Best, Worst, Most Disappointing of 2011

01/15/2012

by Glenn Lovell

For those of us who spent a good part of the year in the dark — blinking through as many as four or five films a week – the news that annual ticket sales were at a 16-year low hardly came as a shock. Half the time Hollywood seemed to be in a haze, the other half running scared, cranking out one CG-driven escape after another. It got so bad during the summer months that titles and alternate universes blended. Did I experience that rogue planet in “Thor” or “Green Lantern” … or “Transformers: Dark of the Moon”?

Of course it didn’t help matters that in 2011 we had more alternatives to the tiresome, cell-phone-friendly megaplexes than ever before. I lost count of the number of films I discovered on PPV, a week or two before they were reviewed in the local paper. Add to this streaming Netflix, a boon to adventurous souls looking for interesting indies that somehow went without distribution. (This is how I discovered South Korea’s tricky “I Saw the Devil,” Italy’s rapturous “Come Undone,” and, from 2008, the French-U.S.-Mexican “Julia,” starring Tilda Swinton as the most unrepentant drunk since Nicolas Cage in “Leaving Las Vegas.”)

Not surprisingly, the best films were the smallest, in terms of budget not originality. In no particular order, the titles that reawakened my passion for flickering celluloid:

The Best ... "The Artist"

1. “The Artist.” A clever homage to silent Hollywood, circa 1927, that beseeches, “Open your eyes – and listen!”

2. “Win Win.” A low-budget charmer starring Paul Giamatti at his rumpled best. (The sadly overlooked “Terri” could easily share this spot.)

3. “The Help.” Sure it’s slick, old-fashioned storytelling, but Tate Taylor’s adaptation of the Kathryn Stockett bestseller about segregation in 1960s Mississippi proved the year’s most engrossing melodrama. Expect scads of Oscar nominations, starting with Viola Davis, Octavia Spencer and Jessica Chastain.

5. “The Debt.” A rich, multilayered mystery-espionage thriller that commented on the nature of courage. Helen Mirren and Chastain played the same women separated by 30 years of lies ‒ and a nasty facial scar.

6. “Melancholia.” Lars von Trier’s meditation on encroaching Armageddon, when madness proves the only sane response.

7. “Drive.” A retro crime thriller – Jean-Pierre Melville meets “Bullitt” starring the new King of Cool, Ryan Gosling.

8. “Limitless.” Like Alice, Bradley Cooper pops a pill for the ultimate out-of-body experience. Credit director Neil Burger for the year’s most novel sci-fi allegory, told with just the right blend of humor and suspense.

9. “Shame.” The seemingly everywhere Michael Fassbender in a dark, stripped-down tale of guilt and addiction. Academy, when filling out your nomination ballots, don’t forget Carey Mulligan as Fassbender’s even needier sister.

10. “The Descendants.” Alexander Payne’s long overdue follo to “Sideways” is a quirky dramedy about second chances. George Clooney is wonderful as a preoccupied Hawaiian attorney juggling, very badly, family tragedy and in-fighting.

Year’s best foreign film: Takashi Miike’s “13 Assassins,” a stunning, subversive variation on Kurosawa’s “Seven Samurai.” Does anyone now going stage battle scenes better than Miike?

Year’s biggest disappointment: “The Tree of Life,” Terrence Malick’s most personal and, thanks to a fragmented, jump-cut-happy narrative, least accessible movie. Think the Scopes Monkey Trial battled to a draw. Both creationists and atheists had reason to grumble.

As usual, there were enough bow-wows to fill a large kennel. Ten that barked loudest:

1. “Cowboys & Aliens.” Like baked beans on freeze-dried ice cream.

2. “Super 8.” Spoof or homage? Only diehard Spielberg fans knew for sure.

And the worst ... "Super 8"

3. “The Rite.” Anthony Hopkins’ excuse: “Devil made me do it!”

4. “Arthur.” The old drunk act, minus a modicum of charm.

5. “The Thing.” Prequel or remake? Who cares.

6. “Hall Pass.” We didn’t expect anything of this Farrelly brothers farce and weren’t disappointed.

