Contraband

Directed by Baltasar Kormákur. Starring Mark Wahlberg, Giovanni Ribisi, Kate Beckinsale, Ben Foster, Caleb Landry Jones and J.K. Simmons. 110 minutes. 14A

Like I said yesterday, I'm not much into action movies. But after seeing The Italian Job, I realized I need to give them more of a chance, which is why I saw Contraband. So if you're one of those who often shy away from gun-yielding, adrenaline-pumping, high-speed chase action movies, then this post's for you.

Actually, Contraband isn't so much of an action movie as it is suspense. The story follows Chris Farraday (Mark Wahlberg), a former drug smuggler who was clean until his younger brother-in-law (Caleb Landry Jones) got into the business and botched a deal. It's up to Farraday to save the day, but any other way than getting back into smuggling.

While there are some high adrenaline physical moments and hot chases, the movie is more comprised of palpably tense phone calls and confrontations. Combined with talented roster of actors (well, I'm not so much a fan of Wahlberg but this is his genre if there was one), these scenes make for a captivating suspense-thriller with perfect pacing and occasional bouts of action.

The problem with this movie is that it was (almost) exactly what I expected: a marginally above-average action movie. As I described my usual expectations of Wahlberg yesterday, he was a "tough guy with a warped sense of righteousness," ie. a former drug dealer who wouldn't go to the cops to right a wrong, but would break the law in almost-equally as consequential ways to avoid doing another deal himself.

However, I was taken aback by the supporting cast, namely Giovanni Ribisi, Ben Foster and Caleb Landry Jones. Actually, Jones has given strong performances in a lot of movies recently that have gone unnoticed (ie. The Last Exorcism, X-Men: First Class). I think we'll need to keep an eye out for him.

Overall, it's good. But it's just that. If you love action and suspense, see it. If you don't but you're not really feeling anything else, see it. B

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn, Part 1

(Dawn of the undead newlywed.)
 Photo: Summit Entertainment

Starring Kristen Stewart, Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner. Directed by Bill Condon. PG. 117 minutes.

Like the first half of the book it's based on, Breaking Dawn, Part 1 doesn't totally suck. It's what every 17-year-old looking vampire should be: fun, sexy and, from the right angle, drop dead gorgeous. Even those who don't own a Team Edward or a Team Jacob baby tee may find themselves harbouring a Twihard-on by the badass end credits (seriously, they're really cool) of this easily entertaining film, arguably the best in supernaturally popular teen series. 

Unlike the previous three instalments, this, the fourth and second-to-last entry in the Twilight Saga, Breaking Dawn, Part 1 isn't an overly romantic, cheesy mess. Sure, the vamp make-up is still on the chalky side, and the wolf FX are as howl-worthy as ever (one particularly fuzzy were meet-up will have you over the moon ... with laughter), but the script is tidier, the editing is tighter and the action, both in the forest and between the sheets, is both fast-paced and tasteful. That is, if your taste leans towards the sullenly (or should I say, Cullenly?) sweet.

Haters can blame the new director, Dreamgirls' Bill Condon, for the new, not-so-bad-after-all vibe. He is working with the same sort of girly lines and Stephenie Meyer-penned sentiments screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg has tweaked yet again for the screen, but he makes them seem earnest as opposed to overwrought by not goofing around too much with stylized lighting, scenery and or the indie music soundtrack (see: Catherine Hardwicke's Twilight). Aside from one, PG-13 Magic School Bus-evoking innard swimming sequence, Condon keeps it simple, letting the admittedly over-the-top story speak for itself.

For those who haven't read the book, Breaking Dawn focuses in on Bella and Edward's marriage and honeymoon, and the effect both have on her human life and relationships, including of course, her connection to the other mythical man in her life, Taylor Lautner's Jacob. To avoid spoiling it for you, let's just say the vampire-human union gets bloody real fast, and not in the way your dirty, fang-girl mind might expect.

Breaking Dawn, Part 1 gives fans what they want - actual side booby love scenes and a mini bucket of gore - but it's nothing a 13-year-old couldn't handle. In fact, you could argue that the, ahem, climatic moments are almost too tame. The treatments make sense given the core demographic (teens and tweens) and current rating restrictions, but it would have been nice to see Condon push the limits a bit more, pleasing some of us oft-forgotten older fans.

Speaking of aging, Lautner has certainly grown up since the last film, the ill-fitting Stewart wig-filled disaster that was Eclipse.  The boy has facial hair now, which seems much more in character (not to mention 100 per cent less jailbaity), and bears his teeth this time around, and not just when he's wolfed-out. He's not overused either, which is a nice surprise given Jacob's heavy involvement in the book, where his first-person observations were given nearly as much time as Bella's.

As per usual, Pattinson and Stewart don't do much other than ogle each other awkwardly and make-out intensely as Edward and Bella. But come to really think about it, there's not much else to Mr. and Mrs. Cullen anyway. As Anna Kendrick's ever-sassy Jessica says at their wedding, who else actually gets married at 18 these days? Especially when there's not an MTV special in it for them.

The only thing that really bothered this one-time Team Edward leader about Breaking Dawn, Part 1 was its ending. It wasn't bad by any means. In fact, it was the perfect cut-off. But now I know what's left for Part 2. And if you've suffered through the last, out-of-control hundred pages of the book, you know what comes next bites the big sparkly cold one. Hard. B

Restless

Photo: Scott Green

Starring Mia Wasikowska and Henry Hopper. Directed by Gus Van Sant. 91 minutes. PG

Restless is the super sappy love story attempt by director Gus Van Sant starring Henry Hopper (Dennis Hopper's son) and Mia Wasikowska (Alice in Wonderland and Jane Eyre). Van Sant has always been a director that I keep an eye out for, especially after 2003's Elephant. He does not disappoint in this film in terms of style and minimalism. He catches the current 20 something's climate perfectly. Though there is the ever constant teenage "the world is ending" attitude, I didn't feel it overpowered the undercurrent of new love and fun hats. He really let the two youngens try and work out their weird story on their own, similar to his style in Elephant.

