Inspired by those wacky geeks over at TWIT I have decided that instead of putting off and putting off and putting off my vow to somehow market my first book I would let people download and read it for free. Give it a preview, read the whole thing or, if you like what you see, send me some kind words or money for the actual book. Download and read my first book “Thank You, Goodnight” for FREE.
You’re wrong. All of you.
Yes, it wasn’t superb. Yes, there wasn’t enough Venom and there could be a case as to why there were too many cooks in the kitchen. Yes, the script suffered a case of Michael Chabon-less-ness and we paid for it in the form of needless scenes of Peter constantly crying, at one point I wondered if I had stepped into the Lifetime Network version of the film, but, BUT, you cannot take away from the fact that Sam Raimi created a two-plus hour film with enough going on that you feel an abundance of things could happen at any moment.
One gripe could be that Harry shifts allegiances more times than a Frenchman during a war or that MJ gives up far too easily on the man who has seen her through so much and that Venom is a mere flicker when he could, and should, have been one of the only focal points in this film, however, what should razzle-dazzle is the multiple storylines that were in constant motion throughout this picture. You had Sandman’s backstory, Brock’s ascension, MJ’s will-she or won’t-she struggle with how Harry gets her all tingly to Peter’s wrestling with what that black symbiote was doing to him. There was a lot to nosh on, yes, but Raimi conducts himself well enough that you forget about a lot of the film’s faults because there is a coherent narrative within all the battling and brusing.
Peter’s jive talking disco moment? Hilarious in ways that instantly wiped the concern I had that the eyeliner he sported just moments ago wasn’t an indication that this was going to become SPIDER-MAN 3: CURSE OF THE EMO. Topher Grace? One of the best parts of the film; the man embodied raw ambition if there ever was one. In every way Topher was perfectly set up when Peter stripped the black goo (an appalling push-to-the-back of the classroom plot device that was left to languish for far too long without anything done with it until it was way to convenient) but, again, there was too little done with the savage once he became a reality. And what a lame, in every sense of the word, bitch fight between Venom and Sandman? It lasted all of a few seconds, making me wonder if this was supposed to be like schoolboys on the playground who realize it hurts to have an actual fistfight.
One of the things that I believe, though, is that the film doesn’t suffer from its own largess. It doesn’t really suffer, period. What the issue is, though, is that the plot contrivances which are used just feel, well, comic-book-y; it’s all far too convenient for a lot of the things that happen. There are things that had to happen in order to carry things forward and many of them, MJ’s odd forced confession on the bridge that never gets “taken back” or smoothed over when she is finally able to do so and, again, so much bawling.
Seriously, I never knew superheroes could cry so much. Shit, even Wolverine and even Cyclops carried off the death of a hot piece of ass with much more stoicism than we were given. I mean, I get it. Bad things happen, you’ve got to show some some emotion and there has to be the sense that Peter is the moral compass of the whole film but come on.
Aside from all of this, though, you’ve got a movie that is a lot better than people are giving it credit for. I told one of my buddies, Amir, on the way out of the theater that I would absolutely give that film four stars out of five for what it gave me: a star for keeping me entertained for so long, a star for making Venom so damn creepy, a star for Bruce Campbell’s wicked cameo that steals the show and a full star for balancing everyone involved in the telling of a story that eventually limps across the finish line.
The one star it doesn’t get, though, is for its emotional heft. For the reasons that part 1 and 2 resonate with me even now is the same reason why part 3 collapses with its words. The film’s Teflon. You forget it just as soon as you see it but don’t mistake that for a bad film. There are plenty of films that do a worse job than this one did and, at the end of the day, the movie is everything that a summer film should be: breezy, loud, exciting, fun and completely forgettable. We just got greedy after two excellently written installments. This movie just happened to cash in its syllables for some sizzle on the screen. No matter what you think, though, this is everything that this movie could be. That, to me, is what a lot of people are having a hard time accepting.
Not me, though. I’m feeling like indulging in some more of what tasted like a cream puff but satiated me completely.
