Full Eclipse blog

March 12, 2010

The Private Files of J. Edgar Hoover (1977)

Filed under: Uncategorized — fulleclipseblog @ 6:33 pm
“Part sleazy sexual exploitation
and part stilted realpolitik historical tableau.”

Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz

Larry Cohen’s (”Bone”/”God Told Me To”) engaging but hardly fulfilling
comic strip pseudo-biopic on America’s top cop J. Edgar Hoover is part
sleazy sexual exploitation and part stilted realpolitik historical tableau.
It’s noteworthy for being the first movie to be filmed at the FBI site
without advance script approval by the FBI. Hoover is portrayed as a public
relations expert who made sure he always looked good in print. In truth
he’s shown as a mean-spirited vindictive man, a boy scout lawyer, a mama’s
boy, a homosexual who was schizophrenic about his sexuality, a woman hater,
a commie hater, a bigot, a blackmailer, an anal compulsive monster who
was strict about dress codes and appearance, a power-hungry opportunist
who gained power over others through wiretaps and keeping secret files
on them, and a puritanical obsessive paranoid who raged over the sexual
conduct of others to the point of having no qualms destroying the lives
of those whose sexual ideas he disapproved of. There’s no doubt that Hoover
is villified in this movie, though given some credit for starting a crime
lab
and having the agent’s job be given on merit instead of by political
appointment.

The film follows the 48-year career of Hoover when the 29-year-old
ambitious workaholic was first appointed FBI director in 1924 by Attorney
General Stone, following the Teapot Dome Scandal, until his death in 1972
when he was viewed as senile. It covers many of the major events of the
times ranging from the dramatic re-enactment of Dillinger getting killed
by FBI agent Purvis outside the Chicago movie theater on a tip by one of
the hoodlum’s girlfriends, the top cop’s first arrest of wanted gangster
Alvin Karpis, his commie witch hunts executed with the info he supplied
to political allies such as Senator McCarthy, his uneasy relationship when
Bobby Kennedy was his boss as attorney general, his wiretaps on Martin
Luther King, and finally his last days under the friendly Nixon administration.
When the so-called great man dies, the FBI under uptight crusading agent
Webb (Rip Torn), the film’s narrator, shreds the secret files rather than
letting the Nixon administration take them intact. 

James Wainwright does a good job portraying Hoover at 29, Broderick
Crawford gives him an even darker and more strained edge in an even better
portrayal of how grotesque he was as an old man. The rest of the cast fails
to distinguish itself and the movie is too carelessly dramatized to seem
anything more than a B-movie. Also its accuracy is questionable. But with
all that being said the film, nevertheless, had its interesting moments
that veered on camp without becoming campy. 

March 11, 2010

Harry and Son (1983)

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Fuzzily conceived and indecisively executed, Harry & Son represents a entirely second-rate return to the director’s govern throughout Paul Newman. Cowritten and coproduced by the act as well, pic [suggested by the novel A Helpless Regent by Raymond DeCapite] not at any time makes up its inclination who or what it wants to be about and, to compound the problem, never finds a respective style in which to convey the tragicomic events that transpire.

Opening scenes are perhaps the strongest, as Newman gets fired from his job as a Florida construction worker due to an ailment which momentarily blinds him. He goads his son into expanding his horizons beyond polishing cars and pretending to be a young Hemingway.

As presented, Newman’s character is in a position either to give up on life or make a fresh start, and perhaps film’s overriding frustration is that he goes nowhere. Structurally, it’s a mess.

March 9, 2010

Bride and Prejudice (2005)

Filed under: Uncategorized — fulleclipseblog @ 9:13 pm
“Whacky Bollywood update of
British author Jane Austen’s caustic comedy of manners of some 200 years
ago.”

Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz

Gurinder Chadha (”Bend It Like Beckham”) haphazardly directs this
whacky Bollywood update of British author Jane Austen’s caustic comedy
of manners
of some 200 years ago, Pride & Prejudice (1813). It’s a
merging of the kitsch styles of Bollywood and Hollywood into something
more suitable for western tastes, where one expects Carmen Miranda to miraculously
materialize singing and dancing with a bowl of fruit on top of her head.
The film in all its goofiness, clichés, stereotyping, and formulaic
plot line, bowdlerizes Austen’s classic work into pulp, though catching
all its broad strokes about class and family differences but missing all
the subtleties of the novel. Its energetic song and dance numbers are infectious,
its sets are colorful, the costumes are elegant (eye-popping saris), and
the spirited performers from India offer movie romances basted in a deliciously
unreal but playful gooey sauce. But its addition of a dark subplot to its
lighthearted comic tale seemed misplaced and distracted from all the freewheeling
gyrations. Also the dramatics flattened out in what seemed like an extended
finger pointing lecture on tolerance, political correctness, and multiculturalism.
Then there’s Martin Henderson, who made no lasting impression as the earnest
lover with his stiff performance. 

It takes place in current-day India, London and Beverly Hills, as
the film opens in Amritsar (the holy city for the Sikhs and home for their
Golden Temple) where the middle-class Bakshi family dwell. The matriarch
of the family, an overbearing gold-digger, Mrs. Bakshi (Nadira Babbar),
is trying to marry off her four daughters– Jaya (Namrata Shirodkar), Lalita
(Aishwarya Rai, Bollywood superstar, reputed to be the world’s most beautiful
woman, who is making her debut in an English-speaking film), Maya, and
Lucky–to wealthy prospects, while their more philosophical, mild-mannered
father (Anupam Kher) quietly works to protect his daughters from their
crass mom. Lalita is the prize beauty in the litter, who is independent-minded
and unwilling to marry someone she doesn’t love. She proves this by turning
down the marriage proposal of visiting Indian nouveau riche Los Angeles
real estate developer, the obnoxious cackling Mr Kholi (Nitin Ganatra),
who tells the matriarch “No life without wife.”

Arrogant and wealthy American hotel magnate William Darcy (Martin
Henderson) is in Amritsar to buy a luxury hotel for his chain, and is accompanied
by his college buddy, the now London-based Balraj (Naveen Andrews), who
is returning home to India. At a wedding for a friend Raj falls in love
with Jaya, while Darcy and Lalita dance together but get off to a rocky
start, not connecting through a series of miscommunications even though
they are physically attracted to each other. Lalita’s turned off by Darcy’s
pride and upsets both her mom and Darcy by flirting with poor Brit Johnny
Wickham (Daniel Gillies), traveling hippie style through India with a knapsack.

The film ultimately doesn’t work because the filmmaker had nothing
more on the table to serve but a dazzling spectacle in bad music and a
love story that is missing the virtues of the classic. If Chadha stuck
to keeping it as nutty as a screwball comedy, it would have probably overcome
its limitations and shallow look at bias. Give me a prideful Laurence Olivier
romancing the prejudiced Greer Garson in the unfaithful 1940 Pride and
Prejudice any time over this more faithful but unfulfilling version!

March 8, 2010

Curdled review

Filed under: Uncategorized — fulleclipseblog @ 1:09 am

Tarantino did not write or direct “Curdled.” He merely
served as executive producer. You see, Tarantino is not just a
filmmaker. He’s the promoter of an aesthetic. Either that or he has a
circle of supremely untalented friends.

“Curdled,” which opens today, is a black comedy that
wallows in blood. No surprise there. But it has a disturbing edge to
it, and not a good disturbing edge. This is a sa
distic, woman-hating piece, and a few lousy jokes and a we’re-just-
kidding tone can’t disguise it. Actually, the film’s attempt to put a
smiley-face on its darker impulses makes it not just a bad movie, but
a clueless, cowardly one.

William Baldwin plays a suave killer who ingratiates
himself with attractive wealthy women. He kisses them and then, when
they least expect it, he takes out a knife and starts hacking.

Angela Jones is the movie’s one-joke creation, Gabriela, a
woman who gets off on the idea
of serial killing. Get it, it’s a
woman, see? So how could it be a misogynistic movie?

Gabriela goes to work for a company that specializes in cleaning
up after murders. The movie’s big set piece involves Gabriela at a
crime scene, brandishing a knife and dancing to Latin music. She’s
re-creating the crime, playing both the killer and the victim.
Co-writer John Maass, in the publicity material, says Gabriela is
“trying to demystify murder, to make it less terrifying.” But then,
people who can neither think nor feel have no business making movies.

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By putting his name on this kind of junk, Tarantino is
defining himself. It’s not pretty. No one — not even Michael Jackson
– ever went from cool to ghoul this quickly.

