Ode to an Ad: "Little Children" Trailer

THE TRAILER

After rewatching this trailer, I was surprised to find that it did in fact contain some, though very little, dialogue. In my memory, the only sound was the train. This means that the train motif, combined with the other visuals, was powerful enough to make a lasting impression. The dialogue certainly doesn’t detract from it and lets you know outright that the film is about an affair, but I believe you’d get most of that without any words at all.

I didn’t have any strong desire to see this film, but the trailer hooked me. Obviously the pairing of Kate Winslet and Jennifer Connelly helped, though the latter is criminally underused in the film, especially considering how prominently she’s featured in the preview. But all I knew about Patrick Wilson was that he was the guy from Hard Candy, a film I hadn’t seen at the time. (Actually, that’s still pretty much all I know about him.)

The idea of a train suggests a number of things: movement, change, speed, and most importantly, inevitability. Things are going to continue to barrel forward, and they only have one path to take. If another’s path happens to be headed towards your own, a collision is unavoidable.

That goes for both the film’s two lovers and their respective spouses (more so Connelly, since Winslet’s husband isn’t shown in the preview.) At some point Winslet and Wilson are going to unite in something that, while horrible and painful and destructive, couldn’t really be avoided. And together, they will create a new path, one that will eventually lead to an even worse crash with more consequences.

The fact that you do not SEE a train for much of the time adds an ominous tone, especially when the sounds are featured over shots of such quiet moments as a family meal and poolside lounging. It hints at some energy lying right under the surface, which in the film manifests itself first as a desire to give into temptation, and then as a secret that desperately needs to be kept.

I agree with the sentiment of unfortunate destiny up to a point, or rather, after a point. Perhaps after reaching a certain moment in the relationship, their affair is unavoidable, but they made the initial choices to reach that point in the first place.

Regardless of your opinions on the central theme, it’s a great way to hook you and leave you wanting to know more. After all, everyone loves watching a train wreck.

Impressive Impressions

The other night I caught an episode of My Name Is Earl that I hadn't seen before. Burt Reynolds guest starred as the mean owner of the strip club. His character had just died, and everyone had gathered for the funeral when a limo arrived. When the person got out, at first I thought it was Reynolds having played a trick, but this character turned out to be his son. And he was played by Norm MacDonald.

To the people in charge of casting for this show, I have only three words to say to you:

YOU. ARE. BRILLIANT.

Since the show is absurd humor, this type of casting totally worked. But it got me thinking...has this ever happened before? Has someone's impression of a particular actor later lead to their working together or playing relatives?

The only other project that comes to mind is one that might never come to fruition. Ben Stiller and Tom Cruise have talked about making a Hardy Boys film. Stiller played Tom Cruise once (again, on SNL's Celebrity Jeopardy) and Tom Crooze once (on a fake "behind-the-scenes" look at Mission: Impossible II).

I'd love to see them together in a comedy. They play well off each other, and Cruise is one of the few major stars who hasn't appeared in a lighthearted comedy. (Cocktail has a suicide and Risky Business deals with sex too realistically to be considered lighthearted.)

This project is more a result of Cruise and Stiller's friendship than anything else, and it's also that friendship that led to the impressions in the first place. So the Reynolds/MacDonald casting is more interesting because they weren't friends before MacDonald impersonated him. (Not to say that they are friends now, but Reynolds at least agreed to work with him.)

Can anyone else think of any other times when great impressions have lead to unique casting?

"E" for Effort?

As good as it was, everyone pretty much knew that Iron Man was just something to hold people over until The Dark Knight finally showed up. Even Robert Downey Jr. was willing to make fun of this fact. But it’s only one point behind The Dark Knight on Rotten Tomatoes. Is it just as good?

Immediately after seeing The Dark Knight, I had a short conversation with some friends about which of the films I enjoyed more. While I ultimately sided with the latter due to Heath Ledger’s captivating performance, the enjoyment level was negligible.

One was obviously much darker (It’s even in the title.), but actually keeping a film light-hearted makes it easier to enjoy. A screenwriting professor one told me “don’t take the audience through hell unless you’re going to bring them back out of it.” I don’t necessarily agree with that because I have enjoyed some films with extremely bleak endings. For me, quality of filmmaking matters much more than the tone.

This isn’t to say that I would have necessarily disliked Iron Man had it been more serious. One of the critiques I’ve heard is that Tony Stark never really felt any consequences for his involvement with the weapons corporation. It was addressed but not really focused on. Speculation is that the sequel might delve into this more as well as focus on his alcoholism, which was a major storyline in the comics. (Hopefully they don’t let the somewhat similar theme in Hancock scare them off because, as good as Will Smith’s performance was, I’d still love to see Downey play such a character.)

So while it could have been more dramatic, I don’t mind that it wasn’t. In fact, there’s nothing worse than a dramatic moment that doesn’t work in an otherwise entertaining but not serious film.

That said, I also find it annoying when a film tries so hard to be dramatic that it becomes tedious. Even if it has some great moments, that desire to be taken as higher art and not quite achieving it might even be worse than never striving for it in the first place.

The question is: Should films be judged solely on what they are or on what they aim to be? If a film tries to explore an important issue but comes across heavy-handed, should it be given more credit than a crude sex comedy that makes you laugh over and over again?

I base how good I consider a film by how well it achieves (or how close it comes to achieving) what it sets out to do. Dumb & Dumber couldn’t be a better version of what it is. Yet I probably wouldn’t discuss it on the same plain as Rain Man or Ghandi. That’s not to say it couldn’t be argued, but it’s not an argument you’re likely to win.

This does not, however, mean I wouldn’t vehemently defend it if someone tried to pass it off as just a stupid comedy. (For one thing, the two actors in it have shown that they are AMAZING performers, which just makes them that much more entertaining to watch.)

Can goofy comedies and rousing dramas be judged against each other, or is that comparing apples and oranges?

The Last Laugh

Hopefully we can all agree on two things.

1. It’s sad that Heath Ledger is no longer with us, both because of the entertainment he brought us as an actor and more so because of the tragedy of dying so young, leaving behind a grieving family and a young child who will have to grow up without a father.

