Sony Film is attempting to establish a beach head in the computer animation space to complete against Pixar/Disney and Fox but hasn’t made a great deal of progress yet. Surf’s Up is their third major release, better than either Open Season and Monster House but still not as good as Pixar’s least effort (say A Bug’s Life).

Which is not to say Surf’s Up is a bad movie; it’s just not a terrific one. Yet another penguin story, we get a mockumentary-style look at Cody Maverick (Shia Labeouf), the next great surfing champion. Cody is toiling away unappreciated in Antarctica when a promoter’s lackey comes searching for new faces his boss (James Woods) can promote at the big tournament in Hawaii.

The promoter’s problem is that no one can dethrone Tank (Diedrich Bader, doing his best to imitate Patrick Warburton’s mean voice) who, unfortunately, is your stereotypical spoiled sports star. The third main competitor is stoner Chicken Joe (Jon Heder). Tank became champ by beating the original surf king, Big Z (Jeff Bridges)–Z died in that contest.

Or did he? When Cody gets to Hawaii he meets reporter Lani (Zooey Deschanel), Z’s niece. Cody’s board is broken in an early test against Tank so Lani takes him to Geek for a new one. Hmm. Lani and Cody of course fall in love immediately and meanwhile Geek tries to teach our boy how to grow into a good man.

Surf’s Up was directed by Ash Brannon and Chris Buck, who previously worked at Disney and Pixar, and they deliver good visual elements but the script, by Brannon, Buck, Chris Jenkins (no previous writing credits) and Don Rhymer (no animated films but credits include classics like Big Momma’s House 1 and 2, Santa Clause 2, Agent Cody Banks 2 and Deck the Halls), never rises above expectations nor does the voice work. There are some nice gags and jokes but not much originality and few places where anyone takes a risk.

recommended

There have been a number of movies in the last few years focused on people dealing with the emotional devastation of 9/11 and, for the most point, I tend to avoid them as too painful or too likely to be maudlin. Somehow, though, I had the feeling that Don Cheadle and Adam Sandler could be trusted not to make those mistakes.

Reign Over Me, the story of how a lost friend (Cheadle) helps a lost soul (Sandler) come to grips with the loss of his wife and daughters, doesn’t make those mistakes. A terrific supporting cast helps too. Jada Pinkett-Smith, Saffron Burrows, Liv Tyler, Melinda Dillon, Robert Klein, Donald Sutherland and Paula Newsome all add to the total what their roles as family and friends permit.

Particularly surprising was the understated script by writer/director Mike Binder (though not his performance as Sandler’s friend), since his previous work rarely rose above the level of dreck like The Upside of Anger, Man About Town and especially the HBO flop comedy series Mind of the Married Man. Maybe I’m trying find excuse but I think the difference with Reign Over Me is likely down to the influence of the two stars, who produced it.

Mostly I like this movie because the story is primarily about having to go on with life after tragedy rips away the ones you love most, where the events of 2001 are the origin, offscreen, and next about how giving friendship can be repaid many times over in self-awareness.

definitely recommended

When I was about 10 or 12 I started reading Allen Drury’s Cold War tales of political intrigue in Washington, D.C. He had such an imaginative way of retelling what the real life pundits and politicos tried to warn us were the true dangers of those villainous Soviets and Red Chinese.

Advise & Consent was the first and most famous of those novels, originally published in 1959 and made into a stage play before turning out this 1962 film version. Henry Fonda plays Robert Leffingwell, nominated to be Secretary of State by a (never named in the script) president, a very controversial choice, mainly because he ran afoul of a very senior southern senator several years before. Senator Seabright Cooley (played by Charles Laughton) does not like to be shown up, not hardly, and knows how to hold on to a grudge.

Leffingwell’s politics are, perhaps, a bit too liberal in what was a country barely passed the McCarthyite Era and sure enough Cooley uses a trick right out of that nasty playbook. The nomination also runs into the ambitious young senator named Van Ackerman (a very young George Grizzard) and the morality of the committee chairman, Lafe Smith (Don Murray, Smith is the junior senator from Utah so of course he’s called Brigham Anderson). Playing a Kennedyesque bachelor senator is Peter Lawford (who was the real ones’ brother-in-law) and also stuck in the middle is Walter Pidgeon as the loyal workhorse majority leader.