7. “Dream House.” When it comes to ghosts, who ya gonna call? Not Daniel Craig.

8. “Just Go with It”/“Jack and Jill.” For those Adam Sandler fans craving seconds.

9. “Straw Dogs.” Peckinpah gutted for stock home-invasion thrills.

10.  “Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows.” The game’s afoot! NOT!

Faulty “Tower”

11/10/2011

That strangled “Aaargh!” you hear is the sound of Universal execs bemoaning the lousy showing of their pricey, over-hyped “Tower Heist.”

Following a carefully orchestrated send-off, the Ben Stiller-Eddie Murphy comedy caper failed to secure the top spot at the box office its opening weekend. (Adding insult to injury, it was bested by the kidpic “Puss in Boots” ‒ its second week in release.)

Certainly timely enough ‒ Stiller, Murphy and four others exact payback for a Bernie Madoff-like Ponzi scheme ‒ the $85 million crime farce surprised industry prognosticators with its less-than-stellar showing.

I asked a couple of my film classes at De Anza College if they’d rushed out to see the comedy. En masse, they shot me one of those “Huh? What planet are you from?” looks.

Stiller, Ratner and Murphy

Almost to a one they agreed the film had a tired ‘boomer vibe. Though I liked it, I could see their point. Besides its ersatz “Mission: Impossible” jazz theme, the film is crammed with pop culture references from the 1970s and ’80s, including Steve McQueen, Tina Turner, “Boys from Brazil,” “The Doberman Gang” and, from TV Land, “Matlock.” The casting of Alan Alda as the villain conjures memories of another time-capsule experience: CBS’s “M*A*S*H.”

If the comments by my students are indicative of how today’s target audience feels, producer Brian Grazer, director Brett Ratner and Murphy, who developed the project, would have done well to canvass campuses before going into production.  The interaction would have been eye-opening, leaving the trio to conclude, Hey, maybe the audience we should care about doesn’t want to see this film.

My classes, I’m sure, wouldn’t have minced words. They sure didn’t Tuesday.

“The trailer looks incredibly cheesy and washed-out, like a boring version of ‘Ocean’s 11,’” volunteered Sharif Elrefaie.

“Eddie Murphy gives off a family vibe,” observed Erik Ard. “It’s hard to take him seriously in a crime plot.”

“Eddie Murphy?” shot back an incredulous Roderic Wilson. “He hasn’t been funny since the ’80s. He needs to get his mojo back!”

Of course, “Tower Heist’s” reception wasn’t helped by Ratner’s gay slur during a preview-screening Q&A. Asked “What was your rehearsal like?,” Ratner replied, “Rehearsal? What’s that? Rehearsals are for fags!”

Talk about clueless! Ratner not only offended the entire LGBT community, he demonstrated what my students already knew ‒ how really out of touch he is.

Memo to AMC: Block Phones!

10/20/2011

Memo to AMC Theater Management:

Hey, guys, thanks for those new cell phone PSAs ‒ the ones using the Muppets and those cute flying apps.

They’re funny and creative. I love seeing Fozzie Bear talking on a banana as Miss Piggy shushes him.

One problem: The spots are next to useless.

After sitting through “Footloose” at one of your San Jose houses and watching cell phones pop on one after another like Christmas lights, I’d go further ‒ your new spots are not only useless, they encourage cell phone use during the movie by making a joke of the practice.

Cell Phones: No Laughing Matter

The thinking now among repeat offenders: If management thinks it’s funny, it’s obviously no big deal.

In other words, you’re contributing to a problem that’s grown to epidemic proportions and caused a noticeable drop in movie attendance.

What you should be doing is taking a tougher, less conciliatory stance, like the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema in Austin. Management there lays it out, plain and simple: “If you talk or text during a movie, we kick you out.”

And they do, as an angry voicemail — turned into a hilarious Drafthouse PSA — attests.

Why don’t you follow suit? I’ll tell you why. You’re afraid of offending your worst customers and losing their business. You’ve capitulated by accepting cell phones as a minor nuisance.

Worse, you’re in bed with the cell phone companies. That Kermit and Miss Piggy PSA, besides being a promo for Disney’s new Muppet movie, is brought to us by Sprint, the very folks who profit from cell phone use in theaters.

