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SIFF Capsule Recap #9: LEADING LADY, TOM AT THE FARM, GRAND CENTRAL, THE ONE I LOVE

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As SIFF grinds to a halt, I still haven’t reached my (absurd) goal of hitting 40 for SIFForty, but now I’m four closer. Now that there’s only a few days left in which to get ‘er done, I’m feeling the pressure. With this capsule review series now in the tail end, I can safely say that SIFForty has certainly had a wealth of good stuff to offer but they’re nothing if not hidden amongst a trove of unenviable watches. As always, the good is mixed in with the bad, brown-paper-bagged and drawn at random. But of course, this is why you read reviews. Diving deeper into the oeuvre of international film festival, this segment was to feature only foreign language films but I broke and had to pop on something in English. Ultimately, I was really glad I did as it was the easy highlight of this segment.

Still keeping within the rules and regs of SIFF protocol, these micro-reviews are sliced and diced down to a brief 75 words so you can read them fast, I can write them fast and the studio’s happy. So, short and sweet reading for you, much more time for movie watching for me. This could be the beginning (or is it getting towards the end now?) of a beautiful friendship.

Leading Lady

dir. Henk Pretorius star. Gil Bellows, Katie McGrath, Brumilda van Rensburg, Bok van Blerk, Eduan van Jaarsveldt (South Africa)

NOTE: Last year I missed Fanie Fourie’s Lobola which, to my surprise, went on to win the SIFF Audience Award, so my anticipation of Leading Lady (and its inclusion as a shot in the dark pick on my 25 Must Sees of SIFForty list) was mostly to see what director Henk Pretorius had in store. What I witnessed has shaken my faith in foreign film. Frequent abysmal acting populates this cliche fish-out-of-water saga of a precocious actress who heads to South Africa to research a role – a place distressingly drawn as the land of the noble savage (the phrase “adorably primitive” is thrown in). Utterly suffocated by upbeat musical cues, this is the movie equivalent of going to Africa for a week, building a shanty library and believing you’ve reached spiritual enlightenment. It’s racist, sexist, and xenophobic on top of its even worse offensive of being boring, predictable and just all around stupid. (D-)

Tom at the Farm

dir. Xavier Dolan star. Xavier Dolan, Pierre-Yves Cardinal, Lise Roy, Évelyne Brochu, Manuel Tadros (Canada)

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A psychosexual genre flick that sees Dolan use his ferociously queer eye for something that doesn’t entirely add up to the tense and sexy (in a masochistic, bondagey kinda way) picture he’s trying to paint. Tom’s a gay Canadian man grieving his lover’s death but unable to tell the family of the man he’s lost the truth of their relationship. Whilst visiting, Tom falls under the spell of his would-be brother-in-law’s threatening ways, unconscious of his growing Stockholm Syndrome. But the transformation that plays out feels too forced for something that ought to be more organic and free-range. (C+)

Grand Central

dir. Rebecca Ziotowski star. Tahar Rahim, Lea Seydoux (France)

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Rebecca Ziotowski spells out a slow-moving tale of woebegone happenstance in Grand Central; an economical, downbeat drama in which unskilled worker Gary (Tahar Rahim) lands a job at a nuclear power plant and begins an affair with Karole (Léa Seydoux), one of his co-workers and wife of his superior. The downtrodden narrative shows an unseen side of middle class drudgery and features stinging performances from the abundantly talented cast but its overtly contemplative movement makes Grand a stuffy and borderline pretentious experience. (C)

The One I Love

dir. Charlie McDowell star. Mark Duplass, Elizabeth Moss, Ted Danson

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Like stepping into a long-form Twilight Zone episode, The One I Love explores whether we would trade out our loved ones for more idyllic versions. Mark Duplass and Elizabeth Moss occupy the entirety of the film (with a brief appearance from Ted Danson) with palpable magnetism, fleshing out two sides of the same coin: the bumbing and the suave; the bitchy and the demure. The mechanisms are left intentionally vague so that our focus is left on the characters, and not the how or the why of it all. This thirty little indie film might not fix easily into a box but that’s what makes it all the more special. (B+)

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Click through for more recap segments and stay tuned for the next collection of four in this whopping ten part series.

Part 1: JIMI: All is By My Side, Zip Zap and the Marble Gang, Hellion, Fight Church 
Part 2: Cannibal, The Double, Time Lapse, Another
Part 3: Half of a Yellow Sun, Mirage Men, The Trip to Italy, Starred Up
Part 4: Difret, The Fault in Our Stars, The Skeleton Twins, In Order of Disappearance
Part 5: Willow Creek, Firestorm, Mystery Road, 10,000 KM
Part 6: Obvious Child, To Kill a Man, Night Moves, The Internet’s Own Boy
Part 7: Canopy, Intruders, The Babadook, Happy Christmas
Part 8: Frank, The Grand Seduction, Venus in Fur, Gold


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Out in Theaters: EDGE OF TOMORROW

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Since all the Groundhog Dog jokes have already risen, seen their shadow and retreated into the proverbial internet hole, let’s just settle with calling Edge of Tomorrow a slightly derivative but monstrously enjoyable blockbuster. In a time where any project commanding a budget north of 100 million dollars is either dumbed down to the broadest of international audiences or stuffed with pew-pewing superheroes, witnessing this brand of thinking man’s blockbuster illicits nothing short of a deep sigh of relief. It might not have the layers of Inception or the majesty of Avatar but its fleet-footed cadence, wily comic timing and crackerjack combat spectacles makes for one ace summer tentpole.

Adapted from Hiroshi Sakurazaka‘s popular Japanese manga “All You Need is Kill” (which once shared its name with this film adaptation), Edge sees an alien force invading Europe by way of asteroid-as-shuttle-ship that collides with Earth’s most tested continent. A discord of international new clips cue us into the ensuing chaos breaking loose like hounds of hell off Satan’s leash. As the world rallies to a united cause of defeating this unthinkably strategic force, the odds may never be in their favor.

