Night Flights, August 2010 Edition

These films have maybe only one thing in common: we watched them this month.

One a month or so we corral all the movies we watched on late night television into this feature, hopefully casting new light on older or overlooked films that still have something to offer audiences. They only thing they really have in common, possibly, is that we watched them this month. 

Probably no one enjoys only one kind of movie anyway, so hopefully more than one of these will strike your interest. Most are available on DVD, except where noted otherwise. Many are also available online and streaming on demand.

1. Danika (2006) – Suburban housewife Danika (Marisa Tomei) begins hallucinating all the evils that could befall her three children coming true over the course of a few days: abductions, morally corrupt teachers, girlfriends with diseases, irate neighbors, household accidents. Though her husband (Craig Bierko) and therapist (Regina Hall) are at first supportive, there’s more to Danika’s reality than is readily apparent.

By and large the film does well under Ariel Vroman’s (Rx) journeyman direction, but Tomei holds the film together through her acting and presence, especially the seemingly requisite twist ending that spins the whole 75 minutes before it into what some viewers might regard as a big – and familiar – cheat. As a rental though, or on cable on a slow night, it’s perfectly entertaining viewing.

2. The Legend of the Lone Ranger (1981) – This notorious flop probably deserves an entry all on its own just by virtue of its weirdness. Still, it has its moments: when secessionist warlord Butch Cavendish (Christopher Lloyd) kidnaps President Ulysses S. Grant (Jason Robards) and holds him hostage inside an elaborate Western fortress, the Lone Ranger and Tonto (Klinton Spilsbury and Michael Horse) ride to his rescue, partially to avenge the death of the Ranger’s brother and comrades.

Accomplished cinematographer William A. Fraker (Bullitt, Tombstone) gets the sweeping Western vistas right but falls short on directing the actors and pacing the narrative, with a story that’s jumbled and awkwardly-paced when it’s not just odd: seeing President Grant plant dynamite and gun down outlaws would be strange under the best of circumstances; Merle Haggard’s balladeering of the already-simplistic storyline is intrusive and clumsy. Making matters worse, Spilsbury’s voice was dubbed over with Keith Carradine’s, giving his speech a strange disjointed quality throughout. On the plus side: Lloyd is excellent, and seeing actual cowboy Richard Farnsworth (The Natural) play Wild Bill Hickok is a treat.

3. Eight Million Ways To Die (1985) – An attempt to bring mystery author Lawrence Block’s detective Matt Scudder to the screen (though changing his locale from New York to Los Angeles), this undercooked, overwritten neo-noir remains an oddity in the resumes of all involved. It marked Hal Ashby’s (Shampoo) final screen credit, while Andy Garcia made his leading role debut. Oliver Stone and David Lee Henry adapted the Block novel, though Robert Towne (Chinatown) also contributed material.

As the poster suggests, the final film too closely resembles a sleazed-up episode of Miami Vice while enjoying all the artistic freedom (in this case, nudity and profanity) an R rating can provide. When alcoholic cop Scudder (Jeff Bridges, doing his best) fails to keep a high-priced call girl (Alexandra Paul) from getting killed, he teams with her friend and madam (Rosanna Arquette) and a reformed crook (Randy Brooks) to get revenge on the drug dealer  responsible (Garcia.) The ensuing drama never reaches its boiling point, even if the warehouse shoot out scene (in the NSFW clip below) is riveting from its first fame. Those cartons are chock full o’ cocaine, by the way.

Despite the talent involved, the film has so far eluded a DVD release.

4. Slayground (1983) – Another attempt to bring the work of a celebrated crime writer to the screen – this time Donald E. Westlake, author of the books that inspired Point Blank and The Grifters – this low-budget neo-noir tries, somewhat unsuccessfully, to merge noir and slasher film tropes, getting neither one exactly right while neglecting plot clarity and depth of characterization. The ending borrows liberally from Blade Runner, The Lady From Shanghai and The Man With the Golden Gun, actually becoming the film’s best segment.

