For my latest DVD/Blu-ray column, over at ShockYa, I take a gander at the “Totally Irresponsible” version of Jonah Hill‘s bawdy The Sitter, the controversial first season of AMC’s The Killing, the documentary In the Garden of Sounds, a bunch of concert DVDs, a South African zombie flick, and more. Again, for the fun full read, click here. 

The idea of sexual swinging, or committed couples swapping partners, opens up all sorts of rich avenues for exploration of feeling, but the London-set comedy Swinging With the Finkels does so little of substance or sincerity with the subject that one starts to yearn for the comparative honesty of a lonely hearts drama with a forlorn guy swigging a beer and staring at a computer screen. In fact, the movie evinces no particular reason for existing other than to seemingly provide its pleasant but half-heartedly invested cast with paychecks, and perhaps serve as the answer for the trivia question of in which film Mandy Moore mock-masturbates with a cucumber.

Ellie (Moore) and Alvin (Martin Freeman) are a young, married white-collar couple seemingly suffering from a bit of the seven-year itch. Friends Peter (Jonathan Silverman) and Janet (Melissa George) are little help, the journey into parenthood having thrown something of a speed bump into their relationship. Seemingly because one attempt at “spicing it up” in the bedroom went awry (she wore sexy lingerie and lit mood candles, and he donned a fireman’s costume… ha!), Ellie and Alvin make the (entirely il)logical jump to swinging, eventually settling on a seemingly normal couple (Angus Deayton and Daisy Beaumont). After the Saturday night deed is done, things proceed but, magically, don’t get immediately better for Ellie and Alvin. What’s a committed but sexually frustrated couple to do?

Swinging With the Finkels is supposedly rated R, but it’s quite possibly the tamest R in recent memory, especially for a film dealing with matters sexual. Director Jonathan Newman’s movie is definitely the “fem” version of a swingers’ tale, with relationship mechanics valued much more over any possible prurient interests. Problematically, though, it also exists chiefly as a collection of nipped sitcom contrivances, from Ellie’s theatrically gay coworker (who gives her the initial idea of partner-swapping) and a montage of “zany” bad fits who respond to Ellie and Alvin’s sex ad to a forced-uncomfortable sequence in which an old person (in this case Ellie’s grandfather, played by Jerry Stiller) dispenses sex advice. Wow, how novel.

The script digs into none of these scenes with great aplomb, and it additionally requires Ellie and Alvin’s friends to nonsensically implode their marriage by having Peter tell Janet about a one-off affair, merely so there is some minor element of introduced contrast to Ellie and Alvin’s plight. Two grossly overwritten office pals of Alvin also serve this function, and an extremely flat shooting style and hammy music cues additionally do the material no favors. Somewhat unexpectedly, The Finkels manages to make both stanch, devoted monogamy and quiet singlehood look attractive — no small (or purposeful) accomplishment for a movie about swinging and its churned-up feelings.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Swinging With the Finkels comes to DVD presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional English subtitles. Under motion menus, divided into 10 chapters, the DVD’s supplemental features consist only of its trailer and a 10-minute short film, Sex With the Finkels, which apparently served as the movie’s inspiration. So no, Moore fans… there’s no behind-the-scenes interview material about that cucumber scene. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. D+ (Movie) C- (Disc)

For my latest DVD/Blu-ray column, over at ShockYa, I confess how unsettling I find Channing Tatum’s moustache in The Son of No One, plus take a gander at Dirty Girl, a tribute to Bernie Mac, 50 Cent’s latest stab at screenwriting, the memorably titled Nude Nuns with Big Guns, and more. Again, for the fun full read, click here.

An inoffensive but hardly essential piece of occupational boosterism, American Teacher provides a look at the public education crisis in the United States through the eyes of those often lambasted or pilloried as somehow being a bigger part of the problem than of the solution. Directed by Academy Award-winning director Vanessa Roth, the documentary spotlights the extraordinary personal sacrifices that a lot of instructors make by choosing to teach — as well as how qualified and otherwise passionate people are sometimes driven from the field by the rocky shoals of hard-knock financial reality. Many of the subjects here are inspiring, but, sadly, American Teacher comes off as more of a staid, herky-jerky stump speech than a fiery and clarifying call to action.