The Filles Take TIFF!: Livid

Starring Loïc Berthezene, Serge Cabon and Chloé Coulloud. Directed by Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury. 88 minutes. 18A

Ever wonder what Drag Me to Hell would have been like with vampire ballerinas, a mindless 20-minute introduction and all French dialogue? Look no further than Livid.
 
Directors/writers Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury screened their now-cultish flick, Inside at Midnight Madness a few years back and said they were overwhelmed by the intense crowd response. They gasped at all the right moments. They laughed when it was warranted. And they clapped like crazy at the end. You get the feeling they made Livid hoping to garner the same feelings from the horror community. The result is all over the place, straddling the line between straight-up bone-chilling imagery and goofy gross-out gags.

Unlike Drag Me to Hell, which made the best of both ends of that spectrum, Livid doesn’t want to commit to either. The first half of the film leads you on one track, assuming you’re in for a standard haunted house flick with a side of icky kiddie slasher stuff. There’s one nice shot of kids in store-bought Halloween masks, but aside from that, it’s fairly fright-less. Once you get past the hella pointless beginning and into the action, it takes an interesting, not to mention terrifying turn. But that all gets thrown out the window by the goofy, terrible CGI-ed ending.

The acting isn’t spectacular and neither is the script, so if you are going to buy into Livid it will be because of the make-up and scenery (both remarkably realistic) or the actual story. The production value is actually rather incredible, especially considering the still-cheesiness of modern horror effects. The kills, though not probably plausible, look so much like the real deal you can’t think to look away.

As for the plot, I’m going to be purposely vague. The reason being? There are some genuine surprises in the middle section. But if taxidermy animals in tuxes, gas-masked grandmas, girls with different coloured eyes and special eye-closing scissors sound like the makings of a mind-blowing movie to you, prepare to have your head ripped in two. B

The Filles Take TIFF!: Jeff, Who Lives at Home

 

Photo: Paramount Vantage

Starring Jason Segel, Ed Helms and Judy Greer. Directed by Jay Duplass and Mark Duplass. 83 minutes. 14A


Jeff, Who Lives at Home is the unofficial sequel to the Signs you’ve been waiting for. Or so the title character thinks.

The new Duplass brothers (they did Cyrus and the lesser-known, Baghead) comedy centers around a slacker dude named Jeff (Jason Segel, I Love You, Man), who is obsessed with the M. Night Shyamalan/Mel Gibson alien flick, its views on destiny and the old adage “Everything happens for a reason.” So when a strange man calls his house asking for “Kevin," who definitely does not live with him and his mother (Susan Sarandon), he assumes it's a sign from the heavens.

Jeff rearranges the letters in former Backstreet Boy’s name, looking for a hidden message and coming up with (of course) “knive.” He then picks up a knife, and the phone rings again. It’s his mom, asking him to get out of the basement and go to Home Depot to buy a shutter. He does as Mama tells him and ends up on an empirical adventure through the Baton Rouge suburbs.

What starts out as a traditional deadpan indie comedy (it’s got that handycam zooming, real-life lighting and everythang!), quickly turns sincerely sentimental. While Jeff attempts to find his next sign, his mother finds herself—and a secret admirer—at work. And his brother (Ed Helms, TV’s The Office), a Porsche-obsessed prick, slowly learns to truly love his long-time girlfriend (Judy Greer).

This disjunctive, oft-overachieving tone will disappoint those looking for yet another Judd Apatow effort. But it's actually the film’s strength. It's never too over-the-top in terms of drama or comedy. Sure, certain sections can be kind of preachy, but we’re taken back down to earth quickly with a side stoner joke.

Segel and Helms pass for brothers with flying colours, bouncing off each other with an awkward art. After all, they’re kind of the same dude—adorably goofy nice guys with overactive eyes. But Segel is a truly gigantic presence, eclipsing everyone with his enormous stature and heart. If this is a sign of what’s to come, it looks like Jeff won’t be the only one with a perfectly pre-set future. B

The Filles Take TIFF!: Peace, Love, & Misunderstanding

Starring Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Chace Crawford, Catherine Keener, Jane Fonda, Elizabeth Olsen and Nat Wolff. Directed by Bruce Beresford. 96 minutes. 14A

The main reason I wanted to see this film was because of Jane Fonda. And now that I've seen it, the main reason I'd recommend this film is Jane Fonda.

When a conservative lawyer Diane (Catherine Keener) realizes she's about to get divorced, she takes her teenage children (Elizabeth Olsen and Nat Wolff) to visit their hippie grandmother (Fonda) for the first time, who Diane hasn't seen in 20 years herself. Things start out awkwardly then take a turn for the better before getting complicated and messy, all thanks to love.

What makes this a film worth watching above all is the acting. Fonda is believable and lovable as the free-spirited, pot-dealing, war-protesting granny. And while Keener and Jeffrey Dean Morgan (who plays a charming fellow hippie) also turn out good performances, it's Olsen and Wolff who really impress. Olsen finds a perfect balance of naivety and maturity and the hilarious Wolff proves to be a potential McLovin in the making.

However, while it's refreshing to see a film so peaceful, positive and pro-love, it also comes off a bit corny and runs into fairytale territory. There is a middle ground buried somewhere; this film just misses it. B

The Filles Take TIFF!: Intruders

 

Starring Clive Owen and Carice van Houten. Directed by Juan Carlos Fresnadillo. 100 minutes. 14A

What should have been a preface in the film itself was Juan Carlos Fresnadillo's introduction prior to the film: it's a film about how fears get passed down through generations. That's exactly what Intruders is about. While it's also about faceless, hooded intruders swooping through windows and lurking in closets, it's also a lot deeper, about the roots of terror and how tightly those roots hold you.

