For my husband's birthday last week, we decided to spend the day at the movies doing a double feature. Since he has a little crush on Reese Witherspoon, This Means War has been on our must-see list for a while, and since I have a crush on the entire cast of Bridesmaids, I was insistant on seeing Friends with Kids. Read on to find out why I feel obligated to give my husband a birthday do-over.
Let's start with This Means War, the latest McG calamity to hit theaters. This time around, the director best known for the Charlie's Angels reboot and unfortunate sequel offers audiences another serving of artificial fluff studded with poorly choreographed action sequences and a plot line that will have you throwing your hands up in frustrated disbelief even with the mandatory suspension of disbelief that is a necessary accompaniment for any McG film.
Reese Witherspoon is lots of sex appeal and very little substance as Lauren, a product tester who becomes a love triangle participant after meeting CIA agents and partners Tuck (Tom Hardy), the dopey doormat for everyone from his ex-wife and child to his partner, and FDR (Chris Pine in a role more suitable to his pre-Star Trek days), the lovable lothario who is capable of change! Just watch! Between the time spent on an entirely unnecessary subplot in which the guys are the target of an international criminal's revenge plot, they attempt to win the heart of and bedroom time with Lauren. Helping her along as she plays the field is Trish, played by Chelsea Handler as Chelsea Handler throwing zingers against the proverbial wall until one of them sticks (SPOILER ALERT: None of them do).
This Means War is already the type of film audiences should walk into with low expectations, and still I was left scrambling for rare moments of anything even resembling enjoyment. In a genre that rarely brings anything new to the table, This Means War fails to use even the tried-and-true shticks effectively. It's not that the film is that terrible or even unwatchable, it's just really not that good, and let's face it–successful romantic comedies depend less on originality and more on doing the same ol' same ol' really, really well.
Despite all of McG's flashy, indulgent attempts at filmmaking, This Means War fails to illicit an audience reaction any more powerful than a resounding "Meh."
Final Grade: C+
Find It: In theaters
Higher hopes were had for Friends with Kids, which features most of the power players from last summer's breakout hit Bridesmaids: Maya Rudolph, Chris O'Dowd, Kristen Wiig, and Jon Hamm, respectively.
Friends with Kids is written and directed by its star (and Jon Hamm's real life partner) Jennifer Westfelt, who is perhaps best known for her debut film Kissing Jessica Stein. Westfelt's Julie and her best friend Jason (Adam Scott from Parks and Recreation) are surrounded by couple friends (the four Bridesmaids cast members mentioned above) who, despite pairing off are thankfully still hip, cool, career-minded Manhattanites just like our protagonists are–that is, until they start popping out babies. Fast forward several years and Julie and Jason look around to find these shells of their friends are now Brooklyn-living (how scandalous!), diaper changing, screaming, can't-stay-awake-through-dinner strangers whom they look upon with pity. But it's not marriage or child bearing alone that has caused this, Julie and Jason decide: it is the combination of the two. Their solution is to have a child of their own with custody and expenses split 50-50 without ever entering into a relationship or even cohabitation (they live in different apartments in the same building). At first, all seems to be going swimmingly in this human science experiment, but as it often does, things get complicated by those silly little inconveniences called human emotions.
Friends with Kids is plagued primarily by two problems, the first being a major identity crisis. The film's advertising and even the first 20-30 minutes of the film allude to the plot most viewers are likely expecting going in, which at first glance seems to be a film based on the idea of what happens when a person is the last among their friends to pair off and procreate, or shock of shocks, has absolutely no desire to do so. Though not an original concept, it was one I was looking forward to seeing at the hands of such a promising cast. Then the film changes gears and becomes what happens when the title is approached as a play on words: friends who have kids together. Which brings us to the other problem: the friends. For a plot that is decidedly focused on Julie and Jason, there is little to no time spent on what about these characters would make us emotionally invested in their future happiness within the 90-minute confines of this film. During a conversation in which the two characters discuss whether kids can be assholes (a scenario played out with far more skill on the Sex and the City series), it becomes glaringly apparent that everyone in this movie is, in one way or another, an asshole.
Friends with Kids depends too much on casting and not enough on substance and character development. We know we want these characters figure it out, but do we know why, other than it's the established protocols for a romantic dramedy? The concept is not a hopeless one, just as the film is not. Westfelt is all the sweet and sincere naivety her self-written role demanded, Chris O'Dowd is entirely likable as Maya Rudolph's man-child husband, and Megan Fox is surprisingly capable as Jason's self-absorbed actor girlfriend, though one wonders how far of a stretch the role really was. Friends with Kids was promising in several ways and sadly failed to deliver on just about all of them.
Final Grade: B-
Find It: In theaters
Martha Marcy May Marlene. Well, what can I say? I liked it. Haha! Just kidding!
