Day 256: Thor: The Dark World

"Well done, you just decapitated your grandfather."

If I have to be the one to say it, then so be it. I have Marvel movie fatigue. I've enjoyed almost all of the Marvel Studios films so far, but I haven't honestly loved any of them, and with them coming fast and furious these days (this is the second of four to be released in a 15 month period), I'm just finding it harder and harder to get really jazzed about them anymore. It also doesn't help that I found 2011's Thor to be a perfectly serviceable, sometimes funny, sometimes lethargic exercise in superhero filmmaking. I wouldn't call my desire to see the sequel Thor: The Dark World anything even close to excitement, and honestly if my seven year old daughter Clementine hadn't suggested seeing it, I might have just waited for the dvd. So was I right or was I foolish to be unenthusiastic about this latest entry from Marvel Studios? Read on to find out...

Thor: The Dark World is essentially a dual sequel to both Thor and The Avengers which really couldn't be avoided since Thor (Chris Hemsworth) factored so heavily into the victory over his half-brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) in the latter film, and their contentious relationship had been set-up in the former. Therefore, the myriad issues that need resolving in this film come from both of its predecessors. This is ostensibly a stand-alone entry in the ongoing saga of Thor, the would-be ruler of Asgard, and it feels more like that then another long slog through set-up for The Avengers sequel due in 18 months, mainly because its otherworldly setting gets it away from the more earthbound concerns of The Avengers.

A race of dark elves led by Malekith (Christopher Eccleston) once attempted to use an evil element called the aether that could plunge the nine realms of Asgard into darkness. After their defeat at the hands of Thor's grandfather some 5000 years ago, they went into some sort of hibernation, waiting for the next alignment of the nine realms to once more attempt to take control of the aether and carry out their plan. We certainly wouldn't get that sort of set-up if the present weren't the time when this attempt would be made, but a wrinkle develops in the dark elves' plan when Jane Foster (Natalie Portman), Thor's earthly love interest from the first film, gets possessed by the aether. Thor brings Jane back to Asgard, and as the dark elves arise from their slumber and seek the aether, he must formulate a plan to protect the woman he loves and his homeland from destruction. 

As convoluted as the plot sounds, it's surprisingly easy to follow, as are all of the Marvel films. They dabble in seemingly complicated plots, but they're truly geared towards being easily understood by the lowest common denominator. That's not a knock, it's been the stock in trade of comic books from their infancy, it's just so hard to sum up the plot of these kinds of films after the fact, even though they were simple to follow while you're watching. If it weren't for the film's use of two of the most hackneyed plot devices in all of science fiction filmmaking (elemental substance that can cause destruction and a cosmic alignment of the planets), I might go so far as to say that I actually loved Thor: The Dark World. As it stands however, I legitimately enjoyed it while I was watching it, but could honestly care less about it now that it's over. 

And that's my biggest problem with these films in general, they're ultimately disposable. With the possible exception of Jon Favreau's Iron Man, none of these films has really felt like a fully contained, self-sufficient and wholly satisfying story. Everything now is just a stop along the way, and you begin to feel like a passenger on a never-ending bus trip after a while. It just sort of becomes tedious when the films introduce these world threatening plots that you just know are going to be resolved by the time the film is over because we've got to get to the next stop on our route. It's slowly becoming a slog through the Marvel universe, and maybe I'm just being cranky, but I wish there wasn't this forceful push to have the film introduce entire plot lines and villains, as well as some element that plays into the larger whole, and then dispose of them by the end of the film because all the loose ends need to be tied up by the time the Marvel logo rolls on the next film. 

I feel bad in a way saying all this, because there's a lot of really great stuff in Thor: The Dark World. The humor woven through the film is fantastic, and the final battle sequence that bends physics and has characters literally jumping through time and space to attack one another is the most fantastic action sequence in this entire cinematic universe to date. Also, the funeral sequence for a fairly major character that occurs right around the midway point of the film is gorgeously shot and incredibly moving. These two moments, taken alone, might be my favorite of any that Marvel Studios has produced. 

The cast is very strong, as to be expected, with Hemsworth and Hiddleston being an absolute delight to watch sparring with one another. Their relationship is the true emotional core of these films and makes the ridiculous attempts to insert Jane Foster into the narrative all the more distracting as a result. Portman isn't bad per se, she's just playing as one-dimensional a character as she did in the awful Star Wars prequels, and isn't a good enough actress to transcend the weak material she's given. Hemsworth and Hiddleston however shine throughout, and the rumors of last minute reshoots to insert more of Hiddleston into the film were well worth the time and effort as he remains the most compelling character in any of these films. 

The rest of the supporting cast is fine, if underused. The attempts to work everyone in and give them all something to do are a bit distracting, but I will say that I genuinely enjoyed what Rene Russo did with her expanded role as Thor and Loki's mother Frigga. The film's director Alan Taylor brings a visual inventiveness to the film that previous director Kenneth Branagh just wasn't really capable of, and the film is that much better as a result. I genuinely enjoyed the look of the film, and it felt like a standalone film being forced to play by the rules of an established universe. I admire everything he did and tip my cap to him for refusing to take part in the nonsensical mid-credits scene that I absolutely abhorred. 

I'm really of two minds about Thor: The Dark World. The child in me is ecstatic that this character has finally gotten a cinematic epic worthy of his epic nature from the comics. On the other hand, the film geek in me is exhausted by Marvel's continued insistence that everything be connected and linked and set up and paid off and all by the end of the film. It's become exhausting, and I just can't get excited about any of their upcoming slate with the notable exception of 2015's Ant-Man, mainly due to director Edgar Wright's participation. Granted, Marvel's not the utter train wreck that DC has turned into when it comes to their films, but their tack of sucking as much personality from these films as possible to ensure that they're all a part of a larger whole is getting wearisome. I'll end up seeing Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and Guardians of the Galaxy, and The Avengers: Age of Ultron, but I honestly couldn't give a shit about any of them right now. I can pretty much tell you exactly what they're going to be… bland and ultimately forgettable. 

[Images via BoxOfficeMojo]

Top 5: Disney Princess Films

This week marks the release of Disney Animation Studio's 53rd feature length animated film Frozen, and as the film features 2 new princesses to add to the growing list of Disney royalty, I thought it would be a good time to look back at my favorite Disney Princess films. To date there have been ten, if you don't count Brave-- which is technically a Pixar film, so I'm not including it here-- and I thought at first about potentially ranking the Princesses themselves, but have decided instead to rank the films in which they appear. Therefore, a princess like Mulan who I think is a phenomenal model of what a princess should be, doesn't quite crack the top five because I find the film around her to be lackluster. As a dad to two little girls, you can be sure that I've hashed out this argument a handful of times already. Hit the break for a quick rundown of 6-10 and then a more detailed countdown of my top five Disney Princess Films. 

