There are few stories that have affected me as deeply as A Christmas Carol,
the Charles Dickens classic that was one of the first to introduce to
me the idea of a villain finding redemption. I've seen oodles of
adaptations, and most have been very agreeable, with the Muppet version and the George C. Scott version taking top honors. I've now found one to occupy the bottom of the barrel: Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, written by Jon Lucas and Scott Moore and directed by Mark Waters.
This movie is a mild PG-13, but in some ways it's raunchier than many R-rated comedies. It takes the basic plot of A Christmas Carol
but makes the pressing issue not miserly greed and outright misanthropy
but insatiable lust and veiled misogyny. Connor Mead, played by Matthew
McConaughey, is our Ebenezer Scrooge of sorts, a bachelor who makes a
living taking shots of scantily clad women for famous magazines. His
conquests seem to loathe him and desire him all at once; not a single
female, it appears, is immune to his charms, but when they get together,
these ladies have plenty of venom to spill about his callous nature.
While Ebenezer is deliciously acidic, spouting off pithy zingers with
the force of a 19th-century Simon Cowell, Connor never has anything
particularly eloquent to say. He's just thoroughly obnoxious, though the
lechery that condemns him is overshadowed somewhat by the fact that
very nearly every other character in the movie is absurdly oversexed.
The movie centers around the wedding of Connor's younger brother Paul
(Breckin Meyer), who, as Bob and Fred rolled into one, is far more
likable than most but still guilty of cheating on his fiancee before
they were engaged. If there's a "Tiny Tim" of the movie, it would be his
impending marriage, the state of which becomes increasingly fragile
from the moment Connor turns up, to the shock of most, for Best Man
duty.
Filling the role of Jacob Marley is Wayne, the swingin'
uncle who taught Connor everything he knows. Wayne has a much larger
role in the film than Marley generally does; we see him playing a
pivotal role in flashbacks, and his ghost turns up frequently throughout
the film to talk things over with Connor. Michael Douglas plays Wayne
as comically despicable, with his affection for his nephew his only
really redeeming feature. Even once Connor has learned the lesson Wayne
strove to teach him, his deceased uncle is still up to his old tricks,
prowling the afterlife for Connor's cast-offs. Those would be the three
ghosts - except two of them are clearly not dead, while the other takes
the form of a braces-laden teenager, making Wayne's pursuit especially
creepy.
As usual, the ghost of the past is the one with the
most screen time. It would be nice, then, if she weren't so irritating.
Granted, this character is usually a bit of a nag, but in this case, she
also appears to be slightly deranged, making her commentary hard to
take after a few moments. Luckily, Connor's one true love is much more
tolerable. Her name is Jenny, and she is played by Jennifer Garner,
which is part of the reason this aspect of the story reminds me of the
far superior 13 Going on 30;
another is that the teenage version of Jenny is played by Christa B.
Allen, who also played the younger version of Garner's character in 13 Going on 30. (I also got a hint of LOST,
with pre-adolescent Jenny, like Ben-loving Dharmaville dweller Annie,
giving a birthday gift while on the swing set that the recipient still
cherishes years later.) In both films, a boy and girl grow up best
friends, but a longing for the popular crowd sweeps the girl away. In 13 Going on 30,
the girl turns her back on the boy, while he moves on, broken-hearted
but still true to himself. In this movie, Jenny never has the chance to
make a long-term, conscious decision like that, since at the first whiff
of heartache, Connor gets whisked off for indoctrination into his
uncle's intensive school of Love 'Em and Leave 'Em. As an adult, she's
bitter but otherwise nice enough, while he's the one with major
personality defects. The movies wind up in a pretty similar place, but
between sullying a beloved classic and making us put up with all sorts
of saucy shenanigans, The Ghosts of Girlfriends Past doesn't earn a genuine desire for a happy ending.
McConaughey is an actor who seemed to teeter between endearing and insufferable. In We Are Marshall,
the former characteristic was on display, but here, it's definitely the
latter. Certain scenes with the lovelorn Jenny and the sweet - but
never Bob Cratchit-force - Paul, whose high-strung but devoted fiancee
Sandra (Lacey Chabert) is much like Mrs. Cratchit, make him tolerable, but it's too little too late. While those who love A Christmas Carol will have fun pointing out parallels (and M*A*S*H
fans should keep an ear out for references to that show courtesy of
Sandra's dad, Sergeant Volkom (Robert Forster), a gung-ho Korean War
veteran), they might also want to listen for the distant but
unmistakable sound of Charles Dickens rolling over in his grave.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Number 2300: Season Three Marks the End of an Era in Ballykissangel
Last month, Netflix alerted me to a series that struck me as a perfect
find for St. Patrick's Day. While I'd already ordered up a Jakers!
DVD, prepared to immerse myself in the playful antics of the
computer-animated residents of an idealized 50s-era Irish town, the
discovery that Instant Viewing could bring me an hour-long, adult drama
evoking the same atmosphere was exhilarating. Ballykissangel,
created and, for the first three seasons, largely written by Kieran
Prendiville, quickly proved to be exactly the sort of show I was looking
for. It drew me in to an extent that few shows have, and so it seems
fitting that I should mark my next Epi-milestone with a review of its
most pivotal season. This is number 2300, a number which calls to mind
the 23rd Psalm, so appropriate for a show in which verdant fields
spattered with sheep are ever in the background; a show steeped in
Catholic traditions and focusing on the efforts of one very
conscientious "shepherd"; a season in which the comfort this famous
Biblical passage offers is often so sorely needed.
