Manny and Sid Become Family Men in Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs

It seems like I’ve seen a lot of dinosaurs in the past couple of weeks. While I was in Florida with my aunt, uncle and cousin, I spent two days at Universal, and both days we rode the Jurassic Park river ride, which is half sedate boat tour, half panicky log flume, with animatronic dinosaurs in every direction. At Lion Country Safari, we wandered through a wooded path and posed with giant sculptures of dinos, and at Animal Kingdom, we spent a fair bit of time meandering through the dino village and embarking on the Dinosaur ride there. It was fairly fitting, then, to return to my aunt and uncle’s after our long drive up from Florida and turn on the TV to find Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs just starting.

I’m not sure what it is about the Ice Age movies, but I’ve seen all three of them now, and basically enjoyed them, but I always seem to watch them when other things are going on, so I’m not able to give my full attention to the movie. Hence, the details of this third movie in the Ice Age series are just a bit fuzzy to me as I think back on watching it a couple days ago as we wound down from our trip. However, I did enjoy the movie overall, even if it didn’t suck me in completely as Pixar always does.

Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs finds the main characters from previous movies each in a different place in life. Sensitive mammoth Manny (Ray Romano) is about to become a father, and while his even-keeled mate Ellie (Queen Latifah) is handling her pregnancy with quiet dignity, Manny is so excited that he’s beside himself. He’s channeled most of his nervous energy into providing a perfect playground for the impending arrival, but he still has enough left over to pester Ellie with endless questions as he worries over whether everything will go smoothly.

Surly saber-toothed tiger Diego (Denis Leary) finds all this lovey-dovey family stuff pretty off-putting, and it’s enough to make him want to set off on his own and return to a life of solitude. Meanwhile, eccentric sloth Sid (John Leguizamo) craves a sense of belonging, of truly being needed. He hasn’t been able to find a mate, and Manny’s domestic bliss leaves him feeling a little left out, so when he stumbles upon a clutch of Tyrannosaurus Rex eggs, he can’t resist bringing them home to raise them himself. Of course, this is a dangerous idea, and though he begins to care for them once they hatch, trouble really heats up once their biological mother returns for them.

Soon another great quest is underway as he tags along after the babies he’s come to think of as his own, ignoring the threat their mother poses, and Manny and Ellie trail after him, hoping to extract him. Parenthood is foremost on the minds of both Sid and Manny here, and it’s sweet to see the ways in which they prepare for and embrace that role. Their storylines mostly unfold separately, while Scrat the comic relief prehistoric squirrel dashes through every once in a while in pursuit of that ever-elusive nut as well as a particularly attractive female squirrel. His antics always steal the show in these movies, and that’s the case here as well, which is nice because the overall tone of the film is a bit on the serious side.

The animation in the movie is pretty nice overall. The landscape is on the bleak side, but it has its own sort of beauty. Of the animals, I think the mammoths come off looking the best. Sid isn’t particularly pleasant to look at, while Scrat is fairly cute but also deranged-looking. Diego has a solemnly handsome look about him, while piratey weasel Buck (Simon Pegg), who comes along to serve as a guide to the mammoths, just looks goofy.

Although I wasn’t drawn into this movie as completely as I might have been, I did enjoy seeing the characters again, and I thought the depiction of Manny and Sid trying to figure out how to be father was quite touching, even if the Sid angle reminded me a little too much of the first sequel to The Land Before Time. I hear that a fourth installment is on its way next year, and something tells me I’ll probably give that a try too.

Nothing Like the Holidays Is More Christmassy Than the Title Indicates

Last night, my friend Dan and I embarked upon an epic movie marathon to serve the multiple purposes of hanging out with each other, catching up on some must-see movies and helping ensure Dan would be good and tired for his cross-country flight today. Among the five movies we watched, only one was unfamiliar to me. Though I didn’t recall hearing anything about it before, I’ve been so anxious to break out the Christmas fare lately that I readily gave the A-okay to Nothing Like the Holidays, a 2008 movie about a Puerto Rican family gathering together for Christmas in Chicago.

