The Research Abides

Our Center hosts a two month research program every summer for thirty or so undergraduates, and a lesser number of high school students and teachers. It's a surprising amount of work for those of us who volunteer as mentors, but is also a fair amount of fun, and always satisfying. The students come from all over the country, from colleges of all descriptions.

My mentat this summer is a student from our school who just finished her freshman year. She is intelligent, ambitious, overprivileged (drives a nicer car than I do), and reminds me of my favorite philosophy professor's observation that, "no one on Earth knows more than a college sophomore." She had a great time and tied for first in the poster competition, but that's not important right now.*

I do all of the grocery shopping. Image from here.

We built a rapport, since she exudes the insecurity inherent to being nineteen and I am generally awesome. During one of her daily drop-ins to my office she mentioned that I had acquired a nickname among the summer students. She said something about her mentor, and several of the students replied, "You mean Jeff Bridges?" She is too young and normal to know which of his roles had likely inspired the comparison, but I knew immediately. I guess there are some things we really don't live down.

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* And don't call me Shirley.

Movie Sunday: Worlds Fastest Indian

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This funky little kiwi treat is a biographical story about Burt Munro, a New Zealander who was eccentric fifty years ago, and today would probably have a diagnosis and a prescription for Zoloft. Munro bought an Indian motorcycle as a young man and spent the rest of his life obsessed with trying to make it go faster. Seemingly oblivious to the wild inappropriateness of an elderly man trying to drive 200 miles per hour -- in street clothes -- on a 30 year old motorcycle, he did all he could on the beach at home and then set off for the Bonneville salt flats.

Condensing and simplifying Munro's story for the movie makes it palatable for a broader audience, if a little predictable. Anthony Hopkins does a creditable job in the lead, but the true star of this DVD is a short documentary featuring the real Burt Munro. As talented as he is, I don't think Hopkins -- or anyone with "Sir" in front of their name -- can really communicate the simple, single-minded obsession with metal and speed that seems to make up about 95% of Munro's personality. If the smell of oily metal or driving too fast to believe you are still alive makes up some part of your past, this story will likely resonate with you.

Don't expect big plot twists or Oscar-winning performances, but if you have a weakness for two-wheeled speed or welding, you might want to give World's Fastest Indian a go.

Movie Sunday: 633 Squadron

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I know this one is not going to have what you would call broad appeal, but I'm writing it anyway.

My parents came of age during World War II. I don't think it's possible for us to understand the impact that it had on their generation and culture. "What did you do in the War?" was a common question even during my childhood, a full twenty years later. And WWII movies were still a booming business in 1964, when 633 Squadron was released.

The film is based on a 1956 novel of the same name, which draws from several real events and missions during WWII.  It holds the distinction of being the first aviation film shot in color and Panavision.

633 Squadron tells the story of a group of fighter-bomber pilots training for and executing a special, especially dangerous mission. The squadron flies the de Havilland Mosquito, one of the most amazing and beautiful airplanes of the era.*  The Mosquito was one of the fastest planes of any kind in the war, made possible by its twin Rolls Royce Merlin engines and the fact that it was made largely of wood.  Yes, wood. The light weight and high power made it particularly graceful in flight, and it was well-loved by its two man flight crews.

de Havilland Mosquito in flight. Picture from here

The plot and characters of 633 Squadron are somewhat typical of the time. Cliff Robertson does a credible job as the hard-bitten cynical wing commander, and Maria Perschy is delicious as "the woman" (every good war movie of the day seemed to have exactly one).  There is a bit of ironic tragedy, and the film is made late enough that a bit of the horror of war is beginning to seep through the glory and righteousness typical of earlier war films, but it's not exactly Apocalypse Now.**

The real star of this movie is the Mosquito. The film includes a great deal of footage of real Mosquitoes in flight over beautiful Scottish countryside, and the planes are mesmerizing to someone who built as many models as I did as a child. George Lucas credits the primary action sequence in this movie with inspiring the "trench scene" in Star Wars.

So if you like old war movies, or are a fan of planes of the era, you should check out 633 Squadron. It's currently streaming on Netflix.

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* The Supermarine Spitfire, Vought Corsair, Lockheed P-38 Lightning, and the North American P-51 Mustang round out my childhood top five. But the Mosquito was always my favorite.