Although I made an effort to avoid spoilers, I made the mistake of looking over IMDb after I watched the first season; it's common practice for me as I check the names of characters and actors, but it's a dangerous proposition when one is partway through a television series and the cast list itself becomes a landmine of unwanted info about character arrivals and departures. I knew well ahead of time that one way or another, the central conflict of the series would be resolved by the end of the third season and my favorite character would be out of the picture. This left me to imagine all sorts of scenarios that might evolve over the course of 20 more episodes (eight in the second season, twelve in this third). I ran through many possibilities, but the season finale still caught me off-guard.
Ballykissangel begins with the arrival of Father Peter Clifford (Stephen Tompkinson), a Catholic priest from Manchester, England, in the tiny titular Irish village. We get to know all of the quirky residents through the eyes of this compassionate, self-effacing man of the cloth. He has a special gift for connecting with the common folk and assuaging the souls of the suffering, and he is quick to forgive others for their missteps. Going easy on himself is another matter, however, and from the day of his arrival in town, he fights against forbidden feelings that would undermine his vocation. Fiercely agnostic Assumpta Fitzgerald (Dirvla Kirwan), the kind but feisty owner of the locals' favorite watering hole, seems somewhat ill-suited for close friendship with anyone as devout as Peter, but there is an undeniable magnetism between them. As the mutual attraction increases, the viewer has to wonder what type of outcome for these two characters would constitute a happy ending.
My mom, always the romantic, was most invested in Peter and Assumpta's relationship. She was determined to see them wind up married, while I wasn't entirely keen on it, particularly if Assumpta's spiritual outlook remained unchanged. Though a season two conversation reveals that she does not consider herself an atheist, she seems almost incapable of discussing Catholicism without contempt. My primary concern was that Peter not lose his faith, a worry that seemed especially valid after this season's second episode, in which the hoopla over an apparently sweating statue inside St. John's, coupled with Assumpta's acidic critique of Christianity as a whole, causes the curate to question the validity of his beliefs.
Early on, I'd embraced Father Clifford as an inspiration, my favorite fictional clergyman since M*A*S*H's Father Mulcahy. Here was a man who had truly been called to a life of religious service, and he was such an exceptional priest, I despaired at the thought of him abandoning the ministry, though I thought a change in denomination could potentially serve as a suitable compromise. Neither of us wanted to see Ballykissangel turn into The Thorn Birds, with Peter remaining a priest while carrying on a long-term illicit affair with Assumpta. Ultimately, while certain turning points in the main plotline left each of us satisfied - and Tompkinson and Kirwan, who were engaged to each other for much of their run on the show, give electrifying performances in one another's presence - we both had conclusions in mind that we would have preferred to the one we received.
Season three contains twice as many episodes as the first, which allows more time to develop the characters who will presumably move into the spotlight in Peter and Assumpta's absence. Chief among there are newlyweds Niamh (Tina Kellegher) and Ambrose Egan (Peter Hanly), who are ecstatic to welcome an infant into their lives but soon find that parenthood can be an exhausting enterprise, particularly when an injured Ambrose is laid up and Assumpta leaves Niamh temporarily in charge of Fitzgerald's pub. Ambrose's mother Imelda (Doreen Keogh) becomes a prominent supporting character as the Egans are obliged to endure her meddlesome nature in exchange for the convenience of a live-in babysitter. Meanwhile, Niamh's father, Brian Quigley (Tony Doyle), finds himself in severe financial trouble after a much-anticipated business deal goes sour.
Among the rest of the townsfolk, Brian's luckless lackeys Liam and Donal (Joe Savino and Frankie McCafferty) continue to wreak havoc wherever they go; most of the catastrophes are unintentional, though in one instance they take their shenanigans a shade too far. They also have some moments of solemnity, as Brian's foul fortunes have a very direct effect upon them. Veterinarian Siobahn (Deirdre Donnelly), aspiring lawyer Padraig (Peter Caffrey), schoolteacher Brendan (Gary Whelan) and stern Father MacAnally (Niall Toibin) all receive life-altering news on the personal front, and each deals with the revelation in a unique and illuminating manner.
I found Father Mac's trajectory especially compelling; he becomes more human this season, and he also has the occasion to deliver a most excellent sermon that defies audience expectations. His most devoted parishioner, persnickety shopkeeper Kathleen (Aine Ni Mhuiri), becomes more sympathetic, if only momentarily, when a 50s-style dance and an unlikely suitor - the gentle farmer Eamon (Birdy Sweeney), whose deep affection for his livestock endears him to me even as his indistinct dialogue tempts me to reach for the "subtitles" button - transports her back to her girlhood. Assumpta's old flame Leo (James Nesbitt), a sophisticated journalist previously seen only once in season one, returns for several episodes in a surprising capacity.
As for Assumpta and Peter, both are missing for about a third of the season as Assumpta decides to get a taste of big city life in Dublin while Peter goes on a Father Mac-recommended retreat to deal with his conflicted feelings and later returns to Manchester for a family crisis. The good news is that while their absence is felt in those episodes, the other characters' stories are sufficiently interesting to make me think the show is probably still pretty good without its original stars. Nonetheless, part of the beauty of those episodes is the way they heighten the anticipation for the main duo's return. Without that as an anchor, will the fourth season be as engrossing?
