Our Idiot Brother (4/5 Stars)

Good writing and nice people: A typical Paul Rudd comedy

The majority of comedies are about mean and obnoxious people. The idea being that gleeful and aggressive shocks of violence and rude behavior elicit laughs. And they do. Quite a lot of these movies are very funny. But every once in a while it is a pleasure to see a comedy take the opposite route and have the running joke be that the characters are too trusting, lovable, and sweet. Or in Ned’s case (played by the funniest nice guy in movies, Paul Rudd) all those characteristics to an idiotic degree.

What a good and compassionate heart Ned has. In the first scene we see him happily running a biodynamic vegetable stall at the local farmer’s market. He charges fair prices and lets little kids steal strawberries with a smile. A uniformed cop walks up to him and asks for marijuana. Ned is hesitant. The cop confides in Ned that it’s been a really rough week for him. Ned, ever so trusting and empathetic, decides to give him a bag of marijuana on the house. No, the cop insists, he wants to pay for it. Ned relents and gives a price that must be a rather large discount for that amount of marijuana. The cop pays and informs Ned that he is being arrested for selling drugs. It takes Ned awhile to realize that the nice cop had been lying to him all along.

Ned is thrown in prison for eight months and is released four months early for being “Most Cooperative Inmate” three months straight. Outside he finds that he has lost his job, his girlfriend, his place to live, and his much loved dog, Willie Nelson. The way he handles all this would make Socrates, Thoreau, and Jeffrey Lebowski very proud. He even makes dudely peace with his girlfriend’s new boyfriend, played here by the very funny T.J. Miller. He drops by his mother’s house where there are still family dinners routinely held. Around the table are his three sisters. One is Emily Mortimer, a wife and mother to an oily Steve Coogan and ten-year-old Dillon respectively. Another is Elizabeth Banks, a hard-working journalist on the verge of a career-making story. Finally there is Zooey Deschanel, a stand-up comedian currently engaged to Rashida Jones, a hipster lawyer with a must-mention sense of style. This is a very good cast. Most of them have worked together before and it has a way of showing. Elizabeth Banks was Rudd’s opposite in “Role Models” and Rashida Jones was Rudd’s opposite in “I Love You, Man.” Those movies too were very nice and funny comedies about good people. You can put this one up there with them. Good writing and nice people. I think it can be said that Paul Rudd is developing a solid reputation for these types of movies.

From there on, Ned couch surfs from home to home causing problems with his honesty and humility. Generally speaking, the problem already exists but Ned has a way of bringing them out in the open because of how his compassion and empathy (which makes him very easy to confide in) combines with his complete inability to tell a lie and childlike belief that the truth brings out the best in people. People tell him things he shouldn’t hear and he shares things to others he isn’t supposed to tell. Soon Emily’s marriage to Steve Coogan is on the rocks (as it should be because the guy is no good), Elizabeth’s career is put in danger (as it should be because her employers are telling her to do shady things), and Zooey’s relationship with Rashida is endangered (as it should be because Zooey has a bad habit of infidelity). All of this happens because of “our idiot brother.”

The first half of the movie is enjoyable but there were very few laughs. The movie did pick up steam, however, as it went along and by the end the laughs were big and numerous. The characters in general are so likable that laughing becomes a very easy reaction to indulge in. I especially liked the raid on the organic farm by Ned and Rashida Jones to steal back Willie Nelson. It goes bad almost immediately and they don’t get the dog back, but T.J. Miller is a really cool dude about the midnight trespassing and all. He even goes so far as to sort of apologize for not giving Ned the right information for when him and the girlfriend would be out of town to see a Dixie Chicks concert. “Next Thursday” apparently in Miller’s mind means every Thursday down the road that isn’t “this Thursday.” Ned kindly informs him that for future reference he should say “Next Next Thursday” if he means the Thursday after next. Sorry Dude, my bad. That’s totally okay, Dude, sorry for the trespassing. The movie did miss an opportunity in its underutilization of Zooey Deschanel though. This is an actress I have seen being truly hilarious before (The Good Girl, (500) Days of Summer). In this movie she plays a stand-up comedian. It would have been funny if she had a decent act that made people laugh or something.

Is Ned truly an idiot? The sisters treat Ned with that special kind of passive aggressive disdain women reserve for honest and humble men. Ned isn’t really an adult in their eyes. Ned tolerates this not only because he has to in that he is sleeping on their couches but also because he loves his family and understands their various problems. There is a very telling scene where Ned finally gets angry. Here is a man who was unjustly sent to prison via an act of compassion, lost his job, his home, his girlfriend, and essentially the respect and dignity in the eyes of his family. Does this make him bitter? No, he is still a good person, tries to do better, and spends much of the movie apologizing to those who are unfairly pissed off at him. What does he get angry about? He gets angry when on family night his sisters essentially ruin a game of charades. They break the rules, won’t have fun, and treat the concept of a family game as a stupid waste of time. It is easy to roll one’s eyes and claim that this is an idiotic thing to get angry about. Or one could perhaps reflect on their priorities in life.

One more thing, and I say this with but the expertise of a person who has seen an almost ridiculous amount of movies. Movies do not glamorize drugs, at least not the good ones. I have seen people drink themselves to death (Leaving Las Vegas), I have seen people ruin their lives with heroin (The Wire, Requiem for a Dream, Basketball Diaries), I have seen people make ridiculously bad decisions while on cocaine (Goodfelllas, Casino, Scarface, Boogie Nights, Bad Lieutenant). I have seen drug overdoses aplenty (Pulp Fiction, Traffic, Trainspotting, SLC Punk). Not once have I seen the movie where somebody smoked marijuana, became addicted, overdosed, or routinely went about their self-destruction. I think the worst I have seen was the case in Dave Chappelle’s Half Baked where one of the characters literally smoked himself retarded. True I have seen potheads that are lazy and stupid, but being lazy and stupid is not a crime and here is the point I want to make. We don’t need to be wasting the police’s time and the taxpayer’s money putting people like Ned behind prison bars. It has been argued that marijuana may lead to heavier drugs and more criminal behavior. You can say the same about losing your job, your girlfriend, and your home, which has a tendency to happen when someone gets thrown in prison. The problem isn’t being solved. Thank God that in this movie, Ned had a good family to fall back on. I think we must remember that there is a difference between behavior that is morally objectionable and behavior that is criminal. It can definitely be said that it would be better for the smoker or drinker to exercise prudence and refrain from intoxicants. But it must also be understood that indulging in mind-altering substances is a universal thing amongst human beings as a species. Basically every religion on the face of the planet has some kind of drug that they use in their functions or tolerate in society. It is a truth that people in general have rough weeks and look for a chance to escape every now and then. When this is made a crime, there will be a ludicrous amount of people behind bars that otherwise could be functioning productive citizens (ex. the United States of America). Drugs use is a very serious thing and those that are addictive, manipulative, and dangerous should be illegal. Marijuana is not one of those. If you would like to know exactly what it does, please read Michael Pollan’s “The Botany of Desire.” Of course, like anything else, marijuana may be abused. But that is a problem that should be dealt with by a family, a church, a support group, or a community. Using lawyers, courts, prisons, and parole officers to solve such a problem is akin to swatting flies with a baseball bat. You’re bound to cause far more damage than if you did nothing at all. 

