Wait… why would I cap off my Valentine's Day publishing with a review of a movie that played Sundance?
After all, it's a concert film, just Nick Offerman onstage by himself sharing his tips for delicious living, a sort of onscreen companion to his recent book, "Paddle Your Own Canoe." How could that possibly be appropriate for Valentine's Day?
Directed by Jordan Vogt-Roberts, the film could easily be a vanity project. After all, Offerman is an actor, not a trained stand-up comic, and even for the best comedians, a full-length feature film can be difficult to make work. Offerman's an affable guy, and over the run of "Parks and Recreation," I've grown enormously fond of the way he can turn any scene into a gem, often wordlessly, and he's become an enormous asset to indie films who need someone who can come in and crush in just a few quick scenes.
Wait… why would I cap off my Valentine's Day publishing with a review of a movie that played Sundance?
Yesterday on Twitter, someone asked me the simple version of a larger point made in some angry e-mails about my "Winter's Tale" review. Several people accused me outright of simply hating magic and romance in movies, which is silly, and it was @SamShotFirst (Sam Van Haren) who asked me: "Just read your "Winter's Tale" review. What are some films you think handle magical realism well?"
I suggested that this is the sort of a question worth answering in an article, but offered one immediate example that came to mind. "Field Of Dreams."
Now, sure, part of the reason I'll accept "Field Of Dreams" is because they get the emotional side of things right. That's missing the bigger picture, though. The main reason it works is because first it feeds you just enough information to understand who everyone is. Then you introduce the first element of magic. We watch everyone react. We watch them puzzle it through. Then there's another element of magic. And they have to adjust again. And in each case, the moment where they have to adjust is playing honestly, because you have to acknowledge that something outside of the ordinary is happening. You can't shrug it off.
Both times Scott Spencer's novel "Endless Love" has been adapted to the bigscreen, there have been fundamental changes made to the source material to such a degree that it's apparent the filmmakers are uneasy with the book.
Understandable. Spencer's novel is not a sweet and simple love story by any means. It is a look back at the temporary madness that comes from that first wild love that people often encounter, and what happens when it's not temporary and it's not as harmless as people make it out to be. Spencer's novel is dark, and it both opens with and builds to a fire that is truly catastrophic and tragic. Shana Feste's film "Endless Love" shares character names and some plot points with the book, but it is telling an entirely different kind of story, one that almost feels like a complete refutation of the points made by the novel.
Feste's film reconfigures David Axelrod, the main character of the novel, into David Elliot, played here by Alex Pettyfer. David is graduating high school, a blue collar kid who seems to have only two ambitions in life: work in his dad's auto repair store and find a girl that he can love. He's pretty sure that girl is Jade Butterfield (Gabriella Wilde), a rich girl who is also graduating, but she spent her entire high school career focused on getting into a great college, and none of her classmates really seem to know her at all.
When I was first contacted by the creative team behind "Jodorowsky's Dune," they were just inquiring if it was a topic I was interested in. I think it's safe to say that famous films that didn't quite get made is a topic that I find deeply interesting, and this is one of the Great White Whales of unmade movies for a variety of reasons.
Everything about the career of Alejandro Jodorowsky feels to me like it should have been bigger, should have been better, should have made more of an impact on the larger popular culture. "El Topo" and "The Holy Mountain" would have been received in a totally different way if those same exact films had been made 20 years later, and there's a good chance Hollywood would have tried to absorb his remarkable voice in some way. I think he still would have ended up an outsider, simply because that's his nature, but I sometimes feel frustrated at just how niche his greatest works still are.
When I pick my kids up from school today, we are going to celebrate. After all, we are big fans of the "Clone Wars" animated series that has been airing for the last five years. Beautifully produced, the show managed to introduce a fairly large new cast of supporting characters who seemed like welcome additions to the world of "Star Wars," and it pulled off the near-impossible job of making decent use of Jar Jar, and it set up a central tension that was for me and for my sons, more suspenseful than anything in the prequels because we do not know the answer to one very big question:
Where is Ahsoka Tano?
From the very first episode of the show, Ahsoka was assigned to Anakin as his apprentice, and the two of of them genuinely grew as characters and as Jedi over the course of the series. I thought they gave Anakin a more genuine and upsetting arc towards the Dark Side over the course of this show than they did in the feature films. I think these stories really are necessary text if you're going to fully embrace the story they're telling. There is more real "Star Wars" in the five seasons of the show that has already aired than people seem to realize.
