For those of you who like me have in recent years come to regard “chick flick” as a purely pejorative term Bridesmaids directed by Paul Feig (Unaccompanied Minors) and starring Kristen Wiig (MacGruber) is nothing less than miraculous: A broad female-driven comedy that is both sharply observed and genuinely funny capable of inducing howls of laughter from both sexes in equal measure. What's more unlike other offerings from the genre it actually respects its audience’s basic intelligence. How refreshingly novel.
Wiig who also co-wrote the film’s screenplay with Annie Mumolo plays Annie 30-something and stranded. Since losing her business and subsequently her boyfriend to the Great Recession she’s resigned herself to mediocrity slogging through a dead-end job at a jewelry store where she labors vainly to conceal her cynicism from the bright-eyed folks shopping for engagement rings and BFF bracelets and clinging to a dead-end relationship with a handsome but solipsistic creep (Jon Hamm) who very plainly regards her as nothing more than a convenient booty call.
Annie’s lone source of relief from the drudgery and ennui is the close bond she shares with Lillian (Maya Rudolph) her lifelong best friend. When Lillian reveals that she’s gotten engaged and that she’s chosen Annie to be her maid of honor at the wedding Annie’s already shaky emotional footing threatens to give way entirely. Wiig is fairly brilliant here (and indeed throughout the film) subtly and humorously conveying both overt happiness for her friend’s milestone and internal terror over the sudden realization that the music has stopped and she’s the only one without a chair.
Lillian’s engagement sets up the film’s main comic conceit: the rivalry of passive-aggressive one-upsmanship that develops between Annie and blue-blooded Alpha bridesmaid Helen (Rose Byrne) a pretty prissy blue-blood who clearly covets Annie’s maid of honor role. Pressured to prove herself against the would-be usurper Annie leads the bridal party into one disaster after another starting with a Brazilian luncheon that results in a violent case of food poisoning in the middle of their gown-fitting.
As you might gather from the above example some of the film’s comic set-ups verge on the predictable but Wiig a comedienne equally adroit as the brunt of jokes or the source of them keeps things fresh and lively – and funny – throughout. I’d be remiss however if I didn’t recognize the scene-stealing efforts of Melissa McCarthy as Megan the mannish potty-mouthed sexually aggressive sister of the groom the bridal party’s oddest — and ultimately its most grounded — member.
At times Bridesmaids tries a little too hard to be an all-female version of The Hangover Wedding Crashers or any of the other films to which it has been copiously compared. The needless intestinal comedy of the wedding-gown dysentery scene in particular serves as little more than proof that women are just as capable of reaching for easy laughs via telegraphed gross-out jokes as men. (I suspect this as well as the film’s overlong running time stems in part from the creative influence Judd Apatow who produced the film.)
Bridesmaids is at its best when it’s not reaching or forcing matters but rather when it puts its trust in its talented cast. The relationship that blossoms in fits and starts between Annie and Rhodes an Irish-American traffic cop played by Chris O’Dowd is heartfelt and its evolution stunted at various points by Annie’s penchant for neurotic self-sabotage feels genuine. Wiig and O’Dowd establish an easy endearing chemistry devoid of the pat screwball give-and-take that so often characterizes rom-com courtships and it helps keep the movie aloft when its comic energy ebbs.
Based on an autobiographical novel by British author Nick Hornby about his obsession with football (soccer to us American folk) Fever Pitch gets a stateside makeover. Of course the term "sports fanatic" takes on a whole new meaning when you're talking about an avid Red Sox follower. I mean it takes a special kind of person to unconditionally love a baseball team that until last year was considered cursed because it hadn't won a World Series since 1918. This is what business consultant Lindsay Meeks (Drew Barrymore) learns when she meets and falls for Ben Wrightman (Jimmy Fallon) a charming happy-go-lucky high school math teacher who also happens to be a Red Sox nut. Since they fall in love during the winter Lindsay is already hooked once summertime rolls around and she witnesses how truly deep Ben's obsession goes. That's OK she can handle it. She's an ambitious workaholic bucking for a promotion and can relate. But really she can't. Ben's level of commitment to the team goes way beyond what she expected and Lindsay realizes she needs more from him than he seems willing to give. Can Ben give up his beloved Bosox--even as they enter into one of the most incredible seasons in baseball history--just so he can be with his beloved? Ah the course of true love never runs smooth.
