Welcome to my first in a series of reviews called “As Seen On Demand.” One of the benefits of the current state of digital cable/Comcast is the existence of movie channels within the 300 block (hooray for HBO, Starz, Encore, Cinemax, and Showtime!) and their subsequent on-demand selections. This series will celebrate the good and the horrible shown randomly on those channels. The movies you end up watching at 2AM when you’ve got nothing better to do, and the movies you always wanted to see but never knew they could be as completely mind-numbingly horrible until you finally checked them out on your own time, stapled to your couch.
Warning: There be spoilers ahead!
First up is 8 Femmes, or 8 Women, a 2002 French film. It’s sort of the French equivalent of Clue, except it’s an all-female cast. And they sing. And there are lesbians.
The first time I saw this movie, I had to say, “What the hell?” I wasn’t expecting anything unusual. I didn’t know that the film was based on a 1960s play by Robert Thomas (a play that no one seems to have performed since 1960, or so the internet would have me believe. Seriously. I can’t find a production of it anywhere. There was a notice about a performance in Singapore a few years ago, and that’s about it. So much for getting my community theater to perform it, English-speaking American audiences be damned). I just knew my French teacher was having us watch it in a series of French films we were viewing as a way of learning the language without doing any real work (the benefit of the senior year non-AP French credit).
The film opens with Suzon (Virginie Ledoyen) entering her brightly-colored, snowed-in French mansion. We learn quickly that she has returned on winter break from a generic and non-specific university, all to spend Christmas vacation with her wildly kooky family: uptight mother Gaby (Catherine Deneuve), sweet alcoholic grandmother Mamy (Danielle Darrieux), neurotic aunt Augustine (Isabelle Huppert), and not-quite-seventeen spunky and insolent sister Catherine (Ludivine Sagnier). Plus her long-time housekeeper Madame Chanel (Firmine Richard) and n00b maid/resident slut Louise (Emmanuelle Beart).
Oh, and she’s visiting her father, too. Of course. Or she would be, if he wasn’t dead in his bedroom. But we don’t know that yet. First, we get introductions to seven of the eight title women and an incredibly upbeat ear-worm of a musical number sung by Catherine (with Suzon and Gaby as backup dancers- by the way, there is absolutely nothing more amusing than seeing Catherine Deneuve as a backup dancer for a French teenager singing a sixties song in a movie that takes place sometime in the fifties). Anywho, after a little more time, Louise the maid goes to bring Monsieur Marcel, the patriarch of this shindig, his tea, and we find that monsieur est morte.
Eventually, we also get Fanny Ardant as streetwalker/estranged sister of the deceased Pierette. And from or through her, we get some of the best dialogue in the film.
Pierette to Louise, “Everyone knows you sleep around.”
Louise: “You know, since we sleep with the same ones.”
This movie has more ridiculous subplots than any movie I have ever seen in my entire life. Possibly combined. Watching it is like wandering around Sarah Winchester’s mystery mansion and trying to make sense of it all. There are plot points that are never explained (the father of Suzon’s baby, for instance- we get one extreme dun da DUUUUUUUUN of an explanation, and then we never hear about it again), conflicted relationships and character changes that rarely make sense (usually from Augustine), and songs that vary from slow and painful to perky and upbeat with a smattering of sultry mixed around, but that rarely if ever have anything to do with the plot and absolutely never have any bearing on the current conversation. (By the way, everyone gets a song, but the three best numbers come from Pierette, Gaby, and Louise).
Oh, and lesbians. Can’t forget the lesbians.
That said, it’s a world of fun. The ridiculousness is what makes it great. There are lines of dialogue that are so campy they’re hilarious:
Augustine: “I was polishing my mother of pearl comb.”
Gaby: “At 2AM?”
Augustine: “Combs never sleep!”
Etc. And the colors- oh, those bright, early 2000s equivalent of fifties colors. Oh, the color coordinated costumes. And the staging- oh, why does no one ever perform this play anymore?
The eventual reveal doesn’t make any more sense than the rest of the movie, but it’s still tremendously fun to watch. And I have made it my mission to make sure that every one of my friends sees it at least once. Either as a gesture of love or a form of torture. Beautiful French torture. With lesbians. Grade: B
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Long awaited confessions of a movie critic
To the makers of the films I have bashed: I’m sorry. To the makers of the films I have praised: I’m sorry.
