Sunday, December 16, 2007

Archive '07 - Bicycle Review (A Midsummer Night's Dream)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE'S A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM

3 Wheels

It's difficult (though not impossible) to screw up Shakespeare. When a filmmaker has the greatest words of the English language to fall back on, an engaging viewing experience for the audience is just about guaranteed. The pertinent question for a Shakespeare adaptation is: Does the director's own vision enhance the text or just rely on it?

In the case of Michael Hoffman's 1999 film A Midsummer Night's Dream, a fresh perspective is achieved by updating the play from ancient Greece to late nineteenth century Tuscany. This creates both a sufficiently dreamlike atmosphere and allows for the introduction of bicycles into the action. The bikes here provide two functions. First, as a way to transport Shakespeare's mismatched lovers into the magical forest and, ultimately, as a source of great amusement to the fairies, who can't wait to see what those crazy mortals will come up with next.

The special effects are low-key but effective. My only real complaint is with the somewhat bizarre casting choices made in an attempt to assemble star actors. The most egregious offender is Calista Flockhart who, as the tortured Helena, mugs and preens as if she were still on her goofy TV show. Stanley Tucci, an actor best known for playing uptight corporate types, is an odd choice for the mischievous fairy, Puck.

Kevin Kline was great as Hamlet in the mid-eighties, but when his Dream character, Bottom, is turned into a donkey, both the makeup and performance seem a bit too subtle. The inherent comedy of this donkey-headed character being seduced by the fairy queen, Titania, is lost when this preposterous pairing is meant to be touching. It also doesn't help that Michelle Pfeiffer, though she looks the part, can't really sell the dialogue. Miscast as the film is, this is still one of Shakespeare's most beloved comedies, and it’s far more intelligent and entertaining than most contemporary romantic comedies.

I would be remiss in my critical duties if I did not point you to the significantly better 1968 version of A Midsummer Night's Dream starring Helen Mirren, Judi Dench and Ian Holm. These great actors bring a degree of depth and fun to the proceedings lacking in the 1999 film, though the newer adaptation certainly has the edge in the special effects department. (The fairies in the 1968 film are unevenly covered in green paint.)

Hoffman's A Midsummer Night's Dream never reaches the brilliance of Roman Polanski's Macbeth, Akira Kurosawa's King Lear adaptation, Ran, or Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet, but Shakespeare's tragedies have always been more cinematic than his comedies. Hoffman's Dream is more like Mel Gibson's Hamlet or the mid-nineties version of Twelfth Night—just good enough to wet our appetite to seek out the true greatness of Shakespeare on our own.

Archive '07 - Bicycle Review (Jour de Fete)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


JOUR DE FETE

2 1/2 Wheels

One can look at Jour de fête in one of two ways. In the context of film history, it’s an important moment in the evolution of comedy, as it marked the debut of France’s most acclaimed comedic innovator, Jacques Tati. Judged on its own merits, it’s leisurely, pleasant and droll, eliciting the occasional smile, but never a full belly laugh.

Tati plays the high strung mailman, Francois, who delivers the mail by bike in a small French village that would have been considered old-fashioned even at the time of its 1947 release. Francois has a dream – to deliver the mail like the Americans do – by helicopter. This, and all the other tidbits he’s picked up about life in the far away United States, he’s learned from the movies. His jealousy and begrudging admiration for the American way lead to both slapstick efforts at modernization and anti-American tirades that surprisingly evoke a G-rated Borat.

Here, art and reality intersect because Tati, like his character, also covets American progress, but in the area of filmmaking itself. While France had produced excellent dramas like The Rules of the Game and Children of Paradise, French audiences looking for great comedy had to look towards the States. Tati’s vision was to take the American silent physical comedy and update it for the sound era.

He would achieve critical acclaim in the ’50s when he developed and portrayed the character of Mr. Hulot, the mumbling innocent who would constantly do battle with everyday objects. In each subsequent Hulot film, these battles would become more elaborate as he questioned what kind of progress modernization truly achieved.

Hulot was a direct inspiration to England’s Rowan Atkinson, whose Mr. Bean character brought Tati’s brand of comedy into the ’90s. His other clear disciple is Jerry Lewis, who also favored involved physical gags based on the inability to use everyday objects. Lewis lacked Tati’s subtler qualities, but one thought I had after viewing Jour de fête was that I now understand why the French so admire Jerry Lewis.

Tati also had technical innovations in mind, which were probably pretty neat in 1947 and are considerably less so today. Jour de fête is a black-and-white film that occasionally and strategically introduces color to the frame. The colors tend to be blue and red, which is usually applied to the French flag as well as other areas of the screen Tati wishes to call attention to.

Sound is also handled in an unusual way. The dialogue is muted (and was added after filming without much attention to dubbing) and sound effects are brought forward on the soundtrack. The purpose is to allow the sound to enhance the physical comedy.

What would have enhanced the physical comedy more would have been more of it. While its relaxed look at the quaint village is, well, relaxing, it’s only at the end, when Francois makes it his mission to single-handedly modernize the French postal service (all on his bicycle by the way) that Jour de fête starts to build some energy. Ten minutes later, its over, and its place in film history secured despite not being all that funny.

Archive '07 - Bicycle Review (Messenger)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


MESSENGER

1 Wheel

I imagine the story behind the making of Messenger to be more entertaining and interesting then the film that was actually made. I must imagine it because little information is available about this deservedly obscure little project.

Aspiring writer/director, Norman Loftis, had a seemingly inspired idea – remake the Italian neo-realist classic, The Bicycle Thief, but have it set in a poverty stricken American ghetto to humanize the plight of young African-American families who have been left behind by society to an environment filled with crime and hopelessness. Like then unknown filmmakers, Kevin Smith or Robert Rodriguez, he would scrounge up a few thousand dollars, some cameras and some friends to bring his vision to the screen.

Unfortunately, Mr. Loftis forgot one thing. You have to have some degree of talent to make a good film. None is evident in the final product, which resembles the kind of home movies now typically shown on YouTube. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume his intentions were noble. Perhaps he didn’t envision a film filled with racist stereotypes of black ghetto culture, but that’s what he’s made.

Messenger’s plot faithfully follows the original Bicycle Thief in most details. One major exception is the protagonist is no longer accompanied by his son, but instead, by his pregnant wife. As in the original, we follow a poor man at the end of his rope. He uses the last of his savings to buy the bike required for his new job as a messenger. When his bike is stolen, he must confront his own morality in deciding how far he’ll go to provide for his family.

That leads to the other major difference between the two films. The hero of The Bicycle Thief is portrayed as a good man whose circumstances test him. Richard Barboza plays Messenger's title character as a thug ready to beat or even shoot anyone he feels threatened by. Its possible to bring such a role to life in a way the audience can relate to, but Barboza can’t act, which makes his character completely unlikable.

Of course Vittorio De Sica, who directed the original also used non-actors. This only works if you have a strong director to bring some authenticity out of the non-actor, something Messenger sorely lacks.To give some credit, however, I must admit there was one line of dialogue that I found clever and enjoyed. After the messenger’s bike is stolen, he gets in a cab and orders the driver to chase the thief. The driver responds, "What, do you think this is the movies?"

Archive '07 - Bicycle Review (The Truman Show)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE TRUMAN SHOW

4 Wheels (Spoilers Ahead!)

Bicycles have served many functions in movies. They’ve represented everything from childhood innocence to the drive to win, but The Truman Show may be the only cinematic depiction of the bike as an ominous force that hints all is not what it should be. Bikes make up most of the traffic in Seahaven, but how often do you see nurses riding to the hospital in full uniform?

