LANTANA

To sum up the plot of director Ray Lawrence's 'Lantana' is to run the risk of doing a great disservice to the film. When spoken of as a series of events, 'Lantana' is little more than a detective story, a whodunit in which we learn about the victim and the law enforcers in turn - the equal of nearly any episodic crime show on television.

Thankfully, 'Lantana' is about more than the events that take place within it. It's a film that trusts and relies on a glance as much as a murder, a nod of the head as much as a screaming match. The story examines its characters' lives until there is nowhere left to dig, their emotions and secrets painfully raw. There are no good or bad guys in 'Lantana,' only complex mixtures of both. In a uniformly exceptional cast, Anthony LaPaglia and Kerry Armstrong are especially successful at playing well-rounded human beings instead of 'types.' In a film at its core about trust, LaPaglia, Armstrong, and the rest aren't afraid to play with the audience's own trust. The story's explorations of love and fidelity may not be pleasant, but they are somehow beautiful.

'Lantana' is also visually beautiful. The composition of each frame of the film seems to have been planned in exacting detail, and camera movement is nearly always - if the movement of a camera can be said to be so - tender. All of this is true without drawing attention to its accomplishments. The pictures always serve the story without stylizing it.

Though the script increasingly relies on coincidence to make the plot work as it chugs along, the coincidences here are entirely earned. It takes no stretch of the imagination to see that these lives are intertwined by more than location or circumstance.

The last few minutes threaten to tie up all the film's frayed ends into too neat a bow, but that mistake is (narrowly) avoided. And while no one quite lives happily after, we feel okay leaving these characters when the credits roll. When all is said and done, 'Lantana' is crime drama, a detective solving a murder. That the death is the least enthralling aspect of a film that still trusts subtlety and complexity lifts 'Lantana' beyond any genre.

YES (8/10)

RIZE

The first time you hear the subject of David LaChapelle's documentary, 'Rize,' it's easy to think you're being put on. See, it seems that there is a trend in some of the most dangerous areas of California where people, mainly teenagers, get together for hours on end and stage dance battles in the street, people's garages, and playgrounds. Their dancing is frenetic enough to warrant a disclaimer that the film has not been sped up, and the dancers proclaim this as not a fad but a way of life. Oh yes, and they dress like clowns, form clown gangs, do the occasional birthday party, and even have a yearly battle in a local sports stadium.

'Rize' is a look into this fascinating movement - called 'clowning' or 'crumping' depending on style - but it ultimately tries to cover too much ground. There is a lot to be said about the way this dance craze saves teenagers from becoming gang members, how the good things we do are not always rewarded, how growing up in a broken home is difficult, how friendship and mentorship change lives, how even niche interests can split into smaller factions, etc, but by including all of these issues and more, 'Rize' can never fully explore even one.

Even as the film fails as narrative, it has its share of compelling moments. One dancer, Dragon, is wise far beyond his years. The stories of both Tommy the Clown and Tight Eyez are inspiring. The sight of a 'Payless Caskets' store next to a dance studio is heartrending.

And the dancing? Well, it gets to be a bore at times, frankly. Some dancers appear as if they're merely feigning seizures, while others offer no variation whatsoever. Every few minutes, however, a dancer appears on screen whose moves are original and poetic and say more about who these people are than the film as a whole can ever hope to convey. Those moments alone are well worth the price of admission.

MAYBE SO (6/10)

SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND

As art, 1978's 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band' certainly deserves a 0/10. Because it is so unbelievably, terrifically atrocious, however, the movie is a joy to watch.

In lieu of dialogue (except for narration by George Burns), 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band' uses various songs by The Beatles to drive and dictate the plot. Oh, and what a plot it is. The Bee Gees and Peter Frampton star as the title band, who become world superstars a week after being discovered by a record company executive. They then set out on a mission to retrieve magical instruments stolen by Mr. Mustard and his evil robot posse and restore joy to the world (and take a bit of time out to catch an Earth Wind and Fire concert). Throughout, 1970's musicians and minor celebrities play a slew of characters based on songs by the Beatles. Alice Cooper is the Sun King, Billy Preston is Sergeant Pepper, and Steve Martin - in by far the worst performance of his career - plays Dr. Maxwell.

To say that the performances don't do The Beatles' songs justice is a negligent understatement. With the exception of a relatively amazing 'Come Together' by Aerosmith, the songs are neutered at best and raped and left for dead in the worst cases. Imagine George Burns singing 'Fixin' A Hole.' Then imagine two six year old girls as his back-up singers. Now imagine that this isn't the most cringeworthy performance in the film.

