Savages

Director: Oliver Stone
Starring: Taylor Kitsch, Blake Lively, Aaron Johnson, John Travolta, Benicio del Toro, Salma Hayek, John Travolta, Demian Bichir, Emile Hirsch
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Savages just might be the best recent example of how a misguided ending can help unravel a film brimming with greatness. That's not to say its entirely great up to that point, but it definitely has its patches, thanks in no small part to who's behind the camera. That Oliver Stone still manages to save this says a lot. But the best news just might be that the director's back in full U-Turn mode here, meaning that anyone who prefers the filmmaker who pedaled glorious trash like that and Natural Born Killers to the more politically inclined dramatist who gave us JFK, Nixon and Born on the Fourth of July, will find little to dislike. That the same man is responsible for all these is impressive in itself and in many ways makes him the ideal choice to adapt Don Winslow's best selling novel. It just might be the most fitting match of director and material in a long time, containing on paper all the combustible elements that should cement it amongst the year's best. Yet strangely, it isn't. While I wouldn't go as far as to say that it's merely just a well executed crime thriller, there's this inescapable feeling when it ends that I should have left wit more than I got. But it's entertaining as hell, features a few really wild performances, and is easy to imagine re-watching, even while taking little new away from each viewing. The movie is one giant distraction, but that's okay since it's tough to deny we're all in need some of those every once in a while, especially if it's this fun.

When a movie's opening line is, "Just because I'm telling you this story doesn't mean I'm alive at the end," it's a pretty good bet much will go down in the ensuing two hours. And it does. That possible tease is delivered by the film's narrator, a blond, tattooed California hippie named O./A.K.A. Ophelia (Blake Lively), who's living a charmed, laid back Laguna Beach lifestyle with her two successful pot growing boyfriends Chon (Taylor Kitsch) and Ben (Aaron Johnson). Chon, an Iraq War veteran, is the muscles who handles the dirty work while the more peace-loving Ben is the brains, using his brilliance as a botanist to turn their operation into the best in Southern California. It's so great that it's attracted the attention of a dangerous Mexican cartel headed by the cold, ruthless Elena Sanchez (Salma Hayek), whose men demand that they turn over a stake of their business or face serious consequences. Not wanting to make any waves, Ben wants to take the deal while the hot-headed Chon thinks they should take O. and flee to Indonesia as soon as possible. But under orders from Elena, the cartel's maniacal enforcer Lado (Benicio del Toro) kidnaps O. and the guys will have to play by their rules in order to see her returned to them alive. Their only hope might be their crooked DEA agent pal Dennis (John Travolta), who's clearly playing both sides of the fence while always looking out for number one.

The opening scenes do their job in establishing that Chon and Ben could qualify as two of the luckiest movie protagonists we've seen in a while. Just on principle, it's likely every straight male audience member could hate them from the get-go considering their biggest problem in life is deciding who gets to share the bed and bathtub with Blake Lively and on which day. Similarly, O's not making out too bad  herself, so it's an arrangement they're all understandably happy with until the cartel enters the picture, threatening not only their perfect hedonistic lifestyle, but all their lives. Especially O's. After a bit too much over-explanatory voiceovers and flashbacks to start, it turns out to be a credit to co-writer Stone and the actors that once the action gets going and all the narrative and visual flourishes are abandoned, we do develop a certain degree sympathy for characters who aren't exactly the easiest to sympathize with. Young, reckless, entitled and seemingly untouchable, all three are given a rude awakening when they realize they're in over their heads with these monsters.

The most interesting aspect of the film by far is the strange mother-daughter dynamic that develops between Elena and O., which starts bordering on a Stockholm Syndrome. Each seems to fill a void in the other, with captor starting to view her hostage as a surrogate for her estranged daughter and and O. looking to her as the parental figure she never had. All of this is very subtle and well written, mostly contained to a single sensational dining room scene where Elena questions whether O's seemingly perfect relationship with Chon and Ben really is as perfect as she thinks it is and whether their loyalty to each other trumps their feelings for her. Coming off her well-received supporting performance in The Town a couple of years ago, Lively impresses again in a worthy follow-up choice that definitely puts her through the wringer. I can't say another performer couldn't have done it better (maybe, maybe not), but she's completely believable in a performance that doesn't contain much depth, and doesn't need to since O's kind of a shallow of character to begin with.

