For a little Canadian indie flick, "Young People Fucking" actually creating something of a stir for a brief time earlier this year. ThinkFilm, the distributor, couldn't get it out in theaters because of the title (which admittedly, is shameless if pretty damn funny as well), and Roger Ebert, scourge of the oppression of any movie, published a review in his blog and took the time to get it up on IMDB as well. The question is, though, is there anything more here than just shock value? I'd say so.
The film is essentially a meditation on the universally known six stages of sex (prelude, foreplay, sex, interlude, orgasm, afterglow) through the perspectives of several different relationships, existing as types of relationships. There are the exes, Mia (Sonja Bennett) and Eric (Josh Cooke) who have dinner after some time apart and end up sleeping together; the best friends Matt (Aaron Abrams) and Kris (Carly Pope, of the defunct WB show "Popular"), who try and have sex just to spare each other the difficulty of finding somebody else; the couple Andrew (Josh Dean) and Abby (Krisin Booth) who try and spice up their sex lives while celebrating Andrew's birthday; the first date between Jamie (Diora Baird) and Ken (Callum Blue) and the pair of roommates, Gord (Ennis Esmer) and Dave (Peter Oldring), who end up involved with Gord's girlfriend Inez (Natalie Lisinska) in a threesome.
The film cuts back between one night in the lives of these five couples, and because this is a no-budget indie, it lives and dies by the performances. For the most part, the film lives on them, because all the actors involved delve fearlessly into sometimes humiliating, often hilarious situations that are all tangible enough to work. There are no exaggerated "American Pie" sexual pratfalls here, and what makes the film so cringingly funny is the fact that most of what happens onscreen is discussed, and often even suggested, in your average issue of "Cosmopolitan" or "Mens' Health."
As far as the stories go, the one between the best friends works the best, mostly because it's the sweetest out of them. Matt and Kris attempt to get drunk and fumble around, but trying to treat each other like any other one-night stand fails miserably, because they actually care about each other, and begin to realize this during. The funniest story, if the most out-there, is of the married couple. After discussing how they both feel boring and unsatisfied, Abby pulls out a strap-on, and the end result (no pun intended) is uncomfortably funny, just because it delivers what would probably be the most honest result of such an experiment.
The only time the film falls flat is in the plotline with the threesome. Gord is borderline creepy in wanting to watch his roommate have sex with his girlfriend, and becomes fully creepy when he begins making demands of them both. The scene is played for laughs, but Gord isn't likable enough for it to work. You can only feel sympathy for Dave, who looks horrifically uncomfortable the entire time. The only thing that redeems this plotline is Inez's very last line; it's fair, and honest, and will make any guy watching this bite his tongue just a bit.
For a no-budget indie comedy, the film works on all fronts. It's nothing revolutionary, and about twenty minutes in you can see why it couldn't find theatrical distribution (I'm no prude, but the film is borderline pornographic.) If I could make a recommendation, rent the film "Shortbus." Released in 2005, it was also met with controversy for its graphic sexual content (though in that film, the issue was with all the sex in the film being real) and handles similar themes of sexual need in a much gutsier, funnier and better written manner.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Review: RockNRolla
What a deeply, deeply disappointing film this was. I should have known, really; I read that "RockNRolla" was shown as the surprise film at the Chicago Film Festival this year, and a lot of people left. Despite this, and the negative buzz, not to mention the constantly shifting release date, I wanted to believe in this movie. I'm a huge fan of Guy Ritchie's early work, particularly "Snatch," which yielded what might be Brad Pitt's best performance. However, Madonna and "Swept Away" happened, and Ritchie tailed off from there. Case in point: last year's "Revolver," which was Ritchie's attempt at a "Fight Club"-esque mindfuck that fell on its face.
"RockNRolla" was supposed to be Ritchie's return to form, to the delirious, hilarious crime adventures he built a career on. Instead, it shambles along at the tempo of a bad episode of "Law & Order." The story centers on...well, come to think of it, I'm not quite sure who it's centered around. The titular "rock n' rolla" is Johnny Quid (Toby Kebbell), a snotty Pete Doherty doppelganger (in personality, at least) who's gone AWOL, presumed dead. However, nobody in the crime underworld believes that Quid is actually dead, least of all his adoptive father Lenny Cole (Tom Wilkinson, who looks like he's having a ball), the biggest and most successful crook in London.
