Male immaturity seems to be the only strong theme among the comedies of not the last few years. Sure, Bridesmaids attempted to establish a bit of gender equality, but that was certainly the exception, not the rule.  Whether it be a slob who lost the TV-star-love-of-his-life, the potheads that get involved with the trade a little more than they’d like, or, in Our Idiot Brother‘s case, an unwillingness to abandoned the joys and naivete of childhood. There are a few other commonalities that lift these films above their peers, but one of the most important is the lead performance. If Brother had been in the hands of an actor less capable than Paul Rudd, I fear all would have been lost. Fortunately, it wasn’t.

Rudd plays Ned, a hippie, organic farmer, who’s happy to do nothing more than play with his dog Willie Nelson, enjoy the high of some decent bud and occasionally spend some time with his family.  He’s so good and pure that he sells weed to a fully uniformed officer after the latter mentioned he needed it after a particularly rough week.  This early scene perfectly captured Ned’s character, and the outlook for the rest of the movie doesn’t look so promising.  Could anyone so dim really offer an interesting hour and a half in the theatre?

Coming off his eight month prison sentence for the drug peddling, Ned returns to his bohemian farm to find his girl has replaced him with a similar version of Ned.  She makes it clear he’s not longer welcome there and he should keep moving.  She’s also keeping Willie Nelson which seems to sting Ned the most.  This catalyst forces Ned to venture into Brooklyn where moves around between the home of his mother and the homes of each of his three sisters.  If Ned seems a bit more of an idea than a character, his sisters will further reinforce this reaction.

There’s Miranda (Elizabeth Banks), who’s playing cutthroat to get a major foot up at Vanity Fair where she works.  She’s ruthless, and fully willing to skirt the edges of ethics to get what her editor wants.  And there’s Liz (Emily Mortimer), the tired-looking, married mother of two, living in Park Slope where she and her husband (Steve Coogan) instill the most inane of values into their children.  And lastly, there’s Natalie (Zooey Deschanel), an artist’s model, who’s taking an awfully awkward run at stand up comedy, and who’s approaching crisis at the thought of becoming serious with her girlfriend Cindy (Rashida Jones).  There’s the soulless one, the one who let herself go, and the commitment-phobic, underachiever slut.

The script was written smartly by husband and wife David Schisgall and Evgenia Peretz (the latter is a contributing editor at Vanity Fair), and Peretz brother, Jesse Peretz, directed. These three manage to steer these otherwise flat characters, and worn out ideas by anchoring the film around strong moments among those on screen, and some poignant scenes, without which, would render the film lifeless.

Ned’s innocent upsets the lives of all three of his sisters, and, as they put it, he ruins their lives with some frequency. But as a beacon of integrity, roles slowly change, almost imperceptibly, and Ned, despite his flaws, ultimately is exposed for what he is–something much, much more.

Our Idiot Brother suffers from a few of the expected bittersweet indie pitfalls you’d expect.  Let me remind you it premiered at Sundance.  However, the alarmingly talented cast, and sometimes wise, and generous script makes it worthy to take note of.

3 out of 4 stars

To the world of television, it seems. Am I the only confused as to why so many great film actors are heading to the small screen? Coming this fall, Maria Bello will be taking her turn as a tough-as-nails detective named Jane Timoney in a series called Prime Suspect.  You’ve probably seen the promos of her all bruised, beaten, bitten, and eating breakfast next a murder victim. Granted, this is an American take on a highly-praised police procedural from the UK which starred Helen Mirren. Having never seen the original, I can’t really take a stance on the series, but a police procedural? Really? Bello has turned fine performances in great films like A History of Violence and Towelhead. I would much rather see her in twee, indie films if nothing less, rather than another generic crime drama.

