Review: Deliver Us From Evil (2006)

Deliver Us From Evil
documentary
2006
100 minutes
Rated R

by Scott Mendelson

Back in my high school days, I fell into reading the non-fiction works of John Douglas and Robert Ressler. Both were pioneering profilers for the FBI back in the 70s and 80s and both had extensive careers tracking and analyzing serial killers, rapists, spree killers, and the like. Although Ressler was the elder statesman of the two (he actually coined the term 'serial killer'), Douglas's work was always far more entertaining. The difference was that of tone. While Ressler often went into rants about how evil, depraved and horrible his subjects were, and how despicable their crimes were, Douglas had none of that. Douglas trusted the readers to realize the levels of sadism often on display and felt no need to point out the obvious.

Deliver Us From Evil is a documentary that, for most of its running time, dares to be clinical and almost objective. There is no narration and while the interviews are obviously edited together, there is a feeling of free-flowing conversation throughout. The subject matter is obviously inflammatory, but director Amy Berg does not sensationalize the events in question, but rather allows victims and victimizers alike to explain their actions in cold, meticulous detail.

The story in question concerns one Father Oliver O'Grady. From 1976 until 1993, he was sent to several different parishes in California, where he would befriend local families and use that trust to rape or molest the children in the household. Some were girls and some were boys, but a true victim count has never been tallied. Throughout this time, he was aided and abetted by the Catholic Church in general, and specifically Cardinal Roger Mahoney, who desperately wanted to become Arch-Bishop. Under Mahoney, more than 550 priests abused children without consequence. This movie centers merely on O'Grady, allegedly the most prolific of the offenders, and several of his victims.

If you followed the headlines in the summer of 2002, the general outline of this is not news. The concept of pedophile priests is not a new one, but the explosive allegations of that summer merely cemented what many always believed: that high ranking church officials (including the current Pope) protected the offending priests from criminal and civil punishment and also sent them from one parish to another.

While the film provides few factual revelations, it is a sobering and powerful character study of victims and their families, as well as the victimizer and his accomplices. Colorfully morbid details are tossed about and the various philosophies of the church are discussed in relation to the scandals that are present. Theories on why there are so many pedophiles in the church are offered and various stereotypes are tackled (there are just as many female victims as male, and most pedophiles are heterosexual in nature). Various histories of church dogma are also discussed in relation to the crimes in question. The film falters in its last act, as it shifts from a personal study to a grand overview of the pedophile priest issue; with the victims traveling to the Vatican to deliver a letter to the Pope. The film is at its best when it acknowledges the mass problem but centers on the few victims that are interviewed. But, at its core, the film is simply a study of a relatively objective serial rapist and the victims he left behind.

Deliver Us From Evil is not sensationalistic and refuses to attempt to shock the audience. So clinical and low-key are its descriptions of child sex crimes, that there is genuine shock when tempers do flare and profanities are actually uttered (subject matter aside, the film is a few 'f-words' away from a PG in terms of actual onscreen content). It is a dark and sobering look at a mass tragedy and shameful legacy, seen through the eyes of a few brave souls who felt it was worth talking about, as well as the main figure in the sorrow. As for why he was so willing to open up, one can only guess. Perhaps he merely wanted to have his say, no matter how damning it is. For now, it is a time capsule for when he leaves this world and, possibly, receives his punishment.

Grade: A-

Review: Hollywoodland (2006)

Hollywoodland
2006
120 minutes
Rated R

By Scott Mendelson

There are few things more annoying than a movie that keeps taking us from the story that we care about. We have a fascinating, fictionalized character study of one of the more interesting Hollywood fables, but the film keeps dragging us back into a route, run-of-the-mill film noir mystery. We have a story filled with tragedy, pathos, and potency, but the film seems far more concerned with who-dun-it, even when the culprit is pretty obvious from the get-go.

In 1959, George Reeves, best known for playing Superman on the 1950s television show, apparently shot himself in the head. For a generation of children who knew him only as Superman, this was a traumatic moment. Rumors have long since run rampant, suggesting murder most foul, rather than suicide most tragic. Hollywoodland takes that real life 'mystery' and spins a woefully conventional detective story that spans every bad Spillane cliché. But that murder most boring occasionally takes a backseat to flashbacks to the last several years of Mr. Reeves' life, and those segments provided a moving portrait of a promising actor who came of age at just the wrong time in the film industry.

George Reeves' (Ben Afflick in his best performance since Changing Lanes) career started promisingly with a supporting role in Gone With The Wind. Alas, upon returning home from the war, he found it hard to bounce back. He eventually took a job in a pilot TV show based on the comic book adventures of Superman. The show became a phenomenon and 'serious actor' Reeves was stuck with the fame, but not the fortune,of being beloved hero to children across America.

