Revolutionary Road screwed at the Oscars? Not so fast...

(2008, 119 min) Revolutionary Road is, above all else, an exquisite example of that tired old adage: great books make bad films. Actually, a more accurate twist of the phrase, in this case, would be: great books make disappointing films. Not that they lacked effort but Sam Mendes and Kate Winslet have reduced a beautifully written, psychologically revealing tale of the two-headed dragon of lost romantic youth and the hopeless spiral into conformity into a histrionic and ultimately shallow acting exercise.

One is often remimded, when viewing this adaptation, of a one act play put on by Method-trained high school students who yell all their lines in a vain attempt to project the psychological complexities of their characters. Winslet, the driving force behind this adaptation, acquits herself the most. She has moments when April Wheeler's damaged psyche actually bubbles to the surface and punches the audience in the gut. But, too often, her scenes with co-star Leonardo DiCaprio feel like a toe-to-toe acting bout, one in which DiCaprio is getting bounced all over the ring. Aside from the film's inability to even scratch the novel's depths of character insight, DiCaprio's performance is the most disappointing thing about the film. Having re-established his acting chops with exceptional performances in The Departed and Blood Diamond, he thoroughly regresses, making his Frank Wheeler into a callous mook who never demonstrates just what it was that made everyone think he was so special. He screams nearly all of his lines and affects an accent more suitable to a suporting player on "The Sopranos" than the once-Byronesque, disaffected salaryman that Yates detailed so beautifully.

Not everything about Revolutionary Road is a disaster. Roger Deakins' cinematography is lushly lit and perfectly composed (and exactly what one would expect from award-bait) and Tariq Anwar's editing occasionally takes a stab at quietly making points... at least, that is, when the actors stop shouting at each other for long enough for a subtle, poignant cut to register. Thomas Newman's music, however, is an embarrassment to film composers everywhere. It's as if he and Mendes got together to discuss whether the score should emphasize the action on-screen or run in counterpoint to it, but never came to a decision. Frankly, the score could've been lifted from any pathetic attempt by an indie arm of a major studio to grab a few golden trophies made in the last ten years.

Perhaps the saddest effect of this production is that those who haven't read the novel will be left with the work as a shallow, melodramatic and, above all else, clichéd tale of an unhappy couple in the midst of a tragic spiral. Those who see this film and leave the novel on the shelf, or worse, try to read the novel but can't escape the visions of DiCaprio and Winslet desperately screaming at each other will be cheated out of the experience of enjoying one of the twentieth century's greatest novels.

– Daniel Reed

© TLA Entertainment Group

Then She Found Me

(2007, 100 min) Helen Hunt's feature directorial debut comes dressed in distinctively indie trappings. The cinematography is intentionally drab and action, at least in the beginning, tends to happen off-screen. It is in these opening moments that play out somewhat theatrically that the film finds its strength. But once all of the setup info is established, the film begins to slip into shapelessness and, worse, sentimentality.

Hunt's Hollywood-seasoned cast makes a valiant attempt to play down the caricatures that they've earned their livings playing up. Matthew Broderick's self-centered manchild lacks the smirking and mugging that he generally lends to similar characters. Colin Firth removes approximately one layer of restraint and adds one layer each of jealousy and rage to his Mark Darcy character from the Bridget Jones series. Bette Midler, while the most expressive character in the film, dulls her brass ever so slightly. Finally, Hunt shows up as the life-scarred, beaten-down type that she's made a career out of playing since As Good As It Gets but removes any semblance of pluck or humor. All of these acting tweaks and character modifications are designed to distinguish the film from the typical sunny romantic comedy that is so fearful of becoming. But, in reality, only two elements successfully separate it. One, at its core, the story centers more around Hunt's desire for a baby and, two, it is not remotely funny. In fact, there may be only one moment in the entire film which will cause viewers to even crack a smile.

Hunt is clearly attempting to put together a precious character study and is all restraint and no risk, but this creates a stifled atmosphere in which none of the characters are developed as well as they ought to be which leaves this film only a mood piece. A mood piece is certainly no crime against cinema, but when the mood that permeates is self-pity then viewers will certainly be excused if they want to turn away.

Even more jarring than the lack of full character development is the atrocious musical supervision. The score often resembles the background music of a self-help video and the song choices (Iron and Wine during a sex scene!) are more than a little cliché. These bad choices betray Hunt's noble attempt to keep the film sparse and render it simply maudlin.

The film is not completely unredeemable. It simply lacks any spark or commitment to its vision, but single women in their late 30s experiencing an identity crisis will most likely enjoy it.

