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Movie Review: GOING THE DISTANCE

I wasn’t sure about writing this review because…well, does anyone care? Anybody plan to see it this weekend? OK, in case there’s one die-hard Drew Barrymore fan out there, here goes.

Barrymore’s Erin and Justin Long’s Garrett meet over a videogame, which should clue you in on their general maturity level, in a New York bar. He, an A&R guy at a music label, lives in the city and she, an aspiring journalist, is finishing an internship at the fictional New York Sentinel newspaper. They hit it off instantly and agree to embark on a casual fling for Erin’s remaining six weeks in NYC. To no one’s surprise but theirs, they realize they want to continue their relationship even after she goes home to San Francisco. So they Skype, attempt phone sex, and inundate each other with cutesy texts to try to keep the passion burning. It eventually becomes clear the long distance arrangement isn’t enough and one of them needs to sacrifice everything and move to make the relationship work.

The main problem with this movie is Long. He’s a competent enough actor in supporting roles and the Mac commercials but lacks the charisma to be a romantic leading man. It doesn’t help that his character looks and acts like a college student, living with a roommate (Charlie Day) who doesn’t close the bathroom while on the pot. When Erin is considering giving up a dream job to move to New York and be with Garrett, I thought, “Really? For him? Do you know hard it is to get a job in this economy?” Now, if Garrett had been played by, say, Hugh Jackman, I would’ve been shouting, “GO, girl! Don’t worry—it’ll all work out!” I would have encouraged her to move to Australia and adopt an aborigine wardrobe if need be.

The movie also suffers from a split personality. It wants to be both a crude Apatowish comedy and a rom-com but director Nanette Burstein, a documentarian helming her first fictional feature, doesn’t succeed at meshing the two styles. The romantic sparks barely flicker—Long and Barrymore come across more like platonic friends despite their off-screen history—and the bawdy humor seems forced. At one point, a drunk Erin yells at a guy, “Suck my dick!” It’s not funny the first time; she hollers it again. Still not funny. It’s as if Barrymore was trying really hard to show she can be as raw as any guy. I’d bet she can be (aren’t the sweetest-looking girls usually the dirtiest) but her attempt to prove it here falls flat.

Nerd verdict: Don’t bother Going to see Distance

Photo: Jessica Miglio

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Book Review & Giveaway: THE GLAMOUR OF GRAMMAR

How much of a nerd am I? I spent last Saturday night at home reading a book on grammar and considered it a good time. That’s because Roy Peter Clark makes it fun in The Glamour of Grammar, a book of writing guidelines. As introduction, Clark says “this book invites you to embrace grammar in a special way, not as a set of rules but as a box of tools…It doesn’t shout at you, ‘No, no, no,’ but gives you a little push and says, ‘Go, go, go.'”

And that it does. It helps that I’ve always loved grammar and language in general. I don’t like the term “grammar snob” because I don’t think I’m better than anyone. I simply want to put my best foot forward when speaking and writing and avoid sounding like an idiot. If my blog were full of mistakes, I imagine you wouldn’t be reading this.

So yes, I have an interest in this book’s subject matter but wouldn’t have necessarily enjoyed it if it weren’t for Clark’s breezy, witty, friendly voice. There’s no stuffy preachy tone here. Unlike William Strunk and E.B. White’s The Elements of Style, which has great advice but is bare bones in delivery, Clark offers anecdotes along with his tips on how to write more effectively. Even if you never dangle modifiers, split your infinitives or confuse “lie” and “lay,” this book can help you take a more conscious approach to language. Haven’t we all said or written something then later claimed, “That’s not what I meant!”?

I like how Clark encourages us to break rules whenever necessary to avoid “hypergrammar,” syntax that’s correct but calls too much attention to itself, e.g. “for whom are you looking?” instead of the more common “who are you looking for?” I heartily agree when he writes:

As writers, we should never be satisfied with the words we inherit, the ones that already appear in our dictionaries. Learning to use them correctly is the license we need to bend them, stretch them, and blend them with others, as context, meaning, and audience allow.

If you’re thinking, “OK, you’ve convinced me I need a copy of this book even though I’m already brilliant,” you’re in luck. Hachette Book Group is allowing me to give away two copies. To enter:

be a subscriber or Twitter follower (tell me which; new subscribers/followers get 1 entry and current ones get 2)
leave a comment about what grammatical issues trip you up the most
live in U.S. or Canada, no P.O. Box, per HBG’s request

Giveaway ends Tuesday, September 7, 5 p.m. PST. Winners will be chosen via Random.org and only announced here and on Twitter. I will not contact you personally so please check back to see if you win. Winners have 48 hours to claim the prize before alternate names are chosen.

