Scott William Foley

I’m proud to admit that the main reason I wanted to see Lars and the Real Girl is because I’m a Ryan Gosling fan.  I loved his work in The Notebook, Stay, and Fracture, so I figured as strange as Lars and the Real Girl sounded, I’d give it a shot.

If you ask anyone, they’ll tell you Lars and the Real Girl is about a guy who falls in love with a sex doll.  On the absolute most superficial surface, yes, that’s what this movie is about.

(SPOILERS)

However, what it’s really about is a repressed young man who absolutely has no idea how to interact with the world.  His mother died giving birth to him, and his older brother left him with their equally antisocial father.  So after the father dies, years later, the older brother and his wife return to share the father’s house with Lars.  Lars, being a genuinely good man, lets them have the whole house and moves into the garage.

Lars forever wears a baby blanket his mother made him around his neck as a scarf.  When he discovers his sister-in-law is pregnant, his awkward behavior intensifies.  You realize that he is suffering from a crippling fear that she will die giving birth as well, but he has no idea how to verbalize or even address these fears.

Enter Bianca.  Bianca is a sex doll Lars orders online.  The minute she arrives, Lars begins acting more normal and even happy.  When he brings Bianca over for dinner, his brother, Gus, and sister-in-law, Karin, are at a loss, but they don’t attack him over it.  Instead they watch as Lars interacts with Bianca as though she’s truly speaking to him, and he then asks if she can stay in the house because she’s very religious and doesn’t want to give the wrong image.  This is very important because it allows the audience to realize that sex with the doll is the last thing on Lars’ mind.  He needed a companion and something to help him get through his anxieties, and Bianca was the answer.

Karin suggests they take Bianca, who, according to Lars, was just in from Brazil, to the doctor to make sure she hasn’t suffered any illness as a result of her travels.  This, of course, is really a subtle way of getting Lars to the doctor.  The doctor pretends Bianca is real, and she later explains to Karin and Gus that Lars is experiencing a delusion, but he’s not schizophrenic.  Her suggestion is to treat Bianca like a real person and see what happens.

Before long, the entire town gets in on the act.  Bianca becomes a thriving member of their community, even getting elected to the school board.  It’s not that the town believes she’s real; it’s that they all love Lars so much that they’re willing to do anything to help him through this possibly life-long phase.

Before long, Lars undergoes several growing experiences that I believe ultimately leads to his relinquishing Bianca, though in a slow, heartbreaking, and natural process … relatively speaking.

(END SPOILERS)

I adore this movie.  My wife and I both were all-but crying at its conclusion because Gosling completely immerses himself in Lars’ quirks and Lars’ emotions.  Plus, the message is so absolutely touching.  I felt ashamed because throughout the movie I kept expecting some jerk to get on Lars’ case, but it never happened.  Lars and Bianca were accepted at Church, at office parties, at the bowling alley, at the hospital-everywhere.  And I felt shame because I forgot that when dealing with people face to face, when dealing with people you know, they will usually do right by you.  People are good.  People do care.  And it took this movie to help me realize I shouldn’t always assume the worst, most people in this world really are kind and generous.

Seriously, I implore you to watch this movie if you haven’t done so.  It’s labeled a comedy, but you’ll be amazed at the emotional depth of it.  It is so much more than just a movie about a guy who falls in love with a sex doll.

The fourth installment of the Indiana Jones mythos was adequate and entertaining, but failed to capture the charisma of earlier films.

I thought something that worked particularly really well was the pairing of Harrison Ford and Shia LaBeouf.  LaBeouf takes a lot of flak from the internet community, and I’m not sure why.  He’s got a charm about him that complimented and even augmented Ford’s.  I was also glad to see Ford pretty loose in this film.  He’s played a few of my all-time favorite characters, but he can at times come off fairly stiff on the big screen, especially in The Last Crusade.  As with Sean Connery, LaBeouf helps to add another dimension to Indiana Jones that gives Ford a little something more to work with and enriches his performance.

Furthermore, I appreciated that while Indiana Jones is much older in this movie, he’s also much wiser and has a sense of confidence and aptitude about him that really resonated.  Though always a professor, it wasn’t until this film that he really came across as a mentor as well, especially to Mutt Williams, LaBeouf’s character.  (Very funny that both characters named themselves after some aspect of a dog.  Remember, Indiana was the name of Jones’ dog when he was a boy.  Mutt … well, that speaks for itself.)

The dialogue in Kingdom of the Crystal Skull also wasn’t quite as rigid as in previous films.  While I loved The Last Crusade because of Connery, some of Ford’s dialogue really grated on my nerves.  This film had a sense of wit and fun about it that really helped the actors with their delivery.

