|
Best Album:
Super Furry Animals
"Phantom Power"
Best Show:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer:
Season 7
Best DVD,
TV:
Farscape:
Seasons 1-3
Best DVD, Movie:
The Two Towers
Best Game:
Deus Ex 2
Best
Novel: Nick
Tousches' In the Hand of Dante
1.
The
Lord of the Rings Trilogy
Directed by Peter Jackson

Return
of the King may not be the best
film of the series. And it may not even the “best” film of the year, but this third and final chapter in the heralded Lord of the
Rings trilogy is the embodiment of the sum being more than its parts.
What does allow it to steal my top spot, however, is that it's a part of
something so much bigger than itself.
That’s why I’m selecting the whole trilogy for this year’s top
honor in moviemaking. Call it cheating but if you approach Lord of the
Rings as one gigantically beatific filmic effort then all the flaws of
the individual films magically disappear. The meandering Fellowship
ends up looking like a substantial first act; the hit- or-miss subplots
of the Two Towers is just the series warming up and gearing up for
The Return of the King, a film which, as I said in my December
review, is the ultimate “consolidator of a trilogy that has gone from
precarious to perfection in the most naturalistic of ways.” I suppose the
most magnificent thing abut
ROTK is that it ended up holding together as well as it did--the
palpable sense of dread mixed with fervent action and substantial, dare I
say Shakespearian, emotions add up to the perfect escapist fantasy film.
Nothing else in my lifetime may top the experience of watching these films.
That Peter Jackson didn’t screw it up as many
directors before him making
their crucial “third film” have (check out my comments on Matrix 3
below), that the performances only deepen during the final stretch as
they advance on Mount Doom, and that this impeccably paced
film makes the other two look so seamless is why I’m comfortable with
finally, FINALLY, calling this already timeless series the best film(s)
of the year… I only hope the Academy Awards do the same thing.
The
Trilogy:
A+

2.
Lost In
Translation Directed by Sofia Coppola
Now… on to
the real “best” film of the year. At the risk of sounding maudlin, Sofia
Coppola’s Lost in Translation may be the most soulful and life
affirming film I’ve ever seen. It may also be the most illusive romantic
comedy ever made. Every once and a while a film comes along and floors
me in a very deep and personal way and so I can’t fully explain
Lost’s effect over me other than to say this sleepy film's ethereal
qualities lulled my aesthetic sensibilities at around the same time the two
leads were warming my heart. As a man searching
for meaning in life and finding it in the youthful gaze of an equally
"lost" girl (Scarlett Johansson) while visiting the strange and wonderful
world of Japan, Bill Murray delivers not only the best performance
of the year but the best performance of his career. And who could have
guessed that one the most romantically simpatico couples in movie
history court each other in a film where a kiss is barley exchanged? Lost
is a story that takes the typical film model of burgeoning love and
replaces it with something so much more stimulating than interlocking
bodies. This film gives us a story of interlocking minds.

3.
Kill Bill
Directed by Quentin Tarantino
A bravura piece
of filmmaking that’s unrelenting, unforgettable, unparalleled… and
that’s only the first half of Tarantino’s blood soaked, two-part kung-fu
saga!!! Uma Thurman cuts and slices her way through the coolest revenge
flick of the year. This is an artifact of retro kung-fu pulp that’s even better than
the mélange of films being paid homage to. This is also proof positive
that QT is more, so much more than a one hit wonder.

4.
Songs From the
Second Floor
Directed by Roy Andersson
Songs
is one of the best films I’ve ever seen precisely because it’s the only
film of it’s kind I’ve ever seen. To describe or deconstruct the “plot”
is to miss the point. Songs is an absurdist end-of-days foreign film that
defies rational logic; one tableau after another played before me with a
simultaneous effect of humor, ghastly anticipation and flat out wonder.
Shot by the visionary Swedish director Roy Andersson, the film depicts
many enigmatic vignettes (from a man peddling plastic Jesus' to vistas
of endless traffic jams) but the camera never moves, it just sits there and
observers these strange beings and I may found myself doing the same
thing. The characters that inhabit this film have no earthly motivation
but neither did Charlie’s three vacuous Angels, so quality is obviously
not inherent in a movie's logic. If you’re lucky enough to see the film,
then sit back and don’t allow the word “why?” to enter your
consciousness.
A
Full Review