** Also, you should watch Apocalypse Now, if somehow you have managed not to see it. Awesome movie.

Movie Sunday: Animal Kingdom

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Some of you know I have a weakness for Australian movies, and this is a good one. It's sort of Napoleon Dynamite meets The Town. Not Napoleon Dynamite because it's funny; because it's not funny at all. But our protagonist is a mostly awkward, mostly silent teenager who lives with his grandmother. And who we want to succeed, while everything we know about the world tells us that he will not.

Our story begins with our young hero greeting the paramedics. His mother has overdosed on heroin and left the story, as it were. He calls his grandmother, who he hasn't seen in years, and she brings him to live with her. At the same time we meet his four uncles, who are crooks. We know the grandmother is not like yours or mine when she kisses one of her boys square on the lips, for longer than anyone should feel comfortable kissing their mother. As is common with good Australian films, the story that follows is personal, engaging, and tight. There is very little wasted motion in this film.

There is a fair amount of violence, and not car chase and explosion kind of violence. This is unvarnished and in person, without swelling background music or pithy quips. If you're a fan of The Wire, you know the sort of thing I mean. If you don't squirm in your seat at least once during this movie, I might worry about you.

While the story is very good, the characters are better, both in the way they were envisioned and their  portrayals by the cast. Some of the interactions are mesmerizing. I wasn't surprised to learn that the story was apparently inspired by a real Australian crime family.

This is the first film from writer and director David Michôd, though I suspect we will hear more from him. It has been critically acclaimed as they say, from awards at Sundance to an Oscar nomination for Jacki Weaver for her portrayal of the grandmother. She probably should have won.

This is not exactly what I would call a date movie, but if you're in the mood for a good drama, and you don't mind losing a few characters along the way, give Animal Kingdom a try.

Movie Sunday: Making your own

So I haven't had a lot of time for movie-watching lately. I taught a five day stop-motion animation camp for high school students last week, and most of the previous month was spent getting ready. For instance, I had to learn the first thing about stop motion animation.

We had fun, and the kids even learned a little. A couple of them really got into it, and the rest at least participated to some degree. Here are their final projects. Enjoy.

Group 1 consisted of three hyper-motivated boys who spent just about every minute of the camp working on this epic saga. I think they also learned the meaning of "scope creep."

Group 2 eventually* consisted of two boys with -- let's call it different work styles. Their spare but action-packed prison film was the only one that used all custom-built characters and sets.

Group 3 was the largest, with the oldest kids and (by the end) all four female members of the class. They gave everyone nicknames, and generally kept the camp from turning into a complete nerdfest. Their musical masterpiece pretty much speaks for itself.

I made a few little pieces myself, as well as sculpting a puppet head. Perhaps one day I will get a chance to post them. On the other hand, the camp reminded me of how long these things take, and how much time kids seem to be able to make for themselves. 

In addition to camp preparations, we've been busy watching BBC comedies. We watched all 28 episodes of Coupling over the long 4th of July weekend. It's sort of like Friends, but with more sex. We also watched Still Bill the other day, an excellent documentary on Bill Withers. If you like his music, or you like the idea of a regular person making it big and keeping their soul, I highly recommend it. I've been singing "A'int no Sunshine" under my breath for almost a week now.

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* The group originally included a girl, but the boys learned the hard lesson that if you ignore women long enough they will go away.

Movie Sunday: Billy Jack

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When I put Billy Jack in my Netflix queue, I expected to enjoy an hour and a half ridiculing everything about it. For the most part, that's what I got. The costumes, dialog and plot are cheesy, the acting is mostly horrific, even by the standards of the day, and the sound quality is so bad that entire scenes are indecipherable. Most of the characters are so flat they could easily be replaced with cardboard cutouts. What surprised me was that the heart of the film, the thing that made it such a big deal during my early teenage years, more or less survived the forty years since the film's release.

Billy Jack is a time capsule from the 1960's, told without Woodstock or Apollo. It is a sober reminder of the open hostilities that once existed within our culture, with racism fueling many of the individual conflicts. I was transported back to a time when I often felt physically at risk because of the length of my hair, and knew there were places I could not go with some of my friends. I can't help thinking that we may be closer to that sort of widespread violent confrontation today than we have been at almost any time since. Except most of us no longer have the physical courage to get involved.