2. His performance as the Joker is nothing short of mesmerizing, making it nearly impossible to see the actor behind the character.

But after that, the camps are divided. In one corner you have those that have happily jumped on the “definitely deserves an Oscar nomination” train.

On the other side are those that, while perhaps impressed with what Ledger did with the role, are saying that the word Oscar is only being tossed around because of his unfortunate passing.

The first group is accused of joining in with the massive hype, declaring it “Oscar worthy” simply because it's the popular thing to do right now. The second group is immediately called "a bunch of haters," having taken the opposite view JUST to take the opposite view.

I think there would be a similar division if Ledger was still alive. Those that didn’t think he deserved the nomination would be accused of being against comic book movies. Meanwhile, Batman fans clamoring for an Oscar nom would be considered less discerning film critics, having latched onto an above average performance in an average, awkwardly put together film. (Though you can be in a horribly structured film and still win an Oscar.)

Obviously it’s VERY early in the year to be talking about Oscars, so we’ll have to wait and see. After I’ve seen some other good supporting actor roles, I’ll make up my mind about whether or not Ledger belongs with them. And if he should be nominated, I’ll decide whether I’d vote for him over the other nominees.

The only two complaints I’ve heard about his role are that there was nothing to the character and that he had no arc. I’d like to address both of these things.

As far as the depth of the character is concerned, an actor can only do so much with what he’s given. He can add layers, but he can’t add actual backstory. That's where the writing comes in.

Now in this case, I actually LOVED how the Joker was written. You can’t really explain him, so leaving it a mystery makes it that much more frightening. But even though the Joker is fairly one-dimensional, that doesn’t make him boring. I was particularly impressed with how much depth Ledger gave to a character that really has nothing underneath the surface.

Look at two other Oscar-winning performances: Javier Bardem as Anton Chigurh and Sir Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lector. We know that Anton is out to collect the money and drugs, but we never learn why he’s the way he is. And the same is mostly true for Lector. Yes, the fact that he was a psychiatrist adds a bit of backstory, but his motivations and transformation is never fully explained. (This is pretending, as we should, that Hannibal Rising doesn’t exist.)

As far as an arc goes, Anton has none. I initially thought that Lector didn’t have one either, but a friend pointed out his relationship with Clarice. And this made me realize that the Joker has a similar relationship with Batman.

The Joker’s feelings for Batman grow throughout the film. Initially he just wants to kill him, but then he realizes that Batman gives him a purpose, something to fight against. This change is actually much more significant than Lector’s. Though Lector’s affection for Clarice grows along with their relationship, he knows from his first meeting that he would never want to kill her.

In addition, the Joker’s plan does escalate. Though some see this as pounding the message of the movie into the ground, I see it as the Joker’s revelation of what he is to do with his life: create chaos with as little interference as possible to show just how close the world was to going there on its own.

Though these are worthy criteria, I’m more inclined to judge a great performance by how much it affects me and by how much the actor ceases to be an actor and becomes the character. I’m dying to see the movie again simply to watch the Joker, since I can’t get some of his lines out of my head. While they were great lines for the most part, I can't imagine reading them on paper would have anywhere near the same effect as hearing Ledger speak them.

Add to that the aura of mystery that will forever surround this character since he’s not around to answer endless questions about his technique. While it doesn’t make Lector any less engaging, it is comical to learn that Hopkins created the voice by combining Truman Capote and Katherine Hepburn. We know Ledger dug deep (too deep, it seems) to form this character, but never knowing the full extent of that does make it more appealing, at least to me.

And I only realized the full transformation that Ledger made the other night. I was picturing the scene where his makeup is thinnest, which I believe is the interrogation scene. I tried to imagine wiping that makeup away to reveal the real Ledger underneath. And finally, it hit me. I was looking at the poster for A Knight’s Tale, and the true transformation that Ledger made really hit home.

The Joker isn’t Heath Ledger with makeup. Heath Ledger is the Joker WITHOUT makeup.

The Dark Knight Always Triumphs

The Dark Knight currently holds two pretty impressive #1 spots. (Well, actually it holds quite a few, but I'm only going to talk about two of them.) While I thought the darker tone of the film would prevent it from reaching anything higher than #3 for all-time biggest opening weekend box office, it reached #1 with approximately $155 million dollars. Judging from my own screening and several comments I've read online, young children weren't present for the most part, which makes the feat even more impressive.

It is also, according to votes to date, the #1 rated film on IMDb, the ultimate source of movie knowledge. In other words, going by the votes there, it's the best movie of all time.

Does the film deserve either of these recognitions? While I'm not here to be a hater, I would like to shed some light on the issue.

I'm sure there are many people who saw the movie who would have no qualms declaring it the "best movie of all time." Though I admire their enthusiasm, I have to question their logic. True, the idea of saying that ANY movie is the best of all time is a fruitless, pointless effort, but if the majority of the world could come to a consensus, it surely wouldn't be The Dark Knight that got chosen.

Other new releases have hit similar peaks on the site, and I have no doubt that this one will eventually move down in the rankings, if for no other reason than haters voting it down simply because they can. (The Joker would love IMDb because it shows humanity at its worst.)

The film definitely raises some moral issues/questions and has some fantastic performances. I think Ledger's goes without saying at this point, but that won't stop me from writing a whole post about it later.

But I had two major issues with the film, and they sort of tie into each other.

1. It was WAY too heavy-handed. While this played into specific scenes, it was especially evident in the ending voice-over by Commissioner Gordon. He said lines VERBATIM that Lucius, Alfred, and Dent had said earlier in the film. I got the point of Batman having to be a martyr, and I liked it. But I didn't need it pounded into my skull.

2. In such a gritty realistic film with such great acting, bad acting or unnecessary comical moments really hurt it. The kids shooting and then the cars blowing up was straight out of the Michael Bay rejected script spoof. The passenger of the van carrying Dent had the worst reactions ever.

And the way things played out on the ferries was not believable to me. I liked the set up, and I actually liked what happened with the convicts. But the "innocent" people did not feel natural. No one mentioned the fact that not EVERYONE on the other ferry was a convict. There were guards and officials and crew. And there were just not enough people talking in general. And no one tried to get off only to be stopped by other people.