Like so many television stars before them, Tompkinson and Kirwan evidently grew weary of their regular gig, necessitating that the series' most prominent storyline come to an end. Going back to the number 23, I'm reminded of LOST's Mr. Eko, a Catholic priest from Nigeria whose first centric episode was entitled The 23rd Psalm. After only a season, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje wanted off the show, leading the writers to dispose of his character in a manner both shocking and, to many, distressing. I can't help but wonder in both cases whether the writers' initial intentions were completely different from what was necessitated by the actors' availability.
On the other hand, M*A*S*H is an example of a show that worked through dramatic character changes and actually became stronger for it; in my opinion, most of the best episodes in that series come when Potter, Winchester and Hunnicut have replaced Blake, Burns and Trapper. But how would the show have managed if Alan Alda had been the one who requested an exit? Could it have flourished after losing its central character? These are questions I consider as I contemplate delving into the fourth season, and I'm not sure I like the answers. I suspect the last three seasons will seem more like a sequel than a continuation; without my beloved Father Clifford on board to keep me riveted, I hope I won't feel inclined to kiss Ballykissangel goodbye.
Although I made an effort to avoid spoilers, I made the mistake of looking over IMDb after I watched the first season; it's common practice for me as I check the names of characters and actors, but it's a dangerous proposition when one is partway through a television series and the cast list itself becomes a landmine of unwanted info about character arrivals and departures. I knew well ahead of time that one way or another, the central conflict of the series would be resolved by the end of the third season and my favorite character would be out of the picture. This left me to imagine all sorts of scenarios that might evolve over the course of 20 more episodes (eight in the second season, twelve in this third). I ran through many possibilities, but the season finale still caught me off-guard.
Ballykissangel begins with the arrival of Father Peter Clifford (Stephen Tompkinson), a Catholic priest from Manchester, England, in the tiny titular Irish village. We get to know all of the quirky residents through the eyes of this compassionate, self-effacing man of the cloth. He has a special gift for connecting with the common folk and assuaging the souls of the suffering, and he is quick to forgive others for their missteps. Going easy on himself is another matter, however, and from the day of his arrival in town, he fights against forbidden feelings that would undermine his vocation. Fiercely agnostic Assumpta Fitzgerald (Dirvla Kirwan), the kind but feisty owner of the locals' favorite watering hole, seems somewhat ill-suited for close friendship with anyone as devout as Peter, but there is an undeniable magnetism between them. As the mutual attraction increases, the viewer has to wonder what type of outcome for these two characters would constitute a happy ending.
My mom, always the romantic, was most invested in Peter and Assumpta's relationship. She was determined to see them wind up married, while I wasn't entirely keen on it, particularly if Assumpta's spiritual outlook remained unchanged. Though a season two conversation reveals that she does not consider herself an atheist, she seems almost incapable of discussing Catholicism without contempt. My primary concern was that Peter not lose his faith, a worry that seemed especially valid after this season's second episode, in which the hoopla over an apparently sweating statue inside St. John's, coupled with Assumpta's acidic critique of Christianity as a whole, causes the curate to question the validity of his beliefs.
Early on, I'd embraced Father Clifford as an inspiration, my favorite fictional clergyman since M*A*S*H's Father Mulcahy. Here was a man who had truly been called to a life of religious service, and he was such an exceptional priest, I despaired at the thought of him abandoning the ministry, though I thought a change in denomination could potentially serve as a suitable compromise. Neither of us wanted to see Ballykissangel turn into The Thorn Birds, with Peter remaining a priest while carrying on a long-term illicit affair with Assumpta. Ultimately, while certain turning points in the main plotline left each of us satisfied - and Tompkinson and Kirwan, who were engaged to each other for much of their run on the show, give electrifying performances in one another's presence - we both had conclusions in mind that we would have preferred to the one we received.
Season three contains twice as many episodes as the first, which allows more time to develop the characters who will presumably move into the spotlight in Peter and Assumpta's absence. Chief among there are newlyweds Niamh (Tina Kellegher) and Ambrose Egan (Peter Hanly), who are ecstatic to welcome an infant into their lives but soon find that parenthood can be an exhausting enterprise, particularly when an injured Ambrose is laid up and Assumpta leaves Niamh temporarily in charge of Fitzgerald's pub. Ambrose's mother Imelda (Doreen Keogh) becomes a prominent supporting character as the Egans are obliged to endure her meddlesome nature in exchange for the convenience of a live-in babysitter. Meanwhile, Niamh's father, Brian Quigley (Tony Doyle), finds himself in severe financial trouble after a much-anticipated business deal goes sour.
Among the rest of the townsfolk, Brian's luckless lackeys Liam and Donal (Joe Savino and Frankie McCafferty) continue to wreak havoc wherever they go; most of the catastrophes are unintentional, though in one instance they take their shenanigans a shade too far. They also have some moments of solemnity, as Brian's foul fortunes have a very direct effect upon them. Veterinarian Siobahn (Deirdre Donnelly), aspiring lawyer Padraig (Peter Caffrey), schoolteacher Brendan (Gary Whelan) and stern Father MacAnally (Niall Toibin) all receive life-altering news on the personal front, and each deals with the revelation in a unique and illuminating manner.
