R-rated pics had guns a-blazing last weekend, as Warner Bros. opened Jodie Foster's avenging-woman thriller The Brave One at No. 1 with $13.5 million, followed by Lionsgate's Western 3:10 to Yuma with $8.9 million.
Brave -- directed by Neil Jordan, produced by Joel Silver and co-financed by Warners and Village Roadshow -- did particularly well with older women despite its violent content. Yuma, starring Russell Crowe and Christian Bale, used a modest 35% drop in its second frame to forge a 10-day domestic cume of $28.3 million.
New Line's Billy Bob Thornton-toplined comedy Mr. Woodcock debuted with $8.8 million in third place, while Sony's Superbad finished fourth with $5.1 million in its fifth weekend for a $111.2 million cume. Freestyle/Younggu-Art's action fantasy Dragon Wars saw $5 million to open in fifth.
Industrywide, the weekend's top 10 films rung up $59.7 million in domestic boxoffice, according to Nielsen EDI. That represents a 6% uptick from top performers compared with the same weekend a year ago.
Among limited openings, David Cronenberg's well-reviewed Eastern Promises rung up a promising $547,092 from just 15 screens. Focus Features will use the film's buzz-building performance of $36,473 per screen to expand the thriller about the Russian mob in London to at least 1,350 runs Friday.
Brave -- directed by Neil Jordan, produced by Joel Silver and co-financed by Warners and Village Roadshow -- did particularly well with older women despite its violent content. Yuma, starring Russell Crowe and Christian Bale, used a modest 35% drop in its second frame to forge a 10-day domestic cume of $28.3 million.
New Line's Billy Bob Thornton-toplined comedy Mr. Woodcock debuted with $8.8 million in third place, while Sony's Superbad finished fourth with $5.1 million in its fifth weekend for a $111.2 million cume. Freestyle/Younggu-Art's action fantasy Dragon Wars saw $5 million to open in fifth.
Industrywide, the weekend's top 10 films rung up $59.7 million in domestic boxoffice, according to Nielsen EDI. That represents a 6% uptick from top performers compared with the same weekend a year ago.
Among limited openings, David Cronenberg's well-reviewed Eastern Promises rung up a promising $547,092 from just 15 screens. Focus Features will use the film's buzz-building performance of $36,473 per screen to expand the thriller about the Russian mob in London to at least 1,350 runs Friday.
- 9/18/2007
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
This review was written for the theatrical release of "Mr. Woodcock".As "Mr. Woodcock" demonstrates, a great premise can generate a lot of goodwill and almost overcome an uneven script. So too can expert performances, supplied here by Billy Bob Thornton and Seann William Scott as acrimonious competitors. This New Line Cinema release has enough laughs to generate moderate boxoffice business, but it doesn't break past the middling level.
Still, it definitely will touch a nerve with a lot of male viewers. To anyone who wasn't a jock, high school gym class was a special source of dread. This film taps right into those painful memories with its funny opening scene, when the tyrannical gym teacher, Mr. Woodcock (Thornton), runs roughshod over a bunch of uncoordinated geeks. One of them is chubby John Farley, who cowers when Woodcock singles him out for punishment.
Cut to 15 years later, and Farley (now played by Scott) is the author of a best-selling self-help book titled, "Letting Go: Getting Past Your Past." When he returns to his hometown in Nebraska, he is horrified to learn that his mother (Susan Sarandon) is having hot and heavy sex with his nemesis, Mr. Woodcock, and is engaged to marry him. Farley's initial encounters with his old tormentor suggest that Woodcock remains the same soft-spoken sadist, and Farley sets out to sabotage the wedding plans.
Given the nature of comedies about warring rivals, you know where the story is likely to end. It might have been more refreshing had Woodcock remained a monster from start to finish, but at least he doesn't go all soft and squishy. Thornton has been known to ham it up, but this is an understated, masterfully controlled performance. While he's the epitome of cool, Scott's Farley is the one who goes hysterical. Surprisingly, Scott's performance matches Thornton's; their verbal and physical duels keep us chuckling.
Sarandon, on the other hand, has a rather lackluster role that leaves her stranded. But some of the supporting players are vivid. Ethan Supplee is amusing as an old pal of Farley's who is still terrified of Woodcock's bullying. Amy Poehler's role as a bitchy book publicist is one-dimensional, but she brings a lot of flair to the stock jokes. Bill Macy has a juicy cameo as Mr. Woodcock's even more obnoxious father.
Director Craig Gillespie has another movie opening next month that screened this week at the Toronto International Film Festival, "Lars and the Real Girl", which is a somewhat quirkier comedy. The two movies establish him as a promising comedy director.
"Mr. Woodcock" benefits from a few hilarious sight gags. Technical credits are solid, and while the movie runs out of steam as it plods toward its predictable conclusion, at least it's mercifully short. This picture might not be a classic, but it's shrewd enough not to wear out its welcome.
MR. WOODCOCK
New Line Cinema
Avery Pix, Landscape Pictures
Credits:
Director:
Craig Gillespie
Screenwriters: Michael Carnes, Josh Gilbert
Producers: Bob Cooper, David Dobkin
Executive producers: Diana Pokorny, Toby Emmerich, Kent Alterman, Karen Lunder
Director of photography: Tami Reiker
Production designer: Alison Sadler
Music: Theodore Shapiro
Co-producer: Brian Inerfeld
Co-executive producers: Michele Weiss, Keith Goldberg
Costume designer: Wendy Chuck
Editors: Alan Baumgarten, Kevin Tent
Cast:
Mr. Woodcock: Billy Bob Thornton
John Farley: Seann William Scott
Beverly: Susan Sarandon
Maggie: Amy Poehler
Tracy: Melissa Sagemiller
Nedderman: Ethan Suplee
Nedderman's Brother: Jacob Davich
Young Farley: Kyley Baldridge
Young Nedderman: Alec George
Mr. Woodcock's Father: Bill Macy
Running time -- 87 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
Still, it definitely will touch a nerve with a lot of male viewers. To anyone who wasn't a jock, high school gym class was a special source of dread. This film taps right into those painful memories with its funny opening scene, when the tyrannical gym teacher, Mr. Woodcock (Thornton), runs roughshod over a bunch of uncoordinated geeks. One of them is chubby John Farley, who cowers when Woodcock singles him out for punishment.
Cut to 15 years later, and Farley (now played by Scott) is the author of a best-selling self-help book titled, "Letting Go: Getting Past Your Past." When he returns to his hometown in Nebraska, he is horrified to learn that his mother (Susan Sarandon) is having hot and heavy sex with his nemesis, Mr. Woodcock, and is engaged to marry him. Farley's initial encounters with his old tormentor suggest that Woodcock remains the same soft-spoken sadist, and Farley sets out to sabotage the wedding plans.
Given the nature of comedies about warring rivals, you know where the story is likely to end. It might have been more refreshing had Woodcock remained a monster from start to finish, but at least he doesn't go all soft and squishy. Thornton has been known to ham it up, but this is an understated, masterfully controlled performance. While he's the epitome of cool, Scott's Farley is the one who goes hysterical. Surprisingly, Scott's performance matches Thornton's; their verbal and physical duels keep us chuckling.
Sarandon, on the other hand, has a rather lackluster role that leaves her stranded. But some of the supporting players are vivid. Ethan Supplee is amusing as an old pal of Farley's who is still terrified of Woodcock's bullying. Amy Poehler's role as a bitchy book publicist is one-dimensional, but she brings a lot of flair to the stock jokes. Bill Macy has a juicy cameo as Mr. Woodcock's even more obnoxious father.
Director Craig Gillespie has another movie opening next month that screened this week at the Toronto International Film Festival, "Lars and the Real Girl", which is a somewhat quirkier comedy. The two movies establish him as a promising comedy director.
"Mr. Woodcock" benefits from a few hilarious sight gags. Technical credits are solid, and while the movie runs out of steam as it plods toward its predictable conclusion, at least it's mercifully short. This picture might not be a classic, but it's shrewd enough not to wear out its welcome.
MR. WOODCOCK
New Line Cinema
Avery Pix, Landscape Pictures
Credits:
Director:
Craig Gillespie
Screenwriters: Michael Carnes, Josh Gilbert
Producers: Bob Cooper, David Dobkin
Executive producers: Diana Pokorny, Toby Emmerich, Kent Alterman, Karen Lunder
Director of photography: Tami Reiker
Production designer: Alison Sadler
Music: Theodore Shapiro
Co-producer: Brian Inerfeld
Co-executive producers: Michele Weiss, Keith Goldberg
Costume designer: Wendy Chuck
Editors: Alan Baumgarten, Kevin Tent
Cast:
Mr. Woodcock: Billy Bob Thornton
John Farley: Seann William Scott
Beverly: Susan Sarandon
Maggie: Amy Poehler
Tracy: Melissa Sagemiller
Nedderman: Ethan Suplee
Nedderman's Brother: Jacob Davich
Young Farley: Kyley Baldridge
Young Nedderman: Alec George
Mr. Woodcock's Father: Bill Macy
Running time -- 87 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
- 9/14/2007
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
The animated Ashton Kutcher attracted more moviegoers than the live-action Ashton Kutcher this weekend at the North American boxoffice with Sony Pictures' Open Season outgrossing Buena Vista Pictures' The Guardian by more than $5 million. Both pictures delivered within expectations, lifting the overall boxoffice to its first up weekend in four weeks as compared to last year's track record. The top 12 films this weekend grossed an estimated $85 million for the three-day frame compared to last year's take of $75 million, for a year-on-year increase of more than 13%. The Weinstein Co. had less luck with its PG-13 rated comedy School for Scoundrels. The Billy Bob Thornton-starrer didn't earn much coin despite the comedic chops of Thornton, Napoleon Dynamite's Jon Heder and writer-director Todd Phillips (Old School.) The film, distributed by MGM, grossed an estimated $9.1 million and a fourth place in the rankings.
- 10/1/2006
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
The animated Ashton Kutcher attracted more moviegoers than the live-action Ashton Kutcher this weekend at the North American boxoffice with Sony Pictures' Open Season outgrossing Buena Vista Pictures' The Guardian by more than $5 million. Both pictures delivered within expectations, lifting the overall boxoffice to its first up weekend in four weeks as compared to last year's track record. The top 12 films this weekend grossed an estimated $85 million for the three-day frame compared to last year's take of $75 million, for a year-on-year increase of more than 13%. The Weinstein Co. had less luck with its PG-13 rated comedy School for Scoundrels. The Billy Bob Thornton-starrer didn't earn much coin despite the comedic chops of Thornton, Napoleon Dynamite's Jon Heder and writer-director Todd Phillips (Old School.) The film, distributed by MGM, grossed an estimated $9.1 million and a fourth place in the rankings.
- 10/1/2006
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Napoleon Dynamite goes mano a mano with Bad Santa (the characters, not the movies) in School for Scoundrels, an inert and muddled mash-up of romantic comedy and theater of stupid cruelty.
With its satirical underpinnings bludgeoned by shtick and formula, the story of a program that aims to turn milquetoasts into men founders for most of its running time. The film lacks both the outrageous humor and the heart that made a comedy like There's Something About Mary work. The casting -- one of its key problems -- might entice collegiate and twentysomething audiences before enrollment drops off precipitously.
Jon Heder plays Roger, a hapless employee of the New York City Parking Bureau who signs up for a mysterious Learning Annex offering after losing his meter-maid job and suffering his third rejection, at the hands of a kid, as a Big Brother. Needless to say, Roger has no luck with women, either; he's the kind of guy who faints while asking out his fetching and endlessly sweet Aussie neighbor, Amanda (Jacinda Barrett).
Roger joins a roomful of fellow doormats and gormless wonders who each cough up $5,000 in cash for the honor of being verbally abused by Dr. P Billy Bob Thornton). Along with his henchman, Lesher Michael Clarke Duncan), the bad doctor puts the desperate men through a series of confrontations that are meant to build spines but mostly are exercises in stupidity. At a paintball "retreat" in the woods -- the genesis of an unfortunate running "joke" involving rape -- Roger takes a stand against the mountainous Lesher and earns Dr. P's respect.
By distinguishing himself he also becomes a target of the teacher's special reserve of animosity. The game is on, as they say in the scoundrel biz, after Dr. P makes moves on Amanda. Posing as a bookish and sensitive widowed surgeon, he appeals to her compassion while the enraged and flailing Roger looks increasingly demented.
Director Todd Phillips and co-writer Scot Armstrong, who also collaborated on Road Trip, Old School and "Starsky & Hutch," have fashioned a listless affair. Working from the 1960 film "School for Scoundrels or How to Win Without Actually Cheating!" -- itself based on Stephen Potter's One-Upmanship and Lifemanship books -- the new script transposes midcentury British subtlety to new-millennium frat-boy yuks. A few slapstick bits work, but in these circumstances even Ben Stiller's inspired, late-in-the-proceedings appearance as a deeply damaged former student of Dr. P's is a nonstarter.
The casting is so obvious -- Heder as a nerd, Thornton as a wiseass, Sarah Silverman as Amanda's snide-bitch roommate -- that it drains the film of comic tension from the get-go. And for all its mean-spiritedness, School for Scoundrels has no edge, rushing to embrace tired romantic comedy conventions. Whatever it attempts, it does so with bluntness and little conviction. The New York/Los Angeles-shot production doesn't even try to create a convincing New York setting.
SCHOOL FOR SCOUNDRELS
MGM
Dimension Films presents a Picked Last/Media Talent Group production
Credits:
Director: Todd Phillips
Screenwriters: Todd Phillips, Scot Armstrong
Based on an original screenplay by: Hal E. Chester, Patricia Moyes
Producers: Todd Phillips, Daniel Goldberg, J. Geyer Kosinski
Executive producers: Bob Weinstein, Harvey Weinstein, Hal Chester, Craig Mazin
Director of photography: Jonathan Brown
Production designer: Nelson Coates
Music: Christophe Beck
Co-producers: JoAnn Perritano, Scott Budnick
Costume designer: Louise Mingenbach
Editors: Leslie Jones, Dan Schalk
Cast:
Dr. P: Billy Bob Thornton
Roger: Jon Heder
Amanda: Jacinda Barrett
Lesher: Michael Clarke Duncan
Walsh: Matt Walsh
Eli: Todd Louiso
Diego: Horatio Sanz
Ian: David Cross
Becky: Sarah Silverman
with Ben Stiller
Running time -- 101 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
With its satirical underpinnings bludgeoned by shtick and formula, the story of a program that aims to turn milquetoasts into men founders for most of its running time. The film lacks both the outrageous humor and the heart that made a comedy like There's Something About Mary work. The casting -- one of its key problems -- might entice collegiate and twentysomething audiences before enrollment drops off precipitously.
Jon Heder plays Roger, a hapless employee of the New York City Parking Bureau who signs up for a mysterious Learning Annex offering after losing his meter-maid job and suffering his third rejection, at the hands of a kid, as a Big Brother. Needless to say, Roger has no luck with women, either; he's the kind of guy who faints while asking out his fetching and endlessly sweet Aussie neighbor, Amanda (Jacinda Barrett).
Roger joins a roomful of fellow doormats and gormless wonders who each cough up $5,000 in cash for the honor of being verbally abused by Dr. P Billy Bob Thornton). Along with his henchman, Lesher Michael Clarke Duncan), the bad doctor puts the desperate men through a series of confrontations that are meant to build spines but mostly are exercises in stupidity. At a paintball "retreat" in the woods -- the genesis of an unfortunate running "joke" involving rape -- Roger takes a stand against the mountainous Lesher and earns Dr. P's respect.
By distinguishing himself he also becomes a target of the teacher's special reserve of animosity. The game is on, as they say in the scoundrel biz, after Dr. P makes moves on Amanda. Posing as a bookish and sensitive widowed surgeon, he appeals to her compassion while the enraged and flailing Roger looks increasingly demented.
Director Todd Phillips and co-writer Scot Armstrong, who also collaborated on Road Trip, Old School and "Starsky & Hutch," have fashioned a listless affair. Working from the 1960 film "School for Scoundrels or How to Win Without Actually Cheating!" -- itself based on Stephen Potter's One-Upmanship and Lifemanship books -- the new script transposes midcentury British subtlety to new-millennium frat-boy yuks. A few slapstick bits work, but in these circumstances even Ben Stiller's inspired, late-in-the-proceedings appearance as a deeply damaged former student of Dr. P's is a nonstarter.
The casting is so obvious -- Heder as a nerd, Thornton as a wiseass, Sarah Silverman as Amanda's snide-bitch roommate -- that it drains the film of comic tension from the get-go. And for all its mean-spiritedness, School for Scoundrels has no edge, rushing to embrace tired romantic comedy conventions. Whatever it attempts, it does so with bluntness and little conviction. The New York/Los Angeles-shot production doesn't even try to create a convincing New York setting.
SCHOOL FOR SCOUNDRELS
MGM
Dimension Films presents a Picked Last/Media Talent Group production
Credits:
Director: Todd Phillips
Screenwriters: Todd Phillips, Scot Armstrong
Based on an original screenplay by: Hal E. Chester, Patricia Moyes
Producers: Todd Phillips, Daniel Goldberg, J. Geyer Kosinski
Executive producers: Bob Weinstein, Harvey Weinstein, Hal Chester, Craig Mazin
Director of photography: Jonathan Brown
Production designer: Nelson Coates
Music: Christophe Beck
Co-producers: JoAnn Perritano, Scott Budnick
Costume designer: Louise Mingenbach
Editors: Leslie Jones, Dan Schalk
Cast:
Dr. P: Billy Bob Thornton
Roger: Jon Heder
Amanda: Jacinda Barrett
Lesher: Michael Clarke Duncan
Walsh: Matt Walsh
Eli: Todd Louiso
Diego: Horatio Sanz
Ian: David Cross
Becky: Sarah Silverman
with Ben Stiller
Running time -- 101 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
- 9/26/2006
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Austin Film Festival
AUSTIN -- Say what you will about recent "hard-R" comedies, few mainstream films in recent years can compete with "The Ice Harvest" for sheer sleaze. Set in a Wichita, Kan., underworld, the movie spends most of its time in dour strip clubs with such names as the Sweet Cage and Tease-O-Rama; every one of its characters is in the grip of one serious vice, if not a handful.
But where "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" and company had ample humor to carry viewers along, "Harvest" (despite coming from comedy vet Harold Ramis) has only a little -- not nearly enough to suggest that a wide audience will take to it. Unfortunately, it also isn't entirely convincing on its own nasty terms.
That's largely because the film never convinces us that its main characters really belong in this seamy world. Among the leads, only Randy Quaid is fully credible here: Bloated and bellicose, his viciously amoral character truly seems like a man who would have been a kingpin whatever his career path -- whether as a smut-peddler or as a Bible-thumping preacher bilking widows out of their savings.
But Quaid only arrives toward the film's end. Until then, we watch while John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton act out a familiar narrative as men who have stolen $2 million together and suddenly realize they can't trust each other. Their plan was to flee Wichita, but roads are iced over and the pair must go about their business until the morning thaw.
The night is longest for Cusack, who starts off tipsy and gets drunker the more he suspects he's holding the short end of the stick. Forced to contend with Thornton's possible betrayal, thugs on his tail and his ex-wife's husband (Oliver Platt, providing the most successful comic relief here), Cusack's Charlie Arglist really doesn't need another challenge. Enter Connie Nielsen's Renata, whose Veronica Lake hair and business-slutty wardrobe scream "femme fatale" even before cinematographer Alar Kivilo starts giving her those improbable shafts of light across the eyes so familiar from film noir.
Screenwriters Richard Russo and Robert Benton come close to capturing the sense of place they had in "Nobody's Fool", bouncing among the members of this small community as the night creeps toward dawn. But other elements undermine the illusion: The imprisoning effect of the weather (upon which the plot depends) doesn't come across in the film's look and feel; various threats to Arglist's well-being almost never add up to a visceral menace; and Ramis seems reluctant to nudge his leading man away from that familiar, sympathetic persona.
A little more "Grifters" would have gone far here. Not toward making the film palatable for the mainstream, perhaps, but at least toward selling its neo-noir story to an audience already inclined toward such seedy material.
THE ICE HARVEST
Focus Features
Focus Features/Bona Fide Prods.