Billy Jack, played by Tom Laughlin, is a half-breed karate expert war hero pacifist shaman trainee who protects wild mustangs and a school full of hippies on an Indian reservation. Laughlin also directed and co-wrote the movie. Laughlin's real-life wife Delores Taylor plays the director of the school, defending her misfit and cast-off students against the local townspeople. The local townspeople are portrayed as a surprisingly diverse group, with opinions ranging from sympathetic to openly stabby and rapey.

The theme of pacifism and non-violence that supposedly makes up one side of the argument seems ridiculously naive today, and the idea that anyone could even believe it could work gave me a little twinge of nostalgia for the innocence of youth. Much of the critical pasting the film got in its time was because it's theme of non-violence was embedded in what was essentially a kung fu movie, before there were kung fu movies. All the lines I remember people reciting were about kicking dudes in the head, and trying (unsuccessfully) not to go berserk.

There were some bright spots. Taylor was nominated for a Golden Globe for her performance, and legend has it that Marlon Brando stood up and stopped a pre-release screening to tell the audience that her performance in one scene had set the bar for emotional realism and depth. It's hard to believe today, but watch a few movies from the time and it gets easier. And even as I laughed at the hair and the clothes and the characters, I found myself caring just a little about what happened to them, which I really didn't expect.

Oh, and Howard Hesseman has a mid-sized role in the film. So that was fun. It only took about five minutes of "who is that guy?" before I figured out it was my old friend Johnny Fever from WKRP.

Even if you don't see the movie, I think you owe it to yourself to check out the official Billy Jack website. I was afraid to click on anything, but it's definitely entertaining. Do it, or I'm going to take this right foot and put it upside your head, and there is not a thing you will be able to do about it.

Movie Sunday: Get Low

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What do you mean where have I been? We'll get to that later. It's movie time. Get Low is a strange story, and I'm still not sure whether I like the way the plot progresses. I won't say much more about that, because I think it's either sloppy or really clever, and if it's clever I don't want to ruin it for you.

Anyway, with the acting in this joint it doesn't really matter. I could watch these people for hours. I don't know how Robert Duvall can make a movie anymore without winning an Academy Award. He is simply brilliant in this role, bringing layer after layer of complexity to a character that seems at first to be a simple archetype we all know. And Sissy Spacek keeps up. The scenes of the two of them together are marvelous, and often painful to watch. You can see individual facial muscles twitch or relax as they react to each other and their own internal dialogues. It's the kind of control that surely can't be voluntary, but is undoubtedly purposeful.

Lucas Black (the kid from Sling Blade and American Gothic) may not be the most versatile actor on the planet, but when he finds a character that matches his sensibility, he fills it up. He plays the young idealist Buddy Robinson perfectly, and the intensity of his goodness even penetrates the lifetime of bitterness that Duval's character has steeped himself in. As Duval says at one point in the film, "For every one like me, there's one like you, son. I about forgot that."

Bill Murray rounds out the core cast, in a role that seems made for him. He has become an accomplished dramatic actor, even though I still have trouble believing it sometimes. I'm sure younger people who didn't have to suffer through his years on Saturday Night Live, and didn't see Stripes* multiple times, don't have this problem.

Get Low feels a lot like some of Clint Eastwood's films, Unforgiven and Gran Torino coming specfically to mind. It also reminds me a little of Paper Moon, though I couldn't tell you why. I don't know if we are seeing more of these life retrospective type films because audiences and fimmakers are growing older, or if I'm just noticing them more because I'm not as young as I used to be. It's subject matter that I think was once primarily the domain of playwrights. In fact, this film could easily be done as a play. It reminds me a little of an Edward Albee play I did a scene from many years ago, though the title escapes me at the moment.

If you are looking for car chases and stuff blowing up, this is probably not the right film for you. I noticed several of the IMDB comments were from idiots people who watched it based on good reviews, and found it boring or not funny. One guy complained that the photography was "too pretty for the story." I will agree that it was not particularly funny, but since it's a drama that didn't really bother me.  But if you are in the mood to watch some great acting, I definitely recommend Get Low.

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* I haven't been able to look at a spatula the same since that movie.

Movie Sunday Back Next Week

Sorry, but we've been too tied up with home improvement projects this week to watch movies. Though we did see The King's Speech last night. It was good, even though I couldn't stop looking at Geoffrey Rush's nose. And I think living with Tim Burton is making Helena Bonham Carter even more strange than she was before, in a good way. It's probably doing wonders for him, too.