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It’s a Savage World: Don Winslow’s SAVAGES & Carl Hiaasen’s STAR ISLAND

We’ve had gorgeous weather here in SoCal so you’d think I’d be outside doing outdoorsy stuff, right? Wrong. OK, maybe I spent a couple days outside. Rest of the time, I’ve been a good little nerd, catching up on reading while sitting at my window seat, basking in some secondhand rays. Here’s a couple I finished:

Savages by Don Winslow

Ben, a “Baddhist” (bad Buddhist), and Chon, a vet of two tours in our current war, have gotten rich doing what they love: get high. Chon brought home premium seeds from “Stanland” (Afghanistan) which Ben cultivated into potent blends sold by happy dealers for whom the benevolent Ben even provides health care. Life is good until the Baja Cartel decides to muscle in on their business and kidnaps O, their mutual gal pal, to make sure the boys obey. Big mistake, because Ben and Chon, who suffers from PTLOSD (Post-Traumatic Lack of Stress Disorder), show they can be David to the Goliathan cartel, igniting an explosive series of events that leave more than a few people dead.

If you’re thinking “Drug dealers? No, thanks,” consider this: Winslow is expert at making you care for people you probably wouldn’t want to know in real life. A theme that pops up in many of his books is brotherhood, the unbreakable bond between friends. Ben, O (short for Ophelia), and Chon might do questionable things but what you do unto one, you do unto all. I like books that challenge my worldview and make me a little less judgmental, if only towards fictional characters and situations.

Winslow has a distinctive rhythmic style I find lean, mean, compelling. Here’s how he tells about a lesson Chon (Little Johnny) learned when he was three:

Big John lifted Little Johnny up to the living room fireplace mantel, held his arms out, and told him to jump. “I’ll catch you.”

Delighted, smiling, the little boy launched himself off the mantel, at which point Big John lowered his arms, did an ole, and Little Johnny crashed face-first on the floor. Dazed, hurt, bleeding from the mouth where a front tooth had gone into his lip, Chon learned the lesson his father had intended about trust:

Don’t.

Ever.

Anyone.

Did I mention the book is also funny? It’s dark humor, sure, but there’s levity among the violence. And the dialogue is so hip, you feel a little more gangsta after reading.

It’s no surprise Oliver Stone snapped up the movie rights since the action is cinematic and some of the scenes are actually written in script format. Stone had better not eff it up or I’ll get all Chonny on his ass.

Nerd verdict: Fierce Savages

(For more on Winslow, including coverage of a recent SoCal appearance, check out my friend le0pard13’s three-part article here.)

Buy Savages from Amazon| B&N| Powell’s| IndieBound

Star Island by Carl Hiaasen

Cherry Pye is a spoiled pop star whose penchant for partying and drugs forces her management team, which includes her mother, to hire a double to make the public think Cherry is out and about whenever she’s actually unconscious or getting her stomach pumped at a hospital. A tenacious paparazzo, Bang Abbott, accidentally kidnaps Ann the stand-in then tries to negotiate her release in exchange for getting an exclusive one-on-one photo session with Cherry. When Cherry’s mom doesn’t call the cops, fearing her stunt-double scheme would be exposed, Ann calls a homeless man named Skink to come rescue her. A recurring character in Hiaasen’s books, Skink is a former Florida governor now determined to keep greedy developers from ruining the “cherished wild places of his childhood.” He’d also previously held Ann hostage for a short time but long enough to become smitten with her. He sets off to rescue Ann in Miami, Cherry continues her destructive ways, the hapless Bang thinks he’s getting what he wants but in the end, everyone gets what they pretty much deserve.

From that synopsis alone, you can probably tell this is an over-the-top story with wacky characters. Besides the aforementioned ones, there’s a bodyguard named Chemo with a weed whacker for a hand, a manager with a taste for jailbait, and chain-smoking twin publicists who have had so much plastic surgery their faces don’t move. None of these people have ethics or any other redeeming qualities; this book could have also been called Savages. But unlike Winslow’s characters, there’s no one here to really root for. Ann is probably the most relatable but considering the cast of crazies, she’s in that position by default. She seems decent enough but too passive and ambivalent to be the hero.

