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-.