– Daniel Reed

© TLA Entertainment Group

Man's Job

Reviewed at the 2008 Palm Springs International Film Festival

(2007, 85 min) Apparently "man's job" is to fuck everything up. Juha (Tommi Korpela) is a recently laid-off father who stumbles into a male escort job, despite being quite plain-looking. As he does his tricks, he hides it from his family, until the lies come tumbling down in heavy-handed fashion. His best friend Olli (Jani Volanen) is a taxi driver with a drinking problem, and Olli reluctantly becomes Juha's pimp. Olli is also the father of Juha's son, and still has feelings for the chronically depressed Katja (Maria Heiskanen).

All of this is conveyed in a relentlessly heavy tone, portending to have deep insight into its characters and humanity and general. But there's nothing universal here; everything is confined to a ridiculous set-up that wouldn't even pass the "Three's Company" believability test. Never mind the idea that someone as plain looking as Juha can make big money servicing female clients exclusively.

There are moments that hint at a better movie, including the outrageous situation of being paid to bathe with an obviously underaged girl with Down's Syndrome. It's enough to make you wish this film had gone farther. Instead we get the typical consequences of lying... confessions, suicide attempts; you know, fun stuff. The movie ends with a series of smug smirks by the protagonist... how apropos.

– David Gorgos

© TLA Entertainment Group

Severance

(2006, 95 min) A collection of office stereotypes from multinational munitions company Palisade Defence is on a team-building weekend in Eastern Europe. Their tour bus meets a fallen tree, blocking their progress. The driver, a local, refuses to take an alternate road leading to the same destination. So you know that the tree is no accident and bad things will happen if they take that path. But apparently none of these guys has ever seen a cheesy comedy horror slasher flick before. (Cheesy in a good way.)

They trudge through the Hungarian forest, viewing the circumstances through their own personal filters (middle-management claptrap, toadyism, drug haze, social ineptitude, nascent insanity, corporate conformity and — rarest of the rare — basic common sense). They find a building that they take as the company lodge, but uncover files that evidence its earlier uses: insane asylum, prison, Nazi torture chamber. Their internecine bickering turns to uneasy awareness of the forces around them, as they uncover some buried history about Palisade itself.

Unsurprisingly, these purveyors of sophisticated weapons of mass destruction find themselves on the receiving end of some rudimentary weapons of individual destruction. Methods of execution are varied and inventive, and there’s no shortage of blood. It’s totally derivative and hackneyed, but grudgingly redeemed by some pretty good performances, some clever ideas, some snappy editing and a total lack of pretension. If you can take the gore, Severance can be a guilty pleasure.

But I have to ask: It was a team-building weekend, right? Why didn’t they just join together and move the damned tree?

– Ann Yarabinee

© TLA Entertainment Group

Wild Hogs

(2007, 99 min) Doug (Tim Allen) is a safe and dependable dentist. Bobby (Martin Lawrence) is a henpecked, would-be author. Dudley (William H. Macy) is an IT guy and a walking definition of “nerd.” Woody (John Travolta) is in the midst of a divorce from a supermodel, and bankrupt. The four friends achieve temporary respite from their midlife crises and their nagging dissatisfactions with weekend jaunts on their motorcycles. When one of their contemporaries suddenly dies, they seize on the idea of a road trip, striking out for wild adventure while they still can. They call themselves the Wild Hogs, sew colors on their jackets, and take off. . . daringly, without GPS. They face predictable and foreseeable problems, mostly of their own making; we meet predictable and foreseeable characters, such as the overly-friendly Highway Patrolman (John C. McGinley), the knowing, heart-of-gold waitress (Marisa Tomei), and wives of varying temperament (Jill Hennessy and Tichina Arnold). The Hogs, predictably and foreseeably, run into a real motorcycle gang, the Del Fuegos, whose near-psychotic leader Jack (Ray Liotta) doesn’t take kindly to the suburban posers. When Woody, unbeknownst to his traveling companions, exacts heavy revenge against the Del Fuegos for their rude mistreatment, Jack gathers his forces and sets out to track them down. And crush them. The final showdown takes place at the Madrid (New Mexico) Chile Festival.

Despite the utter predictability and foreseeability of all the major plot points of this movie, it still manages to provide lightweight and enjoyable diversion. It’s patented Hollywood fluff, OK for family viewing, and blatantly escapist fare. Don’t expect much, and you won’t be disappointed.

Note: the actual Madrid, New Mexico, will celebrate their first annual Chile Festival all day, Saturday, July 7, 2007. As seen on TV in the movies.

– Ann Yarabinee

© TLA Entertainment Group

Eragon

(2006, 102 min) Derived from the first novel by Christopher Paolini, Peter Buchanan (Jurassic Park III) attempts to fashion a screenplay that derives from Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings."