You need to get control of this problem. Fast. A while back the National Association of Theater Owners petitioned the FCC to follow France’s lead and block cell phone reception in theaters. That effort went nowhere as NATO yielded to pressure from special interest groups. Their tired argument: We need our cell phones with us at all times, in case of an emergency. Phone jammers, they also protested, infringe upon our First Amendment right to act like jerks in public.

If you want to do something worthwhile, AMC, scrub the lip-service PSAs and make your theaters no-reception zones. Sure, you’ll lose some customers. But you’ll win back better ones.

Cry Wolf

10/09/2011

I don’t know about you, but I sit up when I hear about a new survival adventure. I admit it, I’m a sucker for these movies. I like seeing people battle the elements and survive through ingenuity and sheer force of will

Looking back, I can remember savoring “Five Came Back” and the original “Flight of the Phoenix,” about downed planes in the Amazon and Sahara. Others in this sub-genre that spring to mind: “Inferno” with Robert Ryan, “The Naked Prey” with Cornell Wilde, “Man in the Wilderness” with Richard Harris, “The Emerald Forest” with Powers Boothe, and Lee Tamahori’s much-underrated “The Edge,” with Anthony Hopkins and Alec Baldwin being pursued by a particularly nasty Kodiak bear.

Neeson (far right): What price survival?

If one were to analyze our attraction to these movies, it would probably come down to some atavistic yearning to return to nature … or reading “Robinson Crusoe” and “Coral Island” as a kid.

That certainly would account for the more recent successes of “Cast Away” and “127 Hours.”

All of this is a roundabout way of saying I’m looking forward to Joe Carnahan’s “The Grey,” starring Liam Neeson and Dermot Mulroney. The good news: Neeson, Mulroney and four other oil-rig workers have survived a hellacious plane crash. The bad: They’re in the middle of the frigid Alaskan wilderness and a pack of timber wolves have their scent.

Here’s the preview for “The Grey,” which made me salivate like a schoolboy. The film opens Jan. 27. We’ll report back then.

“Lion” Kinky

09/27/2011

Uncle Walt must be rolling over in his grave (or cryogenic chamber, if those conspiracy buffs are to be believed).

Today I called up a trailer at IMDb.com for “Human Centipede II (Full Sequence)” and what did I see as a lead-in?

A preview for Disney’s Blu-ray edition of “The Lion King.”

That’s right, the most popular G-rated animated feature of all time was paired with IFC’s  unrated sequel to Tom Six’s “Human Centipede,” now being promo’ed as “the sickest movie of all time.” In the new installment, a chubby, pop-eyed sadist named Martin seeks to improve on Dr. Heiter’s experiment in gastrointestinal fusion by suturing a dozen human guinea pigs butt to mouth.

I may be wrong but I don’t think this is what “Lion King” songwriters Elton John and Tim Rice meant by “Circle of Life.”

Postscript: “Human Centipede II” — determined to be utterly reprehensible and without a shred of redeeming social value — has been banned in the U.K., a distinction it shares with Tod Browning’s “Freaks,” Brando’s “The Wild One,” Roger Corman’s “The Trip,” Tobe Hooper’s “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” and Wes Craven’s original “Last House on the Left.”

“Banned in Britain!” — the trailer proudly trumpets. You’re right, you can’t buy this kind of advertising.

“Tingler” Terror

09/06/2011

As if we didn’t have enough to worry about …

Word arrived yesterday of an incident that brought a queasy sensation and again raised the question: Are our megaplexes a potential terrorist target waiting to happen?

The Columbus Dispatch reported an 8-year-old boy was rushed to the hospital Sunday after being jabbed in the back by a needle that had been wedged in a theater seat. It was no accident. The sewing needle, protruding from the top of a ballpoint pen, formed a makeshift hypo. Authorities said that the boy, apart from being “a little shaky,“ was fine and that they were testing the needle.

No doubt a teen prank or the work of one very twisted individual, the incident nevertheless points up how vulnerable our nation’s theaters are.

Stuck in our seats, for real?

