I Make Movie Review-500 Days of Summer

I know I've been wearing the "A" grade out lately-but the truth is, it's been a great summer at the movies. Up, Hurt Locker, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Star Trek, etc. etc.-formidable triumphs all. But it's the romantic comedy that's really come to the fore this summer. From Julie and Julia to Away We Go and now the wholly original dazzler 500 Days of Summer, the recent season has been jam-packed with great romantic comedies-genuine, tender-hearted films that re-charge the old Boy Meets Girl conventions for the new millenium. And, yet again, I'll be ladling out an "A" grade for Summer. While the other two romances mentioned above meddle gently and movingly with the conventions of the Model Movie Romances, this one smashes the model to pieces and makes its own. Tom and Summer (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Zooey Deschanel), love and lose, as is typical of this type of cinema. But, unlike other love stories, this one has no linear structure-we learn the details of this relationship in a series of vignettes culled from this date or that night in bed. Instead of trapping the movie in Gimmickry Hell, this gives debut director Marc Webb total freedom-freedom he uses to excellent effect. Without the restrictions of space and time, we see scenes in the order that will amount to the greatest emotional impact. In one scene, Tom and Summer climb sit happily at the movies. In the next, God knows how many months later, Tom is in the same movie theatre, hungover, asleep, alone. Webb has little need for reality either-fairy-tale narrators, hysterical post-coital musical numbers, cartoons-they all make appearances here than, enhancing the story instead of overloading it. It's an ambitious experiment that wouldn't work without the two phenomenal leads. Gordon-Levitt gets so deep under the skin of Tom that the line between actor and character almost disappears. And Deschanel scores a knockout, conveying both confusion and confidence with her tremulous smile. I can only fault the film for siding a tad too much with Tom from time to time. But a movie this invigorating, this brilliantly written and smartly soundtracked, this wickedly witty and shocking close-the-bone, is more than worth taking a chance on. I'll be going back to see this one again very soon. A-.

I Make Movie Review-Julie and Julia

Saying Meryl Streep's latest performance is great is like stating that cake is bad for you or Michael Jackson was occasionally a tad loopy; it's just a fact of life. But in Julie and Julia, the savory stunner of a Julia Child biopic, Streep outdoes herself. Decked out in high heels and bewigged with a brown hairpiece to play do-it-yourself American chef, she doesn't just nail the walk, the laugh, the famous sing-song voice-she digs deeper, making Julia a deeply prideful, deliciously animated bon vivant, at once larger-than-life and utterly human. In what may come to be her defining performance, She takes risks that pay off big time-and oughta earn her her 192034903904930902940935093431 billionth Oscar, too. This is an exemplary star turn-it's just flat-out unmissable. Streep's magnificent, laudable high-wire act of a performance is the special ingredient that makes this dish so tasty. But the rest of the recipe ain't half-bad, either. Take Amy Adams, a sassy wonder as Julie Powell, a modern day New Yorker whose in-the-kitchen odyssey becomes a parallel story to Child's. Or Stanley Tucci, who offers such a touching portrait of pure devotion as Paul Child. Or Chris Messina, who makes the old cliche of Husband Pushed Aside work again. Or Mary Lynn Rajskub, Linda Emond, Helen Carey-splendid, memorable performances all. The attention to period detail is nothing short of remarkable, Alexandre Desplat's score shimmers, and Nora Ephron writes and directs with a tart insightfulness that more than makes up for her recent flops. The laughs and tears come with such frequency that the movie's 123 minutes fly by. Oh, and the food looks GOOD. The only downside of Julie and Julia-an unexpected summer surprise that ranks among the year's very best-is that, with all the mouth-watering food onscreen, you'll leave hungry. But you'll also leave full in a way, smiling and more than satisfied with a creation as hearty, rich, and rhapsodic as the lady it celebrates. A.