Westlake wrote the script himself, but director Terry Bedford focuses on style and atmosphere instead. The two never completely meet, despite capable performances by Peter Coyote and British actors Mel Smith and Billie Whitelaw, playing criminals and lost souls whose mistakes catch up with them in the form of a psychotic hitman trailing Coyote’s noble thief. A minor entry, ultimately, in the neo-noir resurgence of the early- and mid-80s, even if frequent showings on late night cable television back then elevated it into a humble cult status.

5. Not Another Teen Movie (2006) – Perverse curiosity led to a viewing of this 2001 “spoof,” and anyway when you’re on vacation it’s okay to lower your standards. Though there are several laugh worthy moments, it’s sometimes difficult to understand its target audience, as the level of humor suggests modern high school students while the constant stream of references and meta-jokes pander mostly to the sensibilities of Generation X, with the then-current “Young Hollywood” romcoms She’s All That and Never Been Kissed also the target of biting (if gummy) jabs.

As with so many films of its type, the script throws one joke on top of another figuring you’ll only remember the ones that connect, and when that gets hard it provides something to gross you out or shock you instead. Not as lazy as some of its successors but not exactly inspired, either. And remember, star Chris Evans is your Captain America.

6. The House Bunny (2008) – Scary Movie franchise regular Anna Faris stars in this mildly underrated light comedy about a Playboy Bunny kicked out of the Mansion on her 27th birthday – she’s too old, it seems, to remain of interest to Hef and his followers. After getting snubbed by the wealthy, pretty members of an elitist college sorority, she joins the “misfit” sorority of book worms and wall flowers instead. You can imagine what happens next.

The subject matter is familiar, comfortable territory for Legally Blonde screenwriters Kirsten Smith and Karen McCullah Lutz, while Faris is actually, surprisingly charming and multi-layered in her turn as the dumb blonde getting smart for lack of a better idea. Rising stars Emma Stone and Kat Dennings are sweet in their sidekick roles, and perpetual up-and-comer Colin Hanks is charming as the heroine’s everyman love interest. Hefner, probably figuring there’s no such thing as bad press, makes a guest appearance accompanied by some recent real-life Playmates and concubines. So frothy it almost evaporates, but harmless fun all the same.

We’ll be back next week with reviews of some current movies. Thanks for reading.

- Michael Kabel

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DVD Review: I Love You, Man

Sometimes-charming, often flawed bromantic comedy debuts on DVD and Blu-Ray this week.

The big question surrounding I Love You, Man as a film is the same dilemma no one ever wants to ask themselves about their romantic relationship: if you lower your expectations, and if you don’t ask for too much, is it okay when all is said and done to not feel slightly disappointed? Long on setup but middling on ambition and payoff alike, it’s a mildly underachieving film with a few laughs and no sense of having wasted time when the credits roll. That will likely be enough to satisfy most casual viewers, and indeed it’s a film that’s almost impossible to take seriously. It does skirt around and run from some interesting questions, however, questions that deserve more attention than they’re given.

Paul Rudd (Role Models), an affable comic presence if any exists in film right now, plays newly engaged real estate agent Peter Klaven, a man so comfortable around other women that he’s never felt the need, outside of a few acquaintances at his fencing club, to forge camaraderie with other men. When he overhears his fiance Zooey (The Office‘s Rashida Jones) complaining that his lack of male friendship might cause problems in their upcoming marriage, Peter resolves to find a new male friend. His gay brother (Andy Samberg, Hot Rod) sets him up on man-dates – social, non-romantic events that aren’t meant to lead to anything sexual. This being a comedy made in early 21st Century America, of course the man-dates are disastrous.

His luck changes when he happens up on Sidney Fife (Jason Segel), a laid-back investments counselor with plenty of masculine energy. “You seemed like a good dude,” Fife tells Klaven at the end of their first man-date. This lone, direct statement provides the bulk of explanation in what the eccentric Fife would see in the nebbishy, vaguely effeminate Klaven. The two hang out in Fife’s man-cave jamming to Rush’s “Tom Sawyer” or drinking beer, or walking up and down the Venice Beach boardwalk. Klaven’s growing self-confidence – and lack of time to spend helping Zooey plan their wedding – leads to tension between between his love and his new best bud. A third act of awkward misunderstandings and sorrowful longing ensues.

