'Alfie' is more universal than you may think

“Alfie” would seem like the least likely candidate for a 21st century update and certainly not one with the gloss of Hollywood. The original is usually found in the romance or romantic comedy section of video stores, but doesn’t really follow the conventions of either, although it does have elements of both.

In truth, both versions are less genre films than they are character studies of a man who realizes his different-girl-a-night lifestyle, may leave him rather sad and lonely. At times his story is harrowing, at moments amusing and occasionally even perceptive. It was a hit in 1966, but only did modestly well in 2004 because, like so many films, it was a victim of mis-marketing.

The new “Alfie,” like its predecessor, isn’t a romantic comedy, but naturally was sold as one. It doesn’t deliver on the expectations of the genre and those hoping for the comfort of a pretty boy and girl getting together will be let down. Those who appreciate a film that breaks from the norm will be pleasantly surprised by the new “Alfie,” which in its own way is a daring little film.

Alfie as personified by Michael Caine in 1966 was a limo driver living it up in swinging London. Every night was a different woman, all relatively lifeless and uninteresting, merely prey to fall under Alfie’s charms. The story is so deeply rooted in the sixties, how could this work in a modern, post-feminism, post-AIDS era?

The 2004 model of Alfie comes in the form of Jude Law, who is now a limo driver in New York, which almost excuses Alfie’s sexual exploits. At one point Alfie is referred to as Euro trash, and yet women always fall for his accent.

Director and co-writer Charles Shyer does the rare feat of creating a remake that isn’t a mere retread. Shyer’s direction blends a fun mix of sixties styles and modern techniques to create a feel that is unique and fresh.

On the level of content, the film is relevant and has much to say about modern love and life. It has more depth than you expect from a film about a man interested in shallow sexual encounters. The film manages to find unexpected truths and does so with a lot of honesty and heart.

As an audience we shouldn’t like Alfie. He is a sexist, insensitive, sexual predator, who loves them and leaves them once things start getting too close. In the original, he is a father that doesn’t do the right thing; the new version softens that detail away.

In both films we get a guided tour of Alfie’s life in the form of casual, candid to the camera monologues. Maybe because we are seeing it all from his perspective we can accept his more deplorable actions. Or maybe because he is in the form of Caine, and Law we are just as taken in by his charms as the women in each of the films.

By the nature of Alfie’s lifestyle, the female characters don’t have substantial screen time. The women in the new version come and go just as quickly as they did in the original. Even so, as played by the likes of Marisa Tomei, Nia Long, Sienna Miller and Susan Sarandon, they are stronger and a bit more independent than their predecessors. They are given enough time to be more than mere cookie cutters.

Tomei, sadly, is given the least to do as Alfie’s single-mom sort of girlfriend. She is sweet and thankful isn’t written to be a nag trying to rope Alfie into a relationship. She does the dumping because she knows Alfie is no good for her or her son. Tomei is convincing in what little screen time she has.

Long is Alfie’s best mate’s ex-girlfriend that he has a fling with, which results in a pregnancy. The original Alfie’s most heartbreaking scene was an illegal abortion that still packs a wallop today. The new film can’t go down that path and have the same controversial emotional impact, but even though this parallel plotline doesn’t have the same weight as the original, writers Elaine Pope and Shyer, find a new way to explore similar emotions that is believable and valid in this modern age.

Miller’s character, a train wreck of a woman with bipolar tendencies, is given a bit more time to develop her role. It would be easy for this character to come off as nothing more than a maniac stereotype, but Miller keeps the character from going completely over-the-top. There’s a real sense of sadness when she tries to make amends for her mood swings only to be dumped.

Sarandon (like Shelley Winters before her) plays the older woman with a taste for younger men, who gets under Alfie’s skin. They are kindred spirits. Sarandon is a female version of Alfie, but she has a thicker skin than Alfie and has been at the game longer. In both films Alfie let’s his guard down only to be hurt the exact way he hurt so many himself.

This is what ultimately makes Alfie more than just a letch and allows the audience to empathize with him. As both films progress, Alfie begins to regret his lifestyle, he wants to change, but can’t break his habits. It is this development that lets the character transcend his sixties roots and become a universal character.

Alfie develops into a tragic figure as he begins to realize how empty his life is. The original ends on a down note with Alfie accepting that he can’t change and will have a lonely, loveless existence.

It is so rare in modern filmmaking that a Hollywood film doesn’t go for the ending that bares its name, so the remake of “Alfie” is sort of remarkable that it retains the spirit of original’s ending.

Alfie doesn’t go through a 180 transform. He isn’t welcomed back with open arms by one of his many lovers. The new version dares to be ambiguous and leave its conclusion open ended, in fact the film takes the gamble of concluding with the sort of question that is usually a start point not an end note. For some viewers this may frustrate, but for those seeking something different it is oh so satisfying.

A pleasant, but unremarkable 'museum'

In trying to sell “A Night at the Museum,” ads for the DVD have dubbed the film “the biggest comedy adventure in history.” Despite a game all-star cast, that is hardly the case.

A movie starring Ben Stiller, Robin Williams, Owen Wilson, Steve Coogan (“24 Hour Party People”), Ricky Gervais (the UK’s “The Office”), Dick Van Dyke and Mickey Rooney could be a comedy smash, but instead it is only an amusing distraction for a lazy afternoon.

Movies with large comedy casts almost always disappoint because expectations are so high. Having a lot of comedy talent isn’t enough if the material isn’t sharp. “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” had practically every comic alive in 1963 and even that film wasn’t the greatest comedy adventure in history.

“Night at the Museum” is pitched at children and compared to a lot of what Hollywood tries to pass off as family entertainment, it is a vast improvement. Too often family fare panders to children and wallows in gross out humor. Movies for kids can and should be intelligent and clever.

Thankfully, “Night at the Museum” has moments of smart writing and even glimpses of wit, but unfortunately they are stuck in a plot that is formulaic and tiresome. Formula filmmaking can work if done well with a wink and knowing nod. Movies like “Elf” and “School of Rock” follow timeless templates, but do so in fun, fresh ways. “Night at the Museum” frequently allows its plot to get in the way of the comedy instead of nourishing it.

Stiller plays a deadbeat father who loves his son, but can’t seem to do anything right. He starts a new job as a night guard at New York’s Museum of Natural History only to find that the museum’s exhibits come alive at night. It goes without saying that through his new job Stiller will redeem himself and become a better person. He’ll also manage to get the girl, a pretty tour guide played by Carla Gugino (“Spy Kids”), in a tagged on romantic subplot.

Although the film’s inspired premise is never quite explored to its full potential, the film does have its fair share of funny moments. After a slow start it eventually finds its rhythm and ends brightly.

There are some great set pieces spread through out the lulls. A T-Rex skeleton that likes to play fetch with one of its rip bones is a reoccurring joke that stays funny. Wilson and Coogan as rival model miniatures, a cowboy and Roman respectively, are the highlight of the film and steal every scene they are in. Slapstick hijinks involving a troublesome monkey, cavemen and Atilla the Hun also earn a few grins and giggles.

Williams as Theodore Roosevelt isn't as funny as it sounds. Williams is naturally funny and therefore has moments that are amusing, even laugh-out-loud funny, but he’s hampered by a barely sketched subplot that has him in love with Sacajawea. Again, not as funny as it reads.

It is nice to see veterans Van Dyke and Rooney as Stiller’s night guard predecessors. They are clearly having a lot of fun and relishing the chance to let loose in a comedy again. Gervais as the museum manager plays a variation of his “Office” persona, but is largely wasted.

Stiller is fine, he can do this sort of performance in his sleep. This is basically a different shading of the characters he played in “There’s Something About Mary” and the “Meet the Parents” films. Stiller is a likable performer and he remains so here, but he has more range than this.

“Night at the Museum” isn’t a bad film. You’ll laugh, but the overall experience is underwhelming. It is like eating a fast food meal. You may leave feeling satisfied, but you know you could’ve gotten a better meal somewhere else.

'Live Free or Die' has first Claremont screening

Following the screening Monday night of "Live Free or Die," the film shot in Claremont in November 2004, co-writers/co-directors Gregg Kavet Andy Robin were asked when the sequel was coming. Robin jokingly replied Bruce Willis was working on one.

More than two years after Robin and Kavet came to Claremont to film their offbeat crime comedy, the film is getting its theatrical release across New England Friday. But first the filmmakers brought the film to the Claremont Cinema 6 for a private screening for those who helped out on the production.

"It feels very satisfying, we're very proud of it, so it is nice to be able to show it off to the people that helped us make it," Robin said in an interview before the screening.

Nick Koloski, who found all the locations for the film, was eager to see the reaction of Claremont residents.

"I enjoy the people around town getting to see the movie and hear their reaction and see what people think," Koloski said before the screening.

Robin and Kavet were also excited to see the audience response to the film from the locals.

"We are going to get a weird mix of laughs tonight," Robin said. "We're going to get laughs at scenery."

As Robin predicted, the film earned knowing laughs as audience members spotted familiar locations around town, but the story of a small-time scam artist earned laughs in its own right as well.

The film earned a round of applause as the credits rolled and loud cheers when Claremont, N.H. appeared on the screen with a list of thank yous to all the businesses that helped the production.

After the screening, Kavet, Robin and actor Paul Schneider fielded audience questions. One audience member asked how wide the film's release would actually get. Kavet and Robin stressed that it all depends on what happens this weekend.

"This first weekend is really key," Kavet said. "If you like the film tell your friends, if didn't like the film tell your enemies to go see the film."

"Live Free or Die," which won top awards at the South-by-Southwest Film Festival and Seattle International Film Festival, is a small film, but Kavet and Robin cited the success of "Napoleon Dynamite" and "Garden State," which got their starts in about 10 theaters.

"If we get a good turn out this weekend we can build from there," Robin said in an interview before the screening. "We've done well at festivals. We do super well with college kids, so if we get the critical mass it'll just keep rolling."

The film opens in Claremont, Portsmouth, Manchester, Lebanon, Boston and Providence on Friday and in Keene April 6. Where it goes from there is still unclear, but Kavet and Robin are hopeful.

"It we get to New York that would be pretty sweet," Kavet said.