Martha Marcy May Marlene, a veritable tongue-twister of a title, is the feature length debut of writer-director Sean Durkin, as well as actress Elizabeth Olsen, the Olsen sister who doesn't come with her own personal doppelganger. Nevertheless, she is instantly recognizable as title character Martha/Marcy May/Marlene, with her wide, sorrowful baby doll eyes that exude depths to a psyche the audience will no doubt wish to delve into. The film begins on a small farm where Martha/Marcy May/Marlene currently resides, that is until a hasty early morning retreat into the woods with nothing more than a backpack and the hope that she will not be found, despite the numerous men and women trampling through in search of her. After an emotional call to her estranged sister, Lucy, she is rescued, from what exactly, we don't yet know.
We eventually learn that Martha has been missing for over two years, having run away shortly after the death of her mother, her only remaining parent. She has been staying in a community working hard toward self-sustainability at a little hideaway in the Catskills. These two years have not been without an indeterminable amount of trauma, revealed to the audience through interweaving flashbacks that mingle with the present so tightly it is sometimes difficult to draw a line between the two.
The present takes place at the lake house of sister Lucy (Sarah Paulson) and brother-in-law Ted (Hugh Dancy), a couple so self-absorbed that it is quickly seen this will be no place for Martha to heal. In flashbacks it is revealed how Martha became Marcy May, as dubbed by Patrick (John Hawkes at his despicable best), the leader of the cult-like community where troubled Martha/Marcy May seeks refuge. Those familiar with the history of the Manson family will easily find parallels, but Durkin saves his film from being a retelling better suited to a Lifetime movie-of-the-week by keeping the focus entirely on Olsen.
This is not the story of a cult's inner workings seen through the eyes of its members. Martha Marcy May Marlene makes its mark by approaching the subject from end to beginning. As Martha drifts through the present, achieving levels of social awkwardness more befitting of someone raised by wolves, we already know how damaged she is. But it is Olsen who makes Martha's damage palpable for viewers in this account of what happens after the kool-aid. Martha's increasing paranoia makes it painfully apparent that one never really walks away from a cult, and we later question whether she truly wants to.
With no spoilers, it is fair to say the ending will split audiences, leaving just as many groaning as those nodding their heads. It's true, Martha Marcy May Marlene has its faults, but they are few and incomparable to the outstanding career-launching performance of Elizabeth Olsen. Moving through the film like a wounded animal, Olsen manages to convey a character who as all at once deadened on the outside and surging on the inside as though she's had a career to rival greats like Meryl Streep and Cate Blanchett. Keep an eye on this little Olsen, though, as she will no doubt reach such acclaim soon. What she lacks in experience she makes up for with talent others dream of, and her performance makes this film one of the better films released last year.
Final Grade: A-
Find It: New to Redbox this week, OnDemand, Blockbuster, and retailers.
Hello, readers. Welcome to Let's Get Reel. (And suddenly I feel as though I should be cueing up some 70s game show music a la The Dating Game.)
I read a joke today about bloggers that goes something like this: "Never has there been so many people with nothing to say saying so much." And here I am, ready to add my nothings to the heap. However, there is certainly a fine line between informative and/or entertaining blogs that add value to the world wide web and the uninspired rantings of someone with too much time on their hands.
I already have a food blog from which, for budgetary reasons, I have been on hiatus (check out Amateur Noms if you're interested), but food blogs tend to fall into the former of the aforementioned categories as they are generally informative by nature or at the very least, pleasant to look at (mmm, food porn). Let's Get Reel has been rolling around in my head for some time now, but it has taken me more than a few self-pep talks to get things going since this type of blog is only as good as its writer, and let's face it, there's a bit of pressure in that notion. Even as I researched my brainstormed blog titles (I had no desire to steal anyone's name), I flip-flopped on whether this was a good idea or not. Then I ran across one blogger who's post Google was gracious enough to pull up, which read: "[Insert Movie Title Here.] Well, what can I say? I liked it." Hell, folks, I can at least do better than that. And with that, a blog was born.
Film and literature have been my not-so-secret obsessions throughout my life, so by the time I was a year into college, I knew the major where my interests would be best suited. Five years later, I graduated with a master's in English, but because of my particular interests, I pursued as much coursework as possible in comparative literature with a focus in film. Now, fairly fresh out of school with two degrees in hand, I may as well spend my time on street corners with a sign that says "Will Write For Food." See, there's not much of a market in this economy for my kind, with all of my fancy-shmancy, highfalutin words and my arsty-fartsy interests.
Ya know what happens to artsy-fartsy people with no way to vent their skills? They spontaneously combust with random acts of criticism and a borderline Tourette-like regurgitation of knowledge. I'm moderately convinced my husband will no longer watch movies with me unless my mouth is securely duct taped shut. This is not a victimless crime, my friends. My friends and family have suffered at the hands of my stifled creativity. If gainful employment is not in my future, there is only one hope for me and my loved ones: this blog.
Each week, I'll be giving my two cents on whatever is in my DVD player or on the screen at my local multiplex. Eventually I'll work out a regimen of some kind, but for now I'll be adding them as I see them and we'll go from there. I genuinely hope you enjoy this cinephile's musings, readers. Because if you don't, I'll be forced to audibly assault my husband with my ramblings again, and nobody wants that, do we?
