Birdman

 

Some folks think this 1962 biopic of longtime prisoner Robert Stroud is a bit creaky, pokey, and preachy — particularly by today’s standards.  But I have to confess to a sentimental bias in favor of this Burt Lancaster prison drama.  At the end of the film, Stroud (Lancaster) asks a friend if he knows what Alcatraz used to be called.  When the friend pleads ignorance, Stroud tells him: “Bird Island.”  For the unsophisticated readers out there, Bird Island is a cultural, economic, and artistic hub of activity in the Midwest. Watch Burt and his birds for free by clicking here.

 

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Faulkner1

 

These are the eyes of Fox News anchor Harris Faulkner.  These eyes terrify me.  Her bulging peepers cause me sleeplessness.  I felt the need to share them with you. 

 

 .               Faulkner3 Faulkner2

 

 

*****

 

Gore

 

Al Gore is accused of massage-parlor gropings.  If you were Al’s wife, would you trust this reptilian visage?

 

Looking at Faulkner’s eyeballs and Gore’s smarminess puts me in need of something cheerful.  So here is a smiley face:

 

Smiley 

 

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Vanish1

 

The Vanishing is a tale of two men.  One of them is a mild-mannered family man, a chemistry teacher named Raymond Lemorne who is adored by his two young daughters.  The other man is a wild-eyed fellow, a bachelor named Rex Hofman who is incapable of forming long-term relationships with women.  One of the two men is also a sociopath who kidnaps and kills women.  Guess who the madman is, Raymond or Rex?

The movie begins with the roadside abduction of Saskia (Johanna ter Steege), Rex’s lover and a girl who is entirely too trusting of strangers.  Rex is understandably distraught when Saskia seems to simply vanish, and he proceeds to devote his life to an obsessive search for her.  But just when it looks like The Vanishing is headed down an all-too-familiar, track-down-the-killer storyline, director George Sluizer surprises us by shifting the film’s focus to good citizen Raymond.

There are more twists in store, but The Vanishing is unusual in other ways.  For one thing — shattering the stereotype of nubile, female victims in most American slasher flicks — Steege’s Saskia is friendly and likable.  In her scant 15 minutes of screen time, the actress makes the audience fear for her safety.

On the other end of the personality spectrum, Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu’s sociopathic Raymond will make you think twice before ever lending a quarter to a stranger.  Raymond doesn’t seem like he’d harm a fly.  However, as he explains:  “When I was 16, I discovered something … a slight abnormality in my personality, imperceptible to those around me.”  Raymond recognized his own mental illness, his difference from others.  Now he requires unusual stimulation and has discovered an all-consuming, if antisocial, “hobby.”

To Raymond’s way of thinking, kidnapping is just another chemistry experiment.  The suspense in The Vanishing boils down to one question:  Which will prevail, Rex’s determination to learn the truth about Saskia’s fate, or Raymond’s calculated game?  Although I don’t completely buy into one character’s fateful decision near the end of the movie, there’s no doubt that the consequences of that decision are truly horrifying.         Grade:  B+

 

Vanish2

 

Director:  George Sluizer  Cast:  Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu, Gene Bervoets, Johanna ter Steege, Gwen Eckhaus, Bernadette Le Sache  Release:  1988

 

 Vanish3   Watch the Trailer  (click here)

 

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Solitary1

 

Pity the poor Baby Boomers.  … OK, OK, so screw the Boomers.  Boomers, as they never tire of reminding us, gave us the civil rights movement and The Beatles.  Of course, they also gave us skyrocketing divorce rates and the breakup of the American family, but hey, let’s not talk about that.

Every generation has its own movie stars, and none is more emblematic of the Boomer than Michael Douglas.  Little Boomers once sprawled on their parents’ living-room floors and watched young Douglas on TV as Steve Keller, solving crime on The Streets of San Francisco.  Later, Boomers moved out of the house and discovered fun and adventure with Douglas in Romancing the Stone.  But the Boomers and Kirk Douglas’s boy also had a serious side.  They took on environmental issues with The China Syndrome and confronted divorce in The War of the Roses.  Alas, in the 1980s, Boomers tired of their endless good deeds, and Douglas’s Gordon Gekko taught everyone that “greed is good” in Wall Street.

So now, as the golden years approach, what does the iconic Douglas have to say in Solitary Man?  Nothing very good.  Apparently, you can “have it all” – just not all at once.  Ben Kalmen (Douglas) is an auto dealer, pushing 60 and finding his life on the skids.  Kalmen’s health is declining, his business is ruined by scandal, and chasing tail isn’t as easy as it once was.  He has managed to alienate his own family in his relentless pursuit of the fountain of youth.  But you’re only as old as you feel, right Ben?

