Laden with melodrama, teenage angst, and Bonnaroo t-shirts, The Kids Are All Right fumbles with modern family issues in typical post-modern/Sundance fashion. The plotline is simple—one spouse cheats on the other, forcing their two children to endure the resulting emotional damage, just months before the oldest child tearfully leaves for college. Not exceedingly original. However, inventiveness is at least attempted by casting the parents as lesbians (Julianne Moore and Annette Bening), and the person with whom the wife cheats happens to be the sperm donor of their children (Mark Ruffalo). Despite this outwardly controversial tint, the film is lacking in the “noteworthy features” department, and thus isn’t one of those films that spends days percolating in your subconscious.
The story begins when Joni, the daughter (Mia Wasikowska), turns eighteen and is persuaded by her younger brother Laser (Josh Hutcherson) to contact their sperm donor “just to see what he’s like.” The donor, Paul, quit college to forge a career in food services, after donating sperm at the old age of nineteen. Careless and easy going, Paul immediately clashes with Nic, the structured but self-sacrificing OB/GYN mother who doesn’t think Paul has any place in her kids’ lives. However Jules, more spiritual and less analytical than her partner, is more open to Paul’s presence and agrees to design the backyard of one of his restaurants (landscape architecture is her new thing). Marital problems leave Jules feeling unappreciated and unsuccessful, which enables her attraction to Paul, beginning their heterosexual, extra-marital affair. Nic, of course, finds out and after a densely emotional and realistic explosion, the audience is presented with a premature happy ending just as Joni moves into college.
Although it’s fun to watch Alice [in Wonderland] argue with Maude Lebowski and Carolyn Burnham (the mom from American Beauty), Joni’s character is poorly developed and she acts as though she’s fifteen as opposed to eighteen. Laser’s friend Clay is also entirely unbelievable. The asshole best friend described simply as “a tool,” his actions are so extreme (i.e. urinating on a stray dog) that instead of disliking his character you just wish that the director weren’t trying so hard to develop an antagonist. Additionally, Joni’s best friend Sasha is supposed to be the sex-obsessed yet obviously still a virgin source of peer pressure, mimicking American Beauty’s Jane and Angela relationship. These borrowed and incomplete characters reflect the writers’ and filmmakers’ weak creativity and inexperience with handling audience perception. There were also images of freedom, peace, and music in every scene, which is a noble gesture but yet again, overdone and poorly executed.
Thankfully, the relationship between Jules and Nic is the film’s most redeeming aspect and naturally the most critical. The main reason the plot comes across as recycled is because the two lesbian mothers are not portrayed any differently from a “normal” husband and wife, therefore they argue, discuss, and act exactly like any other married couple would. There is also that rare element of reality incorporated into the relationship, particularly the elasticity of even well-defined sexual orientation.
So the verdict: excellent representation of homosexual relationships and families, but not high in the running for cinematic masterpiece of the year.
-Lindsay Sturm
With plot descriptions like “Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky have a passionate affair,” “a romance between two radical twentieth-century artists,” “Chanel and Stravinsky move in together and fall madly in love,” you would expect this movie to be a romance, but you’d be wrong. With minimal dialogue and character development, the film is lucky that the story, adapted from Chris Greenhalgh’s novel is interesting enough to hold its own (sort of). And if that fails, there’s always the kaleidoscopic, black and white set design (true to Chanel’s philosophy of “I don’t do color”) in combination with plenty of high angle shots that tilt dramatically into high-contrast, classical art frames to keep your eyes from closing.
The film opens in Paris, 1913 where Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring” is declared “an insult to music” by an audience that acts as though they’re being forced to watch pornography in church. His masterpiece then becomes the film’s entire score, which, unaccompanied by the dinosaurs of Fantasia, can be a bit tedious and repetitive. Chanel, inspired by Stravinsky’s bizarre, Russian music, invites him and his family to move into her mansion so that he may compose in a more productive environment. There is no courting, wooing, or flirting in this movie, and it seems as though the only reason Igor and Coco should be attracted to each other is out of respect for the others’ artistic genius, insinuating that an individual’s creativity and artistic output is more valuable than his/her personality.
