2008: Year in Review

Here are ten basic rules for modern slasher films which, if you are aware of them, will save you the need to watch idiotic formula junk like this one:

Here is a goofy, virtually one-joke period comedy that makes you smile and chuckle and laugh out loud on more than one occasion, but little else. Maybe that's enough. Will Farrell stars as Jackie Moon, the Michigan-based egoist, a one hit wonder of recent disco music in 1976 who has become the owner-coach-player of the ABA's Flint Tropics. His team is in trouble, and with the ABA making preparations to merge (well, four teams will) with the NBA, Jackie finds his team has one last chance to prove themselves worthy of such a feat. His team includes Clarence (Andre Benjamin of OutKast), the talented black guy on the team; Twiggy Munson (Josh Braaten), the tall, heavy white guy on the team; and thanks to an unconventional trade, former NBA player Monix (Woody Harrelson) comes back to whip the team into shape. The team also gets support from color commentators DicK Pepperfield (Andrew Daly) and former player turned drunk Lou Redwoo d(Will Arnett). Unfortunately, Monix has a checkered history with local girl Lynn (Maura Tierney of "ER"), whose husband (Rob Corddry) seems to have an unhealthy infatuation with her one-time paramour; his reaction to walking in on them having sex is equal parts funny and disturbing. The film, directed by Kent Alterman and written by Scot Armstrong, is essentially an "Anchorman"-esque romp designed as a balls-to-the-wall vehicle for Ferrell's brand of goofy, knowing humor; as such, it isn't quite as laugh out loud funny after a while. The film looks like it takes place in the 70s, and the humor is there, but it's essentially a one-joke premise stretched out to an hour and a half. Still, it's pretty amusing for what it is.



NOTE: The unrated version is 98 minutes on DVD.

Michael Patrick King's translation of the successful, long-running HBO series to feature film is, unfortunately, like 5 fairly boring, uninsightful, unfunny episodes - the series' worst, if you will - strung together as a feature. Granted, the 5 episodes must be said to interconnect in a clearly and thoroughly-plotted way; a mini-arc, you could say. Still, this 145 minute film manages to be about as unamusing, dramatically inert and stale as this series could've ever been. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a particularly big fan of the series but it had flashes of humor and wasn't ever as depressing as this. The plot: Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) was the ultimate single girl in the city, writing column after column (it's not clear for whom) about love and sex and all the foibles of herself and her friends in that department. Then she met Mr. Big (Chris Noth), some kind of well-connected and well-to-do bachelor who stole her heart (or, perhaps, bought it with his pocket book). Now, the two are going to get married and move in together. It's the beginning of the end. Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia NIxon), a fiery redhead, has successfully married and had a son with bartender Steve (David Eisenberg). Then he makes a revelation of a long-held secret and it tears them apart. Charlotte York (Kristin Davis) is the prudish brunette, married to Harry (Evan Handler) and raising their adopted Chinese daughter Lily (Alexandra and Parker Fong). They appear to be legitimately happy, making them unique currently among this bunch. Then there's Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall), the aging blonde who always slept with whatever guy she wanted whenever she wanted (and some girls, if I recall the series correctly), has moved out to Hollywood to be the agent to rising young star Jerry 'Smith' Jerrod (Jason Lewis), with whom she has a monogomous relationship. This terminal bachelorette has been so tamed by love that she is trying desperately to avoid cheating with the guy next door, who has a different sexual partner (or partners) every night. The film covers several seasons, from summer through Halloween, Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day and into the following spring; remarkably, Thanksgiving seems bypassed. Carrie's desperate need for an assistant leads to the addition to the cast of Jennifer Hudson ("Dreamgirls") as Louise, a clever but not exactly rich black girl from St. Louis who came to New York "to fall in love." Yeah. There are also bit parts for characters on the periphery of the main characters, such as Enid Frick (Candice Bergin), and ubergays Stanford Blatch (Willie Garson) and Anthony Marentino (Mario Cantone), and even a relationship therapist played by Joanna Gleason. Unfortunately, did I mention this film goes on for almost 2-1/2 hours?!? And feels every bit of it. The film is based on the series created by Darren Starr and written and directed by show-runner Michael Patrick King, inspired by the characters from the popular book created by Candace Bushnell (hey, she has the same initials as Carrie Bradshaw and has a similar name; I wonder if she's the inspiration for the Sarah Jessica Parker character). Just kidding. The film is bawdy, saucy, and spiceless, witless and bubble-brained, and ultimately kind of needless. This is a film that will appeal exclusively to females, gay men and fans of the original series. All others steer clear.



NOTE: The extended version runs 153 minutes on DVD.

Martin Scorsese's "Shine a Light" accomplishes two remarkable things: it reaffirms (yet again) my love of Scorsese as the GREATEST AMERICAN DIRECTOR ALIVE(!) and...makes me love the Rolling Stones(!!!).

I was not a particular fan of the Stones going into Scorsese's new documentary/concert film, shot over two days as a benefit for the Clinton Foundation at the Beacon Theater in October of 2006 (around the time his Oscar winning "The Departed" was released), but I am now.

From the opening explosion that is "Jumpin' Jack Flash," through many slower or lesser known works, culminating with such hits as "Sympathy for the Devil" and "Satisfaction," Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Charlie Watts and Ron Wood are at the top of their game!

Seeing the film in IMAX at a nearby theater, I was blown away (literally) by the sound levels and the amazing cinematography by Robert Richardson (he oversees 9 Oscar winning and/or nominated cinematographers operating the cameras including Ellen Kuras, Robert Elswit, Stuart Drysburgh, etc.). This film makes you feel like you're not only at this concert two years hence, but that you're ON STAGE WITH THE ROLLING FRICKIN' STONES!

This film is not only an ecstatic reconfirmation of the vitality (and energy) of the Stones, but it's just a rocking good time!

Here is (yet another) Asian horror film remade for the American audiences, cast with English-speaking would-be stars, and dumbed down from an already dumb premise until any scintilla of wit is drained out of it. Benjamin (Joshua Jackson of TV's "Dawson's Creek") and Jane (Rachael Taylor) just got married. For the honeymoon, they decide to drive to a nice cabin in the woods, but on the way they appear to hit a pale Asian girl and run her over. They pass out, wake up, and the girl is gone without a trace. Jane is bothered by this, but Benjamin just wants to move on. After the honeymoon, the couple moves to Tokyo for Benjamin's new job as a photographer. Jane is threatened at first by Benjamin's relationships with the pretty young Asian girls he works with, but that's only the beginning. Soon, it appears that Benjamin's camera is taking pictures haunted by spirits - specifically, the girl they apparently hit with their car. Jane and Benjamin's terror increase through mysterious deaths, paranoia, etc. until the truth behind the girl's motives is finally revealed. The film, directed by Masayuki Ochiai, is yet another in a long series of vaguely supernatural horror from Asia - this is based on the 2004 film of the same name from Thailand. As long as there is a market for Asian horror in America, I fear it will continue to be exploited. This isn't exactly "bad" - it's eerie, decently made, and mildly interesting to a point - but if you aren't exactly sickened that it was done, you do wonder why it was done at all.

