Right now, I’m in the confessional, kneeling down (or whatever Catholics do in those things) and softly uttering, “Forgive me Father for I have sinned. As of last week I was unaware of a man by the name of Harvey Pekar, and his creative outlet depicting run-of-the-mill events in his oh so dreary life. Father, it’s a comic book, which I have never read. EVER! The name of his work is ironically, “American Splendor.”
The Priest damn near had a heart attack. Not because I’d never heard of “American Splendor;” he was pushing 90 years of age.
Okay, enough of the sarcasm.
To be honest, I had no idea why the film "American Splendor" was in my queue on Netflix (must have read about the movie on a blog), but I’m damn glad it was there.
"American Splendor", released in 2003, is a biopic like none other. It’s definitely an independent film as: comic illustrations pop up as they please (letting the uninitiated in on what the comic book was about), the great Paul Giamatti plays Harvey, Harvey also plays Harvey, the film cuts in and out from reality to movie, and has interviews with Harvey intertwined throughout the entire film giving the viewer a glimpse into the depressive, “who gives a shit” attitude that perpetuated his personality.
Harvey grew up in Cleveland obsessed with jazz and comic books. As an adult, he had a chance encounter with illustrator Robert Crum, and the two stuck up a friendship. Crum went on to fame in the independent comic book world, and Harvey went to his dead end job as a file clerk at the V.A Hospital. (A job he held until retirement).
After his second wife bailed on him, Harvey was fed up with life and depressed about his impending legacy. He necessitated a creative outlet, so he hunkered down and after drawing stick figures with catchy dialogue gave them to Crum, and to Harvy’s shock, Crum loved ‘em. Thus, the comic book “American Splendor” was born.
The catch is Harvey was disenchanted with the universal “Super Hero” persona of the day (late ‘60’s early ’70’s); Harvey wanted to write about “real” people. Subsequently, he shunned the conventional and wrote about his life.
The acting in this movie is excellent. Giamatti is nothing short of brilliant, and when one sees the real Harvey talking (with his raspy voice), and sulking around the streets of Cleveland, then the film fades to Giamatti doing the same-- it’s almost indiscernible.
Joyce Brabner (Hope Davis) is Harvy’s third, and final, wife. Hope brings a quirky sense of humor, and self, that uplifts the films comedic aspects, and the two verbally bounce off each other like lottery balls, but one can sense the subtext that is going on and that these two societal outcasts completely belong together. The two truly are one. This becomes obvious when Harvey develops cancer, and Joyce refuses to let Harvey wallow in his own self-pity. She demands that they chronicle the experience, which they did, and it became an award winning book, “Our Cancer Year.”
Also, there’s a scene where Joyce, a depressive herself, categorizes Harvey as obsessive-compulsive, and then in subsequent, almost montage-like scenes, rattles off the psychological impairments of his co-worker/friends. This is very amusing and excellent writing.
Harvy’s existence was far from glamorous, as stated above, he never left his job at the V.A. But, this was actually advantageous in that he observed his kooky co-workers and gained much of his material from them – and all of the people that surrounded him. (the cut below should explain all. Enjoy; It's brilliant).
Harvey Pekar lived a very strange, quasi famous, yet infamous life. He never gained huge monetary advantages from his work (David Letterman tried to help Harvey with multiple appearances on the show, but that, as one would expect, ended in disaster). If anything, Harvey was not a sellout. He just didn’t give a damn, but deep down in the depths of his soul, again, one gets the feeling that he actually did.
After I viewed "American Splendor", I felt like I was introduced to a man of the people who wrote about them and the crap everyday human beings must endure on a day-to-day basis--and he parodied it. It’s as if he tapped into the collective unconscious and let his anger and sarcasm flow like brew from a keg. He made fun of being human. Hmmmm, sounds like a comedian who made millions on t.v. with a show “about nothing.”
Unfortunately, Harvey passed away this year of cancer. I’m sure he’ll be missed by millions, but, at least, his legacy is fully in tact.
Directors Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini should be commended for a job exceedingly well done.
I give it four beers out of a six pack. Believe me, one doesn't have to be a comic book fan to enjoy fine art, and that's exactly what this is.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Cyrus: A big fat “waist” of time.