10. Cinderella (1950)
9. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
8. Aladdin (1992)
7. Mulan (1998)
6. Pocahontas (1995)

5. The Little Mermaid (1989)

Arguably the smartest and boldest move that Disney made when they redoubled their animation efforts just prior to the 1990s was hiring the songwriting team of Alan Menken and Howard Ashman. The two had created the Off-Broadway smash Little Shop of Horrors, and were just what the studio needed to usher in this new era of the animated musical. Their first effort together was 1989's The Little Mermaid, a film that was just re-released on dvd and blu-ray in a gorgeous new high definition transfer. Incredibly loosely based on Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale of the same name, The Little Mermaid gave us a different kind of Disney Princess in Ariel, one who longed for more from life than just going about her routine, and her insatiable curiosity pays off, only after she makes a bargain with the evil sea queen Ursula. While it's not as wholly satisfying as the best of Disney's output from that era, it's still got some fantastic songs, great comic relief and makes for a thoroughly entertaining film that succeeds for both kids and kids at heart.

4. Tangled (2010)

While it wasn't Disney's first foray into cg animation, Tangled certainly remains their best, combining classic Disney charm with an irreverently sardonic edge. Rapunzel is another princess in the vein of Ariel who at first longs for something more than the confinement of her tower, but then takes charge of her own destiny when she finds true love in the form of Flynn Ryder. The film's songs by Alan Menken and Glenn Slater are among the best in any Disney film, particularly Oscar nominated duet "I See The Light." The film's sense of spectacle is also second to none, featuring some of the sharpest, most gorgeously rendered animation that's ever been put on film, and the conceit of having the animals in the film be unable to talk works to the filmmakers advantage as it yields some of the best physical comedy in the history of the studio. Tangled showed that a Disney Princess film didn't mean it was exclusively made for little girls.

3. The Princess and the Frog (2009)

By far my favorite of the post-millennial Disney animated films is 2009's The Princess and the Frog. The film was a return to the hand drawn animation days of Disney's golden age, and proved that the spirit of the hand drawn musical spectaculars of the 90s wasn't dead and buried. Though they've only done one hand drawn film since (2011's fantastically underrated Winnie the Pooh) The Princess and the Frog feels like it could have sprung out entirely in its current form back in the 90s. The film also gives us my second favorite Disney Princess in Tiana, a strong-willed, hard working woman who has a can-do attitude and doesn't rely on a prince to make her feel like a complete person. The film's soundtrack and songs by Randy Newman are probably my favorite of any Disney film, and the opulent New Orleans set animation is among the finest work ever done by the animators at Disney. This is the kind of film I wish they were making more of, and I hold out hope that The Princess and the Frog will one day be recognized as the masterpiece that it truly is.

2. Sleeping Beauty (1959)

The second Disney film done in an anamorphic widescreen ratio, and the first photographed in 70mm, remains among the greatest all-time animated films, 1959's Sleeping Beauty. The story of Princess Aurora and the curse placed on her at her birth by the evil Maleficent (still the greatest Disney villain ever) remains among the most beloved animated films for a reason. It's story is simple and effective, and the animation is eye-poppingly gorgeous. While Aurora herself amounts to nothing more than a spectator in her own eponymous story, the trio of good fairies that protect her provide enough pathos for the audience to latch on to, and the film's score is a delight for the ears. With the upcoming release of a live-action film based around Maleficent due next year, it's obvious where the story's true appeal lies, but there's no denying that this is the absolute height of what Walt Disney and his animators achieved in his lifetime.

1. Beauty and the Beast (1991)

The first animated film ever nominated for the Best Picture Academy Award still dazzles today, and it should come as no surprise that the film Beauty and the Beast also features my favorite Disney princess by a mile, Belle. Belle is the sort of literate, open-minded, good hearted person that any little girl can aspire to. She doesn't seek her validation from those around her or rush into a forced relationship with an overbearing bag of douche like Gaston. She seeks her own path, and keeps the well-being of her father foremost among her priorities. Arguments can, and probably should, be mounted about Belle's severe case of Stockholm Syndrome, but being an animated film, her arc can't run much longer than the ninety minute running time, so we can just assume that most of the "falling in love" happened off-camera. While the film itself is not my favorite telling of this tale (that would be Jean Cocteau's 1946 French version La Belle et la Bete) this one manages to score thanks to its beautiful hand drawn animation and winning score and songs, once again by Menken and Ashman. Beauty and the Beast remains the gold standard among the modern Disney classics, and it's a wonderful film worth revisiting again and again.

[Images via 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]

Top 5: Spike Lee Joints

With this week's release of the American remake of Oldboy, I decided to take a look back at the career of the film's director Spike Lee.  Lee has had one of the more interesting careers in Hollywood, and his prolific nature has virtually ensured that if you're not a fan of his most recent film, he'll have another one out soon enough. Having started off directing some of the most incendiary films of the late 80s and early 90s, he's now moved into a career balancing personal pictures (Red Hook Summer, Miracle at St. Anna) with director-for-hire work (Inside Man) and documentary work (When the Levees Broke). While I'm certainly not a fan of all of his films-- I could live the rest of my life and never give another thought to She Hate Me or Girl 6-- he's made some undeniably great ones. Here's my list of his top five films.

5. Bamboozled (2000)

Structurally, the film is a bit all over the map, but 2000's Bamboozled might be Lee's most incendiary film. Set in the early days of reality television, days when it seemed nothing was off-limits, a television producer (Damon Wayans) pitches a modern day minstrel show to be performed in traditional blackface. The show's stars Savion Glover & Tommy Davidson are reluctant at first to participate, but also need the work, and the devastating toll that the show takes on them forms the film's emotional core. There are some fantastic supporting performances by Mos Def, Paul Mooney & Michael Rapaport (playing a character that is Lee's most direct attack on Quentin Tarantino ever), and while the film's climax takes things a shade over the top, this is still essential viewing. Every year when some stupid quasi-celebrity or meathead athlete shows up for some function in blackface, I think of the final moments of this film, and it reminds me of what a horrendous legacy was left behind by the days when blackface was considered entertainment.

4. Summer of Sam (1999)

1999 was a year that found many directors (David Fincher, P.T. Anderson, Spike Jonze, The Wachowskis) unleashing a torrent of visually stylistic masterpieces on the world, and I wouldn't hesitate for a moment to put Spike Lee's Summer of Sam comfortably in their company. It's a fictional story set in the all-too real summer of 1977 when New York City was held hostage by The Son of Sam serial killer. While I think it may be a case of style over substance as some of the subplots could have been jettisoned without losing much from the overall story, it's one of Lee's most assured directorial efforts, and his use of music is never better than it is in this film. The centerpiece montage set to The Who's "Baba O'Riley" is still amongst my favorite uses of a song in a film, and the supporting cast featuring Adrien Brody, Ben Gazarra, Michael Rispoli & Patti LuPone is one of the best Lee has ever assembled.

