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Napoleon Dynamite (2004)
Oh, no! This HAS to go...
When my beautiful 21 year old daughter came bouncing into my house the other day, announcing she had come to watch a movie with me, I was delighted. Oh, good, I thought, quality family time! She shows me the box, which looked like a five year old drew it, and I became skeptical. Upon inquiring as to where she got the film, she cheerfully informed me that her friend Stephanie had rented it. My heart sank. Steph, although model quality gorgeous, does not have the taste of a piece of cardboard or the IQ of a coffee table. This did not bode well.
Unfortunately, as usual, my early warning system was spot on. Two hours later, I sat there, perplexed. The WTF expression on my face, in place for the entire film, had been supplanted by a stunned WHY?! All I can think of is that they must have wonderful drugs in Hollywood. Maybe the last surviving stash of 'Ludes, which they feed to studio executives before hopefuls come in to pitch their projects. Why else would they ever okay this thing? Maybe they didn't. It looks like it cost five cents to make. You could download better efforts on YouTube.
The plot... well, there IS no plot. A vague storyline about the run for class president seems to have only discovered itself lost in the hallway about three quarters of the way through this chestnut. When it does rear its wilted head, it becomes a frenetic borrowing session, taking bits from a half dozen movie highlight reels lumped together in a murky montage. First, its Bill & Ted ("Your skit had better be something special..."). Then, it's "Superstar", complete with the sequined bimbos in blue, and the chief nerd becoming the hero of the school after performing a solo disco dance that looks like all of the outtakes from that same movie, "Saturday Night Fever", and a Michael Jackson video.
Now, the only one of the cast I can ever remember seeing is Tina Majorino. As "Shy Deb", she looks more lost than the little map girl she played in "Waterworld". Is she really shy, or is her soul simply rebelling against uttering the awful dialog? The rest of the actors, and I use the term generously, have less range and turn of phrase than kids in an elementary school play. Efren Ramirez is the worst of the lot. Obviously older than his cast mates while allegedly their peer, he's either on very heavy medication or the recent victim of severe head trauma. Shondella Avery is the one bright spot. She acts through her part as if she's laughing AT them, not with them. Smart girl.
The only purpose of this film that I can see, and this is admittedly a major stretch, is that it was made to aggravate a whole load of different groups of people. Latinos, for one, as their representative character needs to borrow IQ points from Forrest Gump. Nearly all of the residents of the great state of Idaho, for another. Every one of them, from the chicken farmers to the checkout girl are portrayed as unflattering caricatures of the actual people who live those lives. I hope to God none of them ever went to the theater expecting this to be a movie ABOUT Idaho. I've actually been there, several times, and have never met ANYONE, especially farmers, who acted like these abject idiots. Ironically, the film never even mentions potatoes, Idaho's signature crop. Heaven help the film makers should they ever have a car break down within the state borders. Idaho is very big. I hope they have current dental records.
Which brings me more neatly than any segue in the movie to the "filmmakers" themselves, the brothers Hess. Where do two assistant cameramen (and the camera work, by the way, is truly awful!) get the go ahead to take some equipment and go annoy the Buckeye State? Until now, I would have said only IN a Hollywood movie. As this is "reality", well, to borrow a thought from "The American President", what did they have, pictures of the studio heads playing golf with Satan? No other logical explanation makes sense. Well, maybe the 'Ludes...
Don't go and see this film. By all means don't rent it, either! You want a "cult classic"? Go rent "DC Cab", or one of Kevin Smith's "Jay and Silent Bob" films. And, don't tell me I just don't understand Generation X, either. I liked Elizabethtown. I understand them just fine. What I do not understand is bad movie making. "Best Film of 2004"?! That HAD to be said tongue in cheek! Please. What on Earth was the basis of comparison? There were nearly twenty thousand films made in 2004! Lemony Snickets looks like "Ghandi" compared to this.
I suppose, though, in a very off center way, Napoleon Dynamite can be thought of as an inspiring film. It at least made ME think, briefly, about going off to Hollywood to make movies. I'm the first to admit I don't know dick about writing a screenplay, or even loading the film into the camera. But, after wasting ninety minutes watching this beast, I do know one thing: Even my utterly clueless butt could've done a better job. So could any kid with some friends and dad's camcorder. Give this one a big miss, folks. As blockbusters go, Napoleon Dynamite is a dud.
Criss Angel Mindfreak (2005)
Are YOU Ready?!