His eventual demise comes to the attention of a rather low-level private eye, Louis Simo (Adrien Brody, doing what he can to humanize a stock character). Simo's family and career is in shambles, and even his own son is traumatized by the death of the Man Of Steel (his son is devastated that Reeves used a Luger, a Nazi weapon). He hires himself into the services of Reeves' mother, who swears that murder was the cause. From here on in, it's a completely uninvolving investigation route as lovers (Diane Lane, Robin Tunney), friends (Jeffrey DeMunn, pitch perfect as his agent/manager), and duplicitous rich people (Bob Hoskins, boring perhaps for the first time ever as the head of MGM) are suspected in the crime in question. None of this is very compelling, since we all know what probably happened in real life and there is no real flair that separates this from the Reeves segment found on Unsolved Mysteries.

The snippets of the life of George Reeves are fascinating, however. Afflick perfectly captures the tragedy of a career destroyed by the very role that made him a star. One of the earliest victims of television typecasting; Reeves always found it hard to shake off the aura of Superman, a childrens' television role that he may not even have cared for all that much. To an entire generation of television viewers, children and adults alike, there was no line between Superman the character and Reeves the actor (this is demonstrated absolutely in the film's most chilling scene, an event that actually occurred).

Surely Afflick could relate to an actor whose career and credibility was undermined by the public's refusal to separate character from actor, or actor from gossip. Had he been around years earlier, Reeves could have found refuge in the studio system that would have put him in movies at a steady rate. Had he found fame later, he would have found audiences more willing to see their hero in different, more challenging roles. Caught between the two Hollywoods of the 20th century, Reeves never had a chance at breaking out of his world-famous tomb. The final scenes, which go from a sad meeting with manager Arthur Weismann (DeMunn) to the viewing of a key piece of film, are heartbreaking in their subtlety and underscored pathos.

Alas, by presuming that we care about a fictionalized murder mystery over a character study of one of the most famous actors of the last fifty years, Hollywoodland undermines that which makes it unique in the first place. We are stuck with a boring 'mystery' for which the solution is obvious, and thus the conflicts contained unlikely. First time director Allen Coulter should have left the conspiracy theories to the late Robert Stack. Especially when he had a far more fascinating and involving story at his fingertips, waiting to be fully explored.

Grade: C+

Review: Everyone's Hero (2006)

Everyone's Hero
2006
80 minutes
Rated G

by Scott Mendelson

When I was a kid, back in the 1980s, feature-length cartoons were the epitome of 'uncool'. Aside from the occasional quality Universal cartoon (An American Tail, Land Before Time) pretty much the only studio making them was Disney, and they were nearing the end of their 20-year rut (dating basically from The Jungle Book until The Great Mouse Detective and The Little Mermaid). In general, feature length cartoons were immature, badly animated, poorly written, and condescending to the nth degree. In other words, cartoons were purely for 'babies'.

Everyone's Hero is, alas, a cartoon 'for babies'. It's a cartoon in the worst sense of the term. While, occasional clunkers aside, animated features have vastly improved in the last fifteen years, Everyone's Hero is an unfortunate reminder of the bad old days. The dialogue is overwritten, on the nose, and full of the most obvious clichés. The acting is over-the-top, obnoxiously full volume, and cloying. The plot is full of holes and horribly paced, and the attempt at portraying a very specific time in history backfires by vilifying certain people over others purely for the sake of the story. The film is easily the worst animated feature that I've seen since Shark Tale, and the only reason that it's getting distribution is because it was directed in part by Christopher Reeve.

The plot, in brief… Yankee Irving (Jake T. Austin) is a young boy who loves baseball but is quite terrible at it. More than anything, he admires his dad (a security guard at Yankee stadium) and Babe Ruth, who is currently leading the Yankees to World Series victory against the evil Chicago Cubs (I'm not kidding… the Cubbies are portrayed as downright evil in this film). Alas, the diabolical owner of the Cubs devises a scheme to steal Babe Ruth's bat, a plan that involves the evil pitcher Lefty (William H. Macy, proving to young children that south paws are fiendish bat-stealing, child attacking villains) and results in Yankee's dad (Mandy Patinkin) losing his job. Thus, Yankee sets out to find the bat and take it to Chicago before the series deciding game. Alleged adventure and morals about never giving up ensue. After about 40 minutes of this silliness, which includes a screeching and fatally obnoxious Rob Reiner as a talking baseball and a screeching and annoying Whoopi Goldberg as a talking bat, I gave up.

