Critical End!

Looks like it's mostly about reading.

Look. We all remember that time we ate too much Mexican before the big meeting. That time we put a huge ding in Dad’s Oldsmobile. And that time we accidentally slept with a Nazi. I’m just saying regrets are a fact of life.

The Reader follows Michael Berg, played in his teens by David Kross (surprisingly compelling) and in his 40’s by Ralph Fiennes (phones it in). We begin in 1950’s Germany where Michael, after a chance meeting, is seduced by an older woman named Hanna (Kate Winslet). The two strike up an affair in which Hanna calls all the shots, demanding that Michael read to her (from classic books he’s studying) before any naughty stuff takes place. Everything’s peachy until the day Michael finds that Hanna has left with no explanation.

Years later, while studying to be a lawyer, Michael sits in on the trial of several former Nazi guards. And wouldn’t you know it? Hanna takes the stand. Yes, getting dumped by your first love can leave a scar, but finding out she was also a card carrying member of the most despicable organization in human history is in a class of its own. While watching the trial, Michael realizes that he’s got a key piece of info that could partially exonerate Hanna, but coming forward would mean admitting that he bedded Mrs. Hitler.

Awww, I can't stay mad at her.

The movie needs me to feel conflicted for it to be impactful. I have to love Hanna, vicariously, as Michael does, while at the same time reviling her for the atrocities she took part in. But ya know what? Nazi. That trumps pretty much everything.

But, wait, the movie assures us, she’s one of those “just following orders” Nazis. She gives testimony that she joined up only because the pay was better than her old job. When recounting how she and her fellow guards refused to unlock the doors of a burning church full of prisoners, she explains that opening the doors would have been impossible. The prisoners would have escaped and it was her responsibility to guard them. So, you know, they pretty much all died. Great job, movie, you’ve convinced me that she’s not evil, just dumber than a box of hammers.

And yet, I actually did manage to get invested in this movie, due to outstanding performances by Kate Winslet and David Kross. Winslet absolutely deserves her best actress nomination. Even though their tryst comes out of nowhere, and its crippling long-term effect on Michael is at times unbelievable, I still believed these characters were in love and felt for them when things started to fall apart.

So we’re left with a pretty straightforward star-crossed love story. All the Nazi stuff is really just window dressing. (Any larger point the film may be trying to make about the way post-war Nazis were treated by society kinda falls apart when the Nazi in question is so outlandishly unaware of the morality of her actions.) As a tragic love story, it gets the job done, though the material never lives up to the effort that the leads put in.

The Reader is a mediocre movie elevated by great performances, but not nearly high enough to warrant its best picture nod.

Rating:
6 out of 10

Not appropriate award show attire.

Yes, folks, it’s time once again for your favorite stars to sit awkwardly in an auditorium for three hours, hoping desperately to validate their careers with an 8 pound pewter statuette. It’s a great time for movie lovers, and Critical End! will be celebrating all week with our thoughts on this year’s nominees, our picks to win, and other Academy-related tomfoolery.

And it all comes to a head this Sunday (5PT/8ET on ABC) with The First Annual Critical End! Oscar Live Blog. That’s right, when you sit down to watch the awards, make sure you’ve got your laptop tuned to this site where you’ll find running commentary by me and Logan for the entirety of the broadcast. Don’t have someone to enjoy the show with? Join us and post your comments! Do have someone to enjoy the show with? Ignore them and hang out with us instead.

Want to be reminded when the live blog gets close? Use the handy form below.

Do you think he really remembers me? Because he owes me 20 bucks.

I’ll be honest with you: This is the first Valentine’s Day in five years that I haven’t had to entertain some form of a girlfriend. And you know what?

I’m happy about that.

For once I don’t have to worry about making reservations at the restaurant with the name that I can’t even pronounce. Instead it’s dinner alone at Denny’s. That’s right, I- oh…

Anyway, rather than an evening out at one of the many anti-Valentine’s Day parties that I always seem to get invited to (I completely dislike that tired theme, especially when all people try to do at these parties is hook up. Doesn’t that go against the point?), I decided instead to stay in and enjoy the 2001 slasher flick Valentine. I think next year I’ll take my chances with the dinner reservations.

