BOOOOOOOO!
1 out of 5
Buy this film: Smart People
Plot: 1
Imagery: 1
Originality: 1
Soundtrack: 1
Overall: 1
Reviews of Literature, music and Films: This is how we escape. Please feel free to agree or disagree with our assessments and write your own in the comments if you wish.
What a horrible little slice of Americana! A teenager, abandoned by her mother and with a father on a funny farm, works full time at McDonald's instead of going to school. The daughter's routine is disrupted by her father's release. He has become obsessed by the idea that there is a Spanish explorer's long lost treasure buried somewhere near their suburban Californian home. The daughter's initial skepticism fades to enthusiasm for her father's crazy quest as he researches and spends his time roaming with a mental detector. Eventually they decide they'll find it under Costco. The daughter secures a job there, gets her hands on some keys, and in the middle of the night they drill their way into a disaster. This trashy glimpse of dream crazed America, in its shallow plot, unconvincing and depressing pretext left us with a feeling of having wasted our time more than wariness of the future. Not convincing but at least a little creative with a decent original soundtrack.
A film about Che could easily be terrible. The image of the Latin American revolutionary is as ubiquitous as those of Jesus Christ, Chairman Mao, and Colonel Sanders, although the only thing it really represents these days is the power of commercialism to milk anything, no matter what its origin. Thankfully, perhaps because his likeness is so saturated and separated from its namesake, it is now possible to look back and see where that image came from. The first half of Steven Soderberg's historical film, which follows Che's involvement in the Cuban revolution (beginning with his fateful meeting of Castro) avoids the traps of glorification and glamorization. It is refreshingly subdued and un-Hollywood. The film's rhythm is as quick and syncopated as the snippets of Cuban drum beats that occasionally appear, never lingering long enough on the face of Che or personal facts for him to bloat into a vague symbol - in fact, the camera tends to keep a distance from him, careful to allow his surroundings and companions to play their parts. In a sense it is not so much about one man as the movement in which he played a vital role. The story of the revolution is interspersed with flash-forwards to Che's 1964 visit to New York as Cuban delegate to the United Nations; his speeches at that meeting, along with an interview, reveal his already gaining celebrity (if not notoriety) and provide framing insights into the questionable rationale of violent revolution.
While the theme of this documentary is important, it offers nothing in the way of information or insight into our oil problems that couldn't be earned from a few minutes of reading or searching around the Internet. A great deal of time is spent trying to fuel fear - we use oil for a great number of things, and we'll sure be sorry when it's gone. The film gives a brief and scattered history of oil productions; a limited look at the relationship between oil, politics, and war; and a fruitless, half-assed introduction to energy alternatives. The handful of interviewees throw out endless statistics and numbers - but their point remains uncertain. In the end it is a propaganda film with an obvious goal of frightening people more than educating them - but, while it repetitively asserts a dire need to brace ourselves for the impending oil crash and the problems it will bring, it seems to suggest that there would be no problem if the world's oil supply was limitless; there is no mention of the environmental implications of burning fossil fuels and the fact that we need to readjust our consumptive lifestyles and restricted thinking regardless of how much oil exists. A better film would focus on the possibilities for alternative energy rather than trying to insight paranoia and panic.
Apparently this film is supposed to be impressive because its story of a broke-down, aging wrestler seeking redemption is very similar in theme to the real life of its broke-down star, Mickey Rourke. Hollywood may love rebirths, but what is so exciting about an actor playing himself - especially when that mutual character is a worthless goon? Of course, the wrestler's pain is the spectator's joy - but the concept of self-sacrifice is a bit far-fetched in this case. The wrestler, known as 'The Ram,' is scarred and smashed up twenty years after his big fight - since then it seems his life has gone steadily downhill, though he's still wrestling and signing autographs. A sudden disaster sends the steroid junkie reeling, and he makes a couple half-assed attempts to put his life back together: trolling after an aging, broke-down stripper who insists she isn't really a stripper; and attempting to win back his estranged, college-age daughter who doesn't want him in her life. Can you guess what happens?
Honeydripper is set in the 1950s in a small, fictional town called Harmony, Alabama where it is cotton picking season in the still segregated south. This simple story played out by unconvincing actors (headliner Danny Glover) in underdeveloped roles is almost so bad it's good. But not quite. The story line, about as original as Fruit Hoops cereal, of a music club that needs saving and a performance that saves it, has the potential to be made compelling by the obvious racial divides, but these relationships are instead glazed over. Between the bland emotions of the characters as they spout their flavorless and unrealistic lines, the camera shots held way too long, and the lack of any original ideas in the plot, this movie is one to skip. If you're in the mood for a musical drama watch The Blues Brothers instead.
India is undoubtedly the star of this film. The dilapidated landscapes, vibrant primary colors, clutter - even the music is mostly recycled from Bollywood pictures. Following on the heels of the weird maritime adventure The Life Aquatic, Wes Anderson's story of brotherhood and convalescence offers all of the same stylization but much less in the way of originality. The brief cameo by Bill Murray seems to be an admission that the film is lacking something desirable. Truthfully, I was much more intrigued by the hectic opening chase scene than the 'real' plot - that of three brothers from a wealthy family (who haven't been together for a whole year!) joining on an Indian train with a vague mission of healing. Owen Wilson plays his usual self, and Jason Schwartzman is a slightly older asshole than he was in Rushmore - the characters as a whole are much flatter than in Anderson's previous, quirky ensembles. Nevertheless, Darjeeling is a pleasure to the eyes, and has its moments of redemption, thanks in part to good production but also due to the setting.