Just as one can never know how Stanley Kubrick would have improved Eyes Wide Shut had he not died mid-production, one cannot know how much of the blame to foist upon the late Reeve. His 1997 directorial debut, In The Gloaming, was a devastatingly good HBO drama about a young AIDS-stricken son returning home to die. His post-accident acting roles were hit and miss, from a silly, misguided remake of Rear Window, to a delightful guest turn on The Practice (where he obviously had fun playing a paraplegic who is still capable of murder).

We can't say whether he would have approved of Reiner's unforgivable overacting, which demanded that he talk at a constant pace and scream every line at top volume (a common trait of the bad 1980s toons). We can't say whether he would have approved a boring storyline that demonizes the Chicago Cubs and all of their fans, and ignores every single Yankee save for Babe Ruth. Ironically, for a movie about perseverance and personal courage, the film absolutely ignores the one Yankee of that period that symbolized those traits, Lou Gehrig.

We hope that he would have approved of the one solid piece of the film, a small scene that gives the spotlight to the much forgotten Negro League, a part of history that most of the target audience has probably never heard of. The film further spins off the rails by having its young hero ignore the obvious logical option for saving the day, which serves only to prolong the story at several key junctures (the late Chicago native Gene Siskel of course referred to this phenomenon as the Idiot Plot). And the climax blows all credibility by allowing the young hero to achieve the sort of opportunity that no actual child in his situation would ever hope to accomplish, thus undermining what could have been a fable about what a young go-getter could actually do under adversity.

Everyone's Hero is a boring, trite, obnoxious would-be fable about never giving up, yet the filmmakers obviously gave up before finessing this work to the level of adequate entertainment. To quote the would-be catchphrase, the filmmakers and cast surely should have kept on swinging.

Grade: D

Review: Snakes On A Plane (2006)

Snakes On A Plane
2006
97 minutes
rated R

by Scott Mendelson

Snakes On A Plane may be the first strike in a somewhat troubling new concept. For the last six months, there has been a homegrown Internet campaign of excitement based around this film, primarily due to the delightfully blunt title and the idea of Samuel L. Jackson doing his bad-ass shtick in a B-movie popcorn film. This is all fine and good, as its always nice when a film catches heat purely through word of mouth and ground-level excitement. However, this is the first case I can recall of filmmakers doing reshoots and adding in extra material based on the wanting of online fans and geeks who haven't even seen the film. Alas, it is those very additions that undermine an otherwise sleek and worthwhile B-horror thriller. Be careful what you wish for.

Agent Flynn (Samuel L. Jackson, playing it completely straight save for fan-requested bits) is entrusted with a witness (Nathan Phillips) against ruthless mob boss Eddie Kim (Byron Lawson). Onboard a flight to the trial, Jackson, his witness, and a whole variety of updated disaster movie clichés (the Paris Hilton-wannabee, the gangsta rapper and his posse, the twins flying alone for the first time, the young mother, the snotty foreigner, the flight attendant who turned down early retirement) discover that they are in the most unusual of disaster scenarios. Kim has smuggled a whole planeload of very poisonous snakes on board, in the hopes of creating enough carnage to crash the plane.

The next two acts become a race to destroy the snakes and land the plane before those who have been bitten succumb. It's almost a remake of Zero Hour, the disaster movie that inspired Airplane!. Many scenes feel like subtle homage to Airplane!. On its face, its a fun, exciting, and relatively entertaining ride. Scenes on the ground, with a levelheaded and amusingly droll snake expert working with the FBI to try to solve the situation, are great fun and the alleged science is convincing enough to be enjoyed. The snakes attack with fury, picking off quite a few passengers (at one point someone claims that 50 people have already died, but that seems a bit high based on what we've seen). As with most disaster movies, some passengers and crew unfairly die and others unfairly live. With a couple exceptions (blame the geeks), the violence is not played for laughs. The acting is as good as it needs to be, and Nathan Phillips provides a worthwhile portrayal of a decent guy trying to do the right thing. His guilt and helplessness at the situation he indirectly caused is surprisingly poignant.

I have just described the movie as it was originally intended. However, thanks to the drumbeats of armchair filmmakers, the film was altered to give it a higher 'cool quotient'. Now, in a relatively serious thriller, we have comic scenes of gratuitous nudity, comic scenes of 'funny' violence (the first two snake attacks were reshot to make the teen boys scream 'cool!'), and lots of gratuitous profanity. The worst example of this is the most famous. At the request of these geeks, we have a scene towards the finale where Sam Jackson, completely out of character, blatantly on a different set, and not looking at anyone, screams that hes "tired of these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!" Aside from the fact that this moment is completely out of character and forced, the obviousness of the insert (think Raymond Burr in Godzilla) completely takes you out of the film. The 'amped-up' film is still not terribly gory or bloody; so don't expect a gore fest (The Descent will provide that, and it will scare the crap out of you too).