Credits:
Director: Harold Ramis
Screenwriters: Richard Russo & Robert Benton
Based on the novel by: Scott Phillips
Producers: Albert Berger, Ron Yerxa
Executive producers: Richard Russo, Glenn Williamson
Director of photography: Alar Kivilo
Production designer: Patrizia von Brandenstein
Music: David Kitay
Co-producer: Thomas J. Busch
Costumes: Susan Kaufmann
Editor: Lee Percy
Cast:
Charlie Arglist: John Cusack
Vic: Billy Bob Thornton
Renata: Connie Nielsen
Bill Guerrard: Randy Quaid
Pete Van Heuten: Oliver Platt
MPAA rating R
Running time -- 90 minutes...
AUSTIN -- Say what you will about recent "hard-R" comedies, few mainstream films in recent years can compete with "The Ice Harvest" for sheer sleaze. Set in a Wichita, Kan., underworld, the movie spends most of its time in dour strip clubs with such names as the Sweet Cage and Tease-O-Rama; every one of its characters is in the grip of one serious vice, if not a handful.
But where "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" and company had ample humor to carry viewers along, "Harvest" (despite coming from comedy vet Harold Ramis) has only a little -- not nearly enough to suggest that a wide audience will take to it. Unfortunately, it also isn't entirely convincing on its own nasty terms.
That's largely because the film never convinces us that its main characters really belong in this seamy world. Among the leads, only Randy Quaid is fully credible here: Bloated and bellicose, his viciously amoral character truly seems like a man who would have been a kingpin whatever his career path -- whether as a smut-peddler or as a Bible-thumping preacher bilking widows out of their savings.
But Quaid only arrives toward the film's end. Until then, we watch while John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton act out a familiar narrative as men who have stolen $2 million together and suddenly realize they can't trust each other. Their plan was to flee Wichita, but roads are iced over and the pair must go about their business until the morning thaw.
The night is longest for Cusack, who starts off tipsy and gets drunker the more he suspects he's holding the short end of the stick. Forced to contend with Thornton's possible betrayal, thugs on his tail and his ex-wife's husband (Oliver Platt, providing the most successful comic relief here), Cusack's Charlie Arglist really doesn't need another challenge. Enter Connie Nielsen's Renata, whose Veronica Lake hair and business-slutty wardrobe scream "femme fatale" even before cinematographer Alar Kivilo starts giving her those improbable shafts of light across the eyes so familiar from film noir.
Screenwriters Richard Russo and Robert Benton come close to capturing the sense of place they had in "Nobody's Fool", bouncing among the members of this small community as the night creeps toward dawn. But other elements undermine the illusion: The imprisoning effect of the weather (upon which the plot depends) doesn't come across in the film's look and feel; various threats to Arglist's well-being almost never add up to a visceral menace; and Ramis seems reluctant to nudge his leading man away from that familiar, sympathetic persona.
A little more "Grifters" would have gone far here. Not toward making the film palatable for the mainstream, perhaps, but at least toward selling its neo-noir story to an audience already inclined toward such seedy material.
THE ICE HARVEST
Focus Features
Focus Features/Bona Fide Prods.
Credits:
Director: Harold Ramis
Screenwriters: Richard Russo & Robert Benton
Based on the novel by: Scott Phillips
Producers: Albert Berger, Ron Yerxa
Executive producers: Richard Russo, Glenn Williamson
Director of photography: Alar Kivilo
Production designer: Patrizia von Brandenstein
Music: David Kitay
Co-producer: Thomas J. Busch
Costumes: Susan Kaufmann
Editor: Lee Percy
Cast:
Charlie Arglist: John Cusack
Vic: Billy Bob Thornton
Renata: Connie Nielsen
Bill Guerrard: Randy Quaid
Pete Van Heuten: Oliver Platt
MPAA rating R
Running time -- 90 minutes...
- 11/4/2005
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Austin Film Festival
AUSTIN -- Say what you will about recent "hard-R" comedies, few mainstream films in recent years can compete with "The Ice Harvest" for sheer sleaze. Set in a Wichita, Kan., underworld, the movie spends most of its time in dour strip clubs with such names as the Sweet Cage and Tease-O-Rama; every one of its characters is in the grip of one serious vice, if not a handful.
But where "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" and company had ample humor to carry viewers along, "Harvest" (despite coming from comedy vet Harold Ramis) has only a little -- not nearly enough to suggest that a wide audience will take to it. Unfortunately, it also isn't entirely convincing on its own nasty terms.
That's largely because the film never convinces us that its main characters really belong in this seamy world. Among the leads, only Randy Quaid is fully credible here: Bloated and bellicose, his viciously amoral character truly seems like a man who would have been a kingpin whatever his career path -- whether as a smut-peddler or as a Bible-thumping preacher bilking widows out of their savings.
But Quaid only arrives toward the film's end. Until then, we watch while John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton act out a familiar narrative as men who have stolen $2 million together and suddenly realize they can't trust each other. Their plan was to flee Wichita, but roads are iced over and the pair must go about their business until the morning thaw.
The night is longest for Cusack, who starts off tipsy and gets drunker the more he suspects he's holding the short end of the stick. Forced to contend with Thornton's possible betrayal, thugs on his tail and his ex-wife's husband (Oliver Platt, providing the most successful comic relief here), Cusack's Charlie Arglist really doesn't need another challenge. Enter Connie Nielsen's Renata, whose Veronica Lake hair and business-slutty wardrobe scream "femme fatale" even before cinematographer Alar Kivilo starts giving her those improbable shafts of light across the eyes so familiar from film noir.
Screenwriters Richard Russo and Robert Benton come close to capturing the sense of place they had in "Nobody's Fool", bouncing among the members of this small community as the night creeps toward dawn. But other elements undermine the illusion: The imprisoning effect of the weather (upon which the plot depends) doesn't come across in the film's look and feel; various threats to Arglist's well-being almost never add up to a visceral menace; and Ramis seems reluctant to nudge his leading man away from that familiar, sympathetic persona.
A little more "Grifters" would have gone far here. Not toward making the film palatable for the mainstream, perhaps, but at least toward selling its neo-noir story to an audience already inclined toward such seedy material.
THE ICE HARVEST
Focus Features
Focus Features/Bona Fide Prods.
Credits:
Director: Harold Ramis
Screenwriters: Richard Russo & Robert Benton
Based on the novel by: Scott Phillips
Producers: Albert Berger, Ron Yerxa
Executive producers: Richard Russo, Glenn Williamson
Director of photography: Alar Kivilo
Production designer: Patrizia von Brandenstein
Music: David Kitay
Co-producer: Thomas J. Busch
Costumes: Susan Kaufmann
Editor: Lee Percy
Cast:
Charlie Arglist: John Cusack
Vic: Billy Bob Thornton
Renata: Connie Nielsen
Bill Guerrard: Randy Quaid
Pete Van Heuten: Oliver Platt
MPAA rating R
Running time -- 90 minutes...
AUSTIN -- Say what you will about recent "hard-R" comedies, few mainstream films in recent years can compete with "The Ice Harvest" for sheer sleaze. Set in a Wichita, Kan., underworld, the movie spends most of its time in dour strip clubs with such names as the Sweet Cage and Tease-O-Rama; every one of its characters is in the grip of one serious vice, if not a handful.
But where "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" and company had ample humor to carry viewers along, "Harvest" (despite coming from comedy vet Harold Ramis) has only a little -- not nearly enough to suggest that a wide audience will take to it. Unfortunately, it also isn't entirely convincing on its own nasty terms.
That's largely because the film never convinces us that its main characters really belong in this seamy world. Among the leads, only Randy Quaid is fully credible here: Bloated and bellicose, his viciously amoral character truly seems like a man who would have been a kingpin whatever his career path -- whether as a smut-peddler or as a Bible-thumping preacher bilking widows out of their savings.
But Quaid only arrives toward the film's end. Until then, we watch while John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton act out a familiar narrative as men who have stolen $2 million together and suddenly realize they can't trust each other. Their plan was to flee Wichita, but roads are iced over and the pair must go about their business until the morning thaw.
The night is longest for Cusack, who starts off tipsy and gets drunker the more he suspects he's holding the short end of the stick. Forced to contend with Thornton's possible betrayal, thugs on his tail and his ex-wife's husband (Oliver Platt, providing the most successful comic relief here), Cusack's Charlie Arglist really doesn't need another challenge. Enter Connie Nielsen's Renata, whose Veronica Lake hair and business-slutty wardrobe scream "femme fatale" even before cinematographer Alar Kivilo starts giving her those improbable shafts of light across the eyes so familiar from film noir.
Screenwriters Richard Russo and Robert Benton come close to capturing the sense of place they had in "Nobody's Fool", bouncing among the members of this small community as the night creeps toward dawn. But other elements undermine the illusion: The imprisoning effect of the weather (upon which the plot depends) doesn't come across in the film's look and feel; various threats to Arglist's well-being almost never add up to a visceral menace; and Ramis seems reluctant to nudge his leading man away from that familiar, sympathetic persona.
A little more "Grifters" would have gone far here. Not toward making the film palatable for the mainstream, perhaps, but at least toward selling its neo-noir story to an audience already inclined toward such seedy material.
THE ICE HARVEST
Focus Features
Focus Features/Bona Fide Prods.
Credits:
Director: Harold Ramis
Screenwriters: Richard Russo & Robert Benton
Based on the novel by: Scott Phillips
Producers: Albert Berger, Ron Yerxa
Executive producers: Richard Russo, Glenn Williamson
Director of photography: Alar Kivilo
Production designer: Patrizia von Brandenstein
Music: David Kitay
Co-producer: Thomas J. Busch
Costumes: Susan Kaufmann
Editor: Lee Percy
Cast:
Charlie Arglist: John Cusack
Vic: Billy Bob Thornton
Renata: Connie Nielsen
Bill Guerrard: Randy Quaid
Pete Van Heuten: Oliver Platt
MPAA rating R
Running time -- 90 minutes...
- 11/1/2005
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
There's good news and not-so-good news about "Bad News Bears", the new take on the beloved 1976 Michael Ritchie-helmed comedy starring Walter Matthau as a beer-soaked Little League coach who finds himself managing a ragtag team of foul-mouthed underachievers.
First, the good news: With Billy Bob Thornton and his "Bad Santa" writers on board and on-a-roll Richard Linklater (the critically acclaimed "Before Sunset" and the audience-acclaimed "School of Rock") calling the shots, there was sufficient cause for hope that the picture would emerge as something else than yet another pointless remake.
Fortunately, Thornton, playing an only slightly less caustic version of his ill-mannered department store Kris Kringle, remains in fine inappropriate form and Glenn Ficarra & John Requa's respectfully faithful script and Linklater's typically unforced directing style combine to generate many moments of laugh-out-loud comedy.
But somehow those moments never add up to a fully satisfying viewing experience. There's a momentum-killing, start/stop quality to the sequences that prevents this underdog story from rounding the bases and sprinting for home with the spirited energy of a Jack Black in "School of Rock".
Without that crowd-pleasing boost and with an assault of potty language that gives that PG-13 rating a run for its money (at the risk of shutting out the younger kids), the Paramount Pictures release likely will land more closely in the "Kicking & Screaming" ballpark rather than going "The Longest Yard" distance.
For those with a scorecard, the first "Bad News Bears" inspired a pair of inferior follow-ups -- 1977's "The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training" and 1978's "The Bad News Bears Go to Japan" -- neither of which featured Matthau or were directed by Ritchie.
The new version is definitely better than the two sequels, with Thornton bringing his own curmudgeonly irreverent spin to the role of Coach Buttermaker, here a former pro baseball player-turned-exterminator who spent all of a couple of innings in a big league game.
Coaxed into taking on the hopelessly inept team of misfits by a high-maintenance attorney with her own agenda Marcia Gay Harden), Buttermaker makes a half-hearted go of it, occasionally locking horns with Ray Bullock (Greg Kinnear), the self-satisfied coach of the Bears' longtime rivals, the Yankees.
Aside from injecting some of that meaner-spirited, but admittedly funny "Bad Santa Jr". dialogue, writers Ficarra and Requa stick very close to the original Bill Lancaster script, while adding a few characters who better reflect the contemporary cultural landscape.
Joining the brat and the nerd and the angry fat guy, there's now an Armenian, a kid in an electric wheelchair and a Mark McGwire-smitten black kid, and, true to its comic roots, the movie proves to be an equal-opportunity offender.
But Buttermaker's lackadaisical approach to life seems to have rubbed off on Linklater's direction, which really could have a shot of adrenaline to move things along, particularly in the late innings.
Given that a number of the young newcomers were cast first for their athletic ability over previous acting experience, the juvenile performances are pretty uneven, especially when held up to the original's lineup led by Tatum O'Neal and Jackie Earle Haley.
Behind the scenes, taking a cue from the '76 version, composer Edward Shearmur uses Bizet's "Carmen" to underscore the game sequences, but somehow what came across as inspired three decades ago just feels odd and rather out of place today.
Bad News Bears
Paramount Pictures
Paramount Pictures presents
a Media Talent Group production
in association with Detour Filmproduction
A Richard Linklater film
Director: Richard Linklater
Screenwriters: Bill Lancaster and Glenn Ficarra & John Requa
Based on "The Bad News Bears" written by: Bill Lancaster
Producers: J. Geyer Kosinski, Richard Linklater
Executive producer: Marcus Viscidi
Director of photography: Rogier Stoffers
Production designer: Bruce Curtis
Editor: Sandra Adair
Costume designer: Karen Patch
Music: Edward Shearmur
Cast:
Coach Morris Buttermaker: Billy Bob Thornton
Coach Roy Bullock: Greg Kinnear
Liz Whitewood: Marcia Gay Harden
Amanda Whurlitzer: Sammi Kane Kraft
Kelly Leak: Jeffrey Davies
Tanner Boyle: Timmy Deters
Mike Engelberg: Brandon Craggs
Toby Whitewood: Ridge Canipe
Timmy Lupus: Tyler Patrick Jones
Prem Lahiri: Aman Johal
Matthew Hooper: Troy Gentile
Garo Daragebrigadian: Jeffrey Tedmori
Ahmad Abdul Rahim: Kenneth "K.C". Harris
Miguel Agilar: Carlos Estrada
Jose Agilar: Emmanuel Estrada
MPAA rating: PG-13
Running time -- 114 minutes...
First, the good news: With Billy Bob Thornton and his "Bad Santa" writers on board and on-a-roll Richard Linklater (the critically acclaimed "Before Sunset" and the audience-acclaimed "School of Rock") calling the shots, there was sufficient cause for hope that the picture would emerge as something else than yet another pointless remake.
Fortunately, Thornton, playing an only slightly less caustic version of his ill-mannered department store Kris Kringle, remains in fine inappropriate form and Glenn Ficarra & John Requa's respectfully faithful script and Linklater's typically unforced directing style combine to generate many moments of laugh-out-loud comedy.
But somehow those moments never add up to a fully satisfying viewing experience. There's a momentum-killing, start/stop quality to the sequences that prevents this underdog story from rounding the bases and sprinting for home with the spirited energy of a Jack Black in "School of Rock".
Without that crowd-pleasing boost and with an assault of potty language that gives that PG-13 rating a run for its money (at the risk of shutting out the younger kids), the Paramount Pictures release likely will land more closely in the "Kicking & Screaming" ballpark rather than going "The Longest Yard" distance.
For those with a scorecard, the first "Bad News Bears" inspired a pair of inferior follow-ups -- 1977's "The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training" and 1978's "The Bad News Bears Go to Japan" -- neither of which featured Matthau or were directed by Ritchie.
The new version is definitely better than the two sequels, with Thornton bringing his own curmudgeonly irreverent spin to the role of Coach Buttermaker, here a former pro baseball player-turned-exterminator who spent all of a couple of innings in a big league game.
Coaxed into taking on the hopelessly inept team of misfits by a high-maintenance attorney with her own agenda Marcia Gay Harden), Buttermaker makes a half-hearted go of it, occasionally locking horns with Ray Bullock (Greg Kinnear), the self-satisfied coach of the Bears' longtime rivals, the Yankees.
Aside from injecting some of that meaner-spirited, but admittedly funny "Bad Santa Jr". dialogue, writers Ficarra and Requa stick very close to the original Bill Lancaster script, while adding a few characters who better reflect the contemporary cultural landscape.
Joining the brat and the nerd and the angry fat guy, there's now an Armenian, a kid in an electric wheelchair and a Mark McGwire-smitten black kid, and, true to its comic roots, the movie proves to be an equal-opportunity offender.
But Buttermaker's lackadaisical approach to life seems to have rubbed off on Linklater's direction, which really could have a shot of adrenaline to move things along, particularly in the late innings.
Given that a number of the young newcomers were cast first for their athletic ability over previous acting experience, the juvenile performances are pretty uneven, especially when held up to the original's lineup led by Tatum O'Neal and Jackie Earle Haley.
Behind the scenes, taking a cue from the '76 version, composer Edward Shearmur uses Bizet's "Carmen" to underscore the game sequences, but somehow what came across as inspired three decades ago just feels odd and rather out of place today.
Bad News Bears
Paramount Pictures
Paramount Pictures presents
a Media Talent Group production
in association with Detour Filmproduction
A Richard Linklater film
Director: Richard Linklater
Screenwriters: Bill Lancaster and Glenn Ficarra & John Requa
Based on "The Bad News Bears" written by: Bill Lancaster
Producers: J. Geyer Kosinski, Richard Linklater
Executive producer: Marcus Viscidi
Director of photography: Rogier Stoffers
Production designer: Bruce Curtis
Editor: Sandra Adair
Costume designer: Karen Patch
Music: Edward Shearmur
Cast:
Coach Morris Buttermaker: Billy Bob Thornton
Coach Roy Bullock: Greg Kinnear
Liz Whitewood: Marcia Gay Harden
Amanda Whurlitzer: Sammi Kane Kraft
Kelly Leak: Jeffrey Davies
Tanner Boyle: Timmy Deters
Mike Engelberg: Brandon Craggs
Toby Whitewood: Ridge Canipe
Timmy Lupus: Tyler Patrick Jones
Prem Lahiri: Aman Johal
Matthew Hooper: Troy Gentile
Garo Daragebrigadian: Jeffrey Tedmori
Ahmad Abdul Rahim: Kenneth "K.C". Harris
Miguel Agilar: Carlos Estrada
Jose Agilar: Emmanuel Estrada
MPAA rating: PG-13
Running time -- 114 minutes...
- 8/11/2005
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Opens
April 9
The makers of "The Alamo", the new movie based on the legendary defense and fall of the Texas compound, want to wrestle this piece of American history from the ranks of jingoism and patriotic fervor. They enjoy partial success, but this results in an epic that sometimes stalls in static, talky sequences that try to situate the heroic feat in the cross-currents of history and sort out an array of colorful characters whose bios must be divorced from legend.
"The Alamo", directed by native Texan John Lee Hancock, making only his second feature, is a respectable and at times an exciting film that should appeal to males of all ages, history buffs and -- yes, it's inevitable -- patriots. But even that might be too narrow a demographic for a film whose budget insiders peg at $98 million. Over time and around the world, the film should generate profits, but the guess here is that it will fall short of the blockbuster status originally envisioned when Disney greenlighted the film.
Produced by Oscar-winners Mark Johnson and Ron Howard (who bowed out as director when the studio reportedly balked at his fee), "The Alamo" is a beautifully mounted historical re-creation. One senses authenticity in the costumes, sets, snatches of period music, military strategy and character sketches. Indeed, the first 40 minutes swims in political history and larger-than-life personalities to such a degree that the movie risks confusing general audiences not up on the American scene circa 1835-36. Eventually, the characters and their positions grow clearer as the centerpiece showdown draws nearer, but the movie clearly struggles to decide which -- and whose -- story to tell.
Several superstars of the 1830s are brought together for the battle. Most notable are Tennessee mountain man and furious self-promoter Davy Crockett Billy Bob Thornton), great knife-fighter and shady militiaman James Bowie (Jason Patric), nation-building Gen. Sam Houston (Dennis Quaid), Mexican dictator Gen. Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna (Emilio Echevarria) and the one person perhaps made famous by the event itself, Lt. Col. William Travis (Patrick Wilson), a young Alabama officer and lawyer whom chance made temporary commander of the old mission turned into a fort known as the Alamo.
The script, written by Leslie Bohem, Stephen Gaghan and Hancock adds other characters such as Juan Seguin (Jordi Molla), a sympathetic Mexican, or Tejano, to demonstrate that the siege wasn't simply Latinos vs. Anglos, two black slaves (Edwin Hodge and Afemo Omilami) to represent that point of view and a couple of peripheral women.