Who among us hasn’t felt a twinge of anxiety when something brushed up against his leg in the dark of a theater? We are, for all intents and purposes, totally exposed to whatever’s out there.

As far as I can tell, local theaters are only protected by exit signs, smoke detectors, ushers and the occasional rent-a-cop. The National Association of Theater Owners has been surprisingly mute on the topic, choosing instead to concentrate on movie piracy and the closing gap between theatrical openings and VOD. Little wonder Homeland Security has designated movie houses, along with malls and hotels, “soft targets.”

This, despite the fact that theaters in Pakistan and other Asian countries have become easy terrorist targets. Karachi, 2001: “A bomb exploded in a crowded movie theater Sunday, killing at least one person and wounding five others.” Peshawar, 2009: “A powerful car bomb blast at a movie house … killed six people and injured 75.”

At the risk of sounding like an alarmist, the little boy in Columbus reminds us that we can never be totally sure what awaits us in the dark. William Castle, the master of gimmick horror, played on this innate fear with his “Emergo” skeleton and vibrating seats. Last weekend’s stunt, however, left no one giggling. It was like “The Tingler,” only for real.

Woody’s Roma

08/31/2011

During our stay in Rome, we visited the Borghese Gallery, the Vatican … and Fellini’s old neighborhood.

As a friend so correctly noted, one can’t visit Italy without making a pilgrimage to the Maestro’s home turf, a stone’s throw from the Trevi Fountain, where, in “La dolce vita,” the zaftig Anita Ekberg bid Marcello Mastroianni, “Come here!”

When in Rome ... : Allen and Benigni

So, on this muggy August evening, we’re off to Via Margutta, where Fellini kept an apartment with wife Giulietta Masina. We dodge the tourists camped on the Spanish Steps, hang a right at the foot of the steps, and then another right, then a left down a quiet, cobblestone street of upscale homes and galleries.

And who should we bump into? Woody Allen, shooting his new comedy, “The Bop Decameron,” starring Jesse Eisenberg, Ellen Page, Penelope Cruz, Alec Baldwin, Greta Gerwig, Judy Davis and ‒ yes, we’ve missed him in front of the camera ‒ Allen himself, this time as a harried father in Rome to meet his daughter’s future in-laws.

At a Cannes press conference, Allen described the film as a broad vignette comedy loosely inspired by Boccaccio’s “The Decameron.”

Holding court for the small crowd of journalists and onlookers as the 76-year-old Allen takes a break between setups: Roberto Benigni. Benigni plays a man mistaken for an Italian movie star and, like a character out of “La dolce vita,” pursued mercilessly by the paparazzi.

Riding high after solid numbers for the Oscar-bound “Midnight in Paris,” Allen still finds himself a prophet in his own land who’s more respected in Europe than here. Which is why his financing these days often comes from abroad. “Bop Decameron’s” relatively chintzy $25 million budget was raised by an Italian company.

Makes perfect sense then that Allen, nearing the end of his career, should visit Fellini’s old haunts (he drew a crowd even at daybreak at the Trevi Fountain earlier in the shoot). Fellini, along with Ingmar Bergman, ranks high on Woody’s list of favorite directors, with his “Stardust Memories” and “Celebrity” acknowledged homages to “8 1/2” and “La dolce vita.”

Potter Review Sparks Racist Slurs

07/17/2011

Amazing, isn’t it, how movies that sing the virtues of tolerance and human decency often bring out the ogre in filmgoers.

As a daily newspaper critic, I slammed the second and third installments in the “Star Wars” Trilogy and paid the price: I received obscene phones calls and “F … you, Mr. Lovell!” fan mail.

When it comes to our passionate likes and dislikes, we can brook no opposition. It’s either “Side with me” or ‒ horrible gnashing of teeth here ‒ “Die, die, die … the death of a thousand cuts!”

Armond White: Pilloried

I’m reminded of this as I scan the near-rabid response to New York Press critic Armond White’s review of “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2.” White, known for his often contrarian positions, had the gall to not only pan the last Potter movie but slam the entire series in the process, grumbling, “This will go down as the dullest franchise in the history of movie franchises.” (Some pronouncement, especially when you take into account the “Porky’s” and “Chucky” franchises … but let that go for now.)

