My mother always told me that there are three things you should never talk about at a party: religion, politics, and money. I think that my dear mother is going to have to add a fourth thing to that list: Anne Hathaway. If you want to divide a room, just bring up the actress' name and watch the venom fly. People do not like Anne Hathaway. They use the word "hate" a lot when they talk about her. And their hatred is vehement, like Itchy's for Scratchy, like the Hatfields' for the McCoys, and Taylor Swift's for every man who she has ever talked to since her 15th birthday.
But just where does this Anne Hatha-hate come from? I never quite understood it. I always thought she was quite lovely — I love The Devil Wears Prada, and the one time I ran into her in a Manhattan gay bar (she's been known to hang out with her gay brother and his gaggle), she was quite charming. So where does all the vitriol come from?
"She's got this theater kid thing where she adopts the mood of every situation she's in — rude and bawdy on Chelsea Lately, poised and 'classy' at the Oscars, etc — but wildly overcompensates every time," says Richard Lawson, a friend and former colleague who now covers entertainment for The Atlantic Wire, who adds that his feelings stop short of "hate." "She always seems like she's performing, and her favorite act is this overstated humility and graciousness. I've known theater kids my whole life. I was a theater kid my whole life. She is the epitome of the bad kind of theater kid."
The "theater kid" sentiment was the reason I got from a majority of people I talked to about why they loathe this particular girl. (I found numerous willing subjects through a Twitter dragnet, most of which are just average Joes and not media or entertainment professionals.) Tommy, 28, from Brooklyn says, "She is the epitome of the annoying high school drama dork. An air of self importance masking all that boring." Megan, 30, also from Brooklyn, says, "Anne Hathaway is a theatre kid whose enthusiasm and earnestness was never reined in, and now she has an international stage from which to project from her diaphragm."
But what is so wrong with being a theater kid? Isn't Hollywood full of people who have wanted to become actors from a young age? What makes Anne specifically hatable? "I should have clarified that it's not just that she was a theater nerd," Abbey, 27, from Dallas says. "I know plenty of people who were into theater that I would be thrilled for them if they made it. Anne just has something that makes her unlikeable to me. I liked her in Devil Wears Prada and I did think she did a good job in Les Mis, but I did not care for her in other roles. I think she is miscast a lot."
I asked what the difference between Anne and another notorious "theater kid," Lea Michele, was and my coworker Anna Brand quipped, "A spray tan." ZING! Lawson sees it as something a bit more measured. "Anne Hathaway is better at hiding her blind, show-kid ambition," he says. "It's still there, but she's pretty practiced at covering it up. Whereas it oozes out of Lea Michele, probably because she's been playing a version of herself on TV for the past four years."
NEXT: Is Anne just too boring?
So maybe it has little to do with the sort of activities Hathaway enjoyed before her 17th birthday after all. "I think she's 100 percent inauthentic and insincere. Nothing she says or does feels real to me," says Sarah, 32, from New York. "And if it is real, she's even worse because she comes across as entitled, boring, and the last person I would ever want to share a meal with." Now, that's two people who think she is boring.
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But being a wet rag is the least of Ms. Hathaway's problems. Time and again, people raised questions about her authenticity. Either she seems like she's too enthusiastic or not enthusiastic at all, she's too humble and boring or she only pretends to be humble and boring, she's too much of a theater kid or she's trying to hide that she is. It all boils down to the fact that people don't seem to believe her. They don't trust the persona that she is putting out in public.
It seems like awards shows are doing her no favors. When asked what Anne's worst moment was, many Hathahaters named her performance at the Golden Globes (maybe because it was still fresh in their memories). "The Golden Globes speech takes the cake. Like, seriously? We should all be making fun of her," says Hollis, 36, from New York. Megan also agrees that the speech was awful. "I didn't buy it and she was incredibly annoying. I wanted her to stop ... and secretly kept hoping the music would play her out sooner."
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One of the common gripes about Hathaway is that she makes everything all about her, even when trying to come off as sweet and humble. And that was certainly present at the Globes when she got up on stage with the rest of the cast for Les Mis' big win and used the time to continue her acceptance speech. And during her Best Supporting Actress acceptance speech, she did herself no favors by calling the award a "lovely blunt object that I will forevermore use as a weapon against self-doubt." The rehearsed self-depreciation just drips off that phrase like an ice cream cone in July.