The confusion of the opening scenes gives way to an intense stalemate as 2,400-odd Mexican soldiers surround a poorly designed fortress holding fewer than 200 rebels and -- its one attribute -- several powerful cannons. As the men sweat out the remaining days of their lives, Hancock also wants to sweat out their true selves.
Crockett comes off as a showman and master of the grand gesture, who admits to being a creation of 19th century media. Easily the movie's most fully drawn character, Thornton's role straddles the wide gap between the Disney television version of Crockett and the political opportunist who is shocked but amused to realize his ultimate demise will actually substantiate much that is his legend.
Patric's Bowie enters the Alamo a seemingly healthy man but swiftly takes to his bed, a victim not only of consumption but too many near-fatal wounds from his fighting past. Initially a rival of Bowie, Wilson's Travis grows in moral resolve and confidence as the 13-day siege wears on. Quaid's Houston gets sidelined by the movie's understandable focus on the Alamo. Raising and training an army in another part of Texas, Quaid can do little more than furrow his brow until redeemed by his strategy to lure the egomaniacal Santa Anna to his downfall following the triumph at the Alamo. Echevarria's Mexican general is an all-too-conventional villain, a vainglorious popinjay consumed by sensual desires during the siege and contemptuous of his own men's lives.
The movie shows signs of postproduction stress syndrome with key characters getting short shift, others drifting through without much introduction and situations emerging without explanation, the most notable being at the climatic battle of San Jacinto, where Santa Anna, fully dressed one minute, is seen running in underwear.
By default, Crockett dominates the movie until his demise, then somewhat disconcertingly, Houston, portrayed chiefly as a drunk until the siege, draws the focus. Mostly, the movie lacks the moments or gestures that will cement relationships and galvanize audience emotions. You will remember this "Alamo", but the sum and substance of conflict remains a little sketchy.
Under Hancock's command, cinematographer Dean Semler helps you understand the spatial relationships inside and outside the fortress, designer Michael Corenblith achieves the true grit of the forlorn compound and editor Eric L. Beason performs the Herculean task of giving movement to a static situation. Carter Birwell's score is serviceable though conventional.
THE ALAMO
Buena Vista Pictures
Touchstone Pictures/Imagine Entertainment
Credits:
Director: John Lee Hancock
Screenwriters: Leslie Bohem, Stephen Gaghan, John Lee Hancock
Producers: Mark Johnson, Ron Howard
Executive producers: Todd Hallowell, Philip Steuer
Director of photography: Dean Semler
Production designer: Michael Corenblith
Music: Carter Birwell
Costume designer: Daniel Orlandi
Editor: Eric L. Beason
Cast: Sam Houston: Dennis Quaid
Davy Crockett: Billy Bob Thornton
Jim Bowie: Jason Patric
William Travis: Patrick Wilson
Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna: Emilio Echevarria
Juan Seguin: Jordi Molla
Running time -- 137 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
April 9
The makers of "The Alamo", the new movie based on the legendary defense and fall of the Texas compound, want to wrestle this piece of American history from the ranks of jingoism and patriotic fervor. They enjoy partial success, but this results in an epic that sometimes stalls in static, talky sequences that try to situate the heroic feat in the cross-currents of history and sort out an array of colorful characters whose bios must be divorced from legend.
"The Alamo", directed by native Texan John Lee Hancock, making only his second feature, is a respectable and at times an exciting film that should appeal to males of all ages, history buffs and -- yes, it's inevitable -- patriots. But even that might be too narrow a demographic for a film whose budget insiders peg at $98 million. Over time and around the world, the film should generate profits, but the guess here is that it will fall short of the blockbuster status originally envisioned when Disney greenlighted the film.
Produced by Oscar-winners Mark Johnson and Ron Howard (who bowed out as director when the studio reportedly balked at his fee), "The Alamo" is a beautifully mounted historical re-creation. One senses authenticity in the costumes, sets, snatches of period music, military strategy and character sketches. Indeed, the first 40 minutes swims in political history and larger-than-life personalities to such a degree that the movie risks confusing general audiences not up on the American scene circa 1835-36. Eventually, the characters and their positions grow clearer as the centerpiece showdown draws nearer, but the movie clearly struggles to decide which -- and whose -- story to tell.
Several superstars of the 1830s are brought together for the battle. Most notable are Tennessee mountain man and furious self-promoter Davy Crockett Billy Bob Thornton), great knife-fighter and shady militiaman James Bowie (Jason Patric), nation-building Gen. Sam Houston (Dennis Quaid), Mexican dictator Gen. Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna (Emilio Echevarria) and the one person perhaps made famous by the event itself, Lt. Col. William Travis (Patrick Wilson), a young Alabama officer and lawyer whom chance made temporary commander of the old mission turned into a fort known as the Alamo.
The script, written by Leslie Bohem, Stephen Gaghan and Hancock adds other characters such as Juan Seguin (Jordi Molla), a sympathetic Mexican, or Tejano, to demonstrate that the siege wasn't simply Latinos vs. Anglos, two black slaves (Edwin Hodge and Afemo Omilami) to represent that point of view and a couple of peripheral women.
The confusion of the opening scenes gives way to an intense stalemate as 2,400-odd Mexican soldiers surround a poorly designed fortress holding fewer than 200 rebels and -- its one attribute -- several powerful cannons. As the men sweat out the remaining days of their lives, Hancock also wants to sweat out their true selves.
Crockett comes off as a showman and master of the grand gesture, who admits to being a creation of 19th century media. Easily the movie's most fully drawn character, Thornton's role straddles the wide gap between the Disney television version of Crockett and the political opportunist who is shocked but amused to realize his ultimate demise will actually substantiate much that is his legend.
Patric's Bowie enters the Alamo a seemingly healthy man but swiftly takes to his bed, a victim not only of consumption but too many near-fatal wounds from his fighting past. Initially a rival of Bowie, Wilson's Travis grows in moral resolve and confidence as the 13-day siege wears on. Quaid's Houston gets sidelined by the movie's understandable focus on the Alamo. Raising and training an army in another part of Texas, Quaid can do little more than furrow his brow until redeemed by his strategy to lure the egomaniacal Santa Anna to his downfall following the triumph at the Alamo. Echevarria's Mexican general is an all-too-conventional villain, a vainglorious popinjay consumed by sensual desires during the siege and contemptuous of his own men's lives.
The movie shows signs of postproduction stress syndrome with key characters getting short shift, others drifting through without much introduction and situations emerging without explanation, the most notable being at the climatic battle of San Jacinto, where Santa Anna, fully dressed one minute, is seen running in underwear.
By default, Crockett dominates the movie until his demise, then somewhat disconcertingly, Houston, portrayed chiefly as a drunk until the siege, draws the focus. Mostly, the movie lacks the moments or gestures that will cement relationships and galvanize audience emotions. You will remember this "Alamo", but the sum and substance of conflict remains a little sketchy.
Under Hancock's command, cinematographer Dean Semler helps you understand the spatial relationships inside and outside the fortress, designer Michael Corenblith achieves the true grit of the forlorn compound and editor Eric L. Beason performs the Herculean task of giving movement to a static situation. Carter Birwell's score is serviceable though conventional.
THE ALAMO
Buena Vista Pictures
Touchstone Pictures/Imagine Entertainment
Credits:
Director: John Lee Hancock
Screenwriters: Leslie Bohem, Stephen Gaghan, John Lee Hancock
Producers: Mark Johnson, Ron Howard
Executive producers: Todd Hallowell, Philip Steuer
Director of photography: Dean Semler
Production designer: Michael Corenblith
Music: Carter Birwell
Costume designer: Daniel Orlandi
Editor: Eric L. Beason
Cast: Sam Houston: Dennis Quaid
Davy Crockett: Billy Bob Thornton
Jim Bowie: Jason Patric
William Travis: Patrick Wilson
Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna: Emilio Echevarria
Juan Seguin: Jordi Molla
Running time -- 137 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
Sundance Film Festival
PARK CITY -- Billy Bob and Harry Dean way down in the Ozarks -- you don't get further off the beaten path of regional story with Messrs. Thornton and Stanton fightin' and pickin' down in the swampland. And deep amid the swampy vines and crazed hounds, there's a big story snaking through the hills. Joe (Thornton) has wandered back to his home after 20 years in the pen for assorted things, mainly involving matters with the DEA, and he's looking to set things right. Well, he's not quite sure about that.
A Sundance favorite with its backroad twangs, "Chrystal" is likely to shine among indie-film viewers. Gurgling with the primeval fluids of survival, "Chrystal" is a way-off-the beaten-path yarn. Like the piercing cry of a steel guitar, it cradles its way into areas that folks have always struggled in -- whether in a prophet's robe, con's garb or a suit and tie.
Joe is haunted by what happened the night he landed in jail. He drove his wife, Chrystal (Lisa Blount), and young child off the road while being pursued by the law. The baby died and, in a sense, his wife did, too. For the duration of his absence, she has languished in near catatonia, taking lovers and barely subsisting in a backwoods shack. When Joe returns, he tries to make things right
his wife's malaise deepens his anguish, and he clearly sees the ill fruits of his prior actions.
A grand story of redemption, laced with barbecued wit and slopped with intrigue, "Chrystal" is a high heaping of brilliant storytelling. Filmmaker Ray McKinnon, who also co-stars as a verminlike yahoo, has plucked out a grand tale from the deep, with rich chords of human turmoil. "Chrystal" is, beneath its mucky layers, a wonderfully crafted tale of good vs. evil, told in the dirty mud of man's essence.
Subdued and determined, Thornton is terrific as the determined, justice-dispensing Joe. Blount's performance as his depressed, sliding wife is rife with sadness and decent spirits, while McKinnon is redneck evil incarnate. Stanton's gnarly grace and down-home manner is a welcome garnish.
Under McKinnon's hard-strumming directorial hand, the technical team lays out a teeming tale: Stephen Trask's dirt 'n' hurt score, layered back by music supervisor Don Fleming's sounds, ring out with piles of lowlife wisdom.
Chrystal
Ginny Mule Pictures
Credits: Screenwriter-director: Ray McKinnon
Producers: Lisa Blount, Walton Goggins, Ray McKinnon, Bruce Heller, David Koplan
Executive producer: Peter E. Strauss
Co-producer: Anthony Katagas
Director of photography: Adam Kimmel
Editor: Myron Kerstein
Production designer: Chris Jones
Art director: David Hedge
Costume designer: Kelli Jones
Music supervisor: Don Fleming
Composer: Stephen Trask
Casting: Emily Schweber
Cast:
Joe: Billy Bob Thornton
Chrystal: Lisa Blount
Snake: Ray McKinnon
Kalid: Harry Lennix
Larry: Walton Goggins
Gladys: Grace Zabriskie
Barry: Johnny Galecki
Hog: Colin Fickes
Shorty: Max Kasch
Charlie Cato: James Intveld
Miss Mabel: Kathryn Howell
Pa Da: Harry Dean Stanton
Running time -- 120 minutes
No MPAA rating...
PARK CITY -- Billy Bob and Harry Dean way down in the Ozarks -- you don't get further off the beaten path of regional story with Messrs. Thornton and Stanton fightin' and pickin' down in the swampland. And deep amid the swampy vines and crazed hounds, there's a big story snaking through the hills. Joe (Thornton) has wandered back to his home after 20 years in the pen for assorted things, mainly involving matters with the DEA, and he's looking to set things right. Well, he's not quite sure about that.
A Sundance favorite with its backroad twangs, "Chrystal" is likely to shine among indie-film viewers. Gurgling with the primeval fluids of survival, "Chrystal" is a way-off-the beaten-path yarn. Like the piercing cry of a steel guitar, it cradles its way into areas that folks have always struggled in -- whether in a prophet's robe, con's garb or a suit and tie.
Joe is haunted by what happened the night he landed in jail. He drove his wife, Chrystal (Lisa Blount), and young child off the road while being pursued by the law. The baby died and, in a sense, his wife did, too. For the duration of his absence, she has languished in near catatonia, taking lovers and barely subsisting in a backwoods shack. When Joe returns, he tries to make things right
his wife's malaise deepens his anguish, and he clearly sees the ill fruits of his prior actions.
A grand story of redemption, laced with barbecued wit and slopped with intrigue, "Chrystal" is a high heaping of brilliant storytelling. Filmmaker Ray McKinnon, who also co-stars as a verminlike yahoo, has plucked out a grand tale from the deep, with rich chords of human turmoil. "Chrystal" is, beneath its mucky layers, a wonderfully crafted tale of good vs. evil, told in the dirty mud of man's essence.
Subdued and determined, Thornton is terrific as the determined, justice-dispensing Joe. Blount's performance as his depressed, sliding wife is rife with sadness and decent spirits, while McKinnon is redneck evil incarnate. Stanton's gnarly grace and down-home manner is a welcome garnish.
Under McKinnon's hard-strumming directorial hand, the technical team lays out a teeming tale: Stephen Trask's dirt 'n' hurt score, layered back by music supervisor Don Fleming's sounds, ring out with piles of lowlife wisdom.
Chrystal
Ginny Mule Pictures
Credits: Screenwriter-director: Ray McKinnon
Producers: Lisa Blount, Walton Goggins, Ray McKinnon, Bruce Heller, David Koplan
Executive producer: Peter E. Strauss
Co-producer: Anthony Katagas
Director of photography: Adam Kimmel
Editor: Myron Kerstein
Production designer: Chris Jones
Art director: David Hedge
Costume designer: Kelli Jones
Music supervisor: Don Fleming
Composer: Stephen Trask
Casting: Emily Schweber
Cast:
Joe: Billy Bob Thornton
Chrystal: Lisa Blount
Snake: Ray McKinnon
Kalid: Harry Lennix
Larry: Walton Goggins
Gladys: Grace Zabriskie
Barry: Johnny Galecki
Hog: Colin Fickes
Shorty: Max Kasch
Charlie Cato: James Intveld
Miss Mabel: Kathryn Howell
Pa Da: Harry Dean Stanton
Running time -- 120 minutes
No MPAA rating...
Having impressively proved himself a capable actor, country singer-songwriter Dwight Yoakam adds director-screenwriter-producer-composer to his resume, and the resulting "South of Heaven, West of Hell" would suggest a case of wearing at least one Stetson too many.
A subversive Gothic western starring Yoakam and a bunch of his Hollywood buddies, the picture, which actually is much closer to hell than its directions would imply, is an interminable, annoying mess of fractured cowboy-movie cliches.
Although Yoakam and co-screenwriter Stan Bertheaud must have had a hoot cramming in all the frat boy perversity -- castration, rape, incest and pedophilia rank high on its top 10 list -- it all comes across as the kind of indulgence that gives vanity projects a bad name.
Yoakam has cast himself as Valentine Casey, a marshal with an uncertain past who finds himself biding time in some kind of existential purgatory resembling a desolate New Mexico town called Los Tragos.
Part of that past resurfaces when the murderous, inbred Henry Gang, presided over by Bible-thumping Leland (Luke Askew), rides into town. Apparently way back when, after Val's own family died during an influenza outbreak, Leland raised Val as his own. Now Leland and his boys, including Vince Vaughn and Paul Reubens, have returned with larceny on their minds. Though Val sticks to his guns, the Henry Gang proceeds to slaughter everything around him that tries to block their path to the bank vault.
Cut to nine months later, where we find Val in the Arizona desert breaking wild horses and meeting up with Adalyne Dunfries (Bridget Fonda), the daughter of the local hotel and saloon owner who has returned to town accompanied by the odd Brigadier Smalls Billy Bob Thornton with long golden hair).
Just when it looks like Val and Adalyne are about to have a thing going, who else but the Henry Gang comes in and gums up the works, precipitating a protracted fight to the finish.
While Yoakam underplays his part to the point of catatonia, the rest of his cast, also including Bud Cort, Peter Fonda and Michael Jeter, go in the opposite direction in some kind of contest to determine who can be the most irritating. Jeter's the clear winner as the screeching Uncle Jude.
To his credit, director of photography James Glennon ("El Norte", "Election") mines plenty of atmospheric value for the low-budget buck, but there ain't enough purdy sunsets in the world to compensate for this long-winded, one-trick pony of a home movie.
SOUTH OF HEAVEN, WEST OF HELL
Trimark
Director: Dwight Yoakam
Producers: Gray Frederickson, Darris Hatch
Screenwriters: Dwight Yoakam, Stan Bertheaud
Story: Dwight Yoakam, Dennis Hackin, Otto Felix
Director of photography: James Glennon
Production designer: Siobhan Roome
Editor: Robert Ferretti
Costume designer: Le Dawson
Music: Dwight Yoakam
Color/stereo
Cast:
Valentine Casey: Dwight Yoakam
Taylor: Vince Vaughn
Brigadier Smalls: Billy Bob Thornton
Adalyne Dunfries: Bridget Fonda
Shoshonee Bill: Peter Fonda
Arvid: Paul Reubens
Agent Otts: Bud Cort
Doc Angus Dunfries: Bo Hopkins
Leland: Luke Askew
Uncle Jude: Michael Jeter
Running time -- 131 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
A subversive Gothic western starring Yoakam and a bunch of his Hollywood buddies, the picture, which actually is much closer to hell than its directions would imply, is an interminable, annoying mess of fractured cowboy-movie cliches.
Although Yoakam and co-screenwriter Stan Bertheaud must have had a hoot cramming in all the frat boy perversity -- castration, rape, incest and pedophilia rank high on its top 10 list -- it all comes across as the kind of indulgence that gives vanity projects a bad name.
Yoakam has cast himself as Valentine Casey, a marshal with an uncertain past who finds himself biding time in some kind of existential purgatory resembling a desolate New Mexico town called Los Tragos.
Part of that past resurfaces when the murderous, inbred Henry Gang, presided over by Bible-thumping Leland (Luke Askew), rides into town. Apparently way back when, after Val's own family died during an influenza outbreak, Leland raised Val as his own. Now Leland and his boys, including Vince Vaughn and Paul Reubens, have returned with larceny on their minds. Though Val sticks to his guns, the Henry Gang proceeds to slaughter everything around him that tries to block their path to the bank vault.
Cut to nine months later, where we find Val in the Arizona desert breaking wild horses and meeting up with Adalyne Dunfries (Bridget Fonda), the daughter of the local hotel and saloon owner who has returned to town accompanied by the odd Brigadier Smalls Billy Bob Thornton with long golden hair).
Just when it looks like Val and Adalyne are about to have a thing going, who else but the Henry Gang comes in and gums up the works, precipitating a protracted fight to the finish.
While Yoakam underplays his part to the point of catatonia, the rest of his cast, also including Bud Cort, Peter Fonda and Michael Jeter, go in the opposite direction in some kind of contest to determine who can be the most irritating. Jeter's the clear winner as the screeching Uncle Jude.
To his credit, director of photography James Glennon ("El Norte", "Election") mines plenty of atmospheric value for the low-budget buck, but there ain't enough purdy sunsets in the world to compensate for this long-winded, one-trick pony of a home movie.
SOUTH OF HEAVEN, WEST OF HELL
Trimark
Director: Dwight Yoakam
Producers: Gray Frederickson, Darris Hatch
Screenwriters: Dwight Yoakam, Stan Bertheaud
Story: Dwight Yoakam, Dennis Hackin, Otto Felix
Director of photography: James Glennon
Production designer: Siobhan Roome
Editor: Robert Ferretti
Costume designer: Le Dawson
Music: Dwight Yoakam
Color/stereo
Cast:
Valentine Casey: Dwight Yoakam
Taylor: Vince Vaughn
Brigadier Smalls: Billy Bob Thornton
Adalyne Dunfries: Bridget Fonda
Shoshonee Bill: Peter Fonda
Arvid: Paul Reubens
Agent Otts: Bud Cort
Doc Angus Dunfries: Bo Hopkins
Leland: Luke Askew
Uncle Jude: Michael Jeter
Running time -- 131 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
Having impressively proved himself a capable actor, country singer-songwriter Dwight Yoakam adds director-screenwriter-producer-composer to his resume, and the resulting "South of Heaven, West of Hell" would suggest a case of wearing at least one Stetson too many.
A subversive Gothic western starring Yoakam and a bunch of his Hollywood buddies, the picture, which actually is much closer to hell than its directions would imply, is an interminable, annoying mess of fractured cowboy-movie cliches.