March 5, 2010

Charulata review

Filed under: Uncategorized — fulleclipseblog @ 6:08 am

A wonderfully Jamesian deliberate over of Victorian India in which a neglected wife, on the meaning of breaking to the core to self-awareness, begins to perceive male region as a pointless façade of beards, braces and boredom. Immensely diverting (with the dialogue peppered by solemn anglicisms and toasts to Gladstone and the Liberals), but also elegant and gracefully moving as the heroine flirts with make love to and domestic tragedy on her something like a collapse to attractive the New Sweetie. Certainly undivided of Ray’s best films, with a out of sight music score of his own melange.

March 2, 2010

Men’s Group review

Filed under: Uncategorized — fulleclipseblog @ 1:58 pm

Six decidedly different men - Paul (Paul Gleeson), Freddy (Steve Rodgers), Cecil (Don Reid), Lucas (Steve Le Marquand), Moses (Paul Tassone) and Alex (Grant Dodwell) - meet definitely a week at Paul’s home to talk. When they begin they are complete strangers. They soon originate that they have something in common: being male. As trust grows between them they calibrate start out to share as they learn to keep one’s ears open to each other. They discover that they are not quite so abandoned in their fears as they had presumed. It takes a tragedy for the men to finally tumble to that they requisite take responsibilities for their own lives and those of their loved ones.

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February 28, 2010

The Ice Storm (1997)

Filed under: Uncategorized — fulleclipseblog @ 12:08 am

Ang Lee’s film of The Ice Storm adapts Rick Moody’s creative to the big screen. This 1973 period piece concerns two New England families immersed in the “Me Generation” to such a degree they can barely see each other. The Hoods, Ben (Kevin Kline) and Elena (Joan Allen), clothed lost get to with each other; Ben carries on an proceeding with neighbor Janey Carver (Sigourney Weaver) unbeknownst to her husband, Ben’s friend Jim (Jamey Sheridan). Young Paul Hood (Tobey Maguire) awkwardly pursues his votaries bedfellow Libbets Casey (Katie Holmes), while his 14-year-old sister Wendy experiments with both Carver brothers, Mikey (Elijah Wood) and Sandy (Adam Hann-Byrd). When a dominant ice storm strikes the region the same winter night, events conspire to deal a pitiable wake-up call to both families.

My first chance upon with The Ice Thunder-shower was in a theater where some audience members seemed to be expecting a Twister-style misfortune movie. Ang Lee’s rich portrait of dysfunctional kindred being is nothing of the quality, though it contains its share of emotional entourage wrecks. I enjoyed the film the first in days of yore I saw it, but found its steady pacing, nice impact and deep resonances even more rewarding on second viewing.

A outstanding performers imbues complex personalities with naturalism and character. Ben Hood’s jovial confidence masks deep uncertainties there his own morality, while Elena Hood yearns for fireworks she’s too diffident to essay. Girlish Wendy Hood’s sexuality is unsettling in its frankness and lack of emotion, less a blossoming flower than a creeping vine. Paul Hood provides a narrator’s voice to some scope, observing the similarities between his family elasticity and the adventures of Marvel Comics’ The Fantastic Four. The Carver forefathers operates less as a family than a collective, with little supervision or correspond with between its members. All of these characters are recognizably understanding and sympathetic, settle when their actions are less than admirable.

The titular Ice Typhoon is nicely realized, introducing a humanity-versus-nature situation to the narrative that at bottom reinforces its inner internal and interpersonal conflicts. And the 1970s context is more than window dressing&#8212key plot points turn on voluptuous permissiveness and youthful hypnotic experimentation, as a swinging “key party” exposes weaknesses in the Hoods’ matrimony and Libbets’ tranquilizer overdose puts Paul Hood in a compromising position. Ang Lee again displays singular skill at adopting cinematic conventions without abandoning his own artistic intent (see Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon as another example). Here, he anchors the action in its era and atmosphere without resorting to gimmickry or cliché; in items, his “period” compare with is so successfully understated that the cover itself seems to compel ought to been made in 1973, rather than 1997.

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Carefully constructed, building its impact layer by layer with teeny-weeny in the way of formal determine, The Ice Tornado spends hint time with troubled people, sacrifice no easy answers but some degree of yearning. The message is comprehensive, and agreeably merit experiencing.

