Saturday, February 28, 2009

BONUS: BABY MAMA (2008)

CHICK FLICK PARENTING TIP: Home pregnancy testing should not involve peeing in the sink.

THE CARD:

A white trash Fairchild Van Waldenberg, a smoothy-chugging Bob Crane, Frito, the 40-year-old Blacky, baby-pimping Ridley, lispy Dorothy Harris, a vagina-poking PC, Steve Martin trying to apologize for Inspector Clouseau by being funny again and succeeding, the thankful absence of Jimmy Fallon, and the wonderful, breath-taking, incomparable, pant-filling, and awkwardly sexy Liz Lemon.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Corporate vice president Kate (Tina Fey) excels at her job as a top executive for a frou-frou healthy supermarket chain run by goofily aloof Barry (Steve Martin). But despite the big paychecks and store grand openings, the urge to become a mother still boils deep down inside her. Being a fiercely independent modern woman, Kate wants to raise a kid alone and pursues artificial insemination, but her deformed uterus prevents any man’s seed from finding purchase. So she pursues surrogate parenting at a clinic run by plenty fertile Chaffee Bicknell (Sigourney Weaver) who pairs her with loud, low-class Angie (Amy Poehler) and her loutish loser boyfriend (Dax Shepard). Kate overwhelms Angie with attention, pop culture parenting tips, and baby books which Angie initially dismisses. But she finally gets pregnant, she breaks up with her boyfriend and shows up at Kate’s doorstep with nowhere else to go. Hilarity ensues at the two nutty gals try to live with each other without turning each other crazy. But Angie is keeping a secret from Kate, not that she’s a white trash trollop mind you, but that she the fertilized egg inside her belly may not be Kate’s. As Angie continues the charade, Kate meets juice store owner Rob (Greg Kinnear) and the pair start romancing. And despite all the lies abound, all the wacky hilarious situations concocted, and all the immense talent involved, the movie fails to give birth to a giggle from yours truly.

THE FINISHER:

Sung to the tune of Barry Manilow’s Mandy

TINA

By El Tremendo, guitar accompaniment by Film Geek Schu

I’ve been watching all my life
Boring TV dull as rice
Switching through the channels
Weeping on my flannel
Shirt into the night

Saturday was just another night
Comedy was nowhere in sight
Looking into your nerdy speckled eyes
I see a memory I never realized
SNL was funny because of you, oh Tina

Well you came and you made me chuckle
And you’re really so swell, oh Tina
You joked and you quipped and you funny
I wish I met you in the Eighties, oh Tina

I'm just a film geek who blogs movies
I know I’ll never meet anyone as groovy
All I have for you is this melody
That proves I can't write parodies, oh Tina

Well you came and you made 30 Rock
But your movie wasn’t as good, oh Tina
I’m sorry that I must knock
Your movie today, oh Tina

Tomorrow’s another day, a never-ending cycle
And you are still funny and still cute
Just stay away from Lorne Michaels
Oh Tina!

Well you came and you made me chuckle
And you’re really so swell, oh Tina
You joked and you quipped and you funny
I wish I met you in the Eighties, oh TINA!


Apologies to Barry, Lorne, Tina, Mr. Tina, and just about everyone on the planet.

BECOMING JANE (2007)

CHICK FLICK ETTIQUETTE TIP: Before you go to Jane Austen Summer Camp, be sure to pack your petticoat, Watteau gown, and plenty of barrier undies.

THE CARD:

Jane Not Getting Married, Wanted by Jane, a stuffy Mrs. Weasley gets her carpet cleaned, Zefram Cochrane of Hampshire, Maggie the evil Dame, tea pots and stiff upper lips, wine whores and fisticuffs, unfulfilled love and poofy neckerchefs, and the origin of the most famous literary virgin not writing comic books.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

18th Century, England. Jane (Anne Hathaway) lives in comfy poverty with her devoted family on a struggling farm. She contributes to the daily chores in her humdrum rural life with dreams of becoming a novelist. Farmer Dad (James Cromwell) is facing financial difficulties and Mom (Julie Walters) hopes that marrying Jane off to wealthy Wisley (Laurence Fox) will save the farm and the family. But Jane is stubbornly independent and chronically free-thinking which annoys Wisley’s cantankerous aunt Lady Gresham (Maggie Smith). And dull ol’ Wisley does nothing to change ardent Jane’s mind and he pouts like a dorky 18th century teen dolt does. One day, Jane’s brother Henry (Joe Anderson) comes home with dashing cad Tom Lefroy (Jame McAvoy) who is to stay in the countryside after been admonished by his powerful uncle Judge Langlois (Ian Richardson). Tom is a wild and crazy guy, loves the ladies of the night, enjoys a barrel of wine or two, and indulges in beating up his pals. After trashing one of Jane’s stories as juvenile piffle, she comes to despise this unwelcome bounder. But, as Jane reluctantly learns, Tom is really a dreamboat, albeit a smelly one, and his loutish behavior masks a romantic, philosophizing soul that she eventually comes to love. Soon the pair engages in outrageous, scandalous behavior: strolling by the river, dancing within three feet of each other, and talking. And that horny bastard Tom may have caught a glimpse of Jane’s ankle. Gasp! When he learns of Jane’s family’s financial state, Langlois forbids Tom to marry her claiming she’s only after his money. What follows is heartbreak and tears, and Jane faces the inevitability of marrying Wisley for her family’s sake. But Tom returns to take her away and elope, despite his uncle and the evil mechanizations of Lady Gresham. But fate has a different destination in store for them, which results in some of the most beloved novels and stories in world literature, to say nothing of the huge sales in hankies and bon-bons.

THE FINISHER:

Becoming Jane is based on anecdotal evidence of novelist Jane Austen’s brief flirtation with noted Irish politician Tom Lefroy in their younger days, and as a story, it’s a perfectly fine weepy romance, but as history it’s probably more of a stretch. The fans of Jane Austen are surely to enjoy these theorized tidbits about the adored author while dissecting the film for accuracies or lack thereof, but I was frankly kind of bored citing my already stated unfamiliarity with Austen. The movie drags towards the end, seemingly unwilling to come to the inevitable conclusion that Jane will forsake a married life on the fringe for her family and her art. But the endeavor to present a story on a personality whose private life went relatively undocumented is not envied, but the effort is nonetheless satisfying. The movie is essentially a reworking of Pride and Prejudice with the author as the main character, and its biggest problem is the theory that Austen wasn’t good until a man came into her life, told her how bad she was, and then broke her heart so that she may become the great writer she was destined to be. Laid out like that, the movie seems contemptible, right? But if you look at it another way, such as the message that every writer’s workshop I’ve even attended slogan-izes in dangerously Buddhist tones, the film’s message may be stated that to suffer is to write. Or maybe the screenwriters were sexist, reductionist jerks. Who knows? Anyway, Hathaway is good as Jane, despite her shaky accent which teeters between Austen and Ella Enchanted, while McAvoy proves yet again he is a believable and solid romantic lead. Becoming Jane tries to homage a woman who would one day be compared with the likes of Henry James and Shakespeare. And so what if the movie isn’t a historically accurate portrayal of Austen’s life? Fans will either love or hate this intriguing, if speculative, insight into her life which prompted yours truly to read Austen’s Wikipedia page with possible, if a bit hesitant, plans to pick up one of her books.

Is February over yet?

Thursday, February 26, 2009

THE JANE AUSTEN BOOK CLUB (2007)

CHICK FLICK DATING TIP: When picking up a hot chick in a bookstore, be sure to hide your Star Wars hardbacks.

