The Founder

Director: John Lee Hancock
Starring: Michael Keaton, Nick Offerman, John Carroll Lynch, Linda Cardellini, Patrick Wilson, B.J. Novak, Laura Dern
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

When we first meet Ray Kroc, a failed traveling salesman in his early fifties from Illinois, he's peddling industrial milkshake mixers to uninterested restaurant owners. That is until he meets the McDonald brothers, the only two guys crazy enough to buy from him. What happens when Ray goes out to their San Bernadino, California diner in 1954 is not only one of the most memorable sequences in John Lee Hancock's The Founder and the story's catalyst, but a love letter to the power of creativity and amazement. If it was hard to grasp just how revolutionary the concept of McDonald's was at the time, Ray's reaction to getting his burger in 30 seconds in disposable wrapping as families enjoy their meals next to him, tells you all there is to know. You can see and feel exactly why he's so bowled over by it, and watching the scene, you'd be forgiven for thinking it's the greatest idea that ever was. At the time, and even today, there's a lot of truth in that. But an idea is just that until it becomes something more. Something bigger. Ray Kroc liked to think big and after years of hawking bad products, he knew a sure bet when he saw it. What he lacked in creativity he made up for ten times over in persistence and business savvy. A visionary who saw the limitless potential in someone else's concept, he ran with it in a way they couldn't, morality and consequences be damned.

At its core, The Founder really boils down to one question: At what point does an idea become so great that it needs to be shared with the world? And once it is, what's the cost? The answer to that casts a shadow over the film that completely reframes Ray's aforementioned visit to McDonald's Burgers in San Bernardino and his contagious enthusiasm. He was right to do whatever it took to push this through just as the McDonald brothers were in fighting to preserve the integrity of their creation every step of the way. And just as he was wrong to screw them out of what was rightfully theirs, an equally strong case can be made for their inflexibility and resistance to change. And yet the man we see at the end, as ethically compromised as he is, still strangely remains very much the same one we met at the beginning. That's the true genius in Michael Keaton's complicated, unfairly overlooked performance, which already seems destined to go down as one of the most underappreciated of his career.

The arrival of Ray Kroc (Keaton) at McDonald's Burgers represents for Dick (Nick Offerman) and Mac (John Carroll Lynch) and Mac McDonald to correct an opportunity they let slip through their fingers once before. An unsuccessful previous attempt to franchise out their revolutionary fast food burger joint was marred by the challenge of maintaining the same high level of customer service and food quality throughout the chain. Enter Kroc. The brothers are approached, and actually somewhat stalked, by the Prince Castle salesman who's so impressed with their unique business model emphasizing a speedy food delivery service that keeps costs down, he wants to hear their story. And it's a pretty amazing one, as they tell him how they started out in the movie industry before eventually landing in the food service business, which they thought was in serious need of some tweaking. Chalk diagrams on a tennis court provided the blueprints for what would become McDonald's kitchen, with each station serving a specific function in getting quality food to the customer as quickly as possible. No more waiting at drive-ins.

While Dick's heavily skeptical of Ray's interest from the onset, Mac's convinced they finally found the guy that understands their product and can help them fulfill their dreams of expansion. After appealing to their sense of patriotism, envisioning the golden arches side by side with American flags and church steeples across the nation, they reluctantly agree to a deal.  And while it initially does seem to be the perfect match for all involved and Ray makes some smart decisions, the brothers' traditional approach soon clashes with his towering ambition. Mortgaging his home while sacrificing his marriage to wife Ethel (Laura Dern), he continues expansion at a rapid rate, soon realizing this will never work unless he hires the right people and gets out from under the thumb of the brothers, who have him locked in a contract mandating them final say on any new idea he has. In order to succeed Ray will have to get creative, even if the morally questionable moves he makes in the name of business could forever taint his claim as the true "founder" of McDonald's.  

If Ray sees dollar signs the first time he lays eyes on the brothers' establishment, there's also a certain admiration and respect for what they created, as well as a desire to prove to everyone he isn't the failure they believe him to be by shepherding it to greater success. While he likes the brothers, he also knows they're gullible and not businessmen, which could explain why they were presumably taken for a ride in their last attempt to franchise. They need him just as much as he needs them if there's any desire in the brothers to build on their creation. And Ray isn't kidding himself on his own prospects either. He's at an age where this is clearly his last shot and he's already looked at as a joke by he and his wife's country club contemporaries, who can't wait to get in on the action when they realize his latest dream could actually bare financial fruit.

Ray's complete rejection of these rich, retired country clubbers' investment in this franchising when he recognizes their laziness and lack of commitment is probably his finest hour. Seeing him outside the restaurant on his hand and knees cleaning up the trash, more determined than ever to hire those who work and care about quality is the strongest case to be made for him as a decent human being. That, and his willingness to hire anyone from any walk of life (sometimes right off the street) he feels will do a good job is another feather in his cap. And yet Ray is also one of the worst candidates to accumulate such success and wealth at this rapid a rate because he's been beaten down so long. With a chip on his shoulder and something to prove, he's like a kid in a candy store when given just a taste of it. Not only does he roll over the McDonald brothers, he basically discards Ethel at the first sight of Joan (Linda Cardellini), the captivating wife of a franchisee (Patrick Wilson).

Despite knowing the terms when he signed, you could see how the brothers' dismissal of every one of Ray's ideas as crass commercialism or off-brand send him over the deep end. Ray definitely doesn't play fair and surely doesn't care, but while even his more Machiavellian methods could be defended as necessary to getting McDonald's where it needs to go, it doesn't explain the lack of credit or compensation for them once it gets there. He'd explain it away by saying it was business but you can't help but think back to Dick's statement that they "let a wolf in the hen house." Toward the third act of the picture it becomes clear that they may have actually franchised out their company and lives to someone whose business ethics are more closely aligned with Daniel Plainview's from There Will Be a Blood.

The casting of Keaton as Kroc is nothing short of a masterstroke. He's so inherently likable as a scrappy underdog that it could seem incomprehensible he'd take the actions he does later if not for the fact that this is an actor equally skilled at going to those darker, unlikable places. John Lee Hancock (director of The Blind Side and writer of 1993's A Perfect World) hasn't necessarily made a dark film here, but against the bright, nostalgic hue of 1950's America gorgeously photographed by cinematographer John Schwartzman and memorably scored by Carter Burwell, is this undercurrent of greed and avarice. Most of that is provided by Keaton, who has to simultaneously juggle multiple balls in the air playing someone who could have easily been categorized as one-note meglomaniacal businessman in the hands of a lesser performer. We don't sense your typical "transformation," because what happens is exactly what Ray wanted to have happen the second he saw McDonald's Burgers.

That gleam in Keaton's eye was there when he stepped on the lot and it's up to audiences to reconcile that with what comes later. While a specifically memorable shot in the film directly references a key moment in Citizen Kane and while it shares similar themes, a better comparison might be The Social Network, as a rejected outcast finally gets the opportunity to prove himself, hurting those around him on his way to the top. This is Keaton's movie, as it should completely be, but Nick Offerman really shines in his best big screen role to date as the doubting Dick McDonald, who ends up getting sucked into this anyway despite all his initial misgivings about how it could adversely affect his brother's health.

Released with such little promotion and fanfare that few knew it existed at all, it almost seems fitting that the studio behind The Founder is embroiled in a lawsuit over how mismanaged its release actually was, potentially costing Keaton another shot at an Oscar, this time for a performance that certainly would have otherwise gotten awards attention. Someone dropped the ball, which is a shame considering it's exactly the kind of film we need right now, and one of a select few this year that says as much about the times we live in now as the seemingly bygone era during which it took place. Hate or love Ray Kroc, there's no denying that what he did worked and had a serious effect on consumerism and branding all over the world, with its ripples still very much being felt today. How he did it should continue to be fodder for debate. You could say he drank the McDonald brothers' milkshake. And as an added insult, he used powdered milk.
                        