Patrick Wilson will be taking the lead in a series called A Gifted Man, a metaphysical take on the commonplace medical procedural. Wilson plays a talented surgeon named Michael Holt who’s dead, ex-wife begins appearing to him. Those behind the series say that why she chooses to appear to Holt (or whether it’s all in his head) will remain a mystery. At least for a while. While promising to be equally about science and medicine with a touch of spirituality, the setup seems average at best .  Despite having much respect for Wilson’s acting talent, I’m baffled as to why he would take time away from working with directors like Neil LaBute and Zack Snyder (I didn’t see Sucker Punch, I’m pretending it never happened).

And finally, indie darling Zooey Deschanel will be the star in her very own prime-time sitcom on NBC called New Girl. She plays an adorable, but naive gal who gets a bunch of new roommates after leaving an ex. I think. It’s definitely something that generic. I will admit, I’m kind of excited for this one. Deschanel has an undeniable appeal, and great comedic timing. The promos have made me laugh out loud more than once.  But is it wrong to turn my nose up at television when considering she could be spending her time doing Drunk History shorts, and making Sundance hits like (500) Days of Summer and My Idiot Brother?  And when I use the term “television,”  I’m not talking about network, and premium channel television like Breaking Bad or Boardwalk Empire.  I’m talking about wedged-between-30-rock-and-the-office-basic-cable television.

Tell me if I’m wrong, but it must be a money thing. Working in television can bring large paychecks, and they come on a weekly basis. Everyone knows that all six “Friends” made a million an episode for the last few seasons. Not to mention the syndication royalties they receive for every season after number five. Even those shows without uber-mass appeal bring in the money. It’s rumored Mariska Hargitay makes around $350,000 per episode of Law & Order: SVU. Mila Kunis somewhat famously said in regard to her time on That 70s Show:

What a lot of people don’t realize is that you make more money in TV than you will in film; it’s a very steady salary. An obscene amount of money gets given to you for, like… what? So I was 20 and I looked at my bank account and realized that I was secure for the rest of my life. I was like, ‘I’m OK. I can go do other things now.

This year’s Sundance film festival was quite exceptional.  It featured a number of outstanding films coming from some of the very best filmmakers in the industry, independent or not.  It was loudly discussed that the quality of the films at this particular independent film festival could be attributed to the global economic climate.  Filmmakers were forced, or perhaps they chose, to make smaller films, take smaller paychecks, focus on quality rather than big effects, A-list stars, or other luxuries generous budgets allow for.

Everyone needs to pay the bills.  I remind myself of this every time Neil LaBute makes something like Death at a Funeral.  Maybe talents like Wilson, Bello and Deschanel can’t justify sticking it out in art films when weekly serials offer more exposure, and a lot more money.  Just like Labute probably can’t afford a place in the Hills while directing things like In the Company of Men.  Until I can get one of these folks on the phone, I’ll just have to wonder what exactly there motivations are.  But I’ll put my two cents in now and say that if I could have it one way or another, I’d prefer these fine actors on the big screen.

What do you think?

It’s refreshing to see what is advertised as a romantic comedy (it’s not, I promise) from the male perspective.  While not all rom-coms are from the woman’s point of view, it seems that most of them exhibit a certain idealism that is marketable to women, but not so much to the men they rope into seeing them.  I’m not saying (500) Days won’t appeal to both men and women alike, but this seemed to be slightly more authentic when dealing with the male side of the relationship.

Part of the films endless charms come from the two leads, Mr. Joseph Gordon-Leavitt, and the ridiculously captivating Zooey Deschanel.  They play two star crossed lovers that are so perfect for each other, they aren’t.  Watching Leavitt’s character Tom timidly woo Deschanel’s character Summer is endlessly entertaining.  It helps that they are backed by a fresh, and witty script penned by Michael H. Weber and Scott Neustadter (the two also paired together to bring us the abysmal The Pink Panther 2).  Sure, they take us to places overly familiar in romantic comedies: karaoke bars, break-ups, reconciliations, comedic best friend side kicks, but who cares when the viewer is so enraptured with the appealing characters, and realistic, un-romanticized chains of events.  I daresay that these two have brought us some of the most authentic laughs of the summer.

