Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules Review

Directed by David Bowers. Cast: Zachary Gordon, Devon Bostick, Robert Capron, Rachael Harris, Steve Zahn, Peyton List, Grayson Russell, Karan Brar, Laine MacNeil, Connor Fielding, Owen Fielding. 2011 – 96 minutes Rated:  (for some mild rude humor). Reviewed by Dustin Putman, March 23, 2011.

2010's "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" was episodic and lightweight, but within its loose narrative structure was an exploration of the frustrating, frequently stressful middle school experience that rang mostly true, despite its PG rating. In "Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules," the characters from Jeff Kinney's best-selling book series are all back, a year older but not exactly wiser. Whereas its predecessor spanned the length of one school season, this spottier first sequel has no such blueprint to follow. It begins at the start of the seventh grade for underdog hero Greg Heffley (Zachary Gordon), but then meanders around from one broad, usually strained set-piece to the next until it runs out of material and just ends. There are diverting moments, to be sure, but director David Bowers (2009's "Astro Boy") and returning screenwriters Gabe Sachs and Jeff Judah simultaneously try too hard and not hard enough, going for slapstick scenes of humiliation more mean than funny and forgetting to add up to any sort of gratifying catharsis. No one really learns anything this time out—about life, or growing up—making it a faint shadow of the original.


Before Westmore Middle is even back in session, 12-year-old Greg Heffley has laid eyes on lovely new-girl-in-town Holly Hills (Peyton List) at the roller skating rink and fallen helplessly for her. Almost everyone, including Greg's vicious teenage brother Rodrick (Devon Bostick), tell him he's dreaming if he thinks he might have a chance with her, but that's not about to stop him from trying. Meanwhile, Greg's mom (Rachael Harris) has begun writing an advice column in the local paper called "Susan's Musings" and is determined for her two bickering eldest sons to finally get along. What she proposes—giving them each a dollar ("Mom bucks") for every hour they spend together in harmony—is well-meaning, but Rodrick immediately starts abusing the process while pulling the wool over his mom's eyes. As Rodrick cruelly tells Greg, "You may be my brother, but you'll never be my friend."


The chief problem with "Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules" can be found in the title. Simply put, Rodrick is an insufferable creation, an obnoxious, cruel, unamusing prick of a character who treats his family—especially Greg—with an appalling level of disrespect and doesn't appear to have a sympathetic bone in his body. He's a total oaf, using his mother for money without a tinge of affection for her and doing things to Greg that range from embarrassing to potentially criminal. Rodrick shames Greg in front of the entire congregation at church, he blackmails him with a surveillance video of Greg running around a senior center in his underwear after his diary is stolen, he locks him—and later Greg's best friend Rowley (Robert Capron)—in the basement while he throws a party, and he's never anything less than awful to him when they could be getting to know each other better. The film's eventual message about the importance of being close with your family is all but lost due to Rodrick's reigning disingenuousness. There is a half-hearted scene at the very end where Rodrick kinda-sorta thanks Greg for a selfless act he performs, but it's too little and far too late. Yes, we all get into occasional tiffs with our siblings, but there doesn't appear to be any love whatsoever in Rodrick's heart for Greg. It's a gravely wasted opportunity for a movie that had the perfect chance to really portray the unbroken bonds between brothers.


Nearly the entire cast has returned from last year's "Wimpy Kid" with the exception of Chloe Grace Moretz, who has since gone on to bigger and better things and whose character of Angie Steadman isn't even mentioned. Zachary Gordon reprises the lead role of Greg Heffley with spunk and a more learned comic handle. It is Robert Capron (2010's "The Sorcerer's Apprentice") as fiercely loyal best friend Rowley Jefferson, however, who is the scene-stealer. Lovable, earnest and reliably humorous—his lip-synching to Ke$ha's "Tik Tok" is a highlight—Capron has what it takes to grow into a truly talented actor, the kind that breezes through comedy and seems to always find the heart underneath. As Greg's mom Susan, Rachael Harris (2009's "The Hangover") gets more to do this time since the focus is on the family rather than at-school antics, though Steve Zahn (2009's "A Perfect Getaway") still hasn't gotten his moment to shine as father Frank. As Rodrick, Devon Bostick (2009's "Saw VI") does what is asked of him, but tends to go overboard. Still, it's not solely the actor's fault that Rodrick is thoroughly unpleasant to be around. Were his character kidnapped in the inevitable third film, his disappearance would come as sweet relief. New to the series is Peyton List (2011's "3 Backyards"), a sweet, unaffected presence as the subject of Greg's crush, the brilliantly-named Holly Hills.


For every sly little joke like Greg's confusion over how to use a rotary phone, "Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules" is undone by failed gags and distasteful bathroom humor, including one scene where Greg is confused for a peeping tom after elderly ladies catch him in the women's restroom. Furthermore, the story—what there is of one—is overwhelmed by situational comedy skits. When director David Bowers finally gets down to making a point about sibling relationships, it lacks emotional sincerity and gets sheepish, anyway, about adequately developing Greg and Rodrick as anything but enemies. At the conclusion of "Diary of a Wimpy Kid," the viewer sensed that Greg and Rowley had genuinely grown as people over the course of their sixth grade school year. That's not the case here. "Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules" is more concerned with tired punchlines and gross-out ploys than imparting any lasting insight.