Putting it to a vote was pointless. Obviously "YES" is going to win. And there's no possibly way they counted over 500 votes that quickly. No one wanted to turn the key at first because they didn't discuss never revealing who actually did it or all lying and saying that the Joker blew it up.

Finally, I didn't believe for a second that that guy WOULDN'T have blown up the other ferry. He seemed like the type of guy that would totally justify it. Maybe I couldn't believe his change because I didn't think he was a very good actor.

While I didn't have a problem with the length, I can see how others did. It seemed to wrap itself up numerous times only to keep going. The stuff featuring the Joker was the most riveting, so it might not have been a bad idea to focus solely on that.

And I totally agree with a friend who said the first time we met the Joker should have been the "pencil scene." (I cringe just thinking about that.) The bank stuff was there to establish that he was stealing from the mob and that he had a total disregard for the people working for him.

We got the latter message plenty of times in the film, and the former could have been setup another way, even within the mob meeting before the Joker shows up. That's the first moment that everyone remembers, so it should have started his character with that and saved us some time.

Despite these criticisms, I highly enjoyed the film. And I am more than happy that it took the number one weekend box office spot away from Spiderman 3. While I haven't seen it, I've heard about the "emo Spiderman" stuff, and that's enough to knock it significantly down from the status of The Dark Knight. Any scene with the Joker gives you more to dwell on afterwards than the whole of the Spiderman movie.

Who knows how long it will hold onto the top spot, what with insane marketing and ticket prices ever increasing. But as long as it's there, I'm satisfied.

Changing Horses In Midstream

I watched Hancock earlier this week, and while it had its moments and solidified my high regard for Will Smith as an actor, I did not like the film. It had a lot of potential. Perhaps too much, as by the end it seemed to be pulling in multiple directions.

In fact, halfway through it complete shifts both plot AND tone. Initially, I thought this was its major fault. And while that definitely let to my dissatisfaction, I later realized the mere fact it changed so quickly and so significantly wasn't the problem.

Million Dollar Baby does a very similar thing, as its plot and tone take, if not a complete 180, still enough of a turn to throw you off. But I liked it. A lot.

In trying to analyze the differences in how the films handle these changes, I was surprised at the similarities I found.

Obviously to discuss these I'll need to go into some detail about both films' plots, so here's a warning: THERE BE SPOILERS!

Both films begin with a plot that is exactly what you'd expect from watching the previews. Hancock follows a superhero who's kind of an asshole as he tries to rebuild his image. Million Dollar Baby follows a tough female boxer as she convinces a retired boxing coach to train her, leading to the formation of a very loving, father-daughter sort of bond.

The latter film's tone during its first half is pretty easy to define. It's a realistic, gritty, yet upbeat mood of yearning for the underdog to make it. Basically, Rocky with a girl.

Hancock is a little harder to define, which is what kept me interested for awhile. While it's definitely comedic, there's a sense of sadness permeating from the title character; you can feel his loneliness and desire to be loved. And the humor itself, while slipping into over-the-top country a couple of times, stays fairly tongue-in-cheek. There are elaborate special effects, but they aren't meant to inspire awe. They essentially say, "Yeah, I'm a superhero. Here's the kind of shit I can do."

Even as Hancock tries to reinvent himself, the film avoids being too sappy (for awhile). It has a bit of fun with the idea that he can still be an asshole as long as he's a lovable asshole. (But don't get my started on how much I hated the "call me an asshole one more time" motif.)

I would hardly call the revelation that Mary (Charlize Theron), the wife of the PR agent (Jason Bateman) helping Hancock change his image, also has superpowers a plot twist. From the first moment she and Hancock see each other, it's annoyingly, painfully obvious that they share some kind of secret. Then it just becomes a matter of how long the film drags on before finally getting to it.

Though it turned out to be too good to be true, I loved Hancock's simple explanation for why he was the way he was. He didn't know. He woke up in an emergency room in Miami eighty years ago (He doesn't age.) with a crushed skull and amnesia. The skull miraculously healed itself, and he discovered he was invincible.

Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Since this wasn't an origin story, I didn't care to know all of the intricate details about how he got his powers. (Actually, I generally don't care to know them even when it IS an origin story because they tend to focus on them too much.)

But after Mary reveals her secret, we're treated to some of the most convoluted backstory possible. I've tried to sort out the details to make it easier, but believe me when I say it wasn't explained nearly as concisely as I've done here.

1. Thousands of years ago, a number of "things" like Hancock were put on Earth to protect the people and watch over them.
2. For some reason, they were created in pairs, which meant they were forever linked and predisposed to being together. Whenever they're apart, they are drawn to each other, sometimes without knowing it (like when one has amnesia).
3. This is an especially bad idea because when the pairs are together for two long, they start to become mortal. This leaves them vulnerable to attacks and death by old age, which is how all the others died.
4. Distance is the only thing that helps them keep their powers, so Mary has tried to stay away, but Hancock keeps being drawn to her .
5. They were together a number of times in the past, but since they were vulnerable, they were attacked. I'm assuming that they were then apart for long stretches of time, otherwise they'd be much older.

Before all of this came out, I thought the revelation was going to be that Mary was actually a super villain, and that she and Hancock would have to fight. That ain't great, but it's a lot more straight-forward than what they went with.

A bit of a side note: My initial guess was that Mary had gotten her powers from sleeping with Hancock in the past. But perhaps the implications of that are beyond the bounds of PG-13 territory.

This isn't to say that I don't want a complicated story-line. It just don't want a convoluted one. There is something incredibly tragic in the idea of a couple that is separated for hundreds of years at a time in order to keep the other one safe. That reminds me of The Time Traveler's Wife in a way. But having Mary simply talk about it wasn't enough to get me emotionally invested.

The biggest problem was all of the explanation that became necessary after the plot changed. It went from a movie that didn't need to explain anything to a movie that still didn't make sense after seemingly endless discussions.

