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October 17-23, 2002 movie shorts Continuing
A marked, and entirely intentional, departure from François Ozon’s usual dark fare, 8 Women is a romp, a trifle. With its Gallic all-diva cast and Technicolor hues, not to mention contrived murder-mystery plot and sporadic musical numbers, it’s a tribute to artifice and femininity, and the ways they intersect. The plot is simple, and evidently lifted from Agatha Christie (by way of a forgotten 1960s play): eight women stuck in a snowbound country house whose patriarch has just been murdered -- by one of them. The resulting pressure cooker provides an excuse for catfights, revelations, duplicity, even the occasional tryst. There’s no quarreling with Ozon’s assemblage of divas -- anyone who can get Catherine Deneuve, Danielle Darrieux, Fanny Ardant, Isabelle Huppert, Emmanuelle Béart, Virginie Ledoyen, Firmine Richard and Ludivine Sagnier in the same room deserves the thanks of a grateful nation’s eyeballs. If 8 Women seems at times like an exercise in style, well, that’s probably what it’s intended to be. Only the film’s downbeat ending spoils the mood. After so much dancing on air, it’s a bit cruel to yank us back down to earth. --S.A. (Ritz at the Bourse) Ballistic: ECKS VS. SEVER
(Not reviewed.) A haiku: “That guy’s in it, Dad!” “Antonio? Yes, I know. It’s still not Spy Kids.” (UA Riverview) THE BANGER SISTERS Goldie Hawn loses her job at the Whiskey a-Go-Go and, finding herself unable to work the street as she once did, decides to head to L.A. to ask one-time best friend and fellow groupie Susan Sarandon for a little stopgap cash. When her car breaks down, she hitches a ride with twitchy, neurotic writer Geoffrey Rush, whom she quickly beds in her expert manner, transforming him suddenly into a happy, generous soul. She has a similar experience with Sarandon, whose currently uptight beige family life (with stiff lawyer husband Robin Thomas and rebellious daughters Erika Christensen and Eva Amurri) needs serious retooling. How heartening to see that a haircut, followed by a night of drinking, dancing and perusing collected photos of rock-stars’ cocks, brings on such miraculous self-recovery! Put another way: as everyone knows, it’s perennially difficult for women over 40 to get much action in Hollywood, and seeing the enormously vibrant and courageous Sarandon and Hawn reduced to these schematic roles only underlines the problem.--C.F. (Bala)
BARBERSHOP As The Girl in Barbershop, Philadelphia’s own E-V-E shows again that she plays very well with boys. In her first extended film role (that is, more than the few lines she had in XXX), she holds her own on screen with some very charismatic actors, including Ice Cube, Sean Patrick Thomas, Cedric the Entertainer, Anthony Anderson, Michael Ealy and Keith David. The film, directed by Tim Story, has the sort of charm and easy pacing of one of Cube’s Friday films -- the characters, most of whom work in Cube’s Chicago barbershop, share experiences and jokes (with Cedric, unsurprisingly, generating most laughs). The plot is basic, though more strained than it needs to be, with Cube selling the shop (in his family for over 40 years) to gangster David in the morning, then endeavoring to reverse the decision over the rest of the day, and Anderson and his partner Lahmard Tate wrestling, quite literally, with an ATM they’ve stolen, transporting it from place to place in hopes of getting access to its hidden riches. Cube comes to realize the importance of the shop as community gathering place. And everyone learns a useful lesson.--C.F. (AMC Andorra; AMC Orleans; Cinemagic; Roxy; UA 69th St.; UA Cheltenham; UA Grant; UA Riverview)
If watching Bloody Sunday isn’t like reliving the events in question -- and it would be foolish to pretend that it could be -- it’s still as visceral an experience as you’re likely to get from a fictional film. Shot in jagged, hand-held style, the film recreates the events of Jan. 30, 1972, when British troops fired into a crowd of civil rights demonstrators in Derry, Northern Ireland, killing 13. Writer/director Paul Greengrass, working from Don Mullan’s non-fiction account, leaves some questions open, like the matter of which side fired the first shot, and clearly depicts angry Catholic youths firing (albeit ineffectually) at British troops. But there’s no ambiguity as to the deaths involved, the one-sidedness, or the fact that the victims were unarmed civilians. Greengrass’ approach means those unfamiliar with the tragedy (or who only know the song) won’t be able to pick out most of the characters, although James Nesbitt makes a strong impression as Ivan Cooper, the pacifist politician who orchestrated what was supposed to be a peaceful civil rights protest against the odious practice of “internment without trial.” But you don’t need to develop sentimental attachments to understand the horror of what’s going on -- Bloody Sunday makes you feel every bit.--S.A. (Ritz Five; Ritz 16)