3. Malcolm X (1992)

The word epic doesn't quite cover 1992's Malcolm X. Denzel Washington gives hands down the best performance of his career in a film that spans the rise and tragic demise of one of the great warriors in the battle to secure equal rights for black Americans. While many fans of the film may rank this one higher than I have, I admit that I've only seen it from beginning to end maybe twice, but I find myself re-watching a handful of scenes from the film over and over again, particularly Malcolm's trip to The Audobon Ballroom, where he would be assassinated, set to Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come." It's probably the single greatest scene Lee has ever put on film. And as for Washington's performance, it's electrifying and connected in a way that he hasn't been since, and it honestly feels like a performance he's been trying to recapture for most of his career.

2. 25th Hour (2002)

After 9/11, the world waited to see how New York based filmmakers would handle the tragedy and its aftermath, and Spike Lee rose to the occasion to deliver the quintessential film about post-9/11 New York City. 25th Hour is ostensibly a film about a drug dealer (Edward Norton) enjoying his last 24 hours of freedom before shipping off to prison for seven years, but at its core, the film is more about the dual love/hate relationship he has with himself, his friends, and most importantly his city. The city has never felt more isolated than it does in this meditation on masculinity, yet it also feels stronger and more assured than it has in decades. If Summer of Sam was about a city overreacting to numerous catastrophic events, 25th Hour is about a city that emerged from the other side of an enormous catastrophe more resolved and more unified than ever, despite its countless differences. It's also almost worth watching just for Brian Cox's final monologue as he drives his son to prison, and the montage that accompanies it. It radiates with a power that can only be delivered by a filmmaker in complete control of his craft.

1. Do The Right Thing (1989)

In 1989, on just his third narrative feature, Spike Lee managed to create the quintessential film about race relations in America. Do The Right Thing is the rare film that achieves the monumental task of presenting a multitude of characters on both sides of the issue without demonizing any of them. Set in and around the fictional Sal's Pizzeria in Brooklyn, Lee weaves a tapestry of characters from Radio Raheem (Bill Nunn) the black man whose death at the hands of the cops sets a riot in motion, to Sal (Danny Aiello) the pizza shop owner and his openly racist son Pino (John Turturro), to Mookie (Lee) the black pizza delivery guy who works for Sal, and dozens of other characters in between. It gives open and equal air to almost everyone, and presents the issue of race as more than black and white, but a series of murky greys that yields no easy answers. Lee's use of music is second to none once again, using Public Enemy's "Fight the Power" as the anthem of the riot that ends the film, but also as a cry of desperation for a series of characters that will never be the same again. Some 24 years after its release, Do the Right Thing still burns with an intensity that Lee has yet to match on film, and it will likely remain his masterpiece.

Honorable Mention: Clockers & 4 Little Girls

[Photos via 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]

Day 255: The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

"From now on, your job is to be a distraction, so people forget what the real problems are."

A couple of things to get out of the way before I start this review. One, I haven't read any of Suzanne Collins' books on which the films are based. Two, I rather enjoyed the first film The Hunger Games, despite director Gary Ross' affinity for shaking the camera during virtually every frame of the film. And three, against my better judgment I decided to go see the sequel Catching Fire on the day it opened, in spite of the fact that I knew the theater would be packed and there would be at least two sets of people in the audience that would annoy the shit out of me (both of these premonitions were correct). Having said all that, here's what else I can tell you. The Hunger Games: Catching Fire is the best genre sequel since The Dark Knight, and it's the one of the most batshit bananas blockbusters I've ever seen. 

After the events of the 74th Hunger Games, survivors Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) and Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) return to their home in District 12 before embarking on their victory tour. Katniss is haunted by the memories of what she did to survive the first game, and is having trouble maintaining the facade that she's in love with Peeta when her heart clearly belongs to Gale (Liam Hemsworth, who has the largest mouth I've ever seen on a human being). Katniss has bigger problems, however, because President Snow (Donald Sutherland) isn't happy with the fact that she has become a symbol of rebellion to the residents of the various other Districts. He wants her to sell herself as a product of the Capitol by threatening the lives of those she cherishes most.

The problem is, the uprising has already begun, in spite of Katniss' best efforts to play along. Snow charges new Hunger Games designer Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman) to devise a plan to force her into submission and crush the uprising before it begins. The plan they devise is that this year's 75th Hunger Games will feature a pool of participants culled from past victors of the games. And since the only other male survivor in District 12 is the drunk & unreliable Haymitch Abernathy (Woody Harrelson), Katniss & Peeta find themselves back in the thick of another fight for their lives.

What Catching Fire does so well is it builds on everything set up in the first film and improves it in every way possible. It is unfortunately the middle portion of a trilogy, meaning that it's almost all rising action and no climax, but it serves that purpose incredibly well. It builds and builds, raising the stakes, and while its ending is likely to feel like a total anti-climax to some (including the chatty teenager and her even chattier mother sitting behind me), it works like gangbusters in service of a story that's clearly just getting warmed up.

I was worried when the trailers first started popping up for this and it looked to an outsider like myself to be another "more of the same" sequel, I was overjoyed to find out that I was mistaken. While it almost purposefully borrows the same structure as the first film, it plays on the audience's familiarity with that plot by subverting your expectations and keeping you guessing the entire time. It's the kind of film that keeps you right where it wants you, thinking that you know what's coming and then shocking you when something different happens. It's a truly fantastic sequel in that regard, and the kind of subversion of form that I wish more storytellers embraced.

When the film finally gets to the 75th Hunger Games, all manner of crazy shit happens that I never expected in a relatively mainstream film. From killer fog and bloody rain to vicious baboons and birds that torment people by impersonating their loved ones, it's all so insane that it has to be seen to be believed. Thankfully new director Francis Lawrence has dispensed with the epileptic camerawork of the first film and given the games a much calmer look that aids the insanity going on in every frame. It's comforting to watch more classic compositions when it's in the service of showing just how bonkers everything going on truly is.

The film's biggest asset by a mile, however, is its cast. Lawrence is without a doubt the best actress in her age range currently working. There really is nothing she cannot do, and I just loved the hell out of her in this film. She manages to win the audience's pathos with little effort, and it's undeniable that Gary Ross' single greatest contribution to these films was casting her in the first place. It's the supporting cast that sells the whole endeavor, employing fantastic character actors like Sutherland, Hoffman and Harrelson and supplementing it with a bonkers Elizabeth Banks as Effie Trinket, a seriously underused Lenny Kravitz, and of course Stanley Tucci, primping and preening all over the place like a purebred poodle at a dog show.