Young Adult

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Charlize Theron, Patton Oswalt, Patrick Wilson, Elizabeth Reaser, Collette Wolfe
Running Time: 94 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Young Adult is the sneakiest kind of great movie. The type that decides to stay and hang out a while. It doesn't seem like much while I was watching it or even a few hours after, but days later it crept up on me. I saw it a week ago and its been replaying in my head since. The plot can probably be summed up in a single sentence but the layers that can be peeled away from its main character seem endless. It's brave and gutsy, literally basking in its own pessimism since any other approach would just seem dishonest. A lot of viewers are going to have strong opinions about this protagonist who hits close to home in a very disturbing way. If you aren't her or at least possess a few of her less than desirable qualities, chances are you know someone who does. But as pathetic and despicable her behavior is, I can't remember a recent movie character I've felt deeper sympathy for or understood better. What happens with her is just awful and whether you can relate to her or not, there's no question this film ventures to uncomfortable, taboo territory most dramas, much less other dark comedies, refuse to go. Most will probably detest this character, but for me there were points where I wanted to reach through the screen and give her a hug. So it's a good thing the Juno team of director Jason Reitman and screenwriter Diablo Cody won't, remaining true to her cruel, funny, unsentimental journey of emotional self-destruction right up until the closing credits.

For many high school is remembered as worst time of their life. That divorced 37-year-old Mavis Gary (Charlize Theron) is desperately trying to recapture it should give you a good idea how empty her present situation is. The ghost writer of a once popular but now canceled series of young adult novels spends more time in her Minneapolis high rise sleeping, drinking liters of diet coke and watching reality TV than she does writing. She might also be an alcoholic. With the deadline fast approaching on what will be her last book in the series she receives news that her old high school boyfriend Buddy Slade (Patrick Wilson) is now married and his wife Beth (Elizabeth Reaser) just had a baby. So with only her small dog Dolce and a mix tape she gets in her Mini Cooper and embarks on a road trip back to her hometown of Mercury, Minnesota to try to break them up. Stopping at nothing to reclaim her man, she runs into former classmate Matt Freehauf (Patton Oswalt), who who was left permanently disabled by an attack in high school that made national news as a "hate crime" until it was discovered he wasn't actually gay. While he's as stuck in the past as she is, Matt isn't as delusional and seems to be the only one capable of seeing through her and telling it like it is. Even he knows her plan is a bad idea. But that doesn't mean there's anything he can do to stop her from humiliating herself and others.

The movie refuses to romanticize either side of the equation. It instead paints an unrelentingly sad and depressing portrait of failed dreams and small town life. Mavis' obsession with reclaiming her glory days (yes, like the Springsteen song) isn't presented as anything other than pathetically sad. There are no flashbacks presenting an idealized version of the past that would somehow justify her behavior to us. When she returns home to her old bedroom it's untouched since the early '90's. Any music used on the soundtrack from that era aren't obvious nostalgia-baiting choices and the ones that do pop up (like Teenage Fanclub's "The Concept" playing on a continuous loop during her drive) are meant to reflect the her delusion and obsessions more than anything else. Things back home aren't that great either. It would have been easy to show how exciting the locals' lives are so her actions would look worse and the issues would seem black and white. But nothing in this film is easy.

From Mavis' perspective we can kind of see how she'd view Buddy's life as "boring" from the outside looking in. Normal people living normal lives. Buddy never left his hometown, has worked at General Mills for years, married a cool girl who plays drums in a mom band for fun and changes diapers. Certain things are expected of you as you get older and most resemble what he's doing. Cody's script dares to ask why people make that choice and what happens to those who don't. Whether his life's exciting or not or whether she thinks he's happy is far from the point. He's moved on. So has her hometown. She hasn't. As mundane and unfulfilled she may think their lives are, the real problem is her inability to admit it's the life that slipped away. But doing that would mean actually coming to terms with her past instead of defiantly living in it.

Buddy's reaction to Mavis' return is odd and brilliantly ambiguous. We're not sure what he knows, or if he knows anything. Patrick Wilson's become an expert at playing "Mr. Nice Guy" and gets even more practice here. At various points we're not sure if he's pitying her, trying to be friend, completely repulsed, genuinely interested, stringing her along, or walking on eggshells with someone he thinks needs help. It may as well be all of them. Or none of them. The same could be said for his wife's reaction, which isn't one you'd expect considering her husband's old flame has just come charging back to town to steal him. Mavis' only friend and voice of reason turns out to be the kid whose locker was next to hers in high school, but she didn't bother talking to. Patton Oswalt's Matt is a lonely, but refreshingly honest character slightly reminiscent of the more tortured one he played a couple of years  ago in Big Fan. Only when that film's curtain was pulled back, it revealed itself as nothing but a joke with his hapless protagonist serving as the punchline, despite his earnest performance. Here he provides better, even more essential supporting work in a black comedy that doesn't chicken out. While Matt shares certain similarities with Mavis, he possesses a self awareness she lacks and his straight shooting with her is where most of the film's dark humor comes from. He knows what his deal is and thought he accepted it. Her return opens those wounds up, but he's the only person who truly gets what she's going through.

This is a fearless, tour de force performance from Charlize Theron that's not just easily the best of this year, but on par with her 2003 Academy Award-winning performance as serial killer Aileen Wuornos in Monster that Roger Ebert famously called one of the greatest in the history of the cinema. Mavis is a different kind of monster but I think I appreciate Theron's work here even more because there's no physical transformation anyone can point to as an excuse. While ugly on the inside, she does change in and out of so many different outfits and tries out so many different hairstyles that they almost become costumes and masks, with the last being the most symbolic of all. There's a moment when Mavis eagerly waits at the bar for her reunion with Buddy in this low-cut black tank top, it's a credit to Theron that we completely understand why he isn't even tempted. Mavis' self-loathing, desperation and bitchiness pierce through the actress' eyes with every glance and eye roll. She cuts with every intentional or unintentional sarcastic put-down. At one crucial point when Mavis is told she's "better than this" we believe it's true because in even the smallest throwaway moments Theron still subtly hints at the potential lost. She's in bad shape but hasn't hit bottom. At least not yet. After a brief acting hiatus Theron comes roaring back with this and the sad thing is she probably won't even be nominated. Oscar voters can't ever seem to handle it when beautiful actresses take on ugly, challenging characters unless they physically disguise themselves. Otherwise it feels too real. Here's hoping they make an exception because she's nothing short of amazing. 

Add this to the already long list of great writer movies, as this script really nails the painfully funny details. Whether Mavis is staring at the blank page only to opt checking her e-mail or taking her laptop to fast food joints to eavesdrop on conversations, this is the kind of troubled, messed-up, inside-her-own head character that could only be an author. When she writes that a couple has "textual chemistry" you can't help but laugh knowing it's the same too hip and knowing dialogue that Diablo Cody was mercilessly mocked by the media for employing when she penned her Oscar winning script for Juno. When that opened casual moviegoers reacted as if they didn't even know what a screenplay was before and just realized movies are actually written by someone. She had a very specific, unique voice that turned off as many as it impressed. You'd figure that frustration had to weigh on Cody's mind when she created this character, supposedly inspired by all the probing media questions she faced about why a thirty-something woman keeps writing about adolescents. If this is her response it feels like a giant middle finger, this time using the protagonist's perceived coolness and cleverness as a mallet to club audiences. It's the anti-Juno. And for director Jason Reitman this is by a landslide his most compelling  work yet, marking a full turn to the dark side after flirting with edgy satire in Thank You For Smoking and Up in the Air.

It seems every year people like to say a certain film "hits the zeitgeist." The term is so casually thrown around nowadays it may as well mean nothing. But finally here's one that hits it dead center. It feels so timely, targeting our culture's current obsession with nostalgia and convincing ourselves that things were better back when we thought we were better, whenever that was. Like the celebrities we simultaneously despise and idolize, Mavis functions as the mirror in which we view ourselves at our worst and it isn't pretty. But it's honest. Whether we want to admit it or not, there's probably some of her in all of us. It definitely strikes fear in me. Here's a character slightly older than I am, listens to the same type of music I did and went to high school during my era. I always say one of the weirdest things for me is seeing peers from childhood as married parents. And you'd have to not be one to really understand why that's so. This film fully articulates that feeling.
Most go to the movies to escape people like Mavis Gary, not find out what makes them tick. It's almost as if the homewrecking villain in a romantic comedy were made the lead, but given actual motivation and complexity. We expect certain things in films and a likable protagonist is one of them. And if they're not, they at least need to experience growth of some sort. While it might be a stretch to say she achieves none, it sure isn't much. Instead she's given a final act "pep talk" that further feeds her narcissistic delusion. It's clear her road to recovery will be a marathon rather than a sprint, if there's even recovery at all. And yet, that's strangely reassuring. This isn't a coming-of-age story but instead a vicious, bracingly blunt character study that goes for the jugular, creating some cringe-worthy moments that only sting that much more because they feel real. Proof that it's always the darker, riskier movies like Young Adult that cut the deepest, unafraid of going to the brutally honest places misplaced sentimentality too often prevents.

