Unfrosted

Director: Jerry Seinfeld
Starring: Jerry Seinfeld, Melissa McCarthy, Jim Gaffigan, Max Greenfield, Hugh Grant, Amy Schumer, Peter Dinklage, Christian Slater, Bill Burr, Dan Levy, James Marsden, Jack McBrayer, Thomas Lennon, Bobby Moynihan, Adrian Martinez, Sarah Cooper, Mikey Day, Kyle Mooney, Drew Tarver, Tony Hale, Felix Solis, Maria Bakalova, Dean Norris, Kyle Dunnigan, Sebastian Maniscalco, Cedric the Entertainer, Fred Armisen, Jon Hamm, John Slattery, Andy Daly
Running Time: 93 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

While it's almost impossible to believe it took Jerry Seinfeld until now to write, star in and direct his own feature film, he gives us Unfrosted, a comedy about the creation of Pop-Tarts. And in doing it he's unfortunately become sort of the critics' punching bag, as if attempting to tackle a biopic of America's most famous pastry treat were a crime.

Hardly anyone's typical dream project on paper, you can still see how the comedian famous for a "show about nothing" would be drawn to material this unapologetically silly. But even in falling considerably short of his TV benchmark, there's a refreshing simplicity to the premise that grows more humorous and absurd with each passing development.

In spinning nonfictional details into his own goofy version of events, Seinfeld even bookends the movie with a scene that shows him doing exactly that. Though the biggest surprise is how he's practically an afterthought amidst a packed cast of big name comedy stars. Anchored by vibrant, colorfully retro production design and some standout supporting turns, he actually does a lot right in his first outing behind the camera, or at least more than he's gotten credit for. 

After encountering  a young runaway ordering Pop-Tarts at a diner, Kellogg's head of development, Bob Cardona (Seinfeld) tells him the true story of how America's favorite breakfast snack came to be. It's 1963 when CEO Edsel Kellogg (Jim Gaffigan) and his corporate rival and ex-lover Marjorie Post (Amy Schumer) fight for brand supremacy in Battle Creek, Michigan, with Kellogg's again sweeping all competition at the annual Bowl and Spoon Awards. With Edsel basking in victory, Bob accidentally discovers that Marjorie's team is working on a new product initially created by his former colleague Donna "Stan" Stankowski (Melissa McCarthy).

As the conniving Marjorie makes plans to develop this treat and launch it into stores, Bob and Edsel bring Stan back to Kellogg's to help develop their own version, recruiting eccentric business innovators Jack LaLanne (James Marsden), Steve Schwinn (Jack McBrayer), Harold von Braunhut (Thomas Lennon), Chef Boy Ardee (Bobby Moynihan) and Tom Carvel (Adrian Martinez) to serve as "taste pilots." With both companies' tactics getting uglier and the feud soon carrying political ramifications, this big showdown will ultimately be decided by hungry customers when both products hit supermarket shelves.

Most of the pleasure comes in these speculative sub-plots involving real life public figures, some of whom probably had only tangential involvement in the actual founding of Pop-Tarts. But working with morsels of truth and a few obscure facts, co-writer Seinfeld is smart enough to know a script about the discovery of this famous treat will have to take extensive liberties in order to entertain. 

Under normal circumstances, the mere suggestion this material is even loosely based on historical events would induce groans, but Seinfeld's pretty upfront with what he's trying to do. It's an ongoing a game of "spot the star" until the wacky origin story kicks in and these cameos start taking shape, with many well known comic actors proving their worth with the screen time they're given. 

Whether it's Max Greenfield's hapless, abused Post assistant, Christian Slater's diabolical milkman, Bill Burr as JFK, or Kyle Dunnigan playing both Walter Kronkite and Johnny Carson, most of the appearances are cleverly incorporated into the narrative. And this doesn't even cover half of them, including a really memorable scene involving Jon Hamm and John Slattery as two very familiar fictional ad execs of the era. 

All this rests on Seinfeld's acting performance about as much as his sitcom did, which is to say not at all. Hardly known as a master thespian, he's rarely needed to be since the writing and supporting players always carried much of the load throughout that series. Now he's again playing the straight man who mugs for the camera and it works just fine, especially with McCarthy's timing and droll line deliveries selling even the corniest of jokes alongside an equally effective Gaffigan.