The first single off the Brown Sugar soundtrack is Erykah Badu’s “Love of My Life (Ode to Hip-hop),” and the first scenes of Rick Famuyiwa’s film offer an ode of their own. A series of hip-hop artists -- including Common, Kool G Rap, Pete Rock, Talib Kweli, Big Daddy Kane, ?uestlove, and Russell Simmons -- describe their passion for their art and culture. With hip-hop as its primary metaphor, history and setting, this romantic comedy gets over on its standard plot: Sanaa Lathan, newly hired NY editor for XXL must discover and declare her love for her childhood friend, Taye Diggs, now a producer at a commercial label, even as they both become entangled in other relationships. That is, he marries upper-crusty Nicole Ari Parker, and she thinks about marrying basketball star Boris Kodjoe. Supporting plots include Diggs’ signing of cab driver/ MC Mos Def, and Lathan’s friendship with Queen Latifah (who warns her that she’s “turning into a Terry McMillan character, which she was, in HBO’s Disappearing Acts). Lathan also provides ongoing narration of her efforts to reconcile her love for the ideals of hip-hop and its commercial imperatives, often crass: the example here is a duo called the Hip-Hop Dalmatians (Erik Weiner and Reggi Wyns), complete with spotted fur jackets, who cover McCartney and MJ’s “The Girl is Mine” as “The Ho is Mine.” Jokes aside, the film is earnest about its dedications -- to hip-hop and, happily, to strong women overcoming familiar plot set-ups. --C.F. (AMC Andorra; AMC Orleans; UA 69th St.; UA Cheltenham; UA Main St.; UA Riverview)
Burr Steers’ first feature is populated by extremely quirky characters, most related by blood. Bad mom Susan Sarandon dies in the first scene, attended by her sons, harried Igby (Kieran Culkin) and supercilious Oliver (Ryan Phillippe). Flashbacks recount how they’ve come to this moment, part liberation, part horror show. Participants in this disaster include increasingly incapacitated dad Bill Pullman, wealthy godfather Jeff Goldblum and Igby’s inadvertent girlfriend Claire Danes, who really wants to be sensible but can’t help but be sucked into the eccentric vortex. Though it’s structured as a series of clever dialogue exchanges, striking compositions (shot by Wedigo von Schultzendorff), and dire, occasionally violent vignettes, Igby Goes Down doesn’t feel remote, strangely. --C.F.(Bala; Ritz 16; Ritz Five) KNOCKAROUND GUYS Rumor has it that Brian Koppelman and David Levien’s movie has been knocking around on a backshelf for a couple of years, arriving now in theaters to exploit Vin Diesel’s currently risen star. It goes to show that shelves exist for good reasons. Diesel is the only performer who comes out relatively unscathed, mostly because he plays an early, slightly rougher, slightly less cool version of the character he’s played in his three star-making films (Pitch Black, The Fast and the Furious, and that other one). Here, that character is gangster’s son Barry Pepper’s longtime friend and muscle-when-needed. Pepper inexplicably sends his other friend, a notorious screw-up (Seth Green as a mob kid?), to pick up $500,000; Green loses it, snaky smalltown Montana sheriff Tom Noonan grabs it and Pepper and pals need to retrieve it, lest his father (Dennis Hopper, in a non-role) be killed for it. John Malkovich plays Pepper’s Uncle Teddy, with an unplaceable accent and few snappy lines (to the loser sheriff: “I know you thought this was a manageable situation, but some situations are unmanageable”). Still, Diesel -- whose wardrobe consists of a chest-hugging wifebeater and a chest-hugging longjohns shirt -- has the pithiest line. When Pepper thanks him for his help, Diesel sighs, “It’s just more of the same for me, just more of the same.” Right he is. --C.F. (AMC Andorra; AMC Orleans; UA Cheltenham; UA 69th St.; UA Grant; UA Riverview) MASTER OF DISGUISE (Not reviewed.) A haiku: Oh, Dana Carvey, You were a funny George Bush! Now you're a turtle. (UA 69th St.; UA Riverview) MOONLIGHT MILE As Moonlight Mile begins, Joe (Jake Gyllenhaal) is dressing for his fiancee’s funeral, in her parents’ home on Boston’s North Shore. Jo (Susan Sarandon) and Ben (Dustin Hoffman) are very nice; still, understandably, the mood is somber and tense. The townsfolk give. Jo a pile of self-help books, one titled These Things Happen. The truth is, these particular things don’t happen very often: Diana was shot in an ice cream parlor, hit by a bullet meant for the killer’s estranged wife. Loss is hard any time, but the suddenness and violence of Diana’s death, not to mention the lingering duress of the trial, make this “thing” especially difficult. Such details also make Brad Silberling’s movie fit a