Midnight in Paris (5/5 Stars)

How to be an intellectual without being annoying about it.

There are two men in this movie that know an awful lot about Paris. One is, Paul, played by Michael Sheen. He’s the type of guy who would interrupt a tour guide, played here by 1^st lady Carla Bruni of France, with the words, “If I’m not mistaken, Rodin’s the Thinker was influenced more by his mistress than his wife.” First of all, he does not think he is mistaken and so is already disingenuous. Second, he is a jerk for upstaging the tour guide just in order to show off. I don’t know who influenced Rodin, but if Paul is right than he needlessly embarrassed the tour guide by making such a scene. If he is wrong than he needlessly made a complete fool of himself. All present should be annoyed. Than there is Gil Pender, played by Owen Wilson. He too is an intellectual, but his smarts show not by self-aggrandizing posturing but by a knowing wonder for the town. He keeps on bugging everyone to walk with him in the rain because as he says, “Paris is so beautiful in the rain!” The great thing about Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris” is that it understands so well the difference between these two ways of being a know-it-all. There is a difference between an intellectual who goes, “Wow! I can’t believe we’re in the same bar that Hemingway drank at! Hemingway was so cool and he drank so much! We’re going to have an awesome time here drinking and talking about Hemingway!” As opposed to an intellectual who lectures, “If I’m not mistaken, this is where Hemingway drank. His “Farewell to Arms” was okay but I felt in “A Moveable Feast” he was not as sure of himself. Also he drank way too much. That’s why he killed himself. You people should revere me because I am so knowledgeable about where we are.” “Midnight in Paris,” shows a vast familiarity with the 1920’s Lost Generation of Paris. It name drops excessively both from the well-known and not so well known people and places of the time and even includes quite a bit of French and Spanish, none of it in subtitles. But the movie never feels or seems pretentious. This isn’t an Honors English lecture. It is an inclusive party with old friends and one of the most enjoyable movies of the year. 

Gil Pender is a Hollywood hack screenwriter. It is good money but spiritually unfulfilling. He has a dream of moving to Paris and working on his novel because, well, all his literary heroes hung out in Paris and wrote novels. He visits Paris with his materialistic fiancé Inez, played by Rachel McAdams. There they bump into her parents on a business trip. The father refuses to enjoy Paris for political reasons. They also meet the pseudo-intellectual, Paul, who likes to label everything as romantic/surrealists/pre-new wave/etc/etc. One night, Gil chooses to leave the group and walk around Paris for no real reason but to do it. At midnight, a 1920’s car filled to the brim with flappers from the Rolling Twenties pulls up next to him. Before he knows it, Gil finds himself at a party where Cole Porter is playing the piano. A woman named Zelda starts a conversation with him. She is the wife of a guy named Francis Scott Fitzgerald. Zelda asks Gil what he thinks of the party. The bewildered/excited out of his mind/awestruck Gil doesn’t know what to say. “I know,” Zelda says, “this place is boring. We’re going to a better party. Want to come with us?”

What a trip! Not only is Gil meeting all his heroes, but also all his heroes are exactly as he thought they would be. Even better, they like him and are interested in the novel he is working on. Ernest Hemingway won’t read it himself because he is of the firm belief that a writer will either hate another's work or be envious of it and hate it all the more. But Hemingway will show Gil the manuscript to the only editor he trusts, one Gertrude Stein, played by Kathy Bates. As Gil enters the studio of Gertrude Stein she is critiquing one of Picasso’s new paintings with Picasso present and adamantly defending himself. “Gil,” Stein asks, “what do you think of Pablo’s new work?” Imagine that. Being asked to critique Picasso to his face. Having Stein read your novel. Drinking with Hemingway. Gil Pender spends a majority of the movie in a state of ecstasy. Owen Wilson, perfectly cast even at 40 years old, conveys a perfect sense of child-like wonder. There is a great shot with Gil back in the 21^st century, wide-awake in his bed and whispering to nobody, “I saw Hemingway. Gertrude Stein is reading my novel. I’m Gil Pender. I’m from Pasadena.” What is really amazing is that this is a Woody Allen movie. Allen has done over forty movies now and there has been such a consistent strain of pessimism and nihilism in his work. That has completely evaporated here and in its stead is gorgeous scenery, great larger-than-life characters, sharp and clever dialogue, and a protagonist who couldn’t possibly be enjoying himself more than he already is.

Standing at about 90 minutes, this movie is also a great example of story efficiency. It takes about two minutes to introduce all the real-life people and their different attitudes towards Paris. It takes another five to introduce the idea of nostalgia and the cynical view that it is an erroneous romanticization of the past to assume that it was a better time than it is now (This theme comes up again ironically when one of the 1920’s artists suggests that the real golden age of Paris was in the 1890s.) The literary figures show up at all the right places in all the right times. I especially liked who Gil explains his perplexing situation as a man who spends the night in the 1920s and wakes up in 2010. He says this to some 1920s surrealists and they see nothing strange about his situation. Salvador Dali, played nicely by Adrien Brody, seems far more interested with his new favorite word “Rhinocerous!” There is also room for a budding romance between Gil and one of the art groupies named Adriana, played by Marion Cotillard. Overall the movie, like all good comedies, is not too long but contains quite a lot. It moves fast, is consistently funny, and very romantic. And don’t forget Paris. It looks as good as ever. 

Tabloid (4/5 Stars)

Tabloid (4/5 Stars)

“You know, you can always tell yourself that at least God knows the truth; and life would be easy enough if all you had to worry about everyday was God. But no, you also have to deal with people.”

-       Joyce McKinney, Former Miss USA contestant and alleged kidnapper/rapist of Kirk Anderson, a Mormon missionary

The closest you will get to the truth is an Errol Morris documentary. Well, that’s not exactly accurate. How about this? The most certain you will ever be that you are listening to a lie will be while watching an Errol Morris documentary. Perhaps there is an even better way to say that. When watching an Errol Morris documentary, it is possible if for only the briefest of moments to become aware of exactly what it is you don’t know. Morris deals in errors of certainty. He cast great doubts on the homicide conviction of Randall Adams in “The Thin Blue Line,” which resulted in the man's release from death row. He cast doubts on the supposed bad-apple-ness of the Abu Ghraib photographers in “Standard Operating Procedure.” He once even interviewed a Holocaust denier named Fred Leuchter Jr., in an aptly titled movie called “Mr. Death.” All of these movies had something in common. At some point, one of the interviewees with strange conviction spoke directly into the camera and flagrantly lied about something.