Danny Boyle's winsome, gripping, ultimately inspirational fable is a modern day fairy tale of the highest order, celebrating the intelligence required to learn from your past. As the film opens, Jamal Malik (Dev Patel), a "chaiwaller" (tea-fetcher) for a telemarketing company, is being tortured and interrogated because he, by accident (or was it written?), became a contestant on the Hindi version of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" and the police are convinced he's been cheating. The film quickly intercuts the present with flashbacks illustrating how he got question after question right simply by remembering the experiences that are etched into his brain, some tragic, some comic, some major, some minor. We see his childhood in Mumbai, how he was orphaned during a Muslim massacre that killed his mother, and how he and his brother Salim, with their sweet friend Latika in tow, ultimately escaped the slums in order to look for a better life. In something bearing a striking resemblence to "Oliver Twist" (the third time I've seen a film based on or inspired by that book in just a couple of months, after "August Rush" and Polanski's 2005 adaptation!), the trio is taken in by a Fagin-esque slug, exploited as beggars who literally sing for their supper, and they must soon escape this fate by any means necessary. Meanwhile, in the recent present, he must contend with a disbelieving game show host, and soon has the audience rooting for him all the way. As the chronology of the flashbacks plays catch-up, Jamal and Salim (as an adult played by Madhur Mittal) grow further and further apart as Salim is drawn into the world of gangsters, from which there may be no return. The heart of the film is in the relationship between Jamal and Latika (played as an adult by the gorgeous Freida Pinto), and his belief in their destiny to be together. Danny Boyle is not precisely known for inspirational movies, having directed such works as the Scottish noir "Shallow Grave" (1994), the druggie dramedy "Trainspotting" (1996), the zombie horror film "28 Days Later..." (2003) and, most recently, the slasher flick in space "Sunshine" (2007). However, after making the wonderful, quirky family film "Millions" (2005), Boyle has made his most crowd-pleasing film yet. Working from a screenplay by Simon Beaufoy, the film is based on the novel "Q & A" by Vikas Swarup. Boyle is above all a ferocious visual stylist, and using a grainy, often handheld and hyperkinetic digital camera, coupled with jagged editing and a pounding soundtrack, he has made a film that grips you from the first shot and never lets go, recalling such films as Scorsese's "Mean Streets" (1973) and Fernando Mereilles' "City of God" (2003). In the end, this is a powerful, surprisingly absorbing, uplifting story that makes you believe in the power to overcome your past, and to upset the low expectations of others. One of 2008's best films!



NOTE: Stay for the ending credits, which appear over a Bollywood-esque dance number in a train station; you'll be tapping your feet to the music and bobbing your head as well! Also, I would be remiss if I failed to mention Loveleen Tandan, who is the credited co-director in India. The film was nominated for 10 Oscars including Best Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay, Original Song (x2!), Score, Cinematography and Editing.

Noam Murro's dark-ish comedy is an acidically-witty, if somewhat watered-down, little independent film about family, loss, love and - above all - being smart. Or at least a smart ass. Lawrence Weatherhold (Dennis Quaid) is a literary professor at Carnegie-Mellon University in Pittsburgh. His wife is dead, he can't remember his students' names because he doesn't get to really know them, and he is a bit befuddled in general. Example/plot point: After his car is towed, Professor Weatherhold climbs the chain-link fence at the impound lot to retrieve his briefcase, and falls to the ground, suffering a mild concussion - after he has gotten his briefcase. He is taken to a hospital and cared for by Dr. Janet Hartigan (Sarah Jessica Parker), a sexy if aging former student who Weatherhold has little to no memory of, and who harbours something of a grudge over a paper she "worked hard on." Weatherhold has two children - one is James (Ashton Holmes, who you might recognize from Cronenberg's "A History of Violence"), a poetry-crafting young guy who loafs about on campus and tries to avoid seeing his father, and devoted daughter Vanessa (Ellen Page, continuing a streak of clever young people after "Juno"), a too-witty-by-half Young Republican who has just a scintilla more wit than her father ever could dream of possessing. Since the Professor can't drive, and insurance won't cover a chauffeur, so enters Chuck (Thomas Hayden Church of "Sideways"), a sloppy, scruffy adopted brother who can't be relied upon (except to get drunk and smoke pot) and who Weatherhold must look to for help when he needs it. This tiny little would-be extended family is the creation of writer Mark Poirier, who peppers his screenplay with sharp one-liners, amusing observations and clever insights. Vanessa, for example, is not precisely the caricature she could easily have turned out to be - none of these people are. The film is the directorial debut of Noam Murro, who was once, according to IMDB, slated to make his feature debut (alarmingly) with the wretched "The Ring Two" (2005). Wise choice, then. The film has a pseudo-indie-vibe going on, though one suspects it had the budget and marketing campaign to be something more (or less) than an independent film. Still, it's smart and often very funny, and well-acted enough to pass muster.

Mark Waters' adaptation of the acclaimed young adult books by Tony DiTerlizzi and Holly Black is a surprisingly absorbing, enjoyable, and perfectly-tailored family entertainment for this decade. The plot: the Grace family moves from New York City to their great-aunt's (Joan Plowright) creepy old estate in the middle of nowhere, and must make a fresh start. The mother (Mary-Louise Parker) is trying to move on from her no account husband (Andrew McCarthy), who appears to be more interested in the new girl he's just moved in with than in his own family. The former Mrs. Grace must then take care of her three young teens all by herself. Freddie Highmore gives a terrific performance in a dual role as twin brothers Jared and Simon. Jared is the kind of kid who is lashing out, angry all the time, and who consequentially gets blamed for anything that goes wrong. His brother, Simon, is a bookworm, knows a little something about seemingly everything, and is a self-described "pacifist." How nice then that their fencing champion older sister Mallory (the lovely Sarah Bolger) is there to pick up the slack. The film doesn't take too long before strange things begin occurring - some objects appear to move on their own, while others disappear without a trace, only to reappear in a secret dumbwaiter hidden behind the wall (Simon's the sort of kid who knows what such a device is called). The trio of young siblings soon discovers a book written by their grandfather (the reliable David Strathairn), who disappeared shortly after its completion some 80 years ago. Turns out, the book is a passage-way of sorts to seeing a hidden world of fairies, goblins and ogres, and with the help of a kind little creature named Thimbletack (the voice of Martin Short), and a somewhat undependable sloth named Hogsqueal (the voice of Seth Rogen), the kids must keep the book out of the hands of the evil Mulgarath (Nick Nolte). Some moments will probably scare the bejesus out of kids who are younger than 8 or 9 years old, but that's up to them to decide; indeed, when Mulgarath takes his true shape, he looks something like a cross between King Kong and what you might expect an ogre played by Nick Nolte to look like. It's by sheer serendipity that I should watch this right after re-watching Spike Jonze's "Adaptation." (2002) again. Like Nicolas Cage in that film, if not precisely on the same level, Highmore here creates two distinct individual characters without a single trick of hair or makeup, or even much in the way of costuming - he's terrific. I also greatly enjoyed Sarah Bolger ("In America") as the tough, smart sister who gets caught up in her brothers' pursuits. The adults are all fine, with Joan Plowright managing to never talk down to the material, and Mary-Louise Parker even earning points in the rather thankless role of the disbelieving mother who means well but is clueless. It's worth noting that one of the co-screenwriters of the film is the great John Sayles, an independent filmmaker ("Lone Star," "City of Hope") with an eye for family-friendly magical realism ("The Secret of Roan Inish"). Without having read the books or knowing what part he played in the adaptation of them, I think I can safely attribute a good chunk of this film's intelligence and heart to him. As well, the committed A-list cast, the slick, fantastical direction by Mark Waters ("The House of Yes," "Freaky Friday"), some solid cinematography by Caleb Deschanel, and effective music by James Horner, combine to lift what could've been a low-rent modern-day "Lord of the Rings" knockoff out of the gutter and into the upper echelons of family entertainment.