The final shot in Solitary Man is pure gold.  Kalmen must make a choice between something solid and reassuring, or something more in keeping with the Boomer mantras of free love and self-expression.  Which one should he choose?  Don’t ask me.  I’m a Boomer, myself, so how would I know?         Grade:  A-

 

Solitary2

  

Directors:  Brian Koppelman, David Levien  Cast:  Michael Douglas, Susan Sarandon, Danny DeVito, Mary-Louise Parker, Jenna Fischer, Imogen Poots, Jesse Eisenberg, Olivia Thirlby, Richard Schiff, Anastasia Griffith  Release:  2010

 

Solitary3      Watch Trailers and Clips  (click here)

 

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by Jay Anson

Amityville

 

Reading this book was akin to picking up a copy of The National Enquirer in the supermarket line and becoming engrossed in a particularly lurid story.  You’re a bit worried that someone you know might spot you reading the stuff, but you also secretly hope your checkout line moves slowly, because you really want to finish reading the article.

I have no idea how much of this infamous ghost story is based on fact; it’s been rehashed so many times by so many people, and the main participants (including the book’s author) are all dead, so we’ll probably never know if the “possession” of George and Kathy Lutz’s Long Island home was a gigantic hoax … or not.  The author will never be confused with William Peter Blatty (Anson loves exclamation points!  He ends nearly every chapter with one!), but he knows how to grab and hold your attention — just like those addictive supermarket tabloids.

 

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Hope

 

I have to make a confession:  I have not seen this week’s movie, Hope and Glory.  Sometimes, during my search for free, quality films on the Internet, I can’t afford to be that selective.  However … nearly all critics fell in love with this 1987 autobiographical tale from director John Boorman, in which he details family life in World War II England.  My ex-wife also liked this film.  You could argue that, having once-upon-a-time married me, she’s already exhibited bad taste, but I think she might have been more discerning about films than she was about husbands.  Watch it free by clicking here.

 

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Book1

 

I’ll bet The Book of Eli looked great on paper.  In some Hollywood conference room, the movie’s sales pitch might have gone something like this:  “Post-apocalyptic – but with a serious theme (we’ve included the King James Bible!).  We’ve got Denzel on board; he’s going to produce, as well.  And the picture will look great – special effects galore!  As for plot, well, we’ve borrowed some stuff from Ray Bradbury’s story, Fahrenheit 451, so we’re not too concerned about that, and audiences love twist endings.  Boy, have we got a twist ending!”

The Book of Eli is certainly stylish, and it really does look great.  Its barren, desert landscapes resemble a montage of the coolest-looking album covers you can imagine.  And Denzel Washington is suitably somber, doing his best “man with no name,” Clint Eastwood-channeling.  Gary Oldman is, as always, eminently watchable as the movie’s villain, a cackling madman who decides that the Bible is all he needs to expand his post-nuclear slice of America.

It is The Book of Eli’s misfortune that it opened so close to the premiere of a much superior after-the-bomb movie, The Road.  I guess the cinematography and art direction are grander in Eli than in Road, and a bit more “happens,” plot-wise, in Denzel’s movie.  But all of Washington’s glum stares, ominous growls, and a somber, strings-heavy soundtrack can’t overcome the pretentious, derivative story, shallow characters, and preposterous twist ending.         Grade:  C+

 

Book2

 

Directors:  Albert Hughes, Allen Hughes  Cast:  Denzel Washington, Gary Oldman, Mila Kunis, Ray Stevenson, Jennifer Beals, Michael Gambon, Tom Waits, Malcolm McDowell  Release:  2010

 

Book3    Watch Trailers & Clips  (click here)

 

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by Ian McEwan

Atone

 

At one point in Atonement, the main character, an aspiring novelist, receives a rejection notice from a publishing house.  The publisher explains, “… you dedicate scores of pages to the quality of light and shade, and to random impressions … Simply put, you need the backbone of a story.”  Reading this passage, I had to wonder if Ian McEwan, the author of this wonderful novel, was perhaps quoting from one his own, early-career rejection slips.  I wonder about that because if I have one quibble with Atonement, it would be about the very quality that so many readers adore in their literature:  descriptive scenes in which we learn about the trees on a street, the smells emanating from a nearby restaurant, etcetera.

A lot of people love that sort of thing.  It is the essence of literature, to them.  I happen to be more of a “story” and “backbone” fan.  I think descriptive prose can be overdone, and is suited more to poetry.  But if I’m giving the impression that Atonement lacks narrative drive and power, forgive me, because McEwan’s novel is a strong, strong book — full of “random impressions,” but also a haunting tale of a child’s mistake that ruins adult lives.