Amy Schumer also understands the assignment as Marjorie Post, losing herself in the film's hammiest, most over-the-top character. And you can't really come down too hard on any film featuring Hugh Grant as a snobby, disgruntled Shakespearean actor playing Tony the Tiger and leading a January 6th-like mascot mob through Kellogg's headquarters. Or a funeral where Snap, Crackle and Pop honor the deceased by pouring cereal and milk onto their casket. 

Much like recent product biopics Air, Tetris, The Beanie Bubble and Flamin' Hot, this does seem on the joke, taking twice as much creative license when reimagining material originally based on some semblance of reality. In this sense, the decidingly uncontroversial Seinfeld acquits himself well in a tough spot, delivering the type of fun, throwback comedy that's gone missing of late.  

Bachelorette

Director: Leslye Headland
Starring: Kirsten Dunst, Isla Fisher, Lizzy Caplan, James Marsden, Kyle Bornheimer, Rebel Wilson, Adam Scott, Ann Dowd
Running Time: 87 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

That the dark comedy Bachelorette is a an uneven mess is both its greatest attribute and biggest flaw. If it wasn't this sloppy I'm not sure it would have been as compelling, but it definitely would have been a better film. So, call it a trade-off. Trailers and commercials sold it as another Bridesmaids but that this couldn't possibly have less in common with it is actually good news. And it doesn't wear its heart on its sleeve and most definitely doesn't aim to please. The characters are mean, cruel, selfish, and at times, disgusting, but at least they feel real as writer/director Leslye Headland sacrifices little to give audiences a brutally honest, unflinching portrayal of women behaving very badly. The problem is it's only occasionally funny, which is an issue for a comedy featuring somewhat detestable characters. I say "somewhat" because there is a double standard at play. If this were about men they'd just call it The Hangover but when women characters do stuff like this onscreen they're usually labeled "bitches." Unfortunately, the shoe occasionally fits here. Of the three leads, one's a promiscuous drug addict continuously reliving high school. The other is a vacuous airhead with no clue how to relate to other people. Only the third and thankfully most important character seems like a multi-dimensional human being whose occasional cruelty gives way to surprising amount of competence and empathy. After an awful start the movie finds its groove in the second half with one actress doing all the work to drag everything over the finish line. But by then the damage is already done.

In a clever, fast-paced opening, bad girl Regan (Kirsten Dunst) is informed over lunch by former high school classmate Becky (Rebel Wilson) that she's getting married. Regan quickly alerts Gina (Lizzy Caplan) and Katie (Isla Fisher) that they'll all be attending the wedding of the girl they called "Pigface" in high school. The relationship between all the girls and Becky is never entirely clear (friends? enemies? frenemies?) but the plot hits the ground running immediately without looking back. They're all reunited  for the bachelorette party where a number of disasters ensue throughout the night involving drugs, alcohol, sex, jealousy, strip clubs and a ruined wedding dress. The presence of Gina's ex-boyfriend Clyde (Adam Scott) complicates matters, as does Joe (Kyle Bornheimer), a former classmate with a longtime crush on Katie, and the best man Trevor (James Marsden), who his sights set on Regan. It'll be up to her, the maid of honor, to hold it all together so Becky can make it to the alter in the midst of old grudges and past relationships bubbling to the surface.

A lot is juggled in the span of just under an hour and a half. As expected, some works and some doesn't, but it's never laugh-out-loud funny. It's more of a dark comedy revolving around insecurity, regret and failure amongst women in their early thirties set against the backdrop of one disastrously thrilling evening. Whereas the overlong Bridesmaids had the problem of shoehorning serious and overly sentimental elements into what's supposed to be a gross-out comedy, this contains plotlines that sometimes feel deadly serious and tries to milk them for laughs. Amazingly, this approach is occasionally more successful than you'd think thanks to a biting script and capable performers. At least until the third act, it rarely shies away from painting these characters as selfish and insensitive at best. Save for the bride-to-be they have very few redeeming qualities, which is actually kind of courageous to do for a female-driven comedy that probably would have been more successful as a drama.