little too neatly with the recent popularity of media grieving and death ritualsAs Ben, Jo and Joe try to get on with their lives, they handle their horror, anger and despair very differently. Joe specifically wants to please Ben, by accepting his offer of partnership in business. But soon he starts dreading the future he’s falling into, out of an inability to move, a combination of depression and sympathy. Meanwhile, Jo, so sensible, spirited and generous (and so crisply played by Sarandon), is yet brought low by her heartache, sometimes more visibly than others, and always apparently surprised by her vulnerability. When she learns that Joe has been sneaking out to see a woman he’s met, Jo is momentarily undone, but speaks her piece straight-up, confessing that she has trouble with “this next part, you with another girl.” Moonlight Mile also has trouble with this part, as it stumbles toward its efficient resolution, where everyone can come away feeling better.--C.F. (Ritz at the Bourse; Ritz East; Ritz 16) MOSTLY MARTHA Martha (Martina Gedeck) lives a precise life. The much-acclaimed chef at a fine Hamburg restaurant, she makes perfect food, and sees a shrink because her boss (Sibylle Canonica) thinks she’s neurotic. All this changes when her niece Lina (Maxime Foerste) comes to live with her. Suddenly, Martha’s routine is undone: Almost worse: there’s a new chef hired to helped out in her kitchen, an Italian (Sergio Castellitto) who plays “Volare” and dances while working. While the rest of the plot is wholly unsurprising, Gedeck’s convincingly taut performance and director Sandra Nettelbeck’s preference for crisp, careful compositions help the film avoid both the mushiness of a “food” movie.--C.F. (Bala) MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING Toula (Nia Vardalos) falls in love with Ian (John Corbett) and everything’s just wonderful with her Greek family -- except he isn’t Greek. What follows is essentially Meet the Greek Parents: The large, gregarious family is suspicious of Ian the Protestant and -- gasp -- vegetarian.--Ryan Godfrey (UA Grant; UA Main St.; Ritz Five; Ritz 16)
POKéMON 4EVER (Not reviewed.) A haiku: Live in my pocket, Then attack on my command. Who needs a girlfriend? (UA Riverview) RED DRAGON As Red Dragon begins, we’re invited to titter as Hannibal Lecter, many years before The Silence of The Lambs, serves the brains of an inept flautist to the symphony orchestra’s board; Lecter’s transformation into a cannibalistic comedian is complete. Serial killer movies have spread like mold in the years since Silence, often featuring a profiler who can catch the killer because somewhere, deep down, they’re just alike. Never mind that profiling is a borderline sham science with a success rate about equal to ESP; the profiler’s presence is the rationale for the movie’s existence -- it’s not prurient or seedy or exploitative, it’s about us. Red Dragon, based on the same book that spawned 1986’s Manhunter, steals more than a few pages from Silence’s book; plot dictates that Lecter be found in the same cell where he’d be visited by Clarice Starling years later, but director Brett Ratner (the Rush Hours) seems like he’s determined to copy the infinitely superior film shot for shot, at least in the confrontations between Lecter (Anthony Hopkins, once again) and profiler Will Graham (Ed Norton). The setup is similar to Silence, with Lecter enlisted to help catch a killer (Ralph Fiennes) who’s been murdering families and replacing their eyes with shards of mirror. It’s the most vicious of Thomas Harris’ books -- at one point, the killer bites the lips off a tabloid reporter who’s gotten in the way -- but Ratner’s affectless hack direction abandons any moral sense; it’s all show business, folks. At this point, you’d have to say the series’ true auteur is producer Dino de Laurentiis, who’s steered the films ever more towards cheap sensationalism, to the point where they’d have to climb up to be in the gutter. --S.A. (AMC Andorra; AMC Orleans; Baederwood; Bryn Mawr; Cinemagic; UA 69th St.; UA Cheltenham; UA Grant; UA Main St.; UA Riverview) THE RULES OF ATTRACTION A dark rejoinder to conventional “college movies,” The Rules of Attraction offers little in the way of broad humor or endearing characters, romance or resolution. That’s not to say the characters don’t comprehend the abject nature of their milieu. Sean Bateman (James Van Der Beek) is bored and angry. Describing himself as an “Emotional vampire,” he pursues his prey. The girl he thought he wanted before she rejected him for being mean, self-involved and generally hateful, Lauren Hynde (Shannyn Sossamon), is also looking for a partner. Hoping to lose her virginity before the night’s over, she ignores Sean and instead pretends to be interested in a film student’s pseudo-philosophical rap, drinks until she passes