Hiassen is a gifted writer capable of combining wicked satire and topical issues. His previous novels have often provoked thought while making me laugh out loud. This time the targets of his parody—fame whores, their grubby hangers-on, greedy lying bastards, unethical politicians—have become so ridiculous in real life, the author can’t outdo them in outrageousness. As I read about Cherry’s sordid adventures involving pills, booze and impulsive tattoos, it felt like reading a tabloid about all of Paris/Lindsay/Britney’s bad behavior. It’s not funny or even satire when it’s too close to reality. I found Cherry’s life and much of the book sad, which was probably not Hiaasen’s intention.

Nerd verdict: Star lacks power

Buy Star Island from Amazon| B&N| Powell’s| IndieBound

What are you reading this weekend? Anything you recommend?

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Movie Review: FLIPPED

You know how I knew I really liked this movie? My eyes were often wet and I didn’t want it to end. Wished I could stay inside its golden glow for a while longer to see the lead characters grow up, making sure they turn out okay.

Young Bryce (Ryan Ketzner) and Young Juli (Morgan Lily)

Based on the book by Wendelin Van Draanen (how cool is that name?), Flipped (opening August 6) tells the story of two kids growing up on the same street who develop feelings for each other, but different kinds at different times. Juli Baker (Madeline Carroll) decides she has a crush on Bryce Loski (Callan McAuliffe) from the moment she sees his family move into the neighborhood. He thinks the tomboyish, chicken-raising Juli is strange and does all he can to discourage her swooning. Their relationship is also hampered by Bryce’s uptight dad’s (Anthony Edwards) condescending attitude towards Juli’s blue-collar family. Things change when Bryce’s grandfather (John Mahoney) comes to live with the Loskis and takes a shine to Juli. Grandpa makes Bryce see Juli in a different light and eventually Bryce can’t stop thinking about her. His Eureka moment may come too late, though, because after some offensive behavior on his part, Juli is beginning to think he’s no longer worth her devotion.

If you’ve ever experienced the painful sweetness of a childhood crush, you’ll love this movie. I know all about unrequited feelings and being considered the weird girl so relating to Juli was easy. I also found her, as played by the winning Carroll (Kevin Costner’s daughter in Swing Vote), the coolest kid in town, with a maturity way beyond her peers’. I have no doubt the actress will transition well into grown-up roles. The Aussie McAuliffe, with his blond curls and angel face, makes an appropriate puppy love object. His role is less demanding than Carroll’s but he nails the American accent and his screen presence hints at future heartthrob status.

The supporting roles are filled by an Eighties All-Star cast, including my own ’80s crush, Aidan Quinn, as Juli’s dad; Penelope Ann Miller as her mom; Rebecca De Mornay as Bryce’s mother and the aforementioned Edwards as his dad. Perhaps this is because director Rob Reiner’s greatest hits happened two decades ago and he’s indulging in nostalgia. I read in this L.A. Times interview that even though Van Draanen’s book is contemporary, Reiner set the movie in the ’50s to keep the central relationship pure, devoid of Facebook and texting. This was a wise move, allowing him to enhance the story’s emotional resonance with real feelings instead of emoticons. In a time when even kids’ movies are 3D and special effects laden, this simple love story reminds us what it’s like to be truly innocent.

Nerd verdict: Heartfelt Flipped

Photos: Warner Bros.

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Movie Review: DINNER FOR SCHMUCKS

With the title Dinner for Schmucks and Paul Rudd and Steve Carell as leads, you might think the movie (opening July 30) would be a laugh riot. Turns out, I barely cracked a smile.

Rudd plays Tim, an executive after a big promotion who must first pass muster by bringing the biggest idiot to a monthly dinner hosted by his boss (Bruce Greenwood). Though he’s indecisive about attending the event after his girlfriend disapproves, Tim finds the perfect candidate when he hits Barry (Carell) with his car. Barry builds mice dioramas, is socially inept and seems to be Tim’s perfect ticket to that promotion. Eventually, of course, Tim discovers who the real schmucks are.

The most amusing thing about the movie, based on the French film Le Diner de Cons, is the opening credits, when we see Barry creating his delightful dioramas with meticulously dressed mice set in charming scenery. Then it’s all downhill from there, a head-scratching turn of events considering the cast, which also includes Lucy Punch and Flight of the Conchords‘ Jemaine Clement and Kristen Schaal, all capable of being very funny. They’re hampered by a script by David Guion and Michael Handelman that seems to think outrageousness equals hilarity, which it doesn’t, at least not here. Clement used to make me laugh out loud on Conchords because the humor (which he wrote with Bret McKenzie) was rooted in reality. Here, he’s forced to wear crazy outfits and do weird things just for shock value, resulting in scenes that are simply ridiculous.