All the storylines and half-developed sub-plots yield mixed results, without us ever really being invested in  them. The sub-plot involving Dunst and Marsden's characters doesn't really go anywhere, Fisher's irritating, constantly drunk Katie character torpedoes a mini-romance involving the nerdy Joe, and a heavy backstory with Caplan and Scott can't quite find the right tone to take hold like it should. But it does all feel realistic to a fault. I'll give it that. And we're again given the rare opportunity to see Adam Scott play kind of a jerk. He's surprisingly good at it, even if Caplan and Scott would probably top anyone's list of actors they'd least like to see tackle unlikable characters. But even in their unlikability, the former Party Down co-stars still come off fairly likable, which is no small feat considering the material they're handed. Rebel Wilson is unusually restrained as the optimistic moral center and it's a nice relief to discover that, aside from the whole "Pigface" thing, her character's never turned into a joke and is sincere. But the movie completely belongs to Kirsten Dunst, who's simply amazing. She totally takes over in the final act, juggling so many tones at once and just tearing through the material to the point that she almost redeems the film. Somehow bringing order to the chaos, she digs to provide some answers and explanations for Regan's terrible behavior that couldn't have been in the script. The many fans of Dunst and Caplan will probably be thrilled with what each does here, while Fisher, saddled with a thankless boozer part, can't help but seem like the third wheel.     

I'd still probably sooner watch Bachelorette again than the overpraised, but more cleanly executed Bridesmaids since this at least took risks and tried something different. Plus, it's only 87 minutes. If only every comedy were between 80 and 110 minutes. Especially in this case. Even just a few minutes more with these characters would have been too much. It's an easy, breezy watch that, despite a myriad of issues, hardly qualifies as a slog or complete waste of time. And any comedy  featuring Adam Scott badly singing The Proclaimers' "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" could never be considered a total disaster. That Will Ferrell produced this isn't surprising, as it does kind of feel like a Funny or Die sketch that's longer, meaner and just not quite as funny. But it is interesting and thankfully seems made without any concern as to whether audiences will enjoy it, take away any message or like the characters. You have to respect that. If a comedy's going to fail, we should be so lucky that it fails with as much ambition as this one.

      

Straw Dogs (2011)

 

Director: Rod Lurie
Starring: James Marsden, Kate Bosworth, Alexander Skarsgard, James Woods, Dominic Purcell, Laz Alonso, Willa Holland,Walton Goggins, Anson Mount
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

I cringe whenever I'm about to see a remake of a classic film I'm very familiar with or have great affection for. It's almost impossible to watch without comparing it, sometimes scene-by-scene, to the original. Such a comparison almost always ends unfavorably for the remake. Fortunately or unfortunately, in the case of Rod Lurie's re-imagining of Sam Peckinpah's controversial 1971 ultraviolent classic Straw Dogs, I'm extremely familiar with the original, but not altogether opposed to the idea of remaking it. Following its release late last year, one of the major complaints from critics and audiences alike was that this was merely a modernization, following exactly the same plot lines and exploring the same themes as its predecessor. Which begs the question: If the original's a classic and Lurie hardly changed a thing, how could it be a failure? And therein lies the inherent contradiction with remakes. As many as there are each year, it seems we still haven't found a way to come to terms with their purpose. This version does make some little changes, in addition to a major thematic adjustment most missed. Whereas the original clearly argues in favor of an animal instinct residing inside all men, this take is more interested in exploring society's definition of manhood. Who's to blame for the events that eventually unfold is also more ambiguous, while the one famously ambiguous scene from the original is made clear as day. Lurie's presentation isn't as subtle, but it's tension-filled, and definitely not the horror "torture porn" it was strangely advertised as.

When screenwriter David Sumner (James Marsden) and his TV actress wife Amy (Kate Bosworth) return to her hometown of Blackwater, Mississippi to rebuild her recently deceased father's house. Their arrival brings Amy's ex-boyfriend Charlie (Alexander Skarsgard) and his three friends (Rhys Coiro, Billy Lush, Drew Powell) out of the woodwork and in an attempt to extend an olive branch, David hires them to fix the roof of the barn. With his manner of speak and dress, the well-to-do David immediately sticks out like a sore thumb in town, unable to fit in and at times displaying a condescending attitude toward Blackwater's customs. Perhaps out of jealousy that he's Amy husband or maybe just merely the fact he doesn't like him, Charlie and his gang begin subtly taunting and harassing both of them. As it escalates, David's insistence at avoiding any type of confrontation drives a rift in their relationship with Amy instigating Charlie and his gang to prove a point, putting both their lives in danger and forcing him to step up, or maybe down, to their level.

