September 02, 2010 11:19am EST
When the animated opening credits of Warner Bros. Going the Distance begin a barrage of colorful images envelope the screen shaking and shifting to the sounds of contemporary pop-rock like a hipster-chick in a SoHo lounge. It sets the tone for a lighthearted but levelheaded romantic comedy that like the music is cool and crafty but not completely above the clichés of the tried-and-true genre.
Making her feature-film directorial debut Oscar-nominated documentarian Nanette Burstein (On the Ropes) set out to make a film that as she put it “would feel as real as possible” – a tough job when taking on a studio comedy. But with a relatable premise a punchy script and a cast that possesses a ton of personality she succeeds at delivering a surprisingly fresh film that chronicles the pros and cons of a long-distance relationship between Justin Long’s Garrett and Drew Barrymore’s Erin.
The first half hour is filled with the standard situational set-ups and character introductions that one expects from any film. We learn everything we need (and want) to know about Garrett and Erin: He’s a New York record label workhorse and she’s an aspiring journalist interning at a metropolitan newspaper. They frequent the same dive bar in downtown Manhattan and have a beer and barbeque-wings fueled fling which turns into a steady summer-long relationship. But all good things must come to an end and as September approaches she prepares to head back to Stanford for another semester much to their mutual dismay. However the feelings between them are sincere and they decide to give their spatially challenged relationship a shot.
Real-life couple Long and Barrymore have a few touching moments throughout the film mostly when the trials of their long-distance relationship take a toll but they are a bore in comparison to the supporting cast. Jason Sudeikis and Charlie Day bring frat-house etiquette and bro-mantic charm to the movie as Garrett’s best friends Box and Dan. Together they are the living embodiment of testosterone and man-child — archetypes that have become all-too common in current rom-coms — but with legitimately funny performances they really pay off. Christina Applegate is good for a load of laughs as Erin’s older sister Corinne who is skeptical of Erin’s eagerness to engage in yet another risky romance; she steals the show with her unrelenting commentary.
Going the Distance doesn’t break new ground within the genre or redefine cinematic romance but it balances the sweet and sour moments of its story very well. Burstein minimizes the drama and keeps the comedy raw to maximize the entertainment value of the movie which should please all who purchase a ticket. Somehow the long distance dilemma hasn’t been tackled on film before and that makes the movie appear to be more original that it really is but in a year where so few romantic comedies have brought the goods (The Back-Up Plan Sex and the City 2) Going the Distance does just that.
WHAT IT’S ABOUT?
Dr. Rick Marshall a washed-up scientist whose crackpot theories have been widely derided finds himself and his associates sucked through a “space-time vortex ” and they land in an alternate universe of ferocious dinosaurs and slow-stalking reptiles known as Sleestaks. Their only hope to get out alive is with the help of their new friend a human-faced primate named Chaka who’s trying to get back to his tribe when he runs into this whacked-out gang of nowhere nomads. The stakes are high. If they succeed they will become national icons. If they fail they will be stuck in this “land of the lost” forever.
WHO’S IN IT?
Who better than Will Ferrell to dust off this old Sid and Marty Krofft series the first live-action show to feature dinosaurs before becoming one itself? Ferrell ups the gross-out gag quotient throws in a couple of F-bombs to guarantee a PG-13 gets chased by a T-Rex and plays opposite a guy in a monkey suit. It’s surreally silly but the actor is obviously comfortable throwing this stuff against the wall to see what sticks. He’s helped enormously by the presence of cohort Danny McBride (Tropic Thunder Pineapple Express) who utters some of film’s best lines as a redneck souvenirist who unwittingly joins the journey. Their duet of Cher’s “Believe” is a highlight believe it or not. Beautiful Anna Friel does nicely as Marshall’s research assistant and Jorma Taccone whose day job is writing for Saturday Night Live steals his scenes as Chaka even while being forced to emote in cheesy monkey garments.
