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08Feb

Smokin’ Seventeen

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by Janet Evanovich

These Stephanie Plum novels are like mom’s meatloaf: The ingredients never change, but they still taste good on occasion. The only news from this 17th installment in the series is that “good girl” Stephanie finally stops fantasizing about cheating on longtime boyfriend Morelli – and goes ahead and does it. Several times. Morelli, supposedly an ace cop, either suspects nothing or doesn’t care. Problem is, if he doesn’t care, why should readers?

06Feb

Cold Prey

Posted in Books, Movies, TV & Web, Guilty Pleasures | 1 Comment

Horror-film addicts will go to great lengths to get their fix, and if that means that we– er, they must travel 4,000 miles to the mountains of Norway, so be it. Because it turns out that hidden somewhere in the icy peaks north of Oslo there is an abandoned ski lodge. And living in that lodge is ….

The Norwegian slasher flick Cold Prey is a lot of fun, but not right away. It begins with a slew of horror-movie clichés: We listen to ominous news reports about missing skiers; we meet a carload of attractive-but-vapid young people on their way to a snowboarding holiday; and, naturally, the kids’ cell phones don’t work.

But if you can make it past those too-familiar opening scenes without throwing your cell phone at the screen, the movie delivers some nifty chills once the youngsters arrive at Jotunheimen, a frigid, beautiful mountain range where Cold Prey was filmed.

After that trite opening, director Roar Uthaug makes some good decisions. For one, he cast Ingrid Bolso Berdal as his heroine. It’s immediately clear that if anyone can survive an upcoming bloodbath, it’s this steely-eyed brunette. Berdal is to Scandinavian psychopaths what Sigourney Weaver is to scaly aliens.

Second, Uthaug tapped Norwegian beauty Viktoria Winge to play the other girl in the small party of stranded snowboarders. Winge is in the movie to suffer a gruesome death — but not before she spends a fair amount of screen time prancing about in skimpy panties. That is, admittedly, odd behavior for a woman stuck in a heatless lodge in the mountains of Norway. But who’s complaining?

You might notice that I haven’t yet described the movie’s plot. You might also have seen one or more of the Friday the 13th flicks, in which case you already know the plot. Plot doesn’t really matter in a film like this; in fact, too much story can be a detriment. What matters are goosebumps. Uthaug sets a leisurely pace as the kids take refuge in a gloomy, 1970s-vintage lodge, exploring its dim hallways and common areas, generating a delicious sense of isolation. The director is also smart enough not to show too much of the killer, too soon.

Cold Prey was a big hit in Scandinavia, spawning two sequels. It’s no classic, but it’s better than most films in the much-maligned slasher genre. And did I mention Viktoria Winge in her panties? Grade: B

Director: Roar Uthaug Cast: Ingrid Bolso Berdal, Rolf Kristian Larsen, Tomas Alf Larsen, Endre Martin Midtstigen, Viktoria Winge, Rune Melby Release: 2006

Watch Trailers (click here)

01Feb

The Ancient Alien Question

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by Philip Coppens

I’ll admit it, this stuff fascinates me: rocks weighing hundreds of tons that our ancestors were somehow able to move; cryptic references to “gods from the heavens” found in many ancient manuscripts; science’s acknowledgment that there is likely life out there in the universe. So when I pick up a book like Coppens’s The Ancient Alien Question, I try to have an open mind. But then ….

There are so many problems with this book. For starters, it should be called The English Language Question. I don’t know if it was poorly translated, edited, or written, but much of it is incomprehensible, crammed with irrelevant (at least to the layman) details about disputes within the scientific community, or dull minutiae, such as the components of old cement. Coppens’s favorite adverb is “clearly,” but there is very little I’d consider “clear” about many of his conclusions.

Consider this example: On page 202, Coppens cites “evidence” that nuclear technology existed in ancient India by quoting an expert named Francis Taylor. On the following page, Coppens writes this: “The first question is whether the named archaeologist Francis Taylor existed. Alas, no one has ever been able to identify him.” In an attempt to confer an air of impartiality and credibility to the author, the publisher’s blurb claims that Coppens is “labeled a skeptic by the believers, and a believer by the skeptics.” Don’t buy it: The man is “clearly” a believer.

It’s too bad this book is such a mess, because there are a lot of mysteries from antiquity, and it seems unlikely that humans could have accomplished some of their amazing feats without help – from someone or something. There must be better books on this subject. Clearly.

28Jan

One for the Money

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I’m not sure if this is a boast or a confession, but I have read almost all of Janet Evanovich’s “Stephanie Plum” books. Ten years ago, I would have been proud of that statement, but in recent years, as the quality of the series has declined, well, not so much.