Cole is having trouble with the new Russians in town, and things take a turn for the worse when Cole loses the lucky painting of the Russian boss. He enlists One Two (Gerard Butler) and Mumbles (Idris Elba) to get the painting back, but they end up involved with Stella (Thandie Newton), a femme fatale who seems to be playing every possible side. There are about a million more characters and plots in play, and describing what happens is just about impossible, not only because I don't take notes during movies but because it seems like even Ritchie didn't quite understand the film he was directing.
This could all be forgivable if Ritchie had played this like his old films; "Snatch" has a plot every bit as labyrinthe, but it worked because it was funny and had a kinetic energy ripping through every frame that left the audience breathless and not caring about plotting. Here, Ritchie tries to make a crime film like every other filmmaker, and loses what made his early work so innovative and great. The film spends nearly the first hour of its 110-minute running time setting up all the pieces, and it takes so long to get to the action that by the time you get there, any involvement in the plot has long gone out the window.
Even when the action does show up, it lacks the spark of Ritchie's earlier films. For that matter, it lacks the spark of most recent action films. The film's standout scene is a foot chase between One Two and a seemingly unkillable assassin, which might be the most realistic chase ever put on film; by the end, both men are limping after each other, unable to run out of exhaustion. Kebbell also stands out as a philosophy-spewing junkie with a penchant for violence, who always seems to be one step ahead of the fray. His character belongs in a better film than this.
"RockNRolla" was supposed to be Ritchie's return to form, to the delirious, hilarious crime adventures he built a career on. Instead, it shambles along at the tempo of a bad episode of "Law & Order." The story centers on...well, come to think of it, I'm not quite sure who it's centered around. The titular "rock n' rolla" is Johnny Quid (Toby Kebbell), a snotty Pete Doherty doppelganger (in personality, at least) who's gone AWOL, presumed dead. However, nobody in the crime underworld believes that Quid is actually dead, least of all his adoptive father Lenny Cole (Tom Wilkinson, who looks like he's having a ball), the biggest and most successful crook in London.
Cole is having trouble with the new Russians in town, and things take a turn for the worse when Cole loses the lucky painting of the Russian boss. He enlists One Two (Gerard Butler) and Mumbles (Idris Elba) to get the painting back, but they end up involved with Stella (Thandie Newton), a femme fatale who seems to be playing every possible side. There are about a million more characters and plots in play, and describing what happens is just about impossible, not only because I don't take notes during movies but because it seems like even Ritchie didn't quite understand the film he was directing.
This could all be forgivable if Ritchie had played this like his old films; "Snatch" has a plot every bit as labyrinthe, but it worked because it was funny and had a kinetic energy ripping through every frame that left the audience breathless and not caring about plotting. Here, Ritchie tries to make a crime film like every other filmmaker, and loses what made his early work so innovative and great. The film spends nearly the first hour of its 110-minute running time setting up all the pieces, and it takes so long to get to the action that by the time you get there, any involvement in the plot has long gone out the window.
Even when the action does show up, it lacks the spark of Ritchie's earlier films. For that matter, it lacks the spark of most recent action films. The film's standout scene is a foot chase between One Two and a seemingly unkillable assassin, which might be the most realistic chase ever put on film; by the end, both men are limping after each other, unable to run out of exhaustion. Kebbell also stands out as a philosophy-spewing junkie with a penchant for violence, who always seems to be one step ahead of the fray. His character belongs in a better film than this.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson
In 2005, with a single self inflicted gun shot wound, America lost one of its most vocal critics and rugged outlaws of this and the last Century, at the age of 68. Born in 1937, he was Hunter S. Thompson. I became enamored with the man after seeing Johnny Depp's performance as Thompson in the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. So much so, that I read the book of the same name and became further intrigued.
His prose has a poetic guilding to it that is most unmistakable and seems to take the reader to the far edge of reality and then over and beyond. This remarkable and troubled man lived through some of the most profoundly influential events in American history including the death of Dr. King, death of RFK, the Watergate Scandal, and even 9/11.
Thompson was the inventor of a journalistic style called Gonzo. Gonzo is also the title of the documentary I have just seen which chronicles the life and times of this extreme individual.