Morning Glory

Director: Roger Michell
Starring: Rachel McAdams, Harrison Ford, Diane Keaton, Patrick Wilson, Ty Burrell, Jeff Goldblum, John Pankow, Matt Malloy
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

In what has to be considered somewhat of a shocker, Harrison Ford gives one of his best performances in years in Morning Glory. Yes, that Harrison Ford. In a comedy. And he's funny. After a decade straight of flops, he finally lands a role worthy of his talents and reminds us how good an actor he can still be with sharp material. It's a shame no one went to see it because I could easily envision Ford's role here eventually appearing on a his career highlight reel and gaining respect as time goes on. It's that good. As for the movie itself, it's essentially a well-executed chick flick about a morning show set against the backdrop of a timely news vs. entertainment debate, but any guy should be relieved if they're forced to watch to it because it's one of the rare good ones. A 90's throwback of sorts, it recalls a time when romantic comedies were smart didn't star Kate Hudson, Katherine Heigl or Jennifer Aniston, and featured characters that were likable and worth rooting for. While this was a surprisingly pleasurable experience, it's easy to see why many stayed away considering it did look awful from the previews and this genre has the worst track record of any. But here is the rare, sophisticated, adult-minded romantic comedy that succeeds in entertaining the audience it's aimed at.

After being laid off from her job at Good Morning New Jersey, plucky, aspiring news producer Becky Fuller (Rachel McAdams) gets the call of her life to join the struggling morning network news show, Daybreak as their new executive producer. With The Today Show, Good Morning America and whatever that other show is on CBS (their words, not mine) crushing it in the ratings, Becky is hired by IBS network suit Jeffrey Barnes (Jeff Goldblum) in a final attempt to revitalize the program and save it from impending cancellation. In dire need of a new co-host for self-centered former beauty queen Colleen Peck (Diane Keaton), Becky finds a clause in the contract of respected veteran IBS newsman Mike Pomeroy (Ford) preventing him from sitting out the remainder of his six-million dollar deal and blackmails him into taking the gig. Unfortunately for Becky and the rest of the show's staff, Pomeroy makes his disgust of "soft news" stories and witty banter abundantly clear, often when the cameras start rolling. His refusal to cooperate puts the show and Becky's already shaky future in further jeopardy, as she tries to fight off her workaholic tendencies long enough to launch a fledgling relationship with another network producer, Adam (Patrick Wilson).

No one could have possibly guessed it would be this fun watching Harrison Ford look miserable. It's so entertaining that at first I just chalked it up to Ford actually being miserable that he's appearing in this film, which wouldn't be a stretch given his recent track record. After a little while though it becomes clear that can't be true since no actor that miserable would be able to give a performance this inspired and Ford has no reason to be cranky or embarrassed about appearing in this. Whether Pomeroy is arguing with his co-host on-air, shooting off a priceless look of disgust when confronted with a fluffy news story, or being mistaken for Dan Rather on the street, Ford never wavers in his portrayal of this unlikable old crank. He shares great chemistry with Keaton in their on-air scenes with both being completely believable as sparring newscasters but real pleasure comes in watching him play off McAdams during Becky's many clumsy attempts to integrate the straight-laced Pomeroy onto the program. This is essentially a one-joke movie but that one joke is hilarious and never comes close to wearing out its welcome because of Ford's comic timing. And when the time comes for Ford to sell a transformation that should seem impossible, he manages to pull that off also, revealing a different dimension to the character.

While it's hard to say Keaton is underutilized in her role, it isn't nearly as essential as Ford's, but that hardly matters since she's great anyway and it's one of the few recent parts she's had that matches her talent. Rachel McAdams is just terrific, effortlessly carrying the entire movie as the lead and putting to shame most of her less talented contemporaries. At first glance it seems as if she's saddled with one of those stereotypical female  rom-com roles, playing a stressed-out busybody whose life is being squashed by her career. To an extent that's true, but she's so ridiculously likable and you hardly stop to notice and the script deserves some credit for not making this about that or having her "choose" between the two. Her relationship with Patrick Wilson's character isn't essential to the plot, which is actually ends up being a relief since it's unobtrusive and handled reasonably without feeling tacked on. Wilson seems to be playing the thankless boyfriend role in every other romantic comedy released these days but it's a credit to him that he hasn't come out of even the dumbest ones looking like a fool.

Anyone criticizing this for being a lightweight comedy rather than a hard hitting social commentary on the television industry like Network or Broadcast News probably needed to adjust their expectations. It definitely won't be winning any awards for its realistic depiction of broadcast journalism, but it may as well be a documentary compared to something like 1996's unintentionally hilarious Up Close and Personal, which was easily the silliest portrayal of the news industry on screen up to this point. This is supposed to be mindless, enjoyable fluff and it is, with the laughs being well-earned by its clever script and the actors, especially Ford, who hasn't been this good in ages. Morning Glory does have a few interesting (if glaringly obvious) things to say about the sorry state of network news, even if some might look for a message that isn't there at the end. Its best aspect is assuming its audience is smart enough not to need one.

The A-Team

Director: Joe Carnahan
Starring: Liam Neeson, Bradley Cooper, Quinton Jackson, Sharlto Copley, Jessica Biel, Patrick Wilson, Brian Bloom
Running Time: 119 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Forget about whether the big screen re-boot of the popular 80's action series The A-Team is faithful to the spirit of the original because even judged solely on its own terms as silly action junk it's still a mess. As one of the more worthwhile remake ideas to come a long recently, there was actually potential to greatly improve the material by shifting it to the present day. With the right direction you could easily envision a modern day update of The A-Team being a huge success but unfortunately for every one thing that does work, about three don't. While certain elements in terms of feel and casting are spot-on, a ridiculously convoluted plot and cringe inducing dialogue make the overlong film somewhat embarrassing to sit through at times. But the biggest problem is tone. No one seems exactly sure what they're trying to make. It's Bad Boys meets The Expendables, though slightly less painful than either. When it was released a few months ago Mr. T. came out criticizing the film for its excessive sex and violence, which is funny considering there isn't much, and even if there was, that would be the least of its troubles.

The film's most clever bit is out of the way early in an entertaining twenty-minute prologue that introduces the four army rangers who together will form the elite Special Forces unit known as The A-Team, led by cranky, cigar chomping Hannibal Smith (Liam Neeson). He's joined by mohawked muscle man B.A. Baracus (Quinton "Rampage" Jackson"), cocky womanizer Templeton "Faceman" Peck (Bradley Cooper) and a mentally unstable, but brilliant helicopter pilot known as H.M. "Howling Mad" Murdoch (Sharlto Copley). Eight Years and "eighty successful missions later" while stationed in Iraq, they're dishonorably discharged and sent to prison after being framed for stealing counterfeit engraving plates. With the help of shady CIA agent Lynch (Patrick Wilson) they escape but must evade capture from Face's former lover, Captain Charissa Sosa (Jessica Biel) and track down a rogue security agent named Pike (Brian Bloom). The rest of the plot, full of double-crosses, illogical turns and centering around some kind massive conspiracy involving the guy who played Major Dad I probably wouldn't be able to pass a quiz on. It's all just an excuse to blow things up and stage giant action sequences that are difficult to follow.