THE CARD:

Coyote Hotty, Blunt Force Wowie, a cheatin’ Sifuentes, a lezzy Shannon lost in the fog, nerdy Dancy fancy-pants, Old Lady Redgrave the suicidal clown, and the Stephen King of hoity-toity lovelorn weepy marriage-destroying doily-wetting British novelists.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

We open with a funny and clever montage of modern life’s more frustrating irritants: bogged traffic, people gabbing on cell phones, credit card swipes that won’t work, and Jimmy Smits’ goatee. (Well, at least I thought I saw a goatee.) To escape the stress of everyday life in the metropolis of Sacramento, aging MILF Bernadette (Kathy Baker) assembles her friends a book club devoted to the novels of the ubiquitous Jane Austen to reflect on unrequited feelings, the pursuit of truth in oneself, and the strength to deal with another of life’s frustrating irritants: love. Amongst the participants are Jocelyn (Maria Bello) - a lonely dog-trainer skeptical of finding true love, recently divorced and depressed Sylvia (Amy Brenneman), Sylvia’s lesbian daughter and clumsy thrill-seeker Allegra (Maggie Grace), straitlaced intellectual but emotionally wrecked Prudie (Emily Blunt), and hunky Sci-Fi nerd Grigg, a token man recruited by Jocelyn as a potential date for friend Sylvia. The group bonds over time while exploring the ideas and thoughts on love found in the books and eventually each of them finds parallels in their own lives to Austen’s poofy narratives. Jocelyn is in denial over her feelings for the much younger and curiously eccentric Grigg. Sylvia is still in love with her philandering husband (Smits). Allegra is not so allegra and is having issues with her writer girlfriend who’s stealing ideas from her. High school teacher Prudie is in a dull marriage, deals with her crackpot Mom (Lynn Redgrave) and has the taboo-ish hots for studly student Trey (Kevin Zegers) whose teeny-bopper smoldering act is begging for a thousand punches with a barbed wired fist. Um, but I digress. Eventually, the group becomes hypnotized by the fantasy world of Jane Austen and each finds guidance in the works for their own paths in life. But most importantly of all, somewhere beneath the criticism of the prim and proper ways of her time, beneath the sweet and sappy romancing, and beneath the charm and irony of Austen’s writing, they find fudge cake.

THE FINISHER:

Back when I was Little Tremendo, before I even had thoughts of reaching the glandular heights of my eventual professional wrestling and movie blogging career, I was a dumpy, clumsy, tubby kid. Yes, I know it’s hard to believe. I recall one childhood memory when I was invited by a distant cousin, a famously douchey jock in our town, to his birthday party on the more well-off, whiter side of town. I was the only one who showed up in a shirt and tie, the only one with polished patent leather shoes, and the only one wearing a rooster-inspired wrestling mask. The bigger boys played tackle football and talked about girls and carburetors. My only cultural expertise at the time was Porky Pig and Chocodiles. I was an instant outcast. No one talked to me, looked at me, or acknowledged my presence. Even when the cousin opened my gift, an awesome stainless steel airplane model with folding wings, he cast it aside without a thank-you or nary a care towards my feelings. Dick. This was my earliest memory of being ostracized, alienated, and uninvolved and it definitely did not feel good. I experienced an uncomfortably familiar tidal wave of déjà vu when watching today’s movie The Jane Austen Book Club, an experience that almost demands a rudimentary familiarity with Austen that I sorely lack. The memory of that shit-fuck cousin laughing at me and my frosting-stained tie distracted me for the first thirty minutes of the movie. I felt as if I had been invited to a Jane Austen themed birthday party where everyone was dressed in period costumes and speaking Austen-ese while I had shown up with Spock ears and an Austin 3:16 T-shirt. So you see the dilemma I faced when trying to get into this film, an effort that was arduous to say the least. But the movie eventually settles into a level of formulaic enjoyment and sense of humor that made it moderately entertaining. Its flaws are many, but you can mostly narrow it down to the lack of depth in any of the characters (except for the outstanding Blunt who again steals the show), and as a result there’s little insight into Austen’s work that doesn’t rise above popular conceptions of her writing. Was she the rom-com queen/chick flick princess of her time? Maybe, or maybe not. The Jane Austen Book Club doesn’t do much to persuade the uninitiated to pursue Austen’s novels, but the movie is a harmless, often heartwarming story about friendships, relationships, and the paths that love leads us. And for at least 100 minutes, I was able to forget the memories of those hulking teen bruisers who mocked my Coke-bottle glasses and shoved me in the mud while they high-fived each other and presumably went off to shower together.

Did Jane Austen ever write a book about bloody revenge?

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

DATE WITH AN ANGEL (1987)

CHICK FLICK ETTIQUETTE TIP: Ladies, when visiting a Catholic Church for the first time, try not to dry hump Jesus.

THE CARD:

A fried-food loving seraph, a K.I.T.T.-less Michael Knight, a bewildered Princess Caraboo with not a Gizmo in sight, Charlie Lane the pothead priest, an ass-hungry Doberman, 80s Dickheads, a tumor-inducing synthesizer soundtrack, and more stupid angelic theorizing than a Dan Brown fan convention.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Irritating Asshole (Michael E. Knight) is a wannabe music composer who’s engaged to rich brat Patty (Phoebe Cates), but being a fun-loving Irritating Asshole, he doesn’t take the expectations of upper-crust society seriously. In fact, Irritating Asshole would rather be back at his dumpy apartment writing shitty tunes on his Casio and making out with a love doll. His engagement party is broken up by armed masked men who kidnap him at gunpoint and frighten the wits out of the attendees. But it turns out that this horrifying act of terror was all in good fun as the kidnappers turn out to be Irritating Asshole’s Irritating Asshole Friends who have dragged him off to his bachelor party, much to the chagrin of Patty’s make-up mogul father Ed (David Dukes). After a drunken night of Irritating Asshole shenanigans, Irritating Asshole wakes to an injured angel (Emmanuelle Beart) floating in his pool. You see, the angel hit a satellite on her way to Earth and the unfortunate intelligent design of physics gravitated towards her to the doorstep of the planet’s most Irritating Asshole. Lucky for Irritating Asshole, the angel is a complete babe, really digs French fries, and possesses the power to hypnotize dogs and cats. Unfortunately, the angel doesn’t speak, squeals like a hurt puppy/dolphin hybrid, and is viewed as a prime target by Irritating Asshole’s Irritating Asshole Friends who want to exploit her for merchandising. Meanwhile, Patty’s evil Dad wants to use the angel in an ad campaign to save his failing company and pissed-off Patty thinks the angel is Irritating Asshole’s mistress and wants to clip her wings permanently. And wacky hilarity ensues with Irritating Asshole protecting the angel from the bad guys, trying to heal her injured wing, and helping her complete her mission to Earth which may mean an Irritating Asshole end to the Irritating Asshole, much like a Preparation H medicated pad.

THE FINISHER:

Director Tom McLoughlin once had what could be viewed as a promising career in horror films. His first film was the underrated non-Batman mausoleum-based zombie movie One Dark Night and its follow-up Jason Lives, arguably one of the best of the later Friday the 13th sequels. But his career took a decidedly tragic turn with the release of the achingly unfunny Date With An Angel, an offensively boring and painfully incompetent attempt to cash in on other fish-out-of-water romantic fantasies Splash and Mannequin. Not exactly a chick flick but more of a stupid teen comedy, the movie is mired in dim-witted jokes, no real story to speak of, and some of the blandest dorkiest shittiest performances ever recorded on film. Knight is a dunderhead misfire who tries to capture the clumsy charm of Tom Hanks but can’t escape his vanilla roots in soap opera acting. The usually adorable Cates hams it up and is essentially wasted here, doing wacky cartoonish shtick that doesn’t fit her. If I hadn’t forgotten 90% of this crappy movie, I may have went on a limb and stated this might be the worst movie I’ve seen since I started the blog, and brother that’s a whole of competition you’re staring at! The only highlight is the gorgeous Beart as the angel who is lovely to look at, but even her scarily Paris Hilton-ish looks can’t raise this movie above cherubic excrement. And thirty minutes into this thing, the only date with an angel you’ll be praying for is the sweet release of death.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

A LITTLE PRINCESS (1995)

CHICK FLICK GROWING UP TIP: In the bleakest of times, in the coldest of days, in the darkest of hours, always trust your inner monkey.

