Reviews

The premise has great potential. In fact, the film started out well - sure, maybe a bit of a reach in terms of believability, but I was willing to go along for the ride.

However, once the setting shifted from the stark Far North, Director Joe Wright shifted styles. And boy, did he hit the Overkill button. As Hanna makes her escape from the holding facility believing she has eliminated Marissa, the piece ramps up to manic mode. Instead of an engaging thriller, we're suddenly thrust into an elongated music video. Jarring, clipped, frenzied visuals matched frame for frame by an overbearing and relentless sound track. Long tracking shots and bizarre camera angles are inserted into the story without any apparent reason other than for us to see how clever and stylistic the storytelling is.

...It just doesn't work. It seems every effort was made NOT to support the story, but rather have the story play second fiddle to a smörgåsbord of overdone sights and sounds.

And speaking of story, it was all over the place. In one instance, Hanna is awestruck when she first encounters electricity. (She's already seen an airplane fly overhead... but a light that can be turned on and off with a switch? Wow, now that's something!) She's so baffled by techno-gadgets like a TV, a ceiling fan and an electric kettle she sprints from the room. Yet a day later, we find her comfortably and capably surfing the web at an Internet cafe. Hm. Did I already mention it was a stretch? Cate Blanchett plays a driven, idiosyncratic character who may have seemed interesting on paper, but comes across as an over-the-top imitation of Cruella De Vil. Many of the other characters - the British tourists and Issac, the sadistic blond killer Marissa employs to track down Hanna - were equally idiosyncratic and equally uninteresting. Seemed like the writers' ideas for creating character is simply endow them with quirks and disconnects. What you are left with at the end of the film is a feeling you've just spent two hours (tho' it seemed much longer) in the company of unconventional characters who are as engaging as they are charming. They're neither.

Saoirse Ronan certainly has a strong screen presence as Hanna. Unfortunately, she's about the only thing that makes this mess at all watchable.

It could have been, should have been a much better film.

Cute but hardly engaging. Some excellent performances -- especially from Saul Rubinek as Leon's dad. And Colm Feore had some good moments as Mr. Berkoff the high school principal.

Jay Baruchel's Leon is not so convincing. He's all clipped voice (sounding like he was channelling Christian Slater) and quirky mannerisms. This works up to a point, but we never really penetrate the idiosyncrasies of the character to discover why this guy is the way he is, or even if he's authentic. Perhaps Leon is just an act. (Actually, it would have been more interesting if we were to discover that Leon has metamorphosed into Leon Trotsky to protect or hide himself from the world.) As it is, the character comes across as a snotty, though brilliant, know-it-all. And, sadly, not terribly likable.

The script fails to live up to its potential -- and I do believe the story has potential. Regrettably, it seems content to come in well below par. Leon's fascination with Alexandra, a woman almost 10 years his senior, is a case in point. He's so odd and off-putting in his genial way, one can only question Alexandra's intentions (or sanity) for eventually falling for him. I understand that boy-meets-girl, boy-loses-girl, boy-gets-girl is inevitable, if not essential, in these light romcoms, but the audience has to 1) be rooting for them to get together again, and 2) it's gotta be believable. Neither succeeds here.

And just one additional point... Who is the audience this movie is aimed at? I suspect the creative team would say teens. Maybe the 14 to 34 demographic? While it's not laced with swearing and expletives, it does have dialogue about BJs, older women having sex with young men, and a jarring use of the "C" word. Yes, that C word. Hm. Is this the writer/directors attempt to be hip or provocative? Dunno. But it seems glaringly inappropriate -- not just because it works against the lighthearted tone of the story, but because it seems so imposed for no other reason than to... well, be an imposition. Seems to me the producers are needlessly cutting out a sizable group of youngsters -- say early high schoolers (13 - 16 years old) that won't be admitted to the film because of content that, in reality, does nothing to make the story better.

Like many of the other comments posted here, I felt the film was okay, but hardly deserving of all the buzz it has generated. First of all, it went on for WAY too long. Scenes that went nowhere (breaking into Ryan Bingham's old high school to faun over his old basketball photos; the excruciatingly long and fairly pointless party scene where Ryan, Alex and Natalie crash a Tech Convention gala; the beat-it-over-your-head-so-you-don't-miss-the-point termination scenes where Ryan, or Ryan and Natalie, fire people from their jobs in cities all over America; and even Ryan's "What's In Your Backpack" presentations - which seemed to come out of nowhere, btw - were there only to reinforce information about Ryan's commitment to uncommitment that we already knew) were liberally peppered throughout.

