Movie Roundup: (5) Death at a Funeral & (6) Moon

Movie #5: Death at a Funeral (2007---on DVD)

British people, a funeral, a corpse, a gay midget, a nude man on the roof. Blend it together, sprinkle with a dash of comedy of manners, and you get a fairly typical British farce, one replete with slamming doors, falling coffins and bad teeth. Death at a Funeral isn't a bad film by any means, but originality is not its strong suit. It's what I like to call a "slight" comedy, a film that's easily digested, has one or two big laughs, and then is out of your memory as quickly as it entered. You've probably seen similar films before, and they've probably been as good or better. Interestingly, it's the American actors which shine in this British-made film. Alan Tudyk (Firefly) of Plano, Texas is hilarious as an uptight Brit who accidentally gets a quadruple dose of hallucinogenic drugs on the way to the funeral. His story reminded me of HBO's Six Feet Under, in which some of the best scenes always involved people high on drugs trying to maintain some semblance of sanity during formal dinners of funerals. It's gimme schtick, but it works and works well. Peter Dinklage also excels as the aforementioned gay midget. Dinklage is virtually flawless in every film he appears in and brings a quiet dignity to roles which, let's face it, are not exactly scripted as overly dignified. It's a credit to his immense talent. Death at a Funeral is breezy, fun fare, but if you need to write a review of it, you better take notes. You won't remember one bit of it.

Rating: 5/10


Movie #6: Moon (2009---on DVD)



Of all the Oscar nomination snubs this year, none stands out more than the unrecognized performance of Sam Rockwell in Moon. Playing multiple versions of himself and, essentially playing the only character in the movie, the emotional and dramatic weight of Moon is squarely on Rockwell's shoulders. He delivers. Moon is a throwback science fiction movie with obvious nods to films like Silent Running, 2001, and Outland---all favorites of mine. Even the remarkable (for the money) special effects are heavy on throwback techniques such as the use of life-like miniatures. With a budget of just over $5 million, first-time director (and screenwriter) Duncan Jones impresses on all levels. It's hard to discuss Moon without giving away some of its well-kept secrets, so I'll just say that Sam Rockwell plays a man nearing the end of a three-year mining contract on the moon. Anxious to return home to his wife and daughter, he's all alone up there, save for the companionship of a Hal-like robot voiced by Kevin Spacey. It's my experience that the better the movie, the less I want to talk about it, and that's the case here. Just see it. If you're even a causal fan of sci-fi, this should move to the top of your queue. It's one of the best films of last year, and Rockwell gives, perhaps, the year's finest performance.

Rating: 9/10

Friday Night Video

Still falling down on the job with this blog, but let's slap something up here to try and regain some momentum, shall we? This week I have yet another Brooklyn-based musician to present to you, and this week he happens to be a friend of mine.

I met Josh Garrett-Davis about four years ago when he used to work in my department at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Now he's a freelance writer and editor and also performs (very occasionally) as a solo folk guitar musician. He's also the front-man for the Krylls, an industrial-strength metal-punk band. Watch the video below and then try to imagine him wearing a gas mask on stage while screaming out barely intelligible lyrics. It's hard to imagine, but the dude can roll hard. I much prefer his folk stylings, however, and the song below, Blue Scare, is a clever and bittersweet combination of the 1950's Joseph McCarthy Red Scare era with contemporary heartache.

I don't think Josh would take great umbrage if I say he's not the greatest guitar player, doesn't have the greatest voice, and that sometimes his lyrics can go off the rails. That said, I've seen Josh perform live about a half dozen times now and his shows are damn entertaining. He's one of the smartest people I know and his lyrics often reflect this intelligence. He's also one of the most sincere people I know, and that sincerity is on full display in Blue Scare. I love this song.

Blue Scare from michael beach nichols on Vimeo.

Oh, right. This thing.

It's been a little over two weeks since I last wrote something for this blog, an absence I attribute to various reasons---listed below in no particular order:

* I was vacationing in Jamaica for five days.
* There was laundry to do.

* I was breaking the heart of a Penthouse Pet (story for another day, kids).
* I had nothing worth saying.