I hate "reality" shows. Why? Because they are as far from "reality" as I am from gracing the cover of next month's Vogue. I admit I detest television, as a general rule. It amazes me the absolute rubbish that fills the ever increasing number of channels.
So, it follows I should hate Criss Angel: Mindfreak, right? Wrong! I LOVE THIS SHOW! There is NOTHING like it on television. That alone should be reason enough to check it out. It has spawned NO copycats, another TV first. Why? Because duplication would be impossible.
Criss Angel: Mindfreak is a magic show. A REAL magic show. Not some guy in a tuxedo and a Vanna White clone. Hardly. It's completely unique, and the sole reason is its' star, Criss Angel.
Criss Angel describes himself as a "provocateur". I agree. He provokes your mind, titillates your senses, and forces you to question reality. Seemingly effortlessly.
The show itself, originally a "road show" , is now in its second season and filmed in Las Vegas. The style is nouveau documentary, lots of hand-held camera shots and disjointed cutaways. Each episode features one big "trick", and follows the intense preparation necessary to pull it off.
Interspersed throughout are interview clips of other magicians and behind the scenes people who comment on the undertaking at hand. Although the pragmatic portion of your brain knows he will be ultimately successful, you still cannot help but be caught up in the building suspense.
The tricks, and it really cheapens them to use the term, are dangerous. Deadly. These are NOT parlor games. Every one of them could easily cause death or permanent injury if a mistake is made. In a season and a half, Criss Angel has set himself on fire, been buried alive, dumped off a boat, manacled and shackled in a shark cage, suspended 90 feet above a concrete parking lot, and more.
Angel has been accused of camera trickery, planting "volunteers" in the audience, and various other nefarious "cheats". Say what you will, the fact remains that these are DANGEROUS undertakings. If you, I, or anyone is locked in a cage, handcuffed, in leg irons, and dropped over the side of a boat without an oxygen tank, we had better be pretty damned quick about getting back to the surface. You run out of air, you drown. Period. That's all the reality I need.
Criss Angel is, in himself, extraordinary . This is not some perfectly coiffed and manicured fellow. Long haired and darkly handsome, this man is in beautiful, nearly perfect physical condition. He moves like a cat. His mental conditioning is even more awesome, his intense focus palpable. He is totally committed to his performances, and absolutely serious about what he does.
You cannot categorize Criss Angel. He is a mentalist, in the best Kreskin like tradition. He is apparently able to pull numbers, colors, ideas and names right out of his subject's head. But, he's more than a mentalist. He's one of the very best slight of hand magicians I have ever seen. Not only traditional card tricks, but anything and everything is fair game. It may be relatively "easy" to "pick a card", but I defy anyone to explain how the man can get a cell phone inside of a beer bottle, drop an expensive piece of jewelry through a glass case, pull a snake out of a woman's purse or a tarantula out of some guy's hat! He levitates people, walks on water, makes a couple walking toward him suddenly vanish and reappear fifty feet away. He flies, he floats, he disappears in a cloud of dust in the middle of the desert. He makes a straight pin travel up his arm, under the skin, to be spit out of his mouth. He gave a girl a voodoo doll in the middle of a busy intersection. She stuck it with a pin, and his chest began to bleed. She freaked. She wasn't the only one.
HOW THE HELL DOES HE DO THIS STUFF? These illusions are done at venues where stringing wires or setting the stage is nigh impossible. I've seen him lift up a taxi and push a palm tree over. HOW? If this is trickery, then the people working with him are VERY, VERY good. Doubtful. Not to cast aspirations on his staff, who are excellent, but simply because backstage people with that kind of talent would be very hot commodities.
None of these people are well known in the industry. Omniscient Hollywood may overlook one or two of them, but a couple of dozen? And, even more implausibly, what Burbank and Broadway missed, Angel was not only able to find, but assimilate into a team? On the credibility scale, that possibility falls roughly somewhere between Pamela Anderson's "naturally blonde" hair and the odds on winning the Publisher's Clearinghouse Giveaway.
However he does it, WHAT he does is fascinating. Sometimes he will teach us how he does a trick, but if you try it yourself you will quickly see, at the least, it requires hours of practice to pull it off smoothly.
I have seen every episode of this show, AND Angel's live show. Of all of his magic, for me, the most incredible single feat was in the first season. All I'll say is this: It involved a charter bus on a dusty highway, a deck of cards, and a girl named Stephanie. I DON'T CARE how he did it! It was simply the most amazing thing I have ever seen. The first season is now available on DVD. Buy it, find the illusion, and watch it for yourself.
