Always a bridesmaid, never a bride

Rachel Getting Married
Review by Nathan Weinbender

Jonathan Demme’s “Rachel Getting Married” has so much life in it. It feels so real, so honest. As a portrait of a troubled family playing emotional pick-up sticks, it is sometimes bitterly funny and always brutally frank, and it is candid to the point that I think a lot of people will be made uncomfortable by it.

The film, written by Jenny Lumet, is more of a document than it is a story, attaining the same fly-on-the-wall authenticity that Robert Altman perfected in his work. Like real life, the movie is often messy, directionless, open-ended. It relishes minutiae, asides, overlapping dialogue; it imbeds us firmly within its universe of strange family customs and household chaos. It is brimming with characters, some of whom demand our attention and others who remain only on the periphery.

You may not appreciate Demme’s approach here—a few people at the screening I attended walked out early—and the prospect of simply watching people prepare for a wedding may not appeal to you. But I love movies like this, movies that give weight to basic human experiences, that create palpable environments and characters, that peer in on a world already in progress. It’s like eavesdropping, and it’s fascinating.

Anne Hathaway stars as Kym, a troubled young woman who, as the film opens, has been given a day pass from rehab to attend her sister Rachel’s wedding, which is being held at her childhood home in Connecticut.

Her father (Bill Irwin) is congenial to a fault—he pushes hospitality and courtesy on everybody, likely to distract himself from his past. Her mother (Debra Winger), who has divorced and re-married, is an almost ethereal presence: She tends to vaporize in and out of scenes, wearing an expression that suggests she’d rather be elsewhere.

Rachel (Rosemarie DeWitt) loves Kym desperately, but she quietly resents the fact that her sister can’t overcome her own checkered past. During the wedding party, for instance, when everyone has nothing but nice things to say to the bride and groom (Tunde Adebimpe, frontman for the rock group TV on the Radio), Kym takes the opportunity to toast and utilizes it as a way to excise her inner demons.

One of the twelve steps, she tells her nervously-shifting audience, is apology, but even as she begs forgiveness, we sense twinges of narcissism creeping through Kym’s attempts at selflessness.

The movie lingers on the minor details of the day—arguing over bridesmaid dresses, washing the dishes, determining whether or not there is enough food for the guests, the band practicing in the back yard as the tent and the folding chairs are being set up.

There are also sequences, perhaps the most effective in the film, in which Kym attends her mandatory AA meetings. Demme finds the perfect notes in these scenes—they feel uncompromisingly real.

I have read some snide comments about the film resembling a wedding video, a criticism that likely stems from Demme’s decision to use guerilla-style handheld camerawork—to be fair, it is sometimes distracting. But I have never seen a home video in which the characters are presented so nakedly before us, and I have never attended a wedding so busy, so joyful, so cathartic.

Grade: A

Directed by Jonathan Demme. Written by Jenny Lumet. Starring Anne Hathaway, Rosemarie DeWitt, Bill Irwin, Tunde Adebimpe, Mather Zickel, Anna Deavere Smith, Anisa George and Debra Winger. R; 113m.

Falling in love is hard on the fangs

Twilight
Review by Nathan Weinbender

Let me address something right up front: I am not a 15-year-old girl. If I was, however, I think I would have enjoyed “Twilight” a lot more than I did.

I can make this assumption because I saw it on a Saturday afternoon with an audience comprised mostly of 15-year-old girls. They liked the movie. I could tell because they were squealing with delight.

There were groups of young girls convening in the lobby after the film. Some of them were clutching their tattered paperback copies of the “Twilight” books. Others were wearing “Twilight” T-shirts. And all they could talk about was how dreamy Edward was. Edward, if you didn’t know, is dreamy. Really dreamy. He’s also a vampire. Go figure.

He also has a penetrating stare—he can look straight through you and down into your soul—and he bewitches Bella (Kristen Stewart), the new girl in town. She thinks he’s intriguing because he avoids her gaze, says very few words and saves her life a couple of times. She also thinks he’s really, really dreamy.

Edward, played by Robert Pattinson, is in a “family” with a bunch of other vamps, but they’re vegetarians. They drink the blood of animals, not of humans, and they co-exist peacefully with mortals: Edward and his “brothers” and “sisters” all attend the same high school, and his father is the town doctor.

There’s a lot of manufactured sexual tension between Edward and Bella, all rendered very simplistically: She loves him; he loves her, too, but is afraid of the consequences of their relationship; she’s willing to become a vampire, too; he wouldn’t dream of killing her, even though he really, really wants to suck her blood.

Teen girls eat this stuff up. They seem to be so caught up in the film’s basic notion (that a dark, mysterious, handsome stranger will sweep them off their feet) that they fail to notice that these characters are so superficially drawn.

