Monday, January 19, 2009
I MAKE MOVIE REVIEW-The Wrestler
Forget the shocking comeback story of Mickey Rourke-the real shocker is that the unthinkable physical and, for that matter, emotional requirements of this role didn't kill him. Rourke plays Randy "The Ram", a washed-up ex-wrestler who blasts Guns N' Roses, gets off on lap dances and steroids, and saves his own memorabilia to show off at low-budget "legend signings". With his in-the-ring career cut short by heart trouble, Randy must try to piece together the life he destroyed in his pre-fame years, taking odd jobs at deli counters, reconnecting with his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood, fearless as always), and attempting to settle down with a stripper (Marisa Tomei, who, despite not looking the part, acts the hell out of it). Add Randy's freakish addiction to pain and his sharply mounting insecurities, and you've got one of the most complex roles created in recent memory. Better yet, Rourke nails it. His own beaten-down face, with creases so deep they look like proverbial tire tracks, fits Randy's personality perfectly, as does his quavery voice. It's not an in your face performance-like the movie, it's a slow-burner, building and building until it all explodes in a shattering meltdown. As the camera locks onto him like a hunter chasing it's prey, Rourke explodes, literally bleeding his heart out as we watch with horror and nailing every little nuance. This scene alone is enough to secure "The Wrestler" a spot in movie immortality. The thing is, there are plenty more great scenes-the one where Rourke plays video games with a tween resident of his trailer park, the hilarious back-and-forth chat with his deli manager, and, of course, the final scene, where the sport in all its tragic beauty calls Rourke, and he makes a choice that is both insanely suicidal and selflessly redemptive-a choice that, like the rest of the movie, is writ clear as day on the face of one of our greatest actors. Sure, we see a little more of Randy's tough life than we need to (his drug habits are shown in needlessly long takes that are nearly impossible to stomach), and occasionally there are some flubs in logic, but when a movie is this blatantly ambitious, when a film wears it's flawed heart on it's bloodsoaked sleeve, I think it's worth a watch-maybe even worth some Oscar-season honors. A-
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Perspektiven (its German)...and more
More word vomit (I swear, sometimes I think movies like "Mean Girls" aren't scripts but simply treasure trove of snarky but snazzy quotes...).
1) I just had another sensation that can only be called a Guettel-gasm. Yupp, Adam Guettel. The song was "Love to Me"-in it, an Italian boy tries to explain his puppy love for an American woman, doing what he can to break the language barrier. What makes it so ravishing is the way Guettel strips down love to the simplest, and therefore most expressive form. No grand gestures or preppy metaphors hear. "The way you lean against the wind/and do not know that you are beautiful-"-don't you get a picture in your head? Between this and the guitars (they seem to be urging the kid on, keeping the tempo to the beat of his innocent heart), you don't just hear pretty music-this guy is genuinely trying to express to his love just how inexpressively amazing she is. By the time the song ended, I felt like I had found a bottle of all the human warmth in the world (an emotional milkshake, if you will), and swallowed it whole, enamored by the rush of feeling and wanting more. And the best part is this feeling isn't even illegal. ITUNES IT.
2) "Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips"....sad excuse for modern music. "If I Were A Boy"....okay, even I can't hate on it. Damn good video too! Beyonce is a Doris Day, a do-it-all great for the Obama age.
3) I had a random thought: People often talk about how nothing that happens in your youth is THAT important. That teen relationships aren't important. We draw a line in the sand and say "after college you're permitted to find true love, true happiness, the IMPORTANT stuff." Bullshit. I had...in bed last night...(bwahaha)...an epiphany. (Not the Sweeney Todd song, or, of course, the Catholic Holy Day.) A realization. Part of the reason we all do stupid crap during our teenage years is we're always being told that they aren't THAT important and that "its okay, you'll make new friends, nothing lasts from those days anyway." Well if nothing's important, why not make as many mistakes and screwups as you ca? No. Cause if you start to write off so much as a single second of your life off as unimportant, then everything else becomes unimportant. College is the unimportant bridge to work. Work is the unimportant drudgery separating you from home. Home is the unimportant place where you sleep and raise kids, which feels unimportant cause they are off at school or you at work. SEE?! If you start to regard one part of your life as insignificant, then you give yourself permission to write off EVERYTHING! And then, Sonny, you done sucked the purpose out of your existence. And then, YOU become unimportant. Which no one is. I'm sure there are plenty of holes in this philosophy, but I'm just rambling. I'm just saying, even in the toughest situations, find the importance. Not the good, their isn't always good. But find the importance. That's my goal for '09 (is it really almost the end of a decade?). Find the importance in everything I do, everything that's done to me. Probably some epic failures along the way, but hey, they're important too-they make the successes look pretty.