Jim Carrey is Truman Burbank, a likeable everyman who seems just a little off. In fact, his whole town seems a little off, a bit too idealized, as if it were created for a TV show. As The Truman Show slyly teases at and finally reveals, Truman is the unwitting star of his own 24-hour reality television show that follows his every move and is watched by millions worldwide. Everyone he knows is an actor playing a role and Seahaven is, in fact, a giant set.

This is an enormously creative conceit and, happily, all the talent is in top form to make The Truman Show one of the most thought-provoking and emotionally satisfying films of the nineties. Jim Carrey, who was only known for his over-the-top slapstick at the time, proved himself a real dramatic actor (whose talent would shine even brighter in the phenomenal Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.) Little bits of Carrey’s shtick do sneak in, but it makes sense because someone raised in such an environment probably would end up a bit odd.

Laura Linney and Ed Harris give stellar supporting performances. Linney is Truman’s (Stepford?) wife who keeps her husband bewildered by launching into impromptu commercials on a regular basis. She is also the aforementioned bicycle-riding nurse and one of the more unsettling elements in Truman’s life. The always reliable Ed Harris plays Christof, the mastermind behind the Truman Show. Harris does not go for the obvious villain notes, but instead, he views himself as Truman’s surrogate father (not that he doesn't love those ratings.)

Veteran Australian director, Peter Weir, at first seems an unconventional choice for such a high concept film, but just as he did in Witness, Weir expertly empathizes with the experience of being a stranger in a foreign community.

It’s interesting to note that The Truman Show was released at the very beginning of the reality television craze and, as a result, holds it in a much more charitable light than if it had been made today. The filmmakers were naïve enough to portray a television audience satisfied with watching a real life unfold naturally and rooting for their hero’s happiness. How sad that the reverse turned out to be the case, and reality TV shows would mostly become cesspools of exploitation, greed and bringing out the worst in people.

Would we be better off in Seahaven? Like our hero, it’s a decision we all must make individually. Fortunately, once in a while, a special film like The Truman Show comes along to help us dig deeper and be entertained at the same time.

Archive '07 - Bicycle Review (The Good German)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE GOOD GERMAN

3 Wheels

The Good German may be a gimmick movie, but I have to admit, it's a damn good gimmick. It's filmed in the style of those classic spy thriller/love stories of the 1940s. It's not just the black and white cinematography, but the film stock, limited camera movements, use of sound and acting styles that give the distinct impression that this 2006 film was made in 1945, when the action of the story takes place.

Nowhere is this more powerful than the opening credits. The frame is cropped to eliminate the wide-screen that had not yet been developed in the period setting, while the retro-lettering and music seem to take you back in time. I could not stop grinning throughout the credits, but soon enough, it became apparent that the film itself is rather dark in nature. There are a few areas that The Good German distinctly does not make period, allowing for the inclusion of profanity, sex and violence.

George Clooney plays a reporter covering the Potsdam Conference which, in the wake of Hitler's defeat in World War II, will determine how Germany is to be divided. Berlin is itself divided into American, British and Russian sectors leading to much postwar intrigue between the Americans and Russians. In this, the film is reminiscent of perhaps the best '40s spy thriller, The Third Man with Orson Welles as Harry Lime, one of the all-time great movie villains. Its tone is much closer to that film than Casablanca, which The Good German's publicity is trying to emulate.

Casablanca is paid homage to near the end, but bike fans will also appreciate how similar postwar Berlin appears to the postwar Italy of The Bicycle Thief. Just as in the Italian film, bicycles are seen often as a practical means of transportation in the Europe of that period. Additionally, "The Good German" of the title, portrayed by Cate Blanchett, attends to a number of her covert activities (being purposefully vague here) on her bike.

Blanchett plays an old flame of Clooney's, but as the film opens, is shacking up with Tobey Maguire, whose sleazy role couldn't be further from his Spider-Man persona. As Blanchett's character is viewed with suspicion as a possible Nazi or Nazi sympathizer, the real theme of the film takes shape. With all the atrocities that took place in Nazi Germany, what of the supposed "Good Germans" who collaborated through seemingly unknowing action or silence. This issue's complexity is in stark contrast to the black and white film style.

Steven Soderbergh is an ambitious, but inconsistent director. His highlights include Sex, Lies, and Videotape, Out of Sight, and Traffic, but he can also be dragged down by failed experiments like Solaris and Full Frontal or the mindless commerciality of the Ocean's 11 films. With The Good German, Soderbergh has made a film that is too slow for the effect he seeks, but it really has something to say. Its own inconsistencies are the result of deliberately trying to bring two eras of film into one. They don't exactly fit, but it's fascinating to watch him try.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Malena)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


MALENA

1 1/2 Wheels

Malèna, an Italian film released in 2000, manages to accomplish a couple unusual feats. First, it's both juvenile and pretentious. More surprisingly, it's somehow managed to make the subject of sex utterly boring.

It begins as a typical coming-of-age tale in which 12-year-old Renato falls in love with the beautiful, but unattainable Malèna, played by model-turned-actress Monica Bellucci. Had this been an American film, it would be dismissed as a childish sex romp in the vein of Porky's or one of the American Pie sequels. I doubt their European counterparts are any better, but they certainly try to put more sophisticated gloss on their otherwise prurient subject matter.

So here we have an attempted sex comedy with serious overtones set in World War II Sicily, and Malèna is called upon to be both sex object and martyr. I'm sure we're supposed to read some kind of symbolism between the war and Malèna's suffering, but it would take a better film to hit that point home.

You see, in Malèna's village, nobody seems to have ever seen a beautiful woman before. When her husband goes missing in the war, every male immediately begins to lust after her and devise plans to get her into bed. Every woman burns with intense jealousy and assumes Malèna to be a prostitute. Only our young narrator, whose point of view we, as an audience, are expected to share, truly loves her. He proves this love by spying on her in various states of undress.

None of this is inherently inappropriate subject matter, but there are no full-blooded human beings portrayed on screen. We know exactly one thing about every character. For Malèna, it's loyalty to her husband. For Renato, it's his obsession with Malèna. For everyone else, it's either lust or hate for Malèna. So we really can't care about this kid's coming of age, since we don't know much about him. Malèna is reduced to her appearance and nothing else.

Unfortunately, this leads to a mean streak of misogyny in the film, demonstrated by its questionable use of nudity. Nudity, properly used, can be either an erotic force or a window into the souls of more fully developed characters. (See Body Heat for the former or Nashville for the latter.) While most of the exposure consists of quick, shadowy glimpses, the one scene of sustained and clear nudity is also one of violence and humiliation. Again, if Malèna were a three dimensional character, such a moment might have been powerful and horrifying. As it is, it's just exploitation.

Malèna is a bicycle movie in that Renato is given a bike at the beginning of the film and rides throughout. There's some dialogue to the effect that receiving his bicycle is a sign of his maturity. If so, it's the only sign of maturity to be found in this dull film.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Wired To Win)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


WIRED TO WIN

3 Wheels (if in Omnimax, 2 otherwise)

Any movie worth seeing is worth seeing in a theater, on a big screen and with an audience. Every time we watch a movie on cable or DVD, we’re watching a compromised version. Of course, in the real world, it’s impractical to limit our film-going to theaters, and it’s better to watch compromised versions of great films than miss them altogether. A film shot for an OMNIMAX theater, however, is a different story. Here the scope and scale of the screen is so vital to the experience that to view it outside that context means to literally be viewing a different film.