The story is told through two narratives: the first, a Spanish-speaking boy (Izán Corchero) who writes horror stories, and the second through a father (Clive Owen) and his daughter (Ella Purnell) who suffers from nightmares. The horror is carefully crafted, focussing on chilling details in creaks and shadows. The acting is convincing, particularly from the younger cast, Corchero and Purnell, whose expressions draw you in.

Although this film was a bit predictable, the story was whole, which when compared to other horrors with similar themes (ie. Vanishing on 7th Street, Boogeyman) calls for recognition. And the reminder of Pan's Labyrinth, linking to childhood fears and imagination, was nice too. But not nice enough. B

The Help

Photo: DreamWorks II Distribution Co.

Directed by Tate Taylor. Starring Emma Stone, Viola Davis, Octavia Spencer and Bryce Dallas Howard. 146 minutes. PG

The funny thing about history is that it exists only as we chose to remember it, to write it, to retell it. What's inscribed in textbooks and studied in classrooms may not necessarily paint the reality of life as it once was, depending on the experiences that shape the biases which in turn voice the narrative of a particular moment in time. And as we all know, opinions about what happened differ: Just ask Oliver Stone what he thinks of former U.S. president John F. Kennedy's assassination.

And therein lies the problem of the genre of historical fiction, a temperamental spawn of an artist's account of what-happened-when and well, the truth--sort of. Mississippi writer Kathryn Stockett's rendering of African American life in the southern U.S. in The Help, earned her a spot on the NYT Best Sellers list as well as critical scorn for re-imagining the slavery of Blacks in the pre-civil rights movement 60s as a struggle concerning white folk themselves. (Things like where will whites allow their 'help' to use the toilet and what ingredients should they bake into pies.)

And director Tate Taylor (Pretty Ugly People) picks up on the book's self-imposed dilemma and runs with it, all the way, including a meditation on what these answers would look like (comedic, it appears) in his adaption of the self-same book. The film takes place with Eugenia "Skeeter" (Emma Stone) returning home to Jackson, Mississippi from good "Ole Miss," armed with a forward-thinking opinion and a fiery spirit to express it that burns brightly.

An aspiring writer, Skeeter is troubled to find out that the maid who has raised her has since left while she was away at college. Her mother, (Allison Janney) who's battling cancer herself, tells her that she just "moved away" and to leave it be. Poor Skeeter suffers from being surrounded by her equally privileged friends who don't share her view that Blacks are human, too. Oh, and being harassed for not having a boyfriend.

The problem with the film is that it equates Skeeter, as genuinely sweet to the core as homemade apple pie, and her "white-girl," first-world obstacles, with the daily struggles faced by the help, Aibileen (the exquisite Viola Davis) and Minny (Octavia Spencer) in the culture of impunity that courses through their small town and even smaller minds.

But Skeeter taps into her desire be a Real Writer by convincing the women to put their lives on the line and reveal their experiences of working as a maid for rich white folk over the years. The overwhelming sense of white girl to the rescue, consecrating her as a hero for scribbling away on her notepad as Aibileen reveals how son died at the hands of other white people, is unnerving.

Performances by Bryce Dallas Howard, as Hilly, the incarnate of pure, unadulterated racism, and Jessica Chastain, as Celia, the sweet buxom bumpkin who's banned from Jackson social circles for her man-eating figure and white trash roots, round out the film with a populous of white-girl clichés.

A flash of the genuine fear African Americans lived in seeps through the mushy, feel-goodness the film attempts to maintain while relaying a history of slavery and oppression. One moment, Aibileen is riding a bus on her way home from work at night, when the driver announces all blacks must exit as a black man has just been shot. Aibileen is running through the streets, and when she makes it home, she learns this was the actual shooting of Medgar Evers, a civil rights activist, gunned down in Jackson on his lawn by the Ku Klux Klan on June 12, 1963, while his family was inside. Just hours earlier, president JFK had delivered his famous civil rights speech.

The Help, is not based on a true story (although a certain Jackson maid begs to differ) but re-imagines black history through the wide-eyes of a white girl riding in on their despair on her white horse (why not?) and saving them from those more like herself. Admirable, but misses the point entirely. B

Friends With Benefits

 

Photo: worldmovietrailers.blogspot.com

Starring Mila Kunis, Justin Timberlake, Woody Harrelson and Patricia Clarkson. Directed by Will Gluck. 109 minutes. R

You’re probably familiar with the unscientific adage floating around, likely started by guys, which states that for reasons of fundamental genetic differences—I suspect carnal—that men and women simply cannot exist as 'just friends.' Emotions, hormones, body parts—whatever the reason, and believe me, there are plenty, one or more parties develops feelings beyond an amicable tolerance for the other person, forever ceasing their platonic relations—or at least blurring the boundaries indefinitely.

So naturally, a Hollywood probing of the friends-turned-casual-sex-partners dynamic comes along (actually two within a seven-month release date of each other), promising a nouveau illumination of classic male-female entanglement.

And alas, we are sorely disappointed. But don't be too surprised: Hollywood's expected happily-ever-after endings, however unoriginal, or in the case of Breakfast of Tiffany's—spoiler alert!—contrary to the original text, are seldom avant-garde in their exploration of romantic interactions.

The latest rumination on the friendship-based hookup culture, Friends With Benefits, is sadly, no exception. With a premise similar to Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman's just-sex-no-emotions situation in No Strings Attached, which opened in theatres last January, this film sees Jamie and Dylan enter a strictly coital union to have fun without the same messy, sentimental trappings of their emotionally dysfunctional-relationship pasts.

Feelings ensue.

The film opens with both Jamie (Mila Kunis) and Dylan (Justin Timberlake) getting dumped for their flattened, uni-dimensional, gender-distinct problems of Emotionally Damaged (girl) and Emotionally Unavailable (boy). This allows for cute, quippy cameos of Emma Stone and Andy Samberg (of the brilliant SNL Samberg-Timberlake musical duo) heralding the break-up scenes.

