Little Fuckers

Little Fuckers

by Who Cares

A punch line should not be made into a movie, much less several movies. The first one was mediocre okay in that Ben Stiller kind of way that most of his movies are, but I don't think the creators were relying solely on that stupid name to sell it.

The Spy Who Shagged Me, which really means The Spy Who Fucked Me, was another, but at least it was a little witty. Is there really a surname Focker? I've never seen it.

Just stop.

True Grit

True Grit

by Joel and Ethan Coen

I've almost convinced myself that the Coen brothers are the Barnum & Bailey of the film world. Most of their movies are genuinely about America and the types of characters found in the American landscape, of all eras, and most of the movies are about hucksters, suckers and fools. I think it was Barnum who said, "There's a sucker born every minute."

Almost every movie they make the characters are foolish, simple, unable to think. Brad Pitt in Burn After Reading who doesn't understand that his demand for a reward is blackmail. The husband in Fargo who hires someone to kidnap his wife so they can demand ransom from his father in law and then give him the money. This list of numbskulls in the Coen brothers movies is a very long one.

After Burn After Reading I realized that they are mocking Americans for the most part and this is what is particularly fun about their movies. They're very sophisticated ways of showing the tea baggers for what they really are.

But after watching True Grit, which doesn't seem to mock anyone, but has the same feel, I think there's something else that they do, which is that they don't let their characters change. From a writing point of view, which is what this blog is ostensibly about, this is an error according to the Hollywood 3 act formula. And generally I believe people read, see movies, etc., because they want to see a character change. It's the nature of living and being able to converse. We talk about what things happened today or yesterday, but it's all about the change that took place. We don't talk or want to hear about the fact that you urinated when you woke, unless your urine was blue or red.

What the Coens do is take characters and put them through the wringer of PLOT and then have them come out exactly the same character-wise as they were before the plot took place. They learn nothing. They change in absolutely no way whatsoever. In True Grit, the only change that takes place is that she loses her lower arm to a snake bite. But as a person she is exactly the same person as she was before the movie began. If you asked her what did she learn from the experience she would not say, "how to depend on someone," or "love," or "killing a man isn't easy," or "forgiveness," she would say that, "a rifle has a powerful back kick."

Likewise Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges in probably what is his best performance ever, I think, and better than the drunk Bad Blake for which he won the Oscar), could not point to a single thing of the heart that he might have learned and in that character's case, there probably isn't even a single fact that he learned, since he knew pretty much everything when the story began.

I'm guessing that in the John Wayne version, there was some sort of emotional connection made between the girl and the man which would be the 'change' that we want to see. The reluctant Rooster comes to care for the young girl with the snake bite. In this version, it's not there. He races across the territory to get her some help and after the horse drops dead he carries her the rest of the way (by this time she's passed out). But his only thought was "I'm getting old." Maybe that's what he learned.

I think this is what defines the Coens' style and what sets them apart from Hollywood. There is no sentimental mush in their movies; no false emotion. My favorite line from all of their movies is the last one in Fargo, "I just don't understand."

Troy/Tron

Troy

by David Benioff

That's a picture of Brad Pitt as Achilles having sex with Garrett Hedlund as Patroclus.

Not really. That's just the greatest male ass having pretend sex with a nameless tart. That's why Troy is one of the worst movies to ever glorify homosexuality without ever having a homosexual moment.

<---- This picture over here is about the closest they come to being in love and/or fucking. Does that look like the face of someone who is in love? Honestly. The original Troy from 2800 years ago or so was called The Iliad and its first line is something like "Come o muse and tell the tale of the wrath of Achilles." The story is about his wrath and rage and the reason for it. And the reason for it is that his lover is killed. Shakespeare had the decency to allow Achilles and Patroclus some bedroom time (albeit off stage), but this movie turned Patroclus into his "cousin" and the reason for his wrath is never explained, since Patroclus (in the movie) steals Achilles armor to pretend he's Achilles and is killed by Hector and his own foolishness.

In the original poem, Patroclus is Achille's companion. He lends Patroclus his armor and Patroclus, disobeying his instructions, leads the Myrmidons to Troy and is killed by Hector. Achilles only joins the fight when his companion is killed, and kills Hector in revenge. He desecrates Hector's body. The ghost of Patroclus returns and asks Achilles to bury Hector, but he refuses. Finally Zeus himself intervenes by sending Priam into the Greek's camp where Priam finally is able to retrieve his son's body by commiserating with Achilles on their respective losses, one a son and the other a "companion."

But the movie itself seems to revel in the male body without going into the greater theme of love. The war itself is caused by possession (of the world's most beautiful woman Helen, who Shakespeare depicted as a silly little girl who ogled the soldiers as they went to kill each other, having no idea that this war was all over her. (Sarah Palin anyone?)). But Achilles, who is the greatest but most reluctant soldier and is fated to die if he kills Hector, does not enter the game until love (the loss of love) propels him to meet his fate.

Tron

The only reason I am comparing these two movies is simply coincidence of titles, that Garrett Helund was in a movie called Troy and then one called Tron.

"Tron 2" was a piece of Disneyland garbage. And it's no small wonder with all these people given writing credits.