The addition of communists as Ford’s antagonists seemed totally appropriate.  They acknowledged so much of the time period, from atomic bomb testing to the King, it really felt like a logical progression from where Indiana Jones was last film.  I loved that they peppered some of what he’s been up to over the last few decades into the story as well.  That was a very nice touch.

So while the acting and chemistry between LaBeouf and Ford was a positive, and the dialogue was a bit more organic, and the story had some enjoyable nuggets of times past, there were a few negatives.

First and foremost, it really bothered me how they took Karen Allen’s Marion Ravenwood, a tough, spunky character from Raiders of the Lost Ark, and basically made her into an ogling space cadet.  Nearly every time they had her on screen she had a goofy grin on her face like she’d been hit on the head too many times.  Marion was a character that was almost tougher than Jones, and they didn’t stick to that blueprint in Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.  It takes more than a flighty grin to win the heart of Indiana Jones.   

Also, I can appreciate that this is a family film trying to lighten things up for a broader audience, but there were moments in this movie that had me rolling my eyes.  I can handle mainstream appeal, but it had some really blatant lunacy that I couldn’t get past.

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

For example, Jones escaping a nuclear explosion by climbing into a lead-lined refrigerator and luckily getting blasted clear was a bit hard to swallow, but I managed.  Later, though, they had LaBeouf swinging from tree vines with a troop of simians in the jungle like he was Tarzan.  That … was impossible to overlook.  Finally, the mystery of the crystal skulls is revealed to be a race of inter-dimensional beings that we had previously believed aliens.  Now, I can handle aliens, no big whoop.  But, when it comes to Indiana Jones, I like him chasing down religious artifacts or some other mystic collectibles.  Seeing him face-to-face with an alien, it just didn’t completely work for me.

(END SPOILERS)

But even with all those issues, the overall movie was fun to watch and greatly entertained.  I felt like I wouldn’t be “wowed” by it and I wasn’t, but I enjoyed the evolution of the Jones character, his world, and the dynamic of his supporting characters. 

On a side note, I really hope they’ll continue on with the Indiana Jones movies, especially considering Jones’ new role.  I think they’ve left the future wide open for some potentially fun movies.

So while I wouldn’t say you MUST go see this movie in the theatre, it is definitely one to rent and if you’re willing to put up with a little silliness, I think you’ll find yourself entertained.

How can you go wrong with Tim Burton and Johnny Depp?  Answer: You can’t. 

First and foremost, you must understand that Sweeney Todd is a musical.  Many people don’t make this realization before they sit down to watch the film.  If you’re among them, don’t feel bad-you’re not alone.  However, bear in mind this is a film adaptation of Steven Sondhiem’s musical and the vast majority of the movie is pure song.

That being said, while I’m not particularly a fan of musicals, I am a fan of Burton and Deep, Burton, and Depp (in that order).  We get the classic gloom and melancholy playfulness we love from Tim Burton, and Depp makes Sweeney Todd his own with emotional glares, terse dialogue, and a stylistically eerie appearance.

And while it was obvious none of the actors were professional singers, I didn’t find Depp’s singing nearly as distracting as I thought I would.  Be aware, though, at times the music itself grates on the nerves.

Perhaps the most pleasant surprise Sweeney Todd offered was the scene-stealing acting and singing of Sacha Baron Cohen.  Of Borat fame, the nearly-unrecognizable Cohen dazzles with multiple accents, mesmerizing body movement, and probably the best singing existent within the film.

Burton, as usual, gives us wonderfully morose scenery and costumes.  Never a slave to convention, a musical would have been the last endeavor I would have expected him to undertake, but I’m glad he did.  It goes a long way to solidifying his versatility, and the fact he did it his own way with tremendous risk in casting only reestablishes my faith in his artistry.

Be aware, however, that had anyone else directed Sweeney Todd, I probably wouldn’t have bothered to watch it.  If you’re a fan of Burton/Depp collaboration or musicals, I think you’ll be pleased.  If you don’t particularly enjoy either, I’d make a point to avoid Sweeney Todd.

I’ve read a few of Ian McEwan’s books, and while I’ve always found them stylistically impressive, I’ve never been too enthralled with the actual stories.  Because of this, I wasn’t in a huge rush to watch Atonement, a movie based upon one of his novels.

In all honesty, I brought this movie home only as a courtesy to my wife who’d been sitting through an inordinate amount of “guy movies” of late.  Strapping myself in for a painful experience, I was humbly surprised when I found myself completely enamored with Atonement.