5.
Mystic River
Directed by Clint Eastwood
There are
a few things that keep Clint Eastwood’s new drama from taking the top
spot. First off, the Tim Robins misdirection belongs in a movie that
is more concerned with thrills than story (something like Eastwood’s
last pop thriller Blood Work). Secondly, the explanation
of why the killer did what he or she or they did was never adequately
explored and does not hold up after a second viewing. Otherwise, this
is a nearly flawless and entirely tragic crime odyssey where three men who
have known each other since childhood meet many years later under the
circumstances of a murdered child. The men are played by the great Kevin
Bacon, the greater Tim Robbins and the greatest Sean Penn, and Penn’s
portrait of a morally complex man tormented by sadness and revenge is
unforgettable—he’ll get the Oscar no problem. Thinking back to the
films I’ve seen, high mined drama didn’t get much better than Penn’s
gut wrenching balcony sobbing scene were the friend that “may” have
killed his daughter, Robbins, consoles the grieving father. While the
formula may be a bit too Stephen King-ish for most, the sober
minded/no-nonsense Clint makes Mystic River a crime film about
so much more than the crime. There is a eerie sense of Greek tragedy
as all the events of past and present interconnect into one inciting
movie going experience. If it beats Return of the King for
best picture I’ll not only understand but I’ll be happy be for it. A film
like this was made to win awards.

6.
House of Sand
and Fog
Directed by Vadim Perelman
This
film floored me. If I haven’t lost you already, listen up. Please forget
about the pretentious title and daft trailers, give it the chance to
floor you, too. House of Sand and Fog tells the multifaceted tale
of a woman who is evicted from her house because of some chicken shit
tax loophole only to find out that an Iranian family of émigrés have
moved in and she can do nothing about it. Her home is lost, she is lost…
yeah, I know, this notion is analogous to not having a sense of
being, etc, etc., but the heavy handedness works much better than the Kevin Kline
film
Life as a House in which a similar simile (he, he, sounds funny)
was used. “She is a blind bird,” the ironclad homeowner says of its
former “irresponsible” owner. Kingsley as that man plays the role with a
deep respect for the cautious melodrama and this performance ranks up
there as some of his best work to date. Here is an actor that has done a
complete 180 from his dizzyingly over-the-top performance in 2001’s
Sexy Beast yet he still retains the same coiled up inner verve from
that film. The hard-as-nails ex Iranian general could have been an all
out villain (I’m thinking something like Michael Keaton from Pacific
Heights) but is instead a complex man who does what he does out of
necessity and duty. So, then, Kingsley and Connolly, as the scornful
alcoholic whose house he’s “stolen,” clash ideologies in a film that
takes a similar moral high ground as last year’s equally challenging
Changing Lanes. Both films allow us to decide what’s right, what’s
wrong and what’s unanswerable, while remaining on the sidelines.
Directed with a time tested lyrical beauty, Vadim Perelman’s
House of Sand and Fog is easy to stomach because of its emphasis
on dramatic understatement over broad sentimentality. There’s no heroes,
just a classy morality tale where our allegiance/disfavor/pity for the
two different sides is tested in one scene after another.
This is most emotionally demanding film of the year. There’s nothing
pretentious about it. This film feels.
A

7.
Nowhere in
Africa
Directed by Jill Spracher
Winner of last year’s best foreign film Oscar and released in
America this year, Nowhere is the kind of film that you only need
to see once. Once this haunting film gets in you, it’s a part of you.
This film tells a story of a Jewish family escaping Nazi Germany and immigrating to Africa
(while going native in the process); the complex depiction of the
displaced cultural traditions of the African Diaspora bring us to an understanding of how
different cultures relate to each other and how, during WWII, the
ever-popular movie notion of survival could also apply to preserving
ones personal and cultural identity.

