"Jack and Jill"
Richard's Review: 1/2 stars
"Hey! There's a new Adam Sandler movie coming out," is the first part of a sentence no discerning movie fan ever wants to hear. That's bad enough, but it's the next part that really rankles. "And it co-stars Al Pacino." Yes Virginia, it's been a long time since Pacino's name was mentioned in the same breath as Brando and De Niro, but his reputation as one of the great actors of his generation shines a little less brightly today.
Sandler plays both title characters in "Jack and Jill." They're twins who live on different coasts. Jack's California-based advertising agency is about to lose their biggest client, Dunkin' Donuts, if they can't convince Pacino to appear in a commercial for a new product called the Dunkaccino. Jill is a singleton, having devoted her life to looking after their parents back home in the Bronx. She's the kind of plain talker who says things like, "Are you going bald? No, you're getting fat and your hair doesn't realize it has more face to cover."
Now their parents are gone and Jill comes to visit, turning Jack's life upside down in the process. On the upside, Pacino becomes smitten and agrees to do the commercial if he can play Twister with Jack's sister.
Sandler has corralled a number of his friends to make cameo appearances, including one of the biggest stars in the world (wearing a Justin Bieber T-shirt), Bruce Jenner and the usual suspects like David Spade. They get the biggest laughs. The rest of the movie makes some of Sandler's other films, like the odious "Little Nicky," look like the Marx Brothers.
For his part -- or rather, parts -- Sandler does his usual shtick times two. Once in a wig and painted nails and once in his trademark T-shirt and sneakers. We don't expect much more from him, so he doesn't exactly disappoint. But it is hard to understand what Pacino was thinking.
Like Neil Patrick Harris in "Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle," the Oscar winner is playing a heightened version of himself. But his "Pacino related shenanigans," as Jack calls them, aren't funny. Instead, it feels like we're witnessing a slow slide into self-parody. The movie's references to Stella Adler and Marlon Brando only add insult to... well, insult.
Near the end of the movie Pacino says (SLIGHT SPOILER), "Burn this. This must never be seen by anyone." Certainly not anyone who cherishes Pacino's performance in the first two "Godfather" movies. He is, of course, free to do what he wants. We are just as free not to watch it happen.
I don't blame Adam Sandler for showcasing Pacino in this way, but I do have some advice for him. If he keeps making movies as bad as "Jack and Jill" he might end up like Pacino -- appearing in bad Adam Sandler movies.
"J. Edgar"
Richard's Review: 3 stars
"Given the significance of J. Edgar Hoover to the very fabric of the United States, it's not surprising that he is the subject of a big-screen biopic with A-list talent in front of the camera (Leonardo DiCaprio in the title role and Naomi Watts) and behind it thanks to director Clint Eastwood. What is surprising is that it took this long. The man credited with creating the modern method of crime investigation died almost four decades ago. It's almost as though he had hidden files on everyone in Hollywood, stashed away. Waiting...
"J. Edgar" spans fifty years, focusing on its subject's career and the information he gathered to use as leverage against his enemies and the secret he guarded which could have ruined his carefully-constructed image as America's top cop. Controversial, enigmatic and tyrannical, the power-hungry Hoover used his position to bend the law to its breaking point in the name of reform, patriotism and personal glory. Trusty sidekick and constant companion Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer) and faithful secretary Helen Gandy (Naomi Watts) assist in Hoover's efforts to build the FBI, find the Lindbergh baby and discredit Martin Luther King. But this is Hoover's story, warts and all.
"J. Edgar" is a handsome film. Eastwood brings a classic sensibility to the story, shooting on his now trademarked desaturated film stock which gives an almost sepia tone to the movie. It's as though we're actually looking at footage from years ago. It's a nice touch that visually establishes a sense of history to go along with the period costumes and sets.
So far, so good. But as J. Edgar himself understood, appearances can be deceiving. There's not much under the fine performances and the craftsman-like filmmaking -- or maybe there's too much, depending on your point of view.
Lance Dustin Black's script is ambitious, covering fifty turbulent years both politically and personally for Hoover. But as the story jumps from decade to decade, interweaving old and young versions of the characters, you can't help but wish Black and Eastwood had chosen one aspect of the story and told it well instead of this scattershot approach. It's a case of too much information and too little insight.
DiCaprio is remarkable -- and Oscar worthy -- in his ability to convincingly play Hoover over the span of fifty years, although he is aided by some impressive makeup. Too bad Hammer as Hoover's right hand man and possible love interest and Naomi Watts as the ever-faithful secretary Miss. Gandy aren't given the same advantage. Hammer, although effective in his role, resembles a burn victim for much of the movie and Watts, with her running eyes and wrinkled visage, is a living Dorian Gray portrait.