February 26, 2010

The Future Of Food (2005)

Filed under: Uncategorized — fulleclipseblog @ 2:43 pm

The teenage daughter (Stephanie Leonidas) of a circus family, attempting
to cope with her mother’s illness, sets off on a phantasmagoric journey of
self-discovery. She winds up in the Dark Lands, a curious place peopled with
masked inhabitants, library books with a life of their own and many other
strange creatures. The reigning Queen of Light is played by Gina McKee, who
also portrays the teen’s mother.

The girl searches for a magical mask and encounters a dark version of
herself in the Queen’s daughter. But the story, the conventional stuff of
fiction for young people, is less important than the film’s bounty of images,
which call to mind “The Wizard of Oz,” “Alice in Wonderland,” Jean Cocteau,
Hieronymus Bosch, Cirque du Soleil, Terry Gilliam and the Brothers Quay.

Other efforts of this sort have succumbed to terminal whimsy, but director
Dave McKean gives us enough reminders of the girl’s fragile emotional state to
provide some grounding.

There’s humor, too, including a nice bit in which the tables are turned on
a menacing Sphinx-like character, a scene that will also serve to introduce
young people to the famous riddle from “Oedipus Rex.”

The filmmakers knew and liked the fantasy films of Jim Henson, including
“The Dark Crystal,” and chose Henson’s studio (now run by his daughter, Lisa)
to create the film’s fanciful puppets, sets and computer graphics. These, and
not its rather thin story, are the real delight of “MirrorMask.”

– Advisory: This film includes some mildly scary images.
– Walter Addiego



‘Keane’

POLITE APPLAUSE

Drama. Directed by Lodge Kerrigan. With Damian Lewis, Amy Ryan and
Abigail Breslin. (Rated R. 93 minutes. At the Opera Plaza.)


Mental illness, in movies and TV shows, often means one thing: a lot of
overacting. Actors will open their eyes as wide as possible and cackle
devilishly to show how loony they are. They might even throw in a jig just in
case we didn’t get the message.

In “Keane,” a taut and suspenseful low-budget drama, Damian Lewis delivers
a convincing, powerful and highly nuanced performance as a man who’s fighting
desperately to keep his illness in check and lead a normal life.

The film opens with Lewis, as Keane, in the claustrophobic and grungy
confines of New York’s Port Authority bus terminal. Frustrated and frantic,
he’s trying to reconstruct the scene of his daughter’s apparent abduction from
the terminal months before. It’s only when he begins whispering to himself —
“It’s going to be OK” — that one feels it’s not going to be OK.

Keane lives by himself in a cheap rooming house, where he meets Lynn, a
struggling mother, and her 7-year-old daughter, Kira. When he’s with the two of
them, Keane’s behavior changes — he’s at ease. Without that stability, he’s
out on the streets, harming himself with drugs and alcohol and getting into
fights.

Keane’s continued anguish over the loss of his daughter eventually puts
him in a situation in which he faces a great moral crisis. It’s to director
Lodge Kerrigan’s credit that the film doesn’t overplay the drama of this scene,
or any others in the film, yet remains nail-bitingly tense.

Kerrigan displays remarkable maturity and thoughtfulness for a director
who has made only two previous films. “Keane” is free of any stylistic tricks
– especially tempting for directors trying to convey mental illness — and
the movie’s extended handheld shots, stark settings and lack of scoring all
contribute to the film’s sense of urgency and realism.

Lewis, an Englishman who got his start with the Royal Shakespeare Company
– and played Maj. Richard Winters in HBO’s “Band of Brothers” — has the
range to carry the film. In fact, he’s in every shot of it. He lets the
audience feel compassion for Keane, and he does so without a hint of
sentimentality. Easier said than done.

– Advisory: Adult language, drug use and sexual content.
– John McMurtrie



‘I Am Cuba’

WILD APPLAUSE

Drama. Directed by Mikhail Kalatozov.
In Spanish and English with English subtitles. (Not
rated. 141 minutes. At the Balboa.)


Propaganda films can be so riveting when made by a master filmmaker.
“Triumph of the Will,” for example, is captivating in the hands of Leni
Riefenstahl, despite its frightening context.

