David R. Ellis
2006
As the dust settles from opening weekend, it comes as a bit of a disappointment that this B movie concept inflated to juggernaut size thanks to an obscene amount of hype, didn't irrevocably change the face of cinema. It wasn't even really a 'quality' movie as camp-wary director David R. Ellis posed. Thankfully Ellis is completely full shit and SOAP is the best cheesy, campy, good-bad picture you're likely to see rake in the dough this year.
After witnessing the baseball bat murder of his father by an asian ganglord (check) an extreme sports enthusiast (check) agrees to testify under the protection of a no-nonsense, bad-assed FBI agent (check) hammed up wonderfully by Samuel L. Jackson. In an attempt to snuff the young witness ruthless Eddie Kim packs his Los Angeles bound plane with box after box of lethal viper, adder, and asp (check) upping the ante by driving them nuts with sexy smelling snake pheromone (check). At this point most people are pretty much either in or out.
Once loosed the snakes make a hell of an entrance by going straight for passenger genitals. From pissed-on dick snapping to a serpent-threesome fake breast nipple chomp the initial scares are played up splendidly for crowd reaction. Once every private part is accounted and encountered the film switches tone and turns the tide of adequately and ephemerally rendered CG snakes into an actual menace. Cornball stock characterizations (including, a doting rat-dog mother, a successful rap mogul and his entourage, two innocent white kids, a crass co-pilot, a chinese kickboxer, and a twinkle-toed male flight attendant) take over in their effort to stay alive.
In spite of the film's goofy/unique premise there's absolutely nothing new here. Its a familiar and highly comfortable string of comedy/aciton film tropes and for once it's actually a pleasure to see them. "Snakes on a Plane" will most likely be remembered as a novelty, but its a nice example of how Hollywood can have fun with genre, sit back and laugh at film conventions, and make money for a change.
Actually the film will probably be most remembered for a particularly lovely line of dialogue written specifically for Sam Jackson. Feel free to say it out loud.
Review by Brett A. Scieszka
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Just One of the Guys
Lisa Gottlieb
1985
This popcorn (pillow?) muncher is a nice little piece of 80's teen fluff, walking the line between the vacuous yet wish-fulfilling hijinks of Corey filled flicks like "License to Drive" and the sentimental, well-crafted tear-laughers of John Hughes.
Rich teen/suburbanite Terry Griffith (Joyce Hyser) busts her buns to nab the local paper's school sponsored internship but is rejected due to her dull cafeteria food-centric article. Convinced she's a victim of sexism, and exasperated by her obnoxious Ken-doll boyfriend, Terry vows to win the contest by attending another local high school in order to submit a fresh article - in the guise of a male student...
Terry deals with the trials and tribulations of her ballsy plot and attempts to adjust to being the new kid. Navigating the boys locker room, avoiding a weightlifting yet oddly feminine bully, and evading the advances of an in-heat coed (Twin Peaks' Sherilyn Fenn) are but of a few of the wacky ordeals in store. Terry ends up befriending a hunky loner (who looks to be in his late thirties despite playing a teen role), getting him a date for the prom, and then falling in love with him (of course). Let's not forget the great little brother character thrown in for good measure. I don't care how many 80's movies you've seen. You've never seen a hornier little brother character EVER.
Its particularly important to note that Hyser's "guy" impression is in no way convincing. While a baggy outfit, accessorized to the nines, hides her feminine figure, her goofy guy voice is simultaneously preposterous and amusing, giving the film a nice light quality. One of the film's most interesting facets is the near complete lack of parents. Terry and her beer swilling bro swim in the pool and eat pizza off the dining table as if the palatial California home's mortgage was theirs; Mom only calls to check in twice. Of course a lot of this is necessity, seeing as how its much more difficult to skip school for a week in drag with nagging, clueless parents around.
Amongst other delightfully tacky eightiesisms (the importance of a cool car and the fetishization of American Express) The ubiquitous presence of teen alcohol consumption is played to such a casual extent that its comical. Judging by this movie it would seem perfectly normal for an 80's teen to offer a pal a "brewski" after school. That's real teen wish fulfillment for you.
Aside from a few chuckles provided by period wardrobe and wooden acting "Just One of the Guys" never really finds its step. Often taking itself too seriously to be fun or sexy, and keeping the gender bending squarely in the PG ballpark while playing up other risque elements, the film seems to have severe identity issues. Terry isn't questioning her gender in any way, and any concept of sexism and male chauvinism is pretty much abandoned after the first 15 minutes. What's left is a fairly entertaining romantic comedy that oozes missed comic opportunity. There's also this disturbing bit where the little brother takes off his shirt to reveal a totally ripped, muscle sculpted body with an outie bellybutton. Ewww.