Supposedly narrated by Matt Damon (I say supposedly only because it sounds very little like the Oscar-winning actor, as if he’s trying to drain the personality and tone out of his voice), the film purports to chronicle the stories of a quartet of teachers — Harvard graduate and New Jersey elementary school teacher Rhena Jasey; seventh grade Texas gym coach and history teacher Erik Benner; pregnant Brooklyn first grade instructor Jamie Fidler, herself the daughter of a teacher; and Jonathan Dearman, a role model at a predominantly African-American San Francisco high school. American Teacher gives each of these individuals an actual arc; they’re speaking on their personal experiences, and what teaching has both meant to them and, in different ways, cost them. This is an interesting tack, one not often associated with nonfiction films of a certain persuasive mien. Interspersed with their recollections and insights, though, is a wide variety of other talking-head footage, which comes across as scattershot in its inclusion and placement.

American Teacher is at its best when underlining what those who lamely trot out the tired old cliche that “those who can do, while those who can’t teach” fail to acknowledge or even entertain — namely, that teaching, for those who are truly invested in the work, is among the most intellectually rigorous occupations. After all, teachers are constant, active decision makers — not only working to circumvent certain social constructs, but developing, sometimes even on the fly, relatable ways to not only impart information but also a complementary, contextual reasoning of why these facts and skill sets are important.

Too frequently, though, the movie loses sight on this theme, slipping off into statistical homilies (that 46 percent of teachers are out of the field within five years, for instance, which creates additional structural costs and places even more enormous strains on dwindling resources) that are related, yes, but hijack the movie’s emotional momentum. Good teachers — the ones that inspire and open your eyes to a world of both possibilities and responsibilities larger than you’d heretofore considered — are an invaluable commodity. By showing how we’re failing those charged with actually developing our kids, American Teacher has the chance to locate an unexpectedly emotional connection to the sedate issue of education. Too bad, then, that it loses focus and takes its eyes off the prize, unnecessarily substituting macro lessons when its localized examples pack more of a punch.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, American Teacher comes to DVD presented in 1.85:1 widescreen, with optional English SDH captions and a Dolby digital 2.0 stereo track that more than adequately handles the title’s straightforward aural demands. Under a motion menu, the movie is divided into nine chapters, and contains a limited slate of bonus material in the form of excised interviews. Additional expert outtakes, running about five-and-a-half minutes, allow Linda Darling-Hammond, Mark Bounds, Carina Wong, Brad Jupp and Sabrina Laine more time to opine on adolescent education (Darling-Hammond ruminates on teaching being regarded as a feminized profession, and why that may have something to do with a historical lack of respect accorded it), and again sometimes compares American schooling to education aboard. Four minutes of extra interview material with the teacher subjects further expands their respective backstories, while an additional 12 minutes of interview material highlights what great teaching looks like, as characterized by Darling Hammond, Secretary of Education Arne Duncan and others. For more information, or to purchase the DVD via First Run’s website, click here. If Amazon is totally your thing, however, click here. You can also learn more and get active via AmericanTeacherMovie.org. C (Movie) B (Disc)

Not only for helping launch the careers of erstwhile Mouseketeers Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake and Christina Aguilera has the Disney Channel proven enormously successful at peddling impeccably groomed, smoothly packaged, sexually non-threatening pre-teens. Miley Cyrus (pre-salvia and stripper pole) and any number of other entertainers have cut their teeth on peppy and demonstrative sitcoms that peddle cuddly pat-drama fantasies and occupy the exact opposite end of the spectrum that shows like Beverly Hills, 90210 and Gossip Girl did and now do. Those series have the effect of pulling along pre-pubescent adolescents into teenage drama prematurely, while a lot of Disney series and made-for-TV movies aim to have a dampening or delaying impact. Diff’rent strokes, you know?

