North Country (2005, Niki Caro, USA): 44
During the midst of my "day job" (bartending to pay the bills until my critiquing ship comes in) I intermingle with a colleague who says of women, some of the most derogatory bon mots. Calling them bitches and ho's and claiming he would like to "do that" when a rather pretty one walks by. Now, I am not the most modern of men myself, but this guy is just a fucking asshole to the nth degree. A real dog's dog.
Why am I talking about this you ask? Well, I will tell you why. As I watched Niki Caro's tale of unequality in the workplace, I thought that the degredation these men wreaked upon these poor women - who were just trying to eke out a living - was beyond believable. I mean really, who would act like this? And then I thought of my co-worker (the dog's dog) and the reality of what was happening inside this film came to a bitter light.
Of course the facts here are so strewn about, we may not be watching a very true-to-life film, the pain of these women still exists, although with such a ridiculously Hollywoody ending full of schmarm and cankorous inanity (more a chuckle than a tear comes to one's eye) the reality that is in there - no matter how well acted by Theron - is trapped inside a vortex of gelastic slaphappy absurdity.
- November 8, 2005
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Paradise Now (2005, Hany Abu-Assad, Palestine): 75
Legendary for its production woes - bombings, kidnappings, threats, most of the European crew fleeing the country, political shoving, attempted murder - Abu-Assad has created probably the single most effective artistic piece on the troubles between Palestinian and Israeli.
Done in an almost cinema verite style (not wholly unlike fellow Muslim auteur Abbas Kiarostami) and given a realistically unresolved ambiguity, Paradise Now comes off as a propaganda piece not for the Arab and Muslim world, and not for the Jewish world, but for the world period. Topical but not pushy, Abu-Assad creates a wall-less expostulation of religio-political ideas.
-November 27, 2005
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Prime (2005, Ben Younger, USA): 53
Any film - any fucking film (that includes, unfortunately for me, both She-Devil and The Bridges of Madison County) - that stars Meryl Streep will be seen by yours truly here. Fortunately for me, this one ain't all that bad. A bit on the contrite side, it is still smartly written (for the reality of what it is) and even more smartly acted by both Streep and Uma Thurman as her would be daughter-in-law.
Rather unbelievable at times (are we to believe that this woman - a psychiatrist - is too naive to figure this all out, or to understand it when it is finally figured out?) just the mere presence of Streep keeps the film going long past when it should have already died a mediocre death.
-March 13, 2005
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The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio (2005, Jane Anderson, USA): 26
On the off chance you actually sat through this sickingly syrup-sweet dewey-eyed ode to Eisenhower era good will, common sense and white bread picket fenced American ingenuity, you will be lucky enough (and that is meant as oh so sarcastically) to witness one of the most horryfingly cliche'd and feeble attempts at making a movie no one really cares all that much about into a possible waterworks of emotional punch - bring in the real-life people the film is based on. After 90 minutes or so of mawkish insipidity - only mildly overshadowed by the much too worthy performance of Julianne Moore as a fifties housewife and mother of ten who makes a "living" entering and winning jingle contests for ad companies - the real life Ryan kids (all ten of them, now middle aged and above) are shown raking through the remnants of their mother's house - or at least the remnants of the set that is supposed to be their mother's house. I'm almost embarrassed for first time director Jane Anderson.
The third fifties housewife role in as many years for Moore, she is the only thing - absolutely the only thing - that keeps this film from becoming the total disaster it most suredly would have become without her. There is no Mrs. Dalloway here, no quiet mourning like in The Hours. There are no Monet-inspired set designs like in Far from Heaven. Here, Ms. Moore is left out in the wide open spaces of this jejune landscape, with only her enormous talent to guide her through the workings - or should I say non-workings - of this trite brand of cornfed saccharine - and let me tell you - she deserves an award for just putting up with the rest of this film.
-November 9, 2005
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Proof (2005, John Madden, USA): 12
I acidentally watched this one evening, long after its dvd release, due to my friend and downstair's neighbour having rather atrocious taste in, well, in everything, and I see now why I passed on this film when it originally played in my local cinema (and I passed on it for five consecutive weeks while it played and played and played and played and played). Dreadfully boring and acted with the emotional depth of a locally produced car commercial (and there is one here that fits that bill to an unpleasantly mediocre tee), Proof ends up being nothing more than a waste of an otherwise perfectly good two hours. I have nothing more to say.
-April 22, 2006
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Rent (2005, Chris Columbus, USA): 42
A film filled with some great (if not a bit cheesy) musical numbers and even some surprisingly not-bad acting (back-handed compliment?), but overall a rather trite little film that would probably be more enjoyed by just adding the soundtrack to your i-pod and turning around and leaving the theatre.
-December 15, 2005
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The Ring Two (2005, Hideo Nakata, USA): 13
There was a point, while watching The Ring Two - about 3/4's of the way through - when the film stopped rolling and the house lights came up. A somewhat oafish-looking usher bumbled into the theatre and told us of a little girl who was sick in the lobby. She said her big sister was in this theatre and she needed her to come out immediately. After approximately three minutes of this usher (oddly emotionally-charged) begging for someone to fess up to being this poor little sick girl's big sister, the affair was left unended and the lights went back down and the film began to roll again. These three minutes were the most enjoyable time of the night.
Imagine the first Ring (at least the first American remake of The Ring), and now take out all the good parts - there you have The Ring Two. An immensly inferior sequel full of cliche's and unanswered questions - but not one legitimate scare.
The worst thing a horror film can do is not be scary, and this one manages to do just that. The only scene worth watching - a scene that is never explained - is a scene involving rampaging deer and poor Naomi Watts' car - and this is only fun to watch for its kitsche value, nothing more.