Sucker Punch Review

Sucker Punch

 Action fantasy. Starring Emily Browning, Vanessa Hudgens, Jamie Chung and Abbie Cornish. Directed by Zack Snyder. (PG-13. 109 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.)

Though Zack Snyder is known as an action director ("300," "Watchmen"), he is a genuine artist and one of the most exciting and promising filmmakers to emerge in the past 10 years. His new movie, "Sucker Punch" - let's just say it - is a failure, but there's so much talent on that screen that the movie can't be dismissed as a waste of time. Or at least not a complete waste of time.

With other action directors, even some good ones, you get the sense of people working mechanically - that they have an idea for something they want to see and then assemble it, using actors, props and computers.

But Snyder seems to work internally and intuitively, so that no matter how overpowering the action, there is always room for unconscious inspiration, for details that make only psychological or emotional sense: A young woman has her blouse ripped by her stepfather, and Snyder pauses to show the shirt button, in slow motion, twirling to a stop on the floor.

That moment occurs in the brilliant first sequence of "Sucker Punch," a miniature silent movie in which our heroine, Baby Doll (Emily Browning), endures the death of her mother, brutalization by her stepfather and commitment to a nightmarish mental institution. All this is communicated with style and specificity and with shots that reverberate through the mind: a blue eye staring out in horror through a keyhole.

Snyder gives us a film that takes place in three worlds, or rather levels of consciousness.

In the first world, which we take to be the real world, Baby Doll has been institutionalized and must escape before she is given a lobotomy. In the second world, which might also be real, she has been sold into white slavery and lives in a brothel with other women, where she has to dance for customers. Finally, the third world is made up of Baby Doll's fantasies, the dreams of destruction, triumph and freedom that she has every time she dances.

In this way, Snyder is attempting to do something similar to what Guillermo del Toro did in "Pan's Labyrinth." In fact, he's trying to go del Toro one better: Instead of giving us two parallel worlds, he is giving us three, each commenting on the other.

Indeed, the very first time Baby Doll goes into her dance and lands in some ancient temple, fighting three armored monsters, it seems that Snyder's inventiveness and imagination are without limit. Yet, ironically, it's precisely at that point that the limits of "Sucker Punch" are defined.

This film marks the first time that Snyder has made a film from his own original story, and everything that's wrong with "Sucker Punch" - and, in the end, fatal - derives from that story.

All too soon, the movie degenerates into a formula, one in which, at certain intervals, Baby Doll dances and we, in the audience, are force-fed another action sequence - each one longer and less interesting than the last.

The story of Baby Doll's attempts at escape, the real story, is abandoned for interminable stretches.

Moreover, in a film whose approach must be justified in psychological terms, there are nagging imprecisions. Whose fantasies are these? What are the parallels, either factual or emotional, between the actions in one world and the next?

In a sense, these are the little things Snyder needed to work out meticulously, if only for the sake of letting his imagination run free within these wide constraints. Instead, we get the opposite, an imagination cramped by too unsure a grasp of what will fit and what won't.

In the end, Snyder confuses going ugly for getting serious, and he destroys his movie completely.

To talk about the acting in a film like this is pointless. The young women are decorative, images to be manipulated or sometimes just photographed lovingly, paired in front of mirrors as they talk, looking at each other, their reflections looking elsewhere. They're fine, but this is Snyder's show all the way.

I just hope he doesn't misinterpret what I expect will be the reception of "Sucker Punch" as punishment for being artistic. It's just a bad screenplay. Not everyone has to be a writer. To be a first-class director is rare enough.

Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2011/03/24/DDDL1IIRNT.DTL#ixzz1He9ONVIA

The Fifth Quarter

“The Fifth Quarter” is a modestly effective and sometimes quite moving film of the death that inspired the 2006 Wake Forest University football team to win the Atlantic Coast Conference title. A generic sports drama, it scores points for being that rare “faith based film” to show a little edge.

Ryan Merriman stars as Jon Abbate, a talented linebacker for the always-overmatched Demon Deacons football team. When his younger brother Luke (Stefan Guy) is killed in a reckless driving accident, Jon and his parents (Aidan Quinn, very good, and Andie MacDowell) struggle to cope with the shock and the grief. Writer-director Rick Bieber gives us some wonderfully emotional scenes as the family agrees to let Luke be an organ donor and we see the payoff from that act of charity.

But back at school, Jon can’t cope. He goes through too many pitchers of beer and only the intervention of his girlfriend (Jillian Batherson) and best friend (Josh Smith) get him home, where a personal trainer puts him back on task. “You’ve got to start living for two. You’ve got to make your brother proud.”

Bieber intercuts footage from the games of that storied season (a 30-0 beatdown of Florida State was a highlight) and doesn’t exactly re-invent the wheel with the lock room speeches. Merriman is a muscular young man, but the film goes to great pains not to put the actor on the field.

Merriman has his best moments with the various people who pitch in to help him with his grief, from his pastor to coaches and the Wake Forest community. Jon’s anger at God about why “bad things happen to such good people” is the focus here. MacDowell and Quinn both have meltdown moments, scenes which logically have a blast of profanity and a bottle one parent crawls into.

