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Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Storyteller’s Rulebook #72: Beware the Dark Side (Of Bio-Pics)

Okay, I’ve teased this for a while, talking about bio-pics here, here, and here, but now I’ll get to my real problem with most bio-pics...

When I started this blog, I assumed that the easiest part of the job would be writing the two-sentence plot summaries, but I quickly realized how wrong I was. My problem was that I felt bad if my summary of a comedy didn’t make it sound funny. Or if my summary of a tragedy didn’t feel a little sad. Or if a thriller-summary wasn’t thrilling to read. I realized that it was one thing to simply dissect a movie and then show people the guts, but another thing entirely to produce a miniaturization of a movie’s plot that somehow kept its essence intact.

And this is the same problem that confronts the bio-pic writer: how to capture the essence instead of the innards. Most of the time, biopics are about greatly admired figures. In such cases, the writers need to have their own version of the Hippocratic oath: First, do no harm. The lives of great people rarely match up to the rhetoric that made them famous. You have to ask: do I want to present the most dramatic possible version of this person’s life, even if it makes them look like crap, or do I actually want to capture their appeal?

This is especially difficult if you’re writing a bio-pic of an artist. Artists tend to be total jerks towards everyone in their private life. And maybe all you want to do is make them look bad, in which case you’ll have an easy time of it. But if you want to capture their appeal, you have a much harder job: you have to show why their particular artistic innovation was needed so badly in their cultural moment. You have to show how and why they broke through an artistic ceiling that held back their peers. Crucially, you have to show how awe-inspiring and empowering great art is to its fans—which means that you have to inspire that same awe in your own audience.

Chaplin made Charlie Chaplin seem totally unappealing—How many people left the theater dying to see one of his movies? How many people left Walk the Line in love with Johnny Cash? What ammunition did The Doors give to people who might want to defend Jim Morrison against his many detractors? You may say, well, that’s just honesty for you, you have to show these guys warts and all. But I would argue that it’s not really that honest. Chaplin, Morrison and Cash made art that still inspires and gladdens their fans every day, years after their deaths. If you can’t re-create that achievement onscreen, why make the movie? Show their flaws, certainly, but show them as the ironic context for their memorable achievements.

Compare those to my two favorite bio-pics of recent years: American Splendor and Milk. These biopics don’t just assume that everybody already knows all the good stuff and so now it’s time to revel in the dirty laundry. Instead, they honored the legacies of two great minds, Harvey Pekar and Harvey Milk, with the goal of inspiring others to follow in their footsteps. In both cases, I left the theater thinking about how much more I could do with my own life. This is why people go to bio-pics!

Which all brings me to one of my all-time favorite bio-pics, which is tomorrow’s Underrated Cheesy Movie…

Monday, March 07, 2011

Underrated Movie #110: Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey


More Sadler, more creatures from the afterlife...
Title: Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey
Year: 1991
Director: Peter Hewitt
Writers: Chris Matheson & Ed Solomon
Stars: Keanu Reeves, Alex Winter, William Sadler, Joss Ackland, Pam Grier, George Carlin

The Story: The happy-go-lucky time-travelling slackers return, but this time they explore heaven and hell, challenging death to a series of games, including Battleship, Clue and Twister. Only by making death their thrall can they get back in time to win the Battle the Bands that will make them the greatest prophets of human history.

How it Came to be Underrated: People love to complain about Hollywood’s franchise addiction today, but they forget about how much more ubiquitous sequels were 20 years ago, when every minor hit automatically got one. According to the old rules, we would now be seeing Wedding Crashers 6 and Mean Girls 3. The vast majority of those sequels were truly terrible…

Why It’s Cheesy Fun:

  1. …but something strange happened in the summer of 1991, as the sequel era was dwindling. Some lame comedies from previous years got unnecessary sequels that turned out to be much better, weirder, and more subversive than the originals. Directors were learning to take advantage of the laissez-faire approach studios took to sequels and use that freedom to make truly bizarre personal visions. Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure is unwatchable today, but its sequel is shockingly fun and beautifully absurd..
  2. Reeves and Winter are affably fun, but their characters are hindered by having indistinguishable personalities. What gives this movie its bite is Sadler’s absolutely daffy send-up of Bergman’s version of “Death” from The Seventh Seal, which he plays here as a hapless Swedish sad-sack deity. What on earth happened to Sadler’s career? He had a great run for a few years, then disappeared into minor TV roles shortly after his best-remembered role in Shawshank Redemption. At the very least he should be carrying his own CSI vehicle by now... and this role proves that he could have done anything.
  3. This is a great example of how even the zaniest movies need to tap into real emotions, against all odds—the movie couldn’t be more archly tongue-in-cheek, but the visions of hell Bill and Ted are confronted with nevertheless tap into very real, unique-but-universal anxieties.
  4. Re-watching this, I realized how dearly I miss the pre-CGI world. This movie has a super-low budget, but it still gamely swings for the rafters with wildly ambitious art direction that take us all the way through the full limits of human imagination, not constructed out of airless, hollow pixels, but out of actual sets, tangible props and practical effects that have weight and heft and shadows, allowing the actors to really interact with them in unexpected ways. It’s so much more fun to watch the movie knowing that, for one crazy month, all of this stuff actually existed!
  5. For instance, they make it clear in the featurette that this effect was achieved by actually blue-ing up their skin, hair and clothes. Isn’t that fun?

If You Like This, You Should Also Check Out: Two other better-than-the-original sequels that I liked in 1991 were Addams Family Values and Hot Shots Part Deux (Bi-Winning!)