Although director Brad Silberling honors the spirit of the original Land of the Lost series he’s fortunately spiced things up considerably with state-of-the-art visual effects and most importantly a cheeky attitude. It’s just good dumb fun and less pretentious than a lot of overhyped summer blockbuster wannabes. The CGI dinosaurs take Jurassic Park one step further and are highly entertaining — particularly the constipated T-Rex who shows a sensitive side and takes on human qualities.
A lot of the comic bits are hit-or-miss and Ferrell and company don’t seem shy about leaving in some well-worn gags that might have been better off on the cutting room floor. Is there an editor in the house?
As Will serenades his colleagues with the theme from Land of the Lost he doesn’t realize a prehistoric bug is delivering a sting to end all stings with hilarious side effects. A hallucinatory drug trip at an abandoned motel pool (don’t ask) is also NOT to be missed.
GO OUT AND GET POPCORN WHEN….
Ferrell starts demonstrating the benefits of urine as a dinosaur deterrent. Ugh! Did we really need THIS?
BEST CORPORATE SYNERGY?
NBC’s Today Show gets lots of exposure in this Universal production (both are owned by GE) as host Matt Lauer (very funny) bookends the movie with extensive interviews with Ferrell’s Dr. Rick Marshall character. Stay through the credits for yet one final Today Show plug that could be a setup for the sequel.
NETFLIX OR MULTIPLEX?
It looks good on a big screen but the studio is offering a deal on the DVD set of all the original episodes so a home theater Land of the Lost movie/TV series marathon is not out of the question.
Set in 1976 an arrogant doofus--who loves booze partying and women--buys an underdog professional basketball team and basically runs it into the ground until he is inspired to take his rag-tag team all the way to the NBA. Sound familiar? Semi-Pro is pretty much a mixture of every other Will Ferrell movie. He plays Jackie Moon a one-hit wonder who buys the Flint Michigan Tropics off the proceeds of his hit song “Love Me Sexy.” and tries to coach them even playing on the team. But he ends up dragging them down to last place with his promotional antics. And when the wild and crazy ABA basketball league--known for its slam dunk contests--is about to merge with the all-powerful NBA the Tropics only have one shot to make the cut. Can they pull themselves together in time? This is an underdog sports movie after all. It’s really the same old Will Ferrell shtick in Semi-Pro. Sometimes it’s hilarious but unfortunately after Anchorman Kicking & Screaming Talladega Nights and Blades of Glory much of it is rehash. Tiresome rehash. Nevertheless Ferrell has surrounded himself with another eclectic crew mixing some old favorites with new faces: old Ferrell cronies include David Koechner as the ABA commissioner and Will Arnett as a Tropics sports announcer while the newbies include Andre Benjamin as Clarence “Coffee” Black the Tropics star player and Woody Harrelson as Ed Monix a veteran player Moon brings in to help the team. Think of Monix as Bull Durham’s Crash Davis who once played in the show but has been demoted to the B leagues. Oddly enough Harrelson actually brings some dignity to the otherwise silly proceedings. Veteran executive producer Kent Alterman who has overseen such diverse films as Balls of Fury and Little Children helms his first feature film with Semi-Pro--and that’s basically how the film comes off: semi-professional. Alterman probably figured he only had to point and shoot which is mostly the case and doesn’t do anything above and beyond. The real effort comes from the script written by comedy veteran Scot Armstrong (Old School Starsky & Hutch). The first half of the film is pure Will Ferrell non sequitur fodder--beginning with Moon singing his hit “Love Me Sexy” (lyrics also included is “Lick Me Sexy” and “Hump Me Sexy”) and the obligatory scene of Moon sitting around with his buddies saying “nutty things because they’re not true.” Then there’s the bear wrestling scene. Ferrell must have a thing for the big furry animals (remember the bear pit in Anchorman?) Unfortunately the outrageousness lessens in the second half of the film becoming your straight forward underdog movie. If Semi-Pro is a huge hit Ferrell won't stop making these movies; but if it falls flat maybe he'll think of ways to reinvent himself. One can only hope.