So, if you are sick of sitcoms, doze during dramas and retch at reality shows, try Criss Angel: Mindfreak on for size. It's definitely different TV. It's entertainment, in the truest sense of the word.
Wuthering Heights (1992)
A Love Beyond Reason...
As I am a writer, very seldom am I at a loss for words. Yet now, I can find none suitable. I have written many reviews, in many places, for quite a long time. Yet, never, in all of that time have I sat down to write my thoughts immediately after watching a film. Still, I sit here now, trying vainly to describe what I am feeling. What this movie has MADE me feel.
The story of Heathcliff and Cathy is not about love as most know it. It is MORE than love. It is a fusion, a union of two souls separated by society and circumstance, yet bonded so completely that even death could not sever them. Love beyond pain, beyond place, beyond reason.
Never has an adaptation brought this classic Victorian novel so completely to the screen. That, in itself, is high praise. Wuthering Heights had been made 14 times before this, the 1992 incarnation. It is the only version to tell the complete story in all of its dark detail. It is also the LAST time, to date, it has been made. And that should be the highest praise of all.
Why? Because there is no need to do it again. It cannot be improved upon beyond this. Yes, the movie can be a bit confusing, even abrupt in the plot shifts for those who have never read the book. But for those who have: Anne Devlin treats her screenplay with reverence for Emily Bronte's novel. Many whole scenes are intact, the dialog exactly as written originally. The scenery was breathtaking. And the house, the Heights itself, was perfect. Still standing there, after centuries, keeping its own secrets in the silence of its stones.
The cast of actors includes not one single Hollywood darling. Thank God. They would have ruined it. But, because the cast is not overly well known in the US, you concentrate on the PERFORMANCES rather than the performers.
And, it is in these performances this film rises above its predecessors. The actors all turn in solid efforts. Each is true to character, from selfish Cathy (Juliette Binoche) to vapid Isabella (Sophie Ward). Simon Shepherd's Edgar Linton is far more likable than the novel. His portrayal is an improvement on the original, and you actually pity him for being caught between Cathy and Heathcliff.
Heathcliff. An immortal character, like Sherlock Holmes, or Hamlet. Sir Laurence Olivier, arguably the best Hamlet, played Heathcliff in the 1939 version opposite Merle Oberon as Cathy. Until tonight, I thought his was the best Heathcliff, as well. Until tonight.
Tonight I watched Ralph Fiennes play Heathcliff. No, not play. He BECAME Heathcliff. Bronte's Heathcliff. A Heathcliff I had always pictured clearly in my mind, but had NEVER seen before my eyes. Before tonight. This man is RIVETING. He commands the story, seizing it, wrenching it to his will as Heathcliff does the lives of those around him.
Yet, you do not hate him for it. Rather, you ache for him. You look into his eyes and feel every rip in his soul, the agony of every jagged edge in his shattered heart. You watch him wear his cruelty like a mantle, lashing out at a world which denies him the only thing he has ever wanted, the only thing which will make him whole. I cry at movies all the time. Seldom, though, am I torn in a grief so absolute I am left at the end empty, and spent.
I don't know much about Ralph Fiennes work. I tend to like films that deal in anything BUT reality, so have not seen much of him. I loved Red Dragon, but until I read his filmography, I never connected Francis Dolarhyde to Heathcliff, which is perhaps the greatest compliment one can give an actor. Fiennes alone is the reason you cannot improve on this film. No one could ever bring Heathcliff to life like this. The role belongs to him.
I have loved Emily Bronte's novel since childhood. I have read it often. But now, something has changed it for me, forever. No matter how many times I may read Wuthering Heights in future, after tonight, I know I shall never again read it without seeing the face, or hearing the voice, of Ralph Fiennes.
The Great Race (1965)
They Just Don't Make 'em Like This anymore!
Once upon a time, in the days before talentless actors commanded millions of dollars per film fiasco, they made "big budget pictures" with a "cast of thousands". The Great Race is a classic example.
This movie is a ride on the Hilarity Express, from the opening credits to the closing scene. You laugh so hard, and so long, at every scene that you're actually glad to take a breather during Natalie Wood's love song "The Sweetheart Tree", just so your ribs have a chance to stop hurting! The large ensemble cast is packed with a glorious list of award winning actors well able to carry any movie alone. Together, they produce a potent mix of frivolity and timeless innuendo. These are truly the screen giants, not only of their time, but arguably of ALL time.