'Seinfeld' writers go indie in New Hampshire

There is at least one thing to be learned from “Live Free or Die,” the film shot in Claremont in November 2004, and it may shock locals. Rutland, Vt. police vehicles are used to investigate New Hampshire crime.

Yes, clear as crystal, in the second shot of the movie is a New Hampshire officer operating a Rutland police car. It is a minor detail perhaps, but one that could amuse Granite State residents.

“It became an unfortunate theme choice,” co-writer/co-director Gregg Kavet said of the car seen throughout “Live Free or Die,” which was originally going to be shot in Rutland before Kavet and co-writer/co-director Andy Robin discovered Claremont. “It was really a fictional New Hampshire town we were trying to do.”

Locals will get to see Claremont on the big screen when “Live Free or Die” opens at the Claremont Cinema 6 March 30. The film will also be playing in other cities throughout New Hampshire including Lebanon, Manchester, Portsmouth and Keene as well as in Boston and Providence.

Kavet and Robin, two of the writers of “Seinfeld,” originally developed “Live Free or Die,” which won top awards at the 2006 South By Southwest Film Festival and the 2006 Seattle International Film Festival, as a sitcom.

“We were working on “Seinfeld” and we came off feeling that these revolutionary comedies like “Seinfeld” got on the air all the time,” Kavet said.

CBS executives told the writing team that their script for the pilot episode was funny, but that it would never get on TV because as Kavet put it, “it was too far out of the realm of what a sitcom is.”

After working on other projects, Kavet and Robin found themselves going back to the material that would become “Live Free or Die,” a film focused on the exploits of a wannabe tough guy (Aaron Stanford, Pyro in the “X-Men” movies).

“With this project we just tried to do something different, something that we didn’t have to pitch to a network and something that we could finance independently,” Kavet said.

Like most independent films, “Live Free or Die” has a tone and style that is more laid back than the average Hollywood movie. Kavet and Robin were working within a well-worn genre and crime movies, even comedic ones, come with audience expectations.

Viewers have been feeding on “CSI,” “Law and Order” and Quentin Tarantino movies for years now. We want our crime fast, hip, detailed and with a dark sense of humor. However, Kavet and Robin’s approach is closer in spirit to Wes Anderson’s “Bottle Rocket,” which Kavet cites as an influence. They have crafted a crime comedy that is quiet, low key and surprisingly melancholy.

“We kind of wanted to make a movie we wanted to see,” Robin said. “There are a lot of comedies out now that just scream comedy at you and part of that is Hollywood has this formula that works pretty well where they spend a shit load of money marketing something that is really easy to grab on to and that they can describe in 10 seconds in a TV commercial.”

The duo wanted to make a film that was more realistic than the typical Hollywood fare. Their main source of inspiration in doing this was the Coen Brother’s “Fargo.”

“I think the original pilot was written as if the two guys from “Fargo” (Steve Buscemi and Peter Stormare) were hanging out,” Robin said.

That basic concept morphed into the odd pairing of Rugged (Stanford) and Lagrand (Paul Schneider, “Elizabethtown.”)

Rugged is a small-time scam artist, who talks a bigger game than the one he actually plays. He thinks he’s latched onto a good thing when he runs into Lagrand, an old friend who has inherited his father’s storage business. Lagrand is a simpleton and Rugged takes advantage of this by trying to convince Lagrand to hire him as security.

“We didn’t want our lead to be super likable,” Robin said. “That was something we liked about “Seinfeld,” that the characters weren’t especially likable, they weren’t doing admirable sorts of things. They were a pretty selfish bunch.”

If Rugged isn’t necessarily likable, it doesn’t mean you can’t empathize with him. Rugged is a nobody, who desperately wants to be someone, but when he feebly attempts to impress Lagrand with his gangster abilities all he manages to do is set off a Murphy’s Law chain of events. Soon a series of misunderstandings has the local police pinning serious crimes on Rugged and Lagrand.

“The character we enjoyed writing the most in “Seinfeld” was George, who was constantly getting dumped on,” Kavet said. “I think we have a natural affinity to characters who have a tough go at things. Our humor sort of lends itself to that sort of situation.”

The dynamic between Rugged and Lagrand is the heart of the film. Their relationship goes deeper than the typical buddy film. They are both hungry for acceptance and respect and can only find it from each other. There’s an underlining sadness to that, which adds weight to the film.

“It is really just a horrible coincidence that each one has found attention and admiration in the other. Rugged’s stuck with the idiot and the idiot’s stuck with Rugged,” Robin said.

At its core, the film is about the importance and meaning of the legends that surround our every day life. Rugged’s tough guy act is merely a façade to hide the fact that he knows he’s going nowhere and yet maybe if he believes enough in his own myth, he can convince others he is everything he claims to be.

“We’ve always liked the idea that if you look too deeply at anything that is cool it really falls apart,” Robin said. “What everyone clings onto is not real or is random or accidental or fake.”

The film does a good job of capturing the anxiety of feeling trapped in a small town. Kavet and Robin deserve credit for sidestepping the redneck stereotype that New England is often slapped with in films.

“Andy had lived in New Hampshire and I spent a ton of time there,” Kavet said. “We certainly used a lot of experiences from growing up in Massachusetts and Connecticut and translated them a little bit to New Hampshire.”

Coppola's latest lonely girl

Writer/director Sophia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette” was infamously booed at the Cannes Film Festival (this is the same festival that gave an eight-minute standing ovation to “Clerks 2”), but the film, in its own way, is something to cheer.

The blurb on the DVD describes the title character as history’s favorite villainess, but Coppola sees her as a tragic figure. The film fits nicely along side Coppola’s previous work “The Virgin Suicides” and “Lost in Translation,” films about lonely girls who feel trapped. Marie Antoinette may have led a pampered life, but the halls of Versailles were isolating ones.

Marie Antoinette (Kristen Dunst, “Spiderman”) was married off to Louis XVI (Jason Schwartzman (“Shopgirl,” “Rushmore”) at 15 as an attempt to build an alliance between France and Austria. At 19 when King Louis XV (Rip Torn, “Men in Black,” “Dodgeball”) died she became the Queen of France.

Much of the first part of the film focuses on Marie’s culture clash. Initially, she is taken aback by the lavish life, numerous servants and rules of court. This is best portrayed in an amusingly awkward scene in which Marie is left standing nude as she learns the long process of her dressing from Comtesse de Noailles (the excellent Judy Davis).

Versailles is portrayed like an aristocratic form of high school. Gossip about Marie’s inability to consummate her marriage is constantly on the lips of members of court, which include “Saturday Night Live” alum Molly Shannon and Shirley Henderson (Moaning Mertle in the “Harry Potter” series).

Marie gets no support from her mother Maria Teresa (Marianne Faithful), who blames Louis’ lack of interest solely on Marie and constantly pressures her to consummate the marriage or the union of France and Austria will crumble. That’s a lot of pressure for anyone, let alone a teenage girl in a foreign country. Dunst takes it all with a quiet dignity that makes the scene when she finally does breakdown all the more effective.

Dunst during these scenes does a nice job portraying the loneliness and naïveté of a girl living in unfamiliar surroundings with a man who is indifferent towards her. During these early scenes Dunst barely speaks and instead relies on silent stares, one of Coppola’s trademarks. There’s a wonderful shot in which Dunst stands alone on a balcony as the camera tracks back. It beautifully captures the isolation of Versailles.

Schwartzman’s Louis is a hilarious characterization. He plays him as completely aloof. Coppola crafts several amusing scenes at the dinner table and in the bed that Schwartzman plays to perfection. Louis’ only hobby is keys and locks. His reaction to a book he is reading about wooden locks is priceless.

The film shifts gears when Marie simply accepts her new life and embraces the overindulgence of her new existence. She parties long and hard and this is when we see the bubblier Dunst that we know and love (or hate as the case may be).

“Marie Antoinette” takes the “Amadeus” approach of using modern English instead of period dialogue or native tongue. For historical purists this may be unacceptable, but it is less controversial than the film’s soundtrack, which like “A Knight’s Tale” uses rock music throughout the film.

For some, the use of new wave and post-punk music will be completely intolerable, especially a montage of clothing and food set to Bow Wow Wow’s “I Want Candy.” Yet, once you accept it for what it is, it works well at capturing a certain mood and atmosphere.

The “I Want Candy” montage is something that wouldn’t feel out of place in a teen movie, but that is the point. Marie was a teen girl thrust into a position beyond her years. She did what anyone at her age would do: she partied. But the first half of the film does a good job of showing her as more than just the Paris Hilton of her time.

Most of the songs that appear in the film are from the eighties, a time known for excess. The pop songs on the soundtrack are paired with a sparse score and compliment each other nicely. Together the help give the film a unique feel.

The film looks great. Coppola shot on location in Versailles, which she captures in long, well-composed shots. The hair, make-up and Oscar-winning costumes are all excellent.

Those hoping for a detailed look at the time will be disappointed. The film rarely leaves Versailles and there is little sense of a timeline. The film centers mostly on Marie’s early years at Versailles, but does span Louis XVI’s entire rule.

Louis and Marie were cut off and living in their own world. Coppola’s approach is to leave the audience just as cut off from the historical context in which the film takes place. This may make the film seem frivolous and shallow, but the film’s intent is more about capturing a feeling than chronicling the tumultuous history of the time.

Most of film is light and funny, but since we all know what is coming there’s an underlining dread. The mood switches quickly as the film approaches its abrupt ending. Coppola chooses to leave the French Revolution off-camera. Instead of showing Louis and Marie gruesome demise Coppola comes up with a poetic final shot that is deeply affecting and poignant.

It's good to be the 'king'

If you have ever seen Forest Whitaker in an interview, than you knows how truly amazing his performance in “The Last King of Scotland” is. Whitaker in real life comes across as soft-spoken, shy and passive. As 1970s Ugandan dictator Idi Amin he is the exact opposite: magnetic, charismatic, boisterous and ultimately terrifying.

Whitaker’s central performance, which deserves all the praise and awards it has received, anchors and elevates a good, but flawed film.

The film’s approach is to tell the story from the perspective of Nicholas Garrigan (James McAvoy, “The Lion the Witch and Wardrobe”), a fictional Scottish physician, who through a chance encounter with Amin becomes his personal physician and most trusted advisor.