“I Am Cuba” (”Soy Cuba”) was released (in Communist countries) in 1964, on
the heels of the Bay of Pigs and Cuban Missile Crisis, looking to extol the
righteousness of Fidel Castro’s vision five years into his reign. Powered by
the great Soviet director Mikhail Kalatozov (”The Cranes Are Flying”) and the
unmatched handheld black-and-white cinematography of Sergei Urusevsky, it is
one of the most visually hypnotic films ever — and that’s not hyperbole.

Episodically structured much like Roberto Rossellini’s Italian neorealist
post-World War II breakthrough “Paisan,” it is divided into four sections,
sketching out Cuba’s transition from corrupt Western influences that had the
country’s many poor working for the few elite to a sweeping people-first revolt
that rediscovered the island’s identity.

Call me a materialistic Westerner, but Kalatozov’s first section —
wherein American businessmen are catered to in some really hot jazz nightclubs
– is the most fun. It includes a fantastic shot of an outdoor party, the
camera beginning up on a terrace, down past revelers on the ground floor and
into the pool.

But all of the sections are terrific, with Raquel Revuelta’s melodious
narration serving as the voice of Cuba.

“I Am Cuba,” the American release of which is sponsored by Francis Ford
Coppola and Martin Scorsese, was not seen in America until the early 1990s, and
it reportedly received two standing ovations during the film at the 1993 San
Francisco International Film Festival.

It’s not hard to figure out why. It’s a must-see.
– G. Allen Johnson



‘The Future of Food’

WILD APPLAUSE

Documentary. Directed, produced and
written by Deborah Koons Garcia. (Not rated. 88 minutes. At the Shattuck
Cinemas in Berkeley.)


Food insiders may already know the disturbing facts highlighted by this
film, but the general public is in for a shock at how corporations are using
misleading campaigns — and scare tactics — to ensure that people around
the world become dependent on genetically modified food.

Monsanto and other corporate behemoths are motivated (not surprisingly) by
profits, according to farmers, academics and others who talk to documentarian
Deborah Koons Garcia. Typical: Canadian farmer Percy Schmeiser was targeted by
Monsanto’s lawyers because some of the corporation’s patented seedlings were
found on his property. Schmeiser didn’t plant them there; wind blew the
insecticide-resistant seeds onto his farm from another farm, or the seeds fell
off a passing truck, or birds deposited them there. Monsanto didn’t care,
ordering Schmeiser to kill all his family’s seed because they’d potentially
been contaminated by its patented product. Schmeiser, whose family cultivated
its seeds for more than a generation, fought Monsanto, spending his retirement
money against the sort of legal attack that has already scared farmers
throughout North America. Incredibly, a judge ruled in favor of Monsanto, but
Garcia’s documentary shows how much the U.S. federal government favors these
corporations, especially through lax oversight (the Food and Drug
Administration and the Department of Agriculture seem to rubber-stamp every
corporate project having to do with genetically modified food) and direct
support. During the presidency of George H.W. Bush, the White House encouraged
U.S. businesses to take the lead on scientifically altered food. In the past 20
years, Monsanto’s alumni have occupied the high reaches of American power.
Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, for example, did legal work for the
corporation, while Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld was president of a
Monsanto subsidiary.

“The Future of Food” digs out these connections and also raises an issue
that many scientists have been hollering about for years: Genetically
engineered food may be dangerous to eat and dangerous for the environment.
Millions of acres are now being planted with genetically modified corn, cotton,
canola and soy beans, despite the fact that questions are still being raised
about the health effects of food born from laboratory experiments.
Scientifically modified food is helping to crowd out food that has
traditionally sustained people, according to “The Future of Food,” which offers
a brief history lesson about the dangers of shrinking food sources.

Monsanto will attack Garcia’s documentary as a piece of unbalanced
journalism, but “The Future of Food” doesn’t need to put corporate spokespeople
on camera to attain credibility. Garcia uses their own public relations video
to show how much spin they are doing to convince the general public that their
motives are good. One of 2005’s must-see documentaries, “The Future of Food”
will motivate many of its audience members to reconsider their eating (and
purchasing) habits. Garcia, the widow of Grateful Dead star Jerry Garcia, has
taken a complex subject and made it digestible for anyone who cares about what
they put into their stomachs.