Jagshemash! (Note: Excuse please any and all Borat-isms in this review. They've infiltrated our vernacular--just like they will yours! Chenquieh.) Borat Sagdiyev (Sacha Baron Cohen) a noted celebrity and TV talking head in his native Kazakhstan is set to travel to U.S. and A. for well make benefit glorious nation of Kazakhstan. With a camera crew and his show's director Azamat Bagatov (Ken Davitian) along for the ride Borat stops first in New York City. It is a nice! Like anyone from a faraway land he is amazed that his hotel room is larger than an elevator and by all the peoples on the subway and by Pamela Anderson. In fact he is so smitten after watching his first Baywatch episode that his mission has changed: He will go to California and marry Pamela and hopefully make a sexy time! Of course he and Azamat will still have to cross the country--in their ice cream truck--to get there stopping along the way in the biggest cities and smallest towns and seeing everything from "vanilla faces" and "chocolate faces" to women who get to choose their sexual partners. If Academy voters had any "khram" whatsoever they'd give Cohen an Oscars invite...which he'd promptly parlay into the opening scene for Borat 2. And who in their right mind wouldn't just kill to see that acceptance speech?! But I optimistically digress. Any breakdown of Cohen's inhabitance of his alter ego Borat--one of three from his beloved Da Ali G Show; he's reportedly set to immortalize Bruno his gay Austrian fashionista from the show next--reveals what is stealthily one of the best performance in years. Before you scoff consider the indisputable facts: In Borat Cohen is (a) pretending to be if not totally becoming someone else and (b) has positively just one take to nail each scene and nail each scene he does. If those don't comprise an amazing performance in the most fundamental sense then what's the criterion? And not to be forgotten in all that Cohen pulls off here is Borat's entire straight-faced diction--from the accent to the word usage--which audiences could appreciate more in earnest if their howls of laughter didn't overpower some of the dialogue but who can blame 'em? Lest we forget veteran actor Davitian (a California native!) has a hand in quite a bit of the madness as well. One of his scenes in particular will be burned into your memory for a long time to come. Oh you'll know it when you see it--it's the one that makes a Steve-O stunt look like PBS programming. Borat is admittedly not for everyone because some people just don't like to laugh! In all seriousness--and more so as an obligatory disclaimer--the movie is beyond offensive and some people will walk out. But the worst thing you can do is dismiss it even if you just skip it. Because underneath Cohen's mustache that puts Earl Hickey's to shame his soiled suit and his who's-gonna-know-it's-faux? Kazakh accent the British comedian is interested not in attacking America but rather in exposing its underbelly that is rarely vulnerable--in other words if he didn't want to wake people up with this film it would've been called Cultural Learnings of Switzerland (which still would've been pretty funny). Thus his intentions while not necessarily educational fall somewhere between hilarity and eye-opening satire--not vitriol. Director Larry Charles (Seinfeld Curb Your Enthusiasm Entourage) must have some stories to tell his grandchildren about the guerilla-style hit-and-run filmmaking that was executed but as co-writer star and character creator Cohen shoulders all the onus credit and death threats. His anonymity and privacy might take some hits too. Speaking of which he is indeed Jewish. Unfortunately for Cohen however he's not also black mentally or physically handicapped gay a female a gypsy a Kazakhstani or an animal. Which is to say loosen up people! Nobody goes untouched here least of all the man perpetrating the offenses.
Phil Weston (Ferrell) is a kindly fellow who owns and runs a vitamin store has a lovely wife (Kate Walsh) and son and has some serious issues with his father Buck (Robert Duvall). All his life Phil has had to endure his father's over-the-top competitive nature and he always falling short of the mark. When Phil decides to coach his 10-year-old son's soccer team he once again goes up against Buck who coaches his own young son on the top team in the league. Of course Phil's team is the worst team on the league but that doesn't matter. Something suddenly snaps in Phil and he sees a chance to settle some old scores with the old man. He starts using extreme measures to try to whip his young charges into shape. They include getting Mike Ditka as an assistant coach (played by the real ex-football coach oddly enough) bringing on two Italian whiz kids as secret weapons and drinking lots and lots of coffee (trust me it works). Phil can taste his first real shot at victory and will stop at nothing to win the championship trophy.