Geek Charming‘s story charts Dylan (Modern Family‘s Sarah Hyland), a well-off girl who meets cute with A/V wallflower Josh (Matt Prokop) when he rescues her expensive handbag from a mall fountain, and subsequently agrees to be the subject of his new documentary. Ahh, though, therein lies the rub. While Sarah views this as just another cool and important piece of publicity and brand extension that will benefit her campaign for the local title of “Blossom Queen,” Josh is out to craft a hard-hitting look at popularity. As he gets to know her more and Sarah drops her guard a bit, Josh sees a girl he believes to be more interesting than the facade she’s crafted. Will he be able to convince her to let him show that girl to the world, however?

Scripted by Elizabeth Hackett and Hilary Galanoy, and directed by Jeffrey Hornaday, Geek Charming is a light and fluffy piece of entertainment, an inoffensive showcase for its onscreen talent and below-the-line artisans as well, with its colorful costuming and set design. Think of one of the conflicts in Reality Bites — when Winona Ryder’s character finds her video work compromised by Ben Stiller’s corporate jockey — and put a slight spin on that, cross-pollinate it with High School Musical, subtract songs, add feel-good moralizing, romantic myopia and artificial sweetener of your choice, then serve chilled. It’s a snore for anyone over 18, really, but Hyland and Prokop are attractive and engaging enough to keep things moving along and interesting for the movie’s intended audience.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case with a sleeve printed on recycled paper and in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover, Geek Charming comes to DVD in two different packagings, the best being a two-disc combo set which also includes 10 bonus episodes selected from over three seasons’ worth of the Disney Channel show Shake It Up, as well as a pair of matching little charms, which seem like an innocuous throw-in aimed at the tween girl demographic. The movie itself is presented in 1.78:1 widescreen, with consistent colors and no edge enhancement or grain issues, and a Dolby digital 2.0 stereo mix. If you’re expecting a hard-hitting behind-the-scenes expose on Hollywood entertainment production or cast interviews about the nuances of their characters, however, you’re looking in the wrong spot, mates. C (Movie) C+ (Disc)

A murder mystery, forensic investigation and political drama rolled into one, the new-to-DVD Incendiary: The Willingham Case shines a spotlight on the circumstances surrounding Cameron Todd Willingham, a Texas man convicted in the arson deaths of his three young children. Somewhat flatly told but engaging throughout, this documentary will appeal to both newsmagazine junkies and those impassioned by the death penalty debate.



In 1991, an early morning house fire in Corsicana, Texas felled a two-year-old girl and twin infants. Their father, the only other person home at the time, escaped. Charged and convicted largely on shaky arson evidence, Willingham was sentenced to death for the murder of his kids. Despite expert criticism of the prosecutor’s “junk science,” he was executed in 2004. Incendiary focuses largely on the aftermath of that verdict and event, and attempts to win a posthumous reversal of Willingham’s conviction based on fire investigation evidence and a look at the alleged manipulation of a post-mortem state forensics commission stacked by former Republican presidential candidate Rick Perry.

The film, which enjoyed its world premiere last year at the SXSW Festival, where it picked up a special jury prize, certainly makes a persuasive case for the political cronyism of Perry — though the Texas governor is hardly the first politician to dismiss state board appointees in favor of old pals and/or more ideologically like-minded. Whether that amounts to a more sinister cover-up is doubtful, and something of a stretch (and not part of the movie’s agenda, really). Incendiary is most convincing in its evidence concerning the faulty diagnosis of arson, upon which the murder case was obviously based. Dr. Gerald Hurst (above) and John Lentini are intelligent and articulate experts in the field, and they debunk the initial fire investigation report in crisp, relatable fashion.

Still, a weird (and white-hot) amount of outright hostility comes off of Willingham’s own defense attorney, David Martin, who sounds like Hank Hill from King of the Hill and makes no bones about his own beliefs of Willingham’s guilt, even as roosters crow wildly in the background. One could reasonably entertain the argument that such feelings could only be influenced by personal certitude and outrage over the sort of detailed confession that would be protected by attorney-client privilege. Co-directors Steve Mims and Joe Bailey give White a fair shake — he’s the skeptic in their midst — but don’t go out of their way to contextualize, frame and either bolster or refute other evidence against Willingham — like conflicting statements to police and, most particularly, an alleged confession to his wife, the mother of the children. In its failure to address these issues, Incendiary feels a bit incomplete as a true crime tale.