Not to compare, but an advantage the original series will always have over any current big screen adaptation is a lack of technology. It's strange referring to that as an advantage but an overuse of computer generated effects isn't something that necessarily benefits a no nonsense, balls-to-the-wall property like The A-Team. The explosions and action sequences on that show looked real because they actually were and it gave the show a realistic charm. Even when action scenes were sloppy, they were at least believably sloppy, so if any action movie needed to be scaled down on CGI for a reason it was this. Instead, director/co-writer Joe Carnahan bombards us with as much action effects as possible, as well as music video style cutting quick enough to make following anything near impossible. That approach worked for him in Smokin' Aces because you couldn't envision a movie that bombastic being made any other way but here it just doesn't suit the material, with a script alternates randomly between cheesy one-liners and semi-seriousness. It's not necessarily all his fault so much as the wrong take on the material being chosen from the get-go before cameras started rolling. More shameful is composer Alan Silvestri giving only a brief, passing shout-out to the original show's legendary theme music in his score. If you have one of the most recognizable TV themes of all-time at your disposable, wouldn't it make sense to use it?  Then again, when you consider the film made such an effort to stray from what made the the original series successful, that decision comes as little surprise.

The actors' takes on these classic television characters vary in effectiveness with Liam Neeson playing Liam Neeson playing George Peppard playing Hannibal Smith. In the minds of some Neeson's been "selling out" recently with these types of roles but very few have managed to do it with more dignity and he walks away with it still intact after this. While lacking Peppard's gruff ruggedness, he gets the job done in a performance that doesn't mimic the original actor but won't be remembered as anything special. With as much screen time to be considered co-lead, Bradley Cooper goes through the entire film looking like he's still nursing his hangover from The Hangover, merely transporting that character with the macho factor upped slightly. For some reason I found him very irritating, which may have more to do with the corny dialogue he's asked to deliver than any particular problem with the performance. In any event, Face quickly becomes tiresome and unlikable, hitting the same note for two hours straight. Despite really looking the part, Mixed martial artist Quinton "Rampage" Jackson shouldn't quit his day job, failing to come across as even the slightest bit intimidating or charismatic as Baracus. That his character's relegated to the sidelines and basically a non-factor in the action doesn't help much either. Jackson shouldn't be expected to do an imitation of Mr. T (who you may have a new appreciation for after watching this) but he should be expected to do something. Of the four, Sharlto Copley comes closest to capturing the spirit of Murdoch but even that character seems like some kind of crazy parody whether you've seen the show or not. Jessica Biel and Patrick Wilson are more entertaining than all of them, especially Biel who surprisingly gives the best performance in the film, completely believable as an authoritative military captain capable of taking out The A-Team.

Viewing it through the rose-colored glasses of nostalgia, I don't remember the show being this goofy, not that it should matter any because it was probably even goofier. It was never a drama either but the biggest problem with this adaptation is its misguided desire to be both. Action comedies are tough to make well anyway, but when you pile on the added pressure of drawing new fans to a long defunct franchise and attempting to stay true to its original roots, it becomes even harder. This strays too far from the original to entice longtime fans and remains too faithful to attract any new ones, making the common mistake of modernizing too much in an attempt to fix what wasn't broken. To paraphrase Hannibal, this plan doesn't come together like it should. Though fans would also likely consider it a betrayal, a more serious take on the material could have been compelling in the right hands, but that would have been a long shot as well. 2006's polarizing Miami Vice adaptation was a messy misfire but at least Michael Mann had the guts to force us to think of that property in a way we never considered before. Whatever incarnation of The A-Team this was supposed to be it doesn't click, but the most disappointing aspect is how a show that deserved more comes off so closely resembling every other sub-par action movie released these days.

Watchmen

Director: Zack Snyder
Starring: Patrick Wilson, Jackie Earle Haley, Malin Akerman, Billy Crudup, Matthew Goode, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Carla Gugino
Running Time: 162 min.
Rating: R

★★★ 1/2 (out of ★★★★)

For months I've been kidding people that I planned on reading Alan Moore's seminal 1986 graphic novel, "Watchmen" before viewing the film. I say kidding because anyone who knows me knew I had no plans to do such a thing. I never read the book BEFORE seeing the film on which its based, wanting to always go in completely fresh. It's a policy I'd implement even if I weren't reviewing movies and one that's always seemed to work well, so there's little reason to change it. The last thing I want to to do is turn into one of those whiners who complain that "the book was better." And when you consider just how many movies I see and how many of them are based on novels, it's safe to assume that my perception and possible enjoyment of these films would be substantially altered (if not ruined) by reading the books they're adapted from.

I've never been more pleased with this policy than after seeing Zack Snyder's take on Watchmen, especially given all the controversy its adaptation has caused. This supposedly sacred text, long considered "the Citizen Kane of comics," has always been labeled more or less unfilmable and when the shocking news broke that it would be attempted, irate fanboys were up in arms. So isn't it ironic that Snyder went out and made a movie that would only appeal to those who thought it shouldn't have been made? Then it's released and he's publicly dragged through the mud for being too slavishly true to the source material. Poor guy can't win. Having not read it I can't comment on how true it is to the novel (though I've heard it's VERY) but it does play like an insane amount of effort was put into capturing the look and visuals, even if deep ideas don't always come along for the ride.

In its over two and a half hour theatrical version it's a sprawling, sometimes brilliant mess as frustrating as it is unforgettable, without making the slightest effort to be accessible to casual viewers unfamiliar with the novel. And that's the double-edged sword of a "faithful" adaptation. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Yet in spite of all its attempts to alienate me I strangely became absorbed in it all anyway. For what its worth, the film drips in stylistic cool, is unmatched in visuals and production design and earns its R rating. None of this is a surprise considering it comes from the director of 300, who isn't exactly known for his subtlety.

There are definitely glimpses of a masterpiece in here and for the first 10 minutes it sure seems destined to be one. But there's still this nagging feeling (made much more evident in the director's cut than the theatrical one) that something more emotionally resonant could have been unearthed with tighter, more focused direction. Even someone completely unaware of the source could tell this was a very tough work to translate to the screen and Snyder deserves credit for at least having the guts to try, as divisive as the results may have been.

The film opens in an alternate 1985 where Richard Nixon is serving his fifth term as President and the threat of war with the Soviet Union is a very likely possibility as the "Doomsday Clock" counts down toward Armageddon. We're introduced to a group of superhero vigilantes known as the Watchmen who have been outlawed by Nixon since 1977, their costumes retired and identities kept under wraps. Only two still remain under government employ: Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup), formerly scientist Tom Osterman, created as a result of a nuclear accident and possessing the power to control the universe. And the brash Edward Blake/the Comedian (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) whose gruesome murder in the film's opening scene sets the plot's wheels in motion.

The exiled, ink blot masked Rorschach (a brilliant Jackie Earle Haley) suspects foul play and recruits the very reluctant Dan Dreiberg/Nite Owl (Patrick Wilson) back into action. Joining them is Dr. Manhattan's assistant and girlfriend, Laurie Jupiter/Silk Spectre II (Malin Akerman), who faces the thankless challenge of living up to the legacy of her superhero mother, the original Silk Spectre (Carla Gugino in retro pinup mode). The final member to again suit up is Adrian Veidt/Ozymandias, the "smartest man in the world," who revealed his identity to the public, using his name to make billions funding scientific research. Rorschach is determined to uncover what he believes is not only a massive conspiracy to wipe out the group, but something with more disastrous results for the entire human race.

It was inevitable that with the success of The Dark Knight we'd be seeing darker superhero films and it's a credit to Snyder's direction that as messy as this is it doesn't suffer as badly as you'd expect in direct comparison to Nolan's film. A lot of that could probably be chalked up to the fact that Moore's story (or however much of it survived in David Hayter's script) is just so bizarre and original that it's forced to be judged on its own terms. Like The Dark Knight it asks the intriguing question of what would happen if superheroes really existed. What would they look like? What would they do? How would they affect society? But unlike Nolan's film, the tone sometimes comes across as campy, while still finding a way to entrench itself in a kind of pseudo self-seriousness. What really needs to be said about a film that features a ship ejaculating? Snyder really struggles to effectively balance this tone from time to time because the material is just so challenging and he isn't quite there as a filmmaker yet. But he's close.

The big ideas that are present are front and center in the opening minutes of the film with one of the best title sequences I've ever seen. Unforgettably set to Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A Changin," the sequence somehow manages to be both movingly poignant and hilarious as the Watchmen and their superhero forebearers, the Minutemen, are shown via fake newsreel footage shaping the events of this alternate history. Give the studio credit for biting the bullet to pay for the use of the entire song. A fortune for sure, but worth every penny. It marks the first of many classic rock songs on Snyder's playlist (which also includes Hendrix, Simon & Garfunkel and Leonard Cohen) that will sometimes distractingly invade upon the picture at the strangest of times. At least he has good taste. Unfortunately, this groundbreaking opening sequence also sets up unrealistic expectations for what follows.

