2013 Empty Cup Awards: The Worst Performances of 2013

Looking Back at the Worst Performances of 2013 (cause we felt like it!)

 

Sometimes looking back can be fun; sometimes excruciating. In this case, both.

Looking back on 2013, it is difficult not to be reminded of all the awful movies; it is equally impossible to forget all the terrible performances. 2013 was unique, however, in its ability to ruin entire casts all at once; films sprouted across screens that didn’t just have one awful performance, but sometimes as many as three, or frankly the entire cast just stunk it up. With this is in mind, it is no question why 2013’s worst performance is also our only solo nominee:

Beautiful Creatures: Shockingly Terrible!

Writer/director Richard LaGravenese (P.S. I Love You, Freedom Writers) has adapted the Kami Garcia novel into what can only be described as a nightmare on screen.  From moment one, everything likable about the mediocre book was completely absent and replaced by a cinematic corpse, rotting before audience eyes.

Premise: A Southern boy realizes that his fate is intertwined with that of a young girl that is new to town and who is struggling with her own future set to reveal itself on her sixteenth birthday. Result: My eyes!  My eyes! It burns!! <Sounds of reviewer painfully expiring>

The film focuses on Ethan Wate (Alden Ehrenreich) and his strange dreams of a girl he cannot quite see but can somehow feel. He soon finds that this girl is none other than Lena Duchannes (Alice Englert), the niece of town shut-in Macon Ravenwood (Jeremy Irons).  She is instantly disliked by everyone in town but for reasons beyond his own explanation, Ethan is drawn to her.

Ultimately, the story explores this connection, based on a shared family history involving dark magic and witches (known here as Casters) and the fate that poor Lena will face on her sixteenth birthday.  In this mix are Ethan’s best friend Link (Thomas Mann), his mother who is taken over by the darkest Caster Sarafine (Emma Thompson), Lena’s cousin Ridley (Emmy Rossum) – a recent convert to the dark-, and Ethan’s housekeeper slash town librarian and secret “seer” Amma (Viola Davis).

The film, to its credit, was obliquely aware that the storyline was based on a book, a book which while not groundbreaking, actually managed to deliver a fairly complex emotional story with some intriguing takes on magic. However, try as they might, audiences who have not read the novel would likely find the film painfully confusing, and for those who had read the book, painfully disappointing.

LaGravense’s strategy is to essentially take key moments from each Chapter and throw them onto the screen as messy, cinematic scatterplot.  There are familiar elements and recurrences, but lacking in charm and depth: each moment is rushed, each saccharine line delivered hastily and without the context to make it digestible.

This is further complicated by LaGravense’s fixation with taking a disdain for the South and certain cultural proclivities and transforming them into an unbearable farce: everyone is an absurd, Bible-thumping caricature with all the brains of sweet tea and grits and all the charm of the stone monuments they erect to a forgotten past.  In fairness, there is an element of this in the original novel and is required for the story, but LaGravense allows it to fester on screen without depth or context distracting from everything else.

The acting, miraculously, helps matters little in this regard.  Ehrenreich puts on a show for the ages with a backwoods Southern accent that can only be described as absurdly mesmerizing.  He allows his portrayal of a cute, Southern boy to so soar so far over the top as to somehow reach the other side and become charming once more.  Half the time it is unclear if his slack-jawed grinning was just his character or if Ehrenreich was speaking through and just having fun with the absurdity.  In the end, he somehow comes out slightly ahead of even.

Englert, on her end, has a similar result yet from the opposite perspective.  Lena is melancholy and understated and Englert does a fair job of keeping this believable.  Despite being bogged down by awful lines and an insistence that she be a throwback to Wednesday Addams, she somehow delivers.

But the same cannot be said for the veterans in this cast who seem completely lost.  Irons, who is excellent in pretty much everything, and who sells out performances of himself reading the phone book, is unbearable for every moment of the film.  Choppy and appearing confused at every moment, Irons seems distracted by his own presence in the film.