Tony Curtis as "The Great Leslie", our hero, all in white, is just the right mixture of gentlemanly elegance, knightly chivalry, and the period's chauvinistic disregard of "the weaker sex". He's the perfect foil for Wood's Maggie DuBois, a "modern woman" reporter. She smokes, she cusses, she punches! Leslie is at once fascinated, repulsed, and astounded by her. When circumstances throw them together during the race, sparks fly but the heat sizzles. It is plain to see why these two were the box office "hotties" of their day.
Now, no good story can have a glorious hero without a contrastingly evil villain, right? And Jack Lemmon, as the utterly detestable Professor Fate, is at his comedic pinnacle. ("Max! Maaaaax!") Fate is all baddie and Lemmon joyously takes the role over the top. From the moment we first see him, secretly building the earliest urban assault vehicle on record, the amazing Hannibal 8, to every cheating, sabotaging, dastardly stunt he pulls, Fate is the villain we love to hate! Peter Falk is perfect as poor Max, the Professor's idiot henchman. I swear, the adorable cluelessness of Falk's immortal Columbo was born here, in this role. Unlike Columbo, however, Max never gets it, never ever figures it out. Which makes him all the funnier.
These four people alone would make for a funny film. Now, add to that an around the world tour which includes London, Paris, Rome, and the Arctic Circle, the largest pie fight ever recorded on film (something like 2500 pies were used!), pub brawls, kidnapped royalty (watch Lemmon here in a dual role as Fate and the besotted kidnapped prince. You will CRY with laughter!), smashes, crashes, explosions, escapes, a blockbuster supporting cast including Arthur O'Connell, Blake Edwards, Marvin Kaplan, Ross Martin, Dorothy Provine, Larry Storch, Vivian Vance, Keenan Wynn, a host of of cameos that will delight movie buffs, and its easy to see how Hollywood legends are born.
I don't care if YOU weren't born when this picture was made (1965). You will never truly know what movie comedy is all about if you go through life without seeing this film! In fact, DON'T rent it! Just go ahead and BUY it, because once you see it, there is no way you will not want to own it forever.
This movie is loaded with classic quotes destined to become a part of your own tag line collection. For example: I guarantee you, after seeing this film, the next time you see a Pug, you will at least THINK, if not say outright: "I HATE YOU! Get off of the bed!" This is a movie that never gets stale, no matter how many times you see it. Now on DVD, it will last forever, a true example of the timeless magic of Hollywood!
Logan's Run (1976)
Lastday. Capricorn 15. Year of the City 2274...
Set in a post apocalyptic world where war, poverty and pestilence are non-existent, civilisation exists inside a great domed city. Menial tasks are completed by computers. All negatives have been eliminated, including the emotional attachment of spouses and families. Life is free. Love is free. Everything is free.
Everything, that is, except time. It is finite and limited. From the moment the crystal clear "life clock" is inserted into a newborn baby's palm, it ticks away inexorably toward Lastday. Lastday, your 30th birthday, when the clock turns black and life is over.
The life clocks march through color coordinated phases, from white at birth to final red. When blinking red, Lastday is approaching. On Lastday, those born 30 years before report to Carosel. The rotating Carosel sends its riders high into the waiting lasers, to be blasted out of existence and into "Renewal", supposedly reborn into a brand new life. Carosel, far from being viewed as public execution, is embraced as a joyous spiritual journey toward rebirth.
This is the world of Logan Five(Michael York), a "Sandman", one of the few working humans required by this society. Logan's job is to make sure the system works. The population accepts the rules by which life is lived. If they do not, if they are "one of the misfits", if they choose to "run"... Sandmen hunt down, and "terminate" runners, assuring that the status quo is maintained.
Logan is proud to be a Sandman, and enjoys his job. It's exciting, hunting live prey. Early moments of the film show him summoned from Carosel to chase a runner. With friend Francis Seven(Richard Jordan), he successfully terminates the man. Francis is even more dedicated than Logan, not only accepting the rules of society unquestioningly, but embracing and defending them fiercely.
There are drawbacks. Sandmen are apart from society, and have few friends other than Sandmen. Logan connects to the "circuit", a tunable transporter beam, where one can dial up a willing sexual partner. He settles on Jessica Six(Jenny Agutter).