I was also dismayed by director Jay Roach having Rudd in his movie and not allowing him to be funny, not even once. Rudd plays the straight man and mostly has to act exasperated at everyone’s antics. The squandered opportunity for inspired riffing with his co-star is frustrating. Carell, who is just as good a dramatic actor as a comedic one, makes Barry sympathetic but we’ve seen this performance before. Barry’s innocence is reminiscent of Andy’s in The 40-Year-Old Virgin and his inappropriate comments are similar to what comes out of Michael Scott’s mouth every week on The Office. Barry does provide some heart but I wish the movie had more of a funny bone.

Nerd verdict: Dinner‘s an empty dish

Photos: Merie Weismiller Wallace

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INCEPTION’s Inception: Review and Conversation with Christopher Nolan & Creative Team

From L.: Rao, Hardy, Gordon-Levitt, DiCaprio, Page, Watanabe

Watching Christopher Nolan’s Inception (opening July 16), I thought of my college Japanese instructor during my second year of studying the language, the hardest I’ve ever learned. The teacher had just transferred from Yale and spoke to us in Japanese as if we were natives, refusing to stop and explain things even if most of us just gaped at him, hopelessly lost. Finally, a frustrated classmate whined, “C’mon, give us a break. We’re not Yale.” (For the record, we were at the University of Virginia, a perfectly good school, thanks very much.) Our teacher stopped and said, in perfect English, “I will not come down to your level. I want you to come up to mine.”

With his latest movie, Nolan seems to be saying the same thing to audiences. Inception is a complex maze, one that will require lots of brain power and concentration to understand. Even though I didn’t get all of it (I’ll need to re-watch it on DVD with subtitles), I enjoyed trying to grasp the movie’s concepts and was grateful Nolan didn’t make it easy for us.

I’ll do only a vague plot summary since the less you know about it, the better. But there will be mild spoilers in the Q & A section below where I recap some behind-the-scenes tidbits Nolan and his creative team shared when they showed up after the screening to discuss their process. You might want to come back and read that after you see the movie to learn how they pulled off some of the eye teasers.

Hardy

Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) is an expert extractor, someone who enters people’s dreams to steal their most valuable secrets. He has a team of assistants consisting of characters played by Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Dileep Rao and the charismatic Tom Hardy, each of whom has a special skill. Cobb also has the talent of inception, the power to plant an idea in someone’s mind and make the dreamer think it’s his own. It’s this ability he must use to finish one last job for a powerful client, Saito (Ken Watanabe), who can help Cobb return to a life from which he has been exiled.

Gordon-Levitt

Because Inception takes place mostly in dreams, it contains some eye-popping imagery. One sequence is reminiscent of 2001: A Space Odyssey and a fight scene involving Gordon-Levitt calls to mind not Batman, but Spider-Man. And lest you think it’s mostly CGI, it isn’t (see Q & A).

DiCaprio, doing solid work in his second movie this year featuring altered reality, heads an impressive cast, though most of the actors are underused. Page doesn’t get to whip out any of her sass as Ariadne, our exposition facilitator; Michael Caine’s part could’ve have been done by any number of actors; and Cillian Murphy, with his unsettling blue eyes, plays it straight when he’s more interesting as characters who are creepy and freaky.

Cotillard

The two standouts are Marion Cotillard as Mal and Hardy as Eames. Cotillard is a divine presence, gorgeous and menacing and vulnerable all at once. The British Hardy, whom I’d never seen before (his credits include RocknRolla and the next Mad Max movie, in which he’ll take over the titular role) has the kind of magnetism that signals future stardom on these shores.

And then there’s Nolan. I’m just going to call him the next Best Original Screenplay Oscar winner right now because I doubt any other script this year will beat Inception in originality. Watching the movie was a little like dreaming for me—experiencing it in the dark, submerged in fantastical imagery, having uneasy sensations but not wanting things to end right away because I wanted to see what happens. When it was over, I wasn’t sure I could explain everything. There are curious plot holes but as with a lot of sci-fi, I can’t argue much about real-world logic. Perhaps to balance out the movie’s more bizarre aspects, Nolan gets quite literal with the names (Mal’s is a big clue and in Greek mythology, Ariadne helps Theseus escape from a labyrinth) and a couple of chess references (because it’s a mind game?). The emotional impact is lightweight but still, I hope Nolan uses his power of inception to plant in the minds of Hollywood studio executives the idea that we need more smart, creative entertainment like this.