Nicholas is meant to be the audience’s point of entry into a world that we are unfamiliar with. He is taken in by Amin’s charm, dynamic personality and the luxurious life that he is thrust into. McAvoy has a likable screen presence and when things take a turn for the worst you are concerned for him. The film occasionally sags though when it becomes too focused on Nicholas. A love affair with one of Amin’s wives feels forced and formulaic.

Whitaker’s performance is so overwhelmingly powerful that it overshadows everyone around him, but McAvoy’s performance is strong and puts him on the map as an up-and-coming actor to watch.

Nicholas is an interesting character because it isn’t that he knows what is happening and chooses to ignore it, but rather he doesn’t allow himself to see it because he wants to believe Amin is everything he says he is. McAvoy makes Nicholas’ descent from naïve and jovial to fearful and increasingly desperate to escape believable. He holds his own against Whitaker, which is no easy feat given the size of Whitaker’s performance.

Saying Whitaker’s performance is large doesn’t mean it is over-the-top, at least no more than it needs to be. Whitaker is playing an over-the-top figure, but what makes the performance so extraordinary is that doesn’t become broad or campy. Buried within the booming performance is subtleties, a look or a gesture, that go deeper. Whitaker’s performance doesn’t necessarily make Amin a sympathetic figure or excuse his horrific actions, but does reveal a man consumed by delusions and paranoia.

The structure of seeing and being taken into Amin’s world from an outside perspective is fine, but there’s a certain amount of pandering. At times it feels like it was assumed audiences would only accept this story if seen through the eyes of an Anglo, but this is a flaw of the source material, the novel by Giles Foden, not the film.

Foden moved from England to Africa with his parents when he was five, so it makes sense that his fictionalized account of Amin would take the approach it does. Amin really did have a close white advisor, a former British soldier, who according to a Bold Type interview with Foden “became part of his (Amin’s) apparatus of repression.”

The fictional Nicholas does not directly become part of the mechanism of death and destruction under Amin, but by choosing not to see it, he allows it to happen. When he can no longer remain blind and he finally begins to see Amin’s murderous, darker side he is in far too deep.

Director Kevin McDonald’s (“Touching the Void”) previous work is documentary based, but the style he employs here isn’t that of the currently popular pseudo-documentary. This is solid narrative based filmmaking featuring some beautiful cinematography of Africa.

The film’s pace is slow, and while Nicholas is in his bubble, relatively light, but once his eyes are open the film becomes increasingly tense. The final third is a literal palm-sweater. I soaked through my jeans.

Those expecting a detailed account of this time period will be disappointed. This is not a history lesson, but certainly does prompt the desire to look further into this dark chapter of recent history. Most of the Amin’s horrors happen off camera. The glimpses that are shown, particularly a torture scene, are gruesome, hard to watch and leave a lasting impression.

The Academy finally grows up

I have a love/hate relationship with the Academy Awards. I usually wind up complaining and whining about which films get nominated and which ones don’t. I become outraged when deserving films lose to more popular, but lesser works. Nearly a decade later, I am still fuming about “Titanic’s” best picture win. It was never the king of my world.

And yet every year I watch diligently. But why? It is just the opinion of a group of people. There are numerous award shows that hardly raise an eyebrow, but because the Oscars are the biggest they hold a fascination.

It is just an opinion, but within the film industry and culturally that opinion has been made significant. What wins and is nominated can dictate the trends of Hollywood. It isn’t a guarantee, but an Oscar win can change a career, Just look at Jamie Foxx. He went from a grade B comedian, to an A-list actor practically overnight. Oh how quickly we forgot “Booty Call.”

Too often the Academy failed to notice the truly remarkable films in any given year. Spectacles like “Gladiator” and “Chicago” tended to be the easy wins. But the last couple years have brought a shift that is refreshing. The Academy has increasingly been nominating and awarding films that are important socially, culturally and globally.

Last year saw numerous nominations for films like “Good Night, and Good Luck,” “Crash” and “Munich.” They were films that had something to say about the world’s past, present and future. This year the trend continued with nominations for weighty films like “Babel,” “Last King of Scotland,” “Letters from Iwo Jima” and “Children of Men.”

There has also been a broader inclusion of smaller or independent films. This year saw “Little Miss Sunshine,” “Half Nelson” and “Little Children” scoring nominations in major categories. Perhaps this is a statement of where the best films are coming from now. The fact that this year’s Oscars were the most international ever, something that was repeated multiple times through out the evening, is a further reflection of this.

It is as if the Academy members suddenly became politically and globally aware. They usually left the political messages to be sent by the best documentary category (i.e. this year’s winner “An Inconvenient Truth”), not the big categories. That Melissa Etheridge’s theme song for “An Inconvenient Truth” beat out three songs from “Dreamgirls” felt as important of a statement as the film itself winning.

A Hollywood film, “The Departed”, was the evening’s big winner, but Hollywood doesn’t always churn out crap, sometimes substance creeps in, and in the hands of Martin Scorsese, “The Departed” isn’t the run-of-the-mill remake of a foreign film.

This was Scorsese’s year. There was no way he could be denied an Oscar for best direction again. “The Departed,” while not flawless, is an example of dynamic storytelling brought forth by a dream cast that doesn’t let down. It is the sort of film Hollywood should and could be making consistently if the lowest denominator still didn’t make a buck.

As for the ceremony itself, it is still a bloated affair, with too much needless filler. This year clocked in at just over three hours and 45 minutes. Padding included nice, but unnecessary clip montages of foreign films, films about writing and films about America.

Some of the filler was enjoyable. Will Ferrell, Jack Black and John C. Reilly sang a lively song about how comedians never get their due at the Oscars. Another highlight was the sound effects choir, which “sang” the effects for a series of film clips. Quite impressive.

Ellen Degeneres was a fine host, who at times seemed uncertain of herself, but in a way that was part of her charm. Then again, maybe that was all part of the act. Her best bits involved her venturing into the audience to chat with directors Clint Eastwood and Scorese.

She gave Scorsese a fake script for a movie called “Good mommas,” a cross between “Goodfellas” and “Big Momma’s House.” As for Eastwood she scored a photo with him for her myspace. The photographer: Steven Spielberg.

As far as winners go, the evening was rarely a shocker. As anticipated, Forest Whitaker, Helen Mirren and Jennifer Hudson all won. Alan Arkin, with his win for best supporting actor in “Little Miss Sunshine,” was one of the few surprise wins.

“Pan’s Labyrinth,” a favorite for best foreign language film, lost to Germany’s “The Lives of Others.” The Academy has a funny way of balancing things though and awarded “Pan’s Labyrinth” for its achievements in art direction, make up and cinematography.

Acceptance speeches were largely forgettable, although Hudson was genuinely surprised and honored and Whitaker spoke passionately about the power of acting to connect to people. Scorsese had the most memorable acceptance speech moment when he asked, “Could you double check the envelope?”

Overall, my love/hate relationship this year is leaning away from the hatred. Perhaps the Academy is aging in dog years because at 79 it seems to have finally outgrown those awkward teen years. Let’s just hope it doesn’t go wild when it hits 21.

Anti-Love Songs: Five Alternatives for Valentine's Day

In the tradition of Merry Subversive Christmas, my list of songs for the holiday season, I present you a new list: anti-love songs for Valentine’s Day. This isn’t about resentment over being single, rather it is merely providing a few alternatives to the bombastic ballads and acoustic declarations of love that are saturating the airwaves.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good love song as much as the next person, but sometimes enough is enough. Nothing pushes the stop button on a bile-inducing ballad like a good break-up song. So, here are five anti-love songs that I am currently digging on. Feel free to provide your own additions and remember to spread the love this Valentine’s Day.

“Satin in a Coffin”- Modest Mouse
Modest Mouse’s 2004 mainstream breakthrough, “Good News for People Who Love Bad News” spawned the feel good hit “Float On,” but that song was hardly a reflection of the album’s dark and moody vibe.

“Satin in a Coffin” is perhaps the album’s darkest moment with the creepy chorus: “Are you dead or you sleeping?/God I sure hope you are dead.” That’s enough to kill any romantic evening. Isaac Brock’s lead vocal is full of emotion and sells the bitter sentiment of the song completely. Musically, the song is a beautifully disjointed combination of banjo, guitar, standup bass and pump organ.

“Sexed Up”- Robbie Williams
Williams has sung more than his fair share of affecting ballads and “Sexed Up” follows the pattern of its predecessors in terms of production and sound. Over sweetly strummed guitar and pleasant piano Williams sings as if he is wooing, but listen closely, for this is all a disguise.

The chorus brilliantly subverts the formula of clichéd love songs with Williams belting out: “Why don’t we break up/There’s nothing left to say/I’ve got my eyes shut/Praying they won’t stray/And when I’m sexed up/That’s what makes the difference today/I hope you blow away.” The glossy packaging of the song makes its acidic moments sting all the more.

“Divorce Song”- Liz Phair
This is more a real representation of love and all of its imperfections, than an anti-love song. I include it here because Phair’s lyrics encapsulate that painful feeling of knowing you are in a dysfunctional relationship, but at the same time are unwilling to get out.

“And the license said/You had to stick around until I was dead/But if you’re tired of looking at my face I guess I already am/But you’ve never been a waste of my time/Its never been a drag so take a deep breath and count back from ten/And maybe you’ll be alright.” As a singer Phair probably wouldn’t get passed Simon Cowell, but her ache comes across in every word and that’s rare. Phair reminds us that it is possible to be angry, spiteful and frustrated and still be in love.

“Married With Children”- Oasis
Oasis’ Noel Gallagher tosses the word love around quite a bit in his songwriting. With songs like “Let There Be Love,” Who Feels Love?” and “She is Love” it feels as if he desperately looking for the next “All You Need is Love.”

Hidden away on Oasis’s first album “Definitely Maybe,” “Married With Children” is the exact opposite of all those songs with lyrics that are snide and pissy. “I hate the way that you are so sarcastic/And you’re not very bright/You think that everything you've done’s fantastic/Your music’s shite it keeps me up all night.” The song’s extra bite comes in a verse of realization that being with someone you may hate is better than being alone.