All this is a preface to my main point, which is that Wired to Win: Surviving the Tour de France is worth seeing, but only in its OMNIMAX format. As a film, it’s just so-so, but seen in its original format, there are scenes that take your breath away. A reminder - OMNIMAX is not simply a giant screen, as in IMAX. These movies can only be shown in specialized theaters, like the screenings we attended at Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry. The images are projected onto a domed interior so that the film takes up your entire field of vision.

Wired to Win is a short documentary with a split personality. It’s mostly Tour de France 101, describing the logistics of the 2003 race while showcasing featured riders. This is now the third Tour de France film we’ve reviewed (La Course en Tête and Hell on Wheels being the others), yet it’s the first not to assume a pre-existing detailed knowledge of the race on the part of the viewer.

When not on the road with Lance and friends, Wired to Win doubles as a very basic educational film. Computer graphics take the viewer through simulations of the human brain and how its electrical impulses affect the body and lead to our mental and physical functioning. Much time is devoted to the question of what makes us strive towards our goals despite great obstacles, few of which are more intense than those faced by Tour athletes.

Because Wired to Win only uses the Tour de France as a backdrop, the race itself provides only sporadic drama. Most notable is Lance Armstrong’s remarkable comeback after taking a nasty spill. French cyclist, Jimmy Caspar, suffers an injury early in the race, providing the filmmakers with an ideal opportunity to connect his recovery and return to the race with the science behind his motivation.

Were the film shown in a standard theater setting, all this would be informative, but not fascinating. What’s memorable is the visual panorama that OMNIMAX provides. A real "you are there" vibe prevails as the scenic mountains and countryside of France loom in front of and above your eyes. As the riders make sharp turns along the roads, the theater itself seems to tilt. What would otherwise seem to be cheesy graphics of brain synapses instead become a psychedelic 3D ride.

OMNIMAX is well suited to showcasing spectacles like Wired to Win. What would really be something is if some truly visionary filmmakers found a way to use the format to service the narrative as well as the visuals.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Empire of the Sun)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


EMPIRE OF THE SUN

2 1/2 Wheels

It goes without saying that Steven Spielberg is one of the truly great directors in the history of cinema. His best films are among the all-time greats, but even a filmmaker as gifted as Spielberg may go through dry spells. He's smack dab in one now. His last three films – Munich, War of the Worlds and The Terminal – have been among his weakest and least inspired. If history is a guide, he will recover.

Spielberg had a similar dry spell in the late eighties, and it began with the film we now review, Empire of the Sun. Back then we had to endure the sugary fluff of Always and Hook before he returned to form with the devastatingly powerful Schindler's List. Empire of the Sun is better than most of the above-mentioned slump films, but it's the perfect example of how Spielberg's attempts to move beyond popular entertainment toward serious filmmaking have led to some works being well below his own very high standards.

Empire of the Sun was Spielberg's second attempt at a "serious" film. The first was The Color Purple, which was significantly better. My guess is that he relied on his strong source material in filming the Alice Walker novel, so his usual "signatures" were limited to the visual look of the film. Empire of the Sun, on the other hand, suffers because he overly relies on his traditional theme of childlike wonderment, which served him so well in classics like Close Encounters of the Third Kind and E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, for a story that does not necessarily lend itself to that message.

Christian Bale, in an outstanding performance, plays Jim, a British lad living in Shanghai at the outset of World War II. Japan had been occupying this area of China and, at the time of Pearl Harbor, all American and British citizens were sent to prison camps for the duration of the war. Jim, separated from his family, is soon befriended by a shady American mercenary played by John Malkovich. Jim must grow up fast in this brutal environment as he witnesses the horrors of war.

To demonstrate this forced journey into adulthood, Spielberg uses Jim's bike as shorthand for his innocence. He is first seen riding around his family's wealthy estate carrying a toy plane, which tips us off to his ultimately bizarre obsession with flying. Since he cannot fly, he rides. After his parents are captured, he cycles through the empty rooms of his former home. Just before his own capture, his bike is stolen, never to be recovered, just like his childhood.

While Empire of the Sun's subject matter is grim, at this stage of his career, Spielberg could not subjugate his own optimism. The result is an expertly made film with beautiful cinematography that doesn't really know what it's about. It could have been a rousing adventure story or a tragic meditation on war, not both at the same time. In 1987, Spielberg wasn't yet ready to make this film, but Empire of the Sun can now be seen as a curious transitional work of an important director.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (BMX Bandits)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


BMX BANDITS

1 Wheel

I'm sure that the BMX is a perfectly fine bicycle. It seems durable, colorful and fun to ride. Unfortunately, it has also been the inspiration for some terrible terrible movies. First we were subjected to Rad, an anemically dreary mess about a small town kid and a big race. After having seen BMX Bandits, I'm feeling more charitable toward Rad. That movie was simply dull and poorly made, while BMX Bandits is a mind-numbing waste of celluloid with all the charm of a root canal.

This early eighties Australian import is best known as the film debut of Nicole Kidman. Her wooden performance is proof positive that a bad actress can be taught to be a good actress. No signs of her future success are visible here, and all she can seem to come up with is a spacey stare as her reaction to all situations. Nicole's co-stars are all equally vapid and now enjoy well deserved obscurity.

The plot (and I use that term loosely) involves three Aussie teens who, when not riding their BMX's, get into trouble by swiping walkie-talkies from some inept robbers. All this is meant to be fun and kid-friendly in the Disney mode, but even kids don't need their intelligence insulted. They deserve protagonists they can identify with, not interchangeable teens with no personalities. The deserve villains with some menace, not generic buffoons. They deserve action scenes that at least attempt genuine excitement. None is to be found here.

BMX Bandits is basically one long, painfully slow, chase scene. Sometimes the teens are on bikes, but the stunt work doesn't even reach the standards of Rad, let alone a quality bicycle film. When on foot, we mostly get inane misunderstandings over the walkie-talkies between the kids, crooks and cops. Come on! Walkie-talkies? No diamonds, gold or microchips - everyone's motivation is dependent on a box of walkie-talkies.

Meanwhile we have to suffer through dialogue Ed Wood would be embarrassed by. Bad guys yell, "We'll get you! There's no escape! You can't get away!" As the kids wander through a graveyard, we get such Scooby Doo lines as "What can people do to you when they're dead?" Answer: "That's what I'm afraid of." Now imagine 90 minutes of dialogue like this.

Then there's the music. There is a film term called "Mickey Mousing," in which an actual score is replaced by cartoon-like cues that mimic exactly the action on screen. BMX Bandits is just about the worst perpetrator of this reviled musical format that I have ever seen. Every time a bad guy appears, so does a simplistic menacing cue. Every time! Each BMX jump is accompanied by an equally annoying whoosh cue.

I'd hoped that Quicksilver would be the nadir of my Roll Film viewings, but BMX Bandits is worse. This Aussie fiasco gives new meaning to the term, "Down Under." As for BMX fans looking for a cinematic experience to celebrate your favorite bike, I'd suggest making your own film. It's bound to be better than those actually produced.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Hell on Wheels)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


HELL ON WHEELS

3 Wheels

As a rule, I try to review films from my own perspective and not attempt to imagine how they may be viewed by a hypothetical audience. In the case of Hell on Wheels, however, I couldn't help but think that die-hard fans of the Tour de France, those who have watched it regularly or even traveled to France for the event, would be in heaven screening this comprehensive documentary.

