While monumentally dated in nearly every facet of production, 1987’s “The Lost Boys” has held on to become a beloved cult film and the widely recognized starter pistol for the whole “Corey” phenomenon. Joel Schumacher’s ode to vampires, red camera filters, and hetero Rob Lowe worship still beguiles to this day; a horror/comedy with real genre teeth, outstanding performances, and a flavorful, haunting soundtrack.
“Brideshead Revisited” is a museum piece, perhaps the most famous tale of isolation and stunted emotion around. It’s a fragile story that requires attentive direction, for any false move in interpretation will result in a complete dramatic malfunction. Facing incredible odds against it, this pass at conquering “Brideshead” is a worthy offering to the period-piece gods, presenting British aristocracy with the perfect edge of contempt and illicit sexual behavior shaped with the true angle of guilt.
Philippe Petit was a man who thrived on adventure, or at least the composition of it. Petit was a gifted street performer, great on a unicycle and able to awe crowds with his sleight of hand, but he always had his eye on a bigger impression: an act that would merge the beauty of his skills with the publicity befitting a king. It was a calling that drove him to undertake a harrowing act of physical dexterity that would forever solidify his place in New York City popular culture: in 1974, Petit attempted to cross between the World Trade Center towers on a tightrope.
Many question marks appear while watching “The Wackness.” Who are these characters? Why should we care about their miserable lives? Why did this story have to be told in a 1994 setting? A natural curiosity is missing from the hackneyed picture, making the viewing experience stagnant and unrewarding.
After the contact high that Christopher Nolan’s brooding magician yarn “The Prestige” cooked up a few years back, it’s absurdly disappointing to watch Gillian Armstrong’s “Death Defying Acts” fail to match the same beat. This is a romantic film, not antagonistic, but let’s be truthful here: if its period and presents acts of staged deception, it hard to top Nolan’s whirlwind thriller.
“Baghead” is a picture where intent and execution are so blurred, I’m not even sure how to properly process it. Purportedly a member of the DIY “mumblecore” movement of cinema (a.k.a. “discreetly unprofessional”), “Baghead” is much too slipshod to be labeled anything but a forgettable, tiresome pass at evoking horror and comedy, tarted up under the tent of sleepy independent film obviousness.
I generally regard 1999’s “The Mummy” and its 2001 sequel, “The Mummy Returns,” as blatant disasters of recent cinema. The two pictures are boisterous beasts of CG-heavy nonsense, basted in a claustrophobic “summer entertainment for all!” sauce of cheap thrills, ghastly acting, and abysmal screenwriting.
So, it seemed like a perfectly rational idea to venture out into the miserable world and screen both movies again in advance of the upcoming sequel nobody actually asked for, “The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor.”
It’s been three lengthy years since “Batman Begins” clobbered the big screen, and the wait for the next chapter in this saga has been interminable. What director Christopher Nolan achieved with “Begins” was superhero tonality on an inspired, chilling scale; it was cartoon vigilantism turned into a mesmerizing metropolitan dirge, masterfully executed in a manner that made previous attempts to bring Batman to life seem juvenile and insincere.
Well, “The Dark Knight” eats “Begins” for breakfast.
It was only a year ago when I suffered utter disdain for “Hairspray,” a shrill, overdirected musical comedy that I found merciless in its unpleasantness. Turns out all it was missing was the music of ABBA; “Mamma Mia!” is the same vintage of shrill, overdirected musical comedy, yet it breaks free of self-conscious bondage to kick off a suitably electrifying big-screen pajama party of dancing, singing, and devotion to all things Europop.
“Space Chimps” is many things, but the one advantage it lacks is a sizable budget. If you’re a respectable production that wants to be taken seriously and can’t even scrounge up the coin to license Yello’s 1985 hit “Oh Yeah,” instead electing to use a tinny sound-alike…that should be the first clue that something is seriously awry with the movie.
A searing lament for China and the eradication of its historic farming culture, “Up the Yangtze” is a stunning documentary that details every gut-churning step of inevitability.
“Diminished Capacity” is actor Terry Kinney’s feature-film directing debut, and it handles like the work of someone who’s just getting the feel for his storytelling dimension. A gentle, agreeable dramedy, “Capacity” reveals that Kinney has a unique hold on tone and shares a palpable charm with his actors.
“Meet Bill” is a torturous viewing experience that’s downright baffling to even consider. Here’s a capable cast and a moody little plot, and yet there’s absolutely no reason to watch this dreadful picture. Consider it a brutal accident on the cinematic freeway. Just slow down long enough to gawk, but keep moving forward at all costs.
To better appreciate “Encounters at the End of the World,” it’s best to view it not as a scientific documentary, but as a home movie from screendom’s crankiest old bastard. That’s right, Werner Herzog is back with his latest non-fiction endeavor, proving again that it’s not actually naturalistic poetry until it’s been touched by his camera.
(Reviewed at the 2008 Phoenix Film Festival)
I don’t know what to be more frightened of: the plight of the average Midwestern teenager or the state of documentary films. “American Teen” yearns to expose the aching heart of high schoolers, but comes up short in rather impressive fashion, taking cues from MTV’s “The Hills” to manufacture a documentary that doesn’t appear to contain a living, breathing moment of reality.
Once the king of comedy, it’s been a disheartening journey for Eddie Murphy recently; he’s failed to remind audiences what once made him such a hot comedy commodity, only to see his mojo dissipate through a series of bad script choices and forgettable kid film diversions. I wouldn’t label “Meet Dave” a reputation-revitalizing turn for the actor, but the picture is admirably competent, delightfully silly, and absent a majority of repulsions typically associated with an Eddie Murphy family film.
2004’s “Hellboy” was a sprawling, mysterious, comical, slimy, and idiosyncratic monster movie. “Hellboy II: The Golden Army” has all of those qualities and one more: restraint. Well, at least a newfound sense of limitation; this sequel overdoses in a big way on fantasy tangents, yet, unlike the earlier picture, it clicks together with a greater, more direct geek panache.
“Journey to the Center of the Earth” isn’t a straight-jacket adaptation of the Jules Verne classic, but a vague photocopy that eschews daring adventure for cheap, plastic thrills, tarted up with a sickly glaze of 3-D to help prop up the anemic screenplay. It’s a gimmick-driven movie and it’s shocking how much the final product lacks the source material’s intrinsic magic.
“Never Forever” had all the opportunity in the world to fall in line with its romance-novel inclinations, to feed off melodrama and end up a tragic tear-jerker that flails wildly and distills the pain of life into bite-sized bits of mascara-smeared displeasure. Thank heavens writer/director Gina Kim isn’t interested in reducing her feature to a puddle of pandering.
BRIAN ORNDORF 