8.
Bad Santa
Directed by Terry Zwigoff
To
distil the essence of Bad Santa would not be as difficult. I’ll
let the film’s embittered elf's observation of the eponymous character
sum up the experience:
“Your soul is shit. Every single fucking
thing about is ugly."
Yup,
that about sums it up. If Kill Bill is full of unrelentingly
gruesome action then Bad Santa must be its comedy equivalent.
It’s unrelentingly mean. A dark comedy --pitch black, in fact—that, in
the process of offending everyone on God’s puke green earth, is easily
the funniest film I saw all year. Call me demented but I’d choose this
raucous Christmas comedy over the tame Elf any day.
Though Zwigoff's twisted tale is certainly not for everyone, watch it and tell me you
didn’t laugh at the scene where Billy Bob tells a hopeful young boy:
“Wish in one hand, shit in another, and see which one fills up first.”
A
Full Review

9.
Master and
Commander
Directed by Peter Weir
The Best
B+ film of the year! Really, though, the film is a lot better than the
arbitrary grade anyone could assign it. After enduring failed
epics like Cold Mountain, I respect what this film is doing a lot more now.
Master and Commander is a flat out amazing achievement. Amazing not
only because of the visuals but the dynamic between the crafty 19th
century
British
naval crew and their dreadful anticipation of a far off threat
(ze powerful French warship) that lurks
in the nearby waters like Jaws, except with a bigger superiority complex. Amazing also because stars Russell Crowe and Paul Bettany,
playing shipmates and friends on the British frigate give
heartfelt, subtle and generous performances in a big studio film where
that was the last thing I expected. And, of course, amazing because
Peter Weir has created the most expensive (and expansive) independent
film I've ever seen.

10.
Love Actually
Directed by Richard Curtis
“Love is
everywhere. Love, actually, is all around.”
His
name is “Prime Minister” and he’s a big time bachelor (one of the dozen
significant characters doomed to fall in love) who also happens to be
England’s new, well, just look at the bloke's name. Played by the one-note-and-loving-it
Hugh Grant, our first glimpse of this charming Brit is on his first day on
the job as England’s new leader. It may be no coincidence that during the
opening credits, just when the words “Written and Directed by Richard Curtis”
appear, the people on-screen start clapping for their new prime minister. Or
are they really clapping for the film’s director? That’s more like it
because, you see, this film is a celebration not really of “love” but of
itself; or, rather, a celebration of films about love. Call it the Scream
of love cliché stories, the Thin Red Line of epic rom-coms, the Robert
Altman of romance movie ensembles. Plus all that…on Ecstasy. So by the end,
when a grandiose airport montage of lovers greeting each other played before
a grinning movie audience in Los Angeles, it felt like I had seen all these
distinct characters starring in their own movies. Which is amazing because
this supercharged film gives the audience no breathing room; it has little in
the way of narrative finesse and there are no wasted scenes. At its core it’s
an unabashed, 200 proof bottle of pure cinematic love juice—ew. It also
transcends feel-good territory to become the feel-great movie of the year.
A-
11.
Anything Else
As I’ve said over and over to anyone who will listen to my inane rambling:
Woody Allen is just about the best director working today. The fact that
Anything Else,
his new
romantic comedy (now on DVD), doesn’t crumble under the weight of his
antiquated (but still appreciated by some) conventions is proof positive of
Allen's creative endurance; the Woodman's directing style treads on intellectually
esoteric territory and I much prefer this solipsistic approach to his
slapstick comedy in films like Small Time Crooks or Curse of the
Jade Scorpion. This gorgeous ode to Allen’s
Manhattan
days finds the director at a new and exciting point in his career. The plot
about a nebbish writer (Jason Biggs channeling a younger Allen) who tries
to appease his manic depressive girlfriend (Christina Ricci, much better
here than in Monster) has been done before but under Allen’s
tutelage (and a superbly energizing supporting role) the material seems like
breath of fresh New York air--which isn't that fresh, but you get my point.
Smart, funny and anything else I can think of, this film is a blissful
account of an old master that isn’t done talking.
12.
Girl With A
Pearl Earring

