Innocent Bystander

Netflix Chronicles: Account on hold...

I'm going away for a while later this week, so I put my Netflix account on hold for the duration of my vacation. (Hey! That rhymed!) Did you know you could do that? It's kinda like asking the Post Office to hold your mail, only Netflix seems--so far--to get it right. You can tell it via the Netflix.com website when to stop and restart it. But anyway, in the meantime, let's get caught up on what I've been watching since I just know you've been wondering, and just patiently waiting for my latest round of reviews (except for you there in Arkansas, with your left leg shaking and your foot tapping...but that could just be because you have to go pee--hey! That rhymed!).

I found The Brothers Bloom to be sort of a mini-revelation, not amazing, but certainly incredibly enjoyable. It's different, fun, winsome, and quirky, without being too precious, a trait most quirky films have a bad habit of sliding into (see anything by Wes Anderson). Starring Adrien Brody and Mark Ruffalo as two con men brothers who break up their team only to reunite to con a flaky heiress (Rachel Weisz) out of her millions, this film is both strange and wonderful, in a quiet kind of way. I've never liked Brody to be honest--he's been horribly miscast in a number of films, in my opinion, including Hollywoodland and the Peter Jackson remake of King Kong. And Weisz is beautiful but definitely an acquired taste. They're both excellent in this film, as is Rinko Kikuchi as the enigmatic "Bang-Bang" (AKA Ying Ling, which Weisz's character mistakes for the Pennsylvania beer Yuengling). This film basically had me from the opening shot--who doesn't love a one-legged cat?--and kept me through the whole shebang. I'm thinking of buying it, that's how much I liked it.

Another pleasant surprise was Management, the sweet little...well, I hate to call it a rom-com, because they invoke thoughts of Sarah Jessica Parker or Sandra Bullock most likely paired with Matthew McConaughey, and that's a thought that tends to send me straight to the steak knife part of my silverware drawer. Let's just call it an indie film and leave it at that. I think Jennifer Aniston has awful taste in the big budget movies she picks (He's Just Not That Into You, Derailed, The Break-Up) but I've liked every indie film she's made, including Office Space, The Good Girl, Friends with Money and this one. She's a hotel art salesperson (the kind of dreck you find on room walls) who travels the country. She ends up in the sleepy little town of Kingman, Arizona where she runs into the slightly dim but nice Mike (the always great Steve Zahn), the son of the owners of the motel in which she stays. They meet strange and he basically ends up stalking her, following her across country. And in some bizarre way, they connect. It's one of those films that has a recurring--appealing--theme to me: Two lonely people coming together even though they seem so incredibly wrong for each other. If Aniston made only movies like this one, I'd like her a lot more...it humanizes her, makes her much more appealing than the shiny-legged movie star that shows up on Conan.

The Go-Getter is one of those films I rented based solely on the trailer shown on another film I rented from Netflix. It's also a lesson in why this is not always a good rule of thumb. As we all know, a good trailer does not necessarily mean a good movie. In fact, some trailers are better than the movies. Such is the case with this film, the tale of a slightly post-teen who steals a car and goes on an extended road trip to find his brother so he can let him know their mother died. The owner of the car--the always enchanting Zooey Deschanel--spends part of the film disembodied as she talks to the car thief on her cellphone, which was left in said car. Then she falls for him--over the phone--and meets him. The film has its moments--Zooey and star Lou Taylor Pucci playing cowboy on the beach is one of the slight ones--but it's disjointed and a bit too precious (even though it's not directed by Wes Anderson).

I rewatched State of Play, the American version of the British TV mini-series. This version stars Russell Crowe, Rachel McAdams, Helen Mirren, and Ben Affleck in it's distinctly Washingtonian slant on the storyline. It's a shame this film didn't do better when it was in theaters...it's mature, provocative, and compelling. You can read my original review by clicking here...or don't. See if I care. Another rewatched film--or shall we steal the car salesmen's parlance and call it "previously viewed?"--is Double Jeopardy, starring Tommy Lee Jones and Ashley Judd. For a while there, Judd was the go-to-gal for feisty women in jeopardy movies, and this one is actually enjoyable, with Jones as her parole officer chasing her down as she tries to track down the husband she supposedly killed. This film has an absolutely incredible scene where Jones and Judd escape from a sinking car that's one of the best uses of underwater photography I've ever seen in a movie. And yes, that includes Jaqueline Bissett in a wet t-shirt in The Deep.

I recently took my Netflix viewing to the next technological level: Streaming video (although this term sometimes becomes "steaming video" if you're watching a particularly awful movie). So far, my experience with it has been good. The quality has been good to excellent, and twice during films, the movie has paused while my Blu-ray player (through which the films stream to my TV via the Internet) has detected a higher download speed and--voila!--the quality of the picture improves. If you're thinking of doing this, I highly recommend it.

The first film I watched via streaming video was the gritty British thriller London to Brighton, about a young girl who murders the father of a crimelord. It's a well-done crime drama--why are the Brits so good at these?--with a bunch of no-name actors, all excellent in their roles. A warning that it is pretty gritty, but certainly worth your while.