The new additions to the cast are fantastic as well, particularly Jeffrey Wright and Amanda Plummer as two of the more eccentric former tributes. Jena Malone and Sam Claflin are also great as the two most prominently featured former tributes. Hemsworth and Hutcherson are perfectly serviceable in their roles, though the love triangle they're involved in with Lawrence seems woefully underdeveloped and at times feels like clumsy attempts at fan service. The story could've been just as great without this forced romantic subplot, and I credit screenwriters Simon Beaufoy & Michael Arndt (using the name Michael deBruyn for some reason) for jettisoning enough of it to keep the focus firmly on the revolution plot.

I may regret this statement and it may read as heresy to some of you, but Catching Fire is every bit as good as The Empire Strikes Back. It's a faithful and epic second act that finds our characters at their lowest point imaginable and keeps their fates hanging in the balance until the story's resolution. While the studio smelled nothing but money and decided to split the third book into two films, thereby rendering this the unofficial middle of this trilogy, it doesn't lessen this film's impact as a great and true second act of a trilogy. I am now excited to see where this story and these films are headed and I cannot wait for the next film. Do yourself a favor and even if you weren't crazy about the first film, go see Catching Fire. It's everything you could've hoped it would be and more. 

[Photos via BoxOfficeMojo]

Spotlight: The Career of Bruce Dern (And Why You Shouldn't Write Off Any Actor Until They're Dead)

This week I saw Alexander Payne's latest film Nebraska, and it got me thinking about a lot of things. First of all, a lot of people my age, and certainly younger than I, aren't really familiar with Dern's long career as an actor, and this column will seek to rectify that by recommending several films in which the actor proved why he was one of the premier character actors of the 1970s. It also stirred up a lot of thoughts surrounding the notion that an actor's career is truly never over until they're no longer able to make films for one reason or another, most notably their death. Until I heard that Dern was going to be starring in Nebraska, I hadn't thought much about what he might be up to, and I certainly never thought he was capable of once more being the subject of awards recognition, and how many other actors have faced a similar paradox. As Yogi Berra once put it so succinctly, "it ain't over 'til it's over."

Bruce Dern started his career, like so many great character actors of the time, by doing journeyman work in television. Beginning in 1960, Dern appeared in no fewer than 30 different big name programs of the day such as The Outer Limits, The Fugitive, and Gunsmoke. After snagging bit parts in a handful of westerns, his first big break came with a featured role in Sydney Pollack's Oscar-winning 1969 film They Shoot Horses, Don't They? It was his work with Bob Rafelson & Bert Schneider's BBS Productions that brought him the two best roles of his early film career in Jack Nicholson's directorial debut Drive, He Said and then opposite Nicholson in Rafelson's The King of Marvin Gardens (both of which, incidentally, are available in Criterion's fantastic boxed set America: Lost & Found, The BBS Story).

Dern proved that he was an electric screen presence, not content to play it safe, and he had an edge to him that was hard to fake. Like my favorite character actor of all time, Robert Mitchum, Dern had a danger to him when you watched him work, and you could tell he had the life experience to back it up. The 70s were Dern's crowning achievement as an actor, turning in memorable performances such as playing Tom Buchanan in the otherwise lackluster adaptation of The Great Gatsby, and as an astronaut in visual effects maestro Douglas Trumbull's directorial debut Silent Running.

His best work of the decade would come in two very different films, first as pageant director "Big Bob" Freelander in Michael Ritchie's essential comedic skewering of the pageant world Smile, a film I can't help but watch from beginning to end anytime I catch it on tv. Then came the crowning achievement of his work to that point, his Oscar-nominated performance in Hal Ashby's Best Picture nominee Coming Home. His work as the cuckolded Vietnam veteran Bob Hyde was overshadowed by his Oscar winning co-stars Jon Voight and Jane Fonda, but Dern shows tremendous range and angst in what could have easily been a throwaway default antagonist role.

The 80s and 90s were a bit of a wilderness period for Dern, as his brand of character actor became obsolete in an era of safe, sanitized Hollywood films. There were two notable exceptions, the first being his turn as Ton Hanks' deranged neighbor in Joe Dante's highly underrated 1989 black comedy The 'Burbs. The second was as the crooked sheriff in Last Man Standing, Walter Hill's inessential re-telling of Kurosawa's Yojimbo. For the most part however, he was underutilized at best, despite working consistently, mostly in bit parts.

The 2000s were a bit kinder to Dern, seeing him taking on more memorable roles in films like All The Pretty Horses and Monster, as well as the HBO series Big Love, though none of those seemed to offer him anything more than a role to honor his stature as a statesman for character actors everywhere. When he turned up in last year's Django Unchained, as the slave master who ordered Django's cheek be branded with a "runaway r", it seemed more like a favor to Dern than the kind of meaty role Tarantino was throwing the way of great 70s actors like Robert Forster & David Carradine. Then came a godsend in the form of Alexander Payne's perpetually in development film Nebraska, a role that had always been intended for Dern.

Dern's performance is amazingly strong and as good as any lead male performance this year, but he faces a predicament not unlike another distinguished older actor from several years ago, Peter O'Toole. In 2006, O'Toole was nominated for his strong but understated work in Venus, but lost to the much flashier but no less powerful Forest Whitaker in The Last King of Scotland. O'Toole had been given an Honorary Oscar for his entire career in 2003-- an honor he initially turned down in hopes he would "win the little bugger outright," which alas will never happened now that he's officially retired from acting-- but his eight career nominations and zero wins speaks to a larger problem in the Academy. There are far too many politics involved in the voting, and he lost his first go around in 1962 for Lawrence of Arabia since everyone naturally figured he'd have another shot at one in the future. He lost to his contemporaries such as Cliff Robertson and Ben Kingsley at future ceremonies, but his loss to John Wayne in 1969 points directly at this problem. The Academy gave Wayne the Oscar because he was a statesman of the profession, and not because his work in True Grit was better than O'Toole's in Goodbye Mr. Chips and especially Dustin Hoffman or Jon Voight from Midnight Cowboy, but he won because he was due.

This feeling pervaded the Academy for many years, bestowing Oscars upon James Coburn for Affliction, Al Pacino for Scent of a Woman, and countless others simply because they hadn't been recognized yet. This honor eluded such performances as Burt Reynolds in Boogie Nights and Albert Finney in Erin Brockovich, but those days are all but gone now. Therefore it seems that Dern will likely be consigned to also-ran status when he loses to the flashier work of Chiwetel Ejiofor or Matthew McConaughey (both of whom are fantastic and deserving, but have much showier roles than Dern's). If the 2008 Best Actor race taught us anything, it's that the Academy favors flash (Sean Penn in Milk) over subtlety (Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler).