The film's structure is muddled and sometimes confusing, jumping back and forth between Rorschach's murder mystery investigation and attempts to draw the Watchmen out of retirement as we're given flashbacks and all their backstories. The device feels like something that could have been directly lifted from the novel and if it isn't I'll stand corrected. Through these flashbacks, some substantially more involving than others, we learn that they're less superheroes than deeply flawed, psychologically damaged people who wear costumes and are working through some major issues.

None except maybe two could even be considered the slightest bit likable with the worst of all being the film's victim, the cynical Comedian, a depraved rapist and murderer whose bleak outlook on the world isn't completely unlike Ledger's Joker. In his view, society created him and will have to live with the consequences. What little sympathy we initially felt upon his demise is quickly wiped away after we actually get to know the guy. Jeffrey Dean Morgan is terrifying and funny in a role that's larger in importance than screen time. While the characters are unsympathetic and difficult to like I did care what happened to them, and much of that can be chalked up to the other strong performances, one of which is possibly award worthy.

Jackie Earle Haley should give his agent a raise for having this be the big role to follow his Oscar nominated comeback in Little Children from a couple of years ago. Under the mask he's effectively scary as Rorschach but it's toward the middle section of the film when he's locked up and it's taken off, exposing Walter Kovacs, that we're given insight into the sociopath who wore it. And that's when the brilliant ferocity of Haley's performance as really takes over in string of memorable scenes. Billy Crudup, best known for playing a "Golden God" in another film is a blue one here and aided by some great CGI brings a unique calmness and low-key tranquility to Dr. Manhattan, who's essentially a prisoner of his own powers and we maybe see more of than we'd like. The most intriguing flashbacks of the film are to his life before the accident.

A nearly unrecognizable Malin Akerman has been cited by many as the weak link as Silk Spectre II and while she's unproven as an actress and this part was probably more than she was ready for, I thought she fared as well as could be expected. Those claiming she's so dreadful probably all read the novel and carry delusions of grandeur in terms of what they think the character should have been. Although it is kind of funny to think that the actress whose most notable work until now was in the awful Farrelly Brothers comedy The Heartbreak Kid beat out all others to land such an iconic role. But it fits, possibly because I haven't read the novel I have problems picturing another actress bringing more to the part (or the costume for that matter).

The relationship between her character and Patrick Wilson's Nite Owl is handled well with the always reliable, underrated Wilson proving once again that he's pretty much capable of anything, this time playing a paunchy, out shape dork afraid to come out of superhero retirement. It kind of reminded me how Clark Kent should be played, if he was to be played again. He's both literally and figuratively impotent with Dan being nothing until he puts on that costume. Wilson portrays that reluctant transformation perfectly.

On the flip side, Matthew Goode projects very little in the way of charisma or intelligence as Ozmandias in the film's flattest performance. He just has no presence at all in a role that seems to have been written especially to convey that. It's the one part that feels like it was miscast and should have been filled with a bigger star capable of coming across as a larger than life personality. It starts to become an even bigger issue for obvious reasons toward the third act of the picture, resulting in an ending that comes across messier than it should. This, and an embarrassing caricature of Richard Nixon (realizing our worst fears of how stupidly he could be portrayed onscreen) are the two biggest faults of the film.

Snyder would have just been better off not showing the Nixon character or shooting the actor from behind since his physical presence is inconsequential to the story anyway. Actor Robert Wisden is less to blame than all the latex he's buried under which makes you wonder why they just didn't put a Nixon Halloween mask over his head and call it a day. Where's Frank Langella when you need him? But the funniest thing about this unintentionally hilarious depiction of Nixon is that it does somehow strangely fit the bizarre tone of the film.

When Watchmen ended I had no idea what I thought of it, which isn't rare for me. Usually when something like that occurs a second viewing is required. Except that second look came in the form of the over 3 hour director's cut which makes for a great point of comparison or a terrible one, depending on your perspective. I'm leaning toward the latter. Unaware of its gargantuan running time beforehand I was hoping this version would not only clear up questions I had about the narrative, but also enhance the overall experience as many director's cuts have done in the past. Instead it accomplished the exact opposite, diminishing much of the film's power.

Usually, I have nothing against director's cuts (my all-time favorite film is one) but there's just no restraint shown at all here. The seemingly minor flaws in the theatrical version are magnified and a story that didn't have the tightest focus to begin with became much more muddled with useless, excess breathing room. The additional 24 minutes ADD NOTHING. But beyond that, they actually take away from what was already there by piling on scenes that would only interest someone deeply familiar with the source material. In other words, drooling fanboys and no one else. Did I really need to see Hollis Mason's death? Of course not. It's a total waste of time. Those who read the novel are probably gasping at that statement but that's exactly the point: You read the novel. Many others didn't and a movie has to be made for them also.

While the theatrical cut finds a good balance in appealing to fans and newbies alike the extended version flies off the rails with self-indulgence, feeling like it was storyboarded to death to cram every little detail in. We get more of bizarro Nixon and a bigger dose of Rorschach than is necessary, especially in regards to his sometimes over-explanatory voice-over narration. The decision to use that in any version is a questionable call, but it seems worse in the director's cut, recalling that infamous Blade Runner voice-over debacle. Scenes that were wisely cut short initially extend well past their saturation point, which sometimes makes for a trying viewing experience.

NO MOTION PICTURE SHOULD BE 186 MINUTES LONG. It's cruel and unusual punishment, regardless of how dense the material it was adapted from is. It reeks of bloated egotism on the part of the director. And I'll think twice now before siding with a filmmaker who complains he wasn't allowed to "fully realize" his vision...IN OVER TWO AND A HALF HOURS! It's great to want to please fans of the novel and do the story justice but sometimes less should be more. Instead of locking Snyder and his over 3 hour cut in a cell and throwing away the key, Warner Bros. stupidly gave in to his con job by actually giving this unnecessary version a limited theatrical release earlier in the year. I've yet to revisit the original version since but after viewing the director's cut but it'll be interesting to see how it plays now.

Watchmen's release was accompanied with the tagline: "FROM THE VISIONARY DIRECTOR OF 300." That effort was disposable war porn but here Snyder comes one step closer to earning that "visionary" label. Nothing about this is forgettable or lacks vision, despite carrying that similar "style over substance" vibe. Luckily for Snyder I'm reviewing the FAR SUPERIOR theatrical cut which is only fair considering that's how it was released. And if you think I've talked about both just to avoid forming a solid conclusive opinion on the film, you're completely right. But I do know I'd see it again in a heartbeat and can't stop pondering the story or the characters, making me believe this could be one of those times where those telling me "the book is better" may be right.

Alan Moore took his name off the film just as he did V For Vendetta before it and you can't blame him. It's his baby and he has every reason to be protective. But after that, there's nothing he can do to control our reactions to it. I didn't even read the novel and can tell this makes for a fascinating study on adaptation and how hard it is to please everyone, even if you've stayed as true as possible to the source as possible. That Watchmen leads to conversations and analysis like that is the highest compliment it can get and proves why every work, regardless of stature, should be fair game for cinematic interpretation. Just don't expect me to read the book first.

Passengers

Director: Rodrigo Garcia
Starring: Anne Hathaway, Patrick Wilson, Andre Braugher, Clea DuVall, David Morse, Dianne Wiest, William B. Davis
Running Time: 93 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Passengers is a deeply misunderstood movie. Misunderstood by nearly all critics and audiences who saw it. Yep, all five of them. Dumped into theaters for about a week before hitting DVD it's the latest victim of mismarketing and false expectations. It isn't a cheesy "B" horror movie or a "suspense thriller" as the posters, taglines and cover art imply. And that's why it's successful. It's a compelling if only slightly uneven human drama that doesn't belong in the bargain bin like you've heard. More surprisingly, it's made too well to even be considered a guilty pleasure.

