Blog Archives
Be Kind, Rewind (2008)
Be Kind, Rewind is a celebration of the love of movies and moviemaking, but it wants to shoot for a deeper message and stumbles. When the movie concentrates on remaking famous movies like Ghostbusters, Robocop, and Rush Hour 2, the movie has a ramshackle charm and great comedic spirit. When the film strays to tell a tale about community pride is when the movie gets dull and leaden. The concept of cheap, quick, homemade versions of Hollywood movies (the YouTube-ification if you will) is fun and Jack Black and Mos Def are definitely having fun in the process. But the movie has too many other elements that just don’t work together. The history of a local jazz legend feels awkward and bogs down the movie’s enjoyment. Director Michel Gondry can only do so much with his quirky visual sensibilities before you start to get bored. Be Kind, Rewind is occasionally entertaining and works best when it’s ripping off other movies than trying to stand on its own merits.
Nate’s Grade: C+
Son of Rambow (2008)
The film takes a few notes from 2005’s Millions and presents an amateurish tale of English schoolboys making their own amateurish sequel to a Rambo film. From a visual standpoint the film looks great, it has a slightly offbeat appeal, but there just isn’t any substance here beyond the imaginative visuals. The friendship between the two boys, one a bully and the other a lonely kid apart of a strict religious sect, doesn’t draw much out of the characters or the actors. The kooky stunts and homemade moviemaking made me smile and gives the film a fun, quirky energy. But then Son of Rambow seems to butt heads when it enters more serious dramatic territory like family loss and betrayal. The tone is uneven and the mixture of slapstick and whimsy and real pain and suffering never fully works. Certain subplots like a cool French foreign exchange student (who may not be so cool after all) feel grafted onto a story that needs direction and depth. They feel like distractions. Writer/director Garth Jennings (The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy) tries to imbue the project with a childlike spirit but the story needs a whole lot more emotional focus and a whole lot more work. This ain’t no Millions.
Nate’s Grade: C+
This Film is Not Yet Rated (2006)
Filmmaker Kirby Dick is a ballsy man. First, he crafts a rousing journalistic expose on the un-impartial and arcane practices of the Motion Picture Association of America ratings board. Then, and this is genius, he submits his own muckraking documentary to that same board for a rating. Dick’s potent film is ambitious and tries to do too much, touching every topic related to the MPAA it can think of; it practically steamrolls over the ideas of piracy and the fact that a national ratings board eliminates the all-too-likelihood of arbitrary local ratings systems. But Dick squares the MPAA in his sights and his aim is deadly. This is an organization that says it is voluntary and has no editorial control over how movies are made. But how voluntary is it when the NC-17 rating is treated as a commercial kiss of death, where newspapers won’t run ads, video stores won?t carry the film, and advertising is strictly limited?
Dick makes brilliant note of the different hypocrisies of the ratings systems. Sex is graded far more harshly than wanton violence, and what’s even worse is homosexual sex. Dick juxtaposes film clips side-by-side, one with heterosexual sex where the film received an R-rating, and the other with homosexual sex where the film received an NC-17 rating. The scenes are nearly identical except for the gender of the people involved. Also, sexual thrusting also seems to get the MPAA’s goat. An animated sequence detailing what is and isn’t allowed in a film per rating is hilarious (you did know you got one F-bomb for a PG-13 as long as it is not in reference to sex, right?). There’s a lot of filmmakers in here to share their MPAA horror stories of what was and wasn’t accountable for taste and some of it is baffling; Hilary Swank wiping her mouth after going down, off camera, on a girl is the difference between R and NC-17. The MPAA also has a disturbing habit of grading harshly when it comes to films that show women receiving pleasure through sexual intercourse.