Okay, so we'll make this week's movie The King's Speech. See it if you haven't. I think it may have won some sort of award.

This will all be worth it when the painting is done.

Movie Sunday: Restrepo

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I don't usually write about documentaries, and Restrepo may seem like an odd choice for Easter Sunday. But I'm sure you heard that Tim Hetherington, one of the two directors of this film, was killed in Libya this week. And as Biscuit said, when the soldiers helicopter into Afghanistan, you feel like you've stepped into the Bible.

Restrepo is the story of one Army platoon's fifteen month deployment in the Korengal Valley in Afghanistan. The movie and the remote outpost where most of it occurs are named after Juan "Doc" Restrepo, a popular medic killed shortly after the platoon's arrival. It's a different kind of war movie. There are firefights, but these mostly consist of American teenagers blasting away at distant unseen enemies.

For me, this is a story about the futility of war in general, and this war in particular. We see a group of young men endure a year in the most remote, foreign, and dangerous place imaginable. We see them wander through these villages, not speaking the language, unaware of the culture, trying to learn from inevitable mistakes that end up costing lives. The most disturbing thing personally was watching how the individuals change over their time at the end of the world, losing bits of innocence and humanity day by day.

Having said all of that, it's not really a depressing film. The scenery is beautiful, and we almost immediately start rooting for these boys, not necessarily for victory, but that they will survive all of this without losing too much. And I think if you live in this country and pay taxes, you should probably see it.

Restrepo is a beautiful and heartbreaking film, and like Easter, seems to be at least partly about the endurance of hope in the face of hostility and fear. We have been deprived of someone special by the loss of one of its makers.

Movie Sunday: Mystery Science Theater 3000

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I know what you're thinking.  "MST3K is not a movie, it's a TV show," you say.*

"Aha!" I respond. "There was a movie! It was released between seasons six and seven." And, I don't even remember what it was about. Okay, it was This Island Earth, but I take your point. I doubt anyone saw the movie that didn't watch the show.

But I don't care. I'm a MSTie still, a dozen years after the show's run has ended. And I haven't watched any movies this week that are worth writing about. Take The Social Network, for instance. I'm not sure why everyone thought this was such a great movie. It was like critics thought if they were effusive enough, Zuckerberg might drop a billion on them. I mean it was fine, but I didn't find anything particularly outstanding about it. Maybe it's because I spend every day with computer geniuses, but I think it's more likely that it's just an average movie.

I got a new office at work a couple of weeks ago, with walls and a desk and a door and a bookshelf all of my own. I haven't had an office with walls and a desk, etc., in about four years, so this is kind of a big deal for me. I started bringing in a book a day, and the occasional piece of personabilia to make the place feel more like me.

One of the first things I brought in was a Mystery Science Theater coffee mug. It doesn't have any text -- it's emblazoned with a scene from the show featuring Joel and the bots. I put whiteboard markers in it and stuck it on my round conversation table, where it acts as a sort of litmus test of visitors. Those who know what it is are in the club. Those who -- like our purchasing agent -- pick it up and look quizzical, are not.**

If you're not a fan of MST3K, then you've undoubtedly stopped reading by now. If you are, go back and watch a couple of old episodes.  It's still a really enjoyable experience, and many of them will stream from Netflix. Some of my favorite episodes are The Crawling Hand, Prince of Space, and Time Chasers. And you should definitely save Space Mutiny. It features the fieriest golf cart crash ever, as well as a lack of continuity that is astounding.  Maybe you could even watch the movie.

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* You know who you are. And so do I.

** He never had a chance. He's twenty-three and a purchasing agent. And he wears a goatee with no mustache, so he might be an Amish kid on rumspringa.

Movie Sunday: The Commitments

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When I was a kid, pretty much all we had to listen to was AM radio.* My hometown of Little Rock had exactly two stations that didn't play country or what I've come to think of as Vegas music. One was KAAY, one of the nation's 50,000 watt monsters that covered a good portion of the nation. They were strictly Top 40 in the daytime, and at night turned more subversive.**

The other was KOKY 1350, the self-described "black spot on your dial."  This is where I learned to love rhythm and blues, soul, and a little later, funk.  The Beatles, Grand Funk, Steppenwolf, and Three Dog Night I heard on one hand was no more important to me than the Marvin Gaye, Supremes, Temptations, Four Tops and War that played higher up on the dial.