While Million Dollar Baby dramatically shifts plots as well, we know exactly what's going on. One of Maggie's (Hilary Swank) opponents fights dirty and punches her after the round ending bell has sounded, catching her off-guard. She's knocked down and lands on her stool in such a way that she becomes completely paralyzed, save for above the neck.

It definitely grabs you from out of nowhere, pulling you into the depths of hell. But even though it's a surprise turn, you know exactly what's going on. The only questions that need to be asked are moral ones, and the film doesn't really ask them for you, much less attempt to answer them.

While they still would have needed to cut down on all of the exposition, Hancock would have been a lot more interesting if the story had changed to something we were familiar with, such as an affair between Hancock and Mary. At least that would have thrown us off of the real secret for awhile.

The tonal shift in Million Dollar Baby isn't significant, but it's there. While the film stays gritty and realistic, it loses that uplifting hope that it starts with when you think you're going to watch Maggie rise to greatness. Instead, you're filled with agony and despair.

Hancock's tonal shift is much more pronounced, and the really unfortunate thing about it is that while the plot gets more serious and dramatic (or at least attempts to), the tone becomes campier and more cookie-cutter blockbuster action movie.

Mary doesn't want Hancock to expose her secret. When he flies off to do so, they have a huge chase, destroying everything in their path and eventually fighting in front of Mann's Chinese Theater, which is kind of a stupid move on her part if she wants to keep her powers a secret. In addition, the special effects are now meant to dazzle us, including a tornado and snow that shows up for some reason.

This could have been really powerful and dramatic. A woman desperate to keep her secret hidden in order to keep the man she loves. Instead it becomes a pointless action sequence.

The real twist of the plot (that is, the only thing that really surprised me) comes soon after this when Hancock is injured. For some reason, Mary told him everything except how them being together makes them slowly become mortal.

This scene is done pretty brilliantly, as it seems to be about Hancock slipping back into his alcoholism. He stops by a convenience store to buy some drinks and winds up thwarting a robbery. He gets shot in the process, and the bullets actually wound him. (Though to what degree is never clear. He's not entirely mortal because he gets shot A LOT later and doesn't die.)

So as you see, both films feature serious injuries that take you by complete surprise. And afterwards, the majority of the film takes place in a hospital.

In Hancock's case, the hospital serves as an action set piece when some "villains" return to settle the score after a prison break. While I'll admit that Hancock is more vulnerable now, these bad guys were previously NO THREAT WHATSOEVER, so it's hard to be worried for him. Add that to the fact that they have no plan except to show up at the hospital with guns. Considering that they don't know why Hancock was injured (for all they know it was a special kind of bullet that they don't have), this is really stupid.

Both films end with the main character making a decision to do what he thinks is best for the female lead. In Million Dollar Baby, Frankie (Clint Wastwood) euthanizes Maggie, and though this has lead to a lot of debate, it's definitely what her character wants.

The decision in Hancock isn't nearly as tough to make. He leaves. It's supposed to seem tough because Hancock has been shot and has to stagger away, leap out a window, and get further and further away so that he and Mary can become immortal again. (As he's attacked by the bad guys she suffers the pain right along with him, so by the end they are both on the brink of death.)

That is, I think they are. But it's never clear exactly how close he is to dying or how much he even feels the pain. Granted, I didn't want more explanation. But it would have been nice to have had some idea of how heroic his actions were.

With both of these films, I knew there was a "twist" before I saw the movie. No one called the turn of events in Million Dollar Baby by the name "plot twist" though, perhaps because it was a freak occurrence and not a revelation that had been true all along. And I wouldn't call the first reveal in Hancock a twist simply because it was so inevitable from the very beginning.

One I loved. One I didn't like. Obviously other things in the films besides how they handle the major change affected those decisions, but I'm sure not having to listen to countless questions be answered helped me become much more engrossed with the drama in Million Dollar Baby.

Can anyone else think of any other films that shift so dramatically in either plot, tone, or both? And what did you think of them?

This Was Your Life

The other night my roommate and I attended a screening of the soon to be released film American Teen. It’s your typical high school film. There’s comedy and drama. People are mean. There’s a nerd who wants to find a girlfriend. There are relationships that start and end. There’s a subplot about the basketball team. More or less everything you’d expect.

One major difference though: it’s all real. Nanette Burstein, director of the documentary The Kid Stays In The Picture, followed a group of high schoolers in Warsaw, Indiana for their senior year. While the film isn’t anything groundbreaking, it is an interesting look back into the whole high school experience, a nostalgic jaunt down memory lane.[1]

It’s interesting how closely some of the storylines resemble Hollywood films. There’s a group of popular girls who take down one of their own, a la Mean Girls, though what they do is infinitely crueler. There’s a jock who dates the free-flowing artistic girl only to break her heart. Though Freddie Prinze Jr. isn’t a jock[2], it reminded me of She’s All That, minus the happy ending.

After the screening, four of the featured teens (now two years older[3]) answered questions about their experience with the film, including what it was like to look back on documented evidence of their senior year. That is, eight months of their lives.

This got me thinking about what a strange experience this would be. It’s not reality TV, where years down the line you could see how you acted in a certain competition. It’s not even a documentary about a specific event, like Spellbound or The King of Kong. It’s merely following their normal everyday lives, much like the show “This American Life” focuses on a particular aspect of someone’s daily life that, while normal to them, might seem strange to outsiders.[4]

Most of us look back on our teenage years and laugh at certain aspects and feel bad about others. But they can literally watch themselves. It’s as if they had a crazy documentarian for a Dad.[5]

All of the people involved with American Teen have changed significantly, which is to be expected, but they each found it fascinating to look back on themselves. While I wouldn’t relish having a camera crew follow me around, I can’t deny how much I’d love to see movies scrapped together from previous years of my life.

What about you? Do you think you’d learn anything from it? Would you enjoy it? Or do you want to leave the past in the past?

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[1] I actually identified most with a friend character that was barely featured. I didn’t really learn enough about him to know if we were alike, but I have a feeling.

[2] Summer Catch doesn’t count.

[3] So probably not teens anymore, for the most part.