Bieber’s best-directed scenes are group moments – a slow pan down a hospital hallway filled with worried friends, classmates, teachers and parishioners, an entire football stadium which picks up the signal Jon, wearing his brother’s number 5 jersey, holds up to his parents. Five fingers. It’s the fifth quarter. Time to suck it up and finish “our miracle season” for Luke.

“The 5^th Quarter” has corny moments and creaky scenes — a couple of tone-deaf interventions are staged in crowded restaurants. The pace is too slow and the football tends to hijack the more personal story that should be the point. But this film, like the upcoming “Soul Surfer,” shows that “faith-based” films don’t have to be so sanitized or preachy that they lack relevance. If it were a football team, you’d say the kids played beyond halftime, but ran out of gas in the third quarter.

See for Yourself

“The Fifth Quarter”

MPAA rating: PG-13 for some thematic elements.

Cast: Ryan Merriman (Jon Abbate), Aidan Quinn (Steve Abate), Andie MacDowell (Maryanne Abbate), Jillian Batherson (Hailey Scott)

Credits: Written, directed and produced by Rick Bieber. A Rocky Mountain Pictures release. Running time: 1:38.

Elektra Luxx Review

In the grand tradition of "Critters 4" and "Hellraiser 7" comes "Elektra Luxx," a sequel to a motion picture few actually saw. It's a ballsy move, but writer/director Sebastian Gutierrez doesn't seem fazed by the challenge, again assembling a crisscrossing tale of Los Angeles love in ruins, surveying the urges and woes of those permanently stuck inside their own heads. It's an overly talky and scattered feature, but so was 2009's "Women in Trouble," leaving any true appreciation of Gutierrez's latest effort to those who've already sample the previous film.

Now retired, porn queen Elektra Luxx (Carla Gugino) has decided to concentrate on her unplanned pregnancy, teaching sexology classes to eager women as a way to pay the bills. Unsure of how to process her mistakes and life choices, Luxx remains in a state of worry, looking for someone to trust after years spent distancing herself from the world. On the other side of town, Holly Rocket (Adrianne Palicki) is facing deep feelings for prostitute pal Bambi (Emmanuelle Chriqui), looking for her opportunity to confess her desires. Also spinning around this world is porn blogger Bert (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), who attempts to trace Luxx's rise and fall, and Cora (Marley Shelton), whose adulterous guilt over Luxx's dead rock star boyfriend is threatening to drive her mad.

"Women in Trouble" represented Gutierrez's move into a more cerebral state of creativity after his previous picture, the rancid "Rise: Blood Hunter," died a righteous box office death. Switching focus, the filmmaker elected to feast on Altman and Allen leftovers, orchestrating chatty vignettes featuring an assortment of wounded women facing crisis from all sides. If you didn't happen to see "Women in Trouble," you're in the majority, making "Elektra Luxx" a real curiosity. After all, to make sense out of the feature requires knowledge of the previous film, and to have seen the previous movie will likely discourage a viewing of the sequel. Still, I have to admire Gutierrez's tenacity to revive his monologuing world of woe, even when it's clear there's no audience for it.
If "Trouble" was about confession, "Luxx" takes on seduction, again wading into the waters of neuroses with a gaggle of ladies, each with their own secret to keep, only for this picture there's definitely more sharing involved. Newly structured, with the camera stylings of Bert acting as connective tissue, "Luxx" looks to solidify Gutierrez's approach, taking larger narrative bites, chewing on the persuasion and worry longer to make a more substantial impression. The performances are competent in that respect, able to communicate the proper frustrations and irritations, but the bottom line remains: Who cares?

"Luxx" feels even more like a writing exercise for the filmmaker than "Trouble" did, again soaking up random pathos, often undercut by diluted flashes of cleverness and the film's fumbled efforts at sensuality. The stories rarely provide an emotional or spiritual jolt, often staggering around without a fine point. If "Trouble" come across constipated, "Luxx" feels unnecessary, throwing in a musical number and a few star cameos to wake up a dead concept. I applaud Gutierrez's determination, but the world of a retired porn star without the profound sensation of sin keeps the picture inert -- a second feature merely reinforces the feeling that the filmmaker is beating a dead horse.

Obviously, Gutierrez is crazy about Gugino, his real-life girlfriend ("Luxx" being their sixth collaboration), with much of the picture devoted to showcasing the actress's range and innate sexuality. Too bad there's little else here to appreciate, with the ending's promise of a third installment making the whole enterprise seem like an elaborate prank.

Black Death Review

Plot
With the bubonic plague ravaging medieval England, rookie monk Osmund (Eddie Redmayne) joins a ragtag group of Satanist-hunting mercenaries to investigate an isolated community which is suspiciously bubo-free.

Review
Given that fear of religious fundamentalism and flu pandemics are among the most popular manifestations of modern paranoia, Chris ‘Severance’ Smith’s Black Death boasts some degree of topicality. And, with the likes of The Name Of The Rose, The Navigator, Witchfinder General and The Wicker Man as almost certain influences, it’s also ripe with grimey promise. Yet, despite a promising men-on-a-medieval-mission set up, its themes and inspirations never coalesce.