When it was announced that Hollywood was going to produce a movie based on the first book in the Plum series (there are 18 now, plus a few novellas), One for the Money, fans of the franchise should have had two concerns: Would the actress playing bumbling Stephanie, the heart and soul of the books, capture her goofy charisma? And would the film do justice to the screwball comic tone of the novels?

The answer to the first question is “not to worry.” Katherine Heigl, who has a talent for choosing lousy scripts, nails the big three musts for an actress playing Stephanie: She’s the right mix of klutz, good girl, and sex kitten as the Trenton, New Jersey broad who, because of mounting bills and a hungry pet hamster, reluctantly takes a job as a bounty hunter.

Alas, the answer to the second question is, “not so much.” As directed by Julie Anne Robinson, One for the Money is a curiously flat film. There is a scene involving Stephanie and an FTA (“failure to appear” at court), an elderly exhibitionist, that should be hilarious. Instead the sequence, in which Steph transports the wrinkly geezer and his “twig and berries” to police headquarters, is just … peculiar.

The film’s climax, involving dead bodies, gunplay, and the unmasking of a villain, is similarly lifeless. In a movie like this, everything needs to click. It requires pacing and it requires chemistry. It needs to be more like Charade.

The supporting players (of vital importance to fans of the books) range from good enough to “what was the casting director thinking?” Debbie Reynolds, as Grandma Mazur, is OK but no more than that. Lula should have been played by Gabourey Sidibe. Vinnie should have been played by Danny DeVito. The movie should have been better. Grade: C-

Director: Julie Anne Robinson Cast: Katherine Heigl, Jason O’Mara, Daniel Sunjata, John Leguizamo, Sherri Shepherd, Debbie Reynolds, Debra Monk, Nate Mooney, Adam Paul, Ana Reeder Release: 2012

Watch Trailers (click here)

26Jan

Stiffed

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by Susan Faludi

As I read Susan Faludi’s (Backlash) depressing opus about the “crisis” in American manhood, I kept changing my opinion of its author. At times I wanted to laud Faludi for her insightful reporting – and sometimes I wanted to throttle her for general cluelessness. As a former journalist, I appreciate the sheer amount of legwork that went into her book. She interviewed scores of men, from construction workers to porn stars, and much of her analysis is thoughtful. But occasionally Faludi adopts the tone of a victor perched atop the pedestal of feminism, sitting subtly and condescendingly in judgment of pitiful males.

Random thoughts:

Faludi’s conclusion is that most American men are unhappy (and resistant to feminism) because their fathers – those heroes of World War II and members of the “greatest generation” – were cold, distant, and silent parents, providing little or no guidance to boys growing up in a consumer culture that rewards image over true worth. I’m sure there is some truth to this theory. But what about all of the mothers – do they make no impact on their sons? Other than in passing, Faludi makes no mention of the mothers.
Feminism, like motherhood, gets a pass from Faludi as a contributing factor to modern male distress. Men who criticize any aspect of the women’s movement are unreasonable, delusional, or scapegoating. Yet I was struck by this assessment of feminism by one of the men Faludi interviewed: “It doesn’t seem to have made anyone very happy.”
I’m not convinced that the average American male is quite as tormented as Faludi would have us believe. But a 600-page volume of interviews with men who are generally content would be an awfully dull read.
Faludi’s final words of advice to men who are unhappy or confused by our Brave New World? “Wage a battle against no enemy.” Great. That helps.

19Jan

Sleeping Beauty

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I like my movies odd, and I like my movies sexy. In general, when I review an odd, sexy movie, I want to be kind because I don’t want filmmakers to stop producing them. But there is a limit to my tolerance, and freshman director Julia Leigh’s Sleeping Beauty is too long on odd, too short on sexy.

Beauty is about a young woman named Lucy (Emily Browning) who is psychologically damaged. In fact, everyone Lucy encounters — an old boyfriend, her co-workers at a temp job, the landlords with whom she lives — is damaged in one way or another, and is either hostile, bitter, or emotionally impenetrable. So Lucy, who is nothing if not experimental, takes a new job as a living blow-up doll for rich old men to play with (but never to “penetrate,” as we are constantly reminded by the madam of the high-end brothel where Lucy goes to work).

Leigh’s movie is basically a 100-minute peep show in which we spy on Lucy and her peculiar acquaintances. It’s also an Australian production with French art-film pretensions. When someone pours a glass of tea or wipes down a tabletop, Leigh’s camera lingers portentously. There is much unspoken angst in the film — but not to worry, because all of that somber silence is soon interrupted by kinky sex.

If I didn’t know better (actually, I don’t), I’d wager that Sleeping Beauty was financed by a committee of dirty old men, several of whom had it in their contracts that they got to appear in scenes with the fetching Ms. Browning. How else to explain numerous scenes in which these geezers, their twigs-and-berries on full display, spoon with the naked and unconscious girl, or mount her (drugged) body, or recklessly toss her onto the floor?