(what
the
hell
am i
talking
about?)
4) I'm gonna ramp up the amount I write. Mainly because after you see a Holocaust film or one where the hero dies young *COUGH (SPOILER SPOILER) MILK COUGH (END SPOILER END SPOILER)*, you realize that what you ultimately leave behind are words. And if you happen to be my grandmother, a LOT of recipes for the exact same stew. God love the woman.
1) I just had another sensation that can only be called a Guettel-gasm. Yupp, Adam Guettel. The song was "Love to Me"-in it, an Italian boy tries to explain his puppy love for an American woman, doing what he can to break the language barrier. What makes it so ravishing is the way Guettel strips down love to the simplest, and therefore most expressive form. No grand gestures or preppy metaphors hear. "The way you lean against the wind/and do not know that you are beautiful-"-don't you get a picture in your head? Between this and the guitars (they seem to be urging the kid on, keeping the tempo to the beat of his innocent heart), you don't just hear pretty music-this guy is genuinely trying to express to his love just how inexpressively amazing she is. By the time the song ended, I felt like I had found a bottle of all the human warmth in the world (an emotional milkshake, if you will), and swallowed it whole, enamored by the rush of feeling and wanting more. And the best part is this feeling isn't even illegal. ITUNES IT.
2) "Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips"....sad excuse for modern music. "If I Were A Boy"....okay, even I can't hate on it. Damn good video too! Beyonce is a Doris Day, a do-it-all great for the Obama age.
3) I had a random thought: People often talk about how nothing that happens in your youth is THAT important. That teen relationships aren't important. We draw a line in the sand and say "after college you're permitted to find true love, true happiness, the IMPORTANT stuff." Bullshit. I had...in bed last night...(bwahaha)...an epiphany. (Not the Sweeney Todd song, or, of course, the Catholic Holy Day.) A realization. Part of the reason we all do stupid crap during our teenage years is we're always being told that they aren't THAT important and that "its okay, you'll make new friends, nothing lasts from those days anyway." Well if nothing's important, why not make as many mistakes and screwups as you ca? No. Cause if you start to write off so much as a single second of your life off as unimportant, then everything else becomes unimportant. College is the unimportant bridge to work. Work is the unimportant drudgery separating you from home. Home is the unimportant place where you sleep and raise kids, which feels unimportant cause they are off at school or you at work. SEE?! If you start to regard one part of your life as insignificant, then you give yourself permission to write off EVERYTHING! And then, Sonny, you done sucked the purpose out of your existence. And then, YOU become unimportant. Which no one is. I'm sure there are plenty of holes in this philosophy, but I'm just rambling. I'm just saying, even in the toughest situations, find the importance. Not the good, their isn't always good. But find the importance. That's my goal for '09 (is it really almost the end of a decade?). Find the importance in everything I do, everything that's done to me. Probably some epic failures along the way, but hey, they're important too-they make the successes look pretty.
(what
the
hell
am i
talking
about?)
4) I'm gonna ramp up the amount I write. Mainly because after you see a Holocaust film or one where the hero dies young *COUGH (SPOILER SPOILER) MILK COUGH (END SPOILER END SPOILER)*, you realize that what you ultimately leave behind are words. And if you happen to be my grandmother, a LOT of recipes for the exact same stew. God love the woman.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Random ramblings
The title says it all. But I've organized my intellectual vomit, as it were.
1) I've started writing music. Lyrics, rather. The music can't make it out of my head because i haven't a shred of music theory in my dense little brain. I wish I did! Consider this a "wanted ad". If anyone (or any two or three or twelve) wants to help me figure out some melodies and such, then you and I shall become the inseparable saviors of Melodopolis (da da da!).
2) On a broader note what's REALLY frustrating me is how awful I am at expressing myself. I have all these grandiose ideas and values and blah blah blah, but when I try to put them into action everything goes kaput. In a way I'm letting myself down. And what I could be. I'll work on it.
