A Complete Unknown

Director: James Mangold
Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Edward Norton, Elle Fanning, Monica Barbaro, Boyd Holbrook, Dan Fogler, Norbert Leo Butz, Eriko Hatsune, Scoot McNairy, P.J. Byrne, Michael Chernus, Charlie Tahan
Running Time: 141 min.
Rating: R

★★★½ (out of ★★★★)

When a quality musical biopic comes around, whatever praise it receives is usually accompanied by some dismissive, backhanded compliment about it not feeling like one. As if the entire genre only exists to chronologically retrace a public figure's life with little insight or nuance. So for skeptics, it's probably best not to label James Mangold's A Complete Unknown a biopic, but a great film Bob Dylan happens to be at the center of. Besides referencing his famous lyric, its clever title doubles as a description of the man himself, which could have only helped in convincing the notoriously picky and cantankerous artist to sign off on Mangold and co-writer James Cocks' script. 

That it's based on Elijah Wald's 2015 book Dylan Goes Electric!, gives us a pretty good idea all roads will lead to his controversial 1965 Newport Folk Festival performance that turned the music world upside down. Filtered through the prism of Timothée Chalamet's disappearing act, we get glimpses of the sensitive, creative genius at his peak who's also defined by a selfish, obsessive perfectionism that pushes away those closest to him. And though fame was an entirely different animal back then, it's fun and fascinating to watch Dylan subvert his while still remaining repulsed by the whole idea of it.

It's 1961 when a 19-year-old Bob Dylan (Chalamet) hitchhikes from Minnesota to find his idol, folk legend Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy), who's in a New Jersey hospital slowly succumbing to Huntington's Disease. Upon his arrival, Dylan meets Woody and his good friend Pete Seeger (Edward Norton), who are both blown away by the young man's singing and songwriting talents. Pete invites Dylan to crash at his house, introducing him to New York's Greenwich Village folk scene and rising star Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), who he immediately takes a liking to. 

After being signed to a record deal by manager Albert Grossman (Dan Fogler), Dylan embarks on a relationship with artist Sylvie Russo (Elle Fanning), who grows frustrated by his standoffish behavior and inability to open up to her. But as Dylan's popularity skyrockets amid the political turmoil of the 60's, he strays from folk's traditional roots to embrace more modern, socially conscious songwriting. While Pete and the folk community disapprove of Dylan's plans to bring a polarizing new sound to the masses, Sylvie is increasingly alarmed by his growing connection with Baez.  

Because this period represents the most vital slice of Dylan's development, Mangold consciously avoids making pit stops through the various stages of the legendary singer's career, instead dropping him into his own story, seemingly out of nowhere. Neither Pete or an ailing Guthrie have a clue who this kid is, but after picking up the guitar and working his magic, none of that matters. 

Fanning's Sylvie isn't just the film's fictionalized version of Dylan's real-life girlfriend Suze Rotolo (best known for appearing alongside him on the album cover for 1963's The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan) but the only person interested in who he actually is. But in prodding the former Robert Zimmerman about his days working at a traveling carnival, she only awakens a more temperamental side to his personality. If she views a person's past as the gateway to their soul, Dylan merely sees it as an inconvenient obstacle in crafting an entirely new persona out of whole cloth. 

The soft spoken warmth in Norton's portrayal of Pete Seeger prompts us to suspect the folk legend would have still taken Dylan in knowing the repercussions his protégé's choices would have on folk and how negatively he'd feel about it. While Dylan's respect for the genre is unquestioned, he only sees a dead end recording cover songs from previous generations while society yearns for something that addresses their current reality.

The Baez partnership is best described as magical onstage but parasitic off it. While Mangold definitely takes some liberties and fudges the timeline a bit, the essence of how they became so inextricably linked does shine through, particularly in the stage performances. Career-wise, she doesn't actually need Dylan, so while they both artistically benefit, it creates an uneven power dynamic because he's a control freak, as some geniuses are. Gifting her "Blowin' in the Wind" is where his generosity stops, at least once he discovers she won't be catering to his every whim. 

Sylvie painfully realizing the palpable bond between Dylan and Baez as they perform is the closest Mangold comes to pedaling in familiar tropes, but Fanning makes the plight of a long suffering girlfriend ring true, effectively conveying the frustration of putting up with an emotionally inaccessible partner who views relationships as disposable. So even while movie's reverence for Dylan's work is persistent, this isn't a saintly, fawning depiction of him in other respects.