Frank Miller's comic strip adaptation is a stylish mess, a grimly unwatchable parody, a colossal bore.

Errol Morris' powerful, angering documentary is not an expose of the criminal acts committed at Abu Ghraib military prison, as the cat's already out of the bag, but rather an absorbing examination of the meaning behind the infamous photographs which leaked out of the facility, causing an uproar over the apparent torture of prisoners. Several young American soldiers working in various capacities at the prison famously posed for photographs, with Lynndie England being the poster-girl, the face of humiliation and torture at Abu Ghraib, if you will. Interviews with England suggest that she, 20 at the time, was merely a cog in the machine orchestrated by her superior officer, over 15 years older than her, her boyfriend at the time, Charles Graner. Apparently, he was telling her how to pose and what to do and she was going along with it; indeed, it's said that all it takes for evil to succeed is for "good people" to just "go along." We get a mosaic of accounts from many of the soldiers, including a female officer named Sabrina Harman, whose letters home to her wife provide occasional narration and a would-be conscience juxtaposed with the horror and grotesquerie; indeed, she intended to turn the pictures she took over to the press or authorities but it was too little too late and she was ultimately punished alongside the rest of her comrades. Nobody above staff sergeant was ever imprisoned or found guilty of anything, and the film makes clear that although never shown in the photos, others were giving orders at all times - the soldiers did what they were told and paid the price. Errol Morris is maybe the best documentarian we have today. Having started with investigations of pet cemetary culture ("Gates of Heaven") and small town life ("Vernon, Florida"), he has since moved on to greater hights. Once having worked as a private investigator, his documentaries of late have had great success at achieving unique results, using the Interrotron - a device allowing Morris to be seen by and see his subjects while they look into the camera - to probe and search the frame for the truth. This device has worked to help get an innocent Death Row inmate out of prison ("The Thin Blue Line"); to probe into the personality of a Holocaust-denying creator of modern execution methods ("Mr. Death: The Rise & Fall of Fred A. Leuchter, Jr."); to investigate the 11 life lessons learned by former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara ("The Fog of War"); and now to gain a scintilla of understanding of what was going through the minds of the young men and women who became scapegoats for the unspeakable acts committed at Abu Ghraib. What Morris discovers is alternatingly disturbing, fascinating and heartbreaking. One of the year's best films.

Kimberly Peirce's "Stop-Loss" is a bit of a disappointment coming 9 years after the director's brilliant debut feature, "Boys Don't Cry." That was a relevant, effective and poignant story of tolerance (or lack thereof) in America's heartland. This new film is a tale of military abuse of its soldiers and the problems that coming home from Iraq can cause. Well-acted, well-made, but a bit melodramatic and strains too hard.

Writer-director Bryan Bertino began as a key grip before making his directorial debut with this creepy, but ultimately none-too-effective horror chiller, "inspired by true events" (which could've been the same ones that inspired anything from "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" to the Manson Family murders). In 2005, a young couple (played by Scott Speedman, formerly of TV's "Felicity," and Liv Tyler, formerly of Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler's loins) attended a friend's wedding and then headed to a family vacation home in the middle of a quiet, isolated area. The guy proposed and the girl claimed she was "not ready" to accept, and this intriguing beginning would've made for a series of awkward attempts at conversation and a long dark night of the soul, but Bertino quickly shifts into terror mode with everything from a creepy girl appearing at the door, to a series of loud knocks, and finally three masked assailants taunting and scaring the bejesus out of the young couple. This is sort of like the lead-up to Michael Haneke's "Funny Games" (1997, remade in 2008) if the lead-up was 90 minutes long. This is basically a great 3 minute trailer or 30 second TV spot stuck inside of a pretty mediocre 90 minute film. The greatest assets of Bertino's film are its cinematography and a very effective sound design (notice one or two songs that appear to be commenting on the action, playing on an old record player). A couple of decent chills recall the grand master of the genre, John Carpenter's "Halloween" (1978), but unfortunately, by the end, it's much ado about nothin'.

David Ayer's violent, over-the-top melodrama swings for the fences, attempting (apparently) to be the corrupt cop film to end all corrupt cop films - and that's the best thing that can be said for it. Keanu Reeves stars as Detective Tom Ludlow, a drunken, racist, widower who is also a vigilante cop working on an elite team run by Captain Jack Wander (Forest Whitaker), who makes no apologies about sending out Ludlow to clean up the streets in off-the-books fashion. Ludlow was once partners with Terence Washington (Terry Crews), who (apparently) was ready to "dime out" Ludlow as a corrupt cop; that would be somewhat akin to telling the crow it has wings. Ludlow's current partners in crime, if you will, are Sgt. Mike Clady (Jay Mohr) and Detectives Dante Demille (John Corbett of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and TV's "Sex and the City") and Cosmo Santos (Amaury Nolasco of TV's "Prison Break"), none of whom ever quite seem to match up to Ludlow's own level of creephood. One day, Ludlow is driving along off-duty when he sees two gang-bangers about to rob a convenience store. He beats them to the place, planning to lie in wait, but who is there but his former partner, convinced Ludlow is there to assassinate him (he may not be far off from the truth). Ludlow and Washington try to take out the gang-bangers but Washington is hit, partially by a stray bullet from Ludlow's gun, and dies holding Ludlow's hand. Captain Wander wants to preserve Ludlow's career, and advises him to destroy the disc from the video camera, effectively erasing Ludlow's participation in the incident. Soon, fresh-faced Detective Paul Diskant (Chris Evans of "Cellular") is on the case, working for Internal Affairs, which is run by Captain James Biggs (Hugh Laurie, doing his best "House" impersonation), who can't seem to decide if he wants to take Ludlow down or pull him under his wing. That's quite enough of the plot, and yet there's more, including a snitch called Scribble (Cedric The Entertainer!) and a couple of thugs who may or may not be what they appear to be (one of whom is played by rapper Common). It's all quite lurid and over-the-top, which is normally a compliment for me, but something's rotten in Denmark. The film was directed by David Ayer, previously known as the writer of such corrupt cop sagas as "Training Day" (2001) and "Dark Blue" (2002) - so he's no stranger to the subject. This is his sophomore directorial effort after the small-scale, low-budget disaster which was "Harsh Times" (2005). Here, Ayer's plot (and it's a doosy) has been provided by novelist James Ellroy's original script (which was then, we sense, heavily re-written by Kurt Wimmer and Jamie Moss). The film has twist after twist before arriving at a conclusion that is all but inevitable - and rather predictable. The material borrows from those previous films I mentioned as well as superior cop sagas, including Ellroy's own "L.A. Confidential" (filmed by Curtis Hanson in 1997). The results then are not as bad as they could be, but not quite good enough either. Think of this film as the corrupt cop version of reheated pizza - it's never quite as tasty as it was the first time around.