(500) Days marks the feature length film debut for Marc Webb, who made a name for himself directing 3 Doors Down and Maroon 5 videos.  If this is any indication of the career he is to have, it’s going to be a very bright one.  Some of his more delightful tricks include split screen scenes, pairing Tom’s expectations, and what happens in reality (watch part of it here).  He also shows some real heuvos by having a Bollywood-like dancing scene that involves a marching band, an animated bird, and fountains exploding on cue right in the middle of his film (part of it here).  It had the capability to come across as corny and embarrassing, but Webb made it fit perfectly with the tone and feel of his characters and the mood of the film.  Don’t let anyone spoil this movie for you.  Go and watch it for yourself, you won’t be disappointed.

3.5 out of 4 stars

Paul Dano plays Brian, a 28-year-old struggling with his identity.  Get this: he works in a highend Swedish mattress store.  Quirky!  He falls for Happy (Zooey DesChanel), another mid-twenties kid who doesn’t know what she’s trying to get out of life.  Her dad is insane (played by John Goodman), and he enables her because (it seems), her mother (played by Kim Basinger) is a rich, but deadbeat drug addict.  Things get complicated when Brian is finally approved to adopt a baby from China, and throughout the film, there’s a strange hobo that follows him around, shooting him in the ankle and beating him up with lead pipes… So quirky.

DesChanel is hilarious, and this pigeonhole seems to fit her very well.  Dano can’t seem to get his face to do anything but look wounded and sad.  Goodman’s role is restricted to being a gigantic DB and doing quirky things like refusing to sit in cars, but instead, lays on a mattress in the back of his station wagon while others drive him around. All of the actors have proven themselves in earlier roles, so I’m guessing it’s the boring script by director Asleton and Adam Nagata that keeps any of the characters from being interesting or three dimensional.  Despite being a comedy, there were less than three laugh-out-loud moments.  A film this stagnant needs some resolution, but Gigantic refuses to give you any, so you’ll leave the theater completely ambivolent to what you just watched.  It’s better than, say, Obsessed, but still, Gigantic doesn’t have much to offer.

1.5 out of 4 stars

I was fully warned about everything this movie is not before I rented it. I knew it’d be bad, I knew it’d be laughable, but I still wanted to see what steaming pile of pretentious trash M. Night Shyamalan served up this time.

I’m not sure what was more difficult to swallow, the fact that the trees were convincing people to jump into lions’ cages, or run themselves over with lawn mowers, or the fact that Mark Walhberg plays a science teacher who really shows a sincere interest in his students (in the same vein, John Leguizamo plays a nerdy math teacher; maybe it’s just me, but he belongs is trashy 70s clubs, snorting cocaine and doing prostitutes).  But this is what M. Night wants us to do.  Elliot and Julian are teachers at a New York middle school when something starts happening.  Everyone in Central Park first stops moving, then starts to kill themselves in horrible ways (yes, it seems Shyamalan attempted to take Final Destination to higher places).  New York begins an evacuation throwing more characters in the mix.  There’s Alma (Zooey Deschanel), Elliot’s emotionally distant wife, there’s Jess, Julian’s young daughter who’s unable to show her emotions, there’s the crazy man that talks to his plants and gives birth to the theory that it’s the plants killing everyone, and a string of other un-inventive and flat characters.

The press surrounding the film widely advertised The Happening as M. Knight’s ‘first rated R movie!’ This seems like nothing more than a ploy to overcome his most recent box office, and critical disappointments.  Perhaps, he may have thought, over the top violence and gore will deter people from noticing I no longer produce anything worthwhile.  It’s a shame this has happened.  Part of the glory of his earlier films (Sixth Sense, Signs) was his restraint with those aspects, and his focus and building characters and tension instead of pouring fake blood over everything.  The acting was mostly one demensional, probably because of the overly forced script, and also because one of the main characters used to make money grabbing his crotch and rapping in CK underwear in the early nineties.  The script is as bad as the direction and there is nothing redeeming about this flaccid film.

0.5 out of 4 stars

Rottentomatoes: 18% – Cream of the Crop: 12%

Warning: This is the redband trailer.