Okay, now even I'm starting to understand it. When Anne Hathaway is smiling next to (a stoned?) James Franco hosting the Oscars, she does not come across as someone with a lot of self-doubt. So when she says something like that (or "blergh," which many people also thought was her trying too hard), she seems false. But maybe that's just us projecting? Maybe we're thinking that someone talented and beautiful and rich can't have so much self-doubt — can she? She would like you to think she does.
RELATED: For Your Consideration: This Hilarious Anne Hathaway 'Les Mis' Parody Video
Not only is this Anne-amosity unstoppable, but it seems there is nothing that Ms. Hathaway can do (short of getting a new face, new voice, and new personality) to sway it. Ameya, 30, from New York has a rehabilitation plan for her image that he says would make his hatred go away, "She needs to lay low for a while (pull a Gwyneth Paltrow), grow her hair out, maybe start popping out kids with the new husband, take some great paparazzi shots to show us she's human/normal. I'd love for her to come back on the scene with a killer role and surprise us."
Like most intense emotions, hatred of Ms. Hathaway is nonsensical and will probably change with time. Maybe she can wait it out like a bad thunderstorm passing over a boat. But there is one thing that is certain: when she inevitably wins her Best Supporting Actress statue (and haters would lead you to believe that she's already dusting off a place on her mantle), the fury will erupt all over again.
Follow Brian Moylan on Twitter @BrianJMoylan
[Photo Credit: Hollywood.com Illustration]
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It’s not a conflict most of us are new to: the butting heads of an evangelical Christian and an atheist. Of course Matthew Chapman’s thriller The Ledge takes this typical opposition and adds a salacious complication: a beautiful woman. Now with such a ubiquitous conflict Chapman has lots of room to explore more fully the back and forth between these two schools of thought but unfortunately the film only skirts that concept and uses it as a more of a means to an end rather than a conversation.
The film focuses on three different men and in that two different debates. The first pair comes together when one of them threatens to jump to his death from – you guessed it – a ledge. The first man Officer Hollis (Terrence Howard) finds out his children aren’t biologically his right before being called to talk Gavin (Charlie Hunnam) off his perch. Of course as he finds out Gavin is on the opposite side of that fence; Hunnam’s character not only covets but sleeps with his neighbor’s wife. While this conflict of interest for Howard’s character is one of the more interesting aspects of the film it's overshadowed by the clandestine love affair and a slew of turgid inconclusive theological discussions.
As Hollis tries desperately to sort out his own demons and get Gavin off the roof the would-be jumper slowly unravels the details of the romance that landed him there. If he doesn’t jump at noon “someone else” dies. Now it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that “someone else” is Shana (Liv Tyler) the wife of that evangelical Christian neighbor Joe (Patrick Wilson). Is that enough plot for you? Because it was certainly more than enough for me. As we wind our way through this ambitiously complicated story we encounter Joe’s textbook impenetrable Christian ideals thrown right up against Gavin and his homosexual roommate. Oh yes the plot tries to get into that debate as well.
The capable cast does its best to bring the hefty winding story back down to earth and they almost succeed. Hunnam is the weakest of the bunch but he’s really there as a bit of beefcake to tempt Tyler’s sheltered character. The real heavyweight here is Wilson who despite being dealt a fairly narrow character who rattles off the same overzealous discourse we’ve heard time and again gives his performance everything he’s got. Joe isn’t much more than his stalwart religion and his mounting anger but Wilson tries damn hard to offer just a little something extra. Howard similarly lends weight to his character’s story though it unfortunately becomes little more than an afterthought once the romance between Gavin and Shana gets going.
In fact that romance is the most enjoyable aspect of the film even though it begs us to focus on the theological and moral questions at hand. The forbidden love builds awkwardly and organically something so many films tend to gloss over in order to get to the all-important first kiss. Luckily for many of the big questions that go unanswered in the film their chemistry carries the plot along and almost manages to distract us from their lack of resolution.
The Ledge seems to be a case of Chapman biting off more than he could chew. Every aspect of the plot is a worthy intriguing topic but when they all collide in a mere two-hour period it’s a challenge to give any of the components the attention and depth they really deserve.
