Early on in “Away We Go”, Maya Rudolph’s character asks her boyfriend, “are we fuck-ups?” Because Dave Eggers co-wrote the script, the answer is surely a resounding “yes”. In an earlier post mentioning Eggers’ first novel, I said “Eggers is a great stylist, but must all of his books feature such aimless losers?” In truth, I’ve only read two of his books, but that’s kind of how I felt about “Away We Go”.
The movie’s plot is frustratingly thin. Verona (Maya Rudoplh) and Bert (John Krasinski) are expecting a baby, and so travel the country looking for a new home to raise a family. The film’s inciting incident–Bert’s parents announce they’re moving to Belgium–reveals the protagonists as selfish slackers. It’s as though we’re watching Juno and Paulie, fifteen years later. This isn’t really a legitimate critique of the film, but I found the lead characters’ charmless entitlement really frustrating. So much so that it distracted from my enjoyment of the film.
Which is too bad, because the movie is comprised of a bunch of great scenes. The script, though overly concerned with meta-discussions of language, feels truthful, and the supporting cast–Jeff Daniels, Catherine O’Hara, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Paul Schneider, among others–are all excellent in their one-off scenes. But the movie never seems to coalesce into a fully-realized work of art. Like Eggers’s books, it meanders.
Sam Mendes directs, so the film is a visual treat. In “American Beauty” and “Revolutionary Road”, the British director seemed a little obsessed with the American suburb. In this movie, Mendes heads out on the highway, looking for adventure. The result is splendid road trip fare, from Phoenix to Montreal.
And even though they express themselves with a measure of diffidence, it’s clear that they are acutely, at times painfully, aware of their special status as uniquely sensitive, caring, smart and cool beings on a planet full of cretins and failures.
Last Sunday night, as we were packing to come down to Kentucky, I was channel-surfing. I discovered that the movie “Elizabethtown” had just started, so we stopped packing and watched it. I’d seen it before, but I’m a fan of writer-director Cameron Crowe’s work, and, besides, who likes packing?
If you haven’t seen it, the film tells the story of Drew Baylor, played by Orland Bloom. When his father dies suddenly, he must return to his ancestral home of Elizabethtown, Kentucky. He meets and falls in love with a flight attendant, played by Kirsten Dunst, unsullen and doing her best work.
Elizabethtown, as it happens, is only about 40 km from where we were staying.
Taking the movie and the town’s proximity as a bit of a sign, we made a short road trip there. It’s pretty unremarkable, and as far as I could tell the town has resisted the urge to exploit any connection with the movie. We did have a nice dinner at the Back Home Restaurant, which is everything the name promises. I had potato-wrapped cod, and homemade coconut cream pie for dessert.
On our way to Elizabethtown, I was scanning the local radio stations (the radio mix here was much better than in Texas) and happened upon U2’s “Pride (In the Name of Love)”. That song is featured on the “Elizabethtown” soundtrack when, in the midst of his own road trip, Drew visits the scene of Martin Luther King’s assasination.
We decided to spend our last night in Kentucky in Louisville. We used Hotwire to pick a hotel. As you may know, Hotwire shows you pricing and details for hotels that match your search without disclosing the actual name of the hotel. You book (often at a robust discount) and then get notified of where you’re staying.
We got a very favourable rate at a downtown historic hotel. It’s turns out to be the Brown Hotel, where Drew stays and where much of the second act of “Elizabethtown” takes place.
Is Cameron Crowe trying to tell us something? I don’t think so, but the coincidences were too numerous not to remark upon.
However, I find his skewering unsuspecting private citizens–even if they’re ignorant or bigoted–rather cruel. Plus, there’s plenty of evidence that he and his producers actively mislead his subjects before filming them. When they sign the disclaimer, they’re agreeing to a deceptive and unfair bargain.
I was interested, then, to read this Georgia Straight piece about the 2009 DOXA Documentary Film Festival, and a panel on the ethics of film making. It focuses on a documentary called Carmen Meets Borat, which discusses the impact Cohen’s antics had on a poor Romanian 17-year-old. From the film’s creator, Dutch director Mercedes Stalenhoef:
“These people were not informed of what they were participating in,” Stalenhoef observes in a call from Poland, where she is attending a film festival. “He [Cohen] told them, ‘It’s a documentary,’ and that’s what they thought. And then it was a comedy, and they were called nasty things. I think if you make a film, you should inform people so they can decide for themselves if they want to participate, and how much money they want for it.…They [the villagers] got not so much money [from Cohen’s crew]—like, three euros.”