However the Earthling forces attempt to smite their spindly-armed enemies in this David versus octo-predator Golliath combat ring, human advances are always halted with alarming precision by the preternaturally calculating Mimics. It’s like their adversaries know their every move before they even make them. Let the stank of foreshadow waft over you. Humanity is promptly six miles up shit creek with no paddle, advancing towards a waterfall that plummets towards pee-icicles and their opponents are snickering on the sidelines. Consider the apocalypse uncanceled; mankind faces imminent extinction. But not if Tom Cruise has anything to say about it (*guitar solo*). Still, it takes him a while to get to the point of Earth’s savior.

At first, Cage (Cruise) is nothing but a trumped up army lackey; a cheery filter for CNN-friendly update blurbs, a Buzzfeed of combat propaganda. He’s the door-to-door salesman of joining the army, the Uncle Sam of “We Want You (In a Mech Suit!).” But when he responds to orders to personally cover the front line of the new war effort with a not-so-cunning retort of blackmail, Cage winds up on the receiving end of handcuffs, stripped of his rank and thrown in with the underdog grunts of J Squad. His pissing contest ended with a definitive bitch slap and a lingering mushroom stamp, Cage has all but received a death sentence, which is quickly proffered up on the battlefield. But not before he gets a fat stream of inky alien blood all up in his grills. But this ain’t just any ol’ alien blood, this is Mimic blood; magical, time-traveling Mimic blood.

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Cage dies (a particularly unpleasant death, I would add) and wakes up at the beginning of the day; handcuffed, confused and forced to leap into battle and die all over again. Begin his sentencing to ’93 Bill Murray antics except with more aliens and the pants-shitting knowledge that death is but a pre-destined misstep away. Let’s just say Cage wouldn’t be happily singing along to “Time Warp.”

But as the film transitions into this temporal stasis, director Doug Liman really hits his groove. In repetition, he finds opportunities to impress, integrating elements of comic mistiming in with increasingly impressive combat sequences. As Cage is forced to re-live the experiences of the same day over and over again, Liman is able to weave in moments of comic relief just as naturally as the beautifully choreographed – and often equally amusing – action sequences.

And like any time travel film ought, Liman manages to not take the affairs too seriously, pausing every now and then to fulfill audience skepticism by having Cage fail epically. Seeing Cruise poorly time an escape under a bus and getting chewed to road kill or aping that he doesn’t have a broken leg so he’s not forced to repeat the day by taking a slug to the noggin doesn’t take us out of the moment so much as cement us in it. Memory is imperfect and it’s grossly satisfying to see slight miscalculations lead to the day reboot we become so familiar with.

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As we’ve come to expect, Cruise takes to the mantle of unlikely action hero with gallant aplomb. I mean, the man’s a professional. Step back and watch him work. Though Cage may lack definition as he blooms from green amateur into an improbable hero, his budding relationship with decorated veteran Rita (Emily Blunt) gives us something extra to cheer for. Blunt, for all her yoga-body beauty, is no ingénue. She’s a certifiably hardened BAMF, and goes by the somewhat uncomplimentary tag of “Full Metal Bitch.” With a handle like that (set with a sly tip-of-the-hat to Kubrick) assume that even in a robo-suit, you wouldn’t want to spar with her.  

With a screenplay that might have turned into the brainchild of sub-committee (Christopher McQuarrie, Jez Butterworth and John-Henry Butterworth are all credited screenwriters), it’s a wonder that the plot is as airtight as it is. Sure, there’s elements that may not stand up to the test of vehement scrutiny (particularly the somewhat indecipherable ending bits) but the yarn is engrossing enough and staged with just the right amount of ludicrous maneuvering to allow us to overlook them without much complaint. After all, seeing Cruise and Blunt strapped into mech suits and storming a nest of whirling dervish is all you really need. Well, that and kill.

B+

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SIFF Capsule Recap #8: FRANK, THE GRAND SEDUCTION, VENUS IN FUR, GOLD

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It’s almost hard to believe that SIFF is winding down to a close but thems the facts. With series eight now closed out, that leaves eight more films to do. Pressure is on. With this capsule reivew series now in the tail end, I can safely say that SIFForty has certainly had a wealth of good stuff to offer but they’re nothing if not hidden amongst a trove of unenviable watches. As always, the good is mixed in with the bad, paper-bagged and drawn at random. But of course, this is why you read reviews. This time around, every film listed is foreign. How critic-y of me. Still keeping within the rules and regs of SIFF protocol, these micro-reviews are sliced and diced down to a brief 75 words so you can read them fast, I can write them fast and the studio’s happy. So, short and sweet reading for you, much more time for movie watching for me. This could be the beginning (or is it getting towards the end now?) of a beautiful friendship.

Frank

dir. Leonard Abrahams star. Michael Fassbender, Domhnall Gleeson, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Scoot McNairy (UK)

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With a big, fake head and a Jim Morrison-like access to lyrical poetry, Frank (Michael Fassbender) is as talented as he is prophetic, and potentially disturbed. Joe (Domhnall Gleeson), a talentless hack of a musician, wants to take advantage of Frank’s art; to transform it into a social media-friendly commodity. As Frank attempts to find his magnus opus, Joe dopily tries to package and sell it; a searing metaphor for Gen-X self-inflation en masse. Efficiently experimental, at times sermonist, and always outlandish, Frank is a powerful meditation on mental disease, commercialism and art, and all the brightly lit areas where they intersect. Frank also proves Fassbender can act like no other through a Papier Mâché helmet. (B)

The Grand Seduction

dir. Don McKellar star. Brendan Gleeson, Taylor Kitsch, Gordon Pinsent, Matt Watts (Canada)

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This delightfully moonstruck feature boasts Brendan Gleeson‘s comedian muscles and Taylor Kitsch‘s shtick (which, yes, is an anagram of Kitsch) for being the likable bad boy (Dr. Bad Boy here.) When their once-proud fishing harbor dries up,  Murray’s (Gleeson) only way to ween the town off the welfare checks is to secure a doctor in order to legitimize a bid for an oil repurposing facility. To do so, he and the town’s people unite to spy on Kitsch’s Dr. Lewis, transforming the town around them into Lewis’s own personal fantasyland. The gimmick is cute (without being too syrupy) and at times touching, reminiscent in tone to last year’s equally cheery/droll Philomena, and is an easy recommendation for the masses of moms and pops looking for a feel-gooder. (B-)