Special-effects-supervisor-turned-director Stefen Fangmeier utilizes location photography in Hungary and Slovakia to evoke a bit of the mindscapes fashioned by Peter Jackson in New Zealand. The genre of sword, sorcery and dragons is well known to fantasy enthusiasts and gamers alike, and it must take a lot these days to inject new energy into tired formula. At times, Eragon manages to achieve a fresh look, especially with some of the medium and long range shots of the flying dragon, Saphira. Newcomer Edward Speleers plays Eragon, a farm lad who finds a dragon egg that hatches and becomes the gargantuan dragon who uses telepathy to communicate with him. He soon realizes, with the help of veteran dragon rider Brom (Jeremy Irons), that he has been chosen to find the rebel fighters known as the Varden, meant to crush the forces of evil represented by bad King Galbatorix (John Malkovich) and his right-hand henchman, Durza (Robert Carlyle). This he manages to do, but not enough time is allowed between the first flight of the dragon and rider and the final battle sequence to develop plot, primary and secondary character development and that epic feel peculiar to the fantasy film and exemplified in The Lord of the Rings.

Irons manages to turn in a respectable performance, while other major characters suffer from a lack of acting chops. Even Malkovich, who is usually riveting, seems like he is sleepwalking through his meager screen-time, while Carlyle summons a somewhat frenzied and frightening visage as a black magician. There are some good ideas here, but at 102 minutes, it all seems like a rushed and underdone affair. The cliffhanger promises that the sequel might be more exciting. Here’s hoping.

– Max Brinck

© TLA Entertainment Group

The Number 23

(2007, 95 min) Director Joel Schumacher tries his hand at the twisty psychological thriller genre to mixed results. The Number 23 pulls elements from such lackluster modern thrillers as Secret Window and Hide & Seek in order to elaborate upon a somewhat interesting gimmick involving the relevance of the number 23. From the sum of the digits in famous disasters (ex. 09-11-2001) to the number of chromosomes inherited from a parent, that pesky number seems to just pop up everywhere. It's a conspiracy theorist's playground, although the film itself admits that the lengths to which the concept is stretched are a bit much at times.

Walter Sparrow (Jim Carrey) leads an ordinary life as an animal controller until one day he is bitten by a mysterious dog who follows him throughout the film. This incident is recounted by Sparrow in a voice over that explains how it eventually led to his receiving a book entitled "The Number 23." The book concerns a detective (also Carrey, but a mean, Colin Farrell-in-Miami Vice-looking Carrey) who becomes obsessed with the number after a curse of sorts is passed on to him. Sparrow's home life begins mirroring that of the book, conspiracies are explored, and the inevitable big twist (or two) come and go without much involvement from the audience. The film's conclusion is a lengthy explanation that reveals occurrences rather than clues. Clues are required to logically lead the clever audience to the mystery's solution before the big reveal, but all this long series of flashbacks does is expose the naiveté of the scriptwriter who was obviously much too proud of his basic premise. The DVD will surely include at least a few alternate endings.

Carrey never seems truly comfortable in either of his roles, but he certainly does act his heart out. His saxophone playing tattooed detective is just plain goofy, but he carries it out to the best of his abilities with a menacing stare and a raspy voice. None of these high contrast, super saturated dime store novel scenes really work, but at least they make up the small percentage of the film that is blatant Schumacher.

It won't be remembered as one of the worst movies of the year (in fact it probably won't be remembered at all), but The Number 23 could easily have been a lot worse.

– Eric Bresler

© TLA Entertainment Group

Hannibal Rising

(2007, 117 min) Imposing and impressive Lecter Castle is nestled in the lush Lithuanian countryside near a gently rolling river. Young Hannibal and his beloved sister Mischa bask in the pampering indulgence of their doting parents. But it's 1944, and they're caught between Nazi invaders and advancing Russian troops. When the armies move on, leaving behind death and destruction, scavengers both animal and human move in. Orphaned Hannibal and Mischa find themselves at the dubious mercy of a band of marauding miscreants, their own countrymen who lent themselves out to the Germans, and will just as easily attach themselves to the upcoming Communist regime. But right now, they're trapped with the children in a small country villa. It's the dead of winter, there is no food, they're pinned down... and they're hungry.

Hannibal Rising tracks the events that created the monster: his sister is taken from him in a most atrocious act; he is forced to live in his former castle home, now an orphanage replete with images of Stalin and the requisite bullies. After eight years of silent acquiescence, he leaves to search for his uncle in France; he finds his uncle’s widow and the discipline of Asian martial arts. His entry into medical school provides the final element of his new persona, an identity forged through loss and pain and unimaginable cruelty.