The film is directed by Alfredo De Villa with a screenplay by Alison Swan and Rick Najera. I haven‘t seen any of their previous work, but as the opening credits rolled I spotted a few familiar names. A bushy-bearded Alfred Molina portrays cuddly patriarch Edy, whose joviality hides a secret that threatens to tear the family apart. John Leguizamo is Mauricio, the practical, rather geeky son whose Jewish, career-minded wife Sarah (Debra Messing) is starting to feel some major pressure to start a family.

Most of that comes from her mother-in-law Anna (Elizabeth Pena), who isn’t as insufferable as Everybody Loves Raymond‘s Marie but does seem to have a special talent for displaying a sweet demeanor dripping with veiled antagonism. Mauricio’s siblings include troubled young veteran Jesse (Freddy Rodriguez), just home from a tour in Iraq, and aspiring actress Roxanna (Vanessa Ferlito). Both must deal with romantic entanglements during their time at home. Meanwhile, hapless family friend Johnny (Luis Guzman) keeps the family in stitches with his ridiculous remarks.

This movie reminds me very much of 2007’s This Christmas and 2005‘s The Family Stone, both films about large, complicated families convening for the holiday, neither of which I enjoyed as much as this. There’s a whole lot of dysfunction in both of those families, rendering the Rodriguezes pretty placid by comparison, but there are a few conflicts that surface here, with the most pressing issue finding touching resolution by the movie’s end.

There’s a certain grittiness to the film that keeps it from falling firmly into warm and fuzzy territory, but it teeters on the edge of that description. Even the obnoxious characters have endearing qualities, and it’s plain that affection runs deep in this family despite problems that arise. If anything, the conflicts may manifest themselves too seldom, making the movie seem to meander along in no particular direction at times. But for the most part, Nothing Like the Holidays is actually quite like the kind of holidays most families would like to have.

Kidman and McGregor Make Magic in Moulin Rouge

I am a great fan of musicals, so when I heard about the movie Moulin Rouge, I was intrigued, particularly since the musical has gone out of fashion even where it is most expected; Disney’s recent lack of musical numbers, particularly sung by a film’s characters, has been most disheartening. But Moulin Rouge went on my long list of films-to-see-in-the-theater whose contents generally are shifted to films-to-see-on-video, the latter of which has grown to an unwieldy length, and defiant loyalty compelled me to be annoyed with the movie when it swiped two Oscars from Fellowship of the Ring. But a hearty recommendation from a couple friends of mine and an assurance that I would finally get to hear Ewan McGregor’s fabled brogue renewed my interest, so when my brother fell in love with the soundtrack last week, I was happy – until I discovered a hearty dislike for the songs he chose to play in mass repetition, particularly Because We Can. So when his infatuation with the soundtrack naturally led to a movie rental, I was a bit leery.

I have come to the conclusion that generally speaking, I am a Bear of Very Little Brain who prefers her movies straightforward and able to be taken at face value. An overarching sense of serenity doesn’t hurt either. So I perceived the first twenty or so minutes of Moulin Rouge as an assault on my senses, complete with wildly flashing images and a series of frantically energetic songs equally conducive to epileptic shock. The headache these opening scenes gave me was not encouraging, but I noted with some satisfaction that Christian’s (Ewan McGregor) face during this portion of the movie registered a series of contortions alternating among bewilderment, awe and nausea. Ultimately, it was this idealistic young writer who allowed me to fall in love with the movie despite my reservations. Moulin Rouge is his story, one which we understand by the broken state in which we find him at the beginning has taken a great toll on him. My brother commented that it’s never good when a movie starts out depressing and then goes into a flashback. But this movie careens so madly between quiet, gut-wrenching tragedy and joyfully choreographed chaos that the audience often forgets the haunting, inversely prophetic image of Christian, a year after the main events of the film, sitting at his typewriter in obvious anguish. Though he remains throughout the movie as a device to move along the narration, he is easy to overlook once another flashy dance number begins.