Like the race itself, Hell on Wheels is sprawling, chaotic, unwieldy and, at times, epic. As the film began, I was slow getting into it. Only being familiar with the Tour de France through news reports, I felt thrown into this world with no introduction. A quarter through, I stopped trying to figure out the rules and who was winning and just took in the atmosphere. This approach allowed me to appreciate what a massive event the Tour is and how many stories must be converging around it.

The strategy used by directors Pepe Danquart and Werner Schweizer is to show the Tour from as many perspectives as possible. Primarily, we follow the race through the riders themselves, mostly through the eyes of the German team. At other times, we assume the point of view of a television audience, a historian lecturing on the tour's history, sportscasters, fans along the route, French residents having to live with this annual onslaught, coaches (who are invariably either giving rubdowns or in radio communication with their riders while following them in cars) and even construction workers and security.

Equally chaotic is the music that goes along with the racing scenes. Not content to stick with any one style, it shifts freely from jazz to rock to techno to traditional French folk melodies. Even the opening credits make liberal use of split screens, wild graphics and quick editing to prepare the viewer for a bumpy ride. And a bumpy ride is the least of the horrors facing many tour riders.

Hell on Wheels lives up to its title by showing accidents galore and, ouch, they look nasty. We're helpfully informed that a serious injury almost always takes place on the first day of the race, not that a small thing like a broken collarbone will deter these riders. The power of the Tour de France is crystallized by the historian (biased as he may be) claiming that the Tour is a much bigger event than either the Olympics or the World Cup. For another perspective, a weary rider observes, "Why didn't I become a surfer?"

The race scenes themselves are entertaining, but not as visually striking as in stylized films like Breaking Away. Aside from the aforementioned crashes, most of the memorable scenes are backstage mini-dramas that showcase the personality of the riders. We're not meant to care too much who wins the race. While the result will be obvious to connoisseurs, the filmmakers don't even bother to inform us newbies who the victor actually is. It's the images, sounds and surroundings that we're meant to soak up. And we do.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (The Karate Kid)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE KARATE KID

3 1/2 Wheels

Seeing The Karate Kid for the first time in many years put me in a nostalgic mood. Not just for my own teen years of the mid-eighties, but also for the first movie we ever reviewed here at Roll Film, Breaking Away. The two films have a number of similarities, the most pointed being that they both successfully borrow from the Rocky formula, which has inspired many more bad films than good. Check out our review of Rad for a much drearier take on the theme.

While Breaking Away focused on a bike race and The Karate Kid focuses on, well, karate, both showcased likable and believable teens. Neither film disappointed when it came to the big competition. Breaking Away may have had more visual flair, but The Karate Kid was directed by John Avildsen, the same guy who helmed the original Rocky, and he still knows how to film an underdog with a heart-of-gold story.

What sets The Karate Kid apart is its pitch-perfect casting. It's not that the cast is comprised of the greatest actors. It's more that they absolutely embody their character types. Though in his early twenties at the time, Ralph Macchio plays Daniel LaRusso as a normal young teen we can all recognize and identify with. Elisabeth Shue simply IS the girl next door. Her wholesome cuteness is so natural that I found myself unable to suspend disbelief while watching her performance as a street hooker in the otherwise effective, Leaving Las Vegas. Even William Zabka nailed the obligatory bully role to such an extent that he spent most of his film career stealing lunch money.

Best of all is, of course, Pat Morita as janitor/karate master, Mr. Miyagi, Daniel's teacher, mentor and friend. He takes what could easily have been a by-the-book role and adds unexpected depth. It's hard to believe that this was his only recognized performance of note, but that may be the result of Hollywood's lack of meaty roles for Asian-American actors. It's because of Morita and his kind, but stern humor that we remember "wax on, wax off." What I had not remembered, however, was the very touching scene where a drunk Miyagi mourns his dead wife. Morita is the soul of this film and his Oscar nomination was well deserved.

Another thing I had forgotten about The Karate Kid is that it's a bicycle movie. In fact, prior to his karate training, Daniel's bicycle is his primary means to assert himself. It shows up right at the beginning as he and his mother unpack after their move from New Jersey to L.A. In addition to providing a degree of independent mobility, Daniel's bike allows him to flee from his karate-trained tormentors. More importantly, it's the bullies' damage to Daniel's bike that sets up the first bond between Miyagi and his protégé.

While The Karate Kid is best known today as an eighties nostalgia item, it deserves kudos for proving that even the most commercial of formulas can seem fresh if interesting characters and performances take center stage.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Beijing Bicycle)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


BEIJING BICYCLE

2 Wheels

In Beijing, there are traffic signals that flash green or red in the shape of a bicycle. This is only one of the signs that we're not in Kansas anymore. Bikes of all shapes and sizes fill the streets and alleyways. They share the streets with cars as equals. They are parked in racks by the hundreds. In terms of sheer quantity, Beijing Bicycle may be the ultimate bicycle movie.

What's good about Beijing Bicycle mostly occurs within the first half hour. Here we see a city both familiar and yet truly foreign. Overcrowded and bustling, it seems modern and ancient simultaneously. It's difficult to say if a Chinese audience would be as taken by director, Xiaoshuai Wang's, portrayal of their native land, but to these Western eyes, Beijing is the most interesting character in the film.

Unfortunately, at some point, after getting used to the exotic locale, we have to start following the film's goofy plot. Country boy, Guo, has just moved to the big city where he gets a job as a bike courier. He's a hard worker, but his initial wages are all set aside to pay for his company-provided bicycle. The bike is stolen and, by this time, the film has become a virtual remake of Vittorio De Sica's seminal classic, The Bicycle Thief.

The key difference between Beijing Bicycle and the earlier Italian film is that we follow the story of the thief as well. (Actually, it's left a bit ambiguous whether he's a real thief or not.) Jian is a middle class city kid who "acquires" Guo's bike to impress the local beauty, who has a thing for cyclists. These two guys, both in their late teens, start a battle of wills over this bicycle. Now here's the goofy part: much of the film is occupied with this bike changing hands about five or six times.

Beyond that, they're both none-too-bright and whiny. Jian throws tantrums because his parents seem to favor his younger sister, while Guo's strategy for laying claim to the bike is holding onto it and screaming. Meanwhile, the girl who's begun to occupy both their attentions falls in with a local punk who can do fancy bike tricks. With these three jokers going after her, it's surprising she doesn't ride her bike off to another province.

Since Beijing Bicycle wants to be The Bicycle Thief, it's instructive to note how the latter succeeds where the former fails. In The Bicycle Thief, there is a true sense of urgency as the protagonist cares for his wife and son. The stolen bike is a real catastrophe that could mean starvation for him and his family. In Beijing Bicycle, the stolen bike represents a loss, but the stakes are lower. Guo's courier job is important to him, but it's not his only option, and the bike will only get Jian so far in his love life.

Despite all this, Beijing Bicycle is not unwatchable. It's just flatfooted and The Bicycle Thief allusions are so blatant that you may as well skip the middle man and see the original instead.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Life is Beautiful)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL

3 Wheels

It would be a gross misrepresentation to refer to Life is Beautiful as a "Holocaust comedy." We may be asked to laugh at the antics of its protagonist, but the Holocaust is never made light of or trivialized. It is, however, a backdrop to some broad character humor that usually works, but not always. Even before the film's setting moves to a concentration camp, a sense of discomfort pervades.