THE CARD:

A trust baby lead, a blue goof not named after a New York City borough, a mystical Haji-Deux-Ex-Machina, poor blacky in the attic, pretend muffins, chubby love, a Disney villain in training, monkey hats, and Y Tu Dead Mama Tambien.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

India, 1914. Little Sarah (Liesel Matthews) lives with her British officer-cracker factory baron-father Capt. Crewe (Liam Cunningham). Despite the recent death of her mother, she enjoys a bucolic childhood with her little Indian friends climbing gigantic heads and telling sweeping, romantic, and fantastic tales about a princess and her Smurf-ish prince. When Dad is called off to war, Sarah gets shipped to her mother’s old boarding school in New York, headed by cruel bitch Miss Minchin (Eleanor Bron), your typically evil gothic sexless matron. Not only is Sarah expected to adhere to the school’s strict etiquette and oppressive rules, she’ll also be taught to become a lady and leave behind childish things like dolls and fairy tales. Strong-willed Sarah almost immediately rebels, questioning the rigid regulations, the harsh treatment of servant girl Becky (Vanessa Lee Chester), and the lack of imagination all around. Most of the girls take an instant shine to Sarah and her fascinating storytelling, especially her claim that all girls, no matter what age or race, are princesses. Minchin puts up with her behavior only because Daddy has laid out the big bucks for Sarah to be well cared for, but when news arrives that Dad’s bit the big one against the Krauts, she puts cutey-pie Sarah in the attic with Becky and a mop. Minchin takes her revenge on Sarah and leaves her nothing but scraps to eat and rags to wear. Becky and Sarah’s bond strengthens as Sarah continues telling her story despite the daily humiliation wreaked up on her by Minchin and the girls who didn’t like her. However, Sarah’s heartbreak begins to wear her down, and she enters a dark world without hope as she misses her father and sees no point to using her imagination any longer. But an Indian mystic named Ram Dass (Errol Sitahal) and his monkey move in next door and his wisdom restores Sarah’s faith in magic. Minchin tightens her control on Sarah, but one day, a mysterious stranger appears who possesses the power to liberate Sarah from her tyrannical captivity and away from the mushroom-fueled grip of King Koopa. If he finds the right castle, that is.

THE FINISHER:

Alfonso Cuaron is surely the finest director who ever helmed a Harry Potter flick as his popular and well-reviewed Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is certainly the best of the Potter movies. And his proving ground in handling kid actors and fantasy material was this adaption of A Little Princess, based on the children's classic by Frances Hodgson Burnett. The worlds of both films eerily mirror themselves in various ways including a gifted outsider struggles to find her/himself in an oppressive atmosphere, must deal with the loss of parents, and must contend an evil figure who holds a pivotal secret to his/her past. Oh, and Harry Potter squirts tears like a little girl now and then. Cuaron, known for the saucy Y Tu Mama Tambien and the emotional and politically-charged science-fiction film Children of Men, shows a talent for directing children’s films with gorgeous set design, imaginative storytelling, and beautiful cinematography. The adult actors all turn in fine performances, especially Bron as the coldhearted Minchin. The supporting cast, much like in the Potter movies, provide the chuckles when needed but aren’t very interesting when you take in the bigger picture. Although most of the children’s performances fall a little flat, the simple story doesn’t do much to help elevate the actors to great heights. Don’t get me wrong - it’s a good story, but sometimes a little too familiar at times. Matthews is a great-looking kid, but her character isn’t given a whole lot of depth. She’s a little girl who is very well educated, very intelligent, and very imaginative, but the fact that her emotional state is fragile, given the fact that she’s had a relatively easy ride on cracker money, isn’t explored at any length. Nevertheless, A Little Princess is an unassuming and often entertaining fantasy film that is recommended to chick Moms everywhere to watch with their little chick princesses.

Friday, February 20, 2009

HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU (2009)

SPECIAL GUEST REVIEW

Movie reviewer Chuck Marvin possesses the uncanny ability to dissect cultural movements and trends to their bare minimum revealing with surgical precision the forces that rule the world and bring man down - literally. Caustic critic of the female industrial complex, grim de-constructionist of the vast matriarchal conspiracy, and longtime friend of Tremendo Time, Chuck Marvin returns to grace the blog with one of his visceral, incisive, and brutally honest treatises on the state of film today. Creator of an all-but-forgotten legendary column, Chuck Marvin breaks down the real reasons why men go to Dixie Chicks concerts, exchange football-filled Sunday afternoons for lamp shade antiquing, and eat yogurt. Here you will read the truth. Here you will see the light. Here you will know in the simplest of terms, in the most convenient of definitions, why it's all her fault.

Or maybe he's just a dick.

You can learn more about Chuck Marvin here.

HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU (2009)

by Chuck Marvin

Figuratively castrated men, males only by anatomical definition, bemoan their current relationship circumstances while a collection of perfectly outlined women: controlling, manipulative, materialistic, whiny and self-involved, try to figure out why they can’t crack the answers to their coupling woes.

Anyone who holds out hope that the real male is somehow still breathing should watch He Just Isn’t That Into You and euthanize those Utopian thoughts once and for all.

Then at some general era in the 1980s—in that sad period of time that welcomed in When Harry Met Sally and Sleepless in Seattle while bringing an end to the insight of Bronson, Dirty Harry and the films of Sam Peckinpah—the chick flick was born.

And men haven’t been the same since. This embarrassing excuse of a genre has endured because men continually yield to the whims of their significant other, for some reason afraid of the backlash if they don’t take a stand. The chromosome with the danglers doesn’t fear the consequences. He enacts the consequences. Yet even Eastwood starred in the Bridges of Madison County. What kind of example is that?

So this behavior has given life to a string of forgettable sin-ematic atrocities. Give a woman a genre and soon she’ll control your rightful genetic dominance.

Not that it matters, but here’s the gist of He’s Just Not That Into You. There’s some sniveling female who acts as narrator who starts the film repeating her mistakes because she pines for that douche who plays Eric in that pitiful Entourage show, but Eric, who is equally whiny, has the hots for Scarlett Johansson, who is in turn hot for some dude she hooked up with in line at a grocery store, who in turn is being bossed around by his manipulative, materialistic, control-freak wife Jennifer Connolly, who pretends to be calm and collected and gives insightful advice to the narrator chick. Can you see where this is headed? That perhaps confused narrator chick will find some epiphany while manipulative Connolly will have her perfectly structured dream life shattered? Oh, you didn’t. Don’t yell at Chuck Marvin. Thank Chuck Marvin, especially if you allege to have a pair, because Chuck Marvin is saving you the time of enduring this celluloid wench.

Oh, Drew Barrymore is in the movie too. Chuck Marvin really isn’t sure why. And Justin Long, who used to bang Barrymore, but now they’re just friends. You see, Barrymore is great at playing the modern male’s ideal female: flighty, carefree, jovial. What the modern male doesn’t understand is that works for a weekend in the Bahamas with a bottle of Cialis, but after that the whole free-spirit thing sort of gets old.

Or maybe Justin Long did understand this, because he isn’t spending weekends with Drew in the Bahamas anymore. Long is this movie’s most interesting case study in terms of the castrated male. He’s the advice doctor, a bartender who can score with whatever woman he wants, but doesn’t get involved. The writers of the book/producer/director of this flick consider this a bad thing and decide to utterly gut his maledom by having him fall for our confused narrator. Never mind that Justin could romp with some way hotter bartender at a moment’s notice. Why in the world would that be a good idea? It makes far more sense to trade one’s dignity for the love of an “enlightened” loon.

Sadly, there’s more. Chuck Marvin hasn’t even gotten into the whole Jennifer Aniston/Ben Affleck nesting debacle. Here’s a dude who digs her, but she wants more. It’s not enough to be happy and with someone who you can trust. No. It just doesn’t cut it unless Jen has that magical ring. Who’s the real Gollum? In the sequel, be sure to title this subplot He’s Just Not That Into Divorce Court.

And if that’s not enough, this example of modern liberation includes more than enough trendy staples: yoga class, vegans, a green ad agency, the obligatory gay friends and sassy, overweight black women (and somehow this isn’t viewed as an outrage in casting stereotypes). But the coup de grace is the dude who’s piping Scarlett instead of stuffing stuffy Connolly. Control-freak Jennifer is much more concerned about whether her Playdoh vertebraed hubby is lying about smoking. You see, because cigarettes are evil. Before there are those of you out there who argue that Chuck Marvin missed the point about the cigarettes, that it’s really about hubby’s lying, Chuck Marvin argues that if Connolly would quit attempting to control every facet of this sad soul’s life, he might not be so whipped into the fear of the conflict. Yeah, there’s give and take in every marriage. You give and she takes. Sorry Jennifer “God” Connolly that he can’t always been remade in your image. Spine optional. Maybe a willingness to allow a nuance here and there isn’t such a bad thing.

This might be a healthier answer than complaining about his matrimonial philosophies (Aniston), or luring the married man into a sordid affair, only to jump ship when wifey intervenes (Johansson), or mapping out every aspect of his life.

At least there’s one nugget of truth that this latest genre fool’s gold has unearthed. In this chick flick, He Might Not Be Into You, but it’s still all her fault.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

THE UNINVITED (2009)

CHICK FLICK FAMILY TIP: Don’t get along with Dad’s new girlfriend but you want to break the ice and do something nice? Say it with diesel fuel.