This leaves the Emotionally Damaged and Emotionally Unavailable, sigh, back on the market again. Unbeknownst of each other's pair-bonding defects, Jamie headhunts the Zuckerberg-like upstart Dylan in L.A., to be the next art director for GQ and they become instant BFFs. Their sharp, wittier-than-thou one-liners are oh-so perfectly timed and play out like two actors told to be irresistibly aloof in a smart romantic comedy. And like two pragmatic teenagers, they then consummate their mutual hotness and availability.

Like most casual relationships that develop between two compatible, equally attractive people who've yet to openly define what this actually is, the outside world reigns in on their perfectly functional dynamic and confuses them with soulmate babble and the importance of labels. It just so happens that Dylan's prophetic anti-wingman is his charming co-worker, Woody Harrelson's Tommy, a gay sports editor espousing uplifting counsel on finding "The One" and never letting her (or him) go. For Jamie, it's her free-loving hippie mom (Patricia Clarkson) who conceived her in her own equally sexually liberated years. It's also why she can't remember who Jamie's real father is and the reason for her daughter's perpetual search for Prince Charming. Psychology 101 jackpot!

Despite the film's inherent curse of being a Hollywood blockbuster, director Will Gluck (Easy A) delivers a charming, if romanticized, attempted time capsule on our cultural crop of star-crossed lovers. It's not revolutionary, but it's funny and inevitably boasts the credibility of two transitory already-stars—Kunis, a recognized TV actress and Timberlake of the boy-band fame-as bankable A-listers. (Though arguably, both have proven themselves as such with Timberlake's role as Napster creator Sean Parker in the Oscar-nabbing The Social Network and with Kunis' big-screen comic claim in Forgetting Sarah Marshall.)

It's also the best thing to happen to Semisonic since rounding out the list of best North American one-hit-wonder bands of the 90s. B

Beginners

 

Photo: Alliance Films

BY: Manori Ravindran

Starring Ewan McGregor, Mélanie Laurent, Christopher Plummer. Directed by Mike Mills. 105 minutes. R.

“People like us: half of them think things will never work out, the other half believes in magic.” So says Anna, a charming French woman Ewan McGregor’s Oliver falls in love with in Beginners. In a way, these two categories of people are exactly the kinds we meet in Mike Mills’s semi-autobiographical film about a man coming to terms with life and death.

Let’s begin with the magic. Beginners starts at the end. Oliver’s father Hal (Christopher Plummer) has just passed away, and he’s inherited an astute Jack Russell Terrier who won’t leave his side. Sleepwalking through his job and putting life on mute, it’s a relief when he meets Anna (Mélanie Laurent) at a costume party. The actress has a bad case of laryngitis and doesn’t say a word the entire evening. But there’s a connection between the two, and soon they’re roller-skating in the halls of her hotel and vandalizing billboards together. Set to smooth jazz crackling in the background, it’s a beautiful thing to watch this couple fall in love.

But, as Anna points out, there are people who think things will never work out, and in their relationship, that’s Oliver, who hums and haws his way through their courtship. But can you blame him? Prior to meeting Anna, his father passed away after battling cancer, and all after coming out as gay and finding love with a fun-loving man half his age. As Oliver gets involved with Anna, we learn more about his relationship with his father, the things they taught each other during Hal’s illness and why Oliver can’t seem to hold on to a good thing.

Beginners, a darling of the 2010 Toronto International Film Festival, is aptly named. Both father and son are, after all, beginners: Hal renewing his life after revealing his sexuality and Oliver learning to play for keeps with love. But, poetry aside, Mills’s film, penned by the director just five months after his 75-year-old father came out, doesn’t delve much deeper than that.

The strongest partnership is that between Hal and Oliver. There’s a natural chemistry between Plummer and McGregor that makes their roles believable: the former bringing a light heartedness to the film that balances the latter’s more serious character. The scene where Hal returns from a gay nightclub and asks Oliver what kind of music is characterized by “nn-tss, nn-tss, nn-tss” (house, of course) is as loveable as they come. It’s these father-son interactions that will resonate with audiences, many of whom can likely relate to aspects of their relationship.

What stifles the film is Oliver’s romance with Anna, which is awfully predictable and not altogether convincing. McGregor’s brand of Sunday morning charm never quite syncs with Laurent’s wide-eyed quirky, and considering half the film follows the relationship, their back and forth becomes tiresome after a while.

Beginners is perhaps best described as a sweet, sentimental and deeply personal film made by a director who wanted to share a unique relationship with the world. It’s a touching effort that reveals ubiquitous truths about most people’s bonds with parents and lovers, but as far as storytelling goes, Beginners is heavy in reality, and sparse in magic. B

DVD: Just Go With It

Photo: Amazon.ca

Starring Adam Sandler, Jennifer Aniston, Nicole Kidman and Brooklyn Decker. Directed by Dennis Dugan. 117 minutes. PG

If you're a big Adam Sandler fan (like me), you might be a bit hesitant to see this film. At least, if his most recent work is any indication of where he's headed (which is some place far from funny). But hear me out, this one doesn't suck. Don't be surprised if you actually laugh a few times.

If you've seen the trailer, you get the gist. Dr. Danny Maccabee (Sandler) experienced the biggest heartbreak of his life on his wedding day years ago, so he's vowed off love and, although actually unmarried, tricks women into thinking he's in a marriage in shambles so they'll sleep with him. Until one day when he truly falls for a girl and she doesn't buy the scam. So he stages it with the help of his secretary (Jennifer Aniston) posing as his wife. And you know, it leads to a massively snowballed messy lie. The problem with this film is two-fold: Aniston and it's un-Happy Madison-ness.

Despite appearances by Happy Madison regulars Peter Dante, Allen Covert and Jonathan Loughran and being under the direction of Dennis Dugan, this is not a Happy Madison film as we know them. Which in short means that Rob Schneider doesn't say "You can do it!" and a whole lot of very funny others (Steve Buscemi, Blake Clark and Clint Howard) aren't in it all.

