Film: RIP Garry Marhsall, the guy who made Julia Roberts a star, dies at 81

Famed director and producer Garry Marshall has died. He was 81 years old.

Marshall, who created some of the most popular 1970's TV shows -- including "Mork and Mindy" and "Happy Days," and directed hit films like "Pretty Woman" and "The Princess Diaries" -- died yesterdayin a Burbank hospital, his publicist Michelle Bega confirmed.

Marshall passed away from complications of pneumonia following a stroke at a hospital, Bega said in a statement Tuesday.

The Hollywood legend directed, produced and starred in films and TV shows since the late 1950's.

He directed 18 films, including big screen hits like "Beaches," "Overboard," "Runaway Bride," "Valentine's Day" and 1990's "Pretty Woman," which made a star of Julia Roberts and gave Richard Gere his first hit in years.

Theatre:Like a Good Lover, "He Said, She Said" Builds steam as it goes along

Oftentimes, specially in the Jamaican context, that which seems the easiest reach is hardest to grasp; the "obvious" topics, like sex and the contradictions between the sexes, are often played so cheaply as to do a disservice to the issue

Happily for this writer, and the rest of the audience, the new Elllis International revue "He Said, She Said" has a strong grasp to enable its broad reach.

Against a minimalist backdrop, the opening number "Too Much Sex" unfolded and ended with not too much promise for a great evening. Set to the tune of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons'  "Sherry" it had the  workmanlike feel of an awkward tryst, a necessary preliminary endured before one " gets down to business".

But like any good lover, the players and the script certainly gathered steam, becoming collectively more self-assured as the session wore on.

It hit its first stride in a skit we'll call "Come When I Come Back". Its " the morning after" and a young woman raises the issue of her man's apparent lack of stamina (though he does get her to claim that she enjoyed it), which leads to protests, reasoning, and perhaps a little of the unexpected. When, out of frustration, the hapless man blurts out "Yu too hard!!" The woman delivers what must be the comeback of the night:"Well at least ONE of us is!"

There's  no shortage of big laughs but the play delivers its first of two "money shots" (yes, we're using term) just before the interval. Inside a Golden Age Home two elderly women take their turn (the men having previously taken the stage) at shredding myths about sex in old age and poking fun at both men and the type of Bible-toting, holier than thou church ladies that "seem" uninterested in ribaldry. Its the best constructed skit of the night (you have to listen right up to the punch line).

The second comes at the end, with a dual set-up, indicative of the title. On one side, a guy is holding forth to his 'bredren' about his devastating sexual performance on a particular girl, while on the other side, said girl is destroying boasts while dishing to her girlfriends. Its not by any means an original construct, but its the execution that counts, and the protagonists, Tesfa Edwards and Kathy Grant, make it count through spot-on timing and impassioned deliveries.

Several of the skits in the second half attempt to examine the fractious issue of how men relate to men. The best of these is "2Guys at the Gym",  in which two longtime friends compare notes on personal preferences and wonder how is it that their respective spouses don't understand them as well as they understand each other. Its an issue and a perspective that don't often make their way onto the Jamaican stage, but should.

Every revue depends on music, and the producers' selections, whether accompanying or between skits, are certainly commendable. In addition to the previously mentioned, there are adaptations of the Ffolkes Brothers classic "Oh Carolina" (3 guesses as to which part of the female anatomy that's used in conjunction with), and Peter Tosh's enduring cover of Chuck Berry's "Johnny B Goode".

And then, there is "I'll Vento". Working in the vein of DJ Buccaneer's "Skettel Concerto" the operatic number ("Soave al Il Vento" from Mozart's Cosi Fan Tuute)) is used in service of arguably the night's most hilarious solo skit, complete with the obligatory ghetto malapropisms and dropped consonants.

Which brings us to the final important aspect of the play. The limited and often ruthlessly efficient sexual vocabulary of many contemporary Jamaican men ( amplified in the male-dominated dancehall field) is countered and indeed supplemented by more open discourse, whether its the young man proudly declaring that his masculinity is not compromised by buying "a six-pack of Stayfree maxis with wings" for his girl, the bored and lusty housewife longing for the attention of the hunky gardener next door, or the aforementioned bromance at the gym. That the work has much more on its mind than "gettin' some" and playing for cheap laughs is impressively evident.

But fear not, of laughs there are plenty, and there's also more than enough sexual situations and references to go around. He Said She Said may at times come off rude, but it definitely also knows how to mind its manners.

Satisfaction guaranteed.

Culture: Getting (Kinda) Serious about Comedy

Do we laugh to hide the sadness within ("tek kin teet kibba heart bun")?; do we poke fun at figures, public (mostly) and private for the good of the many, or the mirth of the few? How linked are comedy and music in the hearts and minds of Jamaicans, and do Jamaican comics get the respect they deserve viz-a-vis other creative types as well as opposed to foreigners?

The above was just a sample of the questions addressed in a robust, free-wheeling and individualized session at the N1 Lecture Theatre (Humanities) at the UWI on Sunday last.

Entitled "Put Fun and Joke Aside" (another prime Jamaican expression), the session was led by Tanya Batson-Savage of Blue Moon Publishers - Blouse and Skirt Books, and featured two of the more firmly established and widely beloved comedic talents.

For some years, Dr Michael Abrahams (above, left) has been balancing his ob-gyn specialist "day job" with poetic comedy expositions both live and and on television. Hie oeuvre is largely satirical, cataloging the many current social ills and skewering public figures form many quarters.

Between his duo work with Winston  "Bello" Bell, his teaching duties at the School of Drama and his own dual-resident comedy schedule (Jamaica and Canada, with other stops in between) there are hardly any trails that Owen "Blakka" Ellis has not blazed, although he did take time earlier this year, to launch a poetry collection, "Riddim and Riddles" under the Blue Moon/Blouse and Skirt imprint ( copies were, of course, sold at the  event).

the two are not only well known to the public, but to each other, despite Ellis' seniority as a performer, and their unforced rapport and readiness with an ad-libbed zinger or phrase made for an enjoyable but also illuminating morning's exploration into the seriousness of  comedy - of doing it, and of living it.

As could be expected the moderated sessions and the Q & A covered almost every topic and sub-topic imaginable, ably interspersed with "readings" - Ellis from the book, and Abrahams, as is his wont, performing ex tempo, and accompanying himself on guitar for a scathing send-up of the recent (and ongoing?) social and environmental debacle that is the Riverton landfill fire(s).

