

Unfortunately, regardless of numerous accolades and positive critical acclaim, the public usually isn’t as supportive of seeing someone like Adam Sandler cry in Spanglish or Reign Over Me. And by staying away from theatres in droves, it sends a loud and clear message to Hollywood that when it comes time for spending our hard earned dollar, we’d rather be the ones who cry… in fits of laughter, that is. More importantly, despite mixed views, when these stars stretch their range from comedy to drama, it reminds viewers just how skilled one must be as a performer to have made humor look so effortless, which becomes especially apparent when “serious” actors decide to tackle comedy to sometimes disastrous results. It’s become an oft-repeated phrase that the worst thing one can do as an actor in a comedy is to try to be funny and typically, that’s precisely the crime most serious actors are guilty of when they make the leap from Shakespeare territory to Judd Apatow country.

With this in mind, it’s been a refreshing and delightfully unexpected surprise to discover the ridiculous hilarity of former independent film favorite John C. Reilly as he’s gone from his earlier work in films like Casualties of War, Boogie Nights, The Thin Red Line, Magnolia, The Hours, The Good Girl and Gangs of New York to dazzling all of us with his Oscar nominated turn in Chicago. While his role in that film was filled with emotion most notably on display in the show-stopping number “Mr. Cellophane,” it recalled some of the comedic spark he’d begun to ignite even briefly in his previous roles. And after showing up for an un-credited daring turn as a bullying monk in Anger Management, the comedy world took note, and Reilly has just gotten funnier with each passing year, making the sad-sack character he cornered the market on in the past seem like a distant memory, especially when he was paired alongside Will Ferrell for the 2006 Nascar comedy, Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby.

The freewheeling, improvisational style of Ferrell clicked so well with Reilly’s unlimited range that even when the film threatened to take a few wrong turns and go off course, seeing the two of them together is what elevated that film above some of Ferrell’s lackluster comedies over the past few years as he’s spread himself far too thin. While Ferrell made the bold decision to forgo another easy paycheck to appear in a few serious works, including a tremendous turn in the woefully underrated Stranger than Fiction before returning to his humorous roots, Reilly continued to dabble with comedy, becoming an Apatow favorite after his work in director Jake Kasdan’s Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story.

However, as good as the men were solo, audiences who’d begun wearing out their Frat Pack comedy DVDs including Talladega, Anchorman, Wedding Crashers, Old School, Dodgeball, Semi-Pro and others longed for the two to reunite. And working with their Talladega team of director/co-writer Adam McKay and producer Judd Apatow, they’ve finally done so. With this in mind, they go from Talladega’s “Shake and Bake” to “Dragon” and “Nighthawk” a.k.a. Dale and Brennan in the far trashier but downright hilarious new release, Step Brothers.

Middle-aged, lazy and filled with a narcissistic sense of entitlement, the two star as overgrown children with one of the most twisted versions of Peter Pan Syndrome you’re likely to see in a mainstream comedy. Still living at home, without the benefit of college education and little in the way of job prospects which would undoubtedly interfere with their overreliance on video games, fanboy culture, junk food and round the clock television, Dale (Reilly) and Brennan (Ferrell) leech off their respective parents, played by Mary Steenburgen and Richard Jenkins (The Visitor).

Predictably however, just minutes into the film, at an out-of-town work conference, the parents meet and decide to marry after an impulsive coupling. Even odder, their horny hookup becomes filled with greater glee when the strangers bond in a hotel suite amidst the realization that they’re both stricken with the same ailment of not being able to kick their roughly forty year old children out of their houses. Although the bliss of the newlyweds is cut short when Nancy (Steenburgen) and Brennan move into the home occupied by Jenkins’ Robert Doback and Brennan’s equally immature new stepbrother Dale.

After sizing each other up on the front lawn whereby they state their wish to go by tougher monikers (the aforementioned Dragon and Nighthawk), the new family make a strained attempt at bonding over dinner. As expected when the “boys” are forced to share a room with one another and proceed to menace each other with vicious, foul-mouthed threats, in the following days it escalates into physical brutality culminating in an over-the-top fight which nearly tears apart the entire house.

However, soon the foes become fast friends when they unexpectedly bond upon the discovery that Brennan’s smug, yuppie, pompous, name-dropping, slang-happy, SUV driving younger brother Derek (Adam Scott) is an even bigger jerk than both of them put together. But after Derek-- who’s not above insulting his wife (Kathryn Hahn) and forcing his children into a sing along-- makes it his new mission to sell Robert’s home for a monster profit so the elders can retire, thereby forcing Dale and Brennan out of the house, the two newly aligned step brothers must concoct a grand scheme first to sabotage Derek’s real estate ambitions while avoiding taking on anything resembling a job.

Quickly, as expected and par for the Frat Pack comedy course, they realize that their antics are starting to drive an irreparable wedge in their parents’ relationship and understand that—better late than never and definitely on their own terms—it’s time to attempt to grow up. And while the third act falters and feels a bit forced in rushing to wrap up all the loose ends, it’s saved by a truly memorable musical number at a Catalina Wine Mixer that is sure to get fans recommending it to others, telling them that it’s something they’ll just have to see to believe.

Earning its “R” rating only moments into the movie, the overwhelmingly foul-mouthed and mean-spirited first forty-five minutes of the film threatens to kill the successful and genuinely earnest humor that follows. While it may leave a bad taste in your mouth—especially considering some of the unnecessarily vulgar sight gags, not to mention the guilty feeling of finding humor in something so juvenile-- it’s the charm of Reilly and Ferrell that saves the film.

Although you’ll definitely want to keep your children away, despite the appeal of the leads since the comedy isn’t as family friendly as the laughs served up in Talladega, the presence of the two and the sheer exuberance on display in their performances reminds us that no matter how cruel the actions of the characters are, you just know that it’s done with the best of intentions. And ultimately you can’t help but buy into the silliness as they damn near break their necks in order to just make us laugh, making Step Brothers a wickedly funny, if uneven blend of a little surprisingly sweet and some horrifically sour comedy.

Note: Be sure to stay in your seats after the credits begin to roll as Reilly and Ferrell exact revenge on a group of playground bullies in an admittedly tasteless yet unforgettably hilarious finale.