What we have is a relatively good thriller, which is harmed by the studio caving in to their worst instincts to appease the lowest denominator of geek. Hopefully this is a one-time deal and not the start of a disturbing trend. Movies should be made by filmmakers and digested by moviegoers. If fans don't like George Lucas changing his own movies in any way he pleases, then they have the right not to buy Star Wars merchandise. This absurd and scary concept of fan ownership can only result in more crass, dumber, sillier film making. Prophets of doom aside, most of Snakes On A Plane is a worthwhile B-movie thriller with fun characters, decent production values, and a worthwhile plot to support its initial concept. It's worth seeing in its present form, but, if given the eventual choice, I'll buy the original PG-13 version.

Grade: B-

Review: Akeelah And The Bee (2006)

Akeelah And The Bee
2006
112 minutes
Rated PG

by Scott Mendelson

About this time every year, the critics and film journalists crow about just how awful the year has thus far been. As they talk up the fall's Oscar contenders, they bemoan the alleged lack of quality summer fare and winter wonders. Alas, for once, I agree with them this year. The film calendar of 2006 has been a vast desert wasteland of near misses (Mission: Impossible 3, X-Men: The Last Stand, Hollywoodland), brain-dead popcorn filler (Da Vinci Code, Everyone's Hero, World Trade Center), and truly heartbreaking screw-ups (Superman Returns and Lady In The Water). Never in my life can I remember a whole year with so few winners, a paucity to the point where good, high-quality, professional entertainments are heralded as masterpieces (The Illusionist, V For Vendetta, Little Miss Sunshine). But there is one honest to goodness masterpiece that was released this year. In all likelihood you didn't see it. It comes out on DVD on September 5^th. Don't make the same mistake twice.

The plot: Akeelah Anderson (Keke Palmer, already showing range with a completely different character from this year's Madea's Family Reunion) is a middle-schooler in a poor, predominantly African-American neighborhood. Living by her mother (Angela Bassett, terrific per norm) following the murder of her father a few years ago, she tries to deal with the various struggles of growing up poor in a school system that can't provide as well as peers who scorn those who dare to use their brain. Through happenstance, she ends up winning her school spelling bee and is encouraged by her principal (Curtis Armstrong, playing it straight) to partake in further levels of competition. Although she has a knack for spelling, she finds she needs tutelage. Enter Dr. Larabee (Laurence Fishburne, back in low-key mentor mode), a former UCLA professor and spelling bee champion who reluctantly agrees to coach her.

That's all you get. The plot alternates between tried and true convention and shocking surprise. Knowing full well the expectations of the genre he is in, writer/director Doug Atchison grounds the film in a mild gritty realism, while being unafraid of high emotions and subtle character shadings. While the film earns its PG, there are undertones of the poor, often unsafe streets that Akeelah lives on. Refreshingly, there isn't the obligatory homicide that often ends the second act in such films, having a random friend/relative get killed to show the down and out hero what he/she is fighting for (Step Up, Coach Carter, Poetic Justice, Gridiron Gang, etc). Despite the snippet of the mean streets, there are no real villains. Even the film's representative for gang culture (Eddie Staples, from My Name Is Earl) gets a charming, redemptive scene of humanity and warmth.

Yes, there are a few clichés here and there, but clichés become such because, when done correctly, or subverted slightly, they work. Yes, Dr. Larabee has his own demons to face down, Akeelah's mother is reluctant to support her at first, and Akeelah's best friend feels left out, but these worn-devices are resolved in unexpected ways (and at different points in the story than you'd expect). Even the climactic spelling bee match has several potent surprises, concluding with easily the most original and classiest ending to a sports film since Tin Cup. On a slightly related note, why is it that allegedly Oscar-worthy underdog stories like Cinderella Man that target 'mature adults' often paint their opposing athletes as simplistic, inhuman monsters, while alleged 'kiddie fare' allows the hero's opponents to be fully fleshed out characters and worthy adversaries?

In the end, Akeelah And The Bee works. The characters are sympathetic and fully dimensional. The story, while slightly familiar, is full of rich plot twists and character development. And the acting is top-notch across the board (perhaps, with this, What's Love Got To Do With It, and the play Fences, Bassett and Fishburne should be required to work together once every few years). In a year of disappointments, Akeelah And The Bee dares to be far better than it has any right to be. It is simply a terrific movie and all-ages entertainment of the best variety. Unfortunately, due to the early theatrical release date and lackluster box-office, its Oscar chances are all but non-existent. Nonetheless, as of this late date in 2006, Akeelah And The Bee is easily the best film of the year.