As much as the commercials have tried to convince you otherwise, this isn't your routine black and white, good vs. evil thriller. And like the original, it isn't a typical horror film despite many scenes providing more than a fair share of psychological terror. There's definitely a slow burn toward the climax, for which Lurie should be commended as I'm sure the pressure was on from the studio to reboot this as some kind of relentless gore fest. Changing the location from England to the deep South (replacing the British working class with Gulf Coast rednecks) was an inspired decision that ends up benefiting the mood and atmosphere, while also bringing the culture clash uncomfortably closer to home for American audiences. The couple's Hollywood occupations don't earn points for subversion or subtly, but it does seem to create an even greater rift between David and and the townspeople he seems to look down on. Or does he? What can easily be construed as condescension could almost equally be interpreted as ignorance (such as in a key scene when he walks out during church service) or just simply not fitting in and overcompensating to cover for it.

The power of the story (adapted from Gordon Williams novel, The Siege of Trencher's Farm) has always been it's realism and ability to put the viewer in the middle of a moral circumstance that could easily occur. At worst, David's a wuss willing to do just about anything to avoid a conflict, even when the situation absolutely necessitates it. Arguably his hesitance makes the ordeal worse, letting the problem fester until finally exploding. At best, he's a normal and responsible guy who could easily be defended for showing patience and trying to work issues out with something other than his fists. According to Amy, whatever he's doing isn't enough and when David's response to her is to "wear a bra" when the gang's leering at her, the gloves come off as she intentionally baits them with her body. The infamous rape scene is presented less ambiguously and as an overt act of violence, mostly doing away with the notion that Amy could have "enjoyed" it. But given her actions up to that point and the animalistic nature of the story, discerning viewers couldn't be blamed for still at least considering the possibility.

Physically, James Marsden is miscast, seeming on the surface too much of a pretty boy to fill Dustin Hoffman's nerdy mathmatician shoes from the original. Marsden solves that problem by wisely not attempting to and offering up a completely different take on the character. He need not necessarily be believable as a full-blown geek, but instead a  passive-aggressive people pleaser who living in his own bubble. Marsden does a great job fleshing that out, while at the same time making you feel empathy for the no-win situation David finds himself in, which isn't all his doing. Bosworth's task isn't as daunting in terms of the shoes she must fill, but she's as perfect a fit as for this as she wasn't for Lois Lane, giving one of her best performances as a woman taking power of her sexuality while at the same time pressured into subverting it. And as for the more emotionally disturbing scenes, she's more than up for it. With a southern drawl and seductive smirk, True Blood's Alexander Skarsgard really steals the show as Charlie, smoothly underplaying everything to the point where it's almost difficult not to like the guy until all hell breaks loose. Even then, he never resorts to playing him as a full blown psychopath, keeping it cool all the way through. It's to his credit that lines between good and evil seem so blurred. That I have problems even remembering the actor who originated the role proves Skarsgard must have done something right.

A major sub-plot involving the town's hotheaded former football coach Tom Heddon (James Woods) and his teen daughter Janice's (Willa Holland) infatuation with mentally handicapped man Jeremy (Dominic Purcell)  is over-the-top to say the least. It's definitely wasn't this insane in the original, with Purcell oddly resembling Steve Carell on steroids and a terrifying Woods devouring each scene as if it were his last day acting day on Earth. Had nothing else in this movie worked (which it thankfully does), this would still be worth seeing for Wood's performance, if only just to say you saw it and survived. Ironically enough, it most resembles his oscar-nominated turn as white supremacist Byron De La Beckwith in 1996's Ghosts of Mississippi, at least in terms of outright hostility.  His daughter's clearly acting out to stick it to him, but the tragic consequences of that are unintended. This and the main story seemed to merge better in the original despite Lurie deviating very little from the source.