But what does it matter what I think? This film was not made for me, or for anyone else who is far removed from the “Twilight” universe. If you are in the target demographic at which “Twilight” has been pitched, you will love this movie. If you aren’t, the makers of this movie don’t care about you.

Grade: C

Note: There is a Swedish film currently playing in limited release called “Let the Right One In,” and it also concerns the blossoming friendship between a young mortal and a vampire. It is a masterpiece—inventive, darkly funny and disarmingly sweet. It is one of the very best films of 2008, infinitely more thoughtful than “Twilight.” My review for that film will be up shortly.

Directed by Catherine Hardwicke. Written by Melissa Rosenberg. Based on the novel by Stephanie Meyer. Starring Kristen Stewart, Robert Pattinson, Billy Burke, Ashley Greene, Nikki Reed, Jackson Rathbone, Kellan Lutz, Peter Facinelli and Cam Gigandet. PG-13; 122m.

Journeys to both ends of the Earth

The DVD Beat
Reviews by Nathan Weinbender

The Pick of the Week
WALL-E
WALL-E is an amazingly expressive character, yet he doesn’t speak. He communicates in blips and bleeps and other sound effects, but he has a wonderfully animated pair of eyes that resemble binoculars and convey just about every emotion. I suppose it would be more appropriate to refer to WALL-E as an “it,” not a “he,” but he—yes, he—is such a lovely character that we soon forget he’s a hunk of metal and invest our emotions in him.

He is a cute, ambulatory robot, existing alone on a long-desolate Earth. Some 800 years ago, when humans vacated the planet and now live comfortably in an orbiting space station, WALL-E’s were left behind to deal with waste management. Our WALL-E is the only one of his kind left, and over time he has developed a precocious personality.

WALL-E is lonely, with only an ever-resilient cockroach to keep him company, and he fantasizes about romance while watching his favorite movie, “Hello, Dolly.” When a robot called EVE shows up to search for plant life on Earth, WALL-E is smitten. But when EVE is summoned back to the human’s space station, WALL-E follows, and he incites mayhem aboard the ship, liberating a group of malfunctioning robots.

This is the point in the story when “WALL-E” sort of loses steam. It goes from an engaging physical comedy to an environmental sci-fi fable that only partially works. The space station is inhabited by fat, lazy humans, who resemble pustules in hovering chairs that they never get out of. They’re not as engaging as WALL-E himself, and it’s too bad that director Andrew Stanton, who previously helmed “A Bug’s Life” and “Finding Nemo,” can’t quite sustain the magic of the film’s opening half hour.

But “WALL-E” is not only a great animated film, but a great film period. Pixar continues to prove that animation is not just a medium for children, and that family films can be sophisticated, intelligent and charming.

Grade: A-

Also on DVD
Encounters at the End of the World
Werner Herzog’s “Encounters at the End of the World” would probably be just another Discovery Channel nature documentary had it not been for Herzog himself. He is such an engaging character, and his off-beat narration is so earnestly kooky that it almost threatens to overtake the images. Actually, I take that back. The images in this movie are glorious, Herzog or not. The director travels to the South Pole to observe the scientists living and working there, and he finds some tremendously interesting people—a man who was nearly kidnapped and killed by Venezuelan militants, another who discovered he was of royal Aztec heritage because of the lines on his hands, a lady who once “traveled from Denver to Bolivia in a sewer pipe.” The world below the ice is even more astonishing. There are moments in the movie where Herzog allows his camera to simply observe, and the sights of the strange aquatic life, the towering icebergs and the vast desolation of the ocean are, at times, breathtaking. And then there’s Herzog at the center of everything. When he secures an interview with an eccentric penguin biologist, what does he ask? “Is there such a thing as a gay penguin?” You have to love the guy.
Grade: A-

A view to a spill

Quantum of Solace
Review by Nathan Weinbender

People will flock to a James Bond movie no matter what. Not even an obtuse title like “Quantum of Solace” will keep them away. Unfortunately, I don’t think they’re going to like this one all that much.

This is 007’s 22nd adventure, and the follow-up to 2006’s brilliant “Casino Royale,” which jump-started the withering series and inaugurated Daniel Craig as the first introspective, empathetic Bond.

Craig is, I think, perfect for the role. He has the same rugged appeal as the best of the Bonds, yet he approaches the role with a haunted vulnerability. His Bond is a refreshing change from the smirking ladies’ men of the past; he’s flawed, rough around the edges and deeply wounded, but he can still kick ass.

But here, Craig’s steely-eyed intensity feels hollow. He’s missing the depth and range of emotion he had in the last film—he broods and pouts and doesn’t say much, and the script never allows him to really command the screen.