Life is Beautiful is an Italian film by writer/director/actor, Roberto Benigni, told in two parts. The first half is a giddy romance with Benigni playing the boisterous Guido, who embraces life with such gusto that every moment is an opportunity for humor and theatrics. Guido falls in love with Dora the schoolteacher and wins her heart through romantic comedy stalking. You know: the kind of behavior that always gets the girl in movies, but would lead to a restraining order in real life.

It is in this setting of pre-war idealism that bicycles are prominently featured and come to represent an innocence soon to be lost. One of a series of "accidental" meetings between Guido and Dora takes the shape of a small bike collision. Years later, after the two are married and have a son, all three are seen happily riding through the Italian city streets.

The second half takes a dark turn when Guido (who is Jewish) and his family are sent to a Nazi concentration camp. Here Guido attempts to use his gift of humor and passion for life to provide his 5-year-old son the hope to survive in this hopeless environment. He convinces the boy that it is all a game and that he is actually in a contest to win a tank if he can hide long enough.

Benigni's influence for Life is Beautiful was most likely Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator. Chaplin's first talkie had him playing both a Hitler-like buffoon and a Jewish barber facing persecution. It's similar in style, and Benigni's humor can be described as Chaplinesque; however, The Great Dictator had the advantage of being released in 1940, at a time when the true extent of the Holocaust was not yet known. In any case, Benigni is no Chaplin--but who is?

Schindler's List and The Pianist provide such vivid reminders of the horrors of the Holocaust that the concentration camp in Life is Beautiful seems watered down for the purposes of preserving some of the film's more fanciful conceits. This is an understandable decision that allows both comedy and pathos to exist side by side, but such a laser focus on Guido and his family sidesteps the fate of their fellow prisoners.

Benigni has made a film close to his heart and it succeeds on its own terms. Intentions count in this case because if the tone were just a bit off, the whole film could have ended up as an exercise in bad taste. Benigni is like a tightrope walker trying to balance his life-affirming vision with real life atrocities, all without crossing lines of sensitivity. We see him stumble a few times, but he never falls off the rope.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Go Further)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


GO FURTHER

1 1/2 Wheels

There was a time when documentaries were predominantly made by third-party filmmakers in order to investigate a subject. They would not be without bias, but the main goal of the films tended to be journalistic or observational. The current trend is to use documentaries solely as advocacy tools, which has the unfortunate result that the worst of them appear to be feature length commercials.

Go Further falls into the latter category as it was clearly made in conjunction with the subjects themselves. Those subjects include actor Woody Harrelson and a variety of employees and friends traveling by bus and bike from Seattle to Los Angeles on a college speaking tour to promote a staggering number of causes, all under the banner, "Simple Organic Living."

In addition to promoting bike riding, our gang of modern day hippies also sings the praises of yoga, vegetarianism, organic foods, alternate fuel sources, conservation, antilogging campaigns, hemp manufacturing and saving the world. The main weakness of the film and Harrelson's efforts is that they are so wide ranging that we never have time to really look at any particular issue in detail.

I'd argue that enjoyment of a film like this should not depend on whether the viewer agrees with its messages or not. Super Size Me is a recent example of advocacy filmmaking done well, whether you've sworn off Big Macs or not. Since Go Further is basically about modern day hippies, it had me fondly remembering the 1970 film, Woodstock, not only one of the best documentaries ever made, but a much more insightful look at hippie culture and causes.

The only time Go Further deviates from simply patting Harrelson and company on the back is when one of the group crosses the line from lovable radicalism to downright offensiveness by hanging an American flag upside-down on his bike. The filmmakers seemed to sense this was a step too far, so they allowed an observer to make the case that such an incendiary image would distance people from their cause.

Harrelson himself is well spoken, but his role in the film is basically limited to offering little bits of eco-wisdom and being followed around like a Woodstock-nation Yoda. Throughout much of the film, we are focusing on TV production assistant Steve Clark, whose claim to be converted from junk food addict to organic poster boy seems somewhat contrived. We are also treated to a number of musical interludes from the likes of Natalie Merchant and Dave Matthews, which while pleasant enough, really add nothing to the film.

Harrelson and company do quite a bit of bike riding during the course of the film. They claim to be riding the whole way, but they actually seem to spend a lot of time on the bus.

At only an hour and 15 minutes, Go Further is too short to be painful, but it just doesn't accomplish any of what it sets out to do. Yes, saving the world is a tall order, but you know you're in trouble when you're reduced to preaching on a megaphone at a herd of cows. (No kidding. This actually happens.)

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (The Bicycle Thief)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE BICYCLE THIEF

3 1/2 Wheels

There's something magical and otherworldly about classic films made before the 1950s. This is true even of serious dramas like Gone With the Wind, Citizen Kane and The Grapes of Wrath. Actors were larger than life and what filled the screen, while possibly based on a true story, certainly did not take place in the real world. Today's dramas may embrace that cinematic heritage (Brokeback Mountain) or may just as likely appear to take place in a more naturalistic setting (Syriana).

Two films revolutionized how real movies could be. One was 1951's A Streetcar Named Desire in which Marlon Brando's method acting changed forever how film actors would approach their craft. A quick comparison of Jimmy Stewart to Robert DeNiro, while revealing greatness in both, shows two completely incompatible styles. The other film was 1948's The Bicycle Thief, which introduced Italian neorealism to the world.

Neorealism, as a film style, was characterized by shooting on actual locations instead of film sets, using non-actors instead of stars, and portraying poverty and strife in a gritty non-Hollywood manner. The movement was spearheaded in Italy in the wake of World War II when the country was struggling to get back on its feet after its disastrous period of fascism. Vitorrio De Sica's The Bicycle Thief is not the first film in the new genre, but remains the definitive one.

In 1940s post-war Italy, poverty was rampant, and sometimes a bicycle could be the only thing standing between a worker and unemployment, meaning starvation for his family. Against this backdrop we meet Antonio whose new job as a poster hanger requires that he own a bike, which he invests the last of his savings to buy. After the bicycle is stolen, we follow Antonio and his young son, Bruno, through the streets of Rome as he seeks to recover his livelihood. Antonio and Bruno are portrayed by two non-actors, but their naturalism allows for genuine emotion as the father struggles to connect with his son, while facing the moral implications of poverty and crime.

There was a time when critics considered The Bicycle Thief one of the greatest, if not the greatest film ever made. Certainly its historical significance cannot be overemphasized, but it's very low-key and may not quite live up to its reputation for modern audiences. The Bicycle Thief is a classic, though not necessarily a timeless one. While still a visually arresting and memorable portrayal of a father-son relationship, it's no longer a shock to see poverty portrayed in such a frank manner. Fifty years of influences on other films have slightly diminished the power of the original.

De Sica's achievement remains a vital turning point in the history of film, but it's also the originator of a sub-genre of bicycle movies. Films like Il Postino, Beijing Bicycle and City of God all portray the bicycle as a key means of survival in impoverished societies, and they all owe a debt to The Bicycle Thief.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Rent)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


RENT

4 Wheels

The main challenge facing any adaptation of a Broadway musical is how to visually open it up so it stands independently as a movie and not just a filmed version of a stage performance. While 2003's Oscar winner, Chicago, solved the problem by having its musical numbers take place in the mind of the main character, Rent takes a more traditional approach and literally replaces the stage with dynamic New York City locations. In this sense, it's more reminiscent of classic musicals like West Side Story than more recent adaptations.

One technique used to open up the film is to establish one of the main characters as an avid bike rider. This is Mark Cohen: filmmaker, idealist, and broke. He sings the first verse of the title song while riding, and his bike, both parked and moving, is seen a number of times throughout. We learn that the bicycle is core to the Bohemian lifestyle in this lyric from the rousing number "La Vie Boheme," which toasts all that's dear to these alternative Generation Xers: "To riding your bike everyday past the three-piece suits."