Let me start by saying that I was shocked when I looked on the DVD sleeve and discovered that this movie actually came out in 2001. Wasn’t the slasher film supposed to get smarter after Scream dissected it? Oh, and why is everybody dressed like they’re in the early nineties? Okay. Maybe that was just me. Let’s look at the film itself: It opens with a pre-Grey’s Anatomy Katherine Heigl as a stressed college student. Okay, not too bad. I’m with this movie so far. They’re setting up her character and I’m starting to enjoy- no, wait. Is she? Yeah, she just died. Hmmm. Well, okay movie. I can deal with this. Who else do you have for me? Let’s see. A whiny blond, another blond who thinks she’s too fat, yet another blond with an annoying laugh, and…Denise Richards? Movie movie movie. This just isn’t going to do. No, not one bit. Let me just take a gander at the run time here and OH DEAR SWEET JESUS.

Look, I know that this isn’t really a review so much, but let’s not kid ourselves here. Did you really expect me to stay in on the one day of the week that I’m guaranteed to get laid at an anti-Valentine’s Day party and watch some crappy slasher flick that doesn’t even have any nudity in it?

Well, I did and it stunk. I hope you’re happy with yourself.

Rating:
2 out of 10.

Yes, for some reason there is a giant foam Jason Statham head in this movie. No joke.

Although I too have yet to see the first film, I have to say that I agree with Ryan’s assessment of the promotional material for Crank 2: Crank it Up (Not the real title, but it should be). However, I have to offer a few reasons why we will most likely be highly disappointed:

1. The trailer looks like it was shot on a home video camera by a director whose only exposure to film was a VH1 classic marathon of Limp Bizkit videos.

2. Speaking of director, it took not one, but two people to direct this film? Did they credit the guy who went on beer runs for them?

3. And finally, while I enjoyed the “tweak my nipple” poster that Ryan used, THIS is the definite poster that proves this movies worth.

Bottom line: Don’t see this sober. We’ll be there opening day with a case of Schlitz and a bottle of Jose Cuervo if anybody is interested. Ryan will even offer free body shots (or “Statham Shooters” as we like to call them) to the first ten fans.

Sure.

Look, I want to see this, okay? I haven’t even seen the first one. But there is something endearing about how ludicrous this film looks.

If it were asking me to take its premise seriously (Jason Statham needs constant jolts of electricity to stay alive while beating the shit out of the guys who stole his artificial heart…maybe?), I would scoff. But it is clearly an action comedy that is in on the joke of its own bat-shit-insanity.

And not like Snakes on a Plane, which was just a terrible movie with a few half-hearted jokes thrown in so they could claim they were being tongue-in-cheek, but a seemingly well constructed parody of action movies that just happens to also have some legitimately kickass action. Think Hot Fuzz but with slightly less marketing behind the funny.

I will very likely be disappointed. But I’m looking forward to it.

[Via I Watch Stuff]

Plates in flight

Last weekend I was introduced to my new favorite Chicago event: B-Fest. Each year, a dedicated team of film geeks put on a 24-hour b-movie marathon at Northwestern University. Guests are encouraged to hurl comments at the screen MST3K-style, hop onstage to perform impromptu skits, and sleep in the aisles when they start to fade. It’s essentially a 500-person slumber party.

I made it through about half of the program, catching such classics as Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman (the dullest monster team-up movie ever filmed), Murder in the Air (apparently one of a series of Ronald Reagan spy films), Scream Blacula Scream (awful, yes, but man, William Marshall is fun to watch), and Don’t Knock the Rock (Bill Haley and the Comets crusade against the persecution of wholesome and lucrative rock and roll.)