The story of the most dominant racehorse of all time does not easily fit into the standard inspirational sports flick mold. Such films typically require its protagonists to overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles be they competitive (Hoosiers) personal (The Natural) societal (Ali) or some combination of all three (Remember the Titans). But by all accounts the greatest challenges to Secretariat capturing of the 1973 Triple Crown were not rival horses — indeed Secretariat had no true rival — but a pair of slow starts and an abscess. And abscesses — apologies to dermatologists — simply aren’t all that effective as dramatic devices.
Lacking most of the vital ingredients of the traditional underdog movie formula Disney’s Secretariat is forced to synthesize them. Its screenplay written by Mike Rich and based rather loosely on the book Secretariat: The Making of a Champion by William Nack adopts a conventional save-the-farm framework: When her parents pass away within months of each other Denver housewife Penny Tweedy (Diane Lane) is advised to sell off her family’s Virginia-based Meadow Stables a beautiful but unprofitable horse-breeding enterprise in order to pay the onerous inheritance taxes levied by the state. But Penny her deceased father’s hackneyed horse-inspired counsel fresh in her mind (“You’ve got to run your own race ” etc. etc.) is loath to depart with such a cherished heirloom. So she concocts a scheme just idiotic enough to work betting the farm — literally — that her new horse Big Red in whom she has an almost Messianic faith will win the Kentucky Derby Preakness and Belmont races in succession.
Of course Big Red under the stage name Secretariat goes on to do just that but only after the film subjects us to nearly two hours of manufactured melodrama. Lane grasping all-too conspicuously for awards consideration treats every line as if it were the St. Crispin’s Day speech. Her character Penny exhibits a hair-trigger sensitivity to the sounds of skeptics and naysayers bursting forth with a polite rebuke and a stern sermon for anyone who dares doubt her crusade from the trash-talking owner of a rival horse to her annoyingly pragmatic husband (Dylan Walsh).
Lane isn’t alone in her grandiosity. The entire production reeks of it as director Randall Wallace lines the story with fetid chunks of overwrought Oscar bait like so many droppings in an untended stable even using Old Testament quotations and gospel music to endow Penny’s quest with biblical significance. John Malkovich is kind enough to inject some mirth into the heavy-handed proceedings hamming it up as Secretariat’s trainer Lucien Laurin a French-Canadian curmudgeon with an odd sartorial palette. It’s not enough however to alleviate the discomfort of witnessing the film's quasi-Sambo depiction of Secretariat’s famed groom Eddie Sweat (Nelsan Ellis) which reaches its cringeworthy zenith when Sweat runs out to the track on the eve of the Belmont Stakes and exclaims to no one in particular that “Big Red done eat his breakfast this mornin’!!!” Bagger Vance would be proud. Whether or not Ellis’ portrayal of Sweat’s cadence and mannerisms is accurate (and for all I know it may well be) the character is too thinly drawn to register as anything more than an amiable simple-minded servant.
Animal lovers will be happy to know that the horses in Secretariat come off looking far better than their human counterparts and not just because they’re alloted the best dialogue. In the training and racing sequences Wallace effectively conveys the strength and majesty of the fearsome animals drawing us into the action and creating a strong element of suspense even though the final result is a fait accompli. It's too bad the rest of the film never makes it out of the gate.