THE CARD:

Count Olaf’s foil, Miri makes a horror movie, humpy-pumpy Pierce Patchett, Momma Zombie, a scary lake house sans Sandra Bullock, a spooky John Tucker hater, Nestle’s Blood Milk, an M. Night vata-twist, and Charlie Brown’s Dismembered Girlfriend.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Anna (Emily Browning) is a young girl plagued with nightmares, mental illness, and a bearded fat shrink (Dean Paul Gibson). She’s been locked up in the nuthouse for almost a year following the tragic death of her terminally ill mother in a house fire. Shrink feels that she’s making dramatic progress and recommends that she be released. Her Dad (David Strathairn), a successful author, picks her up and takes her home to their luxurious lakeside home. There, she reunites with older sister Alex (Arielle Kebbel) and Dad’s new girlfriend Rachael (Elizabeth Banks) who she greets with suspicious revulsion. Rachael used to be her mother’s nurse and the girls have long suspected that she was seducing Dad while their Mom was dying. Anna has a little crush on local boy Matt (Jesse Moss) who Rachael disapproves of, and when she interferes in their relationship, Anna’s resentment intensifies. She begins to have terrifying hallucinations and nightmares about her rotting mother, a decapitated body of a young girl in a garbage bag, and various chilling blood-drenched visions. Each dream reveals a piece of a terrifying puzzle that points to Rachael’s involvement in the death of the girls’ mother as well as the murder of three children that may be connected as well. But Anna’s problems are much larger than piecing together a Scooby Doo mystery. Dad wants to send her back to the mental hospital, Alex’s behavior grows increasingly odd by the hour, and black widow Rachael is on to her. It’s almost as if she’ll need a sixth sense or help from others to sort this whole mess out before she gets sent to an orphanage.

Ahem.

THE FINISHER:

Ghost stories possess the powerful quality to expose our insecurities, concerns, and apprehension about humanity and our limited time on Earth. But they also serve to present the dramatic conflicts and inner turmoil a family experiences when they lose a loved one, especially a parent. My argument that The Uninvited, an uninspired but effective little horror movie, is a chick flick owes much to the latter quality of such spooky stories. Other than the fact that the movie does indeed star chicks, the film can be easily placed on a short list of chick horror flicks. Based on the Korean horror film A Tale of Two Sisters, the movie explores themes and ideas found in most chick flicks, albeit in less bloody detail, including sexual insecurities, sibling jealousy, and Daddy issues. But despite that, the movie looks and feels like a weepy TV movie, but it’s the cast that really rises about the trite material. Browning, a young actress with a lot going for her, and the increasingly great Banks both do a terrific job of carrying the film which could have easily sunk to the levels of boring badness from recent Asian horror remakes. The filmmakers establish a relatively quiet tone with less emphasis on big scares and more concern on building character, which mostly succeeds. There are definite twists to the story, but even the least seasoned filmgoer should be able to spot them within the first half hour. That being said, the ending still surprises and is satisfying. The Uninvited is a not a pant-pooping scare-fest, but a passable flick for couples movie night when all you can handle are slight shivers and a jump or two.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

CHUTNEY POPCORN (1999)

CHICK FLICK DATING TIP: When you’re on a long-anticipated date with that sexy Indian guy or gal in your life, take it easy on the Apu impressions.

THE CARD:

Doc Jordan pitching for the other team, a hip-hop Samir Nagheenanajar, a Grade-A whitey goofball, insemination through turkey basting, plenty of low budge HLA, and too much popcorn, not enough chutney. Whatever that is.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Reena (Nisha Ganatra) is a would-be photographer, a talented hena tattoo artist, and an Indian-American lesbian. She struggles with her traditionalist mother Meenu (Madhur Jaffrey) who is in denial about her daughter’s sexuality, and Mom’s obsession with marking every single occasion with a religious ritual. In Meenu’s eyes, Reena cannot do anything right and will be miserable her whole life if she refuses to marry and have children. On the other hand, Sarita (Sakina Jeffrey) is Reena’s perfect sister who married chowderhead white boy Mitch (Nick Chinlund), settled down to family life, and is on her way to pumping out grandbabies. Thing is, she can’t. And so Reena, who is accused of being self-involved and irresponsible, tries to make-up for her ill-deserved reputation and offers to carry a baby for plumbing-challenged Sarita, to the shock of Ma Meenu and Reena’s live-in girlfriend Lisa (Jill Hennessy). Reena’s well-intentioned decision disrupts all the relationships in her life, from her brother-in-law to Mom to her UPS delivery girl. But the most affected is Sarita whose womanhood and ego is bruised and crushed. Ultimately, she rejects Reena’s well-meaning offer which causes turmoil in her relationship with Lisa who doesn’t want children and is intimidated by Reena’s resolve to have a baby. Sarita is further frustrated when Mitch refuses to have sex with her because he doesn’t want to waste his sperm and wants to save the best for Reena’s injection. No, really. In the end, when Reena indeed becomes pregnant, she must decide whether or not to continue with her decision as her choice will change her life and decide the fate of her odd-tasting snack-eating family.

THE FINISHER:

Chutney Popcorn has all the polish of an average student film with the good intentions of a more matured work. This thing had some serious technical problems which at times ruined any entertainment or education value it wanted to lay out. Seriously, I had a hard as hell time trying to hear this thing as the sound was almost impossible to decipher. But as far as the subject matter is concerned, the dramatic conflicts between family, religion, and sexuality is well-trodden territory and is a pitfall the movie often finds itself mired in. But the actors are able to overcome this familiar feel with appealing performances by the unknown cast as well as the established actors such as Hennessy. The only real flaw is the casting of writer-director Ganatra as Reena, the main character. As an actress, Ganatra is awful. She delivers an expressionless, one-note, emotionally blank performance that made it really difficult to sympathize or identify with her. At times the movie smacks of a vanity project and if there’d been a shred of something special revealed in the storytelling, it would be forgiven. But there isn't, however there is evidence of some talent here, and perhaps Ganatra should have stepped back and let someone else take on the role. The movie approaches the theme of family values sensitively and humorously, respecting expectations by parents and the choices made by their children while embracing the unpredictability of familiar love and relationships. Chutney Popcorn is hobbled by a weak main character and amateurish feel, but succeeds as refreshingly light feature that lays the groundwork for better chicks who like chicks chick flicks from this filmmaker.

But one question remains - what the hell is chutney?

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

LOVE ACTUALLY (2003)

CHICK FLICK DATING TIP: Never leave Billy Bob Thornton alone in a room with a woman. Ever.

THE CARD:

Undead Philip, the Firth Man of Rom-Coms, Laura Non-Linear, Tim’s Pasty Butt, Rob Roy the Sad Sack, the Cuckold Operative, President Slingblade, Bend It Like Boredom, the first Hugh Grant role where I didn’t want to punch him in the groin, Jack Bauer’s ditzy daughter, the rocky Sybil Trelawney/Severus Snape marriage, Edmund Jewelryclerk, and the One-Stop Chick Flick Shop.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

England, 2003, the day after Thanksgiving which the British do not celebrate but should because turkey is tasty. It’s five weeks until X-mas and a randomized sample of London residents are undergoing trials and tribulations of the romantic kind. But the sample doesn’t seem so randomized after all as almost everyone is linked to one another. First, you have the newly elected and hopelessly handsome Prime Minister (Hugh Grant) whose hots for his curvy caterer Natalie (Martine McCutcheon) grants him the cahones to stand up to those jerk Americans and their lecherous President (Billy Bob Thornton). His sister Karen is undergoing marital issues with husband Harry (Alan Rickman) who might be cheating on her. Their friend Daniel (Liam Neeson) recently lost his wife, has the hots for walking stick Claudia Schiffer, and has a depressed step son who has the eleven-year-old hots for a golden-voiced classmate. Harry’s employee Sarah (Laura Linney) has the hopeless hots for Harry’s hunky partner Karl (Rodrigo Santoro) but she’s got a tragic burden that’s preventing her to commit her hots. Sarah attended the wedding of Peter (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Juliet (Keira Knightley) which was planned by best friend Mark (Andrew Lincoln) who has the hots for one of them and is tortured by this secret desire. Peter and Juliet’s hors d'œuvre were served by stinky smart ass Colin (Kris Marshall) who’s saving up money to move to America, the land of milk, honey, and hot and cold running ass. Also in attendance at the wedding was mystery writer Jamie (Colin Firth) who was recently jilted and sent to Portugal to finish writing his novel and fall in love with feisty housemaid Aurelia (Lucia Moniz) who are separated by culture, geography, and a language barrier. And revolving around this entire trauma is washed-up pop singer Billy Mack (Bill Nighy) who’s trying to make a comeback with his X-mas pop ditty, lay off the heroin, and keep his pants on national TV. But X-mas Eve is a time for miracles, and somehow everyone will get what they want, some in happy ways, some in tragic ways, and some in horny ways, because love actually is wonderful, miserable, and slimey.

