Cinema Hype

As usual, the rules: The first person to comment with the character, actor, and movie that contains this quotation gets a special eyelash batting and a tailor-made Cinema Hype cheer, which might actually rhyme, even if it doesn’t make any sense.

“‘Don’t shut YOUR eyes!’
‘Sorry; I’m just a little nervous!’
‘YOU’RE nervous? An 11 year-old is cutting my hair!’”

Also, I realized this morning that I still owe someone a cheer:

Jennifer proved her status as a klassy dame by knowing that QS#31 came from Reno 911!, which is pretty brilliant if you ask me. So, in her honor, a few choice lines:

Guess who knows her quick retorts?
Even with those little short shorts?
Jennifer, Jennifer, YEAH!

*insert high kick here*

Nicely done and thanks for playing, Jennifer!

Noir is as noir does;
Owen and Miller try to
out-gritty us all.

What could be cooler than a series of adaptations of Raymond Chandler’s classic detective novels, starring Clive Owen? How about a series of adaptatios of Raymond Chandler’s classic detective novels, starring Clive Owen and directed by Frank Miller, minor deity of all things noir?

This….could be good.

CH will be offline next week for a staff retreat–known in these parts as “vacation”–in England. As I plan my trip, I realize how much of my own mental map of England–and London in particular–comes from movies I’ve seen over the years. It’s a strange kind of geography that I’ve cobbled together: there’s that bridge that Renee Zellweger walks across each morning in Bridget Jones’s Diary; Lindsay Lohan (back in the wonder years of her youth, like the 90s) bouncing across Abbey Road in The Parent Trap; the airport suburb of Hounslow in Bend It Like Beckham. I’m staying near Portobello Road and Notting Hill Gate, and I realized this morning that in my mind, my hotel’s got to be near Hugh Grant’s house with the blue door.

And those are just the modern movies; don’t even get me started on the period pieces. And leave Harry Potter out of it, will you?

Am I surprised? Should I be? Movies are–so far–my best visual reference for England, other than the times I’ve flown over it on the way in and out of Europe. For me, it’s always sunny in the park (like in About A Boy) and always snowing in the streets at night, where I’ll probably be waiting for a geek-brawl to break out and interrupt a Greek birthday party. I’m sure when I come back, my mind will see the sights through the filter of my own time there, but until then I’m sort of at the mercy of Working Title Films.

Strange.

travel, movies, England

So, it looks like The Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer took first place at the box office this weekend.

The thing is, I didn’t realize the first Fantastic Four movie had done all that well. Like, didn’t it kind of flop, because Jessica Alba’s admitted hotness isn’t enough to sell more than a weekend’s worth of movie tickets? Or am I just in the wrong demographic (read: female)?

Am I wrong, here?

Fantastic Four, Rise of the Silver Surfer, Jessica Alba, movies

1. Music and Lyrics falls under the same category as You’ve Got Mail: so-so films that worm their way into my heart by virtue of sheer quotability and repeated viewing. Mark my words: my DVD shelf feels perfectly complete without it for the time being, but give me a few more late-night watchings and a couple of well-timed quotations, and I’ll be scouring the under-$10 shelf at Target.

2. It pleases me that Hugh Grant has been able to cut his hair and move on. I miss the William Thacker and Daniel Cleaver phases–the halcyon days of Grant’s attractiveness–as much as any girl, but the fact is that he just isn’t as good-looking as he once was. But he’s taken Meg Ryan’s personal identity crisis to heart, avoided the Botox, gone all Emma-Thompson spiky, and gotten it over with. He didn’t make a big deal of it, and it worked out: he’s Romantic Lead, v.2.0. Well played, Hugh.

3. That said, Romantic Lead v.2.0 has decidedly less chemistry than the original, or maybe he just didn’t hit it off with poor Drew. (Or Sandra.)

4. Kristen Johnston! Why isn’t Kristen Johnston more famous? She is a funny, funny woman who will break you in half if you tell her otherwise. Rock on, Kristen.

5. If I ever write a song, it will contain a hand motion. You may all hold me to this.

Music and Lyrics, Hugh Grant, Drew Barrymore, DVD reviews

Doesn’t it seem like it’s been awhile since we had a truly macabre (or even semi-macabre) cartoon movie? Maybe it’s the wrong time of year–summer isn’t the season for explorations of youth and death. Maybe they’re waiting for the CH Totally Un-Scary Halloween Film Festival to roll around again. Maybe it’s just that Tim Burton is too wrapped up in Sweeney Todd to do anything else. Who knows?

But I’m sensing good things in the works with 2008’s Coraline, a stop-motion cartoon based on the Neil Gaiman short story of the same name–a little girl walks into a parallel version of her own life, with an Other Mother and all of the things she thinks she wants. Sounds good, right? Yes, it’s got Dakota Fanning–as the voice of Coraline herself–but it also stars John Hodgman, Daily Show Resident Expert, in his first film role, which is good enough for me. Neil Gaiman, John Hodgman, and an interesting story for children? Sounds like a good combination.