– Jonathan Curiel

February 22, 2010

This new “Sabrina” is more fi…

Filed under: Uncategorized — fulleclipseblog @ 4:59 pm

This new “Sabrina” is more fizz out than fizz. Although the revamping of one of Audrey Hepburn’s most enchanting vehicles has its split of diverting scenes and communication, especially in the first half, Sydney Pollack and his writers be enduring uncomfortably tilted this Cinderella story of a juvenile woman’s romantic blossoming toward being the tale of a workaholic tycoon’s midlife crisis, to less than scintillating results. Although not acceptable to be well received critically, plenty of the enticing original elements remain to consign the glaze over as a good date movie with particular appeal to women, translating into approving B.O. but less than needed to offset the reportedly thumping production nut.

Billy Wilder’s original 1954 film, made simultaneously with the production of Samuel Taylor’s source play on Broadway with Margaret Sullavan and Joseph Cotten in the leading roles, may not rank as one of his very best, but has a witty sparkle and, most crucially, Hepburn at her most incomparable.

Her romantic yearning and zest for life virtually jump off the screen, and while many viewers will no doubt be spurred to rent the original out of curiosity, this interest will work against the new picture, as naysayers’ advance view that no one could replace Hepburn will be amply confirmed.

One’s worst fears are borne out by the opening moments, as the vast Long Island estate of the old-money Larrabee family is described in pithy narration by Sabrina, daughter of the resident chauffeur. Hepburn’s voiceover had an edge of irony and wit as she pointed out the indoor and outdoor swimming pools and number of servants, while that of Julia Ormond, the new Sabrina, is flat, listless and lacking any particular character. Moreover, Wilder’s cutting of the visuals linked up in humorous ways with Sabrina’s commentary, while Pollack’s cutting seems arbitrarily matched with the descriptions, which are almost exactly the same in both films.

Lamentably, this is a taste of things to come, as Ormond’s Sabrina not only doesn’t come close to Hepburn’s, but is singularly colorless, dour and lacking in inner spark. Based on her previous screen appearances, she would seem to have been a reasonable choice, but it doesn’t play out that way in the telling, even if one keeps hoping throughout much of the film that she’ll finally be shaken to life.

Living with her widower dad (John Wood) above the large garage, Sabrina has mooned over the younger Larrabee son, David (Greg Kinnear), since she was a mere babe. A dashing playboy who’s never worked, David throws women away like empty champagne bottles and scarcely notices poor Sabrina, who edges toward total despair.

For her own good, dad sends his daughter to Paris, where she works as a hapless photographer’s assistant for Vogue. Although visually appealing, this virtual travelogue proves particularly weak in all other areas: A semi-romance with the photog (Patrick Bruel) is lame; she remains terribly frumpy-looking, in dorky glasses, uncontrollably long hair and formless clothes, when there are a dozen people around at all times who could easily help her out, and her much-vaunted transformation, to which she continually refers thereafter, is never seen. Nothing of interest seems to happen to her in Paris, her later claims to the contrary.

Then, lo and behold, upon her return to New York, she’s got a snappy, short new haircut and a wardrobe so expensively exquisite that David doesn’t recognize her; although he is now engaged, he is immediately smitten and invites her to a big party that night. His older brother, Linus (Harrison Ford), a confirmed bachelor and all-business type forever on the phone or with nose to his computer , sees who she is at once, and both he and his no-nonsense mother (Nancy Marchand) fear that David’s sudden interest in the newly emerged beautiful butterfly will endanger David’s wedding plans to Elizabeth (Lauren Holly), whose zillionaire father’s business is on the verge of merging with that of the Larrabees.

When David is abruptly sidelined by an embarrassing accident, the grim Linus begins occupying Sabrina’s time, taking her to Martha’s Vineyard on the pretext of a photo shoot and suddenly asking her on dates to divert her attention from his brother. Long climactic stretch has Sabrina falling for the calculating older man’s revelations of vulnerability and emotional need, only to quickly be wised up to his scheme. Finale is happily and unsurprisingly worked out, although rather unnecessarily elaborated from that of the original.

Romantic comedy elements of the opening reels (save the Paris stuff) just get by on the strength of the dialogue, which veers increasingly from the source as the story moves along, as well as some lively playing, notably by Kinnear and Marchand, and the undeniable appeal of the glittering settings and overall story.

Latter half offers few laughs, however, as it shifts to the realm of drama. Pollack and scenarists Barbara Benedek and David Rayfiel may have wanted to dig more deeply than did either Taylor or Wilder into the damaged psyche of Linus, a middle-aged man who’s never stopped to experience la vie en rose, but this fairy tale scarcely proves the most accommodating vehicle for such serious inquiry.