Although Yoakam and co-screenwriter Stan Bertheaud must have had a hoot cramming in all the frat boy perversity -- castration, rape, incest and pedophilia rank high on its top 10 list -- it all comes across as the kind of indulgence that gives vanity projects a bad name.
Yoakam has cast himself as Valentine Casey, a marshal with an uncertain past who finds himself biding time in some kind of existential purgatory resembling a desolate New Mexico town called Los Tragos.
Part of that past resurfaces when the murderous, inbred Henry Gang, presided over by Bible-thumping Leland (Luke Askew), rides into town. Apparently way back when, after Val's own family died during an influenza outbreak, Leland raised Val as his own. Now Leland and his boys, including Vince Vaughn and Paul Reubens, have returned with larceny on their minds. Though Val sticks to his guns, the Henry Gang proceeds to slaughter everything around him that tries to block their path to the bank vault.
Cut to nine months later, where we find Val in the Arizona desert breaking wild horses and meeting up with Adalyne Dunfries (Bridget Fonda), the daughter of the local hotel and saloon owner who has returned to town accompanied by the odd Brigadier Smalls Billy Bob Thornton with long golden hair).
Just when it looks like Val and Adalyne are about to have a thing going, who else but the Henry Gang comes in and gums up the works, precipitating a protracted fight to the finish.
While Yoakam underplays his part to the point of catatonia, the rest of his cast, also including Bud Cort, Peter Fonda and Michael Jeter, go in the opposite direction in some kind of contest to determine who can be the most irritating. Jeter's the clear winner as the screeching Uncle Jude.
To his credit, director of photography James Glennon ("El Norte", "Election") mines plenty of atmospheric value for the low-budget buck, but there ain't enough purdy sunsets in the world to compensate for this long-winded, one-trick pony of a home movie.
SOUTH OF HEAVEN, WEST OF HELL
Trimark
Director: Dwight Yoakam
Producers: Gray Frederickson, Darris Hatch
Screenwriters: Dwight Yoakam, Stan Bertheaud
Story: Dwight Yoakam, Dennis Hackin, Otto Felix
Director of photography: James Glennon
Production designer: Siobhan Roome
Editor: Robert Ferretti
Costume designer: Le Dawson
Music: Dwight Yoakam
Color/stereo
Cast:
Valentine Casey: Dwight Yoakam
Taylor: Vince Vaughn
Brigadier Smalls: Billy Bob Thornton
Adalyne Dunfries: Bridget Fonda
Shoshonee Bill: Peter Fonda
Arvid: Paul Reubens
Agent Otts: Bud Cort
Doc Angus Dunfries: Bo Hopkins
Leland: Luke Askew
Uncle Jude: Michael Jeter
Running time -- 131 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
A subversive Gothic western starring Yoakam and a bunch of his Hollywood buddies, the picture, which actually is much closer to hell than its directions would imply, is an interminable, annoying mess of fractured cowboy-movie cliches.
Although Yoakam and co-screenwriter Stan Bertheaud must have had a hoot cramming in all the frat boy perversity -- castration, rape, incest and pedophilia rank high on its top 10 list -- it all comes across as the kind of indulgence that gives vanity projects a bad name.
Yoakam has cast himself as Valentine Casey, a marshal with an uncertain past who finds himself biding time in some kind of existential purgatory resembling a desolate New Mexico town called Los Tragos.
Part of that past resurfaces when the murderous, inbred Henry Gang, presided over by Bible-thumping Leland (Luke Askew), rides into town. Apparently way back when, after Val's own family died during an influenza outbreak, Leland raised Val as his own. Now Leland and his boys, including Vince Vaughn and Paul Reubens, have returned with larceny on their minds. Though Val sticks to his guns, the Henry Gang proceeds to slaughter everything around him that tries to block their path to the bank vault.
Cut to nine months later, where we find Val in the Arizona desert breaking wild horses and meeting up with Adalyne Dunfries (Bridget Fonda), the daughter of the local hotel and saloon owner who has returned to town accompanied by the odd Brigadier Smalls Billy Bob Thornton with long golden hair).
Just when it looks like Val and Adalyne are about to have a thing going, who else but the Henry Gang comes in and gums up the works, precipitating a protracted fight to the finish.
While Yoakam underplays his part to the point of catatonia, the rest of his cast, also including Bud Cort, Peter Fonda and Michael Jeter, go in the opposite direction in some kind of contest to determine who can be the most irritating. Jeter's the clear winner as the screeching Uncle Jude.
To his credit, director of photography James Glennon ("El Norte", "Election") mines plenty of atmospheric value for the low-budget buck, but there ain't enough purdy sunsets in the world to compensate for this long-winded, one-trick pony of a home movie.
SOUTH OF HEAVEN, WEST OF HELL
Trimark
Director: Dwight Yoakam
Producers: Gray Frederickson, Darris Hatch
Screenwriters: Dwight Yoakam, Stan Bertheaud
Story: Dwight Yoakam, Dennis Hackin, Otto Felix
Director of photography: James Glennon
Production designer: Siobhan Roome
Editor: Robert Ferretti
Costume designer: Le Dawson
Music: Dwight Yoakam
Color/stereo
Cast:
Valentine Casey: Dwight Yoakam
Taylor: Vince Vaughn
Brigadier Smalls: Billy Bob Thornton
Adalyne Dunfries: Bridget Fonda
Shoshonee Bill: Peter Fonda
Arvid: Paul Reubens
Agent Otts: Bud Cort
Doc Angus Dunfries: Bo Hopkins
Leland: Luke Askew
Uncle Jude: Michael Jeter
Running time -- 131 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
Sundance Film Festival
PARK CITY -- Billy Bob and Harry Dean way down in the Ozarks -- you don't get further off the beaten path of regional story with Messrs. Thornton and Stanton fightin' and pickin' down in the swampland. And deep amid the swampy vines and crazed hounds, there's a big story snaking through the hills. Joe (Thornton) has wandered back to his home after 20 years in the pen for assorted things, mainly involving matters with the DEA, and he's looking to set things right. Well, he's not quite sure about that.
A Sundance favorite with its backroad twangs, "Chrystal" is likely to shine among indie-film viewers. Gurgling with the primeval fluids of survival, "Chrystal" is a way-off-the beaten-path yarn. Like the piercing cry of a steel guitar, it cradles its way into areas that folks have always struggled in -- whether in a prophet's robe, con's garb or a suit and tie.
Joe is haunted by what happened the night he landed in jail. He drove his wife, Chrystal (Lisa Blount), and young child off the road while being pursued by the law. The baby died and, in a sense, his wife did, too. For the duration of his absence, she has languished in near catatonia, taking lovers and barely subsisting in a backwoods shack. When Joe returns, he tries to make things right
his wife's malaise deepens his anguish, and he clearly sees the ill fruits of his prior actions.
A grand story of redemption, laced with barbecued wit and slopped with intrigue, "Chrystal" is a high heaping of brilliant storytelling. Filmmaker Ray McKinnon, who also co-stars as a verminlike yahoo, has plucked out a grand tale from the deep, with rich chords of human turmoil. "Chrystal" is, beneath its mucky layers, a wonderfully crafted tale of good vs. evil, told in the dirty mud of man's essence.
Subdued and determined, Thornton is terrific as the determined, justice-dispensing Joe. Blount's performance as his depressed, sliding wife is rife with sadness and decent spirits, while McKinnon is redneck evil incarnate. Stanton's gnarly grace and down-home manner is a welcome garnish.
Under McKinnon's hard-strumming directorial hand, the technical team lays out a teeming tale: Stephen Trask's dirt 'n' hurt score, layered back by music supervisor Don Fleming's sounds, ring out with piles of lowlife wisdom.
Chrystal
Ginny Mule Pictures
Credits: Screenwriter-director: Ray McKinnon
Producers: Lisa Blount, Walton Goggins, Ray McKinnon, Bruce Heller, David Koplan
Executive producer: Peter E. Strauss
Co-producer: Anthony Katagas
Director of photography: Adam Kimmel
Editor: Myron Kerstein
Production designer: Chris Jones
Art director: David Hedge
Costume designer: Kelli Jones
Music supervisor: Don Fleming
Composer: Stephen Trask
Casting: Emily Schweber
Cast:
Joe: Billy Bob Thornton
Chrystal: Lisa Blount
Snake: Ray McKinnon
Kalid: Harry Lennix
Larry: Walton Goggins
Gladys: Grace Zabriskie
Barry: Johnny Galecki
Hog: Colin Fickes
Shorty: Max Kasch
Charlie Cato: James Intveld
Miss Mabel: Kathryn Howell
Pa Da: Harry Dean Stanton
Running time -- 120 minutes
No MPAA rating...
PARK CITY -- Billy Bob and Harry Dean way down in the Ozarks -- you don't get further off the beaten path of regional story with Messrs. Thornton and Stanton fightin' and pickin' down in the swampland. And deep amid the swampy vines and crazed hounds, there's a big story snaking through the hills. Joe (Thornton) has wandered back to his home after 20 years in the pen for assorted things, mainly involving matters with the DEA, and he's looking to set things right. Well, he's not quite sure about that.
A Sundance favorite with its backroad twangs, "Chrystal" is likely to shine among indie-film viewers. Gurgling with the primeval fluids of survival, "Chrystal" is a way-off-the beaten-path yarn. Like the piercing cry of a steel guitar, it cradles its way into areas that folks have always struggled in -- whether in a prophet's robe, con's garb or a suit and tie.
Joe is haunted by what happened the night he landed in jail. He drove his wife, Chrystal (Lisa Blount), and young child off the road while being pursued by the law. The baby died and, in a sense, his wife did, too. For the duration of his absence, she has languished in near catatonia, taking lovers and barely subsisting in a backwoods shack. When Joe returns, he tries to make things right
his wife's malaise deepens his anguish, and he clearly sees the ill fruits of his prior actions.
A grand story of redemption, laced with barbecued wit and slopped with intrigue, "Chrystal" is a high heaping of brilliant storytelling. Filmmaker Ray McKinnon, who also co-stars as a verminlike yahoo, has plucked out a grand tale from the deep, with rich chords of human turmoil. "Chrystal" is, beneath its mucky layers, a wonderfully crafted tale of good vs. evil, told in the dirty mud of man's essence.
Subdued and determined, Thornton is terrific as the determined, justice-dispensing Joe. Blount's performance as his depressed, sliding wife is rife with sadness and decent spirits, while McKinnon is redneck evil incarnate. Stanton's gnarly grace and down-home manner is a welcome garnish.
Under McKinnon's hard-strumming directorial hand, the technical team lays out a teeming tale: Stephen Trask's dirt 'n' hurt score, layered back by music supervisor Don Fleming's sounds, ring out with piles of lowlife wisdom.
Chrystal
Ginny Mule Pictures
Credits: Screenwriter-director: Ray McKinnon
Producers: Lisa Blount, Walton Goggins, Ray McKinnon, Bruce Heller, David Koplan
Executive producer: Peter E. Strauss
Co-producer: Anthony Katagas
Director of photography: Adam Kimmel
Editor: Myron Kerstein
Production designer: Chris Jones
Art director: David Hedge
Costume designer: Kelli Jones
Music supervisor: Don Fleming
Composer: Stephen Trask
Casting: Emily Schweber
Cast:
Joe: Billy Bob Thornton
Chrystal: Lisa Blount
Snake: Ray McKinnon
Kalid: Harry Lennix
Larry: Walton Goggins
Gladys: Grace Zabriskie
Barry: Johnny Galecki
Hog: Colin Fickes
Shorty: Max Kasch
Charlie Cato: James Intveld
Miss Mabel: Kathryn Howell
Pa Da: Harry Dean Stanton
Running time -- 120 minutes
No MPAA rating...
- 1/23/2004
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Sundance Film Festival
Park City, Utah
There isn't much levity in "Levity", although the movie is about a man seeking atonement so it does concern the quest for lightness, the lifting of a burden. Writer-director Ed Solomon, light years removed from his Hollywood day job scripting films such as "Men in Black" and the two "Bill & Ted" films, draws viewers into a tightly controlled and metaphorical world in which an ex-con, a man withdrawn into himself after years in prison, suddenly finds himself back in the place where he once killed a teenager and wants to say he's sorry to someone.
The opening night film of Sundance 2003 is a high-charged emotional work, fleshed out with believable characters and a sharply observed environment. Solid performances by Billy Bob Thornton, as a man who has no role to play in society, as well as Morgan Freeman, Holly Hunter and Kirsten Dunst, greatly help Solomon to tell a story on his mind since he tutored teens in a maximum-security juvenile prison years before. Sony Pictures Classics should enjoy modest boxoffice success in specialty venues with the film.
While Solomon and his production team work hard to create a gritty inner-city environment, the film has a fairy-tale quality. Thornton's Manuel Jordan is paroled without explanation after serving 22 years of a life sentence. He then finds himself in an empty, snowy parking lot where a pay phone rings, a summons to his destiny. On the other end of the line is Freeman's Miles Evans, a gruff but kindly minister, who runs a community center. Miles expected another man to answer but, nevertheless, Manuel soon has a room at the center and a place to work. A newspaper photo of the young convenience store clerk he shot is the room's only adornment.
He tracks down and follows the dead boy's older sister, Adele (Hunter), and somewhat unbelievably enters into her life, meeting her own troubled teenage son (Geoffrey Wigdor), named after his dead uncle. A nightclub across the scruffy parking lot from the center produces the movie's final major character. Here at the club, Sofia (Dunst), a beautiful and seemingly privileged young woman, trashes herself with nightly debauches from which Manuel must rescue her.
People do preach to one another in this movie: The pastor to Manuel because, well, that's his job, and Manuel to Sofia because her self-destructiveness makes him angry. But, curiously, no one seems to put much faith in these sermons. Miles even calls his sermons "lies." And Manuel never gets around to telling the young boys assigned to the community center because of some vandalism his own words of wisdom. People's attitudes, their looks and silences, speak louder in the movie. The wages of sin are writ large on their faces.
What Sofia calls Manuel's "icy" glare is really a sad stare. With long graying hair and a face of morose astonishment, Thornton moves through the film with a quiet reticence that seemingly goads other characters to action.
Solomon's succession of climaxes to tie up all the plot threats smacks of contrivance. Things end up a little too neat and tidy for people who live such untidy lives. While this by no means undoes the fine work leading up to the third act, it does put you at a distance from the drama.
Cinematographer Roger Deakins and designer Francois Seguin keep the colors dark, cool and muted. Montreal plays the unnamed east coast city, looking scruffy, cold and somewhat inhospitable. Mark Oliver Everett supplies a minimal, low-key score that's just right.
This is, overall, an inspired debut as a director for Solomon and, one hopes, a promise of greater works to come.
LEVITY
Sony Pictures Classics
Sony Pictures Classics and Studio Canal present a Film Colony production
Credits:
Writer/director: Ed Solomon
Producers: Richard N. Gladstein, Adam J. Merims, Ed Solomon
Executive producers: Morgan Freeman, Lori McCreary, Fred Schepisi, Andrew Spaulding, James Burke, Doug Mankoff
Director of photography: Richard Deakins
Production designer: Francois Seguin
Music: Mark Oliver Everett
Costume designer: Marie-Sylvie Deveau
Editor: Pietro Scalia.
Cast: Manuel Jordan: Billy Bob Thornton
Miles Evans: Morgan Freeman
Adele Easley: Holly Hunter
Sophia: Kirsten Dunst
Running time -- 100 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
Park City, Utah
There isn't much levity in "Levity", although the movie is about a man seeking atonement so it does concern the quest for lightness, the lifting of a burden. Writer-director Ed Solomon, light years removed from his Hollywood day job scripting films such as "Men in Black" and the two "Bill & Ted" films, draws viewers into a tightly controlled and metaphorical world in which an ex-con, a man withdrawn into himself after years in prison, suddenly finds himself back in the place where he once killed a teenager and wants to say he's sorry to someone.
The opening night film of Sundance 2003 is a high-charged emotional work, fleshed out with believable characters and a sharply observed environment. Solid performances by Billy Bob Thornton, as a man who has no role to play in society, as well as Morgan Freeman, Holly Hunter and Kirsten Dunst, greatly help Solomon to tell a story on his mind since he tutored teens in a maximum-security juvenile prison years before. Sony Pictures Classics should enjoy modest boxoffice success in specialty venues with the film.
While Solomon and his production team work hard to create a gritty inner-city environment, the film has a fairy-tale quality. Thornton's Manuel Jordan is paroled without explanation after serving 22 years of a life sentence. He then finds himself in an empty, snowy parking lot where a pay phone rings, a summons to his destiny. On the other end of the line is Freeman's Miles Evans, a gruff but kindly minister, who runs a community center. Miles expected another man to answer but, nevertheless, Manuel soon has a room at the center and a place to work. A newspaper photo of the young convenience store clerk he shot is the room's only adornment.
He tracks down and follows the dead boy's older sister, Adele (Hunter), and somewhat unbelievably enters into her life, meeting her own troubled teenage son (Geoffrey Wigdor), named after his dead uncle. A nightclub across the scruffy parking lot from the center produces the movie's final major character. Here at the club, Sofia (Dunst), a beautiful and seemingly privileged young woman, trashes herself with nightly debauches from which Manuel must rescue her.
People do preach to one another in this movie: The pastor to Manuel because, well, that's his job, and Manuel to Sofia because her self-destructiveness makes him angry. But, curiously, no one seems to put much faith in these sermons. Miles even calls his sermons "lies." And Manuel never gets around to telling the young boys assigned to the community center because of some vandalism his own words of wisdom. People's attitudes, their looks and silences, speak louder in the movie. The wages of sin are writ large on their faces.
What Sofia calls Manuel's "icy" glare is really a sad stare. With long graying hair and a face of morose astonishment, Thornton moves through the film with a quiet reticence that seemingly goads other characters to action.
Solomon's succession of climaxes to tie up all the plot threats smacks of contrivance. Things end up a little too neat and tidy for people who live such untidy lives. While this by no means undoes the fine work leading up to the third act, it does put you at a distance from the drama.
Cinematographer Roger Deakins and designer Francois Seguin keep the colors dark, cool and muted. Montreal plays the unnamed east coast city, looking scruffy, cold and somewhat inhospitable. Mark Oliver Everett supplies a minimal, low-key score that's just right.
This is, overall, an inspired debut as a director for Solomon and, one hopes, a promise of greater works to come.
LEVITY
Sony Pictures Classics
Sony Pictures Classics and Studio Canal present a Film Colony production
Credits:
Writer/director: Ed Solomon
Producers: Richard N. Gladstein, Adam J. Merims, Ed Solomon
Executive producers: Morgan Freeman, Lori McCreary, Fred Schepisi, Andrew Spaulding, James Burke, Doug Mankoff
Director of photography: Richard Deakins
Production designer: Francois Seguin
Music: Mark Oliver Everett
Costume designer: Marie-Sylvie Deveau
Editor: Pietro Scalia.
Cast: Manuel Jordan: Billy Bob Thornton
Miles Evans: Morgan Freeman
Adele Easley: Holly Hunter
Sophia: Kirsten Dunst
Running time -- 100 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 1/21/2003
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Having impressively proved himself a capable actor, country singer-songwriter Dwight Yoakam adds director-screenwriter-producer-composer to his resume, and the resulting "South of Heaven, West of Hell" would suggest a case of wearing at least one Stetson too many.
A subversive Gothic western starring Yoakam and a bunch of his Hollywood buddies, the picture, which actually is much closer to hell than its directions would imply, is an interminable, annoying mess of fractured cowboy-movie cliches.
Although Yoakam and co-screenwriter Stan Bertheaud must have had a hoot cramming in all the frat boy perversity -- castration, rape, incest and pedophilia rank high on its top 10 list -- it all comes across as the kind of indulgence that gives vanity projects a bad name.
Yoakam has cast himself as Valentine Casey, a marshal with an uncertain past who finds himself biding time in some kind of existential purgatory resembling a desolate New Mexico town called Los Tragos.
Part of that past resurfaces when the murderous, inbred Henry Gang, presided over by Bible-thumping Leland (Luke Askew), rides into town. Apparently way back when, after Val's own family died during an influenza outbreak, Leland raised Val as his own. Now Leland and his boys, including Vince Vaughn and Paul Reubens, have returned with larceny on their minds. Though Val sticks to his guns, the Henry Gang proceeds to slaughter everything around him that tries to block their path to the bank vault.
