Disenchanted Suburbanites Get More Excitement Than They Bargained For in Date Night

I generally get a kick out of Steve Carell’s characters, and I often find Tina Fey funny, so I was interested to see that they had co-starred in a comedy-adventure. I don’t ever recall seeing a preview for 2010’s Date Night, written by Josh Klausner and directed by Shawn Levy, so when my cousin and I stumbled upon it recently, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but she reported that she’d seen it and found it funny. While I didn’t end up liking it as much as most of Carell’s comedies, it was a fairly fun romp.

Phil (Carell) and Claire Foster (Fey) are a busy couple living in the suburbs of New York City. They both keep pretty busy with their jobs, and Claire spends a lot of time running the household as well. Alone time with each other is rare, and when they do go out to dinner, their favorite pastime is poking fun at nearby couples by imagining ludicrous conversations for them. But when friends of theirs decide to separate, Phil and Claire decide to put some spice back into their marriage by having a real date night. What starts out as a romantic evening escalates into a series of disasters as they get caught up in a world of thugs and theft.

Fey and Carell both have serious comedic chops, and they’re on display here much of the time, though the dialogue is rather hit-and-miss. Too often the movie substitutes “crude” for “funny,” with the result that this tale of rekindling romance in middle age often feels like it was written by junior high schoolers. On the other hand, there are genuinely funny moments, and Carell and Fey make a nice couple. They feel believable together, and their squabbles throughout the film seem a natural outgrowth of two people who are used to each other but now have more of a tendency to see each other’s irritating habits than their endearing qualities. As absurd as some of their adventures throughout the night are, it’s sweet to see them rediscover what attracted them to one another in the first place.

The movie has slapstick aplenty, particularly in the form of elaborate car wrecks. One sequence in which the Fosters’ car becomes entangled with a hapless cabbie is especially memorable. While Fey and Carell anchor the movie, various supporting players also add to the humor, or sometimes to the groans. I didn’t find much to like about William Fichtner as D. A. Frank Crenshaw, who spends most of his time on screen lusting creepily after various exotic dancers, particularly the under-cover Fosters. I found Ray Liotta’s performance as a mob boss rather corny but fun, and James Franco and Mila Kunis provide some of the movie’s biggest laughs as a pair of petty thieves who get mixed up with the Fosters and unwittingly help them rekindle their passion. As suave millionaire Holbrooke Grant, Mark Wahlberg doesn’t have to do much beyond standing around looking like a shirtless Ken doll, but his brief moments of interaction with the Fosters drive much of the movie’s action.

Date Night isn’t a movie I would watch more than once, but it made for decent late-night viewing for my cousin and me. Carell and Fey both have better movies to offer, but this wacky comedy isn’t a bad way to kill a couple hours.

Glitzy 81st Oscars Are a Ceremony to Remember

I came into the 2008 Oscars having seen only three of the nominees: WALL-E, The Dark Knight and Doubt. I almost saw Slumdog Millionaire, but the theater was sold out and we never made it back; I have no excuse for Man on Wire, since not only does Netflix have it, it's available for instant viewing. But that will have to be my first post-Oscar pick. Anyway, though I hadn't seen most of the movies involved, I was fairly well-informed about most of them, and I found myself especially rooting for The Little Movie That Could, which came close to pulling off a Return of the King-style sweep.

Last year's ceremony was pretty short on frills. By contrast, this year's was showy, from the gorgeous crystal curtain hanging over the stage to the song-and-dance antics of host Hugh Jackman. I thought the ensemble tribute to musical theater featuring him, Beyonce, Vanessa Hudgens and Zac Efron was entertaining, albeit rather chaotic. But the opening number, where he so energetically and hilariously honored the Best Picture nominees (and The Dark Knight), was brilliant. Clever lyrics, great way of matching the music to the mood of the movies, and man, can that guy sing! And Anne Hathaway was a nice surprise. They looked - and sounded - great together.

I liked the structure of taking us through the movie-making process, which put more focus on the amount of work that goes into the more technical aspects of movie production. I was a little disappointed that WALL-E won in none of these categories, but at least it took home the big award for Best Animated Picture. (As if there was any doubt; I loved Jack Black's line about starring in Dreamworks movies and then betting all his money on Pixar winning the Oscar.) The WALL-E-centric ode to 2008's animated features was fun, as were his appearances in the romance montage.