This is one reason I really liked The Commitments. I also like just about anything Irish. Oh, and it's a good movie. The Commitments is the 1991 story of a group of working class Dubliners who form a band. It's a glimpse into the depressed Ireland of the 80's and early 90's, before the "Irish miracle" that led to the current "Irish bailout." The characters are engaging and rich, the plot is tight without seeming spare, and the music is great.

The film was directed by Alan Parker (Midnight Express, Fame, Mississippi Burning), and despite a largely untrained cast, was voted the Best Irish Film of All Time in a 2005 poll.  So if you like old soul music, and you've been missing pink lipstick and spiral perms, you should definitely check out The Commitments.  It's magically delicious.

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* Shut up.

** Someone from the midwest or deep south will still occasionally talk to me about listening to Beaker Street with Clyde Clifford.

Movie Sunday: Uncertainty

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I didn't particularly like this movie. It seemed like a good idea -- a film about a couple who need to make a decision, and we see the consequences of each potential choice. But the decision we examine is not the decision that is really on their mind. Confused yet? Yeah, me too. And if a movie is going to leave me confused for as long as this one, it had better have a payoff at the end. And there really wasn't one.

It wasn't a total loss. There is some decent suspense, and the characters are generally interesting and engaging.  Plus, it's an attractive film to watch, especially for an indy. The New York Times guy really liked it. I have to wonder what size muffin basket he got for that review. 

I respect someone who can make a magic trick of a film. I thought Sixth Sense was brilliant the first time I saw it. An I love a good allegory. In this case, the idea of examining the significance of decisions big and small has potential, but I think they missed by more than a little. 

Move Sunday: Winter's Bone

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I have to admit that the people and places in this movie are more familiar to me than is really comfortable. I had not-distant-enough relatives in Forsyth, Missouri, where the film was made, and a significant fraction of my extended family are scattered around the surrounding area. And there was a lot I recognized, in type if not in particular.

Winter's Bone is the story of a young woman (played by Jennifer Lawrence) whose meth-cooking father has put up their homestead for his bond. When it looks like he may not show up for his court date, she has to go find him, all the while caring for her two younger siblings and crazy mother.

There are several things I like about this movie. For one thing, it's refreshing to see a contemporary story populated entirely by people for whom neither the S&P 500 nor E! television have the least relevance. The dead simplicity of these characters and their lives is something that's worth noting, especially when we consider how much of our population might be represented by the characters in this film. And the film at least attempts to portray this small world without portraying the characters as stupid or unimportant.

Winter's Bone also features an interesting cast of characters, despite the cultural homogeneity of the people in the film. And it manages to stay surprising, in spite of a straightforward plot. Since it's an independent film, the local people and actual locations add to the authenticity.  The production values were quite good, especially for an independent film. The DVD edition includes an extensive "making of" segment that illustrates some of the challenges they faced.

The film does have a little too much of the Walking Tall style hillbilly mafia to ring 100% true for me. But just a touch. And some of the dialogue is a little over the top. But overall, it's a well-told and personal story, and a very engaging drama. I wouldn't exactly call it the feel-good movie of the year, but it's definitely a drama worth watching.

Movie Sunday: The Station Agent

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By now you've probably realized that I have a soft spot for quiet little movies, and they don't get much smaller and quieter than Thomas McCarthy's The Station Agent. A small story, told in a small place with a small cast, it reminds me of a hand-painted postcard. I think McCarthy is a much better filmmaker than actor, having also directed The Visitor, and directed the just released Win Win, which I really look forward to seeing.

The Station Agent provided a breakout role for Peter Dinklage playing Finbar McBride, a solitary hobby store employee who loses his job and simultaneously inherits a tiny abandoned train station in rural New Jersey.  Though looking forward to living in isolation, McBride is beset -- or befriended, depending on your point of view -- by the local denizens. The ensemble includes Bobby Cannavale, Patricia Clarkson, Michelle Williams, Raven Goodwin, Joe Lo Truglio, John Slattery, Richard Kind, and Paul Benjamin.

This film is both comedy and drama, with a heart that is tender and sad. Like The Visitor -- and I suspect Win Win -- The Station Agent explores the path from isolation to community, and the hazards inherent in the journey. It's a wonderful little film. Watch it. You'll like it.