“Smile”- Lily Allen
The song’s narrative is simple enough with a guy crawling back after cheating on his girlfriend, but the song avoids the usual self-pitying. Musically, the song is upbeat and fun and masks the hurt of some of the song’s lyrics.

The sing-a-long chorus is satisfyingly cheeky and oddly empowering: “At first when I see you cry/yeah it makes me smile, yeah it makes me smile/At worst I feel bad for a while/but then I just smile/I go ahead and smile.” Catchy and danceable aren’t usually the words you associate with a break-up song, but its hard not to groove on Allen’s “Smile.”

Valentine's Day, movies and the singleton

Valentine’s Day is nearly upon us. A day of chocolates and flowers, gifts and dinners. A time to celebrate that most cherished emotion: love. It is a day for couples and there in lies the problem.

What is a single guy or gal, bloke or bird meant to do on this day of love? Certainly, there’s always sitting on a couch in a raggy pair of pajamas eating ice cream straight out of the carton with a rather large spoon while watching Meg Ryan, Katherine Hepburn, Hugh Grant, Cary Grant and all the rest fall in love. Yes, this is the depressing image that society has branded the singleton with.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. For those of us without significant others, we do not have to be stuck watching Rick tell Ilsa, “Here’s looking at you, kid” for the umpteenth time. Seeking cinematic escape doesn’t necessitate watching the typical tear inducing tried and true. We have options.

As loyal readers of this blog know, I have nothing against romantic comedies (for further reading see my article on chick flicks and my review of “The Holiday”), but on Valentine’s Day there’s a sting to these films that leads to too many unhelpful questions: Why can’t I have that kind of love? What is wrong with me? Why is my box of tissues empty?

Valentine’s Day is a holiday of love, but love doesn’t have to be purely romantic. There’s something magical about simply connecting with someone in a way you can’t explain, and yet still feel deeply.

To meet or know someone and share a moment where you feel united intellectually, emotionally or spiritually is an extraordinary thing. At its core, that’s what Valentine’s Day should be about. It is films that embrace that idea that should be sought out by the singleton on Valentine’s Day.

Richard Linklater’s double feature of “Before Sunrise” and “Before Sunset” hits the spot quite nicely. They are films that are romantic, but don’t follow the formulas of the typical fare that we are told we should be watching on Valentine’s Day.

In “Sunrise” an American man (Ethan Hawke) and French woman (Julie Delpy) meet on a train and based on an initial spark decide to spend a night wandering around Vienna before having to go back to their respective lives. In “Sunset” the two meet by chance in Paris nine years later and pick up where they left off.

Both films are essentially non-stop dialogue as they discuss love, life, and death in ways that are intelligent, witty and natural. There’s a rhythm and flow to the dialogue that feels authentic. These are sort of conversations you know you’ve had yourself, or that you wish you could have. The films get the little details right, the awkward pauses and uncertain gestures, and capture the essence of meeting someone and feeling an inexplicable bond.


Similarly, Sophia Coppola’s “Lost in Translation” depicts that same hard to explain connection with a stranger. Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson’s characters meet in a hotel bar in Japan and can sense that they are at the same emotional place, albeit from different stations in life. They are able to commiserate and find comfort through each other in surroundings that are unfamiliar.

It is a quiet, slow and largely plotless film, which, for some, makes it difficult to get into. As a society we are trained to have our films, TV and literature follow the reliable three-act structure, but “Lost in Translation” breaks from that and our expectation for the plot’s set up.

Murray and Johansson don’t fall in love, not in the traditional movie sense at least. They don’t have sex, and they don’t run off together. They simply share their time, knowing it is special, important and life altering.

Another worthy choice is Zach Braff’s “Garden State.” It is a bit of tearjerker, but like the above films it is about meeting and wanting to spend time with someone for reasons you don’t necessarily understand.

Braff’s character returns home for his mom’s funeral and for the first time in years is un-medicated. Through meeting Natalie Portman and reconnecting with a high school buddy (Peter Sarsgaard) he begins to come out of an emotional malaise.

For all its quirky charm “Garden State” has a message that is sincere. The film is a reminder of how important it is to let people into your life, even if it is sometimes painful. Although the main pairing is a romantic one, the message transcends that.

Cameron Crowe’s “Elizabethtown,” which was unjustly panned by most critics, takes the same premise as “Garden State.” Orlando Bloom returns home for his dad’s funeral and is changed by meeting Kristen Dunst. It is sort of convenient that these broken guys always seem to find these free spirited girls at the right time, but I suppose it is a male fantasy come true.

What allows these encounters to work though is that they don’t fall into male sex fantasy. There’s an honest exploration of the excitement of meeting someone new. What keeps both “Garden State” and “Elizabethtown” interesting is that these meeting occur during a grieving process. There’s a sense of hope coming out of pain and of a chance for renewal.

As a single guy living alone, these are the films I am drawn to as Valentine’s Day approaches. I watch them and look at my own life and I am happy to know that even if I don’t have a significant other, that I am significant to someone. I can think back on all the times I’ve shared with friends and family and feel loved.

Hollywood and the war on terror

The Los Angeles Times ran a column Monday by thriller author Andrew Klavan entitled Is Hollywood too timid for the war on terror? Klavan, whose novels “True Crime” and “Don’t Say a Word” were adapted for the big screen, believes that FBI agents are getting a raw deal cinematically and that we should be portraying their current great conflict: the war on terror.

“In the history of our time as told by the movies, the war on terror largely does not exist,” wrote Klavan. “Which is passing strange, you know. Because the war on terror is the history of our time. The outcome of our battle against the demographic, political and military upsurge of a hateful theology and its oppressive political vision will determine the fate of freedom in this century.”

Historically speaking films that come out during wartime are typically propaganda. This is what happened during World War II. It was easy to churn out films in support of World War II because it was a war that was being supported. But now, as was the case during the Vietnam War, the war is not a popular one. At the end of the day, Hollywood wants to make money and to make a movie glorifying the war on terror is a hard sell.

During the Vietnam War, the only Hollywood film that came out about the war during the conflict was 1968’s “The Green Berets,” directed by and starring John Wayne. The film reeks of propaganda and the message was clear: we have to stop the communists in Vietnam or they will spread to other countries. The film was doing nothing more than regurgitating the then current administration’s domino theory.

Certainly, the Vietnam War was the history of that time, so why wasn’t it being documented by Hollywood? Because there is a danger of being too close to the issue and of being taken in by misinformation. To do the subject matter of war justice, you need perspective and distance from the conflict.

The majority of the films to come out about Vietnam weren’t released until four years after the war end. In 1978 “The Deer Hunter,” “Apocalypse Now” and “Coming Home” were all released and took a hard look at the conflict in Vietnam. In the 1980s films like “Full Metal Jacket,” “Platoon” and “Born on the Fourth of July” would continue this study of the war.

The first film to come out about Desert Storm was 1999’s “Three Kings,” several years after that conflict ended. It took five year before we could properly address the 9/11 attacks on the big screen. Events as big and as tumultuous as those need to be given space to breathe.

The war on terror is the new cold war. Terrorism is the new communism. The words are at times interchangeable. We are fighting an idea, not a country or person. It doesn’t necessarily mean that the idea doesn’t provide a genuine threat, but it does mean that things are a little bit more complex than black and white, good and evil.

During the cold war numerous espionage and thriller films came out showing the battle against communism. Characters like James Bond thrived in this atmosphere and now that we have the new buzzword of terrorism, perhaps it is why Bond had a new relevancy in “Casino Royale.”

But watching such films in retrospect, it is clear they are not documents of history. They are interesting as a reflection of a state of mind, but hardly a mirror of reality.

For Klavan the reason Hollywood isn’t portraying the war on terror is simple:

“In order to honestly dramatize the simple truth about this existential struggle, you have to depict right-minded Americans — some of whom may be white and male and Christian — hunting down and killing dark-skinned villains of a false and wicked creed. That’s what's happening, on a good day anyway, so that’s what you’d have to show. Moviemakers are reluctant to do that because, even though it’s the truth, on screen it might appear bigoted and jingoistic.”

There is some truth to that statement, but it is an oversimplification as well. The danger of that portrayal isn’t of seeming bigoted, but of spreading bigotry and hatred of an entire group of people instead of extremists. There are too many complex issues at hand for a view that simplistic. For a film to do this struggle justice it would have to show its many facets.

“Syriana,” which Klavan dismissed as “comfort fantasy,” was an important film, despite its flaws, because it legitimately attempt to show the many sides of the issue. It even went as far as trying to understand the mind of a suicide bomber instead of immediately dismissing them as Klavan’s “dark-skinned villains of a false and wicked creed.”

The war on terror is making its way to the big screen, albeit indirectly. Films like “Children of Men” and “Babel” are very much reflecting the political and social unrest that the war on terror is creating throughout of the world. Maybe these are the films that are documenting our current history.

Perhaps “The Kingdom,” due out in April, is the film Klavan is waiting for. The film stars Jamie Foxx, Chris Cooper, Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman as a team of U.S. government agents sent to investigate the bombing of an American facility in the Middle East.

It looks like the sort of big action movie Hollywood loves, but it also seems to have a balanced, intelligent look at the current events in the Middle East. I’m hardly against films about the war on terror, as along as they don’t make it a simple good versus bad scenario and at least try to capture the bigger picture.

'Men' is hardly child's play

I was a mess by the end of “Children of Men.” Red, tear stained face. Blood shot eyes. Snotty nose. Short of breath. Drained.

To call it a tearjerker implies it is something it is not. The film is powerful, emotional, visceral filmmaking that becomes overwhelming. You’d be hard pressed not to have some sort of emotional reaction to the film.

“Children of Men” is science fiction deeply rooted in reality. It is a cautionary tale of weight and depth. It is a story of hope and sacrifice.

The year is 2027 and the world has gone to shit. In this world women have become infertile, but that sci-fi wrinkle aside this is a future that is not far from the present. The film is like a hypothesis of what may well happen if humanity and current events stay their present course. I’m not saying infertility, but rather social chaos.

The plot is simple. Ex-activist Theo (Clive Owen, “The Inside Man,” “Closer”) is contacted by his former partner in activism and love (Julianne Moore, “Far From Heaven,” “The Hours”) to aid in getting Kee (Claire-Hope Ashitey, “Shooting Dogs”), the first pregnant woman in 18 years, to a safe haven where her baby will be protected from public scrutiny and use as a political tool.