Christine Jeffs' comedy is a delightfully dark surprise fighting through an overwhelmingly sunny (and misleading) ad campaign. Rose (Amy Adams) and Norah Lorkowski (Emily Blunt) are two sides of the same coin. Rose is a maid, a single mom living in Albuquerque, New Mexico, who is raising her 7-year-old son Oscar (Jason Spevack) with occasional cheap babysitting assistance from her flaky sister and carrying on an affair with Oscar's biological father, married detective Mac (Steve Zahn), who is always offering to help Rose in some way or another and is trapped in a passionless (if not sexless) marriage to another high school sweetheart. Norah can't hold a steady job (she is fired from being a waitress during the opening credit sequence), tells Oscar stories which (though he can't get enough) give him nightmares, and occasionally parties with local boyfriends. Rose and Norah's father Joe (Alan Arkin, playing right in his wheelhouse) is a lovable old codger who is a great grandfather to Oscar, makes promises he tries hard to keep in one way or another, and uses (potential) get-rich-quick schemes to accomplish his goals. A plot (of sorts) kicks in when Rose discovers Oscar needs to be put in a special school to cater to his unique personality traits (he is a bit attention-deficit, a bit high-spirited, a bit hyperactive). Where will the money come from? It's about this time that Mac offers to use his connections to throw her some business cleaning up crime scenes. Thus Rose gets the idea: Sunshine Cleaning, a small, humble service to dispose of the messes left behind at bloody murder sites, suicides, etc. Pull Norah into the proceedings and they're off and away. The film also involves Rose's burgeoning friendship with cleaning supply clerk and model airplane-maker Winston (Clifton Collins Jr.), a remarkably patient gentleman with one arm; Rose's desperate desire to attend a conflictingly-scheduled baby shower which will provide the opportunity to (potentially) throw her newfound success in the faces of those who treated her poorly in high school (who doesn't dream of such a chance?); then there's Joe's continual failures at making his investment opportunities fly, and Norah's friendship with nurse Lynn (Mary Lynn Rajskub), the cute, estranged daughter of a suicide Norah cleaned up after. All of these plot strands sort of co-exist without touching or intertwining too much during the film's short running time. The film has been directed by Christine Jeffs, a New Zealander who previously made "Rain" (2001; not the one with Melora Walters), and the Plath biopic "Sylvia" (2003) with Gwyneth Paltrow. This is, by far, her sunniest film to date, despite the extraordinarily macabre material. The screenplay is a first for past editor-director Megan Holley and it's a gem. The characters are unique and live lives which are ordinary yet absorbing. The material is funny without ever stretching too far to be so. The plot finds a way to resolve itself without feeling like the arbitrary resolution of a plot. Things change, one door closes and another opens, and life goes on.

Charlie Kaufman's Synecdoche, New York is an astonishing, dizzying, beautiful, melancholy, sardonically amusing, lovely, apocalyptic, powerful, low-key, brilliant, bewildering and inspiring work of staggering genius (Have I used every single superfluous adjective known to man yet? Good). His latest surrealist trip down the rabbit hole of the creative mind is about... well, there's positively no satisfying way to complete that sentence. A plot description is futile, for there is no plot; such is life.
Let it be said then that on the face of it, the film concerns itself primarily with the precarious existence of one Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a struggling theater director (I discover from Time's Richard Corliss that his name is an anagram for Acted Candor; the levels never cease!). Caden has a palpably contempt-ridden marriage to Adele (Catherine Keener), a painter of miniature smeared portraits. There is a 4 year-old daughter named Olive and sessions of marriage counseling with a cheerfully unhelpful therapist named Madeleine (Hope Davis). Caden reads the obituaries every morning; will he find himself? There is an attempt to mount a complex new production of Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman at the community theater, and an "unusual" choice with the casting. There are flirtations with that "hot," sexy redheaded box office girl Hazel (Samantha Morton). There is the degradation of Caden's body and death may be imminent; people die everyday, and often they are friends and loved ones.
Caden receives a Genius Grant. Caden wants to make something "true and personal" before shuffling off this mortal coil; after all, what good is a Genius Grant if one can't live up to the distinction? Caden will cast hundreds of people to play everyone he has ever met, brushed up against, or even remotely interacted with, and then some, in a major theater piece about his entire life; "The world is but a stage and we mere players upon it." Why does he have to make it so complicated? "That's what you do," says the wife. Vast sets are built, apartments constructed; compartments to organize the world around us. Had Miranda July not already employed the title three years ago, this ought to have been called Me and You and Everyone We Know.
There are comings and goings of relationships and feelings; life is full of regrets. Tempus fugit - "time flees." Your daughter is raised by Maria (Jennifer Jason Leigh) now, and she's in Germany, and her diary reads like something from the inner workings of a stranger, and who told her you were homosexual? Tattoos of flowers get infected and wilt. The body withers and sickens; it takes its cue from the mind. There is a pretty blond actress called Claire (Michelle Williams); is she the one? Everyone needs a doppelganger. Pretty, pudding faced Tammy (Emily Watson) is Hazel. Tall, off-putting Sammy (Tom Noonan) follows Caden for 20 years; "research." He will serve. Dianne Wiest is Millicent, or is it Ellen? Is she a woman? Is she Caden? Kaufman by way of David Lynch. Life is a rehearsal for itself. Everything dies. Illumination comes suddenly.
Charlie Kaufman, who wrote and makes his directorial debut here, has literally made a career of plumbing the depths of human life, using the cerebral and the surreal as his avenue. He has employed some brilliant directors to adapt his ideas (these aren't screenplays in the "traditional" sense, but rather insightful explorations of the mind) to the screen: Spike Jonze (Being John Malkovich and Adaptation.), Michel Gondry (Human Nature and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) and George Clooney (Confessions of a Dangerous Mind). Now, with perhaps his most "gimmicky" premise, Kaufman has also certainly woven his most emotionally moving tale to date. Here, Kaufman is amazingly assured, working up in the higher echelons of Bergman; his work is existential, "meta", cerebral, funny and profound (the Big Questions are asked, and when Caden says his play is "about everything," is it Kaufman talking about this film?).
This could all be self-indulgent on a grand scale, but works splendidly. The film is fiercely original and unique, yet recalls everything from Bergman's Persona and its Lynchian descendants Mulholland Dr. and Inland Empire, to Fellini's 8 1/2 and Woody Allen's Deconstructing Harry.
Hoffman is ideal as the neurotic and overwhelmed theater producer; the one constant in an ever-shifting world. The cast is full of amazing actresses, each playing their role in Caden's life - but which is which and who only knows? Tom Noonan is profoundly creepy and effective as the imposing force that claims he can play Caden like no other.
Fred Elmes' camera (Blue Velvet) is this time largely unobtrusive, but observant; his lighting is sometimes stylized and sometimes relatively subtle. Jon Brion's score ("Magnolia") is by turns quirky, odd, beautiful, melancholy. The song "Little Person" is performed by Deanna Storey and written by Kaufman and Brion; remember it come Oscar-time. The film is sad, but not "depressing;" as Ebert says: "No good film is depressing, all bad films are." The film is heart-warming, but not "pleasant;" reconsider your definition of "entertainment." The film is funny, but not "hilarious;" odd, but not so "strange." The film is inspired and inspiring. Two college kids behind me audibly ask, "What the f--k?" every 15 or so minutes starting around the halfway mark, right up to the end credits; here is a film that is thought-provoking, and requiring thought, but it should be a privilege and not a chore. The film gives hints, and evades easy answers. The film is absurdist, and realistic. The film is not just about Caden, or theater, or even about me and you and everyone we know. This is a film about life; this film is life itself. At the end, I felt not only enlightened and moved, but also quite powerfully like I was somehow closer to the human race. It's a masterpiece; I will see it many times. It is obviously one of 2008's very best films; possibly "the best." Head hurts. Sleep now...
Note: Early in the film, the audience gave a chuckle/gasp at an ironic gag - the mistaken belief that someone famous had died...who just did. The film was nominated for the Independent Spirit Award for Best Screenplay. It won 2 Spirit Awards, including Best First Feature and the Robert Altman Award for Best Ensemble Cast.