The bizarre tale of Joyce McKinney is no exception. Joyce made headlines as the beauty queen that travelled halfway across the world to rescue her one true love from a religious cult. She found him in London. He ditched his cult to go with her to Devonshire for three days of  “fun, food, and sex.” It was like a honeymoon. Well, that was what she claims. The police arrested her after the object of her desire, Kirk Anderson, a Mormon missionary, went to the police claiming that she had kidnapped him at gunpoint, brought him to a country cottage in Devonshire, and raped him continually for three days. Well, maybe. Joyce says the entire thing was consensual and the Mormons brainwashed Kirk after the fact. Or maybe as it is hinted, because a Mormon is supposed to be celibate during the mission, Kirk’s story was a convenient political fabrication of his own. Some things are not in dispute however. There was a cinnamon oil backrub. Joyce tied Kirk up at one point (with rope or handcuffs we do not know and either as sexual therapy or something else we do not know). Joyce took off Kirk’s magic Mormon underwear and burned them in the fireplace. And yes, they had plenty of sex. Joyce testified in court that the third time was more consensual than the first two, but insists quite fervently that it really is impossible for a woman to rape a man. “A man either wants to have sex or he doesn’t. That’s like putting a marshmallow into a parking meter,” she says with a laugh.

As if the truth couldn’t be more obscured, two British tabloids, the National Express and the Daily Mirror, got a hold of the story and did their best to further sensationalize it. The National Express bought Joyce’s exclusive story and sought to paint her in the most romantic and rosiest light possible. They published a photo of her dressed as a nun and made generous copy from quotes of hers like “I would ski down Mount Everest nude with a carnation up my nose to be with the man I love.” The Daily Mirror, being without the exclusive story, went the other and sent out a private detective to dig up dirt on Joyce. They found enough (I won’t give away what exactly) to fill a complete week’s worth of cover-to-cover tabloid, including plenty of nude pictures in let us say “role-playing” situations. The Express and the Mirror than essentially “fought” each other for the attention of the common Brit with dueling headlines of the same story telling vastly different versions of it. Two reporters, one from each paper, are interviewees here. Both are delightful chaps, but generally speaking, they are as concerned with the truth as tabloid reporters. (The man from the Express loves saying the word, “Spread-Eagled.” We don’t know if that actually happened though.) They do agree on one thing though: that Joyce McKinney is a crazy person and more importantly, a liar. Kirk Anderson, for his part, did not want to be interviewed for this documentary. In his stead is a gay ex-mormon who helpfully explains Mormon beliefs about sex. (They probably would not have approved/been terrified of Joyce McKinney.)

Joyce McKinney is most definitely a liar and perhaps crazy, but how and in what ways is not so clear. Errol Morris does a very keen thing by allowing Joyce to tell her side of the story before we get to hear everybody else’s. It is convincing. She speaks with eloquence and conviction and has logical arguments. At one point, while speaking of her love for Kirk, she actually starts crying. I was touched. Of course, later in the movie, as she seeks to discredit the Mirror and asserts that all of the photos of her were doctored (and quite clearly they were not doctored), she starts crying again. They are the same type of tears, completely indistinguishable from the first set. And I was like, “hey, wait a second.”

This is Errol Morris funniest documentary and it could easily be turned into a rather successful broad comedy. Just the idea of a beauty queen kidnapping a 6’3’’ 250 pound bespectacled and quite flabby Mormon missionary for a weekend sex getaway is just so ridiculous. And that’s just where it starts. After Joyce is released from prison and becomes famous, she starts hobnobbing through London society with celebrities (all of this is bankrolled by the Tabloids, who definitely get their money's worth when they capture Joyce smooching with The Who’s Keith Moon.) The story segment that garnered the biggest laughs in the theater was Joyce’s story of how she escaped from England by disguising herself in a Deaf-Mute Mime Troupe. She must have looked suspicious with 13 suitcases, all full with incriminating newspaper clippings. How she manages to get by Canadian customs without anyone noticing that she is an escapee with several felony charges is something straight out of, well I don't know, you wouldn't believe it if you saw it in a fictional movie. Then there is an epilogue concerning the cloning of now-middle aged Joyce McKinney’s pet dog, Booger. Errol Morris seems to have thrown that in just for fun.

 It’s impossible to tell what Errol Morris thinks of his subjects because he is so nonexistent in his movies. You never see him. If he is present at all, he is shouting unseen questions from off-screen. I remember seeing the story about the Holocaust denier and realizing that Morris spoke only once. Two hours into the movie and ten minutes from the end, he finally asks a question, “Have you ever considered that you might be wrong?” If Morris has an agenda, I haven’t the slightest idea what it could be, but whatever it is, it has made possible some of the best documentaries in the last quarter century (Fog of War, The Thin Blue Line, First Person). This seeming lack of agenda in effect gives the interviews a genuine feeling of liberation. The interviewees are always in control of their story and so they tend to speak with more abandon. Weirdly enough, it is in this cocoon of safety that the lies become so obviously transparent. The interviewee’s guard comes down and the truth (or rather what couldn’t possibly be the truth) comes out. I hear Joyce McKinney is very angry at Errol Morris at the way she is portrayed in this movie. I also hear that she is sneaking into screenings, loudly announcing herself during the credits and then gleefully bathing in the applause of complete strangers. I wouldn’t be surprised if they both tales were true, false, or somewhere in between. 

Cars 2 (4/5 Stars)

A Bait-and-Switch Sequel

Technically speaking “Cars 2” is a sequel to “Cars,” the 2006 movie by Pixar, but not really. If anything it is the feature length version of a series of Pixar shorts entitled “Mater’s Tall Tales.” These shorts starred a side character of “Cars” called Mater the Tow Truck (Larry the Cable Guy) telling grandiose stories of his daring exploits that took place all over the world and almost certainly never happened. The shorts were true cartoons, limited to fast paced joke telling and brilliantly animated action. If Pixar was being totally honest with us it might have named this movie, “Mater the Super Spy, Ka-Chow!” But here they are having it both ways. They get to cash in on sequel box office while at the same time telling a completely original story in a completely different genre. It’s sort of like a “bait and switch sequel.” It’s very clever of them.  

The first “Cars” was about a big-headed race car named Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) that got lost on the way to a big race in a small town called Radiator Springs. He gained wisdom by the simple folk there and gradually learned all about small town values. By the end of the movie he was a much nicer car. “Cars 2” is basically a James Bond movie and follows quite the same structure. It starts with a British spycar named Finn McMissile (Michael Caine doing a superb Michael Caine) infiltrating an offshore oilrig run by a car with a monocle named Professor Z. Professor Z is smuggling some sort of weapon, Finn takes pictures, Professor Z notices Finn, a chase ensues, spy car gadgets help achieve a daring escape, and all of this is before the opening credits. Later this plot line intertwines with an ex-CEO of Big Oil, Sir Miles Axelrod’s (Eddie Izzard) plans to put on a three race around the world Grand Prix to demonstrate his new alternative fuel, Allinoil. Lightning McQueen and his buddy Mater head on over to Tokyo for the first race. There Finn McMissile and his fellow spy Holley Shiftwell (Emily Mortimer) mistake the uncouth rust-covered Mater as an American agent with an elaborate cover. Several car chases later, Mater is embroiled in the spy world. Somehow and why Big Oil is sabotaging the Grand Prix and they have to find out what its all about.