Venus in Fur (La Vénus à la fourrure)

dir. Roman Polanski star. Emmanuelle Seigner, Mathieu Amalric (France)

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As much a showcase for its two authoritative leads as it is an illustration of the power of theater, Venus in Fur continues Roman Polanski‘s streak of adapting plays in fearlessly simple terms. While Carnage felt a little forced in its translation to the screen, Furs works wonderfully and the adroit performances matched with the clever subjugation of gender roles present in David Ives‘s drama gives this pre-turn-of-the-century, play-within-a-play, dominatrix tale one to not soon forget. (B+)

Gold

dir. Niall Heer star. Maisie Williams, James Nesbitt, David Wilmont, Kerry Condon (Ireland)

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An ironically named film – even Silver or Bronze would seem somewhat an overstatement – Gold sends up the sports movie by mixing heavy themes and messy family drama amidst the quest for first place. Abbie (Game of Throne‘s Maisie Williams) is pressured by her (adoptive) father Frank, a mustache of a PE teacher, to win win win, so turns to performance enhancing drugs to improve her times, just as her real dad, Ray, enters the picture for the first time in 12 years. While it’s nice to see Williams in a leading role (and she’s never the problem), the resolution comes up short, as does some of the connective tissue getting us from point A to point B. As such, Gold is a film with high aspirations that only periodically hits its mark. (C)

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Click through for more recap segments and stay tuned for the next collection of four in this whopping ten part series.

Part 1: JIMI: All is By My Side, Zip Zap and the Marble Gang, Hellion, Fight Church 
Part 2: Cannibal, The Double, Time Lapse, Another
Part 3: Half of a Yellow Sun, Mirage Men, The Trip to Italy, Starred Up
Part 4: Difret, The Fault in Our Stars, The Skeleton Twins, In Order of Disappearance
Part 5: Willow Creek, Firestorm, Mystery Road, 10,000 KM
Part 6: Obvious Child, To Kill a Man, Night Moves, The Internet’s Own Boy
Part 7: Canopy, Intruders, The Babadook, Happy Christmas


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Talking With Richard Linklater of BOYHOOD

I made no secret of my admiration for director Richard Linklater. Over the course of 25 years, the self-taught auteur has been responsible for some of the finest, most human pieces of film to grace the silver screen. From his hauntingly perfect Before series to his most recent – and most ambitious – masterpiece Boyhood, Linklater is not a guy who plays by the rules. Where traditional films zig, Linklater zags. Read More

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SIFF Capsule Recap #7: CANOPY, INTRUDERS, BABADOOK, HAPPY CHRISTMAS

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It’s almost hard to believe that SIFF is winding down to a close but thems the facts, and I still need to get another 12 movies in before the end of next week. While that might seem an insurmountable challenge for you regular, non-obsessive folk, I’ll think of it as a walk in the park. With this capsule reivew series now in the tail end, I can safely say that SIFForty has certainly had a wealth of good stuff to offer but they’re nothing if not hidden amongst a trove of unenviable watches. As always, the good is mixed in with the bad, paper-bagged and drawn at random. But of course, this is why you read reviews. But still keeping within the reigns of SIFF protocol, these micro-reviews are sliced and diced down to a brief 75 words so you can read them fast, I can write them fast and the studio’s fat, rich, and happy. So, short and sweet reading for you, much more time for movie watching for me. This could be the beginning (or is it getting towards the end now?) of a beautiful friendship.

 

Canopy

dir. Aaron Wilson star. Khan Chittenden, Mo Tzu-Yi (Australia)

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An aggressively tedious concept film that sees an Australian pilot attempting to survive when shot down over enemy lines in 1942 Singapore. A total lack of momentum makes Canopy an aggravating, if not admirably shot, experience in positively bland, thanklessly simplistic filmmaking. The chirping sound design is like a setting on an Oasis Dream Machine (albeit interrupted by blips of gunfire) and coupled with the fact that the film is essentially dialogue free, Canopy is a snooze fest; a stressed cacophony of too little, too late. Though Aaron Wilson tries to put you into the midst of things, he’s more likely to put you to sleep. (D+)

Intruders

dir. Non Young-seok star. Jun Suk-ho, Oh Tae-kyung (South Korea)

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With a title that works on many levels, Intruders is a Hitchcockian thriller by way of South Korea. A screenwriter tries to find recluse in a snowy off-the-beaten-path village but winds up with far more than he bargained for in this strange, exciting thrill ride. Though there are some technical snags – mostly born of budgetary constraints (Non Young-seok sorely needed a better indoor camera) – the festering story is a novelty of old and new, East meets West and with its nail-biting final act, will keep you guessing and on the edge of your seat until the closing moments. (B)

The Babadook

dir. Jennifer Kent star. Essie Davis, Noah Wiseman, Daniel Henshall, Hayley McElhinney (Australia)

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An eerie children’s pop-up book warns that once you’ve seen the Babadook, you’ll wish you were dead. Thankfully, that’s not true of the film itself. This Australian ghost tale circles the real life impossibility of single parent child-rearing in a film that’s part Home Alone and part The Shining. Babadook is a frugal little haunter that makes smart use of its minimalist means and wrings a borderline outstanding (or at least compelling unselfconscious) performance from its young actor, Noah Wiseman. (B+)

Happy Christmas

dir. Joe Swanberg star. Anna Kendrick, Melanie Lynskey, Mark Webber, Lena Dunham, Joe Swanberg (USA)

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Joe Swanberg returns to his meandering, improvisational ways in a comedy/drama about a new family unit celebrating their second Christmas, which is promptly crashed by recently dumped and perennially immature sister Jenny. Jenny (the irresistibly lovable Anna Kendrick) is a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pant’s kinda girl and Kendrick’s hopelessly awkward antics marry perfectly to Swanberg’s trackless filmmaking. His wandering style allows this grounded story of family fuck-ups to highlight the little things in life (babies cackling and dogs chewin’ on bones) and is a fully worthy successor to last year’s borderline commercial Drinking Buddies. (B)

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Click through for more recap segments and stay tuned for the next collection of four in this whopping ten part series.

