Daily Archives: February 2, 2007

On The Number 23 Poster

Musings, Posterized!

The Mask, Me, Myself & Irene and Liar, Liar to the teaser art for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and the famous micro-collage that comprised of The Truman Show. So on the one hand, the above poster for The Number 23, opening February 23 from New Line, isn’t at all surprising. The studio is selling their chief asset, which is Carrey.

But audiences have shown a certain resistance to Carrey in darker and/or melancholic roles (no news flash there), and while this one-sheet effectively hints at the film’s R rating and conveys the surging paranoia that overtakes his character in the movie, it’s emphasis on bleak obsession and cryptic symbology sells short the movie’s investigative aspects, which actually may represent an easier path to filmgoers’ wallets. I like the image itself — the slightly agape mouth somewhat mitigating Carrey’s glazed, killer’s stare — but when I look at that poster, the three movies I for some reason quickly think of, in no particular order, are The Grudge, Conspiracy Theory and, believe it or not, The Cable Guy. If The Number 23 underperforms, expect the typical boobirds to come out (however undeservedly) regarding Carrey’s dramatic efforts, and the advisability of selling such a film chiefly on his visage.

I Call Bullshit on Architects…

Irritations, Musings

You know what I’m really tired of? Friggin’ architects. I
mean, does anyone out there really know an architect? And before you say, “You’re so full of shit, Brent. My dad’s actually
an architect,” is this the same father that lives in a neighboring state but
hasn’t seen you in 12 years, and once told your mother to “give you a cut” of
his monthly alimony check for your Christmas gift? I rest my case. Dude is
probably not an architect. “Pharmaceuticals redistribution manager” is more
like it…

Not to be impolite, but architect is one of those
bullshit jobs that Hollywood screenwriters seem to lazily trot out when they need some hot-shit occupation to
attach to a desirable young guy who, golly gee, at his core really wants to settle down and
have a family, or is already a nice young family man. When lawyer has a bit too much of a negative occupational
connotation for your protagonist, doctor is a bit too pointy-headed, and
advertising executive is a bit too in danger of puncturing the movie’s
entertainment value, architect is seemingly settled upon as the perfect
white-collar big screen job (see Adam Sandler in Click, Luke Wilson in My
Super Ex-Girlfriend, et al). It’s professional and lucrative — even vaguely
scholastic — but its day-to-day specifics seem to dance beyond our
intellectual grasp, and you never see any one of these characters do something related to their job except maybe deliver a passing line of dialogue about the “sleek angles” or open spaces of an area. If you believed the movies and television, 75 percent
of us are cops, lawyers, doctors, forensics investigators and architects.

The incidental trigger for my rage comes in the form of this
week’s Because I Said So, in which Tom
Everett Scott’s somewhat rakish, entrepreneurial architect competes for Mandy
Moore’s affection with a guitar player played by Gabriel Macht. He easily wins
over Moore’s mom (Diane Keaton),
but the moment he reveals his occupation, you know that he’s a shit-heel in
waiting. Well… because of how that occupation doesn’t jibe with Moore’s
creative catering business, as well as the fact that he answered a mother’s
personal ad for her daughter, went along with contrived meeting with said
daughter, entered into relationship with said daughter, and never saw fit to
tell said daughter about the truth behind their meeting… though of course he (sort
of) tells his own mother. Idiot
architect…

Her Minor Thing

Blu-ray/DVD Reviews

I’ve mentioned my career advice for the perfectly pouty Estella Warren previously, so imagine my pleasant, surging optimism when I first heard that she was headlining an independent movie which posited her as the object of romantic attention between two guys. Then imagine my disappointment when I found out it was Her Minor Thing, a PG-13-rated romantic comedy about a 25-year-old virgin who gets “outed” on television by her reporter boyfriend, and then ends up falling for his cameraman.

No, no, no, Estella. This simply will not do. With all due respect, even as a largely unknown commodity as an actress (outside of that faithful contingent of Kangaroo Jack fans) you’re far too va-voomish to be playing misunderstood Everygirls who’ve had their hearts continuously trampled upon or randomly broken out with the chickenpox when they tried to physically consummate a relationship. This works for you no more than it would for Angelina Jolie. It’s ridiculous, I’m sorry to say. You need to go the sexpot route, honestly. Like, all dangerous and noir-y.

While waiting for the brilliance of my advice to be borne out, though, fans of good-natured romantic trifles could certainly do worse than Her Minor Thing, in which Warren plays Jeana, a young woman whose life gets turned upside down when Sacramento reporter Tom (Michael Weatherly) — outwardly sensitive but naturally also an inveterate womanizer — reveals her secret on the air, before he knows he’s being broadcast live. Of course, this in turn feeds consternation and drama, and while Jeana and Tom initially stick together, she slowly finds herself attracted to cameraman Paul (Christian Kane, above left).

Directed by Charles Matthau (son of the late Walter, and helmer of the underrated The Grass Harp), Her Minor Thing bounces along harmlessly, no better or worse than one’s expectations of it heading in. Attempts to give Warren just a pinch of physical comedy are wince-inducing (sexpot, Estella, sexpot!), but Kane and Weatherly give nicely rooted performances and supporting players including Rachel Dratch, Victoria Jackson, Kathy Griffin and Ivana Milicevic are on hand to keep the proceedings relatively lively.

Presented in widescreen, Her Minor Thing comes with Dolby digital 5.1 and 2.0 stereo English language mixes, and optional subtitles in English and Spanish. A lot of independent releases don’t have any bonus features, but this release hearteningly includes a 10-and-a-half-minute featurette buoyed by engaging cast and crew interviews. Plenty of love is showered on location shoot home Sacramento, and Matthau reveals himself a sardonic puppetmaster. C (Movie) B- (Disc)