3) I HAVE NO LIFE, I UPDATE THIS WAY TOO MUCH!
4) I'm somewhat in love with Adam Guettel...in a non-sexual, very harmonious manner. He's THE future of musical theatre. Sure Jason Robert Brown and Lin Manuel-Miranda are unreal, but Guettel is NEW. With every chord, every soaring melody, every resounding counterpoint, the guy treads fresh soil. Must theatre songs "build". Guettel's music climbs, ascends, leaps. Heavy on strings but light as a feather, a Guettel piece isn't a big, dramatic explosion-it's a series of subtle, precise changes and shifts that move, stop, grow, fight, and give in, just like life itself. Listen to "The Light in the Piazza" and "Hero and Leander". Every note is coated with gold. I hear this guy may be doing a "Princess Bride" musical-how gasmic would that be?! Like a multi-generational "Into The Woods." Maybe even better.
5) On a Bruce Springsteen jag ever since I found 24 hr E Street Band station on my XM. What a writer! What a singer!
1) I've started writing music. Lyrics, rather. The music can't make it out of my head because i haven't a shred of music theory in my dense little brain. I wish I did! Consider this a "wanted ad". If anyone (or any two or three or twelve) wants to help me figure out some melodies and such, then you and I shall become the inseparable saviors of Melodopolis (da da da!).
2) On a broader note what's REALLY frustrating me is how awful I am at expressing myself. I have all these grandiose ideas and values and blah blah blah, but when I try to put them into action everything goes kaput. In a way I'm letting myself down. And what I could be. I'll work on it.
3) I HAVE NO LIFE, I UPDATE THIS WAY TOO MUCH!
4) I'm somewhat in love with Adam Guettel...in a non-sexual, very harmonious manner. He's THE future of musical theatre. Sure Jason Robert Brown and Lin Manuel-Miranda are unreal, but Guettel is NEW. With every chord, every soaring melody, every resounding counterpoint, the guy treads fresh soil. Must theatre songs "build". Guettel's music climbs, ascends, leaps. Heavy on strings but light as a feather, a Guettel piece isn't a big, dramatic explosion-it's a series of subtle, precise changes and shifts that move, stop, grow, fight, and give in, just like life itself. Listen to "The Light in the Piazza" and "Hero and Leander". Every note is coated with gold. I hear this guy may be doing a "Princess Bride" musical-how gasmic would that be?! Like a multi-generational "Into The Woods." Maybe even better.
5) On a Bruce Springsteen jag ever since I found 24 hr E Street Band station on my XM. What a writer! What a singer!
Sunday, January 4, 2009
I MAKE ONE MORE BLOODY MOVIE REVIEW-Frost/Nixon and Revolutionary Road
FROST/NIXON-
Wa wa wee wa. This wasn't supposed to be one of the best movies of the year. Buttt it is. Set in the 70's, it's the story of the interviews TV host David Frost (underrated Michael Sheen) conducted with resigned ex-President Richard Nixon (Frank Langella). What began as a series of puffball chat shows became the trial the hastily-pardoned Nixon never had. If you're an actor, see it solely for Langella's performance, which will enter cinematic immortality. The classic scene where Nixon drunk-dials Frost to intimidate him shows shadings of his lonely soul and stinging self-revulsion-one of the most complex and richly acted moments in movie history. Sam Rockwell, Oliver Platt, and Matthew MacFayden all give great performances as Frost's assistants. But Kevin Bacon (yes, Ren McCormick gets all up in dat political bizness o.0) is the one who should get some Oscar love as Jack Brennan, Nixon's assistant. Bacon makes us see the twisted motivation Brennan had in aiding a man viewed by many as a modern monster-to him, Nixon back in office would mean the rebirth of a conservative crackdown era in which he would have both status and place. Ron Howardd directs with palm-sweating intensity and a keen eye for human drama. The score and production values astound. All-in-all, it's a credit to the film's brilliance that you both love and loathe EVERY single character at different points in the film. This may be the best adaptation of a Broadway play in movie history. A.