Grade: A+

Review: World Trade Center (2006)

World Trade Center
2006
126 minutes
rated PG-13

by Scott Mendelson

World Trade Center is a relatively uninvolving story about two policemen who enter a burning building and are trapped in rubble when said building collapses. On it's face, the film isn't terribly moving, the performances are barely adequate, and several key characters are rendered in such broad strokes as to be unsettling or unsympathetic. It's simply a badly made film, but will that matter to audiences distracted by a 'nationalistic obligation' to embrace it?

World Trade Center concerns two policemen who were trapped in one of the World Trade buildings in NYC when those buildings were hit by passenger jets and collapsed on 9-11-01. Officers John McLouglin (Nicolas Cage, doing what he can with very little character depth) and Will Jimeno (Michael Pena, shining in the proverbial lead role) make their way to the police station on that fateful Tuesday morning. After receiving word that a plane has hit the World Trade Center, they make their way to the building to assist with rescue efforts. They enter the tower right as it falls and traps them in the rubble.

The first 25 minutes are simply spellbinding and riveting, as we see pieces of the attack from the eyes of unknowing victims (this is the only part that feels like an Oliver Stone film). The sense of futility is stunning. It's obvious that the city was completely unprepared in equipment and technology for this event (the stinging acknowledgment of this is the only thing that comes close to making any political statements, in an otherwise apolitical film). Unfortunately, once John and Will fall into the ground, the film becomes awash in melodramatic clichés.

The film then alternates between scenes of John and Will trying to keep each other awake, scenes of their would-be rescuers, and scenes of their families suffering. The scenes of our two attempted heroes are worthwhile and entertaining. There is a tangible sense of dread, as they both know that random fragments of the building or a random spark could kill them at any moment. Unfortunately, the family grieving scenes frankly reek of Lifetime clichés. Actually, the 90s Lifetime movie about a woman trapped in rubble after the Oklahoma City bombing (Oklahoma City: A Survivor's Story) is actually better than this film.

The wives are underdeveloped and their children alternate between cloy and vile. John's son spends his scenes yelling at his mother for not 'doing something'; behavior that is so naive and cruel that his heartlessness hurts that whole portion of the movie. Meanwhile, Will's pregnant wife (Maggie Gyllenhaal) has a slow nervous breakdown, but her scenes of strife are nothing we haven't seen before in other, better movies. Weirdly enough, Will's wife's (Caucasian) family is presented as energetic, spirited, and can-do Americans, while Will's (non-Caucasian) family is represented mainly by his mother kneeling on the floor and helplessly weeping. Intentional or not, the symbolism is disturbing.

Speaking of disturbing, the third thread concerns Dave Karnes (Michael Shannon), a former marine who spearheaded the rescue effort. Presented as a zealot who drove thousands of miles to help, he is played (unintentionally?) as a genuinely scary figure, whose good deeds don't mask the fact that he's quite frightening in his zealotry (he has cold, dead eyes, believes that he is on a holy quest, and speaks like he'll kill you if you disagree with him). Apparently, several humanizing details were cut out of the film; so all were left with is a Christian fanatic (as opposed to a merely devout Christian) who finds his way onto Ground Zero in the dead of night.

Oddly, the film strives so hard to be uplifting and inspiring that it almost forgets to present that day as a monumental tragedy as well (a late, brief scene involving Viola Davis as a grieving mother feels tacked on). Alas, the recent flawed remake of Poseidon presented a more potent look at the tragedy of mass death (the mass drowning of the ballroom passengers, with Andre Braugher hugging Stacy Ferguson as they await doom, is heartbreaking).

So, in the end, we have a mediocre disaster film with undeveloped or unsympathetic characters. We have cliched dialogue and situations along with a boring second act. The film fails the key rule of based on truth film making. If this story were complete fiction, would it still be worth seeing or half as effective? The filmmakers hope that moviegoers will be swept up in the 'oh, but it's about 9/11' glow and ignore the fact that this is really a mediocre motion picture. This is not the great 9/11 epic of our time, and you don't have a patriotic duty to embrace it.

