Category: trh movie

After having Everything is Illuminated stuck on the Faux-Vo for, well, months, I finally managed to watch it yesterday. And I pretty much felt the same way about it as I felt about the book: it’s well acted, looks great, sounds great, but nothing much happens. Liev Schreiber, who wrote and directed the film, pares down the source material, omits a lot of the more fantastical elements. And those stories, the ones of the history of Trachimbrod, were my favourite parts of the book, so the film kind of fell flat for me.

Then, we also watched Tristan and Isolde, and honestly, of these two films (and my RRHB can attest), this one was certainly the better. Good, in fact. I can’t remember enough of the original story (I read it in high school, all glowy and looking for quotes to give to my my high school fellow, how embarrassing) to know if the movie is truthful or if it’s like King Arthur, all historically inaccurate and stuff, but I thought it was good.

You can tell there’s no more good TV for a while as we’re clearing off all the movies before we go away next week.

My review of The Holiday is now up on Chart. I realized that I sort of missed the chance to talk about the very cute subplot in the movie with Eli Wallach and Kate Winslet, that many other reviewers discussed in detail. And it got me thinking. I had thought about it and then decided I didn’t want to give it away, preferring instead to let the sweeter elements of the film come as a bit of surprise, but now I’m thinking I probably should have at least talked about it as a positive part of the picture.

Too late now. Also too late to sing Naomi Watts’s praises, as the cyber-stalker fellow reminded me in his comments. But she was really very good in The Painted Veil and the more I think about it, the more I like that film.

What can you do? Every sentence is a choice.

So, do you know anyone who’ll see this Mel Gibson extravaganza? I probably won’t even watch it when it comes to TMN a year from now, for free. Especially after reading this, and I almost dropped my EW right into the recycling bin when I saw Gibson on the cover. I mean really? Shut up Mel Gibson. Shut up already.

Last night Tara and I went to go see The History Boys. After having brunch with Sam, then going to my Restorative Yoga class and starting the housework, it was the perfect way to end the day.

Having not even heard of the Broadway play (shame on me) nor knowing anything about the film with the exception of having seen the trailer before Little Children, I’m glad to report I was pleasantly surprised. It’s a sharp, witty drama about a group of boys in their last year of school in England who are all vying for spots at university. And not just any school, but Cambridge and Oxford.

The boys have a wonderful relationship with a teacher, whom they dub “Hector”, played by Richard Griffiths, who teaches them not only about literature, but about the importance of learning in life. Hector’s place among the boys is challenged by the arrival of Mr. Irwin, hired by the headmaster to get the boys prepared for their admittance exams. The struggle between Hector’s old-fashioned methods of teaching and Irwin’s inspirational new way influences the boys in different ways.

A true coming of age tale that romanticizes the entire last year of school for the various different boys, the film celebrates the value of knowledge simply for the joy of learning. Like Wonder Boys, it’s a movie that doesn’t talk down to the audience, that throws in Thomas Hardy, Anne of Cleves and an odd French lesson taking place in a brothel and simply expects you to get it. Gladly, the crowd out last night was up for the challenge.

While in Vancouver last week, we ended up going to see a preview screening for Richard Linklater’s new film Fast Food Nation. Based on Eric Schlosser’s nonfiction book of the same name, Fast Food Nation weaves three very different stories together to examine the food industry in America. The first thread finds fast food chain Mickey’s marketing executive Don Anderson (Greg Kinnear) who is charged with finding out why there’s fecal matter in the meat they’re serving in their Big One burgers. While he’s investigating, he meets the young Amber (Ashley Johnson) who is working at a Mickey’s in small-town Colorado. Her story, that of innocence to social action, forms the second storyline in the film. The last thread, that of immigrant Mexican workers working at an abattoir in the same Colorado town where Amber lives, is perhaps the most poignant. Wilmer Valderrama (That 70s Show) and Catalina Sandino Moreno (Maria Full of Grace) play young lovers who escape the poverty of their homeland to work awful jobs in the meat processing plant / slaughterhouse.

It’s a full-on indie movie, complete with pretty poor art direction (please, please could someone attach the laptop in the Mickey’s exec’s office to some power outlet or at least an internet cord to make it somewhat realistic?) and that slow, sprawling narrative style that fits both the storylines and the subject matter. The film is well written and well acted, with standout performances by just about all in the cast, but I’d have to say that Bobby Canavale, who I think is one of the most underrated gems out there as the stupendously arrogant plant supervisor, and Catalina Sandino Moreno as an immigrant working for a better life, give particularly poignant performances.

Linklater saves the most gruesome bits for the end, which I don’t want to spoil by going into too much detail about, but to say that I think anyone who eats meat should see this movie. Not to be preachy and/or all high and mighty, but knowing where your food comes from and how it comes to your table should be mandatory for anyone who eats a burger at a fast food joint. All in all, I don’t think this film will do gangbusters at the box office, but it’s an important film, not only because of its message but also to show the studios that you don’t have to spend millions to capture the essence of a good picture, that all it takes is a good cast, a solid script and a bit of heart. It’s not the best movie I’ve seen all year but it’s certainly a memorable one.

It’s no secret that I love going to the movies, the popcorn, the big screen, the big, comfy chairs. What I hate about going to the movies? Everyone else at the theatre. If there’s one thing I truly despise, it’s when the other people in the theatre ruin the movie-going experience for me. The jerks. If it wasn’t the woman who arrived three minutes to screen time looking for 4 seats together, it was the knuckleheads beside me who talked through the entire movie.

“There’s Kate Winslet!”