I Make Movie Review-GI Joe

Okay, let's face it--critics would trash any movie with the GI Joe stamp on it, even if it were, say, a Hurt Locker-esque stroke of celluloid brilliance. But that's not what you want from GI Joe: Rise of Cobra. You pretend to be too good for it, but you secretly crave the ultimate empty-headed, badasses-go-to-war, landmarks-go-kerblooey of your machine-gun wet-dreams. In that context, Joe delivers-sometimes. Word is Paramount Studios meddled big-time with Stephen Sommers directorial vision before this one hit the 'plexes. Perhaps this explains why this film feels like two different pictures spliced together; a mindless, Mummy-esque thrill ride, and a weighty, subplot-infested, cliffhanger-riddled behemoth designed to spawn sequel after sequel after big-money sequel. When Film 1 wins, it's action-movie nirvana-Sommers knows his way around the whoop-ass road, and he orchestrates action set pieces of such pedal-to-the-medal ingenuity that the occasional sloppy special effect or cheap stunt really doesn't matter. Best in show is a chase that literally spans the entire city of Paris-characters jump, dodge, and shoot with enough slow-motion gusto to give Neo bad-boy penis envy. Sadly, as cool as Film 1 is, we see a LOT more of Film 2 here. This is the film that tacks on about 800 vapid backstories (the one set on the most backlot-looking China since the Bruce Lee days got gobs of unintentional laughter), turgid one-liners , god-awful speeches about honor, and country delivered with typical dryness by Dennis Quaid (COME BACK TO THE LIGHT, MAN!), and, of course, plenty of set-ups for a sequel. The sad thing is, the actors here seem game to make a good movie, and the cast-Channing Tatum, Sienna Miller, Marlon Wayans, Joseph Gordon-Levitt (!), Christopher Eccleston. But for all their enthusiasm, they just can't make this bloated balloon of a story float. Still, give Sommers points for leaving out the soft-core porno and nagging misogyny that plagued the summer's other big toy-based movie. Also, under doubtless pressure from the studio to not change the sucky-script, Sommers is samrt enough to let the character that isn't in the dialogue come out in our heroes and villains fighting styles. Miller's dysfunctional Dominatrix, Wayan's cocky sidekick, Gordon-Levitt's wounded baddie-we learn more about all of them from the way they dodge a blow or wield a blade than from the shit script. Overall, it's not good enough to lavish your recession-era cash on. But seeing it on TV would suck out out a lot of the limited thrills this movie has to offer. Therefore, GI Joe earns the dubious honor of being the must-see flick at the Dollar Theater. C.

I Make Movie Review-The Hurt Locker

Every war gets at least one great madness-of-combat movie, it would seem-Saving Private Ryan for WWII, Apocalypse Now for 'Nam. And now, for the Iraq War, The Hurt Locker, Kathryn Bigelow's courageous, raw, riveting portrait of a trio of US bomb specialists stationed in Kuwait in 2004, back when the war was not only young but still officially occurring. ("Mission: Accomplished?") If you're going in looking for Spielbergian grandeur, battle speeches, and the like, keep looking. The makers of this blood-boiler understand that this is a war unlike any other-and thus deserves a film style all its own. Following her three main characters-James (Jeremy Renner), Sanborn (Anthony Mackie), and Eldrige (Brian Geraghty)-on a series of missions to detonate this or defuse that, Bigelow skimps on music, puts her camera in close, and lets the action play out. We learn from the jarring opening scene to expect the unexpected-important characters, sympathetic characters, good ones, bad ones-all could be fodder for gun or grenade at any given moment. These characters are on constantly shifting ground-laughing one moment, ducking for cover the next. By playing keenly on our sense of uncertainty, Bigelow gives us a cathartic glimpse of what the horror of war most feel like. Each scene is a mini-masterpiece, building character while ratcheting up the tension at the same time. It's a feat very few could pull off, but Mark Boal's incisive script-shepherded beautifully to the screen by Bigelow-manages to make it look easy. In a nail-biter of a shootout between US snipers and Jihad gunners, we finally have a battle scene to match Private Ryan's D-Day opener for sheer grit and you-are-there intensity. Cameraman Barry Ackroyd, composer Marco Beltrami, and editor Chris Innis work in seamless tandem to vividly capture the tricks war plays-on time, on memory, on behavior. But in a film featuring only three major characters, good acting is the glue that's gotta put whole the foundation together. Luckily, the lead trio scores a home-run on all accounts. Mackie underplays effectively as a noble, sober veteran, and Geraghty gives a tender turn as a reluctant newbie. But in the end, it's Renner's show. In a year where Big Star Turns-from Christian Bale to J-Depp and beyond-have fizzled, Renner turns in the firecracker of a performance we've been waiting for all year. His Sgt. James is a cocky, wacked-out thrill seeker with a smartass smirk and an itchy trigger finger. But Renner digs deep, slowly exposes his characters bruised heart, and paints a harrowing portrait of a man in desperate need of attention-a man who's dammed up genuine emotion and replaced it with ego and unadorned id in order to live with himself. Renner and "winner" (Oscar?) rhyme for a reason. It's a thought-provoking, well-crafted thrill ride-a ride whose wheels occasionally fall off, especially in the overstuffed, ending-after-multiple-ending finale. But it's still a knockout of a movie, made by a director who chooses not to jam opinions or easy answers down your throat. Instead, Bigelow tells her story, and invites you to listen. You really should. A-.