The MPAA is also the only ratings board where its members are kept in secret in an effort, they say, to thwart coercion. Dick hires a private eye, who happens to be a lesbian no less, and together they hunt down the raters and reveal to the public for the first time who these arbitrators of taste really are. MPAA mastermind Jack Valenti said the raters would be comprised of normal parents; well Dick’s film exposes that many on the board have adult children, and some don’t have any kids at all. Plus there are two members of the clergy on this board in an “advisory” function. The film isn’t mean-spirited but is very angry but it’s an anger that Dick makes sure you understand and relate to. The most astonishing aspect of this documentary is that the MPAA actually listened and is loosening certain rules, allowing filmmakers to cite precedence when arguing for or against their ruling (“Hey, you can stab a guy in an ear with a penis in Scary Movie but we can?t have two women kiss?”). This is a must-see for film fanatics and those curious how the industry ceded power to a small group of middle-aged homeowners.
Nate?s Grade: B+
Inside Deep Throat (2005)
I find that there are generally two requirements that make a really great documentary: 1) have an interesting story, and 2) have an interesting way of telling it. I’ve seen documentaries on ripe topics squandered because of the dull and unimaginative ways they tell their tales. The skilled documentary team behind The Eyes of Tammy Faye and Party Monster has set their sights on a little smut film that changed the world in the early 1970s. Deep Throat was a “dirty movie” made for peanuts (25 grand) that ended up becoming the most profitable film of all time, eventually grossing more than $600 million. The story behind its meteoric rise, cultural acceptance, and damnation hits both requirements, thus making Inside Deep Throat a sensationally entertaining documentary.
It all started in 1971 when Gerard Damiano wanted to make an inexpensive pornographic film. Back in those days, many aspiring filmmakers actually got their start in porn (Wes Craven admits it). Damiano was in the planning process when he was visited by a man who wanted his girlfriend, Linda Lovelace, to appear in the eventual porno. He swore his girlfriend could do the most amazing trick. Lovelace demonstrated her trick, the full swallowing of an erect penis. Damiano was dumbstruck. He was determined not just to involve Lovelace but to base an entire film around her stunning ability. Deep Throat was written in three days, filmed in six days, but the furor it would bring would be irrevocably long lasting.
Deep Throat, as many of the crew will happily report, is not exactly a good movie. In fact, some call it the worst pornographic film of all time. Lovelace’s character found sex joyless, that is, until a doctor (Harry Reems) discovers that she has her clitoris all the way in the back of her throat. Thus to orgasm she has to swallow head-on (oh the double meaning). When the crew actually witnessed Lovelace’s cavernous abilities firsthand, they too were flabbergasted. But they wouldn’t be alone. Inside Deep Throat makes smart use of archival footage to prove how mainstream a small smut flick became. We see clips of Bob Hope and Johnny Carson cracking jokes about the film, and most amusingly of all are one or two interviews with little old ladies who “wanted to see a dirty picture.” Deep Throat crossed over and people went out in their Sunday finest to watch a hard-core porno.
Inside Deep Throat is rated NC-17 and with good reason. We do get to see Lovelace strut her stuff and the film almost playfully teases an audience with anticipation. We hear interviewees discuss their amazement; we see a close-up of Reems face as he gets pleasured. By the time the scene in question is shown uncut, we’re eager to witness this feat of fantastic fellatio ourselves. Let’s be honest, you can?’t have a documentary about Deep Throat‘s impact without showing the goods.
Filmmaking duo Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato have a very visually satisfying way of telling their story. Images tear across the screen and animation pops, all set to what must amount to most of the soundtrack to Boogie Nights. The glossy visual flair reminds me of the swirling, near-pop-out book imagery of The Kid Stays in the Picture. The pacing of Inside Deep Throat is near break-neck, with the film clocking in at just over 90 minutes. I wish that the filmmakers had spent more time on their subject and gone more in depth into certain areas like Lovelace’s turnaround from girl next door goddess to anti-porn crusader back to fifty-something nude model (she was killed in a car accident in 2002).