The most heartening thing about this year's Best Actor race, however, is that it prominently features two names that most thought would never be in an Oscar race again. In addition to Dern, a lot of talk has been swirling around Robert Redford's solo performance in JC Chandor's All is Lost. This performance is even further out of field than Dern's because Redford, despite a Best Actor nomination 40 years ago for The Sting and a directing Oscar for 1980's Ordinary People, never really ranks among actors that people talk about with great reverence. Redford is certainly an ambassador for the profession and his Sundance Film Festival has had an undeniable impact on the world of independent filmmaking, but he's not exactly someone that people mention as being a great actor. He's a great movie star, that much is not up for debate, but his acting abilities have never really been all that revered or talked about.

However here are Redford and Dern, both 77 years of age, and both in the middle of their first Oscar race in decades (which, as my friend Meagan astutely pointed out, is a revival of their Gatsby/Tom Buchanan rivalry). History says that neither man is likely to win, but it's important that we not forget about actors like Dern and Redford because as long as they're alive and making movies, they can surprise us and work their way back into the Oscar race at any moment. I hate to say we shouldn't write off any actor until they're dead, but it's true (and James Gandolfini's buzz in this year's Supporting Actor race shows that maybe even death isn't enough to discount an actor's chances at awards season glory). If nothing else, I'm happy that people are talking about Bruce Dern again, and maybe seeking out his early work because he is a fantastic actor that demands your attention.

[Images via 1, 2, 3, 4, 5]

Day 254: Nebraska

"David, these plants need water. They're plants."

Alexander Payne started his career off with three films (Citizen Ruth, Election, About Schmidt) at least partially set in his home state of Nebraska. After diversions to California's wine country (Sideways) and Hawaii (The Descendants), Payne is back on familiar ground with his sixth feature, Nebraska. Payne's detractors accuse him of portraying the Midwest nothing more than a barren haven for rubes, while his most ardent fans see the verisimilitude with which he portrays a territory for which he has a deep, abiding love. So which camp does Nebraska fall into? Read on to find out...

We're introduced to our main character Woody Grant (Bruce Dern) wandering aimlessly on the side of the road near his home in Billings, Montana. A police officer stops him to ask where he's going and he silently gestures ahead of himself. When asked where he's coming from, he flicks his thumb in the other direction. When Woody's son David (Will Forte) picks him up at the police station, and asks where he was headed, Woody shows him a letter he received in the mail that informs him that he may have won a million dollars, and he's heading to Lincoln, Nebraska to claim his prize. David informs his dad that it's a scam to get him to buy magazines and he needs to let it go, but for the next several days, Woody heads off on foot until someone intercepts him and tries to level with him that there is no million dollar prize awaiting him in Nebraska.

David's brother Ross (Bob Odenkirk) and mother Kate (June Squibb) refuse to indulge Woody's fantasies, but David finally acquiesces and agrees to take his dad to Nebraska, even though he knows it's all a sham. David is basically trying to make the best of a bad situation and spend some quality time with a dad who was distant at best, in hopes of maybe helping him to get past this delusion and move on with his life. A pitstop in Woody's hometown of Hawthorne, Nebraska however brings all manner of crooked family members and old business associates out of the woodwork once word gets out that Woody is heading south to collect some money.   

Shot in cold and remorseless black and white, Nebraska is a return to form for Payne, whose diversions west I wasn't a big fan of. While those films had their moments, they felt a bit like the work of a filmmaker somewhat out of his element. Nebraska allows Payne to indulge in the bleak and black Midwestern comedy for which he first made a name for himself. Woody Grant is a character that sees the world in much the same way as it's presented here, and the shades of grey which permeate the film elevate the entire endeavor into something of a minor miracle. What seems like it's going to be a long slog through the flatter portions of this country becomes an, at times, uproarious comedy for those wiling to recognize what it sets out to do.

The film itself gets trapped in the small town of Hawthorne in the way that many people do in such towns all over this country, and it's a magnificent film when it just sort of explores the banal world of small town folks and their relationships to one another. While the film never stoops to outright mockery of small town life, it presents it in a way that will seem foreign to those who've never known of such a way of life, and thankfully never goes for laughs at the expense of any of these people. It's the kind of film that shoots from the hip and shows these small town dynamics for what they are… outright strange. It's a delicate balance that's maintained by Bob Nelson's fantastic script, which has no shortage of empathy for its characters.

As for those characters, Bruce Dern gives a phenomenal performance as Woody, infusing him with so much humanity, you'll wonder why no one else is utilizing his talents in this way. Dern has the salt of the earth type down pat, and the way he delivers his one or two word retorts and answers to questions is nothing short of brilliant. Forte is outstanding as well in a way I never expected. Anyone who's seen his work on SNL or with Tim & Eric will know that his characters often have an incredible anger boiling beneath the surface, and Payne exploits that to tremendous effect. June Squibb is also fantastic as Woody's long suffering wife, who proves to be quite the firecracker herself. She gets many of the film's biggest laughs with her wonderfully incongruous lines. 

The film's cinematography by Phedon Papamichael is gorgeous in its sameness and truly aids the story in the best way possible. The score by Mark Orton is sublimely simple, utilizing folksy sounding music that can be both comedic or poignant depending upon the context in which it is used. And I truly cannot say enough good things about Alexander Payne's work here as a director. This is the first film he's directed for which he didn't have a hand in the script writing, and it's focused his work in such a way that he's never been better. The film's stark look is aided by his often comedic compositions, and he understands comedy on a much deeper level than most directors working in the genre today.

Nebraska is a small film with a leisurely pace, but it's as affecting and honest as anything you'll see this year. Bruce Dern gives what might be the performance of his career, and thankfully it's in the service of a film that rises to meet him at every occasion. I'm glad to have Alexander Payne back home in the Midwest working in a place and style he knows like the back of his hand. The time away has strengthened him as a director, but he's put his skills to great use here, and I feel like he's only going to get better. Nebraska is an immensely charming film that is most assuredly worth seeking out. 

GO Rating: 4.5/5

[Images via BoxOfficeMojo]

Day 253: Parkland

"Everyone ready? You all know what's on here, right? And we're sure you're ready?"

With the fiftieth anniversary of the assassination on President John F. Kennedy just one week away, there has been a crush of films, books, documentaries and television shows surrounding the event. One film in particular, Parkland, got lost in the shuffle when it had an all too brief theatrical run in early October, and that's extremely unfortunate because it's one of the least exploitative looks at the assassination ever made. While most of these seek to deal with the onslaught of conspiracy theories and effect that the assassination had on the country, almost every one, including Oliver Stone's film named after the President himself, have seemingly forgotten the man whose life ended that day. 