This looked like it might be a credible exploration of Hannibal Lecter's character formation. The script was the first one in the film series to be written by Thomas Harris, Hannibal's creator. The story provided the raw material for either a serious exploration of evil, or a terrific exploitation of horror. The locations are arresting and evocative, the performances are credible and competent (Dominic West and, of course, Gong Li stand out), the production values outstanding. It starts out with promise and then fizzles, going all De Laurentiis on itself ("Everbody cry when Mischa die," maybe?). For all its orchestrated gore, for all its myth-making intent, the film is curiously flat and remarkably empty; not quite campy enough, not quite scary enough, not quite incisive enough. Director Webber showed his facility for impressive presentation in Girl with a Pearl Earring. It seems he needs to allow his big screen craft to maturate, and to allow the protagonists to propel the story.

– Ann Yarabinee

© TLA Entertainment Group

For Your Consideration

(2006, 86 min) Christopher Guest and company's fourth, and hopefully final, "mockumentary" outing is a harmless satire of Hollywood egos during awards season. Guest portrays the director of the fictional melodrama Home for Purim, which, as the title alludes, leads to an onslaught of lazy jabs at Hollywood’s resident Jews in a "wink wink, we're laughing with you" manner. The egos of Purim's cast members inflate after an on-set mention of internet Oscar buzz surrounding this movie-within-a-movie. Shooting continues, agents make calls and entertainment programs are skewered as Hollywood's most important beauty pageant approaches. The envelopes are opened at the film's climax where the characters and viewers anxiously await the results of what will surely be a train wreck.

Viewers can expect to see all of the usually reliable Guest stars. The good include Harry Shearer and Catherine O'Hara as Oscar hopefuls whose egos go to their heads and, in O'Hara's case, her face. A Botox gag can only elicit a certain number of laughs before it gets tired, especially during an age that has come to accept the toxic cosmetic’s existence. The film's most disappointing performances include the two highlights of Guest's Best In Show: Eugene Levy as a clueless, slimy agent and Fred Willard as the brash host of an Entertainment Tonight-type show. Both actors seem less energetic than they have in the past, their performances feel scripted, and no matter how long the viewer waits for the expected laughs, they simply never arrive. Parker Posey and the rest of the gang do their usual shtick. Notable cameos include Ricky Gervais (the British "Office") and John Krasinksi (the American "Office") whose brief roles in the film serve as unintentional reminders of how funny comedy can actually be.

For Your Consideration just doesn't feel like a Christopher Guest film. Perhaps moviegoers are too familiar with the film's environment, the success of his past films relied on their unique settings which included small-town musical theater and dog shows. The failed attempts at humor on the parts of some of Hollywood's funniest performers are inexplicable. Attempts at humorous lines are consistently followed by pauses allowing room for laughter that isn’t deserved. Maybe the script was tighter than in the past, allowing less room for improvisation. The ultimate source for the film's failure most likely lies in the tired "mockumentary" format itself, a style that Guest pushed to its limits two films ago.

– Eric Bresler

© TLA Entertainment Group

Little Miss Sunshine

(2006, 101 min) Nothing more than Meet the Fockers for elitists (or maybe Flirting with Disaster for dummies), Little Miss Sunshine is the latest overhyped, overpraised letdown to emerge from Sundance – must be the high altitude. Like a first draft of a Screenplays 101 course, there are too many one-note characters, coincidental plot twists and contrived situations to overlook, squandering some splendid performances and at least a few good laughs in the process.

When their cute but pudgy daughter Olive (Abigail Breslin) miraculously qualifies at the last minute for the big Little Miss Sunshine beauty contest, her parents (Greg Kinnear and Toni Collette) decide to throw their whole dysfunctional family into a ramshackle VW van for a harried road trip to California. Nevermind that flying the mom & the kid alone would really be cheaper, or that the suicidal gay Proustian scholar (Steve Carell) could easily stay home with the non-speaking vow-of-silence son (Paul Dano), or that heroin-snorting foul-mouthed Grandpa (Alan Arkin) would keep the raunchy nature of the kid's routine a secret, or that none of the ridiculous bunch would have no idea what beauty pageants are really like. No, it's a comedy, so these somewhat pathetic characters are forced together so that each can have their one joke, one punchline, and one moment of half-hearted character growth before the big setpiece at the end. Yawn.

This is filmmaking at its most cynical: Creating smug characters and letting them wallow in their delusions, to the delight of even smugger audiences. It's more winceworthy than funny, despite an energetic turn by Arkin (unfortunately cut off National Lampoon's Vacation-style) and a naturally precocious performance by young Miss Breslin. That this was marketed as an "indie film" is perhaps the biggest shame of all. Prepare to be disappointed.

– David Gorgos

© TLA Entertainment Group