Full of continuity holes and ridiculous scenarios (ridiculous even for a supernatural "horror" movie), The Ring Two, directed by its original Japanese creator, Hideo Nakata, is nothing more than another in a long line of cookie cutter essembly line teen "scare" flicks spewing forth from the gurgling stomach of Hollywood. Plus, the extremely talented Naomi Watts deserves much better than this.
-March 20, 2005
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Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic (2005, Liam Lynch, USA): 69
Take the brain of a slightly less antagonistic Lenny Bruce, the rudeness of a slightly less kvetching Jackie Mason, the voice of a slightly less shrill Fran Drescher and the body of a slightly less perfect runway model and toss them into a big heaping bowl of fuck you. The result is the lewdly sultry Sarah Silverman and her one-woman show whose jokes range from teen pregnancy to racial stereotypes to rape, AIDS, the Holocaust and 9/11. When Silverman, whose perky-titted bunny rabbit smile plays as part sex kitten, part valley girl, part hostile diva and part shameless provacatour, says things like "So I was licking jelly off my boyfriend's penis when it suddenly hit me. Omigod! I am SO turning into my mother!" or "I was raped by a doctor. Which is so bittersweet for a Jewish woman.", the average first-time viewer may be somewhat shocked - and possibly rightly so - but it is that seemingly innocent smile that brings it all home for me. Someone this cute - and she is cute, even if it is in a rather annoying manner - should not be this rude...or should they?
Full of rudeness and off color humour - including some rather dangerous jokes aimed at the disasters of 9/11 - Silverman is at her peak right here. Perhaps sometimes repetious and more frivolous than the likes of Bruce or Pryor, Silverman glosses over these minor flaws with a final song and dance number where she performs her vagina monologues, but with an extra orifice joining in to make it a trio - a thing that needs to be seen to be believed.
-November 13, 2005
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Schizo (2004, Gulshat Omarova, Kazakhstan): 73
One Critic called this a boring film, visually stunning, but boring (a Critic I have much admiration for, by the way). I must rebuttal my way in here by stating that if this film, from the "new" Republic of Kazakhstan (formerly part of the Soviet Union) is boring, then you must also call Tarkovsky, Sokurov, Ozu and Tsai Ming-liang boring as well. Not that Omarova is in their league, but the sentiment is still there. The quietude of imagery is still there. The magnificent malaise of the most ordinary is still there. The simple breath of everyday life is still there. All those factors that make the films of the aforementioned Directors great are there. Okay okay, maybe this is not really in the league of the Tarkovsky/Ozu group of longingly languid Auteurs, but judging from this particular outpouring of melancholy, he may very well be there someday.
-April 2, 2005
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Shopgirl (2005, Anand Tucker, USA): 70
Going into this film, I had mixed emotions. On one hand I have great respect for Steve Martin as an intellegent writer (a certified genius with a degree in Philosophy) but on the other hand I have little desire for the genre of romantic dramedy. On one hand I love Claire Danes as an actress but on the other hand she tends to pick a lot of bad films to do that acting in. On one hand I placed this film at number thirty on my Most Anticipated Films of 2005 list but on the other hand my gut tells me no.
The conclusion and/or moral to this story? Listen to both hands, because that is about where this film falls. Half droll and half tedious (but smart where it needs to be) the presence of Jason Schwartzman as the "comedy" relief keeps the film from falling too far down the rabbit hole of ennui and/or dullsville.
-December 31, 2005
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The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (2005, Ken Kwapis, USA): 18
Unless one were a teenage girl, one would not expect The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants to be anything but sap-ridden immature drivel aimed at boys, growing up and friendship. Well, me not being a teenager or a girl, I found it just that. Although well acted for the most part - especially from Amber Tamblyn as the punk-attituded of the foursome of friends; a foursome of friends - all different personalities (of course) and different body shapes and sizes who manage to find that nearly beatific "perfect" pair of jeans that fits all of them to a tee.
Sure the concept is ridiculous and the portrayals are hackneyed and laughable, and I suppose the typical boy-crazy, Britney Spears listening, young adult novel reading fourteen year old would somehow enjoy this kind of thing - it still plays as nauseating to the rest of us. As I said, it is well acted, especially considering what little real material these actresses have to work with, but in the end, well...let's just let it end, shall we?
-December 6, 2005
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The Stratosphere Girl (2004, M.X. Oberg, Germany/Japan/Holland): 15
It was like watching soft core porn. There is no real plot - at least not one that makes even a modicum of sense. The acting - with the slim exception of lead Chloe Wenkel as an eighteen (though looks fifteen) year old Manga comic book artist wannabe who finds herself inexplicably entwined in the seedy underworld of the Tokyo sex trade - is nothing shy of late night Skinamax pillow fight panty-raid girl-on-girl movies. With aspirations of being David Lynch and/or Atom Egoyan, Oberg ends up being more Russ Meyer - only without any of Meyer's humour attached. A kind of freefalling hybrid of Mulholland Drive and Exotica, this film layers on thick the ever-present possibilities of violence and/or sex, but never gets to any real conclusion about any of it - including the ridiculously contrived ending. Even the base interest of seeing these actresses engage in a little of that aforementioned late-night genre writhing never quite comes to fruition. It's soft core porn without the porn - just soft.
Chloe Wenkel, who eminates a naive sexual awakening in her amber-laced blue eyes, does have the possibilty of being a talented actress - in the vein of a femme fatale motif - if only she can escape from the nightmares this film would produce on her future bio (beware of the Dominique Swain curse!!!).
-May 22, 2005
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