A key problem is the absence of a decent protagonist. As the faith-questioning monk, Eddie Redmayne is little more than a lip-wobbling wet fish; as the dark-intentioned, Godfearing mercenary sent to investigate a suspiciously plague-free village, Sean Bean fails to rise about dour scowls. Motivations are murky, but not in a good way: are we supposed to sympathise with the villagers, whose 14th-century Summerisle-lite community does (of course) harbour a dark secret? Sadly, come the surprisingly restrained torture scenes and badly executed twists, you’ll struggle to care.

Verdict
An encouraging set-up soon descends into a grubby muddle, leaving you wishing you were just rewatching The Name Of The Rose instead.

Red Riding Hood Review

For a movie about a bloodthirsty werewolf slashing up a tiny medieval village, "Red Riding Hood" sure is pretty.

First on the list of pretty things is the heroine, a gal named Valerie (Amanda Seyfried) in a flowing red cape. Next is Peter (Shiloh Fernandez), the woodcutter she adores, who curls his lip into the prettiest of sneers. Also pretty is Henry (Max Irons), the tousled smith who loves her unrequitedly. Her mother (Virginia Madsen) is pretty. Her grandmother is pretty; she's Julie Christie, so she doesn't have much choice. Even her father (Billy Burke) is pretty, at least when he isn't drunk on mead.

The mountains are pretty. The whorls of fake snow are pretty. The dappled storybook ambience and musky scent of adolescent horniness are pretty, especially when Peter and Valerie snog by firelight on the soft hay in the granary.

The only thing that isn't pretty is the wolf, a mangy black thing with yellow eyes and a weird ability to mind-speak with Little Red. No one calls her that, but that's who she is - the titular lass who skips through the forest to Grandma's house in her hand-crafted hooded outerwear, meeting the wolf en route.

Catherine Hardwicke's prettified movie is a strange adaptation because it supplants the woodsy horror of the original fairy tale with two new elements: a romantic triangle and a witch hunt. Its best moments occur after Gary Oldman shows up as a werewolf hunter in a purple velvet cassock, bringing a welcome jolt of hammy intensity to an otherwise humdrum mystery about who the wolf really is.

Hardwicke started out as a tough-talking chronicler of girls ("Thirteen"), but she's been softening the focus for a few years now; her last effort was "Twilight," another pretty teen triangle with fangs. She and "Orphan" screenwriter David Johnson are clearly aiming to de-victimize their heroine, but they've gutted all the terror from the story. If the Big Bad Wolf isn't central to the plot, what's it doing there? Ultimately, "Red Riding Hood" is just another movie about a girl pining for a boy, defined by a boy, held back by a boy. And that's not pretty.

-- Advisory: Violence and creature terror, and some sensuality.

Mars Needs Moms! Review

As maternal chores go, the new 3-D animated comedy Mars Needs Momsbeats ransacking the closet for lost hockey pads at 6 in the morning. Or riding herd on math homework. Still, moviegoing moms could have hoped for more screen time from a family movie that pretends to be about them.

But the disappointing news (for moms anyway) is that while Mars might need mothers, Mars Needs Moms is most often without a sympathetic female caregiver in sight.

The message here, clearly, is that moms and family fun, like broccoli and popcorn, just don’t mix.

The latest from Disney begins with nine-year-old Milo arguing with his mother about finishing his vegetables. Mom loses patience; Milo, his temper. “I wish my mother wasn’t around,” the boy hisses. Even as extraterrestrials cram Mom into a spaceship destined for the fourth planet from the sun.

There, she’ll spend most of the movie hidden, perhaps trying to scrub the crimson stain out of the Red Planet.

Milo chases after Mom, nabbing a ride on the spaceship. Eventually, the little guy lands on Mars, chilling with Jar-Jar Binks types in a spreading trash heap before befriending a chubby, middle-aged Earthling. Gribble came to Mars 25 years ago in search of his mom, but stayed for the cable. (The planet is just getting eighties Earth TV and movie series. And Gribble has a serious Top Gun jones.)

Milo and Gribble soon go up against goose-stepping clone warriors, and inevitably escape by taking advantage of the elaborate Martian tunnel system, in the process enjoying an endless variety of thrill rides.

No homework. No broccoli. No gravity. Milo is having the adventure of his life.

And moms, here’s another kick in the skirt: When Milo bumps into someone who might know where his mother is, he goes into a pantomime explaining what it is moms do: He pretends to vacuum.

Oh, it gets worse. Mars needs moms because Martians are hatched. Spring alive like popped kernels of corn. They have no discipline. Every few decades, executive headhunters land on Earth looking for a frowning housewife with a drill instructor’s talent for barking orders.

The mother is then downloaded into fussing nannybots.

Mars itself is run by mean Martian Amazons.

Happy Women’s Week to moms everywhere, from Disney!

Even though Mars Needs Moms isn’t female-friendly, mothers looking for quality time with 6- to 12-year-old boys could do worse than book group passage there soon.

The jokes and 3-D jack-in-the-box surprises are crudely inventive. Loud and proud the way boys like them. And the film’s Star Wars fetish – cute computer pets, retro-futurist architecture – will surely stir the soul of Lucas Youth.

Mars Needs Moms also takes full advantage of the Red Planet’s crazy-thin atmosphere. Little boys watching Milo can imagine themselves springing about as if they’re in an NBA slam-dunk competition.

A warning though: The animation here is secured by performance-capture technique, where actors’ movements are digitally recorded. (The same method was used in Polar Express.) We can see the performers, Seth Green (Milo) and Joan Cusack (his mom), trapped like Madame Tussaud waxworks inside their characters.

