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The success of Ender's Game rests on the shoulders of one grand assumption: that everybody in the audience, everybody in the world, wishes they could have gone to space camp. And for the most part, that's true. The idea of space camp was, even to those of us stricken with cloying vertigo, heaven. We all wanted to don astronaut suits and float through anti-gravity rooms, blasting away at each other with lasers and learning the tricks of the extraterrestrial warfare trade. Those dazzling dreams are the principal meat of Gavin Hood's adaptation of the controversial classic — the majority of the time we spend with Ender Wiggin (Asa Butterfield), we're alongside him in battle school. We're watching video footage of a battalion laying waste to an army of invaders, and zipping weightlessly along in high-stakes games of space rugby. So, through these chapters, we're having fun.
And it's not entirely untethered fun. Along the way, Ender endures the sort of coming-of-age traumas we've seen in every preteen protagonist from Sean Astin to Daniel Radcliffe. He doesn't fit in. He doesn't know who he is. He doesn't like what he's becoming. It's not difficult material to wrestle with, but it's just enough substance to give us a reason for caring about whether or not he beats the Napoleonic school bully in tactical games, or wins special affection from fellow soldier Hailee Steinfeld.
But this story of a growing boy struggling with his intellectual gifts and emotional curses finds itself planted clumsily in the middle of a movie that wants to be about something else. Even if you've read the book, or heard the "big reveal" from loud-mouthed friends of yours who don't revere spoiler etiquette, you'll be surprised by the ending for Ender. Because it comes out of nowhere.
The character's emotional journey is bound so tenuously to the narrative around him that you'll be confused at exactly what is going on when the two collide. You'll question whether or not you nodded during a scene that might have tied everything together, or challenge your own capacity for picking up subtle signals. Don't be so hard on yourself; Ender's Game wants to conquer two worlds (one inside its hero, the other outside its spaceships), but doesn't dive far enough into either to make it so. The script only scratches the surface of its science-fiction backdrop, and only the broadest of strokes are painted with Ender — he's not a complex enough character to warrant the psychological suspension of disbelief that the film eventually asks of its viewer.
But he doesn't need to be, nor do these tasks really need to be conquered, for Ender's Game to be a good time. With just enough of a sob story to ground the movie, a surprisingly warm performance by the larger-than-life headmaster (Harrison Ford) — that is, when he's not standing up slowly and peering in awe directly through the camera — and, most importantly, all the anti-gravity fun you can ask for, Ender's Game works just fine for anyone looking to float free from the world for two hours.
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Carey Mulligan is in talks to join the Universal action thriller Drive, which already has Ryan Gosling in the frame.
Bryan Cranston is also negotiating to join the cast, the Risky Business blog reported. Nicolas Winding Refn is directing the adaptation of the James Sallis novel.
The story, per BIZ, is about a nameless Hollywood stuntman who moonlights as a freelance getaway driver during robberies. When a bank heist goes wrong, he ends up on the run with a contract on his head and an ex-con's girlfriend in his car.
OddLot Entertainment, Bold Films and Marc Platt Prods. are producing. Shooting is to begin next month around Los Angeles.
Producers include Marc Platt, Gigi Pritzker, Michel Litvak and Adam Siegel. David Lancaster, Gary Michael Walters, Bill Lischak and Linda McDonough will serve as executive producers, said BIZ.
Oh where to begin the insanity? Let’s start with a serial killer breaking into two young women’s apartment killing one of them but getting scared off before he can finish off the other one. At the trial of Jon Forster (Neal McDonough) the possible serial killer testimony from celebrated forensic psychiatrist Dr. Jack Gramm (Al Pacino) sends the guy to the gas chamber--even though the lone witness didn’t get a clear look and all the other evidence is circumstantial. Jump to nine years later when Gramm is still celebrated--mostly by the females in his life including a few of his college students (Alicia Witt Leelee Sobieski) the dean of the college (Deborah Kara Unger) and especially his loyal assistant (Amy Brenneman). But Gramm’s cushy life is turned upside down when a woman he knows is found murdered by what looks to be the same serial killer Gramm thought he put away. Did the wrong man get accused? Oh and Gramm also receives a phone call that he has 88 minutes to live. Bad day for Gramm. Bad movie-going experience for us all. Al buddy what were you thinking? At least the over-the-top Pacino plays it to the hilt as only he can. His requisite screaming scene for example has his Gramm trying to “get into the head” of Forster (played by McDonough with all the malevolence he can muster) by yelling all his dialogue at him so the convict will crack. Right. The real kicker is Gramm describing his little sister’s murder years ago his voice cracking with emotion. It doesn’t even come close to sincerity. Pacino is also supported by a bevy of recognizable actresses who probably took the job just to work with the actor but who shouldn’t count this one on their resumes. Witt is reduced to playing wide-eyed terror as she follows Pacino around on his quest to find out who’s threatening him while Sobieski mostly moons over the professor. The usually good Brenneman’s super-assistant delivers all of Gramm’s CRAZY requests with much calm and precision. But all these women seem to have some kind of ulterior motive so which one has it in for the good doctor? I won’t tell. Director Jon Avnet whose best known for helming Fried Green Tomatoes and Red Corner does a fair enough job. There are enough jumps and starts to at the very least keep the action going. No truly the most laughable part of the film is the script by Gary Scott Thompson (The Fast and the Furious). From the moment Gramm gets the threatening phone call to how the killer can find him anywhere anytime with any communication device--none of it makes sense. You can’t even suspend disbelief just for a moment. And the dialogue? Wow. Thompson must have pilfered from all the bad thriller/cop/serial killer movies ever made. Rumor has it 88 Minutes was slated to go directly to DVD but somehow got the green light for a theatrical release. Let’s hope Al Pacino didn’t push for it--that would just be sad.