Yes, there's a big twist ending but everyone was too busy pointing their fingers at what other movies it may have "ripped off" that they forgot to actually look at the context it was presented in or notice that it worked very well. I didn't think a film focusing on the mysterious circumstances involving a plane crash and featuring such diverse talents as Anne Hathaway, Patrick Wilson and David Morse could possibly be awful. I was right. They have nothing to be ashamed of for appearing in this, especially Hathaway who gives a performance that not only rises above the material, but elevates it. Those hoping to see her slumming it for a quick payday will be sorely disappointed. I guess you'll just have to rent Bride Wars instead.

The film appears to make its first mistake within the opening minutes by not showing us the horrific plane crash that jump starts the narrative or letting us get to know the passengers on any personal level. But there are reasons. They're not entirely surprising, but are much more rewarding than I expected. It opens, Lost-style, with the few surviving passengers wandering aimlessly as the plane engulfs in flames. A frazzled, inexperienced psychotherapist Claire Summers (Hathaway) is assigned by her superior (Andre Braugher) to counsel the survivors and deal with their post-traumatic stress. In her late twenties, she's spent more time collecting diplomas and masters degrees than living life, which proves to be a major hurdle in helping these people. As far as grief counselors go, she isn't a very effective one. And knows it.

Each of the passengers handle their ordeal in different ways, but one of the survivors, Eric (Wilson), appears to be on a euphoric high after the crash, relishing every moment and making major life changes. In other words, he's in complete denial and could explode at any moment. A major part of his new self-improvement program is trying to get the repressed Claire to loosen up enough to sleep with him. Claire is concerned when Eric starts showing signs of "E.S.P.", knowing things about Claire only those closest to her (and probably just about everyone else on the planet) would, like that she takes milk and sugar in her coffee and has a sister.

The more the mysterious details of the plane crash present themselves the more interested she becomes in piecing them together to give her patients closure. This raises the ire of an airline beaurocrat (David Morse) who's trying to cover up the company's possible negligence in the crash. Since he's played by Morse you probably could have guessed that he's really creepy and talks in an evil whisper. Tensions escalate when the surviving passengers start to go missing and Claire's relationship with Eric crosses that "ethical line." Worse yet, her kooky neighbor (Dianne Wiest) won't leave her alone and yes even the Cigarette Smoking Man (William B. Davis) from The X-Files shows up to join in the action.

I was worried this movie would go the way of the dreadful Julianne Moore supernatural thriller The Forgotten from a few years ago. Strong premise, pathetic follow through. Instead what shows up onscreen more closely resembles Peter Weir's Fearless, the definitive entry on the psychological scars of a plane crash and a character driven drama interested in examining how we choose to live our lives. The central mystery involving the crash isn't that interesting (at least until the final minutes) but it's to director Rodrigo Garcia's credit that he knows this and focuses instead on the relationship between Claire and Eric.

Despite his considerable talent, I fully expected Wilson to be roped into doing a poor man's Jack Shepherd from Lost, minus the beard and prescription drugs. But what he does with the character is kind of bizarrely brilliant and hysterical...in a good way. He's definitely not your typical traumatized survivor and a lot of things that came out of his mouth were really funny. In fcat his delivery was so funny and his chemistry with Hathaway so breezy you get the impression that if he signed up for a romantic comedy opposite her it would be excellent. We saw glimpses of his deadpan humor in Little Children but this was a completely different kind of part for him. He's not just playing a variation on the "everyman" here or "Mr. Nice Guy."

Hathaway is given a surprisingly complex, multifaceted character to play for this type of film, completely believable as a counselor without the confidence in herself to do the job, or do anything. Toward the final act you realize her role was even better developed than you thought and a good effort was put forth into fleshing her out, both by the writer and the actress. I've been very slow to come around on on Hathway but in the past year with Get Smart, Rachel Getting Married and now this she's proven she's got the goods to stick around a long time. Consider me a fan. A true test for any actor is always whether they can not only survive starring in a movie like this but actually make it entertaining. She's been criticized left and right for the choice but if anyone looked closer they'd see she wasn't just playing a pawn in a cheap thriller. Her character drives the plot and I can see why the role looked inviting beyond the paycheck.

I won't claim the twist ending is some big shocker and I'd be surprised if no one guesses it (minus a few details) by at least the halfway point, but I can argue that's it's handled with restraint and resonates emotionally. It's not treated as some big "GOTCHA!" moment. Instead, Garcia uses the final moments to explore the characters and it goes a long way to help explain some of the more problematic and confusing sections of the film away. The best example is the payoff involving Morse's character. It's unexpected, but sure makes a lot of sense when you think back on the picture.

The real twist here isn't the actual twist, but that you thought you were watching one kind of film and Garcia gave you another. Compare this to Flight Plan or Red Eye, where we're promised something huge and then cheated in the final act when it devolves into a routine thriller. This goes in the exact opposite direction. We think we're getting a routine thriller but its conclusion proves otherwise. The plane crash, when we do see it, is gripping and good technical decisions are made throughout, such as a subtle, unobtrusive score and rich, textured lighting from cinematographer Igor Jadue-Lillo. The PG-13 also rating feels appropriate, not a cop-out where you can tell certain sections were watered down in post-production to appease the masses. Garcia isn't a mainstream director, specializing in intimate character driven pieces, and the film is all the better for it. It's more of a pensive and reflective experience than a thrilling one, but explaining exactly how would require more information than should be revealed.

It's a pity when a film is mismarketed. THIS IS NOT A THRILLER OR A HORROR MOVIE. Had that important distinction been made in the advertising Passengers could have cleaned up a little at the box office or at least broken even given its premise and star power. A movie shouldn't be punished for what it isn't, but judged on its own terms. And blame most definitely shouldn't be placed on Hathway and Wilson who go way above and beyond the call of duty with their performances. They made me care about both these people and the story. I knew they were good, but this is further proof of just how good. Watch Passengers because of them, but also watch it because it's actually far smarter and much better than you'd expect.

Lakeview Terrace

Director: Neil LaBute
Starring: Samuel L. Jackson, Patrick Wilson, Kerry Washington, Jay Hernandez
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: PG-13

*** (out of ****)

In Neil LaBute’s “neighbor from hell” suburban thriller Lakeview Terrace we’re teased with a deep, subtle character study before the film turns on itself to reveal the makeshift thriller you expected all along. This is particularly stinging if only because Samuel L. Jackson is given a fairly layered role for a change, at least for most of the running time. His performance could almost be described as restrained and realistic, bolstered by a script that really understands how people behave and react in certain situations. When everything flies off the rails in the last half hour (albeit in a pulse pounding, entertaining way), there’s still that lingering feeling something much deeper could have been done with the material.

The LaBute who directed 1997’s In The Company of Men would have given us that film, a suburban nightmare that could have been on par with the best in the genre. Instead, we’re left with the kind of film the two sleazebag main characters in that movie would have directed. It’s still successful mainly because of the performances and overall strength of the premise, but a lot more could have been done, or more accurately, less should have been done.

What starts as a serious examination of American suburbia degenerates into a game of baiting audiences into feeling as much seething hatred for its antagonist as humanly possible, which isn’t difficult considering the heft Jackson brings to the role. He slowly morphs from being merely abrasive and unlikable into the devil incarnate. The story is familiar in the best and worst possible ways. It struck a chord, which in the end, turns out to be all the movie was really aiming for. So it’s mildly successful, if not necessarily rewarding.

It’s an exciting time for Chris Mattson (Patrick Wilson) and his wife Lisa (Kerry Washington) who have just purchased their dream home in a picaresque Southern California community. Their next-door neighbor, widowed father Abel Turner (Jackson) is a take no prisoners L.A.P.D. police officer who’s just as strict and stern at home with his two kids (Regine Nehy and Jaison Fisher) as he is on the job. At first everything between the neighbors is fine, until the volatile Turner starts actively seeking out reasons for it not to be. Chris and Lisa accidentally make it easy for him with a risqué swimming exhibition for his kids late one night. That’s the trigger that sets him off, but if it wasn’t that he would have surely found something else. Then comes the uncomfortable comments and awkward situations that reveal Turner may not just be your typical angry neighbor, but a bitter racist with an axe to grind.
He starts slowly dropping subtly inappropriate remarks that imply he’s a lot more than annoyed that he’s living next door to an interracial couple. This is where the creative meat of the film and Jackson’s performance come into full view. The remarks are bad, but they’re not SO BAD that you’d avoid contact with this person altogether. They start as just plain strange and uncomfortable and you’d see at first why Chris would want to make an effort to get along with this guy before rushing to judgment.