Some of you might think Ferrell's antics are wearing a little thin that maybe he's a little overrated and overexposed. But I'm not one of them. Ferrell could read a telephone book and I'd laugh. So watching him once again play a hapless bighearted loser--who is pushed to the edge so much so that he berates children calls the formidable Ditka a "Juice-box boy" and melts right on down to the nub--is another treat for me. Of course much like Walter Matthau in Bad News Bears Ferrell has some help from his younger costars. The misfit soccer team includes all the different types: a diminutive fireplug (Elliot Cho) whose lesbian mothers (played hilariously by Rachael Harris and Laura Kightlinger) keep insisting is "shy"; a wisecracker (Steven Anthony Lawrence) with a serious overbite; and of course Phil's own sweet son Sam (Dylan McLaughlin) who just wants to have fun. Ditka also seems to be having a good time in all his bullying glory. Duvall however doesn't really have much to do except throw his weight around a bit--and perhaps relive some of his The Great Santini moments.
Kicking & Screaming has a couple of things going for it. The father-son and underdog themes are tried and true plot contrivances that inherently work because of the ultimate payoffs. Director Jesse Dylan (American Wedding) along with the writing team of Leo Benvenuti and Steve Rudnick (The Santa Clause) knows this and exploit the machinations to their fullest capabilities. You want Phil's team to win at any costs but of course you want them all to learn a big lesson. Ho hum. Unlike the charming Parenthood or the irreverent Bad News Bears Kicking & Screaming unfortunately caters to the formulaic a tad too much. Save for a few comic bursts from its lead player it never really finds its own individuality.
Is anything more frightening than realizing that a desperate and hackneyed sequel to a desperate and hackneyed parody required the work of seven writers? Yes seven writers including brothers Shawn and Marlon Wayans. Perhaps one group of writers divided their time poking fun at the latest pop culture phenomenons while the other group concocted new and disgusting ways to drench their cast in vomit urine excretion and semen. The result: a tired tasteless and uninspired send-up of The Exorcist and The Haunting complete with jibes at Nike's new Stomp-inspired basketball commercials and the Florida presidential election fiasco. Our heroes-plus some fresh meat--spend the night in the haunted Hell House as part of an experiment conducted by mad professor Tim Curry. Naturally they find themselves tormented by the ghost of the house. Cue sexual humiliations mutilations and giant wedgies.
So the sequel ignores the fact that some of its cast members perished or were implicated in the first film's murders. Were you expecting a semblance of logic to permeate the proceedings? Anna Faris as the virginal Cindy; Marlon Wayans as pothead Shorty; Shawn Wayans as the closeted gay Ray; and Regina Hall as the pushy Brenda return. They are joined by Tori Spelling wasted as a coed obsessed with her ghostly host; Curry hammy as the professor willing to sacrifice his students; David Cross hysterical as Curry's wheelchair-bound assistant whose self-reliance causes more problems than necessary; and Chris Elliott a hoot as the mansion's caretaker whose withered left hand generates more laughs than almost all the script's woeful cracks at satirizing its intended targets. All prove game especially Faris who finds herself up to her neck in all kinds of nasty goo in the name of comedy.
If only director Keenen Ivory Wayans made an effort to be funny rather than just shocking. He seems intent on making the sequel so much more outrageous than his first film that he forgets to make us laugh for the right reasons. The chuckles mask the slight disgust at seeing Faris dripping in semen or Shawn Wayans sodomizing a demonic clown (but the sight of Cross fellating himself is an amusing way to emphasize his character's doggedness). Wayans' attempts at parodying What Lies Beneath and Hannibal flounder but he does a fine job sending up John Woo's dove-filled climax to Mission: Impossible 2. There's nothing more lazy than tearing into The Exorcist--it's 28 years old!--and it's sad to see James Woods demean himself as a priest with a taste for little girls. Woods stepped in for Marlon Brando whose poor health cost him a reported $2 million but saved him his dignity.