9/29/2014
Blu-ray Review: God's Pocket (2014)
In God’s Pocket, the mourning mother played by Mad Men actress Christina Hendricks relies on her maternal instinct in trusting that there’s much more to the “accidental” death of her son than the yarn being spun by his coworkers.
Moreover, just like the character embodied by Hendricks, her onscreen Mad costar (and occasional TV episode helmer) turned offscreen Pocket director John Slattery calls upon his background as an actor to construct several compelling scenes throughout his feature filmmaking debut, which he also co-wrote.
And fittingly not only are these moments masterfully crafted – paying homage to the works that had inspired him in the past on both stage and screen as Pocket salutes everyone from Eugene O’Neill and Arthur Miller to John Huston, Brian DePalma, Martin Scorsese and John Cassavetes – but Slattery also infuses each with the opportunity to showcase the talents of his gifted ensemble cast.
Set in the eponymous working class Philadelphia neighborhood that’s tight-knit for all expect those who weren’t born and raised there – Pocket’s cast is headed up by the late Philip Seymour Hoffman (who also served as a producer on the project) in one of his final performances.
A low level hood, Hoffman’s Mickey Scarpato can’t seem to please anyone regardless of how many shortcuts he takes and how hard he tries to fit into the surroundings he adopted when he married Hendricks’s local girl Jeanie.
A natural beauty that’s not unaware of her effect on men, Jeanie’s ability to use her feminine wiles to get her way and intuitive talent for reading people seems to stop right at her own home as she fails to see the sweet boy she raised for the bigoted, angry, violent young man he’s become.
In this saga filled with otherwise less than beautiful losers, the pulse of “the Pocket” is kept in check by the beautiful yet unapologetically blunt prose penned (and performed in a moving bookended voiceover) by Pocket native turned part-time newspaper columnist and full-time drunk Richard Shellburn (embodied by Richard Jenkins).
Anchored by Shellburn as the God-like narrator of God’s Pocket, Slattery’s character driven film gets the Dennis Lehane-like atmosphere, lower class accents, and pointless arguments of overworked working class residents right in what is ultimately a throwback to ‘70s blue collar era antihero cinema filled with men who looked more like your neighbors than matinee idol movie stars.
Unfortunately the decision to focus strongly on a writer as the voice of the piece only magnifies the problems of Pocket that started in the writing stage, given the way that from a narrative standpoint everything else goes utterly wrong.
While that alone shouldn’t have been enough to lose the audience as the ‘70s were filled with existentially ambiguous scripts handled with a greater understanding of what the filmmaker wanted to say, perhaps Pocket’s greatest problem is the absence of a traditional character arc in offering any sort of emotionally satisfying (or merely complete) follow-through for the grieving Jeanie.
Of course, the pointlessness of the actions of the Pocket natives near the end of the picture does leave us with philosophical idea that – like most of life’s “accidents” even ones wherein the nature of just how accidental they are is up for debate – there’s no rhyme or reason to the who, what, where and why other than just to be present in the here and now.
However, this thesis could’ve been proven in a far more compelling way than what’s presented on the screen since as it is, we’re puzzled what it was about Peter Dexter’s novel that made Slattery so eager to adapt it for his cinematic debut.
Despite this, with the cast in question, the character-driven action is enough to distract and even entertain its viewers here and there – particularly when you evaluate certain moments separately from the overall production.
But ultimately you get the sense both in the director’s commentary track as well as while watching the tonally uneven, structurally aimless feature that Slattery was so caught up by each dramatic moment on a performance level that he didn’t stop to question how well the sum of so many disjointed parts flowed together as a less than cohesive whole.
Often contradictory, Pocket confuses us as to what – if anything – it’s trying to say given how little sense the actions of its characters make. And this shortcoming is particularly disappointing given how otherwise effective a more coherent dialogue rewrite could’ve been in one of the film’s otherwise most ambitious sequences.
In a climactic Do the Right Thing fueled standoff, a key argument about the newsman’s right to generalize (and potentially trivialize or stereotype) the people he spent his life with is questioned by a man who will suddenly hold the opposite view he had two acts earlier in a scene of Mean Streets charged justice.
