Wednesday, April 29, 2009

17 Again ***


Director: Burr Steers
Cast: Zac Efron, Matthew Perry
Leslie Mann, Thomas Lennon, Michelle Trachtenberg, Sterling Knight

Mike O'Donnell (Perry) is a middle aged pharmaceutical salesman, crashing at his best friend, Ned's (a scene stealing Lennon) house after his wife Scarlet (the always brilliant Mann) asked him for divorce.
His two kids (Trachtenberg and Knight) practically have no communication with him and he finds himself being passed for promotions at the job he hates.
Wallowing in regret and self pity he wishes he could go back in time to fix everything he did wrong and with the help of some movie magic he falls into a river, following a freaky accident and finds himself back in his 17-year-old body.
And only in the movies can Perry become Zac Efron. With his newfound youth he goes back to high school and tries to fix his relationship with his children and tries to get back with his wife leading to all kinds of inappropriate, yet somehow not disturbing, situations that lead to all sorts of comedic twists.
If this sounds too much like an inverted "Big", "13 Going on 30" and at least two dozen TV show premises it's because it completely is, so how do you turn a cliché ridden, predictable film into a successful, entertaining piece of pop culture?
Apparently by hiring Zac Efron in the lead role.
The 21-year-old drives the entire movie counting basically on pure charm and star magnetism. Obviously his presence will attract fans of his previous tween work and screaming schoolgirls (and some grownups who will act like that too), but after a while of just playing it cool Efron unveils layers that show that he can also act!
And he's pretty good at it; very few young actors would be able to convey the sense of loss and regret Efron achieves in a particularly moving scene in a courtroom and then work it like a pro in the dancefloor.
While the filmmakers childishly try to make the most out of his smile and abs, Efron is working on a completely different league.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

"The books have nothing to say!"


As a belated nod to "World Book Day" I saw "Fahrenheit 451" today and now have the sudden urge to memorize "Pride and Prejudice".

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Jack Cardiff 1914-2009


A few years ago an honorary Oscar was given to a man I'd never heard of before: Mr. Jack Cardiff. I have to confess that like the average person I used to know more about actors than about people that work behind the camera, but watching the tribute video about Cardiff I couldn't take my eyes off from the beauty of the images he had shot.
I was struck by the beauty of a pair of red shoes possessing a tragic dancer, thrilled by Kate and Bogie aboard a fighting ship and the image of Kathleen Byron consumed by lust was something I got out of my head until I got to see "Black Narcissus" some time later.
Cardiff has passed away at the astounding age of 94, age by which he'd photographed, and directed some of the most famous films of all time (he directed the first picture with Odorama!).
His work will live forever and I'm sure anyone who goes to the Himalayas will go in hopes that they fulfill the beauty promised by Cardiff.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Put the Blame on Salome.

Confessions of a Shopaholic **1/2


Director: P.J. Hogan
Cast: Isla Fisher, Hugh Dancy, Krysten Ritter
John Goodman, Joan Cusack, John Lithgow, Leslie Bibb
Lynn Redgrave, Kristin Scott Thomas

Rebecca Bloomwood (Fisher) is a journalist with a problem: she is addicted to shopping. Her excessive spending is sinking her in debt and she must hide from a feared credit collector (Robert Stanton who almost steals the film) while trying to land a job in "Alette" a fashion magazine she's dreamed of working in since se was a child.
A strike of, odd, luck lands her a job in a financial magazine instead, where she becomes an overnight sensation with her savvy column that brings money issues down to Earth for the average reader (read people too lazy to care about what's going on in the world and teenagers) by using fashion/shopping metaphors.
The magazine blooms, she develops a crush on her editor Luke (Dancy) and must hide her fiscal secrets from those who admire her.
Out of the land of realism this film is not. Rebecca's optimistic irresponsibility would have her in a pretty bad situation nowadays and what for many people might be a nightmare, for this character becomes an obstacle to overcome in search of her fairy tale ending.
What's undeniable is that the movie makes for bubbly escapism that's ironically much needed in times like these.
Borrowing the snappy chick wisdom from "Sex and the City", irrationally cute fantasy sequences straight out of "Ally McBeal" and Fisher trying hard to be Reese Witherspoon in "Legally Blonde" it's obvious that nothing here is new.
Add to this some "The Devil Wears Prada" (with the delicious Scott Thomas channeling yet another version of Ms. Anna Wintour, but surprisingly less icy) and a cartoony sense of comedic timing and this will seem like time well spent.
The film suffers a bit from a feeling of haste and incompleteness, too many subplots, too little for us to care including Bibb as an "Alette" competitor and Rebecca's parents (Goodman and Cusack) trying to put some old-er age wisdom and heart into the vapidness.
And while Fisher has improved from her previous screen appearances (her comedic timing and slapstick skills are remarkable) she still lacks a little something to carry an entire movie on her back.
She's absolutely cute and you buy her (no pun intended) as someone who'd literally run from a debt collector, but she lacks presence, which becomes ironically obvious with her wardrobe.
While she narrates about how much she loves clothes and style, Fisher and consequentially Rebecca are sometimes so intimidated by Gucci, Prada, Fendi and all the others that they seem to drown in the clothes.
A particularly awkward piece of jewelry shaped as an anchor (which Rebecca wears to a convention in Miami) really does look heavy on her which proves that even if costume designer Patricia Field is a genius, she needs another genius to pull off her ideas.
Some people might feel offended by the shallowness displayed by most characters, but it's wise to think that those people would never even go see this for starters.
P.J. Hogan, an expert in chick-flicks and rom-coms, takes the wise side by turning this film into a farce that gets more outrageous by the scene (Lynn Redgrave practically has a cameo as a drunk lady who proclaims she loves Rebecca), perhaps only by stating Rebecca is a heroine, instead of judging her (like any normal person would) does he feel he can uplift people's spirits.
"Your mother and I think that if the American economy can be billions in debt and still survive, so can you" says Rebecca's father and while the theater lights are dimmed you actually believe this.