Director Jason Reitman seems to be attempting to doubly imprint his style on his projects by the choice of music. Regrettably, I found many of the songs inducing the "Brechtian effect". Lyrics, intended to underscore the gravitas of the scene (I assume) tended to pry my concentration from the story in order to listen to the song. It's as if these little musical intervals are intended to force you to remember that you're watching a movie. That's fine if it's done for a reason, not so fine in a film in which the overriding goal of each song is to manipulate me into feeling some sort of emotional connection to the characters. Hey, if the story and actors aren't doing it, the music becomes just an added distraction.

I'm usually willing to buy into any premise as long as the premise is adhered to throughout the film. I felt cheated that the Alex character - Ryan's equally adrift (literally and figuratively) lover - is not that way at all. Her "reality", from which she uses Ryan to escape, is a secure nest with hubby and kiddies. I couldn't help but groan aloud at the late reveal... and, again, feel unfairly and dishonestly manipulated.

All that said, it's still a watchable flick - and likely to cause a good deal of after-film discussion... which is never a bad thing.

Having been inundated with so many Judd Apatow-type gross out comedies over the past couple of years, I was expecting Baby Mama to try and target the same audience. Thankfully, it doesn't. It's a sweet, smartly-written story made all the better with some terrific performances by Tina Fey and Amy Poehler as a pair of mismatched clients of a surprisingly fertile surrogacy agent (Sigourney Weaver). The film finds its natural, unforced comedy rhythm at the get-go and seldom sags or over-extends itself for the sake of a laugh. (The one exception being the overly-exaggerated lisp of the prenatal class instructor. Play the material honestly, dear. It's funny enough.) The supporting cast is exceptionally strong -- in particular Dax Shephard as Poehler's white-trash boyfriend and Romany Malco as Fey's doorman-slash-confidant. Director Michael McCullers avoids the trap of being self-indulgent with his own script. He keeps it lean, tight and moving right along. Certainly one of the more satisfying comedies I've seen in awhile.

Okay, let's face it. The credibility factor in almost ALL action flicks is questionable at best. If you really took the time to analyze the logic behind the story, you'd come up short. But, by definition, action pics are just that -- heavy on the action, and not so heavy on the logic that supports the story. With this in mind, Street Kings is a solid, well-executed action flick that has all the right ingredients: a non-conformist hero you WANT to root for; a never-let-up story that keeps you riveted to the end; and a stylish, fast-paced visual smörgåsbord that delivers from start to finish.

Yes, the story falls short -- you'll find yourself asking questions like "Why did the undercover cops that Tom Ludlow (Keanu) kill want to eliminate Detective Washington if they weren't part of Det. Wander's crew to begin with?" Yeah, it does get a little dicey if you think it through -- but if you DON'T bother getting bogged down in the minutia, it works. Contrary to much of the published critique of the movie, I think Keanu brings exactly what is needed to the role -- he's vulnerable, jaded, broken... and invincible. What more could you want in a solid action pic??

Can't quite put a finger on it, but there's something about the Irish that knits humor, pathos and grit together like few others can. Jim Sheridan, Danny Boyle, Terry Loane and Kenneth Branaugh do it exceedingly well. This offering by Martin McDonagh -- in only his first feature -- is no exception. He's aided, mind you, by exceptional performances (Brendan Gleeson, Colin Farrell and Ralph Fiennes doing terrific turns with some very offbeat, "sideways" characters) and his own competent script.

The one shortcoming is the over-the-top scene where Ray, Ken and "midget" Jimmy indulge in cocaine, booze and off-the-wall banter about racial wars. The scene comes across as an intrusion, a dark throwaway, one that is out of place in an otherwise gripping story of characters who have chosen a questionable -- but intriguing -- profession.

Not your typical Hollywood ending by a long shot -- but probably more satisfying especially because it's not. Worth seeing.

Not a bad romantic-comedy, but doesn't come near the level of charm, sophistication and believability as those old Cary Grant-style bedroom farces because, in my opinion, it's badly cast. Both Clooney and Zeta-Jones, while usually more than competent, seem to struggle with the tone of the piece. Clooney overacts like crazy - mugging and emoting and obviously playing it for laughs... but as we all know, great comedy seldom advertises itself. Chaplin, Keaton -- even Cary Grant for that matter -- never seemed to be saying, hey, look at me, I'm being funny! I just wanted Clooney to tone it down a bit, make me feel his angst, his frustration at having everything except the most important thing of all.