Namely, in public, Hoffman’s Mickey doubles back on a statement he made in private at a moment where everything that has happened screams for him to feel the opposite. And while admittedly on the one hand, I applaud Slattery’s refusal to signpost Pocket with an overt message, on the other, memorable performances by his charismatic cast of character actors isn’t enough to save this otherwise meaninglessly melancholic slice-of-life mixed with macabre dashes of dark humor.
Fortunately for viewers, the pace picks up from a walk to a jog through the seedy side of town roughly 35 or 40 minutes into the second half of the otherwise succinct 89 minute movie. Yet here’s hoping that the otherwise talented Slattery will take a cue from his Mad costar Hendricks’ character in his next time at the helm instead of serving up a cut-and-paste character study centered on less than beautiful blue collar losers (which in and of itself borders on the same generalization of which Jenkins’s reporter is accused).
Building off the strengths evidenced here in some dynamically staged moments, Slattery should trust in his role as a cinematic storyteller to paint us a complete and thorough picture rather than simply spinning a diverting yarn where the memorable scenes fall through its many loosely woven holes like change in a ripped pocket.
Text ©2014, Film Intuition, LLC; All Rights Reserved. http://www.filmintuition.com Unauthorized Reproduction or Publication Elsewhere is Strictly Prohibited and in violation of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. FTC Disclosure: Per standard professional practice, I may have received a review copy of this title in order to evaluate it for my readers, which had no impact whatsoever on whether or not it received a favorable or unfavorable critique.
5/27/2010
DVD Review: Dear John (2010)
Nicholas Sparks Limited Edition DVD Collection (7 Films!)
Now Available to Own
Photo Slideshow
As Dear John begins, at first the casting seems a bit too on-the-nose given the fact that G.I. Joe and Stop-Loss actor Channing Tatum certainly knows how to salute with the best of the Army and Amanda Seyfried just keeps sending mail (Mamma Mia!, Letters to Juliet).
However, once you get into the movie, you realize that by-George... er, rather Nicholas Sparks, director Lasse Hallstrom has managed to hook you once again in this gorgeously photographed nostalgic love story that feels like a throwback to light melodrama of the 1950s.
And while that would normally be a criticism for anyone else other than Hallstrom, since he excels at finding a balance in sentimentality, Dear John pulls it off extraordinarily well in what I found to be a surprisingly good heart-tugging romance that wasn't bogged down heavily by the blatant who's-going-to-die-now attitude of some of author Sparks' previous movie adaptations.
Perhaps the most successful adaptation of his work since the underrated, heart-wrenching Message in a Bottle, Dear John works better than some of the rest since like Bottle, it's filled chock full of interesting subplots that strengthen the romantic main plot.
And in one case, a subplot about father and son threatens to grab our attention even more than the primary love story as soldier on leave, John Tyree (Channing Tatum) returns to his southern home where he unexpectedly falls in love with a sunny idealistic college student named Savannah (Amanda Seyfried).
With a strained relationship with his reclusive coin-collecting father (a superb Richard Jenkins) reminding John of what he's left behind or has been running away from, he finds himself increasingly running towards Savannah for two weeks of Spring Break wherein the young couple fall in love and forge a deep connection that continues after they separate and decide to correspond by numbered letters since there's no guarantee what order in which they'll arrive when you're sending overseas.
However, their relationship is tested after news of 9/11 breaks and, torn between the end of his tour in the military and life with Savannah verses fighting in Afghanistan, Tatum's John realizes he can't abandon his unit no matter how much he longs to return home.
And although – with the benefit of hindsight – that sequence is handled a little too briskly both emotionally and logically as somehow he's able to return home to the U.S. and she can meet him at the airport as if nothing has changed, the lovely thing about Dear John is that it doesn't immediately go in the directions which you assumed it'd be heading as life intervenes and they struggle in their commitment to one another so many thousands of miles apart.
