PUBLIC ENEMIES (2009, dir. Michael Mann)

There was a time when I loved film. I really loved going to see films. Reviewing them. Talking about them. Allowing them to permeate my life. Nowadays I don't enjoy them at all. I pretty much avoid seeing movies in the theater at all costs. They've lost all luster and mystery to me. Apparently, Michael Mann feels the same way.

Ah Michael Mann. Remember the last time we hung out? That was fun. Looking pretty good, man. You've switched out Colin Farrell's obscene facial hair for a clean-shaven ageless Johnny Depp. When was the last time he was clean-shaven? Cry Baby? Who can say for sure... because we have no way of knowing how old Johnny Depp actually is. He could be aging backwards as a result of drinking the blood of infants.

Once again your script is abysmal. Horrific. Like soap opera quality dialogue. Little differentiates your movies from the Spider-Man franchise. Except that your villians are usually the good guys. Or at least better looking than the good guys. Hey, dude. When are you gonna stop shooting on DV? I found myself thinking during this movie (which I had A LOT of free time during since it was 2.5 hours long) "Wow. Remember that movie Tadpole?" I never saw it. But it was such a big deal for about a week because it was the first feature length DV film to be distributed by a studio. Who knew that several years later we'd be watching Michael Mann's latest opus and it would look like a home movie shot by my dad with my brother doing production design.

A DV period piece? Have we just stopped caring? There was nothing transporting about the look of this movie. It was all very 21st century with nice Depression-era costumes. And a train. During some of those audacious Dillinger escape plans (zing!) I was wondering "What Best Western did they shoot this at?" "This looks like a movie I could've made with my friends if my friends were all enormously famous people." What is up with Christian Bale and his "I'm-the-most-serious-person-for-miles" Bale-ness? I actually started laughing when he shot BabyFace Nelson and the camera held on his "no facial movement whatsoever" face because all I could think was "DO I TRASH YOUR LIGHTS?! FUCK!!" I thought this meltdown on the Terminator: Salvation set was the most entertaining thing Christian Bale had done since American Psycho. I mean, can you name a movie in the last nine years when he got as emotional as he did when he was screaming "IT'S FUCKING DISTRACTING!"??

Again. While I enjoy your action sequences... since you started shooting on DV, Michael, I can't see anything. I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking at. Ever. Do audiences like this? Because if they do then it's the death of composition and mise en scene as we know it. Soon everything will be shot like an episode of "Rock of Love". And you know what? Marion Cotillard would probably still cry through her scene. You know why? Because she needs a job.

Speaking of which it's nice to see that with each film you do, you keep that trademark misogyny alive with your complete disregard for any of your characters who have vaginas. In this one, it's best summed up by the casting. While one-line-through-away male roles are filling by nobody actors, you've casted recognizable actresses like Emilie De Raven and LeeLee Sobieski in literal cameos. Why? Maybe because all women look the same to you. So there's no deliberation in casting. Your choices make it sincerely distracting during sequences. "Hey, this getaway would be awesome if I wasn't now thinking about LOST." "Should I care about Dillinger's death here? Or should I contemplate why LeeLee Sobeski looks 50. And always has."

Man-tastic. Billy Crudup? Stop it. Just fucking stop with your voices and your bullshit and your insistence on acting like you and Eric Bana are not the same person. Seriously. Has anyone ever seen them in the same place? You are a boring actor with no taste in roles and no discernible style. GET A REAL JOB! Christian Bale needs to eat something and stop acting like acting's an important task when his choice of roles in the last three years screams "PAYCHECK" (as he pushes his stunt double off the building). Johnny Depp phones this one in. And I say that confidently as a Depphile. With no malice either. I love him and you have to phone it in every once in awhile when you're a genius and when your kids are awesome and you just want to hang out with them.

Verdict: The entire rigamarole was done better and clearer and aesthetically more pleasant in The Assassination of Jesse James. Actually they are the same movie. Only... Jesse James tried.