Thankfully, no one here seems to take it all too seriously (though when his girlfriend, Strawberry Fields, is killed, Peter Frampton's obviously thinking about his Oscar chances). Props are oversized, facial expressions are exaggerated, and the special effects aren't special at all, even by the day's standards. The 'actors' seem to be having a good time instead of trying to convey a story, and this lack of pretension may be what ultimately saves the film.

Saving the film means, of course, making it merely the butt of a joke that is enjoyable to endure. You can't turn crackers into cake by covering them with cheese, and 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band' is a 'No' any way you look at it.

NO (3/10)

ELF

Playing a human raised by Santa’s elves at the North Pole, Will Ferrell throws himself as completely into his role as any great method actor. As Buddy, his childish wonder comes across as much in his face as in the ridiculous events of the plot, and Ferrell never hesitates to play things to the hilt without ever overdoing it.

‘Elf’ is a Christmas movie, and like pretty much every Christmas movie in existence, the story concerns a lack of Christmas spirit in the world and how to remedy the problem. Buddy grows up in Santa’s village and is an outcast in nearly every way. When he finds out that he is not an elf but an adopted human, Buddy travels to Manhattan to find his birth father, and it is these scenes – when Buddy’s elfish upbringing crashes headfirst into the modern world - that produce the most laughs. Buddy’s father has lost both the Christmas spirit and the true spirit of life, so… well, you get the rest.

James Caan plays the Ebenezer Scrooge character and brings not much more to the role than the fact that he is James Caan. Zooey Deschanel plays Buddy’s love interest but isn’t given much to do besides show off a pretty remarkable singing voice. Peter Dinklage makes the very most of a small part, and the rest of the cast generally blends into the woodwork. All of this is just fine, since ‘Elf’ is the Will Ferrell show and he knows it.

The beginning of ‘Elf’ plays as little more than set-up, and the final third loses most of its giddiness, but Will Ferrell and the script’s middle lift the film above the average holiday fare. Director John Favreau plays by the rules to a fault, but there’s a warmth of spirit in ‘Elf’ that can’t help but break through.

MAYBE SO (7/10)

PAPARAZZI

Cole Hauser stars in 'Paparazzi' as action movie star Bo Laramie, and that character name says about all you need to know about this film. What could have been a probing into celebrity photographers and the lengths they will go to to feed America's hunger is instead an '80's retread revenge flick.

Bo Laramie is a new celebrity, and thus he and his family have to deal for the first time with the spoils of fame. These include recognition, money, and a posse of photographers who follow Bo around for - note the subtlety - Paparazzi magazine. When the photographers cause a car accident that injures Bo's wife and son, he decides to take revenge by murdering the underlings and framing the paparazzi boss. Oh, and Dennis Farina stays hot on Bo's trail in a role that borrows heavily from TV detective Colombo. Yes, it's that ridiculous, and, no, they're not joking.

Mel Gibson produced 'Paparazzi,' which led me to believe that the script would have some insight into the celebrity world or, well, anything. Instead, it seems as if it were written based on movies seen on cable TV on Sunday mornings and not on any sort of reality or thought. Aside from one mildly funny joke about the Baldwin brothers (brother Daniel has a part here), there's no charm or wit to be found. There's nothing offensively bad either, and that's probably the best that can be said for a film that aims so low in the first place.

NO (3/10)

RASHOMON

'Rashomon' and its director, Akira Kurosawa, are critics' darlings, and it's easy to see why. 'Rashomon' is extraordinary in its willingness to make the audience think for themselves. It is highly odd and original (especially by 1950's standards, when it was made). It is complex and ambitious while playing on the surface as a rather simple tale of the lies humans tell. And it is shot majestically by cinematographer Kazuo Miyagawa.

Unfortunately, 'Rashomon' is also incredibly slow at times when the story practically begs to play faster, is acted in a style very foreign to American ears (and though some complain that it is 'bad' acting, I truly believe it's another style entirely), and plays far more to the intellect than to the emotions. These things, only some valid complaints, have made 'Rashomon' a film snob's secret instead of part of the fabric of our moviegoing culture.

The story in the film is actually four versions of the story of how a samurai was killed in the woods. Four people (including a medium channeling the dead man's take on the events) relate their tales, and no two versions are the same. As listeners within the film try to decide who and what to believe in the absence of any evidence, the audience at home must make the same choice. Kurosawa broadens that decision to include whether man can be trusted at all, and this is in part why 'Rashomon' sticks with an audience long after memories of any swordfight have gone.

'Rashomon' is not the pinnacle of film achievement we occasionally hear that it is, but it isn't a dated relic without relavance to the average American, either. Certainly any person even remotely interested in excellent camera work should buy and study a copy, but even casual film fans will find it a memorable experience. If you think you'd like to see it, you most likely will - but your mind may thank you more than your heart.

MAYBE SO (7/10)

COOL HAND LUKE

A quick online search of ‘Cool Hand Luke’ shows that popular opinion of the film falls into two camps. It is regarded as either exhaustingly slow and boring or an enthralling tale of man’s will. In truth, it’s both. While nearly every scene’s running time could quite easily be cut in half, the story as a whole is gripping.

Paul Newman stars as Lucas Jackson, a man caught vandalizing public property in the first scene. By the second, Lucas is reporting for duty at the prison work camp that will lord over the rest of his life. Like Jack Nicholson’s McMurphy in ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,’ Lucas slowly becomes a hero to a group of caged men, a rebellious symbol of freedom and free will. He is opposed by both physical imprisonment and a web of rules enforced by numerous ‘bosses.’

The first half of the film is almost entirely dedicated to showcasing how cool Luke Jackson can be, and though it plays too slowly, it exceeds this goal. By the one hour mark, every woman in the audience wants to sleep with Paul Newman. In turn, every man wants to be him (without the jail time, of course).

Even as it builds tension, the second half of ‘Cool Hand Luke’ becomes almost bizarrely repetitive and more and more heavy-handed with symbolism. Still, any viewer who’s been paying attention is far too attached to Lucas to look away. When his fate finally is revealed, the film attempts to make some big statements about faith, perseverance, loyalty, and a host of other issues. It needn’t bother. The story of one man fighting authority and himself is more than enough. Unfortunately, only those who haven’t turned off their television in frustration will find that out.

MAYBE SO (6/10)

SYRIANA

Among its many strengths, possibly the most impressive thing about Stephen Gaghan's 'Syriana' is the fact that a major studio funded it at all. The film is so complex and assumes so much intelligence on the part of its audience that it's very nearly off-putting on first viewing. Moments of simple, timeless humanity keep at least one of the movie's feet on the ground, though, and the complexity becomes enthralling.

There is no true leading role in this story of oil's importance in the 21st century, but George Clooney, Jeffrey Wright, and Matt Damon are given the most screen time in a large cast. Clooney is especially good here. He reportedly gained thirty-five pounds for the role (twenty of it in his beard, it seems), and mostly lets his posture and facial expressions work for him in place of dialogue. The supporting cast is accomplished (and largely unknown) enough that it's easy to forget that they are paid actors. Plenty of handheld camera work may be nauseating but also adds to the realism.

There is no doubt that some audiences will find 'Syriana' a puzzle not worth the effort it takes to solve. It plays like few other films and comes to no neat conclusions. Those looking for sheer entertainment will find it entirely too much work.

For audience members who are willing to work toward understanding, the movie is rewarding. Even after one viewing, with many plot points little more than a haze, 'Syriana' weighs heavily on the mind. It is about oil, yes, but it is also about corruption, secrets, politics, modernity, business, and more. The film simply feels important. It may prove otherwise on further viewing, as some have suggested. But the fact that further viewing is not only necessary but an exciting prospect as well speaks volumes.

MAYBE SO (7/10)

9 SONGS

In the special features section of the '9 Songs' DVD, actress Margo Stilley makes passing mention of the script for the film - and that is the biggest surprise in or around the movie. It's nearly unfathomable that a script existed at all. The story, if one feels generous enough to call it that, is made up entirely of the following: Matt and Lisa live in London. They go to a bunch of rock shows and have a lot of sex. Lisa leaves for America and Matt goes to Antarctica. Roll credits.

'9 Songs' has made a name for itself for two reasons. First, it contains live concert clips of some famous (for the indie rock world, at least) bands such as Franz Ferdinand, Super Furry Animals, and the Von Bondies. Secondly, the sex in the film is real and explicitly shown. Those who watch the movie for either reason will no doubt walk away disappointed. The concert footage is terribly shot, and the bands' songs are cut short every time. The sex scenes are neither erotic nor thought-provoking.

Proponents of the film talk about a careful study of the rise and fall of a relationship through the actions in the bedroom. Applying this level of thought to a movie so barren, however, is like seeing God's face in a Rice Krispie treat - it may sell on ebay, but you're fooling yourself.

Any person's need for sex and rock and roll would be far better served by turning on a radio and renting pornography. '9 Songs' fails as music video, titillation, and engaging story. Thankfully, it is nearly as forgettable as it is pointless.