Directed by Otto Preminger and with a screenplay from Wendell Mayes, Advise & Consent wisely avoids explicitly stating to which party any of the politicians belong. Though if one were to suggest the majority (and all the main characters) were Democrats, I’d probably agree. Preminger made this movie at the height of his career, coming after the Sidney Poitier version of Porgy and Bess, the Jimmy Stewart thriller Anatomy of a Murder (with script also by Wendell Mayes) and Exodus, improbably starring Paul Newman in the dramatic journey of Holocaust survivors trying to get past nasty British soldiers into pre-Israel Palestine.

This film version is just okay, the novels were much better; Preminger and Mayes take the melodramatic portions of Drury’s novel and as much as possible avoid the political story. Fonda is barely seen in the first half and refuses to involve himself in the back room maneuvers surrounding his nomination. Laughton and Murray have the meatiest parts, though the few women present–mainly Gene Tierney and Inga Swenson–have juicy cameos.

moderately recommended

Nicholas Cage has starred in many big action movies over the years but given his physical and emotional natures has been a poor choice for the roles (e.g., Gone in 60 Seconds, Face/Off, Con Air). Characters that are a bit on the quirky, self-conscious side are better fits (Matchstick Men, City of Angels, The Rock). This film, which does not require him to be strong or fast or even all that smart, turns out to be a good choice.

In Next Cage plays Chris Johnson, a man made nearly miserable by having been born with the strange talent to see about two minutes into his own future. He uses this skill to be a modestly successful Las Vegas magician and win just enough money to stay under the radar of the various casino bosses.

One night, though, he catches the eye of a security manager and needs his ability to barely escape (the unstated) unpleasantness that would surely follow being caught. On his way out, however, he bumps into a man who plans to rob the casino’s cash cage and shoot two people dead; his nature won’t allow him to skate by without stopping it from happening.

Somehow–the movie never explains this important fact–Johnson has also already come to the attention of FBI counterterrorist agent Callie Ferris (Julianne Moore) and a polyglot terrorist band who’ve smuggled a nuclear device into Los Angeles. Both are tracking him, though the baddies just want him out of the way and Ferris wants his help stopping them.

The last complication is Liz Cooper (Jessica Biel). For the first time in his life Johnson has seen one thing more than two minutes in the future: he sees Liz walking into a Vegas diner. And he sees it over an over again, to the point where he goes to said diner every morning at the time of his vision, since he doesn’t know the day. Finally she shows up and he uses his ability to ensure the perfect approach. They leave together.

Just ahead of the Feds and bad guys, as it happens. He’s already fallen for her and sure enough she falls for him (he cheats, of course). Then the downside of his emotional attachment becomes clear as the bad guys take Cooper hostage to get to Johnson.

This movie doesn’t require Cage to be a fighter or a genius, just to be overly aware and able to portray a man weary beyond his years, something he can do quite well. Think about how ‘old’ Chris Johnson’s brain must be, reliving so many moments in time until they come out just as he desires; two minutes over and over again.

Lee Tamahori, a Bond veteran (Die Another Day), has a good touch with the mix of special effects and action, not always showing all his down cards. The script, by Gary Goldman (Total Recall) and Jonathon Hensleigh (Die Hard With a Vengeance, Armageddon, The Punisher), muddles a bit more than one would like but decent overall. Honestly I’m a bit surprised that Next wasn’t a bigger hit since I think it’s a better movie than a number of Cage’s which were.

recommended

This 1960 movie is one of those classics I’m willing to bet most people under the age of 60 have never watched but still feel they know all about. I admit I was one of them until the other day. Let me say upfront, I don’t really see the whole Spartacus as Christ thing, any more than I do for Neo in The Matrix trilogy; if this were so than the same would be true of the hero of nearly any straightforward epic story. But some people want to see such things anywhere they can.

Spartacus is a slave born a few decades before the aforementioned Christian savior in a north African Roman colony, where he’s spotted by gladiator trainer (Peter Ustinov, who won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar) and taken to Italy. Life is easier in Capua than in a Libyan mine but he still chafes under the rules and constraints imposed by his masters.

Then one day two leading Roman senators (Lawrence Oliver as the patrician Crassus and John Gavin as a young Juius Caesar) and their lady friends turn up at the school unexpectedly and want a show. The sniveling master is happy to oblige until the women insist the gladiators fight to the death, as is custom in Rome; he tries to convince them that doing so in the school would be a really bad idea but the arrogant women want what they want.