I still don't have much to say, but I will struggle past that obstacle and spit out a story I like to call, "The Curious Case of the Jamaican Jerk Sauce."

One of the most enduring stereotypes of Jamaica is that it's a weed-loving country where people walk around from morning until night with blunts dangling from their mouths...usually as they play soccer and listen to Bob Marley. This was mostly true. While pot is illegal in Jamaica, it didn't stop the local population from furtively (and not so furtively) offering me "smoke" twice within 15 minutes of clearing customs in Montego Bay. By week's end I had been offered pot just shy of a dozen times. None of this seemed unusual at the time or in retrospect. What was unusual was the transaction that went down on the evening before my return to New York.

The resort I stayed at had a basketball court which Rich (travel bud) and myself availed ourselves of on several of the days there. The court was somewhat out of the way and, except for a kid from the Bronx which Rich schooled with little to no effort (niiiiice), nobody else ever visited the courts. Our last night there, despite a lengthy list of bumps, bruises and abrasions incurred from the week's (unexpectedly) physical activities, we decided to go head-to-head one more time. Rich ended up winning the game 21-14, but this was definitely a moral victory for me. My strategy of backing into the lane, dribbling in place for 30-45 seconds, and then jumping backwards with a wild bank shot worked with alarming success. While I would like to credit my natural athletic gifts for the closer-than-expected final result, I think Rich had been distracted by our mid-game encounter with The Bacon Chef.

About half way through our marathon game of futility, we noticed a man slowly approaching us from the distance. He seemed to be a worker at the resort and his slow, careful movements suggested he was about to offer us drugs. As is typical in these situations, the affable man inquired about our vacation and engaged in a little chit-chat. Then he asked, "How do you like the food?" "It's good. Very good." we replied. His eyes lit up and he proudly announced he was The Bacon Chef. For a good while we thought he meant The Baking Chef...but we've since elected to go with Bacon. "What was the best thing you ate so far?" he inquired. The answer to this question was pivotal. I'd be fascinated to know what would have happened next had we answered something like, "the bacon" or "the soft serve ice cream" or the "pineapple tempura." But no. We answered..."the jerk chicken from last night was awesome." Having fallen into his trap, he smiled. "The jerk sauce here is THE best sauce. You can't get that anywhere else. Nobody else knows how to make it." Rich and I look at each other. This was the strangest drug dealer ever.

"You guys want some jerk sauce to take home? Not the diluted stuff. The real stuff." Was he really going to sell us illegal jerk sauce? Yes. Yes, he was. Rich, perhaps because of his Cajun background, was far more interested in this transaction than I was, and thus fanned the flames. After Rich said he was interested in procuring some, The Bacon Chef said, "Wait here. I'm going to get you a sample. You'll see. You've never had anything like it." Off he went, and back to the game Rich and I went. Sure enough, about 10 minutes later, The Bacon Chef returned with a plastic cup of jerk sauce. Rich and I both sampled it and, true to his word, it was the best jerk sauce I've ever had---a little sweet, but definitely with a strong kick. It was good enough to drink. "How much for a bottle?" Rich asked. The Bacon Chef seemed as though he was making it up on the fly when he declared he had two sizes. Rich opted for the smaller bottle which was going to cost him $20. Always a victim of peer pressure and never able to say no to a salesman, I, too, agreed to buy a bottle of said jerk sauce.

"Okay, here's how it's going to work," our sauce dealer informed us. "You give me half the money now, and half the money tomorrow when you get the sauce." Rich and I glanced at each other and shared the exact same thought: we were never going to see this money or the jerk sauce again. "I'll call your room tomorrow and let you know where to meet me." Now resigned to the fact that this was a charitable donation to the local population, we rummaged through our pockets for money. "We only have $13," Rich said. "I'll take it," said the grabby Bacon Chef. We gave him our money, received some vague instructions, and off he went. We resumed our game and Rich, no doubt troubled by the prospect of not getting the jerk sauce he so desperately wanted, proceeded to let me go on an Eduardo Najera-like scoring binge.