Jackson’s intimidating presence conveys Turner as a man you don’t want on your bad side, but there’s a softer side that implies he’d have your back if he likes you. Wilson was the right actor to play opposite him because he represents Chris as the “everyman” who tries his best to get along with everyone, yet becomes flustered when his good intentions fail to yield the desired result. He handles the situation exactly how any of us would, which brings the film closer to home. As Chris’ efforts to reach a middle ground with Turner fail it brings to the surface some issues in his marriage and relationship with his father-in-law. Things may not be as perfect as he thought, but are they ever?

Much of the first hour is excellent because it focuses on these real-life issues and puts into the position of imagining how we’d deal with this situation. The issue of race boils to the surface and you can’t help but consider how we’d react if the characters’ races were reversed. It’s a sensitive issue. All these ideas. All this set-up. An intriguing Jackson performance. All the cards were in place. But instead of looking for real emotional truth in the film’s final 40 minutes someone thought it would be a better idea to descend into standard thriller territory.

Jackson tries to keep it as grounded as he can given the circumstances, but the longer this whole thing goes the more Turner starts moving away from being the complex, angry man we first met to resembling a movie character acting out the required beats of the plot. The intelligent elements that were present in the script earlier don’t seem that intelligent when viewed in light of the ending. An ending should make the events that proceed it seem more meaningful, not less so. An ill-advised scene meant to give Turner an involving backstory instead comes off as the film trying to apologize for his sociopathic behavior, or worse, urge us to feel sorry for him.
The third act feels very generic, reeking of studio interference and test screenings, which is a shame considering the many other interesting directions this could have gone. They took the easy way out but I was on the edge of my seat anyway because of Jackson’s performance and genuine hatred you build for his character throughout the course of the film. If this is a step up for him, it can’t be considered one for Wilson, but that’s only because it’s tough to top Oscar-worthy performances in two of the decade’s best dramas. Those films, Little Children and Hard Candy, dug deep into suburban moral decay in ways this film could have if David Loughery and Howard Korder’s script were ambitious enough. They also gave Wilson deeper, more flawed characters to work with. Here he’s just basically playing some preppy white guy who lives down the street. Despite being limited by the role he succeeds in making it seem more important than it is and is the perfect foil for Jackson.

At one point during the film Chris tries to convince Turner that he and his wife have a lot in common. I couldn’t help but laugh at that as I pictured them boring one another to death on a daily basis. This couple’s life and their personalities aren’t very exciting and seem to exist for the sole reason of drawing Turner’s ire and bringing his latent racist tendencies to the surface. We're lead to believe the friendship between Washington's Lisa and Turner’s teenage daughter will be explored as something meaningful. It isn’t. Both kids are all but discarded halfway through the story, disappointing because the performances from the young actors are actually pretty good.

As a thriller this delivers exactly what was advertised so there isn’t much to complain about on that front. It’s as a character study where it doesn’t reach its expected potential. Then again, from the trailers, I wasn’t expecting anything remotely resembling a character study to begin with so you could say the film over-performed slightly in that sense. It really all depends on your perspective and the attitude you approach this with. Since I tend to love suburban nightmare films this would have to do a lot more wrong to hit a sour note with me.

Like most, I gave up trying to figure out what’s happened to the career of LaBute after his 2006 remake of The Wicker Man, but the problems that exist here are primarily with the script, which he didn’t write. The film works for what it is and that’s mainly because of the performances, especially Jackson’s. Lakeview Terrace definitely could have been better but I strangely expected it to be a lot worse. It's at least somewhat smart for a dumb thriller.

Little Children

Director: Todd Field

Starring: Kate Winslet, Patrick Wilson, Jennifer Connelly, Jackie Earle Haley, Noah Emmerich, Phyllis Sommerville, Gregg Edelman

Running Time: 130 min.
Rating: R

**** (out of ****)
In 2001 Todd Field released In The Bedroom, which earned an Oscar nomination for Best Picture and was hailed by many critics as a masterpiece. It wasn't. Little Children is. What was the first thing I did after I finished watching this film? I sat and thought about it for a long, long time. And then...I watched it again. It's not an easy movie to sit through emotionally but it really requires at least two viewings to fully appreciate all the subtle nuances and tiny details that hide between the cracks of the film, in both the directing and the performances. It's so observant and intelligent about life that you might not even notice all the ground it covers at first. I know I didn't. After the first viewing I was taken aback and not quite sure what to make of it because it's so different from anything that's out there right now. It's very dense, methodically paced, isn't easily accessible and plays like a sprawling novel.

Based on Tom Perrotta's 2004 bestseller of the same name, Field co-wrote the script with author, going on record as saying they had no interest in simply just translating the material onto the screen, but adding a different dimension to it. Having not read the book I can't compare the two, but I have a feeling this is one of those rare adaptations where the integrity of the original work was not only preserved, but enhanced. Kubrickian in its execution, the film features a visionary style, sterile quality, and dark sense of humor the late director would have surely appreciated. It even contains a Barry Lydon-style voiceover narration. There's a throwback feel to it, from the creepy opening title sequence to the score and pacing all the way to it's ambiguous but ambitious ending. It could hold its own with some of the best from the 60's and 70's. The kind of movie they don't make anymore.

I thought Kubrick comparison may have been unfair until I remembered that Todd Field was an actor before he was a director and had a small role in Kubrick's last and most underrated film, Eyes Wide Shut. It looks like someone took notes. Many filmmakers have attempted to employ Kubrick's style over the years but none have come close to succeeding technically or effectively harnessing the spirit of them. Field has.

The film perfectly capturing those lazy summer afternoons in suburbia where the "desperate housewives" sit idly on the park bench gossiping while their children play. Playground politics are on full display in this small Massachusetts suburb and Field keeps digging deeper and deeper into the hypocrisy that surrounds its inhabitants. Someone who wants no part of this hypocrisy and is truthful to herself to a fault is Sarah Pierce (Oscar nominated Kate Winslet). A free spirited woman who was once a dissertation away from her Master's degree in English and is now a mother who couldn't possibly be more unfit for motherhood. Her only enjoyment in life comes from her evening walk around the neighborhood facilitated by her husband Richard's (Gregg Edelman) return from work, where he stays late masturbating to internet porn.

Sarah finds herself amidst three shallow housewives who have set their sights on a man they've dubbed the "Prom King," who has returned to the playground with his son after a long absence. This is Brad Adamson (Patrick Wilson) a stay-at-home dad whose beautiful wife, Kathy (Jennifer Connelly) is a successful PBS documentary filmmaker and family breadwinner. That she's a documentary filmmaker is a neat touch since the uncredited voice that narrates this film belongs to Will Lyman of PBS Frontline fame. Screenwriting coach Robert McKee will probably yell at me for saying this but I'm a sucker for voice over narration. If used well it can add a lot to and this is possibly the best use of it ever in a film. The narrator here is smart, eloquent and often very humorous, popping up at just the right moment (like a tense dinner scene) to add rather than detract from the story. His voice is as much a character as anyone else's in the film.

Brad spends his days entertaining his son and his nights pretending to study for the bar exam, which he's failed more times than JFK Jr. He doesn't want to be a lawyer, or really much of anything for that matter. Time that could be spent studying is used watching kids skateboard in the park in an attempt to recapture the teenage years that eluded him, even though the kids don't even notice he's there. The housewives in the playground are too scared to talk to him, or maybe simply too lazy, but Sarah isn't and on a dare strikes up a conversation. As a joke they share a kiss in front of the shocked and horrified mothers resulting in a very funny scene. That eventually leads to summer afternoons at the pool with the kids and a deep friendship. It soon turns into a torrid affair.