The eventual climax is thrilling, if a little too slickly filmed. It's only here where it becomes apparent we're watching a modern re-interpretation. The rest of it exists in some kind of bizarre 70's time warp, which isn't such a bad thing. The other little changes are justifiable as well, even if the jury's still out as to whether modernizing a film improves upon on it by simply making the material more timely. It all still feels a little routine, if powerful. But that the eventual violence still feels shocking and unsettling in this era proves that it was the context and ideas, not the violence itself, that made the original so unnerving. It's recreated here to chilling effect, with the original and remake both somehow coming out of this looking better as a result.

The Box

Director: Richard Kelly
Starring: Cameron Diaz, James Marsden, Frank Langella, Sam Oz Stone, Holmes Osborne
Running Time: 113 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

"Your house is a box which you live in. The car you drove to work is a box, on wheels. When you return home from work you sit in front of a box with moving images. You watch until the mind and soul rots and the box that is your body deteriorates, when finally you are placed into the ultimate box...to rest under the soil and earth."

Was there ever any doubt critics and audiences would hate The Box? Seriously, any doubt at all? Burdened by belonging to a genre that doesn't get any respect, made by a director few want to see work again, and starring a polarizing A-list actress, minds were already made up. This never stood a chance. And if that wasn't enough, how many times have we heard the phrase, "It's like an extended episode of The Twilight Zone" as a supposed insult aimed at high-concept sci-fi or mystery/suspense thrillers? There's no doubt critics' mouths were watering at just the thought of bashing a movie THAT ACTUALLY IS based on an episode of The Twilight Zone.

The nerve of some filmmakers today, using one of the best written shows in television history as a template for their movie. But it turns out writer/director Richard Kelly's third feature can in no way be described as merely an extended version of anything.  There are movies being made right now that are genuine garbage, and worse, seem to lack ideas and passion. This film isn't for everyone but it's not fair to say it isn't for anyone or the person who made it doesn't deserve to make movies anymore because it confused you. It confused me too. It also frustrated me. But not just for the sake of doing it. It takes an incredibly creative person to craft a film like this, then actually have the guts to follow through and make it. I'd never imply it's over anyone's head or they "didn't get it," but I would advise anyone who isn't a hardcore fan of sci-fi to stay as far away as possible.

For most, this just won't be their thing, which is fine. And even those who were big fans of either of Richard Kelly's previous masterworks, the cult classic Donnie Darko and/or the unjustly maligned Southland Tales, can still easily find themselves hating this. With a relatively straightforward premise, the presence of A-List talent and one huge box office flop behind him you'd be forgiven for thinking Kelly was ready to concede defeat and start playing by the studios' rules for a change. But really, we should have known better.

Norma (Cameron Diaz) and Arthur (James Marsden) Lewis are a married couple living above their means but barely making ends meet in Langley, Virginia circa 1976. Arthur works as an engineer at NASA, where he's just been rejected from the astronaut program after failing the psychological exam, while Norma is a high school English teacher whose job might now be in jeopardy due to cuts in the tenure program. A potential cure to their financial ills come in the form of a small wooden box with a red button delivered by a facially disfigured stranger named Arlington Steward (a creepy Frank Langella). His offer is simple: Press the button and they'll be handed a payment of one million dollars... tax free. The catch is that someone somewhere in the world whom THEY DON'T KNOW will die. They have 24 hours to make a decision or it's off the table. Should they choose not to press the button, Steward will just move on and make the offer to someone else THEY DON'T KNOW. I'm not spoiling anything by telling you that Norma presses the button. It's what happens after that where things get blurry.

The film is loosely based on acclaimed science fiction writer Richard Matheson's 1970 short story, "Button, Button," and was later adapted into a 1986 episode of the The Twilight Zone, which the movie's first 30 minutes don't stray very far from. Until the button is pressed we're being set up for a conventional, high concept thriller, but after that the rug is completely pulled out from under us. Interested in doing much more than simply expanding the source material, Kelly presents an existential parable on the human race featuring:

-The Mars Viking Lander program
-Amputated toes
-Nosebleeds
-Space and time teleportation
-Water portals
-Government conspiracies
-Murder
-Holmes Osborne
-Usher Syndrome
-Handy reference manuals (like in Darko)
-Cackling demonic waiters

And that doesn't even begin to cover all the craziness. In what has unsurprisingly caused frustration for audiences, this concept was put in the hands of a director actually interested in exploring the philosophical implications of Steward's offer...on the largest scale possible. Those who have seen the film are probably scratching their heads wondering how I could say anything is explored at all. But it is.

