I think watching this movie must be kind of like an inside joke, in that you had to be there to get it. In this case, you had to be a high schooler or college student in the 1980s to appreciate the humor…I guess. Maybe once upon a time this movie would have been funny, but I found it to be dull and tedious, with jokes as blunt as a cardboard knife and all the subtlety of a sledge hammer. The few bright spots seemed more accidental than anything, but again, something had to have worked or else Revenge of the Nerds would have probably died a quick death instead of spawning a series of sequels.

In theory the premise has promise: a bunch of socially awkward college nerds band together to fight the oppression of the big-time fraternity on campus. One imagines it might feature lots of jokes about outcasts turning the tables on the frat dudes, jocks receiving a well-deserved comeuppance, and a healthy dose of fish-out-of-water gags. But it’s all so contrived, so thinly-packaged, and so poorly executed that the whole thing collapses on itself.  The nerds are about as stereotypical as one could imagine: Lewis and Gilbert, best friends armed to the teeth with highwater slacks and pocket protectors, are the leaders of the motley pack of misfits who get kicked out of their dorm to make way for the dudes of Alpha Beta fraternity, who accidentally burn their own house down during a night of wild partying.  The nerds are forced to live in the school gym until they find their own house, and eventually band together to form the Adams College chapter of the Lambda Lambda Lambda fraternity.  But darn it, those mean Alpha Betas keep picking on them (just like in high school, which apparently no one in the movie has gotten over) and the nerds decide they have no choice but to fight back at those dumb old jocks who keep ruining their fun.

It’s a setup that seems ripe for comedy, but the problem is that most of the humor just falls flat.  Every one of the nerds seems to have been borne from a checklist of stereotypes, which leaves little room for actual characterization.  In the gym, as the nerds are settling in to their new accommodations of army cots and basketball-induced study interruptions, the asian nerd Takashi (Brian Tochi) asks the slacker nerd Booger (Curtis Armstrong) “Excuse please, but why do they call you ‘booger’?”  And of course Booger simply replies “I don’t know” while he picks his nose.  Oh, I get it, says the viewer.  They call him booger because he picks his nose!  Har dee har.  Painfully obvious setups and fourth-grade-level punchlines permeate the entire film, and midway through I was honestly checking the clock to see just how long until the misery would be over.

Many scenes just reek of sheer laziness on the part of the writers, such as the party thrown by the Nerds to convince the ruling members of the Tri-Lambda council to accept their admittance into their fraternal order.  The party goes nowhere, and consists of a series of amusing awkward moments when the nerds attempt to be social, but it’s not until Booger produces a joint straight out of a Cheech and Chong movie that things start to liven up.  Really?  Is that the best they can do?  With all the ripe character potential at their disposal, the filmmakers take the cheap way out and instead play for the lowest common denominator: laughing at people under the influence making fools out of themselves.  Gee, how funny.

Like Caddyshack, Revenge of the Nerds was probably funnier in its time than it is now, and I fully admit that much of the comedy is probably lost on me–someone who came of age with movies like Ghostbusters, Ace Ventura: Pet Detective and later, Office Space.  And one day my children are probably going to watch them and wonder what the big deal was with those movies too.

Rating:

Comedy Comedy, Computers, Nerds

Watching an Edgar Wright movie is a bit of an experience in and of itself, and requires a certain amount of detachment from reality.  In the vein of hyper-kinetic filmmakers like Guy Ritchie and Tom Tykwer, Wright’s movies tend to be fast-paced and filled with quirky, incredibly flawed but ultimately lovable characters who are just trying to do the right thing.  His style is well-suited to a post-MTV generation weaned on ten-second YouTube clips and augmented-reality mobile applications that meld a virtual world with the real one.  Pairing this type of director with source material steeped in videogame references and indie music seems like it would be a match made in heaven.  And you know what?  It pretty much is.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, like Avatar, isn’t so much a movie to watch as it is a film to experience.  Michael Cera plays Michael Cera Scott Pilgrim, a 22-year-old socially awkward slacker who plays bass in a band (flaunting 80′s geek-cred with their name Sex Bob-omb) and is dating a high schooler named Knives Chau (Ellen Wong).  His life is going nowhere, and his friends are more interested in working the local music scene than going to college or getting real jobs.  With lives steeped in 8-bit video games and indie music, Scott and his friends are content to live their lives in Toronto, Canada, without too many worries outside of (what else?) winning the local Battle of the Bands competition and getting signed to a record label.

