Daily Archives: February 15, 2008

The Apartment

Winner of five Academy Awards, including Best Picture, 1960’s The Apartment is one of legendary writer-director Billy Wilder’s crowning triumphs, a scathing and satirical humanistic masterpiece that expertly commingles comedy and drama without shortchanging either.

Jack Lemmon stars as C.C. “Bud” Baxter, an ordinary if a bit lonely life insurance salesman who provides the perfect cover and black-market “service” for his philandering bosses, by loaning out his New York apartment for their extramarital trysts. Currying favor in such fashion, Bud wins a series of promotions not entirely deserved. When he meets head boss Jeff Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray, smartly cast against grain), Bud thinks the gig is finally up. It turns out, though, that Jeff is very much like all the other men in the company, carrying on an affair with elevator operator Fran Kubilek (Shirley MacLaine, above right). Things get wildly mixed up, however, when Bud — without knowing she’s Jeff’s latest gal — falls for Fran, who’s disconsolate over Jeff’s unwillingness to leave his wife.

The general encroach of more social realism and the Hollywood relaxation of narrative restrictions in stories dabbling in matters of infidelity greatly benefits The Apartment, which — obviously without anything ever approaching graphic content — balances light comedy and much darker drama (without giving anything away for those who haven’t seen the movie, there’s a twist that one can’t fathom making it past a second-tier studio reader in the modern-day development process) in a deft, breathtaking fashion. A perfect team, Wilder and frequent co-writer I.A.L. “Izzy” Diamond are skilled with dialogue, character and surrounding physical detail, and the result is a cinematic classic, through and through — a movie that captures all the wild swings and ebbs and flows of emotion in real life.

Housed in a regular Amray case, this special collector’s edition of The Apartment is presented in 2.35:1 widescreen, and comes with English 5.1 Dolby surround sound and mono audio tracks, as well as Spanish and French mono audio tracks. Film historian and producer Bruce Block sits for an engaging feature-length audio commentary track, and he seemingly has an anecdote for just about every bit character actor in the movie. The chief supplemental feature, though, is a fantastic half-hour making-of featurette, which is powered by all sorts of astute interview contributions — from On Sunset Boulevard author Ed Sikov, executive producer Walter Mirisch, co-writer Diamond’s son Paul, and others — and delves into everything from the inspiration for the movie (David Lean’s Brief Encounter) to its casting, production and release. This material wonderfully helps frame and contextualize the film, which came on the heels of Some Like It Hot, also starring Lemmon. When USC film professor Drew Casper recalls Wilder’s description of his movie’s bustling office set (“This is our chariot race”), it makes total, if amusing, sense that Wilder would see comparison with the Oscar-winning Ben Hur, from two years prior. There’s also a separate 12-minute celebration of Lemmon, with interviews from the late actor’s son, Chris, as well as biographer Joe Baltake and Wilder Times author Kevin Lally. These bits are all great, especially from Chris Lemmon, because they give a real sense of the in many ways unlikely Hollywood rise (he was wasted during a brief contract stint at Columbia) of the simple son of a baker, and how that informed Lemmon’s lifelong humbleness. To purchase the movie via Amazon, click here. A (Movie) A- (Disc)

Step Up 2 the Streets

A fresh slate of young performers
combined with energetically staged and photographed sequences that
convey the cathartic joy of dance
easily outweigh some of the more
predictable rhythms of formulaic storytelling in Step Up 2 the
Streets
, a fun, flirty and engaging teen drama and stand-alone
sequel
that serves as the latest entry in a line of pan-ethnic dance
films pitched chiefly at teens and big-city twentysomethings.

In August of 2006, Step Up, the
$12 million directorial debut of choreographer turned 27 Dresses helmer Anne Fletcher, used a
deft, direct-appeal marketing campaign
that included a MySpace.com
contest which let users submit their own dance videos to ring up a
surprising $20.6 opening weekend, part of a $114 million worldwide
gross that included just under $49 million in international receipts.
The movie was just the latest underdog hit in a consistently viable
new subgenre
; 2001’s Save the Last Dance kickstarted the
nascent trend, catching fire with a $23 million domestic opening en
route to over $130 million in cumulative receipts. The more
aggressively urbanized You Got Served danced its way to $40
million Stateside in 2004, while Stomp the Yard opened to $21
million en route to a $61 million domestic gross in last year’s first
quarter.

Delivering a gender inversion of the
same loose, wrong-side-of-the-tracks narrative of the first film
, Step Up 2 the Streets‘
story centers on rebellious, teenage street dancer Andie (Briana
Evigan, above right), a Baltimore-bred orphan on the brink of being sent by her
deceased mother’s friend to live with her aunt in Texas — a fate
akin to permanent exile. Given the opportunity of an audition at the
prestigious but achingly proper Maryland School of the Arts
, the
street-wise Andie improbably wins a spot. Her unique talent, as well
as her attractiveness, catches the attention of the school’s hottest
dancer and reigning big man on campus, Chase (Robert Hoffman, above left), whose
older brother Blake (Will Kemp), a legendary ballet performer in his
own right, has returned to lead the school and oversee its artistic
re-shaping. Andie is caught up between two worlds, and the different
rules and expectations that go with each. So when her old friends
abandon her, she joins forces with Chase and a new posse of classmate
outcasts and unconventional types to form a crew to compete in
Baltimore’s big underground dance battle
, The Streets.

