The Family: A Few Laughs Does Not a Good Movie Make!

Director Luc Besson (The Fifth Element) offers us a glimpse into what it might be like to be in the witness protection program today…if we were part of a psychotic mobster family.   Sadly, while the film starts out well, it soon tappers off into clichéd obscurity… a distant place it probably should have stayed.

Premise: The Manzoni family relocates to France under the witness protection program, where fitting in soon becomes challenging as their old habits die hard. Result: A mildly entertaining film that rests almost entirely on the strength of its cast since not much else goes right.

Giovanni Manzoni (Robert De Niro), now aka “Fred Blake” is in witness protection.  And so is his family including wife Maggie (Michelle Pfeiffer), daughter Belle (Dianna Agron) and son Warren (John D’Leo).  “Why” is a mystery forever alluded to as “Fred” writes his memoires but unfortunately other than reference to a skin-deep betrayal of Don Liuchese (Stan Carp), audiences will be forever in the dark.

Uptight Robert Stansfield (Tommy Lee Jones) is his head of protection leading a team of supposedly dim-witted agents in Di Ciccio (Jimmy Palumbo) and Caputo (Domenick Lombardozzi).

This film starts out  well enough, allowing observers to “get to know” the family and the way they are adapting to their “situation.”  “Fred” is trying to figure out a way to bring meaning back into his life, when he is not pummeling random people into oblivion.  Maggie is trying to nurture her family in between pyro-mania episodes.  Belle, like her father has insane anger management issues and Warren is on the fast track to be a crime boss for himself one day, manipulating everything and everyone with impunity.

And for a while this is funny and interesting with the promise of thought-provoking character development.  None of that happened.  Instead, several key elements went horribly wrong.  First, and foremost, the character development portion of the film never moved past “stereotypical thug” and it stopped being cute really fast.  Here was an example of how getting to know someone made you like, and worse, understand them even less.  Mid-way through the film they went from being agreeable to awful and by the end confounding caricatures.

Worse, the plot lines were either painfully predictable or completely inexplicable.  On the one hand, half the events could be seen coming from oceans away despite how ridiculous they, in fact, were. In particular, two scenes: one involving a rogue newspaper that makes its way conveniently across the Atlantic and another involving an impromptu film viewing; both were obvious developments in the context of the film but also so preposterous as to illicit guffaws.  The film is littered with these lazy moments.

But worse are the plot lines that defied explanation: the entire plot involving young Belle rests squarely in this world, forcing audiences to shake their heads ceaselessly.  And the entire film alludes to some “story” that “Fred” is writing but by the end it is impossible to tell if we were given any answers, given a cliffhanger, or if the film was simply cut thirty minutes too short.  Of course, experiencing this film would make no one want the answer to that last question to be in the affirmative since the film feels thirty minutes too long already.

The only real saving grace for this film is the actors themselves.  Lesser actors would have driven this film into cinematic apocalypse.  But because of the strength of the cast (somehow bamboozled into taking part in this film) the experience is significantly more enjoyable than it would otherwise have been.  De Niro sells his role and although the character is not entirely likeable by the end, audiences are glad enough to see him in this type of amusing role (see Analyze This for a better time, however.)

Lee Jones once again does curmudgeon as well if not better than anyone in the business.  His expressions of utter horror and disgust are priceless and his sparring with De Niro is worth its weight in gold.

Pfeiffer is great from moment one. She manages a full range of emotions and delights with every comment, facial experience, insult and tear she can muster.

uh. oh.

D’Leo, as a relative unknown, is quite impressive in this film. He is believable, amusing and by the end, likely the most affable of all these characters.

For poor Agron, however, it is impossible to tell who ruined whom.  Was it the trite, melodramatic expressions and pawings she musters at every turn that made her character so unwatchable?  Or was it the fault of the writing, sketching an absurd picture of a character that makes no sense on paper or on screen.  Let’s say a little and a lot of both.

Ultimately, The Family just doesn’t do enough or enough well to hold water.  It indulges far too many stereotypes, flaunts weak and often vanishing storylines and leaves audiences wanting a completely different movie.  While the performances are fun, they rely far too much on the stars in them and not enough on good film making.

Rating: 5 – A luke-warm Pinot Grigio

People Like Us: A Truly Amazing, Complicated, Deep Film

Occasionally, a film comes along that is likely to be overlooked by everyone; this reality is made all the more troubling by how good the movie actually is.  This can be no more true of People Like Us, a complete film in virtually every way, evoking strong sentiment and demanding deep connection with its audience the way most film was meant to be.  While not perfect, People Like Us should be one of the more memorable films of the year.

Premise: While settling his recently deceased father’s estate, Sam discovers he has a sister whom he never knew about, leading both to re-examine the world they thought they knew. Result: A beautiful film that far exceeds expectations.