What a year these two are
having! The second Colin Firth and Scarlett Johansson film to crack the top twenty. Slow, boring, and insufferable… sure it is, but I
found this languid drama about a peasant girl and a famous painter to be
a subtle masterpiece. One of the biggest surprises of the year but more
than that, a great break from the disappointing (and noisy) lot of
Hollywood winter films and sentimental dreck like Cold Mountain
or In America. Since every shot has the composition of a gorgeous
painting and since Scarlett has so much unspoken chemistry with her
costar, who needs a conventionally linear plot? In this film it’s not
about what’s being said but what’s not being said and how what is
not being said is, um, not being said. It’s all subtext.
13.
Open Range
Go ahead and dismiss it, but you'll be missing out on on the best
western since Unforgiven. Kevin Costner’s high planes drama is
intimate when it needs to be and epic the rest of the time. The best
film of the summer didn’t need to dish out non-stop action but, instead, one
solid action set piece (a shoot out that rivals the battle from
Tombstone) where we --get this-- actually care about the characters
that are about to be shot at.
14.
Lost in La Mancha
Watch Terry Gilliam go mad (well, at least more mad) as he attempts to
film The Man Who Killed Don Quixote and fails miserably. This
precautious documentary chronicles how the doomed production (starring
Johnny Depp and Jean Rochefort) founders as it encounters so much bad
luck that the only word that can be used to describe the production is
"cursed." From a near biblical flood to funding problems to Jean’s bad
prostate, the film was just never meant to be. But the disastrous
production wasn’t a total loss because this film was born from the ashes
of a trounced vision. In this enthralling and glorified making-of
documentary, we see Gilliam as a determined mastermind. We also see that
while he may be a brilliant director he needs limitations imposed on his vast imagination. This doc’s
willingness to be unflattering towards all parties involved is a
testament to its total fucking coolness. Gilliam doesn’t much care how
he looks, he just wants to get this baby made... and we're right there
with him.
A-
15.
Winged Migration
Birds. Birds flying. That’s it. That’s great. Take a colorful cast of
Aves, capture breathtaking images of flight, add the two together for
this no nonsense, hardly narrated documentary from France and you will
be treated to one of the most transcendent films of the year. I was
given this DVD for Christmas and nowadays when I'm stressed, instead of
yelling out “serenity now!!!” a la Frank Costanza, all I do now is turn
my head, look at the purddey birds flying and go “ah” as my blood
pressure plummets like a Northern Gannet. I’m now cool with the French
again.
A-
16.
Man on the Train
Speaking of being cool with the French. Few films this year contained
the intellectual restraint of director Patrice Leconte’s Man on the
Train, a film which could have been showy and pretentious or, well,
French, but
instead opted for quietly infectious drama. Leconte has made such films as
The Widow of Saint-Pierre, Girl on the Bridge and Monsieur
Hire and just about every new film of his lands with a bullet on my top
twenty. The plot is simple and the pacing is briskly thrilling. Rochefort (who was in Lost in La Mancha) as an aging poetry
teacher that wants to switch lives with a bad ass thief is brilliant in
this quiet (and funny) meditation on life and the roles we play in it.
As we see two different men in two widely different places in life
living vicariously through each other, I realized that the third element
to the equation was myself being totally lost in these character’s
lives.
17.
Terminator 3

The
most amazing thing about T3 –besides the exquisite sight of
Arnold’s bare ass—is that it’s better than T2. I loved this film and not
just because of the quality of action under Jonathan Mostow’s sturdy
direction, but because I expected it to be a dud. Or at the very least
just another summer of '03 movie. It wasn’t. It was the best movie-going
experience I had
all summer, in fact. To revive this precious franchise, the filmmakers
needed to inject it a sense of humor and for those who didn’t see it or
for those who misread it, know that the third Terminator film found that
sense of humor. Yeah, it's a comedy; deal with it. So much so that the
film in its current state is almost an all-out satire. If anything can
make me forget that Arnold is my new republican Governator, it’s this
polished piece of action/comic escapism.
18.
The Magdalene
Sisters
Sexually repressed girls
in Ireland find themselves in a Church prison run by demented nuns. Though it wasn't the
soft-core sex romp I imagined going into it, The Magdalene Sisters
is a jolting exposé. Geraldine McEwan as the vicious nun gives an
unforgettably scaly performance. But what may be more scary than
the nuns is that the Catholic church actually allowed this to happen for
years. So grim it's practically a horror film.
19.
American Splendor
I'll
admit that the film hasn’t done much to grow on me but my post-Splendor
malaise should not discount the film's daringness and originality.
As biopics go, I've seen a lot worse. It could have been
--gasp!!!-- straightforward. The film stars a superb Paul Giamatti as an
iconoclastic and unconventional underground comic writer (are there any
other kind?) who makes his mundane life the center of his comic’s
world... but it's so much more than that. In telling a man's life story
using the medium of film, the notion of blending elements of a
documentary, of animation, and of a formalistic narrative makes for a
captivating new experience that somehow makes perfect sense. No novel
could ever do this.
20.
X2: X-Men United
Because on
that rare occasion when a superhero film is done right, it must me
acknowledged.
Wild Card
Pick:
Rules of Attraction
An
overwhelming amount of guilt compels me to mention a film that didn't
even come out in '03. I must call attention to this scatological,
college-set anthology of drugs, sex and malcontents because, besides
being one of the best directed films of recent years, it is also one of
the coolest. Roger Avery (yeah, the co-writer of Pulp Fiction)
energizes every scene with an almost magical aura of filth. The most
brilliant specimen of iconoclastic fiction since Fight Club. See
it. NOW!!!
The worst of 2003