Grade: C-

Review: Little Miss Sunshine (2006)

Little Miss Sunshine

2006
100 minutes
rated R

by Scott Mendelson

When debating the greater meaning of a given motion picture, often the subject that comes up is who exactly is being represented in a movie? Sometimes it's various minorities complaining about a certain portrayal (for example, veteran role-model Denzel Washington playing a homicidal cop in Training Day) and the ensuing debate on whether that portrayal represents that entire minority as opposed to just that character. Sometimes it's a certain group being annoyed at the inexplicable choice to portray their alleged pain (see Gynneth Paltrow being the stand-in for obese women in Shallow Hal or anyone and everyone from Memoirs Of A Geisha). Then there is the opposite situation, when a filmmaker claims to portray a more general overview of a given situation like race-relations (Crash) or male-female romance war (Closer), which then undermines the films quality as we laugh at how very specific characters are being used to define the broad overview of the issue at hand.

In general, movies that do not strive to encapsulate a whole issue or group of people within their specific narrative are far more successful. Brokeback Mountain was not about every gay man in America, just Jake and Ennis. And Training Day was not representing every corrupt African-American cop in America, just Alonzo. This brings us to Little Miss Sunshine, which is frankly the best family drama/comedy since Thumbsucker. It involves at it's core a very dysfunctional family and their struggles with failure and disillusionment. It does not represent your family. It does not represent my family. It is very specifically about the Hoover clan and only about them.

In brief: The Hoover clan is going through some very tough times. Richard (Greg Kinnear, proving again that he is now and may always be the best actor ever to first be a talk show host) is a failed motivational speaker who is banking on an offhand promise of a book publication deal. Sheryl (Toni Collette, great per usual and on a role after In Her Shoes) is the frustrated and bitter matriarch. Grandpa (Alan Arkin) has recently moved in after being kicked out of his nursing home. Their elder son, Dwayne (Paul Dano) has taken a vow of silence until he joins the Air Force Academy (a goal which is obviously less about flying and more about escaping his clan). Sheryls brother, Frank (Steve Carell, wonderfully low-key and completely at the service of the film) will soon be moving in, as he recently tried to kill himself for reasons best left unexplained here.

Finally, we have Olive (Abigail Breslin), the seven-year old daughter whom the movie eventually revolves around. The main plot involves an accidental qualification into the finals of the California Little Miss Sunshine pageant, which is a beauty pageant for very young children. At the behest of their youngest member, the entire clan hops into their van and takes a road trip that will vaguely remind viewers of the original National Lampoons Vacation. As is always the case with road movies, the destination is always beside the point and the true journey becomes one of internal examination. Of course, what matters is not what the movie is about but how it is about it, and Little Miss Sunshine is a minor triumph as a character study and an acting treat. Everyone here is at the top of his or her game and the story does take a few genuinely unexpected turns.

Aside from the usual themes of family togetherness, enjoying life to the fullest, and appreciating what you have, the film comes into a very specific theme. Each of the most damaged characters finds partial redemption through being admired by someone else. Everyone feeds off of Olive, because she is too young not to worship her parents and those around her. Grandpa in particular finds comfort in his granddaughter, as he knows that she is the only one who still respects him. And even suicidal and despondent Frank finds a friend of sorts in Dwayne, as Dwayne eventually appreciates this one person who views the world in much the same intellectual and cynical terms as he.

Despite it's façade as a bleak and dark artsy-comedy, Little Miss Sunshine is actually an uncommonly optimistic film. It understands, at it's core, that no matter how down and out we are in a given moment, we all look for people who admire us and believe that we are better than we are, if only for the validation and the hope that they might be correct.

Grade: A-

Review: The Break-Up (2006)

The Break-Up
2006
105 minutes
rated PG-13

by Scott Mendelson

From a critical point of view, one is divided over a movie like The Break-Up. On one hand, it does attempt to be different from the usual cookie-cutter romantic comedies. And, there are a few scenes here and there that do have an element of honest human truth to them. However, as a whole, the film collapses under key narrative and character errors and eventually becomes a combination of boring and cringe inducing. While The Break-Up may be a noble failure, it still fails.

The plot, to wit Gary and Brooke (Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston, respectively) meet at a Cubs game and take an immediate liking to each other. Over an opening-credits montage, we see two-years of their relationship as it progresses from courtship to living together in a rather nice Chicago condo. Alas, all is not well, and a nasty after-dinner fight ends with their decision to split up. Alas, they both love their condo and neither want to give it up, so they decide to play Solomon and split it in half, with Gary taking parts and Brooke getting parts. Alleged comedy ensues.

The key problem with this enterprise is that it stars two very unlikable characters. Gary is immediately presented as a selfish jerk, as his opening scene literally has been forcing his way into a date with Brooke even as she's on a date with someone else at the time. He eventually reveals himself as almost psychopathically lacking in basic empathy and a generally lousy human being. Why anyone, be it Brooke, or his family, or his friends would put up with him is never explained, as he isn't even presented as being particularly funny or charming.