Zeta-Jones had a particularly difficult challenge -- to make a very unlikeable gold-digger somehow seem vulnerable, empathetic and sweet. The script didn't help, giving her little to play with -- and, ultimately, you just couldn't understand why Miles Massey (Clooney) would fall head-over-heels for someone who was as personable and charming as a cardboard cutout.

...Still, it was nice to see the Coens do something decidedly so un-Coenlike.

I caught a screening of "A Stone's Throw" at the Toronto Int'l Film Festival where it played to a packed house. Polite but not very enthusiastic applause followed... which seemed sort of appropriate since the film comes across as just that - a polite, thoughtful piece that lacks enthusiasm. It has the potential to be an engaging enough story, but that's the problem. It doesn't rise to its potential. There's a mood to the piece that's somber, melancholic - emphasized by the brooding. ever-present score. (By the midway point I was longing for a scene that wasn't underscored by a cello playing in a minor key!) I can handle somber and melancholic as long as it doesn't dissolve into dull. Regrettably, that's what happens with "A Stone's Throw."

The story focuses on Jack Walker (Kristen Holden-Ried) an environmental-activist who returns home to a small, one-company town in rural Nova Scotia. Jack has just learned he's wanted by the authorities for torching the offices at a toxic gold mine - and when he discovers that the local company is using chemicals that are affecting the town's residents, well... drama ensues. It's not a bad story. It's just that the characters are not drawn with much dimension. For example, no one has a sense of humour. No one laughs - with the possible exception of Jack's love interest (played by Lisa Ray.) And given the fact that Jack has a near zero rating on the personality scale, it's a wonder she's even attracted to him. I kept wanting for Jack - or anyone for that matter - to break out of his quiet, brooding self and engage me, stoke my emotions, draw me into his world. We ARE asked to feel sorry for Jack because he has a genetic eye condition that's worsening by the day. But pity is a passive emotion that serves only to keep the audience at arm's length. The one real opportunity for us to side with Jack is when we learn he's being hunted by the police - well, hunted may be an exaggeration. The town's one cop occasionally drops by and asks if anyone has seen him. (I look for my car keys with more fervor!) So the opportunity to root for Jack as he eludes the police gets squandered. The fact that Jack's car ran into a deer and would need to be reported seems to have escaped the cops -- as well as, it seems, the screenwriter.

I'm not suggesting the film would work better as an action flick. Clearly it's not that type of movie. But infusing the proceedings with some life, some wit, some joie de vivre would go a long way toward transforming a competent story into a good movie.

I really wanted to like this film. Here's a commercially-aimed buddy flick that's not afraid to be Canadian (gasp!) Colm Feore is dependable as always, and Patrick Huard does a nice job as a gruff Quebecois cop who lives in the flat above his ex-wife - so he can continue to be an involved, caring dad to their precocious daughter. The film is entertaining in spots, but suffers badly from not knowing exactly what it is. It begins as a gritty cop drama as evidenced by the opening torture scene that results in a body ending up on the Quebec-Ontario border -- hence the unlikely pairing of an Ontario cop with a detective from Montreal. But it weaves back and forth between solid action sequences and a host of off-kilter (and regrettably not very funny) comedic segments that are mostly lame and predictable. For example, when a marijuana grow-op explodes into flames, our two heroes end up stoned and can't stop giggling in front of the police Captain. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's about as funny as it sounds. Add a case of the munchies and an uncooperative vending machine and...well, you can see where this is going.

The film takes a rather unsettling turn toward broad parody when it introduces Harry Buttman as the conniving Commissioner of a fictitious professional hockey league with a penchant for moving Canadian hockey teams to American markets. Buttman is a mini-lookalike of Gary Bettman, the Commissioner of the NHL. Buttman, Bettman. Get it?? Golly, I can hardly stop from slapping my thigh either. Even the killer's motive (which I won't reveal here) borders on being so ludicrous it threatens to sink the otherwise solid dramatic elements of the story.

What gets lost in this mishmash of styles is a potentially pleasing film that, given the appeal of the main characters, could succeed, SHOULD succeed if only it knew what it was trying to say.