No matter how you feel about Roman Polanski--and personally I feel he's a rapist and a child molester--the documentary Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired tells the story of how and why he got to where he is today--which is still in a jail cell in Switzerland. It's a fascinating look back at the case, including interviews with the prosecutor, Polanski's defense attorney, and the victim herself. The legal teams on both sides agreed to a plea bargain, at the behest of the victim, which had him plead guilty to one count of unlawful intercourse with a minor, with an agreed-upon sentence of time served (which included a 40-day stint in a state prison for psychiatric evaluation). You can argue--and I'd agree--that this was an incredibly light slap on the wrist for what he did, but it's what the victim wanted, to end the whole circus it had become. But the judge made it apparent he was going to renege on the agreed-upon deal and that's when Polanski took it on the lam. Again, right or wrong, this is a fascinating story, incredibly well-told in this documentary. (Today's New York Times has a good article on how the attitude towards Polanski and what he did was was very different back in the 1970s, especially in Los Angeles.)

Primal Fear is the film debut of Edward Norton, playing a Chicago choir boy who is accused of killing a high-ranking Catholic priest. Richard Gere plays his attorney, a media maven interested in another high-profile case notch for his belt. Laura Linney (I LOVE Laura Linney...there I said it.) is the prosecutor who--of course--had a fling with Gere. It's long and a bit tedious at times, but Norton is enjoyable as he chews up the scenery and Gere is actually likable, too.

That's it...we're officially on hold in the Netflix world.

The Netflix Chronicles Part Two: "The New Classics"...

There's been a lot of Facebook-ing lately of such things as "50 Favorite Films in 15 Minutes" and similar topics, urging Facebookians to quickly list--with as little thought involved as possible, because let's face it, Facebook thrives on as little thought as possible--their 50 favorite films. Lately, I've been renting films from Netflix that I remember "fondly" from previous viewings, to see if they hold up now. Guess what...most of them don't. I don't think I'll be making a Facebook list anytime soon.

I'll tell you up front that most of these are in the action thriller genre, I guess my default favorite Netflix category. I love both mindless and mindful action thrillers (today I watched Inside Man, a film I own, and it definitely falls into the latter category, a savvy, cagey thriller that makes you think). The films I rented from Netflix are: Kiss the Girls, Along Came a Spider, Rising Son, The Score, Heist, Payback, and The General's Daughter.

Kiss the Girls and Along Came a Spider are a set, two films featuring the great Morgan Freeman as police detective Alex Cross. Freeman certainly elevates the proceedings in both these films, and I'm sad that they only made two of them, because he's a bit too long in the tooth these days to be playing a credible, active cop. They're interesting to watch close together...both are intricate thrillers, the first concerning a serial killer who collects extraordinary women, the second involving a senator's young daughter being kidnapped. Spider is brought down by the incredibly boring performance of Monica Potter in the female lead, as an FBI agent whose job is to protect the kidnapped girl. The verdict: These two held up and were enjoyable in their later viewings, although neither of them are anywhere near "new classic" material.

I had somewhat fonder memories of Rising Sun, the Los Angeles based thriller which plumbed the depths of Japanese-American relations when a hooker is killed at a party celebrating a big international business deal. Sean Connery stars as the inscrutible Captain John Connor, a cop who is an expert on Japan. But the film--long and talky and directed by Philip Kaufman from the Michael Crichton novel--crashes and burns with the baffling casting of Wesley Snipes (who, in his defense, was red-hot at the time--1993--when the film was released), who is Kato to Connery's Green Hornet. Snipes is horrible as Web Smith, the detective assigned to the case. The verdict: In retrospect, I think my fondness is really for the Crichton book, not this miscast non-classic.

The Score is one of those intricate, twisty heist films that I love and with Robert DeNiro, Edward Norton, and Marlon Brando (in his final screen role), plus directed by Frank Oz, I remembered it as very entertaining. Sad to say my memory is slipping, because I found it tedious in a recent viewing. The battle between DeNiro and Norton to get at one final big score in the Canadian Customs House is interesting, but all the subplots are boring, including the Angela Bassett/DeNiro romance. Not a new classic, either, but extra points for shooting a movie in Canada, and actually setting the movie in Canada, and not pretending it's New York or some other American city.

Norton is also in the newer version of The Italian Job (based on a '70s film with Michael Caine), a movie that is pretty mindless. It involves a bunch of thieves (Mark Wahlberg, Seth Green, and Donald Sutherland) who make a huge gold score in Italy only to lose it to Norton as he double-crosses them (and kills Sutherland). Into the fray comes Sutherland's daughter, played by Charlize Theron, and she and Wahlberg and company cook up a scheme involving Mini-Coopers that gets back the gold from Norton in a rollicking chase through the Los Angeles subway and sewers. It's certainly mindless, and I remember not liking it that much the first go-round, but really liked it this time, undoubtedly because it didn't make me think very much.

