Wedding Crashers Movie Review

Wedding Crashers

Movie Review

Wedding Crashers is the film that shifted the adult comedy paradigm. Before it was released industry hacks were convinced that adult comedies couldn't do numbers in the upper echelons. Wedding Crashers took in $285,000,000 worldwide during its big screen run, and is a major part of the reason why films like The Hangover are getting made.

The outline is one that could fit onto the back of a postage stamp, or be displayed on a grain of rice, such is it's simplicity. Friends John (Owen Wilson) and Jeremy (Vince Vaughan) are wedding crashers. Thats not a Cronenburg-type sexual fetish which demands they drive their cars into wedding receptions and have sex in the ensuing carnage. Rather they turn up uninvited to weddings and, using a combination of bravado and research into the wedding party, bluff their way in. All is going swimmingly until they attend the nuptials of the daughter of US Treasury Secretary William Cleary (played by Christopher Walken). In the act of trying to sleep with the bride's two remaining sisters, the boys endear themselves to the family a little too well, and are invited to the post-reception get together at the family home. By this stage John is falling in love with Claire Cleary (Rachel McAdams) and Jeremy is falling decidedly out of lust with her sister Gloria (Isla Fisher in a career-making role). The two feuding friends must wend their way through a minefield of inappropriate grandmothers, creepy brothers and dangerous fiances if they're both to get what they want from this particular crash.

Wedding Crashers is in my top five films of the last five years. There, I said it (or to be more accurate, wrote it). Not The Squid and the Whale, not Dark Knight, not most of the multitude of equally deserving high concept movies put to market in the last half decade. An adult oriented, sometimes - well, if truth be told, mostly - crude comedy ranks in the highest percentile of films I have viewed since 2004. And the biggest reason why is because it is infinitely watchable.

The term Desert Island Discs is thrown around all too much when it comes to music, but there doesn't seem to be an equivalent for film. Never is an interviewed director asked to imagine themselves as a castaway on part of a remote archipelago, with nothing but time to kill and a small selection of movies to watch; his Desert Island Digital Versatile Discs if you will. What would he choose, and what would be the criteria for those choices?

It is my opinion that one criterion should be that any film chosen should be capable of being viewed multiple times without self-induced hair loss. Its all very well to say that you like, for instance, last year's Aronofsky classic The Wrestler, but that's really a once-every-five-years movie at most. Any more than that will require a trip to the pharmacy to fill a prescription for some powerful anti-depressants.

Some directors consistently produce films that are endlessly watchable. Stanley Kubrick was one such man. On average I watch a Kubrick film once every six to nine months, that timeline only being elongated by the fact that his films don't regularly pop up on TV; not regularly enough anyway. While I no longer think that a string of Kubrickian gold will flow from David Dobkin's directors chair (2007's Fred Claus put paid to that fantasy), I do think that he – along with newcomer screenwriters Steve Faber and Bob Fisher – have accomplished something that most filmmakers never do in crafting a movie which I take time out to watch every time it appears on TV. Add to that the fact that its repeatedly being pulled from my DVD collection and I must have seen it at least fifteen times in the last four years.

Why? Well, the story for starters. Faber and Fisher have plotted a cleverly coarse tale of two crashers, featuring well realised – if a little unsubtle - characters, a killer plot, and machine-gun dialogue packed with the same level of quotable gems as a Golden Era Simpsons episode. A film's IMDb quotes page doesn't get to be this long by pure chance. Whats more, the popularisation of the verb “Motor Boat”, at least in my mind, can be traced directly back to this flick, and praise doesn't come much higher than when a movie manages to insert a new phrase – however boorish - into the public consciousness.

The wonderful cast features three frat pack alumni; Owen Wilson, Vince Vaughan and a cameo by Will Ferrell. While both Wilson and Ferrell have their moments this is Vince Vaughan's movie. He doesn't really stand out from surrounding performances during the first act. The reason for this is that his character is on the same page as Wilson's. However, once his fellow crasher starts demanding extra time with his quarry, and unsuspectingly dropping his buddy into some compromising situations in the process, Vaughan's quick-fire sarcastically disgruntled delivery comes good and the second act winds up being the best of the three.

If you still hanker for more, then this Commandment-like crasher's rulebook makes good reading. Meanwhile, one thinks one shall retire to the island TV cave with a dry martini, a copy of the movie, and a book on outboard engines.

9/10

Good Will Hunting Movie Review

Good Will Hunting

Movie Review

Close your eyes and open up your mental landscape; I want to spin a little scenario for you. You go in to buy petrol on your way home from work and notice that they sell lottery tickets. You've never bought one before, but decide that it might be fun to have a bit of a gamble with your spare change. So you shove the ticket in your pocket and promptly forget about it. Until three weeks later that is when you discover it and find out that oh, you've just won the rollover jackpot. That must have been how Matt Damon and Ben Affleck felt when Good Will Hunting came out. Their first attempt at writing a script and, besides winning an Oscar, it turns out to be one of the best and most watchable movies ever written, launching über-successful careers for both.

Luck only goes some way to accounting for the success of this movie; the talent on display here – acting, writing and directing – is what carries the boys' freshman effort far over the line. Some critics though had a hard time ascribing the necessary screenwriting chops for such a critical and box office success to two young unknowns. Rumours surfaced that Affleck and Damon hadn't written the movie themselves, and that William Goldman – Screenwriter of Butch Cassidy and Marathon Man amongst others – had helped. The degree of this help varied depending on the source consulted, with some suggesting that Goldman had ghostwritten large chunks of material. When grilled, Goldman did admit that he had been consulted, but said that he merely provided direction, nothing more.

Misdirected furore aside, what do we have here? Good Will Hunting is the story of a self-taught polymath from South Boston. Will Hunting (played by Matt Damon) works as a janitor in a local university, and in his spare time hangs around with his friends (Ben and Casey Affleck). An altercation between the group and some old enemies lands Will in court, not for the the first time. He's saved though by a professor in his university (Stellan Skarsgard), who has seen Will's proof of a particularly difficult mathematical problem which he posted for his students and wants to work with him. In return for not receiving a custodial sentence, Will must also see a psychiatrist (Robin Williams).

The cast do a phenomenal job, and its the newcomers lead the charge from the front. Matt Damon is involved and involving as Will. He changes gears between vulnerable, sarcastic, charming and intellectual without missing a beat, and occupies his screen time with the aplomb of a twenty-year acting veteran.

Godd Will Hunting showcases Ben Affleck as an audience may never see him again. The actor, in his pre-leading man, post-mallrats (where his character liked to have sex with girls in an uncomfortable place) phase is eminently humorous and vitriolic but ultimately endearing as Will's bestie Chuckie. On the strength of this performance alone I'm willing to go on record with Kevin Smith as having a man crush on the future half of two Beniffers (coincidentally, Smith gets a co-producer credit with his long time collaborator Scott Mosier for bringing the film from Castle Rock to Miramax in turnaround). The scene where he explains to Will that he'll beat the shit out of him if he's still hanging round Southie in ten years is both the peak of the flick and Affleck's performance.

The Matt Damon besotted Minnie Driver shows that although it may be hard on your off-screen life, falling in love with your co-star produces a scintillatingly genuine performance (her best to date by a rather large margin). Even Casey Affleck gives a nod to the acting potential which he is now fulfilling.

The old guard aren't to be outdone by the newbloods though. Stellan Skarsgard puts on his usual dynamic clinic as fields medalist Gerald Lambeau. If there were a stanardised movie knowledge IQ test which posed the following question: Best Robin Williams film of the eighties is to Good Morning Vietnam as best Robin Williams film of the nineties is to ____________, the answer would be Good Will Hunting. He's more World According to Garp than Patch Adams in tone (which is good – very good), but with Garp's rougher edges refined. Add to this a squirt of the world weariness of a man who's been through the same tribulations that he hears from his patients and you've got one of the most memorable psychiatrist-patient relationships in motion picture history. He's nearly as good value for his Best Supporting Actor Oscar as the boys for their Best Original Screenplay statue.

Even though its hard to miss during viewing, none of the buffalo was wasted on this film. Do you ever watch a really good movie but maybe once or twice it throws up scenes that just feel a little off? The film is still very watchable, but you can't help but notice a bit of downtime in between where the story planes off at a slight tangent and where it rejoins the meaty part of the plot. Well, that was a feeling I didn't during the watching of this film, and some credit for that must go to the director, Gus Van Sant. Recently becoming a two-time best director nominee for Milk, his first came for this piece.

Fair enough, you have to put it in perspective; with material like this you probably could have filmed the actors giving their lines against a white background and the end product would have had a modicum of success, but Van Sant adds some much needed legitimacy to the fledgling script and film makers. His direction doesn't need to perform any tricks to augment the film. What it does do though is call attention away from any of the screenplay's adolescent blemishes by providing the right visual. Its filmed in a manner which posits that all the locations and characters have been around for years, but oh, you've just happened upon them now? What good timing, well let me show you this. The film even avoids the characteristic mid-movie slump, and I can't think of many which pull that feat off. How do you like them apples indeed.

If you haven't seen this movie, see it, and if you didn't like it first time around, watch it again, and again until you realise how impossibly wonderful it is. And, while you're watching, if you still don't get it, just tell yourself that its not your fault. Its not your fault. Its not your fault.

9.5/10

Public Enemies Movie Review

Public Enemies

Movie Review

Some filmmakers never learn. Unfortunately, the same goes for some filmgoers. The last Michael Mann movie I went to was Miami Vice, and I began nodding off about halfway through that; something I almost never do, and certainly not, as in that case, during an action scene. I recently saw Public Enemies, and promptly began dozing about half an hour into this turgid period gangster piece.

So, what was wrong? Nothing for the first five minutes or so. The film opens with John Dillinger (Johnny Depp) breaking what comes to be his gang out of Indiana State Prison. Its a nice tight, exciting opener, made better with some well chosen camera shots (one in particular stands out – a gorgeous wide shot with Depp at its centre which pans with his movement to reveal the prison as backdrop).

Unfortunately, the film fails to reach the foothills of that involving opening again, wasting its not inconsequential running time on cliché dialogue and plot and a toothless, uninteresting storyline. There was obviously far too much attention paid to creating the elegant 1930's depression-era setting and not enough time put into crafting a well-oiled script.

The movie is based on a non-fiction book about bank robber John Dillinger's life, written by Bryan Burroughs and turned into a screenplay by, among others, the film's director Michael Mann. Burroughs praised the writing saying that, “it's by far the closest thing to fact Hollywood has attempted, and for that I am both excited and quietly relieved.” Well Bryan, don't speak too fast because scripts have a tendency to look good on paper if nowhere else.

I remember the exact moment when I went from thinking that the film was salvageable, to wondering about the mental capacities of the scriptwriters. Its about twenty minutes in and after the decent opening, the pace is beginning to slow, and the romantic interest in the form of Billie Frechette (Marion Cottilard) makes her appearance. As much as it sounds like a Human League lyric, Billie is working as a coatcheck at a cocktail bar when Dillinger meets her. Billie doesn't go for Dillinger at first though, and is just about to give him the bum's rush when an impatient customer starts haranguing her. Dillinger decides that the best way to deal with this gent is to give him a severe beating in front of the young lady. Why not, sure he's not doing too well anyway. Best to get his sexual aggression out here rather than the bathroom back home, right? But the camera switches to her, and oh yes; Frechette absolutely loves it, and agrees to see Dillinger again. Bang went my suspension of disbelief, and any goodwill had built up in the leading characters. From that point out Frechette deserves what she gets for shacking up with Dillinger, who is a madman, and an uninteresting one to boot. You can pull the curtain there and then because I don't care about the outcome anymore.

The cast in Public Enemies is all over the place. Depp gives a soulless performance as Dillinger. Now, the guys a bank robber and sociopath, so going down the “no soul” road is a good acting choice, but Depp is an actor who needs his bag of tricks to engage the audience; thats why Pirates of the Caribbean worked so well. If John Dillinger had a British accent, wore effete clothing, or had scissors for hands, then Depp might have shone, but as he had nothing on which to peg it, his performance flounders. Cottilard is passable as Frechette, even if the premise of her character's involvement is ludicrous, along with her dialogue with Depp (the "I'll protect you" lines are laughable). Christian Bale gives his usual brooding turn, regardless of what the role calls for, and as ever adds as much top lip overhang as audiences can stomach. There are some performances worth waking up for though; Giovanni Ribisi (who should be getting more high profile roles than guest spots on My Name is Earl) is engaging as Alvin Karpis and Billy Crudup, fresh off playing Doctor Manhattan in Watchmen, does a nicely judged J. Edgar Hoover.

It seems that Michael Mann is going to Lucasian lengths to ruin his really quite respectable reputation as a crime drama director. Manhunter and Heat are two of my favourite movies, and now I have to pay money to watch this shaky camera bollocks? Why? I would not have been surprised – and it probably would at least have made me take notice – if a Jar-Jar-esque Jamaican gangster had been slotted into Dillinger's gang, spouting dialogue like “Whassa Missa Dillinga? Weesa gonna hold up a bank? Yousa thinkin' yousa people gonna die.”

No doubt Mann will be back. Hollywood forgives a lot when you've made a movie like Heat; and Public Enemies has somehow managed to make double it's budget during it's theatrical run. But hopefully next time, before sitting down to a script, he will look to the tenets which made that film such a critical and popular success. And then refrain from doing the opposite.

1.5/10

Orphan Movie Review

Orphan

Movie Review

Do you remember what Christmas Eve was like as a child? Not the idealised version you remember now, mind you, but what it was actually like. I do. I would bounce around the house all day, like I had been tooting coke, wondering out loud – really loud – what santy would bring me the following morning. I feel sorry for my parents; if the day itself wasn't bad enough, they had had to put up with the building excitement – and annoyance – from the day they bought me my chocolate filled advent calendar. The real torture though, for all concerned, was bedtime. I didn't want to go, but my parents had some – ahem – things to take care of downstairs, so the sooner I was under the covers, the sooner they could get on with their appointed tasks and snatch three hours shuteye before I woke them.

The point of this story is that until I was in my teens I could almost guarantee that I would get little or no sleep that night. I would pass the hours looking at the ceiling, counting off the minutes until I would look at my alarm clock again. An agreed upon time for parent waking had been negotiated that day, and so I spent most of the time I wasn't tossing around the bed trying to decide how much earlier I could feasibly get them up, usually settling on just under half an hour. I'm sure there's something to be said for anticipation, and its ability to make an event sweeter, but I would have had a lot better time of things if I had been knocked out until the present opening. And watching Orphan, I was reminded of my annual childhood crescendos of anticipation.

I had somehow managed to be listening to a radio during most of the weeks film critic slots, and so had heard numerous times that although Orphan featured a lot of by the numbers Horror elements, it had a third act twist so different and ground shaking, that it apparently shook the entire critics screening from their cynical reverie. And that’s what drove me to see Orphan, a film which I would otherwise have left for the small screen.

The plot was as billed; standard Horror fare, albeit with a sampling of Thriller lobbed in. Kate (played by Vera Farmiga) and John Coleman (Peter Sarsgaard) are a middle aged, suburban American couple. They lose a child in utero before the film begins, although the movie opens with a horrendous, attention grabbing dream sequence depicting a fantastical version of the events. Flash-forward and the pair have decided to add to their two children – Max, their nearly deaf girl and their older (and somewhat dickish) son Daniel – by adopting. In steps the creepy Eastern European Orphan of the title, Esther. She charms the family, dad mostly, during their visit to a local Orphanarium, and they decide to wade straight in, signing papers to bring her home. Cue ever more strange goings on at the Coleman house and more than a few die-hardesque one-liners from Esther.

The most frustrating element of Orphan is that there's a lot of waiting involved. The plot never really unfolds fast enough to preclude the audience from thinking ahead. I used most of my downtime in between the long eerie tracking shots silences preceding jump scares to ponder story progression.

The thing is that the story in Horror films can, and probably should by nature, be pretty generic. Orphan is essentially a twist on the Omen, Shining, Children of the Corn line of strange child horror. It throws in the well worn “she was a horrible monster when you weren't here, but she's fine when you turn up. Why won't you believe me?” angle. A generic plot is acceptable, but it must at least move fast enough to bombard the audience to satisfaction. By and large, what sets successful horror flicks apart is a new and inventive implementation of the staple genre ideas, and how Zeitgeisty the film can be in holding a mirror up to current everyday fears. Orphan gets it’s pacing wrong, but succeeds in the latter, ploughing a new, or less used horror furrow.

Farmiga and Sarsgaard are a strange choice for the films leads. They're both from a background of generally smaller, less commercial fare, which fall outside typical Hollywood genre pieces. I can only imagine that three things brought them to Orphan. The chance to work with an emerging talent like director Jaume Collet-Serra, the aforementioned third act twist, and having an opportunity to bring something a bit more real to the current teens-being-butchered horror market created by Hostel and others.

So, what about the twist? Is it worth the price of entry? In other words, is it in the same league as Psycho, The Usual Suspects, The Shining and countless other memorable shock endings? In short, no. But, it is different, and well executed, and in horror, that’s nearly the whole battle. Probably the biggest compliment I can pay the ending is that I had managed – probably inadvertently – to guess the correct outcome, but dismissed it because I thought it was too far fetched. When it actually occurred though, the conceit felt natural, and kept the audience along for the ride.

It may be the adults' names at top billing, but the most mature performance of the film belongs to Isabelle Fuhrman. The twelve year old, in her second movie, reacts excellently to being put in a major role. Her portrayal of the hell child Esther could very well have ruined the movie if her tender years had shown, but she acquits herself admirably; her Russian accent is spot on and tonally she never puts a foot wrong. The child must have chameleons for parents.

The direction is well worth mentioning. One of the only non-script elements which helps Orphan to rise above the also-rans of the genre is Jaume Collet-Serra’s treatment of the material. It’s just different enough to warrant attention, without drawing that same attention from the narrative. The sense of style injected by a hundred subtle elements such as the sound of Max’s hearing aids being taken out makes the film more watchable. Finally, there is a slow motion kick just before the credits roll which made me wish I had a DVD pause function.

Was the end of Orphan like opening Christmas presents? Not exactly. So, I suppose that in that respect my analogy falls down. But Orphan is definitely worth a look if horror is your bag, and it certainly beats the squidgy clothes presents under any childhood Christmas tree.

6.5/10

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince Movie Review

Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince

Movie Review

The sixth installment in an eventual Potter octology of movies landed recently, amid the usual ball of publicity, public appearances and fans dressed as wizards. And, until I can make this critic thing pay, I'm stuck going to screenings with genpop; not an overly enjoyable prospect for one of the pre-adolescent events of the summer.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince takes up shortly before the new school year at Hogwarts. Following on from the events of Order of the Phoenix and the beginning of this movie, security has been ratcheted up a notch or two as the pupils return for their penultimate year's study. New teachers, an injured, out of sorts Dumbledore and the ever treacherous Draco Malfoy and Snape all swirl around the newly isolated school, making it as unsafe as the outside world.

The young cast are finally catching up with their elders in terms of acting ability. Daniel Radcliffe is very much the cookie cutter hero. He seems to have yielded his darker disaffected side, something interesting to watch in movies gone by, to the young Voldemort (played by Hero Fiennes-Tiffin and Frank Dillane), but he's definitely gaining some serious acting chops beneath his faux-childlike exterior. Emma Watson gives a predictable performance as Hermione, one which she has grown into with each passing installment, and her best yet. It is Rupert Grint, though, who truly stands above his contemporaries. His portrayal of Ron Weasley has morphed during the downtime between each film, reflecting the fast changing face of teenage years.

The depth of mature acting talent on show is at first unfathomable, but is presumably what keeps the more mature fans, and parents, coming back. Michael Gambon is brilliantly quirky as Dumbledore. His scenes help a long movie pass quickly. Jim Broadbent delightfully gurns his way through his role as potions teacher Horace Slughorn. Alan Rickman is... well, Alan Rickman. His Snape, besides being iconicly devious, is more than a little camp. Rickman lets the role down slightly though by telegraphing the character's ultimate intentions, somewhat alleviating the suspense hovering over one aspect of the Deathly Hallows plot.

It is undoubtedly David Yates (taking his second jaunt in the director's chair) and Steve Kloves (back as screenwriter, having being absent from Order of the Phoenix) who have the toughest jobs on this project. An actor deciding on a different interpretation of a character can be pardoned if it doesn't meet with fan expectations, but a misstep from either screenwriter or director can turn an expensive and financially rewarding franchise into the next Chronicles of Narnia.

Their contribution to this movie is unestimable. As the series went on, the Rowling books became more and more bloated – and enjoyable – and thus the exercise of filming and writing each subsequent offering increases exponentially. Plus, movies like Watchmen prove that slavishly following source material does a movie property no favours. The Kloves script is simultaneously simple and intricate. The scenes stack neatly on one another to form tight, interesting sequences. Pacing never lags and Frears gets the most from every member of the acting crew.

Half Blood Prince spends quite a while looking at the bubbling hormones of the Hogwarts pupils; understandable, given that the lovelives of various characters, both major and minor, were a major element in the books. The recreation is a true, if somewhat idealised (but then, that’s what films do, isn't it?) version of teen romance, and although the Ron and Hermione potential coupling is starting to feel like a one note joke played a few too many times, the Harry/Ginny romance is genuinely touching and overall this strand of plot works and works well.

It’s refreshing to find a summer blockbuster which doesn't rely on all the usual cliches. For this, and the stellar script, fantastic acting, appropriate special effects, catchy John Williams score, and multitude of other well thought out and implemented elements, I can't help but recommend this film.

There is an amusing footnote to my cinematic experience. As I started to gather my belongings, end credits rolling, the bank of young people in the row in front of mine began to exit. Throughout the entirety of the two hour-plus running time, they had been a pain in the arse, chatting loudly among themselves, using mobile phones – one had even begun proclaiming to his nearby friends that the film was crap, from about the half hour mark. But, as I exited, one of the Morlocks uttered a line of which Groucho Marx would have been proud. And so it was that I went home that evening, contemplating whether I should wait for the double DVD of Deathly Hallows with the words “That film didn't make any sense” ringing in my ears.

8.5/10