If the running joke about Chalamet learning how to sing badly enough to play Dylan holds any truth, he passes the test, nailing that nasally, rambling inflection as he tears through timeless classics like "Girl from the North Country," "Like a Rolling Stone," "Mr. Tambourine Man," "Masters of War" and "The Times They Are a-Changin'." Despite only scratching the surface of music's richest catalogue, the film undeniably hits the key peaks of his early to mid 60's output while Francois Audouy's production design and Arianne Phillips' costuming helps provide the transportive backdrop.  

Any criticisms leveled against Dylan never stuck because he had a perfect voice for the songs he wrote, forever marking him as a storyteller before all else. He was also a prickly, complicated personality that Chalamet effectively blends with an aloofness and underdog quality worth rooting for. Once Dylan enters his most recognizable black turtleneck/sunglasses phase, the actor completes his full immersion, becoming stranger, moodier and more withdrawn in the celebrity spotlight.

Feeling the burn of getting too close to an almost casually cruel Dylan, Monica Barbaro captivates as the increasingly frustrated Baez who tires of his games. Justifiably tiring of his games. she risks becoming collateral damage in his quest to reinvent folk/rock, which comes to a head in the film's thrilling final act. But her biggest feat is in credibly replicating Baez's distinctively rich soprano voice despite no prior singing experience. Asked to fill enormous shoes, it's about as accurate a portrayal as anyone thought possible.

One of the best details of Dylan's infamous '65 Newport set is the presence of Boyd Holbrook's Johnny Cash, who's depicted exactly how we'd hope, cheering on his pal's attack on the music establishment as the act of rebellion it truly is. Pete and the festival organizers may try to stop it, the crowd can boo and heckle him, but when Dylan starts in on "Maggie's Farm," the train's left the station and it hardly matters who's right anymore. As Baez says, he got the freedom he wanted. 

A Complete Unknown is less concerned with checking off dates, facts and milestones than conveying the experiences of those Dylan sucked into his vortex. In an irony he'd appreciate, by film's end he remains as much an enigma as when it started. Drawing the battle lines between what music was and where it's going, we can tell he didn't see any of it as a big deal, shrugging his shoulders with bemusement at all the chaos. He knew everyone would have to move on because this was just the beginning.

Fanboys

Director: Kyle Newman
Starring: Jay Baruchel, Dan Fogler, Sam Huntington, Christopher Marquette, Kristen Bell
Running Time: 90 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

I had my doubts the day would ever come where I'd get to watch and review Fanboys. Within the past couple of years there have been maybe only two or three films I felt I just had to see based on their premise and trailers alone . This was one them. The idea of four Star Wars fanatics traveling cross country to Skywalker Ranch to steal a print of Episode I bursts with unlimited creative potential. But I must confess to some bias on that point. A while back I came up with an idea pretty similar to this and, like all my ideas, never did anything with it. That's of no consequence since I've built up quite a collection of 3 x 5 index cards filled with unused, half-developed brainstorms but this was the first I recognized onscreen in some form or another. So understandably my curiosity was piqued as to how writer/director Kyle Newman would handle the material.

I approached Fanboys in a mindset similar to how I did Southland Tales in that it was a film I had looked forward to for years, but when stories spread about behind-the-scenes creative clashes and a troubled post-production, I was forced into approaching it with what could best be called "cautious optimism." I wondered if this film could also overcome the odds, despite sitting on the shelf for three years during an ugly public feud between the studio and director. Unfortunately, the real losers in that feud turned out to be the fans.

After missing about 4 release dates due to re-shoots and re-edits the film was finally released with a whimper in February but it was too late for anyone to care and was subsequently met with a smattering of negative reviews (including an unusually mean spirited attack on Star Wars fans from Roger Ebert) It's impossible to know for sure how much of Newman's original vision is present in the final cut but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt that it's not nearly enough because the end result is kind of a truncated mess.

The bitter battle over whether to include the now infamous cancer sub-plot has clearly caused the movie to slip away from Newman. This element has since been re-inserted, but sloppily, and other aspects of the film suffer slightly because of it. This should have been better. Much, much better. Those looking to blame Harvey "Darth" Weinstein have a strong case because it looks like he really did do some serious damage here and came very close to ruining the film. The good news though, is that enough survived to earn it a solid, if somewhat tentative, recommendation.

While I smiled and chuckled during many portions of Fanboys there were also times where I didn't and wondered what this movie would have played in its original, un-tampered with form. The true irony is that while it does harness the excitement we all felt awaiting the opening of Episode I, it also permeates with that feeling of disappointment when it finally did. I also underestimated how little I wanted to be reminded of the prequels and the letdown accompanying them.