XXX
Passes the torch to Gigli
Worse than Sauron getting the ring, Ben Affleck’s career choices have
not only hurt cinema as a whole but possibly the entire human
civilization!!! The actor’s reign of terror began two years ago with the
worst film of the decade, Pearl Harbor. He took a year off from
torturing cinema patron’s dammed souls and resumed his unholy crusade of
making crap films and making sure his orange toaster head was on the
cover of every tabloid mag in the union. 2003 began when the now bronzed
actor smote us with Daredevil. He followed that bout of comic
book diarrhea with, oh nothing, just one of the worst films of all time:
Gigli. But after this rampage, the beast’s hunger was still not
quenched. The beast needed more. The beast needed to abuse audiences
even more and did so by finishing us of with the radiant awfulness of a
film called Paycheck. Affleck must be stopped.
The worst film of the
year. Just about the worst film ever made. Trash. Dreck. Defining the
essence of awkward. Incompetent direction by Martin Tits, poorly written by
who the fuck cares, and worst than the filmmaker: pathetically acted. Gigli
is absolute trash, it’s awful, Ben Affleck is as likable as a flesh eating
genital disease and Jennifer Lopez has no chemistry with the man she (was)
supposed to marry in real life (the media circus they have created around
their own oversaturated image makes the lack of chemistry ironic and
amusing). Hum, I’m missing something… oh yeah, the film –if you could call
it a film— is odious, rank, smelly and, um, stupid, stupid, stupid; so
unreleaseable
that it makes a case for tossing bad art (and, yes, if there can be such a
thing, this IS the very definition of “bad art”) in a glowing red bonfire
but now I’m think that wouldn’t be enough. We must cast all prints of it
into the fiery depths of Mount Doom.
I didn’t
pay for it when I snuck in, but I would pay hundreds just to lose the
memory of seeing it. The Affleck reign of terror began this year with
Daredevil and ended with Paycheck.
Leprechaun
3? It was
better. American Ninja 3? Again, better. What about if anyone was ever
stupid enough to attempt a third Tomb Raider, a third Legally
Blonde, or –gulp—a turd, I mean third Charlie’s Angels? Well
then, in that case: they would be better, better and better. And I won’t
even get into how good Lord of the Rings 3 and Terminator 3 look
when placed along side the third and –let’s hope— final Matrix film.
Here is a film that has no discernable reason for existing.
It is an aborted abomination of cinematic
nothingness. A forced idea.
While not technically
the WORST film of the year, Matrix is certainly the most
disappointing film of the year. And more than that, it is a shameful
exhibition of writing, acting, direction, and... worst of all: our
anticipation. False hype puts this Wachowski Brother Matrix
monstrosity at the top of my hit list
of malice.
Every year I see one
of these. A film everybody loves. A film that gets a lot of Oscar coverage.
A film I hate. As with the equally sketchy Pleasantville, director
Gary Ross set out to make the artificial feel good film of the season and
he did just that. The director’s love of himself is only matched by the
film’s sappy worshiping of its own subject matter and the drama is inflated
to the point of period movie nausea--we’re to believe that this horse
practically won WWII for the allies yet the beast couldn’t even get me to
crack a smile.
What’s up
with Luke Wilson? How could this actor be in possibly the three most
unlikable films of the year and still be, well, likable?
Charlie’s Angels 2
is so lame that it couldn’t even attain the status of memorably bad. Rest
assured that it’s just as awful as the first Charlie’s Angels, but
how much more energy must I project on this creatively bankrupt series? I
hate the gravity-free, faux-feminist narrative, I hate the director, I hate
everything about this series, in fact, but it just hit me: The film, like
the three mind numbingly annoying lead actresses playing the “angels,”
feeds off our attention (be it good or bad) and so I figure that the best
thing to do is ignore these things in hopes that they’ll go away.