It’s amazing to see, but potentially unsettling. Green is now 37. And it may be more than some mothers can take, imagining themselves cleaning up after their “little boy” when he’s crowding 40.

Mars Needs Moms

• Directed by Simon Wells
• Written by Simon Wells and Wendy Wells
• Featuring the voices of Seth Green, Dan Fogler, Joan Cusack, Elisabeth Harnois and Mindy Sterling
• Classification: PG

Battle: Los Angeles Review

Battle: Los Angeles is a standard-issue combat film with a twist: The enemy is a hater from another planet. Camouflaged as meteor showers, armored aliens invade Earth to suck dry its natural resources.

Who you gonna call? The Marines, of course.

The filmmakers strictly observe the movie law that just as he's mothballing his uniform, a short-timer gets redeployed.

On the very day that he completes the paperwork for retirement, Staff Sgt. Michael Nantz (Aaron Eckhardt), still mourning the loss of men in Afghanistan, is in a platoon helicoptered into the City of Angels to reclaim Santa Monica from interplanetary devils attacking port cities around the globe.

His unit is peopled by the usual prospects. There's the corporal (Ne-Yo) about to get married, the private (Noel Fisher) who's never been in a battle or with a woman, and the second lieutenant (Ramon Rodriguez) untested in combat and an expectant father. Naturally, one of the men in the platoon (Cory Hardrict) is the brother of one of the leathernecks that Nantz lost.

Thus, Nantz has to battle the aliens while fighting for the platoon's respect and coaching the second lieutenant.

The mission seems as simple as a video-game objective: Rescue civilians stranded at a police station and bring them back to base before the U.S. bombs Santa Monica to sweep the coast of these seemingly invincible invaders.

(If the geography looks not at all like Los Angeles, that's because director Jonathan Liebesman shot it in Louisiana.)

But the enemy is much cannier about disabling Earth's weapons than vice versa.

As a narrative, the cartoonish Battle: Los Angeles makes the cartoonish Independence Day look as nuanced as Saving Private Ryan. It works as a film diversion because of Eckhardt's unwaveringly earnest and resolute performance. Her fans (I am one) will cheer the presence of Michelle Rodriguez, perhaps the only Hollywood actress who looks plausible in military uniform.

It is a little too slippery to work as an allegory. Are we to take it that the aliens represent earthlings who colonize the Middle East and Africa in order to make off with the regions' natural resources? That this is a cautionary tale about any people who would wage war in order to win the spoils of oil and water? Your guess is as good as mine.

Red State Review

Like most humans, I like to classify and label things, and Red State is one of those films where the term “genre-bending” is appropriate. While the film starts out in teen horror tale territory, it gear shifts its tone in so many different directions it’s near impossible to pin down or categorize in any other way. Hell, I can’t even fall back on “Kevin Smith movie” on this one (even though it is, technically; what that label meant in the past is not what it means here). So, yeah, “genre-bending” will have to suffice, label-wise.

The set-up for Red State is simple: three teenage boys (Michael Angarano, Nicholas Braun and Kyle Gallner) let their hormones get the better of their judgment when they answer a Craigslist-style listing of a woman (Melissa Leo) in the surrounding area open to being the three-hole hub for the boys’ penises. The boys head out to meet the woman at her trailer in the woods, wind up getting drugged and wake up prisoners in the church compound of one Abin Cooper (Michael Parks), a pastor with a small, but dedicated, congregation bent on spreading their message of God’s hate for sinners, specifically homosexuals. Things turn ugly when it becomes clear that the message is not just idle proselytizing, and the church has decided upon a more pro-active form of dealing with sinners.

Michael Parks’ Abin Cooper is as charismatic as he is evil, and his portrayal easily finds itself near the top of the list of the most memorable Michael Parks’ characters. While his words and deeds are reprehensible, he still commands your attention; very little of what he says is all that nice, but I kept listening. Melissa Leo turns in another strong performance, simultaneously playing haggard, unhinged and religiously devout quite well, and John Goodman, making his appearance about halfway through the film as an ATF agent monitoring the church’s activities, delivers the thunder of a man asked to do a job he doesn’t agree with, but is damned regardless.

While Red State eventually finds itself in action movie territory, and the violence goes from isolated incidents to full-on, raze the earth brutality, it never winds up desensitizing. If anything, the violence is so matter-of-fact and sudden that every injury or violent act resonates, even in the rare instance when you can predict what’s coming. Anything is game; people die when you least expect it, and in shocking fashion, but it’s never glamorized. It’s straight-forward and it just happens, which makes it all the more disturbing.

It’s challenging to discuss the film outside of the context of its director, mainly because it is such a huge departure from what people may think or expect from a Kevin Smith film that it’s notable to consider. Sure, there are moments here and there that remind you that, “hey, Kevin Smith wrote this,” but, for the most part, the film is like nothing he’s ever written or filmed in the past. On an action or philosophical scale, Dogma comes closest, but even that doesn’t come close at all. Red State is a bleak trip through a dark world, complete with ultra-violence and uncertainty. As the film rolls along, so many things happen, in such a matter-of-fact manner, that I could’ve and would’ve believed anything the film threw at me. I mean, when your guesses and preconceived notions get tossed around as much as they do in Red State, it slowly sinks in that everything you thought you knew about films like this isn’t going to apply here. By the time the film’s climax rolled around, I was expecting any and everything… so of course Smith went to the one scenario I didn’t imagine at all.