As an amateur screenwriter, I keep an eye on what’s going on in the business of Hollywood. And from what I’ve read in the last two years, it’s more difficult to sell a spec script, or for that matter, get a movie made these days than during the roaring ’80, when a dipshit like me could get a spec optioned for six figures.
So, when I sat (or should I say endured) Cyrus the other day, the only question on my mind was, “How does this happen?” My only answer: Connections. You gotta have ‘em, or crap like this doesn’t stand a chance.
Think of your favorite movies. Just take some time and reflect on the movies you really love. OK, finished? I’m going to bet that 95% of them involve a protagonist, a really bad-ass antagonist, and something that (in my estimation, and most in Hollywood would agree) is essential for a movie: Conflict. Conflict drives a movie; it’s what draws a viewer into the scene, the next scene, making you “emotionally” involved until (hopefully) a rewarding conclusion.
Believe me, I’m no expert, and I’m not the one getting movies made, but this is a concept, I truly feel, that writer/directors Jay and Mark Duplass have no concept of.
The movie’s plot line revolves around John (John C. Reilly), who’s been divorced from wife, Jamie (Catherine Keener) for seven years—and still hasn’t gotten over it! This, my friends, is what’s called a huge plot hole, in my estimation. Maybe I’m wrong, but seven years is A LONG time.
To continue to pine over your ex (who dumped you and is getting remarried), for seven years? Not buyin’ it. I’ll buy two years, like Miles in Sideways, but not seven, and this happened in the first five minutes into the film. This is a technique to make the audience feel “empathy” for the lost soul. It just made me think the guy’s a total loser who obsesses over objects he can’t have. Christ, even Milton from Office Space could nab another chick in seven years, and he couldn’t even get a damn piece of cake.
As the movie progresses, John ends up at a party, with his ex and her fiancé(Matt Walsh), and, of course, he meets somebody. That somebody is Molly (Marisa Tomei).
OK, now our suspension is getting severely tested way too early in the movie, as Molly takes a liking to John, and they actually have sex that night. So, now we have one of the most beautiful women on this planet banging one of the strangest looking, emotionally broke, financially strapped guys in L.A. Really? In one of the most plastic cities in the world, this happens? Again, not buyin’ it. (Why do writers like Aptow throw premises at us like Katherine Heigl screwing losers like Seth Rogen in Knocked Up? Does this really happen? Maybe in Sacramento, but L.A.? Sure, if he's a famous Producer).
As it turns out, Molly has a son, Cyrus(Jonah Hill). He’s a 22-year-old with no job, has never left the nest, possesses no ambition only to compose strange synth beats with his quite expensive music equipment. Mind you, we’re close to 30 minutes in, and, barring the first scene (a scene we’ve all seen before), there’s literally no conflict, just talking heads spouting boring exposition, and not done very well I might add.
Slowly, we get the feeling that Cyrus, playing it cool, really doesn’t want John around. Whew, finally we can wake up and maybe get into this movie. Well, in short, what could have been a really funny and conflict ridden movie turns out to be a dud. The total time of cognitive arousing amusement lasts maybe 10 minutes at best.
Another piece of exposition that Molly spits out in act one, is that, “No man has slept over [at her house] since Cyrus was born.” You’re telling me that a woman of her beauty doesn’t have guys chasing her to her house and banging the doors down? We're talking twenty-two years! That’s the piece of exposition that took me out for a walk, and the only reason I continued to watch, was because I had a meeting and had time to kill.
Also, there is a very unnerving aspect regarding the relationship between Molly and Cyrus: It feels damn close to incestuous. And with all this exposition flying around like fire flies, we are never let in on the minute detail of how the Molly pays the bills. She has no job, nor does Cyrus. I love it when screenplays leave out insignificant morsels of information such as how somebody supports themselves. It just is, and that to me, is arrogant film making.
Finally, the audience was “ahead” of the movie, meaning everybody in the theater knew what was going to happen before the event occurs. I actually herd a senior citizen whisper to her friend what was going to transpire in a scene regarding John’s tennis shoes three seconds before it actually happened. This continued throughout the entire movie. If Grandma is ahead of hot-shot screenwriters, I'm guessing they tossed the first draft up on the big screen and left the rewriting ... well, maybe there was no rewriting. This is a mortal sin. There were absolutely no twists, no reversals, nothing to engage the viewer—except Marisa Tomei’s stunning beauty. And maybe that’s what the film makers were banking on.