Review by Brett A. Scieszka
1985
This popcorn (pillow?) muncher is a nice little piece of 80's teen fluff, walking the line between the vacuous yet wish-fulfilling hijinks of Corey filled flicks like "License to Drive" and the sentimental, well-crafted tear-laughers of John Hughes.
Rich teen/suburbanite Terry Griffith (Joyce Hyser) busts her buns to nab the local paper's school sponsored internship but is rejected due to her dull cafeteria food-centric article. Convinced she's a victim of sexism, and exasperated by her obnoxious Ken-doll boyfriend, Terry vows to win the contest by attending another local high school in order to submit a fresh article - in the guise of a male student...
Terry deals with the trials and tribulations of her ballsy plot and attempts to adjust to being the new kid. Navigating the boys locker room, avoiding a weightlifting yet oddly feminine bully, and evading the advances of an in-heat coed (Twin Peaks' Sherilyn Fenn) are but of a few of the wacky ordeals in store. Terry ends up befriending a hunky loner (who looks to be in his late thirties despite playing a teen role), getting him a date for the prom, and then falling in love with him (of course). Let's not forget the great little brother character thrown in for good measure. I don't care how many 80's movies you've seen. You've never seen a hornier little brother character EVER.
Its particularly important to note that Hyser's "guy" impression is in no way convincing. While a baggy outfit, accessorized to the nines, hides her feminine figure, her goofy guy voice is simultaneously preposterous and amusing, giving the film a nice light quality. One of the film's most interesting facets is the near complete lack of parents. Terry and her beer swilling bro swim in the pool and eat pizza off the dining table as if the palatial California home's mortgage was theirs; Mom only calls to check in twice. Of course a lot of this is necessity, seeing as how its much more difficult to skip school for a week in drag with nagging, clueless parents around.
Amongst other delightfully tacky eightiesisms (the importance of a cool car and the fetishization of American Express) The ubiquitous presence of teen alcohol consumption is played to such a casual extent that its comical. Judging by this movie it would seem perfectly normal for an 80's teen to offer a pal a "brewski" after school. That's real teen wish fulfillment for you.
Aside from a few chuckles provided by period wardrobe and wooden acting "Just One of the Guys" never really finds its step. Often taking itself too seriously to be fun or sexy, and keeping the gender bending squarely in the PG ballpark while playing up other risque elements, the film seems to have severe identity issues. Terry isn't questioning her gender in any way, and any concept of sexism and male chauvinism is pretty much abandoned after the first 15 minutes. What's left is a fairly entertaining romantic comedy that oozes missed comic opportunity. There's also this disturbing bit where the little brother takes off his shirt to reveal a totally ripped, muscle sculpted body with an outie bellybutton. Ewww.
Review by Brett A. Scieszka
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Scoop
Woody Allen
2006
I'm sure it would make veteran director Woody Allen's teeth grind to hear this but moving his current productions to Britain has done wonders for his stagnating work. Not to knock "Curse of the Jade Scorpion" or even "Hollywood Ending," they are both cute and pleasant to watch, but sometimes it is easy to forget that this is the guy who made "Annie Hall," "Love and Death," and "Sleeper." These are the standards I think he should be held to, he's proven the talent after all.
"Scoop" brings us the story of ace reporter Joe Strombel (Ian McShane) who has just snagged what is arguably the biggest story of his already illustrious career, one involving murder, prostitution, and the House of Lords. Of course Joe happens to pick up this hot item postmortem, as he has recently died of coronary thrombosis and is on Charon's ferry crossing the river Styx. The good reporter won't be robbed of his story however and crosses over to give the tip-off to budding american journalist Sondra Pransky (Scarjo), while she is locked in the trick box of ham magician Splendini (Allen), real name Sid Waterman. Sondra and Sid become unlikely pals and slowly but surely start to unravel the case of the Tarot Card murderer who may or may not be aspiring politician and dashing aristocrat Peter Lyman (Hugh Jackman). Thanks to a thin and humorous ruse, Sondra (alias Jade Spence) becomes close to Peter and starts falling for him. This is proves to be quite the journalistic conflict of interest and not even the appeals of ghostly Joe Strombel can keep her out of Lord Fauntleroy's sack.