She refuses him, however. Admittedly curious about the private life of a Sandman, she is repulsed by his job and saddened because a friend was killed on Carosel. Logan questions this assessment, and she offends him by using the same term to describe his profession. ("I've never 'killed' anyone in my life! Sandmen 'terminate' runners!"). Their debate is cut short by the arrival of Francis with two girls who have no problem being with a Sandman. Jessica leaves and the party begins. Logan's world is, for the most part, perfect. And its all about to change.
A number of runners have managed to escape Carosel. As the city depends on strict regulation of consumption and available supply, this is serious. It has been determined that a group of insurgents is operating an underground network assisting runners. A Sandman must infiltrate this network and bring about its destruction.
Presumably, Logan is chosen because he retrieved an ankh from a runner's personal effects. The Ankh has become a symbol of runners, those seeking "Sanctuary", a haven beyond society's control. His briefing by the disembodied computer voice rocks his world. 1056 runners escaped? Maybe some renewed on Carosel... No one renewed on Carosel? As his repeated question goes unanswered, the foundation on which his life long belief is based begins to crack.
Logan questions his credibility. He is, after all, only 26. How would these people believe he was running? The computer initiates a Retrogram. When completed, his life clock is blinking. There is no answer when he asks if, upon completion of his mission, his four years will be returned to him. Told to reveal his mission to no one, he is given the runner's ankh and leaves the briefing, shell shocked.
He decides to seek out Jessica Six. Not only for her radical views, he remembers she was wearing an ankh around her neck. She refuses at first, and relays his request to the underground. They send her back as a Judas goat, to lead him to assassination. The plan is interrupted as Logan gets a report of a runner in the old Cathedral section of the city. Jessica begins to believe him when she sees him let the runner go. She agrees in earnest to help him escape and find Sanctuary.
What makes Logan's Run such a good film is the story underlying the sci-fi. Micheal York's Logan is a man who suddenly finds his whole life is based on a lie. His awakening is further complicated by his growing feelings of attachment to Jessica. His friendship with Francis is seriously compromised as he becomes the hunted one, and he cannot explain his actions. Beautiful Jenny Agutter's Jessica changes as well, confronted with the realities of life beyond the one she has always known and the beginnings of love for Logan.
Their 'run' gives us glimpses into darker aspects of this lighted world: The underground members surviving in the bowels of the city, the outcast children, Box(Roscoe Lee Brown) and his uncomfortably Soylent Green-like food supply. Yes, the script could have had a bit more back story. But the costuming was marvelous, the sets fascinating (who cares its a mall?), and there were memorable moments underlined by Jerry Goldsmith's excellent score, especially the sunrise. Peter Ustinov has some of the best moments. (Cats! Caaats!)
Logan's Run is classic sci-fi, uncluttered by a barrage of special effects. I understand a remake of the original premise of William F. Nolan's novel, where Lastday came at 21, is in the works. I'm sure it will be replete with dazzling special effects, with nary a golf cart maze car in sight. Be that as it may, I'll take this version. Cheesy though some may find it, the acting is marvelous, the premise is still viable, and the love story is timeless.
Blow Dry (2001)
A Cut Above
Kieghley is a small Yorkshire village far from the fumes of the tour bus. Mayor Tony, overjoyed by his town's choice as host for the Year 2000 British Hairdressing Championship, announces this grand coup to a lukewarm response by the small group of townsfolk who bother to show up for his meeting.
Young Brian Allen(Josh Hartnett), however, is very excited. Full of expectations, he approaches his father, Phil Allen(Alan Rickman), proprietor of the local barber shop where Brian works as well. Brian's reminder to his dad that Phil has already twice won this championship is met with a low growl of parental hostility. Phil flatly refuses to discuss it, much less enter.
Blocks away, Shelley Allen(Natasha Richardson), walks the short distance to the local hospital for her doctor's appointment. Here, quite unexpectedly, this "light little film" delivers a heart punch. Watch Richardson's beautiful performance as the doctor reveals the cancer she's been battling is back. As he begins dispassionately discussing her treatment options, she forces him to make it personal by completing his speech with brutally honest cynicism ("Your last two treatments have failed, so its probably trying to tell you summit there..."). He urges her to consider another round of chemotherapy, but they both know she won't go through it again.
Richardson perfectly captures the dignity, and agony, of a bright, intelligent woman who, facing the fact she is dying, decides not to pursue a hopeless situation. Her exchange with Daisy(Rosemary Harris), a terminally ill inpatient at the hospital, is acerbically poignant. You get the sense that she's suspected this for quite some time, and now it's time to prepare to leave this life, and set her affairs in order.