This movie is promoted as an “erotic drama,” but while watching it I found myself empathizing with one of Lucy’s customers, who complains: “The only way I can get a hard-on these days is if I swallow a truckload of Viagra.” Grade: C-

Director: Julia Leigh Cast: Emily Browning, Rachael Blake, Ewen Leslie, Peter Carroll, Chris Haywood, Hugh Keays-Byrne, Bridgette Barrett, Hannah Bella Bowden, Les Chantery Release: 2011

Watch Trailers and Clips (click here)

11Jan

“Homeland” and “Downton Abbey”

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The downside of any great TV series is that, at some point, it will run out of creative gas. You’re not likely to hear anyone proclaim: “I just watched season six of The West Wing, and the show just keeps getting better and better!”

Eventually, actors leave series for other roles, writers run out of fresh ideas, and shows decline. Although there are some exceptions, generally the first two or three years of classic series are the best. My point is this: Now is the best time to catch Downton Abbey, entering its second year on PBS, and Homeland, which just wrapped its inaugural season on Showtime.

Homeland

Claire Danes is a trip in this psychological thriller about an Iraq war hero who, after eight years as a prisoner of war, returns home to glory and fanfare. Danes, as a pill-popping, manic-depressive CIA agent, suspects that Sgt. Brody (Damian Lewis) has been “turned” by al-Qaeda and might be involved in a terrorist plot on American soil.

There are some trite elements in Homeland: an obstinate, preening boss who places obstacles in the heroine’s path; her loyal but ineffectual sidekick, mostly on hand for comic relief. But Danes’s wild-eyed intelligence operative, Carrie Mathison, is endlessly watchable, and Homeland’s plot has multiple hooks — it’s a whodunit (is Brody a turncoat and, if not, then who is?), a thriller (agents race to prevent an unknown attack on an unknown date), and a romance. It’s also an effective reminder of how terrorism affects the people who actually fight it.

Homeland resolves its whodunit about two-thirds into the season, and as a result the show is drained of some suspense. But the cat-and-mouse relationship between borderline-psychotic Carrie and the intense, enigmatic Brody is riveting. Carrie is no traditional heroine; self-absorbed, high-strung, often annoying, she’s not above using sex to get what she wants. Brody is prickly, paranoid, sexually screwed up, and quite possibly dangerous. In other words, these two are made for each other — right? Grade: A-

Cast: Claire Danes, Damian Lewis, Morena Baccarin, David Harewood, Diego Klattenhoff, Morgan Saylor, Mandy Patinkin, Amy Hargreaves, Brianna Brown, Melissa Benoist Premiere: 2011

*****

Downton Abbey

The term “soap opera” gets a bad rap. You could describe much of Shakespeare as “soap opera,” considering all of The Bard’s melodramatic musings on young love, family strife, jealousies, and societal oppression. Romeo and Juliet, Gone with the Wind, War and Peace, Casablanca — they all have ingredients of soap opera. Good soap opera. Which brings me to Downton Abbey, which is superb, polished soap.

As an unpolished Yank, my initial reaction to this world of British aristocrats and their servants was a strong desire to see the various maids and butlers creep upstairs in the middle of the night to slaughter their upper-crust “superiors,” and then serve their hoity-toity kidneys on silver platters in the elegant dining room. But the genius of series creator Julian Fellowes is a knack for sucking viewers into this stodgy universe. I wound up caring as much about a pampered rich girl’s marital prospects as I did about a young soldier’s ordeal in the trenches of World War I.

Fellowes overpowered my inner populist by illustrating that all of us — rich and poor — are to some extent powerless in the face of the larger society in which we live. Or, as a renowned soap-opera writer put it a long time ago, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”

For the inhabitants of Downton Abbey, both upstairs and downstairs, appearances are everything. Says the indomitable Maggie Smith, who plays the indomitable Violet, Dowager Countess of Grantham: “The truth is neither here nor there; it’s the look of the thing that matters.” Packed with wit, subtlety, and soap, Downton Abbey does more than look fabulous. It is fabulous. Grade: A

Cast: Hugh Bonneville, Elizabeth McGovern, Maggie Smith, Jim Carter, Brendan Coyle, Michelle Dockery, Joanne Froggatt, Phyllis Logan, Laura Carmichael, Dan Stevens Premiere: 2010

Watch Trailers and Clips: Homeland (click here); Downton Abbey (click here)

04Jan

The Innkeepers

Posted in Books, Movies, TV & Web, Movies | 2 Comments

I don’t know about you, but when I board a rollercoaster, the real thrills don’t come from the car’s frenzied drops and loops. I get my chills earlier, during the ascent as the train ominously clicks, wheezes, and grinds its way to the highest point. The anticipation, or dread, of what’s about to happen — that’s the best part.