The direction is some of the worst I’ve ever seen. These guys have made some indie movies and went for that feel with the way the movie was filmed. It didn’t work. The lens was constantly moving to an extreme close up and then back to a fuller shot. This “cool” technique gave me a headache, and I damn near felt seasick as I left the theater.
Finally, Jonah Hill needs to go on a diet. I know he’s on a roll with two movies out now (the other is Get Him to the Greek), but he should seriously consider discontinuing shoving butter laden "rolls" down his throat.
As far as characters go, Cyrus was the most "entertaining." I wouldn’t spend five minutes with any of the others. (Except Marisa, in real life, which will never happen).
The critics gave this movie an 80 on RottenTomatoes, which, to me, proves they want to be “cool” by recommending an “indie” film. My question to them is: “Are you aware this is a mainstream movie?”
My recommendation: Don’t “waste” a dime on this mess.
I give it zero beers out of a six pack.
Footnote-- I'm aware there are thousands of movies that are similar to this one in that they attempt to "break away" from the Hollywood "formula." Cyrus is billed as a comedy, so, yes, they don't have to follow Blake Snyder's "Save The Cat" formula such as Miss Congeniality. But the question is, "Which movie made more money?" Cyrus won't come close to recouping it's budget. It's just too quirky and plain not funny enough to get the much needed "word of mouth" that a movie like this must have to succeed, where as the latter made millions and spawned a sequel.
God love Noah Baumbach. The Squid and the Whale was a great movie.
Margot at the Wedding was a huge letdown, and Greenberg didn't do well at the B.O.; or Nichole Holofcener, writer/director of Friends With Money and Please Give, among others.
I view these two writer/directors as the most successful, at this point in time, in the sub-class of indie/mainstream movies. My question is: "Given the economic climate, how much longer can they continue making movies that don't make money?" We all know what Hollywood's about, and artistic creativity isn't first on the list.
I'm glad they're out there, continuing to carry the indie banner; my only concern is that they might try to push the boundaries so far that Producers just pull the plug on them, effectively shutting down indie movie making altogether. Then again, these are two very established film makers, and what does it take to make movies like these: Connections. It all comes down to connections.
And if you're a nobody, like me, a killer script might help.
So, when I sat (or should I say endured) Cyrus the other day, the only question on my mind was, “How does this happen?” My only answer: Connections. You gotta have ‘em, or crap like this doesn’t stand a chance.
Think of your favorite movies. Just take some time and reflect on the movies you really love. OK, finished? I’m going to bet that 95% of them involve a protagonist, a really bad-ass antagonist, and something that (in my estimation, and most in Hollywood would agree) is essential for a movie: Conflict. Conflict drives a movie; it’s what draws a viewer into the scene, the next scene, making you “emotionally” involved until (hopefully) a rewarding conclusion.
Believe me, I’m no expert, and I’m not the one getting movies made, but this is a concept, I truly feel, that writer/directors Jay and Mark Duplass have no concept of.
The movie’s plot line revolves around John (John C. Reilly), who’s been divorced from wife, Jamie (Catherine Keener) for seven years—and still hasn’t gotten over it! This, my friends, is what’s called a huge plot hole, in my estimation. Maybe I’m wrong, but seven years is A LONG time.
To continue to pine over your ex (who dumped you and is getting remarried), for seven years? Not buyin’ it. I’ll buy two years, like Miles in Sideways, but not seven, and this happened in the first five minutes into the film. This is a technique to make the audience feel “empathy” for the lost soul. It just made me think the guy’s a total loser who obsesses over objects he can’t have. Christ, even Milton from Office Space could nab another chick in seven years, and he couldn’t even get a damn piece of cake.
As the movie progresses, John ends up at a party, with his ex and her fiancé(Matt Walsh), and, of course, he meets somebody. That somebody is Molly (Marisa Tomei).
OK, now our suspension is getting severely tested way too early in the movie, as Molly takes a liking to John, and they actually have sex that night. So, now we have one of the most beautiful women on this planet banging one of the strangest looking, emotionally broke, financially strapped guys in L.A. Really? In one of the most plastic cities in the world, this happens? Again, not buyin’ it. (Why do writers like Aptow throw premises at us like Katherine Heigl screwing losers like Seth Rogen in Knocked Up? Does this really happen? Maybe in Sacramento, but L.A.? Sure, if he's a famous Producer).