I have been writing reviews for TCR (F&M's College Reporter, for which many of these reviews were written) for nearly four years. I’ve applauded mediocre films and torn decent ones apart. I’ve let my expectations cloud my judgment, and artists that I enjoy have suffered when they failed to meet my vision of their potential.
I’ve got examples, too. In 2006, I gave Outcast’s “Idlewild” an A and Indigo Girl’s “Despite Our Differences” a C. Yet I haven’t touched Outcast since, and I still listen to several songs from “Despite Our Differences” on a regular basis. Both “Miracle at St. Anna” and “Confessions of a Shopaholic” have been circulating the 300 channels. Even though I raved about “Miracle at St. Anna” and sneered at “Confessions of a Shopaholic,” I haven’t rewatched the former, and I’ve watched the latter no less than 6 times since it has been on television and on demand.
The thing is, I’ve got different standards for different movies. I’ve got tastes that may or may not be satisfied (though, oddly enough, I’m far more likely to use grade inflation on a piece outside of my personal tastes), and if I expect nothing of a movie that turns out to be decent, it will get an A, whereas if I expect too much of a would-be decent movie, it will get a C or a D.
I’ve been wrestling with this bad karma for a couple of months. I’ve almost wanted to stop writing reviews, lest I screw another film over. For a while, I contented myself with the belief that no one reads my articles, but when a professor told me that she rethought seeing “Confessions of a Shopaholic” based on my review and a Tobey Maguire fan blog reposted comments from my review of “Brothers,” I had to rethink that theory as well.
So how do I justify writing the things I write? How do I justify giving a fluff comedy with a 17% rating on Rotten Tomatoes an A and, a week later, giving a Scorsese with a 65% Rotten Tomatoes rating a B (and a low B at that)?
First of all, I’ve decided that I judge movies by category. A decent romantic comedy will rate higher than a mediocre thriller, even if the thriller is an equal or better all around movie. I refuse to see anything wrong with this- after all, the Golden Globes do the same thing. It’s impossible to compare a movie that’s supposed to be fluffy fun to a movie that’s pushing for an Oscar. Who’s to say that the former should fail just because of its low-brow humor? If a comedy is really terrible, I’ll feel comfortable criticizing it, but I refuse to fail it just because it’s not “Titanic” or “Lord of the Rings” (though I will fail action films if they fail to live up to those standards).
Second of all, I see movies once before my reviews come out. I can’t help it. Albums, I have a little more leeway, but movies are expensive. Admission is anywhere from $8-10, plus popcorn and soda (without which, many of the movies I review would be unbearable). Add this to the fact that most movies come out on Fridays, and my reviews are due Sunday at the latest (thank you to my wonderful editors for putting up with my constantly late reviews). If I only see a movie once, I have to judge it based on my first impressions- not on its rewatch value. If I change my mind later, it’s too late to do anything about it.
I suppose the best (or worst) part of this scenario is that I plan on being a playwright/screenwriter post-graduation. Which means that someday, critics will be bashing my work. It’s tough to make a decent film, and to completely misquote Matt Scannell of Vertical Horizon, “Critics are people who can’t create their own art and need to tear down other people’s to make themselves feel better.” Well, after all of this, I still don’t feel better. Grade: D for effort. ☺
I have been writing reviews for TCR (F&M's College Reporter, for which many of these reviews were written) for nearly four years. I’ve applauded mediocre films and torn decent ones apart. I’ve let my expectations cloud my judgment, and artists that I enjoy have suffered when they failed to meet my vision of their potential.
I’ve got examples, too. In 2006, I gave Outcast’s “Idlewild” an A and Indigo Girl’s “Despite Our Differences” a C. Yet I haven’t touched Outcast since, and I still listen to several songs from “Despite Our Differences” on a regular basis. Both “Miracle at St. Anna” and “Confessions of a Shopaholic” have been circulating the 300 channels. Even though I raved about “Miracle at St. Anna” and sneered at “Confessions of a Shopaholic,” I haven’t rewatched the former, and I’ve watched the latter no less than 6 times since it has been on television and on demand.
The thing is, I’ve got different standards for different movies. I’ve got tastes that may or may not be satisfied (though, oddly enough, I’m far more likely to use grade inflation on a piece outside of my personal tastes), and if I expect nothing of a movie that turns out to be decent, it will get an A, whereas if I expect too much of a would-be decent movie, it will get a C or a D.