To Shelley, the British Hairdressing Championship seems an ideal way to reconcile many old wrongs. An accomplished hairdresser, she owns the local beauty shop, living upstairs with her partner Sandra. Ten years before, she and husband Phil had competed for their third championship title with Sandra as their model. On the eve of competition, she and Sandra left Phil to enter into their lesbian relationship. Phil never forgave either one of them. Although just blocks from one another, he hasn't spoken to her, or Sandra, for years. Brian remained with his father after the breakup, and Shelley's relationship with him is, at best, awkward and strained.
Now, however, she desperately wants to change all that while there is still time. She wants the old team back together again for one last go. But how? Brian likes the idea but turns her down. He has issues with his mum. Sandra thinks the whole thing is mad, and hates Phil as much as he hates her. Phil wants no part of it whatsoever. His sense of betrayal and deeply abiding hurt are palpable. It seems impossible. Resolute, she enters her salon, A Cut Above, into the competition anyway, to the delight of Mayor Tony, who hypes the entry in an effort to foster local interest.
The contestants arrive with their glittering entourages. These include the infamous Raymond Robertson(Bill Nighy), with his unscrupulous assistant, Louis (Hugh Bonneville), and his daughter Christina(Rachel Leigh Cook), over from America on holiday.
The hotel is full, and Robertson is forced to lodge with a local sheep farmer. David Bradley (Argus Filch of Harry Potter) is terrific as Noah, the dour farmer. He doesn't say much, but shows his sense of humor over his dead relative's hairstyle and sympathy towards Christina for having a git like Ray as her father.
Bill Nighy as Raymond Robertson is excellent. Arrogant, ruthlessly competitive, nothing is as important as victory, including his daughter. Prior to the start of competition, he simply cannot resist the temptation to visit Phil's shop and gloat over the "fall from grace" of his former rival.
The meeting sparks a heated confrontation between Brian, who witnessed the exchange, and his father. Angry at Phil's handling of the situation and his refusal to enter and show Ray up, Brian defies Phil and informs Shelley he will cut for her in the championship. Although pleased, Shelley knows they still really don't stand a chance in the final part, "The Total Look", without Phil. Although his legendary signature event, Phil adamantly wants no part of it.
That's enough synopsis to be going on with, I think. Watch especially the subplots. Mayor Tony's hilarious transformation from pompous small town official into glittering event presenter. The rally of the townsfolk behind their local team. Brian's funeral fiasco. Christina's Technicolor sheep. The amazing Daisy in "Evening Hair". Sandra and Phil in a bathtub on a hill.
Rachel Griffiths performance as Shelley's lesbian lover Sandra is rich with detailed emotion. Her unresolved conflict with Phil, her insecurity at being "only the f*cking girlfriend", her reaction to the awful reality that the person she loves beyond reason is truly dying. And, gloriously, her radiant "Total Look", which has to be seen to be appreciated.
Well. A little more in depth than I had planned, but that's the overall feeling you get from Blow Dry. More than expected. More than planned. It works on so many levels. The lighthearted silliness of the British Hairdressing Competition, of all things. The reunion of two childhood friends, Brian and Christina, who rediscover each other as attractive adults of the opposite sex. The study of a man who must come to terms with the lesbian lifestyle of his wife, whom, deep inside, he still loves. And the moving portrait, throughout it all, of a dying woman's last attempt to recapture former glory and engineer the reconciliation of all those whom she most loves.
Buy this film. Treasure it. And, when somebody asks you how you felt after you've watched it, you can honestly turn to them and say: "Never better, love, never better".
Dave (1993)
"Dave: A Vote For Innocence"
Another "feel good" movie from Ivan Reitman? Who'da thunk it? Seriously, folks, that's not at all a bad thing. Firstly, I must say that I am a died in the wool Reitman fan, and from that perspective, this review may be considered biased. Reitman's nearly incomparable ability to craft sweetly funny, heart touching, tongue in cheek films is at the core of this movie, as well.
The premise: Dave Kovic (Kevin Kline), proprietor of an temporary employment agency and part time Presidential impersonator, is spotted and recruited by the Secret Service to do a brief "body double" appearance for current President William Harrison Mitchell at a Washington networking dinner. Although explained to Dave as "doubling for the President in exposed situations", in reality he is the scandal stopping alibi for Mitchell, currently Lewinski-ing his secretary Randi (a very small part for the tremendously talented Laura Linney). Simple enough, until the unthinkable happens: Mitchell, while in flagrante delicto, suffers a massive stroke and becomes completely incapacitated.