How Available Is It?: It’s on a bare-bones DVD with a fun little contemporary featurette.

Today’s Post Was Brought To You By: Death Picks the Beauty Queen!

Sunday, March 06, 2011

Underrated Movie #109: Tales from the Crypt Presents: Demon Knight


The Long-Awaited Return of Cheesy Movies Week:
Title: Tales from the Crypt Presents: Demon Knight
Year: 1994
Director: Ernest Dickerson
Writers: Ethan Reiff & Cyrus Voris & Mark Bishop
Stars: William Sadler, Billy Zane, Jada Pinkett, Brenda Backe, CCH Pounder, Thomas Haden Church, Gary Farmer

The Story: A wanderer who is being chased by a mysterious hunter takes refuge in a desert motel where he recruits the locals to make a last stand against an army of demons.

How it Came to be Underrated: I rarely cover horror movies on this blog, not because I don’t like them, but because they don’t get to be underrated for very long. Take a movie like Evil Dead 2, which seems to be the biggest inspiration for this movie. Horror enthusiasts, always hungry to tell each other about anything good, transformed it from a minor cult classic into a household name very quickly. So why has this one remained underrated? Because of its tangential association with HBO’s lame “Tales of the Crypt” TV show, which squandered the name of the legendary EC comics by transforming their grim horror into campy comedy.

Why It’s Cheesy Fun:

  1. Sure enough, this movie begins with a crappy intro by the puppet Crypt Keeper from the TV show, which is not directed by Dickerson. Lucky you, on DVD you can just skip the first 8 minutes of the movie and totally ignore that whole element. Then you just have a lean and mean little 80-minute horror movie left, which doesn’t need to be a second longer.
  2. Ernest Dickerson was the first major black cinematographer and when he switched to directing, he was happy to bring a subversive racial sensibility to the B-movies he took on. Usually black people die first in horror movies, but even in ones where they become the survivors (Night of the Living Dead, Anaconda) there’s always an implication that they survive because they’re somehow inherently more moral, which still defines everybody according to race. This movie avoids both problems: the last survivor just happens to be most kick-ass character.
  3. What sinks most horror movies are the performances. I suppose Dickerson was able to use his rep to get a great cast here, headlined by always great tough-guy William Sadler and Billy Zane at his strutting, cocky, charismatic best. Pounder, Pinkett, Church and Farmer all do dependably fine work too.
  4. I always wince when fantasy or horror stories define good as the Light and evil as the Darkness, but this one makes it work by first defining the villains’ earthly manifestations as clearly understood physical challenges for our heroes with fixed rules and limits that allow us to predict what might happen next. The “blood seals” they put on the doors let us always see where the safe spaces are, and we get to see how and why that space keeps shrinking throughout the movie, which is always essential. No questions here of “why don’t they just…”
  5. I also firmly believe that all horror movies need an element of psychological temptation, not just physical threats, and this movie juggles the two well. Horror writers do well to remember that the thing we’re most afraid of is ourselves. (But don’t worry, there’s still enough gore for the gorehounds too)

If You Like This, You Should Also Check Out: Zane was also underrated in the uber-cheesy adaptation of The Phantom. Sadler was also underrated in… tomorrow’s movie! That’s right, it’s a two-day Sadler-fest!

How Available Is It?: It’s got a nice-enough bare-bones DVD

Today’s Post Was Brought To You By: Danger!

Thursday, March 03, 2011

Storyteller’s Rulebook #71: Screw-Ups Don't Screw Up All Day Long


One of the biggest mistakes that many indie movies make is to pile on the pathos with a shovel. In the interest of telling a “warts and all” story, they actually present a comically exaggerated amount of gloom and doom. The two worst movies I saw last year (well, okay, not counting Salt) were Greenberg and Big Fan. The protagonists of these movies are such extreme screw-ups that they literally can’t do anything right… Itchy, twitchy, belligerent, incapable even of pursuing their own self-interest when opportunity is staring them in the face...

Do such people exist in real life? Yes, but they usually end up dead or locked up by the time they’re thirty. You just can’t screw up all the time and get through your day. More importantly, such characters just aren’t compelling enough to hold a whole movie. It’s impossible to care very much about a main character who won’t meet you halfway.

The most disappointing thing about Big Fan is that it was written and directed by Robert Siegel, so I had higher hopes. In the time it took him to make the movie, he wrote a follow-up script that wound up getting made by another director and beating the first script to the screen. And there’s no wonder it did, because it was a thousand times better…

What I loved most about The Wrestler was how well it captured the tragedy of the functional screw-up… the stand-up guy who is clever and charming, but nevertheless persists in screwing up 5% of the time, which is enough to ruin his life. How many decisions do you make in a day? What if every 20th decision was self-destructive? That’s all it would take, isn’t it? The Wrestler is tragic because he’s screwing up a good thing. The heroes of Greenberg and Big Fan aren’t tragic at all, because they’re just screwing up lives that were already hopelessly hapless.

Occasionally, you can create a total screw-up like Christian Bale in The Fighter that is still a believable and compelling character, but he’s the exception that proves the rule. It’s vital that he is not the main character, because, even though we find him magnetic, we just can’t stand to be with him for more than a few scenes at a time. For most of the movie, he’s the antagonist-with-a-heart-of-gold, which is a far more poignant use of such characters. I often sing the praises of big personalities on this blog, but with some types of characters, it’s good to remember that a little goes a long way.