Parkland tells several interweaving stories involving various people in Dallas, Texas on November 22, 1963. Abraham Zapruder (Paul Giamatti) was a local businessman who rushed to Dealey Plaza with his 8mm Bell & Howell camera to record a home video of the President's motorcade as it passed. Dr. Jim Carrico (Zac Efron) was a resident at Parkland Memorial Hospital, in the middle of a long shift that seemed as if it would never end. James Hosty (Ron Livingston) was an FBI Agent in Dallas who was potentially sitting on information about a local Dallas man that was a known lunatic by the name of Lee Harvey Oswald (Jeremy Strong). Oswald's brother Robert (James Badge Dale) was a quiet father, holding down a respectable job and relishing his anonymity. Forrest Sorrels (Billy Bob Thornton) was the Secret Service agent in charge of the President's visit to Dallas, and had put the city under, what he thought, were unprecedented security measures to ensure the President's safety. 

A little before 1pm, all of that changed when shots were fired as the President's motorcade passed through Dealey Plaza. Zapruder captures the assassination on film and the President is rushed to Parkland Hospital where his body is met by Dr. Carrico. Lee Oswald is picked up that afternoon after shooting a police officer, and news of his arrest sends Robert into a frenzy to discover how and why his brother may have been involved in the President's death. The Secret Service scramble to protect Vice President Lyndon Johnson (Sean McGraw) from any potential harm that may come to him, and everyone in Dallas is trying to make sense of exactly what happened and why, hoping that Zapruder's film may hold the answers to those questions.

The film is never better than in its first thirty minutes as all of these many characters are introduced in brief but memorable ways, and the film's true genius lies in how easily it brings all of these characters together. The scenes in the hospital as the doctors and nurses try in vain to save President Kennedy's life are among some of the most heart wrenching and intense scenes ever put on film in regard to this event. The various nurses and Secret Service agents stand by helplessly in the room as Carrico and chief resident Dr. Malcolm Perry (Colin Hanks) do all they can to revive him. It's intense and all the more despairing because we know the outcome of their efforts. The ensuing scenes when Kennedy's wife Jacqueline (Kat Steffens) and a priest (Jackie Earle Haley) offering last rites are the most powerful in the entire film, and help the audience to feel the full gravity of what had just transpired.

The film doesn't necessarily lose focus after this, but what follows lacks urgency, simply because we already know that even fifty years later, there were no answers to be had that day. The race to get Zapruder's film developed and seen by the Secret Service makes for a compelling second storyline, and it's fascinating to watch. Thankfully writer/director Peter Landesman is smart enough not to actually show Zapruder's film, which has been played to the point where it has almost lost its impact, and instead chooses to focus on the reactions of the people viewing it for the first time. The scenes involving the FBI office, and James Hosty are also interesting, particularly once Oswald's name comes up as the prime suspect and his superior (Jason Douglas) wants to know why he didn't report the information he had on Oswald. 

It's the film's almost total shift of focus to the Oswald family in the third act that truly weakens the film. Robert Oswald's story, and his devotion to his lunatic mother (Jacki Weaver, going deliriously over-the-top) and even his brother, despite what's being said about him, is interesting in its own way, but make for a far less compelling story than the one concerning the other characters in the film. The scenes are strongly executed and fascinating in their own way, but pale in comparison to the rest of the story. It likely could have made a brilliant film on its own merits, but the tangential connection to the rest of the events (Oswald ends up in the same Parkland Operating Room, after being shot by Jack Ruby, that the President died in just 24 hours earlier) makes it feel like a separate movie at times.

The performances are outstanding all the way around. Giamatti is fantastic as Abraham Zapruder, infusing the character with tremendous pathos. Thornton is always great, and his appearance in this film will make you wish he did more films since he's such a committed presence. The periphery characters like Parkland's head nurse played by Marcia Gay Harden and the secret service agents played by Tom Welling, Mark Duplass and Gil Bellows are equally good and flesh out the world in a very realistic way. Zac Efron surprised me the most of the primary cast members, in that I never expected him to do work of this caliber. I'm sure he's got acting chops that can be exploited in some way, but no one's been able to get a performance this well-rounded out of him before, and I think he will most assuredly surprise you.

James Badge Dale is also very good and grounded, though his subplot is the most superfluous, and gives us the oddest performance in the entire film via Jacki Weaver's Marguerite Oswald. While she may be doing a spot-on impression of the real woman, her voice and mannerisms seem completely out of step with the rest of the film and are truly jarring in context. It's such an odd set of scenes and a truly bizarre character for an otherwise realistic film. This is honestly the only point and plot on which I fault Landesman, who otherwise did a bang-up job for his first directorial effort. 

Parkland is a truly unique film in that it tells a multi-character, multi-story arc in a shade over ninety minutes. It almost feels as if it's over just after it began, and I mean that as high praise. It's the kind of film that isn't made much anymore. It doesn't have an agenda or a list of stylistic flourishes it needs to check off, it's just a tight, intense film told incredibly well by a talented cast. History buffs will enjoy it on an entirely different level, and appreciate it's adherence to the events of the day, but as entertainment, it succeeds in ways I didn't think possible. The film was just released on Blu-Ray and DVD, and I would highly recommend seeking it out as a way of remembering this somber anniversary. 

GO Rating: 4/5

[Images via BoxOfficeMojo]

Day 252: Dallas Buyers Club

"God damn, I like your style Hiroshi."

A few weeks ago I wrote a spotlight about the resurgence of Matthew McConaughey, and how he's "put together a run of films since The Lincoln Lawyer that rivals the best run of any actor over a three year period." His latest film, Dallas Buyers Club, looked like a tremendous opportunity for him to show just how could he could be when combining his talent with a role he seemed born to play. The only question that remained was if the film itself would be good enough to support his performance, so I invite you to read on to find out the answer to that question.

Ron Woodruff (McConaughey) fits every stereotype you can think of when it comes to hard living good old Texas boys in the mid-80s. He's introduced as a hustler, who loves his booze, his drugs and as many women as he can cram into a single evening. When an accident at his day job as an electrician sends him to the hospital, some routine blood work turns up the fact that Ron is HIV positive. In a time when HIV & AIDS were mainly thought of as a disease that only affected homosexuals, Ron continues his hard partying ways, ignorant of the fact that the doctor gave him thirty days to live.

After a week, Ron decides to hustle his way into taking an experimental new drug called AZT that, at its current dosage, is having devastating effects on patients. When he gets wind of radical new drugs that haven't been approved for use in the US, he travels to Mexico and partners with a doctor (Griffin Dunne) to try a new combination of drugs that help him get significantly better. Ever the hustler, Ron travels back across the border with a large supply of drugs, and after forming a tenuous partnership with a fellow AIDS patient named Rayon (Jared Leto) begins a buyers club that offers HIV & AIDS patients drugs that work, despite not being approved for sale in the US.