This movie is fittingly narrated by Johnny Depp using the words of Hunter S. Thompson himself and features friends and enemies alike recalling the life and wonder of the Rolling Stone journalist/phenomenon.
Hunter was in constant search of something called the American Dream. His political views were in my opinion very extreme, but there was a lot of heart in the words of his philosophy. This man was no stranger to Free Speech. He has my undying respect for being a truly unique individual, whose only real failing was that he could not respect the limits of his own mortality.
Hunter once said that the only people who know the edge are the ones who have gone over it. I think he was right.
Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson is or will become a classic among documentary films.
His prose has a poetic guilding to it that is most unmistakable and seems to take the reader to the far edge of reality and then over and beyond. This remarkable and troubled man lived through some of the most profoundly influential events in American history including the death of Dr. King, death of RFK, the Watergate Scandal, and even 9/11.
Thompson was the inventor of a journalistic style called Gonzo. Gonzo is also the title of the documentary I have just seen which chronicles the life and times of this extreme individual.
This movie is fittingly narrated by Johnny Depp using the words of Hunter S. Thompson himself and features friends and enemies alike recalling the life and wonder of the Rolling Stone journalist/phenomenon.
Hunter was in constant search of something called the American Dream. His political views were in my opinion very extreme, but there was a lot of heart in the words of his philosophy. This man was no stranger to Free Speech. He has my undying respect for being a truly unique individual, whose only real failing was that he could not respect the limits of his own mortality.
Hunter once said that the only people who know the edge are the ones who have gone over it. I think he was right.
Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson is or will become a classic among documentary films.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Review: JCVD
First of all, if anybody out there is still reading, apologies for the month-plus disappearing act. College has consumed my soul in such a way that I haven't even been able to write a movie review, which is indeed a sad day. However, I'm back, and with a lot to rant and ramble about.
First off, we have the film "JCVD," which is short for none other than Jean Claude Van Damme, your favorite ass-whupper from Brussels and mine. Now, some people can remember the time during the 1990s when Van Damme was a worldwide action star, and even more probably remember him as the man who introduced John Woo to Hollywood (and by extension, a lot of doves in action movies.) Sadly, though, most know him as the man he is today; a former drug addict who does hilariously bad straight-to-DVD action flicks that, if lucky, are aired on the Sci-Fi channel.
With "JCVD," Van Damme has done something incredibly ballsy, something that merits a great deal of respect. He takes his own mythology and pisses all over it. Most actors are too afraid of taking that step and being able to laugh at their own career, for fear that it will render them a joke, and they fail to realize that they more or less are already. In confronting everything said about him head-on, Van Damme snaps back at all the naysayers.
The film starts off with one of those Van Damme action sequences, with a ton of gunplay, karate and men being killed by JCVD's bare hands. However, the action cuts away to reveal a set, where Van Damme is being mocked by the director for taking his mediocre, cash-in movie too seriously. He plays himself in the film, and not in the winking "Julia Roberts playing Julia Roberts" way of the "Ocean's" series. Van Damme is playing himself with all his flaws in tow. He goes to the court hearing for custody of his daughter, and after watching the opposing attorney rattle off a list of all the violence in his movies, his daughter says that she wants to live with her mother, because kids at school make fun of her dad's movies. His agent tells him that he lost out on a STD role to Steven Seagal, because the latter promised to cut off his ponytail for the first time.
After this, and out of money, Van Damme returns to Brussels to try and start again. While simply trying to drop off a letter at the post office, he ends up being roped into a hostage crisis. A police officer sees him in the window and becomes convinced that Van Damme is robbing the bank. He's so far in debt that the police don't even question whether there is probable cause for the stickup. Inside, Van Damme uses his fame to stay alive, but also begins to fear his own death.
If this sounds heavier than a Van Damme movie should be, that's because this is not the kind of movie one would expect. There's actually next to no action in the film, and the toughest Van Damme looks is during the aforementioned scene in the beginning. Van Damme plays himself as a man broken down, who almost wants to relinquish his fame and start his life over, but can't escape the hole he's dug for himself. There is a scene, beautifully handled, in which he levitates above the onscreen action, looks into the camera and directly addresses the audience. For about ten minutes, he tells his side of his story for what seems like the first time, and apologizes for the wrongs he has caused. It's hard to tell at first whether this is part of the movie, but then you realize that it is not; he speaks of his past wives, his drug use and all his other failures with a candor that few other actors would have the courage to exhibit.
