The Summer Begins...Iron Man, Indiana Jones, and Harold and Kumar

Iron Man

Written by Mark Fergus and Hawk Ostby

Directed by Jon Favreau


Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

Written by David Koepp and George Lucas

Directed by Steven Spielberg


Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay

Written/directed by Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg


I have firm beliefs in few things (an apple a day keeps the doctor away, always wear sunscreen, when all else fails, take a breath, go for a run and get a latte) but principal among them is the importance of seeing summer blockbusters immediately upon release. Why? Glutton for long-lines, packs of pre-pubescent patrons, overhyped explosions? Nah. It has to do with the nature of the film. To see it in a crammed opening night theatre is to fulfill the mission of the art--the perishable cultural references, the energetic audience reactions, the exponential box office weekend receipts. Three weeks from now, the watercooler kings will have moved onto other pop cultural fodder (the next sequel, the next celeb sex tape) and these films will be a faded memory. Sure, a few will be good, future rentals, airplane in-flight distractions, or Oscar visual effects nominations, but these are films that belong to the early summer months, sweet and fleeting like Mr. Softee's ice cream trucks on every Manhattan corner.

Iron Man is a Marvel comic adaptation done very well. Robert Downey Jr. as a weapons-mogul wunderkind turned self-created superhero in a protective shield/reactive iron suit makes for an interesting tale. A simple narrative where each thread is tied, if obviously, and action sequences with an easy through-line. The political message about the military industrial complex's responsibility to act in the interest of peace, not just war-profiteering was thoughtfully woven. I enjoyed Gwyneth Paltrow's smart exec asst character, skillful and trust-worthy. Downey Jr. and Paltrow had an interesting non-sexual chemistry, which made his Stark more likeable as a person. Definitely a blockbuster to kick things off right.

The latest installment of Indiana Jones is fun to watch, implausible perhaps, but ultimately enjoyable to see Harrison back on screen (like you are watching Bogart, our own modern movie star) fighting aliens and what have you. Shia is a good and necesary addition (watch aging Ford jump those jeeps and you know what I mean). While the plot is sort of clunky in places, the opening sequence is solid Spielberg, a blend of fifties paranoia and heroics expertly shot. If only Cate Blanchett's Russian could be meaner, the jungle natives less un-pc, and the stupid fire ants sequence stricken (Mummy's beetles anyone?)...still worth checking out.

Harold and Kumar's franchise has gone the way of American Pie sequels and gross-out humor of the Farrely brothers. Disappointing. What I loved about the first film was the undercurrent of minorities in a position of power, as modern male slackers, exceptionally bright, but refusing to accept the humdrum life as model minorities. Here we have way too stupid sideplots and blandness, catering to a lowest common denominator of audience member. It's hard to watch smart comedians, skilled writers and collaborators go this route. But isn't that what summer cinema is all about: instant gratification.

Until next time, enjoy your softee cone. It will be gone soon.

Bigger, Stronger and Faster

Bigger, Stronger, Faster
Written/directed by Chris Bell

I was fortunate to get to be a part of the Tribeca Film Fest this year and happened upon many excellent screenings (which hopefully find an audience beyond Union Square). One in particular, Bigger, Stronger, Faster, a doc by Chris Bell about steroids in American culture was simply spectacular. It was picked up by Magnolia Films in tandem with ESPN and will be released May 30th.
There were so many exciting things about this film--a controversial subject thoughtfully explored, subjects who you can identify and empathize with, documentary style which asks questions, does not demand responses, and most of all, a new turn in the traditional male picture--macho guys with internal conflict that doesn't correlate with shoot ups. Oh wait, well at least not the Transformers type.
Do not miss this film.

Son of Rambow and Starwich

Son of Rambow
Written/Directed by Garth Jennings

If Wes Anderson decided to adapt The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay and The Goonies, the product would be the Son of Rambow, the latest indie about precocious kids unleashed with crayola crayons and magical realism animation.