Not surprisingly, White’s review, excerpted on RottenTomatoes.com Wednesday, ignited a firestorm of complaint. By Saturday morning, there were more than 200 comments, the majority of which, to be kind, were testy. In an occasionally intentional play on words, readers declared White an (Internet) troll and suggested he “jump in front of a moving train.” Brian B admonished, “Go back under the bridge, Armond.”

Other choice epithets: “imbecile,” “pea-brain,” “hack,” “buffoon,” “douche-bag.”

Echoing Rowling’s Dark Forces, these Potter fans demanded White’s head on a platter. Fire him! Blacklist him! Ostracize him! They were clearly outraged that anyone could not champion their hero, avatar of reason and harmony … Chosen One.

Far worse were the racist slurs, evoking memories of the persecutory, anti-Muggle Ministry of Magic in the first half of “Deathly Hallows.” A number of comments alluded to White being black. Ed D. wrote, “Armond White don’t like white people.” Another reader: “If the main character in these films were black, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” By Friday at 5:44 p.m., the conversation had degenerated into hate-speech and the n-word: “F‒king racist …!”

In 2005, upon the publication of “Half-Blood Prince,” Rowling said that it would be great if her books made people talk about racism and bullying but that she wasn’t naive enough to think of Potter as a panacea for “deeply entrenched prejudice … If someone (is) a committed racist, Harry Potter is not going to have an effect.”

Peck-’n-pawed

06/20/2011

Two films, one about to open, the other still on the drawing board.

Both bad ideas.

Do we really want to see a redo of Sam Peckinpah’s ultraviolent “Straw Dogs,” this time pairing James Marsden and Kate Bosworth in the Dustin Hoffman-Susan George roles?

Do we really want to see Tom Hanks (white, middle-aged, righteous) battle Somali pirates (black, young, fanatical) in an announced high-seas docudrama that graphs “Black Hawk Down” to “Cast Away”? If Spike Lee hasn’t already spoken out against this project as a potential minefield of Third World stereotypes,  stay tuned.

In 1971, when we were still in Vietnam, Peckinpah’s “Straw Dogs” tapped into something dark and primordial, the lengths to which an ordinary man will go to guard hearth and home … the bloodlust that’s in each of us, whether we want to own up to it or not.

Not surprisingly, “Bloody” Sam was then reading Robert Ardrey’s “Territorial Imperative,” which, for the director, answered questions about why one man shoots another when he steps over a boundary line.

If the trailer for his long-delayed September release is any indication, Rod Lurie is attempting to goose his stalled feature career with a baldly cathartic home-invasion thriller a la “Last House on the Left” and “Cape Fear.” Peckinpah’s rite of passage, whether you bought into it or not (I didn’t), was deeply personal, as much self-justification as self-analysis. Lurie’s updated “re-imagining” smacks of crass commercialism.

While the basic situation and signature battle cry (“I will not allow violence against this house!”) remain intact, Lurie and company have made a number of telling changes. In the original, Hoffman’s David Sumner is a mathematician on sabbatical in Cornwall, England, at its most foreboding. Hoffman, no one’s idea of a classically handsome leading man, made perfect sense. His Sumner was fussy, nattering, preoccupied. The remake takes place in Shreveport, Louisiana, thereby forfeiting much of the stranger-in-a-strange land paranoia. (The novel, “The Siege of Trencher’s Farm,” hinges on British resentment of brash, know-it-all Yanks.) Marsden’s Sumner, besides being a conventional pretty boy, is a struggling screenwriter. (Like the one who came up with that profession?)

British sex kitten George was cast to type as Amy: trashy, dumb, insatiable ‒ every brainiac’s wet dream. As filmed by Peckinpah, the rape scene devolved into consensual seduction, thereby igniting feminist protest and setting a new standard for screen misogyny.

Bosworth looks to be an improvement. Let’s hope Lurie has been sensitive enough to let her screams of “No!” mean no.

Somehow, given its exploitation trappings, I doubt that this remake will rise to the challenge.

