Warner Bros Pictures via Everett Collection
Even without having read Mark Helprin's novel Winter's Tale, I have the unshakable feeling that Akiva Goldsman's film adaptation does not do the story justice. Speckled throughout the moreover colorless movie are hints of an intriguing idea — a fantasy epic about an angel-demon bureaucracy coexisting with the human race throughout the span of 20th century New York City, operating within the parameters of a didactic miracle-granting system — an idea that doesn't come close to its full potential. In 118 minutes, we barely scratch the surface of the world in which an apparently immortal Colin Farrell finds himself. We see him cavort with Russell Crowe, a malicious gang-leader with netherworld origins, seek guidance from a mystical Pegasus, and carry out his destiny as the savior to a mysterious red-haired girl. But we never truly understand why any of this is happening. Not that it gets particularly confusing; on a plot level, it's all quite simple. But that's the problem — it shouldn't be.
The central conceit of the film is that everyone is put on this Earth with a divine "mission" to uphold. Farrell's gives us the narrative of Winter's Tale, introducing the various rules and officers of the supernatural regime along the way. Abandoned as a baby and brought up under the criminal regime of a Manhattanite from Hell (Crowe), Farrell ascends from orphan to petty thief to horse whispering renegade to whimsical lover of a dying Jessica Brown Findlay to ageless messiah... all without much clarity on the nature of the story (or stories) he's occupying, save for two ham-fisted scenes of exposition — one with Graham Greene (not the dead author) and one with Jennifer Connelly, who shows up halfway through the movie for some reason.
Warner Bros Pictures via Everett Collection
The world that Farrell is woven into has so many bright spots: we're on board for miracle quests, a magic-laden New York City, flying horses, and one of the biggest stars in Hollywood giving a cameo as the epitome of evil. Everything we see is fun, but it all flutters away as quickly as it arrives. We don't want quick bites of the way angels and demons do business with one another on the streets of Manhattan, we want the whole meal. A more thorough exploration of Helprin's world wouldn't just be doubly as interesting as the thin alternative we're offered in Goldsman's adaptation, it'd also fill in all the comprehensive gaps in Farrell's emotional throughline
We don't really understand so much of what happens to Farrell. Even when we're offered tangible explanations, we have no reason to understand why the Winter's Tale world works in such a way that Farrell might survive a 300-foot fall, develop amnesia, or sustain youth for a full century. What's more, we don't understand why Farrell's tale as a cog in this mystical machine is any more important than anyone else's. Or, if it's not, and we're simply asked to watch him carry out his quest as a glimpse into the vast, enigmatic system that Winter's Tale is ostensibly founded upon, we ... we don't understand enough of that world itself.
Warner Bros Pictures via Everett Collection
We're never invited close enough to any of the movie's attractive features for them to matter. So even when the movie does offer entertaining bits — in its fantastical elements, its detail of New Yorks old and new, or Farrell's admittedly charming romance with Findlay — we're not engaged enough to really connect with any of them.
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Still, the flying horse is pretty cool.
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We all have guilty pleasures. For some of us, it’s HGTV’s do-it-yourself home improvement shows. For others, it’s marathoning sitcoms like Arrested Development or Modern Family on online sites like Netflix from the comfort of our beds. And still for others, it’s the romantic entanglements found in old soap operas that keep us replaying them time after time. Well, earlier this year, Prospect Park’s The Online Network revealed that they would be rebooting two of our most loved soaps: All My Children and One Life to Live. And Wednesday, the network announced all of the cast members participating in both shows.
For All My Children, the following stars have been announced as members of the cast: Sal Stowers as Cassandra Foster, Eric Nelson as AJ Chandler, Denyse Tontz as Miranda Montgomery, Jordan Lane Price as Celia Fitzgerald, Ryan Bittle as JR Chandler, Eden Riegel as Bianca Montgomery, Cady McClain as Dixie Cooney, Ray MacDonnell as Dr. Joe Martin, David Canary as Adam Chandler, Heather Roop as Jane McIntyre, and Francesca James as Evelyn Johnson. Previously announced members include Darnell Williams as Jesse Hubbard, Debbi Morgan as Dr. Angela Hubbard, Vincent Irizarry as Dr. David Hayward, Lindsay Hartley as Cara Martin, Jordi Vilasuso as Griffin Castillo, Jill Larson as Opal Cortlandt, and Thorsten Kaye as Zach Slater.
