Review of "The Watch"

Ran on Wednesday in The Weekender. Sorry I'm just posting it now, but I've been commuting to New York for a freelance copy editing gig--Mr. Leland is busting my hump over these reports--and my schedule is off. I should be back to myself in no time flat.

You can read the review right here.

The Big Review: "Ruby Sparks"

Here's my choice for the summer's perfect date movie. The review previously appeared in ICON and is reprinted with permission.

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Like Little Miss Sunshine, Ruby Sparks, Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris' long awaited follow-up to their 2006 critical and commercial hit, infuses a bouncy, inherently madcap idea with human frailty. Ruby Sparks lacks the unbridled everyman appeal of Little Miss Sunshine—some may find their follow-up too hip—but it's a welcome tweak to the filmmakers' early formula, one where intelligence and entertainment happily coexist.

Calvin Weir-Fields (Paul Dano) is a young novelist whose career has stalled since he became a literary sensation at age 19. More great things were expected. Ten years later, the world, including Calvin's publisher, waits. Inspiration has not arrived even though the writer sequesters himself with a typewriter in an oppressively white, minimalist home. A woman may help. The two people Calvin sees regularly, his macho brother, Harry (Chris Messina), and his tolerant therapist (Elliott Gould), suggest as much. The latter offers an approach Calvin can appreciate. Calvin bought a dog as a way to meet people, so the therapist asks him to write about how someone else sees the pet.

The exercise works exceptionally well. Calvin dreams of a girl—who previously appeared as a sun-drenched silhouette—approaching him and his dog. A conversation ensues. Details emerge. When Calvin awakens, he starts writing about this bedtime woman—her life, her passions, everything. He even gives her a name: Ruby Sparks. The pages pile higher, and Calvin can't tear himself away. It's a masterpiece. Harry isn't so sure. "Where is this going?" he asks after reading the draft. We find out the next morning, when a stunned Calvin finds Ruby making eggs in the kitchen. After a trip outside to confirm that the tights-wearing ingénue (Zoe Kazan, Dano's real-life girlfriend) is indeed real, the young man is blissful. In creating his dream girl, he has solved two problems. And the best part is, Calvin can control her. Type a line and Ruby can be happy, sad, or speak fluent French.

Harry's question turns out to be oddly prophetic. Written by the 28-year-old Kazan, already a veteran playwright, Ruby Sparks doesn't look at the relationship dynamics between reality and fantasy. And with the exception of Calvin's frantic search for confirmation of Ruby's existence, the movie isn't particularly zany. Ruby Sparks spends its time dissecting the myth that finding the perfect mate solves every problem. Calvin is lonely, and with good reason: He is a moody, petulant brat who wants the relationship on his terms. After months together, Calvin finally introduces Ruby to his mother (Annette Bening) and lover (Antonio Banderas), a warm couple whose crunchy, free-spirited lifestyle the preppy and reserved Calvin abhors. Ruby loves the laughter and camaraderie. He spends time alone with a book, a world he can control.

Predictably, Ruby and Calvin's relationship grows static. Instead of taking a good, long look at himself Calvin unearths his manuscript and edits Ruby down to size. Kazan and the directors never lose sight that hyperbole is at the heart of all this. When Ruby has the gall to ask Calvin to spend one night a week at her place, his keystrokes turn the girl into a needy mess ("I miss you right now!"). Making her happy sounds easy in theory until she has the disposition of a morning show host on uppers. These moves don't feel cheap or easy because the film doesn't cram itself into a genre. Its energy comes from Kazan, Dayton, and Faris' refusal to indulge our expectations. You anticipate an outside threat: a hunky competitor or an angry and incredulous rival. None emerge. Calvin's oblivious fidelity to his sterile, bland world is the threat, and poor Ruby can't understand why she has to live there.