Another lyric in the same song sums up the show's theme: "To living with, not dying from, disease." Rent is an ensemble piece that follows Mark and his friends—some of whom are gay, some HIV positive (not necessarily the same ones); many are artists of varying mediums and talents; and, most importantly, all are fully developed and we care deeply about them. While AIDS is a specter hanging over the characters, most of the film is joyful and life affirming. I detest the cliché, "You'll laugh! You'll cry!" but damned if this time the label doesn't fit.

The songs are simply wonderful. Rent, loosely based on the Puccini opera, La Boheme, is both the debut and master work of Jonathon Larson who died tragically, at the age of 35, hours before the play's premiere in 1996. It has since hailed as one of the great musicals of the '90s. Just as Hair has come to evoke '60s youth culture, Rent can be looked at as a summation of its times.

Most of the Broadway cast returns for the film and so perfectly embodies their roles that I can easily overlook the criticism that they are too old for their parts. When rumors of a Rent film first began circulating, it was suggested that either Martin Scorsese or Spike Lee might be tapped to direct. I was skeptical when I first heard Chris Columbus was chosen. Despite his skill in launching the Harry Potter series, I couldn't picture the director of Home Alone and Mrs. Doubtfire doing justice to this gritty urban musical.

From the stirring opening moments, it was clear that Columbus proved me wrong. His take on Rent may not have been as gritty as Scorsese or Lee's versions, but he successfully made the musical his own. Yes, he had superior source material, but that didn't stop Joel Schumacher from ruining last year's Phantom of the Opera. Rent is the first of the contemporary wave of musicals that deserves comparisons to the classics.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Archive '05 - Bicycle Review (Rushmore)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


RUSHMORE

2 1/2 Wheels

Rushmore would seem to be exactly the sort of film that would appeal to me. It's a stylized and ironic comedy that intelligently addresses multilayered themes. Director Wes Anderson shows the visual and narrative flair of an original artist, not content to spew out typical Hollywood product. It also marks the moment when the great comic actor, Bill Murray, finally proved himself to be a great actor. The film seemed so good on paper, but the end product never comes alive.

Perhaps my problem is in the casting of its lead. Jason Schwartzman plays Max Fischer, a high school student at the prestigious Rushmore Academy who has taken on leadership roles in so many extracurricular activities that he barely has time to go to class. Max is a character utterly convinced of his own genius. His ego is such that he is shocked when his affections toward a grade school teacher are not returned. He's also socially awkward and has many attributes of the typical movie nerd.

Max is a complex character whom the filmmakers clearly relate to, but Schwartzman is not a good enough actor to show this depth. His performance isn't bad, but it is alienating. He somehow needed to project both arrogance and vulnerability, while still allowing the audience to relate to him. Instead Max often comes across as simply obnoxious.

Bill Murray gives a much more nuanced performance as Herman Blume, a millionaire alumnus of Rushmore whose wealth has not bought happiness. Blume and Max become unlikely friends, mostly because each sees a mirror image of himself in the other. Rushmore marks the first film in which Murray embraced middle age and began a phase in his career that culminated with his acclaimed performance in Lost in Translation.

The friendship is short-lived as Max and Blume find they've both fallen for the same lovely teacher. Neither takes this competition well, but it does lead to the most wickedly funny sequence in the film. As The Who's mini-opera "A Quick One While He's Away" takes over the soundtrack, Max attacks Blume with—a hive of bees! Blume retaliates by running over Max's beloved bicycle with his car. While hard on the bike, this actually makes for one memorable bicycle moment.

To be fair, Rushmore does have a cult following and I understand why. Wes Anderson has such a strong directorial signature that individual scenes seem to work even when the film as a whole does not. While Rushmore introduces intriguing themes, it does so in the context of dull plotting.
One area Anderson excels in, however, is his impeccable use of rock music, which matches his deadpan visuals so well.

Anderson's debut, Bottle Rocket, and his recent, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, both suffer from the same inconsistencies as Rushmore. Only 2001's The Royal Tenenbaums shows him reaching full potential as all his gifts and a wonderful cast finally come together for one of the sharpest and funniest films of the last decade. If you want to see what a great film Rushmore might have been, rent The Royal Tenenbaums.

Archive '05 - Bicycle Review (Emmanuel's Gift)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


EMMANUEL'S GIFT

2 1/2 Wheels

I had never heard of Emmanuel Ofosu Yeboah, but after seeing the moving and inspirational documentary, Emmanuel's Gift, I will certainly never forget him. He is a true-life hero and, because it tells his story, this film deserves to be seen.

Like 10 percent of the population of Ghana, his home country, Emmanuel was born disabled. A deformity in one of his legs had rendered it useless, which would be hard enough for anybody, but was even more devastating in a culture where the disabled are looked upon as cursed and destined only to be beggars. Emmanuel, however, will not be relegated. He trains himself to ride a bicycle using only his one good leg and, in 2002, cycled 600 kilometers across Ghana.

While Emmanuel's Gift features some footage of Emmanuel riding, unfortunately, his miraculous cross-country trek was not filmed. What we do see is how this ride changed not only Emmanuel's life, but the culture of Ghana itself. Emmanuel's persistence and charisma are evident in the comprehensive interviews he gives throughout the film.

Just as inspirational is the bond he forms with other disabled athletes, especially Jim MacLaren, whose own story could make just as moving a film. These bonds set the stage for Emmanuel's true calling, improving the lives of his countless handicapped brethren, still suffering from lack of care and understanding in Ghana.

Emmanuel's Gift is a documentary made to promote this cause. Because the cause is so noble, it's tempting to give the film a pass on its shortcomings. Because Emmanuel's story is so compelling, it makes for a compelling film, but this is entirely due to the subject matter and not anything the filmmakers bring to the table. Sister directors Lisa Lax and Nancy Stern deserve praise for bringing this documentary to the big screen, but their only previous credentials had been in making short films for the Olympics.

Non-stop music combined with a distracting and unnecessary narration from Oprah Winfrey often undercut the real drama being played out. As long as we're watching Emmanuel's story unfold, we're captivated, but there are simply too many scenes where we are being told what we're seeing and how we should be reacting to it.

It's interesting that this film is being released in the same year as Murderball, another documentary about disabled athletes. The tones are very different in that Murderball rejects sentimentality while Emanuel's Gift embraces it. The underlying message that spirit and hope can overcome physical limitations is present in both films, but the way it's communicated could not be more different.

Emmanuel's Gift may be a flawed film, but one benefit of the documentary format is that real life can provide genuine moments of truth not subject to the perspective of filmmakers. One such moment is watching Emmanuel fitted with a prosthetic leg after surgery. By this point in the film, we have come to know him and we know it won't be long until he's running marathons and helping others follow in his footsteps.

Archive '05 - Bicycle Review (The 40 Year-Old Virgin)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE 40 YEAR-OLD VIRGIN

3 1/2 Stars

The 40 Year-Old Virgin begins as if the title character, played by Steve Carell, will be presented as your traditional movie nerd. We know he's a nerd because he collects action figures, decorates his apartment with 1930s Universal monster movie memorabilia and has a framed poster of the early eighties band, Asia, prominently displayed on his wall. There's one more clue. Andy does not drive; he rides a bike.