To keep things fresh, the evening is peppered with the most bizarre short films you will ever see. My dreams are still haunted by Comics and Kids, some kind of 70’s anti-war propaganda piece in which a bunch of boys read issues of Sgt. Rock and are transformed into cold-blooded soldiers who brutally murder and eat an innocent group of toddlers. Or actually, maybe they just scare them away and wreck their sandcastle. I did fall asleep for a second. However, my favorite short was easily The Wizard of Speed and Time, the only legitimately good film I saw. I could attempt to describe how it redefines “fantastic”, but instead just watch for yourself:

The highlight of the evening, however, was the traditional midnight showing of Plan 9. While all of the films are verbally savaged by the attendees, Plan 9’s riffs have risen to the Rocky Horror level of audience participation. The audience calls out each time the scene abruptly switches from day to night, when Ed Wood’s chiropractor is standing in for Bela Lugosi, and at every appearance of the inimitable Tor Johnson. And each time the shoddy UFO appears, a shower of flying paper plates ensues.

I could give you my ratings for these movies, but that’s not the point. They’re all terrible. But watching them with an audience of smart, funny people is an absolute blast. So, B-Fest. Awesome. See you there next year.

…

Oh, alright.

Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman
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Murder in the Air
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Scream, Blacula Scream
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Don’t Knock the Rock
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The Wizard of Speed and Time
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Plan 9 from Outer Space
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Moments before calling Crutchy a "no talented gimp" and Ann-Margret "Madam Fishface"

In case you haven’t read the news yet, Christian Bale is officially crazy nuts. Yes, you read that right. It seems that a tape has leaked out of him yelling at basically everybody in his ten foot radius on the set of Terminator: Salvation.

“Salvation” indeed.

Being Hollywood insiders, Ryan and I have heard the audio in question. It was not pretty. We both cried. (Actually, I laughed at first because I thought it was one of those prank phone call tapes. Those Jerky Boys get me every time.) So, why did it hurt so much?

BECAUSE OUR YOUTH JUST DIED.

Ever since we were little we’ve both lived our dreams through Christian Bale. I remember Ryan going on and on about how he wanted to be a street danicin’ trash talkin’ paper boy who longed for Santa Fe like Bale in Newsies. And me? I wanted to make love to Ewan McGregor. You know…..like in Velvet Goldmine……..seriously, it’s in the movie, folks.

Listen, my point is this: There is no excuse for any actor to EVER act like this…unless you have a funny British accent…or the movie you’re in is the fourth in a franchise that should have ended at the second film…or you’re Christian Bale. He can do whatever he wants with Ewan McGregor as far as I’m concerned.

Puffy, ain't it?

Thanks to movies like Reality Bites, I’ve become all too aware that life after college is no fun. This is a message that Hollywood has shoved in our face over and over again with nearly every film starring twenty somethings who can’t quite figure it all out. It’s old hat as far as plot goes: Life sucks. Work sucks. Love sucks. Then you turn thirty and wonder where you screwed up. I’ll admit that The Puffy Chair is that movie BUT instead of making the tired mistake of starting from here, it actually shows us how our characters get to that point…it’s also pretty darn funny.

The Puffy Chair mostly follows Josh and Emily and their turbulent relationship. From the get go, things are falling apart but Josh sees a quick fix in inviting Emily to go on a road trip from New York to Atlanta for his dad’s birthday. Along the way they pick up Josh’s brother, Rhett (a slightly burned out pseudo-hippie), meet a host of other odd characters, and deal with a rather large puffy chair. It’s all very funny and heartbreaking and at times a little too realistic, but these are characters that, although deeply flawed, you begin to like. It’s an investment that pays off as the movie comes to a close.

What makes this film even more fun is the fact that it’s the first from writing/directing brothers Jay and Mark Duplass. Granted, the dialogue can get slightly annoying at times (I haven’t heard this many “dudes” since BaseketBall) and there were times when the direction lacked focus (both literally and figuratively), but it’s obvious that this is really just two brothers having a good time with a camera. For the most part, I think you will too.