Meanwhile the entire neighborhood has a bigger problem with the release of convicted child molester Ronnie J. McGorvey (Oscar nominated Jackie Earle Haley) from jail after serving a 2-year sentence. He comes home to live with his aging mother (the wonderful Phyllis Somerville) and their scenes together are maybe the most touching, and at the same time strangely pathetic, of the film. She's trying to prepare him for life when she's gone despite the distraction of the town breathing down their necks. When he shows up for a swim at the public pool the parents grab their kids and flee like they've seen Jaws. Leading the charge is Larry Hedges (a completely unrecognizable Noah Emmerich), a "retired" neighborhood cop who leads a group called "The Committee for Concerned Parents" who makes it their mission to rid the town of this pedophile. He organizes a weekly touch football game with the guys and recruits Brad to be their quarterback. He has a secret of his own. From the opening scene of the film, with figurines rattling on a shelf as the sound of an oncoming train approaches, we're prepared for tragedy as these characters' lives threaten to intersect in the worst possible way for over two tension-filled hours.

Rarely does a film get so many little details right and hide such small treasures for the viewer to discover. Like the jester hat Brad's son wears all day but takes off the second his mother comes through the door, as if playtime is over. The real parent is home. No use for silly costumes. Or Sarah forgetting the rice cakes for her daughter and her frazzled reaction to it. Has anyone ever been more ill equipped for parenthood? The narrator at times mirrors the thoughts of the audience as he wonders how Brad can possibly cheat on his seemingly "perfect" wife with Sarah but we actually do know why and so does he. Sarah understands him and for Brad that means an awful lot right now. His wife would rather share the bed with their infant son.

The movie tries to convince us that Sarah is even physically wrong for Brad with her "boyish figure," and does an admirable job dressing her in baggy clothes to make her look as unflattering as possible. Of course we know Kate Winslet is far from ugly and having a "boyish figure," but if the narrator and wardrobe do not completely convince you, her performance will. She digs deep into this sad and negligent mother to deliver the finest work of her career. Some may find her scene with the book club discussing Madame Bovary a little too on the nose and in the hands of a lesser director it would have been. Field knows just the right way to handle it and Winslet is captivating.

On the surface Jennifer Connelly's Kathy seems like just a ball and chain plot device for Brad and Sarah to get together and an underdeveloped character. Look closer though. Watch how Connelly effectively portrays a nagging wife without ever once nagging. She'll give a look or say something just a certain way that gets under Brad's skin. When he announces he's thinking of buying a cell phone her response is so simple and matter of fact that it's actually devastating. How about when Brad comes home and finds a list of magazines he's subscribed to on the table with a note attached: "Do You Really Need These?" Finally a movie portrays marital strife with something a spouse would actually do! People don't always scream and yell at each other. These are the things that hurt more.

Over the past two weeks, between this and the indie drama Hard Candy, I've been able to see two movies starring Patrick Wilson, who I had never really seen or heard of before then. Both of these films are among the best I've seen in years and I think the reason neither performance garnered nominations (perhaps aside from the uncomfortable subject matter) is that he has such a natural screen presence that it appears he isn't doing anything. He's the best kind of actor. He doesn't force anything and can slip into a character without you noticing he's inhabiting it. With his blank expression and regular everyman looks you don't even notice he's giving a performance. Of course it wouldn't be up for any awards. It's too subtly brilliant and never draws any attention to itself. It's what he doesn't do that makes him so effective.

Much has made of Jackie Earle Haley's huge comeback and return to Hollywood's good graces thirty years after his role in The Bad News Bears. The strange thing about his performance as Ronnie is that it doesn't pull you in immediately, but rather sneaks up on you and slowly builds throughout the film until it finally explodes, or more accurately, implodes. His blind date is painful to watch. It seems like it's going well until we realize this man is simply not capable of having any kind of normal social interaction with anyone. The date ends the only way it can: in disaster.

Recently there has been some forward progression in how pedophiles have been portrayed onscreen. Between this film, The Woodsman and Hard Candy we're seeing pedophiles portrayed not as nameless, faceless monsters but as real people who are seriously ill and need help. Their behavior may be monsterous but it doesn't mean they're not human. It may be easier for us to pretend they're not, but if we do we're no closer to understanding what causes it. If we don't understand that, how can we prevent it? It's a reminder movies can educate as well as entertain. A lot of people are going to be uncomfortable with a movie that presents a pedophile in a sympathetic light, but I don't think this does that. It presents him as a sick human. Haley's performance is what earns our sympathy. Your heart breaks for the guy.

As good Haley's performance is, it's not the best in the film. I think that honor belongs to Noah Emmerich as the neighbor who makes it his life goal to harass the hell out of Ronnie and his mother. I can't tell you how many neighborhood parents I knew growing up who were exactly like ex-cop Larry Hedges. I could swear I knew the man. Emmerich gets every detail just right. It's so spot on it's scary. Loud, lonely, obnoxious, opinionated and self-centered he's the guy in the neighborhood you're nice to because you feel you have to be. Not a bad guy mind you, just annoying. You always have that feeling that he's harmless though, as he hides behind his mask of insecurity. For good reason. Everyone has a past. Especially guys like Larry. When you live in a small town you really have no choice but to be nice to him because you're going to have to deal with him every day. I loved it when Kathy had to remind Brad that he doesn't even like Larry Hedges. How true that often we get so caught up in our routines we're not even sure how we really feel about anyone, or even if we care anymore.

Emmerich, a fine character actor best known for his "best friend" supporting roles in films like The Truman Show and Frequency finally has an opportunity to play a character that's three dimensional and complex, and he sinks his teeth into it. How committed was he to this performance? Let's just say when he first appeared on screen I had no idea who he was. He looks like he lost all the weight DeNiro gained for Raging Bull. You can tell he underwent both a physical and emotional transformation to become this neurotic, obsessed man. It's the great overlooked performance of the film because it weaves so seamlessly and realistically into the story that it's almost impossible to notice how powerful his work is upon an initial viewing. His character is at the heart and soul of this film and that's never clearer than at the end. I think it's my favorite performance, supporting or otherwise, of the past year and Emmerich deserved a nomination.

Everyone has their favorite genre of film. Some like horror, others action/adventure, and some prefer suspense films. I always get strange looks when I tell people my favorite type of films are suburban nightmares. There's something about real people put in real situations with the volume turned way up that I respond to. Since I grew up in a small town a lot like this one (minus the public pool) and hated it it's always interesting for me to see these types of films exposing the hypocrisy of the residents, yet still showing them as human beings who make mistakes. The title of the film is cruelly ironic as it's the parents who are really the "little children." They need to be protected…from themselves. There's something about the truthful way it exposes how people think and act that we can learn from. I would rank this film alongside American Beauty, The Ice Storm and The Swimmer as the greatest in this genre.

I went into this film with the highest expectations imaginable and they were exceeded tenfold. In a year that's seen films like Children of Men and Notes on a Scandal come with incredible hype only to fall short for me I went in with great trepidation as well as optimism. As the film's finale approached I worried Field would force all these characters into a contrived collision course of melodrama. Just the opposite occurred. Instead the film ended quietly, introspectively and intelligently. At first I was surprised how abrupt the ending was and the lack of closure. But sometimes in life, that's how it is.

You have to wonder what would have happened had New Line gotten behind this film and pushed it like all the mindless sequels and remakes we've been seeing in theaters lately. That it was only nominated for 3 (albeit very well deserved) Academy Awards is shameful. It should have been a lock for a Best Picture nomination. How Field's first feature In the Bedroom, a great film but inferior on every single level, earned one in 2001 is perplexing. I think mismarketing is to blame and it's carried over into the DVD release as well. The cover art makes the film look like a romantic comedy and doesn't even hint at the emotional heft and complexity of this story.

Interestingly, the DVD doesn't come with a single special feature (not even a trailer) and there are no plans for a special edition in the future. You know what? I'm glad. Any special feature accompanying a film like this would seem gratuitous. Supplemental material, which in most cases is still a good idea, has devolved into a tool for filmmakers to hide the fact their movie sucks. I really don't need to hear George Lucas talk about the catering crew on the Star Wars Episode III DVD. This movie can stand on it's own and it's fitting there isn't a feature on here because this movie doesn't even seem like it belongs in the DVD era at all. That this is only Todd Field's second film can mean one of two things: He's peaked, or more frighteningly, his best work is yet to come. Either way, Little Children is one of those rare motion pictures that stay with you.