So this is Mater’s story all the way and whether you like the movie or not perhaps will rest on whether you like the bucktoothed hillbilly Mater. I liked Mater. He had plenty of good one liners and on top of that is uncannily smart, at least about cars. A good example of this is why the British agents thought he was the American agent in the first place. The spies had this code set up for meeting the agent they had never met. One car would ask a question about why the old Volkswagon engines didn’t need some very technical thing. The answer is because they have a some kind of air-cooled engine block (I don’t remember the exact words, but it was very technical). Supposedly this question was chosen because a normal car would never know such an obscure fact. Well, Mater knows it and finds nothing strange about the question. He answers it without hesitation in breathless kind of enthusiasm typical of geeks with finally someone to talk too and then goes on to describe the cooling blocks of several other like cars from that time period. There are plenty of examples of this high level of car knowledge “Cars 2” and it suggests that the people who made the movie really love cars and know everything about them. I know absolutely nothing about cars and do not harbor any fond feelings for them. In fact a big reason I like living in NYC is that I don’t need a car here. My driver’s license actually expired almost a year ago and I haven’t bothered to renew it. What I’m trying to say is that I hate cars. But I do take vicarious pleasure from watching a movie that is in love with its subject matter. “Cars 2” definitely is. If you enjoyed Pixar’s “Ratatouille” without having any knowledge of French cuisine, than you should have a fun time watching “Cars 2” whether or not you know about cars. I suspect people who do like cars will love this movie.

Much of the humor and creativity in this movie (and there is quite a lot of it) has gone into creating our human world in a way that is totally inhabited by cars. They are doing everything that we do just in car fashion. This leads to some really clever spectacles. One of my favorites is the Popemobile inside a Popemobile. Another is when the cars go through airport security and have to take off their tires to go through the metal detectors. These little details fill the movie end-to-end. One weakness in the jokes however is that a person might have to be a world traveler to get them all. In the Tokyo segment, I would think that the viewer would have to be knowledgeable of Japanese TV shows, those compartments that people rent to sleep in, and the fact that you can get everything in a vending machine over there, to get the jokes about them. The same goes for the jokes that are ingrained into the scenery in Paris, London, and a coastal Italian city that looks a lot like Cinque Terra. If you were familiar with these places, I would think your viewing pleasure would be enhanced a great deal.

The same goes for the evil scheme that is being perpetrated by Big Oil in this movie. It reminded me of the water scheme that the last James Bond movie, “Quantum of Solace,” featured. Most people thought that scheme was totally lame. I loved it, but I think that was mostly because I had just read a book about water wars (Cadillac Desert) and had known the scheme was based on something that actually happened in Bolivia. I can see people having the same reaction to the evil plot here as well. Before seeing “Cars 2,” it might help to watch the documentary, “Who Killed the Electric Car?” the utterly baffling tale of how a “business” named General Motors designed and manufactured an arguably superior product only to go to rather extraordinary lengths not to market or sell it. With that knowledge, the scheme in “Cars 2” may not seem so unrealistic because it isn’t really. Similar things have happened. Pixar has once again done their homework. One thing that this scheme does get right in line with James Bond movies is the car equivalent of the bad guys. In this movie they are lemons, really bad working cars, bent on perpetrating an evil plot because they’re so bitter about their inferiority. Surely, if there is anything I’ve learned from watching James Bond movies, it’s that you shouldn’t trust people with physical deformities.

Not that Pixar is up on a soapbox here about environmentalism. This movie is mainly about car chases, jokes, and cool spy car gadgets. There is a subplot that deals with McQueen and Mater’s friendship getting strained by Mater’s spy stuff, but it isn’t heavy stuff. Unlike the last several Pixar movies, this one isn’t about to make you start crying in the theater. Apparently that level of pathos (as opposed to say intelligence, wit, or creativity) is now what solely defines a Pixar movie as its omission in this movie is the primary reason why it is scoring a completely uncalled for 33% on RottenTomatoes. It should be noted that audiences leaving the theater have given “Cars 2” a Cinemascope rating of A-. I would give it a B+ but yes that is far more accurate than the tomato rating. “Cars 2” is not a masterpiece but it is as good as any decent James Bond movie, a worthy comparison because it is the gold standard of the genre this movie takes place in. At the very least, “Cars 2” is a better movie than “Cars” was. 

Some extra thoughts on the ingenious marketing strategy of "Cars 2," and the meaning of the term "Bait and Switch Sequel."

What do people want when it comes to movie night? I would argue that it is different depending on when you ask them.

When a person is deciding which movie from many to see, they generally try to make the safest choice possible. This is especially true if you are choosing a movie for a group of people. You don’t want to be the guy who suggests an obscure movie that everyone ends up hating. A sequel from a very popular movie has at least a decent chance of being mediocre. If it is awful, then there is always an excuse. I thought it would have been like the first. The people with you will understand because they were thinking the same thing before heading into the theater. That excuse is not available when bringing people to see a movie that doesn’t have a track record.

But what will you have wished you had seen once you leave the theater. Well, supposedly you will have wished you had seen a good movie. Fill in your definition of that here. In the case of a sequel to “Cars,” I think I would have liked to see, at the very least, exciting action sequences I had not seen before and funny jokes I had not heard before or, in other words, a good original story. 

A “Bait-and-switch sequel,” is a movie that baits people into the theater by marketing something recognizable but than switches into an original story once the money has been paid and the people are sitting down. If all goes to plan it would be the best of both worlds, both in terms of box office and artistic credibility. So the rule: the “2” helps get people into the theater. It doesn’t help tell the story. Like “Cars 2” it should be used accordingly. 

The Hangover: Part II (2/5 Stars)

“10: The author shall make the reader feel a deep interest in the personages of his tale and in their fate; and he shall make the reader love the good people in the tale and hate the bad ones. But the reader of the “Deerslayer” tale dislikes the good people in it, is indifferent to the others, and wishes they would all get drowned together.”

- Mark Twain, Fenimore Cooper’s Literary Offenses

Comedy happens when somebody gets exactly what they deserve. Tragedy happens when bad things befall good people. If you do not have the ability to grasp this very simple basic difference than you might just be one of the makers of “The Hangover: Part 2,” a movie that discards nearly everything that made Part I a superior comedy and leaves behind a mess of awkwardness, unpleasantness, and a story that, if it took place in the real world, would be really sad.

The original conceit of the first Hangover movie was nothing short of brilliant. Four guys go to Vegas for a bachelor party. The next morning, Alan (played by Zach Galifinakis), Stu (played by Ed Helms), and Phil (played by Bradley Cooper) wake up in a trashed hotel room with disastrous hangovers. The groom is missing and nobody can remember where they lost him. But there are several clues around: a hospital band, a receipt from an ATM, a tiger, a chicken, a baby, and a police car. The rest of the movie concerns the three trying to piece together the mystery and meeting many different comic characters along the way. “The Hangover: Part II” follows this formula but in a vastly inferior way. This time it is Stu getting married. The wedding is taking place in Thailand. A couple of nights before the wedding, the four guys plus the bride’s 16-year-old nephew, Terry, have one beer by a campfire. Stu, Alan, and Phil wake-up the next morning with disastrous hangovers in a vagrant apartment in Bangkok and Terry is missing. But instead of a multitude of clues there is but two, a monkey and a severed finger. Both are dead ends and don’t lead to anything. In fact, whenever a clue or lead is finally brought to light it is usually entirely explored in the very next scene. Thus, there is very little mystery to Part II and that is a huge problem both in terms of the movie’s pace and comedy.