The cultural splash Deep Throat made is interesting enough, but the meat of the story is in the battles that would ensue. Damiano openly talks about how the mob controlled the early porn industry. He admits that he refused his share in the millions out of fear that he might have had his legs broken, or worse. There’s a long tangled web of mafia influence in the proliferation of Deep Throat. It was banned in over 30 states, but everywhere it went it became a hit. A Mafioso says that they were making so much money that they had to count it by the pound. Mob hits would materialize over the film’s profits and territory.
Even more fascinating, the U.S. government, to no one’s surprise, declared the film indecent. They couldn’t prosecute the director, or the distributors (unless they liked sleeping with the fishes), or anyone really making money off of the success of Deep Throat. So what’s a stubborn government to do? They prosecuted Reems for his involvement in a pornographic film. It was the first time an actor was ever prosecuted for his participation in art after the fact. Celebs like Warren Beatty and Jack Nicholson came to Reems’ aid, fearful of what might happen if a government could retroactively punish artists. Sadly, Reems was found guilty and sentenced to years in prison and was really never the same afterwards.
But instructional films on sexuality were still okay as far as government was concerned, and we see clips of them in all their medical film hilarity (apparently some positions are not meant for the obese we’re told). These were acceptable because they were meant to help and inform, whereas porn is meant to entertain.
The film’s interviews comprise some of its best and worst moments. Most of the Deep Throat crew is in their 60s or 70s now, and hearing them talk about porn and sexual acts does make you titter a bit. The crew provides funny anecdotes and some of the juiciest material. However, the film also curiously interviews people like Dick Cavett and Bill Maher. The expected talking heads are here like Dr. Ruth, Camille Paglia, John Waters, Hugh Hefner and Larry Flynt, but they regularly don’t have anything insightful to say.
Inside Deep Throat goes back and forth with its objectivity. It’s obviously pro-freedom of speech and doesn’t mind ridiculing the government agents who tried taking Deep Throat down (oh the double meaning). Particularly telling is an FBI agent who wishes that terrorism could be tidied up so that he could finally get to the real importance, which is stopping people from seeing pornography. One of the main points of the prosecution of Deep Throat was that it “wrongly” purported the idea of a clitoral orgasm (I think many will find some error with this judgment). It’s easy in retrospect to chide government officials ruling on inaccurate information or just plain ignorance. It may be too easy for some viewers, but for me it’s fair game to lambaste any idiot trying to strip me of my Constitutional rights.
Inside Deep Throat is an engrossing if light-hearted look at a moment in time. Some of the seedier elements feel skipped over, but this is a documentary on a fascinating subject told with a pleasing visual style. Don’t be put off by the NC-17 rating or the subject matter. Inside Deep Throat is more than a behind-the-scenes featurette on a wildly successful porno. It’s a fast, funny, and greatly entertaining time capsule of an era where boundaries were still being pushed, both by artists and by censors. And in today’s FCC-fearing landscape, maybe not everything has changed since Deep Throat brought porn into the mainstream.
Nate’s Grade: B+
Lost in La Mancha (2003)
Poor Terry Gilliam. One of the best visual directors today hardly ever gets a break. If there was justice in the world (a rhetorical question) Gilliam would be directing a Harry Potter movie. Just imagine t
he greatness of something like that. But Gilliam is seen as an eccentric who doesnt keep good track of his budget, as evidenced by the inflating costs of his Baron Munchausen effort. As a result of making classy yet quirky pictures his way Gilliam has become a director that works on the fringe. His last effort was a delirious retelling of the Don Quixote tale. When it came time to film The Man Who Killed don Quixote it seems everyone, even God, was against Gilliam realizing his dream.
Lost in La Mancha is a fascinating and equally heart breaking documentary following the making of and, more so, the breaking of Gilliams movie. For starters the location for a pivotal scene in the desert is located near a Spanish air force base and fighter jets roar overhead. Then theres a flash food that destroys equipment and a set. Then theres the star of the picture that may or may not have cancer but sure cant ride a horse. Its enough to pull your hair out. Lost in La Mancha is like the cinematic version of the highly entertaining, and addictive, HBO series Project Greenlight: witness movie making first hand and witness one catastrophe after another! The two directors of Lost in La Mancha are the same people that created the nearly 90 minute documentary on the trials and tribulations of making 12 Monkeys (and this documentary is by far the best special feature on any DVD ever released). The two have a certain fondness for Gilliam but push the Gilliam-as-Quixote image way too much.