I found Father Mac's trajectory especially compelling; he becomes more human this season, and he also has the occasion to deliver a most excellent sermon that defies audience expectations. His most devoted parishioner, persnickety shopkeeper Kathleen (Aine Ni Mhuiri), becomes more sympathetic, if only momentarily, when a 50s-style dance and an unlikely suitor - the gentle farmer Eamon (Birdy Sweeney), whose deep affection for his livestock endears him to me even as his indistinct dialogue tempts me to reach for the "subtitles" button - transports her back to her girlhood. Assumpta's old flame Leo (James Nesbitt), a sophisticated journalist previously seen only once in season one, returns for several episodes in a surprising capacity.
As for Assumpta and Peter, both are missing for about a third of the season as Assumpta decides to get a taste of big city life in Dublin while Peter goes on a Father Mac-recommended retreat to deal with his conflicted feelings and later returns to Manchester for a family crisis. The good news is that while their absence is felt in those episodes, the other characters' stories are sufficiently interesting to make me think the show is probably still pretty good without its original stars. Nonetheless, part of the beauty of those episodes is the way they heighten the anticipation for the main duo's return. Without that as an anchor, will the fourth season be as engrossing?
Like so many television stars before them, Tompkinson and Kirwan evidently grew weary of their regular gig, necessitating that the series' most prominent storyline come to an end. Going back to the number 23, I'm reminded of LOST's Mr. Eko, a Catholic priest from Nigeria whose first centric episode was entitled The 23rd Psalm. After only a season, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje wanted off the show, leading the writers to dispose of his character in a manner both shocking and, to many, distressing. I can't help but wonder in both cases whether the writers' initial intentions were completely different from what was necessitated by the actors' availability.
On the other hand, M*A*S*H is an example of a show that worked through dramatic character changes and actually became stronger for it; in my opinion, most of the best episodes in that series come when Potter, Winchester and Hunnicut have replaced Blake, Burns and Trapper. But how would the show have managed if Alan Alda had been the one who requested an exit? Could it have flourished after losing its central character? These are questions I consider as I contemplate delving into the fourth season, and I'm not sure I like the answers. I suspect the last three seasons will seem more like a sequel than a continuation; without my beloved Father Clifford on board to keep me riveted, I hope I won't feel inclined to kiss Ballykissangel goodbye.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown Leaves a Bit to Be Desired
In honor of National Poetry Month, I'm writing a few reviews in rhyme this April. Here's my take on It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown,
a Peanuts special from the 70s that is amusing but doesn't quite do
justice to the holiday. I was similarly disappointed with the Peanuts
Thanksgiving special; maybe Peppermint Patty and Marcie are to blame...
It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown
I know that when the holidays come 'round,
A Peanuts special likely will appear.
I've come to count on good ol' Charlie Brown
Delivering a dose of Christmas cheer,
And Halloween just wouldn't be the same
If Linus didn't haunt that pumpkin patch.
So Charles Schulz's genius is to blame
If each one is a show I want to catch.
In It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown,
The unifying theme is not as strong.
We see the buddies venture into town,
Where money-toting Snoopy tags along
To buy a birdhouse for his feathered pal,
Whose luck with homes is Eeyorishly poor.
As Patty and the glasses-wearing gal,
Who's shockingly unversed in Easter lore,
Attempt to boil and color a few eggs,
Resilient Linus bends young Sally's ear
About the Easter Beagle, and he begs
A second chance to prove he is sincere.
An Easter Beagle? Hm, I wonder who
Could frolic merrily onto the scene,
Convincing Linus his beliefs are true?
And how is it that Marcie is so green
She absolutely cannot comprehend
That hard-boiled eggs are neither fried nor cooked?
Does Patty ever think to show her friend
The process Marcie somehow overlooked?
The special is all silly slapstick stuff.
It doesn't mention any empty tomb.
If all you're seeking is a bit of fluff,
Then it's a yummy goodie to consume.
But is it up to standard? No, not quite.
It's not profound. The plot's a little thin.
The members of the voice cast don't sound right.
And in the end, poor Charlie still can't win.
The characters? Inarguably great.
The music? Peppy. Animation? Fun.
But if you want the best installment, wait
Till Christmas; this is clearly not the one.
It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown
I know that when the holidays come 'round,
A Peanuts special likely will appear.
I've come to count on good ol' Charlie Brown
Delivering a dose of Christmas cheer,
And Halloween just wouldn't be the same
If Linus didn't haunt that pumpkin patch.
So Charles Schulz's genius is to blame
If each one is a show I want to catch.
In It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown,
The unifying theme is not as strong.
We see the buddies venture into town,
Where money-toting Snoopy tags along
To buy a birdhouse for his feathered pal,
Whose luck with homes is Eeyorishly poor.
As Patty and the glasses-wearing gal,
Who's shockingly unversed in Easter lore,
Attempt to boil and color a few eggs,
Resilient Linus bends young Sally's ear
About the Easter Beagle, and he begs
A second chance to prove he is sincere.
An Easter Beagle? Hm, I wonder who
Could frolic merrily onto the scene,
Convincing Linus his beliefs are true?
And how is it that Marcie is so green
She absolutely cannot comprehend
That hard-boiled eggs are neither fried nor cooked?
Does Patty ever think to show her friend
The process Marcie somehow overlooked?