But that is kind of compensated for with a few other awesome appearances: SNL's Rachel Dratch, MADtv's Keegan-Michael Key and Kevin Nealon. Plus, Reno911!'s Nick Swardson also has a major (and majorly hilarious) role. And thankfully, Heidi Montag's appearance is so minimal that you likely won't even notice it.

However, one of the biggest issues with this film is Aniston as one of the leads. In her post-Friends days, she's probably most recognized for maintaining her looks, despite appearing in over a dozen films (though type-casted primarily in rom-coms). It seems she has always been and will always be the un-funny pretty girl with man troubles (dare I say, in her rumoured real-life as well).

This is not an Adam Sandler film; let's get that clear. But at least we can be grateful that after Grown Ups and Funny People, this is a turn for the better. Much better. B

EXTRAS: Bloopers, deleted scenes, commentary tracks (with Sandler and Dugan) and featurettes.

Good Neighbours

 

 Photo: Park Ex Pictures
(It's all good in the 'hood.)

Starring Jay Baruchel, Emily Hampshire and Scott Speedman. Directed by Jacob Tierney. 100 minutes. 14A

Were you one of those people who found Mr. Rogers' theme song, "Won't You Be My Neighbor?", terrifying on the first listen—and still dug it? Or did you accept it as at face value—as a sweet celebration of community sung by a man who really loved red, ladies' cardigans—but couldn't stand the sound of it anymore when someone told you otherwise?

That infamous track does not appear in Jacob Tierney's new film, the more-than-good-but-not-quite-great Good Neighbours. But your initial reaction to it will likely define how you will view the psycho-thrilling dramedy. You'll either read right into it and love it, or be unpleasantly surprised.

If you were thoroughly charmed by Tierney's first widely-distributed feature, The Trotsky, there's no guarantee you will love his latest. It's not that it isn't as sharp as that tale of Russian revolutionary rebel yelling. (More on that here...) Or that it's not set in Quebec, the home province of  Tierney and his man-muse, Jay Baruchel (She's Out of My League and more importantly, PMK). Or that it's not a little too proud to be Canadian. (How about some cameos from The Globe and Mail, and fellow homegrown cinematic protégé, Xavier Dolan, eh?) It's got all those things. But it's also got horror by the mini body count-ful. 

Good Neighbours may set up an apartment-based love triangle centred around a young, cat lady-in-training named Louise (Emily Hampshire) and the men who would like to lend her some serious sugar. We may even get to meet-cute Spencer, a wheelchair-bound charmer (Scott Speedman), and Victor, a bumbly school teacher/new tenant (Baruchel), via an awkward three-sided hallway convo. But this is no referendum era rom-com. It's a slow-simmering slasher.

It's never a beautiful day—or night—in Louise's city co-op. Not only does she have to deal with living in the dead of Montreal winter, she's also got to cope with the crazy woman upstairs who actively hates her fluffy room/soulmates and Victor's painfully obvious advances. Oh, and there's a wannabe Paul Bernardo on the loose, raping and murdering women at random.

Louise and Spencer share a strange interest in the killer's disgusting developments, reading any paper they can find for updates. But when Louise's fellow Chinese restaurant employee gets killed, it's Victor who comes to the rescue, offering to walk her home every night. As the murders continue, Louise starts to reassess the people and places she has always deemed safe and what role they can play in her future—or lack thereof.

The rest of the plot is best left buried, as it can be genuinely surprising. Things take an even darker and, in my mind, more interesting turn in the final quarter. The big murder sequence is one of the most revoltingly real on-screen kills to recent date. It has a comical tinge, due to an overly graphic Grand Guignol gag. But it almost adds to the authenticity.

This, and many other macabre moments, owe their effectiveness to the actors, who embrace the story violently. While Baruchel is as charming as he's ever been as Victor, his nervous, nasally laughs and adorkable delivery are no match for Hampshire's strangely off-putting (in a good way) performance. Unlike The Trotsky, where she was not only worshipped by Baruchel but also by the camera, in this film, she looks and acts really rough. She's not an idealized survivor girl in the slightest.

Scott Speedman (Felicity, Underworld) plays with our minds as Spencer, acting like a young, blond Christian Bale character at certain moments. But unlike the film itself, which gives away much of the major twist much too quickly, I'm not going to give you any hints as to which character I'm referring to (although, I'm sure you can guess). Because if I did, I might kill your chances at seeing this slightly effed up Canadian gem. And that would really be gruesome. B

*Good Neighbours is currently playing exclusively at the TIFF Lightbox in Toronto.*

DVD: Vanishing on 7th Street

Photo: Amazon.ca

Starring Hayden Christensen, John Leguizamo and Thandie Newton. Directed by Brad Anderson. 85 minutes

Originally, I planned to see this film during TIFF. But it was playing at such an awkward time that I'd have to go alone. Although I seriously considered it, I didn't end up seeing it. Which was a good call, because I don't think I could have made it. It's actually a pretty creepy film. At least temporarily.

Vanishing on 7th Street might better be named Vanishing All Over the World (except that's a terrible title), because that's pretty much what happens. In one second, darkness consumes all and everyone disappears, leaving their belongings behind, their clothing flattened where their body had been. Except for those who had a light of their own (i.e. those lighting a cigarette or something else along those lines). But it's not just a spooky way of trimming down the world's population and allowing the human species to repopulate; the darkness is still out there to consume, unless you can hide from it (i.e. keep that lighter lit).

The best way to analyze this film is to compare its (potential) scariness with its use of logic (or illogic in this case). Clearly, it's a film that plays off of the fear of darkness, a fear so many of us have. But it's not so simple. In this film, darkness has life, or rather intent to harm. It's not just "What's lurking in the dark out to get me?!" but rather "The dark is out to get me!" And it creeps and it crawls until it can reach you. Then you vanish in echoes of your screams. Scary, right?