Director Alex Kurtzman takes on a very lofty project in People Like Us; while there is no question he has a talented cast and a strong script, making a film that walks so close to the edge of melodrama, particularly as a first time director, is no easy task. But Kurtzman handles himself with remarkable aplomb, guiding his cast through a complex plot, ripe with all sorts of intricate emotions and nuanced detail to make the film work on virtually every level.

People Like Us begins with Sam (Chris Pine), a salesman of sorts who is closing a deal with a major client, hopefully garnering the commission he so desperately needs.  But an error in judgment in a previous sale, as announced by his slimy boss Richards (Jon Favreau), leaves Chris in debt and in trouble: not only is he broke, but he also must deal with an impossible task or risk investigation by the FTC.

Of course, the challenge alone might be daunting for some.  Not only must Sam deal with this catastrophe, but only moments after arriving at his home, he is confronted by girlfriend Hannah (Olivia Wilde), who informs him that his father has died.  Worse still, he has been estranged from his father and mother Lillian (Michelle Pfeiffer), for years.

This sets up an essential context for Sam: he is both distracted by his crumbling career and disgruntled by his past life; he has become a tired, emotionally scarred man who hasn’t quite moved on from a childhood he perceives as so broken.

And so Sam and Hannah make the reluctant journey from New York to California, still managing to miss the funeral, but present nevertheless. There is a dark, distant energy that settles over Sam and Lillian: the sad, suffocating sense of deep regret. Worse still, Sam encounters his Father’s best friend and attorney Ike Rafferty (Philip Baker Hall) , who informs him that he has inherited all his Father’s records and virtually nothing else, other than a requested favor: take $150,000 and take it to Josh Davis at a specified address. The reaction is both explosive and catastrophic.

Sam investigates, if nothing more out of morbid curiosity, and finds that Josh (Michael Hall D’Addario) is his nephew, born from a half-sister Frankie (Elizabeth Banks) he never knew. Sam is confronted with several decisions which ultimately further strain his relationship with his mother and Hannah: keep the money and pay off his debt, give it to this woman he doesn’t know and who represents a secret sinister side of his Father even he had not imagined.

The rest of the film surrounds this dilemma as Sam is confronted by emotions and complexity that borders on impossible.  But as time drags on, Sam finds himself more deeply involved in the lives of Frankie and Josh and so himself begins to transform.  Each scene is filled with mesmerizing sentiment, intricately managed by Kurtzman making audiences feel connected, overwhelmed, anxious, and invested as each moment passes.  While there are some questionable moments around Sam’s response to his work that might confuse audiences, enough is done around the crucible of emotions Sam faces to make it passable.

What makes this film work is the realism that the script provides and that Kurtzman’s subtle style enforces.  Each scene is a surprise that while flowing logically through the story, manages some delicate, understated nuances that drive their impact. The plot itself effectively winds through a sinuous path cluttered with complexity and frankly, sadness that takes what might have been a fully uplifting, light-hearted tale and drives it home to a deeper, darker but ultimately more memorable place.

The acting in this film helps audiences buy the story.  The cast has clear chemistry and repeatedly deliver on the required emotion. Pine is wonderful, managing to infuse humor while also keeping the very real pain he holds available for audiences to feel.  He is angry, he is difficult, and you can sense from his voice, his pauses, his body language that he is damaged.

Banks offers a mirror performance of Pine.  The two play off one another quite effectively but Banks on her own is perfect as the struggling, perhaps drowning, single mother who has had her share of disappointments, not the least of which was that her Father abandoned her when she was just a girl.  Banks shows us vulnerability behind her icy demeanor that really drives the film home.

Pfeiffer is also brilliant as the tired, defeated mother who still just might have some fight left in her.  Pfeiffer does a wonderful job of demonstrating her acting range and really giving depth to the character.  Wilde for her part is strong; although her character is more muted than the rest, she manages to keep herself relevant and visible, no easy feat among this all-star cast.

Michael Hall D’Addario, however, is certainly the breakout here, managing a performance precocious enough to be reminiscent of Chloe Moretz.  He brings humor, pain and maturity to a role that is often not found in adults and does it with a grace that makes him magnetic on screen.

Overall, People Like Us is a fantastic film, ripe with the emotional complexity and winding story that will keep audiences glued to the screen.  Its resolution, those final moments, is painfully poignant, challenging any observer to avoid tear-stained cheeks. While it is not a perfect film, its impact is undeniable and certainly surpasses all expectations.

Rating: 8 – An expensive red wine and juicy steak

Dark Shadows: Some Fun, Some Strange, Mostly Mediocre

Collaborating once again with Johnny Depp and wife Helena Bonham Carter, Director Tim Burton has cultivated in Dark Shadows some unexpected results. The first half of the film is surprisingly fun, energizing and coherent, a feat thought largely impossible from the trailers alone.  However, this results in a downside as well: the success of the first half creates higher than average expectations for the latter and sadly, these expectations, victimized by plot incoherence and some shockingly poor decision making, are far from fulfilled.