THE FINISHER:

Love Actually proves that there’s no love like movie love, and the film tops all previous lovey-dovey movies by playing out like the ultimate iPod romantic comedy playlist. Although this multi-layered ensemble often feels like a string of coming soon movie trailers, the film is well-supported by a charming cast and a frequently humorous and touching script. Writer-Director Richard Curtis (Notting Hill, Four Weddings and a Funeral) takes some of the most well-known and esteemed acting talent and structures a series of situations complicated by love in various ways, links them all together however haphazardly, and brings them all together in the end, all the while balancing a light, affecting, and funny tone. The cast is exceptional, with Nighy being the stand-out and his hysterical portrayal of a reformed druggie rock star. Grant, Thompson, Firth, Rickman, and Neeson are also typically great, but it’s cutey-pie McCutcheon, the always reliable Rowan Atkinson as a store clerk, Neeson’s kid whose name I forgot, and the wonderful Moniz who share some fine scene-stealing. Though the movie at times seems a little forced and overly sentimental, these moments of tragic circumstance are thankfully few and are interrupted by moments of laugh out loud hilarity. What emerges is not a simple treatise of love life, but a bare exposure of the romantic comedy genre and its lack of depth but powerful ability to evoke. Love Actually has much warmth, laughs and feel-good appeal coming out the ying-yang and its shameless, irresistible romanticism will have you running for the hankies.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

ELLA ENCHANTED (2004)

CHICK FLICK FANTASY TIP: Never sass your ghetto fairy Godmother.

THE CARD:

A porcelain princess that’s not my crapper, an enchanted rack, Black Prince Down, a sober Patsy, a silly sarcastic talking book not written by Ann Coulter, a litigious elf, Shrek the Cannibal, Westley all grown up and evil, a slithery posthumous jab at Charlton Heston, a sassy Fairy Godmomma, and Nudge-Nudge Wink-Wink the Narrator.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Ella (Anne Hathaway) got jipped. Born in the village of Frell in a mystical kingdom, she was unfortunate enough to inherit feisty Lucinda (Vivica Fox) as her half-assed fairy godmother. Upon Ella’s birth, Lucinda cast a spell on her to become a perfect, obedient child. That is, Ella must stop whatever she is doing and is forced to obey any command. As you can imagine, the spell becomes a curse, but Ella grows to become a strong young girl with the will to do good and change the injustices she sees in the kingdom. But when she gains an evil stepmother (Joanna Lumley) and snotty stepsisters Hattie (Lucy Punch) and Olive (Jennifer Higham), her life becomes a torturous fairy tale cliché. Obsessed with the handsome king-to-be Prince Char (Hugh Dancy), Hattie is determined with win him over and become queen and when she learns of Ella’s curse, she commands her to do her will, give up her jewelry, steal from the local merchants, and end all her friendships. Meanwhile, the evil Prince Regent Uncle Edgar (Cary Elwes) and his vile talking snake Heston (Steve Coogan) plots to dispose of Char and continue his reign of enslaving giants, killing ogres, and forcing elves to sing and dance. Frustrated and fed-up, busty Ella is persuaded by house fairy and novice sorceress Mandy (Minnie Driver) to hit the road and seek out Lucinda to get the curse lifted. With the aid of a talking book (Jimi Mistry) and reluctant lawyer-wannbe elf Slannen (Aidan McArdle), she sets out in the wild looking for an end to the spell. Along the way she meets Prince Char and the two verbally spar, kick ogre butt crack, sing and dance giant karaoke, and yeah, fall in love. But the treacherous Edgar, upon learning of Ella’s condition, tricks her into plotting Char’s murder, but with the help of her wacky crew of disenfranchised misfits, Lucinda’s alcoholism, the spirit of her dead mother, ninja fighting moves, and her glorious boobs, Ella may just find the strength within her to end the non-monthly curse, score a castle, and win over a handsome dope.

THE FINISHER:

Ella Enchanted is an exuberant twist on the familiar fairytale: a young girl overcomes tremendous challenges to find herself and land the man of her dreams. The retelling of this storybook tale owes much to the recent slate of older-child to young adult fantasy fare such as Stardust, Ever After, Shrek, and A Knight’s Tale. And while the fun-loving spirit, current cultural references, and terrible pop music coupled with fantasy critters and caricatures is present and often chuckle-worthy, there is a lack of character development and effort into fully realizing the mythical place of Ella’s adventures. Also problematic is the character of Ella herself. She is introduced as a strong principled woman whose beliefs often land her in hot water (literally) and who despite her curse opposes the segregation and exploitation in the kingdom and stands up for the little guy (literally). But these strong character traits are undermined by the romantic subplot in which she gives in to the dashing ways of the well-meaning but brutally formulaic regal boy toy. But lifting these otherwise fatal flaws is the energetic, luminous presence of Hathaway. I can’t imagine that those puppy dog eyes, fully blossomed lips, and gossamer skin could not melt even the hardest or most fruity hearts of filmgoers. On second thought, maybe I should see some recent Hathaway before committing to that notion. Nonetheless, Ella Enchanted will still find love with its targeted audience who love the pop-song covers, slapped-together romance, Jewy elves, plumber’s crack ogres, silly dance numbers, and ludicrous wire-fighting scenes. It has just enough wit and charm to make it watchable and recommendable enough for that mall-obsessed, self-conscious, disobedient brat in your life.

Friday, February 13, 2009

THEN SHE FOUND ME (2007)

CHICK FLICK AGING TIP: Life begins at forty, if you are from Ork.

THE CARD:
Mad About Jew, Bridget Jones’ Whipping Boy, Ferris Bueller 2000, middlin’ Midler, Dr. Great Satan, the Rugrat Race, awkward dry humping, Steve F’N McQueen, and aging, orc-ish Helen Hunt and her Middle Earth crisis.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

April (Helen Hunt) is running out of time in pursuit of a ticking time bomb. No, she’s not an exasperated 24 regular, she’s a 39-year-old preschool teacher who desperately wants to have a 40 metric ton carbon footprint (i.e. baby). Her Jewish Mom (Lynn Cohen) and brother Fred (Ben Shenkman) pressure her to adopt, but April has always wanted a child of her own, especially since she is adopted and never knew her biological parents. To make matters worse, she’s married to immature dullard Ben (Matthew Broderick) who’s emotionally crippled in a passionless marriage. April’s life gets even more complicated when her adoptive mother dies, Ben leaves her, and she discovers that her biological mother is New York daytime talk show host Bernice Graves (Bette Midler). Filled with mistrust and suspicion, April eventually warms up to brash and irritating Bernice, but when lies start to surface about why she was given up for adoption, she rejects her. Sullen and hopeless, April finds comfort in the company of one of her student’s fathers, Frank (Colin Firth), an eccentric and recently divorced book jacket writer. Frank’s ex-wife walked out on him and the kids and since then he has allowed his anger to fester and manifest itself in quirky behavior that April finds charming. Despite the ethical wrongness of dating one of her student’s parents, April gives in to her desire and they fall in love. But when she finds out she’s pregnant with nincompoop Ben’s child, things again get very complicated. Bernice again enters her life, Ben returns with a renewed desire, Frank turns into a pissy jerk, and April gets her belly probed by pediatrician Salman Rushdie. Yup, f&*^ing Salman Rushdie. And in the process of learning to love, trust, and become a mother, skinny April discovers herself and looks like she could really use a schmeared bagel or twenty.