Brad Anderson's slow-building, tightly-wound, nail-bitingly tense Hitchcockian thriller is as mountingly unnerving a film as I can recall; a genuinely terrifying sojurn into a modern, international Twilight Zone. Jesse (Emily Mortimer) and Roy (Woody Harrelson) are an American couple that has just finished a church-sponsored mission to help poor kids in China. Jesse is a photographer with a wild past and Roy is a nerdy train buff and a "safe" significant other. All is not perfect: he wants to take a chance on getting pregnant and she wants to avoid "putting down a root." They have boarded a trans-Siberian train from Beijing bound for Moscow. Little do they know that their lives are about to change. Innocently enough, Jesse and Roy meet their bunk-mates, Abby (Kate Mara) and Carlos (Eduardo Noriega), she a 20-year-old Seattle-based drifter and he a mysterious, older Spaniard, tall, dark and handsome - but vaguely dangerous. At a rest stop in a small Russian village, Roy goes missing from the train and Jesse is frantic, searching all over, unable to find him. We can feel Jesse's palpable sense of fear and growing suspicion before Roy turns up (apparently, he simply missed the train and is in a hotel somewhere). Meanwhile, as Jesse and Abby grow closer, finding much in common, Jesse's ill feelings about Carlos' true nature intensify and she begins to wonder if he is who he appears to be; a conversation about fake passports and some matryoshka dolls might be a clue. Disembarking from the train to do some sight-seeing near an old abandoned church, Jesse and Carlos come face-to-face with some unspoken connection between them, and more you'll have to learn for yourself. At roughly this point, Roy rejoins the train with his new bunk-mate (from the hotel), Grinko (Ben Kingsley), a former KGB officer turned narcotics investigator who thinks Jesse may be hiding something behind that pretty face, twisted by nerves, fear and paranoia. He may be right. Brad Anderson is a thoroughly independent filmmaker who began in rough romantic comedy ("Next Stop, Wonderland" and the sci-fi-tinged "Happy Accidents") before seguing into thriller mode ("The Machinist," "Session 9") and this is perhaps his most controlled and best film to date. In a scenario borrowing much from Hitchcock's "The Lady Vanishes" (1938), though not its sense of humor, Anderson manages to find a tense, claustrophobic and mountingly disturbing way of portraying the modern tourist experience; if Woody Allen's "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" (2008) was a tourist's wet dream, this must be some kind of vivid nightmare. Mortimer is utterly sympathetic as a woman who makes a mistake out of fear and desperation, attempts haphazardly to cover her tracks, and then must cover the attempts at covering her tracks. The ways in which she uses her eyes, mouth and the very sweat on her face to convey fear are a lesson in realistically acting "terror." Harrelson is effective in the token role of the dumb husband who loves his wife but seems to be clueless throughout. And Ben Kingsley is terrific as a cop who may have some secrets, may be on the up and up, and is certainly intimidating even to those who've done nothing wrong. This is, simply put, one hell of a thriller.

Ben Stiller's curious, odd, and often very funny satire of Hollywood egos, big budget action films, and the Vietnam War is somehow slightly less than the sum of its parts. That being said, the parts add up to enough to highly recommend it. The film stars three big Hollywood stars, playing three big Hollywood stars, playing three Vietnam War movie stereotypes: Stiller is Tugg Speedman, the Stallone-esque aging action star of the "Scorcher" series of films (his sixth film in the series is presented as a faux trailer at this film's start). He is the overly-gung-ho leader of the pack. Jack Black plays Jeff Portnoy, whose "Fatties: Fart 2" is the second faux trailer at the beginning. Basically a cross between Chris Farley and Eddie Murphy, Black is the heroin-addicted scatalogical comedy star who has come to this Vietnam epic we know not how. And finally Aussie Kirk Lazarus (think Russell Crowe) is a 5-time Oscar-winning method actor (I wouldn't dream of giving away his - the best faux trailer since "Grindhouse") who (as played with tremendous courage by Robert Downey Jr.) has undertaken a skin pigmentation procedure to make himself into the leading black character in the film within the film. This is much to the chagrin of Booty Sweat energy drink and Bust A Nut protein bar shilling Alpa Chino (think about it) played by Brandon T. Jackson, who gets the supporting black role. Rounding out the cast is the typical youngblood nerdy type (well played by Jay Baruchel of the Judd Apatow camp) who is the only one to have gone to boot camp, read the book the film's script is based on, or read the script for that matter. This fivesome is contending with a psychotic redneck explosives manager (Danny McBride who only a week earlier played a ratfink druggie in David Gordon Green's "Pineapple Express"), a terribly inept former stage director turned filmmaker named Damien Cockburn (played all-too-briefly by Steve Coogan) and the author of the book/inspiration for the story Fourleaf (Nick Nolte, in full on raspy mode). When the egos begin to clash and get in the way of what could be the best Vietnam movie turned disaster turned classic since "Apocalypse Now", the director and his crew take the actors and some digital cameras into the "real deep shit"; and leave them to their own devices, resulting in a "Three Amigos"-esque scenario where a group of dumb Hollywood types think they're still acting even when real gunplay and explosives start happening. Add to this a couple of great cameos (credited) by a couple of big name Hollywood actors (the least recognizable of the two provides much of the humor), and you have a wild, insane, nonsensical and ultimately silly film that is sure to entertain. If I have one complaint, it's that Stiller's effects budget (while probably parodying Hollywood action epics) threatens (like the violence in "Pineapple Express") to kill the jokes, and makes the film overly loud (along with the overbearing soundtrack at times) in such a way as to make a DVD rental necessary just to get the dialogue you missed. Odd for a comedy. If "Pineapple Express" is funnier for sheer laugh velocity, this is still a very worthy effort.

Catherine Hardwicke's (I guess faithful) adaptation of the universally-astronomically popular novel by Stephenie Meyer is for a niche audience - that niche ain't me. For reasons passing understanding, the increasingly decent Kristen Stewart is Bella Swan, the sullen, pale, dark-haired, moody teen who moves from inclimate Arizona and living with her mom (Sarah Clarke) to proverbial small Pacific Northwest hamlet Forks, Washington with her Sheriff father (Billy Burke). She quickly makes friends in school, including a mysterious cadre of sullen, pale, mostly blonde, moody teen outcasts known as the Cullen clan, a group of "adopted" kids belonging to Dr. Carlisle Cullen (Peter Facinelli), who is as creepy and off-putting as he is mysterious and lacking in skin pigment - he looks like an albino. Before long, it becomes clear to Bella that something isn't quite right with the Cullens, led by handsome "young" Edward (Robert Pattinson from "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire"), who catches first her eye and then her heart. He saves her from a potential car accident with alarmingly lightning-like speed and agility, and even then won't tell her what's up. Then he tells her: he and his family are vampires. He's very very old. The film has been directed by Catherine Hardwicke, who is no stranger to teen angst ("Thirteen") and would-be hip and popular franchises ("Lords of Dogtown" and "The Nativity Story"), lacking for the most part in any noticable style or wit; this film is so utterly deadpan serious about its tale it's impossible to laugh at, no matter how hard you want to. Stewart, an up-and-coming young actress since David Fincher's "Panic Room" (2002), where she was Jodie Foster's resilient (and androgynous) daughter, does the best she can, I guess, with a role that is pretty thankless; why is this Bella Swan such a pop culture icon? Pattinson similarly plays the good-looking, tall, dark and handsome male lead who is also very popular, I guess. Never having read the books, I find it quite unfathomable what makes this series so popular - at least on the evidence of this film. There's something of a vampire renaissance in pop culture right now with the very adult book series that has inspired the very good HBO series "True Blood," also involving mind-reading and vampires and forbidden romance between the races and starring Anna Paquin. And there's the terrific literary adaptation from Sweden, "Let the Right One In," which is infinitely more thoughtful, affecting and just plain scary than this piece of popcorn entertainment aimed at tweens. The film has one fine scene - the vampires inexplicably decide to play baseball in a lightning storm and the whole scene is filmed with alarming hyperkinetic style. If the whole film was pitched at this velocity, Hardwicke could've maybe had something - or, at least, I'd get a headache and have a more interesting review to write. This is a dramatic dead zone.