I can’t think of a better analogy than a nail-biting coaster climb to describe Ti West’s directorial style. West, whose low budget The House of the Devil was surprisingly effective, knows how to turn the screws of suspense. The Innkeepers, West’s new haunted-hotel movie, doesn’t provide many payoffs to his screw-tightening, but when the jolts do come, they’re nasty.

Sara Paxton stars as Claire, a young woman stuck in a dead-end job at the Yankee Pedlar, a 19th-century hotel preparing to lock its doors after one more weekend of business. Claire shares hotel duties with fellow slacker Luke (Pat Healy), a nerdish cynic who relieves boredom at the front desk by working on his passion, a Web site devoted to the paranormal. The only other (apparent) inhabitants of the Yankee Pedlar are a mother and her child, and a sharp-tongued actress (Kelly McGillis) in town for a speaking engagement.

Not much happens in the first hour of The Innkeepers, which is both a good thing and a bad thing. It’s good because, unlike so many “young-people-in-peril” flicks, in this one we get to know our two heroes and, also unlike the youngsters in so many horror movies, they are actually worth knowing. Paxton, especially, is adorable as awkward tomboy Claire, who must summon her reserves of courage. (It’s curious that no matter how many chillers we see with “No! — Don’t go into that room!” scenes, they still work in the hands of a skilled director.) There is also an amusing bit involving Claire, a leaky garbage bag, and a dumpster. It has absolutely nothing to do with ghosts or the plot, but it’s priceless, one of the best scenes in the film.

The movie does take a long time to deliver the goods. The characters, likeable as they are, can’t carry a full hour of thin material. But for what it is — a small movie intent on delivering shivers — it’s a nice ride. Grade: B

Director: Ti West Cast: Sara Paxton, Pat Healy, Kelly McGillis, George Riddle, Alison Bartlett, Lena Dunham Release: 2011

Watch Trailers and Clip (click here)

24Dec

Straw Dogs

Posted in Books, Movies, TV & Web, Movies | 2 Comments

It’s been years since I last watched director Sam Peckinpah’s seminal drama Straw Dogs, but it’s the kind of film that you don’t easily forget.

Peckinpah’s thriller provoked howls of outrage in 1971 for its violent content, in particular a prolonged rape scene in which the main female character, Amy (Susan George), appears to take some pleasure from her assault. Critics accused Peckinpah of misogyny. If the macho director’s goal was to generate controversy, he succeeded big time.

I don’t presume to know if “no always means no,” but I do know that the sexual question mark in Peckinpah’s movie — did Amy prefer her alpha-male assailant (an ex-boyfriend) to her pacifist husband David (Dustin Hoffman)? — was key to the film’s climax. When the couple’s home comes under siege by the rapist and his thuggish pals, suspense was derived from audience uncertainty about whether David and Amy could work together long enough to survive.

Director Rod Lurie’s remake dispenses with any questions about the pivotal rape scene. It’s clear this time that Amy (Kate Bosworth) wants no part of it. This is a politically safe viewpoint, but it also subtracts tension from the remake’s final act in which, once again, the couple’s home comes under attack.

But Lurie’s Straw Dogs is still effective because of the universal conflicts it explores. When Hollywood players David and Amy return to Amy’s hometown in rural Mississippi, the couple ignites a powder keg of culture clashes — city vs. country, privileged vs. poor, liberal vs. conservative, North vs. South, and atheist vs. believer. Pretty boy David (James Marsden) is a lightning rod for Blackwater’s football-loving, beer-guzzling good ol’ boys. And Amy is a source of constant temptation.

Marsden is convincing as a proponent of the “can’t we all just get along” school of thought, but he lacks Hoffman’s charisma. Bosworth is a credible small-town-girl-turned-TV-star, but she also projects a bland personality. Hoffman and George were unforgettable. I’ll remember them, but I won’t remember this remake. Grade: B-

Director: Rod Lurie Cast: James Marsden, Kate Bosworth, Alexander Skarsgard, James Woods, Dominic Purcell, Rhys Coiro, Billy Lush, Laz Alonso, Willa Holland, Walton Goggins Release: 2011

Watch Trailers and Clips (click here)

23Dec

Who Goes There?

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by John W. Campbell

This is why, in some literary circles, science-fiction gets so little respect. Campbell had a great idea – malevolent, alien life force, frozen in Antarctica for millennia, is thawed by a small group of unwitting scientists – and he put his pen to paper. But Campbell had one problem: He could not write. Let me rephrase that: Campbell writes abominably. He never uses an adjective when two or three will do, he indulges in hyperbole, and he garbles grammar. Huge chunks of the novella are incomprehensible. I have no idea how Who Goes There? found a publisher, but I can see why Hollywood found it attractive. Campbell’s premise was one that filmmakers could build upon – and improve with very little effort (The Thing movies are based on this story). Yes, in this case, the movies really are better than the book.