Heist is another intricate...well, heist film. Starring Gene Hackman, Delroy Lindo, Danny Devito, and the very sexy Rebecca Pidgeon and written and directed by David Mamet, it involves another "old-timer" (Hackman) who wants one last big score before he sails away (with the comely Pidgeon cooing at his side--yes, we're going to milk the bird jokes, folks). It's surprisingly violent at times and always engrossing. A new classic? No, not quite, but a night well spent.

I wanted to see Payback again, because I had just read Darwyn Cooke's graphic novel version of Richard Stark's The Hunter, the first Parker novel on which it's based. Mel Gibson plays the downright surley anti-hero (here called Porter). I own the director's cut version of this film which came out a year or so ago, and it is a superior version, but I also wanted to compare the two, and unfortunately the DVD of Brian Helgeland's version doesn't include Mel Gibson's version. Both are enjoyable, but go for the director's cut...Porter is much meaner in it, and that's the way Stark (author Donald Westlake) would have wanted it.) No, neither are a new classic, but the director's cut comes close.

Finally, there's The General's Daughter, based on the novel by Nelson DeMille. It concerns John Travolta and Madeline Stowe investigating the murder of--you guessed it!--a general's daughter, who was also a commissioned officer. Travolta and Stowe come up against all kinds of bad guys in this army base-based movie, all well played by the likes of James Cromwell, James Woods, Timothy Hutton, and Clarence Williams III (Mod Squad!). It's kinda dirty and seamy, and very sweaty, as the action takes place down south, so you may need a shower or at least a towel handy...because it's not a new classic, either.

The outcome of all of this viewing (besides a sore butt, if you do it back-to-back-to-back)? The whole new classic idea is a bad one. Better to watch once and enjoy, rather than watch again and wonder. I should stick with my original premise: If a movie is good enough to buy on DVD after I see it in a theater, then it's good enough to watch again and again. That's the reason why none of the above films are in my collection.

Netflix Chronicles Part One: The Catch-up...

We've been so busy off doing that little Comic-Con square dance thing we do every year, that I've neglected to post my musings and--for what it's worth--reviews on my most recent viewings. Over the past few weeks, I've divided my Netflix choices into two categories: the usual new releases, and what I like to call--to borrow a phrase from TNT--"the new classics." This last category includes movies I saw at some point and have semi-fond memories of. And just like TNT, most of the "new classics" are anything but. "The new stinkers" might be more apropos.

So let's start with catching-up with the new releases, shall we?

New In Town is one of those "fish-out-of-water" rom-coms that have the protagonist--in this case, a not-aging-well Renee Zellweger--finding true love and happiness at what she thinks is the worst place in the world. Here she's a food company exec who goves to Bumf*ck, Minnesota from her cushy corporate gig in Florida in the middle of winter. There she meets and falls for the union exec at the plant, played by Harry Connick Jr. I hate to say it, because I liked her in some movies, but Renee has stayed a little too long at the cute blond chick table in movies. It's time she go off to cable TV land and plumb a meaty role as some kind of cop or psychic investigator or some such. Because she's getting a little stale in these cutsie comedies.

Killshot has an Elmore Leonard pedigree, but by now we know that for every Get Shorty or Out of Sight there has to be a Be Cool or The Big Bounce, as if there's some kind of Leonard's law of movie relativity. Leonard's a great mystery--and western--writer, but his stuff sometimes falls into the wrong hands. Witness Killshot, a boring lesson in the wrong hands, in this case director John Madden. (Or was this directed by ex-NFL announcer and coach John Madden? Sure feels that way.) Despite the presence of an entertaining Mickey Rourke and the always enjoyable Diane Lane, we're also "treated" to a strangely-sober Thomas Jane (who cleans this guy up for his movie and TV appearances?) and a hyperkinetic and hyper-annoying Joseph Gordon-Levitt. You'll cheer when he gets his comeuppance, IF you make it that far into this turkey about a couple who sees a killing and is hunted down by the killers so the killers can kill them and thus cause another killing. Don't kill yourself rushing over to Netflix to add this one to your queue.

I was soooo in the mood for a mindless action flick, and what could be more mindless than one starring a WWE wrestler, right? WRONG. 12 Rounds--directed by that magnificent action auteur Renny Harlin--is such a piece of utter crap that calling it mindless is insulting to every film that's truly mindless. Wrestler cum actor Jon Cena is a New Orleans cop who messes with an Irish terrorist (Seriously? Are there still Irish terrorists?) and puts him away. While doing so, he accidentally causes the death of the terrorist's girlfriend. So when said terrorist gets his GET OUT OF JAIL FREE card going, he comes back and kidnaps Cena's wife (played by Jericho's Ashley Scott--who seems to be making a career out of these low-rent action flicks--she was also in Walking Tall) and holds her for "12 rounds" of mayhem and tests that Cena has to resolve to get her back. By round 3 you're in "who gives a f*ck" mode. Cena as an actor makes a great tree stump, and the actor who plays the terrorist, Aiden Gillen, is supposed to be one of those affable/menacing types like the Joker, but you pay more attention to his incredibly-disappearing accent--one moment it's there, the next it isn't--then you do his menace (which is absent all the time). Transporter 3 proved you can take an actor primarily known for TV (Prison Break's Robert Knepper) and when given enough scenery to chew, a great villain is born. Too bad the WWE and Fox couldn't figure that out with this one...a good bad guy might have helped save it, just a little...or make it at least palatable beyond Round 3. (On a side note: Gillen IS an actor known for TV--The Wire--and he IS Irish. So go figure.)