With a little ingenuity, this may have been covered up and smoothed over simply by transferring leadership to the Vice President, as specified by law. However, White House Chief of Staff Bob Alexander (Frank Langella) has other ideas entirely. Seizing on the opportunity to obtain his greatest ambition, the Presidential office for himself, Alexander decides to take matters into his own hands. Enlisting the reluctant aid of Press Secretary Alan Reed (Kevin Dunn), together they convince Dave that, for the good of the country and the world at large, he must continue to double for the President until Mitchell recovers from his "slight circulatory problem of the head". Suddenly, this very down to earth guy finds himself in the most unreal of circumstances, thought of by all but a handful of insiders to BE the actual President of the United States.
Although smoothly sailing at the start, as time passes, things begin to become complicated. Dave's naturally sweet personality, gentle sense of fun and moral character are by no means similar to Mitchell's, and cannot help but surface. Soon, the watchdogs of Washington, and the American public, begin to notice the difference. So does the First Lady. Estranged from her husband although living under the same roof, the more time she spends with Dave, the more keenly aware she is of the change in her "husband". She begins to have her suspicions that all is not as it seems. And Dave, becoming more immersed and comfortable in his new role, decides to stretch his wings and take a shot at actually DOING the President's job for real, much to the growing consternation of Bob Alexander.
Now: Could this happen in real life? Probably not. With all of the security, surveillance and snooping that certainly goes on every day in Washington, could the two "Pit vipers", Alexander and Reed, really pull this off? Oh, hell, no. Would a woman not know her husband even if she confronted him naked in the shower? As as woman, I doubt it. We ALWAYS know. But, to paraphrase the moderator of The Mclaughlin Report, "the correct answer is": Who cares? This film was never meant to be "Murder at 1600" or "The Shadow Conspiracy". No, think of it more as "Air Bud Goes to Washington". A delightful departure from reality. A delicious "What if...?" story.
Reitman films are NEVER believable. That is precisely what makes them so wonderful. Yes, this movie asks you to suspend belief for about two hours. Yes, it asks you to swallow the idea that Dave could fool not only the First Lady, but his cabinet, Congress, and the country at large. In fact, it seems he has convinced everyone except "Oliver", a delicious cameo appearance by Oliver Stone on Larry King's show.
My best advice on "Dave": Just watch it and love it for what it is. Forget the "plot accuracies" and the "believability factor". Watch the actors, who are superb. Part of what makes Reitman films so watchable is the interaction between the players, the subtle sub plots and undercurrents to the story. Sigorney Weaver is excellent as First Lady Ellen Mitchell. Kevin Dunn does a marvelous job with the conflicted Alan Reed, bound by past misdeeds and present schemes to Bob Alexander yet finding a growing respect and affection for Dave. Ving Rhames is perfectly cast as Duane Stevenson, the President's personal Secret Service man. Stoic and unyieldingly correct, he also finds himself becoming attached to Kline's easily lovable Dave, as does legendary actor Ben Kingsley in his role as Vice President Nance.
Kevin Kline, as usual, turns in a workmanlike performance, making Everyman Dave Kovic someone you'd love to have for your own friend. More, he makes you wish a guy like him would actually BE elected President. And what do you say about Frank Langella? He's always magnetic. Those deeply penetrating eyes with their deadly glare, that softly evil voice. Listen carefully to his dialog. Spoken softly, it doesn't do for you to miss his delivery of some of the best lines in the film. His facial expressions say more than ten pages of script could ever. Speaking of facial expressions, watch Charles Grodin as Murray Blum, Dave's accountant friend, especially in the closing scenes of the movie. Hilarious without saying a word.
In case you haven't gathered, I loved this movie. I've watched it countless times, and highly recommend it as a charming, witty and touching break from the reality of politics and life in general. Buy this film. You'll be glad you did.
Sabrina (1995)
Once Upon A Time on The North Shore of Long Island...
Comparisons are hardly ever fair, yet people insist on making them. DON'T compare this film to the original. Who cares? Judge it on it's own merits, and you'll come up with a winner. The interaction between the players is seamless. The dialog is witty, intelligent, at times touching, and always believable.
This "Sabrina" is a delight. A truly classic romantic comedy in the finest sense of the word. Harrison Ford portrays Linus Larrabee, perfectly blending ruthless billionaire and socially awkward male. Flawless in business matters, he's out of his element and totally unprepared for the consequences of what he originally deems a simple matter, turning Sabrina Fairchild's interest to himself instead of brother David (Greg Kinnear), thereby saving both an impending marriage and lucrative corporate merger.