Here is a thriller that plays with the notion of perspective - what one person sees from their point of view might be quite different from how someone else sees the same event. The President of the United States (William Hurt) arrives in Spain to give a speech as part of a summit on the Global War on Terror. Accompanying him are Secret Service agents Thomas Barnes (Dennis Quaid), fresh from being shot previously in another attempt on the President's life, now going through a certain amount of Post Traumatic Shock, and his young colleague Kent Taylor (Matthew Fox of TV's "Lost"). The event is being covered by GNN, produced from a trailer by the bitchy Rex Brooks (Sigourney Weaver), whose parents apparently didn't plan on a daughter. Meanwhile, tourist Howard Lewis (Forrest Whitaker) is separated from his wife and kids and has come to hear the President speak first hand, documenting it with a hand-held video camera. How these perspectives intertwine and the picture their mosaic creates I will leave for you to discover. The film is the feature directing debut of TV vet Pete Travis ("The Jury"); it is stylistically assured and very fast-paced. The screenplay is by first-timer Barry L. Levy, and is made of shorthand, shop-talk, yelling and occasional (PG-13-style) expletives. If the premise might remind you a bit of Brian DePalma's "Snake Eyes" (1998) with Nicolas Cage, I think that could be forgiven - though this lacks the seductive style, over-the-top histrionic acting, and obviousness in its plot. In the trailers, an apparent twist is given away - though it isn't as big a twist as you think. Conversely, there's a genuine "twist" I saw coming almost a mile away that isn't even hinted at in the trailers. The results are fun and intense, and worth the time (a mere 90 minutes!) if you think it's something you'd enjoy.

Woody Allen's sensual, bittersweet dramedy has all the dramatic heft of a feather and yet is utterly absorbing to watch. Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) are two young American students at liberty for the summer in Barcelona, Spain. Vicky is a straight-laced "Catalan studies" major who has no idea what she's going "do with that" for certain. She is happily engaged to Doug (Chris Messina), a fairly boring and safe young man who seems like he could provide for her, even if it won't make her happy. On the other hand, Cristina is the sexually vivacious, impulsive and brash, yet self-effacing, student filmmaker who "just wrote, directed and starred in a 12-minute short film she hates." Vicky's relatives, Judy (Patricia Clarkson) and Mark (Kevin Dunn) are keeping an eye on them as they spend their time drinking in the local flavor - the sights, sounds and textures of Barcelona. However, one night, at an art opening, Cristina is intrigued by a dark, handsome stranger in a red shirt. At dinner later, Vicky and Cristina are approached by this very man: Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem, doing a complete 180 after his Oscar-winning turn as a scary psychopath in the Coen Brothers' "No Country for Old Men"), a sexy painter who approaches them with a proposition - they will fly with him in one hour to a nearby town, have dinner, drink wine and then the three of them will make love. Vicky is appalled at this suave would-be Don Juan's advances, but Cristina is intrigued and soon the three of them are on a small plane in a thunder storm. Soon, these three will be entangled in a complex, emotionally tricky menage a trois (though not physically) which involves Vicky balancing a night of passion with Juan Antonio and her rational feelings for her fiancee, Cristina's own head-over-heels attraction to Juan Antonio and his attempts to have a good time without hurting anyone. Then enters the firecracker into this scenario: Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz) is the beautiful, but psychotically jealous, volatile and high-strung ex-wife of Juan Antonio who still deeply loves him but whose relationship with him "doesn't work." For reasons passing understanding, Juan Antonio invites her to sleep off a drastic measure on her part and soon she and he are sharing Cristina's affections, all the while Vicky stews in unrequited attraction and awaits a prison sentence in her marriage to Doug. Woody Allen, who wrote and directed, has made a specialty in his career over the past 30 plus years of painting portraits of intelligent, literate and well-spoken characters' travails in life and in love, and this is no different. However, by moving his story to the beautiful landscapes of Spain, and thanks in no small part to the adept visual stylings of cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe ("Talk to Her," "Goya's Ghosts"), this is the best-made Allen film in years, if not decades. Although the characters are the sorts of mid-level neurotics and would-be intellectuals that Allen loves to focus on, and although their dialogue sounds like that of Woody Allen's characters, this is like an Almodovar film - through a glass, lightly. If I had a major qualm, it was with the dry, superfluous narration of Christopher Evan Welch, who is detatched from the action and who seems to serve no purpose. There is no grand point, nor a great amount of laughs, but the film is not without a scintilla of humor, some solid, some sly and subtle, and is wonderful to watch and listen to. By summer's end, all the characters have at least been moved by the emotional weigh station they've just passed through, although dramatic changes may not be in the cards. They're all a bit wiser, with a new experience to learn from and draw on, and maybe they're better people for it.



NOTE: The flywheels at the MPAA have rated this PG-13, perhaps appropriately, yet it manages to be the most sensual and seductive non-R-rated film I can remember. Winner of the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress (Cruz) and the Independent Spirit Awards for Best Screenplay and Supporting Female (Cruz). Nominated for the Independent Spirit Award for Best Male Lead (Bardem).

Oliver Stone, fresh from taking on another controversial American subject in "World Trade Center" (2006), is one of America's finest filmmakers, and he brings all of his technical brilliance and political insight to bear on this hypnotically absorbing portrait of George W. Bush, the current President of the United States. Stone, who gave us the similarly linearly challenged masterpieces "JFK" (1991) and "Nixon" (1995), this time juxtaposes some time between 9/11 and the beginning of the current Iraq War with chronologically leapfrogging flashbacks (ala' "Lost") to W.'s early days at Yale, the moment he met his wife and First Lady Laura, his various past ventures into the worlds of politics and major league baseball, and the many fights and disagreements he had with his famous father and mother over his lack of direction in life (they apparently approved more of Jeb). Stone and screenwriter Stanley Weister ("Wall Street") give us a thought-provoking, engaging and surprisingly sympathetic look at the early life of maybe the world's most controversial figure, allowing us to get better insight into the man he was and the series of dramatic life-changes which led him to be the man he is today (his reasons for going after Saddam Hussein, for example). Is the film going to be a stunning shock to anyone who pays attention to politics lately and the things that have occurred in this country over Bush's 8 years (two terms) in office? No, probably not. But it does offer entertaining and intriguing notions as to how Bush, and by extension the American people, got to where we are. Josh Brolin is remarkably convincing and magnetic as W., with ample support from an all-star cast - like previous Stone biopics, the spirit is in tact even if the realism is flawed, but Stone fills his film with a gallery of standouts, including: the lovely Elizabeth Banks as Laura, the terrific James Cromwell and Ellen Burstyn as George H.W. and Barbara, the mousy and vaguely effeminate Toby Jones as Karl Rove, the Machiavellian Richard Dreyfuss as Dick Cheney, Stacy Keach as Bush's minister, who helped him reach his goal of spiritual renewal and sobriety, and Jeffrey Wright, fed-up beyond measure, as Colin Powell; Scott Glenn and Ioan Gruffudd as Donald Rumsfeld and Tony Blair, respectively, are not given too much to work with. For me, the real standout, however, is Thandie Newton, who is not so much an impersonator as an embodiment of Condoleeza Rice; her mannerisms and vocal qualities are spot-on. Stone's film has been reported as being a satire of the funniest President in history (with the deadliest legacy), but it's really not as comedic as it's touted as being (indeed, one of the two most satirical elements is the soundtrack!). Can Bush be laughed at? Of course (he, afterall, practically satirizes himself), but like Nixon, he embodies the banality of evil. Stone ultimately pities and strives to help us understand, not to judge or theorize, or to simply skewer him on a blade of over-the-top exaggeration. Like "World Trade Center," Stone pretty much lets his characters and history tell the story, leaving his bag of cinematic fireworks at home (a few stylized moments here and there, and Stone's occasional allowance for a hypothetic flight of fancy into W.'s psyche feel right, not superfluous or wrongfooted). Of all the questions asked, the most frequent is: Why does Stone let his film stop after the Iraq War is declared? Perhaps because history is still being made, and since Bush's legacy is still in progress, the film instead, wholly appropriately, ends on a note of unmistakable but apt metaphor, with a sly sideways wink. Indeed, the ending may be the most satirical element in the film.