One of the most memorable moments from the technical awards came with Best Cinematography, when Ben Stiller did a killer Joaquin Phoenix impression while Natalie Portman played it straight. It was hilarious, but it did seem a bit disrespectful; then again, perhaps the movie community feels like Phoenix has been thumbing his nose at them lately. What was really disrespectful was the fact that Stiller went on goofing around while the nominees were being read, so it didn't seem like anyone was paying attention to those names. I think he let the gag go on too long and detracted from their big moment. The Slumdog cinematographer gave a great speech, though, gracious and funny.

I was a little surprised that some presenters stayed on stage so long, but it seemed to streamline the process a bit, and I don't think anyone was complaining too much about seeing Will Smith presenting four awards in a row. The rising through the floor bit was fun, as was his comment, the fourth time around, that Hugh was napping. Probably the most memorable of that batch of speeches was for Sound Mixing. He really seemed to appreciate it, and taking it as a victory for his whole country was nice. And going back to Best Make-Up (one of several presented rather blandly by Daniel Craig and Sarah Jessica Parker), that was an impressive list of names to spit out in such a short time. Made for a somewhat dull speech, but I'm sure the folks who were mentioned appreciated it.

The one low point in the evening for me was when Bill Maher presented the documentary awards. I groaned when I saw him step out because I knew he'd have something inflammatory to say. As somebody who's generally more involved in television than movies, he felt rather out of place anyway, and instead of acting grateful for the opportunity, he seemed to be bent on deriding everybody. And plugging his movie. From his "silly little gods" comment to his dismissive remark after the Man on Wire guys made their speech, he just oozed contempt for the whole thing. I don't know if Maher's beef with them was the documentary itself or the speech, but I loved that they invited their subject up to the stage. He was among the giddiest people we saw all night, and I got a kick out of his Oscar-balancing and disappearing coin trick.

I expected that Prop 8 would come up at some point during the night, and it did. Sean Penn got a little heated with his remarks, but I enjoyed his speech overall, especially the shout-out to Mickey Rourke. Still, I preferred the emotional acceptance speech of Milk's incredibly young-looking screenwriter, and it was moving to see him getting choked up all over again as Penn accepted his award. His profound gratitude lessened the blow of WALL-E failing to get top screenplay honors. I still think it should have been nominated for Best Picture. I thought Tina Fey and Steve Martin were a great presenting team, by the way, and I was quite content to watch them banter their way through two awards.

Speaking of banter, Seth Rogen and James Franco's video was a hoot. As an ode to comedy it was rather strange, since half the featured movies were only funny because those two were laughing at wildly inappropriate times, but I thought it worked. I also found the promo for Jimmy Kimmel with Tom Cruise hilarious, and the only ad aside from the inspirational True North commercials that really got my attention. (I actually stayed up for Kimmel because of it and was rewarded with not only more silliness with Cruise but also deliciously ridiculous previews for The Curious Case of Benjamin Batman and The Colonel, a Civil War epic starring Mel Gibson. As Colonel Sanders.)

I found Queen Latifah's live song accompanying the memorial tribute classy, though I'm not sure if it was such a good idea not to fill the screen with the clips of the deceased. I found it rather hard to see what was happening, and I missed a few of the names. I liked Eddie Murphy's presentation of Jerry Lewis's honorary award, as well as the video (especially the clip of Mattie Stepanek), and I thought that Lewis was very gracious. He also looked like he was in good health. Anyway, he could have taken a moment to grouse about never being recognized for his work in the years when he was in so many movies, but instead he just seemed thankful.

One thing that I really liked this year was the way the acting awards were presented. It felt so much more meaningful to have five past winners stand up there and speak directly to the nominees than just showing a little clip of the movie. Each of the nominees really seemed to appreciate those words of praise; it was like they all got a prize. I especially got a kick out of Whoopi Goldberg's riff on nuns to Amy Adams (who I was hoping, but not really expecting, to win). I can't believe Alan Arkin flubbed Philip Seymour Hoffman's name, but it was a nice speech otherwise. All 20 of those mini-speeches were beautifully done, I thought. The Oscars didn't seem so concerned with speed this time around. There was time for reflection and big showy musical numbers, and nobody got played off the stage.

