Sometimes you don’t really need to write a “review.” You can simply list the talent behind a film. Story: Agatha Christie. Director: Billy Wilder. Cast: Charles Laughton, Marlene Dietrich, Tyrone Power, Elsa Lanchester. Now do yourself a favor and go watch this great courtroom drama from 1957. It’s free when you click here.
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by L. Frank Baum
Unlike other classic children’s books, L. Frank Baum’s Wizard seems intended to be taken at face value: It actually appears to be written for children. I suppose you could read into it all sorts of political commentary – on slavery, Western imperialism, etc. – but I prefer to see it much as I do the movie, just Dorothy and her three odd pals (and Toto) having wonderful adventures.
It’s interesting to learn which elements of the book that Hollywood chose to tweak. Ruby Slippers instead of Silver Shoes? No China People? No Hammer-Heads? Oh, my!
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It’s funny how one flaw in a movie can make all the difference between an enjoyable time or an exasperating experience. Cell 211, a Spanish prison thriller, is absorbing for about 30 minutes – but then a key relationship that does not ring true spoils all the fun.
The movie has a clever premise. A rookie prison guard has just walked into the joint when all hell breaks loose. There is a riot, violence and, in the confusion, guard trainee Juan (Alberto Ammann) is mistaken for one of the inmates. He becomes trapped with hundreds of vicious cons as tense negotiations begin between prison officials and the inmates’ leader, Malamadre (Luis Tosar).
And this is where the movie lost me. Implausibly, the tough, shrewd Malamadre is so impressed by a couple of seemingly pro-inmate suggestions made by newcomer Juan that the hardened con and the stubble-faced young man quickly become Best Friends Forever. This plot absurdity turns what might have been a tense thrill ride into a series of “yeah, right” moments.
I don’t generally read a lot of reviews before writing mine, but yesterday I noticed two local scribes with opposite takes on Cell 211. Said Critic Number One: “It’s a great, simple premise, and I will be surprised if we don’t get an American remake … this may be one case where a remake is justified.” Said Critic Number Two: “I’ll bet you $100 that Hollywood snaps up this property for a glossy, star-studded remake. I’ll bet you $1,000 that this version is better.”
I’m taking the side of Critic Number One. For once, Hollywood has the opportunity to actually improve on a foreign film. Grade: C
Director: Daniel Monzon Cast: Luis Tosar, Alberto Ammann, Antonio Resines, Manuel Moron, Carlos Bardem, Marta Etura Release: 2009
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“The father of the bride [Bill Clinton] appeared to have followed his daughter’s instructions and lost quite a bit of weight for the ceremony. She had ordered him to lose 15 pounds.” — New York Times story on August 1
To me, Clinton looks emaciated and much, much older since he followed Chelsea’s “instructions.” I’ve noticed that high-profile, high-pressure jobs seem to accelerate the aging process. Here are some recent pictures of other public figures:
Hillary Clinton
Laura Bush
Donald Rumsfeld
Barack Obama
Dick Cheney
*****
“Actor Andy Griffith has a new role: pitching President Obama’s health care law to seniors in a cable television ad paid for by Medicare. The TV star … tells seniors that ‘good things are coming.’” — wire service story
He should know. Here is a publicity still of Griffith, 84, in full coital bliss from the movie, Play the Game.
*****
“[Steelers quarterback/accused rapist Ben Roethlisberger] was greeted warmly by an enthusiastic crowd estimated at 10,000 on Saturday at St. Vincent College.” — Associated Press story
“It’s [dodgeball] a great game that I loved in school. It’s one of the few times when you can purposely hurt someone else, and the fat kids and nerdy non-athletic kids became easy targets.” — NBA star Ron Artest
It’s nice to know that professional jocks think as much of their fans as the fans think of them, isn’t it?