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And this is who you can expect to see on One Life to Live: Robert Gorrie as Matthew Buchanan and Laura Harrier as Destiny Evans. These stars join the previously announced members (Erika Slezak as Victoria Lord Buchanan, Robin Strasser as Dorian Lord, Tuc Watkins as David Vickers, Robert S. Woods as Bo Buchanan, Kassie DePaiva as Blair Cramer, Jerry verDorn as Clint Buchanan, Florencia Lozano as Tea Delgado, Melissa Archer as Natalie Buchanan Banks, Hillary B. Smith as Nora Buchanan, Kelley Missal as Danielle Manning, Josh Kelly as Cutter Wentworth, and Andrew Trischitta as Jack Manning). Recurring actors include: Sean Ringgold as Shaun Evans, Shenaz Treasury as Rama Patel, and Nick Choksi as Vimal Patel.
New 30-minute episodes of both series will be launching each day of the week on Hulu.com, where content generally can be viewed for free. The episodes will also be available on iTunes.
Follow Lindsey on Twitter @LDiMat.
[Photo Credit: ABC]
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A kids’ movie without the cheeky jokes for adults is like a big juicy BLT without the B… or the T. Madagascar 3: Europe’s Most Wanted may have a title that sounds like it was made up in a cartoon sequel laboratory but when it comes to serving up laughs just think of the film as a BLT with enough extra bacon to satisfy even the wildest of animals — or even a parent with a gaggle of tots in tow. Yes even with that whole "Afro Circus" nonsense.
It’s not often that we find exhaustively franchised films like the Madagascar set that still work after almost seven years. Despite being spun off into TV shows and Christmas specials in addition to its big screen adventures the series has not only maintained its momentum it has maintained the part we were pleasantly surprised by the first time around: great jokes.
In this third installment of the series – the trilogy-maker if you will – directing duo Eric Darnell and Tom McGrath add Conrad Vernon (director Monsters Vs. Aliens) to the helm as our trusty gang swings back into action. Alex the lion (Ben Stiller) Marty the zebra (Chris Rock) Gloria the hippo (Jada Pinkett Smith) and Melman the giraffe (David Schwimmer) are stuck in Africa after the hullaballoo of Madagascar 2 and they’ll do anything to get back to their beloved New York. Just a hop skip and a jump away in Monte Carlo the penguins are doing their usual greedy schtick but the zoo animals catch up with them just in time to catch the eye of the sinister animal control stickler Captain Dubois (Frances McDormand). And just like that the practically super human captain is chasing them through Monte Carlo and the rest of Europe in hopes of planting Alex’s perfectly coifed lion head on her wall of prized animals.
Luckily for pint-sized viewers Dubois’ terrifying presence is balanced out by her sheer inhuman strength uncanny guiles and Stretch Armstrong flexibility (ah the wonder of cartoons) as well as Alex’s escape plan: the New Yorkers run away with the European circus. While Dubois’ terrifying Doberman-like presence looms over the entire film a sense of levity (which is a word the kiddies might learn from Stiller’s eloquent lion) comes from the plan for salvation in which the circus animals and the zoo animals band together to revamp the circus and catch the eye of a big-time American agent. Sure the pacing throughout the first act is practically nonexistent running like a stampede through the jungle but by the time we're palling around under the big top the film finds its footing.
The visual splendor of the film (and man is there a champion size serving of it) the magnificent danger and suspense is enhanced to great effect by the addition of 3D technology – and not once is there a gratuitous beverage or desperate Crocodile Dundee knife waved in our faces to prove its worth. The caveat is that the soundtrack employs a certain infectious Katy Perry ditty at the height of the 3D spectacular so parents get ready to hear that on repeat until the leaves turn yellow.
But visual delights and adventurous zoo animals aside Madagascar 3’s real strength is in its script. With the addition of Noah Baumbach (Greenberg The Squid and the Whale) to the screenwriting team the script is infused with a heightened level of almost sarcastic gravitas – a welcome addition to the characteristically adult-friendly reference-heavy humor of the other Madagascar films. To bring the script to life Paramount enlisted three more than able actors: Vitaly the Siberian tiger (Bryan Cranston) Gia the Leopard (Jessica Chastain) and Stefano the Italian Sealion (Martin Short). With all three actors draped in European accents it might take viewers a minute to realize that the cantankerous tiger is one and the same as the man who plays an Albuquerque drug lord on Breaking Bad but that makes it that much sweeter to hear him utter slant-curse words like “Bolshevik” with his usual gusto.
Between the laughs the terror of McDormand’s Captain Dubois and the breathtaking virtual European tour the Zoosters’ accidental vacation is one worth taking. Madagascar 3 is by no means an insta-classic but it’s a perfectly suited for your Summer-at-the-movies oasis.