Tuesday, March 01, 2011

Underrated Movies: Special Guest Picks #15

Today is the first day of Women’s history month and it’s been about a year since we’ve heard from any lady-like special guests on this blog, but that all ends today! We’ve already heard from Kseniya Yarosh’s not-insignificant-other Matt Carman and now she’s here to grace us with her own findings, including some hardcore heroines. Take it away, Kseniya...

I’m a girl with muddled tastes. Typical romantic comedies bore me. Melodramatic tales of female bonding confuse me. I like warped, sloppy, badly made movies like Grease 2, Road House and The Stuff. But that’s not all I like. I am still fascinated by gender, sexuality and romance and much of my film-watching has been devoted to finding relatable, interesting female role models and revealing illustrations of intimate relationships. The following under-the-radar films have felt especially significant when I think of women in the movies:
Hour of the Star (1985)
Directed by: Suzana Amaral
Written by: Suzana Amaral, Alfredo Oroz (based on a novel by Clarice Lispector)

Hour of the Star is like a sadder, more authentic 1980’s Brazilian Napoleon Dynamite. About a girl. Tragic and funny, it’s filled with quotable lines (“I’m a typist, a virgin, and I like Coca-Cola”), cringe-inducing scenes of courtship and odd, ugly-interesting faces. Focused on two outsiders--a country girl who moves to Sao Paolo and her boasting, dopey older boyfriend--the film explores the absurdities of love, life and adulthood.

Some might see the film as mocking an uncultured girl and the small pleasures she takes in eating hot dogs and riding the metro on Sundays. I see it as portraying a normal though slightly naive individual navigating a world that is usually reserved for movie people too clever and/or pretty to identify with. Movie romances tend to be too easy--the melodrama too calculated and quickly undone. But what do you do when you’re ordinary?

Heartburn (1986)
Directed by: Mike Nichols
Written by: Nora Ephron (novel/screenplay)

I didn’t expect to like Heartburn when I rented it. The Nora Ephron films I’d seen previously (When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, You’ve Got Mail) were too cutesy and superficial. And, anyway, punny titles are never a good sign. Nonetheless, I was curious to see Meryl Streep in an earlier role, and I was not disappointed. The film is presently one of my favorite romantic comedies of all time.

It has some flaws (like the fact that two journalists who are never seen writing can afford to buy and renovate a house despite being ‘poor’), but overall the story is intelligent and realistic. Unlike with Ephron’s other films, there’s uncertainty about wishing these characters to be together. Not because they don’t love each other, but because some couples just aren’t meant to be.

Possibly my favorite scene comes early on, the day Rachel (Meryl Streep) and Mark (Jack Nicholson) are set to get married. Rachel, doubtful about the wedding, has a number of clumsy, anxious conversations with her friends, family and therapist. Eventually, Mark comes in and calmly asks her if she knows where her shoes are. She doesn’t know what he means. His responds with: “I do. I know where your shoes are and I know everything else about you, and this is only the beginning.” Who knew Nicholson could be so charming? I didn’t.

They get married. Later in the film, Rachel has other episodes of mania and once again they are handled perfectly. They’re not too dramatic; just sad and self-conscious and full of impulse. At the same time, I appreciate that even at her most ‘pathetic,’ Rachel remains likable, not grating or shrill like so many contemporary female characters. Life is difficult, but Heartburn reminds me that you can only cry for so long until you have to laugh again. (Bonus: See Kevin Spacey in his first feature film role as a handsomely scrappy “Subway Thief.”)

Make-Out with Violence (2009)
Directed by: Deagol Brothers
Written by: Deagol Brothers, Cody DeVos, Eric Lehning

I know a film is special when I walk out and instead of reviewing a mental list of faults, I am euphoric and trying to cling on to my favorite scenes. This was the case with Make-Out with Violence. A zombie movie that’s more about growing up, attraction, love and gender, Make-Out blew me away when I saw it a year ago and has stayed with me since.

Its biggest advantage is that it was made by a group of friends who were still close enough to their adolescence to infuse this coming of age story with a kind of anxiety and humor that older screenwriters and directors have trouble conjuring. Don’t expect a typical teen melodrama, however. It’s something more akin to Guy Maddin’s Careful, the jokes being similarly absurd and the acting so stiff and silly that it crosses into a level of sincerity which more realistic performances can only reach for.

I would offer more details, but, honestly, the best way to see this film is with as little information as possible. Afterwards, I’d recommend watching the extras and reading IMDb to discover the messy history of the project. It’s quite a surprise, considering how beautifully calculated the final product appears.

Shopgirl (2005)
Directed by: Anand Tucker
Written by: Steve Martin (novel/screenplay)

I’ve seen Shopgirl about four or five times now, and I still cry at every viewing. Don’t let that scare you though; the film isn’t without its laughs (Steve Martin wrote the source novel, after all). To put it simply, Shopgirl is the thinking girl’s Rom-Com.

Centered around an artsy, introspective twenty-something Saks sales clerk, the story was inaccurately promoted as a love triangle drama between Claire Danes and her two love interests -- the dashing, older Steve Martin and Jason Schwartzman, a goofy, immature graphic designer. As far as I see it, the question of the film isn’t “whom will she choose?” but “should she choose either?” Nonetheless, the key point of the movie is that relationships aren’t inherently ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ They simply are, and their function--beyond intimacy--is to give you clarity and to get you to that next step in your own development. More than love, Shopgirl is about growing up.