The special is all silly slapstick stuff.
It doesn't mention any empty tomb.
If all you're seeking is a bit of fluff,
Then it's a yummy goodie to consume.
But is it up to standard? No, not quite.
It's not profound. The plot's a little thin.
The members of the voice cast don't sound right.
And in the end, poor Charlie still can't win.
The characters? Inarguably great.
The music? Peppy. Animation? Fun.
But if you want the best installment, wait
Till Christmas; this is clearly not the one.
Hannah Montana: The Movie Should Win Over Target Audience Despite Improbable Plot
It's been years since my family got the Disney Channel, so I was a bit
late to discover Hannah Montana. I first heard of her a couple years ago
when her calendars started flying off the shelves at the kiosk where I
was working. I soon realized that she was the Next Big Thing among
tweens, but my own experience with her has remained limited to
television guest appearances. This week, I finally got a whopping dose
of Hannah when I went to her movie in the company of a very ardent fan.
Now at least I have a better idea of what all the hype is about.
Hannah Montana: The Movie is a G-rated adventure with a storyline that Disney and other family-friendly filmmakers have used time and again. Unassuming kid hits the big time and lets it go to her head; by the end of the movie, she's developed a renewed appreciation for her roots. It's nothing new, but it's a logical angle to take for a film about a superstar trying to live a normal life. As the film begins, we find Robby Ray Stewart (Billy Ray Cyrus) concerned that his daughter Miley (Miley Cyrus) is getting too caught up in her Hannah Montana act. She's starting to act like a diva: ignoring commitments to family and friends, fighting with supermodels over shoes and just generally being rather obnoxious. It's time for an intervention. Can a couple of weeks as plain old Miley in her grandmother's (Margo Martindale) farmhouse in her tiny hometown of Crowley Corners, TN, cure her of her egotism?
The impression I got from what I've heard about the show is that Miley is a pretty grounded young woman; it seems her poor behavior is a recent development. And it's problematic enough to convince her dad to out-fox her conniving agent Vita (Vanessa Williams) and force his daughter to blow off a major awards ceremony in favor of Grandma's birthday party. That doesn't strike me as very responsible, despite his good intentions; it's one of many plot devices that fall just a tad flat. Other eyebrow-raising moments in the first few minutes include a confusing transition from a concert to a video shoot and a bit about Miley's brother Jackson (Jason Earles) heading off to college, though nothing in the rest of the movie seems to indicate that he's doing anything other than working at a small-town zoo.
Jackson's animal antics amused me, particularly because an ostrich is involved at one point, but the character serves little purpose in the film other than to take pratfalls, which include crashing to the ground from the top of a ladder, nearly being bitten by an alligator and trying to shake off a ferret that has wound up entangled in his clothing. Pa Stewart is pretty clumsy too, especially in one wince-worthy scene toward the beginning, but his character has considerably more depth. Much of the film is about his attempts to reconnect with his daughter while navigating a possible new romance with alluring local Lorelai (Melora Hardin). Meanwhile, Miley, who also seems to have inherited the family klutz gene, rekindles a friendship with her childhood buddy Travis (Lucas Till, who doesn't sing or dance but still may find himself the next Zac Efron-like teen dream), now a handsome ranch hand. Travis's aw-shucks manner and dimply grin endeared him to me quickly, making the teen romance angle the most interesting element of the story for me, though I also appreciated the emphasis on the importance of family.
There is, of course, a lot of singing in the movie, most of it done by Miley. Her performances are mostly fun and bubblegumish, occasionally reflective. Her countrified, motion-heavy Hoedown Throwdown, which she appears to have made up off the top of her head, seems destined to be this summer's Macarena. Also popping up in the film are the members of Rascal Flatts doing a down-home, folksy rendition of their hit God Blessed the Broken Road and Taylor Swift with a song that affords Miley and Travis the opportunity for their first slow dance. I found the flashiness of some of the concert scenes annoying - and the instant costume changes inexplicable - but Cyrus's voice is pleasant enough - when she's singing, anyway. While her speaking voice didn't make much of an impression on me, my mom found it grating. I couldn't tell if there was a huge difference between Hannah and Miley's speaking voices; I thought she seemed to have more of a twang as Miley, but I'm not sure that was consistent. As with Superman, I certainly question how nobody realizes that Miley and Hannah are the same person. The main difference between them seems to be that Hannah has a blonde wig and excessive makeup.
In the tradition of many corny live-action Disney flicks, Hannah Montana: The Movie features several bumbling villains. One, a developer named Mr. Bradley (Barry Bostwick) who wants to turn Crowley Corners' bucolic meadows into a megamall, is essentially a retread of Alonzo Hawk from the Herbie movies. British tabloid reporter Oswald Granger (Peter Gunn) is rather like 101 Dalmatians' hapless Horace and Jasper; he even works for a foul woman reminiscent of Cruella De Vil. Needless to say, their threat level is minimal, though Mr. Bradley introduces some conflict when Miley is compelled to bring Hannah Montana to Tennessee for a benefit concert. Though her best friend Lilly (Emily Osment) is on hand to help her be two people at once, complications naturally arise. Their eventual resolution stretches believability beyond reasonable limits, but at least the requisite happy ending is achieved.