out and wakes to find herself being videotaped by said student, as his buddy rapes her. But their self-awareness leads not to resistance, but immersion. School sucks. From here, the movie goes back in time, Pulp Fiction-style, to the beginning of the semester, before everyone turned so miserably self-destructive. The nonlinear structure might have seemed merely gimmicky, but here it makes thematic as well as stylistic sense. Paul (Ian Somerhalder), Sean, Lauren and her roommate Lara (Jessica Biel) live in a kind of accelerated isolation, afraid to connect and afraid to be alone, afraid to move and always in motion. In other words, attraction respects no rules, except perhaps that incessant self-absorption, inspired by privilege and ambition, leads to missed opportunities, frustrations and frequent acts of violence, of all kinds.--C.F. (UA Riverview)
Secretary is about anxiety, depression, the inability to communicate. It also turns into a romance, when Lee Holloway (Maggie Gyllenhaal), a depressivewith ahabit of cutting herself, gets a job as a secretary for attorney E. Edward Grey (James Spader). Lee works hard, but still, she makes mistakes, typos that Edward marks with a big red pen. Nervous as she is, Lee finds herself liking his reprimands, and starts making errors on purpose, so he’ll call her into his office. At the same time, he’s noting her tremulous behavior, the cuts on her legs, and, no small thing, her beautiful behind. Finally, Edward confronts. One thing leads to another and then, he spanks her. And Lee, bent over his desk, her face red from hurt and ecstasy, has found the man of her dreams. Adapted by playwright Erin Cressida Wilson from a Mary Gaitskill short story, Steven Shainberg’s first feature juggles several attitudes at once: Lee’s narration establishes not only her self-awareness, but also her insights into those around her. She’s no simple victim, but evolves into a submissive partner in a relationship predicated on desire. That her desire might not be yours makes her difficult, even “freaky.” That she comprehends and articulates her journey -- away from her clueless family, toward a relationship that makes sense of her pain -- makes the film’s focus less Lee’s various abilities than your willingness to go along with her.--C.F. (Ritz at the Bourse)
The International Space Station is lofty testament to the wonders of worldwide cooperation in the name of science. It also makes for some amazing cinematography. Space Station, the latest IMAX film, gives viewers the typical IMAXian bird’s-eye view of things -- in this case, life aboard a space station -- with a twist. The film, a co-production of IMAX and Lockheed Martin, was shot by astronauts, who not only master the elements of space travel, but do a very fine job taking pictures as well. All in all, Space Station is one small step for man, one giant leap for audiences.--Howard Altman (Tuttleman Imax Theater, Franklin Institute)
The most successful director in Japan, Hayao Miyazski pursues his visions with unbridled imagination, and Spirited Away is as pure an expression of that vision as we’ve seen. Melding the child’s-eye view of Kiki’s Delivery Service and My Neighbor Totoro with the dark, spiritualist overtones of Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away takes Chihiro, its young female protagonist, into an enormous bathhouse for wayward spirits, where she’s mystified, occasionally enchanted, and often threatened, most notably by the tyrannical Yubaba, who resembles John Tenniel’s drawings of the Queen of Hearts -- if her head inflated to equal size with the rest of her body. Miyazaki never fails to reimagine each aspect of his world; you can get the greatest joy from tiny details. Chihiro’s escapades don’t always proceed one from the other, but let yourself go and you’ll be swept away as well. --S.A.(Ritz East) SPY KIDS 2: THE ISLAND OF LOST DREAMS Juni (Daryl Sabara) and Carmen Cortez’s (Alexa Vega) adventures form the center of Robert Rodriguez’s Spy Kids 2: The Island of Lost Dreams. Their perspective, part convincingly ingenuous and part movie-kid wise, organizes the film’s general view of things: Adults tend to err and children tend to save the world. More cute diversion than thrillsville outing, Spy Kids 2 shows Juni having more trouble dealing with Carmen’s crush on a rival than with any of the island’s ostensible --C.F. (UA Main St.; UA Riverview) SWEET HOME ALABAMA Golden girl/good sport Reese Witherspoon has been calling this lackluster romantic comedy a “return” to her own Southern roots (including her sweet home accent). But Andy Tennant’s film only revisits a pile of clichés. She plays a fancy-pants NYC fashion designer, planning to marry up-and-coming Patrick Dempsey, son of snippy, egotistical NYC Mayor Candice Bergen. But before she does, she has to go home to sort out her