But since Scott Pilgrim is an Edgar Wright movie, even this bit of exposition near the beginning is far more interesting than it could be.  The opening Universal Pictures logo is re-done with pixellated graphics and music that could have been ripped from an original Nintendo game.  Visuals of Sex Bob-omb playing in their ramshackle apartment are augmented with anime-style lightning bolts and Batman-style words that pop out with each “one-two-three-four” screamed by drummer Kim Pine (Alison Pill).  Video game sound effects and music from permeate the onscreen action, even if it’s just two people talking to each other.  And yet the characters in the movie are entirely conscious of this hyper-realistic world around them, which invites the viewers to just sit back and enjoy the blissful escape from reality.

Hey Scott, 1996 called. They want their Smashing Pumpkins shirt back.

Scott soon meets up with aloof emo chick Ramona Flowers at a party and immediately falls in lust love with her.  But in order to go out with her, he must defeat her seven evil exes.  Yeah, defeat.  As in, fight, even though Scott has no training in martial arts beyond a couple rounds of Street Fighter.  And so when her first evil ex Matthew Patel (Satya Bhabha) shows up during the first round of the Battle of the Bands, he and Scott immediately jump into a bout that could give Neo and Agent Smith a run for their money.  They fly through the air, landing punches with all the hyper-stylization of Japanese animation, and verbally spar with trite dialog to match.  When Scott lands the finishing blow, Patel literally disintegrates into a pile of coins, just like in a video game.

After this initial fight, the movie pretty much falls into a pattern.  Since Scott must defeat all seven of Ramona’s exes, the rest of the movie is somewhat of a foregone conclusion as we witness one round after the next, each one upping the ante in terms of outrageousness and nintendo-meets-anime-meets-live-action visual overload.  It’s something to behold, really, especially the fight with ex number two Lucas Lee (Chris Evans) who meets his demise in a fiery explosion as he skateboards at near-supersonic speeds down an icy outdoor handrail.  There’s also a nice joke at the expense of vegans when Scott fights Todd Ingram (Brandon Routh, continuing to rebuild his acting career after the disaster that was Superman Returns).  All of it is darkly whimsical and not to be taken with one iota of sincerity, and even though the plot of the movie is about as deep as Wayne’s World or Ace Ventura, it nonetheless contains the same type similar type of disenchanted charm and warm appeal as well.  There’s quite little in the way of actual plot, mind you, but like the Super Mario Bros. movie, the plot isn’t really the point.  Unlike the Super Mario Bros. movie, though, one could probably make a convincing argument for Scott Pilgrim vs. the World as the best video game movie of all time. (And the video game adaption of the movie looks to be pretty good too.)

Basically, if you like Michael Cera, or have ever played an original Nintendo, you will probably dig Scott Pilgrim.  It’s a movie that proudly wears 80′s and 90′s counterculture cred on its well-torn sleeve, but infuses it with a playful energy that feels altogether fresh and new.

Rating:

Comedy Edgar Wright, Michael Cera, video games

I’m sure the story of Amelia Earhart is compelling. The tale of the first woman to fly across the atlantic, who paved the way for generations of women aviators, and who ultimately embarked on an ill-fated flight around the world, no doubt has to be interesting. The events that shaped her life, the people with whom she was involved, and the challenges she faced throughout her storied career as a pilot are probably thrilling, exciting, and thoroughly engaging. It’s just too bad the movie takes the life of this amazing woman and makes it about as interesting as a carpet warehouse.

Part biopic, part adventure tale, and part romance story, Amelia chronicles the adventures of Earhart from her days as a child on the Kansas prairie, seeing planes fly overhead and yearning to be at the helm of such a magnificent and graceful piece of machinery, to the final moments of her flight around the world. But a story is only as interesting as its people, and unlike other tragic adventure tales, Amelia unfortunately sacrifices characters and relationships for spectacle and scenery. It is like watching a live-action version of a fifth-grade report on Amelia Earhart, as the experiences she has and people she encounters over her years as a pilot play like a series of bullet points on a fact sheet. Even Earhart herself is poorly developed, and Hillary Swank does her gosh-darned best while suffering through lines of dialog so bad they could have come straight from the George Lucas School of Screenwriting. A free spirit and independent grrl, she eventually fall in love, we are told, with her publicist George Putnam. But again, the movie continually violates one of the first rules of storytelling: show, don’t tell. Two characters should not have to continually pontificate about their love for each other–it’s like hitting the audience with a frying pan and telling them explicitly that these people got something goin’ on.