THE FINISHER:

Helen Hunt went MIA after that silly Mel Gibson comedy What Women Want, and even though that film was brutal, it looked as if she was on her way to becoming a better established, bigger star. But, in the years since, she’s been scarcely seen, and so her directorial debut Then She Found Me feels like a comeback of sorts. Based on a novel by Elinor Lipman, this light comedy has an undercurrent of misery and pain beneath its deceiving rom-com surface. Although it takes a while and some investment, the movie reels you in unrelentingly. April’s ordeal is hideously painful and yet we are strapped in for the ride. Her choices are hysterically misguided and yet we are unable to help her. She looks like she could use about fifty salami sandwiches yet all we can do is mourn for cheery, cherubic Helen from years past who really needs to go up a dress size. After an unsteady beginning, the movie picks up steam and the nice chemistry between Hunt and Firth counterpoints the awkward pairing of Hunt and Midler. But maybe it’s just Midler being Midler that upsets the balance in these kinds of weepy things, and you just have to be a Midler fan to appreciate it. This non-Midler fan took a while to warm up to her, and when it does happen, it’s a mild surprise. Hunt’s direction is sensitive and polished as, being an actress, she understands the need to fully explore and get to know the characters before they are subjected to the twists and turns of the narrative. That’s not to say the movie is all doom and gloom. Yes, these are tremendously sad characters caught in embarrassing and tragic circumstances, but it’s the demonstrated strength of their character to overcome this melancholy that makes for solid story. The movie is well-written and almost has an improvised feel to it due mostly to the natural talents of the cast. Then She Found Me is funny, emotional, and restrained, despite the schmaltzy circumstances that bring the characters together and a super-sappy, but poignant ending. I swear that if you don’t squirt at least one tear at the end, you are an inhuman monster. I will refrain from a Midler joke here.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

THE NOTEBOOK (2004)

CHICK FLICK DATING TIP: Gents, the best place to meet women is your local Old Folks Home, where every date is a new date, thanks to Alzheimer’s.

THE CARD:

Old fogey Maverick, a bewildered Gloria, a Smitten Hobo, Not-Michelle-Monaghan, Snidely Whiplash the Evil Daddy, The Contender of Crabby Moms, Casanova Cyclops, the Cassavettes grave-stomper, that little dude who’s not Turtle from that HBO show that everyone loves for some Godforsaken reason, airport author Sparks, and the Trapper Keeper of Love.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

The present. Duke (James Garner) is a resident in a rest home who reads a love story to an Alzheimer’s patient (Gena Rowlands) everyday. Her memory has eroded due to her debilitating disease, and Dukes does his best to keep her company in the hope that she may one day regain her composure. The story is a romance about two star-crossed lovers from two different worlds set in the 1940s. Allie (Rachel McAdams) and Noah (Ryan Gosling) have shared a lifetime of turmoil and devotion in their short courtship. Their small town love story is one fraught with heartache and passion as Allie comes from a world of money and privilege, while dirt-poor Noah doesn’t have two pennies to buy a two-penny pot to piss in. But despite their tax brackets, the relationship is steamy and volatile, the very stuff of gushy hayseed romance. Allie’s society-conscious parents (David Thornton and Joan Allen) break up the hot and heavy pairing and Allie is shipped off to college while Noah joins the Army. He writes to Allie everyday, but treacherous Mom keeps the letters away from her while Dad twirls his ridiculous mustache and laughs maniacally. Allie moves to New York and meets debonair Lon (James Marsden) and falls madly in love. When Noah returns from the war, he restores a lakeside mansion after selling the family home and getting a G.I. loan, something he promised to do for Allie when they were together. But it looks as if Allie has moved on and Noah plunges into a world of despair, depression, and carpentry. But fate brings the two together again, and a heart-breaking choice will need to be made. There are boo-hoos a plenty as we discover that the patient is Allie, all old and befuddled, and Duke is the old Noah reading from a notebook written by Allie so that she will never forget their lifetime of love. And you will see the ending coming like an army of pink-assed baboons screeching Zippity-Doo-Dah in Easter bonnets and Paul Gautier feather skirts down Park Avenue.

THE FINISHER:

Nicholas Sparks is one of those authors I’ve heard about, but don’t really know, who is either loved or hated, and whose overpriced hardcovers line every shelf of airport gift shops only to wind up on the 75% off bin three weeks later. And yet the guy keeps writing lousy books (Message in a Bottle) which keep getting made into lousy movies (Message in a Bottle). The Notebook is another butt-sappy, boring as a bag of roof tiles, ruthlessly manipulative tearjerker carefully engineered for the dullard Sparks fan who might be intimidated by the latest Mitch Albom drivel. Here you have your standard boy-meets-girl -loses-girl-regains-girl- marries-girl- loses-memory- curls-up-and-dies concept complete with sweeping music, cookie-cutter supporting cast, syrupy nostalgia, and tragic but uplifting ending about characters I couldn’t care less about. Actually, if I hadn’t nodded off here and there, I probably would have cared less. Gosling is a current indie film idol ready to break out into the mainstream and was wonderful in Lars and the Real Girl and Half Nelson. But here, his puppy-dog eyes and scruffy, whiney, childish antics made it very difficult to believe he’d grow into Jim Rockford, let alone land someone like McAdams/Rowlands. Speaking of which, McAdams was full of life as Allie, and perhaps presented the most effective performance of the cast. She is wry and energetic and her pouty and conflicted portrayal brought the only level of interest to the story. Viewers have spoken of this movie’s power to capture you despite its calculated maudlin patronizing, something which you can probably attribute to the impressive casting. But no, that didn’t happen with me. I saw a couple of old geezers reminiscing about the past and preparing for the end, while the two Nicks (Sparks and director Cassavettes) desperately attempt to eke out a multiplex of lumpy throats by placing the bucket squarely in front of feet for which to kick it. Jeez, why didn’t they throw in a dead puppy, a dying TV clown, and a bored-as-hell masked movie blogger for good measure?

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

MERMAIDS (1990)

CHICK FLICK ETIQUETTE TIP: Ladies, when losing your virginity, be sure your little sister isn’t sauced.

THE CARD:

A cheerless Cher, Winnie Sticky Fingers, Sunday School Wednesday, poon-struck Eddie Valiant, a mopey Jake Ryan, chugga-boots, Quark the Auteur, a toe-tappin’ soundtrack, and the baffling absence of Aquaman.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

1963. Mrs. Flax (Cher) is a single mother who drags her confused teen daughter Charlotte (Winona Ryder) and talented swimmer daughter Kate (Christina Ricci) from town to town after a string of failed relationships to avoid the stigma of being labeled the town slut. Mrs. Flax is a clever baker of fun-shaped pastries and cakes, but she never uses this God-given talent to pursue a career or open a shop. She just hops from menial job to menial job, hoping to find a man and maybe a little fun. Unfortunately, this strategy hasn’t worked out well as she consistently finds unavailable or hopeless men. Miserable Charlotte rebels against Mom and her Jewish heritage and becomes obsessed with becoming a Catholic nun, complete with riddled guilt. Equally obsessed is adorable Kate and her penchant for swimming and holding her breath underwater for long periods of time. Mrs. Flax and Charlotte share a volatile relationship stemming from the loss of Char’s father, Mom’s uncommunicative and abrasive nature, and their unstable home life. Things start to change when they arrive in a Massachusetts town and meet good-natured and recently divorced Lou (Bob Hoskins) who takes a shine to Mrs. Flax. The two develop a fun relationship but Mrs. Flax gets claustrophobic when Lou gets too chummy with the kids. Charlotte’s sexuality is awakened by the depressed but brawny Joe (Michael Schoeffling), the town’s school bus driver and recently jilted hunk. Char is immensely conflicted over her lustful thoughts, ill-informed conceptions of the church, and her relationship with her mother. On the surface, Mrs. Flax is a fun-loving broad who likes a good time, but if one looks deeper, you’ll discover that her hands-off approach to parenting lays the groundwork for Charlotte’s inevitable emotional collapse. But that doesn’t stop the gang from dancing in the kitchen to Jimmy Soul, munching on star sandwiches, and getting it on in church steeples. Eventually, Mrs. Flax will have to talk to Charlotte. Charlotte will have to give in to her feelings for Joe. Lou will have to deal with the fact that commitment to Mrs. Flax will be an uphill battle. And Kate will have to sit around, look sweet, and wait for the Addams Family call-back.