If you think about it, it's tough to look back on what George Lucas did in the summer of 1999 and laugh. At least I find it tough, and I'm not even what you'd consider a "die-hard" fan. But it is fun to go back to that special moment in time BEFORE it opened when we were about to see "the greatest movie ever made." As much as Fanboys takes unnecessary detours and makes some wrong steps, it at least captures that moment effectively.

It's October, 1998. The release of The Phantom Menace is six months away and counting. Far from just being a movie, for Eric (Sam Huntington), Linus (Chris Marquette), Hutch (Dan Fogler) and Windows (Jay Baruchel), four friends and proud Star Wars fanatics from Ohio, it represents the defining event of their lifetime. But Eric has since moved on, or at least has done a good enough job convincing himself he's grown out of his obsession, miserably working at his sleazy, flamboyant father Big Chuck's (Christopher McDonald) used car dealership.

Things change when Eric learns that Linus is dying of terminal cancer and has only months to live. With his urging the foursome decide to make good on their crazy childhood dream of breaking into George Lucas' Skywalker Ranch and stealing the unreleased film....so they can destroy it. Sorry. Just some wishful thinking. It's actually so Linus can see it before he dies. They're eventually joined by every geek's dream fangirl Zoe (Kristen Bell), who not only loves Star Wars, but hangs out at the local comic book store, which is apparently where I should be frequenting more often.

A road trip commences and it's a little disappointing that it does feel derivative of every other road trip movie, with the added Star Wars element, but luckily that element is a very welcome one. Their misadventures along the way are littered with a lot of cameos. I mean A LOT. Maybe the most I've ever seen in a comedy. Some are funnier than others and at times it feels like the characters are just being dropped from one excursion to the next just so all these names can appear, but they do add to the overall viewing experience in mostly positive ways.

We have Danny Trejo as a pot smoking Indian chief who's the catalyst for a hallucinatory dream sequence that's probably best appreciated under the influence. Seth Rogen in dual roles, one of which is absolutely hilarious. And we're treated to an appearance from film critic Harry Knowles, who I thought must have lost a ton of weight until I realized he was being played by Ethan Suplee. It's shocking that the real Knowles didn't cameo since you'd figure the shameless self-promoter and ultimate fanboy would jump at the chance to appear as himself in something like this.

Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith pop up playing variations (I think) on their Jay & Silent Bob characters while Danny McBride has a very memorable and funny role as a Skywalker Ranch security head. The Star Wars vets prove to be good sports as Carrie Fisher shows up as a physician, Ray "Darth Maul" Park as a security guard and Billy Dee Williams as..."JUDGE REINHOLD." Yes, I know the joke seems like something a fifth grader would come up with and it was much funnier on Arrested Development when the role was ACTUALLY PLAYED by Judge Reinhold, but I'm embarrassed to admit that I still laughed.

The best cameo belongs to William Shatner who for some reason isn't given so much as a walk-on in J.J. Abrams' Star Trek reboot but can land a bit part in a movie celebrating Star Wars. The fanboys vs. "Trekkies" sub-plot works best and produces the most consistent hilarity in a film where consistency is frequently absent. It almost pains me to report the sub-plot that's handled poorest is the cancer storyline, which seems to appear and disappear at the plot's convenience. It's in the movie just the exact wrong amount, showing up as almost an afterthought until the final scenes when it does register. By then it seems almost too late.

As haphazardly as it was re-incorporated though, all the angry fans had a point that it does belong in there. Without it the story doesn't have much of point. Then again, if they were just going to forget about it anyway, why put it back in? The issue has less to do with whether it should be there than HOW because it doesn't always mix well with the gross-out, slapstick humor. Of course that can happen when you re-edit your movie 75,000 times and spend three years in post-production hell.

Sam Huntington (best known for playing Jimmy Olsen in Superman Returns) acclimates nicely as the leading man, even when it's not entirely clear he's the leading man amidst the film's constantly shifting focus. Marquette and Baruchel's characters seem to get more attention and screen time and both deliver solid performances. This is also a victory of sorts for the seemingly talentless, but Tony Award winning (no joke) actor Dan "Balls of Fury" Fogler, who turns in what just might be his least grating work to date. Don't get me wrong he's still annoying as hell but at least he's found a part where he's supposed to be stuck in a permanent state of adolescence.

My future wife Kristen Bell has a role that's miles away from her recent co-starring turn in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, even though shooting on this probably wrapped years before casting on that film began. I complained about Bell's role in that but one thing I couldn't say was that it was underdeveloped or underwritten. This feels like it could have been or that scenes of hers were left on the cutting room floor, but it's a trade-off I'll take because this comes closer to the types of roles I'd like to see her in. I wish more was done with her but when she does appear (primarily in the third act) there were glimpses of her Veronica Mars character in there. That made it especially frustrating for me that she wasn't given more. It's enough I guess, but I'm greedy.