The moment I got home from my screening of "Winter's Tale," written and directed by Akiva Goldsman, the first thing I did was download the novel to my Kindle so I could read it. I made it four chapters before I set it aside, satisfied that whatever my problems are with "Winter's Tale" have little or nothing to do with Mark Helprin or his book. Mr. Helprin, you are free to go.
This is one of those books that people don't just like… they love it. It is important to them. When you talk to a fan of the book, they get evangelical about the experience they had reading it. I get that. There are plenty of books that have done that to me, and there are a few of them that I have considered trying to adapt as screenplays. The hard part of that is realizing that sometimes the very thing that makes you fall in love with something on the page may not translate in any direct way to film, a far more visual media. There are things I have read in books over the years that positively devastated me, but I am well aware that the power of the reaction I had is due in no small part to the language used, the precision of the way words are deployed, and something that is piercing as a metaphor becomes somewhat dopey when you see it brought to life by actual people.
Kevin Hart is a movie star. The box office will tell the tale this year, but I think it's inevitable. Hart is a carefully engineered show-biz missile at this point, racking up records and carefully cultivating an engaged social media audience that is devoted to him now. He has an everyman appeal that he maintains with a healthy amount of self-deprecation. He doesn't seem to take things seriously, but that's because he's been so very, very serious about defining who he is over the last decade.
"About Last Night" should serve double duty for him in terms of becoming a bankable reliable movie star. First, it gives him a chance to stretch in a supporting role, and he responds by running away with the movie hand-in-hand with Regina Hall, who plays his opposite number in the film, the other half of his ongoing scene-stealing. Second, it's coming hot on the heels of his "surprise" box-office hit "Ride Along," and the audience is ready. While I don't think things were carefully calculated in terms of timing up front, the end result is a very smart push for Hart at a moment when there is a fair amount of attention being paid to him.
Yesterday, I put up a short piece about the Shia LeBeouf art installation, and I mentioned that I was planning to stop by and check it out myself.
Evidently, I was not alone.
When I arrived today at the Cohen Gallery, the line was around the block and deep into the alley behind the gallery. I was told that it was taking at least two hours to get around to the front, with part of the problem being that there was no time limit that people were being held to once they stepped inside.
I spent about ten minutes chatting with people around me, asking why they were there and what they expected from the encounter, and it became obvious very quickly that no one really had a plan. They were there because they'd read about it, but no one really knew what they were going to say or do inside. Speaking to a few people as they walked out, it felt to me like they were almost sorry they'd participated, but not for the reasons you might expect.
For "About Last Night" to work, you have to buy into the relationship between Danny (Michael Ealy) and Debbie (Joy Bryant), and that's not really a problem.
Part of it is because they just plain make sense on a visual level. They're both striking actors, but they're not kids, which makes a difference. Bryant has a sort of non-nonsense beauty on "Parenthood," and they didn't go overboard to change her for the film. They both seem like people who are at home in their skin, happy with who they are, and open to something good happening. This movie doesn't feel like a standard issue romantic comedy precisely because it's about grown-ups who are trying to do the right thing by themselves and by this person they invite into their lives. The fact that they seem like they're trying to do things right only makes it more significant when they can't pull it off.
When we talked about the film, I wanted to talk about the attitude of Leslye Headland's script and how it gave the actors such great stuff to play, and they were happy to discuss not only the script but the general chemistry they had as well.
When "The Hunger Games" changed hands from Gary Ross to Francis Lawrence, there were nervous fans and plenty of reasons to be skeptical about Lawrence. After all, he's a guy who has made a number of studio movies now, and they haven't all been solid. In the end, "Catching Fire" felt like a refinement of the franchise, and I'm genuinely excited to see Lawrence handling the final two films in the series as well, but that mid-franchise creative shift can be nerve-wracking.
When Marvel ends up with a filmmaker they like and they start seeing dailies that work and a film starts coming together in the editing room, they are not above immediately hiring that filmmaker to do it again. The Russo Brothers are already hard at work on "Captain America 3," and if rumors are correct, James Gunn may be heading back to outer space again as soon as he turns in the first "Guardians Of The Galaxy." Of course, their biggest vote of confidence was in Joss Whedon, who started production on "Avengers: Age Of Ultron" today in Wakanda. Errrrr, South Africa.