Rating:
7 out of 10

Bored yet?

Although I have some pretty strong feelings about the 1951 original film, let’s leave it out of the equation, as it would be a shame to even associate it with this remake. 2008’s The Day the Earth Stood Still is a boring, misguided, highly commercialized, and pointlessly PC big budget Hollywood remake…but, c’mon: What did you really expect?

Where to begin? The cast stumbles through the movie to the point that you’ll feel like you can hear them turning each page of the script. Keanu Reeves delivers some of his best acting since that time he said “Whoa”; Jennifer Connelly proves to us once again that she’s great at crying on cue; Kathy Bates shows up for some reason; and Jaden Smith does a pretty decent job of making the audience wait around for his death scene (still waiting). The one highlight as far as acting is concerned, is John Cleese, who does a wonderful job in his single, three and a half minute scene (which, for reasons beyond me, he received third billing for).

This film also contains more product placements than you can shake a bag of overpriced popcorn at. For example, did you know that most McDonald’s now sell hot tea? Or that Citizen watches keep great time? Or that Microsoft makes a really cool touch screen thingy? At one point I started to wonder if the characters were in some sort of Truman Show spin off.

But enough about all of that. The biggest problem with the film comes at the end when…well, I would hate to spoil the one part of the movie when the earth finally does stand still. Not to mention all of the plot holes and unanswered questions that this leaves the audience with. Hmmm. Well, no time for that, let’s roll those credits! Okay, I won’t lie. That part was pretty good.

Rating:
3 out of 10

Gritty!

I’ve been a Frank Miller devotee since Since Sin City. Loved the arresting visuals and the noir style. And, of course, drawing a comic is a lot like directing a movie, so it’s no wonder that film worked so well, right? Well it turns out having Robert Rodriguez as your copilot counts for something, because The Spirit, Miller’s first solo effort, is lacking.

Sin City was over the top, yes. Incredibly so. But it took itself seriously, even in its funny moments. The Spirit alternates between believing in its fiction (the straight, pulpy crop drama scenes, brilliantly performed by Dan Lauria of The Wonder Years fame) and poking fun at it with winking-at-the-audience silliness (Sam Jackson gets whacked with a metal bar that retains the shape of his face). Either approach could make for a fun movie. Both approaches at once make for a schizophrenic one. Maybe it’s the result of Miller attempting to put his own stamp on another creator’s work, fellow comic legend Will Eisner. Regardless, this inconsistency prevents you from ever really getting comfortable with the film.

The visual style doesn’t disappoint. Miller knows what he’s doing there. There are some odd choices (what’s so thematically important about the soles of his shoes?), but you’ll get your fix of eye candy. Not the least of which comes in the form of the female leads, mostly chosen because they are members of the small slice of the female population that look like living Frank Miller drawings. Still, they’re competent in their roles. I even kinda dug Scarlett Johansson, a rarity for me.

Sam Jackson is a master, of course. He can do whatever the hell he likes and I’m on board. The two stand-outs, though, were the kids who play our heroes in the flashback. Much like in Ghost Rider, I found myself wishing I was watching a movie about them instead (two strikes, Eva Mendes!). The most forgettable was Gabriel Macht, the Spirit himself, but when he barked the line “Somebody find me a tie! I don’t care what kind, but by God, it had better be red!” I bought it.

Probably the one thing in The Spirit that actually feels like an innovative edition to the superhero film is the way they handle the hero’s origin. The first Spider-Man spends half the movie on his origin. Batman Begins is entirely origin. The Spirit tosses us in to the action and dolls out backstory piecemeal as the film rolls along, only revealing all the details toward the end. Nothing new for cinema in general, but a trick this genre desperately needed to pick up. Unfortunately, this can’t compensate for the film’s rocky overall pacing and few truly impressive moments. If you like Miller, it’s worth a viewing, but don’t expect the A game he brings with ink and paper.

Rating:
6 out of 10