The really sad part about this documentary is that the glimpses it does show of the film (when it is working and not going into devastation) prove it could have been a wonderful and whimsical fantasy. Heck, he even got Johnny Depp to be in it! Gilliam will move on as will everyone else involved in this aborted film but there will now be a lasting mark. Whether it serves as an open sore or a Band-Aid is a different matter.
Nate’s Grade: B+
S1mone (2002)
Director Viktor Taransky (Al Pacino) needs a hit like a crack addict (my apologies to Chris Rock). His new movie is in the can but his temperamental star (Wynona Ryder in a juicy cameo) pulls out and demands all footage of her be left on the cutting room floor. The studio is close to dropping Taransky’s film deal, and the studio head just happens to be Taransky’s ex-wife (Catherine Keener).
Under this intense pressure Taransky retreats to mourn his failed potential, until an eccentric one-eyed computer engineer gives him the key to his solution. It seems that instead of interacting with actors and their egos and trailer demands, Taransky has found a new movie star — one completely made up of ones and zeroes named Simone. Taransky edits Simone into his film and soon after the nation is in love with the digital blonde. Simone mania sweeps the nation and soon her smiling image graces all sorts of memorabilia. The public can’t get enough of the mysterious Simone who never goes to public functions and only seems to speak or appear for Taransky.
Writer/director Andrew Niccol (Gattaca) has some fun with the premise but tries to have his cake and eat it too when it comes to his satire. S1mone starts out satirizing egotistical stars, then the Hollywood system, then the press, then the public as star worshipers. The movie is all over the map trying to have something witty to say about all these different topics but is too busy to settle down on any one for a while. The satire S1mone embodies feels deflated from all the work it’s trying to do.
Pacino has always been able to do comedy but seems wearier than ever. He indulges in his comic like over-the-top aggression he’s been doing since Dick Tracy. Keener plays another of her icy businesswomen roles although she thaws quite easily and quickly in the film.
There’s a rather funny subplot involving Pruitt Taylor Vince and Jason Schwartzman as tabloid reporters on the prowl of the elusive Simone that deserves much more attention than it gets. The bulk of the movie could have been these two entertaining characters.
When Taransky finds that his creation has become more than he can handle he tries to discredit her through a series of very funny public appearances and avante garde film choices. But then S1mone sadly goes back to its more mediocre roots. Taransky tries to get rid of Simone but it all horribly backfires.
As the film progresses you start to realize all the gaping holes that come up – like how can Taransky, a self-described computer illiterate, handle the most technical computer program of all time? How come no one would find out that Simone lacks a birth certificate, social security number or even tax records for her studio work? And why does the audience have to sit through the disgustingly cute daughter of Taransky and Keener, who just happens to be a computer whiz-kid, besides the fact she’ll have a late fourth quarter save of dad?
It’s not that S1mone is necessarily a bad film; it just has this missing piece to it when you watch it. Some scenes are funny, many drag, and the whole thing needed to be tighter and punchier. And to clear up any confusion, it is indeed an ACTRESS who plays Simone. Her name is Rachel Roberts.
Nate’s Grade: C+
Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (2001)
Kevin Smith returns back to his comedy roots. No more movies with a message (Chasing Amy and Dogma) it’s back to good ole’ snowballing and stink palming. His latest, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, is like a giant thank-you card to all his fans that have made the man who he is today. It ties up the entire View Askew universe so Kevin can drift off into uncharted ventures of film making and not have to keep referencing the same damn characters. Plus there’s plenty of good-natured vulgarity to go around.