Nerd verdict: Open your mind to Inception

Q & A

*Mild Spoilers*

After the screening, Pete Hammond moderated a session with Nolan, his producer/wife Emma Thomas, cinematographer Wally Pfister, composer Hans Zimmer, production designer Guy Hendrix Dyas and casting director John Papsidera. Except for Dyas, everyone had previously worked with Nolan before this movie, most going all the way back to Memento.

I couldn’t transcribe everything but here are some highlights:

Nolan had wanted to do something about dreams since he was a kid but it wasn’t until 10 years ago that he zeroed in on the idea of doing a heist film that takes place within dreams. Despite his clout after the success of the Batman reboot, he finished the entire script before pitching it to Warner Bros. because he wanted them to see his whole concept.
Heist films are usually methodical but Nolan decided to make this an emotional love story because that’s what keeps him passionate about what he does.
The biggest challenge for producer Thomas was shooting in six countries, including Morocco, France and England. When she read the first 80 pages of Nolan’s script many years ago, she had no idea how it could be brought to the screen. By the time the script was completed, she had the Batman movies under her belt and was more equipped to take on a big project like this.
Pfister said Nolan made clear there would be no strange color palettes to indicate when someone’s in a dream. He wanted all scenes to look real so audiences would never be sure where they are. Pfister and Nolan do very little pre-planning when it comes to lighting, keeping it natural and allowing the locations to dictate how they should light them. There was never any scheme to use lighting to delineate between the dream levels.
Dyas spoke about creating duplicates of the same sets—a horizontal version, a vertical one, etc. During the pivotal gravity-free scene with Gordon-Levitt, the hotel corridor was set inside a gimbal then rotated with Gordon-Levitt inside and a camera mounted to one wall. Because the actor was on wires, Nolan had to direct him like a puppeteer.
Papsidera was so adamant about Cotillard playing Mal, he pushed Nolan to travel to the Moroccan desert to meet with her (she was filming another movie). Somehow they missed each other there and ended up meeting in Paris. Coincidentally, an Edith Piaf song plays an important part in the movie but Nolan had written that in the script 10 years ago. He considered changing it after Cotillard came on board but then decided he liked having that connection.
During the sequence when the team is skiing, Pfister had to hire Chris Patterson, an experienced skier, to shoot footage while going downhill. Nolan really wanted the handheld effect to put viewers inside the action but it was something Pfister couldn’t do. Patterson had to capture every shot while skiing and they’re not sure how he did it without slamming into trees.
Nolan looked at different formats to shoot the movie. It was mostly shot in 35mm, some 65mm, up to 360 frames per second. Nolan tested 3D conversion in post-production and got good results but didn’t have enough time to do it in the scientific way he wanted.
When asked if any images from his subconscious are in the movie, Nolan said he had no idea.

Photos: Warner Bros.

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TV Review: RIZZOLI & ISLES

Courtesy TNT

It’s hard for me to review something I neither love nor hate, which is how I feel about the pilot for this new TNT series (Mondays, 10 p.m.) starring Angie Harmon as tough-talking homicide detective Jane Rizzoli and Sasha Alexander as fashion-conscious medical examiner Maura Isles. I always welcome the chance to watch Harmon but the show, after a tense opening, turned out to be average, offering no fresh take on the cop drama. It might not be fair to ask for something original since cop dramas saturate the tube and have done so since TV went color, but all you have to do is look at its lead-in, The Closer, to see how that features a unique character in Kyra Sedgwick’s Brenda Leigh Johnson.

The premiere introduces us to Rizzoli’s family and colleagues and we learn that a murderer who once almost killed her is back, hell bent on finishing what he started with Rizzoli. Rizzoli says she’s not scared, won’t be intimidated into staying at Mom’s house, “I’m a homicide detective!” etc., until of course she gets into a bad situation with her nemesis. Do I have to tell you who prevails during the confrontation?