One shortcoming of Dalton Trumbo’s script for me is that Crassus never really understands that what he and his friends did that afternoon was the inciting incident of everything that came after, including his own downfall, the death of tens of thousands and the rise of Caesar. Even at the very end, when Crassus realizes who Spartacus is (since all the men captured with him famously stand up and say “I am Spartacus”), there’s no light of recognition.

Still, this is one of the best performances Kirk Douglas gave, Olivier is as terrific as ever, Ustinov is a very good shifty, sniveling, out for his own good Roman plebe, Jean Simmons is wonderful as Varinia, the Brittanic slave who immediately falls for Spartacus (and vice versa, to be sure), Charles Laughton punches his weight as Crassus’s populist political opponent and John Ireland a strong right arm to Douglas.

The movie was also a triumph for writer Dalton Trumbo. He was nearly destroyed by the McCarthy blacklist, the most prominent member of the Hollywood 10, and Spartacus was the first credit he got after that dark era ended. He worked for another decade after this, giving us the scripts for Exodus and Papillon before passing away in 1976.

This film was also the first really big hit directed by Stanley Kubrick, whose next four pictures were the phenomal Lolita, Doctor Strangelove, 2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange. Kubrick realized the epic scope of his story required grandiose outdoor settings but he skillfully navigated the line between tasteful and the campiness embraced by contemporaries like Cecille DeMille. He didn’t shy away from visuals that studio execs probably objected to, such as the crucifixions of the captured rebels which lined the army’s road back to Rome.

recommended

After a career mostly spent writing children’s animated dinosaur movies and writing and directing fluffy romantic pics, Michael Davis steps up and, in my book, scores a near bullseye with a misunderstood satire of the recent Jason Stathem/Vin Diesel ultra-violent anti-hero thrillers.

Clive Owen is Smith, the anti-hero at the core of Shoot ‘Em Up, and, as he did in Children of Men, shows why he was most everyone’s first choice to be the current Bond (even though Daniel Craig was fine too). He faces off against henpecked hitman Hertz (Paul Giamatti, taking his cues off Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Mission: Impossible III global bad guy) attempting to protect a beautiful whore (the beyond gorgeous Monica Belluci) and an infant whose mother died in Smith’s arms.

How does Davis turn the cartoon-level violence on its head? For starters, Smith’s signature killing move is driving a carrot through an opponent’s eye–and having Smith, a real invisible man further off the radar than Gene Hackman’s character in Enemy of the State, actually grow his own carrots in the vacant building in which he squats. That’s what I call a whole ‘nother level.

In the current batch of one man going up against an army of killers movies, the protagonist somehow evades multiple fusillades of bullets but Owen and Belluci take this to ridiculous heights in Shoot ‘Em Up, with two confrontations towards the end, one in Smith’s squat and the other where Owen tracks Giamatti to his client and attacks their lair. The idea that his aim–and luck–is so much better than every single one of the baddies’, well, I just have to laugh.

Warning: Though this is decidedly a satire, and a high-grade one, I want to be clear that bullets and blood are onscreen in massive quantities.

recommended

Love, Actually is one of our (my wife and I) favorite movies, which we watch every New Year’s Eve (or Day), and Ryan Reynolds is turning out to show up pretty well most times too so when we saw a ‘new movie from the people who brought you Love, Actually’ starring the actor that Matthew Perry and Matt LeBlanc want to be we figured it would be to our liking. Sure enough, it was.

Definitely, Maybe is kind of a grownup fairy tale that Will Hayes (Reynolds) tells to his spunky daughter Maya (the uber-present tike Abigail Breslin) after he splits up with his wife and her mother. Once upon a time daddy was luckier than, well, most princes and got to date three gorgeous women. “What’s a threesome, daddy?” “A game adults play sometimes when they get… bored.” Whatever.” Will marries one but changes some of the facts and the names so Maya has to guess which one became her mommy.

Is she college sweetheart Elizabeth Banks, aspiring journalist Rachel Weisz or the unassuming Isla Fischer, who Will meets when he moves to New York to launch his career in politics? Any one of them would have satisfied 99.999% of (straight) men in America, I’d have to say. Each has some failing that makes Will move on. And of course at the end his precocious daughter makes sure he reconnects with the woman who is the right choice for him.