Finally, I watched The International--the Clive Owen/Naomi Watts thriller about banking--eons ago. Or at least it seems that way (it was the end of June). Hey studios! The next time someone brings up a thriller about banking, just say no. Bankers may be the new evil in the world, but they're boring as hell. This film has one bravura moment: the shoot-out in the Guggenheim Museum in New York City. If you want to rent it just for that, I heartily recommend it. Otherwise just go visit your favorite sneering teller for your dose of evil bankers.

Netflix Chronicles: Fanboys and Bride Wars...

Two movies with such disparate themes as Fanboys and Bride Wars end up--upon viewing--to have one crucial thing in common: They both suck.

Seriously. Ever wonder why Fanboys languished on the Weinstein Brothers' shelf for close to two years? It sucks. The story of a group of rabid Star Wars fans who take their sick buddy cross country to try and steal a peek at the yet-to-be-released Episode I: The Phantom Menace has absolutely nothing going for it, not even the often-winsome Kristin Bell as the sole fangirl. The premise is all wrong: Anyone who's actually seen Phantom Menace knows it's not worthy of any such holy quest. But it's the script that bogs this movie down, down, down. Don't even bother.

I will fully admit that I can channel my feminine side and enjoy a good chick flick every now and again, especially one that features hot actresses with guns, guns, and more guns. With a title like Bride Wars, I expected the very hot Anne Hathaway to show off some of the action chops she displayed in Get Smart, and with that W-A-R-S in the title, perhaps even bigger guns, like bazookas and flame throwers. I knew the plot: two childhood friends have their dream weddings scheduled for the same day at the Plaza Hotel. I thought for sure this would involve all-out mayhem, action-galore, as the two battled it out in the Plaza, perhaps ending with the hotel being totally destroyed.

What a disappointment when I found out there were no guns involved. Not even one.

Oh, there's a little tussle at the end between Hathaway and co-star Kate Hudson (who, quite frankly, looks a bit too long in the tooth to be Anne's childhood friend and definitely plays the villain in this piece), but no shootin', no cussin', no "fire in the hole!" This film would have been so much better with guns. It should be a Hollywood law that any movie that has the word "wars" in it should have guns. Lots and lots of guns.

Netflix Chronicles...

It's time to get caught up on my latest round of Netflix viewing...

I was pleasantly surprised by Yes Man, the latest Jim Carrey comedy. I feel bad for Jim...he's certainly talented, but he has the propensity of becoming the next Robin Williams, a non-stop autobot comedian who can't stop mugging and cracking wise if his life depended on it. YM is the cute little tale of a man who always says no--in his work, his personal life and friendships--and has basically shut the world out. He attends a seminar run by a guru who teaches the positive aspects of saying yes, and Jim's life changes as he embraces this new concept. He also meets a cute woman (the extremely appealing Zoee Deschanel) who is his opposite, someone who is outgoing, adventurous, and very, very happy. Love happens as Jim's world opens up. This isn't a classic, and it's a little tame for someone like Carrey, but it's a pleasant enough little diversion, especially for those of us who sit at home alone and watch Netflix movies too many nights each week. (Ahem.)

Slumdog Millionaire--the epic story of one young man's rise from the slums of Bombay/Mumbai to win 50 million rupees on the Indian equivalent of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire--is a fascinating movie. It's beautiful--if a little rough at times--to watch. It's also incredibly romantic. But I'm not sure it's the best picture of the year. Danny Boyle as Best Director--maybe, though. Boyle's story-telling technique in this film--where each question asked on Millionaire results in a flashback that explains how an uneducated boy from some of the most horrendous slums on Earth can know the answer--is brllliant and propels the story forward. The leads--Dev Patel as Jamal and Freida Pinto as Latika--are immensely appealing, as are the kids that play them in various stages of their growing up. The Bollywood dance routine for the closing credits is great, so make sure to stay tuned through that, too.

Okay, I'm convinced Vicky Cristina Barcelona is Woody Allen's big-screen remake of the hit television series Three's Company. There's two women--Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Cristina (Scarlett Johanssen)--who visit Barcelona and fall (sort of) for the same guy (Javier Bardem). Hijinks ensue. Seriously, it's hard to take this film seriously, especially when Woody throws in Penelope Cruz as Bardem's ex, who is crazier than crap. And for this she won an Oscar? I don't get it, and unfortunately, I don't get Woody anymore, either. Other than the eye-candy of ScarJo and Cruz--and Hall isn't bad, either--there's not much to watch in this extended travelogue. I'm going to skip Woody's next film, Whatever Works, because I really don't need to see Larry David star in anything, but I was sufficiently intrigued with the preview of the film he did before this one (Cassandra's Dream) to add it to my Netflix queue.