Despite its fashionable “bromantic” twist, there’s little about co-writer/director John Hamburg’s (Along Came Polly) script (written with Dr. Doolittle scribe Larry Levin) that doesn’t feel painstakingly formulaic. All the elements of modern middlebrow-hip comedy are on ready display: there’s a gag about bodily functions, in this case vomit. There’s the post-ironic fetishizing of a classic rock band, in this case Rush. A faded celebrity from twenty to thirty years ago appears as himself (Lou Ferigno). Every character, no matter their age or education, swears like a sailor jailed on shore leave. As for the plot, it’s possible that Hamburg et al. are co-opting every plot contrivance and shopworn gimmick of traditional romantic comedies as  a means of subversively poking fun at the romcom genre. If only anything else about the film were so clever such a idea might become at least a little credible.

Perhaps the film’s most annoying flaw rests with the superficiality of the script’s attitudes towards both sexes. Men are childlike, buffoonish, and desperate for company from either sex. Women are hostile, judgmental, and as often as not mean-spirited. That’s probably true at times, but not to the simplistic extremes presented here. I Love You, Man, like dozens of other romantic comedies, moves on a straight line despite its characters or their relations to one another. If women have to be sanctimonious and men cretinous to get each scene’s point across, well then that’s what’s necessary. It doesn’t help that Zooey’s best friends are sitcommish cliches: Denise (Jamie Pressly) is a shrill smartass in a nasty marriage; Hailey (Sarah Burns) is so pathetically lonely she tells guys about her wedding plans five minutes after meeting them.

The cast members do the best they can, though, and their innate likeability raises the film several notches. Rudd doesn’t push the envelope of his acting repertoire, which means he’s charming and funny and earnest. Segel, slightly more ambitious playing the zen slacker Sidney, struggles with finding his character’s basis; you can see him reaching for something in several scenes. As for the supporting parts, it’s a shame Jones isn’t given more to do except smile or frown according to the situation. J.K. Simmons and Jane Curtain show up to play Peter’s parents, while Samberg is miscast as his brother. Pressly could teach a graduate seminar in playing snarling sexpots, and her scenes with Jon Favreau (the only one here playing against type as her brutish husband), in which the two negotiate sex in exchange for favors (“You’re wearing a cheerleader outfit tonight if I do this.”) provide some of the film’s most quotable dialogue.

If I Love  You, Man were a better film it might raise questions about masculine identity in the  post-Sexual Revolution, post-metrosexual landscape. In a culture filled with the idea of men as pets (the docile milquetoasts of Generation Y) and romantic masculinity as a fantasy notion (Twilight) there’s a lot of ground to cover on what being a man actually entails. God knows there’s more to it than gets presented here. A light comedy isn’t the place for a referendum on gender identity, but in bringing the subject up it seems that the film ought to provide at least a theory. Failing that, more laughs than it does.

- Michael Kabel
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(Note: an earlier version of this review originally appeared for the film’s theatrical release.)

Review: I Love You, Man

The effortless charisma of a powerhouse cast can’t redeem an underdeveloped script.

The big question surrounding I Love You, Man as a  film is a dilemma no one ever wants to ask themselves in a romantic relationship: if you lower your expectations, or if you don’t ask for too much, is it okay when all is said and done to not feel too terribly disappointed? Long on setup but middling on ambition and payoff alike, it’s a mildly underachieving film with a few laughs and no sense of having wasted time when leaving the movie theatre. That will likely be enough to satisfy most casual viewers, and indeed it’s a film that’s almost impossible to take seriously. It does skirt around and run from some interesting questions, however, questions that deserve more attention than given.