Also lending a hand are Derek Luke as Will’s best friend and consulting partner, Adam Ferrara as their mentor, Nestor Solano the politician the three support and Kevin Kline as Weisz’s Tom Wolfe-ish mentor and lover.

Despite the advertising, Love, Actually’s writer/director Richard Curtis is in no way involved here; the connection is a few of the same people produced both flicks (and probably carefully chose a title that echoes the earlier hit). No worries, Canadian-born writer/director Adam Brooks (Practical Magic, Wimbledon, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason) does fine with this American-set tale and Curtis has rarely ventured beyond the shores of the British Isles.

Brooks offers three very different, smart and warm women as Hayes’ (and our) choices, develops his characters without rushing or stomping plot development and cleverly avoids telegraphing the result so early that the climax gets spoiled. A chick flick that men can enjoy, on par with Brook’s Practical Magic rather than his Renee Zellweger sequel which, to be fair, possibly suffered from too many chefs sticking spoons in.

recommended

Nearly a decade after its release I finally saw this 1999 Brad Pitt/Edward Norton cult classic that, more than anything else, reminds me of a dramatic version of Office Space. Both are highly negative looks at the life of a modern corporate worker, or white collar slave as Pitt’s character Tyler Durden calls them. I like to think that, with my focus on leading edge technology and preference for the startup life, neither movie is really talking about me but that could be simple self-deception.

Fight Club begins with The Narrator (Norton, whose character is never addressed by name) showing us how attending various 12 step and illness support group meetings is the only cure for his insomnia; he also meets fellow impostor Marla (Helena Bonham Carter), a woman who attends as many of these as him.

Then our boy (the character is referred to as The Narrator since throughout Fight Club he, well, narrates) returns from yet another pointless business trip to find his apartment in flames. Everything in it is a complete loss with firefighters struggling to contain the damage. This is just after (I think) he’s explained having a serious Ikea addiction.

On the flight he met Durden and with nowhere else to go he phones him to meet for a beer. A few drinks later Tyler gets the Narrator to admit his real purpose was to ask for a place to crash. Then Tyler asks to be punched and the club is born. Somehow word gets out and frustrated men (exclusively men) show up to join; the Narrator moves into the decrepit, off the map house Durden squats in and blackmails his boss into a no-show job, complete with lots of plane tickets, and local chapters get launched all over.

Meanwhile Durden and Marla hook up. Constantly and loudly, much to the Narrator’s annoyance, though the two don’t seem capable of a direct conversation and, even more annoying, use him as an intermediary.

In the final act of the movie, the club moves on to a direct assault on American business. If the job Norton’s character held early on was a 9mm handgun, Project Mayhem is a few tons of homebrew terrorist explosive. The Narrator finally wakes up to the Sixth Sense-ish twist on reality, perhaps a shade too late, though by then we’re (the audience) no longer able to decide what’s real and what’s, er, inside his head.

Novelist Chuck Palahniuk and scriptwriter Jim Uhls (his first feature credit, Uhls also wrote the recently released Jumper) took the humor of Bill Lumbergh’s constant deadpan reminders to turn in TPS reports, to work weekends, and said screw that, let’s just go right to the heart of the problem: modern workers allow themselves to be turned into nameless slaves kept passive through mindless consumerism built on top of advertising hammered right to their brain’s indiscriminating pleasure center.

Director David Fincher, who previously worked with Pitt in the nasty Se7en and will again in a new production of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Curious Case of Benjamin Button coming this Christmas, matches the visuals, particularly the sets, to the plot an dialog; that house Pitt and Norton share was an outstanding choice and the ways it changes over the course of the movie provides a mirror to the evolution of the Fight Club and the club members.

The three leads pull off some difficult acting assignments, the two men especially needing to be great to make the movie succeed and sell the last-innings twist. Meat Loaf has a great turn as a guy who connects with the Narrator early on at one of those support groups and then joins the club and both Zach Grenier and (a very dyed blonde) Jared Leto do well in smaller roles.

recommended

A testbed for a new generation of 3D technology, U2 3D is no gimmick. One of the trailers was for the upcoming Scorsese-directed Rolling Stones concert movie and the difference was clear. Another trailer, by the way, was for a new 3D version of Jules Vernes’ classic SF novel Journey to the Center of the Earth and from the few minutes shown looks likely to be a bigger result than would be expected from yet another normal remake, even with Brendan Fraser as the star.