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The Living and the Dead begins quietly enough. The setting is one of those stately British manor houses with an imposing facade but which, once you step inside, has fallen into hopeless disrepair, probably because its occupants are too proud to leave but too poor to pay for upkeep. The three inhabitants of the house are a respectable father (Roger Lloyd Pack), a dignified but terminally ill, bedridden mother (Kate Fahy), and their only son, James (Leo Bill). Everything seems peaceful and proper. There is very little indication that director Simon Rumley is about to unlatch the gates of hell.
Our only clue that things are about to unravel – big time – is the unorthodox behavior of adult son James. Actually, James’s problems are a bit more than unorthodox; he is a full-blown schizophrenic. He is hyperactive, needy, and childish – but all of this is managed by medication and the loving care of his father (mother, remember, is unable to leave her bed). James, who really means well, is desperate to prove to his parents that he is a responsible boy, that he can be “normal.” And then one fateful day, father has to leave the house on business, and the day nurse can’t come right away, and James is left alone in the house with mother ….
I’ll have to say that watching Leo Bill as James, I initially felt that he was overacting and that his histrionics would grow tiresome and kill the movie. I was mistaken. Bill, Pack, and Fahy all turn in superb performances in what must have been difficult roles. Bill, especially, impresses. When James panics, you panic. What in God’s name will this unfortunate soul do next – to himself, his poor mother, or anyone around him?
The Living and the Dead can count among its cinematic ancestors movies like What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? and Misery, but Rumley’s film is even more horrifying because it’s more realistic. There are no faded movie stars, famous writers, or crazed nurses in this film; just an ailing mom, an absent dad, and a boy with problems. And boy, what problems. Grade: A-
Director: Simon Rumley Cast: Roger Lloyd Pack, Kate Fahy, Leo Bill, Sarah Ball Release: 2007
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by Mary Roberts Rinehart
It’s a shame the way history rewards some authors and neglects others. Take, for example, the reputations of Agatha Christie and Mary Roberts Rinehart. What’s that, you say? Mary Roberts Who? My point, exactly. Everyone knows Dame Agatha, and more power to the great British mystery writer. But how many readers know of Rinehart, an American novelist who not only predates Christie but who also, in some ways, surpasses her? The Case of Jennie Brice is the second Rinehart book I’ve read (following The Circular Staircase), and both novels are delightful. They contain all of the murder and intrigue a reader expects from a Hercule Poirot story, but Rinehart’s characters are more human – and humorous – than anyone found in Christie.
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. 
In the recent documentary Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work, the venerable comedienne insists that, when it comes to standup, no topic is off limits. That might be true, but when compared to today’s top comedians, old pro Rivers seems awfully tame.
Case in point: Sarah Silverman: Jesus Is Magic. Silverman, who joins Kathy Griffin in the upper echelon of American female comics, doesn’t seem to have any limitations: “Smelly” Mexicans, blacks who don’t leave tips, anus analysis, and dying old people are all just fodder for a routine which, I have to admit, is often hilarious. What seems to be sad but true is that the crueler the setup, the funnier the payoff.
What separates Silverman from the standup pack is her surface innocence. Her “who, little old me?” persona and cutie-pie face are at comic odds with her delivery whenever she drops the f-bomb, simulates sex, cracks wise about the Holocaust, and so forth. It does make me wonder, however, just how well Silverman’s shtick will play when she’s 45 and no longer “cute” – something never an issue for Rivers, and probably not for Griffin, either.
But for now – or, in the case of this concert film, 2005 – Silverman’s politically incorrect, profane, and outrageous offensive works just fine. Grade: B
Director: Liam Lynch Cast: Sarah Silverman, Brian Posehn, Laura Silverman, Bob Odenkirk, Kelsie Lynn Release: 2005
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Say the word “pedophile,” and most people look the other way. In Life During Wartime, director Todd Solondz asks you to spend 96 minutes not looking away – just to see, you know, if you might learn something about this uncomfortable subject. Solondz does everything in his power to keep you watching. Much of the film is shot in sunny Florida, with bright colors, pretty people, and polite conversation. Ah, but what lurks between the lines of those conversations ….