Kazan recently said that she didn't write the script, based on the Pygmalion myth, for an acting gig. I believe her. Ruby is a reflection of Calvin's issues more than a star-making performance, which makes me a bigger fan of Kazan (The Exploding Girl, Me and Orson Welles). She cares about the integrity of the film more than establishing a brand. Regardless, her performance reminds you of the smart, sexy girl in English lit—the one who loved bands and movies you never heard of—whom you never had the balls to approach. Dano's work is more important. He grows more obnoxious as Ruby grows tired of every writer's life cliché. But we never lose our patience with him. The guy is just clueless. Calvin must learn that you have to love yourself before you love someone else. Ruby Sparks' creativity and ingenuity makes it entertaining; that it's a magical reality check makes the film meaningful. [R]

Film Round-Up, August 2012: Goats, Killer Joe, 360, The Queen of Versailles,

In this edition of the Film Round-Up, we have a classic mixed bag. Though I will say that Killer Joe is excellent and marks the continued comeback of Matthew McConaughey, actor. These reviews previously appeared in the August issue of ICON and are reprinted with permission. 


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Goats (Dir: Christopher Neil). Starring: Graham Phillips, David Duchovny, Vera Farmiga, Ty Burrell, Keri Russell, Justin Kirk, Dakota Johnson, Anthony Anderson. Fifteen going on 30, Ellis (Phillips, TV's The Good Wife) heads east to an elite boarding school, leaving behind two unusual, emotionally stunted guardians: his narcissistic New Agey mom, Wendy (Farmiga), and Goat Man (Duchovny), a mellow goat herder and botanist who permanently resides in the pool house. As Ellis flourishes socially and academically in New England—and reunites with his estranged, straight-laced dad (Burrell)—life in Tucson fades away. The emotionally needy Wendy takes up with a douchey mooch (Kirk) while Goat Man remains strangely incommunicado, mostly because shipping pot through the U.S. mail is too risky. The large number of subplots plus the lack of a compelling central conflict prevent this coming-of-age tale from gaining momentum. Just when we're covering territory we like, Neil, an acting and dialogue coach making his directorial debut, sends us somewhere else. The problem is, I don't think he knows the final destination. Mark Jude Poirer adapted the screenplay from his novel. [R] **

Killer Joe (Dir: William Friedkin). Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Emile Hirsch, Thomas Haden Church, Juno Temple, Gina Gershon. In debt to the wrong people, Texas dirtbag Chris (Hirsch) hatches a plan to make amends. The beneficiary of his mother's $50,000 life insurance policy is his little sister, Dottie (Temple). Kill mom, whom no one will miss, and everybody gets a share, including Chris's moron father (Church) and shrewish stepmother (Gershon). To perform the act, the cash-strapped Chris hires crooked Dallas detective Joe Cooper (McConaughey), who takes the child-like Dottie as a "retainer" for his services. And things get complicated (and delightfully weirder) in this atmospheric, really dark comedy featuring a stunning, coiled spring performance from McConaughey, who has spent a good portion of 2012 reminding us that his charisma has value beyond intolerable romantic comedies. Directed with gothic flair by Friedkin (The French Connection), this white trash film noir masterpiece doesn't have a lick of pretension. Pulitzer Prize winning playwright Tracy Letts wrote the script, which is based on his off-Broadway play. [NC-17] ***1/2  

360 (Dir: Fernando Meirelles). Starring: Jude Law, Anthony Hopkins, Rachel Weisz, Ben Foster, Gabriela Marcinkova, Juliano Cazarré, Maria Flor, Dinara Drukarova, Jamel Debbouze. A gigantic international cast participates in this philosophical think piece on connections and life paths written by Peter Morgan (Frost/Nixon, The Queen). Law and Weisz are unhappily married in London. She's having an affair with a hunky photographer (Cazarré), whose fed-up girlfriend (Flor) returns to Brazil. On her way home, she meets a recently released prisoner (Foster) and an older gentleman (Hopkins) on a fruitless search for his missing daughter. Hopkins' character, now in Phoenix, then attends an AA meeting with a young married woman (Drukarova), who loves her boss (Debbouze), a morally conflicted Muslim dentist. And that doesn't include the subplots involving the gangster's bodyguard, a clueless prostitute, and her bookish sister. Morgan and Meirelles (City of God) encounter the two issues that befall many ensemble films: abruptly ended storylines and characters of inconsistent quality. What's frustrating with 360 is that the gaudy architecture dilutes the power of the film's message. Form doesn't follow function. Excellent performances—especially Foster and Hopkins—occasionally cut through the condescension. [R] **  