At the ned of it all, the large audience were left with a greater appreciation for the sentiment summed up in the words of actor Edmund Kean: "dying is easy, comedy is difficult"

If only they didn't make it look so easy

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Hai-Yaaaadie!!!! Twin of Twins Kick it up with Ching Pow

Having leaped back into the public consciousness with "Up With the Money" their long-form video commentary on today's divisive Jamaica, dancehall duo and agitators, Twin of Twins have gone one better.

The Gaynor Twins have teamed with Jamaican  filmmaker Bruce Hart to deliver "Ching Pow: Far East Yardies."

As the name suggests, is a comedy, which utilizes remixed Kung-Fu film with audio provided by popular Jamaican comedy team Twin of Twins. Cult Kung Fu film, Ninja Death parts One, Two and Three, which recently entered the public domain and is therefore available for public use, has been edited to create one film.

If "Up With the Money nad the Twins' recorded oeuvre is anything to go by, then Ching Pow, should be well worth the time invested, and scores of audience members have voiced that very sentiment.

I'll be adding my own voice of comment after this weekend, when I actually see the production, but I encourage you to not just tak my word for it - go get your Chinses robe and let fly with 'Ching Pow"

The Angels' Share: A Superior Malt

The background of The Angels' Share, his latest collaboration with the leftwing Scottish lawyer turned screenwriter Paul Laverty, is the widespread, seemingly permanent youth unemployment and the despair and communal erosion it engenders. But the realistic and humanistic tone is bracingly optimistic, and it's one of the 75-year-old Loach's more robust films.

The movie begins with a group of criminals brought together by chance in the manner ofThe Usual Suspects and gradually modulates into a heist comedy that combines two classic Scottish films, both directorial debuts from different eras, Alexander Mackendrick's Whisky Galore! (1949) and Bill Forsyth'sThat Sinking Feeling (1980).

The young offenders, played by non-professional actors who perform brilliantly under Loach's sympathetic direction, are introduced at Glasgow's City Court when pleading guilty to a variety of crimes. Their demeanour is playfully contrasted with the solemnity of the bewigged judge, and most of the offences are quite minor – petty theft, defacing public statues, drunkenness in a public place. However, one of the defendants, Robbie (Paul Brannigan), is up for grievous bodily harm, and he's only saved from another custodial sentence because his girlfriend is eight months pregnant.

All of them are given community service and are fortunate to come under the supervision of Harry (John Henshaw, a familiar face from TV drama and the occasional movie), a middle-aged, working-class Mancunian who forges a bond with Robbie.The unemployed Robbie, determined to go straight and be a good father, appears to have everything against him – a history of violence (there's a revealing razor scar on his left cheek) and his girlfriend's brutal father, who's determined to get him out of Glasgow and away on his own, whether by force or bribery. Harry could be his salvation.

 Robbie and the companions hear of an extremely valuable old whisky being auctioned at a Highland distillery and plan an ultra lo-tech heist to give them the nest-egg they need. The unwitting participants in their plot are Harry, who has encouraged Robbie's newfound passion, and a sophisticated broker who deals in rare whisky .

The entire cast is excellent but, in addition to those already mentioned, have to give special praise to Gary Maitland as the uncannily canny comic relirf Albert, and the lovely Jasmin Riggins as "to-the-point" kleptomaniac Mo. In the lead role of Robbie, Paul Brannigan mixes rage, hope, self-loathing, swagger and wit as deftly as I've ever seen.

So there is politics underlying every aspect of this funny, warm-hearted, deftly plotted film, and we fervently wish for the caper planned by this endearing quartet to succeed. The film's title, The Angels' Share, refers to the 2% (or so) of whisky that evaporates in the cask each year. An interesting item of distilling lore, it's initially a joke about capitalist exploitation that turns at the end of the film into a metaphor for generosity and gratitude.

**Thanks to David Morrison for allowing me to attend his film screening series. The movies are shown every weekend (Fridays and Saturdays ) at Kingston's Liguanea Club (and sometimes at Red Bones

Movie Book Pt III - Review Revue: Selected Review Films

Better Mus Come

Better Mus Come begins with a poem before proceeding to a shootout at a political rally - in between there's a young single father trying to care for his son in a harsh innercity slum.

Its a very appropriate opener for a highly stylized, and ultimately successful attempt to capture the paradoxes that characterize Jamaica, which most of us take for granted, but which perplex foreigners.
Its 1978, and tensions between the two political parties are red hot, red with blood and muzzle flares. But the film is viewed notthrough the prism of the politicians - who appear only fleetingly, but through the young men  - and women - who their outsize ambitions and lust for power manipulate and hold captive.

For the next 20-40 minutes, the story unfolds largely in vignette form, darting and skipping furtively from scene to scene like a gangster trying to evade a police raid.

Thereafter, the narrative gradually but noticeably becomes more sure-footed and the film progresses more fluidly to its tragic conclusion (that's as much as I'll give away for those who haven't seen it). Indeed, there's lots to like about this movie, not least - understandably - the music (both the score and the soundtrack are fabulous.

Also, Better Mus Come reaffirms Jamaica as one of the most  - if not the most - 'cinegenic' (my coinage) of locations. Even the grimiest slum scenes have a vibrance about them that cannot be put down to mere artifice. the actors all perform creditably - Sheldon Shepherd in the lead role has a good future ahead based solely on his presence (here's hoping he can actually get some roles) and Ricardo Orgill as the "resident hothead" and Everaldo Creary as the part-time DJ and jokester with a brutal streak, also light up the screen.

Better Mus' Come's arrival on the Jamaican scene is both auspicious and ironic. Auspicious because it breaks a long drought for indigenous feature films and heralds a mini-wave of renewed cinematic interest in Jamaica (at least two other Jamaican-themed featured are set to roll out shortly). Ironic, at least form the party political point of view, as its strong undertone of disenchantment with the then ruling party is now mirrored with the opposite party, the electoral tables having been turned  (but then, what's new?).

As to how it'll play overseas, that's a different question. It's well made, but somehow doesn't seem to be the stuff of which Hollywood Reporter front pages are made. Cliched as it may sound, Europe seems a better bet, or even Canada, and foreign language re-dubs could well find a comfortable home in South America.