The film is set in an England that is not dissimilar to the one in “V for Vendetta.” While that film was highly stylized and Gothic in its atmosphere and tone, “Children of Men” feels more like a reflection of reality. It is possible to view “V for Vendetta’s” as just a fun, if subversive, action film, but when “Children of Men” explodes into violence in its final third, the immediacy and authenticity of the action make it difficult to disconnect.

Characters come and go rather quickly in Theo’s quest to get Kee to safety. We meet Theo’s wealthy cousin, (Danny Huston, “The Aviator”), an anything-for-the-cause activist (Chiwetel Ejiofor, “The Inside Man”), a military drone, a former mid-wife (Pam Ferris, “Matilda”) and a gypsy.

Of these characters, Ejiofor stands out as a man trying to do what he thinks he is right, even if it takes extreme measures. Ferris also leaves an impression as a woman who remembers a better time and sees a way back to it with Kee. Known for playing meanies, Ferris adds surprising warmth to her character.

With the exception of Ferris and Ejiofor, these supporting character aren’t very developed, but they don’t need to be. They are all key to the film, not just as plot points, but at creating the atmosphere of a future that is bleak and with little hope.

Michael Caine as Theo’s friend Jasper, an aging hippie who lives hidden way in the woods listening to classic rock and dealing pot, is the most vivid characterization of the supporting cast. A loose, longhaired Caine provides the film with light comic relief. He’s a bit loopy, but Caine gives the character an underlining poignancy.

Theo is a classic tragic hero. He has lost his faith in humanity and the world. He chooses a slow death, poisoning himself with alcohol and cigarettes. When he takes up the call to activism again, it is more out of a sense of loyalty and old feelings that have yet to fade away. Owen’s scenes with Moore capture the essence of something once shared.

Theo hides his pain behind his vices and seeming indifference to the world, but Owen allows his hurt to come to the surface. A scene in which Theo eavesdrops on Caine relating to Kee how Theo lost his faith resonates. Owen is an actor with a wonderfully expressive face that can say more than pages of dialogue ever could.

Ashitey’s Kee is a woman who is pregnant in a world that has taught her nothing about birth or how to raise a child. Kee is a caustic, sassy teen, which Ashitey plays well, but the performance is memorable for the fear and confusion she infuses into the role.

The journey to get Kee to her destination is Theo’s redemption and renewal of his faith. It is a timeless arc, that if handled poorly can come off as trite and insincere, but director Alfonso Cuarón brings the right balance to the material.

Cuarón, who has made films as varied as “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,” “The Little Princess” and “Y tu mamá también” is a filmmaker whose films are beautiful to look at and feature a sense of magic and awe. That holds true here, but there’s also grittiness present in “Children of Men.”

Cuarón builds emotional tension at a steady pace leading to a final half hour that grips in a way few movies do. He utilizes hand held shots in a rebellion sequence that are unsettlingly long and that place you very much in the action.

This is a device that has been used before, but rarely so effectively. Unlike some uses of hand held in battle scenes, there is fluidness to the camera movement. It is still fast, and a bit disorienting, as it should be, but never confusing.

As the film draws to its conclusion the tension can be overpowering. Cuarón has made it clear what is at stake. By first showing horror and despair and hinting at the way out, the films has a resolution that is affecting and full of a genuine sense of hope. It is an emotionally draining trip, but one worth taking.

'War' slipped under my radar

“Lord of War” opens with Nicolas Cage standing surrounded by bullets with a backdrop of a smoking village. He speaks directly into the camera with what appear to be tears in his eyes and tells us: “There are over 550 million firearms in world wide circulation. That is one firearm for every 12 people on the planet.” Cage then takes a puff from a cigarette and says the last thing you’d expect him to say: “The only question is how do we arm the other 11.”

The title sequence that follows shows the life of a bullet from production to firing. The journey’s conclusion makes a more powerful statement than some whole films. Suddenly you realize you’re watching a film that could and will take you to unexpected places.

“Lord of War” was a movie wanted to see it, but it slipped my mind. I think it slipped a lot of people’s minds. It is an important, relevant film that managed to fall through the cracks.

Upon its release in late 2005, “Lord of War” received mixed reviews. Some critics gave it high praise, others admired its ambitious, but dismissed as dull and un-involving. At the box office it never quite connected with audiences, bringing in about $24 million in the U.S. and $62 million worldwide. With its budget of $45 million it made its money, but certainly could’ve and should’ve performed better.

In terms of cinema, 2005 was a highly political year, with films such as “The Constant Gardner,” “Munich,” “Syriana” and “Good Night, and Good Luck” gobbling up attention and awards. It would seem “Lord of War,” a film in many respects just as good and as powerful as those films, got lost in the mix.

“Lord of War” was a victim of mis-marketing. The theatrical trailer for the film focused on explosions and gunfire to make the film appear to be a run-of-the-mill action movie. We are left with only hints at the more satirical aspects of the script.

The poor marketing only got worse as the film came to DVD. The clever theatrical poster, which featured a mosaic portrait of Cage made of bullets, was replaced with a rather ordinary cover that tried to force the film into a genre it didn't belong to. (See above photo).

The film’s Writer/director Andrew Niccol, whose other films as a writer and/or director include “Gattaca,” “The Truman Show” and “Simone” is a brilliant satirist and social commentator. Despite a moderately sized Hollywood budget, the film he has made is very un-Hollywood.

Niccol’s previous work has always been a shade darker than the average multiplex film, even if visually they appeared to be bright and sunny. He works within a genre, but subverts until it is unrecognizable. A film like “Gattaca” is science fiction, but it seems odd to place it next to “Independence Day” or “Alien.” The same holds true for the “Lord of War,” which has the gleaming surface of an action film, but the heart and mind of a biting satire and anti-war film.

Cage’s presence in the film was probably another factor that distanced some viewers. It is easy to forget that Cage is a talented actor since he often appears in dreck like the recent remake of “The Wicker Man.” Cage has been in his fair share of bad to mediocre action films, so you almost can’t blame audiences for believing that “Lord of War” would be more of the same.

Cage plays Yuri Orlov, an arms dealer who is very good at his job. He doesn’t pick sides. He sells to anyone and everyone. The film spans about 20 years, showing the rise of Yuri as he constantly dodges the pursuits of a diligent Interpol agent (a solid Hawke enriching a one-dimensional character).

Yuri starts out small with his brother Vitaly (Jared Leto, “Requiem for a Dream,” “Panic Room”) as his literal brother in arms. Yuri can turn a blind eye to the use of the weapons he sells with a simple, “it is not our fight,” but Vitaly doesn’t have the stomach for the work and succumbs to drugs to escape the pain.

That sounds cliché and perhaps it is, but Leto keeps it very human. The scripts has him doing all sorts of strung out antics, but Leto keeps it grounded by always letting the pain the drugs attempt to mask rise to the surface. He is the moral heart of the film.

As deplorable as Yuri’s actions are, Cage manages to create sympathy for him. You don’t support his actions and yet somehow you do like him. He’s a cog in the system. He is a man who knows what he does is wrong, but chooses to accept that if he is evil, that he is a necessary one. He knows that if he stops doing what he does, someone else would step into fill his place.

Cage gives a charismatic performance providing a voice over narration that guides us through the world of arms dealing. He delivers his lines with the perfect degree of caustic cynicism. The dialogue is often quite funny, but the film doesn’t make light of the issues it raises. The humor is always pointed and cutting, but never forgets the suffering that arms dealing inflicts.

The expectation of the trajectory of the film is an inevitable fall of Yuri. You expect Yuri to have a moral reawaking. Neither happens. The film is an unapologetically cynical with a message that is bleak and unhopeful. There is no sugarcoating. The film holds its line for its entire running time, which is rare and commendable, especially when it doesn’t yield a happy ending.

'Sunshine' shines brightly

On the surface “Little Miss Sunshine” seems like nothing special, but it is a film where mere plot description cannot do it justice. Recent DVD ads have made the film look like a madcap road movie and a parody of beauty contests, but while it features these elements, the film runs deeper.

In “Little Miss Sunshine” a family hits the road in a broken down VW bus to get their 7-year-old daughter, Olive (Abigail Breslin, “Signs”) to a beauty competition. Olive is a rather plain looking girl, but has been trained by her grandpa (Alan Arkin) with a special routine.

The film mines its humor from reality and each escalating problem, even as they become increasingly absurd, is accepted because of that sense of reality. Take the bus itself, which when the clutch is blown has to be pushed to get going, a gag that never loses its laugh and eventually becomes a point of triumphant. Other things happen to the bus that get big laughs that shouldn’t be spoiled.

Although the film is at times laugh out loud funny, particularly when you get to see the dance routine Grandpa has taught Olive, often the laughs have a sting. The movie creates family dynamics that feel true, sometimes painfully so. This is the case in an extended dinner scene early in the film.

The scene captures the tensions of the family dinner, something that rarely brings people together as much as we’d like it to. There is awkwardness and fighting that cuts close to home. The scene is also funny and in essence captures the tone of the rest of the film.

Some cynics will want to dismiss the family’s quirks as unrealistic exaggerations, but everyone has family issues that when explained to others seem ridiculous. “Little Miss Sunshine” doesn’t pull back from that fact.

That means we have father Richard (Greg Kinnear, “As Good as it Gets,” “The Matador”) forever selling his motivational success program to whoever will listen, son Dwayne (Paul Dano), taking a vow of silence until he can go to flight school, Uncle Frank (Steve Carell), who attempted suicide after being dumped by one of his male students and Grandpa is a foul mouthed, horny heroin addict. The only relatively normal family member is the mother Sheryl (Toni Collette, “The Sixth Sense,” “About a Boy”).

Even if the characters are a bit idiosyncratic they feel authentic. There have been plenty of films about families with quirky family members, but the difference is “Little Miss Sunshine” doesn’t laugh at its characters and instead creates empathy for them.

Everyone in the cast is excellent, but for most people Carell, an alum of “The Daily Show” and the star of the U.S. version of “The Office” is going to be the big surprise.