Cut to nine months later, where we find Val in the Arizona desert breaking wild horses and meeting up with Adalyne Dunfries (Bridget Fonda), the daughter of the local hotel and saloon owner who has returned to town accompanied by the odd Brigadier Smalls Billy Bob Thornton with long golden hair).
Just when it looks like Val and Adalyne are about to have a thing going, who else but the Henry Gang comes in and gums up the works, precipitating a protracted fight to the finish.
While Yoakam underplays his part to the point of catatonia, the rest of his cast, also including Bud Cort, Peter Fonda and Michael Jeter, go in the opposite direction in some kind of contest to determine who can be the most irritating. Jeter's the clear winner as the screeching Uncle Jude.
To his credit, director of photography James Glennon ("El Norte", "Election") mines plenty of atmospheric value for the low-budget buck, but there ain't enough purdy sunsets in the world to compensate for this long-winded, one-trick pony of a home movie.
SOUTH OF HEAVEN, WEST OF HELL
Trimark
Director: Dwight Yoakam
Producers: Gray Frederickson, Darris Hatch
Screenwriters: Dwight Yoakam, Stan Bertheaud
Story: Dwight Yoakam, Dennis Hackin, Otto Felix
Director of photography: James Glennon
Production designer: Siobhan Roome
Editor: Robert Ferretti
Costume designer: Le Dawson
Music: Dwight Yoakam
Color/stereo
Cast:
Valentine Casey: Dwight Yoakam
Taylor: Vince Vaughn
Brigadier Smalls: Billy Bob Thornton
Adalyne Dunfries: Bridget Fonda
Shoshonee Bill: Peter Fonda
Arvid: Paul Reubens
Agent Otts: Bud Cort
Doc Angus Dunfries: Bo Hopkins
Leland: Luke Askew
Uncle Jude: Michael Jeter
Running time -- 131 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
A subversive Gothic western starring Yoakam and a bunch of his Hollywood buddies, the picture, which actually is much closer to hell than its directions would imply, is an interminable, annoying mess of fractured cowboy-movie cliches.
Although Yoakam and co-screenwriter Stan Bertheaud must have had a hoot cramming in all the frat boy perversity -- castration, rape, incest and pedophilia rank high on its top 10 list -- it all comes across as the kind of indulgence that gives vanity projects a bad name.
Yoakam has cast himself as Valentine Casey, a marshal with an uncertain past who finds himself biding time in some kind of existential purgatory resembling a desolate New Mexico town called Los Tragos.
Part of that past resurfaces when the murderous, inbred Henry Gang, presided over by Bible-thumping Leland (Luke Askew), rides into town. Apparently way back when, after Val's own family died during an influenza outbreak, Leland raised Val as his own. Now Leland and his boys, including Vince Vaughn and Paul Reubens, have returned with larceny on their minds. Though Val sticks to his guns, the Henry Gang proceeds to slaughter everything around him that tries to block their path to the bank vault.
Cut to nine months later, where we find Val in the Arizona desert breaking wild horses and meeting up with Adalyne Dunfries (Bridget Fonda), the daughter of the local hotel and saloon owner who has returned to town accompanied by the odd Brigadier Smalls Billy Bob Thornton with long golden hair).
Just when it looks like Val and Adalyne are about to have a thing going, who else but the Henry Gang comes in and gums up the works, precipitating a protracted fight to the finish.
While Yoakam underplays his part to the point of catatonia, the rest of his cast, also including Bud Cort, Peter Fonda and Michael Jeter, go in the opposite direction in some kind of contest to determine who can be the most irritating. Jeter's the clear winner as the screeching Uncle Jude.
To his credit, director of photography James Glennon ("El Norte", "Election") mines plenty of atmospheric value for the low-budget buck, but there ain't enough purdy sunsets in the world to compensate for this long-winded, one-trick pony of a home movie.
SOUTH OF HEAVEN, WEST OF HELL
Trimark
Director: Dwight Yoakam
Producers: Gray Frederickson, Darris Hatch
Screenwriters: Dwight Yoakam, Stan Bertheaud
Story: Dwight Yoakam, Dennis Hackin, Otto Felix
Director of photography: James Glennon
Production designer: Siobhan Roome
Editor: Robert Ferretti
Costume designer: Le Dawson
Music: Dwight Yoakam
Color/stereo
Cast:
Valentine Casey: Dwight Yoakam
Taylor: Vince Vaughn
Brigadier Smalls: Billy Bob Thornton
Adalyne Dunfries: Bridget Fonda
Shoshonee Bill: Peter Fonda
Arvid: Paul Reubens
Agent Otts: Bud Cort
Doc Angus Dunfries: Bo Hopkins
Leland: Luke Askew
Uncle Jude: Michael Jeter
Running time -- 131 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 12/18/2000
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Having impressively proved himself a capable actor, country singer-songwriter Dwight Yoakam adds director-screenwriter-producer-composer to his resume, and the resulting "South of Heaven, West of Hell" would suggest a case of wearing at least one Stetson too many.
A subversive Gothic western starring Yoakam and a bunch of his Hollywood buddies, the picture, which actually is much closer to hell than its directions would imply, is an interminable, annoying mess of fractured cowboy-movie cliches.
Although Yoakam and co-screenwriter Stan Bertheaud must have had a hoot cramming in all the frat boy perversity -- castration, rape, incest and pedophilia rank high on its top 10 list -- it all comes across as the kind of indulgence that gives vanity projects a bad name.
Yoakam has cast himself as Valentine Casey, a marshal with an uncertain past who finds himself biding time in some kind of existential purgatory resembling a desolate New Mexico town called Los Tragos.
Part of that past resurfaces when the murderous, inbred Henry Gang, presided over by Bible-thumping Leland (Luke Askew), rides into town. Apparently way back when, after Val's own family died during an influenza outbreak, Leland raised Val as his own. Now Leland and his boys, including Vince Vaughn and Paul Reubens, have returned with larceny on their minds. Though Val sticks to his guns, the Henry Gang proceeds to slaughter everything around him that tries to block their path to the bank vault.
Cut to nine months later, where we find Val in the Arizona desert breaking wild horses and meeting up with Adalyne Dunfries (Bridget Fonda), the daughter of the local hotel and saloon owner who has returned to town accompanied by the odd Brigadier Smalls Billy Bob Thornton with long golden hair).
Just when it looks like Val and Adalyne are about to have a thing going, who else but the Henry Gang comes in and gums up the works, precipitating a protracted fight to the finish.
While Yoakam underplays his part to the point of catatonia, the rest of his cast, also including Bud Cort, Peter Fonda and Michael Jeter, go in the opposite direction in some kind of contest to determine who can be the most irritating. Jeter's the clear winner as the screeching Uncle Jude.
To his credit, director of photography James Glennon ("El Norte", "Election") mines plenty of atmospheric value for the low-budget buck, but there ain't enough purdy sunsets in the world to compensate for this long-winded, one-trick pony of a home movie.
SOUTH OF HEAVEN, WEST OF HELL
Trimark
Director: Dwight Yoakam
Producers: Gray Frederickson, Darris Hatch
Screenwriters: Dwight Yoakam, Stan Bertheaud
Story: Dwight Yoakam, Dennis Hackin, Otto Felix
Director of photography: James Glennon
Production designer: Siobhan Roome
Editor: Robert Ferretti
Costume designer: Le Dawson
Music: Dwight Yoakam
Color/stereo
Cast:
Valentine Casey: Dwight Yoakam
Taylor: Vince Vaughn
Brigadier Smalls: Billy Bob Thornton
Adalyne Dunfries: Bridget Fonda
Shoshonee Bill: Peter Fonda
Arvid: Paul Reubens
Agent Otts: Bud Cort
Doc Angus Dunfries: Bo Hopkins
Leland: Luke Askew
Uncle Jude: Michael Jeter
Running time -- 131 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
A subversive Gothic western starring Yoakam and a bunch of his Hollywood buddies, the picture, which actually is much closer to hell than its directions would imply, is an interminable, annoying mess of fractured cowboy-movie cliches.
Although Yoakam and co-screenwriter Stan Bertheaud must have had a hoot cramming in all the frat boy perversity -- castration, rape, incest and pedophilia rank high on its top 10 list -- it all comes across as the kind of indulgence that gives vanity projects a bad name.
Yoakam has cast himself as Valentine Casey, a marshal with an uncertain past who finds himself biding time in some kind of existential purgatory resembling a desolate New Mexico town called Los Tragos.
Part of that past resurfaces when the murderous, inbred Henry Gang, presided over by Bible-thumping Leland (Luke Askew), rides into town. Apparently way back when, after Val's own family died during an influenza outbreak, Leland raised Val as his own. Now Leland and his boys, including Vince Vaughn and Paul Reubens, have returned with larceny on their minds. Though Val sticks to his guns, the Henry Gang proceeds to slaughter everything around him that tries to block their path to the bank vault.
Cut to nine months later, where we find Val in the Arizona desert breaking wild horses and meeting up with Adalyne Dunfries (Bridget Fonda), the daughter of the local hotel and saloon owner who has returned to town accompanied by the odd Brigadier Smalls Billy Bob Thornton with long golden hair).
Just when it looks like Val and Adalyne are about to have a thing going, who else but the Henry Gang comes in and gums up the works, precipitating a protracted fight to the finish.
While Yoakam underplays his part to the point of catatonia, the rest of his cast, also including Bud Cort, Peter Fonda and Michael Jeter, go in the opposite direction in some kind of contest to determine who can be the most irritating. Jeter's the clear winner as the screeching Uncle Jude.
To his credit, director of photography James Glennon ("El Norte", "Election") mines plenty of atmospheric value for the low-budget buck, but there ain't enough purdy sunsets in the world to compensate for this long-winded, one-trick pony of a home movie.
SOUTH OF HEAVEN, WEST OF HELL
Trimark
Director: Dwight Yoakam
Producers: Gray Frederickson, Darris Hatch
Screenwriters: Dwight Yoakam, Stan Bertheaud
Story: Dwight Yoakam, Dennis Hackin, Otto Felix
Director of photography: James Glennon
Production designer: Siobhan Roome
Editor: Robert Ferretti
Costume designer: Le Dawson
Music: Dwight Yoakam
Color/stereo
Cast:
Valentine Casey: Dwight Yoakam
Taylor: Vince Vaughn
Brigadier Smalls: Billy Bob Thornton
Adalyne Dunfries: Bridget Fonda
Shoshonee Bill: Peter Fonda
Arvid: Paul Reubens
Agent Otts: Bud Cort
Doc Angus Dunfries: Bo Hopkins
Leland: Luke Askew
Uncle Jude: Michael Jeter
Running time -- 131 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 12/18/2000
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
This film from Japanese anime master Hayao Miyazaki is the second-highest all-time boxoffice grosser in its native country (only "Titanic" beats it), but that may be saying more about the Japanese than "Princess Mononoke".
A high-quality effort boasting beautiful animation, the film is a significant departure from the zippy, musical-based Disney style that has proven so successful in recent years, and the addition of English dubbing with well-known American performers is unlikely to propel it to similar boxoffice heights in the United States. Recently showcased at the New York Film Festival, it is due for a commercial release Oct. 29 by Miramax.
Adult-oriented in its themes and style, the mythical story line is based loosely on Japanese folklore and is a complicated tale of the struggle between the iron-forging Tatara villagers and the monsters the forest gods have created to protect the sacred forests on which the Tataras are encroaching. The hero of the piece is Ashitaka (Billy Crudup), a young warrior who kills one of the monsters, a giant boar-like creature, threatening his village, only to discover that a curse has been placed on him.
Ashitaka travels to the land of the Tataras to solve the mystery of the curse and encounters their leader, Lady Eboshi (Minnie Driver), as well as the beautiful Princess Mononoke (Claire Danes), a young woman who has been raised by wolves. Ashitaka soon finds himself caught up in a series of battles between the humans and the various mystical forest creatures.
Miyazaki's gorgeous style, a mixture of traditional cel and computer animation, is on ample display. With a running time of 135 minutes, perhaps too ample; the film's relaxed pacing, graphic violence and relative lack of humor may prove too off-putting for American audiences used to jokier, zippier efforts.
But there is no denying the film's visual imagination, from the awe-inspiring creature creations to the stunning forest landscapes to the sensitive human characterizations. Children will be particularly entranced by the ethereal white Tree Spirits.
Neil Gaiman's English adaptation of the Japanese script is a bit crude at times, but is mostly effective, and the largely American voice cast handles its chores effectively, though most lack the distinctive vocal characteristics that would make their characters truly stand out. Most effective is Gillian Anderson, her voice electronically altered, as a wolf god, and Billy Bob Thornton, who brings a down-home quality to his role as a tough-talking monk.
PRINCESS MONONOKE
Miramax Films
Director: Hayao Miyazaki
Screenwriter: Hayao Miyazaki
English adaptation by: Neil Gaiman
ProducerToshio Suzuki
Executive producers: Bob Weinstein, Harvey Weinstein, Scott Martin, Yasuyoshi Tokuma
Co-executive producers: Seiichiro Ujiie, Yutaka Narita
Music: Joe Hisaishi
Color/stereo
Voices:
Ashitaka: Billy Crudup
Jigo: Billy Bob Thornton
Lady Eboshi: Minnie Driver
Gonza: John Di Maggio
Princess Mononoke: Claire Danes
Kohroku: John De Mita
Toki: Jada Pinkett-Smith
Okkoto: Keith David
Running time -- 135 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
A high-quality effort boasting beautiful animation, the film is a significant departure from the zippy, musical-based Disney style that has proven so successful in recent years, and the addition of English dubbing with well-known American performers is unlikely to propel it to similar boxoffice heights in the United States. Recently showcased at the New York Film Festival, it is due for a commercial release Oct. 29 by Miramax.
Adult-oriented in its themes and style, the mythical story line is based loosely on Japanese folklore and is a complicated tale of the struggle between the iron-forging Tatara villagers and the monsters the forest gods have created to protect the sacred forests on which the Tataras are encroaching. The hero of the piece is Ashitaka (Billy Crudup), a young warrior who kills one of the monsters, a giant boar-like creature, threatening his village, only to discover that a curse has been placed on him.
Ashitaka travels to the land of the Tataras to solve the mystery of the curse and encounters their leader, Lady Eboshi (Minnie Driver), as well as the beautiful Princess Mononoke (Claire Danes), a young woman who has been raised by wolves. Ashitaka soon finds himself caught up in a series of battles between the humans and the various mystical forest creatures.
Miyazaki's gorgeous style, a mixture of traditional cel and computer animation, is on ample display. With a running time of 135 minutes, perhaps too ample; the film's relaxed pacing, graphic violence and relative lack of humor may prove too off-putting for American audiences used to jokier, zippier efforts.
But there is no denying the film's visual imagination, from the awe-inspiring creature creations to the stunning forest landscapes to the sensitive human characterizations. Children will be particularly entranced by the ethereal white Tree Spirits.
Neil Gaiman's English adaptation of the Japanese script is a bit crude at times, but is mostly effective, and the largely American voice cast handles its chores effectively, though most lack the distinctive vocal characteristics that would make their characters truly stand out. Most effective is Gillian Anderson, her voice electronically altered, as a wolf god, and Billy Bob Thornton, who brings a down-home quality to his role as a tough-talking monk.
PRINCESS MONONOKE
Miramax Films
Director: Hayao Miyazaki
Screenwriter: Hayao Miyazaki
English adaptation by: Neil Gaiman
ProducerToshio Suzuki
Executive producers: Bob Weinstein, Harvey Weinstein, Scott Martin, Yasuyoshi Tokuma
Co-executive producers: Seiichiro Ujiie, Yutaka Narita
Music: Joe Hisaishi
Color/stereo
Voices:
Ashitaka: Billy Crudup
Jigo: Billy Bob Thornton
Lady Eboshi: Minnie Driver
Gonza: John Di Maggio
Princess Mononoke: Claire Danes
Kohroku: John De Mita
Toki: Jada Pinkett-Smith
Okkoto: Keith David
Running time -- 135 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
- 10/13/1999
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Responsible for 7,000 flights a day, coming up with dozens of quick decisions and never making a major mistake -- they are air traffic controllers, the FAA's defenders against "chaos in the sky." In "Pushing Tin", John Cusack's aggressive, controlling, competitive lead character marks another solid outing for the actor, and co-star Billy Bob Thornton is commanding as his rival in the tower.
But pushing middle-of-the-road material, director Mike Newell ("Four Weddings and a Funeral", "Donnie Brasco") brings no special flair to the storytelling, and the 20th Century Fox release will have trouble filling planes in its theatrical flight schedules.
Younger moviegoers will probably book trips elsewhere, but the cast may attract adult women and couples, and the film should wing into friendly ancillary skies.
Oscar nominee Cate Blanchett is a bit tentative but otherwise successful as Cusack's contemporary American wife. Rising star Angelina Jolie exudes sex appeal but has little else to do. Like two gunslingers with an audience, Cusack and Thornton dominate the movie, based on Darcy Frey's 1996 New York Times Magazine article. The talky, jargony screenplay is credited to "Cheers" co-creators and TV veterans Glen and Les Charles.
Nick Falzone (Cusack), Top Dog at New York's Terminal Radar Approach Control Center, is a fast driver and fast talker with an art student wife, Connie (Blanchett). One day, motorcycle-riding loner Russell Bell (Thornton) reports for duty, and Nick starts a rivalry that eventually includes infidelity and crazy, death-defying antics on the runway.
With a mysterious past and loose-cannon reputation, Russell is married to sultry, bored Mary (Jolie). From showing up Nick on the basketball court to handling job pressure with a shrug, Russell is a quiet, meditative guy but too macho to let serious challenges go unanswered.
Nick's losing control of his life because of his irresponsible actions, and his obsessive behavior gets potentially ugly when he sleeps with Mary and breaks up with Connie. He loses his cool and his job, while Russell is the hero when a bomb threat clears the building and he leaves town with Mary to diffuse the tension.
A climactic moment of bonding between Nick and Russell on the tarmac is the blustery payoff that finally takes the edge off the former, but for long stretches, the film is more a glorified sitcom than engaging cinema. Numerous special effects shots of jetliners seem oddly out of joint with the visually ho-hum movie.
PUSHING TIN
20th Century Fox
Fox 2000 and Regency Enterprises present
a Linson Films production
Director: Mike Newell
Producer: Art Linson
Screenwriters: Glen Charles, Les Charles
Executive producers: Alan Greenspan, Michael Flynn
Director of photography: Gale Tattersall
Production designer: Bruno Rubeo
Editor: Jon Gregory
Costume designer: Marie-Sylvie Deveau
Music: Anne Dudley
Color/stereo
Cast:
Nick Falzone: John Cusack
Russell Bell: Billy Bob Thornton
Connie Falzone: Cate Blanchett
Mary Bell: Angelina Jolie
Barry Plotkin: Jake Weber
Vicki Lewis: Tina Leary
Running time -- 123 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
But pushing middle-of-the-road material, director Mike Newell ("Four Weddings and a Funeral", "Donnie Brasco") brings no special flair to the storytelling, and the 20th Century Fox release will have trouble filling planes in its theatrical flight schedules.
Younger moviegoers will probably book trips elsewhere, but the cast may attract adult women and couples, and the film should wing into friendly ancillary skies.
Oscar nominee Cate Blanchett is a bit tentative but otherwise successful as Cusack's contemporary American wife. Rising star Angelina Jolie exudes sex appeal but has little else to do. Like two gunslingers with an audience, Cusack and Thornton dominate the movie, based on Darcy Frey's 1996 New York Times Magazine article. The talky, jargony screenplay is credited to "Cheers" co-creators and TV veterans Glen and Les Charles.
Nick Falzone (Cusack), Top Dog at New York's Terminal Radar Approach Control Center, is a fast driver and fast talker with an art student wife, Connie (Blanchett). One day, motorcycle-riding loner Russell Bell (Thornton) reports for duty, and Nick starts a rivalry that eventually includes infidelity and crazy, death-defying antics on the runway.
With a mysterious past and loose-cannon reputation, Russell is married to sultry, bored Mary (Jolie). From showing up Nick on the basketball court to handling job pressure with a shrug, Russell is a quiet, meditative guy but too macho to let serious challenges go unanswered.
Nick's losing control of his life because of his irresponsible actions, and his obsessive behavior gets potentially ugly when he sleeps with Mary and breaks up with Connie. He loses his cool and his job, while Russell is the hero when a bomb threat clears the building and he leaves town with Mary to diffuse the tension.