I was rooting for Meryl Streep for Best Actress, but Kate Winslet sure was tickled with her win. I kept forgetting she was up there for The Reader and not Revolutionary Road. It's been a big year for her. I liked her acceptance speech, especially the part about practicing this moment with a shampoo bottle in front of the mirror when she was eight, and thanking Peter Jackson for her first big break. Asking her dad to whistle so she knew where he was also was great. Of course, perhaps no other award of the night had generated more interest than Best Supporting Actor. I wasn't surprised in the least to see Heath Ledger receive the award (though it's slightly disturbing that the winning role has been a homicidal sociopath two years running). I thought both Kevin Kline and the members of Ledger's immediate family paid him nice tribute, and I thought it was appropriate that the cameras spent so much time panning through the audience for reactions to this particular award. It seemed like a cathartic moment for everyone there.

Of course, the king of the night was Slumdog Millionaire, and they must've cut to the ecstatically grinning Danny Boyle about a dozen times. I loved his speech, especially the bouncing up and down before announcing that he was receiving the award in the spirit of Tigger and his shout-out to the people of Mumbai. I wasn't all that interested in the music categories this year, but I thought A. R. Rahman seemed very touched. At first, he just seemed shell-shocked, but he recovered by the second award, and I liked what he had to say about the power of hope and choosing love over hate. After it won so many other awards, I would have been pretty surprised to see Slumdog not take top honors, so the Best Picture award wasn't a shocker, but it was a great moment with everybody, especially the kids, up on stage. What a night for them!

I took a stab at guessing in each of the categories, though I was completely clueless about a few of them. I managed to guess 14 correctly, which was slightly better than last year, when I had seen much more of the nominees. What does that tell you? Of course, I have Slumdog to thank for some of that. Now that it's been so richly rewarded, I'm even more determined to see if I think it lives up to the accolades. In any case, this Cinderella story provided an uplifting tone for the evening that was most welcome. And Hugh, if you're not too busy filming New Zealand (the musical! with hobbits!), I'd be more than glad to see you back next year. The Oscars seem to be expanding more and more beyond America every year, but if this night is any indication, that's not a bad thing.

Amidst All Its High-Octane Chaos, Spider-Man 3 is Quietly Contemplative

It's shaping up to be a spectacular summer. My trip to the movies tonight reminded me how many blockbusters await over the next few months: Shrek the Third, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, The Simpsons Movie, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix... Tomorrow I may begin rubbing my hands together in anticipation. But today, I'll simply bask for a while in the brilliance of the film that kick-started the season for me: Spider-Man 3.

The line wound around the lobby of the cinema where I attended a midnight showing of the highly anticipated third volume in the Spider-Man series. Originally slated for two Thursday night showings, the theater had added others; I imagine each of the allotted theaters was filled to bursting, as ours was, with fans who persevered as patiently as possible through countless repetitions of inane trivia, advertisements and, more enthusiastically, previews for some of the summer's most promising films.

And then came the movie, its dramatic opening credits a montage of spider webs and brief footage of key characters leading up to a shot of unassuming Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire) gazing, mildly impressed, at an electronic billboard welcoming visitors to the hometown of Spider-Man. It's been a bumpy road for Peter since he was bitten by a radioactive spider, but as this movie begins, everything seems to have settled down in his life. Spider-Man is now revered rather than reviled, and Peter remains firmly in Mary Jane's (Kirsten Dunst) affections.

The only trouble is Harry Osborn (James Franco), who still carries a torch for the girl he and Peter both admired as school chums and is none to happy with Peter, who he blames for his father's death. Unfortunately, this is big trouble indeed, since Daddy dearest is haunting Harry from beyond the grave, compelling him to avenge him by becoming the new incarnation of the Green Goblin and going after Spidey. And that's only the beginning...

There's a lot going on in this movie, whose action is driven more by events in the first film than in the second. We have the ongoing romantic trials of Peter and Mary Jane, who is struggling mightily as an actress, though Peter is too wrapped up in his own concerns to notice. We know that they love each other, but they hurt one another - and Peter is especially culpable in this department, particularly when he evidently lets his publicity go to his head and indulges in a rather steamy trademark Spidey kiss with a fellow college student during a photo op. He does this shortly before he intends to propose to Mary Jane, knowing that she must be watching, and even if she isn't that it will soon be plastered all over the papers; why would he ever think locking lips with another woman would be an acceptable idea?