Movie Sunday: Grey Gardens

 

Images from here. And here.

Like many young people, I experimented with thespianism in high school and college. I wasn't really very good, but it left me with an appreciation for the difficulty of professional acting. And I've always liked crazy people. So this pair of movies was right up my alley.

That's right, there are two movies called Grey Gardens, and if you accept this mission you need to watch them both.*  Both are about Edith "Big Edie" Ewing Bouvier Beale and her daughter Edith "Little Edie" Bouvier Beale, the aunt and first cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis. The Edies lived like hermits in a rambling mansion in East Hampton, Long Island, and got crazier by the day as the house fell down around them. They had a lot of cats, and raccoons that they may or may not have thought were cats.

The original film is a documentary made in 1975. Some press in the early seventies had caused enough  family embarrassment that Jackie O and her sister dumped enough money into the place so that it would meet code. It also got the Maysles brothers interested enough to come follow them around the house with cameras. But even having a film crew there apparently didn't convince the Edies to pick up after themselves or take out the garbage.

HBO made the second Grey Gardens two years ago, with Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore cast as the Edies. Many of the shots in the film mirror scenes from the documentary, but the story covers much of the two women's lives.

The acting is what fascinated me about the HBO version. Actors almost always pull traits or behaviors from real people when they are building characters. But building a character who is a real person, especially one who has appeared on film, must be a special challenge. Both women do an excellent job. They are as good as Brian Keith's Teddy Roosevelt in The Wind and the Lion, which is high praise coming from me. I have to give a slight edge to Jessica Lange. Critics really loved Drew Barrymore's performance, and it was certainly very good, but I didn't think she was quite able to capture the East Coast intensity of the real little Edie. It's not her fault. She's from California.

So if you like old crazy women, this is the pair of films for you. If not, just watch The Fifth Element again. You really can't see that too many times.

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* Actually, there are a number of plays and books as well, but let's not go overboard.

Movie Sunday: Secondhand Lions

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So my movie selections may have been a little Duvall-heavy lately, but that is because he is currently my favorite actor. And Secondhand Lions is one of the most enjoyable movies I have seen in a long time. It's almost a perfect story. And by "perfect story," I mean the story is ridiculous and awful. Or could be awful, if it weren't so well executed. It's a coming of age story built of cliches and decorated with ridiculous boyish fantasies. It could easily have devolved into a National Lampoon's Vacation movie.

But using the magic of talent and vision, the people who made Secondhand Lions instead perform magic. It was written and well directed Tim McCanlies, without resorting to film school tricks, which is apparently quite tempting for new(ish) directors. But McCanlies has been around movies for a long time as a writer, and was apparently paying attention.

The acting was just superb. Duvall should be in the Smithsonian or something, and Haley Joe Osment shows depth well beyond his years. I really look forward to seeing him grow up. Michael Caine is, well he's Michael Caine. And the chemistry between these three is what really makes the movie. If you're not a little verklempt by the end of the film, you probably weren't paying attention.

So if you are a person who has a hard time with unrealistic stories, and all of your favorite shows are CBS crime dramas, you might want to skip this one. On the other hand, if you love good acting, and you can put up with tall tales and larger than life characters, Secondhand Lions is one you will want to see.

Movie Sunday: Keeping Mum

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When I was young, there was a large multipurpose room in the basement of our church, where most of the larger scale, non-worship activities happened. With a kitchen at one end and a stage at the other, it was a good place for receptions (at least the tee-totalling kind), banquets, large meetings, and Halloween carnivals. It was also where the church thespians performed their annual play.

Being a church, the plays tended toward the mainstream. But it was a Methodist church during the Vietnam era, and they were not performing the religious dramas that are common these days. For instance, one of the first performances I remember was Arsenic and Old Lace. I think my father played one of the victims.

I love this play, and I'm sure it helped inspire my love of theater in general, and of the black comedy in particular. If you haven't seen it, there is a very good 1959 film adaptation starring Cary Grant. I find the innocence of the characters in the traditional black comedies makes for higher comedy than the moral ambiguity that became fashionable later (think Grosse Point Blank).

Which brings us to Keeping Mum. It's a wonderful little farcical black comedy in the traditional sense. And by little, I mean it is modest in what it attempts to accomplish, and partially because of its modesty, it accomplishes more. It's a delightful way to spend an hour and three-quarters, especially if you're in the mood for light, irreverent entertainment.