Oh cruel technology! With so many remote controls for so many devices Michael Newman (Adam Sandler) always clicks the wrong power button. He’s sick of it. The workaholic is also sick of being too busy to find time for his family. On a late-night trip to Bed Bath & Beyond in search of a universal remote he kills two birds with one stone. After passing the bed section and the bath section Michael reaches the “beyond ” where he meets an eccentric man named Morty (Christopher Walken) who offers a remote to control his life. No more wasting time or missing out--he can fast-forward rewind and pause; his life is his own personal TiVo. It’s all well and good until he abuses the fast-forward button and misses all the beautiful minutiae of life. Before long he’s old sick and alone and realizes--thanks to the rewind button--that he was never there for his family. It’s a simple twist of fate for Michael but it’s neither his only one nor his simplest. With Click some Sandler fans may fear he’s veering towards the Jim Carrey path of gradually more earnest roles. No fear necessary however for this is not Carrey’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (similar as the broad existential strokes may be) and it’s not even Punch-Drunk Love. It’s merely light tear-jerking Sandler-style. He does prove in addition to his beaten-path shtick-y performance that he has some drama in him after all these years--which may or may not foretell more serious roles down the road. But there’s still an abundance of his trademark goofiness to go around. As Sandler’s onscreen wife Kate Beckinsale might go unnoticed if not for her scene-stealing beauty. Her interplay with Sandler is husband-wife cute if nothing else. Consistently funny supporting turns from Walken and David Hasselhoff--as Sandler’s jerk of a boss--provide the usual semi-big names that Sandler movies typically boast. Click is a high-concept film--too bad it’s all “summer-ed” up (or down) because film might be the best medium to explore such a fascinating and potentially deep notion. But this is summertime Sandler after all and who better to keep the serious stuff from getting too serious than Sandler’s pal/collaborator (and director of The Waterboy and The Wedding Singer) Frank Coraci? The director has the Sandler fan base at heart and the result is thus decidedly unsubtle and not always pretty for a movie that should’ve in all honesty gone with more gusto towards the morose undertones the story puts into place--though the director at least didn’t completely steer away from dramatic elements. The usual goods are still here (i.e. fart jokes Sandler’s at times hilarious yapping) but the pivotal flashbacks and life themes feel crammed adding to the movie’s general unevenness. Bruce Almighty writers Steve Koren and Adam O’Keefe add their supernatural twist to straightforward comedy but they fail to produce anything beyond a slightly less-funny Bruce with a side of Multiplicity and Mr. Destiny.
Stylist Patricia Field has quit the film adaptation of bestseller The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing after clashing with the movie's star, Alec Baldwin.
The former Sex and the City costume designer walked out of the Marc Klein-directed comedy on Friday, according to the New York Daily News.
While Field refuses to publicly discuss her feelings for the actor, Baldwin blasts, "When Pat left, virtually everybody on the film was relieved.
"She is a cranky, miserably unhappy woman, and I'm actually one of the few people on the set that actually gave Pat a chance.
"I did my job, which was to say 'yes,' 'no,' 'yes,' 'no.' I never had an argument with Pat."
The film's producer, Linda McDonough, adds, "The situation was strictly one of creative differences, not an unusual aspect of this business, and the producers find Alec Baldwin to be a consummate professional with sophisticated tastes.
"Patricia has outrageously singled out Alec, when the producers and the director found her tastes to be inappropriate for this classy film."
However, Field laments, "I'm not interested in fighting. I don't want to be spending my time on negativity. Working is not a problem. I have a lot of work, thank God. Life is short. You want to enjoy each day."
In April, actress Jan Maxwell quit the New York theatre production of Entertaining Mr. Sloane after clashing with her co-star Baldwin. She is currently suing the actor for creating an "unhealthy and oppressive situation onstage and off."