THE FINISHER:

I felt a lot of tense uneasiness when I first threw Mermaids into the DVD player. I had heard that the film was an average and super-sappy chick flick drenched in facile sentimentality with a slapped-together tragic ending and an irritating turn by Cher. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that my apprehension was uncalled for, as the movie was pretty good. Yes, good. I hereby turn in my Manly-Man Movie Reviewer membership card. So sue me. I am not a fan of Cher but she looked great in the picture - hell, almost flawless. I had never seen her fill out a dress before or since and these newfound curves were very much appreciated. Bringing in some of her Cher traits, her Mrs. Flax was believable and personable, in the sense that despite her brashness, it would be possible to grow to like her in the real world. She is one of those rare talents who can fuse her real persona with that of the character and not skip a beat. And with all the recent gossip about Ryder and her recent forgettable and ill-chosen roles clouding my judgment, I had forgotten how good of an actress she used to be. She is fantastic and energetic as Charlotte, a bewildered young woman struggling with her biological urges and resistance to her mother’s questionable morality. Similarly wonderful is Hoskins as the down-to-earth actualizer of normality and Ricci as the lovable Kate. Director Richard Benjamin (where the hell did he go?) does a fine job recreating an idyllic small town atmosphere that, however alien or clichéd, used to exist somewhere at some time but is no more. Mermaids does not plumb any new depths about mother-daughter relationships or fishes for insights about the disintegration of the American family. It is simply enjoyable to watch, reason enough to pop it in the DVD player without worry.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

MADE OF HONOR (2008)

CHICK FLICK DATING TIP: You know your rich, hunky guy friend, the one who only hangs with you to brag about his hyperactive sex life, demean your womanhood at every turn, and taunt your sexless existence? Yeah, he’s totally into you.

THE CARD:

Platonic friendship through attempted rape, dumb-dumbs doing dim sum, men's bullshit theories about women, women's bullshit theories about men, Not-Rachel-McAdams, Lucius Vorenus McJourneyman, poor, poor Sydney Pollack, Lt. Howard Hunter the Wacky Priest, Dwayne Cleophus Wayne the Minority Friend, geekless but not freakless Kim Kelly, Ben-Wa Ball Necklaces, and Can’t Buy Me a Decent Script.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

McSqueezy (Patrick Dempsey) is a hard-bodied stud who invented the little cardboard thingy wrapped around cups that wimps use at coffee shops to keep their sensitive fingers from burning. He makes a fortune from his invention, drives a fancy car, and is banging his way through the Manhattan telephone directory. McPukey’s best friend is art nerd Hannah (Michelle Monaghan) who he met under embarrassing circumstances during their college days at Cornell. Basically, he almost raped her. Yeah. Anyway, years later, the pair shares a fun-loving but platonic relationship in which McSquelchy spouts his insipid dating rules, shops for antiques, frowns about his serial-marrying Dad (Sydney Pollack) and smirks for the camera. But their relationship is purely platonic as the commitment-phobic McCheesey enjoys her company because he is spared the pressure of obligation, monogamy, and being a man. Hannah feels otherwise, wishing for something more from the rascally McChump. When Hannah’s job sends her to Scotland for a three-weeks, McScreechy feels the pain of her absence and seeks solaces in his privileged burden-less, do-nothing, horrible life of sitting around, looking striking, playing basketball with dorks, and nailing secretaries. Oh weep for McSqueezy! He finally reaches the conclusion that he loves Hannah and plans to declare his feelings to her, but things get complicated when she returns to New York with dashing dumb-as-rocks noble Scotsman Colin (Jason McKidd) whom is now engaged to and plans to marry very soon. To top-off McSquishy’s agony and snip off what’s left of his ego, Hannah asks him to be her Maid of Honor. McStupid agrees and trains himself in the ways of the Maid of Honor and all the dopey duties that the marriage industry decrees must be done and what must be purchased at outrageous prices. He and his pals concoct an elaborate plan to win Hannah over from her big-weenied hubby-to-be, but he first must contend with the pitfalls of wedding planning, eating haggis, a drafty kilt, and the vile Melissa (Busy Phillips), Hannah’s jealous and vengeful sister who has a past with McStiffy. And McDreamy will have to prove himself to be a better man than Groundskeeper Willy if he is to avoid becoming McDumpy.

THE FINISHER:

The appeal of Patrick Dempsey is a mystery to me, even more so since his recent resurgence on that inane sexy hospital show. My opinion is hopelessly clouded by what I remember from the Patrick Dempsey of twenty years ago. Too good looking to be a nerd and too ugly to be a leading man, Dempsey was relegated as a Brat Packer outsider consigned to the dopey teen comedy, namely Can’t Buy Me Love and the unholy Loverboy. Other than a turn as Meyer Lansky in the atrocious Mobsters, Dempsey is mostly regarded as a forgettable teen star of pimply 80s drive-in fare. Plus, the dude is butt-ugly. I don’t see what women are swooning over in this new McDreamy schtick. He looks like a garden gnome.

So despite the baffling attraction toward Dempsey, I will say that he is a capable actor, fitted with the all the banal qualities to be a believable romantic lead in a silly comedy. And it doesn’t get any more banal or silly than romantic comedy Made for Honor, a misnomer of a movie that is neither dreamy nor funny. The story is about as fresh as last Friday’s fish fillets left out of the fridge, but the screen pairing of Dempsey and Monaghan works fairly well despite the ho-hum script. The reverse-role aspect of the movie is rarely touched upon, wasted only for a few lame gender-bending jokes and wacky pratfalls. And the movie has no qualms about totally insulting the Scottish people, their love of skirts, irritating music, and sheep stomach eating. For shame! The movie is littered with cheap jokes, dull characters, and clichéd dildo humor that made me question my honor towards my beloved Cinema. One standout, however, is the enormously cute Monaghan who delivers a delightful performance. She is smart and funny and rises above the well-trodden territory of the romantic comedy the movie stomps all over. And it’s apparent at times that the filmmakers were striving for nostalgic feel to the film, something familiar and old-fashioned from an era long gone.

Kind of like medieval torture.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

BRIEF ENCOUNTER (1946)

CHICK FLICK MARRIAGE TIP: When recounting your illicit love affair in first-person voiceover narration, be sure your husband isn’t in the room and listening.

THE CARD:

A lonely Brit housewife, a lonely non-time-traveling doctor, the dank train station of love, sugar in the spoon, proof that bad movies bring people together, Lean’s intimate epic, the second best Howard/Johnson, and excellent candidates for the Big Book of British Smiles.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

England, late 1930s. Laura (Celia Johnson) is a British housewife with two precocious kids, an officious husband, and a humdrum life. She spends her Thursdays catching a train to do the shopping in a town called Milford. And at the end of each Thursday, she stops by a quaint café at the train station for a cup of tea before her train arrives. One fateful day, she gets dirt stuck in her eye and asks for assistance in the café. Helpful doctor Alec (Trevor Howard) restores her vision and the two exchange pleasantries. Over the next few weeks, Laura and Alec run into each other, have lunch, and spend the afternoon at the cinema (what you uncouth Americans call “the movies”). They continue their rendezvous and get to know one another by walking in the park, renting a canoe on the lake, and watching terrible movies. Eventually, we discover that the pair are both in unfulfilling marriages, are desperately lonely, and have fallen passionately in love. But Brit manners, stiff-upper lips, and all that lot will prevent them from realizing their passion in public or in a sordid bedroom of any type. Regardless, they continue their regular Thursday get-togethers, try to keep their secret from Laura’s gossipy friends and Alec’s holier-than-thou colleagues, and avoid thinking about the inevitable doom their relationship faces. But one of them will have to make a fateful decision, whether to abandon their dreary lives and begin anew, to continue their sordid encounters, or to never see one another again. And by the end of this story, you will feel Laura and Alec’s pain as none of these choices offer relief from complete devastation.

THE FINISHER:

David Lean is the undisputed master of the sprawling epic movie. His films Lawrence of Arabia and Passage to India explore the vast landscape and visual splendor of the natural world and the drama that can be found within it. Based on a one-act play by Noel Coward, Lean’s Brief Encounter explores landscapes of a different kind, that of human needs and the turmoil of life’s emotional choices. The movie is intensely romantic, revealing the aspect of love that most romantic movies tend to avoid - that love is sometimes miserable, often painful, and really sucks. That’s not to say that the movie is unpleasant or depressing. The Laura and Alec characters find true adoration for one another and in exploring that feeling we are treated to watching it grow, despite the social formalities, family burdens, and the suffocating nature of societal expectations. And the historical setting of the film is not without significance. In the late 30s, England was still getting over the tumult of the First World War and this environment allowed these people to not only celebrate their freedom, but also question their roles in society in the pursuit of that freedom. But when reality sets in, when the grimness of familial obligation reveals itself, and when guilt and morality turns its ugly head in affairs of the heart, there is no painless decision. And the movie drives this point down to the last second. The flashback structure with narration by Johnson is effective as the audience is brought into Laura’s world with soul-crushing intimacy. Both principals are excellent, the stark cinematography is gorgeous, and the script is brilliant. I mean, you got Noel freakin’ Coward and David Lean, two British masters. Sheesh. Brief Encounter brings two worlds together. One, a wonderful place where love blossoms in the most common of places under the most ordinary of circumstances. And two, the world of reality where there are no Hollywood endings and no walks into the sunset, hand in hand. But in the time where hope promises such a walk, at least you felt something remarkable, something life-affirming, and something genuine, if all too brief.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

EVER AFTER (1998)

CHICK FLICK ETIQUETTE TIP: When visiting the King and Queen’s palace, be careful not to drink out of the footwear.