One of the more brilliant things about the first movie’s structure was the way it efficiently set up subplots. A clue was shown at the beginning and this gave the movie an excuse to switch tracks from one comic situation to another via some hilarious shock moments. Some good examples are the cops busting into a room, Mike Tyson waiting for the guys in their hotel room, or an Asian gang purposefully ramming the guys’ car. These moments don't exist in Part II because nothing is ever set up. So instead of quick comical transitions we are left with the guys walking around in depressed moods to locations that seem arbitrarily chosen. This movie isn't nearly as intelligent nor as interesting to watch unfold.

But this wouldn’t be nearly as big a problem if the movie were funny. And this is where “The Hangover Part II” inexplicably fails consistently. For one thing, all the characters have turned into jerks. The most notable transformation is Alan. What was a very funny weird but well-meaning oddball in the first movie has turned into a total asshole. He is mean to his parents, his friends, and most notably to Terry, who hasn’t done anything to deserve all the insults. This isn't funny. It's awkward. Generally speaking, a movie should make the audience like the good people in the story and dislike the bad. That way the movie is enjoyable when good stuff happens to the good people and bad stuff happens to the bad. (You would think that this would go without saying). But here there is no difference between the good and bad. They are all assholes. This goes for all the side characters in the sub-plots as well. Where Part I had some variability in the types of people the guys met (like say sweetheart Mike Tyson, heart of gold hooker Heather Graham, macho cop Rob Riggle, the annoyed doctor, etc.) everyone in Part II seems to be slightly different versions of the same jerk. The tattoo guy is a jerk. The Buddhist Monks are jerks. The drug dealers are jerks. The father-in-law is a jerk. The crime boss, played by Paul Giamatti, is a huge snarling screaming jerk. Nobody seems to be having any fun. Even the flashbacks of the night before don't show anybody having fun. The one exception is Mr. Chow, played once again by Ken Jeong, and he’s dead for half the movie. The story takes place almost entirely in a dank cesspool of inner city Bangkok. Everything is the color of puke. The funniest lines are spoken by Alan and these are mostly non-sequitors. You know a comedy is in trouble when the best jokes are funny precisely because they have nothing to do with the storyline.

The director Todd Phillips has always been very skilled at casting groups of comedians with different comic styles (Road Trip, Old School, Starsky and Hutch). In the first Hangover he hit the motherlode with the oddball Galifinakis, the neurotic Helms, and the laid back Bradley Cooper. The three played off each other very well. This was especially true whenever things would get too crazy. At that point the movie could depend on Cooper to be a relaxing agent. They wake up in a trashed hotel room. “Looks like we had a bit of fun last night,” Cooper wryly remarks, hardly worried. A valet brings around a cop car instead of their Rolls Royce. Cooper volunteers to drive it, not missing a beat. In Part II, this dynamic falls apart completely and the main reason is that Cooper can’t realistically be a relaxing agent without sounding like an uncaring asshole. The situations the guys find themselves in are far too serious. Do you understand the comedic difference between getting tasered as a punishment for stealing a cop car as opposed to getting shot for no reason whatsoever? Do you understand the difference between a very bad sunburn and a permanent face tattoo? Or how about the difference between cheating on an unfaithful shrew of a girlfriend by accidentally marrying Heather Graham as opposed to cheating on your faultless fiancé via sodomy with a transvestite prostitute? If you do, then I would argue you have a much keener understanding of what is funny and what is not than the makers of this movie. There is a very telling scene in this movie as far as the audience’s laughter level in the theater with me was concerned. It dealt with Stu’s father-in-law giving a toast. It starts with a couple of insults at Stu’s expense, which the audience definitely laughed at. It goes on for several more insults, each one drawing less laughter than the one before. And then the toast just keeps on going for much longer than the movie needed to make absolutely clear that the father-in-law isn’t telling jokes at all. Instead, he is expressing outright hatred of his son-in-law and maliciously intends to humiliate him in front of his bride to be, his entire family, and all his friends. By the end of the toast, the audience had stopped laughing. It wasn’t funny. It was just really fucking mean. 

The Hangover Part II has made so much money already that I’m sure there is more than enough financial incentive to make Part III. I am of the belief that Part III could still be very funny if it stayed competently faithful to the formula of the first movie. The first step I would think is to hire back the original writers, Jon Lucas and Scott Moore, and fire the hacks they hired to write this one.

The Tree of Life (4/5 Stars)

He’s the one

Who likes all our pretty songs

And he likes to sing along

And he likes to shoot his gun

But he knows not what it means

Knows not what it means

When I say….

In Bloom, Nirvana

“The Tree of Life,” is a very pretty movie. I admit I didn’t quite understand it, but that still won’t stop me from suggesting other people see it. I would say it is worth seeing just because it exists. Sure, it is probably a good idea to take some time to think about it or read an article or two about the meaning in order to draw your own conclusions. That is something I myself will attempt to do at the end of this review. But I don’t think you have to in order to enjoy the movie. If there is one thing about this movie I can definitely say, it is that it is not the least bit preachy or confrontational. The movie is rated PG. It contains gorgeous images that are flashed onto the screen at a dime a dozen pace. It is lovingly directed, acted, and edited with great attention to artistic detail and is told in a calming, meditative, and above all, spiritual way. There was once this very similar movie called “2001: A Space Odyssey.” It too involved an incredible scope of vision that intertwined the eons of history with a visual odyssey set to an amazing score. Sure it was kind of long at times and had a meaning that was kind of hard to grasp, but the children of the sixties had a good way of dealing with that problem. They got high before they saw the movie. Now I’m not saying that you should do that before seeing “The Tree of Life.” I’m just saying I heard it worked for “2001: A Space Odyssey.” No, I wasn’t high when I saw the movie. I was tipsy on white wine, which is totally fine with Jesus.   

The director of “The Tree of Life,” is none other than Terrance Malick. He has made five movies since 1973. Rounded out, that is about one movie per decade. It shows. A Malick movie is something that always looks like the creator took the time to make as perfect as possible. In most other movies, there will perhaps be a scene or a single shot of great beauty that will catch your eye. Those movies will almost always take the time to really linger on the shot and milk it for all its worth. This happens about every 30 seconds in a Malick movie. If you watch the trailer and then the movie, you will notice that most of the images in the trailer happen within the first half hour of the movie. There is plenty more where that came from and it is just as good. The cinematographer’s name is Emmanuel Lubezki and the composer’s name is Alexandre Desplat. You should remember those names, as it is very likely that they will be hoisting Oscars come next February.

