Enlighten Up and Every Little Step

Yoga and Broadway...two of my favorite things featured in two of the hottest docs in town. One I will recommend and one I will recommend if you aren't paying Manhattan prices.

Enlighten Up follows photogenic journalist Nick on his six-month crusade to dabble in the tao of yoga. Along the way, he tries all sorts of yoga across the world, meeting with gurus and yogi flakes, etc. What could have been a very enlightening movie about the contemporary American yoga craze and yoga's actual spiritual pull lacked a clear thesis. Filmmaker Kate is too present, too whiny, too bent on interrupting her own film. The final shot is of her on her mat. That alone is very telling. The film will achieve a limited success among an ever expanding community of contortionists. My 90 minutes would probably have been better spent in suvasana.

Every Little Step covers the casting process of the 2007 Broadway revival of A Chorus Line. Some what American Idol for the jazz hand set, but also fascinating insight into the history of this fantastic show. This doc managed to capture the energy of several exciting moments throughout this epic search for the cast. It was fun to revisit favorite scenes. Every Little Step is a reminder of the power of terrific theatre and the drive that inspires the greater theatre community.

Paired well with Hampton Chutney...uptown or soho. Nourish your inner yogi with a South Indian-inspired rice crepe while keeping your chorus girl figure.

Duplicity and I Love You Man

Expectations. Marketing. Stars. These are factors that frequently impact my critique of a film whether I like or admit it or not. The films Duplicity and I Love You Man are excellent examples of these concepts.

Expectations: I went in with very high expectations for Duplicity based on several things: spectacular reviews by major critics, a thoughtful profile of Gilroy in the New Yorker, my overwhelming love of Clive Owen and any frame of film he chooses to enter. When the movie was only average (and frankly, dull for the caper genre), I was even more disappointed than I would have been had I caught this on cable years later (it will obviously live on one of the channels currently populated by What Women Want).
With I Love You Man, I had very low expectations. I nearly walked out of Superbad. I almost submitted an op-ed on the degradation of the female professional in Knocked Up. So as you can imagine, I did not think I would be amused by this latest frat pack outing. However, when it was charming and delightful, I was thrilled. I laughed out loud several times.

Marketing: Duplicity was made to look slick and fastpaced. It was not. I imagine it is actually a challenge to make Julia Roberts look frumpy. Success! It was slow moving. I fell asleep. The plot was less about them duping each other (as it seemed in the commercials) and more about, well I don't really know as I was asleep.
I Love You Man captured the exact audience it was intended for. And for this reason, the crowd was really responsive and made the experience that much more fun. I like when going to the movies is audience participatory (like not in a negative way with cell phones and annoying talkers back i.e. seeing Watchmen in Vegas with a bunch of spring break drunkards).

Stars: With Duplicity the stars seemed to have their own agendas and I don't mean that in a "sneaky espionage" way. I mean that they probably refused to take direction. Like someone probably said "calm down Paul Giamatti" and he was like, "No, I want to eat the scenery...yum, chomp chomp." They overpowered their scenes. Spies should be unassuming.
With I Love You Man, full of character actors and familiar favorites, the cast coalesced perfectly. Rashida Jones was actually spot on. I felt her role as the girlfriend was actually a fairly hard balance to strike -- adorable, worth pursuing, a girl girl and a guy's guy's girl. Not all young actresses can drink root beer floats with the girls and attend RUSH concerts. Paul Rudd was also perfect. I was completely with him the entire film.

For these reasons, I will recommend I Love You Man and spurn Duplicity. And maybe Juan Valdez on 57th. First it looks like any other chain, but inside, some fun drinks and snacks.

The Watchmen and Coraline in 3D

I lump these two films together because they have many similarities:

A) They are based on highly-successful texts: a graphic novel and a childrens' novella respectively
B) They take place within the American modern world, yet are enhanced by terrifying and whimsical special effects
C) In spite of clever visuals, they drag on too long. I checked my watch several times.
D) They were strategically released around the same time by the studios: February/March swamp season. There is something significant about that decision which should not be ignored. These films are not to be considered for Oscar consideration nor to compete with summer blockbusters.