And here’s a clip from the documentary:
I’m not sure where the new Cohen film Brüno will fall on the public-private paradigm. Attention-seeking fashion designers certainly deserve satire, but judging by the trailer, it looks like there are plenty of innocent victims as well.
I have a small bladder, and often get a drink at the movies. So I’m often presented with the thorny problem of when to go to the bathroom during a film. I think I’m pretty good at picking the best moment, when I’m unlikely to miss any major plot points. Of course, the better the movie, the more difficult it is to choose the right time.
Yesterday James sent me a link to RunPee.com (via Gizmodo). The site is down at the moment–too much attention?–but it apparently promises a very special kind of movie review. RunPee will tell you, as you might have guessed, when you should run to the bathroom and pee. Yet another problem solved by the internet.
I’m not a Trekkie, nor a Trekker. I’m not even a Star Trek enthusiast. I’ve seen most of the movies and some of the original series. I inconsistently watched “Star Trek: The Next Generation” through my adolescence, but then theatre school proved more than enough distraction. That said, whether dystopian or utopian, I’m always willing to give a science-fiction movie a try (for example, I look forward to Moon–autoplaying trailer ahead).
I was optimistic, this weekend, when I went to the new Star Trek movie. It’s creatively called “Star Trek”. I was encouraged by the director J. J. Abrams’s pedigree, and the raucous energy of the trailer. I wasn’t disappointed.
It’s an entertaning, rompin’ space opera. The first ten minutes are–as they must be in any good action movie–superb, full of the riotous energy that was so often missing from previous, more staid Star Trek movie. Abrams has assembled an excellent yet, by big budget movie standards, unknown cast. They look just enough like the original Star Trek actors to be convincing, yet they’re different enough for us not to be constantly reminded of the elder actors’ portrayals. The movie generally does a great job of recognizing its place in the Star Trek canon without getting bogged down in silly cameos or stunts to win the sympathy of hardcore fans (much to their dismay).
With a swashbuckling style (there’s actually a bit of swordplay in one scene) and unfamiliar cast, this “Star Trek” reminded me a lot of the first (by which I mean the 1977 movie) “Star Wars”. As it happens, several of the creative leaders on the “Star Trek” movie cite “Star Wars” as a major influence, including writer Roberto Orci. I was listening to the always-enjoyable Slate Spoiler Special podcast about “Star Trek”, and reviewer Dan Kois compared the film to Joss Whedon’s “Serenity”. I agree, I guess, though I thought “Serenity” itself owed a lot to “Star Wars”.
After seeing the dismal, rote “Wolverine”, “Star Trek” was the blockbuster breath of fresh air I was hoping it would be. You’d have to be a serious Debbie Downer not to enjoy it.
Derek points out that, like the Daniel Craig Bond movies, this film has redeemed the prequel.
UPDATE: I happened upon this video, which highlights the similarities between Star Wars and the new Star Trek movie. I blame Joseph Conrad:
While reading about the new History Channel series Life Without People (brief review: fun, highly derivative of the excellent World Without Us, but the movie-guy narration is ridiculously overblown), I happened upon a reference to the seventies BBC TV post-apocalyptic TV series Survivors. It turns out that they’re in the midst of remaking the series–they’re currently shooting season (which, in BBC terms, probably means six episodes) two.
I really dig post-apocalyptic works of art, so I immediately went looking to watch the remade series. I read on this (Official? Unofficial? Hard to tell) blog that season one was available on iTunes. Great, I thought, I’ve got some travel later in the week, I’ll plunk down my 20 bucks or whatever and download them.
Alas, “Survivors” is not available on iTunes Canada. Nor, as far as I can tell, is it available on the American or Canadian Amazon sites. I’d gladly pay for the show, even with iTunes’s imperfect system, but I can’t. What’s left? Illegally downloading the show using BitTorrent.
The Excellent Yet Distant Online Content Distribution Model
This is, of course, a very common complaint. Over the last decade, as Cory Doctorow likes to say, content producers must be ““dragged kicking and screaming to the money tree”. Farhad Manjoo reflects this ethos, and describes some of the reasons behind it, in his latest Slate article:
In my dreams, here’s what it would look like: a site that offers a huge selection—50,000 or more titles to choose from, with lots of Hollywood new releases, indies, and a smorgasbord of old films and TV shows. (By comparison, Netflix says it offers more than 100,000 titles.)
Things, of course, are even worse up here in the Canadian digital ghetto.
Those chants at the start of the trailer are the crowd saying “Ali bomaye”, which means “Ali, kill him”, in reference to his historic ‘Rumble in the Jungle’ fight with George Foreman.
I’ve been a bit remiss in writing blurb reviews of movies that I’ve seen over the last couple of months. It hasn’t exactly been chock full of winners. I’ve added these to the big list of every movie I see in 2009.