The plot of the story is unconventional to the extreme. After a brief prologue concerning several family members hearing about the death of a 19-year-old son and brother, the movie takes a detour to show the creation of the universe, from the big bang to the formation of the Earth. Evolution takes over in a series of montages that could be described as a biologist’s wet dream. This includes dinosaurs. Finally a boy named Jack is born in 1950s suburbia. At this point, we finally get characters. There is the mother played by Jessica Chastain, the father played by Brad Pitt, and three boys played by Hunter McCracken (“Jack”), Laramie Eppler, and Tye Sheridan. The story of the family is told through vignettes of specific details. The camera flows through the house and surrounding neighborhood in a curious and wonderful way. Most of the time it doesn’t matter what scene came just before or what scene comes right after. When the people speak it has the tendency to break the spell, so most of time the characters don’t speak, or when they do it is whispered in a voiceover or replaced by the lyrical score. In a way, the actors are even really acting. They are more like models in a moving Norman Rockwell painting. The main conflict in the movie is Jack’s relationship with his domineering father, a strict disciplinarian who insists that his sons call him sir, do their chores very perfectly, and learn how to fight him, etc. He is a bully but is deliberately shown as having the belief that he is doing his son’s a service in getting them ready for a hard world. He speaks enviously of neighbors with more money and his failed dreams of being a musician. He has it all figured out for his kids though, that is until the end of the movie where something happens and he doesn’t anymore. Life goes on and the family moves away from their idyllic house in the suburbs. We then see Jack all grown up as Sean Penn. The movie loses reality as Sean Penn looks like he’s taking a journey into the wilderness until we see that he is meeting up with a crowd that contains his already dead parents. They all walk around a big lake together to the tune of a Gregorian chant. Then the movie and the song end with several Amens. I read Ebert’s review and he suggested that the last couple of scenes were some kind of afterlife. I’m going to take his word for it. (Although if heaven we’re walking around a lake for all eternity, I think I would rather be reincarnated.)

So okay, what the hell does all of it mean? I’ll take my best shot at it. We might as well start with the quote at the beginning of the movie. It says “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy.”  It is from the biblical book of Job. For those not acquainted, the book of Job is the story of a good person who has many bad things happen to him. Wallowing in self-pity and scorning life, Job is joined by three friends who insist that since God is just, Job must have done something to deserve his situation. Job disagrees. He does not lay blame at God’s feet nor ask for anything back but simply asks for an explanation. If he is guilty than what did he do? This conversation goes on for a while until finally God shows up to put in his two cents. And here is where it gets interesting. God doesn’t explain himself. Instead he chides Job for having the gall to even raise the question. “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?” God asks. The point being that men do not have the knowledge or experience to understand what God is doing nor does God have the duty to answer the questions of his own creations. The book of Job is part of a series of books in the Bible called the Books of Wisdom (others are Proverbs and Ecclesiastes). These are kind of amazing books because in essence they take an agnostic view of God. They don’t deny the existence of God, but they also quite explicitly reject the idea that God can be fully understood. Ecclesiastes is particularly skeptical. It declares everybody to be wrong and everything done on Earth to be in vain. All of this just goes to show that no matter what your beliefs are, there is a book somewhere in the bible that will support them.  

My best guess is that “The Tree of Life,” is a deeply spiritual agnostic movie. It juxtaposes the creation of the universe over billions of years with the story of how young Jack’s father was really mean to him for seemingly no reason. It assumes that they are connected somehow in some greater plan but does not explain why or how. In other words, a connection between the different parts in this movie is something the audience has to take on faith. Either you believe it or you don’t. The ending of this movie drew giggles in the theater that I was in. I can understand that because I saw the movie and I can attest that it doesn’t make logical sense. But such is spirituality and I believe Malick gets it at least that much right by not trying to prove anything. It is a mistake I would think to look to biblical prophecies or miracles as definite proof of God or his will because basing belief of God on tangible things isn’t exactly faith. It is more of a pseudoscience. In essence, faith is about being presented with a legitimate mystery, attributing it to God, and accepting that you won’t be able to understand it. Science on the other hand is based on the assumption that with enough work everything is knowable and if there is a God, then how that works is knowable as well. The two are completely incompatible no matter what anybody says. Both points of view have their downsides when it comes to living life though. The linchpin in this movie is the conflict within the Brad Pitt character. He is struggling to master a world he doesn’t understand and ruinously brings that fight into his home instead of accepting the mystery and being thankful and enjoying the life that has been given to him. 

I don’t know, maybe.

For those interested in spending more than one restless night thinking about these sorts of things, may I suggest the Coen Brothers movie, “A Serious Man.” It is about a Jewish physics professor who wants a decent explanation as to why his life is turning to shit, just like Job. 

Everything Must Go (3/5 Stars)

Nick Halsey has just been fired from his job of 16 years as vice-president of sales. It wasn’t a problem with his work. It was a problem with his drinking. There may have been an incident with a woman at a conference in Denver. It’s hard for him to explain his behavior because he can’t remember what happened. It seems though, from the way he walks and talks (one part resignation, one part vague guilt mixed in with a measure of self-loathing/pity) that he certainly believes he could have done something bad. On the way home from work he stops by the mini-mart and stocks up on PBR. He intends to drink it as quick as is comfortably possible. The house he comes home to is empty. All the locks on the doors have been changed. All of Nick’s furniture and stuff has been moved to the front lawn. On the door is a letter from his wife explaining that this is the last of these letters. Nick finds his easy chair, plops down on it, and continues drinking. His suburban neighborhood has bylaws that state a yard sale can be held for, at the most, five days. So given the front of selling his stuff, Nick has about that amount of time to hang out on his front lawn, drink some more, and decide whether he has hit rock bottom or if there is still plenty of self-destruction left to go.

“Everything Must Go” is directed by Dan Rush and based on a short story by Raymond Carver. I haven’t read any of Carver’s stuff but after seeing this movie and Robert Altman’s “Short Cuts” (itself a very good movie that compiles several of Raymond Carver’s stories), he makes my impossibly long list of books that would be so great to read some day if only it didn’t take so damn long to read books. The movie itself is very much like an elongated short story. It is contained entirely within five days, it takes place almost entirely on Nick’s front lawn, and attention is spent more on small details than big action. The ambition and budget is limited. For what it is, as they say, it is what it is, and as they also say, it does a fine job of doing what it does. There is nothing wrong with “Everything Must Go.” It’s just a small movie. If you are in the mood for that sort of thing, add a star or two to the rating up top.