[4] But even this is more specific than American Teen. No one would call anything in the lives of those teens out of the ordinary.

[5] I bet there is years’ worth of footage of Werner Herzog’s kids.

Women Wear Pants Too: The Ladies of "Man Stroke Woman"

From time to time, I'll highlight a lady that gets to do more in Hollywood than just play the wife/girlfriend/romantic interest.

THE LADIES OF “MAN STROKE WOMAN”

Amanda Abbington

Daisy Haggard

Meredith MacNeill

First, let me clarify that this show isn’t as risqué as the title makes it sound.[1] It airs on BBC, and in American terminology it would more accurately be described as “Man Slash Woman,” that is, men & women and their various interactions. It’s a sketch comedy show featuring the three women above plus three men. The most famous of the bunch is Nick Frost, costar to Simon Pegg in both Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz.[2]

The show has a number of things going for it, all of which have to do with keeping things small. Each episode is only a half hour long, so you can race through a few episodes (or the entire disc) without feeling too guilty. The first series (as “seasons” are called in the UK) is only six episodes, so while all of the sketches might not be hilarious, it never feels as if they ran out of ideas. And perhaps most importantly, the sketches are only as long as they need to be. Some are only a few seconds, while others are longer, but rarely does one go past two minutes.[3] No one can accuse the Brits of overstaying their welcome.[4]

I rented it from Netflix and promptly went through it in two sittings. Though my roommate and I repeat some of the lines from time to time, and I would love to show many of the sketches to other friends, I can’t advocate buying it because I felt it was a bit uneven.

Still, it’s an impressive feat for a cast of six, another aspect that makes the show so interesting. Only when it’s essential to the sketch do any of the performers change appearances, so sometimes it’s fun when a recurring character makes a surprise appearance in a sketch that you thought was going to be about something else entirely.[5]

Having such a small cast could be a negative factor if there was a performer you just couldn’t stand, but I seriously doubt that will be the case, as each person more than pulls his or her own weight. Since I’ve talked before about how a number of people think women aren’t funny, let me just say that the women on this show are INCREDIBLY funny. Each one is equally adept at playing the “straight man” or the comical centerpiece. And it doesn’t matter if it’s a pair, the three ladies, or the whole group on screen…no one gets pushed to the background.

There are a number of sketches to be found on Youtube if you care to peruse. In fact, many of my favorites from online turned out to be from series two, which already aired in Britain but has yet to come out on DVD. I’m eagerly anticipating its release.

Every episode of the first series ends with the same sketch, the three women playing rude, annoying workers at a make-up counter in a department store. Each features a customer that grows impatient with the juvenile antics of the two workers and asks to speak to their manager. The third woman comes over and pretends to show a real interest in the complaint before then engaging in the same child-like behavior.

Though they all follow the same pattern, each one is unique and produces a great deal of laughs. (At least from me.) So I’ll leave you with my favorite of the six (the moment 44 seconds in kills me every time):

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[1] That said, since it’s from the BBC, it does use language and discuss topics you aren’t going to see on “SNL.”

[2] One of my favorite comedies ever. If you don’t have a problem with the occasional gory death played for laughs, check it out immediately.

[3] It’s a benefit to being a single camera show filmed on location. No skits that are beaten to death, buried, dug back up, and beaten some more.

[4] If you ignore British Colonialism, that is.

[5] Some sketches/characters appear just throughout a single episodes, while some appear throughout a few (or all).

Friends On TV

Last Sunday some friends and I staged a reading of an episode of “30 Rock” that I wrote for a contest.[1] Based on their feedback and comments I’ve gotten from people who read it later, I did a good job capturing the voice of the show. And I have to say: it was easy.

That doesn't mean it didn't take a lot of effort. I spent countless time outlining, struggled through a first draft that I knew wasn’t great, and then spent three or four late nights rewriting scene by scene.

But compared to writing my own material, it was a breeze. And I believe that ease comes down to one simple fact: Once you know the characters, the story almost tells itself.

Two years ago, I wrote an episode of “My Name Is Earl.” It was my first time writing something not completely original, something I hadn’t created every aspect of. The first season had just ended, and I had only seen one or two episodes. But it was hot and fresh, plus the concept easily lent itself to creating scenarios. Combining that with the fact that a friend had given me a good idea for something Earl could complete for his list, I decided to write an episode.

While I could have read plot descriptions online to make sure I wasn’t repeating anything, I wanted to see more of the show to get a feel for the characters.

So I downloaded[2] the first season and began to watch it. I wound up watching the ENTIRE first season in one day. Perhaps not the healthiest exercise, but it gave me a great advantage. I now felt like these characters were my friends. I felt like we had hung out, so I knew what they were like and how they talked and how they acted.[3]

From there, I was easily able to create a detailed outline that allowed me to write the entire 30+ page script in one day. And, unlike the one for “30 Rock,” I didn’t have to change that much.[4]

I later did the same thing for “Heroes.” And when I say “the same thing,” I mean it as literally as I can.

This was during the long break of the first season, after the 12^th episode or so. I now needed a drama show to write an episode of, and a number of friends had told me I would probably like "Heroes". So I downloaded all of the episodes, and watched the pilot while vacationing with a friend. Upon returning home, I spent the next day watching the rest of the episodes.[5]

Based on that I created an even more detailed outline, and once again I was able to write the entire draft in one day, meaning 50+ pages this time. I did have to go back and rewrite it, but I never made any major changes to it.

While I didn’t connect with the “Heroes” characters on as deep of a level, (We weren’t “bestest buddies.”) I was able to get a flow for how the show worked and what sorts of things to expect each episode. Still, the action wouldn’t be as interesting if not for the characters, and though I didn’t like all of them, there were a number I was quite fond of.

I’ve only had the luxury of feeling intimately connected with my OWN characters two times that I can recall. One was while doing the third (or maybe fourth) rewrite of a sitcom pilot that I wrote a year ago. I was getting pretty frustrated because it was close but not quite there, and a friend sat me down and asked me questions about my characters. He also had me compare and contrast different characters from various shows, which highlighted the fact that even characters that could be lumped together with simple descriptions (jerk, sweet, depressed, etc.) are actually very different. That difference comes from what’s underneath their personalities (Why are they acting that way? What’s their ultimate agenda?), and how they manifest that personality (their actions).