Here is a delightful, visually stunning and thought-provoking PIXAR animation effort from writer-director Andrew Stanton, the maker of "Finding Nemo" (2003). This time, our unlikely hero is a robotic trash compactor who is cleaning the Earth in the future while humans all over the world live on a pleasure ship in orbit. Meanwhile, EVE (pronounced "Eva") is his love interest of sorts - a robot designed to find the last plant life on the planet. A Wal-Mart-esque corporation, having taken over the world, has helped to cheapen life on our planet, strangling it to death with our littering and carelessness. Meanwhile, the fat/lazy nature of all of the living humans aboard the ship is the subject of some pointed satire, and it's thought-provoking. Why is it that even our best animators are considering the global ecological crisis, but the U.S. government does nothing?!? This mostly a just plain lovely and entertaing animated piece of art! One of the year's finest films!



NOTE: If you saw this theatrically, there was a nice short film called "Presto" about a magician and his bunny, and it is preserved as a special feature on the DVD, alongside the new companion short "Burn-E." The film was nominated for 6 Oscars including Best Animated Film and Original Screenplay.

Kelly Reichardt's slice of life in a world of destitution isn't so much a film as it is a feeling - of what it is like to be out of your element, alone and lost, adrift in a sea of your own inadequacies, your pet dog your only friend.

Here is a "romantic comedy" where I can actually imagine the "comedic potential" in the premise - too bad it is squandered so shamelessly on a long, dumb, headache-inducing, ugly, mean-spirited (PG-13-style) tale in which the outcome is predetermined long before the opening credits roll. The plot: One half of the young couple at the center of this particular sitcom is Jack Fuller (Ashton Kutcher), a terminal slacker so inept at life that his own father (Treat Williams) fires him from a furniture business. The inevitable "better half" is the ironically-named Joy McNally (Cameron Diaz), a micromanaging, eager-to-please, workaholic (her boss, Richard Banger, is played by the ever-reliable Dennis Farina; I'll allow you to figure out the gag there), plan-obsessed shrew ("You made plans to make a plan!" is a constant refrain) who, as the movie opens, is dumped by fiancee' Mason (Jason Sudeikis)...in front of her friends...who are hiding...because it's his surprise birthday party...which she planned. Yeah, kind of a douche. Then, let's see here: Jack and Joy each head off to Las Vegas for the express purpose of drinking and partying away their troubles; Jack has his lawyer/best friend Hater (Rob Corddry) and Joy brings slightly skanky best pal Tipper (Lake Bell, who never ceases to amaze me - in terms of my disbelief at her continuing career). And there's Jack's other pal, who occasionally shows up, Dave the Bear (Zach Galifianakis, a funny comedian rendered inert here), who I'm pretty sure is a hairy gay man who looks for other hairy gay men to mate with; I realize this avenue is never explored, but why else would they call him that? Invariably, Jack and Joy get really stinking drunk and sleep together and, apparently, get married in their intoxicated state. Jack wants an annullment and she agrees, but things take a turn when they "share" a $3 million jackpot at the hotel casino; "What's mine is yours" and all that. So they're off to court: it was Joy's quarter, but slacker Jack inserted the quarter, pulled the lever, and got presented with the check. Unhappy with their unhappiness, if not a little amused, Judge Whopper (Dennis Miller; yes) sentences them to "6 months, hard marriage" and...hijinks ensue? The rest you pretty much see in the trailers, although I am a bit confused at the presence of Queen Latifah as Dr. Twitchell, a marriage counselor who sees them annually to check up on their progress. I think I said I could imagine the "comedic potential" of this film's premise. Allow me to clarify: were the screenplay by Dana Fox not so stale and moronic and the direction by Tom Vaughan not so utterly hacky, I could see how this might make a funny movie - except the film isn't very well-made, it's not very funny and the best that can be said is that the two utterly unlikable monsters at its center deserve each other - and should be quarantined from all others. My favorite parts? Dennis Miller as the judge gets in a good one-liner or two (I have a feeling they're improvised) - that and the ending credits: partially because of the John Oszajca song "I Hate You (My Friend)" and partially because it meant the film was over. What does that tell you?



NOTE: The extended edition runs 101 minutes. Don't bother.

