A review of Flash of Genius.
I really wanted to love Flash of Genius, because it’s my kind of movie. If I have a wheelhouse, the biopic tale of an underdog triumphing over evil occupies a great deal of real estate in there. And while I enjoyed Flash of Genius and wouldn’t discourage anyone from seeing it, the film does not fall into the "rush right out" category. In fact, given its pacing, Flash of Genius is precisely the type of movie that might best be enjoyed at home on DVD, so you can pause it every so often and even take a break at some point so that you don’t get too impatient with the methodical unfolding of events that builds toward a predictable conclusion.
Adapted by Philip Railsback from a New Yorker story by John Seabrook and directed by Marc Abraham (an accomplished producer of such fare as Children of Men and Thirteen Days making his directorial debut), Flash of Genius chronicles the tale of Dr. Robert Kearns (Greg Kinnear), the electrical engineering professor who first cracked the code, so to speak, and successfully created a functioning intermittent windshield wiper. After conceiving the circuitry behind the intermittent windshield wiper, Kearns strikes a deal with the Ford Motor Company to manufacture and supply it to Ford. Flash of Genius recounts Kearns’ struggle to hold Ford accountable when the powers that be renege on the deal and, for all intents and purposes, steal Kearns’ invention, and the havoc that Kearns’ obsession with and inability to get past this wrong wreaks upon his life and his family.
Flash of Genius is filled with superb performances. Greg Kinnear truly inhabits Bob Kearns, unflinchingly embracing his prickliness, unyielding morality and obsessive nature. Mr. Kinnear infuses Bob Kearns with layers and nuances that make him more likeable than he may have a right to be. He is both the heart of the movie and, to some degree, its greatest challenge. I had the pleasure of attending a Q&A with Mr. Kinnear after seeing the film, and interestingly, he seized upon one of my notes – he mentioned that, originally, after he had read about half of the script, he put it down, having determined that he was fairly certain he didn’t actually like Dr. Kearns. Ultimately, to the benefit of everyone, Mr. Kinnear seized the gauntlet thrown down by the prospect of playing a character like Dr. Kearns. Equally crucial to the film's high quality was the casting of Lauren Graham as Bob’s wife, Phyllis Kearns. In less deft hands, Phyllis could have come off as villainous, shrewish or even ancillary to the tale of Bob’s fight. But Ms. Graham strikes just the right balance of wifey-ness and independence, maternalism and spunk, and instead, Phyllis remains front and center, even when she’s not physically present.
The primary weakness of Flash of Genius is that the tale of a man who invented something as small in scope and grandeur as the intermittent windshield wiper and then fought about its ownership in court is an inherently difficult story to dramatize. For better or for worse, windshield wipers simply aren’t all that sexy, and a battle over their speed isn’t exciting to watch, especially when one considers the fact that a particular outcome had to have been achieved in order for the story to merit a cinematic adaptation. The story also lacks the Brockovichian urgency of an intense life-or-death fight against The Man, a nefarious corporate power who is responsible for inflicting grievous physical harm upon hundreds of people. Here, Bob fights an iteration of The Man, Ford, for stealing, which is deplorable, but not nearly as visceral as, e.g., causing cancer in a child. Further, the more significant wrong committed against Bob is not the theft of profits from his invention, but more importantly, the robbing of his dignity, which is a more internal loss, and thus more difficult to translate to the screen.
Similarly, while I understand the filmmakers' choice to hook the audience into the story of Flash of Genius via flashforwarding to Bob's nervous breakdown (note: I don’t consider this to be a spoiler as it is the opening scene of the film), I ultimately found the moment difficult to connect with because it wasn't fraught with tension and drama (for me, anyway). It actually confused me a bit as an introduction to the character and left me in a state of anticipation, waiting for the moment when the story would catch up to where we as an audience had already been taken. That set the tone for the pacing of the rest of the film, and I felt impatient watching it, wanting Bob to get to the next step quicker. It also probably didn't help that it's difficult to spend two hours with a character who is so prickly and at times, fairly unlikeable. Ultimately, though, Flash of Genius is worth your time; it's a well written, well directed, well performed movie that, like the court system portrayed in the film, is just a little slow.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The Neverending Wedding
A review of Rachel Getting Married.
Written by Jenny Lumet (daughter of director Sidney) and directed by Jonathan Demme, Rachel Getting Married (“Rachel”) is not a fun movie to watch, nor does it seem it was intended to be. It's one of those indie films built around a Big Heavy Event From The Past (“BHEFTP”) that allows that BHEFTP to dominate everyone and everything in the film. And we get that from the opening scene of the film, so there’s nothing left to do but watch how that BHEFTHP is going to play out between our protagonist, Kym (Anne Hathaway), and every other character in the movie, including Kym’s sister, the nuptials-bound Rachel (Rosemarie DeWitt) of the film’s title.
Kym, released from a nine month stint in rehab at the top of the film, returns home to her family's sprawling Connecticut home just in time for elder sister Rachel's wedding. We learn immediately that Rachel and her friends resent Kym for siphoning attention on this and every occasion. Kym and Rachel's overly emotional father, Paul (Bill Irwin), can't help but keep constant tabs on Kym while their mother, Abby (Debra Winger), couldn't want less to do with her. Divorced from each other, both parents are remarried but maintain a cordial relationship. Rachel chronicles the weekend's worth of wedding events and how Kym's presence in the face of this happy milestone forces everyone to confront the BHEFTP.
One of the strengths of the film is its performances. Without a doubt, Jonthan Demme is an immensely skillful director who ably conjures extraordinary performances from his actors (see, e.g., Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs and Tom Hanks and Denzel Washington in Philadelphia). But some of his choices in Rachel are mind-boggling (we'll get to those). Under his tutelage, however, Anne Hathaway gives a fierce, fearless performance. She made me forget she was the adorable Mia of The Princess Diaries or the annoying Andy from The Devil Wears Prada, and she disappeared into the role of Kym, giving a great deal of depth to her performance. And even though I found the movie predictable, and somewhat frustrating in its predictability, Ms. Hathaway’s performance still managed to move me at the climactic moments without making me feel too manipulated. Likewise, Rosemarie DeWitt infused Rachel with authenticity and made what could've been a tiresome character both relatable and sympathetic. Debra Winger stood out for giving a fairly two-dimensional character many layers, more often for what was left unsaid than her actual dialogue. And the rest of the cast, for the most part, was strong. Thus, the film’s flaws are not to be found in any weakness of performance.
Rather, the flaws in Rachel are to be found in its script. None of the characters felt fully realized; I never got a real sense of who they were, just what happened to them. They were limited in their revelation to us not in being defined by the BHEFTP, but by failing to show us who they were beyond the BHEFTP. For example, I never really understood why Rachel and Sidney (her fiancé, l’m guessing named for Ms. Lumet's father) fell in love each other. I heard the story of their meeting, but that didn't tell me anything of who they were to each other. It felt like Sidney existed to further other characters' arcs. For example, in a particularly calculated scene involving Paul and his soon-to-be-son-in-law, he and Sidney engage in a manly contest over the loading of the dishwasher. Yes, you read that correctly: the loading of the dishwasher. As in, which man could fit more dishes in. Anyway, the entire point of this fairly long and convoluted dishwasher scene was the discovery of a particular plate, or rather, Paul’s reaction to seeing said plate. It felt like a scene that would be constructed in a screenwriting class as an example of emotional manipulation. On top of that, there were a number of scenes where I cringed in my seat waiting for the cliché to happen, and more often than not, it did. Particularly egregious was the rehearsal dinner toast scene in which we got the self-centered, just out of rehab Kym making a toast to her sister that’s really all about herself and her recovery. And while we’re at the rehearsal dinner, why were there so many toasts? I’ve been to my fair share of nuptials and nuptial-related events, and I never seen that many toasts. It was fairly maddening.
