Ron Howard is a master craftsman of filmmaking, but he will never
be considered an auteur. He is unable to impress a personal
stamp on any of his creations, unless sticking rigidly to a
tried-and-true formula can be considered a personal stamp.
"Cinderella Man" in particular -- while based on a true story -- never
loses sight of the path it will take from beginning to end. Success,
failure, struggle, success. It's a path that's been followed in film,
literature, music, and any other art form you can imagine for
centuries. And that's why it's hard, despite a terrific performance
from Russell Crowe as Depression-era boxer Jim Braddock, to care
much for the protagonist's plight when you know exactly how the
story will end. "Cinderella Man" is not a bad film by any means.
The production team in particular does an excellent job of
re-creating the most realistic 1930s squalor I've ever seen put up
on screen. But aside from a few emotional scenes that can be
attributed to the stellar acting -- Crowe begging for money at the
Garden executive suite comes first to mind -- nothing ever seems
in jeopardy, and thus audience involvement is minimal.
My grade: B
Screened: July 9
"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" screenwriter John August
reportedly did not see the original Gene Wilder film, basing his
screenplay entirely on Roald Dahl’s classic kids' book. While a few
details here and there indicate this blind obedience (the cabbage
soup, for instance), August has taken the liberty of introducing a
number of "fresh" ideas that take the story in directions it wasn't
meant to go. Chief among these is a backstory involving Willy
Wonka's Jacko-esque childhood oppression by his domineering
father. This seems to be part of larger problem contemporary
Hollywood has -- explaining everything. Things don't seem to
happen in movies these days unless there's a concrete origin that
can point directly to a result. There's no nuance, ambiguity, or
sense of distinctness to "Charlie," just a lot of neat-looking sets
and few chuckle-worthy one-liners.
My grade: B-
Screened: July 11
"Winged Migration" on ice, "March of the Penguins" takes a
fascinating look at the miraculous journey our Antarctic neighbors
make each year to procreate in the one fertile locale that can
sustain their young. Narrator of the Century Morgan Freeman
guides us through the Emperor Penguins' long trek with insightful
and humorous commentary, a vast improvement over the French
version's reported first-person anthropomorphism. The creatures
find mates, do their thing (in a bit of bird porno that is nonetheless
very sensual), wait for the chicks to hatch, and then take turns
journeying to the sea to find food. Scores of penguins are lost
along the way to howling winds, predators, and -- it would seem
most unluckily -- the nightmarish cold. They spend most of their
time huddled together in order to preserve the little warmth they
have. And as the colorful southern lights glisten in the nighttime
sky, one cannot help but be awed by the amazing feats that these
penguins, and in fact all animals, undertake in order to maintain
their delicate, acquired level of survival.
My grade: B+
Screened: July 12
"Wedding Crashers" is two films incongruously melded into one.
The first, and better, part is a buddy comedy about two guys out to
get laid at weddings. They swear, crack jokes, see boobs, and get
drunk. No complaints here. The other part is a "relationship"
movie that seems inserted solely to attract female audience
members. Vince Vaughn's motormouth and a somewhat charming
performance by Rachel McAdams ease you through the rough spots,
but all the laugh potential built up for the first hour or so never gets
its proper release. Still, there hasn't been a funnier movie in
months, and the pic's high points -- of which there are many -- for
the most part justify the ride.
My grade: B
Screened: July 24