Visually, the film is gorgeous, considering how dark and gritty the tone and look. The film pulls off an unsettling Devil’s Rejects visual palette that winds up being better looking than Zombie’s endeavor while still being ugly, dusty and faded. There’s something claustrophobic about the film’s main location, and I’m not talking the basement corridors of Abin Cooper’s church compound, but this general feeling like the film takes place on another planet. A very dirty one, filled with self righteous, morally bankrupt denizens, dressed in the armor of God’s hatred and armed to the teeth.

This is not a cheerful film, and you likely won’t leave the theater feeling all that happy about the world. Not so much because of the actions in the film or the fates of any of the characters (everyone, at some point, does something questionable that you can’t get 100% behind, so it’s less about following and rooting for a hero than it is about getting sucked into the world of the film), but because what happens in the film is not without precedent on a day-to-day basis. Sure, real life isn’t filmed quite so nicely (again, Red State looks gorgeous for a gritty film), but it’s not inconceivable that the film’s events could actually happen while we watch it all unfold on CNN, or read about it in our Twitter feed.

Take Me Home Tonight Review

Okay, here’s a rule a thumb. If you title your movie after a Top-40 pop hit from the decade that gave us Swatches, leg warmers and women the freedom to look like football linebackers with shoulder pad tops, the least you could do is include the song somewhere in the movie. Eddie Money’s “Take Me Home Tonight” was a song with such soul-stirring lyrics as “I can feel your heartbeat faster, faster, faster,” and “I don’t want to let you go till you see the light.” Powerful stuff. And those lyrics actually fit within the context of the movie that shares its song title. Yet the song is missing from the soundtrack, which includes everything from Wang Chung to N.W.A. That’s what happens when you have a film on the shelf for four years and a studio (Universal) that didn’t know how to market the comedy.

Topher Grace is in a rut. He’s lived through the ‘70s, literally (by two years) and fictionally (on That ‘70s Show) and is now stuck in an ‘80s time warp with neither a DeLorean nor a case of Plutonium. His character, Matt Franklin, is smart. Like, you know, really smart. MIT graduate smart. Yet he works at Suncoast Video in a hole-in-the-wall shop at the mall, where customers can browse the latest video releases while Harry and the Hendersons plays in the background.

Directionless, Matt’s one big regret is “The Fredricking,” as in Tori Fredricking (Teresa Palmer), his high school crush, and never making a move. Lucky for him she’s back in town, even though she was supposed to be in Europe all summer. How he came to know this information it is never explained. It could be as simple as hearing it from a friend of a friend, or it may be something creepy, involving a spying midget, a pair of binoculars and a Walkie-Talkie.

So now Matt has one night to make it right with Tori. If this sounds like Take Me Home Tonight will borrow from the “one wild night to change your miserable life” motif playbook, then you get where this is going.  It worked for License to Drive twenty-plus years ago so why not now? Probably because that movie was made in 1988 versus now having a movie set in the same time period.

Take Me Home Tonight is okay if you are seeking ‘80s nostalgia, but if that were the case you would be better off watching some comedies made in the time period it is observing. Trying to recreate the ‘80s for audiences today just doesn’t have the same effect.

But it’s also hard to dislike the movie. The characters are sincere. And it is this sincerity that is it’s greatest strength. Matt is blessed with a superior intellect when it comes to numbers. He’s like Rain Man as one character observes. (It should be noted that while the story is set Labor Day weekend 1988, Rain Man didn’t arrive in theaters until December 1988.)

Even with a strong brain he can’t explain to his parents, especially to his father (Michael Biehn), an LAPD officer who spent a quarter of his life savings on tuition for a wasted degree, why he doesn’t want an engineering job or if he even likes working at Suncoast.

When Tori meets Matt at Suncoast – after he dashes out the back, ditches his nametag, tucks in his shirt, and enters from the front of the store – as she browses the comedies while he picks up a Sweatin’ to the OldiesVHS, she asks if he’s going to a certain party this weekend.

Matt’s wingman for the evening is his best friend Barry (Dan Fogler). Barry is like a pudgy Curtis Armstrong, sharing his sex-obsessed crude personality, but not a catchy nickname. Also along for the ride is Matt’s twin sister, Wendy (Anna Faris), a whiz at English who recently applied for graduate school at Cambridge but is too afraid of the implications with how her boyfriend (Parks and Recreation’s Chris Pratt) will respond if the university accepts her.

Each character has a different set of circumstances that make their individual arcs unique, and because they were influenced by reckless means their pathos is communal. Matt’s one little white lie to Tori at the video store has a snowball effect. It causes Barry to steal a nice car from the dealership he was formerly employed – it’s no 1961 Ferrari 250 GT (Ferris Bueller’s Day Off) or Porsche 911 Turbo (Sixteen Candles), but enough to attract chicks. The thievery leads to the discovery of cocaine in the glove box and later drug-fueled shenanigans, while Matt makes his “move” on Tori.