I never thought I’d say this about Daniel Craig, but he really fades into the background.

The movie opens with a car chase in progress, followed soon after by a foot chase across the rooftops of Siena. Sounds thrilling, but the editing is overkill, often making it impossible to tell who is pursuing who and where and why.

Disappointing, especially if you remember how breathtaking that opening chase scene in “Casino Royale” was.

Bond’s nemesis this time around is Dominic Greene, played by the weasley Mathieu Amalric, the star of “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.” He’s the chairman of a corporation dedicated to “wildlife preservation,” but, of course, he has a dastardly plan that turns out to be much, much less imposing than world domination.

“Quantum of Solace” is the shortest film of the series, but it feels long and clumsy, with too many ideas, few of them very good, competing for attention.

The story is a mess, the villain unimposing and the editing often unintelligible—director Marc Forster has made some very good films—“Monster’s Ball,” “Finding Neverland” and the overlooked “Stranger Than Fiction”—but he seems to be in over his head here, shooting the action as though he’s being paid per jump cut.

And if you’re going to make a movie in so many exotic locales, let us see the scenery. The movie hops from Italy to Austria to Panama, and it hardly slows down to wow us with splendor of its locations. I imagine a documentary about the making of this movie would be more interesting than the movie itself.

Grade: C

Directed by Marc Forster. Written by Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade. Starring Daniel Craig, Olga Kurylenko, Mathieu Amalric, Judi Dench, Giancarlo Giannini, Gemma Arerton and Jeffrey Wright. PG-13; 106m.

High hopes

Happy-Go-Lucky
Review by Nathan Weinbender

“Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.” — J.M. Barrie

Yes, but is that sunshine always welcome?

Poppy, the heroine of Mike Leigh’s “Happy-Go-Lucky,” certainly cannot keep her sunshine to herself, but she is so aggressively upbeat and unflinchingly optimistic that her sunshine can often turn into a storm cloud.

She is a primary school teacher in northern London who always sees the glass as overflowing. She lives to inflict her happiness on other people, and she doesn’t seem to recognize the hostility with which she is often met. Poppy is so bouncy and energetic that when her bike is stolen she laughs it off—“I never even got a chance to say goodbye,” she scoffs.

The missing bicycle inspires her to take driving lessons, and her instructor, Scott, is a real stick in the mud. He resents Poppy’s perkiness and grimaces a lot in her presence; when he’s finally pushed to the edge, he erupts, and his monologue reveals the darkness that is always lurking beneath the surface of Leigh’s films.

But plot summary doesn’t do the film (or any Mike Leigh film, for that matter) justice. It is not a story but a portrait. It features subplots that often lead nowhere, much like they do in real life.

Leigh is a great writer-director, and he typically explores the drudgery of lower-middle class life in Britain. Poppy is unlike any other character he has created, and this film works as an antidote to his earlier works—can you imagine Poppy encountering the back-alley abortionists in his “Vera Drake,” or David Thewlis’ vicious rapist in his “Naked?” I wonder if she could cheer them up.

Leigh rarely uses a complete script, instead allowing his actors to improvise and grow into their characters, and what Hawkins and Eddie Marsan, who plays Scott, do with their roles is astonishing—how fully they embody people who, at face value, seem like mere cartoons. They’re the reason the movie works so well.

Hawkins especially is completely captivating. She will probably rub some viewers the wrong way—I can say that if I were to encounter Poppy in the flesh, I would likely be irritated by her—but it’s a credit to her performance that she makes us fall in love with Poppy from the first frame.

Grade: A

Directed and written by Mike Leigh. Starring Sally Hawkins, Eddie Marsan, Alexis Zegerman, Kate O’Flynn and Samuel Roukin. R; 118m.

The title says it all

Zack and Miri Make a Porno
Review by Nathan Weinbender

The Weinsteins supposedly green-lit Kevin Smith’s new film based solely on its title. No script, no cast, just the title. Well, “Zack and Miri Make a Porno” does have a certain ring to it.

Zack is played by Seth Rogen, Miri by Elizabeth Banks. They’ve been best friends since grade school, and they live together in a rundown Pennsylvania apartment. When they’re strapped for cash and the power is shut off, they quickly jump to the only logical conclusion: They’ll make an adult movie. Of course.

They recruit the town’s weirdos and derelicts to assist them—Zack’s friend Delaney (Craig Robinson) is the financier, the guy who videotapes the local high school sports games (Jeff Anderson) is the director of photography, and the stars are a stripper (Katie Morgan), a prostitute (Traci Lords) and Jason Mewes.