I haven’t read Tess Gerritsen’s novels on which the show is based but think Harmon is a great choice for the Boston detective, doing her tomboy spitfire thing, similar to what she did on ABC’s short-lived, underrated Women’s Murder Club (another series based on popular novels). I’ve always liked how she never plays dumb, pretty girls despite being gorgeous. Alexander doesn’t have much to do yet; she mostly spouts some medical info and looks fabulous in expensive designer clothes and perfectly highlighted hair. I do not understand why both women drool over Billy Burke (Bella’s dad in the Twilight movies) as an FBI agent because he just ain’t hot. Burke is an impressive actor but his character is dull, gloomy and generates zero sparks with either Rizzoli or Isles. Lorraine Bracco is annoying as Rizzoli’s mother but I guess if my daughter were a cop being hunted by a serial killer, I’d worry and fuss over her safety, too.

I might tune in again next week strictly because of Harmon. Or I may just pick up the books and see her in my head.

Have you read the novels and seen the show? What did you think?

Nerd verdict: Rizzoli & Isles not a total bust, elevated by attractive leads

Buy Ice Cold: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel from Amazon
Buy from Barnes & Noble
Buy from Powell’s Books

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Movie Review: THE GIRL WHO PLAYED WITH FIRE

I loved this book, thought it was better than The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo because there was no opening exposition; it just hit the ground running. Since the Tattoo movie blew my pants off, I was expecting big things for the Fire adaptation.

Hate to say it—I was a little disappointed. Though the story remained mostly faithful to Stieg Larsson’s novel, which moved like a flame on a trail of gasoline, the movie’s pacing was oddly plodding. It’s as if some scenes were held a beat too long when a quicker cutaway was needed to maintain the urgency of the situation. After seeing it, I remembered reading last year that this movie and the next, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest, had been intended for TV, which explains the rhythm and by-the-book procedural feel. Some scenes were probably meant to fade out into commercials while others were intended to come back from them. This impeded the movie’s overall momentum.

It probably didn’t help that there’s a lot of ground to cover here. After Lisbeth becomes the number one suspect in three brutal murders, she goes on the run while Blomkvist tries to find her and clear her name, unearthing secrets about her past, including why she was committed to an asylum when she was twelve. Whereas the revelations are shocking in the book, they lose their punch when disclosed via long, static conversations between characters. Since cinema is a visual medium, I wish director Daniel Alfredson (taking over from Niels Arden Oplev) had found a way to show, not tell.

But it’s not all bad because the electrifying Noomi Rapace returns as Lisbeth Salander and truly, there’s no one better for this role. Lisbeth experiences hell and Rapace goes there. Her performance is devoid of vanity; she does whatever it takes to bring Lisbeth to life. There’s a long stretch when she doesn’t talk but you can read all her thoughts through her eyes, a sign of a smart actress. Lisbeth is softer this time around; she’s often makeup-free (I’m so glad she didn’t get a boob job as she does in the novel) and has a tender scene with her former guardian, Holger Palmgren (Per Oscarsson), showing that our girl is perfectly capable of caring for someone as long as that person isn’t a sadistic rapist pig.

Michael Nyqvist is also back as Mikael Blomkvist, looking even less believable as a handsome ladies’ man than in the previous film (keeping my fingers crossed for Daniel Craig in the American version). He gets Blomkvist’s doggedness across, but doesn’t have the journalist’s fire-in-the-belly righteousness. The rest of the cast is serviceable, with Micke Spreitz credible as the giant monster Ronald Niedermann.

The last quarter of the movie is the strongest, breathholdingly suspenseful despite my knowing what would happen. I jumped as much as the couple next to me in the theater, who probably haven’t read the books since they gasped at every revelation, especially about Zalachenko and Niedermann. The ending differs from the novel’s in several small details and is a little less abrupt, wrapping up with a scene that’s actually the opening of the third book. It’s still open-ended but that’s not why I left the theater feeling dissatisfied.

Nerd verdict: Fire doesn’t quite ignite

Photos © Music Box Films

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THE KIDS ARE Just ALL RIGHT

I couldn’t make a recent screening of The Kids Are All Right but my trusty contributor, Eric Edwards, was kind enough to cover it for me.—PCN

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Director Lisa Cholodenko, working from a script she co-wrote with Stuart Blumberg, poses the question of what really makes a parent a parent in her latest film, The Kids Are All Right (opening July 9). What’s most shocking about it is how it became a theatrical film rather than a Lifetime movie of the week.

Teenage siblings Laser and Joni (Josh Hutcherson and Mia Wasikowska) decide to contact the sperm donor (Mark Ruffalo) used to impregnate their lesbian parents, Nic and Jules (Annette Bening and Julianne Moore, respectively). As expected, this causes a few problems between the happy couple, even making one of them briefly question her sexuality when she finds herself falling for the handsome lothario responsible for her children’s existence. These plot points aren’t exactly groundbreaking but they are handled with care and sensitivity by Cholodenko and the actors she brought together for this film.