The cast is first-rate, mostly familiar but cast somewhat against type. Rowan Atkinson plays the vicar of the village of Little Wallop, and the foil for three generations of women, played by Maggie Smith, Kristen Scott Thomas, and Tamsin Egerton. I'm not really going to say much about the plot, because it unfolds so nicely in the film. Keeping Mum also features Patrick Swayze, playing the role of the archetypal sleazy golf pro almost as a self-parody. Of course, maybe that's the only way he knew how to act.*

Maybe these types of stories are not as edgy as perhaps they once were, given the number of stories -- both fiction and fact -- of people who kill without remorse or regard. But I still find the interplay of wide eyes and cold blood can tickle a spot that few other forms of comedic entertainment can reach. So if you like yours old-fashioned and well crafted, you may want to give Keeping Mum a go.

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* Too soon? One of my old girlfriends was crazy about Swayze, and would not be amused.

Movie Sunday: Everybody's Fine

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So we're watching Mammoth last night, which is the longest, best produced movie in which nothing at all happens that I can ever remember seeing, when the sixteen year old Thai prostitute looks at Leo and says, "You're wearing two watches." Now I'm not sure if I can keep wearing two watches.

Anyway, unlike Mammoth, if you didn't get enough family-related guilt over the holidays, Everybody's Fine is a must see. Actually, you should probably see it anyway. Because it's excellent. Robert De Niro will make you want to cry within about five minutes of the movie starting, but in a good way. Not like the way Mammoth made me want to cry. In fact, even though not that much happens in this film either, we are so emotionally engaged from the beginning that it's hard to look away.

De Niro plays a recent widower in poor health whose children are supposed to come from all around the country for the weekend. They all cancel at the last minute, so he decides to surprise each of them with a visit. Kate Beckinsale, Sam Rockwell, and Drew Barrymore play his children, and they are all very good. But De Niro is genius in this thing. His vulnerability will break your heart.

This is apparently a remake of a 1990 Italian film starring Marcello Mastroianni, who is probably my favorite Italian actor with a y chromosome. The storyline of the original seems both a little cleaner and more literary than the American version, which is not really surprising. For example, each of the children is named for an opera character, who they seem to resemble in some way. I would love to see the original film. Unfortunately, it apparently has not been released on DVD, and I haven't been to Italy lately.

At it's core, Everybody's Fine is about secrets and lies, but not "there's a treasure map on the Declaration of Independence" kind of secrets. The little, real life secrets that children keep from their parents, and vice versa, and how each one puts a little distance between us.

Speaking of which, if you like the falsehood-based family comedy, we really enjoyed City Island, with Andy Garcia and Julianna Margulies. Garcia plays a prison guard and aspiring actor who heads a family that seems incapable of telling each other the truth. It's a bit quirky, and a little more light-hearted than Everybody's Fine.

Wow, three for the price of one. Maybe I will skip next week altogether.

Movie Sunday: Fun with physics romantic comedy triple feature

Streaming Netflix and I have been down a bit of a rabbit-hole lately, and I've watched several quirky little movies that involve manipulation of time and space in one way or another. While none of them are exactly Sleepless in Seattle, I think we have to classify them as romantic comedies, since they revolve around relationships and nothing much explodes.

It all started with Cashback, a likable movie with the worst title since Twinkle, Twinkle, Killer Kane, and an even worse poster. As Biscuit said after resisting the first dozen times I suggested we watch, it looked like it was going to be a film for fifteen year old boys. Not that fifteen year old boys wouldn't like it. There is a decent amount of nudity, tastefully done of course. Also, a couple of fart jokes and a soccer game.

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Cashback is the story of a young art student who has just broken up with that girl who was the new Bionic Woman, though that has nothing to do with the story. He is so broken up that he stops sleeping, and ends up taking a job at an all-night grocery store to fill up his nighttime hours. Eventually, he figures out how to stop time. Wackiness and a touch of romance ensue. It's a bit of 500 Days of Summer meets Employee of the Month, but everyone in it is a much better actor than Jessica Simpson.

This is probably my favorite of the three films, both because of the quirky characters and because it's British, so you know it's good. Also, I believe I mentioned the nudity. I don't expect everyone to share my preference, but it did win some awards and stuff.