After a little over a year of reviewing bicycle films, the one constant I've observed is that Hollywood believes that normal people do not ride bikes. There are only four types of characters allowed to ride on the big screen (1) an athlete trying to win the big race, (2) someone who is poverty stricken and whose bicycle allows him or her to work, (3) a kid around the age of eleven, and (4) a nerd, geek, dweeb, etc. Only last month, we focused on Pee-wee Herman. Jason Schwartzman has played a bike geek twice, in Rushmore and I ♥ Huckabees. There is a pattern here.

Fortunately, Virgin quickly abandons all patterns and succeeds in what may be the most difficult type of film to do right—the raunchy comedy with a heart of gold. These are two qualities that cannot be easily combined. National Lampoon's Animal House set the gold standard for raunchy comedies, but would we be laughing so hard if the characters weren't aggressive, stupid and insane?

I'm here to tell you that The 40 Year-Old Virgin is consistently funny throughout. As for tastelessness, most of the best gags are fully unsuitable to describe in this family-friendly review site. (But you may want to put your popcorn down when the Lionel Richie song comes on because you'll be laughing so hard, you may spill it.)

Director Judd Apatow, understands a very basic rule about comedy that most filmmakers forget: When you set up expectations, do the opposite. Adam Sandler, for example, begins most of his movies with the premise that his character is an anti-social moron. He then proceeds to act that way for an hour and a half. Not funny. Virgin, on the other hand, fakes us into thinking that the title character will be some loser to be pitied, but then has Carell play up his likeability and resourcefulness.

That's only the first reversal. One would think that, given the nerd is the hero, his sex-obsessed coworkers would be portrayed as mouth-breathing Neanderthals. No, their efforts to get Andy some action are well-intentioned, despite the disastrous results. These efforts also provide most of the movie's laughs. Nor will Virgin follow the sexist lead of Porky's and portray women as one-dimensional sex objects. In fact, The 40 Year-Old Virgin is somewhat unique in that it seems to have no unsympathetic characters at all.

By the end of the film, the raunchy sex comedy will become a touching love story (thanks to the chemistry between Carell and his love interest, played smartly by Catherine Keener). Even the previously mocked bicycle will return for some heroic moments. Best of all, it earns its musical ending without ever losing its humor or edge.

Archive '05 - Bicycle Review (Pee Wee's Big Adventure)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


PEE WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE

3 Wheels

Surprisingly enough, I laughed out loud a few times while watching Pee-wee's Big Adventure and remained fairly amused throughout. I say "surprisingly" because Pee-wee Herman has never struck me as a particularly funny character. It's not that I find him horribly annoying in a Carrot Top kind of way. I've just never gotten into the whole Jerry Lewis man-child genre of humor.

What saves the Pee-wee character for me is that Paul Reubens does not play him as a clueless klutz. Instead he combines utterly juvenile behavior with an unbridled spirit of optimism. You don't pity Pee-wee for being a child trapped in an adult's body because he wouldn't have it any other way.

Intrigued by my enjoyment of this film, I checked out a couple episodes of his children's show, "Pee-wee's Playhouse." That didn't go quite as well. This shouldn't have surprised me because that show did not have the film's secret weapon, director Tim Burton.

Burton is revered among film buffs for his extreme use of Gothic set design and his affinity for misfit outsiders. Since Pee-wee's Big Adventure is his first film, audiences could not have known that it would fit in so appropriately with themes he would later develop. For instance, in my favorite Burton film, Ed Wood, Johnny Depp (in an extraordinary performance) plays the talentless cross-dressing director with an unbridled spirit of optimism and a single-minded obsession for making movies. Pee-wee Herman also has an obsession - to recover his stolen bicycle.

Pee-wee loves his bike as much as any movie character has ever loved an inanimate object. For all the bicycle films we've reviewed, I believe this is the first bike to have such a distinct look that you could recognize it on the street. A very funny sequence occurs shortly after the bike is stolen as increasingly ridiculous variations of bikes seemingly mock him as they pass.

The rest of the film follows Pee-wee as he searches for his beloved cycle, but Tim Burton is not content to make a predictable road comedy. This is the man who would create stylized universes for characters as demented as Beetlejuice, Batman and Willy Wonka. He gives Pee-wee a real playhouse filled with a bizarre supporting cast and sets far more creative than one would expect from a Pee-wee Herman movie.

Also in the overachiever category, we can't neglect the wild and inspired score from Danny Elfman. This soundtrack combines the anything goes antics of his former new-wave band, Oingo Boingo, with the more traditional soundtrack work he'd do for Burton and other directors. Once again, one would not think that a Pee-wee Herman movie would require a score this good, but throughout the film, Elfman's music brings a surprising level of force and conviction.

Pee-wee's Big Adventure was just a warm up for Tim Burton. He'd soon find a partner of more formidable talents in Johnny Depp. Their collaborations (especially Ed Wood and Sleepy Hollow) would make good on the creative potential only hinted at in this debut.

Archive '05 - Bicycle Review (La Course en Tete)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


LA COURSE EN TETE

2 1/2 Wheels

One of the most effective moments in La Course en Tête comes as we see a rider break down in tears after losing a race. Because this is a documentary, the moment is raw and honest. We are not informed who this rider is, but it is not Belgian cycling champion, Eddy Merckx, the subject of this film. The anonymous rider's moment of devastation is a powerful image taken out of context. This is both the strength and weakness of the entire film.

Director Joel Santoni made a creative decision to explore Merckx's rise and fall on the racing circuit without regard for chronology or narrative. We get bits and pieces of Eddy Merckx's story, but they are scattered throughout. Interviews from different years are spliced together, which further disrupts any coherent time line. The director has embraced the documentary style of cinema verité, which seeks to find truth by using unobtrusive handheld cameras to simply observe without commentary.

We learn that Eddy was a great champion, winning the Tour de France in 1969; that he was a dedicated family man; and that he was accused of using performance-enhancing drugs. None of these points are delved into too deeply and, as a result, we never truly get to know Merckx. Santoni would rather show us the life of racers in general than to detail the life of this particular racer.

La Course en Tête begins with old-time footage of bicycle racers from the silent era. This opening not only sets up the subject matter, but also prepares the viewer to experience a film that functions primarily as a silent. There is quite a bit of racing footage included and, without the use of fancy camera effects, it succeeds in revealing the aesthetic beauty of the ride. It's also refreshing to hear racing sequences not backed by synthesizers. (Most of the music would be at home at a renaissance fair.)

To the extent that the film has a point of view, it is that of Merckx's wife who makes it very clear that she would prefer to be the wife of a retired racer. Brutal scenes of falls and injuries punctuate her concerns about her husband's safety. There is also striking footage of racers braving the elements and riding through rain, fog and snow. The combination of these various filmmaking decisions sets a darker tone than expected. The film is much more interested in the hard struggle of the training and racing than the glory of winning.

So am I recommending La Course en Tête? Kind of. I was glad to see many of its powerful images and there were a few moments that allowed me to viscerally share the experiences of these great athletes. Unfortunately there is also a lot of footage that seems redundant and most likely included as filler.

I wanted to learn more about Merckx, but very little information was conveyed. Those already familiar with his story may be better served, but, as "the Movie Guy" whose knowledge of bicycling champions begins and ends with Lance Armstrong, I will need to look elsewhere to be educated.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Archive '05 - Bicycle Review (The Muppet Movie)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE MUPPET MOVIE

4 Wheels

Yes, The Muppet Movie only features one scene with a bicycle, but it's a doozy. Kermit the Frog had, up to this point, only been seen from the torso up. When we see America's most beloved frog in full for the first time, he is riding a bicycle. Remember, this is long before computer animation. For many in my generation, this is as memorable a special effect as Superman flying. (You'll believe a frog can pedal!)