Observe and Report (2009, dir. Jody Hill)

Whoa.  Spoilers.  Because that's how I roll.

WOW.  i just... okay.  I haven't blogged seriously in over a year.  I've been meaning to start it up again recently and this film really made me want to write an entry.  I found myself during the 90 minute run time imagining those old days at my desk job where I lived for this type of movie.  A movie I could go home and mercilessly rip apart for my own enjoyment.  Mostly I haven't been writing posts because I've actually been writing screenplays.  Which I will have you know is very difficult and so the acerbic critic in me temporarily died as my continual frustrations with structure/plot/whathaveyou nutured the commiserative and empathetic side of me.

But this movie... wow.

Let's get the date rape out of the way.  I have this thing about date rape.  Date rape jokes are like Jewish jokes.  You can safely make them if you've actually been date raped.  So my only real reason to piss on Jody Hill's parade is that it sucks that a guy got to make this joke in the multiplex arena before a chick writer or director did.  That's my issue with it.  And why?  Well, it could be that male writer/directors are seen as the only people capable of orchestrating gross out comedy which is a genre where fucking a passed out slut perhaps belongs.  OR... it could be that lady writers are too busy being friends with each other, getting skin treatments and owning dogs to concoct a scene as sensationally graphic as this one.

Whatever.  Moving the fuck on.  Why did Jody Hill (a pretty great director) WRITE this movie?  I think it was most likely to make money.  It could also have been to hang out with some cool people he knows.  Let's go out on a limb here and postulate that he wanted to say something about the human experience.  Because, to be honest, there are parts of this movie that would support that hypothesis.  Like juxtaposing mall culture with extremist gun enthusiasm.  I mean, what says America like a schlubby anti-hero shooting a naked guy a close range in the middle of the cosmetics aisle.  Oh yeah.  That's the climax of the movie.  Sorry.  Did it make me think about the state of our beloved union?  Yes.  Much like Borat.  It made me feel very glad that I don't and never have lived anywhere but the East or West Coast blue states.  It also made me sad for anyone who does.  One) because according to the recent movies I've seen there isn't much to do except shoot stuff, eat stuff and shop for shit.  And possibly dream of the day you can move to Hollywood and make a movie satirizing your experience.  And B) because everyone else in the country hates your fucking guts.

So apparently this is Taxi Driver for the LARPing generation.  Which is, in my humble opinion, a genius idea.  Problem is... Observe and Report bears little to no resemblance to Taxi Driver.  For starters, Robert DeNiro wasn't immediately established as a loser or a deranged lunatic.  You were initially rooting for him because you felt the indignancies he suffered at the hands of others were unwarranted.  As are, of course, all of your indignancies.  He gained your trust as a protagonist.  In Observe and Report, it's established right off the bat that Ronnie (Seth Rogen) is OBVIOUSLY a loser and deranged lunatic.  The Rogen persona and the imitative personas his fame has spawned are firmly ROOTED in the concept of loser as hero.  So... when he suffers the insults of others, he deserves it.  This is what we laugh at: his triumph in spite of the fact he deserves our derision.  Anyone who's seen a Will Ferrell movie knows that.

It's worth noting that the objects of DeNiro's obsessive romantic worship are both angels sacrificed to cruel systems: politics and prostitution.  While the conveniently-sweet Nell (well-acted by Collette Wolfe) falls into this category, she's an after thought to Ronnie's inciting attraction to Brandi (Anna Faris).  Brandi is so unbelievably disgusting that the sad part is: She actually does need saving.  But I suppose Mr. Hill found it too tempting to make her a punchline to be shat all over.  Which is exactly what everyone including Ronnie, her would-be savior, does to her. So let me get this straight, dude. If Anna Faris fucks whoever she wants, does copious amounts of drugs and doesnt really want to date a sociopathic fat-ass is a complete waste of space and not only deserves to be fucked like a piece of meat but she will actually ENJOY that. But Michael Pena can do it and it's funny cuz he's a "gangsta" or something.