The audience is kept extremely distant from the characters and emotion is displayed only when Stravinsky is interacting with his ill wife, which is not frequently. Chanel is portrayed as frigid and self-absorbed, and yet is still easier to appreciate than Igor, who without any hesitation cheats on the ailing mother of his many children and then demonstrates a complete lack of ability to deal with the situation he instigated. Chanel continues to emanate her stoic indifference in response to Igor’s familial disintegration, and the film concludes in a way that WOULD be tragic IF you cared about any of the characters. Without any of the classically incorporated elements necessary to construct a romantic or introspective film, the story becomes one of artistic ruination as opposed to love or emotional grief.
The dynamic between Chanel and Stravinsky is unique for the early twentieth century, though probably heavily embellished. It climaxes when Stravinsky tells Chanel that she is not artist, but a shopkeeper, to which she replies that she is a more successful artist than he is. Despite being lovers, Coco and Igor don’t say anything to each other that could possibly be misconstrued into a compliment, though the sex scenes are powerfully graphic and the only scenes in the film that aren’t entirely cold. Stravinsky is portrayed as a chauvinistic, 1920s male character, but he’s the one without a moral foundation or idealistic core to stand on when both Chanel and his wife leave him. Too weak and indecisive to choose between marital obligation and romantic desire, Stravinsky is forced to acknowledge his dependency on what he believed to be the lesser sex.
As a biopic, the film can either be interpreted as limited to an opaque surface, or generously revealing and unbiased. Chanel and Stravinsky’s actions are presented without the depiction of motives or thoughts processes, therefore allowing the viewer to make his/her own decisions about the characters, based solely on historical truths. Without any intimacy, there’s no way to sympathize with the subjects of the film, and for once, that might be a good thing.
- Lindsay Sturm
Yes, I have been keeping up with the Twilight saga, partially because my pal plays one of the vampires (go Team Jasper!), partially because I teach high school girls, and partially because I don't want to waste my time reading the books and I'm curious about what makes these stories so popular.
In my opinion, the first movie in the series was so laughably awful that it was hard to gain the fortitude to even make it to the theater for the second. Luckily, New Moon was genuinely funny at times, so I was laughing with the actors/characters and not directly at them (at least some of the time), and the film was more engaging and heartfelt.
I'm happy to report that the direction, acting, and storylines have been improving with each movie, which makes Eclipse the most watchable of the three, by far. And though I still wouldn't classify it as a good movie, it does have real entertainment value beyond Jacob's hot bod, as well as some delightful little moments...especially when Bella's father (still one of the best actors in the whole saga) awkwardly asks Bella if she's using protection with Edward and she blurts out "still a virgin!" Or when Jacob (another of the better actors) is arguing with Edward and tells Mr. Swan that he tried to kiss Bella and she broke her hand punching him in the face. Or when Jacob needs to keep Bella warm in the tent surrounded by snow and tells Edward, "You know I'm hotter than you." Ding! Yes, cute and witty little moments with great timing basically earn my respect.
However, I have to say that I might like these Twilight films better if:
1. Bella wasn't such a damsel in distress. She does absolutely nothing to help herself or anyone else. She requires muscular boys to protect her, and the only way she has attempted to really help out so far is by injuring herself to distract a hungry vampire. Plus she's constantly putting other people in danger.
2. The entire series didn't, consequently, serve as some little-girl fantasy. Let's see...two hot boys fighting over you, one of them a hunky (well, to others anyway) vampire and the other a hunky werewolf, both strong, reliable, and dying to save you from your boring life and any creatures thirsting for your blood, not to mention the whole being young and free of adult responsibilities for all eternity...what fourteen-year-old girl wouldn't want that?!
3. Being immortal wasn't posited as the perfect solution to the pesky problem of life's impermanence. In New Moon, Bella admits to Edward that she won't be with him forever because she will age and eventually die whereas he will always live in the body of an eighteen-year-old, thus tearing them apart somewhere in the perceivable future. Newsflash my darlin Bella: nothing lasts forever. Not your body, not your mind (or so we think), and probably not the love affair you started in high school. Life's meaning is derived from its finiteness and the fact that no, we don't get a million chances to do the same things over and over. And no, we don't get to stay teenagers forever. This is, in fact, a good thing, not to mention perfectly natural.
But of course, instead of coming to a realization about the realities of life, death, and everything that might exist in between, Bella solves the little problem of mortality by deciding to become a vampire. Great. That way she and Edward will NEVER split up or move on! Ever! For thousands and thousands of years. How utterly boring. And what a terrible message to send to young girls (for whom the movies are obviously geared) just coming into a sense of themselves as sexual people: that one should basically give up one's soul in order to preserve "love" beyond the natural limitations of such a thing. I wish Bella would grow up, not stay exactly the same. Oh wait, she's going to get fangs now! Okay, cool.