I claim no objectivity in this review. I grew up with the Muppets and they are fully integrated with my childhood memories. For many in their thirties today, the Muppets played the same role as Walt Disney characters for earlier generations. "Sesame Street" debuted in 1969, the year before I was born. As toddlers, we learned to read and count with the help of Jim Henson's creations.

As we grew from toddlers to children, the Muppets grew with us. "The Muppet Show" (1976-1981) was not just for kids, but for the entire family. Unforgettable characters like Fozzie Bear, Miss Piggy and The Great Gonzo combined slapstick, music and puns for a consistently high quality satire of seventies-era variety shows. After The Muppet Movie, Henson developed more realistic and even disturbing creatures for The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, which was geared toward young teens.

The genius of The Muppet Movie is that it took these characters we grew up with in a TV studio and placed them, for the first time, in the real world. It's an old-fashioned road movie about how the core Muppets first meet and their dreams of becoming movie stars in Hollywood. The first shot is a zoom into a real swamp with Kermit playing banjo in a rowboat.

Throughout, the Muppets will interact, not with a kid's movie cast, but with legendary performers like Bob Hope and Orson Welles. This movie also features bits by Steve Martin, Richard Pryor and Mel Brooks. These are not just three of the funniest comedians of the time, but also the edgiest.

Among other things, The Muppet Movie has going for it are the memorable musical numbers by Paul Williams. "The Rainbow Connection" is a simply beautiful song. Its lyrics about making dreams come true are genuinely moving and provide an emotional anchor to contrast with the silliness.

Speaking of silliness, my favorite pun is the exchange between Kermit and Fozzie as they reach a fork in the road. Kermit says, "Bear left," and Fozzie replies, "Frog right." Looking at the film again as an adult, I was pleased to discover that, unlike many childhood favorites, The Muppet Movie holds up. Somehow these pieces of cloth come off as more human than many actors who have starred in similar plots. For my money, it's my favorite film geared primarily towards kids. It's full-on entertainment and a classic.

(By the way, none of the Muppet sequels approach the quality of the original, but it should be noted that in 1981's The Great Muppet Caper, a whole slew of Muppets are seen riding bicycles as a nod to the famous bike scene in this film.)

Archive '05 - Bicycle Review (6 Day Bike Rider)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


6 DAY BIKE RIDER

2 Wheels

The first question you're asking as you peruse this review of 6 Day Bike Rider is, "Who is Joe E. Brown?" If you're over seventy, you may remember him as one of the biggest comedy stars of the 1930s.

It's more likely that, if you've heard of him at all, you know him from Billy Wilder's 1959 classic, Some Like It Hot. In that film, he played the old millionaire who was so enamored by Jack Lemmon in drag that he uttered the film's famous closing line.

So what kind of comedian was Joe E. Brown? His main asset was his very odd-looking face. With beady eyes and a huge grin, he looked like a cross between Jar Jar Binks and the Joker. If I were to compare him to a better known comedian, I'd have to say his persona most resembles Don Knotts in his Deputy Barney mode on "The Andy Griffith Show." Let's be clear though. Despite the funny face, Brown is nowhere near as funny as Knotts.

In fact, Joe E. Brown's shtick is horribly dated and he's not very likeable. I do believe the man actually says "golly gee wilikers" at some point in the film. His voice is his downfall. It's a gruff, hillbilly voice that doesn't match the rubber face. The only gags in 6 Day Bike Rider that work are the visual ones, especially in the racing scenes at the end. This may have worked better as a silent film.

The plot—the hero must prove himself to earn the love of a girl—would have been right at home in a Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton film. The difference is that Brown never convinces us that he is actually in love. He just keeps claiming that he and Phyllis (Maxine Doyle) are engaged, but he hasn't told her yet. Either Chaplin or Keaton, the silent greats, would have brought more heart and more laughs than Brown is able to provide.

These opinions of Brown are based solely on my viewing of 6 Day Bike Rider. It was convention, at the time, for comics to continually play the same persona in film after film. I'm assuming that this is the case with Brown and that 6 Day Bike Rider is a fair example of him in his prime.

As for the bike race itself, it was surprisingly well done for a 1934 film. Although the Depression is never mentioned, it's clear that it was the backdrop for a race that literally lasts six days (partners tag team). These endurance tests for money were a staple of the Depression era. For a much more somber look at that aspect of the era, check out Sydney Pollack's They Shoot Horses, Don't They.

It's easy to see why Brown did not last in the cultural consciousness with his contemporaries like Laurel and Hardy, The Three Stooges, Abbot and Costello and especially, the unparalleled genius of the Marx Brothers. It's probably no coincidence that these are all teams. Maybe if Joe E. Brown had a partner, we'd still know him. Oh well. Nobody's perfect.

Archive '05 - Bicycle Review (Rad)


This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


RAD

1 1/2 Wheels

For a movie whose title practically begs to be followed by an explanation point, Rad is a surprisingly mellow affair. Even much of the bike riding seems to be shot in slow motion. There's nothing of any merit here, but it's so low-key that I can barley summon the energy to trash it.

The first thing I noticed about Rad is that it's filled with product placement. USA Today, 7-Eleven, Coca Cola and Kix cereal all make non-to-subtle appearances. It makes some sense though, because the film kind of looks like a ninety-minute TV commercial. Not even a modern souped-up one, but one of those grainy ones from the seventies.

There's a general lack of anything resembling professional filmmaking throughout, but that's due to a genuine lack of talent on the part of the filmmakers. Unlike the much worse Quicksilver, in which clearly skilled Hollywood folk sold their souls for formulaic commercialism, the Rad crew know they're making a silly little movie for no money and they give it their best shot.

Plots don't get much simpler. Hometown boy, Cru Jones, competes in the corporate dominated BMX race, Helltrack, against overwhelming odds. In this case, the odds include a scheduling conflict with his SAT test and random sponsorship related rule changes. (Well, maybe the odds aren't so overwhelming.)

Bill Allen plays Cru without even a trace of charisma and gets little support from the young cast who all seem to be reading off cue-cards. The older character actors, including Ray Walston (Fast Times at Ridgemont High), Talia Shire (Rocky) and Jack Weston (Dirty Dancing), understand that they're slumming it and make the most of their screen time by shamelessly chewing scenery.

You might think that the director of such a film would be a naïve young newcomer, but none other than, stuntman-turned-director, Hal Needham, has helmed this project. Forgot Hal already? His resume includes Smokey and the Bandit, Hooper, The Cannonball Run and Stroker Ace. Yes, he's the man who oversaw both the rise and fall of one Burt Reynolds.

Despite their box office draw at the time, these Reynolds/Needham movies functioned pretty much at the level of a "Dukes of Hazzard" episode. Rad isn't that much worse. It's just that, without the star power, it had to be made on an extremely low budget. Needham does give a nod to his old buddy though—two villain BMX riders are identical brothers known as The Reynolds Twins.

To end on a positive note there are a few nice things I can say about Rad. The BMX stunt riders show impressive ability, especially since it's obvious the film had no budget for special effects. The film also features an early eighties song that I had completely forgotten about called "Send Me an Angel," a one-hit-wonder from the band Real Life. I enjoyed the song so much that it didn't even bother me that it accompanied Cru and his girlfriend performing romantic bike stunts in the middle of a high school dance.