Strangely enough, I can see "JCVD" possibly acting as a new beginning for the actor, if he so chooses; this film crushes the Van Damme mythos so thoroughly that if he truly wishes to start again, he may have more films of a higher quality in him after all.
First off, we have the film "JCVD," which is short for none other than Jean Claude Van Damme, your favorite ass-whupper from Brussels and mine. Now, some people can remember the time during the 1990s when Van Damme was a worldwide action star, and even more probably remember him as the man who introduced John Woo to Hollywood (and by extension, a lot of doves in action movies.) Sadly, though, most know him as the man he is today; a former drug addict who does hilariously bad straight-to-DVD action flicks that, if lucky, are aired on the Sci-Fi channel.
With "JCVD," Van Damme has done something incredibly ballsy, something that merits a great deal of respect. He takes his own mythology and pisses all over it. Most actors are too afraid of taking that step and being able to laugh at their own career, for fear that it will render them a joke, and they fail to realize that they more or less are already. In confronting everything said about him head-on, Van Damme snaps back at all the naysayers.
The film starts off with one of those Van Damme action sequences, with a ton of gunplay, karate and men being killed by JCVD's bare hands. However, the action cuts away to reveal a set, where Van Damme is being mocked by the director for taking his mediocre, cash-in movie too seriously. He plays himself in the film, and not in the winking "Julia Roberts playing Julia Roberts" way of the "Ocean's" series. Van Damme is playing himself with all his flaws in tow. He goes to the court hearing for custody of his daughter, and after watching the opposing attorney rattle off a list of all the violence in his movies, his daughter says that she wants to live with her mother, because kids at school make fun of her dad's movies. His agent tells him that he lost out on a STD role to Steven Seagal, because the latter promised to cut off his ponytail for the first time.
After this, and out of money, Van Damme returns to Brussels to try and start again. While simply trying to drop off a letter at the post office, he ends up being roped into a hostage crisis. A police officer sees him in the window and becomes convinced that Van Damme is robbing the bank. He's so far in debt that the police don't even question whether there is probable cause for the stickup. Inside, Van Damme uses his fame to stay alive, but also begins to fear his own death.
If this sounds heavier than a Van Damme movie should be, that's because this is not the kind of movie one would expect. There's actually next to no action in the film, and the toughest Van Damme looks is during the aforementioned scene in the beginning. Van Damme plays himself as a man broken down, who almost wants to relinquish his fame and start his life over, but can't escape the hole he's dug for himself. There is a scene, beautifully handled, in which he levitates above the onscreen action, looks into the camera and directly addresses the audience. For about ten minutes, he tells his side of his story for what seems like the first time, and apologizes for the wrongs he has caused. It's hard to tell at first whether this is part of the movie, but then you realize that it is not; he speaks of his past wives, his drug use and all his other failures with a candor that few other actors would have the courage to exhibit.
Strangely enough, I can see "JCVD" possibly acting as a new beginning for the actor, if he so chooses; this film crushes the Van Damme mythos so thoroughly that if he truly wishes to start again, he may have more films of a higher quality in him after all.
Monday, November 10, 2008
WTF?!: Oldboy remake
I remember my friend badgering me to watch this foreign film called Oldboy every time I spoke to him. Finally last year I broke down and Netflixed it. Everything my friend said about this film was completely and utterly true. It was a a blood-bath, an emotional rollercoaster, a tear jeaker, and any other cliche idiom film critics say about great movies.
So why the hell would you remake it?
Following the Asian remake trend, Stephen Spielberg and Will Smith are planning to make an American version of Park Chanwook's Oldboy. Why? Profit? I have no idea. The raw and strange subject matter of the film doesn't really seem like either person's cup of tea. Maybe if Martin Sorsese said he was going to remake this, I would be more exicted. But Spielberg is known for his more comtemplative movies, not so much for beat-em-up action films. And adding Will Smith to the mix...ok, just because you did I am Legend (a total watered-down version of the book) does not mean you can take on an incestual/gorey/crazy Asian film. It's like putting Simon and Garfunkle in charge of a bio-pic about The Ramones. It just doesn't mix well.
WTF?!
Sunday, October 26, 2008
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