I enjoyed this movie well enough, and I imagine that most fans of the show will eat it right up like my friend did. In a movie landscape in which G ratings are increasingly rare, I appreciate how inoffensive the film is. It promotes wholesome values, and the romance between Travis and Miley is sweet and reminds me of the puppy love storyline in Princess Diaries, which I thought was terrific. Yes, just about every aspect of this movie reminds me of another film, usually a better one; Hannah Montana: The Movie is derivative to the max, and screenwriter Daniel Berendsen doesn't seem to give viewers much credit for being able to pick up on plot absurdities and inconsistencies. This movie won't be taking home any Oscars next year. But I bet it'll clean up at the Teen Choice Awards, which should be enough to satisfy the famous songstress and her admirers.
Hannah Montana: The Movie is a G-rated adventure with a storyline that Disney and other family-friendly filmmakers have used time and again. Unassuming kid hits the big time and lets it go to her head; by the end of the movie, she's developed a renewed appreciation for her roots. It's nothing new, but it's a logical angle to take for a film about a superstar trying to live a normal life. As the film begins, we find Robby Ray Stewart (Billy Ray Cyrus) concerned that his daughter Miley (Miley Cyrus) is getting too caught up in her Hannah Montana act. She's starting to act like a diva: ignoring commitments to family and friends, fighting with supermodels over shoes and just generally being rather obnoxious. It's time for an intervention. Can a couple of weeks as plain old Miley in her grandmother's (Margo Martindale) farmhouse in her tiny hometown of Crowley Corners, TN, cure her of her egotism?
The impression I got from what I've heard about the show is that Miley is a pretty grounded young woman; it seems her poor behavior is a recent development. And it's problematic enough to convince her dad to out-fox her conniving agent Vita (Vanessa Williams) and force his daughter to blow off a major awards ceremony in favor of Grandma's birthday party. That doesn't strike me as very responsible, despite his good intentions; it's one of many plot devices that fall just a tad flat. Other eyebrow-raising moments in the first few minutes include a confusing transition from a concert to a video shoot and a bit about Miley's brother Jackson (Jason Earles) heading off to college, though nothing in the rest of the movie seems to indicate that he's doing anything other than working at a small-town zoo.
Jackson's animal antics amused me, particularly because an ostrich is involved at one point, but the character serves little purpose in the film other than to take pratfalls, which include crashing to the ground from the top of a ladder, nearly being bitten by an alligator and trying to shake off a ferret that has wound up entangled in his clothing. Pa Stewart is pretty clumsy too, especially in one wince-worthy scene toward the beginning, but his character has considerably more depth. Much of the film is about his attempts to reconnect with his daughter while navigating a possible new romance with alluring local Lorelai (Melora Hardin). Meanwhile, Miley, who also seems to have inherited the family klutz gene, rekindles a friendship with her childhood buddy Travis (Lucas Till, who doesn't sing or dance but still may find himself the next Zac Efron-like teen dream), now a handsome ranch hand. Travis's aw-shucks manner and dimply grin endeared him to me quickly, making the teen romance angle the most interesting element of the story for me, though I also appreciated the emphasis on the importance of family.
There is, of course, a lot of singing in the movie, most of it done by Miley. Her performances are mostly fun and bubblegumish, occasionally reflective. Her countrified, motion-heavy Hoedown Throwdown, which she appears to have made up off the top of her head, seems destined to be this summer's Macarena. Also popping up in the film are the members of Rascal Flatts doing a down-home, folksy rendition of their hit God Blessed the Broken Road and Taylor Swift with a song that affords Miley and Travis the opportunity for their first slow dance. I found the flashiness of some of the concert scenes annoying - and the instant costume changes inexplicable - but Cyrus's voice is pleasant enough - when she's singing, anyway. While her speaking voice didn't make much of an impression on me, my mom found it grating. I couldn't tell if there was a huge difference between Hannah and Miley's speaking voices; I thought she seemed to have more of a twang as Miley, but I'm not sure that was consistent. As with Superman, I certainly question how nobody realizes that Miley and Hannah are the same person. The main difference between them seems to be that Hannah has a blonde wig and excessive makeup.
In the tradition of many corny live-action Disney flicks, Hannah Montana: The Movie features several bumbling villains. One, a developer named Mr. Bradley (Barry Bostwick) who wants to turn Crowley Corners' bucolic meadows into a megamall, is essentially a retread of Alonzo Hawk from the Herbie movies. British tabloid reporter Oswald Granger (Peter Gunn) is rather like 101 Dalmatians' hapless Horace and Jasper; he even works for a foul woman reminiscent of Cruella De Vil. Needless to say, their threat level is minimal, though Mr. Bradley introduces some conflict when Miley is compelled to bring Hannah Montana to Tennessee for a benefit concert. Though her best friend Lilly (Emily Osment) is on hand to help her be two people at once, complications naturally arise. Their eventual resolution stretches believability beyond reasonable limits, but at least the requisite happy ending is achieved.