The Tall Man: James Arness (1923-2011)

06/04/2011

James Arness ‒ Marshal Matt Dillon on CBS’s long-running “Gunsmoke” (1955-1975) ‒ died Friday at age 88. Here are some excerpts from an interview I did with the TV legend upon the 50th anniversary of what has been hailed as TV’s first adult western.

Arness: Get out of Dodge!

“Matt Dillon was the kind of guy who’s low-key but stands for what is right,” said Arness from his Los Angeles home. “And he goes about seeing that things turn out that way – with, of course, a lot of people suffering along the way.”

Arness — the imposing (6-foot-7) older brother of Peter Graves — broke into movies by doing bit roles for such legendary filmmakers as John Ford, William Wellman and John Sturges. He was the titular being from another world in Howard Hawks’ “The Thing.” He also appeared as an FBI agent investigating giant ants in “Them!”

From accounts, Arness was so embarrassed to be playing The Thing in full fright makeup, he hid from the rest of the cast, lunched alone.

Thing: Scary start

“Not at all,” Arness said, setting the record straight. “Gee, it was a great break for me at the time because I was struggling to get any kind of job, and that was a picture of course that got a tremendous amount of publicity and turned out getting me other work afterward.”

John Wayne was originally approached for the Marshal Dillon role. He turned it down but recommended buddy Arness, his co-star in “Big Jim McLain,” “Island in the Sky” and “Hondo.” “It was ridiculous that they even went to Wayne,” Arness recalled. “He was the biggest western movie star of all time and they must have known he couldn’t take it.”

Arness earned $1,200 an episode at first, but after the show won Emmys and topped the ratings, he renegotiated for $20,000 an episode and said, flat-out, “No press!” (TV Guide dubbed him the “recluse on horseback.”)

“Once we got going,” he recalled, “my agents were able to rewrite my contract and get me a really good salary that matched the popularity of the show. But when you think of what those kids get today on shows – phew! – it’s unbelievable. But what I got was great for that time.”

Arness attributed the show’s staying power to behind-the-camera talent, like “Bloody” Sam Peckinpah.  ”The only thing I can say is that we had great writers and we always tried for realism … We sort of pioneered the adult approach. These were stories that dealt with universal issues, like betrayal and redemption.”

The series also benefited from Arness’ minimalist acting. He would shoulder his way into a scene and let his physique do the talking.

“Yes, Dillon was a no-nonsense but multidimensional character,” he said. “I didn’t play the character as much as the character played me.”

In the show’s pre-credit sequence, Marshal Dillon and an anonymous gunfighter would square off at high noon. The other guy always drew first, but Dillon’s bullet found its mark.

“They sort of made a point of that, which I thought was right,” Arness says. “As any policeman today will tell you, it’s not the idea of getting the first shot off, it’s hitting your target. Often the first guy that shoots misses.”

Each week, Marshal Dillon was joined by his worrywart deputy, Chester (Dennis Weaver), who walked with a pronounced limp, and the phlegmatic Doc (Milburn Stone) and hard-bitten Miss Kitty (Amanda Blake), who ran the Long Branch saloon. Burt Reynolds and Ken Curtis, who replaced Weaver, would later join the ensemble.

Given the show’s often grim tone – and its fearless tackling of such issues as rape and revenge – it’s not surprising that CBS’ front office had to battle the censors.

The censors, he recalls, “limited us down to so many shootings per show and so many fistfights, but it didn’t seem to affect the show. We kept on ticking; the producers wrote around this new set of rules.”

There was also much conjecture about Miss Kitty. Was she a madam who ran a brothel, or just the proprietress of a hotel-saloon?

“That all started on the radio show, that premise of her running a house,” Arness replied, laughing. “But when you get it on the small screen, it just doesn’t work that well. So they transitioned that off quickly and just made her the owner of the Long Branch.”

A decorated war hero who sustained injuries during the assault on Anzio, Italy, in 1944, Arness walked with a limp away from the camera. But he didn’t complain. “Oh, I’ve got a little arthritis that I have to deal with. I was 6 feet 7 when I started and I’ve shrunk up a little bit. I’m probably 6-5 or so now. But up here at 82 I feel pretty good. I’m sticking in there.”


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