Known for silly antics in movies like “Anchorman” and “The 40 Year Old Virgin,” Carell gives a quiet, nuanced performance in which the hurt is always buried just below the surface. Even though the character is gay, Carell never plays the stereotype or goes for camp.

Carell’s Frank and Dano’s Dwayne form a quick bond and their dynamic is one that doesn’t feel like a mere plot device. Towards the end of the film they share a conversation about life that has a lot of truth. It is a scene, like most of the movie, which walks the fine line of comedy and tragedy.

Profane grandparents have been getting laughs for a long time, but Arkin instills his with a weariness. He isn’t mean, in fact he’s quite sweet, he’s just also very crass. Grandpa gives a sex pep talk to Dwayne that is hilariously vulgar. He’s old and therefore believes he is entitled to say and do what he wants. The character never seems like a cheap laugh and is oddly lovable.

Kinnear has perhaps the most difficult role as Richard, who is constantly giving speeches about winners and losers. Richard is overbearing and at times so infuriating you want to smack him especially when he tells Olive that if she eats ice cream she’ll get fat and fat girls aren’t winners.

Yet, Kinnear allows the character more dimensions than just that of an asshole. He needs to believe in his motivational system because he’s just as flawed and insecure as the rest of his family and the system is his crutch.

Richard redeems himself in the end and there is a sense that he’s changed, but Kinnear does it through facial expressions and gestures not words. Michael Arndt script thankfully doesn’t give any big speeches where we are told Richard has changed. The film trusts us to see it on our own.

Collette has the least showy role as a mother just trying to be there for her family, but it isn’t a performance that should be ignored. Collette’s Sheryl is attempting to be the stable one that holds together a fractured family. Sheryl has a few moments of emotional snaps, but for the most part keeps herself in check. Collette subtly shows the weight of staying strong for her family on her face and in her body.

“Little Miss Sunshine” looks at what the true meaning of winning, success and normal is and concludes that what is most important is to stay true to yourself. That makes the movie sound trite, where it is genuine and heartfelt. Writer Arndt and directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris never slip into over sentimentality or preachiness.

The story’s arch may not be fresh, but how it is told, without pretense, irony and with honesty and compassion is what lifts the film above formula into something special.

This is a movie where all the elements come together perfectly. The score, which heavily features the music of the band Devotcka is as beautiful and offbeat as the film itself and a perfect compliment to it. The editing and cinematography isn't flashy and allows for shots that are well composed and dynamic. It is the sort of movie that will make you laugh and cry, maybe even at the same time.

A 'holiday' enjoyed even by a male

I like romantic comedies. I am actually quite fond of them. Perhaps I’ve forgotten my place in society. I should be going to the latest action movie not loving it up at “The Holiday.” I am reminded of my gender confusion quite regularly. Most recently it was by the Chicago Sun Times' Richard Roeper in his review of “The Holiday.”

“Not to engage in gender stereotyping -- check that, to engage in gender stereotyping -- I can't imagine any man choosing to see this movie on his own, though millions of men will see it on date night. They won't hate it, but they won't miss it when it's over.”

At this point I meekly raise my hand and cough, “I saw it on my own.” Well, all right, I did see it with my mother and sister, but it was my pick and I enjoyed it the most. I even have the poster hanging on my wall.

Yet, most reviews insist that “The Holiday” is only for women. The romantic comedy is meant to be a kryptonite to the average male and an affront to their masculinity. It is true the target audience of “The Holiday” is female, but it isn’t without joys that transcend gender.

Thanks to a gimmicky premise, you get a two for one deal with “The Holiday.” Two heartbroken women meet online and decide two swap homes for two weeks. Our two heroines are Amanda (Cameron Diaz), a Hollywood editor of movie trailers and Iris (Kate Winslet), a London journalist.

In the trade, Iris gets a massive mansion, a sweet golden era of Hollywood screenwriter as a neighbor (Eli Wallach) and Jack Black’s Miles, a film composer as a love interest. Amanda receives a small English cottage and Iris’ brother Graham (Jude Law) as her holiday fling.

Although both plots have their charms, Winslet’s is the one that feels the most complete with characters that have life and color. A whole film should’ve been dedicated to these characters.

Winslet’s Iris has a full character arc. She’s left heartbroken and insecure at the beginning of film and through her interactions with Wallach and Black regains her confidence and sense of self. It is transformation developed slowly and it is a testament to Winslet’s talent that she creates such a complete character in a film that is being dismissed as mere fluff.

Wallach, a veteran actor who appeared as the villain in westerns like “The Magnificent Seven” and “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly,” is a delight as a sort of elder statesmen of Hollywood.

At 90, Wallach gives a performance with more warmth and genuine sweetness than someone a third of his age. His scenes with Winslet where he coaches her a film history and she prepares him for a special presentation of his work are some of the best of the movie.

At first glance Black may seem like an unlikely romantic lead, but he does a nice job dialing down the maniac energy he provided such films as “High Fidelity” and “School of Rock.” Since Miles composes film scores, it allows Black to have tangents of musical whimsy that should satisfy his fan, but even so it is a performance of surprising restraint and charm.

Black’s performance paired with his underrated work in “King Kong” proves that while he may go over-the-top in his own films, when called upon to actually act he can rise to the occasion.

Winslet and Black develop a relationship that is based in friendship first and grows into something more. There’s a real sense of Winslet emotionally connecting with both Black and Wallach.

The same doesn’t hold true for Diaz, who is left with a plot that is less dynamic. Her relationship with Law is based in sex and then grows into something more, but the shallowness of their first encounter permeates through the rest of the film. Despite Law professing his love towards the end of the film, there’s little sense of these two characters truly connecting on a deep level.

Diaz’s Amanda has less of a character growth than Iris. We are told that ever even since her parents divorced she has been unable to cry. We know Amanda has changed and grown when she does cry and runs back into the arms of Law. It feels superficial, where the Iris plot felt authentic. It doesn’t help matters that Diaz has an irritating Joker-esque smile across her face for the majority of her scenes.

Law, with his appeal turned on high, is ultimately what holds together the Amanda plotline. Meyers gives him a character that goes against the typical archetypes, and Law plays it with just the right balance of light charisma, intellect and wit.

Most reviews claim the film is without surprises, but there is one twist involving Law that subverts expectations in an unpredictably pleasant way. To give it away would be unfair, but it yields some sweet, heartstring-tugging scenes.

The Amanda plot does have moments of humor and poignancy and utilizes an amusing device that has Diaz’ inner thoughts come across as the voiceover for a trailer, but the story feels only sketched out. Perhaps it wasn’t inevitable that one plot would suffer because as is the film is already well over two hours.

“The Holiday” is written, produced and directed by Nancy Meyers who has written and/or directed such films as “Private Benjamin,” the remake of “Father of the Bride,” the remake of “The Parent Trap,” “What Women Want” and “Something’s Gotta Give.”

Meyers is well versed in the formulas and clichés of the romantic comedy and tweaks them. This isn’t to say she doesn’t eventually embrace the formula; in fact the film wraps up exactly how you’d expect it to.

Critics of the genre complain that it is predictable, but that is sort of the point. Audiences have certain expectations when they see a romantic comedy. Viewers go because they know the outcome. Although the road is familiar it is the scenery that is meant to change.

DeNiro's take on CIA is long and dull

“The Good Shepherd,” Robert DeNiro’s film about the early days of the CIA is the latest in a trend of political films that took root in 2005 with “Good Night and Good Luck,” “Syriana” and “Munich” and continued on into 2006 with films such as “An Inconvenient Truth,” “Bobby” and “Blood Diamond.” If it is merely a passing fad, it is one that is an interesting reflection of the times we live in.

Political thrillers have been a staple of Hollywood for decades, but usually take the form of a popcorn movie. This new crop of films seems more rooted in reality using historical events to mirror the present or taking the stories of the present and giving them a context.

That actors are directing many of these films is in itself a statement of the political environment of the United States. Actors are moving behind the camera because they feel they need to say something about the world today.

The 1970s were perhaps the last time such rash of political films came out. Films like “All the President Men” were an indication of the distrust of the government. Today’s films are in that same vein. They ask viewers to question and hold the government accountable.

Based upon the trailers attached with “The Good Shepherd” it looks like the trend will continue on into 2007, but if this is a review of “The Good Shepherd” why I have begun with a lengthy digression? Because the trend the film is a part of is far more interesting than the film itself.

“The Good Shepherd” is over long, and slower than a snail. A film focused on volatile historical periods like World War II and the Cuban Missile Crisis shouldn’t be dull. Sadly, at times it is hard to stay wake.

Matt Damon’s Edward Wilson is the film’s lead character. Wilson is recruited in his 20s from Yale to be an agent for the government. From his perspective we see the early missions of what would later become the CIA.

Damon is surrounded be great actors in roles not much larger than a cameo. DeNiro pops up as well as Alec Baldwin, John Turturro, Michael Gambon, William Hurt and Billy Crudup (“Almost Famous,” “Big Fish.”) DeNiro even manages to pull Joe Pesci out of an eight-year retirement for a five-minute scene that feels like it belongs in “Goodfellas 2.”

Most of the cast barely registers. It isn’t bad acting it just rarely lingers in the mind. Turturro, at least in one scene, is the exception. He leaves an impression during a tense, shocking interrogation of a potential Russian spy. It is the best scene of the film. Most of the film is waiting for something to happen and never getting a pay off. The interrogation scene is one of the few to deliver an emotional punch.

Angelina Jolie as Wilson’s neglected wife is the only other actor to have a substantial amount of screen time, but she’s given a thankless role. Her character is nothing more than an archetype.

Jolie goes through the motions of a wife in a loveless marriage. She smokes cigarettes, drinks alcohol and starts out young and vibrant before quickly becoming worn and weary. Jolie gets all the surface elements across, but isn’t given anything deeper to play. Without the emotions behind the actions it comes across flat.

This leaves it to Damon to carry the film on his own. To his credit Damon gives a strong performance. He is one of the best actors working today and brings a quiet intensity to the role.

Wilson starts out a creative, poetic soul, who sacrifices his true identity to become a government agent. Damon makes that sacrifice believable and even painful. The coldness he reveals as he watches the aforementioned interrogation is chilling and saddening.

