Showing posts with label Kim Cattrall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kim Cattrall. Show all posts

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Meet Monica Velour

Meet Monica Velour - Dir. Keith Bearden (2011)


"You screw a few hundred guys and the whole world turns against you."

Marilyn Chambers, Ginger Lynn, Christy Canyon, and Nina Hartley. These are some of the biggest starlets in the history of porn. A few of the well-known performers of the golden age of porn have tried to transition into mainstream film, but found the stigma of their previous occupations to be a tremendous hurdle. Other actresses have happily retired and some are still in the business. Others, like Bambi Woods the starlet of the infamous Debbie Does Dallas, seem to have vanished without at race.

Inspired by these tales, Keith Bearden, writing and directing his first feature film, presents Meet Monica Velour, a coming-of-age story about an awkward young man and a faded star.

Tobe (Dustin Ingram) lives with his grandfather (Brian Dennehy) in suburban Wisconsin and earns a living by working a hot dog truck called the Weenie Wiz. He has a fascination with things of a bygone age, preferring to listen to 1930's jazz and watching vintage porn from the early-80's. His favorite skin flicks feature a beautiful blonde named Monica Velour (Jamie Tisdale). Tobe has all her movies on VHS as well as an extensive collection of posters, photos, and clippings. He's just graduated from high school after four completely undistinguished years. Tobe's prospects are slim after being rejected from every college he applied to. Not wanting to sling hot dogs for the rest of his life, he decides to sell the food truck to an artist living in Indiana. By coincidence, Tobe learns that Monica Velour is making a rare appearance at a Podunk strip club called The Petting Zoo.

Faster than you can say "road trip," Tobe makes the long drive to the Hoosier State to meet his dream girl. What he finds instead is a downtrodden and middle-aged divorcee (Kim Cattrall) whose hollow-eyed routine is a sad sight. She lives in a rundown trailer park and is locked in a bitter custody battle for her daughter with her abrasive ex-husband (Sam McMurray). Monica allows Tobe to stay with her out of pity after he's beaten up by a group of frat boys while trying to defend her honor from their cruel taunts. Thus begins an unlikely friendship as Tobe takes it upon himself to save Monica Velour.

Images of Napoleon Dynamite will likely pop into your head due to the striking resemblance between Tobe and Jon Heder's most well-known character. Much like Napoleon Dynamite, Tobe is a lanky, nerdy looking teenager with thick glasses and curly hair. Unlike Napoleon, Tobe isn't a cartoonish caricature. At least there was an eccentric charm in the former character, Tobe is lacking in any distinct personality. He's also not a very likeable protagonist and his naiveté gets downright annoying very quickly. At least, Kim Cattrall gives a brave, if Oscar bait-y, performance as the over-the-hill adult entertainer. Cattrall put on an extra twenty pounds for the part and wore little to no make-up. It's certainly a far cry from her glamorous role as Samantha on Sex and the City. But, Cattrall hardly gets a chance to delve deeper into the character because of how thinly written she is.

Monica Velour isn't totally devoid of positive elements. The opening credits consisting of mock porno posters and video covers are cute. The film also features the great Keith David as Tobe's prospective buyer, an artist of kitschy Americana. His art studio littered with giant Pez dispensers and a statue of Bob's Big Boy. If it sounds like I'm stretching to find compliments, I am.

Meet Monica Velour is a mix of drama and comedy that's lacking in any drama or comedy. Too often Bearden goes for the cheap jokes. The pseudo-porno scenes are tired gags revolving around poor production values and bad acting. Lacking in originality or genuine emotion, this is a film that fakes its way to the money shot.

Rating: * (*****)

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

The Ghost Writer

The Ghost Writer - Dir. Roman Polanski (2010)


Two of the masters of film tried their hands at the thriller genre at the beginning of 2010. While Martin Scorsese’s Shutter Island was undone by an M. Night Shyamalan style twist ending, Roman Polanski’s The Ghost Writer offers no such tricks. Based on the novel by Robert Harris, it relies on a strong cast of actors and old-fashioned storytelling.

Ewan McGregor stars as an unnamed ghost writer who is only referred to as The Ghost in credits. The Ghost lands a lucrative job handling the autobiography of former British Prime Minister, Adam Lang (Pierce Brosnan). The Ghost’s predecessor was Lang’s long-time aide whose body was found washed ashore. In addition, Lang is accused of abducting two British citizens suspected of being terrorists and handing them over to the CIA for torture. The Ghost digs deeper into the mysterious death as well as the accusations leveled against Lang.

The allusions to today’s political landscape are obvious and sometimes hammered home too hard. Lang, played with a fierce bluster by Brosnan, is loosely based on Tony Blair with just a dash of Bill Clinton thrown in for good measure. Lang is having an affair with his assistant Amelia Bly (Kim Cattrall) while his dutiful wife, Ruth (Olivia Williams) steadfastly stands by his side in public. He is portrayed as a glorified lackey to the American government with shady ties to a military-industrial conglomerate known as Hatherton. About as subtle as calling them Schmalliburton, I suppose.

Polanski instills a cold and sullen mood to the The Ghost Writer. The majority of the film is set in Martha’s Vineyard and there is a constant gloomy overcast, about as gloomy as the specter of scandal and death hanging over everyone’s head. Lang’s retreat is just as cold. It is an angular, ultra-modern hideaway ironically laden with expansive glass windows looking over the island coast.

The final verdict on The Ghost Writer hinges not on any on-screen happenings, but in Polanski’s own personal proclivities. While I certainly have no problem with separating the personal with the professional, it’s difficult to do so when it’s rubbed right in your face. Much of the story involves the International Criminal Court attempting to prosecute Lang as a war criminal. Lang must choose between fighting the charges in his native England and staying in America where he will not be extradited. If you know anything about Polanski, the parallels need no explanation. The subtext boils to an uneasy conclusion in which the accused is laid blameless and the fault is laid firmly at the feet of a woman.

Rating: **