An attempted romance with one of the main characters seemed forced and manufactured, not to mention that it's with the wrong character. The whole thing just rings false. Had this sub-plot been executed well it would have really showcased her skills and added an extra layer of poignancy to the story, if that's even what they were going for. That's part of the problem. I had no idea what they were going for. But yes it's true that Bell does wear the Slave Girl Leia costume. Patience you must have. It's worth the wait. And so sue me I think I might even like her better as a brunette.

With all the behind the scenes drama in making the film it's at least nice to discover the studio didn't cut any corners in procuring music for the soundtrack. You can't dislike any movie that features Rush and forgotten late '90's alt-rock classics. When an all-time favorite of mine blasted at just the right moment in the film's final scene I was grinning from ear to ear. The last line of dialogue perfectly encapsulates in one question what we were all feeling right before the curtain went up on Episode I.

For the record, I don't think The Phantom Menace "sucks." Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull... now that sucked. But if we were to weigh expectations against actual execution I do think The Phantom Menace should rank among the most disappointing films ever made. There's just no reason that or any of the prequels should have existed and if I could somehow stop the release of just one movie it would probably be Episode I. That's the primary appeal of this movie: Cleansing us of that feeling.

Wherever the blame lies, it's terrible to be letdown by something you just know will be spectacular. There's an undercurrent of that running throughout Fanboys. Lucas doesn't appear in the film and strangely that seems right. I, like many, have little desire to see him involved with any Star Wars project anymore. It somehow seems cooler without his presence, but to his credit he not only gave Newman his blessing, but the rights to use Star Wars trademarks in a feature film. You could argue its the only intelligent decision Lucas has made with the brand in the past two decades.

I also understand why no mention of the film's tumultuous journey to the screen was made on the DVD because if I were Newman I wouldn't want to talk bout it either. A fun commentary track, some deleted scenes and a couple of featurettes are fine and that's exactly what we get. The guy's been through a war and came out on the losing end, despite the outpouring of fan support. While they meant well, I wonder if their attempts to "save the film" did more harm than good, resulting in excessive tinkering that distorted the final product. It's awful that what obviously started as a filmmaker's labor of love turned into such a messy public disaster. If nothing else, Newman deserves some really stiff drinks and a long, well-deserved break.

It's funny how I was mostly either unsure or disappointed while watching the picture but when it ended I had mostly fond memories of the experience. I'll probably even see it again hoping against hope that maybe its problems will be ironed out and the pieces will fit together a little better. I'm convinced I wouldn't have been able to bash this if I tried. I can't think of a recent movie I wanted to love more. There must be an original theatrical cut of Fanboys locked away in Harvey Weinstein's office that didn't make it to theaters or DVD. That's the one I want to see. If anyone ever decides to steal it, they can count me in.

Balls of Fury

Director: Robert Ben Garant
Starring: Dan Fogler, Christopher Walken, George Lopez, Maggie Q, James Hong, Robert Patrick, Aisha Tyler
Running Time: 90 min.
Rating: PG-13

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

I've always had this theory that even the worst films have something in them worth recommending. Maybe it's just false optimism but I grant the filmmakers the courtesy they acted with the best intentions and for the most part avoid taking cheap shots. As bad as some films I've seen have been this year and how little value they've contained, I can recall very few that I'd consider totally worthless. That theory is really put to the test with the painfully unfunny and terminally boring Balls of Fury. I pay exactly $1.08 for every movie I rent but this is the only instance I actually felt ripped off and wanted a refund. Perhaps it was a warning sign that the trailer for this movie preceded nearly every theatrical and DVD release I saw this past summer and I could recite lines from the film months before I even watched it.

This may be the first movie where the trailer ACTUALLY IS the movie and this trailer, which barely elicited a few giggles initially, became increasingly less funny with each viewing. When the time arrived to actually see the movie a strange sensation came over me that I had seen it all before. Maybe that's because I have. Only now it felt like it was 170 hours long. It takes a premise with little to no comic potential and somehow finds a way to waste even that and make it seem unfunnier than it already is. Even all the actors in the film look bored and have guilty looks on their faces like they knew how bad this was but just couldn't help themselves. It's time to call it a year because we may have found the worst film of 2007.