As for Brooke, she is presented as a rather mal-adjusted needy individual who seemingly tries to win Gary back despite his complete lack of respect for her. Like many romantic comedies (like The Wedding Crashers or The Wedding Singer), the film makes the tactical error of having the female lead pining for or being engaged to someone who is such a disrespecting, abusive creep, that we lose respect for her and don't particularly care about her happy ending.

Ironically, while Vaughn and Aniston are miserable together, utterly lacking in chemistry, the cast around them shines and provides what entertainment there is to offer. Vaughn has fun sparring with Jon Favreau as his best friend, obviously playing on Swingers-nostalgia. In about fifteen minutes of screen time, Vincent D'Onofrio nearly steals the heart of the picture as Gary's put-upon oldest brother. It's his dealings with Gary's selfishness that gains our sympathy as Gary costs him more than just having to do dishes after a dinner function. By the end, we couldn't care less if Gary and Brooke get back together, but we sincerely hope for Gary to make amends to his own family. Between this, Thumbsucker, and the always-terrific Law And Order: Criminal Intent (aside from everything else he's done in the last 20 years), D'Onofrio is quickly becoming one of my favorite character actors (unlike the other braniac TV detectives, Goren is the only one who is shown learning all the stuff he will spout out later).

On Brooke's side, Joey Lauren Adams fills the best friend role but does nothing of interest with it. More amusing is Judy Davis as the insightful diva-ish boss at the art museum where Brooke works (an almost unrecognizable Justin Long hams it up as the flamboyant receptionist). Also amusing, albeit with limited screen time, is Jason Bateman as their mutual friend and their realtor. It's his big scene that sets the third act into gear.

Of course, all the great character actors in the world don't help all that much when the leads are unlikable and boring. Despite attempting to make an honest and unflinching look at a couple falling apart, the movie in the end is 102 minutes of unlikable, unsympathetic people playing hurtful head games with each other while we allegedly root for them to reconcile. Also hurting is the indecisive ending, which is a known compromise between what the filmmakers wanted and what the foolish test audiences demanded. Besides, in the end, a part of us does want them back together, if only so everyone else in the dating scene will be spared.

Grade: C-

Review: Inside Man (2006)

Inside Man
2006
124 minutes
Rated R (language and some violent images)

By Scott Mendelson

Inside Man is a perfect example of complete and total craftsmanship. It is not art, nor does it try to be, but it is an expertly oiled machine and under that qualification it is nearly a complete success. It also makes a compelling argument for the continuing pattern of high quality auteurs trying their hand at genre pictures and giving those pictures a unique professionalism. Spike Lee is one of the greats, who usually makes social issue films that may or may not involve race. By having him work in the classic bank robbery thriller genre, Lee makes a superior thriller while still peppering the film with intelligent drama and social insight that a lesser hack wouldn't have bothered with.

The plot, in brief: Dalton Russell (Clive Owen) walks into a major Manhattan bank with three cohorts and promptly holds up the joint. After hauling about fifty hostages to the back of the bank and forcing them to dress in identical outfits resembling their captors, Russell puts his plan into action. Meanwhile, Keith Frazier (Denzel Washington) and Bill Mitchell (Chiwetel Ejiofor) are called onto the scene as the official hostage negotiators. After setting up protocol with Captain Darious (Willem Dafoe), our heroes are immediately perplexed by the lack of standard procedure shown by the robbers. Meanwhile still, the owner of the bank (Christopher Plummer, looking his age for once) is concerned about the contents of a certain safety deposit box, so he enlists a fix-it person (Jodie Foster) to watch over the situation. As the hours go on, complications seemingly ensue, secrets are possibly revealed, and, to use a cliche, things may not be what they seem.

As one can see from the above paragraph, the cast is uniformly stellar, and they all relish the meaty character roles that they are given. Denzel Washington is far less intense and serious than usual and he and Ejiofor (so frighteningly human as the genocidal government agent in Serenity) enjoy a real bond and chemistry that suggests genuine friendship. Jodie Foster has a blast playing a woman of mysterious morals and possible villainy. Only Owen fails to stand out, but only because his ice-cold and logic-based villainy is something we all know he can do in his sleep. Even the various cops and hostages are given sharp and amusing personalities.

Dabbling in his first big-studio thriller, Spike Lee relishes the chance to play with his usual themes in a subtler manner. Issues of class, race, and privilege are tossed about, almost in an off-the-cuff manner. The worthwhile question of whether one can in fact be redeemed, despite a past wrong, eventually becomes a core theme. Lee also isn't afraid to play with some of his classic cliches, and the classic Lee sorrowful saxaphone solo that enters the soundtrack about an hour into the movie will put a smile on fans of the director. Lee even finds a place for his classic man floats through the street shot (think the end of Malcolm X, where Malcolm rides in his motorcade seemingly well-aware of his impending doom), even if it is a bit shoehorned in.