I’ve been wrestling with this bad karma for a couple of months. I’ve almost wanted to stop writing reviews, lest I screw another film over. For a while, I contented myself with the belief that no one reads my articles, but when a professor told me that she rethought seeing “Confessions of a Shopaholic” based on my review and a Tobey Maguire fan blog reposted comments from my review of “Brothers,” I had to rethink that theory as well.
So how do I justify writing the things I write? How do I justify giving a fluff comedy with a 17% rating on Rotten Tomatoes an A and, a week later, giving a Scorsese with a 65% Rotten Tomatoes rating a B (and a low B at that)?
First of all, I’ve decided that I judge movies by category. A decent romantic comedy will rate higher than a mediocre thriller, even if the thriller is an equal or better all around movie. I refuse to see anything wrong with this- after all, the Golden Globes do the same thing. It’s impossible to compare a movie that’s supposed to be fluffy fun to a movie that’s pushing for an Oscar. Who’s to say that the former should fail just because of its low-brow humor? If a comedy is really terrible, I’ll feel comfortable criticizing it, but I refuse to fail it just because it’s not “Titanic” or “Lord of the Rings” (though I will fail action films if they fail to live up to those standards).
Second of all, I see movies once before my reviews come out. I can’t help it. Albums, I have a little more leeway, but movies are expensive. Admission is anywhere from $8-10, plus popcorn and soda (without which, many of the movies I review would be unbearable). Add this to the fact that most movies come out on Fridays, and my reviews are due Sunday at the latest (thank you to my wonderful editors for putting up with my constantly late reviews). If I only see a movie once, I have to judge it based on my first impressions- not on its rewatch value. If I change my mind later, it’s too late to do anything about it.
I suppose the best (or worst) part of this scenario is that I plan on being a playwright/screenwriter post-graduation. Which means that someday, critics will be bashing my work. It’s tough to make a decent film, and to completely misquote Matt Scannell of Vertical Horizon, “Critics are people who can’t create their own art and need to tear down other people’s to make themselves feel better.” Well, after all of this, I still don’t feel better. Grade: D for effort. ☺
Valentine's Day
It’s a shame that this review is coming out after Valentine’s Day. Because the holiday’s namesake film, released this past Friday, is the perfect film to watch on February 14th.
Valentine’s Day is one of the most divisive holidays of the year. Couples can love the day as a chance to remind themselves of the puppy infatuation they felt when they first met, or they can feel completely inadequate for getting the wrong shade of roses from the over-packed flower shop. Single people can eat chocolate, go clubbing, and generally enjoy being non-committal for the day, or they can be absolutely miserable and want to pelt every happy couple with stale chocolate.
Luckily, moviegoers at “Valentine’s Day” this Friday left the theater feeling good about themselves and their current state of romantic existence. The film has so many different characters and subplots that it’s almost impossible not to relate to at least one of them. Single people leave feeling hopeful for the future, couples leave remembering why they’re together in the first place, and everyone in between just leaves feeling good about romance in general.
It’s amazing that I have gotten this far into this review without mentioning the cast. Anyone who saw the trailer for “Valentine’s Day” probably left thinking, “Who isn’t in this movie?” With an ensemble cast consisting of over twenty A-listers, this movie was easily Hollywood’s biggest employer outside of the restaurant business (yes, I went there). The thing is, after they’ve all been introduced at least once, it’s very easy to forget how star-studded this cast is. The stories blend and intertwine and progress well enough that the characters become and stay characters, rather than Ashton Kutcher, Jennifer Garner, Queen Latifah, Anne Hathaway, Julia Roberts, Patrick Dempsey, Jamie Foxx…(need I go on?).
The writing is very clever. There are one-liners and memorable scenes everywhere, most notably a scene where Jessica Biel breaks down in Valentine’s misery screaming at Jamie Foxx “My closest relationship is with my blackberry! Thank God it vibrates,” and a scene where Jennifer Garner poses as a waitress, publically humiliates her boyfriend in front of his wife, and then charges two lobster tail meals to his table. Some of the best humor comes from Taylor Swift (who can either act really well or really is a complete idiot- my money is on the former), Anne Hathaway (whose character is a receptionist slash phone sex operator), and Bryce Robinson (who at the age of ten is responsible for about 60% of the moviegoer’s giggles, awws, and general sensitivity- even Ashton Kutcher’s character calls him “the cutest kid in the world” after he earnestly tries to give Kutcher thirteen dollars for fifty-five dollars worth of roses).