Part 1: JIMI: All is By My Side, Zip Zap and the Marble Gang, Hellion, Fight Church 
Part 2: Cannibal, The Double, Time Lapse, Another
Part 3: Half of a Yellow Sun, Mirage Men, The Trip to Italy, Starred Up
Part 4: Difret, The Fault in Our Stars, The Skeleton Twins, In Order of Disappearance
Part 5: Willow Creek, Firestorm, Mystery Road, 10,000 KM
Part 6: Obvious Child, To Kill a Man, Night Moves, The Internet’s Own Boy

 

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Out in Theaters: MALEFICENT

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Maleficent
, starring Angelina Jolie‘s cheekbones and Elle Fanning‘s bleach blonde mop and shit-eating smile, is a movie designed for young, dim-witted children who fancy bright lights and high pitched voices and don’t yet understand the word “story”. It’s a retelling by way of obliteration, with debut director Robert Stromberg taking sledgehammer swings when he would have benefited so much more from the nuance of a scalpel. From the very first minute, it’s a total slog, a tonal nightmare. There wasn’t one moment where I wasn’t waiting for it to just end.

Up until Maleficent, Stromberg was a viz effects guy with a whopping 94 credits to his name. No wonder this is more spectacle than substance. Taking a page from the book of George Lucas, everything in front of us feels green-screened through and through. It’s FX prequel effect at its most barbarous and boring. Watch people act against CGI, on CGI sound stages with CGI effects. You can just feel the lifelessness waft over you.

With credits like Pan’s Labyrinth and The Hunger Games to his name, Stromberg may know how to paint a pretty picture, but he has no idea how to tell a story. In the comic world, there are artists and there are writers. Knowing your place is key. Stromberg has no idea of his and Maleficent is the 200 million dollar proof.

The story starts in the most precocious of ways with a young Maleficent (Isobelle Molloy), horned and winged, fluttering around an entirely computer animated set. She’s a “stop to smell the roses” kind of girl but somehow she’s also in charge of things around these fairy parts. Called upon by Ent-like creatures, she encounters the equally pubescent human Stefan (Michael Higgins), an ambitious peasant, and quickly harbors an unlikely friendship with him. For you see, humans and fairies are totally not cool with each other. Because the king is a dick, or something.

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The long and short of it is Stefan (now Sharlto Copley) – in a Lord of the Rings, “all men are corruptible” sort of way – also turns out to be a grade-A toolbag and slices and dices Maleficent’s wings Benihana-style in order to take succession as the new king. Why the old king was willing to trade his throne for a pair of wings (meant to prove Maleficent is dead) is beyond me, as is the fact that no-one seemed to question the legitimacy of Stefan’s claim once Maleficent – soon after – pops back into the picture. It’s like everyone involved has a short term memory of about 17 seconds. A telling sign of Linda Woolverton‘s lifeless scripting skills.

Blah blah blah, Maleficent curses baby Aurora (Fanning), King Stefan goes into uber-depressive vengeance state, sends daughter off to the woods to live with rebel fairies to skirt spindle-charged curse. Because no one uses spinning wheels in the woods, duh. The turn though is that Maleficent watches young Aurora grow, harboring untold affection towards the child she has already doomed.

Earlier live action adaptations of similar style have used the “untold” preamble to attempt to flesh out characters that we know little about – see Oz or Huntsman (which themselves are almost – but not quite – as bad as this). Maleficent pulls from a very different page, contradicting the source material at every clunky, heinously predictable turn. Maleficent herself – played by a Jolie who sorely needs to eat a pizza – isn’t a complex character, she’s just another naive woman wronged by a douchey dude. Welcome to Disney 101.  

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In a way, Maleficent could have been a worthy successor to Frozen, in that it shares a similar shift away from an ideology in which a woman’s only savior can be the man. But it’s done so poorly here, and telegraphed with the cheapest, cheesiest brand of phoning it in that you’ve left hanging your head if not throwing your worthless 3D glasses at the screen. There are no characters here, there’s no story. It’s nothing but a 90 minute cash grab…in TECHNICOLOR! The only magical spell it casts is making an hour and a half feel like three hours. The only curse, having to sit through it.

It’s so far from the Sleeping Beauty that we know that when Aurora inevitably does go down for the count, she’s more Napping Beauty than Sleeping Beauty. Seriously, bitch dozes for about a scene and a half. And when Jolie strips down to a leather-mama Michelle Pfeifer Catwoman get-up, y’all know it’s go time. As in, just get up and leave the theater. There’s nothing to see here.

In a movie where every single character is a moron and everything feels like a chew toy, there is nothing of worth to be found. It’s like a bowl of porridge with no raisins or brown sugar. Just lumpy, cold, and pathetic. And what may be the worst crime is just how low the bar seemed to be for this project. There were no aspirations here that they failed to reach. It wasn’t a swing and a miss. Just a lazy bunt. It’s just blah; purified, sparkly blah. It’s like having the nerve to go on Iron Chef and bake up the blandest form of yellowcake adorned with rainbow sprinkles. You have literally the biggest resource in the world right in front of you and you aim for nothing. What a joke.

F

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Out in Theaters: A MILLION WAYS TO DIE IN THE WEST

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Seth McFarlane‘s go-for-broke comic stylings looked to have runs its course when Fox pulled the plug on Family Guy in 2001. But like a zombie on the rise, McFarlane rose from the grave and has gone on to infest America with two spin-offs show (American Dad, The Cleveland Show) and two feature length films, each predicated on crass sight gags, a barrage of cultural references, and poop jokes. Somehow, McFarlane has saved some of his best – and most immature – material for his latest: A Million Ways to Die in the West. It’s a comedy in the crudest sense, a smorgasbord of pee-pee jokes and doo-doo gags. But, damnit, I laughed. 