Edward Kitsis		(screenplay) &
Adam Horowitz		(screenplay)
Edward Kitsis		(story) &
Adam Horowitz		(story) and
Brian Klugman		(story) &
Lee Sternthal		(story)
Steven Lisberger		(characters) and
Bonnie MacBird		(characters)

Enough is enough. Sooner or later Hollywood is going to be giving credits to writers for coming up with words like "and" or "with." Characters? If only there was one. But I guess you can't expect much human relationship or characterization in a movie where everyone is trapped inside the circuitry of a motherboard of a computer.

Still when those people were miniaturized and went inside the body of the that man in "Fantastic Voyage" they were able to make it a compelling human story.

But Disney is such a scourge and a terrible influence in Hollywood. As the Weakest Link lady once said, "We are neither amused nor surprised by your idiocy." 3D doesn't save any movie.

Manohla Dargis

This is a review of a reviewer. She is the worst writer to ever work for The Times. She is not the worst reviewer. That title belongs to me. And possibly, an even worse reviewer than I, is Armand White of The New York Press.

I almost never look at bylines and it wasn't until I had to start re-reading certain movie reviews that I realized they were always written by this woman. Now, unfortunately, I look at the byline first, before I allow myself to read a critic's review in the Times.

Why? I wish I knew for sure. Newspaper writing is so much more different than prose writing, at least for me. I don't want to have to go back and start over and try to find "the point" of a newspaper article. For novel or short story writing I can accept experimentation, like this new novel, "C" or anything by Thomas Pynchon, Roland Barthes, James Joyce, etc. But a critique should be clear and it should be about the movie -- not about some point you want to make.

That, I think, is a huge problem in critical writing these days: the reviewer often talks back to the filmmaker instead of accepting what the filmmaker has done and then writing about whether or not he or she has achieved his or her purpose. The film is not supposed to be about the critic's slant on life, and Manohla Dargis has a way of injecting her particular take on life into a film which has no interest in her. Armand White does the same thing but he's a much more obvious idiot.

Her review, for example, of this year's "Dumb and Dumberer" which is called, "Due Date." At least a quarter of the review (the only part I read) is given over to one scene where Robert Downey punches an obnoxious kid in the stomach. Then she goes on to talk about "The Hangover" and other irrelevant and the primarily political reasons why you should not like the movie. That is not a review of the movie, it's an ad for sentimentalism. Hate the movie because its characters are bad "men." Only like movies where the characters behave like good neurotics that are ultimately lovable.

She's also a bad writer. And it's no surprise to me that she comes from Hollywood.

The Tourist

The Tourist

originally written by Jerome Salle as the foreign film "Anthony Zimmer." Rewritten by Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, Christopher McQuarrie and Julian Fellowes.

It may be obvious that I like to use images that aren't from the film. That's Johnny Depp who women find irresistible for some reason that escapes me. He always looks scruffy to me and I hate tattoos.

Florian HvD was the writer and director of the great film "The Lives of Others." This is his first film since then and for people who like characters rather than effects or stick figures pretending to be characters, this is a wonderful piece. I'll have to wait to see how closely it mirrors "Anthony Zimmer," to see how much original work they did, but whether it sticks closely to the original or is its own movie, creatively it's first rate. The big news of the day is that it's a box office bomb, but I think the word of mouth is going to be so good it will find its legs. The nonsense of opening weekend b.o. is just that: nonsense. Hollywood has so totally corrupted the industry (it was probably always corrupt anyway, so it's not a great loss), that it's no longer relevant whether or not the story and creativity is any good. It's simply that Angelina and Johnny didn't bring in the box office numbers they wanted.

And probably it's not true that there wasn't a time when the content of a film mattered more than it does today. I can think of lots of movies that were about something: great thoughtful ideas, or deep studies of character: The Godfather, Three Women, McCabe and Mrs. Miller, Bonnie & Clyde. Entertainment doesn't have to be stupid, computer generated, or simply a tool of capitalism. It can be successful and smart.

I think that's what The Tourist ultimately is and I think the longer view of the box office will prove them wrong (not that it will change anything about the way Hollywood and the media cover movies). That it's written by foreigners and based on a foreign movie still proves the point that Hollywood writers write crap or at least that the better material rarely comes from that point on the globe.

I Love You Philip Morris

I Love You Phillip Morris

by John Requa and Glenn Ficarra

As a script, it's a bit uneven, though the writers make no mistakes that I could find. The problem with the writing is merely that it's based on a book which has the freedom to travel anywhere, unlike movies which are required (by us viewers) to feed our need to follow the vacation schedule that Hollywood has laid out for us.

That structure is the 3 act movie, summed up by someone as Boy Meets and Gets Girl, Boy Loses Girl, Boy Gets Girl. That's the male version of the 3 act movie. The female version is Boy Meets and Thinks he Gets Girl, Boy Thinks he Loses Girl, Boy Thinks He Gets Her Back When He Had Her All Along and Finally gets in her panties, which is all she wanted in the first place.