I Make Late Movie Review-Watchmen

Who watches the Watchmen? Not many Americans, apparently, considering this uber-hyped graphic novel adaptation underperformed at the box-office. But DVD's given this flick a second chance-and seeing as this fierce, fiery epic is one of the year's very best, you should too. The plot is a doozy-Rorschach's (Jackie Earle Haley) hunt to find out who's knocking off costumed heroes in an alternate-reality-1980's NYC introduces at least a dozen main characters, spawns a wide web of subplots, and tackles Big Issues ranging from democratic reform to homosexuality. If that last sentence gave you a headache, never fear-while Watchmen rewards deep thinkers with a challenging, brilliant story line (originally dreamed up by temperamental genius Alan Moore), it also succeeds as a compulsively watchable whodunit with plenty of A-grade whoopass gas in the tank. Credit Zack Snyder for this coup de cinema-he's mercilessly whittled down the sprawling novel to its bare necessities, making this a movie perfectly accessible to the average moviegoer, but not neglecting to add a dash or two of fan-friendly, geektastic detail along the way. His previous films have been monuments to his impeccable eye for acting talent, and Watchmen continues the trend-the ensemble cast is across-the-board excellent, turning in commendable performances of great depth and daring. Extra kudos to Billy Crudup, who, along with CGI magicians, miraculously turns his Dr. Manhattan-a giant blue ball of atomic energy with eyes-into the story's most emotionally resonant character. Snyder has also finally found the perfect balance of pop-art glimmer and real-life grain with which to paint this universe-it bursts with invention without ever looking storyboarded. The story-which says just as much about the state of mankind as the state of Supermankind-has been shepherded with great care to the screen by a talented team of screenwriters, cinematographers, musicians (both the brilliantly selected licensed songs and Tyler Bates electro-fueled score fit impeccably), set designers, caterers, you name it. They built the foundation of this world. But you couldn't truly get lost in it without characters you care about-and care you do. It's a tad too long and occasionally overdone, but would you prefer perfect boredom or a flawed miracle? Think about it. A.

I Make Movie Review-"Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince"