We here at CHHQ are big Alan Tudyk fans. What’s not to love? He sings. He does accents. He fills out a Hawaiian shirt nicely, and he makes playing with toy dinosaurs seem like a reasonable thing to do. He kind of looks like Steve Zahn and enjoys the same kind of fame–most people don’t seek him out, but he’s never a letdown. Alan Tudyk is like the Isla de Muerta: you probably only find him if you already know who he is.

Which is why we’re pleased to see him with a big role in a reasonably big movie this summer, Death at a Funeral. Because shouldn’t more people be in on the secret? It’s not like he’s hard to find–from Patch Adams to Knocked Up, he spends a lot of time supporting a lot of different actors. He’s seems to do “Quirky German” well. Also “Institutionalized/Quiet But Troubled.” He does a lot of things well, actually. And we think it’s high time somebody not wearing a brown coat sat up and took notice.

I’m not sure I’m prepared for summer this year. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Am I looking forward to the movie rush? I am. Was the Oscars-to-Memorial Day slog particularly grim this year? It was. Things certainly are looking better these days than, say, that long stretch when the only choices at the theater were 300 and Saw: Whatever They’re On These Days. I’m just saying that there are a lot of exciting movies coming out before Labor Day, and I’m not sure I have all of my ducks in a row.

I mean, I’m already late on Knocked Up and Ocean’s 13. I’m going to be out of the country for the release of Evan Almighty. And that’s not even taking into account Transformers, Death at a Funeral, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Hairspray, The Simpsons Movie, The Bourne Ultimatum, and the other twenty-five movies likely to spring up and surprise me. They just keep coming! Like lemmings to the sea, I tell you!

Still, I think this is a good problem to have.

Knocked Up, Ocean’s 13, Transformers, Death at a Funeral, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, The Simpsons Movie, The Bourne Ultimatum, summer movies

If you’ve been to the theater lately, and you’re the kind of person who doesn’t miss the previews–not that anybody I know would miss the previews–you probably know that Pixar has a new movie coming out this month. Now, computer animation isn’t the novelty it once was–there’s Toy Story, but there’s also Shrek and Over the Hedge and Surf’s Up. They’re certainly not alone in their field. But there’s something about Pixar: they were the first, and their movies still feel like they operate on a higher plane than whatever the other studios put out. It’s a beautiful thing, a new Pixar movie.

Maybe I’m biased. Where I live, Pixar is Kind of A Big Deal–their campus inhabits a good-sized chunk of physical and psychic space in the town where I work. The stories about the perks and shenanigans of working there–ranging from confirmed true to total head-scratchers–could fill a small encyclopedia, and everybody, at some time, has eaten lunch at Semifreddi’s cafe, only to steal a peek through the green semi-opaque fence at the Pixar grounds (No lie: once, there seemed to be some kind of enormous picnic going on, and a helicopter landed in the middle. Clearly, I work in the wrong office.).

But I really do enjoy Pixar’s movies. My favorite, though it seems to have gone out of style, is Toy Story 2–consistently wittier than the original, and without the creepy villain kid. I’m also fond of The Incredibles, which cracks me up and makes me cry AND has Sarah Vowell, which can only be a good thing.

So, readers, tell me. They’ve been around awhile now, long enough to have a long-ish filmography. What’s your favorite Pixar film, and why?

As usual, the rules: The first person to comment with the character, actor, and movie that contains this quotation gets a special eyelash batting and a tailor-made Cinema Hype cheer, which might actually rhyme, even if it doesn’t make any sense.

“‘Does anybody have any ideas?’
‘What about… a phone… you can smell through?’”

Good luck! (This one’s kind of hard. There may be a hint later in the week.)

How many flicks can
a chick critic pick if a
critic picks chick flicks?

True story: I was thinking this evening how nice it might be to curl up with Pride and Prejudice* for awhile before bed, but also how perhaps watching the same movie over and over is actually kind of weird (unless you’re under the age of seven and want to watch The Karate Kid every day after school, like my best friend). And then I thought, “Well, you could always watch the other version.”

Yes. I have more than one version of Pride and Prejudice in the house. You want to make something of it?

*CH staff will be taking a week’s vacation in England later this month; one imagines the British fixation might fade with time, but until then….it’s all about the Shires. Consider yourself warned.

Thank goodness for IMDB: I was linking to British director Gurinder Chadha last night and saw that she’s signed up to direct an adaptation of Louise Rennison’s totally hilarious young-adult novel Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging. ATFFS–as we insiders call it–is the kind of book that could easily lose its soul in the Hollywood grindhouse; it’s a smart, funny look at adolescent girlhood, and we at CH are a little afraid that it might get the Nancy Drew blandification treatment. It’ll take a strong, genuine voice to keep the story and the humor on track. But Chadha, who has won our undying love and respect with the climax sequence of Bend It Like Beckham, is surely the right woman for the job.

Plus, she’ll teach you to make aloo ghobi if you watch her DVD. We can’t argue with that.