Then there's the matter of the antagonists, and there are three: Eddie Brock (Topher Grace), who covets the same position of staff photographer at the newspaper that Peter does; Flint Marko (Thomas Hayden Church), the skulking petty thief who put a bullet in Uncle Ben; and Harry. It was this last who I figured would be the most important of the figures, and I think I can truthfully say that he is, though not quite in the way I expected. Each of the characters comes to a critical moment in which he must decide whether or not to forgive past wrongs. Because this is Peter's movie, the greatest focus is on him as he becomes infected with a mysterious black ooze that amplifies the worst traits in the person to whom it has attached itself. Initially drawn to this dark force by a lust for revenge on the man who killed his uncle, Peter finds himself irresistibly entangled in its influence, to the point that he barely knows who he is anymore. He must choose between the visceral power that comes with the mysterious substance and the security of being in control of himself, even if it means getting hurt in the process.

Maguire does as fine a job in this third installment as in others. At times, he is delightfully dorky, chugging along on his bike, getting spit-balls thrown at him in class, explaining the acoustics of the theatre to a self-conscious Mary Jane. But gentle, often goofy Peter fades as he begins to wear his new black suit at all times. Soon he is like Clark Kent on red Kryptonite, swaggering his way down the street, using his powers cavalierly, snapping at anyone who tries to talk a little sense into him. At still other times, he is humbled, reverent, somber. We see all shades of him, and it makes him very human.

The other cast standout is Franco as Harry, who spends half the film in a euphoric daze following a near-fatal incident that leaves him with no short-term memory. Conveniently, among his lost memories is the fact that he now hates Peter. The two are awarded a clean slate, a chance to repair their tarnished relationship, which they do, beautifully. And then, all at once, the seemingly possessed portrait of Harry's father speaks, and everything comes rushing back to the younger Osborn. Now he remembers what happened between Peter and his father, and he too must make a conscious choice. As nice as it is to see plenty of Franco's lop-sided grin while Harry is wandering through life in blissful oblivion, the dark emotions with which he wrestles upon receiving his revelation are what give his role in this film real depth.

If this all sounds a bit heavy for a blockbuster... Well, it is, but there is plenty of light to balance it out. The audience laughed aloud many times, including during every scene in which abrasive, tantrum-throwing editor-in-chief J. Jonah Jameson (J. K. Simmons) took part. They chortled at the first sight of Bruce Campbell, who appeared briefly but memorably in the first two films and took on a similarly comical role here as a maitre d' with a ridiculous French accent. Grace's aspiring professional photographer is entertainingly irritating, with constant snappy remarks and an attitude compelling him to do whatever it takes to get to the top. Always a treat: Peter's paternal, heavily accented landlord (Elya Baskin) and his daughter (Mageina Tovah), who chirps out messages for Peter and admires him from across the hall. And there are all sorts of moments throughout the film involving the main characters, from a botched proposal dinner to a reading from a play Harry wrote in high school, that elicit laughs.

So, too, is there plenty of web-slinging action to keep everyone happy, to say nothing of the impressive effects of the poisonous goo and the sand allowing Flint to morph into forms far more threatening than his original body. As a villain, he certainly is ominous, lumbering around town like Frankenstein's monster wreaking havoc. We know, too, that he killed Uncle Ben in cold blood. But the first time we see him in this film, he is risking life and limb to return to his home and see his terminally ill daughter, so we're inclined to be a little more sympathetic to him. But is Peter?

Spider-Man 3, directed by Sam Raini and written by Raini and his brother Ivan, is at once exhilarating and devastating. It ends not with a bang, but with a whimper as characters in the aftermath of traumas attempt to find their way together. Not only lives but souls are at stake; some are lost and others are found. The conclusion is a deeply satisfying one, albeit tempered by the realities of grief and loss. There were no throaty cheers that escaped the audience just as the credits began to roll. But there were minds in gear, spirits challenged, hearts opened. This is a movie that deserves all the ticket sales it will undoubtedly garner. If Spider-Man 3 is any indication, this will be a fantastic summer at the movies indeed.