I had infinite expectations for Coraline. It is rare that I am so keen to see an animated film, but the trailer looked magical and engaging. The reviews were so glowing. But in spite of all the wonderment of this world created within a ram shackled house, the author failed to establish a journey. I didn't feel as if Coraline really went through a journey with lessons. It was a typical Wizard of Oz arch (there's no place like home) but the Oz she steps into is simply scary and disconcerting. There isn't really a conflict. There is a lot of shrill animated Terri Hatcher and loony side characters without any charm. Sure I loved the images -- the flowering garden, the mango milkshakes descending from the ceiling, the transitions between technicolor and sketchy grayscale. But if I want to see some excellent art, I will go to the MOMA. When I come to the theatre, I want a compelling story with my 3-D glasses.

The Watchmen also lost my attention even though it too had some merits. The opening credit sequence is one of the best I've ever seen and completely succeeded in expediating exposition in a fascinating way. However, the gang of heroes featured some major duds which caused issue with pacing. Dr. Manhattan...was...boring...each of his scenes seem to stretch out across time and space. The chick that played Laurie (a Swede)...yawn. Patrick Wilson, really? Must you always play pent-up sexual frustration types? Why are you in this movie? I don't really want to spend time critiquing this film because it is so epic and requires quite a bit to successfully support my case. But suffice to say, I was not entertained by a 2.5+ hour storyboard. When adapting from source text, decisions must be made, things cut, angles selected. In spite of all the danger abounding in Watchmen, the writers played it pretty safe so as not to alienate their fanbase. But the ultimate slap is an unmemorable movie buried in March.

Dull the pain with snacks from Shack Shake...now on the upper west side near the Natural History Museum.

This will just take a second...Oscar-nominated shorts and Momofuku Milk Bar

One of the treats of big city living is the opportunity to check out films that don't make the rounds at the mall megaplex. You can only see Paul Bart so many times... The Oscar shorts are a handful of films live-action, documentary, and animated under forty minutes gathered from all over the world. Only Academy members who have attended special shorts screenings get to cast their vote. Too bad democracy doesn't work like that. What is so fascinating about these films is they really are the only "Films" with a capital F in statue contention. They are non-linear (sometimes), culturally-specific, non-commercial, driven by technique sans star wattage, big budgets or major studio backing. Until Itunes movie rental, you couldn't see them at home legally. So why make them? They offer the directors and creative teams to really showcase their craft. I don't think you could get a better demo reel.

This year I caught the live-action and animated shorts at the IFC in the West Village. The live action contenders came to us from Ireland, Germany, France, and Denmark. Topics ranging from genocide in two cases, gang violence in two cases, a bicycle crash, and a funny-looking painting of a pig. Death is a very popular plotline in the live action short as it quickly establishes (or hopes to) an emotional connection to the proceedings. How else to convey a communal sense of loss with characters you met two minutes ago? Show them losing a loved one. Or re-visit a harrowing historical period (holocaust, African civil unrest) for which the audience has an educated pre-text. While none of the films were without flaws, I think I enjoyed The New Boy (Ireland) and Manon on the Asphalt (France) the best, though according to predictions at Entertainment Weekly, neither stand a chance against the token holocaust film. The New Boy focused on the new kid in an Irish classroom who is immediately targeted by the class bullies. Meanwhile he remembers his school life before, with his father as a teacher in a one-room African school house. Manon on the Asphalt finds the title character in a bike crash imagining her closest friends' reactions to her death. What I liked about both these films was the opportunity to explore or to be given access to characters' thoughts in a magical way a la The Lovely Bones. Both heightened the everyday with almost supernatural fantastical elements. In this way, regardless of the cultural milieu the films came out of, they achieve a universality that allows audiences from all backgrounds to feel for the characters.
The animated films were, in a word, bizarre. While the American entries all seemed to follow the same plotline -- under-appreciated animal wants food, goes to absurd lengths to get it, the foreign nominees were a bit more existential. We had dancing corpses, a man who lives 91 cm from himself, domestic strife between a polar bear and a penguin, and some French flick that I think I nodded off during (does not bode well for a 19 minute film). Note -- not all these films were nominated though they are part of the screening. Pixar's Presto (rabbit wants a carrot) only run for its money would be the French 2-minute Oktopi. Two octopi fight for their lives on a Greek Isle. Clever animation and very engaging. It also marks the third movie this year that has made me want to relocate to Greece (the first two: Mamma Mia and Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants-- in my defense, on a plane). Although not entirely. Because I bet Greece doesn't get the Oscar shorts. Or more importantly, Greece doesn't have David Chang's Momofuku Milk Bar in the East Village. Salivate over this list: http://www.momofuku.com/bakery/bakery%20menu.asp

Bring your spoon to this festival of wonderful menu items. Snickerdoodle soft serve topped with pistachio...or how about a slice of blue cheese polenta or crack pie. Sure they'll be gone in a moment, but it was good while it lasted.