Take Me Home Tonight isn’t devoid of jokes. Fogler does the most work of any other cast member to make it happen, though. Since the screenwriters weren’t kind enough to give him a nickname we’ll just call him “Mr. Pratfall.” He makes a small plastic baggie of coke last most of the night doing multiple snorts. He has a dance-off with a guy who could have been an extra in Breakin’. And he does a disturbing ménage a trois with a topless Angie Everhart and her “friend” who likes to watch.

As someone who claims the ‘80s as his decade, having been born in 1981 and lived through all the different fads (hyper color T-shirts, parachute pants, among others), I understand why certain filmmakers would want to pay homage to the movies of ‘80s. Unfortunately for those behind Take Me Home Tonight, there are far too many ‘80s comedies that are superior and worth “taking home tonight” instead.

The Adjustment Bureau Review

The Adjustment Bureau is being billed as an Inception-style thriller. It’s not. Unlike Christopher Nolan’s mind-bending action spectacular, The Adjustment Bureau is a much more subtle film, augmenting a relatively straightforward plot with strong performances and just enough science-fiction fluff to get the audience thinking.
Thinking about what? Why, only one of the most important questions of all: The question of free will.



David Norris (Matt Damon, playing the affable regular guy persona he’s been perfecting sinceGood Will Hunting) is a rising politician in New York. He’s young but popular with voters, appealing to a wide range of demographics thanks to his unique Brooklyn upbringing. Emily Blunt plays Elise Sellas, a beautiful and impetuous dancer.
In a delightful “Meet Cute,” the pair hit it off right away and Elise’s spontaneity rubs off on David. I find it hard to believe in “love at first sight,” even in the movies, but Damon and Blunt make a wonderful pair and really play off each other well. From the moment they meet, you really do want them to be together.
Unfortunately, Fate has other plans in mind (and I use Fate with a capital “F” for a reason). In one of the first chase scenes in the film, David runs up against the men from the “Adjustment Bureau,” a strange, bureaucratic-seeming bunch of sharply dressed men who can control just about anything with the flick of a finger. They inform him, about as nicely as they can, that he can’t see Elise again, and that he probably shouldn’t tell anybody about the Adjustment Bureau either.
Naturally, David isn’t content to give up on the woman of his dreams just because of a few men in hats (the three primary adjusters are played wonderfully by John Slattery, Anthony Mackie, and Terence Stamp) and so the movie goes. I won’t say much more beyond that, though I will say that the banter between David and the adjusters provides some of the best moments in the movie.



II made a point at the beginning of the review to note that, despite its marketing, The Adjustment Bureau is not like Inception. I should also say that that’s not a bad thing. The Adjustment Bureau is a sci-fi film, but it’s what you might call a “light” sci-fi film. While the film raises important questions about predestination and free will, it doesn’t force the viewer into pondering philosophical or theological quandaries so complex that they lose hold of the narrative.
The ultimate role of the Adjustment Bureau is hinted at, and it’s fairly clear whom the adjusters are supposed to be, but the movie is never really about them, nor should it be.The Adjustment Bureau, with its literal “agents of fate,” is a plot device for a film focused not on destiny, but on love.
Come to think of it, The Adjustment Bureau is the perfect date movie, because, underneath it all, it’s a heartwarming romance more than anything else. Some may find that fact unappealing, but the romantic in me enjoys it. Is there a better character goal than true love?



Bottom line, The Adjustment Bureau offers an appealing story, solid acting, and more than competent direction from first-timer George Nolfi (Nolfi previously wrote Ocean’s Twelve andThe Bourne Ultimatum). The action sequences are sparse but effective, and Nolfi uses New York City as a wonderful backdrop for the movie. All in all, The Adjustment Bureau is a very enjoyable film that works extremely well on one level, and hints at an even more intriguing level just beyond the surface.
If you choose to follow up on the philosophical questions posed by this film, I suggest starting with John Calvin. But if you’re content to enjoy the film as it is, 100 minutes of quality action, humor, and romance, that’s great too.
For the record, you can count me among the latter. If I want to spend time scratching my head and wondering “what it’s all about?” I’d rather go lay under the stars. Of course, I do watch movies to be intellectually stimulated, but mostly I watch to be entertained. With The Adjustment Bureau, I got a little bit of the former, and a whole lot of the latter.

Rango Review

They call him Rango...

From the "Gecko" I was intrigued by the film. Recent animation films (with the exception of "How to train your dragon", of course) have been either sequels or something we've already seen more than once. "Rango", however, had a new style to it that I found to be brilliant. Normally, children wouldn't be interested in something in the Western genre, but, the film creates a space that might just catch a child's eye. That's in the trailers though. In reality, "Rango" is actually something I'd say anyone but the kiddies will enjoy. It's more serious than it is comical and it doesn't contain the light adventure kids normally find heavy adventure out of. While this is one wild adventure for our main hero, I feel as if the moral of the film is something only adults will get something out of. Getting away from the main point, the film is very enjoyable, and though I only found very few flaws, in the end this is a very successful animation in my eyes.