Darren Aronofsky's astonishingly powerful, utterly absorbing and deeply moving drama is a specific portrait of a life - the life of a professional wrestler. Mickey Rourke stars (and yes, that is the unequivocal word for it) as Randy "The Ram" Robinson (or Robin Raminsky as was his original moniker), a down-and-out ex-80s superstar of hardcore wrestling on the East Coast who now spends his days working in the stock room at a suburban supermarket and his nights taking part in violent, disgusting matches in high school gymnasiums and union halls. Randy is old but tough, enduring the demeaning existence of a minimum wage hire while trying to make his rent; early in the film he is locked out of his trailer because he can't pay his rent due to his last match not paying as much as he was expecting. What's a former star to do but sleep in his van in the cold New Jersey snow? When he's not working, Randy frequents a local strip joint and cultivates a growing crush on an aging stripper called "Cassidy" (real name Pam, played by Marisa Tomei). She likes him, but she has "a line" that she does not cross with customers. His intentions seem honorable and sincere enough considering her line of work, but she's having none of that, despite what her gut may be telling her. What little plot there is kicks in when, after a particularly brutal match, Randy suffers "another heart attack" and is implored by his doctor to quit wrestling. He begrudgingly agrees at first, and, at Cassidy's suggestion, even seeks out his daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), now a vaguely Goth and dramatic college student who has age-old resentments and wounds that the sudden reappearance of her father can only reopen, rather than repair. Darren Aronofsky is the one-time wunderkind of the Sundance scene, having previously made the cult classic cyberpunk thriller "Pi" (1998) and the visually stunning, grunge-infested addict drama "Requiem for a Dream" (2000; my favorite film that year). He took a break for a while, attempting and finally succeeding to bring the perplexing and visually gorgeous sci-fi epic "The Fountain" (2006) to the screen with Hugh Jackman and Aronofsky's paramour Rachel Weisz, to critical and audience indifference and loathing. This film is a comeback of sorts for Aronofsky then, but it's unlike any of those previous films. Gone is the gritty homemade quality of his debut film, as well as the hip hop-influenced hyperkinetic flash of his sophomore effort. With this film, Aronofsky works for the first time with cinematographer Maryse Alberti ("Happiness," "Velvet Goldmine"), who has a background shooting documentaries mostly ("Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room," "Crumb," "Taxi to the Dark Side," "No End in Sight"). Using a grainy handheld camera, the results are gritty and utterly realistic. Gone too are the sensationalistic effects of Aronofsky's previous oeuvre; here, the biggest special effect is Rourke who, we gather, does much of his own wrestling - or at least appears to. This is actually perhaps Aronofsky's most easily watchable and accessible film to date because despite the brutality of the three or four wrestling scenes, it is totally spellbinding - you can't avert your eyes. A confession: I grew up as a fan of professional wrestling (back when WWE was WWF and before a wild-life foundation claimed the acronym for itself) and I was hardly ever subjected to wrestling this intense, harsh and just plain violent! Aronofsky, working from a gripping original screenplay by Robert Siegel, gets all of the physical details right - we see locker room negotiations between fellow wrestlers, talking it through, discussing strategems and verbally rehearsing the layout of their matches beforehand. The wrestlers, old and new alike, seem to get along and even party together after long nights at "work." Early on, when Randy is "supposed to" get cut, we see he's removed a razor from under his wrist tape and cuts himself while down, away from the prying eyes of the audience as his "opponent" keeps them distracted with his antics. Mickey Rourke's performance is something of a miracle, an astonishing revelation, a comeback that is long past-due (despite the slight resurgence after back-to-back triumphs in "Sin City" and "Domino" a few years back), a harking back to his glory days ("Barfly," "Angel Heart," "9 1/2 Weeks"). Like Randy, Rourke hasn't just disappeared, but has been out of the limelight for 20 some-odd years and has a hunger to regain his former prestige. His Randy is an amazing creation, a showcase in which all of Rourke's best and worst qualities are on display: his humor and warmth, as well as his rabid anger and capacity for bad boy antics; this is a raw, undiluted portrait. Tomei nearly matches him with somewhat lesser material; her Cassidy is scarcely less complex, but her performance is more subtle. How these two wounded birds find each other in this garbage dump of a modern world is utterly spellbinding, and profoundly moving. The film finds its heart, however, in Randy's struggle to adjust to "retired" life and when it goes wrong, it just plain snowballs. He is a wrestler; what else was he gonna do? By the time Cassidy is on his wavelength, he's long gone and it's actually too late; Rocky and Adrian this ain't. How Siegel and Aronofsky choose to end their film I'll leave you to discover, but let me just say that upon reflection it feels true and right; you know the ending reality would dictate, and so much do you come to care for Randy that you hope to all that is sacred that you're wrong. I challenge you not to have goosebumps and tears during the final moments of this film. Aronofsky has crafted a living, breathing, richly detailed, utterly convincing portrait of a specific existence; the term "slice of life" is apt - this cuts to the bone. One of 2008's very best films!



NOTE: Nominated (deservedly) for 2 Oscars for Actor and Supporting Actress. Also, the winner of 2 Golden Globes for Best Song and Best Actor, and nominated for Best Supporting Actress.

Kevin Smith's rollicking, raucous comedy is filthy, profane, mostly hilarious and finally downright heartwarming. To those who think Smith, the crownprince of all things scatalogical and shocking, has lost his nerve, I say he sets you up for it from the beginning. As the film opens, we meet Zack (Seth Rogen, having another great year after David Gordon Green's "Pineapple Express," which he was a co-writer of), a slightly overweight doofus who works at Bean-N-Gone, a small Starbucks-esque coffee store near the mall in the Pittsburgh semi-suburb of Monroeville. His co-worker is Delaney (Craig Robinson, familiar from TV's "The Office") and his boss is the (rightly) paranoid Hindi Mr. Surya (Gary Bednob - I did not make up that guy's name - who you may recall from another film with Rogen, Judd Apatow's "The 40 Year Old Virgin"). Zack's roommate is Miri (Elizabeth Banks), a foul-mouthed gal who has been platonic pals with Zack since the first grade and who, we gather, has an open-door policy when it comes to potential relationships - she will pretty much do whatever she feels like the guy wants on the first date, and then is somewhat stunned when they don't call her the next day, or really ever again for that matter. These two lifelong friends live together, split the rent and utilities, and live on poverty row, renting a two bedroom apartment that is barely standing. One night, Zack and Miri attend their 10th High School Reunion where they hope to get even with the jocks and cheerleaders and just generally mean-spirited former peers who once called Miri "Stinky Linky" (after her last name), and who generally ignored Zack during his pothead days. Miri finds her illusions shattered when a guy who treated her badly way back when, Bobby Long (Brandon Routh, in a major step-up from "Superman Returns"), turns out to be hiding something which pretty much stops her plan for revenge-sex in its tracks. Let's just say, it involves a hilarious and filthy-mouthed (and minded) creation named Brandon (Justin Long; ironic, I know, that he has the same last name in reality as the other character, and that the other actor has his character's reirst name in reality) who pretty much brings down the house. Zack and Miri's lives take an unexpected turn when two disgruntled teen brat customers decide to videotape Miri changing and post it on YouTube, making them something of an overnight viral sensation. When they can't pay their bills, the plot finally kicks in, and they decide to make a porn film to cash in on their success and attempt to make ends meet. They enlist the former cameraman for their high school's varsity away games, Deacon (Jeff Anderson of "Clerks" fame); a sweet, helium-voiced stripper named Stacey (actual porn actress Katie Morgan); a rather effeminate youngster named Barry (Ricky Mabe); a uniquely talented amateur porn actor named Lester (Jason Mewes, the first half of Jay and Silent Bob), whose full name has to be heard to be believed; and a bizarrely talented "performance artist" named Bubbles (Traci Lords, another refugee from the world of porn). With some funds from Delaney, they're off and away. Their plan takes some hilarious and unexpected twists and turns, though it's mostly just an excuse for a lot of dirty, occasionally disgusting, often foul-mouthed humor. What makes this film unique, however, is the relationship of the title characters. Of course, if they're making a porno with such a small cast, they themselves will have to act in it, but they are strictly platonic, or have been, thus far and what will having sex do to the relationship? Kevin Smith, who wrote and directed, has here made a filthy, raunchy comedy treading some of the same rough territory of "Chasing Amy" (1997), with much of the heart and all-but-syrupy sweetness still in-tact; this may indeed be his best film since then. Seth Rogen is the kind of big, sweet, dumb guy with a dirty mouth and an indefinable endearing quality that you can actually find growing on you. Elizabeth Banks proves that she was the right person to play Miri - a potentially wonderful girlfriend, sure, but also a pal with whom you can share disgusting jokes and familiarity; remarkably, this comes in the same season that she so adepty played the First Lady, Laura Bush, in Oliver Stone's "W." They are surrounded by a terrific supporting cast, completely game and utterly capable of delivering Smith's dialogue with aplomb. Smith, as usual, peppers his film with an astonishing and never-ending range of profanity, as well as pop culture references which are knowing and often hilarious. This has been a very good year for stunningly profane, goofy, "dumb" comedy that transcends itself; this film joins the ranks of "Pineapple Express," Ben Stiller's "Tropic Thunder" and the Coen Brothers' "Burn After Reading." Ultimately, this is a very, very funny and oddly (and almost inexplicably) endearing comedy that will live a great long while.



NOTE: The flywheels at the MPAA rated this NC-17 because of the pure shock of the material (this isn't even grazing the surface of the issue over the title), but re-rated it R on appeal. The DVD contains over an hour and a half of deleted/extended scenes and another 20 minutes or so of gag reels. Watch through the ending credits for a very funny sequence about halfway through.