There is a lot going on in this film thematically. You have religious conflict (ultra-conservative Brethren sect vs. mainstream anti-christ aka Hollywood action films). There is a dialogue about performing masculinity and gender identity politics (wow, did I just utter the most pretentious sentence ever...whoops) as we see a spectrum of male role models for young boys: Rambo (ultra-masculine warrior Sly Stallone), Lawrence (preppy, slick older brother of Lee Carter), Diddier (androgynous Frenchie metro exchange student). Which role are these boys supposed to emulate? Then you have a power chain. Who bullies who? Each character carries his/her own demons. Film, art, rave like dances, slugging each other are the release mechanisms.

So how to make sense of this cinematic/narrative hodgepodge...it's a think piece, a collage of modern adolescence presented in a 78 minute feature length film, take the images, assemble them together through your own lens. And revel in some of the most glorious panoramas (racing through the field, dancing at the psychedelic school lounge)

Meanwhile, taste the Fig, mango, apple, walnut, avocado salad at Starwich in midtown west. Once again, a lot of good ideas (colorful, tasty fruit) assembled without any culminating, unifying flavor. I don't know whether to eat it or make it into sangria. Either way I think it could use some mint.

4.08.08 What's Old is New Again

4.08.08...the start of something new at your neighborhood Starbucks, or at least so the ominous ads promise (the ones with the chalk outline of the to-go cup...like your latte has been the victim of a senseless crime).

Today across the nation, Starbucks introduces (or re-introduces) the Pike Place roast...named after the original store in Seattle. This is a blatant attempt by Starbucks CEO (Mr. Venti himself) Howard Schultz to recapture Starbucks followers who either because of cost or taste, are now veering to Dunkin or lesser alternatives to get their java fix.

I myself, am a loyal Starbucks junkie. If I wanted to drink straight from a cow's udder and wash it down with a hazelnut-flavored pixie stik, I would go to Dunkin. But I don't.

So as a afficionaddict, I tried this new brew this morning and found it delightful. Nutty, bold, but not bitter. And cheaper! Get that fiscal responsibility! If I wanted, I could downgrade to a "short." This may be an initiative to collect elementary children's milk money...get them when they are young. Further validating this theory, Starbucks is offering free short Pike's Place roast today at noon EST with the tagline, "Your first hit's free."

Since there are absolutely no worthwhile films in theatres right now to accompany my new beverage (Oh Harold and Kumar, when will you come my way, with Indiana Jones and a summer of popcorn flicks), I think the NCAA spirit calls for us to revisit another old favorite, Love and Basketball. Netflix cue it.

Horton Hears A Who and Chopt

Horton Hears A Who

Written by Ken Daurio and Cinco Paul
Directed by Jimmy Hayward and Steve Martino

In one of my favorite reviews by NY Times film critic A.O Scott, the wry reporter explained, "What distinguishes “Horton Hears a Who!” from the other recent Dr. Seuss film adaptations —“How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and “The Cat in the Hat,” in case you need reminding — is that it is not one of the worst movies ever made." I tend to agree with his sentiments.

While Horton does not belong in the line-up of serious kiddie film offenders (Think: Mr. Magorium's Magic Emporium, and don't kill me: Ratatoulle), it does violate many codes of quality cinema. The characters, in spite of their vivid animation and charming voices, are two dimensional stock types, likely the product of too many writers, too much focus on visuals, and too little creativity. I give you a treasure trove of tired sidekicks--the ditsy schoolgirl, the bickering politicians. The story with classic Seussian wisdom ("A person is a person no matter how small") should be rephrased---a plot is a plot no matter how puny.

For something more substantive: Try chopt salads...green like the Jungle of Nool.

