Death to Smoochy; A Review

You remember the Dream Team don’t you? The first year the Olympics allowed professional basketball players to participate in the games. We were all so excited to see these hoops giants (literally and figuratively) all on the same team. But then the games began and the games were horrifically boring. They were about as interesting as a Picasso paint by numbers or reading an Emily Dickinson greeting card. They were the greatest players in the game but couldn’t show it against teams that either didn’t have the funding to properly train or teams that knew more about baklava than basketball. In truth, the Dream Team admitted that they were more interested in the opportunity to play with each other than they were in playing against other teams.

This is the same feeling you get when watching some movies with several heavy Hollywood hitters. Sometimes the actors/directors are so interested in working with each other, they don’t really pay much attention to what it is they choose to work on. They figure that with so much talent involved, the product will certainly be good enough. Unfortunately, as Death to Smoochy, teaches us, ample talent does not a great movie make.

Edward Norton, Robin Williams and a strong supporting cast including director Danny DeVito put their best feet forward in this dark comedy about the evils and rivalries of Children’s Television. And despite a few truly funny moments the film falls victim to a mediocre script. Adam Resnick, screenwriter from the ridiculous Cabin Boy uses all the clichés of Hollywood without using any of its helpful standards of story development and “Keep it simple stupid.” The film relies pretty heavily on truly foul language and some cheap slapstick. In its effort to be edgy it ends up irreverent and usually just tired. The only problem with being edgy these days is that everybody else is doing it. It makes me think of that scene in Monty Python’s The Life of Brian, where an entire crowd is yelling “We’re individuals!” And one guy in the back yells out “I’m not.” Death to Smoochy is nothing new and its unfortunately not even very good formula.

Look for the DVD on this one, because my guess is that the real fun came on the set with these talented and genuinely funny people. The outtakes and deleted scenes will most likely make it worth the rental.

Crazy/Beautiful; A film review "Loving Enough to Change"

First things first. This is not a teen movie. It takes place in the setting of teen life, but as with all art it is ultimately about humanity.

Carlos Nunez (Jay Hernandez) is a kid from the barrios of East LA who gets bussed two hours away to Pacific Heights High School because his grades are good. He’s a hard-working self-made young man whose family is poor but ceaselessly unified and supportive. Carlos’s dream is to become a naval pilot. On the way to his dreams he comes across Nicole Oakley (Kirsten Dunst), a rich Senator’s daughter who is more worried about getting high than getting high grades. There is a spark, however and the two quickly fall in love.

[SPOLERS to follow]
At first, the viewer finds themselves cringing at the recklessness Nicole uses around Carlos. It is as though he is your own son while you watch the film and you want him to get as far away from this girl as possible. But he doesn’t, even upon the urging of Nicole’s own father, he risks his future to love her. Like any well-written work of art there is room left on both sides of the issue. For example, while Nicole seems to be throwing away the many blessings she’s been given, Carlos seems to gain some much needed freedom from his own Earth-sized burdens by spending time with her. The two are molded by each other postively. Their relationship is the antithesis of the one we find in the film Leaving Las Vegas. One man, who's lost his family palns to drink himself to death and in the process meets a prostitute and the two develop a relationship. The entire premise of the relationship is that real love doesn't ask someone to change. And so, over the course of the film we see them devolving to the depths that those lifestyles will lead to, but niether believes it is their right to ask them to change. The consummation of their relationship (the only time they actually have sex) is on his death bed. Their union is complete, a dying drunk making love to a beaten and broken prostitute. Leaving Las Vegas might be right about not asking someone you love to change, but their is another aspect to it. The one receiving the love is moved to change for the one who loves them. Not because they've asked, but because, in the words of Jack Nicholson's character in "As Good As It Gets" "You make me want to be a better man. In the end of Crazy/Beautiful it is Carlos’s choice to love Nicole rather than listen to conventional wisdom that brings her to a repentant state.

This brings up some interesting questions for all of us as the word “Boundaries” is becoming as common on the shelves of the Bible bookstore as it is on Oprah. Where do we draw the line for ourselves? At what point do we say, “I want to love this person, but they will only hurt me, so I need to watch out for myself.” Nicole’s step-mother feels that way about her own daughter, Nicole’s half-sister. Despite the step-mother's best intentions, she is concerned about the kind of home her own daughter will grow up in, with a drug-using, promiscuous sister. When do we cut our losses on someone and walk away for our own good or for the good of our family? Do we talk to and give money to a bum on the street with our wife and kids present? Do we move into traditionally crime-ridden neighborhoods to make them our mission field when our families could be risked? How much do we risk to love? And is it our right to risk others in our care to love? There probably are no definitive answers, and certainly Crazy/Beautiful doesn’t pretend to have one. But it does remind us that second chances can make life changes. That sometimes what is “smart” isn’t always what is “loving.”

The supporting cast is very strong here, and there is a realism and grit to every performance that implies the director may have allowed for some improvisational work and several takes. A film attacking such familiar territory (IE Love across class lines) could've easily slipped into cliche. But this film did not. Kirsten Dunst shines brightly here and I'm anxious to see Jay Hernandez in more films.

Biggie and Tupac; A Film Review

A documentary entitled Biggie & Tupac directed by a member of the Hip-Hop community would most likely be dismissed as a full-length fan film, or a glorification of the violent subculture that emerged around these two artists. However, british filmmaker, Nick Broomfield is about as unHip-Hop as they come, and his obvious unbiased third-party role gives the film a bit of credibility. Broomfield has a knack for finding timeless truth amidst flash-in-the-pan pop culture news. And the Biggie & Tupac story is no exception.