NO (1/10)

ME AND YOU AND EVERYONE WE KNOW

When we are teenagers, many of us go through a period in which we see meaning in the tiniest of events. We feel emotions with a depth that shocks us. We use the word 'deep' without being ironic. We are unguarded and raw and awkward and we discover a level of living that we truly believe we are the first to recognize. Of course, we grow out of this phase. We become wiser, more jaded; we guard ourselves off. Unless, that is, we're Miranda July. The writer/director/star of 'Me And You And Everyone We Know,' at thirty-one years old, is a high schooler at heart, with both the good and bad that that label implies.

July's film is not only confidently directed; it has a unique, unwavering vision both visually and thematically. The film features incredibly believable child actors, comic book-like splashes of color in nearly every frame, original situations, truly touching moments, and a lilting, easy flow. On the downside, it (like a high schooler) can be treacly, overeaching in its desire to shock, and meandering. To say that the pros outweigh the cons here is an understatement.

Plot synopses don't work for a film of this sort. What happens in the story serves only as snapshots of a larger picture. When a woman buys shoes, it's a grasp at human connection. When a girl plays at feeding her friends as if they're birds, it's about dreams of order and control that we know will be shattered. When two teenagers practice their blowjob technique, it's about competition and friendship and adulthood and more. 'Me And You And Everyone We Know' is, in a word, about loneliness. In eighteen words, it's about how we'd better appreciate the tiny connections we're able to make, because they may be all we get. Given that, the fact that it is humorous and uplifting along with its melancholia is a major accomplishment.

YES (8/10)

THE BOONDOCK SAINTS

What is a reviewer supposed to do with a film like ‘The Boondock Saints’? The acting is at times nearly unwatchable. The lapses in logic are unavoidable. The movie as a whole derives so much of its tone, attitude, and content from Quentin Tarantino that the man should sue. There is nothing more than a vigilante story here. No insights into the human condition. No character development. No brains.

And still – still - ‘The Boondock Saints’ makes for a vastly entertaining ride. Sure, it’s one bloodbath after another by two self-proclaimed superheroes, but those massacres are set up and carried out awfully well. Especially well done is a sequence in which we see an FBI agent hot on the Saints’ trail explain the events of a crime on set as the crime takes place. It’s potentially the only original thought here, and it pushes all the right buttons. Even that spell is soon broken, however, by the usually reliable Willem Dafoe, who proceeds to overact his way out of 1,000 paper bags.

As nutrition, ‘The Boondock Saints’ is like a bowl of Fruity Pebbles cereal. It may be cheap, easy, and bad for you, but it tastes really good going down. Just don’t try to live on this garbage.

MAYBE SO (6/10)

OVERNIGHT

For roughly the first five minutes of the documentary ‘Overnight,’ Troy Duffy comes across as a confident, likeable, rising star. For the remainder of the film, no audience in their right minds can see him as anything but one of the most arrogant, pompous, and cruel villains to ever disgrace a movie screen.

At 25, Duffy sold his first screenplay – ‘The Boondock Saints’ (see review elsewhere on this site) – to Miramax. Included in his deal was the opportunity to direct the film, make casting decisions, have final cut, gain co-ownership of the bar where he works, and have his band write and record the soundtrack. Duffy becomes, for a short time, the toast of Hollywood.

Presented with this gift horse, Duffy not only looks it in the mouth but punches its teeth out one by one. Through his ridiculous behavior (and, it has to be said, the fickle business of independent film), Duffy’s pedestal is chopped down inch by excruciating inch. He loses half his budget. He loses his record deal. He alienates movie stars, record label heads, his band, his own family, and surely countless waiters, waitresses, and production assistants who didn’t make this documentary’s final cut. Duffy ends up with nothing to show for the experience but a lot of lost love and a dvd release of his sole film. His entourage (with the exception of the makers of this documentary) is left scrambling for pieces of what they once thought was a given and a sad story to tell.

There is nothing especially noteworthy about the look of ‘Overnight.’ It never rises above serviceable and at times appears amateur. Instead of diminishing from the film, this actually adds to the effect overall, making us feel as if we’re spying on the goings-on instead of watching ‘Take 11’ of some version of the truth.

As a cautionary tale, ‘Overnight’ probably misses its mark. Any person even remotely as self-delusional as Troy Duffy would never admit that the lessons here apply to them. The film’s true success is in presenting a completely original, repulsive character to the world of film and then, thankfully, making us spend only 82 minutes with the man.

MAYBE SO (7/10)