The story takes place just before the days of World War II, and is about a young girl in her early teens who falsely (and somewhat innocently) accuses a long-time family friend and secret lover to her sister of rape.  From that moment on, the lives of all three become forever changed for the worse.

The stunning angles and cinematography made this film gorgeous.  Each shot truly appeared as a work of art.  The story itself isn’t terribly innovative, but the editing of the film presented the story from multiple perspectives-using flashbacks brilliantly-in such a manner that the audience had to actively think as they watched the film, connecting dots and building bridges.  Because of this artistry, the story became far more complex and captivating than it would have been if presented linearly.  They don’t make movies quite like this anymore, movies that actually seem to take pride in presenting itself as an artistic endeavor.  I believe film students would have much to learn from Atonement.

Saoirse Ronan, the actress who played the little girl, was utterly convincing and authentically unsettling.  James McAvoy, who played the falsely accused, was likable without being overly dramatic.  Even Keira Knightly, who normally annoys me to no end (along with Orlando Bloom), acted her socks off and really seemed invested in her character.  In other words, all the main actors did a magnificent job with their characters.

Finally, I loved the ending to Atonement.  I won’t spoil it for you, but some movies are meant to leave you with a sense of satisfaction, even if not entirely realistic, and some are not.  Some present life as it really happens, and, as we all know, many times things don’t work out as we hoped.

I honestly recommend Atonement for anyone who appreciates inspired filmmaking.

(Notice:  Spoilers Ahead)

By far, the best thing about Cloverfield was the previews hyping its release.

Granted, by the time I finally got around to watching it on DVD, I’d seen the creature, but that’s really about all I knew.  I hadn’t heard much about the storyline or any major revelations.  Of course, I now realize why that was-there aren’t any.

Here’s what happens: Some twenty-somethings are throwing a going away party for their friend.  They document testimonials from friends and the pre-party preparations on a video camera so he can watch it when he gets to Japan.  He shows up, is surprised, and loves it.  His friend who he happened to sleep with a few weeks before shows up with another guy, they fight, she leaves.  He reveals to his friends that he never called her after their “special day.”  Then a giant monster attacks Manhattan, and they all flee in terror as the military shows up and shoots ineffective rockets.  They capture their exodus on the same video camera, and when the scorned girl calls the “hero,” she pleads for him to come save her, she’s trapped under some rubble.  He and his friends then risk life and limb to find her and rescue her, which they do, only to be killed by the monster’s parasites, the monster itself, as well as the eventual bombing of Manhattan by the military.  But the good thing is, it was all caught on a camcorder which was eventually found, and that’s how we get to see the unfolding of what the military dubbed “Cloverfield.”

The narrative technique really astounded me.  The movie starts off with a recording of the “hero” and his love’s special day after they sleep together, then moves into the going away party because the “hero’s” brother and friend don’t realize they shouldn’t be taping over it.  When they turn off the camera in the “real-time” of the movie, it reverts back to the special day from weeks previous, which was a pretty cool touch.  That, along with the hand-held feel of the movie, truly gave me a sense that I witnessed the events of the film as they actually unfolded.  That practice heightened the tension and made for an exciting visual experience.

Speaking of which, the special effects were beautiful as was the method of revealing the monster only in glimpses and snippets.  Remember, we were virtually getting a “first-person” view of events, so if the shaky hand-held didn’t go for a close-up on the creature, we didn’t see it. 

Sadly, that’s where the good ends.  The acting was atrocious, the dialogue lowered my I.Q. by at least twenty-points (and I can’t spare them!).  They somehow took my favorite word, “dude,” and made me hate it.  What little story existed was clichéd and insulting.  Those looking for answers as to what the monster was, where it came from, and why it attacked Manhattan got absolutely no closure at all.

With J.J. Abrams producing (he of LOST fame), I really expected better.  He says he was inspired by seeing Godzilla everywhere in Japan toy shops while there promoting a different movie.  He’s gone on record professing the wish to create an “American” monster that clawed its way into the social conscience as had Godzilla in Japan.  What he failed to realize, though, is that we actually have to care about the monster and the people its killing.  I, for one, was so annoyed by the whining and obnoxious external ponderings of the primary video taper, I couldn’t wait for him to cash it in so I wouldn’t have to listen to him anymore.

Finally, I really thought it was in bad taste to mimic so precisely the fall of the Twin Towers and the terrible events of that day.  A building can fall in a movie-I get that-but to copy people running down the streets and taking shelter in storefronts so exactly, I found it offensive and creatively apathetic.