REVOLUTIONARY ROAD-
Get a deep cut, sprinkle it with salt, dive headfirst into pie grinder. That's the kind of pain you can expect to feel in Revolutionary Road. The Wheelers (Leo and Kate reunited!) are married couple who hate each other with the relish you can only get at the movies. Frank has given up on his dream, content and happy with kids and a high-paying job. His wife April silently hates him for it. April won't give up her dreams of acting and traveling, and is always looking for a way out. Frank silently hates her for it. Throw in a dinner with a neighbor's lunatic son (Michael Shannon) who can see these truths, and the hates start to voice themselves. That's all the plot there is. What director Sam Mendes smartly does is make you side with a character very early on (I personally sided with Frank), so that when they are hurt it's all the more devastating. Whatever side you took, you picked a losing one-the film ends in an orgy of bloodshed, law-breaking, and bitter self-destruction that both characters end up crushingly unhappy. Oh, and then there is the lunatic son played to creepy perfection by Shannon. "Thank God I'm not your kids. You know, the ones you don't love?", he spouts out of the side of his mouth, drooling and cackling like a 1950's-model Joker. It's scary as hell. So ultimately...the acting is good....production is good....very well-done movie...sharp script that will weigh in your mind after you see it...but the whole thing is so depressing, nihilistic, and bluntly hateful towards its audience, I haven't a clue why anyone would WANT to see it. NO GRADE for this one. It's a well-made movie that's excruciating to watch. I can't say whether or not it's worth your time, because I haven't a clue.
Wa wa wee wa. This wasn't supposed to be one of the best movies of the year. Buttt it is. Set in the 70's, it's the story of the interviews TV host David Frost (underrated Michael Sheen) conducted with resigned ex-President Richard Nixon (Frank Langella). What began as a series of puffball chat shows became the trial the hastily-pardoned Nixon never had. If you're an actor, see it solely for Langella's performance, which will enter cinematic immortality. The classic scene where Nixon drunk-dials Frost to intimidate him shows shadings of his lonely soul and stinging self-revulsion-one of the most complex and richly acted moments in movie history. Sam Rockwell, Oliver Platt, and Matthew MacFayden all give great performances as Frost's assistants. But Kevin Bacon (yes, Ren McCormick gets all up in dat political bizness o.0) is the one who should get some Oscar love as Jack Brennan, Nixon's assistant. Bacon makes us see the twisted motivation Brennan had in aiding a man viewed by many as a modern monster-to him, Nixon back in office would mean the rebirth of a conservative crackdown era in which he would have both status and place. Ron Howardd directs with palm-sweating intensity and a keen eye for human drama. The score and production values astound. All-in-all, it's a credit to the film's brilliance that you both love and loathe EVERY single character at different points in the film. This may be the best adaptation of a Broadway play in movie history. A.
REVOLUTIONARY ROAD-
Get a deep cut, sprinkle it with salt, dive headfirst into pie grinder. That's the kind of pain you can expect to feel in Revolutionary Road. The Wheelers (Leo and Kate reunited!) are married couple who hate each other with the relish you can only get at the movies. Frank has given up on his dream, content and happy with kids and a high-paying job. His wife April silently hates him for it. April won't give up her dreams of acting and traveling, and is always looking for a way out. Frank silently hates her for it. Throw in a dinner with a neighbor's lunatic son (Michael Shannon) who can see these truths, and the hates start to voice themselves. That's all the plot there is. What director Sam Mendes smartly does is make you side with a character very early on (I personally sided with Frank), so that when they are hurt it's all the more devastating. Whatever side you took, you picked a losing one-the film ends in an orgy of bloodshed, law-breaking, and bitter self-destruction that both characters end up crushingly unhappy. Oh, and then there is the lunatic son played to creepy perfection by Shannon. "Thank God I'm not your kids. You know, the ones you don't love?", he spouts out of the side of his mouth, drooling and cackling like a 1950's-model Joker. It's scary as hell. So ultimately...the acting is good....production is good....very well-done movie...sharp script that will weigh in your mind after you see it...but the whole thing is so depressing, nihilistic, and bluntly hateful towards its audience, I haven't a clue why anyone would WANT to see it. NO GRADE for this one. It's a well-made movie that's excruciating to watch. I can't say whether or not it's worth your time, because I haven't a clue.
