Kick-Back Friday: April 2010 Archives
Intermission
(2003): I believe that Colin Farrell and America got off on the wrong foot. The actor's bad-boy antics could hardly be excused by his clumsy work in Spielberg's Minority Report (2002) or Oliver Stone's Alexander (2004). Dude should have adhered to his Irish roots if In Bruges (2008) and Intermission are any indication. Farrell is vastly better in both Irish films than in any Hollywood vehicle to date.* And he proves himself to be, not a leading man, but an exceptional ensemble player—particularly in Intermission, a 9-plus character jumble of what goes down whan a young couple breaks up.* With the possible exception of Crazy Heart.
The Informant (2009): Steven Soderbergh's farcical take on the price-fixing scandal of the Archer Daniels Midland company and whistleblower Mark Whitacre would have been a whole lot better (and funnier) without the overbearing score by Marvin Hamlisch. (Marvin to viewers: Yes, yes, audience! This is comical! And this here! And oh yes, this, also!) Too bad: It detracts from a really compelling character study and some fine performances by virtually every cast member, including Damon, Scott Bakula, and that "Talk Soup" guy, Joe McHale.
That Hamilton Woman (1941): Winston Churchill reportedly saw this heavily embellished weepie about Lord Nelson (Laurence Olivier) and his striking mistress, Lady Hamilton (Vivien Leigh), more than 80 times. Must have been on Betamax.
The closing line, ostensibly written by Walter Reisch or playwright R. C. Sheriff, is a kicker.
The Long Goodbye (1973): Robert Altman's take on film noir and Raymond Chandler, with all the signature amorphousness of a Robert Altman movie. Chandler's story from the 1950s, however, takes place in the 70s—with Elliott Gould, perpetually suited and chain-smoking, as the throwback PI Philip Marlowe in sunny, EST-loving Los Angeles.
Altman's love of overlapping dialogue, extraneous audio, and distracting visuals is in full bloom, as Marlowe investigates the apparent suicide of a buddy whose wife was just murdered. Renowned DP Vilmos Zsigmond (Close Encounters of the Third Kind) effectively contrasts dark, cool interiors with blinding beachscapes in numerous single shots, and underachiever John Williams takes partial credit for the title song, which is heard repeatedly in various incarnations—like torch cabaret, uptempo jazz, and Mexican funeral march.
Featuring Sterling Hayden, Henry Gibson, and a mute Governator in an uncredited bit role.
Accepting the KBF duty this week is KTG. Take it away, KTG.
Franklyn (2008): Go for the otherwordly cover art. Stay for the 4 seemingly disconnected storylines that eventually form a tidy, if slightly blood-spattered, bow.
This Brindie (that's Brit-indie) features Ryan Phillippe as a steampunk vigilante, Bernard Hill as a tormented father, and Eva Green* as a suicidal performance artist. Put that in your rolled-up, overwrought screenplay and smoke it. Meanwhile Sam Riley plays a jilted lover who stumbles into the middle of...things.
* You remember her as the Bond girl in Casino Royale (2006).