Premise: Imprisoned by a jealous witch, vampire Barnabas Collins is set free and returns to his ancestral home, where his dysfunctional descendants are in need of his protection. Result: A film that starts out strong only to end at the bottom of a cinematic ravine.

Based on the cult-classic 60s television series, Dark Shadows spans several centuries to cover the afflicted life of a Mr. Barnabas Collins (Depp).  The heir to a Maine Seafood Fortune cultivated by the British Collins family, Barnabas grows up in Collinsport (named for the family) in an American castle, known as Collinwood, in the late Eighteenth Century. Everything works wonderfully for Barnabas until his affair with the lovely housemaid Angelique Bouchard (Eva Green) is cut short by his failure to reciprocate her love.

To Barnabas’s great misfortune, Bouchard turns out to be a powerful witch and uses all sorts of sinister sorcery to not only murder his parents and his true love Josette (Bella Heathcote), but also turn him into a Vampire to prolong his suffering for all of time.  She then has the townspeople bury the creature, never to be heard from again.

Of course, he is heard from again when a construction team happens upon his coffin and unwittingly releases him (note to reader: should you ever stumble upon a coffin that not only has been chained closed but also happens to move violently, run, don’t walk, away). Here Burton does a wonderful job of balancing humor and horror: in one moment Collins is joking, in another he is killing a half dozen people, and then back to joking again.  The moods switch quite frequently but also deftly, keeping the audience invested despite the emotional roller coaster.

Collins then reports to Collinwood, now in ruins, to resume the life that had been stolen from him. Here he stumbles upon a ragged Elizabth Collins Stoddard (Michelle Pfeiffer) who is the de facto head of the crumbling household.  Within the 1972 Collinwood dwell some of the more bizarre creatures Burton has coinsured (and this not including the witch or vampire.)

Brother Roger (Jonny Lee Miller) is half deadbeat dad and half petty thief, daughter Carolyn (Chloë Grace Moretz) who looks desperate to take a mouth full of high-Octane meds, nephew David (Gulliver McGrath), who is supposedly crazy for seeing visions of his dead mother, and Dr. Hoffman (Bonham Carter) who juggles caring for David’ psychosis and her own alcoholism. Of course, there is also the help, consisting of old lady mute-pants Mrs. Johnson (Ray Shirley), Willie Loomis (Jackie Earle Haley) who seems to have just escaped from Shawshank Prison, and, of course, the new and not a minute too soon Governess Victoria Winters (also Heathcote).

Ultimately, the film follows several key storylines, some better than others.  At the forefront are Barnabas’ actions to turn Collinwood into an inhabitable castle once more and the business into the pride of their family.  This, of course, invites the ire of the villainous Bouchard who seeks to both destroy and (lovingly?) ensnare Barnabas.  There is, of course, the third plotline that reunites Barnabas with a supposed ancestor of his former love.  As these plots build, there is significant humor intermingled with trademark Burton darkness that makes the film both entertaining and exciting.

But as the film nears its second half, the novelty has largely worn off.  This is due to some mind-boggling errors from Burton and his team.  At first, there is only an inkling that the bright lights of this film are flickering: a few bad jokes here and there, but not enough to distract from what is going well.

However, then, like some sudden phantom, the calamity is upon the audience and the echoes of screeching wheels overwhelms.  Scene after scene becomes more absurd than the last; some moments are just silly, taking their tolls as the story builds, but some just come completely out of nowhere (why is there a werewolf?  Why the ghost screamer?) As the chaos subsides at film’s end, we are left with a resolution that is rushed, clumsy, unfunny, and disappointing.  Unacceptably, it appears somehow like Burton lost interest in the film by the mid-mark and was replaced by a local grade school prose assignment.

The acting in the film is strong, however.  Depp, as always, manages to make this character memorable, fully embodying the creature, letting himself seep into every pore.  While at times the character clearly becomes a bit absurd and the even annoying, this is mostly due to the script he had to work with than the delivery. Green is also quite strong as the villain, swinging like a pendulum from seductive to maniacal. Pfieiffer is also quite strong, perhaps the most consistent along with Depp, as a shrewd but tired matriarch, embodying loth, exhaustion, and creepiness.

Haley and Bonham Carter are additional treats in the film; Bonham Carter is awkward and eerie as always, embodying the true aesthetic her husband has cultivated so assiduously.  Haley, for his part, is ten parts creepy, twenty parts filthy, and all the rest pure comedy.  His glassy eyes and slack-jawed musings are comedic gold and help to keep some scenes moving that otherwise would have sat in squalor.

Overall, Dark Shadows exceeds only expectations that were painfully low to begin with.  The film is enjoyable for a significant amount of time, but ends poorly, ebbing from cringe-inducing to just plain boredom.  Nevertheless, Burton does manage to do enough with the film to keep Dark Shadows from being a failure.  Instead, the film is a fair representation of the series and an equally middle of the road entertainment experience. Considering the final scenes, this is quite the compliment.

Rating: 6 – A mediocre Prosecco that a cute bartender served you