Davis fares no better, only with the added effect of appearing bored to tears by her own performance; while it seems the intention was to construct a character that is understated and struggling with deep secrets and emotions, she comes off as woefully disinterested and with all the on-screen energy of the dead she summons.  This is made more confusing by the complete departure from the character in the book once again casting doubt on LaGravense’s decision-making.

And the third casualty in the “usually awesome” veteran’s pool is reserved for Thompson who needed to be rushed to the hospital midway through the film having ingested so much scenery.  To say she presents a character that is over-the-top is to articulate universal truth like “everyone will eventually die’ and with the same, depressing result.

Sadly, I largely forgot Rossum and Mann were even in this movie, a fact, in this case, they will appreciate.

Overall, LaGravense ruins a story that might have actually been interesting.  It is a rushed, messy, poorly constructed film that is frustrating, dull and confusing.  He manages to drain all the talent out of his actors and seems content with a fragmented, hollow tale that is satisfying to no one.  This is one of the worst cinematic experiences in years, a comment made more frightening with powerhouse failures like Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters hardly a distant memory.

Rating: 2 – Boxed wine and Razorblades – let’s see which kills you faster!

The Words: Too Many Words…Not Enough Reason to Care

Frame stories are always challenging for both the creators and the observers. Add to this a trying plot based on varying strands of complex emotions ranging from hardship and pain to beauty and art to truth and the meaning of life and you have yourself quite the project.  Unfortunately for directors Brian Klugman and Lee Sternthal, while successfully grafting a few impactful moments in The Words, the end product lacks in clear, cohesive result or connection, instead delivering the sad specter of what might have been.

Premise: A writer contemplates life and meaning as he discovers the steep price he must pay for stealing another man’s work. Result: Some good acting drowned by a weak, choppy, confusing script keeps this film from going anywhere.

The film focuses on several stories within stories, framing reality in such as a way as to add layers and depth to a tale that really, had it been executed well, did not require it.  We begin with Clay Hammond (Dennis Quaid), a successful author reading from his latest book, simply entitled, The Words. While revered, there is something, sad, lonely and out-of-sorts about him, a certain anxious exhaustion that seeps through the skin.

As he reads, he introduces us to a young couple – Rory Jansen (Bradley Cooper), a promising young author, and his girlfriend and soul mate Dora (Zoe Saldana) – who have lived together since college, and despite their poverty, have an adorable “Gift of the Magi” sensibility that makes all right in the world.  But soon we discover that all isn’t right in the world for Rory, who, as a struggling writer is forced to continue to take money from his father (J.K. Simmons) and finds he is too “unknown” to be published.

And then suddenly, everything changes.  After stumbling upon an old briefcase, he discovers a manuscript.  He is instantly enchanted, overwhelmed by the writing, by the words that are somehow deeper than anything he has ever known.  The film, of course, selfishly clings to this romanticized notion, never sharing what characterizes this depth, instead simply tossing words like “truer” and “deeper” and then showing crying or exasperated characters to communicate this elevated sense of art.

Rory re-types the entire manuscript, desperate to feel this level of talent, to “let the words flow through him” even for a fleeting moment.  He is destroyed by this process, realizing that “he will never be as good as this writer”; but when Dora discovers the re-typed manuscript, she is equally overwhelmed and insists he publish it. And so begins the lie, the choice to become the author of words he did not write.

The remainder of the tale follows Rory as he becomes the darling of the literary world, as readers everywhere ravenously devour his prose.  And Clay reads on, somberly retelling the story, as Rory is confronted by the Old Man (Jeremy Irons), the true author of the manuscript, who recounts the tale that is not found in the book.  And Clay, struggling through the work, is further confronted by Daniella (Olivia Wilde), a grad student insistent on probing him for a deeper view of the book, to understand his connection to the story.