McFarlane’s western comedy – one of the few in a genre that includes Mel Brook‘s love-it-or-hate-it Blazing Saddles and the Chris Farley and Matthew Perry-led Almost Heroes – starts with the most boring credit sequence I can recall in recent history. Skill-less heli-shots of rising Arizona plateaus superimposed with serif-heavy, western-style font declaring a tome of names is almost lifeless enough to snuff out any anticipation for what’s to come. An un-clever throwback to times when “they didn’t know any better,” this out-of-the-gates launch makes for a starting line lull that nearly derails the proceedings before they’ve even begun, and takes a full five minutes to recover from.

With that downtime behind us, we meet Albert (McFarlane) – a man too clever for his own good, cautiously living in the Wild Wild West. He’s quite obviously a man born in the wrong era, a conceit from which McFarlane mines much of his comedy. Albert is far too progressive to thrive in a society that resolves issues with shoot outs, far too sarcastic for a town where bar fights break out over a sour glance, and far too un-moustiacioed to be considered a man in good standing. Plus, he’s a sheep farmer who can’t even keep his sheep in one place so his pockets are more often filled with sand than pennies (or, God forbid, an entire dollar).

Because of his yellow belly ways, lowly social standing, and (presumably) lack of a mustache, his betrothed Louise (the ever-obnoxious Amanda Seyfried) dumps him for the mustache-twirling Foy (a fitfully funny Neil Patrick Harris.) Albert vents to his only friends and loving couple Edward and Ruth (Giovanni Ribisi and Sarah Silverman respectively) but realizes his situation might not be so bad considering Ruth is a prominent prostitute and yet has not slept with her long-time boyfriend. After all, they’re both Christians saving themselves for marriage. The comedy of their nontraditional set-up is a well oft drawn from but when it works, it works really well. When it doesn’t, let’s just say someone’s scooping seed off someone else’s face. Ew.

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A largely humorless Liam Neeson (who knew he couldn’t be funny?) arrives on the scene as ruthless gun slinger Clinch Leatherwood with wife Anna (Charlize Theron) in tow. When Leatherwood takes off into the sunset (to do lord knows what), Anna befriends down-in-the-dumps Albert and their relationship blossoms into something that resembles a crush, which, you guessed it, causes a bit of an issue when Clinch does ride back into town.

For a movie basically resolving around a single joke – living in the old west sucked – McFarlane is able to mine a good few dozen laughs and reasonably commendable human drama (for what it is at least.) A likable and strangely committed Theron is partly responsible for us feeling any sort of bond with the characters as McFarlane’s Albert is as much a cartoon character as Peter Griffin is. But while Theron grounds us, McFarlane provides comedy in frequent, rapid-fire bursts.

You’d be hard pressed to find anyone arguing that McFarlane’s quality of comedy is anything resembling sophisticated but his quick gag, shotgun style methodology of throwing as much as possible at the wall and seeing what sticks results in an undeniably buffet of giggles. Surely there’s poop jokes mixed in with the more clever one-liners (“Take your hat off boy! Thats a dollar bill!” being the one that made me laugh most) but – as Albert’s shooting skills with attest to – if you fire enough bullets, some of them are bound to hit the target.

That’s not to say however that McFarlane doesn’t occasionally cross the line. His penchant for the occasional racist zinger may land him in a bit of hot water with more liberal-minded audiences but remember this is a movie in which a man fills not one, but two top hats brimming with dookie. Because Seth McFarlane. If you’re not offended, you’re doing something wrong.

As much as I wanted to leave this one with more fodder for my anti-McFarlane campaign, the funnyman titillated my childish side just enough to free the laughs from my hard-worn shell. It’s not necessarily something I’m proud of, but I snickered heartily alongside the (predominantly juvenile) audience members… and fairly often. While A Million Ways to Die in the West may not be a film I actively recommend, it’s one I admit will likely work your funny bone, under the right circumstances.

C

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SIFF Capsule Recap #6: OBVIOUS CHILD, TO KILL A MAN, NIGHT MOVES, THE INTERNET'S OWN BOY

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This Memorial Day weekend brought a bit of a lull to the otherwise onslaught of SIFF domination as I only caught one new film over the three day weekend. Just today though, I capped off one more to bring this sixth installment to a welcome close. Lately (and luckily), my most recent picks have been better across the board, with this batch offering a treasure of great films, each worth seeking out and watching. Keeping up with SIFF procedure, these brief reviews are kept to only 75 words so you can read them fast, I can write them fast and the studio’s happy. In my pursuit to oust my opinion without breaking regulation, look out for mini-review after mini-review as I get closer to hitting that magic number of 40 films for SIFF’s 40th anniversary. So, short and sweet reading for you, much more time for movie watching for me. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Obvious Child

dir. Gillian Robespierre star. Jenny Slate, Jake Lacy, Gaby Hoffmann, Gabe Liedman (USA)

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Gaby Hoffman is dumped, fired and knocked up in the short span of a few weeks. As a stand-up comedian, she takes to the brick-walled stage to bear her scruffy soul to the captive audience of the club she frequents, armed with uncouth non-sequitors and filthy vaginal humor that’ll have some men (and even women) squirming in their seats. Hoffman’s decidedly feminist brand of humor is not unlike the highly trending small-chick-in-the-big-city of HBO’s Girls and its offspring, but her erratic raunch keeps affairs airy and laugh-heavy. (B-)

To Kill a Man (Matar a un hombre)

dir. Alejandro Fernández Almendras star. Daniel Antivilo, Daniel Candia, Ariel Mateluna, Alejandra Yañez (Chile)

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Kubrickian in style and score – with hauntingly symmetrical shots and eerie, creeping soundscapes – To Kill a Man is grippingly adept at manufacturing tension. When a neighborhood terror won’t leave his family alone, feeble everyman Jorge must weigh the social and psychological consequences of taking matters into his own hands. Almendras’ understated film is a thoughtful and poetic piece, achieved slowly and with great care, that never skimps on honest emotional reflection to get to the heart of this chilling true tale. (B+)