Tony Award Winning Actor (!) Dan Fogler is former table tennis phenom Randy Dakota who at the age of 12 suffered an embarrassing defeat in the 1988 Olympic Games in Seoul, Korea. This loss causes the murder of his father (Robert Patrick), who bet on him to win the gold and was unable to pay up. 19 years pass and Randy is relegated to working the Vegas casino circuit with a silly table tennis routine. That is until he's paid an unexpected visit from an FBI agent Rodriguez (George Lopez) who wants him to undercover to take down the man responsible for his father's death, the devious crime lord Feng (Christopher Walken).

To do so he must go back into training in order to receive an invitation to compete in Feng's underground ping-pong tournament. Master Wong (James Hong), an old, wise blind man and his hot niece Maggie (Maggie Q) take him under his wing and train him to once again compete and win at table tennis against the best in the world. However, if you've seen the trailer I'm probably not telling you anything you didn't already know.

I can't recall laughing once during this entire film. There isn't a single joke you don't see coming from miles away, any character that's the slightest bit amusing or interesting, or a single surprise in the clumsily written screenplay. It's amazing how many jokes the film crams into the longest 90 minutes committed to celluloid this year and how none of them work at all. We have a blind man who who's always falling or tripping I into things, jokes about male prostitution, and a parade of misfit table tennis competitors which include an angry Russian, conjoined twins and a bratty little Chinese girl.

We're supposed to laugh at Randy because he's a fat guy with crazy hair playing table tennis. It was almost as if writers Robert Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon thought that just the mere thought of anyone (much less someone like Randy) playing ping pong is so hysterical it would cause audiences to erupt in laughter. Looking over their list of the five sports not yet treated to a feature film slaughtering they must have jumped through the roof when they realized table tennis was still available. Add in a Chinese underground ping-pong crime ring to spoof martial arts films and all the bases are covered. Pathetically, the first 10 minutes of the film are nearly identical than the similarly themed and titled but infinitely superior Will Ferrell skating comedy Blades of Glory from earlier this year.

After watching the performance of Dan Fogler in his starring debut I've gained a new appreciation for Jack Black as an actor. Fogler does his best impersonation of him here but lacks any of the charisma, comic timing or screen presence. I am aware that stage and film acting are radically different but I still don't know what to say about the fact that he was given Broadway's highest honor in the form of a Tony award. Hopefully, it'll be confiscated after this. That he's co-starring in one of the comedies I'm most anticipating in 2008 (Fanboys) is now making me second guess just how much I'm actually looking forward to it.

They'll be those tempted to see this film because of the presence of the great Christopher Walken, maybe our strangest and most interesting supporting actor. Resist that temptation. Going in I was sure that at least just the scenes involving him would hysterical but even those are obvious and fall flat, making this the only Walken role I can ever recall not enjoying. Maggie Q appeared in one of the best films of the year this summer with Live Free or Die Hard and tore up the screen with her performance. She can now claim she's also appeared in one of the worst. She's completely wasted here.

When Aisha Tyler showed up I had to ask myself a question: WHAT'S SHE DOING IN THIS? Anyone who's seen interviews with her knows just how smart she is and this appearance clearly has no bearing on that since everyone has to pay the bills but this is too much. When she sat in as a guest critic on Ebert and Roeper she offered great insight into why certain films worked or didn't. This is exactly the kind of movie she would have bashed on the show. I know it is. The only actor who avoids embarrassment is George Lopez who is mildly amusing at least until the big scene where he gets to scream the most overused movie catchphrase in pop culture history. He also gets to kick Heroes' Masi Oka in the face, something the show's fans are probably jealous of considering that series' sophomore season.

Toward the end of this movie I heard a loud, crashing sound. It was the DVD remote dropping to the floor after slipping out of my hand. I had fallen asleep for about 10 minutes and it wasn't just a little nap either. If not for that I'm convinced I would have been out cold for the duration of the film and probably beyond. This despite the presence of Maggie Q, Aisha Tyler and a large coffee. It's a good thing the remote wasn't damaged or I'd have to send a letter to the offices of director Robert Ben Garant demanding he replace it.

As for those 10 minutes I slept through let's just say that it would have to be an alternate ending to Citizen Kane to convince me that I missed anything worthwhile. Apparently this disc also had some special features as if the traumatic experience of watching the film itself wasn't enough. Needless to say, I didn't bother with any of them.

Balls of Fury is a complete waste of time and makes the year's other misguided comedy efforts like I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry and License To Wed look like worthy candidates for preservation from the American Film Institute. So if anyone really needs their Christopher Walken fix that badly I'd suggest instead of suffering and snoozing through this mess like I did you pop in some DVD's of The Best of Saturday Night Live. At least there you're guaranteed something funny.