Claire Danes’ performance raises the film to the next level. It would have been easy for her to begin the movie as naive and timid, and end it as wise and outgoing. But Danes’ arc is more complex. She’s intelligent from the start and even in her moments of weakness, she’s clearly self-aware and in control. Even her blossoming sexuality during the course of the film is entirely of her own doing and not a result of any guiding partner.

Ultimately, I like the simplicity of the story, its willingness to delve into the uncomfortable conversations of break-ups, and the beautiful Edward Hopper-esque color palate. It’s a movie that any awkward, restless young woman can relate to, and one that can give her some hope.

Kseniya Yarosh is a writer, researcher and blogger living in Brooklyn. She and Matt Carman co-edit the biyearly essay collection “I Love Bad Movies” (featuring several cockeyed Special Guests) which you can get here. Last year she watched 365 movies (good and bad). This year she's trying to get back to reading books. Nonetheless, her main goal for 2011 is to start a podcast for fellow female film enthusiasts.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Storyteller's Rulebook #70: If You Want To Be Lean, You Have To Be Dense


Last week, I talked about how a movie must have a small enough story that it can fit within two hours and still leave enough time for character growth. Obviously, one way to keep your story lean is to strip away extraneous material: start every scene late, end it early, and avoid meandering digressions. But, paradoxically, in order to be lean, you also have to be dense: you have to pack every moment of every scene with as many metaphors as possible. 

Let’s look at one little throw-away scene from Breaking Away that is extremely dense with metaphorical meaning. Dave is a directionless kid in the suburbs of Bloomington, Indiana who resents the IU college kids, and wants to prove he can be better than them by emulating Italian bicycle racers. That’s his false goal. But by the end of the movie, he will realize that he must overcome his resentment and enroll at IU himself. That’s his unsuspected true goal. This one little scene metaphorically encapsulates both goals.
 
Dave gets a magazine saying that the Italian bicycle team sponsored by Cinzano vermouth is coming to race in Bloomington. He goes out to practice so that he’ll be ready. He bicycles out to the highway, where he pulls up behind a tractor-trailer, which happens to be hauling Cinzano. Dave keeps up even as fast as 50 mph. The shooting and editing switch from bucolic to tense, making it into a real race. But a cop car pulls the trucker over and gives him a ticket. Dave whips around the regretful trucker with a big smile on his face, and passes a sign that says he’s now entering Bloomington.
Every aspect of this little scene is packed with ironic meaning. First, it drives home his false goal: Dave doesn’t tell anyone in this scene that he’s obsessed with Italy, but he doesn’t have to: He’s dressed himself as an Italian racer, he’s cheering himself on using his little bit of self-taught Italian, the director even scores the scene to an Italian symphony... And the race against the Cinzano truck obviously foreshadows Dave’s upcoming race against Team Cinzano.

But the scene doesn’t stop there. It also foreshadows Dave’s hidden true goal. In his mind, he’s in Italy, but he doesn’t even notice that he is actually racing toward the University the whole time, his true destination. He also doesn’t notice that, by projecting his fantasy onto this trucker, he is actually screwing the trucker over, leaving him to pay a ticket for Dave’s stunt. This foreshadows the subplot in which Dave courts a college girl (the “enemy”) by pretending to be an Italian, not realizing how much it will hurt her feelings when his deception is revealed. 

Every year, the Oscars remind us how many artisans it takes to craft every second of film. If those artisans are short-sighted, they will practice their art in a vacuum, suiting their work merely to their own aesthetic sense. But if they really care, they will constantly consult the script to look for ways to magnify the themes of the movie. In this scene, the costume, the score, the location, the art direction, the editing, and the cinematography all act as metaphors that multiply the message—all without a single exchange of dialogue.
 
Cramming so much meaning into a little throw-away scene takes a huge weight off of the actual dialogue scenes. The more you can show to your audience in non-verbal ways, the less you’ll need to tell them through dialogue, and that leaves you with more space to let your story breathe.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Underrated Movie #108: Real Life


Title: Real Life
Year: 1978
Director: Albert Brooks
Writers: Albert Brooks, Monica Johnson and Harry Shearer
Stars: Albert Brooks, Charles Grodin, Frances Lee McCain


The Story: Brooks plays a megalomaniacal version of himself as a comedian/filmmaker making an unprecedented documentary by moving into the house of a typical American family for a year and recording everything they do (on something called “digital video”). When the family doesn’t turn out to be interesting enough, Brooks begins interfering in their lives more and more, driving everybody insane, especially himself.

How it Came to be Underrated: Brooks was way ahead of his time in terms of his post-modern self-awareness and his comedy of awkwardness, not to mention his satire of reality TV. Still, I don’t know why this isn’t well-known as one of the great ground-breaking comedies of the ‘70s.

Why It’s Great:
  1. Brooks is satirizing the very first reality show “An American Family” which aired on PBS in 1973, profiling the Loud family of Santa Barbara, who were filmed in their home for a year. Over the course of the year, the family broke up, leading to endless debates about whether or not that would have happened if the cameras hadn’t been there. Brooks was actually a fan of the show, but he couldn’t resist wondering what would happened if a traditional Hollywood buffoon was in charge (predicting the future of reality TV). Brooks quickly resorts to tricks like giving the family a big-screen TV to cheer them up so that he can get happier footage (note the cameramen in their helmet-cams, always lurking in the background.)
  2. This is one of the most deadpan comedies ever made. Instead of constant laughter, you just get an increasingly nervous grin on your face for long periods at a time until suddenly the absurdity overwhelms you and start laughing out loud with little provocation. Then you quiet down and the process starts again.
  3. In drama it’s good if characters don’t really listen to each other, but in comedy it’s essential. They can’t hear each other and they can’t hear themselves. Brooks plays a basically decent man who nevertheless can’t open his mouth without puffing himself up in the most disingenuous possible way: “I’m an entertainer but, quite frankly, if I’d studied harder —or been graded more fairly— I would have been a doctor or a scientist.”
  4. I showed the VHS to everybody I could find back in the ‘90s but I’d never seen the DVD. I was very glad I watched it, because it includes the trailer (which has nothing to do with the movie) showing just how far ahead of its time the satire of this movie is. Somehow Brooks had his finger on the pulse of 2011 back in 1978. Watch this, it’s hilarious:

If You Like This, You Should Also Check Out: Brooks’s next movie Modern Romance is just as good and even more forgotten. (And his third and fourth movies have already been covered here.) Another hilarious ‘70s satire that accurately predicted the rise of reality TV was Death Race 2000.

How Available Is It?: It’s on DVD with the trailer and a short, funny retrospective interview with Brooks from 2000.

Today’s Post Was Brought To You By: Back At The Courtroom...

Thursday, February 24, 2011

The Meddler #6: ...And My Fixes For Julie and Julia

As I explained yesterday, Julie’s choice to merely cook all these recipes is never going to be as interesting as the parallel story, in which an actual chef invents and publishes those recipes against real opposition. BUT, the ingredients (pardon me) of a real conflict are still there in Julie’s scenes, waiting to come out.

First, we have to ask ourselves, since Adams experiences no real opposition to her cooking, can we get a story out of opposition to her blogging? Consider the cartoon above. I didn’t have go digging for it: I ran across it in this week’s “New Yorker” while I was writing this very entry. The point is, in this snooty city, blogging is still a very disreputable thing to do! Even in 2011! In 2002, it was considered, by the literati, to be downright pathetic!

In the movie, it is briefly mentioned that Julie’s husband is himself a book editor—these are the gatekeepers with the least respect for self-publishing of any kind. Her friends are print-journalists. It is also briefly mentioned that she told everybody for years that she was writing a novel, but abandoned it. These potential sources of conflict are mentioned, but then dropped, because the movie would rather complain about how whiny all those 9/11 victims were to Julie! Surely there’s something that can be done with this...

…But wait, what about the bizarre ending with the unexplained diss from Julia Child herself? Well, I’ll be honest, my first instinct was just to cut that depressing plot detail out. It’s not like the biopic police are going to arrest you for excising damning information. But, in the spirit of this project, let’s say we have to leave it in—Well, I say it can be done. But if we’re going to leave it in, it can’t just be casually mentioned and then blithely dismissed. And we don’t have to, because in this version: it becomes the whole point of the movie! Watch where I’m going with this…

  1. Before we meet Julia, we meet Julie: She moves to a Queens apartment that she hates. She finds her job helping 9/11 victims fulfilling but depressing. At first she says her new kitchen is too small to cook anything fancy in, but her disappointed husband reminds her how much she used to love to cook Julia Child recipes. She says she can’t do that anymore because she doesn’t have Julia Child’s advantages. Her husband is dubious about that. Julie admits that she doesn't actually know anything about Julia’s life, but still...
  2. So the next day, while at Barnes and Noble she starts reading the beginning of Julia Child’s autobiography in a comfy chair…
  3. Now we see Julia’s dislocated early years in Paris, where she struggled mightily to find herself and earn the right to be a chef...
  4. Julie is too poor to buy the book, but she comes home, takes out Julia’s cookbook and makes something fancy which makes her very happy. She decides to do it every day.
  5. She brags to her friends about her new happiness technique but they are appalled. She’s hiding form the world in the kitchen? In the most exciting city in the world? Did their mothers fight for nothing? Why can’t Julie stand up for herself and make her husband do the cooking? She realizes that they’ll never understand how happy this makes her...
  6. But she’s dying to tell someone about her adventures in cooking, so she secretly starts a blog, hoping to find an online community, but at first she gets no comments…
  7. She goes to an editor party at her husband’s publishing firm, and meekly asks them what they think of blogging. They all tear into the idea viciously: it devalues what editors do and takes money out of real writers’ pockets by giving away unedited pablum for free. Someone needs to tell these people that nobody wants to hear their crap. Julia slips out in horror. Her husband runs out after her...
  8. Her husband tries to cheer her up by buying her the biography she started in the bookstore. She reads further…
  9. We see Child’s snooty treatment at the Cordon Bleu and by Paris society…
  10. …but we return to Julie as she abruptly closes the book. The book is too good! She’ll read it all week and not get any cooking done. She decides that she can only finish it when she’s done with the project, which she dives back into enthusiastically…
  11. Gradually, she builds an online community and fans, which makes her happy, but her husbands eventually admits that he misses hanging out with their old editor friends who they’ve shunned since the party. She says she can’t bear to face them again. He says that maybe they were right—she is withdrawing from the world. He leaves to go to an editor party alone.
  12. At home alone and depressed again, she decides to break her rule and crack open the book again, just for a few chapters…
  13. We see Julia’s social flowering through cooking, her Valentine’s day party, getting her sister married, etc…
  14. Julie and her husband cautiously decide to invite her “get out of the kitchen” friends and his editor friends to an in-their-face Julia Child themed dinner party. They show up ready for a fight, but she wins them all over with great food and good humor.