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When retired U.S. Special Forces Soldier Chris Vaughn (Johnson) returns to Kipsat County Wash. it's only to find his hometown overrun with crime drugs and violence. The old mill where Chris's father (John Beasley) worked for most of his life is closed and the town's only thriving industry is the Wild Cherry casino. Even Chris' high school sweetie Deni (Ashley Scott) couldn't resist the Wild Cherry's lure; she's become a peepshow dancer to "pay the bills." But Chris really loses it when he discovers the casino's dealers are using loaded dice--and he starts a brawl that ends with the security team carving up his chest and abdomen with a rusty Exacto knife. Chris also learns that that his old high school rival the casino's owner Jay Hamilton (Neal McDonough) has transformed the mill into a crystal meth lab and is using the casino's menacing security staff to sell the drugs to innocent kids. Chris strikes back by running for sheriff firing the entire police department on his first day and with the help of a cedar two-by-four and his deputy and buddy Ray Templeton (Johnny Knoxville) restores peace to the Pacific Northwest.
Johnson looking buffer than ever is well cast in the role of Chris: He's a fearless and determined soldier with beyond-human fighting skills. But while the film takes advantage of Johnson's brawn it fails to take advantage of his brain. In last year's comedy The Rundown Johnson proved he was more than a muscle-bound action star; he oozed charm and was surprisingly witty. With Walking Tall he never gets a chance to flex his acting muscles; if anything they atrophy. The only skills Johnson gets to show off are his ability to swing a plank at someone's shins and his unique way of bashing skulls against slot machines. Johnson's sidekick Ray played by Knoxville of MTV's Jackass fame is an ex-junkie who after spending a couple of years in the slammer is content with living in a camper and doing odd jobs around town. With his scraggly appearance and klutzy demeanor Knoxville supplies the film with brief interludes of humor amid the slam fest including a scene in which he stabs a bad guy with a potato peeler. Johnson and Knoxville would have made a first-rate action team had they had more screen time together.
A WWE production with Vince McMahon serving as executive producer Walking Tall has none of the subtlety of director Kevin Bray's last film All About the Benjamins and all the elements of a wrestling match. As with wrestling the film begins by melodramatically establishing the story (Chris and his family's lives are devastated by the mill's closure) and just like rival pugilists who publicly taunt the favored wrestler Chris challenges Jay--not for the world title but at least for control of Kipsat County--in a never-ending battle between good and evil that mimics wrestling to a T. But what's entertaining in the ring doesn't translate to film especially when the good guy running the town is a maniacal meathead. Chris is supposed to be the protagonist who single-handedly saves the town but who's responding to the citizens' domestic violence calls for example when the sheriff fires the entire precinct and spends 24 hours a day casing the casino? Never mind the fact that he has sex with his girlfriend in his office while he's on the clock.
Like most American families the Grombergs are a little dysfunctional despite their amazing loft apartment sensational Apple computers and successful family law firm. Middle-aged Alex (Michael Douglas) is what his son Asher (Cameron Douglas) calls a "soggy cracker": a corporate attorney who's always worried about something he works in a soup kitchen and takes pro bono work to assuage his middle-class guilt over his day job. He also struggles to understand his oldest son who's a failure in college but does well enough as a drug dealer and DJ. Alex's father Mitchell (Kirk Douglas) meanwhile is your standard powerbroker-cum-bored-retiree; he founded the law firm where Alex now works and if Alex's whining is to be believed spent most of his time there while his son was growing up and definitely didn't do much understanding. These three main characters are so self-absorbed that it's not surprising the story of their lives comes off about as interesting as a soup-soaked Saltine; thank goodness for mom Rebecca (Bernadette Peters) who manages at least on occasion to be something other than tolerant and uptight second son Eli (Rory Culkin) a karate champion with a crush on the class runaway a sixth-grade goth girl.
Interestingly it's young Culkin of that other famous Hollywood clan who steals the show with a deadpan delivery that would make Jerry Seinfeld proud. His performance aside It Runs in the Family is notable for its four-for-the-price-of-one special on Douglases: There's grandpa Kirk his ex-wife Diana as the grandmother of the clan son Michael and grandson Cameron in his first role. If you thought it would be creepy watching a family of Douglases play a family on the big screen you were right. It's beyond creepy--it's uncanny in that is-this-real-or-is-this-a-movie kind of way and the acting style is eerily familiar too. Everybody wants to be the good guy everybody wants to say the punch line and nobody wants to take any chances. Still the Douglases seems to take great joy in their own movie and in working together and that brings a certain joy to the audience; despite its pervasive cherish-your-family theme there are moments when it doesn't go over the top and these are charming--if few and far between.
Director Fred Schepisi makes ubiquitous use of several generations of Douglas family photos to punctuate various scenes in the film--usually the ones where we're supposed to realize how much they love each other and learn what family really means. The audience is meant to come away with a nice smarmy sense of the quirky little realities of this "everyfamily " but just in case you didn't get it the characters--like the actors--don't take any chances that might make you question just how "nice" they really are; they resist any real rebellion or risk and there's always someone willing to try to understand if they do occasionally screw up. Aside from making for a pretty dull film it doesn't ring particularly true. For all the actors are really a family they don't seem very comfortable with one another on the screen so their characters' squabbles and heartfelt admissions come off stilted and forced their reactions seem too controlled and their relationships ironically don't give the audience a sense of any real bond between them.