I've Loved You So Long is--I'm guessing--the French equivalent of a chick flick. Starring the bilingual Kristin Scott Thomas as a woman who spent 15 years in prison and comes to live with her sister and her family, the film is long, sad, and a tearjerker. As the true story of why Thomas has been sent away unfolds, you realize what a tortured soul she is. It's compelling and watchable, but it's not a film I'd want to see again and again. Or even again. The French, they are a funny race: their chick flicks are very, very sad. No Kate Hudson, no shopaholic confessions. Over there, He's Just Not That Into You  because he's dead.

Netflix Chronicles: 6 more films...

I've been doing my "homework" and keeping up with my little red-and-white envelopes that arrive each week. However, I've been remiss once again in chronicling my thoughts on what I've been watching. Let's catch up, shall we?

Nothing But the Truth is one of those "ripped from the headlines" stories, but it's a damn fine one. It's ostensibly the story of Valerie Plame, the real-life CIA operative outed by the Bush administration, but this version has a number of twists and turns which make the story oh so much more compelling. Writer/director Rod Lurie gets one of the best performances I've seen out of eye candy/sometime action star Kate Beckinsale as the reporter--Rachel Armstrong--who writes the story on soccer mom/secret agent Vera Farmiga. When she's arrested by gung-ho U.S. Attorney Matt Dillon and sent to jail for refusing to reveal her source, Armstrong's life goes to hell, losing her husband and son, and a whole lot else. We learn why at the end she so zealously guards her source  in a neat twist. The film also contains an excellent performance by Alan Alda as Armstrong's attorney. This one is definitely worth a look: it's engrossing, well-written and media-savvy.

Last Chance Harvey pairs the unlikely duo of Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson as a romantic couple. In London for the wedding of his enstranged daughter, Harvey (Hoffman) loses his job and watches his only child being given away by her stepdad (James Brolin). Thompson plays an airport information gatherer who meets Harvey when both are at low tide. It's the last love story for either character and Hoffman and Thompson are so charming--as is wonderful London as a backdrop--that you root for them the entire time.

Keanu Reeves, Jennifer Connelly and Will Smith's son remade the classic science fiction film The Day the Earth Stood Still. Why, I'll never know. As wooden as Reeves' performance, if you really feel you HAVE TO see this, just rent the original and bask in its 1950s Cold War zeitgeist.

What Doesn't Kill You concerns two small-time career criminals, Mark Ruffalo and Ethan Hawke, both of whom do a long stretch in the state pen. Ruffalo comes out and tries to get his life together, Hawke--his best friend--tries to convince him to stay a criminal, for at least one big last score. WDKY is a bit preachy at times, and comes off like an extended commercial for Alcoholics Anonymous, but it's still a compelling and well-acted film.

Somewhere along the line I got this memory of Peter Bogdanovich's Nickelodeon being a definitive movie about the early days of filmmaking in the United States. There are elements of that thread in it, but boy...is it a stinker. Made at a time when Bogdanovich was the current Golden Boy (coming off The Last Picture Show, Paper Moon, and What's Up Doc?), Nickelodeon features Burt Reynolds, Ryan and Tatum O'Neill, Brian Keith and others in a film that should have been called Slapstick, because that's the road it goes down. The new DVD release contains both the theatrical release (in color) and the "director's cut" in black and white. I chose the latter and probably wasted even more precious minutes of my life that I'll never get back.

Finally, Mickey Rourke was robbed. The Wrestler is a wonderful film, directed by Darren Aronofsky, chronicling the fading career of one of the '80s biggest stars of the ring, Randy "The Ram" Robinson. Reduced to high school gym weekend wrestling matches, sad autograph signings, and a grocery store day-job, Rourke is a tragic figure. Estranged from his only daughter, Evan Rachel Wood, and in love with an aging stripper (Maris Tomei), The Ram's problems are only beginning. All those years of physical and drug abuse are taking their toll. Everyone--especially the frequently naked Tomei--is wonderful, and Rourke should have won the Oscar for this film, not the other guy whom I've already forgotten.

Netflix Chronicles: Bolt (2008)

I have been working way too much the last two weeks on a major project (a 224-page book for my work), and Sunday night I decided to just chill for an hour or two and watch a movie. Unfortunately none of what I had from Netflix turned me on very much, but I popped in one of them, Bolt, and was blown away.

Bolt is the best non-Pixar CG-animated film I've ever seen. I know, the Ice Age movies are fun, Shrek, too, and I'm sure all those penguin ones are great, also, but nothing compares to Pixar, except, ironically in this case, Disney. With Bolt they finally did a wonderful computer-animated film.

Bolt is the story of a dog who acts in a TV adventure show with his human, Penny. She's an adventurous young girl, using technology to try and locate her scientist dad. Said dad did some work on the doggy, turning him into a super-pup. Bolt has all kinds of powers, including heat vision and a "super-bark" (ala Black Bolt from the comics), but it's all fictional. Only Bolt doesn't know that. The only way the TV show producers can get him to act natural is to make him believe he has the powers and is always saving Penny.

