Happiness Runs is one of those movies that wears its air-quote truth like a protective cloak, to fend off criticisms of its narrative inadequacies: after all, if this is based on a true story, how could it possibly not be infused with hidden profundity? A semi-autobiographical slice of indulgent emo noodling written and directed by Adam Sherman, the film unfolds at a California hippie commune, where a passel of kids struggle with boundary-less situations and generally try (or at least talk about trying) to escape the hazy clutches of drug addiction and other self-destructive behavior.
The film centers on Victor (Mark Young, above right), a neglected teenager who’s ready to bust out into the world at large, if only his mom (Andie MacDowell) would give him some walking-around money instead of repeatedly signing it away to the charismatic guru, Insley (Rutger Hauer), who oversees life on the commune. Both Insley and Victor’s out-to-lunch father (Mark Boone Junior) seem more interested in hypnotizing and seducing women than anything else, but while others — including fellow teenager Jake (Shiloh Fernandez), who’s tested out sexual promiscuity in the world at large and returned to the commune — seem interested in emulating this lifestyle, Victor nurses a quiet crush on Becky (Hanna Hall, above left, of Rob Zombie’s Halloween remake), who’s returned to take care of her deathly ill father. Desperate to save Becky, but stuck in a rut that finds him the shortest side of a sort of wildly unhealthy love trapezoid which also involves Jake and Chad (Jesse Plemons), rival drug peddlers to the commune’s even younger kids, Victor trips through days and nights, uncertain of what to do.
We’re clued into the fact that Victor realizes the inherent shortcomings of theutopian ideals he’s been fed and raised on, but we don’t get to take that journey with him, nor ever see him truly, forcefully put his newfound perspective in action. He merely exists in wan, unfocused contrast to what unfolds around him. Sherman seems to conflate adolescent sexual promiscuity and a generally pervasive atmosphere of druggy abandon with foregrounded dramatic conflict, so Hall exhibits various states of undress and swings between guys while Victor kind of squints and wonders about it.
The kids aren’t all right, and we know that, certainly, but there’s nothing in this moralizing, self-consciously artistic, broad-strokes drama that really gets under one’s skin, or even particularly haphazardly connects with an aging puncher’s jarring force. The performances are as bland and generic as the words put in the characters’ mouths, and so Happiness Runs just unfolds languidly, a sort of less surly, more relaxed alt-hippie version of The Chumscrubber, in which the entire point seems to be how amazing it is that any teenager could ever even rise out of bed in the morning, given the damage done unto them by adults. (Strand, R, 89 minutes)
Monthly Archives: May 2010
Extreme Cave Diving
I didn’t know spelunking was the new rage, but it seems to have cropped up in all sorts of movies relatively recently, from narrative features and festival shorts to documentaries. The latest is this hour-long NOVA title, Extreme Cave Diving, which sounds like it should come with a coupon for a free six-pack of Mountain Dew.
Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry posited that space was the final frontier, but we’ve actually barely scratched the surface of the mysteries of our own planet, especially as it pertains to the cavernous depths of our oceans. Following the charismatic Dr. Kenny Broad, director-producer James Barrat’s Extreme Cave Diving takes viewers on an interesting journey deep into blue holes — dark, heretofore largely unexplored underwater caves formed during the last ice age, when the sea level was nearly 400 feet below what it is today.
These areas are treacherous as much for what isn’t known about them as for what is, but Broad and his interdisciplinary team of climatologists, paleontologists and
anthropologists are excellent tour guides for this trip, providing nice shorthand contextualization for why such mysteries abound. And these caves aren’t as lonely as one would expect, either — magnificent creatures alien to human eyes scour the depths of the ocean, broadening the mysteries of life on Earth. Wes Skiles’ cinematography is stirring and evocative, capturing this “alternate universe” in a way that leaves one leaning forward in wonder.
Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Extreme Cave Diving comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 widescreen, with an English 2.0 stereo audio track that more than adequately handles the relatively straightforward and meager aural demands of this title. There are unfortunately no supplemental bonus features to speak of, save some promotional link information. To purchase the DVD from PBS, phone (800) PLAY-PBS, or click here; to purchase the DVD via Amazon, meanwhile, click here. B (Movie) D (Disc)
Waiting For Superman Showcases National Education Failures
Also, there’s the matter of timing: against the backdrop of a seriously depressed economy, will people feel too on edge and tapped out to summon compassion for this issue? That is, will they take the Tea Party biscuit, and lump meaningful education reform in with “things we don’t have the time and money for right now”? Or maybe it’s all faulty science, these standardized markers of national shortcoming in all arenas save adolescent confidence? For more information on the movie, click here.