But why is this all happening? Where does everyone go? What happens when everyone is gone? No one knows. Which is actually the biggest shortcoming of the film. It's a terrifying concept built on a common fear, but it has no underlying story. It's just a matter of keeping out of the darkness. And although this could have also worked off of our fear of the unknown, that's stretching it too far. If you're sitting through this (like I did) waiting for it all to make sense, just give up from the start. You enjoy it more. B

EXTRAS: Alternate endings and making-of featurette.

Water for Elephants

Photo: Twentieth Century Fox
(Trunk of slighty burnin' love.)

Starring Robert Pattinson, Reese Witherspoon and Christoph Waltz. Directed by Francis Lawrence. 121 minutes. PG

There's something remarkably cinematic about a Depression-era circus. The carnival workers brought magic and make-believe to one of the realist eras in history, delighting and reigniting passion in a generation of children forced to grow up too fast.

Seeing as Water for Elephants attempts to recreate this notoriously tough time under the big top of Hollywood glitz and glamour, you would think it would be a pitch-perfect weekday getaway. After all, the book it's based on (written by Canadian Sara Gruen) was a headline act for bookworms, heralded for its perfect mix of fantastical romanticism and realism. Unfortunately, this adaptation comes across more like a well-worn middle-of-show magic act. It's definitely enjoyable, but oh-so-easy to see through.

Water for Elephants is essentially a non-musical Moulin Rouge! on the set in the middle of Big Fish. The drama follows a young man named Jacob (played confusingly by the tween heartthrob best known for playing a vampire/werewolf-named-Jacob hater, Robert Pattinson) who drops out of veterinarian school after his parents perish in a car accident. With no saving to speak of, Jacob is forced out of his childhood cottage and onto lonesome dusty road. But not for long.

Soon after leaving home, Jacob stumbles upon an travelling circus and immediately falls in love—first with the animals (lions and giraffes and elephants, oh my!) and then with the star attraction, a beautiful horse whisperer/acrobat, Marlena (Reese Witherspoon). The problem is, Marlena is married to his boss, a charismatic but creepily controlling (and animal-abusing!) man named August (Oscar winner Christoph Waltz). And August has no problem throwing non-obedient employees off the train. Literally.

The story isn't particularly surprising or captivating, but Water for Elephants will win you over with visuals. The sets are gorgeous, filled with deep reds and slightly tarnished golds, a clear metaphor for the circus itself, which is struggling to maintain its sheen against the powerhouse that was (and still is) Ringling Brothers. And the costumes are a spectacle in themselves. Reese sparkles in her bedazzled one-pieces, headdresses and a pretty convincing flapper-girl wig.

The acting is also quite decent. Waltz makes for another bombastic basterd, er, bastard—a Colonel Landa lite, if you will. Witherspoon looks and acts lovely, as usual. And while it may not be easy for Twihards to imagine Edward Cullen growing up (let alone to growing up to look like Hal Holbrook), Pattinson pulls off the warmness of a non-vamp quite well. He even manages to fake a fairly decent American accent (for once). If only his relationship with Witherspoon was as believable.

Perhaps it's the age difference or just her innate lack of Kristen Stewart-ness, but Pattinson doesn't come across that attracted to his on-screen lover. You could analyze their love scenes or half-baked glances to excess, but the elephant in the room is ultimately, well, the elephant in the room. Pattinson's scenes with the August's other prize possession, an elephant named Rosie, are the movie's true love story. It's never formally discussed but Rob's perma-grin and longing looks suggest that he and his character may very well have imprinted on the pretty pachyderm.

Water for Elephants isn't the greatest show, or movie for that matter, on earth. But it's definitely not the worst either. Go in with an open mind, some tissues and a bargain bucket of corn and prepare to be semi-amazed. B

Thor

 Photo: allmoviephoto.com

Starring Chris Hemsworth, Natalie Portman and Anthony Hopkins. Directed by Kenneth Branagh. 103 minutes. PG

I don't know much about Thor, neither comic book hero nor mythological god. And I have to admit, although there was a lot of hype about this film, I wasn't looking forward to it much. That being said, this film did pass my expectations. Expectations which weren't too high and not by much.

According to this film, Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is a battle-hungry, trouble-seeking god with competitive brother issues. He's also heir to the throne until his aforementioned traits leads his father, King Odin, to banish him from the heavens, sending him powerless and hammerless to earth. Odin also deems that whoever finds and wields the hammer of Thor shall also inherit his power. Meanwhile, bro Loki (Tom Hiddleston) uncovers a dark family secret and when Odin falls into a sleep, Loki assumes the crown. However, with the discovery of this dark secret, Loki sees his brother in a different light and sets out to kill him. Of course, Thor is now a mere mortal and doesn't stand a chance. Unless he has control of his hammer again.

I didn't see this film in 3D. I'm not a fan of 3D in general, and the fact that this film was only 3D-ized after it was shot makes it even worse. Though I haven't seen the other version, I feel like the non-3D version was a better experience. Imagining this film in 3D seems kind of unnecessary as there weren't many scenes that seemed to call for it. Sure, Thor thrashes his hammer around a lot but there's a lot more to the film than just the hammer. Actually, the majority of the film is about Thor coping without his hammer.

The cast was good. Just good, with the exception of Kat Dennings who was really funny and offbeat, as she's known to be, though exceptionally so. She seems destined for something bigger. Something with a massive cult-following. Hemsworth did well too, bringing an interesting child-like quality to Thor. And yeah, Natalie Portman was in it too, but isn't she in everything these days? (I apologize for any hints of my post-Black Swan grudge.)

Though possibly one of the best parts of the film was the very end. No, I don't mean the fact that it was over, but rather the teaser after the credits. Seriously, it should be a rule for all comic-based films to have some sort of cliffhanger, ie. "In our next issue..." Honestly, I will see The Avengers thanks in huge part to these lead-ins. And because Thor wasn't so bad after all too. B

DVD: The Romantics

Photo: amazon.com

Starring Katie Holmes, Josh Duhamel, Anna Paquin, Malin Akerman, Adam Brody, Elijah Wood and Candice Bergen. Directed by Galt Niederhoffer. 95 minutes.