There probably hasn’t been a film since “Love, Actually” that managed to do the ensemble romantic comedy film this well. Last year’s “He’s Just Not That Into You” almost achieved it, but it fell short of its goal in the end. As a predictable, gentle, February romantic comedy, “Valentine’s Day” won’t be winning any Oscars, but it’s still easily one of the best feel-good movies of the year. Grade: A-
Valentine’s Day is one of the most divisive holidays of the year. Couples can love the day as a chance to remind themselves of the puppy infatuation they felt when they first met, or they can feel completely inadequate for getting the wrong shade of roses from the over-packed flower shop. Single people can eat chocolate, go clubbing, and generally enjoy being non-committal for the day, or they can be absolutely miserable and want to pelt every happy couple with stale chocolate.
Luckily, moviegoers at “Valentine’s Day” this Friday left the theater feeling good about themselves and their current state of romantic existence. The film has so many different characters and subplots that it’s almost impossible not to relate to at least one of them. Single people leave feeling hopeful for the future, couples leave remembering why they’re together in the first place, and everyone in between just leaves feeling good about romance in general.
It’s amazing that I have gotten this far into this review without mentioning the cast. Anyone who saw the trailer for “Valentine’s Day” probably left thinking, “Who isn’t in this movie?” With an ensemble cast consisting of over twenty A-listers, this movie was easily Hollywood’s biggest employer outside of the restaurant business (yes, I went there). The thing is, after they’ve all been introduced at least once, it’s very easy to forget how star-studded this cast is. The stories blend and intertwine and progress well enough that the characters become and stay characters, rather than Ashton Kutcher, Jennifer Garner, Queen Latifah, Anne Hathaway, Julia Roberts, Patrick Dempsey, Jamie Foxx…(need I go on?).
The writing is very clever. There are one-liners and memorable scenes everywhere, most notably a scene where Jessica Biel breaks down in Valentine’s misery screaming at Jamie Foxx “My closest relationship is with my blackberry! Thank God it vibrates,” and a scene where Jennifer Garner poses as a waitress, publically humiliates her boyfriend in front of his wife, and then charges two lobster tail meals to his table. Some of the best humor comes from Taylor Swift (who can either act really well or really is a complete idiot- my money is on the former), Anne Hathaway (whose character is a receptionist slash phone sex operator), and Bryce Robinson (who at the age of ten is responsible for about 60% of the moviegoer’s giggles, awws, and general sensitivity- even Ashton Kutcher’s character calls him “the cutest kid in the world” after he earnestly tries to give Kutcher thirteen dollars for fifty-five dollars worth of roses).
There probably hasn’t been a film since “Love, Actually” that managed to do the ensemble romantic comedy film this well. Last year’s “He’s Just Not That Into You” almost achieved it, but it fell short of its goal in the end. As a predictable, gentle, February romantic comedy, “Valentine’s Day” won’t be winning any Oscars, but it’s still easily one of the best feel-good movies of the year. Grade: A-
Where The Wild Things Are
“Inside each of us, there is a wild thing.” So says the trailer for last week’s release of Where the Wild Things Are. The trailer also claims that the film comes from one of the most beloved children’s books of all time. The second statement is true because the book proves the first statement. Maurice Sendack’s world of wild things is the place that every child who falls asleep in a four-walled bedroom and every adult who falls asleep in a four-walled cubicle hopes to dream about. However, the film attempts to bring the world of the wild things back to a reality that tends to kill the magic more than it ignites it.
The film follows nine-year-old Max (relative newcomer Max Records) as he attempts to make sense of the world around him. His father is gone, his mother is with another man, he’s not allowed to break things or bite people the way he wants to, and, on top of it all, his teacher has just cheerfully informed him that the sun is dying. This seems like the perfect time to run away from home and straight into a group of giant creatures that completely understand the desire to break and bite everything- just try not to eat each other, or break too much.
Visually, the film works. The creatures are slightly goofy looking, but for a children’s movie, it’s both forgivable and lovable. The landscape of the wild things’ homeland is a beautifully peaceful forest and shore that would make anyone want to run away to join the creatures, bad tempers and appetites and all. Records is wonderful as Max, acting very much like a nine-year-old kid when the role calls for angry or adventurous yelling and ranting while maintaining sweet and serious innocence in his quieter moments.
