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Reviews
Turtle Diary (1985)
A Beautiful Story -- Not Really About Turtles
While this story isn't really about turtles, the sea turtles do provide the perfect backdrop for the plot, serving a purpose similar to that of a Greek chorus. The movie is about two wayward souls who bond over their shared obsession with some sea turtles in a English zoo. The turtles are ensconced in a tank that is far too small for them, and witnessing the animals' plight stirs something in each of the two main characters, played expertly by Glenda Jackson and Ben Kingsly. As the two develop a strange bond over their shared sense of personal imprisonment they hatch a plan to free the turtles, assisted by the zookeeper.
In a typical Hollywood production of this story, we would be distracted by an inevitable romance between Jackson and Kingsly, a romance that saves both characters. Or perhaps we would see the turtles bond anthropomorphically with the humans. Thankfully there are no such cheap devices used here. Jackson and Kingsly become stronger and freer as the plan takes shape, but the two only become better defined people by their friendship with each other. As the story evolves, our characters become emancipated. Kingsly's development into a strong, independent man is hilariously illustrated through his confrontations with a slovenly house mate over a dirty bathtub. Both characters develop romances, but not with each other.
It is a lovely story of imprisonment and freedom, well told and beautifully acted. It is a shame this hasn't been released on DVD.
Chuck (2007)
Spoofy, Cartoon Humor that Works
Chuck is a geeky combination of broad humor and cultural spoofs which mix well and make this show worth watching. An smart underachiever opens an email which downloads an interlaced database of government secrets into his brain, and two Homeland Security rivals fight over ownership of him. The main character, Chuck, is appealing and very humorously portrayed by Zachary Levi. The CIA & NSA agents are over-the-top caricatures, played as deadly and ruthless assassins, who nonetheless develop a humorous sympathy for Chuck.
There is nothing realistic in this show, but a lot to make one smile. Chuck works for the Nerd Herd, an on-site computer repair service which drives loudly painted Priuses around the city. Nerd Herd is owned by big-box electronics/appliance dealership Buy More, located right next to LargeMart. In the pilot Chuck wanders through LargeMart, a Sam's Club-like maze of warehouse pallet goods. The cultural spoofs run rampant through the show, some cute and others just pause-your-TiVo-and-laugh-out-loud funny.
The romantic tension between Chuck and his hot bombshell CIA handler is funny and cute, but could be played up for smarter laughs. As it is, it's often a little too serious for a comedy this broad. A more deft comic touch will make it funny and touching at the same time, so here's hoping each episode's writers and directors keep perspective. The show has too much comic potential to ruin it with ham-handed and predictable production.
A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001)
Spielbrickian!
I have heard that Stanley Kubrick had planned to make this his next movie, but put it on hold to create "Eyes Wide Shut." His friend and colleague, Steven Spielberg, completed this project after Kubrick's untimely death. I wasn't certain what to expect from a Kubrick concept brought to life by Spielberg. Spielberg is a master director, but his occasional history of dipping into the maudlin would not seem to be a good filter for Kubrick's cold case studies.
The story is an odyssey about a robot child who has been programmed to love, and it would seem an equally odd choice for Kubrick. The robot, David (played by Haley Joel Osment), finds himself on a quest to become human, and hence fully lovable. This story might have been treated too coldly by Kubrick, just as one could fear Spielberg surrendering to his overly sentimental side.
I was startled to see how well the two styles meshed. Spielberg's emotional infusion delivered a sharper sense of real pain when thrown into sharp relief against Kubrick's classic futuristic vision. The result is a heart-wrenching play of relationships, family, and responsibility, woven into a future of rampant decadence, conflict, and fundamentalism. It's as if Kubrick's originating influence scrapes any potential sap off of Spielberg's emotional treatment, laying bare a raw, disturbing core of human feeling.
The actors all deliver solid performances, but occasionally the different scenes seem to belong to different directors. Compare William Hurt's (per usual) understated performance with Robin Williams' manic turn as a giddy database interface. In a sprawling tale such as this, however, it hardly matters. The story line moves from a harsh, Orwellian (Kubrickian?) drama to the strangest buddy movie I have ever seen, and then leaps even further into the future. The protagonists journey from an astringent suburbia to a Roman-style coliseum, from a high-tech metropolis to a progression of hushed apocalyptic vistas. Jude Law's performance as a robot gigolo is a real treat, and Osment is by series eerie, disturbing and touching. Osment's scenes with Frances O'Connor are particularly effective.
This film will bore those who crave action or a more familiar storyline. For those who can surrender to the film's rich textures and epic narrative, the personal and societal questions it poses are interesting. What are our responsibilities to our possessions? What if those possessions were sentient? What is love without responsibility - is it still love? Where will our evolving science take our culture if it continues to outpace our ethical evolution? Some questions are answered, but most are not; they are left to roll around inside the viewer after the film.
The ending seems inspired by that famous collaboration between Kubrick and Arthur C. Clark, and has confused a lot of people. Hint: there are NO aliens in this movie (as much as one might have doubts about William Hurt). Spielberg's master hand instills a beautiful and effective poignancy into the ending. If one can buy into the blend of high-tech sci-fi and strong, emotional content, this film delivers a nice punch. It is an ambitious fable that is well-told, beautifully envisioned, skillfully acted, and originally rendered.