The second Wilson flop of the summer was
Legally Blonde 2, and the
good news is that it’s better than the first Legally Blonde… but,
really, who cares, it’s still awful. In this film Reece Witherspoon gives
the three angels, the Mona Lisa Smile gals and the two uptown girls a run
for their money as the most annoying female on-screen presence of the year.
Alex And Emma
(D-)
is flat out romance-film pap. Pure garbage. More implausible than the
president’s State of the Union address. This film completes the Luke Wilson
anomaly… pair the guy up with the irksome Cameron Diaz, pair him up with
the
shrill Reece Witherspoon and pair his sorry as up with a no-talent like
Kate Hudson and, like a really good Teflon toilet bowl, the shit just won’t
stick.
Bravo Luke, you have
starred in… Charlie’s Angels, Legally Blonde, Soul Survivors,
Alex and Emma, Charlie’s Angels 2 and Legally Blonde 2 …and
after these six F-D- films, you still haven’t pissed me off as one Gigli.
Sometimes a director
can be too good for the material. In this film’s case the studio should
have aimed lower. I mean… it’s a story about the Hulk. Guy gets angry, guy
smashes things, guy fights a super-villain. That’s all we need but this
film couldn’t even do that right. It just had to aim a little higher and as
it a result it fell much lower and as such, is being judged that much
harder. Ang lee wanted to make a psychologically taut superhero film.
When action meets theatrical pathos, you got the same formula as
Crouching Tiger. Great idea. So why did Lee have to remind us, every
step of the way, that this was a superhero film? It’s kind of hard to lose
oneself in the drama if you’re looking at a constantly changing screen with
comic book inspired split screen upon split screen images. Even so, a lot
could have been excused if only the effects were passably convincing… they
weren’t. The CGI creation of this green glob of muscley crap doesn’t cut
it. And all I’m going to say is… mutant poodles???!!!
My dislike of this film
may be fostered by everyone else’s love for it. Sure it’s sincere but it’s
also linear to a fault and painfully contrived. Every moment in the film
seems preplanned. Every sentimental gesture seems formulated for maximum hankieage and the ending could have saved the film but… who am I kidding,
nothing could have saved Whale Rider from the shackles of
sentimental conventions. This film, along with Limp Seabzcuit,
may be the most overrated, criticly lauded films of the year. Watch em’
back-to-back and cringe so hard you’ll end up looking like Renée Zellweger
after a shot of Yager.
Would you look at that…
another lame Oscar contender made the list. Anthony Minghella’s Civil War
epic is many things, but compelling is not one of them. This is, however, a
tepid project built on the love of two characters whom I felt never A)
loved each other, B) belonged together and C) belonged in the same room let
alone movie with each other. Nicole Kidman and Jude Law are the star-cursed
lovers who are kept apart by war yet held together by love… yeah, yeah,
yeah, but one little caveat the ads won’t tell you is that the biggest
force that keeps these two apart is not war or distance but they’re utter
lack of personality. Picture how much worse Titanic would have been
if Jack and Rose only meet once and even then, never really seemed to care
about each other?
Also,
Cold Mountain
is a C I V I L W A R film that neglects to even allude to
W H Y the war
even exists. There are ZERO black characters and only fleeting
glimpses/references of those people called, um, what’s the name, oh yeah…
slaves! Blah! This is a romanticized South that’s just as blind to reality as Gone With the Wind was. The end result is a poorly
conceived historical film that, unlike Gone With the Wind, can’t
even fall back on the chemistry of the romantic leads to regain our sympathies.
Insufferable is probably the best word I could come up with.
A film so bad that, being a pseudo
film theorist, the only thing that grabbed my attention in this ugly
production is understanding WHY it ever got made and HOW it ever got
released. On the topic of Temptations badness, the only subject I
cared to consider is when it would end, when I would have my life back and
be away from this prefabricated feel-good wreck of a movie. Apathy seems to
be far less fun than utter distain and impassioned hatred so what does it
mean if I felt both while watching this film?
This film has taken every bad eighties cliché
and transmogrified it into this maxi pad thin story under the guise that
it’s about gospel music. Cuba Gooding Jr. plays a character that goes from
cold, urban city socialite status to a transformed man who has found god (a.k.a
Beyonce who can’t act to save her ass) and can never go back to his
soulless old ways because as he says: NY doesn’t make good, ouch, “fried
chicken.” The implication is that Cuba is an uncle tom for turning his back
on the sough and is a man that --how dare he-- would prefer to make money
than live in a place where creationism is blasphemy. In the film Cuba
gladly sells, ug, molt licker to “bumpkin” blacks, gets fired, goes back
home for a funeral, learns he can make money off his Aunt’s inheritance but
only if he, wha, takes the lowly gospel choir to the big competition (it
was even old when Sister Act did it) and along the way, meets a hot
yang thang and gets converted by the charming ways of south… I’m supposed
to, what, appreciate a character that goes form unlikable opportunist to a
lobotomized “fried chicken” eating twit? But here’s the thing. Being
insensitive, the outright racial stereotypes (black single mother, fried
chicken jokes, and white hicks) didn’t bother me much. The film’s quality
did. D-
One of the most tacky,
humorless, and misconceived films of the year. Is it realism, is it magical,
is it magical realism? No… it’s crap! William H Macy plays --get this—a
cosmically cursed slob who is so unlucky that an old school casino owner
(Alec Baldwin… the only good thing about the movie) hires him to “cool”
gambling patrons that are winning too much money. Huh? Am I missing
something? Even if I am, though, that premise, odd as it sounds, would be
serviceable except we never are allowed to see this unlucky character at
his worst. A film that could have worked but, no, the film is 100%
serious and as such fails to go for Pure Luck-esq bouts of slapstick
(which is the only thing it should be doing). Once this Cooler guy
meets the perfunctory hooker with the heart of gold (Maria Bello) he turns
into to the “luckiest” guy in the world, gets the casino mob boss angry
because everybody starts winning, which prompts his loser son to come into
town with that bad actress chick from Planet of the Apes…I’ll spare you the
rest except to say the film mercilessly takes it’s audience into a
strangely detached romantic melodrama that MAKES NO SENSE and is in no way
as “enchanting” or “magical” as it thinks it is.
I’m not sure if the
film is a parable for the new corporate Las Vegas or an elaborate
advertisement for astrology. D-
And finally… my new
rule: From
henceforth, any film that shows William H Macy’s nut-sack is bound by law
to be called one of the worst films of the year.
Why did I watch this film? Because I was forced to? Why? For it’s
historical significance? What historical significance? That "American Idol"
is a bafflingly popular, no better than karaoke show that, besides
“inspiring” countless inept records (fuck you Clay!!!), spawned this
abhorredly creepy musical? So why even attempt to base a fictional, beach
blanket musical on these two inhuman/ soulless/robotic singers? Because
someone, somewhere out there thought this film would make money. The film
does at least reaches a Glitter-esq status of appallingly bad musical
entertainment. So bad it’s funny. Don’t believe me. Okay then… you asked
for it. I’m going to quote the fucker:
--“We
are going to go to the best parties and meet the hottest guys. Uh-huh!!!”
--“My
idea of having a good time is hanging out with Kelly.”
--“I
guess betting on hover cars is not legal?” Cop shakes her head. HA, HA, HA.
That’s gold Jerry, gold.
--“And
you accuse me of being a playa. Well you the one playing games with me
Kelly. You know what? Game over.” Pathos, pathos piss heads.
|