Eight years ago, Gore Verbinski and Johnny Depp took a dead genre (Pirates) and made it something that is now a instant-classic, "Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl", of course its sequels. Creating such a fantastic piece filled with action, humor, and incredible adventure that audiences never really saw coming, its no surprise with what they create here in "Rango". This time taking the Western-genre, which isn't completely dead (but something we hardly ever see anymore) and reinvent it with a new twist: creature animation. Instead of having cowboys and Indians, the movie replaces the usual with creatures in the mix, making it very satisfying for the kids, and even fans of the Western genre. Gore Verbineski does a fantastic job visually setting up "Rango". The animation on the film is astonishing and some of the best I've seen in recent years. But, while I found the animation and look on the film to be fascinating, I felt as if some of the creatures may have been a bit much for the kids to look at. The film is produced by Nickelodeon, and that obviously attracts a child's mind and even a parent's but I feel as if this film is supposed to be aimed at a older audience. Some of the creatures in the film (especially Rattlesnake Jake) might be a bit too scary for the kids, especially seeing the film in a dark theatre. Not just the look of the character, but, the gritty outlaw-ish character development behind Rattlesnake Jake, as well.

In every film there's a hero. In every Western, there's a cowboy. In "Rango", we have Rango. While in the beginning it's not even his name, he's just a pet lizard in a bad situation that leads him straight to the desert, all alone. With a heart of gold and the imagination of a child, Rango's enthusiasm brings out the light in this film and makes our main-hero very likeable. Being very lonely his whole life, he finds his chance at the best of life in Dirt, a small town deep in the desert. Creating a fabric of being an old westerner and a killer of six outlaw brothers, Rango quickly escalates into becoming the Sheriff of the town after killing a deadly eagle keeping prey on it by the chance of luck. Being the new Sheriff isn't easy, however, as Rango learns of Rattlesnake Jake and how no Sheriff lasts long in Dirt. But, with each challenge Rango faces he becomes more and more of what lie he created. The biggest problem to Dirt, however, is its struggling to find it's water supply. I thought the whole plot on water was brilliant, but again, it probably isn't something kids would find amusement out of. Adults, however, well, that's a different story. Rango finds friends in Beans, a lady-rancher who is a great role-model for women viewers on the film fighting her every view and doing whatever she can to find water for the town. He also makes enemies in the Mayor and the film's big villian Rattlesnake Jake. The film manages to confuse me in two different areas though. 1) The movie clearly takes place in present time. There is existence of humans, as seen in the beginning, and there are major cities (as seen in one scene). If there are humans, how are the animals living in a town their size (?) and how do they have guns their size as well? If humans exist then guns wouldn't be made for the little creatures and a small town their size (built by whom?) wouldn't make much sense either? I think the film would've flowed much easier if humans didn't exist because it really boggled those questions in my head after seeing the movie. 2) (Tiny Spoiler) Where Rango and Rattlesnake Jake actually brothers? When Rango mentioned that he was his brother in one scene I thought it was just another lie to tense the townspeople, and then when Rattlesnake Jake came to town to scare off Rango he called him his brother. The film never actually clears it up to whether the two are brothers or not, they didn't seem to have the brother feel so I don't think they were, but, it was something that confused me just a tad. Anyways, overall, the storyline for "Rango" is very fresh and creative. I've never seen an animated feature-film quite like it so it's definitely worth the dollar just for that. It's not something that has been repeated over the course of time over and over, so, no worry there.

The script for the film, written by John Logan, is very mature for it's kind. Thinking it'll be aimed for the kides, the script's maturity is actually something teens and adults will get something out of. The strong moral on what a hero is similar to the one from "How to train your dragon", but, "Rango" presents it with a whole new approach. I thought the dialog in the film was pretty heavy and interesting through-out, and overall, I thought Logan's work was fantastic. I would've liked a few things to be cleared up a little better, but, his script flows very nicely indeed.

Johnny Depp hides behind the face of Rango, doing a great job bringing the life and enthusiasm to the character it deserves. Johnny Depp's face is no stranger to audiences, and neither is his face. It's very recognizable and without seeing advertisements or posters for the film and just watching the film, it's instant that you know who's voicing the character. I thought Depp was great as Rango and I couldn't of imagined another actor of adventure to bring it to the screen like he did. Isla Fisher, who I didn't know was even voice-acting in the film until after I saw it, voices Beans. Fisher does a great job hiding her voice adding in on a western accent. I thought the voice was done well, and if she was able to hide herself away like that, clearly, it was good then. Abigail Breslin, who has a few lines here and there, voices Priscilla, a little girl-creature in the town who has pretty good chemistry with Rango in their couple of scenes. Bill Nighy brings terror to his character voicing Rattlesnake Jake, giving the character a very deep, scary vocal that creates a little bit of tense. Other hidden stars like Timothy Olyphant and Alfred Molina give away their voices for little roles. As for the work on the voice-acting in the film, it was used to the extent: energy and life.

All and all, beautifully made, "Rango" takes an old dish and serves it with new creativity that might just be more fun for the adults than the kids. A little confusing at times, I feel like the adventure of the film is high and it never slows down from the beginning. It's much more original than other animated films in the past, and it will make fans of the Western genre happy. I'm glad to say that it was worth my dollar, and I loved the Clint Eastwood figure cowboy from one scene. Lets just say that being a huge fan of the Western genre, I'm glad that "Rango" can be a film happily added into it, having the same thrills any other would. It's moral on what a hero is fantastic and might just give it's audience huge inspiration. Overall, it's a real delight to look at it and witness.

-Thanks for the read!

-Screeny

Overall Quality: B- Great.