The relationships between Hoover and, well, everyone, don't feel genuine. As a result, there is no emotional impact when the story could use one. We never get a true sense of why these two faithful companions give over their lives to Hoover, who is a cold, calculating tyrant. Eastwood is clearly trying to create a real person out of Hoover. But having him writhing around on the floor wearing his mother's jewelry and dresses is a rather melodramatic way to go about it.
"Immortals"
Richard's Review: 3 stars
Take the best parts of "Troy" and "300" and mix with the excesses of "Clash of the Titans" and you have "Immortals," a stylish Greek mythology drama that effortlessly mixes glistening abs, amour and l'amour.
Loosely based on the Greek myths of Theseus and the Minotaur and the Titanomachy, "Immortals" sees a peasant named Theseus (Henry Cavill) on a mission of revenge against the man who killed his mother, the ruthless Titan Hyperion (Mickey Rourke). Hyperion is searching for the Epirus Bow, a legendary weapon which will allow him to free the rest of his vicious Titans army from their eternal prison. By law the Olympians -- like Poseidon (Kellan Lutz) and Zeus (Luke Evans) -- are unable to help. But with the aid of the beautiful fortune teller Phaedra (Freida Pinto) and a slave thief named Stavros (Stephen Dorff) Theseus goes to war.
Greek mythology hasn't faired well on the big screen in recent years. From the 1960s, the heyday of the sword-and-sandal epics has fallen out of favor. Occasionally a movie like "300" will beak through, but that had more to do with the action, violence and considerable physical charms of its cast than the story.
"Immortals" has some of the same appeal. The violence is amped. Giant hammers squish enemies' heads in a display unseen on film since David Cronenberg filled watermelons up with fake blood and used shotguns to spray the set of "Scanners" with gore. As well, one castration scene will leave the audience feeling very uncomfortable.
The unusually attractive cast is suitably semi-clad, although the Gods look more like club kids ready for a night out at Limelight than deities. But "Immortals" lacks some of the punch of its predecessor.
Cheesy dialogue is often a trademark of sword-and-sandal movies, but even Steve Reeves would have had a hard time uttering, "I am a thief my lady, and if not for these chains I would steal your heart," as Dorff valiantly does mid-movie.
Couple that with an emphasis on style above story -- it's a beauty of a movie, with every frame designed to look as good as the actor's sculpted faces -- and you have a movie that often feels like a Rubens painting come to life more than a narrative.
"Immortals" tells of another kind of Greek tragedy than the one playing out in the newspapers right now. What it lacks in cohesive storytelling it makes up in beauty. But one can't help but wonder -- if Greece has fortune telling oracles why didn't they warn us about the debt crisis?
"Melancholia"
Richard's Review: 4 stars
Near the end of "Melancholia," the latest film from professional crank Lars Von Trier, his star Kristen Dunst wonders aloud if anyone would grieve if the world was gone. It's the great existential question in a film which may be the most audience-friendly study of depression ever.
Von Trier breaks the film into three portions. A montage of strange, slow-motion images and soaring symphonic music serves as a prologue. In its final image Von Trier lets us known how the story will end, establishing a tension that runs through every frame of the film.
Part one starts off happily enough with a young couple, Justine (Dunst) and Michael (Alexander Skarsgard), on the way to an opulent wedding reception at the home of Justine's sister, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg). Soon, however, it becomes apparent that all is not right. Justine's inability to feel happiness and her family's recriminations at the reception ruin the day.
Part two shifts the focus to Claire. She is obsessed with the news that a newly discovered planet called Melancholia may be making a bee-line to planet Earth. In this half, Justine takes a more passive role as Von Trier explores Claire's fixation.
The plot details are less important than the sense of gloom Von Trier builds slowly over the course of the movie's 135 minute running time. From the haunting images of the prologue to Dunst's gravely restrained performance, the film creates slow suspense. It's a disaster movie in which the end-of-the-world theatrics are secondary to the disastrous relationships on display.
Dunst has rarely been better and Von Trier's muse, Charlotte Gainsbourg, is a coiled spring of emotion. Even if they aren't believable as sisters -- they look and sound nothing alike – the strained relationship between them feels real.
They are the film's centerpieces and the best used of all the actors, although Udo Kier steals a scene or two as a testy wedding planner.
"Melancholia" is, undoubtedly, Von Trier's attempt to visualize his very public struggle with depression. It's a feel-bad movie, heavy with symbolism -- Justine literally bathes in the light of the oncoming destruction. It's also in no hurry to explain itself. But in its own claustrophobic, closed-down way "Melancholia" is a naturalistic and compelling look at people in distress.