SUPERBAD (2007)
Director: Greg Mottola
Cast: Jonah Hill, Michael Cera, Bill Hader, Seth Rogen, Emma Stone, Martha Macisaac
Release: August 17, 2007
Synopsis: SUPERBAD follows a pair of co-dependent high school seniors, Seth (Hill) and Evan (Cera), as they close the chapter on their socially challenged high school years. Invited to the graduation party of the year by their crushes Jules (Emma Stone) and Becca (Martha Macisaac), the guys must outwit jealous boyfriends, unruly partygoers and a couple of very bored cops, Bill Hader and Seth Rogen, in order to get the girls and become the social giants they always wanted to be.
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Prognosis: Negative. Some people are down on David Spade.
“Who killed Jesus Christ?â€
“The Jews!â€
Yeah, Spade seems like the kind of squirrelly little sack of annoyance that you’d like to put a boot up of but he did have his moment in PCU where he shined brightly and the moment where he had to answer a litany of questions just to get into his clubhouse was the first thing I thought of when I had to enter my name, birthday and zip code no less than five different ways just to watch this stupid thing. And it is stupid.
To get what I mean I am used to seeing Red Band trailers that were obviously blue in every sort of way, be it for language or the showing of some lady’s mammaries, and deserved a little heads-up notification just in case some wayward wanderer stumbled upon it but this isn’t even Red. It’s a green trailer, just like any other I would have to watch.
This ordeal pissed me off enough to rant and take up the deconstruction space here just to rail against this ostentatious grab at making unsuspecting dweeb think he’s about to see the Holy Grail of all naughty trailers. At least TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE tossed in a little blood.
Now, when I was finally granted entrée into this trailer’s world, thinking that was a lot of work just to see a movie based on an Internet cartoon, but I guess this something else entirely. It was apparent that the low-hanging jigglies of some MILF in training is about as risqué as we’re going to get. Even though it nearly feels like a George Michael interlude for Arrested Development, go ahead and try and tell me that you can’t see the similarity, the odd set-up with George going off to college is a neither really funny or very interesting. It’s weak.
As well, the proclamation that this movie is coming to us via the brain trust that banked TALLADEGA NIGHTS and THE 40 YEAR-OLD VIRGIN doesn’t quite fit, either. You usually want to have that card to go by after something funny happens. As it stands, things are just out of place and I have yet to even realize where the plot is going.
Thankfully, I’m not helped at all by anything that comes after.
In an effort to be as obsequious and as obtuse as possible the trailer goes on to explain absolutely nothing. We’ve got George Michael lying to some high school girl about his drunken escapades in order to seem “coolâ€, a trope that has been there and done it in so many more appealing ways. Even the pedestrian fake id/outrageous fake identity joke, made infamous by WEIRD SCIENCE, REVENGE OF THE NERDS 2 and even (allow me to make the sign of the cross) VEGAS VACATION’s Papa Giorgio did better than the long, unnecessary, unfunny and, ultimately, bad segue for Seth Rogen’s awful jew joke that doesn’t make me want to see the film.
The rest? Well, it’s more of the same tired, old and busted jokes that made AMERICAN PIE a one hit wonder and a straight-to-DVD pariah. If there is something original to be said about this film is that George Michael’s accidental boob punch of some young girl was actually funny. If there was more of that going on in the film I was hard pressed to be able and find it.
Director: Hal Hartley
Cast: Parker Posey, Jeff Goldblum, James Urbaniak
Release: May 18, 2007 (Theatrical), May 22, 2007 (DVD)
Synopsis: A ten-years-later continuation of Hal Hartley’s “Henry Fool”, where Fay Grim (Posey) is coerced by a CIA agent (Goldblum) to try and locate notebooks that belonged to her fugitive ex-husband (Ryan). Published in them is information that could compromises the security of the U.S., causing Fay to first head to Paris to fetch them…
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Prognosis: Caught In The Middle Of The DMZ. Kooky.
In some ways, Parker Posey has developed some rather interesting, here meaning odd, choices when it comes to choosing movie roles.
She’s been an irresistible presence when she’s been in movie roles like PARTY GIRL and BEST IN SHOW but, like a dog that’s just been shown a card trick as it crooks its head in trying to decipher exactly what its seen, her roles in BLADE 3, SCREAM 3, JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS and even SUPERMAN RETURNS makes trying to contextualize her aims in film a real head scratcher. However, you can’t take away her talent when it’s shining like a cop’s blazing Mag-Lite and that’s what comes across in this trailer.