Werewolves. Vampires. Shapshifters. Faeries. Since she dyed her hair bleach blonde and adopted that sloppy Southern drawl to play Sookie Stackhouse, it's hard not to associate Anna Paquin with sexy beasts and the fanboys that follow. But, believe or not, the Oscar winner still hangs with non-mythical folks on occasion. She just doesn't seem to have as much fun.

In The Romantics, Paquin trade comforts of creatures of the night for creatures of bad habits. And not bad as in performing backwoods voodoo and attending cannibal cocktail hours. Bad as in giving into cold feet and recklessly roaming hands.

We meet the title characters—a group of college friends who have all had flings with each other at least once—at a wedding. Two of the "Romantics"—Lila (Paquin) and Tom (Josh Duhamel)—are tying the knot and while every member of their group pretends to be excited, there's some way-obvious tension. You see, one of the bridesmaids (Katie Holmes) dated and may still be head-over-heels for the groom. And he may just feel the same way.

The hour and half that follows documents all the night-before-the-wedding drunken awkwardness, where things get sloppy and secrets slip out. It's all very familiar, from the late-night skinny dips and the meaningless makeouts to the under-the-stars spill sessions and midnight memories. This movie obviously wants to be The Big Chill for the hopeless hipster generation, inspiring event-based epiphanies and random reunions at lake houses to the tune of empty indie pop (The Bird and the Bee's "Preparedness" is played repeatedly). But really, it's more like The Big Tease.

The whole movie has that amicable, but not nearly amourous vibe that more recent Sofia Coppola movies have had. There's a lot of talk but not a lot of follow through. Despite an obvious build-up, the plot doesn't really go anywhere. And worse, as talented as they individually may be (supporting players include Adam Brody, Malin Akerman and Elijah Wood), there's just no real sparks between any members of this group. They can kind of pull off being old friends but friends-with-benefits, not so much.

Paquin and Holmes are the only stand-outs of this cast and they play off each other quite well, especially in the anticlimactic climax. But you know they can do better, especially Holmes, who has been her best in an indie environment (Pieces of April, anyone?). By the end, you just want to grab her and Anna by the hand and a hitch the next bus back to Bon Temps. B

EXTRAS: Trailers, Behind-the-scenes featurette

DVD: The Last Exorcism

Photo: Amazon.ca
(The devil made her do...extreme yoga.)

Starring Patrick Fabian, Ashley Bell, Louis Herthum and Caleb Landry Jones. Directed by Daniel Stamm. 87 minutes. 14A

Christianity can be a scary, scary thing in Hollywood. Especially in the right, slightly-insane hands. But when it's watered down and teen-friendly, it's can be about as frightening as communion. You know you're not drinking the Lord's blood or eating his bod, but you go along with it anyway, hoping that you'll get rewarded in the end. You could say the same for Hollywood's latest crucifix-filled creep-fest, The Last Exorcism.

Although the finale will have you praying for a armrest buddy (or two), the majority of The Last Exorcism is too slow to make you even think of burying your face in your grandpa cardigan. In fact, you'll probably laugh more than you'll scream. Like when the film's protagonist, preacher Cotton Marcus (Patrick Fabian, or as you probably know him, Professor Lasky from Saved by the Bell: The College Years!), convinces a congregation to praise the deliciousness of banana bread. This random hilarity isn't unwelcome, it's just surprising, especially considering what we've come to expect from films dealing with demonic possession.

Like that other exorcism movie (I ain't talkin' Emily Rose - although there's also definite similarities there), the film follows a faith-less church leader (Cotton) as he attempts to tame the spiteful spirit that has taken over the body of a teenage girl. Taking Linda Blair's spot is Ashley Bell, who plays Nell, a seemingly sweet, but secretly Satanic, country gal, who helps her dad (Louis Herthum) and brother (Caleb Landry Jones) on the farm by day, and kills livestock by night. Cotton hears about Nell through a strongly worded letter from her father, which he picks out of a pile of pray-filled packages. This random selection, he says, will be his "last exorcism" and will be documented by a two-person TV crew.

Unlike the so-called classic, The Last Exorcism is not fully focused on Nell's ungodly behaviour. It's actually more about Cotton (in fact, the original title was just his name) and his personal quest for belief. No wonder it was originally named after him.

After years of successfully faking exorcisms (with the help of some invisible wire, smoke machines and Halloween soundtrack sounds), Cotton has become disillusioned, pondering the validity of Satan, and in turn, God. He's gotten to the point where he doesn't even read the letters sent out to him before he heads on a job (You can bet he'll regret that one...). But as the film goes on, and Nell fails to recover from the normal treatment - a whole lot of praising, holy water and chanting - he starts to reassess his religion. It's a pretty fascinating journey, especially with Fabian at the helm. He's the perfect pastor - charismatic as hell (pardon the puritanical pun), even when he starts shaking in his three-piece suit.

Bell also does a great job as Nell, moving back and forth between the low-key, perfectly pure daughter and the over-the-top, epically evil demon vessel. She doesn't need any garish, ghoul make-up or bright green bile to prove that she's gone to the dark side. It's all in her mannerisms and vocal inflections. Bell did all her stunts, including bending her back way further than it should go. At least for humans.

Sadly, Bell's acrobatics are the only really irksome aspect of The Last Exorcism. Although it's being advertised as an Eli Roth (Hostel, Cabin Fever) film - but be warned gore whores - he's just a producer. There's little to no blood shed here, save for a fairly brutal scene involving a house cat. In fact, we see more plasma in a few children's drawings than we do in the real scenes, which in some ways is even creepier. Just not quite creepy enough.

Original rating: B- On second thought...: B

EXTRAS: Producer commentary (Eli Roth, Marc Abraham and Thomas A. Bliss), commentary with director Daniel Stamm and actors Ashley Bell, Patrick Fabian and Louis Herthum, "The Devil You Know; The Making of The Last Exorcism" featurette, "Real Stories of Exorcism" featurette, teaser and theatrical trailers, audition footage from Bell and Fabian


*Review originally posted on August 31, 2010.