At the game's conclusion we walked back toward the resort area and encountered the dealer for yet a third time. "I work from 3:00am to 12pm. What time should I call your room?" "Not at 3:00am," Rich quickly replied. "Call at 8:30am," I said. "Rich, will answer." We gave him our room number, he left, and then we took odds on whether he would actually call. Because I was dutifully sleeping in the next morning, the rest of this story is a secondhand account as relayed to me from Rich. Sure enough, just before 8:30am, the phone call comes. Rich is given specific instructions to "ask for The Bacon Chef" at the Negril Buffet. Rich arrives at the buffet and, after an awkward encounter with the hostess who kept trying to seat him, he explains that he's looking for The Bacon Chef. She signals to someone with a walkie talkie who then radios to the back for The Bacon Chef. Out he comes and, in an exchange not unlike those on The Wire, cash is rapidly exchanged for two bottles of illegal jerk sauce.

Rich returns to the room---by which point I'm up and awaiting the results of his deal. He had already opened his bottle and was drinking from it, but sure enough he had the shit. And it was gooooood:



Needless to say, I came home from Jamaica and bought eight pounds of chicken.

Movie Roundup: (3) Away We Go & (4) Push

Movie #3: Away We Go (2009---on DVD)

Directed by Sam Mendes and scripted by Dave Eggers, the indie road comedy Away We Go boasts an impressive enough pedigree, but one that doesn't quite realize its full potential. The story is simple enough---a young 30-something couple, played with realistic chemistry by The Office's John Krasinsky and Saturday Night Live's Maya Rudolph---set off on a trip to locate the home in which they will raise their forthcoming child. Like any road comedy, they come across a variety of kooky characters that create equally kooky situations. While these encounters do have their funny moments, by and large the supporting cast is way, WAY over the top. This isn't a problem if you're making a movie like Road Trip, but it is a problem if you're making a movie which also wants to be taken seriously...which Away We Go most definitely does. While I love actresses Allison Janney, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Catherine O'Hara, their scenery-eating performances just don't mesh with the sweet, understated (by comparison) comedic interactions of our two leads. The movie works best when they encounter more realistic characters to help reflect their own anxieties and insecurities---such as Rudolph's character's sister, and their old college friends who now live in Canada and raise a family of adopted children. For all of the jokes and bits that don't work in Away We Go, however, there are plenty that do. Krasinsky has an affable, deft comedic touch, and Rudolph is a true revelation here. Away We Go is not all that it could have been, but it's enough to recommend.

Rating: 7/10


Movie #4: Push (2009---on DVD)

Filmed entirely in Hong Kong, a location that lends itself to some truly beautiful cinematography here, Push begins strongly enough on the basis of its interesting premise, but the early momentum rapidly dissipates with the introduction of a weak love story, and with a narrative that's never really explained to satisfaction. The world of Push is populated by a variety of characters with various paranormal talents. There are Pushers---who can push thoughts on to other people; there are Sniffers---who can track people's scents from halfway across the globe; there are Watchers---who can foresee the future; there are Movers---who can, yes, move stuff with their mind...and a variety of other character-types that succeed in creating a fertile backdrop for what could have been a solid action movie. While some scenes do evoke a thrill, most are flat or downright silly. One battle has a clever premise in which two Movers square off in a restaurant. Using their minds, they both levitate pistols as they seek out and try to shoot each other. It's a cool idea, but seeing handguns float in the air reminded me of the special effects in Memoirs of an Invisible Man. It's hard not to laugh. The acting in Push isn't bad---Chris Evans and Dakota Fanning have solid rapport---but they're not given much to work with. Push isn't quite as bad as some critics made it out to be, but it definitely fails to deliver on its immense potential.

Rating: 5/10

Friday Night Video

A little over a week ago, at the same Haiti benefit concert where I had the good fortune to discover last week's Friday Night Video performer (Freelance Whales), Eugene Mirman, the very funny emcee for the evening, surprised the audience with an announcement of a very special guest...Neil Young! Out walked Young, donning his usual duds, his hat pulled down low. He grabbed a stool and started playing.