Rappers The Notorious B.I.G. and Tupac Shakur were once friends. Rare photos and films capture them hugging or posing together. But then something terrible happened to their friendship. They both became successful. And within one year they were both gunned down in the street. The story widely accepted by police and the mainstream press was that rivalries between an east coast camp and west coast camp had escalated to the point of violence. With involvement by the two largest national gang franchises, the crips and the bloods, most people were content to pigeon-hole these incidents and their connected riots as typical to the violent world of do-rags and baggy jeans. However, as this film investigates, the story may be a bit uglier and far-reaching.

The film uncovers a good deal of evidence to indicate that these were not, in fact, gang-inspired murders, but that the murder of Tupac was orchestrated by his own producer, Shug Night, who owed him over 10 million dollars in royalties. And uglier still, it is believed that several members of the Los Angeles police department were on the payroll of Shug Night and were possibly the hired hitmen. The primary source of information for Broomfield is an LAPD officer who recommended to his superior investigating cops who might be committing illegal acts under the employ of Shug Night. But he was quieted and has since resigned from the department. One more level of ugliness exists, it seems that in the “retalitory” killing of Biggie, which may also have been orchestrated by Shug Night, the FBI was doing surveillance of Biggie. And yet, couldn’t stop his assassination. Or wouldn’t.

Despite the life-threatening interviews and grave implications of the filmmaker’s discoveries there is a levity to it all. As a British guy, who wouldn’t even know where Compton was if it weren’t part of the story, Broomfield uses an almost self-depreciating style to get into the most “forbidden” of places. His greatest capacity, and the film’s most entertaining aspect, is taking the noble-sounding words and political statements made by those involved and stripping them down to what they really are. Desperate attempts to veil their immensely selfish and opportunistic behaviors from the world and from themselves. The story is ultimately a thematic Romeo & Juliet. The main characters lie dead and as the smoke clears the finger of blame points to the pride and greed of those left standing.

The film ends with an interveiw of Shug Night, who was, at the time of filming, in prison. He claims he wants to make a “positive statement for the kids” which ends up being a no-so-veiled order to his minions to kill Snoop Dogg, his latest enemy. The message is, in fact, for the kids. For the next generation is being groomed for fame, and in turn, exploitation.

Note: This film can be seen at the Los Angeles Film Festival on June 23, 2002 and will be in limited release naionwide on August 9, 2002.

Related Links: www.nickbroomfield.com Death Row Records, now called Tha Row http://www.tharow.com/2003/

City of Angels; Film Review

When a movie is made concerning the afterlife or angels you can almost hear the evangelical community raise a collective groan. And with films like “Michael” and “The Preacher’s Wife” they have every reason to groan. Angel films are dangerous territory. It is virtually impossible to construct a theologically adequate angel scenario and still have time for a story. City of Angels finds itself entangled in the metaphysics of angel movies, but miraculously, this is the films only flaw.
The concept is a simple one. Seth (Nicolas Cage) is an angel. Maggie (Meg Ryan) is a human. Seth falls in love with Maggie. When he learns that angels have “free will” to “fall” he must decide what course of action he will take. As much as this sounds like The Preacher’s Wife, it is as far from every other angel movie as it could possibly be. The first notable difference is the complete lack of angel clichés. All of the angels wear black. They don’t have wings. There are no halos. In fact, the word “angel” is never used in the dialogue. There is no walking through walls or floating objects. The angels wander the Earth with tasks such as keeping air traffic controllers alert and escorting the souls of the dying to . . . (we assume) heaven. At the end of every day, they gather at the beach at sunset to hear “the music.” I appreciated this refreshing take on angelic metaphysics.
City of Angels is, in short, an exploration of man’s divinity. Humanity is depraved, but the experience of life is a perfect gift from God. Pain, joy, sex, food, sleep, hot showers and death are part of a perfect plan. Seth, and his closest angel pal, often discuss their curiosity about the experience of being human. One of Seth’s favorite hobbies, while escorting souls to the hereafter, is to ask “What was your favorite part?” -- as though, they were coming away from a roller coaster ride. One young girl answers Seth’s inquiry very simply. “Pajamas.”
This movie is one of the finest examples of using media to convey message. For example, the entire film is extremely textured. The cinematography shows a very tactile world. This is a perfect companion to Seth’s fascination with human senses. Angels can’t taste, smell, sense touch or feel pain. They can only see in black and white and they, of course, don’t have sex. They have only what they need to fill out their purpose in the universe. Which, in turn, may mean that humans, with their vast array of senses and feelings have as their purpose, life. There are several extreme close ups of Maggie’s face, that show the pores of her skin. It’s as though the director is telling us that the complexity of her and the wonder that lies in every cell is what makes her human and what makes her divine. Seth, in one scene, is asking Maggie about the pear she is eating. She looks a little confused and says, “You know what a pear tastes like.” And he replies, “I don’t know what a pear tastes like to you.” This is a legitimate question for an angel to ask, but the truth is it would be a fine question for anyone. Part of the beauty of humanity is the myriad of ways we experience the world around us.
Ryan, Cage and Dennis Franz (NYPD Blue) could give As Good As It Gets a run for its money for “Best Ensemble Cast.” The soundtrack is the best compilation I have seen in years. Not only for the strength of the musicians, but also for the appropriateness of the songs. When Sarah McLachan’s “Angel” started playing, I was putty in the director’s hands. The editing and cinematography are superb.
Ultimately, any Christian viewer will walk away from this film asking a dozen different questions about the theological ramifications of the universe as seen in City of Angels. I encourage such conversations. However, I hope and pray that Christians will be able to cut through the doctrinal red tape that any film of this nature will have, and see the power of the best movie of 1998 thus far.