Seven PoundsPossible alternate title: Will Smith Has a Martyr Complex. Seriously, if any actor has ever been more ripe for a killer villain role, I'd like to hear it. Some 15 years ago, The World's Biggest Star At The Time took on not just a heel role, but a controversial one at that - namely, Tom Cruise as Lestat in Interview with the Vampire. Though you'd be hard-pressed to state that Cruise's career was either in flux prior to Vampire (it was on the heels of A Few Good Men and The Firm) or saw a wild hot streak after (Mission: Impossible, Jerry Maguire), it's fair to say that Lestat was just the creative spark that took Cruise's career to another level. At the very least, it kept us from being lulled to sleep by role after role of endearing do-gooders.
Now it's Smith's turn. It doesn't seem like it, but Smith's been in 18 films, and has been the headlining star in 10 of them since 2000 (not including Legendarily Baggy Pants, in which he shared top billing with - or even took second to- Matt Damon. With Seven Pounds, he re-teams with the director of the film that netted him his second Academy Award nomination (The Pursuit of Happyness) and grants a similarly impressive performance...in a subpar film. You'll be forgiven, though, for neglecting the strong acting as you're distracted by the lame, pay-it-forward plot that's insulting enough to show you the end of the film in the beginning, only to act like it's showing you something new in the end. It's as though the writer and director thought their little twist was soooooo good that they neglected to bother making the rest of the film stand up to the denouement.
Fletch's Film Rating:
"Whatever."
Frost/NixonI hate to make generalizations, but I seem to be stuck in a rut in terms of critiquing historical dramas, specifically those based on a specific event and/or biopics. I noticed it first with Milk (which had me hearkening back to Ray and Walk the Line) and had my feelings entrenched a bit further with Frost/Nixon.
It goes something like this: these types of films are almost exclusively made by veteran, well-respected directors (Ron Howard, Gus Van Sant, Oliver Stone). They almost exclusively star top-notch actors, in it almost exclusively (so it seems) for an Academy nod. There's nothing wrong with these things, I'm just calling it like I see it.
The problem is, the films all seem to blend together, they rarely show any style or panache, and they're easily forgettable. Well-acted, well-directed, well-produced, pedigreed, good-to-great films that I can almost definitely say will never rank amongst my favorite films. I almost think they should be given their own "Best Picture" category at the Academy Awards; after all, I'm sure that both Milk and Frost/Nixon will be on the very short list for Best Picture, but I'm also sure that I'd be pissed if either won.
That said, Frost will likely place somewhere in my year-end top 10, and is worth your time. Yeah, I know - the hypocrisy of that pisses me off, too. I just don't know how else to explain it.
Fletch's Film Rating:
"It's in the hole!"
The Tale of DesperauxYea, we went to see a kid's film, got a problem with it?
But seriously, Mrs. Fletch, a graphic designer by trade, had been itching to see the beautifully animated Desperaux for months. You know what? It's worth it, too. It might not be as digitally crisp as Ratatouille was, but it's got loads more pizazz and vision, from the multiple animation styles to the imaginative camera angles and more. It also has much more charismatic leads, in the form of Dustin Hoffman's worldly rat Roscurro and Matthew Broderick's fearless, noble Desperaux, and that rarity in film these days - narration (by Sigourney Weaver) that helps the film along and entertains rather than merely stating obviousness and acting as an obstacle.
On top of that, it features an Ocean's-like cast, but here it's made up almost entirely of Academy Award-nominated actors, from Frank Langella to William H. Macy to Kevin Kline, Stanley Tucci, Richard Jenkins, Weaver, Hoffman and Broderick. Fans of Arrested Development will even get a dose of Buster (Tony Hale) - always a welcome sight (or sound).
If the somber tones of The Reader or Gran Torino have got you in the holiday doldrums, let yourself instead be whisked away by Desperaux. (How's that for a blurbified statement?)
Fletch's Film Rating:
"Darn tootin!"