Also maddening was the constant din of music in the house. About halfway through Rachel, one of the characters comments about that music – “do they ever stop?” That may have been the most apt line of the movie. Seriously, they never stopped. And I understand that the presence of the music was likely serving as artistic symbolism regarding the drowning out of the pain and the sorrow in the house, but it just became distracting to the greater art that was the film. In addition, so many scenes in the movie felt neverending. In particular, the musical acts at both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding reception. I honestly thought the wedding reception might never end.
And finally, speaking of endings, I found the conclusion of Rachel to be confusing and ambiguous, which left me feeling even less satisfied about the experience of seeing the film. Thus, while normally after a review such as this, I would urge you, fair reader, to wait until the DVD release to see Rachel if you feel inspired to see Anne Hathaway's performance, I will instead urge you to go see it in the theater if you are so moved, and then let me know what your interpretation of the ending was. Rachel at least achieved that much – it will certainly stay with me, although it will be the nagging uncertainty over the conclusion that remains stuck in my brain.
Written by Jenny Lumet (daughter of director Sidney) and directed by Jonathan Demme, Rachel Getting Married (“Rachel”) is not a fun movie to watch, nor does it seem it was intended to be. It's one of those indie films built around a Big Heavy Event From The Past (“BHEFTP”) that allows that BHEFTP to dominate everyone and everything in the film. And we get that from the opening scene of the film, so there’s nothing left to do but watch how that BHEFTHP is going to play out between our protagonist, Kym (Anne Hathaway), and every other character in the movie, including Kym’s sister, the nuptials-bound Rachel (Rosemarie DeWitt) of the film’s title.
Kym, released from a nine month stint in rehab at the top of the film, returns home to her family's sprawling Connecticut home just in time for elder sister Rachel's wedding. We learn immediately that Rachel and her friends resent Kym for siphoning attention on this and every occasion. Kym and Rachel's overly emotional father, Paul (Bill Irwin), can't help but keep constant tabs on Kym while their mother, Abby (Debra Winger), couldn't want less to do with her. Divorced from each other, both parents are remarried but maintain a cordial relationship. Rachel chronicles the weekend's worth of wedding events and how Kym's presence in the face of this happy milestone forces everyone to confront the BHEFTP.
One of the strengths of the film is its performances. Without a doubt, Jonthan Demme is an immensely skillful director who ably conjures extraordinary performances from his actors (see, e.g., Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs and Tom Hanks and Denzel Washington in Philadelphia). But some of his choices in Rachel are mind-boggling (we'll get to those). Under his tutelage, however, Anne Hathaway gives a fierce, fearless performance. She made me forget she was the adorable Mia of The Princess Diaries or the annoying Andy from The Devil Wears Prada, and she disappeared into the role of Kym, giving a great deal of depth to her performance. And even though I found the movie predictable, and somewhat frustrating in its predictability, Ms. Hathaway’s performance still managed to move me at the climactic moments without making me feel too manipulated. Likewise, Rosemarie DeWitt infused Rachel with authenticity and made what could've been a tiresome character both relatable and sympathetic. Debra Winger stood out for giving a fairly two-dimensional character many layers, more often for what was left unsaid than her actual dialogue. And the rest of the cast, for the most part, was strong. Thus, the film’s flaws are not to be found in any weakness of performance.
