For the first hour, the southern drama “Bloodworth” captures a perfectly compelling tone of discovery, approaching solemn incidents of domestic disturbance with a countrified stillness. Criminally, the final 30 minutes erase most positive feelings about the feature, with concentration lost to the demands of a complicated literary translation. It’s an interesting picture, teeming with inspired performances and intriguing developments, but it’s a viewing experience best left unfinished.
The producers blew a major opportunity when they decided to turn “Immigration Tango” into a feature film. A concept more suited for a sitcom translation, the movie rushes through unrelenting mediocrity, hoping to captivate with its tepid comedy and chilly romance, making an inert farce without the benefit of a laugh track. It would’ve been right at home on network television.
When Martin Scorsese’s filmography is explored, there are typically two efforts that define his oeuvre: 1976’s “Taxi Driver” and 1980’s “Raging Bull.” However, during this fertile creative period there was another picture, sandwiched in-between, a 1977 feature that effectively stalled and oddly reenergized Scorsese’s career. “New York, New York” isn’t a forgotten or lost picture, but one that’s rarely brought up when a discussion of the maestro is introduced. A shame, really. While it’s flawed and fattened, it’s one of Scorsese’s more appealing experiments, looking to resuscitate the traditional Hollywood musical within the raw mood of the 1970s, creating an unusually frosty, but pleasingly unpredictable candy-coated psychodrama.
I’ll freely admit that I have a sensitivity to movies set in the Midwest, a place I called home for the majority of my life. To most Hollywood productions, the Midwest is an alien landscape for hopelessly naïve folk going about their naïve business while the coasts take care of the culture and style for America. That’s not the Midwest I know. I shouldn’t take “Cedar Rapids” seriously as an incisive take on “flyover” country ethics, but the least this tepid comedy could do is provide a vibrant sense of humor. Instead, it’s a riff-heavy, wildly formulaic modern comedy that uses stereotypes and improvisations in a gentle, but tedious manner to bring the laughs.
Never one to leave a Hollywood trend alone, producer Roger Corman decided to assemble his own “Star Wars” space opera cash machine with “Battle Beyond the Stars,” a low-budget (of course) take on Lucasian matinee mayhem. The results are predictably formulaic, but never cynical, with Corman and his team of filmmakers creating a sincere, engaging sci-fi spectacle that makes a lovely ruckus, though it lacks a cracking pace that helped shape “Star Wars” into a legend.
“Ceremony” is a film that thrives on chaos, refusing to establish characters or situations before it tosses the viewer into the thick of discomfort. The disorientation is irksome, but so is much of this exhausting picture, which seems to value secrecy as a way of initiating interest, yet doesn’t offer anything worth the time invested, issuing derivative characters and tuneless situations of longing coated with an ineffective layer of crooked whimsy that often acts like salt in the wound.
There have been many deep-sea documentaries, but rarely is there one narrated by a turtle. “Ocean Wonderland” is a 2003 IMAX release that employs a whimsical storytelling method to pull viewers in tightly, observing a big blue community through the eyes of its most passive resident. Considering the agreeable but formulaic structure of the picture, any sort of unusual deviation from the norm is most welcome.
I’m honestly baffled by “Beastly” and I’m not sure if it’s just my personal reaction to this brain-dead feature or if there’s something genuinely crooked about its assembly. I walked away from the film with a host of questions, as far away from the state of swoon the producers intended as possible. It’s a cold, often unbearably illogical film, but I almost need to recommend it just for the opportunity to read varied reactions from viewers. Surely, I’m not crazy, yet “Beastly” made me feel disconnected from reality, and not in an enchantingly escapist manner.
In 1995, after years in supporting roles and working his way to fame on “Saturday Night Live,” Adam Sandler was ready for his own starring vehicle. His first offering, “Billy Madison,” is many things, often labeled crude, dopey, and obnoxious — all true. However, the feature is also 100% Sandler, boldly unleashing his specialized sense of humor in a high concept comedy that proudly marches to its own beat. It’s easy to dismiss the picture as unsophisticated twaddle, but doing so misses the point of Sandler’s unique grasp on goofballery, with “Billy Madison” gifting the future superstar his first open field to run around and get dizzy within.
To explain “Rubber” in full virtually guarantees turning off potential audiences to this bizarre French comedy. It’s a furious run of absurdity that toys with perspective and convention, exploring the relationship between spectators and entertainment while staging an adventure rooted in the film’s strict “no reason” policy, as explained in the opening moments. Oh, and it features a tire that comes to life, rolling around the American southwest on a killing spree using its telekinetic powers. Have I already written too much?