As it turns out, Molly has a son, Cyrus(Jonah Hill). He’s a 22-year-old with no job, has never left the nest, possesses no ambition only to compose strange synth beats with his quite expensive music equipment. Mind you, we’re close to 30 minutes in, and, barring the first scene (a scene we’ve all seen before), there’s literally no conflict, just talking heads spouting boring exposition, and not done very well I might add.
Slowly, we get the feeling that Cyrus, playing it cool, really doesn’t want John around. Whew, finally we can wake up and maybe get into this movie. Well, in short, what could have been a really funny and conflict ridden movie turns out to be a dud. The total time of cognitive arousing amusement lasts maybe 10 minutes at best.
Another piece of exposition that Molly spits out in act one, is that, “No man has slept over [at her house] since Cyrus was born.” You’re telling me that a woman of her beauty doesn’t have guys chasing her to her house and banging the doors down? We're talking twenty-two years! That’s the piece of exposition that took me out for a walk, and the only reason I continued to watch, was because I had a meeting and had time to kill.
Also, there is a very unnerving aspect regarding the relationship between Molly and Cyrus: It feels damn close to incestuous. And with all this exposition flying around like fire flies, we are never let in on the minute detail of how the Molly pays the bills. She has no job, nor does Cyrus. I love it when screenplays leave out insignificant morsels of information such as how somebody supports themselves. It just is, and that to me, is arrogant film making.
Finally, the audience was “ahead” of the movie, meaning everybody in the theater knew what was going to happen before the event occurs. I actually herd a senior citizen whisper to her friend what was going to transpire in a scene regarding John’s tennis shoes three seconds before it actually happened. This continued throughout the entire movie. If Grandma is ahead of hot-shot screenwriters, I'm guessing they tossed the first draft up on the big screen and left the rewriting ... well, maybe there was no rewriting. This is a mortal sin. There were absolutely no twists, no reversals, nothing to engage the viewer—except Marisa Tomei’s stunning beauty. And maybe that’s what the film makers were banking on.
The direction is some of the worst I’ve ever seen. These guys have made some indie movies and went for that feel with the way the movie was filmed. It didn’t work. The lens was constantly moving to an extreme close up and then back to a fuller shot. This “cool” technique gave me a headache, and I damn near felt seasick as I left the theater.
Finally, Jonah Hill needs to go on a diet. I know he’s on a roll with two movies out now (the other is Get Him to the Greek), but he should seriously consider discontinuing shoving butter laden "rolls" down his throat.
As far as characters go, Cyrus was the most "entertaining." I wouldn’t spend five minutes with any of the others. (Except Marisa, in real life, which will never happen).
The critics gave this movie an 80 on RottenTomatoes, which, to me, proves they want to be “cool” by recommending an “indie” film. My question to them is: “Are you aware this is a mainstream movie?”
My recommendation: Don’t “waste” a dime on this mess.
I give it zero beers out of a six pack.
Footnote-- I'm aware there are thousands of movies that are similar to this one in that they attempt to "break away" from the Hollywood "formula." Cyrus is billed as a comedy, so, yes, they don't have to follow Blake Snyder's "Save The Cat" formula such as Miss Congeniality. But the question is, "Which movie made more money?" Cyrus won't come close to recouping it's budget. It's just too quirky and plain not funny enough to get the much needed "word of mouth" that a movie like this must have to succeed, where as the latter made millions and spawned a sequel.
God love Noah Baumbach. The Squid and the Whale was a great movie.
Margot at the Wedding was a huge letdown, and Greenberg didn't do well at the B.O.; or Nichole Holofcener, writer/director of Friends With Money and Please Give, among others.
I view these two writer/directors as the most successful, at this point in time, in the sub-class of indie/mainstream movies. My question is: "Given the economic climate, how much longer can they continue making movies that don't make money?" We all know what Hollywood's about, and artistic creativity isn't first on the list.
I'm glad they're out there, continuing to carry the indie banner; my only concern is that they might try to push the boundaries so far that Producers just pull the plug on them, effectively shutting down indie movie making altogether. Then again, these are two very established film makers, and what does it take to make movies like these: Connections. It all comes down to connections.