Rather, the flaws in Rachel are to be found in its script. None of the characters felt fully realized; I never got a real sense of who they were, just what happened to them. They were limited in their revelation to us not in being defined by the BHEFTP, but by failing to show us who they were beyond the BHEFTP. For example, I never really understood why Rachel and Sidney (her fiancé, l’m guessing named for Ms. Lumet's father) fell in love each other. I heard the story of their meeting, but that didn't tell me anything of who they were to each other. It felt like Sidney existed to further other characters' arcs. For example, in a particularly calculated scene involving Paul and his soon-to-be-son-in-law, he and Sidney engage in a manly contest over the loading of the dishwasher. Yes, you read that correctly: the loading of the dishwasher. As in, which man could fit more dishes in. Anyway, the entire point of this fairly long and convoluted dishwasher scene was the discovery of a particular plate, or rather, Paul’s reaction to seeing said plate. It felt like a scene that would be constructed in a screenwriting class as an example of emotional manipulation. On top of that, there were a number of scenes where I cringed in my seat waiting for the cliché to happen, and more often than not, it did. Particularly egregious was the rehearsal dinner toast scene in which we got the self-centered, just out of rehab Kym making a toast to her sister that’s really all about herself and her recovery. And while we’re at the rehearsal dinner, why were there so many toasts? I’ve been to my fair share of nuptials and nuptial-related events, and I never seen that many toasts. It was fairly maddening.
Also maddening was the constant din of music in the house. About halfway through Rachel, one of the characters comments about that music – “do they ever stop?” That may have been the most apt line of the movie. Seriously, they never stopped. And I understand that the presence of the music was likely serving as artistic symbolism regarding the drowning out of the pain and the sorrow in the house, but it just became distracting to the greater art that was the film. In addition, so many scenes in the movie felt neverending. In particular, the musical acts at both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding reception. I honestly thought the wedding reception might never end.
And finally, speaking of endings, I found the conclusion of Rachel to be confusing and ambiguous, which left me feeling even less satisfied about the experience of seeing the film. Thus, while normally after a review such as this, I would urge you, fair reader, to wait until the DVD release to see Rachel if you feel inspired to see Anne Hathaway's performance, I will instead urge you to go see it in the theater if you are so moved, and then let me know what your interpretation of the ending was. Rachel at least achieved that much – it will certainly stay with me, although it will be the nagging uncertainty over the conclusion that remains stuck in my brain.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Tropic Blunder
A review of Tropic Thunder.
My popcorn was better than Tropic Thunder, and that's saying something, because it wasn't even primo movie popcorn. This is a sad review for me to write, because Tropic Thunder had such potential. Written by Ben Stiller, Justin Theroux and Etan Cohen and directed by Ben Stiller, it was a movie that I eagerly anticipated all summer. The premise is ripe with possibility; there’s just so much funny that can come from it. And damn if the previews didn’t make it look, well, fairly awesome. So sad was I, then, when I hit the moment, and literally there was a moment as I watching the film (fear not, we'll get to it), when I knew unequivocally that Tropic Thunder would fail to live up to its potential. And perhaps my review will end up being harsher because my expectations were so high. If so, so be it. To those with great talent comes great responsibility and therefore accountability.
Tropic Thunder chronicles the misadventures of a cadre of actors assembled to shoot an action movie of the same name, based upon the bestselling supposed "true story" of Vietnam veteran Four Leaf Tayback's (Nick Nolte) time as a POW and his subsequent rescue. Threatened with a shutdown by the studio on only the fifth day of shooting on location in Vietnam, director Damien Cockburn (the hilarious Steve Coogan) desperately seizes upon Four Leaf's idea to shoot the film guerilla style. The mechanics of this "guerilla" style of filmmaking are never fully explicated, but they involve the use of "surveillance" type cameras installed in the jungle, as well as remote controlled explosives rigged by the trigger happy SFX guy, Cody (Danny McBride). Lead actors Tugg Speedman (Ben Stiller), Kirk Lazarus (Robert Downey Jr.), Jeff Portnoy (Jack Black), Alpa Chino (Brandon T. Jackson) and Kevin Sandusky (Jay Baruchel) are unceremoniously dropped in the middle of the jungle and quickly become the prey of real-life dangerous heroin manufacturers.