Once I was able to pinpoint the personalities of my characters, the writing was much easier.

The second time, which actually happened earlier chronologically, is when I was rewriting a comedy script I had written along with the friend mentioned above. Granted, there were only three main characters, but we knew them so well that dialogue would just roll out of us.[6]

I want to reiterate that I’m in no way saying that writing for TV is easy. If the episode I wrote was actually being written for the show, it would have had to be completed much faster.[7] But when it comes to writing things on spec, existing shows are much easier for me to dive into because I already know the characters so well.

Still, the ultimate goal is to always reach that point with the characters from my original work, no matter how long it takes to get there.

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[1] Well, actually it's for the ABC Writing Fellowship, but it’s quicker to just say “contest.” (Unless you then explain it in a footnote.

[2] Back then you couldn’t view them online, and the DVD hadn’t come out yet. Since it was for “research,” I felt justified.

[3] Yes, this was a little freaky.

[4] Of course, it’s not nearly as good as the “30 Rock” one either.

[5] A little math shows that the “Earl” watching actually took more time, but "Heroes" felt worse because each episode was such a commitment. Plus the fact that, in retrospect, it wasn’t as good.

[6] Which is why we spent countless hours debating about this line versus that line.

[7] Maybe twice as fast. Or maybe even more than that.

Category Five: 5 Actors Who I Can't Believe Haven't Been Nominated For An Oscar

You know the old saying: "It's an honor just to be nominated." Obviously, it’s more of an honor to win, but for the most part, I think these statements are genuine. In the acting categories especially, there's often a favorite to win. If you aren't that favorite, you should still be pretty happy of the fact that you were in the running with them. In the end, you are still being hailed as great.

Still, it must not feel great to lose, especially if you are nominated lots of times and never get to take home the statuette. "Oscar nominee" just doesn't have quite the same ring to it as "Oscar winner."

But what about those that don't even get nominated? There have been numerous performances that deserved a nomination; however, I understand the selection is limited. Sometimes a great performance doesn't make the cut.

So instead of dwelling on specific performances, I'm going to talk about five performers that I'm shocked have yet to receive a nomination despite their numerous worthy performances. I'm not necessarily saying they deserved to be nominated for each of these roles, but I provide them as an example of their body of work.

#5: Dennis Quaid

Notable Performances in: In Good Company, Far From Heaven, The Rookie, Traffic, Wyatt Earp

Unfortunately I think most people know Quaid as the ex-husband of Meg Ryan. That’s a shame because he’s a very talented actor and continues to mix up commercial films with interesting fair, occasionally combining the two.

Other than his exceptional portrayal of Doc Holliday,[1] he excels at playing the “every man.” What keeps that from being generic is that he is the every man searching for what comes next in his life. That might be returning to an old love or confessing a new one, but either way, he wants something more out of life.

Of particular note is his role in Far From Heaven, where he plays a closeted homosexual husband. He brings a quiet passion to the role, and the entire time, there’s a pain behind his eyes. It’s never quite clear whether he’s upset at what he’s done to his wife or at himself for not having the courage to be who he really is.


#4: Bruce Willis

Notable Performances in: Twelve Monkeys, The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable, Sin City, 16 Blocks

In the late 80's to early 90's, there was a boom of action stars that we haven't seen since. Many faded away. One is busy running California.

Of all of these stars, Willis stands out for one particular reason: He's actually a good actor.[2]

Even as John McClaine, he has great comic timing. You laugh at him not because he kills bad guys and follows it up with an atrocious pun[3] but because he's genuinely funny.

And he has range. Along with his other action roles, he's played goofy, crazy, and depressed.

That last one is where I'd like to focus. In a way, all five of the notable roles that I mentioned are similar characters: depressed, hallowed-out, searching for meaning in life. Willis plays this type of role so well because there's something disarming about seeing him depressed. It doesn't feel natural for him not to be smiling, so you immediately sympathize with him.

I’m especially surprised he wasn’t recognized for The Sixth Sense. Toni Collette and Haley Joel Osment give great performances, but Willis is the anchor of the film. It’s his relationship with the boy that brings about the powerful scenes between mother and son.

And that world famous twist wouldn’t have worked if not for the horror Willis conveyed at realizing the truth: The only way he could help his wife was to finally let go.

#3: Guy Pearce

Notable Performances in: The Proposition, The Count of Monte Cristo, Memento, L.A. Confidential

Maybe it’s because of The Proposition (and his attachment to The Road), but when I think of Pearce, I think of “grit.” He’s not a guy I’d want to mess with.

And yet, behind that grit, there’s a perpetual longing to find answers to his questions. More often than not, the answers he seeks are about his own mind and moral compass.

Can he bring himself to kill? Is he happy with what he’s become? How important is the truth?

Grittiness may be a part of his performances now, but it was noticeable absent from his role in L.A. Confidential, where he played a straight-laced, by the book detective that waits until the end of the film to make the right (not the legal) decision.

Maybe if that role had come after all the others, people would have seen how talented he was.

#2: John Cusack

Notable Performances in: Grace is Gone, High Fidelity, Being John Malkovich, Grosse Point Blank, say anything…

Perhaps Cusack was before his time. He was quirky when quirky wasn’t cool.[4] Really, Lloyd Dobler is no different than Juno[5] (seemingly mature for their age but having striking moments of vulnerability; having a plan and sticking to it despite what outsiders think; not a part of the “in” crowd but still far from a loser).

But while Juno deals with a pregnancy, all Lloyd does during say anything… is fall in love and do whatever it takes to stay in love.[6] Yet by the time the film is over, you feel as if you know him better than some people you actually went to school with.

Even when playing a nostalgic hitman or a earnest puppeteer, Cusack brings a serious intensity to his roles that makes you momentarily forget about the absurdity going on around him. Or, in the best moments, connect with him on an emotional level despite the events being unrealistic.