Immediately we’ve got some good information to go off of: she’s a mother and she has a son that is causing her nothing but pain. She has a mysterious husband that has done the kind of work to attract the attention of the CIA, namely Brundle Fly.
It’s a little hippity-dippity as you try and piece together the odd bits of how strange these people’s lives are when you account for the whole but it’s Posey’s projected sense of innocence and naivety that’s the real attraction here. But what’s happening here is all prelude to the exact midway point where some of these discordant threads start wrapping themselves into the main plot: Parker is caught up in some sort of esprionage where she is severely ignorant of what’s happening.
She’s jumpy as all get out, the plucky soundtrack works wonderfully to convey the Benny Hill-ness of what would happen if Jamie Lee Curtis’ role in TRUE LIES was actually tasked with a real mission prior to getting cornered and nearly schtupped in Chet’s double-wide; she’s a dolt in sheep’s clothing.
A positive nod goes to briefly attaching some kind words from Paper Magazine to at least assuage any layperson’s indifference as to whether this should even rate as a rental later on this year. James Urbaniak is used sparingly but it’s odd that his presence barely warrants any kind of context than what we’re given: he’s a dude that is caught up in this all.
What I like about the trailer is that while it doesn’t blow off anyone’s doors by any means it, nonetheless, establishes who Parker is, what the crisis is, how Brundle Fly is incorporated to what’s happening and, by the end, a strange sense that this movie is not your average Cat and Mouse, international thriller.
This is comedy infused with a hint of seriousness and the fact that this movie is being pimped as being available for you to check out from the comfort of your living room on May 18, the day when you can also see it in theaters, makes this a smashing good ad as to what I could spend my weekend doing: hauling ass to the cinema or pushing a button my remote. To have these choices it just entices me further to check it out.
Director: Mike White
Cast: Molly Shannon, Regina King, Peter Sarsgaard, John C. Reilly, Laura Dern
Release: Hopefully it’s already come and gone from American cineplexes Synopsis: Peggy (Shannon) is a happy-go-lucky secretary – a great friend, employee, and sister who lives alone with her beloved dog. But when Pencil unexpectedly dies, Peggy must embark on a journey of personal transformation that is hilarious, poignant and heartbreaking. YEAR OF THE DOG marks the directorial debut for Mike White who has written Chuck & Buck, The Good Girl and School of Rock.
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Prognosis: Euthanize It. Here’s a grand idea: Make a trailer that’s bland enough to be mistaken for a piece of stale Wonder Bread, sap anything interesting from it and then make people want to pay to see it.
This one’s downright awful.
I think that if you’re trying to boast that you’re one of the creative powerhouses behind CHUCK AND BUCK (a jolly comedy that’s dipped in pure pitch) and SCHOOL OF ROCK (a not so jolly comedy that’s pure retch) having Molly Shannon take up the first quarter or so running time of this movie just bawling her eyes out, the kind you don’t know whether to laugh at or feel sorry for, isn’t the wisest of business angles to take.
I mean, we have a great idea that she’s torn up over the loss of her dog, Laura Dern makes a lame attempt at capturing that real absurdist parental cliché, and John C. Reilly uses the word “bitch†in a way that infuses the moment with a little levity but the point of the first half of this trailer is to feel bad and miserable for Molly’s loss; it’s not funny, it’s not really interesting and by the time we really get going with what the point of this is all about I’m damn near ready to shove a pair of scissors in my eyes.
“Even retarded, crippled people get married.â€
It’s about here when Regina King steps aboard this crazy train with all the thunder of a 9-volt battery on the tongue. I’m sure there is some reason why Molly needs to be consoled in this time of misery but I think this trailer misses the larger point: we all know deeply corroded people who, instead of seeking human companionship, use pets to fill their void. I’m not saying they’re any less loony than the rest of humanity but when you get your Christmas cards from these people, usually it’s them all alone with their depressed quadrupeds who’ve been made to wear a Santa hat or some kind of nonsense, it’s enough to make you wonder how else they fill their lives.
Peter Sarsgaard pops up to play the part of an equally odd pet owner and, of course, zaniness blooms between the two of them when they finally find each other. I would think, after Peter popped in there would be some kind of amplification of comedic or thoughtful talent but, instead, this plotline sort of just meanders by us.