If that set-up seemed laborious to read, imagine what it felt like to watch. And that's not even all of it. There was just too much there, which I often find to be a flaw in Ben Stiller's brand of humor – he doesn't know when to say when, overtaxing what might otherwise be an unequivocally funny movie. And there is a lot to be amused by in Tropic Thunder. From the very first moments when we are introduced to the main characters via trailers for their upcoming individual projects, the laughs are plentiful, especially when Robert Downey Jr. appears – the trailer featuring Kirk Lazarus made me laugh so hard I nearly cried – it's pure genius. As is the very premise of Lazarus – an Australian super-actor (winner of five, yes, that's five Oscars) who has undergone a skin pigmentation process to play an African American soldier who never breaks character. His interactions with Brandon T. Jackson's Alpa Chino (who makes the most of a two-dimensional character) are effective and amusing. Jay Baruchel plays a great straight man and mines the humor skillfully out of each of his scenes. Jack Black and Matthew McConaughey (as Tuggs's TiVo-obsessed agent, Rick Peck) are both somewhat annoying, but then so are their characters, so well played gentlemen, well played. And Tom Cruise as tubby, follicularly-challenged studio head Les Grossman is truly a gem, striking just the right level of crass bawdiness to make for a highly entertaining performance. And who knew Cruise still had such moves? Be sure to stay through to the closing credits to get the full effect.
And then there's Ben Stiller's Tugg Speedman, an annoyingly un-self-aware lug of a fading action star. Tugg is very one-note and funny only in limited doses. (Beware, some of the following may be considered to be "spoilers," although nothing revealed will actually spoil your enjoyment of the movie.) The gag relating to his bid for serious acting accolades, starring as a mentally challenged man in "Simple Jack," was funny insofar as it relates to Lazarus' discussion of what it takes to win an Oscar (not going "full retard"). But as he does so often (see, e.g., Dodge Ball), Stiller takes the joke too far. And here's where we return to that moment that made me go "oh no" as I was watching Tropic Thunder. First, there is a foreshadowing of the "oh no" moment as Tugg, alone in the jungle, is startled by a creature that he wrestles and kills, only to discover it is a cuddly panda, an animal he has been previously been photographed supporting. That made me groan because (a) what are the odds that he'd encounter the very animal whose livelihood he's made his cause and (b) a panda, in the Vietnamese jungle? really? The moment Tropic Thunder lost me for good, though, came soon afterward, when Tugg is captured by the dangerous heroin manufacturers. Really, the one DVD they have access to is "Simple Jack"? And they worship that schlock as true art? And seriously, the group's leader is a kid? Why? None of it made any sense, and none of it was particularly funny.
And therein lies the problem, because the rest of the movie is built on the notion that these are funny set pieces that can sustain the momentum of the plot. My take: they can't. So ultimately, Tropic Thunder is only half a good movie. I laughed at many parts of it and overall seeing the movie wasn't a bad experience, it just wasn’t particularly good. I could've waited on this one until it came out on DVD.
My popcorn was better than Tropic Thunder, and that's saying something, because it wasn't even primo movie popcorn. This is a sad review for me to write, because Tropic Thunder had such potential. Written by Ben Stiller, Justin Theroux and Etan Cohen and directed by Ben Stiller, it was a movie that I eagerly anticipated all summer. The premise is ripe with possibility; there’s just so much funny that can come from it. And damn if the previews didn’t make it look, well, fairly awesome. So sad was I, then, when I hit the moment, and literally there was a moment as I watching the film (fear not, we'll get to it), when I knew unequivocally that Tropic Thunder would fail to live up to its potential. And perhaps my review will end up being harsher because my expectations were so high. If so, so be it. To those with great talent comes great responsibility and therefore accountability.
Tropic Thunder chronicles the misadventures of a cadre of actors assembled to shoot an action movie of the same name, based upon the bestselling supposed "true story" of Vietnam veteran Four Leaf Tayback's (Nick Nolte) time as a POW and his subsequent rescue. Threatened with a shutdown by the studio on only the fifth day of shooting on location in Vietnam, director Damien Cockburn (the hilarious Steve Coogan) desperately seizes upon Four Leaf's idea to shoot the film guerilla style. The mechanics of this "guerilla" style of filmmaking are never fully explicated, but they involve the use of "surveillance" type cameras installed in the jungle, as well as remote controlled explosives rigged by the trigger happy SFX guy, Cody (Danny McBride). Lead actors Tugg Speedman (Ben Stiller), Kirk Lazarus (Robert Downey Jr.), Jeff Portnoy (Jack Black), Alpa Chino (Brandon T. Jackson) and Kevin Sandusky (Jay Baruchel) are unceremoniously dropped in the middle of the jungle and quickly become the prey of real-life dangerous heroin manufacturers.
If that set-up seemed laborious to read, imagine what it felt like to watch. And that's not even all of it. There was just too much there, which I often find to be a flaw in Ben Stiller's brand of humor – he doesn't know when to say when, overtaxing what might otherwise be an unequivocally funny movie. And there is a lot to be amused by in Tropic Thunder. From the very first moments when we are introduced to the main characters via trailers for their upcoming individual projects, the laughs are plentiful, especially when Robert Downey Jr. appears – the trailer featuring Kirk Lazarus made me laugh so hard I nearly cried – it's pure genius. As is the very premise of Lazarus – an Australian super-actor (winner of five, yes, that's five Oscars) who has undergone a skin pigmentation process to play an African American soldier who never breaks character. His interactions with Brandon T. Jackson's Alpa Chino (who makes the most of a two-dimensional character) are effective and amusing. Jay Baruchel plays a great straight man and mines the humor skillfully out of each of his scenes. Jack Black and Matthew McConaughey (as Tuggs's TiVo-obsessed agent, Rick Peck) are both somewhat annoying, but then so are their characters, so well played gentlemen, well played. And Tom Cruise as tubby, follicularly-challenged studio head Les Grossman is truly a gem, striking just the right level of crass bawdiness to make for a highly entertaining performance. And who knew Cruise still had such moves? Be sure to stay through to the closing credits to get the full effect.
And then there's Ben Stiller's Tugg Speedman, an annoyingly un-self-aware lug of a fading action star. Tugg is very one-note and funny only in limited doses. (Beware, some of the following may be considered to be "spoilers," although nothing revealed will actually spoil your enjoyment of the movie.) The gag relating to his bid for serious acting accolades, starring as a mentally challenged man in "Simple Jack," was funny insofar as it relates to Lazarus' discussion of what it takes to win an Oscar (not going "full retard"). But as he does so often (see, e.g., Dodge Ball), Stiller takes the joke too far. And here's where we return to that moment that made me go "oh no" as I was watching Tropic Thunder. First, there is a foreshadowing of the "oh no" moment as Tugg, alone in the jungle, is startled by a creature that he wrestles and kills, only to discover it is a cuddly panda, an animal he has been previously been photographed supporting. That made me groan because (a) what are the odds that he'd encounter the very animal whose livelihood he's made his cause and (b) a panda, in the Vietnamese jungle? really? The moment Tropic Thunder lost me for good, though, came soon afterward, when Tugg is captured by the dangerous heroin manufacturers. Really, the one DVD they have access to is "Simple Jack"? And they worship that schlock as true art? And seriously, the group's leader is a kid? Why? None of it made any sense, and none of it was particularly funny.
And therein lies the problem, because the rest of the movie is built on the notion that these are funny set pieces that can sustain the momentum of the plot. My take: they can't. So ultimately, Tropic Thunder is only half a good movie. I laughed at many parts of it and overall seeing the movie wasn't a bad experience, it just wasn’t particularly good. I could've waited on this one until it came out on DVD.
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