Julia Ormond's Sabrina is just the right mixture of sophistication and innocence. Daughter of the Larrabee's chauffeur, she's grown up on the family estate, yet outside of their social circle, of course. Passionately in love with youngest son David Larrabee, we see her in the movie's opening moments hard at her favorite pastime, spying on David and fantasizing that she is the girl he's currently schmoozing at mother Maude's annual birthday bash. Her father, Thomas Fairchild (John Wood) in an effort to broaden her horizons and get her past this obsession with David, arranges with Maude (Nancy Marchand) to send Sabrina to Paris for a year. He hopes she will learn about life and independence while working in the Paris offices of Vogue.
While Sabrina is away, David meets beautiful Elizabeth Tyson (Lauren Holly), up and coming pediatrician. Coincidentally, she is the daughter of Patrick Tyson (Richard Crenna), owner of Tyson Electronics, a high technology firm that Linus has had his eye on for some time. As his brother's relationship blossoms, Linus quietly begins buying up Tyson stock.
To Linus, everything seems to be proceeding as it should be. David and Elizabeth have finally set a date. He and Patrick Tyson are in serious merger negotiations. Maude and Ingrid Tyson (Angie Dickenson) are planning their children's monster wedding. All is about to change, however. A year has passed. Once again, Maude's birthday party approaches. It's also time for Sabrina to come home.
Director Sydney Pollack does an exceptional job, mixing just the right recipe of romance and comedy throughout. We, the audience, are just as stunned as the movie's characters at the "new" Sabrina. With a Parisian haircut, in chic black with enormous sunglasses, she is nearly as unrecognizable to us as she obviously is to David. In town to pick up a gift for his mother, David, ever the playboy, offers what he clearly sees as an incredibly hot girl a lift home. He has no idea it's Sabrina, and she exacts a small measure of delicious revenge during the ride, watching him squirm uncomfortably as he tries vainly to remember who she is.
To make amends and intrigued by the mystery, David invites her to "his house" for a drink. She accepts gleefully. The charade continues until they arrive at the Larrabee estate (quite a bit of which was filmed at the Harrison Conference Center in Glen Cove, NY), whereupon Linus instantly recognizes her and welcomes her home.
Linus, who never misses much, also sees trouble. Big trouble, judging by the smitten look on his brother's face. Thomas Fairchild, in turn, watching his daughter steam out a dress for Maude's party, doesn't like it much either. This was not at all what he had planned when he sent her to Paris.
The night of Maude's party arrives, complete with a live band, perfect weather ("It never rained on a Larrabee party. The Larrabee's wouldn't have allowed it..."), and, this time, as an invited guest, Sabrina.
Admittedly, there are many actresses on screen today for whom the word "beautiful" is but a pale description. Even so, I would put Ormand's Sabrina on the party's walkway as one of the most incredibly stunning appearances of all time. She is, literally, breathtaking. And David, to the panicked concern of his mother and brother, is done when he sees her. Finished. Forget Elizabeth. Forget the impending marriage. He sees nothing but Sabrina, while Maude and Linus see a billion dollar merger about to go into the tank.
That's enough plot synopsis. Suffice it to say that Linus and Maude decide to get David out of the way while Linus puts right what is going terribly wrong. You'll have to watch the rest of this charming film to see how it all turns out.
The casting is first class. Besides Ford and Ormond, Nancy Marchand's Maude is acerbically intelligent, blending wealthy arrogance (Can't we SEND somebody?") and human compassion for Sabrina, with a deep love, and intimate knowledge of the psychology of her two sons. Greg Kinnear shines as the lovably lazy David, who works hardest at doing nothing productive. Lauren Holly's Elizabeth is the perfect opposite.
The supporting players are no less capable in their respective roles. John Wood is always elegant as the quintessential chauffeur and loving father. It brought a smile to see Crenna and Dickenson together again as the Tysons, and veteran character actress Dana Ivey is a gem as Mack, Linus' watchdog assistant (But he PAYS me to tell him..."). Some of the movie's best scenes are with the remainder of the ensemble cast in the servant's kitchen, particularly those with Rosa (Miriam Colon).
So, in conclusion, I emphatically urge you to rent, or better still, buy this film. Though the Bogart/Hepburn purists will probably flame me into oblivion, I'm sure you'll find it entertaining, heartwarming, and absolutely leisure time well spent!