The ruse soon ends and Bolt finds himself in the real world, befriended by a cat named Mittens and a fanboy hamster named Rhino, who happens to watch way too much TV and might just be Bolt's biggest fan (especially among hamsters). The three of them travel cross-country to get back to Penny. Along this incredible journey, Bolt learns the truth about his "powers" and becomes a real dog, but that doesn't stop him from finding his human. The story is funny, fast, and touching and skewers everything from the film/TV industry (quite nicely) to animal/human relations, to how pets interact in our lives. As Bolt becomes more like the dog he really is, you grow to love him even more (yes, I'm aware of the fact that he's a fictional character).

Bolt also contains--opens with, in fact--one of the most exciting and fast-moving action sequences I've ever seen in a movie, live-action or animated. It's so well-done and beautifully choreographed that it's worth watching again and again. Even if you're on the fence about an animated movie and you've brought this one home for the kiddies, pop it in and watch the first 10 minutes or so. I guarantee you'll be hooked.

The animation itself is Pixar-worthy, from the way it moves to the character design to the textures (I've never seen such realistic hair on an animated human before as Penny's). Even the unfortunate continued use of Hollywood talent for voices--in this case John Travolta as Bolt, the overly-exposed Miley Cyrus as Penny, and Susie Essman as the cat, Mittens--is pitch perfect and effective. The best parts of the film were the charm of Bolt's animation, the pigeons--numerous trios of them, all with their locales firmly in beak--and the hamster, Rhino, a TV-stimulated rodent who spends most of his time in a little plastic ball rolling around. Voiced by animation story artist Mark Walton, there isn't a funnier laugh-out loud character in ANY film in recent memory.

I sealed Bolt back up in its little red and white Netflix envelope, but someday very soon, I'm going to buy my very own copy on Blu-ray. This doggy is a keeper.

Netflix marathon!

I keep telling myself I'll watch a few Netflix movies, then I'll blog my thoughts on them, saving them up for maybe 3 at a time. HA! According to "Rental Activity" on their website--and my list of films on this here blog thingie--I'm TEN films behind. Lucky you! Here we go...don't worry, I'll keep them short.

I'd like to tell you that Elegy, starring Ben Kingsley and Penelope Cruz, was an enjoyable 2 hours spent in front of the teevee, but it's a bit too depressing to admit that. Much as the thought of a movie about a smart, sexy, exotic, sophisticated young woman falling in love with a sour old fart warms the cockles of this sour old fart's heart, this adaptation of a Philip Roth novel--with a screenplay by no less than Nicholas Meyer--is as serious as a heart attack. Seems author, critic, and professor David Kepesh (Kingsley) has a habit of having sex with his students--but it's okay, because he waits until they're done with his class before he hooks up with them. Kepesh is terrified about marriage and commitment, but falls hard for Cruz's beguiling Consuelo, who seems beyond her 24 years. Both Kingsley and Cruz play younger than they really are--Cruz's character is supposed to be 24, Kingsley keeps mentioning they're "30-odd years" apart. More like 40, I'd say. But Kingsley can't commit and he loses her, until she comes back with startling news, 2 years later. With Patricia Clarkson as the other student professor Kingsley has had a long (20-year) affair with, and Dennis Hopper as his earthy poet friend, who essentially plays Dennis Hopper.

Rachel Getting Married was a little too edgy and wiry for me to get into. I appreciated Anne Hathaway and the grossly-overlooked Rosemarie DeWitt as warring sisters on the latter's wedding day, but the rehearsal dinner, wedding, and reception scenes--so off-the-cuff and improvised they hurt--left me all jangly and nervous. If you cringe easily at things like The Office, keep in mind this is no comedy...and you WILL cringe.

The almost polar opposite of Rachel Getting Married is Happy-Go-Lucky, a wonderful little indie film from Great Britain, which tells the tail of primary school teacher Poppy (Sally Hawkins). Pretty much nothing puts a dent in Poppy's mood, until her irresistable force meets an unmovable object, in the form of her misogynistic and borderline psychotic driving teacher. Along the way, we see how 30-something, normal Brits live, work, and play with their mates (as opposed to say, Jude Law in Alfie, or Jason Statham in The Bank Job). It sounds boring, but it's not...it's wonderful and so is Hawkins (although you might find her a bit annoying at first...hang in there.)

Tell No One is a sleek little French thriller based on one of the best-selling novels of author Harlan Coben. Eight years ago, a doctor's wife is killed under mysterious circumstances at their summer home in the woods. The doc (Francois Cluzet) is suspected of the murder, but never tried. Then the husband starts to get mysterious e-mails about her, including a link to a surveillance tape showing her alive and well. Could it be true? The tortured search for her and the truth is compelling and exciting, even with subtitles.