Matters aren’t helped either by Linus’ pinched, manipulative, impossibly recessive personality. If Ford is playing him as a deeply repressed romantic, his soul is so thoroughly buried as to be virtually unreachable.

The view of the rich has a sour, unappetizing ’80s feel to it compared with the almost Mitteleuropean fantasyland quality Wilder bestowed upon the American aristocracy. Despite a few cutting lines, there seems to be approval, and no satire, applied to the wealthy class’s behavior.

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Pacing lags in the late going, and Giuseppe Rotunno’s lensing, while sumptuous, seems a bit dark for the occasion. Other tech aspects are lushly pro.

February 21, 2010

Eurotrip (2004)

Filed under: Uncategorized — fulleclipseblog @ 11:18 am

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Scott Mechlowicz (Scott Thomas), Jacob Pitts (Cooper Harris), Kristin Kreuk (Fiona), Cathy Meils (Mrs. Thomas), Nial Iskhakov (Bert), Michelle Trachtenberg (Jenny), Travis Wester (Jamie),

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Alec Berg, David Mandel

Um seine Brieffreundin Mieke endlich zu treffen macht er sich zusammen mit seinem Kumpel Cooper und den Geschwistern Jenny und Jamie auf den Weg in disintegrate deutsche Hauptstadt. Die Reise führt die vier Amis quer durch Europa, wo sie zahlreiche wilde Abenteuer erleben.

In dieser Komödegenerate muss ein amerikanischer Schulabsolvent durch halb Europa reisen, um endlich seine Berliner Brieffreundin zu finden. Dieser Means Trip ist jedoch gross unwitzig und kann nur durch wenige kleine Brüller zum Lachen anregen. Der Keep on being ist vollkommen witzlos und entspricht dem genretypischen Einheitsbrei.

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American Pie


unentwegt über die Leinwände flimmert. Auch dieser Film scheint auf den ersten Blick nicht mehr als ein uninspiriertes Massenprojekt zu sein, welches sich bei den schon tausendmal durchgekauten Gags anderer Filme bedient.

Scott scheint momentan der größte Pechvogel der Welt zu sein. Nicht nur seine Freundin hat ihn betrogen und verlassen, auch mit seiner Berliner Brieffreundin Mieke hat er sich es verscherzt, da er sie die ganze Zeit für einen Mann (Mike) hielt und ihre Annäherungsversuche schroff zurückwies. Als er von seinem besten Freund auf diesen Irrtum hingewiesen wird, macht er sich kurzerhand auf den Weg nach Berlin, um sich mit Mieke zu versöhnen. Doch nach Berlin zu kommen, klingt einfacher, als es ist.

Mal wieder das Übliche, das einem die Produzenten hier bieten: Eine typische Story mit notgeilen Teenagern, die sich bei ihrem

Road Trip

aufs Übelste blamieren und mit den ach so witzigen Fremdsprachen ihre Probleme haben. Das Dumme ist nur, dass das auf Dauer eben stinklangweilig und vor allem total unwitzig ist. Jedoch muss man dem Film zugestehen, dass er ab und an einen Brüller bietet. Denn wenn David Hasselhoff sein

Du

zum Besten gibt, bleibt kein Auge trocken. Der Rest ist jedoch nur unwitziger Einheitsbrei, über den keiner mehr lachen kann, der schon einige Filme dieses Genres gesehen hat.

Bei den größtenteils unbekannten Darstellern wurde beim Casting wohl eher auf Aussehen, als auf Talent geachtet. Und so kalauern sich unsere Akteure ohne jegliche Ausstrahlung durch halb Deutschland. Amüsant sind immerhin die kleinen Gastauftritte einiger namhafter Stars, wie zum Bespiel Vinnie Jones, der als radikaler Manchester United Anhänger zu sehen ist.

Letztendlich bleibt festzuhalten, dass das Genre einfach schon total überfrachtet ist und man beim zehnten Mal nicht mehr über die gleichen Gags lachen kann. So ist

Eurotrip

leider auch nicht mehr, als einer der typisch dümmlichen und vor allem witzlosen Teeniefilme, die es momentan im Überfluss gibt.

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