Dan Mooney

After teaming up so effectively in Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost switched things up a bit with their next projects. Wright went off and made Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, and Pegg and Frost co-starred in and co-wrote Paul. With these endeavors, comedy worlds (or comedy continents) have collided, with Greg Mottola, Seth Rogen, Kristen Wiig, Jason Bateman also working on this alien movie here. It’s not quite as good as either of the Wright/Pegg movies – though few comedies are – but that’s also because the pop-culture referencing and genre homage/parody, while still present, is hugely toned down. That might be the lingering effect of Wright’s absence, but the movie’s still entertaining and heartfelt, while saving space for a different kind of commentary altogether.

Pegg and Frost play Graeme and Clive, good friends and British ones who have travelled to San Diego for Comic-Con. While in the American southwest, they keep the mood going and visit the sites that launched a thousand conspiracy theories, including Roswell, NM and Area 51. En route, and seamlessly so, they find a car on the side of the road, lights on but apparently abandoned. Near it, however, is a talking alien with a perfect grasp of English. The name’s Paul, of course, and he needs their help: He has to get where he’s going and he’s being chased by the feds, led by Jason Bateman. With plenty of room in their trailer, they bring him on board and they’re off.

The trio stay an overnight at a trailer park own by the Buggs. Moses (John Carroll Lynch aka Norm from Fargo) and his daughter Ruth (Kristen Wiig) are devoutly Christian, and that’s for me where the movie takes too sharp an allegorical turn. Fundamentalists might take offense to this narrow-minded depiction of them, if only because what is easily insulting enough to be a caricature might also sit too close to reality for comfort. Addressing questions of religion and life on earth and elsewhere seems like a plausible inclusion in a movie like this, but these topics also seem indelicately treated, like the momentum of the film stopped for these folks to be ridiculed. Even if there are Christians whose beliefs are as strong as the Buggs’, as unquestioned and some would say close-minded as those might be, the filmmakers’ criticism of them seems too pointed, almost petulant, bullying who are historically the bullies, and carried forth with too broad a brush. That minds are opened along the way isn’t lost on me, and I can see the point, but it certainly wasn’t made without leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

Still, regardless, I enjoyed the movie. Pegg and Frost always work well together on-screen. Seth Rogen’s performance as the voice of Paul might have been my favorite of his in a while, still funny even though or maybe because he was reined in a little bit. Unlike some of his recent work, I didn’t need any convincing that he should carry the movie. Here, he doesn’t have to, and the film is better because of it. Lynch and Wiig are only ten years apart in real life, so the father-daughter spacing was odd. But Jason Bateman succeeding in playing against type as the all-business chaser of the extra-terrestrial.

There was a lot of talent involved in this production, and it was put to good use. Most of the chase plot was finely if too easily arranged, the message of the movie heavy-handed but successful in getting across if the movie gets people thinking and talking about these issues. Paul even wound up this lapsed Catholic a little bit but thankfully was funny enough otherwise to ease the lingering tension as much as it could.

EDIT 5/4/11: This just in! Read my mea culpa in “Hey! More On: Paul”.

Vis-a-Vis: I’d recommend it with Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, to seek some of the filmmakers’ fingerprints, especially as they all relate back to Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz.

In brief: It’s apparent again in this movie that one of the reasons art exists is to give voice to messages or ideas that would otherwise be too personal or critical or blunt to otherwise transmit. Another obvious reason is because it’s entertaining.

2.5 stars/4 (B-)

Radiohead’s 1995 album The Bends is dedicated to Bill Hicks, and I think that’s kind of perfect. It shows that he was indeed influential, that ideas can change the world, but it also demonstrates a connection between countries, audiences, and generations. Despite touring the U.S. for years and regularly appearing on late night shows, Hicks’ domestic success might be nicely phrased as a slow burn. But in the early 90s, he became quickly and tremendously popular far from home, in England. He died of pancreatic cancer a short time later, in 1994, still a young man, not having been able to thoroughly enjoy the success I’d say he deserved.

This movie is an oral biography of Hicks, his life story told by his closest friends and family, and by fellow comedians. There are interviews, but not so many talking heads: Most of it is actually told through animation, not cartoons, but of photographs. The narrators tell the story as photographs are moved around the screen. It’s more fluid than it sounds, and after a while it’s pretty involving. The device keeps the content crisp while also providing a good amount of humor in a story that does not end happily. In fact, once Hicks’ illness is diagnosed, the animation stops and we hear and see his loved ones directly. It’s a respectful choice and I commend the use of different styles to create appropriate tones and levels of intimacy.

I was very happy to see performance videos as well. Some of this footage is available on other releases, including Bill Hicks: Sane Man, a performance in Austin in 1989, and Bill Hicks Live, a record of three separate performances from a few years later, which I highly recommend. There was footage I hadn’t seen, taken when Hicks was still a teenager. It’s one thing to hear he was talented as a very young man, but quite another to see it in action. The content was age-appropriate, talking about high school and his family, but it was also very funny and showed the burgeoning talents of a perceptive, irreverent but sensitive individual.

The middle part of the movie focused on Hicks’ maturation, getting into drugs and alcohol and eventually moving past them. Throughout, we see his larger concerns, which for many comedians become political concerns. His presence near the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas, to see just what the hell was going on, speaks to a curious man who doesn’t just spout off from a stage but interacts with his world in pursuit of the truth.

One large area of his life that was hardly addressed were his romantic relationships. We see him joke about them, to hilarious effect, but we don’t hear directly from any girlfriends, some of whom I’ve heard he was especially close with. We see one name, Laurie Mango, on a graphic in the movie, but that’s about it. I’m not sure if their absence was a personal choice or a creative one. While showing Hicks’ personal side might have made him seem more vulnerable, more prone to the pettiness of which we’re all guilty, I think it would only have made the documentary more complete, if slightly less focused. As it is, though, his story is told directly, with all the pieces contributing to a certain image of the man, the tip of the iceberg being no less true to life.

A written biography called Bill Hicks: Agent of Evolution was published in 2005. Kevin Booth, Hicks’ best friend and creative partner, wrote and edited it, which itself was a collection of stories from an even wider range of people. It covers much of the same material while going a little deeper into certain aspects of his life, certain habits and predilections. I enjoyed the movie very much, and applaud the inclusion of his comedy in his life story, which only makes sense. However, the book goes where the movie does not. American: The Bill Hicks Story makes no claims on being definitive, but having already read Agent of Evolution, I felt somewhat shortchanged. Nonetheless, this well-done movie is a fine place to start for those less familiar with the comedian, as funny and inspirational as always.

3 stars/4 (B)

For having been off the air for nearly fifty years, maybe The Twilight Zone shouldn’t be my go-to point of reference for any movie that bends our familiar rules of space and/or time. But with Source Code, even more precisely than with most movies, the main character finds himself in an odd situation where, as Jerry Seinfeld once said, “the guy wakes up, and he’s the same – but everyone else is different.” Even better, like many of the best episodes of its eerie predecessor, Source Code uses the technology of its day, or the near future, to tell an unusual kind of morality tale. Instead of the dystopian reality that dominates science fiction (with good reason, because it’s a useful device, and damned cool), the world of Source Code is still threatening but also kinder, those living in it using technology for good, though not without complications.

As I watched, I was happy not to have known much about the movie, again more than with most movies, so I’ll spare you the first-act summary this time. I’ll admit that the premise at first blush might seem gimmicky, better in thought than in practice. The way the story plays out is actually pretty ingenious. As with Irreversible (2002), when the normal restraints of time are lifted, stories find other ways to be told. What might negatively be seen as the dead weight of exposition, in other movies, becomes in this case more interesting to us because, like the protagonist, we’re finding this stuff out for the first time. I’m not hoping for most movies to be arranged like this; it’s compelling because it’s rare. The mystery unfolds naturally based on the premise, and the movie benefits absolutely by this course of events not being forced.

Honestly, the last thing for a while before it in which I saw Jake Gyllenhaal was a Vampire Weekend video – I’m not terribly familiar with his work. I’d say I was pleasantly surprised by his performance. He carries the range from calm/sleepy to intense/angry pretty well, not really letting his emotions get ahead of him. Michelle Monaghan is adorable as always, her character a sweet, steady presence. Vera Farmiga is articulate and sensitive in her role. Geoffrey Wright played against type for a while, then went with it. These assessments might mean little with no real plot summary, but the actors were all solid, and good for them.

This tightly layered movie’s only real shortcoming, to me: There’s an emotional subplot that seems tacked on. The scenes definitely still moved me, and that they achieved their goal means I can’t really complain, but objectively, after the fact, the idea just seemed to me a step too far. The naturalism for which I praised the movie didn’t extend to this thread, which for a slightly futuristic science-fiction thriller seemed to be its most contrived element.

All told, though, I’d absolutely recommend it. In theatres or later on, it’s a good movie and it’s only just over an hour and a half. There’s a logic to it that is deeply satisfying, in the way, oddly, that Twelve Angry Men is satisfying. Incremental steps are taken to seek out the revelation. Layers are peeled back, one-by-one, and being a part of the process is very enjoyable.

Vis-a-Vis: Didn’t see it even once, but Deja Vu (2006) seems like a safe bet. I’m going to watch Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005) again soon, for sure, because among others Michelle Monaghan was terrific in that one. There are elements of The Matrix (1999), though here the philosophy is more practical and not quite so allegorical (or, some would say, pretentious).

In brief: Science fiction, computers, technology, morality, trying to save Chicago, trying to save the world. Quick, fun, exciting, moving.

3.5 stars/4 (A-)

I found it strange at first that, when I was looking up showtimes, Super was called a drama. One quick glance at Rainn Wilson in a homemade superhero outfit calls for nothing less and nothing more than comedy… right? Well, in Super, Wilson outdoes other genuinely funny actors by pulling off both the comedy and the drama, which absolutely improves and deepens the film itself.

Wilson plays Frank Darbo, a cook at a diner. He’s married to Sarah (Liv Tyler) and is afraid he’s losing her. Then he loses her. He seems to be batting out of his league to begin with, as most sitcom husbands also tend to, but the movie gets to that: Sarah’s a recovering substance abuser and took to Frank’s kindness, and things built from there. But Sarah soon falls into bad habits and, even apart from losing his wife to Jacques (Kevin Bacon), Frank’s more concerned for her health. Watching television one night, Frank stumbles across a heavy-handed Christian superhero show encouraging viewers, with this particular episode, to do what good they can.

Looking into this particular superhero at a comic book store, Frank meets Libby (Ellen Page), an exciteable employee who offers some constructive criticism. Soon thereafter, a nearly helpless Frank has a vision in which he is divinely inspired to become a hero himself, a necessary step to effect the change he wants for the woman he loves, and others, too. And lo, the Crimson Bolt is born.

I enjoyed this movie very much, because of the many ways in which I was pleasantly surprised. Wilson’s vulnerability is genuinely moving. So often, sadness is played for laughs, but here the feelings are unironic. Some of the steps he takes are funny but they’re hardly whimsical – there’s a sincere if also violent motivation behind all this. That’s not to take any of the joy away, but to fill that homespun costume with a little bit of heart, too. Complementing, or counteracting, that line of thought is Libby’s childlike enthusiasm. She dives headlong into helping Frank, perhaps mostly because she’s also looking for some liberation. He unshackles his inner strength and she lets fly her wackiness, to a psychotic extent. Ellen Page is delightful in this particular role because, again, it’s a little surprising: The hyperintelligence of many of her previous ones is offset this time by a kinetic physicality.

The tone of the movie and the special effects go hand-in-hand. While some of the violence is hilariously excessive, so much of the gore – and there is gore – is accomplished with as realistic a look as possible. It’s not the results that are over the top, really, it’s the causes themselves. Not to say that there’s a moral unpinning to all the bloodshed, but I’d certainly argue that one core idea of the whole movie is one man trying at once to harness and exceed his limited capabilities. A homemade suit and mostly handmade weapons lead to a level and kind of violence that’s portrayed in a shocking yet surprisingly natural way.

I was pleased how these many pieces, different but not disparate, all meshed together. If I were expecting a straight-up comedy – which it could have been, from the sound of it – I might have been disappointed with Super. But I wasn’t, so I wasn’t, and I recommend it.

(Incidentally, I was also surprised when Ellen Page herself was welcomed out to field some questions after the screening at the Landmark Sunshine on Houston St. She seemed happy to do so, and for a good twenty minutes. Page was well-spoken and self-deprecating and I’d have asked her out for coffee if I had anything at all to say.)

Vis-a-Vis: There’s a Juno connection of course, with Wilson appearing in that for a scene. But that comparison would be more for the marked difference in Page’s roles. I’d offer some words on Kick-Ass if I’d seen it, because the premises seem similar. Mostly, though, I’d suggest Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Scott Pilgrim’s not a superhero in the same sense, but he too will fight all those who stand between him and his woman. Good music, as well. I’ll suggest it also because it’s hyperreal with its many videogaming bells and whistles, while Super is quite realistic, however strange some of the characters’ thought processes are.

In brief: Funny, touching, shocking, bloody. Hits a lot of spots and does so admirably.

3 stars/4 (B)

As a stance, my not really reading other movie reviews is like shooting myself in the foot, career-wise, since I want you all to keep reading. But as I’ve written, it’s only because I want to stay as impartial as possible going in. I do check out the reviews of movies I’ve seen. Generally I see what I can, or what I’m curious about, given a director, an actor, a premise, or word of mouth, which often works well.

Looking to see what was in theatres in these post-Oscar doldrums, I happened upon a very favorable review of Rango which especially applauded the look of the movie. I figured it would be impressive enough as a spectacle to be worth the time and money, so I did see the movie which I otherwise might have skipped, or at least waited for.

For what it’s worth, I’d suggest you do the same.

Rango starts out with a lot of promise. He’s a chameleon, and he’s voiced by Johnny Depp, and like Donald Duck he wears clothes only to be humanized to an incomplete degree. His being a chameleon extends into his being an actor, too, one who puts on plays with the inanimate objects he finds in his tank. We first see that’s he’s on the road, moving somewhere else with the owners we never meet. An accident knocks him loose and he finds himself in the middle of the road, and soon, in the middle of the desert.

The chameleon happens upon a series of wild animals, to demonstrate both his craftiness and the technology involved in creating them all, the results of which are pretty exquisite. He then meets a lizard right out of the late-19th century, and that’s where the movie gets weird. He rides with her into what amounts to every poor Western town you’ve ever seen. As a chameleon, his blending in – really addressed only briefly in imitating some townsfolk – seems not enough based on his being a chameleon, merely being slightly more clever than most everyone else. Other film companies or writers would have fully made use of characteristics of the animal, for humor and for story, but here it seems the boat was missed, or they got one collective foot in and then ended up in the drink.

I suppose this is a kid’s movie, so I’ll overlook the tiredness with which the tropes of a standard yet fruitful genre – the Western – are lugged out. But at that rate, the movie wasn’t as charming as kid’s movies generally are, not nearly as funny, and in parts remarkably dark. There are moments adult humor, positioning the movie closer to Shrek, perhaps. But the combination of present-day America and old West fundamentally prevents the story from going where Shrek could, immersing the viewer in a world entirely, at which point modern references would somehow ring less anachronistically.

I’ll admit again that the visuals were highly impressive, providing a level of realism for me to have to realize every so often that I’m watching an animated movie in which every little thing was designed. Some of the animals were vivid enough to be legitimately frightening – for some viewers – and others grotesque enough to freak out people of all ages, from 8 to 29. The climax of the film is a chase/fight sequence that is stunning, but bears quite a resemblance to the Pod Race from The Phantom Menace, whatever level of compliment that might be. My favorite scene in the film comes at the end of act two: Divulging nothing, I’ll only say that it seemed to contain more heart and simple beauty than the rest of the film put together. This one missed the mark.

Vis-a-Vis: For larger narrative/mistaken hero connotations, I think Chicken Run (2000) is the far superior film in many ways, and much better for kids. For older folks, The Quick and the Dead (1995) might be the most recent analog storywise.

In brief: Much ugliness animated beautifully. Occasionally charming, occasionally funny.

2 stars/4 (C)