The 3ality technology made a qualitative difference for me, analogous to the difference between analog and HD TV. There were a few times, primarily when the overhead camera flew towards the stage over the crowd, that I was a bit overwhelmed, but in general the large,  spacious stage worked well. Their setup for this tour was a two level primary stage, mainly for The Edge’s electric piano setup at the left, with two long arms curving in towards each other 80 feet or so out from the main stage. Bono and Adam Clayton went out the arms into the heart of the audience the most but even Larry Mullen, Jr., got out their with a simple snare and cymbal kit for Sunday Bloody Sunday. The Edge, well, he’s an amazingly creative guitarist who rarely turns up in discussions of six string greats, though he ought to. I was quite amused to see him changing guitars for every song, with no repeats until at least the sixth song, and apparently believing that stomping his leg improves the output.

U2 don’t add any other musicians or backup singers, why should they when between them they create a huge walloping sound, and after 30 years have a quality relationship very few outfits can match–can you think of another band that has the exact same membership as the day their first record came out and is still producing the same high quality music?

The biggest negatives about U2 3D are that at 85 minutes the show is just not long enough–TS1 and I are big, big fans and 13 songs were about four or five too few–and there are no backstage scenes or anything but Route One performance footage. I would have liked to see a few minutes of what the band does immediately before running onto the stage.

The movie’s set list has few surprises; it was shot during the Vertigo tour (TS1 and I saw the San Jose show), in seven locations across South and Central America and Australia, though primarily in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

1. Vertigo
2. Beautiful Day
3. New Year’s Day
4. Sometimes You Can’t Make It on Your Own
5. Love and Peace or Else
6. Sunday Bloody Sunday
7. Bullet the Blue Sky
8. Miss Sarajevo
9. Pride (In the Name of Love)
10. Where the Streets Have No Name
11. One
12. The Fly
13. With or Without You

recommended

Another quality collaboration between director Steven Soderbergh and star George Clooney following the Oceans Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen flicks plus Out of Sight and the less than stellar scifi outing Solaris. This 2006 movie was a very high profile ‘quality’ production shot in black and white with archival footage providing very realistic sets into which the cast were green screened but it only got one Oscar nomination, Thomas Newman for original score. Though Newman did win, so there’s that.

The Good German is set at the time of the Potsdam Conference, between the German and Japanese surrenders at the end of WWII, where Truman, Churchill and Stalin met to divvy up the post-war map. Clooney plays Jake Geismer, a military journalist, in fractionated Berlin to cover the conference; pre-war he’d been the Berlin office head for Associated Press.

Lena Brandt, played by a very dark-haired Cate Blanchett, was Geismer’s stringer and lover in those days, despite being married. Now she lives with a real American army rat called Tully (Tobey Maguire), allowing him to pimp her out and treat her like shite in order to survive. And in a strange coincidence Tully, who nominally works in the motor pool when he isn’t profiteering in the black market, is assigned as Geismer’s driver.

Brandt’s husband Emil (Christian Oliver) supposedly dies a year or two before though other than Jake no one seems to believe it. And everybody in positions of power want to get their hands on Emil. Even his wife wants little more than to get out of Germany as long as she can get Emil to safe (i.e., American) hands as part of the trade. TPTB don’t care about her but for sure are not willing to see the husband, who was the right hand of the scientist at the heart of the Nazi rocket program, captured by another power. This puts Geismer into danger since he, of course, cannot resist trying to save the one woman he apparently ever loved.

For me Good German was Soderbergh and Clooney making another throwback flick. Where the Oceans trilogy recaptured the Rat Pack magic and formalized Clooney as the (non-singing) Sinatra of the new millenium, here they went, reasonably  successfully, for the Howard Hawks and Cary Grant mantles.

The script by Paul Attanasio, from Joseph Kanon’s novel, was also quality stuff, not surprising since Attanasio also wrote Donnie Brasco and Quiz Show and was showrunner of one of my favorite TV series, Homicide: Life on the Streets. Although the politics were surely revisionist, the plot, pacing and dialog were reminiscent of some of the best ’40s war noir efforts like The 39 Steps and Notorious.

recommended