I enjoyed this movie well enough, and I imagine that most fans of the show will eat it right up like my friend did. In a movie landscape in which G ratings are increasingly rare, I appreciate how inoffensive the film is. It promotes wholesome values, and the romance between Travis and Miley is sweet and reminds me of the puppy love storyline in Princess Diaries, which I thought was terrific. Yes, just about every aspect of this movie reminds me of another film, usually a better one; Hannah Montana: The Movie is derivative to the max, and screenwriter Daniel Berendsen doesn't seem to give viewers much credit for being able to pick up on plot absurdities and inconsistencies. This movie won't be taking home any Oscars next year. But I bet it'll clean up at the Teen Choice Awards, which should be enough to satisfy the famous songstress and her admirers.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Honest Abe is a Lawyer to Reckon With in Young Mr. Lincoln
Back in February, when I was immersing myself in all things Lincoln, I discovered the movie Young Mr. Lincoln
on Netflix. I'd planned to bump it up to the top of my queue, but I
never got around to it, so it took me until April to see this 1939 movie
directed by John Ford and starring Henry Fonda. It was odd to see
Lincoln from his lawyer days, as I'm used to seeing him portrayed as
President. The case involved was loosely based on a case Lincoln tried
later in his career, but this movie is more about being true to
Lincoln's character than giving us actual facts about his life. In
honor of National Poetry Month, here's my review of the movie in verse.
Young Mr. Lincoln
John Ford and Henry Fonda made a pretty stellar team.
The Grapes of Wrath had Fonda play Tom Joad,
A man who loved his ma, a rugged hero with a dream,
A wanderer who walked a weary road.
Not long before that fabled film, the Ford and Fonda pair
United for another rousing tale
About a budding leader with an unassuming air
Who swore to see that justice would prevail.
Young Mr. Lincoln isn't a biography at all.
Most details it divulges are not real.
But Fonda is believable, a lawyer standing tall,
With witty tongue and a resolve of steel.
As Abe, he shows the sadness of a man who's suffered loss.
His craggy face is gaunt. His eyes are kind.
He's gangly and he's awkward, but he isn't one to cross;
There's power in the way he speaks his mind.
The movie, in its first third, has a muddled sort of style,
With characters we barely get to meet
And scenes of small significance that drag on for a while
As more important ones seem incomplete.
But once Abe has his chance to make a speech, the film's on track,
A courtroom drama full of clever tricks.
Two brothers stand accused of murder. It's Abe's case to crack.
He'll do his best to free them from their fix.
The little hints of romance scattered here and there are odd.
His first true love is given but a scene.
He bumbles through encounters with the ritzy Mary Todd;
She doesn't seem the type to be his queen.
If anything, the tale explores love of a different sort:
The bond between a mother and her son.
His clients' rustic ma is like his own, and in the court,
That helps him to unearth the guilty one.
I'd like the movie better if it weren't in black and white.
The first half hour left me rather bored.
But otherwise, I found this Lincoln tribute a delight,
So kudos, Henry Fonda and John Ford!
Young Mr. Lincoln
John Ford and Henry Fonda made a pretty stellar team.
The Grapes of Wrath had Fonda play Tom Joad,
A man who loved his ma, a rugged hero with a dream,
A wanderer who walked a weary road.
Not long before that fabled film, the Ford and Fonda pair
United for another rousing tale
About a budding leader with an unassuming air
Who swore to see that justice would prevail.
Young Mr. Lincoln isn't a biography at all.
Most details it divulges are not real.
But Fonda is believable, a lawyer standing tall,
With witty tongue and a resolve of steel.
As Abe, he shows the sadness of a man who's suffered loss.
His craggy face is gaunt. His eyes are kind.
He's gangly and he's awkward, but he isn't one to cross;
There's power in the way he speaks his mind.
The movie, in its first third, has a muddled sort of style,
With characters we barely get to meet
And scenes of small significance that drag on for a while
As more important ones seem incomplete.
But once Abe has his chance to make a speech, the film's on track,
A courtroom drama full of clever tricks.
Two brothers stand accused of murder. It's Abe's case to crack.
He'll do his best to free them from their fix.
The little hints of romance scattered here and there are odd.
His first true love is given but a scene.
He bumbles through encounters with the ritzy Mary Todd;
She doesn't seem the type to be his queen.
If anything, the tale explores love of a different sort:
The bond between a mother and her son.
His clients' rustic ma is like his own, and in the court,
That helps him to unearth the guilty one.
I'd like the movie better if it weren't in black and white.
The first half hour left me rather bored.
But otherwise, I found this Lincoln tribute a delight,
So kudos, Henry Fonda and John Ford!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Inclement Weather Brings People Together in Twister
In honor of National Poetry Month, I've decided to try writing some
reviews in rhymed verse. My second attempt is of the 1996 movie Twister,
an action-packed flick starring Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton as estranged
spouses thrown together in pursuit of a terrifying tornado. The
special effects still look pretty impressive to me after 13 years -
though I suspect flying cows will always look a bit silly... I love
that the movie features two actors from LOST (Jeremy Davies and Sean Whalen), a show which, like Twister, makes repeated reference to The Wizard of Oz, and that Philip Seymour Hoffman
again manages to steal the show every time he's in a scene. Tornadoes
have always freaked me out, so I wasn't all that interested in seeing
this, but I'm glad I did.
Twister
A twister is a brutal bit of weather
That leaves a trail of chaos in its wake.
If one touched down near me, my plan would be to flee,
So chasing one would cause my limbs to quake.
But Dr. Harding has her act together.
This scientist will Hunt, as well she should.
Determined to be brave if there's a chance to save
The helpless, she works for the greater good.
Her passion got its start with childhood trauma.