 

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Soccer2     Soccer1

 

Hey fans, it’s that time again — World Cup soccer!

I live in Minnesota.  Other than Canada, there is no place in North America more rabid about hockey than my state.  People have been trying to turn me into a hockey fan my entire life.  It hasn’t worked.  Americans won’t take to soccer, either.

Soccer and hockey both suck on TV, and they aren’t a whole lot more fun to watch in person.  I’m sure they are fun to play, but as big-time spectator sports?  Nah.

 

*****

 

Breasts

 

What’s wrong with this picture?

Yes, I understand that breast cancer is a serious matter, and no, I do not want breast-cancer research abolished.  But there is a story in Parade today about the amount of taxpayer money that goes into breast-cancer research, compared to funding for other cancers, cancers which happen to kill many more people.

Here are some numbers to ponder, from 2009:  Number One Killer — lung and bronchus cancer ($247 million for research); Number Two Killer — colon and rectum cancer ($264 million); Number Three Killer — breast cancer ($600 million); Number Four Killer — pancreas cancer ($90 million).  (All figures are for National Cancer Institute funding.)

 

*****

 

Abby

 

I really don’t care if 16-year-old Abby Sunderland becomes the youngest person to sail the world solo, or whatever it is she’s trying to do.  Bully for her.  And if the corpse of Ted Williams attempts to be the first dead body to climb Mount Everest, good for the Splendid Splinter. 

But when boneheaded sailors and climbers get into trouble and require thousands of taxpayer dollars to be saved, well, let them pay for their own damn rescue costs.  Australians are on the hook for little Miss Abby, who now informs the world that she can’t wait to try the whole adventure, all over again.  Why shouldn’t she, if she can get someone else to foot the bill for her next rescue?  From her blog:  “The loss of Wild Eyes [her yacht] will be deeply felt by Abby, who poured so much blood, sweat and tears into her.”

Boo hoo hoo.  Next time, let’s see her pour some money into her own rescue fees.

 

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Joan1

 

Want to know what makes comedienne Joan Rivers tick?  Curious if Rivers believes in God or in an afterlife?  What drives this woman, now 77, wealthy and secure, to still play rundown nightclubs in the Bronx and backwater venues in Wisconsin?

Surprise!  You won’t find the answers to any of those questions in Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work, the new documentary covering one year in the workaholic comic’s life.  You also won’t laugh very much during the film.  There are occasional clips of Rivers performing on stage — and then you’ll probably laugh (I did) — but this movie is not a concert film, and it’s not a very detailed biography, either.

What Joan Rivers is, however, is a riveting look at Rivers right now.   Conventional wisdom declares that people either love her or hate her, but to this reviewer, sitting here entrenched in “the end of the world” (Rivers’s conception of the Midwest, in her view anywhere outside of New York and L.A.), Rivers is not so black or white.  She is more like an odd lab specimen.  She defies every grandmother stereotype, whether she’s competing with daughter Melissa on The Celebrity Apprentice, joking about anal sex on stage, or yelling back at the heckling father of a deaf child, calling the man a bastard.

There are surprises about this show-business legend.  Rivers first and foremost considers herself an actress – not a comedienne, which she considers just another acting role.  She lives in an apartment she deems worthy of Marie Antoinette, yet she also delivers meals to the disabled on Thanksgiving.  She allows the documentarians to film unflattering footage of her surgically enhanced face, decries deceased husband Edgar as a poor businessman, and doesn’t hesitate to name names in a roll call of comics she does or does not favor (Maher, Stewart, and Rickles get passing grades;  Ben Stiller, not so much).

Above all, Rivers is ceaselessly entertaining.  The movie is amusing because with Rivers there is no alternative.  The filmmakers could have placed a camera on a tripod in her living room and left town for a week, and I’m sure whenever Rivers was in view, the result would be hilarious.

We are told that Rivers, like all comedians, is a “damaged” soul in need of constant audience approval.  We read Entertainment Weekly, so we already knew that.  But what caused Rivers’s psychic trauma?  I still don’t have a clue, and that’s my only complaint about this fascinating documentary.          Grade:  B+

 

Joan2

 

Directors:  Ricki Stern, Anne Sundberg  Featuring:  Joan Rivers, Melissa Rivers, Kathy Griffin, Emily Kosloski, Mark Anderson Phillips, Larry A. Thompson, Don Rickles  Release:  2010

 

Joan3     Watch Trailers & Clips  (click here)

 

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