While Damon gives a strong performance he too can only do so much with material that never goes much below the surface. Damon’s character isn’t given any real emotional conflict until the last half hour of a two hour and 40 minute film. Too bad because it is a good conflict: what comes first your country or your family?

The film’s overarching theme is that you can’t trust anyone and when this is explored in the latter parts of the film it yields some moments of interesting drama. The problem is that you wait for nearly two hours before anything that holds attention occurs and by then any interest is fading fast.

There is nothing wrong with a slow-boiler that creates tension at a deliberate pace, but DeNiro as a director takes too long and it is unclear what we are building towards. The film jumps back and forth in time between 1939 and 1961 in a fashion that is confusing and unnecessary.

The script by Eric Roth (“Munich,” “Ali,” “The Insider”) doesn’t give a sense of what Wilson and his various colleagues are doing. It would seem even in a film about the CIA we aren’t allowed to know what they are doing.

It doesn’t help that settings, whether they be in Germany, London or Washington, are often non-descript and blend together. Aging make up is done poorly, so there is little help there in giving the audience a point of reference. Only the titles give a proper indication of when and where the scenes take place.

Visually, DeNiro’s direction is strong. He utilizes shadows and focus effectively to create an atmosphere of uncertainty and moral ambiguity. The look of the film is right and had editing been tighter, the taut, intelligent, thriller buried in the hulk of a film that exists now may have emerged. As is we’re left with a film with lots of potential that is seldom met.

'Apocalypto': Look past Mel and watch the movie

One of the great philosophical debates through the ages is whether a person can and should be separated from their art.

Can you watch the greatness of “Annie Hall” and forget Woody Allen’s marriage to Mia Farrow’s adopted daughter Soon-Yi? Can you watch the brilliance of “Chinatown” and ignore the fact that Roman Polanski was a pedophile? Can you watch “Apocalypto” and not think of Mel Gibson anti-semantic statements? Or must we ignore the body of work of the flawed, even the terribly so, no matter how brilliant their work might be?

Gibson’s “Apocalypto” is not a work of brilliance, it has numerous shortcomings, but it is still a film of merit if only for depicting a subject matter rarely seen on film: the Mayan civilization.

You have to give Gibson credit for being different, after all, this is his second film in a row following “The Passion of the Christ” to have dialogue in a dead language. Given most of America’s aversion to subtitles, it is fairly remarkable that both films became big money makers.

Much has been written about the supposedly sensationalistic, gratuitous and sadistic violence of “Apocalypto.” Indeed the film is violent and gory, but the graphic nature of the film is at least based in reality, which can’t be said for the truly gratuitous violence of horror movies like “Saw” or “Hostel.”

The Mayans were a violent people that performed human sacrifices and Gibson shows that. You could say this is in poor taste and judgment, but they aren’t being shown without purpose.

The sacrifices are presented as a means for those in power to manipulate and keep the masses in check. In that light, these sequences can be viewed as social commentary.

“Apocalypto” is advertised as a film about the fall of the Mayan civilization, but this isn’t a film of epic battles. Gibson’s message is simple; all civilizations rot from the inside. Just so you don’t miss it he puts it on a title card before the beginning of the film.

A large portion of the film centers on Mayan warriors pillaging hunter villages to take potential human sacrifices, but before the violence breaks out Gibson tries to show the daily life of the Mayan hunters. It is a feeble attempt to show that despite being more primitive that they really weren’t that different from us.

We see the Mayan equivalent of “Fear Factor” when a group of hunters convinces one of their own to eat a boar’s penis. Later the same hunter becomes the brunt of a “Jackass”-like prank once again involving a penis. This same hunter even has a nagging mother-in-law who is tried of waiting for her grandchild.

At this point you’re thinking, “Mel, you make a film about the Mayan civilization and this is what you come up with?” Luckily, the eye-rollingly awful moments are mostly contained in the first third of the film. Although, be forewarned, there is a laughably bad birth scene towards the end of the film.

The film picks up a bit when a warrior attack occurs and the survivors are marched to a sacrificial temple. The film focuses on Jaguar Paw (the dynamic Rudy Youngblood), who hides his pregnant wife and child in a pit they can’t escape before being taken away. Jaguar Paw and his fellow tribesmen are dragged and tormented through the jungle until they reach their grim destination.

Gibson’s recreation of the Mayan temples and city is amazing to behold and other details such as dress and piercings feel authentic. Even so, up to this point the film is lacking any real dramatic thrust. There’s an odd fascination to the events unfolding, especially the human sacrifices, if you have the stomach for them, but it is interesting only for the novelty that this is something different.

The film truly comes a life when Jaguar Paw makes his escape and runs back to his family while being pursued by his captors. The final third of the film is this pursuit and it is exciting, visceral filmmaking as Jaguar Paw uses his surrounding to thwart his enemies.

This is familiar territory, but it is done so well, that for the first time in the film you are truly involved in the proceeding. This is the sort of filmmaking Gibson is best at and is on par with the similarly themed chase at the end of Michael Mann’s “Last of the Mohicans.”

While the film raises issues about the collapse of societies and corruption of the powerful, the film’s core theme is of the importance of family.

Gibson, as both a director and an actor, seems drawn to stories where a man will do anything for his family. From “Mad Max” on through to “Braveheart,” “Ransom” and “The Patriot” it is a theme that keeps cropping up. So, it isn’t surprising that this is the dramatic drive he chose for “Apocalypto.”

“Apocalypto” isn’t a great film, but it is a good one. Flawed for sure, but daring in its subject matter. And that final chase alone is worth seeing.

'Bobby' gets the essence of the 60s

Peter Travers of Rolling Stone named “Bobby” the worst movie of 2006 for exploiting instead of honoring the late Robert Kennedy’s life and death. There were far worse movies last year.

It is true that writer/director Emilio Estevez isn’t one of the best filmmakers working today. He isn’t even a George Clooney. Even so, he has made a movie that has moments that are moving, humorous and truthful.

Very little of “Bobby” is specifically about Robert Kennedy. We see footage of his speeches and his campaign tour, but we don’t really get a sense of the man or his politics. This isn’t a movie showing the behind scenes workings of the politician. Instead the film tries to capture the essence of the era and that, for a generation, Bobby Kennedy was a last hope.

Former Brat Packer Estevez takes the mosaic approach of films like “Magnolia,” “Short Cuts” and “Crash” of having series of parallel plotlines and characters that converge. In this case that convergence point is Kennedy’s assignation at the Ambassador Hotel.

The film’s cast is a who’s who of veteran and up and coming actors that includes Anthony Hopkins, Martin Sheen, Laurence Fishburne, Harry Belafonte, William H. Macy, Christian Slater, Demi Moore, Sharon Stone, Helen Hunt, Lindsey Lohan, Elijah Wood, Shia LaBeouf, Ashton Kutcher, Freddy Rodriguez and others.

With a cast so large the film is often in danger of collapsing in on itself from its own weight. Some plotlines feel like extraneous filler. For example, Macy’s hotel manager having an affair with switchboard operator Heather Graham is underdeveloped and a waste of time.

The film’s oddest plot focuses on a married couple played by Sheen and Hunt. Their characters are only faintly sketched. All you know about them is that they are going to Kennedy’s speech and that Hunt has brought the wrong shoes for her dress so they need to go buy a new pair. One can’t fault Sheen and Hunt’s acting, which is fine, they make a cute couple, but their scenes add little to the proceedings.

Many of the other plots do stick. The strongest shows the politics of the Ambassador Hotel’s kitchen, the hierarchy of which goes from white to black to Hispanic. These scenes do a fine job encapsulating the racial tension of the era, in an effective, if somewhat overly simplistic fashion.

Many critics complain that Estevez’ dialogue is tin-eared, but Fishburne, as the head chef, delivers a a powerful and truthful monologue about the angry young man. Fishburne is an actor who is brilliant at giving speeches, but Estevez, as a writer, deserves credit for it is more than just Fishburne’s performance that makes the scene memorable.

Lohan and Wood have an interest plot in which Lohan agrees to marry Wood to keep him out of the Vietnam War. Lohan, who has been getting more attention as a darling of the tabloids than for acting, gives a sweet and sincere performance that shows she more than just a Paris Hilton-esque bimbo. Wood, who will probably spend the rest of his career trying to get out from underneath “Lord of the Rings,” also gives a realistic and believable performance.

The film’s most entertaining plotline centers on Kennedy volunteers LaBeouf (“Holes”) and Brian Geraghty (“The Guardian”) skipping out on signing up voters to take acid for the first time. Their drug induced exploits provide the film with some much needed, and quite amusing comic relief.

Some might find it inappropriate that a film trying to depict such a tumultuous time would digress into drug humor, instead of showing the dangers of drugs, but these scenes don’t feel out of place or forced and help to create the atmosphere of the time.

Moore as a fading star and Stone as the hotel hairdresser share a scene that is surprisingly effective. Moore has never been the greatest actress and Stone is a good actress (see “Casino” as prove) with poor judgment (“Basic Instinct 2”), but their scene is full of pain and honesty as they talk about what it is like to get older.

Perhaps the film’s heart is Hopkins as the former manager of the hotel, who still lingers around because the hotel feels more like home than his actual home. He sits around waiting for someone to play chess with, usually settling for Belafonte. Hopkins and Belafonte’s scenes together are charming and genuine and are some of the best moments of the film.

There are more plots and characters, but to get into all of them would take far too long. The better plots attempt to recreate the time period and for the most part are successful in doing this.

Estevez doesn’t quite capture the importance of Kennedy, but he certainly honors him well enough. His film is a good starting pointing for younger viewers, but further examination is necessary. For some, this film may encourage that exploration.

An intelligent, funny piece of 'fiction'

“Stranger Than Fiction” has been marketed as the latest goofball Will Ferrell comedy, but those expecting the outrageous antics of “Anchorman” or “Old School” will be sorely disappointed.

Ferrell is one of those comedic performers that can rub people the wrong way, but this is the film that could win skeptics over. He joins the likes of Robin Williams and Jim Carrey as a comedian who can repress his comedic urges and deliver a dynamic dramatic performance.