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Next came TiMER, which takes place in a world where science* has invented an implant that can determine exactly when you will meet your soulmate, assuming they are also wearing a timer. The story revolves around two sisters, one whose timer hasn't started, while the other's has quite a while to go. The  interest comes from pondering how you would live your life if you knew your perfect relationship was x years in the future. This show is very clever, fun to watch, and the cast is just about perfect. I have mixed feelings about the end, but all in all it's a good way to pass 99 minutes.

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The last of our trio is Happy Accidents, which of the three is probably the closest to a traditional romantic comedy. It stars Marisa Tomei as a girl who is so bad at relationships that she and her friends seem to have formed some sort of club for girls who only date losers. She meets a young fellow (Vincent D'Onofrio) from Dubuque who seems strange, even for an Iowan. As she learns more about him, his story becomes increasingly unbelievable, and the tension of whether or not we are going to believe him drives us forward through the story.  Like the other two, it's mostly light-hearted, and easy watching, though with some substance.

There were a few more in this odd little thread, but not really that notable. Except for Uncertainty, which I didn't care for. Biscuit liked it a little better, but it definitely was not on the level of these others. So the next time you're about to watch Pretty Woman again just because it's on TV, try streaming one of these instead. It will entertain you, and make you think.

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* This is romantic comedy science, so think of it more as magic.

Movie Sunday: My Six Loves

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Biscuit and I both have colds, brought home from our holiday travels. We are choosing to blame my niece from L.A., who was inconsiderate enough to travel 2000 miles with two kids under five and presents for twenty, just so she could spend the holidays feeling like crap with a lot of people she barely knows. As a bonus, she got to have a big fight with her mother (my sister-in-law), just because her mom brought an ill-behaved, child-biting yippy little dog into a small house full of little kids.

But that has very little to do with this week's movie. Or maybe it does, how would I know? I have a fever, and probably won't remember writing any of this later. Anyway, we got Biscuit's parents a Roku box and a Netflix subscription for Christmas, and even though it doesn't work that great with their small town, steam-powered broadband, it seems like it's going to be serviceable, and they seem to like it.

Biscuit's mom is what you might call traditional, meaning most of her favorite books and movies were made before 1968. So when we were looking for things to add to her instant queue, the second thing she settled on (after a John Wayne movie) was today's gem, My Six Loves. Released in 1963, it stars Debbie Reynolds as an overworked actress, with Cliff Robertson, David Jansen, and Eileen Heckart, the Joan Cusack of her day.

Reynolds plays a successful actress suffering from exhaustion,* who is banished to her Connecticut estate for rest by her manager/boyfriend Jansen. There she discovers six trailer-trash children living in her old greenhouse. The ragamuffins have run away from a neglectful aunt and uncle who apparently wandered off the set of The Beverly Hillbillies. Once the local minister (Robertson) persuades her to take care of the kids until something suitable can be arranged, the wackiness starts. Also, there is a song jammed into the middle of the film for no discernible reason. Perhaps it was a signal to the men of the day that they could step out for a quick smoke and a bathroom break.

Some people will see this movie as a nostalgic look at a simpler time. Released today, it would be viewed by most women under 50 as a misogynistic propaganda piece, possibly secretly financed by the Mormon Church. The story revolves around Reynolds' realization that she "may be an actress, but she's also a woman, and should start acting like one." Apparently, real women can only be fulfilled when they are in a morally unambiguous relationship with a righteous man and a passel of kids. Heckart plays Reynolds' friend, assistant, and external super-ego, whose main job seems to be telling everyone that Reynolds will eventually come to her senses.

I like watching movies like this, because it reminds me of how far we have come in what is really a very short time. And also why our parents and the Tea Party (admittedly largely overlapping sets) seem so crazy about some things. Attitudes usually change over several generations, and seeing mainstream entertainment so obviously out of touch with today's mainstream sentiments helps lend a sense of perspective.

I wouldn't waste a DVD choice on this, but if you feel like streaming as much as you can stand, I found it pretty entertaining. You will probably need drinks.

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* This was before the likes of Liza, Mariah, and Lindsay taught us that "actress suffering from exhaustion" is normally a synonym for "ho-bag on the Joe Cocker diet."** But it's implied.

** Bloody Mary's for breakfast and cocaine for lunch. Supper usually consists of jumping around onstage for a couple of hours, followed by a handful of M&M's.