Yes, and there are her nipples. I don’t need a running commentary of what they look like, I can also see them on the screen there, 40 feet tall and pointing directly at me. Oh, and if you’re going to wear a giant parka, please take it off before the movie starts, not during, and then please don’t lie it across me so that I’m wearing it as a blanket. And then, if you could be so kind, please don’t HIT ME THROUGH THE WHOLE MOVIE as you eat your popcorn. Seriously, my left arm is black and blue.

So. Annoying.

Annnywaaay. Tara and I went to go see Little Children on Saturday evening. Todd Field’s second movie, the follow-up to In the Bedroom, Little Children deals with some of the same themes, characters with fatal flaws, families in crisis to an extent, illicit relationships with violent consequences, etc. It’s also loooong, like In the Bedroom, which I wouldn’t have minded if the movie going experience didn’t make me want to lose my mind.

Kate Winslet plays Sarah Pierce, an unsatisfied housewife with a toddler who isn’t necessarily convinced she should be a mother. She and house-husband, failed lawyer, ex-football star Brad Adamson (the truly hunky Patrick Wilson) begin an affair that for better or worse, brings them to conclusions about their own lives that will change them forever. The second interweaving storyline involves a pedophile, Ronnie McGorvey (Jackie Earle Haley), an ex-cop Larry Hedges (Noah Emmerich), and the furor over the convicted sex offender returning to the quiet Massachusetts town to live with his mother.

The characters interact, but on a very small basis, they slip in and out of each other’s lives, more to keep them glued together and relevant than any other reason. I guess the film is more of an exploration of human nature when it’s pushed into extreme situations, what happens when happiness is tied to deceit and turns into unhappiness, the state of modern marriage, society’s obvious and necessary fear of sexual predators, and so on.

I’m batting two for two in terms of seeing films in the theatre that I both like and respect, first The Departed, and now this one. If I have one criticism of Field’s directing, it’s that he’s always looking for that one cool shot, you know, the shadow in the picture frame-type stuff that is more to prove to the audience that he’s cool than anything else. He could have shot the film clean, with none of the fancy-dancy camera moves that pulled me out rather than kept me in the picture, but on the whole, that’s a small criticism of an extremely well acted, well scripted and well directed movie.

Last night I went to go see Down in the Valley for Chart magazine. It’s not a great freelance gig (means I get a byline and not much else) but I like writing the reviews because it means I get to see movies I want to watch but don’t necessarily want to pay the full price of admission for.

Down in the Valley is a perfect example. From the trailer, it looks like an interesting little indie film about a love affair with a modern-day cowboy (Ed Norton) and a teenage girl (Evan Rachel Wood). These are my favourite kinds of movies, little indies with brooding characters, good dialogue and that push the boundaries of genres. I had high expectations. Once again, I should learn that whenever I expect anything, it usually turns out all wrong.

Oh, so, very, very wrong. First of all, all the marketing blah-blah calls the film a modern day Western. But it’s not really. Well, if, by Western you mean that Ed Norton dresses up in cowboy gear, plays with guns and drawls, well, yes, then it would qualify. But for something to be a Western in my books it needs to a) take place somewhere other than suburban Los Angeles, preferably somewhere with rolling fields and bleak landscapes and b) have a solid sense of right and wrong, with one party being “wronged” and going about with very heavy hands to “right” the situation. Anyone seen Deadwood lately? Now that’s a modern interpretation of the Western.

The giant “wrong” that takes place in this film? Ed Norton’s love interest, the very young and very attractive Evan Rachel Wood (and don’t even get me started on the rumours the two of them are actually a couple in real life), has a father who doesn’t think it’s a good idea for them to see each other. Which, you know, isn’t all that shocking considering Ed’s just about twice her age. No one says anything about that though—not her friends, not her father, in fact, the only mention of the glaring age gap comes from Tobe’s (Evan Rachel Wood, short for “October”, wha?) brother who asks upon meeting Harlan (Ed Norton): “Are you a friend of my father’s?”

Annywaay. The film progresses. They fall in love. They speak stupid dialogue to one another (“Is this your true heart talking”? I’m shocked the computer didn’t barf up a couple of vowels after he typed that one) and they have a lot of smarmy sex in a dirty, gross bathtub. Nothing says romance like that my friends, nothing.

Soon, the true nature of Harlan’s character starts to emerge. Now, there are spoilers here, so if you have any interest in the movie, don’t read any further. Seriously. Stop right now. Okay, I’ll give it to you straight: Harlan’s nuts. He’s not a ranch hand, he didn’t grow up in North Dakota and his accent’s totally fake (well, we never find that out for sure but he’s from Chino people). He invents this cowboy persona because he wants to live in time when men were men and they slept outside under the stars.

By the time Tobe figures out he’s a few logs short of a cabin, it’s too late and a tragic accident happens. Toss in the fact that he essentially kidnaps Tobe’s brother Lonnie and therein lies the “Western” part of this film. They take off into the canyons on horseback, chow down on rabbit, and camp out in a film set (appropriately an old West film set, ahem, the irony, it kills). The whole thing ends tragically in a new suburb somewhere just outside of the city, guns are popped, people are shot, tears are shed, the works.

And you know, the film had potential. It really did. It just doesn’t get there. It’s too much of a hodgepodge of obvious influences (Harlan’s cowboy Taxi Driver routine gets tired the first of the twenty times we see it). There are a couple of interesting shots, one set on a tree swing in particular, but for the most part it’s all imbued with so much metaphor and meaning (how many shots of the highway does one movie need—not this many, I tell you, not this many!) that it’s heavy handed and painful to watch. The dialogue is soap-operatic where it means to be philosophical and it’s a huge waste of meteoric talent. The real shame? There are few things on a hot summer afternoon better than a shot of Ed Norton’s stomach, sweat glistening off his tanned torso, blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight. It’s just too bad they’re all stuck in this ridiculous little movie because that’s something that I’d watch all day any day.