The film itself, despite rather intriguing potential, devolves into a choppy, confusing, clichéd mess that borders on overindulgence and pretense.  A story such as this, one that examines life and failure, particularly in art, has the opportunity to affect audiences in deep, moving ways, helping them to reflect on meaning and their own relationships to love and life.

Instead, while The Words attempts this, it is a holistic failure; although there are several moments where audiences are given impressions of the film’s purpose, of the profound meaning it endeavors to characterize, the whole of the film staggers, depending on oblique events and unoriginal stories to resonate.  Further, the film is hindered by a distinct lack of focus, producing conversations with countless “words” but very little significance or scenes and events strung together without any clear message.

The acting in the film is also inconsistent, further mired in a script that isn’t sure what it is trying to do.  Irons is strong as the crotchety Old Man, departing from his usual, charismatic self now inhabiting a ruined creature filled with nuance and melancholy.  But even his talent can’t justify half the nonsense he sputters.  Cooper, once again is quite powerful and believable, as is Saldana, both serving as a couple in love who fall into ruin and despair.

Quaid and Wilde, on the other hand, do not seem to understand the script they are reciting from.  They look confused by the words coming out of their mouths and Quaid, in particular, seems clueless about the character he is playing.  Neither should be blamed, however, since it is unclear anyone knew why they were there or what they were trying to be.

The resolution is painfully anticlimactic and predictable.  While the entire film begs us to wonder what will happen next, once we find out, despite the complex delivery, nothing seems to matter.  There is an interesting link between Rory and the Old Man in terms of the pain “the words” represent, but even this can’t help the plot. And so while there are a few intriguing moments that might make audiences sense something stimulating may come, nothing does, leaving us lower than when we started.

In the end, The Words forces audiences to ask all the wrong questions.  Rather than focus on meaning and revel in the pathos of the material, we focus instead on the mistakes. Observers may ask why the writers chose so many story lines?  The Clay storyline is completely unnecessary and its ultimate resolution adds only more confusion. This time might better have been spent building out the Old Man storylines, in particular answering question like, why when in a fit of despair does ‘the young man’ just start writing?  This especially since prior his only link to reading and writing was minimal…and haven’t we seen this before?  Oh and isn’t his longing for Hemmingway just a bit too on the nose? And on and on until observers realize the only question worth asking in this film is, why are we watching this in the first place?

Rating: 5 – A luke-warm Pinot Grigio

Margin Call: A Thrilling, Fictional Account of the Relentless Greed in our Financial System

The financial apocalypse that was 2008 in the U.S. and the world is by no means a topic with little coverage.  Nevertheless, J.C. Chandor pens and directs in Margin Call, a fresh take on the crisis.  While the specific crisis and the key players remain sufficiently ambiguous, and the account is ultimately fictionalized, the concept is clear: at the heart of Wall Street there looms a darkness America knows all too well.

Premise: A thrilling tale that focuses on the key players at a investment bank over a 24-hour period during the early stages of the financial crisis. Result: A generally strong story with powerful performances that ultimately will keep audiences interested.

Margin Call is fiction, and yet every moment feels as much documentary as creative prose.  Taking place over the span of less than two full days, Margin Call tells the story of a haphazard discovery of an impending financial catastrophe by a Banking associate.  At the beginning of Day One, we are confronted with a rash of sudden, callous firings, a veritable massacre where large portions of staff are eliminated and forgotten, yet another example of survival of the fittest in a dog-eat-dog world.  And to close out the day, Sam Rogers (Kevin Spacey) materializes, despite his the emotional calamity of his dog’s imminent death, to rally the remaining troops to look forward and forget their former colleagues.  After all, it is that ruthless focus that has made “the firm” the best for over a Century.