A climactic moment of bonding between Nick and Russell on the tarmac is the blustery payoff that finally takes the edge off the former, but for long stretches, the film is more a glorified sitcom than engaging cinema. Numerous special effects shots of jetliners seem oddly out of joint with the visually ho-hum movie.
PUSHING TIN
20th Century Fox
Fox 2000 and Regency Enterprises present
a Linson Films production
Director: Mike Newell
Producer: Art Linson
Screenwriters: Glen Charles, Les Charles
Executive producers: Alan Greenspan, Michael Flynn
Director of photography: Gale Tattersall
Production designer: Bruno Rubeo
Editor: Jon Gregory
Costume designer: Marie-Sylvie Deveau
Music: Anne Dudley
Color/stereo
Cast:
Nick Falzone: John Cusack
Russell Bell: Billy Bob Thornton
Connie Falzone: Cate Blanchett
Mary Bell: Angelina Jolie
Barry Plotkin: Jake Weber
Vicki Lewis: Tina Leary
Running time -- 123 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 4/19/1999
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Call it "Dawson's Cleats".
WB resident James Van Der Beek tries the big screen on for size with "Varsity Blues", an all-too-familiar portrait of a group of small town high school footballers who ultimately make All The Right Moves after seeing their way through a barrage of physical and psychological obstacles.
While Van Der Beek manages to make the transition with most of that "Dawson's Creek" sweetness intact, the tired, corn-fed storyline and generic, plug-and-play direction quickly give rise to the question, "Where's Adam Sandler when you need him?"
Given its pre-Super Bowl positioning and potential built-in "Dawson's Creek" demo, the MTV Films production probably won't have Paramount crying the blues, but neither will it be a boxoffice overachiever.
Van Der Beek plays second-string West Canaan Coyotes quarterback Jonathan Moxon, a good student with aspirations beyond the gridiron (he spends his time on the sidelines reading Kurt Vonnegut) which automatically puts him at odds with bullying head coach Bud Kilmer (Jon Voight) who's hell-bent on leading his team to their 23rd division title.
Of course, nobody likes a smart boy, especially in a town that has at least one very obese character called Billy Bob (Ron Lester) and a distinct fondness for the phrase, "sumabitch."
But Jonathan ends up going head-to-head with Kilmer when star quarterback Lance Harbor (Paul Walker) suffers an injury that will put him out of commission for two seasons, thrusting Moxon into the limelight.
As it turns out, keeping his team's spirits up and winning the division aren't the only items on Mox's full plate. There are also the matters of living out his father's own failed high school football dreams, handling the transferred affections of Harbor's cheerleader girlfriend (Ali Larter), while trying to hold onto his relationship with Harbor's unimpressed sister (Amy Smart), not to mention how he's going to deal with Kilmer's less-than-ethical ways of treating player injuries.
Since this is a story with zero semblance of originality or unpredictability, all will be tied up with a cute little bow at the end, with Mox providing a closing voice-over assuring us that he'll never forget that championship season.
Whatever cliches may have been inadvertently left out of W. Peter Iliff's derivative script, have thoughtfully been visually incorporated thanks to Brian Robbins' ("Good Burger") no-brainer directing style. The modus operandi here appears to be, when in doubt, go for the slo-mo.
Although Van Der Beek doesn't exactly register strongly here, he remains likable enough despite the uninspiring material. As his chief nemesis, Voight adds yet another heavy to his ever-growing roster of arched-eyebrowed adversaries. He's certainly up to more challenging stuff.
As the chronic party animal, Scott Caan displays some of dad James' early Young Buck bravado; while Ali Larter shows some spark as the town tramp who's afraid she'll never leave home despite her way with a can of whipped cream.
Production values are certainly more than serviceable, with solid work from cinematographer Charles Cohen, whose affinity for shooting athletics was previously demonstrated with "The Waterboy", "Little Giants", and, particularly, "Without Limits", a sports picture that refreshingly broke the generic mold at every turn with nary a Billy Bob in sight.
VARSITY BLUES
Paramount
In association with MTV Films
A Marquee Tollin/Robbins prod. in association with Tova Laiter Prods.
Director: Brian Robbins
Producers: Tova Laiter, Mike Tollin, Brian Robbins
Screenwriter: W. Peter Iliff
Executive producers: David Gale and Van Toffler
Director of photography: Charles Cohen
Production designer: Jaymes Hinkle
Editor: Ned Bastille
Costume designer: Wendy Chuck
Music supervisor: G. Marq Roswell
Music: Mark Isham
Color/stereo
Cast:
Jonathan Moxon: James Van Der Beek
Coach Bud Kilmer: Jon Voight
Lance Harbor: Paul Walker
Billy Bob: Ron Lester
Tweeder: Scott Caan
Jules Harbor: Amy Smart
Darcy: Ali Larter
Wendell: Eliel Swinton
Running time -- 106 minutes
MPAA Rating: R...
WB resident James Van Der Beek tries the big screen on for size with "Varsity Blues", an all-too-familiar portrait of a group of small town high school footballers who ultimately make All The Right Moves after seeing their way through a barrage of physical and psychological obstacles.
While Van Der Beek manages to make the transition with most of that "Dawson's Creek" sweetness intact, the tired, corn-fed storyline and generic, plug-and-play direction quickly give rise to the question, "Where's Adam Sandler when you need him?"
Given its pre-Super Bowl positioning and potential built-in "Dawson's Creek" demo, the MTV Films production probably won't have Paramount crying the blues, but neither will it be a boxoffice overachiever.
Van Der Beek plays second-string West Canaan Coyotes quarterback Jonathan Moxon, a good student with aspirations beyond the gridiron (he spends his time on the sidelines reading Kurt Vonnegut) which automatically puts him at odds with bullying head coach Bud Kilmer (Jon Voight) who's hell-bent on leading his team to their 23rd division title.
Of course, nobody likes a smart boy, especially in a town that has at least one very obese character called Billy Bob (Ron Lester) and a distinct fondness for the phrase, "sumabitch."
But Jonathan ends up going head-to-head with Kilmer when star quarterback Lance Harbor (Paul Walker) suffers an injury that will put him out of commission for two seasons, thrusting Moxon into the limelight.
As it turns out, keeping his team's spirits up and winning the division aren't the only items on Mox's full plate. There are also the matters of living out his father's own failed high school football dreams, handling the transferred affections of Harbor's cheerleader girlfriend (Ali Larter), while trying to hold onto his relationship with Harbor's unimpressed sister (Amy Smart), not to mention how he's going to deal with Kilmer's less-than-ethical ways of treating player injuries.
Since this is a story with zero semblance of originality or unpredictability, all will be tied up with a cute little bow at the end, with Mox providing a closing voice-over assuring us that he'll never forget that championship season.
Whatever cliches may have been inadvertently left out of W. Peter Iliff's derivative script, have thoughtfully been visually incorporated thanks to Brian Robbins' ("Good Burger") no-brainer directing style. The modus operandi here appears to be, when in doubt, go for the slo-mo.
Although Van Der Beek doesn't exactly register strongly here, he remains likable enough despite the uninspiring material. As his chief nemesis, Voight adds yet another heavy to his ever-growing roster of arched-eyebrowed adversaries. He's certainly up to more challenging stuff.
As the chronic party animal, Scott Caan displays some of dad James' early Young Buck bravado; while Ali Larter shows some spark as the town tramp who's afraid she'll never leave home despite her way with a can of whipped cream.
Production values are certainly more than serviceable, with solid work from cinematographer Charles Cohen, whose affinity for shooting athletics was previously demonstrated with "The Waterboy", "Little Giants", and, particularly, "Without Limits", a sports picture that refreshingly broke the generic mold at every turn with nary a Billy Bob in sight.
VARSITY BLUES
Paramount
In association with MTV Films
A Marquee Tollin/Robbins prod. in association with Tova Laiter Prods.
Director: Brian Robbins
Producers: Tova Laiter, Mike Tollin, Brian Robbins
Screenwriter: W. Peter Iliff
Executive producers: David Gale and Van Toffler
Director of photography: Charles Cohen
Production designer: Jaymes Hinkle
Editor: Ned Bastille
Costume designer: Wendy Chuck
Music supervisor: G. Marq Roswell
Music: Mark Isham
Color/stereo
Cast:
Jonathan Moxon: James Van Der Beek
Coach Bud Kilmer: Jon Voight
Lance Harbor: Paul Walker
Billy Bob: Ron Lester
Tweeder: Scott Caan
Jules Harbor: Amy Smart
Darcy: Ali Larter
Wendell: Eliel Swinton
Running time -- 106 minutes
MPAA Rating: R...
- 1/11/1999
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Even the simplest things can get out of hand pretty fast, as witnessed in this terse small-town thriller starring Bill Paxton and Billy Bob Thornton and directed by Sam Raimi.
Flecked with the sparse, rich detail of rural Minnesota, this well-made drama unfortunately lurches into motivational lapses under the girth of its trip-wire plotting. Still, "A Simple Plan" is filled with ample pleasures, most prominently Thornton's addled and endearing portrayal of -- you'll never believe this -- a rube simpleton.
High-coastal cognoscenti who have formed their opinion of the Midwest through the Coen brothers' fractured frivolities will possibly be disappointed by this starkly naturalistic and chillingly accurate depiction of small-town life -- which is likely to harvest some initial interest on the select-site circuit, primarily in the upper Midwest. But this dimly scoped drama may be unappealing in the sunnier, noisier parts of the country, and the select-site viewers it draws may find its complex plottings a tad obvious after a bit.
A mite bigger (but not much) than those four-corner burgs with three taverns and a gas station, this town has a Main Street and a couple perpendiculars and then immediately congeals into a mix of tidy white houses and borderline stand-ups. In one of these frugal-but-homey domains resides "A Simple Plan"'s touchstone couple -- hard-working, underpaid bookkeeper Hank (Paxton) and his pregnant wife (Bridget Fonda). Like every respectable little-town guy, Hank still has goofy friends from school days (of course, they're not too far away) including his simple-minded brother Jason Thornton) and his beer buddy Lou (Brent Briscoe). They're not the kind of duo that conscientious Hank should hang out with.
Against his big-brotherish better judgment, Hank gets together with the pair one late-winter afternoon and, naturally, they get in trouble. After an auto mishap, they wander into the woods and trip upon a crashed private plane. No one knows it's there (the pilot is dead), and it's carrying a suitcase with $440,000 in cash. What to do? Good-guy Hank has the urge to do the right thing. But he is outvoted: His brother and buddy decide to keep the dough. After all, who will know?
Narratively, "A Simple Plan" is one of those philosophical/narrative constructs structured around a "what if"-type happenstance -- namely the opportunity to do something unbelievably prosperous with little chance of getting caught. Unfortunately, screenwriter Scott B. Smith's scenario is decidedly predictable, and we soon catch on to the trio's antics and outcome. There are some plot inconsistencies and motivations that diminish the story line. Nevertheless, the film is layered with canny moral underpinnings that make for provocative questions.
Overall, "A Simple Plan" is highlighted by the superb acting. Thornton is moving as a simple-minded middle American; he's sympathetic and maddening. Paxton exudes complexity as the fair-minded brother. Briscoe is smartly startling as the frantic friend.
Technical contributions are well realized, particularly cinematographer Alar Kivilo's stark lensing that illuminates the complex moral ambiguities in the story. Also, special praise to production designer Patrizia Von Brandenstein for the shrewd and perceptive layout.
A SIMPLE PLAN
Paramount Pictures
Mutual Film Co.
In association with Savoy Pictures
A Sam Raimi film
Producers: James Jacks, Adam Schroeder
Director: Sam Raimi
Screenwriter: Scott B. Smith
Executive producers: Gary Levinsohn, Mark Gordon
Co-producer: Michael Polaire
Based upon the novel by: Scott B. Smith
Director of photography: Alar Kivilo
Production design: Patrizia Von Brandenstein
Editors: Arthur Coburn, Eric Beason
Costume design: Julie Weiss
Music: Danny Elfman
Casting: Ilene Starger
Sound mixer: Ed Novick
Color/stereo
Cast:
Hank: Bill Paxton
Sarah: Bridget Fonda
Jacob: Billy Bob Thornton
Lou: Brent Briscoe
Tom Butler: Jack Walsh
Carl: Chelcie Ross
Nancy: Becky Ann Baker
Running time -- 121 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
Flecked with the sparse, rich detail of rural Minnesota, this well-made drama unfortunately lurches into motivational lapses under the girth of its trip-wire plotting. Still, "A Simple Plan" is filled with ample pleasures, most prominently Thornton's addled and endearing portrayal of -- you'll never believe this -- a rube simpleton.
High-coastal cognoscenti who have formed their opinion of the Midwest through the Coen brothers' fractured frivolities will possibly be disappointed by this starkly naturalistic and chillingly accurate depiction of small-town life -- which is likely to harvest some initial interest on the select-site circuit, primarily in the upper Midwest. But this dimly scoped drama may be unappealing in the sunnier, noisier parts of the country, and the select-site viewers it draws may find its complex plottings a tad obvious after a bit.
A mite bigger (but not much) than those four-corner burgs with three taverns and a gas station, this town has a Main Street and a couple perpendiculars and then immediately congeals into a mix of tidy white houses and borderline stand-ups. In one of these frugal-but-homey domains resides "A Simple Plan"'s touchstone couple -- hard-working, underpaid bookkeeper Hank (Paxton) and his pregnant wife (Bridget Fonda). Like every respectable little-town guy, Hank still has goofy friends from school days (of course, they're not too far away) including his simple-minded brother Jason Thornton) and his beer buddy Lou (Brent Briscoe). They're not the kind of duo that conscientious Hank should hang out with.
Against his big-brotherish better judgment, Hank gets together with the pair one late-winter afternoon and, naturally, they get in trouble. After an auto mishap, they wander into the woods and trip upon a crashed private plane. No one knows it's there (the pilot is dead), and it's carrying a suitcase with $440,000 in cash. What to do? Good-guy Hank has the urge to do the right thing. But he is outvoted: His brother and buddy decide to keep the dough. After all, who will know?
Narratively, "A Simple Plan" is one of those philosophical/narrative constructs structured around a "what if"-type happenstance -- namely the opportunity to do something unbelievably prosperous with little chance of getting caught. Unfortunately, screenwriter Scott B. Smith's scenario is decidedly predictable, and we soon catch on to the trio's antics and outcome. There are some plot inconsistencies and motivations that diminish the story line. Nevertheless, the film is layered with canny moral underpinnings that make for provocative questions.
Overall, "A Simple Plan" is highlighted by the superb acting. Thornton is moving as a simple-minded middle American; he's sympathetic and maddening. Paxton exudes complexity as the fair-minded brother. Briscoe is smartly startling as the frantic friend.
Technical contributions are well realized, particularly cinematographer Alar Kivilo's stark lensing that illuminates the complex moral ambiguities in the story. Also, special praise to production designer Patrizia Von Brandenstein for the shrewd and perceptive layout.
A SIMPLE PLAN
Paramount Pictures
Mutual Film Co.
In association with Savoy Pictures
A Sam Raimi film
Producers: James Jacks, Adam Schroeder
Director: Sam Raimi
Screenwriter: Scott B. Smith
Executive producers: Gary Levinsohn, Mark Gordon
Co-producer: Michael Polaire
Based upon the novel by: Scott B. Smith
Director of photography: Alar Kivilo
Production design: Patrizia Von Brandenstein
Editors: Arthur Coburn, Eric Beason
Costume design: Julie Weiss
Music: Danny Elfman
Casting: Ilene Starger
Sound mixer: Ed Novick
Color/stereo
Cast:
Hank: Bill Paxton
Sarah: Bridget Fonda
Jacob: Billy Bob Thornton
Lou: Brent Briscoe
Tom Butler: Jack Walsh
Carl: Chelcie Ross
Nancy: Becky Ann Baker
Running time -- 121 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 12/9/1998
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
The problem with doing a parody of Quentin Tarantino movies is that the filmmaker has already inspired an onslaught of inferior copycats that have beaten, albeit unintentionally, "Plump Fiction" to the punch line.
While the Rhino Films debut production is not without its pointedly amusing moments, this is the kind of stuff that more effectively lends itself to a segment of "Saturday Night Live" or "Mad TV" -- not to mention the three-minute "Swing Blade", the Billy Bob Thornton-meets-"Swingers" parody short that will precede it in theaters. Even a Mel Brooks or a Zucker brother would be hard-pressed to sustain the humor over a feature-length running time.
Expect marginal college-town, midnight-movie business.
A goofy blending of Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction" and "Reservoir Dogs" (known here as "Reservoir Nuns") with a little Oliver Stone added to the mix, the hit-and-miss spoof follows the intertwining paths of exterminator/hit men Jimmy Paul Dinello) and Julius (Tommy Davidson) doing the John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson thing. Along the way they meet up with Mimi (Julie Brown), the food-addicted wife of feared crime boss Montello (Robert Costanza), not to mention "Natural Blonde Killers" Nicky Matthew Glave) and Vallory (Pamela Segall), who do some wicked "Stone" throwing.
Among the more inspired bits is the Independent Cafe, the picture's take-off on Jack Rabbit Slim's, which is populated by familiar characters from the world of indie film. It's presided over by hostess Priscilla, Queen of the Desserts (Tim Kazurinsky) and highlighted by a mute waitress fresh out of "The Piano" (Molly O'Leary) with Kane Picoy doing a killer Christopher Walken. Lezlie Deane, meanwhile, skewers Jodie Foster's "Nell" with a devastatingly dead-on impression.
Being a former comic, writer-director Bob satirical instinct is fairly sharp, but his timing is way off. This type of material needs to be delivered in blink-and-you'll-miss-it triple time rather than attempting to emulate Tarantino's characteristically deliberate pacing.
As a result, viewers will find themselves pining for a fast-forward button. Given what will most likely be a tiny theatrical window, they should soon have their wish.
PLUMP FICTION
Legacy Releasing
A Rhino Films production
Director-screenwriter:Bob Koherr
Producer:Gary Binkow
Executive producer:Stephen Nemeth
Director of photography:Rex Nicholson
Production designer:Jacques Herbert
Editor:Neil Kirk
Costume designer:Vincent Lapper
Music:Michael Muhlfriedel
Color/stereo
Cast:
Julius:Tommy Davidson
Mimi:Julie Brown
Jimmy:Paul Dinello
Bunny Roberts:Sandra Bernhard
Bumpkin:Dan Castellaneta
Viv:Colleen Camp
Running time -- 85 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
While the Rhino Films debut production is not without its pointedly amusing moments, this is the kind of stuff that more effectively lends itself to a segment of "Saturday Night Live" or "Mad TV" -- not to mention the three-minute "Swing Blade", the Billy Bob Thornton-meets-"Swingers" parody short that will precede it in theaters. Even a Mel Brooks or a Zucker brother would be hard-pressed to sustain the humor over a feature-length running time.
Expect marginal college-town, midnight-movie business.
A goofy blending of Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction" and "Reservoir Dogs" (known here as "Reservoir Nuns") with a little Oliver Stone added to the mix, the hit-and-miss spoof follows the intertwining paths of exterminator/hit men Jimmy Paul Dinello) and Julius (Tommy Davidson) doing the John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson thing. Along the way they meet up with Mimi (Julie Brown), the food-addicted wife of feared crime boss Montello (Robert Costanza), not to mention "Natural Blonde Killers" Nicky Matthew Glave) and Vallory (Pamela Segall), who do some wicked "Stone" throwing.
Among the more inspired bits is the Independent Cafe, the picture's take-off on Jack Rabbit Slim's, which is populated by familiar characters from the world of indie film. It's presided over by hostess Priscilla, Queen of the Desserts (Tim Kazurinsky) and highlighted by a mute waitress fresh out of "The Piano" (Molly O'Leary) with Kane Picoy doing a killer Christopher Walken. Lezlie Deane, meanwhile, skewers Jodie Foster's "Nell" with a devastatingly dead-on impression.
Being a former comic, writer-director Bob satirical instinct is fairly sharp, but his timing is way off. This type of material needs to be delivered in blink-and-you'll-miss-it triple time rather than attempting to emulate Tarantino's characteristically deliberate pacing.
As a result, viewers will find themselves pining for a fast-forward button. Given what will most likely be a tiny theatrical window, they should soon have their wish.