Earnart and Putnam, like, totally in love with each other.

Midway through the film Earhart, married to Putnam, falls for author Gene Vidal (Ewan McGregor phoning it in) even though the two barely have more than a small handful of lines of dialog together. A awkward tryst in a hotel elevator substitutes for any meaningful emotional connection, and from that moment on we are supposed to just accept the fact that Earhart and Vidal have fallen for each other. The film jumps from one stage of Earhart’s life to the next with little to carry things forward naturally, and the result is a choppy, uneven storyline that offers little in the way of character development. Not until the final act is any sense of an emotional connection established between the audience and Earhart, and then only because of the impending doom that is about to befall her and her navigator.

Throughout the two-hour run time we are treated to many scenes of sweeping vistas and gorgeous landscape panoramas as Earhart travels the globe, hopping from continent to continent and documenting her journeys on an 8mm camcorder like a giddy child. Hillary Swank fits the role well, as does the rest of the cast, but the source material is so poor it feels like the actors all gave up halfway through and showed up on filming days just to collect a paycheck. Even Gere, whose natural charm and infectious charisma can often gloss over a crappy role, gives a lifeless performance. Amelia feels like the shell of a great movie, which is a tragedy in and of itself. A hero like Earhart deserves much better.

Rating:

Drama Earhart, Flying, Hillary Swank, Richard Gere

When someone mentions this film, some common scenes usually come to mind:  A crazy gopher being pursued by Bill Murray.  A golf bag with a TV and stereo.  Chevy Chase sinking a half-dozen impossible putts.  And of course the visual lesson on the perils of introducing a Baby Ruth candy bar into a swimming pool full of wild teenagers.  And these scenes are, without a doubt, hilarious in their own right.  But the problem with Caddyshack is that the movie as a whole just doesn’t work very well.  It’s more like a collection of short vignettes strung together with the barest of plots that exists to serve as a showcase for quirky stars like Rodney Dangerfield and Chevy Chase to chew some scenery.

I suppose that’s the appeal of this movie, though, and when every individual is a caricature, and the antagonist a wily gopher, it is incumbent on the viewer to not take any of the material too seriously.  But even with a hefty grain of salt, Caddyshack is still a strange amalgam of odd material that only loosely fits together, if at all.  Consider the plight of Carl Spackler, the dim-witted but indomitable country club groundskeeper charged with eliminating the gopher threat that has been plaguing the greens.  He embarks on a series of misguided attempts, much like a character in a Warner Brothers cartoon, to outsmart the gopher but is foiled at every turn.  His Final Solution is so outrageous, yet ultimately ineffective, that it’s hard to not laugh at the sheer spectacle of it all.

Chevy Chase, proving that sometimes a blindfold is the best golf accessory.

It’s not the absurdity of the intertwining stories in Caddyshack that cripple the movie, it’s the way in which director Harold Ramis flips between Spackler and the rest of the movie without any apparent idea of where he’s going with all of it.  The plot wanders from country club to swimming pool to yacht club to suburban homes without any clear aim or goal other than to allow Dangerfield to spew forth a fountain of pithy one-liners or Chase to wax philosophical while hitting golf balls barefoot.  But before I get strung up as a soulless nincompoop who can’t just laugh at absurd comedy, rest assured that this movie certainly does have its funny bits.  It’s just that a couple bits of hilarity aren’t enough to concoct a solid comedy any more than a couple scoops of sugar are enough to bake a cake.

Perhaps my distaste for Caddyshack also comes from a dislike of Rodney Dangerfield, who commands a rather large amount of screen time for no discernible reason other than to showcase his unique brand of what some would consider comedy.  Hurling weak insults like someone with a mild case of tourrette’s is fine for a stand-up comic, but doesn’t work in a movie.  Literally every second that Dangerfield is on screen, his character Al Czervik is taunting, insulting, or dismissing everyone he lays eyes on.  The charm of such a character wears off almost immediately, and quickly turns into grating irritation.  Dangerfield’s character, removed by the barest margins from the man himself, is a one-trick pony who quickly wears out his welcome.