#1: Jim Carrey

Notable Performances in: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Man on the Moon, The Truman Show

I don’t list as many notable performances for Carrey simply because he doesn’t have that many. But he takes the number one spot on this list because he should have been nominated for each of them.

He’s the only actor to win back-to-back Best Actor awards at the Golden Globes and yet not receive an Academy Award nomination.

I honestly don’t know what more they want from him. First he played a subdued version of his persona in The Truman Show, a likeable goofball who just happens to be the center of a reality show all about him.[7] While it’s definitely a comedy, Carrey avoids the manic actions of his normal routine, keeping Truman on an even keel until he discovers the truth of his situation. His reaction to the information, and the choice he makes once he knows, stick with me each time I see it.

He followed this up with a spot-on portrayal of Andy Kaufman. There were a few juggernauts in the running for Best Actor that year, but I’ll continue to be baffled at how Carrey slipped through the cracks. Forget the fact that he becomes Kaufman, and just look at the range showed in the film itself: anger, sadness, pure joy, depression, etc.

The only possible explanation is that people thought it wasn’t that far of a stretch from his own bizarre personality. He then blew that out of the water by playing one of the meekest love interests of recent years in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a hapless (and hopeless) romantic that just wants to love, and when that doesn’t work, just wants to not hurt anymore.

If the pain and suffering he shows after love’s gone bad doesn’t get you, and the emptiness he portrays as he realizes he’s about to lose the only thing he has left of love doesn’t get you, then just wait until the end where he decides to go through all the pain all over again just for the chance to love.

Carrey shouldn’t just have been nominated by now; he should have a couple of Oscars on his mantle. Right next to a picture of him talking through his ass.

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[1] This role was overshadowed by Val Kilmer’s fantastic take on the same character in the previous year’s Tombstone. If you forced me to pick between the performances, I would go with Kilmer.

[2] Yes, Stallone was nominated for a Best Actor Oscar for his role in the original Rocky, a damn fine movie. But his performance in First Blood shows his limited range. Rambo is really just Rocky with a (more pronounced?) mental disorder.

[3] Sure, I’m guilty of laughing at these from time to time, but I would never call them well-acted.

[4] Which is what made him cool.

[5] Except, I would argue, MUCH more believable.

[6] Actually, now that I think about it, that is a pretty big deal. And the film treats it as such.

[7] This film has only gotten more relevant.

In Defense of "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom"

I was extremely disappointed by the latest Indiana Jones movie. While I wouldn't go so far as to call it "terrible," I did leave the theater feeling let down and kind of angry, though a large part of that was due to the fact that the stuff I disliked the most was at the end of the film.

However, a number of people I know thought it was pretty good and a few others loved it. But I hope that they can understand my side of things. While most fans of the movie would argue that people are only critiquing it so heavily because it's an Indiana Jones film, I take the opposite view. People are only letting stuff go because it's an Indiana Jones film.

If you were watching a film about entirely new characters and all of that stuff started happening, you'd be complaining as much as I was. While I didn't quiz each person that enjoyed the film about why, the general consensus seems to be that they love Indiana Jones so much that they didn't care what happened; they were just happy to see him again.

I can understand that. I loved seeing him again too. But I wanted him to be the same (more or less) as the great character I remembered from the past films. The amazing Raiders of the Lost Ark. The highly entertaining Last Crusade. And the mediocre but still Indiana Jones Temple of Doom.

At least...that's how I used to feel. But after seeing Temple of Doom again for the first time in many years, I owe it an apology.

Sure, it's different from the other films. But it's jam-packed with action. It never slows down, which can make even a bad film highly entertaining. Temple of Doom, however, is not a bad film.

One of the biggest critiques (and one that I associated with it) is that it's much darker than the other films. The scene that stands out in everyone's mind is the beating heart being pulled from the man's chest. In reality, this scene isn't as gruesome as I remembered from my childhood. There's no blood, as the hand passes through the chest by way of magic (or mysticism).

Then the man being sacrificed is lowered into the lava where he burns alive. Sure, it's dark. But no darker than people's faces melting (Raiders) or a man rapidly aging to the point of decay (Crusade).

While there's straight gore (yes, extremely light gore compared to, say, a horror film, but still technically gore), Temple has other dark elements as well, such as Indy being brainwashed through drinking the blood and the voodoo doll that's used to injure him.

Really though, this isn't any darker than the greed and sinister plans of the Nazis in the other films. It's just a different type of darkness. And while those other films don't dwell as much on the sinister elements, the fast-paced, non-stop action of Temple more than makes up for the creepier moments.

Truth be told, I think a lot of the criticism comes down to the fact that its "magic" isn't based on Biblical elements like the other two films. While I enjoyed that aspect of them, there's nothing wrong with branching out and including mysticism. It sure as hell beats aliens.

The other major point of contention is the sidekicks. A lot of people find them annoying. Short Round either works for you or he doesn't. It's that simple. But when you think about it, he's really just a feistier, scrappier (Come to think of it, Short Round is a lot like Scrappy-Doo, though much less annoying.) version of Indy's dad, mostly just along for the ride but contributing to the cause every now and then. (I'd agree that Indy's dad is decidedly NOT annoying, but you'd have to concede that his interactions with Indy become a lot sappier than Short Round's.)

And then there's Willie Scott. Pretty much everyone finds her annoying. Good. That's the point. She's an anti-Marion. She contributes as little to the action as a character can without being dead. While I like Marion much more as a character, it would have been worse to create another tough girl character that paled in comparison to her. Better to make the female lead a complete 180.

While I still say it's my third favorite Indiana Jones film, I'll never again brush it aside when discussing the Indiana Jones legacy. (That "luxury" is now reserved for Crystal Skull.)

It deserves tons of credit for the mining car chase sequence alone. Seriously, that still holds up 24 years later. And can somebody tell me why this isn't a theme park ride somewhere? (I know there's an Indiana Jones ride, but I found it lackluster.) There could be another car chasing you with animatronic characters shooting at you. And there could be a point where you go over a hill and they make it look like the track disappears, so that you're jumping (The car could shake.). And finally, they could change things so that the water filling the tunnel happens while you're still in the car, and you barely outrun it, water misting down on you.