Its not the Jamaican classic it aspires to be, but Better Mus Come is a timely and worthy addition to the annals of Jamaican film.

MAN ON WIRE  & INCEPTION

Two contrasting movies, both brilliant, about the power of dreams and ideas. First up, on a misty morning in August 1974, lifelong wire-walker Philippe Petit and his accomplices (mostly French, but a couple of Yanks as well) completed one of the most stunning feats of daring in modern history: he walked a tightrope stretched between the Twin Towers of the World Trade Centre in New York City. James Marsh's retellling of the momentous feat is itself one of the most deeply affecting films I have seen in a long time.
Most gripping of all is the painstaking and fateful process by which Petit and his band of lawbreakers (the film's title comes from the police entry on the official arrest warrant, in the section, "nature of complaint")and the visuals of Petit "reaching the clouds" (the film is adapted from his book by that title) are truly awe-inspiring. rent it, borrow it - heck! steal it even, but see this movie.

Of more current vintage, director Christopher Nolan, with great help form his cast, handily proves, once again, that the term "smart action-thriller" need not be an oxymoron.

The plot centers on the ability to enter other persons' dreams and thereby alter the dreamscape and remove vital information therefrom. Quite handy for the elegant but clearly illegal business of corporate espionage, which is what mostly occupies the time of lead character Dom Cobb (Leo Di Caprio). But of course, things aren't quite what they seem.

Nolan's fight and action scenes are as visually arresting as anything out of Hong Kong or Hollywood, but the action never overwhelms nor interferes with the writer-director's mission of exploring the power of ideas and the unfathomable maze that is the human mind.

As stated before, the cast is uniformly good, but Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Ken Watanabe are the standouts as well as Frenchie Marion Cotillard.
treat yourself to a movie that satisfies on all levels. Head to the Palace circuit and see Inception. 


With great help from his cast Christopher Nolan once again handily proves that the term "smart action-thriller" is not an oxymoron

Runaway [music video]

Kanye West epitomizes the dichotonous nature of today's hip-hop. Like jazz, it has proven, over a relatively short existence, an able adapter, incorporating numerous other genres. Like its genetic twin, dancehall, it can also be maddeningly one-dimensional and crass.

Such is the nature of West who, on this wanna-be magnum opus designed to hype the market in advance of his new full-length CD, My Dark , Beautiful, Twisted Fantasy, displays a penchant for both high art and lowbrow "hoodisms"

Nowhere on this 3-min long-form video is this more evident than in what I call the "ballerina sequence" . As dancers in black tutus pirouette and cavort elegantly within sight of  a long banquet table at which the diners are all dressed in white, West raps "24/7, 365 p---y stays on my mind"

The story itself is simple - a Phoenix like creature (female) flames to earth, where she has to grasp the complexities of her new environment and where she also falls in love with West.

Visually lush, sonically diverse, and intelligently crafted, Runaway can be forgiven its excesses, especially since its creator so willingly acknowledges them in the first place.

HARRY POTTER & THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PT. I

Of course, it was already more than obvious that iconic wizard Harry Potter and his cohorts Ron and Hermionie had already grown way past their Hogwarts undergrad roots.

But this, the first half of a split final instalment (part II is slated for Summer 2011) essentially confirms that the trio is no longer at the institute of wizardry and witchcraft. They're not on their own; much of the expanding cast that saw them through the last couple of Potter flicks is back, except, of course for the venerable Dumbledore, even though the story's resolution hinges in part on him (or something of his).

In any case, evil takes no rest and the chillingly ruthless Lord Voldemort is gathering his own forces for the final assault on goodness and in particular, on the wizardly boy wonder. Voldemort's growing strength pushes the 'kids' further out into the Muggles world and thus into greater exposure.

This means, among other things, more adult disguises and more hyped-up action (chases, battle scenes, etc). Some posted reviews have cited this new Potter as slow, but from this vantage point, its not the pacing that's the problem; its the soul, or lack of it. There's a 'let's just do it and get it over with' air that pervades the film, particularly in the interactions between Harry and Ron, who make a bit of a Steinbeckian pair (broad-shouldered Ron towers like a Lennie over the more wiry, Lennie-like Harry).

As usual, there are good performances from the repertory players (Alan Rickman, Bill Nighy and helena Bonham-Carter all shine in their respective roles) and Alphonse Cuaron's direction is generally sure-footed.

Simply, the new Potter, as the "beginning of the end" won't disappoint hardcore Harry-philes and won't prove intimidating to the scattered few newbies left.  

THE NEXT THREE DAYS

How far would you really go for love? Would you bust your wife out of jail?

That's the premise of this intense and sometimes credulity-stretching film from Paul Haggis (Crash, In The Valley of Elah), with Russell Crowe the doting husband and father who is jolted into action following on the arrest and imprisonment of his wife for the murder of her boss.

Through research, Crowe's character, John Brennan to "escape expert" (read jailbird) Damon Pennington (Liam Neeson, making the best of his five minutes) who advises him to plan down to the minutest detail. John takes this advice to heart, and the film's middle third is taken up with the minutiae of mastering guard and delivery schedules, disposing of his house and preparing for the getaway. Moreover, this segment shows John's increasing isolation from his parents, and even from his who is, naturally, unaware of the plan, and is going stir crazy.

Indeed, the last three Days only really gets going within the last 30 minutes, when Brennan actually springs his well-laid plan into action. Of course, the unexpected surfaces, and Brennan has to think on his feet. The audience is swept along in the pursuit, with the police and authorities perennially a few steps behind the couple, and with the wife (Elizabeth Banks) nearly sabotaging the whole thing on her own.

An Oscar-winning screenwriter( Million Dollar Baby) as well as a director, Haggis is adept at layering his story's revelations, but ultimately we don't quite learn as much about the hero and about his relationship with his spouse as we would like. Things are suggested, possibilities raised and scenarios are painted, but the full narrative punch somehow seems to elude us.

Nevertheless, while at times formulaic, 'Three Days' is never frivolous and as suspense action-thrillers go, will more than serve in this pre-holiday period.

SEASON OF THE WITCH

So, until the inevitable Sorcerer's Apprentice sequel, audiences are thrown this tired bag of bones to chew on (and the Sorcerer's Apprentice was hardly a worthwhile meal in the first place).