However, the film fails when it tries to go outside of what the book called for. It is nearly impossible to make a decent film based on a twenty-page picture book. Almost anything else would be a preferable medium. Maybe a television series or web comic about Max and the creatures. Maybe some recording artist could create an album with songs about each individual wild thing and dress in Max’s creature suit and golden crown at concerts. Even a short play could work better than a full-length film based on the book. The film feels long when there is no plot, and what little plot there is tends to fall flat.
Why would the audience want to watch a failing love story between two of the creatures? It’s supposed to be a parallel to what Max’s parents have gone through with their divorce, but all it does is remind the audience why they want to escape into the world of the wild things. Sendack’s book took one image and made it last. The film takes the same image and makes it long and pointless.
The film might insight imagination in adults and children, but really, audiences would be better off reading a book or creating a world like this for themselves, alone in their rooms, allowing the trees to grow and the wild things to appear as Max does every time they turn the page. Grade: B-
The film follows nine-year-old Max (relative newcomer Max Records) as he attempts to make sense of the world around him. His father is gone, his mother is with another man, he’s not allowed to break things or bite people the way he wants to, and, on top of it all, his teacher has just cheerfully informed him that the sun is dying. This seems like the perfect time to run away from home and straight into a group of giant creatures that completely understand the desire to break and bite everything- just try not to eat each other, or break too much.
Visually, the film works. The creatures are slightly goofy looking, but for a children’s movie, it’s both forgivable and lovable. The landscape of the wild things’ homeland is a beautifully peaceful forest and shore that would make anyone want to run away to join the creatures, bad tempers and appetites and all. Records is wonderful as Max, acting very much like a nine-year-old kid when the role calls for angry or adventurous yelling and ranting while maintaining sweet and serious innocence in his quieter moments.
However, the film fails when it tries to go outside of what the book called for. It is nearly impossible to make a decent film based on a twenty-page picture book. Almost anything else would be a preferable medium. Maybe a television series or web comic about Max and the creatures. Maybe some recording artist could create an album with songs about each individual wild thing and dress in Max’s creature suit and golden crown at concerts. Even a short play could work better than a full-length film based on the book. The film feels long when there is no plot, and what little plot there is tends to fall flat.
Why would the audience want to watch a failing love story between two of the creatures? It’s supposed to be a parallel to what Max’s parents have gone through with their divorce, but all it does is remind the audience why they want to escape into the world of the wild things. Sendack’s book took one image and made it last. The film takes the same image and makes it long and pointless.
The film might insight imagination in adults and children, but really, audiences would be better off reading a book or creating a world like this for themselves, alone in their rooms, allowing the trees to grow and the wild things to appear as Max does every time they turn the page. Grade: B-
Dan Brown- The Lost Symbol
Monday’s release of Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol should bring back a few memories. Five years ago, no one could talk about anything other than Dan Brown and The Da Vinci Code. Everyone had a theory; church-goers wept; books and television programs about Leonardo Da Vinci and the Catholic church seemed to be everywhere. Dan Brown became a household name like J. K. Rowling and Stephen King. Then, after the mayhem had worn down, Brown all but disappeared. Between pushing Lost Symbol’s release date back year after year, critics panning Brown’s writing style, and the failure of the Da Vinci Code movie, the world just forgot about Dan Brown and his shocking page-turners.
Until now, that is. Apparently, enough people remembered Dan Brown to send Lost Symbol to the top of Amazon’s bestseller list after the first day it was released. The novel sold one million copies this Monday, prompting the publishers to rush-print six hundred thousand copies in addition to the five million already in stores. Readers jumped on Lost Symbol with nearly a fifteenth of the exuberance given to J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and almost the same rush as Stephenie Meyers’ Breaking Dawn.
However, is it really worth the hype?
Lost Symbol certainly feels like a Dan Brown book. The reader is constantly reminded of protagonist Robert Langdon’s flaws and quirks (claustrophobia, academic skepticism regardless of what he witnesses from book to book, and a Mickey Mouse watch to remind him to stay young). There is yet another female companion/possible love interest (with no mention, of course, of Da Vinci Code’s Sophie or Angels and Demons’ Vittoria). The police (in this case, the CIA) have good intentions but tend to mess things up for Langdon, and there is a mysterious and dangerous villain with a lot of tattoos behind it all.