That would be awesome.

Liveblogging A Terrible Movie

I recently rented National Lampoon's Cattle Call. Though this was strictly for research purposes, I’m still ashamed. And since I was going to have to watch this thing anyway, I figured we should both get some entertainment out of it. So I liveblogged it.

As it turns out, it was far from the worst comedy I’ve ever seen. That’s not to say it was good. It was horribly put together, featuring lots of shots but very few actual scenes. Still, it genuinely made me laugh a couple of times.

Here’s a brief description of the plot to get you started: Three friends start a fake production company to audition hot women to find potential mates. (So really, it’s a comic turn on the uber-disturbing Japanese horror film Audition. Seriously, if you watch that, don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

10 seconds: The opening credits actually have some decent production value. For some reason, the font reminds me of Abercrombie & Fitch.

1 minute, 44 seconds: The film opens with a guy (Richie) on the computer. My guess was he would be looking at porn, but it turns out to be a video dating service. Girls talk to the camera. They go with the “shotgun” technique and throw about twenty at us, hoping some are funny. And in case we don’t understand what’s funny about their personalities, their ridiculous screennames drive home the point.

3 minutes, 31 seconds: While playing basketball, Richie’s friend Sherman tells a “story” about how he was at the casting agency where his sister works and tried to call a girl who they had rejected by using her headshot. But the most disgruntled janitor ever shows up demanding to throw it away because “that’s his job.”

Richie makes a joke that they should create a casting agency to meet girls, and Sherman thinks it’s a great idea. So the first act was four minutes long, apparently.

4 minutes, 54 seconds: In the very next scene, they are getting responses to their ad. But they haven’t found a space to hold the auditions. Good planning, guys.

5 minutes, 57 seconds: They call their other friend, Glenn. It’s Oswald from “The Drew Carey Show.” He answers a Lego phone. Take that, Juno.

7 minutes, 58 seconds: They divide headshots into two boxes, one that says “Dump Her” and one that says “Keep Her.” So they literally went to the trouble of making a box and printing out fancy lettering for that.

Also, there’s a Morgan Fairchild joke. Strange. I don’t think the typical viewing audience would get that.

One of the guys declares that a headshot is like a personal ad. Not too far from the truth.

10 minutes, 18 seconds: There’s a National Lampoon’s Gold Diggers poster in the background of the “production office.” Classic.

14 minutes, 32 seconds: The girl that will wind up being Richie’s love interest (Marina) calls at the exact moment that he is looking at her headshot. Impossible.

15 minutes, 7 seconds: A HUGE line of women waiting to audition. Even if that were believable, when Glenn (who’s pretending to be the non-existent film’s director) comes out, they begin to whisper that he’s the director and then TOTALLY MOB him.

I like Oswald too, but get serious.

18 minutes: Women waiting in line for the only bathroom as Glenn is inside. They discuss listening to a guy’s pee to determine how big his dick is.

Sherman overhears this and goes in next, claiming he has to get back for the auditions. But then he can’t pee. (Gee, since you didn’t really HAVE to go, are you surprised?)

He grabs some sort of fire extinguisher that sprays water and uses it to pretend that he’s peeing. Why isn’t there a REAL fire extinguisher? And why is this one in the bathroom?

21 minutes, 56 seconds: The first appearance of a vibrator.

A woman auditioning sings a song that goes, “All men should die; All they do is shit and lie.”

23 minutes: Marina shows up for the audition with her dog in tow. She apologizes and claims that she “never does this,” but it’s also established that she just drove into town, making this her first audition.

24 minutes, 15 seconds: Glenn has an unexplained coughing fit. It’s not funny. Just confusing and weird.

28 minutes, 20 seconds: “No one in Hollywood who says they're gonna make a movie actually makes one.” So true.

32 minutes, 20 seconds: Marina doesn’t want to admit that she’s living out of her car, so when Richie asks her where’s she living, she says it’s “kind of embarrassing.” He responds, “Oh, are you in Orange County?”

That’s actually really funny.

37 minutes, 54 seconds: The first appearance of a strip club.

41 minutes, 38 seconds: Sherman “auditions” a girl at his apartment that missed the “actual” auditions. He plays electric guitar, and after his solo, she responds, “I almost climaxed.” Then she proceeds to give him the most awkward blowjob ever, as she wants him to keep playing the guitar.

43 minutes, 44 seconds: The guys get their “script” by writing down the English subtitles from a foreign film. Pretty funny idea.

44 minutes, 12 seconds: Jonathan Winters makes a cameo as a crazy, belligerent studio tour guide. This just makes me sad. Plus I can barely understand what he’s saying. And I honestly don’t know why this scene is here.

1 hour, 1 minute, 51 seconds: After Richie tells Marina the truth, she tells the other two woman that have been “cast” as leads. And one of them reveals that she’s undercover. WTF?

1 hour, 3 minutes, 19 seconds: Richie wants out of the deal, but the other guys want to keep it up. Perhaps it would be a good idea to tell them that he told Marina it was fake.

1 hours, 5 minutes, 23 seconds: The “trap” that the undercover reporter sets is that the three of them want to make the film more pornographic, so they want to film themselves having sex with the guys so that they can study it.

This is how they are luring them in. Amazing.

1 hours, 8 minutes, 32 seconds: Richie leaves, but the other two guys strip and wait for the girls in a separate hotel room. But instead, a hefty dominatrix and a biker chick come over. Then the police rush in.

Um…so who the hell sent this woman undercover?

1 hour, 12 minutes: Richie has twenty four hours to provide evidence to clear their name. My question is: why isn’t he in jail too? He conned the girls just like the other two guys.

1 hour, 15 minutes, 30 seconds: Richie storms in with his “evidence” after the judge has made the sentence. Pretty sure that makes it too late.

1 hour, 18 minutes, 26 seconds: Instead of using the footage to make a movie about guys creating a fake casting agency, which is what I thought he would do, he made a trailer that pretended like it was a reality show. Lame.

1 hour, 21 minutes, 27 seconds: Marina takes him back without him having to do anything other than show up. Lazy writing.