It’s been 30 years since Caddyshack made its way to theatres, and even though it has achieved cultlike status as a solid piece of comedy, I found it to be uneven and, at times, downright boring.  The cast is certainly having a good time.  I just wish it was a party the audience could enjoy too.

Rating:

Comedy Bill Murray, Chevy Chase, Golf, Sports

Warning: this review most likely contains spoilers, depending on how much of the show you have seen. Read at your own risk…

The second season of everyone’s favorite Gilligan’s Island-meets-The Matrix drama left off with several unexplained questions and one doozy of a cliffhanger.  And though Season 3 addresses a precious few of the lingering issues, by the end we are left with even more unexplained riddles and lingering problems.  So much so that the show begins to walk a fine line between engaging drama and self-parody, as the near-ridiculous heights to which the drama gets ratcheted are sometimes too outlandish to be taken seriously.  But through it all is a solid yarn of character-based dramatic storytelling that keeps things from spinning entirely out of control, and keeps the interest level high enough to hold the interest of even the most impatient of viewers.

Whereas the first season was mostly exposition, introducing us to the characters, their backstories, and the island, the second season went a great deal farther into what was actually happening on the island.  We were introduced to the Dharma Initiative, the Hatch, the Others, and the mystery behind characters like the french woman was swept away.  But Season 3 takes things in a different direction, as the group of survivors is now fragmented physically as well as interpersonally.  Sawyer, Jack, and Kate are imprisoned by the Others, and the rest of the Oceanic 815 survivors get by as best they can without their leader while also trying to rescue their friends.  Much of the first several episodes deal with the Others, who become much more humanized and less like faceless evildoers.  In fact, if there is a theme to Season 3 it would be the pulling back of the curtain, as some of the mysteries about the Others are found to have perfectly normal and rational explanations.  Even the mysterious smoke monster becomes more understandable, and we learn of its limitations as well.

John Locke, not taking "no" for an answer.

One reason the series has always worked well is that the dramatic tension is a natural extension of the characters and their situations.  In Season 1, we wanted to know who these people were and how they were going to survive.  Season 2 furthers this idea by introducing new conflicts and revealing more about larger issues like the Dharma Initiative.  But Season 3, partly due to the compressed time frame (the events of the entire season only span a few weeks’ time on the island), tends to fall back on some relatively cheap 24-like tactics to hold viewer interest.  Watching Jack engage in yet another shouting match with Ben, or having an endless stream of people being held at gunpoint unless so-and-so does such-and-such, or ending episodes with cheap cliffhangers tends to deviate from the spirit of the show.  It’s not bad, just unnecessary, and possibly a response to somewhat downward trends in ratings too. (The first episode of Season 3 had almost 19 million viewers.  By the end it was down to just under 14 million.)  What is a travesty, though, is the killing off of some characters, both long- and short-term, that started near the end of Season 2 and continues here as well.  Killing off a beloved individual just to up the ratings or stymie a case of writer’s block is cheap, and it’s sad to see Lost treading down this path.

One of the biggest issues I have with the show is how characters just never give a straight answer to anything.  It seems as though many of the conflicts, problems, and deaths could be easily avoided if Ben and his friends sat down with Jack and the survivors and calmly explained what in the world was going on.  Even the most simplest of questions are met with enigmatic answers followed by a quick fade to the title card or a commercial break.  I still trust that the writers know what they are doing, but there are a couple times when it seems like the reason Jack or Sawyer can’t get a straight answer out of Ben or Juliet is because the show creators don’t even know what’s going on.

Remember Hurley's all-important "numbers" from Season 2? Neither do the writers of the show...

However, when the show gets it right, it really gets it right.  Ben emerges as one of the more complex and characters in recent television, and the exploration of what is really going on with the island becomes thoroughly compelling. Character flashbacks continue to add new levels of depth to Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Hurley, and the rest of the core gang, and Desmond’s penchant for predictions is pretty potent as well.  There is even one character who kicks the bucket right at the bitter end, but in a meaningful and perhaps even inspirational fashion.  The budget is clearly bigger than ever before too, which means we are treated to grandiose sets, large explosions, and a lot more sheer grandeur than before.  The downside to all this?  Some characters are left behind, and by the end of the season if we didn’t have the occasional group shot to remind us of the 40-odd people on the island, one would think the survivors were limited solely to a mere handful of misplaced good-looking mid-20′s SoHo dwellers.