This time around, modern-day NYC has been forsaken, its back to medieval Europe, in the grip of the plague while many, many leagues east, knights hack the 'infidels' to death under the urging of chain mail-wearing priests. Sorcerers and zealots good; witches, bad. At least that's the comparison that's being begged by this set-up. Cage here is one of the aforesaid knights, renowned for his battlefield skills and valor, but disgusted by the killing and distrustful of his masters' religious zealotry.

He, along with his compadre (well played by Hellboy's Ron Perlman) choose to desert the Crusading army, and spend days wandering through death and desolation before alighting upon a town, decimated by the plague. Here, they are "unexpectedly" pressed back into serving the church, this time to deliver an accused witch (Claire Foy, from "Little Dorritt") for "trial" at some far-off monastery, accompanied by a priest (Stephen Campbell Moore) an aspiring knight, a wily salesman (read "con") and a town elder who has lost his entire family to the contagion.

All the visual bells and whistles are there, particularly in the cliamactic scene when things get really ugly, and  director Dominic Sena (who previously worked with Cage in Gone In Sixty Seconds) clearly knows how to get maximum mileage from the assigned talent.

The problem is Cage himself. All the promise of Rumblefish and Birdy and Racing with the Moon and Raising Arizona has just been thrown out the window and then trampled on. It appears, especially since the blockbuster success of National Treasure, that Cage is content to shoulder a kind of "occult-lite" formula, bringing little to these films other than his mere presence, which I guess in itself accounts for bang atte box office.

 This writer certainly wasn't expecting him to stay in the same quirky mode of his earlier work for his whole career, but this is worse: big-name schlock done purely for expected profit. Whatever the current state of his finances (reports abound of money disputes and impending bankruptcy), its sad to see good talent squandered in this way. he needs a "Refresh" and soon.

But, with the Ghost Rider sequel filming as we speak, creative renewals will just have to wait

The Hangover Part II

Producers and execs: "Okay, so we made hundreds of millions with the last one. How do we top it?"

Answer: "Why, with penises, of course!"

One can almost hear the conversation unfolding in the Warner Bros. "Situation Room". Faced with honing the formula without making it unrecognizeable, director Todd Phillips and writers Craig Mazin and Scott Armstrong set out to exploit the still considerable shock power of the male organ. This time, when the guys wake up with temporary amnesia after a night of pre-nuptial debauchery, they find themselves in a Bangkok dive; instead of a tiger, they're greeted by a monkey and, shortly thereafter, by the partially obscured penis of "international criminal" Mr Chow (Ken Jeong) with whom they had a drug-related run-in in the first movie.

Needless to say, the situation snowballs rapidly from there: Stu, the dentist, and the groom in this instance, has a tattoo on his face; Alan, the zany-raunchy idiot-savant of the first movie now has a buzz cut in contrast to his  bushy sideburns and beard, and Phil.....well, more on him later.

The challenge this time around is to find Stu's future brother-in-law, Teddy (Mason Lee, the son of "Brokeback Mountain" director Ang Lee), himself the favoured son of the Thai immigrant family that Stu is set to join.

The quest for Teddy leads through Bangkok's seamy nightlife, where one of the city's notorious "lady-boys" (let's call them "intersexuals" - female faces, breasts and  - you guessed it - ding-a-lings) confesses to  a night of wild abandon with Stu with the following classic zinger: "I shoot load in you, you shoot load on floor." Bradley Cooper, as Phil, takes on the role of straight man with even more assurance than he did two years earlier and Zach Galifianakis smartly tweaks his "stupid is smart" schtik to suit the needs of the new locale.

Armed with that knowledge, they journey from Bhuddist monastery to city centre high-rise to riverside cafe until the mission is accomplished. But whilst the film's pace is zippy, and the scenes in which Mr Chow - inevitably - reappears are almost worth the ticket price, a good portion of the thrill is understandably gone from this sequel. That air of "will they or won't they make it?" has essentially been replaced with "what other crap will they get into now?" The waste of Paul Giamatti, as an undercover Interpol agent, is almost unforgivable.

Still, if you're a big  fan, this extension of Hollywood's newest franchise offers just enough high-speed chase, ridiculous culture clash and super-raunch to meet your expectations. The rest will be scratching their heads every so often and wondering, in the words of the cast....."What tha --?!"

[Author’s Note: oddly enough, it was this review post, of a film I was markedly disappointed by, that pushed my blog views to the level they are now. I remain gratified, if mystified by the popular reception of this nearly botched sequel]

Drive
With no fewer than 20 previous features with the same title, one could well be forgiven lowering expectations for this thriller, even with Ryan Gosling in the starring role.

But this spacey, yet intense work, from Danish import Nicholas Winding Refn not only shows Gosling, the hot Hollywood property of the moment, firmly in control, but more than adequately challenged by Albert Brooks, near flawless as the urbane yet sadistic loan shark who dogs him almost from the beginning.

Our hero (he's never actually named)  in fact moonlights as a wheelman (that is, he drives a getaway car for bank robbers, etc) in between doing movie stunts and working for a local mechanic, who calls him only "The Kid". In his apartment building, he meets Elise (Carey Mulligan) a young mother who's awaiting her partner's release from prison, but not, as it turns out with great eagerness. The two engage in a wonderfully underplayed semi-platonic affair.

Two dark threads interwine with this urban idyll. First, the mechanic fancies himself a stock car owner with the Kid at the helm but, of course such things need money, and lots more of it than he can lay his hands on. Enter Brooks, who routes his operation through a pizza parlor owned by an outcast Jewish mafioso (the suitably creepy Ron Perlman).

The second issue is that Elise's spouse, a small-time hood with the oddly statesmanlike name of Standard Gabriel, has been sprung, but he still owes protection money to another bad guy, who's now demanding (with a serious beating as persuasion), that he rob a certain local pawnshop as part settlement on his "debt".

Seeing the distress that Gabriel's position places on mother and son, our hero chips in - he offers to drive the getaway car, of course. This brings him into contact with said bad guy and the luscious but hapless Christina Hendricks (Oh the fantasies...but, we digress), a gangster's moll who even the gangster is apt to ignore.

Of course, the job is a set-up. It yields an indeterminately large sum of cash, but also precipitates a high-speed chase and marks the step-up point in the movie's violence quotient. Gabriel is shot dead at the scene, and not too long after that, the luscious redhead is dispatched with a shotgun blast to head.