Along with "Match Point" this picture is as good as anything Allen's done since "Deconstructing Harry." Where New York's stuffy upper East side provided an appropriate background for his 70's and 80's films it seems that London's ultra stuffy high society gives Allen's scripts a breath of life in terms of modern perspective and locale. Its a milieu that suits his tastes and sensibilities, and tailors itself well to the script. The characters are solid with the exception of Splendini, who doesn't have quite enough personal quirks or affectations to set him apart from any other hackneyed stock role Allen writes for himself. Sondra Pransky is great for light comedy with her eyeglass-bound librarian sexual charisma, and enthusiastic innocence. Its always nice to see a starlet as bankable as Johansson take a less glamorous, even goofy role. Of course this isn't the case with Peter Lyman's upper-crust playboy which Jackman plays as sleek and unscuffed as pressed Gucci.
The biggest flaw here is the tiring relationship between Pransky and the magician. When the faux father/daugther duo aren't crashing countryside fetes to dig up clues their inane banter becomes incredibly repetitive and tiring. Its also notable that the story is very predictable, however its written and lensed so expertly that its less of a mystery to be figured out as much as a familiar story pleasantly enjoyed. As for the jokes, Allen's character only hits about one in three, but Johansson gets a much higher percentage due to her awkward and infectious geekiness. The sarcasm and borderline animosity between Pransky and Waterman is particularly delightful. Its always fun to see an old fogey crack jokes at youngster's expense.
This film is rough and imperfect, but a gem nonetheless. Perfect for die-hard Allen fans and worthwhile for newcomers (particularly dates). Keep an eye out for the casual filming of Charon's boat, its as visually and stylistically reminiscent of some of Allen's best 70's work. The stepdaughter-trysting bastard may be old as dirt, but he's certainly not dead yet.
Review By Brett A. Scieszka
2006
I'm sure it would make veteran director Woody Allen's teeth grind to hear this but moving his current productions to Britain has done wonders for his stagnating work. Not to knock "Curse of the Jade Scorpion" or even "Hollywood Ending," they are both cute and pleasant to watch, but sometimes it is easy to forget that this is the guy who made "Annie Hall," "Love and Death," and "Sleeper." These are the standards I think he should be held to, he's proven the talent after all.
"Scoop" brings us the story of ace reporter Joe Strombel (Ian McShane) who has just snagged what is arguably the biggest story of his already illustrious career, one involving murder, prostitution, and the House of Lords. Of course Joe happens to pick up this hot item postmortem, as he has recently died of coronary thrombosis and is on Charon's ferry crossing the river Styx. The good reporter won't be robbed of his story however and crosses over to give the tip-off to budding american journalist Sondra Pransky (Scarjo), while she is locked in the trick box of ham magician Splendini (Allen), real name Sid Waterman. Sondra and Sid become unlikely pals and slowly but surely start to unravel the case of the Tarot Card murderer who may or may not be aspiring politician and dashing aristocrat Peter Lyman (Hugh Jackman). Thanks to a thin and humorous ruse, Sondra (alias Jade Spence) becomes close to Peter and starts falling for him. This is proves to be quite the journalistic conflict of interest and not even the appeals of ghostly Joe Strombel can keep her out of Lord Fauntleroy's sack.
Along with "Match Point" this picture is as good as anything Allen's done since "Deconstructing Harry." Where New York's stuffy upper East side provided an appropriate background for his 70's and 80's films it seems that London's ultra stuffy high society gives Allen's scripts a breath of life in terms of modern perspective and locale. Its a milieu that suits his tastes and sensibilities, and tailors itself well to the script. The characters are solid with the exception of Splendini, who doesn't have quite enough personal quirks or affectations to set him apart from any other hackneyed stock role Allen writes for himself. Sondra Pransky is great for light comedy with her eyeglass-bound librarian sexual charisma, and enthusiastic innocence. Its always nice to see a starlet as bankable as Johansson take a less glamorous, even goofy role. Of course this isn't the case with Peter Lyman's upper-crust playboy which Jackman plays as sleek and unscuffed as pressed Gucci.
The biggest flaw here is the tiring relationship between Pransky and the magician. When the faux father/daugther duo aren't crashing countryside fetes to dig up clues their inane banter becomes incredibly repetitive and tiring. Its also notable that the story is very predictable, however its written and lensed so expertly that its less of a mystery to be figured out as much as a familiar story pleasantly enjoyed. As for the jokes, Allen's character only hits about one in three, but Johansson gets a much higher percentage due to her awkward and infectious geekiness. The sarcasm and borderline animosity between Pransky and Waterman is particularly delightful. Its always fun to see an old fogey crack jokes at youngster's expense.
This film is rough and imperfect, but a gem nonetheless. Perfect for die-hard Allen fans and worthwhile for newcomers (particularly dates). Keep an eye out for the casual filming of Charon's boat, its as visually and stylistically reminiscent of some of Allen's best 70's work. The stepdaughter-trysting bastard may be old as dirt, but he's certainly not dead yet.
Review By Brett A. Scieszka
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)