Lost is still one of the best shows on TV, and its rich blend of science fiction, drama, and mystery remain almost as compelling as ever.  But a few cracks are beginning to show around the seams by the end of Season 3, and I just hope things improve a little for the next go-round.

Rating:

Lost Drama, J.J. Abrams, Lost, Science Fiction

Watching this movie is like eating a bowl of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.  It’s not fancy, it’s not special, but it gets the job done and you generally don’t regret it afterwards.  But not every movie can be The Godfather, and not every meal can be gourmet steak.  Sometimes, though, the basics are all you need, and even though New In Town contains not one single original idea, character, joke, or plot point, it’s also a refreshing trip to the basics of lighthearted celluloid fare.  Take Sweet Home Alabama, substitute the classy Renee Zellweger for the saucy Reese Witherspoon, drop the production in the frozen tundra of Minnesota instead of the sweltering heat of the deep south, and you’ve got another in a long line of fish out of water tales that does everything you would expect–no more, no less.  But in a day and age when Hollywood continues to push the envelope of gratuitous spectacle at the expense of storylines, New In Town is a welcome change from the usual and a solid way to pass the time if you’re just looking for a simple, enjoyable movie.

The plot is as basic as can be:  Lucy Hill (Zellweger), playing Stuffy Female Corporate Executive Hollywood Character #16-B, is transplanted by her national dairy corporation employer from the sunny beaches of Florida to the frozen wasteland of New Ulm, Minnesota, in the dead of winter to shut down the local yogurt factory.  Lucy hates the cold, wants to get in and take care of business as quickly as possible, and will be gosh-darned if she’s going to make friends with any of the locals.  And if you can’t tell where things go from there, you might as well turn off your computer right now and cry yourself to sleep, as you have no business reading a movie review web site.  :)

Ah, the classic credit card ice scraper maneuver. Well known by all Minnesotans.

Harry Connick, Jr., shows up to flash a smile and collect a paycheck as Ted Mitchell, the local blue-collar dude with perpetual five o’clock shadow and a rusty pickup to match.  Of course he and Lucy don’t get along, especially since he’s the local union representative for the dairy factory.  But as quickly as you can say “Lutheran church potluck” the two hit it off and realize that true love, or at least fleeting Hollywood infatuation, knows no bounds.

Despite the headache-inducing predictability, the story is enjoyable and there’s enough Minnesota jokes to satisfy even the Coen Brothers.  It’s fun watching Lucy get the hang of a small Minnesota town in winter, experience the joys of hunting and ice fishing, and learn how to appreciate pee-wee hockey matches.  Siobhan Fallon does an excellent job as Blanche, a mentor of sorts for Lucy who goes to bat for her with the locals and even unashamedly questions her about her Christian faith, or lack of it.  I was honestly shocked at this, and could hardly believe a major (or at least semi-major) Hollywood production would take Christians seriously rather than treat them as cheap jokes, tired stereotypes, or easy punchlines.  Blanche and many of her fellow New Ulm residents are serious about their faith and serious about witnessing to outsiders, and I found this to be a supremely welcome change from the norm.

Will love triumph over career obligations?  Will the dairy operation shut down and put all the residents out of a job?  Will Blanche ever reveal the secret receipt for her tapioca?  Such questions are moot, as the answers are as easy and uncomplicated as pouring powdered cheese and milk into a vat of boiled noodles.  But if these items were ever in doubt, then you’re looking for the wrong movie.  New In Town is a well-made, respectable, and enjoyable 90 minutes even if you’ve seen it all before in a dozen other movies.  Just goes to show the staying power of a classic formula.

Rating:

Comedy, Romance Minnesota, Renee Zellweger

For all of the movies and TV shows that have tried to capture the high school experience, it’s rare that one truly succeeds.  Most come off as brazenly exaggerated, overly simplistic, or too silly to be taken seriously.  Sure there’s a few gems here and there, but for the most part movies that attempt to encapsulate the high school experience are far from authentic and easily forgettable.  Same goes for high school TV shows: there’s a dizzying array of shows set in the high school years, and only a couple are anything close to relateable.  But like that quiet kid in the back of class, Freaks and Geeks rises above the bottomless chumbucket of modern TV shows with intelligent writing, deep and interesting characters, and plenty of moments that genuinely ring true for anyone who has ever been through those four strange years of pubescent confusion.