Exposition is often an unfortunate but necessary evil in movies but at least Smokin' Aces hammers it immediately. After we are privy to everything two FBI agents (Ray Liotta and Ryan Reynolds) overhear during a tapped phone call at mob boss Primo Sparazza’s (Joseph Ruskin) home the table is quickly set: There’s a $1 million bounty on the head of magician Buddy ‘Aces’ Israel (Jeremy Piven) for squealing. It’s a hefty sum and as we’re then told by a bail bondsman (Ben Affleck) interested in collecting the “reward ” a veritable all-star team of criminal masterminds has lined up to try and smoke Aces--including: the Tremor brothers (Chris Pine Kevin Durand Maury Sterling) a trio of uber-sadistic skinheads; a tag team of feministic hitwomen (Alicia Keys Taraji P Henson); a ruthless knife-wielding madman (Nestor Carbonell); a near shapeshifter (Tommy Flanagan) himself a sort of magician; and the bail bondsman narrator’s two buddies (Martin Henderson Peter Berg) and oddball lawyer (Jason Bateman). Not only is everyone up against the Feds but they’ll also have to survive Aces’ henchmen (Common Christopher Michael Holley) and each other’s lust for the (blood) money. Not that he’s the proverbial “lead”--no one really is--but Piven in his first true Entourage-afforded role is the story’s central figure. Surprisingly deep and multilayered Piven’s performance is very strong and affecting but buried beneath constant rapid cuts to one of the seemingly infinite other characters’ high-octane arcs. Reynolds ably switching from Van Wilder-type roles to cop with a 'tude is the closest thing to a good guy along with his partner in non-crime Liotta who was a perfect fit in the director’s Narc just like he is here. But the baddies are where the real fun’s at. It’s fine that Affleck’s role is extremely short but out of his crew for Henderson (The Ring) to get more face time than Bateman is criminal. Bateman’s performance is quick-witted a la his Arrested Development character but even funnier. Oh well--onto the musician actors: Common and Keys both essentially making debuts simply perpetuate the truism of musicians having a much easier time of acting than vice versa especially Keys who plays totally against the pop-queen image she’s built via music. Andy Garcia also has a small and predictable role as an FBI deputy and Matthew Fox makes a blink-and-you’ll-miss-him cameo.
Writer-director Joe Carnahan picked a bad release time. The buzz-ards feel the need to compare it to the recently Oscar-ed The Departed and hell you'd think Pulp Fiction was just released too with the way Tarantino's name is being name-dropped. Neither is fair and truth is the only similarity is the casual bloodshed and its often comedic context courtesy of Carnahan. The director who burst onto the scene with ‘02’s aforementioned Narc doesn’t reinvent the wheel here but he’s not ripping off anyone more than any other director. He actually imparts a good deal of originality for the better part of the movie blending comedy with carnage at breakneck speeds. The issue of not having a traditional “hero” also has its pluses because you’ll never be able to look at someone’s face and name and predict his or her lifespan. But still the story is where Smokin' Aces falters. The beginning and end seem like pieces of two different flicks and nothing more than stabs at coolness is actually transpiring in between. Ultimately Carnahan’s spunky effort makes for great but forgettable fun; however you get the feeling he didn’t quite want it to be so forgettable.
Nate Johnson (Cedric the Entertainer) an insurance agent thinks it would be a great idea to take his estranged wife and three children to his family reunion in Missouri by car from California. Nate's motives are sincere enough: He is separated from his wife Dorothy (Vanessa Williams) who has custody of teenagers Nikki (Solange Knowles) DJ (Bow Wow) and Destiny (Gabby Soleil) and hopes the road trip will help them bond as a family and with any luck re-ignite that loving feeling with the mother of his children. But everything that can go wrong does even before the trip begins. Nate brings his SUV into the shop to have an 8-track tape player installed in order to listen to his old Motown classics but what he gets is something straight out of MTV's Pimp My Ride although not even West Coast Customs would do something this gaudy. Off they go in their Burberry-outfitted low-rider Lincoln Navigator complete with four TVs and 26-inch Spinners. Vehicle with up-to-the-minute gadgetry notwithstanding the Johnsons encounter every clichéd road trip disaster including running out of gas and needing a pay phone. It's hard to figure out what's more trite--the journey to Missouri or what happens when they actually get there.
Cedric the Entertainer's trademark observational comedy which made him stand out as a cast member of The Steve Harvey Show simply isn't enough to carry an entire film. Cedric is truly the only funny thing Johnson Family Vacation has going for it and he has a few gags that are simply hilarious including a scene in which he bans CDs from artists who have been shot like Tupac Shakur and Notorious B.I.G. from being played in the car. Imagine his dismay when his wife points out that also includes Marvin Gaye "who was shot by his daddy--twice." But the comedian's arsenal of jokes--no matter how witty--do not a story make. Speaking of wasted talent the casting of stunning Williams as Nate's wife Dorothy is quite baffling. While Cedric the Entertainer could be married to someone this hot poor Nate probably couldn't. Nonetheless the quick-witted Williams holds her own next to one of the Original Kings of Comedy. Seventeen-year-old Bow Wow has worked hard to prove that he's not just a flash in the pan--and it's worked for the most part. He proved with Like Mike that he can act but the role of DJ here gets buried in this lousy film.