Kitsch and Johnson are essentially playing polar opposites and do it well, so it's shame this was unfairly thrown in with John Carter and Battleship as another check in the loss column for Kitsch, since it represents exactly the kind of edgy supporting part he should be taking at this stage. And also probably the closest he's gotten to the brooding, quiet intensity he displayed as Tim Riggins on Friday Night Lights. Johnson is probably the strongest presence of the three but it hardly matters since it's the actual "savages" that  really carry this, with Hayek tearing into her meatiest role in ages as the scary but somewhat sympathetic Elena, and del Toro emotionally unstable and terrifying in just about every minute of screen time he's given. Travolta has fun hamming it up as the crooked DEA agent, providing the movie with most of its comic relief.

Without giving too much away, the film hits a big stumbling block in its final act. It's one of those things that even those who worked on the picture would have a tough time justifying or explaining from a creative standpoint. There's what seems to be a beautiful, poetic ending and then they just pull the rug out to instead give us a far less satisfying conclusion. It's not so much this actual ending that's a problem but more the cheap, manipulative way it's presented and how unfairly it plays. Not knowing how true the screenplay is to Winslow's novel, my guess just watching it would be that the studio forced Stone to make last minute changes in fear of alienating audiences who might want to go home happy and smiling. You know, come skipping out the theater from a movie about drugs, sex, murder, and kidnapping that's titled Savages. As if audiences hadn't a clue what they got into. That it doesn't seem to be about any those things when it very much is, could be the film's greatest strength. And I'm still debating whether a better ending even would have necessarily made a huge difference. This is primarily about visceral thrills and its tough to deny Stone brings those in spades. Savages is junk food for sure, but at least it's quality junk food for an adult audience that's too often criminally underserved during the summer movie season.

Hairspray

Director: Adam Shankman
Starring: Nikki Blonsky, John Travolta, Amanda Bynes, Michelle Pfeiffer, Christopher Walken, Queen Latifah, James Marsden, Brittany Snow, Zac Efron, Elijah Kelley, Allison Janney
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: PG

**1/2 (out of ****)

It would be unfair of me to review Hairspray without first mentioning that I'm not that big a fan of musicals. I've seen and enjoyed many Broadway shows and from time to time I'll see a movie musical that I think works. Other than that I've always just thought it was a tough sell on screen that someone would just burst out in song unless the film is filled with unequaled passion and is supported by an incredible story. Otherwise, it just seems like a joke. Even the musical genre's most virulent supporters would admit it tends to work better on stage than on screen. So when I heard they were planning a remake of John Waters' 1988 cult camp classic Hairspray, based largely on its recent Broadway adaptation, I cringed. I was looking forward to this about as much as surgery without anesthesia.

As I suspected Adam Shankman's Hairspray is a spectacularly stupid movie and a pointless remake but it does work for what it is. There are times though where I just can't stand what it is. All the bite from Waters' version is gone and replaced with silliness, but the musical numbers really soar. I should probably recommend it, but I just found it inescapable how obvious and simplistic the story was. Waters' version didn't call attention to that. This does.

When the actors aren't singing they're busy making cartoonish faces at one another and there's hardly a performance of real, sustaining value in the film, with one very notable exception. And it comes from a girl who's never acted before, though you'd never know it. She runs circles around everyone else, carrying this entire enterprise on her backing in the starring role. If you saw the movie just for her performance it would probably be worth it.

It's Baltimore, Maryland in 1962 and "pleasantly plump" teenager Tracy Turnblad (Nikki Blonsky) runs home form school every day with her best friend Penny Pingleton (Amanda Bynes) to watch The Corny Collins Show, a teen dance program in the vain of American Bandstand hosted by the charismatic Seacrest/Clark clone Collins (James Marsden). Tracy dreams of appearing on the show, something her mother Edna (John Travolta), an obese live-in laundress, discourages but her nerdy father (Christopher Walkin) blindly supports. When the show holds open tryouts Tracy is immediately criticized and dismissed as being too fat by the show's bitchy producer Velma Von Tussle (Michelle Pfeiffer) but Collins likes her and she's asked back.

Soon Tracy becomes an overnight sensation, but Velma's death grip on the show tightens as she tries to push her equally obnoxious daughter Amber (Brittany Snow) and her boyfriend Link Larkin (Zac Efron) as stars. Unfortunately for Amber it isn't long before Link only has eyes for Tracy. Velma makes plans to cancel "Negro Day" on the show, hosted by local R&B radio D.J. Motormouth Maybelle (Queen Latifah) and featuring her son Seaweed (Elijah Kelley). Here the film takes a sharp left turn into a parable on racism as Tracy organizes a protest march with the goal of integrating the show.