And if you're a nobody, like me, a killer script might help.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Lovely Bones: Visually Stunning Ineptitude.
The Lovely Bones is not one of those movies; although, it did manage to squeak out about 30 million bucks profit. It was released in 2009 to some pretty tepid reviews, deservedly so (we’ll get into that soon).
The movie is based on a novel penned by Alice Sebold. The premise is nothing short of awesome: A 13 year-old-girl, Susie Salmon, “like the fish,” (Saoirse Ronan) is murdered, and her soul resides in a sort of “purgatory,” while she’s able to view her family, and murder, deal with the repercussions of the act. Only after she’s able to “convince” her family (and herself) to let go, will she ascend to Heaven. If I would have come up with that premise, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.
As they taught me in story analysis class, let’s start out with what’s amazing about this movie. In short, the scenes after Susie’s death, as she roams from one stunning set piece to another, are incredible. The colors are so vibrant and “alive,” it’s as if one would desire these settings to be Heaven. Some critics complained there were so many different “locations” she traveled through, it was confusing (God help ‘em if they ever viewed one of the greatest movies ever made, Mulholland Drive). B.S.! These scenes rival Avatar for artistic wonderment, taking the viewer to places they’ve probably never dreamed of, but wish they had. If these scenes were shot in 3D, they very well could have made Avatar look like a kid tinkering with the latest Apple iMovie software. (I’m not a huge fan of Crow’s latest).
Also, when Susie attempts to interact with her family and helplessly screams instructions to them are very touching. As the movie progresses, one can’t help but feel her loss of what could have been a wonderful and fruitful life. At least, in one of the movie’s hokey, final scenes, she does realize one of her human desires. Way to go Susie!
Finally, Susie’s voice-over (obviously text from the novel) is excellent. The emotions in her words are astounding and add much-needed depth to the experience. (It’s funny, in class, they instructed us to stay away from voice- over, and a hell of a lot of movies these days have, you guessed it, voice-over).
The problems with the movie are many. Mainly, the narrative is so jumbled; the movie doesn’t quite know what it wants to be.
The first act sets-up the almost too happy family, consisting of father, Jack Salmon (Mark Wahlberg), wife Abigail (Rachel Weisz), little sister Lindsey (Rose McIver) and little brother Buckley (Christian Thomas Ashdale). Honestly, Lindsey pops into the movie literally out of nowhere; she appears like a magic trick about fifteen minutes into the flick.
Susie is murdered by a very creepy George Harvey (Stanley Tucci), and the chase begins to find the killer, headed by Detective Len Fenerman (Michael Imperioli). OK, we have a serial killer drama on our hands. Then, we jump back and forth between Susie’s world and the “real” world. OK, now we have a mystical journey. After realizing who killed his daughter, Jack takes matters into his own hands and is hell-bent on revenge. OK, now we have a “pissed off father looking to kill the murder of his daughter” movie on our hands. After Jack’s alcoholic mother, Grandma Lynn (Susan Sarandon) moves in, Abigail decides to move to Northern California and pick grapes. What? (The movie takes place in the ‘70’s, but a hot, white chick picking grapes? I’m not buyin’ it.). The Sarandon character is so far removed from the picture, it takes the viewer out to Starbucks for a Latte, while there could be a very touching movie going on here. And finally, Tucci, in my estimation, gobbles up more screen time than our heroine, Susie.
Sure, a movie needs sub-plots, but any one of the above topics could be an entire movie in itself, and I blame the screenwriters and director, Peter Jackson, for not reigning in the runaway plots and keeping to the main throughline: Susie interacting with her family. When she does, the movie is riveting, but she only does this for maybe 10 minutes of screen time. This is a huge mistake, as Saoirse Ronan is so damn good in this movie, one has to hold back the desire to jump at the screen and kiss her.
I didn’t read the novel, but I’m betting that those who did were not all too pleased with the film. Source material can be held accountable as in Revolutionary Road, or take wide turns, as in Sideways. With three credited “professional” screenwriters attached to this film, I just can’t believe they were true to the novel.
I very much enjoyed the film; I just believe those in charge really blew an opportunity to make an incredible movie.
I give it three beers out of a six pack due to the riveting scenery and Ronan’s awesome performance.
Sorry, you have to cut and paste the link. This site won't let me put the video on it.
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