There’s nothing in “Kill the Irishman” that you haven’t seen before. It’s a clichéd offering of criminal worship, even cast with squad of recognizable character actors who’ve all logged plenty of hours in the genre. However, there’s a certain clenched-fist tonality to the picture that helps it wade through routine, and it’s nice to see the city of Cleveland used for change when detailing the horrors and intimidation of mob rule, giving New York City and Las Vegas the day off.
Has it really been nearly a decade since “Blue Crush” paddled into theaters? The 2002 film was a modest success, but quickly established an awkward place as a feminist anthem, drinking up the gorgeous beaches and waves of Hawaii. Never mind the fact that director John Stockwell invested more in leering than liberation, the reputation stuck. An eternity later, Universal has revived the “Blue Crush” corpse with a DTV sequel, ditching Hawaii for the budget landscape of South Africa, while losing the original’s lascivious behavior to tinker with Disney Channel dramatics and candied characterization.
“This is a true story” reads the opening card of “In Her Skin,” throwing down a bold promise of truth to a film of shifting perspectives and hearsay. Though it opens as a routine missing person drama, the feature soon heads down some unspeakably grim areas of murder and psychological disease, hoping to emphasize the shock of the offense being recounted. It’s an intense picture that boils over too easily, but the purity of horror on display here is extraordinary.
Like any dependable Mike Leigh picture, “Another Year” leisurely reveals its secrets. It’s a glacial feature representing the passage of time, observing a single year in the life of a dangerously functional couple and their troubled friends and family. It’s not a film of direct conflict or suspense, but one that nurtures a sinking feeling of unease and sadness, watching as some of these characters fall deeper into hopelessness, almost to spite the happiness around them.
“Battle: Los Angeles” isn’t an alien invasion film, it’s a military picture with the occasional alien appearance. The marketing trumpets a global perspective on trespassing extraterrestrials, but the picture actually takes place almost entirely in Santa Monica, boiling down a sense of massive widescreen scope to a few city miles, placing the audience into the driver’s seat as a besieged platoon attempts to defend themselves against an unknown enemy. “Independence Day” this picture is most certainly not.
One would think that a simple spelunking disaster scenario would be enough to fill the running time of “Sanctum.” After all, the inherent danger of caves and raging waters is a compelling cinematic obstacle course on its own, supplying vital chills and spills needed to mount a successful thriller. “Sanctum” isn’t satisfied with the visceral basics, instead looking to engage the audience through dramatic cliché, leaving a nifty premise to wither while lifeless actors spout rotten dialogue and an unimaginative director stages substandard action set pieces. While teeming with promise and the marquee value of James Cameron as an executive producer, “Sanctum” is a deathly dull, criminally obvious feature film.
I sat down with “American: The Bill Hicks Story” holding only a slight awareness of the comedian, who died of pancreatic cancer in 1994 at the age of 32. I never found the man funny, but retained a curiosity about the “bad boy” comedian who commands such reverence in stand-up comedy circles, anticipating an extraordinary education from this documentary. Unfortunately, “American” doesn’t impart much in the way of hard facts about Hicks, preferring an affectionate route of celebration, blindly fawning over this mystery man in a way that would likely make Hicks himself retch.
Here’s a motion picture that completely unravels in its second half, but that initial rush of sinful obsession and frayed communication makes an immense impression. “Monogamy” approaches the delicate subject of fidelity, yet turns a common discussion of intimacy into a bizarre psychological study, losing its grip on potent topics to play with indie film clichés. I walked away from the film disappointed, but there are some powerful ideas and performances buried somewhere in here, underneath the performance art itches.
“The Company Men” is not a comfortable film to sit through. It is most certainly not escapism. Dealing with the disturbing subject matter of unemployment, the picture summarizes a national reality in a blunt matter, carrying the woe and aggravation to a dramatic stage for a more fulfilling consideration, using the extraordinarily gifted ensemble to explore a shared fear. Finding catharsis in bleak matters, the picture satisfies with its sincerity, allowing viewers to sympathize and reflect on the nature of job loss through this efficiently directed eulogy for American industry.
“The Unloved” endeavors to tell a very important story, but often does so with its shoelaces tied together. It’s a searing film at times, exposing raw truths about the children’s home care system in the U.K., but as an overall representation of horrors, neglect, and personal solace, it’s frustratingly static, often preferring the cool waters of esoteric cinema to something more charged and insightful.
BRIAN ORNDORF 