Seriously Overdue Movie Reviews - 2010 Catch-up, Part II: Dinner for Schmucks, Animal Kingdom, The Ghost Writer, Machete

Dinner for Schmucks
To its credit, Dinner for Schmucks has a lot more going for it than just about any other comedy that you'll end up thinking terribly of.

Of course, by "a lot," I'm really only referring to two aspects of the film, so you can see pretty quickly why they ended up carrying little weight overall. Clearly, the world of film is in need of more dioramas starring taxidermal animals, just as the infusion of can't-not-be-funny Jemaine Clement is never a bad idea.

Unfortunately, the remains of dead mice are funnier than Steve Carell, playing a buffoon that might kindly be described as "cartoonish" and harshly described as "an insult to the mentally challenged." I wasn't all that offended by the portrayal and treatment of this deranged individual (though a few utterances of "That's just wrong." no doubt slipped from my lips), but was left pretty sour at the severe lack of funny.

If you love movies with poor physical comedy and life lessons about how the retarded can teach all of us self-centered folk to be more caring, this was the movie of last year. If not, avoid at all costs (but do check out the taxidermy work on display in the film - it's phenomenal).

Fletch's Film Rating:

	Expectation: "You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you."
	Reality: "I want you to punch me as hard as you can."

LAMBScore:

Animal Kingdom
It's funny how much your relative familiarity with a cast can influence your thoughts on a film. I might have seen many of the cast members of Animal Kingdom prior to seeing it, but if I had I didn't recall (i.e. Luke Ford, who I didn't know until just now co-starring as Brendan Fraser's son in the third Mummy film...of course, I didn't bother to watch the whole thing, but that's another story). The draws for the film to me were the words of Tom Clift some months before it was even released in America, along with the inclusion of Guy Pearce and Joel Edgerton, two favorites of mine (who, incidentally, don't have very large roles in the movie).

What I was left with was a cast of unknowns (to me). you wouldn't think it would or could have such a large effect on you, but the benefit to the film was significant. I was going in pretty cold, not only with the story, but with all archetypes and pre-conceived notions of what types of characters these actors 'normally' play gone from my head. Rather than, for example, seeing Ben Mendelsohn and thinking "Well, let's see what type of creep he comes up with this time" [which may or may not even be the case], I was put in the shoes of the main character, "J" (James Frecheville). J is a son with no parents, forced by the nasty circumstances of life to live with his grandmother and uncles - a family he doesn't know at all. The film tracks his getting to know them -who's the pack leader, who's the runt, who's the wild card - and having to navigate his way in or out of the clan.

This is writer-director David Michôd's first feature, and it's a compelling, brilliantly acted crime saga...keep an eye out for more.

Fletch's Film Rating:

	Expectation: "It's in the hole!"
	Reality: "It's in the hole!"

LAMBScore:

The Ghost Writer
Roman Polanski's latest is equal parts whodunit and political commentary, marked by touches elegant (Ewan McGregor's ghost is just that, as his character is never even granted a name) and odd (the casting of Kim Catrall proved distracting more than anything). It comes as no shock that Polanski had a hand in writing the screenplay, as the stamp of his true-life exile situation is emblazoned all over the arc of Pierce Brosnan's Tony Blair-ish former Prime Minister. It adds an extra layer of depth (as well as some humor) to the proceedings, but despite my liking it, is probably too on the nose and out there. As much fun as it is to see the director thumbing his nose at authorities, it's about as subtle as a frying pan to the face and is only ancillary to the murder mystery at hand.

McGregor is solid playing an everyman, but as usual, it's Olivia Williams that steals the show as Brosnan's wife. That she wasn't given more attention come awards season is expected yet still depressing - hell, it's practically become the hallmark of her career (Rushmore and An Education come to mind as well).

Fletch's Film Rating:

	Expectation: "Darn tootin."
	Reality: "Darn tootin."

LAMBScore:

Machete
The problem with Machete is not that it is political - at their basest level, exploitation films are meant to be so. The problem is that every time Machete heads down that road, director Robert Rodriguez brings the vehicle to a screeching halt and tears his kids (the fun) out of the back seat and proceeds to spank them (the political messages) on the side of the road before taking off again.

I was one of those folks that was screaming "They gotta make that into a full-length feature!" when the faux trailer premiered during the Grindhouse intermission. The premise was can't-miss: Danny Trejo starring as an innocent man wronged by corrupt politicians, out for revenge with his trusty machete by his side and a penchant for nailing any and all hot babes that happen to get in his way. It was full of insanely over-the-top action sequences (the flying motorcycle) and nudity and overacting.

In extending the trailer to a full-length feature, though, Rodriguez saw the chance to capitalize on the never ending immigration debate, a chance to put his .02 in loud and clear. Nothing necessarily wrong with that, but I have a request for you, Bob, should you decide to make something along these lines again: don't forget that you're making a B movie.

Fletch's Film Rating:

	Expectation: "It's in the hole!"
	Reality: "You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you."

LAMBScore: