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erin1786
Reviews
Alexander (2004)
By the beard of Zeus, this is vile.
In a word, this film is putrid. I spent most of the film making such horrified exclamations as "No! No!" and "Oh dear God!" I understand the great Hollywood epics of historical figures tend to ignore the concept of "historically accurate," but this picture committed new leaps and bounds by ignoring logic and sanity. Now, mind you, this is an Oliver Stone film with millions of dollars behind it and an all-star cast. But big names and beacoup budgets do not a good movie make.
We begin in merry old emerald isle famous for beer, redheads, and a Blarney Stone. However, this picture decides to call this place "Greece." We are supposed to think nothing of those ancient Mediterranean's dropping a "lad" and "arse" on occasion. For some more fun, we throw in a few Brits and Americans. And as a real cherry topper, Angelina Jolie, perpetually youthful, comes in wearing a toga and sounding like a Russian mail order bride with an unexplained snake fetish. I presumed that as the film made its random time jumps Ms. Jolie might sport a gray hair or two. No such luck. Alexander, whether essayed by be- wigged young boys or Colin Farrell, prances about in a platinum blonde 1970's shag that would make Farrah Fawcett green with envy. And, of course, the rest of the Greeks must be cycloptic--to keep in with those myths, I suppose. Among the battle-scarred is Alexander's father, the king of Macedonia, who appears to be no more than the BC equivalent of a slovenly barfly. And shall we not forget the whole of the Persian empire and the fortune they have invested in eyeliner?
But I digress.
Alexander also holds the title for the most clichéd, banal, fist-eatingly horrendous dialogue, nearly all of which is relegated to "profound" statements. I can take a wise verse here and there, but to have entire conversations made up of trite aphorisms is absolutely ridiculous. To paraphrase: "A man can achieve glory." "Yes, but to achieve his glory, he must suffer." "But in suffering, there is truth." "But in that truth there is a heavy price." "But with that heavy price comes greatness." Repeat ad nauseum while staring off at nothing. Because we all walk around spouting off pithy sayings all the live long day. And then we cry. A lot.
For the battle scenes, Mr. Stone decided it would be fun to have a jerky, bloody, CGI madhouse in which I think he just blindly threw the cameras into and hoped for the best. Alexander rides around on his horse wearing a be-plumed helmet that in any sort of sane situation would have been a giant "Here I am! Shoot me!" target. Though heavily spattered with blood, he seems to escape any major injury, one of Darius's men (who looks as though he raided Ghegis Khan's wardrobe) following him and then...not, apparently. Quite honestly, it doesn't even matter by that point. There is no sense to this film. None whatsoever. It's a bit like someone's drug-induced nightmare...edited with a sledgehammer.
Truly painful.
Here on Earth (2000)
The Dreaded Knee...
To be fair, it has been several years since I watched the bile committed to celluloid known as "Here on Earth," so forgive me if my memory of the film is a little sketchy. I'll stick with the main points which plague the soul of the unfortunate viewer.
Scene One: Chris Klein, after having been thrown out of prep school (because he looks like a seventeen year old--yes, very believable), gives what I assume is his valedictorian speech...to a field. Let me repeat that for you--a field. I think we're supposed to be moved by the combination of shame and eloquence he is failing to express. Klein has the delivery and facial expressions of a cardboard cutout. He is a decent looking piece of cardboard, but little more.
Scene Two: After some joyriding and teenage pyromaniac hijinks, Chris Klein and Josh Hartnett do some damage to the local diner, of which he is forced to rebuild. Of course. Because who better to help with construction than some random moron who crashed into it/ burned it in the first place. Better yet, let's have said random moron move in on Josh Hartnett's girl, Miss Sobeski, the girl he fancies for...her equally wooden line delivery?
Scene Three: Chris Klein's character is making out with Leelee Sobeski's character and decides to name her various body parts after the states on the eastern seaboard. My soul weeps. Really, how can this scenario turn out well? Surely you must alienate several million people if you imply their home is equivalent to Miss Sobeski's more...erm...feminine areas. Secondly, naming her breasts after New York and New Jersey prompts some confusion as to whether Miss Sobeski is actually freakishly disproportionate.
Scene Four: Leelee is running. She falls down. This gives her...knee cancer. "We always knew it could come back," her father(?) says. Right. Knee cancer. From tripping. Perhaps I missed something. As I said, it's been a few years. Surely I missed something. Didn't I? For the love of God, please tell me the girl did not contract KNEE cancer from falling down.
That scream you just heard was my soul dying.
Mean Girls (2004)
Doesn't everyone vent their rage by throwing artwork?
I must confess I never joined the Mean Girls bandwagon. I still can't get the hype that surrounds it. That is not to say I think it the most putrid piece of bile ever put to celluloid, and for its teen flick genre, I suppose it fares better than the classic "girl from wrong side of the tracks has the most pivotal moment of her life at prom because that is always the pinnacle of one's existence," but I'm just not jumping out of my chair. To counter the praise, this isn't the high school experience. It's usually quite a bit more boring than that. This is just more of the same clichés with a few cast members from SNL.
To its credit, there were several humorous lines, and the acting wasn't horrid. This is also the more endearing Lindsay, who looks healthy and normal and has an appreciation for underwear.