That, of course, was not Neil Young...but rather Jimmy Fallon doing a dead-on impression of what Will Smith's "The Prince of Bel Air" might sound like if Neil Young got a hold of it. Here's a second video of that performance---abbreviated, but a bit closer to the stage.



Evidently, the Neil Young character Fallon is doing these days is not a one-song gag. He's also performed a Neil Young version of "Pants on the Ground." Fallon was definitely one of the many highlights of the benefit show I attended. CLEARLY.

Trailer Tuesday

This is a day late, for which I will gladly blame the 2-hour premiere of Lost. You would think I might make it up to you by both a) showing you a good movie trailer, and b) writing a fresh and witty premable to it. You get neither. What you get is a crappy trailer with a crappier introduction from guest blogger Scott Schlossberg. Take it down and away, Scott...
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Repo Men imagines a not-too-distant future where artificial replacements are available for your failing organs, at grossly inflated prices. But if you miss a payment, the company sends Jude Law and Forest Whitaker to take back the organ. And none too gently. When Law’s character has to have an artificial heart installed and becomes a target for the repo men, wacky hijinks ensue.

It’s a clever premise. Insurance companies already cut off cancer patients in the middle of chemotherapy. It’s not a huge stretch to imagine companies killing people outright for not keeping up with the payments. But clever premises don’t always make good movies (just see District 9…Best picture? Really? Bleh.).
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Ed Note: Scott, you blew it. If anyone else wants to audition for the role of guest blogger, do let me know...but please, please...bring more to the table than Scott.

Movie Roundup: (1) Semi-Pro & (2) Avatar

One of the things I'd planned to do with this blog in 2010 was to resume tracking all the movies I watched, both in theaters and on DVD, and to give little mini-reviews of them. Needless to say, that's not yet happened. As luck would have it, however, I saw fewer movies in the month of January than perhaps in any other month of my life---save for the month of Jewish summer camp in which the ONE movie night consisted of the classic If You Could See What I Hear...starring the Beastmaster himself, Marc Singer. Sadly, I couldn't even count that movie as I'd already seen it at least three times prior to that muggy night in Bruceville, Texas. The point is that, even though January has come and gone without a movie review, it's not too late to catch up...and the catching up begins right now.

Movie #1: Semi-Pro (2008---on DVD)

Being a Will Ferrell movie there are certainly a fair number of laughs to be had in Semi-Pro, but the final product is under-written and one that rather transparently expected to succeed on the basis of its principal star (which it almost does). The premise is solid, and setting it in the old ABA in the blue collar town of Flint, Michigan is one that could have yielded a few meaningful scenes, especially in light of how economically depressed Flint would become in later years---but this background is completely ignored. The team could have been playing in any small city in America. Flint is not a character, and that's a mistake. Outside of Ferrell doing his best with weak material, the rest of the cast is mostly unfunny. Semi-Pro isn't a "bad" movie, it's just a lazy comedy...one that knows it can make you laugh simply by putting Ferrell in front of the camera with an afro-wig on. That pisses me off. But I still laughed. And that pisses me off more.

Rating: 6/10


Movie #2: Avatar (2009---in theatre)

The all-time top grossing film (if not adjusted for inflation) is one that, like Cameron's previous blockbuster, Titanic, has generated a wide range of opinions. I saw it with my friend Brian in 3-D IMAX and we emerged from the film with two very different takes. While I was not willing to bestow upon it the lofty accolades so many critics had readily done, I did find it an entertaining ride that was, at times, thrilling, moving and eye-popping. Brian, on the other hand, gave it a 1/2 star review and faulted practically every aspect of the movie. In the month since I've seen it, it has certainly diminished in my eyes somewhat. It's too long. The villain is too over-the-top. It's awkward in its racial allegory. And, despite the outrageous hype about the digital animation, these are still quite clearly fake creatures created on a computer. But strip away the hype, the controversies, and the ridiculous post-movie stories about people being depressed they're not living on the planet of Pandora, and what you're left with is an entertaining, albeit flawed flick. No need to over think it. It doesn't deserve all the money it's made, and it won't deserve all the Oscar attention it's likely to get tomorrow morning, but that's no reason to backlash against it. It is what it is.

Rating: 7/10