Showing posts with label Anjelica Huston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anjelica Huston. Show all posts

Saturday, February 6, 2010

When in Rome

When in Rome - Dir. Mark Steven Johnson (2010)


Was it too much to hope that When in Rome would bring something new to the table to the stagnant romantic comedy genre? Considering the film was written by the team behind Old Dogs, David Diamond and David Weissman, the answer is an emphatic yes.

Kristen Bell is the archetypal female lead, a Type-A career woman. In this case, she’s Beth Harper, a curator for the Guggenheim. Sadly, no twenty minute shootouts ala The International occur in this film. She flies off to Rome to attend her younger sister’s wedding. Beth is a cynic about love and doesn’t give much of a chance to her sibling’s impending nuptials. However, Beth hits it off with Nick Beamon (Josh Duhamel), a dashing sports writer whose football career was cut short after being struck by lightning. No, really…

When Beth sees Nick kissing another woman, she gets drunk and stumbles into a fountain and pulls out four coins and a poker chop, believing she is liberating those wishes. Instead, the men (glorified cartoon characters) who tossed them in originally fall madly in love with Beth due to the magic of the fountain. They include Dax Shephard as a narcissistic male model, Jon Heder as a Criss Angel-looking street magician, Will Arnett as an Italian artist, and Danny DeVito as a sausage magnate. Hmm…I wonder if he knows Abe Froman, the Sausage King of Chicago.

These suitors stalk Beth all the way back to New York City. Nick is also making an attempt to woo Beth, but the question remains whether or not his love is real. As if you didn’t already know the answer.

I’ll give When in Rome a single shred of credit for not following the paint-by-numbers formula that all rom-coms do nowadays. No, Rome is a screwball comedy all the day and I doubt anyone has been clamoring for its return. I loved the classics like His Girl Friday, but the genre was laid to rest by Peter Bogdanovich’s homage, What’s Up, Doc?, and, aside from perhaps A Fish Called Wanda, the genre has been flatlining ever since. Not even the Coens could resuscitate it with Intolerable Cruelty and its star George Clooney failed as well with Leatherheads.

When in Rome won’t be heading up a revival anytime soon. The film uses only the broadest strokes in its lame attempts at slapstick humor. Nick falls down holes and bumps into things. Not for any reason, he just bumps into things because that’s supposed to be funny. You know your movie is in trouble when the best gag you can come up with is having your lead characters drive around town in a ludicrously tiny car. Another scene finds Beth and Nick dining at a restaurant where the lights are turned out and the wait staff wears night vision goggles. I’m sure it sounded funnier on paper (actually, it doesn’t), but the sequence is such a mess that you wish they had just shot the whole damn movie in the dark. One of the staples of the screwball comedy was witty, rapid-fire dialogue. There is none of that in When in Rome. Nope, we get characters who say, “My bad,” which got annoying two seconds after the first time it was ever said.

Kristen Bell, who was so good in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, doesn’t have much of a presence in the lead role. Duhamel is so bland as the romantic interest, you probably could have stuck any generic pretty boy (Paul Walker, I’m looking at you) into the role and it wouldn’t have made any difference. Jon Heder is the saddest of the bunch, still desperately trying to milk whatever is left of his Napoleon Dynamite fame.

When in Rome was directed by Mark Steven Johnson who also helmed Daredevil and Ghost Rider. Let’s just say, his contributions here won’t ever be compared to Howard Hawks or Preston Sturges. I do hope Johnson makes more films like this. If he keeps making crappy romantic comedies, he won’t be able to make anymore crappy comic book movies.

Rating: * ½

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Choke

Choke - Dir. Clark Gregg (2008)


I’m not a huge Chuck Palahniuk fan. I’ve only ever read Fight Club though some of his other novels are on my to-read list. After viewing the film adaptation of Choke, I can safely guess that the age-old adage, ‘the book was better’ still holds true. Actor/Writer/Director Clark Gregg (who appeared as SHIELD Agent Coulson in Iron Man) spent years developing the script and streamlined the novel into a less than 90 minute runtime. Something was certainly lost in translation.

Choke feels like five different films semi-coherently edited into one movie. Sam Rockwell plays a sex addict who works as a colonial re-enactor, is best friends with a chronic masturbator dating a stripper, visits his sick mother in a mental hospital (where old ladies believe he’s the messiah) while falling for her doctor. He also chokes in restaurants on purpose to scam money from his rescuers. Someone should have told Gregg he needed more than 89 minutes. Flashbacks involving the protagonist’s childhood are awkwardly shoehorned in.

Rockwell has perfected these kinds of sleazy, damaged roles, but he’ll be remembered this year for his performance in Snow Angels rather than this forgettable stab at dark comedy. The always adorable Kelly McDonald brings a small ray of sunshine to an otherwise flat and dreary production.

Rating: **