I MAKE MOVIE REVIEWS-MARLEY AND ME AND GRAN TORINO
MARLEY AND ME
Let us begin with this. Marley and Me has no earthly right to be half as good as it is. Even half of that half, considering my burning, acid-deep hatred for dog movies. I'm a dog person, but watching a bunch of glaze-eyed Hollywood Barbie and Ken dolls trying to out-cutesy the puppy just always turned me off. But this one (*GASP*) is about more than a puppy. It's about modern life, how to survive it and even have a little fun along the way. If you've ever seen a dog movie, you know the story. And you know what's gonna happen to Fluffy at the end. What makes this one different is that thanks to Owen Wilson and Jennifer Anniston, giving shockingly vanity-free performances, is you don't just care about the dog because he's got big warm-chocolate-chunk eyes and a heart of gold and incandescent poop and a glowing, puppy-chow strewn soul. You care about Marley because he's a part of this family, a sibling or a child, and you do care, very much, about the very real lives of this family. Speaking of reality, as the owner of a beautiful, mess-making dog myself, I can say this is the most truthful movie about human-dog relationships EVER MADE. If you're a dog-lover, you'll agree. And like me, you'll bawl openly and freely at the end. David Frankel ("Devil Wears Prada") is making a habit of taking movies that should suck and making them...well...not. Score two for Mr. Frankel. (I can't believe I'm saying this butttt)-A-.
GRAN TORINO
"Get off my laaaaawwwwwwn", Clint Eastwood growls. He sounds tired, shaky, scratchy, old as a broken record-and unequivocally bad-ass. If your reaction to that last statement was "cooooooool", Gran Torino is for you. If you expect "Million Dollar Baby II", then you're in for a royal screwing. The sooner you embrace this as a campy classic, the more fun you'll have at this moviefilm. Eastwood plays a horribly racist Korean War vet who gets caught up in a blood war between his new immigrant neighbors and a brutal local gang (all of whom hang out on their porches and sulk...and sulk. Again, campy.) The movie knows it's gonna get some laughs, and it doesn't shy away from them, making it a highly enjoyable experience. However, towards the end, when things do get serious, the film packs a real wallop in a brilliantly played scene that Eastwood takes on, both in front of and behind the camera, with an eye for irony, beauty, tragedy, and so much more. It's destined to be a cult classic, and it's the rare "bad-ass" movie that draws genuine emotion from you. An anomaly and somewhat of a miracle. A-
Let us begin with this. Marley and Me has no earthly right to be half as good as it is. Even half of that half, considering my burning, acid-deep hatred for dog movies. I'm a dog person, but watching a bunch of glaze-eyed Hollywood Barbie and Ken dolls trying to out-cutesy the puppy just always turned me off. But this one (*GASP*) is about more than a puppy. It's about modern life, how to survive it and even have a little fun along the way. If you've ever seen a dog movie, you know the story. And you know what's gonna happen to Fluffy at the end. What makes this one different is that thanks to Owen Wilson and Jennifer Anniston, giving shockingly vanity-free performances, is you don't just care about the dog because he's got big warm-chocolate-chunk eyes and a heart of gold and incandescent poop and a glowing, puppy-chow strewn soul. You care about Marley because he's a part of this family, a sibling or a child, and you do care, very much, about the very real lives of this family. Speaking of reality, as the owner of a beautiful, mess-making dog myself, I can say this is the most truthful movie about human-dog relationships EVER MADE. If you're a dog-lover, you'll agree. And like me, you'll bawl openly and freely at the end. David Frankel ("Devil Wears Prada") is making a habit of taking movies that should suck and making them...well...not. Score two for Mr. Frankel. (I can't believe I'm saying this butttt)-A-.
GRAN TORINO
"Get off my laaaaawwwwwwn", Clint Eastwood growls. He sounds tired, shaky, scratchy, old as a broken record-and unequivocally bad-ass. If your reaction to that last statement was "cooooooool", Gran Torino is for you. If you expect "Million Dollar Baby II", then you're in for a royal screwing. The sooner you embrace this as a campy classic, the more fun you'll have at this moviefilm. Eastwood plays a horribly racist Korean War vet who gets caught up in a blood war between his new immigrant neighbors and a brutal local gang (all of whom hang out on their porches and sulk...and sulk. Again, campy.) The movie knows it's gonna get some laughs, and it doesn't shy away from them, making it a highly enjoyable experience. However, towards the end, when things do get serious, the film packs a real wallop in a brilliantly played scene that Eastwood takes on, both in front of and behind the camera, with an eye for irony, beauty, tragedy, and so much more. It's destined to be a cult classic, and it's the rare "bad-ass" movie that draws genuine emotion from you. An anomaly and somewhat of a miracle. A-
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