I’ve been watching Pride and Prejudice this week. It’s part of my Keira Knightley film festival, but I’ve gotten stuck. You see, I have Domino sitting next to the DVD player, ready to go. But have I moved on? I have not.

And I need to confess something: when the movie came out–a mere two years ago!–I was a Pride and Prejudice snob. I had, along with many others, attached myself to the Mother of All Pride and Prejudice Adaptations, the six-hour BBC miniseries that launched a thousand Colin Firth wet-shirt fantasies. After all, how could they re-adapt the great Pride and Prejudice? After less than a decade? Who would have the gall to follow that stunning, encyclopedic act?

But what I’ve found is that, for better or for worse, I have a hard time saying no to Elizabeth Bennet, her embarrassing family, and her emotional duel/love affair with Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. The 2005 version isn’t the most complete, and it’s not the most serious, but it hits all the high points (with some glorious cinematography, I might add), and somehow that seems to be all I need. And so, for all of the P&P fans and P&P fans-to-be, I present a comprehensive history of Pride and Prejudice on film.

Pride and Prejudice (1938): The original Austen mini-series, adapted even before the big-screen crowd got a hold of it. Starring a woman called Curigwen, who was surely destined for great fame until her parents stepped in and chose a name.

Pride and Prejudice (1940): Before there was Firth, there was Olivier, who can only have been fabulous opposite Greer Garson. Probably the only time Jane Austen and Aldous Huxley share writing credit on anything.

Pride and Prejudice (1952): Of absolutely no note except that Mr. Darcy is played by the utterly fantastic Peter Cushing! I had no idea! Imagine: Grand Moff Tarken, being an ardent admirer! The mind, it boggles! So many exclamation points! But worth every one of them!

Pride and Prejudice (1958) and (1967): Probably fine adaptations, but lacking in weird, famous screenwriters or any kind of famous cast. The age of the mini-series before HBO, apparently.

Pride and Prejudice (1980): The predecessor to the current BBC version. There’s not a single recognizable name (or photographic IMDB entry) in the cast, but I know at least one person who loves this version. Worth a look, ostensibly.

Pride and Prejudice (1995): I think we all know how I feel about this one. Need I go on?

And then there are the P&P knock-offs: the references, the similar-tos, and the updated versions.

Bridget Jones’s Diary: Wherein The Firth reprises his role and gets into the best nerd-brawl ever to grace the big screen, and Mr. Wickham is a tangerine-tinted buffoon. Highly recommended.

Pride and Prejudice (2003): How did I miss this the first time around? (Not to be snotty, or anything, but: Good sense, perhaps?) Pride and Prejudice in present-day America. Hmmm.

Bride and Prejudice: The Bennets go Bollywood! This one hasn’t made its way to CHHQ yet, but it’s apparently pretty good. And Sayid from LOST (Naveen Andrews) plays Mr. Bingley, so how bad can it be? Also, random appearances by Ashanti–the mark of a fine film, I always say–and Alexis Bledel as Georgiana Darcy. Oh! And Gurinder Chadha directed, and she’s all-around excellent. So good things all around.

That’s all. If you need me, I’ll be on the couch, waiting for the big rejection scene. PAIN!

I have never gotten along well with my local paper’s regular film critic. Mick LaSalleSan Francisco Chronicle has a fine background in media criticism, I’m sure, but he and I have a little bit we do, and it goes like this: I read his review. I see the movie. I come out of the movie thinking, “What movie did he see?” It’s a thing. You should see it. We’ve really perfected our timing, I think.

Recently, good old Mick called the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy the worst film series ever. Now, I take issue with that statement for a number of reasons. First of all, I think his arguments–chiefly “there’s too much plot; I can’t follow all these stories!”–are incorrect, but that’s not important. What I really mean to say is: Ever? Ever, EVER? Surely we can come up with something worse in the history of the motion pictures than Orlando Bloom cavorting around with flowy sleeves (which is worth the price of admission in itself, I say, but, again: not important). Do I need to bring up the Baby Geniuses sequel incident? What about the Beethoven series, with David Duchovny as the evil…dognapper, I believe?

So, readers, here’s what I want to know: if we’re knocking the Pirates movies out of consideration for the Reign of Suck (and I believe we are; correct me if I’m wrong in saying that Police Academy has a stronger claim to the throne), what should be considered the worst film series of all time?

(Also, he admits he doesn’t like Star Wars, which I believe cements our non-friendship.)

As usual, the rules: The first person to comment with the character, actor, and movie that contains that quote gets a special eyelash batting and a tailor-made Cinema Hype cheer, which might even rhyme even if it doesn’t make any sense.

“‘What are you doing?’
‘Guys, what would you wish you’d done before you died?’
‘Paint a self-portrait.’
‘Build a house.’
‘And you?’
‘I don’t know. Turn the wheel now, come on!’
‘You have to know the answer to this question! If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?’
‘I don’t know, I wouldn’t feel anything good about my life, is that what you want to hear me say? Fine. Come on!’
‘Not good enough.’”