As to my criticisms...first off, must EVERY movie centered around high school include the preppy popular bitch queens from hell? I'm not sure where everyone else went to high school, but for my own experience, I can't recall being in the hall and have the students part like the Red Sea as the Prom Queen and her entourage walked past in slow motion as random music from nowhere began to play. And never quite clear to me was the 180 made by Cady's (Lindsay Lohan) friends, the token quasi-goth and gay boy. They seemed to force her into the "Plastics sabotage," and yet the next thing the audience knows they are inexplicably intoxicated and driving past Cady's house to cry and throw a painting at her. Did I miss something?? She THROWS a PAINTING. Why does she drive around with a painting? And for our film's climax, rather than keeping it between Ms. Cady, the Plastics, and those connected to that particular circle, we are rather reduced to a giant kerfuffle involving EVERY girl in the junior(?) class. Only the girls. Only this particular year. But all out fisticuffs. So they are forced into an emergency assembly to learn the meaning of friendship and goodwill towards men.
Right.
In the end, after a very random bus collision and a mathlete competition, everyone is happy and well-adjusted, everyone gets along. It appears that high school has suddenly lost its trite hierarchy and they are now egalitarian and welcoming. And someone has breasts that predict the weather.
Funny Face (1957)
A Peculiar Time-Warp...
Certain things are absolutely timeless, and then there are others that just do not translate. I was studying abroad in Paris when my mother sent me a box set of Audrey Hepburn films. Learning "Funny Face" took place predominately in my host-city, I popped it in. I am willing to make the occasional logic leap and accept some fluff, and I do understand "Funny Face" wasn't attempting to sweep the Oscars, but there is a limit. And while there are some fabulous scenes, overall, I was disappointed.
"Funny Face," in brief, begins with the owner of "Quality" magazine, Maggie Prescott, and her photographer, Dick Avery, trying to find a new face to shake the fashion world. It is found in the young Jo Stockton, an educated, introverted, and supposedly homely girl working in a bookstore. She dreams of going to Paris to meet Professor Flostre, the founder of the philosophy she studies, "Empathicalism." Though at first reluctant, Jo agrees to model for "Quality"'s photo shoot and fashion show, as both events are in Paris. Sparks fly between Jo and Dick, but jealousy reigns for the latter when Jo meets her professor and the man has more than talking philosophy on his mind. Hijinks, song, and dance ensue.
As to my criticisms:
My first issue came from the extraordinarily obvious age disparity between Miss Hepburn (playing bookshop employee-turned-cover girl Jo Stockton) and Fred Astaire (playing photographer Dick Avery). Both are great actors and it isn't the first time the former was paired with an older leading man, but this is a thirty year age gap and it shows. I might have been more willing to go with it if at some point the age difference had been addressed, but it's conspicuously left off like the audience won't notice if no one mentions it. In fact, I almost found it creepy to see Fred Astaire plant one on Audrey in one of the opening scenes. Their chemistry often seemed forced, and quite honestly, I thought Astaire and Kay Thompson (playing Maggie Prescott, and nearer his contemporary) had far more spark between them.
The makers of this film again gave little credit to their audience by presenting the notion that putting Hepburn in a bizarre over-sized wool vest and shapeless shift made her dowdy and unattractive. And was it really necessary to play on the cliché that a girl who enjoys to read and demonstrates the general ability to think must be a sexually unattractive virginal frump? Admittedly, I live in a different generation, but the film bothered me by hammering in the idea that a truly happy woman gives up her books and devotes herself to buying designer ensembles and picking up her husband's laundry. I am continually floored when older films make comedic references to spousal abuse, and was so here, when Dick Avery is searching for Jo in the streets of Montmartre and passes an arguing French couple, the male of which solves the dispute by smacking his girl across the face--she responds by lovingly falling into his arms. I was particularly galled by Astaire's line concerning Jo's sex-crazed professor- idol, Flostre (Michel Auclair), "He's about as interested in your intellect as I am!" No, silly, a man doesn't want you to think--just stand there and look pretty like a china doll. This is what made no sense to me--they spend the beginning of the film struggling to find a fresh face with some substance behind it, only to transform it into the stereotypical vapid pretty girl who can only achieve real fulfillment if some man deigns to make her a wife.
The strange subplot mocking beatniks led to some confusion. I am not an authority on the subject, but last time I checked, the beat generation was primarily focused in the United States and did not exactly sweep young Parisian intellectuals. It almost seemed placed there just so the filmmakers could have a go at making it look ridiculous and give Thompson and Astaire the chance for their energetic song and dance routine. The very fact that "Funny Face" is a musical was odd--the leading pair, while not tone-deaf, are not singers. And why when Dick serenades Jo outside her hotel (exactly why, if they're all on the photo shoot, do they all seem to be booked in separate hotels?), does he act like a matador? Spain and its bullfights are NEAR France; they are not IN it. And during his matador number, why in the world does a cow come through?? Paris, even in 1957, was a very metropolitan capital--live barnyard animals in the streets are a relatively rare occurrence.
Absolutely hysterical was the number "Bonjour, Paris!" in which Maggie, Dick, and Jo, bright- eyed and ready to go even after at least eight hours on a plane, wildly dance through the city streets, magically jumping between the spread-out landmarks, and proudly proclaiming themselves as American tourists. Their dance in the elevator on the Eiffel Tower was particularly amusing--I'm not sure what the crowds were like back in the 1950's, but nowadays those things pack you in like sardines--you're lucky if you can MOVE your foot, let alone do a couple pirouettes.
All that said, I will acknowledge the costumes (particular those by Givenchy for Audrey Hepburn) and shots of Paris are beyond fabulous--the best part of the film is Hepburn's photo shoots, interspersing her ensembles in the Louvre, Opéra, and other major sites in the city. The dance sequence with Thompson and Astaire is great--Hepburn's famous (and lately popularized by the Gap) "Basil Metabolism" dance is...unique. Amongst all that was bizarre, it does have a few moments of charm. To the potential viewer--do not watch this expecting any sort of cinematic masterpiece and know that not all t he jokes have carried over well across the half-century since it was released.
It's certainly an attention-grabber, if nothing else.