In fact, Paradise Lost this isn’t. The filmmakers have the benefit of tremendously convincing experts (in particular Hurst, a physicist, speaks eloquently of the fact that so many fire investigators have no educational anchor points for elementary science), but they seem afraid of subjecting their feelings on the case to a more rigorous and thorough examination. The transition, halfway through, to a more gear-grinding procedural does not seem to suit the movie. It’s not that Incendiary feels like a politically opportunistic hit piece; it isn’t. It’s just that the criminal investigation and “CYA” political maneuvering that ensues feel less like two sides of the same coin and a bit more like adjacent screw-ups. One thing can be certain, however — guilty or not, you don’t want to be charged with a homicide in Texas.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Incendiary: The Willingham Case comes to DVD presented in 16×9 widescreen, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track that more than adequately handles the movie’s straightforward aural demands. Split into 35 chapters under a motion-menu main screen, Incendiary also includes a copy of its trailer, plus 15 minutes of interview footage with the co-directors in which they discuss the intersection of law, science and politics that first intrigued them about the case, and then talk about how the scope of the film changed with the unanticipated political theater of the January 2010 firings of members of the state forensics commission. They also address the purported confession mentioned by Willingham’s ex-wife, and make smart, salient points about how it differs from earlier statements to the press, and came at a hastily arranged courthouse-steps press conference — absent any follow-up questions — just prior to voting in Perry’s re-election bid. To purchase a copy of the DVD, click here. For more information on the movie, including its trailer, click here. B (Movie) B (Disc)

Correction: An earlier version of this article misidentified Willingham’s defense attorney as David White instead of David Martin. It has since been corrected.

Director Andrew Rossi’s Page One: Inside the New York Times was tremendously well received, lauded for providing a snapshot of both “the Grey Lady” specifically and a newspaper industry teetering on the edge of (ir)relevance in a digital age. Eat This New York, from First Run Features, is another geographically specific subcultural nonfiction curio from Rossi that will receive wider embrace amongst so-called foodies.

The rise in profile of the Food Network, along with all sorts of cooking and baking cable shows on other channels, has created a burgeoning interest in high-class cuisine, and food trends and even chefs in cities we may not inhabit. (Though it’s merely anecdotal, for evidentiary purposes I offer up my sisters, who lives in Washington, D.C., but knows the restaurants in at least five other cities of her favorite Spanish chef.) Featuring culinary luminaries like Daniel Boulud, Sirio Maccioni, Keith McNally, Drew Nieporent, Danny Meyer and Jean-Georges Vongerichten, Eat This New York tells the story of two friends, Billy Phelps and John McCormick, struggling to try to open a new restaurant in the food capital of the world — where there are over 18,000 eateries, and four-fifths of the 1,000 new ones that open each 12 months go out of business in the first five years.

Rossi’s tack is relaxed and inviting, and it certainly helps that he’s chosen two sympathetic figures for his chief subjects. But one of the more heartening things about the movie, despite the appetites it raises, is that it’s not merely a tunnel-vision portrait of dreamy aspirations. Rossi lends voice to these kitchen artisans, heretofore so frequently banished to back rooms, and their insights are interesting, as they often reflect eloquently and offer up not just ideas about what tastes good but also the many other elements that go into creating a dining atmosphere that can capture the imagination and survive beyond the hype associated with an opening rush. Rossi’s film is slim (about 85 minutes), and doesn’t overstay its welcome, but is more filling than a simple appetizer.

Eat This New York comes to DVD housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, and is presented in 1.78:1 widescreen. Its bonus roster is meaty, too — over two hours of extended interviews with some of the country’s top restaurateurs. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. B (Movie) B+ (Disc)