    Until… the end of dinner, when she says that, when the projects all over, she might want to publish it as a book—who knows? One of the editors visibly blanches at this, but forces a polite smile. Julie insists on hearing what her honest reaction was. The editor politely refuses. Julie insists again, saying she really wants to know. Finally, the editor erupts: “If I hear one more blogger come into my office telling me about how we should publish their blog entries, I will explode! I want to say to them: I know you have ‘fans’! You have ‘fans’ because it’s FREE!” Mortified, Julie meekly thanks her for her honesty, and they all struggle through the rest of dinner.
  15. Now feeling truly isolated, Julie bitterly limits herself to the online community that loves her, worrying her husband even more. He suggests that if this was really all about getting published, she should drop the project and restart her novel. She is tempted, but she says she has to finish, if only so she can finish reading the biography. He asks if it’s really that good and starts reading it himself... After he reads the next section, he insists that she read it too to cheer herself up… She does…
  16. We get the whole story about Julia’s epic struggle to publish her book and all the many disappointments she faced.
  17. Later, Julie comes home one day and her husband has a surprise for her: he found the complete tapes of Julia’s cooking show—he’s a big fan of Julia now too. They watch them together. Now they see the clip of Julia dropping her quiche on the counter and picking it back up, laughing and saying “It can still be fixed—who’s to know? And if it isn’t perfect, always remember: Never apologize! No excuses! No explanations necessary!” Julie practices saying this out loud. Her husband encourages her. They both shout it out the window…
  18. Julia enters the last stretch of the project with her new motto, “Never apologize!” When editors at parties make fun of her for having a blog, she makes fun of their snootiness, and they all have a laugh. At one of these parties, she meets a writer from the Times who wants to profile her. Her husband points out that the Times can be pretty snide in their profiles, but she says she doesn’t care anymore.
  19. In the final days of the project, the profile appears and her answering machine fills up with book offers! She’s going to get published after all! BUT… on the very last day, as Julie prepares for a celebratory dinner party, her new publisher tells her they’ve gotten a cease and desist letter from Julia Child’s lawyers saying that Julie is profiting off her name! Julie is devastated. The husband says that he should have realized this would happen. He tells her it’s time to finally finish reading Julia’s book… …Julie abandons her cooking and reads…
  20. …We see what we didn’t see in the movie: Julia is now famous and everybody wants to put her name on cheap stuff. She decides to never lend out her name to any thing that wasn’t her idea. No exceptions. Her husband applauds her integrity. End of Julia’s story.
  21. But Julie, reading this, is devastated, even though she realizes now why Julia will never understand. Her publisher asks if they should honor the cease and desist letter. They need an answer right away. She panics… Maybe she just wasn’t meant to have a book… But she has guests coming and her food is boiling over… She panics: “We’ll apologize to our guests. And we’ll apologize to Julia herself and maybe then she’ll…” The door rings… An early guest… She throws open the door: “Never apologize!”
  22. Title cards comes up over their happy dinner party, saying that Julia died the next year. Julie regretted that she never got a chance to tell Julia in person how much she admired her… …but she never apologized.

Basically, this is Harold and Maude. (Forty-year-old spoilers here:) “You taught me not to want to commit suicide, but now I realize that you were planning your own suicide this whole time. So does this undo all that you’ve taught me? No! I still believe it even if you never did. I’ve passed the ultimate test of my new philosophy!”

So does all this (and I apologize for the length) add up to a good movie? Not really, but it just has to be good enough to justify flashing back to the wonderful Julia Child stuff. Hopefully, all of the above plot would be quite a bit shorter than the flashbacks themselves, making it Streep and Tucci’s movie, as it always should have been.

The Meddler #5: Some Problems with Julie and Julia...


Usually, when people say that a movie is half-good, they don’t mean it this literally. As every single reviewer of Julie and Julia said in unison, the portions dealing with Julia Child (Meryl Streep) are magically, beautifully, delightfully good. Better than a movie about someone writing a cookbook has any right to be. The other half of the movie, dealing with a blogger named Julie Powell in 2002 (Amy Adams) trying to recreate all of Julia’s recipes in one year, is a complete and total disaster. Unwatchable. But did it have to be so?

To a certain extent, yes. This is possibly an unfilmable subject. Watching someone blog is death (especially if they murmer the words out loud as they do it). Arbitrary deadlines, as I was just saying, are death. Usually, happy marriages are death. Amazingly, this movie makes Child’s happy marriage (to Stanley Tucci) utterly charming and captivating, but they took it too far in trying to make Powell’s marriage measure up. The scenes with Powell’s husband are flat and unconvincing. (Anyone who read the horrifying reviews of Powell’s second memoir knows why.)

But the Streep scenes are so great that I find myself compelled to find a way to rescue the other half of the movie. First, let’s list the problems (NOT a complete list):