The show is more or less about two siblings, Lindsay Weir (Linda Cardellini) and her younger brother  Sam, who go to the same high school in suburban Detroit on the cusp of the 1980s.  Lindsay is hyper intelligent but, sick of spending her time with fellow nerd herds like the Mathletes, seeks a new group of friends with whom she can just enjoy herself without judgement.  Her younger brother and his friends are social misfits who know nothing of dating, sports, or even pop culture, but try their hardest to carve out a niche for themselves in the complicated social networks of their school.  A cadre of compelling characters round out the cast: near-dropout Daniel (James Franco) and his on-again-off-again girlfriend Kim (Busy Philips), the pair of slackers Nick (Jason Segel) and Ken (Seth Rogen), would-be comedian Neal (Samm Levine), and hopelessly awkward smartie Bill (Martin Starr).  Throughout the season Lindsay and her friends, the freaks, form relationships, get in trouble, argue, start a band, and try to make it through their junior year of high school.  Similarly, Sam and his friends, all quintessential geeks, experience the ups and downs of their freshman year while bonding over comics, late-night TV shows, and trying to figure out the most complicated aspect of any young man’s life:  girls.

Bill Haverchuck, erstwhile geek complete with gigantic specs. Gotta love it.

This brief description could apply to almost any high school show, but what sets Freaks and Geeks apart is the characters and pitch-perfect writing.  No single individual can be pigeonholed, and every one of the teens in the show has multiple facets that display much more than one-dimensional high school cardboard cutouts.  There’s a scene in 10 Things I Hate About You in which we are introduced to each and every single clique at the school:  the jocks, the cheerleaders, the wannabe rednecks, and so on.  Mean Girls similarly divides the student population of North Shore High School into easily-classifiable bite-sized nuggets of social strata, most notably the antagonists of the film, the Plastics.  Freaks and Geeks is far more subtle, and the creators wisely understand that high school, and life in general, is not so easily classifiable. Even though the title of the show seems to create division and distinction, the lives of these students are as complicated and un-classifiable as can be.  To wit: the “freaks” mostly just want to be normal, have friends, and fit in.  Same with the “geeks.”  They just have their own way of doing it.  Lindsay’s struggles with friendships and her relationship with Nick come across as genuine instead of forced, and Sam’s coming-of-age experiences with his friends, the tortuous 50 minutes of daily gym class, and the perpetual pursuit of the hot girl who is just out of reach are as real as anything anyone could have experienced in high school.

Nick, Lindsay, and Daniel, navigating social perils and locker problems.

But in Freaks and Geeks, as with real life, there are rarely simple answers or happy endings.  When Sam finally goes out with Cindy, the cute cheerleader he’s been longing for, he finds that there is far more to relationships than just physical appearances–a fact the willfully ignorant Neal refuses to believe. Lindsay also realizes through the course of the show that friendships and relationships are much more difficult to maintain than she thought, and struggles to find a balance between her old nerdy friends and her new near-dropout pals. It’s a social melting pot that keeps the focus on characters front and center, fitting in situational jokes and lighthearted moments where there’s room.  But always the characters get front billing, and though nearly all the actors were long past the age of their Michigan-based counterparts, they pull off the role of high school students more convincingly than almost any other show or movie I have seen.

Along for the ride is an outstanding supporting cast, most notably Joe Flaherty and Becky Ann Baker, who play Lindsay and Sam’s parents.  Their depiction of not-quite-clued-in paternal authority is just slightly caricatured, but it’s all in good fun.  Same goes for school counselor Mr. Rosso (Dave Allen) who, despite being a burnt-out ex-hippie, actually comes through in a pinch and, like most school counselors, really does help the kids out when they need advice or a listening ear. And then there’s the brilliant Tom Wilson who appears in a handful of episodes as the meathead gym teacher Mr. Fredericks who, like most individuals in this show, really does care for the kids and at the end of the day just wants to be a good teacher.  For all the wounds of those high school years laid bare in Freaks and Geeks, there’s an incredibly warm center to it all, an acknowledgement that while this time in a young person’s life might be fraught with melodramatic social turmoil, life will go on, people will change, and every little thing is gonna be alright.

Sam and Neal, pondering the mysteries of the universe and striped shirts.