PLUMP FICTION
Legacy Releasing
A Rhino Films production
Director-screenwriter:Bob Koherr
Producer:Gary Binkow
Executive producer:Stephen Nemeth
Director of photography:Rex Nicholson
Production designer:Jacques Herbert
Editor:Neil Kirk
Costume designer:Vincent Lapper
Music:Michael Muhlfriedel
Color/stereo
Cast:
Julius:Tommy Davidson
Mimi:Julie Brown
Jimmy:Paul Dinello
Bunny Roberts:Sandra Bernhard
Bumpkin:Dan Castellaneta
Viv:Colleen Camp
Running time -- 85 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 5/14/1998
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
TriStar's "Homegrown", which opened in Seattle and surrounding areas last weekend, is a surprisingly good comedy caper set in California's woodsy Humboldt County, where local cultivators of marijuana plants hire adventuresome types to guard and tend their multimillion-dollar crops on secret "plantations."
With a trio of hot actors -- Billy Bob Thornton, Hank Azaria and Ryan Phillippe -- as the grungy leads and a sharp, believable script co-written by director Stephen Gyllenhaal ("Losing Isaiah") and Nicholas Kazan based on a story by Gyllenhaal and Jonah Raskin, "Homegrown" should cultivate a sizable following in urban situations and harvest more fans when it lights up in the cable and video markets.
Not at all silly or slapstick in the tradition of past "stoner" films but not overly violent or judgmental in the fashion of downer drug movies, "Homegrown" is more akin in ambition to such classics as "The Killing" and "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre."
This approach works most of the time, with humor arising from the earthy characters and the paranoid milieu providing a steady increase of tension with nifty payoffs. There's sex, violence and rock 'n' roll, but the modestly budgeted project also has many choice lines and offbeat moments that keep one intrigued and entertained even through a few rough spots.
With insight into the ins and outs of making a big deal, matter-of-fact details about "trimming" and bagging the "buds" for transport and sale, and evocative sequences of guarding the potent product in rainy, secluded outposts, "Homegrown" is a sometimes startling look at a mysterious subculture that combines 1960s "radical" values of preserving the land and getting high all the time with 1990s-style greed and erosion of morals.
The film opens with the shocking murder of longtime "grower" Malcolm (John Lithgow) near his ranch, witnessed by his hired hands Jack (Thornton), Carter (Azaria) and Harlan (Phillippe). The nervous trio expect the worst, but the illegal crop worth millions is strangely left untouched.
They decide to cut down a few dozen plants and leave for town in a hurry, where Carter's sometime girlfriend Lucy (Kelly Lynch) takes them in. A regular "packager" for Malcolm, Lucy agrees to help the guys when Jack lies about who the pot belongs to and why it's being sold.
A charade ensues, with Jack covering up Malcolm's disappearance by partially assuming his identity and returning phone calls. There is a central mystery -- who had Malcolm killed? -- that baffles and worries the three, but they go ahead with a plan to harvest the whole farm and almost get away with it.
The strong supporting cast includes Jon Bon Jovi as a slick "buyer," Jon Tenney as a vicious assassin who terrorizes the principals in a wild sequence, Judge Reinhold as a corrupt sheriff and Jamie Lee Curtis as the regal, cagey leader of the entrenched regional entrepreneurs.
HOMEGROWN
Sony Pictures
TriStar Pictures
In association with Lakeshore Entertainment
A Rollercoaster Films production
Director: Stephen Gyllenhaal
Producer: Jason Clark
Screenwriters: Nicholas Kazan,
Stephen Gyllenhaal
Executive producers: Tom Rosenberg,
Sigurjon Sighvatsson, Ted Tannebaum,
Naomi Foner
Director of photography: Greg Gardiner
Production designer: Richard Sherman
Editor: Michael Jablow
Costume designer: Joseph Porro
Music: Trevor Rabin
Casting: Linda Lowy, John Brace
Color/stereo
Cast:
Jack: Billy Bob Thornton
Carter: Hank Azaria
Harlan: Ryan Phillippe
Lucy: Kelly Lynch
Malcolm/Robert: John Lithgow
Danny: Jon Bon Jovi
Running time -- 98 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
With a trio of hot actors -- Billy Bob Thornton, Hank Azaria and Ryan Phillippe -- as the grungy leads and a sharp, believable script co-written by director Stephen Gyllenhaal ("Losing Isaiah") and Nicholas Kazan based on a story by Gyllenhaal and Jonah Raskin, "Homegrown" should cultivate a sizable following in urban situations and harvest more fans when it lights up in the cable and video markets.
Not at all silly or slapstick in the tradition of past "stoner" films but not overly violent or judgmental in the fashion of downer drug movies, "Homegrown" is more akin in ambition to such classics as "The Killing" and "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre."
This approach works most of the time, with humor arising from the earthy characters and the paranoid milieu providing a steady increase of tension with nifty payoffs. There's sex, violence and rock 'n' roll, but the modestly budgeted project also has many choice lines and offbeat moments that keep one intrigued and entertained even through a few rough spots.
With insight into the ins and outs of making a big deal, matter-of-fact details about "trimming" and bagging the "buds" for transport and sale, and evocative sequences of guarding the potent product in rainy, secluded outposts, "Homegrown" is a sometimes startling look at a mysterious subculture that combines 1960s "radical" values of preserving the land and getting high all the time with 1990s-style greed and erosion of morals.
The film opens with the shocking murder of longtime "grower" Malcolm (John Lithgow) near his ranch, witnessed by his hired hands Jack (Thornton), Carter (Azaria) and Harlan (Phillippe). The nervous trio expect the worst, but the illegal crop worth millions is strangely left untouched.
They decide to cut down a few dozen plants and leave for town in a hurry, where Carter's sometime girlfriend Lucy (Kelly Lynch) takes them in. A regular "packager" for Malcolm, Lucy agrees to help the guys when Jack lies about who the pot belongs to and why it's being sold.
A charade ensues, with Jack covering up Malcolm's disappearance by partially assuming his identity and returning phone calls. There is a central mystery -- who had Malcolm killed? -- that baffles and worries the three, but they go ahead with a plan to harvest the whole farm and almost get away with it.
The strong supporting cast includes Jon Bon Jovi as a slick "buyer," Jon Tenney as a vicious assassin who terrorizes the principals in a wild sequence, Judge Reinhold as a corrupt sheriff and Jamie Lee Curtis as the regal, cagey leader of the entrenched regional entrepreneurs.
HOMEGROWN
Sony Pictures
TriStar Pictures
In association with Lakeshore Entertainment
A Rollercoaster Films production
Director: Stephen Gyllenhaal
Producer: Jason Clark
Screenwriters: Nicholas Kazan,
Stephen Gyllenhaal
Executive producers: Tom Rosenberg,
Sigurjon Sighvatsson, Ted Tannebaum,
Naomi Foner
Director of photography: Greg Gardiner
Production designer: Richard Sherman
Editor: Michael Jablow
Costume designer: Joseph Porro
Music: Trevor Rabin
Casting: Linda Lowy, John Brace
Color/stereo
Cast:
Jack: Billy Bob Thornton
Carter: Hank Azaria
Harlan: Ryan Phillippe
Lucy: Kelly Lynch
Malcolm/Robert: John Lithgow
Danny: Jon Bon Jovi
Running time -- 98 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 4/22/1998
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
John Travolta presses the flesh in all its current presidential connotations in "Primary Colors", an enthralling, entertaining slant on the Clinton quest for the Oval Office.
Chock-full of doughnuts and drawl, Travolta's performance, together with Emma Thompson's pithy portrayal of a Hillary-esque mate, should lure sophisticated audiences to this Mike Nichols-directed film. Universal's chief marketing challenge will be to rally an electorate that is, perhaps, already sated and OD'd on news of the president's myriad marital infidelities. Still, come election time next year -- we're talking Oscar votes -- both Travolta and Thompson are likely to be leading contenders for their respective categories' nominations. It's easily the funniest and, perhaps, most cynical portrait of a political campaign since "The Candidate", in which Robert Redford starred as a pretty-boy candidate who had nothing on the ball but media allure.
In this "fictional" scenario, only the names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent: Travolta stars as Jack Stanton, an ambitious governor of a Southern hick state who has decided to buck the odds and run for president. Based on the novel "Primary Colors" by Anonymous (a k a Joe Klein), "Primary Colors" takes to the narrative trail as the idealistic governor and his equally ambitious wife Susan (Thompson) begin their underdog and unlikely quest for the presidency. Prismed through the viewpoint of a conscientious young black campaign manager, Henry (Adrian Lester), who thinks the pragmatic, populist Stanton has a real chance at winning but who chafes at the candidate's personal practices, "Primary Colors" is, by extension, shrewdly positioned to look at both sides of the presidential posture here. It is at once laudatory and almost fawning over the candidate's genuine concern for common, everyday people, while at the same time it disapproves of the increasingly hardball nature of the Stanton campaign camp, as well as the candidate's propensity to, seemingly, bed every woman in range.
You'd probably have to go on a location shoot to find a more mixed bag of people than on a political campaign, especially one as contradictory as a liberal from a small Southern state running for president. To say that the Stanton campaign is made up of colorful characters is an understatement, beginning with the Carville-esque Richard Billy Bob Thornton), a sly "redneck" strategist who comes across as some sort of lefty Hunter Thompson, and troubleshooter Libby (Kathy Bates), an old Razorback friend who's done a stint in a mental home and packs a big gun, literally. In its most rollicksome, "Primary Colors" filmically resembles some sort of "Bad News Bears" on the road as the scrappy batch of outsider/Dixie underdogs take on all the big Fat Cats and political machines cross-country, including most challengingly "New Yawk".
At its most revealing, "Primary Colors" rolls with a telling back-of-the-bus, inside-the-motel feel, cluing us to the inside workings of a shoestring, but wondrously successful, political campaign.
There's no denying the appeal and charisma of candidate Stanton. His concerns for the "little guy" are genuine, and he becomes teary-eyed, seemingly, daily over their woes. Such compassion almost seems wasted by running for office -- this guy would make a great mortician, grieving sincerely over every deceased "customer."
Unfortunately, this is only one side of the candidate's coin; the other side reveals an almost pathological need to cohabit with any and every skirt in sight, despite the fact that it pains his stalwart wife terribly. In Elaine May's perceptive screenplay, it's almost as if this guy has a narcissistic, psychological need to screw up (we use this term in varied senses) so that he can rally his personality to once again win everyone's love. And this smart reel-lifer shows up-close what the real-life polls have been telling us -- he rises from the ashes of each encounter. Like "Titanic", we all know the ending going in, but it's in the hurly-burly of the quest itself that is most entertaining and illuminating.
The performances are splendid, beginning with Travolta's magnificent turn as the big-hearted but hardballing man with 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. on his horizon. Travolta balances Stanton's contradictions, the type of guy who at the end of a punishing jog finds himself seated at the doughnut shop, talking politics to the counter man. There's a telling, marvelously composed scene of the candidate sitting alone in the wee small hours, downing apple fritters and empathizing with Danny, the handicapped counter man. You can't help but like this man -- a credit to Travolta's winning style that does great honor to the Man in the White House.
As Susan, the supportive-to-a-fault, enabler wife who wears the pants in the family (and keeps them on), Thompson's performance is also an astute balancing act, conveying both the steely nature of her character as well as the anguish she goes through in private. The "Bubba Brigade" itself is a terrific mix, beginning with Lester's measured performance in the touchstone part, the young man whose ambivalence about his leader is both painful and inspiring. Thornton is perfect as the wily, sharp-shooting strategist, while Caroline Aaron is terrifically scary as Susan's loudmouthed, buttinsky friend. Larry Hagman is stirring as a decent governor who has been felled by personal problems from the past, and Bates is perfectly pugnacious as a not-so-good ol' gal. Praise to casting directors Juliet Taylor, Ellen Lewis and Juel Bestrop for these fitting selections.
The technical bunting is a perfect, Southern-fried smear of red, white and blue, beginning with Michael Ballhaus' evocative compositions and colorations as well as Bo Welch's down and lofty production design. Ry Cooder's raucous and haunting music is a fitting blend of Southern discomfort, while costume designer Ann Roth's fabrics bring out the personal flavors on this rag-tag, history-making trek.
PRIMARY COLORS
Universal Pictures
Mutual Film Co.
Director and producer: Mike Nichols
Screenplay: Elaine May
Based on the novel by: Anonymous
Executive producers: Neil Machlis,
Jonathan D. Krane
Director of photography: Michael Ballhaus
Production designer: Bo Welch
Editor: Arthur Schmidt
Music: Ry Cooder
Costume designer: Ann Roth
Casting: Juliet Taylor, Ellen Lewis, Juel Bestrop
Co-producer: Michele Imperato
Associate producer: Michael Haley
Supervising sound editor: Ron Bochar
Color/stereo
Cast:
Gov. Jack Stanton: John Travolta
Susan Stanton: Emma Thompson
Richard Jemmons: Billy Bob Thornton
Libby Holden: Kathy Bates
Henry Burton: Adrian Lester
Daisy: Maura Tierney
Gov. Fred Picker: Larry Hagman
Mamma Stanton: Diane Ladd
Howard Ferguson: Paul Guilfoyle
March: Rebecca Walker
Lucille Kaufman: Caroline Aaron
Running time -- 134 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
Chock-full of doughnuts and drawl, Travolta's performance, together with Emma Thompson's pithy portrayal of a Hillary-esque mate, should lure sophisticated audiences to this Mike Nichols-directed film. Universal's chief marketing challenge will be to rally an electorate that is, perhaps, already sated and OD'd on news of the president's myriad marital infidelities. Still, come election time next year -- we're talking Oscar votes -- both Travolta and Thompson are likely to be leading contenders for their respective categories' nominations. It's easily the funniest and, perhaps, most cynical portrait of a political campaign since "The Candidate", in which Robert Redford starred as a pretty-boy candidate who had nothing on the ball but media allure.
In this "fictional" scenario, only the names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent: Travolta stars as Jack Stanton, an ambitious governor of a Southern hick state who has decided to buck the odds and run for president. Based on the novel "Primary Colors" by Anonymous (a k a Joe Klein), "Primary Colors" takes to the narrative trail as the idealistic governor and his equally ambitious wife Susan (Thompson) begin their underdog and unlikely quest for the presidency. Prismed through the viewpoint of a conscientious young black campaign manager, Henry (Adrian Lester), who thinks the pragmatic, populist Stanton has a real chance at winning but who chafes at the candidate's personal practices, "Primary Colors" is, by extension, shrewdly positioned to look at both sides of the presidential posture here. It is at once laudatory and almost fawning over the candidate's genuine concern for common, everyday people, while at the same time it disapproves of the increasingly hardball nature of the Stanton campaign camp, as well as the candidate's propensity to, seemingly, bed every woman in range.
You'd probably have to go on a location shoot to find a more mixed bag of people than on a political campaign, especially one as contradictory as a liberal from a small Southern state running for president. To say that the Stanton campaign is made up of colorful characters is an understatement, beginning with the Carville-esque Richard Billy Bob Thornton), a sly "redneck" strategist who comes across as some sort of lefty Hunter Thompson, and troubleshooter Libby (Kathy Bates), an old Razorback friend who's done a stint in a mental home and packs a big gun, literally. In its most rollicksome, "Primary Colors" filmically resembles some sort of "Bad News Bears" on the road as the scrappy batch of outsider/Dixie underdogs take on all the big Fat Cats and political machines cross-country, including most challengingly "New Yawk".
At its most revealing, "Primary Colors" rolls with a telling back-of-the-bus, inside-the-motel feel, cluing us to the inside workings of a shoestring, but wondrously successful, political campaign.
There's no denying the appeal and charisma of candidate Stanton. His concerns for the "little guy" are genuine, and he becomes teary-eyed, seemingly, daily over their woes. Such compassion almost seems wasted by running for office -- this guy would make a great mortician, grieving sincerely over every deceased "customer."
Unfortunately, this is only one side of the candidate's coin; the other side reveals an almost pathological need to cohabit with any and every skirt in sight, despite the fact that it pains his stalwart wife terribly. In Elaine May's perceptive screenplay, it's almost as if this guy has a narcissistic, psychological need to screw up (we use this term in varied senses) so that he can rally his personality to once again win everyone's love. And this smart reel-lifer shows up-close what the real-life polls have been telling us -- he rises from the ashes of each encounter. Like "Titanic", we all know the ending going in, but it's in the hurly-burly of the quest itself that is most entertaining and illuminating.
The performances are splendid, beginning with Travolta's magnificent turn as the big-hearted but hardballing man with 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. on his horizon. Travolta balances Stanton's contradictions, the type of guy who at the end of a punishing jog finds himself seated at the doughnut shop, talking politics to the counter man. There's a telling, marvelously composed scene of the candidate sitting alone in the wee small hours, downing apple fritters and empathizing with Danny, the handicapped counter man. You can't help but like this man -- a credit to Travolta's winning style that does great honor to the Man in the White House.
As Susan, the supportive-to-a-fault, enabler wife who wears the pants in the family (and keeps them on), Thompson's performance is also an astute balancing act, conveying both the steely nature of her character as well as the anguish she goes through in private. The "Bubba Brigade" itself is a terrific mix, beginning with Lester's measured performance in the touchstone part, the young man whose ambivalence about his leader is both painful and inspiring. Thornton is perfect as the wily, sharp-shooting strategist, while Caroline Aaron is terrifically scary as Susan's loudmouthed, buttinsky friend. Larry Hagman is stirring as a decent governor who has been felled by personal problems from the past, and Bates is perfectly pugnacious as a not-so-good ol' gal. Praise to casting directors Juliet Taylor, Ellen Lewis and Juel Bestrop for these fitting selections.
The technical bunting is a perfect, Southern-fried smear of red, white and blue, beginning with Michael Ballhaus' evocative compositions and colorations as well as Bo Welch's down and lofty production design. Ry Cooder's raucous and haunting music is a fitting blend of Southern discomfort, while costume designer Ann Roth's fabrics bring out the personal flavors on this rag-tag, history-making trek.
PRIMARY COLORS
Universal Pictures
Mutual Film Co.
Director and producer: Mike Nichols
Screenplay: Elaine May
Based on the novel by: Anonymous
Executive producers: Neil Machlis,
Jonathan D. Krane
Director of photography: Michael Ballhaus
Production designer: Bo Welch
Editor: Arthur Schmidt
Music: Ry Cooder
Costume designer: Ann Roth
Casting: Juliet Taylor, Ellen Lewis, Juel Bestrop
Co-producer: Michele Imperato
Associate producer: Michael Haley
Supervising sound editor: Ron Bochar
Color/stereo
Cast:
Gov. Jack Stanton: John Travolta
Susan Stanton: Emma Thompson
Richard Jemmons: Billy Bob Thornton
Libby Holden: Kathy Bates
Henry Burton: Adrian Lester
Daisy: Maura Tierney
Gov. Fred Picker: Larry Hagman
Mamma Stanton: Diane Ladd
Howard Ferguson: Paul Guilfoyle
March: Rebecca Walker
Lucille Kaufman: Caroline Aaron
Running time -- 134 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 3/13/1998
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Like Elvis, preacher Eulis, a k a the Apostle E.F., was influenced by the black Baptist church in the Deep South. But instead of honing his singing skills via the grand, gospel music he heard, Eulis developed his preaching skills along the exuberant interchanges between preacher and congregation.
He became quite a hit on the tent-preaching circuit at age 12, and in this stirring, complex portrait of a charismatic evangelist, Robert Duvall gives testimony to his towering acting skills. Unveiled as a special presentation at the Toronto International Film Festival, "The Apostle" is a wise and inspiring film.
Lo, should October Films unveileth "The Aspostle" for seven days in the City of Angels at year's end, it will surely reap a bounteous best actor Oscar nomination for Duvall. Verily.
A jarringly rich and complex depiction of down-home religion as well as the psychological makeup of a wayward man, "The Apostle" is a stirring story. It's a tale of sin and redemption and, owing to the nature of its lead character, it's also about sex. All the major biblical stuff. It centers on a man who has trouble keeping on God's path; indeed, he's a sinner of gross proportion. While mesmeric and in control at the altar, Eulis' doctrinaire, hard-headed stubbornness hurts him in relations with his flock, principally his wife (Farrah Fawcett) and his congregation. After running out of forgiveness, they wrest the church from him. Worse, his wife takes up with a younger, kinder minister. Eulis doesn't turn the other cheek; he smashes the man with a baseball bat, puts him in a coma, and flees town.