Gosling, forced to keep his head whilst all about him are losing theirs, demonstrates he knows his way around guns and improvised weapons the way he knows his way around cars. Also, as tender as he was with Elise, he's not above slapping said gangster's moll half silly, in order to get at the truth.

Laconic, and with a seemingly permanent half-smirk throughout the proceedings, our hero might seem hard to like, but Gosling does a good job of humanizing him and investing him with a strong, but off-kilter sense of morality.

The "Miami Vice-style" titles and cinematography may be a bit off-putting, depending on your visual taste, and there's also the near cheesy New Wave soundtrack (I'm not knocking New Wave). But beyond that, Drive is a film in which heart and mind are aligned to offer some real surprises - most of them welcome.

Take it for a spin and see.

There Be Dragons
"In a child's heart, there are many seeds; who knows which will bloom"

With strong shades of The Kite Runner, Writer-producer-director Roland Joffe (The Mission) delves into the Spanish Civil War of the 1930s to produce a stirring missive on faith, betrayal, shame, forgiveness and redemption.

The story actually starts in the 1980s, with a writer trying to piece together the strands of myth concerning a Catholic priest who braved both the Fascists and the Communists in doing good and ministering to the locals, the movie's main sub-plot.

The priest, we learn, is the childhood friend of a Fascist who has infiltrated the ranks of the Communists, seeking to avenge the death of his industrialist father. On the way he also falls in love with the paramour of the Communist leader.

Their adult paths scarcely cross and Joffe weaves a complex yet compelling tapestry as the son slowly uncovers the sins of the father. In a film world where war scenes have overblown, technologically dictated snoozefests, the conflicts here retain the full measure of immediacy and urgency. The film's religious thread, while strong, never overwhelms, and the characters always come off as flesh and blood human beings rather than one-dimensional cardboard cut-outs.

Oscar Wilde is quoted in the movie ad saying "every saint has a past; every sinner a future." the two types meet, meld and transform each other in this slept-on gem of a movie.

Soul Surfer
Its pretty much all there: the set-up, complete with engaging surf action scenes, the breathtaking scenery of Hawaii, the congeniality mixed with intensity as the subject - in this case, champion pro surfer Bethany Hamilton - makes her climb up the rung to sporting glory.

All that's really missing from this affable sports story is the "villain". Understandably, given the need to hew close to a PG-grade rating, the shark which essentially sampled Hamilton's left arm is not even shown at the point of attack - a steadily darkening pool of blood alerts us to the tragedy that sets the story in motion and the beast is only seen a few scenes later, hanging upside down from the end of a line.

Its only substitute is a rival surfer, Malena, who mercilessly muscles Bethany out of choice waves whether she has two arms or one. Dennis Quaid and a badly aging (had to say it) Helen Hunt play the parents who try to navigate their own roles amid the tragedy and the new world of adjustments in its aftermath. And there are brothers, family friends and assorted personalities (media  and otherwise).

But the action of course revolves around Ann Sophia Robb ('Jumper" "Bridge to Terabithia") and she's more than up to the task, delivering credibility both on and off the water. There's also Carrie Underwood, a couple shades of bland as the "voice of wisdom" and leader of Christian relief missions in the aftermath of the tsunami of December 2005. Its on that mission trip - having skipped a previous one to Mexico, that Hamilton "sees the light" of her self-centred value system and regains her appetite for surfing.

As a diversion, Soul Surfer is useful enough; as a surf movie, it doesn't quite measure up to Rick Elgood's 'Surf Rasta" (did that one make to local screens?) or "Point Break" but apart from Christian groups and educators looking for uplifting fare to build sermons and ministries around, there won't be many people who find it essential.

Jackass: 3-D

The folks at MTV Films, producers of this vile and mindless bit of masturbatory diversion, trumpet the "3-D' aspect as if it could somehow lift this garbage to the level of tolerable.

It can't, of course, but the cast and crew obviously couldn't care less about the success or failure of 3-D, or any other device. Redemption, after all, is not what they're after.

Jackass is probably as fail-safe a movie formula as can be imagined: the same mentally regressive Neanderthals that have gone for the TV series and the previous films will almost certainly return for more erupting faeces, brawling midgets and jet-blasted subjects.

The best – no, the only - thing that can possibly be said for this Jackass is that it must have been more fun to make than it is to watch.

LOVE & ROMANCE…”BUY” THE BOOK: Think Like A Man

It takes a little over half the running time, but this over-earnest film adaptation of Steve Harvey’s best-selling relationship primer – Act Lie A Lady Think Like A man actually becomes moderately enjoyable – right at the point where it ceases to be one long, self-important promo for the book (complete with book signing highlights, video commentary from Harvey himself, and scenes of women battling each other for copies the way they would at a half-off brand name clothing sale). At this point, the relationships move appreciably beyond the “mis-matched types squaring off”  and the guys vs girls scenario to something approaching credible human interaction.

Prior to this, audiences have to suffer through Harvey and director Tim Story’s take on boy-meets-girl, complete with a heavy dose of “Harveyisms” – self-coined terms like “sportfish” or We also have to bear the hamming of …. Whose only purpose in the film seems to be to play the

Most credible of all are Taraji Henson and Michael Ealy. Their love amidst the class struggle affair truly resonates naturally, whether  in the aftermath of lovemaking or in the wake of arguments and break-ups.  Romany Malco and Meagan Good also shine as star-crossed opposites – he the confirmed playa, she consigned “good time girl” looking to step up to something serious,  but anxious to avoid justthe type of guy she’s been presented with.

It would hardly be much of a spoiler to state that all the couples find “happily ever after” before the credits roll. The director and writers …. Tie up the loose ends swifter and surer than a sailor in a storm – the ring is presented; the playa confesses true love and the “mama’s boy” (   ) finally cuts the umbilical cord and makes his single-mom hottie the #1 woman in his life.

The producers were clearly intending “Think Like A Man” as the conventional “chick flick” that the guys can also feel a part of. Ideally, the only way the half-serious  filmgoer can survive it is to see it as a watered down war of the sexes  - with likeable salvos from both sides, but no clear winner. 

"Blind Shottas" will have its big night

Still from "Blind Shottas"

Ok, so its not the Carib, or any of the other Palace cinemas, but the Jamaican comedy Blind Shottas will have its Jamaican premiere, at the recently established Stages Theatre in the heart of New Kingston.it will run throughout this weekend (Jun1-3) with a strong possibility of an extended run.