Paul Rudd (Role Models), an affable comic presence if any exists in film right now, plays newly engaged real estate agent Peter Klaven, a man so comfortable around other women that he’s never felt the need, outside of a few acquaintances at his fencing club, to forge camaraderie with other men. When he overhears his fiance Zooey (The Office‘s Rashida Jones) complaining at a girl’s night party that his lack of male friendship might cause problems in their upcoming marriage, Peter resolves to find a new male friend. His gay brother (Andy Samberg) sets him up on man-dates – social, non-romantic events that aren’t meant to lead to anything sexual. This being a comedy made in early 21st Century America, of course the man-dates are disastrous.

Modern day warriors: Rudd, Segel

His luck changes when he happens up on Sidney Fife (Jason Segel), a laid-back investments counselor with plenty of masculine energy. “You seemed like a good dude,” Fife tells Klaven at the end of their first man-date, providing the bulk of explanation in what the eccentric Fife would see in the nebbishy, vaguely effeminate Klaven. The two hang out in Fife’s man-cave jamming to Rush’s “Tom Sawyer” or drinking beer, or walking up and down the Venice Beach boardwalk. Klaven’s growing self-confidence – and lack of time to spend helping Zooey plan their wedding – leads to tension between between his love and his new best bud. A third act of awkward misunderstandings and sorrowful longing ensues.

Odd couple: Jones, Rudd

Despite it’s fashionable “bromantic” twist, there’s little about co-writer/director John Hamburg’s (Along Came Polly) script (written with Dr. Doolittlescribe Larry Levin) that doesn’t feel painstakingly formulaic. All the elements of modern middlebrow-hip comedy are on ready display: there’s a gag about bodily functions, in this case vomit. There’s the post-ironic fetishizing of a classic rock band, in this case Rush. A faded celebrity from twenty to thirty years ago appears as himself (Lou Ferigno). Every character, no matter their age or education, swears like a sailor jailed on shore leave. As for the plot, it’s possible that Hamburg et al. are co-opting every plot contrivance and shopworn gimmick of traditional romantic comedies as  a means of subversively poking fun at the romcom genre. If only anything else about the film were so clever such a idea might become at least a little credible.

Mean Girls: Pressly, Jones, Burns

Perhaps the most annoying aspect, one that would be troubling in a drama, is the superficiality of the script’s attitudes towards both sexes. Men are childlike, buffoonish, and desperate for company from either sex. Women are shrill, judgmental, and as often as not mean-spirited. That’s probably true at times, but not to the simplistic extremes presented here. I Love You, Man, like dozens of other romantic comedies, moves on a straight line despite its characters or their relations to one another. If women have to be sanctimonious and men cretinous to get each scene’s point across, well then that’s what’s necessary. It doesn’t help that Zooey’s best friends are sitcommish cliches: Denise (Jamie Pressly) is a shrill smartass in a nasty marriage; Hailey (Sarah Burns) is so pathetically lonely she tells guys about her wedding plans five minutes after meeting them.

The cast raises the script as far as they can, though, and their innate likeability raises the film several notches. Rudd doesn’t push the envelope of his acting repertoire, which means he’s charming and funny and earnest. Segel, a little more ambitious in playing the zen slacker Sidney, seems to struggle with finding his character’s basis; you can see him reaching for something in several scenes. As for the supporting cast, it’s a shame Jones isn’t given more to do except smile or frown according to the situation. J.K. Simmons and Jane Curtain show up to play Peter’s parents, and Samberg is miscast as his brother. Pressly could teach a graduate seminar in playing snarling sexpots, but her scenes with Jon Favreau (the only one here playing against type as her dickish husband), in which the two negotiate sex in exchange for favors (“You’re wearing a cheerleader outfit tonight if I do this.”) provide some of the film’s most quotable dialogue.

If I Love  You, Manwere a better film it might raise questions about masculine idea in the  post-Sexual Revolution, post-metrosexual landscape. In a culture filled with the idea of men as pets (the docile milquetoasts of Generation Y) and romantic masculinity as a fantasy notion (Twilight) there’s a lot of ground to cover on what being a man actually entails. God knows there’s more to it than gets presented here. A light comedy isn’t the place for a referendum on gender identity, but in bringing the subject up it seems that the film ought to provide at least a theory. Failing that, more laughs than it does.

- Michael Kabel
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::