Featuring great subtle turns by both Jenkins and a nice, long overdue quality part for actor Henry Thomas (Legends of the Fall), although it suffers a few bumps near the end both in the included finale and the DVD's alternate ending which I liked a bit better despite its over-sentimentality, Hallstrom's beautifully realized romance proved to be far more successful than most Sparks adaptations thanks to the intelligent handling of the script by both the filmmaker and its writer Jamie Linden.
Text ©2010, Film Intuition, LLC; All Rights Reserved. http://www.filmintuition.com Unauthorized Reproduction or Publication Elsewhere is Strictly Prohibited and in violation of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act.
FTC Disclosure: Per standard professional practice, I received a review copy of this title in order to evaluate it for my readers, which had no impact whatsoever on whether or not it received a favorable or unfavorable critique.
12/01/2008
10/07/2008
New on DVD for the Week of 10/5
Paranoid Park
Sleeping Beauty: 50th Anniversary Platinum Edition DVD
Touch of Evil (film review; not DVD)
The Visitor
You Don't Mess With the Zohan
7/25/2008
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.
4/11/2008
The Visitor
Director: Thomas McCarthy How would you react if you discovered that someone was already living your life-- not your life exactly but living the life you’d always wanted but never had the courage to attempt?
When the bored, humorless, impersonal Professor Walter Vale (Richard Jenkins) who’s been sleepwalking through his life by teaching the same course for twenty years and coasting professionally under the guise of writing a book is ordered by the dean of his Connecticut institution to present a co-authored paper at a Global Policy and Development Conference New York University, he tries to find any excuse not to go. However, his feeble excuses seem to be as unconvincing as the ones his students give him when turning in late assignments and, packing up a few pertinent belongings, he returns to an apartment he’d owned for twenty-five years which he’d shared with his late pianist wife. It's his wife's music that seems to have left a larger absence than the mostly absent Walter, as a neighbor fondly recalls her keystrokes in a way that makes us instantly aware that the reason Walter has gone through five piano teachers in a quest to learn the instrument himself is because to the man, who still wears his wedding band, the only time the piano sounded the way it should is when she’d been alive.
Startled to find fresh flowers in a vase and a light wafting out into the hallway from the bathroom, once he gets further into the apartment, Walter realizes that he is not alone, only to discover a young Muslim illegal immigrant couple has been renting the place for two months, having been tricked into the arrangement by an unseen fast-talker named Ivan. After apologetically packing up their belongings and setting off into the night, Walter’s humanity gets the better of him and he offers to share the place with the Syrian Tarek Khalil (Haaz Sleiman) and his girlfriend from Senegal by way of France, Zairab (Danai Gurira) for a few days until they can figure out their next move. Soon charmed by the earnest and friendly drummer Tarek, Walter is thrilled to find a new ally who shares his passion for music and the two embark on an amusing, surprisingly gentle and natural friendship that manages to subtly touch viewers similar to the way that the outsiders of writer/director Thomas McCarthy’s first film The Station Agent did years earlier. When a misunderstanding leads to Tarek’s arrest and detainment in an immigration detention center in Queens, Walter, who originally hadn’t wanted to leave Connecticut is surprised to now find himself with the inability to leave Tarek, Zairab and New York City out of loyalty and genuine compassion that’s strengthened into a tender, awkward courtship when Tarek’s beautiful mother Mouna (Satin Rouge’s Hiam Abbass) arrives to find out why she hasn’t heard from her son.
Winner of three awards at Method Fest, this official selection at both the Sundance and Toronto International Film Festivals is sure to strike a chord with McCarthy’s Station Agent fans but instead of on the surface deceptively being advertised as a similar cute story of opposites and oddities coming together, it’s a gentle, humanistic and moving tale that celebrates diversity and understanding throughout. Although there are a few covert political messages sprinkled throughout (along with a few overt ones), McCarthy’s deftly written and inspiringly acted work, which features a breakout role for Sleiman and a solid showcase for Jenkins, succeeds because even though it has the perfect platform to become a “message movie,” it forgoes the urge to preach. Instead, The Visitor emphasizes human relationships over sociological statements and open conversation over sound bytes. McCarthy's The Visitor is highly recommended and one of the best films I was fortunate enough to see at the 2008 Phoenix Film Festival.


