Director Diavallan Fearon

Director Diavallan Fearon is making good on a previous assurance that the posted that the film will have a Jamaican premiere run following the decision by Palace Amusement not to accept the film for screening at it's locations.

That decision led the director and cast members to picket the gates of the Carib  Cineplex, attracting local media attention, with the claim that the exhibitor is biased against the production because its stars and crew originate from the innercity.

given the nature of the controversy, the first run is likely to attract significant public attention, regardless of how the film itself (which copped the top prize at the Reggae Film Festival earlier this year) fares.

Wearing "blinaers" at the Palace

We wanted to wait a while, to give them a chance to answer, but with no word coming out Palace amusement re the movie "Blind Shottas" - an indigenous production, we decided to weigh in.

read our story here, at mnialive. com

http://mnialive.com/lifestyle/mni-view/2365-palace-amusement-cinemas-snubs-new-jamaican-movie-blind-shotta.html

From "The Valley" to "The Backwoods"

Ahh, the late 90s. An interesting time, to say the least for Hollywood. The Clinton Administration was in its scandal-ridden endgame, the "Towers" had not yet been hit and "globalization" not global terror was the main issue. Greed, to some extent, was still considered "good"

And its greed on the part of a pair of grifters (Charlize Theron and  James Spader) that drives the first half of this hard-hitting yet "heartful" caper from John Herzfeld. Withthe not-so-willing co-operation of a pre-Housewives Teri Hatcher, and more help on the side from Danny Aiello as a hitman, the pair are trying to pull offa trciky but lucrative bit of insurance fraud, one that involves murdering their collaborators husband. Eric Stoltz, Robert Carradine, Jeff Daniels, Marsha Mason, Glenne Headley (Dirty Rotten Scoundrels) and a B-List "cast of thousands" round out the roster, and all of them are very good, great fun to watch as the plot careens and blasts its way to its near inevitable ending. One is reminded, especially in Spader's case, of just how solidly he built that bridge between "mainstream weirdo" and art-house hero. Theron, thin as a rake but achingly beautiful, puts her own considerable acting chops to a role that unfortunately diminishes over the course of the movie. Aiello and Headly shine as the "matched misfits" of the piece. The whole thing zips along so neatly that you forgive the director for his cheeky bit of rah-rah at the very end. A rollicking bit of entertainment that is so of its time, its timeless.

A world away from the smoggy freeways and canyons of greater LA, the forests of Northern Spain hold just as much Paddy Consdine and Virginie Ledoyen are a couple in disintegration - we learn that the recent loss of a child (miscarriage?) is but a part of their troubles. They end up in Spain's Basque country atthe urging of their friend - Oldman - who's established a cabin out in the wild Northern woods and who, of course, has his own issues to deal with.

On a hunting trip not too far (In this piece, all distances are "relative") they discover a child being horribly confined in a barn, cold, hungry, scared half to death. That event sets in motion a riveting sequence of pursuit, conflict and resolution involving - among others - a family of local roughnecks, one of whom takes too much of a fancy to the grieving mother, and is not the type to be denied his proclivities.

The two male leads are in top form here, but Considne's character undergoes a metamorphosis from wimpy follower to ruthless leader that would have been hard to swallow but for the sincerity of the interplay between him and the other characters. Oldman displays total commitment as always, and Aitana Sanchez Gijon, as his hen-pecking but devoted lady-friend comes across more convincingly than her counterpart.

Notwithstanding this, and the "strange" ending, Backwoods delivers for viewers in search of compelling action psychodrama, with healthy but considered doses of all those elements .

Two Sides (At Least) of Love: Crazy, Stupid Love & The Hit List

Take a little of Steve Carell's "Office" persona, throw in a contemporary soap opera-type plot, some teen angst, and a little social politics, and you have the basic premise for this mildly entertaining romantic comedy - or more specifically - batch of connected comedic romances.
Cal weaver (Carrell) is hit by a divorce demand from his wife (Julianne Moore), the only woman he has ever been with, after 25 years. She's also admitted to infidelity.The implication is that the shock is seismic, but we don't really see that registered on Cal, who even calmly tells of the incident on their return home. it reaches the ears of their babysitter (who, we soon learn, is nursing an intense crush on Cal) and their precocious 13-year old son who is not shy about voicing his own feelings for the babysitter.

But wait - there's more. After blabbing morosely about his misfortune night after night at the local singles bar, Cal falls under the influence of uber-player Jacob (Ryan Gosling, delivering both the look and feel of the role). After a "What Not To wear"-type makeover and some "fieldwork", Cal is unleashed into the surprisingly welcome arms of Kate (Marisa Tomei), a teacher - and not just any teacher, as the film reveals.

Jacob, for his part, has done the near unthinkable: he has fallen, hard, for Hannah, a budding attorney who has just opted out of her own dead-end relationship. This union too, will have some pretty interesting consequences for Cal.

One is not sure what in this film required two directors, but the pair, John Requa and Glen Ficarra, who previously collaborated on "I Love You, Phillip Morris", working from a script by Dan Fogelman (Tangled) do a fairly commendable job, for the film's middle third, at least, of keeping the varied narrative plates spinning. But farce really isn't their strong suit: the denouement feels clumsy, and that, coupled with the less-than-zippy early build-up mean that "Crazy, Stupid Love" is simply a film that one can neither totally denigrate nor recommend, merely tolerate.    

Joey Lawrence, former child star (as in "former child" and "former star"), clearly seeks redemption with this lighthearted project. Clearly, its not to be found with this role, which casts him opposite (and mostly subservient to) the curvaceous Shirley Brener as an unabashedly self-centred young woman who creates a list of people she wishes were dead (the "List" of the title)  - those persons having committed the cardinal sin of annoying her to varying degrees (#2 makes it onto  the list merely for ignoring her after an 'anti-climactic' sex bout - pardon the pun).

Enter good ol' Joey, as Lyle, bald, chiseled, sharply dressed and driving a Mercedes coupe. Any girl's dream. our heroine falls utterly without suspicion that Lyle's story of being an "independent contractor" has some major holes. Even when her "enemies" (including  seedy local TV weatherman, and even a dog) start dropping like bowling pins, it takes the better part of the film before even a faint bulb goes off in her gorgeously encased brain.