Night Moves

dir. Kelly Reichardt star. Jesse Eisenberg, Dakota Fanning, Peter Sarsgaard, Alia Shawkat (USA)

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A quiet, moody thriller that sees a band of three ecoterrorists – though I don’t think they’d take to that moniker – plot to take out a dam and the consequences that follow. At times appearing overindulgent in its environmentalist mindset, the well-defined classical three-act structure unravels into an open-ended nightmare that has destroyed its own political prejudices by the time the credits rolls. Night Moves is The East meets Taxi Driver with Jesse Eisenberg offering a haunted lead performance amidst a welcome return to form for the elder Fanning. (B)

The Internet’s Own Boy: The Story of Aaron Swartz

dir. Brian Knappenberger (USA)

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An excellent documentary focused on Aaron Swartz, an internet whizkid who gave key notes speeches along Harvard professors at only 12 before ending his own life at 25. Knappenberger’s stirring doc amounts to a serious indictment of a disharmonious America that values corporations over citizens and censorship over progress. In a society domineered by dishonesty and boundless enterprising, Swartz’s quest for something more amounts to a unwavering picture of corruption in our country’s prix-fixe adage of “be the best you can be.” (B+)

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Click through for more recap segments and stay tuned for the next collection of four in this whopping ten part series.

Part 1: JIMI: All is By My Side, Zip Zap and the Marble Gang, Hellion, Fight Church 
Part 2: Cannibal, The Double, Time Lapse, Another
Part 3: Half of a Yellow Sun, Mirage Men, The Trip to Italy, Starred Up
Part 4: Difret, The Fault in Our Stars, The Skeleton Twins, In Order of Disappearance
Part 5: Willow Creek, Firestorm, Mystery Road, 10,000 KM

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Talking with Jim Mickle of COLD IN JULY

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Last October, I spoke with Jim Mickle about We Are What We Are, a subversive cannibal thriller, but this year he’s back with something bigger, bolder and all around better: Cold in July. While a truly remarkable film in its own right, Jim’s journey to make the film – a process that lasted nearly a decade – is equally intriguing. Read on to find out how he landed Michael C. Hall in the lead role, avoiding cliches in 2014, homaging films of the 80s, a potential sequel of sorts, and how to really make a genre movie pop.

 

Before we hop in let me just tell you how much I liked this film. Just awesome, awesome work. I really enjoyed it.

Jim Mickle: Thank you very much.

It’s currently sitting around my top 10 of the year and I’ve seen 80 new films, so—

JM: Thank you very much, that’s awesome.

Yeah, really good work. So let’s talk about the movie itself. I love how the most minute moments of chance really alter the course of the characters in this story. So much so that their paths are irrevocably altered by these roadblocks or realizations that they or we never expected. I’m wondering, isn’t this structure-less structure much closer to real life than everything just going according to plan?

JM: (laughs) Yeah, I think it is. I love that too. I remember there is a moment early on— there’s a scene where they find something in the trunk of a Nova. There’s a moment when Don comes up and he kicks it and the trunk just pops open somehow. I remember at some point the financiers were saying, “Why? That feels stupid, it’s dumb— he just kicks it.” And I said, “That’s exactly what this movie is about.” The entire movie is built on these near miss things that don’t miss, and it’s a little bit of a fantasy of what if all of these things did happen, they did catch, these near misses and accidents— if all of these things did go that way— the chain reaction or the butterfly effect of that.

You said that one of the things that intrigued you about the project was kind of the same thing that made others nervous about it— and that is that it didn’t really adhere to formula. For me, that’s why the movie is so alluring. Because we truly never know where it’s going to go next. Can you talk about subverting expectations and leading the audience into these new uncharted territories?

JM: Yeah. That’s what I loved from the book. I think audiences want that and I think people are afraid to do that. I think a movie like this, if doesn’t work, the financiers get dinged by their boss. If it doesn’t have a guy with a cape or whatever, they go into all of these specific things that just work in this territory. You know, the beauty of it, it was written in 1989, 25 years ago, I think it was a much less commercial time in a weird way for storytelling. If you look at the movies in the 80’s— I used to look at them and laugh and said they’re all terrible— but if you go back and look at those thrillers, narratively there is so much more ambition than the stuff that they do now. Now you get one idea, one concept, and then let’s see how we can milk that one concept for a franchise of movies. These are awesome movies. These are movies that are sort of free to be themselves. The fact that I felt a little longing for a genre that floated away or dissolved away and wanted to bring all of those things back. It felt both familiar yet completely unexpected.

That’s really why it works so well, you find just the right balance between them. Let’s talk about Michael C. Hall in this. He finds this perfect nook between some of the more iconic characters that he’s played on premium television and then something else entirely new. He’s able to play both that nervous spirit and some of the more violent tendencies in this one character. So why was he for you the right casting choice for this project?

JM: He’s an amazing actor. Amazing, amazing actor. It took me a while to accept him as Dexter because I was such a lover of Six Feet Under.

Me too.

JM: You don’t often see actors like that who are able to go so fluidly into a character and create a living breathing human being that it feels wrong when they go and do something else. It’s amazing. Yet there’s these roles that you see him in, Gamer and a couple things, that are not amazing movies at all but he is so committed and he is so god-damned good at it— and he completely creates it, it seems like a new actor that you’ve never seen before. And I love the idea that he’s really spent 14 years playing these two characters and yet still has had these amazing characters in him that he was finally able to have a chance to play. So, that was a lot of fun. That was a lot of fun. I always wanted Dane’s character to be a little bit of an anonymous everyman and the fact that you could get somebody like Michael to comes off of Dexter and really jump into a completely different look and a completely different feel was the perfect fit.

I also got the sense of Robert DeNiro from Cape Fear in that first iteration that we see from Sam Shepard’s character. Were there any films— I know you were talking about the noir, pulpy films of the 80s— that you were in particular willingly homaging?