She's felt the terror of a Level Five,
And sometimes, in her dreams, she still can hear her screams
As Daddy died ensuring she'd survive.
It's almost vengeance, then, that drives the drama
Of seeking storms of monstrous appetite.
And now the moment's here. The gale of her career
Is just about to roar into her sight.
She has her faithful science team behind her,
A band of geeks (and future castaways)
Who thrive upon this thrill. Her erstwhile husband, Bill,
And his new love turn up now, of all days.
As if the doctor needed a reminder
Of her obsession's unrelenting cost!
But thrown into the fray, can Bill honestly say
That he feels no regret for what he lost?
A romance is rekindled through the danger,
And in the trenches, comedy is found
As Hoffman leads the pack in keeping smiles intact
While homes are swiftly lifted from the ground.
Though Michael Crichton's movies have been stranger,
The chance of cloning dinos is remote,
While killer twisters are a greater threat by far.
What's scarier? I think this gets my vote.
Twister
A twister is a brutal bit of weather
That leaves a trail of chaos in its wake.
If one touched down near me, my plan would be to flee,
So chasing one would cause my limbs to quake.
But Dr. Harding has her act together.
This scientist will Hunt, as well she should.
Determined to be brave if there's a chance to save
The helpless, she works for the greater good.
Her passion got its start with childhood trauma.
She's felt the terror of a Level Five,
And sometimes, in her dreams, she still can hear her screams
As Daddy died ensuring she'd survive.
It's almost vengeance, then, that drives the drama
Of seeking storms of monstrous appetite.
And now the moment's here. The gale of her career
Is just about to roar into her sight.
She has her faithful science team behind her,
A band of geeks (and future castaways)
Who thrive upon this thrill. Her erstwhile husband, Bill,
And his new love turn up now, of all days.
As if the doctor needed a reminder
Of her obsession's unrelenting cost!
But thrown into the fray, can Bill honestly say
That he feels no regret for what he lost?
A romance is rekindled through the danger,
And in the trenches, comedy is found
As Hoffman leads the pack in keeping smiles intact
While homes are swiftly lifted from the ground.
Though Michael Crichton's movies have been stranger,
The chance of cloning dinos is remote,
While killer twisters are a greater threat by far.
What's scarier? I think this gets my vote.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Daddy Day Care Is Silly and Sweet
In the spirit of National Poetry Month, I'm going to attempt writing
some reviews in verse form. My first effort is of the movie Daddy Day Care,
which stars Eddie Murphy, Jeff Garlin and Steve Zahn as a trio of guys
who decide to run a day care center. It's frothy. It's fun. It's not
as dumb as the previews made it look. Bonus points for Star Trek references
and a hilairously understated Jonathan Katz as a nebbish child services
inspector. And of course, Eddie Murphy is comic gold.
Daddy Day Care
Daddy One and Daddy Two
(Portly Phil and Chuck)
Try to get some kids to chew
Veggie-Os - oh, yuck!
Talk about a failed campaign!
Hotshot colleagues smirk.
Trudging home, they must explain,
"Daddy's out of work."
Moms bring home the bacon now.
Daddies mind the tots.
Gotta make some dough, but how?
Second Daddy plots.
"Taking care of kids is fun,"
Charlie says to Phil.
"Now we're each in charge of one;
More would pay the bills!"
Daddy Day Care rates are cheap.
Kiddos run amok.
Shy inspector takes a peep;
Daddies are in luck.
Add a couple safety gates,
Sign a couple forms;
They can keep their stellar rates
And their toddler swarms.
With more tykes, they need a third
Man to call upon.
Toss in Marvin, super-nerd
(Casual Steve Zahn).
Three dudes entertain the crew,
Listen when they speak.
Tots are happy. Parents too.
What a winning streak!
Conflicts come but quickly pass.
Potty jokes abound.
Little co-stars sometimes sass.
Plot points are unsound.
Gooey message perseveres.
Goofy antics rule.
Eddie Murphy and his peers
Run a spiffy school.
Silly movie. Do I care?
Really, not at all.
Show the youngsters if you dare;
They will have a ball.
Daddy Day Care
Daddy One and Daddy Two
(Portly Phil and Chuck)
Try to get some kids to chew
Veggie-Os - oh, yuck!
Talk about a failed campaign!
Hotshot colleagues smirk.
Trudging home, they must explain,
"Daddy's out of work."
Moms bring home the bacon now.
Daddies mind the tots.
Gotta make some dough, but how?
Second Daddy plots.
"Taking care of kids is fun,"
Charlie says to Phil.
"Now we're each in charge of one;
More would pay the bills!"
Daddy Day Care rates are cheap.
Kiddos run amok.
Shy inspector takes a peep;
Daddies are in luck.
Add a couple safety gates,
Sign a couple forms;
They can keep their stellar rates
And their toddler swarms.
With more tykes, they need a third
Man to call upon.
Toss in Marvin, super-nerd
(Casual Steve Zahn).
Three dudes entertain the crew,
Listen when they speak.
Tots are happy. Parents too.
What a winning streak!
Conflicts come but quickly pass.
Potty jokes abound.
Little co-stars sometimes sass.
Plot points are unsound.
Gooey message perseveres.
Goofy antics rule.
Eddie Murphy and his peers
Run a spiffy school.
Silly movie. Do I care?
Really, not at all.
Show the youngsters if you dare;
They will have a ball.
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