Robin Hood
Teaming up for the fifth time, Russell Crowe and director Ridley Scott exercise their gladiatorial instincts once again with Robin Hood, a beefy, brawny epic that, not unlike Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven before it, exudes a certain world-weary spirit. While the filmmakers and studios involved in most Hollywood summer flicks are trending ever increasingly toward streamlined, bantamweight fare, Scott is tracking in the exact opposite direction.
While not dour, per se, Robin Hood provides ample evidence that the veteran filmmaker wants (and indeed, maybe is incapable of delivering anything otherwise) to make films that kick up no small amount of dust, that look beautiful but have grit, that feature dirty fingernails alongside their aggressively modern foley mixes. In placing such an emphasis on chainmail authenticity and the events that lead to “Robin Longstride” returning from the Crusades and slowly growing into such a fanciful figure of legend, however, Scott and Crowe potentially run the risk of delivering a film that is so inconveniently, wildly out of step with mainstream audience expectation as to disappoint.
Based on a script from Brian Helgeland, Robin Hood opens on the edge of the 13th century, at the end of a 10-year religiously inspired military campaign by crusading king Richard the Lionheart (Danny Huston). As they make their way home through France, Richard is felled, leaving capricious younger brother Prince John (Oscar Isaac) susceptible to the more cunning machinations of Godfrey (Mark Strong), a power player looking to stoke the fires of Northern discontent against the British crown, and pave the way for a French incursion.
Robin Longstride (Crowe) is but a lowly archer, garrisoned for fighting, but he soon finds himself on the lam with a motley crew of fellow soldiers, including Little John (Kevin Durand). Using the dead king’s crown and a dead knight’s sword, the group secures passage back to England, letting the lies of their noble stock live on for a while. Haunted by a wish to a dying countryman, Robin feels compelled to return said sword to the fallen knight’s father, Sir Walter Loxley (Max von Sydow), where he meets widower Marion Loxley (Cate Blanchett). Walter then concocts a scheme to welcome Robin back as his deceased son, which he asserts will offer legal protection for their already squeezed, almost starving estate upon his passing.
As Godfrey’s deceits are revealed, various parties inveigh upon Prince John to strike a conciliatory tone with the overtaxed, fed-up tribal factions of Northern England, in order to more effectively turn back the gathering foreign threat. The young king momentarily accedes, and the penultimate showdown in Robin Hood is a beach-set burly-brawl, in which Robin gets to wade out into the tide and smash swords with Godfrey, against a chaotic backdrop that serves as a period piece homage to Saving Private Ryan‘s opening Normandy sequence.
Despite Crowe’s insistence to the contrary, agitated Tea Partiers will likely find a political message here, sparking to the film’s anti-tax, yay-liberty! message that every man should be free to fend for himself. (They’ll conveniently ignore the fact that Robin’s country has been bankrupted largely by the hawkish over-extension of ill-advised foreign military entanglements.) But much of Robin Hood actually runs counter to what has helped entrench the character in popular consciousness. In fact, taking a page from so many comic book adaptations of late, the movie basically serves as an origin story/prequel to the Robin Hood who challenges corruption, and through his quiver and arrow gives voice to the poor. This is essentially Robin Hood’s walkabout — the period wherein he finds out about his deceased father and reaffirms the intestinal fortitude that informs his subsequent “outlaw” existence.
In and of itself that’s not a terrible thing, given the handsomeness with which this production is mounted, and the slow-burn charisma — notably from Crowe, but also some bit players — that powers the movie. It just makes for a thing to be settled into rather than whisked away by. The first hour is a bit sludgy at times, and other than the left-field decision to slap a suit of armor on her for the aforementioned beach siege, there’s not really much for Blanchett to do as Marion. Helgeland and Scott never seem to quite figure out whether their film is supposed to truly submit to the delicate flirtation between Robin and Marion (who, after all, has just lost her husband, no matter the fact that she scarcely knew him), and as such the latter just kind of floats around the film’s edges.