Because the film is based on a true story, it has a familiar feel to it and hits a lot of the tropes of the uplifting underdog narrative that's been done to death a million times before. It's an interesting story, anchored by two fascinating characters, and if I have any complaints at all about the film, it's that it just doesn't rise to the level at which McConaughey & Leto's performances. It's a bit aimless at times, particularly in a bloated third act that feels at times as if it's never going to end, mainly because there's no real climax to the film. There are a series of half-climaxes and partial builds towards something big, but no major climax materializes, and the film just sort of drifts off into a pseudo-inspring standing ovation that made my skin crawl for how contrived and calculated it was.

That being said the film, particularly in its electric first hour, is quite good. The first twenty minutes or so are a bit heavy handed by setting Ron and his circle of friends up as raging homophobes, but it has a truth to it that most films would shy away from. While he seemingly overcomes his homophobia in one scene about halfway through the movie, he's still an interesting enough character to root for, and his very nature as a fighter makes him a driving force for the narrative. Rayon is a similarly engaging character, and one that seems to be content with irking and provoking Ron more than wanting to change him. It was a nice change of pace for this sort of character that bucks the typical "hooker with a heart of gold" story arc that's been done to death.

The film is also very definitely out to criticize the FDA and, by association, the Reagan administration for its handling of the AIDS crisis in its earliest days. The film puts a human face on this with an unsympathetic doctor (Denis O'Hare) and a heartless FDA crony (Michael O'Neill) who seem intent on keeping dying patients from getting any treatment other than AZT. This is true, and it was chronicled in a fantastic documentary from last year called How to Survive a Plague, but the film's insistence on hammering home their seemingly evil motivations will no doubt fuel talk of the film being anti-government and pro-free market. It's a tightrope walk to begin with, but the film has no problem demonizing these industries.

McConaughey is everything you could have hoped he would be and more, and his performance here is one of the best of his career. He brings an energy and vitality to Ron that makes him feel real and flawed and human. While the film never really dives into the notion of whether he's doing this for the money or to legitimately help people (save for one throwaway line late in the film), you believe by the end that whatever his motivation was for starting the Dallas Buyers Club, he's ultimately saving lives either way. He brings his own affability as an actor with him and plays on a lot of the built in notions you already have about him, and it makes for a truly incredible performance from an actor at the peak of his talent.

Leto is equally fantastic and gives a performance I frankly didn't think he was capable of giving. I've never thought much of him as an actor (save for his great performance in Darren Aronofsky's Requiem for a Dream) but his time away from acting has given him a strength and maturity he likely would not have been able to muster five years ago. The rest of the cast is good, if a bit one-dimensional, with Griffin Dunne being a standout in his two or three scenes, but the biggest misstep in the entire cast is Jennifer Garner's performance as one of the doctors who first diagnoses Ron's condition. The character is a plot device at best, but with McConaughey and Leto having a method acting pissing contest on either side of her at all times, she just drowns. The handful of moments when you think she'll rise up and deliver her flat dialogue convincingly land with a thud. Don't get me wrong, the script does her no favors, but she's supremely out of her element.

Dallas Buyers Club is a good film that I recommend solely for the two phenomenal performances by McConaughey and Leto. It's not a bad film, but it's heavy handed at best and downright ham fisted at its worst. It's the kind of film that's made with an element of safety if for no other reason than to not turn off the portion of the audience that will benefit most from its message of acceptance and never giving up the fight, and the average moviegoer that stumbles onto it will be entertained by its often lighthearted look at some supremely heavy subject matter. It's a baby step in the right direction, but make no mistake when I say that McConaughey and Leto's performances alone will make you feel like you've gotten your money's worth.

GO Rating: 3.5/5

[Photos via RottenTomatoes]

Day 251: 12 Years a Slave

"Take comfort Patsey, the good lord'll manage Epps. In his own time, the good lord'll manage 'em all."

With just two feature films to his name, British director Steve McQueen has shown himself to be a man interested in unflinching looks at the horrors of humanity. It seems a natural fit for him, in his third feature, to tackle one of the greatest horrors that humans have ever perpetrated on one another… slavery. 12 Years a Slave, based on the autobiographical book of the same title, brings McQueen's talent behind the camera to the forefront, and gives us perhaps the most fearless look at these atrocities yet put on film.

Opening in 1841, Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is a free black man living with his wife and two children in Saratoga, NY. When his wife leaves town, Solomon is given an offer by two traveling showmen to come to Washington DC and play violin in a show for a sum he can't refuse. Upon arriving in Washington and completing his first week of service, the two men drug Solomon and sell him into slavery. He is transported by boat to New Orleans where he is given the name Platt and housed in a slave market run by a man named Freeman (Paul Giamatti).

He is first sold to a plantation owner named Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch) who seems to be a benevolent man, but after a confrontation between Solomon and one of Ford's overseers (Paul Dano), Ford sells him to Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender) in an attempt to save his life. Epps is not like Ford in any way. He is a vicious slave owner who uses scripture and violence to keep his slaves subservient. Hope begins to dwindle for Solomon, and as every attempt he makes to get back home to his family fails, he seems doomed to be a slave forever.

12 Years a Slave is one of the most unpleasant viewing experiences you will ever have in a movie theater, but that's to be expected from a director like McQueen. The common thread that runs through his films is that they're difficult to get through, and while you can admire the craftsmanship and talent on display, both in front of and behind the camera, they're not films you'll seek to revisit often. Now, this does not make 12 Years a Slave a bad film; It's quite the opposite. McQueen is able to depict the horrors of slavery with both an immediacy that makes you feel as if you're right there, and an aesthetic distance that keeps you from falling into total despair alongside the characters. It's a balancing act that not many directors can pull off, and I fear that in the hands of someone a bit more heavy-handed behind the camera, it could have fallen into schlock at any moment.

Despite the horrific subject matter, McQueen is able to keep the audience engaged and he achieves this through long takes, some still and some frantically moving around the action. It's a true director's showcase, and one that I can admire from a distance but I would not actively seek to relive anytime soon. It's a horror film dressed up in the clothes of an historical epic, and it's one of the more frightening films ever made. This is true horror, where the promise of sunrise or the arrival of the police is not comfort enough to save the hero from the boogeyman. It's sustained, unrelenting, soul-draining horror.

The biggest fault I can find in the film is in its final two scenes. While they are full of emotional resonance, they're hardly enough to help the audience down from all that's come before and give them a full catharsis. Because the film lacks the glossy Hollywood sheen of a film like Schindler's List, the film's conclusion feels rushed and under-developed in a way that baffles me a bit. Why devote all that time to Solomon's suffering and then not give the audience or even Solomon himself time to breathe after it all, and show him readjusting to his life after slavery? It's a baffling decision, and one driven by the film's devotion to cruelty over hope that makes it virtually impossible for me to want to revisit ever again.