Trixie (2000)
Rudolph's Signature Odd Timing Doesn't Work
It's been a few years since I attended my last eighth-grade band concert. Sitting through forty minutes of popular music played by semi-developed musicians is always a bit disconcerting for me. I know there are certainly some talented people up there, and probably even a prodigy or two, but the whole experience is tainted by the one kid who can't quite get the reed on his clarinet to behave, or the bass drum coming in just slightly ahead of the beat, or the overall poor intonation of about half of the instruments.
This is precisely how I felt watching Trixie. Alan Rudolph seems unable to pull together all the elements of this film into a cohesive story with the essential rhythm and tone that make the experience watchable. Emily Watson - a stunning screen talent - plays the title character, a self-styled detective of substandard intelligence on the tail of a minor mystery. Unfortunately, Watson appears to have had her usually perfect timing surgically removed for this feature. The same is true for supporting actors Nathan Lane, Dermot Mulroney, Nick Nolte, and Lesley Ann Warren. All these otherwise fine actors behave as if trapped in some nightmare improvisation. I find it intolerably frustrating to watch great actors turning in bland performances.
It is also frustrating because I like Rudolph's screenplay; as a matter of fact, I like a lot of his screenplays, and I know he is not incapable of directing one of his scripts into a decent comedy. (The film Choose Me might be the best example of Rudolph's odd timing and construction techniques working to the script's advantage.) The dialogue of Trixie is riddled with mixed metaphors, which could easily have nudged the film into a charming and gentle comedy. The film needed a fast and furious treatment for the plot and dialogue to work together. Instead, the awkward pauses and stilted scene changes throw a bright spotlight on the inept speech of the title character, making it as obvious as a bad case of acne on a young tuba player. It doesn't make us laugh. It just makes us uncomfortable.
Hollow Man (2000)
HOLLOWOOD STRIKES AGAIN
H. G. Wells must be rolling over in his grave. This is yet one more example of clever CGI and a talented crew being wasted on a lousy script. Gary Scott Thompson (I) and Andrew W. Marlowe are credited for the incredibly poor story and penning. It is mystifying to me how even Marlowe, whom we can thank for the lackluster End of Days, would be able to screw up the enduring fable of the Invisible Man. Thompson's big rebirth into modern Hollywood was achieved by that stellar piece of moviemaking, K-911. Of course these two story-pitchers, who actually might be capable of intelligent writing for all I know, may not be the only problems. The dreaded Hollywood Studio Bonehead Execs, who seem to take over anytime there is a big budget at stake, may have had their own brilliant input, such as `I don't get it!'
The classic story of the Invisible Man involves a driven scientist who devises a method to make himself invisible. He tries out the treatment on himself, but there are two problems: 1) Invisibility makes him violently psychotic, and 2) he can't change back. The story is a rich metaphor for the universal human angst of the permanence of self. When I first heard about this film, I thought the title Hollow Man promised the exploration of this theme. I imagined the character of Linda Foster (Shue) torn between her own drive for scientific achievement and her own ethics. I imagined Sebastian Caine (Bacon) vacillating between his waning human decency and his unleashed primal urges. I imagined complex characters and timeless themes of the struggle between id and ego, with a tormenting, ambiguous ending. Perhaps Foster would hesitate between her old and current lovers (invisible and visible) at a crucial juncture, resulting in some devastating tragedy. No, what I saw instead was a combined rip-off of basic slasher and satanic flicks, with startling CGI taking the top billing. The brutal and graphic killings do not energize the movie; they simply tire the audience. The `surprises' are so overused that none of it is surprising, and I am so sick of implausible action scenes that I needed an antiemetic during this flick. Anyone out there ever survived a flash-fire in an elevator shaft? Oh, well, as long as the flames are only licking your feet you're probably safe, as long as there's no heat produced and the flames apparently produce breathable oxygen. This kind of super-action works as camp, but not as good science fiction. The old and boring slasher contrivances range from `Let's spit up!' to `He must be dead so let's turn our backs!' HELLO! HOLLYWOOD? ANYBODY IN THERE? HALLOWEEN IS 22 YEARS OLD! IT'S NOT GOOD ANYMORE!!!! I am embarrassed for Paul Verhoeven and his cast. They are better than this tripe.
Mumford (1999)
An enjoyable and inoffensive comedy
Not groundbreaking or challenging, but gentle and well-edited, this comedy goes down easily. Lawrence Kasden's films never seem to get too far beneath the skin, but are perfect when one is not in the mood for an abrasive experience. Loren Dean is competent and inoffensive as Mumford, the town's newest and most popular psychologist. He walks an acceptable line as both charismatic and enigma. Jason Lee (I) is hilarious as a hapless, mega-successful geek who hires Mumford simply to be his friend. Dana Ivey as Mrs. Crisp and the underrated Hope Davis as her chronically fatigued daughter Sophie is a close reprisal of their roles in Stanley Tucci's 1998 "The Impostors," (a faithful, madcap tribute to the Golden Age of Comedy which features the pair as the gold-digging Mrs. Essendine and her radically depressed daughter Emily). Medically-knowledgeable viewers should be warned that the psychology of the movie is more for dramatic effect than accuracy, but those lacking a willing suspension of disbelief should be watching documentaries instead of comedies anyway. This light, enjoyable comedy is the cinematic equivalent of a Little Debbie Snack Bar, not terribly nutritious or sustaining, but fun while it lasts.