Nick is played by comedian Will Ferrell in a role that is hard to believe anyone else could pull off as well. The sight of a man living on his front lawn with all his stuff is absurd and the location of this movie, being a suburb in sunny Arizona, lends the movie lots of light, which bounces off all the furniture in bright colored hues. All the lawns around him are bright green. Nick even owns a Tiki Bar and a George Foreman grill. This lends the movie a cheery tone even if its subject is so dreary. Nick isn’t getting drunk in a dark bar like Nic Cage in “Leaving Las Vegas.” He’s out in the open and fresh air. A comedian like Ferrell looks like he belongs in such a situation. And since all of this creates such an expectation of comedy, it is that much more effective as a drama when Ferrell doesn’t try to go for any jokes whatsoever. Sure there may be some witty asides to smile with (especially the talks with a bored kid played by Christopher Jordan Wallace whom Nick hires as a salesperson), but overall this movie takes alcoholism seriously. And watching a funny man that is too drunk to be funny is not funny. It’s especially sad. Even more so when one considers that the irresponsible man-boy characters that Will Ferrell usually portrays would perhaps at one point meet the same fate if they lived in the real world. It has been noted with surprise from many critics that Will Ferrell is a good actor in this movie. I agree but do not take it as a surprise. I can only assume that those critics don’t consider comedy acting as “Acting!” Watch “Old School” again and see Will Ferrell strike some of the same notes he does here. Besides being hilarious in that movie, he also realistically loses both his wife and home to drinking.

I’m sure there are a myriad of reasons why some people drink too much. Nick Hasley here seems to be doing it almost as a self-imposed punishment. A major theme of the movie involves Nick’s quest to find a reason as to why he deserves to be a happy functioning sober person. In this search, he employs the kid, a neighbor who just moved in next-door, played by Rebecca Hall, and his AA sponsor played by Michael Pena. He even goes so far as to contact a woman, played by Laura Dern, he hardly knew in high school and hasn’t spoken to in 20 years. She wrote in his yearbook that she considered him to be a diamond in the rough and suspected him to be nice even though he was a jock. So Nick, because I guess he was curious as to why someone who hardly knew him would think something like that, looks her up and shows up on her doorstep. He says he was just in the neighborhood, but come on, this is the suburbs. Nobody goes anywhere on accident there.   

And here I’m going to now pause and take my geeky liberty to talk about city planning and real estate development. If anyone living in the suburbs decides to watch this movie, please take a special interest in the scene between Will Ferrell and Laura Dern. It is the perfect example of why every house needs a porch. A grown man that just shows up on your doorstep after 20 years is inherently a weird thing. Under no circumstances should that man be let inside the house. This is something Laura Dern conveys quite explicitly in her body language. However, it is perfectly fine to talk to him on the front porch. After all, there is a possibility that he isn’t insane and you still have the ability of being able to walk inside the house and lock the door. Thus, having a porch gives one the ability to talk to strangers without sacrificing privacy or safety. It is elemental to making friends in a neighborhood. This nice conversation could not have realistically happened had Dern not had a porch. Now contrast this with the fact that Nick’s house doesn’t have a porch. In fact, even though this neighborhood is in Arizona, a place with such great weather that porches would be the most obvious things ever, none of the surrounding houses have porches. That is distressingly normal in suburbs that have been built in the last quarter century. What effect this has on the neighborhood is keenly observed in this movie. Take note that the only neighbors Nick has regular conversations with during his five day yard sale is the woman who has recently moved in across the street and the kid on the bike. In my opinion, this is completely realistic. Really, the only time one can strike up a random conversation with a suburban neighbor is the week they move in. After that it is awkward and usually an invasion of privacy. After all, you need a reason to invite yourself into somebody’s living room. Without a porch, taking the initiative to talk to people in the suburbs is more likely to be rude than friendly. The kid by the way doesn’t live in the neighborhood. His mother works there as a home nurse. She can’t afford daycare so she brings him along. He spends his days biking the desolate streets. He talks to Nick mainly out of sheer boredom. That too, I can personally attest, is completely realistic. 

Bridesmaids (5/5 Stars)

“Why can’t you just be happy for me and talk about me behind my back like a normal person!?!?”

Shouts the bride-to-be Lillian, played by Maya Rudolph, to her ex-best friend Annie, played by Kristen Wiig, at her bridal shower. There has been a seething conflict brewing between the bridesmaids, Annie and Helen, played by Rose Byrne, underneath all of the polite smiles and passive-aggressive I-hope-once-I-get-to-know-you-I’ll-like-you-better mannerisms. Annie is Lillian’s best friend since childhood. She is a failure at business (her bakery went out of business), at love (her current boyfriend considers them to be nothing but fuck-buddies), at home (her roommates are really weird and consider her the weird one), and everything else. Helen, the wife of the groom’s boss, is very rich, always beautiful, extremely organized and although she has only known Lillian for a couple months, seems determined to become her new best friend. Compounding things are Annie’s many failures at organizing the pre-wedding events from serious mishaps at the bridal dress fitting to a bachelorette party in Vegas that goes awry much earlier than you would think is possible. At one point, Annie is fired as the maid of honor and Helen is put in charge of planning the Bridal Shower. And what a shower it is. It’s just so goddamn infuriatingly perfect. So perfect in fact that at one exceedingly over the top moment that Annie would have loved to provide but couldn’t because she is poor and that Helen does provide because she is rich, Annie finally snaps and angrily exclaims, “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” What follows is a completely truthful/inappropriate tirade directed at the ex-best friend who has sold her out and a crowd of shocked party guests capped off with Annie running into the backyard to destroy the larger than life party decorations, which, it should be noted, she isn’t particularly good at doing either. That description unjustly summarizes one of the funniest scenes I have ever seen in a movie and more than anything should solidify Kristen Wiig as a bona fide movie star. The level of comedic ecstasy achieved in this movie is on the level of the best comedies ever made. The key to getting to that high level of superior comedy basically consists of finding a way for the characters to do outrageous things in ridiculous situations while still staying true to reality and the reasonable character motivations. That takes not only a large amount of creativity but also an in-depth understanding of human nature. This movie has both in spades. If this won’t be the best comedy of the year, it will definitely be one of the best. In my opinion, it should be nominated for a Best Picture Oscar.

A general rule in the movie business if you are a talented actor but aren’t getting good roles is you should take the initiative and write your own material. For years now, Kristen Wiig has been a virtuoso performer on Saturday Night Live, but unlike so many other great SNL alumni, she has been relegated to supporting characters in feature length movies of inferior comedians. Here, following the advice of producer Judd Apatow and with the partnership of Annie Mumolo, she has co-written her own screenplay. (You can see the fictional and real Annie sitting next to each other in the airplane scene.) This screenplay is perfect. Or should I say, Kristen’s performance makes it perfect. So many of the laughs in this movie would not exist if Kristen Wiig had not delivered the lines. She has an incredibly impressive ability to squeeze the utmost amount of humor out of a single phrase. Even most of her whispers get laughs in this movie. Sometimes she doesn’t say anything at all and simply employs her eyes and facial expressions to tell the joke. How many comedians can you think of who can do that? (I’m judging you, Seth Rogen.) That ability it especially important in this story because so much of it involves situations in which it would be rude for a character to complain about anything out loud lest it would ruin the experience for the bride. To be realistic then, Kristen has to convey her character’s enormous frustration with true subtlety. It is flat out brilliant the way she can say one thing and at the same time so clearly convey to the audience that she means something else entirely. And when the character finally gets loud, Kristen knocks that sort of thing out of the park too. Not to mention her ability to do great physical comedy, something most actresses aren’t even willing to try. In my opinion again, this is an Oscar caliber performance and she should at least be nominated.