There is no hook, no marketing angle to really grab a hold of; no, we’re given a lot of drawn out scenes that may very well work to the film’s narrative advantage within the context of the entire picture but when we’re trying to connect the story with the impulse to buy this trailer lacks in various ways.
One moment, in particular, sums up what happens when Peter and Molly come together as one: Peter admits to sleeping with his dog in bed and that he lets us know he relates more with pets than he does with people. Newsflash to anyone who cares: individuals like this do exist and none of them are nearly as charming as Molly and Peter exude or pretend to be. If I wanted to relive this story in real life I’ll just walk down the hall to Betty, in accounting, whose desk is slathered with photos of her and her Pomeranian and save myself the ten bucks.
Director: Tamara Jenkins
Cast: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Laura Linney, Philip Bosco
Release: September 7, 2007
Synopsis: The last thing the two Savage siblings ever wanted to do was look back on their undeniably dysfunctional family legacy. Wendy (Linney) is a self medicating struggling East Village playwright, AKA a temp who spends her days applying for grants and stealing office supplies, dating her very married neighbor. Jon (Hoffman) is an obsessive compulsive college professor writing obscure books on even more obscure subjects in Buffalo who still can’t commit to his girlfriend after four years even though her cooking brings him tears of joy.
Then, out of the blue, comes the call that changes everything – the call that informs them that the father they have long feared and avoided, Lenny Savage (Bosco), has lost his marbles. And there is no one to help him but his kids. Now, as they put the middle of their already arrested lives on hold, Wendy and Jon are forced to live together under one roof for the first time since childhood, soon rediscovering the eccentricities that drove each other crazy. Faced with complete upheaval and the ultimate sibling rivalry battle over how to handle their father’s final days, they are forced to face the past and finally start to realize what adulthood, family and, most surprisingly, each other are really about.
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Prognosis: It Made My Weekend. Inches away from giving up on this trailer, I was.
Sometimes it’s all about art for art sake and, while that’s fine for some French, impressionistic work that bleeds pomposity, this trailer scales it back and justifies its artistic feel. It’s in the justification and that’s what makes this movie noteworthy. When I saw YOU CAN COUNT ON ME it felt like it drifted more to the side of artistic imagination than it did reality but the subject matter here is made relevant by what many will be dealing with as Baby Boomers creep toward old age. COUNT ON ME didn’t really inform as it did just ramble. There seems to be a real point here.
One of the best things the trailer does here in order to disarm any notion that the film will be a fetid affair of hardcore seriousness is the exchange Hoffman and Linney have regarding the entire theme of the movie without saying it outright; comparing the seriousness of the situation with their ailing father to Bush’s color-coded threat warning system is just funny. It’s amusing and it contextualizes the nature and relationship this brother and sister have with one another. The graphics that display Hoffman and Linney’s name, with the aforementioned color bars, is a nice touch.
And, big ups for the brief and almost blink-you-missed-it graphic that states the movie was at the Sundance Film Festival; the red color matte behind the Sundance graphic takes the joke one step further and it was appreciated.
The siblings meet. They’ve been away from one another for quite some time, Hoffman makes a self-deprecating comment about his own weight, and the sense of place we’re brought into, where geezers get to ride the streets in their golf carts, feels genuine.
The ailing father that brought these kids together feels like he’s serving a perfunctory role, because it’s all about Linney and Hoffman, but the situation they find themselves in is where the real magic starts to brew. The cheeky music that plays behind Philip’s suggestion they stick pop in a nursing home, and Linney’s reaction to the comment, feels smooth and funny at the same time.
Eventually, the nursing home is the option that’s going to have to be the right one and the two trying to connect, like fingers of opposite hands coming together, is less absurd than it is illuminating. I like these people and they’re likeable.
The moment where the two of them play a game of indoor tennis? It lasts all of three seconds but it’s a succinct, telling piece of comedic drama that what follows, their reticence in actually sticking pop in a nursing home, he thinking it’s a hotel, just feels genuine.
In this age of fractured families, ripped apart by ever increasing numbers of divorce, it’s a curious thing to see how those who have drifted apart deal with having to come back together. It has sold itself well.
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