Freaks and Geeks is an immensely entertaining, thoroughly funny show, but there is nary a one-two punchline to be found.  Humor comes naturally from the characters just being themselves, and the few situations in which setups are required or outlandish situations are established, such as when Neil takes the reins as the school’s mascot during a pep rally, come across as forced and a little too over the top.  Life doesn’t have convenient setups and easy punchlines, and neither does Freaks and Geeks, and the charm of the 1980s is on full display, from horrendous interior decorating choices to cringe-inducing everyday fashion, this was also a simpler time before cell phones and facebook updates added layers of confusion to an already complicated time of any young person’s life.  The only major letdown of the show is that it is over all too quickly, a victim of network cancellation and a public audience weaned on schlock like 90210 or Boy Meets World.  But perhaps that’s a good thing.  Freaks and Geeks was a flash in the pan, but it means we never see these kids grow up. And perhaps it really is better to burn out than fade away.

Rating:

TV Shows high school, James Franco, Jason Segel, Judd Apatow, Samm Levine

MJV already gave Invictus a mini-review in his Best of 2009/Pre Academy Awards Analysis, but having just watched I thought I’d give the movie a full treatment.  While Invictus doesn’t quite live up to the heights to which it aspires, it contains some genuinely inspired performances and a storyline that ranks among the best of what the greatest sports movies have to offer.  It is an engaging, if sometimes muddled, tale of a scrappy underdog rugby team pulling together to win the highest prize the sport has to offer:  the World Cup trophy.  Directed by the great Clint Eastwood, one of Hollywood’s most storied personalities, the film is as much about Rugby as it is about prejudice, hatred, and the healing of a nation–a task that few directors would be willing to tackle, and despite the movie’s flaws, Eastwood is to be commended for embarking on a project with such a massive, yet still deeply intimate, scope.

Immediately following his election as president of South Africa, Mandela, impeccably played by Morgan Freeman, one of the greatest actors of this or any generation, seeks out a way to unite the country in a way that has never been done before.  While apartheid has officially been abolished, his country still carries the deep scars that decades of government-sanctioned segregation have wreaked on the populace.  Knowing that legal changes cannot alter hearts and minds, Mandela engages in a political calculation of deeply human proportion:  he entreats François Pienaar (a muscled-up, heavily accented Matt Damon ), captain of the Springboks, the South African rugby team, to do nothing less than win the world cup.  What follows is predictable but engaging nonetheless:  The Springboks and their captain rise to the challenge, bond over tough training regimens and shared victories, face a series of ever-more-difficult rugby teams until finally reaching the championship match against the New Zealand Allblacks.  If you can guess the outcome, I’ll give you a hot cup of jack squat for predicting the most obvious of sports movie endings.

"Soccer is gentleman's game played by hooligans. Rugby is a hooligan's game played by gentlemen."

But Invictus, despite being entirely about a rugby team, isn’t really a movie about sports.  Eastwood instead wisely keeps the focus on Mandela and the political ramifications of his election and the cabinet-level implications of his personal interest in the tournament. He also includes several scenes that could have easily ended up in a DVD “Extras” menu, such as Mandela’s security guards discussing protective procedures and rules of engagement.  A bold move to be sure, as the movie does tend to drag on and even lose focus from time to time.  But Eastwood isn’t catering to a Michael Bay audience here.  He knows that the social ramifications of Mandela’s election, which affect every individual in South Africa even up to staff of the president, are the true soul of Invictus.  One of the most poignant scenes, which certainly would have been shed were the film in the hands of a lesser director, takes place not on the rugby field or presidential office, but inside Mandela’s actual cell when Pienaar and his team tour the prison.  And by adding these layers to the movie, Eastwood creates a tapestry that is far richer than just a story about a rugby team.

That Morgan Freeman did not win Best Actor at the Academy Awards is probably a tragedy, though having not seen Crazy Heart I can’t make that claim with all certainty. But his performance as Nelson Mandela was absolutely stunning.  The way he inhabited every bit of Mandela’s character was mesmerizing:  his gait, his speech and vocal patterns, his interactions with friends and colleagues…it is the stuff of acting legend.  Stanislavski himself would be hard pressed to find a greater master of method acting.

As a certified octogenarian, Clint Eastwood has officially retired from acting in order to focus on contributing as much as he can to the world through his directoral skills for as long as he is physically able.  I have no doubt he was keenly aware that the inconsistent pacing and occasional meandering would keep Invictus from achieving greatness.  But the result is a film that, while not as commercially viable as some other sports films, does an excellent job of showing what it takes to shed the chains of hatred and embrace a brighter, glorious future.

Rating:

Drama Clint Eastwood