By that time Lyle, he with all the personality of a cardboard sheet, realizes that his cover is blown (we are never convincingly shown his motive for doing her bidding), and what follows is a ridiculous wedding proposal- kidnapping sequence, where the couple ends up in the abandoned canyon which Lyle has transformed into his personal hitman's graveyard.

What happens next is left for viewing, but if you've sat through this much, you're not likely to care. to be fair, director Minh Collin's style is quite engaging, and as stated, Brener is very easy on the eyes - and charismatic. One hopes their respective talents will be put in the service of better cinematic vehicles...and without Joey.      

Whoopi Plays God, Obama Plays Matchmaker: Review Double-Bill

Unfortunately, Whoopi Goldberg playing God, the setting of New Orleans (still in recovery mode, but vibrant), and the addition of Gael Garica Bernal do not quite add up to 'A Little Bit of Heaven'.

The Kate Hudson vehicle is a pleasant enough diversion, but neither the comedy nor the romance have sufficient intensity or zing to really pull the viewer in until almost at the end. Kate plays a successful ad exec and commitment-phobe who is suddenly diagnosed with colon cancer (yes, we'll strive to avoid the cliche). The bearer of this bad news is a "terminally" (okay, we're weak) stiff but ambitious oncologist (Bernal) who's torn between his decidedly unprofessional stirrings for his new patient and his desire to progress in a special advance programme run by an even stiffer senior doctor.

In fairness, Bernal's performance becomes more appreciable once he and Hudson's character become "invovled"  as does that of Kathy Bates, who plays the mom with the victim mentality. And of course, we could not help but mention a few of the other support players: Lucy Punch as the pixieish, "down for whatever co-worker, Romany Malco doing both the token Black (sorry, Whoopi) and token gay male friend roles, and Peter Dinklage (no role is too small for him to blow up) as the "blind date/pick-me-up" recommended by said gay male friend (that encounter is a genuine hoot).

That said, its not a crowning achievement for writer/co-producer Gren Wells or director Nicole Kassell and - most disappointingly - this is a contemporary film set in New Orleans, and there are only two minute scenes involving live music/performance.

They may have been trying to escape formula, but sometimes knowing what you'll get beforehand increases the enjoyment.

Not so the case with the "aspiring" political romantic comedy "The Politics of Love". While the multiple conflicts engendered by the impending election of Barack Obama in 2008 seems fertile ground for the genre, The Politics of Love has all the flavour of an English sausage (apologies to our British friends). Jock-turned-actor Brian White (son of former NFL great Jo Jo White) reps for the Republicans, while straight-from-Bollywood hottie Mallika Sherawat is his bit of "Obama Massala".

The problem? Well, let's let's start with the acting gap. White is competent, and has presence, while the undoubtedly gorgeous Sherawat has all the effective range of my high-school spitballs. Watching them together is almost painful. Thankfully leaven comes in several forms: Anil Raman as the Dem's pothead, ne'er do well younger brother, and Loretta Devine (what hasn't she done?) Trinidad-born Gerry Bednob as her parents who, when they're not fighting, and splitting, and making up, run a restaurant.

The rest is an all-too predictable mish-mash (we're aware of our previous rubric) of movie cliches: bikini car wash, would-be Hooters girls, an obsessed TV news reporter smelling a big story, a manufactured scandal(guess which side is behind it) and so on and so forth.

Its already history of course - Barack wins. And love overcomes all hurts, the "bad guy" gets decked and even Indian and Soul Food learn to live together in harmony. All in one neat little 90-minute package. Yeah, riiiight. Republican Vice-Presidential running mate (and now occasional media gadfly) Sarah Palin inspired some far less insipid and testosterone-raising films than this - they just won't be filed under "family entertainment."

Indie producer brings "Gangsta Comedy" to life: Blind Shotta

When one door (or many) closes, especially if you're a Jamaican, you open a few more.

In the case of  Diavallan Fearon, who had built a career in music against the odds (his music enterprise is aptly named Builders Music), the doors to radio airplay were repeatedly being shut on him and his ever-expanding stable of artistes. Some of them, like the DJ Predator, had already achieved some level of notoriety in the dancehalls and even on radio, but it proved to be of little effect.

Unable to continue to find space for his productions on tightly controlled local radio, Fearon, who had long harboured ambitions toward a career in film, started taking matters into his own hands, and created his own vehicle. Thus, we have "Blind Shottas" which he unofficially bills as a "gangsta comedy".

" I was inspired by some serious events" he recalls. " Living in [the Lady Huggins area of] north-central Kingston's Grants Pen community, I would frequently hear gunshots. On one occasion, I was awakened by a very long barrage of fire, but after the shooting stopped, no one, it seems had been injured or killed. so I said to myself, it must be a blind shotta, and the idea just grew from there."

Even so, a short preview of the film reveals shades of the kung fu/martial arts franchise, The Blind Swordsman (not to be confused with the One-Armed Swordsman) but switched to a contemporary innercity setting. Fearon says he spent a little over 8 months in production and post, about half of that in editing. That process, done at a friend's studio in California, carried some film-worthy drama of its own, including some unwanted domestic conflict (not involving him directly)

He's over that now and is presently in negotiations to have the movie exhibited on the local Jamaican circuit before taking it overseas. "We had a meeting with Palace Amusement recently, and we're seeing if we can have the movie shown to a Jamaican audience, and build from there. We provided employment to a number of persons and we want to play our part in building the entertainment industry, and provide even more opportunity."

On the personal front, he's looking to get married and to continue doing all he can to establish his music/entertainment complex and to keep pushing the boundaries for what can emerge from the innercity. "Ghetto people keep getting fought out by the system, but I'm here trying to represent for them so that everybody can uplift."

The "Hangover"Cure: Crazy, Stupid Love

Given the "reign of raunch" that has mostly characterized the summer comedy landscape, the arrival of a film likecCrazy Stupid Love is cause for some celebration. Not that the "Hangovers" and "Bridesmaids" don't have their respective place, and not that this movie doesn't occasionally "go there." on balance, Crazy Stupid Love is a genre comedy that acts as if the term itself doesn't exist; it just goes about it's business in a lovable and sometimes cheeky manner.

Steve Carell has this type down pat by now - Mr. Ordinary forced by sudden adversity into a journey of self-discovery and a revelation as to the extent of his "extraordinariness." His wife (Julianne Moore) upends their 25-year marriage with a table side demand for a divorce at a Tony restaurant.