The Queen of Versailles (Dir: Lauren Greenfield). Florida's Jackie and David Siegel were determined to build their gaudy version of paradise: a 90,000 square foot mansion modeled after Versailles. (Their current house is a paltry 26,000 square feet.) Among the features in America's largest house: 10 kitchens, a ballroom, and a baseball field, which is totally practical since it doubles as a parking lot. Then, the stock market took its awful tumble, decimating David's time-share empire and causing the family to make sacrifices. "They might actually have to go to college," says an exasperated Jackie of her kids' suddenly not-so rosy futures. Greenfield lets her subjects speak for themselves, and she gets material better fit for a Christopher Guest feature. Jackie, now economical, loads multiple carts during a Christmas shopping run at Wal-Mart. The Siegels' nanny is overjoyed to move into the kids' old playhouse. David's solution is to work until he's 150—and he's serious. In this stellar, sober effort, Greenfield avoids turning high-maintenance Jackie and gruff workaholic David—whose marriage strains under the pressure—into caricatures. They're just hopelessly adrift, the result of countless years of distancing themselves from a reality they never planned on encountering. [PG] *** 

On "Magic Mike," Straight Men, and Gay/Female Marketing

A little something I wrote for The Philly Post on why straight men need to get over their apprehension and enjoy Magic Mike.

Guys, honestly, there's a lot here to like--and I don't just mean Olivia Munn's topless scene.

On "Take This Waltz," Michelle Williams, and Her Heirs

I think we'll look back in 20 years and say, "Man, the twenty-tens was a golden age for young actresses." My latest for The Philly Post.

Review: "The Amazing Spider-Man"

Insert variation of "my Spidey senses aren't tingling" in the comments section. You can read my review for "The Weekender"--devoid of puns--here. 

Book of the Month: July 2012

I love books. They're fun, educational, and they give thrift stores a touch of class. 

It's come to my attention that I haven't posted a book of the month in forever. There are several reasons for this: A lack of time. Professional obligations. And the addition of roughly 800 channels to our cable package, which means that I'm watching the NFL Network's "Top 10" at a damaging rate.

So as a short cut, here's a list of the five best books I've read this half-year: either as a grubby professional or in my free time. These are in no particular order.

1.) Father's Day by Buzz Bissinger. For those who only know Bissinger as Twitter's resident crank, oh are you missing out. A heartbreaking, poignant memoir about the relationship with his son, Zach, who has trace brain damage. The most honest book about fathers and sons I've ever read--and one of the best.

2.) This Love is Not for Cowards by Robert Andrew Powell. I compared Powell's work to Susan Orlean's in my review for BookPage. I assure you that it was not hyperbole.

3.) Dream Team by Jack McCallum. The best basketball writer of my generation covers the best team of my generation.

4.) The Fish That Ate the Whale by Rich Cohen. You'll gain a new respect for good, old-fashioned business hustle. "You're fucking fired! Do you understand that?"

5.) The One: The Life and Music of James Brown by R.J. Smith. It's about James Brown, one of my all-time favorites, but Smith breaks down what made the man so special ("Teeth and hair!"). And he details his love of smack and asses.

Oh, and because this is a movie blog, a quickie halftime report of the best and worst cinematically.

BEST: Moonrise Kingdom, Monsieur Lazhar, Take This Waltz, Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, Jeff, Who Lives at Home,  21 Jump Street, The Avengers, The Hunger Games, The Raid: Redemption, Magic Mike, Jiro Dreams of Sushi    

WORST: American Reunion, Rock of Ages, The Lucky One, What to Expect When You're Expecting, The Magic of Belle Isle, John Carter, Meeting Evil  

Until later, read in peace.