It took her awhile to find her true calling but Drew Barrymore has finally cornered the market on sweet and appealing romantic comedies. The Wedding Singer Never Been Kissed 50 First Dates all hit home runs. It's because Barrymore plays it smart and finds the right leading guys to connect with and she's got her own obsession with Saturday Night Live alums. First Adam Sandler and now Fallon. For all his juvenile behavior on SNL Fallon actually pulls off Pitch's very adult romantic duties with aplomb even if he still maintains his ever-present boyish quality. The best thing about these two is that they make Lindsay and Ben's love affair and its progression genuine. From the first date during which Lindsay comes down with the stomach flu and Ben gently takes care of her to their bittersweet split after he blames her for missing the best game the Red Sox ever played against rivals the New York Yankees their relationship never rings untrue. It'd be nice to see them paired up again. Maybe they could have a love triangle with Sandler. Yeah that's the ticket!
They can do it. Peter and Bobby Farrelly can actually make a movie that doesn't include one fart joke. Wow. So what do you think it is about Fever Pitch a cute love story that curves dangerously away from their usual broad and outlandish efforts that appeals to the brothers Farrelly? Could it be that they are enormous Red Sox fans? Aha! Apparently the guys had to chase this one pretty hard before the powers that be decided to let these two pranksters handle the job. But they had help. Scripted by another well-known comedy duo City Slickers' Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel Fever Pitch starts off slow but builds momentum. It keeps to the classic boy-meets-girl boy-loses-girl and boy-gets-girl-back scenario but adds in the whole baseball extremist element. To be honest it's pretty darn fascinating to learn about the Red Sox's romantic heart-wrenching superstitious history. But the most amazing thing about the making of Fever Pitch is that it actually had to be done on the fly--well at least the ending. As it turns out during the filming the Boston Red Sox actually went on to win that elusive World Series championship. No one thought it was going to happen. No one planned for it. But it sure makes for a fairy-tale ending doesn't it?
Heaven. Hell. Us humans in the middle. It's all very complicated. But John Constantine (Keanu Reeves) seems to have a handle on it. Born with a gift he says no human should ever have he has the ability to see what he calls "half-breeds"--angels and demons that walk the earth in human skin (and apparently there are a lot of them). Of course the horror of it is too much to bear and Constantine tries to take his own life. But he fails. Now having been to hell and back again quite literally Constantine is marked as an attempted suicide with a temporary lease on life. He patrols the earthly border between heaven and hell acting as an exorcist of sorts. Of course the guy isn't doing it because he feels empathy for the human race or anything. It's for purely selfish reasons. He hopes that if he sends the devil's foot soldiers back to the depths he'll gain some kind of redemption a free get-out-of-jail card so to speak. Constantine's attitude changes however when a skeptical police detective Angela (Rachel Weisz) enlists his help in solving the mysterious death of her beloved twin sister. They end up uncovering a twisted master plan brewing between the demons and angels which could bring about a catastrophic series of otherworldly events. Perfect.
John Constantine is a little like The Matrix's Neo--an ultra-cool but tormented man of little words with a sardonic fatalistic outlook on life who kicks a myriad of nasty-looking demons (instead of a myriad of nasty-looking machines) back from whence they came. Yes Reeves has done this before but that's because he's good at it. You can't blame him for sticking with something that works. Weisz also holds her own as the devoutly religious Angela who nonetheless has a hard time believing there are actual angels and demons running around among us. That is of course until she spends about 10 minutes with Constantine and sees just how real they are. As far as the rest of the humans in the film Shia LaBeouf (Holes) does a nice comical turn as Constantine's sidekick and protégé while Djimon Hounsou (In America) works his voodoo mojo as a witch doctor who has a long-standing if strained relationship with Constantine. The not-so-human counterparts are equally intriguing. Peter Stormare (Fargo) delivers a somewhat over-the-top but devilishly eccentric performance as Satan. Tilda Swinton (The Deep End) dons the wings of the arch-angel Gabriel to whom Constantine is always asking for a reprieve but who has got her own agenda.
Based on the DC Comics/Vertigo comic-book Hellblazer Constantine is demonic eye candy. Obviously inspired by the many music videos he's helmed in the past director Francis Lawrence making his feature film debut paints a pretty dark and moody world with shadowy wet rat-infested (or cockroach-infested) corners that hide the horrific demon half-breeds as well as all other kinds of terrible baddies. Then when we get into Hades itself where the demons and seplavites--a sub-genre of the damned who are sightless mindless soul eaters--prowl it's an apocalyptic landscape. Lovely place. Unfortunately the script isn't nearly as stimulating. It must be an arduous task adapting a series of comic books so to his credit screenwriter Kevin Brodbin does do a nice job introducing us to Constantine and his world. But Brodbin seems to have incorporated too much. As the action escalates more and more plot points and characters are thrown in complicating matters. By the time the long-winded climax is over you're exhausted.