They may not fly as high as Carl and co. did in Up, but Harry Potter and his fellow wizards return triumphant in a movie that casts a spell so potent that even the most magic-averse viewer won't be able to resist. First things first: Potterphiles (and Oscar voters) everywhere oughta kiss David Yates's feet. He's found the perfect balance of otherwordly magic and down-to-Earth feeling with which to take the series into its darker final chapters. There's not much plot in the sixth installment of JK Rowling's modern epic-Harry's hunt to collect an old memory from dawdy Professor Slughorn (Jim Broadbent) exists merely to mask the fact that all we're doing here is being set up for the series brilliant, complex final installment (being split into two films). Yates and screenwriter Steve Kloves whittle the Slughorn story down to a subplot, pushing the blossoming teen romances of the tale to the fore. It's a smart move-making what's basically 672 pages of superbly written exposition both fast-paced and personable. It's also a risky move, but then again, these actors can handle it. Props to Radcliffe, whose clever, deeply conflicted Harry will enter the pantheon of Immortal Movie Characters. Rupert Grint's Ron, Evanna Lynch's loopy Luna, Emma Watson's sharp Hermione, Bonnie Wright's fiery Ginny-brilliant, incisive performances all around. Old hands Maggie Smith and Robbie Coltrane still know how to surprise us. Newcomers Broadbent and Jessie Cave-as Ron's squeeze-craft fully realized characters with minimal amounts of screentime. Alan Rickman still makes a fascinating Snape, and Helena Bonham Carter injects her sadistic Bellatrix Lestrange with a shot of kinky malice and a surprising dash of humanity. But the true standout here is Tom Felton, whose Draco Malfoy more than comes into his own this time 'round. It doesn't hurt that the effects, as usual, are stunning; that Nicholas Hooper's score is sensational; or that lenser Bruno Delbonnel gives Hogwarts shadings and darkness and claustrophobia that have never before been implied. But gives "Prince" such punch is its glorious heart. We've watched these characters grow up on film, age and gain and lose and love. The first few films were the set-up-we're inching towards the pay-off now, that place where everything counts double; every hope, every action, every death-yes, death rears its head here, and the effect is wrenching and staggering in ways you don't expect from any film, much less a kid's flick. Is it the best Potter yet? No. Order of the Phoenix is such a flat-out perfect picture that it's likely to remain the crowning jewel in the Potter series. This is not a perfect film. Some of the final scenes seem strangely underheated and sloppy, and Michael Gambon's Dumbledore never hits that perfect note of wizened whimsy that the late Richard Harris had down pat. But this is a damned good film-the kind we need in this day and age. A-

Showstoppers-A Pointless Rant

I'm in Grease right now *JUMPS UP AND DOWN, WAVES*-ask me about tickets!-and there's a song called "Beauty School Drop-Out". In a show full of fun, funky music, this is the song that isn't just content with making you smile. It aims to get you out of your seat, to shake that thang, to clap along, to hoot instead of politely clap-to ride along on the sudden outpouring of crackling energy. This kind of musical number has a name-The Showstopper. Every good show worth it's salt has one-even C-Grade crapola like Seussical has that one song that drives the crowd wild. So what's the Best Showstopper ever? What stands head-and-shoulders over the others to send the audience over the edge every time? Onscreen, there's really no doubt-Jennifer Hudson has the category all locked up. But what about live? Onstage? I really struggled with this, trying to recall every show I'd ever seen-yes, I'm that bored right now. There are a TON of truly great showstoppers. Some find their strength in numbers and sheer choral force-"Circle of Life" with its parade of brilliant "animals" ascending to the stage as the sound of the song builds and builds, "One Day More" with its unforgettable hook and dizzying vocal crescendos. Others are love duets on steroids-"I'll Cover You", "Wheels of A Dream". But the most common showstoppers-from Thoroughly Modern Millie to Company-consist of a troubled woman, left abandoned onstage to let her agonies out in song. It was in this category that I uncovered what I have deemed the Ultimate Showstopper-"Rose's Turn" from Gypsy. The plot is this-stage mama Rose Hovick has alienated her kids. She's out of a job. Her almost-husband has broken off the engagement. If the show is the story of a confused woman quietly imploding, this song is where she explodes-where she lets out her inner thoughts, her deep regrets about being "born too soon and starting too late." It's a song full of key changes, flats and sharps that grows higher, louder, stronger, until that famous final note that seems to come from the soul and not the throat. The entire show we've watched this woman fight the odds and lose. So when she finally declares, that, no matter what, "everything's coming up roses this time for ME!", the explosion of audience approval is potent and palpable. Every actress brings something different to it-Bette Midler a greedy clinginess, Bernadette Peters a sexy vigor, and PATTI LUPONE-who I SAW LIVE IN THIS SHOW-a childlike sense of misplaced anger and need. But the sensation that comes after this number is always the same-the audience shoots to its collective feet like puppets on wires, the whistles and "woo-hoo's!" growing louder and louder as Rose walks about the stage, smile on her face. Often tears, exhilarated laughs, excitable chatter, struggled to catch one's breath. We've been blown away, entertained and made happy in the most primal, simple way-by watching someone standing alone on a stage do something really incredible. That's just my two cents. There are plenty of other excellent showstoppers-"Tomorrow", "Take Me Or Leave Me", everything in between. What's your favorite?