The film feels distinctly New York-ish, as much humor is made of the countless ethnic groups and races that all live together in relative harmony. For such a gripping, serious-minded film, the writing and dialogue is often very, very funny. The humor is all rooted in character and works nearly every time. Ironically, one of the reasons that the film is so tense is due to the lack of brutal and sensationalistic violence. There is violence, but it is infrequent enough to be shocking when it occurs and the suspense is palpable, as one doesn't know if or when these robbers will snap again. Like The Score (2001), this adult thriller builds tension through old-fashioned suspense, rather than shocking us with unrealistic carnage and gore-filled action set pieces.

To be fair, the final fifteen minutes consists of about four false endings, none of which add anything to the picture except to drag it out well beyond its natural conclusion. Aside from that quibble, Inside Man is terrific, near-perfect example of what happens when you let an A-list director tackle B-movie genres with the same gusto. It's expertly paced, terrifically written, and wonderfully acted. By dialing back his ambitions, but not his passion or his qualities, Spike Lee has made his best film since Get On The Bus, way back in 1996. Inside Man is glorious grown-up entertainment and the best film of 2006 thus far.

Grade: A-

Review: Night Watch (2006)

Night Watch
2004
120 minutes
rated R

by Scott Mendelsom

Night Watch, released in Russia in late 2004, is an intentional attempt to copy the sci-fi punk fantasy formula that has found a solid niche in the United States in the last several years. Of course, this genre hasn't exactly produced the highest level of quality to begin with. For every Dark City or Matrix, there's an Underworld or Ultra-Violet, or Aeon Flux, or Matrix Revolutions, or Blade Trinity. Why a foreign nation would want to emulate this not often worthwhile genre of American film making is a good and valid question. For whatever reason, Russian audiences have flocked to this would-be epic and its just-released sequel (Day Watch) and a trilogy caper is imminent. The original broke Russian box-office records, grossing over $16 million and the sequel has so far grossed $33 million (that's 432 million rubles and 891 million rubles respectively).

This only proves that the current state of Russia is far more dire than we know. They have the crippling breadlines, the insane Russia/Chechnya territorial civil war (say what you will about George W., but at least he doesn't stage or instigate Al Qaeda attacks to give an excuse to arrest or trample political opponents and business rivals), and the government that is slowly slipping back into dictatorship (which tends to happen when you elect a guy with a mysterious past who probably worked for Blofeld and tried to kill James Bond back in the 1970s). So desperate is their situation that they have flocked to Night Watch, a film that is so awesomely bad that it may in fact be the worst thing to happen to Russia since the North Ossetia school massacre in September 2004.

The plot, to wit: Thousands of years ago... superstition and the sword ruled. It was a time of darkness, it was a world of fear. It was the age of... Gargoyles? No, that would have meant being entertained. Instead this age of darkness/fear/swords involves two warring cultures with special powers, creatively named the Light and the Dark. Way back when, they stopped their fighting ways and made an uneasy truce. From then on in, the Light would watch the Dark at night, while the Dark would watch the Light during the day. Thus the truce has been kept, right under the noses of regular folk. Until something occurs to potentially break the truce. This thing doesn't actually occur until the last five minutes of the movie, as this is all set-up for the next two pictures. And what a ridiculous, boring, and sophomoric set-up it is.

The Light and the Dark are together called The Others (insert your own joke concerning hatches, lottery numbers, or polar bears). In the present day, they have special powers; powers that aren't terribly well defined but they do involve jumping, kicking, making CGI light shows, and wearing sun glasses at night (the latter power apparently allows them to see the light that`s right before their eyes). The Dark are also vampires, and it's implied that the Light likes blood too, but who cares?

The entire film is a mishmash of the worst of sci-fi. The characters are boring and underdeveloped. The action is fractured, heavily edited, and impossible to follow or care about. Even the audio is pointlessly loud. Worst of all is the story itself. Aside from the opening narrated prologue and several key events throughout the story, the picture is, from moment to moment, completely incomprehensible. The film is obsessed with being cool, hip, edgy, and geeky. Everyone is dressed in leather and everyone wears sunglasses. The music is loud and not the least bit lyrical. There is no poetry, only noise and random movement.

In conclusion, Night Watch is downright unwatchable. It's the worst film so far this year and will probably keep that title for the near future. If this is the path of this particular trilogy, then perhaps the concluding saga should be entitled 'Don't Watch'.

Grade: F