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Out in Theaters: MCFARLAND USA

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Apparently there’s a place in America called McFarland. Home of the “pickers”, flatlands of the Meheecans, McFarland is California-as-fly-over-state and the perfect staging grounds for an inspirational underdog story. Almost Steinbeckian in its desperate position of agricultural purgatory, McFarland is a training grounds for drop-outs and inmates, the kind of small town that plants their state pen adjacent to their high school with traffic between the two state institutions resembling the systematic marching of ants. But the days of crop picking woes are thrown out the window when a white man sport (cross country running) rears its dignified head and the white man (Kevin Costner) saves the day.

Hollywood has a long history of the flipping the noble savage equation on its head, planting a savior of a white dude in a pit of assorted-colored serpents and seeing what happens when you mix things up. Cool Runnings did it with Jamaicans and bobsleds, James Cameron did it with CGI and the Na’vi, Stand and Deliver did it with James Olmos and Math. In McFarland USA, Disney does it with distance-running Mexicans. It’s the seventh son of a scheming formula that’s as crowd-pleasing as it is emotionally manipulative. And if anyone does emotionally-manipulative right, it’s Disney. Sometimes.

Costner is Jim White, a high-school football coach who gets the proverbial boot when he hucks a cleat at a sassy quarterback and ends up knicking his country club face. It’s one of those classic coaching accident. No pain, no gain right? Unfortunately Coach Taylor’s “clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” doesn’t really apply when you rough up the ol’ student athlete population. Fired and marked with the scarlet letter of “abuser of children”, White has few options on his once silver platter and is forced to uproot his family of four. Arriving in the dusty nowhere of McFarland, the Whites – if this weren’t based on a true story, the choice of last name would earn far more commentary – are faced with the harsh reality that their the only white face in a hundred mile stretch and the only chow joints in town are taquerias. And they don’t even serve burgers.

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The White family fits into the town like pepperoni pizza into a tamale. Realizing they’re in hostile territory when a bunch of low-riders cruise by bumping the bass (a terrifying prospect), White vows to wife Maria Bello that he’ll get his family out of his Mexican-inhabited lion’s den with two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Playing the oh-so-intriguing role of “supportive wife”, she backs Jim out of his fight-or-flight instinct with the calm rationale that he’s about as desirable a teacher as Mama June is a bikini model. She might have suited up just fine back in her heyday but nowadays the prospects of such a fit aren’t so hot.

As is expected with these kinds of films, Costner’s White becomes an integral part of the community in less time than it takes a Kenyan to clock in a mile, recruiting himself for a position as a cross country coach (met with your standard issue ignorancia response of “cross country what?”) and assembling a sextet of hardworking, fast-running Mexican students because “Damn, look at that boy run!” When he locks down casual sprinter/day-laborer-in-the-making Thomas (Carlos Pratts) – who also serves as a low-broiling love interest for White daughter Julie (Morgan Saylor; 21 playing 15) – the prospects of a McFarland cross country team begins to bloom. The dustbowl of a town sees its first true spark of promise rising like the harsh sun above their endless fields of cabbage.  

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The ups and downs of McFarland USA are as calculatedly high and low as the mounds of discarded almond shells that the runner boys practice on. Dramatic tension is invented for no reason beyond an assumed need for dramatic tension – the Quinceañera parade scene being an aggressive offender of bait-and-swing melodramatic hogwash AND a complete editing miff – while various character arcs are forecast from the moment they arrive on set. A roguish hero with a troubled past overcomes the odds to become a champion, you say? How novel.

That isn’t to say that it doesn’t actually work though. In fact, McFarland USA can be downright rousing, with Antônio Pinto‘s soaring eagle score (complimented by Terry Stacey‘s flag-brandishing cinematography) borderline forcing you at sonic gunpoint to tearfully cheer on its underdogs, even through hard-trained knowledge that McFarland‘s outcome will be as predictably cheerful as a Quinceañera in Beverly Hills. It’s the kind of heart-warming Disney sports movie that serves up its schmaltz in thick, gooey gobs, the brand of pick-me-upper to bring your little league team to but never bother to dig into the meaning behind it. Because beyond the surface layer of faux inspiring hooey balooey, there really isn’t much else there. After all, McFarland USA, or How Kevin Costner Saved the Mexicans From Picking More Crops, doesn’t actually concern itself with going beneath the skin. Even if it did, there really isn’t much else there that needs to be said. Or seen.

C

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Out in Theaters: DRAFT DAY

 

“Draft Day”
Directed by Ivan Reitman

Starring Kevin Costner, Jennifer Garner, Chadwick Boseman, Frank Langella, Sean Combs
Sports, Drama
120 Mins
PG-13

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Every year, one sports movie comes out of nowhere to become a classic. Last year, that honor belonged to Ron Howard’s Rush. This year, that honor might belong to Draft Day.

 

Rarely do I find myself enjoying Chris Berman’s blowhard baritone. Yet, something about hearing his voice as shots of the NFL Draft at Radio City in New York fly by made my heart beat. Draft Day, a propaganda film of the most subtle kind, calls upon an inner craving for America’s greatest sport in a time of absence: football.

Kevin Costner is back to star in another sports movie, this time as Sonny Weaver Jr., the Cleveland Browns’ general manager and chief decision-maker. Cleveland hasn’t been good at football, well, seemingly ever. With a top-10 draft pick and a chance to change the franchise forever, pressure mounts for Costner and his girlfriend Jennifer Garner, the team’s Salary Cap Manager who’s pregnant with his baby and salary cap knowledge.

Shit’s hitting the fan for Costner, who must decide between three players: the ‘local legacy,’ the ‘star QB’ and the ‘hardworking heart kid.’ Things start off pretty rough: he trades away three 1st round draft picks to get the 1st overall pick. Players rage over the decision, coaches applaud, Twitter explodes and the team’s owner (Frank Langella) tells Costner his job’s on the line.

Of course, there are other problems going on here too. Costner’s not ready to be a dad as his father just passed away, his secretary’s on vacation, and he just can’t figure out what to do with that top button on his dress shirt. To non-football fans, there’s enough fluff (a ticking clock, beautiful people and a decent romance) to make it worthwhile. Don’t get me wrong though: this movie is 100% football.

Aerials of football stadiums across the nation (notably CenturyLink Field in Seattle) fly you right into the action—there’s no better way to set the stage than a team’s home stadium and screaming fans. Coaches and General Managers cuss each other out over salary cap numbers, draft picks, and young football players with two first names.

Whether it’s incredibly real football highlights of young players concussing each other at game-speed or real-life talking heads going at it (the aforementioned Chris Berman, Mel Kiper, Jon Gruden and Deion Sanders to name a few), everything looks, smells, feels, tastes and sounds real. Filmed at the actual 2013 NFL Draft and on location at the Browns’ headquarters, NFL’s got its ‘authentic’ stamp all over it. Even NFL star running back Arian Foster shows up to act. Draft Day gets adrenaline flowing like Opening Day.

Only, watching Draft Day is like working your ass off all preseason only to tear your ACL stretching before the first game of the year—well, except for the excruciating pain part. There’s so much football that you’re left with a massive pair of blue balls once you realize that there’s no actual football in it. It’s more offseason than regular season: it’s a two-hour foreplay session with Kate Upton. Hey, at the end of the day you’re still hooking up with Kate Upton.

Draft Day wants you to lust after it—the fame, the flair, the football. Stadiums and team buildings are gorgeous, the actors are all handsome, New York’s lights shine off of players’ bleach-white teeth. It’s The Blind Side from the hind side, Jerry Maguire if Tom Cruise could sext.

Seriously, everyone’s in this movie. Kevin Costner, Jennifer Garner, Chadwick Boseman (Jackie Robinson in last year’s decent 42), Frank Langella, Denis Leary and P.Diddy/Sean Combs/Diddy Combs even pulls a Jay-Z to act as the potential number one draft pick’s slimy agent.

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Costner looks like Brett Favre and plays like Andrew Luck. He wields a football like a NYPD Chief brandishes a .45 caliber pistol. His grizzled look that didn’t work in 3 Days To Kill works well in the confines of a football compound, his cool demeanor amplifying as time begins to run out while rumors and numbers fly all around him. Costner’s calm in the huddle, a flawed but passionate quarterback leading his team through the tunnel. He makes random decisions on the fly, tosses draft picks around like hot cakes and lays his balls on the table at every moment. He’s so jittery and reckless you figure he might be high on painkillers: he’s Whim Irsay.

On the other side of the spectrum acting spectrum we find Garner, who seems completely out of place and out-matched by her peers. Garner’s repeated attempts at realistic football-speak end up sounding more like she’s reading factoids off the back of a Wheaties box. She brings the movie down.

Chadwick Boseman’s role is notable here. As Ohio State Linebacker Vontae Mack (the aforementioned ‘hardworking heart kid’), he’s thrilling. His manner is completely changed from 42, he’s much more light-hearted and clever. His relationship with Costner is almost father-son, calling on him for help when he needs it and throwing a tantrum when he doesn’t get what he wants. Boseman might be the best in this movie.

As the clock hits zero, Draft Day will likely go down as the year’s best sports movie. Though non-football fans might find it a hard pill to swallow, the elements of a great story are there in spades. For football fans, this film will be like watching the Food Channel on a diet. Draft Day always plays more like fantasy football than real football. It might be more addicting.

Another Sunday’s come and gone without pigskin. How many weeks till football?

B+

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Out in Theaters: 3 DAYS TO KILL

“3 Days to Kill”
Directed by McG
Starring Kevin Costner, Amber Heard, Richard Sammel, Tómas Lemarquis, Connie Nielsen
Action Crime, Drama
113 Mins
PG-13

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When 3 Days to Kill first rolled, I was convinced I’d mistakenly wandered into another Taken sequel. The premise is pretty much exactly the same save the kidnappings; instead, “dangerous” international spy Ethan Renner (Kevin Costner) only has three months to live. Just like in Taken, the protagonist has been separated from his wife and now wants to reconnect with his teenage daughter (Hailee Steinfeld, True Grit) whom he doesn’t spend much time with. 3 Days to Kill is even conveniently set in Paris, and director McG (Charlie’s Angels, We Are Marhsall) makes no attempt to conceal that fact. And, of course, just like Neeson’s bad-ass Bryan Mills, Costner’s Ethan tortures and/or kills everyone. The comparisons never stop.

Beyond that, exposition in this film is so hurried and obscure that any sort of motive or coherent plot is hard to follow. Along with Vivi, — a “sexy” CIA agent portrayed by Amber Heard — Ethan is assigned to hunt and kill two guys codenamed “The Wolf” (Richard Sammel) and “The Albino” (Tómas Lemarquis). In exchange, the CIA gives him an “experimental drug” to cure his brain cancer, which comes in an overly ominous 20ml syringe and has some nasty side-effects. Ethan is left to juggle his job (and life) while trying to keep a hold on his family.

A steam-rolling, no-frills killer, Ethan dresses like an off-duty World War I fighter pilot: he’s outfitted with a grey wool scarf, faded blue jeans and a brown bomber jacket. He’s everything a spy shouldn’t be: grizzled, garish, gasping and God-awful looking in a suit. Sweaty and paunch-bellied, Costner always looks like he needs a nap. He’s James Yawn, the Worn Identity.

Costner’s set of skills isn’t as particular as Neeson’s were, either. In fact, he doesn’t seem to be good at much other than murdering Frenchmen and blowing shit up in plain sight without anyone noticing. To top that off, his reaction to the experimental drug’s side-effects always kicks in right when he’s about to cap the baddies, leaving him woozy and wheezing before blacking out on the floor. As such, Ethan finishes missions like a nice guy with a vasectomy.

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His inability to get the job done doesn’t really matter though; it’s never quite clear what exactly his mission is even supposed to be except a way to conveniently draw the plot out long enough for Ethan to teach his daughter how to ride a bike and dance the waltz.

Why the bad guys even need to be killed in the first place is so poorly established that it’s preposterous. The Albino is presumed to be debauched due to his austere fetish for murder by eccentric decapitation — at one point he takes a female agent’s head off via descending elevator shaft — though why that makes him an enemy of the state is beyond me. Maybe his hairlessness presents an unknown challenge to the American livelihood.

As for The Wolf… Well, I have no clue what Sammel’s role even was. He only appears for the film’s first and last five to ten minutes, and by the end his character or importance is completely forgotten. The Wolf’s only crime in the entire film was ruining a nice dinner party. It’s never made clear why the CIA wants him dead. That’s never a good thing for a supposed main villain.

Most spy films these days are predictable and formulaic, and 3 Days to Kill was no exception. Apart from some original moments, the plot was stagnant, unoriginal and pretty much the concept Taken would have been if Neeson’s family had remained intact instead. At 100 minutes, McG seemed to feel like he had three days to fill. It certainly felt longer than that.  

All that said, everything besides the makeshift plot and confusing narrative was actually really well executed. In addition to the beautiful mise-en-scène — McG took every opportunity to show off the Eiffel Tower — this film was surprisingly French, which is probably the reason why it wasn’t all terrible.

With almost an entirely French cast and crew, including writers Luc Besson and Adi Hasak, cinematographer Thierry Arbogast, and a score by Guillaume Roussel, 3 Days to Kill had all the familiar elements found in famous French spy series such as Le Gendarme and OSS 117 (which starred Jean Dujardin before he was a Swedish bank mogul laundering Jordan Belfort’s money or a silent film superstar). For an action film, it’s got enough not to bore. Costner kills like the plague: his body-count hits the half-century mark about 20 minutes in and rises exponentially from there.

The comedy is decidedly Français: clumsy, maladroit, and filled with foolish situational and corporeal humor. McG probably banked a little too much on over-the-top sound effects and old-man-on-a-girl’s-bike humor, but there were plenty of funny moments. Costner is more of a comical figure than he ever is badass, so he milks it.

3 Days to Fill is well-acted and McG made certain to have a resolution for every character involved. No stone was left unturned, and the film wraps up the mangled plot as cleanly as possible. Costner as a poor man’s Liam Neeson works fairly well, and the father-daughter relationship between him and Steinfeld is heart-warming at times. The Wolf and The Albino are terrible villains, but they’re at least entertaining. There’s talent in nuggets here; McG does a good job of mining it.

When it comes down to it, 3 Days to Kill exceeds expectations like a 4th grader jumping hurdles at the district track meet. Costner has come a long way since his Ta Tanka and Two Socks chasing days with the Dakota Souix, but this Dance With Wolf just didn’t make me howl.

C-

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