  1. The biggest problem: Almost every cut back and forth through time is completely unmotivated. The past has no clear relationship to the present. Case in point: we start with Child moving to Paris, then cut to Powell moving to Queens forty years later. But every cut must answer a question posed by the previous shot. What question of Child’s is answered by Powell’s movie to Brooklyn? None. Child neither knows nor cares about Powell. We start with Child here, making her our POV character, but she has no POV on Powell, making the cut impossible.
  2. Powell hates her job (helping victims of 9/11!), hates her friends for being richer and busier than her, and only loves to cook. When a friend starts a blog, she starts one too out of spite. Not sympathetic, folks.
  3. She instantly knows what the blog should be and what it should mean. She has already read Child’s biography, already knows everything about Child, and instantly shows her husband tapes of Child explaining her philosophy. We in the audience are about to embark on a journey to get to know Child, but for Powell that journey is already over, so she can’t provide a POV of Child either. This may be the way it actually happened, but it’s death on screen.
  4. Instead of watching Powell get to know Child, we get scene after scene that tries to wring serious conflict from the physical difficulties of cooking. These are obstacles, not conflicts. Good for a montage, but not the entire second act. Especially since we know there will be no consequences for missing her arbitrary deadline.
  5. For Powell, the cooking is hard, but the blogging is always totally fulfilling and positive. But while Child’s journey is to become a famous chef—Powell’s journey, such as it is, is to become a famous blogger, so it’s the blogging that should be hard. But how can blogging be hard?? Come back tomorrow…
  6. But before we get to that, the other biggest problem is the totally bizarre ending. Just before the end, Powell sells the book rights for big money, but, gasp, finds out that Child (who turns out to still be alive) hates the blog. Why? THE MOVIE DOESN’T SAY. (I had to go on the internet to find out that that Child had fought for years to keep people from selling merchandise with her name on it and had adopted a policy of never lending her name to any product, so she didn’t like to see her name used to promote someone else’s book, which is understandable enough.) The movie makes an unexplained reference to this devastating fact, shows that Powell is devastated, but then abruptly cuts off discussion by having Powell declare “There’s something wrong with her! I prefer the Julia that lives in my head!” So she finishes the project, has a triumphant dinner party, then goes to visit a replica of Child’s kitchen where she pretends to converse with Child’s picture.

    The end. It’s painfully sad to watch. If this were a Bergman-eque tragedy it would be one thing, but we’re supposed to stand up and cheer! Mind-boggling.

Okay, okay, I’ve told you what you already know. Could anyone re-inflate this fallen soufflé? Tomorrow, I will try…

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Underrated Movies: Special Guest Picks #14


Hey everybody, this week it’s another two-timer (there’s gotta be a better way of saying that): Luke O’Brien. Luke actually withdrew an earlier version of this because he decided that one of his movies wasn’t underrated enough. Nobody could say that about his final list. Some of Luke’s fellow Special Guests run a podcast called The Flophouse and this is the first time we’ve had a movie that got razzed there before it got praised here. Can you spot it? Bravo to Luke for sticking his neck out for some truly unappreciated movies. Take it away, Luke-O…

Last time I talked about movies people may have missed because of a more prominent film released by the same director or at the same time. Today, I want to talk about movies that get in their own way. Sometimes the premise is the problem. Without seeing a movie, there is no way you can imagine that what was described to you could be worth two hours of your life. Even when your friend who loves a good movie tells you what it’s about, you can’t bear to sit down and watch it. Here are a few movies actual people I know have enjoyed despite their initial reaction when they heard the movie’s two second elevator pitch:

1) Unleashed (aka Danny the Dog) (seen above)

Pitch: A Glasgow gangster defends his turf with the aid of Danny, a young man he raised as his attack dog. When an accident leads Danny away from his master and into the care of a blind piano tuner who helps reconnect with his humanity, a reckoning with his “master” is due.

There is nothing right with the premise of this film. It sounds not only like a purposeless action movie, it sounds like a really dumb purposeless action movie. But instead of shying away from the absurdity, Luc Besson embraces it. He populates his Scotland with characters that are so outrageously drawn, they almost become allegorical figures for the best and worst of humanity.

Bob Hoskins’s scenery chewing loan shark, who barks every line with terrorizing comedy, sets the tone for everyone else by giving them a villain to live up to. Jet Li, in the only acting performance of his I find noteworthy, plays Danny with a convincing child-like fear and - when unleashed - bestial anger. When Morgan Freeman shows up as the sage-like piano tuner living with his saintly daughter-in-law, Kerry Condon, you can’t really think twice about if they seem “real.” Every actor completely believes their own character’s strangeness, playing off of one another as if all of this was natural instead of trying to keep us tied to plausibility.

And, of course, part of the joy in this movie comes from the gorgeously engrossing action sequences. Yuen Woo Ping creates ferociously acrobatic fight scenes that Besson films from a dizzying variety of angles and perspectives. All of the action is set to a wildly underrated, pulse-pounding score by Massive Attack. This is the rare movie that passed my most critical test: By the time the opening of the film was done, I hadn’t even touched my popcorn.

2) Io non ho paura (I’m Not Scared)

Pitch: Ten-year-old Michele discovers a boy close to his age, Filippo, chained up in a hole dug into a reclusive part of the fields near his home and grows curious about why the boy is there.

“Chained up boy” ends most of my pleas for people to watch this film. It’s difficult to ever recommend a movie where bad things happen to kids. Even as a single element of a movie, too many people I know are ruined by those moments.

But these rare movies come along where there is no other way that a story can be told. Gabriele Salvatores creates a believable Southern Italy from the 1970s, when the country was rampant with crime. He fills the screen not only with the gorgeous countryside, but also with kids running around, not doing much more than being kids. When Michele discovers Filippo, he reacts like many kids would react – with disbelief and morbid curiosity. (It should also be noted how rare this is, since American child actors - in general - are horrible. They can ruin a scene twice as fast as bad dialog. And our first impulse should rightly be to avoid any movie that uses them extensively.)

If he was an adult we would never accept the blithe way everyone reacts when Michele begins – cautiously – to tell people what he’s discovered, but we can believe a child would be bullied into silence and dismissed. Michele’s inability to understand why this has happened to Filippo, and why no one is helping him, drives the movie forward. As he begins to unravel why Filippo is there and who is keeping him locked up, he begins to understand his family and community for the first time.