JM: Yeah, I think elements of a lot of things. Night of the Hunter being a huge one. I have a poster of that. I had a great mondo poster of that on the wall in the hotel where we were shooting. That was kind of a great reminder. So that, you know, Cape Fear, moments of Clute, Blood Simple, Lost Highway. I have a giant stack of DVDs here on my shelf I’m going to look at. Roadhouse, you know, Patrick Swayze. It was a big mix of stuff. I usually don’t like to say we’re making “this” movie and use no one example, but we used moments from a lot of different stuff. There will be a lot of screen-grabs and stuff. Sometimes for the cutting of a scene or the camera movements of a scene. In Blood Simple when Emmet Walsh was going down the hallway with the gun towards the bedroom — that’s almost shot for shot what we’re doing in the beginning when Michael’s coming down the hallway. It’s a love of that stuff and also hopefully it rekindles those movies in a way without trying to ape any of those movies.

Obviously this is a big step forward from some of your earlier projects, both in terms of the performers you’re working with, the production value, story and scale. Do you find it more of a challenge working on this bigger material or do you think it comes naturally to you? Do you want to keep scaling up or is this kind of the right size project for you?

JM: I think we have to scale up. I think just for sustainability’s sake. It’s a bittersweet thing, because in a lot of ways there’s no better experience than Stake Land which was half a million bucks— and a lot of people worked on that for free just for the love of movies— and that’s something that worked out kind of beautifully— but at the same time it’s not sustainable. Once you start getting higher up, once you start dealing with unions, once you get into these things you sort of have to take these big steps, you can’t just take baby steps anymore. There were moments when I really felt like we hit a ceiling. There was a moment one time we were shooting the bottles and the jars and the cans. He’s firing all six shots of the gun— we couldn’t afford to go through all of the blanks that quickly so I had to tell him at some point, “Tim, do you mind shooting every other shot and then faking the one in between, and I’ll add digitally another shot in there?” It’s that kind of stuff we can’t keep playing with obviously. It does come naturally, partly because the movie has been in our lives for years. We’ve read the book and adapted it that long ago. It’s been around in our lives so long so it was easy to be sort of obsessed and know every nook and cranny of the story and the characters. We were finally mature enough and confident enough to be able to do it. I think had we done it as just one movie it would have been a very different movie— it would have been less risky, stylistically it wouldn’t have been as interesting. We probably would have done it a lot more straight forward and I think by doing that a lot of the fun of making the movie and making the movie that feels like other movies— all of the meta things that I think work about this probably wouldn’t have been in this version— we would have been more inclined to play it close to the vest.

Speaking of that, while there is no cannibalism going on Cold in July is still an irrevocably dark film. What draws you to such dark dark material?

JM: (laughs) I don’t know. I don’t know. I grew up loving horror movies and that was what influenced me forever. It’s funny, Sam would show up on the set— and he would see the moonlight that we used was this specific color of aqua blue, and it had a little green to it, and the effect of that was that camera looks blue but on set it actually looks green— so the nighttime he would always show up and say, “Oh man, we’re making a Carpenter movie— you’ve got that green light going again.” I don’t know if it’s the pessimism of the world, a pessimism of humans, of humanity. In life, I am about as carefree and as happy and go-lucky as can be. I find that I have to step back and look at the movies we’ve done and they’re just, you know, I’m sure to some people they’re scary.

Sure, but in a good way.

JM: Somebody two days ago, who I think had trouble looking at me in the eye, said “This movie is totally dark and really violent and bloody,” and I thought, “Really? wow, ok.”

So, I’m wondering, at the end of this story it kind of turns to this idea of, “Well, life goes on” with Dane kind of just like crawling back into bed. Have you thought of what’s in store for the characters next, and more importantly do you think that somebody like Dane can go back to a normal life?

JM: Yeah, that was the big question and for me the answer was “No” but it wasn’t a black and white one. Michael and I were talking the other day, we had shot that really early on. We shot that scene and the other day he was saying like, “Man, had we actually  shot that at the end of the movie, I wonder if I would have played that differently.” And then he went, “No, actually, I would have probably tried to convey something— and the whole idea of trying to control a blank feeling is where it needs to be.” Which I agree with. He can’t come home and look like Johnny Cash. He can’t come in dressed in all black, struttin’ in with cowboy boots. He’s still got to have an element of his gawkiness, he still has to have the duck boots and he still has to come in. He’s done it now and I think probably realizes this wasn’t the best thing. Had I not done what I did on my journey, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, because I didn’t do it, but now that I’ve done it, I also don’t know if I can live with myself— but I have to. I think that’s the real interesting message to send about this guy. It doesn’t solve everything but at least now he knows that he’s been tested.

Last we spoke you said you were going to take a breather once you wrapped up everything on Cold In July. Are you still in that stage or did you line up something new?

JM: Yes. I’m thinking about a couple movies right now, trying to see what would work next. They’re wildly, wildly different from each other and what we’ve done before, so that’s cool. And then the most concrete thing is we’re developing a TV series with the Sundance channel.

Oh, very cool.

JM: It’s based on Joe’s work, Joe Lansdale’s work. An ongoing series he has that actually Jim Bob, Don Johnson’s character, is in.

The same character from this?

JM: Same character.

That’s awesome.

JM: Yeah, I talked to Don and he said he’d do the series. We still have to figure out how to make all of that work. But he’s like a character that floats in and out of these series. Same with Michael’s character, floats in and out.

Very cool.

JM: Same world, late 80’s. Partners in crime kind of a thing. We’re writing pilots right now.

That sounds fantastic. I would love to see that. Any movies that you’re working on as well?

JM: Yes, we’ve had a couple sticks that I’d been kicking around before that we’re sort of getting back into and rewriting now. Those have been good. They’re challenging. They’re challenging in their own way and hopefully holds its own, does make some noise and helps gets those things off of the ground. And then a couple very interesting scripts I’ve read and fallen hard for. But seeing what that whole process is like.