The book is relatively fast-paced with short chapters and historical, scientific, artistic, and other miscellaneous tidbits that force the reader to decide whether to keep reading or pause and open Google. In Lost Symbol, Dan Brown chooses to step away from the Catholic church and concentrate instead on the Freemasons, but the defensive yet ambiguous portrayal of a secret organization under God and science reads about the same as Da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons (and, to some extent, Digital Fortress).
The flaws that ruin Dan Brown’s other books continue to ruin this one. The novel reads like a movie script. The characters aren’t particularly engaging, and it’s hard to really care about any of them (the sole exception being Langdon, and then only from loyal readers’ history with him). The book goes back and forth between fast-paced action sequences and long periods of dialogue and exposition, causing the reader to jump from page to page and then want to put the book down for a while. It’s a fast read, but a tough one to really absorb.
It would be easy to get caught in the mayhem and excitement of the plot and assume it really happened, except that skepticism left over from Da Vinci Code madness and criticism makes it difficult to take the book at face value. More disappointing, however, is the fact that, interesting historical tidbits aside, if you’ve read one Dan Brown book, you’ve read them all. There is no real growth between them, and while many readers (myself included) might be content to read the same book over and over again, this particular book lost its power back in 2005. That is, except for the nostalgia factor. Grade: B-
Until now, that is. Apparently, enough people remembered Dan Brown to send Lost Symbol to the top of Amazon’s bestseller list after the first day it was released. The novel sold one million copies this Monday, prompting the publishers to rush-print six hundred thousand copies in addition to the five million already in stores. Readers jumped on Lost Symbol with nearly a fifteenth of the exuberance given to J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and almost the same rush as Stephenie Meyers’ Breaking Dawn.
However, is it really worth the hype?
Lost Symbol certainly feels like a Dan Brown book. The reader is constantly reminded of protagonist Robert Langdon’s flaws and quirks (claustrophobia, academic skepticism regardless of what he witnesses from book to book, and a Mickey Mouse watch to remind him to stay young). There is yet another female companion/possible love interest (with no mention, of course, of Da Vinci Code’s Sophie or Angels and Demons’ Vittoria). The police (in this case, the CIA) have good intentions but tend to mess things up for Langdon, and there is a mysterious and dangerous villain with a lot of tattoos behind it all.
The book is relatively fast-paced with short chapters and historical, scientific, artistic, and other miscellaneous tidbits that force the reader to decide whether to keep reading or pause and open Google. In Lost Symbol, Dan Brown chooses to step away from the Catholic church and concentrate instead on the Freemasons, but the defensive yet ambiguous portrayal of a secret organization under God and science reads about the same as Da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons (and, to some extent, Digital Fortress).
The flaws that ruin Dan Brown’s other books continue to ruin this one. The novel reads like a movie script. The characters aren’t particularly engaging, and it’s hard to really care about any of them (the sole exception being Langdon, and then only from loyal readers’ history with him). The book goes back and forth between fast-paced action sequences and long periods of dialogue and exposition, causing the reader to jump from page to page and then want to put the book down for a while. It’s a fast read, but a tough one to really absorb.
It would be easy to get caught in the mayhem and excitement of the plot and assume it really happened, except that skepticism left over from Da Vinci Code madness and criticism makes it difficult to take the book at face value. More disappointing, however, is the fact that, interesting historical tidbits aside, if you’ve read one Dan Brown book, you’ve read them all. There is no real growth between them, and while many readers (myself included) might be content to read the same book over and over again, this particular book lost its power back in 2005. That is, except for the nostalgia factor. Grade: B-
Couples Retreat
“Couples Retreat” is a mildly amusing comedy that has the audience asking similar questions about the film to the ones the film asks about the couples- do they have the ability to make this work?
It’s a tough question to answer with the film. The filmmakers began with a middle of the road premise and middle of the road comedic actors (such as B-comedy veteran Vince Vaughn). Given the proper amount of humor, maybe after breaking a few rules, this comedy could have worked. As it stands, however, the film proves that some comedies really are just doomed to fail.
“Couples Retreat” follows four couples as they make their way to a couple’s resort that turns out mainly to be a couple’s rehab. As the couples are forced to work together, what seemed good no longer seems so, problems that may or may not have actually been there are unleashed, and the couples continually resent each other and the therapists keeping them there.
Vince Vaughn shows no growth as an actor. In every movie that this reviewer has seen him (and as a former lover of Ben Stiller movies, it’s a decent amount), he has played the exact same character. Maybe the circumstances differed a little bit, but Vaughn never does. While there is some benefit to being a type (especially one that haunts the same comedies that will continue to be made for years), without a little versatility Vince Vaughn will discover that monotony can ruin a career the same way it can ruin a marriage.