Plus a guy who has absolutely no redeeming qualities, a fetish for guns, delusions of grandeur and a severe case of self-entitlement... he's the hero? I can hear the NCSA grads now... "that's not what he's saying you fucking lesbian feminist! He's saying that... like Seth Rogen is... like crazy... and our culture". No! FUCK YOU! You chronic masturbators! When everyone claps in slow motion for the hero to a Pixies cover that means you're rewarding him. That means you're saying everything he's done for the last 90 minutes is fantasy yes. But it's cool. You're not making an ironic statement about what this society rewards. THAT'S what Taxi Driver did. Because it was a good movie.

I could forgive the films blatantly brainless misogyny and neo-Scorsese posturing if it were funny.  But it really isn't.  I laughed at maybe three moments.  The rest of it?  Good actors and would-be comedic bits are drowned out by obese people, absurd nudity, randomness, minorities acting bizarre, second rate jokes about middle America, and a smug soundtrack that would make even Wes Anderson cringe with embarrassment. That naked guy who gets shot in the chest? He survives. Obviously. MPAA doesn't like executions but rape... A-okay. I can see why. When he was shot, the audience burst into giddy laughter and applause. As if E.T. just flew across the moon. Once again in mainstream comedy... anti-humanism trumps creativity every time.

Synonyms: Bad Santa, The Cable Guy
Antonyms: Taxi Driver, anything by Edgar Wright

BOTTOM LINE: Only for fans of Eastbound and Down. I know you're out there! People looking for another Apatow extravaganza... looks like this month's best bet is Adventureland.

Anvil! The Story of Anvil (2009, dir. Sachi Gervasi)

Arden ♥s this movie!

At the center of this heavily biased yet satisfying documentary is the undeniable friendship and unwavering hope of two aging rockers, Steve "Lips" Kudlow and Robb Reiner, the guitarist and drummer (respectively) of an all-but-forgotten metal band, Anvil.  After 15 minutes of fame 30 years ago, the band was quickly eclipsed by the likes of Metallica and Megadeth.  But if they should've given up the dream and quit rocking, no one told Kudlow and Reiner.  Working day jobs like demolition and delivering lunches to grade school cafeterias, both men keep their music alive and well on weekends and vacations.

While the idea of slaving 9 to 5 is a necessary rite of passage for any artist in their 20s, none of us expect to be doing it at middle age.  That would be.... well, pathetic.  But Lips and Rob are anything but.  Lips has a borderline sick optimistic streak and a passion that cannot be quenched even by a disastrous European "tour" which includes club owners refusing to pay and perform to empty bars.  "I'm grateful!" exclaims Lips as he prepares to don his hairnet at the start of another school year.  This was stupefying to me.  His perseverance in the face of constant rejection and three decades of "failure" you can taste... I'm not even 30 and I don't have it.  As Slash (in a brief talking head moment) points out that there are very few bands that have been together for 30 years: "The Who... Rolling Stones... ...um... and Anvil."

I won't ruin the climax of the film.  But it's a moment that the filmmaker very shrewdly positioned in the doc's three act structure to solicit our maximum fulfillment.  Something most narrative films don't give a shit about.  You know... It's funny.  While these are obviously real people and their story is very true, Anvil is not really a documentary.  The filmmaker, Gervasi (also the screenwriter of Spielberg's The Terminal, WTF?) was an Anvil fan from the beginning and all the footage is positioned to tell a narrative story of redemption with a touch of... yikes, Spielbergian feel-goodness.  But that said, it's a wholly satisfying narrative story of redemption.  And if no one is writing Rocky anymore, then I guess you have to go out and find him.  I, for one, am not complaining.

Synonyms:  DIG!, The Devil and Daniel Johnston, This Is Spinal Tap, King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters

Antonyms: Shine A Light, Running Down a Dream, No Direction Home

BOTTOM LINE:  If you can find it playing near you, GO!  I bet you buy a T-shirt when you get home.