Chiwetel Ejiofor has spent the better part of a decade languishing in thankless supporting roles (Inside Man, Love Actually) or under seen leading roles (Kinky Boots, Redbelt) and here he is finally given a showcase worthy of his talents. His performance is remarkable for its nuances and layers, and he shines throughout. He has a handful of truly amazing moments, but they are in service of a fully realized performance, and he is more than deserving of all the acclaim that will come his way as a result. Fassbender is both his equal and opposite in every way, and while he's given the flashier role, he manages to infuse it with a quiet menace that matches his more explosive moments. It's a role that could have very easily slipped into caricature, but he's a savvy enough actor not to fall victim to that temptation.

The rest of the supporting cast is outstanding as well, with Lupita Nyong'o being the true standout as Patsey, Epps' favored slave, and one for whom he reserves his greatest cruelties. In her first major film role, she manages to create a fully formed and wholly empathetic character, one for whom your heart will break, and she does it so effortlessly. The only two actors with whom I could find much fault would be Paul Dano & Brad Pitt. Dano is a world-class over-actor, who comes close to ruining the realism McQueen seeks to achieve, and his performance is jarringly out of step with the rest of the film. My gripe with Pitt is that he seems to be doing a variation on his Aldo Raine character from Inglourious Basterds, and it made me think that he's just hopping from movie to movie as this character, righting social injustices. He's not bad, his choices just took me out of the movie completely.

The film's script by John Ridley is fantastic in its dialogue and scenarios, and its effectiveness lies in how truly sparse it is. The cinematography by McQueen's frequent collaborator Sean Bobbitt is incredibly good, though a bit too prone to standalone Terrence Malick-esque shots of the sun rising or setting through the trees. The biggest detriment to the film, by far, is its score by Hans Zimmer. Zimmer is the kind of composer, much like John Williams, that when he's on, can create great pieces of music, but when he's off, he can be leading and overbearing. Many of the music cues, particularly in the first half of the film, are awful and out of place, and doing what no score should ever do, and that's telling the audience how to feel about a particular moment. Why McQueen chose him, I'll never know, because his score gives the film a Hollywood feel that McQueen was obviously trying to buck at every turn.

12 Years a Slave is outstanding, by far the most definitive portrayal of American slavery yet committed to celluloid. But make no mistake it is, by design, a chore to get through. It will be studied and dissected and analyzed for years to come, and its superior craftsmanship all but ensures that those doing the studying will find a ton to admire about it. It's as assured and well-crafted a film as you're likely to see this year, but don't expect it to go down easy. There's little to be found here but misery and hopelessness, but that was its aim, and you should either steel yourself for that, or avoid it at all costs.  

[Photos via BoxOfficeMojo]

Day 250: Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa

"I might be too old to stir the gravy but I can still lick the spoon."

I am an unabashed admirer of the Jackass television series and the three unbelievably funny feature films that the crew has produced. The true genius of Jackass, for me anyway, was that everything was always done at their own expense; They always ended up being the butt of their own jokes. Therefore, it was with extreme apprehension that I approached the latest film from Jackass star Johnny Knoxville and director Jeff Tremaine, Bad Grandpa, as it seemed that this was going to be a deviation from that successful formula. This time there's a plot involved, but more troubling than that, it seemed that the jokes were going to be at the expense of innocent bystanders, and that had me worried. Was I worried for no reason? Read on to find out...

Irving Zisman (Knoxville) is an 80-year old man whose wife has just died. At her funeral, his deadbeat daughter shows up with his grandson Billy (Jackson Nicoll), and informs Irving that she's being sent to prison. Irving must either take care of Billy himself or make the trip from Nebraska to Raleigh, NC where Billy's dad Chuck (Greg Harris) lives. Irving wants a taste of his newly single freedom, so he decides to bring Billy across country to his father.

Along the way, the two get into all manner of shenanigans, many of them rehashes of things Knoxville has gotten into before on the show and in the other films. Over the course of the trip, Irivng & Billy very predictably begin to bond, and Irving has second thoughts about dropping him off with his father, who only wants Billy for the promise of the $600 a month the government will give him to care for Billy. 

As I stated a moment ago, my biggest issue with the film is that many of the gags in the film are just repurposed gags from the various other Jackass ephemera. He gets his manhood stuck in a vending machine and relies on passersby to help him get unstuck. His testicles dangle out of his shorts and touch people. He shoplifts and plays the senility card to get out of it. They may as well have called the film Jackass' Greatest Hits, as there's very little inspiration to be found in the film. 

Most of the inspiration comes from the baffling looks given him and the child by the unsuspecting bystanders, and while it works for a bit, it gets old fast. Take for example the scene in the bingo hall where Irving is going to meet some women. He drinks his bingo marker, and that gets reactions. Then he whips out a blender and makes margaritas. More reactions follow. He squeezes lime juice on his crotch to check for venereal disease. Even more reactions. Then, after he's sauced, he seat hops and hits on any woman that will make eye contact with him. It goes on for the length of a bible, and just ceases to be funny anymore. 

There are a handful of inspired bits, many of which likewise get beaten into the ground, such as his trip to a St. Louis strip joint on Ladies' Night, where it's funny for a bit, but it then devolves into him stripping himself, and the inspiration flies right out the window. It feels as if they had funny setups, and just relied on the reactions to carry the day. It just gets old fast. Ditto Irving's obsession with bedding a black woman, which is funny the first five or six times he injects casual racism into a conversation with a lady, but then gets to be interminable. 

This may lose me some credibility, but I think that Knoxville & Tremaine are comedic geniuses. They had their finger on the pulse of a truly unique and original brand of comedy, and milked it for just about all it was worth. Here, they're coasting on fumes, hoping that the people they run into will give them enough comedy in their reactions to an old man and a kid doing inappropriate things to last 92 minutes. It just doesn't. The formula that they're borrowing from Sacha Baron Cohen's Da Ali G Show, as well as Borat & Bruno was calculated to catch average everyday people doing and saying terrible things. This takes all the piss out of that idea and relies on them to either be shocked spectators or angry participants, and it certainly doesn't play well over an entire feature film. 

Knoxville is fine in the film, some of his Zisman bits, such as the trip to the motorcycle store in Jackass 3D, are among my favorite of the series, but he's not enough to sustain an entire feature alone. Nicoll is fine as well, he's game for pretty much anything, but has a lot of painful moments when you can tell he's being fed lines, likely through an earpiece. His big finale at the beauty pageant (which has been used in pretty much every advertisement and is therefore nowhere near as funny in the film as it should be) is by far the highlight of his work in the film. 

It's hard for me to know exactly who Bad Grandpa is for. Fans of the Jackass series will likely be disappointed in all the rehashing and repurposing of bits. It's more than likely aimed at the general movie going audience who is not familiar with their brand of humor, and will likely play better to them than it does to a true fan. I would recommend this as a good entry point into their style of humor, if the Jackass series is too much for you to handle, but please know that if you enjoy this, there are much better uses of these kinds of jokes, and unfortunately, it looks like they've all been used up.

[Photos via BoxOfficeMojo]