Monday, April 20, 2009

A Star Isn't Born.


In 1975 Albert and David Maysles filmed "Grey Gardens", a documentary about the lives of Edith Bouvier Beale and her daughter who shared the same name.
Aunt and cousin of Jackeline Kennedy Onassis, Big and Little Edie became notorious for their downfall from society and a scandal surrounding the way they kept their East Hampton home, Grey Gardens.
The women lived in unsanitary conditions, shared their home with over fifty cats, raccoons and who knows what other critters and were even rumored to live without water and heat.
The documentary has become something of a cult classic as people become fascinated by what was going on inside the Edies minds and especially what kept them together after all those years.
Now pop culture figures, their appeal lies in the mystery of what happened in their lives before the documentary was released.
Following the very American tradition of dispelling mystery and digesting information for others, HBO films has produced a film version of "Grey Gardens" that tries to fill the gaps between truth, fiction, real life and the documentary.
Jessica Lange plays Big Edie, with a revelatory Drew Barrymore filling in the shoes of Little Edie. The film, directed by Michael Sucsy, travels back and forth in time from the Beales of the documentary to the socialites back in New York who eventually became the eccentric characters.
The production, as expected from the cable network, is stunning and meticulous, with kudos to costume designer Catherine Marie Thomas who dresses the women in clothes that not only look gorgeous, but also serve specific character intentions.
One of Little Edie's most amazing dresses is a one piece white silk dress, complete with hood, that immediately takes us forward in time to when she had lost her hair and wore scarves around her head, same goes for a delicate wrap she puts on going out of the sea which could serve as a cape in other times...
The costumes do the "tying up" work, the screenplay desperately tries to, without any of the forced lines screenwriters Sucsy and Patricia Rozema put in the characters' mouths.
What does separate this adaptation from any other "made for television" movie, is the quality of the performances.
Lange and Barrymore are nothing if not brilliant in the main roles. They both age, through the use of astounding makeup and on the spot accents and voices, almost fifty years in the space of under two hours.
And they achieve something even more rare than good imitation: believable emotional cores which make you forget they are actresses playing actual people.
Lange's Big Edie is a delightful combination of lust, frustration and misguided love towards her daughter.
"I was happier singing than anything I've ever done since I was born" she confesses to the Maysles, with an affecting tone that would become morbid if she didn't then burst into a joyous performance of "Tea for Two" while sitting on a decaying bed.
In scenes set in 1936 Lange just oozes sex and happiness, without letting go of a certain kind of conservative behavior that makes her become overbearingly protective of her daughter.
She talks to her daughter in a condescending way and seems delighted whenever she proves herself right, even if her daughter has suffered for this to become true.
In old age, Lange gives Big Edie an awkward kind of sweetness that becomes inconceivable whenever she lashes out on her daughter.
When she tells Little Edie "if you're stuck here it's only with yourself", there's a certain kind of resentment and ingratitude that shock only then to be replaced by compassion, as you feel the pain inside this woman.
Barrymore is incredible, really nobody probably saw this coming from her. Perhaps because she's someone who knows what it's like to be typecast and never given a chance to breakthrough, she connects to Little Edie in unexpected ways.
Little Edie always dreamed of becoming an actress (this film suggests that she also wanted to be first lady and held resentment towards Jackie O., portrayed here with gravitas and dignity by Tripplehorn ), but by both the documentary and this film's end, what's obvious is that Edie wanted to be any kind of star.
She becomes involved with a married man (Daniel Baldwin) and as her dreams seem less unattainable goes back to her mom in Grey Gardens, eventually becoming her only, human, companion.
Barrymore, who can win anything based on charm alone, creates a terrifically appealing Edie; as a young woman she's breathtaking and sexy, she introduces herself as "Ms, Beale, poet, temptress, entertainer...".
Older, when her hair has fallen off, she still retains a classic sort of glamour. It's heartbreaking to see her literally holding on the the last pieces of fabric she had to come up with ingenious things to wear. Her now famous pin skirt/cape isn't a cry of desperation as much as a statement of pride.
Drew also gives Edie a sad quality notable in quiet moments when the camera is focused on someone else. It's when she doesn't try to hog the spotlight that she becomes more fascinating.
Excited at the possibility of becoming a star under the Maysles direction she proclaims she will change the 70's "just like the way the New Wave changed cinema!" and later adds "though I never went out to see the New Wave".
It's ironic that Barrymore has blossomed into a real actress by playing someone who never got her chance to do so.
But there's also something quite ironic in that statement, since the nature of the Beales' lives offers many questions about what exactly constitutes performing arts.
"I'm not much of an actress you know" says Big Edie to the Maysles but still puts on a hell of a show for them.
So does Little Edie who tells authorities knocking on her door, "I'll be down as soon as I put on some lipstick".
Were these women auditioning fo their entire lives? If so, the word exploitation is often heard in regards to the Maysles and this film which never clears this up for us, suggests even that the Beales' thirst for fame was just as exploitative as the filmmakers' approach.
One of them sums up this divine decadence by saying "It's just artists making a film about artists".
If this is such an inclusive engagement, where do we stand?