We hear a lot in our news media about the victims of sex abuse. What goes under-reported is the devastation wreaked on the families of the abusers – those siblings, wives, and children who are not abused themselves, but who are nevertheless affected. The emphasis is on these people in Wartime, and there is much talk about “forgetting” and “forgiving.”
Although most of the film is about these relatives, its most powerful scene is between the pedophile himself, recently released from prison, and his college-student son. It’s a short scene, and there are no histrionics, but actors Ciaran Hinds and Chris Marquette turn it into the most potent five minutes in the movie.
I suppose some viewers will feel that, by focusing on the father in this dramatic scene, Solondz is asking us to empathize with a child molester. I didn’t see it that way. I saw it as a filmmaker pointing his camera at two talented actors, letting the scene unfold, and simply saying to the audience, “Here. This is unpleasant but this is what happens. You be the judge.” Grade: B+
Director: Todd Solondz Cast: Allison Janney, Shirley Henderson, Michael Lerner, Dylan Riley Snyder, Ciaran Hinds, Michael K. Williams, Paul Reubens, Charlotte Rampling, Ally Sheedy, Chris Marquette Release: 2010
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These are heady times for fans of Kirk Douglas’ son. Michael Douglas wowed critics earlier this year in Solitary Man, and next month he stars in the much-anticipated sequel, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps. Ten years ago, Douglas gave a rare comic performance in what I think is one of his best films, Wonder Boys. Read my review of that movie here, and then watch it for free by clicking here.
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Every little kid knows the bogeyman. The bogeyman hides in the bedroom closet, or lurks on the floor beneath the bed. Fortunately, most kids grow up and find out who the real scary people are: math teachers and driving instructors. But for documentarians Joshua Zeman and Barbara Brancaccio, both of whom grew up on New York’s Staten Island, the bogeyman never really went away. He is, apparently, still haunting them.
Zeman and Brancaccio wrote and directed Cropsey, a documentary about child abductions and the alleged, real-life bogeyman behind them. The filmmakers grew up in the 1980s during what surely must have been a nightmare-come-true for Staten Island parents: Children kept disappearing, and one of them was found dead and buried near the site of an abandoned mental hospital. Suspicion fell on a middle-aged drifter named Andre Rand, and this pathetic outcast became the borough’s “Cropsey” (a Hudson Valley nickname for any ax-wielding bogeyman) as related in this creepy – yet ultimately unsatisfying – movie.
I call it unsatisfying because, try though they might, Zeman and Brancaccio never get past gossip, rumor, and speculation regarding the decades-old disappearance of five children on the New York island. Rand was eventually convicted of kidnapping two of the kids, though he never confessed to their killings, and no additional bodies were ever recovered. This lack of hard evidence forces Zeman and Brancaccio to venture all sorts of hypotheses, including: Rand, who once worked as an attendant at the notorious Willowbrook mental institution, was seeking to rid the world of mentally disabled children; Rand was under the influence of a devil-worshipping cult, which roamed a network of subterranean tunnels beneath the ruins of Willowbrook.
There are no revelations from Rand, no interviews with him, but instead lots of wide-eyed theories posited by regular folk and authorities. But all of this speculation – from police, citizens, reporters, “experts” – has no payoff. Rand remains in prison, possibly guilty, possibly the scapegoat of a fearful, ignorant community. This ambiguity kills Cropsey, rendering it just a big-screen version of Dateline NBC when the film’s focus shifts from horror to courtroom politics.
Unfortunately for Zeman and Brancaccio, their bogeyman stayed in the bedroom closet … when they really needed him to come out. Grade: C-
Directors: Joshua Zeman, Barbara Brancaccio Featuring: Donna Cutugno, Karen Schweiger, David Novarro, Ralph Aquino Release: 2009
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