Get Ready for the Oscar Drinking Game

Burst out the bubbly (in these recessionary times, pink Andre) and get ready for Bean Screen's first annual Oscar drinking game. The rules are simple:
Take a sip each time the following things inevitably occur at this year's award ceremony (commences when Hugh Jackman steps on stage). Winner is determined by greatest number of sips.

-Someone mentions the bailout, the recession, or an opening for a commerce secretary
-Presenters are paired oldest to youngest, a la Benjamin Button
-Presenters are paired potentially gay to obviously gay, a la Milk
-Winner thanks India or Harvey Weinstein
-Winner's speech is interrupted by music swell prompting winner to blurt out unintelligible list of names
-Someone remarks at length of ceremony
-Or length of "Australia"
-A gown inspired by Michelle Obama
-A hairdo inspired by Sarah Palin (or worse, Blagojevich)
-Amy Adams wears a strapless dress
-Mickey Rourke forgot to do laundry
-Close-up on smug couple Pitt/Jolie
-Phillip Seymour Hoffman brings his mom
-Riff on classic line, "I see a lot of new faces tonight. New faces on old faces."
-Paul Newman is the last frame in "in memory"
-Someone answers a cell phone or seems to be fiddling with a blackberry
-Boring clip montage
-Bollywood dance number
-Wall-E wheels on stage
-Dick Cheney wheels on stage
-Meryl Streep is wearing pants
-Kate Winslet is holding index cards
-Richard Jenkins is mistaken for a seatfiller
-Wins for Slumdog
-Losses for Button
-Cheers for our new president
-Boos for Prop 8
-Dress weighs more than actress
-Statue weighs more than actress
-Appearance by nerdy Pricewaterhouse accountants
-bellkicks by Hugh Jackman

He's Just Not That Into You and Riposo 72

I quote the contemporary sage Beyonce, "If you liked it then you shoulda putta ring on it." This truism and others are explored through the Baltimore dating scene, an ode to the confused state of modern male-female relationships.

Parts of this chick flick made me want to jump out a window (or more realistically, grab my face to cover my eyes, as if this gesture could save the character on screen from their own awkwardness). Sure the situations were somewhat exaggerated (the dentist's pen, really?), but there was just enough realism to make me feel as if I was watching a horror movie based on my friends' lives (My Bloody Valentine?). I saw the embarassing missteps and wanted to scream "Don't go in there!!" to the troubled heroines. But instead, I held my cynical tongue. After all, these characters, like your girlfriends, don't want your real advice, they want you to soothe their wounded hearts and egoes. They want you to google destination weddings for them and the dude they just met on the elevator.

The film assesses these situations pretty fairly, albeit glossily (appropriate that the ladies work in marketing as isn't that what these relationships have become? Clever branding. I have also never seen the city of BMore look so white. Apparently yoga mats come compliments of your city taxes). Even Scarlett Johansson doesn't get want she is after. And she's freakin ScarJo!

When it comes to love, we behave irrationally no matter what people advise us. But as Ginnifer Godwin tells Justin Long, the drama of the pursuit is way better (questionably?) than the isolated alternative. You have to give to get. And if you build it (become a whole, interesting, fun person), they will come. And as clever film execs say, if you cast it with hip Gen-Xers, adapt a popular chick lit title, target the V-Day girl power demographic, and hand out free Crest Whitnening strips, they will come...and buy overpriced popcorn while frenetically checking their blackberries to see if he facebook messaged them.

As for the other pearls of wisdom, I think I will start taking dating advice from Hollywood when Ben Affleck proposes to me.

Until then, big girls don't cry. They drink. Forget the Joe (and the Steve, the Justin, the Giles...) and share a bottle of Pinot with your gal pals at Riposo 72, my favorite wine bar on the upper west side.

Black Market Blogging: The Reader, Waltz with Bashir (last season: Eagle Eye, Inside Man)

I am stuck in an empty German library on Fifth Ave for the next 90 minutes...reasons too bizarre to go into. What better opportunity to play blog catch up.