One of the movie’s great successes is
the sense of scale apportioned its conflicts
. Like, interestingly enough, Curtis Hanson’s 8
Mile
, Step Up 2 the Streets assays urban tension
and class/race conflict without needlessly getting into gunplay and
all the distasteful and/or stereotypically overwrought chest-thumping
that often stems from that. Just as that former film — a slightly
re-contextualized biopic about rapper Eminem’s rise from gritty
Detroit — featured fisticuffs and a scene with paintball guns which
served to define the ceiling of acceptable violence within the
characters’ world
, so too does Step Up 2 the Streets. When
Chase and Andie’s new crew crosses her old gang with a prank they
post on the Internet, retribution takes the form of vandalism, a
“simple” but brief assault by fist and, inevitably,
feverish dancing competition, all in equal measure. This careful
modulation lends credence to the notion of dance as an expression of
(adolescent, not just underclass) frustration, an important
underpinning of the story.

Step Up 2 the Streets is the
feature directorial debut of USC Film School graduate Jon Chu, and he
locates the exuberance and thrill of personal expression in capturing
its dance sequences
. If there’s a knock, it’s that several of these
dance-feud and performance set pieces — particularly a climactic
group showcase that moves from a crowded, warehouse-style dance club
outdoors, into the rain — come across as too tightly choreographed
to be truly improvised, and thus undercut some of the loose-limbed
energy present in other sequences.

A lot of the screenplay’s dialogue, by
writers Tori Ann Johnson and Karen Barna, is of the boilerplate
variety, but the cast evidences a warm rapport that masks much of its
awkwardness
. Both Evigan and Hoffman, in particular, make strong,
winning impressions. It certainly helps that Chu places an obvious
value on low-key, natural charm. By allowing the characters’
personalities to come forward a bit more incrementally than usual for
such teen-pitched product, one’s identification with their plights,
respective and shared, evolves more naturally
. Only a few scenes of
artificial headbutting between Andie and her surrogate guardian ring
false or strident. For the full, original review, from Screen International, click here.

Feast of Love

When it first came out, I noted that Feast of Love was engaging enough in piecemeal fashion — a Midsummer Night’s Dream-type,
dramatic-leaning ensemble piece about relationships
. The truth is, though, this is a movie made without concession to modern convention, and as such it’s out of step — in ways both good and awkward — with what we’ve come to expect from big-screen entertainment. It plays a bit better on the small screen, in other words, even if the redone cover art for the DVD release somewhat ridiculously oversells/misrepresents the film as a feel-good adult romancer.

Transplanted from
the Michigan setting of Charles Baxter’s novel to Portland, Oregon, the film, scripted by Allison Burnett and directed by Robert Benton, centers around a retired college professor, Harry (Morgan Freeman), and his friendship with coffeeshop owner Bradley (Greg Kinnear), a hopeful (read: perhaps too naive) spirit who sees his first wife, Kathryn (Selma Blair), leave him for another woman, and his rebound relationship with emotionally walled-off real estate agent Diana (Radha Mitchell) become complicated by her preceding affair with the married David (Billy Burke). Rounding out the romantic roundelay are young lovebirds Oscar (Toby Hemingway) and Chloe (Alexa Davalos), who work at Bradley’s beanery.

Freeman is Feast of Love‘s central hub, a quasi-omniscient narrator for whom the other stories in the movie serve as thematically interrelated spokes. This is in and of itself OK, but at the same time movies with Freeman as an earnest, world-weathered voice of free-floating reason seem to be rapidly comprising their own subgenre, and there are times here when one wishes the artifice (which is a big part of the novel, and admittedly downplayed here) were stripped down even further, to just straight drama. What most recommends Feast of Love is that it’s a frank movie, and about adult problems, but it still has a sheen of positivity to it, which will baffle those looking for American Beauty-style conclusions about suburban malaise. Benton and Burnett aren’t afraid to present all the ridiculous highs and lows of love and loss, which is what life is all about. Those who dig more starkly defined contrast and conflict won’t take to this Feast, definitely, but I personally liked submitting to Benton’s masterfully wound-down rhythms.

Presented in anamorphic widescreen and housed in a regular Amray plastic case, Feast of Love comes with only a nominal supplemental inclusion — a 12-minute making-of featurette that includes interviews with Benton, producers Gary Lucchesi and Tom Rosenberg — who talk about the casting of Freeman, and how that drew the attention of other actors — and cast members. Legendary filmmaker Benton talks about his movies as a “platform” for actors (“I’d like to think they don’t work to please me so much as to please themselves”), and confesses that when he auditioned Alexa Davalos he initially thought she was “a very pretty girl, but not right for this movie.” A few trailers for other 20th Century Fox releases are also included. To purchase the movie via Amazon, click here. B (Movie) C (Disc)