Neither repentant of his crime nor diminished in his enthusiasm for spreading the Word, Eulis heads for Louisiana, landing in a mostly black bayou town. He truly believes that the Good Lord has pointed him there; in his conflicted torments, he still feels he's an instrument of God. In short, his faith is fueled not only by moral denial but megalomania as well.
Yet there's no denying Eulis' energy and his ability to inspire folk. He takes a new name, the Apostle E.F., and resurrects a small, black church from decay and despair. The cagey clergyman takes to the radio, inspiring folk all along the bayou. The white listeners think he's black; the blacks, of course, know better but appreciate his style.
A rollickingly perceptive study of man's need for community and religion as prismed through the imperfections of a doggedly devout man, "The Apostle" is a gloriously rich film. It is wisdom told through simple folk and, as such, it may suffer derision from the so-called sophisticates who look down their noses at the regenerative powers of basic religion. As its writer-director, Duvall's narrative sermonizing is a wonder. "The Apostle" is garbed in deliciously bold colors of human behavior, and Duvall's vision is enriched by an earthy sensibility. It courses with contradiction -- human weakness and human strength.
The story's power comes largely from the players. In addition to Duvall's transcendent performance, the entire congregation of players is outstanding. Particular praise goes to John Beasley as the retired preacher who takes E.F. in during his time of need. Fawcett is well-cast as his addled wife, while Miranda Richardson does a splendid turn as a woman smitten by the preacher man. As a redneck driving his Caterpillar toward his own personal Damascus, Billy Bob Thornton is a man of fire.
Technical contributions are a marvel, especially cinematographer Barry Markowitz's eloquently earthy compositions and music supervisor Peter Afterman's galvanic, gospel sounds.
THE APOSTLE
Butchers Run Films
Producer Rob Carliner
Screenwriter-director Robert Duvall
Executive producer Robert Duvall
Director of photography Barry Markowitz
Production designer Linda Burton
Editor Steve Mack
Music David Mansfield
Music supervisor Peter Afterman
Sound mixer Steve Aaron
Color/stereo
Cast:
Eulis/The Apostle E.F. Robert Duvall
Toosie Miranda Richardson
Jessie Dewey Farrah Fawcett
Brother Blackwell John Beasley
Mrs. Dewey Sr. June Carter Cash
Sam Walton Goggins
Joe Billy Joe Shaver
Troublemaker Billy Bob Thornton
Elmo Rick Dial
Running time -- 148 minutes
No MPAA rating...
He became quite a hit on the tent-preaching circuit at age 12, and in this stirring, complex portrait of a charismatic evangelist, Robert Duvall gives testimony to his towering acting skills. Unveiled as a special presentation at the Toronto International Film Festival, "The Apostle" is a wise and inspiring film.
Lo, should October Films unveileth "The Aspostle" for seven days in the City of Angels at year's end, it will surely reap a bounteous best actor Oscar nomination for Duvall. Verily.
A jarringly rich and complex depiction of down-home religion as well as the psychological makeup of a wayward man, "The Apostle" is a stirring story. It's a tale of sin and redemption and, owing to the nature of its lead character, it's also about sex. All the major biblical stuff. It centers on a man who has trouble keeping on God's path; indeed, he's a sinner of gross proportion. While mesmeric and in control at the altar, Eulis' doctrinaire, hard-headed stubbornness hurts him in relations with his flock, principally his wife (Farrah Fawcett) and his congregation. After running out of forgiveness, they wrest the church from him. Worse, his wife takes up with a younger, kinder minister. Eulis doesn't turn the other cheek; he smashes the man with a baseball bat, puts him in a coma, and flees town.
Neither repentant of his crime nor diminished in his enthusiasm for spreading the Word, Eulis heads for Louisiana, landing in a mostly black bayou town. He truly believes that the Good Lord has pointed him there; in his conflicted torments, he still feels he's an instrument of God. In short, his faith is fueled not only by moral denial but megalomania as well.
Yet there's no denying Eulis' energy and his ability to inspire folk. He takes a new name, the Apostle E.F., and resurrects a small, black church from decay and despair. The cagey clergyman takes to the radio, inspiring folk all along the bayou. The white listeners think he's black; the blacks, of course, know better but appreciate his style.
A rollickingly perceptive study of man's need for community and religion as prismed through the imperfections of a doggedly devout man, "The Apostle" is a gloriously rich film. It is wisdom told through simple folk and, as such, it may suffer derision from the so-called sophisticates who look down their noses at the regenerative powers of basic religion. As its writer-director, Duvall's narrative sermonizing is a wonder. "The Apostle" is garbed in deliciously bold colors of human behavior, and Duvall's vision is enriched by an earthy sensibility. It courses with contradiction -- human weakness and human strength.
The story's power comes largely from the players. In addition to Duvall's transcendent performance, the entire congregation of players is outstanding. Particular praise goes to John Beasley as the retired preacher who takes E.F. in during his time of need. Fawcett is well-cast as his addled wife, while Miranda Richardson does a splendid turn as a woman smitten by the preacher man. As a redneck driving his Caterpillar toward his own personal Damascus, Billy Bob Thornton is a man of fire.
Technical contributions are a marvel, especially cinematographer Barry Markowitz's eloquently earthy compositions and music supervisor Peter Afterman's galvanic, gospel sounds.
THE APOSTLE
Butchers Run Films
Producer Rob Carliner
Screenwriter-director Robert Duvall
Executive producer Robert Duvall
Director of photography Barry Markowitz
Production designer Linda Burton
Editor Steve Mack
Music David Mansfield
Music supervisor Peter Afterman
Sound mixer Steve Aaron
Color/stereo
Cast:
Eulis/The Apostle E.F. Robert Duvall
Toosie Miranda Richardson
Jessie Dewey Farrah Fawcett
Brother Blackwell John Beasley
Mrs. Dewey Sr. June Carter Cash
Sam Walton Goggins
Joe Billy Joe Shaver
Troublemaker Billy Bob Thornton
Elmo Rick Dial
Running time -- 148 minutes
No MPAA rating...
Oliver Stone has turned around with "U-Turn", a dicey noir that careens wild and tight like a good old-fashioned B movie. It's snub-nosed Stone, a raucous entertainment that doesn't aim for the philosophical or political fences. Laced with a dark, absurdist sensibility, the film will debut this weekend at Telluride and likely delight festivalgoers with its brash economy and raunchy swagger.
More akin to "After Hours" and "Choose Me" in its surreal mesh of genres and bizarre humor, "U-Turn" is wicked amusement. In tone and telling, it's most akin to the filmmaking of Luis Bunuel, rife with undercurrents of degeneracy and human avarice and crested with outrageous humor. Movie buffs in particular will savor "U-Turn", especially for Sean Penn's rascally lead performances as well as the deliriously apt performances of such others as Jennifer Lopez and Billy Bob Thornton.
In chassis and structure, the story is, basically an old-time Western as a mysterious stranger rides into a sleepy desert town. In this case, the chap is Bobby (Penn), not astride a horse but tooling smooth in his 1964 + red Mustang -- that is, until it blows a hose and he's beholden to the local blacksmith, er, mechanic to get it fixed.
The grease monkey (Thornton) is a strange bird, golden-teethed and downright screwy; to boot, he knows he's got Bobby over a barrel. It's gonna take awhile, and it's gonna be expensive.
Bobby has time to kill, an unwelcome respite since the Vegas loan shark he's in hock to has threatened to kill him if he doesn't show up with his gambling debut; natch, he doesn't have the dough. When he wanders into town, he encounters a dirt-crazy bunch of yokels and it doesn't take him long to get butt-deep in hot water.
The trouble comes in the beauteous form of the local femme fatale, Grace (Jennifer Lopez). She's a sizzler and it's downright obvious that her sexuality is her Trump Card, and she has her geezer of a hubby (Nick Nolte) whipped into a dither with paranoid jealousy. Right away, Bobby is in the thick of things in this parched little outpost.
Crackling with juicy dialogue and ambling up all the right, wrong roads, John Ridley's screenplay is a smartly lubricated blend of genre parts. It keeps us on our heels and more than a little on-edge in where it's going -- in short, darn good storytelling. Although no one has ever accused Stone of having a light, comic touch, it's obvious he has a bizarre sense of irony and has forged here a crisp and wickedly funny entertainment. There is beneath its raw trappings, however, a deeper tale -- how far will a basically honest and decent person go when backed up against a wall, or trapped in a stifling dust bowl of a town? As you would guess in a Stone movie, they go to the limit -- or just past.
What makes "U-Turn" special, though, is the characters, as sidewinding a bunch of varmints as you would ever want to encounter. As Bobby, our touchstone character, Penn is terrific. Rough-edged, sympathetic and cunning, all at once. As the squirrelly auto mechanic, Thornton is hilarious and scary all at once, while Nolte is perfect as the young beauty's bedeviled husband. Jon Voight does an eerie turn as a blind man. But it's Lopez's wickedly wenchy performance as the femme fatale that is the lynchpin for all the craziness and all the conflicts: It's her sexuality, we see, that sets off all the explosions in this twisted little town. In short, there is great casting, a credit to casting director Mary Vernieu.
Technically, "U-Turn" is superb, as cinematographer Robert Richardson's acidic, parched hues clue us to the inner roilings of the characters, while Victor Kempster's smart, off-center production design is aptly both odd and scary.
Similarly, the herky-jerky, jump-cut punctuation is perfect. Hats off to editors Hank Corwin and Thomas J. Nordberg for the crafty cadence. As an added bonus, composer Ennio Morricone orchestrated the sounds for this spaghetti-based Southwestern. Properly, the music is more toned to the bad and the ugly than the good.
U-TURN
Sony Releasing
TriStar Pictures
Phoenix Pictures presents
an Illusion Entertainment Group production
in association with Clyde Is Hungry Films
An Oliver Stone movie
Producers Dan Halsted, Clayton Townsend
Director Oliver Stone
Screenwriter John Ridley
Based on "Stray Dogs" by John Ridley
Executive producer John Ridley
Director of photography Robert Richardson
Production designer Victor Kempster
Editors Hank Corwin, Thomas J. Nordberg
Executive music producer Budd Carr
Music Ennio Morricone
Costume designer Beatrix Aruna Pasztor
Co-producer Richard Rutowski
Casting Mary Vernieu
Sound mixer Gary Alper
Color/stereo
Cast:
Bobby Cooper Sean Penn
Darrell Billy Bob Thornton
Blind Man Jon Voight
Grace McKenna Jennifer Lopez
Sheriff Potter Powers Boothe
Jake McKenna Nick Nolte
Ed Bo Hopkins
Flo Julie Hagerty
Toby N. Tucker Joaquin Phoenix
Running time -- 125 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
More akin to "After Hours" and "Choose Me" in its surreal mesh of genres and bizarre humor, "U-Turn" is wicked amusement. In tone and telling, it's most akin to the filmmaking of Luis Bunuel, rife with undercurrents of degeneracy and human avarice and crested with outrageous humor. Movie buffs in particular will savor "U-Turn", especially for Sean Penn's rascally lead performances as well as the deliriously apt performances of such others as Jennifer Lopez and Billy Bob Thornton.
In chassis and structure, the story is, basically an old-time Western as a mysterious stranger rides into a sleepy desert town. In this case, the chap is Bobby (Penn), not astride a horse but tooling smooth in his 1964 + red Mustang -- that is, until it blows a hose and he's beholden to the local blacksmith, er, mechanic to get it fixed.
The grease monkey (Thornton) is a strange bird, golden-teethed and downright screwy; to boot, he knows he's got Bobby over a barrel. It's gonna take awhile, and it's gonna be expensive.
Bobby has time to kill, an unwelcome respite since the Vegas loan shark he's in hock to has threatened to kill him if he doesn't show up with his gambling debut; natch, he doesn't have the dough. When he wanders into town, he encounters a dirt-crazy bunch of yokels and it doesn't take him long to get butt-deep in hot water.
The trouble comes in the beauteous form of the local femme fatale, Grace (Jennifer Lopez). She's a sizzler and it's downright obvious that her sexuality is her Trump Card, and she has her geezer of a hubby (Nick Nolte) whipped into a dither with paranoid jealousy. Right away, Bobby is in the thick of things in this parched little outpost.
Crackling with juicy dialogue and ambling up all the right, wrong roads, John Ridley's screenplay is a smartly lubricated blend of genre parts. It keeps us on our heels and more than a little on-edge in where it's going -- in short, darn good storytelling. Although no one has ever accused Stone of having a light, comic touch, it's obvious he has a bizarre sense of irony and has forged here a crisp and wickedly funny entertainment. There is beneath its raw trappings, however, a deeper tale -- how far will a basically honest and decent person go when backed up against a wall, or trapped in a stifling dust bowl of a town? As you would guess in a Stone movie, they go to the limit -- or just past.
What makes "U-Turn" special, though, is the characters, as sidewinding a bunch of varmints as you would ever want to encounter. As Bobby, our touchstone character, Penn is terrific. Rough-edged, sympathetic and cunning, all at once. As the squirrelly auto mechanic, Thornton is hilarious and scary all at once, while Nolte is perfect as the young beauty's bedeviled husband. Jon Voight does an eerie turn as a blind man. But it's Lopez's wickedly wenchy performance as the femme fatale that is the lynchpin for all the craziness and all the conflicts: It's her sexuality, we see, that sets off all the explosions in this twisted little town. In short, there is great casting, a credit to casting director Mary Vernieu.
Technically, "U-Turn" is superb, as cinematographer Robert Richardson's acidic, parched hues clue us to the inner roilings of the characters, while Victor Kempster's smart, off-center production design is aptly both odd and scary.
Similarly, the herky-jerky, jump-cut punctuation is perfect. Hats off to editors Hank Corwin and Thomas J. Nordberg for the crafty cadence. As an added bonus, composer Ennio Morricone orchestrated the sounds for this spaghetti-based Southwestern. Properly, the music is more toned to the bad and the ugly than the good.
U-TURN
Sony Releasing
TriStar Pictures
Phoenix Pictures presents
an Illusion Entertainment Group production
in association with Clyde Is Hungry Films
An Oliver Stone movie
Producers Dan Halsted, Clayton Townsend
Director Oliver Stone
Screenwriter John Ridley
Based on "Stray Dogs" by John Ridley
Executive producer John Ridley
Director of photography Robert Richardson
Production designer Victor Kempster
Editors Hank Corwin, Thomas J. Nordberg
Executive music producer Budd Carr
Music Ennio Morricone
Costume designer Beatrix Aruna Pasztor
Co-producer Richard Rutowski
Casting Mary Vernieu
Sound mixer Gary Alper
Color/stereo
Cast:
Bobby Cooper Sean Penn
Darrell Billy Bob Thornton
Blind Man Jon Voight
Grace McKenna Jennifer Lopez
Sheriff Potter Powers Boothe
Jake McKenna Nick Nolte
Ed Bo Hopkins
Flo Julie Hagerty
Toby N. Tucker Joaquin Phoenix
Running time -- 125 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 8/29/1997
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Brutally graphic, with an unfliching, hard-consequences finale, "One False Move'' will rivet Jim Thompson fans -- it's in that intense, unsparing tradition -- but its quick-trigger and rub-your-nose-in-it squalor are likely to hold only the most minuscule of movie audiences. Plugged with riveting textures and coarsed with raw contradictions, the film will likely fare well in its special space on the video shelf.
The film opens with a nauseatingly vivid drug murder in Los Angeles -- two dealers, accompanied by a coked-out woman, wipe out an innocent family. They're a scary group, a pathologically violent white-trasher Billy Bob Thornton), a clinically cold, black genius (Michael Beach) and a desperate, whacked-out mulatto with the nom de streets of Fantasia (Cynda Williams).
With a bundle of coke, they blast out of Los Angeles, heading to Houston to unload the stuff, with an eventual destination of Star City, Ark., where Fantasia grew up and, in her rattled drug delirium, yearns to return.
They don't exactly leave the scene of the crime without clues, and it's not long before the LAPD figures out their destination, sending two veteran homicide investigators (Jim Metzler, Earl Billings) on their trail. Up ahead, they've alerted the Star City sheriff, a local-yokel lawman nicknamed Hurricane (Bill Paxton) who's thrilled by the chance to do some big-time stuff.
Cross-cutting between the events of the chase and the dirtwater Arkansas burg where Hurricane is whetting his chops for action, director Carl Franklin has cranked up an unnervingly tight-triggered film. Screenwriters Billy Bob Thornton and Tom Epperson's scenario never relents from the out-of-control nature of the trio's bad acts.
The performances are chock-full with hard mettle. Thorton is rivetingly vile as the explosive dealer, while Beach's portrayal of his methodical accomplice is cunningly powerful. As Fantasia, Williams is the film's most sympathetic character, soundly limning the horrific downspin of an abused woman who keeps coming back for more.
Paxton as the good-ole-boy, backwoods lawman, gets to this grit of his inner fires, revealing the dark flecks in his good-guy/white-hat persona.
The technical credits are tough and crisp. Top marks, especially to Peter Yaycock and Derek Holt's score: a raw swirl of blues and hard roads.
ONE FALSE MOVE
I.R.S. Releasing
A Carl Franklin Film
Producers Jesse Beaton, Ben Myron
Director Carl Franklin
Screenwriters Billy Bob Thornton, Tom Epperson
Executive producers Miles A. Copeland III, Paul Colichman, Harold Welb
Executives in charge of production Toni Phillips, Steven Reich
Director of photography James L. Carter
Production designer Gary T. New
Editor Carole Kravetz
Costume designer Ron Leamon
Music Peter Haycock, Derek Holt
Sound mixer Ken Segal
Color/Stereo
Dale "Hurricane" Dixon Bill Paxton
Fantasia/Lila Cynda Williams
Ray Malcolm Billy Bob Thornton
Pluto Michael Beach
Dud Cole Jim Metzler
McFeely Earl Billings
Running time - 114 minutes
MPAA Rating: R
(c) The Hollywood Reporter...
The film opens with a nauseatingly vivid drug murder in Los Angeles -- two dealers, accompanied by a coked-out woman, wipe out an innocent family. They're a scary group, a pathologically violent white-trasher Billy Bob Thornton), a clinically cold, black genius (Michael Beach) and a desperate, whacked-out mulatto with the nom de streets of Fantasia (Cynda Williams).
With a bundle of coke, they blast out of Los Angeles, heading to Houston to unload the stuff, with an eventual destination of Star City, Ark., where Fantasia grew up and, in her rattled drug delirium, yearns to return.
They don't exactly leave the scene of the crime without clues, and it's not long before the LAPD figures out their destination, sending two veteran homicide investigators (Jim Metzler, Earl Billings) on their trail. Up ahead, they've alerted the Star City sheriff, a local-yokel lawman nicknamed Hurricane (Bill Paxton) who's thrilled by the chance to do some big-time stuff.
Cross-cutting between the events of the chase and the dirtwater Arkansas burg where Hurricane is whetting his chops for action, director Carl Franklin has cranked up an unnervingly tight-triggered film. Screenwriters Billy Bob Thornton and Tom Epperson's scenario never relents from the out-of-control nature of the trio's bad acts.
The performances are chock-full with hard mettle. Thorton is rivetingly vile as the explosive dealer, while Beach's portrayal of his methodical accomplice is cunningly powerful. As Fantasia, Williams is the film's most sympathetic character, soundly limning the horrific downspin of an abused woman who keeps coming back for more.
Paxton as the good-ole-boy, backwoods lawman, gets to this grit of his inner fires, revealing the dark flecks in his good-guy/white-hat persona.
The technical credits are tough and crisp. Top marks, especially to Peter Yaycock and Derek Holt's score: a raw swirl of blues and hard roads.
ONE FALSE MOVE
I.R.S. Releasing
A Carl Franklin Film
Producers Jesse Beaton, Ben Myron
Director Carl Franklin
Screenwriters Billy Bob Thornton, Tom Epperson
Executive producers Miles A. Copeland III, Paul Colichman, Harold Welb
Executives in charge of production Toni Phillips, Steven Reich
Director of photography James L. Carter
Production designer Gary T. New
Editor Carole Kravetz
Costume designer Ron Leamon
Music Peter Haycock, Derek Holt
Sound mixer Ken Segal
Color/Stereo
Dale "Hurricane" Dixon Bill Paxton
Fantasia/Lila Cynda Williams
Ray Malcolm Billy Bob Thornton
Pluto Michael Beach
Dud Cole Jim Metzler
McFeely Earl Billings
Running time - 114 minutes
MPAA Rating: R
(c) The Hollywood Reporter...
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