But it is at the firing of Eric Dale (Stanley Tucci), a senior risk manager that the plot begins to turn.   Dale had been working on a project, an evaluation of the firm’s holdings that somehow seemed dangerous. In a fleeting moment at his exit, he hands of this project to Associate Peter Sullivan (Zachary Quinto) who, in a fit of curiosity, pursues the project and uncovers the terrifying truth: the firm is on the brink of complete financial ruin.  With the help of hapless colleague Seth Bregman (Penn Badgley), he manages to grab the attention of leadership, first in the shape of Will Emerson (Paul Bettany) and soon Rogers as well.

The film moves quickly at this point and audiences will feel themselves careening through a nerdy, finance-focused Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, as more and more leaders become aware of the Doomsday notice.  Next comes Jared Cohen (Simon Baker) followed by Risk Czar, Sarah Robertson (Demi Moore), until finally the now frantic council summons the full Executive Committee and their fearless and equally terrifying CEO John Tuld (Jeremy Irons) in the early hours of the morning.

The remainder of the film serves as modern-day homage to the common expression, “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”  Suddenly, all parties are confronted with a grave moral dilemma – save the company (and themselves) and possibly ruin the industry, the world, and so on…or let the company fail.  Chandor does a successful job of developing a scenario that so closely resembles the 2008 catastrophe that viewers will tell most of the story for him, already understanding the stakes based on events they witnessed firsthand.  All Chandor appears to be doing is giving faces to characters long imagined but rarely seen.

As the film progresses, we find each character confronted with an ethical dilemma so profound as to cause all sorts of moral spasms and uniform, apoplectic shock.  But story after story comes to the same end; when pressed to it, there is no limit to the power and influence of money and the fear of reprisal.  Each character finds some different excuse for why they are trapped, for why they are powerless to prevent the horrible events that will unfold. 

In the end, this film is largely about the helplessness of people in general when opposed by the great financial and industrial monoliths of today.  There is nothing new in this story per se; but most observers will find this story impactful because it is so real, so seemingly based on facts.  Here we see a mass of people on the edge of the precipice, powerless to prevent their own cowardice from winning the day. 

It is not clear exactly what Chandor wants from his audience.  On some level, his characters are presented as pawns in a greater game, as hapless but sympathetic; they cry, they stare off pensively into the distance, they pontificate about “how wrong it all is.” Yet, in other ways they are not sympathetic at all; at the beginning of the story large percentages of the population was extinguished, thrown to the wolves after decades of service and the surviving members told to stand proud because they were just “better.”  While on some level a limit to ruthlessness and reckless abandon is something to be admired, here it is somewhat preposterous, seeming like a viral hypocrisy suddenly swelling the body and blistering the skin.  A conflict that Chandor cultivates quite effectively.

The acting in this film is quite effective.  Spacey is very powerful as the abrasive, no nonsense director, efficiently combining targeted sarcasm and explosive outrage.  He delivers one of his stronger performances as Rogers and certainly one of his more nuanced.  Irons as the cool, collected CEO/villain is the other juggernaut in the room managing to steal all the attention at every turn.  The slime he oozes is always perfectly veiled in sinister justification, and audiences will dote on every word.  His presence is remarkable, a captivating Nosferatu that languidly slithers on screen, mesmerizing at every turn.

Paul Bettany is perhaps the third in the triumvirate of notable performances.  Unlike the other two, Bettany manages to duplicate another key stereotype of Bankers, the ruthless, Fast-talking frat boy that always exudes a business-is-business mentality. Quinto and Badgley are both also effective as the sharp but luckless low-rung employees caught in this turmoil, observing far beyond their pay-grade and wrestling with the moral dilemmas that come with having seen behind the curtain.

Baker and Moore on the other hand are relatively invisible.  Both have high-powered positions and play a relevant role in the film’s ongoings, yet have almost no impact.  There is a very keen sense that each time they saunter on screen, this may be the best time to rest your eyes.

Overall, Margin Call is a strong, interesting film that will manage to tell a different version of a story we know all too well.  Fortunately, despite a few clichés and some pontification, the film manages to give some bang for the buck.

Rating: 7- A refreshing Champagne that a cute bartender comp’d you!