Cloverfield would appear to be a movie totally dependent upon its marketing and hype.  I’m sure for those who saw it in the theatre and were firmly entrenched in the “now” of its mysterious campaigns, it was quite satisfying.  Months later, though, now that it’s out on DVD, it doesn’t hold up on its own merit.

Due to Judd Apatow’s involvement with Walk Hard, I really had high hopes.  I’m afraid those hopes were dashed.  Walk Hard was an exercise in gratuitous vulgarity that totally doused the few truly funny moments that existed. 

While the lyrics to Dewey Cox’s songs were uncouth, they were so creatively dirty you couldn’t help but laugh.  But that’s where the creativity ended.  Unfortunately, they decided to go overboard with the easy profanity, sex-jokes, and visual crudity so often I was rolling my eyes at the sheer stupidity of it all.

And that sums up Walk Hard pretty well.  They just tried to do too much and took the easy way out too often.  It got to the point I was watching the clock because I was bored out of my mind with the movie, and that’s never a good thing.

Avoid this movie and spare yourself the pain.

It’s a rare occurrence indeed when a film adaptation lives up to its source material, but with No Country for Old Men, Ethan and Joel Coen have done right by Cormac McCarthy. 

In McCarthy’s novel, he is terse and economic with details.  The book moves at an incredibly frantic pace and he shows no mercy to any of his characters.  Often violence is implied and sometimes even painfully described.  The Coens made sure not to deviate from this established tone.

Because they work in a visual medium, the Coens not only had to capture the essence of No Country for Old Men, but they also had to literally show us what these characters looked like, all the way from their faces to their boots.  McCarthy allowed the reader to fill in quite a few visual and auditory gaps, but the Coens had no such luxury.

And so, in my mind, we were awfully lucky the Coens found the perfect Moss and Chigurh in Josh Brolin and Javier Bardem.  Brolin oozed the silent, capable resourcefulness of Moss while Bardem took a character who had thus been sparsely described and created cinematic gold. 

Chigurh is unsettling in the novel, but in the movie the Coens and Bardem make him a terrifying study of subtle villainy.  I don’t think Bardem raised his voice even once in the movie, but his empty facial expressions and slight voice inflections were more nerve-wracking than any chest-thumping or profanity-laced tirades.  Too often villains simply become the reverse of the protagonist.  Not in No Country for Old Men.  Not by a long shot.  Each character is his own man, far and away.

From a cinematic point of view, the Coens were marvelous with their choice of shots, locations, costumes, props, and acting directions.  There’s a particular scene near the beginning of the movie where a man is strangled while laying on his back upon the floor.  Graphic, yes, but what impressed me to no end is the fact that the Coens made sure the man’s boot heels left hundreds of scuff marks on the tiled floor.  That sort of attention to detail is much appreciated.

Some may feel the Coens offered too violent of a film.  I think it’s important to note that they embellished nothing from the novel.  The movie is one of the purest adaptations I’ve ever seen, and McCarthy wrote one very violent, unapologetic, merciless novel. 

I personally am grateful to the Coens for taking a masterfully written novel and treating its subject matter just as the author intended.  It would seem that because they converted literary art to true cinematic art, they were amply rewarded.

Believe it or not, this is the first and only version of Blade Runner that I’ve seen.  I understand that there have been many different versions over the years, but this one, The Final Cut, is supposed to be the end-all-be-all.

Supposedly, the director, Ridley Scott, never intended the studio-mandated Harrison Ford narration in the original version.  In this new, definitive release, Scott cuts the narration, adds a few scenes, and cleans up a lot of the special effects.  Reportedly, other than the narration, there isn’t a whole lot different (though I’ve been told the omission of the narration makes the movie far more ambiguous).

I’m sure you already know this, but Blade Runner is about a man named Rick Deckard who is brought out of retirement to hunt a pack of rogue replicants, androids who appear human in every way and are forced to do the labor in space that humans won’t or can’t.  It’s obviously set in the future, 2019 to be exact, and Scott provides a terrifying but realistic take on a world overrun by people, pollution, and commercialism.  Every scene is dark and wet, and the film really suffocates the viewer with its dystopian outlook.

(Spoilers Ahead)

In his hunt, Deckard runs across a replicant played by Sean Young who doesn’t even know she’s a replicant, and he takes a love interest in her.  After a brutal and violent showdown with the last of the rogue replicants eerily played by Rutger Hauer, Deckard must deal with the fact that no replicants are to be left in public, and so what is he to do with Young’s character?