This movie's structure is more like one of eight acts. Boy has girl but boy wants boy, Boy Leaves Girl and Gets a boy that he can show off to the world of Miami Beach (the Brazilian boy pictured above whose name is Rodrigo Santoro), Boy loses boy to AIDS and goes to prison. Boy meets another boy. Boy and boy engage in a little "Bent"-type letter sex, and spend the rest of the movie trying to get in and out and back to prison, in order to be together.

The movie is wonderful, and Jim Carrey (I always felt he had a bit of the gay in him) is even better than he was in Truman. Mr. Carrey is one of those actors who has a face that expresses itself in spite of himself. I've met a few actors with this ability and the only thing they have to do is turn it off. In Truman, he turned it off for most of the movie, but there were moments when the giant teeth and enormous cheek bones overtook the movie. In this, he holds it back completely. He never (and this is a real accomplishment for Jim Carrey) hams it up. He's always been the Lucille Ball of movies and the television show which launched him, but it took Lucille Ball her entire life to play an unhappy person (a bag lady) and she couldn't even do it without breaking into a joke here and there. In this, he's not unhappy, but he never goes into that jokey stupid place he has. This time, I think the director needs to be thanked, or maybe Jim Carrey himself.

There aren't really that many jokes or witticisms but it's, improbably a perfect movie and probably more truthful about gay love than any other movie in recent memory, except "Howl" the movie about the poem that Allan Ginsberg wrote, another movie with James Franco.

I give this movie 4 stars. I give Jim Carrey 5 stars for not trying to turn in a sympathetic Oscar hungry performance. He gets it all right. Ewan, I've seen better, but I love him so much I can't give him anything less than 4.

127 Hours

127 Hours by Danny Boyle and Simon Beaufoy.

Of course since this isn't a Hollywood movie it's outstanding. I read while I was on vacation that people were vomiting and fainting but this could only have been an exaggeration as there is nothing more gruesome than one's imagination. People who faint at the sight of blood won't want to see this. But the script does an excellent job of preparing you.

The documentary "Touching The Void" was actually more disturbing, though it was more of a Nat Geo TV re-enactment. This is very much a movie -- both tragic and moving because it earns its happiness. By the time he gets to his 120th hour (I don't know how long it actually took to amputate and the movie doesn't tell us), you feel as trapped as he is, and almost angry at the arm that had the stupidity to get stuck.

Some great moments -- J.F.'s looked of surprise and disbelief when his hand first gets pinned between the rock and the wall of the canyon. It's always interesting when a character doesn't act like we expect them to and the look of this cock-certain boy was one of, "This doesn't happen to me." In fact, it's his pride that makes it a tragedy (all tragedies for that matter) and one of the greater parts of the movie is when he comes to realize how this accident is really more of a destiny he created. Another wonderful surprise is the moment when his forearm actually pops off and J.F. realizes that he's freed himself at great cost.

Because he knew after the first 24 hours that his hand was lost (his thumb, which was the only part he could see, was black), he is unsentimental about cutting it off -- just frustrated because his only tool is a dull blade. But the finish of the movie is what really makes it a great one; the 3rd act, as they put it and I would even add, the second part of the 3rd act. Cutting off his arm is what he does to save himself and how he gets out of his lowest point (he was nearly dead). But it's the final lines of the movie that are really moving: "Help me," he screams, but it's a scream for help that is absolutely triumphant.

4 1/2 stars

Love and Other Drugs

Love and Other Drugs

by Charles Randolph, Edward Zwick and Marshall Herskovitz

Hollywood writers love to create characters that are supposed to be obnoxious but ultimately lovable, who are actually obnoxious and not lovable, except in Hollywood movies. There's two in this one; actually there's anywhere between five and ten, but this brief review will only talk about the two leads. Most of the supporting characters, especially the brother, are also awful people.

Anne Hathaway comes in fairly late in the movie. She is an obnoxious patient of a doctor who Jake, completely unconvincing as a pharmaceutical salesman, is trying to persuade to prescribe his drug for depression instead of Prozac, a rival's drug. I can't remember which drug it was but if they mentioned the name Pfizer anymore I was going to scream. At one point I thought they bankrolled the movie.

Anne Hathaway is into pharmaceuticals because, we must presume, she has early onset Parkinson's so she has to take a lot of drugs. That doesn't explain what she finds so fascinating about the pharmaceutical industry but never mind, her expertise gives the writers a lot of opportunity to grandstand.

The movie is worst, like all Hollywood movies, when it tries to be "funny" or "serious" or "political" or "sexy". Hollywood writers need to stop trying to be anything because you get the feeling that someone, somewhere, is saying, "Ok it's gotten too serious we need a funny moment." Cue stupid brother. Or, "we need some kind of plot device," so let's have a fellow salesman punch Jake in the gut and then tell him the various medical things that are happening to his body.

It's best when it simply unfolds. Had they simply attempted to tell the story of a doomed woman trying to let herself be vulnerable to another human being, it might have been a fairly decent pic. As it is, several people left; some girls seemed to love it; another woman made a kind of gagging sound during Anne Hathaway's orgasm; and I gave it 2 stars of 5, mostly for Jill Clayburgh's last appearance in a movie.

2 Stars