3) Mr. Brooks

Pitch: Kevin Costner plays a relapsing serial killer who gets blackmailed by a peeping tom (Dane Cook) into taking him along on his next murder; Demi Moore plays the detective who is hot on their trail.

Sometimes the cast alone is a reason you know you want to stay away, and on paper this cast couldn’t look any worse. The stars of Good Luck Chuck, Passion of the Mind, and The Postman? Not an auspicious start. This movie reeks of the sad opportunism that Hollywood uses to draw ticket sales to a terrible movie by overloading it with big name stars. But this movie is better than that. It’s a great reflection on identity, set in a world of pulpy deliciousness. I’ve seen it several times, and I always have a feeling I can only describe as the opposite of that sucker punch I felt when I walked out of Pacino and Deniro’s spectacularly bad Righteous Kill.

The movie opens with disembodied voices – an aww-shucks Iowan intonation breathily saying the serenity prayer while a growling voice interrupts with objections. We meet the two characters Mr. Brooks is split into: Costner’s Earl, the cautious family man who is using a 12 step program to try to control his darker impulses, and Marshall, giddily played by William Hurt, who acts as the devil on his shoulder, encouraging him to do very bad things.

This gives us a clear path for a modern interpretation of Jekyll and Hyde, but one where Dr. Jekyll is considerably less innocent and Hyde a lot more entertaining. There is no transition into Mr. Brooks’s head – Marshall and Earl have conversations in the middle of a scene with some other character who notices nothing – and the chemistry between Costner and Hurt makes these scenes come alive.

There are too many plot threads (this is still a pulpy thriller full of big improbable jumps) but they all reflect these struggles with our darker selves: Cook’s desperate desire to get in touch with something more Hyde-like piteously taken in by Brooks, Moore’s cop whose contentious divorce and obsession with several killers constantly threatens her Jekyllian nature, and finally Brooks’s daughter, an excellent Danielle Pannabaker, who comes home early from school and becomes the crux of many of Brooks’s fears about how his nature may have affected his family.

4) Apres Vous

Pitch: A French farce that follows a pathologically helpful waiter who interrupts a man who is trying to hang himself, and then goes to outrageous extremes to help the man get his life back on track.

“It’s a French farce about…” is about as far as this pitch gets. Despite the fact that a huge number of our biggest box office comedies are watered down versions of French originals (including the recent Dinner for Schmucks which is a sad toothless version of Le Diner de Cons), there’s still a pretty strong bias against comedies you have to read, especially by people whose exposure to French comedy is the old saw that all of France thinks Jerry Lewis is still funny. Even my film-loving friends, who would rave about Tati, grumble about how too many of their movies are like Les Bronzes, or one of the other garishly over-the-top comedies. But this movie is more than where it is from. So I need to be clear here: I’m telling you about this movie so you can see it and enjoy it before it’s remade with Paul Rudd and Jason Segel.

This story stands out to me for how it combines the elements of farce, so popular in their better comedies, with a more benevolent view of humanity. After saving his new friend from hanging, our waiter feels responsible for him. He discovers that the inconsolable man recently broke up with his girlfriend and has no interest in going on without his love. Undaunted by the man’s protestations (and further attempts to take his own life), the waiter tries to help the man repair his life and reconcile with his ex.

All of this, of course, has to be done before the suicidal mope costs him his job and his girlfriend. Every good turn is met with resistance and ridiculous failure. That’s normal for a farce. The challenge is getting us to still care about the guys we know are struggling to succeed. Daniel Auteuil loves the characters, and has specialized in creating people you would actively root against (his cheating executive in Le Doublure) or pity (his boorish accountant in Le Placard). But it’s unusual for a story to be built on someone whose most significant personality flaw is excessive kindness. And when the waiter begins to consider betraying his new friend when he sees how beautiful his ex is, we get an earned sense of conflict that makes the story more compelling than the ridiculous set-up normally would.

5) Lars and the Real Girl

Pitch: A painfully shy man’s “relationship” with a sex doll that he treats as a real person helps him stop isolating himself from the rest of the world.

This sounds like a soft core porn treatment of those classic 80s movies where inanimate objects come to life. (Zalman King’s Mannequin, maybe?) I don’t want to see that movie either. The actual movie is the opposite of what it sounds like. It’s devoid of sex, grounded, and even goes out of its way to show Lars’s discomfort with even being touched.

I found the movie light on the comedy that the goofy cover communicates. The movie is successful in part because Ryan Gosling does such a phenomenal job bringing Lars to life as someone with genuinely crippling shyness. But a real Lars is a sad portrait of someone with genuinely crippling shyness. It’s the portrait of someone who, as he begins to be openly emotional with those around him, is totally unprepared for how difficult feeling that much can be.

And while the emotionally stunted hermit is centerpiece, the movie, in the end, is hardly about him or his imagined paraplegic missionary girlfriend Bianca – although they are the catalysts for everything the follows. The film unfolds around how his brother and pregnant sister-in-law react to this news, how that affects how others treat Lars. And the story grows to encompass the entire community around them – participating in, or resisting, Lars’s increasingly elaborate delusion. The film is, as many great stories are, about how we treat people. And not much is more important than that.

Luke O'Brien works for a privately held movie database. His day job just supports his avocation: answering people's questions about what to put next in their Netflix queue. If you need help pairing a bad movie with a good bourbon, he's happy to help.