In his recent assessment of the film, Roger Ebert made an interesting point about the "test" Steward seems to be conducting, comparing it to 1961's famous Milgram Experiment in which subjects administered lethal shocks to strangers in another room just simply because they were told to. I remember seeing that gripping video years ago, wondering in the back of my mind the result if that idea was ever fully fleshed out in feature film form. Now it has, but with more far-reaching scope than could have possibly been anticipated. A moral dilemma presented to husband and wife morphs into the ultimate test for humanity's salvation, where our ultimate destroyer is us. In a film packed with overt religious and literary symbolism, an early classroom scene with Norma teaching her class Sartre's 1944 existentialist play "No Exit" hints at this idea and can be seen, at least in purpose, as mirroring Drew Barrymore's lecture on "The Destructors" that took place at the start of Donnie Darko.

With NASA and the Mars landing playing such a huge role in the story you're almost sure the film is going in an extraterrestrial direction but Kelly's too smart for that. Or at least he's too smart to come right out and tell us. And while the scattered clues don't necessarily confirm or deny that suspicion, enough is left open-ended to drive audiences crazy and generate wild theories. We find out a lot about Arlington Steward in terms of his past and motives for the "experiment", but again, much of that is implied and similarly open for interpretation. Key information is given, but not too much, requiring the viewer to fill in the gaps however they choose. Five viewings probably aren't enough, but many will have problems just making it through one.

The Box is an achievement in mood and atmosphere, deliberately paced but never boring. Set in the 1970's (the ugly wallpaper gives it away) it could easily pass itself off as being made in the time it's set, mimicking the look and feel of psychological horror thrillers of that era. Arcade Fire's menacing musical score sounds like a cross between Bernard Hermann's for Psycho and Jonny Greenwood's for There Will Be Blood, only enhancing the terror level, while the party scenes play like something straight out of Kubrick's The Shining. If Southland Tales was Kelly's Dr. Strangelove then this is his 2001: A Space Odyssey. The ideas in the latter heavily influence this, but since neither film is the most accessible, many won't lose sleep pondering the similarities.

For whatever reason Cameron Diaz tends to really rise to the occasion when given insane, trippy material (think Being John Malkovich and Vanilla Sky) to work with and this is the best example yet of that. James Marsden, who's been showing real promise in some thankless supporting roles for the past few years, nails his first leading dramatic one and proves here he's got all the necessary acting chops to stick around for a while. Even more importantly, both share great chemistry and are completely believable as a married couple in crisis.

Frank Langella just might have the most difficult part because he has to rise above what could have just been a hokey gimmick of "death" traveling door-to-door that in the wrong hands could have easily come off as a Final Destination rip-off. But the brilliance of his work is how he subtly conveys that he's carrying out a higher purpose and doesn't necessarily want to do this, but has to. He plays him as twisted and determined, not evil, and you can tell he kind of likes the Lewis'. More than anyone, he doesn't want to see them hit that button but this entire situation is bigger than all of them. He delivers that depressing quote above (so depressing that someone in the film even remarks just how depressing it is), but does it in such a way that you believe no one is more saddened by its possibilities than him.

Since Kelly grew up in Virginia during the 1970's and his dad worked for NASA it's been called the director's most personal project yet. But to categorize it as that requires a deeper understanding of what the word "PERSONAL" probably means to a filmmaker as unique as Richard Kelly-- Uncompromisingly making this movie the way he wants, regardless of the fallout. Recently, the market research firm CinemaScore gave The Box an "F," with its President declaring it a "real stinker," specifically singling out the ending as a major bone of contention (which I figured would have been the only thing audiences liked). Since CinemaScore polls "average moviegoers" it's generally thought of as one of the more accurate measures of a film's quality. Of course, these are the same "average moviegoers" who pushed Transformers: ROTF past 90 billion dollars this summer and just made The Twilight Saga: New Moon one of the highest grossing films of all-time, so you can take that statistic for what it's worth. Its results are especially irrelevant when it comes to a film like this, which was never made to court public acceptance anyway. But by refusing to offer up easy answers and provoking real thought, The Box becomes every bit as chilling as the classic science fiction that inspired it.