Finally, there’s the movie’s third act speechifying, the very idea of which is rather ridiculous; I don’t think monarchs encouraged in-the-round outdoor debate, let alone impassioned monologues of dissent. For all its investment in historical accuracy on the battlefields, it seems Robin Hood still didn’t figure out a way to completely avoid the Candyland shortcut allure of overly convenient dramatic license. (Universal, PG-13, 140 minutes)
Annette Bening on Mother and Child, and Playing Prickly
It’s perhaps difficult to use the word “anonymity” in relation to a three-time Oscar nominee, but like her husband Warren Beatty, Annette Bening exhibits a choosiness that often keeps her a bit removed from the front-loaded memories of those who dissect and debate screen acting. That will likely change in 2010. While the Chinese New Year may nominally denote it as the year of the tiger, Bening should be receiving massive amounts of ink well into next winter, courtesy of superlative turns in two films, including Lisa Cholodenko’s The Kids Are All Right. First out of the gate, however, is Rodrigo Garcia’s Mother and Child, in which Bening breathes life into Karen, an abrasive single woman who’s still carrying emotional carrying baggage from a teenage pregnancy when, in short order, she loses her elderly live-in mother and finds her interpersonal defenses slowly ground down by Paco (Jimmy Smits), a sensitive coworker. I caught up with Bening recently to talk about playing a woman in turmoil, teenage pregnancy, and the motivation of fear. For the interview, from New York Magazine‘s Vulture, click here.
Alex Gibney Talks Casino Jack with Brad Schreiber
Over at Huffington Post, the astute and esteemed Brad Schreiber takes a look at Casino Jack and the United States of Money, the latest fascinating documentary effort from Alex Gibney, director of Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room and the Oscar-winning Taxi to the Dark Side. The money quote: “I don’t think Jack Abramoff was a rotten apple. I think he was spectacular evidence of a rotten barrel.”
Where Art Thou, I Love You Phillip Morris?
Peter Debruge tackles the on-again, off-again release date mamba of Jim Carrey and Ewan McGregor’s subversive romantic comedy I Love You Phillip Morris, as its boutique North American distributor tries to make a case that it’s in a position to release it. Non-festivalgoers really deserve a chance to see this film.
Transylmania
Mixing the usual straight-to-video staples of lowbrow humor and side servings of T&A, Transylmania tries hard to position itself as a randy, zany vampire spoof for our vampire-crazed times, following a group of misfit co-eds studying overseas as they deal with the fallout of a
Transylvanian haunted castle. Most of the jokes never really take flight, however, and the performances aren’t strong and comedically engaging enough to merit the attention of anyone other than genre completists looking to while away some time between undergraduate core studies required classes.
Stoked
over a Romanian hottie he’s met online, sex-obsessed college
student Rusty (Oren Skoog) talks a group of his dimwitted friends — including weed-happy Pete (Patrick Cavanaugh), who’s torn between dating twin sisters Danni (Nicole
Garza) and Lia (Natalie Garza), one of whom is a square and one of whom more readily fits his party-hearty lifestyle — into joining him abroad for a semester of
beer, babes and bongs at what they think is a prestigious Transylvanian
university. What they discover instead is a creepy castle populated by a
torture-loving mad scientist, an over-cybersexed humpback, the nubile
spirit of a decomposed sorceress and a bevy of horny vampire chicks.
Transylmania was crafted by the same team behind Dorm Daze and Dorm Daze 2 — co-director/producers David and Scott Hillenbrand, and co-writers Patrick Casey and Joshua “Worm” Miller. Given their experience and rapport, it’s not surprising that the movie exhibits loads of energy, and projects the loose-limbed, casual vibe of a set with plenty of off-camera friends. Unfortunately, very little of that really translates to the screen. The performances are sub-par — hammy, self-indicating things, existing in little bubbles almost hermetically sealed from one another — and most of the action is awkwardly captured and framed. Some of the dialogue has a bit of snap, but not enough to save this wearying exercise in demonstrative demographic rib-poking.
Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Transylmania comes to DVD presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, with an English language 5.1 Dolby digital audio track, and optional English subtitles. In addition to the normal trailer for the movie and a special “stoner” version of the same, there’s a healthy complement of supplemental material, at least quantitatively speaking. An audio commentary track with the Hillenbrands and costars Skoog, Jennifer Lyons and indefatigable self-promoter Musetta Vander kicks things off, and much congratulatory back-slapping ensues. Alternate openings and endings for the movie come with optional commentary, as do 16 minutes of deleted and extended scenes, the bulk of which expand upon some of the movie’s druggy cross-chatter, as well as the relationship backstory of Pete, Danni and Lia.