The Band's Visit and Hummus Place

The Band's Visit ( Bikur Ha-Tizmoret)
Written and directed by Eran Kolirin

What seems like a screenwriting exercise for a class in a new genre of inter-cultural Christopher Guest movies (insert Arab police band into Israeli small town) turns out to be an endearing, quirky little art film (the sort that will hopefully end up on the radar of regional Jewish Film Festivals like the feuding falafel stand flick West Bank Story). This has some nice visuals: the powder blue uniformed police band, stoic and ill-suited to the arid Israeli landscape, the opening sequence in the bus station as the Egyptians try to acclimate to the language and social norms of their Israeli environs (they seem to not only be adapting to a new culture a la Lost in Translation, but maybe to a new time, like they have teleported from an era where they would not be familiar with telephones? Perhaps a comment on their conservative Arab backgrounds). It has some nice moments: Khaled, the band's pretty boy, wooing bus clerks with a take on Chet Baker's "Funny Valentine," advising a young Israeli boy on how to comfort/court a girl at a skating rink (this was perhaps the finest 30 seconds of the film), the bickering among the band, among the Israeli families whom the band imposes upon as the members find themselves stranded for the night due to a linguistic misunderstanding (there is no "P" in arabic, so they couldn't find the right Israeli town where their concert was to take place). But the European-style pacing (long shots, extended silences in conversations) will not appease American audiences accustomed to Michael Bay jump-cuts. There is nothing more American than cinematic ADD. Even clocking in at 90 minutes, The Band overstays its welcome. There is a denser film here, but this one wants to keep it light and political message-free. I kept waiting for things to happen, but there was just more talking. Sort of like the Palestinian conflict. Served best with a Mediterranean flavor--turkish coffee and baklava from Hummus Place.

A Vantage Point from JerzeyStyle

Exhausted from the last Oscar viewing push, I defer to my colleague JerzeyStyle for his wise Vantage Point ...could use some Jersey diner style coffee I suppose

We arrive at the latest installment of political commentary from Pete Travers, appropriately entitled Vantage Point. I tried desperately to hate it. It was trite – the East meets West, terrorism expo gone horribly wrong, apocalyptic cataclysm of assassination has been done before. And I will concede, there are major plot holes – not the least of which is Denis Quaid’s superhuman ability to kick a Xanax habit in literally 25 seconds (duty calls?). To start, the rewinding format seems more at home after the encore presentation of Armand Asante in The Odyssey. The film seems to forget that you get put through a background check if you apply for a job at the 7 11 let alone the American Secret Service. One man with undisclosed special ops training is able to kill roughly 30 Secret Service members coming away with little more than a scratch and no one has heard of Kevlar.

There were three elements of the movie that made me respect its critique. First, though subtle as the front end of a Volvo, the depiction of a suicide bomber in the moments of preparation is fascinatingly horrific. The role of the media (specifically cable news) is fascinating. At one moment, you hate them because of their unflinching resolve to broadcast through pipe bomb explosions and sniper shots. On the other, it is clear that the media plays an important role in the transmission of information. The last 30 seconds reveal an even greater truth… but I won’t spill the coffee beans on that one.

The American Studies lover in me relishes the third and final gem, and indeed it is this small but important character that ultimately swayed me. Forest Whitaker is Everyman is brilliant. Unlike the characters in the Nick Cage debacle World Trade Center, we’re not meant to understand that Whitaker is a hero because of the uniform he wears. Rather, we see that he will act heroically because he is capable of relinquishing himself to call of duty to his fellow man (err, 8 year old girl in this case). Though as far-fetched as the rest of the movie, it is impossible to deny that Whitaker’s heroism is inspiring and reminiscent. The things we want to remember most – that we cling to in the danger and tumult of a world where burqa-clad women strap bombs to babies and white men load fertilizer into rental trucks, where students shoot at teachers and peers for no explicable reason, where governments irrationally detain and torture suspected enemies without warrant or just cause, we find in Whitaker’s character – that which we hope we will choose in this of impending peril.

I realize that I have taken a sharp left at sentimental an continued on towards maudlin and I’m happy to the breaks before we cross that bridge. But I think we should give Vantage Point and perhaps its less than brilliant cousins a fighting chance. If for no other reason than it (and in some respects they) may force us all to examine things from a different perspective.