secret past. First, she is not the daughter of a plantation owner, but of poor folks (Fred Ward and Mary Kay Place) and second, she’s still married to childhood sweetheart (Josh Lucas), once a good old boy and now -- to her surprise -- turned cute, thoughtful and successfully entrepreneurial. This last allows her to make the right decision (the one indicated by the film’s title) and not have to live in a double-wide. The performances are pert, the characters stale and the inevitable showdown between suitors (and mothers) quite humdrum. Tellingly, the most enthusiastic audience response came not when Witherspoon and her beau clinch, but when her gay designer mentor from the city (Nathan Lee Graham) exchanges meaningful glances with her gay best friend from the country (Ethan Embry): Perhaps that’s the movie that Tennant should have made.--C.F. (AMC Andorra; AMC Orleans; Baederwood; Cinemagic; Ritz 16; UA Grant; UA Main St.; UA Riverview) SWEPT AWAY Boy, I’d hate to be the Ritchies’ marriage counselor? Why would one of the foremost feminist icons of the last two decades marry a man who so obviously hates women? Madonna (who apparently now prefers to be called “Mrs. Ritchie”) starts in this hapless, witless and eventually offensive remake of Lina Wertmuller’s 1974 film, with husband Guy Ritchie (Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels) showing the same predilection for humiliating his wife on screen as he did in the BMW short “Star.” Here, Madonna Louise Veronica Ciccone Ritchie plays a rich-bitch American (with, oddly, faint traces of an affected British accent) who is stranded on a deserted island with the ship’s hand (Adriano Giannini) whom she’s mistreated throughout the voyage. This, apparently, is grounds enough for him to sadistically mistreat her once they’re marooned, making her call him “master” in return for food, and eventually raping her to teach her a lesson -- which she, gladly, learns. That should be enough to indicate that this is the worst kind of “a woman’s a woman and a man’s a man” bullshit. --S.A. (Ritz 16; UA Riverview) THE TRANSPORTER Ex-Special Forces operative Jason Statham transports packages for wealthy, not exactly legal clients. He doesn’t want to know reasons or contents, just destinations and payments. He’s a brilliant fighter (director Cory Yuen is also an action choreographer), phenomenal driver (the film opens with a terrific chase scene), and painstaking planner. When he discovers that one of his packages is a girl in a duffel bag (Shu Qi), his order comes undone. Speedy, colorful and clever, this Luc Besson-produced film sets up Statham as yet another next-generational, hybrid action hero like Diesel, The Rock and Jet Li. The fact that he’s survived his share of Guy Ritchie films doesn’t hurt either. --C.F. (AMC Andorra; AMC Orleans; UA 69th St.; UA Cheltenham; UA Grant; UA Riverview)
TUCK EVERLASTING Unpleasant even for a William Hurt movie, Disney’s adaptation of Natalie Babbitt’s young adult novel more or less rips the guts out of it. Alexis Bledel (Gilmore Girls) plays Winnie, the girl who stumbles on a family of rustic immortals who’ve happened on a mystic tree-stump spring which gives them eternal life. Her relationship with the Tucks is meant to teach children a thing or two about mortality -- Winnie’s final choice indicates that death can be as precious as life -- but the honeyed lighting and hack direction turn the story into a Sunday School special. Sissy Spacek, Victor Garber and Amy Irving are wasted in the process. --S.A. (UA Riverview) THE TUXEDO (Not reviewed.) A haiku: Hey Jennifer Jugs, Jackie Chan's stuntwork is real but your boobs are not. (AMC Andorra; UA 69th St.; UA Grant; UA Riverview) WHITE OLEANDER Bad enough to ensure you never read the novel (by Janet Fitch) it’s based on, White Oleander seems like Warner Bros.’ bid for American Beauty gold, but it’s not even as good as that overheated chestnut. Based on ideas about womanhood that never quite translate themselves into, you know, drama, the story follows young Astrid (Alison Lohman) as she bounces from her murderous mother (a not-entirely-convincing Michelle Pfeiffer) to foster home to foster home, meeting born-again stripper Robin Wright Penn and fragile actress Renée Zellweger along the way. “They don’t destroy us; we destroy them” is the movie’s idea of profundity, though Astrid never shows any signs of following her mom down the boyfriend-poisoning route. Perhaps the idea is that womanhood can itself be toxic, whether to others or oneself. It’s hardly worth figuring out, since the movie’s sappy denouement removes what few teeth it’s shown along the way. Nice puppy-dog stuff between Lohman and Almost Famous’s Patrick Fugit, though. --S.A. (AMC Andorra; Bryn Mawr; Ritz 16; Roxy; UA Grant; UA Riverview) 
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