And yet, as the end credits spooled, I wondered why I felt let down by a film with so much promise in its title, premise and cast. One of the characters behaves in a completely implausible and baffling way. And I took offense at the blatant rip-off of a scene from Love Actually in which Emma Thompson’s character has a heartbreaking moment while a Joni Mitchell song plays in the background. There’s plenty of Oscar-worthy acting delivered by Bening, Moore, Ruffalo and Wasikowska, but the ending is anticlimactic and flat, making this film just all right instead of great.

At the screening I attended, Cholodenko, Moore, Ruffalo, Hutcherson, and Wasikowska showed up to do Q & A. Some information gleaned:

Ruffalo jokingly wishes he had discovered sperm donation back when he was a struggling actor. Felt he wasted a real talent.
He tracked down Cholodenko after seeing her film, High Art, and said he wanted to work with her. When she came to him with Kids, he wasn’t available and another actor was cast. Ruffalo thought the other guy probably would have done a much better job. Fortuitously, that actor later fell out when Ruffalo was available.
He has completed directing his first film, Sympathy for Delicious, starring Laura Linney and Noah Emmerich, and is waiting for a distributor.
Co-writer Stuart Blumberg has been a sperm donor.
When asked what the younger actors might’ve learned from the more experienced ones, Moore said with a laugh that Hutcherson and Wasikowska learned how to keep their lines on their hands.
Cholodenko doesn’t see herself as a gay director. She simply wanted to tell a good story with meaning and didn’t want to be political or traffic in stereotypes.

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Book Review: Chevy Stevens’s STILL MISSING

Any time someone says a book is “unputdownable,” I take it as a challenge: “Oh, yeah? Watch me.” And I often win.

But author Chevy Stevens (a pseudonym for Rene Unischewski) has earned this word on the back cover of her debut novel Still Missing (St. Martin’s, July 6), making me hate myself every time I had to put it down to attend to basic human needs. I was thisclose to strapping on an adult diaper and a feed bag so I wouldn’t have to take breaks.

Annie O’Sullivan is a Realtor from Vancouver Island who was abducted and held captive for about a year by a man she calls The Freak. Her horrific experience in an isolated cabin up unfolds in first person through sessions with her therapist. From the beginning, you know she survived but don’t know how she escaped or what was done to her. As the sessions continue, you kinda wish she wouldn’t tell you. And just when you think Annie’s ordeal might be over, she discovers the reason behind her abduction. The new revelations are more shattering than anything The Freak did to her.

I usually know right away whether or not I’ll like a book and here’s what hooked me from page one:

Even the guy’s office was a turnoff—black leather couches, plastic plants, glass and chrome desk. Way to make your patients feel comfortable, buddy. And of course everything was perfectly lined up on the desk. His teeth were the only damn thing crooked in his office, and if you ask me, there’s something a little strange about a guy who needs to line up everything on his desk but doesn’t get his teeth fixed.

Photo: Suzanne Teresa

This is Annie’s description of her previous shrink and it perfectly sets up her voice: wary but sharp and dark-witted. Though she doubts she’ll ever find her way back to normal, she’s more resilient than she realizes. What she endures at the hands of The Freak is beyond disturbing (he makes Lord Voldemort seem charming), but I couldn’t stop reading. It’s as if I had to bear witness to Annie’s pain because if I look away, she’ll disappear again, maybe for good.

Stevens’s lean, punch-in-your-gut style held me captive. She doesn’t embellish the terrible events because she doesn’t need to. She does drop an obvious clue to the culprit’s identity long before Annie recognizes it, but Annie’s psychologically scrambled state makes it plausible she wouldn’t catch on.

Throughout most of the book, my stomach hurt from the tension; my skin wasn’t just crawling, it was practically jumping. It’s easy to see why Stevens had to approach only one agent and one publisher with her first manuscript before she was signed to a three-book deal (read more about it here and try not to hate her too much).

Nerd verdict: Searing Missing

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I’ll be missing from this site for the next several days as I go out of town for the holiday weekend. I’ll have Internet access but may choose not to use it. If you observe the Fourth of July, I wish you a safe and wonderful celebration.