There’s much drama concerning their locations—the warehouse they buy for filming is demolished and they’re stuck shooting n the coffee place where Zack works—and whether or not our hero and heroine, who have always had a platonic relationship, will do it on camera.

It’s all fairly predictable—that Zack and Miri will eventually realize they’re perfect for one another seems inevitable—but the charm of the film comes not from what Smith says but how he says it.

He’s a terrific writer, and his dialogue hasn’t crackled like this since “Chasing Amy.” His characters have collegiate vocabularies (especially when it comes to the names of bizarre sexual acts), they spout off pop culture references and geekisms, and they deliver crisp one-liners with hardly a stammer.

I’m sure no one in the real world speaks like this—no one, I suppose, except Kevin Smith.

But there’s color to his words, and he knows how to approach crudity from an intelligent angle. He’s helped greatly by Rogen and Banks, who deliver their lines with rat-a-tat immediacy—it’s like foul-mouthed Preston Sturges, or Howard Hawks with dick jokes.

I especially love how Rogen reacts when he meets a porn star who only appears in movies with all-male casts: “Like ‘Glengarry Glen Ross?’” A funny line, yes, but it’s made funnier because it’s a genuine question.

The movie, which plays like a hybrid of Judd Apatow and John Waters, was initially slapped with the NC-17, which isn’t a surprise, considering it features some of the frankest sexual dialogue I’ve heard in a mainstream film. But “Zack and Miri Make a Porno” has a sweet temperament, and its attitude towards sex is hardly exploitative.

In fact, the whole message of the film seems to be that sex without love is hardly sex at all. And when it comes time to shoot Zack and Miri’s big scene, it is so surprisingly touching that it might catch you off guard.

Grade: B

Directed and written by Kevin Smith. Starring Seth Rogen, Elizabeth Banks, Craig Robinson, Jason Mewes, Jeff Anderson, Traci Lords, Katie Morgan and Justin Long. R; 101m.

A mother’s intuition is never wrong

Changeling
Review by Nathan Weinbender

Clint Eastwood’s “Changeling” is a film about faces. In a movie filled with strong performances, its most effective moments come when the actors contemplate their predicaments quietly and allow their facial expressions to do the talking.

It stars Angelina Jolie as Christine Collins, a switchboard operator in 1928 Los Angeles who comes home to find her nine-year-old son Walter missing. Five months later, the LAPD claims to have found the boy alive, yet they produce a child who most certainly is not Walter.

Watch in particular how Eastwood employs faces during that scene. He supplies us with a lingering close-up of the young boy as he gets off the train. Is this the same boy from scenes before? If not, they certainly look similar. And watch how creeping uncertainty plays across Jolie’s face—we understand exactly what’s going through her mind.

And later, when Christine tells Captain Jones (Jeffrey Donovan), the man in charge of her case, that the boy he brought back is the wrong one, he has her dismissed to the local sanitarium as a means of wiping the LAPD’s hands clean of the incident. But look at his face as Christine is dragged screaming from his office, as he stands alone by the window: He knows he’s made a mistake.

And notice how Eastwood and his cinematographer Tom Stern almost always cast faces in half-shadow. Not only does it give the film an unshakeable noir feel, but it casts a pall of doubt over every character in the movie: Who can we trust? Are they who they say they are? Are there other, darker ulterior motives at work?

It’s a marvel how seamlessly Jolie, who is one of Hollywood’s most recognizable actresses, fits into the film’s period atmosphere. Much like her criminally unheralded work in last year’s “A Mighty Heart,” Jolie plays a dignified woman, and she holds her composure, even when it contradicts her motherly instincts.

There is also some marvelous supporting work on display here: John Malkovich as a radio preacher determined to uncover police corruption, Jason Butler Harner as the man who may be responsible for Walter’s disappearance, Geoff Pierson as a no-nonsense prosecuting attorney, Amy Ryan as a prostitute who was thrown into the mental hospital because she threatened a cop with legal action after he beat her. It would be a travesty if all of these performances were ignored come Oscar time.

Eastwood is a no-frills filmmaker, and he allows his story to unfold simply. “Changeling” is a dark film, both devastating and maddening—devastating because this particular case ended with grisly discoveries, maddening because corruption and greed overtook the investigation and put a poor, defenseless woman through such travails.

But it is not without hope (it’s actually the last word spoken in the film), and Jolie is so good here that she almost doesn’t need to speak. It’s all in her face.

Grade: A-

Directed by Clint Eastwood. Written by J. Michael Straczynski. Starring Angelina Jolie, John Malkovich, Jeffrey Donovan, Colm Feore, Michael Kelly, Jason Butler Harner, Geoff Pierson, Denis O’Hare and Amy Ryan. R; 141m.