Christopher Erskin who makes his directorial debut here delivers a mess of a movie despite having squeezed out everything he could from his stars. Visually the sets resemble skits on a TV variety show rather than professional feature film sets the worst being the sequences where the family is in the SUV--almost half the entire film. To wit: you see them driving with the same scenery in the background--it's like in the The Flintstones when Fred would drive past the same palm tree next to the same rock house again and again. You can't help but picture the actors sitting in the Lincoln Navigator prop car in front of a large blue screen windows rolled down with a wind machine pointed at them. Matching the abysmal visuals are writers Todd R and Earl Richey Jones' ill-paced script. The film drags as the Johnson family encounters unoriginal setbacks and the end is not even a payoff; it's punishment. See the film doesn't end when family finally reaches Missouri: Moviegoers must the sit through the actual reunion and the Johnson family's Brady Bunch-style musical performance costumes and all. The only moment of brief relief is Steve Harvey's guest appearance as Nate's brother. But wait! It doesn't even end then--we have to follow the family back home to California.
December 18, 2003 12:55pm EST
Katherine Watson (Julia Roberts) a novice professor from UCLA lands a job in the art history department at Wellesley College in the fall of 1953 and she's thrilled at the prospect of educating some of the brightest young women in the country. But her lofty image of Wellesley quickly fizzles when she discovers that despite its academic reputation the school fosters an environment where success is measured by the size of a girl's engagement ring. Besides learning about fresco techniques and physics the women take classes in the art of serving tea to their husband's bosses something that doesn't sit well with the forward-thinking Katherine who openly encourages her students to strive for goals other than marriage. Katherine inspires a group of students specifically Joan (Julia Stiles) and Giselle (Maggie Gyllenhaal) but newlywed Betty (Kirsten Dunst) feels Katherine looks down on her for choosing a husband over a career. Betty goes on the offensive and uses her column in the school paper to drive a wedge between the professor and the stuffy faculty. But while Betty puts on a happily married face her hostility towards Katherine is actually misplaced anger stemming from her miserable marriage to a cheating charlatan.
Katherine is Mona Lisa Smile's most complex and intriguing character and Roberts is a fitting choice for the part. Like an old soul the actress has a depth that's perfect for a character like Katherine who's enlightened and ahead of her time. But Katherine never emotionally connects with any of her students which isn't surprising since they're so bitchy and self-absorbed. Perhaps more time should have been spent developing the young women's characters and building their relationships with Katherine sooner but as it is the underdeveloped friendships between the women will leave viewers feeling indifferent rather than inspired. The worst of the bunch is Dunst's character Betty who is intent on making everyone around her feel unworthy. She has her reasons of course but they're revealed so late in the story that it's hard to suddenly empathize with her after having spent three-quarters of the film hating her guts. Stiles' character Joan is perhaps the most congenial but like Betty she never develops a strong bond with her teacher. The most "liberal" of the girls is Giselle played by Gyllenhaal but the character suffers the same burden as the rest: She's unlikable. Giselle's penchant for sleeping with professors and married men is so odious that not even her 11th hour broken-home story can salvage her character.
While Mona Lisa's smile in Leonardo da Vinci's famous painting has often been described as subtle director Mike Newell's star-studded drama is anything but that; Mona Lisa Smile is so heavy-handed that unlike the painting for which it was named there is nothing left for moviegoers to ponder or debate. The film plays like a montage of '50s ideological iconography: A school nurse gets fired for dispensing birth control; a teacher refers to Lucille Ball as a "communist"; Betty's prayers are answered when she gets what every woman dreams of--a washer and dryer. But the film's critical insight into '50s culture isn't as shocking as it thinks it is and the way it highlights feminist issues is as uninspired as trivial as a fine-art reproduction. Newell also spends too much time basking in the aura of the '50s era focusing on countless parties dances and weddings sequences that while visually ambitious are superfluous. The film may be historically accurate but its characters story and message will leave moviegoers feeling empty. A climactic scene for example in which Katherine's students ride their bikes alongside her car as a show of support comes across as a tool to evoke sentiment that just doesn't exist.