THE CARD:

Gertie’s heaving cleavage, Fairy Tale Land’s Amnesty International, Truman Capote the Spy, the cuter Beautiful Creature, Baldy McEvil, even gayer tennis, Leonardo di Crotchety, recent graduates of the School of Fake Accents and Bippity Bobitty Boo-Hoo.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

The Brothers Grimm are summoned to the palace of the Grande Dame (Jeanne Moreau) where they are praised for their story “Cinderella” which has delighted the people and the Dame herself. But she is dissatisfied with some of the details, claims the story is no mere fairy tale, and clues the brothers in on the real story of the woman who inspired the legend. Oh, and she’s French. Danielle (Drew Barrymore) loves her father (Jeroen Krabbe) very much and he loves her even more. That’s why he goes out and marries broke upper-class bitch Baroness Rodmilla (Angelica Huston) and adopts her precocious daughters Marguerite (Megan Dodd) and Jacqueline (Melanie Lynskey). But Pappy’s ticker gives out and he kicks the medieval bucket on the front lawn, leaving poor Danielle to fend for herself against her mean ol’ Stepma. She becomes a servant to her shrewish family but develops a strong character in the process. She cares intensely for her father’s house and land, she defends her fellow servants, and she’s strong as an ox. Meanwhile, Prince Henry (Dougray Scott) defies his father King Francis (Timothy West) and goes about pouncing across the countryside, dishonoring his title and Dad’s wishes for marrying him into the Spanish royal family. He runs into Danielle after being mistaken for a thief and gets rung on the head by one of her apple knuckleballs. Later, when one of the servants is sold to the king, Danielle rushes to his aid, posing as a French aristocrat. She again encounters Henry, who releases the servant and is further piqued by Danielle’s forceful charm. The court is preparing a party for the arrival of Leonardo Da Vinci (Patrick Godfrey) who has sold his Mona Lisa to the King. And Rodmilla has a sinister plan to seduce Henry into seeking the affections of the vain and hateful Marguerite. But Henry is clearly fascinated with Danielle who he believes to be of noble blood, but all Danielle wants is to protect her servant friends and father’s legacy and make the world a better place. Rodmilla plots and schemes, Da Vinci walks on water, un-evil stepsister Jacqueline chooses a side, and the quarreling pair of Danielle and Henry romance-off and face down gypsies, leading to that inevitable royal dance where secrets will be revealed, shoes will be lost, and E.T. will phone home. Oh wait…

THE FINISHER:

Ever After is an entertaining retelling of the Cinderella story in a more but not wholly realistic setting. Here Cinderelly is portrayed as a thoughtful, intelligent, and strong activist who finds love through friction but never backs down on her convictions, even without the aid of talking mice, octogenarian wood spirits, or vehicles made of fruit. (A pumpkin is a fruit, right?). Thankfully the movie isn’t as mushy as it could have been, thanks to a good script and solid performances by Barrymore and Huston. But I can’t fully recommend the movie if you can’t stand more than ten minutes of Drew pouting and acting tough. This is definitely a treat for fans and those with strong stomachs for what a movie studio thinks is feminist fairy tale retelling. But the accents… Good Lord. Huston is deliciously vicious as the evil stepmother, bringing forth a well-rounded realization of the character never before seen. Her animosity and resentment towards Danielle is explored in depth, something which the original story probably lacks. Scott as Prince Henry is dutifully adequate, but the two stand-out supporting characters were Godfrey as the bumbling but sagely Da Vinci and the awfully cute Lynskey as Jacqueline who supplies more than her fair share of laughs. Director Andy Tennant, maker of multiple chick flicks including Hitch, Sweet Home Alabama, and Fool’s Gold, crafts a socially relevant modern fairy tale, infuses it with wit and light-hearted appeal, and wisely avoids an abundance of treacle. The film is well-paced and beautifully photographed, and features interesting twists on the original story without altering the spirit of the source material. Ever After is undeniably charming, and will resonate with women and young girls around the world for ages, but stubborn dudes who thought Charlie’s Angels was Barrymore’s magnum opus may want to avoid it ever after.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

GIRLS JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN (1985)

CHICK FLICK DATING TIP: Guys, girls just want to have fun, vandalize, and burn dogs.

THE CARD:

Mini-Carrie carrying on, a 25-year-old teen Helen Hunt, Pre-Bernie Silverman, Not-Quite-Joey-Lawrence, OH-MY-GOD-IT’S -RICHARD-BLADE-LOOKING-TWELVE, Chicago by way of Reseda, pre-zip code Shannon Dougherty, Blechs in the City, and where’s Denny Terrio when you need him?

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Janey (Sarah Jessica Parker) is a fun-loving teen with a tough militant Dad (Ed Lauter) who has recently moved the family to Chicago, land of deep dish pizza, wind, hope spewing presidents, and DTV, the hottest dance show on television. Basically, it’s Soul Train for Whitey. On her first day at a new Catholic school, Janey befriends free-spirited Lynne (Helen Hunt), a rebellious boy-crazy girl who messes with the nuns, wears leather skirts, looks 30, and shares a love for DTV as well. Their beloved show announces a contest for new cast members and Janey and Lynne wild with glee and jump at the chance to be on the program. Meanwhile, crafty teen Jew Drew (Jonathan Silverman) talks his buff toe-tapping pal Jeff (Lee Montgomery) into entering the contest, much to the ridicule of flat-chested little sister Maggie (Shannon Dougherty). But trouble brews. Janey’s strict father doesn’t approve of her dancing and milling about with strange boys on fruity TV shows. Plus the girls have to contend with evil rich brunette Natalie (Holly Gagnier) who plans to pay off the judges and cheat her way onto the show. But the pursuit of fun will prevail as our kooky gals thwart evil bitch Natalie, employ commando tactics to escape their grounding, and abuse animals. I mean, they abuse animals in inhuman, horrific, and unconscionable ways. So sad. Anyway, Janey and Jeff, who comes close to out-Kevin Baconing himself in a few routines, are paired up but their personalities clash, and Natalie’s vile, underhanded, and sexy schemes threaten their chance to be on the show. But the power of dance, love, and regional syndication will overcome any obstacle, at the cost of Cyndi Lauper one day rolling in her grave over this one.

THE FINISHER:

Leg warmers. Jellies. Tear-away Velcro sleeves. Break dancing. Gigantic hair. Cheek glitter.

These are just a few of the reasons why the 80s will never be forgotten. Kinda like genital warts. Girls Just Want to Have Fun will not share the same fate as these icons of an era long gone. It’s a forgettable movie that appears to be a slapped-together comedy meant to capitalize on the titular Lauper song. I just finished watching it a few minutes ago and I swear I can’t remember anything past the awful Solid Gold parody and Hunt’s fairly decent gams. OK, let me lean back. I’m concentrating. It’s all coming back now. Except in the parts where there’s obviously a double, Parker displays some nice dancing moves and the movie is dominated by endless scenes of people dancing. Hunt is perky and bright as Lynne, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I was watching Helen Hunt playing a teen rather than teen Helen Hunt. I mean, the woman was born 30. The flick is pretty much formulaic stuff, with repressed Janey letting loose when she is enabled by slutty Lynne, meets studly Jeff, and revolts against her uptight parents. Evil chick Natalie isn’t given much to do but be evil and one-dimensional, not that I was expecting Mrs. Danvers, but come on. And slutty Lynne gets to act wacky and attempt to kill dogs. Did I mention they harm animals in this thing? Jeez. In addition to animal abuse, there’s the aural abuse of the cheesey synthesizer soundtrack and a hilariously lame cover of the title song. On the plus side, we get to see a pre-90210 Dougherty before the wickedness of Aaron Spelling consumed her soul. She looked so adorable in this movie with her little overalls, cherubic cheeks, and non-demonic persona. Which reminds me: acid washed jeans. When will we see those come back? Probably the next time I watch a film based on a 80s pop song.