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Movie Review: KNIGHT AND DAY

I’ve never been a big fan of Tom Cruise, even before all the crazy talk and couch jumping. He comes across exactly the same way in every movie, no matter who he plays, even Les Grossman in Tropic Thunder. Imagine my surprise, then, when I found myself liking him as Roy Miller in Knight & Day (out today) more than I’ve liked him in anything for a loooong time. It’s as if he realized he doesn’t have to try so hard to prove he’s a mega star.

Roy and June (Cameron Diaz) meet in an airport as she’s flying to Boston to attend her sister’s wedding. They bump into each other twice and it’s super cute with lots of smiles and “No, I’m sorry”s. We know Roy is manipulating the encounters; we just don’t know why. Then they both end up on the same plane and all sorts of crazy stuff breaks out. There are fights in tight spaces and creative use of seat belts and cords from oxygen masks.

After a crash landing, lots of other outrageous things happen in quick succession, with everyone chasing a MacGuffin all over the globe, from Massachusetts to Spain to Austria. Not all of it makes sense but you really don’t need to understand everything. It’s just an excuse to watch Cruise and Diaz banter and have a lot more fun here than they did in Vanilla Sky. Though Roy is a highly skilled action hero, he’s also a former Eagle Scout who’s soft-spoken and polite even while dispatching baddies. “Please move,” he nicely asks a bystander during a fight right before he slams into the space where the person was standing. When June freaks out in the midst of massive gunfire, he says in a calming voice, “I’ll just go talk to these guys and I’ll be right back. Actually, I’m just gonna shoot them, but I’ll be right back, okay?” Instead of busting a vein trying to show us how badass he is, Cruise relaxes into Roy’s gentlemanly ways and the result is rather charming.

Diaz’s June screams a lot at first but the actress manages to make her character’s reactions more realistic than annoying. If I were repeatedly thrown into a hail of bullets, dodging firebombs from airplanes and chased by bulls in Seville, I’d probably behave that way, too. But June eventually gets the hang of things and it’s entertaining to see her develop her action muscle.

Supporting cast includes Viola Davis, who’s completely wasted in the role of an FBI muckety muck, and Peter Sarsgaard, who is problematic because you know he’s a bad guy the instant he appears on screen. No, really, Roy tells June in the beginning if she runs into Sarsgaard, he’s a bad guy. I thought, “Well, duh. It’s Sarsgaard. No warning required.” But this isn’t a big hindrance because the movie isn’t about him. You sign up for the thrill ride with Cameron and Tom as your energetic Cruise directors.

Nerd verdict: Go where the Day takes you.

Photos: Frank Masi

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Movie Review: CYRUS

I usually find Jonah Hill obnoxious in the roles he’s played but he surprised me in Cyrus, the indie film written and directed by brothers Jay and Mark Duplass (limited release, June 18). Hill plays the title character, a son in arrested development who lives with his mama (Marisa Tomei) and loves her just a little too much. When John (John C. Reilly) starts dating Molly and the relationship quickly turns serious, Cyrus launches a passive-aggressive attack—passive and needier than ever with Mom, escalating war when he’s alone with John. What results is a lesson for all parties involved in knowing when to let go and when to fight for something.

Hill is the revelation here. Shorn of his big hair, he’s lowered his usual manic energy to a stillness and fake politeness that makes him a disturbing opponent, a barely contained nutjob you keep waiting to go off the deep end. When Molly is in the room, Cyrus turns on big innocent eyes a la Puss in Boots in the Shrek movies, but then gives John the finger and mouths profanities at him behind Mom’s back. Cyrus’s nastiness isn’t surprising if you’ve seen Hill in movies like Superbad, but the actor also displays a vulnerable side here that suggests he’s got solid dramatic chops.

Reilly turns in masterful work as usual, making us believe a schlub like him could actually land a sexy woman like Tomei (“I’m like Shrek. What are you doing in the forest with Shrek?”). John is too raw and honest for most humans but we can see why he’s endearing to Molly, who’s way past falling for guys who play games. Tomei once again proves her long-ago Oscar is not a fluke, imbuing Molly with a wariness that makes her believable as someone unlucky in love despite her obvious physical gifts.

Though Oedipal tones and wrongness abound, the uncomfortable situations give rise to quite a few laughs. Is it wrong for Cyrus to wrestle with his mother? Did she breastfeed him for wayyy too long? It sounds absurd but the Duplass brothers keep the story grounded in these three lonely people’s need for love and prevent the movie from spinning into ridiculousness. The ending feels a little too pat but after all the weirdness, I was ready for these characters to have a little hope.

Nerd verdict: Sweet, funny Cyrus

Photos: Chuck Zlotnick

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