Soon, our guy is back into the dating miasma, being guided expertly(?) by his good friend, the resident player (Ryan Gosling), who himself has his hands full emotionally with a budding romance with the local ice queen (Emma Stone). In addition, Carell has to contend with the fact that his relationship with his children has been less than exemplary.

It all makes for a nice little extended sitcom, but untruth ten pacing and performances (Moore, Gosling and Stone especially) give the movie that extra bit of buff and polish to take it above the mundane.

It won't changeyourlife, or your views on love, but it won't leave you with a headache or a case of profanity overload either.

Bad Teacher: Saves it's best for the final period

http://www.80millionmoviesfree.com/

watching this comedy is a bit like seeing the kid that no one expects to pass ace the final exam.Like Bridesmaids before it, and also helmer by a female star, this latest from the Sony stables starts out cursing a blue streak. Added to that, it's tone for the first hour or so is decidedly mean-spirited.

But a remarkable turnaround ensues in the final third, when lead character Liz Halsey (Cameron Diaz)actually gets what she's after: the requisite funds to to secure bob job that she's convinced will land her dream guy, the new sub (Justin Timberlake, in a delicious piece of Hollywood irony that actually works). The scatology continues of course, but from that point onward, it's tempered with a wry compassion and a weird sort of self-realization and yes, there's even romance - just don't expect too much mush.

Expect to laugh a lot, but the funnies don't really come from the leads: they come more often than not from the support cast - from Diaz' rival in the classroom and for Justin's affections; from her dowdy but genuine colleague; from the kids themselves, one of whom invites his teacher over for Christmas - with disastrously comic results.

Bad Teacher is a movie with kids - not for them. It may irritate you somewhat in the process, but it comes through in the end.

Doesn't Fly, But Swims Along Nicely: Mr. Popper's Penguins Movie Trailer Official (HD)

It must be tough being Jim Carrey. His last three major releases collectively and individually underwhelmed, and now he has to share billing with a bunch of flightless birds.

In fact, its not as horrible a gig as it might seem and in fact, given his early screen incarnation as "Ace Ventura Pet Detective" it's actually right up his comedic alley.

Tom Popper Jr. sells maaad real estate, the kind that ends up on HGTV and Bloomberg magazine. He's handsomely rewarded for his feats, but its cost him his marriage and essentially his happiness, but he charges on. Two announcements set this engagingly goofy family comedy in motion; first, his superiors at the Manhattan firm want him to close the "mother" of all deals - acquire the city's legendary Tavern on the Green (which in actual fact ceased restaurant operations in 2009, becoming a public visitors center and gift shop run by the New York City Department of Parks and Recreation), and then, his dad, a peripatetic explorer who kept in touch with his son via ham radio has died and has left him an unspecified inheritance.

Unspecified, that is, until two large wooden crates arrive at the door of his swank apartment. Freed from their specialty shipping containers, the penguins (one at first, the others arrive in short order) quickly run amok in his pet-prohibited complex, disrupting his well-laid plans for partnership. There is of course, an unforeseen upside to his newest acquisitions: the penguins are a hit with his own son and daughter( Dylan Marshall and Madeline Clark respectively) and this in turn turns a critical lever to a potential reconciliation with his ex (Carla Gugino), even as he tries, with the help of his trusty assistant (Brit Ophelia Lovibond) to woo the taciturn owner of the Tavern (played like a pro by Angela Lansbury).

The action shifts from Popper's high-rise to the Guggenheim Museum, Central Park, the City Zoo (and the Tavern, of course) in quicksilver fashion, director ("Mean Girls", "Freaky Friday") making good use of his star's madcap tendencies even as he smartly reins in the excess. The overall results provide both laughs and sweetness without either element going overboard or coming off forced. And what can we say of the birds? They're more than ready for their close-ups.

So, is "Mr Popper's Penguins" the family movie that parents and kids and enjoy in equal measure without compromise? In the words of Tom Popper, "Yabsolutely!"
  

Penis Galore: The Hangover : Part 2 - Official Trailer [HD]

Producers and execs: "Okay, so we made hundreds of millions with the last one. How do we top it?"

Answer: "Why, with penises, of course!"

One can almost hear the conversation unfolding in th Warner Bros. "Situation Room". Faced with honing the formula without making it unrecognizeable, director Todd Phillips and writers Craig Mazin and Scott Armstrong set out to exploit th still considerable shock power of the male organ. This time, when the guys wake up with temporary amnesia after a night of pre-nuptial debauchery, they find themselves in a Bangkok dive; instead of tiger, they're greeted by a monkey and, shortly thereafter, by the partially obscured penis of "international criminal" Mr Chow (Ken Jeong) with whom they hada drug-related run-in in the first movie.

Needless to say, the situation snowballs rapidly from there: Stu, the dentist, and the groom in this instance, has a tattoo on his face; Alan, the zany-raunchy idiot-savant of the first movie now has a buzz cut in contrast to his  bushy sideburns and beard, and Phil.....well, more on him later.

The challenge this time around is to find Stu's future brother-in-law, Teddy (Mason Lee, the son of "Brokeback Mountain" director Ang Lee), himself the favoured son of the Thai immigrant family that Stu is set to join.

the quest for Teddy leads through Bangkok's seamy nightlife, where one the city's notorious "lady-boys" (let's call them "intersexuals" - female faces, breasts and  - you guessed it - ding-a-lings) confesses to  a night of wild abandon with Stu with the following classic zinger: "I shoot load in you, you shoot load on floor." Bradley Cooper, as Phil, takes on the role of straight man with even more assurance than he did two years earlier and Zach Galifianakis smartly tweaks his "stupid is smart" schtick to suit the needs of the new locale.

Armed with that knowledge they journey from Bhuddist monastery to city centre high-rise to riverside cafe until the mission is accomplished. But whilst the film's pace is zippy, and the scenes in which Mr Chow - inevitably - reappears are almost worth the ticket price, a good portion of the thrill is understandably gone from this sequel. That air of "will they or won't they make it?" has essentially been replaced with "what other crap will they get into now?" The waste of Paul Giamatti, as an undercover Interpol agent, is almost unforgivable.

Still, if you're a big  fan, this extension of Hollywood's newest franchise offers just enough high-speed chase, ridiculous culture clash and super-raunch to meet your expectations. The rest will be scratching their heads every so often and wondering, in the words of the cast....."What tha --!"