Shifting gears, Sex Drive (gears...get it?) is one of those teen coming-of-age comedies, featuring a young protagonist (Josh Zuckerman) driving all the way from Chicago to Knoxville, TN for a sure thing: a guaranteed-to-get-laid date with an Internet hottie. (To prove the level of hotness, she's played by Katrina Bowden, who plays Cerie on 30 Rock). Along the way, he finds true love with his best friend (Amanda Crew). What separates this from other drivel like it is the fat, faithful, funny-looking friend (Clark Duke) isn't the loser he usually is in this type of film. He's funny, charming, and a stud. Also making this a cut above: their trip to Amish country with Seth Green as an Amish guy who helps them out. Along for the ride is James Marsden, as a not-to-type churlish older brother. It's not Schindler's List, folks, but it is funny and effective. (For the record, that's the first time I've ever written the word churlish. Gold star!)

Wish I could say the same about Role Models, which features Paul Rudd and Seann William Scott as two guys forced into serving court-appointed public service time with a Big Brother type children's group. Each of them get a kid to mentor: Scott's is a savvy, swear-filled 10-year-old who is aged beyond his years, Rudd's is a teenager lost in role-playing and carrying a sword (played by Superbad's McLovin, Christopher Minzt-Plasse). Elizabeth Banks is absolutely wasted in this as the girlfriend/attorney who leaves Rudd, and "Sturdy Wings" founder Jane Lynch needs to start playing some different roles, instead of the overly confident, dimly in-charge role she has here (there's also the usual touch with her of someone who is sexually voracious). I suppose this is supposed to be heart-warming with a side of uplifting, but I found it tedious and a bit boring. I dunno...I thought comedies were supposed to make you laugh? The one scene I found funny--Rudd orders coffee in a Starbucks like setting and decimates the barista--I saw on TV as Rudd made the talk show rounds.

Body of Lies is one of those Ridley Scott/Russell Crowe collaborations with Leonardo DiCaprio thrown in for good measure. It has something to do with the CIA and Leo undercover in Jordan and Crowe putting on weight and nailing the perfect accent for his character, a sleazy handler. I mentioned tedious and boring already didn't I? Okay...let's see...I found this difficult and unexciting. How's that?

I'm happy to say that the Robert DeNiro in What Just Happened? looks much more like the DeNiro we know and love, than the bloated, read-the-cards-and-get-paid version that appeared in one of last year's worst films, Righteous Kill. DeNiro plays Hollywood producer Ben, whose juggling a number of films--including one about to start filming with a beligirent Bruce Willis--and a number of ex-wives and children. Based on the book by producer Art Linson, DeNiro and company are great in this film that reeks of modern-day Hollywood, in a good bad way.

Finally, there's Flash of Genius, the true story of the man who invented the intermittent windshield wiper. Can it get more thrilling than that? Don't laugh, this is a wonderful film starring Greg Kinnear as Robert Kearns, professor and inventor, whose long courtroom battle against Ford Motors for stealing his design decimates his life, costing him his wife (the always great Lauren Graham). I think i also used engrossing in this post already, but screw it...this one IS engrossing, too. Remember when Kinnear hosted Talk Soup on E! WHO KNEW?

I also rewatched Transporter 3 (which I reviewed here when I first saw it in the theater), just because I needed a dumb action film and it was this month's Jason Statham film from Lionsgate. (I belong to the Jason Statham/Lionsgate Film of the Month Club. This month's film is Crank 2: High Voltage, in theaters now!)

Netlfix Madness!

That's right folks! We're clearing out all of our most recent Netflix viewings in one mammoth post, right here, right now! And you're the lucky recipient of SAVINGS! SAVINGS! SAVINGS!

Well, not really...however I may save you some pain in viewing or in choosing the next thing to view on movie night. Let's jump right in, shall we?

I sure am glad I pissed away my free "reward" from the cable company--a movie rental on the house--on Pineapple Express, another crappy Judd Apatow produced movie. Here's my bold statement (or three): I don't get Apatow, I don't get Seth Rogen, and I think I'll just quit them. There I said it: Judd Apatow: I quit you. Use your own judgment, folks. I'm just an old fart with barely a sense of humor left in my ragged bag of bones. You might like this 420-friendly tale of a process server and his pot seller, whom he comes to realize is his best friend.

It could be because I just feel like crying a lot lately (must be that ragged part mentioned in the previous paragraph), but I defy anyone to watch the excellent Flash of Genius and NOT cry. It's the story of Robert Kearns who, sometime in the '60s, invented the intermittent windshield wiper blade. Sounds thrilling, doesn't it? Actually, it is, because it's a tale of one man (played wonderfully by Greg Kinnear) who won't give up after his invention is ripped off by Ford. He pretty much loses everything, including his wife, Phyllis (played by the also wonderful Lauren Graham) and his kids. The kids come back to help him try the case himself, and it's one of those David vs. Goliath stories that is never about the money, but simply about giving credit where credit is due. Best moment: When Kearns brings Charles Dickens to the courtroom.