First and foremost, it is Oscar season, a film buff's NFL playoffs. Except replace Budweiser ads with holocaust commentary...scantily clad beer wenches with birthday suited Kate Winslets. Hollywood is known for honoring those who have been slighted in past ceremonies, as well as those who disfigured themselves for the betterment of cinema (please see: Nicole Kidman's prosthetic nose, Hillary Swank's boyish haircut). In the case of The Reader, the moment I saw Kate's transition to cataractic prisoner, I envisioned her on the Kodak podium with earrings accompanied by bodyguards. Sam Mendes is waving from the audience.

The Reader was a good film. It was not a great film. In a better season, it would have been released in October, not December, and would not have made the Academy's top 5. But the Weinsteins are clever, as are Daldry/Hare, Pollack/Mighella (RIP) and now it will earn a place in the 00s cannon where The Lives of Others should be.

This was a movie of two halves, but not necessarily one whole. We have the "Kid" Michael(played expertly by a newcomer) and the Guard Hannah who develop a sexual relationship after Hannah helps Michael home when he is coming down with scarlet fever. Hannah is illiterate and in exchange for sex, young Michael reads to her. A great scene: the two in the bath, Michael paging through a racy DH Lawrence, Hannah looks insulted, tells him that the story is inappropriate, but please "Go on." Their love affair ends when Hannah is promoted and Michael decides to play with kids his own age. But their connection has a lasting effect on both.

We enter the second half of the film. Michael, now in law school, is observing a trial of SS guards charged with killing Jews at the concentration camps. Hannah is among them. He is conflicted--knowing what she did was wrong, but also feeling for her in his heart that she is a good and loving person. The trial is very emotional, but the camera leans more on him and his waring conscience than the historical proceedings. Michael has an opportunity to come forth at one point on her behalf and choose not to. This decision haunts him the rest of the film, as Hannah is locked up for the rest of her life.

I was engaged for more than two hours, making ethical sense of this film, battling like Michael, to understand how Hannah could have participated in genocide. However, the script doesn't fill in the intermediary years. I was left to my own devices. Plus Ralph Fiennes, the older Michael, has always creeped me out. I exited the theatre (the Paris on 58th---so beautiful and regal) feeling uneasy and disturbed. One of the final scenes, the Manhattan penthouse of a holocaust survivor came off as almost entirely unsympathetic. I couldn't quite tell you why. Mostly because I felt like Ralph Fiennes was trying to seduce her. And secondly, because the conspicuous consumption decor seemed to make light of the horrible past she had experienced. Though the line about the Jewish literacy charity got a good laugh from the audience, probably her neighbors.

Nonetheless I will recommend this film for at least prompting some interesting discussion.

Waltz with Bashir, Israel's contribution to the foreign film category, was unsettling for other reasons. We have a documentary filmmaker piecing together his memories from the Lebannon war in trippy animated interviews with friends. While I liked this concept in theory, the delivery was a little choppy. I had a tough time distinguishing the perspectives of the interviewees through all the jumbled "Waking Life-esque" segments. The last 10 minutes were brutal. I immediately had to treat myself to a serious shopping binge, even though we are in a recession and I know that the issues of this film are still being waged today. See the front page of any international newspaper. The last time I left a movie this emotionally charged: maybe Monster with Charlize Theron or Monster's Ball with Halle Berry. I had no choice but watch Simpsons marathons while eating smores.

Because I try to pair the serious with the seriously ludicrous thrillers, I also Netflixed Inside Man directed by Spike Lee and Eagle Eye starring Shia LeBeouf. Both entertained and gave me a great idea: Shia and Clive Owen! Son and father! I am not sure how you would account for the sullen and the satin voice, but wow. Inside Man garnered rave reviews, but I am not sure as to why. It seemed unfinished and I am a little peeved by Denzel's phoned in performances as of late. I did, however, love the A.R. Rahman Bollywood-infused soundtrack. Perhaps it will be the year of bhangra? They are making a sequel. Though I am not sure what bank is still worth robbing?

Meanwhile, our current drug of choice are Starbucks tea infusions. Get them before your local Starbucks goes under. And that it is not a twig floating in your Earl Grey, it is part of the concoction. Don't panic. We are only fearing peanut butter right now.