4. The plot didn't constantly revolve around Bella being in danger. It's getting old.
5. The plot didn't constantly involve Bella's romantic feelings and urges, which seem to make up for a lack of personality I will complain about in number 6.
6. Bella had more personality. I get that Stephanie Meyer designed the character to be like a blank slate so that most female readers could simply insert themselves inside and pretend that they're the one doing all that making out. Let's look at what we do know about Bella: she has brown hair and brown eyes; she's clumsy; she wears hoodies; she goes to school; she has parents; she takes pictures with a digital camera; she Googles; she likes boys...a lot; she is sorta shy, sorta not; she drives; she smiles rather infrequently. Hmmm....that's all I've really got, after three movies. Now remind me, why is Bella such an object of lust and desire? Maybe it's her rail-thin frame? Vampires dig that sort of thing, and naturally so do guys who constantly need to protect their damsel. Or maybe it's because she's so willing to get married (before having sex, of course) and give up a life of being warm-blooded. Yes, that must be it.
6. Bella didn't make such bad choices. For one, Edward over Jacob? Come on! You're telling me that you'd rather become the living undead than mack it with a hot, Native American, tattooed werewolf who carries you through the woods and makes you a bracelet!? No.
In conclusion, yes Eclipse held my attention. Yes some parts were actually enjoyable (despite a few bursts of oh-god-how-stupid laughter). The action sequences were so-so, what with the lack of blood due to vampire bodies behaving much like mannequins, but some of the fighting scenes were well executed, and Dakota Fanning was pretty creepy as some type of vampiress leader. Even Jasper played a bigger role, which made me smile. And the Peter Murphy cameo I felt so conflicted about only lasted for ten seconds or less. He played a vampire ("Bela Lugosi's Dead!"), though Twilight tweens have no idea who he is.
Clearly, I'm just dying to see the next installment...get it?
-Amy Dupcak; no-alternative.net
As someone who watched all three seasons of the borderline anime cartoon series Avatar, I had very high hopes for the live action movie (which couldn't use the title Avatar for obvious reasons). When I found out that M. Night Shyamalan would direct the film, I started to get nervous.
I cannot quite express how much the Nickelodeon series impressed me; here was a show geared toward kids but with heavy philosophical and spiritual overtones, young characters of rather indigenous origins, many of whom could control the natural elements, and a well balanced mix of fighting and action scenes, emotional moments, coming-of-age discoveries, changing friendships, and of course that whole saving the world thing. The Avatar, an airbender named Aang, is a twelve-year-old boy who must conquer his fears, accept his mistakes, and learn from other benders so that he can master all four elements and save the world from the tyrannical Fire Nation, since the Avatar is the only person (constantly reborn) who can bend earth, air, water, and fire. I didn't want any director, Shyamalan or otherwise, to disrupt this balance, throwing the story off course like the Fire Nation tampering with the world's order.
Despite some of the show's profound conflicts about science and religion that would go over an eight-year-old's head, I expected that the movie would be for a kid-tween audience, and thus I was prepared for the 3D option, which I opted out of, and an oversimplification of some of the larger ideas. But what I got was an oversimplification of the entire first season. I think the first five episodes were zipped through in roughly five minutes. The problem with transferring multiple hours of storytelling to reasonable movie-length is that you're likely to lose a lot of the intricacies, and with that, a real connection to the characters.
Shyamalan sacrificed character development and mounting tension for CGI-ridden action sequences (some of which were pretty short) and to basically touch on as many plot points as possible. The characters flew from one kingdom to the next without any sense of how they were feeling or surviving, and how much time was actually passing. The amount to which the narrative was rushed made every line of dialogue or piece of information absolutely crucial and, unfortunately, some of this was delivered quite poorly in connection to its significance.
While none of the acting was atrocious, Slumdog Millionaire's Dev Patel definitely shined as the tormented Prince Zuko, although Zuko was a much more initially sympathetic character here than he was in the show. Noah Ringer, with his airbending tattoos and martial arts background, came through as Aang most of the time, and Jackson Rathbone and Nicola Peltz definitely looked like siblings, as they played Sokka and Katara. But of course, they're white, whereas Sokka and Katara were essentially eskimos. There have been enough arguments about the "racebending" of the film, what with Ringer not exactly looking like a young Asian monk, the green-eyed sibling team, and the good Nordic looking Northern Water Tribe fighting the evil Indian Fire Nation. Skin color was never an issue in the series, and shouldn't be made into one now, but it's obvious that Shyamalan made some bold choices.