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Out in Theaters: BLENDED

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You know you’re in trouble when people laugh at your production company sequence before the movie even starts. Alas, that’s where we’re at with Happy Madison and Adam Sandler. It’s the same tired schmaltz and shtick and spiel that it’s always been.

Blended employs the same combo we’ve seen too many times before: Drew Barrymore as a cute ditzy blonde, Sandler as the weird funny guy with a hard edge and a soft side. What spark they once had has gone stale. It’s like they’re really stuck in the 50 First Dates love-trap: now they’re trying to find something, anything that works. This combo used to be nougat. Now it just smells like nutsack.

Lauren’s (Barrymore) divorced with two little boys. Their characters revolve around typical boyhood challenges: the older one masturbates to pictures of his babysitter crudely taped to Playboys; the younger one sucks at baseball and his Dad (a douchey Joel McHale) never wants to play catch. Lauren organizes closets for “Closet Queens” with her friend Jen (Wendi McLendon-Covey, who seems to have taken acting lessons from the Grandma in The Room), who’s dating Dick from Dick’s Sporting Goods. Yeah, that Dick.

Jim (Sandler) manages a Dick’s alongside Shaquille O’Neal. His wife died of cancer (the film could’ve gone by the title 50 First Dead Mom Jokes), leaving him to struggle with three daughters: Hilary, Espn (named after his favorite TV network!) and Lou. Espn’s got Haley Joel Osment’s sixth sense when it comes to mommy: she saves a seat at the table for momma, she talks to her in her bedroom. Hilary (“Larry”) is a tomboy teen that daddy won’t let come out of her shell. Lou is a cute little girl who says “butthole.”

Jim takes Lauren on a date to Hooters, which goes swimmingly: she spits out hot buffalo shrimp and spills French onion soup all over herself, he drinks her beer. They end up hating each other. Let’s cut to the chase: afraid of being bad parents, they both get their hands on tickets “TO AFRICA!!!” without knowing that the other family’s going along with them. Typical shenanigans and bonding and romantic tension ensues. Do I have to say it? This premise is fucking terrible.

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“Is everyone ready to see the real Africa?” an African guy asks as they get off the plane. Blended leaves it at that. Sandler’s Africa never goes as far as to mention what part of Africa they’re in, or who these people are. Instead, we’re led to believe that the entire continent is filled with singing and dancing sweaty black folk surrounded by an endless safari of crocodiles, lions and elephants. The fact that Sandler so often uses “Africans” as entertainment and fodder for bad humor is downright offensive. Terry Crews leads an acapella group that follows Sandler and his crew around everywhere while singing stupid shit. Everyone is there to serve the rich white folk that have ventured their way into this “wilderness.” Sandler’s Africa is nothing but cheap accents and cheaper African garb.

But cheapest of all are the jokes, and gosh darn is there slapstick. Grandma’s crash into things on ATVs, Sandler falls into a vat of Dodo urine, Barrymore’s profession is mined for lesbian jokes, Adam tries to out-fart an elephant, the “Africans” say goofy African things, Barrymore catches her kid masturbating…the list goes on. You’d think they would’ve gotten tired of all these crap jokes: Blended is just 50 First Dates Does Africa.

Blended then tries to take on gender identity, in the most basic way possible. Sandler has difficulty as a father of three girls, while Barrymore just can’t figure out how to raise her two sons. Their simple solution: pops can buy the porn while momma buys the tampons. Throughout, there’s the assumption that men and women find figuring out the opposite sex impossible. Sandler doesn’t want to let his daughters out of their tomboy casing, but his girls just want to dress up and look pretty. Barrymore’s boys want to be good at sports and the older one is constantly horny. Screenwriters Clare Sera and Ivan Menchell don’t know what to do with their characters, so they resort to the same conclusion every dimwit always seems to come to: boys have penises and girls have vaginas.

Sandler’s Rotten Tomatoes page is more verdant than a fresh can of Green Giant. You’ve gotta go down a long ways until you can find anything worthwhile. Grown Ups 2? Why is this a thing? That’s My Boy? Try again. Just Go With It? I’ll go without, thanks. Grown Ups? Groan. Jack and Jill? Fuck no.

What’s happened to Sandler is truly a disaster. Trust me; I’ve seen The Wedding Singer at least thirty times. It’s classic Adam: quirky, brooding, clever, timeless slapstick. Happy Madison is the same way. Back then he could afford to gamble, to put himself out there. Now his ruminating, dark comedy shtick just comes off as sad: all that’s left is a depressive sack that can’t cope with getting old, fat and tired while watching his kids grow up. His well ran dry somewhere in between Grandma’s Boy and You Don’t Mess with the Zohan and he’s been scraping at brick since then.

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Funny People
(directed by Judd Apatow) was Sandler’s last great movie: a movie about comedians that’s not funny and doesn’t try to be. There, we saw Sandler’s dark side: George Simmons, a lonely, lost, scared comedian who’s afraid to be a nobody and even more afraid to be famous. Sandler’s Simmons wasn’t funny. His stuff was sad. But his vulnerability came out. Funny People was fitting because we saw Seth Rogen and Jonah Hill—new blood, the hot kids in town challenging him for his thrown—right next to Sandler. The truth is, they were funnier. Sandler didn’t need anyone to tell him that because he saw it up close: no one wants to see a 47-year old guy do a little boy voice anymore.

One has to wonder where the self-reflective Sandler went. Maybe he’s too afraid to be vulnerable, or he’s still clinging to the glory days. Really, the same should be said for Drew Barrymore too. They’ve earned each other. Blended was the appropriate title for this place in their careers: at this point, everything seems to mix together into nothingness.

I’ve been racking my brain trying to find out why Blended was even made, and who it was made for. Really, who is the demographic here? It boggles the mind. Maybe this one will go over well in old folks’ homes and at the zoo. Anyone older than 12 can’t possibly like this stuff, right? I would tell you not to go see this film, but you don’t need me to tell you that: Sandler’s name already did the work for me.

Can you still call yourself a comedian if people are laughing at you?

D

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