The remake of 3:10 to Yuma a year or two back proved the Western is still a viable film genre, and Ed Harris' Appaloosa continues that thread. Harris directs and stars as a laconic lawman who, along with the help of sidekick Viggo Mortensen brings law back to a town controlled by an evil landowner (Jeremy Irons). Renee Zellwegger is the love interest, and provides a different slant on romance, old West style, as a woman just trying to get by the best way she can. Beautifully shot and sparse on words, Appaloosa isn't 3:10, but it's close.

The Deal is a movie I wouldn't have touched based on its description, but once William H. Macy was mentioned--as both co-writer and star--I was there. It's about a dissolute and suicidal screenwriter who wangles his way back into Hollywood by lying about a big star's involvement with his nephew's screenplay. Along the way he picks up studio person Meg Ryan (looking more like the old Meg Ryan we remember from When Harry Met Sally, but, you know...old) and gets to make the little arthouse movie he wants when the big star is kidnapped while on location. Macy is great--Ryan, not so much, she's a bit over the top--and makes the whole thing worthwhile.

Burn After Reading is another wonky Coen Brothers film, augmented considerably by the star power of Brad Pitt and George Clooney. It's convoluted plot would take up way too much space for me to even try to explain, but I found the film enjoyable and worth seeing, although it's no Fargo. And that's the main problem with it: In Fargo, you liked Frances McDormand as Sheriff Marge...here she's a greedy, shallow woman with no self-esteem and zero likeability. Clooney likewise is a womanizing scumbag, John Malkovich a CIA prig, Pitt a moron. By the time the movie ends, you don't really care if any of them are dead or alive. You can't build a movie--or TV series--around people who inspire loathing, folks

Finally there's Pride and Glory, a New York City cop drama starring Ed Norton, Colin Farrell, Noah Emmerich, and Jon Voight, as a family of coppers involved in a major scandal that threatens to not only tear apart the NYPD but their family, too.  Other than star power, the movie never rises above network TV show status. Voight and Norton are both particularly good in it, and I think the latter is one of the best actors working right now, even if he sometimes has questionable taste in projects. This one is better than a lot of recent NYC-based cop stories (especially the righteously crappy Righteous Kill), but it's still kind of blah.

Pick wisely, folks!

The Last Enemy (2008)

The Last Enemy is a BBC mini-series which aired on PBS stations in the U.S. last fall, as part of their new "Masterpiece Contemporary" series. It's a science fiction-tinged story about the UK in the near future and an ID initiative called T.I.A (Total Information Awareness). This new form of tracking people ties into Great Britain's current penchant for surveillance, which presently includes over 5 million CCTV (closed circuit TV) cameras, which amounts to about one camera per 12 people. Not so science-fictiony now, eh?

The 5-part mini-series stars Benedict Cumberbatch and Max Beesley as the Ezard brothers, Stephen and Michael. As the series begins, Michael is killed in Afghanistan, where he worked as a doctor in a refugee camp. Stephen, a brilliant mathemetician, returns form China to London for his brother's funeral and falls madly in love with the sister-in-law he never knew existed, Dr. Yasim Anwar (Anamaria Marinca). Stephen's return to London is closely monitored by the government, which enlists his aid in helping to convince the public that their new heavy-duty identification database--licensed to a company OUTSIDE the government--is a good idea. Stephen accepts an offer to refund his research in China for the next 3 years in exchange for his candid explanation and endorsement of the T.I.A program.

And then it all falls apart.

Lurking around in all of this is David Russell, an ex-British Intelligence officer, who may or may not have lost a daughter linked to the refugee camp Michael Ezard worked in. Russell is played by Robert Carlyle, and sometimes his Scottish accent is so inpenetrable, I was tempted to turn on the subtitles. The whole series gets bolloxed up (to badly use a Brit phrase) between science and medicine, with people in the refugee camp dying from a bad batch of vaccine, which may or may not be intentional.

The bottom line on The Last Enemy--now out on DVD and part of my Netflix viewings in the past 2 weeks--is it's a 5-hour mini-series that's about an hour too long. It goes off the rails in episode 4 when Stephen's ID is cancelled, showing just how torturous an ordeal that can be in the UK, at least in this near future tale. Stephen's trials and tribulations trying to hock a clock and get money for blood seem like filler. If the story was tighter and better-told, it would have been more enjoyable, but here's the other rub: This is a cautionary tale and in the end, this dystopian tale of the near future and the rigors and wrongs of a nation under constant surveillance defeats its own preachy premise. It ends on such a down note, my response was, "I spent 5 hours on this?" While it's well-acted and shot, in the end The Last Enemy is really it's own worst enemy.

One stray thought: Robert Carlyle, with his accent reined in a bit, would make a perfect new version of The Equalizer, if someone wanted to give up the ghost on the movie version that seems to never be coming out. Carlyle is a wormy little guy, and cleaned up and put in a suit like Edward Woodward, he'd be the perfect against-type casting for a revival of the TV series, set once again in New York City. Hell, I'll even give you the first episode's plot: A group of ripped-off investors pay The Equalizer to dump Bernie Madoff off the balcony of his kajillion-dollar penthouse. How's that for torn-from-the-headlines justice?