(Major Spoilers Ahead)

I suppose a major argument against The Final Cut is that the omission of the voice over no longer makes it obvious that Deckard is a replicant himself.  Allegedly, at the end of the movie, Edward James Olmos’ character leaves a paper doll unicorn outside of Deckard’s apartment when Deckard returns to run away with Young’s character.  This unicorn, some say, is an obvious clue that Olmos knew Deckard’s memories because Deckard dreamt of a unicorn, thus making him a replicant.

I don’t see it that way.  Olmos left paper dolls everywhere of various animals throughout the entire movie.  I believe Olmos left the paper unicorn outside Deckard’s apartment as a sign his character could have killed Young’s character, but chose to let Deckard try to live a life with her instead.  The unicorn is coincidental in the literal sense, but I believe it figuratively is a metaphor representing Deckard’s dreams now have a chance at reality with the sparing of Young’s character and a chance at love.

(End Major Spoilers)

I was surprised at all the big names in this movie, though I guess, other than Ford, they weren’t very big names at the time.  I found Ford’s acting stiff and difficult to watch, but everyone else did an adequate job.  The real pleasure of this movie came from the sets.  The special effects were impressive in their day, but I’ve never seen such a realistic depiction of a city gone to hell. 

I don’t know if I’d recommend Blade Runner: The Final Cut to the general movie audience, but I think any science fiction fan would really enjoy it on a variety of levels.

There’s so much I want to say about this film that I simply can’t for fear of spoiling some pretty captivating moments and revelations.I will say this: Watching Anthony Hopkins as the manipulative, arrogant, charming aeronautical engineer and Ryan Gosling as the manipulative, arrogant, charming lawyer was riveting.  Both men ooze charisma in this film, and the scenes in which they interact are magnetic.

I don’t remember hearing much about this movie when it was out in the theaters, and that’s a real shame.  Even I must admit I’m normally not one for “court room” flicks, but I finally got around to it anyway because I’m an Anthony Hopkins fan.  And by the way, Gosling, who more than holds his own with the veteran, impresses me more and more with each role I see him play. 

Let me assure you, this thriller was a winner all because of the superb acting.  I really recommend you give it a view and see two of Hollywood’s best at work. 

I want to point out that I did not see Grindhouse in the theater; I watched Planet Terror and Death Proof as two separate movies on DVD.  Therefore, I did not get the full “grindhouse” experience as the directors and producers sought to offer in the theater.

That being said, I watched Planet Terror first and absolutely had a blast with it!  Robert Rodriguez directs an ensemble cast featuring Freddy Rodriguez, Rose McGowan, Josh Brolin, and Bruce Willis in a wonderfully tongue-in-cheek zombie movie.  This film was pure, over-the-top action, obviously fake blood and guts galore, and dialogue demanding a straight face.  In other words, Robert Rodriguez knew exactly what sort of “grindhouse” movie he wanted to make and had fun making it.  Planet Terror in no way took itself seriously, and that’s what made it so enjoyable.  I won’t even bother to explain the premise other than to say a military weapon went wrong resulting in a zombie epidemic.  The movie didn’t bother to explain this too thoroughly, so why should I?  In the end, it didn’t matter at all.  Each actor played to their “type” perfectly, and this was just a very fun, hyper-stylistic movie.

Death Proof, on the other hand, represents everything that drives me nuts about today’s Quentin Tarantino (no pun intended).  Look, Pulp Fiction was unlike anything I’d ever seen and will forever be one of my favorites.  But Tarantino, the director of Death Proof, has lost the ability to reign himself in.  He says he wanted to make a movie with the ultimate car chase scene.  Fine.  Mission accomplished.  The other hour and a half is unwatchable, though.  Tarantino gives us an all female cast, scantily clad, spouting horrific dialogue delivered horrifically, which I’m guessing Tarantino found “cool.”  They talk mostly about sex, and as I’m watching it I’m envisioning Tarantino slobbering off-camera over these women he has amassed for his own personal fantasy.  The only saving grace of Death Proof is Rosario Dawson, who lights up the screen, and Kurt Russell, who gives a great performance for half the movie, then a terrible performance for the other half.  Tarantino took himself too seriously with this genre, and thus had the exact opposite effect Planet Terror achieved.  Oh, by the way, Death Proof is about a deranged former stuntman hunting down women and committing vehicular homicide in one case, and attempting to in another. 

My recommendation is to watch Planet Terror and skip Death Proof.  If you must watch Death Proof, I suggest only watching the last half-hour, the incredible car chase; the rest of it is painfully inept.