Watchmen - 6/10 - I reviewed it elsewhere, but it’s essentially two hours of back story and one hour of a pretty ordinary plot. It’s a movie made (and a story told) 25 years too late.
One Week - 6.5/10 - A love letter to our nation (at least the half between Toronto and Vancouver). It’s as much a travelogue as a film, following a stricken Joshua Jackson as he spontaneously rides his motorcycle out west. The script is wonderful in places, and quite clunky in others. I liked the lead performances (I could watch Liane Balaban read census results all day), and the film has a kick-ass soundtrack. If you’re looking for a little feel-good Canadiana, you could do worse.
I Love You, Man - 6.5/10 - Who doesn’t love a bromantic comedy? An ordinary movie with pretty ordinary themes. The cast is watchable (Jason Segel and J.K. Simmons in particular), and there are plenty of amusing moments. Still, it’s nothing to write home about.
Twilight - 5/10 - The broodiest movie in Sombre Town. Man, those teenage vampires are moody bastards. After Kirsten Stewart, the cast is unilaterally wooden. I’d imagine that, much like the Harry Potter series, subsequent films will get better as the cast matures and the burden of exposition lightens. I watched this on the plane, so that may have negatively impacted my impressions (though I doubt it). I’m not a fan of Catherine Hardwicke’s work generally, so that doesn’t help.
Duplicity - 7.5/10 - I really liked Clive Owen and Julia Roberts in Closer, but I found their scenes together in this film rather lifeless. They lacked the sizzle of, say, Clooney and Lopez in Out of Sight or Pitt and Jolie in Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Perhaps it’s because they felt repetitive, and rarely advanced the plot. I did really dig the directorial work of Tony Gilroy, it felt stylized without being intrusive. In particular, the film’s opening scene (after the one the studio obviously required he add) is beautifully shot. The film’s plot is ridiculously byzantine, so don’t even try to follow it–just sit back and enjoy the good-if-not-spectacular ride.
Back in 2002, I saw the excellent spelling bee documentary Spellbound. It featured a structure that is now familiar to me: in the film’s first half, we meet the competitors. In the second half, we watch them compete. It’s effective narrative arc: make us about the characters, then we can watch them succeed and fail. For the dorky elite of the spelling bee world, it made for a pretty riveting film.
Yesterday I watched Word Play, a 2006 film that applies pretty much exactly the same model to the world of competitive crossword puzzles. Though it lacks the emotional thumb screws that competing kids offer (replacing them with crossword-loving celebrities like Jon Stewart, Bill Clinton and the Indigo Girls), the film is another great example of what I’ve come to call “the competition documentary”.
While in Winnipeg last week, I caught part of Ballet Girls on Bravo, yet another film that seems to fit this sub-genre:
Ballet Girls is a behind-the-scenes documentary series that follows nine girls on a quest to land the coveted role of Clara in the Royal Winnipeg Ballet’s Nutcracker. The girls come from across Canada - gap-toothed 10-year-olds and willowy teens with ballerina dreams dancing in their heads. In this “Canadian Idol” of the ballet world, ambitious young dancers compete to share the stage with professionals, taking the first pointed step in their own careers as dancers.
I’m sounding more disparaging than I mean to be–I think it’s an effective and entertaining approach. I wonder the origins of this genre are. Surely they predate Spellbound. Maybe they’re risen in popularity as a kind of legitimate alternative to the hapless dude + ridiculous challenge model of reality television. Any suggestions for other films in this sub-genre?
The legendary Leonard Cohen is, as you probably know, on tour. He comes to Vancouver on April 19. Today the National Film Board blog features a 45-minute documentary on Cohen from 1965. I haven’t watched much of it yet, but it begins with a charming, funny monologue and, a little later on, has some great insights into the secret joys of hotel rooms:
Early on in “Away We Go”, Maya Rudolph’s character asks her boyfriend, “are we fuck-ups?” Because Dave Eggers co-wrote the script, the answer is surely a resounding “yes”. In an earlier post mentioning Eggers’ first novel, I said “Eggers is a great stylist, but must all of his books feature such aimless losers?” In truth, I’ve only read two of his books, but that’s kind of how I felt about “Away We Go”. 
I’m not a Trekkie, nor a Trekker. I’m not even a Star Trek enthusiast. I’ve seen most of the movies and some of the original series. I inconsistently watched “Star Trek: The Next Generation” through my adolescence, but then theatre school proved more than enough distraction. That said, whether dystopian or utopian, I’m always willing to give a science-fiction movie a try (for example, I look forward to