The plot of Jay and Silent Bob is nothing too heavy but seems to keep the film on a continuous pace, unlike the sometimes stagnant feel Mallrats had (what, they’re in one location for 90 minutes). It seems that after getting a restraining order at the Quick Stop on them, Jay and Silent Bob learn that Miramax is making a movie from a comic book that is in fact based off of them. Learned of the riches they could make they seek out the comic’s author Holden McNeil (Ben Affleck’s first appearance in the film) and demand a piece of the pie. Holden tells them that he long ago sold his right to his partner Banky Edwards (Jason Lee, in his second appearance in the film) and that there’s nothing they can do to stop the film. Jay suddenly gets the idea that if they stop the movie from ever getting made then they don’t have to worry. So off go our stoner duo on a mission to sabotage and satirize Hollywood.
Along the way are a hitch-hiker (George Carlin) advising the best way to get a ride is to go down in your morals, a confused nun (Carrie Fisher), the cast of Scooby Doo offering a ride (which will be 100x funnier than the feature film coming out this summer), a beautiful band of international diamond thieves (Eliza Dusku, Ali Larter, Jennifer Swalbach-Smith, Shannon Elizabeth), a rescued chimpanzee, a dogged Wildlife agent (Will Ferrell), and a full barrage of hilarity once Hollywood is finally hit.
The best barbs are laid out by Ben Affleck and Matt Damon bickering about the other’s film choices on the set of Good Will Hunting 2: Hunting Season. This moment is truly inspired and full of great humor from Gus van Sant too busy counting his money to yell action to Damon turning into a vigilante hero. I almost fell on the floor laughing during this sequence.
When Jay and Silent Bob hit Hollywood is when the comedy starts hitting its stride as this Jersey Greek chorus interacts with the Hollywood life and encounters many a celebrity. The jokes are usually right on target except for Chris Rock’s performance of a racism obsessed film director. Rock’s portrayal becomes grating to the moviegoer far before it’s over, though he does get a few choice lines.
Smith as a director has finally elevated his visual art into something that can sustain itself instead of his earlier just-hold-the-camera-and-shoot movies. There are pans, zooms, quick cuts, cranes, action sequences, and even CGI. Smith is evolving as an artist but still staying his “dick and fart joke” self, and Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back is evidence. And that’s fine by me.
Nate’s Grade: B
Reviewed 20 years later as part of the “Reviews Re-View: 2001” article.
Shadow of the Vampire (2000)
Darkly comical with great stabs of satire at the film industry (bloodsuckers in the movies anyone? Hmmmmmm). Willem Dafoe retains his title as Creepiest Actor Alive and goes for broke with a tour de force performance that should have you checking under the bed. Shadow of the Vampire is alive, to use the term sparingly, with wit and a slow but maturely steadied pace. Dafoe deserves an Oscar and your fear.
Nate’s Grade: A
Cecil B. Demented (2000)
John Waters’ latest excuse to venture outside of the home is a full out assault on the commercialism and corporate sap proliferating the film industry today. Cecil B. Demented is as much a commentary, or a ferocious editorial, than a comedy. Waters’ opinion is easily known as a militant group of “film terrorists” attack cinema and any Patch Adams that dare get in their way. Stephen Dorff leads the pack as they kidnap a famous movie starlette (Melanie Griffith) and brainwash her Patty Hearst style. The end result is a band of misfits trying to seize the world from bad movies – a noble cause I’d say. The movie is short but feels long at times. Cecil B. Demented is at its caustic best when the film terrorists are in action battling the ills of society and cinema. What’s surprising is the amount of action in a John Waters’ film – consider this his Die Hard. Some of the jokes are off kilter but gut-bursting (“Porno fans, your queen needs your help!”), while just a few are tiresome (Forest Gump 2? *sigh*). John Waters’ social commentary/comedy is sadistic joy and who doesn’t enjoy seeing a bad movie tortured?
Nate’s Grade: B








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