The film represents the latest addition to what could be called the high concept, fantasy comedy genre. Think “Bruce Almighty” or “Click.” But “Stranger Than Fiction” is closer in tone to “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” than either of those films. This is a Hollywood film with an indie spirit.

Perhaps the best comparison though is “Groundhog Day.” Like “Groundhog Day,” “Stranger Than Fiction” takes a seemingly one-note concept (a man being followed by a voice narrating his life) and finds fresh and interesting ways to sustain the concept for the length of a film.

The movie starts out as clever satire of film narration, a device that if used improperly, and often is, can be disastrous for a film. A lesser movie would stop with Ferrell simply shouting at his unknown narrator, but screenwriter Zach Helm and director Marc Forster decide to explore the very meaning of literature and art.

Ferrell’s Harold Crick is a lonely, numbers obsessed IRS agent, who suddenly hears the narration of his life. Initially, just an annoyance he tries to ignore, Harold becomes rightfully concerned when the narration tells him things have been set in motion that will lead to his death.

Harold is unknowingly the character of a book being written by Kay Eiffel (Emma Thompson, “Love Actually,” “Nanny McPhee”) an author known for killing off her lead characters. Luckily for Harold, she has a bad case of writer’s block that not even her assistant (the underused Queen Latifah) can help.

In one of the films most unexpected and oddly logically turns, Harold seeks the assistance of literature professor Jules Hilbert (Dustin Hoffman). Hoffman, in a role that easily could have fallen into overblown caricature, impeccably captures the essence of a slightly eccentric academic.

This is one of Hoffman’s best recent performances. The way he inhabits his office, moves and speaks feels authentic. Anyone who has been to college has had some form of this professor.

Hoffman’s Hilbert is unsure of Harold sanity, but like most academics, is fascinated by a new challenge. He approaches Harold’s life like the unfinished book it is and tells Harold to look at the events of his life to discover if he is living a comedy or tragedy.

The comedy/tragedy pendulum swings on the interactions with one of Harold’s audits, bakery owner Ana Pascal (Maggie Gyllenhaal, “Secretary”). What starts out as a hostile relationship develops into a quirky and surprisingly sweet romance.

Gyllenhaal is absolutely charming as Ana. She brings equal measures of sass and compassion to the character. The chemistry between Ferrell and Gyllenhaal is one of the joys of the film. Scenes like Ana teaching Harold how to eat milk and cookies and Harold timidly serenading Ana with the only song he knows how to play on guitar are nearly flawless.

While this may not be the heaviest drama and is certainly full of light comedy, Ferrell proves that he can dial down and give an appealing, human performance. Ferrell’s Harold, is a meek, withdrawn loner, who as a result of the narration begins to change his life. Ferrell creates a character you care about.

Helm has written a sharp, intelligent script that if given the wrong tone could’ve fallen into pretense or over sentmentality. Fortunately, Forster, whose previous films include “Monster’s Ball” and “Finding Neverland,” is perhaps one of the most versatile directors working today.

Forester finds the perfect balance between laughs, tears and intellect. He provides the film with a fun visual style, using animated graphs, charts and scales to visualize Harold’s world of number.

That leaves us with Thompson’s Kay, a writer obsessed with death, who often fantasizes about her own to find inspiration for her work. She is a chain smoking, recluse. Thompson has the film’s most challenging role. She is the tortured soul of the film that hides her sorrow behind caustic wit. Her depression is played straight and is at times painfully close to reality. It is a subtle performance of vacant stares and subdued gestures.

Kay is in many respects Harold’s mirror, but unlike Harold, she is well aware of her despair and channels it into her writing. Does this mean Harold truly is Kay’s creation? The film doesn’t explore the how or the why of its plot device, but simply allows it to quietly present questions about life and art. When Kay knows Harold is real can she knowingly kill him? What is more important a masterpiece or a human life?

How the film answers these questions is just about perfect. In a film that never does quite what you expect the ending is extremely satisfying and makes the whole all the better.

Fantasy by the numbers

It was inevitable after the success of "The Lord of the Rings" and "Harry Potter" franchises that the studios would try to capitalize on the newly rejuvenated fantasy genre. Fantasy, no longer regulated to geeks and basements, has become a massive cash cow that needs to be milked dry before it is too late.

What was going to be the next literary series to become a box office darling? Disney got a hold of C.S. Lewis’ "The Chronicles of Narnia," presenting a solid, if flawed adaptation of "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe." It was a box office success, assuring more in the series, and more from the genre.

Now with "Eragon," we have the first of a trilogy written by teenage novelist Christopher Paolini. It is a film that has all the visual splendor of Middle Earth, Hogwarts and Narnia, but little to none of the heart, emotion or soul. This is connect-the-dots filmmaking that occasionally becomes acceptable entertainment when some of the actors involved raise the material from mediocre to adequate.

The plot is straight out of the original "Star Wars." Eragon (Edward Speleers), a young man, who lives with his Uncle is plunged into an adventure when a dragon named Saphira comes into his possession. Suddenly, he’s a dragon-rider, a once great group of warriors that was struck down by one of their own (John Malkovich).

Luckily, there is one recluse dragon-rider left (Jeremy Irons) to train the boy. There’s also a mysterious princess (Sienna Guillory), a wisecracking scoundrel (who isn’t so cracking) and an evil sorcerer (Robert Carlyle, "Trainspotting"). Eragon and Saphira join up with a hidden rebellion and an epic battle between good and bad ensues. All that’s missing is Chewie.

On the level of story, "Star Wars" was hardly original, but it made up for by creating a universe that was. The characters may have been archetypes, but they were acted with vigor. The character dynamics and banter made up for any shortcomings. For the most part, the same can’t be said of Eragon. The world the film inhabits is a watered-down patchwork of other fantasylands.

Speleers is an unexceptional lead and doesn’t have the presence to carry a film. Guillory makes for a bland princess, but that isn’t necessarily her fault as she spends most of the film sick or unconscious. That is until she is revealed to be a master warrior in the final act. One-dimensional is giving too much credit to these characters.

Eragon and Saphira can hear each other’s thoughts, which means our hero’s CG co-star gets the voice of Rachel Weisz ("The Constant Gardner"). Sadly, it is rather flat voiceover work that only sporadically has any real flavor. Malkovich has nothing more than a cameo, setting up for a bigger role in the next film.

It is only Irons and Carlyle that give the film a pulse, however faint it might be. Irons brings wit, intellect and warmth to his mentor role that isn’t there in the writing. Even when the dialogue is hackneyed he manages to make it sound almost profound. Irons is the sort of actor who could make a frat joke sound intelligent. Thankfully, the film didn’t require him to do so.

As for Carlyle, it is clear he’s having fun. As the film’s villain, he isn’t given much to do, but in the scene where he first encounters Eragon, he’s so gloriously over-the-top that it as if you’re temporarily transported to a different, more entertaining film.

Carlyle seemed to understand that this material wasn’t Tolkien and played it loose and campy. Had the rest of the film been more tongue-in-cheek it might have reached the stature of guilty-pleasure. As is, it is a bit too serious for that.

The film does feature fantastic sweeping vistas of mountains and valleys. The dragon looks great, too. But we’ve seen these visuals before and more dynamically in "Lord of the Rings." It is pretty to look at, but un-involving. Without any depth, it is nothing more than eye-candy. This is mindless entertainment, which definitely has its place, just don’t expect to be able remember much of it a week later.

Merry Subversive Christmas: 5 Songs to Get Through the Holidays

The holiday season is upon us and with it Christmas music fills the air. The all too familiar voices of Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong and various other crooners dance in ours ears reminding us multiple times a day that St. Nick will soon be here. Yes, indeed it is the most wonderful time of the year, but do you sometimes find yourself wanting to burst your ear drum with a cotton swap if you hear one more Christmas carol, no matter how bloody wonderful the time of year is?

Fear not, I have the solution. Below is a list of the top 5 Christmas songs that take a different approach to the holiday. These songs are at times subversive, maybe a bit disturbing, but more importantly they provide a much-needed alternative. Enjoy.

"Silver Bells"- Paul Simon and Steve Martin (Sometime in the late 1970s)
Paul Simon and Steve Martin were both fixtures of "Saturday Night Live" in the 1970s, so it isn't surprising that they performed together. This rare show rehearsal starts out simple enough with Simon doing a lovely version of this classic song, but soon Simon's singing becomes mere backdrop for Martin's musings on the true meaning of Christmas. Martin deadpans through a cynical monologue that ranges from goofy to racy and reveals that while Christmas can bring out the best in us, it can bring out the worst too.

"Christmas in the Stars" (from the "Star Wars" Christmas album of the same name) (1980)
Strange and frightening things began to happen after the tremendous success of the original "Star Wars." George Lucas went from filmmaker to pimp, whoring his creation out in every way imaginable. This resulted in a 1978 Christmas Special that is astounding awful. Lessons weren't learn though and two years came a Christmas album. "Christmas in the Stars" is so awful as to become campy fun and, in the process, an intentionally spot-on parody of overly happy Christmas songs.

"Merry Christmas (I Don't Want to Fight Tonight)"- The Ramones (1989)
Although they had lost some of their vitality, The Ramones were still kicking around in the late 1980s cranking out three cord ditties. Surprisingly, one of the best songs from this era is a Christmas song that manages to capture the tension of the season. All The Ramones want for Christmas is a little love, but when that wish is delivered in Joey Ramone's patented slurred faux British accent over fast, catchy pop-punk riffs it goes down as smooth as egg nog.

"The Night Santa Went Crazy"- Weird Al Yankovic (1996)
Don't be fooled by the sweet guitar strumming of the open, this Christmas carol turns humorously sour fast. Weird Al is best known for writing parodies of pop hits, but his albums also feature original material, but original hardly means serious. Yankovic turns his twisted mind on Christmas in the story of the night Santa finally snapped and became a "big, fat, disgruntled yuletide Rambo." It is good, clean, somewhat violent fun.

"Bizarre Christmas Incident"- Ben Folds (2002)
This aptly named song from the tongue-in-cheek piano-man unfolds the tale of a man encountering Santa in the night, but this isn't "Twas the Night Before Christmas." The song answer the question of what would happen if Santa got stuck in the chimney. Needless to say, it doesn't end pretty. Best in enjoyed by those who like their humor black.