As far as the other actors in the film go, Kristen Bell (Cynthia) is initially difficult to believe as a middle-aged housewife, but she and husband Jason (Jason Bateman) play the part well with decent emotional inflection as their marriage begins to fall apart. Kali Hawk (Trudy) is an increasingly irritating stereotype that appears to be there only for comedic value, which she begins to lack about five minutes into her performance. For such a large cast, the viewer would expect more memorable performances, but the others are as worth remembering as the distant relatives at a wedding reception. Most of them are really more caricatures than characters and don’t really do much to elevate the film.
The film is entertaining for the first ten minutes or so, and the landscape of the retreat can make any couple suddenly desire couple therapy (at least if it contains hot tubs in every room and free, fresh seafood every night). Most of the jokes run for far too long (most notably a yoga scene that jokes about sex as much as the PG-13 rating will allow) and fall flat quickly. The film is predictable to a fault, and the ending is atrocious. Like 50% of American marriages, “Couples Retreat” is a truly forgettable failure. Grade: C
It’s a tough question to answer with the film. The filmmakers began with a middle of the road premise and middle of the road comedic actors (such as B-comedy veteran Vince Vaughn). Given the proper amount of humor, maybe after breaking a few rules, this comedy could have worked. As it stands, however, the film proves that some comedies really are just doomed to fail.
“Couples Retreat” follows four couples as they make their way to a couple’s resort that turns out mainly to be a couple’s rehab. As the couples are forced to work together, what seemed good no longer seems so, problems that may or may not have actually been there are unleashed, and the couples continually resent each other and the therapists keeping them there.
Vince Vaughn shows no growth as an actor. In every movie that this reviewer has seen him (and as a former lover of Ben Stiller movies, it’s a decent amount), he has played the exact same character. Maybe the circumstances differed a little bit, but Vaughn never does. While there is some benefit to being a type (especially one that haunts the same comedies that will continue to be made for years), without a little versatility Vince Vaughn will discover that monotony can ruin a career the same way it can ruin a marriage.
As far as the other actors in the film go, Kristen Bell (Cynthia) is initially difficult to believe as a middle-aged housewife, but she and husband Jason (Jason Bateman) play the part well with decent emotional inflection as their marriage begins to fall apart. Kali Hawk (Trudy) is an increasingly irritating stereotype that appears to be there only for comedic value, which she begins to lack about five minutes into her performance. For such a large cast, the viewer would expect more memorable performances, but the others are as worth remembering as the distant relatives at a wedding reception. Most of them are really more caricatures than characters and don’t really do much to elevate the film.
The film is entertaining for the first ten minutes or so, and the landscape of the retreat can make any couple suddenly desire couple therapy (at least if it contains hot tubs in every room and free, fresh seafood every night). Most of the jokes run for far too long (most notably a yoga scene that jokes about sex as much as the PG-13 rating will allow) and fall flat quickly. The film is predictable to a fault, and the ending is atrocious. Like 50% of American marriages, “Couples Retreat” is a truly forgettable failure. Grade: C
Vertical Horizon- Burning the Days
Vertical Horizon has produced outstanding music in the past. Their single, “Everything You Want,” reached #1 on Billboard charts in 2000, and the song was played on every radio station at least a few times a day for months.
Even before “Everything You Want” came out, albums such as “Running On Ice” showed founders’ Matt Scannell and Keith Kane’s raw talent as musicians and singer/songwriters, producing songs such as “The Man Who Would Be Santa,” “Heart in Hand,” and “On The Sea.”
If you haven’t heard of these songs, I heavily suggest you do so before listening to their new album, “Burning the Days,” released this past Tuesday. Otherwise, you might think the band was “good,” instead of “spectacular.” That said, “Burning the Days” is definitely an album worth listening to (and waiting for- there have been six years between this album and the last and probably least of their six albums, Go, released in 2003).
The album starts with “All is Said and Done.” The song starts with congo-like drums that are reminiscent of something Peter Gabriel or Phil Collins might mix into the song. The song is one that gets stuck in the listener’s head very easily, because like former hits “Everything You Want” and “You’re A God,” it’s just so darn catchy. Such is the case with most of the songs on this album, to the point that it almost becomes oppressive.
Almost any song on this album could be a radio-friendly single. However, the band has chosen to release track five, “Save Me From Myself” as the first single off of “Burning the Days.” A rarity in the music industry (even “Everything You Want” pales next to songs like “We Are” and “Shackled,” both from the same album), “Save Me From Myself” is probably the best song on the album. It is one of the songs where the listener can best hear the raw, alternative-rock style of the full band, boasting slightly less production, clear harmonies in the chorus, and a killer instrumental bridge that’s probably amazing live.
Other notable songs are “Welcome to the Bottom,” a somewhat-cynical song with a terrific guitar solo towards the end, and the softer, sweeter “Even Now,” written by Matt Scannell of VH and Neil Peart of Rush, who also plays drums on several tracks.
The album only suffers in two ways. First is the lack of presence of Keith Kane, cofounder of the band. When the band was mainly an acoustic duo, Kane and Scannell mainly split songwriting and lead singer/guitarist duties. As a result, earlier albums had a lot more variety within them. On “Burning the Days,” Scannell is the only songwriter and guitarist, and Kane is only credited as performing “harmony vocals,” many of which are difficult to tell whether they are sung by Kane or Scannell himself (who is also credited with harmony vocals). As such, the album suffers a bit without Keith Kane’s style balancing out Matt Scannell’s.
The other way the album suffers is that in places, it appears to be a little over-produced. The songs are sometimes just a bit too smooth. This is a band with tremendous musical talent, which can be heard, but it would be much easier to hear without the overproduction. Because of this, while older fans will be able to love and appreciate “Burning the Days,” new fans would be better off listening to “Everything You Want” or “Running On Ice,” (or better yet, hearing them live- they give a spectacular live show) before giving this new album a try. Grade: B+
Even before “Everything You Want” came out, albums such as “Running On Ice” showed founders’ Matt Scannell and Keith Kane’s raw talent as musicians and singer/songwriters, producing songs such as “The Man Who Would Be Santa,” “Heart in Hand,” and “On The Sea.”
If you haven’t heard of these songs, I heavily suggest you do so before listening to their new album, “Burning the Days,” released this past Tuesday. Otherwise, you might think the band was “good,” instead of “spectacular.” That said, “Burning the Days” is definitely an album worth listening to (and waiting for- there have been six years between this album and the last and probably least of their six albums, Go, released in 2003).
The album starts with “All is Said and Done.” The song starts with congo-like drums that are reminiscent of something Peter Gabriel or Phil Collins might mix into the song. The song is one that gets stuck in the listener’s head very easily, because like former hits “Everything You Want” and “You’re A God,” it’s just so darn catchy. Such is the case with most of the songs on this album, to the point that it almost becomes oppressive.
Almost any song on this album could be a radio-friendly single. However, the band has chosen to release track five, “Save Me From Myself” as the first single off of “Burning the Days.” A rarity in the music industry (even “Everything You Want” pales next to songs like “We Are” and “Shackled,” both from the same album), “Save Me From Myself” is probably the best song on the album. It is one of the songs where the listener can best hear the raw, alternative-rock style of the full band, boasting slightly less production, clear harmonies in the chorus, and a killer instrumental bridge that’s probably amazing live.
Other notable songs are “Welcome to the Bottom,” a somewhat-cynical song with a terrific guitar solo towards the end, and the softer, sweeter “Even Now,” written by Matt Scannell of VH and Neil Peart of Rush, who also plays drums on several tracks.
The album only suffers in two ways. First is the lack of presence of Keith Kane, cofounder of the band. When the band was mainly an acoustic duo, Kane and Scannell mainly split songwriting and lead singer/guitarist duties. As a result, earlier albums had a lot more variety within them. On “Burning the Days,” Scannell is the only songwriter and guitarist, and Kane is only credited as performing “harmony vocals,” many of which are difficult to tell whether they are sung by Kane or Scannell himself (who is also credited with harmony vocals). As such, the album suffers a bit without Keith Kane’s style balancing out Matt Scannell’s.
The other way the album suffers is that in places, it appears to be a little over-produced. The songs are sometimes just a bit too smooth. This is a band with tremendous musical talent, which can be heard, but it would be much easier to hear without the overproduction. Because of this, while older fans will be able to love and appreciate “Burning the Days,” new fans would be better off listening to “Everything You Want” or “Running On Ice,” (or better yet, hearing them live- they give a spectacular live show) before giving this new album a try. Grade: B+
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