The Football Factory actor Dyer portrays a happily married bigamist in the forthcoming comedy, based on the stage show by Ray Cooney, who also takes charge of the big screen version.
The project also stars Brits Neil Morrissey, Denise van Outen and Girls Aloud singer Sarah Harding, as well as uncredited cameos from more than 80 celebrities, including Richard and Harris.
And everyone involved has agreed to donate their fees to a theatre charity because of their close friendships to Cooney, reports the BBC.
Run For Your Wife originally starred Bernard Cribbins and ran for eight years in London's West End.
Death is supposed to bring a family closer together. But the passing of Daniel and Robert’s father is nothing more than an excuse for these two distinctly different brothers to renew their sibling rivalry. The painfully tedious Daniel (Matthew Macfadyen) is plagued with doubts about his ability to write a fitting eulogy to his father. It doesn’t help that everyone wonders aloud within earshot why his younger brother Robert (Rupert Graves)—a critically acclaimed novelist and renowned ladies man now living in New York—is penning the eulogy. Daniel’s also concerned whether Robert whom he assumes has dollars coming out of his ears will renege on his promise to split the cost of funeral. Daniel needs the money for a down payment on a new house; Robert can’t spare the cash because his living beyond his means has finally caught up with him. Then there’s their mother Sandra (Jane Asher) who takes Daniel for granted while lavishing all of her affections on Robert. And while Robert immediately becomes the center of attention Daniel finds himself dealing with a situation that distracts him from the task of writing his father’s eulogy. His father had a secret double life which a mysterious funeral crasher (Peter Dinklage) threatens to expose if he’s not paid handsomely to keep quiet. And this blackmail attempt quickly leads to the apparent death at the funeral. Too bad director Frank Oz finds himself distracted tying up many other loose ends—including one woman’s efforts to watch over her drip of a fiancé who inadvertently ingested LSD while fending off the advances of her oily ex-boyfriend—to fully exploit the comic potential of Dinklage’s extortion plan. Guess dealing with so many big names—and even bigger egos—on The Stepford Wives took its toll on Frank Oz. How else to explain Death at a Funeral’s relatively star-free ensemble cast? Unfortunately Oz makes a huge blunder by placing the funeral arrangements on the broad shoulders of Pride & Prejudice’s Matthew Macfadyen. After trying in vain to make us forget Colin Firth’ Mr. Darcy Macfadyen treats Death at a Funeral as though it’s based on another Jane Austen literary classic. Yes Daniel’s as stiff as his father’s corpse but the terribly serious Macfadyen does nothing to make him likeable or amusing. Rupert Graves is somewhat charismatic as the prodigal son but he leaves with you the impression that his handsome rogue was written with Hugh Grant in mind. Peter Dinklage once again cashes in on The Station Agent with a performance hammier than the one he gives in Underdog. He’s a good actor but he obviously needs a director who can rein him in. Serenity’s Alan Tudyk—sporting a passable English accent—also shows no restraint. But thank heavens for that. His over-the-top theatrics—which includes prancing around on a roof dressed in just his birthday suit—generates most of the few laughs to be found in Death at a Funeral. The others come from veteran British actor Peter Vaughn who’s delightfully cranky as Daniel and Robert’s foulmouthed uncle. The ladies—especially Macfadyen’s real-life wife Keeley Hawes—are required do nothing more than stand by their men. Or in Daisy Donovan’s case stand in front of a butt-naked Tudyk. Are Frank Oz’s best years behind him? Death at a Funeral and The Stepford Wives suggest the possibility. At least The Stepford Wives had some pep to it but Funeral is utterly lifeless. One of the problems is Dean Craig’s unfocused script which incorporates an overwhelming number of eccentric characters who find themselves in one predicament after another. But you can still detect a wicked streak in Craig’s script. Too bad it’s blunted by Frank Oz’s surprisingly reserved and gloomy approach to the proceedings at hand. The action is almost completely confined to one home ensuring that Funeral feels about as stagy as one of those groan-inducing British farces by West End playwright Ray Cooney. Funeral needs a director who understands and appreciates the absurdity of the situation and possesses the ability to keep his actors on a tight leash rather than letting them spin completely out of control. Once upon a time Frank Oz was such a director. But now Frank Oz doesn’t seem to know what he wants. Worse things never get as deliciously nasty as they could be--and that’s the kiss of death for a comedy that aspires to be blacker than the attire worn by the bereaved. Let’s hope the Muppet man-turned-director has another Bowfinger or Dirty Rotten Scoundrels left in him.