A six-and-a-half-minute gag reel highlights all sorts of problems with faulty props, as well as trouble with line readings from Cabin Fever‘s DeBello and a handful of local Romanian extras. (At least the latter have the excuse of English not being their first language.) Rounding things out is a lame, two-minute (yes, two-minute!) “behind-the-scenes featurette,” in which one of the actors actually asks if there have ever been other horror spoofs, or comedies. Well, those Scream and Scary Movie franchises come to mind. But maybe they’re too old, or outside the bounds of recollection for this flick’s target audience. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. D+ (Movie) B- (Disc)
Final 24 Series
We live in tawdry times, when news of Starlet X’s latest underwear malfunction makes its way to the splashy top “folds” of the Huffington Post or CNN’s web site. In that context, perhaps it’s no surprise, the DVD bow of Final 24, a Canadian-mounted project billed as a compelling hybrid drama/documentary series that unlocks “the hidden secrets, psychological flaws and events that resulted in the tragic deaths of global icons.” Slick, well-produced and more than a bit morbid, these DVDs — both individually and in aggregate — offer up a tabloid-style re-visitation of the last single day in the lives of its subjects, complemented by talking head interviews that range from dubious merit to surprisingly candid and revelatory.
One of the series’ debut entries focuses on Nicole Brown Simpson, the ex-wife of murdering hack golfer football legend O.J. Simpson, so right off the bat one has to wonder a bit about the whole “global icon” thing. Still, the rest of its debut slate hews a bit more closely to its stated focus, including peeks at the untimely deaths of Gianni Versace, Janis Joplin and Keith Moon, an eclectic trio to be sure. (Entries on Sid Vicious, John Belushi, Anna Nicole Smith and David Koresh loom on the horizon for June, meanwhile, and River Phoenix, Marvin Gaye, Hunter S. Thompson, John Kennedy and Tupac Shakur are scheduled to get the same treatment later this fall.)
While Danny Wallace’s narration — a constant on all the titles — too often
strikes the chords of doomsday melodrama, and it’s stupendously weird and unsettling to mix real pictures of the deceased with murky reenactments and still photographs of the same actor-participants, Final 24 is undeniably well put together, however exploitative, sleazy or yawningly rehashing one may find its areas of inquiry. Producers Katherine Buck and John Vandervelde have done a great job of corralling interviewees that extend beyond the range of the usual suspects.
The Nicole Brown Simpson title is a perfect illustration of this. Once you get past the cursory descriptive inanities (“She was a diamonds-and-pearls gal, but very spiritual”), Tanya Brown (i.e., the Brown sister that wasn’t in the media every day for two or three years in the wake of the Brown-Goldman murders) has some genuinely affecting revelations about her sister’s relationship with Simpson. So, too, does David LeBon, a close friend from Nicole’s teenage years, who recounts the then 30-year-old Simpson — and at the time married, with two kids and a third on the way — hitting on the then 18-year-old restaurant hostess, and renting his new mistress an apartment because he was jealous of Nicole’s (platonic) relationship with LeBon, a roommate. In other words, there’s stuff here that’s new or interesting, even if it’s not always flattering for the subjects (a high school teacher recounts Nicole’s stated career objective to “marry someone famous”). Occasionally, the chats tip into downright uncomfortable territory; Dr. Susan Forward, billed as Nicole’s therapist, talks generally about the “Swiss cheese conscience” of domestic batterers, but also delves rather specifically into Brown and Simpson’s history, which feels a bit unnerving. And yet it’s that level of real and personal detail that gives these titles their pop. One can’t quite completely look away… even if on some level they would like to.
Housed in regular plastic, white Amaray cases featuring cover photos of the reenactment participants, with a unifying stamp of “Final 24: A Dramatization” stuck in the lower righthand corner, all the Final 24 titles come on region-free discs, and run right around 48 minutes apiece. There are no accompanying bonus materials, so an audience member must bring to each title their own level of pre-gauged interest and historical contextualization. B+ (Movies) D+ (Discs)