Surrounding Kristen Wiig is a very good ensemble. Maya Rudolph as the bride has mastered the art of the straight character. When things get crazy she rightly underplays the social awkwardness in order to keep the scene going even farther. When things get fun she looks like she is definitely enjoying herself, which naturally suggests that the audience should too. The other bridesmaids include Rita, played by Wendi Mcloven-Covey, a blunt and frank long-married woman with three teenage boys. Rita is looking forward to the bachelorette party more than anything else. Then there is Becca, played by Ellie Kemper, who is young, naïve, and recently married. She and her husband went to Disney World for their honeymoon and haven’t been with anyone else. The wildcard is Megan, played by Melissa McCarthy, a short very stout and manly woman. She brings up the idea of a Fight Club themed Bridal Shower. All of these characters are so well defined and have such different comedic styles that the group scenes play effortlessly. No matter where they are or what anyone says, somebody in the group is going to feel out of their element or disagree or be offended on some level. When they talk in a group, it’s just one joke after another. Rita and Becca work wonderfully together. Finally, there is Helen, who is played by Rose Byrne. I was reminded of Russell Brand’s character in “Forgetting Sarah Marshall.” Here you have a character that could have been so easily given no depth and made solely to be hated. Instead, similar to so many other great Judd Apatow productions, even the antagonist in this story is made to be deliberately sympathetic. There aren’t any real bad guys in this movie and, above all, in the midst of all the raunchy scatological humor there is a core of emotional honesty. The relationships, whether between Annie and Lillian or Annie and Helen or Annie the two love interests in the movie, (the jerk played by the dashing Jon Hamm and the nice guy played by Andy O’Dowd) are sincere and affecting. These are characters you can truly care about. Well, everyone except Jon Hamm.

Of course, I don’t want to downplay the comedy by upholding the dramatic stuff. It should be mentioned just how well this movie constructs gags and conversations with humorous payoffs. One example of many includes a scene at the engagement party where Annie and Helen give speeches about how great the bride is. Annie goes first. Helen gives a better speech. Annie decides to tack on an epilogue to hers. Helen comes right back. This happens a couple more times and includes a great laugh dealing with just how many microphones there are in the room. The tug-of-war goes on in more elaborate fashion until right before the scene starts to feel really awkward. Then the movie snatches victory out of the jaws of defeat by ending it with a speech that turns into a song that turns into a duet. This conveniently spares both participants from embarrassment because the crowd logically thinks the entire competition was planned between the two. Another example involves how Annie loses her sales job in a jewelry store. A 12-year-old girl walks in and wants to buy a “Best Friends Forever” bracelet as a present for a friend. Annie, deeply distressed by that time in the movie, suggests that the word “forever” might be pushing it. The girl rightly suggests that Annie’s loser life is her own loser business. A whisper fight ensues and how it ends, well, let me just say I never ever thought a situation in which the C-word was directed at a 12-year-old girl could be so funny.

Dare I say that “Bridesmaids” is an important movie. If you take a look at most of the broad comedies out in the movie marketplace you will notice that they are almost exclusively anchored by male comedians. The few women who do anchor comedies, like say Katherine Heigl, Jennifer Aniston, or Anna Faris, usually do not find themselves in truly funny movies. This has quite a lot to do with the way movies confine the way that nearly all women look and act. To be more specific the general rule is that the main female character in a movie has to be beautiful all the time. This may be fine in drama but it hardly ever works in comedy. This is because the work of comedians is based in so many ways on self-degradation. “Bridesmaids” is a special movie in that it enables actresses to not wear makeup, curse up a storm, act awkward in conversation, act awkward physically, make disastrous embarrassing mistakes, be immature, and even, from time to time, be disgusting. That’s a good thing comedically speaking. It may seem odd that I would be arguing to allow women to degrade themselves in movies, but may I please point out that we certainly allow men to do it without any qualms whatsoever. Think of all the many lead actors in broad comedies that are not abnormally good looking or have incredible flaws. When a movie casts men of ample gut, like say Kevin James, Jack Black, John Candy, Vince Vaughn, or Chris Farley, in romantic leads in broad comedies, it essentially means that the movie is making a bet that the audience will accept that person romantically despite their appearance based in part on their personalities. Movies are very rarely willing to make the same bet with women comedians. To rephrase a classic Nora Ephron conversation between otherwise good-natured men from “When Harry Met Sally,” to say a woman has a good personality means nothing more than she is an ugly woman.

That type of attitude is precisely why the average Katherine Heigl/Jennifer Aniston Rom-Com will never be as funny as “Bridesmaids.” There are some jokes you just cannot do with makeup on. There is a very funny scene in “Bridesmaids” where the women eat at a Brazilian restaurant right before getting fitted for dresses. Everyone but Helen, who didn’t eat the meat at the restaurant because she is a vegetarian, gets food poisoning. And as the rest of the group is throwing up in the bathroom, the prideful Annie will not admit that she too is sick, as that would prove her inability to choose a good restaurant. Helen pressures her. Annie stubbornly sticks to her story even as she turns a sickly pale and lines of sweat start running down her face. Does Kristen Wiig look sexy in this scene? No way in hell. Is the scene funny? It’s hilarious. The big question of course is whether the audience will accept Kristen Wiig as a romantic interest even though she is a brave enough comedian to allow herself to be ugly. I hope so. If there is any woman that can become the first female comedic movie star it is Kristen Wiig. I hope that this movie makes a ton of money and becomes the first in Wiig’s hopefully illustrious career.

Surely some people who read this may comment that there are plenty of great female comedians on television. I surely agree. I intend to make a distinction between television and feature length films. Television broke this barrier at least fifty years ago when it allowed Lucille Ball to flex her comedic muscles in order to get drunk on cough syrup and eat an assembly line’s worth of chocolate. Since then, the vast majority of great female comedians from Carol Burnett, Mary Tyler Moore, Roseanne to recently Julia Louis-Dreyfuss, Sarah Silverman, and Tina Fey have found their home on television. In fact, it should be noted that the majority of the cast in “Bridesmaids” have done their best work on television. Kristen Wiig and Maya Rudolph are both from “Saturday Night Live.” Wendi McLendon-Covey is from “Reno 9-11.” Ellie Kemper is from “The Office.” Melissa McCarthy can be found on "Mike and Molly." The only bridesmaid who is best known from movies here is Rose Byrne (aka the abnormally beautiful one). Rose, by the way, is not a comedian and is not so funny in this movie, although she does get much funnier as her character is more developed and her perfect hair gets out of place. I don't believe that is a coincidence. 

I don’t want to seem like a feminist in bringing this sort of thing up. (Quite frankly, the more I think about this sort of thing the more I'm inclined to think requiring an -ism to be treated equally is itself demeaning) I am much more comfortable saying it as a person who considers comedy to be a hobby and passion. To the studios I would argue that there is plenty of money to be made by giving talented female comedians like Kristen Wiig leading roles that allow imperfect looks and behavior. There are plenty of profitable comedies that are directed entirely at male audiences. The same should be able to be done conversely. “Bridesmaids” might be a very clear example of that.