The events in Hairspray are supposed to take place in "1962" but really they don't at all. They take place in "fantasy movie land 1962" where a bunch of actors are singing and dancing on a spotless Hollywood soundstage wearing close approximations of 60's clothing. Musicals are supposed to exist in a kind of faux-reality so that's fine. Or at least it's fine until the very real issue of racism is introduced into the story in a fun, lighthearted way. I'm not in any way implying the film is offensive or tasteless, just that it's somewhat uncomfortable watching actors sing and dance about a topic like that.

The movie clearly wants to have a campy cartoon atmosphere and has its heart in the right place but when that element is introduced it's a clash and a feeling of uneasiness accompanies the rest of the picture. It isn't a major problem, but it is a noticeable, lingering one that hovers over most of the movie. The filmmakers were put in a tough spot here having to incorporate the dark element of racism into a PG-rated musical love fest and weren't entirely successful. In their defense, few would be. Those were the cards they were dealt with this story and they had no choice but to play them. Still, it doesn't come off that well.

The musical numbers are excellently choreographed and loads of fun with many of the actors give impressive vocal performances and those who don't more than make up for it with their charisma. As entertaining as it was though I just couldn't help but look at my watch and count down to exactly when certain events in the film would occur. I was right on cue most of the time. This created a sense of boredom for me even though what was happening onscreen was often far from boring. The screenplay has no surprises and veers very little from the 1988 version from the narrative standpoint. While Waters version made a trite, clichéd story seem surprising this doesn't because the tone is dumbed down for mainstream audiences.

There was a huge media blitz surrounding the film because of John Travolta's presence in drag, which is appropriate because that publicity looks like the only basis for the casting decision. When you look at Edna Turnblad all you see is Travolta dressed like a woman with a prosthetic face. This isn't a character or a performance. It's just a stunt to bring audiences into the theater and Travolta does nothing with the role other than invoke a high-pitched "girly" voice. That this is one his least embarrassing performances in recent years and has garnered high praise reveals more about the direction of his career than I wished to know.

I'm always interested when I hear stories of people plucked from obscurity in open casting calls to star in major motion picture. Nikki Blonsky was working part-time at an ice cream shop when she was discovered for the role of Tracy and you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone more suited for it. It's fascinating because casting stories like this suggest that a lot of acting isn't necessarily something that can be taught. Certain actors just have it and others, no matter how long they've been plugging away or how much training they have, don't. They lack charisma, which is probably the single most important factor in becoming a successful performer. Blonsky has it in spades.

She holds the screen with fire and energy from the first second she appears all the way to the closing credits. This proves that sometimes for certain roles (especially ones like this) it helps to hit the street and find a regular person with little experience so they're not bogged down with actorish mannerisms. Plus, we see movies to spend time with characters that are in some ways a reflection of who we are. No one would understand that better than someone who actually is and that her story mirrors Tracy's could have only helped the performance.

Efron and Marsden are suitable in roles that don't demand anything while relative newcomer Elijah Kelley is magnetic in his scenes as Seaweed. Christopher Walken is one of those actors who could show up to read to phone book and it would be interesting. Here he brings his typical zany weirdness to the role of Tracy's father and is particularly hysterical in a scene where Pfeifer's character is trying (unsuccessfully) to seduce him in his gag store.

I had a strange reaction to Pfeifer's Velma. I hated her but I'm not sure it was for the reasons I was supposed to. Of course, she's a racist and we should hate her but this was different. I just didn't want to see her onscreen or in the movie. I didn't like looking at her or listening to her and I'm not entirely sure it had anything to do with Pfeifer's performance which is grotesque, but appropriate. At least it's not the worst performance in the film. That dubious honor goes to Amanda Bynes who somehow manages to be excruciatingly annoying despite having very few lines of dialogue or an important part at all. She just seems to stand there sucking on her lollipop and making goofy faces. I know since this is a musical I'm supposed to praise broad characterizations and exaggerated performances but this time it's difficult. The broad supporting performances work for the material, but at times they're irritating.

In many ways reviewing Hairspray is a conundrum since the film could be considered the very definition of a "mixed bag." I'm not recommending it, but only by the skin of its teeth because I think most people will enjoy it for what it's supposed to be. Anyone looking for a light, fun ride will be satisfied, but despite its energy I felt strangely deflated at the end, almost as if I didn't really experience anything at all. Or at least anything I could get really excited about.

There was just no need for this other than to make money off the name of a superior film. Anyone could just rent the Waters version instead and know they came away with the better deal. And Waters can comfort himself with the fact that he at least has a really funny cameo early in the film. The pieces don't all fit together with this one but it's far from a failure and tough to pinpoint exactly what could have been done differently to make it better. Maybe the question should instead be whether it needed to be done at all.