Race aside though, there were some other interesting decisions I just didn't understand. For one, the names "Aang" and "Sokka" were pronounced differently. Secondly, the character of Katara was much softer and also seemingly more passive, whereas Sokka, once a humorous sidekick, had barely a shred of humor. Shyamalan aimed to create a rather "realistic" magical world, and in doing so everything was more serious, so much so that the actors barely cracked a smile. In the show, Uncle Iroh was a charming and chubby former Commander, whereas actor Shaun Toub is fit and dreadlocked...maybe not such a bad choice there. But the Fire Lord was probably the least frightening villain I've ever seen, and his Commander wasn't much better. Shyamalan also made "necessary" changes to avoid confusion, or to further simplify how the characters gained information and moved from one place to another, which took out the fun of seeing Aang, Katara, and Sokka interact. The saving grace of the film is the beautiful settings, the lovable , flying CGI Appa, who doesn't get enough screen time, and some of the slow-mo fighting segments. But for me, or anybody over the age of twelve, that's just not enough. I agree with IMDB's 4.4 out of 10 star rating. Shame.
words by Amy Dupcak
Hypothetically, good things could be expected from a movie with a cast that includes Common, Queen Latifah, Pam Grier, Phylicia Rashad, Paula Patton, and a host of cameos from NBA players. Unfortunately, for the new Cinderella story-meets-NBA romantic comedy, Just Wright, you need more than a good cast to make a good movie.
Common, who has enjoyed the success of a string of supporting roles in movies like American Gangster and Smokin’ Aces, does a decent job playing a compelling NBA star in his first leading role. He clearly hit the gym and brushed up on his basketball skills to play McKnight, and he comes across as sincere and introspective.
Gavin McInnes, host of documentary A Million In the Morning prefaced the film’s New York press screening by stating that “this apparently is the kind of movie you make that gets you fired.” Ridiculous and frightening, the best part of A Million in the Morning is the fact that it’s actually an incredibly insightful neurological experiment, in addition to being the most fucking hilarious film ever made.
Directed by Jason Goldwatch, the film follows six competitors, sponsored by Netflix, who are attempting to break the Guinness World Record for continuous movie watching. Accomplishing this feat involves not sleeping for 123 hours (five days), with judges to determine whether the competitors blink for too long, look away from the screen, or violate any other regulations. The host, or narrator of the film Gavin McInnes decides to forfeit sleep with the competitors, though he’s not confined to watching movies in a plexiglass room in the middle of Times Square like they are.
Despite having access to copious amounts of Redbull, coffee, cocaine, amphetamines, and alcohol, delirium took over and McInnes and the competitors “spent their sanity points too quickly.” After losing their ability to focus on or comprehend the movies’ plots, former “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” winner from Texas, after watching The Matrix, passionately declared “That movie was so damn stupid!” and U.S. competitive eating champion later followed up with “West Side Story is absolutely atrocious.” One of the contestants continuously requested ice to put in his pants to help him from falling asleep.
McInnes had the luxury (or misfortune) of being able to roam NYC streets, harassing random people and following them onto busses to interview them. The large majority of the time McInnes just appears to be drunk, especially when he lays down, looks into the camera, and in the voice of a five-year-old explains how he and the production crew will now be known as “the skel-ton crew. Not the skeleton crew, skel-ton crew. We’re a three-syllable gang. Skel-ton. Oh wait that’s two syllables…” There is also a pivotal moment where McInnes hurls himself out of a porta-potty, throws himself down on the floor and proclaims “I just realized we don’t exist. And I can prove it mathematically” and proceeds to do so (his theory actually deserves a tiny bit of merit).
A Million in the Morning is the perfect blend of science, professional cinematography, “Adult Swim” and Youtube humor, and in the end two contestants break the Guinness record, and Gavin McInnes can finally go to sleep. After his painful but noble mental journey, he leaves us with these parting words: “Thank you very much for tuning in, and good luck with your abortion.” Well said, Mr. McInnes, well said.
*A Million in the Morning is not playing in theaters, but you can purchase the DVD and watch clips on the film's website amillioninthemorning.com
- Lindsay Sturm
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