DVD: Case 39

Photo: amazon.ca

Starring Renée Zellweger, Ian McShane, Jodelle Ferland and Bradley Cooper. Directed by Christian Alvart. 109 minutes. 14A

Demon children are too cliché in recent years. Really, it's just a bit too much after The Omen, The Unborn, The Orphan... They're all sickly-pale with dorky haircuts and wear only black. But at least this film isn't called The Case.

Case 39 is about, well, Case 39, which social worker Emily Jenkins (Renée Zellweger) receives. It's a young girl, Lillith (Jodelle Ferland), who's having trouble with her parents and her school grades are plummeting from As steeply downward. When Emily visits Lillith's family, she begins to suspect abuse is happening in the house and one night, when Lillith calls Emily's house at night scared and asking for help, Emily assumes the worst. Bringing along her detective friend and colleague Mike Barron (Ian McShane), they find that Emily's suspicions are true in as awful a way as possible. Lillith is taken to a foster home but has taken an liking to Emily. Emily decides to temporarily play mommy and take Lillith home with her. But when things start to turn ghastly and gory around Emily she begins to wonder if Lillith has anything to do with it.

It's a very quick-paced film and 109 minutes seem to breeze by. It's exactly the pace you need for a film like this, with a bit of a mystery behind it that the lead character begins to unravel. There's no time wasted on irrelevant back story and plenty of unexpected turns leading to you to constantly doubt what you think you know.

However, Zellweger doesn't make a very convincing social worker. Her character too quickly turns on her make-believe daughter as if the sympathy she originally portrayed in the first half of the film was entirely a facade, which it wasn't meant to be. On the other hand, although Bradley Cooper as Emily's psychiatrist best friend seems to be a little timid, it's refreshing to see him in such a serious role and aside from slightly seeming hesitant to fully commit to the role, he's actually really interesting to watch and shows his ability to switch back and forth from comedy. My suggestion: go for the gripping romantic drama next, Cooper.

Next to other recent films in the Satan-child genre, Case 39 doesn't fare too poorly. Actually, you might even jump in your seat a few times or shield your eyes. But half an hour later, you'll forget the jitters and sleep soundly, which is not how horror flicks should leave you. B

EXTRAS: Behind-the-scenes featurettes and deleted scenes.

*Review originally published October 10, 2010.

The Fighter

Photo: allmoviephoto.com

Starring Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale and Amy Adams. Directed by David O. Russell. 115 minutes. 14A

Mark Wahlberg looks like a fighter, doesn't he? Maybe not a boxer, but more like he should be the champ of some secret fight club. But he's a rapper turned model turned actor. Not so tough. And it's a distracting reminder throughout The Fighter, one of the reasons this film is just good, no better.

It's tough to judge a film already nominated for six Golden Globes and building Oscar buzz. You expect it to be amazing, or at least really good. And like I said, The Fighter is good. It's the story of "Irish" Micky Ward (Wahlberg), a welterweight boxer who wants to make it big, though is being held back by his washed-up, drug-addict, former boxer bro Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale). The story is compelling enough, the cinematography is creative enough and the acting is just believable enough. This film doesn't really fall short at much but it doesn't "wow" at much either, save for two brilliant performances: Bale and Melissa Leo.

Leo, playing Micky and Dicky's mother, is nagging and oblivious, trying to reinforce and destructive bond between brothers. She worries and smothers. Leo is so convincing that it's easy to forget this isn't a real person. Though even more captivating in this film is Bale. He's energetic, dark and explosive; he's almost scary.

What weighs this film down is lack of tension. It's almost mandatory for sports flick. After a few stumbles at the start, Micky seems to be on a paved road to success, which may or may not be a depiction of the true story, but this is a film, we need more intensity. Maybe a little more darkness, a little more pain, or a little more agony could have given this film more texture. B

DVD: Salt

Photo: amazon.ca

Starring Angelina Jolie, Liev Schreiber and Chiwetel Ejiofor. Directed by Phillip Noyce. 99 minutes. PG

One heartthrob hubby and six children later, Angelina Jolie's still pulls off a badass attitude. Really, you'd think between feeding time, diaper changes and play dates the mama could never be cool, but after watching Salt, it's obvious she's unaffected by it all.

In Salt, CIA agent Evelyn Salt (Jolie) is accused during an interrogation of being a Russian spy, plotting to kill the president of Russia. Brain scanning software says the man is telling the truth. Suspicious, her colleagues keep her in an isolated room under surveillance, meanwhile, escorting the man she was interrogating out of the building. However, when the man kills his escorts in the elevator, Evelyn gets her chance to escape and makes a run for it. Of course, that's exactly what you want to do when the CIA suspects you of a crime - seemingly confirming their suspicions. She immediately runs to her apartment in search of husband who she feels might be in danger to find that he isn't there. She wastes no time and pulls the CIA on a mad chase. Let the gun slinging and explosions follow.

Jolie's face is made for serious ass-kicking. Her eyebrows slant and her cheekbones are defined. Give her a gun and you have no chance of survival. Even before Salt goes brunette, she ain't no sweet little blondie. Although Jolie's acting throws no surprises, following the genre closely, she fit's the mold so perfectly that it won't matter to action fans. Others, however, might find it a bit excessive. I mean, she does wear all black and wield a gun and is running from the CIA.

Music helps pump the chase scenes, as Jolie leaves a booby-trapped trail behind, wisping through the streets, even inching across the window ledge. You feel as though you're on the case and you can't want to look away because you might just give her that chance she needs to slip past your eyes. Quiet scenes also captivate, as Salt slowly peers around corners and lightly pushes on doors.

It's truly an escapist film. A bit mind-numbing, but it's action done right. And although there's nothing really novel about a story about mistaken identity, at least it's not another one about a man who seeks vengeance over the life of his daughter. B

EXTRAS: Extended cuts, commentary, featurettes.

*Review originally published August 5, 2010.