McGregor’s earnest performance as the lovestruck naif charmed me immediately. His face is marvelously expressive, but I most enjoyed the glorious smiles he so generously bestowed upon the audience. With the all too serious Obi-Wan Kenobi as my primary McGregor reference point, I was startled by his dashing exuberance. While his gleaming teeth and boyish dimples brilliantly conveyed his joy, it was the task of his eyes to carry the weight of his most grueling scenes. Add to that the worth-the-wait Scottish accent and a smoothly satisfying singing voice, and you have a most laudable lead in Ewan McGregor.

But before I get accused of dissolving into fangirlishness – an embarrassment I only intend to allow myself when referring to Clay Aiken and Billy Boyd – let me hastily add that Nicole Kidman is equally impressive. I tend to get far less excited about actresses than actors, but I am perfectly willing to concede that Kidman is one of the loveliest and most talented actresses in films today. My first impression of her in the much-maligned Far and Away has been confirmed with each new role I see her in. As Satine, a performer at the Moulin Rouge who dreams of true stardom, she exudes cool confidence on the stage but lapses into vulnerability when Christian allows her to experience love for the first time. Her overly sensual antics towards the beginning of the film were a bit of a turn-off for me - though I had to admit her double-entendre-laced Tevye-and-Lazar Wolf-style scene with Christian was pretty entertaining - but when she displayed her true feelings she was a very appealing and sympathetic character. I was also impressed by her singing voice, especially during her wispy inner monologues and spirited duets with Christian. Its tone was very pleasing and seemed a bit of a throwback to a WWII-era singing style. It also reminded me a lot of Helen Reddy's voice in Pete's Dragon.

The acting all around was solid, with particularly noteworthy performances by Jim Broadbent, Richard Roxburgh and John Leguizamo. Broadbent portrays Harold Zidler, the nightclub owner who is by turns jolly and sinister but consistently over-the-top. His is a broadly comic role, and we get the impression he is constantly trying to keep things under control but never quite succeeding. His absurd performance of Like a Virgin with the Duke (Roxburgh) is a comedic highlight. Zidler comes across as a decent if slightly unscrupulous fellow. The Duke, meanwhile, is the most villainous character in the film, yet his ridiculous false teeth, pointy mustache, bad comb-over and irritating accent make him as laughable as he is creepy. And though we never want Satine to wind up with him, it’s hard not to feel a little sorry for this scorned wooer. The petrified facial expressions he offers in response to a number of musical assaults are hilarious. Leguizamo takes on the role of the Bohemian Henri Toulouse Lautrec with great gusto. He’s a wacky character whose cheeriness and romanticism make him especially likable. The role proved an unusual challenge for Leguizamo, as he had to present the appearance of being less than five feet tall.

Moulin Rouge is a musical, but it is unusual in that most of its music is derived from other sources. The film pays tribute to dozens of films with both the music used and the way certain scenes are staged. I must admit to not being crazy about most of the louder, flashier numbers, though they are very well done. Generally, the more elaborate the choreography and the more people are involved, the sillier the song is. The number in which Christian, Zidler, Satine and the Bohemians pitch their play to the Duke is incredibly complex and quite amusing. I enjoyed hearing the film’s take on Your Song and several other classics, but I found the most powerful performance to be the final reprise of Come What May, the song Christian and Satine create to pledge their love to one another. The scene that accompanies it heightens all of the emotions that have been building throughout the rest of the film, ending in a sublime moment of triumph.

I’m all for happy endings, so there’s a part of me that says I would have preferred that Moulin Rouge drop the “tragi” in tragi-comic. As bright and boisterous as the film gets, it cannot escape the other half of its description. However, it’s the quieter, more honest scenes, many of which are associated with the darker side of the film, that I usually enjoyed the most, so I won’t complain that the film went on just a bit longer than was needed to give me the finale I was hoping for. Moulin Rouge is a unique film, and it takes some getting used to. I wouldn’t even necessarily trust your first viewing to give you your final opinion of it. Stick with it, and if you’re spending an inordinate amount of time scratching your head, watch it once again, with the commentary if you’ve got it. It’s worth the extra effort.